1826.]' [ '21b ] 



A BLOODY DEED, AND DESPERATELY DESrATClIED. 



Sliukespcure. — Richard III. 



It was on one of those bright dancing days of autumn, in the year 



, that at dawn of morning I quitted a small hamlet on (he Italian 



side of the Splugen, and having ascended its pass, struck off into that 

 singular mountainous district, well known as the chain of the Haute and 

 Basse Engadine, girt in on the one side by the mountains of the (Irisons, 

 and on the other by its romantic brethren of the ^'alteline. It was one 

 of those bracing, cheerful, sunny mornings, so in unison with the feelings 

 of home and country and clime, that the enthusiasm of a young and 

 ardent memory conferred a new and delightful character on a scene, 

 sufficiently impressive in itself to seciu'c an abstracted and engrossing 

 admiration. I had just left behind me the land of romance, and was on the 

 threshold of liberty and freedom; and Nature seemed tome to proclaim 

 thatfor her also there was an elasticity of spirit, denied toher influencesand 

 operations in more southern latitutlcs. There undoubtedly exists some 

 secret and inexplicable union between her and the social institutions 

 of man. In what manner her powers are influential and connnunicable 

 I cannot pi'etend to explain ; but the fact is abundantly perceptible, as 

 operating on the genius and character of different nations, so as to 

 admit of no dispute. I was not alone benefited on this occasion by the 

 spirit-stirring feeling of such atmospheric emotions. IMy honest com- 

 panion Sebastian, who had acted as my guide the last iew days, and 

 was thus working a passage back to his own loved mountains, partook 

 enthusiastically of my sensations. This man was a native of one of the 

 villages in the neighbourhood of Altorff, and consequently a German 

 Switzer. He had been detiiined in Italy from various causes for a long 

 period, and his gratitude on once more breathing his native air, 

 and scaling his native hills, and gazing on the bright blue sky wliich 

 canopied the utmost range of the Engadine, was, indeed, eloquent and 

 expressive. It was my good or ill-fortune to be associated for some 

 considerable time, in 181—, with the advanced guard of the Austrian army, 



under the orders of General G— 1. You, who are a military man, 



and had in some measure prepared me for the belle tenue of the German 

 soldiery, may well imagine the effect the premier coup-d'teil produced— 

 the effect of a bod}- of these men, amounting to 30,000, marching eight in 

 line, in order of battle. I shall never forget the impression. There 

 they were, on one of those straight, broad, majestic military roads, with 

 which Napoleon had embellished, not only France, but whersoever his 

 influence and interests extended. Their white uniforms and polished 

 arms gleamed in the sun-beams ; there fras the muscular stature and 

 the precision of discipline, and the mechanical regularity of c umns 

 evolutioning independently in so vast a mass, and so comparatively a 

 confined space, that I could not contemplate this moving camp without 

 astonishment and admiration. A nearer association quickly dissipated 

 all my preconceived notions of these men. The precise regularity of 

 their discipline and tenue I could easily trace to characteristic, or 

 rather disiplined apathy, and a callous instinct of technical subordina- 

 tion. Their morale, if such it may be called, depended on an organized 

 servility of mind and body ; and there was an heaviness — an inaction in 

 their every movement — a dull listlessness in their every loo^, which stamp- 

 ed them as mere animal organs of a system of long and secure tyranny. 



2 N 2 



