Do you know, my readers, what an alp is? Perhaps the question seems trivial to you, and you feel inclined to reply indignantly, “Of course!” Well, perhaps you are right; but still I am going to describe an alp, for it is also very possible that you are wrong. As to what an alp is not, I will begin by stating most emphatically that it is not a mountain, that it is not snow-covered in summer, and that it has nothing whatever to do with those incidents of nature spoken of in guide-books as “the Alps.” An alp is written with a small a—this is one distinction. It is a pasture tenanted in summer by cows, goats, and huge black pigs, and young men and maidens to look after the same, consequently it is not snow-covered except in winter, and as it supplies the animals with beautiful and nourishing grass, it presents a very different aspect to the rocky and ice-clad sides of the Alps (with a large A).
During the long winter months, the cows, which are of such value to the Swiss, are kept in hot, often stuffy, stables in the villages, and only taken out every day for water. It is a familiar sight to winter visitors in the Alps to meet these animals in the village street, plunging and galloping about in the enjoyment of a few breaths of fresh air on their way to drink at one of the many troughs with which even the smallest of Alpine hamlets is so liberally supplied.
Towards the beginning of May, the cows are taken from their stables and driven to the lower alps. These alps constitute a great source of wealth to the country. Many owners of large herds of cattle have as many as three, situated at different altitudes on the mountain-side. It is to the lowest that the cows first go, and by the time its rich pasturage has been fully enjoyed and considerably diminished, the snow will have melted from the slopes above, and thither the herd pursues its way. By the middle of June, or later, the highest alp is gained, and there the animals remain till the early autumn approaches. Then they descend, halting for a month or so at the intermediate stations, till the end of October sees them once more established in the valley for the winter.
The day on which the cows depart for the alps is fêted with great rejoicings in most Swiss villages, and doubtless in olden days it must have occurred earlier in the season than is now the case, for the 1st March is still kept as a festival dedicated to the turning out of the cows into the meadows, and if the valley was clear of snow by March 1st, the lower alps must surely have been habitable by April.
An interesting account, by Herr Bavier, of the 1st March rejoicings, appeared in the St. Moritz Post for March 10, 1888, and I think that my readers will wish me to reprint some of it. Herr Bavier, under the heading of “Chalanda Mars,” writes:—
“What is the Chalanda Mars? almost all my readers will ask. Here it is the children’s greatest fête, and in every village, no matter how small, the Chalanda Mars is celebrated with as much splendour as possible. For hundreds of years it has been the custom for heads of families to contribute a certain sum, which is put at the disposal of the schoolmaster, and with it he procures a supply of cream, cakes, sweets, and other things dear to the youthful palate. On March 1st (Chalanda, viz., ‘beginning’), the principal scholars of the village school go about the streets, ringing big cow-bells, cracking whips, and singing—
‘Chalanda Mars, Chaland Avrigl,
Lasché las vaschas our d’nuigl,
Cha l’erva crescha
E la naiv svanescha,’
which means,
Beginning of March, beginning of April,
Bring forth the cows from their stables,
For the grass is growing,
And the snow is going.
“During their procession through the village, the youngsters collect chestnuts, or any other dainty offered by the listeners to their music, and on the Sunday following these treasures are placed on a gorgeous sort of ‘buffet,’ and all the village children, even the babies, are invited to help themselves. After supper, a dance helps to further enliven matters, and to make the little folk look forward impatiently to next year’s ‘Chalanda Mars.’”
The herd, consisting perhaps of animals belonging to twenty or more different persons, on its departure for the mountains, is headed by the largest and finest of the cows. She is decorated with the best and deepest-toned bell, and at every march she never fails to place herself in front of all her companions, and when, through old age or sickness, she loses her superiority, and her bell is transferred to the neck of another animal, she sometimes abandons herself to such lowness of spirits as seriously to impair her health.
Tschudi relates that on one occasion, when the herds were preparing for the descent from the upper alp of Bilters, he noticed a furious combat between two cows, and on his inquiring the reason, the herdsmen told him that one of the cows had borne the great bell during the ascent, but that it had been transferred from her neck to that of a still finer animal during their sojourn on the alp. The first cow, having heard the tones of her old bell, had come from a great distance, and on her arrival had immediately shown fight, in revenge for the loss of her former privilege.
After the leader of the troop follow those of next importance, and it is said that every time the purchase of a new animal adds to the herd, the last arrival engages each of the cows in turn in battle, and the result of the fights determines her position amongst her companions. The bells carried by the cows are sometimes so large as to measure a foot in diameter, and cost in some instances as much as eighty or a hundred francs.
The cows are accompanied to their summer quarters either by a girl, who is known as a Sennerin, or by a cowherd, or Senner. It is often imagined that these peasants enjoy a life of romantic idleness, lying on the emerald-green turf, surrounded by snow-clad glittering peaks, and making the cliffs re-echo to their jodels or the “Ranz des Vaches.”
I may here add, that, according to Dr. Forbes, the name of the “Ranz des Vaches” is derived from the “rang” or range in which the cows stand to be milked, the “Ranz des Vaches” being usually sung by the peasants on their departure for the alps. However, in a work by H. Szadrowsky entitled “Music and the Musical Instruments of the Dwellers in the Alps” (1868), the derivation of Ranz is said to be from ranner, to shout (Swiss-Romansch), and the “Ranz des Vaches” from Reihen or Reigen, a song. In truth, the existence of the peasants who inhabit these alps is by no means a lazy one. Up before break of day—I have often seen them astir by 3 A.M.—they must let their cows out of the shelter in which they have passed the night. If any of the animals are ill, they must be attended to. Twice daily they must be milked, and cheese-making is an important and arduous portion of the day’s routine.
In the Engadine, and, in general, all over the Grisons, the alp huts are built of wood or solid stone, and are comfortable and commodious, and good shelter is provided for the cattle. In many parts of Valais, on the contrary, the rough stone huts of the cowherds, so low that an upright position cannot, in some cases, be maintained, are but miserable, hastily-built hovels, the walls consisting of stones piled one on another, regardless of intervening gaps, and a roof of rocky slabs covering the wretched structure. The cows are entirely unprovided with shelter on many such alps, and often when passing through mountain pastures at night, I have been startled by suddenly stumbling over a warm mass slumbering in the long dewy grass.
The highest pastures are usually to be found at about 7500 feet, but at the Riffel above Zermatt, cows are to be seen grazing above 8000 feet, and on the south slopes of the Italian side of the Alps they go still higher. In several parts of Switzerland, the cows, in order to gain their summer quarters, must cross the ice of the glaciers, and at Montanvert, above Chamonix, they may be seen in June and October traversing the Mer de Glace.
Two distinct kinds of cattle are found in Switzerland. The one is to be seen in the districts between the Lake of Constance and the east boundary of Valais, while the west is occupied by a different sort. The former is easily distinguishable, being of a uniform brown, sometimes dark in shade, sometimes light, while the other is white with black or yellow patches, sometimes being entirely red or black, with only a white mark on the forehead. The first of these two varieties, it has been noticed, is heavier or lighter, according as it inhabits the lowlands or the higher valleys.
The heaviest and finest of these animals are to be found in the Canton of Schweiz, and attain a weight of twenty to twenty-five quintaux. Of the latter sort, the best specimens inhabit Bulle, Romont, and Eastern Switzerland in general. These animals are the heaviest of all.
For further information on “Alp Life,” I refer my readers to Tschudi’s “Monde des Alpes.”