CHAPTER VII.

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Draught horses—The old “fly-waggon”—Weight and pace—Sagacity of mules—Hanging on by a wheel—The Refuge—Hot fighting in the Alps—Suffocation—Over at last—Railway to Paris.

T

The selection of horses for draught purposes should be made with a view to the pace at which they are expected to work. You may get a perfect model for harness and draught, but if he is not cut according to the pattern which is required for fast work, half his energy and good intention will be exhausted in trying to do that for which he is physically unfit. He is prevented from throwing his weight and strength into his work, because it takes him all his time to keep his place.

In the old days of “fly-waggons,”[8] the only means of transit for heavy goods, except by canal, the cart horse was an animal now almost extinct. He was never expected to move beyond a walk, but this walk was almost perpetual motion. He took all his food, and I may say his rest, while strolling along by day and night in the waggon. The halting-places were few and far between, and were made more for the accommodation of the few passengers who were carried in the “crate”[9] than for the convenience of the horses. In those days the brewers and millers emulated each other in the size and condition of their horses; one constantly met in the streets of London a mountain of a horse, seventeen and a half hands high, loaded with flesh, legs like an elephant, drawing one small nine-gallon cask (perhaps empty) upon a truck. Mais tout cela est changÉ.

All waggons are now vans, cart horses machiners, and must trot at least six miles an hour. We now take for our model the Clydesdale and the Suffolk in preference to the Flemish and the Yorkshire. Even in agricultural work the style of horses and the rate of ploughing is widely different from that of half a century ago. In this particular the afternoon of the worn-out coach horse or hunter is rendered less irksome to him than formerly, as he can more readily accommodate himself to a good fair walk than to be always snatching at the chains only to find he must come back to his partners.

Weight in a horse is a great element in his composition for purposes of heavy draught; but it should be taken into consideration that he has to carry that weight in addition to the work which is expected from him; and for every ounce by which he is assisted in weight, his strain in draught is increased three pounds, and so on proportionately.

Treating the subject of draught, there is no more practical illustration of the way in which the subject is understood by the animals themselves than is afforded by the long string of mules which are attached to carriages, both private and public, in crossing the Alps. The mode of putting them together is by having two at the wheel, with a continuous long string in single file before them, often as many as seventeen or twenty. The intelligence shown by these animals in threading the side of a mountain by a zigzag road is remarkable. Each mule, as he arrives at the angle, ceases to pull, apparently knowing that having turned out of the straight line the weight of his draught would be rather an impediment to progress.

I write feelingly upon the instinct of the Italian mules, having been once indebted to their sagacity and obedience for my escape from what might have been a very serious accident.

I was travelling from Turin to Paris. The journey over Mont Cenis was then only to be performed by Fell’s railway, or by the road, by diligence or private carriage. I took the latter, making a contract for the posting, and not binding the maÎtre de poste to any limited number of mules for the ascent. It was in the month of December, and at the time I left Susa, at five P.M., the snow was falling so thickly that by the time I had completed half the ascent, the road or track was completely obliterated. It was a beautiful moonlight night. I was lost in admiration of the manner in which the nine mules, attached to a light travelling carriage, wended their way over the trackless snow.

The stupendous mountains, clothed in all the sombre grandeur of their winter attire, surged up before me, peeping, as it were, into the deep chasms beneath, on the very verge of which the mules moved cautiously along.

It was wonderful to watch, where the road twisted and turned almost at right angles, the careful manner in which each animal in turn dropped out of his work till they were again in the straight running.

Notwithstanding the beauty of the scenery and the interest with which I watched the long string of mules, which appeared at times to be actually balancing themselves upon the narrow ledges, I was not without anxiety, partly, perhaps, on account of a friend to whom I had given a seat in my carriage. He had recently broken his leg at Turin, and was taking the earliest opportunity of a safe escort to London.

The driver had no more direct control over the mules than could be conveyed by his voice, though I must do him the justice to say that when he did open his mouth he did so to some purpose.

His mules, however, did not often require reproof, and a short grunt, with the name Garibaldi or Emanuel, sufficed to make them spring forward as if they were ashamed of being named before strangers.

The driver himself frequently makes short cuts across the angles of the road as he plods through the snow, leaving the mules to thread their way entirely according to their own judgment.

It was on one of these occasions, when the driver loitering out of sight, perhaps to cut his tobacco, was absent somewhat longer than usual, that the mules appeared to be feeling their way with more than ordinary caution, while the uneasy motion of the carriage indicated that we were not travelling upon a plain surface. Almost instinctively, I ejaculated at the top of my voice, imitating as near as I could the driver’s intonation: “Wo-a-a-h!” Every mule stopped dead short. If they had not done so, or moved on one single inch, this incident would never have been recorded by me!

Opening the door of the carriage I beheld a frightful precipice, over which we were literally hanging; while, turning round in order to step out with greater caution, I found that the weight of my body perforated the lightly-packed snow, and that I could not feel the ground beneath it. Had it not been for the firm grip I had of the wing of the carriage, I must inevitably have been precipitated into the abyss of snow-covered boulders many hundred feet deep below.

When I had recovered my footing by clinging to the wheels of the carriage, I found that there was not more than an inch of ground between us and eternity. Thus, but for the admirable patience and obedience of the mules, we must in another instant have been launched bodily down the precipice.

We looked round in vain for the driver, and it was not till I had succeeded in pulling out my lame companion, and seating him in the snow, that I saw the fellow come strolling up the hill in a cloud of tobacco smoke, singing at the top of his voice one of the patois refrains.

To punch his head was my first impulse; but this was soon dispelled by the duties imposed on me at this moment of peril.

First, if the mules moved an inch the carriage, with baggage, etc., must have lost its balance and gone down.

Second, the attention required by my poor friend, who, unable to stand in consequence of his accident, sat by the roadside in the snow, praying me to seek for his crutches.

Third, the doubt if it would be wise to unhitch the mules from the carriage, a dangerous experiment, as I verily believe the weight of the carriage was sustained in a great measure by the traces of the wheelers.

There are upon Mont Cenis houses of Refuge, at intervals of about an English mile, occupied by people employed by the Government, to render assistance and shelter to travellers who may be overtaken by snowstorms. Countless lives have been rescued by means of the appliances which these afford. They are conducted upon something the same principle as our Humane Society. During the winter season when the snow drifts, it is no uncommon thing for travellers to be snow-staid in these Refuges for eight or ten days.

On the occasion of which I write the snow continued to fall thickly, and, there being wind enough to cause a drift, I was anxious to get my sick friend into one of these houses with as little delay as possible.

Now came the difficulty. To get the carriage back on to the road without letting it slip over the ridge required skilful engineering. The mules at the wheels hung on with exemplary perseverance. Had they relaxed in the slightest degree the carriage must have taken them, and probably some more of the string, down the frightful precipice.

The intelligent animals appeared to understand the situation as well as we, and scarcely needed the driver’s ceaseless cautious “W-o-a-a-h! w-o-a-a-h!”

I decided first upon lightening the carriage, by removal of the heavier luggage. This I did with the double view of relieving the mules from the strain they were maintaining, and of rescuing some at least of our worldly goods from impending danger. Whilst thus engaged the snow continued to fall in such blinding clouds as to darken the air; and the wind drifted it, and hurried it about, half burying every article of baggage as we detached it in turn from the carriage.

My next object was to rescue the carriage from its imminent peril, as being the only means of getting my lame friend to the Refuge, a quarter of a mile distant.

I therefore detached the string of mules from those at the wheel—the latter holding on like grim death to the carriage during the necessary delay—then, taking three from the string of single mules (there was no room for more on the road), I fastened their rope-traces round the body of the carriage, when, all being ready, a few grunts from the driver made them spring across the track and land the carriage on its side in the road. The two mules who had held on so resolutely came over also, and, from the draught becoming irregular, some confusion occurred; chiefly owing to the stupidity of the driver, who uttered in the same breath “Wo-a-a-h!” and “U-u-u-p!” one being the word to stop, the other to proceed. All this occurred in the midst of heavy blinding clouds of snow, covering every article which impeded its course.

Having arrested the carriage in its downward course, the next thing was to get it on its perpendicular; and this we accomplished with the assistance of the same three mules which had capsized it. Right glad was I to replace my poor friend in his seat. He had been suffering agony from cold whilst sitting in the snow, incapable, through his accident, to render me the least assistance. Finally, I collected such of our traps as could be recovered from the snow, and, having hitched on the string anew, proceeded cautiously to the Refuge.


This being the first heavy fall of snow of the winter, our arrival was rather a surprise, and found the inhabitants somewhat unprepared. It was the work, however, but of a few minutes to kindle an enormous wood fire, in front of which we soon became dry and warm.


The inmates of the Refuge, who were of the peasant class, overwhelmed us with simple attentions. The supply of provisions was small and presented no great variety, comprising chiefly black bread, macaroni, dry beans, and hard sausages, with a little oil.

The first night spent at the Refuge was amusing from its novelty, and as we all slept in the same apartment with the Piedmontese family, we had to make ourselves at home as best we could. One of the daughters, a girl of sixteen, had served a campaign in London with a tambourine as an accompaniment to her own voice and her brother’s barrel-organ. The boy was about twelve, with very black eyes and a long Italian chin. When addressed, his countenance relaxed into a beseeching smile, showing a set of the whitest teeth, thrusting forward his half-open palm, and jerking his long forelock with the other hand, he whimpered out: “CaritÀ, signori, si vi piaci. Signori, pauvre geen-peeg.” He had carried a guinea-pig on the top of his organ when in England, but all their property had been confiscated for arrears of rent, and they were sent home as paupers by the Italian consul.


What was our horror when on the following morning we looked out upon mountains of snow, without the slightest indication of any track. Our prospect of being able to proceed was doubtful enough. Both our host and the muleteer returned from reconnoitring with hopeless faces. Snow had been falling all night, and, until a track had been cleared, the road was quite impassable even for mules without a vehicle, and we were unfortunately so near the summit as to be beyond communication with either base. There was nothing for it but to remain where we were, and to be thankful for our escape.


The prospect of passing another night in these wretched quarters was not exhilarating; but my lame friend was so unequal to any exertion, that I did not dare (in opposition to the opinions of the driver and the padrone) to make any attempt to proceed. Moreover, we were getting more accustomed to the smell of oil and garlic, with which the whole atmosphere of the Refuge was impregnated. The surprise and confusion consequent upon our arrival had worn off; and we had fallen into our places more as members of the family than strangers.

As the second evening advanced, I took my last look of the snowy world, and found it dismal in the extreme. The sheds and yard in which the mules were picketed were barricaded against attack from the wolves which infest these Alpine ridges, two lamps being hung at either entrance as the best safeguard against these ferocious marauders, who become so bold during the winter months, as to carry away goats and sheep from beneath the very roofs of inhabited dwellings.

I now turned my attention to the prospects for the night; and having arranged a comfortable shake-down with the cushions of the carriage, I stretched myself on a bench; where our late exposure to the cold, added to the anxiety of the circumstances, aided and encouraged by the heat of a superb fire composed of roots and peat, lulled me into a profound sleep.

During this state of unconsciousness I travelled over miles of snow, the surface being sufficiently hard to carry my horses and sleigh without perforating it. I saw myriads of wolves and bears, which grinned and snarled at me as I passed, but did not interrupt my progress; on the contrary, they encouraged me by their gestures to proceed, always pointing onwards. It would have been well for me if I had disregarded their direction, as I flew on, urging my horses to a gallop, always ascending the hill, though I did not appear to get any higher; at length I turned upon the trackless height, out of consideration for my horses; and was about to descend into a ravine, when I found myself surrounded by hundreds of savages engaged in hot warfare. I was in the thick of the fight.

No firearms, no smoke; but a great deal of yelling and screaming.

I was surrounded by both sides; and though my appearance upon the field caused a momentary truce, hostilities were soon resumed, and I was struck in the chest by an arrow—which, being barbed, could not be extricated. I made great efforts to protect my lame friend from being trampled upon in the mÊlÉe. No more violence was offered, and I hoped, from the more subdued tones of the contending warriors, that negotiations for a peaceful solution of the strife—whatever it might be—were taking the place of the fight.


I tried to persuade myself that I had been dreaming, and that the barbed arrow in my breast was the effect of the hard savoyard upon which I had supped; but there was the reality. There was my poor friend imploring me to keep them off his broken limb. There were the savages, yelling and disputing in unknown languages, covered by their shields, and encased in armour which looked like straw bands bound round their legs to the knee.

The reader will have guessed the solution; and he is right. The savoyard and black bread upon which I supped, succeeded by the heavy sleep which was induced by the roaring fire, occasioned the dream which supplies the story. Late in the night the Refuge was invaded by a crowd of Piedmontese peasants, who are engaged to cut passes in the snow to enable the traffic to be carried on. These gangs are hired without reference to character or conduct; consequently, when the first deep snow of the winter occurs, it brings together many opposite feuds and factions, who take this opportunity of settling, either by stiletto or by words and wrangling, all existing differences.

Finding the snow not sufficiently settled to proceed with their operations, they had sought the nearest refuge to their work to await the lulling of the storm, their huge wooden shovels slung across their shoulders, and the straw bands round their legs doing duty for the shields and armour of the contending savages.


The remainder of the night was passed in a dense cloud of the smoke of bad tobacco, mingled with the vapours arising from our damp visitors.

I could not in common humanity leave my disabled comrade to the rough treatment of this army of road-cleaners, or I should have much preferred the outside elements, with all their severity, to the offensive atmosphere of the Refuge.


The dawn of day, however, brought with it a slight change in the direction of the wind, which had very much abated in its violence, and this enabled the men of the wooden shovels to clear out and continue their work. It was not till late on the following morning that the track had been sufficiently worked out for us to proceed. We then attached our mules to a sleigh and crawled to the summit, where we left our long team and proceeded, with one pair of horses, to descend the mountain.

When the snow has fallen in sufficient quantities to cover the road, carriages on wheels are abandoned, and the traffic is carried on by means of sleighs.


The descent is performed in a marvellously short time, the horses being very clever, and the driver having sufficient nerve to let them use their own discretion as to pace.


The railway terminus at St. Jean de Maurienne affording a good buffet, we were right glad of an opportunity of refreshing our exhausted systems with some civilised food, and, having done so, took the train to Paris.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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