“Amongst the venerated spots which the goodness of God seems to have especially chosen for the distribution of rich spiritual and temporal gifts, Kaltbad on the Rigi has for centuries enjoyed a well-founded reputation. The natural operation of the remarkably cold water has in itself given life and health to thousands. But far more effect has been produced by trustful prayers, joined with the contrite and devout reception of the holy sacraments, and aided by the powerful intercession of the pure Virgin-Mother of God and of other saints. Remarkable and often perfectly miraculous cures of countless Christians, in the most different circumstances of body and soul, have here taken place, which have partly been recorded in writing, and partly live on in grateful remembrance.
“In former times this place was called the ‘Schwesterborn,’ or ‘Spring of the Sisters’; for the legend relates that in the reign of the Emperor Albert of Austria—in the beginning of the XIVth century—three pious sisters retired to this wilderness in order to escape from powerful governors, or Vogts, and here led holy and saintly lives. The first miraculous cure on record is that of a devout Landsassen of Weggis, named Balthasar Tolen, in the year 1540. From year to year the reputation of this spring increased. In the year 1585, on the 20th of May, the first small chapel was consecrated in honor of God, of the holy Archangel Michael and the other angels, and of the holy shepherd Wendelin, by Balthasar, Bishop of Ascalon. It proved, however, insufficient for the number of Alpine inhabitants and pilgrims. Even after those belonging to the canton Schwytz built themselves a chapel, a hundred years later, at Mary in the Snow, or ‘Maria zum Schnee,’ the want of a larger church was still felt. The present one, with three altars, the middle one of which possesses the image of the ever Blessed Mother of God, and the two side ones the pictures of the holy martyr S. Lawrence and the father of the church, S. Jerome, was built in the year 1779, and considerably renovated in the year 1861, when the two new side altars and their paintings by Theodore von Deschwanden were added.
“On the 20th of July, 1782, His Holiness Pius VI. granted a plenary indulgence to all the faithful, on any day whatsoever, on the condition that after approaching the holy sacraments of Confession and Communion, with contrite and worthy dispositions, they here devoutly pray for the union of all Christian princes, the extirpation of heresy, and the increase of the Holy Catholic Church—an indulgence which can be applied to the souls in purgatory.
“In order to afford the opportunity of assisting at divine service on Sundays and holidays to the shepherds as well as to the pilgrims, and also of approaching the holy sacraments, a special priest is here appointed during the whole summer season.”
So here again, even here, the Austrians and imperial Vogts were at the root of all things—in this instance, however, and unconsciously, the source of good to many poor sufferers; for numberless ex-votos filling the end of the little church eloquently told that it had proved [pg 396] to them a true “place of grace,” as my guide of yesterday had so beautifully called it. And the little stream outside was the real “Kaltbad,” whose wonder-working effects had first given the place its name. Quaint and rude were all the paintings, but full of life and feeling, mostly from the neighborhood—from Weggis, Vitznau, and Gersau. Yes, there was a man in a boat in danger on the lake, just as we had seen from the Gersau hotel two evenings ago; but this one is praying fervently with clasped hands, and we longed to know if those who were saved the other day had done likewise.
Then here is a family of boys and girls kneeling in rows, the father and mother behind, all with their pink, and blue, and green rosaries twined round their hands, in the selfsame manner that the Gersau children had theirs during Mass! Above, a child of two years old, kneeling beside its mother, has a rosary hanging on its arm; quaint little things in caps like those of their elders, or infants tied on pillows with quantities of red bows. Red was so much the prevailing color that it seemed as if it must have some reference to their beloved national flag. And then there were small waxen hearts, and ears, and a wooden hand with a fearful gash, the offering, no doubt, of a grateful wood-cutter. Some of these are upwards of a hundred or a hundred and fifty years old, with inscriptions in the native dialect, full of pathos and local color. But most striking of all is a large painting of the very wall of rock up which we had climbed from Weggis yesterday, bearing the following simple-worded inscription:
“Be it known to all, that by the breaking up of the dangerous Rigirocks on the Weggis mountain some of the inhabitants were threatened with the complete destruction of all their possessions. In this extremity and distress they turned to heaven, and, with firm confidence in the gracious Mother of all the angels, they here sought and found help; for instantly the loosening of the rocks ceased, and all became quiet again. Therefore, as a perpetual memorial of praise and thanksgiving to God and the Mother of Mercy, they have consecrated and hung up this tablet, anno 1753.”
This was clearly forty-two years before the fatal mud-slide which destroyed so much, and it would be most interesting to know whether the later victims turned hitherward for succor; but of this no record exists in the church. In the above painting the Blessed Mother, holding the divine Infant in her arms, is represented standing in the centre of the rock-wall, with S. Michael on one side and S. Lawrence on the other, just as if they had been visible. Had we only beheld this tablet before, with what different eyes should we have looked at this face of rock yesterday from the cemetery below, as also during our ascent! And what proof such a picture and inscription give of the strong faith of the Weggis population in the unseen world under whose blessed protection they live in peace and confidence! Whilst we tarried, peasant after peasant came in. One, an old woman, took out her rosary, and told her beads leisurely; another, younger and busier, laid down her basket, prayed for a few minutes with recollection, and then went on to her work; but what most struck us was a little girl of about twelve, who also had her basket, full of fruit and flowers, and had [pg 397] been there before we arrived for Mass. She waited until we left, and then evidently thought that we had finally departed. Unexpectedly, however, I returned to look at the tablet again, and I beheld the little maiden in the act of dropping some money into the poor box, blushing modestly when her eyes caught mine. I asked, and found that she was a Weggis child—one of the number that climb the mountain like antelopes up to this hotel daily to sell their “fresh figs,” “peaches,” and “flowers”—for they offer them in good English—the majority of whom first pay their visit to the Blessed Sacrament in this church, and leave some little offering for themselves or their parents. She was a blue-eyed, intelligent girl—one who had made her first communion two years previously, and approached the Holy Sacrament manchmal—many times, she said, during the course of the year.
As time went on, experience taught us that the children of the Rigi are one of its most distinctive characteristics. Intelligent, bright-countenanced, and yet modest, they are the most attractive race of juveniles to be met with in Switzerland, and, as yet, are unspoiled by contact with the stranger crowd. They form the most remarkable contrast to those of the Bernese Oberland, where the grandeur of Grindelwald and other spots is so much marred by the swarms of sickly beggar-children that there flock round one from all quarters. Here, on the contrary, they are brimful of health and intelligence, and never once during all our wanderings in the forest cantons did a beggar, old or young, ever cross our path. So much for the popular fallacy, or rather calumny, which says that prosperity, comfort, and thrift are alone to be found in the Protestant cantons, and that beggary, want, and uncleanliness mark the entrance into the Catholic districts. Like many such sayings, it does not bear investigation; but when even the most just-minded start on their travels with prejudiced minds, it is astonishing how readily they accept the opinions of men whose want of observation they despise at home. Above all, should the question be anything concerning Catholicity, their wilful blindness surpasses all belief. Some exceptions to this rule there certainly are, increasing, too, each year, like the celebrated Dr. Arnold, for instance, who frankly admitted that he had found nothing in Switzerland to justify such a verdict being passed on its Catholic population, and was generous enough to acknowledge this.
Nor are the children who cover the Rigi, selling fruit and flowers, idlers in any way. The law requires their attendance at school up to the age of eight all the year round, but from eight to twelve only during the winter months. This arrangement has been made in order that they may accompany their parents to the upland châlets, or, as often happens, mind the cattle alone on the higher pastures. A most interesting class they are, and one must ardently pray that nothing may ever change or modernize them, according to the present ideas of so-called “civilization”!