BEAUTY SPOTS OF 111.E CONTINENT.*
WE have long ceased to wonder at any extravagance of which an author may be guilty in the matter of title. The idea seems to be, both with writers and publishers, that so long as the name of a book is likely to attract attention, and cause it to be taken
I• Beauty Spots of the Continent. By H. Baden Pritchard. London: Tinsley Brothers. up and looked at, not only need it have no perceptible connec- tion with the contents, but it may be as outlandish and ungram- matical as possible ; nay, the wilder the better. We have lately seen the name of a notable building, provided with a convenient ism, stand godfather to a set of principles, and so far as we are aware, the grotesque invention did not even provoke a smile. In the present instance, Mr. Baden Pritchard writes a book which, were any logical inference to be drawn from its title, should be about some of the ugliest things in creation, and when we peep into its table of contents, we find that his " Beauty Spots " are some of the choicest little gems of Continental resort,—of resort, that is to say, within the reach of him who has but a limited holiday at his command. When we say that he calls the Saxon Switzer- land, the Bavarian Highlands, the Pyrenees, and the Fjords and Fjelds of Norway" beauty spots," we-shall have made the reader understand that he has entirely reversed the common acceptation of the term, intending to speak of real beauty, and not of an ugly thing put on to heighten that which is of somewhat doubtful quality. But we have expended too much time upon ridicu- lous titles, which are, after all, probably a mere calculation of pounds, shillings, and pence, and may proceed to notice the con- tents of the volume.
The first "beauty spot" enumerated by Mr. Baden Pritchard is the woodland district of Thuringia, of which Eisenach and the Wartburg, Wilhelmshohe, Inselsberg, Rudolstadt, Gotha, and Weimar are so many tiny centres, whence you can radiate amidst the lovely surrounding scenery, and where—unexpected felicity for the day in which we live—" Mr. Cook's tickets would no doubt be indignantly refused!" A district which still preserves such an immunity from what ought to be called "Tour-ism," and which contains "forest primeval," as well as romantic old burgs upon mountain tops, quaintly picturesque towns, delicious flowery valleys, and withal, quite a sufficiency of the comforts of this life, must be, at least in summer, a veritable paradise. Railway journeys in that primitive part of the world must be at first rather amusing, the traveller finding himself under the care of an ober- schaffner, or head guard, " with an inch or two of silver em- broidery about his collar, and whose rank might be that of a colonel or brigadier-general, so imposing is his deportment ;" the under- schaffners, station-masters, and clerks being grand-looking indi- viduals who wear swords and epaulettes, with blue uniforms slashed with silver, and have plenty of time to converse with the passengers and take a friendly interest in their welfare. All this must be a surprise to the Briton, accustomed to his own more expeditious, if slightly precarious, mode of travelling.
If a man can make a satisfactory meal upon German-sausage and potato-salad, does not object to find his bread strongly flavoured with aniseed and fennel, and is a good walker, he may spend a fortnight or three weeks very pleasantly in the Bavarian Highlands,—that is, in the Bregenzer Wald, the Voralberg, and the Algiiu district,—visiting the lovely little lakes, climbing the mountains, and enjoying the pastoral beauties of South Bavaria. Lermos in particular is a very pleasant quarter whence to make .excursions, and Hohenschwangan is another charming centre, where there is also a good inn. But Mr. Baden Pritchard speaks with especial pleasure of Mittenwald, near the Karwendel Moun- tains, a spot which has acquired such a reputation for the manu- facture of stringed instruments, that, as he says, " to see the number of families engaged on the work, one would think that all the fiddles in the world came from this little place." His descrip- tion of Mittenwald is most enticing :-
" Those who would see a grand forest of firs in perfection, clothing steep mountain-sides with dark drapery, and covering the landscape as far as the eye can reach, should visit this charming woodland district ; so dark and cool is a stroll tinder the drooping pine-branches, that one seems to be wandering in a mighty cave, with its vaulted roof festooned with green, the river Isar adding further freshness to the scene. And not unwelcome is this cold retreat, after a morning spent in climbing over the grey cliffs in the bright sun, or ascending some adjacent peak to get a view of the mighty Wetterstein and Karwendel ranges, which are here seen at their best."
From Mittenwald it is an easy march to the Scharnitz-grand, one of the passes into Austria, situated amidst scenery of the wildest and grandest character. Thence the traveller can pro. seed if he likes into Tyrol, and accordingly Mr. Baden Pritchard next describes the oft-mentioned Ziller Thal, and passes on to the Stelvio, -which he considers one of the grainiest routes in Europe. In the mountain villages of Tyrol it seems that the parish priest often plays the part of landlord, gladly entertaining the traveller, and even himself assisting to cook his modest supper, for which, however, he allows him afterwards to settle with his housekeeper ; the good man, although intelligent,
friendly, and given to hospitality, being but little better off as to worldly goods than the peasantry for the sake of whose souls he dwells in these isolated regions.
It is unnecessary to accompany Mr. Pritchard to Norway. Every one knows that once you leave your steamer or your yacht, as the case may be, and attempt to cross the country, you must travel by carriole, sleep in stuffy huts, and unless you take some- thing else with you, live upon fladbrod and smoer (the uninviting term for butter), rye-meal porridge, and chips of dried mutton or reindeer ; and it is not every one who would consider himself repaid even by gloriously grand scenery for subsistence on such penitential fare. But to him who is above such considerations, such a visit to " Gaulle Norge" as is here described, one which includes the making acquaintance with the kind-hearted, simple people, stopping at their farm-houses, learning their customs, and wandering over the apparently endless moorlands and amid the snow-clad mountains and solitary lakes, must be full of charm.
Mr. Baden Pritchard is quite right in wishing to see travel made an element of English education. Why should not our youths and students go abroad under the charge of a master or professor, as do the Germans and the French ? It certainly would do them no harm to find out early in life, "that there are other people quite as worthy and as important as themselves in the world," and with the greater number it would probably have that effect, although our Yankee cousins, who do this sort of thing a good deal, even sending young ladies out en masse to im- prove their minds, generally contrive to turn all they see to self- glorification. No doubt boys do, as Mr. Pritchard says, intui- tively learn a good deal from travel ; " they get to estimate, by comparison, the calibre of their own countrymen and the towns and cities at home ; and most important of all, they see at once the advantages of a knowledge of foreign languages." But these foreign tours, as we make them, are expensive pleasures. We must learn to travel as do the people of other nations before vacation trips can enter largely into our educational arrangements, since, as the matter stands at present, the greater number of parents would not relish such an addition to the already heavy item of school bills. There is, however, no reason why this should not be done, and it is quite certain that if people would only think so, they would de- rive a greater amount of pleasure and far more benefit to health, by discarding for a time those comforts and luxuries without which many persona believe they would be utterly miserable, and rather than forego which they deprive themselves of the sight of many of the grandest scenes which a very moderate exercise of self-denial would place within their reach. Mr. Pritchard's little book is entirely made up of holiday rambles, and is, of course, only a collection of sketches, pleasantly written, indeed, but mere indications of what the traveller who follows him may see for himself. He has a thorough appreciation of the beauties of nature, and can better enjoy him- self on a Pyrenean mountain-slope covered with buttercups, than amid the fashionable gaieties of Eaux Bonnes. The Spanish shepherd and his beautiful white dog, "something like a New- foundlander, but of more formidable pretensions," come in for due notice ; as also the peculiar custom of hitting an errant sheep with a bit of earth, which the shepherd digs up by means of a small trowel attached to a long pole, and carries for the purpose, instead of the orthodox crook. The excursion to the Salzkammergut is one of those most pleasantly sketched, and it includes also a peep at the Gastein valley. The Italian lakes, which are the subject of Mr. Pritchard's last paper, get very scant justice ; it were better, indeed, to have left them out altogether, than to give them such meagre notice. Every one, it may be said, has seen Como and Maggiore, but why write at all, unless one has something to say? And beautiful Garda, which is much less visited, and which deserves, as well as the country about it, to be better known, is passed over altogether. However, Mr. Pritchard's little book, with its ugly, incongruous title, is a good little book in its way, and may serve to indicate to the intending holiday-maker many a pleasant direction in which to bend his steps.
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