A Month at G a 
 
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 MMMaMMaMMMMMaaMWH 
 
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 A MONTH AT GASTEIN : 
 
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 OR, 
 
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 WITH TWENTY-ONE ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 R. BENTLEY & SON, New Burlington Street, 
 
 Pul) listeria in ©rcinarp to tytt 09ajc0tv.
 
 LONDON: 
 PRINTED BY J. OGDEN AND CO. 
 
 I72, ST. JOHN STBEET, E.C.
 
 J)3 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. page 
 
 Across the Water 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 Amongst the Nightingales. 14 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 In Convent Walls 32 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 In the Shadows of the Past 40 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 A Noisy Watchman 59 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 A First Glimpse of Gastein 77 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 The Waters of Gastein 1)5 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 Taking a Bath 118 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 Rainy Days 138
 
 viii Contents. 
 
 CHAPTEE X. page 
 
 At the Table-d'hote 156 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Under the Moonbeams ... ... 172 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 The Red Flag -181 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 A Village Procession 198 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 Proverbs 221 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 A Thunder Storm • 239 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 At Lake Haxlstadt 262 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 Coming Back to the World 288
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Frontispiece : Gastein. page 
 
 Bruges Canal, with partial View oe Belfry . .11 
 
 Nuremberg 41 
 
 Berchtesgaden 55 
 
 Salzburg 61 
 
 Golling 65 
 
 Pass Lueg 7!) 
 
 Gastein : Straubinger's and Waterfall . . .97 
 St. Nicholas' Church and Hirsch Inn . . . Ill 
 
 Gastein Peasant 133 
 
 Upper Waterfall 143 
 
 Lower Waterfall . 149 
 
 Interior of a Cottage 159 
 
 The Doctor's House 191 
 
 Bockstein 215 
 
 Werfen 247 
 
 Gosau-Muhle, Lake Hallstadt 265 
 
 End of the Valley and Gosauswang .... 269 
 
 Hallstadt 279 
 
 Market Place, Hallstadt 283 
 
 Vorder-See, with the Dachstein in the back- 
 ground 293
 
 A MONTH AT GASTEIN. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ACROSS THE WATER. 
 
 <■> 
 
 
 
 rpHE brain wants a holiday," said the 
 ■*" learned doctor I had consulted. " You 
 cannot do better than go over to Gastein for 
 three months. Or, if you would prefer it, take 
 a trip to Alexandria and back in a P. and 0. 
 steamer." 
 
 This was no doubt good advice ; but to leave 
 work behind me for so long a time seemed 
 about as possible as to undertake a journey to 
 the moon, or the conversion of the South-Sea 
 Islanders. Still it has been said of old that 
 where there's a will there is also a way: and 
 though this proverb should of right belong 
 to the gentler sex, to whom it is undoubtedly 
 more applicable : it was not so very long after 
 the counsel had been given, that by a train of 
 
 B
 
 2 A Month at Gastrin. 
 
 circumstances bearing upon the project, I was 
 enabled to put it into execution. 
 
 So it happened that one morning I found 
 myself, with a companion, on the point of 
 starting from home and work, from familiar 
 scenes and faces, and well-known haunts, into 
 an uncertain fate and future. Good-byes were 
 over : those good-byes that are always sad in 
 this world, because a type of the last look, the 
 last handshake, the last twining of the arms 
 that comes to each at the closing scene of all. 
 At such moments the still small voice is wont to 
 make itself heard above the rattle of carriages 
 and the roar of trains, as we wonder whether 
 in the shadowy future it is recorded of us that 
 we shall again look upon those loved faces from 
 which we have just parted. 
 
 But after all there is something exhilarating 
 in rapidity of motion ; a sense of pleasure and 
 of power in being whirled away at the rate of 
 fifty miles an hour : scattering from the mind 
 all those dull vapours that reach the heart : 
 and so, whether we will or not, we yield our- 
 selves up to the pure enjoyment of the hour: the 
 sunshine and the quick changing scene.
 
 Across the Water. 3 
 
 On starting from Charing Cross the sky was 
 gray and cold. In less than half an hour the 
 clouds had rolled away, and we were in the full 
 glory of an early spring morning at the begin- 
 ning of May, 1870. 
 
 On nearing Dover, many anxious faces were 
 thrust out of various compartments for a 
 glimpse of the sea, which happily was calm, 
 blue, and unruffled as a lake. Not the shade 
 of a ripple, not the ghost of a swell, could be 
 conjured up by the liveliest imagination. A 
 general murmur of approbation that sounded 
 like the swarming of bees ; an access of colour 
 to cheeks that had grown pale and paler yet; 
 an increased interest in sundry packets of 
 sandwiches, that is so English and so un- 
 pleasant ; and we steamed on to the harbour. 
 
 After many inquiries, which resulted in as 
 many differences of opinion ; after many silent 
 meditations; I had decided to cross over to 
 Ostend, in preference to any other route : to 
 take Bruges and Ghent on the way ; Brussels, 
 Aix-la-Chapelle, Cologne, Coblenz, Munich, and 
 Salzburg. And this plan was carried out, with, 
 the exception of a slight alteration at Coblenz
 
 4 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 to enable us to visit the wonderful, old-world 
 town of Nuremberg. 
 
 When the train had stopped and dislodged 
 its load of passengers, we went on board the 
 Ostend boat, and my last remembrances of 
 land were the frantic efforts of a porter endea- 
 vouring to call attention to the fact that 
 there was due to him the sum of fourpence for 
 the transport of luggage. But at that moment 
 the rope slacked, the paddles turned, the boat 
 parted from the side. As we steamed away 
 the man threw himself into all the attitudes 
 of rage and disappointment, and called upon 
 the captain to put back in a manner that none 
 but a hardened nature could have resisted. 
 
 The white cliffs, dazzling in the sunshine, 
 gradually melted away in the distance ; one 
 object after another flickered and went out, 
 until at length the English coast was nothing 
 more than a recollection and a dream. Not 
 that I indulged in any sentimental reveries 
 upon the subject, after the fashion of poets 
 and others on leaving their native shores ; for 
 in the first instance, though England was my 
 country by what doctors would call the ties of
 
 Across the Water. 5 
 
 consanguinity, it was not so by the accident of 
 birth ; and secondly, I had seen its cliffs dis- 
 appear from sight far too often for the sensation 
 to elevate me into rhapsodies, or plunge me 
 into the depths of melancholy. 
 
 As the morning waned the water proved less 
 calm ; a few of the passengers began to ex- 
 perience a little of those realities that un- 
 doubtedly knock all romance out of the most 
 highly strung imaginations ; into many pairs 
 of eyes there came that look which may be 
 interpreted as a mute appeal to be cast into 
 the sea. But Time sets right all these tem- 
 porary derangements. Presently, Dunkerque 
 was passed, afar off, its great tower, containing 
 those wonderful chimes that challenge all other? 
 for sweetness, just visible. Then the flat coast 
 of Belgium: and in due time the good ship 
 was at anchor in the Ostend harbour. 
 
 How dreary and dismal the place looked, 
 shut up and divested of its summer appendages, 
 gay visitors included. How unattractive it 
 seemed, even when fancy coloured it with the 
 life and warmth of a full-flowing season. How 
 the wind whistled down its bare, ill-paved
 
 6 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 streets, blowing the sand into eyes and mouth, 
 causing coats to be wrapped round more closely, 
 collars put up, and caps drawn over eyes and 
 ears. How comfortable to cross the bridge of 
 the basin and disappear within shelter of the 
 station ! 
 
 In a few minutes the train started, and 
 soon reached Bruges. It happened to be a 
 Fete-day. The station was crowded with people 
 of all classes ; town-folk and peasants in the 
 various costumes of the nation : the latter 
 class for the most part of so low a type of 
 countenance as may be seldom seen ; more so 
 than you will often meet with amongst the vil- 
 lages of France : many of the men repulsive 
 both in feature and expression ; some of them 
 almost less than human. 
 
 It was a relief to turn from them towards 
 the town. The streets were decorated with 
 flags and evergreens, after-signs of a pro- 
 cession ; one of those everlasting processions 
 that are for ever taking place in Eoman 
 Catholic countries. Stretched across the 
 streets from the upper windows of the houses 
 were ropes holding flags and flowers, and bell-
 
 Across the Water. 7 
 
 shaped ornaments made of pieces of tobacco- 
 pipe and red flannel ; the ends finished off with 
 bits of glass cut in diamonds, that jangled in 
 the wind with an incessant but not unpleasant 
 sound. Here and there stood an altar in 
 process of demolition, nothing left of the grand- 
 eur that had been but the boards, carpets, and 
 green branches. The streets were still crowded 
 with gaily dressed men and women, prome- 
 nading about arm in arm with an air that only 
 foreigners know how to assume. Chattering, 
 laughing, sauntering ; now hailing a camarade 
 and forcing him to link-in with them; now 
 breaking out into the rampant chorus of some 
 popular song. The quiet streets of Bruges were 
 alive with noise and jollity, so that to get an 
 impression of the town in its every-day aspect 
 was impossible. It was the Mois de Marie, 
 and the people were doing homage thereto in 
 a manner that agreeably combined both the 
 sacred and the profane. 
 
 The cathedral, externally a disappointment, 
 was in its interior sufficiently imposing. The 
 churches of Bruges and Ghent are of the same 
 date and architecture, and bear a resemblance
 
 8 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 to each other which makes them afterwards 
 confusing to the memory. There were many 
 pictures in the cathedral, hut few, if any, 
 worthy of notice. One small painting, repre- 
 senting the children of Israel picking up 
 manna in the desert, was pointed out by the 
 guide. "Look, monsieur," said he, "this 
 poor man has dropped his money, and the 
 others are helping him to gather it." It was 
 impossible not to laugh at the interpretation ; 
 but as the man was no doubt better acquainted 
 with sous and francs, which brought him some 
 of the good things of this present life, it was 
 hardly worth while to enlighten his ignorance, 
 and disturb his convictions upon a matter that 
 concerned only the past. The statues and 
 images, the coarse artificial flowers, were more 
 tawdry and gaudy; in worse taste than is often 
 seen in a building of like pretension : con- 
 trasting — how strangely ! — with the gravity 
 and solemnity, the simple, stately beauty of 
 our English cathedrals, just then uppermost 
 in the mind. In the church of Notre Dame 
 was a statue of the Virgin and Child, cap- 
 tured from a ship on its way to Britain, and
 
 Across the Water. 9 
 
 said to be the work of Michael Angelo. 
 Whether so or not, it is beautifully executed. 
 The tombs of the Duke of Burgundy and his 
 daughter Mary, wife of the Emperor Maxi- 
 milian and grandmother of Charles the Fifth, 
 were remarkable, richly and most elaborately 
 wrought in copper-gilt. 
 
 Threading the narrow streets we turned 
 into the Grande Place, where in beauty and 
 height uprose the Belfry: on either side was 
 a wing, designed respectively for a fish market 
 and cloth hall. The place was so crowded 
 that it was impossible to mount to the top 
 of the tower, which affords an extensive view 
 of the surrounding plains. It was enough to 
 look from the balcony upon the multitude, 
 intent on pleasure-seeking. The Place was 
 crammed with stalls and booths, after the 
 manner of an English fair ; but here all re- 
 semblance ceased. Such language and people 
 and costumes are not to be seen in England. 
 The women, with large black silk hoods thrown 
 over their heads, looked ready for a fancy 
 ball, in appearance far more picturesque than 
 the men in their blue blouses. A yet greater
 
 io A Month at Gastein. 
 
 contrast existed in the ancient houses with 
 their peaks and gables, carrying you back in 
 imagination to the days of Old Spain. 
 
 The Chapelle du Saint Sang lay on the way 
 back to the station : a small Gothic building 
 of no pretension to beauty, so called because 
 it professes to possess a few drops of our 
 Saviour's blood, brought from Palestine by one 
 of the Counts of Alsace. It is enclosed in a 
 shrine of crystal and silver-gilt, in the form 
 of a long, thick ruler. A priest seated within 
 the altar-rails held up the shrine, which was 
 being kissed by a continuous stream of people. 
 Most of them seemed poor, and many were 
 afflicted with grievous maladies : a sight which 
 forbade lingering. 
 
 It was impossible to help admiring the 
 canal, with its old houses built in days when 
 people thought of beauty as well as usefulness; 
 its distant view of the belfry whose praise 
 Longfellow has sung ; its rows of Linden 
 trees in their first spring freshness, giving 
 tone and softness to the scene : a refreshing 
 picture of quiet life. Past all this we hur- 
 ried to the station, now more crowded than
 
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 Across the Water. 13 
 
 ever. Much talking in loud voices, some in 
 the bad French so prevalent in Belgium ; 
 much kissing and adieu-ing with furious ges- 
 ticulations, mingled with last messages and 
 instructions. All was noise and confusion ; 
 and as the Ghent train slowly rolled in and 
 slowly rolled out again, leisurely as a fat 
 Dutchman rolls out the smoke from his mid- 
 day pipe, we were not sorry to find ourselves 
 clear of the whirl and uproar of a Bruges 
 Fete-day.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 AMONGST THE NIGHTINGALES. 
 
 T71ROM Bruges to Ghent the country was flat 
 -*- and uninteresting, but the journey was soon 
 over, and happily disclosed the old town in its 
 ordinary, every-day repose. Ghent still pos- 
 sesses many traces of that dead-and-gone great- 
 ness that in the time of Charles V. made it per- 
 haps the largest and most populous city in 
 Europe. There are few signs of decay about, 
 and it is yet one of the finest old towns 
 to be seen. A not unpleasant place to live in, 
 and a very inexpensive one. At each step 
 there was something new to admire. First 
 the cathedral and belfry : then a sudden turn 
 opening on to the canal, all life and activity ; 
 its banks lined with houses more ancient, and 
 therefore more interesting, than those of Bruges. 
 Barges were being loaded; others, moving slowly 
 on, towed by men; women in their floating
 
 Amongst the Nightingales. 15 
 
 wash-houses beating linen, bringing down their 
 arms to bear with a force that would not have 
 shamed a blacksmith, laughing and chattering 
 with each other as they worked. 
 
 St. Bavon, the cathedral, is a Gothic build- 
 ing, tolerably grand and imposing, rich in 
 treasures of art and decoration. Eich espe- 
 cially in possessing the master-piece of the 
 brothers Van Eyck — " The Adoration of the 
 Lamb": one of the grandest pictures the 
 early Flemish school has produced ; not free 
 from the hardness, but possessing little of the 
 stiffness of that period. 
 
 In the centre, of the picture the Lamb is 
 seen, surrounded by adoring groups ; martyrs 
 bearing branches of palm ; apostles and 
 saints. The Fountain of the Water of Life 
 runs clear as crystal, its transparency reflect- 
 ing the glory around. Groves of the Tree of 
 Life are visible; and, in the distance, the towers 
 and bulwarks of the Holy City. In the fore- 
 ground is grass of the richest green, bright with 
 flowers painted with strange minuteness. For 
 awhile, gazing at the picture, you felt trans- 
 lated from the noise and strife of the world ;
 
 1 6 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 and turned away, reluctant to leave so much 
 beauty. 
 
 It would be impossible to note here, even by 
 a passing remark, many of the interesting 
 points of Ghent. Time and space, to be de- 
 voted to other matter, will admit but of a 
 hurried tracing of the footsteps of this portion 
 of the journey. In the Church of St. Michael, 
 the first thing to arrest attention was the win- 
 dow at the extreme end of the choir, rich in 
 colour and design, representing the Ascension. 
 Two pictures, also worthy of praise : the 
 Crucifixion, by Van Dyck ; and the Finding of 
 the Cross by the Empress Helena, by Paelink, 
 an artist of the present century. 
 
 Each turn in the streets disclosed something 
 to admire, or interesting from historical asso- 
 ciation. The Marche au Vendredi with its 
 ancient houses, just as they must have looked 
 in the days when Jacques van Artevelde headed 
 an insurrection of the citizens of Ghent against 
 their fellows : a fight pursued with such malig- 
 nant fury that the Host was brought out by the 
 priests before the enraged combatants, in the 
 hope that they would respect the Presence and
 
 Amongst the Nightingales. 1 7 
 
 disperse. But when men are mad with wine, 
 or blood, or hate, they lose all control over 
 themselves ; and the Presence, disregarded, had 
 to be withdrawn. When the citizens, united 
 by friendship and yet closer ties, had quenched 
 a little of their evil passions in a long, red 
 draught, they retired ; leaving upon the place 
 fifteen hundred slain to bear witness to their 
 sin and shame. 
 
 Van Artevelde, descended from a noble family 
 of Flanders, was in consequence called the 
 Brewer of Ghent, having enrolled as one of 
 that respectable corporation, and for the vanity 
 of popular favour made himself one of the people. 
 
 Here, too, later on, the Duke of Alva, that 
 scourge of the Netherlands, lighted the fires of 
 the Inquisition. This struck a fatal blow once 
 and for ever at the commercial prosperity of 
 Ghent. Thousands perished during the per- 
 secutions, and many of the best and bravest 
 citizens were scattered over the world. In more 
 prosperous times the old market-place was the 
 scene of all the magnificence and wealth dis- 
 played at the inauguration of the Counts of 
 Flanders. 
 
 c
 
 1 8 ..A Month at Gastein. 
 
 Proceeding on to the Marche au Poissons, 
 we passed under the gateway called the Oude- 
 burg, a relic of the castle of the Counts of 
 Flanders, founded, in 868, by Baldwin Bras de 
 Fer. It was once occupied by Edward the 
 Third, of England, and here John was born : 
 for this reason, to go back to school-day remem- 
 brances, surnamed of Gaunt, or Gent, or, as 
 more often spelt, Ghent; but amongst them- 
 selves as the world knows, Genf. 
 
 Edward the Third and Jacques Van Arte- 
 velde were closely allied, even by ties of friend- 
 ship. At his suggestion Edward adopted the 
 title of King of France, and quartered the 
 fleurs-de-lys with the arms of England : an 
 empty form not abandoned until the close of 
 the last century. 
 
 This intimacy with the English king was 
 ultimately the cause of Jacques' downfall. 
 Edward had been some years back in his own 
 land when he received an invitation from Van 
 Artevelde, offering to make him Lord of Flan- 
 ders, if he would come over. Edward, knowing 
 Van Artevelde's popularity, accepted the invi- 
 tation, and crossed the sea.
 
 Amongst the Nightingales. 19 
 
 But Van Artevelde had gone too far, as men 
 are wont to do who possess great power and 
 responsibility. For once his good sense for- 
 sook him, and the error was fatal. The men 
 of Ghent, incensed at the thought of being 
 ruled by a foreigner, rebelled. They had also 
 taken it into their heads that, during his admi- 
 nistration, he had secretly sent large sums of 
 money to England. The tide set in against 
 Van Artevelde ; the more fiercely, perhaps, for 
 his former popularity. 
 
 Jacques rode out of the town to meet Edward, 
 and, on his return, was amazed to find the 
 streets crowded with inflamed faces — with men 
 who shook their heads, and darted glances of 
 revenge at him ; the very men who, until now, 
 had bowed to the ground before him, hastening 
 to outstrip each other in obeying his commands, 
 and observing his wishes. A low murmur of 
 fierce anger, like the first undertones of a 
 mighty storm, ran through the multitude. 
 
 Hardly knowing what to make of it, yet 
 seeing that a strange change had come over the 
 people ; a conviction upon him that men who 
 had not spared their own flesh and blood in
 
 20 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 their fierce rage would as little hesitate to lift 
 hand against their ruler ; he hastened the pace 
 of his horse, entered his house, and made fast 
 the entrances. But what number of bars and 
 bolts can resist an enraged mob ? Artevelde, 
 seeing how matters stood, addressed them from 
 an upper window, trusting to calm their excite- 
 ment, and win himself back into favour. But 
 his voice, his entreaties, and his eloquence had 
 lost their charm. Never again would those 
 tones, that had so often stirred up thunders of 
 admiration and applause, be listened to. He 
 soon saw that his words were neither heard nor 
 heeded, and with a feeling of despair he closed 
 the window, and endeavoured to take refuge in 
 a church at the back of his house. But it was 
 useless; his star had set; his last moments 
 were come. With a yell of revenge, almost re- 
 sembling the cry of wild beasts, such a yell as 
 only now and then has gone up from the earth, 
 the doors were thrown down. The crowd rushed 
 in, and, without mercy, without a moment's re- 
 spite ; without the shriving of priest, or the con- 
 solation of the last rites of the Church ; poor 
 Jacques, the intimate of kings, the friend and
 
 Amongst the Nightingales. 2 1 
 
 favourite of the people, the man of power, 
 of bravery, of success, was put to death by 
 the very hands which had before sworn him 
 allegiance. 
 
 One of the most ancient relics of this anti- 
 quated town is a ruin outside its walls, once the 
 site of a Eoman temple. Subsequently it be- 
 came the monastery of St. Bavon. In a tower 
 are seen Eoman tiles and other remains, includ- 
 ing a few skulls and bones that, perchance, 
 would bear a great history, could we give them 
 a name. Even the uninitiated eye may trace 
 walls built in a style long since fallen into 
 disuse. The only part at all perfect is a beau- 
 tiful Romanesque Baptistry. It was worthy a 
 visit, if only to hear the old concierge, still 
 fresh and green, boast of his eighty-odd years ; 
 and how, when past the age allotted to man, 
 he had, by sheer hard work and digging, brought 
 to light the hidden repose of centuries. 
 
 At the opposite end of the town was the 
 Beguinage ; an institution that looks of the size 
 and importance of a small town, composed of 
 streets, squares, and a chapel ; the whole en- 
 closed by high walls, whose gates are closed at
 
 22 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 night. It is occupied by a colony of nuns, or, 
 more properly, Sisters, called Beguines, who pass 
 their lives in tending the sick, making lace, and 
 going out into the town — the humbler amongst 
 them — to assist in household work. Within 
 the gates it seemed quite a small distinct world, 
 row after row, dull and deserted. But within 
 the houses, all was life and activity on a quiet 
 scale. In one small house, the sister was 
 ironing linen, and it would have been 
 difficult to find a face nicer-looking, more 
 cheerful, good-tempered, and cleanly : the 
 embodiment of peace and contentment. She 
 seemed delighted to welcome visitors, and 
 showed the treasures of her two rooms with 
 pride and readiness. It is a famous institution, 
 of which there are several branches in Belgium, 
 enabling women to retire from the world ; yet, 
 as they are bound by no vow, permitting them 
 to return to it at any moment, if they wish to do 
 so. The poorest may enrol herself a member, 
 certain of a refuge and an asylum. 
 
 A night and a day spent in Ghent, and we 
 started for Brussels. All the world knows it ; 
 even those who have never been there have
 
 Amongst the Nightingales. 1 x 
 
 3 
 
 heard it so often described, that they see it as 
 in a dream. In the evening, we strolled out 
 through the stiff, straight avenues of the park 
 to the Palais de la Nation, and, turning down- 
 hill to the left, came upon the splendid church of 
 Ste. Gudule, magnificent in the twilight. The 
 lace shops were worthy their reputation, and 
 doubtless have witnessed many a piece of ex- 
 travagance since spoken of only in whispers. 
 
 Past these, we reached the Grande Place; 
 one of the interesting spots of Europe. This, 
 in truth, is Old Brussels. In front, in the 
 deepening twilight, its slender spire cutting the 
 clear background of the sky, was the Hotel de 
 Ville, exceeding in beauty all those exquisite 
 buildings for which the Netherlands are famous, 
 and of which the people are so proud. On all 
 sides stood the ancient and richly decorated 
 houses of the guilds; and, facing the Hotel de 
 Ville, most imposing of all, La Maison du Eoi, 
 in which Egmont and Horn passed the last 
 night of their lives. 
 
 Early the next morning we left the noise and 
 bustle of Brussels behind us. The journey to 
 Aix-la-Chapelle was pleasant and refreshing, for
 
 24 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 until now there had been little scenery to 
 occupy the attention. First came the rich 
 plain in gay spring dress. Then, on approach- 
 ing Liege, hills gradually appeared, growing 
 high and higher, until, winding through them, 
 a glimpse was caught of the beautiful Meuse, 
 which runs through some of the loveliest 
 scenery of Northern Europe. Liege town lies 
 in a valley, the hills falling back in a sort of 
 amphitheatre, cut and crossed by numerous 
 towers and spires. 
 
 Aix-la-Chapelle at last : and in the drive 
 from the station to the Hotel du Grand Mo- 
 narque, the eye searched in vain for some signs 
 of its antiquity. Though one of the oldest 
 towns in Germany, nothing was visible beyond 
 wide streets, and an unbroken line of modern 
 houses, straight, stiff, and respectable, but 
 guiltless of any more romantic idea than that 
 of a prosperous watering-place. 
 
 In the evening, tired and cramped with the 
 long journey, I walked over to Borcette, which 
 is but a mile from Aix. It was a close, warm 
 night, and Aix is situated in a hollow, sur- 
 rounded by low hills. Very little breeze finds
 
 Amongst the Nightingales. 25 
 
 its way into the town, which is, in consequence, 
 so oppressive and relaxing, that I felt as if a 
 month's stay there would render unnecessary 
 all thoughts of the future and Gastein. Bor- 
 cette, built at the foot of a hill, is still more 
 confined than the mother city. The railway 
 is carried across the narrow valley by an im- 
 mense viaduct. Close beside the hotel the 
 springs bubble up, a volume of steam rising 
 into the air. The valley is small, but pretty, 
 and thickly wooded. A narrow stream runs 
 through it; and seats, for the use of invalids, 
 were about in all directions. The groves 
 echoed with the song of the nightingale. 
 
 The next morning we took one of the loveliest 
 drives in the world. A continual ascent through 
 groves of beeches, now in their greatest beauty, 
 between which at intervals gleamed the rich 
 plain below. Leaving the carriage at the top 
 of the hill, and crossing to a break in the trees, 
 a view opened to the sight not often surpassed. 
 For miles stretched the rich and gently undula- 
 ting plain, dotted over with towns and villages. 
 In a slight depression, rather than vallpy, lay 
 Aix, looking venerable enough now with its
 
 26 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 cupolas and towers. In the midst of the city 
 rose the Chapelle of Charlemagne, conspicuous 
 by its dome and architecture, fashioned after 
 the Holy Temple at Jerusalem. Above was 
 the deep blue sky; and, overshadowing us, a 
 hawthorn, throwing far and wide its delicious 
 scent. Eejoicing in the spring and sunshine, 
 the birds seemed to outvie each other in songs 
 of praise. Every sense was soothed and 
 gratified, and the mind wandered away in 
 thought to ages far remote, when this rich and 
 fertile plain was the scene of mighty combats ; 
 of power struggling against power, and light 
 against darkness. From the time when the 
 Romans first extended their arms northward, 
 the land over which we now gazed had been the 
 scene of all that is most interesting in history, 
 and had held its part in all the great struggles of 
 Europe. 
 
 That same day a far different scene rose 
 before us. A few hours' journey brought us to 
 Cologne, and the quickly passing time was 
 chiefly spent in examining its wonderful trea- 
 sure. As we entered the cathedral, singing was 
 going on in the choir, and the effect of the far-
 
 Amongst the Nightingales. 27 
 
 off voices was to throw the hearer into a species 
 of trance. I sat down and listened, enraptured, 
 to the grand tones of the organ, as they went 
 surging and swelling through the mighty space : 
 space that seemed almost too great and awful 
 to have heen raised by human hands. Gazing 
 upwards at the enormous height, and onwards 
 through the long vista of pillars and arches, I 
 caught them sometimes singly and sometimes 
 in clusters as they intersected each other; here 
 and there dyed by the coloured beams of light, 
 as they struggled through the richly stained 
 windows. All sense of the world was lost. 
 When the organ ceased, and priests and 
 choristers filed out, I walked through the forest- 
 like building, and slowly paced its aisles. The 
 distant choir looked more a vision than 
 anything earthly, with its aisles and arches, its 
 pillars and statues, all veiled in the softened, 
 religious light of the ancient and beautiful 
 windows. 
 
 Of the exterior, the east end is the gem, so 
 grand, so beautiful in the light and shade 
 caused by the numerous chapels, the flying 
 buttresses and piers and pinnacles ; all so
 
 28 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 delicately wrought that it was difficult to say 
 which gave most delight: its fairy-like minute- 
 ness of detail, or its boldness and grandeur of 
 outline — unlike the rest of the building, softened 
 by that great beautifier as well as destroyer, 
 Time. When the cathedral stands complete, 
 with its triple spires of pierced work, it will 
 indeed be one of the glories, not only of 
 Germany, but of the whole world. A triumph 
 of the mind of man, who, out of the rock of 
 the wilderness has created a thing of beauty so 
 rare and exquisite : a tribute of praise and 
 adoration to the Maker of all beauty and all 
 power. 
 
 The journey to Coblenz, at first not parti- 
 cularly striking, soon grew very beautiful. A 
 rich, green plain, sprinkled with fruit-trees white 
 and heavy with blossoms ; avenues of lindens 
 and horse-chestnuts stretching far away in the 
 distance ; so cool and calm that you longed to 
 jump out and throw yourself under their shade, 
 and dream away the hours. After passing 
 Bonn the plain was quitted for the left bank of 
 the Rhine, and the scene became grander and 
 more wild. But the train whirled on so
 
 Amongst the Nightingales. 29 
 
 quickly that it afforded scarcely more than a 
 glimpse at places with which one would like to 
 grow familiar. High up in the air, once we 
 caught sight of an eagle, his outspread wings 
 cutting the clear sky ; his flight majestic ; now 
 as it were reposing upon the air, and now, with 
 a calm, dignified sweep, soaring away beyond 
 sight. ' When Coblenz .was reached at last, 
 we were not sorry that we made up our minds 
 to take here two or three days' rest. 
 
 The view from the windows of the Hotel du 
 Geant was enough to lure one on to a far longer 
 sojourn. Here you have the Ehine in one of 
 its most beautiful and romantic spots. Before 
 us flowed the calm, grand river, the castle and 
 fortress of Ehrenbreitstein forming a back- 
 ground to the view. Later, we crossed the 
 bridge of boats, and went up into the opposite 
 heights. Darkness had come on, and the 
 scene was enchanting. The pale beams of the 
 moon were thrown upon the water, which 
 caught their brightness and carried it rippling 
 and sparkling far down the stream. You might 
 fancy that a mermaid had passed that way, 
 her passage lighted by millions of tiny lamps
 
 30 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 that burnt on to do her homage. Hundreds of 
 nightingales filled the air with a flow of melody, 
 sufficiently distant not to disturb the feeling of 
 repose that crept over the spirit, as it gazed in 
 silence upon the unearthly scene. It would 
 have been easy to have passed the whole night 
 there in contemplation, unbroken by thought of 
 sleep. 
 
 Later on, indeed, with windows open to the 
 river, the song of the birds came floating across 
 the wide stream, so distinct and incessant, yet 
 so beautiful in softness and melody, that sleep 
 was charmed away. It was an utterly delight- 
 ful sensation : listening to the bird-music ; 
 to an occasional plash upon the water from 
 some midnight oar ; to feel that between this 
 and England there was the difference not of 
 space merely, but of a world ; that it was 
 Wonderland; Khineland; the land of poetry 
 and beauty and romance ; of much that is 
 great and noble ; glorious in nature, eminent 
 in man, powerful in genius. 
 
 Once I went out to the balcony. The stars 
 were flashing like diamonds, the moon was still 
 visible, bright and silvery in the dark blue sky.
 
 Amongst the Nightingales. % I 
 
 o 
 
 Everything was wrapped in night. The for- 
 tress was sunk in gloom, save for the light and 
 shade thrown out by the moonlight. The 
 heights and the sky seemed to have melted into 
 one ; not a soul was abroad. On all lay the 
 stillness of sleep and repose; the death of 
 nature. But, wafted across the stream in wave 
 after wave of melody, floating, throbbing, soft 
 and beautiful as the song of an Eastern dream, 
 came the notes sweet, clear, and unceasing of 
 the nightingales.
 
 T 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 IN CONVENT WALLS. 
 
 HE next morning we started off in search of 
 Moselweiss. Some few months before, a 
 young English lady, not twenty years of age, 
 whom I had known intimately, had embraced 
 the Roman Catholic religion, and gone over 
 there to a convent. I had heard nothing of 
 her since her entrance, and determined to find 
 her out. Thinking it within the bounds of 
 probability that she would eventually take the 
 veil, I wanted to see in what sort of place her 
 future life would be passed. 
 
 Moselweiss was about half an hour's walk 
 from Coblenz, a walk of extreme beauty. Near- 
 ing the village, a large building, to which an 
 immense wing was being added, announced 
 the Convent des Sceurs de la Visitation. In a 
 few moments the door-bell went echoing through 
 corridors with a sharp, unpleasant clang, that
 
 In Convent Walls. 33 
 
 in itself seemed full of tones of mystery and 
 rigour. In answer there came forth one of the 
 humbler sisters, dressed as a nun ; short and 
 plain, but with a pleasant, good-natured face. 
 Nevertheless it bore an 'expression of stupidity, 
 heightened perhaps at sight of a member of 
 the male sex, when at most her imagination 
 had anticipated no more formidable arrival 
 than the butter-woman, or a sick peasant. 
 Quickly she ushered us into a narrow pas- 
 sage made for the accommodation of visitors; 
 on one side a window, with a hard, long bench 
 beneath it ; opposite, a large grating, protecting 
 closely-fastened shutters. 
 
 After waiting about ten minutes, there was a 
 movement behind the shutters, a rustling of 
 soft gowns, a murmur of voices, the bolts were 
 undrawn, the immense shutters swung back in 
 
 double folds upon their hinges, and A 
 
 appeared, accompanied by a nun. It would be 
 impossible to forget the change in the girl's 
 face when I first caught sight of her ; stiff, 
 immovable, and nunlike : only the dress want- 
 ing to complete the transformation. 
 
 Her astonishment at seeing one whom she 
 
 D
 
 34 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 supposed far away was unbounded. For a 
 moment she could not utter a word ; then the 
 frigid expression fell away like a child's house 
 of cards, before the pleasure of beholding a home- 
 face. A glad exclamation followed, but the 
 grating prevented a hand-clasp. 
 
 " Qui est-ce, mon enfant?" asked the soft 
 voice of the nun, in the high-bred tones of her 
 native French. 
 
 "Ma sceur, c'est l'ami de mon frere." 
 
 " Alors, mon enfant, je ne veux pas vous 
 faire montrer comme ca. Je vous ferai 
 passer." 
 
 I was surprised that they allowed her to 
 come round ; still more, to remain alone 
 with a heretic ; and yet more, when, presently, 
 she craved permission to go out and spend 
 the day with us, it was granted. 
 
 The walk back to Coblenz was full of old 
 times; and as the day wore on we touched upon 
 
 the convent and convent life. A , reserved 
 
 upon all points, would say very little; but 
 declared she had never been so happy as now. 
 The nuns were everything kind, pleasant, 
 and delightful.
 
 In Convent Walls. 35 
 
 " People," she said, " have a most erro- 
 neous idea of a convent life. They think it 
 very much now as it used to be in the days of 
 the old monks " 
 
 " Who crossed themselves when they met in 
 passages, dropped their eyes, and repeated for 
 ever ' Memento mori.' " 
 
 " It is not so bad as that," she returned. 
 " But the world imagines that a nun's whole 
 life is passed in gravity and penance ; in a 
 round of rigid religious observances ; that a 
 laugh is never heard within the convent walls, 
 and recreation is unknown." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Nothing can be more mistaken. We, in 
 our hours of leisure, are as merry as you in 
 the world : and ours, I believe, is the more 
 satisfying happiness. When at work we laugh 
 and talk amongst ourselves, and do not sit, as 
 you fancy, as if undergoing a perpetual sen- 
 tence of death. We are perfectly at rest ; we 
 have done with the world ; its cares and 
 worry ; its heart-burnings and jealousies ; its 
 frivolities and love of pleasure." 
 
 " But are you not sent into the world to
 
 36 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 enjoy it in moderation ? To fight and struggle 
 with whatever is wrong ; to gain strength out 
 of weakness ? If you conquer merely by 
 avoiding ; by shutting yourself out of the way 
 of temptation and the world ; you have gained 
 no victory. You are guilty of cowardice ; of weak- 
 ness greater than that of a worldly nature ; 
 guilty, I believe, of a deliberate wrong." 
 
 " Oh no," she replied. " That is the way 
 you narrow-minded people argue. You can- 
 not discern our glorious sacrifice in renounc- 
 ing the world, its pomps and pleasures. Our 
 hearts, after all, are but human. Is it not 
 a beautiful thing to crush our hearts, and 
 give up all for the sake of Heaven?" 
 
 " You were never sent into the world to 
 live apart from it. Your idea is romantic ; 
 the result of youth. The highest and noblest 
 lot is to live in the world, amongst its attrac- 
 tions and temptations, and not to become their 
 slave. But why do you say so emphatically 
 ' we ' ? Why speak as if you were already a 
 nun ? Surely you would never separate your- 
 self for ever from your people, and take the 
 veil?"
 
 In Convent Walls. 37 
 
 She would give no direct answer. 
 
 " I should never do it," she replied at 
 length, " without being quite certain of my- 
 self, and of my future happiness." 
 
 That afternoon, we went up the Ehine in 
 the steamer as far as Stolzenfels, and the 
 short journey was enlivened by a large party, 
 half English, half Americans, who talked with 
 a grand air in loud tones, and gave remark- 
 able opinions upon surrounding objects and 
 the society of the world in general. They 
 improved, too, upon the ordinary rules of 
 grammar, and introduced exceptions which 
 happily exist not elsewhere. At Stolzenfels 
 we landed, and they went on, their laughter 
 and loud tones floating backwards in the wake 
 of .the vessel. 
 
 As we walked up the winding road ; between 
 banks covered with rare wild flowers ; amidst 
 trees bright with early spring ; gazed into the 
 ravine, and upwards at the ancient castle 
 proudly and grimly overlooking the waters of 
 the river ; it was an easy task to fancy 
 ourselves taking part in one of the many 
 legends of the Ehine, transported back a
 
 38 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 few centuries in the world's history and 
 age. 
 
 Having spent some time here, we were 
 quietly rowed back toCoblenz. After dinner (it 
 
 was Friday, by the way, and A religiously 
 
 eat maigre) we drove in the cool of the even- 
 ing to the convent. As A disappeared 
 
 through the small doorway, a presentiment 
 told me that she would one day pass 
 through it never to come out again. 
 
 Time has proved its truth. War broke out, 
 
 and A returned for a time to England 
 
 and the gaieties of the world. When peace 
 was restored she went back to her convent ; 
 and not long since, she and her sister took the 
 black veil, and vows that can never be 
 recalled. 
 
 Do they ever regret it ? ever cast back a 
 longing thought to the world and the friends 
 they have renounced ? ever wish themselves 
 once more amidst its pleasures and attractions ? 
 They do not say. But it seems impossible that 
 an act so unnatural on the part of young girls 
 of twenty, full of health and life and spirit, 
 should not some day be repented ; when the
 
 In Convent Walls. 39 
 
 glow of romance has subsided into calm, 
 matter of fact reality. 
 
 Driving back to the hotel in the quiet of 
 the evening, — twilight gradually falling upon 
 
 the world and veiling it — in tracing out A 's 
 
 history, it was impossible to avoid observing 
 how strangely our destinies seem marked out 
 for us ; and how, frequently, by taking matters 
 into our own hands, we turn aside our lives.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 IN THE SHADOWS OF THE PAST. 
 
 YI7E had intended to go from Coblenz to 
 ' ^ Munich, but changed our plans to visit 
 that wonderful old place, Nuremberg. 
 
 Who has not heard of Nuremberg, so famous 
 for centuries ? Famous, too, from many dif- 
 ferent causes — like a universal genius, able to 
 shine in everything. At various periods of its 
 history the most important manufacturing town 
 in Germany ; the birthplace of inventions ; the 
 cradle of the fine arts, the home of German 
 freedom. With Nuremberg's name will ever 
 be linked that of Albert Diirer ; each gaining 
 dignity from the other. Nuremberg was just 
 the place to give light to a great painter, though 
 in those days some three or four hundred years 
 younger than it is now. Yet its narrow, strag- 
 gling, uneven streets, its quaint, gabled houses, 
 could never have had a childhood or youth.
 
 o 
 w 
 
 M
 
 In the Shadows of the Past. 43 
 
 Certainly they look old enough to satisfy 
 the most exacting lover of antiquity. 
 
 The hotel was a large, rambling building, 
 with staircases and passages and corridors in 
 the most unexpected, out-of-the-way places. 
 After the luxury of Coblenz it seemed rude 
 and comfortless ; yet who would have had it 
 different ? From the windows of a room, large, 
 but otherwise guiltless of comfort, we looked 
 down upon a scene, before which, in spite of 
 fatigue and hunger, I remained long riveted. 
 No longer the beauty of scenery; of winding 
 rivers and green trees ; of fruit blossoms, and 
 cloud-capped mountains. These had given 
 place to the work of man, but of generations 
 long since gone to their rest. How hard to 
 realise that human ingenuity had produced the 
 surrounding buildings ! It was the record, the 
 silent monument, of a past age ; testifying to 
 the things and people that had been; showing 
 them up in all the dignity of their mind, the 
 simplicity of their nature. 
 
 How easy to imagine Albert Diirer threading 
 these streets more than three centuries ago, 
 their still diguity so in accordance with that of
 
 44 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 his own temperament. The place once seen, 
 it seems possible to trace a subtle link of con- 
 nection between it and his pictures. His old 
 house appears just as he left it, and is now 
 inhabited by a band of artists who reverentially 
 treat the old place for his sake. Looking down 
 upon it, you might fancy you saw his large, 
 sweet face, with the soft, gentle eyes peering at 
 you from out the dark shadows. In the ceme- 
 tery, just outside the town, stands his grave — 
 which, nevertheless, it is thought does not 
 actually hold his body — and the grave of his 
 dearest friend (not his wife, alas, for poor 
 Diirer) ; and though they lie not side by side, 
 yet they are near enough, doubtless, to find 
 each other in that great day, when they shall 
 awake for ever from their long, silent slumber. 
 He sleeps calmly ; he has forgotten the 
 world ; he rests from his labours and his 
 domestic troubles ; but the world is faithful to 
 him, and remembers him as well now as in the 
 days of his youth and strength. The little 
 woman in the picture gallery, as she swung 
 back the shutters of paintings by other and 
 less celebrated men, talked of him long and
 
 In the Shadows of the Past. 45 
 
 fast. She seemed as proud of him as if he 
 had been her own ancestor, and bewailed the 
 fate that debarred her from keeping guard over 
 his pictures. But Nuremberg, that gave light 
 to these riches, possesses them not. For the 
 world perhaps it is as well, since comparatively 
 few people visit the ancient town. 
 
 The next day, Sunday, the w r hole place 
 seemed to have turned out for a holiday, 
 dressed in its best : and many a strange con- 
 trast might have been drawn between the aged 
 streets and houses, and the smart caps and 
 coats and dresses of a more modern fashion. 
 It was impossible to help fancying that the old 
 town in which these people lived, the quaint 
 buildings, must have some influence upon their 
 minds and character. Scarcely possible to 
 grow up with a nature altogether hard, prosy, 
 and unromantic. Yet no great men come from 
 it now ; the glory of the town has passed away. 
 But the beauty and grandeur of its antiquity; 
 the strange impression of a past world, a dead 
 age, that comes over you as you walk its streets, 
 nothing can take away, and perhaps no other 
 town can give.
 
 46 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 Time passes quickly when counted by days 
 and hours. Soon, therefore, we had bidden 
 farewell to Nuremberg, and were once more en 
 voyage, with faces turned towards Munich. 
 
 That gay, lively, charming capital! The 
 home of artists. That has not only nursed 
 them, but cherishes and hands down to fame 
 and posterity so many of their best works. A 
 long drive in the clattering, springless omnibus 
 landed us, about ten o'clock at night, at the 
 Hotel des Quatre Saisons, a large, comfortable 
 building, conducted, omnibus excepted, on ex- 
 cellent principles. 
 
 Early the next morning, I was awakened by 
 the tramp of soldiers marching past, and a 
 splendid band, that caused me to spring up, 
 even at the first moment of consciousness, 
 with a feeling of being far away from England. 
 But how different was the town at a subsequent 
 visit ! Now all was quiet and peaceful; people 
 were going about their work as if nothing 
 would ever occur to interrupt the even current 
 of their lives ; no foreshadowing of evil was 
 creeping into their hearts ; no silent messenger 
 whispering to the young maidens, wives,
 
 In the Shadows of the Past. 47 
 
 mothers, that ere long many of them would 
 mourn a lover, husband, or child. But the 
 change was coming; at that second, later, visit 
 the decree had gone forth. Then everything 
 was hurry, and excitement, and emotion. The 
 streets re-echoed with the tramp of soldiers, 
 as regiment after regiment passed through 
 them on the way to battle. Those who re- 
 member how the Bavarian troops distinguished 
 themselves ; how they were invariably put in 
 front of the fight, and thrown into all positions 
 of danger — unfair as it seems, and reads — 
 will realize how vast a number of those brave 
 men never returned to the hearts and homes 
 made desolate for ever. The town was all 
 excitement. The faces of men and women had 
 grown long; eyes were red with weeping ; hearts 
 heavy and oppressed ; steps uncertain, here 
 rapid and nervous, there slow and lingering ; 
 the result of a trouble too great to bear. All 
 speech, save on the one absorbing ■ topic, had 
 been abandoned. 
 
 But at this, our first, visit to Munich none of 
 these rumours and signs of preparations had 
 yet appeared ; the storm-clouds then gathering,
 
 48 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 though not so very far below the horizon, 
 were still unsuspected. 
 
 The town itself seemed one of the most 
 charming places in the world. It might well 
 be called a city of palaces, so large were its 
 buildings, so handsome, so white, so dignified, 
 and so numerous. The town appeared in a 
 chronic state of perfection, the streets so clean 
 and fresh looking you could scarcely fancy them 
 inhabited. It may be that I was unconsciously 
 influenced by the contrast with Nuremberg; 
 but I have seldom been impressed with any 
 town as I was with a first view of Munich. 
 
 It could boast but little in the matter of 
 churches ; but there are so many wonderful 
 churches all over the world, that this is easily 
 forgiven in a place abounding with other attrac- 
 tions. The theatre was small but pretty, 
 and the performance good, considering that 
 none of the singers were of any distinction. 
 The opera, that first night, was " Le Domino 
 Noir," given in German, and given well. The 
 acting, as is generally the case in France and 
 Germany, was superior to anything we see even 
 in our best houses. More lively and imagina-
 
 In the Shadows of the Past. 49 
 
 tive, less heavy than the English, the Germans 
 and French possess a faculty of throwing 
 themselves into their characters, of losing their 
 own individuality in the part they are playing, 
 seldom attained by us. In Paris a play is 
 almost always worth seeing, no matter what it 
 is, or where performed ; it is not possible to 
 say as much for London. 
 
 But the picture galleries contain the great 
 treasures of Munich — the old and new Pina- 
 cothek. Here the old masters repose in all 
 their glory. Italian, French, Dutch, and 
 German Schools : some of the best works of 
 Eubens, Rembrandt, Albert Diirer, Holbein, 
 the brothers Van Eyck — those men who first 
 invented painting on canvas — Vandyke, Murillo, 
 Titian, Eaphael, Tintoretto, and many others 
 of world-wide fame. Days and weeks would 
 pass quickly in the study of these chefs-d'oeuvre. 
 In the works of Andreas Van der Werff, the 
 collection was especially rich, one small side 
 cabinet being entirely given up to him : and 
 their soft, quiet, finished beauty was one of the 
 charms of the whole collection. 
 
 The Glyptothek contained also a rare col- 
 
 E
 
 50 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 lection of sculpture : one of its most re- 
 markable pieces a statue of Ceres holding a 
 torch, searching for Proserpine, the head, 
 shoulder and arms of white marble, the flowing 
 drapery of black. The beauty of the small 
 classical head, with its perfect features, the ex- 
 treme beauty of the whole figure, would be diffi- 
 cult to describe. Another was a sculptured figure 
 of Apollo in white marble, by Thorwaldsen. 
 
 After a few days' rest — rest from travel 
 though rest in no other sense — we reluctantly 
 bid farewell to Munich and its attractions. 
 
 Salzburg was to be the next and final desti- 
 nation before Gastein, and one hot, sunny 
 morning we turned our faces thitherward. The 
 journey, most picturesque and interesting, lying 
 amongst views differing froni any yet encoun- 
 tered, lasted some hours, almost constantly in 
 sight of the great Alpine range of mountains 
 to the south. When Salzburg was at length 
 reached, we found ourselves amidst a perfect 
 intoxication of gorgeous landscape. 
 
 It was indeed wonderful. The view from 
 the windows of the Hotel cle l'Europe could 
 never be forgotten.
 
 In the Shadows of the Past. 5 1 
 
 Below, at some little distance, lay the town, 
 its houses shining out white and hot in the 
 glaring sunshine. Towering on the summit of 
 a rock was the castle, once the residence of 
 the archbishops, but long since dismantled of 
 its glories of state and splendour. Around, 
 stretched the mountains, pile after pile, one 
 above another, the dazzling snow a strange, 
 unearthly sight in the midst of heat so intense. 
 Through the town, with the speed of a torrent, 
 cleaving its way between the chain of Noric 
 Alps, rushed the Salza ; sweeping on past hills 
 and vales, wooded slopes and abrupt precipices, 
 until at length, joining the Danube, it mingled 
 its waters with those of that ancient river. 
 
 The intense azure blue of the sky could 
 not very easily be seen in England : and the 
 mountains caught the reflection and tinged the 
 snow with a colour that was not of earth. 
 Small silver threads and streams of snow here 
 and there ran down the slopes, until, within a 
 certain distance of the level, they melted and 
 disappeared. Later on, the church bells rang 
 out ; the air caught up the reverberation ; and 
 amidst the surrounding beauty, the mysterious,
 
 52 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 fast-falling twilight, it required no vivid fancy 
 to believe yourself listening to a chorus of far- 
 off, unseen spirits, guardians of the wondrous 
 scene. 
 
 This place gave birth to Mozart. Here he 
 lived his first years, drinking-in influences that 
 filled his heart and mind with those unutter- 
 able melodies. A strange unison must have 
 existed between his spirit and his home. His 
 love of the beautiful gloried and delighted in 
 the perfection of nature around him : the dig- 
 nity of the snow-capped, everlasting hills ; 
 always there, always the same ; always cold, 
 grand, silent, stern, unbending ; but lovable 
 and soul-stirring ; true and faithful. He need 
 never doubt how he should meet them ; how 
 they would greet him. No frown or unkind 
 word ; no impatience or anger. More constant 
 ever than man's friendship. 
 
 Mozart was born in a large, old-fashioned 
 house in the most unromantic part of the town; 
 a narrow, crowded street, shut out from all 
 beauties. After a time his parents moved to a 
 more open spot ; and from the windows of the 
 new home, the child could look out upon the
 
 In the Shadows of the Past. 53 
 
 hills and wonder : could hold commune with 
 them in the language that no doubt was even 
 then speaking within him. In after-life he 
 must have cast back many a thought to this 
 early home ; have roamed in spirit, in the 
 dark night-hours, over those wonderful moun- 
 tains ; down the seething torrent, its rushing 
 sound so much music to his ears : setting all 
 to melody, until in a wild, incomprehensible 
 rapture he would fall asleep, and dream of a 
 paradise and beings not of this world. 
 
 For miles round Salzburg the scenery is 
 beyond description. A drive of three hours 
 through mountains ; wooded slopes, here and 
 there dotted with white cottages ; at intervals 
 a small village, an inn, or a tollbar ; to your 
 left hand a shallow, gurgling, swift-flowing 
 river; now passing gently through pastures 
 gorgeous with their multitude of wild flowers ; 
 now leaping down and gathering fresh force 
 for its course : such a drive brings you to 
 Berchtesgaden and the wonderful Konigsee. 
 
 A handful of houses clustering amongst the 
 mountains, whose snow-crowned peaks and 
 summits towered on every side : the houses
 
 54 A Month at Gastrin. 
 
 hiding amidst trees like a shy coquette ; the 
 river flowing through in a winding, capricious 
 manner : this, and a nameless charm that 
 must be seen and experienced and cannot be 
 written, made of Berchtesgaden an earthly 
 paradise, if one there be. 
 
 Beyond lay the Konigsee, one of the most 
 notable lakes of Germany. On all sides the 
 mountains rose so precipitously that in many 
 places there was not space for a footpath. So 
 deep was the lake that here and there the 
 water was almost black as ink : and involun- 
 tarily, you shuddered as the boat cut through 
 the dead-like quietness, where the cold moun- 
 tain sides were reflected upon the surface : a 
 feeling more subtle than any felt on a raging 
 
 sea. 
 
 The dark fir-trees, growing on the mountains 
 gave them a deep, melancholy appearance, that 
 corresponded with the sad, green colour of the 
 water. Here and there, far up, standing like 
 a fly upon a wall, was perched a goat, lost in 
 the great stretch. A short row, and the lake 
 opened in its extent; the snow mountains at 
 the end rose in majesty and splendour, their
 
 a 
 
 Q 
 <! 
 O. 
 to 
 
 bl 
 
 K 
 o 
 
 K
 
 In the Shadows of the Past. 5 7 
 
 dazzling whiteness contrasting with and some- 
 what relieving the solemn-looking firs on either 
 side. On the left of the lake was a waterfall 
 of rugged and romantic beauty ; on the right 
 the pilgrimage chapel of St. Bartholomew with 
 its small cupola domes, creating a wonder as 
 to how in the world, or why, it had got there. 
 
 The drive back to Salzburg, when the sun 
 had long passed the meridian and the heat 
 had grown less unbearable, was in the highest 
 degree enjoyable. Yet its beauties were less 
 palpable than in the morning. The chief 
 points in the scenery opened out less forcibly ; 
 many of them lay behind : and the mind, full 
 of the impression of the wild grandeur of the 
 lake, was more inclined to dwell upon and 
 retain what it had seen, than to be looking out 
 for new sensations. As in everything else, 
 there are times when the mind grows weary of 
 the beauties of nature, and until it has taken 
 rest the senses cease to charm. 
 
 The Hotel de l'Europe was reached at last. 
 And unfortunately for those etherealized mor- 
 tals who consider that the gratified desires of 
 the spiritual should be food sufficient for the
 
 58 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 more earthly elements of our nature, I must 
 confess to returning in a desperate state of 
 hunger. The excellent and luxurious cuisine 
 had justice done to it as full and faithful as 
 if I had not for many hours heen revelling in 
 all those beauties of creation that tend to 
 elevate and refine mankind.
 
 CHAPTEE V. 
 
 A NOIBY WATCHMAN. 
 
 FT! HE RE is no railway between Salz- 
 -*- burg and Gastein. The only mode of 
 communication is by diligence ; or by hiring a 
 private carriage, which opens and closes at 
 pleasure of the traveller. 
 
 This diligence was a lumbering machine after 
 the fashion of its kind ; but the horses were 
 decent, and moved at a tolerably quick pace. 
 Yet it was impossible thus to journey without 
 losing a great part of the surrounding scenery ; 
 an idea not to be entertained for a moment, 
 except by those who, like the guard and coach- 
 man, have traversed the route so frequently, 
 that familiarity has robbed it of its charm. 
 
 For one person, where economy is an object, 
 the diligence is the quickest and best means of 
 reaching Gastein. A carriage cannot do it 
 under two days, without relays of post horses ; 
 and even then the fatigue is considerable. But
 
 60 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 if two or more are travelling, it is almost as 
 inexpensive to hire a carriage. The latter 
 holds four ; so that an amicable parti-carre 
 may travel for the price of one. In many- 
 parts of the Tyrol, where there is no railroad, 
 this is a consideration not to be lost sight of. 
 Another consideration is, the importance of 
 travelling with the smallest possible amount of 
 luggage. This the Germans never forget. 
 Sometimes I have charitably concluded that 
 they must have brought with them at least a 
 change of linen ; but from the extent of their 
 baggage it would have puzzled a conjuror to 
 discover where it was stowed away. The Eng- 
 lish more frequently find their unwieldy trunks 
 (not small in number by way of balance) have 
 cost them in the end far more than they cost 
 themselves : and certainly infinitely more 
 trouble and anxiety. 
 
 Herr Jung, the landlord of the Hotel de 
 l'Europe, strongly advocated a carriage in pre- 
 ference to the diligen3e. Indeed, he went 
 beyond the boundary of mere counsel, and 
 agreeably settled the matter by saying that it 
 was the only course to be adopted, and that he
 
 « 
 
 m 
 
 N 
 ►J 
 
 o
 
 A Noisy Watchman. 63 
 
 would make it his business to select au easy 
 conveyance and a good coachman. We were 
 loth to leave a place so beautiful, and could 
 scarcely have done so, but that it was in our 
 plan to return to it again. It would be impos- 
 sible to speak too highly of the hotel, of its 
 comfort and good management ; and of its un- 
 rivalled site. 
 
 Afternoon had set in when we started for 
 Gastein in an open carriage, at the quiet pace 
 of a pair of horses. Golling, that evening's 
 destination, ought to be reached about seven 
 o'clock : and I was anxious to get there before 
 nightfall, for the purpose of visiting a famous 
 waterfall in the neighbourhood. 
 
 In time we reached the village of Hallein, 
 at the foot of the Durrenberg, noted for its 
 salt mines. I had entered a salt mine at 
 Berchtesgaden, and felt no desire to repeat 
 the experiment. In most respects it was dis- 
 appointing, fulfilling none of those visions of 
 lofty caverns, and stately pillars, and grand 
 arches, blazing and flashing like diamonds, 
 that somehow float in the mind in connection 
 with the subject. Explored also by many
 
 64 A 'Month at Gastein. 
 
 ladies : who surely would not be bold enough to 
 venture did they but know what lay before them. 
 Sliding down a very long and steep incline of 
 wood, astride on the back of a miner, at a 
 breathless rate, is one of the inevitable and 
 not very feminine feats to be performed during 
 the inspection. ■ 
 
 Without halting at Hallein, we drove on 
 through scenery growing each moment more 
 wild and grand. Crossing the Salza and 
 ascending the right bank, the valley narrowed ; 
 and soon we perceived rising the wild mass 
 of the Tannengebirge, a long, uninterrupted 
 chain of mountain. The next village was 
 Kuckl; and between six and seven o'clock Gol- 
 ling was entered, and that day's journey came 
 to an end. 
 
 The quaintest village ever seen : consisting 
 of one long, winding street ; a crude, unworldly 
 aspect about the houses, which all resembled 
 each other, and gave to the place a primitive 
 appearance that reminded you of nothing so 
 much as a Quaker-settlement. Every house was 
 whitewashed, and looked almost dazzlingly 
 clean. Each roof was pointed and over-

 
 A Noisy Watchman. 67 
 
 hanging; large stones were placed here and 
 there as a protection against the fall of winter 
 snows. The effect of this uniformity was 
 pleasing to a stranger, because the architecture 
 — to apply a ridiculously grand word to the 
 most humble of buildings — was so marked and 
 uncommon : but the stiffness of the whole 
 was less so. At the entrance of the village 
 stood a toll-bar : a long pole with a heap 
 of stones at one end, that balanced the pole 
 upwards when the rope holding it was un- 
 fastened. By this means at night the keeper 
 is enabled, without getting up, in answer to 
 the horn carried by most of the post-boys, to 
 slacken the rope and raise the bar. 
 
 Not less primitive than the village was the 
 inn ; and if the rooms were not luxuriously 
 furnished, they were large and clean. But it 
 was not so primitive in all respects : the land- 
 lord knew how to charge. Taking all things 
 into consideration and comparison, it was on 
 the whole the dearest place we stayed at in 
 Germany : dearer than the best hotels in 
 Munich (which are not dear) ; certainly more 
 advanced than the Hotel de l'Europe. Vexed,
 
 68 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 and a little indignant at the bill, I determined 
 that Golling should not be the halting place on 
 the return journey. But our best laid plans, 
 like many of our good intentions, often come 
 to nought ; and on that subsequent journey, it 
 so happened that, spite of foregone resolutions, 
 it was found impracticable to stop anywhere else. 
 
 The village is surrounded by mountains that 
 from their peculiar form look higher than they 
 are in reality : on one side they are sufficiently dis- 
 tant to admit of a rich and fertile plain. Whilst 
 tea was brewing at the inn, I strolled out into 
 the village for a moment, and into the church, 
 which had no beauty to recommend it ; and on 
 the exterior were several representations in 
 relief from the New Testament, let into the 
 wall, rather revolting for their ugliness. The 
 graveyard was in perfect order, many of the 
 simple stones bearing inscriptions from the 
 Book of "Wisdom. One text seemed especially 
 a favourite : 
 
 " But the souls of the righteous are in the 
 Hand of God, and there shall no torment touch 
 them. In the sight of the unwise they seem to 
 die; and their departure is taken for misery, and
 
 A Noisy Watchman. 69 
 
 their going from us to be utter destruction : but 
 they are in peace." 
 
 Somehow, to find the well-known text in 
 this primitive, out-of-the-way world ; so far 
 from home, from all familiar objects ; brought 
 to the mind more forcibly than anything 
 else could have done, the fact that distant 
 as nations are separated from each other, oppo- 
 site as they may be in habits, manners, cus- 
 toms, thoughts, still they possess the one great 
 link that binds them together: the same faith, 
 the same hope ; even as they must all pass 
 through the one same dark portal of death. 
 Alike in the great, eternal Creed. 
 
 Over all there was an air of quiet and re- 
 pose, an atmosphere of sanctity that made 
 itself felt if it could not be seen, proclaiming 
 with what reverence these people regard their 
 religion. 
 
 Tea quickly despatched, we started off for 
 the waterfall, a young blacksmith's boy acting 
 as guide. 
 
 He was a lad of about sixteen, but looked 
 at least two or three years younger. His ex- 
 pression at a first glance seemed stupid, bor-
 
 *jo A Month at Gastrin. 
 
 dering on deficiency; but as we went on, and 
 he began to talk, his face lighted up with in- 
 talligence. 
 
 " Have you a father or mother ?" I asked. 
 
 " No," was the reply, "both dead." 
 
 " Any brothers and sisters ?" 
 
 " Two sisters and one brother. All out at 
 work and doing for themselves." 
 
 " Are they older than you?" 
 
 Yes. He was the youngest of all. 
 
 " What work do you do ?" 
 
 The question was unneeded, for the boy's 
 complexion sufficiently betrayed his occupation ; 
 but it followed naturally. 
 
 " Schmidt," said he, with such a short, 
 crisp, abrupt sound, that it was impossible to 
 rjstrain an equally short, crisp laugh. 
 
 " What made you choose so grimy a trade?" 
 
 " I like it," he replied. " It is warm in 
 winter. One of my sisters works in the fields : 
 that would not suit me. The other is a servant." 
 
 " Do you earn wages ?" 
 
 " Not yet, Herr. Next year I shall begin." 
 
 " How do you manage about clothes?" 
 
 '■ I sometimes have them given to me. Some-
 
 A Noisy Watchman. 71 
 
 times a little money, too. My sisters help me 
 as far as they can; they can't do much." 
 
 " Do you like apples?" I asked, after we had 
 walked a little way in silence. 
 
 " Oh ja!" And this time the gleam of 
 intelligence was unmistakahle. 
 
 I had taken one from the tea-table as a curio- 
 sity, the biggest and ruddiest of its kind ever 
 seen. Here was a good opportunity of dis- 
 posing of it. The boy turned it critically 
 round with both hands, smelt it, and finally 
 crammed it into his pocket with a smile of 
 satisfaction. 
 
 " I do like apples," said he, " and this is a 
 beauty." 
 
 " Why don't you eat it?" 
 
 He shook his head. " By and by. Not 
 now. "We are coming to the waterfall." 
 
 We had reached the foot of the mountain, 
 and could hear the water dashing over the 
 stony rocks. A short, steep ascent, and we 
 came to it. Dusk was growing apace, and 
 much of the beauty of the scene was fast dis- 
 appearing with daylight. But, on the other 
 hand, there lay that mysterious atmosphere of
 
 72 A Month at Gastrin. 
 
 holiness and repose over nature that always 
 accompanies the twilight. We clambered up 
 to a small wooden bridge thrown across the 
 chasm, whence could be obtained the best view 
 of the dashing fall, both above and below. 
 The spray came over in a shower; but who cared, 
 when so spell-bound ? It was a sight not to be 
 lost, though the volume of water was less great 
 than rumour had led one to anticipate. Its 
 situation was completely romantic. The soli- 
 tude at this darkening hour seemed excessive, 
 striking the senses with awe. No sound save 
 the roaring of the waters, no sign of human 
 habitation but the mill below ; of which the 
 stream in its course worked the wheel. 
 
 Not until darkness had quite crept over all 
 did we turn back. As we descended the path 
 towards a picturesque hut, built of rough logs 
 of wood, the mill door opened, and a woman 
 with a lighted candle issued forth. We all 
 reached the hut together, and then observed 
 that it contained photographs, stones, bits of 
 wood, and other curiosities for sale. Even 
 here, at this hour of the night, when one might 
 have thought to escape under cover of the
 
 A Noisy Watchman. j$ 
 
 darkness, the inevitable bargain had to be 
 made. So after due examination of the relics, 
 we were set free of the toils with a view of the 
 waterfall and a fossil stone. The candle was 
 extinguished, and the solitary but civil and 
 pleasant woman walked back to her mill. As 
 the door closed behind her with a click, I won- 
 dered whether she had any one to keep her 
 company in that dull desert-like habitation. 
 
 It was getting late when we reached the inn. 
 Over and above rewarding the lad for his 
 trouble, we gave him a brand-new piece of 
 silver money, with strict injunctions never to 
 change it, but to keep it in memory of the 
 evening. He faithfully promised, though his 
 anxious inquiry as to its value was not to be 
 received without suspicion. One would almost 
 dread now to inquire how long it remained 
 unbroken. Finally we parted : he probably 
 to cultivate closer relations with his apple ; 
 we to our rooms and the luxury of uncon- 
 sciousness. 
 
 But if for a moment I had indulged in the 
 vain hope of a good night's rest, I was des- 
 tined to be terribly undeceived. Whether the
 
 74 A Month at Gastrin. 
 
 Gollingers are inclined to deafness; or whether 
 their hard, daily work blesses them at night 
 with sleep so sound that nothing will awaken 
 them ; cannot be told. Never, certes, was 
 sleepless night passed in a more complete wil- 
 derness of noise. 
 
 To begin with, once an hour a watchman 
 patrolled the village, singing a verse of a 
 hymn in one of the most unearthly voices ever 
 heard. This seemed to irritate a company of 
 dogs to so great an extent that they kept up 
 an incessant barking and howling : and no one 
 could wonder at their vigorous protest. One 
 noise after another kept on in rapid succession 
 until two o'clock. Then the diligence from 
 Gastein came rattling over the stones of the 
 street with a noise like thunder. The coach- 
 man cracked his whip as only the Tyrolese 
 know how to do it, and the horrible machine 
 with its two pair of cattle, dashed up to a 
 standstill at the very door of the inn. A loud 
 bell pealed through the empty spaces of the 
 straggling building, and in a short time, which 
 yet seemed an age, doors were unbarred and 
 swung back, and there followed a clatter as of
 
 A Noisy Watchman. 75 
 
 the changing of horses. The conductor and a 
 passenger jumped out of the interior ; and in 
 about twenty minutes the whole concern dashed 
 off again towards Gastein. The coachman 
 had evidently treated his whip to beer as well 
 as himself, for the cracks echoed among the 
 hills like a volley of rifles ; the horses shook 
 their heads and switched their tails : and like 
 a faint roar of contending elements the sounds 
 died away in the distance. 
 
 Soon after, as if to mock the hope of sleep 
 that had begun to settle on heavy eyelids, the 
 watchman reappeared upon the scene with his 
 perpetual hymn tune and hideous tones. Then, 
 ere long, darkness seemed to lift itself, and 
 creep away from the room ; gradually one 
 object after another grew visible ; the stars 
 paled and flickered and went out ; the sky 
 opened ; and daybreak was proclaimed with 
 an insane chorus of cock-crowing. The dogs, 
 now hoarse and weary, composed themselves 
 to sleep ; the watchman went in ; but it was 
 time for the world to turn out. The baker's 
 house opposite was the first to uprouse. The 
 shutters swung back, and a rush of vapour and
 
 76 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 a wholesome smell of fresh-made bread came 
 wafted upon the air. At five o'clock the 
 church hell rang out a loud peal, and the vil- 
 lage had entered upon another day. 
 
 There was no time to be lost in idleness, 
 although I was far less refreshed than when I 
 had gone to bed the previous night. Breakfast 
 was soon over ; a basin of strong hot coffee 
 brought new life with it ; the bill was settled 
 with many an inward protest : and at half- 
 past six we were once more on the road to 
 Gastein.
 
 T 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 A FIRST GLIMPSE OF GASTEIF. 
 
 HE morning at first was cold enough for 
 any amount of rugs and shawls and 
 great coats : but a few hours later, when the 
 sun had climbed higher into the sky, it grew 
 as intensely, insufferably hot. Now, however, 
 the mountains kept the sun away, and a pass 
 was soon entered, up which the wind rushed 
 with a shiver in its wake. Almost imme- 
 diately after leaving Golling, a steep ascent of 
 five miles was commenced through the wild and 
 magnificent Pass Lueg, necessitating an extra 
 horse to the summit of the hill. The moun- 
 tains closed in on both sides, a narrow valley 
 between, through which rushed the Salza ; 
 closed in so nearly in many parts as scarcely 
 to leave room for road and river. Sometimes 
 they appeared as if about to close altogether 
 and bar further progress ; when the turn of 
 an unsuspected angle would open up a fresh
 
 78 A Month at Gastrin. 
 
 scene of beauty and grandeur, with a sudden- 
 ness, a mere twinkling of the eye, that seemed 
 to border on the supernatural. The mountains 
 were richly wooded with sombre, unbending 
 pines, and occasionally far up the height, a 
 small white fortress peeped out mysteriously 
 amidst the dark foliage, perched on some jut- 
 ting rock, to all appearance inaccessible. 
 
 After a long drive of this description, in 
 which grandeur was literally heaped upon 
 grandeur, we reached the village of Werfen, 
 and halted an hour for the sake of the beasts, 
 that in this instance were indeed of burden. 
 The valley had expanded, and the mountains 
 now looked a gigantic, overpowering mass, dis- 
 playing themselves in wildest form and greatest 
 height ; surrounding us on every side. In 
 comparison, the houses looked a small, white 
 cluster of sheds, that might easily be crushed 
 and hidden for ever by a mere rolling fragment 
 of rock. 
 
 It was yet early, and the whole village was 
 at church, where service was being held. Night 
 and morning, summer and winter, as many as 
 are able assemble for a short prayer. The
 
 ifefil ./ ..v . ,^*-* 
 
 m -13 
 
 
 o 
 
 p 
 
 00 
 
 Ph
 
 A First Glimpse of Gastein. 8 1 
 
 organ was playing as we entered the church- 
 yard, but its swell soon died away on the air, 
 and the priest took up his part. In a few 
 minutes the people nocked out and dispersed, 
 each his own way to his own work. 
 
 High up on the left hand, on the summit of 
 a rock separating the mountains, seeming by 
 comparison a dwarf between giants, stood the 
 castle, where, years ago, the Protestants were 
 persecuted. At its foot the river rushes past, 
 where the poor bodies were thrown after tor- 
 ture and death ; pitched from the rock down 
 the steep, perpendicular precipice. The rock 
 is wooded with pine trees, through which the 
 wind on a calm night goes sighing with a 
 weird, sobbing sound, as if the unhappy spirits 
 were still hovering amongst them, unable to rest 
 in peace until their martyrdom has been avenged. 
 
 Some of the mountains are wooded, and 
 abound in wild strawberries : others are 
 barren, rugged, and rock-like, their tops 
 covered with a white dazzling snow that 
 makes them look larger than they really are, 
 and in winter must give them a cold, inhos- 
 pitable aspect. But at this time of the year, 
 
 G
 
 82 A Month at Gastrin. 
 
 when people were almost prostrate with the 
 heat, it was refreshing to turn one's eyes up- 
 wards. Yet after all, like the fox and the 
 grapes, you ceased to envy the mountain tops ; 
 seeking consolation in the thought that pro- 
 bably the cold up there was not less trying to 
 the nerves than the heat below. 
 
 Altogether, I liked the place, and the people 
 of t':3 inn, and determined to stay here the 
 night on the return journey, in preference to 
 Golling. But, as has been already remarked, 
 the wish was frustrated. For all that, we shall 
 •neet with it again. 
 
 Man and beast rested and. refreshed, the 
 cavalcade once more set off on its travels. 
 The sun was now well up in the sky, and rugs 
 and coats had to be put out of sight. The 
 amount of dust was an unfathomable mystery. 
 It seemed as if the sandy desert had trans- 
 ferred its quarters bodily ; every now arid 
 then a gust of wind would carry up a cloud 
 that shut out everything, and left you in chaos. 
 Long before Gastein was thought of, the turn- 
 out was so disguised as to be past recognition 
 even by its best friends.
 
 A First Glimpse of G a stein. 83 
 
 Quitting Werfen, the valley continued to 
 widen a little, and the road separated : one 
 leading into Styria and Carinthia, the other, 
 in due time, to the village of Bischofshoven. 
 Here the Tannengebirge were left behind, and 
 we passed into new, though not less wild and 
 remarkable scenery. The continuous and 
 somewhat monotonous chain of mountain was 
 broken. The Salza was again crossed ; and, 
 following the right bank of the river, a steep, 
 rugged ascent led to St. Johann. 
 
 This village resembles none other on the 
 road. It is somewhat larger, and of more 
 pretension ; a fact due no doubt to its having 
 been burnt some years ago and rebuilt of 
 stone. A few of the old houses remain, me- 
 morials of the things which have been, con- 
 trasting strangely with those that are. It gave 
 one the impression of entering a little more on 
 civilization, though but a very little. It is yet 
 a village, pur et simple, though its people were 
 not quite so pleasant and obliging, as those 
 of the other villages we passed through. 
 
 Here a halt was made for lunch. It was 
 about two o'clock, and whether we required
 
 84 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 refreshment or not, the coachman was quite 
 certain that, bon gre, mal gre, he could no 
 longer dispense with it. There are limits of 
 endurance. A pretty girl came forward into 
 the speise-saal, her beauty set off by the pic- 
 turesque costume of the village. Eound her 
 neck was thrown a substantial chain of gold 
 filagree work studded with turquoise and other 
 stones, genuine, if not of the rarest descrip- 
 tion. Her dress was particularly neat, and 
 the glossy coils and plaits of her hair would 
 have won admiration from the most fastidious 
 votary of the beau-monde. 
 
 (N.B. — The best thing here was the honey, 
 which is more or less good and prevalent 
 throughout the Tyrol. But for honey, it may 
 be remarked par parenthese ; genuine, not-to- 
 be-rivalled honey ; such honey as all lovers of 
 the luxury have never dreamt of until tasted ; 
 it is necessary to visit Switzerland.) 
 
 Beyond this the road swept round, and 
 passed through the valley by the river side. 
 The mountains here seemed to have taken 
 form according to their own fancy, and some 
 of them looked green and fertile. Wild flowers,
 
 A First Glimpse of Gas tern. 85 
 
 beautiful and abundant, grew by the road side, 
 interspersed with strawberry roots laden with 
 unripe fruit. Here and there, a little way up 
 the slopes, were clusters of the Alpine rose, 
 not yet in full bloom. The rapid river bounded 
 over its hard, shallow bed with an unceasing 
 sound, the music of the mountains ; whilst at 
 intervals a dull thud smote upon the ear, as 
 a log of wood, floating down to its destination, 
 came into contact with a huge stone jutting 
 its head above the water. 
 
 Thus journeying, the small village of Schwar- 
 zach was reached. Like many other of the 
 best things that keep themselves retired 
 and unknown, this village, perhaps of all, 
 deserves the most mention, honour, and glory. 
 It was here that in 1729 the leaders of the 
 Protestant peasants met and bound themselves 
 by a solemn oath that, come life or death, vic- 
 tory or persecution, they would never renounce 
 their faith. In the end, some endured mar- 
 tyrdom ; others, an immense body, had to fly 
 for refuge, exiles, into foreign lands. 
 
 The Salza was again crossed, and Lend in 
 due time reached ; immediately after which
 
 86 A Month at Gastrin. 
 
 you enter the pass leading into the valley of 
 Gastein. The horses again rested, for the 
 most difficult part of the journey was about to 
 commence. It is rumoured that ere very long 
 a railway may be constructed from Salzburg 
 to Lend, thus materially shortening the dis- 
 tance to Gastein. Beyond this point it may 
 safely be asserted that all the power and in- 
 genuity of man will be unable to extend it. 
 
 We now turned southward, and with the 
 help of four horses commenced ascending the 
 Pass Klamm, of the terrific nature of which it 
 would be impossible to give an idea. The 
 mountains on either side are steep and pre- 
 cipitous, in parts perpendicular, and at times 
 almost closing in. Ascending higher and 
 higher, the channel grows deeper and deeper 
 still, until at last you look far down into the 
 yawning depths with an involuntary shudder. 
 The rugged road, cut out of the side of the 
 precipice, is in places so narrow that if two 
 carriages happen to meet, one or the other has 
 to draw into a hollow of the rock, blasted out 
 for the purpose. Occasionally you pass under 
 a deep overhanging piece of rock that seems
 
 A First Glimpse of Gastein. 87 
 
 threatening to fall and crush the luckless 
 wayfarer. The sense of the dangerous and 
 terrible is in many places heightened by cracks 
 and fissures, so that portions of stone, big 
 as houses, seem suspended as it were by a 
 mere thread on the point of snapping. That 
 many enormous pieces have fallen from time 
 to time is testified by the fragments that lie 
 at the bottom of the precipice, and by the 
 eternal ruts that mark their path to their final 
 resting place. So grand and fearful was it, 
 that it is no figure of speech to say the breath 
 was taken away ; not from fear — in moments 
 of danger or excitement fear finds no place — 
 but from the nature of the scene. At ont 
 point was an ancient gateway and castle, the 
 Klammstein, commanding the pass, built as 
 far back as the eleventh century, and still in 
 perfect preservation. 
 
 The ascent achieved, the valley of Gastein 
 opened to view. 
 
 There are three villages of Gastein at some 
 distance from each other. Dorf-Gastein, Hof- 
 Gastein, and lastly Wildbad-Gastein, sometimes 
 shortened to Bad-Gastcin ; more commonly
 
 88 A Mo7ith at Gastrin. 
 
 called simply Gastein ; the Gastein par ex- 
 cellence. Beyond this there is still Bockstein, 
 a corruption of Bock-Gastein ; a small village 
 now utterly insignificant. Here comes what 
 may fairly be called the end of the world, for 
 there is no passage beyond it for vehicles of 
 any kind. 
 
 First, Dorf-Gastein : whence at the far end 
 of the valley the snow mountains towered into 
 sight. But the valley here is so wide; looking 
 all the wider in contrast with the narrow pass 
 just scaled ; that you forget the fact of its 
 being a valley. On either hand the mountains 
 are green and fertile, sloping away, and re- 
 sembling a little those gardens on the banks 
 of the Bhine. 
 
 Beyond Hof-Gastein began the final ascent 
 leading to Gastein, which from a distance 
 looked a small cluster of houses embedded in 
 the mountains : great mountains that closed 
 in at the head of the valley in every direc- 
 tion but that from which we were travelling. 
 Hope and expectation alike went down as I 
 wondered whence came the wonderful, much- 
 vaunted, fresh, life-giving breezes.
 
 A First Glimpse of Gastein. 89 
 
 " That is not Gastein," I asserted to the 
 coachman, on the verge of despair; as if 
 putting the question in the form of a denial 
 would influence the answer. 
 
 " Ya ! ya ! Gastein," responded he, quite as 
 emphatically, and with a sigh of relief. 
 
 " But I thought Gastein was at the top of a 
 high mountain ? ' ' 
 
 " I don't think we have had much down-hill 
 work," retorted the man, comically. 
 
 " True. But there are mountains still 
 higher." 
 
 " And high enough they are," he answered 
 in the same tone. " I shouldn't care to drive 
 to the top of one of them. Neither would 
 you, mein Herr." 
 
 " All they who pass these portals leave hope 
 behind." In some such frame of mind, and 
 in silence, the ascent was accomplished right 
 into Gastein itself. Past a church in course 
 of erection ; past a house or two, perched up 
 on the right ; past a long, low room that 
 seemed built of nothing but glass; and into 
 the yard of Straubinger's Hotel, recommended 
 as the best Gastein afforded.
 
 90 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 Without regret or sorrow I found myself at 
 length in a place of rest ; peace and quiet in 
 prospective. We had not written to secure 
 rooms, and thanks to the early time of year 
 were fortunate enough to find good ones un- 
 occupied. The head waiter led the way down 
 a narrow passage into a good-sized chamber 
 opening into a smaller one, walls and ceiling 
 panelled with polished maple-wood, cool and 
 delightful in appearance ; the only rooms in 
 the hotel, two others excepted, so fitted up. 
 
 Eepose at length. I sat down for a few 
 doubting moments, and looked about. Sen- 
 sation number one was a shock. Not an electric 
 shock, or the shock of having seen a ghost; 
 but what just then was far worse than either. 
 It threw a damper upon my hopes of Gastein, 
 health, air, and all blessings to follow in their 
 train. Expectations had been terribly exalted. 
 I had thought to find Gastein, as already re- 
 marked, on the summit of a high mountain, 
 embracing all the pure air of heaven : and in 
 place, behold a village completely embedded in 
 the earth ! Impossible to conceive a spot 
 more so. In England it had been said that
 
 A First Glimpse of Gastrin. 9 1 
 
 we should find it cold ; so cold that the idea 
 of going so early in the year was in itself 
 absurd. Such was the place in prospective ; 
 such the climate. In reality it was hot with 
 an intense and glowing heat seldom felt else- 
 where. In vain to throw wide the windows ; 
 not a breath of air rustled the leaves ; not a 
 sound came from the pines on the far-off moun- 
 tain tops. Other sounds there were, but too 
 loud and near to be agreeable : proceeding 
 from an enormous waterfall that washed the 
 very side of the inn, and with a voice of mighty 
 thunder went dashing down a steep precipice 
 far into the valley. Beautiful it was indeed ; 
 but in sound awful. 
 
 Unless the reader has dwelt some consider- 
 able time beneath the shadow of a waterfall : so 
 near that by stretching out a hand he may 
 catch the spray ; and, that, a fall not such as 
 may occasionally be seen on the stage or met 
 with in artificial pleasure-grounds, but one of 
 the largest masses of downpouring water in 
 Europe : unless he has experienced the sensa- 
 tion of a never-ending sound, from which 
 there can be no escape day and night; seeming
 
 92 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 to bid defiance by its ceaseless roar : unless 
 he has done all this, it would not be possible 
 for him to sympathise with me in those first 
 hours. Until then I, too, had never dwelt 
 under the shadow of a torrent, great or small : 
 I had never lived in the hearing of any con- 
 tinuous sound save of the restless ocean, which 
 is altogether a thing apart. The one will soothe 
 you to slumber ; the other may lash you into — 
 a fine frenzy, certainly — perhaps that of mad- 
 ness. 
 
 My reflections came speedily to the following 
 conclusion, divided — like an old-fashioned par- 
 son's sermon— into three heads and an appli- 
 cation : Unmanly to sit down and shed tears ; 
 wicked to swear ; impossible to go straight 
 back at once, blow up friends and doctors, and 
 
 send them all to the to Hanover. There 
 
 remained only to endure. 
 
 Yet was it not a thought worthy of de- 
 spondency to have come so far for so little 
 purpose ? Snow ? yes, certainly, on the tops 
 of the mountains ; in the hollow, the heat of 
 the tropics twice told. 
 
 The next day, Sunday, I sallied forth to re-
 
 A First Glimpse of G astern. 93 
 
 connoitre what I now looked upon in the light 
 of nothing less than a fiend disguised as a friend. 
 Down the vale, went I, in search of air, where 
 none was. Alone, in a kind of rabid despair, 
 I gave vent to pent-up feelings, and like a 
 maniac shouted for air. A dozen echoes from 
 the surrounding mountains seemed to bring back 
 the mocking answer, Where ? At least to an 
 overwrought imagination it sounded very much 
 like it. Up higher, now, into the mountains, 
 and so nearer the sun, but the exertion gained 
 no other reward. On to the Bridge of Terror, 
 where you might look up and down at the 
 overpowering rush of water. A glorious sight ; 
 to be admitted with all one's powers ; but in 
 that existing frame of mind yielding neither 
 pleasure nor consolation. Then back to the 
 hotel in time for the one o'clock table-d'hote ; 
 and, all things considered, with some appetite 
 for the banquet. 
 
 Monday rose red-hot, and bright as the pre- 
 ceding day. The torrent, with its unceasing 
 roar, was still there. Instead of feeling better 
 for the rest from travel, I seemed to have gone 
 back many degrees since Saturday ; and was
 
 94 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 beginning to debate most seriously upon the 
 expediency of packing up and running away 
 somewhere, when a thought flashed like an 
 inspiration upon the dulled senses — that it 
 might be as well first to call upon a doctor, 
 and ask him in what lay the wonderful virtue 
 of the place.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE WATEKS OF GASTEIN. 
 
 rjlHE Gastein season is supposed to be in the 
 full tide of its prosperity in the months 
 of July and August. Early in June people 
 begin to arrive, each day adding to the number; 
 but not for a month later do they overflow. 
 In May, comparatively speaking, the place is 
 deserted. And yet for pleasantness, for beauty 
 of nature, for health, the months of May and 
 September are infinitely to be chosen before 
 those that intervene. 
 
 Gastein, little known to the English, is 
 frequented principally by Prussians, Prussians, 
 and Hungarians ; less generally by the Aus- 
 trians, though actually in the dominions of 
 his Catholic Majesty. The polished, pleasure- 
 seeking Austrians possess other places of resort, 
 gayer, brisker, and less difficult of access. 
 Pre-eminent amongst these stands Ischl, in 
 the Salzkammergut, one of the most delightful
 
 96 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 and romantic spots on the face of the whole 
 earth. 
 
 It was now the month of May, when, as has 
 just been said, Gastein is, comparatively 
 speaking, deserted. Thus, when about ten 
 o'clock I strolled out, in obedience to my in- 
 spiration, I found, in my walk from Strau- 
 binger's to the doctor's consulting-room, 
 little to distract the attention beyond a terror- 
 stricken cat flying on the wings of fear 
 from some unseen danger ; and the keepers of 
 the stalls in front of the hotel, who, basking 
 in the sunshine, were lazily awaiting the hour 
 for their midday meal. Turning to the left, I 
 soon came upon a small stone building con- 
 sisting of two rooms. On the door, in large black 
 letters, was written Dampfbad ; on the lintel the 
 name of a doctor, and Nachtglocke. The door 
 stood invitingly open ; an omen to the super- 
 stitiously inclined. I rang boldly, and as the 
 peal echoed through the small stone building, 
 I felt that the leap in the dark, the first step, 
 had been taken. Now for good news, or evil. 
 
 To the presence of the doctor — a little man, 
 full of life, energy, and intelligence — was an
 
 «S£> 
 
 
 :t<*® '■:- 
 
 Sh^^^S. 
 
 • < ^mki? •*">*?;a, - X «S ; *"^- 
 
 tik W A; 
 
 ,r $$\iS r?*wS+'^ 
 
 Gastein: View of Steaubtngrr's and Waterfall.
 
 The Waters of Gastein. 99 
 
 interval of a few moments. With many- 
 apologies for the unfinished state of his con- 
 Bulting-room — he had but just returned from 
 his winter practice at Nice — he handed his 
 visitor a chair, and sat himself down opposite. 
 A German, he spoke also English and French; 
 and though he often made ludicrous mistakes, 
 none laughed more heartily than he, when they 
 were made clear to him. We continued for 
 the most part to hold intercourse in one or 
 other of the two languages, as long as I re- 
 mained in Gastein. 
 
 " My dear sir, you come for the baths." 
 
 I stared. Not by any means had I come 
 with such intentions ; but it was vain to 
 endeavour to explain this to the doctor. To 
 visit Gastein and not take the baths was a wild 
 idea his brain refused to admit or comprehend. 
 
 " When did you arrive ?" 
 
 "On Saturday." 
 
 " Saturday. To-day is Monday. And you 
 have not taken a bath. My dear sir, allow me 
 to congratulate you in the highest manner 
 upon your wisdom and patience. Most men 
 are in such a very great hurry that they jump in-
 
 ioo A Month at Gastein. 
 
 to the bath immediately they arrive." Full stop, 
 and a change of tone. " You should not do this," 
 he continued emphatically. " You should wait 
 one day to rest ; one day to become accustomed 
 to the air; and the third day take the bath." 
 
 "But," I cried, "I am disappointed in the 
 air. It had been reported as wonderful; pure 
 and bracing. To all this it appears the exact 
 opposite; hot and unrefreshing." 
 
 " This air of to-day is not the true Gastein 
 climate," returned the doctor. " Never have 
 I known it so hot as this. The reason is, that 
 for long we have had no rain. The amount 
 of evaporation here is so great that without 
 rain we cannot live. The air becomes dry ; 
 the ground parched ; nature languishes. When 
 the rain comes then you will see and feel and 
 breathe the true, health-giving air of Gastein." 
 
 He spoke in tones of such exaltation, such 
 convincing firmness ; raising his voice a little 
 with each sentence; that it was impossible not 
 to feel somewhat reassured. 
 
 " If that be the case," I said, fervently, "I 
 hope it may come soon." 
 
 " Patience. It is coming. I feel it. In a
 
 The Waters of Gastein. 101 
 
 few days all will be changed. Meanwhile, you 
 take a bath to-morrow." 
 
 " I did not come for the baths," I cried, 
 with a last desperate effort to make him under- 
 stand. " I was ordered to take the air. Con- 
 cerning baths never a word was spoken." 
 
 " Not take the baths ! " ejaculated the 
 doctor, with raised hands, a look of positive 
 terror creeping into his face. " Come to Gas- 
 tein and not take the baths ! Then, why come 
 at all ? You can find air in other parts of the 
 world ; better air than this ; but the baths of 
 Gastein are to be found in Gastein alone. 
 Nowhere else are there such waters. If you 
 are overworked and require rest, they will cure 
 you. The air is all very well as far as it goes; 
 but it is the baths you must look to." 
 
 Making due deductions for prejudice or par- 
 tiality, there yet seemed sense and logic in 
 these words. Certainly it was impossible to 
 discover at present any great virtue in the 
 air. Therefore, plunging boldly into the un- 
 known future, I resolved on the spot to give 
 the baths a chance of working the good pro- 
 phesied.
 
 102 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 " I suppose they will not do harm?" I 
 cautiously remarked. 
 
 The doctor shook his head. " I am certain 
 of that, by merely looking at you. Leave 
 yourself without fear in my hands." 
 
 He was kind and attentive, willing and 
 wishing to be of use in all manner of ways, 
 apart from his professional capacity. Through 
 the whole of a four weeks' sojourn he was 
 always the same. Happiest, it seemed, when 
 most actively employed in the welfare of 
 others. 
 
 Before leaving the Dampfbad, I spoke of the 
 unpleasantness of the waterfall. 
 
 " You are at Straubinger's," said the doctor. 
 "What is the number of your room?" 
 
 " Seven." 
 
 " So ! On the ground floor — the panelled 
 chambers. I know them well. Count Bis- 
 marck occupied them two seasons running. I 
 was his medical adviser." 
 
 This mark of distinction was by no means 
 sufficient to atone for the discomforts of No. 7, 
 with which sentiment the doctor seemed to 
 acquiesce.
 
 The Waters of Gastein. 103 
 
 " The noise of the waterfall is certainly dis- 
 agreeable," he added; "especially to those 
 unaccustomed to it. Some cannot endure it; 
 they have no rest hy day, no sleep by night. 
 These are my highly nervous and excitable 
 patients. Others, on the contrary, it soothes; 
 their slumbers in consequence are deep and 
 long. One patient of mine, a general in the 
 Prussian army, who had overworked his brain 
 with military tactics, fancied he heard a tune 
 in the waterfall. Whatever melody entered 
 his head on first awaking, was taken up by the 
 torrent and carried on throughout the day. It 
 would drive him mad, he said : and I believe 
 it would, had he remained. He was obliged to 
 take rooms in Hof-Gastein." 
 
 " Did he recover in the end ?" 
 
 " I don't know. He went away at the ap- 
 pointed time, and I never heard of him again." 
 
 " With me it is not so bad as that," I said. 
 " But it gives me a feeling of unrest : as if I 
 should like to get away from it and could not." 
 
 " In short," returned the doctor, "it is a 
 perpetual nightmare to you : and no wonder. 
 You want rest and quiet, and that you must
 
 104 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 have. You must change your hotel. This 
 afternoon I will accompany you to the Hirsch : 
 they may have rooms to suit you, and there the 
 fall is almost inaudible. I have also rooms in 
 my villa ; you can see it from here. Accommo- 
 dation is so scarce in the village that during 
 the season every unoccupied room in every 
 house is, and ought to be, given up to visitors." 
 
 He crossed to the window and pointed to a 
 pretty house on the mountain side. It was 
 more elevated than any other house in Gas- 
 tein, in situation charming. 
 
 " I will show you over it this afternoon," 
 said the doctor. "But," he modestly added, 
 "I do not think you would be sufficiently 
 comfortable there. Look here," he continued, 
 drawing a thermometer from a round wooden 
 case ; " this I will send to your room, and to- 
 morrow morning you must put it into your 
 hand on first awakening. It will give me the 
 temperature of your body, and thus enable me 
 to regulate the heat of your bath. To-morrow at 
 ten o'clock I will come to you, and be present 
 when you enter the bath : on no account must 
 you go into it alone."
 
 The Waters of G astern. 1 05 
 
 After a few more remarks we separated ; the 
 doctor reiterating his promise to call in the 
 afternoon, 
 
 It was far too hot to walk about ; therefore 
 I returned to the hotel, and threw myself on 
 the sofa, weary and desponding, yet in more 
 hopeful spirits than I had left it in the morning. 
 In a very short time I fell asleep in spite of 
 the rushing water, and dreamed that I was on 
 board a steamer starting from the tropics to 
 the North Pole in search of the North Wind. 
 From this delightful sensation, I was speedily 
 awakened by the ringing of the table-d'hote 
 bell : a summons by no means to be dis- 
 regarded. 
 
 There was a very small attendance ; twenty 
 in all, perhaps. The dinner, to speak tem- 
 perately, was bad, and I flattered myself that 
 as the number of guests increased, so in pro- 
 portion it would improve. A hope destined to 
 prove a delusion. 
 
 First, of course, came soup, thin and poor, 
 which reminded me forcibly of the schoolboy's 
 recipe — a quart of water boiled down to a pint 
 and served up : then boiled beef, having the
 
 106 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 appearance of bouilli, without any of the merit 
 of that old-fashioned dish. Next came saus- 
 ages smothered in a species of sauer-kraut (I 
 live its agonies over again in writing), of which 
 the terrible smell had penetrated to us long 
 before the entrance of the unsavoury mess. In 
 an evil moment, influenced by the pangs of 
 hunger, I took half a sausage upon my plate, 
 and carefully divesting it of every trace of the 
 offending vegetable, I, with trembling heart, 
 cut off a small slice. The consequences were 
 not fatal, or even very serious : I did not quite 
 expire : I did not follow the example of the 
 robust German lady, vis-a-vis, who was not 
 sufficiently well bred to make even an attempt 
 at swallowing the dainty morsel she had taken ; 
 but I never repeated the experiment. 
 
 Next came some veal, hard, dry, tough, and 
 tasteless — I might multiply adjectives ad infi- 
 nitum — accompanied by salad. This was fol- 
 lowed by a large baked pudding that had 
 swelled out over the dish to proportions allur- 
 ing to an empty stomach ; but when the spoon 
 was applied, it was found to possess no inside, 
 and literally collapsed.
 
 The Waters of, Gastrin. 107 
 
 This was all. And we were kept so long 
 waiting between each course — an expression 
 too dignified to be applicable — that about an 
 hour and a half had been devoted to the cere- 
 mony. It was not the quantity that was so 
 much to be objected to — though that was meagre 
 enough — as the quality, and the bad cooking ; 
 and, as the clays went on, the want of variety. 
 Many a time I rose from table as hungry as I 
 had sat down. 
 
 After dinner, at the appointed hour, in the 
 midst of the broiling heat, the doctor arrived, 
 carrying a yellow alpaca umbrella and a thin 
 overcoat, without which two appendages he was 
 never to be seen : the one as a protection from 
 the sun, the other in case of rain. 
 
 " You may laugh," he cried, as I looked at 
 the coat and wondered why he had brought it 
 out on so hot a day. " You have an old saying 
 ' "Who laughs last laughs best.' I should never 
 have attained to this age without ailments, 
 had I not been careful of my body. It is an 
 excellent servant, but a poor master. I never 
 by any chance go without my coat and um- 
 brella."
 
 io8 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 It was quite true : he never did. 
 
 "I suppose you have come to fulfil your 
 promise," I remarked. "To help me to find 
 out a lodging where I shall not be altogether 
 sent mad by this uproarious waterfall ?" 
 
 " Certainly," he replied. " Unless you are 
 becoming familiar enough with the noise not 
 to heed it." 
 
 " Not in a hundred years," I returned, 
 " though it would kill me in a hundredth part 
 of that time. Like the general, I shall soon 
 hear tunes in the air." 
 
 " Allons, then ! " he cried, laughing, and 
 jumping up. " To the Hirsch ! " 
 
 " I want you to give me some account of 
 Gastein," I said, as we left the hotel. "You 
 must know its history from beginning to end 
 — I know neither end nor beginning," 
 
 " The very thing I was proposing to my- 
 self," replied the doctor. " Gastein deserves 
 to be better known than it is. I have written 
 a book about it in my own tongue, and small 
 brochures have been translated into French 
 and English ; but few of them, I imagine, have 
 penetrated into your country."
 
 The Waters of Gastrin. T09 
 
 Here the doctor cleared his throat ominously, 
 furled and unfurled again his yellow umbrella, 
 and resumed the thread of his discourse. 
 
 " Gastein," he said, " as I need not remind 
 you, is on the borders of Carinthia, 3,135 
 feet above the level of the Mediterranean. 
 For the last sixteen years I have taken me- 
 teorological observations upon the country, 
 and from the frequent rains and occasional 
 snows that fall upon the mountains in mid- 
 season, I believe that as a summer resort it 
 ia the coolest place in Europe. From the 
 nature of the soil it is clear that the two 
 valleys of Bockstein and Hof-Gastein were 
 vast lakes, drained by great convulsions of 
 the earth. Probably the same convulsions, 
 which rent the rocks and admitted a passage 
 for these waterfalls, cast up at the same time 
 these hot, health-giving springs." 
 
 " That must have taken place centuries 
 ago ? " 
 
 " Yes. The history of the Valley of Gas- 
 tein is properly divided into five periods. The 
 first commences with the discovery of the hot 
 springs in the year G80, and terminates with
 
 no A Month at Gastrin. 
 
 the first improvement and elevation of the 
 place in 1436." 
 
 " A gap of nearly 800 years ! " 
 
 " Good things are of slow growth," observed 
 the doctor, sententiously ; "but in the end 
 they are sure. Gastein is even yet in its in- 
 fancy. I prophesy for it a great career in the 
 future." 
 
 " What caused Gastein suddenly to awake 
 out of its long slumber in the year 1436 ?" 
 
 " It happened," replied the doctor, " that 
 three hunters, following a stag, found him 
 bathing his wounds in some hot springs, to 
 which the vapours attracted their attention." 
 
 "But that legend," said I, with a laugh, 
 " is connected with so many of your German 
 baths. A' stag seems generally to have been 
 the cause of discovery." 
 
 " In this instance," returned the doctor, 
 " I think it is a true tale. At any rate we 
 will believe so, and be grateful to the stag. 
 Instinct, you see, is made useful to man as 
 well as beast. But here we are at the Hirsch 
 and I must delay my account until our visit of 
 inspection is over."
 
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 Ex 
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 69
 
 The Waters of Gastci?i. 113 
 
 The people of the Hirsch were very civil and 
 obliging. The rooms were airy and comfort- 
 able, and the sound of the waterfall could 
 scarcely be heard. From the front windows, 
 low down, stretched the long, smooth plain, 
 with here and there small wooden houses 
 dotted about like nests in the grass. The 
 many shades of green caught the eye, and 
 the small stream, winding capriciously through 
 all, looked like a thread of liquid silver in a 
 carpet of mossy velvet. On either side towered 
 the mountains ; the huge Gamskarkogl, from 
 whose heights a hundred glaciers may be seen, 
 rising above his fellows. Far away, cutting 
 the mountain-side, tapered the spire of the 
 church of Hof-Gastein, looking, in comparison, 
 about the size of a toy from a child's Noah's 
 Ark. Had I not made up my mind that the 
 doctor's rooms would suit me better than any 
 others, I should have taken these on the spot. 
 As it was, I said that before deciding I should 
 like him to show me over his own house. 
 
 " With pleasure," he answered," but not to- 
 day. I do not want you to get in the least 
 degree tired. To-morrow afternoon I will take
 
 ii4 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 you up. Let us now, as we retrace our way, 
 continue our account of Gastein. Where were 
 we?" 
 
 " At the first period and the wounded stag." 
 " True. Well, later on, the Eomans seeking 
 for gold and silver, found here, under the first 
 Bishop Eupert, two pious Christian men, whom 
 they carried away to Eome, to be devoured by 
 lions in the amphitheatre. These martyrs are 
 now celebrated as patrons of the Church." 
 " By way of reward?" 
 
 " By way of commemoration," rebuked the 
 doctor; " and as an example for us to follow 
 in the steps of good men." 
 
 " At the risk of being devoured by lions ?" 
 " Those days are gone by. The working of 
 the gold mines was continued under the control 
 of the bishops of Salzburg. Time went on, 
 and when there were as yet but five or six rude 
 cottages in Gastein, the Emperor Frederic, 
 grandfather of Maximilian the First, came 
 here for the baths. The second period begins 
 with the first civilization of Gastein in 1436, 
 and extends to the first scientific examination 
 of the hot springs in 1562, by the celebrated
 
 The Waters of Gastehi. 115 
 
 Theophrastus Paracelsus. The third period 
 dates from 1562 to the first scientific analysis 
 by the new method of chemistry, in 1780, by 
 Barisani. 
 
 " About this time many events took place. 
 Earthquakes, inundations, and fires ; which 
 completely destroyed Hof-Gastein, then the 
 capital, if we may so call it, of the valley. Then 
 followed religious wars, and the expulsion of the 
 Protestant miners — a signal for the decay of 
 mines, and the cause of the development of the 
 thermal station. 
 
 " The fourth period extends from 1780 to 
 1830. The fifth from 1830 to the present 
 time. In this last period, Gastein has made 
 most progress, especially in the few past years. 
 We have established a hospital ; built a stone 
 bridge over the waterfall — no slight achievement 
 for Gastein ; fifteen new houses have lately 
 been erected, together with the long glass gal- 
 lery that in some places would be dignified to 
 the rank of an etablissement : we have esta- 
 blished a post and telegraph office; the principal 
 spring has been discovered, and its properties 
 carefully analysed.
 
 1 1 6 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 " This, my dear sir, is all I can tell you, in 
 words, of Gastein. You will find it more 
 elaborately narrated in my book; and in a 
 somewhat less condensed form in the brochures. 
 But I think the above facts contain the pith of 
 the matter ; sufficient to satisfy your curiosity 
 or search for knowledge." 
 
 " What, then," I inquired, " are the chief 
 maladies for which these waters are useful?" 
 
 " Chiefly for all complaints affecting the 
 nervous system. I need not tell you that this 
 is saying a great deal. One of their chief vir- 
 tues is in restoring those suffering from over- 
 work of the brain. But they are good for 
 overwork of every kind — that of body as well 
 as brain. In cases of weakness, also, arising 
 from wounds or other causes. Cut your finger, 
 and plunge it into ordinary hot water, the blood 
 flows more freely; plunge it into this mineral 
 water, and immediately the flow ceases. This 
 is one undoubted proof of its possessing dis- 
 tinctive and peculiar properties. It is excellent 
 in cases of paralysis and gout ; often restoring 
 the former when all other remedies and experi- 
 ments have failed. I could tell you of many
 
 The Waters of Gastein. 117 
 
 remarkable eases, of long standing, that have 
 come under my immediate notice. It is excel- 
 lent in cases of rheumatism. One reason to 
 be assigned for this is the wonderful amount of 
 electricity contained in the water, thus enabling 
 the power to be administered to the body as in 
 no other form. But," exclaimed the doctor, 
 brandishing his yellow weapon, which at this 
 moment served as a walking-stick, " I must be 
 off. Though Gastein is so empty, I have 
 already a few patients on my list. So good- 
 bye. To-morrow, at ten o'clock, I will come 
 to you." 
 
 With a handshake, without which token of 
 friendliness he never met you, though it were a 
 hundred times a day, the doctor abruptly took 
 leave.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 TAKING A BATH. 
 
 "PRECISELY at ten o'clock the following 
 "** morning he made his appearance, brimful, 
 as usual, of life and energy. We proceeded 
 together to the bath-room, which looked com- 
 fortable, but felt warm. 
 
 " Ah!" he cried. " That bad-meister, who 
 is so fat himself that he needs an unlimited 
 amount of heat to bring him down, thinks 
 every one in like condition with himself. He 
 has a mania for over-heating the rooms. I 
 have warned him of this over and over again, 
 but it is of no use. He is a salamander : 
 when we are melting, he feels himself in his 
 element." 
 
 In a few moments I had divested myself of 
 every vestige of a refined and civilized age. 
 The doctor proceeded then to knock and thump 
 me about, sounded my liver, listened to the 
 beating of my heart, looked to see if my
 
 Taking a Bath. 119 
 
 shoulders were straight, and finally bade rue 
 enter the water. 
 
 " Is every one subjected to these examina- 
 tions?" I asked, as my feet touched the stone 
 bottom. 
 
 "Without exception," was the emphatic reply. 
 " I allow no one to enter the baths without it. 
 How do you find the water ? ' ' 
 
 " It seems comfortable; neither warm nor 
 cold." 
 
 " That is just right. As far as possible you 
 should feel as if you were in nothing at all." 
 
 " I should have thought the hotter the water 
 the more efficacious the bath." 
 
 " Ah!" he cried. " Like many other men 
 who are apt to form opinions. A little does 
 good, a great deal must do more, you argue. 
 It is the reverse. If you took the bath too 
 hot, it would " 
 
 " What?" 
 . " I hardly know what," he laughed. " It 
 might do you much harm, but it would not 
 certainly bring the desired relief. Do you ever 
 take a warm bath in England?" 
 
 " Not being quite uncivilized — yes."
 
 120 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 " Then I invite you to compare your sensa- 
 tions after those baths and these, and to give 
 me a description of them. And now I will 
 leave you. Twenty minutes are nearly up ; 
 the wrinkles are coming to your finger-ends, 
 and when they are well developed you must 
 come out. Then lie down for an hour, a sheet 
 your sole covering. The latter I call an air 
 hath, and it is essential it should be taken. 
 Now farewell. This afternoon I will call for 
 you." 
 
 He left the room, and shortly after I entered 
 the adjoining compartment, and lay down for 
 an hour upon a small sofa bed. A calm, 
 soothing sense of stillness crept over mind and 
 body; a sense of rest and repose unspeakably 
 delicious. Upon going into the open air when 
 the time was up, in place of the lassitude so 
 often felt after a warm bath in England, the 
 sensations were of a precisely opposite charac- 
 ter. The air, if warm, seemed light : the feet 
 scarcely appeared to touch the ground, so buoyant 
 was the body. All nature looked brighter, the 
 trees fresher; even the waterfall for the moment 
 was less unbearable. I felt in condition for an
 
 Taking a Bath. 121 
 
 expedition to the top of the highest moun- 
 tain. 
 
 The dinner hour came and passed with much 
 the same result as on the previous day. No 
 new faces at the table ; no fresh artistic efforts 
 on the part of the cook; the same unsatisfactory 
 dishes ; the same amount of time spent in not 
 eating. Yet every one appeared happy, and 
 blessed with a good appetite. The curious 
 thing about the guests was that for the most 
 part they appeared the very picture of health 
 and strength ; it was scarcely possible to imagine 
 them here for the purposes of renovation. 
 Appetite, bright eyes, lively conversation ; all 
 this abounded. And to a silent observer, 
 opportunity of studying the habits and manners 
 of the people abounded also. 
 
 Determined to take it idly — what other 
 resource was there under the circumstances ? — 
 I lay down after dinner, until the doctor entered 
 and roused me. 
 
 "What?" he cried. "Napping? Sleeping 
 after dinner ?" 
 
 " No, no," I returned. " But what would 
 you ? Repose after that heavy meal is neces-
 
 122 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 sary. The table-d'hote, my dear doctor, like 
 many other things in life, wants a good deal 
 of reforming." 
 
 The doctor shrugged his shoulders. " I hear 
 complaints on all sides," he answered, " but 
 what can I do ? You must put up with it for 
 the sake of health. I am glad you were not 
 sleeping. Nothing is worse after dinner : it 
 relaxes the body and stupifies the mind. But 
 if, at times, you really cannot keep awake, then 
 drop off for a quarter of an hour; not longer. 
 If you cannot wake yourself, desire some one 
 to do it for you." 
 
 " It is by no means one of my habits," I 
 said. " But here, and in this state of the 
 atmosphere, what is to be done?" 
 
 " Go into the wandelbahn and play the 
 piano: or climb up a little way into the moun- 
 tain, and sit down in one of the arbours; or 
 buy a horn and blow it : anything, in short, 
 rather than disobedience to orders. And now 
 I will pilot you to my humble abode. It was 
 the best I could get in Gastein. Some day, 
 perhaps, I may build myself another." 
 
 We went forth and took our way through the
 
 Taking a Bath. 123 
 
 wandelbahn : a room about four hundred feet 
 long, built chiefly of glass, low and narrow. It 
 was used by the visitors generally in wet 
 weather, upon which occasion the band took 
 shelter there, and frantically performed Strauss's 
 waltzes and other popular tunes for an hour at 
 a stretch. Invalids were wheeled about in 
 bath-chairs, and people who were not invalids 
 paraded up and down, backwards and forwards, 
 laughing, gesticulating, talking in tones not 
 particularly subdued, after their manner. The 
 place contained a circulating library, separate 
 reading rooms for ladies and gentlemen, and a 
 refreshment room. It overlooked the wildest 
 part of Gastein on the one side, the road on 
 the other ; therefore, everything that transpired 
 might be seen from its windows. 
 
 Through this we quietly strolled, glad of a 
 moment's shelter from the burning rays of the 
 sun, which appeared but to laugh to scorn the 
 powers of an umbrella. "Wo soon found our- 
 selves again beneath the bare sky, and the 
 doctor's yellow alpaca was immediately hoisted, 
 whilst his inevitable coat, thrown over his arm, 
 trailed gracefully behind him. A few minutes'
 
 124 A Month at Gastcin. 
 
 walk, a steep ascent, and we stood on the 
 doctor's territory. Here he was lord and 
 master : provided his eyes took not too wide a 
 range, monarch of all he surveyed. House, 
 ground, all belonged to him. 
 
 As we neared the villa, a somewhat laughable 
 incident occurred : for to such dignity in this 
 quiet spot was the most trifling event elevated. 
 The doctor was a man at all times ready to do 
 a good turn, and would put himself to trouble 
 in order to be useful. A philanthropist, but at 
 the same time a strict lover of justice, whether 
 in upholding his own rights and privileges or 
 those of others. On this especial afternoon, as 
 we approached the villa, we perceived an army 
 of goats feeding upon his banks and devouring 
 his grass, attended by a sleepy herd. Down 
 went the umbrella ; up it shot again as a 
 menacing weapon. "Ah! ah!" shrieked he, 
 rushing full tilt at the despoilers, something 
 after the manner of Don Quixote charging 
 the windmills : " Ah ! ah ! " he reiterated, 
 brandishing frantically his deadly instrument. 
 " Das ist nichts ! das ist mein grund ! " With 
 so much effect was his power exerted, that the
 
 Taking a Bath. 125 
 
 goats one and all scampered off, as if another 
 horned personage had been at their heels ; and 
 the sleepy goatherd had no resource but to 
 follow with alacrity. Then the doctor turned 
 to me, a laugh taking the place of his avenging 
 expression. 
 
 "lam compelled to be severe with them," 
 he said, " or this would be a daily occurrence. 
 And what would my own poor goats do without 
 their grass ?" 
 
 The doctor's house was very pleasantly 
 situated, and took in all Gastein from its best 
 points of view. Two or three arbours were 
 scattered about the garden, where it was pos- 
 sible to sit out all day long in the fresh air. 
 He pointed out with some pride various small 
 scientific matters, which his own ingenuity had 
 constructed. I soon made up my mind that 
 only here would I stay as long as we remained 
 in Gastein. Everything was so home-like, so 
 clean to a fault, so comfortable and cheer- 
 ful, that all I had yet seen passed out of 
 mind. 
 
 From the windows the look-out was wild and 
 grand. In the hollow was Gastein ; we looked
 
 126 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 down upon Straubinger's as from a great 
 height ; here it was possible to enjoy a view of 
 the waterfall. Not so far off that no sound 
 could penetrate, we were just at that distance 
 where it became soothing rather than otherwise, 
 and at night would induce sleep. On all sides 
 the mountains reared their heads, green or 
 barren, or partially covered with fast-melting 
 snows. 
 
 As days went on the move proved a wise 
 one. 
 
 No place could have been pleasanter. Every- 
 thing the doctor possessed was placed at the 
 disposal of his inmates. As for Marie, the 
 housekeeper, she certainly must have owned 
 the kindest heart in the world, and morning, 
 noon, and night, for nearly a month, never re- 
 laxed her attentions. Not that she was in any 
 way obtrusive ; for, like many of her class in 
 the Tyrol, there was a delicacy of feeling about 
 her, and, it may be added, a certain amount of 
 refinement, which invariably prevented her from 
 going too far in her endeavours. Many were 
 the gossips with Marie. She was quick and in- 
 telligent ; had travelled about a good deal with
 
 Taking a Bath. 127 
 
 the doctor, and had made use of her eyes and 
 head. 
 
 It was a pleasure to bid farewell to Strau- 
 binger's, the Bismarck rooms, and the roaring 
 waterfall. Straubinger himself I had never 
 seen, though I one day fruitlessly endeavoured 
 to gain audience with the renowned maitre. I 
 subsequently learned that you might ask for 
 him fifty times before he would come to you. 
 In Gastein he is a great man; magistrate, be- 
 times mayor, butcher, and general adjudicator 
 of all questions, public and domestic. Once 
 upon a time a gentleman, thinking his bill at 
 the hotel very much overcharged, requested to 
 see a magistrate, and forthwith was ushered 
 into the presence of Herr Straubinger himself. 
 It will easily be imagined how he fared in the 
 sequel. 
 
 The very day of removal from the hotel to 
 the doctor's, down came the long-looked-for 
 rain. It lasted some hours : and what a change 
 in the atmosphere and all vegetation when all 
 was over ! Everything until then had appeared 
 dried up and sunburnt. The trees were droop- 
 ing, the flowers hung down, the forget-me-nots,
 
 128 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 ■which here grow in wild profusion, were at 
 death's door. Now, in the course of a few 
 hours, all had brightened, had freshened into 
 new life and vigour. The air was cool ; and as 
 night drew on, it became colder than was 
 agreeable. 
 
 " Now you have the true Gastein air," cried 
 the doctor, coming up to pay his evening visit. 
 " Am I not right in sayiug that in summer it 
 is the coolest place in Europe?" 
 
 "It is now almost too much the other way," 
 I replied. " As cold as before it was hot. Are 
 you subject to these extremes ? " 
 
 " At night the true Gastein air is always cold 
 — that is, cold for summer. And so much the 
 better. The days will generally be hot enough. 
 If you wish to walk you must rise early, and 
 take care to be home before the sun has any 
 power." 
 
 No long walks ; no exertion of any sort or 
 description: such were the doctor's orders. 
 When I suggested to him one day that I should 
 like to climb one of the mountains, he cut a 
 caper in the room, and asked if I wished to ruin 
 my health, and undo all the effect of my baths.
 
 Taking a Bath. 129 
 
 " I don't perceive much effect to ruin," I 
 returned. " I feel weaker than when I came 
 here. Although I enjoy the baths and their 
 soothing influence, it is impossible to say that 
 they have done me any good." 
 
 This was true. After the fashion of the 
 little marchioness and her orange-peel, I had 
 often tried hard to make believe that I was 
 accomplishing wonders; but the effort, in itself 
 painful, had invariably to yield to stern 
 fact. 
 
 " I am glad to hear it," was the doctor's 
 reply. 
 
 " You have misunderstood me " I be- 
 
 gan. 
 
 " Not a bit," he interrupted. " You say you 
 feel less strong than when you came here, and 
 I reply I am glad of it. It is a good sign. 
 Up to the ninth bath you will get worse ; after 
 that, gradually better. The real benefit derived 
 from these baths does not as a rule show itself 
 for three months after they have been discon- 
 tinued." 
 
 " How is that?" 
 
 " I don't know. But it is almost invariably
 
 130 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 the case. The effect of the baths is never 
 immediate; they act upon the system gradu- 
 ally. I need not tell you the result is likely to 
 be more lasting." 
 
 If simplicity of living could do anything 
 towards recovery, there was undoubtedly every 
 cause for hope. Soon after six o'clock, Marie 
 would make her first appearance with break- 
 fast ; a frugal store, consisting of coffee, butter, 
 and two small rolls about the size and shape of 
 russet apples. This elaborate meal disposed 
 of, an hour's walk ensued, which, being down- 
 hill all the way there, and up-hill all the way 
 back, was usually as much as I could accom- 
 plish. 
 
 The same walk taken morning after morning 
 would have become monotonous enough, but 
 that it was scarcely possible to grow weary of 
 the scenery, which, at each fresh appearance, 
 seemed to show itself in some new aspect. 
 The variations of light and shade, the tints of 
 sky and mountain, were countless and ever- 
 changing. At times the latter would be buried 
 in a mist, leaving the valleys alone visible ; 
 again, the mountains would be clear, and the
 
 Taking a Bath. 131 
 
 valleys full of a white vapour that assumed 
 the appearance of a sea, as now for a moment 
 it stood still, and now rolled majestically along, 
 with a swelling, surging movement. One of 
 my favourite occupations was to sit and watch 
 these mists as they gradually unrolled them- 
 selves; to note the strange shapes they assumed, 
 the weird-like aspect they at times threw over 
 the landscape. Then, when the sun burst 
 forth from behind the grey clouds, how quickly 
 they would hurry away, as if afraid of being 
 pursued and evercome by so powerful an 
 enemy ! 
 
 It was a rare thing in these walks to meet 
 any one beyond the peasantry; and they 
 perhaps were the pleasantest people to encoun- 
 ter ; as a race of peasants, the handsomest I 
 had ever seen, and the most innately courteous ; 
 the tall, strong, athletic forms of the men well 
 set off by the picturesque costume of the coun- 
 try. The women in youth are many of them 
 beautiful, but they quickly grow old and ugly. 
 I have never seen faces so hard and wrinkled 
 as those of the aged women; many of their forms 
 were bowed and bent, and shrunken, almost,
 
 132 A Month at Gastein, 
 
 as it seemed, to a state of collapse. They are 
 subject to two sad scourges ; the loss of their 
 teeth while young, and a malady called goitre- 
 throats. The dress of the women was also 
 very picturesque, and some of them wore 
 showy jewellery round their necks, that would 
 have driven many a stern Calvinist to serioi s 
 discourse upon the pomps and vanities of the 
 world. 
 
 I often wondered whence they inherited their 
 beauty ; for they are an exception to the gene- 
 rality of the peasants in mountainous countries. 
 In Switzerland, for instance, the peasants are, 
 as a rule, remarkable for plainness, and are 
 inferior in mind and manners. They are less 
 simple and intelligent ; less courteous and hos- 
 pitable ; more selfish, and eager to do things 
 for the sake of gain. In the Salzkammergut, 
 as far as appearance w r as concerned, it was 
 much the same. 
 
 Nowhere, as here, have I ever seen so many 
 wild flowers. They grew in profusion, and 
 formed a distinctive feature in the landscape, 
 an object of interest in the walk. So abundant, 
 so varied in colour, that many a field has
 
 
 
 Gastein Peasant.
 
 Taking a Bath. 135 
 
 seemed clothed with a vast carpet of the most 
 brilliant hues. Here and there upon the 
 mountain sides, might be seen clusters of what 
 is always given as the Alpine rose ; and of 
 what I always imagined to be so until my 
 ignorance was enlightened with a shock by the 
 doctor. 
 
 We were one day strolling together in his 
 garden, enjoying the freshness of nature after 
 a shower. Suddenly he pounced upon a small 
 tree bearing a solitary blossom somewhat re- 
 sembling the wild rose of our English hedges, 
 but fuller and more perfect. 
 
 "Ah!" he exclaimed. " I am delighted." 
 
 "What's the matter?" said I, thinking 
 from his excited manner that he had found a 
 treasure, or made some new geological dis- 
 covery. 
 
 " I am delighted," he repeated. "Delighted 
 that this tree should blossom before your de- 
 parture. Here is the true Alpine rose. That 
 other flower that they give you for the Alpine 
 rose is not a rose at all, as you must know. It is 
 a species of the rhododendron, but so common 
 as to be universally known by the more ro~
 
 136 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 rnantic name. The veritable Alpine rose is 
 far more rare. This is the true specimen. 
 And this, as far as I know, is the only natural 
 rose without a thorn." 
 
 " A rose without a thorn ! Then what," 
 said I, "becomes of the proverb?" 
 
 The doctor laughed. " When you hear it 
 quoted, you may contradict it," he replied. 
 " Send all disbelievers to me for proof. 
 Examine this tree for yourself. Take this 
 stem and look at it." 
 
 He plucked the flower with a branch. It 
 was certainly without thorns. 
 
 " I hope," said I, " all proverbs are not to 
 terminate a long life after this fashion." 
 
 " There are a few, I believe, would not bear 
 too close examination," answered the doctor. 
 " But it is not our business to refute them." 
 
 " Do you know," said I, looking hard 
 at the flower, " I am sorry to have been mis- 
 taken in the true Alpine rose. This one is not 
 half so pretty as the other — which also pos- 
 sesses a character of its own, and, in look at 
 any rate, is far more uncommon." 
 
 " Ah," said the doctor, putting a hand on
 
 Taking a Bath. 137 
 
 my shoulder, " does not this remind you of 
 real life ? Do we not often mistake the false 
 for the true ? are we not prone to imagine 
 such and such a thing good and great ? its 
 possession happiness unspeakable — so long as 
 it is impossible to us ? And when a leaf is 
 turned in the book of life, and the impossible 
 is within our grasp, does it not change aspect 
 as completely as turning changes a kaleido- 
 scope?" 
 
 " But " returned I. 
 
 " But me no buts," he interrupted, laughing. 
 " I know what you would say: that you still 
 regret the old rose. Well, what have I to do 
 with that ? Truth is truth, and to it all else 
 must yield."
 
 CHAPTEK IX. 
 
 RAINY DAYS. 
 
 /CLOSELY shut in by mountains; exposed 
 ^ only to the South winds, and these to a 
 very modified degree ; the air of Gastein was 
 more than commonly trying and relaxing. But 
 for the cold nights it would have been well- 
 nigh unbearable. After rain, too, the atmo- 
 sphere would be refreshing : and rain fell 
 almost daily. 
 
 It was a luxury to sit out in one of the 
 arbours, after a sharp shower, and note its 
 effects. Then indeed, as the doctor termed 
 it, you breathed the true mountain air ; and 
 had it been always thus, Gastein would more 
 than have held its own in comparison with 
 other European climates. But so great was 
 the amount of evaporation, that in a few hours, 
 even after long, heavy rain, all traces thereof 
 would disappear. 
 
 If two days passed without a shower the
 
 Rainy Days. 139 
 
 place became intolerable ; and therefore, as 
 Nature generally is true to herself, rainy days 
 in Gastein were in the predominant. But they 
 must not be compared with the rainy days in 
 England, or thought to be as unpleasant. A 
 shower, perhaps, lasted an hour or two ; then 
 the clouds rolled away from the tops of the 
 mountains, the sun shone forth, the blue sky 
 made glad the heart of man, and in a very 
 little time you could not tell that rain had 
 fallen. 
 
 One week's incessant downpour we certainly 
 had, but it was a grand exception. And dull 
 enough, and dreary, the exception proved. 
 Everybody looked blue and disconsolate. The 
 band took permanent refuge in the wandelbahn, 
 and thundered out Strauss' s waltzes, varied by 
 operatic selections. The visitors walked up 
 and down the long room as if their lives 
 depended upon exercise, until the very boards 
 creaked under the weight of the burden. One 
 old lady was wont to turn out in a kind of 
 military cloak, and a nightcap surmounted by 
 an enormous brown hat. She had been to 
 the waters of Carlsbad, for liver or lungs, or
 
 140 A Month at Gastrin. 
 
 the derangement of some other internal organ, 
 and was finishing up with Gastein. In this 
 guise she one day fastened herself upon me, 
 no doubt mistaking an astonished gaze for one 
 of fascination ; and she chattered away, now 
 in German, now in broken English, until the 
 efforts of her victim to preserve gravity were 
 becoming painful. Luckily the doctor came 
 in at the right moment, and released me from 
 the humiliation of an outburst. After this I 
 was prepared for her, and on further acquaint- 
 ance she proved as good and kindly natured as 
 she appeared eccentric. 
 
 It was certainly a dreadfully wet week, and 
 at the end of five days people began to ask 
 each other whether it would ever cease. I 
 hunted up the library woman and made her 
 look out her brightest and lightest novels, 
 which were eagerly devoured, in spite of the 
 doctor's commands that all mental exertion, 
 even the most trifling, should be avoided. But 
 flesh and blood cannot endure beyond certain 
 limits. I had by heart the colour of every 
 pair of eyes in the place, the cut of every 
 figure ; I believe I could distinguish the sound
 
 Rainy Days. 141 
 
 of each particular footstep, and the exact click 
 with which every man closed the door. I 
 summed every pane of glass, and enjoyed a 
 continual feast of terror in watching the awful 
 and impossible contortions of the man with 
 the violoncello. It seemed for all the world 
 as if music caused a continual stream of 
 rheumatic pains to flow through his body. 
 When the grand crash terminated in a sudden 
 calm, betraying everybody's voice at a shrill 
 pitch, his chest would heave and the perspira- 
 tion pour off his face as if it would mock and 
 laugh at the feebler efforts of the streaming- 
 elements of the sky. I was wont to pity the 
 man, though he never knew it, and therefore 
 was none the better for it; and would wonder 
 who supplied him with handkerchiefs, and how 
 many at a time he carried about with him. 
 The rest of the band, too, did its share of 
 swaying and surging, so that every now and 
 then you might have fancied them on board 
 ship, pitching and tossing in mid ocean. But 
 none came up to the 'cello, as he called his 
 bass, and he certainly contrived to make it 
 conspicuous amidst the chorus of instruments.
 
 142 A Month at G ostein. 
 
 They were a total of twelve or fourteen men, 
 all married, but their wives did not go about 
 with them, and only enjoyed the pleasure of 
 their company for a month twice a year. Thus 
 must they have revelled in a life of perpetual 
 honeymoon : and perhaps — who knows ? — 
 were none the less happy in consequence. 
 
 Wet weeks always seem as if they would 
 never come to an end, like long lanes without 
 turning. But that wet week at Gastein did at 
 last put forth signs of a break up. It was 
 morning, about twelve o'clock, and the eccentric 
 old lady first made the discovery. For some 
 time she had been intently gazing from one of 
 the windows looking southward ; the strings of 
 her nightcap had gradually become violently 
 agitated, as if soft winds were playing at hide- 
 and-seek in her brain and running out at her 
 ears. Suddenly she clasped her hands tragi- 
 cally, in a manner peculiar to her people, and 
 uttered a cry of "Der Himmel! der Himmel!" 
 There was an instant rush towards the spot ; 
 then a confused murmur of voices which 
 gradually grew louder ; and then it was 
 generally known that a small patch of blue was
 
 
 35 
 
 aj 
 H 
 
 On 
 

 
 Rainy Days. 145 
 
 discernible between and beyond the clouds ; 
 just over the mountain called the Barometer. 
 
 One antiquated spinster of forty-five, with 
 thin curls and a sharp, red nose, who happened 
 to be seated next to me at the time, brought 
 out a pencil and paper and proceeded to jot 
 down a memorandum for her diary. She was 
 evidently weak-sighted, and wrote in such large 
 characters that it was impossible to pass them 
 over. 
 
 " For the first time for a whole week, a small 
 portion of azure is visible in the celestial 
 firmament. Oh joy! Apparently we may now 
 hope shortly for a cessation of the outpouring 
 of the angry and watery elements of the upper 
 regions. How vividly can I at this moment 
 realize the emotions of Herr and Frau Noah ; 
 when, sending forth for the third time the dove 
 from the ark, she returned no more." 
 
 Then she put back paper and pencil into her 
 pocket, and threw upon the room at large a 
 sigh and a gaze expressive of deep sentiment- 
 ality. 
 
 But the small portion of azure in the celestial 
 firmament proved no false prophet, no delusive 
 
 L
 
 146 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 hope. The next morning rose bright and 
 glowing. The roads, hitherto impassable, dried 
 up as by magic ; walks were resumed. During 
 this time I had not relaxed in my habit of 
 early rising. No strict monk of the severest 
 order could have more rigidly followed out the 
 rules of his prison-house. And day after day 
 the events to be recorded were the bath, the 
 table-d'hote, and the rain. 
 
 Though I seemed to derive but little benefit 
 from the baths, they were nevertheless enjoyed 
 and looked forward to ; and when after the 
 seventh a day's rest was advised, it created a 
 blank in the quiet life. Subsequent baths were 
 but a repetition of the first. After each one 
 of them there was the same light and buoyant 
 feeling ; nought of languor or relaxation ; no 
 inducement to sleep or heaviness. But the 
 lightness and buoyancy would go off after a 
 time, and leave one, not prostrated, but disin- 
 clined for all exertion. This appeared to be 
 the result not of the baths, but of the warm, 
 relaxing air ; an influence that everyone cannot 
 battle with. 
 
 No doubt it affects people in different ways
 
 Rainy Days. 147 
 
 according to their constitutions or maladies. 
 To those suffering from want of strength or 
 overwork, Gastein will give no immediate relief 
 beyond the relief always yielded by perfect rest. 
 Shut in so closely by mountains, there are times 
 when they appear to weigh upon the spirit with 
 strong oppression, and it seems an effort to 
 draw breath. You pant to get beyond and 
 above them ; the eye wearies of its confined 
 vision, and longs once more for a stretch of 
 country over which it may roam with freedom. 
 Perhaps as a last resource it looks upwards and 
 gazes out into space, but there it has nothing 
 to rest upon ; nothing but the dazzling blue, 
 which seems to recede, the more you try to 
 fathom its limits. 
 
 In spite of its wild beauty, I caught myself 
 many a time dwelling upon the moment when 
 I should turn my back upon Gastein, and 
 launch out once more into the world. No 
 doubt, centuries ago, before it was known as a 
 watering place, the primitive inhabitants of the 
 valley must have thought it the end of creation, 
 if they thought about such things at all. Such 
 it verily appears to be, and is undoubtedly,
 
 148 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 as far as the globe can be said to have an 
 end. 
 
 A mile beyond Wild-bad-Gastein is Bockstein, 
 and here the end comes. It consists of a few 
 houses picturesquely jotted about, and a church, 
 imposing for so small a place ; a building of 
 white stone, surmounted by a dome, that if it 
 could take a walk hand in hand down Fleet 
 Street, with that of St. Paul's, the two might 
 pass muster for the extremes of dwarf and 
 giant. It stands out in pleasant contrast with 
 the background of green mountains : one of the 
 latter a mountain of gold that for many years 
 was worked and yielded a rich return. For 
 three months in the year the people of Bock- 
 stein are deprived of the sun. On the first of 
 February, Candlemas Eve, they all assemble in 
 church, and at nine o'clock, during the cere- 
 mony, the first ray of the sun shoots down 
 through a small window let in at the right spot 
 in the roof for that purpose. This the people 
 are taught to consider a miracle. 
 
 The first time I walked to Bockstein I paid 
 the church a visit, and found the interior some- 
 what glittering ; the dome covered with gaudy
 
 Lower Wateefall.
 
 Rainy Days. 1 5 1 
 
 paintings in which smart colours and a rather 
 indelicate display of legs attracted the atten- 
 tion. On coming out I espied a path by the 
 mountain side that seemed to promise a 
 pleasant and short cut home. Pleasant it 
 proved, but far from short. It led by the side 
 of the river, which here is extremely narrow 
 and of no depth : and goes rushing over stones 
 and tiny rocks with a loud murmuring sound 
 that gives it the effect of a small troubled sea. 
 The path was a series of rough undulations, 
 and by the time the end was in sight, I found 
 myself knocked up with the unwonted exer- 
 tion. As fate would have it, I met the 
 doctor close to his villa, who soon discovered 
 that for once his injunctions had been dis- 
 regarded. 
 
 "Wrong," he cried ; " very wrong. If you 
 despise my counsels, I will have nothing to do 
 with you." 
 
 " I had no idea it was so far," was all that 
 could be urged by way of excuse. " The beauty 
 of the day, the attractions of the walk, are in- 
 sensibly alluring. But the air possesses some- 
 thing fatal to exertion."
 
 152 A Month at Gasiein. 
 
 "For that reason I forbid it," he replied. 
 " Besides, the baths are trying to the strength, 
 and if you will persist in taxing it during their 
 progress, you will, as I have said before, leave 
 Gastein worse than you found it. It is now 
 nearly seven o'clock. I recommend you to go 
 in and take a quiet tea." 
 
 The quiet tea, to echo the doctor, consisted 
 of a glass of milk, bread, butter, and honey. 
 Nothing more. Tea and coffee he sternly pro- 
 hibited. To-night, as soon as I entered, Marie 
 came up with the tray. She was uncommonly 
 fond of putting in an appearance upon the 
 slightest pretext ; and although apparently 
 always brimful of work in a quiet way, would 
 at any time desert her kitchens for a quarter 
 of an hour's gossip. 
 
 The social distance between masters and 
 servants is not so strictly preserved in Ger- 
 many as in England. To begin with, the lat- 
 ter as a class are more intelligent ; they are 
 better educated ; and seldom show forth any 
 great evidence of unrefinement to shock the 
 senses. They are more poetical and romantic; 
 expressions that may seem out of place, per-
 
 Rainy Days. 153 
 
 haps, in connection with the humbler orders : 
 but it is true to their inborn nature. Again, 
 you may approach them familiarly, and they 
 will not forget themselves, or thrust upon you 
 undue familiarity in return. Marie, the doc- 
 tor's housekeeper, was a superior woman of 
 her class : a good, motherly kind of face, such 
 as one likes to see flitting about a sick room : 
 a little, gentle woman who trod softly, and did 
 everything with noiseless ease : a woman with- 
 out angles. We all know how unpleasant 
 angles are in her sex. 
 
 Marie had voyaged a little and had a good 
 deal to say concerning all she had seen. She 
 had been to two or three theatres in her lifetime, 
 and after the first one had gone nearly mad 
 with excitement for a whole week. She had 
 spent one season with the doctor at Nice, but 
 the climate proved nearly fatal to her. He 
 practised there every winter, and she remained 
 in Gastcin, taking her ease at the villa, or 
 going out for a day's work by way of breaking 
 the monotony. Marie was blessed with what 
 the doctor called an acutely nervous organiza- 
 tion, and could always foretell change of wea-
 
 154 A Mouth at Gas /cm. 
 
 ther, especially in the matter of thunder. In 
 this she was better than a barometer. 
 
 To-night she came up in her soft list slippers, 
 and having set out the elaborate repast, pre- 
 tended to be putting the chairs straight, though 
 they were as orderly and proper as if they had 
 not been moved for a hundred years. 
 
 "Any news, to-night, Marie?" I asked, by 
 way of encouragement. 
 
 "None," she said, abandoning on the spot 
 the unoffending chairs. " Only that some 
 people have been to look at the rooms and 
 did not take them." 
 
 The doctor had four sets of rooms, at any 
 one's disposal, but during the whole of our 
 sojourn we had the house to ourselves : a 
 luxury to be obtained only early or late in the 
 season. 
 
 "Were you sorry?" said I, selfish enough 
 to be glad on my own score. 
 
 "Yes, very," replied Marie. "I like com- 
 pany. An empty house to me is like the 
 grave- When I heard you were coming I 
 danced for joy." 
 
 " Yet we might have proved troublesome
 
 Rainy Days. 155 
 
 customers," I remarked; "and worked the 
 flesh off your bones." 
 
 " There is but little to work off," she re- 
 turned, laughing. Which was true. Marie would 
 have made a sorry wife for an alderman. " Be- 
 sides," she added, " I never think any amount 
 of work a trouble for those who come here." 
 
 " Tell me a little of your history," I said. 
 " How long have you been with the doctor ? " 
 
 " With the Herr doctor ! Nineteen years. 
 Though some part of that time was spent 
 with his good mother." 
 
 " Nineteen years ! — almost half a lifetime. 
 What changes you may have seen. Have you 
 never been married ? " 
 
 " No," she answered, laughing, and blush- 
 ing in a shame-faced sort of way. 
 
 "Hov is that?" 
 
 " I don't know. We were ten children ; six 
 brothers, all married ; four girls. But no man 
 ever came for either one of us ; never once. I 
 am ashamed to tell of it." 
 
 And Marie, to conceal her blushes and her 
 shame, with another quiet laugh, lied from the 
 room, and sought refuge in her own kitchen.
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 AT THE TABLE-D'HOTE. 
 
 Tj^ACH clay now brought in a fresh influx 
 of visitors. Carriages burdened with 
 travellers and luggage, white with dust, would 
 drive up to the hotel, the postboys cracking 
 whips and blowing horns with a heartiness 
 more real than pleasing. Gastein was getting 
 crowded, and the table-d'hote at Straubinger's 
 overflowing. First the long table was filled 
 up ; then other tables, one after another, were 
 brought in to the rescue, until at length there 
 was room for no more. 
 
 The long table had not changed faces for 
 some time, and it had been a daily source of 
 occupation and amusement to watch the habits 
 and manners of the people during the dinner 
 hour. It is a matter for wonder and per- 
 plexity that the Germans, refined and polished 
 in many things, should so many of them be
 
 At the Table d'Hote. 1 5 7 
 
 the exact opposite to this in their mode of 
 eating. Few humble village cottages in Eng- 
 land but could boast of manners at table as 
 decent as these exhibited : manners, often 
 creating a feeling of disgust over which time 
 and familiarity had no softening influence. 
 
 The company at the long table was a motley 
 group, varied enough. At the head, in right 
 of senior visitor, sat a retired hotel-keeper from 
 Vienna, who had come to Gastein for paralysis 
 of the legs. His face was so set that the ex- 
 pression never once changed : not the faintest 
 shadow of a smile ever passed over it ; its 
 thin dark features might have been carved in 
 stone. He was wheeled about in a bath-chair, 
 and two or three times a day would walk up 
 and down the wandelbahn for twenty minutes, 
 leaning on the arm of a servant whose face for 
 ugliness might have rivalled the sphinx. The 
 hotel-keeper had evidently retired upon his 
 fortune, and was accompanied by his daughter ; 
 a loud girl, who gave herself an unlimited 
 amount of airs, and walked about with a 
 Grecian bend and dressed in the very ex- 
 treme of fashion.
 
 158 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 From his seat, the ex-inn-keeper could be 
 
 seen down each side the table, with his 
 
 stern, impenetrable, immovable expression, like 
 
 a skeleton at a feast. His daughter graced 
 
 his right hand ; but, as I happened to be on 
 
 that side also, some ten seats down, her charms 
 
 were lost to me. First on the left came a little 
 
 old man, thin and wiry, with a large stiff shirt 
 
 collar, looking for all the world as if he had 
 
 marched out of one of Dickens's books. I 
 
 quite warmed towards him for his old-fashioned 
 
 quaintness, his familiar, English appearance. 
 
 But he was German to the back-bone ; had 
 
 never been in England, and never read Dickens. 
 
 Next him sat a tall, lean, cadaverous looking 
 
 object, conspicuous in a white neckcloth and 
 
 large diamond studs. He was a Eussian count, 
 
 visiting Gastein for a weakness of the spine. 
 
 This was not inconceivable, for the first day he 
 
 rose from table it was startling to behold him ; 
 
 and when, at length, he stood erect, like a 
 
 second Tower of Babel, he was a full head and 
 
 shoulders above the next tallest man in the 
 
 room. It would be a feat to record his name 
 
 from memory, which seemed composed of about
 
 Interior of a Cottage.
 
 At the Table-d ' Hote. 161 
 
 twenty-four consonants -and two vowels. He 
 was reported immensely rich ; and if diamonds 
 are any confirmation of such rumours, be might 
 have been the Emperor of Eussia himself. 
 Diamonds flashed in his shirt ; diamonds, 
 emeralds, rubies, blazed on his fingers ; his 
 valet had been heard to affirm that he even 
 wore diamond buckles to his garters ; but no 
 one was called upon to put faith in the unseen. 
 The visible was enough. 
 
 Next in order came a man remarkably stout ; 
 so that had a contrast been planned, none 
 more perfect or absurd could have been pre- 
 sented. The contrast also never seemed to 
 become a matter to pass unnoticed ; but 
 each day, fresh and green, struck upon the 
 senses of ridicule and mirth. Then came two 
 ladies, mother and daughter, who invariably 
 entered late, with a great amount of state, and 
 a ceremonious crossing of the hands, that 
 looked as if they felt themselves, like Mrs. 
 Hominy, walking up the room to the admiration 
 of all beholders, in a procession of two. The 
 extent of bowing that had to be gone through 
 before they finally composed themselves was a 
 
 M
 
 1 62 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 serious interruption to dinner. Then came a 
 fair young man — who would have been good 
 looking but for a look of effeminacy — with whom 
 the younger of the two ladies kept up a daily 
 flirtation. He wore an eye-glass, which he had 
 not the courage to use ; and in this respect 
 how happy would it be for some effeminate 
 dandies did they but follow his example. He 
 blushed every time he spoke, and fidgetted with 
 his guard, so that possibly his particular com- 
 plaint was nervousness. But, like almost every- 
 one else there, in appearance he was the embodi- 
 ment of health. The morning he went away, 
 I caught sight of him in a corner of the dili- 
 gence, which he had all to himself; and, with 
 a polite bow to each other, we parted — perhaps 
 for ever. 
 
 Next at the table came an amusing couple : 
 a husband and wife, who had turned the hill of 
 life, and were quietly and comfortably going 
 downwards. But the lady had not by any 
 means renounced the pomps and vanities of ex- 
 istence. Each day saw her in some fresh dress, 
 fresh jewellery; and once or twice, when ab- 
 sent from her place, my neighbour whispered
 
 At the Table-cT Hote. 163 
 
 to me that her maid must have failed at the 
 last moment in accomplishing a new bit of 
 finery. She was a stout, good-natured dame, 
 with a countenance full and red, giving the im- 
 pression of too much tightness of gown about 
 the throat ; an effect increased by a pair of eyes 
 not perfectly straight, though sufficiently so not 
 to be unpleasant. Her husband was thin and 
 strong-looking, and it remained an unsolved 
 problem which of the two was the invalid. He 
 talked incessantly to his left-hand neighbour, 
 now and then remembering his wife by helping 
 her to wine, or vouchsafing a passing remark. 
 
 It would perhaps become tedious to record 
 the peculiarities of the guests as each appeared 
 in turn. Near me sat a small dark man who 
 reminded me continually of one of the com- 
 posers, though I never could quite make up my 
 mind which of them. Beyond him came the 
 bear and horror of the table : a slovenly 
 attired man with a round head, an apple red, 
 oily complexion, and prominent brown eyes 
 most terribly out of the direct line : a large, 
 sensual mouth, which took in of every dish at 
 least four times the quantity of any one else
 
 164 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 at the table, although its owner was positively 
 as thin as a skeleton. His mode of eating was 
 too coarse to contemplate ; but in this respect 
 how few set him a worthy example ! 
 
 Knives and forks were held any fashion. 
 Now five or six pieces of meat would be cut, 
 the knife be put down, the fork promoted to 
 single duty. Now the fork would be aban- 
 doned, or rested alarmingly in the hand, teeth 
 upwards, and the knife seized upon to do hard 
 work amongst the peas and other vegetables. 
 The plate cleared and perhaps mopped up with 
 a piece of bread — knife and fork would be 
 thrown into it carelessly, crossed, or at right 
 angles, or with handles where the blades ought 
 to be. Unlike many other places, here most 
 people sent away their knives and forks, and 
 had the felicity of getting some one else's in 
 exchange, warm, and just wiped through with 
 a towel. Between each course tooth-picks 
 came into use, not for a moment, but during 
 the whole period of waiting. The intervals 
 are not short. The hotel people evidently 
 wished to delude the minds of their guests 
 with ideas of elaboration, and so made up
 
 At the Table-d? Hdte. 165 
 
 in time what was wanted in dishes. Sitting 
 down at one o'clock, you rose up at half-past 
 two. Often after waiting the usual quarter of 
 an hour between each course, a dish would be 
 handed round that more than half the room 
 could not touch ; and to avoid the awkward- 
 ness of the pause, and to satisfy the cravings 
 of hunger, the majority would break bread and 
 sip wine. Here, if anywhere, to quote an old 
 saying from the Borderland, was it possible to 
 find the "grunds o' your stamick," though cer- 
 tainly without being any the better for it. 
 
 Vain and delusive was the idea that as 
 visitors increased the dinners would improve. 
 Rather, was the progress of a backward ten- 
 dency. This probably was one reason why 
 Herr Straubinger was as difficult to catch 
 sight of as the Empress of China; another 
 reason of course being to keep wisely out of 
 the way of complaints. The fortune he is 
 making must be fabulous as that of a Pacha 
 with two tails, or a Mandarin with nine but- 
 tons. He holds there somewhat the position 
 of a despotic monarch, and can make or mar 
 his own laws.
 
 1 66 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 Mutton, to be faithful in small chronicles, 
 was never brought to the table. Whether 
 sheep were scarce or only unpopular, was a 
 matter shrouded in mystery ; but during the 
 whole of my wanderings in the Tyrol, the 
 number of sheep seen might easily have been 
 counted on one hand. The poor cows, on the 
 contrary, were numerous, and frightfully thin : 
 and kept up so incessant a tintamarre with 
 their crazy, battered-out tin bells, that ner- 
 vously inclined persons were driven wild with 
 pity for the unhappy beasts, and excusable 
 rage in themselves. 
 
 Absence of all animals was a feature in 
 Gastein. No cat choruses at night. Cats 
 were almost unknown : and dogs nearly so. 
 The few were so frightfully ugly — long, thin, 
 unshapely bodies, shaven of every vestige 
 of hair, the end of the tail, the head, and the 
 paws excepted — that they might have been 
 taken for guardians of some infernal region. 
 It is possible that cats, who are said to be 
 nervous animals, found their health affected 
 by the climate, and the perpetual vapours 
 arising from the waters.
 
 At the Table-d'Hote. 167 
 
 These vapours indeed were bad, not for the 
 cats only, who wisely kept away, but for many 
 human beings who, less wise, do not exercise 
 a like discretion. Many a wife, for example, 
 in good health, accompanying her husband, 
 falls ill during her stay at Gastein. There are 
 numberless people upon whom it acts almost 
 as a poison. Carrying out the idea, it is easy 
 to believe that for others, and in certain speci- 
 fied maladies, it is equally beneficial. The 
 fact of so many falling ill there proves that the 
 place undoubtedly possesses certain powers. 
 The chief reason for this indisposition is that 
 the vapours rising from the baths and hot 
 springs are inhaled : and these, restoring to 
 health those who stand in need of them, have 
 in opposite cases a contrary effect. They who 
 assert that the Gastein waters contain no spe- 
 cial virtue above ordinary waters, will find this 
 a strong witness against them. 
 
 The amount of evaporation in Gastein is so 
 great that the process is always going on ; 
 and when the earth has become dry and 
 parched for want of rain, the springs and 
 waterfalls come in to the rescue. Many a
 
 1 68 A Month at Gastrin. 
 
 time in the early morning, between five and 
 six o'clock, I have watched the sun drawing up 
 the spray from the waterfall. Gradually 
 ascending, it first became a mist, and then a 
 cloud, which so spread and increased that the 
 whole mountain side was concealed by it. A 
 strange sight, never witnessed elsewhere by me, 
 perhaps for want of opportunity ; and never 
 seen at a later hour of the clay. A sight curious 
 and almost weirdlike, to note the spray change 
 gradually to mist and vapour, and then to 
 the thicker cloud : to watch the process ascend- 
 ing slowly, and transforming itself as if under 
 the influence of a wand held by some unseen 
 spirit of the air : increasing from the small 
 rainbow-like streak until it became large 
 enough to envelop the mountain as in a huge 
 white shroud. Then, attracted by the moun- 
 tains, it would linger lovingly about them, 
 entwining them, as it were, in a fond, sisterly 
 embrace ; whispering to them the close, mys- 
 terious connection existing between mountain 
 and mist ; between land and water ; between 
 earth and heaven ; in a word between the 
 Creator and the created. Then gradually it
 
 At the Table- d 'Hotc. 169 
 
 would roll and roll away and disperse, and lose 
 itself in the deep blue of the sky, which here 
 seems so high and clear, as to be the very 
 quickening of the word ethereal. 
 
 The soul amidst such scenes feels its power; 
 and with a force they cannot quite possess, even 
 amidst the echoing aisles and fretted vaults of 
 a temple, the grand words of the canticle 
 whisper themselves : — 
 
 " Oli, all ye works of the Lord, bless ye 
 the Lord : jiraisc Him and magnify Him fur ever ! 
 
 " Oh, ye winds of God, bless ye the Lord : 
 praise Him and magnify Him for ever ! 
 
 " Oh, ye mountains and hills, bless ye the 
 Lord : praise Him and magnify Him for ever /" 
 
 Though the air of Gastein is not bracing, 
 none can deny its purity. It possesses some- 
 thing that makes itself felt, almost speaking 
 to you in words : something soothing and deli- 
 cious to the senses, that stills the nerves and 
 rests the brain ; suspending all powers of ex- 
 ertion, but breathing-in an intoxicating sense 
 of life. 
 
 " Could you but go up naked into the woods,"
 
 1 70 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 remarked the doctor one day, " after the bath, 
 and in that state take the air, you would feel 
 life creeping into your veins, all your mus- 
 cles hardening, and weakness giving place to 
 strength." 
 
 " Why, then, don't you organize something 
 of the sort?" I returned. " Why not have a 
 place set apart for this purpose, where your 
 patients, protected by a linen gown, might 
 receive the benefit of this wonderful air?" 
 
 " It would never do," replied the doctor, 
 shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head. 
 " We should acquire a reputation for cannibal- 
 ism ; be called savages ; the world would come 
 down upon us with self-righteous fury. So for 
 the sake of an idea, my patients must renounce 
 one of the best means of restoring them to 
 health. In Gastein it would have a double and 
 treble effect, for the baths open the pores of the 
 skin, and render them peculiarly susceptible to 
 all atmospheric influences." 
 
 " Is this your reason for making your patients 
 lie down after every bath ?" 
 
 " It is one of them. You then get all the 
 air possible, though in a modified form. Before
 
 At the Table-d' Hote. 171 
 
 reaching your room, it has, figuratively speak- 
 ing, passed through a number of strainers, only 
 that it has become less, and not more, refined 
 by the process." 
 
 " What other reasons have you?" 
 " Best, for one thing. Rest to body and 
 mind. Want of rest is the cause of half the 
 existing maladies. Men do too much now-a- 
 days. Those who have work don't know how 
 or where to stop. Those who have none, but 
 live an idle life, use up their strength in gaiety 
 and dissipation. It is impossible to be moderate 
 in this age. Hence the reason that brain- 
 power is diminishing." 
 
 There was a good deal, doubtless, in these 
 views ; but the doctor himself was an example 
 of doing too much work rather than too little. 
 He appeared to be in all places at the same 
 time. If you wanted him you had but to take up 
 your station in any part of Gastein, and before 
 five minutes had expired, you would certainly 
 catch sight of the coat and yellow umbrella 
 flying round the corner, or darting off at right 
 angles; and then you might fly after him, and 
 take your chance of catching him.
 
 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 UNDER THE MOONBEAMS. 
 
 NE night the doctor came up to point out 
 from the balcony the effect of the landscape 
 in the light of a full moon. The moon, that 
 night, was unusually brilliant, the Btars bright 
 and flashing, seeming far higher and larger 
 than they appear in our heavier English atmo- 
 sphere. Here veritably the moon reigned Queen 
 of Night, shedding her gentle beams upon all 
 creation. The sight was indeed a rare one : 
 never to pass out of memory. All the wildness 
 and grandeur of the place was before us, soft- 
 ened but not concealed by the pale silvery 
 light. The mountains loomed forth in dense, 
 black masses, their shapes distinctly outlined, 
 greater and more solemn than under the broad, 
 strong sunshine. Here and there the village 
 houses stood out, small and white. The snow, 
 visible only from the ponderous gold mountain 
 to the right, gleamed and sparkled as if fairies
 
 Under the Moonbeams. i jt, 
 
 were in possession, preparing for the revels of 
 a midnight banquet. What would it be to be 
 amongst them at this witching hour ; to look 
 down upon the world from the great mountain, 
 and watch the play of the moonbeams upon the 
 hundred glaciers ! Here and there the sha- 
 dows of the slopes were deep, and the woods 
 looked black as Erebus ; so dense and ghostly 
 that each moment you fancied to behold a 
 phantom group come issuing from its shades 
 with noiseless tread and pace sepulchral. 
 
 The village lay before us in repose ; a few 
 lights gleaming from windows as sole signal of 
 life. No sound to break the tomb-like stillness but 
 that of the mighty torrent, with its constant, 
 eternal roar: unceasing for centuries past, and 
 for aught we know, for centuries to come. Its 
 white mass of water shone out in the moonlight, 
 and the spray could be seen distinctly ascending, 
 catching the beams upon its numberless parti- 
 cles, and reflecting them in the varied colours 
 of the rainbow. It was a scene of enchant- 
 ment ; and those who gazed might fancy them- 
 selves genii of the night, for no other living 
 sound, no other living being, was evident.
 
 1 74 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 The silver thread of the snow ran down the 
 gold mountain until lost by the intervening hill. 
 Here and there an odd, solitary tree stood out 
 upon the summit, stretching forth its branches 
 like some weird, skeleton demon, issuing forth 
 its spells upon a sleeping world. Often as I had 
 gazed upon the scene by day, much as I had 
 grown to love it, its effect upon the imagination 
 was as nothing compared with the impression 
 of this moonlit, starlit night. 
 
 " How glorious ! " one of us exclaimed, after 
 a long silence given to varied emotions. " And 
 yet how unearthly ! " 
 
 "Glorious indeed!" replied the doctor. 
 " Perhaps because so unearthly. A scene 
 with which I cannot grow familiar ; it strikes 
 upon me always with fresh solemnity. Now 
 you are able to realise the extreme wildness of 
 Gastein. There is scarcely another spot like 
 it in the world." 
 
 " I know of none," answered I. "It makes 
 me feel very far out of the world. How Schiller 
 would have revelled in this ! ' ' 
 
 The remark was called forth by an arbour 
 on the opposite mountain which had been
 
 Under the Moonbeams. 175 
 
 erected years ago and called after the poet. 
 The previous day the doctor had adorned the 
 front of the arbour with a white bust of Schiller : 
 and so strong was the light that we fancied 
 we could just see the white speck gleaming out 
 from its dark background. He had crowned 
 the forehead with a wreath of laurel-leaves 
 brought by him from Italy; and having some 
 acquaintance with Schiller's daughter, had that 
 day written her an account of what he had 
 done. He pointed out her likeness in his 
 album ; the portrait of a lady who was no 
 longer young but who in youth must have been 
 good and pleasant looking. The expression of 
 her face, adorned by white hair and a calm 
 looking cap, was noble and sedate. She had 
 inherited a little talent from her father, but not 
 sufficient to make her known to the world. 
 
 He gave me that evening a photograph of 
 Eiickert, received from the poet himself; who, 
 in the doctor's opinion, possessed one of the 
 greatest imaginations Germany ever produced. 
 On the back of it he wrote one of Eiickert' s 
 verses, and one of his favourite mottoes; which 
 the poet had not only written but earned
 
 .176 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 out through life. The face was evidence of 
 the assertion : beautiful with a beauty seen 
 only in such natures. 
 
 "Das ist der Zauberbabn, womit Du Alles stillst : 
 
 Wolle nur was Da sollst, so kannst Da was Du willst"* 
 
 The doctor had known many of the great 
 men of Germany in his time, and amongst 
 them that brightest of spirits — Mendelssohn. 
 
 We gazed long at the scene before us ; until 
 the moon was high in the heavens, and we 
 chilly with the night air ; then turned into the 
 house, and at once into another world. 
 
 The following evening I was seated quietly 
 enjoying tea, and deep in the pages of a book, 
 when there suddenly occurred a slight com- 
 motion in the passage outside. Then the door 
 was stealthily unlatched, and sounds of an 
 unknown music vibrated through the room. 
 Listening for a moment I tried to recognize 
 the instrument, but in vain. It was neither 
 like the violin nor the harp, and yet somewhat 
 resembled both. At last I thought of the 
 zither, of which I had heard so much: the 
 
 * " This is the magical spell, with which you all may still : 
 
 Only will what you ought, and you may do what you will."
 
 Under the Moonbeams. i yy 
 
 instrument the Tyrolese peasantry handle with 
 so much skill. I went to the door and there 
 sat Sebastian, the houseman, as he was called, 
 his face a broad ripple of smiles, his zither 
 before him on a table. 
 
 He was doing his best to draw forth sweet 
 sounds from the strings, but the instrument was 
 old and crazy, and had been untouched for 
 years. Sebastian was a fine type of the 
 peasantry ; a handsome, well made man, with 
 iron-grey hair, and a sparkle still in his eye. 
 In his younger days he had been expert with 
 the instrument ; foremost in the dance ; but, 
 as he said, he and his zither had alike grown 
 old : they had had their day : his fingers were 
 stiff and the strings rotten. But having heard 
 that I was fond of music, with that kindly 
 spirit so innate in the Tyrolese, he had plucked 
 up courage, and drawn forth his zither from its 
 long abode — its many years' tomb. 
 
 He endeavoured to play out a few airs, and 
 some of the dances still lurking in his mind 
 since the days of his youth, when he was chief 
 dancer amongst them ; and managed to give an 
 idea of what the instrument in charmed hands 
 
 N
 
 I 78 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 might be capable of producing. Every tune 
 had its story. His stock exhausted, he jumped 
 up, and with a shake of the head at his zither, 
 and a mutter that it was time he and his in- 
 strument were out of the way, he abruptly 
 disappeared. 
 
 Later on, I obtained a better idea of its capa- 
 bilities. I was speaking about it one rnqming 
 to the doctor, and asking his opinion of the 
 instrument. 
 
 "The zither!" he replied: "there is but 
 one thought about it. If you want to be 
 scientific, go to Beethoven : but if you are 
 seeking music to touch the heart and draw 
 tears from the eyes, listen to the zither." 
 
 " Can so simple an instrument do this ? " I 
 asked. 
 
 " Yes ; by virtue of its simplicity. The 
 most simple things come nearest home to us. 
 There is a watchmaker lives in Gastein during 
 the season : to hear him play the zither is a 
 treat to be remembered. I will get him to 
 come in some evening." 
 
 By reason of which, a few nights further on, 
 about eight o'clock, a small ceremonious tap
 
 Uncle}' the Moonbeams. 179 
 
 at the door ushered in the " Zitherman." He 
 bowed profoundly on first appearing, and again 
 in the middle of the room, with an amount of 
 dignity that would have graced a court. He 
 was tall, good-looking, and superior to his 
 station : had a mind well cultivated : had read 
 much, and was evidently of a romantic turn. 
 But it was impossible to determine whether he 
 was perfectly unconscious of self, or very 
 much the opposite. 
 
 Having thoroughly ascertained that he was 
 not intruding, he sat down and placed his 
 instrument before him. Then he began to 
 play ; and with the first notes poor Sebastian's 
 attempt passed out of memory. The doctor 
 had not overrated its heart-touching powers. 
 The melody was exquisite. The clockmaker 
 possessed a good deal of expression : his nature 
 was refined, and he threw it into his playing. 
 That he loved music was evident. His occu- 
 pation, too, had probably caused his fingers to 
 be sensitive and delicate of touch. He played 
 many airs, mingling the grave with the gay; 
 but throughout his face was immovable. It 
 was strangely pleasant to sit and listen to him,
 
 i8o A Month at Gastein. 
 
 and what the doctor called his unscientific per- 
 formance. The Tyrolese airs came out in per- 
 fection, and with this at their command, their 
 universal love for the art is easily interpreted. 
 An hour passed quickly under the magic 
 influence. Then the watchmaker got up, and 
 with two more elaborate bows, departed. 
 Several nights after that, when time permitted, 
 he came in and whiled away the moments with 
 his soft sweet melodies.
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 THE RED FLAG. 
 
 ~j\XOST of the visitors in Gastein are ordered 
 to take nineteen baths ; a few patients 
 here and there taking one or two more or less. 
 This was the number the doctor prescribed for 
 me : and after the seventh and fourteenth, a 
 day's interval. On these two days I drank the 
 waters as they came up warm from the springs, 
 and the doctor was urgent in not allowing them 
 to be touched at any other time. Some people, 
 he said, persisted in taking the baths and 
 drinking the waters together, and so mixed up 
 the treatment that it was impossible to say 
 what did them good and what not. The 
 water was tasteless. Its chief virtue probably 
 lies in the large amount of electricity it con- 
 tains : a property that does not diminish with 
 time. Gastein water may be exported to any 
 part of Europe, and at the end of six or
 
 1 82 A Month at Gastrin. 
 
 twelve months will still retain its healing 
 
 powers. 
 
 The doctor called me into his dampf bad as I 
 
 was passing it one morning, and began experi- 
 ments with the water and an electrical machine. 
 First he brought forward some ordinary water 
 and applied the battery. The needle was 
 motionless. Next he took a bottle of water 
 obtained from one of the well-known Spas of 
 Germany. The needle moved, but slightly. 
 Then he had some water brought in from the 
 adjoining spring, and the needle under its 
 influence moved considerably : proving it to be 
 highly charged. Lastly he took a bottle of 
 Gastein water a year old, and the needle with 
 the old water moved as powerfully as it had 
 done with the new. 
 
 " Thus you see," concluded he, " how emi- 
 nently it is adapted for exportation. Neither 
 time, nor land, nor sea-voyage, deprives it of its 
 properties. Now let me show you my vapour 
 bath." 
 
 We went into another room, where were 
 various ingenious contrivances for the applica- 
 tion of the vapour. Tubes for the mouth and
 
 The Red Flag. 183 
 
 ears ; a peculiar arrangement for the knees and 
 feet ; another where there existed affections of 
 the spine. The vapour rushes up hot and 
 hissing from various apertures, and after a 
 short time I was unable to bear their strength. 
 I left the room with a singing in the ears that 
 for an hour afterwards almost deafened me. 
 
 ''Here," said the doctor, "you get the 
 utmost power of the springs. By this means 
 the properties of the waters are administered 
 to the patient in a condensed form." 
 
 "Are they useful in every kind of com- 
 plaint?" I asked. 
 
 " All those complaints for which Gastein is 
 noted. You already know the catalogue does 
 not embrace every ill flesh is heir to. The 
 waters are only of use to those suffering from 
 affections of the spine, nerves, and head: for 
 this class of maladies there is perhaps no such 
 cure in the world. The vapour baths are also 
 good for affections of the throat. Some of our 
 best singers have come here, and left again 
 with their voices completely restored." 
 
 " A pity Gastein is not more known," I 
 remarked.
 
 184 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 " It will be known well enough one day. 
 Gastein is yet in its infancy ; its fame lies in 
 the future. It has had much to contend 
 against — great difficulty of access to begin 
 with. But railways are approaching : a few 
 years and it will be as celebrated as the other 
 watering-places of Germany." 
 
 " And then it will be no longer Gastein." 
 
 " Ah, my dear sir, we must be philanthropic. 
 The good of mankind demands sacrifices ; fame 
 has its taxes. The waters are inexhaustible ; 
 the springs will bubble up to the end of time. 
 As there is enough for all the world, let all the 
 world come — such, at least, as stand in need 
 of its healing powers." 
 
 " Still it is a hard matter to pay such a price 
 for the inroads of so-called civilization : a fatal 
 consequence, I suppose you will say, of man's 
 first disobedience. He sinned : not the earth, 
 created in beauty and harmony. Where man 
 has not trod, the Almighty reveals himself in 
 all the majesty and marvel of creation. Where 
 man passes, he leaves behind him traces of his 
 fallen nature." 
 
 " Gastein will always, to a great extent,
 
 The Red Flag. 185 
 
 remain what it now is," replied the doctor. 
 " Its main characteristics cannot be altered. 
 Civilization will never remove its mountains, or 
 turn aside the course of that superb waterfall. 
 Contracted and shut in, and as it were, apart 
 from the world, what Gastein now is, that it 
 will pretty well for ever remain." 
 
 "Perhaps so," I said. "Especially as it is 
 certain that you will never possess a railway to 
 the place itself. That beautiful Valley of 
 Gastein, with its wonderful pass, so terribly 
 grand, will never submit to the ravages of steam 
 and iron." 
 
 " I think," said the doctor, turning the 
 subject, " I have never shown you the original 
 source of the waters : where their existence 
 was first discovered. Let us go to it now." 
 
 We went out, and began descending the steep 
 hill which led to the bed of the valley. The 
 waterfall, dashing and winding along, could be 
 seen for a considerable distance, twisting about 
 like a huge serpent. At the very bottom, in a 
 small sheltered nook, within reach of the spray 
 of the torrent, stood a small pool of water, its 
 surface bubbling.
 
 1 86 A Month at Gas tern. 
 
 "Here," said the doctor, " the first spring 
 was discovered. Here the poor stag was 
 found, bathing its wounds. You see the bub- 
 bles rising. No one has ever been able to find 
 out the holes or fissures whence they escape." 
 
 The water felt warm and pleasant. It was 
 very easy to imagine that upon a wound it 
 would have a soothing influence. 
 
 "You are right," said the doctor in answer 
 to the remark. " In such cases Gastein is un- 
 rivalled. For weakness resulting from wounds 
 or loss of blood, it is excellent. You have 
 observed that large pond in front of the 
 wandelbahn — it is for horses. A horse, tired 
 with a long journey, enters it, and comes out 
 again refreshed and ready for more work. But 
 if he goes in too often, and stays in too long, 
 he becomes weak and good for nothing. They 
 are perverse animals. It is difficult to get 
 them into the water; but once in, it is difficult 
 to get them out again. I have often taken a 
 mineral bath after great bodily fatigue, and 
 come out from it active and refreshed." 
 
 " Then you, too, have taken the baths ?" 
 " Indeed, yes. We all do foolish things
 
 The Red Flag. 187 
 
 sometimes in our lives, and this was one of 
 mine. I took them, once, clay after day, day 
 after day, until I "was almost paralyzed. Now 
 I never take them until the season here is over, 
 just before starting for Nice. Active exertion 
 taken in conjunction with the baths would in 
 time kill the strongest man." 
 
 Where we were standing, perhaps more than 
 in any other sj)ot, it was possible to realize the 
 wild beauty of Gastein. The ravine was so 
 contracted that now its sides seemed about to 
 meet and close over. We were at the foot of 
 the great mass of falling water, and could 
 trace its course far above us, a huge body of 
 boiling, surging, down-dashing foam : its spray 
 flying around ; each particle, said the doctor, 
 holding a grain of sand ; its roar so deafening 
 that we had to shout to each other as men 
 shout amidst the crash of machinery. Its 
 rapid but more silent course could be traced, as 
 it sped on to the lower valley. The mountains 
 from this point naturally seemed higher and 
 grander than I had yet seen them. Anything 
 more wild than this aspect of Gastein could 
 scarcely be conceived for a place inhabited and
 
 188 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 civilized. At hand stood a mill, the wheel 
 turned by the water in its course. The miller 
 came out for a moment, took a calm look at 
 us, nodded to the doctor, and disappeared 
 again to his work, bestowing not so much as a 
 glance or thought upon the surrounding beauty 
 which seemed to be drawn in with every breath. 
 Familiarity breeds contempt : things of every 
 day existence men first of all grow accustomed 
 to, and then cease to care for. It would be a 
 different world, perhaps, did this familiarity 
 not blind them to all the beauties of their 
 common lives. 
 
 Above us were the few houses composing the 
 village ; though Gastein so little resembles an 
 ordinary village that the term seems out of 
 place. In front stretched the long wandelbahn, 
 Straubinger's at its extremity rising up as if to 
 defy the waterfall, which washed its sides in 
 its progress. The Straubingers could boast an 
 ancestry. For three centuries and a corre- 
 sponding amount of generations, their fathers 
 had held sway in Gastein : a pedigree to which 
 a great many grand people possessing arms, 
 and crests, and mottoes, and escutcheons, and
 
 The Red Flag. 1 8 9 
 
 family relics, and old plate, and ancient his- 
 tories, cannot lay claim. But they had never 
 aspired to anything heyond the dignity of inn- 
 keepers. All of them had been born in a small 
 cottage; the chief inn until the new grand 
 building rose by degrees, and created a sort of 
 revolution in the place. The old cottage had 
 been pulled down; but Straubinger, clinging 
 with fond memory to the room in which they 
 had first seen daylight, saved it from ruin, and 
 built other rooms about it. 
 
 To the left, perched in the distance, was the 
 Schiller-hohe, the poet's bust standing out, 
 crowned with the dry laurel leaves of Italy. 
 The doctor glanced at his work with satisfac- 
 tion seeming to think it a bright idea on his 
 part. The leaves, brought from the sunny 
 south, he knew not why, had been adapted to 
 the most appropriate of uses. His own villa 
 from this point looked up in the clouds : 
 perched behind the Solitude boarding-house, 
 it seemed to keep watch over it with the eyes 
 of Argus. 
 
 Suddenly as we were looking at the villa, a 
 small red flag appeared at one of the windows,
 
 190 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 and remained flying in the breeze: a signal for 
 the doctor. Amongst other things he had esta- 
 blished this telegraph, as he called it, between 
 his house and the dampfbad, which, at oppo- 
 site extremities of the village, were in view of 
 each other. If the red flag appeared at the 
 window of his consulting room, down posted 
 one of his servants to ascertain what was 
 wanted ; if it appeared at the villa, up went 
 the doctor on the same errand. 
 
 " You know," said he, pointing to the signal, 
 "they cannot always tell where to find me." 
 
 It was impossible not to laugh at the idea 
 suggested. The doctor looked up in surprise. 
 Had he spoken bad English ? 
 
 "Excellent English," I returned. "But 
 your remark brings to mind how difficult it is 
 for any one to lay hands on you. Easier does 
 it seem to catch a will-o'-the-wisp." 
 
 "I have so much to do," he said, as if in 
 apology. " For two moments together I can- 
 not be certain of myself. Take yesterday, for 
 example. Two of your compatriotes were 
 arriving ; two charming ladies ; and I went 
 out to meet them as far as the Cafe Vergiss-
 
 
 The Doctoks Housk.
 
 The Red Flag. 193 
 
 meinnicht. You see I thought a welcome 
 would cheer them up. Would you believe the 
 trouble they gave me !" 
 
 " What trouble ?" I asked, as he paused. 
 
 " This trouble. A fortnight ago they write 
 me word they are coming to Gastein, and I 
 must engage rooms for them. I did so. Four 
 days ago they write me word their plans are 
 altered and they are not coming. So I pay 
 twenty gulden for the rooms and give them up. 
 Yesterday they write me word that they have 
 returned to their former plans and are coming ; 
 will I keep the rooms ? But if it is permitted 
 to ladies to change their minds, it is also 
 permitted to inn-keepers to let their apart- 
 ments." 
 
 " The rooms were gone, I suppose?" 
 
 " As soon as I get this letter from these 
 charming but changeable ladies, I rush off to 
 the Hirsch and find the rooms occupied ; let 
 but an hour before to a Russian countess, who 
 engaged them because they are quiet and she 
 could take the air without being stared at. So 
 yesterday I meet these ladies and say, ' My 
 dear ladies, I am delighted to welcome you 
 

 
 194 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 once more to my beloved Gastein, but your 
 rooms are no more.' Well, we went all over 
 the place, and they could find nothing to their 
 mind. Twenty-five rooms in the Hirsch, but — 
 would you credit it ? — every one sans stuffs." 
 
 " Without what ?" I cried, puzzled. 
 
 " Stuffs, my dear sir ; stuffs ; not one with 
 stuffs, you know." 
 
 "But I don't know," I returned, unable to 
 guess at his meaning. " Twenty-five rooms 
 and all unfurnished ? ' ' 
 
 " No, no," exclaimed the doctor. " Chairs, 
 tables, and beds in abundance, but no stuffs. 
 You see, the ladies not being in good health, 
 are often cold, and require a fire." 
 
 "Oh!" cried I, bursting into laughter, as 
 light dawned. " You mean stoves. The rooms 
 were stoveless." 
 
 " Stoves, then," replied the doctor, repeating 
 the word correctly. " What did I say to make 
 you laugh so ?" 
 
 "Where did you finally leave the ladies?" 
 I asked, passing over his question. 
 
 " At the Solitude. And there they are com- 
 fortably settled. I wonder what is going on
 
 The Red Flag. 195 
 
 at my villa," he added, pointing to the flag 
 that was still flying. " An invasion, per- 
 haps." 
 
 " Some more goats, for instance, and no 
 Don Quixote to frighten them away." 
 
 " I doubt that," he laughed. " But let us 
 go and see. Have you aught to do in par- 
 ticular?" 
 
 " What a question in Gastein ! And from 
 you to a patient. I wish I could say yes ; hut, 
 alas, it is always no." 
 
 " Then we will together find out whether 
 this signal is not much ado about nothing." 
 
 Eeascending the rugged hill-side, we were 
 soon in the road. Past the only shop the 
 place could boast of, for all visible sign of 
 another ; where everything but bread and meat 
 was sold : past the solitary apothecary's, who 
 dispensed his pills and black draughts from the 
 first floor of an old house. He was scarcely 
 ever in, that apothecary. A perpetual placard 
 was suspended from the handle of the door 
 announcing that he was at the Hirsch, where 
 he was in the habit of taking his meals ; so 
 that at last I came to the conclusion that he
 
 196 A Month at Gas tern. 
 
 spent most of bis time in eating and drinking. 
 Yet how thin be was ! A pale, hollow face ; a 
 bushel of light yellow hair that stood on end 
 as if it had once been electrified and never 
 recovered the shock ; clothes that appeared to 
 contain nothing but a pair of broad shoulders 
 and long, lean legs, absolutely repudiating the 
 notion of such a thing as a stomach. His 
 temperament was decidedly phlegmatic ; he 
 worked in a calm, deliberate manner, thinking 
 it best perhaps to be slow and sure ; though he 
 never gave you the idea that he thought of 
 anything : except, perhaps, the Hirsch and its 
 larder. 
 
 Past the pharmacy we journeyed : past 
 Straubinger's, and through the wandelbahn, 
 where we loitered for a moment's chat with 
 the library woman ; out again into the open, 
 and in sight of the villa. The red flag had 
 disappeared. The doctor rubbed his eyes. 
 
 " It certainly was there," cried he. " I 
 don't think it was fancy. You saw it?" 
 
 " Undoubtedly. We both saw it. Marie 
 has perhaps lost patience and taken it in." 
 
 We went on, and no sooner appeared on the
 
 The Red Flag. 1 9 7 
 
 steps than out rushed Marie, her hands raised 
 in dismay. 
 
 "Marie," cried the doctor, "whence this 
 inconsistency. What made you show the signal 
 and then withdraw it ?" 
 
 " Why had she shown the signal? Because 
 the Herr Doctor's dinner was getting cold, and 
 she wondered why he did not arrive to eat it. 
 But when the damage was done and the dinner 
 frozen, she took it in again. He might then 
 come when it pleased him." 
 
 We looked at each other in dismay. No 
 thought of dinner had occurred to either. The 
 table-d'hote hour had long passed. There 
 remained but to make the best of it. The 
 doctor hastened in to his neglected meal, 
 and I went back to Straubinger's at a quicker 
 pace than usual ; determined for once to be 
 thankful for small mercies.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A VILLAGE PROCESSION. 
 
 npHE days went on, and our stay was drawing 
 to a close. I bad originally started for 
 Gastein with the intention of remaining there 
 three months ; but this was found to be not 
 only unnecessary, but sheerly impossible. So 
 long as the baths had to be taken, there was 
 an object in view : and it is a satisfaction to 
 go through with an undertaking : but the baths 
 at an end, I felt that for me Gastein would be 
 at an end also. It has been mentioned that 
 I took nineteen baths ; and the two last were 
 comparative failures. I had had enough ; as 
 much, to quote the doctor, as the system would 
 receive. 
 
 Then I ceased. The doctor advised, nay 
 insisted upon, a week's absolute rest and quiet;
 
 A Village Procession. 199 
 
 when I proposed going away the very next 
 morning, he threatened to put me under lock 
 and key. So rather than bear imprisonment 
 I yielded ; and he shook me vigorously by the 
 hand, and called me a tractable patient. 
 
 " But how do you feel ? " quoth he. "What 
 are your sensations, now the baths have 
 ceased ?" 
 
 " Not at all uncommon," I replied, " as far 
 as I can make them out. I feel very much as 
 I did when I began ; if anything, perhaps a 
 little weaker." 
 
 " So much the better. You will be all the 
 stronger by and by, and will derive permanent 
 benefit from the cure. I am glad you are 
 staying ; to-morrow is a grand day with us." 
 
 " For what reason?" I asked. "Are you 
 going to be married ? ' ' 
 
 " No, no," he cried, laughing. " I am a 
 sincere admirer of the fair sex ; the world 
 without the ladies would indeed be a barbarous 
 and uncivilized state of existence ; but I have 
 no time to prove my devotion by a marriage. 
 My profession is my wife, and I assure you I 
 often find her as much as my two hands can
 
 200 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 manage. Do you mean to say that my faithful 
 but gossiping Marie does not post you up in 
 all the news of the place ? " 
 
 " For once she seems to have failed. I had 
 no idea that to-morrow was more than any other 
 day. What makes it so ?" 
 
 " Well, then — but it is a very small matter 
 after all — to-morrow is our Fete-Dieu ; and it 
 will be celebrated with a grand procession." 
 
 " Is that all ?" cried I. "I have seen pro- 
 cessions without number in the large Eoman 
 Catholic towns of France and Germany, with 
 all the gold and glitter of wealth about them ; 
 and I am heartily tired of the show." 
 
 " Possibly. But processions in your large 
 towns, and processions here in Gastein are 
 very distinct things. To see the pageant 
 winding about the mountains : the girls in 
 white ; the priests in their gay vestments ; the 
 gorgeous banners swaying in the wind ; the 
 glittering etceteras : is an object unusual and 
 picturesque. Should to-morrow prove a fine 
 day, you ought not to miss it." 
 
 The morrow dawned bright and glowing. 
 At ten o'clock a gun was fired from a cliff in
 
 A Village Procession. 201 
 
 one of the rocks, and the sound went echoing 
 through hill and vale. The procession was on 
 the move ; and during the whole ceremony 
 the gun continued to be discharged at in- 
 tervals. 
 
 It was, as the doctor observed, a simple 
 matter, after all ; a quiet show. To one 
 brought up in great Roman Catholic towns, 
 familiar with processions in all their gorgeous 
 pomp and magnificence, the simplicity here 
 seemed a great contrast. But it precisely suited 
 the character of the village; anything more 
 elaborate would have been out of harmony with 
 the scene. As the procession went winding 
 along, now up in the hills, now down in the 
 valley ; standing out conspicuously amidst the 
 green ; girls and women, men and boys, 
 all quietly but artistically dressed ; it could 
 but be admitted that the show possessed a 
 charm beyond the power of wealth and city to 
 bestow. The whole village seemed to take 
 part in the ceremony ; it was a mystery where 
 the inhabitants came from ; and after they had 
 dispersed most of them were no more seen. 
 All who took no other part in the procession
 
 202 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 assisted as spectators ; making the most of the 
 short and simple annals of their existence. 
 The visitors vv'ere most of them new arrivals ; 
 just a few old faces loomed out here and there, 
 with whom I shared the feelings of an ancient 
 inhabitant. 
 
 Last in the procession came the priests, sup- 
 ported by a brass band in the rear : a grand 
 band, its music well sounding. Notes that 
 might have been harsh ; harmony that now 
 and then might have been slightly discordant; 
 time, that in an orchestra might possibly have 
 created some slight confusion ; all was passed 
 over. The hills took up the melody, and the 
 multiplied echoes accounted for everything. 
 The priests themselves were plainly robed ; 
 either not caring for the rich vestments of the 
 Eomish Church, or unable to afford them. 
 Indeed it is difficult to see what purpose they 
 would have served, the minds of the peasantry 
 being far too unsophisticated to be much im- 
 pressed, or influenced, by those outward 
 and visible signs of wealth and pomp which 
 the great world worships. Most of these 
 simple villagers had never been ten miles beyond
 
 A Village Procession. 203 
 
 their birthplace ; never seen anything resem- 
 bling a town ; never had other occupation than 
 tending of cattle, combined with such work as 
 the mountains yield. Rich, gaily dressed visi- 
 tors from the high places of the earth, it is true, 
 frequented Gastein in the season, but the pea- 
 sants, absent in their hills and huts, saw little 
 of them. The visitors, moreover, only ap- 
 peared in certain frequented spots, at given 
 times ; long walks were forbidden : and in fact 
 each clustered together in small colonies and 
 groups, like seeking like. 
 
 With their simplicity, religious feeling and 
 reverence is strongly developed in the Tyrolese : 
 men and women. If by chance I risked my 
 life by venturing upon a drive in one of the 
 little one-horse conveyances : which all looked 
 as if they had come out of Noah's Ark, and had 
 since been undergoing a sentence of perpetual 
 hard labour : the coachman never passed any 
 of the roadside crucifixes without baring his 
 head. I never found one who failed to prove 
 his sense and recognition of religion by this 
 outward token of respect. At a first glance it 
 may be thought a trifling matter, but scarcely
 
 204 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 so when it is remembered that it "was of daily 
 and oft-repeated occurrence. Easy enough to 
 do, perhaps, but easier still to leave undone. 
 To any Englishman, accustomed to meet with 
 very little of this reverence in his own coun- 
 try, it could not pass unobserved. Shut 
 up within themselves ; seldom demonstrative 
 except perhaps where demonstration might as 
 well not be ; many lessons might be taken to 
 heart and mind from these simple, far-off, out- 
 of-the-world mountain folk. 
 
 But the procession is passing out of sight : 
 it is winding back to the church through the 
 path overlooking that wonderful valley: the 
 voices are dying in the air, faint and fainter 
 yet, with a stage-like effect that appeals to the 
 senses ; a few more guns, and the last is fired. 
 The church has swallowed up the show and 
 ceremonial. 
 
 I happened to be close to Straubinger's when 
 two of the maidens returned in their smart 
 clothes. Out rushed some of the women on the 
 watch for them, spread carpets and aprons over 
 the wooden bridge leading to the lower regions, 
 where the artistic cook held reign, and erected
 
 A Village Procession. 205 
 
 an impromptu triumphal arch of brooms and 
 mops and other domestic weapons. The girls 
 were hoisted in amidst blushes and shrieks of 
 laughter : planning, doubtless, in their own 
 minds, speedy and ample revenge, for this 
 mockery of state. 
 
 When all was over the visitors dispersed, not 
 sorry to take refuge from the blazing sunshine. 
 It had been a splendid morning, but no sooner 
 had the procession disappeared than a dark 
 bank of clouds came up from the East and rain 
 began to fall. The shower sent the people like 
 snails into their houses, and in a short time the 
 scene had changed to the table-d'hote. The 
 dinner was neither worse nor better than usual. 
 The chief topic of conversation was the event of 
 the morning : how fortunate it was there had 
 been no rain ; how strange it should have come 
 so soon after ; inquiries as to whether any one 
 had felt any ill-effect from the unwonted expo- 
 sure to the sunbeams, and a unanimous 
 agreement that no one had given the matter a 
 thought. The conversation being so general 
 and interesting, war with the toothpicks was 
 waged less fiercely than usual ; but it was
 
 206 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 delayed, not dismissed ; lor when the company 
 dispersed, the offending quills were carried off 
 in triumph. 
 
 " Well," said the doctor, coming up that 
 afternoon into the harbour, where I was sitting 
 over an old volume of " Bleak House," " what 
 think you of the procession?" 
 
 " Very good," I answered, closing the book, 
 and leaving the unlucky little Jellaby with his 
 head one side the area-railings and his body 
 the other. " Better than we might expect 
 from Gastein." 
 
 " We have our resources on occasion," re- 
 plied the doctor, humorously. " Then you 
 enjoyed it almost as much as those of your fine 
 large towns ?" 
 
 " More so." 
 
 " I told you. There is a simplicity about 
 this which comes home to us. Here you find 
 man more as he was first created; noble, 
 generous, untutored ; in the midst of a beautiful 
 and as yet unspoiled earth." 
 
 " And you think that man and his actions 
 must be in accordance." 
 
 " Undoubtedly. You do not meet with con-
 
 A Village Procession. 207 
 
 tradictions in nature. If a man is good lie 
 will show himself good ; if he is bad, this too 
 will soon become evident. I am glad you were 
 here for the show ; though a small matter, it 
 is as well to see everything." 
 
 " I also am glad. Everything about Gas- 
 tein pleases me. I quite agree with you that 
 the nature of the peasantry is simple and noble. 
 I hope it will remain so." 
 
 " I think it will," replied the doctor. 
 
 " It is not improbable," I returned. " They 
 are, on the one hand, too far removed from the 
 world to be under the influence of civilization 
 and its penalties : on the other hand their little 
 world is of beauty so great that it must 
 continually act upon them for good. I am sorry 
 to leave it all." 
 
 The doctor shook his head. " It is nothing 
 but coming and going, coming and going. This, 
 situated as I am, is one of the great drawbacks 
 of my profession. If I become attached to a pa- 
 tient — it happens now and then — no sooner do 
 I begin to take pleasure in his society, and feel 
 that I am getting to know him, than away he 
 goes, and perhaps I see him no more. What are
 
 2o8 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 those lines of one of your poets ? — ' I never 
 taught a dear gazelle, to' — to — what is the rest ? ' ' 
 
 " Watch me with its coal-black eye, 
 Bat when it came to know me well 
 And love me, it was sure to die — " 
 
 I quoted, ending the verse for him. 
 
 "Hem!" he cried. "My patients don't 
 die, happily for them and me ; but they go 
 away, perhaps for ever. So to me it is like 
 death. You are laughing — think me senti- 
 mental. Is it true Englishmen are so very 
 unromantic ? ' ' 
 
 " I don't know much about it. If they 
 possess the virtue, I fancy they carefully bottle 
 it up out of sight." 
 
 " And do you approve ?" 
 
 " Je n'en sais rien." 
 
 " Do you not like the Germans better than 
 the English?" 
 
 " Can you ask me to bear witness against 
 my own flesh and blood ?" 
 
 " Bear witness to the truth," cried the 
 doctor, firing up theatrically. " I press for an 
 answer." 
 
 " Without making comparisons, I like the
 
 A Village Procession. 209 
 
 Germans much. My experience has been 
 chiefly amongst the Saxons ; I have met with 
 more kindness and hospitality from them than 
 from any other people in the world. But my 
 world is limited." 
 
 " They are a fine race," said the doctor. 
 " Have you seen Schiller's little house near 
 Leipzig ?'" 
 
 " Many a time. And many a time dived 
 into Auerbach's keller, where Goethe placed 
 some of his scenes in Faust." 
 
 " Ah ! ah ! What a man he was ! But to 
 me Schiller's life has always borne a deeper 
 interest. There is so much sadness about it ; 
 so much romance ; and yet so much hard- 
 working reality. I am quite proud of my bust 
 over there at the Schiller-Hohe." 
 
 He took up some glasses on the arbour table 
 and looked across. I could just manage to see 
 the head and laurel wreath. 
 
 1 
 
 "Your eyes are younger than mine," cried 
 the doctor. " There is one thing the baths of 
 Gastein cannot do : when we get old they can- 
 not make us young again. Here as elsewhere 
 the seven stages of man creep on." 
 
 p
 
 210 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 " But are they not longer stages '?" 
 
 " I don't know. Many live to a great 
 age ; many keep young in a marvellous man- 
 ner ; but many also — especially the women — 
 get old all at once. This year they will be 
 still young, vigorous, active ; the next, shri- 
 velled, shrunken, old." 
 
 " Their lives are spent in such hard work," 
 I remarked. "It is healthy, but tells in the 
 end." 
 
 " Ay ! that and the want of good animal 
 food. The rich can only get it from afar ; the 
 poor must do without it altogether." 
 
 " Yet how healthy the peasants look. Hand- 
 some, well made, stalwart." 
 
 " They are so. Their beauty and manliness 
 are hereditary. Healthy they cannot help 
 being. Simple lives such as theirs, passed in 
 the open air, simple occupations, could pro- 
 duce no other result. But when we grow old 
 we require more care and nourishment ; and 
 many for want of it pass quickly into the sere 
 and yellow leaf." 
 
 " Perhaps they are as well without it," I 
 said. " Indulgence of any sort is a creeping
 
 A Village Procession. 2 1 1 
 
 evil. Here it is happily impossible ; and that 
 which is impossible never becomes a necessity. 
 A pity there are not more impossibilities out 
 •in the world." 
 
 " That," returned the doctor, " is truer than 
 many think for. Mankind is becoming degene- 
 rated and ruined by over-indulgence and re- 
 finement. It is a bitter apple that crumbles 
 to ashes in the mouth." 
 
 "You think so?" 
 
 " I am certain. How many men, think you, 
 unconsciously commit suicide in this manner ? 
 What would you say if I told you the greater 
 part ? Yet it is true. What would become of 
 us doctors, if men lived temperate lives ? Such 
 lives as God intended them to lead ? For all 
 the work we should be called upon to perform, 
 the greater portion might retire to a monastery, 
 and end their days in the odour of sanctity." 
 
 " How has man thus fallen ? " 
 
 " How ? Because one thing leads on to 
 another. Because things impossible here are 
 possible in the world. Because man has be- 
 come a slave to himself ; the body has mas- 
 tered him, not he the body."
 
 212 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 " You are drawing a terrible picture," I 
 cried ; " though I fear not altogether an ideal 
 one." 
 
 " I give you leave to brush out all that is 
 untrue," replied the doctor. " The picture 
 will come back to me untouched." 
 
 " Is it not better not to think of these 
 things ? " 
 
 " Yes — as long as we are doing our best. 
 I never allow myself more than a glance at 
 them, and that but seldom. If I were to 
 begin by looking at home, I am overdoing it : 
 by hard, incessant work, which may one day 
 tell upon me. This is self-indulgence in its 
 way; the indulgence of labour." 
 
 "Few men would call hard work self-in- 
 dulgence." 
 
 "It is, though," he returned. " I find my 
 pleasure in my work, just as other men find 
 pleasure in idleness and folly and dissipation." 
 
 " But you must do what comes before you. 
 If a patient sends for you it is not possible to 
 reply that you have done as much work to-day 
 as is good for the body, and will see him to- 
 morrow. He might die in the meantime."
 
 A Village Procession. 213 
 
 • " True," cried the doctor, laughing and con- 
 sulting his watch. " And time, which runs 
 on here just as it does in the great, fast world, 
 reminds me that my afternoon division of 
 labour should have begun long ago. So I 
 bid you farewell, and leave you to solitude, 
 and the quiet contemplation of this lovely 
 
 scene." 
 
 The solitude he spoke of was indeed scarcely 
 possible in the midst of this wild, beautiful 
 country. At this moment I faced the gold 
 mountain upon which the snow was still visible. 
 For two months in the year only — July and 
 August — does it entirely disappear ; and then 
 not always. Occasionally, when the snows 
 had almost melted, dense clouds would envelop 
 the mountains ; rain would fall in abundance ; 
 and when all was again clear and bright, they 
 would stand out once more in their white, 
 wintry garments. 
 
 To-day the snow was all but gone ; only a 
 small patch remained on the gold mountain, 
 looking at this distance not much bigger than a 
 man's hand. Thin streaks of white ran down 
 the slopes, like silver threads, until the hill
 
 2 14 A- Month at G astern. 
 
 intervening between Gastein and Bockstein shut 
 out the sight. 
 
 The contrast was remarkable between the two 
 aspects, Gastein on the one side, Bockstein on 
 the other, the one rude, wild, stormy, the other 
 comparatively calm and quiet : Gastein never 
 silent from the roar of its mighty torrent, of 
 which nothing could be heard when you were 
 turned from it on the road to Bockstein. Here 
 also was moving water, but of a gentle charac- 
 ter, howbeit a gentleness that in ordinary places 
 would have been thought wild and rough. The 
 narrow, shallow river, rushing and leaping over 
 large rocky stones ; now cleaving a field asun- 
 der ; now so near the mountain as to leave 
 room for only a small, rugged, fatiguing path- 
 way ; the noise of the waterbearing the sound 
 of a far-off sea ; its aspect very much that of- 
 angry foam. Involuntarily, the mind recalled 
 the words, more forcible here than amongst 
 the dignified, quiet-flowing rivers and brooks of 
 England : " But I go on for ever — for ever — for ; 
 ever." Absently, perhaps they would be repeated 
 aloud, and the stream seemed to catch up the 
 tones and carry them echoing far away on its
 
 BOCKSTETN.
 
 A Village Procession. 217 
 
 course — " For ever — ever — ever," until, infi- 
 nitely multiplied, the air appeared laden with 
 a soft whispering of the eternal word. 
 
 Surrounded by such influences, it is impos- 
 sible not to feel that there is a mysterious, 
 a mighty power in nature ; coming home to 
 the heart more than all the sermons that ever 
 were written : appealing directly to the soul, 
 and causing strange yearnings after the Infinite 
 and the Perfect. Almost it seems as if the 
 soul had thrown off the chains and attractions 
 and seductions of the world, and stood, as did 
 Adam of old, face to face with the Almighty. 
 The Hand of God is visible amongst the ever- 
 lasting hills, standing as they were in the 
 days they were created ; as they were long 
 ages before you who are gazing at them 
 were born ; as they will be long ages after 
 you will have passed away from the scene. 
 You feel and hear, as if spoken by a still, 
 small voice, your immortality : and thus you 
 are enabled to contemplate with calmness 
 scenes of grandeur and sublimity, that other- 
 wise would almost suspend life. 
 
 To-day, long after the scene has passed out
 
 2i8 A Month at Gastrin. 
 
 of sight, it is strange to think of that stream, 
 still leaping onwards : that just as it was then 
 being looked upon, so others may be looking 
 upon it at this moment ; no stone, perhaps, 
 moved from its bed ; no change in its sound or 
 its murmur. So will it be next year, and the 
 next, and for centuries and ages ; when every 
 one now drawing breath in the world shall 
 have passed over the borders of another, but 
 unseen, and far more awful River : when hands 
 now writing, and hearts now beating with life 
 and love, and voices now delighting us with 
 their soft, sweet tones, shall to this world be 
 hushed and stilled for ever. 
 
 This walk was a favourite with me : taking the 
 road in going, the river side in returning. But 
 the whole way was seldom managed, for it was 
 tiring, and would cause the doctor to look blue 
 and gloomy. There was something attractive 
 even in its solitude, in the rare chance of 
 encountering a human being. But one certain 
 day, a splendid dog crossed my path ; one of 
 the most beautiful animals ever seen ; large 
 and bold, with good-tempered brown eyes. He 
 was closely followed by one of the villagers of
 
 A Village Procession. 219 
 
 Bockstein. On further acquaintance the man 
 seemed willing enough to sell the dog, and 
 assuredly the animal would then and there have 
 changed owners, but that happily I bethought 
 myself in time that probably there would be 
 greater trouble and expense in conveying the 
 dog to England than his master. So off he 
 went, with a lick of the tongue and a wag of 
 the tail, and a sagacious look out of his great 
 brown eyes that seemed to say he knew all 
 about it and appreciated the admiration. As 
 things turned out it would have been no slight 
 undertaking to bring him to England. Before 
 its shores were again reached, war had broken 
 out between France and Prussia, and many a 
 time I was pushed hardly to find room for my- 
 self in the heavily freighted military trains. 
 A dog would certainly have had no chance. 
 
 It was remarkable how, at Gastein, the 
 power of walking deserted me. This is a 
 common experience of the place, though not 
 universal. The shortest stroll would often 
 prove more than enough, the journey back to 
 the villa after dinner, a labour and toil to the 
 poor body. When the last day had dawned,
 
 202 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 and the baths had been some time over, I was 
 fain to confess with reluctance that I felt little 
 better for it all. 
 
 The doctor persisted in declaring it an 
 excellent sign ; slow recovery would be the more 
 sure and permanent : never mind if at times I 
 felt rather worse than ever. It was nature 
 working ; and she must work in her own way. 
 Eventually the result would be satisfactory. 
 
 At present it was anything but that, and 
 therefore I endeavoured to place as much reli- 
 ance as possible in the doctor's comforting 
 assurances. Now and then, as he predicted, 
 there would come gleams and flashes of the old 
 wonted health ; and these, though transient, 
 were enough to kindle into life and animation 
 the slight spark of hope, without which the 
 world would scarce hold on its way.
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 PKOVEItBS. 
 
 fTIHE week's rest, ordered by the doctor, came, 
 like other weeks, to an end ; and with 
 the happiness of going away was mixed the 
 sorrow of leaving. All the visitors who had 
 heen there at the time of our arrival were 
 departed. As the doctor had said a few days 
 back, it was nothing but coming and going, 
 coming and going ; every day brought some 
 change : and therefore he had no resource but 
 to, as the members of a certain religious Body 
 have it, sit loosely to the things of this world. 
 
 In one sense perhaps he did so ; but 
 in ruling and influencing his little world by 
 energy and activity, by being at the beginning 
 and end of everything, and working constantly 
 to promote the happiness and comfort of others, 
 no man could be said to be a more thorough 
 member of this work-a-day existence. 
 
 The day before departure, he came up to me
 
 222 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 with two or three of his photographs, in order, 
 as he pathetically remarked, that it would be 
 impossible to say of him " out of sight, out of 
 mind:" he must not be altogether and com- 
 pletely forgotten. I assured him there was no 
 danger of any such ingratitude arising; but he 
 shook his head, as if he thought human nature 
 was not always to be trusted. 
 
 " I will write you three of my proverbs," 
 said he, "so that when you look at me you 
 shall also hear me speak. You will then have 
 still less excuse for forgetting these Gastein 
 days." 
 
 Taking his largest photograph, he wrote 
 the following sentences upon it; fearing, he said, 
 that with his imperfect knowledge of English 
 he had not made his meaning sufficiently 
 clear. 
 
 1. Misfortune is but good fortune veiled. 
 
 2. Bad qualities that cannot be accounted for are almost 
 always symptoms of severe hidden illness. 
 
 3. Between two equal duties arising at the same time, choose 
 always the less agreeable. 
 
 " There," said he, "you have the result of 
 experience. By constantly bearing in mind 
 the first proverb, I have been able cheerfully
 
 Proverbs. 223 
 
 to submit to sorrow or misfortune ; and I have 
 never found it fail. The second has often pre- 
 vented my quarrelling with people, or taking 
 offence except in very grave matters. If a 
 man is not in a perfectly sound state of mind 
 or body, he is not altogether accountable for 
 his actions. The third speaks for itself." 
 
 " If every one followed your example there 
 certainly would be more harmony abroad." 
 
 " Why should there not be ? Of what use 
 making this short life miserable by taking 
 offence at small things and resenting them ? 
 It brings wrinkles to the brow and makes a 
 man old before his time." 
 
 " If every one were as great a philosopher 
 as vou " 
 
 " Stop," he interrupted, laughing. " No 
 satire, or I shall have to break my rule and 
 take up the gloves against you." 
 
 " But I really mean it," I protested. " Your 
 temperament is to be envied, and so is your life. 
 You are a most happy man." 
 
 " If work makes happiness, I am, doubt- 
 less," he answered. "No man works harder. 
 When the autumn takes away my work here,
 
 224 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 I go and seek it elsewhere ; and find almost 
 as much to do in Nice in winter as in Gastein 
 in summer. But this is the life I like best. 
 It is more my own home." 
 
 " Does Gastein never become unbearable 
 to you ?" 
 
 " Never. If a man has plenty of work to 
 do, and feels himself useful, it will reconcile 
 him to a far worse place than Gastein." 
 
 " It seems as if it would be insupportable to 
 me for so long a time." 
 
 " Because your lines have been placed else- 
 where. The back is fitted to the burden, my 
 dear sir. That is a proverb that will beat mine." 
 
 " I have known, nevertheless, some backs 
 break beneath their burden." 
 
 " Burdens, then, of their own making. If 
 a man allows his destiny to be formed for him 
 as it was originally intended, no trial or 
 calamity will approach him that he cannot 
 bear. But if he wilfully and impatiently takes 
 his destiny into his own hands, as it is allowed 
 to men to do sometimes, he has no right to 
 murmur if things go wrong : then, perhaps, 
 occasionally the back will break."
 
 Proverbs. 225 
 
 " A fearful penalty to pay for a little wilful- 
 ness," I said, "though no doubt a just one. 
 Well for such cases if there were a Sybil to 
 consult, who could for one moment raise the 
 curtain that conceals the future, and give warn- 
 ing of danger." 
 
 " I don't know," returned the doctor so- 
 lemnly. " I often think of that verse in the 
 Bible : ' Neither would they be persuaded 
 though one rose from the dead.' It is as true 
 of men now, as it was of the Jews of old." 
 
 "A melancholy topic for my last day," I 
 cried. " What has drifted us into the mys- 
 teries and motives of human nature? Let us 
 change the subject. Have you any advice to 
 give me in regard to health ? or any counsel 
 as to the route I should travel? You know I 
 want if possible not to go straight back to 
 Salzburg." 
 
 " I do know," said the doctor; "and you 
 are very wise. Never take the same road 
 twice if you can avoid it ; especially in a world 
 as beautiful as our Tyrol. I have already 
 advised you to go to Partenkirchen : it is quiet ; 
 the very place to rest in after the baths." 
 
 Q
 
 226 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 " Too quiet, I fear," I replied in answer to 
 his description : an inn and a house or two 
 besides. " I am weary of these closed-m 
 places, and can bear no more of them. Par- 
 tenkirchen is worse than Gastein, you say." 
 
 " Gastein !" he cried in amazement. " Gas- 
 tein is as Paris or London in comparison. But 
 the inn at Partenkirchen is very good and 
 everything extremely comfortable. The land- 
 lady, too, is eccentric ; a perfect study of cha- 
 racter : a woman who will keep only such 
 visitors as she fancies. If she likes you, she 
 will go through fire and water for you ; let you 
 turn her place upside down ; dine at midnight 
 if it pleases you : but if she happens on the 
 other hand to feel her sympathies untouched, 
 away you must go: she will make the place 
 too hot to be borne." 
 
 " I should not care to encounter this eccentric 
 landlady," said I. "There is no knowing 
 what my reception might be." 
 
 " With a note from me," returned the 
 doctor, " she would fete you. But she is 
 undoubtedly peculiar. Once a whole family 
 arrived, nine or ten in number ; and by some
 
 Proverbs. 227 
 
 means did not contrive to please her. The 
 next morning she sent up word that if they 
 would go at once they should have nothing 
 to pay." 
 
 "And they went ?" 
 
 " Indeed they did. The message was too 
 startling to admit of any parleying ; if they 
 stayed, peace was at an end ; so, wisely, they 
 packed up and departed. On the other hand, 
 I once sent her two gentlemen ; patients of 
 mine : the one was a general in the army, the 
 other, I think, an idle man : they had nothing 
 to do with their time but to travel about toge- 
 ther and enjoy life. They went there with the 
 intention of staying a week ; but the cooking 
 was so good, and the landlady looked so well 
 after their comforts, that they remained three 
 months." 
 
 "It is not altogether surprising, doctor. 
 I have learned here that good cooking, if not 
 essential to health, is not unnecessary to com- 
 fort." 
 
 " True, true," returned the doctor. " And 
 after the shortcomings of Gastein in this 
 department, the excellences of the eccentric
 
 228 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 landlady's cuisine would be appreciated, if not 
 abused. Keaction, you know, is a great power. 
 Will this, thrown into the balance, induce you to 
 try Partenkirchen ?" 
 
 " No," with a very decided shake of the 
 head. " I don't particularly care for the boaufs 
 gras : but after this place, I might do so, if 
 much tempted. I have grown tired of this 
 monotonous, out-of-the-world life, and can't 
 begin it afresh in a strange place : that, too, a 
 place more lonesome, more shut out than Gas- 
 tein. We will dismiss Partenkirchen. What 
 next have you to propose ?" 
 
 " Next and lastly," said the doctor, " if you 
 are resolved to resist the attractions of Par- 
 tenkirchen and its landlady, I would advise 
 you to return as far as Golling ; then branch 
 off on the road to Gosau, and acquaint yourself 
 with the beautiful lake scenery of the Salz- 
 kammergut." 
 
 This sounded a far more likely proposal 
 than the last one. I had heard so much of 
 the beauties of the Salzkammergut ; of Ischl, 
 and Hallstadt, and the lakes ; that I resolved 
 at once to adopt the suggestion. But it was a
 
 Proverbs. 229 
 
 road seldom travelled by any one ; most people 
 on leaving Gastein returned as they eame ; and 
 it was doubtful if a coachman could be found 
 willing to undertake the journey. 
 
 "But, remember," said the doctor, "you 
 must have rest of body and mind. I must 
 extract from you a solemn promise that for 
 three months there shall be no long walks, no 
 mountain expeditions. Without that under- 
 standing you do not quit Gastein." 
 
 The great Gamskarkogl mountain was before 
 us, with the hundred glaciers to repay the 
 climber for his pains. I could not refrain from 
 imploring, chiefly out of malice, for this one 
 exception to the rule. 
 
 " Not whilst I have breath in my body," 
 cried the doctor in a transport of rage. 
 " When you have left me, if you choose de- 
 liberately to kill yourself in this manner, I 
 cannot prevent it, but so long as you are here, 
 and I am here " 
 
 He stopped, shook his head in a very terrible 
 manner, and then laughed. 
 
 " I believe you are only trying to rouse my 
 just ire," said he. " And so I will be off. I
 
 230 A Month at G astern. 
 
 will try and find an honest coachman for you 
 to-morrow — since you needs will depart." 
 
 There was no lack of coachmen ready to 
 seize upon the occasion : but some had never 
 been that way in their lives and might in con- 
 sequence go wrong : others demanded an ex- 
 orbitant charge, and the doctor was the last 
 man to submit to imposition. At length one 
 turned up answering to all requirements : a 
 young man, active, strong, intelligent, and, as 
 events proved, a skilful, civil driver. 
 
 " I am really grieved to make the bargain," 
 said the doctor, when the contract was signed 
 and sealed. " Up to this very day, I have 
 thought you would stay amongst us another 
 fortnight. The rest, if not absolutely neces- 
 sary, would have done you good." 
 
 "It is impossible," I replied. "I have 
 written to stop all letters and papers; and to 
 change my mind would now require an effort of 
 moral courage of which I am not capable. The 
 baths have been over .some time ; there is no 
 just cause or necessity for remaining ; and the 
 air of the place, though so pure that it seems 
 to belong to another world, does not suit me."
 
 Proverbs. 231 
 
 "It appears not to suit you," corrected the 
 doctor. " That it does not suit you actually, 
 remains to be proved." 
 
 " The air is relaxing," I continued, "though 
 not so depressing as the relaxing air of an 
 English climate. I am weary of being shut 
 in by these mountains. My sight feels like to 
 a caged bird, beating its life out against the 
 bars of a prison : it longs for a flight which 
 is here impossible. At times I feel almost 
 suffocated, as if the mountains were falling 
 upon me and the valley closing in." 
 
 " I suppose I must give up," returned the 
 doctor. " And indeed, now that you have 
 decided to visit the Salzkammergut I am 
 inclined to let you go. Perhaps you will stay 
 some time in Hallstadt, which is certainly 
 quiet as it is beautiful." 
 
 That last night in Gastein was bright and 
 starlit, and I went forth, when the place had 
 sunk to repose, to reconnoitre the old spots in 
 which I had lingered often, and bid them fare- 
 well. I stood on the Bridge of Terror, and 
 looked over into the rushing waterfall, its 
 seething foam standing out in the darkness
 
 232 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 like a wild restless phantom ; its thunder-roar 
 almost a pleasant sound to-night, as I felt for 
 me how soon it would be at an end. I strolled 
 into the hills, and took a last look at Schiller's 
 bust, looking in the weird, uncertain light, like 
 the head of the poet charmed into a sleep of a 
 hundred years. As a voice from the dead 
 came the well-known words : 
 
 " Can storied urn or animated bust 
 
 Back to its mans-ion call the fleeting breath ? 
 Can honour's voice provoke the silent dufet, 
 
 Or flatt'ry soothe the dull cold ear of death ?" 
 
 Poor Schiller ! he might rest quietly in his 
 grave after his earthly storms and troubles. 
 No bust would he care to kindle into life with 
 his spirit. Honour's voice had fallen upon 
 him ; fame enduring as time itself : but it 
 could not recall from the unseen world the 
 great soul that only shook off suffering with 
 mortality. At this moment the calmness and 
 silence of death made itself felt ; it seemed 
 stamped on the surrounding scene ; it brought 
 out the shortness of man's life : a mere breath in 
 comparison with the old mountains ; themselves, 
 like the ocean, almost a type of eternity : a life 
 so short, yet so long and momentous for good
 
 Proverbs. 233 
 
 or evil ; necessitating quick action before the 
 hour comes when the silver cord is loosed ; 
 when work, and responsibility, and time, and 
 chance, and change, and pleasure, and pain are 
 laid aside, and the body returns to its earth, 
 and the spirit to God who gave it. 
 
 For the last time, when I got back to my 
 rooms, I took a long look out on the scene. It 
 was stamped on the memory now, but had lost 
 nothing by familiarity. Other than awful and 
 solemn its wild grandeur and beauty could 
 never be. It stood out a glorious bit of nature, 
 matchless of its kind ; subdued in the bright, 
 starry night but not concealed : the dark firs 
 on the mountains silent and motionless, as if 
 guarding the corpse of one dearly beloved : a 
 solemn, awesome procession. 
 
 Farewell, old scene. Turn in, and close the 
 door, and light the lamp, and draw the curtain, 
 and let days and months and years pass ; but 
 you will never be forgotten. Unfaded, as you, 
 yourself, unfading. 
 
 The next morning rose bright and sunny. 
 A cloudless sky ; no sign of change ; happily 
 for any who were on the move, for in an open
 
 234 <d Month at Gas tein. 
 
 carriage, rain would have been as unwelcome 
 as snow in harvest. Amidst such scenery it 
 was impossible to travel shut-up. 
 
 Packing was soon accomplished, and at seven 
 o'clock up came Marie with breakfast, and a 
 face as long as that of a condemned criminal. 
 Poor Marie ! It almost seemed as if I had 
 made some impression upon her tender heart, 
 for as soon as I expressed sorrow at leaving, 
 which in these last moments was unfeigned, 
 she began to cry, and hastily putting down her 
 tray, darted from the room to give private vent 
 to her emotions. 
 
 She returned after a while, looking a middle- 
 aged representation of April, at once all smiles 
 and tears. Then up followed the doctor in her 
 wake, wondering if he could be of any use, 
 begging and imploring that I would change 
 my mind at the last moment, dismiss the 
 coachman, and stay on another fortnight. He 
 was all kindness and regret — for of course he 
 could not prevail when matters had gone 
 so far : full of counsel for the journey ; 
 advice as to what ought to be done, and 
 what avoided ; what might be seen without
 
 Proverbs. 235 
 
 fatigue, and what on that score was forbidden 
 fruit. 
 
 " No mountains," reiterated he at the last ; 
 " no long walks ; no picture galleries : the 
 latter are worst of all ; fatiguing to the body, 
 but horribly so to the mind. At the end of 
 three months, you may do all you will : go 
 out into the world ; see pictures, climb moun- 
 tains, or explore the wilds of Africa." 
 
 "Your caution is hardly needed," I said. 
 " To tell you the truth, mountain-climbing is 
 a mania by which I never was greatly bitten ; 
 I am not philanthropist enough to explore un- 
 known regions, and perhaps sacrifice my own 
 life for no one's good. As for picture galleries, 
 I can make no rash promises about them. You 
 are trying me too much." 
 
 " No promises ! " cried he, with a glare. 
 " Then I will make you swear — take a vow. 
 Swear that " 
 
 But before he could proceed further, Marie's 
 voice — she had again left the room — was 
 heard below shrilly summoning the Herr 
 Doctor to settle some doubtless important 
 matter ; and when he returned to the room
 
 236 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 he bad forgotten all about tbe vow to be 
 taken. 
 
 Just before leaving, Marie came up with a 
 large bouquet — she had sadly ravished the 
 poor doctor's garden — which she presented to 
 me with a grace and bearing that would have 
 adorned a stage. But her emotion was real. 
 Her tears were falling, and whilst on the one 
 hand she chided herself for her folly, she 
 renewed her sobs on the other. 
 
 " Surely the Herr would return next year. 
 He would not be so cruel as never to come 
 and see them again." 
 
 " Of course he will return," cried the doc- 
 tor. " Marie, don't have such ridiculous 
 doubts. My dear sir" — turning to me — 
 " you must come back to us next May for the 
 baths, and to complete your cure." 
 
 I shook my head in doubt : a doubt verified 
 with time. The next May came and went : 
 but there was no kind doctor at hand to re- 
 commend a second visit: and Gastein was 
 neglected. 
 
 " We cannot always do as we like," I said. 
 " Inclination often points one way, destiny
 
 Proverbs. 237 
 
 and duty another. I may come to you 
 again some day, but I fear it will not be next 
 year." 
 
 . We were all sorry to part, I think, for we 
 had harmonized together : no interregnums of 
 unpleasantness ; no jarrings and discords : a 
 very quiet, but a very even tenour had 
 been preserved : and it is something to be 
 able to say this even of a month in one's 
 life. 
 
 At eight o'clock to the moment the carriage 
 drew up ; signal for departure. The luggage 
 was stowed away : a last goodbye given to the 
 rooms : a wonder whose home they would next 
 become: a final look out around from the old 
 balcony : down the stairs for the last time and 
 out at the door, and down the steps : and then 
 ready for action. 
 
 Of course they all came forth to see the last 
 of us. A cavalcade headed by the doctor, 
 Marie behind him; and then Sebastian and 
 the remainder of the household. Even the 
 goats stretched out their necks as far as 
 they could from the field adjoining the 
 garden, wondering doubtless what the un-
 
 238 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 wonted excitement at that early hour could 
 mean. 
 
 At last we were off ; and looked after one 
 another; and waved and watched and watched 
 and waved ; until a cruel turn of the road broke 
 the last link of parting.
 
 CHAPTEK XV. 
 
 A THUNDER STORM. 
 
 |"T must be confessed that I felt somewhat 
 of melancholy regret at leaving. I turned 
 and stood upright in the carriage, and as we 
 journeyed on, watched the place slowly fading 
 in the distance. The gradual dying away of 
 the roar of the waterfall, whose long, foaming 
 line might be traced when all sound had ceased : 
 object after object nickering out, one of the 
 last if not the least, Straubinger's itself dis- 
 appearing. My sensations were very different 
 from those of four weeks since. Then all was 
 strange and unknown ; much had been antici- 
 pated, and intense disappointment had arisen 
 in the first instance ; in search of health and 
 air, both had seemed about to prove delusive ; 
 and although these early anticipations had not 
 been fully realized ; although the robust health 
 hoped for was still absent — though on its way, 
 according to the doctor ; yet something had
 
 240 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 certainly been accomplished. The baths had 
 been taken ; the beauties of the place had be- 
 come familiar and loved : a picture as unfading 
 to the imagination as if it stood out in life and 
 reality on canvas to the eye ; acquaintances if 
 not friends had been made — friends who had 
 certainly proved themselves friendly: hearts 
 that beat with kindness, and steps that lingered 
 not to serve, and voices tuned to the key of 
 sympathy, Even music had had its appointed 
 place, and the soft tones of the zither had once 
 more attested to the power of melody over the 
 soul of man — that art the most beautiful as it 
 is the most Divine ; one of the chains at least 
 linking earth with heaven ; stretching as per- 
 fectly from one to the other as did Jacob's lad- 
 der ; each link possessing as much the beauty 
 and influence of an angel, as did the angels of 
 his dream. St. Cecilia herself could not long for 
 more power than she possesses ; or that the 
 angel she drew down should have had a more 
 abiding resting-place. Music had had its part, 
 simple but full sweet : the mighty roar of the 
 waterfall had done its best and its worst ; the 
 bad dinners had been eat3n and survived, and
 
 A TJi under Storm. 241 
 
 seemed to have done no great amount of da- 
 mage : and a quiet month had testified to the 
 fact that man's wants here are few and may be 
 easily satisfied, and that excitement is by no 
 means necessary to life. 
 
 But as the minutes and half-hours flew by, 
 the magnificent scenery through which we were 
 passing ; the feeling of motion, though the 
 pace was steady ; of being once more an active 
 member of mankind ; softened some of the re- 
 grets at leaving Gastein. It was perhaps a 
 little ungrateful, but there it was, and it must 
 be recorded. The villages of Hof and Dorf 
 Gastein were in turn left behind ; the wonderful 
 Pass at the commencement of the long valley 
 was entered, awaking all the emotions of a first 
 acquaintance : the steep descent was com- 
 menced, and in time Leng was reached. 
 
 I had promised Marie to keep her bouquet 
 under a glass shade ; but alas when we had 
 journeyed some distance, it was found that by 
 some mistake I had been sitting upon the 
 flowers. So with a good wish to their donor, 
 away they went into the rushing Salza. And 
 there, perchance, they are yet lying, safely em- 
 
 11
 
 242 A Month at G astern. 
 
 bedded beneath some huge stone ; the testimony 
 of a humble but kind and good heart. 
 
 We first halted at Leng on the return jour- 
 ney, where a second breakfast filled up gaps in 
 time and constitution, and Johann, the coach- 
 man, thought dinner would not come amiss to 
 him. Whilst the horses baited and rested, I 
 .strolled out, and renewed acquaintance with the 
 waterfall. Infinitely smaller than that of Gas- 
 tein it is thought by many to be of greater 
 beauty. In situation it is most romantic, and 
 empties itself immediately into the Salza, form- 
 ing one of the many tributaries required to 
 keep up the hungry demands of the torrent river. 
 To stand on the river bridge, and look up and 
 down upon the stream was almost enough to 
 make a strong head reel. A shallow stream 
 enough, its bed filled with great stones and bits 
 of rock, some just covered and raising hillocks 
 in the water ; others standing out proudly, 
 as if they would stay or turn the on-flowing 
 current : most of them worn smooth and slip- 
 pery by the constant friction. Its force is tre- 
 mendous : its noise like the noise of a restless 
 sea upon the shore : you marvel whence comes
 
 A Thunder Storm. 243 
 
 the unfailing supply, especially when recalling 
 the number of miles over which, with exhaust- 
 less energy, it pursues its course ; now widen- 
 ing, now contracting, hut ever shallow, ever 
 swift. When an unusual quantity of snow is 
 thrown into it from the mountains — at that 
 period of the year when the snows are melting 
 — the colour becomes a dull, brownish grey, 
 that takes from the purity of its white foam. 
 As the world knows, this land is not so much 
 the region of eternal snows as Switzerland ; its 
 scenery is on a smaller scale ; its mountains 
 are less cloud-reaching : but its beauty and 
 romance, its wildness, its effect upon the heart 
 and soul, the life of man, cannot be exaggerated 
 or outrivalled. So the snows, instead of re- 
 maining for ever, cold and proud upon the 
 mountains, dissolve in kindly feelings towards 
 the earth, and transform themselves as by 
 magic into water ; swelling and feeding this 
 beautiful stream, until, reaching their final 
 home in the mighty ocean, they yield up theii 
 existence into that of a power still greater than 
 theirs. 
 
 As I stood on the bridge I threw a long
 
 244 A Month at Gastrin. 
 
 branch into the current, and felt that I should 
 have been sorry enough to whirl along on its 
 surface at the rate with which it disappeared. 
 Now sweeping on; now stopped in mid-career 
 by rock or stone ; now hurled on again by the 
 force of the stream, hurrying, hurrying as if 
 loosened to freedom after ages of captivity. 
 Where would the swift chase end? 
 
 After a time — it seemed a long pause, and 
 Johann and the horses must have been verj' 
 great eaters or very slow ones — we started off 
 again. A great part of the day was before us, 
 but so also was a long journey, and Johann 
 whipped up his cattle as if he had a mind to 
 rival in speed the stream beside which we were 
 travelling. Presently St. Johann was reached. 
 Johann had evidently a strong affection for the 
 village whose name he bore — though if consci- 
 entious he would probably have hesitated to 
 assume the saintly prefix — and for the pretty 
 maid who ran out of the inn, as we passed 
 quickly its sign flying in the wind : a surprised 
 look in her eyes, a pout on her cherry lips, as 
 she wondered why he had not halted a moment 
 to give her the accustomed greeting. But it
 
 A Thunder Storm. 245 
 
 would never do to lose so much time on the 
 road ; and in spite of Johann's sidelong glance 
 and melancholy sigh, he knew that he must 
 press on towards Werfen. One village succeeded 
 another, until in the afternoon Werfen was 
 entered and another rest earned. 
 
 Here, in this second halt, we dined ; well 
 and reasonably. The landlady, whose fat sides 
 alone were sufficient recommendation for the 
 resources of her larder, brought in soup and a 
 boiled chicken, finishing up with pastry peculiar 
 to the place. By way of dessert, she placed on 
 the table a large dish of wild strawberries, of 
 which, without experience, the delicate and 
 delicious flavour cannot be imagined. 
 
 Before leaving the village I strolled once 
 more into the churchyard, with its small quiet 
 graves : into the church, where at the first visit 
 the organ was sounding and the villagers were 
 assembled at their morning devotion. Now it 
 was silent and deserted ; all were away fulfilling 
 their daily tasks ; the priest perchance was 
 composing his next Sunday's discourse ; or 
 stealing a nap after a comfortable dinner. 
 
 Suddenly, in a moment as it seemed, a great
 
 246 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 bank of clouds came up from behind the 
 mountains, and spread over the sky. The heat 
 of the day had been tropical ; the clouds 
 brought with them a feeling of closeness and 
 suffocation still less endurable : rain began to 
 fall ; large drops here and there, ending in a 
 perfect torrent. Then came a flash of light- 
 ning, followed instantaneously by a peal of 
 thunder that went crashing amidst the hills, 
 and rolling and echoing adown the valley. 
 
 What a grand sight and sound, this storm, 
 amidst the wild surrounding scenery; for Werfen 
 is one of the wildest spots on the road. The 
 lightning was vivid and incessant ; the thunder 
 loud and continuous; a crash and battle of the 
 elements that now in fury seemed to vie with 
 each other. The thunder rolled down the valley 
 with a voice like to millions of war chariots in 
 pursuit: one mountain nook after another 
 caught up the terrible echo until the air was 
 full of the sound of Nature's great diapason. 
 The castle in which the Protestants had been so 
 mercilessly persecuted: whence, after the most 
 revolting tortures, their remains were thrown 
 down the rocky precipice until they plashed
 
 life 
 

 
 A Thiindc}' Storm. 249 
 
 with a dull thud into the rushing stream 
 at its foot: stood out, high and conspicuous 
 upon its stronghold, as if offering resistance 
 to an avenging and Almighty Power. Many 
 a time, in those bygone days, the monks 
 must have quailed before these signs of 
 Divine wrath; hiding their faces and perhaps 
 repeating Paternosters in their conscience- 
 stricken terror; until the fury of the elements 
 had passed away, and Nature, like the face of a 
 pacified child, once more smiled through her 
 tears. Many a pine-tree, struck down and 
 blasted in its strength, must have read them a 
 warning; if they would but have looked and 
 listened. But there the castle stands to-day, 
 precisely as it stood in centuries ago; not a stone 
 loosened from its place ; not a loophole blocked 
 up ; a memento of dark ages and darker deeds ; 
 a record of past error, and cruelty, and super- 
 stition; a witness of present glory, and peace, 
 and beauty. 
 
 Persecutors and persecuted have long passed 
 away : superstition has yielded to the power of 
 intellect and civilization ; to the triumph of 
 truth and the good cause : life and light have
 
 250 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 won their way through fields of blood ; through 
 fire and water; through life and death; through 
 such human suffering and endurance as cannot 
 be told ; having overcome and trampled under 
 foot all enemies. The struggle and battle 
 have cost unnumbered lives, each one of which 
 would tell perhaps of an unseen, unrecorded 
 martyrdom : but unrecorded only until that 
 day when they shall wake once more to their 
 reward, the resurrection of life and immortality. 
 All have passed away: footsteps that echoed 
 in these corridors of time echo no more ; they 
 are laid aside with the heads that plotted, and 
 the hearts that suffered, and the hands that 
 worked for good or evil : but there stands the 
 castle, and there perhaps it will remain to the 
 very end. To-day, amidst the black clouds, 
 and the dark pines, and the frowning moun- 
 tains, it was lighted up with a vividness no 
 earthly power could yield. Almost it seemed 
 to sway and tremble in its fierce contest with 
 the storm, though this could have been but 
 imagination ; in reality its seat upon the rock 
 is as firm and proud as in the days of its 
 youth : its battlements vigorous in their hoary
 
 A ThundcrStorm. 251 
 
 age. It stood up in the valley, between the 
 mountains, insensibly bringing to mind that 
 verse of the Old Testament where Moses 
 " stood between the dead and the living." All 
 that was here, it is true, was a dead past ; the 
 present, everything before me, was living ; a 
 life full of vigour and heart-throbbing ; no 
 sign of death or decay save in the little church- 
 yard on the right, with its small graves and 
 crosses, bearing names of old and young alike, 
 its dates of long since or of yesterday. It 
 stood proudly challenging the mountains, not 
 dwarfed by contrast with their great height. The 
 path to the castle was steep and rugged, yet but 
 for the storm I would have climbed it, and 
 gone through the rooms : the scenes of thoughts 
 and actions before which we need veil our 
 faces, and close our ears, and hide away our 
 sympathies. 
 
 With your back turned to the village, the 
 castle was the only sign of human life and 
 labour visible around : a vast monument of 
 man's skill and greatness, and yet how small 
 and puny when thus compared with the moun- 
 tains. It frowne.l upon you, as if feeling that
 
 252 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 after all you bad the best of it, and could build 
 up and, pull down at will ; whilst the moun- 
 tains in calm, secure pride, shot forth their 
 heads heavenwards : and the river — that had 
 been steeped with the blood of mart} T rs, and 
 carried far on its bosom the groans of the 
 racked and the death-rattle of the dying — 
 mingling in a long farewell the wail of hus- 
 band, brother, lover — now, unmolested, un- 
 burdened, pursued the current of its stream. 
 
 The storm at length cleared ; the last flash 
 had shot forth ; the last echo departed ; the 
 clouds broke up and rolled away as a scroll 
 rolls away from before a flame, and once more 
 the sun had free play. Time was passing and 
 becoming precious ; a considerable distance 
 still had to be travelled, and it was a matter 
 of some importance, amidst rough roads* and 
 steep precipices to come to a final anchor ere 
 the perils of darkness and the night had set 
 in. So,. quickly, the horses were brought round 
 and harnessed (laugh not at the harness !), and 
 we were soon again on the road. The greatest 
 heat of the day was passed ; the storm, also, 
 for the moment had cooled the air ; the luxury
 
 A Thunder Storm. 253 
 
 of lying back in the carriage after dinner — 
 which though simple might have satisfied an 
 epicure — without bodily effort and exertion, 
 was inexpressibly delightful. Under the in- 
 fluence the mountains seemed to wrap them- 
 selves round you in loving arms : the gurgling 
 of the river lulled you into a sense of outward 
 forgetfulness : a rushing, frothy, monotonous 
 sound broken now and then by a dull thud, 
 as a log of wood came into violent contact with 
 a stone. In this manner is the rapid stream 
 utilized, and labour economized in a land where 
 economy is essential to its well-being. The 
 trees cut down and sawn into logs, are thrown 
 into the water, and left to find their way in 
 solitude through many and many a long mile 
 from their starting point. 
 
 The afternoon wore on in a delicious dream ; 
 the senses thoroughly alive, the body only 
 inactive. Evening grew apace ; the sun had 
 long sunk behind the mountains, and thrown 
 out shadows, and cast depths and darkness 
 amidst the pines ; the steep pass, that had 
 required the strength of three horses in com- 
 ing, was descended ; and about seven o'clock
 
 254 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 was entered once more the quaint village of 
 Golling. 
 
 Quaint and stiff as ever it seemed to-night ; 
 quaint and beautiful. Here, too, there had 
 lately been a procession, and against most of 
 the houses were ranged trees and great 
 branches, propped up like dummies at a show; 
 giving the place a holiday and festive look 
 comically at variance with its quaker-like 
 angularity. As the carriage rattled down, I 
 caught sight of the blacksmith's boy, who had 
 accompanied us to the waterfall. He gave a 
 glad nod of recognition ; perhaps on the look 
 out for another apple, or another keepsake that, 
 like the sovereign the Vicar of Wakefield gave 
 his daughters, was on no account to be changed; 
 but either his modesty got the better of him, 
 or he was called away by his master, for he 
 did not turn up again. 
 
 Whilst tea was preparing, as before, I strolled 
 out to stretch my legs and take another look 
 at the place in the first flush of gloaming. As 
 I did so, the vesper bell rang out for prayers. 
 Immediately, all ceased their occupations, and 
 remained stationary, some falling upon their
 
 A Thunder Storm. 255 
 
 knees, others standing with reverence. For a 
 few moments the whole village, whether in- 
 doors or out, in church or away from it, was 
 thus engaged in the solemn act of a general 
 prayer and thanksgiving. Who could be un- 
 impressed with the sight ? or fail to recognize 
 and appreciate the simple nature of these 
 unworldly people ? 
 
 Another noisy, sleepless night, which here 
 seems, just as much as the day, to have its 
 stated work for every hour. Again the watch- 
 man went by at regular intervals, singing and 
 proclaiming in a voice more doleful than ever ; 
 again the dogs barked their protest. At two 
 o'clock up came the diligence from Gastein, 
 with one inside passenger, too sleepy and com- 
 fortable apparently to turn out into the chilly 
 night. The guard rang the bell, and the old 
 clang awoke the old echoes through the build- 
 ing ; the horses were changed, greetings 
 passed, doors banged, whips cracked furiously; 
 and away they dashed once more, full gallop for 
 Salzburg. 
 
 At half-past six we were to start off again 
 towards Gosau, and long before the appointed
 
 256 A Month at Gastrin. 
 
 hour I was up and dressed, ready for breakfast 
 and the road. It was a bright morning. The 
 sun had risen splendidly, bathing the hills and 
 ndscape in a flood of rosy light ; but when 
 we first set out, as before, the air was cold and 
 raw, and rugs and wrappers were a stern 
 necessity. 
 
 From this point the journey was opening 
 up fresh ground, and from the doctor's descrip- 
 tion I was prepared for grand scenery. Grand 
 and sublime it was, indeed and in truth, for 
 many hours. From six in the morning until 
 about seven in the evening we passed through 
 a succession of panoramic views, of which no 
 real representation could give the faintest idea. 
 Up steep hills, and down hills yet steeper ; by 
 chain after chain of towering mountains ; 
 winding through narrow roads where now sud- 
 denly the heights seemed to be closing in upon 
 you, and now as suddenly to open out and 
 recede, so that with the quickness of magic the 
 splendour and wild beauty of some hidden pass 
 would burst upon the eye : now journeying side 
 by side with the fast-flowing stream ; now 
 crossing it on rustic bridges formed of rough
 
 A Thunder Storm. 257 
 
 logs of wood rudely thrown over a few rafters ; 
 so unsteady and apparently so unsafe that 
 instinctively you sprang up ready for a jump 
 if the vehicle overturned. Now losing the 
 stream altogether from sight, yet by the flow- 
 ing sound knowing it to be not far off. Now 
 descending a long hill, so steep that it was 
 almost as bad as scaling the side of a house ; 
 a hill like a winding staircase, in which, as 
 the carriage turned and turned, it seemed mo- 
 mentarily about to pitch you over into the 
 yawning precipice. To timid minds it would 
 have been in the last degree terrifying ; to 
 others of a bolder type the very danger and ex- 
 citement carried a charm. But, for the sake 
 of the poor horses, and the drags, and the 
 vehicle, it was a good thing over. The roads 
 in some parts were enough to break up any 
 ordinary carriage ; reminding one of the roads 
 in the wilder and more uncivilized regions of 
 Scotland : though the latter have infinitely the 
 advantage of the comparison. 
 
 The first halt was made at St. Johann — a 
 very different place from the St. Johann on 
 the road to Gastein : more English in appear- 
 
 s
 
 258 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 ance than any village yet encountered. Here 
 we breakfasted, and whilst the horses rested, 
 inspected the church. It jjvas more peculiar 
 than most of its kind in the Tyrol. On the 
 Dutside were several representations in relief 
 from the Bible, a custom prevalent in some 
 parts : an ugly, unsightly custom, from the 
 hideous manner in which the scenes are exe- 
 cuted. But the strangest sight was a small 
 building to the left of the church for funerals, 
 and the decorations upon the walls. Cross- 
 bones and other mournful and death-reminding 
 objects met the eye ; and in a small, square 
 box of glass, was the skull of a woman : her 
 age, name, and date of death, her exemplary 
 life, her numerous virtues, and a career spent in 
 doing good to the village, duly recorded in the 
 inscription. 
 
 After St. Johann, no especial halt was made. 
 One long, steep ascent lasting about two hours, 
 necessitated four horses, and even then, at 
 times, way was made with the greatest possible 
 difficulty. Indeed the troubles of the road 
 are so formidable that carriages seldom at- 
 tempt the journey. But few, it is to be
 
 A Thunder Storm* 259 
 
 imagined, can tell what they lose by passing 
 it by, and pursuing the straight road on to 
 Salzburg. It was one long drive of over- 
 whelming impressions ; each fresh turn bring- 
 ing out some new feature in the landscape, 
 grander and more sublime, as it seemed, than 
 the last. In places the mountains were wild 
 and rugged ; here and there huge overhanging 
 fragments had fallen from the surface, reveal- 
 ing beneath a red, rock-like substance ; in 
 others they were softer and covered with ver- 
 dure, pines, and innumerable clusters of the 
 wild Alpine rose. 
 
 In passing one of these mountains where 
 the roses clustered some distance up the height, 
 Johann's desire for adventure got the better of 
 his discretion. In a twinkling he was off his 
 box, and climbing up with the agility of a wild 
 cat. Meanwhile the horses thinking they would 
 like a little fun on their own account started 
 off for a quiet gambol. On one side was the 
 mountain ; on the other, within a foot or so 
 of the carriage, the edge of a wild, deep 
 precipice, at the bottom of which the river ran 
 over its rocky bed. For a moment the man
 
 260 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 looked back, hesitating between horses and 
 roses. The latter probably would have con- 
 quered, but not waiting to ascertain, I jumped 
 out and held them until his return. He soon 
 came down, bearing in triumph a large bunch 
 of flowers. His face beamed with smiles ; 
 his hands were covered with scratches ; but 
 the pride with which some of the blossoms 
 were transferred to his hat, and some offered 
 to the occupants of the carriage, would have 
 atoned for deeper wounds. With that beam- 
 ing look upon his face it was almost impos- 
 sible to blame the man for deserting his 
 post, seeing that in the end no harm had 
 arisen. It was but the second time in his 
 life he had made the journey, the first being 
 five years previous : and with delight he had 
 seized upon the chance of a change in the 
 monotony of the usual route. 
 
 The mountains were most densely covered 
 with pines at the Pass Geschutt, a wild, un- 
 earthly gorge. As we drew near the Gosau- 
 swang the road became good and passable, 
 and the latter end of the journey was smooth 
 and even. It gradually formed into a narrow,
 
 A Thunder Storm* 261 
 
 picturesque glen, leaving just room enough for 
 the rapid torrent and the road. At length, a 
 sharp descent, the bridge crossed, the Gosau- 
 swang passed — a sort of aqueduct bridging 
 the chasm, and containing the pipes that 
 stretch along the mountains for conveying the 
 brine — and the Gosau-Miihle, on the borders 
 of the wonderfully picturesque lake of Hall- 
 stadt, brought that day's travelling to a close. 
 Johann was dismissed with a trinkgeld, 
 with which he was so delighted that he was 
 positively about to testify his gratitude with a 
 real German hug, from which the intended 
 recipient only escaped with a backward spring.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 AT LAKE HALLSTADT. 
 
 TO arrive at eventide at Gosau-Miihle and 
 the calm beauty of the Lake of Hallstadt 
 at the end of a journey so rough and rude as 
 to be almost perilous, is like falling to rest 
 upon calm waters after experiencing for many 
 hours the rage of an ocean storm. Mind and 
 spirit have been strung to the last pitch of 
 excitement by an unbroken panorama of 
 glorious and unimaginable scenery; the body 
 has become fatigued and weary and almost 
 bruised by jolting into ruts and jolting out of 
 them ; stumbling over stones and escapes from 
 precipices ; by sitting hour after hour in a vehicle 
 built for strength and wear far more than show 
 and luxury. 
 
 The journey is over; the scenery is passed; 
 that which lies before the eye is of so different 
 a nature that it may belong to a new world;
 
 At Lake Hallstadt, 263 
 
 another day is sinking to rest ; Gastein is 
 falling away. 
 
 It had been intended to go on to Hallstadt 
 that evening by the small steamer that plies 
 the lake. But about and around the half inn, 
 half restaurant at Gosau-Miihle there lurked 
 so decided an air of repose, that worn out with 
 a two days' journey and a sleepless night, it 
 was determined to remain here the night, and 
 to defer until the next morning a further search 
 for pastures fresh and new. The maid, a 
 superior woman, appeared and spoke as one 
 above her position : the master of the inn, a 
 young man strong and tall, seemed glad enough 
 to entertain visitors, and make them comfort- 
 able : and the end of it was that the one day 
 at Gosau-Miihle prolonged itself into a sojourn 
 of four or five. 
 
 For it proved far pleasanter than Hallstadt. 
 The latter place had been recommended by 
 the doctor, as affording a prospect of quiet 
 rest combined with the beauties of scenery. 
 Both of these recommendations it certainly 
 possessed, to the point of excellence ; but thereto 
 it added a drawback, to be mentioned pre-
 
 264 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 sently, that rendered it sheerly impossible to 
 pay it anything beyond a few hours' visit. 
 
 The beauty of Hallstadt is as remarkable as 
 it is peculiar. It claims an individuality en- 
 tirely its own. Perhaps there is not another 
 spot like it in the world. With the exception 
 of a small footpath half way up the moun- 
 tain, it can only be reached ' by a small 
 steamer on the lake. Everything taken 
 into Hallstadt in the shape of provisions is 
 conveyed by this means. The effect on first 
 approaching it in this little vessel is such as 
 it would be difficult to find elsewhere. The 
 beauty and romance of its situation strike upon 
 you at once. The small, white, Swiss-looking 
 cottages on the mountain side, perched one 
 above another, in picturesque irregularity, here 
 and there embedded in foliage from which they 
 peep out shily as a mistress watching the 
 return of her lover, might almost be taken 
 from a distance for nests, the home of eagles 
 and the feathered fowl of the air. 
 
 But in the first evening at Gosau-Muhle all 
 this was as yet unknown. Sitting out on the 
 balcony overhanging the water, it was not
 
 At Lake Hallstadt. 267 
 
 even dreamed of. Twilight was falling upon 
 the mountains opposite, and as it deepened 
 into night, so did the reflection of their shadow 
 upon the water, until it looked dark, cold, and 
 treacherous. The mountains were high, and 
 precipitous almost as a wall. The surface of 
 the lake was smooth and unruffled ; and the 
 multitude of fish seemed to have played out 
 their day's pleasure and to he preparing for 
 sleep. No sound broke the stillness, save the 
 running of the stream emptying itself through 
 the locks into the lake. To the right was the 
 Gosau-Muhle — or mill — itself. In this lake 
 the logs of wood that had streamed along so 
 many miles of river at length found resting 
 place. They would come banging and booming 
 down, and at last be steered into the lake, 
 whence by degrees they were transported into 
 the mill. 
 
 Sawing was always going forward in the 
 mill, from Monday morning till Saturday 
 night. This gave employment to a number of 
 hands, encamped in a cluster of cottages close 
 by ; a small colony of people, who repudiated 
 all dealings with neighbouring Hallstadt on the
 
 268 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 one hand, or the various villages on the other. 
 The mill gave work to men only ; old, middle- 
 aged, and young : a fine, handsome race the 
 latter : hut as, since the creation, it has not 
 been good for man to live alone, so it happened 
 in the natural order of things that wives and 
 sweethearts were not an unknown blessing in 
 this exclusive settlement. 
 
 Behind the inn on the other side was the 
 end of the valley, and the Gosauswang perched 
 up aloft like a narrow bridge, on to which you 
 might clamber, if so inclined, and look upwards 
 at the stream that parted the mountains, and 
 around on the lake stretching far and wide. 
 
 That first evening we sat long upon the 
 balcony ; long into the darkness. It was so 
 pleasant to let the eye rest upon this calm 
 water ; so great a contrast to the restless tor- 
 rent of Gastein. The rattle of the carriage 
 was still singing in the ears, making the pre- 
 sent stillness almost weird in its intensity. It 
 was like being shut out from the world ; and 
 to think of that far-off roar and tumult, each 
 life in the crowd teeming with a thousand plans 
 and purposes of its own, was like imagining
 
 At Lake Hal Is tacit. 271 
 
 something that had never existed or never could 
 exist again. 
 
 It was almost an awful sensation, this sense 
 of isolation. Many a man might go mad with 
 too much of it, if his mind had not resources 
 that enabled him to make a world for himself 
 apart from them. I almost felt that I should 
 never again see this busy world, from which I 
 had been so long cut off — but it was not so 
 very long before I was in the midst of some of 
 the busiest, most heartrending scenes of Europe. 
 
 It was difficult, almost impossible, to realize, 
 seated there, that there was an outside 
 world full of life and activity ; minds plotting 
 for power, plans ripening for a great con- 
 vulsion. The quietness was at once soothing 
 and depressing ; and as night wrapped her 
 dark mantle round the mountains, and crept 
 over the surface of the lake, shutting out 
 everything from sight, the dreariness was 
 well nigh enough to make one repent the reso- 
 lution to pass a night in this dull abode. 
 
 But the next morning sent blues and glooms 
 and repentance to the winds. The sun rose 
 gloriously, and threw around its influence on
 
 272 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 man and mountain. The beauties of the 
 spot seemed tenfold greater than they had 
 appeared in last night's twilight. A long, 
 unbroken sleep had restored the mind to a 
 more healthy tone, dissipating clouds and 
 cobwebs ; and when breakfast was over, and 
 the small steamer ploughed its way up the 
 lake to the pier, we were quite ready to em- 
 bark on an expedition to Hallstadt. 
 
 It was but a small steamer, and could not 
 do great things in speed ; so that, although 
 the distance was short, we w r ere ten minutes 
 or more in reaching Hallstadt. Ten pleasant 
 minutes on the water as we steamed lei- 
 surely through wonderful scenery, and felt 
 that there w T ere no arms to tire with the 
 exertion of rowing, and no one to grumble. 
 But at last we were landed ; and the beauty 
 of the place, and its strange, unworldlike ap- 
 pearance, were soon found to possess a draw- 
 back of a most unpleasant, insurmountable 
 description. It might naturally occur to the 
 mind that the people would be as primitive 
 and picturesque as their habitation, but a 
 greater mistake was never conceived. No
 
 At Lake Hal Is tacit. 273 
 
 place ever gave me so great a feeling of 
 wretchedness and repulsion. The men and 
 women were not only small of stature, ugly of 
 feature, but nearly all more or less deformed. 
 Some were humpbacked ; some had withered 
 arms and hands ; some appeared misshapen 
 from head to foot ; many were simple or 
 idiotic ; scarce a woman but had a goitre 
 throat ; most were toothless. 
 
 Various reasons contribute to this state of 
 things. From their isolated position they 
 have continually married and intermarried 
 amongst each other. Those who belong to 
 Hallstadt will not leave it ; they could not very 
 well do so indeed, for they seem unfitted to go 
 out and battle with the world ; and new people 
 will not come to it. It is not pleasant to be 
 so separated from your fellows, and the place 
 offers no advantages whatever to compensate 
 for this drawback. 
 
 That so beautiful a spot should be so afflicted 
 was a grievous matter : a greater contrast than 
 between place and people could not exist. The 
 men for the most part work in the salt mines, 
 in itself an unhealthy occupation. The mines
 
 274 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 to some extent impregnate the air with salt- 
 petre, another influence which appears to work 
 against health and life. The utmost pay the 
 men receive in flourishing times is at the rate 
 of about three shillings and sixpence a week, 
 and many upon this have to rear a family of 
 ten or twelve children : six is a very ordinary 
 number. When times are bad and there is 
 no work to be had, they earn nothing, and must 
 live as they can ; sometimes getting a slight 
 relief from the church when the poor box is 
 not empty ; often verging upon starvation. 
 This abject poverty helps to the general state of 
 misshapen humanity which here seems so uni- 
 versal, and is so distressing. Turning into 
 the churchyard a sight met the eye too revolt- 
 ing for record ; but nothing could have given a 
 greater proof of the heathenism of the people. 
 At some little distance upon a wall, also, two 
 skulls were bleaching in the sun; from the ad- 
 joining cottage, whose windows overlooked the 
 revolting graveyard, out ran a child with that 
 peculiar gibbering of the idiots, who had been 
 taught to beg — the only trade he could learn. 
 Beggars indeed met one at every step ; old
 
 At Lake Hallstadt. 275 
 
 women, who were nothing but shrunken defor- 
 mities, and young men and boys half-witted or 
 maimed. Some of the poor wretches went 
 upon crutches, others upon all fours; but most 
 of them, in a sing-song tone painful enough to 
 hear, held out their hands and begged for 
 charity. Surely the doctor, had he ever been 
 here himself, and witnessed these sights, would 
 not have recommended Hallstadt as a resting- 
 place, in which days or weeks might pass 
 pleasantly. True, it was possible to go to one 
 of the two inns, and sit out all day long upon 
 the balcony facing the lake, and shut yourself 
 away from the people, but the very idea of 
 proximity to them was in itself unbearable. 
 The quiet of Gosau-Muhle, where the people 
 were more civilized and human, was a thousand 
 times preferable. Indeed it was a mystery 
 how in the short distance there could be so 
 much difference in the race : for at Gosau- 
 Miihle they were tall, well formed and hand- 
 some. 
 
 The beauty and singularity of Hallstadt is as 
 much its own as are the afflictions of its people. 
 Perched on the mountain side, it has no streets.
 
 276 A Month at Gastrin. 
 
 The houses are built with puzzling irregularity, 
 the means of communication from one to the 
 other a few rough steps, or here and there a 
 footpath a few feet in length. For three or 
 four months in the year the sun never falls 
 upon the village, and it grows dark before the 
 day is half over : a source of misery which 
 may in some sort be realized, if we remember 
 how gloomy we ourselves feel when only for 
 three or four days without the good influence 
 of sunlight. This, added to their poverty, 
 must make their existence hard and dreary 
 indeed ; literally and figuratively destitute of 
 sunshine. 
 
 Upon the faces of many, men and women, 
 was a look of trouble, as if the burden of life 
 was hard to bear. In so out-of-the-world a 
 spot you might fancy living to be reasonable, 
 but it is not so. All animal food is brought 
 from a distance, and the poor have to go with- 
 out it, with the exception perhaps of a very 
 few times a year by way of a treat. Strangers 
 seldom take up their abode in Hallstadt, though 
 many visit it for a few hours. No one indeed 
 ought to miss doing so when in the neighbour-
 
 At Lake Hallstadt. 277 
 
 hood. With regard to the deformities spoken 
 of, it is possible that I saw the worst of them, 
 and that many who were away at their work 
 and out of sight were less unhappily afflicted. 
 
 The inn was an old-fashioned, rambling 
 house, built chiefly of wood, large enough for 
 a small palace. It seemed miserably uncom- 
 fortable, with its naked walls and bare floors 
 and tables ; a place where lurked a sense of 
 mystery, an atmosphere of murder. Had I 
 stayed there I should certainly have gone to 
 sleep that night with a feeling of possible foul 
 play before morning ; an unseen trap door, or 
 sliding panel, or false ceiling ; though no 
 doubt it was all fancy, and the keepers were as 
 simple and harmless as if the existence of evil 
 were nothing but a problem. 
 
 After rambling through the building in the 
 wake of a stout landlady — who seemed not to 
 share in the poverty of her neighbours — it 
 became evident that it would be much better 
 to return to Gosau-Miihle rather than remain 
 in this uncomfortably mysterious old barn. 
 The house was full of passages, and short 
 staircases, and when you thought you had
 
 278 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 reached the end of the tour of inspection, the 
 sudden turning of a corner would reveal a fresh 
 wilderness of passages and rooms and nights. 
 At last we came to anchor upon the balcony — 
 or rather a stage the size of a large room, 
 built out upon the water. Then to repay the 
 landlady for her trouble, I ordered some trout 
 to be served up. 
 
 Such trout exists nowhere else. Its delicious 
 flavour would drive an epicure mad with delight. 
 The shortcomings of the place, the sight of the 
 deformities of the people, would be compensated 
 by this one single virtue. I felt that I had never 
 before tasted real trout, and that such trout as 
 this was food only worthy of being coupled with 
 the drink of nectar. The cook had a peculiar 
 way of baking them ; they eat with a crisp dry 
 flavour, of which the only drawback was that it 
 was too soon over. It was seducing to the palate. 
 I found on experience that the trout was good 
 at Gosau-Miihle, but inferior to this : the whole 
 of the Salzkammergut is famous for its trout, 
 as are many parts of the Tyrol ; but none came 
 up to Hallstadt. It was not an over-cheap 
 luxury ; for they charged at the rate of five or
 
 Hallstadt.
 
 At Lake Halls tadt. 281 
 
 six shillings for four small fish. Whether this 
 was their usual demand ; or whether the land- 
 lady was not quite so simple-minded as she 
 might have been, and took advantage of a 
 stranger's ignorance ; or whether she had 
 determined to be revenged for that long ramble, 
 arduous to her fat sides, through the lofty halls 
 and corridors of her domain, interminable as 
 those of Eblis ; was a matter for doubt and 
 speculation. The fish were eaten and they 
 had to be paid for : and in a place where a 
 sense of mystery and an atmosphere of murder 
 appealed to the imagination it was impossible 
 for the tongue to utter a remonstrance. An 
 exquisite cup of cafe noir helped to while away 
 the moments until the steamer was once more 
 in readiness to return on her journey. 
 
 It is impossible to exaggerate the beauty 
 of Hallstadt, and its romantic site. The lake, 
 at the extremity of which it rises into life 
 — one can hardly say animation — is five miles 
 long, in places more than a mile broad, and 
 as much as a hundred fathoms deep. From 
 one end to the other there is scarcely a hu- 
 man habitation to be seen. Almost you might
 
 282 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 be in a country of the dead, a dead stillness 
 reigning : nothing breaking in on the mono- 
 tony, or toning down its wild and gloomy 
 aspect. The mountains rise precipitously 
 from its borders, casting their black shadows 
 upon the water, which becomes almost dark 
 as Erebus. No roadway adorns its side ; there 
 is not room for it ; and so between Hallstadt 
 and Gosau-Miihle there is nothing but the small 
 footpath in the mountain, and the steamer for 
 visitors and merchandize. 
 
 Few lakes surpass this in beauty. The one 
 day promised to Gosau-Miihle prolonged itself 
 into four or five : days of such intense quiet as 
 might be found in the midst of a desert. 
 The weather was fine and warm ; the sun- 
 shine, now abundant, unbroken by a cloud. 
 For occupation I would sit out on the balcony 
 and watch the men working in the mills ; or 
 piloting the logs of wood with long poles from 
 the locks to the lake, where they clustered in a 
 sort of raft forming an immense circle. Upon 
 this raft men and boys would launch, packing 
 the logs, and drawing into the mill those im- 
 mediately required. Every now and then one
 
 is 
 
 Q 
 
 Eh 
 
 K 
 J 
 
 <)
 
 At Lake Hallstadt. 285 
 
 less careful than the rest would slip be- 
 tween and splash into the lake, and for a mo- 
 ment disappear ; a feat his comrades greeted 
 with shouts of laughter that awoke the echoes 
 of the mountains. All this was animated 
 enough ; one small spot forming an exception 
 to the surrounding scene : a scene so full of 
 beauty that it grew upon the eye, almost as a 
 home face grows upon the heart, and leaves 
 there its image and influence. Every hour's 
 familiarity only made its charm, its wild dig- 
 nity, more apparent : the long quiet reach of 
 still waters, the silent mountains guiltless of 
 all sign of life, you might look upon hour after 
 hour, and still look on. And if at last somewhat 
 weary of the picture, which was not a little 
 mournful in its isolation, you had but to turn 
 your chair half round upon the lively little 
 mill sheds, to the men who seemed endowed 
 with perpetual motion and perpetual sunshine. 
 They appeared happy and simple ; strong 
 and handsome ; a strange contrast, it has been 
 remarked, to the people of Hallstadt. On 
 Sunday afternoon they assembled, dressed in 
 their best, in the yard separating the old inn
 
 286 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 from the new. A long wooden table was 
 brought out, at which they sat, some forty of 
 them, drinking beer, laughing and singing ; 
 amusing themselves in a quiet, orderly man- 
 ner ; old and young fraternizing ; merry and 
 jovial, but in no sense uproarious. Now and 
 then one or two of the maids would peep out 
 of the doorway, and say something to one of the 
 younger of the men that would cause him to 
 start up in pursuit. A scream, a scramble, 
 and under cover of the house, a forfeit, per- 
 haps resisted, but none the less liked. This 
 day out of the seven was their only day of 
 rest ; a rest fairly earned. Who can imagine 
 an existence more quiet than this ? more 
 simple, uneventful, or free from care ? Are 
 there any who would exchange a life of riches 
 and luxury, the whirl of society and the toil 
 of business, for that of these men, in whose 
 closet lurks no skeleton ? 
 
 Under the quiet surface of the water, too, 
 life and activity were not wanting. A few 
 crumbs of bread, dropped in, would bring shoals 
 upon shoals of small trout into view, struggling, 
 quarrelling, fighting for the bait, as if it was
 
 At Lake Hal Is tacit. 287 
 
 as delicate a morsel to them as they were in 
 turn to others. The biggest and greediest 
 generally got the most : showing that in 
 some things at any rate it is very much in 
 the world of fishes as it is in the world of 
 men.
 
 CHAPTEE XVII. 
 
 COMING BACK TO THE WOELD. 
 
 T was almost impossible to leave the neigh- 
 bourhood without seeing the Vorder-see, 
 a small but beautiful lake, crowned by the 
 Dachstein, the largest and grandest mountain 
 in the Salzkammergut. But this was not to be 
 undertaken without transgressing the doctor's 
 orders. There was no mountain to climb, but 
 it entailed a long walk up a tolerably steep 
 ascent, which would only be accomplished with 
 considerable fatigue. At last, after making 
 various enquiries, it appeared that at the 
 blacksmith's shop at Gosau a chaise-a-porteurs 
 might be hired, and with the help of a couple of 
 strong men, convey any one to the very borders 
 of the lake without bodily exertion. 
 
 Behold us then, one morning, starting for the 
 village of Gosau, jolting up the valley in a 
 roughly built, uncomfortable, springless machine, 
 drawn by a cadaverous looking animal they
 
 Coming Back to the World. 289 
 
 called a horse. The pitiable beast looked ante- 
 diluvian, and certainly was a skeleton ; and as 
 he toiled in a heavy lumbering manner, the 
 vehicle kept time with his paces with an up- 
 and-down movement that was very novel and 
 very disagreeable. But we made way in spite 
 of difficulties in a drive of about ten miles ; up 
 the glen by the side of the stream ; past the 
 mountains loaded with clusters of the Alpine 
 rose, fragrant with wild strawberries, and 
 abounding in wild flowers, some familiar enough 
 to English eyes, some known only in these 
 districts. At length the valley was left to the 
 right, and a road opened out, disclosing the 
 valley of Gosau, backed by the pinnacles of the 
 Donnerkogl and Zornikogl, the western ridges 
 of the Dachstein. This Dachstein occupies a 
 position worthy of its greatness, being what 
 may be termed the boundary stone separating 
 Styria, Salzburg, and Austria from each other. 
 
 A short drive brought us to Gosau ; a strag. 
 gling village which appeared to have neither 
 beginning nor ending, its houses scattered here 
 and there in ones and twos over an extent of 
 three miles. 
 
 u
 
 290 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 The crazy vehicle rattled up to the black- 
 smith's, which is also the inn of the place ; so 
 small and dirty, that a wayfarer must have been 
 very hard up for a night's lodging before ven- 
 turing to rest his weary limbs in the hovel. The 
 smith, himself, a Vulcan of tremendous height 
 and muscle, looked as if he could have carried 
 off his house, forge included, on his shoulders. 
 He came forward at the sound of wheels, and 
 when enquiries were made for the chaise-a- 
 porteurs, dived rapidly again within the dark, 
 mysterious precincts of his abode. 
 
 Presently, out came two men, bearing between 
 them an old-fashioned arm-chair resting upon 
 poles. Into this I was requested to be seated, 
 and with the sensations of a martyr and the 
 dignity of a pope, my body bruised and aching 
 from head to foot with the drive, obeyed the 
 command. 
 
 The motion of the sedan was indescribable. 
 My first experience in this mode of travelling, 
 I trusted it would also be the last. Never had 
 I felt so helpless and dependent: so much at 
 the mercy of others ; whilst the swaying of the 
 chair and the measured tramp of the men gave
 
 Coming Back to the World. 291 
 
 me a sensation of assisting at my own funeral ; 
 a feeling hitherto reserved for dreams. Fifty 
 times I upbraided myself for quitting the quiet 
 waters of Gosau-Miihle in search of fresh 
 beauties and adventures. 
 
 From the blacksmith's to the Vorder-see was 
 more than an hour's walk up an uninterrupted 
 ascent, but in spile of the undesirable mode of 
 progress it was impossible not to enjoy the 
 scenery. The way led through a species of 
 forest thinly populated with trees, their branches 
 here and there overshadowing the path. 
 The grass was soft and mossy to the foot, 
 and wild flowers sprang up in nooks and 
 crevices. It was a pastoral scene, wherein 
 we might have made progress to the strains 
 of Handel, or Beethoven's grander symphony. 
 Occasionally the men, strong and stalwart 
 though they were, put down their burden 
 and rested themselves on the poles ; humilia- 
 tion to me so keen that I felt inclined to throw 
 doctor's orders and personal vows to the 
 winds, quit the odious machine, and walk. The 
 entire scene was so lonely and desolate that 
 it was easy to fancy it as yet untrodden by
 
 292 A Month at Gastrin. 
 
 the foot of man. Without sign of human 
 habitation, it had preserved its rugged wild- 
 ness and grandeur. Approaching the end, the 
 path became more steep and rugged, leading 
 through a fir wood, not very dense or dark ; and 
 at last, in an abrupt and unexpected manner we 
 suddenly came in view of the lake itself. It 
 was small, and at first sight disappointing to 
 the lofty expectations formed of it. Closely 
 shut in 'and surrounded by a foreground of 
 dark fir trees, they threw their black shade 
 upon the water, and gave it a solemn, gloomy 
 appearance. At the opposite end rose the 
 Dachstein in majesty, glaciers hanging from 
 its sides of ice — blue and white : on the very 
 summit an enormous one that seemed to shift 
 even as we looked. Here the ice never 
 melts : in the heat of summer and the depth 
 of winter it is there, defying all seasons, all 
 time. 
 
 As we looked, the sky became overcast with 
 thick clouds that turned the blue ice purple and 
 the water more threatening : so cold and dark 
 and deep as almost to cause a shudder. "What 
 a quiet, soundless sleep it would be, reposing
 
 Wt 
 
 Hi* i 
 
 i 
 
 
 ii 
 

 
 Coming Back to the World. 295 
 
 there in the silent shadows of its unfathomable 
 depths ! Large drops began to fall, threatening 
 a soaking at any rate, without the trouble of 
 tumbling into the lake's dark waters. But the 
 clouds happily passed on their journey, down 
 into other regions. Having satisfied the eye 
 with a long view and endeavoured to impress it 
 upon the memory, the procession once more 
 set off on its backward journey. This time 
 it was easy, downhill work, the blacksmith's 
 was reached in good speed, and with no small 
 reluctance I once more climbed into the ricketty 
 vehicle. Safely landed at Gosau, with almost 
 a concussion of the spine, I looked out upon 
 the quiet waters of Lake Hallstadt, and felt 
 that here indeed was beauty not to be surpassed. 
 Enough, and to spare, to satisfy the eye and 
 head and heart of man, without perilling life 
 and limbs to seek for other. 
 
 Long months after, seated with nothing better 
 to look at than dull melancholy bricks and 
 mortar, and smoke curling lazily out of chim- 
 neys, thrown out in relief by a background of 
 leaden sky, perhaps a different argument held 
 sway. Of earth's beauties all had passed away
 
 296 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 save a recollection : and to make fancy vivid, I 
 must paint the windows in the soft glowing 
 tints of a southern evening, and imagine that 
 beyond them lay a panorama of beauty and 
 glory, of mountain and lake, of river and valley, 
 of eternal snows and eternal sunshine. 
 
 Such verily there is, but afar off. So dis- 
 tant that it lies beyond the gray sky; beyond 
 ethereal blue ; beyond mortal vision. But it 
 is there ; waiting for every man until that day 
 in his life, when, like Moses, each in turn goes 
 up alone into the mountain to be seen no more. 
 
 It is something to be able to live over those 
 recollections ; to shut the eyes, and let a 
 moving panorama of glory pass before the 
 mind, as distinctly as if actually seen. It 
 cannot be always summer with us — Toujours 
 perdrix neither at the dinner table nor in 
 travel. We have to come back to our brick- 
 making : the allotted tasks, the daily work, 
 the realities of life. Holidays, and seasons of 
 enjoyment, the beauties of nature, and the 
 splendours of art, are the exception for most 
 of us. Les jours gras of existence. 
 
 On the whole, those few days at Gosau-Miihle
 
 Coming Back to the World. 297 
 
 ■were much enjoyed. An experience of still- 
 life, surpassed only at Nauders, a small village 
 in the Tyrol: where ten days were spent of 
 absolute seclusion from the world. 
 
 It was some time after leaving Gosau-Miihle 
 and Lake Hallstadt that I found myself at 
 Nauders. I had seen many places, and tra- 
 velled about somewhat restlessly, and dis- 
 obeyed the doctor's orders to a certain extent 
 in getting tired, when one day we found our- 
 selves at Innsbruck, undecided as to where our 
 next step in search of the picturesque should 
 lead us. At last we decided that we would 
 journey to Meran and Botzen to catch a 
 glimpse of the Dolomite mountains, and once 
 there make up our minds where next to wander. 
 
 We started one night from Innsbruck by 
 the diligence that carried the mails — the only 
 time we availed ourselves of this mode of tra- 
 velling. The woods as we passed them were 
 alive and alight with myriads of fire-flies float- 
 ing in the air ; naught of them visible but 
 a pale blue light, something like that of a glow- 
 worm. In every sense of the word the scene
 
 298 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 was enchanting. The moon, a thin bright 
 crescent, rode gently at anchor in the unclouded 
 sky. The forms and shadows of the mountains 
 stood out, greater and grander than beneath 
 the sunshine. At intervals we dashed through 
 a sleeping village, and awoke echoes in the 
 silence that seemed to come back upon us with 
 reproach for breaking in upon such utter soli- 
 tude. But for these villages, the only signs of 
 life along the road, we might have been travel- 
 ling through a country as yet unknown to man. 
 With the first glimmer of dawn, the gloom 
 seemed to creep away and give place to a dull 
 gray atmosphere which one felt rather than 
 saw to be the breaking up of darkness. As it 
 stole on by imperceptible shades, I looked back 
 at the lights in the north. The most soft yet 
 gorgeous tints were in the sky. Each colour 
 of the rainbow might almost be traced, from 
 the pale orange in the horizon to the deep purple 
 overhead. Tones that no painter could transfer 
 to canvas: not even Turner, with all his gor- 
 geous imagination and colouring : putting to 
 shame even such efforts of his genius as he 
 threw into those marvellous sketches of Heidel-
 
 Coming Back to the World. 299 
 
 berg, Zurich, and others. It was curious and 
 beautiful to watch the growing light, until, 
 though the sun could not be seen, a sudden 
 change proclaimed that he had shot above the 
 horizon behind the mountains. 
 
 At Imst the diligence stopped to change 
 horses and take an extra pair. Thousands of 
 canaries are bred in this village ; and whilst 
 we waited an army of them were singing 
 and raving as if they had all gone mad. A 
 little such melody went a great way. "We had 
 bargained for the whole of the diligence, but 
 two sisters of charity came up and begged for 
 seats : a request impossible to refuse. They 
 were going home, to a convent at Landeck, an 
 institution for twelve Sisters of Mercy, who go 
 about the country nursing the sick. As they 
 sat there, their picturesque dress seemed to 
 make an interesting foreground to the land- 
 scape. Evidently they had not been home for 
 some time, for as they gradually came in sight 
 of the building, they closed their books and 
 paused in their silent devotions, their quiet, 
 motherly faces lighted up, and tears sprang to 
 their eyes.
 
 300 A Month at Gastrin. 
 
 The scenery from Landeck to Nauders was 
 grand and terrific ; the road lying amidst rocks, 
 out of which it had been cut and blasted; 
 every now and then passing through short tun- 
 nels hollowed out in the stone. Thousands of 
 feet overhead towered the rocky mountains, 
 some jotting out and overhanging the road, as 
 if they would crush the mites of living humanity 
 beneath them : reminding me very much of the 
 Pass at the entrance of the valley of Gastein : 
 others sloping away more gradually. To the 
 left hand, at the bottom of an almost perpen- 
 dicular precipice, six hundred feet deep, ran the 
 beautiful Eiver Inn, rushing and leaping along 
 with a sound all lost in the distance, and com- 
 pleting the wild aspect of the scene. It was a 
 continuous ascent up to Nauders, where one at 
 length felt very much indeed above the ordinary 
 level of mankind. I was so knocked up with 
 the journey that I determined, come what 
 might, to remain here at rest for three or four 
 days : and these prolonged themselves into ten. 
 To have heard of Nauders, which possesses 
 little fame to penetrate beyond its own quiet 
 boundaries, is almost equivalent to a confession
 
 Coming Back to the World. 301 
 
 of having been there. It is a lovely village of 
 some fourteen hundred inhabitants, on the 
 very borders of Switzerland. A few minutes' 
 walk from the inn and you find yourself on 
 the summit of a hill, looking over into the com- 
 mencement of the beautiful Engadine valley, 
 where the air is supposed to be almost the 
 purest in Europe. Across the valley, high up 
 in a mountain, reposes the small village of 
 Schling ; a spot marvellously beautiful but 
 marvellously out of the world : so elevated that 
 no conveyance of any sort or description can 
 reach it ; nothing for it but a long climb lasting 
 some two or three hours. Nine years ago, one 
 cold, bright night, it was burnt to the ground; 
 and a fine sight it must have been to see the 
 flames rising towards heaven from the mountain 
 side, the sky in the darkness becoming a lurid 
 red, throwing the valley into bold relief. Re- 
 built, the white, clean looking houses are now 
 dazzling in the sunshine, and stand out here 
 and there in the mountain, the far off beacons 
 of a little world. 
 
 The situation of Naudcrs was romantic and 
 beautiful. From the top of one of the hills,
 
 302 A Month at Gas tern. 
 
 the village looked a nest in a tree ; an opal 
 stone surrounded by emeralds. The moun- 
 tains, high and varied, did not grow monoto- 
 nous. Some were rocky, their irregular out- 
 lines cutting the blue sky sharply, so that it 
 looked as a puzzle from which pieces were 
 missing. Others were green and wooded, the 
 lower parts cultivated into fields of corn and 
 grain ; but further up, where it was too high 
 for vegetation, the trees had been allowed 
 to remain : through which the soft winds 
 sighed and sobbed with a sad, melancholy 
 murmur ; and the fiercer winds with a noise 
 as the rush of a far-off sea, dying away like 
 waves rippling over sands in ebb and flow. 
 The trees stood out on the tops of the moun- 
 tains, no two alike ; and ever and anon a white 
 fleecy cloud would come rolling up and quickly 
 disappear on the opposite side, as if it was 
 the car of an ethereal being hastening to an- 
 other world on some errand of mercy. 
 
 Though surrounded by mountains, Nauders 
 was far less shut in than Gastein. The air was 
 wonderfully pure and bracing and yet soothing. 
 The village inn itself was primitive beyond de-
 
 Coining Back to the World. 303 
 
 scription, but the people were civil and obliging. 
 The landlady, who seldom came out of her den, 
 was a handsome, striking looking woman ; so 
 unlike the inhabitants of the village that she 
 never could have belonged to them. There 
 was something strange and mysterious about 
 her ; her retired mode of life ; her quiet move- 
 ments, so slow and dignified. 
 
 It was a matter for wonder where the four- 
 teen hundred inhabitants of Nauders put them- 
 selves. Neither by day nor night were they 
 visible, beyond here and there a few stray way- 
 farers. For the most part it bore the appear- 
 ance of a deserted village, though certainly not, 
 like sweet Auburn, the village of a plain. 
 Scarcely a sound broke the stillness of morn- 
 ing, noon, or evening, save the cling-clang of 
 the blacksmith, whose forge unluckily was 
 pitched exactly facing the inn. A tall, lean, 
 cacaverous looking man, this blacksmith, with 
 a face grimy enough, but sensible and pleasant 
 notwithstanding, and an arm that would have 
 done honour to Hercules. A man never at a 
 fault for work, to judge by the unceasing blows 
 that came down like thunder upon the anvil:
 
 304 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 and bis assistant was equally busy. For half 
 an bour or so in tbe day the noise would cease, 
 affording a prospect of a few moments' repose. 
 Now and then a couple of small, miserable - 
 looking oxen would be brought down to be 
 shod; a process they seemed to look upon as 
 a kind of martyrdom, and for the performance 
 of which they were pent up in a frame consist- 
 ing of four sliding poles, just large enough for 
 them to squeeze into. Surely cattle so thin 
 and wretched never were seen, though probably 
 more the result of nature than starvation. The 
 blacksmith with his dark trade seemed to com- 
 bine the more learned one of village Esculapius, 
 at any rate as far the cattle were concerned. 
 Occasionally an old woman would bring down 
 her invalid cow to be doctored, and the animal 
 was put to such mysterious torture as would 
 cause the place to echo with its cries and roars. 
 "When released the old woman would drive it 
 back home, hastening its weary steps with the 
 help of a thick stick. 
 
 The goats were in better condition : hardy 
 and saucy. A whole regiment of them would 
 troop past the inn between four and five
 
 Coming Back to the World. 305 
 
 o'clock in the morning, on their way to the 
 mountains. Each one carried a bell round 
 its neck, so that the noise may in a faint mea- 
 sure be imagined. After this hour sleep was 
 impossible ; the goats out of sight and hear- 
 ing, the blacksmith would begin operations for 
 the day, and hammer away as if this was a 
 city of the dead, and he had the task of waking 
 it up. 
 
 The village fool here was no myth ; and it 
 was amusing to watch the mischievous antics 
 of the poor dumb, half-witted lad. He was 
 the butt of the people, but generally managed 
 to retaliate upon them with interest. By chance 
 catching sight of a stranger, he would pull off 
 his cap and beg, though very well taken care 
 of by his people. His appeal successful, he 
 would spend the small coin in rolls, which were 
 crammed into a couple of capacious pockets 
 and devoured at leisure. Looking round cau- 
 tiously to ascertain that he was not being 
 watched, he would thrust a large piece into his 
 mouth, and almost bolt it. His love of eating 
 seemed insatiable, though he was evidently 
 neither starved nor hungry. A mixture of 
 
 x
 
 306 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 cunning and simplicity, he took the utmost 
 delight in the mischief he accomplished, which 
 was generally of a harmless nature. If a cart 
 laden with hay passed through the village, and 
 halted at the blacksmith's — it seemed a rendez- 
 vous for gossip in spite of work — the fool 
 would start the animals at full speed, and then 
 look round and run off with a knowing, sen- 
 sible kind of laugh at what he had done. 
 
 To sleep one night at Nauders on the road 
 to Meran or Botzen or the Engadine is as 
 much as most people dream of, and the good 
 simple folk of the village, who thought about 
 the matter, must have been sorely puzzled by 
 a ten days' sojourn. Now and then I perceived 
 the blacksmith would cast a keen glance of 
 scrutiny at his opposite neighbour, as if doubt- 
 ing whether he was not a political refugee, or 
 a mauvais sujet hiding from man's wrath, 
 whom it was his duty to give up to justice. 
 Day after day the unsolved problem sallied 
 forth with book or desk, to while away the 
 hours beneath the shade of the old castle, 
 defying the blaze of the sun in all its noon- 
 tide fierceness. But the cool breeze coming
 
 Coming Back to the World. 307 
 
 over the mountains helped to make the shade 
 bearable. Millions of locusts with a whirr- 
 whirr, like the noise of a weaver's loom, hopped 
 about with their long legs and great green 
 bodies : bringing to memory the description of 
 the plague in the Book of Joel. Morning 
 noon and night, the air was never still for 
 them ; but happily they kept to the fields, 
 low down in the grass, and never came near 
 the village. I caught one of them, and killed 
 it with fumes of sulphur. Its body was about 
 the size of a child's thumb, in shape something 
 between a dolphin and a codfish: of a bright 
 green that afterwards changed to brown. Its 
 wings were a little longer than the body, green 
 and gauzelike, most beautiful and wonderful in 
 appearance. The body was finished off by a 
 horny tail, sharp and piercing at the end, 
 turning up in the form of a half crescent. The 
 legs were about twice as long as the body, and 
 the head was so hard and horny that a tight 
 pinch made no impression upon it. The eyes 
 were bright and large. On the whole, it looked 
 formidable ; one could easily imagine an army 
 of them devastating a country and devour-
 
 3oS A Month at Gastein. 
 
 ing all vegetation. I had some trouble in 
 poisoning it, and after deliberation dropped it 
 into a tumbler which I covered with perforated 
 paper. Putting some matches just blown out 
 into another tumbler, I turned one glass upon 
 another, and so enabled the fumes to reach the 
 locust. In doing this no small share fell to my 
 own lot, and the poor insect was revenged by 
 a headache that nearly drove me into madness. 
 The fields were a perfect forest of wild flowers 
 of the most brilliant hues, so that to lie down 
 and look over them was like looking at a carpet 
 of many colours, or a window of richly stained 
 glass. It was very pleasant to lounge on the 
 hill in the shade, and fea^t the eye upon them ; 
 to watch the haymakers working in the blazing 
 sun, and wonder how it was possible for them 
 to endure even five minutes of its scorching 
 rays. How blue the skies were, even at mid- 
 day: the sunny skies of Italy could scarcely 
 rival them, but here you are not far from 
 that favoured land. A short journey would 
 quickly bring you into new scenes, a new 
 world; the land of olive-yards and vineyards; 
 those vineyards of the south whose beauties no
 
 Coming Back to the World. 309 
 
 pen can describe, no tongue can utter, no brush 
 can paint. There is nothing like them in the 
 wide world. 
 
 At Nauders we remained ten days, and then 
 left it for Meran, that wonderful vineyard of 
 Southern Tyrol, whose very air seems impreg- 
 nated with the luscious scents of Italy. Here 
 we remained a day or two, revelling in such 
 beauties of nature as scarce come to us in our 
 dreams. But some of its impressions were 
 put to flight one morning by alarming rumours 
 that seemed wafted to us on the wings of the 
 wind : rumours that war had broken out be- 
 tween France and Prussia : that Napoleon the 
 Third had sent a declaration to King Frederick 
 William : and that all those terrible scenes 
 and movements which succeed a declaration 
 must forthwith be looked for. 
 
 Without loss of time we drove on to Botzen, 
 where the rumours were being whispered : first 
 in hushed tones, as if this declaration of war 
 could not be true, yet was an evil that to foretel 
 might be to make happen. Then as reports 
 grew greater and confidence increased, people 
 spoke out more boldly, though doubting still.
 
 310 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 The railway station at Botzen was crowded with 
 groups hurrying northward at the first breath 
 of suspicion. Gray faces full of solemn doubt 
 and dread ; others without relatives to lose, or 
 prospects to be marred by the scourge, seeming 
 indifferent to everything but their own safety; 
 a thirds small minority without relatives to lose 
 perhaps, or prospects to be marred, but full of 
 sympathy for those on whom the scourge would 
 fall. 
 
 A long, slow journey brought us to Inns- 
 bruck, which presented a very different scene 
 from the quiet peaceful town we had left a fort- 
 night before. Here the rumours were almost con- 
 firmed ; there seemed to be no longer any doubt 
 upon the point, but people thought it might be 
 soon over. Still to be on the sure side, those 
 who could not afford to be detained by the 
 war, should such a state of things come to 
 pass, were preparing for their journeys home, 
 where they might feel at rest and in safe 
 harbour. 
 
 Our plans were utterly upset. We had looked 
 forward to seeing the Ammergau Passion Play; 
 I had secured rooms and tickets before the
 
 Coming Back to the World. 311 
 
 breaking out of the war : a fortnight longer 
 would have found us traversing the primitive 
 roadways of Partenkirchen and Ammergau : 
 but the war came, not only in rumour but 
 in reality, the actors had to go off and fight, 
 and the play was ended. It was a disappoint- 
 ment. Now I would not witness it if an hour's 
 journey would take me to the scene. It has 
 become so universally known ; has been so 
 much written up and written about in the 
 literature of the day and hour ; all the world 
 now flocks in so continuous a stream to the 
 various representations, that the spirit has been 
 taken from the play, and perhaps the simplicity 
 from the actors : it has almost ceased to be a 
 religious ceremony; and with the end of this 
 there should be an end of the play also. 
 
 From Innsbruck we went to Munich, which 
 we found in a state of indescribable confusion 
 and consternation. One almost felt in the midst 
 of the war. Troops marching past the hotel ; 
 bands playing, as if to raise the drooping cour- 
 age, not of those on the road to battle, but of 
 those left behind. Weeping and wailing ; men 
 and women mingling their tears ; the grey hairs
 
 312 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 of the aged, the failing eyes, seeming in one 
 clay so many years nearer the grave in their 
 bent misery ; the young torn with a grief more 
 poignant if less sad to see ; lover clasping 
 lover in a warm, perhaps final embrace : bro- 
 ther and sister with lives parted for the first 
 time, and, in so many instances, the last. The 
 love of one's country need be no idle song or 
 thought, no fancied passion of the heart, to 
 bear up against such scenes ; and the cause of 
 war no mere whim or idea to justify the endless 
 sorrow it leaves behind. 
 
 The hotels were overflowing with English, 
 who as fast as possible were making their way 
 back to the refuge of their own land. It was 
 amusing to see this crowd of sightseers, their 
 pleasures nipped in the bud, their plans rudely 
 thwarted; in their perplexity and disappoint- 
 ment, wondering which route would convey 
 them to their native shores with the least pos- 
 sible chance of damage to themselves. " It 
 might be the old days over again," said they in 
 ludicrously solemn conclave : "we might be 
 detained prisoners for fifteen years. We have 
 heard of such things. And what would become
 
 Coming Back to the World. 3 1 3 
 
 of our possessions ? our wives ? our lares and 
 penates?" So they talked, looking gray and 
 gloomy, and somewhat owlish ; shuddering at 
 unknown horrors ; a fancied misery, how dif- 
 ferent from the realities of the poor townsfolk 
 surrounding them on all sides ! 
 
 Many of these terror-stricken travellers could 
 not speak one word of French or German ; a 
 misfortune that would only heighten their 
 miseries if they had the ill-luck to be stopped 
 on some frontier town in possession only of 
 rude uncivilized barbarians. To add frightfully 
 to their dilemma, no two persons attempted to 
 give them the same advice. 
 
 One counsellor was certain the only possible 
 way was to go right up to Hamburg, and there 
 take ship for England. Another was equally 
 positive the port of Hamburg was blockaded, and 
 every one hardy enough to face its perils would 
 have to proceed homewards minus a head. 
 (The teeth of the listeners chattered at the 
 suggestion, for it was a drawback worthy of 
 consideration when you came to think of it ; 
 their nerves were already unstrung, but that 
 was as nothing compared with a head decapi-
 
 314 -A Month at Gastein. 
 
 tated.) A third in persuasive tones advised 
 Switzerland ; to cross Lake Constance, take 
 train to Zurich, and so on, through Neuchatel, 
 Dijon, and Paris. A fourth, speaking with 
 firmness unpleasantly convincing, had heard on 
 authority infallible as the Pope's, that the only 
 route now open was through Italy, and thence 
 to other quarters of the world by sea. A fifth 
 could assure his hearers — you will sympathise 
 with the emotions of that conclave of benighted 
 travellers — that all routes were closed ; not 
 one was practicable ; a lost head, imprisonment, 
 the tortures of an inquisition; these things 
 awaited the adventurous. 
 
 So at Munich the agonizing changes were rung ; 
 agonizing for so many of the tourists, who perhaps 
 for the first time in their lives, with the feelings 
 of a mouse in the open, had ventured so far from 
 home and their green pastures. In their trouble 
 and perplexity, their inability to cope with the 
 mysteries and inconveniences of an unknown 
 tongue, they almost looked as if, should they 
 ever reach England, it would, be only as candi- 
 dates for Bedlam; and mentally and openly 
 they vowed — how many such vows like other
 
 Coming Back to the World. 3 1 5 
 
 good resolutions get broken! — that once in 
 England, they would never be caught out of its 
 safe atmosphere again. 
 
 Would they, who talk and sing of the bravery 
 and hardness of soldiers, have thought so many 
 out of those thousands less brave for the tears 
 in their faces that no self-control would keep 
 in ? Where tears had ceased, and grief had had 
 its fling and worn itself quiet, there were the evi- 
 dences of red and heavy eyelids to show what had 
 been. There was no end to them as they trooped 
 past the hotel. The stations were crowded 
 with them. Some, unhappily, unconscious from 
 drink: others from sleep; many lying with their 
 heads on the hard deal tables of the waiting- 
 rooms ; others finding a softer pillow on the 
 breast of a mother, wife, or sweetheart ; a few 
 uproarious w r ith the beer that, combined with 
 grief, helped to madden them : who perhaps an 
 hour ago had wept out their good-byes to the 
 home of childhood and youth, and now were 
 recklessly pledging a pretty barmaid, drinking 
 to her bright eyes and their next merry meeting. 
 Train after train would steam out with its heavy 
 freight — heavy in more senses than one — and
 
 3 16 A Month at Gastein. 
 
 yet the crowd seemed not to diminish. It was 
 a scene of the wildest confusion and excite- 
 ment ; the beginnings of war, if not of blood- 
 shedding ; the lifting of the curtain upon one 
 of the most terrible and unrighteous tragedies 
 of the world's history. 
 
 It was well for us that many of the places 
 we wished to see at that time had been visited 
 before the breaking out of war. The beauties 
 of Ischl, that garden of the world: the banks 
 of the Danube, and the rapids of the river that 
 seemed to threaten to engulph the steamer as 
 it swung down them : the gay city of Vienna, 
 with its gorgeous opera house, and narrow 
 noisy streets, and many churches and palaces, 
 and enticing shops : besides other places that 
 to know must be to love. It would be impos- 
 sible to enumerate them here, or describe 
 them : time and space fail us : and we should 
 be carried still further beyond the boundary of 
 our title than we have yet strayed. . 
 
 It was when we had left Gosau-Miihle, and 
 not until then, that I felt I had indeed bid 
 farewell to Gastein ; had left it behind me, and
 
 Coming Back to the World. 3 1 7 
 
 entered upon another world. When Ischl was 
 reached, that favoured and fashionable capital 
 of the Salzkammergut, and I encountered its 
 scenes of worldly dissipation ; its gay crowds 
 and fashionable promenades; it was with feel- 
 ings somewhat resembling those of a monk 
 going back into life after long retirement. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 J. OODliN AHD CO., raiNTBKS, 172, bT. JOllM STREET, B.C.
 
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