"Dear to me that eastern shore;Dear is Alban, land of delights.Never would I have forsaken it,Had I not come with Naesa."
Thus the translation is rendered exact, conveying not only the matter but, also, the manner of the original—without which last any translation is and must be defective. The song is thus continued:
"Dear are Dunfay and Dunfin,And dear are the hills around them;Dear is Inis-drayon,In dear to me Dunsaivni."Coilcuan, sweet Coilcuan!Where Ainii and where Ardan came.Happy passed my days with Naesa,In the Western vales of Alban."Glenlee, O Glenlee!Amidst thy thickets have I slept,And amidst thy thickets feasted,With my love in Glenlee."Glenmessan, O, Glenmessan!Sweet were thy herbs and bright thy greens,Lulled by the falling stream we slept,On Inver's banks in Glenmessan."Gleneikh, bright Gleneikh!Where my dwelling first was fixed,The woods smiled when the rising sunShoots yellow arrows on Gleneikh."Glenarkhon, dear Glenarkhon!Fair is the vale below high Dromkhon.Sportive were my days with Naesa,In the blooming vales of Glenarkhon."Glendarua, O Glendarua!To me were thy people dear.The birds sang sweetly on the bending boughsThat shaded over Glendarua."Dear to me is that spreading shore;Dear the sandy-margined streams.Never would I have forsaken them,Had I not come with Naesa."
The events celebrated in these manuscript songs, now mustily rusting in the Dublin University collection, occurred during the first century, A. C. Deardra was the daughter of Macdoil, the historian of Ulla (Ulster); Concovar being at that time king. The plot may be briefly described:
1. At the birth of Deardra it is foretold that she shall be the cause of many calamities; but the king, unappalled by omens and predictions, causes her to be taken from Macdoil and reared under persons whom he appoints; proposing to make her queen of Ulla.2. The beautiful Deardra conceives a passion for Naesa, one of the sons of Usna; and, with the assistance of his brothers, Ainli and Ardan, elopes with him to Alban, (Scotland,) in the western part of which Naesa has large estates.3. A messenger arrives from Concovar conveying the king's solicitation that they return to Ulla, and bearing tokens of the king's forgiveness to Naesa and Deardra.4. Disregarding the forebodings of Deardra, the sons of Usna accept the king's hospitality; and on the voyage Deardra sings the pathetic farewell to Alban just quoted, as if foreboding the events which follow.5. As the vessel moors in the haven Deardra ceases to sing; but, still foreboding ruin to Naesa, advises him to place himself under the protection of Cuculiin, who has his residence at Dundalgan. Naesa's confidence in the honor of Concovar, however, prevails; and they proceed to Emana, the royal seat—Deardra foretelling their fate both in conversation and in frequent prophetic song.
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6. They are received by Concovar with the semblance of kindness, and placed in the castle of the Red Arm with guards to wait upon them; while a body of mercenaries are sent to rescue Deardra and burn the castle—the troops of Ulla having refused to imbrue their hands in the blood of the heroes.7. Naesa, Ainli, and Ardan effect their escape with Deardra; but, being pursued, are overwhelmed by the king's mercenaries and slain. Deardra sings the following lament, calling to mind every circumstance which endeared her to Naesa, and reflecting with self-tormenting ingenuity upon those transient interruptions which, occasioning uneasiness at the moment, now serve to aggravate her unavailing sorrow:
"Farewell for ever, fair coasts of Alban;Your bays and vales shall no more delight me.There oft from hills with Usna's sons,I viewed the hunt below."The lords of Alban met in banquet.There were the valiant sons of Usna:And Naesa gave a secret kissTo the fairest daughter of Dundron."He sent her a bind from the hill,And a fawn beside it running;He left the hosts of Inverness,And turned aside to her palace."My soul was drunk with madnessWhen this they told me—told meI set my boat upon the sea,To sail away from Naesa."Ainli and Ardan brave and faithful.Valiantly pursued me,And brought me bark again to land,And back again to Naesa."Then Naesa swore an oath to me;And thrice he swore upon his arms.That never would he cause me pain.Until unto the grave they bore him."The maid of Dundron swore an oath;Thrice swore the maid of Dundron,That long as Naesa dwelt on earthNo lover else should claim her."Ah, did she hear this night.That Naesa in his grave was laid,High would be her voice of wailing,But seven times fiercer shall be mine."
8. Standing by the grave of Naesa, Deardra concludes her lamentations with the following funeral song and panegyric, which having: sung, she springs into the grave and falls dead upon his breast:
"Long is the day to me: the sons of Usna are gone.Their converse was sweet;But as raindrops fall my tears.They were as the lions on the hills of Emana."To the damsels of Breaton were the dear.As hawks from the mountain they darted on the foe.The brave knelt before them,And nobles did them honor."Never did they yield in battle.Ah! woe is me that they are gone.Sons of the daughter of Caifa.A host were ye in the wars of Cualna."By careful Aifa were they reared.The countries round paid them tribute.Bursting like a flood in battle,Fought the valiant youths of Sgatha"Uatha taught them in their youth.The heroes were valiant in fight.Renowed sons of Usna,I weep, for ye have left me."Dark-brown were their eyebrows;Their eyes were fires beneath;And their faces were as embers—As embers ruddy with flame."Their legs as the down of the swan—Light and active were their limbs;Soft and gentle were their hands,And their arms were fair and manly."King of Ulla, king of Ulla!I left thy love for Naesa.My days are few after him.His funeral honors are song."Not long shall I survive my love;Think not so king of Ulla.Naesa, Ainli, and Ardan,I desire not life when you are gone."Life hath no joy.My days are already too many.Delight of my soul,A shower of tears shall fall upon your grave."Ye men that dig their grave.Dig it wide and dig it deep.I will rest on the breast of my loveMy sighs shall resound from his tomb."Oft were their shields their pillow,And oft they slept upon their spears:Lay their strong swords beside them,And their shields beneath their heads."Their dogs and hawks,—Who will now attend them?The hunters are no more on the hills;The valiant youths of Connai Cairni."My heart, it groans—it groans.When I see the collars of their hounds.Oft did I feed them.But I weep when they are near."We were alone in the waste.We were alone in the woodlands;But I knew no loneliness,Till they dug thy grave."My sight begins to fail.When I view thy grave, my Naesa.My soul hastes to depart:And my voice of wailing to be hushed."
Thus ends one of the most pathetically beautiful tales, founded upon original history, which the epico-poetic annals of any people afford. It is far superior to any single poem amid the Svethico-Gothic remains rendered famous by the masterly translations of Longfellow. In fact, to him who shall{397}happily combine the requisite anthological learning with the requisite skill as a translator, no literary Golconda, more prolific in the rubies and scintillant glories of poesy, could be unlocked, except with the Aladdin-key of almost angelic invention, than is afforded in the mouldering, mildewed, and musty masses of manuscript, in queer Celtic letters, which have been permitted to rot for ages in the library of Dublin University. Had they been English, they would have been magazinistically vaunted as masterpieces in the piquant pages of "Blackwood," or amid e dreary sermonoids of the "Westminster." Being Celtic, they are, so being, neglected.
Albeit, there are to be Longfellows and Tennysons hereafter who shall be cosmopolitan, and neither exclusively English, exclusively American, nor exclusively Japanese; and men of learning there are to be hereafter, who shall be citizens of the world (in a literary sense), and not especially citizens of England, or of France, or of America, who will seek for the beautiful in strange places beyond the narrow limits of London, Paris, or New-York.
Meantime, it has been the object of this paper to play the lamp to the gem-seeking Aladdin—suggesting that something may be done, rather than doing it. Hence what has been said and what might have been more cleverly and elaborately said, has here been curtly said upon the subject of Celtic anthology—using the term in a sense that suited the purposes and scope of this paper.
Why, O my soul! art thou, ofttimes,So faint and sad?Life shows to thee its brightest side;Why not be glad?Is not the earth most beautiful,What wouldst have more?Filled is thy cup with life's best giftsAnd running o'er.And all the grandeur and the graceOf noble art—Do they not beautify thy life,And cheer thy heart?And love, most heavenly gift of all—Is it not thine?Yes, truly; yet I cannot sayContent is mine.I feel a sadness of the soul,A weariness,A constant longing of the heart;What meaneth this?{398}I know that once, when journeying far,I felt like this,But then they only called my griefA home-sickness.And so, with every gift of God,With nought amiss,My heart is longing, longing still;What meaneth this?Why is it that my soul is sad,What meaneth this?It panteth after thee, O God!Thou art its bliss.
[Footnote 142: The Lake Dwellings of Switzerland and other Parts of Europe. By Dr. Ferdinand Keller, President of the Antiquarian Association of Zurich. Translated and arranged by John Edward Lee, F.S.A., F.G.S. (London: Longmans.)]
Since 1854, when Dr. Keller published his first report on pile-dwellings in Lake Zurich, he, and other Swiss archaeologists stimulated by his example and guided by his counsel, have zealously explored many other Swiss lakes, and have succeeded in discovering more than two hundred similar settlements, and in collecting tens of thousands of relics of the people who during many centuries occupied them. Six reports on the "wonderful Pfahlbauten" have been published by Dr. Keller; but, being written in German, they are less known than the compilation in French by Fred. Troyon, who has absorbed Dr. Keller's facts, and mingling them with fancies of his own, has given a sensational character to his work. Excellent notices have, however, appeared, written by Wylie, Lubbock, Lyell, and others, and translations of some original memoirs have been printed in the Smithsonian Reports. Stripped though the subject be, in some degree, of novelty, the present translation of Dr. Keller's work is not the less welcome; it is indeed right, that he who gave the first exposition of these structures should tell the story of their discovery, and picture forth the state of society which their remains reveal. In this work we have a general description of the structure of these dwellings; notices of the various settlements which have been discovered, with an account of others on the Italian side of the Alps, and of the Crannoges in Ireland and Scotland; chapters on the remains of plants, by Dr. Heer, and of animals, by Professor Rütimeter; and ninety-nine plates and several woodcuts give graphic, but sometimes rough drawings of the dwellings, and of the various objects found in them. As a storehouse of facts, illustrating the character and progress of an ancient people, this work is invaluable; it will aid other archaeologists in their researches; and we think, too, that the cautious and philosophical manner in which Dr. Keller reasons from his facts will help to correct some hasty and fanciful speculations.
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For the construction of pile-dwellings, Swiss lakes afford favorable sites, as along the shores there is generally a considerable breadth of shallow water. Some pleasant bay, protected by well-wooded hills, abounding in game, was selected for such settlements; and at a little distance from the land piles of various kinds of would, generally entire stems with with their bark on, but sometimes split, and from fifteen to thirty feet in links and three to nine inches in diameter, were driven into the bottom all the late, the heads of the piles rising from two to four feet above the water. At the Wangen settlement there were 40,000 piles, but all may not have been driven down at the same period. Across this substructure other stems of trees ten of twelve feet long were laid, and fastened by wooden pegs; and above them split boards were similarly fastened, for me a solid, even platform, which was covered by a bed of mud or loam. The platform of a few, which Dr. Keller callsfascine dwellings, was supported not on piles, but on layers of sticks and small stems built up from the bottom of the lake, being similar to some of the Scottish Crannoges. The boards and planks had been imperfectly fitted together, for numerous objects which had slipped through the chinks of the floor are scattered over the lake bottom; but quantities of broken implements, pottery, and animal and vegetable refuse, heaped together on particular spots, show that spaces had been left in the platform, through which rubbish had been thrown into the water, thus for me heaps analogous to the kitchen-middings of Denmark. Huts were erected on the platform, having a framework of piles and stakes, with waddle or hurdlework of small branches woven between the upright piles, and covered over with a thickness of from two to three inches of loam or clay, evidence of which has been found in pieces of half-burnt day retaining the impression of the wattle-work. As some pieces have a curve, Troyon concluded that the huts were circular, and from nine to twelve feet in diameter; but Dr. Keller shows that the curve had probably been produced by the great heat to which the clay covering was exposed before it fell into the water, while also pieces of different curves are found promiscuously on the same spot with others perfectly flat, no piece indeed exceeding twelve inches across. It is now pretty certain that most, if not all the huts, were rectangular; those at Robenhausen and Niederwyl were found to be twenty-seven feet by twenty-two feet. They stood close to but apart from each other, and were thatched with straw and reeds. From the almost universal prevalence of clay weights for weaving, it may be inferred that every one was furnished with a loom. A narrow platform or bridge resting on piles, of which a few remains have been found, connected these dwellings with the land. Room enough there was in and around these huts for all the operations of daily life, as well as for the manufacture of every implement used in household economy; and in short, this was the place where every craft or art known to the settlers was brought into play. Even domestic animals were stalled on the platform, as at Robenhausen the remains of the litter of these animals has been found.
Such sites for dwellings are not unknown to history. Hippocrates describes similar habitations on the stagnant, quiet-flowing river Phasis in Armenia, and Herodotus others on Lake Prasias in Thrace. The Crannoges in Ireland were inhabited as recently as 1645, but rather as places of refuge; and at the present time there are analogous structures in the Eastern Archipelago. Security against the attack of enemies seems to have been the chief reason of selecting such peculiar sites for dwellings, at a period when society was in a divided state,{400}and when war of tribe against tribe was frequent. Similar conditions were indicated by the numerous hill-forts of the ancient Britons, and even by the pele towers of the border-land in mediaeval times. From the great labor bestowed on the pile structures, and the vast number of instruments of all kinds found in the "relic bed" of the lakes, it is clear that they had not been temporary places of refuge, but permanent habitations, which had been occupied during many generations; and the relics, scattered abundantly beneath these pile-dwellings, furnish important evidence relating to different eras of civilization.
In a considerable number of these dwellings—thirty at least—no trace of metal has been discovered, the instruments having been made of stone, bone, and wood; in a much larger number bronze, without a trace of iron, has been found; and in a few, it is clear that iron has been extensively used. The three ages of stone, bronze, and iron are here established by better evidence than from any other groups of remains; for the great number and variety of relics which these lake habitations have yielded, give a broad basis for true inductive reasoning on prehistoric conditions. Yet there is evidently no sudden break in these periods, such as would prove that superior and conquering races had introduced higher civilization. "It is very certain that, at least in Switzerland," says Dr. Keller, "there was no hard line of demarcation between the three periods, but that the new materials were spread abroad like any other article of trade, and that the more useful tools gradually superseded those of less value." We have here, therefore,continuityandprogress; and it may be reasonably inferred, that the advance in art from the use of stone to that of bronze, and then to iron, was made by the same race who originally took up their abode on these lakes; for during the long time the pile habitations were occupied, extending over several thousands of years, there was no essential change in the structure of the dwellings or in the mode of life. Doubtless, when these lake-dwellers first arrived in Switzerland, they had the germs of civilization; they had domestic animals from the first, such as sheep, though the flesh of wild animals was more used for food; they could spin, weave, and make cordage from beast or vegetable fibre, rude pottery they could make, some of which was even painted with graphite and rubble; fishers they were, using nets and hooks made of bone; from serpentine, flint, horns and bones they made their weapons and tools; they had brought with them cereals, and cultivated the soil with very inefficient instruments made of stag's horns and crooked branches of trees, and raised wheat and and barley, which they ground by mills of the primitive form, consisting of a round stone as a corn-crusher, and a mealing-stone with a hollow in which the corn was bruised. The stone weapons and implements are similar to those of Denmark; but several show in an interesting manner how the stone celts or chisels, which were small, from one to eight inches in length, were hafted. Some were first inserted into a piece of stag's horn, and then set in a shaft or club; others were inserted into clefts of branches and fastened by cord and asphalt. During this early age, it was the most important of all instruments, and was used for various purposes; fixed at the end of a pole, it was a lance; set into wood, it was a war-club or domestic axe; placed in horn, it was the poor man's knife; it served to skin animals, to cut flesh and hides, and to make all instruments of horn and wood.
The evidences of commercial intercourse with other people are but slight; but a bluish glass bead, in a stone age dwelling on the little reedy or "moor-lake" of Wauwyl, may show some connection with the Egyptians or Phoenicians; and knives, arrow-heads, and other implements, made of flints, not found in Switzerland, but derived from distant parts of France and Germany,{401}may indicate a barter trade with the north and west. Possibly, too, Nephrite, of which the most valuable celts were made, and which does not occur in Europe, but in Egypt, China, and other parts of Asia, may point to intercourse with the east, unless we suppose the Nephrite implements had been brought from the east by the lake-dwellers, when they first settled in Switzerland.
Not a few of the stone-age dwellings had been burnt by accident or by an enemy, and wore not rebuilt; but others had a continued existence through both the stone and bronze periods; and hence we see settlements in a transitional state, and trace a gradual advance in civilization. At Meilen, where a vast number of stone relics have been found, there appear one bronze armilla and one bronze celt; but at Robenhausen we probably see the commencement of the metallurgic art, for amid a profusion of stone relics belonging to three different platforms, crucibles have been found, with lumps of melted bronze, and one lump of pure unmelted copper. It may be that the lake-dwellers became first acquainted with metal through traders; but, as Dr. Keller remarks, "May we not venture to assume that the colonists, by their intercourse with strangers who were acquainted with the nature of metals, were incited to search their country for copper ore, and try to melt and cast it? Copper ore is found on the south side of Mürtschenstock, on the Lake of Wallenstadt." The age which was dawning blends itself with the age which was setting; for we find that the new instruments of bronze were copies of the old forms in stone. Even the bronze ornaments were but improved copies of analogous objects in own, showing indeed the sameness of race in both periods, and the similarity of their tastes and customs. The gradual introduction of metal gave to the lake-dwellers new powers, which enabled them to improve their condition; dwellings were now erected in deeper water; larger piles were used, and better sharpened and squared, fastened with cross beams, and strengthened by stones heaped up; pottery was better made, more elegant in form, and sometimes painted black or red, or ornamented with tin-foil plates. The bronze implements which had been made by native artisans were of excellent workmanship and form, especially the spear and javelin-heads, which prove great proficiency in casting. The swords with short handles and curved knives and armillae resemble those which have been found in Denmark; but we observe none of the graceful leaf-shaped swords which occur in Britain and Ireland. Varied, peculiar, and sometimes beautiful is the ornamentation of the period, consisting of zigzag lines, points, triangles, spiral and lozenge forms.
A transitional state there was, too, between the bronze and the iron periods. Morges settlement on Lake Geneva may be regarded of the bronze age; for not only have one hundred and thirty bronze objects been found there, but also moulds for casting bronze winged celts, showing that such implements had been made on the spot; yet here there occurs an iron poniard. But in the lake-dwelling of Marin, one of the lost occupied, the number of iron objects is surprisingly great, exhibiting to view weapons, agricultural and domestic implements, and ornaments made of iron, which in the older dwellings had been made of stone or bone or bronze. Of these iron relics the most remarkable are the swords, of which fifty and more have been found at Marin, some with and others without sheaths, all, with one exception, of iron, and every one being peculiarly yet differently ornamented. These swords are masterpieces of the smith's art, and were probably produced at large manufactories, when there were division of labor and every practical appliance, for some of them bear upon them makers' marks. They are, however, the product of Celtic art, and correspond in form and ornamentation with those of the later Celtic period of northern nations; and{402}this view is confirmed by the discovery of similar swords in the ditches of the fortress of Alesia, where a conflict had taken place between the Romans and Helvetians when it was besieged by Caesar. Less striking to the eye, however, is the connection between the productions of the bronze and of the iron age; but our author remarks:
"There are, indeed, some forms of implements which remind us of the previous age. But, on the whole, when the Marin objects were made, iron had taken full possession of the field, and all the implements, including ornaments, which could be made out of iron, a metal both firmer and more pliable, were manufactured out of this material. But the form of these specimens had in some measure undergone a change, for the working of iron is a totally different matter from that of bronze; and the hammer of the smith and the moulds of the founder cannot produce the same forms. The remains of the settlements of pure stone, bronze, and iron ages indicate, therefore, epochs of civilization among the inhabitants, separated by long intervals, while the end for which the lake-dwellings were erected—namely, the security of person and property—and their construction remained the same."
Of the religion of the lake-dwellers there is no certain information; but some relics made of stone and pottery, somewhat crescent-shaped, found in bronze-age settlements, Dr. Keller thinks may be representative of the crescent moon, and, therefore, probably objects of worship. According to Pliny, the Druids gathered the mistletoe with great solemnity on the sixth day of the moon; and hence it is inferred that the moon images were sacred emblems, having power to avert and cure diseases. This, however, is but a fancy, for it does not appear from Caesar that the Celts worshipped the heavenly bodies.
The fauna and flora of the lake-dwellings afford interesting information to naturalists, and throw some light on the questions as to the origin, the development, and distribution of species. During the stone age, thebos primigeniusandbos bisonwere abundant, but they disappear after the introduction of metallic weapons; the former is now only found on the marshes of the North Sea. A very large ox, with great semilunar horns, bent forward from the frontal plane (bos trochoceros), and which had been contemporaneous with the mammoth and hippopotamus, appears to have been domesticated at Concise and Chevreaux. It is now extinct; but the marsh cow (bos brachyceros), which was most abundant in the stone age, has continued to exist to the present time, and now occupies the mountainous parts of Switzerland and its wild mountain valleys. In the earlier periods, several races of swine ran wild, which were subsequently domesticated. The fox was abundantly eaten; but the hare was not used for food, even the traces of its existence are few; neither domestic false, nor rats, nor mice appear. Wild animals predominate in the stone age, but they gave way in subsequent period. to domestic animals.
The seeds and other parts of plants lying in the lake mud, or buried under several feet of peat, have been so well preserved, that their characters can be determined. The small-grained six-rowed barley and the small lake-dwelling wheat (triticum vulgare antiquorum) were, from the earliest period, the most generally cultivated of farinaceous seeds; and, notwithstanding the rudeness of the husbandry implements, the quality of the produce was apparently equal to that of modern times; the spelt (triticum spelta), now one of the most important cereals of Switzerland, did not appear till the bronze age; while rye was entirely unknown, thus showing a connection with the countries of the Mediterranean, the lake colonists having the same cereals as the Egyptians. Cakes of unleavened bread have been found, made of millet and wheat, which had been baked on the hearthstone in the dwellings. Barley seems to have been used boiled or parched; but as corn-crushers and mealing-stones have been found in most of the settlements, grain had been extensively used for food The latest settlement, dating backward{403}not less than 2,000 years, and the older going some 3,000 years and more further backward still, it is interesting to observe what change this long lapse of time produced on plants:
"The dense, compact wheat and the close, six-rowed barley have undergone no perceptible change, yet it must be confessed that most of them agree with no recent forms sufficiently to allow of their being classed together. The small Celtic beans, the peas, the small lake-dwelling barley, the Egyptian and small lake-dwelling wheat, and the two-rowed wheat, oremmer, form peculiar and apparently extinct races; they are distinguished for the most part from the modern cultivated kinds by smaller seeds. Man has, therefore, in course of time produced sorts which give a more abundant yield, and these have gradually supplanted the old varieties."
With wild plants the case is different:
"The flora of the lake-dwellings announces to us that all the plants which come in contact with man become changed up to a certain point, and man participates in the great transformations of nature, while the wild plants, which surround us at the present day, still grow in the same forms as they did three or four thousand years ago, and do not exhibit the slightest change."
The final abandonment of these lake-dwellings, about the beginning of the Christian era, would result from an improved civilization and a more united and orderly state of society; but how long before that time they had been occupied has not yet been definitely determined; our chronology is still relative rather than absolute. Peat has accumulated over some settlements, but as its rate of growth varies under different conditions, we are only told by it that the stone-age dwellings lasted many centuries. At Robenhausen peat moor, there are remains of three settlements of the stone age, one over the other; two of which had been destroyed by fire, and the last had been abandoned, probably on account of the increase of peat. Between the first and second settlement there are three feet of peat and one foot of other deposit, both containing relics; between the second and third settlements the deposits are the same in character and sickness, and over the last dwelling are two feet of peat and half-a-foot of mould; so that during the stone age there had been a slow growth of eight feet of peat, and the deposit of three and a half feet of other matter. Other means have been used to obtain more definite results; the most remarkable of which is that of Professor Morlot, who from an examination of a cone of gravel and alluvium, connected with deposits of the stone, bronze, Roman, and recent periods, and gradually built up by the torrent of Teniere where it falls into Lake Geneva, concludes that the age of bronze has an antiquity of from 3,000 to 4,000 years, and that of stone from 5,000 to 7,000 years—no very startling estimate, when we remember the high antiquity which has been assigned to the drift and cave men.
Of the physical characters of the lake-dwellers, Dr. Keller gives us little information; that they had small hands is probable from the shortness of their sword-handles. Few human bones, and those chiefly of children, have been found. No crania of the stone age have been seen, but a few out of the bronze period, one of which from Meilen differs little from the skulls of the existing Swiss. It is, therefore, mainly from the relics found that we can form any guess as to the origin and relationship of the lake-dwellers, and by those it is shown that they belonged to the very people who at the same time lived on the mainland. Dr. Keller concludes "that the builders of the lake-dwellings were a branch of the Celtic population of Switzerland, but that the earlier settlements belong to the pre-historic period, and had already fallen into decay before the Celts took their place in the history of Europe."
The history of the lake-dwellers opens a hopeful prospect for those races who are now in a degraded condition; for here they start with a low degree of civilization, and yet there is a gradual rise upward to that point where great skill was reached{404}in metallurgic and other arts; but even this was only a step onward to that high cultivation of intellect and morals among their descendants the Swiss people. Why should not other races pass through the same stages, especially when influenced by intercourse with modern civilized nations?
I hear a faltering footstepCrossing the matted floor,And a little knock low downOn the panels of the door.A small hand is upliftedTo raise the iron latch,And entrance claimed in a silvery toneNo nightingale could match.Away with books and papers!Enter, my fairy bright;Sweep the dim cobwebs from my brain,And let in air and light.Close the dull portals of history,Unclasp that magic doorThat leads to the jewelled cavernsOf fiction and fairy lore:The legend of Cinderella,Of knights and maidens small.Of princely frogs and pigmy dogs.And my lady's golden ball.Good-night, my white-robed enchantress.My blue-sashed, sunny-haired muse;Perfection thou art, from that topmost curlTo the tips of thy dainty shoes.Watch her well, angel-guardian!Pray for her, crowned saint.That when the time for the cross shall come,Her spirit grow not faint;That she may go to her last reposeWith a heart unspotted by sin—That this face of lustrous purityMay mirror the soul within.
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I always had a great veneration for the disciples of Esculapius, but never so as when my considerate doctor decided that a sea voyage was absolutely necessary for my my health. Being unblessed by those sweet cares, a wife and children, I determined to show my obedience to his commands, and at the same time to ratify my long-cherished plan of visiting the old world. Be reassured, readers, I have no intention of harrowing your gentle spirits by a description of sea-sickness, nor of wearying you with my experiences at custom-house or railroad dépôt, but desire to transport you at once to the good little watering place of V——, which had been recommended to me as the very place for the exorcising of that tyrant devil, dyspepsia.
It was a lovely evening in July that I took a carriage from D——, for the said watering-place, for railroads have not as yet invaded the primitive simplicity of the village; hotels have, however, and much to my satisfaction I found myself, after a charming hour's drive, seated in a cozy room with an excellent dinner before me. My Hostess I soon discovered to be quite a character; a raw-boned, fast-talking Frenchwoman, with a suspicious darkness on her upper lip. When I had finished my repast, this worthy dame informed me that it was the custom of all good "Seigneurs" to repair to the beach after dinner; so giving me my hat and cane, she showed me the way, and I in all obedience departed.
The moon was then full, and cast a deliciously deceptive light on all around; even the wretched huts wherein the French peasantry contentedly huddle, mellowed by its light, looked picturesque and quaint. Looking around, I found that the village nestled between two hills, and that I was at the moment in the principal street, which cuts it in two, and from which smaller streets diverge in all directions. Tempted by the quiet of the evening I turned from the main road, and soon found myself in one of the prettiest winding lanes imaginable; at that quiet hour, with the moonlight streaming through the interlacing trees, I know of nothing more charming than a walk along the winding paths which form a network around the village; what in the day time might be simply pretty, borrowed from the lovely night a charm and mystery that was irresistible; and so I wandered on, a luxurious feeling, half melancholic, half pleasurable, soothing my spirit, until I was abruptly reminded that all things sweet in this life are short, by finding myself at the end of my pretty lane, and once more landed in the village street. Here my landlady's admonition was brought to my mind, by seeing several parties of red-hooded, red-cloaked personages all going one way; these were evidently some of the good bathers, and them I followed. In a few minutes I found myself in quite a small crowd of strangers, who made the beach look like a gaden of poppies. I, who had formed my ideas of watering-places from Newport and Long Branch, looked in amazement at this beach, which is nothing more or less than a break in the high white cliffs, which stretch on either side at far at the eye can{406}reach; however, though small, it seemed convenient, and I looked at the rippling water in eager anticipation of the morrow's bath. Seating myself on the stones, which form a poor substitute for the firm white sand of Newport, I proceed as is my custom, to observe my companions, and from their trifling actions to form an opinion of their different natures. A number of groups attracted my attention, but as I merely discovered that the ladies of the parties were industriously occupied in trying to out-babble—talk it hardly was—each other, and that the men carelessly reclined near them smoking, in utter despair of otherwise making use of their mouths, I was beginning to think that there was not much food for my observations, when my attention was suddenly arrested by the familiar sound of a few English words. Turning around, I saw at a few steps from me a party which I had not yet observed. The centre figure of this new picture at once arrested my attention; evidently this lady considered herself of great importance, for she was laying down the law to the various persons around her, with a volubility that a French woman only can attain. Her dress was an extraordinary caricature of rural finery; it was a pity, I thought, that the face under that peculiarly youthful, flower-ornamented hat, should be that of a plain woman of fifty. Her court was principally composed of various feeble imitations of herself, but my attention was soon entirely occupied by two figures at the extreme verge of the group, a young lady and a gentleman; the young lady seemed to be giving an English lesson to her listless companion, who appeared almost too indolent to turn around in admiration of the girl's sprightliness; a second glance convinced me that I was near one of my own countrywomen; the delicate profile, fragile form, and rather nervous manner could belong to none but an American. My interest was now excited to the highest pitch, for when an ocean rolls between a man and his country, all that reminds him of that country has an irresistible charm, especially when that something happens to be a pretty girl. But my observations were cut short, for the whole party arose a few minutes after, and left the beach. I soon followed, and learned from my voluble landlady that I had been observing fellow-boarders; that the strangely attired lady was the most important personage of V—— that she patronized sea-bathing every summer, and that she rejoiced in the name of Madame la Baronne d'Agri. The handsome young monsieur with the beard, proved to be her nephew, and the "Charmante Americaine" was with with her mother, an invalid for whom sea air had been ordered. Then followed a long description of the other members of the party, a Mr. and Mrs. Poirier and their daughter, by young artist and several other personages, to which description I fear I was but indifferently attentive.
Next morning it rained—rain forming a part of nearly ever day's programme, as I afterward discovered. Not yet having become hardened to the fact, I was dolefully looking from the hotel door, vainly endeavoring to discover a patch of blue sky, when I was joined by Madame la Baronne's nephew. Remarks on the weather were followed by a polite offer of a cigar, whose genial fragrance soon induced a more interesting conversation. A few chance words brought out the fact that my young companion was quite an amateur chemist, and as, in my college days, chemistry had been a sort of passion with me, we were soon launched in an animated discussion. I was much interested to hear what rapid strides the French had recently taken in that and other positive sciences. From chemistry we passed to politics, philosophy, and finally religion. While listening to this young man's clear, strong exposition of his sentiments on these various subjects, I found myself wondering at this, to me, new, new phase of the French character, as unlike the light,{407}frivolous, gay-hearted Frenchman of the novel and stage, as possible. I must say it pleased me even less; the down-right scepticism, the well-turned sophisms, the extreme materialism, were easily traced to the teachings of Voltaire. I am well pleased to think that this young man is the representative of but a comparatively small class, but unfortunately that class is composed of much of the brain of the country, and consequently carries with it great influence. On all American questions M. Louis d'Agri (for so the young man was called) showed a curious interest; of our great war his opinion had been biassed by Southern influence—not unnaturally, since his only American associates had been from that portion of our country; these associates had also given him their ideas on the subject of slavery, but a few facts, put in the simple, plain way which seemed best to suit his turn of mind, convinced him, or seemed to convince him, that, in that particular at least, his judgment was in error. He asked many questions on the present state of affairs in our country, of the possible future of the South, of the treatment of Jefferson Davis, etc., etc., all of which I answered apparently to his satisfaction. Indeed, not only in his case, but in many others, I have noticed that there is a great curiosity felt about everything American; to tell the truth, I think that the war brought to their minds that a vast and important country really does exist on the other side of the broad ocean, a fact of which before they were but dimly conscious. Even now, the strange ignorance of our customs, people, and especially our geography, even among the educated classes, would bring forth the astonishment and indignation of any American fifth-form school-boy. The French are singularly devoid of our go-ahead qualities in everything; they travel but little, and being perfectly convinced that France is the only country of any real importance on the globe, trouble themselves but little about any other, especially should that other be separated from them by an ocean.
From American politics we turned to those of France, a subject which brought out the young man's most bitter anathemas; dissatisfied with the form of government, with the people, and especially with the emperor, he expressed himself with much more freedom than any other Frenchman I had yet conversed with. Most of them answer any objections with a shrug of the shoulders, and a furtive glance about them; they often praise the emperor for the good he has done their beloved Paris, but with an air which says: "I like not the man, but admire his sagacity." Very few Americans, however, could have expressed more republican, more anti-aristocratic sentiments than M. d'Agri, who, as I learned afterward, is the last direct representative of a decayed but noble house. On all religious topics he proved to be an utter sceptic, avowedly believing in nothing, and regarding as either knaves or dupes all those who did not stoop to his own degrading materialism: singular that a mind so clear should be so perverted. We had merely broached the last subject, when the ladies of the party, enticed by the sun which was beginning to brighten the sky, descended, and proposed going down to bathe. M. d'Agri, advancing toward the young lady I had observed the night before, said:
"Mees Fannee, I have just been having an interesting conversation with a countryman of yours."
The young lady's face brightened, and with a frankness that is certainly a charm peculiar to American girls, extended her hand, saying in English:
"Is it possible! Americans in a foreign land can scarcely be strangers!" and so, from that moment, I was considered as one of the party. Mrs. Hayne, the invalid mother, I found belonged to that rather extensive class of ladies who, from having some slight{408}nervous ailment, nurse and pet it till it grows to be a real malady, which makes them fretful, wrinkled and miserable. As we walked to the beach I was made the honored recipient of the good lady's woes, and being a tolerable listener was immediately taken into her favor.
We found the beach already lively with the indefatigable bathers, who seize on all tolerably sunshiny days to search for health in the luxurious water. Several groups of people, who either had bathed or were going to bathe later, were seated on the stones, watching with interest the extraordinary looking figures that emerged from the long row of cabins. Notwithstanding my eagerness for a good swim, I stood for nearly half an hour watching also; many of the ladies who went into their cabins majestic in width of skirt and flowing drapery, emerged from them reduced to a mere ghost of their former grandeur. To all whom it may concern, I give it as my decided opinion, that oil-silk caps and scant bathing dresses are generally not becoming, and that a young man must be of a peculiarly susceptible disposition to become enamored of these sea-nymphs.
One thing let me observe, there is a regard for personal safety here of which we are too devoid. I noticed in the water two black-clothed individuals, whose only business seemed to be to exercise those ladies and children who did not swim, so that they might not catch cold; to give lessons to beginners in the noble art of swimming, and to have an eye to the safety of the bathers generally. When the bath is over, the well-cared-for person is well wrapped up and hurried to the cabin, where a hot foot-bath is in readiness; to this latter arrangement I give my most cordial approval.
As I turned around, after these various observations, intending in my turn to appropriate one of the cabins, I was met by Madame d'Agri, who, in an eccentric bathing-dress, was tripping down to the water. Stopping me, she overwhelmed me with voluble patronage, assuring me that her nephew had spoken of me in the highest terms, and that all his friends were hers; and finally pointing to the largest cabin on the batch, over which the family arms floated ostentatiously, informed me that in that cabin they often retired from the vulgar herd, and invited me, whenever I felt annoyed by the plebeians around me, to join them, that a chair would always be at my disposal. Bowing my thanks, I beat a hasty retreat, out of breath for very sympathy.
After my bath, which I enjoyed as only veteran swimmers can enjoy it, I sallied forth to verify or destroy the impressions my moonlight stroll of the night before had given me. To some extent, at least, they were destroyed; in the moonlight the low, thatched huts —cottages they could scarcely be called—looked picturesque; in the broad daylight they looked simply squalid; dirt and discomfort reigned supreme. In many of these huts there seemed to be but one, unfloored, wretched-looking room, serving as kitchen, bedroom, and parlor, to a swarming family of dirty children, with their dirtier parents. Yet I an told that many of these peasants, who are content to live in these hovels year after year, and subsist on crabs, periwinkles, and such trash, are often comparatively well off, some of them being in actual receipt of rents amounting to ten and fifteen thousand francs a year; but as their fathers live so do they live, and the natural consequence is that they are an ill-favored, withered-looking set. I looked in vain for a fresh, blooming girl, there seemed to be no age between twelve and fifty; even the children looked withered, and the old people were fairly bent double; yet they lived on, contented enough, because dreaming of no other possible life, and enjoying the bustle of an occasional fête with a zest which our more phlegmatic people would disdain. While making these{409}reflections, I again found myself in one of those charming lanes which had so pleased me the night before. These, at least, were unspoiled by the misery around; what a blessing that man cannot degrade nature, however he may degrade himself! By my side murmured and gurgled the prettiest little brook, dignified here by the name of "petite rivière," which I ever saw; clear as crystal, swift and cold, it lends beauty and freshness to the whole country around. An American farmer would laugh at the tiny stream scarcely more than a mile in length, but an artist would revel in its beauty.
And so, what with bathing, walking, driving, and chatting, time passed quietly but pleasantly at the little village of V——. Meanwhile I grew more and more interested in watching my companions, especially two of them; I often found myself, while seeming to listen to the Baronne's endless tales of her house's past grandeur, or to poor Mrs. Mayne's recital of her troubles, closely observing my young countrywoman and M. Louis d'Agri. Knowing as I did his ideas on serious subjects, and feeling, too, the influence which a mind like his, strong, cool, and calculating, could scarcely fail to exercise over a sensitive and impulsive nature like hers, I found myself growing more and more uneasy. Evidently accustomed to that sort of flirting and freedom which is entirely prohibited to French girls, Miss Hayne delighted in taking her lazy cavalier unawares, and obliging him, with the most innocent air possible, to give up his dear comfort—now to fetch a chair, again to hold her worsteds while she wallowed them; a sort of treatment to which the gentleman was evidently unaccustomed, and which, perhaps for the very novelty of the thing, seemed to create not an unpleasant sensation. But, on the other hand, he was fond of bringing out all her girlish and unsophisticated ideas, and quietly leveling at them his battery of cold-hearted sophisms, in order to destroy them one by one; at first she would battle bravely, but an impulsive girl, untrained to analyze her own convictions, has but a poor chance against a clear-headed, determined man, and I noticed, with pain, that after every such discussion she would seem uneasy and depressed. Then her opponent would lazily settle himself in his chair, and allow his rival, the young artist, whom I have strangely slighted heretofore, to bring his gallantries into play. This young man was a sort ofprotégéof Madame d'Agri's, and an entirely different type of man from Madame's nephew; all the arts and graces, compliments and "petits soins" which the latter despised, M. Dubois employed with true French art. He had from the first been struck by Miss Hayne's pretty face, which he sedulously introduced into all his sketches, paying her, whenever he was permitted, most unremitting attentions; but I noticed that, though the native coquetry which seemed to be this girl's principal fault, induced her to encourage him, a word, or even a look from M. Louis d'Agri, would draw her away from him to the piano, or oftener to the chess-board, where she invariably received severe lectures on her neglect of the rules of that noble game. You may, in the mean time, wonder what became of the other young girls of the party, for there were several; they looked atMees Fannee, and her freedom of speech and action, in ill-concealed horror, and remained near their mothers, chattering fast enough among themselves, but scarcely venturing to answer "yes" or "no," when addressed by their elders, especially if those elders happened to be of the other sex. Indeed, M. Louis informed me in confidence that his young countrywomen, "s'ennuyent bien, et ma foi! elles ennuyent joliment les autres" before marriage, but after—bah! and an expressive wave of the hand finished the sentence.
One morning as I was lounging about, thinking with a certain degree ofennuithat doing nothing was, after all, the hardest sort of work, I was met{410}by Madame d'Agri, who accosted me with one of her sweetest smiles.
"O Monsieur! I was just wondering where I should find you—so delighted, really so charmed—you must go with us, indeed you must! now, no excuse; positively I will accept none; this time you must allow my will to be law."
"Madame, I am your most obedient; but in what particular am I required to show my duty?"
"Mon Dieu! and have I not told you? what a giddy thing I am; indeed my poor husband" (whom I am sure she talked to death) "always said I was giddy! We are going to C——, where there is to be a fête, and on the way we can see see a chateau or two, not much, you know, but pretty well for these degenerate times. Yes, we are all going—that is, no, not all, for poor Madame Hayne has the migraine: dear! dear! how that poor woman suffers! So the charmingMees Fanneehas accepted me as her chaperone—interesting girl, is she not? Well, as I was saying, Madame Hayne has the migraine, and Madame Poirier has the toothache and will not that her daughter go without her; so the party will be reduced to Madame Duchemin and her daughter,Mees Fannee, my nephew, M. Dubois—has he not a charming talent—and myself; and you really must join us—plenty of room I assure you, plenty of room. We shall go in one of those vehicles they call an 'Americaine'—I fancy it got its name from the hospitality with which it holds so many people—so like your delightful country!"
After some little delay occasioned by the ladies, who, as might be expected, all forgot something at the last woman's, we started. It was a fresh, breezy morning, just such a one as to excite high spirits, and make one appreciate every trifling incident. The road was excellent, indeed it made me blush for some of our own ill-made, ill-kept roads; but of this I said nothing, for every American feels bound, when abroad, to represent all concerning his country "couleur de rose." The scenery was charming; nothing perhaps striking and grand and vast, like the scenery we are most accustomed to, but a pleasing alternation of hill and dale, with well-cultivated fields, villages nestling in groves of fine trees, and above all occasional glimpses of the blue ocean, to delight the eye and to give one a genial and pleasing sense of the beautiful, without calling forth rapturous, and let me add, fatiguing expressions of admiration. When we reached the first chateau we all agreed that we were tired of the "Americaine," and that it was absolutely necessary for our happiness to wander about for half so hour or so.
"M. d'Agri!" exclaimed Miss Hayne "you once promised me a sketch; here is my album, and yonder chateau is the very subject for a drawing; so, sir, please, to sit down and obey my command."
"Obedience was never my principal virtue,Mees Fannee, and I feel particularly lazy this morning."
But a little imperious gesture, accompanied by a half smile, had their effect, and the young man, perhaps too indolent to make further objections, took the proffered album, and seeking the softest grass-plot, sat down. I noticed that the artist, of whose arm the Baronne had taken possession, looked around angrily, as though this time M. d'Agri were in reality trespassing on his ground; but that gentleman, himself quite a clever draughtsman, proceeded with most imperturbablesang froid. The view he chose was really pretty. The chateau, a large, irregular edifice, stood at the end of a noble avenue of horse-chestnuts, whose broad leaves made a dense shade; the country immediately around was charming; a little stream somewhat resembling that of V——, only larger, was seen in the distance, wandering through shrubbery and trees, until lost behind a hill which rose more abruptly than most of the hills in this part of Normandy. On the other hand, fields of wheat and oats extended for some{411}distance, ended by a dark belting of woods; not far from us stood one of those large wayside crosses so often seen in Catholic countries, near which a shepherd was tending a flock of sheet.
When the sketch was finished Madame d'Agri came up, and admiring it loudly, thankedMees Fannee, with many caresses, for having made that lazy nephew of hers exert himself, and during the rest of the ride showered even more than her ordinary share of condescensions on the young girl. This brought to my mind various other trifling circumstances, and I said within myself: "French titles are often accompanied by French poverty; this girl is rich, and Madame la Baronne knows it. I will watch."
It was late in the afternoon when we reached the village; leaving our tired horses at the inn, we walked to the market place. Here, a number of booths, gay with flags and ribbons, stood temptingly displaying their wares; most of them were filled with second-rate, but highly colored china, for which unlucky wretches were induced to try their chance, through the agency of a particularly dirty pack of cards. Gambling on a small scale, for pieces of dusty gingerbread, seemed to be another favorite mode of parting with sous. On the other side, the beating of drums and clanging of cymbals announced that in a certain tent the unsophisticated mind could be rejoiced by extra-ordinary theatrical representations for the moderate sum of three sous; dust, noise, and bustle reigned supreme, and the peasant's in their holiday clothes seemed to be at the very height of enjoyment. Altogether it was a gay and picturesque scene, but I was content to view it at a respectful distance. Not so Madame d'Agri; she patronized the peasants, who looked at her eccentric costume in bewildered admiration; chucked the children under the chin, scolded the parents, and in short acted out the "grande dame" of the fête to her heart's content. As night approached, a large building in the centre of the place, used, I believe, as a sort of flour dépôt on market days, was lighted by Chinese lanterns and flaring tallow candles; here the youth of both sexes enjoyed a rollicking, laugh-abounding dance, to the sound of a cracked fiddle. Madame was just insisting on forming a quadrille of her own, to encourage the peasantry, who, by the way, seemed but little in need of encouragement, when her nephew represented to her that we should not get home till late as it was, and that the moon would not serve after a certain hour. Reluctantly she yielded, and we settled ourselves once more in our "Americaine," tired but pleased. The conversation was soon monopolized by M. d'Agri and Miss Fanny, who, whatever might be their fatigue, always seemed to have some point of dispute.
After this excursion my vigilance increased, and my observations were not pleasing; two or three little circumstances brought out in M. d'Agri's character an insensibility to the pains and sufferings of others, and a certain cruelty of thought and action, which, notwithstanding the interest his fine intellect excited in me, brought a feeling of distrust, and at times of dislike.
One rather misty day, on which but few bathers ventured into the water, I, feeling a need of exercise, determined to enjoy my customary swim. The cabin I happened to take stood next to the large one of Madame d'Agri. When I returned, dripping and glowing from my bath, I noticed that the lady was seated in it sewing, and that her nephew was lounging by her, reading the paper. As I was luxuriating in the delicious feeling which I believe sea-bathing alone can give, I was startled by a few words which came distinctly to my ears; so far the conversation had not risen above an occasional, monotonous hum, but suddenly I found myself in the awkward position of a forced listener, as the thin wooden partition proved but a slight{412}obstruction to the heightened voices of the speakers.
"My good aunt, let us not broach that subject again."
"My good nephew, I must and will; the welfare of our noble house—"
"Fiddlesticks!" (this is a mild translation.) "Listen rather to this account of the transactions at Vienna.
"Louis, you are mad. If you will not be moved by higher considerations, think at least of your own comfort—that comfort that you love so well. You are poor, too high born to work, what then is left you but a wealthy marriage?"
"There you have touched my only vulnerable point, my comfort; but then, my dear aunt, what becomes of your aristocratic scruples? would you have the noble blood of the d'Agris contaminated?—"
"But, Louis, Americans are not like others; it is true they do say her father made his money in commerce, but then, I read somewhere or other that Americans consider themselves all as sovereigns; besides, we want money, and if it is said that you married a foreigner, people will not trouble themselves about the origin of her money-sacks, as they would if she were the daughter of a French roturier. Come, my boy, be reasonable; remember that you are the last representative—"
"I remember, rather, that champagne is dear, and so are cigars: what do you want of me?"
"I want you to marry this rich girl; no hard task—you seem to like her well enough—"
"My good aunt, everything in life bores me. When I was a child, my playthings bored me; later, school and college proved almost intolerable bores; my rank bores me; Paris bores me, the country still more so; society is an insufferable bore, but above all, French girls bore me. Now, thisMees Fanneeis original or seems to me so; she stirs me a little with her quickness, her coquetry, and heroutréideas. But remember that has not yet lasted long; a few weeks more, and she too probably, will bore me—and then for a whole lifetime . . . good aunt, that is a consideration to make a man tremble!"
"Nonsense, Louis; yon will have to marry some time or other."
"Yes, I suppose so; but French girls are brought up with a becoming sense of the submission due from wives to husbands; now, this girl would prove rebellious I know, and, however democratic I may be in my theory of the government of nations, my theory of the government of the 'menage' is that of despotism. Besides, I have a remnant of humanity left in me, and would not condemn that bright young creature to the misery of being my wife; no, no, let her marry some Quixotical American, who will place her on a high pedestal and pass his life in admiring her and letting her henpeck him."
I could not help smiling at this resume of an American husband's chivalric devotion.
"Very well, you will pass your life as you have commenced it; you will deny yourself all sorts of luxuries because they are expensive; that Rembrandt you covet so, will remain unpurchased; you want to travel, but you will stay at home, because travelling costs money; and finally you will marry some girl as poor as yourself, or with a dôt, which she will spend, together with more than half your pittance, in buying silks and satins to outshine Madame this or Madame that—"
"Hold!"
"On the other hand, you might, by marrying this charmingMees, decorate your house with pictures and statutes, go everywhere, see everything, and take your place among the enlightened patrons of art and science; all this you reject because you are afraid this littleMeeswill prove stronger of will—"