“I know him well. There is a suit between us,
About a piece of ancient heritage;
Herr Reding, we are enemies in court;
Here we are one.”
Thus is it in Switzerland. Will it ever be so with us? Come, ye educators of the people and of the young, preach this principle from the pulpit, and make it the corner stone of your instructions in the school and at the firesides of your homes!
At the signal for the noon intermission the firing immediately ceases, and in a few minutes 6,000 hungry and thirsty people are seated at the one hundred and fifty tables in the hall; the rest disperse to the eating-houses in the neighborhood and in the city. The dinner is enlivened by toasts which, however, are never of a personal character. No homage is done to the individual; to the country, to the fatherland alone, is homage due in a republic. Toasts are heard in German, in French, in Italian—yet all tongues unite in the glorification of a common country. Separate tables are set for the different cantons, but so arranged that the more distant cantons are usually the nearest together—Ticino near Berne, Geneva near Basle, Zurich near Vaud. In the middle of the hall are the tables for the committees and the honorary guests.
On the second day of the festival the delegations of marksmen hold a general conference, and though they enter the hall with opposing opinions and feelings, yet before they part all differences are settled, all contradictions are reconciled, and their resolutions are usually endorsed by the whole people. There is no tendency to disunion, no necessity for secession, for each one endeavors to satisfy the wishes of the other; the public weal is considered, not the interest or aggrandizement of the individual or of the canton.
On Sunday, the 10th of July, a public service was held on the meadow. It was a solemn ceremony, attended by all the different creeds that hold fellowship together. On the next day the members of the Diet, which was then in session at Berne, visited Zurich. The banished duchess of Parma, who lives in the neighboring Swiss town, Pappenschwyl, was also the guest of the citizens. She and her children sat with them at the rough pine board and partook of the same viands. After the dinner she said, with tears in her eyes, “The Swiss do not know how happy they indeed are.”
On Tuesday, July 12th, the last shot was fired, and on the following day the prizes were distributed. This ceremony took place on the grounds before the gift temple. President Dubs opened with a speech, in which he said: “We are distributing now the prizes to those who have proved themselves the best marksmen. An equal chance is given to all; let all practice with their weapons and emulate their lucky companions. I am convinced that all who have hit the centre of the target will be able to pierce the breast of the enemy, should war be unavoidable.” The first prize, the silver basin from Paris, with the 2,500 francs, was won by a manufacturer, Durrer, of Unterwalden; the second, the silver horn from Leipzig, by a farmer named Glogg, of Obermeilen; the third, the twelve silver cups from Bremen, jointly by Professor Dr. Hug, of the University of Zurich, and Mr. Baer, of Männedorf, the best shot in Switzerland, who had hit the target four hundred and eighty-seven times during the festival.
The whole was closed with a serenade, given by the marksmen to President Dubs, the chief magistrate of the confederacy, as well as president of the festival. The next day the remaining guests departed, the garlands and banners disappeared, the people returned to their business, all external show had vanished; but the feeling that Switzerland’s sons have again renewed the bonds of their brotherhood still survives in the breasts of that simple, quiet people—our republican brethren of the Alps.