VALLEY OF MERAN.--IN THE TYROL.

No. 211 - THE PENNY MAGAZINE - July 18, 1835

VALLEY OF MERAN.
--IN THE TYROL.

THIS valley, through which the rapid river Adige descends, is celebrated by all travellers in the Tyrol, as presenting some of the most picturesque and romantic of scenes. It is the principal of the lateral valleys of the country; but being little frequented by strangers, it is as delightful for the primitiveness of manners and appearance of its inhabitants, as it is for the beauty of its scenery and the number of its castles and towers which crown almost every insulated eminence. On entering this valley on the Italian side, and going by Botzen, or Bolsano, the tourist has to find his way through a perfect labyrinth of streams formed by the Adige which divides itself into many separate channels, and not unfrequently overflows them all. But about four miles above Botzen the ground rises, the valley improves, and near to the old straggling town of Meran it puts on all its beauty. At that point it seems to terminate, for the mountains, closing in on all sides, leave no visible passage for either the river or the road. A sudden turn, however, opens both, and the traveller goes on through a luxuriant and highly-cultivated country, until the encircling mountains again close in, and puzzle him as to how his future route can lie. Near to the town of Meran the arrow-like Passeyer falls into the Adige, and some twelve miles up the valley of the Passeyer stands the simple but much-honoured house of the patriot Hofer. Villages, hamlets, cottages, and mills, are thickly scattered through nearly the whole of the Meran district, and pure, sparkling rivulets, in some beautiful places forming cascades, and everywhere imparting verdure and coolness, tumble from the mountains and the hills to join the roaring Adige.

These numerous rivulets and brooks form a distinguishing character in the scenery, and the Tyrolean peasants, who have great mechanical ingenuity, avail themselves of them for a variety of purposes, besides those of irrigation, uniting and conducting their narrow threads into one good water-course, which may drive a sawing-mill, or a flour-mill, or otherwise economize labour, by a cheap and never-failing water-power.

Mr. Rohrer, a German traveller, who wrote an account of the Tyrol about forty years ago, says that on going one day into a peasant's cottage he saw nobody there but a child in a cradle, and that to his great surprise the cradle kept rocking just as if the mother or some other member of the family were there to rock it. In seeking for the cause of this regular and constant movement, he found that a cord was fastened to the cradle,--that this cord went through a hole in the wall of the cottage, and was carried to a shaft which was set in motion by a wheel that was turned by a little streamlet.

Another distinguishing feature in the scenery of the valley of Meran arises out of the singularly-picturesque manner in which the peasants arrange their vines, carrying them on trellices over the high road, as represented in our engraving, and at times continuing this most refreshing and poetical canopy of fruit and leaves for very considerable distances. Mr. Inglis says, that on leaving the town of Meran, a great part of the road lay under a lovely vine-bower of this kind, the plants being trained overhead, and only here and there admitting limpses of the blue sky. The Count de Bray, a French gentleman who informs us that he made six tours in the Tyrol, and each tour with an increase of enjoyment, compares these shady, close avenues to tunnels, and adds, (what will readily be believed) that nothing can well be pleasanter than travelling through them during the glare and heat of summer. Near the villages, they are always kept very neatly; and here, after the toils of the day, the old repose, and the young people take their evening walk.

In the most romantic part of the valley, about three miles above the town of Meran, there is a rugged, singularly-shaped grey rock, which is crowned by the ruins of an old castle--the far-famed castle of Tyrol (Teriolis), from which, curiously enough, the whole country is said to have derived its name. This is an object of great veneration to the peasants, who never approach it but with uncovered heads,--who consider it as the palladium of their nationality and independence,--and who regard its desecration by the French and Bavarians, during the last war, as one of the most intolerable of the evils of foreign conquest. When the country was ceded to them, the Bavarians, after partially razing its walls, sold the old castle to a peasant for 2000 florins (about 1901.); but in 1814, the people of Meran bought it, and made a present of it to their restored sovereign, the Emperor of Austria, to whose remote ancestors it belonged. It is now a curious mixture of old and new buildings, having little that is warlike in its appearance, but being decorated from donjon-keep to sally-port with beautiful cherry-trees, that grow up among its grey walls. Around it are dark wooded mountains, rocks, ravines, and thundering cataracts.

Still ascending the valley of Meran, fields of the broad-leafed vividly-green Indian corn are found to give place to fields of barley, and these, in their turn, are succeeded by open pasture-land. The traveller then finds himself in a truly pastoral and primitive country where the rocks continually echo with the lowing of herds and the bleating of flocks, mingled with the sound of running waters.

M. de Bray was particularly struck with the familiarity and amiability of the cattle. In these elevated, salubrious regions there are no gad-flies or other tormenting insects, the passers by are few, and almost invariably shephered, who always carry about them a little salt, or a species of powder composed of dried aromatic herbs, of which the cows are very fond. Accordingly as soon as they see a human being they gently approach him, expecting a little regale or present, and will put their fragrant lips to his pocket or into his hand to seek for it.

Every year these shepherds of the Tyrol send a part of their family on a migratory expedition, which is chiefly directed into Surabia, where they find employment in tending sheep and cattle. Troops of boys are placed under the guidance of steady old men, each troop having one Nestor who leads them the right road, and takes care of their interest and conduct. Every boy carries a pastroal pipe and a knapsack, with a small provision of oaten bread, and they generally cross their mountains in large companies. During the summer months they live scattered over the wide pasture-lands of Suabia, and in spite of solitude and the coarsest nourishment, they are said to be very cheerful and always honest. Towards the end of autumn the same old men conduct them back to their huts in the mountains of the Tyrol, and happy is the boy who can carry with him some ten or twelve shillings as the savings out of his summer gains. Some of these humble laborious individuals have shown great intelligence, and even genius. Peter Anick, who was a common shephered, made himself a first-rate geographer, and constructed a globe of extraordinary perfection, which is carefully preserved in Innspruck Castle. Peter also drew up a map of the Tyrol, which is said to be the best as yet in existence.

All through the valley of Meran, in addition to the many beautiful species which grow wild, flowers are diligently cultivated, and most of the peasants' houses have pots or boxes of blooming pinks and carnations on their window-soles. At the upper part of this lovely valley, the river Adige presents a magnificent spectacle, running for nearly a mile over a shelving series of rocks as a cataract, or at least as a glorious rapid. Some travellers say that these falls are far superior to the celebrated falls of Schaffhausen, and that there is nothing of the sort in Switzerland that can stand a comparison with them. Quiet, green, pastoral banks fringe on either side this fearful torrent and vast sheet of foam.