II.

SECTION 5.

EXCURSION TO THE GREAT GLOCKNER.

ON again leaving Innsbrück, the traveller crosses the Inn, and takes the road up the bank of the Sill, which descends from Mount Brenner. The road climbs through fine woods and highly picturesque scenes, leaving the Sill on the left many hundred feet below in a narrow rocky bed, and the valley of the Inn is almost entirely shut out.

On entering among the mountains, a difference is at once noticed in the dress of the peasantry. The breeches, of black leather, are buttoned above the knee, and as the stockings, which are without feet, do not reach so far as the knee, that prominent part of the leg is left bare. The tapering hats with silk bands and tassels, and artificial flowers stuck in them, are constantly worn. "In other countries, ornaments about the dress of the peasantry are generally worn but on holidays, but it is otherwise in the Tyrol; the peasantry there seem to be always dressed for a holiday, for tasseled hats and artificial flowers are worn every day."

The aspect of the country soon changes; high acclivities rise around, covered by clusters of flowers, blooming in the midst of barrenness; from the road the descent to the channel of the Sill is not less than a thousand feet by an inclined plane, without a tree or a shrub. Here, as in every part of the Tyrol, images and crucifixes erected by the road-side are very numerous; within a distance of three leagues Mr. Inglis counted no fewer than fortyVOL. XXV.

seven, of which some were crosses, with the crucifixion represented in wood; some pedestals, with the image of a favourite saint; some little three-cornered boxes, raised upon poles, with representations or images of the Virgin and Child. But the cottages of the peasantry were comfortable; the inhabitants decently dressed and respectable in appearance. "Everything too appeared to be in good order; the fences well constructed, the little gardens well arranged and well cultivated, and the fields industriously laboured, so that, notwithstanding the superstitions of the Tyroleans, it would appear that these do not, as in some Catholic countries, interfere with their duties. Where men cultivate their own land, self-interest will generally battle hard against superstition."

From Schönberg to Brenner there are five leagues of constant ascent. The scenery becomes wilder, and less inhabited, as the road ascends; the rivulet rushes by, a mountain torrent; and the woods diminish in extent and height. The small village of Brenner, situated at an elevation of about six thousand feet, lies at the point where the descent on the southern side begins. The highest summits of the Brenner are not visible from the village, but a view of them may be obtained from a neighbouring pinnacle. A dazzling field of snow covered all the upper part of the mountain, so that the ascent would have been difficult, if not dangerous; and, besides, as it was impossible, from the geographical position of Mount Brenner, that the prospect from the summit could reward the labour of an ascent, Mr. Inglis abandoned the idea of undertaking such an expedition. On the northern side of the pass is the little lake, from 770

which the Sill descends into the valley of the Inn. To the south of the village is another little lake, the source of the Eisach, which, after being joined by the Rienz, unites itself with the Adige at Botzen, and traverses the whole of the lower Tyrol. The valley into which the traveller was now preparing to descend is sometimes called the valley of the Eisach, and sometimes the valley of Sterzing. The morning was beautifully clear, and although it was midJune, several pools of water were covered with ice. All the way to Sterzing the Eisach is but a brook foaming in its narrow channel; at Sterzing it is joined by one or two tributary brooks, and hurries away towards Brixen. Sterzing is a small town, very romantically situated in a little open spot formed in the valley; a castle on a neighbouring height overlooks the town. There is a curious contrivance here to prevent the heavy rain, which often visits these parts, from deluging the pavement from the roofs of the houses. Water-spouts are carried from the roof quite across to the middle of the street; these nearly meet in the centre, and form two rival cascades. On leaving this place, the valley again narrows into little more than the breadth of the stream and the road: the stream continues as much a cataract as before, only more imposing from its greater size, and the scenery, although it has begun to lose a little of its grandeur, is still highly picturesque, exhibiting now and then some signs of returning softness. "By-and-bye, the most prominent features of Alpine scenery began to disappear; the trees were more varied in their kind, and were more lofty and more luxuriant; pasture was intermixed with patches of corn on the little platforms by the road side, and the cottages became more frequent; but it was still mountain though not alpine scenery, which conveys an idea of a higher elevation. The rocks were gigantic and precipitous, and the descent almost as rapid as it had been from the summit of the pass, and where an opening allowed more than the immediate banks to be seen, height rose above height, and mountain was piled on mountain." On approaching Brixen the mountain rivulet becomes almost a river; the ravine widens into a valley, and cultivation again assumes her dominion. Brixen is a small town, beautifully situated at the confluence of the Rienz and the Eisach. The vine begins first to be seen here, but the country is as yet too upland to procure much celebrity for the wine, which, however, is made in considerable quantities. The vine is cultivated with much economy of land; it is planted in wooden troughs, or mangers, at intervals of about four yards; an arch is formed with twigs, across from one to the other, and the vine, therefore, forms a bower above, while the ground beneath produces grain of one kind or another; they have, therefore, a double crop from the land, with only the deduction of the first outlay. The effect of this manner of planting is singular, and certainly gives great richness to the landscape; but the thick foliage of the vines preventing the access of the sun to the crops beneath, must be injurious to them. Upon the heights where vines are cultivated, walls are built intersecting the hills exposed to the soutlr, so that by the reflection of the sun's rays the climate of the vine is made

wariner.

Brixen is described as a dirty inanimate town of 3200 inhabitants, with several churches, and the palace of the archbishop, none of them worth notice.

Proceeding along the valley of the Upper Drave our traveller arrived at Lienz, the frontier town of the Tyrol, adjoining Carinthia, from whence he started on a mountain ramble, north of the town, towards the Great Glockner. There are two routes, one ascending the river Isel, the other seeking the valley of Döllach, which lies to the east of the Isel.

Those who have ascended the Great Glockner, describe the view from its summit as being most magnificent: the whole of the valley of the Salza is laid open from its source to the city of Salzburg; to the west, the Alpine ranges, as far as the Grisons; to the east, a wide reach over the south Austrian Empire, even to the plains of Lower Styria; and to the south, looking over the Carnic Alps, to blue Friuli's mountains, Venice, and the Adriatic, the plains of Illyria, and even the Islands of Greece. But the ascent is full of difficulty and danger, and notwithstanding this very enticing enumeration, "I have long doubted," says Mr. Inglis, "whether any view repays the Labour of an ascent of the very elevated mountains, in latitudes where the line of perpetual snow is low; the last few thousand feet make the whole difference in the labour and pain of an ascent; and since equally fine prospects are to be

enjoyed from lower elevations, such as Etna, or the Pic du Midi, at ten thousand feet; or even from Vesuvius, or the Righi, one half lower, it is absurd to subject oneself to difficulties, real uneasiness, and great peril, to attain what may be attained without any of these. The fact is, no view from a great elevation will repay the adventurer, because the ascent ought itself to constitute a part of the remuneration for the trouble of the ascent. The pure air, the beautiful plants, the novel views, the increased buoyancy of spirit, are ample reward; and so long as these are not neutralized by pain, such as extreme cold, it is of little consequence, whether any further remuneration be obtained by a view from the summit; but it is a positive act of egregious folly, for one not moved by scientific motives, to endure the pain and danger of an ascent greatly above the line of perpetual congelation."

The Glockner is said to have been first ascended at the commencement of the present century, by M. Sigismund von Hohenwart, at the instigation of the Prince Bishop of Gurk. That gentleman ascended several times, and in order to facilitate subsequent attempts, two elevated châlets were erected, the lower called the Salmshöhe, and the higher the Adlersruhe. Those who propose to ascend, usually sleep at the Salmshöhe two nights, having made the ascent on the intervening day. The highest point of the mountain rises to about twelve thousand feet above the sea. The geological formation of the Glockner is hornblend slate. Gneiss, serpentine, and micaceous slate, with many beautiful marbles, abound in the adjoining chains.

We now change our travelling companion, and follow Mr. Latrobe in an excursion to this celebrated mountain. Accompanied by a very slow guide, that gentleman proceeded on an exploring expedition to the glacier of the Great Glockner. The route lay up the valley, over a very steep break, which forms the separation between the cultivated vale, upon the sides of which stand the church and village of Heiligenblut, and an upper division, consisting of broken ground, roughly interspersed with forest pasture and rock. The mountain torrent precipitates itself over this declivity with great fury, and forms a fine cascade, over which, as our traveller passed, a bright rainbow was hovering in the sunbeams. In the midst of the pines and broken rock of this higher division stands the chapel, where the holy blood of St. Briccius was found, which gives its name to the village. After two hours' walking, our traveller had a full view of the great glacier; but in order to command a better prospect he proceeded towards a rocky and very high mountain, called the Gems-thumr, which bounds the glacier to the eastward, and rises directly opposite the Glockner itself. "To effect this, we had to climb the mountain side, upon which we then were, to a considerable height, descend into a deep valley over a line of pastures, and thence recommence the main ascent, which was not directed to the summit, (that lying far out of the reach of my time and present purpose,) but to a certain point upon his rocky and precipitous flank, which promised to afford a commanding view, and whence we might hope to descend with comparative facility upon the glacier. After the lapse of about an hour and a half this was accomplished, and we were now seated at some considerable elevation above that apparently flat surface of frozen snow, round whose edges rose the different portions of the middle region of the mountain. The upper portion of the glacier presented a swelling elevation, completely covered with snow, while from the opposite edge rose the precipitous and intermingled mass of rock, earthy slope, ice, and snow, that seemed to support the main and stately pyramid of the highest summit. The latter now lost that beautiful simple form that it had worn, when seen from Heiligenblut, and appeared split into two separate cones, still remaining, however, singularly pointed and finely outlined. Of its vastness, and the magnitude of the various objects covered with the uniform and dazzling mantle, the eye can take very little cognizance, unless some object come fortuitously in the way to lend it a little assistance. I was at first enabled, in some measure, to do this, from the circumstance of a chamois hunter being descried towards the upper end of the basin of ice above which we sat, traversing it towards us, a speck, and but a speck, continually hidden beneath irregularities on the surface, which to us were quite imperceptible. A further and more convincing proof or this was added, when, descending to the edge of the ice, we ourselves began to bend our steps directly for the opposite side. I had, indeed, noticed, that the lower portion of the glacier, where it began to bend towards the valley, was rent and broken into fissures, and that still lower the ice seemed

quite broken away; but we were at a much greater elevation, and it seemed that we should cross it with but little trouble. Yet, during the three-quarters of an hour's time which the passage cost us, many were the turns, bends, and the leaps in which I had to follow my guide; it may be believed I allowed him to lead. I cannot say that I just fancied some of the blue rifts, running down one knows not how deep, over which I had to venture, nor the boiling sound of hidden waters which requited the ear whenever it had time to listen, nor the ugly slopes leading down into the yawning abyss, over which you must contrive to slide without slipping; nor even the vast accumulation of earth, rock, and pebbles, that spread an uneven and unsightly mantle over a large extent of the glacier, near the foot of the Glockner itself, and which only half concealed the fissures which they had in vain attempted to fill up and level. Nor, when once more on terra firma, under the precipices of the Glockner, did I just fancy certain impending walls of very fragile-looking ice, which, at the same time that they gave a good idea of the vastness of the fields spread over the slopes, seemed to say, 'Down we come, if not to-day, at least to-morrow; the ice behind pushes us forward, and down we must:' and they were in the right; for we were not very far up the side of the mountain beyond the slopes, when with a burst of thunder, down two immense portions did come, crashing and echoing upon the glacier below. We now kept forward, descending, but keeping about the same height above the glacier, which was also bending down towards the valley. I own I was surprised, when I came to that portion where the descent was most rapid, to see the vast breadth of the fissures, and the size and height of the grotesque pyramids and spires of the disrupted portions, many certainly forty and fifty feet high; one of the loftiest of them burst into fragments before my eyes, and besides, there were crackings and intimations enough in other remote portions to satisfy my curiosity. Surely these glaciers are among the greatest wonders of a world of wonders, and I looked upon them as I gaze upon the wide-spread ocean, as belonging to those created things which man is, indeed, permitted to look upon, but not into. Who can fathom their abyss, calculate at what time their foundations were laid upon the rocks, or how long they have been moving downward towards the green valleys beneath?"

Passing over a very steep acclivity our traveller gained the corner of the mountain, to the south of the Glockner, which commanded the greater portion of the vale of Heiligenblut at a great depth below, and the whole of the opposite chain of the Thauner and Röthkopf, on the frontiers of Salzburg and Illyria. Immediately below was the ravine of the Katzensteig, which was to be descended, but to do this it was necessary to keep in a sloping direction over the flank of the mountain, for about two miles across certain elevated pastures, which rose from the edge of a line of high precipices; these deviated so slightly from the perpendicular that the position was dangerous. "The short slippery grass gave but insecure footing, and I was only made aware of my danger when, slipping accidentally, I found that without the prompt use of my alp-pole I should have shot downward with accelerating motion for some hundred yards, and gone down sheer over the precipices; as it was, I descended farther and more rapidly than I liked, and it was not without anxiety I saw the danger increase for some time instead of diminish. Three several times I came unavoidably upon my side, and was only saved by the hook of my pole in two instances, and the hand of a bare-footed peasant, mowing on the alp, in the other. My guide was anxious enough, but too insecure on his legs for me to put great trust in him. At length the soil became more stony, and of course safe, and we descended gradually to the ravine in question. My danger made more impression upon me after it was passed than at the time, for I was too busy with the momentary exertions required, to have much time for reflection at the moment; and I bless God for preserving me from such a fearful downward leap as that which I was so near taking."

The road was now sufficiently easy to be found without a guide; Mr. Latrobe, therefore, pressed forward alone towards the high ridge, which reared itself, at many miles distance, between him and the long descent to the vale, where he hoped to find refreshment and shelter. His directions were to trace the torrent rolling down the ravine to its junction with another stream, then to cross it, and follow that flowing from the right to its junction with another from the left, which was to conduct him, by going

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to its head, to the foot of the ridge which he was finally to traverse. My course to the first point of junction was rapid enough; now came the most important operation, the crossing. I scrambled down to the margin through a number of huge fragments of rock, and, after looking up and down the stream in vain search after a bridge of ordinary construction, my attention was arrested by a thin whitish line, which appeared to cross the torrent at a point where its volume was compressed between the rocks to a whirling gulf of boiling water and foam, and this I found was the bridge to which I had been directed. It consisted of two thin square slips of wood, placed side by side, but in their conjoined breadth not measuring more than six or eight inches, and extending from one slippery and uneven surface of broken rock to the other, without fastening of any kind. When the foot was placed upon one end, they rocked and separated. I have passed many a slippery and awkward tree-trunk, placed where none but the goat and the goatherd are accustomed to traverse, but this was too hazardous, and the certainty of a plunge, and of consequent destruction, so great, that I dared not attempt it. I hastily made my way up the margin for full a couple of miles, but found no place where to assay the passage. The rocky bed was steeply inclined; the torrent rushed on with the same fury; and after lingering for some time in one place, where the whole stream was compressed into a fearful 'strid,' so narrow that I slung my knapsack and part of my apparel across it, yet so wide that I shunned the desperate spring; and, moreover, having been once nearly carried away in a spot I attempted to wade, I found that I must retrace my steps towards the lower valleys, in doubt where and how I should eventually effect a passage. About three miles lower down, a shepherd at length pointed out to me a crossing similar to the first mentioned, as far as the rudeness of the construction and the dreadful under-rush of the torrent went, but happily with that single difference that the ends of the poles were fixed, and here I crossed without hesitation. **** A steep ascent of upwards of an hour, brought me within sight of the exact portion of the ridge which I was to traverse, and at the same time to a position from which I saw the Great Glockner, and his neighbours, in quite a new point of view. It here rose from a glacier of no great extent, and appeared split, near the summit, into two points, one snowy and the other bare rock. It is from this quarter that the ascent is practicable, and a quick eye may descry one, if not both, of the huts before-mentioned. The adjoining mountains presented from this side immense solid masses of fawn-coloured rock, scarcely furrowed by rent of any kind, and altogether unenlivened by herbage. The different formation of the Glockner itself from that of the neighbouring mountains, was very evident from the colour and form of its rocks."

We now take leave of Mr. Latrobe, and follow Mr. Inglis in a similar excursion. Starting from Lienz at an early hour, that gentleman reached the mountain village of Winklern, which had nothing about it of the misery so common to a mountain village. The cottages looked clean and comfortable; the little inclosures and gardens were stocked with such produce as the altitude permitted, and the pretty little church, and delicately proportioned spire, seemed to lean sweetly on the green slope.

Proceeding up the side of a stream, the traveller at length gained Heiligenblut, the highest village and nearest to the Great Glockner. This is a truly alpine village: "it seems to lie just within the limit of the habitable world. Patches of fertility lie around and before it; a deep wood-fringed ravine, with a furious torrent, and high and picturesque cascade, flank the village, and a gigantic wall of dark mountains, over which is seen the dazzling summit of the Glockner, forms the magnificent back ground of this striking panorama." On climbing an outpost of the mountains, at no great distance from the village, and at an elevation of about a thousand feet above it, all the upper part of the Glockner is laid open to the eye. The summit is pyramidical, and does not contain more than two square yards of table land. Below the peak, the fields of snow extend over all the central parts of the mountain. "The sun set while I stood on this elevation; and while the lower part of the panorama was involved in deep dusk, the upper part was steeped in deep glory,-peaks and pinnacles, as if dipped in burnished gold, and snow summits carnationed over with the rose tints that dying sunbeams cast on the world that lies nearest to them."

On returning to his inn the host, who, in common with mountaineers in general, needed no barometer to guide his

an outpost of the mountains that tower behind, but appears to have been separated from them by some natural convulsion; the castle spreads over its summit, which cannot be less than seven hundred feet above the plain. Nothing can be more imposing than the situation of this castle, or than the massive grey and time-worn ruins of the castle itself, reposing upon the side of the dark, woody mountains, with rocks and ravines and cataracts around.

Meran is an ancient town of above two thousand inhabitants. It is situated on the right bank of the Adige, near the spot where it makes an abrupt turn, and receives the waters of the Passeyer brook. It is thus placed at the junction of three valleys in one of the most beautiful spots of the Tyrol. It was the ancient capital of the country before Innsbrück, when its counts possessed little more than the valley from Botzen to the valley of the Inn, and a part of the Engadine. Their territory fell to the house of Austria, when the last of the line, Margaret Maultash, died, she having married an Austrian prince. The upper part of the Vintschgau is still called by its inhabitants the mother country,' or Das Ländl, the little land.

Meran occupies the site of a Roman station called Maja, a name which is preserved in that of the neighbouring village Ober-mays. It was destroyed about the year 800 of our era by the fall of a mountain, and by an irruption of the stream of the Passeyer. This stony avalanche is still perceptible: it appears to have pushed the stream of the Passeyer out of its original course. Remains of buildings, coins, and bronzes are being constantly turned up in the fields and vineyards. The houses of Meran are mostly built upon arcades. It is very hot in summer at this place, at which time many of the inhabitants escape up the mountains to their villas and castles. The place has suffered severely from the irruptions of the Passeyer, which have seven times within the records of history nearly destroyed it. A dyke of massive masonry has been constructed by the side of the stream to protect the town from further injury. This wall serves as a terrace, and is a favourite promenade. Four leagues up the valley of the Passeyer stands the house of Andrew Hofer, to which Mr. Inglis paid a visit. "At first," he says, "the valley is narrow, but gradually widens, though never losing the character of an upland valley; cottages and hamlets are but thinly scattered here and there; little rivulets tumble into the Passeyer, leaping from the adjoining steeps, and many gentle and beautiful scenes open among the slopes and dells that form the valley. Four hours' walk, with many rests by the river side, and upon the stones that lay in its bed, brought me within sight of the house of Andrew Hofer. The brawling Passeyer, full of large stones, runs past the house at the foot of a little stone wall, raised to protect it against torrents; a few trees grow round the house, and on either side are seen mountains, their lower acclivities inclosed, and bearing a little corn, and a small church, with a green spire, stands upon a neighbouring knoll. The house itself is no way remarkable; like most other houses in this part of the Tyrol, the entry to it is by a wooden stair outside, which leads to a little balcony.

Several targets, perforated in many places near the centre, were fixed to the wall,-evidences of Hofer's prowess in markmanship." The house is and ever has been an inn. Its sign is Am Sand (on the sand), so called from its position on the edge of a track of barren sand and pebble, deposited by the waters of the Passeyer brook.

From the bridge over the Passeyer a number of castles may be counted. Among the most interesting is the Schloss Tyrol, a drawing of which was given in our former Supplement, as also Schenna, which stands at the entrance of the Passeyer valley: this has more the character of a feudal stronghold, and is in tolerable preservation; it still retains its gates and drawbridge, its armoury and dungeons, and is inhabited.

Between this place and Botzen the scenery is most beautiful, enlivened with picturesque castles, too numerous to mention. We may, however, notice one which forms a most conspicuous object in the neighbourhood of Botzen, crowning a height about four miles to the east of the town. It is known under the name of Sigmondskrone. Mr. Inglis paid a visit to it: he says, "I passed through a succession of vineyards, mostly inclosed with stone walls, which rather interrupt the view, and which by the reflection of the sun's rays incommode the traveller, just in the same proportion that they benefit the vineyards. The height upon which Sigmondskrone stands is entirely covered with wood, through which I found a foot-path to conduct me up to the walls. I had imagined the castle an entire ruin, tenanted only by owls; but when I reached an open point, from which the gateway was visible, I perceived six or eight Austrian soldiers sitting before it smoking. The castle is garrisoned, and is used as a depôt for gunpowder. Strangers, however, are not forbidden entrance to these castles, and both at Sigmondskrone and elsewhere, I have always found the greatest civility from the military; and one is allowed besides to explore every part, without a soldier with his bayonet walking by one's side, as is inva¬ riably the custom in all the French fortresses.

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"I found the castle almost a ruin, and a most picturesque one. The massive walls, though rent, and strong towers, though shattered and tottering, attested the former strength of this stronghold, which, by its natural position, almost surrounded as it is by precipices, is yet capable of being defended. The inside courts are entirely overgrown by juniper, and in a nook of the ruin, on the outside of the wall, I recognised a fig-tree, reminding me of warmer suns and more southern lands. The view from the summit is enchanting; it commands the plain of Botzen, with its vineyards and orchards, and charming fertility, and the river and the valley, both above and below Botzen, ana the amphitheatre of lofty mountains that on every side surround the lower Tyrol. From this point the whole of the central Tyrol is commanded; from Botzen to Sterzing, north and south, and the two lateral valleys of the Adige and the Rienz."

From Botzen the traveller has before him a delightful excursion to Trent, Roveredo, and Riva. The character of