Villars and Its Environs

In Short

Blending travelogue, history, and a spirited defense of Alpine exploration, this work serves as an evocative portrait of the region surrounding Villars-le-Grand. It traverses the Rhone valley’s dramatic geography, from the somnolent town of Bex to the high-altitude, sun-drenched slopes of the winter resorts. By incorporating contributions from seasoned climbers, skaters, and local devotees, the author captures a world in transition—where traditional mountain life meets the organized, energetic "industry of strangers" that defined Swiss tourism in the years leading up to the First World War.

The Story

The narrative begins with a panoramic survey of the Rhone valley, a space the author describes as a "compact of great variety." This region, split between the cantons of Vaud and Valais, serves as the stage for a journey that emphasizes the interplay between the ancient and the modern. The author first guides the reader toward St. Maurice, a town whose history is traced back to Roman fortifications and the legendary massacre of the Theban Legion. From these historic depths, the narrative moves to the "dream-like" town of Bex, a location the author defends against the dismissive critiques of philosophers like Voltaire, arguing that the proximity of the rugged Dent de Morcles and the Dent du Midi offers a perfection of nature that remains unparalleled.

As the journey progresses, the focus shifts toward the seasonal allure of the mountains. The author makes a passionate, forward-looking argument for the "Alpine spring," predicting that travellers will eventually abandon the rigid schedules of summer and winter to witness the flowers and melting snows of the transitional months. The narrative then ascends via a mountain railway to Villars, where the tone shifts from reflective description to the practical, enthusiastic accounts of winter sports. Here, the story expands through the voices of various contributors. A lighthearted anecdote regarding a bewildered tourist’s confusion over pine cones introduces the reader to the "conducted" nature of mountain travel, while subsequent accounts detail the intense, committee-led discipline of competitive figure skating, hockey, and skeleton racing.

The journey continues toward the resorts of Leysin and the secluded valley of Morgins. The author documents the rise of winter sport culture, illustrating how once-isolated villages became hubs for British enthusiasts. The narrative closes by venturing into the Val d’Illiez and finally to Champéry, a village cherished by the author for its "sweet severity." Throughout, the text acknowledges the complexities of this transformation, noting how the influx of foreign visitors has altered local customs—such as the gradual disappearance of traditional dress among local women—while simultaneously fostering a newfound appreciation for the rugged, healthy environment. The narrative ends not with a finality of exhaustion, but with a lingering reverence for the "awesome" solitude of the Susanfe valley, leaving the reader with the impression of a landscape that is both a playground for the modern athlete and an enduring, wild sanctuary.

How It Unfolds

The gateway of the Rhone The author introduces the Rhone valley as a compact, diverse corridor of history, detailing the Roman origins of St. Maurice and the ancient, enduring paths that connect the valley to Italy and Germany.

The dream of Bex The narrative shifts to the town of Bex, characterizing it as a somnolent, stage-like landscape where nature’s beauty compensates for the quiet pace of life.

The ascent to Villars The journey moves upward via a picturesque mountain railway, transitioning from the pastoral lowlands to the "majesty and mystery" of the high slopes.

The winter parliament The text delves into the organized social and athletic life of Villars, where committees dictate the weekly schedule of balls, ski expeditions, and competitive skating.

The skating temples Contributors detail the technical rigor of English figure skating and the evolution of the sport, highlighting the contrast between the rigid, modest style of the English and the more demonstrative Continental approach.

The discovery of Morgins The focus turns to the hidden valley of Morgins, portraying it as a "neutral zone" where intrepid British explorers discovered a frontier for high-level ski expeditions.

The radiance of Champéry The conclusion brings the reader to the rugged precipices of the Dents Blanches, reflecting on the beauty of the region in spring and the enduring power of the wild Alpine environment.

The People

The central figures are not specific protagonists, but rather the diverse types who populate the Alpine landscape. The Swiss peasants represent the bedrock of the region; the author highlights their historical toil, their "sturdy" character, and their traditional customs, such as the sensible clothing once worn by the women of Champéry—a practice the author notes has faded as visitors arrived. The English tourist appears in two forms: the "bewildered" visitor, typified by the couple who mistake pine cones for bananas, and the "serious-minded" sportsman.

Figures like Mr. D. R. Kelleher and Mr. E. F. Benson embody the dedication of the era’s visitors. Benson, a novelist and expert skater, is portrayed as the "Sanctum Sanctorum" of the rink—a man of "immobile hands" and rigid discipline who seeks to master the "unemotional facility" of English skating. Mr. Arnold Lunn serves as a bridge between the explorer and the enthusiast, characterizing the "men of Morgins" as individuals built of "sterner stuff" who reject the superficial leisure of the resorts in favor of genuine mountaineering. Collectively, these figures demonstrate the tension between the leisure-seeking visitor and the physical demands of the landscape, showing how the mountains transform the idle traveler into a disciplined participant in the life of the Alps.

In Its Own Voice

“There is no more interesting district in the Rhone valley, perhaps even in the whole of Switzerland, than that which lies around the north-western entrance to the upper and main portion of the Canton of Valais.”

The author begins the journey by establishing the geographical and historical significance of the region.

“The strong silent reserve of the Briton that scorns vulgar advertisement finds perfect expression in the sedate, dignified curves of the English school.”

Arnold Lunn discusses the ethical and aesthetic philosophy behind the English style of figure skating in the Alps.

What It's Really About

The book functions as an exploration of the paradox between modernization and wilderness. It asks whether the "industry of strangers" compromises the integrity of the Alpine environment or whether it provides a necessary conduit for people to experience nature’s restorative power. The author treats the mountains as a space where "necessity" and "pleasure" meet, arguing that the harsh, austere conditions of the Alps—often feared by city-dwellers—are actually the very source of vitality. Ultimately, it is an argument for the "healthful beneficence" of the mountains, suggesting that human engagement with the peaks, whether through sport or quiet observation, is an essential, life-affirming practice that transcends the boundaries of nationality and social custom.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate early twentieth-century travel writing will find this volume particularly rewarding. The prose is warm, observational, and deeply appreciative of the sensory details of the Alps—the "crisp and radiant snow," the "intense warm-blue shadows," and the "coral-pink" sunsets. It serves as a time capsule, capturing a specific, vanished era of tourism where the sport of bobsleighing was a new, dangerous novelty and the "conducted" tour was just beginning to shape the landscape.

The book is not without its challenges; the author’s style is occasionally formal and heavily laden with the period-typical assumption that the "English" way of doing things—from skating to social behavior—represents a gold standard of civilization. Furthermore, the reliance on multiple contributors means the narrative tone shifts abruptly, from the lyrical musings of the author to the clipped, technical reports of sports committee members. However, for those interested in the history of winter sports or the cultural shift in how Europeans viewed the "wild" mountains, it offers a fascinating perspective. You will come away with a vivid sense of the region’s geography and a nostalgic, if slightly dated, look at the beginnings of the mass-resort culture that still defines the Swiss Alps today.