TALES OF LA GRUYERE. * LA Gm:xi:az, known to the general
public only for its excellent cheese, which enjoys a world-wide reputation, is one of the most interesting:districts of the Swiss Romande—as Switzers -denominate the non-German-speaking Cantons—a verdant country of fertile valleys, running waters, and wood-crowned • Pierre Seioberet : Nouvelles Scenes de is Vie Citampiltre. Lausanne: Lucien Vincent. 1884.
heights, of quaint chalets, venerable churches, and ivy-mantled belfries. As touching education and intelligence, the people of this country are considered to be far behind such enlightened communities as Geneva and Lausanne ; but they are an honest, hard-working race of yeomen, among whom poverty is almost as rare as wealth, shrewd in business and courteous in manner. They possess a sonorous and musical patois, rich in ballads and ranz des vaches. hey have not quite left off the picturesque folk-dress of other days ; and old legends, and tales of ' the foreign wars in which their forefathers bore a part, are still told on long winter nights, when the work of the day is done, and men and maidens are gathered round the huge kitchen stove. The manners and customs—we might almost say the innermost thoughts — of this simple folk of La Gruyere have been revealed to those who have read his stories —and who in the Swiss Romande has not read his stories ?- by Pierre Scioberet, himself a native of Canton Fribourg, and of the little land he describes so well. What Erckmann- Chatrian have done for Elsass, what Bitzitts has done for the Emmenthal, that has Scioberet done for La Gruyere. To read him is to know La Gruyere. In his pages the romantic land- scape rises before us in all its beauty ; we are on the Alps with the herdsmen, we go to church with the country yokel and the village belle, make the acquaintance of the village care and the village justice, of the decayed gentleman, relic of the time when Fribourg was ruled by a pastoral aristocracy, and of the am- bitious peasant who aspires to parliamentary honours. All is told with a realistic force and a truth to nature that come only of loving sympathy and conscientious study. It has been said of Scioberet that he has turned into literature the music of the ranz des vaches. Yet, albeit some of his sketches are idyllic in their beauty, he has neither ignored the sordid side of rural life, nor spared the faults of his beloved peasants. Being a faithful artist, he gives us complete pictures, and complete pictures must at times be as painful and sad as the human nature with which they deal. Nevertheless, out of the Swiss Romande, Scioberet is little known. The French do not like him, partly, perhaps, because he has not paid them the compli- ment of writing about France ; and while too special for one class, he is too natural, without being either coarse or immoral, for another. His peasants are not sufficiently theatrical for readers whose taste has been formed by the novels of Balzac and George Sand, and his style lacks the finish which is the only sure passport to the favour of French critics. Another reason why Scioberet's fame is not more widely- spread lies in the scantiness and incompleteness of his work. All that he has written might be compressed into three small volumes ; none of his stories are long, and the last, and as some think, the best of them, _Denney et Tapoley, stops abruptly in the middle, and the denouement is left to the reader's imagination. Scioberet was a poor man, and having to earn his bread as a private tutor in Russia and elsewhere, he could not afford the luxury of writing largely for so small a public as that of the Swiss Romande. Perhaps, too, like many another imagina- tive writer, Scioberet found it easier to conceive than to execute. In the domains of science, history, and politics, genius may, as has been said, be an unlimited capacity for taking trouble. Yet imagination is a gift, not an acquisition, and the poet or romancist must begin by conjuring up in his mind the images and incidents which he afterwards embodies in a story or an epic. The truest artists are not always the hardest workers ; it is seldom that the highest measure of creative power and a capacity for hard and, continuous labour are united in the same individual ; yet, unless they are so united, it may be doubted if anybody, however richly endowed, can achieve work which shall win him lasting fame.
The first story of the Nouvelles Scenes is entitled, "Martin, the Sawyer," and the opening scene, though as simple as pos- sible, bears throughout the stamp of genius. A young girl is leading a cow to pasture on a morning in spring, one of those mornings when the sun has just risen, and Nature puts on her most radiant look. The mountain air is fresh and crisp, the meadows are gemmed with dew-drops, and pied with violets, primroses, and daffodils ; and all is so bright and joyous that both the girl, who calls herself Antoinette, and the cow, who is called • Mirovi,' are wild with delight. And what a cow !—large and handsome, with a black muzzle, a white star on her head, great soft eyes, and gracefully curved horns. Uncle Toby, who had bought her from the syndic of Nerivue for fifteen louis and. a pot of wine, was
prouder of his cow than of his wife, "who had cost him nothing, and was not half as good-looking." So greatly was Mirovi admired, that a "highly-placed man" had offered to get Toby made a member of the Communal Council, if he would let him have her, at any price be liked to ask. And the post in ques- tion, though little lucrative, was intensely respectable, and con- ferred upon its incumbent some important privileges. He had the right to carry the standard of the Cross at church on the fête. day of the patron saint of the village, to reprove erring women, to wring little boys' ears, and even to strike his equals without risk of being hit in return, the person of a Communal Coun- cillor being (half a century ago) as inviolable as that of the President of the Republic. But Toby was proof even against this temptation, and he refused to let Mirovi go. No wonder that a beast so highly prized should be a little frolicsome on a fine May morning, break loose from Antoinette, and refuse to be recaptured. What the girl would have done if Martin, the Sawyer, who chanced to be passing, had not come to her help, it is impossible to say. As it happened, too, he came just in time to pick up the girl (whom Mirovi had overturned), and catch the cow. Antoinette thanks him warmly for his kindness, and, after a brief exchange of commonplaces, they separate. As the reader has already divined, these two are the hero and heroine of the story. Martin lives half-way up a mountain, in a little chalet brown with age, and shaded by a magnificent cherry-tree. Hard by is his saw-mill, turned by a water-wheel, and save for Barnaby, a drunken ne'er-do-weel, to whom he gives food and shelter out of pity, he lives quite alone. For Martin is the black-sheep of the village ; he is a great reader, has been heard to speak disrespectfully of the Church, does not go to Mass, and the car6, who objects to reading on principle and prefers a drunkard to a sceptic, has alluded to him un- pleasantly in public, and held him up as an awful warn- ing in private. The men fear that his presence may bring a curse on the village, and the women could not be more spiteful towards him, if they had been a nest of wasps disturbed by a mischievous boy. But Martin, who had -a mocking spirit and a kindly heart, minded his business, and took no heed of their buzzing. Antoinette, however, had -spoken to him pleasantly, and it was quite natural that he should want to cultivate an acquaintance so agreeably made. But how? Meet her at church he could not ; his appearance in the sacred building would have been resented, both by the cur6 and villagers, as a deadly insult. So he went instead to the veillee, a sort of soirée, held. on Sunday evenings in the villages -of La Gruyere, generally in a private house, but open to all. .0f course, he danced with Antoinette, and before they separ- ated she knew that he loved her. Now, Antoinette was an orphan, and she lived with Uncle Toby, her guardian and the trustee of her little fortune, and his wife, and they treated her worse than a hired servant. All day long she had to slave in the house and about the farm, and when she complained was answered by blows. All the same, they wished her well after their fashion, and if they had been let alone, might not have objected to their niece being betrothed to Martin ; for if he did not go to church, neither did he frequent the public-house, and nobody could deny that he was respectable and well-to-do. But they were not left alone. It did not suit the parson's pur- pose to allow any marriage to be arranged without his interfer- ence; he hated Martin, and was determined that no lamb of his sock should be carried off by the unbelieving sawyer. So, when it came to his ears that Martin had danced several times with Antoinette at sundry veillies, and was evidently courting her, he had a serious talk with Mr. and Mrs. Toby, and convinced them that the man for their niece was not Martin, the Sawyer, but Big John, whom the author describes as "rather heavy, rather stupid, and rather gross, yet very amiable in com- pany, for he neither takes the most comfortable easy chair at the inn, nor tries to monopolise conversation at the fireside, never makes jokes at which people are expected to laugh, and is utterly incapable of telling either a story or an anecdote. He does not make too much noise when using his pocket-handkerchief, site quietly in a corner, and is altogether a charming young man." It is true that when provoked he can be very violent, that he takes his drink without water, and eats enough for four; but these little faults are more than outweighed by his many good qualities. And having a fortune which renders him almost independent, mothers with marriage- able daughters look upon him as a desirable para. When the curd tells him that he drinks too much, and it is high time he
married and reformed, John assents, and says he is quite willing to marry Antoinette, who is "pretty, industrious, and sufficiently rich." "But suppose, M. le Cure, she will not have me ?" he asks. "Who ? Antoinette ! Don't trouble yourself. I charge myself with that ; go !" answers the priest, and the other went.
At first, Antoinette declines Big John's proposal point-blank, but badgered by Uncle and Aunt Toby, urged by the Cur6, and neglected by Martin, she ends by consenting. Martin neglected her, because a great misfortune, "which imperilled both his fortune and his honour," had befallen him. A kins- man with whom he had gone bail for a loan made default, and the sawyer was forced to find the money. If the creditor would have given time, Martin might have met the liability without serious embarrassment ; but the former, being a conservative and under the influence of the cur6, he insisted on the pound of flesh, and after much trouble and worry, Martin succeeded in raising the wherewithal, though on very onerous terms, and discharging the debt. When he hears a rumour that Antoinette is betrothed to his rival, he goes down to the village one night after dark, hoping to see her. While he is waiting outside the house, Gros Jean comes up, and asks him insolently what he wants; hot words are exchanged, and a Homeric battle follows, in which the village Hercules, despite his superior strength, is worsted by his smaller but nimbler antagonist. This event did not, however, hinder the marriage, and Martin, though he affects indifference, is bitterly disappointed and deeply hurt. For a month or two, John made a passable hus- band; but it was not long before he began to frequent the auberge as much as ever, and he answered his wife's remonstrances first with oaths and then with blows. Ere the year was out his conduct became so insupportable, that she had to take refuge from his violence with Uncle and Aunt Toby, and at their instance she obtained a decree of judicial separation fol. a twelvemonth. One day during this period, as Antoinette was passing Martin's mill, she was overtaken by a shower, and at his invitation sheltered there until it was over. This coming to the ears of her husband, he grew furiously jealous, and bribed Barnaby, whom Martin had befriended, but who would have sold his soul for a bottle of brandy, to watch Antoinette and the sawyer. On a certain evening, not long afterwards, Barnaby brought word to Jean that his wife "was there," whereupon both hurried to the mill. After waiting for O. while in hiding, they see a woman, whom both erroneously believe to be Antoinette, come out of the mill. Jean, followed by Barnaby, makes for the door, pushes it suddenly open, and before Martin recovers from his surprise he is hurled violently backwards, and his head coming in _contact with the saw, killed on the spot. When Martin's body is found next morning, his death is naturally ascribed to accident, and albeit the discovery of foot- marks near the mill throws some doubt on this theory, neither Barnaby nor Big John is suspected. The hate of the cur6 extended beyond the grave ; he would not allow Martin's body to be laid in consecrated ground. Nobody, save his old house- keeper, attended the funeral of the man who had been banned by the Church ; but the day afterwards, a magnificent garland of flowers decorated his grave. None knew who had put it there, but many thought it was Antoinette. Her husband, after drinking away nearly all his fortune, enlisted in one of the Swiss regiments serving in Naples, where, for striking one of his officers, be was condemned to the galleys for life.
This story, as will be seen, deals with the darker side of peasant life ; but far from being all gloom, it abounds with shrewd observations, humorous touches, and charming bits of description. The second tale, "Cohn l'Airmailli" (" Colin the Herdsman "), is altogether bright and idyllic, and makes a romantic and charming love-story. M. Scioberet's chef d'cettere, "Marie la Tresseuse," does not appear in the volume under review. So far as we are aware, none of Sciob6ret's stories have been published elsewhere than in Switzerland, or in any other language than French ; but it might probably be worth the while of some enterprising pub- lisher or magazine proprietor to reproduce the best of them for the benefit of English readers.
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