"Ha! right welcome, Monsieur Thevenet! exclaimed the portly gentleman, who was no other than Sir Charles Temple: "do not be offended with me if I resume my seat, but my cursed wooden leg is always in my way. In all probability, my worthy friend, you are come to ascertain if my hour of conviction has arrived?" "I am here as a fugitive from my native land, and claim your protection." "You must take up your abode with me, for, of a verity, 'you are a wise man. By this time, Thevenet, I should have been Admiral of the Blue, if this infernal wooden leg had not incapacitated me from serving my country. Here am 1 reading in the papers, news of the most stirring kind, and cursing my stars that I can take no part in all that is go. ing on. Come, say something consoling to me." "Your excellent lady is far better adapted than I to play the comforter." "Don't mention her. Her wooden leg hinders her from dancing, so she has devoted herself to cards and scandal; there is no possible deal. ing with her but she is a good enough woman in her way." "Then after all, I was right?" "Most indubitably so, my dear Thevenet; but enough of that. I committed an egregious blunder. Had I but my leg back again, not a nail-paring of it would I part with. Between ourselves, be it said, I was a fool; but keep this piece of truth to yourself." SPRING. OH, joyous spring! thou hast brought once more Herald of summer! thou comest forth Alas! there are hearts which never more But not for the dead we'll mourn. Thy bloom J. A. BROWNE. ON POPULAR AND NATIONAL POETRY.-No. II. SWITZERLAND. BY CHARLES MACKAY. THE natives of an extensive plain, however great their love for the land of their birth, and their respect for its laws, seldom cherish towards it that intense affection, which is felt by those who are born amid the more magnificent scenery of mountain and valley. The natives of the former are more attached to the institutions and the men, the latter to the soil of their country. Thus the Switzer, who has so little nationality, who lends himself out to fight for the highest bidder, and who does not know patriotism in its most rational sense, loves his native hills with a fervour of enthusiasm which neither time nor circumstances can destroy. This character is impressed upon all the popular minstrelsy of Switzerland. There is little or no poetry of Swiss birth which expresses any attachment to Switzerland from political causes: their songs do not curse or satirize the oppressor; they do not even exult in the glory of their illustrious countrymen. While in Scotland the honoured names of Bruce, Wallace, or John Knox, create a glow even in the heart of a cow-boy or a pig-driver; the Switzer of the same rank knows little of the glorious deeds of William Tell; and if he has heard the name of Calvin, he has never inquired whether he were a Swiss or a Tartar. The Scotch ploughman knows the locality of Bannockburn: but the Swiss drover cannot tell in what canton is the field of Grütli. But to make amends for this indifference to the great men of his country, the Swiss peasant doats upon every inch of the ground of his own village, and celebrates in simple and touching songs the delights of his mountains, his glens, and his lakes. Nearly all the popular poetry of Switzerland is of this pastoral character, descriptive of natural scenery, rural occupation, and the loves of the peasantry. Among these the Kühreihen stand in the first rank, and claim the first notice. The French call them Ranz des Vaches, and in English they may be called "cow-songs," although the derivation of the phrase, both in French and German, seems to be from the words "Reihen," and "rang,"-a rank, or drove,-making the literal translation "Cow. ranks." The cheese and butter of Switzerland are the greatest sources of its wealth, at least as far as the peasantry are concerned, and the cow is regarded by them with peculiar fondness. Their best songs are sung in its praise, and their finest music is employed to call together the herd scattered upon the hills. Such travellers as have not journeyed in the beaten highway of English tourists, but have turned into the byways and villages to make acquaintance with the manners of the people, describe as a most pleasing scene the return of the cows in the evening from their mountain pasture. The cow-herd, with his long Alpine horn, seated upon a commanding spot among the hills, sounds the plaintive melody of the kühreihe, and the animals, obedient to the summons, slowly leave their pasture, grazing as they come, and marshalling them. selves around him, are led down to the villages. The music of all the kühreihen is sweet and melancholy, and the tones of the horn, re-echo. 66 ing from crag to crag, and from hollow to hollow, are well calculated to increase the pleasurable effect of the melody. Every district has its peculiar kühreihen. Thus there are the "Kühreihen of Oberhasler,” of "Siebethal," of " Emmethal," of "Entlibuch," of " Appenzell," of "Guggisberg," and of "Zwinger," in the German districts; while in the French districts there are the Ranz des Vaches of the " Ormonds," the "Ranz de Joral," the "Ranz of Mount Pilate," the " Ranz of the Gruyère Alps," and one or two others. There are also two which are common to nearly all parts of Switzerland, the " Kühreihen zum Aufzug auf die Alp im Frühling," or the call of the cows to the hills in spring; and the "Kühreihen zur Abfahrt von der Alp im Herbst," or the farewell to the mountain in autumn. Besides these, there are several others, the airs of which, not being employed to call home the cows, do not come under the appellation of kühreihen, but which, being connected with the cow, may be classed under the English term of cow-songs. Most of these describe the pleasures of a drover's life, and his courtship with the milk-maids on the hills. Others again are calculated for female singers; for the lass of many lovers, and for her, more faithful, who has but one; but all bearing some reference to the cow. No marriage is ever contemplated without taking the favourite animal into the calculation. The effect produced on the minds of the Swiss by these songs, when they are far from home in a foreign land, is so powerful as to bring on a deep melancholy, which nothing can remove but the sight of their native glens. It is well known that in Napoleon's army, where many Swiss were serving, he was obliged to issue strict orders that the Ranz des Vaches should not be played by the regimental bands. Although they were good soldiers, the thoughts of home, inspired by the music of their childhood; took such an effect upon them, that they deserted by scores, and went home to Switzerland. No punishment could restrain them; the fear of an ig. nominious death had less terrors for them than the prospect of long banishment from their beloved Switzerland. If they had been fighting in defence of their country, the music would doubtless have nerved their arms to deeds of heroism; but they were fighting for hire only, in the service of a foreign power, and the recollection of home, being dearer than the hope of reward, they forsook their colours without remorse. The ranz which thus unmanned them was the "Ranz des Vaches des Alps de Gruyère," or of the canton of Fribourg. The words are in the French patois of the district, and, as the reader may think one verse curious as a specimen, I subjoin the first, together with a trans. lation of the whole ballad. It runs thus: "Lé z'armaillis de Columbetta Ha! ah! Ha! ah! The chorus repeated at the end of every stanza is Vinide toté, It Rodz' et montailé, Io ie treintzo! Lioba! Lioba! por l'aria! Lioba! Lioba! por t'aria!" may be necessary to remark that the words Lioba! Lioba! which recur so frequently in the following, are used as a term of endearment to the cows. Being altogether untranslateable, I have preserved the original word. It is prononnced in two syllables, and in some districts of Switzerland is written Loba. 'Send me a weighty, fine fat cheese, 'If you send us down your servant lass, Lioba! Lioba! your milk to draw !'— 'My servant lass I cannot spare; Ha! ah! |