ITALIAN ALPS..
MR. FRESIIFIELD has probably been right in thinking that the time has come for giving to the public more information than can be found in mere guide-books concerning that beautiful portion of the Alpine regions which lies immediately to the north of the Italian lakes, and is bounded on the west by Switzerland and on the east by Tyrol ; and also in concluding that he is the • Sketches in the Mountains of Ticino, Lombardy, the Trenttno, and linetia. By Douglas W. FreshIleld. London: Loogmans, Orson, and Do.
best person to impart such information. His love for the Italian Alps, and his seven years' intimate acquaintance with them, give us security that their beauties will not suffer by his description of them, and he claims fairly enough that from so old a traveller we need fear to meet with no undue exaggeration of their merits. It is impossible not to sympathise with him in the painful struggle which has terminated in the resolve to admit the travelling public into the secret of that sequestered Paradise, which, frequented for so long a time only by a few chosen spirits, has seemed to belong almost as much to them as to its natural inhabitants. With what horror does he contem- plate its invasion by his natural enemy, the tourist ! Still, feeling that an incursion is not only imminent, but actually desired by the people, who are making roads and building hotels on purpose to lure the gold-bestowing Briton from his customary haunts, and induce him to turn aside from the St. Gothard, the Spliigen, and the Stelvio to revel in the delicious region where "Italy and the Alps meet lovingly," and form a combination which it would indeed be difficult to surpass, he resolves that since some book-making wanderer is certain before long to seize upon so favoured a spot, he will at least have the satisfaction of forestalling him ; and the result is a very pleasant book, in which the author may almost be said to break new ground.
Of course we do not mean to aver that the Lombard Alps were a terra incognita! But of the number of travellers who each year visit Lake Maggiore, how many are there who are acquainted with the net-work of beautiful valleys behind Locarno, with their vines and orchards, their chestnut-clad slopes, their picturesque villages, and their background of snowy peaks ? Which of them, as a rule, has ever heard of the Val Masino, with its splendid Punta Trubinesca, its grand Monte della Disgrazia, and it baths, which though in themselves far from inviting, afford the quaint spec- tacle of an Italian Kur Ort, and are also placed in a unique and fascinating situation ? And as to the Bergamasque mountains and valleys, the Adamello and Brenta groups, the passes of the Primiero, and the formidable Pebno, few indeed have been the enterprising persons who have disturbed their solitudes. And yet year after year people will follow each other like sheep along the beaten track of Chamouni and the Bernese Oberland, which, beautiful as they are and ever must be, are becoming anything but con- genial to the lover of peaceful communion with nature.
The Italian Alps, not having been as yet invaded save by the adventurous few, still offer to the traveller that great desideratum, entire change, not merely of scene, but of habit and sensation, which is, of course, completely lost to him who suffers himself to be " personally conducted " all round the world, amid a panting crowd of his countrymen and women, whose greatest exertions are directed to the carrying their own house perpetually about with them, like the snail. Wherever they go they are obsequi- ously waited on by a number of money-making hirelings intent upon doing everything, as they suppose, in English fashion, so that instead of having the chance of rubbing off even the smallest portion of national prejudice, and divesting themselves of a modicum of British self-esteem, they find themselves at every step presented with a wretched attempt at English comfort and a wretched substitute for English manners.
Mr. Freshfield tells us that his desire is "to frame a friendly invitation to those who know how to travel, which shall not allure the crowd who tour," consequently he does not fail, while describing the beauties and delights of his favourite Italian Alps, to give due weight to the drawbacks in the matter of transport and accommodation to be found amongst them. At present, he or she who desires to visit the lovely scenery which Mr. Freshfield so charmingly describes, must be prepared not only for a good deal of agreeable "roughing," but in many cases for less agreeable extortion. It is true that occasionally a peasant may be found who disdains to accept payment for the delicious milk, brown bread, and fruit which he is able and willing to pro- vide ; but stimulated by that to him rare sight, an English traveller, who like all his countrymen is doubtless made of money, the innkeeper, whose usual guests are his own impecunious countrymen, resolves to make a harvest, and is often capable of demanding five francs for a bed, and payment for all else in pro- portion, unless a bargain has been made before partaking of his in- terested hospitality. Sometimes, indeed, the Alpine Boniface goes so far as to charge each loaf and dish separately, and not only so, but also to enumerate boot-blacking and warm water, although the "servizio" and "portiere" figure as notable items in the bill. Sometimes the poverty of the village is such as to render it unable to afford adequate supplies to the hungry English wanderer, and an amusing story is told of a brave German landlady who, under
such circumstances, was known to invade the sacred precincts of the presbytery, and actually carry off the fowl destined for the refection of the luckless parish priest. Some of the osterie, how- ever, described by Mr. Freshfield seem to be not only replete with all needful comforts, but at the same time perfect studies of the picturesque, such, for instance, are Signor Bonapace's inn at Pinzolo and the one at San Nicolo, which forms a resting-place before ascending the Pelmo; the latter, indeed, with its spotless chambers, looking down to Forno di Zoldo and up to the fantastic Dolomites, must be quite a charming spot for a few days' halt.
Although Mr. Freshfield frankly confesses to a frequent "lan- guishment for skies Italian," and owns that after a week's hard mountaineering amid ice-clad summits he delights to plunge amongst the vines of Val Sesia or Val Canonica, it would be a great mistake to allow the reader to suppose that his book deals. entirely, or indeed principally, with what to the Alpine Clubmita would be the enervating atmosphere of these fruitful and flowery regions. By no means. Although this writer allows himself to give such a fervid description of Bignasco and the Val Bavona as to inspire the reader with the most ardent desire to look upon their charms, and although he always dwells with delight upon the "opal-coloured waves of atmosphere which are beating up- against the southern slopes of the mountains, the soft and varied foliage, the frescoed walls and far - gleaming cam- paniles of Italy," his book contains plenty of adventure, and adventure, too, of no trifling nature. The ascent of the Pre- sanella was first made by Mr. Freshfield and Francois Devouassoud in 1865, and the mountain had until that time been considered impracticable ; the next year he conquered the Adamello, the Bedole Alp, and the Card Alto. Speaking of the former, he says that the view was perhaps the most beautiful, although not the most extensive, he had seen from a snowy Alp. Mr. Freshfield utterly deprecates the idea that in the mere scaling of a peak consists the charm of an Alpine expedition, although he is as. much alive as any man to the pleasure of setting one's-self to conquer a difficulty ; and if he philosophises a little over his sen- sations when "man- is merged in nature," and "the barren ice- field is seen to water a thousand meadows, the destructive torrent to fertilise a whole province," and "the evil of the world seems for once contained within the good," he may be forgiven on the score of his keen artistic appreciation of the beauties and wonders which surround him.
One of the most striking of Mr. Freshfield's illustrations, which are numerous and well executed, is that of a portion of the ascent of the Pelmo. The mountaineers are seen roped together, making their way along the groove where for more than a mile their- only foothold is "a ledge no broader than the sill which runs underneath the top-story windows of a London square," while the precipice below runs sheer down without the slightest projection for a distance equal to twice the height of St. Paul's Cross above the pavement, in addition to which the head- room is so insufficient that at times the climber is obliged to crawl on hands and knees. The affair is described as like walking along the mantel-piece with the cornice coming down upon you,—and must be, one would think, rather more agreeable in the recollection than during its accomplishment. And yet a lady ascended the Pelmo, and speaks of having surmounted a succession of such ledges, although the route which she chose was somewhat different. The maps which accompany Mr. Freshfield's volumes are one of its distinguishing features, being most carefully executed, and most minute in their designation of each peak, hamlet, and valley. Some of these maps are from the as yet unpublished south- eastern sheet of the Alpine Club map of the central Alps, and will prove a great boon to the traveller who may hasten to respond to Mr. Freshfield's enticing invitation to select the Italian rather than the Swiss valleys for the next summer ramble.
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