Whether this is a different kind from ours, I have not been able to ascertain, but, that every year in this part, such Cuckookoos are heard.
Something also, I have here remarked, which has still more interested me as a musician. The serving boy belonging to our house and some maidens of the neighbourhood who hold their Singing-Academy before our window every Sunday evening, intonate in their songs just like the notes from a tin instrument when unassisted by the stopping of the finger, i, e, the Terza somewhat too high, the Quarta still higher and the little Septime considerably too low. From this it is evident, that this intonation is natural to the human ear, if it is not accustomed from early youth to the attemperated system of tones. These nature-singers would sound as false to our tone-scale, as we to theirs. But it is nevertheless specially remarkable, and almost disquieting, that in order to attain our present richness of harmony, we have been obliged to deviate from the Tone-scale given to us by nature. For without our attemperated Tone-system we should be confined to the nearest tones, and obliged to renounce the enharmonical changes which are the haut goût of modern harmony. And yet by this deviation from nature, it seems to me that music is alone elevated to a real Science, while all other arts, must be content to copy Nature, and even when they would idealise, still imitate nature in all individualities. The songs of these Nature-singers have a great deal of originality, and when I have learned to understand better the dialect of these parts, which has much resemblance to the Allemanic, I will endeavour to note down some of them.
June, 4.
Yesterday we returned from the first more distant excursion which the fine weather tempted us to undertake, and enjoyed ourselves exceedingly. We went to Kandersteg, a small village high up in the mountains, distant from here between seven or eight leagues. I had hired for this purpose our host’s one horse “Rietwägeli” and drove myself. The map was again our guide. Our road lay at first along the right bank of the lake of Thun as far as Spiez. Behind Gwatt we crossed the Kander over a wooden bridge, which in a single arch of most ingenious construction spans high and boldly the broad and rushing stream. About a hundred years ago the course of the Kander was turned into the lake, by which means the beautiful valley from Glutsch to Thierachern which lay waste and uncultivated every spring owing to the inundations, was converted into fine meadows and fruitful fields. But this must have been a giant-labour, for it was found necessary to pierce a high mountain for the purpose. From the centre of the bridge one looks down from a dizzy height upon the foaming Kander in its passage over the rocks, and at the same time upon the lowering banks on either side. From Spiez the road turns to the right round the majestic Riesen, and leads through a fruitful and highly cultivated valley to Frutigen, a cheerful little place. Here a second valley opens, out of which the Kander issues. In this gloomy, fearful rocky vale, which is frequently scarce broad enough for the bed of the river and the road, the ascent now begins. On both sides, rocks of stupendous height, and which in many places hang so much over the road as to make it quite dark, and fearful to behold. Added to that, the roar of the onward rolling Kander over its rocky bed, and the numerous waterfalls which on both sides of the glen precipitate themselves frequently from a height of more than a hundred feet. As we by degrees ascended higher with every step, we receded as it were more and more back into the season of Spring. The cherry trees, which at Thierachern had already bloomed a month ago, were here only in their first bloom. But higher, all fruit trees ceased, and after we had crossed the last steep mountain of the Kandersteg we saw nothing but a few thinly scattered fir trees. The village, consisting of small wooden huts, unsurrounded by gardens and trees, lying wide apart from each other between masses of rock, presents a cheerless aspect. The snow which lies here for nine weary months, was scarcely melted, and the meadows upon which lean looking cattle sought a scanty fodder, still wore the sickly yellow hue of the winter season. Upon all the lofty peaks which tower on either side of the valley of Kandersteg, lay still a deep mantle of snow, from which innumerable small rivulets had their rise, and leaped foaming down. From this part, the road still ascends for three leagues more to Gemmi, and then descends precipitously to the Leuker Baths, whose hot springs are greatly frequented in the autumn. As the made road ceases at Kandersteg, the visitors to the Baths, who are bad pedestrians, are obliged to be carried on there by bearers, or upon mules, and with this arduous occupation the majority of the inhabitants of the little village eke out a scanty subsistance.
We slept at Kandersteg, and returned on the following day. It was an agreable feeling to return by degrees as it were from winter once more into the spring and summer.
July, 1.
A few days ago I sent five new works to Herr Peters at Leipsic to be engraved. They were two collections of Songs, three Duetts for two Violins, the seventh Violin Concerto and a grand Polonaise for Violin and Orchestra, work 37-41. The Duetts and one of the Songs are new; the other Songs which I wrote the previous summer at Carolath, I have partly rewritten and newly instrumentated the Polonaise.
After mature consideration we have resolved to make the journey to Italy without our carriage, as one travels there more economically and safely by Vetturino. The chief reason for this decision was the fear that the renewed exertion upon the instrument which so much affects the nerves might again shake the health of my good Dorette, and embitter both for her and us the long anticipated enjoyment of the delightful journey. As therefore we were going to leave the harp and a part of our luggage behind with our host, until our return, we should not require the carriage, and save at the same time the long circuitous route by the highroad to the lake of Geneva, and through the whole length of the valley of the Valais. That Dorette however, as artiste, should not wholly sink into inactivity, I shall write several things in part anew, for Violin and Pianoforte, and re-arrange some from former things, which we can then play both in private circles and in public in Italy, where it is even said there is great difficulty in meeting with a good Quartett accompaniment. In the way of preparation for our next winter journey, I may also mention an improvement I have made upon my newly acquired violin. By a variety of experiments with voice and bridge, I have at length so far succeeded as to make it speak as softly with the Quinte which was hitherto hard and brittle, as with the other strings. The change in the instrument has not been without effect on the style of the new Violin-compositions, as also upon my method of execution! So certain it is, that, the instrument exercises an influence upon the method of the player in the same manner as does the voice upon that of the singer. As one endeavours to conceal the weak points of the instrument, and to bring out its good qualities, one plays more especially what the instruments renders with the most ease, and in this manner the whole method of play becomes by degrees subordinate and appropriate to the peculiarity of the instrument. One may therefore not only recognise the peculiarities of a Virtuoso by his compositions, but those also of his instrument.