Morning on Lake Geneva in Montreux |
Once we made it to Montreux, we immediately went to Chateau de Chillon, a castle built on a tiny island just off the shore in Montreux before 1150. The castle was controlled by the Savoys from the 1100s to 1536, when the Bernese invaded. The castle was under attack for one day, the only day of fighting it ever saw in its history. The Bernese then controlled Chillon from 1536 to 1798, when they abandoned it as the Vauds took over the region. Montreux is presently part of the canton of Vaud.
It is a good thing that we arrived to the castle a full half hour before the gates opened to allow us to enter, because we spent a significant amount of time walking around the castle from the outside. The guidebook I have says that Chillon is one of the most photographed things in Switzerland, and when you see how beautiful it is, it's perfectly understandable.
Once the castle opened at 10:00am, we crossed over the 18th century bridge over the castle moat (yes, an actual castle moat, but disappointed by the lack of alligators) to the first open room - the castle's cellar. The cellar dates all the way back to the 11th century. It has existed in the form you see today from the 13th century. The cellar held various storage items, as well as items like wines, that the Savoys wanted to control in the region. In the storage rooms, you can see the foundational rocks upon which the castle rests.
As you move through the cellar and storage rooms, you arrive at another storage room that was used for the armory. Ironically, in the armory is a heavy door that leads to the next two rooms - the prison/execution cell and the dungeon. Both rooms are damp, dark, and cold. It sits on the foundational rock directly and is actually below the water level.
Not quite to the dungeon. Better view than anything Bonivard saw for 6 years. |
Bonivard's actual window. He was chained to a pillar so he couldn't reach it. |
Bonivard chained right behind front pillar. |
Lord Byron, the vandal. |
My hair is gray, but not with years, | |
Nor grew it white | |
In a single night, | |
As men’s have grown from sudden fears; | |
My limbs are bow’d, though not with toil, | 5 |
But rusted with a vile repose, | |
For they have been a dungeon’s spoil, | |
And mine has been the fate of those | |
To whom the goodly earth and air | |
Are bann’d, and barr’d—forbidden fare; | 10 |
But this was for my father’s faith | |
I suffer’d chains and courted death; | |
That father perish’d at the stake | |
For tenets he would not forsake; | |
And for the same his lineal race | 15 |
In darkness found a dwelling-place. | |
We were seven—who now are one, | |
Six in youth, and one in age, | |
Finish’d as they had begun, | |
Proud of Persecution’s rage; | 20 |
One in fire, and two in field | |
Their belief with blood have seal’d, | |
Dying as their father died, | |
For the God their foes denied; | |
Three were in a dungeon cast, | 25 |
Of whom this wreck is left the last. | |
There are seven pillars of Gothic mould, | |
In Chillon’s dungeons deep and old, | |
There are seven columns, massy and gray, | |
Dim with a dull imprison’d ray, | 30 |
A sunbeam which hath lost its way, | |
And through the crevice and the cleft | |
Of the thick wall is fallen and left; | |
Creeping o’er the floor so damp, | |
Like a marsh’s meteor lamp. | 35 |
And in each pillar there is a ring, | |
And in each ring there is a chain; | |
That iron is a cankering thing, | |
For in these limbs its teeth remain, | |
With marks that will not wear away, | 40 |
Till I have done with this new day, | |
Which now is painful to these eyes, | |
Which have not seen the sun so rise | |
For years—I cannot count them o’er, | |
I lost their long and heavy score, | 45 |
When my last brother droop’d and died, | |
And I lay living by his side. | |
They chain’d us each to a column stone, | |
And we were three—yet, each alone; | |
We could not move a single pace, | 50 |
We could not see each other’s face, | |
But with that pale and livid light | |
That made us strangers in our sight: | |
And thus together—yet apart, | |
Fetter’d in hand, but join’d in heart, | 55 |
’Twas still some solace, in the dearth | |
Of the pure elements of earth, | |
To hearken to each other’s speech, | |
And each turn comforter to each | |
With some new hope, or legend old, | 60 |
Or song heroically bold; | |
But even these at length grew cold, | |
Our voices took a dreary tone, | |
An echo of the dungeon stone, | |
A grating sound, not full and free, | 65 |
As they of yore were wont to be; | |
It might be fancy, but to me | |
They never sounded like our own. | |
I was the eldest of the three, | |
And to uphold and cheer the rest | 70 |
I ought to do—and did my best; | |
And each did well in his degree. | |
The youngest, whom my father loved, | |
Because our mother’s brow was given | |
To him, with eyes as blue as heaven— | 75 |
For him my soul was sorely moved; | |
And truly might it be distress’d | |
To see such bird in such a nest; | |
For he was beautiful as day | |
(When day was beautiful to me | 80 |
As to young eagles, being free)— | |
A polar day, which will not see | |
A sunset till its summer’s gone, | |
Its sleepless summer of long light, | |
The snow-clad offspring of the sun: | 85 |
And thus he was as pure and bright, | |
And in his natural spirit gay, | |
With tears for nought but others’ ills; | |
And then they flow’d like mountain rills, | |
Unless he could assuage the woe | 90 |
Which he abhorr’d to view below. | |
The other was as pure of mind, | |
But form’d to combat with his kind; | |
Strong in his frame, and of a mood | |
Which ’gainst the world in war had stood, | 95 |
And perish’d in the foremost rank | |
With joy:—but not in chains to pine: | |
His spirit wither’d with their clank, | |
I saw it silently decline— | |
And so perchance in sooth did mine: | 100 |
But yet I forced it on to cheer | |
Those relics of a home so dear. | |
He was a hunter of the hills, | |
Had follow’d there the deer and wolf; | |
To him this dungeon was a gulf, | 105 |
And fetter’d feet the worst of ills. | |
Lake Leman lies by Chillon’s walls: | |
A thousand feet in depth below | |
Its massy waters meet and flow; | |
Thus much the fathom-line was sent | 110 |
From Chillon’s snow-white battlement | |
Which round about the wave inthrals: | |
A double dungeon wall and wave | |
Have made—and like a living grave. | |
Below the surface of the lake | 115 |
The dark vault lies wherein we lay, | |
We heard it ripple night and day; | |
Sounding o’er our heads it knock’d; | |
And I have felt the winter’s spray | |
Wash through the bars when winds were high | 120 |
And wanton in the happy sky; | |
And then the very rock hath rock’d, | |
And I have felt it shake, unshock’d | |
Because I could have smiled to see | |
The death that would have set me free. | 125 |
I said my nearer brother pined, | |
I said his mighty heart declined, | |
He loathed and put away his food; | |
It was not that ’twas coarse and rude, | |
For we were used to hunter’s fare, | 130 |
And for the like had little care. | |
The milk drawn from the mountain goat | |
Was changed for water from the moat, | |
Our bread was such as captives’ tears | |
Have moistened many a thousand years, | 135 |
Since man first pent his fellow men | |
Like brutes within an iron den; | |
But what were these to us or him? | |
These wasted not his heart or limb; | |
My brother’s soul was of that mould | 140 |
Which in a palace had grown cold, | |
Had his free breathing been denied | |
The range of the steep mountain’s side. | |
But why delay the truth?—he died. | |
I saw, and could not hold his head, | 145 |
Nor reach his dying hand—nor dead,— | |
Though hard I strove, but strove in vain | |
To rend and gnash my bonds in twain. | |
He died,—and they unlock’d his chain, | |
And scoop’d for him a shallow grave | 150 |
Even from the cold earth of our cave. | |
I begg’d them, as a boon, to lay | |
His corse in dust whereon the day | |
Might shine—it was a foolish thought, | |
But then within my brain it wrought, | 155 |
That even in death his freeborn breast | |
In such a dungeon could not rest. | |
I might have spared my idle prayer; | |
They coldly laugh’d—and laid him there: | |
The flat and turfless earth above | 160 |
The being we so much did love; | |
His empty chain above it leant, | |
Such murder’s fitting monument! | |
But he, the favourite and the flower, | |
Most cherish’d since his natal hour, | 165 |
His mother’s image in fair face, | |
The infant love of all his race, | |
His martyr’d father’s dearest thought, | |
My latest care for whom I sought | |
To hoard my life, that his might be | 170 |
Less wretched now, and one day free; | |
He, too, who yet had held untired | |
A spirit natural or inspired— | |
He, too, was struck, and day by day | |
Was wither’d on the stalk away. | 175 |
Oh, God! it is a fearful thing | |
To see the human soul take wing | |
In any shape, in any mood:— | |
I’ve seen it rushing forth in blood, | |
I’ve seen it on the breaking ocean | 180 |
Strive with a swoln convulsive motion, | |
I’ve seen the sick and ghastly bed | |
Of Sin delirious with its dread: | |
But these were horrors—this was woe | |
Unmix’d with such—but sure and slow. | 185 |
He faded, and so calm and meek, | |
So softly worn, so sweetly weak, | |
So tearless, yet so tender—kind, | |
And grieved for those he left behind; | |
With all the while a cheek whose bloom | 190 |
Was as a mockery of the tomb, | |
Whose tints as gently sunk away | |
As a departing rainbow’s ray; | |
An eye of most transparent light, | |
That almost made the dungeon bright; | 195 |
And not a word of murmur, not | |
A groan o’er his untimely lot,— | |
A little talk of better days, | |
A little hope my own to raise, | |
For I was sunk in silence—lost | 200 |
In this last loss, of all the most; | |
And then the sighs he would suppress | |
Of fainting nature’s feebleness, | |
More slowly drawn, grew less and less. | |
I listen’d, but I could not hear— | 205 |
I call’d, for I was wild with fear; | |
I knew ’t was hopeless, but my dread | |
Would not be thus admonishèd. | |
I call’d, and thought I heard a sound— | |
I burst my chain with one strong bound, | 210 |
And rush’d to him:—I found him not, | |
I only stirr’d in this black spot, | |
I only lived, I only drew | |
The accursèd breath of dungeon-dew; | |
The last—the sole—the dearest link | 215 |
Between me and the eternal brink, | |
Which bound me to my failing race, | |
Was broken in this fatal place. | |
One on the earth, and one beneath— | |
My brothers—both had ceased to breathe: | 220 |
I took that hand which lay so still, | |
Alas! my own was full as chill; | |
I had not strength to stir, or strive, | |
But felt that I was still alive— | |
A frantic feeling, when we know | 225 |
That what we love shall ne’er be so. | |
I know not why | |
I could not die, | |
I had no earthly hope—but faith, | |
And that forbade a selfish death. | 230 |
What next befell me then and there | |
I know not well—I never knew; | |
First came the loss of light, and air, | |
And then of darkness too: | |
I had no thought, no feeling—none— | 235 |
Among the stones, I stood a stone, | |
And was, scarce conscious what I wist, | |
As shrubless crags within the mist; | |
For all was blank, and bleak, and gray; | |
It was not night—it was not day; | 240 |
It was not even the dungeon-light, | |
So hateful to my heavy sight, | |
But vacancy absorbing space, | |
And fixedness—without a place; | |
There were no stars, no earth, no time, | 245 |
No check, no change, no good, no crime, | |
But silence, and a stirless breath | |
Which neither was of life nor death; | |
A sea of stagnant idleness, | |
Blind, boundless, mute, and motionless! | 250 |
A light broke in upon my brain,— | |
It was the carol of a bird; | |
It ceased, and then it came again, | |
The sweetest song ear ever heard, | |
And mine was thankful till my eyes | 255 |
Ran over with the glad surprise, | |
And they that moment could not see | |
I was the mate of misery. | |
But then by dull degrees came back | |
My senses to their wonted track; | 260 |
I saw the dungeon walls and floor | |
Close slowly round me as before, | |
I saw the glimmer of the sun | |
Creeping as it before had done, | |
But through the crevice where it came | 265 |
That bird was perched, as fond and tame, | |
And tamer than upon the tree; | |
A lovely bird, with azure wings, | |
And song that said a thousand things, | |
And seemed to say them all for me! | 270 |
I never saw its like before, | |
I ne’er shall see its likeness more; | |
It seemed like me to want a mate, | |
But was not half so desolate, | |
And it was come to love me when | 275 |
None lived to love me so again, | |
And cheering from my dungeon’s brink, | |
Had brought me back to feel and think. | |
I know not if it late were free, | |
Or broke its cage to perch on mine, | 280 |
But knowing well captivity, | |
Sweet bird! I could not wish for thine! | |
Or if it were, in wingèd guise, | |
A visitant from Paradise; | |
For—Heaven forgive that thought! the while | 285 |
Which made me both to weep and smile— | |
I sometimes deem’d that it might be | |
My brother’s soul come down to me; | |
But then at last away it flew, | |
And then ’twas mortal well I knew, | 290 |
For he would never thus have flown, | |
And left me twice so doubly lone, | |
Lone—as the corse within its shroud, | |
Lone—as a solitary cloud, | |
A single cloud on a sunny day, | 295 |
While all the rest of heaven is clear, | |
A frown upon the atmosphere | |
That hath no business to appear | |
When skies are blue and earth is gay. | |
A kind of change came in my fate, | 300 |
My keepers grew compassionate; | |
I know not what had made them so, | |
They were inured to sights of woe, | |
But so it was:—my broken chain | |
With links unfasten’d did remain, | 305 |
And it was liberty to stride | |
Along my cell from side to side, | |
And up and down, and then athwart, | |
And tread it over every part; | |
And round the pillars one by one, | 310 |
Returning where my walk begun, | |
Avoiding only, as I trod, | |
My brothers’ graves without a sod; | |
For if I thought with heedless tread | |
My steps profaned their lowly bed, | 315 |
My breath came gaspingly and thick, | |
And my crush’d heart fell blind and sick. | |
I made a footing in the wall, | |
It was not therefrom to escape, | |
For I had buried one and all | 320 |
Who loved me in a human shape; | |
And the whole earth would henceforth be | |
A wider prison unto me: | |
No child, no sire, no kin had I, | |
No partner in my misery; | 325 |
I thought of this, and I was glad, | |
For thought of them had made me mad; | |
But I was curious to ascend | |
To my barr’d windows, and to bend | |
Once more, upon the mountains high, | 330 |
The quiet of a loving eye. | |
I saw them—and they were the same. | |
They were not changed like me in frame; | |
I saw their thousand years of snow | |
On high—their wide long lake below, | 335 |
And the blue Rhone in fullest flow; | |
I heard the torrents leap and gush | |
O’er channell’d rock and broken bush; | |
I saw the white-wall’d distant town, | |
And whiter sails go skimming down; | 340 |
And then there was a little isle, | |
Which in my very face did smile, | |
The only one in view; | |
A small green isle, it seem’d no more, | |
Scarce broader than my dungeon floor, | 345 |
But in it there were three tall trees, | |
And o’er it blew the mountain breeze, | |
And by it there were waters flowing, | |
And on it there were young flowers growing | |
Of gentle breath and hue. | 350 |
The fish swam by the castle wall, | |
And they seem’d joyous each and all; | |
The eagle rode the rising blast, | |
Methought he never flew so fast | |
As then to me he seem’d to fly; | 355 |
And then new tears came in my eye, | |
And I felt troubled and would fain | |
I had not left my recent chain. | |
And when I did descend again, | |
The darkness of my dim abode | 360 |
Fell on me as a heavy load; | |
It was as is a new-dug grave, | |
Closing o’er one we sought to save; | |
And yet my glance, too much opprest, | |
Had almost need of such a rest. | 365 |
It might be months, or years, or days— | |
I kept no count, I took no note, | |
I had no hope my eyes to raise, | |
And clear them of their dreary mote. | |
At last men came to set me free; | 370 |
I ask’d not why, and reck’d not where, | |
It was at length the same to me, | |
Fetter’d or fetterless to be, | |
I learn’d to love despair. | |
And thus when they appear’d at last, | 375 |
And all my bonds aside were cast, | |
These heavy walls to me had grown | |
A hermitage—and all my own! | |
And half I felt as they were come | |
To tear me from a second home: | 380 |
With spiders I had friendship made, | |
And watch’d them in their sullen trade, | |
Had seen the mice by moonlight play, | |
And why should I feel less than they? | |
We were all inmates of one place, | 385 |
And I, the monarch of each race, | |
Had power to kill—yet, strange to tell! | |
In quiet we had learn’d to dwell— | |
My very chains and I grew friends, | |
So much a long communion tends | 390 |
To make us what we are:—even I | |
Regain’d my freedom with a sigh. |
From the dungeons and Bonivard's prison, you can make your way to the old crypt. The crypt used to serve as a crypt and chapel in the 11th century, and the altar that still stands is the oldest surviving religious artifact in the castle. Today, all that remains of the original chapel is part of the stairway and the altar (the chapel was underground and then a new one was constructed on top of it in the 13th century). Just next to the old chapel is the fortification wall from the 13th century, the first fortification made to the castle.
The castle kept growing and expanding throughout the centuries, and you can get lost exploring the rooms above. The coat of arms hall was one of the most impressive restorations because you can see the original paintings of all the coat of arms of the Bernese bailiffs who administered the castle from 1536 until 1798, when the Vauds took over.
Above the exiting door, there is the white and green crest of Vaud.
The view of the castle's keep from the courtyard is impressive, and this was the tallest, most isolated part of the castle - and therefore the most secure.
Rapunzel? |
View from the tower. |
Chillon stained glass. |
Old horse stables. |
Mountains, Lake Geneva, and Montreux from Chateau de Chillon |
The train then proceeded through a series of tunnels, then woods, then tunnels, then woods, then a really long, dark tunnel...before emerging into an amazing view. The thick forest broke to reveal beautiful, snow-capped mountains and a bright blue sky dotted with only the occasional cloud. You could tell which passengers on the train were locals and which were tourists, because the locals did not look up from their newspapers/notebooks, while my friend and I were marveling aloud about how great the sight was, as we moved from seat to seat to get a better view.
We only rode the train for one hour - from Montreux to a little village in the mountains called Chateau d'Oex. We did not stay in the village too long, because we had to make our way back down to Montreux to head to Lausanne. There was also a noticeable temperature difference the higher we went in the mountains that we had not really considered when packing jackets for the day (I was rockin' a sweater and a windbreaker). But again, the little Swiss village in the mountains was pretty great.
Once we made it from the train station in Lausanne over to Lake Geneva to walk to the Olympic Museum, we lucked out with more amazing views of the lake and the mountains. Coming from Michigan, I need the lakes, and mountains are a rare treat and pleasant surprise. Seeing the ferry boats out along the water was great too. In the springtime, I hope to take a boat along Lake Geneva from the Old Town in Geneva to enjoy being out on the water. If I can find a place to rent a kayak, I will absolutely take time to do that.
In Lausanne, the first thing we saw was the Olympic Museum. Lausanne is the headquarters of the International Olympic Committee (IOC) and until January 23rd, 2014, there is free entrance at the museum. There were many cool exhibits at the museum and learning about the IOC's history, the athletes themselves, and the science and technology behind the equipment and clothing that keeps the athletes safe while maximizing their abilities was really neat.
Rocky's view from the top steps of the Olympic Museum |
There was also a photo display along one wall of all the different body types of Olympians at the top of their sports, both men and women. You can read more about the photos online here.
That photo is in a nice contrast to the giant man's 6-pack-and-then-some abdominal muscles just outside the main entrance. The giant ab statue is inscribed with the Olympics' motto underneath: Faster, Higher, Stronger (Citius, Altius, Fortius).
An added benefit is the beautiful view from the museum of Lake Geneva on the Alps, which we were fortunate to see during the day and at dusk. We even saw lake boats passing along by the shore at both times, framed beautifully by the surrounding landscape.
Evening Panorama of Lake Geneva from Lausanne |
Lausanne by night from park behind Cathedral |
Cathedral doorway |
The one picture I took in Nyon. We were there for like 30 minutes total and I needed something to show for it, |
1 comments:
excellent pictures! my favorites are of the lakes. how beautiful. JO
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