Swiss allmends, and a walk to see them

In Short

This travelogue documents a summer excursion through Switzerland, focusing on the Allmends—the historic commonable lands held by local communes. Blending precise topographical descriptions with sociological analysis, the author investigates how these ancient pastoral systems survive in an era of rapid modernization and population growth. By examining both the natural beauty of the mountains and the lives of the peasants who work them, the author argues that the old communal structures are increasingly at odds with the demands of modern economic life, offering a rare window into nineteenth-century agrarian history.

The Story

The narrative follows the author’s second summer excursion through Switzerland, a journey undertaken with the explicit purpose of studying the Allmends. These common lands, which have roots stretching back to the pastoral origins of European society, represent a system where the right to use mountain pastures is an inherent, blood-borne privilege of the local burger. The author begins by situating this practice within the broader context of Swiss geography and economics, noting that while other nations moved toward private land ownership, Switzerland’s rugged terrain preserved these collective arrangements.

As the journey unfolds, the author travels through various regions, including the valleys near the Brünig Pass and the industrializing town of Glarus. He observes the stark contrast between the traditional, snow-bound existence of the mountain peasants and the factory-driven life of the lowland towns. The author’s guide, Ammer, provides a cynical, practical counterpoint to the author’s philosophical inquiries, frequently criticizing the lethargy and priest-led ignorance he perceives in the Upper Valais. Through these dialogues and observations, the author examines the "puzzle" of the modern Allmends: why individuals who possess an ancient, inherited right to common resources often find themselves unable to afford the cows necessary to utilize them.

The author shifts his attention from the physical landscape to the social and religious structures that govern these communities. In places like Einsiedln and Engelberg, he confronts the power of the Catholic Church, which he views as a force that maintains a "vested interest" in the ignorance of the peasantry, discouraging intellectual growth and independence. He contrasts this with the emerging industrial reality, where factories and steam power are fundamentally altering the social fabric.

The arc of the book reaches a conclusion not in a grand climax, but in a systematic assessment of the Allmends’ future. The author concludes that the system is "utterly inapplicable" to modern conditions. He argues that as society shifts from a purely pastoral model to one defined by capital and wage labor, the Allmends lose their utility and can even become "noxious," creating poverty where they once ensured survival. He posits that material interests will eventually force the dissolution of these old arrangements, just as historical forces swept away similar systems elsewhere. The book ends by reflecting on the responsibility of the traveler—urging his fellow Englishmen to abandon their insular, judgmental attitudes and instead practice tolerance, acknowledging that the world is evolving according to economic imperatives that prioritize individual survival over tradition.

How It Unfolds

The premise of the study The author sets out to fill a gap in his previous observations by conducting a focused inquiry into the Allmends. He secures assistance from government officials and local investigators to ensure his findings are grounded in official statistics and historical reality.

Observations in the mountains The author traverses the Brünig Pass and visits Lungern, where he watches peasants work land reclaimed from a lowered lake. He encounters a local woman seeking to learn English, highlighting the desire for social mobility that drives even the most rural populations.

The critique of the Valais Through his companion Ammer, the author explores the intellectual stagnation of the Upper Valais. He connects this lack of progress to the influence of the local priesthood, which he believes stifles the development of independent thought.

Industrial realities in Glarus The tour moves to the manufacturing center of Glarus, where the author inspects allotments and factories. He observes that the need to rebuild after a great fire has forced the town to adapt its traditional land practices to accommodate an operative population.

The conclusion of the inquiry The author synthesizes his data to show that the Allmends are no longer economically viable for the majority of participants. He asserts that modern capital offers a more efficient means of support, rendering the traditional communal rights an outdated relic.

The People

The author, an observant and analytical Victorian clergyman, serves as the primary lens through which the reader views the Swiss landscape. He is motivated by a desire to understand the "moral causes of national and individual prosperity." His skepticism regarding religious authority and his belief in the supremacy of material development define his analytical approach.

Ammer, the author’s guide, acts as a sharp, often cynical foil. He is deeply prejudiced against the inhabitants of the Valais, whom he views as lazy and priest-ridden. Ammer’s constant disparagement of the Valaisans provides the author with a local, if biased, perspective on the social issues of the region. He remains a mysterious figure, particularly regarding his Sunday attire, which he appears to borrow, perhaps to maintain a facade of respectability.

The local peasants, while not central figures in the sense of a plot, provide the human element that grounds the author’s theories. They are defined by their struggle to maintain ancestral rights in a changing world. Some are "rigidly practical," focusing only on potato crops, while others, having lost the means to keep cows, look on as the wealthier innkeepers benefit from the common pastures, illustrating the widening gap between the haves and have-nots within these historic communities.

In Its Own Voice

The interest of a walk among the mountains never flags, whether they are naked, or clothed with forest; and still more, if the ground you are passing over is diversified with forests, prairies, rocks, upland pastures, and streams.

The author reflects on the enduring aesthetic appeal of the Swiss landscape during his hike toward Lungern.

The fact is that the old system is utterly inapplicable to the new conditions into which society has advanced.

The author concludes his study of the Allmends, arguing that communal land is a vestige of a pastoral era that cannot survive the rise of modern capital.

If you find it dull, then go on to the Eggischhorn, or Bell Alp, taking with you the thought that friendliness and tolerance, like their opposites, are repaid in kind.

The author concludes his advice to fellow travelers, emphasizing the importance of an open mind when visiting tourist-heavy alpine resorts.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an investigation into the inevitable collision between tradition and progress. The author uses the Swiss Allmends as a case study to argue that economic necessity is the primary driver of social change. He challenges the reader to look past the picturesque, postcard-ready image of Switzerland to see the "moral causes" of prosperity—or the lack thereof. The central question is whether collective rights, however ancient or noble in intent, can survive in a world defined by industrial production and mobile capital. Ultimately, the author posits that moral and intellectual advancement is contingent upon first securing material stability, suggesting that the "old ways" must eventually yield to the efficiency of the modern age.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of land reform, European sociology, or the evolution of travel writing will find this volume particularly rewarding. The author’s prose is precise and unburdened by modern sentimentality, offering a clear-eyed look at the economic machinery of the Swiss Alps in the 1870s. However, contemporary readers should be prepared for the author’s staunchly Victorian perspective, particularly his overt anti-clericalism and his assumption of British cultural superiority. These attitudes, while occasionally jarring, provide a genuine portrait of the intellectual climate of his time. The book is not a fast-paced narrative but a series of reflections that demand a thoughtful, patient reader. It succeeds in capturing the feeling of a bygone era, where the slow pace of a mountain walk allowed for profound, if sometimes rigid, observations about the shifting foundations of the world. Those who enjoy deep, analytical travel literature—where the landscape is merely a starting point for broader philosophical debate—will find this a rewarding, if challenging, historical companion.