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NOTES AND REFLECTIONS 
 
 RAMBLE IN GERMANY. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 « RECOLLECTIONS IN THE PENINSULA," 
 
 " SKETCHES OF INDIA," 
 
 SCENES AND IMPRESSIONS IN EGYPT AND ITALY, 
 
 AND " STORY OF A LIFE." 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR 
 
 LONGMAN, REES, ORME, BROWN, AND GREEN, 
 
 PATERNOSTER-ROIV. 
 
 1826. 
 

 ?s\ 
 
 London : 
 
 Printed by A. & R. Spottiswoode, 
 
 New- Street- Square. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 As I walked about my chamber at Frank- 
 fort, pronouncing, with no very fehcitous 
 accent, the " /c/«," " Mc/^," " Sich;' of the 
 German grammar, I remembered the saying 
 of Bacon, — " He that travelleth into a 
 country before he hath some entrance 
 into the language, goeth to school, and 
 not to travel." Nevertheless, the un- 
 satisfied eye demanded of me that it might 
 gaze on Germany, pleading with me that 
 it spoke all languages, and could interpret 
 all ; and that there was much in all coun- 
 tries intelligible to the eye, and to the eye 
 alone. With the exception of the cele- 
 brated work of Madame de Stael, and 
 
 105139 
 
IV 
 
 the admirable Tour of Mr. Russel, so 
 little has been written on the subject of 
 Germany, that the most meagre contri- 
 bution of a chance traveller in that coun- 
 try scarcely needs any apology. My brief 
 notices of such places in Flanders and 
 Switzerland as I traversed in my route 
 belong, of necessity, to the character of a 
 volume which is but the personal nar- 
 rative of an autumnal excursion on the 
 Continent. 
 
 Cla-VErton Farm, 
 Aug. 28. 1826. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 It is a pleasant thing to be awakened by 
 the morning sun shining in on new and 
 unfamiliar objects, and to find yourself in 
 the chamber of a foreign hotel, actually 
 upon the Continent; your projected tour 
 fairly begun, your passport, your pocket- 
 book, your purse, safe on the chair beside 
 you ; your portmanteau, and sac de nuit, 
 that have safely passed the ordeal of the 
 rumpling hand, ready for instant departure, 
 or long sojourn, as their master shall de- 
 termine ; and cares, packets, and the cus- 
 tom-house behind you. 
 
 B 
 
2 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 It is a saying of Augustine, that " the 
 world is a great book, of which they who 
 never stir from home read only a page." 
 It is with a delighted attention .that we 
 gaze upon new objects. Curiosity is 
 awakened, and some knowledge is sure to 
 be acquired even by the gazer, not indeed 
 very profound, but nevertheless of value. 
 
 Calais, Boulogne, and Dieppe have be- 
 come of late years half English ; and the 
 British traveller hardly feels himself abroad 
 in such places. Commend me, therefore, 
 as a point of debarkation, to Rotterdam ; 
 the city is interesting, and the change from 
 home and contrast to it are striking. The 
 canals are all smooth, and still, and co- 
 vered with schuyts. In one of these I saw 
 a broad Dutch sailor in a shirt of red flan- 
 nel, and big breeches, employed with a 
 bucket in clashing water over the bows of 
 his craft ; for what I was at a loss to con- 
 jecture, seeing that it was already of a clean- 
 liness, which seemed to resent the notion 
 of its having ever been defiled by use 
 heretofore, or designed for it hereafter. In 
 fact, were it not for the size of these schuyts, 
 
INTRODUCTION. 3 
 
 and the dirty red shirts of their guardians, 
 you might fancy them mere models — bright 
 brown models for the show-room of an 
 arsenal. There is not a bit of brass work 
 or a nail-head about them, that does not 
 glisten, and the anchors hang over the 
 bows as polished as if they were some 
 kind of large and noble weapons, not to 
 grapple with foul mud, but with a hostile 
 galley. 
 
 The city is a strange object ; there are 
 many things toy-like about it. If you pass 
 a shop, for instance, of a mere huckster ; 
 the painted tubs, the cannisters, the mea- 
 sures, the scales, are all of a shining neat- 
 ness, that you cannot reconcile with the 
 idea of their being ever used ; and the red 
 unsmiling face of the seated shopman might 
 divert the fancy with a playful doubt as to 
 his being anything more than some larger 
 creation of the ingenious toyman. Thus it 
 is with the houses generally: — the win- 
 dows, the doors, the posts, the rails, the 
 ornamental iron work, are all of a bright- 
 ness, at once pleasing and forbidding : you 
 doubt if any dare breathe on the windows, 
 B 2 
 
4 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 or touch the knockers. The colours too 
 are all peculiar to the land, — doors, win- 
 dow-shutters, sash^rames ; the green, the 
 red, the yellow, have a depth, and a kind 
 of dull yet rich gravity about them, quite 
 different from the like-named colours with 
 lis. 
 
 Except a few of the old Dutch skippers, 
 there is little remarkable in costume. In 
 the markets, indeed, some of the country- 
 women attract attention by the size and 
 form of their ear-rings, and of those large 
 plaques of thin gold, or gilt metal at the 
 sides of their head ; but the dress both of 
 men and women, in their respective classes, 
 is a something belonging, strictly, neither 
 to that of England or France, but par- 
 taking the fashion of both countries. A few 
 of the elderly females of the middle class, 
 and upper maid-servants of the like age, 
 wear the decent dress, which I remember 
 in my boyhood to have seen on the same 
 classes in old England : — the plain caps 
 and frills, the kerchiefs wrapping over the 
 bosom, the fair uncovered arm, the round, 
 full, nurselike form, and the quiet motherly 
 
INTRODUCTION. 5 
 
 look, together with their remarkable fair- 
 ness of complexion, are very pleasing to 
 the eye of an Englishman ; and, with many, 
 will bring back the thoughts of their nur- 
 sery days. 
 
 The inhabitants, generally, look as if the 
 busy world had left them behind in the 
 race of life, and as if they were too slow to 
 recover their lost ground. I was particu- 
 larly struck with their late rising, and with 
 the slow and measured manner of all their 
 labour, — between the hours of five and 
 six, on a July morning, I scarce encoun- 
 tered a soul, and few houses were open 
 when I returned to mine. The sledges, 
 which go about with burthens, are drawn by 
 large powerful animals with full manes and 
 long tails : they are shod in an uncouth 
 manner, fitted only for a slow high walk, 
 and they seem subdued by situation to an 
 unhorselike tameness. On a market day 
 there is a little more stir ; some waggons 
 are driven in at a trot, and you instantly 
 recognize, in their forms, the vehicles 
 which the old Dutch and Flemish mas- 
 B 3 
 
6 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ters have made us all familiar with. I saw 
 few beggars ; and these not in rags, thev 
 seemed only to ask charity from those in 
 the middle class, and their dbord was ra- 
 ther a coax than a craving, and generally- 
 ventured on near the beer-house benches. 
 
 I should perhaps have doubted the ex- 
 istence of mirth in Rotterdam, if a boat, 
 returning from the fair at Brill, had not 
 passed under my windows the evening 
 before I went away. They were " the 
 happy low," and loudly happy ; they 
 danced with bent and lifted knees, and 
 chins depressed ; they sung out^ and they 
 drowned the softer tabor. Heads were 
 thrust from every window, and the sym- 
 pathy of good humour shone in all coun- 
 tenances as the groupe floated past, en- 
 acting their joy, and apparently rather de- 
 lighted than disturbed by the public gaze. 
 But the sounds of joy are few in this city: 
 they certainly are not of a cheerful cha- 
 racter in the Spiel Huis Straat ; through 
 which if you walk after dusk, you will see 
 mean curtains hanging before many doors, 
 and from the lights behind, and the vile 
 
INTRODUCTION. 7 
 
 scraping of fiddles, and the discordant roar 
 of Dutch sea-songs, you may know those 
 wretched places, concerning which so many 
 travellers have written, and not a few un- 
 faithfully. I believe that they are the re- 
 sorts of the very lowest class, and that (in 
 Rotterdam) a Hollander of any respect- 
 ability is never to be seen in them. If it 
 had been possible, in the garb of a gen- 
 tleman, to have ascertained their exact 
 state, I should unhesitatingly have entered 
 them ; for the system is but the remnant 
 of a cruel, and once general custom in 
 Europe, no doubt imported from the East. 
 In our older dramatists, the system of the 
 old licensed brothels in London is spoken 
 of as nearly the same, and the unhappy 
 state of their enslaved inmates is not un- 
 frequently alluded to. 
 
 In spite of the tame regularity of straight 
 canals, and trees dotted in rows, there are 
 many good views in Rotterdam. The Boom 
 Quay is a noble street, commanding a 
 fair prospect, and the houses are excellent, 
 with large handsome windows of plate 
 B 4 
 
8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 glass. In many quarters, where you can 
 take your stand so as to catch a point of 
 view with the water, the house gables and 
 their adorned tops, the white draw-bridges, 
 the foliage of the trees en masse, and the 
 stately tower of St. Lawrence rising above 
 all, the effect is truly imposing. 
 
 The view from the top of this tower is 
 also a fine thing : the eye ranges over a 
 vast tract of flooded country, — over green 
 flats, canals, dyke roads, and avenues of 
 trees ; and many towers and spires glitter 
 in the distance. 
 
 The suburbs of Rotterdam are not re- 
 markable, and the villas would find little 
 favour in any eye save that of a retired 
 skipper, or a pipe4oving burgomaster. The 
 lanes here, and the smaller canals, are less 
 cleanly, covered with a green scum, and 
 the smell disagreeable. 
 
 The great square, or market-place, is 
 adorned with a statue, which does honour 
 to the citizens. The equestrian statue of 
 a hero would seem ill placed in this still 
 city of waters ; a rough admiral, or a rich 
 merchant, are the only characters whose 
 
INTRODUCTION. y 
 
 apotheosis you would look for in such a spot. 
 The figure of Erasmus in bronze, in the 
 cap and robe of an ecclesiastic, and a 
 scholar with a book open in his hand, is 
 the fine and peaceful-looking ornament of 
 which I speak. 
 
 Some of the hot hours of noon may be 
 pleasantly passed in looking at the pic- 
 tures of Baron Lockhorst. The collec- 
 tion is not large or fine, but picture-gazing 
 is an amusement of which the true tra- 
 veller seldom tires. Dutch paintings have 
 a character of uncommon truth. I have 
 observed that the rich and the great are 
 generally partial to this school, which I 
 fancy I can easily account for, and greatly 
 to their credit. It would seem they desired 
 to have before them faithful pictures of the 
 enjoyments of low life, as if to assure them- 
 selves (could any of them need such as- 
 surance,) that they did not possess a mono- 
 poly of the means of happiness. Hence 
 these endless repetitions of fairs and fire- 
 side scenes, and groups of boors smoking 
 and drinking ; of women cleaning, cook- 
 ing, and working at the needle ; of furni- 
 
10 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ture, kitchen utensils, provisions ; of red 
 glowing fires, and bright burning candles ; 
 of old persons counting their money, and 
 boys warming their fingers. Dutch land- 
 scapes, too, are very delightful. The sea- 
 views, the fishing-boats, the banks of 
 grass, and the living cattle of Paul Potter ; 
 ■ — the smooth water, the reflected build- 
 ings, the clear skies, and the cows, which 
 you may touch, as it were, of Cuyp ; — 
 these private cabinets seen, — a visit paid 
 to the public library, and to the room 
 where the Academy of Sciences hold their 
 sittings, and where I saw some good in- 
 struments, and bad portraits ; — these things 
 all done, I departed, taking the route of 
 Flanders. 
 
 I must not, however, leave Rotterdam 
 without recording one pleasure I enjoyed 
 there new to me, and therefore, perhaps, 
 so prized at the time, and thought upon so 
 often since with a treasured delight ; — I 
 mean the sound of the carillons. I shall 
 never forget it : they strike out upon the 
 silence, with a sweet and silvery promise 
 in their beginning, — and thrill youj — then, 
 
INTRODUCTION. 11 
 
 suddenly, in the very midst of their kind 
 music, they break off, and leave you, — sad, 
 — happily sad. * 
 
 I left Rotterdam for Antwerp in a steam- 
 packet ; the passage was delightful. The 
 light throb of the heart is, for a moment, 
 checked, if you chance to look into a 
 guide-book, as you approach Dort ; for 
 there you find that you are sailing over the 
 ruins of seventy-two villages, which, with 
 all their inhabitants, were destroyed by an 
 eruption of the rivers, in 1421 : — but the 
 quick rushing of the vessel carries you 
 soon away from the spot, and the vain 
 emotion of a vainer sorrow is willingly 
 dismissed. 
 
 The distant view of Antwerp, as you ap- 
 proach it up the Scheldt, is lordly. The 
 lofty tower of the cathedral, glorious and 
 pinnacled, rises above the city of its chil- 
 
 * Dr. Burney styles the carillons, in a forceful and 
 contemptuous expression, " corals for grown gentlemen." 
 In the face of this great authority, (who, by the way, 
 disputed the merit of Handel,) I confess myself a grown 
 gentleman, as pleased with them as ever baby was with 
 its silver bells. 
 
12 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 dren, with Inconceivable majesty and beauty. 
 It is noble, noble ! You wish the deck 
 clear, or silent ; - — it is an object to gaze 
 at, and fetch your breath. You land on a 
 spacious quay, — you pass into a square, — 
 and, as you pause there, where an angle 
 opens upon the near view of the proud 
 cathedral, with its air of Gothic grandeur ; 
 and as you look around upon ancient 
 houses, magnificent palaces, and sumptuous 
 public edifices, you feel it to have been a 
 fitting scene for tapestry and trumpets, 
 and those grey war-horses that the great 
 Rubens was wont to take delight in paint- 
 ing. 
 
 I no sooner reached my hotel than I 
 procured a cabriolet, and drove out of the 
 city, and in part round the works. En- 
 tering again, I found the garrison on the 
 glacis at drill, a great part in squads, with- 
 out their arms. They were Swiss, fine, 
 clean, healthy looking men, and well 
 clothed. Had their clothing been scarlet, 
 I should have passed them in the Phoenix 
 Park with as little notice as a regiment of 
 my own countrymen. There is one point, 
 
INTRODUCTION. 13 
 
 in which the features of resemblance among 
 nations are uniform over all Europe ; and, 
 however manners and customs may other- 
 wise differ, I suspect a barrackyard is the 
 very same thing, presents the same ob- 
 jects, and its drill is conducted upon the 
 like system at Moscow and Dublin. I 
 drove to the citadel, and asked the seijeant 
 of the guard leave to go upon the ramparts. 
 Every thing had an air of abandonment and 
 neglect ; the barracks looked in ruins, with 
 few shutters or windows ; the grass in the 
 square ragged, and guns lying about dis- 
 mounted. The orderly, who accompanied 
 me, was a Swiss, had served fourteen years, 
 and was just going to receive his discharge. 
 There was a sincere joy in the man's lan- 
 guage, confirming the existence of that sen- 
 timent which is said to be the feeling of all 
 the natives of that romantic land, whom 
 fate holds in absence from her attaching 
 scenery. 
 
 The docks are magnificent works, the 
 larger basin capable of containing forty sail 
 of the line. The idle ships that lay there, 
 waiting for cargo or repairs, had peaceful 
 
14 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 names, and came from busy places. The 
 Hope and the Providence, the Venture and 
 the Endeavour, from Boston and New- 
 York, from Hull and Sunderland, fill places 
 designed by Napoleon for such a navy of 
 thunderers as he was never to be possessed 
 of The w^ork, however, is worthy of a 
 name and reign that shook the world. 
 
 The interior of the cathedral fulfils all 
 the promise of its outward aspect. It is a 
 consecrated grove of stately columns and 
 branching arches. It has space and light- 
 ness, and its gloom is of the softest ; it 
 may truly be called a " solemn temple." 
 The clear voice of the young choristers 
 wandered tremulously along the vaulted 
 roof, and fell upon the ear in weak but 
 mellow warblings. I enjoyed the anthem 
 leaning against a huge pilaster, whence I 
 could gaze undisturbed on that master- 
 piece of Rubens, the Descent from the 
 Cross. This, and the other two famous 
 pictures in this church, have been often de- 
 scribed ; they detain you long, and are 
 quitted with a reluctant step, and a back- 
 ward regard. There are innumerable figures 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 in this cathedral, sculptured in wood, the 
 first of their kind that I had ever seen. 
 They have no quaintness, but are exe- 
 cuted with as much care as if the artist 
 had wrought in marble, and for elegance 
 of proportion and propriety of expression 
 are remarkable. The countenances of 
 some, indeed, are of a very soft and pleas- 
 ing beauty. 
 
 The church of St. Jacques is rich in ob- 
 jects of interest, but that which more par- 
 ticularly attracts the stranger is the chapel, 
 dedicated to the memory of Rubens : his 
 ashes rest below the altar, the tombs of his 
 family around. The chapel is adorned 
 with precious marble, the altar is of the 
 like material. Above it is placed a picture 
 by this master, which I consider a most 
 enchanting production. It represents the 
 Infant Jesus on the knees of his mother ; 
 St. Jerome, St. George, two females, and 
 an aged bishop, make up the groupe. The 
 Infant is of uncommon loveliness ; there is 
 a radiant glory in its smile, and the con- 
 trast of its little tender form, with the brown 
 and wiry figure of St. Jerome, is most 
 
16 TNTRODUCTION. 
 
 happy. The manly St. George and the 
 two handsome females, said to be portraits 
 of Rubens and two of his wives, are finely 
 placed. The bending bishop, with his 
 grey beard, offering the kiss of adoration 
 to the little child, and the expression of 
 the virgin mother, complete the subject ; 
 and the effect of it, as a whole, is per- 
 fect. 
 
 The Museum has some very fine pictures 
 by Rubens and Vandyke. The Commu- 
 nion of St. Francis by the former, and 
 Christ on the Cross, with St. Catherine 
 and St. Dominic mourning, are fine paint- 
 ings : the latter has a depth of expression 
 which saddens every beholder. I never 
 look upon such a picture that I do not feel 
 the value and high dignity of the painter's 
 art. If the deep notes of the solemn 
 organ, — if the melancholy music of Mil- 
 ton are suitable to awaken and inflame 
 that better spirit within us, which is the 
 most precious gift of Heaven, assuredly 
 the like noble purpose is attained by 
 creations on the canvas, which place before 
 our very eyes those once acted and awful 
 
INTRODUCTION. 17 
 
 scenes, to which our contemplation can 
 never be directed without benefit. 
 
 There is a fine cabinet of paintings at 
 Mr. Von Lancivner's. Among many nobler 
 pieces are two fine Wouvermans ; the one a 
 Pillaging, the other a Fishing Scene, — both 
 wonderful works, — the former the most 
 interesting : it is like reading a chapter 
 of minute and finished description from 
 one of the Waverley novels to stand before 
 either. 
 
 Antwerp is a place that I should prefer 
 as a residence far before Brussels. I like 
 its long and lonely streets, and the solitary 
 figures that cross them, wrapped in the 
 black mantillas of Spain. The very sounds 
 and the very smells are Spanish, — small 
 chimes from every tower, and the smell of 
 incense issuing from the door of every 
 church and chapel. I mean not to rejoice 
 in a picture of decay, or to express plea- 
 sure at the thought that a population, once 
 200,000, has now dwindled to 50,000 ; that 
 of 9000 houses the half should be un- 
 tenanted ; and that, of its 212 streets, so 
 many should never echo to the passing 
 c 
 
18 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Step ; but that as things are so, the lover 
 of solitude, and the dweller with silence 
 might find there lessons of improvement, 
 and causes of contentment. 
 
 Brussels is white and bright: the allee 
 verte, by which you approach it, is broad, 
 green, and pleasant. The palace of Laken 
 stands well. The park and the place royale 
 have a character of great magnificence. 
 But were it not for that fine old Gothic 
 edifice the town hall with its fret work, and 
 windows, and tall tower ; and also for the 
 old church of St. Gudule, I should not 
 have felt any great pleasure in the scene. 
 The traveller, however, will find in this 
 city a gallery of paintings rich in quaint 
 old pictures, and full of amusement. 
 
 To the Englishman, Brussels has one as- 
 sociation of undying interest. It was in 
 her chambers our countrymen girded them 
 for the battle, in her squares and streets 
 they mustered, and out of her gates they 
 inarched to that last mighty contest, which 
 won peace for the world. I drove to the 
 memorable field. The road has that grave 
 aspect and those shades that belong to the 
 
INTRODUCTION. 19 
 
 forest scene. The axe of the wood-cutter 
 was the only sound which broke the still- 
 ness, save once where I met a groupe of 
 fine stout ruddy boys playing as they walked 
 along. None of them seemed above ten 
 years of age, most probably none of them 
 born even, when the battle of Waterloo 
 was fought. The man by my side did only 
 recollect that English soldiers were in 
 Brussels when he was a little boy, that they 
 had bands of music, and that their dress 
 was red. The Waterloo laurels still are, 
 and ever will be green, but most of the 
 locks on which they have been wreathed 
 have long, ere this, turned grey. 
 
 Waterloo is no longer a theme to dwell 
 on, — the praise of its heroes has been 
 hymned by many, and the loftiest harps, 
 and the action and the scene live to the 
 eye of Him, who has read " Paul's Letters 
 to his Kinsfolk." I passed over the field 
 with these aids in my head, with the me- 
 mory of other battle scenes present to my 
 fancy, and with Le Coster for my guide, — 
 the veritable Le Coster (for there are many 
 counterfeits). He is an erect robust man of 
 c 2 
 
20 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 a dark complexion, a little pitted with the 
 small pox, and with black intelligent eyes. 
 If he was fifty-three years of age in 1815, 
 he appears little older at this hour. 
 
 The farm-yard of La Haye Sainte looked 
 like any other ; poultry were clucking and 
 pecking up their food, and a young foal 
 neighing for its dam. A ploughboy, who 
 could have little remembrance of 1815, 
 opened to let us out, that very same gate, 
 at which on the day of the battle the 
 French forced their entrance, and bay- 
 onetted all the gallant Hanoverians whom 
 they found within. Shot holes in the gate 
 itself, and on the walls near bear record of 
 the struggle. 
 
 Hougoumont is still a ruin, and many of 
 the trees that were in front of it have been 
 cut down. The aspect of the spot, there- 
 fore, is somewhat altered. The terrace re- 
 mains, as do two damp and ruined alcoves, 
 which have never since that day been used 
 as such pleasant places are meant to be. 
 The orchard is still green and fruitful ; a 
 yard with some repaired outhouses is. oc- 
 cupied by the servants of the farm ; and a 
 
INTRODUCTION. 21 
 
 poor woman, with two children having 
 smihng eyes and red cheeks, came out to 
 receive the customary gift. I could well 
 image to myself the hot assault, and ob- 
 stinate defence of this post ; and I thought 
 upon the scene it must have presented that 
 evening. The thirsty wounded, and those 
 mournful roll-calls, where the Serjeants 
 pause at many names in succession, and the 
 manly and prompt "Here" in familiar 
 tones is listened for and waited for in 
 vain, — to be heard never again. 
 
 I went regularly and leisurely over the 
 field. It was much to stand alone with 
 Le Coster on the very spots, on which Na- 
 poleon had trodden during this mighty 
 combat. The point to which he last ad- 
 vanced is that of the deepest interest : it 
 was as far as general could go. Many 
 think that he should have fallen at the head 
 of his old guard, but the moral of his his- 
 tory is in far better keeping as it now 
 stands. It appears to me that they who 
 pass judgment against the generalship of 
 Napoleon throughout the movements di- 
 rected by him, from the twelfth to the 
 c 3 
 
22 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 eighteenth, deal hardly with his fame. It 
 was surely no small exhibition of talent to 
 compel the Prussian and British command- 
 ers to fight him on two different days, 
 and in two separate fields of battle. The 
 victory of Waterloo was gained by the iron 
 bravery of our troops, and by the firm high- 
 minded moral courage of the Duke of 
 Wellington. Never was that higher order 
 of courage more largely wanted, or more 
 brilliantly displayed. 
 
 As to the confusion in which the French 
 fled in the evening, Bonaparte in the last 
 advance set his all upon the cast. Reserves, 
 and supports and dispositions for retreat 
 belonged not to such a thought, or such a 
 position of affairs. If British officers of 
 judgment, experience, and intrepidity, 
 could (as some of them did) feel a doubt 
 about the issue of a contest, which even, 
 if fatal, would have left England laurels 
 yet brighter than those of Fontenoy, we 
 may yet, perhaps, thank the god of battles 
 that the reckless resolution of Napoleon, 
 at the close of that day, had not been made 
 at the beginning. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 2W 
 
 " The lot is cast into the lap, the whole 
 disposing thereof is of the Lord." King- 
 doms and cottages, princes and peasants 
 alike the objects. The man beside me, 
 who had been dragged in reluctant alarm 
 before the emperor, and compelled, with a 
 beating heart and a bowing head, to ac- 
 company him throughout the battle, by 
 this very circumstance has become pos- 
 sessed of more money and land than he 
 ever dared to hope for ; has a thriving fa- 
 mily, and the grateful joy of his heart 
 keeps him hale, cheerful, and strong. The 
 defeated king has closed a life of bitter 
 exile in the grave. 
 
 It was late, and chill, and dusk when I 
 drove back to Brussels : remembered poetry 
 is the solace of such hours. 
 
 From Brussels I went to Namur, a place 
 of much interest ; thence by a beautiful 
 route to Givet and Charlemont. On the 
 road I saw a peasant's fete: they were 
 dancing stoutly on the sward, and their 
 orchestra sate in a waggon — a picture of 
 Tenier*s realized. 
 
 c 4 
 
24 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 I visited Mezieres, Sedan, Verdun, Metz, 
 Thionville, Luxemburgh. Metz is a fine 
 city : many historical recollections are 
 awakened in it, as also at Thionville. At 
 the inn here I found a young German 
 troubadour. He sung ballads for me, ac- 
 companying himself on the guitar. It 
 came to my thought as he sung, standing 
 humble in the corner of the saloon, how 
 differently at the old court of Charlemagne, 
 a man with such a voice and touch had 
 been received (my fellow traveller making 
 light of him). For myself, the humblest 
 itinerant musician can delight me. The 
 road to Luxemburgh has woods, plateaux, 
 positions bringing wars and military names 
 to your mind. Among the latter, that of 
 the great Duke of Alva returning de- 
 feated from Metz. Luxemburgh is a strong 
 fortress, and a most romantic spot. There 
 is a garden suburb in the gorge, or rather 
 at the head of the ravine, above which 
 Luxemburgh is built, the situation of which 
 is peculiar and beautiful. The whole ex^ 
 cursion from Brussels was delightful. Part 
 
INTRODUCTION. 25 
 
 of the way I crossed legs in a diligence 
 with the blood-red trowsers of a young 
 French officer of the Chasseurs-a-cheval, 
 and found French military talk at all the 
 tables d'hote. From this point I entered 
 Germany. 
 
NOTES AND REFLECTIONS 
 
 IN A 
 
 RAMBLE TO VIENNA, 
 
 IN 1825. 
 
 The common sounds in the cities of Ger- 
 many are the clangour of miUtary bands, 
 the ringing of iron boot-heels, and the 
 measured tread of stately soldiers. These, 
 at certain hours of the evening, are varied 
 by the full deep chorus of the slow-sung 
 hymn, or, among the assembled youth of 
 both sexes, by the soft and pleasing move- 
 ments of the waltz. The sights every where 
 correspond with the character of these 
 sounds, and both are found on the very 
 threshold of the land. 
 
 The approach to Treves from Luxem- 
 burgh is singularly beautiful j the Moselle 
 
28 GERMANY. 
 
 bears you company ; the vale through which 
 it flows is flat and fertile, while on either side 
 rise hills, lofty enough to be picturesque, 
 and lovely, inasmuch as they are fruitful, 
 being for the most part laid out in vine- 
 yards. 
 
 The city lies in the narrowest part of 
 the valley, and shows fair. The suburbs 
 are prettily scattered, east and west of it, 
 and are adorned with several large and 
 fine-looking churches. 
 
 " Ante Roma fuit, stetit Teveris," says 
 a proud inscription in the great square ; 
 a very fine old ruin, standing at a short yet 
 imposing distance from the spot, compels 
 the reverence of the traveller, and confirms 
 the pride of the citizen. They tell you 
 that it was used as a Hall of Assembly by 
 the ancient Gauls, and, in after times, by 
 their Roman conquerors, as a Capitol. 
 Whatever doubts disturb or destroy such 
 illusion afterwards, for the moment the 
 vain tradition gives pleasure, and assists the 
 memory in her backward flight. But Treves 
 has a great charm for the unaccustomed 
 eye ; — the whole place is an antique ; — 
 
GERMANY. 29 
 
 the houses are of quaint irregular forms, 
 all sizes, all shapes, and of no order ; here, 
 a little old bay-windowed yellow house, 
 leaning fairly on one side ; there, a tall 
 bright-red mansion, with carved window- 
 frames, and high masking fronts of every 
 variety. Peasant women, too, pass across 
 the square, with stiff white caps, flat as the 
 forage-caps of Austrian dragoons, which, 
 seen at a distance in the fields, they greatly 
 resemble, but, near, you recognize them at 
 once as old acquaintances, — as a costume 
 familiar to the eye in engravings from Al- 
 bert Durer, and the old masters of his day. 
 The nearest shop-window exhibits no books 
 for sale, but volumes of forbidding black 
 letter, in which the unalterable German 
 will go on reading his rich but rugged 
 tongue for ever, in utter contempt of the 
 fair Roman character, which all the other 
 nations of Europe have, by common con- 
 sent, adopted. 
 
 I like the German, however, the better 
 for tliis, and the very sight of the type in 
 which old Chaucer was imprinted, begets a 
 kind feeling in the bosom of the Enolish 
 
30 GERMANY. 
 
 traveller towards the country and the people 
 he is about to visit. It is not a little re- 
 markable to observe, how much among 
 these people the French had found it im- 
 possible to change. Although for nearly 
 twenty years Treves had been the chef lieu 
 of a department under the republic, and 
 the empire of France, yet was there no 
 sound in the streets but German, and in 
 several of the shops which I entered, they 
 could not reply to a question in the French 
 lanoruage. 
 
 The principal hotel, the Maison rouge, 
 was full, and I could only find place in the 
 Hotel de Venise. Here I got an excellent 
 apartment, and was civilly treated. How- 
 ever, not one servant in the house spoke 
 French, so that here my amusing but easily- 
 mastered difficulties began. I arrived time 
 enough to take an evening^ saunter round 
 the city. In the cabarets I heard good har- 
 monious singing, as I passed them by, and 
 I met soldiers at every step. The fields 
 and gardens were balmy and still ; but, 
 here again, soldiers. I met some squadrons 
 of cavalry returning from their watering ; 
 
GERMANY. .31 
 
 and afterwards, in a more retired lane, 
 three young officers, riding in that quiet 
 way the Germans love. As I passed home- 
 wards, I made for a stately building that 
 looked like a palace ; it was formerly the 
 Prince Bishop's, now the barrack of Prus- 
 sian lancers. 
 
 The day following was a grand holiday, 
 being the king of Prussia's birth-day. Few 
 of his Majesty's subjects enjoyed it more 
 than I did. It is a fine old cathedral, the 
 service was well performed, and the instru- 
 mental music excellent. I felt a strange, 
 stirring delight as, in parts, the harsh brattle 
 of the drum, and the stern notes of the brazen 
 trumpets, mingled with the solemn song of 
 praise. It was impossible to rein the fancy, 
 and she was busy in other scenes, — scenes 
 naturally suggesting themselves to a sol- 
 dier's mind, and forming a very painful 
 and exciting contrast to that before me, 
 where quiet citizens, and gay-dressed wo- 
 men, and happy school-boys, were crowded 
 opposite the choir, all eye and ear. There 
 was a grand parade of the troops, after 
 high mass, for divine service, according to 
 
32 GERMANY. 
 
 the Protestant form of worship. There 
 were three battahons of infantry, and a re- 
 giment of lancers. These were formed in a 
 very compact, deep square, the lancers 
 mounted, exactly filling the outer faces. 
 Nothing could possibly be conducted with 
 greater decency or propriety than this ser- 
 vice : there was no haste, no irreverence, 
 throughout the whole ; a great part of the 
 soldiers used their prayer-books, and num- 
 bers knelt. At certain parts all the troops, 
 both horse and foot, sate, stood, or kneeled, 
 bareheaded. The music was very solemn. 
 A hymn sung by a vocal band produced 
 a moving and sweet effect. At the close 
 a sermon of some length was delivered 
 by the chaplain, with considerable earnest- 
 ness of manner. He wore on his head 
 that square old cap which the reader may 
 have often seen in the engraved portraits 
 of our martyrs : it was altogether a fine 
 picture. The very instant the worthy man 
 concluded his discourse, at a given signal, 
 the artillery fired their thundering salutes ; 
 the troops deployed, formed in open co- 
 lumn, and marched past. I placed myself 
 
GERMANY. 33 
 
 directly in rear of the General, and close to 
 him. The men were uncommonly clean, 
 well set-up, young, and handsome ; the 
 bands were loud-breathing and martial ; but 
 the very tread of the platoons was music ; 
 and they turned their full, proud eyes on the 
 General, after a noble manner, that filled 
 mine with thick and dimmino- tears. I 
 shook twenty years from my shoulders as I 
 thought upon my first review, and the then 
 swelling of my fresh and hopeful heart. 
 
 The General was a little man, grave, and 
 grey-headed, with clear, intelligent eyes, 
 and sate quite erect on his charger, a ches- 
 nut horse, of the exact cut of that which 
 old Fritz, of glorious memory, is always 
 represented as mounted on, — a Prussian 
 cornet, perhaps, of the day, when the black 
 eagle was the terror of battle-fields. Those 
 times have passed away, — all must wonder 
 how, as they look upon the firm march, the 
 free carriage, and the brave bearing of the 
 soldiery of Prussia. It is, however, here 
 necessary to observe, that the obligation 
 now imposed on every subject of that kino-- 
 dom, to serve in the ranks of her army for a 
 
 D 
 
34 GERMANY. 
 
 given period of three years, or never less 
 than one, is felt and complained of as a 
 heavy grievance, — I think with reason. 
 Sure I am that a large number of young 
 persons are returned into the bosom of civil 
 society very ill fitted to pursue peaceful and 
 laborious occupations in humble content- 
 ment ; while others agpin are compelled, 
 for a season (and that the most important 
 of their existence), to a mode of life, a dis- 
 cipline, and a treatment, which they find 
 irksome, revolting, and abhorrent. I par- 
 ticularly allude to the poorer gentry, and 
 persons in the easy middle class, — or rather, 
 perhaps, I should say, to the parents of the 
 youths taken from these classes, who have 
 not the wish, perhaps, certainly have not 
 the hope, of seeing their sons commis- 
 sioned as officers, and are alike pained and 
 alarmed for their morals, and their happi- 
 ness, when taken from under their own eye, 
 and placed among the chance companions, 
 which regiments thus composed must fur- 
 nish. This universal soldiership is as- 
 suredly a curse ; the enlisting of men for a 
 term of many years forms better soldiers^ 
 
GERMANY. 35 
 
 and spoils fewer citizens. 1 mean not by 
 this to speak of regular soldiers as more im- 
 moral than other classes of society ; for I do 
 not think this often-hazarded assertion to be 
 true. In all good corps soldiers are looked 
 after by their officers like children, and they 
 very soon become well conducted, if not 
 from the highest motives, yet from habit, 
 and for peace-sake : but the case is, of ne- 
 cessity, widely different, where men, all 
 young, are gathered together for a short 
 period of service, oftentimes with more 
 money at their command than a private 
 soldier ought ever to be possessed of, and 
 with smart uniforms, personal advantages, 
 and a handsome carriage, become the ob- 
 jects for low gamblers and designing fe- 
 males to fasten on and destroy. Doubtless 
 many such, their " three years of heroship 
 expired," return to their homes lost and 
 polluted men, and spread wide the taint of 
 immorality. 
 
 I walked in the evening up a hill to the 
 
 south of the city, turning, as saunterers do, 
 
 at every fifty paces, to look down upon the 
 
 fair valley beneath. I wonder not that, at 
 
 D 2 
 
36 GERMANY. 
 
 a very early period, the clarissimi Treviri 
 stayed their wandering camp, and fixed it 
 here ; for nothing can be more pleasant 
 to the eye than this fertile and well-wa- 
 tered plain. As I was gazing on this pro- 
 spect, I heard a little murmuring of young 
 voices, in a hollow way, near the field in 
 which I stood, and, going to the bank, I 
 saw a family, consisting of three little girls 
 and their mother, walking up the steep 
 lane, slowly and singly, the youngest first, 
 their hands joined together, and pointing 
 upwards, and their rosaries hanging down 
 from them. The children had fair hair, 
 that fell in braids, and voices clear and in- 
 nocent. The mother was mantled and 
 pale, and moved her lips in deeper and 
 sadder tones. I followed at an undisturb- 
 ing distance, and marked them gain a rude 
 shrine of the virgin. They stood before it 
 long, repeating prayers, and they bowed 
 down, and kneeled in the dust. It was the 
 sun-set hour ; when they passed away, I 
 went to the spot. Nothing could be ruder 
 than the image of our lady. In a guide- 
 book on Treves, which I had read that very 
 V6 
 
GERMANY. 37 
 
 morning, were these lines quoted from 
 Lucan, as descriptive of the rehgion of 
 their earliest ancestors : — 
 
 " Simulacraque moesta Deorum 
 Arte carent, caesisque extant informia truncis." 
 
 Perhaps then, as now, the widowed heart 
 found in its pilgrim walk to a rude and 
 shapeless image like this, only called by 
 another name, some comfort, and a peace 
 permitted by, or rather given from, heaven. 
 The sighing service of sorrow is always, I 
 believe, heard, and speeded by angels and 
 ministers of grace. 
 
 I passed down through vineyards to the 
 ruins of an ancient Roman theatre, which 
 have been well cleared out, and may be 
 very distinctly traced. Thence, in the greyer 
 dusk, I walked homewards. My steps were 
 arrested, for some minutes, near a summer- 
 house, by the sound of soft waltz music. As 
 I entered the dark streets the windows were 
 shaking to the doubling drums and piercing 
 trumpets of the garrison. They ceased, 
 and in a short moment the city was hushed 
 D 3 
 
38 GERMANY. 
 
 and silent. Such days the traveller does 
 not readily forget. I was dragged in one, 
 however, and glad to be so, from Treves to 
 Coblentz. The better way, if the season 
 admits of it, is to take a boat, and drop 
 down the river Moselle, an excursion which 
 I am told is very delightful and rewarding. 
 The descent into the valley of the Rhine, 
 as you approach Coblentz, presents a most 
 noble scene. I had reason to rejoice that I 
 was disappointed of finding quarters at the 
 great hotel in the square, for the window 
 of my chamber at " Les trois Suisses' 
 looked out upon the glorious Rhine, and 
 up to the castled rock of Ehrenbreitstein. 
 I was long before I could leave the case- 
 ment to satisfy my appetite at table in the 
 salon, and I gladly returned to it. The 
 moon sailed high and bright among clouds 
 that, at times, for a minute, shadowed her, 
 and gave an indescribable sublimity to the 
 stern and stately fortress, and to the flowing 
 river, as it rolled darkling beneath the 
 deeper and blacker shade of the scarped 
 rock. I slept to open my eyes on the 
 same glorious objects, seen clear in the 
 
GERMANY. 39 
 
 sober colours of a dawning summer's day. 
 I rose immediately, and walked up to 
 the height, called William stadt, from the 
 works erected there. The prospect from 
 it is wide and various, and full of such 
 glory as meeting rivers and broad vales of 
 cultivation, enlivened by towns and vil- 
 lages, must ever display. Moreover, here 
 there are blue mountains in the distance, 
 and nearer, a vista of the Rhine descending 
 between lofty hills, picturesquely broken in 
 their forms, and crowned with grey and 
 shattered towers, and chapels still white 
 and in honour. The leisure walking about 
 Coblentz I found very delightful, from the 
 novelty of the scene, and the new impres- 
 sions of the people, which my eye gathered 
 for me as I sauntered through the streets. 
 I like a market-place every where, especi- 
 ally in a foreign land. I like to see peasant 
 women in the costume, which their great- 
 great grandmothers have worn before them. 
 The females of the lower orders here have 
 a coarse, hardy handsomeness ; their fair 
 complexions have been sunburned in har- 
 vest-fields, and their flaxen hair yellowed 
 D 4 
 
40 GERMANY. 
 
 in summer labours ; they force it back from 
 their cheeks and temples, and confine it 
 behind beneath a small coif, or caplet of a 
 gilt tissue, or some flowered pattern; and 
 their countenances, naturally open, assume 
 an expression of honesty very prepossessing. 
 There is a fearlessness of regard altoaether 
 distinct from immodesty, and there is a 
 something very guileless in their manner 
 of meeting and talking with each other. I 
 stood long in one of the streets before a shop- 
 window filled with pipe-heads : the devices 
 painted on these have an infinite variety, 
 and are generally executed and finished 
 with great neatness and taste. They fur- 
 nish you with a very pleasing feature in 
 the German character ; the city of his 
 birth, the leader after his heart, the patron 
 saint, or the revered reformer, the poet, 
 the painter, the hill, the stream, the flower, 
 that best he loves, is borne by the German, 
 figured on the pipe, from which he is never 
 separated, wander where he may, as a trea- 
 sured possession, — a talisman of happy 
 power. 
 
GERMANY. 41 
 
 I attended a public concert in the even- 
 ing. The performers were few, but excel- 
 lent — the ensemble perfect. A female from 
 the Opera at Breslau sung two Italian airs 
 correctly, and well, but not at all to charm. 
 There was enough in the room, however, 
 to charm any observer. Some of the young 
 German girls of eighteen appeared to me 
 simple in both manner and dress as our 
 children ; no effort at display, — hair with- 
 out other adornment than the falling braids, 
 and round the waist the sash, the broad 
 ribbon sash. Whither has it fled, ye gentles 
 of England ? whither has this liphtest and 
 most graceful of zones fled ? and by what 
 has it been replaced ? The ladies were all 
 seated ; several of the gentlemen stood. 
 Against the wall leaned a groupe of Ger- 
 man youths, and boys ; many of them from 
 sixteen to eighteen years of age, yet they 
 wore the open neck, — the white, and fall- 
 ino; shirt-collar: their shininor hair huno- 
 down long and waving, and was just parted 
 on the forehead ; their fine complexions, 
 and expressive countenances, varied to each 
 movement, and their eyes were affection- 
 
42 GERMANY. 
 
 ately fixed on the performers with a jealous 
 intentness, lest they should lose a single 
 note of the music. The silence of a German 
 audience in a concert is perfect; the re- 
 proof of even the slightest rustle may be 
 read on every forehead throughout the as- 
 sembly. In the interval between the acts 
 the conversation is cheerful and buzzing. 
 
 At the close I returned to my table 
 dliote, where I had occasion to observe 
 that exact contrast of character, which 
 all societies present, but none more fre- 
 quently, and in greater strength, than those 
 composed of mihtary men. At the upper 
 part of the table sate two Prussian officers, 
 engaged in conversation, whose minds and 
 hearts looked out from their eyes after the 
 noblest manner ; at the bottom sate two 
 younger officers well dressed, and not ill 
 looking, conversing with loudness, and 
 having essentially vulgar minds. This, 
 without understanding three words spoken 
 by either party, I would have staked my 
 bottle of Laubenheim, and pleasant Seltzer 
 water upon. One word to such travellers, 
 as, bringing with them, from English uni- 
 12 
 
GERMANY. 43 
 
 versities, an instilled, and, perhaps, a useful 
 prejudice against the armies, and officers of 
 Germany, incline to despise all that is ut- 
 tered by lips hidden under mustachios, or 
 that is accompanied in its going forth by a 
 cloud of smoke from the genuine meerschaum 
 pipe. Be sure, quite sure of your strength 
 before you let out on any subject connected 
 with the classics, the belles lettres, the arts 
 or sciences, at a table filled with Prussian 
 officers. 
 
 In the morning I visited the church of 
 St. Castor, and found it decorated for a 
 festival, and filled with a holiday-clad 
 coni^regation. Between the columns, ai.d 
 around them, and on the walls, hung rich, 
 thick festoons of oak leaves smelling fresh 
 
 o 
 
 from the forest ; orange trees and hand- 
 some shrubs had been brought from some 
 conservatory, and prettily disposed about 
 the church. The altars were dressed in 
 fresh gathered flowers, and all the pictures 
 had their frames richly concealed in like 
 manner. The service was reverently per- 
 formed, and the Te Deum well sung ; but 
 when, in parts, the whole congregation 
 
44 GERMANY. 
 
 joined in the psalmody, and tlie assembled 
 voices rose in one full harmonious note of 
 praise, I felt a deep and hallowed hap- 
 piness. The devotional singing of the 
 Germans is of the very highest order ; they 
 observe a slow, and measured time, and 
 preserve a fine accord. Moreover, they are 
 sincere and solemn ; the tones seem to 
 come up from the depth of their hearts : the 
 eyes are not turned fanatically upwards, 
 or wandering coldly about; they have a 
 fixed, serious, abstracted gaze, prayerful 
 and true. 
 
 In the course of my rambles about the 
 city I met a groupe of boys returning from 
 school. Young as they were, their gait, 
 and carriage, was already erect, and martial, 
 even to the coarse stamp of their military 
 boots ; and, instead of satchels for their 
 well-thumbed Caesars, all their books were 
 packed in little knapsacks fitted square 
 upon their young shoulders. 
 
 I walked out to the tomb of General 
 Marceau alone : his early laurels, his early 
 death, and the memorable circumstances of 
 his honoured funeral, invest it with a mild 
 
GERMANY. 
 
 45 
 
 o-lory, wliich shines but rarely on the grave 
 of a warrior. His remains He immediately 
 under a fort, where, in all future con- 
 tinental wars, there will be red artillery 
 flashing upon the tomb that guards them. 
 
 A lame commissionaire, such an one as 
 is to be found at the gateway of every hotel 
 in every large town upon the Rhine, and 
 who is generally one of those " broken 
 tools that tyrants cast away," procured for 
 me the regular permission to visit Ehren- 
 breitstein, and accompanied me. As we 
 walked slowly up the hill I gathered his 
 brief tale. A native of the city, he had 
 seen a regiment of French hussars pass 
 through, and had followed their fortunes. 
 He had served in Spain and Russia, as all 
 these poor fellows have, or say they have. 
 But here, from his relation of a particular 
 circumstance, I was satisfied that I was 
 walking by the side of a man who had 
 been drenched by the very same midnight 
 rain, and, after a morning of rude greetings 
 in the field, had been dried by the same 
 welcomed sunbeams as myself some four- 
 teen years ago. 
 
46 GERMANY. 
 
 The works of the fortress have again 
 arisen in considerable strength, but much 
 remains to be done. Accordino; to the rate 
 at which they now labour, and the number 
 of men they employ, it would lake seven or 
 eight years to complete them : this the old 
 Prussian bombardier who showed them 
 observed, adding, with gravity, that there 
 was no hurry, as there would be plenty of 
 time. I hope, from the bottom of my 
 heart, that he may be right ; but to tliink 
 of a grej^-lieaded old soldier, who can re- 
 member, within the narrow space of ten 
 short years, two sucli days as those of Jena 
 and the triumphal entry into Paris, thus 
 speaking, — as if havoc were never to be 
 cried again, and the dogs of war chained 
 up for ever. From the walls I looked 
 out upon the same magnificent scene I 
 have already spoken of, as discovered 
 from Willi am stadt, and traced the exten- 
 sive works, which, on every side, protect 
 Coblentz, and the calm meeting of the 
 Moselle and the Rhine. There is a hand- 
 some church in this lofty fort bomb-proof. 
 There is always a great stillness about a 
 
GERMANY. 47 
 
 church ; even if it be an erection of yester- 
 day, it breathes composure on the visitor ; 
 but to be reminded by the word bomb-proof, 
 that it is designed for that hurried worship, 
 which, amid the alarms and tumults of a 
 siege, is the only service that can be joined 
 in by a belted soldiery, awoke in me the 
 thought that there was nothing more dif- 
 ficult for regularly educated clergymen than 
 to preach the Gospel to soldiers ; and that, 
 in the course of a long period of military 
 service, I could scarce summon to my re- 
 collection one single discourse, delivered 
 by a chaplain, which met the minds, habits, 
 feelings, and spiritual wahts of private sol- 
 diers. I shall be told Christianity is the 
 same everywhere, and at all times, and 
 among all classes of society. True ; but 
 to preach it in the carpeted drawing room 
 is one thing, to preach it in the open camp 
 is another ; to keep Sabbath where bells do 
 knoll for church is one thing, to keep it in 
 your shut heart amid the stir of a line of 
 march is another ; at least I think so, and 
 I have often wished to see a helping vo- 
 lume for the tent and the guard-room : but 
 
48 GERMANY. 
 
 yet I so reverence the ark, that I almost 
 fear to see a soldier's hand on it. 
 
 I took a caliche to myself from Coblentz 
 to Maynz, that I might linger on the way. 
 Leaving Coblentz after dinner, I passed to 
 St. Goar, where I slept : the route is never 
 to be forgotten ; much is felt, but little can 
 be said upon it. It is a blending of all 
 beauties ; cliff and ruin, wood and crag, 
 vines and happy-looking dwellings, — dwel- 
 lings, old in their fashion, and solid in 
 their aspect ; thresholds of worn stone that 
 have been stepped over by many gener- 
 ations ; and vine-clad porches that have 
 shaded many a wayworn traveller as he 
 partook the free hospitality of kind owners 
 smiling in peace and abundance. 
 
 I strongly recommend an evening at the 
 post-house of St. Goar to all travellers, for, if 
 it is still what T found it, they will meet 
 with cleanliness, tranquillity, and civil treat- 
 ment : moreover, the site is most beautiful. 
 
 While they were preparing my supper 
 I took a walk. Walks at the hour of dusk 
 are ever soothing and pleasant, but espe- 
 cially so on the bank of a fine river : the 
 
GERMANY. 49 
 
 flow is heard more solemn in the stillness, 
 and the glassy light of broad and gliding 
 waters is seen with a more thoughtful 
 feeling. At a bend of the stream I saw 
 some figures approaching in the distance, 
 and presently they broke out into singing, — 
 it was a hymn. They passed me linked hand 
 in hand, and my heart's blessing went after 
 them as their forms disappeared, and their 
 voices died away. 
 
 The ruin of Rheinfels, above St. Goar, 
 is well deserving a visit: it has been in 
 succession convent, castle, and fort. In 
 this last character it was surrendered or be- 
 trayed to the French, on the first summons, 
 during the war of the revolution ; by them 
 it was blown up. A weedy garden, the 
 painted walls of a music room, and spacious 
 cellars, tell of mirth, music, and the wine- 
 cup ; while a few horrible dungeon tombs, 
 resembling the famed oubliettes, remind you 
 that there are more passions in the human 
 breast than the one of love, and other 
 sighs in this our world than those of lovers. 
 On your route towards Bingen you pass 
 under a rocky height, called the Lurley- 
 
50 ^ GERMANY. 
 
 berg, where there is an echo. Of this 
 echo your postilion is too proud to remain 
 silent ; he disturbs the sohtude with his 
 shout, and smiles back in your face, as he 
 is answered by obedient Pan. 
 
 The site of the castle of Schonberg, as 
 you pass forward, is very picturesque. The 
 town of Oberwesel stands prettily ; there is 
 a ruined church, and another beautifully 
 clothed with ivy, wliich demand a passing 
 visit. Here, too, is a small chapel, dedi- 
 cated to the memory of a youthful martyr 
 and canonized saint, named Werner, who 
 is said to have suffered a death at the hands 
 of the Jews, many centuries ago, under cir- 
 cumstances of the most ai^oravated cruelty 
 and horror. The legend is similar to that 
 related by the prioress in Chaucer's tales, 
 and to that other preserved in the old ballad 
 styled Hugh of Lincoln. 
 
 A wine-press and a cottage stand in the 
 same enclosure with the chapel, and the 
 good people keep the key, and open it for 
 strangers. It is dilapidated, but not alto- 
 gether in ruins. The windows are broken, 
 indeed, and the damp air is busy on the 
 
GERMANY. 51 
 
 walls ; but devotees still visit and kneel 
 before the altar, over which hangs a very 
 horrid picture of" this martyidom. It re- 
 presents the victim youth suspended with 
 his head downwards, and several Jews in 
 the act of lancing his body with knives, and 
 taking from it goblets of blood. Although 
 the mind rejects at once the interested in- 
 vention of the miracles, which, in all these 
 cases, are recorded as having followed on 
 such sacrifice, by rendering it impossible 
 for the perpetrators of the crime to bury 
 or conceal the mangled corpse of their 
 victim, which is, in every case, stated to 
 have spoken out after the extinction of life, 
 it is not easy to refuse belief to the simple 
 fact of a Christian child having been mur- 
 dered by Jews at one of these places, if not 
 at all. I cannot, however, credit the mon- 
 strous tale, that it was a deliberate practice 
 of that persecuted sect to sacrifice annually 
 a Christian child in solemn assembly. In 
 Asia, to this very day, the boys in the streets 
 will spit upon and jeer at the Jew. Now, 
 we may readily imagine that the laughing 
 taunts of children, and their practical in- 
 E 2 
 
52 GERMANY. 
 
 suits, would exasperate the spirit of hunted 
 and irritated men, even to madness ; and 
 this may account, I think, for children hav- 
 ing been the chance victims of a people, at 
 once vindictive and timid. In the ballad 
 of Hugh of Lincoln, the boys are repre- 
 sented playing at foot-ball, and the one 
 who afterwards suffers, as kicking it through 
 a Jew's window. This more strongly in- 
 clines me to an opinion, in which I wish to 
 be confirmed, rather than be compelled to 
 admit that such puttings to death were 
 solemn and sacrificial. In either view none 
 can deny to the subject a very deep and 
 affecting interest. The mother is thus 
 wonderfully depicted in Chaucer : — 
 
 " C§t0 poore tDtOotD atoaitctg al tSc ittgSt 
 Zhtv Ijtt little tgiltir, anti f)t camr nought : 
 jToc ttjgicb a0 sioone a0 it tt>a0 tJap-liggt, 
 Mlith face pale for t)retie anti hmp tgougSt, 
 g>ge SatJ) at 0ci)oie anti el^tDgere Ijim 0ougSt, 
 ^iil fitiallp 0i)e gan 00 farre a^pie 
 -Cfiat De la0t m\t toass in tSe Bletorie. 
 
 mit"^ motBer pitie in Ber breast enclo^eti 
 S>8e gotg a0 jsge toece Ijalfe out of ger mintie 
 '^0 etjecp place, toBeie 0Se Batg ^upposseti 
 Bp lifeeligootJ Ser cftilti for to fiuDe : 
 
GERMANY. 53 
 
 anti tijtt on C6n0te0 motger good anti feinde 
 S>fie trieU." — 
 
 Forgive me, reader, I could not choose 
 but quote these Knes ; forgive me for that 
 one, — 
 
 With face pale for drede and busy thought. 
 
 Remember, too, that these tales and these 
 verses are in black letter, true German 
 text. 
 
 The scenery onward continues rich, ro- 
 mantic, and varied ; the famous stone, near 
 Bacharach, called the Altar of Bacchus, 
 shone smooth, dry, and hot above the 
 bosom of the Rhine, giving promise of a 
 full and fruitful vintage. Of the vineyards 
 on this route, pictorially speaking, I must 
 observe, that they are generally more 
 honoured and bepraised, by travellers and 
 poets, than their appearance warrants. They 
 rise on rapid slopes, and, in many instances, 
 on narrow slips of land, which are forced 
 to be protected and built up by low- walled 
 embankments. In all of them the brown 
 surface of the earth bears so large a pro- 
 E 3 
 
S4 GERMANY. 
 
 portion to that clad in the verdure of the 
 plant, tliat the genera! effect, were it not 
 for the association of ideas, would be almost 
 painfid ; it would seem to the mere gaze as 
 if vegetation was struggling weakly and in 
 vain upon a barren and ungrateful soil. 
 The vine trelliced is every where beautiful, 
 or when trained in festoons, as in Lom- 
 bardy ; or when, on a wide flat vineyard, 
 the bushes show thick, and you cannot get 
 sufficiently above the ground to view its 
 nakedness. — But I feel shame ; it is a 
 pitiful return to the grapes of Hockheim, 
 and Laubenheim, and Kudesheim, which 
 so ffladden and strenothen the traveller's 
 heart, to criticise the aspect of the gardens 
 where they grow; it is like praising a real 
 good fellow, and then coldly regretting that 
 he is plain. 
 
 The strange-looking, many-windowed inn 
 at Bingen was empty ; so that I sate down 
 to my cover alone, but with plenty to amuse 
 the eye, for on the papered wall were de- 
 picted the French triumphs in Egypt, and 
 pyramids, palm-trees, obelisks, tents, Ma- 
 malukes and French hussars were blended 
 
GERMANY. 5S 
 
 around in gay and unintelligible confusion. 
 With these objects staring me in the face, 
 I could not resist the little vanity of saying 
 that I had been in Egypt, although I had 
 only a waiter to say it to. 
 
 *' Est ce un bon pays^ Monsieur ? est ce 
 quil ya du vin .?" The Arab always asks 
 the stranger if he has dates in his coun- 
 try? Thus it is men are bound by the 
 fitted gifts of Providence to their own al- 
 lotted path in creation. 
 
 In this place, opposite the inn, I recol- 
 lect seeing a young mother, and her first- 
 born child, of rare beauty ; and the playful 
 fondling and returned caresses gave me a 
 picture perfect in its kind. 
 
 There is a garden on a height here, with 
 a ruined castle in the midst of it. The 
 whole is prettily laid out in walks, and 
 flower-plots, with arbours and rustic seats, 
 in spots commanding the finest prospects. 
 
 There is an iEolian harp placed in the 
 ruined tower. When the garden was emptv, 
 and the shades of evening fell thick, and all 
 was gloom and stillness, I returned and 
 leaned long against tlie locked door, to 
 E 4 
 
56 GERMANY, 
 
 listen to that fitful, melancholy music. 
 Such things send you sad, yet happy to 
 your couch. 
 
 The route to Mayence crosses the Rhein- 
 gau : a blessed abundance smiled all round ; 
 wide corn-fields, grapes in the blush, and 
 fruit-trees, in long avenues, on the very 
 road. The wayfaring traveller gathers the 
 unmissed apple from the loaded branch, 
 and rests beneath its shade, and eats it; 
 and no one says nay to him. 
 
 The view of Mayence, on the road from 
 Nieder Ingelheim, is very fine ; at the gate 
 a bronzed old Austrian, in a white uniform, 
 demands your passport; and ten yards 
 farther you meet a youthful, fresh-com- 
 plexioned Prussian, who demands it again. 
 In short, you are now fairly in the hands 
 of the high Allied Powers, for they garri- 
 son this noble city and important post be- 
 tween them. You drive down a fine broad 
 street of princely old mansions, unoccupied, 
 or converted to some public use, such as an 
 office, a store, or a barrack. 
 
 It was the hour of dinner when I reached 
 the hotel, and a scene of great bustle and 
 
GERMANY. 57 
 
 discomfort it appeared; a long, crowded 
 table of busy feeders, and unheeded mu- 
 sicians carelessly playing their worst pieces. 
 The next day, however, when T was neither 
 hot nor dusty, I enjoyed the table dlwte 
 much. 
 
 Mayence is, to my eye, a very interesting 
 place ; a man might stand rooted for a 
 whole evening in the middle of its long 
 bridge, looking down that unequalled val- 
 ley of the Rhine ; and long might he lean 
 over the parapet of its promenade, just 
 above the confluence of the Maine and 
 the Rhine ; and long might he gaze down 
 upon the city, and mark that cathedral, so 
 deeply richly red, when, at the sunset hour, 
 it passes through a glorious course of chang- 
 ing tints, till, in the all-grey dusk, it stands 
 black and solemn above the mass of habit- 
 ations, just veiled by the rising vapours. 
 The evening I was on the promenade there 
 was music, martial music, but soft breath- 
 ing, as if to win the hearts of women, and 
 aid young soldiers, as silently they walk 
 with beauty, and sigh their first loves. 
 
 Germany has been, in our day, one vast 
 
58 GERMANY. 
 
 theatre of war, and scarce a city on tlie 
 Rhine, the Danube, or the Elbe, but has 
 witnessed 
 
 " Sudden partings, such as press 
 The life from out young hearts." 
 
 Knowing this, we look upon young German 
 lovers as rejoicing that the war-trumpet 
 cannot startle them in that sweet dream 
 which comes not twice in any life, and 
 is not fairly and unbrokenly slumbered 
 through by one in a million. I am old, 
 but I cannot and wish not to forget that I 
 have been young. Germany is a country 
 for bringing such recollections home to the 
 hearts of all men, especially of soldiers. 
 
 There is a public library here, a museum, 
 many Roman antiquities, and some pictures 
 of interest; but there is no fine building 
 to receive them, and they are crowded in 
 small miserable apartments, little heeded 
 by visitors. This gives great pain to the 
 professors and citizens, and is certainly not 
 to the credit of the Sovereign Duke, of 
 whose indifference to the general welfare 
 of the cityj as well as to these little ob- 
 
GERMANY. 59 
 
 jects of their pride, they largely complain. 
 In weighing, however, the discontent of the 
 inhabitants of Mayence, it is necessary to 
 remember that they were greatly favoured 
 by France, and greatly enriched by the 
 constant passage of her troops into Ger- 
 many. Here the French soldier generously 
 spent his last sous, and, crossing the bridge, 
 here he left his conscience to rejoin him 
 with his arrears, if he should ever chance 
 to return. 
 
 Among the lions of the city, the Gutten- 
 burgh tablet ranks high : at the time of my 
 visit it was in peculiar honour, in conse- 
 quence of a paper vvar between a professor 
 of Moguntia and Haarlem, on the disputed 
 title of the Former city to the glory of that 
 invention, which has so largely contributed 
 to the improvement and the happiness of 
 man. 
 
 In the citadel, a fine broken tower, of the 
 massive Roman build, recals the name and 
 renown of Drusus. The traveller is con- 
 ducted to view and ascend it by an Aus- 
 trian orderly. It looks down proudly, and 
 
60 &ERMANY. 
 
 rather contemptuously on the unpicturesque 
 forms of the modern works, and upon can- 
 non, those meaner engines that in the day 
 of Rome were not. 
 
 In the cathedral are found many old 
 tombs, to which the verger's long tale is 
 attached; but none does he tell more 
 briefly, and before none does the visitor 
 stand so long, or with so delighted a feeling, 
 as that of Frauenlob the Minnesanger. The 
 sculpture is small, and quaint : eight gentle 
 dames are represented as supporting his 
 bier : such were the funeral honours of 
 Henry of Meissen. He lived and died a 
 canon of the cathedral ; the lyre the solace 
 of his days, and he sung the praise of 
 woman. Five hundred years have rolled 
 over the city, and scarce fewer calamities ; 
 yet here, surviving the shrines of saints, 
 and the tombs of princes and warriors, the 
 name and the fame of a humble bard re- 
 main cherished and sacred. Strange and 
 delightful memorial ! honour to it ; and 
 peace to thy manes, Frauenlob. In the 
 lays of the Minnesangers I find no spe- 
 
GERMANY. 61 
 
 cimen of Henry of Meissen, although the 
 engraving of his tomb forms the appro- 
 priate frontispiece to that interesting vo- 
 lume. All, therefore, that I know of him 
 is, that he was one among those to whom 
 women should feel indebted to this very 
 hour ; for, no secondary cause has so hu- 
 manized, refined, and blessed our world 
 below, as the high place in man's esteem, 
 and tender reverence, which the minstrel of 
 the middle ages did first assign to them, 
 and the knights of chivalry in brave accord 
 confirm. As I turned to leave the tomb, 
 one sad thought forced itself upon me. I 
 have read somewhere, that it is the thorn, 
 which piercing the breast of the nightingale, 
 causes the sweetness of that melody we 
 love. — This bard lived and died unwedded. 
 On the morrow T left Mayence, delighted 
 with my short sojourn, and looking back 
 on it all the way to Biberich with admir- 
 ation and regret. There is a chateau at this 
 place belonging to the prince of Nassau ; it 
 is pleasantly situated in a garden on the 
 banks of the Rhine. I left my carriage at 
 
62 GERMANY. 
 
 the gate, and walked into the grounds. 
 Before the house I saw two sentinels, who 
 suffered approach and said nothing ; but I 
 was quite confounded as I came suddenly 
 on a glass door, and saw persons seated, 
 and moving within. I hurried past, and, 
 at a side-door in the wing of the building, 
 asked if there was any part of the chateau 
 to be seen. From two persons I got a "«/«," 
 " 7/a," but no instruction or offer of assist- 
 ance. Near the stables I saw two grooms 
 in quiet liv^eries of grey. One of these, a 
 smart handsome man, returned with me, 
 and spoke to the maitre d'hotel, who was 
 standino; in a full suit of black close to a 
 maid servant, engaged in washino; silver 
 plates as they were brought from table. 
 This majordomo gave a gracious "?/«," 
 the maid two, and a nod ; the groom 
 pointed out the way up stairs, bowed re- 
 spectfully, and went away. 1 mounted, and 
 found myself at liberty to pass along gal- 
 leries, with bed-chamber doors half open, 
 and seemingly not long deserted by their 
 occupants, till, at length, opening a door 
 
GERMANY. 63 
 
 at the further end of a long corridor, I 
 entered a gallery, running round a painted 
 dome. Close to me was a gilded Corinthian 
 capital, and below, as if exhibited for the 
 gazer's entertainment, the duke and three 
 others partaking of a dejeuner a lafourchette, 
 and waited on by several attendants, in full 
 suits of black, with shoulder knots of orange 
 ribbon. At a glance I saw all this, and that 
 the party were eating off silver, but I in- 
 stantly retired ; not that I believe I should 
 have done anything contrary to usage by 
 sitting the scene out; but to a plain English- 
 man this kind of thing is felt either painful, 
 or ridiculous ; for a duke of Nassau is not 
 exactly a king of France, and I should as 
 soon have dreamed of looking into the 
 breakfast parlour of a quiet English noble- 
 man, or country gentleman, as into his. 
 
 From hence I drove to Wiesbaden, a 
 small place of baths, with just that sort of 
 aspect that seems distinctly to say, here 
 you either must be happy, or pretend to be. 
 Smile and stay in welcome; but if you be- 
 gin to sigh, away with you. The place is 
 
64 GERMANY. 
 
 all white. The hotels white, and vast ; the 
 salles white, and vast. I sate down to a 
 long dinner table, about as full as a ball 
 supper table at home, and about in the 
 same comfort, — soups cold, and wines 
 hot. 
 
 There was one lady in the company, al- 
 though it was only the noon repast, in full 
 dress ; arms and neck uncovered. It had a 
 very strange appearance, all the rest were 
 so shawled and bonnetted. She was a 
 handsome woman of vulgar beauty, if I 
 may use such an epithet without sacrilege, 
 and I could not but suspect that it was 
 a designed mistake. 
 
 There is a very fine building at Weis- 
 baden, called the Kursal, appropriated to 
 public amusements ; it is three hundred 
 and fifty feet in length, by one hundred 
 and seventy in breadth: — the great saloon 
 is truly magnificent. We have no idea at 
 home of amusement conducted on the 
 scale on which it is here. 
 
 Restauration, balls, billiards, cards, mu- 
 sic, all under the same roof, and, in the 
 
GERMANY. 65 
 
 arcades adjoining, such shops as are ahvays 
 to be met with at watering-places, for the 
 sale of trinkets, toys, bon-bons, essences, 
 music, and engravings. 
 
 The city of Frankfort did not interest me 
 at all : there appeared no bustle, no ac- 
 tivity in its streets ; and I believe, at no 
 time, except at the season of the fair, is 
 there much, if any. It rained heavily 
 during my short stay, at which I was well 
 pleased, for the weather had been intoler- 
 ably hot, and the roads dusty. The traveller 
 can scarcely be weather-bound in a place 
 ministering more abundantly to his com- 
 fort than Frankfort. The hotels are excel- 
 lent : he will find at the casino English 
 newspapers and reviews ; and it is just a 
 spot for repose and letter-writing. 
 
 I passed a morning in the Picture Gal- 
 lery. It has not much to boast of, but 
 there are many specimens of the old Ger- 
 man school which always produce the same 
 effect on me as the reading of an old ballad ; 
 an effect which few, who are acquainted 
 with it, can deny to be very delightful. 
 
66 GERMANY. 
 
 In the garden-house of a merchant I saw 
 the admired statue of Ariadne, by Dan- 
 necker. To my eye the figure is altogether 
 too large, too fleshy. It is exhibited with 
 a great parade for producing, artificially, a 
 voluptuous effect, —happily, in vain; for 
 the marble is covered with spots and 
 streaks, blue and livid as those on a body 
 tainted by the loathsome plague. 
 
 Although, however, this subject was to 
 my taste a very disappointing one, I love 
 the art too well not to offer my tribute of 
 admiration to the sculptor. It is pleasing 
 to think of a boy of thirteen determining 
 his own path in life in the fearless and in- 
 teresting manner in which he is said to 
 have done so, and carried on irresistibly by 
 the power of his genius, gaining the high 
 honours of his art. 
 
 The theatres of Germany must be visited 
 by every traveller who would know the 
 people. That at Frankfort is a poor one, 
 the orchestra good. I saw my country- 
 women sadly caricatured in a drama, the 
 name of which I cannot remember. Spen- 
 
GERMANY. 67 
 
 cers of a pale blue silk, with waists of a most 
 immoderate length, and round straw hats 
 with very narrow brims, disfigured two red 
 and white women, whose beauty would at 
 no time have been very remarkable, and 
 who were selected as the representatives of 
 the two lovely daughters of an English 
 merchant. This worthy old gentleman is 
 prevented from throwing himself into the 
 Thames by an English nobleman, who is 
 walking London bridge at the same mo- 
 ment, and with the like intent. There are 
 scenes of punch-drinking, love-making, and 
 marrying : — as I could understand little if 
 any thing of the dialogue, I can only say that 
 I thought the piece absurd. I was not sorry 
 to feel thus at my first introduction into a 
 German theatre, as I had occasion, in other 
 places, to observe that the attention to cos- 
 tume in Germany is in general, especially as 
 it regards the early and middle ages, correct, 
 and the acting most natural and impres- 
 sive. There was a lady (from Prussia I be- 
 lieve) in one of the boxes of surpassing 
 beauty: there really seemed a light all about 
 her. 
 
 F 2 
 
68 GERMANY. 
 
 The dismantled ramparts of the city are 
 laid out in pleasant gardens, and between 
 the showers I met in them numbers of fine 
 looking children, prettily dressed, in charge 
 of staid old German nurses. As to cos- 
 tume, in general, the gentlemen of Frank- 
 fort are not to be distinguished from those 
 seen daily on our Royal Exchange. The 
 old part of the town is dirty enough, never- 
 theless its narrow streets have a very pe- 
 culiar and a very picturesque aspect ; and 
 then they have been walked in long, have 
 seen new elected emperors ride through 
 them, and have listened to many procla- 
 mations. Neither the Election Hall nor 
 the famous Golden Bull did I see ; nor can 
 I shelter myself under the excuse of Bishop 
 Burnet, for, so far from any difficulty at- 
 tending the visit, I believe that it was 
 because a domestique de place pestered me 
 about it, that I did not go. 
 
 Near the gate of Friedberg is a monu- 
 ment erected to the memory of the brave 
 and devoted Hessians, who fell at the as- 
 sault of the city in 1792. There is a huge 
 and hollow helmet on this monument which 
 
GERMANY. 69 
 
 greatly pleased me, as did the whole me- 
 morial, although I am aware that in strict 
 taste the style and proportions may be con- 
 sidered faulty. 
 
 The road to Darmstadt traverses a very 
 noble pine-forest. The town, though small, 
 has a handsome, court-like look ; the 
 square is really fine, as is the grand street 
 leading from it. I found a good hotel, and 
 got a very cheerful chamber. In this place 
 I lingered delightedly for three days. 
 There are most pleasant gardens to walk 
 in ; there is an excellent opera for those 
 who love music, — and who is there does 
 not ? there is a gallery of paintings, in 
 which are many pieces of acknowledged 
 merit ; and yet, with all these appendages 
 of a court and a city, Darmstadt is as still, 
 as tranquil as a village. 
 
 I was not a little amused at two re- 
 hearsals of the opera of Fern an Cortez, 
 where the Duke himself, the scroll of leader 
 in his hand, governed his orchestra in per- 
 son. I largely forgave him his hobby, 
 while I listened to his fine full band, and, 
 F 3 
 
70 GERMANY. 
 
 if he would only be a little more consider- 
 ate to Mayence, should regard this harm- 
 less folly not very indefensible : he might 
 have tastes quite as costly, though they 
 would be regarded as more princely. May 
 it not be a beguilement, in which he seeks 
 to conceal from himself the nothingness of 
 his poor sovereignty, and to console himself 
 under a sad bodily infirmity ? I was parti- 
 cularly struck by one thing ; although he is 
 crooked, has an infirm and bending gait, and 
 an impatience of manner, which might tempt 
 to ridicule, yet does he bear himself withal 
 so much the gentleman and the nobleman, 
 that no liberties appeared to me to be taken 
 with him, and the musicians were all most 
 subduedly obedient in their calling. I re- 
 mained at Darmstadt for the final repre- 
 sentation : the scenery was fine, the cos- 
 tumes of the Spanish characters excellent, 
 in the true old Castilian taste. Those of the 
 Peruvians were, of necessity, fanciful rather 
 than correct. The theatre was very bril- 
 liant and well lighted. With the sole ex- 
 ception of the prima donna, the singing 
 
GERMANY. 71 
 
 was not at all remarkable ; but the instru- 
 mental music was perfect. The chorusses, 
 too, of the Peruvian women, produced 
 quite a thrill in my bosom, they are so wild, 
 so shrill, so piercing, and the breaks so 
 sudden and effective. 
 
 At the risk of being considered tedious, 
 I cannot pass over the Picture Gallery in 
 silence. There are many chambers, and 
 some hundreds of pictures, the greater 
 part of them fit only, according to the 
 phrase, to cover walls : yet I often think, 
 even about pictures so spoken of, take one 
 away, take it to your own chamber, and 
 hang it up there, how a painting, poor in 
 the proud eye of the vain artist or wealthy 
 collector, becomes dear to the man of im- 
 agination. There is in this collection a 
 picture, the subject of which is the death 
 of Mary. There are thirteen figures in 
 the groupe ; the countenances are of a 
 calm, sacred beauty ; the costumes nun- 
 like, and in sober keeping. The effect of 
 the whole is solemn, sweet, and sad ; the 
 F 4 
 
72 
 
 GERMANY. 
 
 painter's name is John Schorel; the can- 
 vass small, two feet and a half square. 
 
 There is an embalming of Christ, with 
 the Marys, St. John, and two angels, — a 
 picture of great beauty, by Schwartz. There 
 is also a holy family, with Christ on the 
 the cross, Mary Magdalen, and St. John, 
 by — Unknown. 
 
 I pity the man who dares not admire a 
 picture because it wants the magic mint 
 press of a name. My perfect ignorance of 
 the art leaves me in this point happily in- 
 dependent. I rejoice to be pleased, and I 
 want no sanction for my admiration. 
 
 There is a fine Domenichino in this col- 
 lection, the subject, the Prophet Nathan's 
 Accusation of David. Nathan is a strongly 
 marked prophetic form and face, terrific in 
 gesture, and mantled in deep red. The 
 king is starting, and has the wide stare of 
 terror. I admire the painting, but like not 
 this way of telling that awful story. No- 
 thing, perhaps, was more calm, nothing 
 more stilly, than the utterance of " Thou 
 art the man." These simply-whispered 
 
GERMANY. 73 
 
 words must have resounded as God's own 
 thunder on the sinner's ear, and gone 
 down keener than a two-edged sword into 
 his heart. There is a St. John in the Wil- 
 derness, by Raphael ; a Virgin teaching the 
 Infant Jesus to read, with Joseph in the 
 back ground, by Ludovico Caracci ; a Peter 
 denying Christ to the Maid, by Domeni- 
 chino; an Old Man, by Spagnoletto ; a 
 Hagar in the Wilderness, by Pietro de Cor- 
 tona ; and many others, well rewarding 
 the time passed in gazing on them. 
 
 The court apartments in the castle, 
 which are shown to the visitor, have their 
 interesting old furniture, and their gaudy 
 new. The Chamber of the Throne is re- 
 markably rich in its decorations. I could 
 not help calling to mind the speech of Na- 
 poleon in 1814, when, on the invasion of 
 the alhes, he so angrily dismissed the 
 Chamber of Deputies, and in the course of 
 which he broke out with his rude but im- 
 pressive camp-eloquence: " What is it, 
 then, a throne ? only four planks of wood 
 nailed to<^ether, and covered with red vel- 
 
74 GERMANY. 
 
 vet ! It is not the throne ; it is the man 
 who sits on it — Moije suis le irone.^^ 
 
 There are many things in this palace 
 presented to the Grand Duke by Napo- 
 leon ; among others, a very elegant clock 
 from Paris. The device is classical, and in 
 the happiest taste. The figures of each 
 advancing hour issue forth from an urn of 
 alabaster, and the motto is, 
 
 " OMNIUM VERSATUR URNA." 
 
 In one small chamber is the portrait of a 
 little child ; it is that of the present King 
 of Prussia, and was taken when he was in 
 infancy. The person who conducted me 
 through the apartments told me, that when 
 this sovereign was last at Darmstadt he 
 breakfasted alone in that very cabinet^ op- 
 posite to his own picture. An anecdote 
 like this I love ; it shows a king confessing 
 his alliance with our common kind, wishino; 
 himself again, perhaps, the little uncrowned 
 thing that played free in a nursery, instead 
 of the sceptred monarch, labouring, and 
 14 
 
GERMANY. 75 
 
 that subjectedly, in a closet. Childhood 
 .is the season of true royalty; they com- 
 mand us all ; they bid us do this and do 
 that, come here and go there, show the 
 picture or tell the story, or sing the song, 
 and we do it all with delighted obedience. 
 It is innocence we serve ; nay, we feel them, 
 in so much, beings of a higher order ; we 
 forget not that of such is the kingdom of 
 Heaven, and that the angel of every one 
 among them does continually behold the 
 face of the Most High. 
 
 There is a beautiful garden in Darm- 
 stadt, called the Herrengarten, with wood, 
 and shrubbery, and winding walks ; a seat 
 on a mound commanding the extensive 
 plain beyond, and a small lake with an islet 
 in the midst, all fringed about with the 
 drooping willow. There is another garden 
 on the other side of the city, in an older 
 fashion, with fine shaded avenues, terraces, 
 fountains, and a large old conservatory full 
 of orange trees, — just the place for a sum- 
 mer fete. In a ramble to the south of the 
 city, I found on the plain a small camp 
 
76 GERMANY. 
 
 of horse-artillery, with a large butt for 
 practice ; and the pine-wood near was echo- 
 ins to the rollings of the drum, where a 
 set of chubby younkers were learning their 
 first beats under a drum-major. 
 
 In the streets of the city I saw the state- 
 carriages of the Duke going to meet some 
 honoured guest ; they were preceded by run- 
 ning footmen. This is old and courtlike ; it 
 provokes a smile, however. The less of sub- 
 stance in sovereignty, the more I observe 
 the shadow is always clung to. The waiter 
 at the hotel where I lodged professed to be 
 learning English, and begged me very hard 
 to give him some English book. Of the 
 few pocket volumes I carried with me, I 
 could not bring myself to part with one. 
 I o-ave him, however, an old pocket-book, 
 which I chanced never to have written in, 
 so that I furnished him with most import- 
 ant knowledge for a waiter; and he may 
 now learn how to measure out his respect 
 to English travellers according to a printed 
 list of our Lords, Commons, Baronets, and 
 orders of Knighthood. 
 
GERMANY. 77 
 
 The first part of the road from Darm- 
 stadt to Heidelberg lies in a wood of pines. 
 The sun lighted the rouojh rind of their 
 tall stems with a golden hue, and the sha- 
 dow of their black branches gave a fine 
 relief to the picture. I stopped at the vil- 
 lage of Alsbach, and, directing the carriage 
 to meet me at Auerbach, ascended Mount 
 Meliboecus with a German peasant-boj for 
 my guide. 
 
 The walk is delightful in itself, and from 
 association magical. It is the Odenwald 
 which you traverse : there are not many 
 large trees, but there is all that tall, tangled, 
 and matted brushwood which belongs to 
 the forest hill ; there is a talking stream ; 
 the path is circuitous, now ascends, now 
 dips, then rises again, and winds far about 
 to the tower-crowned summit. Save the 
 water, and your own voices, you scarce hear 
 a sound, without it be in parts the axe of 
 the wood cutter, who may be chance-seen, 
 far in the glen, at his solitary labour. 
 
 I practised the few words of German I 
 was master of with my young guide with 
 greater success than hitherto : at that age 
 
78 GERMANY. 
 
 they strive to understand you ; the older 
 German never does ; you either speak his 
 language or you do not. He is proud of 
 his mother-tongue, and cares for you in ex- 
 act proportion as you may be master of it. 
 I speak of the people. French carries the 
 traveller, with the greatest ease, all over 
 Germany ; and for the slight intercourse 
 you have with coachmen, barmaids, and 
 guides, a few words of German intelligibly 
 pronounced, and intelligently applied, will 
 answer all the purpose of warding off em- 
 barrassment. This I state, because I am 
 sure that many travellers, of a certain age, 
 are deterred from visiting that most inter- 
 esting country from an ignorance of the 
 language, and a despair of acquiring it. No 
 man, indeed, can read two dozen pages in 
 a German grammar without seeing that it 
 is a language most difficult of attainment, 
 its construction very perplexing in con- 
 versation, its pronunciati^on rarely to be 
 acquired by a foreigner, after that season 
 when the organs are yet flexible in youth, 
 and of an evident copiousness and richness 
 which few may hope to command but those 
 
GERMANY. 
 
 79 
 
 who have early lisped in it. This I say 
 not to excuse indolence, or discourage 
 industry, but to check presumption. Be- 
 fore many talkers of German, French a« 
 well as English, the puzzled persons they 
 address smoke, and remain dumb. Bound- 
 ing my own efforts most narrowly to my 
 daily wants, on a rapid excursion, I each 
 morning renewed my resolve to study and 
 master the rewarding language at some 
 favourable period as to leisure and abode. 
 
 From the tower of Meliboecus you look 
 out far over the vale of the Rhine, the red 
 cities on its banks, and the blue mountains 
 of the Vosges beyond ; immediately be- 
 low and around you lie the wooded and 
 wavy hills of the Odenwald, with here and 
 there a ruined castle on their summits. 
 The whole presents to the eye a very glo- 
 rious natural panorama. I descended by a 
 rude path to Auersberg: here I found 
 among the ruins a German gentleman and 
 his two sons, boys of six or seven years of 
 age. After examining the remains of the 
 castle he joined me on my walk down to 
 the village, where my carriage was waiting. 
 
80 GERMANY. 
 
 He was very agreeable, and amused me 
 much by a long and thorough German dis- 
 sertation upon the difference of character 
 in his two boys, and its developement in 
 the most minute circumstances. This he 
 was exemplifying to me, as they played be- 
 fore us, by the different way in which they 
 ran up and down the banks near us, and 
 the different objects that made them stop, 
 or attracted their young regards. He dis- 
 appointed me by speaking very lightly of 
 Madame de Stael's Germany, a book I 
 thought most highly of before I saw that 
 country, and think more highly of since 
 personal observation has confirmed to me 
 the value of it. I believe, however, that 
 the plain EngUsh of the old gentleman's 
 objection was that true love of father-land, 
 which resented the idea of any but a Ger- 
 man born, bred, and resident, treating any 
 subject connected with the history, the 
 institutions, or literature of his country 
 worthily enough. 
 
 The road from hence to Heidelberg, 
 along what is called the Bergstrasse, is a 
 wonder and a delight : the eye rests on 
 15 
 
GERMANY. 81 
 
 nothing but beauty, fertility, and abund- 
 ance ; the outstretched hand can touch no 
 branch that is not fruitful; it has all the 
 appearance of a vast garden ; the very tow^ns 
 and villages lose their man-made character ; 
 they, too, look as if they were but just 
 enough to preserve it from running to 
 waste, and as if the happy inhabitants had 
 been placed in them with the same blessed 
 command as our first parents in their Eden, 
 " to dress and to keep it." But I check a 
 rhapsody so naturally inspired by the scene, 
 and must confess to my reader, that this 
 paradise is traversed by a military road, and 
 that we need not look farther back than the 
 history of our own times to know, that 
 from these same trees the blushing fruit 
 has been rudely snatched by hands yet red 
 from the battle. This road terminates in 
 the valley of the Neckar ; the hills, between 
 which the river flows, are picturesque in 
 their character. On the left bank lies the city 
 of Heidelberg ; upon a wooded cliff above 
 it stands the castle. This ruin greatly dis- 
 appointed me ; it is a huge pile of build- 
 ing, dilapidated, roofless, windowless. Row 
 
82 GERMANY. 
 
 above row of square gaping vacuities stare 
 out upon you from walls, which want alike 
 the form and the colour that give dignity 
 to a castle, or interest to a ruin. It is 
 like the shell of a barrack, a hospital, or 
 a manufactory ; such, at least, it appears 
 in the glare of noonday. In the grey 
 hour of dawn, however, or the deep gloom 
 which follows upon sunset, the effect is 
 certainly imposing, and may be called ma- 
 jestic. I visited it at both those hours, 
 and I sate out on its terrace, looking 
 down the river on the glorious plain, 
 bounded by the Rhine, with an entranced 
 rapture. 
 
 There are some pinnacle points on the 
 loftiest part of the ruin, surmounted by 
 statues, the attitudes of which are gro- 
 tesque. In the evening hour they look 
 like living beings, and produce a very fan- 
 tastic illusion. I did not forget to visit the 
 famed tun ; it is like an old Dutch ship on 
 the stocks, a large ribbed vessel, tliat might 
 contain a sea of wine, and float it safely 
 over an ocean of water. 
 
 I met several students in the gardens, 
 13 
 
GERMANY. 83 
 
 both in groupes and singly. Heidelberg 
 is a university containing many hundreds. 
 Of German students I can only speak pic- 
 torially, as I have seen them in my brief 
 passage through the country, and as I have 
 been impressed by them. Their costume, 
 when clean, I am far from disliking, and 
 their sins of smoking and singing appear 
 to me venial offences ; even the drinking 
 of beer where they cannot get wine I for- 
 give. I believe Porson, our renowned 
 Grecian, would have smoked and drunk 
 beer with any two of them ; and, perhaps, 
 his shirt-collar might not have shamed the 
 whiteness of theirs. Tom Warton (that 
 well-beloved name) liked his ale and his 
 rubber of bowls, and so did the men of his 
 time. Ale-houses had a long day both at 
 Oxford and Cambridge, but Germany is 
 far behind us ; with her they are the rage 
 still, that is, where the country affords not 
 wine. Of the students in German univer- 
 sities the great majority are poor. The 
 period of their residence is a very trying 
 one, and nothing but the care generally 
 bestowed on their boyhood at home would 
 G 2 
 
84 GERMANY. 
 
 safely carry a youth through it, and restore 
 him, as * a late traveller tells us it does, " to 
 fall into his own place in the bustling com- 
 petition of society, and lead a p&aceful, in- 
 dustrious life, as his father did before him." 
 In their universities there is none of that 
 wholesome discipline so honourably distin- 
 guishing those of our native country. It was 
 the immediate and shrewd observation of 
 the Duchess of Oldenburgh, on visiting 
 Oxford: — " Here is one great secret of 
 your superiority in discipline, your scholars 
 live enclosed in colleges, and separate from 
 the citizens." But yet, with all these ad- 
 vantages, let a German traveller arrive at 
 an inn in Oxford, where some of the wilder 
 young gownsmen are holding such a dinner 
 and supper as we know they sometimes 
 do, and let him go next morning to the 
 theatre, and hear an unpopular vice-chan- 
 cellor and his proctors hooted, nay, liter- 
 ally, by some, howled at with a tone only 
 suited to a cock-fight; would it not be par- 
 donable if he were, for a moment, a little 
 
 * A Tour in Germany, by John Russel, Esquire, 
 vol, i. page 193. 
 
GERMANY. 85 
 
 staggered about the excellence of our dis- 
 cipline, and the gentleness of our manners ? 
 Yet a little enquiry would soon convince 
 him of the true worth and sterling qua- 
 lities of our students, and enable him to 
 smile away and forget such trifles, as cir- 
 cumstances by which he might have been 
 led to form a very unfaithful estimate of 
 the true character of that great and admired 
 seat of learning. 
 
 I mean not to institute an unfair and 
 impossible comparison between the com- 
 paratively wealthy gownsmen at our uni- 
 versities and tlie poor burschen of Germany, 
 but I want more allowance for the latter 
 than is generally made. 
 
 No man can pass an hour in a room with 
 German students without discovering that 
 they are worshippers of knowledge, and 
 lovers of their father-land. This love of 
 father-land does indeed give them heated 
 and vague notions, the warmth of which 
 does never, I hope, entirely die away, 
 while the vagueness settles down into some- 
 thing defined and valuable in permanent 
 guiding principles of life. 
 G 3 
 
86 GERMANY. 
 
 As to the foppery of their eccentric cos- 
 tume, be it remembered, that, a few short 
 years ago, every trifle which distinguished 
 the German from his French enemy, or 
 from those of liis own countrymen, cor- 
 rupted by intercourse with their conquerors^ 
 was of great importance. It is with such 
 an eye that I have looked upon their shape- 
 less coat, their long hair, their bare neck^ 
 and the open shirt-collar falling back upon 
 their shoulders. I have certainly seen 
 among them the would-be rakish, or rather 
 the rakish and the rude ; but many a cheek 
 have I observed pale with study, and many 
 an eye bright with the intelligence of that 
 happy age, when it is a pastime to attempt 
 the hill of Fame. When gathered together 
 at their universities they are all young, and 
 they dream that Germany might be a free 
 land. When they become men they awake, 
 and see distinctly the cheerless reality. 
 Then, contenting themselves with personal 
 independence as men, political liberty, as 
 members of a nation, they forget or forego. 
 Germany must go through a dreadful or- 
 deal before she can ever be (what they de~ 
 
GERMANY. 87 
 
 sire to see her) a country; she must be 
 made one by some ambitious and wide-con- 
 quering usurper, and he, or his successor, 
 chained up by charters, or made nothing 
 by a firm and resolved people. 
 
 I attended divine service at the Lutheran 
 church, and heard a sermon, of which I 
 understood nothing. The preacher was 
 serious and earnest in his manner, and the 
 congregation, especially the young students, 
 of whom numbers were present, devoutly 
 attentive. 
 
 On my way to Manheim I visited the 
 gardens of Schwetzingen. They are very 
 spacious, and, from the small number of 
 persons met in them, you can command 
 solitude. They cover nearly two hundred 
 acres : they have avenues, bowers, foun- 
 tains ; in these last an Arion, infant tritons, 
 dolphins, and aquatic birds, spout up the 
 waters. There are many statues, — a few 
 good and appropriately placed : — Apollo 
 shining in an open temple ; Pan seated on 
 his rock. There are several temples, a 
 mosque, and some Roman ruins imitated 
 with great skill. But nothing is more dis- 
 G 4 
 
88 GERMANY. 
 
 displeasing, ov disappointing to the taste, 
 than a mock ruin ; caught by the aspect 
 of a brown and broken tower, to walk to- 
 wards it with a quicker step, and to find 
 that it is all a scenic trick, that you have 
 been cheated of an emotion, makes you 
 angry with the artist and with yourself 
 
 You drive forth from Schwetzingen by a 
 most superb avenue of poplars. They are 
 not here thin in their foliage and waving, 
 but they are full of leaves : — the sky cannot 
 be seen through them ; and they rise to a 
 most stately height, resembling, to the 
 fancy, a long line of green obelisks ; only 
 the shadows these cast have freshness ra- 
 ther than solemnity, and the wind, as it 
 rustles amid their branches, tells you that 
 they are living things rejoicing in exist- 
 ence. Poplars are found all about German 
 cities, especially on the Rhine ; they form 
 quite a feature in all their town views, 
 and to my taste a very graceful one. You 
 approach Manheim through a line of num- 
 berless small garden-houses, but they are 
 close to each other,* situate in small plots 
 of ground, and dusty. Manheim, you are 
 
GERMANY. 89 
 
 told by guide-books, travellers, residents, 
 and domestiques de place, is one of the most 
 regularly beautiful towns on the Continent. 
 I admit the regularity, but deny the beauty. 
 There is a sameness, tame and tiresome to 
 the eye, — it is insipid, and uninteresting, 
 1 walked out to breathe freer in the suburbs, 
 and crossed the bridge over the Rhine. 
 From thence the view of the city is very 
 fine. The square towers, if I may so term 
 them, in the wings of the castle, rise above 
 the thick foliage of the trees in the garden, 
 red, massive, and ducal. I returned and 
 walked on the garden-bank, — the traveller 
 will linger long and late on it. There is 
 always a calm glory in this broad and beau- 
 teous river, as it glides stilly at the evening 
 hour, which fills the inmost soul with 
 peace. The living water speaks in silence 
 to your spirit; you feel all its immortality, 
 and it tastes repose. 
 
 The church of the Jesuits at Manheim is 
 a very handsome building. I found some- 
 thing in it quite out of character with the 
 general appearance of the city, where the 
 streets are all straight, clean, and new- 
 
90 GERMANY. 
 
 looking, the houses good and tall, and the 
 citizens well clad. It was a pilgrim, a true 
 pilgrim, one who might have served a 
 painter for a model quite as well four hun- 
 dred years ago as now. He had not at all 
 the look of your holy beggar, your alms- 
 seeking penitent. His dress was a coarse 
 robe of capuchin brown, without collar or 
 hood, bound round him by a thong of lea- 
 tlier ; he had a staff and beads, and his 
 shoes had the gathered dust of long travel. 
 His countenance was not of the common 
 order ; his cheeks were worn, and wan ; he 
 was not old, but his beard was grey ; he 
 had a small missal stained by his feverish 
 hand ; and the view of him, as he kneeled 
 in the deep and sincere agony of his prayer, 
 filled me with pity. These true penitential 
 figures always do good, and, in the old time, 
 must have produced a very strong, and 
 oftentimes a salutary effect wherever they 
 passed. Their very look is enough : how 
 forcibly it speaks of sin and sorrow ; of the 
 grave and judgment to come ! The assas- 
 sin might at such a sight cast away his 
 dagger ; the reveller forsake his wine-cup, 
 
GERMANY. 91 
 
 and the blood of the cruel libertine run 
 back coldly to a sickening heart. 
 
 On the drive to Karlsruhe the road passes 
 through several villages ; the houses (for 
 there are no cottages) are very tall, crossed 
 in many directions by black beams of wood, 
 and have shingle roofs. Their loftiness 
 gives an idea of space and comfort corre- 
 sponding well with the appearance of the 
 peasants, who are are all fine, stout, erect 
 men. The carriage of the people, indeed, 
 both here and throughout Germany, is 
 quite martial ; they all seem as though they 
 were trained to the field. You approach 
 Karlsruhe along the edge of the Hartz 
 forest, and it is a pleasant resting-place; 
 the streets have a clean, cheerful aspect. 
 It was early in the evening when I reached 
 the hotel, and, after dressing, I took a stroll 
 on a promenade outside of the town, in the 
 direction of Beyertheim. This is a place 
 of baths and amusement, resorted to much 
 in fine weather by all the inhabitants. The 
 path which I followed wound between a 
 well-kept road and a most beautiful green 
 plain. It was planted with trees and 
 
92 GERMANY. 
 
 shrubs, bordered with turf, had rural seats, 
 and all around wore the appearance of 
 pleasure-grounds ; all the persons, too, 
 whom I met, were walking enjoyingly, and 
 slow. Attracted by the sound of music, I 
 made my way to a kind of promenade haus, 
 standing in a garden at Beyertheim. On 
 the steps before a large saloon I observed 
 a groupe of officers, and a few civilians. 
 Judging it to be a place of public amuse- 
 ment, I mounted the steps, and asked a 
 gentleman, in plain clothes, if it was a build- 
 ing open to the public. He bowed a " Yes," 
 and pointed to me to enter. I did so, and 
 was not a little startled and confused to 
 find myself in a ball-room, hung with fes- 
 toons of leaves and flowers, and the benches 
 and chairs all round filled with the young 
 ladies of Karlsruhe, and their chaperones. 
 I saw with a glance that it was not exactly 
 public, came out again, apologized to the 
 gentlemen near for my intrusion, and was 
 going away, but they most promptly and 
 frankly entreated me to remain and witness 
 the balk They said my mistake was most 
 natural ; that, in fact, public balls were 
 
GERxMANY. 93 
 
 often <n\en there, but that this was a sub- 
 scription-assembly, supported by the mili- 
 tary of the garrison, a few of the chief 
 inhabitants, and the civilians in public em- 
 ploy, and that the ladies were all of their 
 families. A ball is always a pleasant sight, 
 if conducted with propriety and decorum ; 
 it is one which always gives a reflected 
 pleasure to a middle-aged man, not the less 
 sweet because somewhat sobered by the 
 knowledge of the incredible swiftness with 
 which the spring-time of life hurries by. 
 It seems but yesterday, to most men of my 
 age and profession, that we could journey 
 twenty miles to an assembly, dance the 
 short night away, and back to the early 
 muster of the troops ; but twenty years 
 have flown by with us all since that yester- 
 day ; yet I hope that we are none of us so 
 churlish grown as to dislike an occasional 
 ball, if it were only to see " lamps shining 
 o'er fair women and brave men," and hearts 
 beating happily. But this ball had the 
 charm of novelty, — a German assembly, 
 a circle of waltzers. I bear testimony, from 
 attentive observation on this evening, to 
 
94 GERMANY. 
 
 the extreme propriety and decorum with 
 which the Germans dance this their na- 
 tional figure. I take the dance to be one of 
 very great antiquity, as great, perhaps, as 
 the very commencement of men and wo- 
 men joining in the dance together. The 
 sacred dance of the East was entirely con- 
 fined to the service of the temple, and 
 mingled with their idolatrous rites, and is 
 undoubtedly of the highest origin ; but 
 this I take to be the genuine offspring of 
 the ancient German camps and settlements, 
 where, before their huts, youth and damsel 
 clasped each other, and moved in rude 
 circlings to sound and song. The waltz, 
 however, transplanted, becomes another 
 thing, and is no longer the German dance. 
 In Spain, for example, the dark beauties of 
 the south transfuse into it all the warmth of 
 their climate, and all the indolent voluptu- 
 ousness of their natures. In England, again, 
 I have noticed, from causes which it would 
 not be difficult to trace, the waltz assumes a 
 character either of great awkwardness and 
 painful constraint, or of a bold, unblushing 
 indecency, braving all censure. Here it 
 
GERMANY. 95 
 
 was not so : in points like these we are all 
 the creatures of custom, and probably, to 
 the eye of the unaccustomed German, many 
 parts of our old country dances may have 
 appeared to have improprieties greater than 
 his own. To him the waltz is customary 
 and innocent ; to us, at home in Old Eng- 
 land, it neither is nor ousht to be regarded 
 as innocent, and will, I trust, never gain 
 established favour. I have only spoken 
 thus because the Germans are taunted with 
 their passion for this dance, as if it stained 
 and demoralised their whole country. 
 
 I observed that such a thing as a lounger, 
 or an insipid, who will not join in the dance, 
 is not tolerated among them ; for, in the 
 cotillion part, a couple break out from the 
 large circle, and setting to any bystander, 
 he is led off to a waltz movement, before 
 he has time to ungird his sword. Again, 
 they have a custom, in parts, of taking each 
 from the assembled circle the lady or gen- 
 tleman of their choice, for one tour of 
 waltzing, quitting, for the time, their actual 
 partner; — a most pleasant privilege. I 
 was exceedingly interested : the girls ap- 
 
96 GERMANY. 
 
 peared to me to have great simplicity and 
 frankness of manner; and there seemed 
 an absence of all encumbering vanities in 
 their dress. 
 
 The music of the waltz has turns and 
 cadences of a character most soft, most 
 sweet ; and where two hearts beat with a 
 strong youthful attachment towards each 
 other may certainly minister delightfully, 
 and not without danger, to the silent lan- 
 guage of the eye. I thought of all this as 
 I looked on the cheerfully innocent smiles 
 all round me, and remembered that a 
 few years ago the gallant youth of Ger- 
 many could only snatch these pleasures as 
 they were hurried about, under one banner 
 or another, to scenes of combat and death. 
 I have dwelt too long on this, but the 
 young and their pleasures are dear to me ; 
 moreover, such a picture belongs essen- 
 tially to the aspect of German society. 
 
 " The wise man sees his winter close 
 Like evening on a summer day ; 
 Each age, he knows, its roses bears, 
 Its mournful moments, and its gay. 
 
TxERMANY, 97 
 
 ** Thus would I dwell with pleasing thought. 
 Upon my spring of youthful pride ; 
 Yet, like the festive dancer, glad 
 To rest in peace at even-tide." 
 
 One other stanza of this song I must give 
 for the sake of any once admired belle, now 
 in the conscious wane, reminding her that 
 it is the production of a songstress and 
 beauty of the olden time. 
 
 " The gazing crowds proclaimed me fair. 
 
 Ere, Autumn-touch'd, my green leaves fell ; 
 And now they smile, and call me good ,- 
 Perhaps I like that name as well." 
 
 La^s of the Minnesingers, p, 275. 
 
 The traveller will find Karlsruhe a most 
 pleasant spot to refresh in. Although the 
 country around is flat, the view from the 
 tower of the castle is beautiful ; the dark 
 mass of the forest seen on one side, and 
 the white town on the other, contrast 
 very happily ; and when you think that the 
 place owes its origin to the vow of a tired 
 hunter resting under a shady tree, where 
 now, in the midst of a cheerful and not in- 
 elegant square, his bones repose, your heart 
 
 H 
 
98 GERMANY. 
 
 is agreeably moved by the many strange 
 associations which mingle themselves with 
 your train of" thought. For the solitary 
 blast of some enquiring hunting-horn, you 
 have now full military bands filling wide 
 the air with their brazen and haughty 
 tones ; for the whispered prayer of the be- 
 nighted wanderer, the hymning of thou- 
 sands securely assembled in their handsome 
 churches. 
 
 In Rastadt I passed only a few hours for 
 the purpose of visiting the chateau. Here, 
 in dusty closets and glass-cases, are ex- 
 hibited numberless trophies taken from the 
 Turks by the warlike Margrave Louis Wil- 
 liam. Here are tarnished cloths of gold, 
 rusting arms, and housings heavy with em- 
 broidery, that the infidel came to battle in, 
 and a horse-tail standard! The traveller, 
 who chances to recollect the twenty-second 
 stanza of the Siege of Corinth, may quote 
 it here, if he can get the room to hjmselfi 
 and that wonderful picture of a Turkish 
 host will give shape and life to these relics. 
 I remembered most of it ; but, oh ! for that 
 boy memory again, to which page after 
 
GERMANY. 99 
 
 page of' any thing Uiat delighted was fa- 
 miHar enoii"'h to come clear at the biddino- 
 at any hour, in any place ! — it is gone and 
 will never return. Fragments, however, of 
 poetry are to the solitary traveller as music 
 and companionship. The man who travels 
 much, and alone, feels a fond personal ob- 
 ligation to poets. The fancy is never in so 
 happy a frame for receiving imagery as in 
 journeying; the heart never so ready to 
 listen to the melancholy moral, which, in 
 their moments of high and pure inspiration, 
 all truly gifted bards convey. 
 
 The apartments in this castle are all laid 
 out in the old taste. In one there is a por- 
 trait of this celebrated slayer of the Turks, 
 with a court wig large enough for two 
 judges; and there are the pictures of three 
 Turkish ladies whom he captured. There 
 is a closet most grotesquely walled with 
 china. There is a room filled with huntin^- 
 trophies, such as enormous antlers, and 
 pictures of dogs and keepers ; whence, 
 passing up, and out on the roof, you find a 
 colossal statue of Jupiter, gilt, sitting like 
 the irod and ouardian of the whole. 
 H 2 
 
100 GERMANY. 
 
 There is one old chamber in this palace, 
 which you enter through an ante- room hung 
 with faded tapestry, and where you find an 
 old state bed of crimson damask. The 
 view from the windows of it is upon a lawn 
 bordered by trees, and terminating in an 
 avenue. It has a peculiarly calm, still look ; 
 you involuntarily gaze out upon the tran- 
 quil scene, thinking with what a sweet 
 contentment one should awake and pass 
 the morning hour in it. I know it sounds 
 silly to attach any importance on paper to 
 such a trifle ; yet I do not think that any 
 one on the spot would learn that Bonaparte 
 once slept in this chamber, on one of his 
 military expeditions against the Austrian, 
 without being startled, and made to muse 
 a little. 
 
 It is no uncommon thing for travellers 
 on the Continent to see apartments that 
 have been occupied by Napoleon. He has 
 been everywhere ; in all the palaces in Eu- 
 rope (save ours) ; but the Spirit of turbu- 
 lence, the wielder of so much of our earthly 
 thunder, the king, the conqueror, when 
 you find that he has slept and waked in 
 
 i/i/ 'iiJ'^ 
 
GERMANY. 101 
 
 such a scene, you ask, for a moment, whe- 
 ther he did never, or here, or in like quiet 
 places, feel the nothingness of his pursuit, 
 and the meanness of ambition. 
 
 It was the fair in Rastadt, and the streets 
 were crowded with peasantry. The men 
 wore, for the most part, either long blue 
 coats, or short round jackets of that colour, 
 with leather breeches, cocked hat, and 
 buckles in their shoes. The costumes of the 
 women were rather more varied : — some all 
 in black, and unadorned ; others with little 
 coloured or embroidered coifs ; others with 
 fur-caps, having a red crown and tassels of 
 tinsel. The goods exposed for sale were 
 mostly for common use, and of little va- 
 riety, and the fair seemed only frequented 
 and supported by the peasant population. 
 There were many stalls with articles for 
 dress, such as shawls for the women, of a 
 deep red dye, laces, and ready-made caps, 
 men's hats, shoes, and clothes, and one very 
 large stall of second-hand coats, &c. ; where 
 I was sorry to observe great custom, for no- 
 thing but a pinching poverty induces even 
 the humblest peasant to buy cast-off cloth- 
 H 3 
 
102 GERMANY. 
 
 ing. There were all sorts of farming and 
 kitchen utensils, and numerous stalls for 
 provisions ; also a few with coloured prints, 
 for cottage picture galleries, with strings of 
 little beads for fairings, and pipe heads for 
 the life-lasting gift; and watching here I 
 could see the longing gaze, the slow pur- 
 chase, and the kind wish of the large heart 
 in no equivocal expression of countenance. 
 It so happens that in the very middle of the 
 one wide street where the fair is held, stands 
 the church ; all the better stalls, and larger 
 throngs of people being gathered imme- 
 diately about it. Sounds of greeting, and 
 joy, and conviviality, of the pledged glass, 
 and the loud bargaining, echo all around. 
 The great door of the church was closed. 
 On the steps of a small side-door sate an 
 ao-ed be«jorar-woman to gather the alms of 
 such rustics as might go in to visit the 
 shrines of their patron saints. I went in : — 
 one man I found in prayer before the high 
 altar ; he soon rose and passed out, and I 
 remained for many minutes alone with the 
 only human form in that deserted temple. 
 It was the pale corpse of a person, not 
 
GERMANY. 103 
 
 older than myself, that lay awaiting the 
 burial. 
 
 In drivinor out of Rastadt I met several 
 long waggons, filled with happy peasants, 
 going to the fair- The slow-paced animals 
 of labour were urged into a brisker trot to 
 keep time with the brisker spirits of their 
 fellow servants. These, permittedly for- 
 getting yesterday and to-morrow, were jolted 
 along, singing and laughing, now silenced 
 for a moment by a rut or stone, and the next 
 louder and more joyous from the confusion 
 caused on the narrow benches. 
 
 I went to see the small chateau called 
 Favorite, built about a century ago by the 
 Margravine Sibyl Augusta; it is a pretty 
 place, and rewards a visit. There is a cool 
 hall in the middle of the building, lighted 
 from above, and adorned with four foun- 
 tains. The apartments are none of them 
 large, but they are fitted up in various and 
 not unpleasing tastes ; some tiled with 
 china, some painted, some tapestried, some 
 embroidered by the hand of the Margravine 
 herself and the ladies of her small court. 
 There is one little chamber, the walls of 
 H 4 
 
104 GERMANY. 
 
 which are entirely covered with looking- 
 glass, japan gilt panelling, and a vast num- 
 ber of miniatures. Many of these are full 
 length forms, representing the Margravine 
 and her husband in masquerade dresses; 
 some rich and gorgeous, as Turkish and Spa- 
 nish ; others prettily or joyously imagined, 
 as those of hay-makers, reapers, shepherds, 
 vine-dressers. But the kitchen is the true 
 cabinet of curiosities, all things in it are in 
 a character so fanciful and freakish. The 
 cook's idol or dumb assistant is represented 
 by a wooden figure, a bloated, fat, squab of 
 of a gourmand; his huge paunch conceals 
 numerous small drawers for holding spices 
 and otlier nch ino;redients of sout-givinor 
 condiments. Near it hangs a painted board, 
 where, in compartments, tlie various ma- 
 terials for all high seasoned and savoury 
 dishes are duly displayed to assist the be- 
 wildered memory of that busiest and most 
 important of personages, a head cook. In 
 the closets and cupboards here you find 
 glass and china of every sort and quality 
 then known, and of various whimsical 
 shapes. For instance, glass animals or 
 
GERMANY. 105 
 
 monsters perform the part of cruets, and 
 among the glasses for wine are numbers as 
 quaint in form, and as capacious, as the 
 Bear of Bradwardine. 
 
 There is also a complete table service of 
 china-ware, the cover of each dish repre- 
 senting that which is served up within, as 
 turkey, peacock, wild- fowl, boar's head, arti- 
 chokes, asparagus, cabbages. Two of these 
 last, the large white-headed sort, and the 
 rough green savoy, are done so inimitably, 
 that they might, at a little distance, deceive 
 the eye. It is impossible not to image to 
 one's self the kind and playful merriment 
 of the feast, where these dishes made their 
 first appearance. 
 
 From the house I was conducted down 
 a long vine walk, trellised over head, 
 to a rustic hermitage built of unbarked 
 wood and cork, and thatched. It has a 
 rude chapel and two or three chambers 
 adjoining, in one of which is a table 
 with three waxen figures * : among them (I 
 
 * The fiffures are seated at this table. There is a 
 
 o 
 
 vacant ph^ce, which the Margravine was wont to occupy, 
 and the whole thing was designed to represent the Last 
 Supper. 
 
106 GERMA^JY. 
 
 write the fact with pain) that of our Sa- 
 viour. In another is a like figure of Mary 
 Magdalen. They show you a knotted 
 scourge, a coarse mat for sleeping on, a 
 penitential dress of chain work with small 
 pointed spikes to fret the breast, the back, 
 the knees, while performing the offices of 
 penance. I regarded the whole thing as a 
 park toy, and not a very reverent one ; but 
 it is not a toy : here, during the season 
 of Lent, the Margravine was wont to retire 
 and pass it in acts of penance that partook 
 of profanation, so ludicrous that they 
 might excite a smile if we did not see deep 
 enough into human nature and human 
 wants to be moved rather with pity 
 than indignation. Doubtless the heart of 
 this crazed being bled more severely be- 
 neath her gayest masquerade dress than her 
 breast under these iron tortures ; and, amid 
 sounds of unsatisfying merriment, her mind 
 was more deeply goaded than when on her 
 bleeding knees she passed the sad vigil 
 here. How painful to think of is this spirit 
 of fear, at once so humiliating, so agonizing, 
 and so vain, and differing so widely from 
 that which we are promised and com- 
 
GEKMANY. 
 
 107 
 
 manded to seek, namely, " the spirit of 
 power, of love, and of a sound mind !" 
 
 You pass into the well-known watering- 
 place of Baden-Baden, by a road which 
 turns off from the more public one leading 
 to Strasburgh, and runs, for a couple of 
 miles or more, into a deep and hidden vale. 
 The aspect of the place (the town itself I 
 mean) is not remarkable, and the stream, 
 on which it is built, is narrow and incon- 
 siderable ; but then it is a stream that flows 
 from hills, and hills of no common beauty, 
 which rear their woody summits on every 
 side, and fill the traveller's heart with glad- 
 ness. No situation can be more charming : 
 this retired place of baths lies deep-nestling 
 in as sweet a bosom as nature ever formed. 
 
 It was with some difficulty I got accom- 
 modated, and that in a bad hotel, the best 
 being full ; but the view from my window 
 at once soothed and contented me. 
 
 After refreshing I walked up to the 
 castle. You are shown what all castles 
 contain, — dungeons ; but here I met with 
 a new feature in them : there is a dungeon- 
 door of stone, of great weight and thick- 
 ness ; it moved upon its grooves so heavily, 
 
108 GERMANY. 
 
 and with a sound so sullen, so very mourn- 
 ful, that I stood by it awhile alone, turning 
 it to and fro, that I might fix in my mind's 
 ear for ever the melancholy tone. There 
 is a vaulted chamber near these dungeons, 
 where the secret tribunal, once so dreaded 
 throughout all Germany, is said to have 
 held its awful sittings. The upper rooms 
 are sufficiently cheerful, and the large hall 
 is surrounded by portraits of warriors in 
 armour ; among them is one in hermit 
 robe, and bearded. 
 
 It was growino' late, but I walked on into 
 the country, in the direction of the old 
 castle. The views, on all sides, were beau- 
 tiful ; the path soon wound up into a thick 
 wood ; it was gloomy and still. As I came 
 near the castle, but while it was yet con- 
 cealed from me, the sun set, and the deep, 
 deep red light that followed it glared 
 through the black trees with a solemnity I 
 have never seen exceeded. I now came 
 close upon and passed in at the old double 
 gate, and, looking into a little ruined chapel 
 on the left, found an old woman kindling 
 a fire, and a httle girl with her, about six 
 
GERMANY. 109 
 
 years of age. The wardership of this 
 ruined castle, the stewardship over a few 
 bottles of kirchwasser and schnapps, and 
 the privilege of conducting travellers about 
 these crumbling walls, are vested in this 
 poor family. The little Johanna (Yohanna) 
 tripped lightly before me to point out the 
 steps by which you ascend the tower. We 
 had not gone many yards when a young 
 Paris cit, who had just descended, came 
 breathlessly towards me, with a " Monsieur, 
 est ce que vous parlez Francois f^ — " Que 
 je suis charmc de vous avoir rencontrS.^^ — 
 " Le^bete quon ma donna pour me conduire 
 ici ne comprend pas un mot.''' — The undis- 
 turbed guide came slowly after, and the 
 young Parisian ran on with " Vous allez 
 monter. Monsieur.''^ — " Ah ! la vue est mag- 
 nifique, superbe.'"' — ** Mais vous etes dcjd 
 trop tard.^' — " Est ce que je vous accom- 
 pagnerai .^" — " Je remonterai,'' — " Non, 
 eh bien, je vous attendrai ici has. — Vous 
 reviendrez Lien tot, — // fera bientot nuif, 
 etje ne crois pas que le chemin soit sure'.^' — 
 After extricating myself with not a little 
 difficulty from this volunteer companion, 
 
110 GERMANY. 
 
 I passed on, he calling after me, " Monsieur, 
 vous ne resterez pas long temps ; il est deja 
 Men tard ; je vous attendraV — You may, 
 meth ought, — long. 
 
 It was the earliest portion of the twilight 
 hour ; a light, as of polished steel, still 
 lingered on the winding bosom of the fair 
 Rhine : a lofty mountain, with a dark crown 
 of firs, rose immediately near me, and turn- 
 ing, there lay before me the Black Forest. 
 
 " Schwartzwald," was uttered by the 
 soft and innocent voice of my little guide. 
 The words sounded magically in my ear ; 
 the scene at that moment was gloom of the 
 deepest. The forms of the forest hills 
 are wavy and shadowy; the night was falling 
 on them. I sent down the little child to 
 her mother, and remained till all was cur- 
 tained by blackness. I slowly descended, 
 and passed out of the arched gateway, 
 without hearing any sound but the slowly- 
 uttered " gutfe nacht" of the gentle little 
 Johanna. It has a kind, a meaning, a pro- 
 tecting sound, that " gut^e nacht ^ and the 
 " felicissima notte" of Italy is a heartless 
 piece of business compared to it. 
 
GERMANY. Ill 
 
 The effect of a lonely night-walk through 
 a wood is always awful ; but when that 
 wood is a part of the Black Forest, the one 
 shattered pine that leans across your path, 
 and the stumps of the many that have been 
 cut, and that gleam white and reproach- 
 fully, looking like monuments, give a cha- 
 racter to the scene which impresses the 
 mind with something that, but for religion, 
 would be terror, and, in spite of it, par- 
 takes of superstition. 
 
 There is a most pleasant walk on the 
 other side of Baden, of a very different 
 character; this leads to the convent of 
 Lichtenthal. A stream, meadows, cottages, 
 a shady avenue, and seats for rest, are the 
 objects among which you pass ; and you 
 see wood-cutters and sawyers busily en- 
 gaged at their clean labours. The court 
 of the old convent of Lichtenthal is farm- 
 like ; in the quadrangle are stables, imple- 
 ments of husbandry, and straw-litter. I 
 saw two of the sisterhood cross it in their 
 black garbs, with clean white hoods, and 
 fair German faces, looking like two figures 
 just stepped forth from a canvass of Albert 
 
112 GEllMANY. 
 
 Durer's ; and I heard the innocent, cheer- 
 ful sound of children's voices at their 
 school-lesson issue from the building that 
 they entered. In the centre of the court 
 was a fountain, that, with a calm, kind 
 tone, responded to, or rather mingled with, 
 that peculiar and pleasing murmur of young 
 voices. There are two chapels; in the 
 large one I only remarked, with any atten- 
 tion, the tombs of an abbess and of a priest. 
 They lay in their strait shapeless length in 
 hard stone; but the sculptor had contrived 
 to give to the countenances of both a 
 something of softness and expression that 
 might almost be called beauty. I notice 
 it because it is seldom, in these recumbent 
 figures, we find such a charm ; not but what 
 they have charms of a nature peculiar to 
 themselves. In the small chapel, near 
 these, is a monument to the memory of an 
 ancient Margrave, who lies (in armour) a 
 huge and shapeless statue or image of stone 
 on the top of it, a hound, as shapeless,by 
 his side, and his feet resting on a round- 
 headed, round-eared monster, which the 
 13 
 
GERMANY. 113 
 
 habit of* reading such things with a travel- 
 ler's gaze alone enables you to translate 
 into a lion. On a tomb, near these, is an- 
 other figure of a warrior, lying belted, and 
 in chain armour ; he holds a broken sword. 
 He, too, rests his feet on these otter-headed 
 lions, and four of them support his tomb« 
 The looking on these sights, as I have be- 
 fore said, of the old German paintings, is 
 like reading old ballads ; snatches of such 
 old compositions come to you like remem- 
 bered airs, and furnish appropriate music. 
 
 In my second walk to the old castle I 
 started early, took full time, went to the 
 rock above the tower, and sated myself 
 with the far and glorious view. Here is 
 a wooden building, erected for the accom- 
 modation of those happy little feasts 
 (pick-nicks), which are always among those 
 pleasures that youth, and parents who love 
 their children, most delight in. The walls 
 of this shed are covered with names cut 
 with knives, or rudely scrawled in charcoal. 
 Here the Legion of Honour is found in 
 friendly juxta-position with the order of the 
 Black Eagle ; the Austrian prince with the 
 I 
 
114 GERMANY. 
 
 shop-boy of Strasburg ; and here I saw 
 the names of two of my fair countrywomen 
 from a fine old English mansion. These 
 walks, this scenery, the quietude, the com- 
 fort, are very attractive to the taste, and I 
 think it one of the most delightful places 
 of summer resort with which I am ac- 
 quainted. I could walk about for ever, 
 and not tire of the scene. It is by no 
 means a dear place, and, if a man were to 
 make for it direct, not at a difficult dis- 
 tance, and most conveniently reached across 
 France. Here he might learn German, 
 read old ballads, listen to music, walk in 
 woods, and, if his health required it, take 
 the baths. A watering-place has always, 
 however, tastes to supply of an inferior 
 order ; and, accordingly, there is a pro- 
 menade house, where the fool may lose his 
 money, and some knave will be found to 
 win it ; and inscriptions may be noticed on 
 the seats in the gardens exhibiting as little 
 decency as sense. The principal spring, 
 called the Ursprung, and that styled the 
 Hollenquelle, where they literally come 
 and scald their fowls, are those visited by 
 
GERMANY. 115 
 
 strangers as objects of curiosity. The 
 antiquarian taste may find an liour's amuse- 
 ment in a small museum of Roman monu- 
 ments, all of which were collected in or 
 near Baden ; and there is a lounging library 
 for the hot hours of early noon. It is a 
 place which, I should think, few travellers 
 would quit without regret. 
 
 On the road from Baden to Strasburg 
 I was in a carriage with a chance-collected 
 party. We met a young man with a knap- 
 sack on his back, very well-looking, and 
 decently clad, who ran by our side, and 
 stretched forth his hat for alms. No 
 Englishman is slow to give the casual six- 
 pence, but he rejects at once a petitioner 
 of such appearance, and with a feeling of 
 anger or contempt. A German in the 
 carriage, to judge from externals penu- 
 rious in his habits, questioned and relieved 
 him. My curiosity was excited, and the 
 gratification of it tended to correct a feel- 
 ing of prejudice which had arisen out of 
 ignorance, and which I rejoiced to have 
 removed. 
 
 I 2 
 
116 GERMANY. 
 
 He told me that it was the customj 
 throughout Germany, for young men learn- 
 ing a trade to travel for two or three years, 
 taking journey-work in different towns or 
 cities in their route, before they settled in 
 their calling at home ; tliat it often hap- 
 pened they were disappointed of obtaining 
 labour, and not unfrequently had to journey 
 long distances, dependent on the libercility 
 of those whom they met, or of the town 
 where they passed the night. This it was 
 deliiihtful to know, as it henceforth became 
 a pleasure and a duty to assist them. I 
 like not the system ; for I think that it 
 must very much unsettle the habits of 
 young mechanics ; that it exposes them, at 
 a very dangerous age, to great temptation, 
 and that it frequently subjects them to 
 a state of need not favourable either to 
 a becoming spirit of independence, or 
 to steady industry. It must be confessed, 
 however, that there is nothing of the mean 
 suppliant in their application ; the hat is 
 taken off, and the question is asked in a 
 plain, frank manner, and seldom in vain, 
 
GERMANY. 117 
 
 for the Germans are a most friendly, gene- 
 rous, and a veri/ considerate people. 
 
 Strasburg is a large uninteresting city, 
 a frontier garrison, a place of rest, relay, 
 and conference for generals and ambas- 
 sadors. The inns are still full of the recol- 
 lections of the war, and of the great men 
 who have occupied their chambers. Here, 
 therefore, an unattended traveller is thrust 
 into a little cabinet, and any remonstrance is 
 met by a smile, or a shrug, or a consolation, 
 or, what is worse than all, by an impudent 
 assurance that it is the best unoccupied 
 apartment in a large, straggling, empty hotel. 
 Such was my fate. I consoled myself by 
 a good supper and a bottle of excellent 
 wine. An English gentleman came into 
 the saloon and took coffee opposite to me. 
 We naturally fell into conversation ; and as 
 the talk of travellers generally runs on tra- 
 velling, on what they have seen, and what 
 they desire to see, we found out that we 
 were bound, for a few days, in the same di- 
 rection. Though averse from a travelling 
 companion, especially a stranger, I agreed 
 I 3 
 
1J8 GERMANY. 
 
 to journey with this gentleman to Schaff- 
 hausen through the Hollenthal. My com- 
 panion proved a most agreeable, full-minded 
 man, with a well-thumbed Euripides in his 
 pocket, yet not a word that betrayed the 
 pride of a scholar in his converse. 
 
 The tower of Strasburg cathedral is a work 
 of wonder and beauty ; tall, massive, when 
 seen in shadow, but when the light shines 
 through its open tower and spiral turrets it 
 seems a fairy structure. I prefer, however, 
 and greatly, that of Antwerp : the form is 
 more graceful, and has equal majesty. 
 
 In a church in this city is the tomb of 
 the celebrated Marshal Saxe. The Mar- 
 shal is represented in the act of descending 
 into the grave ; a figure of Death is eagerly 
 opening the vault with one hand, while in 
 the other he holds up an hour-glass, whence 
 the last sands have just run out. The figure 
 of the Marshal, his attitude, his air, his 
 fixed and tranquil gaze, are all noble and 
 expressive ; and, whatever may be the con- 
 ceits and defects of this monument, as a 
 whole, they are abundantly redeemed by 
 that one statue. 
 
GERMANY. 119 
 
 The effect on the beholder will be dif- 
 ferent according to his age, his profession, 
 his habits of thought, and the spirit of his 
 religious impressions. No soldier can look 
 upon it without interest ; it seems to say, 
 I have always known that this was the end, 
 that 
 
 " The paths of glory lead but to the grave." 
 
 The natural heart throbs with pride to 
 see death thus bravely met, thus calmly 
 despised ; but that throb is stilled, that 
 pride laid in the dust, by one awful thought, 
 the force of which has been felt by the very 
 haughtiest and most daring intellect of our 
 day. It is " the archangel's trump not 
 glory's" that shall awaken him and the 
 youthful minister whose early death and 
 hallowed life are recorded on a modest 
 tablet of marble, not far from the encum- 
 bered monument of the warrior. The 
 nameless persons who gave the humble 
 slab, at once briefly and beautifully describe 
 the character and worth of the departed, by 
 representing themselves as " lugente^ amici, 
 auditores gratV 
 
 I 4 
 
120 GERMANY. 
 
 One of the most triily characteristic 
 figures that I saw in the city of Strasburg 
 was a French officer of rank, short in sta- 
 ture, with large epaulettes hanging forwards 
 upon rounded shoulders, and these last 
 raised to the utmost. His sword was tucked 
 under his arm like an umbrella, his pace 
 rapid and hurrying as a London language- 
 master, and his air altogether so unmilitarj, 
 that you might traverse Germany for such 
 a fio'ure in vain. Yet was his breast covered 
 with disreo-arded decorations : and I could 
 not but view that pace as emblematic of the 
 restless energy and activity which enabled 
 the armies of France to carry the eagles of 
 Napoleon wherever his bidding directed 
 them. 
 
 The air of the garrison was remarkable. 
 The young officers appeared to live through 
 the day with laughter, but the older sol- 
 diers of humble rank, such as captains, and 
 those below them, had that blank air of 
 settled disappointment and increasing omui 
 which, though silently, was yet distinctly and 
 continually asking, " Is this the end ?" — 
 *' Was it all a dream ?" — " Were we really 
 
GERMANY. 121 
 
 the conquerors of all Europe ?" Yes, hap- 
 pily, it is the end; and they now mount 
 the dull and daily guard peaceably, and with 
 as little of pride as may well consist with 
 shako and plume, and the treasured re- 
 membrance of those electrifying bulletins 
 which so pithily recorded their many, and, 
 in truth, gallant exploits in arms. 
 
 I think it was from Kehl, only just across 
 the river, that Napoleon, in 1809, issued 
 one of those brief orders to his army on 
 suddenly joining and putting it in motion, 
 which at once prophesied and produced his 
 triumphs. It called to the recollection of 
 the soldiers, that they were round him in 
 his camp-hut in Moravia, when Austria 
 swore eternal friendship and fidelity to 
 him ; it spoke of moderation and gene- 
 rosity to that power (with little regard to 
 truth) ; it accused her of breaking a solemn 
 treaty by passing the line of demarcation, 
 and thus commencing hostilities ; it boasted 
 that, on hearing this news, he had flown to 
 them with the rapidity of the eagle, and 
 it closed with these remarkable words : — 
 
122 GERMANY. 
 
 " MarchonSi et qud viie de nous, que les Au- 
 trichie7is reconnoissent leurs vainqueurs''' 
 
 The gentleman whom I had fallen in 
 with and myself took a carriage between 
 us to SchafFhausen. 
 
 Our first halt for refreshment on the road 
 to Friburgh was at a small town, the name 
 of which I have forgotten, though I well re- 
 member how the aspect of the long old 
 street delighted me. Its quaint fronts, and 
 its numerous bay-windows, are striking fea- 
 tures, although these last might be judged 
 useless to all such old women as delight in 
 sitting at them, for not a human being was 
 moving in that street save ourselves ; not a 
 boot-tramp, not an urchin at play, or a 
 child crying; not a girl tripping to draw 
 water: by the way, the German girls in 
 this part of the world do not trip, but they 
 plant a foot, and that none of the smallest, 
 firm, flat, and heavily on the earth. The inn 
 where we alighted was distinguished, even 
 m this old place, by superior antiquity of 
 front, being xichly ornamented with old, 
 black carved wood-work. 
 
GERMANY. 123 
 
 The landlord came to the door, not out, 
 and saluted us ; then asked the driver, 
 while we were descending, if we spoke 
 German, and if we wanted dinner ; which 
 last question he repeated to us as we en- 
 tered the house, and being replied to in the 
 affirmative, he walked slowly to order it. 
 The room was quite a picture: — several 
 old heavy tables ; long, old, black settles 
 against the walls, and a few solid wooden 
 chairs made to outlast many a generation 
 of smokers. Some coarse young boors were 
 drinking at one table, an old wayfaring man 
 taking ein zuppen at another ; while a third 
 was slowly and deliberately covered with a 
 clean white napkin for us. This the old 
 hostess, who was engaged in the middle of 
 the room mangling great quantities of 
 household linen at a heavy press of black 
 wood, delivered to him from a countless 
 store in which she seemed to pride her- 
 self, and then resumed her occupation 
 with a plain unbusthng air. Now, for 
 travellers, who go to see, this kind of 
 thing is most pleasant, — for those (and there 
 are many) who go to make a little parade 
 
124 GERMANY. 
 
 and display, it must be somewhat mor- 
 tifying. Ourselves at one table, our driver 
 at another, the old wayfaring man, the 
 young boors, were all served with like at- 
 tention of manner. Our fare was good, our 
 wine excellent. The host said a word at 
 one table, a " guten appetite'' at another, 
 and then chatted with his wife, who quietly 
 mangled piece after piece, and looked about 
 the room with the air that she would if a 
 set of children were feeding before her ; — 
 acknowledged objects of her care, but to 
 whom she did not feel responsible. 
 
 The masters of these kind of country 
 inns in Germany are often represented by 
 travellers as surly, deficient in courtesy, 
 and unwilling to accommodate. It is not 
 impossible that some of them, having suf- 
 fered not a little from haughty exacting 
 travellers, may intrench themselves against 
 impertinence by a sullen demeanour, and 
 that a few scattered individuals may here, 
 as in all countries, be dull or brutal ; but 
 thus, generally, to characterize the German 
 landlord is unfaithful, and not fair. The 
 truth is, the man feels himself the master 
 11 
 
GERMANY. 125 
 
 of his own house ; he receives strangers 
 without obsequiousness, without any very 
 eager desire to pick their pockets, but as a 
 plain host ready to supply their wants when 
 made acquainted with them ; and if, while 
 they are under his roof, he likes their man- 
 ner, his own will, in some degree, warm up 
 to it. 
 
 Such was the impression I received, and 
 I found it repeatedly confirmed. 
 
 Go where you will in Germany the per- 
 sonal independence of the individual Ger- 
 man strikes you very forcibly, and it is, 
 perhaps, the kind of contentment which 
 this generates, combined with a conscious- 
 ness that Germany can never be one great 
 united nation, which renders him so indif- 
 ferent to political changes, so little inclined 
 to stir and rouse himself to produce them. 
 The word Father-land is indeed a talisman 
 of acknowledged power; it unites, for the 
 moment, all true German hearts ; and their 
 language, that seems not only to be printed, 
 but to be spoken, in black letter, is another. 
 
 We slept at Emmedingen, where there 
 is a good inn of the city stamp. The tra- 
 
126 GERMANY. 
 
 veller finds comfort, cleanliness, and ci- 
 vility. We drove through a very beautiful 
 country on a most pleasant morning to 
 Friburgh. This city has a particularly bright, 
 cheerful look, and it being market-day, and 
 all the peasantry filling the streets in their 
 holiday costume, the scene was very en- 
 livening. 
 
 The pride of Friburgh is its cathedral. 
 It is among the oldest in Germany. Its 
 tower with the spire, by which it is sur- 
 mounted, is five hundred and thirteen feet 
 in heio'ht, and is said to vie for renown with 
 that of Strasburg. Seen from below or 
 from a distance, it certainly does not pro- 
 duce an effect so imposing. Moreover, the 
 site here is unfavourable ; for hills of a bold 
 and abrupt elevation arise too near, and 
 such character of stately grandeur as we 
 naturally associate with loftiness is thus 
 altogether lost. But when you ascend the 
 tower and pass into a large hollow spire of 
 open stone-work, wreathed and twisted as 
 fancifully as an elegant toy might be, yet 
 of a strength that has defied ages, you 
 are powerfully struck with the taste of the 
 12 
 
GERMANY. 127 
 
 design, with tlie labour, and daring of the 
 execution. A light beautiful thing to look 
 up through to the blue sky, and out upon 
 the leafy hills : — a moonlight hour there 
 would be magical. It were worth some 
 delay to see it in the noon of a bright 
 night, — a temple, as it were, above a tem- 
 ple ; such as the Persian might have wor- 
 shipped in ; as open to the light and air of 
 heaven as a mountain's top ; a place where 
 you almost fancy that angels might de- 
 light to gather and stand with white wings 
 folded, and all attent for human sighs ; 
 those sighs which grateful love, when 
 chance awakened in the still night, breathes 
 to a God of mercy. 
 
 The choir of this cathedral is kept too 
 clean ; the wood-work shines with the oil 
 and varnish of yesterday ; the white and 
 yellow washes on the walls looked fresh ; 
 the pictures and their frames were clean. 
 In cathedrals I love " dusty splendour." 
 Those words, however, stand alone for the 
 banner-tapestried roof of some vast and 
 glorious pile, like our Westminster-abbey. 
 
128 GERMANY. 
 
 There is an university in this city. In the 
 saloon of the inn where we breakfasted 
 we observed several heads of the small 
 roebuck, a game that abounds in the 
 mountains near. The table d'hote was laid 
 for the dinner of noon ; it was a table fre- 
 quented by several of the students. I no- 
 ticed one napkin-holder embroidered in the 
 fashion of our old samplers at home. Do 
 they still exist, by the way, in dear Old 
 England, these samplers ? are they still 
 worked by the simple daughters of our 
 honest farmers ? The inscription on this 
 was, " Ansicht in alles,'' — " Foresight in all 
 things," — the sensible caution of some pru- 
 dent mother ; and very honourable was it 
 to see that the young man to whom it be- 
 longed could fearlessly use it in public 
 among his associates. I should like to 
 have seen such a youth ; but we set for- 
 ward again before the party assembled. 
 The fact is, that you cannot laugh Jwtne 
 out of a young German's heart. I will 
 venture to say, that any person, thoroughly 
 conversant in the German language, might 
 
GERMANY. 129 
 
 try the experiment upon German feeling, 
 among the wildest of the young biirschen 
 in Jena, or any where else, and find the 
 response most prompt, affecting, and true. 
 Our route now lay through the Hollen- 
 thal : this is a very disappointing mis- 
 nomer: you prepare your mind for horrors, 
 true German horrors, impending cliffs, and 
 black pines that topple on them, and cast 
 eternal shades ; huge masses of rock hang- 
 ing in those frightfully-suspended frag- 
 ments that menace the traveller, every 
 moment, with a crushing death, and the 
 torrent's voice, and the boiling bubble of 
 waters that have fallen headlonfr from hiah 
 steeps. These things your fancy images 
 forth in the Hollenthal, the Valley of Hell. 
 Well, there is nothing of all this: in parts 
 where the defile becomes narrow, the 
 scenery is romantic and bold, but no where 
 has it any character of sublimity or terror ; 
 on the contrary, by far the greater part of 
 the route it is softly beautiful, a sheltered, 
 secure, peaceful vale. About the middle 
 of it we stopped to refresh, at a clean, de- 
 lightful little inn, Welsh-like. It is situ- 
 
1 30 GERMANY. 
 
 ated in one of those sweet spots, on which, 
 if a man has ever gazed, he is sure to think 
 again, when care or sorrow press upon him. 
 It is a place to hnger in, never to leave : 
 the sights are velvet meadows and shelter- 
 ing hills, and black fir-screens, and cottages, 
 house-cottages for large families, with pent- 
 house roofs, or broad projecting eaves, and 
 covered all over with shingles, or tiles of 
 wood, beino; at once the most serviceable 
 and tasteful dwellings. I never saw any 
 thing, in their way, more beautifully neat 
 than the small wooden tiles. To these ob- 
 jects may be added clear, sparkling, and 
 glassy streams ; — not forgetting their 
 sounds ; — the cheerful, happy rushing 
 down ; — and their busier talk as they turn 
 the water-wheels of clean saw-mills, and 
 are sung to by contented labourers. 
 
 On the day on which we passed the Hol- 
 lenthal, almost all through the valley they 
 were getting in their after-grass ; and no- 
 thing could be more picturesque than 
 the effect of the many groupes of hay- 
 makers, — first, from the beautiful site of 
 almost all these meadows, —next, from 
 
GERMANY. 131 
 
 the rustic taste of the peasants : they wear 
 broad straw hats, which, being painted 
 straw-colour, preserve a new brightness, 
 and look summer-like and rational, con- 
 veying an idea of enjoyment, which we are 
 always happy to think may be associated 
 with labour. As we passed up out of this 
 valley, we gained a country open, but still 
 hilly, and still beautiful, a wild, a dreary 
 beauty, ^uch as suited with the blue cold 
 grey of that evening's sky, and prepared 
 us, as the night fell, to desire any resting- 
 place, and taught us content with that we 
 found. It was a small, wretched cabaret : 
 here, a dish of thin soup, made from the 
 field-pea, a rag of black meat, and bread 
 and wine alike sour, made us glad to creep 
 between coarse paillasses of straw, and for- 
 get that they were not down, and that our 
 fare had not been more palatable and 
 wholesome. We departed very early in 
 the morning : at a village on the road we 
 saw a funeral, attended, apparently, by the 
 entire population of it : all were dressed 
 coarsely, but decently and alike, and the 
 K 2 
 
132 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 scene was gratifying. The same afternoon 
 we reached Schaffhausen. 
 
 Switzerland is to no thinking mind a 
 strange country : we form acquaintance 
 with it in books, in drawings, in models, 
 by every after-dinner talk : dine where you 
 will, some man has seen the lake of Geneva 
 and Montblanc ; and you can ask no ques- 
 tion about Switzerland at table, but some 
 person is ready with a reply. Conscious 
 of this, and having seen but a small tract 
 of it, and that only in passing, yet can I not 
 resist the pleasure of recording, briefly, 
 what I saw and felt, in a very short traverse 
 of that most interesting line of country, 
 from Schaffhausen to the St.Gothard. This 
 is German Switzerland, and partakes, in 
 many ways, of the sober and sterling cha- 
 racter of the father-land. The town of 
 Schaffhausen is German in aspect, the 
 houses quaint and old-fashioned, the ap- 
 pearance of the people staid and quiet, and 
 their dress plain, and without any singu- 
 larity. A few peasant women, whom I 
 saw on the bridge, wore a head-dress of 
 black crape, not becoming^ but yet inter- 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 133 
 
 esting to the stranger's eye, as the pro- 
 vincial costume of the lower orders. 
 
 Mj companion and myself strolled slowly 
 about the town, and among the quiet gar- 
 dens in the suburbs, and at last seated our- 
 selves on a low wall, just without the gate, 
 close by the Rhine, at that point where its 
 blue waters roll, in a glassy volume, over 
 a gentle fall or break in the river's bed. 
 Smoothly they glide, even as youth, all 
 smiling and unwrinkled, and most gently 
 overflow ; then is their clear beauty gone, 
 and they break in troubled foam below. 
 
 There is no converse like social silence 
 on such a spot ; no painting, no poetry, no 
 music, like such a scene, and such sounds. 
 The soul is mysteriously moved, and 
 answers to that " ceaseless flow," that 
 voice eternal, with a feeling that assures 
 to it its own immortality. 
 
 The next day we drove to the falls. I 
 am told they generally disappoint travel- 
 lers ; what, then, do they expect ? San- 
 guine as I am, and much as I have seeir, 
 my expectations were surpassed. Visiting 
 them, as we did, from Schafl*hausen, our 
 K 3 
 
134 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 views came exactly in the order which I 
 should, under any circumstances, prefer. 
 For a great part of our drive we could see 
 the waters in their ordinary flow; here, 
 deeply blue ; there, glancing green ; there, 
 feathering in the eddy; but, as they ap- 
 proach the rocks, their motion slackens to 
 a calm, slow roll, with a smooth surface. 
 For a little while you lose sight of them, 
 but you hear them; not, however, very 
 loud. You now enter the castle of Laufen, 
 and, going into a small summer-house, lean 
 from the window, and look immediately 
 down upon the fall. Broken in its course 
 by large fragments of rock, which rear 
 their wet heads above the rushing waters, 
 the Rhine angrily divides itself into five 
 columns, two of amazing grandeur, and, 
 bursting past these barriers, breaks in a 
 sea of foam, and a voice of thunder, below. 
 It is a fine thing to lean over, and feel the 
 spray which they toss up at you, and to 
 hear their loud and conquering rush. Next, 
 you pass to a gallery below, built in under 
 the rock, and close to the great mass of the 
 largest body of water. I went over the 
 15 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 135 
 
 slippery plank, and leaned upon the rail — 
 wet and trembling — not with fear ; every 
 thing trembles ; the board you stand on, 
 the rail wliich you lean upon, the trees 
 on the nearest islet ; the very rock looks 
 unsteady as you gaze. It is impossible 
 to stand here without experiencing the 
 strongest, yet sweetest, emotions. There 
 is awe sublime, and yet present confidence : 
 you know that the waters have their 
 bounds, which they cannot pass ; the hand 
 of Him who walked the waves, and re- 
 buked the storm, upholds and reins them, 
 as they leap their headlong course, and 
 that, too, with fearful roarings, as if they 
 lived, and could, and would, but for the 
 God who holds them chained, and guides 
 their mad career, devour you. You ad- 
 mire, but you tremble as you admire. Thus, 
 near the bars of a new-caught lion's den, 
 as they see him chafe, and hear his loud 
 forest-voice, the safe crowd stand back- 
 warder in fear. I think the Rhine-falls 
 glorious: the view I least enjoyed is the 
 lull front one from the house or mill on the 
 other side of the river, and that in crossing 
 K 4 
 
136 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 is like it. There is not height enough 
 then, and the spread is too great. Three 
 German students stepped into the boat as 
 we got out, with knapsacks on their backs, 
 and staves in their hands, and sung to- 
 gether, as the young and the happy may and 
 should. We went to the camera obscura, 
 because it is usual, and therefore right to 
 give the expected fee ; but I confess that 
 I like not rocks and rivers so represented. 
 A camera obscura I can be amused by for 
 hours, when man is the thing exhibited, — 
 man LilHputianised. It is a fine lesson of 
 humility to see thus a crowded and fashion- 
 able esplanade, a race-course, a review, a 
 procession ; but a mountain and a water- 
 fall should never be reduced to miniature 
 size, save by the draughtsman, where, as ho 
 can never give the hue of nature and the 
 motion of life, you take his sketch, as it is 
 intended, for a memento, an aid to the 
 memory and the imaginatiouo 
 
 We proceeded on our route, and dined 
 at Winterthur. After our repast we walked 
 forwards, leaving the carriage to overtake 
 us. The road is pleasant : the country 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 187 
 
 residences have a look of plain comfort, 
 but little of taste. The two villages we 
 passed were not clean, and the appearance 
 of the peasantry very disappointing. Such 
 trifling disappointments, however, are at 
 once forgotten as you ascend the higher 
 ground, and see, far on your left, a line of 
 Alps crowned with snows, and clothed 
 grandly in majestic shadows. The day was 
 of that fitful cast, now bright, now summer 
 cloud, that at first we asked, are they of 
 our world, or of that heavenly one above 
 us? but, as the eye caught, and clearly 
 took in, the fixed outline, and realised their 
 giant forms, we recognised the great fea- 
 tures of that scenery which hallows all the 
 land. 
 
 I think that Zurich has been overrated : 
 the city is ill, and not conveniently, built. 
 The environs are beautiful : the view from 
 the promenade up the lake is a fine thing, 
 from which you are slow to turn away. 
 
 We visited the library, where are pre- 
 served the letters of Lady Jane Grey to 
 Bullinger. The hand-writing is the beau- 
 tiful scholar-hand of the period in which 
 
138 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 she lived. My companion kissed her sig- 
 nature (for which I Hked him the better) : 
 perhaps I should have done so, had I been 
 alone ; but without you originate an act^o£^ 
 folly it has no charm for you. Wewent to 
 the armory, and, among other relics, saw 
 the cross-bow of William Tell. The name 
 and the fame of Tell are one, and enough ; 
 but in this part of Switzerland they serve 
 it up after a flishion most offensive to taste : 
 not an inn do you enter but a set of French 
 prints stare at you from the walls, where 
 this self-ennobled peasant is most pro- 
 vokingly represented in a pair of tight 
 white pantaloons, chapeau a jjlumei vesfe d 
 la Milanese, and bottes au Hongrois, just, in 
 fact, as some artiste is made to screech the 
 part in an opera, or pirouette it in a ballet 
 at Paris. This is intolerable, and speaks 
 volumes for the regular inn-tour of Swit- 
 zerland. 
 
 One of the most interesting spots in 
 Zurich is the small still square containing 
 the church in which Lavater preached, and 
 the house in which he dwelt. From a low 
 wall you can look down into the garden, 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 139 
 
 where he was wont to walk, and in or near 
 which he was slain, when the fierce troops 
 of Massena possessed themselves of this 
 helpless and unoffending city. 
 
 The route towards Zug is delightful. 
 The views of the Zurich lake are enchant- 
 ing, and ever varying. The look back upon 
 the city in ascending a hill a few miles dis- 
 tant is particularly fine ; and as you drive 
 forward new features of the lake open at 
 at every step. 
 
 As we crossed the Mount Albis, and 
 began to descend, of a sudden there burst 
 upon our sight Alps in their white raiment. 
 Mount Rio:hi and Mount Pilate stood on 
 either side of this picture in the fore- 
 ground, and their dark and wild formsj es- 
 pecially that of Pilate, gave a vvonderful 
 effect to the snowy summits, which filled 
 the centre and back-ground, and rose pure 
 and clear into the blue sky. The scene had 
 a stilling power. Your senses are after- 
 , wards relieved and lulled by the soft green 
 beauties through which Zug is approached. 
 The inn at Zug is quiet and silent ; so is the 
 place itself There is a small maison de cam- 
 
140 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 pagne here about a mile and a half from the 
 town, situated most delightfully, and com- 
 mandino; a view which combines all that is 
 lovely and magnificent. There is an old 
 painted chamber in this chateau where are 
 the portraits of all the kings of France, and 
 where Tell is represented on the walls other 
 than in the print from the passage Feydeau. 
 There is a small painted oratory in this 
 building with a little gallery-closet above: 
 in the garden is a summer-house for even- 
 tide. It is altogether a sweet spot : I saw 
 not one in my brief passage through the 
 land where I would so gladly have anchored 
 for life. Our guide led us from hence to a 
 cemetery. The graves are all surmounted 
 by crosses of figured iron-work, upheld by 
 painted metal cherubim, with texts and lit- 
 tle pictures of the Virgin, or the Passion, 
 or Crucifixion, or some martyrdom, and 
 there is a great profusion of gilding on these 
 crosses. There is also a large grated ossu- 
 ary, where the piled skulls are preserved, 
 and on, or underneath many of them, on a 
 pasted slip of paper, you read the name of 
 the dead. Most painful sights these. I 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 141 
 
 like not gilding on the grave ; still less do 
 I like to see a name, that thing which calls 
 up features, and all that may have been 
 endearing in their expression, written upon 
 a sio-htless, fleshless skull. There are some 
 flowers planted near the tombs. This is 
 well, and the only thing that relieves the 
 feeling of the pensive mourner. I would 
 have fresh turf and early flowers and ever^ 
 green shrubs in all burial grounds ; and 
 trees, (not the black yew) but green trees, 
 should spread their pleasant shadows over 
 the still tenants of silent graves, who rest 
 from their labours. 
 
 Two men, assisted by a woman, rowed 
 us across the lake of Zug. This small 
 lake is, in its kind, and for its size, perfect. 
 On the left mountain heights, a chapel 
 (St. Adrian) at their feet ; to your right, a 
 pleasant bay; before you, the village of Art ; 
 and uprising from the lake, on the right of 
 Art, the royal Righi. We refreshed our- 
 selves at Art, and ascended this monarch 
 of ^mountains from Goldau. Where is 
 Goldau? you ask. It tc'«s here, is the 
 reply, as you arrive in a desolate vale, 
 
142 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 filled with huge fragments of rock, which 
 have bedded themselves in the earth and 
 are overgrown with grass. All over the 
 plain, where these lie, are huge heaps of 
 poor thin mountain soil, which fell to- 
 gether with those masses of rock on the 
 fatal second of September, 1806. On this 
 melancholy day, so memorable in this sweet 
 neighbourhood, a vast portion of the Mount 
 Roethan, loosened by heavy and continued 
 rains, after the short and awful menace of 
 a few falling stones, the rising of disturbed 
 and affrighted birds, a subterraneous sound 
 as of the breaking of strong roots, and the 
 rocking of dark straight pines, rushed, rapid 
 as the waters of a torrent, upon Goldau, 
 and silenced the village bells, and the poor 
 flock that knew their joyful sound, for ever. 
 More than one hundred cottages were 
 destroyed, and four hundred persons pe- 
 rished. The cheerful guide, who was ac- 
 companying the pleasure party up the 
 Righi, on that morning, started at the ter- 
 rific noise, looked back, and saw the end 
 of his little world. The Swiss soldier, in 
 his distant camp, learned that he had lost, 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 143 
 
 in one short moment, all his kindred, — all 
 the tombs of his forefathers ; that the very 
 font, in which he was christened, was a 
 broken and buried stone, and the place of 
 his nativity no more. 
 
 It is well to climb on one of the masses 
 of rock and ruin, and to gaze around you ; 
 well, as you ascend the Righi, often to 
 pause and turn the head, and look steadily 
 at this spot, brown, desolate, and unfer- 
 tile, save where, here and there, a lit- 
 tle coarse grass is mowed for fodder, — 
 mowed by some grey and widowed la- 
 bourer, who works slowly and brokenly as 
 the thought of other days comes o'er his 
 blank mind, and fills it with the painful 
 memory of all that he has long lost. 
 
 The pathway up the mountain is fine. 
 First it lies through green and sloping mea- 
 dows, then on among black pines and naked 
 hills, and falling streams. We passed 
 through the hospice^ and only saw one 
 face, that looked from one of the mountain 
 inns chilly and uninvitingly, and that 
 soured as we passed on. We slept at a 
 rude cottage auberge, considerably higher, 
 
144 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 where, as niglit now fell, we determined to 
 sleep, and to go before day-break to the 
 summit of the mountain. 
 
 Nothing could be more confused and 
 noisy than the guest-chamber ; a party of 
 scholars, most of them boys, and some 
 travelling students from Germany, filled it 
 with clamour. Tea, punch, bad food, and 
 bad wine, were noisily called for, and 
 noisily consumed amid clouds of smoke. 
 We were fortunate enouo;h to set each a 
 little chamber to ourselves. Mine was a 
 clean closet, and, though small, cool with 
 the mountain air ; a healthy and a happy 
 sleeping place. The morning brought its 
 disappointment. The guide awoke me to 
 say, that there was a heavy fog, and that 
 we should be able to see nothincr at sun- 
 rise whatever. We did not, therefore, 
 rise till it was light, and tlien proceeded 
 up towards the Coulme. We met several 
 parties descending : in one I recognized an 
 acquaintance, who gave the natural re- 
 proach for not sleeping on the Coulme, and 
 being up and out before dawn, but added 
 the frank confession, that it had been im- 
 14 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 145 
 
 possible to sec any thing from the state of 
 the atmosphere. Now did I feel in high 
 good fortune, for I saw signs of clearer 
 weather. We went on ; breakfasted lei- 
 surely in the deserted hostel ; the fog passed 
 away, and we had a full and satisfying view 
 of the Alpine chain. Moreover, we had 
 the mountain top to ourselves, to enjoy it 
 undisturbed by any of those large travelling 
 groups wdio herd at appointed hours in 
 appointed places, with guide-books open, 
 maps flying in the wind, and guides' fingers 
 pointing in every direction : this last thing 
 you cannot well avoid. The better way is 
 to submit, follow his finger, let him name 
 the heads and peaks of all the summits in 
 your sight, and get rid of him as soon and 
 as easily as you most probably will of the 
 greater part of his information. A few, 
 indeed, of the rude expressive names strike 
 finely upon the ear, and carry back the 
 mind to the rough and noble race by whom 
 they probably were first given. But a long 
 list of names perplexes, without interesting 
 the beholder. To the eye, to the mind, it 
 is the vast, the grand, the mighty moun- 
 
 L 
 
146 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 tain-crowd, — their glorious apparel, their 
 wild array, head behind head, here snowy, 
 there black, all still, — a world in them- 
 selves, — nothing to live, and play, and move 
 upon them, but the sunbeam and the 
 shadow. When, sated with this most sub- 
 lime picture of the majesty of the Creator, 
 you look below, there lies at the very 
 mountain foot the little Lake of Zug, — a 
 thino-, thus seen, of the most delicate and 
 fairy beauty ; for it is but as a small green 
 gem of the most transparent water. 
 
 The descent of the Righi, on the Kus- 
 nacht side, presents a succession of fine 
 views. About a third of the way down, we 
 met two peasant girls of Lucerne going up 
 to the chapel at the hospice, in the full 
 costume of their province. This is Switzer- 
 land ; this is costume ; nothing can, in its 
 way, be more perfect : it is better than 
 Arcadian, — the plain look pretty in it, the 
 pretty, charming. A round, flat straw hat 
 sits lightly on the very crown of the head ; 
 the glossy hair is parted across the forehead, 
 and falls in two long braids behind, inter- 
 woven and adorned with a ribbon of pink ; 
 13 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 
 a neck-kerchief, of a pretty plaid-like check, 
 is wi'apped flatly and modestly over the 
 bosom, nearly to the throat; roimd the 
 white throat is a collar of black velvet/f the 
 white sleeves of the under vest hang full 
 and loose at the shoulder, leaving bare the 
 fore arm ; a coloured corset with coloured 
 strings, a coloured apron, all rustic, and all 
 in keeping ; with a stocking of white, and a 
 shoe-tie of red ribbon, complete the picture. 
 
 What wonder that the manly Swiss drew ' 
 
 their brave bows against Gessler and his 
 mercenaries, with wives and daughters 
 looking thus ? 
 
 It is with a feeling of deep delight that 
 the traveller stands before the small and 
 still revered chapel of Tell. It is erected 
 on the very spot where he lay wait for the 
 tyrant Gessler, and first levelled an arrow 
 against the life of a fellow-creature. A group 
 of boys and peasant girls were sitting near it. 
 An old woman is the guardian of it ; and a 
 rude painting on the wall commemorates 
 Tell's history. 
 
 We walked slowly into the town. The 
 church bells were ringing, and all the in- 
 
 /.C 4-^A^^^ '' ^^ ' "^^-^ ^^' 
 
148 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 habitants hurrying there in their hohdaj 
 dresses. The men appear to have pre- 
 served little remarkable in their costume ; 
 but the women were either dressed as I 
 have described above or with caps, some 
 of white muslin, others of black crape, with 
 high fan-like crests, something like the 
 crest of Achilles ; or, to be homely, that 
 of a domestic cock. I stood in the church- 
 yard, and watched the congregation coming 
 in. There are flowers here among the 
 monumental crosses, and near most of 
 them a small metal vase of holy water. I 
 observed that almost all the passers-by 
 sprinkled water on some grave, and crossed 
 themselves, and uttered a brief prayer: near 
 the more recently erected crosses some 
 longer paused, and heaved the unavailing 
 sigh. 
 
 Among the female peasants was one 
 about sixteen years of age, with the tasteful 
 straw hat, and braids of dark brown hair 
 that hung nearly the length of her dress. 
 She was as innocently beautiful a being of 
 her happy lowly class as I ever beheld. It 
 is to be hoped that they will not send her 
 
 ^' 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 149 
 
 to sell their market produce at Lucerne. It 
 is related in that city, that a peasant girl of 
 the neighbourhood, who frequented their 
 markets some few years ago, and who, from 
 her exceeding loveliness, and that happy taste 
 which is so natural to, and so dangerous a 
 gift in the lovely, so dressed in the costume 
 of her country as to become the model of it, 
 was seen by a wealthy traveller, desired, 
 and purchased — purchased by the vilest 
 means, and in the most heartless manner — 
 purchased for one midnight hour, and sent 
 back polluted to her mountain home, with 
 the wages of dishonour for a dowry, to 
 bribe the first suitor, poor in spirit as in 
 purse, who might take the sullied lily. 
 Have not cities their stews ? Be not cities 
 the places man has made that he may dwell 
 with his darlino; sins in a fittino; atmo- 
 sphere ? But the shore of the lake, and the 
 valley of the mountain, can he not leave 
 them free? Must he bring his accursed 
 gold to them? — and if he is to play seducer 
 with a purse, will not some tainted tawdry 
 thing, inviting her ruin and welcoming cor- 
 ruption, serve his base turn? — why come to 
 L 3 
 
150 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 the mountain peasant girl ? The crime of 
 such conduct may be thought by sound 
 minds and cold judgments the same in 
 either case ; yet, I confess, to woo, to win, 
 to destroy the innocence of an ignorant, 
 and, in so far, helpless rustic, does seem to 
 me a guilt of deeper dye. How can such 
 a man climb the rocky summit, tread upon 
 the cracking glacier, cross the blue chasm 3 
 move by the precipice's side, and hang 
 over the roaring torrent ? Will they not 
 speak reproaches to him even as the voice 
 of God ? Will they not deny to him that 
 sublime pleasure which they can minister 
 to the soul of man ; and send him back from 
 their pure regions with a heart stony and 
 unmoved, with a mind unsatisfied, disap- 
 pointed, and impatient of their solitudes ?— 
 I think so, and I hope that I am not mis- 
 taken. 
 
 The inn at Kusnacht commands a most 
 delio^htful view of the lake from its win- 
 dows. As we sat at our repast, the organ 
 and the assembled voices of the peasant 
 congregation in the church near rose in 
 swelling and praiseful notes to Heaven. 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 151 
 
 The scene of the morning in my memory, 
 the figures I had met, the view from the 
 window, the frank hospitality of the people 
 of the house, the simple and grateful fare 
 before us, the resting here, and thus, will 
 cause me long to recollect the spot and the 
 moment with a feeling of unmingled gra- 
 titude for a draught of no common hap- 
 piness. 
 
 The row upon the lake from Kusnacht to 
 Lucerne is beautiful ; and there was yet day 
 enough when we reached the city for us to 
 saunter along the curious old wooden bridge, 
 and to pass round the city walls by a pleasant 
 path which leads across the meads on the 
 hill above them. In one of the most re- 
 tired of these fields we met a young Ger- 
 man student, with " horrid hair," who 
 certainly looked suspicious and guilty. We 
 thought, from many infallible indications, 
 that he was just finishing the last act of 
 some bloody tragedy, and probably giving 
 the coup de grace to his hero. We were 
 walking so provokingly slow, that he had to 
 compress the god within him for many mi- 
 nutes. In the morning we visited the 
 L 4 
 
152 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 churchy the arsenal, and examined more 
 leisurely the paintings on the bridge. There 
 is an object near Lucerne that no traveller 
 should leave the place without visiting, and 
 on which no one can gaze unmoved : — it is 
 a monument to the memory of the Swiss 
 Guards, who fell on the memorable 10th 
 of August, 1792. The design is truly noble, 
 and the execution very affecting and ex- 
 pressive. Upon the face of a rude and 
 scarped rock, in a retired spot not far from 
 the gates, a lion has been sculptured in full 
 and bold relief, and of a colossal size. The 
 shaft of a huge spear, broken short off, just 
 appears above the side ; the iron head, 
 which has given the death-wound, is buried 
 deep within. The royal beast reclines his 
 head on his fore paw, which still grasps a 
 shield (as though to guard it), with lilies 
 on its field ; another, with the cross, stands 
 near, and weapons that have been used and 
 broken in the struggle lie by its side. The 
 eye of the noble animal is not yet quite closed, 
 and the feeble growl of a fidelity, that must 
 soon cease to avail for any purpose of de- 
 fence, seems parting, only with the last 
 12 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 153 
 
 gasp of life, from the open and relaxino- 
 jaws. 
 
 In large letters above is sculptured — 
 
 HELVETIORUM FIDEI AC VIRTUTI. 
 
 The inscription beneath the monument 
 records the numbers lost, and the names 
 of the officers who fell. 
 
 It is not often that we can allow our- 
 selves to be so strongly moved over the 
 grave of mercenaries as here. But the 
 fidelity, born of honour, gratitude, and a 
 reverence for the soldier's oath, displayed 
 by these men, when the tempest of adver- 
 sity fell most heavily on their royal patrons, 
 and when the desertion of them might have 
 secured not only life but reward, nay, fu- 
 ture distinction, (and I need hardly add, 
 amid draughts of prosperity a quick obli- 
 vion of their crime,) demands the tribute 
 of honest tears, and deserves to be thus 
 recorded. 
 
 We took a boat from Lucerne to Altorf. 
 If there is any lake-scenery in Switzerland 
 which can, by any possibility, surpass this 
 
154 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 of the four cantons, I strive in vain to 
 image to myself what it can present. The 
 day was most favom'able ; for the first hour 
 or more all sunshine, and the water calm 
 and like a mirror ; then clouds and a fresher 
 breeze, winds and young waves. It was a 
 scene of rare majesty: the mountains around 
 are magnificent, and many of the cliffs are 
 scarped and inaccessible. The shadows and 
 the gleamy green ; the few black chalets, 
 and the white chapels ; the mountaineer's 
 long cry, and the tinkling bells, — who 
 shall describe these things ? None can — 
 no, not the very finest of our poets : his 
 choicest words, his finest melody of verse 
 must fail him. There are objects in such 
 scenery, and hues on them, for which lan- 
 guage has no names ; and there is a hal- 
 lowed music " i' the air," breathing over 
 all, which the mind's ear alone is formed 
 to listen to, and having listened to, does 
 for a while deem lightly of a mortal's 
 harping. 
 
 You pass a chapel dedicated to Tell, at 
 the rocky point, where, in the storm, he 
 leaped upon the shore ; and, after you land. 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 155 
 
 as you go up into Altorf, you pass the famed 
 meadow, the Ruthn. 
 
 Altorf is a town as dull, as blank, as still 
 as a convent wall. In the silent market- 
 place is a tall unsightly tow^er : it would 
 offend your eye, did not an inscription 
 remind you, that here stood the far-famed 
 tree ; here the boy leaned, the apple on his 
 young head ; here sat the tyrant Gessler ; 
 here stood the father, Tell. The shout that 
 followed on his God-guided arrow was 
 echoed back from the mountains instantly. 
 They are so close, you almost fancy the 
 outstretched arm could touch them ; as 
 you raise your eyes, they seem looking 
 down into the square. They are of uncom- 
 mon majesty. To think that man should 
 dare to play the tyrant so near them ! 
 
 The inn at Altorf is not without interest : 
 there is an old Italianised waiter, and a fine 
 old woman, who waits also, and is quite a 
 portrait. She had a black crape head- 
 dress, having the true Schweitz or Achilles 
 crest, and her grey hairs all drawn up, and 
 back from her forehead and temples, tight, 
 smooth, and cleanly. Her face was full, 
 
156 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 round, and rosy as the clean-shaved, well- 
 fed canon of a cathedral ; and, in truth, but 
 for the corset and petticoat, she did greatly 
 resemble such canons as you find a few 
 of, in all countries where there are fair 
 complexions. 
 
 Some old pictures hang upon the walls 
 here, which have found their way from 
 some plundered mansion on the other side 
 of the Alps long ago ; and you see the cut 
 melon, the clustered grapes, the broken 
 pomegranate, the wine in its flask, the thin 
 glasses, the ices, and the horn-spoons for 
 them, — just as they gave, and give, and 
 will for ever give them in Italy, the indo- 
 lent and unchanging. 
 
 We proceeded, on the following morn- 
 ing, up the valley of the Reuss. It is a 
 most grand, soul-satisfying scene. We 
 took refreshment in a true cottage-inn, 
 with panelled chamber and painted cru- 
 cifix, and on again through this grand 
 valley. There is one vast mountain, with 
 a naked rocky head, which, go on as far as 
 you may, seems ever close above you, in 
 stern repose; as though, like the unclosing 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 157 
 
 eye of the invisible Creator, it watched you 
 in your passage. The torrent of the Reuss 
 talks wildly all the way. The only part of 
 tliis valley which, fine as it is, at all dis- 
 appointed me, was the Pont du Diable : 
 the much-exaggerated account of its sub- 
 lime beauties, or terrors rather, is not at all 
 borne out by fact ; there are finer spots 
 along the vale. The rocks on the road, 
 above the Pont du Diable, have, indeed, 
 a fine, wild character. When you pass 
 through the pierced gallery in these rocks, 
 and come out upon the still, tranquil vale of 
 Andermatt, the effect is astonishing: there 
 are no trees, but there is a lovely verdure on 
 the earth. The loneliness, however, of this 
 spot is its greatest charm : the walk through 
 it is the realising a page of some old fairy 
 tale. We went forward to the village of 
 Hospital to sleep : it was already dark when 
 we arrived. In the guest-chamber we found 
 a Hanoverian officer and an English gen- 
 tleman at supper, whom we had before 
 seen at Zurich, and crossed at other points 
 of our route. My companion, who de- 
 si o-ned turn in 2 back into Switzerland from 
 
l58 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 this place, and revelling among the strange 
 beauties of the vale of Chamouny, and the 
 Mer de Glace, employed the next day in a 
 short excursion to the hospice of St. Go- 
 thard. As I designed crossing into Italy the 
 day after, I, on the morrow, hired a horse 
 and guide, and visited the glacier of the 
 Rhone. Fortunate and satisfied as I had 
 been in the society of the gentleman who 
 had lately been my companion, I quietly 
 rejoiced in my spirit as I found myself 
 riding alone up a solitary mountain path, 
 which, after quitting Hospital, is only 
 broken by a small hosjnce and a few goat- 
 herds' huts. It takes four hours to ascend 
 the Furca : it is a long sloping vale, be- 
 tween two ridges of lofty mountains, through 
 which the track lies. The Reuss, here a 
 small summer stream, at the bottom of a 
 deeper and more rugged winter bed, flows 
 past you nearly all the way. Its course is 
 slightly impeded, here and there, by rock 
 and stone ; but this gives it great life, and 
 it tumbles and babbles cheerfully down the 
 mountain vale, like a happy boy rolling and 
 making holiday on a green hill-side. In 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 159 
 
 parts, the bridle-path is very narrow, and 
 passes along the side of a hill not exactly 
 precipitous, but so steep as certainly to be 
 dangerous, although it has nowhere that 
 terrific appearance which some tourists have 
 spoken of. Still, a slip could not easily be 
 recovered, and both horse and rider mic^ht 
 fall into the stream far beneath, and be se- 
 riously injured, if not destroyed. Such 
 accidents, however, are rare, and the possi- 
 bility of their occurrence was only anxi- 
 ously suggested to my mind by the sight 
 of a party, about half a league before me, 
 consisting of two English ladies, a gentle- 
 man, and their guides. I had caught a 
 glimpse of my fair countrywomen at the 
 small inn in the morning, and heard the 
 sound of their soft voices ; and, therefore, 
 though the rules of travelling every where, 
 but more especially in Switzerland, forbid 
 either the joining or accosting others, I 
 could not help casting a thought forward 
 to them, as I watched their giddy course. 
 The Reuss is crossed twice on those fine 
 rude pass-stones, which break and give 
 such beauty to the rivulet among these 
 
160 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 Alps. On reaching the Furca, I observed 
 that their guide took them to the height on 
 the left, where thej seated themselves to 
 refresh ; I therefore passed wide of them, 
 to the right. At a certain point, command- 
 ing, it is true, a most glorious prospect, 
 and showinoj a fine bed of glacier in the 
 distance, my guide stopped me, saying, 
 that this was the spot from which travellers 
 generally viewed the glacier of the Rhone, 
 and from whence they returned. This I 
 do not believe ; for to do so would not be 
 to see the glacier, and would be, moreover, 
 to lose by far the most sublime feature of 
 that scene of wonder. 
 
 When I stood upon the edge of that vast 
 and wide bed of eternal snow, wiped my 
 hot brow beneath a scorching sun, and 
 gathered the flower of the evergreen at my 
 foot ; when I saw, at the bottom of the 
 glacier, the young brown river issuing forth 
 from cavernous mouths in a deep mass of 
 snow ; and when I looked up to that ridge, 
 which stretches from one dark mountain 
 peak to its dark fellow, and over which this 
 sea of ice must once have rolled into its 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 161 
 
 jjresent bed, I was moved with wonder, as 
 if I had seen a vision. The whole of that 
 rifted ridge seemed but one bright wall of 
 pyramid, and obelisk, and spire, builded in 
 white snow by spirits, the ministers of 
 Heaven ; a barrier none but glorified bodies, 
 light as the summer winds, might pass, 
 where nothing polluted or defiled might 
 hope to gain admittance ; a place apart 
 from our world, and the portal of a better. 
 As you tread upon the glacier, you re- 
 mark that the snow, whose kindred peaks 
 shine from above with such a dazzling 
 transparent brightness, is beneath your 
 feet, in many places, soiled and discoloured : 
 still it is snow that fell white from Heaven, 
 and shall again haste from all defilement, 
 and image back the sunbeam from blue 
 and clear reflecting waters. Ah ! thus we 
 pray and hope that it will be with the 
 human soul. No man can look upon 
 these scenes, none can tread this snow, 
 ^hich here cracks to the foot, there 
 glistens meltingly in the hot sunbeam, and 
 is here again broken by rude chasms and 
 
 M 
 
162 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 clefts, down into whose beautifully blue 
 depths you look with trembling, — none 
 can do this, and forget that he has with 
 him a second self, invisible, spiritual, im- 
 mortal. 
 
 As I walked back by the edge of the 
 glacier, I met the ladies, and the gentle- 
 man who attended them, coming along 
 the path towards the Grimsel. They dis- 
 mounted, and went a few yards on the bed 
 of the ice. After they passed on, I went 
 down to the spot, that I might have the 
 pleasure of seeing woman's foot-print in 
 such a scene. Ah 1 what woman is to 
 
 man ! 
 
 I re-ascended the Furca, pausing at 
 
 every step. What a scene it is ! From 
 
 one of the very loftiest ridges above me 
 
 I heard a shout and a laugh. I cannot tell 
 
 how very wild and fearful they sounded 
 
 in that solitude: it was only the cry of 
 
 some marmot hunters, whom the guide 
 
 well knew ; yet it shook and stirred me 
 
 strangely ; methought they were laughing 
 
 too near Heaven. 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 163 
 
 I descended towards the hospice with 
 the sinking day ; the shadows were spread- 
 ing fast and far ; tlie mountain-herds, and 
 their rude pastors, creeping to lower 
 shelter ; and, when I reached the hos^nce, 
 the capuchin was reading the vesper-service 
 to the goatherds assembled in the chapel. 
 I stood uncovered and silent at the door, 
 and listened to the well-known melancholy 
 murmur of that service. I have seldom 
 seen a people of more rude and cheerless 
 aspect ; they were poorly and coarsely clad ; 
 the very young among them looked not 
 youthful, and the old looked not as they 
 had ever known joy. I observed blear 
 eyes, and blains, and sores from cold winds, 
 and stones, and snow. Such are the moun- 
 taineers of St. Gothard. I saw not one 
 man with the light limb and the bounding 
 step we so often and so naturally associate 
 with the very word mountaineer. I went 
 into the friar's dwelling, and took a cup of 
 wine : two young peasant girls of Ander- 
 matt, relations, live with him. They formed 
 quite a contrast to the population of the 
 M 2 
 
164 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 rude hamlet, being both of them pretty, 
 one remarkably so. Lest I should uninten- 
 tionally raise a smile at the expence of the 
 poor capuchin (and I am not fond of capu- 
 chins), I think it right to add, that it was 
 evident, to the observing glance, their in- 
 tercourse was of the most innocent nature. 
 He was a man of a certain age, painfully 
 plain, and of a sad, dull, unintelligent ap- 
 pearance. I looked into his little cabin- 
 like sleeping cell, and into his small, poor 
 garden. For many months of the year the 
 inhabitants of this place are snowed in : 
 the two fine faces near him must then be 
 felt as blessings, if it were only that they 
 light up a dwelling. There is a something 
 in a fine human countenance, seen daily 
 about you in the common services of life, 
 which does greatly gild existence. 
 
 On my return to the inn at Hospital, I 
 found my companion, the Hanoverian and 
 his, who had all three been visiting the 
 hospice of St. Gothard, at supper. We in- 
 terchanged our accounts of what had struck 
 or delighted either. I here parted with 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 165 
 
 the gentleman who had accompanied me 
 for many days. It is impossible for two men 
 to travel for even so short a period to- 
 gether, and to separate, without some feel- 
 ing of regret, especially if they have stood 
 side by side, and gazed on such objects as we 
 had visited together. Our sentiments differed 
 on many points, as we soon discovered ; 
 but I must say, that I have rarely met a 
 man with whom I could so happily " agree 
 to differ." I shall long recollect, with 
 pleasure, my journey from Strasburg to 
 the St. Gothard, and my talented and 
 cheerful companion. 
 
 At early dawn I was on horseback, 
 ascending the St. Gothard, and, leaving 
 the guide in charge of the sumpter horse 
 that carried my baggage, I rode forward 
 alone. 
 
 The ascent and passage of this moun- 
 tain are inconceivably grand. The grandeur 
 of which I speak is dark, desolate, terrific ; 
 all is rock, granite rock, in rude and mighty 
 masses, not impending or threatening, but 
 lying stern and still. The hue of every 
 M 3 
 
166 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 thing is iron ; the sight and the sound of 
 water alone remind you of the mercy of 
 that Being who created the awful wilder- 
 ness around. 
 
 I overtook a boy driving a laden mule 
 alone : I talked with him awhile ; but he 
 was in the habit of crossing the mountain 
 thus, and partook its character, — was grave 
 and dull, as one habitually oppressed by 
 solitude and silence : himself and mule 
 were the only living things I passed be- 
 tween the village of Hospital and the 
 hospice. The sun did not shine : thin 
 white vapours flitted about the mountain, 
 now veiling, and now displaying to greater 
 advantage some of the loftier and ruder 
 points of those rocks which surround the 
 wild valley of the lake, at the summit of 
 the passage: now they enveloped, now 
 chilled me ; now sailed slow away, and left 
 me in clear and open air, a near gazer, and 
 close watcher of the cloud. I shouted 
 long at the hospice before I could make 
 any one hear me. A few goats were stand- 
 ing in, or straying about the yard, with 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 167 
 
 udders full, as if waiting for the milking 
 hour ; and, at last, a miserable-looking 
 herd-boy crept shivering round the gable 
 of an outhouse, and came towards me ; 
 while, almost at the same moment, the 
 keeper of the hospice slowly opened the 
 door, reproaching me for being there be- 
 fore the usual hour of the mail. The post- 
 bag, it appears, was on the solitary mule I 
 had passed with the boy, the courier himself 
 being somewhat behind it again. So much 
 for the security of the communication 
 over the St. Gothard. The keeper of this 
 wretched hospice was an old soldier, spoke 
 French, Italian, Spanish, and was not un- 
 intelligent. Such a man would hardly 
 accept this post, if there was not some 
 sure mode of making money, besides tend- 
 ing a few goats, and selling a few glasses of 
 aqua ardente. I exchanged a few words 
 with him about old times, took a cup of 
 warm milk, to which, after the camp fashion, 
 he added a glass of Cognac, from the bottle 
 reserved for first-class customers, and, 
 leaving here my horse to follow with the 
 guide, I walked forward on foot. 
 M 4 
 
168 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 There is yet another association con- 
 nected with this cold wild scene, and it is 
 one which, received into the mind as you 
 stand alone, in the midst of so many rude 
 yet sublime wonders, makes man start to 
 think of, — war has been here, up here, in 
 these high, dark solitudes. The stubborn 
 Russian and the " fiery Frank" had a 
 smart action here, during the campaign of 
 1798 or 1799 ; and this rude place of re- 
 pose for pilgrim and muleteer was taken 
 and retaken, in combats of musketry and 
 the bayonet. I know not how it is, or 
 why I should so feel it ; but uniforms, and 
 words of command, and the spitting fire of 
 regular sharp-shooters, seem quite out of 
 character with the scene. ]\Ian feels him- 
 self a pigmy in these places : horses and 
 horsemen, stretched dead on the wide 
 battle-plain ; foot-soldiers lying slain on all 
 the green knolls around ; and yagers skir- 
 mishing with their rifles among the bushes 
 and thickets, are things common and in 
 keeping with fields of warfare ; but feeble 
 creatures crawling about, round and among 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 169 
 
 these mighty fragments of the day of Chaos, 
 this stony girdle of our world, and with 
 distant and pitiful shots levelling their fel- 
 lows, and bodies lying wiall near huge 
 masses of dark stone ! — it sounds too dar- 
 ing, and human combatants, with all their 
 swelling, appear too little in such places, — 
 I mean numbered and regimented com- 
 batants, and hired legions. For the soli- 
 tary struggle of man and some one deadly 
 assailant, for such peril as knight or pil- 
 grim, as female innocent, or as hunted 
 martyr might encounter, the scene is fitted 
 by that very sublimity which makes the 
 regular operations of modern warfare sink 
 into a tame insignificance in such a theatre. 
 
 The circumstance of St. Gothard being, 
 to this day, impassable for carriages, leaves 
 it in possession of all that character of ro- 
 mance which the musing mind may have 
 been wont, from early age, to attach to a 
 passage of the Alps. 
 
 As soon as you begin to descend, all that 
 was naked and stony disappears ; it is left 
 behind ; beautiful prospects open on you j 
 
170 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 the vale, into which you are moving down, 
 is green ; there are villages and foliage ; 
 trees climb all the hills, and, on the very 
 summits, screens and patches of black fir 
 lie disposed in the most picturesque forms, 
 and contrast protectingly with the sheltered 
 pastures beneath them. The sun broke 
 out, and lighted all things. " Buon giorno,^^ 
 said a man coming up with the broad hat, 
 the round blue jacket, the blue breeches, 
 the white stockings, and the large shoe- 
 buckles of the Italian peasant. You are 
 in Italy, the very sound of the Tessino 
 would tell you so, it hurries so gladly on, 
 leaps so rejoicingly from rock to rock, and 
 whitens, and foams, and sparkles so at its 
 many beautiful falls. 
 
 The small inn at Airolo is kept by a 
 most civil landlord : the chamber where I 
 washed, the beds, the furniture, all Italian 
 in fashion ; while the countenances of two 
 females of his family more particularly 
 and more pleasingly announce Italia, the 
 sunny and the soft, the land of warm tints 
 and fine features. I travelled from hence, 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 171 
 
 by what is called the post, to BelHnzone. 
 The vehicle is indescribable ; it must have 
 stood for upwards of a century, undisturbed, 
 in some old remise, and have been lately 
 purchased by our speculating host for a 
 song, drawn forth, and advanced or de- 
 graded to the service of carrying a mail 
 and passengers. The old faded velveteen 
 linings, the heavy panels, the clumsy 
 springs, were of a date now forgotten. The 
 driver, indeed, was in keeping with it ; he 
 was a peasant in old peasant garb, and the 
 buckles must have been made, I should 
 think, about the time when the carriage 
 was built. 
 
 The whole road from Airolo to Bellin- 
 zone is delight, delight : at every turn some 
 new romantic feature, or some of a softer 
 loveliness. Fontana, Faido, and Giornorco, 
 are passed in succession. You begin with 
 pasturage. You pass down into gardens of 
 fruit, orchards, and vineyards, and on to 
 green fields, and wider meads : beauty and 
 brightness keep the traveller's heart glad, 
 and every thing looks light and cheerful. 
 
172 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 I had no companion but my driver, but he 
 was lively and companionable : we changed 
 drivers at Faido. The second was a little 
 merry fellow, who sung, or rather hummed 
 all the way admirably well, giving every 
 bar and turn. I looked, I suppose, as I 
 felt, contented. " Vi place ^ " said the 
 little man, and then on he went again like 
 a bird. " That is a Spanish air," I said ; 
 " where did you get it ?" — " Non so.^' — 
 " Give it again." — " Per ubhidir Ici;^ and 
 he sung to me to my heart's ease. At last, 
 when arrived at the end of his stage, he 
 jumped oif his seat, took a young infant 
 from the arms of a fine young woman, with 
 a pretty and smiling face, and was so fully 
 occupied in kissing and playing with it, 
 that, if I had not called him, he would have 
 suffered the relay to drive on without even 
 asking for his buona mano. He told me, 
 cheerfully, as I tipped him, that he was a 
 young married man, and this his first child ; 
 wished me a happy journey ; and there, as 
 I looked back, I saw him stand at his cot- 
 tage-door, fondling his young child, and 
 
LUGANO. 
 
 173 
 
 chatting with its pretty mother. Well, 
 there certainly is a great deal of happiness 
 in'the world, that tyranny and misgovern- 
 ment, by God's blessing, never reach: here, 
 however, in these peaceable times, they 
 boast of freedom ; for this is a canton of 
 Switzerland. The view of Bellinzone, with 
 the three castellated hills that rise above 
 the city, from whence walls descend to her 
 three gates, giving her the power of shut- 
 ting and guarding the valley on every side, 
 is very noble and striking. 
 
 According to my plan, I went forward to 
 Lugano. I got a room at the alhergo, com- 
 manding so delightful a prospect, I was so 
 captivatedwiththe small lake,andeven in the 
 town itself theaspectofsomanythings struck 
 and pleased me, that I lingered there three 
 days. The inhabitants of Lugano are said 
 to be industrious, and the silk of this place 
 is in high repute. But, in truth, the people 
 do not look very industrious, and as almost 
 all trades ply their work either in the open 
 air or in such open shops as the passing eye 
 may gaze in upon, I should call them indo- 
 
174 LUGANO. 
 
 lent. Although a small town, I never saw any 
 other (save Naples) where they seem so 
 studiously to spare themselves the trouble 
 of keeping house, and preparing food in 
 their families. The town is full of cooks' 
 shops, whence all are content to be sup- 
 plied : a way of life that begets a disregard 
 of comfort, but, at the same time, gives a 
 kind of cheerful carelessness. To the pass- 
 ing observer, society, in this state, (how- 
 ever he may regret that things are so,) gives 
 a certain pleasure ; for he sees it well, and 
 near, and fully. If we stand for hours near 
 a glass bee-hive, with a pleased interest 
 and lively curiosity, how much higher the 
 gratification, in despite of the pain it brings 
 with it, to stand among our fellow-men, 
 our proper study, and to see how they live, 
 and move, and have their being. Lugano 
 is Swiss, and free by its constitution ; but 
 Lugano is enslaved by habits, by climate 
 and beauty, oil and wine, and, above 
 all, by the spirit of her religion. The 
 place is overstocked with convents and 
 churches, — and the tinkle of the small bell 
 
LUGANO. 175 
 
 is perpetual. The view over the lake, from 
 the terrace before the mother-church, is 
 enchanting ; and for views, generally, turn 
 where you will at Lugano, they are lovely. 
 The hours I passed upon the lake were 
 such as on a lake gliding in a boat may be 
 passed in any land, in summer seasons, 
 where lakes are to be found. But, as 
 Lugano is not much visited, I name it, as- 
 suring any, who may follow in my track, 
 that the form and features of it, and its 
 romantic shores, merit a wider fame than 
 the vicinity of the larger lakes, and the re- 
 ports of travellers have allowed to it. I 
 took boat on the day of my departure to 
 the small village of Porlezza, at the head 
 of the lake ; hence I crossed to that of 
 Como on foot. In the small cottage albergo 
 of Porlezza, where I refreshed before I 
 started, they gave me bread whiter than 
 milk, excellent wine, and abundance of 
 luscious figs and grapes : of these I made 
 the boatmen partake, as also a ragged boy 
 that had worked his short passage over at 
 an oar. In a country where nature boun- 
 tifully provides such luxuries, and where 
 
176 coMo. 
 
 the poor, amid their rags and poverty, do 
 yet so often partake of them, it is sur- 
 prising to see, at the chance occasion, the 
 easy courtesy of their manner with those to 
 whom, at other times, they are so slavishly 
 deferential. They take, and eat thankfully 
 and cheerfully, and seem to feel a sort of 
 pride that the traveller should so like and 
 praise the produce of their country. It is 
 about six miles from Porlezza to Cade- 
 nobbio : a guide carried my valise. 
 
 The elevated vale, through which the 
 road lies, is beautiful. When the traveller 
 arrives by the winding footpath, along 
 which he is conducted on the height above 
 Cadenobbio,and looks down upon the bosom 
 of the lake of Como, he will assuredly send 
 forward his guide, and throw himself on the 
 ground, and long refuse to be hurried, even 
 by himself, from such a feast of the soul ! 
 The glorious river-like form of this lake ; 
 the mountain shores towards the head, 
 round which it sweeps, as a broad majestic 
 river would ; the towns, the villages, the 
 little ba^'s and inlets on its smiling shores; 
 the beautiful division of its two arms im- 
 
coMo. 177 
 
 mediately beneath you ; the glittering water, 
 and the white sails that play upon it, fill 
 full the gaze, and make the heart heave 
 quick. When I descended, I saw the land- 
 lord of the inn coming to meet me. He 
 talked English a little, and 1 found had 
 begun life as one of those itinerant venders 
 of prints, maps, weather and spy glasses ; 
 who shiver through a few English winters 
 for the sake of a purse, that may enable 
 them to sit down under the shadow of their 
 own vines, in this delightful region for the 
 rest of life. There was little romantic 
 in the appearance, or manner, or talk of 
 my good host, but it was evident that his 
 local attachments were strong, and the 
 beauties of his native country dear in his 
 estimation. 1 found his house clean, his 
 fare good, and his charges reasonable ; and 
 had all three been the reverse, the pros- 
 pect from my chamber-window would have 
 abundantly consoled me. 
 
 I took a boat in the morning to Como, 
 visiting the show villas, and loitering for 
 some time in the cool and shady villa 
 
 N 
 
178 coMo, 
 
 Pliniana, concerning which so much has 
 been written. 
 
 On my arrival at Como I immediately 
 took a charabanc^ and crossed by a most 
 romantic and beautiftd road to Lecco, a 
 small town, situated at the head of the se- 
 cond branch of the lake. The following 
 day was the market at Lecco, and the place 
 was filled with peasant figures of the true 
 Italian stamp, affording numberless studies 
 to the painter. From hence I took a car- 
 riage to Bergamo, a large and busy city. 
 The great fair was just over, and from my 
 own observation, and the enquiries I made, 
 I should think a person desirous of studying 
 Italian character would do well to make 
 a point of visiting Bergamo during the fair. 
 This lasts for three weeks, is always very 
 numerously attended, and exhibits a great 
 variety of character among the peasants of 
 different provinces who frequent it, — pea- 
 sants who preserve unalterably the dress 
 and the cu stoms of their fathers. Moreover, 
 Bergamo is the true birth-place of Har- 
 lequin. We have all, I suppose, liked 
 
BERGAMO. 179 
 
 Harlequin in our day, have most of us 
 lauMied ourselves into innocent merriment 
 at Mother Goose, and still remember with 
 wonder that rolling head of Bologna's which 
 scarce seemed a part of the man, and Gri- 
 maldi, of memory immortal in the annals of 
 drollery. I saw here, in Bergamo, a man, 
 a Falstaff, or rather, not the fat man of a 
 play, but of a pantomime. He was the 
 keeper (as should be) of a cook's shop. 
 His paunch, literally, appeared to move 
 before him. The fall from his breast to his 
 stomach was so made that you might have 
 opened and spread a huge tavern ledger 
 upon it, and there it would have lain as 
 safe bedded as on a church eagle; — his 
 face shone, and his jowls were dewlaps ; — 
 a white nightcap and apron he wore, and 
 I should have deemed him a mask dressed 
 for a harlequinade, if I had not stood for a 
 minute of wonder close to him. I have 
 observed of Italy, that land of handsome 
 features, that her ugly, deformed, or cor- 
 pulent men, are monstrosities. What noses 
 you sometimes meet with in Italy, — like 
 the nodes of a cork-tree in shape, and 
 N 2 
 
180 BRESCIA. 
 
 stained with all hues of purple and the mul- 
 berry ! 
 
 I went to Brescia the following morning 
 in company with an Italian priest, a man of 
 wood. The road lies through a rich and 
 fertile vale. Brescia is a city of some in- 
 terest to the passing gazer. The walk 
 round the walls is pleasant, and the pros- 
 pects from them on all sides fair, on that 
 of the Alps fine. The view from the castle 
 over the glorious plain of Lombardy is one 
 to seat yourself on the broken wall and 
 thoroughly enjoy. The plain is wooded as 
 though it were a forest, and yet you know 
 it to be a watered garden. I saw a party of 
 young men here near the ramparts playing 
 at the ballone, and all the slope above them 
 was covered with spectators and crowned 
 with idle groups of Austrian soldiers. The 
 players wore frilled shirts of the finest tex- 
 ture, ruffles also, and coloured ribbons dis- 
 posed ornamentally on their sleeves and at 
 the drawer knees. The whole scene was a 
 picture, and greatly enlivened by the in- 
 terest which the spectators take in it : they 
 shout, and laugh, and exult, as skill or 
 
LAKE OF GARDA. 181 
 
 awkwardness affect them. It is painful to 
 an Englishman to contemplate the groups 
 of Italian gentlemen who lounge away long 
 hours upon the chairs under the awnings of 
 the many cafes close to the theatre. They 
 sip ices, they hum, they babble quick about 
 play or small news ; they are well enough 
 dressed, well enough looking; but their very 
 air tells you plainly that the higher in- 
 terests of life neither attract or stir them : 
 they are content to exist, to be, and to be — 
 nothing. 
 
 I took a carriage to a small town on the 
 lake of Garda, and here I hired a boat to 
 Riva. The boatman asked me something 
 enormous. I said, " My dear fellow, I have 
 not time at present to go through the re- 
 gular comedy of bargain-making, therefore 
 here is what I will give you," naming less 
 than half their demand. The men looked 
 surprised, now at me now at each other, 
 but closed with my offer. I went to a cafe 
 to take a cup of coffee while they were get- 
 ting ready ; a respectable looking serjeant 
 of gens-d'armerie came in, and bowing to 
 me, said that I had made a fair bargain, and 
 N 3 
 
182 LAKE OF GARDA, 
 
 he never saw the trouble so usual in making 
 one so easily got rid of. He related the 
 circumstances to those in the cafe, who 
 laughed heartily at the expression about the 
 comedy, and gave me credit for thoroughly 
 understanding this class of their country- 
 men. The boatmen proved hard-working, 
 honest, cheerful fellows, and kissed my 
 hand cordially at parting, because I threw 
 in a trifle more for a long laborious row 
 after the wind fell. I gave a poor peasant 
 woman of Roveredo a passage, and for a 
 small bit of silver got white bread and fruit 
 enough for the whole party. The basket of 
 fruit was quite a picture, as we all agreed. 
 These poor Italians have a quick perception 
 of beauty ; a quality of the mind which cer- 
 tainly gives great delight to the possessor, 
 but which, like all earthly blessings, is coun- 
 terbalanced by strange heart-achings, and a 
 very painful corrosive canker in moments 
 of privation, disappointment, and blank 
 melancholy. 
 
 The sail up this lake into the very bosom 
 of the mountains is at once lovely and 
 grand. The chamber of the inn at Riva 
 
LAKE OF GARDA. 183 
 
 looks out upon the lake, and commands a 
 noble view of the magnificent and rocky 
 heights which rise from its borders. 
 
 About three years ago a huge fragment of 
 the mountain just above Riva fell, destroy- 
 ing, and literally sweeping into the lake 
 two cottages. The warning, though but 
 momentary,was yet sufficient topreservethe 
 inhabitants, who fled out naked in the night, 
 and saved their lives : — such price is some- 
 times, and not unfrequently, paid for dwell- 
 ing amid the romantic scenery of the 
 Alps. A bill at these inns is often diverting, 
 when they charge the articles separately, as 
 they did to me here. A bottle of fine wine, 
 really good and well flavoured, was put 
 down about sixpence ; a tough, uneatable 
 morsel o^ arrosto about two shillino-s : such 
 proportion bears the luxury to the neces- 
 sary in their estimation. I was too de- 
 lighted with the room, the scene, and the 
 wine, to object to paying eight times the 
 value of the scrap of burnt veal they styled 
 arrosto. 
 
 The scenery between Riva and Roveredo 
 is exceedingly wild, and the road is very 
 N 4 
 
184 ROVEREDO. 
 
 lonely. Roveredo is rather a busy-looking 
 place, and their principal trade is in silk. All 
 this country brings back to the mind the 
 early and most honourable triumphs of Bo- 
 naparte : here he laid the foundation of his 
 fame and fortune. I remember that the 
 first picture I ever saw of Napoleon repre- 
 sented him in a general's uniform, at full 
 length, with the subscription : 
 
 Cui laurus eternos honores 
 Italico peperit triumpho. 
 
 A truth which few, even of his enemies, 
 have disputed, if the reference of it be 
 limited to his exploits as a general. The 
 violence done to property in that war must 
 not all be chargeable to his memory, though, 
 as he was the commander of an army, which 
 he was left by the jealousy of the French 
 government to clothe, pay, and feed as he 
 could, of course the sufferers affixed their 
 curse on him. It is related that as Bo- 
 naparte was one evening conversing cour- 
 teously with an Italian lady, she took some 
 flower or trifle from his hand playfully : 
 " Gli TtcfJiani" said the General, smiling. 
 
TRENT. 185 
 
 '^ sono tutti LadroHiJ" — " Non tutti, inai 
 buonaj)cirte,'\N£LS her ready and severe retort. 
 Nevertheless, in the north of Italy, his name 
 is often accompanied by a benediction. It 
 has been said of him, " There was great- 
 ness in the General, greatness in the Con- 
 sul : the Emperor was only mighty." 
 
 The bronze medallion of him as First 
 Consul, struck only for private distribution 
 after the battle of Marengo, as a work of 
 art, and as a beautiful expressive head, ex- 
 ceeds any modern medallion that I ever 
 beheld. 
 
 The route from Roveredo to Trent is 
 narrowly walled in, and is hot, dusty, and 
 very provoking ; for you can see nothing, 
 although you feel that if the walls were 
 beat down, there would be continual pros- 
 pects of beauty. 
 
 Trent is very prettily situated : it is a 
 city of the Tyrol, but I like not to call it 
 by that nobler name: it is Italian, true 
 Italian ; moreover, was the seat of the 
 famous Council that puzzled and plagued 
 the world for so many years. 
 
186 TRENT. 
 
 There is a picture of this assembly in 
 the church where the Council was held, 
 on a small scale, and faded ; but you may 
 trace all the costumes distinctly enough — 
 cardinals, bishops, abbots, monks, and 
 doctors, seated in dull array. How these 
 four or five hundred luxurious gentlemen 
 were fed, was an idle fancy or speculation 
 that I could not get out of my silly head, 
 all the time of my stay in this old city. 
 What a market it must have had ! what 
 cooks ! what convoys of sleek mules, laden 
 with luxuries ! and how, in their distant 
 and regretted residences, all the old house- 
 keepers of these perplexed and provoked 
 absentees must have busied themselves in 
 the preparations of savouries and potted 
 meats, dried fruits, and delicate conserves, 
 and in the regular and never-failing dis- 
 patch of supplies from the well-stocked 
 cellars. Trent is, in itself, an abominably 
 stupid place ; but Fancy, reverting to the 
 period of which I speak, soon peoples it 
 with portraits of a vast and amusing va- 
 riety. 
 
TRENT. 187 
 
 Not a chamber of the hotel where I 
 lodged but some crowned head, or prin- 
 cess, had slept in it : their arms, and the 
 dates of their visits, were over the doors. 
 If, therefore, the traveller feels discontent 
 with room or bed, he has the consolation of 
 knowing that the lords of palaces fared 
 no better at Trent, in this respect, than 
 himself. 
 
 As I left very early in the morning for 
 Bautzen, my bill was brought, and, I con- 
 jecture, prepared by the waiter. Every 
 thing was charged double : this I observed, 
 to the vexation, no doubt, but certainly 
 not to the confusion, of the man ; for he 
 received the half with the most spaniel- 
 like demeanour, just like the celebrated 
 black-leg, who scored with notched chalk ; 
 and, on being told by his pigeon, of whom 
 lie had, doubtless, won thousands, " Why, 
 you have just marked two instead of one," 
 replied, " Have I? then I will rub one 
 out again." JNIy com.panion in the car- 
 riage to Bautzen was a priest of the country, 
 altogether an Italian, in look, manner, and 
 language — nothing of the Tyrolese about 
 
188 THE TYROL. 
 
 him. The road is beautiful and romantic ; 
 the villages which you pass on the early 
 part of the route bear marks of frequent 
 suffering and devastation ; and the effects 
 of the memorable campaigns of 1796, 1797, 
 are distinctly visible to this day. It is not 
 until he approaches Bautzen that I consider 
 the traveller fairly in the Tyrol. This city 
 is situated on the rapid Eisach, and moun- 
 tains of great majesty environ it. Here 
 German is the language of the people ; 
 German is their aspect : here the varieties 
 of costume, which have, for centuries, 
 marked and distinguished the inhabitants 
 of the different valleys in this famous 
 country, first press upon his attention. 
 Some of the women here wear a head-dress, 
 certainly not very becoming. It is a coni- 
 cal cap, of very fine dressed wool, either 
 of a white or black colour : it looks like 
 the softest fur or down, is expensive, and 
 an article they take great pride in ; but to 
 the travelled eye it has a very strange ap- 
 pearance, and seems a more fitting head- 
 gear for some Tartar chief, galloping on his 
 native steppes, than for the peasant woman 
 
THE TYROL. 189 
 
 of these mountain vales. Others, how- 
 ever, of the women wear a black hat, small 
 and round, the crown high, and nearly 
 conical, and their long hair is rolled up 
 behind into a glossy knot, and just shown 
 under it. Others wear broad green hats, 
 either of beaver, or covered with green 
 silk, and bands of broad ribbon, of the 
 like colour, tasselled or fringed with gilt 
 thread. Some plait their hair in two long 
 braids, others bind it about the head. 
 Their corsets, their aprons, their petti- 
 coats, their stockings, are of various colours, 
 rustic and coarse, but producing an effect 
 most pleasing and picturesque. The men 
 are magnificent alike in costume and ap- 
 pearance : they are remarkable for their 
 fine make, and the open fearless expression 
 of their countenances. They wear hats, 
 some broad, some narrow, some of green 
 beaver, some of black, with green ribbons, 
 or bands of black velvet, and jackets of 
 brown, green, or black, worked with lace, 
 and adorned, at the sleeve and waist, by 
 frogs of red or coloured cloth. Their waist- 
 coats are commonly red, and all the Ty- 
 
190 THE TYROL. 
 
 rolese wear very broad green braces out- 
 side the waistcoat, as also broad belts of 
 black leather round the middle, on which 
 are usually worked the initial letters of the 
 owner's name. Many of them show the 
 knee bare, wearing only a half- stocking 
 from the calf of the leg to the small, and 
 put a light shoe, with a long quarter, on 
 the naked foot. 
 
 I met groups of these noble-looking 
 peasants on the walks and in the streets, 
 and I saw a large assembly of them in the 
 cathedrak I went into a burial-ground 
 adjoining, where many of both sexes were 
 scattered among the graves, kneeling and 
 praying, some evidently with a very deep 
 and devout abstraction of manner. Near 
 each monumental cross is a little vessel of 
 holy water, as in Switzerland : there was 
 also a large bonehouse, with skulls placed 
 in the manner before described, and la- 
 belled. I observed a young female pray- 
 ing sadly before it. All the persons in the 
 ground were bare-headed ; all was solemn 
 and silent ; and when I looked up and be- 
 yond the narrow bounds of this cemetery, 
 
/:/-A^^^wu- 
 
 THE TYROL. 191 
 
 my lifted eye encountered, on every side, 
 mountains in their brown repose. 
 
 I passed the evening at the table dliote. 
 We were waited on at table by maid- 
 servants ; but Bautzen being a considerable 
 town, and the inn a large one, the traveller 
 does not yet see the true kellerin of the 
 Tyrol. The table was full : opposite me 
 sat a tall, well-dressed man, looking rather 
 genteel than gentleman-like, whom, from his 
 conversation (for he was in plain clothes), 
 I soon discovered to be an officer in the 
 Austrian army : he was a native of Trieste. 
 He afforded me some amusement, by say- 
 ing that he greatly desired a war with 
 England, as it would give him pleasure 
 to fight against the English nation, they 
 were so proud. I immediately asked him 
 where he had formed that opinion of them, 
 and what he knew of them ? He said that 
 he had been embarked, on one occasion, 
 with some troops, on board an English 
 line-of-battle ship, in the Adriatic, and 
 complained sadly of his treatment. By a 
 little cross-examination, I found that he 
 had been a young lieutenant at the time, 
 
192 THE TYROL. 
 
 and thrown principally among the midship- 
 men ; that he was sea-sick and wretched, 
 and, of course, easily and often irritated. 
 I told him, that he must not exactly judge 
 of English men from English boys, or of 
 England from a vessel's crew ; that our 
 youth went to sea at a very early age, and 
 were early taught to hold the skill and 
 prowess of all enemies inferior to their own ; 
 that their rude and manly education on a 
 boisterous element, and this ever-present 
 persuasion, begat in them that spirit of en- 
 terprise and daring, which had obtained for 
 our navy the renown it long had, and, I 
 hoped and believed, long would enjoy ; that 
 I should be sorry to see them alter, but 
 that he would find the manners of our 
 country, and even of our camps, somewhat 
 different ; that if Fate ever should oppose 
 him to British soldiers, he would not be 
 disappointed of advers^ff-ies, alike worthy 
 and proud to claim kindred with British 
 sailors ; and that as I concluded the ob^ 
 ject of his desire was the natural and noble 
 ambition to encounter gallant enemies, the 
 day might yet come, and the wish he had 
 
THE TYROL. 193 
 
 here expressed be remembered. I shall 
 never forget the smile that passed across 
 the broad and bronzed face of a stout Ba- 
 varian officer, or the gratified look he gave 
 me, and all that it seemed to express. This 
 man looked worthy to head a squadron of 
 heavy horse, and such a one as would not 
 turn back in the melee. It would not have 
 done in that place to have touched on the 
 relations in which Bavaria had stood to 
 France ; but I doubt not this Bavarian had 
 served with the French army, and had, per- 
 haps, been opposed, at some period of the 
 long war, to the British. The Austrian, 
 who felt that he had volunteered playing 
 " bavard,^' looked silly, and acknowledging 
 that he was not altogether in a state to 
 form a correct judgment of any thing while 
 at sea, sunk into silence, and soon became 
 as civil as he had shown inclination to be 
 rude. 
 
 I journeyed from Bautzen to Brixen, in 
 company with a Bavarian merchant, and 
 his son, a fine school-boy. The road has 
 all those features of romantic beauty which 
 the traveller expects to find, and cannot 
 
'/-^t^z ^ /^/.^^^-^s^ 
 
 194 THE TYROL. 
 
 describe. At a cottage inn on a hill, about 
 midway, we stopped for a quarter of an 
 ' hour. There, seated at a table before the 
 door, we took wine and fruit, and the eye 
 wandered over scenery such as the soul 
 loves. A dusty wayfaring man sat down by 
 our side, and took a tankard of beer. The 
 tankard was of fine, clear, thick, heavy glass, 
 with a bright metal top. Throughout Ger- 
 many in general, especially in Austria, they 
 have abundance of excellent glass, and the 
 luxury of fine large well-shaped tumblers 
 and wine-glasses is common. 
 
 Brixen is a city beautifully situated, 
 ''(:'<■ among mountains, at the junction of the 
 rivers Rienz and Eisach. It has a cathe- 
 dral, a palace, and many good houses : the 
 style and fronts are Italian. The inn was 
 not very comfortable, and exceedingly 
 crowded. I met a German gentleman at 
 supper, who had just returned from a 
 ramble in the lateral vallies of the Tyrol. 
 He was full of delight, had been present at 
 some of their fairs and festivities, had been 
 welcomed and made at home by them, and 
 was enthusiastic in his praises of them. I 
 
THE TYROL. 195 
 
 never met a foreigner who spoke English 
 with such a happy fluency, or such a tho- 
 rough understanding of our tongue. He 
 spoke of acquaintances at Oxford and Cam- 
 bridge, one of whom was personally known 
 to me, and the name of another most fa- 
 miliar, as an accomplished scholar. He 
 appeared to have seen every thing in Lon- 
 don that traveller could see, and, with the 
 strong and permitted curiosity of an active 
 mind, had not omitted to dive into the cel- 
 lars of St, Giles's, or to visit the booths of 
 St. Bartholomew. He toid me that these 
 lateral vallies could not be visited without 
 a thorough knowledge, not merely of com- 
 mon German, but of those familiar phrases, 
 and that low language, of cheerful festivity, 
 which these liveliest of German peasants 
 take delight in. He pressed me to accom- 
 pany him to Munich, but I had previously 
 decided not to enter Bavaria farther than 
 was necessary for traversing a part of that 
 country on my road from Inspruck to 
 Vienna. 
 
 When I awoke in the morning I found 
 the large inn deserted, and myself left to 
 o 2 
 
196 THE TYROL, 
 
 dress, and walk about the long old room 
 adjoining my bed-chamber in stillness and 
 alone. This room was hung with old paint- 
 ings, none good, but none without interest. 
 The old German painters seem to me to 
 have been fond of such subjects as admitted 
 the introduction of thrones and gorgeous 
 dresses, cloths of gold, brocades, jewelled 
 turbans, and costly caparisons, with rich 
 embossings. When such things hang faded 
 on a wall before you, as Queen Esther be- 
 fore Ahasuerus, as Belshazzar at his Feast, 
 Naaman in his Chariot, and such like sub- 
 jects, you cannot choose but think. 
 
 After breakfast I procured an old dusty 
 caleche, with a capital horse and a rustic 
 driver, to Stertzingen. Beautiful is the 
 drive, and the small town of Stertzingen, 
 for cleanliness and brightness, and an aspect 
 all its own, delights but defies description. 
 Shame to me that I have lost the note with 
 the name of its none-such inn. Though I 
 am never likely to forget the house, yet 
 cannot I tell any one who may ramble after 
 me whether it be a Rose, or a Crown, or a 
 Goldnen Lion that hangs dangling before it. 
 
THE TYROL. 197 
 
 Here was an elderly landlady, a pattern of 
 kind hospitality and motherly propriety, 
 two fair daughters, clean and modest, and 
 a stout and trusty kellerin, with black pet- 
 ticoat of ample folds, and keys enough, in 
 number and size, for the warder of a castle. 
 Her guardianship, however, is not over 
 turrets and dungeons, but over closets and 
 cellars, wines and meats, fruits and pre- 
 serves, and all household comforts. There 
 is no feature about the inns of the Tyrol 
 more remarkable than the kellerin : she is 
 a personage of the first importance ; she 
 makes all charges, and receives all pay- 
 ments ; for which purpose she wears a 
 large leathern pocket, or purse, which, like 
 the tradesman's till, is emptied each even- 
 ing. She is intrusted with all the house- 
 hold stores ; she brings each traveller his 
 meal, and blesses it ; she brings him his 
 wine-cup, and it is yet the custom, with all 
 old Tyrolers, that she should, at least, put 
 her lips to it. She is always addressed with 
 kindness ; " Mein kind;' " My child," is 
 the common phrase ; and it is varied, in 
 warmth and tenderness, according to ac- 
 o 3 
 
198 THE TYROL. 
 
 cidental circumstances. It is sometimes 
 endearing, as " Meiii schones kind,^^ " Mj 
 pretty child ;" " ikfem Jierz,'' " My heart ; 
 " Mein scliatz,^' " My treasure." In gene- 
 ral, however, although I have seen some of 
 great beauty, the kellerin is a stout, coarse, 
 active woman, with a frank readiness of 
 service in her manner, and a plain pride of 
 station, — the pride of being trust-worthy. 
 
 It may be supposed that these phrases 
 are not always used, without some light- 
 ness, by youthful travellers ; yet is there a 
 manner of employing them without any 
 impropriety, and the very utterance is a 
 pleasure, they beget so much kindliness 
 and good humour. 
 
 I was shown into a room that would have 
 satisfied the cleanliest of Quakers ; and the 
 first objects my eyes rested on were some 
 English prints, not very common ones, — 
 a series, with the pictured and affecting 
 story of Lady Jane Grey, and one other, 
 the Tomb of fair Fidele, and, beneath, 
 the lines, 
 
 " To fair Fidele's grassy tomb," &c. &c. 
 
THE TYROL. 199 
 
 Now, certainly, we do not travel abroad to 
 see English prints, yet did I heartily bless 
 the chance that brought them there, was 
 happy in their sweet company, and con- 
 fident that many a solitary English tra- 
 veller had felt the like throb of a thankful 
 heart, as he sat down in this little chamber, 
 the welcomed tenant of a day. There was 
 a little garden, and flowers in it, before the 
 window. It was a place to do nothing quick 
 in ; the washing, the dressing, the repast, 
 all slowly lingered over, and the eyes ever 
 straying to the sweet figure and face of 
 Lady Jane Grey, and then on to " Fair 
 Fidele's grassy tomb," the lip and voice 
 each time engaged, just as we hum over and 
 over the bars of some old and well-loved 
 air. 
 
 In the evening, as I sat thinking after 
 supper, I heard voices as in prayer ; and, 
 looking out of my chamber into the large 
 irregular-shaped hall, I saw a party of pea- 
 sants assembled on their knees, before a 
 large wooden crucifix, and performing their 
 evening devotions. In the Tyrol, if the 
 house is considered a good one, and the 
 o 4 
 
/ 
 
 ^00 THE TYROL. 
 
 people worthy and devout, the peasants 
 and muleteersj who lodge in the outhouses 
 and stables, do always use the hall, or 
 guest-chamber, as a chapel, imagining that 
 they confer and receive a blessing by so 
 doing. 
 
 Stertzingen was the scene of one of the 
 greatest triumphs of the Tyrolese over 
 their invaders, in 1809. In the immediate 
 neighbourhood of the town there is a 
 marshy flat, on the hills near which they 
 most judiciously contrived an ambuscade 
 for the Bavarian cavalry, and completely 
 defeated them. There is so much of the 
 pride and pomp of a regular army about a 
 body of well-mounted and well-appointed 
 horse, that the picture of such a descrip- 
 tion of force defeated, destroyed, or led 
 captive by mountain peasants, in the rude 
 and picturesque garb in which they toil 
 and hunt, does awaken in the fancy a very 
 lively delight, and give an honest pleasure 
 to the heart ; as honest, at least, as we may 
 ever be permitted to take in warfare. It 
 was a bright and memorable feature in 
 the rising of the Tyrolese, that no acts of 
 
/{^-^ftc^- . ^f^t-' 
 
 THE TYROL. 201 
 
 wanton or capricious cruelty, no acts of 
 savage or vindictive barbarity, stained the 
 character of their cause. The only per- 
 sons who were roughly or severely treated 
 were such of their own countrymen as they 
 suspected of treachery ; but, towards the 
 French and Bavarians, especially the latter, 
 when defeated and captured, no violence 
 was shown beyond that necessary to secure 
 them as prisoners. How glorious do things 
 like these tell ! — A man for a leader, of 
 whom a nation should say, " The word of 
 Hofer is enough for us ;" '^ Wliat Hofer 
 says we will believe ;" " What Hofer bids 
 we will do ;" and this a lowly man, honest, 
 brave, compassionate, and devout. There 
 is scarce an instance in history of a man 
 with so little ability effecting so much by 
 the mere weight of personal character. The 
 general and the politician closeted in 
 Vienna made this noble peasant their tool ; 
 and, in fact, it was in all the trouble 
 and intrigue at the close that this plain, 
 unsuspecting, credulous, and faithful man 
 was shipwrecked ; and (eternal disgrace to 
 the French !) was taken, tried by a military 
 
202 THE TYROL. 
 
 commission, found guilty of being bold, 
 and good, and true, and put to death. Such 
 deaths, indeed, are hallowed, yet are they 
 heart-breaking to hear of and think about. 
 The print of Andrea Hofer is, of course, 
 every where : he is represented in a brown 
 jacket, red waistcoat, broad green braces, 
 and the letters A. H., the simple distinction 
 on his body-belt, when he sold and bought 
 cattle in the fairs, figures there, to tell the 
 name, and, in the name, the rank of that 
 most glorious, because most merciful, of 
 patriot leaders, who thus walked among his 
 fellow-countrymen, as a simple one of 
 them, at the time that he commanded, 
 and ostensibly directed, all the energies of 
 Tyrol against the Bavarian and the French 
 armies. 
 
 If any of my young readers should desire 
 to peruse an animated and beautiful sketch 
 of this mountain war, let them turn to the 
 " Edinburgh Historical Annual Register" 
 for 1809 or 1810. I have not seen the chap- 
 ter that treats of it for sixteen years. I 
 read it in Portugal, but the glow of it does 
 in remembrance warm me still. 
 
,/c^^^^^--' 
 
 ^. 
 
 THE TYROL. 203 
 
 The road between Stertzlngen and Ins- 
 pruck traverses for many miles the lofty 
 Brenner. Near the summit is a small house 
 of call ; and here I saw a perfect picture of 
 the mountain kellerin, with black and 
 glossy hair, a brown cheek, a bright eye, 
 and teeth of a dazzling whiteness. At Stei- 
 nach, where I dined, was another of coarse 
 aspect, but kind and gentle in her service. 
 These women, to the eye of any traveller 
 who has a something of the painter's per- 
 ceptions and of the poet's feelings, form a 
 very interesting feature, and they might be 
 woven into the tale of the novelist with 
 strong effect. 
 
 Inspruck, the capital of the Tyrol, lies in 
 a valley watered by the Inn, and imme- 
 diately at the foot of a mountain ridge 
 which rises above it like a mighty wall in 
 barren and precipitous magnificence. You 
 pass the Schonberg and descend to it by a 
 winding road that presents, at every turn, 
 a prospect of some striking and picturesque 
 beauty. I arrived late in the evening, and 
 and was put into a large chamber, where 
 by portraits, arms, inscriptions, &c., I found 
 
204 THE TYROL. 
 
 many crowned heads and noble persons had 
 at various tunes been lodged. I requested 
 and obtained with difficulty on the morrow 
 a smaller one. The inn-keeper here, who 
 is a jolly old man, and was once courier to 
 the duke of Cumberland, is fond of making 
 kings of such travelling Englishmen as are 
 gratified by the folly, while for the amuse- 
 ment of his German guests he can sing, 
 with the most comic effect, 
 
 " The ducks and the geese they do swim over." 
 
 I encored him in it, and wished Mat- 
 thews at table to fix the man and his man- 
 ner for wider amusement. I was made ex- 
 ceedingly comfortable at this hotel, and 
 dined every day during my stay with a 
 small party of superior officers and private 
 gentlemen, whose manners and conversation 
 were most pleasing, and where, contrary to 
 the usual custom, the host did not appear at 
 table. It was at a supper the night before 
 I went away that I heard the old man sing, 
 and that he showed me all the medals of 
 Hofer. 
 
THE TYROL. 205 
 
 The first thing which 1 visited in Ins- 
 pruck, and the object which I could not 
 tire of gazing on after repeated visits, is the 
 grand cenotaph in the church of the Fran- 
 ciscans, to the memory of Maximilian the 
 Emperor. 
 
 The mausoleum itself would require, if I 
 attempted it at all, a very minute descrip- 
 tion, and of a nature that would be tedious 
 to the reader, without conveying the gene- 
 ral effect to his mind. It is raised on three 
 steps of veined marble, on the highest of 
 which there is a finely executed bordering 
 in bronze of arms and trophies. In bronze, 
 Maximilian, robed as an emperor, kneels 
 suppliant on his tomb; on the sides, in 
 tablets of white Carrara marble, each of 
 which is two feet wide by one and a half in 
 height, are represented, in bas relief, the 
 most remarkable actions of his life. The 
 sculpture is exquisite, and all the scenes 
 are represented with a fidelity at once mi- 
 nute and animated. But the charm and the 
 masic of this monument arise from the re- 
 markable circumstance of its beino; sur- 
 rounded by a stern and silent company of 
 
206 THE TYROL. 
 
 colossal statues * in bronze. The figures are 
 male and female, persons of renown and 
 royal birth : many of the house of Austria 
 and in the ancestral line of Maximilianj and 
 others, to the stranger's eye, of a deeper 
 and more attaching interest. There is 
 " Gottfiied von Bouillon^ Konig v. Irusalem,^^ 
 in armour, with the cross on his breast- 
 plate, and the crown of thorns upon his cap 
 of steel. There is Theodoric, king of the 
 Goths : Clovis of France : Philip the Good, 
 and Charles the Bold ; and it is with a 
 start of delight that the Englishman reads 
 on the pedestal of that one whose port and 
 bearing are allowedly the most knightly 
 and the most royal, — 
 
 ARTUR, KONIG 
 V. ENGLAND. 
 
 You ask not why he is here ; — you gaze 
 upon his coronetted helm with the worship 
 of one who had lived his subject; you 
 
 * That is, somewhat larger than life. 
 
THE TYROL. 207 
 
 mount the pedestal and raise his barred 
 vizor, and look upon the still features ; you 
 grasp his gauntletted hand, and touch his 
 sword — 
 
 (The " massy blade 
 Of magic temper'd metal made,") 
 
 with a fancy that you are daring too far, 
 and down again in reverence to the paved 
 aisle. 
 
 I hngered among these forms at a se- 
 cond visit till it was dusk. Albrechts and 
 Rodolphs were frowning on me in fearful 
 armour. Queens and princesses standing 
 solemn in large draperies of bronze, and I 
 happily pacing or pausing among them with 
 a created and indulged terror ; and ever as 
 I came near " Artiir, Konig von England,'"' 
 the harp of Warton sounded in my ear, as 
 it was wont to do, when as a boy it was my 
 pastime to recite his line " Ode on the 
 Grave of King Arthur." 
 
 In this same church lie the remains of 
 Hofer under a plain stone, simply inscribed 
 with his name. They were disinterred and 
 
208 THE TYROL. 
 
 brought from Mantua by order of the Em- 
 peror of Austria, that they might be ho- 
 noured with a pubhc funeral in the capital 
 of Tyrol. They were received by the 
 faithful Tyrolese with transport, and fol- 
 lowed to the place of their present rest by 
 the public authorities, the military, and 
 crowds of the peasantry, who flocked down 
 from all their mountains to grace the glo- 
 rious procession. A costly monument is 
 to be erected to the memory of this great 
 peasant. I saw the design, and thought it 
 cumbrous. The tomb of such a man cannot 
 be too plain. A block of granite on a 
 mountain's top were enough ; and I would 
 have it on a mountain hitherto pathless : 
 then would every footstep of the way be a 
 trace of, and a tribute to, his fame. 
 
 The man who served me during my stay 
 at Inspruck had been at Mantua when 
 Hofer was put to death, and saw him shot. 
 He was an Italian of the regular indolent 
 domestique de place character, roused, as he 
 described it, by the running past of an idle 
 crowd, and the cries that a man was to be 
 
^y^'"/ 
 
 c^^e/- 
 
 THE TYROL. 209 
 
 shot: some designating him as the great 
 robber, some the mountaineer with the 
 long beard, some the traitor, some the 
 rebel. He told me that Hofer walked pale 
 and praying, but very firmly ; that he gave 
 his watch, just before the fatal moment, into 
 the hands of a bystander, as a legacy to his 
 family, and died easily : — a better head 
 and a worse heart, and Hofer would not 
 thus have died. A Tyrolese gentleman 
 told me that during a great part of the 
 time of that insurrection, Hofer was very 
 unhappy, by finding himself involved in the 
 administering of so many affairs, of which 
 he knew nothing. His great adviser was a 
 priest, and among his minor advisers 
 another, who, it is whispered, finally be- 
 trayed him. Even Hofer could not escape 
 the charge of injustice, nor perhaps the 
 real though unintentional commission of it. 
 To a person who appeared before him on 
 behalf of a friend who had been taken up 
 and put into prison, his reply was, " Your 
 friend cannot be a good man or without 
 fault in this matter, or he would not be in 
 prison :" but it is fair to add, the counsellor 
 
210 THE TYROL. 
 
 priest was at his elbow ; for it does not sound 
 like the character of a man, who, long be- 
 fore the insurrection, was continually ap- 
 pealed to by his countrymen as a just ar- 
 bitrator, as one who would hear both sides, 
 say what in his conscience he thought, and 
 from whose decision they cared not to 
 I appeal. The fate that lifts a man into a 
 situation of high responsibihty may bring 
 him fame, and high renown, and lasting 
 gratitude, but it will deny him peace till 
 he finds it in the silent grave. 
 
 The convent of the Capuchins in this city 
 contains a cell, whither the great Maxi- 
 milian was wont to retire at certain seasons 
 for the purposes of devotion, and where he 
 performed the strict penances so common 
 to the age in which he lived. The rude ar- 
 ticles of furniture in this cell and a wooden 
 inkstand are said to have been the work of 
 the monarch's own hand. Even the seclu- 
 sion of the penitent is found insupportable 
 without some occupation that may exercise 
 the body, and divert the mind from the 
 oppressive weight of thought. The cell of 
 a royal penitent does always more deeply 
 
THE TYROL. 211 
 
 interest us. Here it is that we find them 
 men, poor men hke ourselves, seeking rest 
 for their hearts: — a rest which the cell 
 and the stripe, the vigil and the fast, can 
 never give. 
 
 The walks about the city are on all sides 
 beautiful and interesting, for the valley is 
 of the greenest, and the loftiest mountains 
 rise close above it. There were several 
 companies of Tyrolese jagers stationed in 
 this city. They appeared fine young men, 
 brown ly ruddy, erect and soldierlike, but 
 certainly much disfigured by a most unbe- 
 coming uniform. The jacket and trowsers 
 are of a dull dirty grey, the hat round, like 
 that worn by our marines, and like that 
 looped up on one side, but the brim of it 
 is narrow and scanty, and the whole dress 
 has a paltry and unmartial appearance. 
 I must except the officers and Serjeants, 
 whose hats are overshadowed by large black 
 plumes, falling, like those on the Scottish 
 bonnet, with a severe and frowning grace. 
 In general the rustic gains in personal ap- 
 pearance by exchanging the garb of a 
 labourer for the uniform of a soldier ; but 
 p 2 
 
212 THE TYROL. 
 
 the peasant of Tyrol sacrifices all that 
 in costume is calculated to display the 
 form. The fine calf of his well-made leg is 
 hidden under loose trowsers, his manly 
 neck confined by a leathern stock, and the 
 very rifle in his hand, if you couple with it 
 his black cross-belts, looks less warlike than 
 the weapon he has been wont to bear, 
 when, with a broad cartouch-belt girt 
 around his waist, he leapt lightly on the 
 hunter's paths among his native mountains, 
 or stood steady in his aim opposite the 
 prize-target in the vale, sure to hit the 
 bull's eye, and place it in pride above his 
 cottage door. 
 
 It was pleasant to me, as I walked the 
 streets here, and in many cities throughout 
 the Austrian dominions, to be saluted, as 
 I frequently was, by the soldiers. The of- 
 ficers of the Austrian army almost in- 
 variably wear plain clothes in their home 
 garrisons, except on the parade or on any 
 duty, a circumstance which may account 
 for this. Often, however, this compliment 
 was paid to me by soldiers who evidently 
 recognised me for an Englishman and an 
 
THE TYROL. 213 
 
 officer, although no part of my dress as to 
 make or colour announced my profession. 
 The circumstance gave me a very natural 
 pleasure. I was glad to see the army of my 
 country so widely respected, proud to be- 
 long to it, and glad to feel that the bivouac 
 had left its mark on me. Military life is a 
 strange, an unnatural life, but full of in- 
 cident and excitation. The man who has 
 passed the brightest and best years of 
 his existence in the army is in general ill 
 adapted to fall down quietly into a still 
 place in private life, especially in England, 
 where, happily for our glorious constitution, 
 however mortifying to the individual, an 
 officer is not much considered at any time. 
 It is too often forgotten by John Bull, 
 that, at that very period of life, when the 
 members of most other professions are 
 reaping a something into the garner for 
 the winter of their days, his officers who 
 have served him and upheld his name all 
 through the spring and summer of their 
 existence, have given him their youth, 
 and health, and strength, and perhaps have 
 
 p a 
 
214 THE TYROL. 
 
 cast down their little all of money on 
 the promotion lottery-table, have no har- 
 vest to look to, not even the gleaning of 
 a field ; that most of them are fit only, 
 " like rusty swords and helmets, to hang up 
 i* the armory," but without the hope that 
 " new wars could new burnish them again." 
 This feeling, among retired military men, 
 acting upon old habits and early associations, 
 produces what has been caWed de?noralisation, 
 a very long word which has been in every 
 body's mouth since the fall of Napoleon, 
 and the dispersion of his vast army ; a word 
 which does simply mean, I take it, that 
 undefined aching of the old soldier's heart 
 after the melancholy pleasures (for they 
 still are pleasures) of campaigning. Yet 
 the active spring of gladness which gave 
 quick motion to that heart in youth, and 
 in its first fields, may never again be hoped 
 for, and might not, nay, assuredly would 
 not, in like scenes be found. This demo- 
 ralisation, as it is called, is but the missing 
 of accustomed things, and the longing for 
 them. The atmosphere of affection in 
 
THE TYROL. 215 
 
 which you moved, rude and rough as it 
 may have been ; the old soldiers with whose 
 good or bad qualities you were as familiar 
 as with their brown faces ; the young whom 
 you encouraged ; the very rascals who were 
 as thorns in your flesh, whom you ruled 
 with rigour, or reclaimed with judgment, — 
 all the little favours of which an officer is 
 the dispensing patron, — the very trump 
 and the drum will be regretted, — the 
 music of the march and the music at the 
 meal ; and as for friendship, take an old 
 soldier's word for it, in the common re- 
 lations of man to man, the title of brother 
 officers may stand high. If this be, as I sus- 
 pect it is, demoralisation, why, then, I fear it 
 will be found an inhabitant in the bosom of 
 many a soldier in retirement, who, though 
 he may have chosen earlier from wisdom, 
 what must sooner or later have been his 
 fate, does not feel his weaning the less. 
 
 I engaged a place in a carriage returning 
 to Vienna, for the chance of companion- 
 ship ; but I took care to bargain for a halt 
 of three days at Saltzburg. My travelling 
 p 4 
 
216 THE TYROL. 
 
 companions were a parish priest, and a 
 student of Padua, both natives of German 
 Tyrol, and both enthusiasts in their love of 
 their native country. The priest spoke 
 French with tolerable fluency, and could 
 read English a little; the student under- 
 stood French, but could not converse in 
 that language : both, however, spoke Italian 
 freely, so that we made out famously. I 
 liked them both : the priest, to my regret, 
 quitted us at Saltzburg. I shall long recol- 
 lect this worthy pastor with affectionate 
 respect : his polite attentions, his cheerful- 
 ness, his kindness, his exhaustless store of 
 interesting talk, his tolerant notions, his 
 Christian feeling, and an occasional tinge 
 of melancholy, that would chase for a few 
 minutes, and a few minutes only, his cus- 
 tomary animation, impressed me deeply. 
 " Gratias a Dio*^ was a phrase often on 
 his lip, not uttered coldly or cantingly, but 
 with a rub of the hand, and a sparkle of the 
 eye that told you it was ever in his heart : 
 he gave it to the sunshine and the shade ; 
 to the beautiful prospect and the running 
 
THE TYROL. 217 
 
 river ; to the pleasant rest and the pleasant 
 meal, and the cool chamber. I could have 
 journeyed with such a man all the world 
 over ; he ordered all our meals, made all 
 payments, gave content to every one, and 
 host, hostesses, and kellerin, if they did 
 not smile when they first saw him, were 
 sure to part from him with that sort of 
 kindly smiling regret which is so pleasing, 
 and so flattering to the traveller, where he 
 can believe it to be sincere. 
 
 My companions sung for me, again and 
 again, the Evening Hymn of the Tyrolese j 
 peasants, beginning, ^^ Der liebenfeuerstimde i 
 schleckt ;"" " The loved hour of repose is 
 striking," or, as our English bard has it, 
 " The curfew tolls the knell of parting 
 day." 
 
 The burden of this song, or hymn, as 
 they brokenly and imperfectly rendered it 
 for me, is beautiful, the ideas poetical, and 
 the lesson, — Content. Even thus pro- 
 saically given, the reader will admit its 
 beauty : — 
 
218 THE TYROL. 
 
 " The loved hour of repose is striking ; 
 let us come to the sun-set tree ; let us lie 
 down in the pleasant shade. Oh ! how- 
 sweet is rest after labour! How I pity 
 those who lie all day on the couch of down, 
 and are fatigued with doing nothing ! They 
 know not the sweetness of rest like ours : 
 sweet is this hour of repose, and sweet is- 
 the repose of the Sabbath day ; but sweeter 
 will be the repose of that long Sabbath, 
 when we all rest from our labours, in the 
 presence of our Heavenly Father ! There 
 will be no sun to burn us ; there will be no 
 toil, no pain, no poverty, no sorrow, no sin, 
 but sweet and long will be our rest in 
 heaven." 
 
 Relying upon the assurance of these 
 good friends that I should procure both 
 the words and air at Vienna, and upon 
 my own memory to enquire for them, I 
 neglected to take them down at the time, 
 and have since repeatedly searched for them 
 in music shops, but in vain. The air is 
 uncommonly simple, and I doubt whether 
 even in Vienna, where, amid new objects, 
 
THE TYROL. 219 
 
 I forgot it altogether, I could have pro- 
 cured the same unadorned melody which 
 the peasants sing, each evening, at the sun- 
 set tree. I was more pleased with it every 
 time I hstened ; it is devotional, and, sung 
 from and with the heart, by men who rise 
 early to labour, and late take rest, is an 
 evening sacrifice, accepted, surely, at the 
 gates of heaven. 
 
 The Tyrolese, according to their light 
 and persuasion, have a great reverence for 
 Divine things. This was eminently shown 
 during their insurrection (or war, I will 
 call it) ; for the mild character of the 
 Christian religion, as taught by their simple 
 parochial clergy, subdued in them those 
 vindictive feelings, or, at least, the cruel 
 acting of them against the prisoner and 
 the captive. 
 
 I observed that my good priest often 
 rose suddenly, almost immediately after 
 our meals, and paced up and down the 
 room in a hurried nervous manner; then 
 he would pause, and seat himself again at 
 table, and apologise to me for so doing : 
 
220 THE TYROL. 
 
 but he told me, as an excuse, and a mourn- 
 ful one it sounded, that often, when at 
 his home, he made his solitary meal walk- 
 ing about the room ; for that living quite 
 alone, he had not, as I can well under- 
 stand, at all times the heart to sit down to 
 a table. He taught me a few German 
 words, and pledged himself to make a Ger- 
 man of me in three months, if I would 
 come up to his mountain, and study. His 
 parish, he told me, was situated about five 
 leagues from Saltzburg, and consisted of 
 five hundred souls, of the very poorest 
 class, few of whom could read or write, 
 and not one among the whole com- 
 panionable for him : neither were any of 
 his clerical brothers sufficiently near for 
 social intercourse. He represented the 
 manners of his flock as extremely simple, 
 their moral conduct excellent, their igno- 
 rance that of children, their obedience that 
 of children. He took occasion, from this 
 statement, to start the subject of our Bible 
 Societies, and to condemn the distribution 
 of the Holy Scriptures among the common 
 
THE TYROL. 221 
 
 people, asking me many questions con- 
 cerning our societies in England esta- 
 blished for that purpose. We had a long 
 and interesting conversation, and, of course, 
 all the old arguments were soon gone over. 
 I most successfully used the argumentum ad 
 hominem in this instance; for compelling him 
 to acknowledge the light, the life, the hope, 
 the peace, the consolation that he found in the 
 possession and daily use of that inestimable 
 treasure himself; as also, that if the child 
 of the peasant were instructed, at a tender 
 age, in the common rudiments of plain 
 learning, his capabilities are like those of 
 a child in any other class, and that he 
 might acquire the power of reading the 
 Gospel for himself, and, by the assist- 
 ance of God's Holy Spirit, make a believ- 
 ing application of it to the wants of his 
 own heart, at all times and seasons, — I 
 drove him into that intrenched corner, 
 where, as a Roman Catholic priest, he was, 
 perhaps, compelled to take refuge, — " that 
 the mother-church is the sole guardian 
 and the only true interpreter of God's 
 word, and that ignorance would corrupt 
 
222 THE TYROL. 
 
 it, and wrest it to its own destruction." 
 Thus it is that spiritual bondage is per- 
 petuated from generation to generation. 
 I pressed him a little upon the strict and 
 severe government of his church, especially 
 of that species of discipline which watched 
 over and controlled all, even the minutest 
 actions of domestic life ; I saw that his 
 mind was with me. I spoke to him of the 
 enforced celibacy of the priesthood, and I 
 got fairly into his heart ; for he said, with 
 sad eyes and a melancholy warmth, that it 
 was the institution of man, and certainly 
 not the appointment of God. He asked 
 me to read for him a chapter of Isaiah, from 
 an English pocket Bible. I did. He ex- 
 pressed himself delighted and moved with 
 the rich majesty of our language, and said 
 the Latin version seemed poor compared 
 to it ; so I told him was the Greek con- 
 sidered to be by our best scholars ; and it 
 was generally allowed that the English 
 translation was alive and warm with the 
 very spirit and power of the Hebrew. 
 
 I dwell upon this chance-companion at 
 some length, and with delight, because, 
 
THE TYROL. 223 
 
 although it is by no means true of any na- 
 tion, " ex uno disce otnnes,'^ yet the infer- 
 ences to be drawn concerning a people, 
 by intercourse with individuals of different 
 classes, ages, and professions, however 
 short that intercourse may be, are not to 
 be lightly regarded. One painful subject, 
 connected with English policy, this worthy 
 man, and many others of intelligence 
 whom I occasionally met, questioned me 
 upon, with a kind of wonder, — the state 
 of Ireland. Who can explain it to the 
 satisfaction of a clear head and an honest 
 heart ? When all is told that is known, 
 or can be thought of, to extenuate, and 
 only to extenuate, our blundering legis- 
 lation for that unhappy country, still the 
 question recurs, are these things to be 
 for ever so? is this crying evil to endure 
 for ever ? — and the Englishman can only 
 answer by hanging down his head, in sor- 
 row and in shame. 
 
 I believe that if the Irish Roman Ca- 
 tholics had been emancipated twenty years 
 ago, thousands and thousands of them 
 would now be of the Protestant persuasion ; 
 
224 SALTZBURG. 
 
 that the whole nation would have pro- 
 gressed rapidly towards spiritual liberty, in 
 the light of the distributed Word, long ere 
 this ; but the language held by the mis- 
 taken zealots of a cause, which, after all, 
 perhaps, the mass of thinking Englishmen 
 have more warmly at heart than they, has, 
 as it seems to me, more than once alarmed 
 not only the timid and intolerant Church 
 of England men, but its good and con- 
 scientious members, and has disturbed, if 
 not for a time destroyed, the hopes of every 
 lover of civil and religious freedom. 
 
 But I am forgetting the Unter Inthal, 
 through which we travelled, and which is 
 of uncommon beauty. The Inn is ever 
 near you, the prospects varied and ro- 
 mantic, and you pass occasionally the green 
 yet rocky mouth of some happy valley, 
 that is the world of its rustic population. 
 
 The entrance to Saltzburg is very strik- 
 ing ; it is by a noble gateway, cut through 
 the rock, under which you drive for nearly 
 one hvmdred yards. " Te saxa loquuntur" 
 is the appropriate inscription ; and the 
 bust of the Prince-Bishop, who executed 
 
SALTZBURG. 225 
 
 the work, is above. It was fair- time, and 
 the streets were full of women, with a 
 strange-shaped cap of gilded tissue. The 
 appearance of it is remarkably contrasted 
 with the plainness of all the rest of their 
 dress, and, as it is not very tasteful or be- 
 coming, it is, doubtless, some dear remnant 
 of ancient costume, clung to by successive 
 generations, who, from childhood, fix their 
 eyes with a fascinated gaze on the glit- 
 tering thing it will one day be their privi- 
 lege to wear. Saltzburg is a fine city, that 
 is, the situation is very fine. It has a 
 handsome square, a lofty and commanding 
 citadel5 some fine churches, a famous ce- 
 metery, many handsome houses, and two 
 country palaces in the immediate suburbs ; 
 but the uncommon grandeur of the scenery 
 around this city fixes the admiration of 
 every beholder. It is Alpine, and just at 
 the proper distance for giving outlines the 
 most bold, and every light and shade that 
 alternate mountain and defile can present. 
 The views from the citadel, which is large 
 and empty, and about the lonely chambers 
 of which it is a pleasure to be led, are very 
 Q 
 
226 SALTZBURG. 
 
 fine ; that from the summit of Monchs- 
 berg magnificent. The apartment is shown 
 you where one of the former Prmce-Bishops 
 was confined for ^ve years, by order of the 
 Pope, because he had brought a scandal 
 on the episcopal character, by wedding 
 privately a fair Gabrielle, whose statue, re- 
 cumbent, executed in a coarse and spotted 
 marble, you may see at the pleasure-chateau 
 of Helbrunn, where there is a pretty park, 
 stocked with deer, a natural amphitheatre 
 of rock, and a garden childishly laid out, 
 and full of silly tricks and toys. 
 
 There is a remarkably fine riding-house 
 in Saltzburg, the manege of which, in its 
 day, was very famous. It is now used by 
 a regiment of Hungarian hussars. I walked 
 through their stables ; there appeared to 
 me a great want of order and cleanliness ; 
 but I was struck with the paintings in the 
 winter riding-school, where all the repre- 
 sented practice, both of horse and swords- 
 manship, is pictured by stricken and be- 
 headed Turks. The figure of the Turk 
 yet remains as the target, the butt, or 
 fancied opponent of the Christian cavalier. 
 
SALTZBURG. 227 
 
 The summer riding-school is spacious, 
 open, and backed by a scarped rock, in 
 which are cut galleries for the numerous 
 and noble spectators, who were wont, in 
 former times, to assist at these exhibitions. 
 A statue of Bucephalus rears at the water- 
 ing fountain, and horses are pictured in a 
 rude painting behind, in every variety of 
 playful and skittish action. Certainly the 
 bishops of Saltzburgwere of the church mili- 
 tant, in the lowest sense of that word, and 
 should have worn helmets instead of mitres. 
 About nine miles from Saltzburg are 
 the famous salt-works of Hallein. It is a 
 beautiful drive, and a most rewarding sight ; 
 to me, moreover, it was a new thing, for a 
 mine I had never seen. I took an early 
 dinner in the town of Hallein, at a very 
 comfortable hotel, where I was well and 
 cheerfully served. At a table in the same 
 rooni sat two gentlemen, of middle age, 
 one of whom, a pale clever-looking man 
 with bad health and bright eyes, soon fell 
 into conversation with me. While it was 
 general, all was well ; but as soon as he 
 found, on questioning me, that I was come 
 
 Q 2 
 
228 SALTZBURG. 
 
 to visit the mine, be broke away on his 
 hobby, and left me at a wondering, but not 
 an envying distance. He recommended to 
 me the perusal of two quarto volumes, in 
 which these salt-works were most parti- 
 cularly described, and some other volumes 
 of lihe dimension, on his favourite study. 
 He politely expressed his regret that he 
 could not have the pleasure of accompany- 
 ing me that evening, and I saw he would 
 not unwillingly have done so. When he 
 took his departure, the steel hammer at 
 the head of his walking-stick announced to 
 me that he was that most formidable of 
 enthusiasts, — an enthusiastic geologist; — a 
 travelling nobleman, as my host informed 
 me, and very learned. Although his man- 
 ners were most pleasing, I was heartily 
 glad to be left alone with my ignorance. 
 The language of geology is one apart, as 
 hard as granite, but not quite as durable ; 
 for I am told the terms are continually 
 changing. To have taken my first lesson 
 in that study in a mine would, doubtless, 
 have been a great advantage ; but I freely 
 confess that the last thing I wanted to 
 
SALTZBURG. 229 
 
 listen to in the bowels of the earth was a 
 lecture on geology, as diffuse as this worthy 
 philosopher would probably have given me. 
 I ascended the mountain behind Hallein, 
 by a beautiful and easy path, amid scenery 
 of a most peculiar and enchanting cha- 
 racter. There is the black pine, as in 
 Switzerland, and there is grass and pasture 
 intermingled with the forest patches, as in 
 that country ; but yet they are differently 
 disposed, and the verdure of the sward is 
 of that beautiful depth which, I have been 
 told, is so remarkable during their brief 
 summer in Norway. As far as imagination 
 has ever pictured to me Norwegian scenery, 
 that of the mountain above Hallein must 
 greatly resemble it. — Near the summit of 
 the mountain you find a small church and 
 a few dwellings, and, not very distant, in 
 the face of a small cliff, is the entrance into 
 the mine. You are taken into a small 
 room ; a light coarse dress (as of a miner), 
 which entirely covers your own, is given 
 to you ; one stout glove, as worn and 
 polished as the groove of a pulley, for 
 holding the ropes as you descend the 
 Q 3 
 
230 SALTZBURG. 
 
 shafts ; a lighted candle is put into your 
 hand, and, with a miner before you who 
 does not talk, and a domestique de place 
 who will if you let him, you enter the rock, 
 Man is the rabbit here : innumerable long 
 passages pierce the mountain in every 
 direction : they are, for the most part, 
 strongly lined and roofed with rough tim- 
 ber ; but the swelling and pregnant earth 
 does, here and there, force a way, and, be- 
 tween the gaping ribs and rafters, you see 
 the rock-salt, with its veins, of a deep or 
 bright colour : the grey and red predomi- 
 nate, but, occasionally, it has a fine yellow 
 tinge, or is variegated with a dark blue. 
 The descents, although some of them are 
 considerable, are none formidable, or even 
 difficult : you lie down on an inclined plank, 
 between two smoothly-rounded spars ; a 
 rope, which is made fast, both above and 
 below, is held lightly in the hand, and you 
 descend with the greatest possible ease. 
 If you lie too far back, the motion is slow 
 and hesitating ; if you lean too far forwards, 
 you may, and probably will, pitch upon 
 your head ; but if you hit the happy me- 
 
SALTZBURG. 231 
 
 diiim, " the cord flies swiftly through your 
 glowing hand," and, quick as lightning, 
 you are fathoms down below. There are 
 two-and-thirty reservoirs at Hallein ; the 
 principal one will long be remembered by 
 the visitor. Emerging from a narrow gal- 
 lery in the rock, I came suddenly upon the 
 edge of a small lake. A faint and lurid 
 light gleamed upon the surface of it ; some 
 human figures, indistinctly seen as to forms 
 or faces, further than that all were pale, 
 stood and moved on the bank opposite. I 
 entered a small bark with my guide, and 
 was ferried over it. All that I had ever 
 read of the heathen hell — of the hell that 
 poets feign — rushed to my imagination, and 
 my blood ran chill with an awful delight. 
 The rock above is blackness and darkness, 
 and glistens slimy and damp as the grave. 
 The rock around is so thrown into shadow, 
 as to look cavernous and sepulchral. The 
 water is stagnant and sluggish, without a 
 voice, without a smile : all is severe, all 
 sad; it seems a gulf between life and 
 death, or, rather, between the grave and 
 hell. 
 
 Q 4 
 
232 SALTZBURG, 
 
 I lingered long here fascinated as by 
 some unearthly power ; I passed and re- 
 passed the gloomy water ; I walked on the 
 rocky bank there where it lay in deepest 
 shadow ; and from the sixth book of the 
 ^neid I peopled the melancholy region. 
 Nor did I forget that great gulf, which the 
 Word of Truth has told us is fixed be- 
 tween those that have served God and 
 those that have served Satan. All may 
 read that book of the ^neid with deep 
 profit to their souls ' beyond the solemn 
 pleasure which it must afford the ima- 
 gination, 
 
 *' That angry justice form'd a dreadful hell, 
 That ghosts in subterraneous regions dwell, 
 That hateful Styx his muddy current rolls. 
 And Charon ferries o'er embodied souls. 
 Are now as tales or idle fables priz'd, 
 By children question'd, and by men despis'd, 
 Yet this do thou believe !" 
 
 Such children and such men may find 
 that in all ages it has been easy to wound 
 the conscience and convict human beings 
 of sin ; and he may learn that to heal the 
 wounded conscience was beyond the power 
 
SALTZBURG. 233 
 
 of the wisest teachers of mankind till the 
 soft voice of the Gospel-message was de- 
 livered. 
 
 " Lightning and thunder (Heaven's artillery) 
 As harbingers before th' Almighty fly : 
 Those but proclaim his style, and disappear, 
 The stiller sound succeeds, and God is there !" 
 
 Small as the first faint raj of mercy 
 dawning on the darkened soul is the gleam 
 of light, which, from a black chamber in 
 the bosom of the mine, is visible at the ex- 
 tremity of a gallery, that seems intermin- 
 able. You take a seat with your guide on 
 a kind of wooden horse on wheels, and are 
 dragged with great rapidity for eight hun- 
 dred yards along a narrow passage in the 
 rock, not without an apprehension that you 
 may be bruised against the sides of it, and, 
 at length, emerge in safety at the bottom 
 of the mountain, on the opposite side, and 
 find yourself in a scene of wood and grass, 
 lighted by the sun, and still, but the still- 
 ness of life. You hail it, your flesh and 
 your heart leap to the vivifying influence, 
 
234 SALTZBURG. 
 
 and you lie down upon earth's green lap, as 
 on that of a mother. 
 
 I returned home to Saltzburg delighted : 
 I had seen, as I have said, a new thing. I 
 well know that I ought to have been dis-^ 
 appointed. You see at Hallein no cham- 
 bers of the rock in crystal, no grottoes, no 
 chapels, no dwellings, no families begotten, 
 born, and reared, where the sun never shone. 
 The reservoir or lake of which I have spoken 
 is said, when fully illuminated, as it is occa- 
 sionally, out of compliment to royal visitors, 
 or conquerors of renown, to present a su- 
 perb spectacle. The few feeble torches 
 which they placed around it for me, and 
 which just served to make darkness visible, 
 I should, even by choice, have preferred. 
 
 I could not help smiling to myself as I 
 drove home to think of my escape from the 
 man of science, and his equal good fortune ; 
 for I should certainly have either run rudely 
 from him in the labyrinthine passages of 
 the mine, or have been silent, or inatten- 
 tive, or worse for him, put him behind me 
 on my broomstick, and carried him away 
 
SALTZBURG. 
 
 235 
 
 into the regions of the air, leaving his ham- 
 mer and some glorious specimen crystal- 
 lized in cubes far behind us. 
 
 The day following I made an excursion 
 to the lake of Berchtolsgaden. It is about 
 ten miles from Saltzburg, and in a direc- 
 tion which would admit of its being easily 
 visited on the same day as Hallein, if the 
 traveller started at an early hour, and made 
 his arrangements accordingly. The road is 
 for a considerable distance the same, but 
 where it turns away winds through a nar- 
 row and most picturesque valley watered by 
 the Achen, on and above which the town 
 is built, having, as it should, for the travel- 
 ler's sake, a convent and a castle. I passed 
 it in going, on the other side of the stream, 
 and drove through it on my return. 
 
 I alighted near a fisher's hut on the 
 banks of the lake. At the well known 
 call, out came a smiling family of brothers 
 and sisters to man the bark : one of the 
 sisters nearly woman, one of the brothers 
 nearly man, all good-looking and cheerful, 
 making a pastime of their light labour. It 
 is a two-hours' row to the head of the lake, 
 
236 SALTZBURG. 
 
 where stands a solitary old hunting lodge 
 belonging to the King of Bavaria. This 
 lake may, for its size, vie with the very 
 finest part of the lake of the four Cantons 
 in Switzerland. The mountain that rises 
 to the south of it is very lofty, inaccessible, 
 and of the sternest aspect ; the face of it is 
 roughly scarped, all of bare stony rock rifted 
 and jagged. To look down into the clear 
 and placid lake and see this majestic alp 
 reflected there, and to watch how the 
 gentlest ripple gave it such play and waver, 
 as a garment floating in the air, was won- 
 derful. It is not solid, then, this glorious 
 earth, — a bright shadow only, a thing that 
 shall be wrapped up and changed as a 
 vesture. 
 
 About three miles from the landino- 
 place, at the foot of this naked mountain, 
 is a natural curiosity, called the Chapel of 
 Ice. I walked there by a wild path through 
 a wood, and among stumps overgrown with 
 moss, which led out upon the stony bed of 
 a winter torrent : up this, for there is little 
 water in it in summer, you pass, and see 
 before you, at the foot of the mountain, a 
 
SALTZBURG. 237 
 
 very small glacier. From its situation it is 
 much sheltered from the sun, and the snow- 
 lying supported by the two sides of a small 
 ravine, through which a stream continually 
 flows, that hollow is formed which has given 
 rise to its name. I left my guide at the 
 mouth, and proceeded up it alone. There 
 is no kind of hazard or difficulty : you have 
 to scramble and slip over the huge stones 
 which have been worn round and smooth 
 by the torrent, and water drops on you 
 from the snowy roof. One chasm in that 
 roof lets in the blue sky and the sunbeam, 
 and lights up the very inmost recess of this 
 rude and chilly oratory. Undine alone 
 could perform a vigil in it with comfort. I 
 walked out upon the crackling surface of the 
 snow, and again descended beneath it to feel 
 and enjoy the thing ; to listen to the running 
 water, and the slow and mournful droppings 
 from the glistening roof Proud temples 
 of stone and marble shall crumble and be 
 overthrown, while in this the hermit, or 
 the hunter, or the lone traveller shall 
 breathe his unuttered prayer, for centuries 
 to come, in peace. War, tumult, rapacity. 
 
238 SALTZBURG, 
 
 persecution, never reach a spot like this : — 
 happy the king that has so lone a hut to 
 run to, and discrown himself, as the hunt- 
 ing lodge of Berchtolsgaden. They gave 
 me there a plain and delicious repast of 
 fresh fish and some excellent wine. I sat 
 in the quiet chamber and rude chair 
 where the (late) King of Bavaria was wont to 
 take his homely meals, and talk of the 
 sports he loved with plain men, who liked 
 them as much as himself. It was delightful 
 to hear the people at this place speak of the 
 King, and not only they but the commonest 
 rustics of Berchtolsgaden. Not long after 
 this very day I heard of the sudden death 
 of this excellent man while at Vienna. For 
 that evening, however, I enjoyed for him 
 the dream of a longer life, and of repeated 
 visits to his fishino; cottage. 
 
 The return across the lake was still more 
 delightful than the passage of the morning. 
 The sisters and their brothers sang as they 
 plied their oars. I landed at one or two 
 fine points, and at last reluctantly came on 
 shore, and was driven most rapidly home. 
 
 There is a comfortable inn at Saltzburg. 
 
SALTZBURG. 239 
 
 I got a most excellent room, and was well 
 served. I should think it a delightful place 
 to pass a month at as head-quarters, and 
 make excursions among the mountains. 
 
 I observed at table a young man rather 
 of the dandy cast, red and white, and who 
 spoke French always, but with a bad and 
 affected pronunciation, and a wretched 
 choice of expressions. I learned that he 
 was a prince, and a captain in the regiment 
 of Austrian infantry stationed in the city. 
 I must remark, in passing, that in the 
 Austrian army the considered, or, as we 
 familiarly term them, crack regiments of 
 \ foot, rank before and much higher than 
 / their cavalry, and have more men of family 
 / among their officers. From some enquiries 
 which I made here, as to prices and the 
 common expenditure among young military 
 men of his cast, I found that with an income 
 which would scarcely keep a British officer 
 in the garrison of Dublin, however quietly 
 he might desire to live, this gentleman was 
 enabled to keep two men-servants, (not 
 soldiers) two horses which he rode or drove 
 in light carriages, two of which he kept, a 
 
240 SALTZBURG. 
 
 close and an open one ; all this he did upon 
 two hundred florins a month ; and I was 
 assured, and made to see from calculation, 
 that the thing was easy. To be sure there 
 is one thing that would never meet the 
 ideas of an Englishman, — the personal ex- 
 penditure of this man at table, for all his 
 meals, did not, perhaps, on ordinary oc- 
 casions, amount to two florins a day. But 
 the luxury of conveyance is cheap in Ger- 
 many, as also the hire of common valets 
 and grooms. If you are in a town of any 
 size or consequence you can procure an 
 excellent, and often a very elegant carriage 
 with good horses and a respectable coach- 
 man at a very reasonable daily rate. I left 
 Saltzburg with the hope that in the course 
 of my life I might visit it again, and be 
 enabled to make a longer stay there. 
 
 The kutcher had supplied the place of 
 our worthy 'padre by a fat woman who had 
 been selling the refuse millinery of her 
 shop in Vienna at the fair of Saltzburg. 
 After one glance of reconnoissance, I ex- 
 ulted in the discovery that she did not 
 speak a word of French or Italian. It was 
 
AUSTRIA. 241 
 
 ■ as good as a comedy to see the kutcher 
 reading my face as he introduced this new 
 passenger, and evidently thinking about the 
 possible effect she might have in trying my 
 temper, or trying my purse at the close of 
 our long journey. We certainly doubly re- 
 gretted our late companion, but the young 
 student and myself lived together and made 
 the best of it; she never ate with us, to our 
 great delight ; and we gave one side of the 
 vehicle to her person, her pockets, and her 
 parcels. 
 
 The small post-towns of this part of 
 Germany have a very dull, uninteresting 
 aspect : one street, and two or three indif- 
 ferent inns, are generally what you dis- 
 cover — and all. 
 
 The noon-day repast in these small inns 
 is not very tempting : a bad soup and a slice 
 of hard beef is the usual fare, but you can 
 generally get a good glass of wiije to wash 
 it down. 
 
 The first evening we had a large party at 
 table, and they were all talking about 
 steam-engines, with a most violent degree 
 of wonder and interest. The circumstance 
 
242 AUSTRIA. 
 
 of our sending a steam-vessel to India, 
 -which they had just read of in a newspaper, 
 had set them off; and though many of them 
 spoke French, and were very anxious, ap- 
 parently, to converse with me, it was with 
 difficulty I could keep them in their anima- 
 tion, out of their dear expressive German. 
 I remember well, about fifteen years ago, 
 living for some weeks en pension with the 
 sous prifet of a department in France, when 
 a prisoner in that country, and that three 
 German officers were also of the party. It 
 was a particularly interesting period, and 
 one when politics were daily discussed, and 
 also the movements of the French and the 
 allies, who were then in the heart of France. 
 This was done freely and allowedly, the 
 Frenchmen taking their pari% just as men 
 should do, and agreeing to diffei^ on many 
 points. All these Germans spoke French 
 and English admirably, but it was irre- 
 sistibly diverting to see them, as they 
 warmed, break from French into English, 
 as nearer the genius of their own language, 
 
 CD O O ' 
 
 and soon after away into their rugged Ger- 
 man, every eye in a sparkle, and every 
 
AUSTRIA. 243 
 
 mouth frothing at the corner, while myself 
 and the Frenchmen were left behind, I to 
 translate to them what they had said in 
 English, and both of us to wait with pa- 
 tience till they gave us a lame French ver- 
 sion of what they had volubly poured out 
 in German. 
 
 It will be seen that what is called speak- 
 ing a little of a language will not answer 
 with the German ; he can neither listen to, 
 understand, nor attempt to support a con- 
 versation with you so. I think it is the 
 author of "An Autumn on the Rhine" who 
 represents himself as venturing on a little 
 conversation in German with some old 
 dowager whom he met, and being, literally, 
 thrown out at starting. To return : with* 
 this party our nation stood the highest and 
 first : we were every thing that was ener- 
 getic, and industrious, and wonderful. Not- 
 withstanding, however, all that the Aus- 
 trian may utter in favour of other countries, 
 all that he may trust himself to say against 
 tlie ministers of his own, still the very 
 word " Kaiser'' is dear to him ; and cer- 
 tainly the Emperor has the hearts and 
 R 2 
 
244 AUSTRIA. 
 
 voices of his people, as far as he and his 
 family are concerned. 
 
 The following day at our noon-repast we 
 met two or three parties of travellers who 
 halted at the same inn : in one of them my 
 eye caught an unhappy Englishman, and 
 my ear the disastrous accents of some 
 French, calamitously pronounced, and this 
 in a vain and unintelligible effort to be 
 playful with the German ladies of another 
 party. His age, the cut of his black coat, 
 his spectacles, all made me conjecture that 
 he was some wandering lexicon that had 
 rashly left his college-rooms, his commons, 
 and his bed-maker, for a voyage of dis- 
 covery. I thought the sound of English 
 miffht be a comfort to him, and, as I wanted 
 myself to learn the latest English news, I 
 crossed the room to accost him. He was 
 as gruff as an under porter : he had not 
 seen, he said, nor asked for a paper while 
 in Vienna. To humble, to punish him, I 
 asked, if he had not felt the embarrassment 
 of not being able to speak German. He 
 growled out " No," his French carried him 
 every where. I saw him turn over a bit of 
 
AUSTRIA. 245 
 
 rindfleisch (beef) and some sour krout with 
 uncontrollable dissatisfaction ; he looked as 
 if he had been long unbrushed, and was 
 thoroughly uncomfortable : he evidently 
 disliked his companions, and they him. I 
 politely bade him a good day and a good 
 journey, which he angrily acknowledged. 
 His party, in wonder, half rose, and bowed 
 to me with a smile, and I left him to pur- 
 sue my journey. Now fancy such a man's 
 account of Germany at his college-table, 
 and fancy his fellow-travellers' portrait of 
 their English companion. It is evidently 
 a mistake for a man of an advanced age, 
 settled habits, and without a foreign lan- 
 guage, to attempt journeying on the Con- 
 tinent, especially in a country like Ger- 
 many, alone. I am persuaded that such a 
 character brings false impressions away 
 with him, and leaves behind him false, and 
 undeservedly bad impressions, not only of 
 himself but of the English temper. 
 
 The famous Benedictine monastery of 
 
 Molk, one of the most splendid in Austria, 
 
 is the only remarkable object on the road 
 
 between Lintz and Vienna. It has the 
 
 R 3 
 
^46 AUSTRIA. 
 
 form and aspect of a palace : quadrangles, 
 windows, stair-cases, galleries, apartments 
 of a palace ; all is light, and space, and 
 magnificence. Its situation is very noble ; 
 upon a rocky plateau, high, but immediately 
 above the Danube, commanding a very fine 
 view of the windings of the river. The 
 country to the right, as you look up the 
 stream, presents a vast spread of elevated 
 plain ; plain that, when Napoleon rested 
 here, was covered with trampling squad- 
 rons of cavalry, and heavy masses of his in- 
 fantry advancing to the conquest of Vienna. 
 They show you the chamber that he oc- 
 cupied, and a burn upon the floor of it, 
 caused, as they told me, by his throwing 
 down in anger a letter from the Emperor 
 of Austria, declining to meet and give him 
 an interview. He was not, I should think, 
 very likely to destroy such a document, 
 even in the transport of his rage ; but this 
 may be a fiery print of his wrath produced 
 in some other manner. There is another 
 version of the anecdote, and a half-con- 
 sumed volume in the library, which he was 
 said to be reading at the moment. The 
 
AUSTRIA. 247 
 
 brothers, and the librarian among them, 
 were at dinner, so that we neither saw the 
 book nor heard the story correctly. 
 
 There is a picture in this convent, in a 
 small chapel, by Albert Diirer, on which 
 the traveller will gaze long with delight ; it 
 is a Madonna, — no, not a Madonna, — "a 
 Mutter Gottes.^' The head is mantled white j 
 the face is fair, and full, and not young ; 
 but the expression is all mother. I mean 
 not to speak of it as a fine conception of the 
 Virgin, but as a perfect one of a mother. 
 
 There is another picture here of great 
 excellence — a Rubens. The subject, The 
 appearing of the Angels at the Se- 
 pulchre of our Lord, to declare his Resur- 
 rection to Mary Magdalene and the Women 
 who accompanied her. The garments of 
 these angels are shining, and their hair 
 streams out of a brightness that marks them 
 as immortal. There is a radiance about 
 them that you would fear but for the calm- 
 ness that re-assures the troubled breast : — 
 who does not love the things that give such 
 strange and sublime emotions ? 
 
 R 4 
 
^^y' 
 
 248 AUSTRIA* 
 
 This abbey is rather collegiate in its cha- 
 racter than monastic. The 2:ardens are 
 pleasant and well stocked, having green- 
 houses and hot-houses. There is a hand- 
 some music saloon in the midst of it, and 
 a gay paper on the walls with eastern 
 plants, their large bright flowers, and the 
 painted birds of Asia. This does not look 
 very convent-like; but it is a monastery, 
 and sadder, I think, as a residence, than 
 one older and meaner, bare, and stained 
 grey ; for, what are all these comforts ? 
 what is this music saloon, if the voice of 
 woman is never to warble there, her eye 
 never to light it up ? 
 
 Within ten miles of Vienna, at Burgers - 
 dorf, I quitted my good kutcher and his 
 vehicle, and took the post, that I might 
 avoid embarrassment and delay at the 
 gates. It was not without regret that I 
 parted with my worthy young student. It 
 would surprise those who hold the German 
 students cheap, to listen to one of their 
 better sort ; they literally sigh for know- 
 ledge. They hoard their little all of money 
 
AUSTRIA. 249 
 
 for the purchase of books, their all of time 
 for the acquirement of learning. It is de- 
 lightful to be questioned by them on any 
 thing you fancy yourself to be well ac- 
 quainted with, and not an easy thing to 
 satisfy their intelligent curiosity. The go- 
 vernment of Austria is very strict with all 
 students ; will not suffer them to travel, 
 and watches their conduct with great jea- 
 lousy. This youth was studying at Padua 
 to prepare himself for public employment 
 in the Italian provinces. It is the present 
 policy of Austria to encourage Germans to 
 fill the public offices there, and her Italian 
 subjects to seek situations in Austria 
 Proper ; a circumstance which causes the 
 Italian lanorua«;e to be so much studied, 
 that a traveller speaking Italian only, would 
 find little difficulty in journeying from Ins- 
 pruck to Vienna. 
 
 In the immediate vicinity of Burgersdorf 
 I took an evening walk before I ordered 
 my horses ; and really the wooded beauty 
 of the scenery, its stillness, the dress of 
 the few peasants I met, the rude wooden 
 
250 AUSTRIA. 
 
 bridges, the dells and paths, and the lone 
 waters, might have induced me to believe 
 that I was far, very far, from the crowds 
 and the corruption of a capital. 
 
 They gave me a pair of beautiful iron 
 greys with long and silver tails, young, full 
 of mettle, and in high condition, and I was 
 driven cheerily to Vienna. I notice the 
 horses, because, I should before have re- 
 marked, that between Lintz and Vienna I 
 frequently met light waggons either laden 
 with small merchandise, or carrying pas- 
 sengers of a humble class, who lay upon 
 straw ; and yet, that very many of these 
 waggons were drawn by four horses of great 
 beauty and in high condition. It is de- 
 lightful to observe throughout Germany 
 how seldom horses are tasked or worked 
 above their strength, or have the appear- 
 ance of being ill fed and neglected. The 
 only exceptions, indeed, that I remarked to 
 this humane and creditable conduct, were 
 among the drivers of the common fiacres in 
 their large cities, and occasionally among 
 such of their kutchers as had lost somewhat 
 
VIENNA. 251 
 
 of their nation's tenderness for horses by as- 
 sociating with French voituriers and Itahan 
 vetturini. 
 
 It was dark when I reached the barrier. 
 I found theveryword ^^ Englander^^ enough : 
 they gave me no trouble about baggage, but 
 received their small fee with a bow, and 
 suffered me to drive instantly forward. 
 
 We proceeded, at afast pace, through the 
 wide street of a very long suburb, among 
 numbers of carriages, all in rapid motion, 
 and at last came out on a wide dark space, 
 which separates the suburbs from the city. 
 The city lay before me, no otherwise to be 
 ' distinguished than by its numerous lights, 
 which, as they shone up out of a blackness 
 that completely enveloped both the walls 
 and buildings, presented the appearance of 
 a vast camp, or bivouac. A roll over a 
 draw-bridge, a rattle under a gate-way, a 
 drive up one street, and a turn into a clean 
 court-yard, and the welcoming bell and re- 
 spectful servants of a well-ordered hotel, 
 will greet the traveller who directs his 
 driver to take him to the Archduke Charles, 
 in the Korner Strasse. He will find com- 
 
252 VIENNA. 
 
 fortable apartments, civil attendance, ex- 
 cellent fare, a la carte, at any hour,- in 
 a beautiful saloon, well-behaved domes^ 
 tiques de place, and a most respectable 
 and handsome carriage whenever he may 
 need one. The prices are fixed and rea- 
 sonable. 
 
 Vienna is not the city I, perhaps, ex- 
 pected to find it, although a very delightful 
 place ; indeed, I might have known that it 
 could no longer be what, to the imagination 
 of a fond reader of travels, it is so often 
 represented. The figures in the streets of 
 Vienna, both men and women, if I except 
 a few of the lowest class, might walk un- 
 distinguished and unobserved down Regent 
 Street, or through the Burlington Arcade. 
 The journeyman tailor, the bootmaker, 
 the hatter, and the young milliner of Lon- 
 don, might, in the articles they respectively 
 deal in, detect some difference in material 
 or workmanship ; but the traveller sees 
 around him hats, coats, trowsers, boots, 
 black stocks, and high shirt-collars, such as 
 he may have hoped that he had left behind; 
 bonnets, ribbons, gowns, shoes, shawls, and 
 
VIENNA. 253 
 
 false curls, such as he has seen before. 
 Fashions now travel faster than they were 
 wont to do ; and 1 think not that the very 
 tasteful and elegant white chapeaux, so 
 common among the belles of Vienna at the 
 period of my visit, had been discarded at 
 the very time from the promenades of Paris 
 or of London. 
 
 As to the old story of Turks, Tartars, 
 Greeks, Poles, Croats, Sclavonians, and 
 Plungarians, being seen every where in 
 their national dresses, it is told, and will be 
 repeated no more. The day for that kind 
 of display, for that proud avowal of country 
 and forefathers, is gone by : a solitary Turk 
 may, perhaps, be seen scowling under his 
 turban, near the hotel of an ambassador. 
 The miserable Sclavonian peasants do, in- 
 deed, in small groups, attract attention to 
 their sallow cheeks, their lank and horrid 
 hair, their coarse, and dull, and filthy garb ; 
 and the young Hungarian hussar still 
 dashes past you, the pelisse hanging grace- 
 fully from his shoulder, the kalpac looking 
 noble on his head ; but for the visitors of 
 
..e^^ 
 
 r.yf- S'fC£-€^'^'^^'^ 
 
 254 VIENNA. 
 
 other nations, Greek, Pole, even Tartar, 
 they have sunk into plain, unpicturesque, 
 hatted men. As a general observation, I 
 should say the Viennese dress well. 
 
 The aspect of Vienna, as to its streets 
 and buildings, is different from that which 
 I should have expected : it is not Ger- 
 manic, it is Italian ; the palaces, the pub- 
 lic buildings, the mansions of the nobihtj, 
 have the regular Italian character, but are 
 decidedly inferior to the stately edifices of 
 Florence and of Rome. Many of the 
 streets in the city itself are narrow, and the 
 houses lofty, an evidence of their age ; but 
 yet there is nothing antique about them, 
 or striking. Their shops, indeed, are dis- 
 tinguished, as our own were in the olden 
 time, by signs, either fixed or dangling 
 above them, or by small paintings, display- 
 ing the articles they sell. Here, over a 
 hosier's shop, hangs a golden sheep ; there, 
 at an apothecary's, figures Esculapius on a 
 painted board ; while here again, upon the 
 shutter of a chandler's shop, two flying 
 Cupids (really very fairly executed) support 
 between them — abound of tallow candles! 
 
"^ ^f"- VIENNA. ^S5 
 
 The squares, with the exception of Joseph 
 Platz, and that of the palace, scarce de- 
 serve the name ; the others, so called, are 
 only open spaces, irregular in form, and 
 appropriated to the holding of markets, or 
 else such areas as have been left vacant, 
 round churches. The Graben is one of the 
 best and busiest of these open spaces, beino- 
 filled with cheerful shops, and adorned 
 with two fountains, and a curious monu- 
 ment, commemorative of the plague which 
 ravaged Vienna in 1679, and of the grati- 
 tude of the Emperor Leopold and his 
 people when it was stayed. 
 
 There is one feature, however, in this 
 city, which more than redeems the tame 
 character of the rest : the august cathe- 
 dral of St. Stephen stands lofty and alone 
 in the midst of it. Upon its roof painted 
 tiles glitter in the sunbeam, and seem 
 gaudier than the adornments of so vener- 
 able a pile should be ; moreover, the taste 
 for that style of roofing is strictly Moorish. 
 Yet I know not, if this very thing gives it 
 not a new and peculiar interest in the eye 
 of the traveller, as he reflects that the Ot- 
 
256 VIENNA. 
 
 toman has pranced fierce before it, thirsting 
 for its destruction. On the outside it may 
 be said to be encumbered, but richly so, with 
 ornamental stone-work. For my own part, 
 I like that lavish expenditure of material, 
 and of labour, which the Gothic nations 
 bestowed upon their temples. I never 
 enter one of the vast and noble cathedrals 
 which they erected that my heart does not 
 thank them. They built always with costly, 
 uncalculating devotion for a thousand ge- 
 nerations. The interior of St. Stephen's is 
 grand and grave : the space and the gloom 
 give a liberty of thought to the spiritual 
 minded, and afford a shade, in which the 
 mourner may pray unnoticed by the happy. 
 
 Prince Eugene, a name dear to the read- 
 in o- soldiers of all countries, reposes in this 
 church ; his tomb is in the chapel of the 
 Holy Cross. I ascended the tower : the 
 view is magnificent ; and it is a great plea- 
 sure to see the huge bell, cast a century 
 ao-o, from the cannon of the defeated Turk. 
 
 There is in Vienna a museum of no 
 small interest, called the Collection Am- 
 bras,. from. the castle of that riame in the 
 
VIENNA. 257 
 
 Tyrol : it consists of old armour, old por- 
 traits, old relics, old toys, old works of 
 art. Woe to the curious or careless per- 
 son who swept from my chamber, at some 
 inn on my route home, the printed catalogue 
 of its treasures, where I had pencilled down 
 my delight in notes of admiration oppo- 
 site many objects of interest, which I can 
 no lonojer call to mind. The figures in 
 armour are very numerous, and of re- 
 nowned men ; they are disposed in many 
 chambers, a few in each chamber, mounted, 
 and the walls covered with arms and suits 
 of armour. It is by far the finest exhibition 
 of the kind I ever saw, and I am not for- 
 getting our own line of kings, or the boy- 
 throb with which I should still visit them. 
 But these, although they cannot claim so 
 high an historical interest, are kept in 
 better order, disposed in better taste, and 
 the whole display has a stern severity about 
 it. These coats of mail, these helmets, 
 these costly trappings and caparisons, glossy 
 with their velvets, and heavy with em- 
 broidery ; these long lances, and long 
 swords, and beside them hung the Turkey 
 
258 ^ VIENNA. 
 
 bridle, and the crooked scimitar, and the 
 captured crescent, — are things you can- 
 not tire with gazing on. There is also 
 a chamber with old portraits of the middle 
 ages, and another with curiosities, such as 
 delicate works in gold, ivory, rare shells, 
 and precious stones, quaintly carved into 
 toys, for the princely and the wealthy of 
 by-gone days, — all objects of a singular 
 interest to minds that like lookino^ back 
 into those ages. 
 
 I mention this museum because it suits 
 the English taste, and shows how much 
 there is to be found, all over Germany, 
 suited to that taste. 
 
 To give an account of the museums and 
 collections of Vienna in detail would re- 
 quh'e a residence of many weeks or months 
 in the city, and would fill a volume ; but it 
 is not, I think, the province of the mere 
 traveller to give catalogues of the contents 
 of galleries, but a brief mention of their 
 existence and value, and to present rather 
 the impressions made on him by the ap- 
 pearances of a country and a people. I 
 must say, therefore, that every one who 
 
VIENNA. 259 
 
 visits the city of Vienna will find that 
 there are galleries rich in paintings, and 
 that the museums in general are well de- 
 serving his attention. 
 
 There is a splendid library, the saloon 
 of which is truly magnificent, and the rare 
 and valuable curiosities of which they freely 
 exhibit. — There is an interesting cabinet 
 of natural history. 
 
 There is a cabinet of antiquities, where 
 the collection of engraved stones and ca- 
 meos is uncommonly rich and beautiful ; 
 and where, let me with gratitude record 
 the name, a Monsieur Arnett shows them 
 to the delighted stranger, with a patience, 
 a kindness, and a courtesy, which are too 
 rarely met with among professed antiqua- 
 rians for me ever to forget them. 
 
 There is another cabinet of monuments, 
 busts, lamps, and vases ; and there is one 
 expressly set apart for Egyptian antiqui- 
 ties ; but neither of these last are very rich 
 in their contents. 
 
 The Imperial Gallery of Pictures at the 
 Belvedere Palace is large, and contains 
 many fine paintings ; some Rubens, of a 
 s 2 
 
260 VIENNA. 
 
 vast size, and several, by other masters of 
 name, that were taken from the sup- 
 pressed convents, in the time of the Em- 
 peror Joseph II. 
 
 The Gallery of Prince Lichtenstein is 
 uncommonly rich, especially in the works 
 of Rubens ; and in this palace is the noblest 
 hall in Vienna. 
 
 The Arsenal is well deserving a visit. 
 The wide corridors, where the arms are 
 brilliantly and fancifully disposed, run 
 round a square court, where hangs a mas- 
 sive chain, with which the Turk, during 
 his memorable siege, shut up the navi- 
 gation of the Danube. In the saloons 
 there are many Turkish arms, and the 
 head of the vizier Kara Mustapha, who 
 commanded at the last siege, is preserved 
 among them. There are also many antique 
 arms, and many figures in fine suits of an- 
 cient armour; round some of these the 
 glorious old swords were girt with belts of 
 bright blue, or other gaudy-coloured rib- 
 bons, with silver or gilt fringes, fresh from 
 the shop of some stage-milliner in the 
 Graben. I could not keep silence at the 
 22 
 
VIENNA. 261 
 
 absurdity and impropriety of this ; I was 
 provoked; it destroyed all illusion, and 
 offended the taste so grossly, I cannot 
 understand how it can have been permitted, 
 I let out upon the subject with such good- 
 humoured enthusiasm, and this before a 
 large party of Germans, who so cordially 
 asjreed with me, that the conductor looked 
 vexed, and ashamed, — I hope sufficiently 
 so to report it where the error may be recti- 
 fied. The Germans, as a people, love to 
 escape in thought from the present to the 
 past ; they are ever ready to revert to those 
 periods of time which are so richly coloured 
 by the hues of romance, and which shine 
 bright with the deeds of chivalry. Not 
 far from Vienna the Emperor himself has 
 a costly toy exhibiting this taste very 
 strongly; it is called the Knight's Castle, 
 and has been erected with great care and 
 keeping, after the model of some ancient 
 baronial castle ; moat, drawbridge, port- 
 cullis, arched gateway, court, hall, chapel, 
 chambers, dungeons, walls, passages, gal- 
 leries, communications, turrets, — all cor- 
 rectly designed and fitted. The apart- 
 s 3 
 
262 VIENNA. 
 
 ments have old ceilings, old wainscottings, 
 that have been purchased at a great ex- 
 pence ; old furniture, old pictures, ancient 
 armour, ancient manuscripts, and illumi- 
 nated missals ; and, preserved in glass 
 cases, many most valuable curiosities, — 
 goblets, vases, dishes, trinkets, toys, — all 
 of the middle ages, and of rare costliness. 
 
 At a little distance from the castle he 
 has a tilting-ground, with regular lists for 
 the joust and tournament. Once or twice 
 they have held mock tourneys here for Iiis 
 amusement. Methinks, if the grim Al- 
 brechts and Eodolphs of other days could 
 look out of their graves, they could not 
 choose but smile at their descendants. 
 
 This taste obtains among the people. I 
 saw, while I was in Vienna, two pieces, 
 one in their Opera-house, entitled " The 
 Prince of Bavaria ;" the other at the court 
 theatre, called " The Fortunes and Death 
 of King Ottocar." In the former, which 
 was a fine pageant, it was surprising with 
 what minute attention all the suits of 
 armour had been prepared ; nothing could 
 be more perfect than the illusion. The 
 
VIENNA. 263 
 
 prince was personated by a fine handsome 
 young man, with fair shining hair ; and 
 when he stood miliehned beside the lady of 
 his love, wooing her, it was a fine picture. 
 In one part they introduced twenty knights 
 on horseback, and gave a scene a little too 
 Astley-like, but exceedingly well done. In 
 the latter piece, which is a tragedy, but 
 I should judge a heavy one, there is much 
 of the like show, and really (armour, beard, 
 and build, all considered,) the fierce Otto- 
 car seemed to live again in the person of 
 his representative. But, speaking of the 
 theatre in Vienna, I must forget things 
 like these. I went repeatedly to the court 
 theatre, where, alone, the true drama 
 is given, and I was alike surprised and 
 delighted. I was fortunate enough to be 
 present at the representation of the " Death 
 of Wallenstein." Although I sent early to 
 secure a seat, and went early that I might 
 reach it without inconvenience, I could only 
 cret a seat in the last row but one of the 
 parterre, and the theatre was crowded. 
 
 I have before said that I am ignorant of 
 the German language ; but, by translation 
 and analysis, I was well acquainted with 
 s 4 
 
264 VIENNA. 
 
 the tragedy of Wallen stein ; I could fol- 
 low and feel all through. I made no effort 
 to construe, as it were, but let the words 
 fall on my ear ; and, if it caught the sense, 
 well ; if not, the picture and the move- 
 ment, the look and the tone, were enough 
 for me. The effect of German acting — at 
 least of such acting as this — is wonderful : 
 it has a character of nature in it that is 
 never lost sight of; the walk, the turn, the 
 entrance, the exit ; the rising, sitting, using 
 the hand, ungirding of a sword, adjusting 
 of apparel, all deliberate, without being 
 affectedly slow ; and the tones ever vary- 
 ing, as they do, according to what is said 
 and felt among persons of the like class in 
 actual life. The actor who performed Wal- 
 lenstein never once gave you the idea of a 
 man that had learned the words of a part, 
 and uttered them before; and when, at 
 the close, after the finest possible exhi- 
 bition of a silent, superstitious, thoughtful 
 frame of mind, he passes down the stage to 
 his sleeping-chamber, you feel a stamp of 
 reality about it all, — as if you alone had 
 been permitted to listen to the words of 
 this being, and to see him thus, — as if 
 
VIENNA. 26$ 
 
 they never could be uttered, he never looked 
 upon, again. The character of Tliecla was 
 admirably filled : the taste would have de- 
 sired for her a more beautiful face and 
 form, though she was not plain ; but the 
 eye, as it followed her movements, was sa- 
 tisfied ; the ear, as it listened to the soft 
 and loving tones of a voice sweeter than 
 any song, was ravished. The celebrated 
 scene in this tragedy where Thecla, having 
 demanded an interview with the officer 
 who brings to her father the intelligence of 
 her lover's fate, asks for and listens to the 
 detail of his honourable daring, and me- 
 lancholy death, is a situation as nobly con- 
 ceived, and as effective, as any in the whole 
 range of the drama. The audience, but 
 for coursing tears and bursting sighs, were 
 mute. Women were in every box ; and in 
 the body of the theatre stood a crowd of 
 manly and bronzed officers. 
 
 I must not be told * that the German 
 
 * An Autumn near the Rhine, page 382. — a book 
 by some gentleman of undoubted talent, who has not 
 treated this subject quite fairl)\ I am an enemy, though 
 an humble one, to all sweepiugand indiscriminate censure. 
 
266 VIENNA. 
 
 lana;uao;e is " at once monotonous and 
 vulgar ;^ that " there is no nobleness in its 
 passion ;" that the poet's lines, " in the 
 mouths of the best actors, have a muddy ^ 
 murmuring harshness ;" that " there is, in 
 fact, a 'promic meanness in the sound of the 
 language ;" and that the style of acting of 
 a German is " without even dignity and 
 chaste energy." I must not be told this ; 
 because these happen to be just the points 
 on which any Englishman with an eye, an 
 ear, and a memory of the best models on 
 his own stage, may form a judgment and 
 pass an opinion. There is another thing 
 I am sorry to have been told, by a gentle- 
 man of no common talent, no common 
 observation, and whose three years' resi- 
 dence in Germany, together with the gene- 
 rally admitted ability of his book, give him 
 a most superior claim to attention, and 
 cause him to be quoted, indeed, as an un- 
 answerable authority, on almost every sub- 
 ject (except her literature) connected with 
 Germany,* — namely, " that there cannot 
 be a more dissolute city than Vienna, — 
 
 * Russel's Tour. 
 
VIENNA. 267 
 
 one where female virtue is less prized, and, 
 therefore, less frequent." I must say, that 
 I think his judgment is, to say the least of 
 it, very harsh, and very hastily pronounced. 
 Vienna is a capital and a garrison. The 
 citizens, although every shop is filled with 
 proofs of their industry and ingenuity, are 
 great lovers of pleasure ; they like to sit 
 under the shade of trees and awnings, 
 when they can ; they like to eat and drink 
 of the good things which their country 
 furnishes in abundance ; they like the 
 sound of music; and they like to crowd 
 into a ball-room for a dance j — all this they 
 like ; and it is strictly true with them, as 
 elsewhere, that they are lovers of pleasure 
 rather than lovers of God. That is a very 
 serious and a very affecting consideration, 
 as it regards mankind at large ; but the 
 question is not one that I wish to treat 
 here as a mourning moralist, but simply as 
 a traveller, as an observer of my fellow- 
 creatures. And I can only form my 
 own opinions from the eye, and these 
 gathered during a very short stay, and from 
 what may appear, to many of my readers. 
 
268 VIENNA. 
 
 very trifling and inconsequent circum- 
 stances. 
 
 In the first place, before eleven o'clock 
 at night the city is in profound repose : not 
 a female is to be seen in the streets. A so- 
 litary figure may still stand at the doorway 
 in the alleys near the Graben, or a shiver- 
 ing wretch still loiter on the ramparts near 
 the guard-houses, — but there is no impu- 
 dent soliciting of the passenger, there are no 
 loud voices in the thoroughfares, there is 
 no sound of revel from the windows. By day 
 there is no display or indecency of dress or 
 manner in public places, no staring, no 
 turning of the head, no open interchange 
 of glances, no evident assignation-making. 
 
 In the Prater, the gardens, the squares, 
 and promenades, and in the theatres, no- 
 thing can be more quietly and naturally 
 cheerful than the manners of the citizens* 
 wives and their daughters. The neatness 
 and care with which boys, girls, and chil- 
 dren of the tenderest ages, are dressed, and 
 their smiling and happy appearance, would 
 lead the gazer to the very natural conclu- 
 sion — that their parents loved them, and 
 
VIENNA. 269 
 
 each other. That in Vienna the wealthy 
 profligate may purchase the favours of needy 
 and corrupted beauty, — and this, too, where 
 the female has family-duties that she vio- 
 lates, and passes in the scale of society 
 above the open, but more virtuous, though 
 more wretched prostitutes, — I have no 
 doubt ; but that a total want of principle is 
 so universally diffused among the wives and 
 daughters of citizens in comfortable and 
 affluent circumstances, that to increase the 
 means of their extravagance they are ever 
 ready to sacrifice themselves to a worthless 
 purchaser, I certainly am not disposed to 
 believe. 
 
 That in a city where all dance, the aban- 
 doned should dance also, and that there 
 should be ball-rooms in which gentlemen 
 are admitted for sixpence, and females Jree, 
 does not, I confess, surprise me any more 
 than the existence of many places of resort 
 both in Paris and London, where I doubt 
 if the meetings are lor purer purposes, and 
 where, as in Vienna, they are confined to 
 the very lowest classes. Travellers who know 
 Paris, and Naples, and Venice, may bear 
 
270 VIENNA. 
 
 with, however they may deplore, the dis- 
 sipation of the citizens of Vienna ; and it 
 would be well, if, in judging of foreign 
 countries, we Englishmen kept present in 
 our minds the exact scenes which our own 
 metropolis would exhibit to the eye of a 
 foreigner; and how rash would be his 
 condemnation of us, as a body, if he formed 
 his opinions from our theatres, our streets, 
 our Vauxhall, our tea-gardens on a Sunday 
 evening, or from the various lodging- 
 houses in the vicinity of Leicester- Square, 
 where foreigners are often made to fancy 
 themselves for the first few days in respect- 
 able private lodgings, — to say nothing of 
 the picture that square must present to 
 him every hour. 
 
 With regard to the people of Vienna, 
 they are politically degraded : they are not 
 allowed to speak, and they cannot be ex- 
 pected to think, like independent men. 
 But I believe them in their families to be 
 an honest, affectionate, cheerful race, al- 
 ways ready to make holiday, happy in 
 seeing their wives and children partakers 
 of their pleasures, and in no feature of 
 
VIENNA. 271 
 
 their character more remarkable than in 
 their frank and obhging deportment to 
 the stranger. 
 
 I recollect not to have seen a beggar in 
 Vienna. The benevolent institntions are 
 numerous ; the government interests itself 
 greatly in the conduct of them, and the 
 citizens pay cheerfully to support them. 
 There are also many associations among the 
 inhabitants for securing pensions to them- 
 selves in the season of sickness, and in the 
 decline of life, There are not less than ten of 
 these, of different classes. In short, although 
 the good people eat and drink, and make 
 their souls enjoy the good of their labour, 
 they do certainly never forget to show 
 some sort of gratitude to God, by the free 
 exercise of love and charity towards their 
 fellow-creatures. Their loyalty is excessive ; 
 the word Kaiser is ever in the mouth, whe- 
 ther they talk, or sing ; and, strange as it 
 may sound, there certainly is, in this most 
 despotic of all governments, such a paternal 
 mildness, a justice, a wisdom in the ad- 
 ministration of the laws, and in the moral 
 rule over the people, that crimes arc not 
 
272 VIENNA. 
 
 very frequent, and capital punishments very 
 rarely inflicted. 
 
 I saw the garrison under arms, with 
 laurels in their caps, on the anniversary of 
 the battle of Leipsic. The Hungarian gre- 
 nadiers are remarkably fine men. They 
 have not that smartness under arms which 
 the Prussians have, nor have they that 
 animated intelligence of look which marked 
 the old Imperial Guard of France. But 
 they are very warlike ; their stature tall, 
 their limbs large, their complexions brown, 
 their uniform white, the cap of sable fur, 
 the pantaloon of a pale Hungarian blue ; 
 they are slow and steady in every move- 
 ment ; and, even as they marched at ease to 
 the ground, I observed that none ever 
 smiled. I cannot conceive these men flying 
 in battle ; I doubt if they ever have been 
 driven, — they have stood, and died where 
 they stood. The regiment of Austrian 
 grenadiers which paraded by their side was 
 a very fine body of men, but greatly inferior 
 to the Hungarian Sv A squadron of Hun- 
 garian hussars disappointed me. We have 
 no cavalry-general that would not have 
 
VIENNA. 273 
 
 ordered them off the ground, their turn- 
 out was so wretched ; but they ride beau- 
 tifully, and look bitter, and ready for the 
 meUe. That, however, does not excuse 
 such neglect of cleanliness as would be dis- 
 creditable to recruits ; and, to make all 
 worse, their clothing was old and worn 
 out. Some of the young officers were most 
 brilliant in their appearance, and made 
 those demi voltes in air which the Hun 
 should make. The finest cavalry I saw in 
 Austria, although there were none on the 
 ground this day, are the cuirassiers. The 
 white dress, the black cuirass, the scaled 
 helmet, the high boot, the long sword, and 
 the broad, brave, clean-looking dragoons 
 themselves, and their strong and well-con- 
 ditioned horses, I shall long remember. The 
 dress of the Austrian artillery is painfully 
 unmartial, but the men, taken as a body, 
 are, perhaps, as fine-looking soldiers as any 
 nation can boast. Their uniform is a rhu- 
 barb coloured drab jacket, of a long awk- 
 ward shape, with red cuff and collar, and 
 they wear a round hat, with the flap on one 
 side looped up, and a dark feather. The 
 
274 VIENNA. 
 
 conduct of these men wherever I saw them 
 appeared to me most excellent. There are 
 many peculiarities in costume in the Austrian 
 army, which, till the eye is familiar with 
 them, offend the taste. Their generals, for 
 example, are distinguished by red breeches. 
 Now, inexpressibles of this colour are 
 so closely associated in the mind of an 
 Englishman with those liveries, which many 
 servants will not even engage to wear, but 
 in which the fat servants of some old 
 families must still be content to appear, 
 that we really cannot keep our coun- 
 tenances, or look upon these worthy leaders 
 with the grave respect which is their 
 due. The Austrian army is certainly a 
 very fine one ; and again, as among the 
 Prussians, the stranger asks himself, how 
 came the French so continually to defeat 
 them ? it must have astonished the French 
 themselves. The Austrian officer, who dis- 
 charges his duty with zeal and intrepidity, 
 may nevertheless linger away a life without 
 distinction : here, perhaps, is one reason. 
 Yet, when we reflect how nobly on many 
 occasions the troops of Austria have be^ 
 haved, although so few incentives are fur- 
 
VIENNA. 2*75 
 
 nished to their ambition, we must feel in- 
 creased respect for the character of the 
 Austrian soldiery. There is a peculiar 
 love to the profession of arms common, 
 in a greater or less degree, to all Ger- 
 mans, both north and south. They love 
 the steed and the sabre, the rifle and the 
 powder-horn. They love the sound of / 
 the trumpet and the echo of the bugle. 
 They like that strange uncertainty of life 
 which takes away all anxious care about 
 any other provision than for the passing 
 day. They delight in the excitement of 
 the march ; and, if the pipe, and the flute, 
 and the pencil, are in their tent, they feel 
 the camp a home. As lovers, too, they 
 object not to that hurried life which 
 strengthens and refines a virtuous attach- 
 ment, making the object of it a vision 
 sweet and sacred for those lonely hours, 
 which, even amid the tumults of a cam- 
 paign, the soldier can always command. 
 
 Baden very greatly disappointed me. It 
 is a poor place, and not to be compared 
 with any other watering place in Germany 
 which I saw. 
 
 T 2 
 
276 VIENNA. 
 
 The season was indeed gone by ; still it 
 was evident to me what, even filled with 
 company, Baden would be. I visited the 
 baths, and to my astonishment saw persons 
 of both sexes in the bath together, and 
 moving about up to their necks in the 
 steaming water. A lady with the unwetted 
 curls of a handsome head carefully dressed, 
 was of the party, and a fat old gentleman, 
 who, his face alone appearing above the 
 water, looked like a red and rising moon. 
 This practice seems, and is indecent; al- 
 though custom has apparently so reconciled 
 visitors to it, that they walk about in the 
 water as grave, as calm, as unconcerned, as 
 if they were promenading in a garden. 
 The bathing dresses are large, long, and 
 fastened high up on the neck. 
 
 There is a miserable square, not larger 
 than a prison yard, with a few small trees 
 in it, in the very heart of the town, that 
 they call The Park, and a painted wooden 
 building, unworthy the poorest guinguette 
 near Paris, styled with great pomp in the 
 guide books the Eastern Pavilion. Not far, 
 however, from Baden is a narrow defile 
 with wood and water, and high overhanging 
 
VIENNA. 277 
 
 rocks, and ruined castles on their summits, 
 called the Valley of St. Helena. Hither 
 the Germans, who have the true pic-nic 
 taste, and just the temper and talents to 
 make such a thing pass off agreeably, resort 
 durinaj the season in ffreat numbers. At 
 the mouth of this valley is a private palace 
 belonging to the Archduke Charles, which 
 will charm every English visitor. It is 
 beautifully fitted up ; that is, every article 
 of furniture, every colour, whether of cur- 
 tains, draperies, paper, or carpets, will 
 be found in a taste quiet, chaste, like 
 the private gentleman. In the possession 
 of rank, renown, and fortune ; of things 
 yet better than these, of an attached wife 
 and sweet children, he seems, as by good 
 fortune, to have escaped the crown and the 
 palace, the council and the camp, and to 
 have found what, it is probable, even when 
 he led, and gloriously led, the armies of 
 Austria, he most coveted, — a home, a 
 family, and repose. 
 
 He is universally represented as a man 
 very domestic and home-loving, and simple 
 and unassuming in his manners. It is a 
 T 3 
 
278 VIENNA, 
 
 remarkable thing, that in Austria, where 
 kings and princes certainly possess power 
 the most despotic, their carriage and bear- 
 ing among their subjects should be, as it 
 universally is represented to be, plain, quiet, 
 and even yielding. No escorts ever drive you 
 out of their way. The fiacre will cut in be- 
 fore the Imperial carriage, and in the long 
 line on the Prater the citizen in his hackney, 
 the traveller in his job, the noble and the 
 prince of the Imperial family with their 
 splendid equipages take their place in file, 
 and roll along undistinguished in the same 
 crowd. It is not the etiquette to uncover to 
 them ; and I was told that the English visitors 
 at Vienna were remarked as being almost the 
 only strangers who saluted them. It is the 
 natural impulse of a gentleman to bow to 
 the members of a royal family. However, 
 I suspect, a good many of my countrymen's 
 bows here (could I have seen them) were 
 given in a manner that might have been 
 translated into " Look at me ; I am an 
 Englishman, I am a free man. I have made 
 you a bow, and you ought to be, as doubt- 
 less you are, struck by my politeness, and 
 
VIENNA. 
 
 279 
 
 flattered by my condescension. My bow is 
 in real value equal to the united liotou of 
 all these slaves in the Prater, who, to my 
 astonishment, never bow at all, — one rea- 
 son why I do." 
 
 You may easily discover from the man- 
 ners of all the servants, guards, and order- 
 lies about the royal gardens and palaces 
 near Vienna, that the Emperor is as glad to 
 forget the iron sceptre, which, guarded by 
 his ministers, himself is a slave to, as the 
 humblest citizen that walks the gardens of 
 Schoenbrunn. 
 
 The palace of Schoenbrunn is a hand- 
 some, cheerful residence ; its halls, stair- 
 cases, and apartments, spacious and noble. 
 The gardens are very beautiful, and well 
 laid out. There is a fine ornamental build- 
 ing in them, called the Gloriette. It is a 
 stately pillared portico, open, with a saloon 
 above, and a terrace on the roof: it shines 
 afar, and is seen many miles distant. 
 
 The spot in the garden that most in- 
 terested me was a small plot of enclosed 
 ground, which is tilled, and looked after, by 
 young Napoleon, who generally resides 
 
 T 4 
 
280 VIENNA* 
 
 with his governor in this palace. I na- 
 turally looked in the garden of a boy for 
 flowers and plants, but his fancy has been 
 for the growing of potatoes. His amuse- 
 ment, the gardener told me, was to try if 
 he could not so train the tops of the plant 
 as to dispose them into some beauty, and that 
 when he dug his crop, he carried his potatoes 
 as a present, of his own rearing, for the table 
 of the Emperor his grandfather, who is re- 
 presented as being very fond of him. All 
 persons about the palace spoke of the youth 
 with evident attachment. I visited his 
 apartments, they were plainly furnished, 
 and his escritoire bore marks of its belong- 
 ing to a young task-writing student. I saw 
 also in this same palace the small secluded 
 cabinet occupied by Napoleon himself, 
 where, as the old servant, who, together 
 with his own domestics, was in waiting on 
 him during his stay at Schoenbrunn, told 
 me, he was wont to read and write for 
 hours alone, and where he is said first to 
 have seen the portrait of Maria Louisa, 
 whom he afterwards demanded for his. 
 bride. 
 
VIENNA. 281 
 
 There are several drawings in this ca- 
 binet which hung in it at that time, and 
 hang there still. They are executed by 
 different princesses of the Austrian Im- 
 perial family, giving proof that they were 
 quiet in their tastes and pursuits ; and they 
 must have reproved the conqueror every 
 time he looked on them, for driving away 
 so happy a family from their favourite 
 residence. 
 
 Almost all the time that I was at Vienna 
 young Napoleon was staying in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Presburg with the Emperor, 
 and I sadly feared that I should have no 
 opportunity of seeing him. He came in, 
 however, to the palace in the city for two 
 or three days ; and, before his return, an 
 event occurred which, as it caused him to 
 appear on a public occasion, enabled me to 
 see him under circumstances, to my cast of 
 thought, peculiarly interesting. News ar- 
 rived in the capital that the worthy King of 
 Bavaria had died most suddenly. The 
 usual orders were immediately given for 
 performing funeral ceremonies, in honour 
 of his memory, in the private chapel of 
 
282 VIENNA. 
 
 the palace. The young Napoleon and a 
 brother of the Emperor, being the only 
 members of the Imperial family present in 
 the city, assisted at these honours. There 
 was a vigil service the first evening, and a 
 grand mass and requiem on the morrow. 
 I was present at both ; the court only at 
 the first. 
 
 In the centre of the chapel a kingly 
 crown and a ducal cap lay glittering upon 
 a black pall, which covered a raised (pageant) 
 bier. Innumerable tall and massive church 
 candlesticks, of silver, were ranged around 
 the bier ; and the thick pale torches shed 
 on it their white and sickly rays. A row 
 of priests stood, with their clasped hands 
 pointed in prayer, on one side ; a rank 
 of the life or palace guards, in scarlet 
 clothing, leaned upon their halberts on that 
 opposite. At the head of the bier, some 
 twenty officers of the Hungarian grena- 
 diers, and two or three hussar officers, who 
 accompanied the commander of the gar- 
 rison, stood closely grouped. A few per- 
 sons of distinction sat in private pews, in 
 a gallery above, that have glass windows 
 
VIENNA. 283 
 
 looking down into the chapel. Among 
 these, in a pew by himself, next that of the 
 Emperor's brother, was the young Na- 
 poleon. He leaned from the open win- 
 dow dm*ing the service : his complexion is 
 very fair, his forehead good, the lower part 
 of his face short and romided ; his nose 
 not very prominent, but well-shaped. The 
 colour of his eyes I could not distinguish, 
 and, except for moments, saw him only in 
 profile ; but he impresses you as a very 
 good-looking, gentleman-like boy, with an 
 appearance and manner somewhat beyond 
 his age. His hands were clasped together, 
 and he seemed to take that feeling interest 
 in the scene, which is alike natural and be- 
 coming in a youth, of fifteen. The so- 
 lemnity of the service, and the sweetness 
 of the singing, were, perhaps, the only 
 things that moved or occupied his young 
 mind; and yet it is more than probable 
 that he would know, and might, at such a 
 moment, have remembered, that, but for 
 his father, these obsequies might have been 
 electoral, and not regal; that the kingly 
 crown upon that bier was the gift of that 
 
284 VIENNA. 
 
 father, when he decreed that the Elector 
 of Bavaria should wear one. The regal 
 honours and powers which he had be- 
 stowed had outlived his own, even in life ; 
 and in death he himself had lain down in the 
 grave of an exile. The son might remem- 
 ber, that no such requiem was sung over 
 the distant tomb of that father ; but that 
 the enemies who had guarded him living, 
 and who could not deny him the funeral of 
 a soldier, guarded him dead. All this he 
 might remember, and might secretly vow 
 to see his father's bones yet deposited in a 
 fitting sepulchre. I admit, however, that 
 all this is not very probable ; for I learn 
 that he is bred up in a particularly quiet 
 way, is little on horseback, and seldom or 
 ever seen among the troops, or encouraged 
 in any martial tastes. Circumstance, how- 
 ever, brings about strange and miraculous 
 changes in, or rather developements of, 
 human character ; and the stirring trumpet 
 may yet sound, which shall awake in the 
 bosom of this youth the stern and am- 
 bitious spirit of his father. 
 
 All the associations of thought which 
 
VIENNA. 285 
 
 crowded into my mind were naturally cal- 
 culated to increase the interest of the scene. 
 There was something inexpressibly affect- 
 ing in the whole picture. A jewelled crown 
 upon a black pall ! How mournfully it 
 glitters ! — it seems to tremble ! The mean- 
 est beggar present looks on it with no envy 
 in such company. There is a something, 
 too, in these ceremonies for the dead, to 
 me, very melancholy and grand, arising 
 from the mere circumstance of the age and 
 fashion of the huge and massive candle- 
 sticks that stand, in gleaming rows, around 
 the bier, and that have assisted, on like 
 solemn occasions, for so many centuries. I 
 thought upon the rude hunting-lodge on 
 the lone lake of Berchtolsgaden ; and I 
 pitied, — though it may sound wrong, — I 
 pitied the poor king, to have perished 
 out of so still and sweet a possession. It 
 was strange, too, to look upon soldiers 
 of Austria, who had so often seen the 
 armies of Bavaria arrayed against them 
 in the field, paying these honours to the 
 memory of Bavaria's king j and unsatingly 
 delightful to see the child of the mightiest 
 
286 PRESBURG. 
 
 and most wonderful conqueror of our age 
 kneeling in prayer, with a heart, perhaps, 
 tender as his young fair cheek. This day 
 alone would have rewarded my journey 
 from England ; but I had yet another scene 
 of interest in reserve : I was determined to 
 pass one day at Presburg, for the chance of 
 being present at a sitting of the Hungarian 
 Deputies. 
 
 The distance from Vienna to Presburg 
 is only forty English miles, and a most 
 excellent eilwagen traverses it in little 
 more than five hours. The first night I 
 could not get a bed, the town was so full ; 
 but they gave me as good a shake-down in 
 one of the numerous supper-rooms as they 
 could contrive. I took my supper, how- 
 ever, in the large salle, which was crowded 
 with the same sort of figures you meet in 
 all the coffee-houses of Vienna : a loud 
 band at the door, and loud voices in the 
 salle, struggled for the mastery ; and I was 
 not sorry to escape soon from both to my 
 paillasse. Here, amid the expiring fumes 
 of spilled wine of Ofen, and pipe-ashes, 
 near a table with the gravy-stained cloth 
 
PRESBURG. 287 
 
 yet on it, and the empty salad-bowl by its 
 side, I fell sound asleep. My domestique 
 de place, a most active and intelligent man, 
 whom I brought with me from Vienna, 
 had watched the earliest departure, and, 
 by seven o'clock the following morning, 
 I was transferred to a clean, comfortable 
 bed-chamber. It is but forty miles from 
 Vienna to Presburg; but if the traveller 
 will only walk, at an early hour, to the 
 large upper market, he may fancy him- 
 self four hundred from any spot so civil- 
 ised. There is an abundant supply of 
 provisions of all sorts ; but they are all 
 clumsily and coarsely displayed ; there is 
 no attempt at disposing them to advantage, 
 or invitingly ; the women behind the heaps, 
 or stalls, are ill clad, masculine, and un- 
 clean. The Hungarian peasant has a thick, 
 stout, blue jacket, a strong, heavy, shapeless 
 boot, uncombed hair, and a broad-brimmed 
 hat with a low rounded crown. Mixed 
 with these, in very large numbers, are the 
 Sclavonian peasants ; and, not the least re- 
 markable feature in the scene, on a wide 
 dusty space near the market stand some 
 
288 PRESBURG. 
 
 hundreds of rude waggons, drawn by small 
 wild-looking horses. It is impossible that, 
 in the day when the Roman made war in 
 Illyria, the Sclavonian peasant could have 
 been in garb, in aspect, in manners, more 
 completely the barbarian than to the eye 
 he still seems ; nor could the waggon in a 
 Scythian camp have been a ruder thing 
 than any of those still crowded together in 
 the markets at Presburg. I observed one 
 of the Sclavonians,, a very old man, with 
 grey hairs, which hung, nevertheless, as 
 lank, and waved as wild as the blackest, 
 buying food at a stall where they sold pro- 
 visions ready dressed. He handled a dozen 
 different pieces of meat or poultry, and, at 
 last, carried off the quarter of a large coarse 
 goose, to tear it, doglike, in a corner. 
 
 The man who does not feel sorrow when 
 he sees fellow-creatures thus degraded, — 
 who does not feel humbled himself at the 
 sight, — who does not wish to see their 
 moral and political condition improved, — 
 and to see the blessings of civil and re- 
 ligious liberty widely diffused throughout 
 the world, — is a man I pity. " Pshaw !" 
 
PRESBURG. 289 
 
 saj's a man of the world, " it is their lot, 
 their condition, my good Sir. They are 
 very well off, and very happy. Did not 
 you see that old fellow with the leg of 
 a goose ? what would you have ? And 
 here again, as I live, there are a dozen or 
 two of these wretched Sclavonians of yours 
 dancing, — as I live, dancing /" — Yes, they 
 dance ! When a few paltry pence were 
 given them, at the door of an hotel, for 
 some labour they had performed, they 
 danced, shook their matted locks, and lifted 
 their heavy feet, and showed their white 
 teeth, and sung something too wild to be 
 called a song ! 
 
 It is not exactly in passing from a scene 
 like this that the traveller is prepared to be 
 very much enraptured with the free Diet 
 of Hungary. In the hall, however, of the 
 Hungarian Deputies, it is impossible not 
 to feel a momentary delight, the picture is 
 so new and so startling. I sat in the gal- 
 lery, whither I went at an early hour ; but 
 it was filled to suffocation before the mem- 
 bers took their seats. 
 
290 PRESBURG. 
 
 The hall is nothing remarkable, merely 
 a long, lofty chamber. A chair is raised 
 on a step at the upper end, for the presi- 
 dent. Tables run the whole length of the 
 hall, covered with green cloth, and sup- 
 plied abundantly with materials for writing. 
 Immediately below, and to the right of the 
 president, sat such bishops and dignitaries 
 of the church as have seats in this assembly. 
 The rest of the members, and there ap- 
 peared to be more than three hundred pre- 
 sent, wore the national dress of Hungary. 
 It consists of a hussar jacket and panta- 
 loon, of brown cloth, and a hussar boot. 
 The ornaments are of black silk lace, 
 plain, warlike, and becoming. A very few, 
 indeed, were sheeted in gold lace, and a 
 few more wore a tassel of gold bullion on 
 the boot, and a gold cord fastening the 
 pelisse. The reason of this difference I 
 learned to be, that some were actually ia 
 the military service ; and the tassel and 
 cord of others were little vain additions, 
 which men dandified by residence in Vi- 
 enna had ventured to assume : but nothing 
 
PRESBURG. 291 
 
 could be more plain, or in better taste, than 
 the costume of the many. There was a 
 spur on every heel, a sword on every 
 thigh, and by the side of every man, on the 
 table at which he sat, stood the kalpac, 
 with its rich brown fur, and that falling top 
 of crimson cloth, which, when, in former 
 times, the Hungarian galloped to the field, 
 flew bravely in the wind, giving life and 
 menace to his motion. It is impossible to 
 gaze down without interest on this belted 
 assembly, the descendants of a race of war- 
 riors ever ready to leap into their saddles, — 
 in fact, the vanguard of Europe against the 
 Turk. 
 
 I cordially hate the Turk, not because 
 he is a Mahometan ; I am not so wretched 
 or so narrow-minded a Christian as that ; 
 but because all of him that is not slave is ty- 
 rant ; because he would (if he could) bring 
 back upon the earth a moral darkness. 
 
 I must admit, indeed, that the Hun- 
 garian has something of the tyrant in him, 
 — a haughtiness gotten centuries ago, on 
 horseback ; and that he has, in his day, 
 lorded it among his vassal^, as did the barons 
 u 2 
 
292 PRESBURG. 
 
 of our own country (blessings on their me- 
 mory, nevertheless !) in the days of King 
 John : but when we reflect that the nobles 
 and privileged classes of Hungary form, at 
 least, a twentieth part of her population ; 
 that, upon the whole, that population has 
 generally been found attached to them ; 
 and that the Diet of Hungary has often 
 resisted and defied the crown of Austria, 
 we cannot say that it is composed of slaves. 
 No longer, indeed, can they be said to 
 defy the crown ; and in the consciousness, 
 perhaps, that they have sunk nearer to the 
 people, so they feel more with them, and 
 raise their voices more loudly for them. 
 
 The debate was carried on in Latin : 
 numbers spoke, and, in general, they had a 
 ready and fluent command of language, and 
 a very animated and manly delivery. Few 
 of their speeches were more than ten 
 minutes in length, and the greater part still 
 shorter. It is true that, as it has seldom 
 fallen to my lot to hear Latin spoken since, 
 as a youth, I listened to declamations, I 
 cannot pretend to speak to the classical 
 correctness of expressions, or the con- 
 
PRESBURG. 293 
 
 struction of sentences ; but thus far I can 
 saj, it was not a bald, meagre, thin Latin ; 
 and many of the sentences fell richly 
 rounded on my ear. There was one church- 
 man, an abbot (I think), who spoke rapidly, 
 bitterly, and very well ; and there was an 
 elderly deputy with grey hairs, who replied 
 to him most eloquently, with a fire and 
 a freedom that surprised me. I could not 
 get fully at the subject, but it was some 
 question connected with a tax that had 
 been imposed, under the late viceroy, on 
 salt, and that was felt and complained of by 
 the people. This fine old Hungarian, in 
 the course of his speech, dwelt proudly 
 upon the ancient privileges of his country, 
 and complained that the spirit of them had 
 been greatly invaded during the late lieu- 
 tenancy. His loyal expressions towards 
 the person and family of the Emperor were 
 warm, and seemed to be sincere ; but he 
 returned, quite as bitterly, to his attack on 
 the measure on which he nought to impeach 
 the minister ; and, in one part, where he 
 was more particularly pleading the cause of 
 the people, he cried out, with animation, 
 u 3 
 
294 PRESBURG. 
 
 *' Vox populi, Vox Dei /" It electrified the 
 whole assembly. There were many loud 
 " Vivats /" not only among the deputies 
 themselves, but also from almost all the 
 persons in the gallery. 
 
 For a brief moment I might have fan- 
 cied myself in a free assembly, but the 
 calm, complacent smile upon the features 
 of a keen-looking president, who is the re- 
 presentative of the crown, reminded me 
 that there was a bridle upon the Hungarian 
 steed, and, although he is suffered to 
 prance loftily in pride and beauty, and to 
 fancy as he gallops that he is running far 
 and away, his rider sits laughingly at ease 
 in the saddle, and knows better. 
 
 The illusion is still more completely dis- 
 sipated at the doors of this assembly ; no 
 fiery horses stand saddled and neighing for 
 their masters, but a long row of mean open 
 carriages, each, however, with a hussar be- 
 hind them, wait tamely in the street, and 
 such of the spurred members as have one 
 get slowly into it, loll indolently back, 
 and are driven to their lodgings. This, it 
 will be observed, was a meeting of the Se- 
 
PRESBURG. 295 
 
 cond Chamber ; a holding of the full Diet, 
 where the Magnates attend, I was not 
 fortunate enough to see, and I am still left, 
 in spite of all descriptions, a little in doubt 
 as to the picture it would actually present : 
 magnificent it may be, yet, methinks, judg- 
 ing from what I did see, the splendour has 
 been somewhat exaggerated, — that of the 
 Guard Noble undoubtedly is. They have 
 good, but not remarkable horses. The 
 hussar dress of scarlet and silver is rich and 
 dazzling ; and, as they ride down to mount 
 guard, to see them followed by a train of 
 orderlies mounted, and with led horses, 
 (although the pelisses of these orderlies 
 were old, and of rusty green, and the horses 
 might have been turned out in higher 
 order,) has an appearance somewhat im- 
 posing. But the young men composing 
 this corps differ in size, figure, and carriage, 
 and scarce look like soldiers by the side of 
 the old Austrian cuirassiers. A regiment 
 of these last lay in garrison here, and some 
 strong battalions of infantry, consisting en- 
 tirely of men from the Italian jjrovinces of 
 tlie empire. So much for the Houses of 
 u 4 
 
296 PRESBURG. 
 
 Lords and Commons at Presburg, and for 
 the chance of free discussion in the king- 
 dom of Hungary. 
 
 The theatre was crowded in the evening, 
 well lighted, and the company well dressed, 
 and looking sufficiently brilliant. There 
 was also a circus open for the exhibition of 
 horsemanship : the performers were from 
 Cracow. I looked in, and saw not a shade 
 of difference in their exhibitions from those 
 given at Astley's. 
 
 The town of Presburg is not at all re- 
 markable either in its buildings or streets ; 
 the suburbs are open, cheerful, and far 
 cleaner. The Danube rolls past of a noble 
 width, and the skeleton of a square castle, 
 once stately from its size, and the loftiness 
 of its site, still crowns the hill above the 
 city. 
 
 The church where the coronation takes 
 place is not large, or handsome ; but over 
 the grand altar is a fine equestrian statue of 
 St. Martin, who is represented, while his 
 horse is prancing to the rein, dividing his 
 cloak with a sabre, according to the legend. 
 It forms a most appropriate altar-piece, in 
 
PRESBURG. 
 
 297 
 
 reference to those days, when Hungary was 
 a kino'dom of warriors on horseback. Per- 
 haps the most interesting feature about 
 Presburg was the presence of so many old 
 Hungarian nobles of the second class, from 
 the country and the upper provinces. 
 Their grave and staid appearance, the fe- 
 males of their families in unfashionable 
 dresses, and the rough old hussars in their 
 service, whose pelisses, like their masters, 
 looked old enough to have seen and battled 
 against the Turk, gave me, especially one 
 family, a picture I should despair of de- 
 scribing. 
 
 One youthful and gentlemanlike-looking 
 man, who must have often ridden in Hyde 
 Park, by his dress, his horse, and the quiet- 
 ness of his manner and style of riding, fol- 
 lowed, though in plain clothes, by his 
 hussar, and who looked hard at me, with a 
 great, and civil, but hesitating anxiety, as 
 though he would wish to speak, yet knew 
 not exactly why, I guessed to be some 
 young Hungarian of birth, who had been 
 attached to the Austrian embassy in Lon- 
 don. Another, an older man, polite, and 
 
298 PRESBURG. . 
 
 speaking English very well, leaned over 
 from his box at the theatre, entered agree- 
 ably and freely into conversation, and pro- 
 mised me an invitation to a grand ball, at 
 which all the Magnates were to be pre- 
 sent, a few days afterwards. This kind- 
 ness I could not avail myself of; I was 
 pressed for time, and returned to Vienna 
 on the morrow. 
 
 As I approached Vienna, on my return 
 from Presburg, rolling rapidly along a com- 
 modious road in a neat, well-varnished, 
 well-padded eilwagen, it was strange to re- 
 flect that, little more than a century ago, 
 " Tartar, and Spahi, and Turcoman," were 
 skirmishing over the plains around, that 
 janisaries lay encamped on the beautiful 
 banks of the Danube, and the camel of 
 Arabia was planting his spongy foot in my 
 present track. 
 
 I am sure, to look into the Prater of Vi- 
 enna, the Turk seems to have as little 
 business near it as near Hyde Park, or 
 Kensington Gardens ; yet, so it was yester- 
 day, — a mere yesterday, in the records of 
 history. At that memorable period a few 
 
VIENNA. 299 
 
 discontented and haughty nobles of Hun- 
 gary made them feel, throughout Austria, 
 the full value of the services which the 
 Hungarian had so often rendered them 
 against the Ottoman, by forgetting their 
 duty as Christians, and their fidelity as 
 subjects. Will it ever recur, that hateful 
 sight, — the Crescent glittering before the 
 walls of Vienna ? Would the Greek pity 
 them ? Methinks not. That they will in 
 all probability be safe from such a visit- 
 ation they will not owe to the wisdom of 
 their own government, but to that higher 
 government which mocks the short-sighted 
 contrivances of all human policy. The 
 power of the Ottoman empire has reached 
 another turning point, and in spite of all 
 Christian propping, looks as though it tot- 
 tered towards a fall. 
 
 The Prater is a great feature at Vienna. 
 The capital was not very full. During my 
 stay, I never saw more than from four hun- 
 dred to six hundred carriages on the drive ; 
 and it was rather too late in the season for 
 reposing on grass, and under the shade of 
 trees in the evening. But it is a fair and 
 
300 VIENNA. 
 
 pleasant sight to see the whole of the 
 respectable and middle classes of Vienna 
 walking in family groupes, and presenting 
 to yom* eye, in good clothes, healthy looks, 
 and calmly smiling faces, many clear indica- 
 tions of an active and rewarded industry, 
 easy circumstances, and a thankful enjoy- 
 ment of them. 
 
 The English traveller, however, forgets 
 not that, within these twenty years, this 
 pleasure-park has been twice visited by 
 enemies. That the Prater was a busy 
 bivouac, that the sulphurous clouds of bat- 
 tle have rolled near it, and that the dying 
 and the wounded have lain scattered under 
 the shade of those trees where music, and 
 the song, and the jest, are now again the 
 familiar sounds : you could not stop many 
 families on their walk there at this hour 
 who would not have some little domestic 
 tragedy of that period to relate to you. 
 
 Although the loyalty of the helpless 
 inhabitants of Vienna was never for a mo- 
 ment concealed, even after their city was 
 possessed by the French, yet they speak well 
 of the conduct of Napoleon, and of the dis- 
 
VIENNA. 301 
 
 cipline of his troops. The Itinerary of Rei- 
 chard, to awaken, I suppose, the feelings and 
 indignation of the traveller, records, that 
 " the tame stags in the Prater were all killed hy 
 the French soldiers in 1809." An old cam- 
 paigner may be pardoned for suspecting 
 that the Austrian yager and the Hunga- 
 rian hussar had their share of the venison. 
 By some easy arrangement this loss has 
 been repaired. A little beyond the head of 
 the more public drive the deer come lightly 
 up to the passer-by, with a pretty un- 
 wondering tameness ; and it is a pastime, 
 they tell me, with young Napoleon, when 
 resident in or near the capital, to visit 
 the haunt of these beautiful animals 
 most evenings, and to watch them at their 
 play. 
 
 During my stay at Vienna there were 
 no public concerts, neither was there an 
 opera that season ; so that I only heard 
 their fine military bands, the pieces exe- 
 cuted by their various orchestras at the 
 theatres, the excellent choir of St. Stephen's, 
 and the never-to-be-forgotten requiem at 
 the palace chapel. Judging from these 
 
302 VIENNA. 
 
 things alone, I may err; but I should say 
 that the Germans feel music very deeply, — 
 that it profoundly affects them. They do 
 not, like the Italians, hum every note they 
 hear ; but, though they pass away in silence, 
 they carry the melody in their heart. The 
 eye of the Italian, when he listens, sparkles; 
 the eye of the German is not unfrequently 
 dim with that rising tear which does never 
 fall, but marks the ebb and flow of the 
 heart's tide. The Italian is mercurial and 
 imitative ; the air which is running in his 
 head he must warble as he goes, for want of 
 thought. In the German, music does a 
 deeper work ; it reaches the centre and 
 source of feeling, and awakens thoughts 
 which cannot be indulged otherwise than 
 in silence. Here, too, I would remark, 
 and the connection of the subjects is ad- 
 missible, that the Roman Catholic of Ger- 
 many in his church seems quite another 
 being from that of Italy; and the character 
 which Goldsmith has so beautifully and 
 faithfully given of the latter applies in 
 nothing to the German. He is seldom 
 careless or irreverent at the mass, seldom 
 
VIENNA. 303 
 
 timid, or formal, or slavish, in his acts of 
 devotion. There is a something staid in 
 his outward performances ; but " the soul's 
 sincere desire" is perceptible, and plainly 
 so, in the expression of his countenance, 
 when engaged in prayer. 
 
 I know many of my readers will ex- 
 claim, "This is all fancy: you deceive 
 yourself willingly, according to the frame 
 of your mind, and the tone of your re- 
 flections at the moment." — Really, I think 
 simply what I say : appearances, generally, 
 are all I 'pretend, as a traveller, to ex- 
 amine, — are almost the only guides of my 
 judgment ; and, I must say, speaking from 
 long personal experience, and frequent 
 comparison of my own hasty inferences 
 with those of persons far better qualified 
 to judge, I do not think that the eye is so 
 unfaithful an interpreter to the traveller as 
 many imagine. 
 
 The interior of domestic circles in Vienna 
 I did not see : few, very few travellers do. 
 It is by no means difficult for an English gen- 
 tleman to obtain introduction to the large 
 and public assemblies of the higher circles : 
 but these can have little of character in their 
 
304 VIENNA. 
 
 aspect ; and I felt little disappointed that 
 there were none held at the season of my 
 visit. T own I should have greatly coveted 
 admission to those private circles where 
 families meet in quietude, and are fond of 
 music, peace, and each other. That Vi- 
 enna contains many such I have no doubt ; 
 for although the quietism of small parties 
 is not so much the taste in Vienna as in the 
 north, yet, all over Germany, numbers of 
 respectable families are to be found, where 
 those tastes are quietly indulged, which 
 minister to innocent delight, and on which 
 it is seldom the privilege of a stranger 
 even to gaze. In speaking of music, I 
 should observe, that from many things 
 which I saw, and from many inquiries 
 which I made, I am of opinion, as I have 
 ever been, that there is nowhere on the 
 Continent, not even in Germany, so much 
 parlour and drawing room enjoyment of it 
 as in England. The music, where you 
 have it, is better, perhaps ; but then it is 
 more of a public amusement. If you ex- 
 amine the long lists of amateurs abroad, 
 you will find a count and a cobbler on the 
 same page ; and in the concert saloons 
 
VIENNA. 305 
 
 there is collected, on a momentary equality, 
 all the musical talent which men and wo- 
 men, of all classes, can contribute : but 
 such is the happy structure of our society 
 in England, that in any considerable city 
 you may knock at twenty different doors, 
 and find a well-toned instrument in the 
 music-room, with its fair attendance of 
 gentle and accomplished performers. The 
 like you might do at almost every decent 
 country-seat ; and, if you speak of London, 
 the thought startles you. 
 
 On the other hand, for one English gen- 
 tleman who plays the flute, Germany has 
 a hundred. If you meet two fine young 
 officers walking together, you know that 
 they can go to their barrack-room and 
 play a duet : if you see a solitary, hand- 
 some, lover-like looking officer of cuiras- 
 siers riding slowly at the garden of Schon- 
 brunn (and I remember me of such a one), 
 you know that he has got his flute at home 
 to feed his flame, or to discourse for him to 
 the mistress of his heart : but, with regard 
 to a general cultivation of music among the 
 females in Germany, as an accomplishment, 
 
 X 
 
306 VIENNA, 
 
 it is not so extensive a practice as we ima- 
 gine, although, perhaps, German ladies are, 
 in this respect, far more widely taught 
 than the indolent dames of Italy. 
 
 All Germans whom I have met, who had 
 been much in society in England, and in 
 good society, expressed themselves alike 
 surprised and charmed with the many 
 sweet attractions of our private circles, aris- 
 ing from the accomplishments, the talents, 
 and the graces of our women. But to the 
 eye, many things reveal the mode of life of 
 circles which you do not enter. I like, in 
 foreign cities, to stand in the market-places, 
 lounge near shops of furniture, jewellery, 
 toys, and fill up the frame-work of private 
 houses thence. 
 
 In all comforts Vienna abounds : I should 
 think a winter and spring there delightful ; 
 and although the Viennese speak impure 
 German, yet to the learner of German, 
 who might, of course, find a first-rate 
 master, a regular attendance at such a 
 theatre as that of Vienna would be an in- 
 calculable advantage. It is not, however, 
 necessary to talk German to reside in this 
 
VIENNA. 307 
 
 capital ; French is universally spoken ; Ita- 
 lian is common. Metastasio passed a life 
 here ; and his vocabulary of German did not 
 exceed twenty words, which he only learned, 
 as he declared, to save his life. He always 
 professed the greatest aversion and con- 
 tempt for the language, the meaning of 
 which every one knows to be in his, and in 
 all like cases, a consciousness of inaptitude 
 to master its pronunciation, and conquer its 
 difficulties. 
 
 It cannot be denied that the political de- 
 gradation of the Viennese is extreme : not 
 being allowed either to lift up the voice or 
 employ the pen upon the subject of politics, 
 they have become naturally indifferent to all 
 public acts which do not personally affect 
 them, and, as a necessary consequence, most 
 ignorant about them. They cannot answer 
 your questions on the most common mea- 
 sures relating to their internal policy ; and 
 they smile to see your curiosity and eager- 
 ness about matters which they leave, with- 
 out one sigh of regret, to be ordered and 
 controlled by a cabinet that works in dark- 
 ness. 
 
 x2 
 
308 VIENNA. 
 
 There is a very strict police in Vienna ; 
 but it does not and has no occasion to 
 trouble itself with the inhabitants. As to 
 foreigners, with the exception, perhaps, of 
 English, the eye is ever on them. English 
 sentiments are known, — by contented slaves 
 are laughed at, and ridiculed just as heartily 
 as the government might desire, — by 
 thinking men are respected in silence, and 
 without notice. There is no necessity to 
 follow about an Englishman, and learn what 
 he says, or to open his letters, and see 
 what he writes. If, indeed, he is found in 
 close intimacy with suspected foreigners, 
 or if he obtrudes his opinion in public 
 places, with an evident desire to disturb 
 the tranquillity of society, and to awaken 
 among contented subjects feelings of hos- 
 tility to the measures of their cabinet, he 
 must expect what he deserves, — an order 
 to quit die city. But the English appear 
 to me, wherever I have been on the Con- 
 tinent, and at Vienna as elsewhere, to enjoy 
 a very remarkable exemption from all petty 
 persecutions. They may express their opi- 
 nions freely, and maintain them quietly in 
 
VIENNA. 309 
 
 the common course of conversation, when 
 the topics naturally call them forth ; they 
 may go to a casino, where they will find 
 The Morning Chronicle for perusal ; and 
 they may give it, if they like, the rumple 
 of approbation when they alight on any 
 well-penned passage against Prince Met- 
 ternich and the Holy Alliance. They may 
 walk, ride, and drive about the city, in 
 every direction, with the regular Bull 
 look, — 
 
 " Pride in their port, defiance in their eye :" 
 
 nor will they find themselves, at their hotel, 
 charged one dollar more than the submiss 
 Austrian, for being the lords of human kind. 
 But there is one thing they must not do ; — 
 they must not, by mistake, lay their cane 
 across the shoulders of a hackney-coach- 
 man in Stephen-Platz, for the Jarvey here 
 is quite as independent a personage as his 
 brother-whip in St. PauFs Church-yard, 
 and will, as some Englishmen of rank can 
 testify, most assuredly return the blow. I 
 have my doubts if this privilege would not 
 X 3 
 
310 VIENNA. 
 
 pass muster for the fair Goddess of Liberty 
 herself, with many of our ill-taught mob- 
 patriots at home. The nobles of Vienna, 
 however, never come, in any way, in rude 
 contact with the people, and never disturb 
 them by their pride. With no political 
 power, with no public duties, they are 
 merely a class elevated in rank and pos- 
 sessions : their titles, their wealth, and some 
 inconsequent privileges, alone, but yet 
 widely, separate them from the people, for 
 whom, indeed, they can do little but open 
 their gardens and their galleries, for lighter 
 hearts than their own to enjoy. There is 
 a something of military pomp, a something 
 of feudal display, among these nobles, when 
 resident on their wide estates, which may, 
 for a moment, dazzle even the Englishman : 
 but they sink into utter insignificance in his 
 estimation, when compared with the aris- 
 tocracy of his native country. The duties 
 of British peers are, indeed, pre-eminently 
 glorious : they are at once guardians of the 
 rights and the liberty of the people, — of 
 the privileges and the dignity of the crown ; 
 while the Austrian noble has no liberty of 
 
VIENNA. 311 
 
 his own, and no dignity beyond the sound 
 of a title and the glitter of a star. 
 
 I have not noticed many things in Vi- 
 enna which travellers are always taken to 
 see, and whicli any guide-book will indi- 
 cate: but I must not leave the city without 
 mention of the church and convent of 
 the Capuchins, where, in a low dark vault, 
 lie the remains of all the Imperial house 
 of Austria, from the days of the Emperor 
 JNIatthias. The coffins are very large, and 
 of bronze, those of the earliest date per- 
 fectly plain, others wrought with trophies 
 and achievements. A Capuchin lights a 
 taper, and conducts you round them : he 
 tells the tale of each in monkish Latin, and 
 with a monkish tone ; and, at the frequent 
 pause, he rings his knuckle on each bronze 
 chest, as if the bones within could confirm- 
 ingly reply. The largest, most decorated, 
 and stately of these, (indeed it is a tomb, 
 and not a mere coffin,) is that of Maria 
 Theresa. He tells you how she caused it 
 to be erected during her life, and liow she 
 was wont to visit and descend into this 
 vault, and pass long hours in it alone, in 
 X 4 
 
312 VIENNA. 
 
 prayer and meditation. Madame de Stael 
 has finely observed upon this : — ^' II y a 
 beaucoup cfexemples d'une devotion serieuse 
 et constante j^ar^Jii les souverains de la terre : 
 comme Us nobeissent qua la mort, son irre- 
 sistible pouvoir les frapjpe davantage, Les 
 difficulih de la vie se placent entre nous et 
 la tombe ; tout est aplani pour les rois 
 jusquau terme, et cela meme le rend plus 
 visible a leurs yeux^'' 
 
 The finest monument in Vienna is that 
 to the memory of the Archduchess Chris- 
 tina, in the church of the Augustines : 
 the work is Canova's. There are no less 
 than eight figures in the composition. As 
 a mere group of statues, a creation of 
 the sculptor, I admired it greatly ; but, as 
 a monumental memorial, I regard it cum- 
 brous and overdone. I should think that 
 the noble and grand simplicity of Canova's 
 taste was compelled to yield to the affection- 
 ate but unfortunate wishes of his employer, 
 who desired a work vast and costly. His 
 noble group of Theseus kilHng the Mino- 
 taur adorns this city, and stands in a temple 
 on the Grecian model, erected on purpose 
 
VIENNA. 313 
 
 to contain it. It is wretchedly placed, in a 
 low situation, near the ramparts : it should 
 stand alone in some park or garden, like the 
 famous Toro Farnese at Naples. 
 
 It is a very great delight at Vienna that 
 the arrangements at the museums, galleries, 
 palaces, and, in fine, at all places, where any 
 thing of interest is exhibited, are the most 
 liberal and convenient. All travellers have 
 remarked, with something of pain and in- 
 dignation, that this city contains no monu- 
 ments of princely or public gratitude to the 
 memory of those great men who have ren- 
 dered services to Austria. In a despotic 
 state such marks of honour can alone be 
 given by the sovereign. Maria Theresa 
 erected a tomb to Marshal Daun, and a 
 monument to the memory of Van Swieten, 
 which last was removed from its place of 
 honour with little regard to her intention, 
 but only, however, to make room for that 
 of an emperor. In the church of the Au- 
 gustines, where Daun reposes, the anniver- 
 sary of the victory of Collin is celebrated by 
 a public Te Deum, on the 18th of June, 
 every year ; and on the 3d of November a 
 
314 VIENNA. 
 
 Requiem is sung here, in the presence of 
 the garrison, to the memory of the Aus- 
 trian soldiers who were slain. Eugene lies 
 entombed in the cathedral of St. Stephen ; 
 and the Emperor Joseph II. placed the 
 busts of Loudon and Lacy, in honour of 
 their services, in the hall of the Council 
 of War. His own equestrian statue is one 
 of the most deserved and gratifying me- 
 morials in this capital. It is of bronze, on 
 a pedestal of granite, and the inscription 
 one that can seldom be applied with truth 
 to any monarch or subject ; but that we 
 know to have been merited by this illus- 
 trious, generous-minded, enthusiatic so- 
 vereign : 
 
 " SALUTI PUBLICiE VIXIT NON DIU SED TOTUS." 
 
 Considering the shortness of his reign, I 
 think it doubtful whether his condemned 
 precipitancy and enthusiasm are to be 
 regretted. Whatever he had attempted 
 against the civil power of the church of 
 Rome, the priest would have worked step 
 by step in counteraction of his measures ; 
 
VIENNA. 315 
 
 whereas he stripped her of immense and 
 irrecoverable influence, when he opened 
 the treasures of her convents, dispersed 
 their wealth, drove forth the corrupt and 
 idle members, and alienated their wide 
 possessions. The half of what he sup- 
 pressed never have been and never can be 
 re-established. Perhaps no one individual 
 of the Austrian empire has more deserved 
 a public monument ; and it is to the credit 
 of his nephew to have erected this statue to 
 his fame. 
 
 In one way it will not excite any great 
 surprise that the public monuments are few, 
 for the great men have been few; and as the 
 nobles of the empire who have, from time 
 to time, distinguished themselves in leading 
 her armies, and fighting her battles, have, 
 in general, been possessed of great wealth, 
 the Palfys and Lichtensteins sleep beneath 
 tombs erected by their own princely 
 houses. 
 
 In leaving Vienna, all that I can say 
 is, that I have seen the city, the popu- 
 lation, and a hundred things, trifles in 
 themselves, but such as no traveller could 
 
316 PRAGUE. 
 
 have described for me, nor could I hope 
 to convey to the mind of any reader, and 
 such as well reward the gazing wanderer. 
 
 It is a great convenience that from this 
 point you may journey to almost any of the 
 principal cities of Germany rapidly and 
 com m odiously. 
 
 There is an eilwagen to Prague, which 
 place you reach in six-and-thirty hours. If 
 there are more passengers than fill the 
 carriages they are conveyed in extra ve- 
 hicles, and the whole proceed by post under 
 the charge of one conductor. 
 
 With the exception of Znaym in Mo- 
 ravia, and Collin in Bohemia, you pass no 
 large towns. The country is well cul- 
 tivated, the villages populous. The pea- 
 sants look not so healthy or handsome as 
 those of Austria Proper, and there are 
 many beggars on the road. There is very 
 little beauty of scenery : mountains, how- 
 ever, are always to be seen in the far dis- 
 tance. You cross many hills, but arrive 
 only on more elevated plains, till, at length, 
 you descend into that vast one, far away in 
 the very bottom of which lies the ancient 
 
PRAGUE. 317 
 
 city of Prague. For the last few miles you 
 run with the collar along a road so wide, that 
 platoons might march upon it with a full 
 front, as doubtless they often have. What 
 is the first and most natural association 
 with Prague in the mind of the English tra- 
 veller ? Why, I will venture to say, — 
 with nine out of ten, aye, and I will not 
 except heads ten times as full and wise as 
 mine, — it is The Battle, Not the battle, as 
 recollected in history, or thought of in po- 
 litical consequence, but that battle which 
 we have heard well or ill played some 
 scores of times in our boyhood. I can re- 
 member, as it were yesterday, though it is 
 five-and-twenty years ago, how often I have 
 stood by the corner of a grand piano, 
 as a little frilled boy, teasing fair girls that 
 were passing into womanhood, to play me 
 " The Battle of Prague;' which I thought 
 at that time a most wonderful composition 
 with its " sound of cannon" — - " rolling of 
 musketry" — " trumpet" — " charge of 
 cavalry" — " galloping of horses" — " clash- 
 inw of swords" — " oroans of the wounded 
 and the dying" — " grand march" — " God 
 
318 PRAGUE. 
 
 save the King ;" — and then that Httle 
 light Turkish music to set all right again 
 in the stirred heart, and send you away a 
 smiling messenger for the rewarding glass 
 of lemonade or orgeat. Of course I went 
 to the memorable field. It was a very cold 
 and cloudy day : the plain looked black 
 in spite of the stubble, and bare and 
 gloomy. All the realities of the after-scene 
 of a general engagement were present to 
 my mind's eye. I could not sing, " Oh, 
 what a glorious thing's a battle !" — " Roll 
 drums merrily, march away," stuck fairly in 
 my throat, and I scarce felt as a soldier 
 ought. to feel, till I came upon the tomb of 
 Marshal Schwerin, a plain, quiet cenotaph, 
 erected in the middle of a wide corn-field, 
 on the very spot where he closed a long, 
 faithful, and glorious career in arms. He 
 fell here at eighty years of age, at the head 
 of his own regiment, the standard of it 
 waving in his hand. Men do ordinarily 
 lean upon their staves in sorrow before that 
 age, or sit feeble in the easy chair, the 
 foot upon the cushioned stool, or clasp 
 with lean and withered fingers a book of 
 
PRAGUE. 319 
 
 prayer. His seat was in the leathern saddle, 
 his foot in the iron stirrup, his fingers 
 reined the young war-horse to the last. It 
 is a something that fills the mind as you 
 muse on it. It would seem like the an- 
 swering of a warrior's prayer, made con- 
 stant through a long life, — so to live, and 
 so to die. 
 
 Prague is a city, which does, in aspect, 
 entirely correspond with the notions you 
 would form of it ; that is, the older parts 
 of the city. The more modern streets are 
 wide and handsome ; but the market-place, 
 the bridge, the fine old Gothic cathedral on 
 the hill, the many towers, and domes, and 
 spires of church and convent, the vast and 
 decaying palaces of the ancient Bohemian 
 nobles, the large public edifices, and the 
 old style of architecture in the private 
 mansions, give a character of grandeur to 
 old Prague, which, to a lover of the pic- 
 turesque, is far more impressive than any 
 view of Vienna. A dozen times the tra- 
 veller will cross and recross the bridge, 
 stained with the grey hue of age, and 
 
320 PRAGUE. 
 
 guarded, as it were, by eight-and- twenty 
 large coarse statues of saints, under whose 
 patronage, you know, the beggar of old 
 was wont to take his stand, and across 
 which the fiercest follower of Wallenstein 
 must have passed unhelmeted, and made the 
 sign of the cross upon his steel cuirass ; and 
 the Jews, too, you know the very kind of 
 step and gait, the bowed head, and the black 
 glance with which they traversed it. No beg- 
 gar accosts you now. The devout Catholic 
 raises his hat, as he passes the crucifix in 
 the centre of the bridge. The Lutheran 
 passes on and away, calm and covered ; 
 and if he is a man of thought, and historical 
 associations cross his mind, while he blesses 
 God for the quiet toleration he enjoys, for- 
 gets not John Huss, and Jerome of Prague. 
 The Englishman reflects, with no less gra- 
 titude, on the memory of the great Wick- 
 lifie, his countryman, and regards the 
 immense power of human influence with de- 
 lighted awe. " How solemn is a residence 
 in this world," when we can trace, through 
 five centuries, and among countless millions. 
 
PRAGUE. 
 
 321 
 
 the effects of what one conscientious priest 
 thought, uttered, and wrote, during a brief 
 human life ! 
 
 The Protestants are not very numerous 
 in Prague; but they are, and from the 
 days of Joseph II. have been, in peace. 
 I did Kttle at Prague but saunter about 
 for three days, in idle pleasure, entering 
 places as the fancy took me. I walked 
 through the stately saloons in the forsaken 
 palace of Wallenstein. The frescoes on 
 the walls are bright as when he trode in 
 them. The vast and magnificent-looking 
 palace of Czerim, which travellers of the 
 last century saw in splendour, is naked, 
 dilapidated, in part quite deserted, and 
 many of its large chambers given up to the 
 houseless poor, who wander about its chill, 
 cold space, as though they were houseless 
 still. 
 
 I heard high mass at the cathedral : the 
 music and singing were of the finest. 
 There is a large silver shrine of their patron 
 saint, Nepomucenus, which has escaped all 
 plunderers, and survived the wars of cen- 
 turies : yet one tower of this very church 
 
 Y 
 
322 PRAGUE. 
 
 lies still in ruins, and recalls the fierce 
 bombardment of the city by Frederick the 
 Great. On the heights above the citadel 
 you may still see the stone where Frederick 
 is recorded to have sat while he reconnoitred 
 the place. The extent of Prague is so 
 great, it would take an army to garrison 
 and defend it. The v/orks are in a ruinous 
 state, nor will they suffer any stranger to 
 ascend the slopes of the 'rampart. The 
 view from the walls of the upper town over 
 the city, with the Moldau flowing broad 
 and freshly through it, is very noble. In 
 the Imperial and archiepiscopal chateaux 
 in this quarter there are many curious old 
 paintings, of interest, but not of merit. 
 The square, in the larger or lower town, 
 has a very ancient aspect, especially the 
 old town-house, and the front of one which 
 was occupied by Tycho Brahe. In this old 
 square is the grand or main guard. I saw 
 it relieved. The men, Bohemian grena- 
 diers, were tall, handsome soldiers. The 
 band, which was of great strength, consist- 
 ing of not less than forty musicians, made 
 a most slovenly appearance, being dressed 
 
'^■''''°"'og 
 
 k-^-^sa 
 
 PRAGUE. ^^-^ 
 
 in great-coats of different ages, shapes, and 
 colours ; and this was the less excusable, 
 as it was a fine, though chilly day. I never 
 saw any thing, in its way, more offensive to 
 a military eye. However, I forgot all while 
 they were playing : tliese Austrian bands 
 would wake the dead. 
 
 In one of the streets of the new town 
 there was exhibiting a panorama of the 
 British expedition to the North Pole. I 
 was bent on an object elsewhere at the mo- 
 ment, or I should certainly have entered, 
 for the pleasure of seeing the fierce Uhlan, 
 who scarce knows there is a sea of ice, or 
 a sea of any kind, or any danger save the 
 melee of squadrons, and the fire of artillery, 
 gazing upon that desolate theatre of daring 
 enterprise. I met one of these Uhlans after 
 I passed it, the pennon waving on his lance. 
 He was admirably mounted, grew to his 
 saddle, and made his horse give that proud 
 play of rear and plunge, which would un- 
 seat better riders than John Gilpin. This 
 long peace will effect wonders in making 
 the nations of Europe better acquainted 
 Y 2 
 
324 PRAGUE. 
 
 with each other, will destroy a thousand 
 petty prejudices, and awaken generous and 
 useful sympathies. In many ways this work 
 is silently going on ; prints and engravings, 
 descriptions and anecdotes in newspapers, 
 small articles of cheap luxury, and of neat 
 finished manufacture ; nay, Warren's black- 
 ing helps : you may buy a bottle, with the 
 label at least, in any large city in Europe ; 
 and this leads me to remark, for the sake of 
 young and particular travellers, that the 
 German Boots, in all the good inns, is own- 
 brother to his English namesake, and far 
 before his cousin in the like station in 
 France or Italy : he will polish a boot for 
 you as if you were going to parade. But 
 to leave these mean topics, there is one re- 
 markable triumph, which, during this pe- 
 riod of tranquillity, has been achieved by 
 genius. The author of Waverley has made 
 a moral conquest of Germany. Here, in 
 old Prague, there was not a bookseller's 
 shop where I did not observe that his works 
 were not only exposed for sale, but pla- 
 carded in the window. The Germans find 
 great fault with the translations which they 
 
PRAGUE. 325 
 
 have of them ; but they say so much beauty 
 rays through the obscurity of those trans- 
 lations, that they are universally read. A 
 German gentleman declared to me that vast 
 numbers of his countrymen liad learned the 
 English language solely for the pleasure of 
 perusing those tales in the original, — a 
 statement borne out by the fact that they 
 are everywhere to be procured in English, 
 and that you repeatedly meet at hotels, 
 coffee-houses, in the theatres, and in public 
 conveyances, young men who speak enough 
 English to show you that they read the lan- 
 guage, and who invariably address you about 
 those novels, and their reputed author; and 
 on more than one occasion I was asked 
 questions as to the meaning of words they 
 could not find in their dictionaries, and 
 which showed that they read with attention 
 and relish. 
 
 They complain that their own literature 
 is little known in England, greatly un- 
 dervalued, and such works as have been 
 translated into English miserably ren- 
 dered. How far they may be right I am 
 not quahfied to form a judgment; but I 
 Y 3 
 
326 PRAGUE. 
 
 should think that the Tale of Sintram must 
 retain in its English dress much of the 
 spirit of its original ; for it certainly has a 
 charm as wild, as original, and as fearful, as 
 ever stirred the imagination of a reader. 
 But one thing confirmatory of the German 
 complaint I know, namely, that the trans- 
 lation of Wallenstein by Mr. Coleridge is 
 not procurable in London, although it 
 needs not to say how such a gentleman 
 would have executed such a task, — a proof, 
 if any were wanting, that their literature is 
 neither known nor regarded among us as it 
 should be. They say it is impossible to 
 translate the Faust. They are probably 
 right ; but it can hardly be considered as a 
 sealed work of genius by those who have 
 read the beautiful version of it we are pos- 
 sessed of. 
 
 I met with several pleasant conversible 
 men at the table of my hotel, and received 
 particular attention from some Austrian 
 officers of rank. I was present at the re- 
 presentation of a piece in the theatre, which 
 was exceedingly well acted ; but there did 
 not appear much in it beyond spectacle : 
 
PRAGUE. 
 
 327 
 
 Tiowever, the heroine, the beauty, the dia- 
 mond, the treasure of this drama, was 
 " eine Englanderin ;" and some Germans 
 near me were full of the great beauty of 
 English women, who enjoy such a fame 
 throughout Germany as might be deemed 
 by many, not by me, extravagant. 
 
 I also heard at this theatre, another 
 night, the opera of Tancredi. The orchestra 
 was perfect. A fhird night I witnessed 
 the performance of the Ahhe de VEpee, 
 Being acquainted with the story, and re- 
 membering John Kemble in the character 
 of the Abbe, I was enabled to follow the 
 actors through their parts, and received 
 the highest ojratification that chaste and 
 natural acting could, in a piece of that 
 class, afford. They admirably understand 
 the stage business, and all that quiet, de- 
 liberate, effective by-play, which does so 
 amazingly increase the interest excited, and 
 give such reality to the ilhision. 
 
 I had instructed my dnmestique de place 
 
 to get me the half of a carriage, or a seat in 
 
 one where the party was a good one. 
 
 " Cela suffit,'' and a bow ; and he soon re- 
 
 Y 4 
 
328 PRAGUE. 
 
 turned boasting of a '^fort belle occasM^ 
 for Dresden. Accordingly, in the morning, 
 having dismissed and settled with him the 
 night previous, I found myself in a most 
 wretched vehicle, dirty and incommodious, 
 with a captain of Austrian hussars, good- 
 looking, but evidently vacant, helpless, and 
 heavy. A soft man, as we should say, had 
 been taken in by this driver, like myself. 
 We moved off at a snail's pace, and very 
 soon, according to my suspicion, pulled up, 
 and the driver went off in search of chance- 
 passengers. I sat patient for awhile, like 
 the man in the Cuckoo, but at last fled, 
 to the astonishment of the phlegmatic 
 Baron, and the disappointment of the 
 driver, who was to have had as much 
 from me as would have been a fair price 
 for the carriage to myself Boots was my 
 friend, ran after the vehicle, and recovered 
 my valise from the driver, who returned in 
 a vain rage to claim me ; and, in another 
 hour, I found for myself, and to myself, at 
 a reasonable rate, a return-carriage, with 
 capital horses and a civil driver, for Toplitz. 
 " Cela suffit,'^ and " Foi^t belle occasion /' — 
 
PRAGUE. 
 
 329 
 
 knowing well those domestiques de 'place, how 
 could I trust to the treacherous phrases ? 
 
 I had a delightful drive, slept at a small 
 village, where I was comfortably accom- 
 modated, and the next day at the place, 
 where 1 refreshed, encountered the carriage 
 I had abandoned. I was amazingly diverted 
 when I learned from the poor Baron, who, 
 with another officer of Austrian cavalry, was 
 just about to sit down to dinner, and whom 
 I immediately joined, that they packed 
 in with him two fat old Jewesses of the 
 lower order, not pleasant or clean in aspect, 
 and who were then feeding in the kitchen. 
 It is true, when first I entered, the Baron 
 trod up and down stately ; and though he 
 bowed, smoked, and would not speak, he 
 soon relaxed, probably from observing an 
 exulting smile in my eye, and made this 
 confession of his fate, which was still to 
 endure for a day and a half: however, he 
 had now the support of a brother-officer. 
 This gentleman was come on leave from the 
 frontiers of Turkey, where his regiment 
 was stationed. He told me that a great 
 change was observable among the Turkish 
 
330 PRAGUE. 
 
 troops on that station. They were by no 
 means the haughty and insolent men re- 
 membered by those officers long ac([uainted 
 with the frontier, but were yielding and 
 conciliatory, and affected the part of " bon 
 ca7narade'' with all the Austrian s near 
 them. With these two officers I had a very 
 long conversation : the one was a man of 
 forty, the other somewhat younger, both 
 captains of cavalry, and all their lives in the 
 service. They could neither of them tell 
 me the strength of the Austrian army, the 
 number of regiments, or the proportion of 
 the respective arms to each other : they 
 tried to guess, and seemed to me quite lost 
 and bewildered by the vain attempt. This, 
 really (though I admit they were not very 
 wise subjects), speaks volumes for the pro- 
 verbial indifference of the Austrian to all 
 arrangements of his government, which do 
 not personally affect him as an indivdual. 
 These were old officers, and knew less 
 about the composition of their army at 
 large than I did, who had just traversed 
 their country, ignorant of their language. 
 Of the Italian levies, of the Tyrolese yagers, 
 
LOWOSITZ. 331 
 
 they knew nothing more than that there 
 were troops of that description, whom they 
 never chanced to have seen, and concerning 
 whom they had never made any particular 
 inquiries. I should certainly add, that I sus- 
 pect both these men were mere " sabreurs,'* 
 and had probably been raised from the ranks, 
 as handsome, clean, steady-duty soldiers : 
 but I often put the same questions to other 
 military men in Austria, and I never got 
 clear answers. After passing a very cheer- 
 ful hour with these officers, I left them to 
 smoke their second pipe, and walked for- 
 ward alone, desiring the carriage to follow 
 me when ready. The name of the place 
 where I had dined was Lowositz, and the 
 hill up which I walked overlooked and 
 formed part of a field, memorable for a 
 very bloody victory, gained by the Prus- 
 sians over a Saxon army in 1756. 
 
 The bright sun of a still afternoon, late 
 in the autumn, was shining mildly over 
 every object. In a vineyard on the slope 
 they were engaged in carrying the last 
 of the vintage, and I met a party of 
 itinerant musicians coming slowly down 
 
332 LowosiTZ. 
 
 the hill, consisting of two elderly men, a 
 boy, and five women, bearing harps. They 
 stopped at my request ; the women took 
 the covers from their harps, and they 
 played and sung for me, with a harmony 
 and a feeling I have often listened for in 
 drawing-rooms in vain. Pleased with my 
 evident contentment, they regaled me for 
 more than a quarter of an hour, " con 
 amore," and sent me forward with such a 
 stock of happiness for the rest of the day as 
 sweet sounds do always give us. These poor 
 women were brown, and weather-beaten as 
 gipsies, yet there was a touch, a turn, a 
 tone of tenderness in every movement 
 which they played, in every air they sung. 
 Bohemia is the land of music. The chil- 
 dren in the villages are taught at school to 
 read the notes of music, like the letters of 
 their alphabet ; and music, where it is not 
 an occupation, is yet the solace of each 
 poor man's life. 
 
 It is certain, I think, that music must 
 soften every heart over which it exercises 
 an habitual influence. It must give a co- 
 louring to the thoughts, a capacity for 
 
TOPLITZ. 333 
 
 those deep reveries which hft man's spirit 
 to the invisible world, and without being 
 conscious of it, he is imperceptibly imbued 
 with all that is indefinably sublime in the 
 mystery of our connection with those sha- 
 dows and intelligences which flit unseen 
 about our path and our bed, and hold 
 communings with our lonely thoughts by 
 day, and with our solitary visions in the 
 nisht-season. Music has been called, I 
 think it is by Madame de Stael, " a glo- 
 rious inutility ;" a proof that it is one of 
 those divine gifts to man, which was de- 
 sifi-ned at once to sweeten our existence on 
 earth, and to elevate our thoughts to heaven. 
 We know, too, that angels sing. We know 
 that through those clouds, which broke in 
 floods of brightness on the shepherds' 
 night, they sung " Glory to God on high, 
 peace on earth, good will towards man !" 
 
 I arrived in the evening at Toplitz. It 
 is a watering place : the season was past, 
 and the town forsaken. The houses are 
 white, the shutters green, the roads well 
 kept. There are some pretty rides, agree- 
 able promenades, and picturesque scenery j 
 
334 , DRESDEN. 
 
 and I should have thought it deho^htful if I 
 could have forgotten Baden-Baden ! 
 
 Dresden I entered by night. There is 
 nothing of the stir or bustle of a capital 
 about it; few carriages are rattling on the 
 stones, but the streets and buildings have 
 regularity, and space, and height, which 
 promise well to the stranger, and he will 
 not be disappointed. 
 
 Every visitor is pleased with the city of 
 Dresden. It is not that the churches are 
 remarkable, or that the palaces are stately, 
 although the dome of the mother-church 
 and the lofty tow^er of the palace are very 
 striking objects, but it is, that there is a 
 general air of freshness, and cleanness, and 
 brightness, all about the city ; that a noble 
 river rolls past it, spanned by a very fine 
 bridge ; that there are two spacious squares 
 or market-places, which have an aspect pe- 
 culiar and quite their own. For, though 
 many travellers have styled Dresden the 
 Florence of Germany, the white mansions 
 and regular fa9ades of Florence, and the 
 red fronts, the forms and shapes of the 
 windows, and of the gables, and house- 
 
DRESDEN. 335 
 
 tops, in Dresden, stamp the cities as widely 
 dissimilar. There is, indeed, one point where 
 a comparison, though not a close one, is 
 allowable : Dresden has its Gallery of Paint- 
 ings, and Hall of Antiquities ; and, if Flo- 
 rence can boast her Medicean Venus, the 
 capital of Saxony, rich in the possession of 
 the very finest Madonna ever conceived 
 or painted by Raphael, may, like that city 
 of the arts, ensure the pilgrimage of all 
 worshippers of genius to her gates. I will 
 first speak of this gallery. Reader, fear 
 not ; I am not going to inflict on you a 
 catalogue of its contents, but the Madonna 
 del Sisto is common right, and I must have 
 my say on it. The composition of the 
 picture is known ; the descriptions of it 
 are multiplied and accessible ; that of the 
 Dresden catalogue is as follows : 
 
 " La Madonne avec I'Enfant divin sur 
 une nue au milieu d'une gloire ; a droiteun 
 St. Pape a genoux ; il est vetu d'une tu- 
 nique blanche et d'un pallium de drap d'or. 
 La tiare est a son cote j a gauche la St. 
 Barbe egalement a genoux, et le regard 
 baisse vers deux petits anges reposant sur 
 
336 DRESDEN. 
 
 un plan au pied de cette composition, aussi 
 sublime que simple." 
 
 The form5the light and airy tread upon the 
 cloud, the grace of her long and flowing gar- 
 ments, the simple and lightly-folded mantle 
 on her head, out of which looks forth a 
 face of sacred innocence, give to this Virgin 
 an air and an aspect that do largely speak 
 of her high and blessed office. The Infant 
 on her arm seems the mysterious Thing it 
 was : it looks not like any child that was, 
 or will be : its hair sits off from its young 
 forehead; and thought, and sorrow, and 
 grief, seem taking there their early seat, 
 and looking gravely from its young eyes. 
 St. Sixtus, an aged and withered figure, 
 kneels in solemn wonder, and imploring 
 adoration, with an intent and upward gaze. 
 Santa Barbara, who has the youth, the 
 beauty, the uncovered hair, the garments 
 of woman as she is in high-born circles, 
 bends her young head to earth as if 
 in sweet rapture, yet subdued with awe. 
 But earth has given the model of this Ma- 
 donna : this is no face of the poet's dream, 
 no face to search for in kings' palaces : it 
 
DRESDEN. 337 
 
 is peasant beauty, — the beauty of a lowly 
 being, — the beauty of innocent thoughts, 
 of hallowed lips, of modesty that grows in 
 the still hamlet, and that the heart's throb 
 acknowledges for something to be loved 
 and worshipped, as above us, far above 
 us, nigher to heaven than earth. Such is 
 to me the character of Raphael's Madonna : 
 it is the lowly handmaiden, the espoused 
 Virgin, chosen to be the mother of a Holy 
 Thing, blessed among women ! It is, at 
 once, all that we should call the ideal of 
 glorified mortality, and all that we know 
 to be real on our earth among those human 
 flowers which blush unseen in quiet places. 
 
 The cherub forms below, of themselves 
 miraculous performances, give the finest 
 possible idea of the angelic mind, — infant 
 in innocence, mighty in comprehension. 
 One rests his head upon his little hand, 
 the other reposes his cheek upon his 
 folded arms ; but oh ! how deeply, sadly 
 serious, is their gaze ! No earthly mind 
 is looking from those eyes ; they have 
 desired to look into the mystery, and 
 they have been permitted so to do. They 
 
338 DRESDEN. 
 
 see that the Child in the Virgin's arms is 
 to be a man of sorrows and acquainted 
 with grief; that he is the Lamb of God, 
 the Redeemer of mankind : wonder, love, 
 and faith, are in their looks. The life and 
 death of Christ, unfolded to their prescient 
 eyes, fill them with compassion ; and there 
 is a something, too, of mourning for man, — 
 the unbelieving and the scorner : — " If 
 thou hadst known, even thou, at least in 
 this thy day, the things which belong unto 
 thy peace ! but now they are hid from 
 thine eyes." 
 
 I never saw any picture in my life so 
 heavenly, so hallowed in its conception 
 as this. This is the true Scripture Virgin, 
 as the meditative Christian might conceive 
 of her, — blessed among, and before, all 
 women ; but still, woman only. 
 
 I heard two criticisms on this master- 
 piece, by artists. The first was from an 
 elderly connoisseur, who stood by my side 
 at one of my repeated visits to it, and ex- 
 claimed, pettishly : " Cest heau ; mais la 
 Sainte Barbare gate tout.'^ The second was 
 from a female amateur, or artist, who was 
 
DRESDEN. 339 
 
 engaged in taking a copy of the St. Cecilia 
 of Carlo Dolce. She was a very fine 
 copyist, a Frenchwoman, a Parisian. In 
 reply to an observation of mine, upon this 
 great chef-cCoeuvre,2LS I leaned over her easel, 
 and was conversing with her on the con- 
 tents of the gallery, she said, " Out, Mon- 
 sieur, c'esf sublime; mais ne trouvez-vous 
 pas que le regard de la Sainte Vierge vous 
 fait frissoner f^ 
 
 A page could not so fully have impressed 
 me with all that in his high inspiration, Ra- 
 phael designed to convey, and has so wonder- 
 fully succeeded in portraying — Fiissoner ! 
 yes, the Parisian belle, in whom the spark 
 of modesty, though dimmed by that tainted 
 atmosphere, has yet never been totally ex- 
 tinguished, may well gaze on the serene 
 majesty which beams with a fixed ray from 
 the eyes of the Madonna de San Sisto, and 
 feel the involuntary chill. 
 
 I must not detain my reader longer in 
 this gallery, although I visited it daily for 
 hours, giving always, however, by far the 
 greater part of the time I lingered in it to 
 the contemplation of this one picture. 
 z 2 
 
340 DRESDEN. 
 
 To have seen, and to have the memory 
 of such a thing present to the mind at 
 will, is an aid in the daily path, a help 
 on the road to heaven. 
 
 There was a grand requiem performed in 
 the Catholic church at Dresden during my 
 stay, in memory of the deceased electors of 
 Saxony : it is annual. I went for the sake 
 of hearing the music of this church, which 
 is celebrated throughout Germany, and to 
 see the royal family. 
 
 I waited in a small antechamber of the 
 palace to see the King of Saxony pass 
 through the gallery, by which he enters his 
 pew. Some guards, habited in scarlet, but 
 in very bad taste, lined the passage. Not 
 being at all prepared by any previous de- 
 scription, I was much surprised to see an 
 elderly gentleman, in a suit of court mourn- 
 ing, with bag and solitaire, ruffles, and a 
 muff, in which, except for some momentary 
 use of them, his hands were kept close and 
 warm. 
 
 There is nothing in this : it was once, 
 and:not very long ago, the fashion through- 
 
DRESDEN. 341 
 
 out Europe ; yet to see such a figure, and 
 to think that it had worn a crown, through- 
 out all the turbulent scenes which have 
 agitated Europe within the last twenty 
 years, and to know that the hand buried in 
 a muff had been grasped with friendliness 
 by that of Napoleon, gave a peculiar interest 
 to the presence of this weak but worthy 
 monarch. 
 
 The music of this church deserves all its 
 fame. The visitor who likes not the sight 
 of violins in a church must turn his head 
 away, and, forgetting they are there, listen 
 only to the sacred harmony : he will not, 
 he cannot, be disappointed. It is true, 
 some pain will mingle with his pleasure. 
 Although the warbles of the most cele- 
 brated vocalist there electrify and thrill, 
 yet there is at times a jar, a break, a failing, 
 as of the giving way of some fine chord ; 
 and you are then affectingly reminded that 
 you are listening to one whose cradle this 
 hateful luxury of Italy has robbed, 
 
 " And ravished thence the promise of a man ;" 
 
 z 3 
 
342 DRESDEN. 
 
 that he is one of those most unhappy of 
 all unhappy beings, who are 
 
 " Cast out from Nature, disinherited 
 
 Of what her meanest children claim by kind." 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 I walked after service to the bridge, and 
 sat long in one of the recesses, enjoying the 
 noble view of the Elbe and the city. In 
 that recess I sat where Napoleon passed 
 three hours, watching the progress of his 
 people as they finished the repairs of the 
 bridge, and the defilement of his troops. 
 A chapter in the account of the campaign 
 of 1813, by Baron Odeleben, a Saxon officer 
 on the staff of the then Emperor, is full of 
 details concerning that extraordinary man, 
 which will be read with interest by every 
 one, and the memory of which, on the spot, 
 gives many and very interesting pictures to 
 the fancy. As a politician, Napoleon did 
 not, certainly, shine during the conferences 
 held at that period ; but, as a General, 
 since his memorable and successive tri- 
 umphs in three closely consecutive battles * 
 
 * Montenotte, Millesimo, Mondovi. 
 
DRESDEN. 343 
 
 in the campaign of 1796, in Italy, by his 
 able application of the principle of central 
 movements (his favourite one), he never 
 appeared to greater advantage than when 
 he repulsed the combined and well-con- 
 certed attack on his position at Dresden. 
 
 The great and constant rival and enemy 
 of Buonaparte perished upon the field of 
 Dresden. We may question the soundness 
 of the judgment which decreed him a monu- 
 ment of honour on that field. The fame 
 of a leader, whose triumphant entry into 
 Augsburg and Munich, after defeating the 
 Archduke Charles, whose yet more glorious 
 retreat through the Black Forest, and whose 
 victory of Hohenlinden will adorn the page 
 of history for ever, needed not that this un- 
 fortunate, though not unaccountable close 
 of his military life, should be thus mis- 
 takenly perpetuated. I did not visit the 
 monument, which I learn, as might have 
 been anticipated, has been desecrated by 
 some scoundrel hand. I say scoundrel, 
 because I suppose the thing to have been 
 done secretly, and in the meanest spirit of 
 vindictive envy. A French battalion, com- 
 z 4 
 
344 DRESDEN* 
 
 posed of men twenty years younger than 
 Moreau, might have been forgiven the open 
 overthrow of the monument Heroic as a 
 public character, estimable as a private one, 
 Moreau had so identified in his own mind 
 the love of France with hatred of Napo- 
 leon, that he forgot how impossible it was 
 for the mass of Frenchmen to look upon 
 him, in the council and the camp of their 
 enemies, with other sentiments than those 
 of indignation, or of sorrow. 
 
 These ends of renowned lives, how 
 strange they are ! In the armoury of Dres- 
 den you may see and grasp the pistols of 
 Charles the Twelfth. There be few English 
 visitors on whose minds the life, the his- 
 tory, and the fate of this hero-monarch are 
 not indelibly stamped, by the nervous 
 lines of Johnson. This armoury of Dres- 
 den would be a most interesting display, 
 were not the rooms so small, and the ar- 
 rangement so wretched, that it is impossible 
 to examine its contents. Here you may 
 hold in your hand the first instrument on 
 which an experiment was made with the 
 newly-invented gunpowder of Schwartz. 
 
DRESDEN. 345 
 
 Here you may see countless suits of ancient 
 armour, and the most splendid horse-furni- 
 ture among them ; the caparison of a horse 
 so costly, that the frontlet, head-stall, neck- 
 ornaments, and breast-platej are entirely 
 studded with large and beautiful turquoises. 
 There are a number of relics of like in- 
 terest; things that are mere nothings in 
 description, but are much to see. The 
 like may be said of the treasures in the 
 Green Vault ; it is a great and rare plea- 
 sure to visit them : — crowns and regalia, 
 rich with the most costly gems ; ancient 
 services of massive embossed plate ; gob- 
 lets and vases of antique forms ; precious 
 enamels ; inlaid cabinets ; the finest camei ; 
 quaint and grotesque toys, made of the 
 coral and the pearl, the topaz and the 
 emerald. Many articles of virtii, of the 
 most curious and ancient workmanship, 
 and some works in ivory, so beautifully 
 carved in relief, that the infant bacchanal, 
 the fair full form of woman, and the withered 
 lines of age, are given with a grace, a truth, 
 and life, which astonish and delight. I am 
 sure I lingered an hour, at least, in the 
 
46 DRESDEN. 
 
 small chamber where the articles in ivory 
 are exhibited. Many of them are the out- 
 sides of goblets, these being lined with a 
 thin plate of gold. There is no catalogue 
 of the contents of this vault, and the ob- 
 jects to be viewed are so numerous and 
 bewildering, that it is impossible, at one 
 visit*, to make notes, or to separate and 
 fix in your mind the things which you may 
 be desirous to remember : but the effect, 
 as a whole, is long thought of, and illus- 
 trates for the curious fancy periods that 
 have passed away. The hall of the throne, 
 the cavalcade of the court, the board of the 
 feast, the chamber, the cabinet of other days, 
 is furnished out from a treasury like this, 
 and you gaze undoubtingly on the past. 
 
 The Dresden china is exhibited in a 
 palace, where, in a long range of chambers, 
 you may trace the rise and. progress of an 
 
 * The attendant there said to me, but not complain- 
 ingly, as I went away, that few visitors, in his remem- 
 brance, had detained him so long. I confess myself 
 delighted with such trifles : — 
 
 " These little things are great to little men." 
 
DRESDEN. 347 
 
 art which furnishes a most innocent and 
 elegant luxury to man, — a luxury which, 
 in degree, is felt throughout society at 
 large. The effect which, I think, is pro- 
 duced on the mind of the middle and 
 humble classes throughout Europe, by the 
 increasing elegance of form and pattern, in 
 most of the articles of China, or humbler 
 ware, now in common use among them, 
 is most civilisino*. There is a something 
 pleasing to the eye, contenting, reconciling, 
 in these trifles ; and if they be elegant they 
 will beget a gentleness in those who daily 
 gaze on them. 
 
 In the same building is the Hall of An- 
 tiquities. I found in the collection a Mi- 
 nerva, and some Vestals, — statues of the 
 very highest class ! The Professor accom- 
 panied me politely round the whole col- 
 lection, and left me, at my request, alone. 
 I enjoy all antiques alone ; and it is only 
 so that I can. I take this to be the case 
 with more travellers than care to own it. 
 A man shows me a coin, (a Ptolemy, for 
 instance,) throws out the flag of antiqua- 
 rianism, spreads abroad the canvass of his 
 learning, and sails away stately upon the 
 
348 DRESDEN. 
 
 ocean of ancient history. Well, the thoughts 
 that are amusing me are those connected 
 with the history of the coin, and the do- 
 mestic manners of past ages ; how it was 
 upon the stone-table of money-changers in 
 Alexandria before Christianity had dawned 
 upon the world ; how it was bought, paid 
 away, given, stolen ; how it was scrambled 
 for by boys, and quarrelled for by men in 
 good poluphloisboio Greek, long centuries 
 ago. It is a liberty to talk thus with you, 
 reader ; but I am fancying myself at dinner 
 with you, and writing as I should speak. 
 
 I was at a concert at Dresden which was 
 very fully attended, and was highly grati- 
 fied. A lady, who performed on the grand 
 piano, made the instrument speak each 
 note with a loud distinct clearness that was 
 quite wonderful. I had no idea before that 
 the powers of the piano were so great. 
 
 At the theatre here I witnessed the per- 
 formance of Herman and Dorothea. It was 
 got up and given perfectly. The house was 
 crowded : you might have heard a pin drop ; 
 and nothing could be acted with a more 
 natural, yet animated simplicity, than this 
 interesting pastoral. 
 
DRESDEN. 349 
 
 The German theatre is, apparently, as 
 free from bad female company as a private 
 assembly ; or if they do venture there, it is 
 under that concealment of dress and de- 
 meanour which forbids even a suspicion of 
 their character. Would it were so with the 
 theatres in England ! However, the moral 
 aspect of the Dresden streets, after sunset, 
 is bad enough ; worse, certainly, for the 
 size of the city, than that of Vienna. 
 
 There is an excellent reading-room at 
 Dresden, where are the English papers, the 
 English reviews, and Germans attentively 
 reading them. " It is a great advantage 
 to us Germans," a gentleman observed to 
 me, in French, " that we are forced to 
 make ourselves acquainted with the lan- 
 guages of other nations, because we do not 
 expect foreigners, however well educated, 
 to be acquainted with ours, or to care 
 about the study of it ; and yet," he said, 
 " we are rich in original thinkers, and in 
 good writers, and have had the great ad- 
 vantage of studying, not only the finest 
 models in ancient times, but the finest 
 which Italy, France, and England, have 
 
350 LEIPSIC. 
 
 produced." It is pleasant to read in a 
 German casino, it is so very still. Their 
 eyes drink in the page before them with a 
 silent eagerness, and at the too near ap- 
 proach or the stir they glare at you re- 
 provingly. 
 
 After six delightful days in Dresden, I 
 took the eilwagen to Leipsic. The journey 
 is made most pleasantly in a day. You 
 leave Dresden at seven in the morning, 
 and reach Leipsic at four in the afternoon. 
 Our party consisted of a very fine young 
 officer of riflemen, a young Russian, a stu- 
 dent of Halle, a little fiery Saxon, domi- 
 ciled at Paris, and myself. The road to 
 Meissen is beautiful : the majestic Elbe 
 flows calmly by your side, and rock, wood, 
 and verdure, adorn its banks with all that 
 can give a pleasing variety to river-scenery. 
 From Meissen to Leipsic there is less to 
 interest the eye ; but the conversation was 
 so animated, that I was heartily sorry when 
 we reached our journey's end, and se- 
 parated to our respective homes and hotels. 
 If Germany has many such young officers^ 
 and if her universities, with all his wild- 
 
LEiPsrc. ' 35 1 
 
 ness, have many such students, she may 
 be proud indeed. These young men were 
 ready upon every subject, generous and en- 
 hghtened upon all ; and yet, I do believe 
 that the cap, the hair, and the pipe of the 
 student, the moustache of the youthful sol- 
 dier, would have caused many a most kind, 
 quiet Englishman to have shrunk from 
 conversing with fellow-passengers, whose 
 exterior promised so little to reward the 
 trouble. The German youth have a solidity 
 of thought, and sincerity of heart, which co- 
 lours all their conversation on subjects of a 
 deep moral interest. They are largely tole- 
 rant on religious matters ; not as some have 
 unfairly forced the inference, from indif- 
 ference to religion, but from a holding fast 
 of what is essential in it, and declining all 
 controversy, all bitterness, and quarrelling 
 about the rest. 
 
 The Roman Catholic of Germany is un- 
 like any of that great family elsewhere. 
 The Calvinist and the Lutheran love each 
 other as Christians: all are inclined to 
 mysticism in some slight degree, save the 
 Rationalists, who are as inconsiderable in 
 
352 LETPSIC. 
 
 numbers as they are uninfliiential on the 
 mind of the public at large. The school of 
 the Rationalists * has not been without its 
 use ; for man never appears so weak, so 
 helpless, so ridiculous, as when he lights 
 the feeble taper of his reason to examine 
 and pronounce upon the credibility of those 
 facts related, and those mysteries revealed 
 to us in the Bible. " To live, and move, 
 and have our being," a miracle to our- 
 selves, and among created miracles of every 
 
 * I have read, with deep attention, a volume of Ser- 
 mons, by the Rev. Mr. Rose, of Trinity College, Cam- 
 bridge. I merely would ask, as a query, whether " The 
 State of Protestantism in Germany " be a fair title for 
 the book of that learned gentleman ? To the mind of 
 many readers, after a most careful perusal of the Notes 
 appended to it, it will appear not fair. The lectures 
 and discourses that gentleman heard in Germany, the 
 cities and churches he visited, the congregations he 
 observed in public, and the Christians whom he met 
 in private, should have been given in that Appendix ; also 
 tables of the Protestant population, distinguishing the 
 acknowledged profession and tenets of the different per- 
 suasions ; and the numbers in each church or sect, as far 
 as they could be ascertained, should have been added to 
 the list of those controversial works, which are, perhaps, 
 less highly valued in Germany than he may imagine. 
 
LEipsic. 353 
 
 possible variety ; to find our reason baffled 
 by the first pebble we pick up beneath our 
 feet, all the properties of which we can 
 most scientifically describe, but of the es- 
 sence of which we know nothing ; and then 
 to explain away the less wonderful miracles 
 of Scripture, because our reason refuses 
 credit to them, is a something so palpably 
 absurd, that even the patient, inquiring 
 German could not listen to such lectures 
 long if they did not sooner drive him forth 
 by inflicting a severe wound in his heart. 
 I was present in the great church of Leipsic 
 at the administration of the sacrament. 
 The communicants stood in long files, and 
 advanced reverentially towards the altar; 
 they received the holy elements standing, 
 and passing round the altar, again rejoined 
 the congregation. The congregation, whe- 
 ther composed of those who were about 
 to communicate, or had done so, or of 
 those who merely assisted at the ceremony, 
 sung a hymn or hymns throughout the 
 whole service. After deducting largely for 
 the effect produced on me by the sweet and 
 solemn singing of this assembled multitude, 
 
 A A 
 
354 LEipsic. 
 
 and by the black skull-cap, the ancient 
 ruffs, (like those of our Elizabethan era,) 
 and the reverend aspect of the officiating 
 ministers, I certainly was impressed, and 
 that strongly, with the feeling and sincere 
 devotion of the communicants. We kneel 
 at the altar, another church sits at the 
 communion-table, these stand and sing a 
 hymn : we all do it in remembrance that 
 Christ died for us, and he knows in all 
 these congregations those who are his, 
 those who feed on Him in their hearts with 
 thanksgiving. 
 
 The Sabbath-aspect of Leipsic was still 
 and decorous. The people walk about on 
 the promenades well dressed and quietly ; 
 and were it not that there is a theatre open 
 in the evening, you might take it for one of 
 our large towns at home. 
 
 I drove to the memorable field of Lutzen. 
 There, by the road-side, beneath four spiral 
 poplars, which rise monumentally above 
 some rude stones bedded in the earth in the 
 form of a cross, is the spot where Gustavus 
 Adolphus, the great champion of the Pro- 
 testant faith, fell covered with wounds amid 
 
LEiPsic. 355 
 
 Croatian plunderers. The Swedish horse 
 fought fiercely to recover his mangled and 
 breathless body. Glorious in life, con- 
 sistent and glorious in death, the morning 
 saw him on his knees fervent in prayer, as 
 if every thing depended on God j the day 
 beheld him spurring his noble charger into 
 the heat of every danger, as if all depended 
 on his single prowess. Wounded by two 
 balls he fainted in his saddle, was thrown 
 from his horse, and breathed his last, with- 
 out one attendant, beneath the trampling 
 melee of foes and friends. Peace to the 
 Christian hero, who fought and fell for 
 Jiherty of conscience ! Be it never forgotten 
 that this it was which the church of Rome 
 denied to, and denies the world; and which 
 the victorious Protestants of Germany, after 
 thirty years of warfare and blood, have 
 never yet denied to their fellow-countrymen 
 of the church of Rome. 
 
 The initials of the monarch's name are 
 inscribed on a rough upright stone in the 
 centre of the cross, and on another, " Gus- 
 tavus Adolphus, King of Sweden, fell here 
 for Liberty of Conscience." 
 
 A A 9. 
 
356 LEipsic. 
 
 In the arsenal at Vienna I saw the buff 
 war-coat in which he died. To preserve 
 the stones on his grave, and the trees near, 
 from the destroying knives of pilgrims, 
 there is a post and block of wood, erected 
 for the very purpose of satisfying the 
 strange, yet natural desire of man to com- 
 memorate, it matters not how perishably, 
 his visit to such a spot. This wood is 
 covered with letter upon letter, till neither 
 names or initials are very easily decipher- 
 able. I gathered a green leaf from one of 
 the rustling poplars, gazed long upon the 
 spot, walked all about the scene of that sad 
 tragedy, and drove back to Leipsic. It 
 was along this road that Wallenstein led 
 back his discomfited forces, and caused Te 
 X)eum to be sung for a victory, which was 
 claimed, and with greater reason, by the 
 Swedes. It was along this road that the 
 ferocious Pappenheim * was borne, de- 
 
 * On his forehead two red streaks were perceptible, 
 with which nature had marked him at his birth. These 
 appeared, whenever in a passion, even in his later years. 
 Schiller'' s History of the Thirty Years' War. 
 
LEiPSic. 357 
 
 daring, in the agonies of death, that he 
 died with pleasure, since he was certain 
 that the most implacable enemy of his re- 
 ligion had perished on the same field. 
 
 The account of this obstinate and san- 
 guinary contest is given in " The History 
 of the Thirty Years' War," by Schiller, with 
 wonderful animation. We stand with the 
 historian and the poet upon the very field ; 
 we see the devotions of the Swedish army, 
 listen to their hymn, hear the sound of 
 their trumpets. We can follow the King 
 to his very fall ; and the terrible fierceness 
 of the combatants, after the death of Gus- 
 tavus was known, is present to the eye. 
 Cannon were taken and retaken ; whole 
 regiments lay dead on their ground ; Count 
 Piccolomini had seven horses shot under 
 him ; Wallenstein rode safe amid the death- 
 shower, as if he bore a charmed life; 
 darkness alone put an end to the battle, and 
 the trumpet of victory was sounded in 
 either camp. 
 
 The appearance of the city of Leipsic is 
 to me pleasing, and has a character in it. 
 
 AA 3 
 
358 LEiPsic. 
 
 The square and two or three of the streets 
 have a something stately and ancient in 
 their aspect. 
 
 At Leipsic, the great mart for books, I 
 had looked for a greater display than else- 
 where in the shops of the booksellers, but 
 this was far from being the case. There is 
 no such comforting sight in the whole town 
 as the inner or upper apartments of a coun- 
 try bookseller in England do often present. 
 The place has only its own proportion of 
 printers and publishers ; and to judge from 
 two English works I saw lately got up in 
 Leipsic, I should say nothing could be 
 more coarse and wretched than the paper, 
 the types, the ink, and the binding of these 
 volumes. 
 
 It is, I think, to be regretted that the 
 Germans will not adopt the Roman letters 
 in the publication of their own works. I 
 am sure that it would greatly tend to spread 
 the knowledge of their language ; and that 
 it would not only facilitate their own stu- 
 dies in the various languages of Europe, 
 but would open wider the door of inter- 
 course between Germany and England 
 
LEiPSic. 359 
 
 more especially. It is a fond attachment 
 to their father-land, and to every thing 
 which their fathers have handed down to 
 them, that accounts for this abiding pre- 
 judice. But surely, speaking of the nations 
 of Europe now, as one great family of bro- 
 thers at peace, the one should yield to the 
 many. I am sure that I am not mistaken 
 in pronouncing the German character, both 
 as printed and written, a repellant to many 
 minds of power and cultivation ; and that 
 where in England we should have two 
 hundred men who would read German in 
 the Roman character, we now have not 
 two. It enters not into the early studies of 
 any English youth to learn German. This 
 must be a pursuit of his choice, an acqui- 
 sition of his manhood ; and by that time 
 he has generally contracted such a love of 
 the matter of any thing he may design to 
 read, that he is impatient of any such bar 
 to his eye's glance as a character to which 
 he has never been accustomed, and some of 
 the letters of which have a bewildering 
 resemblance to each other in the eye of the 
 beginner. 
 
 A A 4 
 
360 LEIPSIC. 
 
 There are pleasing promenades all about 
 the town of Leipsic. The Plassenbourg is 
 a fine old citadel ; — small, but the masonry 
 of it solid, black, and picturesque. There 
 is a botanical garden not far from the gates : 
 it is open to the public. There are plea- 
 sant walks, prettily placed seats, summer- 
 houses, and a well fancied Chinese temple 
 with bells that jingle in the wind ; a nar- 
 row inconsiderable stream runs at the bot- 
 tom of this pleasure-ground ; and in the 
 midst of the garden is a fair green space, 
 where some large and beautiful willows 
 droop mournfully over a white cenotaph, 
 erected to the memory of Poniatowski, the 
 last of the Poles. The rivulet near, an 
 obstacle which has scarce depth and width 
 enough to stay a well-mounted fox-hunter, 
 is the fatal Elster. Here sunk horse and 
 rider; here sunk hundreds of the flying 
 soldiery of France; and slaughter was busy 
 all about this green bank, where, never- 
 theless, the primrose has often since spread 
 as sweetly as ever, and the lily gay has 
 shone up pure and innocent, as though the 
 world were so, and might be trusted. 
 
LEIPSIC. 361 
 
 Heavens ! how man mars this green and 
 flowery earth we tread upon ! and how 
 proud is he of his poHuting lordship over 
 it ! I often think of that sweet ballad, 
 " The Cruel Brother ; or, The Bride's Testa- 
 ment*," and the wild burden that runs all 
 through it. There you have the world of 
 nature, and the world of man, as awfully 
 and mournfully contrasted as they ever 
 were by poet. Youth, beauty, love, blushes, 
 gay attire, wedlock, murder, and the winding 
 sheet; these shift rapidly before you, yet 
 there is nature, constant, gay, sweet, un- 
 changing. 
 
 I think, and I rejoice to think, that the 
 world has grown somewhat wiser about the 
 sad and melancholy game of war. My own 
 feelings were always alive to the miseries it 
 
 * A FRAGMENT OF THE BALLAD. 
 
 " She lean'd her o'er the saddle bow, 
 With a heigh-ho ! and a hly gay, 
 To give him a kiss ere slie did go, 
 As the primrose spreads so sweetly. 
 
 " He has ta'eii a knife baith lang and sharp, 
 With a heigh-ho ! and a lily gay, 
 And stabbed the bonny bride to the heart. 
 As the primrose spreads so sweetly." 
 
262 LEiPSic. 
 
 brings in its train, and yet of such incon- 
 sistencies are we all made up, that I confess 
 to the having experienced feelings of con- 
 tentment, joy, and pride, in the camp and 
 the bivouac, which I may look for again, 
 perhaps, in vain. There is such an absence 
 of care under your canvass-home, that shifts 
 at the trumpet's sound, such pleasures in 
 the night of lonely watchfulness, such 
 health and lightness in the early march, 
 such a proud exciting throb, such high 
 hope, — 
 
 " When front to front the bannei-'d hosts combine. 
 Halt ere they close, and form the dreadful line, 
 When all is still on death's devoted soil." 
 
 For these emotions, many who regard 
 glory as a bright and bursting bubble, 
 consent to wear the sword, and learn to 
 love it. 
 
 Never, however, I well remember, did I 
 curse war more heartily than when, in the 
 winter of 1813, I saw baggage- waggon after 
 baggage-waggon pass through Verdun, laden 
 with pale and sickly French boys, who re- 
 turned wounded and debilitated from this 
 
POTSDAM. 
 
 363 
 
 field of Leipsic, and marked among tliem 
 young lads of gentle birth (the Garde 
 cCHonneur), who had been torn from the 
 quiet home reluctantly, to combat against 
 the huge and hardy German cuirassiers; 
 and again I felt the like pain when, at a 
 later period of the war, I saw a battalion of 
 young and beardless children march out of 
 Troyes, shouting, from school-boy pride, 
 the usual cry of " Vive rEmpereur /" but 
 guessing, perhaps, themselves, what their 
 dejected officers well knew, that they were 
 but as lambs going to the sacrifice. 
 
 I am o-lad to have seen Potsdam, the 
 cradle and school of those military tactics, 
 and that discipline, of which Frederick the 
 Great was the father. It is a barrack still : 
 in the yard of the palace recruits are still 
 tortured by the drill-serjeant ; and on every 
 side you see squads of instruction, and stiff 
 figures, moving slowly to the balance-step, 
 marching, facing, wheeling, and dressing, 
 under smart and severe instructors. I was 
 surprised, however, to witness, at the guard- 
 mounting, something most informal and 
 unmilitary. Just before the last call of 
 
>t4 
 
 ^ 
 
 364 POTSDAM. 
 
 assembly, which brought out the com- 
 mandant and all the officers of the garrison^ 
 the adjutant, or town-major, who had al- 
 ready inspected the guards, wheeled them 
 back, and marched them past, drums beat- 
 ing and drum-major saluting, giving, in 
 fact, a regular rehearsal of the grand guard- 
 mounting, on the very ground, and within 
 three minutes of the appearance of the 
 commander and the usual mounting of the 
 duties. The Prussian soldiers are certainly 
 magnificent young men : if they have a 
 fault, as soldiers, it is that, as a body, they 
 are far too young ; but they, are very hand- 
 some, very erect, and clean-limbed : their 
 clothing (blue) is admirably made, and 
 most becoming. They are clean and smart 
 under arms, and steady as a wall. Still it 
 is my opinion, and I attentively watched 
 their system of drill in many places, that 
 we in England have just struck upon the 
 happy medium. The laxness of field-dis- 
 cipline in France makes the French sol- 
 dier unsteady on parade, and, placing no 
 habitual check upon the eager restlessness 
 of his character, causes him to be often 
 
rOTSDAM. 
 
 365 
 
 dangerously self-willed and insubordinate 
 in the field of battle. The severity, on the 
 contrary, of German * discipline makes and 
 leaves the soldier a mere machine, to ad- 
 vance or retreat, charge, fire, stand, or even 
 fly, unhesitatingly, when ordered, and only 
 when ordered. 
 
 I saw not such a thing on the continent 
 of Europe as what we call, and my military 
 reader will understand me, a saucy English 
 light company, or any thing resembling 
 those true old English grenadiers who 
 could all sing the old song, with its noisy 
 tow, row, rows, in harsh and happy chorus. 
 These be the men, and this was the free 
 spirit and feeling which, controlled and 
 guided by a firm judicious hand that knew 
 when to check the rein, and when to give 
 the head, won for England her laurels. 
 
 * It is remarkable that the Prussians never fought 
 better than during their " Liberation War," as they 
 proudly and justly term it, in 1813, 1814; yet were 
 their troops of that time, in all circumstances of com- 
 position, drill, and military order, inferior to what they 
 had been, and what they are. 
 
366 POTSDAM. 
 
 Repeatedly I saw on the Continent troops 
 of most warlike, brave, and martial ap- 
 pearance ; but I always felt the truth of 
 our ambassador's reply to Frederick : — 
 " Think you an equal number of English 
 soldiers could be found to beat those men ?" 
 — pointing to the elite of his famous guard, 
 an elite composed of men of all nations 
 remarkable for their fine stature, their 
 discipline, and their prowess, — said the 
 monarch. " Sire, I cannot answer you ; 
 but I am sure that half the number would 
 try." — That was, is, and will, I hope, ever 
 be the character of British soldiers in the 
 field. " Dare greatly, do greatly," is a 
 glorious motto. 
 
 You cannot deny that Potsdam is a hand- 
 some town ; but yet it does not please : it 
 is too regular, too tame ; it looks like a 
 place ordered to be built, and built to order. 
 No private taste has been consulted, no 
 private taste has been permitted to exhibit 
 itself The people at Potsdam, be they 
 rich or poor, live in handsome barrack- 
 rooms ; and, when they put their heads 
 
POTSDAM. ^^^ 
 
 out of the window, may look up and down 
 straight, stately, still streets. 
 
 I went into the church of the court and 
 the garrison, to see the tomb of Frederick 
 the Great. It is in a kind of cell or cham- 
 ber, — plain black marble, unadorned. I 
 had thought, and I have for these twenty 
 years, that the inscription on his tomb was, 
 " Hie Cineres uhique Fama ;" but I did not 
 find any thing save his name. However, 
 his fame is every where; and it would 
 seem that the Prussians are content to live 
 on it, for it is ever in their mouths ; it is all 
 Frederick le Grand, The history, the an- 
 cestral dignity, the military renown of Prus- 
 sia, centre in his name. 
 
 Sans Souci is a strange name for a palace ; 
 yet here, whatever freedom from care Fre- 
 derick could know he enjoyed. It is a 
 most sensible building, combining the com- 
 forts of a private dwelling, and the magni- 
 ficent appendages of a royal residence. 
 Nothing can be more quiet, more simple, 
 indeed, even to a tasteless plainness, than 
 the apartments of the king. Notliing 
 can be more luxurious than the splendid 
 
:>^< 
 
 368 POTSDAM. 
 
 double portico ; and a finer gallery for the 
 display of his well-chosen collection of 
 pictures could hardly have been desired. 
 He had a small, still, circular study, filled 
 with his favourite authors, — a shady walk 
 in his garden for the thoughtful hour. 
 The graves of his dogs, the only favourites 
 he had the weakness to affect a fondness 
 for, were close to his terrace ; arid- he was 
 within sound of the parade-horn, a circum- 
 stance as important to him as to the young- 
 est subaltern in his guards. 
 
 Was he a happy man this Frederick ? I 
 could never think so : he was coldly great : 
 severely just in his internal government, 
 but to this his sense of justice was strangely 
 limited. History refuses the title (and a 
 sacred one it is) of Just, to the partitioner of 
 Poland. Was he happy? — the man who 
 smiled at religion, smiled at virtue, smiled 
 before a battle, and smiled on the carnage- 
 covered field ! I think not ; but he made 
 Prussia a kingdom, gave her promotion in 
 the scale of nations, and she naturally 
 reveres his memory as her greatest be- 
 nefactor. 
 
POTSDAM. 369 
 
 The anecdotes of his private life have a 
 great charm for readers, especially the 
 young, and are more familiar, indeed, to 
 the biography-devouring boy than to the 
 older man. We most of us remember when 
 we thought him the greatest character that 
 ever lived ; to have such power, and to 
 live simply, as though he had it not, sounded 
 so noble ! — but all this I regard as mere 
 taste, a good one, perhaps, yet nothing but 
 the strong bent of his will and inclination. 
 He had a quick and restless mind, which 
 fretted with impatience under a want of 
 occupation ; and hence these methodical 
 divisions of his day, and his hurrying from 
 business to amusements, which were pur- 
 sued with the like eagerness for the allotted 
 time. The portrait of Gustavus Adolphus 
 hangs in his bed-room, — a hero of another 
 and a nobler quality : but Frederick was the 
 more wonderful man ; and it is felt as a 
 privilege to walk about where he did, open 
 the books in which he read, sit in his chair, 
 look from his window, and touch the small 
 chamber-clock, which, they tell you, has 
 
 B B 
 
370 POTSDAM. 
 
 never again been wound up since the hour 
 of his death. 
 
 No traveller fails to visit the chamber 
 appropriated to Voltaire, while he resided 
 with the King. It is remote, that is, nearly 
 at the extremity of the building, and fur- 
 nished in the commonest French taste of 
 that day,— a strange mixture of tawdriness 
 and meanness. Voltaire is one of those 
 great geniuses, to whom Providence has 
 denied that best, that only, that pure fame, 
 the love of posterity. I never heard the 
 most extravagant admirer of Voltaire pre- 
 tend any affection for the personal cha- 
 racter of the author. He never succeeded 
 in attaching the heart of a reader : he was 
 just the man for Frederick, who looked 
 only to the head in others, and thought 
 only of the head in his own person. 
 
 His Gallery of Paintings was a noble one. 
 There are so many ways of choosing, enjoy- 
 ing, and speaking about paintings, that we 
 must understand what the possessor's pe- 
 culiar taste was, before we give him the 
 credit of the collection. The Vertumnus 
 
POTSDAM. 371 
 
 and Pomona of Leonardo da Vinci, the 
 " Ecce Homo" of Raphael, the Sleeping 
 Venus of Titian, are considered the three 
 master-pieces of this gallery. Nothing can 
 be more opposed, each to the other, in sub- 
 ject as in style, than these three paintings. 
 For my own part, I confess that I gazed 
 with much higher satisfaction on some 
 of the wonderful conceptions of Rubens, 
 and some of the very hallowed and pure 
 productions of Vandyke. The Isaac bless- 
 ing Jacob of this last painter is a perfect 
 picture ; and there is a pendant to it by an 
 artist, whose name has dropped out of my 
 mind, of Isaac blessing Esau, of which the 
 aifecting expression is such that the quick 
 judgment of the heart at once pronounces 
 it a treasure. The new palace is a fine 
 building, and exactly adapted for summer 
 fetes. I cannot myself admire the hal], 
 the walls of which are encrusted with spars 
 and crystals. This strange mosaic is to 
 me intolerable by the light of day, in a spa- 
 cious and lofty saloon ; it suits only with 
 the shaded grotto, hollowed beneath the 
 rock. The apartments are richly furnished, 
 
 B B 2 
 
372 BERLIN. 
 
 — and it is altogether a princely pleasure- 
 house. 
 
 It is only four German miles from Pots- 
 dam to Berlin. I drove through long, 
 strait, uniform streets, intersected at right 
 angles by others of like appearance. I 
 crossed some portion of the city that had 
 rather a graver and older (but never an- 
 cient) aspect, passed the great palace, 
 crossed a bridge, and found myself in a 
 most noble imposing street, between the 
 finest and most majestic public edifices of 
 this capital. The Brandenburgh gate, by 
 which this fine street is entered from the 
 west, is a very grand object ; it is an imi- 
 tation of the Propylasum of Athens, and is 
 surmounted by a triumphal car, drawn by 
 four spirited horses, the Goddess of Victory 
 standing erect in the chariot, and display- 
 ing the dark eagle of Prussia. Extending 
 about half the length of this wide street is a 
 spacious promenade, planted with lime- 
 trees and horse-chesnuts. This splendid 
 quarter of Berlin is called, from the size 
 and beauty of the former, Untei' den Linden. 
 
BERLIN. 373 
 
 Near this I sojourned, in a most comfortable 
 hotel, called the City of Rome. 
 
 Certainly the whole of this scene has in 
 it so much of grandeur and majesty, that 
 you would expect to see splendid equi- 
 pages rolling by in constant succession, 
 and the wide space divided between rapid 
 carriages passing each other, in the safe 
 arena prepared for them. 
 
 It is not so : you may gaze from your 
 window for an hour; as long may you 
 stand near the magnificent portal at the 
 Brandenburgh gate, — you will not see 
 half-a-dozen carriages in motion. Take the 
 hour of the day when they drive out for 
 the promenade, on the road to Charlotten- 
 burgh, perhaps a dozen or twenty private 
 carriages may, at long distances and inter- 
 vals, be seen. The vehicles for the convey- 
 ance of the public from one quarter of the 
 city to the other are small open carriages, 
 on four wheels, with a hood, and drawn by 
 one horse, having that high wooden collar 
 which belongs, in your fancy, to the sledge 
 of St. Petersburgh. Such are the more fre- 
 quently passing objects in this street of 
 
 B B 3 
 
374 BERLIN. 
 
 palaces, — such the carriages that ply in a 
 stand close to the first hotel in Berlin. 
 There is yet another feature connected 
 with them very peculiar : the drivers of 
 these sorry conveyances are all neatly 
 dressed in a livery of grey, with hats sur- 
 mounted by the cockade, and are altogether 
 far more cleanly and respectable in their 
 appearance than the hackney-coachmen of 
 either London, Paris, or Vienna. The 
 reader will probably infer from this trifle, 
 with myself, that Berlin is regulated like a 
 barrack : for, indeed, all the regulations 
 which fall under the observation of the 
 stranger bespeak a good vigilant interior 
 economy, of the military cast. As to the 
 city, it seems built upon expectation that 
 Prussia will some day or other require such 
 a metropolis, and will, when she has made 
 her fortune, provide all things conformable 
 to the great and extravagant design of the 
 builder. 
 
 Will a northern conqueror ever drive 
 under the triumphal gate of Brandenburgh? 
 The scene is well adapted to a victorious 
 entry : a Russian army might halt, and 
 
BERLIN. 375 
 
 find space for its columns between that gate 
 and the royal palace of Prussia. The noble 
 and generous patriotism displayed by the 
 Prussians, in their " Liberation War," has 
 received, perhaps, something of a check, by 
 the jealousy with which the government 
 watches over that spirit in her youth to 
 which she owes, and to which she should 
 ever remember that she owes, her political 
 existence ; all that makes it valuable was, 
 in reality, forced upon the crown of Prussia 
 by the voice and the deed of the nation. 
 
 Frederick the Great would have frenchi- 
 fied his good subjects, had it been possible : 
 they were reluctant, and slow to learn the 
 lesson. The war of the Revolution, and 
 the victories and injuries of Napoleon, 
 who violently outraged all their feelings, 
 totally effaced the faint traces of French 
 taste and French principles, which Fre- 
 derick had but lightly engraven on the 
 mind of his subjects. They lay breathless 
 for the opportune moment to declare them- 
 selves true Germans ; and they nobly tri- 
 umphed. They are now animated by a 
 haughty, I should almost say a vain, spirit : 
 B B 4 
 
376 BERLIN. 
 
 but it is not like what we should call patriot- 
 ism. I should say that every Prussian feels 
 a sort of esprit de corjjs : they drink the 
 anniversary of victories ; and they forget 
 that they ever have been vanquished. It 
 was impossible to suppress a smile, in 
 walking through the magnificent Saloon of 
 Arms in their arsenal, to see, at every yard, 
 a clean new French banner suspended, 
 things not taken in the field, but of all ages, 
 dates, and belonging to all descriptions of 
 corps, brought from Paris, as trophies of 
 their two visits. However, they may be 
 largely forgiven any insult to the French 
 arms ; for never did Napoleon appear to 
 the eyes of the world so little, so jealous, so 
 vindictive, as in his treatment of Prussia, so 
 coarse and unknightly as in his mean and 
 offensive conduct to her patriot queen. 
 
 One effect of this spirit among the Prus- 
 sians is, that, although French is uni- 
 versally read and spoken by all their 
 educated men, they have entirely discarded 
 the use of it in conversation, and can with 
 difficulty be induced to speak it, even 
 where common courtesy to the foreigner 
 
BERLIN. 377 
 
 might excuse their departure from a reso- 
 lution, the maintaining of which they seem 
 to identify both with personal and na- 
 tional dignity. It requires a little ma- 
 noeuvre to make them talk. I found one, 
 which a laughing friend had given me, 
 never failing in its success : — when asked 
 if you speak German, to say " No ; I am 
 sorry to say I do not; but I regret it the less 
 as I well know the Germans to be a highly 
 educated people, and all those whom I should 
 feel most desirous to become acquainted with 
 doubtless converse fluently in the French 
 language." This made provokingly short, 
 or politely and flatteringly lengthened, ac- 
 cording to tlie party, invariably drew them 
 out : the foreheads rose, the very mus- 
 taches relaxed a something of their pride, 
 and, on all sides, French was poured forth, 
 if not with a very pleasing pronunciation, 
 still, in general, with a great command of 
 languao-e. 
 
 to o 
 
 I only remained six days in Berlin. All 
 things which the traveller is directed to, as 
 worthy his attention, I visited. Tlie palace, 
 the arsenal, the museum, and a fine col- 
 
378 BERLIN. 
 
 lection of pictures *, whicli have not yet 
 been conveniently placed, but are to be 
 disposed in a handsome building pre- 
 paring for them and such others as are to 
 form the National Gallery. I suppose, and 
 I almost regret to think, that the collection 
 at Sans Souci will be removed from its 
 admirable locale there, to adorn the capital. 
 The theatres at Berlin are most beautiful : 
 I visited them all. The large Opera-house 
 is magnificent : I saw a tragedy represented 
 there. I was by no means so pleased with 
 the performers as with those of Vienna; 
 but it is fair to add, that the piece did not 
 excite in me the like interest, nor could I 
 follow the subject through. Nevertheless, 
 I boldly pronounce them inferior actors to 
 those of Vienna ; for when I cannot catch 
 the author I look attentively at the stage, 
 as I would at a great picture, and at all 
 those passages, where in every drama 
 effective situations occur, my eye seldom 
 fails to satisfy me whether the actor is 
 true. The new theatre, which is smaller, 
 
 * Among these, the Marriage of St. Katharine, by 
 Julio Romano, is, to my taste, a most exquisite production. 
 
BERLIN. 379 
 
 is very elegant and commodious. In an- 
 other theatre, also a very good sized and 
 convenient one, I was present at the per- 
 formance of Cenerentola. The house was 
 crowded to excess, and the orchestra was 
 superlatively good. At the breaking up, 
 the delay caused by the carriages enabled 
 me as thoroughly to see a large portion 
 of the society of Berlin as a foreigner 
 might, who should stand on a Saturday 
 night, in May, in the crush-room at our 
 Opera-house in the Haymarket : of a truth, 
 the contrast is sufficiently great. The 
 number of equipages may sound incon- 
 sistent with what I have before said, but, 
 as I stood near the door, I was enabled 
 to see that these were, for the most part, 
 hired carriages, and that there were not 
 thirty of that class, which belong to the re- 
 gular establishment of a nobleman or man of 
 fortune. I was most particularly pleased in 
 the great theatre, on two occasions, to ob- 
 serve the quiet, attentive, and unosten- 
 tatious deportment of the young princes, 
 although, being seated in the royal box, 
 a vast and splendid one, fronting the stage, 
 they were necessitated to observe the usual 
 
380 BERLIN. 
 
 forms ; forms, I think, desirable to be kept 
 up, and which it is, perhaps, to be re- 
 gretted that the King himself so indolently 
 evades : he was present in a retired side- 
 box. Between the acts they leaned against 
 the stove at the back of the royal box, in 
 conversation with their aide-de-camps. The 
 very instant the performance was about to 
 recommence, they came forward quietly to 
 their seats, and gave it their fidl attention : 
 their aide-de-camps sat very considerably 
 behind them, and near the wall stood several 
 of the royal domestics. A prince of blood 
 royal, especially in a despotic government, 
 should appear as one. A king walking 
 about side-by- side with you, with his hands 
 behind him, who can do just what he 
 pleases with you by a scratch of his pen, is 
 a sort of take-in. No, I should say, you 
 are a king, a kind and a good one, (for that 
 the King of Prussia is,) but still a king, 
 and, therefore, pray, my dear man, keep 
 your distance. I was much amused by 
 two gentlemen near me, speaking of the 
 youngest prince: one asking, eagerly, " Why 
 he has got the epaulets of a major ; when 
 was this ? I never heard of this." — " Oh," 
 
BERLIN. 381 
 
 said the other, " he has been promoted 
 since the last review; and I assure you, that 
 he is a good promising young officer, and 
 understands his duty in the field." — " I dare 
 to say he is quite happy now," rejoined the 
 other, looking back at him with evident 
 satisfaction. There was a something strange 
 to the English ear in the importance at- 
 tached to his military rank, as if prince 
 went for nothinoj at the age of nineteen. 
 However, they are truly a military people ; 
 and, indeed, to say the truth, although the 
 garrison of Berlin is not very large, from 
 the constant appearance of uniforms, and 
 soldiers in all places, and at all hours, 
 Berhn has the air of a capital occupied by 
 some well-behaved foreign force, and cheer- 
 ful and protected under their strict dis- 
 cipline. 
 
 But with all their martial display in 
 Berlin, they have no guard-mounting, like 
 that in St. James's Park ; no show, like 
 that troop of the Life or Horse Guards, with 
 their polished cuirasses, and long-tailed 
 black horses, as they wind down through 
 the green avenue of the Park, and after- 
 
382 BERLIN. 
 
 wards, as, when relieved, the old guard 
 rides calmly along Whitehall, and up Re- 
 gent-Street. There is nothing like our 
 Life or Horse Guards to be seen in any 
 capital in Europe. I cannot say the same 
 of our Foot Guards ; for, though they are 
 very fine troops, they are not picked men. 
 They are not an elite ; a guard should be; 
 and should be kept up, and never brought 
 into action, or engaged but on an emer- 
 gency : men so formed and considered will 
 never, never disappoint the expectation en- 
 tertained of them. Look only to the Life 
 Guards at Waterloo; men who had, literally, 
 passed theirlives in stables and at guard-fires. 
 I have seen individuals of the Foot Guards, 
 on duty at Carlton-House, so ill-made, so 
 slouching in their gait, and their fine appoint- 
 ments in such dull order, and so ill put on, 
 that I have really cast my eye about in fear, 
 lest some foreign officers should pass by. I 
 particularly recollect on one occasion I saw 
 three Russian officers, remarkably fine sol- 
 dierly-looking young men, coming down 
 Pall-Mall, and the sentinels were relievino-: 
 out of the whole relief, except the corporal, 
 
BERLIN. 383 
 
 there was not one fine, smart-lookinfj sol- 
 dier. I saw these officers attentively ob- 
 serving them, and talking with each other 
 in that quiet way, in which, as modest 
 gentlemen, they could alone express their 
 disappointment. I was so vexed, that, 
 knowing what truly fine corps the Guards 
 are, in a body under arms, I could hardly 
 forbear going up and requesting them to 
 attend a brigade field-day, before they 
 formed any opinion of the British Foot 
 Guards : however, I did not, for I quite 
 felt with them, that not one of the gre- 
 nadiers there ought ever to have been 
 received into the corps. I should say, that 
 almost the only thing in which our army 
 must yield to foreign troops is the set-up, 
 the martial carriage, the military tread. 
 There is not a finer guard-mounting on the 
 Continent than there is always in the Dublin 
 garrison. For cleanliness, handling of the 
 firelocks, carriage, and marching, when 
 actually under arms, our English soldiers 
 are equal to any in the world ; but the 
 moment they are dismissed, or the moment 
 they march at ease, under a careless non- 
 
384 BERLIN. 
 
 commissioned officer, or are left to stand 
 sentry by tliemselves, with no reproving 
 eye on them, they cease to look lil^e what 
 they really are, and can appear. I am well 
 aware that there is a moral reason for a 
 great deal of this slouching, which must 
 always strongly operate on the mind of the 
 British soldier while on home-service. The 
 foreign grenadier walks about among the 
 citizens with an erect carriage and a firm 
 tread, proud of being a soldier, and knows 
 that the more he makes of himself, by dis- 
 playing his person to advantage, and evi- 
 dencing his discipline, the more he shall be 
 admired. With soldier Jack, it is not so : 
 they all know this ; and without there is a 
 large group of them together, they really 
 are so sensitive, and so alive to ridicule, 
 that they dare not walk as they know they 
 could and should : a very handsome and 
 vain young man, or an ugly, old, brown 
 Serjeant, are the only exceptions. There is 
 nothing the common people in England, 
 even to the children, so much delii^ht 
 in as the lowerino; and laufrhino; at all dis- 
 play of pride in a common soldier : they 
 
BERLIN. 385 
 
 have many a saying, and many a trick to 
 provoke him with. I have often, from a 
 window, seen and smiled at this kind of 
 thhig. " Heads up, soldier 1" uttered by 
 a little ragged urchin of a chimney-sweeper, 
 will disconcert many a soldier for the 
 length of a street. ** Lord, what a fine 
 fellow I am !" and many such phrases, will 
 do the like ; whereas by a simple lounging 
 gait they escape it all. It would be dif- 
 ficult to explain this to a foreigner, and 
 make him enter into it ; but there is not a 
 British soldier, from the Duke of York to 
 the young drum-boy, who is not aware of 
 the thing, and the mass of the common 
 people know it also. 
 
 Although the appearance of the Prussian 
 soldiers is very pleasing, from their youth, 
 their fine figures, their becoming uniform, 
 and their proud erect marching, yet I must 
 say, that, to speak as a soldier, the old, 
 brown, weather-stained Austrians seem far 
 better adapted for the toil and the work of 
 war ; and I think the time will yet come 
 when Prussia may repent of a system, 
 which seems to me ill calculated to form 
 c c 
 
S86 BERLIJr. 
 
 an army. Austria could take the field 
 to-morrow with veteran forces ; Prussia 
 would bring youthful spirits, among whom 
 the march, the camp, the scanty fare, and 
 Suwarrow's curse, the hospital, would soon 
 make greater ravages than the enemies 
 arrayed against her. 
 
 Times and modes have so changed, that 
 it is diverting to contrast the present mili- 
 tary costume of Prussia with that of the 
 past age, which you may do at any hour of 
 the day, for Berlin is full of the statues of 
 the great officers of her more celebrated 
 times. There are enough in Wilhelms- 
 platz alone to form a council of war, and 
 chief among them old Ziethen, whom I 
 thank the sculptor for having represented 
 in the uniform of the old black hussars. 
 There the old boy stands ready to mount 
 his horse, and just as he may have looked 
 after the brilliant action of Tein*, when the 
 Prussian army, dispirited by long toils,, 
 rushed from their tents, shouting, " Long 
 live Ziethen and his hussars I ' The 
 
 * By which he delivered the rear of the Prussian 
 army on their precipitate retreat from Bohemia in the 
 disastrous campaign of 174'4. 
 
BERLIN. 387 
 
 hussar uniform (excepting the long shape- 
 less waist) is less altered than any ; and, 
 I doubt not, many a Prussian hussar half- 
 salutes that statue to this day. But nothing 
 can look more quaint and comic than the 
 stiff figure, low hat, broad coat, and but- 
 toned gaiters of Prince Anhalt of Dessau, 
 in the square before the palace. If you 
 could animate him, he would immediately 
 commence caning these, to his eye, de- 
 generate, brown-haired boys, who cherish 
 on either side something of the vain and 
 waving curl, and who seldom pass him 
 without a smile. 
 
 The busiest part of Berlin is the Konig- 
 Strasse : here, and in the square behind the 
 palace, are all the principal shops ; under 
 the arcades, in this last place, are those 
 which appear to be the best supplied and 
 most frequented. I noticed in the frontis- 
 piece to the literary almanacks, in the 
 booksellers' windows, the heads of Byron 
 and Walter Scott, in the highest places 
 of honour, after Goethe and Schiller, and 
 this in a circle of medallion heads, con- 
 taining a dozen, shows a feeling towards 
 c c 2 
 
388 BERLIN. 
 
 England and English literature, which, in- 
 stead of our receiving haughtily as a tri- 
 bute, should lead us to reflect, that there 
 must be a something like-minded to us in the 
 German, or he would not lavish upon us 
 all this adulation. Nor is their acquaint- 
 ance with our literature confined to that 
 which is popular in the passing day, they 
 read back into our better age ; and the 
 names of English poets, philosophers, and 
 historians, are familiar to the ears of the 
 educated German. The students in Berlin 
 may be seen, in large groups, near the hall 
 of the University at their class-hours, and 
 met solitary, or in pairs, in their return 
 through the streets; their books open, or 
 tucked under their arms, and their faces 
 looking occupied, or relieved, but always 
 with the true student air. They much 
 resemble, to my eye, the class-groups whom 
 I have seen hurrying about the old town of 
 Edinburgh, save the military forage-cap. 
 They appear to claim, and avail themselves 
 of the privilege of boyhood, long after they 
 have grown into men : they are slovenly, 
 hair unkempt and hands inky; and this 
 
BERLIN. 389 
 
 it is, I think, which does so revolt our 
 Enghsh university-men when they first 
 come in contact with German scholars. 
 
 The coffee-house aspect of Berlin is, like 
 that of many other large cities in Germany, 
 south and north, idle and profligate: but 
 that traveller would be deceived, I think, 
 who should judge of the private life of Ger- 
 mans from that peculiar class of persons, 
 which form, as it were, a race of them- 
 selves, and are found floating on the sur- 
 face of society all over that extensive coun- 
 try. There are, then, in Germany, a vast 
 number of men, who seem to live only 
 among cards and billiard-balls, — a mark, 
 and one of the worst, which a very long 
 war, and long intercourse with the French 
 armies, have left behind. A great number 
 of these are unemployed military men, of 
 originally idle and dissipated habits : others 
 are of a class which made money enough 
 during the war, in their trades and occu- 
 pations, to put on the coats witliout the cha- 
 racters of gentlemen, and who live loosely 
 about, at hotels and restaurateurs, where 
 they are little known as to early history, 
 c c 3 
 
890 BERLIN. 
 
 and welcome for what they spend. Con- 
 nected with such classes, and no less with 
 the common wants and necessary evils of 
 large cities, is all that unhappy crowd of 
 fair and frail beauties, which is to be found, 
 most certainly, as largely scattered about 
 the city of Berlin as Vienna. This a Prus- 
 sian, who knew both capitals well, owned 
 to me, and stated that he remembered the 
 time when Berlin was most notorious, as a 
 theatre of dissipation, throughout all Eu- 
 rope. He attributed it, in a great mea- 
 sure, to the then frequent presence of large 
 numbers of the Russian and Polish nobles, 
 who used to pass their winters in Berlin, by 
 their example, and the wealth they ex- 
 pended, greatly corrupting the capital, and 
 introducing great licentiousness, not so 
 much among the settled inhabitants, as 
 among those who visited it, allured by the 
 prospect of gaiety and unrestrained indul- 
 gence. They no longer frequent Prussia ; 
 and if they did, their minds and manners 
 are no longer what they were. " No," said 
 the Prussian ; " what we dislike the Vien- 
 nese for is that they are so ignorant and 
 

 BERLIN. 
 
 391 
 
 contented, so fond of good eating and 
 drinking, and so indifferent to the culti- 
 vation of their minds." I am, in neither in- 
 stance, for one minute supposing or allud- 
 ing to the profligacy of private life, of which 
 I can know nothing, although I am far from 
 thinking that the divorces in Prussia are a 
 fair test of the general corruption of a 
 society. These divorces often occur where 
 there has been no previous criminality ; and 
 however it may be regretted that the mar- 
 riage-tie is so dangerously light, yet being 
 so by the institutions of the country, all 
 unhappy marriages are made public by the 
 act of the dissolution. \ detest the system 
 heartily ; and may the marriage-vow in Old 
 England ever run in that noble and affect- 
 ing strain, " For better for worse, for richer 
 for poorer, in sickness and in health, until 
 death do part." 
 
 There is a woman's grave near Berlin, 
 which all travellers do fondly and rever- 
 ently visit. None needs to be informed of 
 the life, the fortunes, and the fate of the 
 late and beloved Queen of Prussia, — be- 
 loved, not only by a devoted husband, but 
 c c 4 
 
392 BERLIN. 
 
 by an entire people, who respected her 
 pure example, as a wife and a mother, and 
 adored her patriot spirit as their queen. 
 The subject of indignities, which never have 
 been, and never will be, forgiven to the 
 iron Napoleon ; and the witness of public 
 calamities, which, although they could not 
 subdue her generous and royal mind, cor- 
 roded the inward principle of life, stole the 
 bloom from her youthful cheek, the light 
 from her fair eyes, bowed down her beau- 
 tiful form, broke her young heart, and laid 
 her in the tomb. 
 
 This tomb is in the garden of Char- 
 lottenburgh. Acquainted with it by no 
 previous description, I left the palace of 
 Charlottenburgh, and walked down the gar- 
 den alone, the person in attendance hav- 
 ing pointed out the direction, and pro- 
 mising to follow with the key. It was not 
 without surprise that I came suddenly, 
 among trees, upon a fair white Doric temple. 
 I might, and should, have deemed it a 
 mere adornment of the grounds, — a spot 
 sacred to silence, or the soft-breathed song ; 
 but the cypress and the willow declare it 
 
BERLIN. 393 
 
 as a habitation of the dead. There was an 
 aged invalid busily occupied about the 
 portal, in sweeping away the dead and yel- 
 low leaves, which gathered there, and which 
 the November blast, in mockery of his 
 vain labour, drove back upon it, in larger 
 and londer eddies. He shook his grey 
 head at me, and, not seeing any body 
 with me, warned me petulantly away. 
 Nay, when the guardian came, it might be 
 fancy, but he seemed ill pleased that the 
 sanctuary should be violated. Upon a 
 sarcophagus of white marble lay a sheet ; 
 and the outline of a human form was 
 plainly visible beneath its folds. It seemed 
 as though he removed a winding-sheet, 
 to show a beloved corse, when the per- 
 son with me reverently turned it back, 
 and displayed the statue of his queen. It 
 is a portrait-statue recumbent, said to be 
 a perfect resemblance, — not as in death, 
 but when she lived to bless and be blessed. 
 Nothing can be more calm and kind than 
 the expression of her features. The hands 
 are folded on the bosom ; the limbs are 
 sufficiently crossed to show the repose 
 
394 BERLIN. 
 
 of life. She does but sleep, — she scarce 
 sleeps; — her mind and heart are on her 
 sweet lips. It is the work of Ranch, and 
 the sculptor may, indeed, be proud. He 
 has given to his widowed king a solace 
 for his life. Here the King often comes, 
 and passes long hours alone ; here he 
 brings her children annually, to offer gar- 
 lands at her grave. These hang in withered 
 mournfulness above this living image of 
 their departed mother ; and each year sees 
 them renewed. 
 
 Even a stranger might sit soothed for 
 hours by the side of this marble form, it 
 breathes such purity, such peace. I wish 
 it were more the custom in these days 
 to place the portrait-statue recumbent on 
 the monument of the dead. It is the 
 finest kind of memorial : nor less so, I 
 think, even where, as in the middle ages, 
 it is allowed to approach to the appear- 
 ance of the corse, provided the features 
 be preserved, and the general execution, 
 nature: the fillet round the temples, the 
 cheeks slightly collapsed, and the limbs 
 
BERLIN. 395 
 
 stretched out in the stony rigidity of death, 
 have a most affecting and sublime cha- 
 racter. 
 
 As soon as we had left the temple, the 
 old man, fobbing his disregarded fee with- 
 out looking at it, returned to his strange 
 and useless task, with all that wasted dili- 
 gence which often marks the activity of the 
 second childhood ; and as I looked back I 
 saw the disturbed leaves circling round his 
 aged head. How strange, how mysterious 
 are the decrees of Heaven ! — youth and 
 beauty lie buried in the early grave, — 
 lone and withered age lives on ! 
 
 An Englishman feels little tempted to 
 pass a winter in the capital of Prussia. 
 The stove, although I admit that it spreads 
 a more equal and comfortable heat through 
 an apartment, is no substitute for the red 
 glow of the companionable fire : you cannot 
 turn your back to it with satisfaction ; you 
 miss that sceptre of domestic rule, the 
 poker ; and you are glad, at least I was, to 
 hasten home. 
 
 I have never in my life traversed so 
 
396 BERLIN. 
 
 wretched a road as that which leads from 
 Berlin to Hamburgh ; and I think the man 
 who should enter Germany from this latter 
 point would, of necessity, throw so dark a 
 colour on his canvass, that his whole pic- 
 ture of the country would partake the 
 gloom. It is a journey to be endured, just 
 as you would a punishment, or a surgical 
 operation. Through the long night the 
 eye will never close, the head will never 
 cease to ache, and, from the successive and 
 continuous jolts, although the carriage be 
 ever so well padded, the shoulders will be 
 bruised and blackened. A great deal of it 
 is laid down in timber to prevent vehicles 
 from sinking immovable in the sand, and 
 the passing these portions is a fatigue very 
 far beyond a day's journeying on the dro- 
 medary. The houses of call are wretched. 
 At one of them, in a wild sandy spot, 
 among forests of fir, 1 heard the sound of 
 music, and looking in, through a cloud of 
 smoke in a small miserable apartment, so 
 hot, that I could not remain five minutes, 
 I found a collection of figures, cast in na- 
 
HAMBURGH. 397 
 
 ture's most coarse and ungainly mould, 
 waltzing. Women, brown and broad, with 
 heavy shoes, and coarse stuff gowns and 
 petticoats, waltzing with clowns as plain 
 and rough, only looking, from their garb, 
 less large — less masculine I might say. It 
 was good this: — it was not fit that I should 
 have left Germany without being jolted 
 over this execrable road, or without having 
 some of my bright and soft recollections of 
 the German waltz corrected, or rather dis- 
 turbed by the sight of a group, and of 
 movements, which no pen or pencil could 
 faithfully depict. 
 
 It was a dirty, drizzling, dull, cold day 
 when I entered Hamburgh, and the very 
 first question I asked when I got out of the 
 carriage, was, " Is there a packet at Cux- 
 haven, and when does she sail for Epg- 
 land?" That evening I dropped down 
 the river in a Hamburgh boat ; the next 
 morning I was sailing past Heligoland ; on 
 the night of that day, slept through a 
 gale boisterously favourable, on the North 
 sea, and anchored the third evening in 
 Harwich roads. 
 
598 CONCLUSION. 
 
 The conclusion of this light volume 
 must, I feel, be that in which nothing is 
 concluded. I was desirous of seeing Ger- 
 many for myself, and I have seen it. I 
 have only ventured to give brief notices of 
 what I saw, and to mingle with them those 
 reflections, which the scenes I looked upon 
 suggested to my mind. 
 
 Germany had long been, to my fancy, 
 the region of romance ; her warrior po- 
 pulation, and her fair-eyed women, had 
 filled up many a picture, painted by the 
 mind's pencil in her musing hours. I had 
 already seen all her armies in review array; 
 I wanted to see them scattered about their 
 native country in such groups and occu- 
 pations as belong to peace. 
 
 I wanted to look upon those women of 
 Germany, to whose lot it has not unfre- 
 quently fallen to conceal to-day a van- 
 quished friend, to receive to-morrow a 
 victorious foe ; — to succour the wounded 
 of all parties ; to have her heart assailed, 
 as woman, in a thousand ways, and to be 
 placed in situations, where love could only 
 breed despair. 
 
CONCLUSION. 399 
 
 I wanted to see those German youths, 
 who, in the strange and frequent changes 
 of alHance in their distracted country, found 
 the tie of private friendship suddenly bro- 
 ken by the voice of war ; and the man 
 whom their soul loved opposed to them in 
 the front of battle. 
 
 The theatre of these battles, the site of 
 the camps where contending armies lay, of 
 the cities in which they were cantoned, the 
 amusements which the day's halt gave them 
 opportunities of sharing for a first, a last, 
 an only time, the promenades on which 
 they may have walked, and the gardens in 
 which their bands may have gathered in- 
 voluntary groups of listeners during the 
 short sojourn ; — these, and such like, were 
 my trifling objects, and, perhaps, it was not 
 altogether without a secret wish to o^ather 
 materials of scenery and of portraits which 
 might give truth and interest to some pro- 
 posed fictions; for military life would weave 
 well into the woof, and have shades as well 
 as lights, dark as the lover of peace could 
 desire them to be, and bright as to the 
 
400 CONCLUSION. 
 
 brave, the ardent, and the young, they ever 
 must appear. Whether I shall ever venture 
 on the task, I know not. " Man proposeth, 
 God disposeth." 
 
 " What, though the radiance which was once so bright 
 Be now for ever taken from my sight, 
 Though nothing can bring back the hour 
 Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower ; 
 We will grieve not, rather find 
 Strength in what remains behind, 
 In the primal sympathy 
 Which having been must ever be, 
 In the soothing thoughts that spring 
 Out of human suffering, 
 In the faith that looks through death, 
 In years that bring the philosophic mind." 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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