Who are the architects? Are they natives of these Alpine regions, or foreigners from the sunny side of the mountains? The trade chosen by these emigrants, is a strange choice; and a most curious circumstance it must be deemed, that natives of the loftiest Alps of Europe should be found occupied in refining the sugar produced from the burning plains of tropical countries by the labour of Africans. In the Lower Engadine, the scenery takes a much more romantic character; and there, our Traveller found himself among a people to whom his German was unintelligible. In this remote nook of the Rhotian Alps, and in some of the contiguous valleys, there still survives a remnant of a language which is neither German nor Italian, but is supposed to be that of ancient Latium and Etruria, in a form entirely distinct from that which it assumed under the Romans. More than half the inhabitants of the Grisons, Mr. Latrobe says, speak this language; and the abbey of Dissentis, founded in the seventh century, possessed, prior to the irruption of the French into this canton in 1799, a library containing many works relating to this ancient tongue; among others, a translation of the Four Gospels. The language is divided into two distinct idioms; the Romane or Cialover, spoken by the peasants of the valleys watered by the Further and Middle Rhine, and the Ladin, in use in the Engadine, which is thought to be of later origin, and has more affinity than the former with the vulgar or Roman idiom. The Romane is supposed to be a mixture of the language of ancient Etruria with the Celtic dialect spoken by the Lepontii, the original inhabitants, with whom the Tuscan refugees peaceably intermingled.

When the people of the Grisons embraced the Reformation in great numbers, the Rhetian language was made the language of the pulpit, and books began to be printed in it. The first was a Catechism, in 1551, in the Ladin idiom of the Engadine. In 1640, a translation of the New Testament appeared, many detached portions of the Bible having previously been printed. Indeed, the New Testament was translated into one of the dialects as early as 1560. The entire Bible appeared in 1748. The Romane library comprises about thirty volumes, consisting almost wholly of books of devotion; and the Ladin enumerates probably as many.' p. 33.

Had the same enlightened policy been adopted in respect to the Irish language, had that been made the language of the pulpit, instead of being tyrannically proscribed and discouraged, Popery would not now be the national religion of the Irish, embalmed in their mother tongue, and endeared by the medium through which it is taught. But England has intercepted the Reformation, and prevented its being naturalised in Ireland; and she is now reaping the bitter fruits of that fatuitous and wicked policy. Mr. Latrobe has given the Lord's Prayer in both idioms. From these speci

mens, however, we should not have supposed them to be of very remote origin; and we cannot but suspect that they will be found closely related to the Provençal, Waldensic, and Catalonian dialects.

At the Martins-brück, where the vale of the Inn opens for an instant, before it again contracts into the savage pass of the Finstermünz, the road, crossing the bridge to the right bank, enters the Tyrol. The canton or county which bears this name, comprises the central and eastern portion of the Rhotian, and the westernmost part of the Carnic and Noric Alps. Tyrol, or Teriolis, from which it takes its name, is a small place near Meran, the ancient capital, in the upper valley of the Adige, where the old counts of Tyrol had a castle. A line drawn through the glacier of the Ortler, in a direction nearly N. and s., will give a general idea of its western limits, separating it from the Val Teline, the Grisons, and the Voraarlberg. To the east, the snowy pyramid of the Great Glockner rises from its sea of ice, as the 'boundary-stone of the three provinces of Tyrol, Salzburg, and Carinthia.' The chain of mountains to the north of the vale of the Inn, overlooks the well-cultivated plains of Bavaria. From the southern declivities of the Tyrolese Alps, a multitude of streams find their way to the plains of Eastern Lombardy and Friuli.

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Our Pedestrian's route led him still to follow the course of the Inn, which winds and worms' its way through a succession of narrow clefts and savage defiles, to the romantic town of Landeck; situated in that part of the Stanzer-thal, where the more abundant and more nobly descended stream of the Inn, bursting 'through the narrow ravine, enters the valley, and mingles its waters with those of the Rosanna.' A gloomy castle, in bad repair, crowns a rugged rock on the right bank of the Inn; and a little to the right of this castle, Mr. Latrobe was surprised at finding 'the most singularly beautiful and regular Gothic struc"ture he had seen among the Alps. It has three aisles, the centre one terminating in a deep semi-octagonal apsis, with light pillars, brackets and windows of the perpendicular style, very good tracery in the latter, and an excellently groined roof. The doorways, also, are in strict harmony; and there is a purity and chasteness in the general proportion, which, says our Author, 'not all the gaudy and cumbersome trappings of a Roman Catholic interior could destroy. The position is perfectly beautiful, nor less so the view that it commands. This place forms a point of junction for the three principal roads of North

* A strikingly picturesque view of Landeck will be found in Heath's Picturesque Annual for 1832; but the church is dwarfed by the Campanile; and Mr. Ritchie does not notice it.

The

West Tyrol; that of the Engadine and Southern Tyrol, that of Inspruck and the Lower Inn-thal, and that leading, by the -valleys of Montafun and Stanz, to Switzerland and Lake Constance. Our Pedestrian's route was the second of these. Vale of the Inn increases in interest as you approach Inspruck; and near Zirl, the Martins-wand, a precipitous mass of rock, fronts the Vale, forming a buttress to the Solstein, one of the highest mountains of the range.

These precipices were the scene of a terrible combat between the Tyrolese and their Bavarian invaders in 1703; and an historical legend is connected with the Martins-wand, of which Mr. Leitch Ritchie or Mr. Kennedy would have made good use. Our Author describes better than he narrates; and he tells the story with provoking matter of fact simplicity, without any elegant exaggeration. It is to this effect. In the year 1493, the Emperor Maximilian, while engaged in his favourite pursuit of hunting the chamois on the Martins-wand, suddenly found himself upon the edge of the precipice, in a situation from which he could neither advance nor recede. At a very considerable height, the rock bends inward, and gives place to a large hollow of very singular form and depth. To attain this from below, a small footway leads gradually up through the brushwood which covers the earthy slopes to the west of the precipice; and, on reaching the angle, winds cautiously round one or two dizzy corners, and finally ascends by a steep and broken stair cut in the rock, to the landing-place under the shade of the impending masses, which hang over the hollow like a pent-house. Here, at the height of 740 feet above the Inn, is found a cavern 80 feet in breadth and 60 feet deep; now consecrated by a crucifix 18 feet in height, to which pilgrims are attracted from all parts of the Tyrol. No stair had been cut in the rock, no crucifix had consecrated the spot, when the young Emperor found himself clinging to the rock in the vicinity of this cavern, on the brink of the abyss, and sustained only by the spikes of his cramp-irons. He had wandered from his attendants; and his cries for help were for some time unheard; till they reached the ears of a peasant-girl, who gave the alarm to the inhabitants of the knoll below, and a search was commenced. When, at length, the Emperor was descried, and his person recognized, it was found impossible to render him any effective aid. After a few fruitless efforts, these loyal subjects thought that they could not do better than send off to the nearest chapel for some priests, to chant the service for the dying, while they collected together at the base of the impending precipice, dissolved in tears, and calling upon all the saints to render that assistance which was out of the power of man. The Emperor, believing his death to be inevitable, in this uncomfortable oratory made confession of his sins; and the sacred elements and valedictory

VOL. VIII.-N.S.

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oil were held up to him, that he might have the satisfaction of considering himself as having received extreme unction. The spikes of his crampons were giving way,-nothing remained for his imperial Majesty but to leave hold,-when a wild shrill cry was heard above him, which seemed not of this world.' 'I repent,' moaned the Emperor; and his hopes revived. An angel, in the shape of a chamois-hunter, was seen above, descending the face of the same precipice; and by means which, not being recorded, must evidently have been miraculous, withdrew Maximilian from the jaws of death. Mr. Latrobe cites some old German pamphlet for the statement, that his deliverer was afterwards knighted and ennobled by the name of Hollauer, 'in memory of the cry he had so opportunely uttered at the moment the Emperor was going to shrink from further effort. But this is a Protestant Version of the story, and spoils the legend. If you at this day ask a peasant girl of Zirl, what saved the Emperor, she will answer, "a good angel."

Hitherto, our Pedestrian had noticed no costumes of a remarkably graceful character. Dirty black caps, body-vestments, and scarlet stockings' prevail in the Engadine. But in the upper valley of the Inn, something of a national costume is perceived, and a singular one our fair readers will deem it.

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Among the male portion of the community, the black or green high-crowned hat with a tassel may be observed; not to speak of the chamois leather breeches. To these the more acceptable name of shorts applies to the very letter, as they seldom reach the knee. The latter is consequently bare, as the stocking is gartered below it. The women -I only speak of the peasantry-resemble as to their attire, for the most part, those of their class in the neighbouring countries, and may be distinguished from them chiefly in the three following particulars. First, the head-gear, consisting of a thick, round, dark blue or black machine, something between the cap of a grenadier and a bee-hive in form, and apparently both warm and weighty. Into this the head is inserted to a considerable depth; and I do not know to what to compare a parcel of old women upon their knees in the fields, (for so they are constantly seen,) if not to a swarm of gigantic moles. In the second place, I should notice the stockings, which are ordinarily worn without feet, shoes being also a superfluity. And thirdly, the petticoat, or petticoats; (for, to produce the effect usual, they must indeed be many ;)-- these start out from the hips with such an unnatural swirl, that, not being remarkably long, the lower part of the woman looks like a bell. Ï understand that a kind of wooden yoke or hoop is used to produce this effect. p. 47.

In the Lower Innthal, below Inspruck, the female costume becomes increasingly hideous.

From Schwatz to Kufstein, the most preposterous stockings prevail, being a long woollen cylinder of about 4 feet in length, without footing, which, after being drawn on the leg, is rolled down, and

disposed in broad round plaits or rings from the knee to the ancle, so that the fair sex seem at a distance to have been furnished with supports like those of the hippopotamus. But this is not all. It would seem that as the rattle-snake gets an additional rattle to his tail every year, so the women of Schwatz add a fresh woollen petticoat every twelve months, such is their preposterous appearance; and all being short, they fly off from the waist in a marvellous manner. woman of the Lower Innthal looks like a walking mushroom.'

An old

pp. 67, 8.

Inspruck or Inns-bruck, which has been the capital of the Tyrol since the thirteenth century, is situated on the banks of the Inn, more than 2000 feet above the sea *, encircled by mountains which tower to the height of from 6000 to 7000 feet above the plain of the Inn. To the north, the Great Solstein is seen rising above the Martins-wand to the height of 9106 feet above the sea. The Iser springs from the northern acclivity of the latter, from the summit of which the view over the plains of Bavaria is said to extend as far as Munich. In the city itself, there is not much to arrest the attention of the traveller, except the mausoleum of the Emperor Maximilian, which Mr. Latrobe styles ، an astonish'ing work of art, occupying the centre of the main aisle of the Church of the Holy Cross; and, in a corner of the same church, the plain marble flag-stone which covers the ashes of Andrew Hofer.

A peasant, but their proximity brings no dishonour to the imperial remains which repose under the same roof. It is fitting that this should be his resting-place. In this church he celebrated that day of thanksgiving which goes by the name of “ Hofer's Festival,” when, in 1809, his native country was freed for a third time from a foreign yoke, and its capital again resounded with the name of KAISER FRANZ (The Emperor Francis)! A name which, in the war-cry and the prayer of the Tyrolese, always stood linked with GOTT and VATERLAND (God and our country or father-land). How little that proud distinction was merited, the history of the Tyrol for the last twenty years will tell.' p. 61.

A well authenticated and detailed history of the war of 1809, our Author remarks, is yet a desideratum, and one which it is becoming increasingly difficult to supply.

، It was to be supposed, that the annals of France, Bavaria, and Austria would give very different accounts of this episode in their mutual warfare; but while the two former of these have written like

Mr. Latrobe says, 1325 feet above the sea; a misprint, perhaps, for 1825 feet. Madrid, which is 309 fathoms above the sea, has been reckoned to stand as high as Inspruck. Mr Ritchie makes the Tyrolese capital, however, 2124 French feet above the sea, on the authority of Zallinger. See Pict. Annual for 1832. p. 229.