Chapter 13

Hold, hurt him not, for God's sake;--he is mad.

Comedy of Errors.

The festivals of Bacchus are supposed to have been the models of those
long-continued festivities, which are still known in Switzerland by the
name of the Abbaye des Vignerons.

This fête was originally of a simple and rustic character, being far from
possessing the labored ceremonies and classical allegories of a later day,
the severity of monkish discipline most probably prohibiting the
introduction of allusions to the Heathen mythology, as was afterwards
practised; for certain religious communities that were the proprietors of
large vineyards in that vicinity appear to have been the first known
patrons of the custom. So long as a severe simplicity reigned in the
festivities, they were annually observed; but, when heavier expenses and
greater preparations became necessary, longer intervals succeeded; the
Abbaye, at first, causing its festival to become triennial, and
subsequently extending the period of vacation to six years. As greater
time was obtained for the collection of means and inclination, the
festival gained in _éclat_, until it came at length to be a species of
jubilee, to which the idle, the curious, and the observant of all the
adjacent territories were accustomed to resort in crowds. The town of
Vévey profited by the circumstance, the usual motive of interest being
enlisted in behalf of the usage, and, down to the epoch of the great
European revolution, there would seem to have been an unbroken succession
of the fêtes. The occasion to which there has so often been allusion, was
one of the regular and long-expected festivals; and, as report had spoken
largely of the preparations, the attendance was even more numerous than
usual.

Early on the morning of the second day after the arrival of our travellers
at the neighboring castle of Blonay, a body of men, dressed in the guise
of halberdiers, a species of troops then known in most of the courts of
Europe, marched into the great square of Vévey, taking possession of all
its centre, and posting its sentries in such a manner as to interdict the
usual passages of the place. This was the preliminary step in the coming
festivities; for this was the spot chosen for the scene of most of the
ceremonies of the day. The curious were not long behind the guards, and by
the time the sun had fairly arisen above the hills of Fribourg, some
thousands of spectators were pressing in and about the avenues of the
square, and boats from the opposite shores of Savoy were arriving at each
instant, crowded to the water's edge with peasants and their families.

Near the upper end of the square, capacious scaffoldings had been erected
to contain those who