- //>f 
 
 
 
WOTSS A3ND REFLECTIONS 
 
 DURING A 
 
 RAMBLE IN GERMANY. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 " SKETCHES OF INDIA," 
 
 i; SCENES AND IMPRESSIONS IN EGYPT AND ITALY," 
 
 AND " STORY OF A LIFE." 
 
 iiostou 
 
 WELLS AND LILLY, COURT-STREET, 
 
 1827. 
 

 ^refact. 
 
 As I walked about my chamber at 
 Frankfort, pronouncing, with no very feli- 
 citous accent, the "M," "Mich," "Sich," 
 of the German grammar, I remembered 
 the saying of Bacon, — " He that travelleth 
 into a country before he hath some en- 
 trance 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 the 
 admirable Tour of Mr. Riissel, so little 
 has been written on the subject of Germa- 
 ny, that the most meagre contribution of a 
 chance traveller in that country scarcely 
 needs any apology. My brief notices of 
 such places in Flanders and Switzerland, as 
 
IV ritEFACE. 
 
 I traversed in my route, belong, of necessi- 
 ty, to the character of a volume, which is 
 but the personal narrative of an autumnal 
 excursion on the Continent. 
 
 Claverton Farm, Jug. 28, 1826. 
 
fttUtroTmetiotf. 
 
 It is a pleasant thing to be awakened by the morn- 
 ing 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 portman- 
 teau, and sac de mit, that have safely passed the or- 
 deal of the rumpling hand, ready for instant depar- 
 ture, or long sojourn, as their master shall determine ; 
 and cares, packets, and the custom-house behind you. 
 
 It is a saying of Augustine, that u 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 awa- 
 kened, 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 become 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 covered with schuyts. in one 
 of these I saw a broad Dutch sailor in a shirt of red 
 flannel, and big breeches, employed with a bucket in' 
 
VI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 dashing water over the bows of his craft; for what I 
 was at a loss to conjecture, seeing- that it was already 
 of a cleanliness, which seemed to resent the notion 
 of its having 1 ever been defiled by use heretofore, or 
 designed for it hereafter. In fact, were it not for 
 the size of these schuyts, and the dirty red shirts of 
 their guardians, you might fancy them mere models 
 — bright brown models for the show-room of an ar- 
 senal. 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 measures, 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 play- 
 ful doubt as to his being anything more than some 
 larger creation of the ingenious toyman. Thus it is 
 with the houses generally : — the windows, the doors, 
 the posts, the rails, the ornamental iron work, are 
 all of a brightness, at once pleasing and forbidding : 
 you doubt if any dare breathe on the windows, or 
 touch the knockers. The colours too are all pe- 
 culiar to the land, — doors, window-shutters, sash- 
 frames ; 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 us. 
 
 Except a few of the old Dutch skippers, there is 
 little remarkable in costume. In the markets, in- 
 deed, some of the country-women attract attention 
 by the size and form of their ear-rings, and of those 
 
INTRODUCTION. Yll 
 
 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 uncover- 
 ed arm, the round, full, nurselike form, and the quiet 
 motherly 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 nursery 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 particularly struck with their late rising, and 
 with the slow and measured manner of all their la- 
 bour, — between the hours of five and six, on a July 
 morning, I scarce encountered a soul, and few houses 
 were open when 1 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 vehi- 
 cles which the old Dutch and Flemish masters have 
 made us all familiar with. I saw few beggars ; and 
 these not in rags, they seemed only to ask charity 
 from those in the middle class, and their abord was 
 rather a coax than a craving, and generally ventured 
 on near the beer-house benches, 
 
Vlll INTRODUCTION". 
 
 I should perhaps have doubted the existence o: 
 mirth in Rotterdam, if a boat, returning from the fair 
 at Brill, had not passed under my windows the eve- 
 ning 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 sympathy of good hu- 
 mour shone in all countenances as the groupe floated 
 past, enacting 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 character 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 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 unfaith- 
 fully. I believe that they are the resorts of the very 
 lowest class, and that (in Rotterdam) a Hollander of 
 any respectability is never to be seen in them. If it 
 had been possible, in the garb of a gentleman, to 
 have ascertained their exact state, I should unhesi- 
 tatingly 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 bro- 
 thels in London is spoken of as nearly the same, and 
 the unhappy state of their enslaved inmates is not 
 unfrequently 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 ex- 
 cellent with large handsome windows of plate glass. 
 
INTRODUCTION. i\ 
 
 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 im- 
 posing. 
 
 The view from the top of this tower is also a fine 
 thing ! the eye ranges over a vast tract of flooded coun- 
 try, — over green flats, canals, dyke roads, and ave- 
 nues of trees ; and many towers and spires glitter 
 in the distance. 
 
 The suburbs of Rotterdam are not remarkable, 
 and the villas would find little favour in any eye save 
 that of a retired skipper, or a pipe-loving burgomas- 
 ter. 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 apotheosis 
 you would look for in such a spot. The figure of 
 Erasmus in bronze, in the cap and robe of an ecclesi- 
 astic, 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 pictures of Baron Lockhorst. 
 The collection is not large or fine, but picture-gazing 
 is an amusement of which the true traveller seldom 
 tires. Dutch paintings have a character of uncom- 
 mon truth. I have observed that the rich and the 
 great are generally partial to this school, which I fan- 
 cy I can easily account for, and greatly to their credit. 
 It would seem thev desired to have before them 
 
X INTRODUCTION. 
 
 faithfnil pictures of the enjoyments of low life, as it 
 to assure themselves (could any of them need such 
 assurance,) that they did not possess a monopoly of 
 the means of happiness. Hence these endless repe- 
 titions of fairs and fire-side scenes, and groups of 
 boors smoking and drinking ; of women cleaning, 
 cooking, and working at the needle ; of furniture, 
 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 sit- 
 tings, and where I saw some good instruments, and 
 bad portraits ; — these things ail done, I departed, 
 taking the route of Flanders. 
 
 I must not, however, leave Rotterdam without re- 
 cording one pleasure 1 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 for- 
 get it: they strike out upon the silence, with a sweet 
 and silvery promise in their beginning, — and thrill 
 you ; — then, 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 ; 
 
 * Dr. Bumey styles the carillons, in a forceful and contemp- 
 tuous 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 babv was with its silver bells. 
 
INTRODUCTION. XI 
 
 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 inhabit- 
 ants, 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 approach it 
 up the Scheldt, is lordly. The lofty tower of the ca- 
 thedral, glorious and pinnacled, rises above the city 
 of its children, with inconceivable majesty and beau- 
 ty. 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 painting. 
 
 I no sooner reached my hotel than I procured a 
 cabriolet, and drove out of the city, and in part round 
 the works. Entering again, I found the garrison on 
 the glacis at drill, a great part in squads, without 
 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 Phoe- 
 nix Park with as little notice as a regiment of my 
 own countrymen. There is one point, in which the 
 features of resemblance among nations are uniform 
 over all Europe ; and, however manners and customs 
 may otherwise differ, I suspect a barrackyard is the 
 
Xll IKTKODUCTIOff. 
 
 very same thing, presents the same objects, and its 
 drill is conducted upon the like system at Moscow 
 and Dublin. I drove to the citadel, and asked the 
 serjeant 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 dismounted. The orderly, who accompa- 
 nied 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 language, confirming the 
 existence of that sentiment 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 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 work, 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 lightness, and its gloom is of the softest ; it may 
 truly be called a M 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 1 could gaze undis- 
 turbed on that master-piece of Rubens, the Descent 
 from the Cross. This, and the other two famous 
 pictures in this church, have been often describe ; 
 
INTRODUCTION. XllI 
 
 they detain you long, and are quitted with a reluc- 
 tant step, and a backward regard. There are innu- 
 merable figures in this cathedral, sculptured in wood, 
 the first of their kind that I had ever seen. They 
 have no quaintness, but are executed 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 pleasing beauty. 
 
 The church of St. Jacques is rich in objects of in- 
 terest, but that which more particularly 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 pre- 
 cious marble, the altar is of the like material. Above 
 it is placed a picture by this master, which I consi- 
 der 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 loveli- 
 ness ; there is a radiant glory in its smile, and the 
 contrast of its little tender form, with the brown and 
 wiry figure of St. Jerome, is most happy. The man- 
 ly St. George and the two handsome females, said to 
 be portraits of Rubens and two of his wives, are fine- 
 ly 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 perfect. 
 
 The Museum has some very fine pictures by Ru- 
 bens and Vandyke. The communion 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 sad- 
 dens every beholder. I never look upon such a pic- 
 ture that 1 do not feel the value and high dignity of 
 
XIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the painter's art. If the deep notes of the solemn 
 organ, — if the melancholy music of Milton are suit- 
 able to awaken and inflame that better spirit within 
 us, which is the most precious gift of Heaven, as- 
 suredly the like noble purpose is attained by creations 
 on the canvas, which place before our very eyes 
 those once acted and awful scenes, to which our con- 
 templation can never be directed without benefit. 
 
 There is a fine cabinet of paintings at Mr. Von 
 Lanckner's. Among many nobler pieces are two fine 
 Wouvermans ; the one a Pillaging, the other a Fish- 
 ing Scene, — both wonderful works, — the former the 
 most interesting: it is like reading a chapter of mi- 
 nute and finished description from one of the Waverly 
 novels to stand before either. 
 
 Antwerp is a place that I should prefer as a resi- 
 dence far before Brussels, I like its long and lonely 
 streets, and the solitary figures that cross them, wrap- 
 ped 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 pleasure 
 at the thought that a population, once 200,000, has 
 now dwindled to 50,000 ; that of 9000 houses the half 
 should be untenanted ; and that, of its 212 streets, so 
 many should never echo to the passing step ; but that 
 as things are so, the lover of solitude, and the dwel- 
 ler with silence might find there lessons of improve- 
 ment, and causes of contentment. 
 
 Brussels is white and bright : the allee verte, by 
 which you approach it, is broad, green, and plea- 
 sant. The palace of Laken stands well. The park 
 and the place royale have a character of great mag- 
 nificence. But were it not for that fine old Gothic 
 edifice the town hall with its fret work, and windows. 
 
INTRODUCTION. XV 
 
 and tall tower; and also for the old church of St. Gu- 
 dule, 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 association 
 of undying interest It was in her chambers our coun 
 trymen girded them for the battle, in her squares 
 and streets they mustered, and out of her gates they 
 marched 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 be- 
 long to the forest scene. The axe of the wood-cutter 
 was the only sound which broke the stillness,save once 
 where I met a groupe of line 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 sol- 
 diers 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 u Paul's Letters to 
 his Kinsfolk. " I passed over the field with these 
 aids in my head, with the memory 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 
 a dark complexion, a little pitted with the small pox, 
 and with black intelligent eyes. If he was fifty-three 
 
Xfl INTRODUCTION. 
 
 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 plough- 
 boy, 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 en- 
 trance, and bayonetted all the gallant Hanoverians 
 whom they found within. Shot holes in the gate it- 
 self, 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, therefore, is somewhat altered. 
 The terrace remains, 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 occupied by the servants of the farm ; 
 and a poor woman, with two children having smiling 
 eyes and red cheeks, came out to receive the cus- 
 tomary gift. I could well image to myself the hot 
 assault, and obstinate 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 n 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 Napoleon had trodden during this 
 mighty combat. The point to which he last advan- 
 ced 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 histoid guard, but the moral of 
 
INTRODUCTION. ' XV11 
 
 his history 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 move- 
 ments directed by him, from the twelfth to the eigh- 
 teenth, deal hardly with his fame. It was surely no 
 small exhibition of talent to compel the Prussian and 
 British commanders to fight hirn on two different 
 days, and in two separate fields of battle. 1 he vie-* 
 tory of Waterloo was gained by the iron bravery of 
 our troops, and by the firm high-minded moral cou- 
 rage 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 dis- 
 positions 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. 
 
 " The lot is cast into the lap, the whole disposing 
 thereof is of the Lord." Kingdoms and cottages, prin- 
 ces 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 accompany him throughout the bat- 
 tle, by this very circumstance has become possessed 
 of more money and land than he ever dared to hope 
 for; has a thriving family, and the grateful joy of his 
 heart keeps him hale, cheerful, and strong. The de- 
 feated king has closed a life of bitter exile in the grave. 
 
XV1U INTRODUCTION. 
 
 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 f6te : 
 they were dancing stoutly on the sward, and their 
 orchestra sate in a waggon — a picture of Tenier's 
 realized. 
 
 I visited Mezieres, Sedan, Verdun, Metz, Thion- 
 ville, Luxemburgh. Metz is a fine city: many his- 
 torical recollections are awakened in it, as also at 
 Thionville. At the inn here I found a young Ger- 
 man troubadour. He sung ballads for me, accom- 
 panying himself on the guitar. It came to my thought 
 as he sung, standing humble in the corner of the sa- 
 loon, how differently at the old court of Charle- 
 magne, 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 de- 
 light me. The road to Luxemburgh hcis woods, pla- 
 teaux, positions bringing wars and military names to 
 your mind. Among the latter, that of the great Duke 
 of Alva returning defeated 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 
 w r hole excursion from Brussels was delightful. Part 
 of the way I crossed legs in a diligence with the 
 blood-red trowsers of a young French officer of the 
 Ghasseurs-a-chevai, and found French military talk 
 at all the tables d'hote. From this point I entered 
 Germanv. 
 
NOTES AND K£FX*ECTIONS 
 
 IX 
 
 A RAMBLE TO VIENNA, 
 
 in 1825. 
 
 The common sounds in the cities of Germany are 
 the clangour of military bands, the ringing of iron 
 boot-heels, and the measured tread of stately sol- 
 diers. 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 movements of the waltz. 
 The sights every where correspond with the cha- 
 racter of these sounds, and both are found on the 
 very threshold of the land. 
 
 The approach to Treves from Luxemburgh is sin- 
 gularly beautiful ; the Moselle 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 fruit- 
 ful, being for the most part laid out in vineyards. 
 
 The city lies in the narrowest part of the valle^, 
 1 
 
20 GERMANY. 
 
 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 conquer- 
 ors, as a Capitol. Whatever doubts disturb or de- 
 stroy 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 ; — the houses are of quaint irregular 
 forms, all sizes, all shapes, and of no order ; here, a lii- 
 tle old bay-windowed yellow house, leaning fairly on 
 one side ; there, a tall bright-red mansion, with carv- 
 ed 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 Aus- 
 trian dragoons, wnich, 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 Albert 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 
 consent, adopted. 
 
 I like the German, however, the better for this, 
 and the very sight of the type in which old Chaucer 
 
GERMANY. £1 
 
 was imprinted, begets a kind feeling in the bosom of 
 the English traveller towards the country and the 
 people he is about to visit. It is not a little remark- 
 able to observe, how much among these people the 
 French had found it impossible to change. Although 
 for nearly twenty years Treves had been the chef 
 lieu of a department under the republic, and the em- 
 pire 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 language. 
 
 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. However, 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 harmonious singing, as i pass- 
 ed 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 ; and afterwards, in a 
 more retired lane, three young officers, riding in that 
 q':iet way the Germans love. As 1 passed home- 
 wards, 1 made for a stately building that looked like 
 a palace ; it was formerly the Prince Bishop's, now 
 the barrack Gf Prussian 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 
 instrumental music excellent. I felt a strange, stir- 
 ring delight as, in parts, the harsh brattle of the 
 drum, and the stern notes of the brazen trumpets^ 
 
22 GERMANY. 
 
 mingled with the solemn song of praise. It was im- 
 possible to rein the fancy, and she was busy in other 
 scenes, — scenes naturally suggesting themselves to 
 a soldier's mind, and forming a very painful and ex- 
 citing contrast to that before me, where quiet citi- 
 zens, and gay -dressed women, and happy school-boys, 
 were crowded opposite the choir, all eye and ear. 
 There ivas a grand parade of the troops, after high 
 mass, for divine service, according to the Protestant 
 form of worship. There were three battalions of 
 infantry, and a regiment 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 service : there was no haste, no 
 irreverence, throughout the whole ; a great part of 
 the soldiers used their prayer-books, and numbers 
 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 earnestness 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 conclud- 
 ed his discourse, at a given signal, the artillery fired 
 their thundering salutes ; the troops deployed, form- 
 ed in open column, and marched past. I placed 
 myself 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 
 
GERMANY. 23 
 
 eyes on the General, after a noble manner, that fill- 
 ed mine with thick and dimming 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 chesnut horse, of the exact 
 cut of that which old Fritz, of glorious memory, is 
 always represented as mounted on, — a Prussian cor- 
 net, perhaps, of the day, when the black eagle was 
 the terror of battle-fields. Those times have pass- 
 ed 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 kingdom, to serve 
 in the ranks of her army for a given period of three 
 years, or never less than one, is felt find complained 
 of as a heavy grievance,— I think with reason. Sure 
 I am that a large number of young persons are re- 
 turned into the bosom of civil society very ill fitted 
 to pursue peaceful and laborious occupations in hum- 
 ble contentment ; while others again are compelled, 
 for a season (and that the most important of their 
 existence), to a mode of life, a discipline, and a 
 treatment, which they find irksome, revolting, and 
 abhorrent. I particularly allude to the poorer gen- 
 try, 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 commissioned as officers, and are alike pained 
 and alarmed for their morals, and their happiness, 
 when taken from under their ow r n eve, and placed 
 1* 
 
fet GERMAIN V. 
 
 among the chance companions, which regiments thus 
 composed must furnish. This universal soldiership 
 is assuredly a curse ; the enlisting of men for a term 
 of many years forms better soldiers, and spoils few- 
 er citizens. I mean not by this to speak of regular 
 soldiers as more immoral than other classes of socie- 
 ty ; 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 necessity, 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 ad- 
 vantages, and a handsome carriage, become the ob- 
 jects for low gamblers and designing females 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 im- 
 morality. 
 
 1 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 r beneath. 
 I wonder not that, at a very early period, the claris- 
 simi Treviri stayed their wandering camp, and fixed 
 it here ; for nothing can be more pleasant to the eye 
 than this fertile and well-watered plain. As I was 
 gazing on this prospect, I heard a little murmuring 
 of young voices, in a hollow way, near the field in 
 which 1 stood, and, going to the bank, J saw a fami- 
 ly, consisting of three little girls and their mother, 
 walking up the steep lane, slowly and singly, the 
 youngest first, their hands joined together, an3 
 
germain nt. 
 
 pointing upwards, and their rosaries hanging down 
 from them. The children had fair hair, that fell in 
 braids, and voices clear and innocent. The mother 
 was mantled and pale, and moved her lips in deeper 
 and sadder tones. 1 followed at an undisturbing dis- 
 tance, 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, 1 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 morning, were these lines quot- 
 ed from Lucan, as descriptive of the religion of their 
 earliest ancestors : — 
 
 " Simulacraque moesta Deorum 
 Arte carent, csesisque 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, 1 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 mo- 
 ment the city was hushed and silent. Such days the 
 traveller does not readily forget. I was dragged in 
 one* however, and glad to be so : from Treves to 
 
*tf GERMANY. 
 
 Coblentz. The better way, if the season admits of 
 it, is to take a boat, and drop down the river Mo- 
 selle, an excursion which 1 am told is very delight- 
 ful 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 find- 
 ing quarters at the grea^t 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 casement to satisfy my appetite at table in 
 the salon, and I giadly returned to it. The moon 
 sailed high and bright among clouds that, at times, 
 for a minute, shadowed her, and gave an indescriba- 
 ble 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 sober colours of a dawning sum- 
 mer's day. I rose immediately, and walked up to 
 the height, called Wilhamstadt, 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 
 villages, 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 impressions of the peo- 
 ple, which my eye gathered for me as I sauntered 
 through the streets. I like a market-place every 
 
GERMANY. 27 
 
 where, especially in a foreign land. I like to see 
 peasant ivomen 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 harvest-fields, and their flaxen 
 hair yellowed 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, na- 
 turally open, assume an expression of honesty very 
 prepossessing. There is a fearlessness of regard 
 altogether 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 furnish you with a 
 very pleasing feature in the German character ; the 
 city of his birth, the leader after his heart, the pa- 
 tron 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 treasured possession, — a talis- 
 man of happy power. 
 
 I attended a public concert in the evening. The 
 performers were few, but excellent — 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 Ger- 
 man girls of eighteen appeared to me simple in both 
 manner and dress as our children ; no effort at dis- 
 
28 GERMANY. 
 
 play, — hair without 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 lightest 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 German youths, 
 and boys ; many of them from sixteen to eighteen 
 years of age, yet they wore the open neck, — the 
 white, and falling shirt-collar : their shining hair 
 hung down long and waving, and was just parted on 
 the forehead their fine complexions, and expres- 
 sive countenances, varied to each movement, and 
 their eyes were affectionately fixed on the perform- 
 ers 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 reproof of even 
 the slightest rustle may be read on every forehead 
 throughout the assembly. In the interval between 
 the acts the conversation is cheerful and buzzing. 
 
 At the close 1 returned to my table d'hote, where 
 I had occasion to observe that exact contrast of cha- 
 racter, which all societies present, but none more 
 frequently, and in greater strength, than those com- 
 posed of military men. At the upper part of the 
 table sate two Prussian officers, engaged in conver- 
 sation, whose minds and hearts looked out from their 
 eyes after the noblest manner ; at the bottom sate 
 two younger officer- 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 Seitzer water 
 upon. One word to such travellers, as, bringing 
 with them, from Ensrlish universities, an instilled 
 
GERMANY. gfi 
 
 ami, perhaps, a useful prejudice against the armies, 
 and officers of Germany, incline to despise all that 
 is uttered 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 sub- 
 ject connected with the classics, the belles lettres, the 
 arts or sciences, at a table filled with Prussian officers. 
 
 In the morning 1 visited the church of St. Castor, 
 and found it decorated for a festival, and filled with 
 a holiday-clad congregation. Between the columns, 
 and around them, and on the walls, hung rich, thick 
 festoons of oak leaves smelling fresh from the forest ; 
 orange trees and handsome shrubs had been brought 
 from some conservatory, and prettily disposed about 
 the church. The altars were dressed in fresh ga- 
 thered flowers, and all the pictures had their frames 
 richly concealed in like manner. The service was 
 reverently performed, and the Te Deum well sung ; 
 but when, in parts, the whole congregation joined 
 in the psalmody, and the assembled voices rose in 
 one full harmonious note of praise, I felt a deep and 
 hallowed happiness. The devotional singing of the 
 Germans is of the very highest order; they observe 
 a slow, and measured time, and preserve a fine ac- 
 cord. 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, se- 
 rious, 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 
 
30 GERMANY. 
 
 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 glory, which shines but rarely 
 on the grave of a warrior. His remains lie imme- 
 diately under a fort, where, in all future continental 
 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," pro- 
 cured for me the regular permission to visit Ehren- 
 breitstein, and accompanied me. As we walked 
 slowly up the hill 1 gathered his brief tale. A na- 
 tive of the city, he had seen a regiment of French 
 hussars pass through, and had followed their for- 
 tunes. 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 mid- 
 night rain, and, after a morning of rude greetings in 
 the field, had been dried by the same welcomed sun- 
 beams as myself some fourteen years ago. 
 
 The works of the fortress have again arisen in 
 considerable strength, but much remains to be done. 
 According to the rate at which they now labour, and 
 the number of men they employ, it would take seven 
 or eight years to complete them : this the old Prus- 
 sian bombardier who showed them observed, adding, 
 
GERMAN V. ol 
 
 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 think of a grey- 
 headed old soldier, who can remember, within the 
 narrow space of ten short years, two such 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 wails I looked out upon the same magnifi- 
 cent scene I have already spoken of, as discovered 
 from Williamstadt, and traced the extensive works, 
 which, on every side, protect Cobientz, and the calm 
 meeting of the Moselle and the Rhine. There is a 
 handsome church in this lofty fort bomb-proof. There 
 is always a great stillness about a church ; even if it 
 be an erection of yesterday, 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 difficult for regularly educated clergj T - 
 men 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 recollection one single 
 discourse, delivered by a chaplain, which met the 
 minds, habits, feelings, and spiritual wants of private 
 soldiers. 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 
 
o2 GERMANY. 
 
 least I think so, and I have often wished to see a 
 helping volume for the tent and the guard-room : but 
 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 Cobientz 
 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, — dwellings, old in their 
 fashion, and solid in their aspect ; thresholds of worn 
 stone that have been stepped over by many genera- 
 tions; and vine-clad porches that have shaded many 
 a wayworn traveller as he partook the free hospita- 
 lity of kind owners smiling in peace and abundance. 
 
 J strongly recommend an evening at the post-house 
 of St. Goar to all traveller?, for, if it is still what I 
 found it, they will meet with cleanliness, tranquillity, 
 and civil treatment : moreover, the site is most beau- 
 tiful. 
 
 While ^they were preparing my supper I took a 
 walk. Walks at the hour of dusk are ever soothing 
 and pleasant, but especially so on the bank of a fine 
 river : the flow is heard more solemn in the still- 
 ness, and the glassy light of broad and gliding waters 
 is seen with a more thoughtful feeling. At a bend 
 of the stream 1 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 de- 
 serving a visit : it has been in succession convent. 
 
GERMANY. >:; 
 
 castle, and fort. In this last character it was surren- 
 dered or betrayed to the French, on the first sum- 
 mons, 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 dun- 
 geon 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 Lurleyberg, where there is 
 an echo. Of this echo your postilion is too proud 
 to remain silent ; he disturbs the solitude 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 Ober- 
 wesel stands prettily ; there is a ruined church, and 
 another beautifully clothed with ivy, which 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 cen- 
 turies ago, under circumstances of the most aggra- 
 vated 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 altogether in ruins. The windows are bro- 
 ken, indeed, and the damp air is busy on the walls ; 
 
o4 GERMANY. 
 
 but devotees still visit and kneel before the altar, 
 over which hangs a very horrid picture of this mar- 
 tyrdom. It represents 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 invention 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 murdered by 
 Jews at one of these places, if not at all. I cannot, 
 however, credit the monstrous 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 insults, would exasperate the 
 spirit of hunted and irritated men, even to madness ; 
 and this may account, I think, for children having 
 been the chance victims of a people, at once vindic- 
 tive and timid. In the ballad of Hugh of Lincoln, 
 the boys are represented playing at foot-ball, and the 
 one who afterwards suffers, as kicking it through a 
 Jew's window. This more strongly inclines 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 affect- 
 
GERJIANY. 35 
 
 ing interest. The mother is thus wonderfully de- 
 picted in Chaucer : — 
 
 " %l)\& poore tmaofo aaxutetf) ai $e nigljt 
 3ftsr fjer Uttfs rf)itoe, ana lie came nought : 
 jFor M)\t\) as socme as it teas na^ligljt, 
 WL\t\) face pale for Brene arm kixw tfjougfjt, 
 ^e Ijatl) at gemote ann ekeWjere Ijim wmgfjt, 
 'Citt finalfe slje gan 5fo farce aspie 
 'Cijat fje last eene tats in tije 3Ietorie# 
 
 cilStit^ mother pitie in %u test endows 
 %\)% gotlj ag sl)e tore Ijalfe out of fcer minnc 
 %* tlnty place, foljere %\)i fjatfc supposes 
 3$2 Ufceliljooo tier cljilu for to finse x 
 Qiixn tint on CJjristes mother goon ana fcintis 
 €>lje criea," — 
 
 Forgive me, reader, I could not choose but quote 
 these lines ; 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, romantic, 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, pictoriaily speaking, 1 must observe, that they 
 are generally more honoured and bepraised, by tra- 
 vellers 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 pro- 
 tected and built up by low-walled embankments. 
 Tn all of them the brown surface of the earth bears 
 
36 GERMANY. 
 
 so large a proportion to that clad in the verdure or' 
 the plant, that the general effect, were it not for 
 the association of ideas, would be almost painful; 
 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 Rudesheim, which so gladden and 
 strengthen the traveller's heart, to criticise the as- 
 pect of the gardens where they grow ; it is like 
 praising a real good fellow, and then coldly regret- 
 ting that he is plain. 
 
 The strange-looking, many-windowed inn at Bin- 
 gen was empty ; so that I sate down to my cover 
 alone, but with plenty to amuse the eye, for on the 
 papered wall were depicted the French triumphs in 
 Egypt, and pyramids, palm-trees, obelisks, tents, 
 Mamalukes and French hussars were blended 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 qu'il ya du 
 vin ?" The Arab always asks the stranger if he has 
 dates in his country ? Thus it is men are bound by 
 the fitted gifts of Providence to their own allotted 
 path in creation. 
 
 In this place, opposite the inn, I recollect seeing 
 a young mother, and her first-born child, of rare 
 beauty ; and the playful fondling and returned ca- 
 resses gave me a picture perfect in its kind. 
 
GERMANY. 37 
 
 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 empty, and the shades 
 of evening fell thick, and ail was gloom and stillness, 
 I returned and leaned long against the locked door, 
 to listen to that fitful, melancholy music. Such 
 things send you sad, yet happy to } r our couch. 
 
 The route to Mayence crosses the Rheingau : a 
 blessed abundance smiled all round ; wide corn-fields, 
 grapes in the blush, and fruit-trees, in long avenues, 
 on the very road. The way-faring 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 Mieder 
 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- 
 complexioned Prussian, who demands it again. In 
 short, you are now fairly in the hands of the high 
 Allied Powers, for they garrison this noble city and 
 important post between them. You drive down a 
 fine broad street of princely old mansions, unoccu- 
 pied, 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 discomfort it 
 appeared ; a long, crowded table of busy feeders, 
 and unheeded musicians carelessly playing their worst 
 pieces. The next day, however, when 1 was neither 
 hot nor dusty, I enjoyed the table cPhote much. 
 
 Mayence is, to my eye, a very interesting place ; 
 
38/ GERMANY. 
 
 a man might stand rooted for a whole evening in the 
 middle of its long bridge, looking down that une- 
 qualled valley 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 changing 
 tints, till, in the all-grey dusk, it stands black and 
 solemn above the mass of habitations, just veiled by 
 the rising vapours. The evening 1 was on the pro- 
 menade there was music, martial music, but soft 
 breathing, 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 theatre 
 of war, and scarce a city on the 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 
 
GERMAIN \. 
 
 the credit of the Sovereign Duke, of whose indif- 
 ference to the general welfare of the city, as well 
 as to these little objects of their pride, they largely 
 complain. In weighing, however, the discontent of 
 the inhabitants of Mayence, it is necessary to remem- 
 ber that they were greatly favoured by France, and 
 greatly enriched by the constant passage of her 
 troops into Germany. 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 Guttenburg tablet 
 ranks high : at the time of my visit it was in peculiar 
 honour, in consequence of a paper war 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, recalls the name and renown of Drusus. 
 The traveller is conducted to view and ascend it by 
 an Austrian orderly. It looks down proudly, and 
 rather contemptuously on the unpicturesque forms of 
 the modern works, and upon cannon, those meaner 
 engines that in the day of Rome were not. 
 
 In the cathedral are found many old tombs, to 
 which the vergers 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 sculp- 
 ture 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. 
 
40 GERMANY. 
 
 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 war- 
 riors, 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 
 specimen of Henry of Meissen, although the engrav- 
 ing of his tomb forms the appropriate frontispiece 
 to that interesting volume. 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 humanized, 
 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. 1 have read some- 
 where, 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 unwed- 
 ded. 
 
 On the morrow I left Mayence, delighted with my 
 short sojourn, and looking back on it all the way to 
 Biberich with admiration and regret. There is a 
 chateau at this place belonging to the prince of Nas- 
 sau ; it is pleasantly situated in a garden on the 
 banks of the Rhine. I left my carriage at 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 1 came sud- 
 denly on a glass door, and saw persons seated, and 
 moving within. I hurried past, and, at a side-door 
 m the wing of the building, asked if there was any 
 
GERMANY. 41 
 
 part of the chateau to be seen. From two persons 
 I got a " ya" u ya" but no instruction or offer of 
 assistance. Near the stables I saw two grooms in 
 quiet liveries of grey. One of these, a smart hand- 
 some man, returned with me, and spoke to the maitre 
 d'hotel, who was standing in a full suit of black close 
 to a maid servant, engaged in washing silver plates 
 as they were brought from table This majordomo 
 gave a gracious u ya" the maid two, and a nod ; the 
 groom pointed out the way up stairs, bowed respect- 
 fully, and went away. 1 mounted, and found myself 
 at liberty to pass along galleries, with bed-chamber 
 doors half open, and seemingly, not long deserted by 
 their occupants, till, at length, opening a door 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 la fourchette, and 
 waited on by several attendants, in full suits of black, 
 with shoulder knots of orange ribbon. At a glance 
 1 saw all this, and that the party were eating off 
 silver, but I instantly retired ; not that I believe I 
 should have done anything contrary to usage by sit- 
 ting the scene out; but to a plain Englishman 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 nobleman, 
 or country gentleman, as into his. 
 
 From hence I drove to Weisbaden, a small place of 
 baths, with just that sort of aspect that seems dis- 
 tinctly to say, here you either must be happy, or pre- 
 tend to be. Smile and stay io welcome ; but if you 
 begin to sigh, away with you. The place is all white. 
 
i% GERMANY. 
 
 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, although 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 bonneted. She 
 was a handsome woman of vulgar beauty, if 1 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 Weisbaden, called 
 the Kursal, appropriated to public amusements ; it 
 is three hundred and Miy feet in length, by one hun- 
 dred 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, music, all un- 
 der the same roof, and, in the arcades adjoining, such 
 shops as are always to be met with at watering-pla- 
 ces, 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 activity 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 intolerably 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 excellent : he 
 wili find at the casino English newspapers and re- 
 views ; and it is just a spot for repose and letter- 
 writing*. 
 
GERMANY. 4J 
 
 I passed a morning in the Picture Gallery. It ha3 
 not much to boast of, but there are many specimens 
 of the old German 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. 
 
 In the garden-house of a merchant 1 saw the ad- 
 mired statue of Ariadne, by Dannecker. To my 
 eye the figure is altogether too large, too fleshy. It 
 is exhibited with a great parade for producing, arti- 
 ficially, 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 loath- 
 some 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 interesting 
 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 countrywomen sadly caricatured in a drama, the 
 name of which I cannot remember. Spencers 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 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. 
 
44 GERMANY. 
 
 who is walking London bridge at the same moment* 
 and with the like intent. There are scenes ot' 
 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 costume in 
 Germany is in general, especially as it regards the 
 early and middle ages, correct, and the acting most 
 natural and impressive. There was a lady (from 
 Prussia I believe) in one of the boxes of surpassing- 
 beauty : there really seemed a light all about her. 
 
 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 costume, in general, the genUemen of Frankfort 
 are not to be distinguished from those seen daily on 
 our Royal Exchange. The old part of the town is 
 dirty enough, nevertheless its narrow streets have a 
 very peculiar 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 proclamations. Neither the Elec- 
 tion Kail 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 attending 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 monument erect- 
 ed to the memory of the brave and devoted Hes- 
 sians, who fell at the assault of the city in 1792. 
 There is a huge and hollow helmet on this monu- 
 ment which greatly pleased me. as did the whole 
 
GERMANY. 
 
 memorial, although I am aware that in strict taste 
 the style and proportions may be considered faulty. 
 
 The road to Darmstadt traverses a very noble 
 pine-forest. The town, though small, has a hand- 
 some, court-like look ; the square is really tine, 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 paint- 
 ings, 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 rehearsals of the 
 opera of Fernan Cortez, where the Duke himself, 
 the scroll of leader in his hand, governed his orches- 
 tra in person. 1 largely forgave him his hobby, 
 while I listened to his fine full band, and, if he would 
 only be a little more considerate to Mayence, should 
 regard this harmless folly not very indefensible: he 
 might have tastes quite as costly, though they would 
 be regarded as more princely. May it not be a be- 
 guilement, in which he seeks to conceal from him- 
 self the nothingness of his poor sovereignty, and to 
 console himself under a sad bodily infirmity ? I was 
 particularly struck by one thing ; although he is 
 crooked, has an infirm and bending gait, and an im- 
 patience of manner, which might tempt to ridicule, 
 yet does he bear himself withal so much the gentle- 
 man 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 remain- 
 ed at Darmstadt for the final representation : the 
 
4* GERMANY. 
 
 scenery was fine, the costumes of the Spanish cha- 
 racters excellent, in the true old Oastilian taste. 
 Those of the Peruvians were, of necessity, fanciful 
 rather than correct. The theatre was very brilliant 
 and well lighted. With the sole exception of the 
 prima donna., the singing was not at all remarkable ; 
 but the instrumental music was perfect. The cho- 
 russes, 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 col- 
 lector, becomes dear to the man of imagination. 
 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 painter's name is John Schorel ; 
 the canvass 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 cross, Mary Magdalen, and St. John, 
 by — Unknown. 
 
 I pity the man who dares not admire a picture be- 
 cause it wants the magic mint press of a name. My 
 perfect ignorance of the art leaves me in this point 
 happily independent. 1 rejoice to be pleased, and I 
 want no sanction for mv admiration 
 
GEEMANY. 
 
 There is a fine Domenichino in this collection, the 
 subject, the Prophet Nathan's Accusation of David. 
 Nathan is a strongiy marked prophetic form and face, 
 terrific in gesture, and mantled in deep red. The 
 king is starfng, and has the wide stare of terror. I 
 admire the painting, but like not this way of telling 
 that awfui story. Nothing, perhaps, was more calm, 
 nothing more stilly, than the utterance of " Thou 
 art the man." These simply-whispered 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 Wilder- 
 ness, by Raphael ; a Virgin teaching the Infant Je- 
 sus to read, with Joseph in the back ground, by Lu- 
 dovico Caracci ; a Peter denying Christ to the Maid, 
 by Domenichino ; an Old Man, by Spagnoletto ; a 
 Hagar in the Wilderness, by Pietro de Cortona ; and 
 many others, well rewarding the time passed in gaz- 
 ing on them. 
 
 The court apartments in the castle, which are 
 shown to the visitor, have their interesting old fur- 
 niture, and their gaudy new. The Chamber of the 
 Throne is remarkably rich in its decorations. I 
 could not help calling to mind the speech of Napo- 
 leon in 1814, vvhen, on the invasion of the allies, he 
 so angrily dismissed the Chamber of Deputies, and 
 in the course of which he broke out with his rude 
 but impressive camp-eloquence : " What is it, then, 
 a throne ? only four planks of wood nailed together, 
 and covered with red velvet ! It is not the throne ; 
 it is the man who sits on it — Moi je suis le trone." 
 
 There are many things in this palace presented 
 to the Grand Duke by Napoleon; among others, a 
 very elegant clock from Paris. The device is clas- 
 sical, and in the happiest taste. The figures of each 
 
48 GERMAN r. 
 
 advancing hour issue forth from an urn of alabaster, 
 and the motto is, 
 
 61 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 break- 
 fasted alone in that very cabinet, opposite to his own 
 picture. An anecdote like this I love ; it shows a 
 king confessing his alliance with our common kind, 
 wishing himself again, perhaps, the little uncrowned 
 thing that played free in a nursery, instead of the 
 sceptred monarch, labouring, and that subjectedly, 
 in a closet. Childhood is the season of true royal- 
 ty ; they command 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 Darmstadt, 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 droop- 
 ing 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 conser- 
 vatory full of orange trees, — just the place for a 
 summer f£te, Jn a ramble to the south of the citv, 
 
GERMANY. 48 
 
 1 found on the plain a small camp of horse-artillery, 
 with a large butt for practice ; and the pine-wood 
 near was echoing 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 running footmen. This is 
 old and courtlike; it provokes a smile, however. 
 The less of substance in sovereignty, the more 1 
 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 
 EnglisiHjtrcrk. Of the few pocket volumes I carried 
 with me, I could not bring myself to part with one. 
 Tgave him, however, an old pocket-book, which I 
 chanced never to have written in, so that I furnished 
 him with most important 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. 
 
 The first part of the road from Darmstadt to Hei- 
 delberg lies in a wood of pines. The sun lighted 
 the rough rind of their tall stems with a golden hue, 
 and the shadow of their black branches gave a fine 
 relief to the picture. I stopped at the village of 
 Alsbach, and, directing the carriage to meet me at 
 Auerbach, ascended Mount Meliboecus with a Ger- 
 man peasant-boy 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 
 
m GERMANY, 
 
 is circuitous, now ascends, now dips, then rises again, 
 and winds far about to the tower-crowned summit. 
 Save the wafer, 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 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 exact 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 
 embarrassment. This I state, because I am sure 
 that many travellers, of a certain age, are deterred 
 from visiting that most interesting 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 per- 
 plexing in conversation, its pronunciation rarely to 
 be acquired by a foreigner, after that season when 
 the organs are yet flexible in youth, and of an evi- 
 dent copiousness and richness which few may hope 
 to command but those who have early lisped in it 
 This I say not to excuse indolence, or discourage 
 industry, but to check presumption. Before many 
 talkers of German, French as well as English, the 
 puzzled persons they address, smoke, and remain 
 dumb. Bounding my own efforts most narrowly to 
 
GERMANY. $1 
 
 my daily wants, on a rapid excursion, I each morning 
 renewed my resolve to study and master the reward- 
 ing 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 below and around you lie the wooded 
 and wavy hills of the Odenwald, with here and there 
 a ruined castle on their summits. The whole pre- 
 sents to the eye a very glorious 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. He was very agreeable, and amused 
 me much by a long and thorough German disserta- 
 tion upon the difference of character in his two boys, 
 and its developement in the most minute circum- 
 stances. This he was exemplifying to me, as they 
 played before 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 disappointed 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 English of the old gentle- 
 man's objection was that true love of father-land, 
 which resented the idea of any but a German born, 
 bred, and resident, treating any subject connected 
 with the history, the institutions, or literature of his 
 country worthily enough. 
 
o2 GERMANY. 
 
 The road from hence to Heidelberg", along what 
 is called the Bergstrasse, is a wonder and a delight: 
 the eye rests on nothing but beauty, fertility, and 
 abundance ; the outstretched hand can touch no 
 branch that is not fruitful ; it has all the appearance 
 of a vast garden ; the very towns 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 his- 
 tory 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 termi-, 
 nates in the valley of the Neckar; the hills, between 
 which the river flows, are picturesque in their cha- 
 racter. On the left bank lies the city of Heidelberg ; 
 upon a wooded cliff above it stands the castle. This 
 ruin greatly disappointed me ; it is a huge pile of 
 building, dilapidated, roofless, windowless. Row 
 above row of square gaping vacuities stare out upon 
 you from wails, 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 visjted 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 en- 
 tranced rapture. 
 
GERMANY. 53 
 
 There are some pinnacle points on the loftiest 
 part of the ruin, surmounted by statues, the attitudes 
 of which are grotesque. In the evening hour they 
 look like living beings, and produce a very fantastic 
 illusion. I did not forget to visit the famed tun; 
 it is like an old Dutch ship on the stocks, a large 
 ribbed vessel, that might contain a sea of wine, and 
 float it safely over an ocean of water. 
 
 I met several students in the gardens, both in 
 groupes and singly. Heidelberg is a university con- 
 taining many hundreds. Of German students 1 can 
 only speak pictorially, 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 forgive. 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 uni- 
 versities 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 safely carry a youth through it, and 
 restore him,<as * a late traveller tells us it does, " to 
 
 * A Tour in Germany, by Jojm Russell, Escmire, vol. i. page 
 193. 
 
SgL GERMANS. 
 
 fall into his own place in the bustling competition oi' 
 society, and lead a peaceful, industrious life, as his 
 father did before him." 
 
 In their universities there is none of that whole- 
 some discipline so honourably distinguishing those 
 of our native country. It was the immediate and 
 shrewd observation of the Duchess of Oldenburgh, 
 on visiting Oxford : — u 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 advantages, let a German 
 traveller arrive at an inn in Oxford, where some of 
 the wilder }'oung gownsmen are holding such a din- 
 ner and supper as we know they sometimes do, and 
 let him go next morning to the theatre, and hear an 
 unpopular vice-chancellor and his proctors hooted, 
 nay, literally, by some, howled at with a tone only 
 suited to a cock-fight ; would it not be pardonable if 
 he were, for a moment, a little staggered about the 
 excellence of our discipline, and the gentleness of 
 our manners ? Yet a little enquiry would soon con- 
 vince him of the true worth and sterling qualities of 
 our students, and enable him to smile away and for- 
 get such trifles, as circumstances 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. 
 
 1 mean not to institute an unfair and impossible 
 comparison between the comparatively wealthy 
 gownsmen at our universities and the poor burschen 
 of Germany, but 1 wsnt 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 worship- 
 pers of knowledge, and lovers of their father-land 
 
GERMAN*. &> 
 
 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 something defined and 
 valuable in permanent guiding principles of life. 
 
 As to the foppery of their eccentric costume, be it 
 remembered, that, a few short years ago, every trifle 
 which distinguished the German from his French 
 enemy, or from those of his own countrymen, cor- 
 rupted by intercourse with their conquerors, was of 
 great importance. It is with such an eye that 1 have 
 looked upon their shapeless coat, their long hair, 
 their bare neck, and the open shirt-collar falling 
 back upon their shoulders. 1 have certainly seen 
 among them the would-be rakish, or rather the 
 rakish and the rude ; but many a cheek have I 
 observed paie 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 
 3'oung, and they dream that Germany might be a 
 free land. When they become men they awake, and 
 see distinctly the cheerless reality. Then, content- 
 ing themselves with personal independence as men, 
 political liberty, as members of a nation, they forget 
 or forego. Germany must go through a dreadful 
 ordeal before she can ever be (what they desire to 
 see her) a country ; she must be made one by some 
 ambitious and wide-conquering usurper, and he, or 
 his successor, chained up by charters, or made noth- 
 ing 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, 
 
 A 
 
56 GERMANY. 
 
 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. I hey 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, fountains ; 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 displeasing, or disappointing to 
 the taste, than a mock ruin ; caught by the aspect 
 of a brown and broken tower, to walk towards 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 rather than solem- 
 nity, 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 grace- 
 ful one. You approach Manheim through a line of 
 numberless small garden-houses, but they are close 
 to each other, situate in small plots of ground, and 
 dusty. Manheim, you are told by guide-books, tra- 
 
GERMANY. 57 
 
 vellers, 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. I 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 1 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 
 beauteous river, as it glides stilly at the evening 
 hour, which rills 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 something in it quite 
 out of character with the general appearance of the 
 city, where the streets are all straight, clean, and 
 new-looking, the houses good and tall, and the citi- 
 zens well clad. It was a pilgrim, a true pilgrim, 
 one who might have served a painter for a model 
 quite as well four hundred years ago as now. He 
 had not at ail 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 leather ; he had a staff 
 and beads, and his shoes had the gathered dust of 
 long travel. His countenance was not ot 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 hit 
 
utf GERMANY. 
 
 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 salu- 
 tary 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 assassin 
 might at such a sight cast away his dagger ; the 
 reveller forsake his wine-cup, 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 cot- 
 tages) 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 corres- 
 ponding well with the appearance of the peasants, 
 who are all fine, stout, erect men. The carriage of 
 the people, indeed, both here and throughout Ger- 
 many, 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 plea- 
 sant 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 amuse- 
 ment, resorted to much in fine weather by all the 
 inhabitants. The path which I followed wound be- 
 tween a well-kept road and a most beautiful green 
 plain. It was planted with trees and shrubs, border- 
 ed with turf, had rural seats, and all around wore 
 the appearance of pleasure-grounds ; all the persons, 
 too, whom 1 met, were walking enjoyingly, and slow. 
 Attracted by the sound of music, 1 made my way to 
 a kind of promenade haus, standing in a garden at 
 Beyertheim. On the steps before a large saloon I 
 
GERMANY. 39 
 
 observed a groupe of officers, and a few civilians. 
 Judging' it to be a place of public amusement, I 
 mounted the steps, and asked a gentleman, in plain 
 clothes, if it was a building 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 festoons 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 ball. They said my 
 mistake was most natural : that, in fact, public balls 
 were often given there, but that this was a subscrip- 
 tion-assembly, supported by the military of the garri- 
 son, a few of the chief inhabitants, and the civilians in 
 public employ, and that the ladies were all of their 
 families. A ball is always a pleasant sight, if con- 
 ducted 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 yesterday ; 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 
 noveltv, — a German assemblv, a circle of waltzers. 
 4* 
 
oU GERMAN !Y. 
 
 I bear testimony, from attentive observation on this 
 evening, to the extreme propriety and decorum with 
 which the Germans dance this their national figure. 
 I take the dance to be one of very great antiquity, 
 as great, perhaps, as the very commencement of 
 men and women joining in the dance together. The 
 sacred dance of the East was entirely confined 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 voluptuousness 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 cen- 
 sure. Here it 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 im- 
 proprieties greater than his own. To him the waltz 
 is customary and innocent ; to us, at home in Old 
 England, it neither is nor ought to be regarded as 
 innocent, and will, I trust, never gain established 
 favour. I have only spoken thus because the Ger- 
 mans 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 ioin in the dance, is not tole- 
 
 
GERMANY. 61 
 
 rated among them ; for, in the cotillion part, a cou- 
 ple 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 as- 
 sembled circle the lady or gentleman 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 appeared to me to 
 have great simplicity and frankness of manner; and 
 there seemed an absence of all encumbering vani- 
 ties 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 to- 
 wards each other may certainly minister delightful- 
 ly, and not without danger, to the silent language of 
 the eye. I thought of all this as I looked on the 
 cheerfully innocent smiles all round me, and remem- 
 bered 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 essentially 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. 
 
 "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." 
 
62 GERMANY. 
 
 One other stanza of this song I must give for the 
 sake of any once admired beile, now in the con- 
 scious 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." 
 
 Lays 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 beau- 
 tiful ; the dark mass of the forest seen on one side, 
 and the white town on the other, contrast very hap- 
 pily ; 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 inelegant square, his bones repose, your 
 heart is agreeably moved by the many strange asso- 
 ciations which mingle themselves with your train of 
 thought. For the solitary blast of some enquiring 
 hunting-horn, you have now full military bands fill- 
 ing wide the air with their brazen and haughty 
 tones ; for the whispered prayer of the benighted 
 wanderer, the hymning of thousands securely assem- 
 bled in their handsome churches. 
 
 In Kastadt I passed only a few hours for the pur- 
 pose of visiting the chateau. Here, in dusty closets 
 and glass-cases, are exhibited numberless trophies 
 taken from the Turks by the warlike Margrave 
 Louis William. Here are tarnished cloths of gold, 
 rusting arms, and housings heavy with embroidery, 
 that the infidel came to battle in, and a horse-tail 
 standard! The traveller, who chances to recollect 
 
GERMANY. 
 
 tiie twent} 7 -second stanza of the Siege of Corinth, 
 may quote it here, if he can get the room to himself, 
 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 page of any thing that delighted 
 was familiar enough to come clear at the bidding 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 per- 
 sonal obligation to poets. The fancy is never in so 
 happy a frame for receiving imagery as in journey- 
 ing; the heart never so ready to listen to the me- 
 lancholy 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 portrait of this ce- 
 lebrated 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 hunting-trophies, such 
 as enormous antlers, and pictures of dogs and keep- 
 ers ; whence, passing up, and out on the roof, you 
 find a colossal statue of Jupiter, gilt, sitting like the 
 god and guardian of the whole. 
 
 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 tranquil scene, think- 
 ing with what a sweet contentment one should awake 
 
64 GERMANY. 
 
 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 cham- 
 ber, 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 Con- 
 tinent to see apartments that have been occupied by 
 Napoleon. He has been everywhere ; in all the 
 palaces in Europe (save ours) ; but the Spirit of tur- 
 bulence, the wielder of so much of our earthly 
 thunder, the king, the conqueror, when you find that 
 he has slept and waked in such a scene, you ask, for 
 a moment, whether 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, cock- 
 ed hat, and buckles in their shoes. The costumes 
 of the women were rather more varied: — some ail 
 in black, and unadorned ; others with little colour- 
 ed or embroidered coifs ; others with fur-caps, hav- 
 ing a red crown and tassels of tinsel. The goods 
 exposed for sale were mostly for common use, and 
 of little variety, and the fair seemed only frequent- 
 ed 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 nothing but 
 a pinching poverty induces even the humblest pea 
 
GERMANY. 
 
 sant to buy cast-off clothing. There were all sorts of 
 farming and kitchen utensils, and numerous stalls for 
 provisions ; also a few with coloured prints, for cot- 
 tage 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 
 purchase, 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 
 immediately 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 aged beggar-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 pass- 
 ed out, and I remained for many minutes alone with 
 the only human form in that deserted tempie. It 
 was the pale corpse of a person, not older than my- 
 self, that lay awaiting the burial. 
 
 In driving out of Rastadt I met several long wag- 
 gons, 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 forget- 
 ting yesterday and to-morrow, were jofted 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, 
 
& GERMAN 1". 
 
 There is a cool hall in the middle of the building, 
 lighted from above, and adorned with four fountains. 
 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 tapes- 
 tried, some embroidered by the hand of the Margra- 
 vine herself and the ladies of her small court. There 
 is one little chamber, the walls of which are entire- 
 ly covered with looking-glass, japan gilt panelling, 
 and a vast number 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 Spanish ; others pret- 
 tily 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 a gourmand ; his huge 
 paunch conceals numerous small drawers for holding 
 spices and other rich ingredients of goul-giving con- 
 diments. Near it hangs a painted board, where, in 
 compartments, the various materials for all high sea- 
 soned and savoury dishes are duly displayed to assist 
 the bewildered memory of that busiest and most 
 important of personages, a head cook, in the clo- 
 sets 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 
 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 representing that which 
 is served up within, as turkey, peacock, wild-fowl. 
 
GERMANY. (if 
 
 boar's head, artichokes, asparagus, cabbages. Two 
 of these last, the lurge 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 write the fact with pain) that of our 
 Saviour. In another is a like figure of .Mary Mag- 
 dalen. 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 pe- 
 nance. I regarded the whole thing as a park toj', 
 and not a very reverent one ; hut 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 beneath her 
 gayest masquerade dress than her breast under these 
 iron tortures ; and, amid sounds of unsatisfying mer- 
 riment, her mind was more deeply goaded than when 
 on her bleeding knees she passed the sad vigil here. 
 
 * The figures are seated at this table. There is a vacant 
 place, which the Margravine was wont to occupy, and the whole 
 thing was designed to represent the Last Supper. 
 
 5 
 
6$ GERMANY. 
 
 How painful to think of is this spirit of fear, at once 
 so humiliating, so agonizing, and so vain, and differ- 
 ing so widely from that which we are promised and 
 commanded 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 Strasburg, 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 inconsiderable ; but then it 
 is a stream that flows from hills, and hills of no com- 
 mon 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 re- 
 tired place of baths lies deep-nestling in as sweet a 
 bosom as nature ever formed. 
 
 It was with some difficulty I got accommodated, 
 and that in a bad hotel, the best being full ; but the 
 view from my window at once soothed and content- 
 ed 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, and with 
 a sound so sullen, so very mournful, 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 through- 
 out all Germany, is said to have held its awful sit- 
 tings. The upper rooms are sufficiently cheerful, 
 and the large hall is surrounded by portraits of irar- 
 
GERMANY. oj 
 
 riors in armour ; among them is one in hermit robe, 
 and bearded. 
 
 It was growing late, but I walked on into the 
 country, in the direction of the old castle. The 
 views, on all sides, were beautiful; 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 concealed 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 ex- 
 ceeded. 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 little girl with her, about six 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 light- 
 ly 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 ?" — u Qwe je suis charme 
 de vous avoir rencontre" — " Le bete qxCon m'a donne 
 pour me conduire ici ne comprend pas un mot" — The 
 undisturbed guide came slowly after, and the young 
 Parisian ran on with " Vous allez monter, Monsieur" 
 — " Ah ! la vue est rnagnifique, superbe." — " Mais vous 
 Hes deja trop tard." — u Est ce que je vous accompag- 
 nerai ?" — u Je remonterai" — u Non, eh bien, je vous 
 attendrai ici bas. — Vous reviendrez bientot. — // fera 
 bientot nuit^ et je ne crois pas que le chemin soit sure" 
 — After extricating myself with not a little difficulty 
 from this volunteer companion, I passed on. he call- 
 
70 GERMANY. 
 
 mg after me, ;i Monsieur, vous ne resterez pas long 
 temps ; il est dejd, bien tard ; je vous attendrai" — You 
 may, methought,— 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 turning, there lay before me the Black Forest. 
 
 u Schwartzwald," was uttered by the soft and in- 
 Docent voice of my little guide. The words sound- 
 ed magically in my ear; the scene at that moment 
 was gloom of the deepest. The forms of the forest 
 bills are wavy and shadowy ; the night was falling 
 on them. I sent down the little child to her mother, 
 and remained till all was curtained by blackness. I 
 slowly descended, and passed out of the arched gate- 
 way, without hearing any sound but the slowly-ut- 
 tered " icutte nacht" of the gentle little Johanna. It 
 has a kind, a meaning, a protecting sound, that 
 c; gutte nacht ;" and the "felicissima notte" of Italy 
 Is a heartless piece of business compared to it. 
 
 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 character to 
 the scene which impresses the mind with something 
 that, but for religion, would be terror, and, in spite 
 of it, partakes 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- 
 
GERMANY. 71 
 
 cutters and sawyers busily engaged at their clean 
 labours The court of the old convent of Lichten- 
 thal is farm-like ; in the quadrangle are stables, im- 
 plements of husbandry, and straw-litter. 1 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 Durer's; and I heard the innocent, cheerful 
 sound of children's voices at their school-lesson is- 
 sue 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 re- 
 marked, with any attention, the tombs of an abbess 
 and of a priest. They lay in their strait shapeless 
 length in hard stone ; but the scuiptor had contrived 
 to.give to the countenances of both a something of 
 softness and expression that might almost be called 
 beauty. 1 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 them- 
 selves. In the small chapel, near these, is a monu- 
 ment 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 habit of reading 
 such things with a traveller's gaze alone enables 
 you to translate into a lion. On a tomb, near these, 
 is another 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 before said, of the old German 
 5* 
 
72 GERMANY: 
 
 paintings, is like reading" old ballads ; snatches ol' 
 such old compositions come to you like remembered 
 airs, and furnish appropriate music. 
 
 In my second walk to the old castle I started ear- 
 ly, 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 juxtaposi- 
 tion with the order of the Black Eagle ; the Austri- 
 an prince with the 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 eomfort, are very attrac- 
 tive to the taste, and I think it one of the most de- 
 lightful places of summer resort with which I am 
 acquainted. 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 distance, 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 in- 
 ferior order; and, accordingly, there is a prome- 
 nade 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 exhibit- 
 ing as little decency as sense. The principal spring, 
 called the Ursprung, and that sty ied the Holienquelle, 
 where they literally come and scald their fowls, are 
 
GERMANY. ; 
 
 those visited by strangers as objects of curiosit}'. 
 The antiquarian taste may find an hour's amusement 
 in a small museum of Roman monuments, 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 knapsack 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 sixpence, but he rejects at 
 once a petitioner of such appearance, and with a 
 feeling of anger or contempt. A German in the car- 
 riage, to judge from externals penurious in his ha- 
 bits, questioned and relieved him. My curiosity was 
 excited, and the gratification of it tended to correct, 
 a feeling of prejudice which had arisen out of igno- 
 rance, and which I rejoiced to have removed. 
 
 He told me that it was the custom, throughout 
 Germany, for young men learning a trade to travel 
 for two or three years, taking journey-work in dif- 
 ferent towns or cities in their route, before they set- 
 tled in their calling at home ; that it often happened 
 they were disappointed of obtaining labour, and not 
 unfrequently had to journey long distances, depend- 
 ent on the liberality of those whom they met, or of 
 the town where they passed the night. This it was 
 delightful to know, as it henceforth became a plea- 
 sure and a duty to assist them. I like not the sys- 
 tem ; 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 fa- 
 
74 GERMANY. 
 
 vourable either to a becoming spirit of independence, 
 or to steady industry. It must be confessed, how- 
 ever, that there is nothing of the mean suppliant in 
 their application ; the hat is taken off, and the ques- 
 tion is asked in a plain, frank manner, and seldom in 
 vain, for the Germans are a most friendly, generous, 
 and a very considerate people. 
 
 Strasburg is a large uninteresting city, a frontier 
 garrison, a place of rest, relay, and conference for 
 generals and ambassadors. The inns are still full of 
 the recollections of the war, and of the great men 
 who have occupied their chambers. Here, there- 
 fore, 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 unoccu- 
 pied apartment in a large, straggling, empty hotel. 
 Such was my fate. 1 consoled myself by a good sup- 
 per and a bottle of excellent wine. An English gen- 
 tleman came into the saloon and took coffee opposite 
 to me. We naturally fell into conversation ; and as 
 the talk of travellers generally runs on travelling, 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 direction. Though averse from a travel- 
 ling companion, especially a stranger, I agreed to 
 journey with this gentleman to Schaffhausen through 
 the Hollenthal. My companion proved a most agree- 
 able, full-minded man, with a well-thumbed Euripi- 
 des 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 sha- 
 dow, but when the light shines through its open 
 tower and spiral turrets it seems a fairy structure. 
 
GERMANS. 
 
 1 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 celebra- 
 ted Marshal Saxe. The Marshal 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 conceits and defects of this monument, 
 as a whole, they are abundantly redeemed by that 
 one statue. 
 
 The effect on the beholder will be different ac- 
 cording 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 u the archangel's trump not glory's" that 
 shall awaken him and the youthful minister whose 
 early death and hnllowed life are recorded on a mo- 
 dest tablet of marble, not far from the encumbered 
 monument of the warrior. The nameless persons 
 who gave the humble slab, at once briefly and beau- 
 tifully describe the character and worth of the de- 
 parted, by representing themselves as "lugentes ami- 
 cu auditor es gratiP 
 
7b* GERMANY. 
 
 One of the most truly characteristic figures that I 
 saw in the city of Strasburg was a French officer of 
 rank, short in stature, with large epaulettes hanging 
 forwards upon rounded shoulders, and these last rais- 
 ed 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 
 unmilitary, that you might traverse Germany for 
 such a figure in vain. Yet was his breast covered 
 with disregarded 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 soldiers of humble rank, such 
 as captains, and those below them, had that blank 
 air of settled disappointment and increasing ennui 
 which, though silently, was yet distinctly and conti- 
 nually asking, " Is this the end ?"—" Was it all a 
 dream V] — " Were we really the conquerors of all 
 Europe ?" Yes, happily, 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 remembrance 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 ri- 
 ver, that Napoleon, in 1809, issued one of those 
 brief orders to his army on suddenly joining and put- 
 ting it in motion, which at once prophesied and pro- 
 duced 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 friend- 
 
GERMANY. 71 
 
 ship and fidelity to him; it spoke of moderation and 
 generosity to that power (with little regard to truth) ; 
 it accused her of breaking a solemn treaty by pass- 
 ing 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: — "Mar- 
 chons, et qrfa vue de nous, que les Autrichiens recon- 
 noissent 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 Fri- 
 burgh was at a small town, the name of which I 
 have forgotten, though I well remember how the 
 aspect of the long old street delighted me. Its 
 quaint fronts, and its numerous bay-windows, are 
 striking features, although these last might be judg- 
 ed 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 ur- 
 chin 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 dis- 
 tinguished, even in this old place, by superior anti- 
 quity of front, being richly ornamented with old, 
 black carved wood-work. 
 
 The landlord came to the door, not out, and salut- 
 ed us; then asked the driver, while we were de- 
 scending, if we spoke German, and if we wanted din- 
 ner ; which last question he repeated to us as we 
 entered the house, and being replied to in the affirm- 
 ative, he walked slowly to order it. The room was 
 quite a picture : — several old heavy tables ; long. 
 
78 GERMANY. 
 
 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 zvppen 
 at another; while a third was slowly and deliberate- 
 ly 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 heavj' press of black wood, delivered to him 
 from a countless store in which she seemed to pride 
 herself, and then resumed her occupation with a 
 plain unbustling 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 
 and display, it must be somewhat mortifying. Our- 
 selves at one table, our driver at another, the old 
 wayfaring man, the young boors, were all served 
 with like attention of manner. Our fare was good, 
 our wine excellent. The host said a word at one 
 table, a " gut en 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 Ger- 
 many are often represented by travellers as surly, de- 
 ficient in courtesy, and unwilling to accommodate. 
 It is not impossible that some of them, having suffer- 
 ed 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 
 
GERMANY. T9 
 
 himself the master 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 manner, 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 personal inde- 
 pendence of the individual German strikes you very 
 forcibly, and it is, perhaps, the kind of contentment 
 which this generates, combined with a consciousness 
 that Germany can never be one great united nation, 
 which renders him so indifferent 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 traveller finds comfort, 
 cleanliness, and civility. We drove through a very 
 beautiful country on a most pleasant morning to Fri- 
 burgh. 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 enlivening. 
 
 The pride of Friburgh is its cathedral. It is 
 among the oldest in Germany. Its tower with the 
 spire, by which it is surmounted, is five hundred and 
 thirteen feet in height, and is said to vie for renown 
 with that of Strasburg. Seen from below or from a 
 distance it certainly does not produce an effect so 
 6 
 
GO GERMANY. 
 
 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 natu- 
 rally 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 powerful- 
 ly struck with the taste of the design, with the la- 
 bour, 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 temple ; such as the Persian might have 
 worshipped in ; as open to the light and air of hea- 
 ven as a mountain's top ; a place where you al- 
 most fancy that angels might delight to gather and 
 stand with white wings folded, and all attent for hu- 
 man 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 yester- 
 day ; the white and yellow washes on the walls Iook- 
 ed fresh ; the pictures and their frames were clean. 
 In cathedrals I love " dusty splendour." Those 
 words, however, stand alone for the banner-tapestri- 
 ed roof of some vast and glorious pile, like our West- 
 minster-abbey. 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 
 frequented by several of the students, I noticed one 
 
GERMA.W 81 
 
 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 far- 
 mers ? The inscription on this was, " Jlnsicht in 
 alles," — u Foresight in all things," — the sensible cau- 
 tion of some prudent mother ; and very honourable 
 was it to see that the young man to whom it belonged 
 could fearlessly use it in public among his associates. 
 I should like to have seen such a youth ; but we set 
 forward again before the party assembled. The fact 
 is, that you cannot laugh home out of a young Ger- 
 man's heart. I will venture to say, that any person, 
 thoroughly conversant in the German language, might 
 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 Hollenthal : this is 
 a very disappointing misnomer : 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 hanging in 
 those frightfully-suspended fragments that menace 
 the traveller, every moment, with a crushing death, 
 and the torrent's voice, and the boiling bubble of 
 waters that have fallen headlong from high steeps. 
 These things your fancy images forth in the Hollen- 
 thal, 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 con- 
 trary, 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, 
 
32 GERMANY. 
 
 delightful little inn, Welsh-like. It is situated 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 linger in, never to 
 leave : the sights are velvet meadows and sheltering 
 hills, and hlack fir-screens, and cottages, house-cottages 
 for large families, with pent-house roofs, or hroad 
 projecting eaves, and covered all over with shingles, 
 or tiles of wood, being 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 objects 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 la- 
 bourers. 
 
 On the day on which we passed the Hollenthal, 
 almost all through the valley they were getting in 
 their after-grass ; and nothing could be more pictu- 
 resque than the effect of the many groupes of hay- 
 makers, — first, from the beautiful site of almost all 
 these meadows, — next, from 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, conveying 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, 
 such as suited with the blue cold grey of that even- 
 ing'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 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 of black meat, and bread and wine alike sour, made 
 us glad to creep between coarse paillasses of straw, 
 and forget 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 scene was 
 gratifying. The same afternoon we reached Schaff- 
 hausen. 
 
 Switzerland is to no thinking mind a strange coun- 
 try : we form acquaintance with it in books, in draw- 
 ings, in models, by every after-dinner talk : dine 
 where you will, some man has seen the lake of Gene- 
 va and Montblanc; and you can ask no question 
 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 1 saw and felt, in a very short traverse of that 
 most interesting line of countrj', from Schaffhausen 
 to the St. Gothard. This is German Switzerland, 
 and partakes, in many ways, of the sober and ster- 
 ling character of the father-land. The town of Schaff- 
 hausen is German in aspect, the houses quaint and 
 old-fashioned, the appearance of the people staid 
 and quiet, and their dress plain, and without any 
 singularity. A few peasant women, whom 1 saw on 
 the bridge, wore a head-dress of black crape, not 
 becoming, but yet interesting to the stranger's eye, 
 as the provincial costume of the lower orders. 
 
 My companion and myself strolled slowly about 
 the town, and among the quiet gardens in the sub- 
 urbs, and at last seated ourselves on a low wall, 
 just without the gate, close by the Rhine, at that 
 
34 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 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 travellers ; what, then, do 
 they expect ? Sanguine as 1 am, and much as 1 have 
 seen, my expectations were surpassed. Visiting them, 
 as we did, from Schaff hausen, our views came exactly 
 in the order which 1 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 approach the rocks, their motion slack- 
 ens 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 sum- 
 mer-house, lean from the window, and look imme- 
 diately 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 gran- 
 deur, 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 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. £3 
 
 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 slippery 
 plank, and leaned upon the rail, — wet and trembling 
 — not with fear ; every thing trembles ; the board 
 you stand on, the rail which 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 rebuked 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 
 admire, 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 backwarder in fear. I think the Rhine-falls 
 glorious : the view I least enjoyed is the full front 
 one from the house or mill on the other side of the 
 river, and that in crossing 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 together, 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 Lilliputianised. It is a fine lesson 
 of humility to see thus a crowded and fashionable 
 
06 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 esplanade, a race-course, a review, a procession ; 
 but a mountain and a waterfall should never be 
 reduced to miniature size, save by the draughtsman, 
 where, as he can never give the hue of nature and 
 the motion of life, yoii take his sketch, as it is 
 intended, for a memento, an aid to the memory and 
 the imagination. 
 
 We proceeded on our route, and dined at Winter- 
 thur. After our repast we walked forwards, leaving 
 the carriage to overtake us, The road is pleasant : 
 the country 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, how- 
 ever, 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 features 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 preserved the 
 letters of Lady Jane Grey to Bullinger. The hand- 
 writing is the beautiful scholar-hand of the period in 
 which she lived. My companion kissed her signa- 
 ture (for which I liked him the better) : perhaps I 
 should have done so. had I been alone; but without 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 87 
 
 you originate an act of folly it has no charm for you. 
 We went to the armory, and, among other relics, 
 saw the cross-how of William Tell. The name and 
 the fame of Tell are one, and enough ; hut in this 
 part of Switzerland they serve it up after a fashion 
 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 provokingly 
 represented in a pair of tight white pantaloons, 
 chapeau a plume, veste a 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 Switzerland. 
 
 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, 
 where he was wont to walk, and in or near which 
 he was slain, when the fierce troops of Massena pos- 
 sessed themselves of this helpless and unoffending 
 city. 
 
 The route towards Zug is delightful. The views 
 of the Zurich lake are enchanting, and ever varying. 
 The look back upon the city in ascending a hill a 
 few miles distant is particularly fine ; and as you 
 drive forward new features of the lake open 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 Rlghi- and Mount 
 Pilate stood on either side of this picture in the fore- 
 ground, and their dark and wild forms, especially that 
 of Pilate, gave a wonderful effect to the snowy sum- 
 mits, which filled the centre and back-ground, and 
 
$8 GERMAN SWITZERLAND 
 
 rose pure and clear into the blue sky. The scene 
 had a stilling power. Your senses are afterwards 
 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 campagne here about a mile and a half 
 from the town, situated most delightfully, and com- 
 manding 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 eventide. It is alto- 
 gether a sweet spot: I saw not one in my brief pas- 
 sage 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 little 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 ossuary, where 
 the piled skulls are preserved, and on, or underneath 
 many of them, on a pasted slip of paper, }'ou read 
 the name of the dead. Most painful sights these. 
 I like not gilding on the grave ; still less do 1 like 
 to see a name, that thing which calls up features, 
 and all that may have been endearing in their expres- 
 sion, written upon a sightless, 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 
 earlv flowers and evergreen shrubs in all burial 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 89 
 
 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 ourselves at Art, and 
 ascended this monarch of mountains from Goldau. 
 Where is Goldau ? you ask. It was here, is the 
 reply, as you arrive in a desolate vaie, filled with 
 huge fragments of rock, which have bedded them- 
 selves 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 together with 
 those masses of rock on the fatal second of Septem- 
 ber, 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 Gol- 
 dau, 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 hun- 
 dred persons perished. The cheerful guide, who 
 was accompanying the pleasure party up the Righi, 
 on that morning, started at the terrific noise, looked 
 back, and saw the end of his little world. The 
 Swiss soldier, in his distant camp, learned that ftte 
 
90 GERMAN SWITZERLAND 
 
 bad lost, 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 
 unfertile, save where, here and there, a little coarse 
 grass is mowed for fodder, — mowed by some grey 
 and widowed labourer, who works slowly and bro- 
 kenly 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 meadows, 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, con- 
 siderably higher, where, as night now fell, we deter- 
 mined 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 con- 
 sumed amid clouds of smoke. We were fortunate 
 enough to get each a little chamber to ourselves. 
 Mine was a clean closet, and, though small, cool 
 with the mountain air ; a healthy and a happy sleep- 
 ing place. The morning brought its disappointment 
 The guide awoke me to say. that there was a heavy 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 91 
 
 fog, and that we should be able to see nothing at 
 sunrise whatever. We did not, therefore, rise till it 
 was light, and then proceeded up towards the Coulme. 
 We met several parties descending : in one I recog- 
 nized an acquaintance, who gave the natural reproach 
 for not sleeping on the Coulme, and being up and 
 out before dawn, bui added the frank confession, 
 that it had been impossible to see 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 leisurely in the deserted 
 hotel ; 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 undis- 
 turbed by any of those large travelling groups who 
 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 mountain-crowd, 
 — their glorious apparel, their wild array, head 
 behind head, here snowy, there black, all still, — a 
 world in themselves, — nothing to live, and play, and 
 move upon them, but the sunbeam and the shadow, 
 When, sated with this most sublime picture of the 
 majesty of the Creator, vou look below, there lies 
 7 
 
92 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 at the very mountain foot the little Lake of Zug,— 
 a thing, 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 Kusnacht side, 
 presents a succession of fine views. About a third 
 of the way down, we met two peasant girls of Lu- 
 cerne going up to the chapel at the hospice, in the 
 full costume of their province. This is Switzerland ; 
 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 iong braids behind, interwoven and adorn- 
 ed with a ribbon of pink ; a neck-kerchief, of a pret- 
 ty plaid like check, is wrapped flatly and modestly 
 over the bosom, nearly to the throat ; round the 
 white throat is a collar of black velvet ; the white 
 sleeves of the under vest hang full and loose at the 
 shoulder, leaving bare the fore arm ; a coloured cor- 
 set 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 travel- 
 ler 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 paint- 
 ing on the wall commemorates Tell's history. 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 93 
 
 We walked slowly into the town. The church 
 he\h were ringing, and all the inhabitants hurrying 
 there in their holiday dresses. The men appear to 
 have preserved little remarkable in their costume ; 
 but the women were either dressed as I have de- 
 scribed 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. 1 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 pass- 
 ers-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 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 coun- 
 try as to become the model of it, was seen by a 
 wealthy traveller, desired, and purchased — purchas- 
 ed 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 iirst suitor. 
 
94 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 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 
 darling sins in a fitting atmosphere ? 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 corruption, serve his base 
 turn ? — why come to 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 inno- 
 cence 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, 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 su- 
 blime 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 unsa- 
 tisfied, disappointed, and impatient of their solitudes ? 
 — I think so, and I hope that I am not mistaken. 
 
 The inn at Kusnacht commands a most delightful 
 view of the lake from its windows. 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. The scene 
 of the morning in my memory, the figures 1 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 
 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 05 
 
 feeling of unminglcd gratitude for a draught of no 
 common happiness. 
 
 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 cu- 
 rious 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 
 retired of these fields we met a young German stu- 
 dent, with u horrid hair,'' who certainly looked sus- 
 picious and guilty. We thought, from many infalli- 
 ble 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 
 provoking!)' slow, that he had to compress the god 
 within him for many minutes. In the morning we 
 visited the church, 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 expressive. 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 ani- 
 
96 GERMAN SWITZERLAND, 
 
 mal is not yet quite closed, and the feeble growl of 
 a fidelity, that must soon cease to avail for any pur- 
 pose of defence, seems parting, only with the last 
 gasp of life, from the open and relaxing jaws. 
 In large letters above is sculptured — 
 
 HELVETIORUM FIDEI AC V1RTUTI. 
 
 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 ourselves 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 adversity fell most 
 heavily on their ro} r al patrons, and when the deser- 
 tion of them might have secured not only life but 
 reward, nay, future distinction, (and I need hardly 
 add, amid draughts of prosperity a quick oblivion 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 of the four cantons, I 
 strive in vain to image to myself what it can pre- 
 sent. The day was most favourable ; 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 cha- 
 lets, 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 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 91 
 
 poets : his choicest words, his finest melody of verse 
 must fail him. There are objects in such scenery, 
 and hues on them, for which language has no names; 
 and there is a hallowed music "i' the air," breath- 
 ing 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, as you go up into Altorf, 
 you pass the famed meadow, the Rutlin. 
 
 Altorf is a town as dull, as blank, as still as a con- 
 vent wail. In the silent market-place is a tall un- 
 sightly tower : 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 uncommon 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 Achil- 
 les crest, and her grey hairs all drawn up, and back 
 from her forehead and temples, tight, smooth, and 
 cleanly. Her face was full, round, and rosy as the 
 clean-shaved, well-fed canon of a cathedral ; and, in 
 truth, but for the corset and petticoat, she did great- 
 ly resemble such canons as you find a few of, in all 
 countries where there are fair complexions. 
 
03 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 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 indolent and unchanging. 
 
 We proceeded, on the following morning, up the 
 valley of the Reuss. It is a most grand, soul-satis- 
 fying scene. We took refreshment in a true cottage- 
 inn, with panelled chamber and painted crucifix, 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 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 this valley which, fine 
 as it is, at all disappointed me, was the Pont du 
 Diable : the much-exaggerated account of its sublime 
 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 \ndermatt, 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 Hos- 
 pital to sleep : it was already dark when we arrived. 
 In the guest-chamber we found a Hanoverian officer 
 and an English gentleman at supper, whom we had 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 before seen at Zurich, and crossed at other points of 
 our route. My companion, who designed turning 
 back into Switzerland from this place, and revelling 
 among the strange beauties of the vale of Chamou- 
 ny, and the Mer de Glace, employed the next day 
 in a short excursion to the hospice of St. Gothard. 
 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 hospice and a few goatherds' huts. 
 It takes four hours to ascend the Furca : it is a long 
 sloping vale, between 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 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 terri- 
 fic appearance which some tourists have spoken of. 
 Still, a slip could not easily be recovered, and both 
 horse and rider might fall into the stream far be- 
 neath, and be seriously injured, if not destroyed. 
 Such accidents, however, are rare, and the possibi- 
 lity of their occurrence was only anxiously suggest- 
 ed to my mind by the sight of a party, about half a 
 league before me, consisting of two English ladies, a 
 
100 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 gentleman, 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 1 watched 
 their giddy course. The Reuss is crossed twice on 
 those fine rude pass-stones, which break and give 
 such beauty to the rivuiet among these Alps. On 
 reaching the Furca, I observed that their guide took 
 them to the height on the left, where they seated 
 themselves to refresh ; I therefore passed wide of 
 them, to the right. At a certain point, commanding, 
 it is true, a most glorious prospect, and showing a 
 fine bed of glacier in the distance, my guide stopped 
 me, saying, that this was the spot from which tra- 
 vellers generally viewed the glacier of the Rhone, 
 and from whence they returned. This I do not be- 
 lieve ; 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 ever- 
 green 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 
 present bed, I was moved with wonder, as if 1 had 
 seen a vision. The whole of that rifted ridge seem- 
 ed but one bright wall of pyramid, and obelisk, and 
 ppire. builded in white snow by spirits, the ministers 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 101 
 
 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 remark that 
 the snow, whose kindred peaks shine from above 
 with such a dazzling transparent brightness, is be- 
 neath your feet^ in many places, soiled and disco- 
 loured : 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 wa- 
 ters. 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, which here cracks 
 to the foot, there glistens meltingly in the hot sun- 
 beam, and is here again broken by rude chasms and 
 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, spirit- 
 ual, immortal. 
 
 As 1 walked back by the edge of the glacier, I 
 met the ladies, and the gentleman who attended 
 them, coming along the path towards the GrimseL 
 They dismounted, and went a few yards on the 
 bed of the ice. After they passed on, I went down 
 to the spot, that 1 might have the pleasure of seeing 
 woman's foot-print in such a scene. Ah ! what wo- 
 man 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 lau^b. I 
 cannot tell how very wild and fearfu t ey so ed 
 in that solitude: it was only the cry o some ar- 
 mot hunters, whom the guide well ju*ew ; yei it 
 
102 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 shook and stirred me strangely; methought they 
 were laughing too near Heaven. 
 
 I descended towards the hospice with the sinking 
 day; the shadows were spreading fast and far; the 
 mountain-herds, and their rude pastors, creeping to 
 lower shelter ; and, when 1 reached the hospice, the 
 capuchin was reading the vesper-service to the goat- 
 herds assembled in the chapel. I stood uncovered 
 and silent at the door, and listened to the well-known 
 melancholy murmur of that service. 1 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. 1 observed blear 
 eyes, and blains, and sores from cold winds, and 
 stones, and snow. Such are the mountaineers 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 Andermatt, relations, live 
 with him. They formed quite a contrast to the po- 
 pulation of the rude hamlet, being both of them 
 pretty, one remarkably so. Lest I should uninten- 
 tionally raise a smile at the expense of the poor ca- 
 puchin (and I am not fond of capuchins), I think it 
 right to add, that it was evident, to the observing 
 glance, their intercourse was of the most innocent 
 nature. He was a man of a certain age, painfully 
 plain, and of a sad, dull, unintelligent appearance. 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 bles- 
 sings, if it were only that they light up a dwelling* 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. io3 
 
 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 sup- 
 per. We interchanged our accounts of what had 
 struck or delighted either. I here parted with the 
 gentleman who had accompanied me for many days. 
 It is impossible for two men to travel for even so 
 short a period together, and to separate, without 
 some feeling of regret, especially if they have stood 
 side by side, and gazed on such objects as we had vi- 
 sited together. Our sentiments differed on many 
 points, as we soon discovered ; but I must say, that I 
 have rarely met a man with whom 1 could so happi- 
 ly " agree to differ." I shall long recollect, with 
 pleasure, my journey from Strasburg to the St. Go- 
 thard, 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 for- 
 ward alone. 
 
 The ascent and passage of this mountain are in- 
 conceivably grand. The grandeur of which I speak 
 is dark, desolate, terrific ; all is rock, granite rock, 
 in rude and mighty masses, not impending or threat- 
 ening, but lying stern and still. The hue of every 
 thing is iron ; the sight and the sound of water alone 
 remind you of the mercy of that Being who created 
 the awful wilderness 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 charac- 
 ter,— was grave and dull, as one habituallv oppress- 
 8 
 
104 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 ed by solitude and silence : himself and mule were 
 the only living things I passed between 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 
 standing in, or straying about the yard, with 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 before 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 securi- 
 ty of the communication over the St. Gothard. The 
 keeper of this wretched hospice was an old soldier, 
 spoke French, Italian, Spanish, and was not unintelli- 
 gent. Such a man would hardfy accept this post, if 
 there was not some sure mode of making money, be- 
 sides tending 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. 
 
 There is vet another association connected with 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 105 
 
 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 cam- 
 paign of 1798 or 1799 ; and this rude place of repose 
 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 regu- 
 lar sharp-shooters, seem quite out of character with 
 the scene. Man feels himself 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 skirmishing 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 
 these mighty fragments of the day of Chaos, this 
 stony girdle of our world, and with distant and pitiful 
 shots levelling their fellows, and bodies lying small 
 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 combatants, and hired legions. For 
 the solitary struggle of man and some one deadly as- 
 sailant, for such peril as knight or pilgrim, 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 romance which the musing 
 
106 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 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 na- 
 ked and stony disappears ; it is left behind ; beauti- 
 ful prospects open on you; 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 protect- 
 ingly 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 coun- 
 tenances of two females of his family more particu- 
 larly and more pleasingly announce Italia, the sun- 
 ny and the soft, the land of warm tints and fine fea- 
 tures. I travelled from hence, by what is called the 
 post, to Bellinzone. The vehicle is indescribable ; 
 it must have stood for upwards of a century, undis- 
 turbed, in some old remise, and have been lately pur- 
 chased by our speculating host for a song, drawn 
 forth, and advanced or degraded to the service of 
 carrying a mail and passengers. The old faded vel- 
 veteen 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 pea- 
 sant §rarb, and the buckles must have been made, I 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 107 
 
 should think, about the time when the carriage was 
 built. 
 
 The whole road from Airolo to Bellinzone is de- 
 light, 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 travellers heart glad, and every thing looks 
 light and cheerful. 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?' 1 
 said the little man, and then on he went again like 
 a bird. u That is a Spanish air," I said ; " where 
 did you get it ?" — tC Non so." — " Give it again." — 
 " Per uhbidir la ;" and he sung to me to my heart's 
 ease. At last, when arrived at the end of his stage, 
 he jumped off his seat, took a young infant from the 
 arms of a fine young woman, with a pretty and smil- 
 ing face, and was so fully occupied in kissing and 
 playing with it, that, if 1 had not called him, he 
 would have suffered the relay to drive on without 
 even asking for his buona mano. He told me, cheer- 
 fully, 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 cottage-door, fondling his young child, 
 and chatting with its pretty mother. Well, there 
 certainly is a great deal of happiness in the world, 
 that tyranny and misgovernment, by God's blessing, 
 never reach : here, however, in these peaceable 
 
1UB GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 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 shutting 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 alb ergo , commanding so delight- 
 ful a prospect, I was so captivated with the small 
 lake, and even in the town itself the aspect of so 
 many things struck and pleased me, that I lingered 
 there three days. The inhabitants of Lugano are 
 said to be industrious, and the siik 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 indolent. Although a small town, I never saw 
 any other (save Naples) where they seem so studi- 
 ously to spare themselves the trouble of keeping 
 house, and preparing food in their families. The 
 town is full of cooks' shops, whence ail are content 
 to be supplied: a way of life that begets a disregard 
 of comfort, but, at the same time, gives a kind of 
 cheerful carelessness. To the passing observer, 
 society, in this state, (however 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. 
 
GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 109 
 
 oil and wine, and, above all, by the spirit of her re- 
 ligion. The place is overstocked with convents and 
 churches, — and the tinkle of the small bell is per- 
 petual. 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 1 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 visit- 
 ed, I name it, assuring any, who may follow in my 
 track, that the form and features of it, and its roman- 
 tic shores, merit a wider fame than the vicinity of 
 the larger lakes, and the reports of travellers have 
 allowed to it. I took boat on the day of my depart- 
 ure to the small village of Porlezza, at the head of 
 the lake ; hence 1 crossed to that of Como on foot. 
 In the small cottage albergo of Porlezza, where I re- 
 freshed before 1 started, they gave me bread whiter 
 than milk, excellent wine, and abundance of luscious 
 figs and grapes : of these 1 made the boatmen par- 
 take, as also a ragged boy that had worked his short 
 passage over at an oar. In a country where nature 
 bountifully provides such luxuries, and where the 
 poor, amid their rags and poverty, do yet so often 
 partake of them, it is surprising 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 Cadenobbio : a guide carried my valise. 
 
 The elevated vale, through which the road lies, 
 Is beautiful When the traveller arrives by the 
 
110 GERMAN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 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 him- 
 self, 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 bays and inlets on its smiling shores ; the beau- 
 tiful division of its two arms immediately 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 Eng- 
 lish a little, and I 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 lo- 
 cal attachments were strong, and the beauties of his 
 native country dear in his estimation. I found his 
 house clean, his fare good, and his charges reasona- 
 ble ; and had all three been the reverse, the pros- 
 pect from my chamber-window would have abun- 
 dantly 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 Pliniana, concerning which so much 
 has been written. 
 
 On my arrival at Como I immediately took a 
 charabanc* and crossed bv a most romantic and beau- 
 
BERGAMO. Ill 
 
 tiful road to Lecco, a small town, situated at the 
 head of the second branch of the lake. The follow- 
 ing 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 1 took a carriage 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, — peasants who 
 preserve unalterably the dress and the customs of 
 their fathers. Moreover, Bergamo is the true birth- 
 place of Harlequin. We have all, I suppose, liked 
 Harlequin in our day, have most of us laughed our- 
 selves 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 Grimaldi, of memory immortal in the annais of 
 drollery. I saw here, in Bergamo, a man, a Falstaff, 
 or rather, not the fat man of a play, but of a pan- 
 tomime 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 italv, that land of hand- 
 
1 12 BRESCIA. 
 
 some features, that her ugly, deformed, or corpulent 
 men, are monstrosities. What noses you sometimes 
 meet with in Italy, — like the nodes of a cork-tree in 
 shape, and stained with all hues of purple and the 
 mulberry ! 
 
 I went to Brescia the following morning in com- 
 pany with an Italian priest, a man of wood. The 
 road lies through a rich and fertile vale. Brescia 
 is a city of some interest 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 
 line. 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. 1 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 texture, 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 interest which the spectators take 
 in it : they shout, and laugh, and exult, as skill or 
 awkwardness affect them. It is painful to an English- 
 man 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 interests of life neither attract 
 or stir them : they are content to exist, to be, and to 
 fre— nothing 
 
LAKE OF GARDA. 113 
 
 I took a carriage to a small town on the lake of 
 Garda, and here I hired a boat to Riva. The boat- 
 man asked me something enormous. I said, " My 
 dear feilow, 1 have not time at present to go through 
 the regular 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 getting ready ; a respectable looking serjeant 
 of gens-d'armerie came in, and -bowing to me, said 
 that I had made a fair bargain, and 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 countrymen. The 
 boatmen proved hard-working, honest, cheerful fel- 
 lows, and kissed my hand cordially at parting, be- 
 cause I threw in a trifle more for a long labo- 
 rious 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 pic- 
 ture, as we all agreed. These poor Italians have a 
 quick perception of beauty ; a quality of the mind 
 which certainly gives great delight to the possessor, 
 but which, like all earthly blessings, is counterba- 
 lanced by strange heart-achings, and a very painful 
 corrosive canker in moments of privation, disappoint- 
 ment, and blank melancholy. 
 
 The sail up this lake into the very bosom of the 
 mountains is at once lovely and grand. The cham- 
 ber of the inn at Riva looks out upon the lake, and 
 commands a noble view of the magnificent and rocky 
 eights which rise from its borders. 
 
114 ROVEREDO. 
 
 About three years ago a huge fragment of the 
 mountain just above Riva fell, destroying, and lite- 
 rally sweeping into the lake two cottages. The 
 warning, though but momentary, was yet sufficient 
 to preserve the inhabitants, who fled out naked in 
 the night, and saved their lives : — such price is some- 
 times, and not unfrequently, paid for dwelling amid 
 the romantic scenery of the Alps. A bill at these 
 inns is often diverting, when they charge the arti- 
 cles separately, as they did to me here. A bottle 
 of white wine, really good and well flavoured, was 
 put down about sixpence ; a tough, uneatable mor- 
 sel of arrosto about two shillings : such proportion 
 bears the luxury to the necessary in their esti- 
 mation. I was too delighted 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 ex- 
 ceedingly wild, and the road is very lonely. Rove- 
 redo is rather a busy-looking place, and their prin- 
 cipal trade is in silk All this country brings back 
 to the mind the early and most honourable triumphs 
 of Bonaparte : here he laid the foundation of his 
 fame and fortune. I remember that the first picture 
 I ever saw of Napoleon represented him in a gene- 
 ral's uniform, at full length, with the subscription : 
 
 Cui laurus eternos honores 
 Italico peperit triumpho. 
 
 A truth which few, even of his enemies, have dis- 
 puted, 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 
 
TRENT. 115 
 
 he was left by the jealousy of the French govern- 
 ment to clothe, pay, and feed as he could, of cour-e 
 the sufferers affixed their curse on him. It is related 
 that as Bonaparte was one evening conversing cour- 
 teously with an Italian lady, she took some flower or 
 trifle from his hand playfully : " Gli Italiani," said 
 the General, smiling, " sono tutti Ladroni" — " Non 
 tutti, mas buona parte" was 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, u There was greatness in the General, 
 greatness in the Consul : 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, exceeds 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 
 prospects 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. 
 
 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 doc- 
 tors, seated in dull array. How these four or five 
 hundred luxurious gentlemen were fed, was an idle 
 fancy or speculation that 1 could not get out of my 
 9 
 
110 TFtEJST. 
 
 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 housekeepers 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 dispatch of supplies from the well- 
 stocked cellars. Trent is, in itself, an abominably 
 stupid place ; but Fancy, reverting to the period of 
 which 1 speak, soon peoples it with portraits of a 
 vast and amusing variety. 
 
 Not a chamber of the hotel where I lodged but 
 some crowned head, or princess, had slept in it: 
 their arms, and the dates of their visits, were over 
 the doors. If, therefore, the traveller feels discon- 
 tent with room or bed, he has* the consolation of 
 knowing that the lords of palaces fared no better 
 at Trent, in thisTespect, than himself. 
 
 As I left very early in the morning for Bautzen, 
 my bill was brought, and, I conjecture, prepared by 
 the waiter. Every thing was charged double : this 
 I observed, to the vexation, no doubt, but certainly 
 net 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 notch- 
 ed chalk ; and, on being told by his pigeon, of whom 
 he had, doubtless, won thousands, u Why, you have 
 just marked two instead of one," replied, " Have I? 
 then I will rub one out again." My companion in 
 the carriage to Bautzen was a priest of the country, 
 altogether an Italian, in look, manner, and language 
 — nothing of the Tyrolese about him. The road is 
 beautiful and romantic ; the villages which you pass 
 
THE TYROL. 117 
 
 on the early part of the route bear marks of frequent 
 suffering and devastation ; and the effects of the me- 
 morable campaigns of 1796, 1797,«are distinctly visi- 
 ble to this day. It is not until he approaches Baut- 
 zen 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 cen- 
 turies, 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 conical cap, of \esy 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 appearance, and seems a more fitting head- 
 gear for some Tartar chief, galloping on his native 
 steppes, than for the peasant woman of these moun- 
 tain vales. Others, however, 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 sils, 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 corsetts, their aprons, 
 their petticoats, their stockings, are of various co- 
 lours, rustic and coarse, but producing an effect most 
 pleasing and picturesque. The men are magnificent 
 alike in costume and appeanmce : they are remark- 
 able for their fine make, and the open fearless 
 expression of their countenances. They wear hats, 
 
Iia THE TYROL. 
 
 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 waistcoats 
 are commonly red, and all the Tyrolese wear very 
 broad green braces outside 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 cathedral. I went into a 
 burial-ground adjoining, where many of both sexes 
 were scattered among the graves, kneeling and pray- 
 ing, some evidently with a very deep and devout 
 abstraction of manner. Near each monumental 
 cross is a little vessel of holy water, as in Switzer- 
 land : there was also a large bonehouse, with skulls 
 placed in the manner before described, and labelled. 
 I observed a young female praying sadly before it. 
 All the persons in the ground were bare-headed ; 
 all was solemn and silent ; and when I looked up 
 and beyond the narrow bounds of this cemetery, 
 my lifted eye encountered, on every side, mountains 
 in their brown repose. 
 
 1 passed the evening at the table d'hote. 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 s kellerin of 
 the Tyrol. The table was full : opposite me sat a 
 talK well-dressed man, looking rather genteel than 
 
THE TYROL. ll'J 
 
 gentleman-iike, 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, and thrown 
 principally among the midshipmen ; that he was 
 sea-sick and wretched, and, of course, easily and 
 often irritated. I told him, that he must not ex- 
 actly 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 persua- 
 sion, begat in them that spirit of enterprise and dar- 
 ing, which had obtained for our navy the renown it 
 long had, and, I hoped and believed, long would 
 enjoy ; that 1 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 adversaries, alike worthy and 
 proud to claim kindred with British sailors ; and that 
 as I concluded the object of his desire was the natu- 
 ral and noble ambition to encounter gallant enemies, 
 the day might yet come, and the wish he had here 
 
120 THE TYROL. 
 
 expressed be remembered. I shall never forget the 
 smile that passed across the broad and bronzed face 
 of a stout Bavarian 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, perhaps, been op- 
 posed, 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 cor- 
 rect 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 can- 
 not describe. At a cottage inn on a hill, about mid- 
 way, 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 Germany in general, espe- 
 cially in Austria, they have abundance of excellent 
 glass, and the luxury of fine large well-shaped tum- 
 blers and wine-glasses is common. 
 
 Brixen is a city beautifully situated, among moun- 
 tains, at the junction of the rivers Rienz and Eisach. 
 It has a cathedral, a palace, and many good houses: 
 
THE TYROL. 121 
 
 (he style and fronts are Italian. The inn was not 
 very comfortable, and exceedingly crowded. I met 
 a German gentleman at supper, who had just return- 
 ed 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 never met a foreigner who spoke 
 English with such a happy fluency, or such a thorough 
 understanding of our tongue. He spoke of acquaint- 
 ances at Oxford and Cambridge, one of whom was 
 personally known to me, and the name of another 
 most familiar, as an accomplished scholar. He ap- 
 peared to have seen every thing in London that tra- 
 veller could see, and, with the strong and permitted 
 curiosity of an active mind, had not omitted to dive 
 into the cellars of St. Giles's, or to visit the booths 
 of St. Bartholomew. He told me that these lateral 
 valleys could not be visited without a thorough know- 
 ledge, not merely of common 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 accompany 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 dress, and walk 
 about the long old room adjoining my bed-chamber in 
 stillness and alone. This room was hung with old 
 paintings, 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, bro.- 
 
•122 THE TYROL. 
 
 cades, jewelled turbans, and costly caparisons, with 
 rich embossings. When such things hang faded on a 
 wall before you, as Queen Esther before Ahasuerus, 
 as Belshazzar at his Feast, Naaman in his Chariot, 
 and such like subjects, you cannot choose but think. 
 After breakfast I procured an oid dusty caleche, 
 with a capital horse and a rustic driver, to Stertzin- 
 gen. 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 1 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. 
 Here was an elderly landlady, a pattern of kind hos- 
 pitality and motherly propriety, two fair daughters, 
 clean and modest, and a stout and trusty kellerin, 
 with black petticoat of ample folds, and keys enough, 
 in number and size, for the warder of a castle. Her 
 guardianship, however, is not over turrets and dun- 
 geons, but over closets and cellars, wines and meats, 
 fruits and preserves, and all household comforts. 
 There is no feature about the inns of the Tyrol 
 more remarkable than the kellerin : she is a person- 
 age of the first importance ; she makes all charges, 
 and receives all payments ; for which purpose she 
 wears a large leathern pocket, or purse, which, like 
 the tradesman's till, is emptied each evening. She 
 is intrusted with all the household 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; 
 u Mein kind," 6t Mv child." is the common phrase : 
 
THE TYROL. 123 
 
 and it is varied, in warmth and tenderness, according 
 to accidental circumstances. It is sometimes en- 
 dearing, as " Mein schones kind" " My pretty child ;" 
 "Mein herzf "My heart;" "Mein schatz," "My 
 treasure." In general, however, although I have 
 seen some of great beauty, the kellerin is a stout, 
 coarse, active woman, with a frank readiness of ser- 
 vice in her manner, and a plain pride of station, — 
 the pride of being trust-worthy. 
 
 It may be supposed that these phrases are not al- 
 ways used, without some lightness, by youthful tra- 
 vellers; yet is there a manner of employing them 
 ivithout 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 affec- 
 ting 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. 
 
 Now, certainly, we do not travel abroad to see En- 
 glish prints, yet did 1 heartily bless the chance that 
 brought them there, was happy in their sweet com- 
 pany, and confident 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 Ladv Jane 
 
124 THE TYROL. 
 
 Grey, and then on to " Fair Fidele r s grassy tomb,' 7 
 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 1 sat thinking after supper, I 
 heard voices as in prayer; and, looking out of my 
 chamber into the large irregular-shaped hall,- 1 saw 
 a party of peasants assembled on their knees, before 
 a large wooden crucifix, and performing their eve- 
 ning devotions. In the Tyrol, if the house is con- 
 sidered a good one, and the people worthy and de- 
 vout, the peasants and muleteers, who lodge in the 
 outhouses and stables, do always use the hall, or 
 guest-chamber, as a chapel, imagining that they con- 
 fer 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 Ba- 
 varian 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 description of force 
 defeated, destroyed, or led captive by mountain pea- 
 sants, in the rude and picturesque garb in which they 
 toil and hunt, does awaken in the fancy a very live- 
 ly 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 
 wanton or capricious cruelty, no acts of savage or 
 vindictive barbarity, stained the character of their 
 cause The only persons who were roughly or se- 
 verely treated were such of their own countrymen 
 
THE TYROL. \%b 
 
 .«s they suspected of treachery ; but, towards the 
 French and Bavarians, especially the latter, when 
 defeated and captured, no violence was shown be- 
 yond 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 ;" " What 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 too! ; and, in fact, it was in all the 
 trouble and intrigue at the close that this plain, un- 
 suspecting, credulous, and faithful man was ship- 
 wrecked ; and (eternal disgrace to the French !) was 
 taken, tried by a military 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, be- 
 cause 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, ail the energies of Tyrol against 
 the Bavarian and the French armies. 
 
 If any of my young readers should desire to pe- 
 ruse an animated and beautiful sketch of this moun- 
 tain war, |et them turn to the " Edinburgh Histori- 
 
126 THE TYROL. 
 
 cal Annual Register" for 1809 or 1810. I Lave not 
 seen the chapter that treats of it for sixteen years. 
 I read it in Portugal, but the glow of it does in re- 
 membrance warm me still. 
 
 The road between Stertzingen and Inspruck tra- 
 verses 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 Steinach, 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 
 perceptions 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. 
 
 hjspruck, the capital of the Tyrol, lies in a val- 
 ley watered by the Inn, and immediately 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 wind- 
 ing road that presents, at every turn, a prospect of 
 some striking and picturesque beauty. I arrived 
 late in the evening, and was put into a large cham- 
 ber, where by portraits, arms, inscriptions, &c, I 
 found many crowned heads and noble persons had 
 at various times been lodged. I requested and ob- 
 tained 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 amusement 
 of his German guests he can sing, with the most 
 comic effect, 
 
 « The dueks and the geese they do swim over." 
 
THE TYROL. 121 
 
 I encored him in it, and wished Matthews at table to 
 Hk the man and his manner for wider amusement. 
 I was made exceedingly 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 first thing which I visited in Inspruck, and 
 the object which I could not tire of gazing on after 
 repeated visits, is the grand cenotaph in the church 
 of the Franciscans, to the memory of Maximilian 
 the Emperor. 
 
 The mausoleum itself would require, if I attempt- 
 ed it at all, a very minute description, and of a na- 
 ture that would be tedious to the reader, without 
 conveying the general effect to his mind. It is rais- 
 ed 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 ac- 
 tions of his life. The sculpture is exquisite, and all 
 the scenes are represented with a fidelity at once 
 minute and animated. But the charm and the magic 
 of this monument arise from the remarkable circum- 
 stance of its being surrounded by a stern and silent 
 company of colossal statues* in bronze. The figures 
 are male and female, persons of renown and royal 
 
 * That is, somewhat larger than life. 
 10 
 
128 THE TYROL. 
 
 birth : many of the house of Austria and in the an- 
 cestral line of Maximilian, and others, to the stran- 
 ger's eye, of a deeper and more attaching interest. 
 There is " Gottfried 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 
 coroneted helm with the worship of one who had 
 lived his subject ; }'ou mount the pedestal and raise 
 his barred vizor, and look upon the still features; 
 you grasp his gauntleted hand, and touch his sword — - 
 
 (The " massy blade 
 Of magic teinper'd metal made,") 
 
 with a fancy that you are daring too far, and down 
 again in reverence to the paved aisle. 
 
 I lingered among these forms at a second visit till 
 it was dusk. Aibrechts 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 cre- 
 ated and indulged terror; and ever as I came near 
 " Artur, Kb'nig 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 fine u Ode on 
 the Grave of King Arthur."' 
 
THE TYROL. 
 
 In (bis same church lie the remains oi* Hofer un- 
 der a plain stone, simply inscribed with his name. 
 They were disinterred and brought from Mantua by 
 order of the Emperor of Austria, that they might be 
 honoured with a public funeral in the capital of Ty- 
 rol. They were received by the faithful Tyrolese 
 with transport, and followed 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 glorious 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 1 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 Ins- 
 pruck 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, rous- 
 ed, as he described it, by the running past of an idle 
 crowd, and the cries that a man was to be 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 
 liot thus have died. A Tyrolese gentleman tcld me 
 that during a great part of the lime of that insur- 
 rection, 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 
 
130 THE TYROL. 
 
 priest, and among his minor advisers another, whu. 
 it is whispered, finally betrayed 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, u 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 priest 
 was at his elbow ; for it does not sound like the cha- 
 racter of a man, who, long before the insurrection, 
 was continually appealed to by his countrymen as a 
 just arbitrator, as one who would hear both sides, 
 say what in his conscience he thought, and from 
 whose decision they cared not to appeal. The fate 
 that lifts a man into a situation of high responsibility 
 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 Maximilian was wont to re- 
 tire at certain seasons for the purposes of devotion, 
 and where he performed the strict penances so com- 
 mon to the age in which he lived. The rude arti- 
 cles of furniture in this cell and a wooden inkstand 
 are said to have been the work of the monarch's 
 own hand. Even the seclusion 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 interest us. Here 
 it is that we find them men, poor men like ourselves, 
 seeking rest for their hearts : — a rest which the celt 
 and the stripe, the vigil and the fast, can never give. 
 The walks about the city are on all sides beautiful 
 
THE TYROL. 131 
 
 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 unbecoming uniform. The jac- 
 ket 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 un- 
 martial appearance. I must except the officers and 
 Serjeants, whose hats are overshadowed by large 
 black plumes, falling, like those on the Scottish bon- 
 net, with a severe and frowning grace. In general 
 the rustic gains in personal appearance by exchang- 
 ing the garb of a labourer for the uniform of a sol- 
 dier; but 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 trow- 
 sers, 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 wea- 
 pon he has been wont to bear, when, with a broad 
 cartouch-belt girt around his waist, he leapt lightly 
 on the hunters 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 do- 
 minions, to be saluted, as I frequently was, by the 
 soldiers. The officers of the Austrian army almost 
 invariably wear plain clothes in their home garri- 
 sons, except on the parade or on any duty, a circum- 
 stance which may account for this. Often, however, 
 10* 
 
V3» THE TYROL. 
 
 this compliment was paid to me by soldiers who evi- 
 dently recognized me for an Englishman and an offi- 
 cer, 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 belong 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 incident 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 pri- 
 vate 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 cast down their little all of money on 
 the promotion lottery-table, have no harvest to look 
 to, not even the gleaning of a fieid ; 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 called demoralisation, 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 unde- 
 fined aching of the old soldier's heart after the roe- 
 
THE TYROL. 133 
 
 Jancholy 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 demoralisation, as it is called, is but 
 the missing of accustomed things, and the longing 
 for them. The atmosphere of affection in 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 soldiers word for 
 it, in the common relations of man to man, the title 
 of brother officers may stand high. If this be, as I 
 suspect it is, demoralisation, why, then, I fear it will 
 be found an inhabitant in the bosom of many a sol- 
 dier 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 Vien- 
 na, for the chance of companionship ; but I took care 
 to bargain for a halt of three days at Saltzburg. My 
 travelling companions were a parish priest, and a 
 student of Padua, both natives of German Tyrol, and 
 both enthusiasts in their love of their native coun- 
 try. The priest spoke French with tolerable fluen- 
 cy, and could read English a little ; the student un- 
 derstood French, but could not converse in that lan- 
 guage : both, however, spoke Italian freely, so that 
 
THE TYROL. 
 
 we made out famously. I liked them both : the 
 priest, to my regret, quitted us at Saltzburg. I shall 
 long recollect this worthy pastor with affectionate 
 respect : his polite attentions, his cheerfulness, his 
 kindness, his exhaustless store of interesting talk, 
 his tolerant notions, his Christian feeling, and an oc- 
 casional tinge of melancholy, that would chase for a 
 few minutes, and a few minutes only, his customary 
 animation, impressed me deeply. u Gratias a Dio" 
 was a phrase often on his lip, not uttered coldly or 
 cantmgly, 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 beauti- 
 ful prospect and the running 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 peasants, beginning, 
 Ci Der Heben feiier stunde sc/ileckt ;" " The loved 
 hour of repose is strikmg, v or, as our English hard 
 has it, " The curfew tolls the knell of parting day." 
 
 The burden of this song, or hymn, as they broken- 
 ly and imperfectly rendered it for me, is beautiful, 
 the ideas poetical, and the lesson,— Content. Even 
 thus prosaically given, the reader will admit its 
 beauty : — 
 
 u The loved hour of repose is striking; let us 
 come to the sun-set tree ; let us lie down in the 
 
THE TYROL. 136 
 
 pleasant shade. Oh ! how sweet is rest after lahour ! 
 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 Vi- 
 enna, 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, 
 hut in vain. The air is uncommonly simple, and I 
 doubt whether even in Vienna, where, amid new ob- 
 jects, I forgot it altogether, 1 could have procured 
 the same unadorned melody which the peasants sing, 
 each evening, at the sun-set tree. I was more pleas- 
 ed with it every time I listened ; it is devotional, 
 and, sung from and with the heart, by men who rise 
 early to labour, and late take rest, is an evening sa- 
 crifice, accepted, surely, at the gates of heaven. 
 
 The Tyrolese, according to their light and per- 
 suasion, have a great reverence for Divine things. 
 This was eminently shown during their insurrection 
 (or war, 1 will call it) ; for the mild character of the 
 Christian religion, as taught by their simple paro- 
 chial clergy, subdued in them those vindictive feel- 
 ings, or, at least, the cruel acting of them against the 
 prisoner and the captive. 
 
 I observed that my good priest often rose sudden- 
 ly, almost immediately after our meals, and paced up 
 
K36 THE TYROL. 
 
 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 : but he told me, as 
 an excuse, and a mournful 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 1 can well understand, 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 companionable 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 ignorance that of children, their 
 obedience that of children. He took occasion, from 
 this statement, to start the subject of our Bible So- 
 cieties, and to condemn the distribution of the Holy 
 Scriptures among the common people, asking me 
 many questions concerning our societies in England 
 established for that purpose. We had a long and in- 
 teresting conversation, and, of course, all the old ar- 
 guments 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 inesti- 
 mable 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 
 
THE TYROL. 137 
 
 he might acquire the power of reading the Gospel 
 for himself, and, by the assistance of God's Holy Spi- 
 rit, make a believing 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 Ca- 
 tholic priest, he was, perhaps, compelled to take 
 refuge, — " that the mother-church is the soie guar- 
 dian and the only true interpreter of God's word, 
 and that ignorance would corrupt it, and wrest it to 
 its own destruction/' Thus it is that spiritual bond- 
 age is perpetuated from generation to generation. I 
 pressed him a little upon the strict and severe govern- 
 ment of his church, especially of that species of disci- 
 pline which watched over and controlled all, even the 
 minutest actions of domestic life ; 1 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 Bi- 
 ble. I did. He expressed himself delighted and 
 moved with the rich majesty of our language, and 
 said the Latin version seemed poor compared to it ; 
 so 1 told him was the Greek considered 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. 
 
 1 dwell upon this chance-companion at some 
 length, and with delight, because, although it is by- 
 no means true of any nation, " ex uno disce omnes" 
 yet the inferences 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 pain- 
 
m THE TYROL. 
 
 ful subject, connected with English policy, this wor- 
 thy 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 legislation 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 sorrow and in shame. 
 
 I believe that if the Irish Roman Catholics had 
 been emancipated twenty years ago, thousands and 
 thousands of them would now be of the Protestant 
 persuasion ; that the whole nation would have pro- 
 gressed rapidly towards spiritual liberty, in the light 
 of the distributed Word, long ere this ; but the lan- 
 guage held by the mistaken 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 conscientious 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 beau- 
 ty. The Inn is ever near you, the prospects varied 
 and romantic, 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 striking ; it is 
 by a noble gateway, cut through the ruck, under 
 which you drive for nearly one hundred yards. " Te 
 
SALTZBUKG. 139 
 
 saxa loquuntur," is the appropriate inscription ; and 
 the bust of the Prince-Bishop, who executed 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 becoming, it 
 is, doubtless, some dear remnant of ancient costume, 
 clung to by successive generations, who, from child- 
 hood, fix their eyes with a fascinated gaze on the 
 glittering thing it will one day be their privilege to 
 wear. Saltzburg is a fine city, that is, the situation 
 is very fine. It has a handsome square, a lofty and 
 commanding citadel, some fine churches, a famous 
 cemetery, many handsome houses, and two country 
 palaces in the immediate suburbs ; but the uncom- 
 mon 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 fine ; that from the summit of Monchsberg 
 magnificent. The apartment is shown you where 
 one of the former Prince-Bishops was confined for 
 five 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 childish- 
 ly laid out, and full of silly tricks and toys. 
 
 There is a remarkably fine riding-house in Salt/- 
 1! 
 
140 SALTZBURG. 
 
 burg, the menage of which, in iis daj r , was very 
 famous. It is now used by a regiment of Hungarian 
 hussars. I walked through their stables ; there ap- 
 peared to me a great want of order and cleanliness: 
 but I was struck with the paintings in the winter 
 riding-school, where ail the represented practice, 
 both of horse and swordsmanship is pictured by 
 stricken and beheaded Turks. The figure of the 
 Turk yet remains as the target, the butt, or fancied 
 opponent of the Christian cavalier. 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 sta- 
 tue of Bucephalus rears at the watering-fountain, and 
 horses are pictured in a rude painting behind, in 
 every variety of playful and skittish action. Cer- 
 tainly the bishops of Saltzburg were of the church 
 militant, 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 1 had never seen. I took an 
 early dinner in the town of Hallein, at a very com- 
 fortable hotel, where 1 was well and cheerfully 
 served. At a table in the same rocm sat two gentle- 
 men, 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 gene- 
 ral, all was well ; but as soon as he found, on ques- 
 tioning me, that I was come to visit the mine, he 
 broke away on his hobby, and left me at a wonder- 
 ing, but not an envying distance. He recommended 
 to me the perusal of two quarto volumes, in w\ 
 
SALTZBURG. 141 
 
 these salt-works were most particularly described, 
 and some other volumes of like dimension, on his 
 favourite study. He politely expressed his regret 
 that he could not have the pleasure of accompanying 
 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 an- 
 nounced 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 manners 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 1 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 advantages but 1 freely confess 
 that the last thing I wanted to 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 pecu- 
 liar and enchanting character. There is the black 
 pine, as in Switzerland, and there is grass and pas- 
 ture 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 imagina- 
 tion 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 en- 
 trance into the mine. You are taken into a small 
 
14^ sALTZBURG. 
 
 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 
 shafts ; a lighted candle is put into your hand, and, 
 with a miner before you who does not talk, and a 
 domestiqve de place who will if you let him, you 
 enter the rock. Man is the rabbit here : innumera- 
 ble long passages pierce the mountain in every di- 
 rection : they are, for the most part, strongly lined 
 and roofed with rough timbers ; but the swelling and 
 pregnant earth does, here and there, force a way, 
 and, between the gaping ribs and rafters, you see 
 the rock-salt, with its veins, of a deep or bright 
 colour : the grey and red predominate, but, occa- 
 sionally, it has a fine yellow tinge, or is variegated 
 with a dark blue. fl?he descents, although some of 
 them are considerable, are none &>rmidable, 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 medium, " 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 gallery 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 
 
SALTZBURLi. 143 
 
 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 heil 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* und 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. 
 
 I lingered long here fascinated as by some unearth- 
 ly power ; I passed and repassed the gloomy water ; 
 1 walked on the rocky bank there where it lay in 
 deepest shadow ; and from the sixth book of the 
 iEneid I peopled the melancholy region. Nor did I 
 forget that great gulf, which the Word of Truth has 
 told us is fixed between those that have served God 
 and those that have served Satan. All may read 
 that book of the iEneid with deep profit to their 
 souls beyond the solemn pleasure which it must 
 afford the imagination. 
 
 " That angry justice formed 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 bevond the 
 
 11* 
 
M4 SALTZBURG. 
 
 power of the wisest teachers of mankind till the soft 
 voice of the Gospel-message was delivered. 
 
 u 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 ray 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 extremity of a gallery, that seems intermina- 
 ble. You take a seat with your guide on a kind of 
 wooden horse on wheels, and are dragged with 
 great rapidity for eight hundred yards along a nar- 
 row passage in the rock, not without an apprehen- 
 sion 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 stillness of life. You hail it, your flesh 
 and your heart leap to the vivifying influence, 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 disappointed. You see at 
 Hallein no chambers of the rock in chrystal, no 
 grottos, no chapels, no dwellings, no families begot- 
 ten, 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 occasionally, out 
 of compliment to royal visitors, or conquerors of 
 renown, to present a superb 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. 
 
SALTZBURG. 145 
 
 1 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 1 should certainly have 
 either run rudely from him in the labyrinthine pas- 
 sages 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 into the regions 
 of the air, leaving his hammer and some glorious 
 specimen crystallized in cubes far behind us. 
 
 The day following I made an excursion to the lake 
 of Berchtolsgaden. It is about ten miles from Saltz- 
 burg, and in a direction 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 consi- 
 derable distance the same, but where it turns away 
 winds through a narrow and most picturesque valley 
 watered by the Achen, on and above which the 
 town is built, having, as it should, for the traveller'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 lakje, 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 
 
SALTZBORG. 
 
 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 rippSe gave it such 
 play and waver, as a garment floating in the air, 
 was wonderful It is not solid, then, this glorious 
 earth, — a bnght shadow only, a thing that shall be 
 wrapped up and changed as a vesture. 
 
 About three miles from the landing 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 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 per- 
 form a vigil in it with comfort. I walked out upon 
 the crackling surface of the snow, and again descend- 
 ed 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 cen~ 
 
SALTZBURG. i« 
 
 turies to come, in peace. War, tumult, rapacity, 
 persecution, never reach a spot like this : — happy 
 the king that has so lone a hut to run to, and dis- 
 crown himself, as the hunting lodge of Berchtolsga- 
 den. They gave me there a plain and delicious 
 repast of fresh lish 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 Berch- 
 tolsgaden. 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 fishing cottage. 
 
 The return across the lake was still more delight- 
 ful than the passage of the morning. The sisters 
 and their brothers sang as they plied the oars. I 
 landed at one or two fine points, and at last reluc- 
 tantly came on shore, and was driven most rapidly 
 home. 
 
 There is a comfortable inn at Saltzburg. 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 re- 
 mark, in passing, that in the Austrian army the con- 
 sidered, or, as we familiarly term them, crack regi- 
 
148 SSLTZBURG. 
 
 rnents of foot, rank before and much higher than 
 their cavalry, and have more men of family among 
 their officers. From some enquiries which 1 made 
 here, as to prices and the common expenditure 
 among young military men of his cast, 1 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 close and an open one ; all this he 
 did upon two hundred florins a month ; and 1 was 
 assured, and made to see from calculation, that the 
 thing* was easy. To he sure there is one thing that 
 would never meet the ideas of an Englishman, — the 
 personal expenditure of this man at table, for all his 
 meals, did not, perhaps, on ordinary occasions, 
 amount to two florins a day. But the luxury of con- 
 veyance is cheap in Germany, as also the hire of 
 common valets and grooms. If you are in a town of 
 any size or consequence you can procure an excel- 
 lent, and often a very elegant carriage with good 
 horses and a respectable coachman at a very reason- 
 able daily rate. I left Saltzburg with the hope that 
 in the course of my life 1 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 reconnaissance, I ex- 
 ulted in the discovery that she did not speak a word 
 of French or Italian. It was 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. 
 
SALTZBUUG. 14tf 
 
 or trying my purse at the close of our long journey. 
 We certainly doubly regretted 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 indifferent inns, are generally what 
 you discover — 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 wine 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 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, apparently, to converse with 
 me, it was with difficulty I could keep them in their 
 animation, out of their dear expressive German. I 
 remember well, about fifteen years ago, living for 
 some weeks en pension with the sous prefet of a de- 
 partment in France, when a prisoner in that country, 
 and that three German officers were also of the par- 
 ty, ft 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 part, just 
 as men should do, and agreeing to differ on many 
 points. All these Germans spoke French and Eng- 
 lish admirably, but it was irresistibly diverting to 
 
150 AUSTRIA. 
 
 see them, as they warmed, break from French into 
 English, as nearer the genius of their own language, 
 and soon after away into their rugged German, every 
 eye in a sparkle, and every 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 patience till 
 they gave us a lame French version of what they 
 had volubly poured out in German. 
 
 It will be seen that what is called speaking a little 
 of a language will not answer with the German ; he 
 can neither listen to, understand, nor attempt to sup- 
 port a conversation with you so. I think it is the 
 author of "An Autumn on the Rhine" who repre- 
 sents 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 energetic, and indus- 
 trious, and wonderful. Notwithstanding, however, 
 all that the Austrian may utter in favour of other 
 countries, all that he may trust himself to say against 
 the ministers of his own, still the very word " Kai- 
 ser" is dear to him ; and certainly the Emperor has 
 the hearts and 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 con- 
 jecture that he was some wandering lexicon that 
 
AUSTRIA. 151 
 
 had rashly left his college-rooms, his commons, and 
 his bed-maker, for a voyage of discovery. I thought 
 the sound of English might be a comfort to him, 
 and, as 1 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 embar- 
 rassment of not being able to speak German. He 
 growled out u No," his French carried him every 
 where. I saw him turn over a bit of rindfleisch 
 (beef) and some sour krout with uncontrollable dis- 
 satisfaction ; he looked as if he had been long un- 
 brushed, 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 won- 
 der, half rose, and bowed to me with a smile, and I 
 left him to pursue 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 
 language, to attempt journeying on the Continent, 
 especially in a country like Germany, alone. I am 
 persuaded that such a character brings false impres- 
 sions away with him, and leaves behind him false, 
 and undeservedly bad impressions, not only of him- 
 self but of the English temper. 
 
 The famous Benedictine monastery of Mb'lk, one 
 of the most splendid in Austria, is the only remark- 
 able object on the road between Lintz and Vienna. 
 It has the form and aspect of a palace : quadrangles, 
 windows, stair-cases, galleries, apartments of a pa- 
 lace ; all is light, and space, and magnificence. Its 
 12 
 
I«2 AUSTRIA. 
 
 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, pre- 
 sents a vast spread of elevated plain ; plain that, 
 when Napoleon rested here, was covered with 
 trampling squadrons of cavalry, and heavy masses, 
 of his infantry advancing to the conquest of Vienna. 
 They 9how you the chamber that he occupied, 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 trans- 
 port 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 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 Durer, on which the traveller will 
 gaze long with delight ; it is a Madonna, — no, not 
 a Madonna, — u a Mutter Gottes" The head is man- 
 tled white ; the face is fair, and full, and not young ; 
 but the expression is ail 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 Sepulchre of our Lord, to declare his 
 Resurrection to Mary Magdalene and the Women 
 who accompanied her. The garments of these an- 
 gels are shining, and their hair streams out of a 
 
AUSTRIA. 153 
 
 brightness that marks them as immortal. There is 
 a radiance about them that you would fear but for 
 the calmness that re-assures the troubled breast : — 
 who does not love the things that give such strange 
 and sublime emotions ? 
 
 This abbey is rather collegiate in its character 
 than monastic. The gardens are pleasant and well 
 stocked, having green-houses and hot-houses. There 
 is a handsome 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 sa- 
 loon, if the voice of woman is never to warble there, 
 her eye never to light it up ? 
 
 Within ten miles of Vienna, at Burgersdorf, I 
 quitted my good kutcher and his vehicle, and took 
 the post, that I might avoid embarrassment and de- 
 lay 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 knowledge. They hoard their little all of 
 money for the purchase of books, their all of time 
 for the acquirement of learning. It is delightful to 
 be questioned by them on any thing you fancy your- 
 self to be well acquainted with, and not an easy thing 
 to satisfy their intelligent curiosity. The govern- 
 ment of Austria is very strict with all students ; will 
 not suffer them to travel, and watches their conduct 
 with great jealousy. This youth was studying at 
 Padua to prepare himself for public employment in 
 the Italian provinces. It is the present policy of 
 
154 AUSTRIA. 
 
 Austria to encourage Germans to fill the public offi- 
 ces there, and her Italian subjects to seek situations 
 in Austria Proper ; a circumstance which causes the 
 Italian language to be so much studied, that a travel- 
 ler speaking Italian only, would find little difficulty 
 in journeying from Inspruck to Vienna. 
 
 In the immediate vicinity of Burgersdorfl took 
 an evening walk before I ordered my horses ; and 
 really the wooded beauty of the scenery, its still- 
 ness, the dress of the few peasants I met, the rude 
 wooden 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, 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 merchan- 
 dise, or carrying passengers 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 delightful 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 ex- 
 ceptions, indeed, that I remarked to this humane 
 and creditable conduct, were among the drivers of 
 the common fiacres in their large cities, and occa- 
 sionally among such of their kutchers as had lost 
 somewhat of their nation's tenderness for horses by 
 associating with French voituriers and Italian vet- 
 turini. 
 
 It was dark when I reached the barrier. I found 
 
VIENNA. 155 
 
 the very word " 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 a fast pace, through the wide 
 street of a very long suburb, among numbers of car- 
 riages, 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 complete- 
 ly enveloped both the walls and buildings, present- 
 ed 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 respectful 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- 
 fortable apartments, civil attendance, excellent fare, 
 it la carte, at any hour, in a beautiful saloon, well- 
 behaved domestiques de place, and a most respectable 
 and handsome carriage whenever he may need one. 
 The prices are fixed and reasonable. 
 
 Vienna is not the city 1, perhaps, expected to find 
 it, although a very delightful place ; indeed, 1 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 undistinguished and unobserved 
 down Regent Street, or through the Burlington Ar- 
 cade. The journeyman tailor, the bootmaker, the 
 hatter, and the young milliner of London, might, in 
 the articles they respectively deal in. detect some 
 
156 VIENNA. 
 
 difference in material or workmanship ; but the tra- 
 veller 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, rib- 
 bons, gowns, shoes, shawls, and false curls, such as 
 he has seen before. Fashions now travel faster than 
 they were wont to do ; and I 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 Hungarians, 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 Scla- 
 vonian peasants do, indeed, in small groups, attract 
 attention to their sallow cheeks, their lank and hor- 
 rid hair, their coarse, and dull, and filthy garb ; and 
 the young Hungarian hussar still dashes past you, 
 the pelisse hanging gracefully from his shoulder, 
 the kalpac looking noble on his head ; but for the 
 visitors of 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 build- 
 ings, is different from that which I should have ex- 
 pected : it is not Germanic, it is Italian ; the palaces, 
 the public buildings, the mansions of the nobility, 
 have the regular Italian character, but are decided- 
 ly inferior to the stately edifices of Florence and of 
 
VIENNA. 157 
 
 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 distinguished, 
 as our own were in the olden time, by signs, either 
 fixed or dangling above them, or by small paintings, 
 displaying the articles they sell. Here, over a ho- 
 sier's shop, hangs a golden sheep ; there, at an apo- 
 thecary'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 — a pound of tallow candles! 
 
 The squares, with the exception of Joseph Platz, 
 and that of the palace, scarce deserve 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 bu- 
 siest of these open spaces, being filled with cheerful 
 shops, and adorned with two fountains, and a curious 
 monument, commemorative of the plague which 
 ravaged Vienna in 1679, and of the gratitude 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 cathedral 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 venerable a pile should be ; more- 
 over, 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 Ottoman has pranc- 
 ed fierce before it, thirsting for its destruction. On 
 the outside it may be said to be encumbered, but 
 
158 VIENNA. 
 
 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. 1 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 generations. 
 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 reading sol- 
 diers of all countries, reposes in this church : his 
 tomb is in the chapel of the Holy Cross. I ascend- 
 ed the tower : the view is magnificent ; and it is a 
 great pleasure to see the huge bell, cast a century 
 ago, from the cannon of the defeated Turk. 
 
 There is in Vienna a museum of no small interest, 
 called the Collection Ambras, from the castle of that 
 name in the Tyrol : it consists of old armour, old por- 
 traits, old relics, old toys, old works of art. Woe to the 
 curious or careless person who swept from my cham- 
 ber, at some inn on my route home, the printed 
 catalogue of its treasures, where 1 had pencilled 
 down my delight in notes of admiration opposite 
 many objects of interest, which I can no longer call to 
 mind. The figures in armour are very numerous, and 
 of renowned men ; they are disposed in many cham- 
 bers, 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 forgetting 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 in- 
 terest, are kept in better order, disposed in better 
 
VIENNA. 159 
 
 taste, and the whole display has a stem severity 
 about it. These coats of mail, these helmets, these 
 costly trappings and caparisons, glossy with their 
 velvets, and heavy with embroidery ; these long 
 lances, and long swords, and beside them hung the 
 Turkey bridle, and the crooked scimitar, and the 
 captured crescent, — are things you cannot tire with 
 gazing on. There is also a chamber with old por- 
 traits of the middle ages, and another with curiosi- 
 ties, 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 
 looking 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 collec- 
 tions of Vienna in detail would require 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 appearances of a country and a peo- 
 ple. 1 must say, therefore, that every one who visits 
 the city of Vienna will find that there are galleries 
 rich in paintings, and that the museums in general 
 are well deserving his attention. 
 
 There is a splendid library, the saloon of which 
 is truly magnificent, and the rare and valuable cu- 
 riosities of which they freely exhibit. — There is an 
 interesting cabinet of natural history. 
 
 There is a cabinet of antiquities, where the col- 
 lection of engraved stones and cameos is uncommon- 
 
160 VIENNA. 
 
 ]y rich and beautiful ; and where, let me with gra- 
 titude 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 antiquarians 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 antiquities ; but neither of these 
 last are very rich in their contents. 
 
 The Imperial Gallery of Pictures at the Belve- 
 dere Palace is large, and contains many fine paint- 
 ings ; some Rubens, of a vast size, and several, by 
 other masters of name, that were taken from the 
 suppressed convents, in the time of the Emperor 
 Joseph II. 
 
 The Gallery of Prince Lichtenstein is uncommon- 
 ly rich, especially in the works of Rubens ; and iu 
 this palace is the noblest hall in Vienna. 
 
 The Arsenal is well deserving a visit. * The wide 
 corridors, where the arms are brilliantly and fanci- 
 fully disposed, run round a square court, where 
 hangs a massive chain, with which the Turk, during 
 his memorable siege, shut up the navigation 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, 
 und many figures in fine suits of ancient armour; 
 round some of these the glorious old swords were 
 girt with belts of bright blue, or rather gaudy-co- 
 loured ribbons, with silver or gilt fringes, fresh from 
 the shop of some stage-milliner in the Graben. I 
 qould not keep silence at the absurdity and impro- 
 priety of this ; I was provoked : it destroyed aU 
 
VIENNA. 161 
 
 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 en- 
 thusiasm, and this before a large party of Germans, 
 who so cordially agreed with me, that the conduc- 
 tor looked vexed, and ashamed, — I hope sufficiently 
 so to report it where the error may be rectified. 
 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 rich- 
 ly 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 exhi- 
 biting this taste very strongly; it is called the 
 Knight's Castle, and lias been erected with great 
 care and keeping, after the model of some ancient 
 baronial castle ; moat, drawbridge, portcullis, arched 
 gateway, court, hall, chapel, chambers, dungeons, 
 walls, passages, galleries, communications, turrets, 
 — all correctly designed and fitted. The apartments 
 have old ceilings, old wainscotlings, that have been 
 purchased at a great expense ; old furniture, old 
 pictures, ancient armour, ancient manuscripts, and 
 illuminated 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 tourna- 
 ment. Once or twice they have held mock tourneys 
 -here for his amusement. Methinks, if the grim 
 Albrechts and Rodolphs 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 s*w, 
 
162 VIENNA. 
 
 while I was in Vienna, two pieces, one in their Ope- 
 ra-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 mi- 
 nute attention all the suits of armour had been pre- 
 pared ; nothing could be more perfect than the illu- 
 sion. The prince was personated by a fine hand- 
 some young man, with fair shining hair; and when 
 he stood unhelmed 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 con- 
 sidered,) the fierce Ottocar 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 sur- 
 prised and delighted. 1 was fortunate enough to be 
 present at the representation of the "Death of Wal- 
 Jenstein." Although I sent early to secure a seat, 
 and went early that I might reach it without incon- 
 venience, I could only get 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 Ger- 
 man language ; but, by translation and analysis, I was 
 well acquainted with the tragedy of Wallenstein ; I 
 could follow 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 movement, the look and the tone, 
 were enough for me. The effect of German acting 
 
VIENNA. 163 
 
 —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 varying, as they 
 do, according to what is said and felt among persons 
 of the like class in actual life. The actor who per- 
 formed Wallenstein 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 exhibition of a silent, supersti- 
 tious, 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 per- 
 mitted to listen to the words of this being, and to 
 see him thus, — as if they never could be uttered, 
 he never looked upon, again. The character of 
 Thecla was admirably filled : the taste would have 
 desired for her a more beautiful face and form, 
 though she was not plain ; but the eye, as it follow- 
 ed her movements, was satisfied ; the ear, as it list- 
 ened 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 list- 
 ens to the detail of his honourable daring, and me- 
 lancholy death, is a situation as nobly conceived, 
 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. 
 13 
 
164 VIENNA. 
 
 I must not be told* that the German language is 
 " at once monotonous and vulgar ;" that " there is 
 no nobleness in its passion ;" that the poet's lines, 
 M in the mouths of the best actors, have a muddy, 
 murmuring harshness;" that " there is, in fact, a 
 prosaic 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 or his own stage, may 
 form a judgment and pass an opinion. There is 
 another thing I am sorry to have been told, by a 
 gentleman of no common talent, no common obser- 
 vation, and whose three years' residence in Germa- 
 ny, together with the generally admitted ability of 
 his book, give him a most superior claim to atten- 
 tion, and cause him to be quoted, indeed, as an unan- 
 swerable authority, on almost every subject (except 
 her literature) connected with Germany,! — namely, 
 " that there cannot be a more dissolute city than 
 Vienna, — 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 awn- 
 ings, when they can ; they like to eat and drink of 
 
 * An Autumn near the Rhine, page 382, — a book by some 
 gentleman of undoubted talent, who has not treated this subject 
 quite fairly. I am an enemy, though an humble one, to all 
 sweeping and indiscriminate censure. 
 
 i Russet's Tour, 
 
VIENNA. 165 
 
 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 ; — all this 
 they like ; and it is strictly true with them, as else- 
 where, 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, very 
 trifling and inconsequent circumstances. 
 
 In the fitet place, before eleven o'clock at night 
 the city is in profound repose : not a female is to be 
 seen in the streets. A solitary figure may still stand 
 at the doorway in the alleys near the Graben, or a 
 shivering wretch still loiter on the ramparts near 
 the guard-houses, — but there is no impudent solicit- 
 ing 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 pro- 
 menades, and in the theatres, nothing can be more 
 quietly and naturally cheerful than the manners of 
 the citizens' wives and their daughters. The neat- 
 ness and care with which boys, girls, and children of 
 the tenderest ages, are dressed, and their smiling 
 and happy appearance, would lead the gazer to the 
 very natural conclusion — that their parents loved 
 them, and each other. That in Vienna the wealtjiy 
 
166 VIENNA. 
 
 profligate may purchase the favours of needy and 
 corrupted beauty, — and this, too, where the female 
 has family-duties that she violates, 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 in- 
 crease 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 dunce, the abandoned 
 should dance also, and that there should be ball- 
 rooms in which gentlemen are admitted for sixpence, 
 and females free, does not, I confess, surprise me 
 any more than the existence of many places of re- 
 sort both in Paris and London, where I doubt if the 
 meetings are for 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 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 English- 
 men 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 condem- 
 nation 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 va- 
 rious lodging-houses in the vicinity of Leicester- 
 Square, where foreigners are often made to fancy 
 themselves for the first few days in respectable pri- 
 vate lodgings, — to say nothing of the picture that 
 square must present to him every hour. 
 
 With regard to the people of Vienna, they are 
 
VIENNA. 167 
 
 politically degraded : they are not allowed to speak, 
 and they cannot be expected to think, like indepen- 
 dent men. But I believe them in their families to 
 be an honest, affectionate, cheerful race, always 
 ready to make holiday, happy in seeing their wives 
 and children partakers of their pleasures, and in no 
 feature of their character more remarkable than in 
 their frank and obliging deportment to the stranger. 
 
 1 recollect not to have seen a beggar in Vienna. 
 The benevolent institutions are numerous ; the go- 
 vernment 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 themselves 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, whether they talk, or sing ; and, strange 
 as it may sound, there certainly is, in this most de- 
 spotic of all governments, such a paternal mildness, 
 a justice, a wisdom in the administration of the laws, 
 and in the moral rule over the people, that crimes 
 are not 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 Leip- 
 sic. The Hungarian grenadiers are remarkably fine 
 men. They have not that smartness under arms 
 which the Prussians have, nor have they that ani- 
 mated 'intelligence of look which marked the old 
 13* 
 
168 VIENNA. 
 
 Imperial Guard of France. But they are very war- 
 like ; their stature tall, their limbs large, their com- 
 plexions brown, their uniform white, the cap of sable 
 fur, the pantaloon of a pale Hungarian blue ; they 
 are slow and steady in every movement; 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 have ever 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 Hungarians. A squadron of Hunga- 
 rian hussars disappointed me. We have no cavalry- 
 general that would not have ordered them off the 
 ground, their turn-out was so wretched ; but they 
 ride beautifully, and look bitter, and ready for the 
 melee. That, however, does not excuse such neglect 
 of cleanliness as would be discreditable 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-conditioned horses, I shall long remember. 
 The dress of the Austrian artillery is painfully 
 unmartial, but the men, taken as a body, are, per- 
 haps, as fine-looking soldiers as any nation can boast. 
 Their uniform is a rhubarb coloured drab jacket, of 
 a long awkward 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 conduct of 
 
VIENNA. 169 
 
 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 gene- 
 rals, 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 countenances, 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 con- 
 tinually to defeat them ? it must have astonished the 
 French themselves. The Austrian officer, who dis- 
 charges his duty with zeal and intrepidity, may never- 
 theless 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 
 behaved, although so few incentives are furnished to 
 their ambition, we must feel increased 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 Germans, 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 pen- 
 cil, are in their tent, they feel the camp a home. 
 As lovers, too, they object not to that hurried life 
 
170 VIENNA. 
 
 which strengthens and refines a virtuous attachment, 
 making the object of it a vision sweet and sacred for 
 those lonely hours, which, even amid the tumults of 
 a campaign, the soldier can always command. 
 
 Baden very greatly disappointed me. It is a poor 
 place, and not to be compared with any other water- 
 ing place in Germany which I saw. 
 
 The season was indeed gone by ; still it was evi- 
 dent to me what, even filled with company, Baden 
 would be. I visited the baths, and to my astonish- 
 ment saw persons of both sexes in the bath together, 
 andf moving about up to their necks in the steaming 
 water. A lady with the unwetted curls of a hand- 
 some 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 ; although cus- 
 tom 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 gar- 
 den. The bathing dresses are large, long, and fast- 
 tened 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 Pork, and a 
 painted wooden building, unworthy the poorest guin- 
 guette 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 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 during the season in great 
 numbers. At the mouth of this valley is a private 
 
VIENNA. 171 
 
 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 curtains, 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 glorious- 
 ly led, the armies of Austria, he most coveted, — a 
 home, a family, and repose. 
 
 He is universally represented as a man very do- 
 mestic and home-loving, and simple and unassuming 
 in his manners. It is a remarkable thing, that in 
 Austria, where kings and princes certainly possess 
 power the most despotic, their carriage and bearing 
 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 before 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 undistinguish- 
 ed 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 mem- 
 bers 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 ipto w Look at me ; I am an English^ 
 
172 VIENNA. 
 
 man, I am a free man. 1 have made you a bow, and 
 you ought to be, as doubtless you are, struck by my 
 politeness, and flattered by my condescension. My 
 bow is in real value equal to the united kotou of all 
 these slaves in the Prater, who, to my astonishment, 
 never bow at all, — one reason why I do." 
 
 You may easily discover from the manners of all 
 the servants, guards, and orderlies 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 hum- 
 blest citizen that walks the gardens of Schoenbrunn. 
 
 The palace of Schoenbrunn is a handsome, cheer- 
 ful residence ; its halls, staircases, 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 interested me 
 was a small plot of enclosed ground, which is tilled, 
 and looked after, by young Napoleon, who generally 
 resides with his governor in this palace. I naturally 
 looked in the garden of a boy for flowers and plants,' 
 but his fancy has been for the growing of potatoes. 
 His amusement, 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 represented as being very fond 
 of him. All persons about the palace spoke of the 
 youth with evident attachment. I visited his apart- 
 ments, they were plainly furnished, and his escritoir 
 
VIENNA. 173 
 
 bore marks of its belonging to a young task-writing 
 student. I saw also in this same palace the small se- 
 cluded cabinet occupied by Napoleon himself, where, 
 as the old servant, who, together with his own do- 
 mestics, 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. 
 
 There are several drawings in this cabinet which 
 hung in it at that time, and hang there still. They 
 are executed by different princesses of the Austrian 
 Imperial 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 1 was at Vienna young 
 Napoleon was staying in the neighbourhood of Pres- 
 burg 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 occur- 
 red 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 
 arrived in the capital that the worthy King of Bava- 
 ria had died most suddenly. The usual orders were 
 immediately given for performing funeral ceremo- 
 nies, in honour of his memory, in the private chapel 
 of 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 even- 
 ing, and a grand mass and requiem on the morrow. 
 I was present at both ; the court only at the first, 
 
174 VIENNA. 
 
 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 grenadiers, and two 
 or three hussar officers, who accompanied the com- 
 mander of the garrison, stood closely grouped. A 
 few persons of distinction sat in private pews, in a 
 gallery above, that have glass windows looking down 
 into the chapel. Among these, in a pew by himself, 
 next that of the Emperor's brother, was the young 
 Napoleon. He leaned from the open window during 
 the service : his complexion is very fair, his fore- 
 head good, the lower part of his face short and 
 rounded ; his nose not very prominent, but well- 
 shaped. The colour of his eyes 1 could not distin- 
 guish, 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 becoming 
 in a youth of fifteen. The solemnity 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 
 
VIENNA. 175 
 
 that bier was the gift of that father, when he decreed 
 that the Elector of Bavaria should wear one. The 
 regal honours and powers which he had bestowed 
 had outlived his own, even in life; and in death he 
 himself had lain down in the grave of an exile. 
 The son might remember, 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. Circum- 
 stance, however, brings about strange and miracu- 
 lous changes in, or rather developments of, human 
 character ; and the stirring trumpet may yet sound, 
 which shall awake in the bosom of this youth the 
 stern and ambitious spirit of his father. 
 
 All the associations of thought which crowded into 
 my mind were naturally calculated to increase the 
 interest of the scene. There was something inex- 
 pressibly affecting in the whole picture. A jewelled 
 crown upon a black pall ! How mournfully it glitters I 
 — it seems to tremble ! The meanest 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 candlesticks 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 
 14 
 
176 PRESBURG. 
 
 lake of Berchtolsgaden ; and I pitied, — though it 
 may sound wrong, — 1 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 ; and unsatingly delight- 
 ful to see the child of the mightiest and most won- 
 derful 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 inte- 
 rest 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, however, 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, strug- 
 gled for the mastery ; and 1 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 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 transfer- 
 red to a clean, comfortable bed-chamber. It is but 
 
PRESBURG. 177 
 
 forty miles from Vienna to Presburg; but if the tra- 
 veller will only walk, at an early hour, to the large 
 upper market, he may fancy himself four hundred 
 from any spot so civilized. 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, mas- 
 culine, and unclean. 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 remarkable feature in the scene, on a 
 wide dusty space near the market stand some hun- 
 dreds 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 provisions 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, dog-like, 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 religious 
 
178 PRESBURG. 
 
 liberty widely diffused throughout the world, — is a 
 man I pity. " Pshaw I" says 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 too of these wretched Sclavonians of yours 
 dancing, — as I live, dancing /" — Yes, they dance I 
 When a few paltry pence were given them, at the 
 door of an hotel, for some labour they had perform- 
 ed, 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 en- 
 raptured with the free Diet of Hungary. In the 
 hall, however, of the Hungarian Deputies, it is im- 
 possible not to feel a momentary delight, the pic- 
 ture is so new and so startling. I sat in the gallery, 
 whither I went at an early hour ; but it was filled to 
 suffocation before the members took their seats. 
 
 The hall is nothing remarkable, merely a long, 
 lofty chamber. A chair is raised on a step at the 
 upper end, for the president. Tables run the whole 
 length of the hall, covered with green cloth, and 
 supplied abundantly with materials for writing. Im- 
 mediately 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 mem- 
 bers, and there appeared to be more than three 
 hundred present, wore the national dress of Hunga- 
 ry. It consists of a hussar jacket and pantaloon, 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 
 
PRESBURG. 179 
 
 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 in the military service ; and the tassel and 
 cord of others were little vain additions, which men 
 dandified by residence in Vienna had ventured to as- 
 sume : but nothing 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 in- 
 terest on this belted assembly, the descendants of a 
 race of warriors ever ready to leap into their sad- 
 dles, — in fact, the vanguard of Europe against the 
 Turk. 
 
 I cordially hate the Turk, not because he is a Ma- 
 hometan ; I am not so wretched or so narrow-mind- 
 ed a Christian as that; but because all of him that 
 is not slave is tyrant ; because he would (if he could) 
 bring back upon the earth a moral darkness. 
 
 I must admit, indeed, that the Hungarian has 
 something of the tyrant in him, — a haughtiness got- 
 ten centuries ago, on horseback ; and that he has, in 
 his day, lorded it among his vassals, as did the barons 
 of our own country (blessings on their memory, ne- 
 vertheless !) 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 po- 
 pulation ; 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 
 14* 
 
180 PRESBURG. 
 
 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 man- 
 ly 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 construc- 
 tion of sentences ; but thus far I can say, it was not a 
 bald, meagre, thin Latin ; and many of the sentences 
 fell richly rounded on my ear. There was one 
 churchman, 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 lieutenancy. 
 His loyal expressions towards the person and family 
 of the Emperor were warm, and seemed to be sin- 
 cere ; but he returned, quite as bitterly, to his attack 
 on the measure on which he sought to impeach the 
 minister j and, in one part, where he was more par- 
 
PRESBURG. 181 
 
 -ticularly pleading the cause of the people, he cried 
 out, with animation, " Vox populi^ Vox Dei!" It 
 electrified the whole assembly. There were many 
 loud " Vivats .'" not only among the deputies them- 
 selves, but also from almost all the persons in the 
 gallery. 
 
 For a brief moment I might have fancied myself 
 in a free assembly, but the calm, complacent smile 
 upon the features of a keen-looking president, who 
 is the representative 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 dissipated 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 behind them, wait tamely in the street, and 
 such of the spurred members as have one get slow- 
 ly into it, loll indolently back, and are driven to 
 their lodgings. This, it will be observed, was a 
 meeting of the Second Chamber; a holding of the 
 full Diet, where the Magnates attend, I was not for- 
 tunate 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, judging from what I did see, the splendor 
 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 
 
182 PRESBURG. 
 
 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 cuiras- 
 siers. A regiment of these last lay in garrison here, 
 and some strong battalions of infantry, consisting en- 
 tirely of men from the Italian provinces of the em- 
 pire. So much for the Houses of Lords and Com- 
 mons at Presburg, and for the chance of free discus- 
 sion in the kingdom 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 remarkable 
 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 repre- 
 sented, while his horse is prancing to the rein, di- 
 viding his cloak with a sabre, according to the le- 
 gend. It forms a most appropriate altar-piece, in 
 reference to those days, when Hungary was a king- 
 dom of warriors on horseback. Perhaps the most 
 interesting feature about Presburg was the presence 
 of so many old Hungarian nobles of the second class, 
 
PRESBURG. 183 
 
 from the country and the upper provinces. Their 
 grave and staid appearance, the females of their fa- 
 milies 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 describing. 
 
 One youthful and gentlemanlike-like looking man, 
 who must have often ridden in Hyde Park, by his 
 dress, his horse, and the quietness of his manner 
 and style of riding, followed, 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 speaking 
 English very' well, leaned over from his box at the 
 theatre, entered agreeably and freely into conversa- 
 tion, and promised me an invitation to a grand ball, 
 at which all the Magnates were to be present, a few 
 days afterwards. This kindness 1 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 Pres- 
 burg, rolling rapidly along a commodious road in a 
 neat, well-varnished, well-padded eilwagen, it was 
 strange to reflect 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 Vienna, the 
 Turk seems to have as little business near it as near 
 
184 VIENNA. 
 
 Hyde Park, or Kensington Gardens; yet, so it was - 
 yesterday, — a mere yesterday, in the records of his- 
 tory. At that memorable period a few discontented 
 and haughty nobles of Hungary made them feel, 
 throughout x\ustria, 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 occur, that hateful sight, — the Crescent glitter- 
 ing before the walls of Vienna? Would the Greek 
 pity them ? Methinks not. That they will in all 
 probability be safe from such a visitation 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 tottered 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 hundred 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 pleasant 
 sight to see the whole of the respectable and middle 
 classes of Vienna walking in family groups, and pre- 
 senting to your eye, in good clothes, healthy looks, 
 and calmly smiling faces, many clear indications of 
 an active and rewarded industry, easy circumstances, 
 and a thankful enjoyment 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 
 battle have rolled near it, and that the dying and the 
 
VIENNA. 185 
 
 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 moment concealed, even af- 
 ter their city was possessed by the French, yet they 
 speak well of the conduct of Napoleon, and of the 
 discipline of his troops. The Itinerary of Reichard, 
 to awaken, I suppose, the feelings and indignation of 
 the traveller, records, that " the tame stags in the 
 Prater were all killed by the French soldiers in 1809." 
 An old campaigner may be pardoned for suspecting 
 that the Austrian yager and the Hungarian hussar 
 had their share of the venison. By some easy ar- 
 rangement this loss has been repaired. A little be- 
 yond 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 ani- 
 mals 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 
 executed 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. Judg- 
 ing from these 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 
 
186 VIENNA. 
 
 their heart. The eye of the Italian, when he lis- 
 tens, sparkles ; the eye of the German is not unfre- 
 quently 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 can- 
 not be indulged otherwise than in silence. Here, 
 too, I would remark, and the connexion of the sub- 
 jects is admissible, 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 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 plain- 
 ly so, in the expression of his countenance, when en- 
 gaged in prayer. 
 
 I know many of my readers will exclaim, " This 
 is all fancy : you deceive j^ourself willingly, accord- 
 ing to the frame of your mind, and the tone of your 
 reflections at the moment." — Really, I think simply 
 what I say : appearances, generally, are all I pre- 
 tend, as a traveller, to examine, — are almost the 
 only guides of my judgment ; and, I must say, speak- 
 ing 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 
 
VIENNA^ 187 
 
 not see : few, very few travellers do. It is by no 
 means difficult for an English gentleman to obtain 
 introduction to the large and public assemblies of 
 the higher circles : but these can have little of cha- 
 racter in their aspect ; and I felt little disappointed 
 that there were none held at the season of my visit. 
 I own I should have greatly coveted admission to 
 those private circles where families meet in quie- 
 tude, and are fond of music, peace, and each other. 
 That Vienna 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 enjoy- 
 ment 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 examine the long lists of 
 amateurs abroad, you will find a count and a cobbler 
 on the same page ; and in the concert saloons there 
 is collected, on a momentary equality, all the musi- 
 cal talent which men and women, 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 at- 
 tendance of gentle and accomplished performers. 
 The like you might do at almost every decent coua- 
 15 
 
188 VIENNA. 
 
 try-seat; and, if you speak of London, the thought 
 startles you. 
 
 On the other hand, for one English gentleman 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, handsome, lover- 
 like looking officer of cuirassiers riding slowly at 
 the garden of Schonbrunn (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 ge- 
 neral cultivation of music among the females in Ger- 
 many, as an accomplishment, it is not so extensive a 
 practice as we imagine, 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, ex- 
 pressed themselves alike surprised and charmed with 
 the many sweet attractions of our private circles, 
 arising 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. 1 like, in foreign cities, to stand in 
 the market-places, lounge near shops of furniture, 
 jewellery, toys, and fill up the frame-work of pri- 
 vate 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 incalculable advantage. 
 It is not, however, necessary to talk German to re- 
 
VIENNA 189 
 
 side in this capital ; French is universally spoken ; 
 Italian 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 contempt 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 pronun- 
 ciation, and conquer its difficulties. 
 
 It cannot be denied that the political degradation 
 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 measures relating to 
 their internal policy ; and they smile to see your 
 curiosity and eagerness about matters which they 
 leave, without one sigh of regret, to be ordered and 
 controlled by a cabinet that works in darkness. 
 
 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 excep- 
 tion, 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 in- 
 timacy 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 
 
190 VIENNA. 
 
 among contented subjects feelings of hostility to the 
 measures of their cabinet, he must expect what he 
 deserves, — an order to quit the city. But the Eng- 
 lish appear to me, wherever I have been on the 
 Continent, and at Vienna as elsewhere, to enjoy a 
 very remarkable exemption from all petty persecu- 
 tions. They may express their opinions freely, and 
 maintain them quietly in the common course of con- 
 versation, 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 Metternich 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. Paul's Church-yard, and will, as some English- 
 men of 'rank can testify, most assuredly return the 
 blow. 1 have my doubts if this privilege would not 
 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 
 
VIENNA. 191 
 
 class elevated in rank and possessions : their titles, 
 their wealth, and some inconsequent privileges, 
 alone, but jet widely, separate them from the peo- 
 ple, 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 English- 
 man : but they sink into utter insignificance in his 
 estimation, when compared with the aristocracy 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 
 his own, and no dignity beyond the sound of a title 
 and the glitter of a star. 
 
 I have not noticed many things in Vienna which 
 travellers are always taken to see, and which any 
 guide-book will indicate : 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 Matthias. The coffins are 
 very large, and of bronze, those of the earliest date 
 perfectly plain, others wrought with trophies and 
 achievements. A Capuchin lights a taper, and con- 
 ducts 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 confirmingly re- 
 ply. 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 
 15* 
 
192 VIENNA. 
 
 caused it to be erected during her life, and how she 
 was wont to visit and descend into this vault, and 
 pass long hours in it alone, in prayer and meditation. 
 Madame de Stael has finely observed upon this : — 
 " II y a beaucoup oVexemples cPune devotion serieuse et 
 constante parmi les souverains de la terre : comme ils 
 tfob'eissent qifa la mort, son irresistible pouvoir lesfrap- 
 pe davantage. Les difficultes de la vie se placent Gntre 
 nous et la tombe ; tout est aplani pour les rois jusqu^au 
 terme, et cela meme le rend plus visible H leurs yeux" 
 
 The finest monument in Vienna is that to the 
 memory of the Archduchess Christina, 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 sculp- 
 tor, I admired it greatly ; but, as a monumental me- 
 morial, I regard it cumbrous and overdone. I should 
 think that the noble and grand simplicity of Cano- 
 va's taste was compelled to yield to the affectionate 
 but unfortunate wishes of his employer, who desired 
 a work vast and costly. His noble group of The- 
 seus killing the Minotaur adorns this city, and stands 
 in a temple on the Grecian model, erected on pur- 
 pose 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 Far- 
 nese at Naples. 
 
 It is a very great delight at Vienna that the ar- 
 rangements 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 indignation, that this city contains no monuments 
 of princely or public gratitude to the memory of 
 those great men who have rendered services to Aus- 
 
VIENNA. 193 
 
 tria. 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 remov- 
 ed 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 Augustines, 
 where Daun reposes, the anniversary of the victory 
 of Collin is celebrated by a public Te Deum, on the 
 18th of June, every year; and on the 3d of Novem- 
 ber, a Requiem is sung here, in the presence of the 
 garrison, to the memory of the Austrian soldiers 
 who were slain. Eugene lies entombed in the ca- 
 thedral 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 deserv- 
 ed and gratifying memorials 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 illustrious, generous-minded, enthu- 
 siastic sovereign : 
 
 " SALUTI PUBLICO VIXIT NON DIU SED T0TU9." 
 
 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 ; whereas he strip- 
 ped her of immense and irrecoverable influence, 
 when he opened the treasures of her convents, dis- 
 persed their wealth, drove forth the corrupt and 
 
194 PRAGUE. 
 
 idle members, and alienated their wide possessions. 
 The half of what he suppressed 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 em- 
 pire 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 population, and a hundred things, 
 trifles in themselves, but such as no traveller could 
 have described for me, nor could 1 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 
 Germauy rapidly and commodiously. 
 
 There is an eilwagen to Prague, which place you 
 reach in six-and-thirty hours. If there are more 
 passengers than fill the carriage, they are conveyed 
 in extra vehicles, and the whole proceed by post 
 under the charge of one conductor, 
 
 With the exception of Znaym in Moravia, and 
 Collin in Bohemia, you pass no large towns. The 
 country is well cultivated, the villages populous. 
 The peasants 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 scene- 
 ry : mountains, however, are always to be seen in 
 
PRAGUE. 195 
 
 the far distance. 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 bot- 
 tom of which lies the ancient 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 traveller? Why, I will ven- 
 ture 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 political consequence, but 
 that battle which we have heard well or ill played 
 some scores of times in our boyhood. I can remem- 
 ber, as it were yesterday, though it is five-and-twen- 
 ty 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" — 
 w charge of cavalry" — " galloping of horses" — 
 " clashing of swords" — " groans of the wounded and 
 the dying" — " grand march" — " God save the King;" 
 — and then that little light Turkish music to set all 
 right again in the stirred heart, and send you away 
 a smiling messenger for the rewarding glass of le- 
 monade or orgeat. Of course I went to the memo- 
 rable 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," 
 
196 PRAGUE. 
 
 stuck fairly in my throat, and I scarce felt as a sol- 
 dier ought to feel, till I came upon the tomb of Mar- 
 shal 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 
 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 
 answering of a warrior's pra»sr, made constant 
 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 mo- 
 dern streets are wide and handsome ; but the mar- 
 ket-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 pala- 
 ces of the ancient Bohemian nobles, the large pub- 
 lic 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 picturesque, is 
 far more impressive than any view of Vienna. A 
 dozen times the traveller will cross and recross the 
 bridge, stained with the grey hue of age, and guard- 
 ed, as it were, by eight-and-tvventy 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 
 
PRAGUE. 197 
 
 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 travers- 
 ed it. No beggar 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, forgets not John Huss, and Jerome of Prague. 
 The Englishman reflects, with no less gratitude, on 
 the memory of the great Wickliffe, his countryman, 
 and regards the immense power of human influence 
 with delighted awe. " How solemn is a residence 
 in this world," when we can trace, through five cen- 
 turies, and among countless millions, 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 little at Prague but saunter 
 about for three days, in idle pleasure, entering 
 places as the fancy took me. I walked through the 
 stately salqpns 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 cen- 
 tury 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 
 
198 PRAGUE. 
 
 has escaped all plunderers, and survived the wars of 
 centuries : yet one tower of this very church 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 recon- 
 noitred the place. The extent of Prague is so great, 
 it would take an army to garrison and defend it. 
 The works are in a ruinous state, nor will they 
 suffer any stranger to ascend the slopes of the ram- 
 part. 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, Bohe- 
 mian grenadiers, were tall, handsome soldiers. The 
 band, which was of great strength, consisting of not 
 less than forty musicians, made a most slovenly 
 appearance, being dressed 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 : these 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 moment, or I should certainly have entered, 
 for the pleasure of seeing the fierce Uhlan* who 
 
PRAGUE. 199 
 
 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 thea- 
 tre 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 unseat better riders than John 
 Gilpin. This long peace will effect wonders in 
 making the nations of Europe better acquainted 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 newspa- 
 pers, small articles of cheap luxury, and of neat 
 finished manufacture ; nay, Warren's blacking 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 remark- 
 able triumph, which, during this period of tranquil- 
 lity, 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 placarded in the win- 
 dow. The Germans find great fault with the trans- 
 lations which they have of them ; but they say so 
 much beauty rays through the obscu/ity of those 
 translations, that they are universally read. A Ger- 
 man gentleman declared to me that vast numbers of 
 16 
 
1>00 PRAGUE 
 
 Lis countrymen had 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 repeatediy 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 language, and who invariably address you 
 about those novels, and their reputed author; and 
 on more than one occasion 1 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 undervalued, and such 
 works as have been translated into English miserably 
 rendered. How far they may be right I am not 
 qualified to form a judgment ; but I should think 
 that the Tale of Sintram must retain in its English 
 dress much of the spirit of its original ; for it cer- 
 tainly 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 translation of Wallenstein 
 by Mr. Coleridge is not procurable in London, al- 
 though 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 pro- 
 bably 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 possessed of 
 
 I met with several pleasant conversible men at the 
 table of my hotel, and received particular attention 
 
PRAGUE. 201 
 
 from some Austrian officers of rank. I was present 
 at the representation of a piece in the theatre, which 
 was exceedingly well acted ; but there did not ap- 
 pear much in it beyond spectacle : however, the 
 heroine, the beauty, the diamond, the treasure of 
 this drama, was " eine Englanderin ;" and some Ger- 
 mans 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 third night I witnessed the performance of the 
 Abbe de PEpee. Being acquainted with the story, 
 and remembering John Kemble in the character of 
 the Abbe, I was enabled to follow the actors through 
 their parts, and received the highest gratification 
 that chaste and natural acting could, in a piece of 
 that class, afford. They admirably understand the 
 stage business, and all that quiet, deliberate, effec- 
 tive by-play, which does so amazingly increase the 
 interest excited, and give such reality to the illusion. 
 
 I had instructed my domestique 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 returned boasting of a "fort belle occa- 
 sion" for Dresden. Accordingly, in the morning, 
 having dismissed and settled with him the night 
 previous, 1 found myself in a most wretched vehicle, 
 dirty and incommodious, with a captain of Austrian 
 hussars, good-iooking, 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 
 
202 PRAGUE. 
 
 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 capita! borses and a civil driver, for Toplitz. 
 " Cela suffit" and u Fort belle occasion : w — knowing 
 well those dotnestiques de place, how could I trust to 
 the treacherous phrases ? 
 
 I had a delightful drive, slept at a small village, 
 where I was comfortably accommodated, and the 
 next day at the place, where I refreshed, encoun- 
 tered the carriage I had abandoned. I was amaz- 
 ingly 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 imme- 
 diately 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, pro- 
 bably 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 gentle- 
 man was come on leave from the frontiers of Tur- 
 key, where his regiment was stationed. He told me 
 that a great change was observable among the Turk- 
 ish troops on that station. They were by no means 
 
LOWOSITZ. 
 
 vhe haughty and insolent men remembered by those 
 officers long acquainted with the frontier, but were 
 yielding and conciliatory, and affected the part of 
 " bon camarade" with all the Austrians near them. 
 With these two officers I had a very long conversa- 
 tion : the one was a man of forty, the other some- 
 what 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 num- 
 ber 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 1 admit they were not very 
 wise subjects), speaks volumes for the proverbial 
 indifference of the Austrian to all arrangements of 
 his government, which do not personally affect him 
 as an individual. 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, 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 suspect both these men 
 were mere w 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 cheerful hour with 
 these officers, 1 left them to smoke their second pipe, 
 and walked forward 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 1 walked overlooked and formed part of a 
 16* 
 
204 LOWOSITZ. 
 
 field, memorable for a very bloody victory, gained 
 by the Prussians 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 carry- 
 ing the last of the vintage, and I met a party of iti- 
 nerant musicians coming slowly down the hill, con- 
 sisting 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 feel- 
 ing 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, 
 ci 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. Bohe- 
 mia is the land of music. The children in the vil- 
 lages 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 colouring to the thoughts, a capacity 
 for those deep reveries which lift man^s spirit to the 
 invisible world, and without being conscious of it, he 
 is imperceptibly imbued with all that is indefinably 
 sublime n th j mystery of our connection with those 
 shadows and .ntelligences which flit unseen about 
 our path and our bed, and hold communings' with 
 our lonely thoughts by day, and with our solitary 
 
DRESDEN. 205 
 
 visions in the night-season. Music has been called, 
 I think it is by Madame de Stael, " a glorious inu- 
 tility ;" a proof ihat it is one of those divine gifts to 
 man, which was designed 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 !" 
 
 1 arrived in the evening at Toplitz. It is a water- 
 ing 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, agreeable 
 promenades, and picturesque scenery ; and I should 
 have thought it delightful 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 build- 
 ings 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 tower 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, spann- 
 ed by a very fine bridge ; that there are two spacious 
 squares or market-places, w r hich have an aspect 
 peculiar and quite their cd>n For, though many 
 travellers have styled Dresden the Florence of Ger- 
 many, the white mansions and regular facades of 
 
206 DRESDEN. 
 
 Florence, and the red fronts, the forms and shapes of 
 the windows, and of the gables, and housetops, 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 Gal- 
 lery of Paintings, and Hall of Antiquities ; and, if 
 Florence 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 con- 
 tents, 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 cata- 
 logue is as follows : 
 
 " La Madonne avec I'Enfant divin sur une nue au 
 milieu d'une gloire ; a droite un St. Pape a genoux ; 
 ii est vetu d^ne tunique blanche et d'un pallium de 
 drap d'or. La tiare est a son cote ; a gauche la St. 
 Barbe egalement a genoux, et le regard baisse vers 
 deux petits anges reposant sur un plan au pied de 
 cette composition, aussi sublime que simple." 
 
 The form, the light and airy tread upon the cloud, 
 the grace of her long and flowing garments, 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 oftice. 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. 
 
DRESDEN. 207 
 
 and looking gravely from its young eyes. St. Sixtus, 
 an aged and withered figure, kneels in solemn won- 
 der, 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 Madonna : this is no face of the poet's dream, 
 no face to search for in kings' palaces : it 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 miracu- 
 lous 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 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 
 Ood, the Redeemer of mankind : wonder, love, and 
 
208 DRESDEN. 
 
 faitb, 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 scorn- 
 er : — u 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 masterpiece, by ar- 
 tists. The first was from an elderly connoisseur, 
 who stood by my side at one of my repeated visits 
 to it, and exclaimed, pettishly : " C^est beau; mais la 
 Sainte Barbare gate tout" The second was from a 
 female amateur, or artist, who was engaged in tak- 
 ing 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'd' > 03uvre 1 RS I leaned over her easel, and was con- 
 versing with her on the contents of the gallery, she 
 said, u Out, Monsieur, c^est sublime ; mais ne irouvez- 
 vous pas que le regard de la Sainte Vierge vous fait 
 frissoner ?" 
 
 A page could not so fully have impressed me with 
 all that in his high inspiration, Raphael designed to 
 convey, and has so wonderfully succeeded in por- 
 traying — Frissoner! yes, the Parisian belle, in whom 
 the spark of modesty, though dimmed by that taint- 
 ed atmosphere, has yet never been totally extin- 
 guished, may well gaze on the serene majesty which 
 beams with a fixed ray from the eyes of the Madon 
 na de San Sisto. and feel the involuntary chill 
 
DRESDEN. 209 
 
 I must not detain my reader longer in this gallery, 
 although 1 visited it daily for hours, giving always, 
 however, hy far the greater part of the time 1 lin- 
 gered in it to the contemplation of this one picture. 
 
 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 Ca- 
 tholic church at Dresden during my stay, in memo- 
 ry of the deceased electors of Saxony : it is annual. 
 1 went for the sake of hearing the music of this 
 church, which is celebrated throughout Germany, 
 and to see the ro}'al 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 description, I 
 was much surprised to see an elderly gentleman, in 
 a suit of court mourning, with bag and solitaire, ruf- 
 fles, and a muff, in which, except for some momenta- 
 ry 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 throughout Europe ; yet 
 to see such a figure, and to think that it had worn a 
 crown, throughout 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 
 
210 DRESDEN. 
 
 will not, he cannot, be disappointed. It is true, 
 some pain will mingle with his pleasure. Although 
 the warbles of the most celebrated 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 ;" 
 
 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 extraor- 
 dinary 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 fan- 
 cy. As a politician, Napoleon did not, certainly, 
 shine during the conferences held at that period ; 
 but, as a General, since his memorable and succes- 
 sive triumphs in three closely consecutive battles* 
 
 * Montenotte, Millesimo, Mondovi, 
 
DRESDEN. till 
 
 in the campaign of 1796, in Italy, by his able appli- 
 cation of the principle of central movements (his fa- 
 vourite one), he never appeared to greater advan- 
 tage than when he repulsed the combined and well- 
 concerted attack on his position at Dresden. 
 
 The great and constant rival and enemy of Buona- 
 parte perished upon the field of Dresden. We may 
 question the soundness of the judgment which de- 
 creed him a monument of honour on that field. The 
 fame of a leader, whose triumphant entry into Augs- 
 burg 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 unfortunate, though not unaccountable close 
 of his military life, should be thus mistakenly perpe- 
 tuated. 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, composed 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 Napoleon, 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 sor- 
 row. 
 
 These ends of renowned lives, how strange they 
 
 are ! In the armoury of Dresden you may see and 
 
 grasp the pistols of Charles the Twelfth. There 
 
 be few English visitors on whose minds the life, the 
 
 17 
 
212 DRESDEN. 
 
 history, and the fate of this hero-monarch are not 
 indelibly stamped, by the nervous lines of Johnson, 
 This armoury of Dresden would be a most interest- 
 ing display, were not the rooms so small, and the ar- 
 rangement so wretched, that it is impossible to exa- 
 mine 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. Here you may see countless suits of 
 ancient armour, and the most splendid horse-furni- 
 ture among them ; the caparison of a horse so cost- 
 ly, that the frontlet, head-stall, neck-ornaments, and 
 breast-plate, are entirely studded with large and 
 beautiful turquoises. There are a number of relics 
 of like interest; things that are mere nothings in de- 
 scription, but are much to see. The like may be 
 said of the treasures in the Green Vault ; it is a great 
 and rare pleasure to visit them: — crowns and rega- 
 lia, rich with the most costly gems; ancient services 
 of massy embossed plate; goblets and vases of an- 
 tique forms ; precious enamels ; inlaid cabinets ; the 
 finest camei ; quaint and grotesque toys, made of the 
 coral and the pearl, the topaz and the emerald. Ma- 
 ny articles of virtu, of the most curious and ancient 
 workmanship, and some works in ivory, so beauti- 
 fully 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 small chamber where the articles in 
 ivory are exhibited. Many of them are the outsides 
 of goblets, these being lined with a thin plate of 
 gold. There is no catalogue of the contents of this 
 vault, and the objects to be viewed are so numerous 
 
DRESDEN. 5213 
 
 and bewildering, that it is impossible, at one visit,* 
 to make notes, or to separate and fix in your mind 
 the things which you maybe desirous to remember: 
 but the effect, as a whole, is long thought of, and 
 illustrates 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 treasu- 
 ry 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 art which furnishes a most inno- 
 cent and elegant luxury to man, — a luxury which, in 
 degree, is felt throughout society at large. The ef- 
 fect which, 1 think, is produced 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 civilising. There 
 is a something pleasing to the eye, contenting, re- 
 conciling, 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 Antiquities. I 
 found in the collection a Minerva, and some Vestals, 
 — statues of the very highest class ! The Professor 
 accompanied me politely round the whole collection, 
 and left me, at my request, alone. I enjoy ail an- 
 tiques alone ; and it is only so that I can. I take 
 this to be the case with more travellers than care to 
 
 * The attendant there said to me, but not complainingly, as 
 I went away, that few visitors, in his remembrance, had detain- 
 ed him so long. I confess myself delighted with such trifles :— 
 
 " These little things are great to little men." 
 
214 DRESDEN. 
 
 own it. A man shows me a coin, (a Ptolemy, for in- 
 stance,) throws out the flag of antiquarianism, spreads 
 abroad the canvass of his learning, and sails away 
 stately upon the ocean of ancient history. Well, the 
 thoughts that are amusing me are those connected 
 with the history of the coin, and the domestic man- 
 ners of past ages; how it was upon the stone-tahle 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 f is a liberty to talk 
 thus with you, reader ; but I am fancying myself at 
 dinner with you, and writing as 1 should speak. 
 
 I was at a concert at Dresden which was very 
 fully attended, and was highly gratified. A lady, 
 who performed on the grand piano, made the instru- 
 ment speak each note with a loud distinct clearness 
 that was quite wonderful. 1 had no idea before that 
 the powers of the piano were so great. 
 
 At the theatre here I witnessed the performance 
 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. 
 
 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 demeanour which forbids even a suspi- 
 cion 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. 
 
LEIPSIC. 21* 
 
 There is an excellent reading-room at Dresden, 
 where are the English papers, the English reviews, 
 and Germans attentively reading them. u It is a 
 great advantage to us Germans," a gentleman ob- 
 served to me, in French, " that we are forced to 
 make ourselves acquainted with the languages 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, 
 14 we are rich in original thinkers, and in good wri- 
 ters, and have had the great advantage of studying, 
 not only the finest models in ancient times, but the 
 finest which Italy, France, and England, have pro- 
 duced.*' 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 approach or the stir they glare at you reprov- 
 ingly. 
 
 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 after- 
 noon. Our party consisted of a very fine young offi- 
 cer of riflemen, a young Russian, a student of Halle, 
 a little fiery Saxon, domiciled at Paris, and myself. 
 The road to Meissen is beautiful : the majestic Elbe 
 flows calmly by your side, and rock, wood, and ver- 
 dure, adorn its banks with all that can give a pleas- 
 ing variety to river-scenery. From Meissen to Leip- 
 sic there is less to interest the eye ; but the conver- 
 sation was so animated, that I was heartily sorry 
 when we reached our journey's end, and separated 
 to our respective homes and hotels. If Germany 
 has many such young officers, and if her universi- 
 ties, with all his wildness, have manv such students, 
 17* 
 
216 LEIPS1C. 
 
 she may be proud indeed. These young men were 
 ready upon every subject, generous and enlightened 
 upon all; and yet, I do believe that the cap, the 
 hair, and the pipe of the student, the moustache of 
 the youthful soldier, would have caused many a most 
 kind, quiet Englishman to have shrunk from con- 
 versing with fellow-passengers, whose exterior pro- 
 mised so little to reward the trouble. The German 
 youth have a solidity of thought, and sincerity of 
 heart, which colours all their conversation on sub- 
 jects of a deep moral interest. They are largely 
 tolerant on religious matters ; not as some have un- 
 fairly forced the inference, from indifference to re- 
 ligion, 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 unlike any of 
 that great family elsewhere. The < alvinist and the 
 Lutheran love each other as Christians : all are in- 
 clined to mysticism in some slight degree, save the 
 Rationalists, who are as inconsiderable in numbers as 
 they are uninfluential on the mind of the public at 
 large. The school of the Rationalists* has not been 
 
 # I have read, with deep attention, a volume of Sermons, by 
 the Rev. Mr. Rose, of Trinity College, Cambridge. I merely 
 would ask, as a query, whether u The State of Protestantism in 
 Germany" be a fair title for the book of that learned gentle- 
 man ? To the mind of many readers, after a most careful peru- 
 sal 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 po- 
 pulation, distinguishing the acknowledged profession and tenets 
 of the different persuasions ; and the numbers in each church or 
 sect, as far *s they could be ascertained, should have been add- 
 ed to the list of those controversial works, which are, perhaps, 
 Jess highly valued in Germany than he may imagine. 
 
LEIPS1C, 21* 
 
 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 mys- 
 teries revealed to us in the Bible. " To live, and 
 move, and have our being," a miracle to ourselves, 
 and among created miracles of every possible varie- 
 ty ; to find our reason baifled by the first pebble we 
 pick up beneath our feet, all the properties of which 
 we can most scientifically describe, but of the essence 
 of which we know nothing ; and then to explain 
 away the less wonderful miracles of Scripture, be- 
 cause 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 n his heart. I was present in the great 
 church of Leipsic at the administration of the sacra- 
 ment. The communicants stood in long files, and 
 advanced reverentially towards the altar; they re- 
 ceived the holy elements standing, and passing round 
 the aitar, again rejoined the congregation. The 
 congregation, whether 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, and by the black scull-cap, the ancient 
 ruffs, (like those of our Elizabethan era,) and the 
 reverend aspect of the officiating ministers, i cer- 
 tainly was impressed, and that strongly, with the feel- 
 ing and sincere devotion of the communicants. We 
 kneel at the altar, another church sits at the commu- 
 nion-table, these stand and sing a hymn : we all do 
 
218 LE1PS1C. 
 
 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 thanks- 
 giving. 
 
 The Sabbath-aspect of Leipsic was still and deco- 
 rous. 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, heneath 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 Croatian 
 plunderers. The Swedish horse fought fiercely to 
 recover his mangled and breathless body. Glorious 
 in life, consistent and glorious in death, the morning 
 saw him on his knees fervent in prayer, as if every- 
 thing depended on God ; 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 bails he fainted in his saddle, was thrown from 
 his horse, and breathed his last, without one attend- 
 ant, beneath the trampling melee of foes and friends. 
 Peace to the Christian hero, who fought and fell for 
 liberty 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 Protest- 
 ants of Germany, after thirty years of warfare and 
 blood, have never yet denied to their fellow-country- 
 men 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, u Gustavus Adolphus, King of Swe- 
 den, fell here for Libertv of Conscience." 
 
LEIPS1C. 
 
 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 commemorate, 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 decipherable. I 
 gathered a green leaf from one of the rustling pop- 
 lars, 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 Deum 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, declaring, in 
 the agonies of death, that he died with pleasure, 
 since hk was certain that the most implacable enemy 
 of his religion had perished on the same field. 
 
 The account of this obstinate and sanguinary con- 
 test 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 trum- 
 pets. We can follow the King to his very fall ; and 
 the terrible fierceness of the combatants, after the 
 death of Gustavus was known, is present to the eye. 
 Cannon were taken and retaken ; whole regiments 
 
 * On his forehead two red streaks were perceptible, with 
 which nature had marked him at his birth. These appeared, 
 V/henever in a passion, even in his later years. 
 
 Sc/uZ/er's History of the Thirty Years' War, 
 
WO LEIPSIC. 
 
 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. 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 elsewhere 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 country book- 
 seller 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, 1 should say nothing could be more 
 coarse and wretched than the paper, the types, the 
 ink, and the binding of these volumes. 
 
 It is, 1 think, to be regretted that the Germans 
 will not adopt the Roman letters in the publication 
 of their own works. 1 am sure that it would greatly 
 tend to spread the knowledge of their ianguage ; 
 and that it would not only facilitate their own stu- 
 dies in the various languages of Europe, but would 
 open w r ider the door of intercourse between Ger- 
 many and England 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 prejudice But surely, 
 speaking of the nations of Europe now, as one great 
 family of brothers at peace, the one should yield to 
 the many. 1 am sure that I am not mistaken in pro- 
 nouncing the German character, both as printed and 
 
LEIPSIC. 221 
 
 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 acquisition 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 begin- 
 ner. 
 
 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 pleasant walks, prettily placed seats, summer- 
 houses, and a well fancied Chinese temple with bells 
 that jingle in the wind ; a narrow inconsiderable 
 stream runs at the bottom of this pleasure-ground ; 
 and in the midst of the garden is a fair green space, 
 where some large and beautiful willows droop mourn- 
 fully 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 slaugh- 
 ter 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 
 
2Sft LEIPSiC. 
 
 and innocent, as though the world were so, and might 
 be trusted. 
 
 Heavens ! how man mars this green and flowery 
 earth we tread upon ! and how proud is he of his 
 polluting lordship over it ! I often think of that sweet 
 ballad, " The Cruel Brother ; or, The Bride's Tes- 
 tament,"* 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 wind- 
 ing sheet ; these shift rapidly before you, yet there 
 is nature, constant, gay, sweet, unchanging. 
 
 I think, and 1 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 brings in its train, and yet of such 
 inconsistencies are we all made up, that I confess to 
 the having experienced feelings of contentment, joy, 
 and pride, in the camp and the bivouac, which 1 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 
 
 * A FRAGMENT OF THE BALLAD. 
 
 " She leaned her o'er the saddle bow, 
 With a heigh-ho ! and a lily gay, 
 To give him a kiss ere she did go, 
 As the primrose spreads so sweetly. 
 
 " He has ta'en a knife baith lang and sharp, 
 With a heigh-ho ! and a lily gay, 
 And stabbed the bonny bride to the heart, 
 A s the primrose spreads, so sweetly." 
 
POTSDAM. 223 
 
 the early march, such a proud exciting throb, such 
 high hope, — 
 
 " When front to front the banner' 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 returned wounded and debilitated from this 
 field of Leipsic, and marked among them young lads 
 of gentle birth (the Garde cPHonneur), 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 u Vive PEmpereur /" 
 but guessing, perhaps, themselves, what their deject- 
 ed officers well knew, that they were but as lambs 
 going to the sacrifice. 
 
 I am glad 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 in- 
 structors. I was surprised, however, to witness, at 
 *he guard-mounting, something most informal and 
 18 
 
 
224 POTSDAM. 
 
 unmilitary. Just before the last call of assembly, 
 which brought out the commandant and all the officers 
 of the garrison, the adjutant, or town-major, who had 
 already inspected the guards, wheeled them back, 
 and marched them past, drums beating 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 com- 
 mander 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 
 handsome, very erect, and clean-limbed : their cloth- 
 ing (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-discipline in France 
 makes the French soldier unsteady on parade, and, 
 placing no habitual check upon the eager restless- 
 ness of his character, causes him to be often dange- 
 rously 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 advance 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 under- 
 stand me, a saucy English light company, or any thing 
 
 • It is remarkable that the Prussians never fought better than 
 during their " Liberation War," as they proudly and justly terra 
 it, in 1813, 1814; yet were their troops of that time, in all cir- 
 cumstances of composition, drill, and military orrW. inferior fo 
 • fhev had been; and what the? 
 
POTSDAM. 
 
 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. 
 
 Repeatedly I saw on the Continent troops of most 
 warlike, brave, and martial appearance ; but I al- 
 ways felt the truth of our ambassador's reply to 
 Frederick : — " Think you an equal number of Eng- 
 lish 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 handsome 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 out of the window, may look up and down 
 straight, stately, still streets. 
 
 1 went into the church of the court and the garri- 
 son, to see the tomb of Frederick the Great. It is 
 in a kind of cell or chamber, — plain black marble, 
 unadorned. I had thought, and I have for these 
 twenty years, that the inscription on his tomb was, 
 ;| Hie Cineres ubique Fnma ;" but 1 did not find any 
 
226 POTSDAM. 
 
 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 ances- 
 tral dignity, the military renown of Prussia, centre 
 in his name. 
 
 Sans Souci is a strange name for a palace ; yet 
 here, whatever freedom from care Frederick could 
 know he enjoyed. It is a most sensible building, 
 combining the comforts of a private dwelling, and the 
 magnificent appendages of a royal residence. Noth- 
 ing can be more quiet, more simple, indeed, even to 
 a tastleless plainness, than the apartments of the 
 king. Nothing can be more luxurious than the 
 splendid 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 ; and he was within sound of the parade- 
 horn, a circumstance as important to him as to the 
 youngest 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 ! 1 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 benefactor. 
 
 The anecdotes of his private life have a great 
 
POTSDAM. 
 
 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 inclina- 
 tion. He had a quick and restless mind, which fret- 
 ted with impatience under a want of occupation ; 
 and hence these methodical divisions of his day, and 
 his hurrying from business to amusements, which 
 were pursued with the like eagerness for the allot- 
 ted 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 never again been 
 w r ound up since the hour of his death. 
 
 No traveller fails to visit the chamber appropri- 
 ated to Voltaire, while he resided with the King. 
 It is remote, that is, nearly at the extremity of the 
 building, and furnished in the commonest French 
 taste of that day, — a strange mixture of tawdriness 
 and meanness. Voltaire is one of those great ge- 
 niuses, 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 character 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. 
 18* 
 
^25 BERLIN. 
 
 His Gallery of Paintings was a noble one. There 
 are so many ways of choosing, enjoying, and speak- 
 ing about paintings, that we must understand what 
 the possessor's peculiar taste was, before we give 
 him the credit of the collection.' The Vertumnus 
 and Pomona of Leonardo da Vinci, the u Ecce Ho- 
 mo" 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 
 subject as in style, than these three paintings. For 
 my own part, I confess that I gazed with much high- 
 er satisfaction on some of the wonderful conceptions 
 of Rubens, and some of the very hallowed and pure 
 productions of Vandyke. The Isaac blessing Jacob 
 of this last painter is a perfect picture ; and there is 
 a pendant to it by an artist, whose name has drop- 
 ped out of my mind, of Isaac blessing Esau, of 
 which the affecting expression is such that the quick 
 judgment of the heart at once pronounces it a trea- 
 sure. The new palace is a fine building, and exact- 
 ly adapted for summer fetes. I cannot myself admire 
 the hall, the walls of which are encrusted with spars 
 and crystals. This strange mosaic is to me intolera- 
 ble by the light of day, in a spacious and lofty sa- 
 loon ; it suits only with the shaded grotto, hollowed 
 beneath the rock. The apartments are richly fur- 
 nished, — and it is altogether a princely pleasure- 
 house. 
 
 It is only four German miles from Potsdam to Ber- 
 lin. I drove through long, strait, uniform streets, 
 intersected at right angles by others of like appear- 
 ance. I crossed some portion of the city that had 
 rather a graver and oider (but never ancient) 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 capi- 
 
BERLIN. 229 
 
 fed. The Brandenburgh gate, by which this fine 
 street is entered from the west, is a very grand ob- 
 ject ; it is an imitation of the Propylaeum of Athens, 
 and is surmounted by a triumphal car, drawn by four 
 spirited horses, the Goddess of Victory standing 
 erect in the chariot, and displaying 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 quar- 
 ter of Berlin is called, from the size and beauty of 
 the former, Unter den Linden. Near this I sojourn- 
 ed, 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 ex- 
 pect to see splendid equipages rolling by in constant 
 succession, and the wide space divided between ra- 
 pid 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 magnifi- 
 cent 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 pro- 
 menade, on the road to Charlottenburgh, perhaps a 
 dozen or twenty private carriages may, at long dis- 
 tances and intervals, be seen. The vehicles for the 
 conveyance 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, hav- 
 ing that high wooden collar which belongs, in your 
 fancy, to the sledge of St. Petersburgh. Such are 
 the more frequently passing objects in this street of 
 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 
 
I 
 
 230 BERLIN. 
 
 drivers of these sorry conveyances are all neatly 
 dressed in a livery of* grey, with hats surmounted 
 by the cockade, and are altogether far more cleanly 
 and respectable in their appearance than the hack- 
 ney-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 ob- 
 servation 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 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, per- 
 haps, 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 frenchified his 
 good subjects, had it been possible : they were re- 
 luctant, 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 Frederick had but liffhtlv 
 
BERLIN. 231 
 
 engraven on the mind of his subjects. They lay 
 breathless for the opportune moment to declare 
 themselves true Germans ; and they nobly triumph- 
 ed. They are now animated by a haughty, I should 
 almost say a vain, spirit: but it is not like what we 
 should call patriotism. I should say that every 
 Prussian feels a sort of esprit de corps : they drink 
 the anniversary of victories ; and they forget that 
 they ever have been vanquished. It was impossi- 
 ble to suppress a smile, in walking through the mag- 
 nificent 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. How- 
 ever, 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 un- 
 knightly as in his mean and offensive conduct to her 
 patriot queen. 
 
 One effect of this spirit among the Prussians is, 
 that, although French is universally read and spoken 
 by all their educated men, they have entirely dis- 
 carded the use of it in conversation, and can with 
 difficulty be induced to speak it, even where com- 
 mon courtesy to the foreigner might excuse their 
 departure from a resolution, the maintaining of 
 which they seem to identify both with personal and 
 national dignity. It requires a little manoeuvre 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 u 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 
 
232 BERLIN. 
 
 people, and all those whom I should feel most de- 
 sirous to become acquainted with doubtless converse 
 fluently in the French language." This made pro- 
 vokingly short, or politely and flatteringly lengthen- 
 ed, according to the party, invariably drew them 
 out : the foreheads rose, the very mustaches relax- 
 ed 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 com- 
 mand of language. 
 
 I only remained six days in Berlin. All things 
 which the traveller is directed to, as worthy his at- 
 tention, I visited. The palace, the arsenal, the 
 museum, and a fine collection of pictures,* which 
 have not yet been conveniently placed, but are to 
 be disposed in a handsome building preparing 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. 1 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, 1 boldly pro- 
 nounce 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 
 
 * Among these, the Marriage of St. Katharine, by Julio Ro- 
 mano, is, to my taste, a most exquisite production. 
 
BERLIN. 233 
 
 whether the actor is true. The new theatre, which 
 is smaller, is very elegant and commodious. In ano- 
 ther theatre, also a very good sized and convenient 
 one, I was present at the performance of Cenerento- 
 la. The house was crowded to excess, and the or- 
 chestra 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 equi- 
 pages may sound inconsistent with what I have be- 
 fore said, but, as I stood near the door, I was ena- 
 bled to see that these were, for the most part, hired 
 carriages, and that there were not thirty of that 
 class, which belong to the regular establishment of 
 a nobleman or man of fortune. I was most particu- 
 larly pleased in the great theatre, on two occasions, 
 to observe the quiet, attentive, and unostentatious 
 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 forms ; forms, I think, desirable to be kept 
 up, and which it is, perhaps, to be regretted that 
 the King himself so indolently evades : he was pre- 
 sent 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 recom- 
 mence, they came forward quietly to their seats, 
 and gave it their full attention : their aide-de-camps 
 sat very considerably behind them, and near the 
 wall stood several of the royal domestics. A prince 
 ^f blood royal, especially in a despotic government. 
 
234 BERLIN. 
 
 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." — u Oh," said the other, u he 
 has been promoted since the last review ; and 1 as- 
 sure you, that he is a good promising young officer, 
 and understands his duty in the field." — u I dare to 
 say he is quite happy now," rejoined the other, look- 
 ing back at him with evident satisfaction. There 
 was a something strange to the English ear in the 
 importance attached to his military rank, as if prince 
 went for nothing 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 uni- 
 forms, and soldiers in all places, and at all hours, 
 Berlin has the air of a capital occupied by some 
 well-behaved foreign force, and cheerful and pro- 
 tected under their strict discipline. 
 
 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-tail- 
 ed black horses, as they wind down through the 
 green avenue of the Park, and afterwards, as, when 
 relieved, the old guard rides calmly along Whitehall, 
 and up Regent-Street. There is nothing like our 
 Life or Horse Guards to be seen in any capital in 
 
BERLIN. 235 
 
 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 emergency : men so 
 formed and considered will never, never disappoint 
 the expectation entertained of them. Look only to 
 the Life Guards at Waterloo ; men who had, literal- 
 ly, passed their lives 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 appointments 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 soldierly-look- 
 ing young men, coming down Pali-Mall, and the 
 sentinels were relieving : out of the whole relief, 
 except the corporal, there was not one fine, smart- 
 looking soldier. 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 grenadiers 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 alwavs in the Dublin garrison, For cleanliness. 
 19 
 
23tS BERLIN. 
 
 handling of the firelocks, carnage, 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-commissioned officer, or are left to stand sentry by 
 themselves, with no reproving eye on them, they cease 
 to look like 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 displaying his person 
 to advantage, and evidencing 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 com- 
 mon people in England, even to the children, so 
 much delight in as the lowering and laughing at all 
 display of pride in a common soldier : they have 
 many a saying, and many a trick to provoke him 
 with. I have often, from a window, seen and smil- 
 ed at this kind of thing. " Heads up, soldier!" ut- 
 tered by a little ragged urchin of a chimney-sweep- 
 er, 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 difficult to explain this to a foreigner, and make 
 him enter into it : but there is not a British soldier. 
 
BERLHV 2M 
 
 from the Duke of York to the young drum-boy, who 
 is not aware of the thing, and the mass of the com- 
 mon 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 re- 
 pent of a system, which seems to me ill calculated 
 to form 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 di- 
 verting to contrast the present military 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 sta- 
 tues of the great officers of her more celebrated 
 times. There are enough in Wilhelmsplatz alone 
 to form a council of war, and chief among them old 
 Ziethen, whom I thank the sculptor for having re- 
 presented in the uniform of the old black hussars. 
 There the old bo}' stands ready to mount his horse, 
 and just as he may have looked after the brilliant ac- 
 tion of Tein,* when the Prussian army, dispirited by 
 long toils, rushed from their tents, shouting, " Long- 
 live Ziethen and his hussars !" The hussar uniform 
 
 • By which he delivered the rear of the Prussian army on 
 their precipitate retreat from Bohemia in the disastrous cam 
 naisn of 1744. 
 
238 BERLIN. 
 
 (excepting the long shapeless 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 buttoned 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, degenerate, 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 suppli- 
 ed and most frequented. 1 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, containing a 
 dozen, shows a feeling towards England and English 
 literature, which, instead of ourrece«\ing haughtily 
 as a tribute, 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 acquaintance 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 
 
BERLIN 239 
 
 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 it is, 1 think, 
 which does so revolt our English university-men 
 when they first come in contact with German scho- 
 lars. 
 
 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 de- 
 ceived, I think who should judge of the private life 
 of Germans from that peculiar class of persons, 
 which form, as it were, a race of themselves, and 
 are found floating on the surface of society all over 
 that extensive country. There are, then, in Ger- 
 many, 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 inter- 
 course 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 occupations, to put on the coats 
 without the characters of gentlemen, and who live 
 loosely about, at hotels and restaurateurs, where 
 they are little known as to early history, and wel- 
 come for what they spend. Connected with such 
 classes, and no less with the common wants and ne- 
 cessary evils of large cities, is all that unhappy 
 rrowd of fair and frail beauties, which is to be found. 
 19* 
 
240 BERLIN. 
 
 most certainly, as largely scattered about the city of 
 Berlin as Vienna. This a Prussian, who knew both 
 capitals well, owned to me, and stated that he re- 
 membered the time when Berlin was most notori- 
 ous, as a theatre of dissipation, throughout all Eu- 
 rope. He attributed it, in a great measure, to the 
 then frequent presence of large numbers of the Rus- 
 sian and Polish nobles, who used to pass their win- 
 ters in Berlin, by their example, and the wealth 
 they expended, 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 
 indulgence. 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 Viennese for is that they are so igno- 
 rant and contented, so fond of good eating and drink- 
 ing, and so indifferent to the cultivation of their 
 minds." I am, in neither instance, for one minute 
 supposing or alluding 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 pre- 
 vious criminality; and however it may be regretted 
 that the marriage-tie is so dangerously light, yet be- 
 ing so by the institutions of the country, all unhappy 
 marriages are made public by the act of the dissolu- 
 tion. I detest the system heartily ; and may the 
 marriage-vow in Old England ever run in that noble 
 and affecting strain, u For better for worse, for rich- 
 er for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death 
 do part/* 
 
BERLIN. 241 
 
 There is a woman's grave near Berlin, which all 
 travellers do fondly and reverently visit. None 
 needs to be informed of the life, the fortunes, and 
 the fate of the late and beloved Queen of Prussia, — 
 beloved, not only by a devoted husband, but 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 ne- 
 ver 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, corroded the inward principle of 
 life, stole the bloom from her youthful cheek, the 
 light from her fair eyes, bowed down her beautiful 
 form, broke her young heart, and laid her in the 
 tomb. 
 
 This tomb is in the garden of Charlottenburgh. 
 Acquainted with it by no previous description, I left 
 the palace of Charlottenburgh, and walked down the 
 garden alone, the person in attendance having point- 
 ed out the direction, and promising to follow with the 
 key. It was not without surprise that I came sud- 
 denly, among trees, upon a fair white Doric temple. 
 I might, and should, have deemed it a mere adorn- 
 ment of the grounds, — a spot sacred to silence, or 
 the soft-breathed song ; but the cypress and the wil- 
 low declare it as a habitation of the dead. There 
 was an aged invalid busily occupied about the por- 
 tal, in sweeping away the dead and yellow leaves, 
 which gathered there, and which the November 
 blast, in mockery of his vain labour, drove back 
 upon it, in larger and louder eddies. He shook his 
 grey head at me, and, not seeing any body with me, 
 warned me petulantly away. Nay, when the guar- 
 
242 BERLIN. 
 
 dian came, it might be fancy, but he seemed ill pleas- 
 ed 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 wind- 
 ing-sheet, to show a beloved corse, when the person 
 with me reverently turned it back, and displayed the 
 statue of his queen. It is a portrait-statue recum- 
 bent, 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 expres- 
 sion of her features. The hands are folded on the 
 bosom ; the limbs are sufficiently crossed to show the 
 repose of life. She does but sleep, — she scarce 
 sleeps ; — her mind and heart are on her sweet lips. 
 It is the work of Rauch, and the sculptor may, in- 
 deed, 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 garlands at her grave. 
 These hang in withered mournfulness above this liv- 
 ing 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. 1 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 preserv- 
 ed, and the general execution, nature : the fillet 
 round the temples, the cheeks slightly collapsed, and 
 
BERLIN. 
 
 ihe limbs stretched out in the stony rigidity of death, 
 have a most affecting and sublime character. 
 
 As soon as we had left the temple, the old man, 
 fobbing his disregarded fee vyithout looking at it, re- 
 turned to his strange and useless task, with all that 
 wasted diligence which often marks the activity of 
 the second childhood ; and as 1 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 win- 
 ter 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 scep- 
 tre of domestic rule, the poker; and you are glad, at 
 least I was, to hasten home. 
 
 I have never in my life traversed so 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 picture of the 
 country would partake the gloom. It is a jour- 
 ney 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 
 
244 HAMBURGH. 
 
 journeying on the dromedary. The houses of call 
 are wretched. At one of them, in a wild sandy spot, 
 among forests of fir, i heard the sound of music, and 
 looking in, through a cloud of smoke in a small mi- 
 serable apartment, so hot, that 1 could not remain 
 five minutes, 1 found a collection of figures, cast in 
 nature'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 1 should have left Ger- 
 many without being jolted over this execrable road, 
 or without having some of my bright and soft recol- 
 lections of the German waltz corrected, or rather 
 disturbed 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 en- 
 tered Hamburgh, and the very first question 1 asked 
 when I got out of the carriage, was, w Is there a 
 packet at Cuxhaven, and when does she sail for Eng- 
 land ?" That evening I dropped down the river in 
 a Hamburgh boat ; the next morning 1 was sailing 
 past f 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. 
 
 The conclusion of this light volume must, I feel, 
 be that in which nothing is concluded. I was desi- 
 rous of seeing Germany 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 reflec- 
 tions, which the scenes I looked upon suggested to 
 my mind. Germany had long been, to my fancy, the 
 
CONCLUSION. 
 
 region of romance ; her warrior population, and her 
 fair-eyed women, had filled up many a picture, paint- 
 ed by the mind's pencil in her musing hours. I had 
 already seen all her armies in review arrav ; I want- 
 ed to see them scattered about their native country 
 in such groups and occupations as belong to peace. 
 
 1 wanted to look upon those women of Germany, 
 to whose lot it has not unfrequently fallen to conceal 
 to-day a vanquished friend, to receive to-morrow a 
 victorious foe ; — to succour the wounded of all par- 
 ties ; to have her heart assailed, as woman, in a 
 thousand ways, and to be placed in situations, where 
 love could only breed despair. 
 
 I wanted to see those German youths, who, in the 
 strange and frequent changes of alliance in their dis- 
 tracted country, found the tie of private friendship 
 suddenly broken 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 involuntary groups of lis- 
 teners during the short sojourn ; — these, and such 
 like, were my trifling objects, and, perhaps, it was 
 not altogether without a secret wish to gather mate- 
 rials of scenery and of portraits which might give 
 truth and interest to some proposed 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 
 
246 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. 
 

IT 
 
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