I therefore again
descended to Mairengo, and re-ascended by a path which went
straight up behind the village. After a time I got up to the level
of Calpiognia, or nearly so, and found a path through pine woods
which led me across a torrent in a ravine to Calpiognia itself.
This path is very beautiful. While on it I caught sight of a
lovely village nestling on a plateau that now showed itself high up
on the other side the valley of the Ticino, perhaps a couple of
miles off as the crow flies. This I found upon inquiry to be
Dalpe; above Dalpe rose pine woods and pastures; then the loftier
alpi, then rugged precipices, and above all the Dalpe glacier
roseate with sunset. I was enchanted, and it was only because
night was coming on, and I had a long way to descend before getting
back to Faido, that I could get myself away. I passed through
Calpiognia, and though the dusk was deepening, I could not forbear
from pausing at the Campo Santo just outside the village. I give a
sketch taken by daylight, but neither sketch nor words can give any
idea of the pathos of the place. When I saw it first it was in the
month of June, and the rank dandelions were in seed. Wild roses in
full bloom, great daisies, and the never-failing salvia ran riot
among the graves. Looking over the churchyard itself there were
the purple mountains of Biasca and the valley of the Ticino some
couple of thousand feet below. There was no sound save the subdued
but ceaseless roar of the Ticino, and the Piumogna. Involuntarily
I found the following passage from the "Messiah" sounding in my
ears, and felt as though Handel, who in his travels as a young man
doubtless saw such places, might have had one of them in his mind
when he wrote the divine music which he has wedded to the words "of
them that sleep." {2}
[At this point in the book a music score is given]
Or again: {3}
[At this point in the book a music score is given]
From Calpiognia I came down to Primadengo, and thence to Faido.
CHAPTER III - Primadengo, Calpiognia, Dalpe, Cornone, and Prato
Next morning I thought I would go up to Calpiognia again. It was
Sunday. When I got up to Primadengo I saw no one, and heard
nothing, save always the sound of distant waterfalls; all was
spacious and full of what Mr. Ruskin has called a "great
peacefulness of light." The village was so quiet that it seemed as
though it were deserted; after a minute or so, however, I heard a
cherry fall, and looking up, saw the trees were full of people.
There they were, crawling and lolling about on the boughs like
caterpillars, and gorging themselves with cherries. They spoke not
a word either to me or to one another. They were too happy and
goodly to make a noise; but they lay about on the large branches,
and ate and sighed for content and ate till they could eat no
longer. Lotus eating was a rough nerve-jarring business in
comparison. They were like saints and evangelists by Filippo
Lippi. Again the rendering of Handel came into my mind, and I
thought of how the goodly fellowship of prophets praised God. {4}
[At this point in the book a music score is given]
And how again in some such another quiet ecstasy the muses sing
about Jove's altar in the "Allegro and Penseroso."
Here is a sketch of Primadengo Church - looking over it on to the
other side the Ticino, but I could not get the cherry-trees nor
cherry-eaters.
On leaving Primadengo I went on to Calpiognia, and there too I
found the children's faces all purple with cherry juice; thence I
ascended till I got to a monte, or collection of chalets, about
5680 feet above the sea. It was deserted at this season. I
mounted farther and reached an alpe, where a man and a boy were
tending a mob of calves. Going still higher, I at last came upon a
small lake close to the top of the range: I find this lake given
in the map as about 7400 feet above the sea. Here, being more than
5000 feet above Faido, I stopped and dined.
I have spoken of a monte and of an alpe. An alpe, or alp, is not,
as so many people in England think, a snowy mountain. Mont Blanc
and the Jungfrau, for example, are not alps. They are mountains
with alps upon them.
An alpe is a tract of the highest summer pasturage just below the
snow-line, and only capable of being grazed for two or three months
in every year. It is held as common land by one or more villages
in the immediate neighbourhood, and sometimes by a single
individual to whom the village has sold it. A few men and boys
attend the whole herd, whether of cattle or goats, and make the
cheese, which is apportioned out among the owners of the cattle
later on. The pigs go up to be fattened on whey. The cheese is
not commonly made at the alpe, but as soon as the curd has been
pressed clear of whey, it is sent down on men's backs to the
village to be made into cheese. Sometimes there will be a little
hay grown on an alpe, as at Gribbio and in Piora; in this case
there will be some chalets built, which will be inhabited for a few
weeks and left empty the rest of the year.
The monte is the pasture land immediately above the highest
enclosed meadows and below the alpe.
