The Story of Switzerland

by Lina Hug; Richard Stead

The fifth century was remarkable for what may be called the dislocation of the peoples of Europe—the migrations of the Germans into the Roman Empire, and, mightiest movement of all, the irruption of the Huns under their terrible king Attila, the "Scourge of God." The mere sight of the hideous Asiatics filled men with horror. Never afoot, but ever on their ill-shaped but rapid steeds, to whose backs they seemed as if they were glued, and on which they lived well-nigh day and night, it seemed as if man and horse had grown into one being. Their large heads ill-matched their meagre bodies; their tawny faces with deep-set eyes and high, protruding cheek-bones made them resemble rough-cut figures in stone rather than human beings. The Goths regarded them as the offspring of spirits of the desert and of witches. These masses of Asiatic barbarism, which had burst into Europe, stayed for awhile in Hungary, but soon rolled towards the West, dislodging all the peoples with whom they came in contact. Marching to the Rhine, they drove the Burgundians from their settlements in the district of Worms, a land so rich in song and saga, and entered Gaul to found a new kingdom. But the doom of the Huns was at hand, for Aëtius the Roman general, and the last defender of the empire, defeated them, a.d. 451, in a truly gigantic battle on the Catalaunian Plain, in the Champagne country. The slaughter was so terrible that the saying went abroad that the river ran high with the blood of 300,000 men.

But it was clear that the tottering empire could not defend itself against a whole world in commotion. The time had come when Rome was to leave the stage of history. The great German nation was forming. It would be tedious and profitless to mention all the German tribes beyond the Rhine and Danube, a well-nigh endless list of names, impossible to remember. Besides, the petty tribes and clans gradually formed alliances with each other for greater security, and, dropping their ancient names, took collective ones more familiar to our ears—Saxons, Franks, Thuringi, Burgundians, Alamanni, and Bavarians.

Of these the Alamanni and the Burgundians are those from whom the Swiss are descended, and thus Switzerland, like England, has to look back to Germany as its ancestral home. The tall, fair-haired, true-hearted Alamanni for whom Caracalla had such an admiration that to be like them he wore a red wig, are said to have been descendants of the Semnones, who had migrated from Lusatia on the Spree (in Silesia) to the Main. The name Alamanni is generally held by the learned to be derived from alah, a temple-grove, and implies a combination of various tribes, "the people of the Divine grove." The Suevi, of whom the Semnones were the most conspicuous tribe, had a sacred grove in the district of the Spree, where they met for worship. In the fifth century we find the Alamanni occupying the district from the Main to the Black Forest, East Helvetia, and Alsatia as far as the Vosges.

When this formidable horde took possession of Eastern Helvetia they found but little trouble from the Celto-Roman population, who, thinned by previous invasions, and unaccustomed to fighting, could offer no serious resistance, and sank into slaves and servants. The towns were laid in ruins, the country ravaged, and all culture trodden under foot. It seemed as if "the hand on the dial of history had been put back by centuries,"[11] and civilization had once more to begin her work. They outnumbered the natives, and were not absorbed by them, but on the contrary on the half-decayed stock of the Roman province the Alamanni were grafted as a true German people, retaining their old language, institutions, and mode of living.

The Alamanni did not at once develop into a civilized and cultivated people, but retained their fondness for war and hunting, and other characteristics of their ancient life. Their grand and majestic woods had stamped themselves on the intrepid, dauntless spirits, whose deep subjectiveness and truthful natures contrasts strongly with the polished artfulness of the Romans. For the mighty aspects of nature—forest, mountain, sea—play their part in moulding the character of a nation. And their impenetrable woods had influenced the destinies of the Germans in the early periods of their history—had saved them from the Roman yoke, the labyrinths of swamp and river, defying even the forces of the well-nigh all-powerful empire. Then, too, when hard fighting was afoot, and men had burnt their homesteads before the advance of the foe, the vast forest formed a safe retreat for women and children. The original house, by the way, was a mere wooden tent on four posts, and could be carried off on carts that fitted underneath. The next stage was a hut in the style of the Swiss mountain-shed, but it was still movable—was, in fact, a chattel the more to be taken along on their wanderings.[12]

Their mode of settling in their new country was curious enough, though the early settlement of England was very similar in character. Disliking walled towns of the Roman fashion, the Germans felt their freedom of movement impeded and their minds oppressed by living within the prison-like fortifications of strong cities. But loving seclusion and independence, nevertheless, they built extensive farmsteads, where each man was his own master. To the homestead were added fields, meadows, and an extensive farmyard; the whole hedged about so as to keep the owner aloof from his neighbours. Each farmer pitched his tent wherever "spring or mead, or sylvan wood tempted him," reports Tacitus. This liking for seclusion on the part of the Germans is well shown in the case of Zurich, for at one time the canton had three thousand farm homesteads, as against a hundred hamlets and twelve villages.

The mode of partitioning the land shows democratic features. It was divided amongst the community according to the size of families and herds of cattle, but one large plot was left for the common use. The large Allmend, or common, supplied wood for the community, and there, too, might feed every man's flocks and herds. The nobleman as such had no domains specially set apart for him, his position and privileges were honorary. He might be chosen as a high officer of a district, or even a duke, or leader of the army, in time of war. Payment for such services was unknown. Money was scarce, and indeed its use was mainly taught them by the Romans. Not only did flocks and herds form their chief wealth, but were the standard of value, each article being estimated as worth so much in cattle.

Society was from the very first sharply and clearly divided into two great classes—the landowners and the bondsmen—the "free and the unfree." The former class was again split into "lesser men," "middle men," and "first men," or Athelinge (Adelige), these last named being of noble blood, and owners of most land and the greatest number of slaves and cattle. The "unfree" were either Hœrige that belonged to the estate they tilled, and might be sold with it, or slaves who could call nothing their own, for whatever they saved fell to their lord at their death, if he so willed. A shire or large district was subdivided into hundreds. The whole of the free men met on some hallowed spot, under some sacred tree, with their priests and leaders. Here, besides performing religious exercises, they discussed war and peace, dispensed justice, chose their officers of state, and their leader if war was imminent. War and jurisdiction were the whole, or well-nigh the whole, of public life at that early stage. The popular assemblies, done away with by the feudal system, revived later on in the form of the famous "Landsgemeinde" of the forest district, which are still in use in some of the cantons. Blood money, or wergild, was exacted from wrong-doers as in Saxon times in England. The tariff drawn up for bodily injuries reveals the mercenary and brawling temper of a semi-civilized people.

At the time they settled in Switzerland the Alamanni were heathens, and worshipped nature-deities—in groves, near springs, or mountains—the names of some of which we still trace in the names of the days of the week. Their religion, which was that common to all Germany, reveals the German mind—full of reverie, deep thoughtfulness, and wild romantic fancy that leads to a tragical issue. Like most heathen people the Alamanni clothed their gods in their own flesh and blood. Woden and his attendant deities, shield-maidens—Freyr and Freya, the king and queen of the elves—dwarfs, giants, spirits—all these are well known to us, and are indeed the charm of the fairy tales of our youth. The bright spirits, the Asen, war against the spirit of darkness, the giants, and lose ground, for they have broken the treaties made with them. The Asen are the benevolent powers of nature, spring sunshine, and fertilizing rain, and live in bright palaces, in Walhalla, and receive the dead; the evil spirits are the sterile rock, the icy winter, the raging sea, the destructive fire. Thor destroys the rocks with his Hammer, pounding them to earth that man may grow corn. The giants scale the sky to defy the gods for assisting mankind, but Heimdallr stands watching on the rainbow-bridge that leads to Asgard—the garden of the Asen—and prevents their entrance. But the gods themselves are stained with guilt, and in a fight with the Giants before the gates of Walhalla, they utterly destroy each other. The columns of heaven and the rainbow-bridge break down, the universe is destroyed and the downfall of the gods is complete. But the heathen Germans could not bear the notion of entire annihilation, so in a sort of epilogue the great tragedy is followed by the dawn of brighter and better times, the gods recover their former innocence, when they used to play with golden dice without knowing the value of gold.[13] The Götterdämmerung, the Divine Dawn, has broken, and a new epoch has set in for gods and men. One of Wagner's musical dramas is, as is well known, founded on these myths. . To turn to the Burgundians. They became the neighbours of the Alamanni in Helvetia about 443 a.d., after a severe defeat by the Huns. This great battle is pictured with great power in the "Nibelungenlied." The Burgundians play a conspicuous part in that grand old epic. A wonderful blending it is of heroic myth, beautiful romance, and historic sagas attaching to the great heroes of the early Middle Ages—Theodoric the Great, Gunther of Burgundy, Attila, King of the Huns. If space permitted, the whole story might well be told, but in this place let one feat be cited as an example. Siegfried, the Dragon-slayer, a demigod, invulnerable, like Achilles, except in one place, and who could make himself invisible, woos the sweet and lovely maid of Worms. As "invisible champion," he assists her brother Gunther in his combat with the warlike Brunhilde, Queen of the North, whom Gunther wishes to obtain to wife. After years of happy married life the Queen of Worms fell to a quarrel with the Queen of Xanten on a question of precedence, and the gallant Siegfried falls a victim to Brunhilde's hatred, and her intrigue with Hagen. To avenge his death, the disconsolate widow marries the powerful Attila, and engages in a terrible battle with the Burgundians. In this battle she and her own kindred were slain. Attila and Dietrich of Verona (Theodoric the Great) are saved, however.

Aëtius gave to the Burgundians as a settlement Sabaudia (Savoy), on condition that they should protect Gaul and Italy from the incursions of the Alamanni. One-third of the lands and homesteads were made over to them by the Romans, and later two-thirds were yielded. Gradually the Burgundians advanced in the interior of Helvetia, Vaud, Valais, and Fribourg, and into Southern Gaul. They occupied indeed all the territory from the Vosges to the Alps and the Mediterranean. They lived on friendly terms with the previous settlers, differing considerably in character from the Alamanni. Less numerous, less vigorous, and more pliant, they were unable to Germanize the West, as the Alamanni did the East, yet were strong enough to infuse new vital force into the enervated Roman populations. A readily cultivable race the Burgundians availed themselves of the Roman civilization and advancement, and gradually blended with the previous settlers—chiefly of Latin origin—to form a new people. Thus through Roman influence and German grafting—with two distinct German grafts—two nationalities sprang up in Switzerland, and we find, as in our own day, the Germans in the north-east, and the French in the south-west.