§ 15. Alpine Passes and Carriage Roads. li bare rock. The only plants that grow are dry lichens, which seem intended but to keep up the semblance of vegetation, and to perpetuate Nature's cheerful hues of green. The rarefied air is icy cold, and exercise and quick motion are necessary to keep up the circulation of the blood. The agreeable murmur of falling water, which has accompanied the traveller hitherto incessantly, here ceases,—all is solitude and silence, interrupted only by the shrill whistle of the marmot, or the hoarse cawing of an ill-omened raven. The ptarmigan starts up from among heaps of unmelted snow at the traveller's approach, and the lammergeyer (the condor of the Alps), disturbed in his repast on the carcass of a sheep or cow, is seen soaring upwards in a succession of corkscrew sweeps till he gains the ridge of the Alps, and then disappears. Such are the remarkable gradations which the stranger encounters in the course of a few hours, on a single pass of the Alps; but the most striking change of all is that from the region of snow and ice on the top of the mountain, to the sunny clime and rich vegetation of Italy, which awaits the traveller at the S. foot of the Alps. The works of Nature, however, will not entirely occupy the attention and wonder of the wanderer in such a pass; at least a share will be demanded for admiration of the works of man. The great highways, passable for carriages, over the high Alps, are, indeed, most surprising monuments of human skill and enterprise in surmounting what would appear, at first sight, to be intended by Nature as insurmountable. These proud constructions of art thread the valleys, cross the debris of rivers on long causeways, skirt the edge of the precipice, with walls of rock tottering over them, and torrents thundering below. Where the steep and hard surface of the cliff has left not an inch of space for a goat to climb along, they are conducted upon high terraces of solid masonry, or through a notch blasted by gunpowder in the wall of rock. In many instances a projecting buttress of the mountain has blocked up all passage for ages, saying "thus far and no farther: the skill of the modern engineer has pierced through this a tunnel or gallery; and the difficulty is vanquished, without the least change in the level of the road. Sometimes an impediment of this nature is eluded by throwing bridges over the dizzy gorge, and shifting the road from side to side, frequently 2 or 3 times within the space of half a mile. Often the road reaches a spot down which the winter avalanches take their habitual course every year, sweeping everything before them, and which, even in summer, appears reeking and dripping with the lingering fragments of snow which it has left behind. Will not so irresistible an antagonist arrest the course of this frail undertaking of man? Not even the avalanche;—in such a situation the road either buries itself in subterranean galleries, driven through the mountain, or is sheltered by massive arcades of masonry, sometimes half a mile or three quarters of a mile long. Over these the avalanche glides harmlessly, and is turned into the depths below. Every opportunity is seized of gaining, by easy ascents, a higher lii § 15.- Alpine Passes and High Roads. level for the road; at length comes the main ascent, the central ridge, to be surmounted only by hard climbing. This is overcome by a succession of zigzag terraces, called tourniquets or giravolte, connected together by wide curves, to allow carriages to turn easily and rapidly. So skilful is their construction, with such easy bends and so gradual a slope, that in many alpine roads the postilions, with horses accustomed to the road, trot down at a rapid pace. Sometimes as many as 50 of these zigzags succeed one another without interruption; and the traveller, as he passes backwards and forwards, hovering over the valley, is as though suspended to a pendulum, and swinging to and fro. The road itself has a most singular appearance, twisted about like an uncoiled rope or a riband unwound. "O'er the Simplon, o'er the Splügen winds The travelling-carriage descends sometimes rapidly and without interruption for an hour. A drag of tempered iron is quickly worn down, in that time, as thin as the blade of a knife, so great is the friction. It is advisable to substitute for the iron drag a wooden sabot, formed of the section of a fir-tree, with a groove cut in the centre to admit the wheel. The winter's snow usually falls upon the Alpine passes more than 5000 ft. high about the second week in October (sometimes earlier), and continues till the first or second week in June. Yet even after this, the passage across the neck or Col, as it is called, is not stopped, except for a few days, until the snow can be cleared away. In some of the minor passes, indeed, traversed by a mere rough foot path, or bridle-path, the traffic is much increased after the fall of the snow, which, by filling up depressions and smoothing the way, permits the transport of heavy merchandise on sledges, which move easily over the surface as soon as it has hardened. Along the lines of the great carriage-roads strong houses are erected at intervals, called Maisons de Refuge, Case di Ricovero, occupied by persons called Cantonniers, who are employed in mending the road and keeping it free from snow in winter, and are also paid to assist travellers in danger during snow-storms. As near as possible to the summit of the pass a Hospice is generally erected, usually occupied by a band of charitable monks, as in § 16. Chalets and Pasturages. liii the case of the Great St. Bernard, the Simplon, Cenis, St. Gothard, &c. The direction of the road across the summit of the ridge is marked by a line of tall poles, which project above the snow, and, from being painted black, are easily recognised. Patrols are sent out from the hospice in tempestuous weather, when the tourmente is raging, and the mist and falling snow hide the land-marks, to guide the travellers on their way and rescue those in danger. Bells are also rung at such times that the sound may aid when the sight fails. The morning after a fall of snow labourers and peasants are assembled from all sides to shovel it off from the road. Where it is not very deep it is cleared away by a snow-plough drawn by 6 or 8 oxen. As the winter advances and fresh falls occur, the snow accumulates, and the road near the summit of a pass presents the singular aspect of a path or lane, cut between walls of snow, some times 10 or 20 ft. high. Carriages are taken off their wheels and fastened upon sledges; ropes are attached to the roof, which are held by 6 or 8 sturdy guides running along on each side, to prevent the vehicle upsetting and rolling over the slippery ice down a precipice. In this manner very high passes are crossed in the depth of winter with little risk. The spring is a season during which far greater danger is to be apprehended from the avalanches which then fall. 16. CHALETS AND PASTURAGES. From the mountainous nature of Switzerland and its high elevation, the greater part of the surface, more than 1800 feet above the sea, which is not bare rock, is pasture-land. The wealth of the people, like that of the patriarchs of old, in a great measure, lies in cattle and their produce, on which account the pastoral life of the Swiss deserves some attention. The bright verdure of the meadows which clothe the valleys of Switzerland is one of the distinguishing features of the country; and the music of the cow-bells, borne along by the evening breeze, is one of the sweetest sounds that greets the traveller's ear. The Alps, or mountain-pasturages, for that is the meaning of the word Alp in Switzerland and Tyrol, are either the property of individuals or of the commune; to a certain extent common land, în which the inhabitants of the neighbouring town or village have the right of pasturing a certain number of head of cattle. "In the spring, as soon as the snow has disappeared, and the young grass sprouts up, the cattle are sent from the villages up to the first and lower pastures. Should a certain portion of these be exhausted, they change their quarters to another part of the mountain. Here they stay till about the 10th or 12th of June, when the cattle are driven to the middle ranges of pastures. That portion of the herds intended for a summer campaign on the highest Alps, remain here till the beginning of July, and, on the 4th of that month, generally ascend to them; return to the middle range of pastures, about 7 or 8 weeks afterwards, spend there about 14 days, or 3 weeks, to eat the aftergrass; and finally return into the valleys about the 10th or 11th of October; where they remain in the vicinity of the villages, till driven by the snow and tempests of winter into the stables. "That portion of the cattle, on the other hand, which is not destined to pass the summer on the higher Alps, and are necessary for the supply of the village with milk and butter, descend from the middle pastures on the 4th of July, into the valley, and consume the grass upon the pasturage belonging to the commune, till the winter drives them under shelter. The very highest Alpine pasturages are never occupied more than 3 or 4 weeks at the furthest." Latrobe. Sometimes the owners of the cattle repair in person to the Alps, and pass the summer among them, along with their families, superintending the herdsmen, and assisting in the manufacture of butter and cheese. The best cheeses are made upon pastures 3000 ft. above the sea level, in the vales of Simmen and Saanen (Gruyere) and in the Emmenthal. The best cows there yield, in summer, between 20 lbs. and 40 lbs. of milk daily, and each cow produces, by the end of the season of 4 months, on an average, 2 cwt. of cheese. The life of the cow-herd (Vacher or Senner) is by no means such an existence of pleasure as romances in general, and that of Rousseau in particular, have represented it. His labours are arduous and constant; he has to collect 80 or 90 cows twice a-day, to be milked, to look after stragglers, to make the cheese and keep all the utensils employed in the process in the most perfect state of cleanliness. The Chalet (Germ. Sennhutte) in which he resides, is literally a log-hut, formed of trunks of pines, notched at the extremities so as to fit into one another at the angles of the building, where they cross it has a low flat roof, weighted with stones to keep fast the shingle-roof and prevent its being blown away by the wind. A building of this kind is rarely air-tight or water-tight. The interior is usually blackened with smoke and very dirty, boasting of scarcely any furniture, except, perhaps, a table and rude bench, and the apparatus of the dairy, including a huge kettle for heating the milk. A truss of straw, in the loft above, serves the inmates for a bed. The ground around the hut on the outside is usually poached by the feet of the cattle, and the heaps of mud and dung render it difficult to approach the door. This description applies to the commoner sort of chalets; those in which the owners themselves reside are generally better, but they are also less numerous. There is another kind of chalet, a mere shed or barn, in which the hay is housed until the winter, when it is conveyed over the snow in sledges down to the villages below. A pastoral Swiss valley is usually speckled over with huts of this kind, giving it the appearance, to a stranger, of being much more populous than it is in reality: in the Simmenthal alone there are, it is said, 10,000 chalets. The herdsmen shift their habitations from the lower to the upper pasturages, as their cattle ascend and descend the Alps, at different seasons, and they sometimes have 2 or 3 places of temporary abode. The weary traveller in search of repose and refreshment, after a long day's journey, is often disappointed, on approaching what he conceives to be a human habitation, to find either that it is a mere hay-barn, or else a deserted chalet; and thereby learns, with much mortification, that he has still some tedious miles to trudge before he can reach the first permanently-occupied dwelling. What an agreeable contrast to reach a well-appointed chalet of the better sort, where delicious milk, cooled in the mountain stream, fresh butter, bread, and cheese, are spread out on a clean napkin before the hungry and tired stranger! The cattle are frequently enticed home, at milking-time, by the offer of salt, which they relish highly, and which is, besides, considered wholesome. The allowance for a cow, in some parts of Switzerland, is 4lbs. or 5 lbs. of salt in a quarter of a year. * 17. GLACIERS. The glaciers, one of the most sublime features of the Alps, and one of the most wonderful phenomena of nature, are composed of the accumulated snow which falls during nine months of the year on the higher summits and valleys, and which remains for several months a dry and loose powder, until the heat of the summer sun begins to melt and consolidate it. Under the influence of solar warmth, the snow assumes first a granular form; and to pass over it in that state is like walking among rice or peas, in which the foot sinks up to the knees. Lower down, or as the heat increases, so as to melt a considerable portion, and cause the water to percolate it, it becomes a compact mass. The frosty temperature of the night hardens that which has been dissolved in the day; and thus, after repeated thawings and freezings, the whole undergoes a fresh crystallization, being converted into ice of a coarser grain and less compact substance than common ice. Thus there appears to be a regular transition or passage from the loose powdery snow, to the more dense ice of the glacier. The Swiss, indeed, have two distinct terms for these modifications of the snowy covering of the high Alps. The upper granular and unconsolidated part they call Firn, Haut Névé in French, (which, for want of any corresponding English word we may represent by Snow-field), and apply the term glacier (gletscher) to the lower limbs of more solid ice, which stretch down into the valleys. The Firn, or Névé, presents a smooth concave surface of dazzling white, while that of the glacier is convex; its crevasses are wider and more irregular, and are thinly covered over with treacherous snow. It is a region of complete desolation; no animal intrudes upon it save a chance insect, and only the scantiest lichens appear on the rocks around it. The firm occurs only at a height *The last and most recent information respecting glaciers is to be found in "Agassiz's Etudes sur les Glaciers," in an excellent article in the "Edinburgh Review," No. CVI, and in Hugi's "Natur-historische Alpenreise;" but the ground-work is the excellent description of Saussure in his "Voyage dans les Alpes." |