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A UTHOR : 
 
 GLEIG, G. R. 
 (GEORGE ROBERT) 
 
 TITLE: 
 
 GERMANY, BOHEMIA, 
 AND HUNGARY,... 
 
 PLACE: 
 
 LONDON 
 
 DA TE : 
 
 1839 
 
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 Gleig, G^eorgej R^obert] 1 796-1888. 
 
 Germany, Bohemia, and Hungary, visited in 1837. By 
 the Rev. G. R. Gleig ... Loncjon, J. W. Parker, 1839. 
 
 3 V. 20»». 
 
 Subject entries: 1. Qermany— Descr. & trav. 
 trav. 3. IIungary—Descr. & trav. 
 
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 Beside the main topic this book also treats of 
 Subject No. On page Subject No.^- On page 
 
 ■ K'-V^f 
 
 { 
 
 -jA 
 

 GERMANY, 
 
 BOHEMIA, AND HUNGARY, 
 
 Visited in 1837. 
 
 BY 
 
 THE REV. G. R.' GLEIG, M.A., 
 
 CHAPLAIN TO THE ROYAL HOSPITAL, 
 CHELSEA. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. , 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 JOHN W. PARKER, WEST STRAND. 
 
 M.DCCC.XXXIX. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 1^ 
 
 rv^ 
 
 
 
 The following volumes tell their own tale, 
 and^ except in reference to one or two points, 
 hardly require that a sentence should be 
 written in explanation of them. I am aware, 
 for example, that in the circumstances which 
 induced me to undertake a scheme of foreign 
 travel, the public is very little likely to take 
 an interest. Yet it is due to myself, to state, 
 that I went abroad, not through any love 
 of change, far less because I was tired of 
 my home, or of the duties attached to it ; but 
 because my medical attendants assured me» 
 that unless I withdrew for a season from 
 labours under which my constitution had 
 greatly suffered, they could not be answer- 
 able for the consequences. I proceeded, 
 therefore, to the Continent, in search of 
 health, and I thank God that I found it. 
 
 63308 
 
 a2 
 
 \ 
 
 'A 
 
IV 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 But though the nature of the motives which 
 lead an individual to pursue any given line of 
 conduct, be a subject of interest to himself 
 alone, the public have a perfect right to re- 
 quire from him competent reasons for the 
 adoption of such sentiments as he may judge 
 it expedient to express relative to the state of 
 society in places which he has undertaken to 
 describe. I freely acknowledge this right, 
 in the abstract, and will not, I trust be found 
 practically to have contradicted it. My work 
 speaks for itself; so that I need not enter here 
 into a lengthened discussion of points which 
 have received their full share of attention else- 
 where. I shall merely repeat, therefore, that if 
 the views which I have taken of the moral and 
 religious condition of Germany be erroneous, 
 the fault has been committed, not only 
 through no prejudice against the German 
 character, but in opposition to prejudices 
 which ran strongly in its favour. 
 
 The truth, however, is — and the theological 
 treatises which issue daily from the German 
 press, may satisfy the most incredulous on 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. V 
 
 that head — that a sober and enlightened piety, 
 a firm and conscientious and humble belief in 
 the religion of the Gospel, as it was once de- 
 livered to the saints, is scarcely professed by 
 any influential portion of the German com- 
 munity. In the Catholic countries, you find, 
 indeed, some show of respect for the forms of 
 the Church ; while Catholic divines are, for 
 obvious reasons, less prone to theorize on 
 points of doctrine than Protestants. But 
 even in Catholic countries, the cloven-foot 
 of scepticism is for ever thrusting itself from 
 beneath the priest's robe ; while among the 
 Protestants, to believe God's word as it is 
 written, forms the exception to the general 
 rule which Rationalism has established. 
 
 I have ventured to describe all this when 
 referring to the state of morals and religion in 
 Prussia, and endeavoured to show, that a 
 denial of the vital principles of the Gospel 
 necessarily produces extreme laxity in the 
 moral conduct. Let it not be supposed that 
 my remarks apply exclusively to the kingdom 
 of Prussia. The following extract from one 
 
VI 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Vll 
 
 
 of the most influential periodicals of the day, 
 will show, that every where, throughout Ger- 
 many, the same melancholy spirit prevails; 
 and that they who take the lead in the direc- 
 tion of public opinion, are not ashamed to 
 avow their subjection to it. 
 
 " Christianity with us," says the able writer, 
 " seems to stand pretty much in the position 
 of heathenism in the days of Hadrian. As 
 foreign gods were in those days eagerly adopted 
 from all parts of the world, and the count- 
 less population of Rome ran after the wor- 
 ship of Egyptian and Syrian idols in rivalry ; 
 as the learned found amusement in accom- 
 modating their several systems to whatever 
 system of philosophy might chance to be in 
 fashion, — so the Christians of Germany now 
 hover in uncertainty about every different 
 confession of religion that occurs; and gene- 
 rally end without adhering to any. Tlie Ca- 
 tholics take the lead in the progress of 
 modem enlightenment, and become as sober 
 and rational as Protestants ; the Protestants 
 begin to apprehend that they have gone 
 
 too far, and distrusting the right of private 
 judgment, publicly coquet with Catholic 
 opinions and Catholic forms. The differences 
 between Lutheran and Reformed, are no 
 more mentioned. A swarm of poets and 
 philosophers from Northern Germany, Pro- 
 testants by lineage, having made a pilgrimage 
 into the Catholic world, become there the 
 most unbending of Ultramontanists ; and 
 lead the crusade against their foi-mer bre- 
 thren. While among the Catholics an Anti- 
 celibatist party has arisen, between whom 
 and the Protestants there exists no essential 
 difference. Then we have fashionable philo- 
 sophies, succeeding one another, or existing 
 together in perfect harmony; and all so 
 flexible, that they can in turn be adapted to 
 the favourite religious creed of the hour, just 
 as easily as they can be made instruments 
 each for the erection of its own religion. And 
 in the midst of all this confusion, the mass of 
 the people are content to rest in indifference, 
 wisely concluding that where one thing is as 
 good as another, it is best to abide by the 
 
Vlll 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 IX 
 
 I 
 
 ,1 
 
 I 
 
 religion of their fathers." — Literatur Blatt, 
 Nov. 7, 1836. 
 
 I could quote many passages from others^of 
 the literary journals, all of them illustrative 
 of a similar conviction on the part of the 
 writers ; but why should I ? The contro- 
 versies M^hich have raged in Germany ever 
 since the appearance of Strauss's Life of 
 Jesus, abundantly bear me out in the views 
 which I have taken ; for even those who 
 object to the author's doctrines, are loud in 
 praise of his ingenuity; while not a few ground 
 their objections to his book, rather on the 
 method which he has adopted of enforcing 
 and illustrating his opinions, than on the 
 fatal results to which these opinions neces- 
 sarily lead. 
 
 Again, I have spoken of the Protestant 
 clergy, both in Prussia and Saxony, as of a 
 body of men,^ who exercise no influence, or 
 next to none, over the moral tone of society. 
 Let it be observed, that my reference is to 
 the order, not to individuals belonging to that 
 order. A clergyman, distinguished for his 
 
 talents and scholarship, commands in Ger- 
 many, as much respect as if he were a lay- 
 mc\n: but he commands no more, and the 
 respect is paid, not to his profession, but to 
 his learning. And it is in Germany, as it 
 must ever be in England, and elsewhere, that 
 clergymen so distinguished, bear but a very 
 small proportion to the numbers who have 
 acquired no such distinction. It would be 
 idle, therefore, to meet my reasoning with a 
 parade of six, or eight, or a dozen names, 
 with which all Germany is familiar, and of 
 which I at once acknowledge the eminence. 
 My answer is, I give you all which you have 
 a right to demand, yet hold my own ground: 
 because I can set against your twelve, twelve 
 hundred of whom the world knows nothing ; 
 who spend their lives on their rural bene- 
 fices, after the fashion of him whose menage 
 I have described, and having effected no 
 good, or next to nonr in their generation, 
 die, and are forgotten. Is it wise in the civil 
 government of a country to leave its clergy 
 in this state ? 
 
 I 
 
 % 
 
I 
 
 il 
 
 t 
 
 X ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 When I was in Prussia, the difference 
 between the King and the Archbishop of 
 Cologne had not yet begun to attract general 
 attention. I think that the case in question 
 will hardly be adduced as contradicting my 
 theory. It is very well to say, that the King 
 committed an error when he endeavoured to 
 violate rights which he had previously ac- 
 knowledged. This maybe true, but it is not 
 in this that we must look for the root of the 
 evil. The grand error has been in dealing 
 with the Church of Rome at all, otherwise 
 than in a spirit of wise toleration. For all 
 experience proves, that the Roman Catholic 
 religion, though an admirable engine of 
 government, in the hands of a Roman Ca- 
 tholic ruler, never has been, and never can 
 be, without imminent peril, placed by a ruler 
 who is not Roman Catholic, on a footing of 
 independence towards himself. It is the 
 very genius of Popery that it shall not stop 
 short of universal dominion ; and for this it 
 is not to be blamed ; seeing that one of the 
 leading tenets in the creed of Rome is, that 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 XI 
 
 there can be no salvation beyond the pale of 
 
 the Church. 
 
 I do not know that there is any other topic 
 on which it will be necesary to touch. I 
 have spoken of the Austrian government as 
 I found it ; and of the feelings of the people 
 in Bohemia and Hungary, as they were ex- 
 pressed unreservedly to myself. It is for 
 others to determine whether or not I have 
 employed the language of moderation and 
 impartiality. But of one thing I am quite 
 certain, that in his dealings with the church, 
 as well as with the sectaries which have 
 branched off from it, the policy of Prince 
 Metternich is controlled by marvellous saga- 
 city. There is slender risk of the occurrence 
 in Austria, so long as he shall preside over its 
 destinies, of any such collision between the 
 civil and ecclesiastical authorities as that 
 by which Prussia is now disturbed. 
 
 Finally, I have to entreat my reader's pardon 
 for the many and gross typographical blun- 
 ders which disfigure these pages. Circum- 
 stances induced me to intrust the correction 
 
/*' 
 
 Xii ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 of the proofs to a hand different from my 
 own, while the first volume, and a large part 
 of the second, were going through the press, 
 and the consequences have been, such a long 
 list of errata, as I blush to see. But as these . 
 errors affect only the spelling of proper 
 names, by the general reader they will 
 hardly be felt as an incumbrance ; and for 
 the rest, as they make absolute nonsense of 
 the passages where they occur, I must bow 
 ynth submission even if they be charged upon 
 my own ignorance. 
 
 -r^ 
 
 \ 
 
 I 
 
 [V 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 OF 
 
 THE FIRST VOLUME 
 
 Chapter I. 
 
 Page 
 
 Embarkation— Voyage— Ascent of the Elbe— Ham- 
 burg— Its General Appearance — Habits o£ the 
 People— The Exchange— Table d'Hote— General 
 Observations - . - 
 
 Chapter II. 
 
 Quit Hamburg— General Appearance of the Country 
 — Mecklenburg-Schwerin — Bautzenburg —The 
 Palace of Ludwigslust— Komer's Monument— 
 Grobow— Cross the Prussian Frontier— Remark- 
 able Contrast between the Two Countries— 
 Spandau: its Fortifications, State Prison, 
 Church, and Crypts— The Palace of Chariotten- 
 lyiircr — Approach to Berlin - - - 
 
 Chapter III. 
 
 First View of Berlin— The Public Buildings— The 
 Squares— The Palace, Museum, Picture Gallery 
 —The Government of Prussia — Administration of 
 the Laws— Military System— Commercial League 61 
 
 - 36 
 
XIV 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter IV. 
 
 Kcligion ana Morals-State of the Church-System 
 of National Education - - " " 
 
 Page 
 
 97 
 
 !■■ I 
 
 Chapter V. 
 
 Potsdam -The Palace -Garrison Church -Sans- 
 Souci-Saxouy-The Palace of Montzburg- 
 First View of Dresden - - - " " 
 
 Chapter VI. 
 
 Dresden-Its Buildings, Streets, and Exhj^i^o^^-- 
 State of Society— The Revolution of 1830— Us 
 Results-Domestic Habits -Music -Morals- 
 The Church— Commercial Spirit - - - 173 
 
 Chapter VII. 
 Saxon Switzerland-Pilnitz-Hohenstein-Schandau 
 -Residence there-Manners of the People-The 
 Public Garden»-Games-Absence of Religious 
 FeeUng— Agriculture— National Pecuhanties— 
 Form of Worship, and Administration of the 
 Sacrament --"""' 
 
 Chapter VIII. 
 
 Excursions to the Kuhstall-Thc Bastei-Lilien- 
 stein-The Schramstein— Legends connected with 
 
 - 247 
 
 these Places - - - - 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 XV 
 
 Chapter IX. 
 
 Page 
 
 Change of System in Travel— Set out on Foot 
 through the Bohemian Mountains— Hirniskret- 
 schen-The Parish Priest-His Style of Living- 
 He becomes our Guide— His Conversation— The 
 Ancient Constitution of Bohemiar^Discontent 
 at its Abolition— Existing State of Things- 
 Slender Influence of the Pope— Auffenberg— 
 The Parsonage— The Curate and his Party- 
 Beautiful Scenery— Tetschen • . - 272 
 
I 
 
 GERMANY, BOHEMIA, and HUNGARY, 
 
 Page 30, 
 40 
 S4 
 129 
 130 
 162 
 208 
 216 
 
 line 
 »» 
 It 
 f* 
 t> 
 >* 
 »» 
 • » 
 
 247, and 
 
 266, 
 274 
 
 S78 
 
 t» 
 
 280, 
 284 
 
 ,» 
 
 »» 
 
 ,, 
 and 
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 15. for Schlou minfidd, read Schlm Hain/eld. 
 15, from bottom./c/r had been, read has been. 
 
 15, dele na, ,, . ,. 
 
 3 /or Wegschneider, read Wegscheider. 
 5 from bottom./or Wolf. rea«f Wolff. 
 
 5 /or indulged in in this, read Indulged m this. 
 
 15; Z LToruTt^tS-yard, reo. loo. out upon the couH- 
 
 wherever^lse the words oecur, /or Leinienstein and Outwalder 
 Grund, read Lilienstein and Ottowalder Grund. 
 
 4 from bottom, /or of the Bastei. read from the Bastei. 
 
 ^!T.Tr:.':ZZ'JoTJ^,M Hiesengebirgen. rea. 
 Riesengebirgo. 
 8, /or changes, read chances. o^i,„^ Vnnne 
 
 2 from bottom, /or Schnee Kupper. rea^l Schncc Koppe. 
 
 Himiskretschen. 
 
 VOL. n. 
 
 Page 2, line 11,/or gokocht, rearf gckocht. 
 
 „ „ la./orgrebraten.readgebijten^^ ^^^^„„^^^^ 
 
 15. last -^^^-iZ^^S^^^^^V^^^ 
 
 Tt east read though it inflict a temporary wound on men s 
 ^ll^lov;. by questioning their powers of discrimination, 
 
 it leaves. ^ ,. . „ 
 
 H, /or the subordinates, r^rf their subordinates. 
 
 11, /or nestling back, read nestling beneath. 
 5, /or he sets the free, read he sets thee free. 
 
 lU/or Peter of Prague, read Jerome of 1 rague. 
 9, /or groved reatZ grooved. 
 
 25 
 31 
 
 50 
 
 54 
 
 156 
 
 »» 
 
 f. 
 
 IN 1837. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 EMBARKATION. VOYAGE. ASCENT OF THE ELBE. HAM- 
 BURG. ITS GENERAL APPEARANCE. HABITS OF THE 
 
 PEOPLE.— THE EXCHANGE.— TABLE d'hoTE. GENERAL 
 
 OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 On the last day of March, 1837, between the 
 hours of ten and eleven o'clock at night, I 
 embarked with my family on board of a steam- 
 boat, which lay at her moorings beside the 
 Custom-House wharf, and was to sail at an 
 early hour on the following morning, for Ham- 
 burg. Our heavy baggage having been shipped 
 betimes, and other necessary preparations made, 
 the business of adapting ourselves to the cir- 
 cumstances then around us, was neither a 
 tedious nor a troublesome one. The children 
 went at once to bed, — their mother soon fol- 
 lowed their example, — the servants disposed of 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 B 
 

 2 VOYAGE 
 
 themselves, I do not know how,-and Mr. 
 Stewart, my son's excellent tutor, walked the 
 deck with me, so long as the objects near 
 supplied food for admiration, or we found in 
 our own converse, matter to interest and amuse. 
 When the former, including a thousand glau- 
 cing lights from the shore, the occasional pas- 
 sagt of a vessel through the forest of masts 
 that hemmed us in, and the bright twinkle of 
 a milli9n of stars over-head, began to pall, and 
 the latter, wearing itself out, flagged and grew 
 dull, we likewise turned our steps towards the 
 companion stair, and creeping into our berths, 
 were soon as indifferent to the world, as if we 
 had ceased to be, in any sense of the term, 
 actors upon its stage. 
 
 A voyage from London to Hamburj is 
 scarcely that which any scribbler, however 
 determined, would in this age pause to describe. 
 We experienced the usual alternations of con- 
 venience and discomfort,— the former arising 
 from a well-kept table and obliging attendants, 
 the latter occasioned by a stiff breeze from the 
 north-east, of all the winds that blow, to fresh- 
 water sailors the least agreeable. Our fellow 
 
 ■« 
 
 TO HAMBURG. O 
 
 passengers, likewise, were as kind and accom- 
 modating as in such a situation we had a right 
 to expect, and comprehended one, at least, 
 from almost every nation under heaven, between 
 the latitudes of North Cape and the Bay of 
 Naples. There were, besides English, Scotch, 
 and Irish, a Dane, a Russian, two Swedes, a 
 citizen of Hamburg, a Mecklenburger, a Prus- 
 sian, a merchant of Venice, and a Neapolitan. 
 These, associating familiarly together in one 
 small cabin, and often conyersing by pairs in 
 half a dozen different languages at the same 
 time, made such of my party as had not pre- 
 viously visited the Continent, aware that a new 
 scene in the great drama of life had opened 
 upon them. Neither must I forget Ishmael 
 Schlevakey, the Polish Jew and smuggler, who, 
 after an exile of several years, was returning to 
 the land of his birth, not without some mis- 
 givings as to the truth of a report which had 
 reached him, that for such transgressions as 
 his a general amnesty had been proclaimed. 
 Ishmael was a filthy, squalid creature, with a 
 long, shaggy beard, and a sheep-skin cloak ; and 
 as he either could not or would not afford to 
 
 B 2 
 
^ ^ , -jJT'*: «JQ5iBfcM 
 
 [ 
 
 }i 
 
 11 
 
 4 ISHMAEL SCHLEVAKEY. 
 
 pay for a place in the cabin, he sat shivering 
 day and night under the lee of the chimney. 
 
 I do not know that I ever beheld a better 
 subject than this Jew for the pencil of one who 
 xnicrht wish to delineate on canvass old Isaac of 
 Yo°rk, as the pen of the mighty magician has 
 described him. There was the same small, 
 twinkling, dark eye, of which Sir Walter 
 speaks, as turning hither and thither perpetually. 
 There was the low and crouching figure, the 
 fawning manner, the eagerness to appear satis- 
 fied, the undisguised alarm, as often as allusion 
 was made to the probable contents of a box 
 which was never for a moment permitted to 
 pass beyond his reach,-all these brought back 
 to my recollection the graphic sketch of the 
 Jew, as he is first introduced to the reader's 
 acquaintance in the hall of Cedric. 
 
 Moreover, Ishmael, like Isaac, had his better 
 points about him, which were the more striking, 
 because of the contrast which they presented 
 to what may be called the staple of his nature. 
 He would not purchase the convenience of a 
 bed ; that was too expensive a luxury for him : 
 he preferred the open air, even at night ; and a 
 
 CUXHAVEN. «* 
 
 cold shoulder of mutton, with a loaf of mouldy 
 bread, both of them brought from London, 
 were all the dainties of which he would partake 
 during the passage. Yet he rejected haughtily 
 the offer of pecuniary assistance which one of 
 the passengers, in the overflowing of a generous 
 heart, would have pressed upon him. With 
 what consummate skill has Scott brought for- 
 ward a similar trait in the character of Isaac ! 
 how broad and clear is the line of distinction 
 which he draws between parsimony, however 
 stringent, and absolute meanness. 
 
 For two days and nights the wind blew right 
 a-head, yet we regarded it not. There might 
 be slender consumption of viands in the cabin, 
 but the vessel held her course ; and by an early 
 hour in the morning of the 3rd of April, land 
 was in sight. It proved to be the island of 
 Neuwerk, a sterile spot, scarce raised, as it 
 seemed to me, above the surface of the ocean ; 
 and containing, as far as I could discern, in 
 addition to the light-house, only a single home- 
 stead and a dilapidated redoubt. By-and-by 
 the little town of Cuxhaven made its appear- 
 ance ; and in due time was skirted a stretch of 
 
•t ! 
 
 
 I 
 
 i V 
 
 6 
 
 CUXHAVEN. 
 
 the Hanoverian shore, low and flat, and covered 
 by a sea-dyke. From that moment till the 
 arrival of the ship at her destination, we were 
 never at a loss for amusement. The lordly Elbe 
 was before us; and in watching the objects 
 which on either hand it introduced to us, all 
 thought of discomfort, now happily removed, 
 was laid aside. 
 
 The Elbe, as is well known, though it carry 
 a prodigious body of water into the North Sea, 
 affords but indifferent facilities to navigation, 
 and these limited in their extent. From Cux- 
 haven to Hamburg, for example, the channel is 
 both intricate and narrow, and beyond Hamburg, 
 vessels of heavy burden cannot proceed. Nei- 
 ther may the scenery of its banks compare for 
 a moment with that of our own Thames, the 
 most uniformly beautiful, perhaps, of all Euro- 
 pean rivers. Yet is the scene from Gluckstadt 
 upwards exceedingly agreeable. On the Hano- 
 verian side, to be sure, the stranger sees little 
 else than a wide extent of plain, dotted here 
 and there with churches, and well feathered 
 with trees, chiefly pollarded willows. But the 
 side of Holstein is different. First we have 
 
 ALTONA. « 
 
 Blackanese, a long, straggling village, which, 
 climbing, as it were, up the face of a range of 
 sand-hills, shows to peculiar advantage from 
 amid the groves of pine and birch that over- 
 shadow its roofs. Next, there are villas, gen- 
 tlemen's seats and hamlets without number, the 
 latter built along the margin of the stream, and 
 on a level with its waters ; the former crowning 
 the heights that rise, it may be, a hundred feet 
 or two above. To these succeeds Altona, an 
 old-fashioned and picturesque town ; the Ultima 
 Thule, on this side, of Danish territory, and a 
 place of much apparent life and bustle. And 
 last of all, Hamburg itself, separated from Al- 
 tona only by a creek, with its tall spires, its 
 sharp roofs, its pointed gables, its numerous 
 storehouses, its dwellings, composed partly of 
 brick, partly of timber, its succession of wharfs, 
 and its roadstead crowded with shipping. All 
 these, as one after another they push forward 
 their claims to notice, give to the mind of one 
 who sees them for the first time, ample food 
 for employment, which he relinquishes not with- 
 out a feeling akin to regret, when the splash of 
 
 1} 
 
I! 
 
 \ 
 
 V 
 
 :1 I I*, 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 
 8 
 
 HAMBURG BOATMEN. 
 
 CUSTOM-HOUSE. 
 
 9 
 
 the anchor from the ship's bow gives notice 
 that the voyage is at an end. 
 
 As we ascended the river, we had been struck 
 with certain peculiarities in the working habits, 
 if I may so express myself, of its maritime 
 population. With us, a seaman pulls and 
 hauls, if on board of a man-of-war, to the notes 
 of the boatswain's whistle : if in a merchant- 
 vessel, to the Yo-he-vo of his leader. Here, 
 both sailors and landsmen, animate one another 
 to their tasks, by singing in concert snatches of 
 merry tunes. In like manner, the mode in 
 which the boatmen propel their skiffs, is, on the 
 Elbe, directly at variance with that pursued in 
 England. Our people sit with their faces to 
 the boat's stern, and pull backwards; the 
 northern watermen stand upright, look to the 
 stem, and ply the oar by pushing its handle from 
 them. We found, however, on making trial of 
 their skill, that the Hamburgers were by no 
 means deficient, and that their charges were, at 
 least, as moderate, and their bearing as civil, as 
 those of their brother functionaries in other 
 parts of the world. 
 
 There is some show of custom-house vigilance 
 in the port of Hamburg, but it is not vexatious. 
 A guard-ship lies at anchor in the mouth of 
 the creek, which separates the Danish waters 
 from those of the free town, whence revenue 
 officers board the steamer after she is moored, 
 without, however, paying the slightest attention 
 to the passengers or their baggage. These, on 
 the contrary, are permitted to make their own 
 arrangements with the watermen who surround 
 the vessel, and are transported, unquestioned, 
 to a sort of wooden jetty, on which stands a 
 watch-house ; where their trunks being counted, 
 are delivered over to them again, on payment 
 of a trifling fee, and an assurance that they 
 contain only private baggage. This done, you 
 ascend an oak staircase, at the summit of which 
 a guard of soldiers is stationed, and find your- 
 self at the lower extremity of a steep, narrow 
 street, crowded with porters and droskies that 
 ply for hire. I need not add that the competi- 
 tion for employment is great ; and I know from 
 experience that a trifling disbursement deposits 
 you, with all your chattels, safely and snugly in 
 
 your hotel. 
 
 B 3 
 
10 
 
 HAMBURG. 
 
 THE YONG-FERSTEia. 
 
 11 
 
 Among the trading cities of continental 
 Europe, Hamburg, I believe, holds the first 
 rank. I am quite sure that it stands second to 
 none which I, at least, have visited ; for every- 
 thing in and around the place, is redolent of 
 commerce. Out of the hundred and thirty 
 thousand souls that make up the sum of its 
 population, there are probably not five hundred 
 full-grown men who are not, somehow or 
 another, interested in the exchanges. The 
 higher classes are all to be found from nine in 
 the morning till three in the afternoon in their 
 counting-houses ; the lower orders act towards 
 these magnates in the capacity of domestic 
 servants, or carry their burdens, or fill and 
 empty their warehouses, or navigate their ves- 
 sels. The middle ranks are composed exclu- 
 sively of shopkeepers, clerks, masters of hotels, 
 artisans, ship-captains, and such like. A few 
 professional persons there doubtless are : for a 
 free city could not exist without lawyers to 
 create, and burgomasters to settle disputes ; nor 
 might a population so redundant die in peace 
 unless the physician and apothecary were at 
 hand to hurry forward the consummation. But 
 
 with the exception of these, the parochial 
 clergy, and a handful of troops barely sufficient 
 to furnish the necessary guards, and these very 
 feeble, you are quite safe in assimiing that every 
 person whom you meet, unless like yourself he 
 be a bird of passage, is in some shape or another 
 engaged in trade. The consequences are, first, 
 that the mere traveller will look in vain 
 throughout the city for those resources against 
 ennui which it is the privilege of polished idle- 
 ness, and of it alone, to supply; and, secondly, 
 that unless some strong claim of business or 
 acquaintanceship detain him, he will make his 
 sojourn here as brief as possible. We were 
 not slow in ascertaining that Hamburg could 
 boast neither of choice galleries of paintings, 
 nor of elaborate specimens in architecture or 
 statuary ; yet it would be unjust to deny that 
 we spent there some very agreeable days, 
 though we had certainly no wish to enlarge 
 
 their number. 
 
 The house at which we established ourselves, 
 the Hotel de Russie, stands upon the Yong- 
 fersteig, or Maiden's Walk, a broad avenue, 
 shaded by rows of trees, which skirt the margin 
 
 
12 
 
 THE YONG-FERSTEIG. 
 
 THE BOULEVARDS. 
 
 13 
 
 r I 
 
 of a lake or basin, that is formed by the dam- 
 ming-iip of the river Alster. Thither, in the 
 summer evenings, the elite of the Hamburgers 
 repair, to enjoy in the promenade the luxury of 
 cool breezes, while the surface of the water is 
 covered with gaily painted boats, and the air 
 comes back upon them loaded with the sounds 
 of sweet music. Such, at least, was the tale 
 told to us by our cicerone ; and I dare say the 
 inferences which he drew from it were perfectly 
 just ; but looking at the scene of action on a 
 cold April day, when the snow lay thick under 
 foot, and the trees along the banks were leafless, 
 I confess that it excited in me sensations very 
 different from those with which it was his pur- 
 pose to impress me. There can, I think, be no 
 greater mistake than the introduction of sheets 
 of water into the heart of cities which do not 
 lie under perpetual sunshine. While the dog- 
 days endure, the eye doubtless loves to rest 
 upon the clear and cool surface even of a horse- 
 pond; but who can abstain from shivering 
 while he hurries, wrapped up in his cloak, along 
 the edge of that same pond in the dead of 
 winter? Now, as the winter in Hamburg hap- 
 
 pens to comprise about seven, whilst the summer, 
 and spring, and autumn include barely five 
 months among them, I confess that to me the 
 wisdom and good taste of thus creating a lake 
 in the principal square of the city, appeared to 
 be, in spite of the pride with which the Ham- 
 burgers regard it, exceedingly problematical. 
 It is but fair to add, however, that the buildings 
 which surround the lake, are all creditable to 
 the skill of the architect. Those that face 
 the north, though of older date than the rest, 
 are still exceedingly neat; those on the east and 
 west form the commencement of what may be 
 called a new town, and would do no discredit, 
 in point of regularity, to Berlin itself. 
 
 From the Yong-fersteig you naturally pass to 
 the Boulevards, or ornamental gardens, which, 
 since the termination of the late war, have 
 arisen on the ruins of bastion and tower. It was 
 a wise, as well as a humane arrangement which 
 took away from Hamburg the unenviable dis- 
 tinction of being ranked among the strong-holds 
 of Europe. So long as she retained that ancient 
 but questionable honour, her citizens were liable? 
 as often as their more pugnacious neighbours 
 
12 
 
 THE YONG-FERSTEIG. 
 
 THE BOULEVARDS. 
 
 13 
 
 of a lake or basin, that is formed by the dam- 
 ming-iip of the river Alster. Thither, in the 
 summer evenings, the elite of the Hamburgers 
 repair, to enjoy in the promenade the luxury of 
 cool breezes, while the surface of the water is 
 covered with gaily painted boats, and the air 
 comes back upon them loaded with the sounds 
 of sweet music. Such, at least, was the tale 
 told to us by our cicerone : and I dare say the 
 inferences which he drew from it were perfectly 
 just ; but looking at the scene of action on a 
 cold April day, when the snow lay thick under 
 foot, and the trees along the banks were leafless, 
 I confess that it excited in me sensations very 
 different from those with which it was his pur- 
 pose to impress me. There can, I think, be no 
 greater mistake than the introduction of sheets 
 of water into the heart of cities which do not 
 lie under perpetual sunshine. While the dog- 
 days endure, the eye doubtless loves to rest 
 upon the clear and cool surface even of a horse- 
 pond; but who can abstain from shivering 
 while he hurries, wrapped up in his cloak, along 
 the edge of that same pond in the dead of 
 winter? Now, as the winter in Hamburg hap- 
 
 pens to comprise about seven, whilst the summer, 
 and spring, and autumn include barely five 
 months among them, I confess that to me the 
 wisdom and good taste of thus creating a lake 
 in the principal square of the city, appeared to 
 be, in spite of the pride with which the Ham- 
 burgers regard it, exceedingly problematical. 
 It is but fair to add, however, that the buildings 
 which surround the lake, are all creditable to 
 the skill of the architect. Those that face 
 the north, though of older date than the rest, 
 are still exceedingly neat; those on the east and 
 west form the commencement of what may be 
 called a new town, and would do no discredit, 
 in point of regularity, to Berlin itself. 
 
 From the Yong-fersteig you naturally pass to 
 the Boulevards, or ornamental gardens, which, 
 since the termination of the late war, have 
 arisen on the ruins of bastion and tower. It was 
 a wise, as well as a humane arrangement which 
 took away from Hamburg the unenviable dis- 
 tinction of being ranked among the strong-holds 
 of Europe. So long as she retained that ancient 
 but questionable honour, her citizens were liable? 
 as often as their more pugnacious neighbours 
 
 >. — » « 1. ■ Mit ■ 
 
 ^ •j CJ- ' • 
 
 . _-_-^^_iiS*2^3!fe.'*sfc- 
 
14 
 
 THE BOULEVARDS. 
 
 THB BOULEVAEDS. 
 
 15 
 
 If i 
 
 \\ I 
 
 fell out, to be involved in quarrels with which 
 they might have ho concern. For it is not, I 
 am afraid, the custom of statesmen, any more 
 than of soldiers, to make much account of indi- 
 vidual suffering when aiming at the accomplish- 
 ment of what they are pleased to consider some 
 great public good. Now, however, the excuse 
 of holding a strong position on the navigable 
 Elbe is taken away, and Hamburg, as an open 
 town, may, and probably will, escape visitations, 
 which, so long as she retained her warlike atti- 
 tude, were sure to overtake her. And so it 
 ought to be in ail similar cases. Lar-o and 
 populous places ought never to be fortified; for, 
 in the first place, it rarely happens that such 
 garrisons can be spared for them as shall render 
 effectual their resistance to an enemy who may 
 have conquered in the field; and, in the next 
 place, it never can happen, that the amount of 
 private calamity sustained during a siege shall 
 not more than counterbalance, in a moral point 
 of view at least, the advantages even of success- 
 ful resistance. Hamburg herself sufficiently 
 illustrated this truth during the memorable 
 occurrences of 1813. It is well for her that 
 
 the temptation to illustrate it again has been 
 
 taken away. 
 
 The Boulevards are exceedingly pretty. 
 Along the summit of the ramparts, over the 
 salient angles of the bastions, and downwards 
 through the ditch to the glacis, trees and shrubs 
 are planted; amid which is drawn an endless 
 variety of walks, that, twisting and turning in 
 every direction, terminate here and there in a 
 bower, a rustic seat, or a summer-house. I 
 cannot add that in any direction the view over 
 the surrounding country is fine. Except where 
 the Elbe sweeps by, and Altona's grotesque 
 buildings attract your attention, you look abroad 
 upon a huge plain, badly cultivated, naturally 
 barren, and in many places swampy. Along 
 the course of the Alster, indeed, there seems to 
 be at once a better soil and a more scientific 
 mode of dealing with it; but even there I saw 
 nothing to call forth a very lively admiration. 
 The scene was everywhere bleak, and cold, and 
 
 uninviting. 
 
 It is not, however, on the Boulevards, nor 
 amid the well-proportioned regularity of the 
 New Town, that the stranger must expect to 
 
 »,,.;. 
 
16 
 
 GENERAL APFEAEANCE 
 
 OF HAMBURG. 
 
 17 
 
 form a just estimate of what may be called the 
 characteristic peculiarities of Hamburg. These 
 are to be sought for elsewhere, amid the long, 
 narrow, steep, I had almost said perpendicular 
 streets, in which the wealthy merchants carry 
 on their business; in the antique squares, some 
 of them to all appearance never completed, 
 where dwelt of old her princely burgomasters; 
 by the wharfs and quays along which her 
 cargoes are discharged; and above all, in her 
 Exchange. For it is here that we discover not 
 only evidence of great prosperity at the present 
 moment, but of more than prosperity in the 
 palmy days gone by, when the Hanse Towns 
 took the lead of all Europe in the prosecution 
 of commercial enterprise, and the treasures of 
 the East were poured abundantly into their laps. 
 We often find the task of description the most 
 arduous, when the scenes to be described, 
 whether natural or otherwise, have most de- 
 lighted ourselves. Yet there is uniformly, in 
 such cases, a disposition to say something; and 
 I, like others in a similar situation, obey but a 
 natural impulse, when I endeavour, however 
 ineffectually, to make a transcript of the feelings 
 
 which possessed me while traversing the streets 
 
 of Hamburg. 
 
 We had the good fortune to wander through 
 the old town on a market-day. Crowds of 
 country people, in all manner of grotesque 
 costumes, were there; as well as an endless 
 variety of cooks, handmaidens, and other domes- 
 tic servants, all of them dressed, according to 
 the fashion of the place, in the very height of 
 the mode. For a domestic servant never goes 
 abroad here except in kid gloves and a lace cap; 
 her solitary badge of office being a cradle- 
 shaped basket, suspended from the left arm. 
 The appearance of these groups interested us 
 much; as did a funeral procession,— an affair 
 entirely different, in all respects, from what one 
 sees in almost any other city of Europe. On 
 such occasions the Hamburgers do not consider 
 themselves bound to mourn, or affect to mourn, 
 in their own proper perspns. That is a duty 
 which they discharge by proxy; and there is a 
 distinct order of persons on whom it devolves, 
 as well as a distinct fee to be paid for its per- 
 formance. The Reisten Dienen, or body-guard 
 of the magistrates, act in the twofold capacity 
 
18 
 
 ST. Michael's church. 
 
 ANTIQUE BUILDINGS. 
 
 19 
 
 
 ri 
 
 of mourners at a funeral and jubilators at a 
 wedding. They are in number sixteen, and 
 they dress for each occasion in ruffs, powdered 
 wigs, short cloaks, and swords. 
 
 One of the lions of the place to which visitors 
 are invariably conducted, is the church of St 
 Michael. It is the largest and the oldest church 
 in the city, but it has neither beauty nor any 
 marked peculiarity of style to recommend it; 
 unless, indeed, the prodigious height of the 
 tower, which exceeds that of St. Paul's by 
 nearly one hundred feet, may be so accounted. 
 It is a huge, clumsy mass of red stone; substan- 
 tial enough to defy, for ages yet to come, the 
 natural operations of decay; yet nowise aided in 
 its powers of endurance by the care that is 
 bestowed upon it. The quantity of broken glass 
 in the windows struck me, indeed, as being 
 quite discreditable; and the air of neglect and 
 squalor which hung round it, both internally 
 and externally, was distressing. I am aware 
 that in Protestant Germany in general, little 
 reo-ard is taken of the neatness of the churches, 
 and that the Germans themselves make very 
 light of the matter. Nor is it, perhaps, quite 
 
 fair to draw conclusions that affect the character 
 of a people, from circumsUnces in themselves 
 so trivial. But one is apt to imagine, that 
 where the outward badges of religion are neg- 
 lected, religion itself is not very highly accounted 
 of; and where there is no religion— deep, and 
 earnest, and sincere,— it may surely be doubted 
 whether there can be any such thing as sound 
 
 morality or virtue. 
 
 St. Michael's church stands in one of those 
 antique squares, of which I have already spoken; 
 the unpaved, uncultivated area of which is sur- 
 rounded by houses evidently of a date not later 
 than the middle or end of the fifteenth century. 
 Tall, gable-fronted, grotesque-looking edifices 
 they are, with small, yet highly-decorated win- 
 dows; the stone mouldings of which give an 
 air of solidity and pretension to the dark red 
 brick-walls on which they are engrafted. The 
 most striking of these front you when you look 
 towards the south, whence also passes a steep 
 and narrow street, which, leading towards the 
 Elbe, introduces you, stage by stage, into all the 
 bustle and hurry of wharfs and storehouses. 
 Moreover as you descend towards the level of 
 
20 
 
 INUNDATIONS. 
 
 f i 
 
 the Elbe, you find that the Dutch are not the 
 only people in Europe, who, either for the con- 
 venience of transfer, or because they relish the 
 proximity of water to their dwellings, dig canals 
 in their streets. The Hamburgers, after dam- 
 ming up the Alster, so as to form the lake 
 beside the Yong-fersteig, of which 1 have spoken, 
 let off its waters through sluices, and causing 
 them first to turn some flour-mills in their 
 course, distribute them by-and-by in minute 
 channels all over the town. There is, however, 
 this difference between the canals in Rotterdam 
 and those in Hamburg: that whereas the former 
 occupy the centre of the way, the latter flank 
 them. Moreover, in Hamburg certain incon- 
 veniences attach to the arrangement, which in 
 the towns of Holland are not experienced. 
 There never occurs a flood either in the Alster 
 or the Elbe, whether from the prevalence of 
 westerly winds, or from any other cause, which 
 brings not with it a large amount of suffering to 
 a large amount of the population. For in 
 Hamburg the labouring classes inhabit almost 
 exclusively under-ground cellars in the streets 
 through which the canals pass; and on such 
 
 INUNDATIONS. 
 
 21 
 
 •M 
 
 VI 
 
 occasions the swollen waters never fail of ^ 
 making their way into the poor people's dwell- 
 ings. To such an extent are the evils of inun- 
 dation felt to press, that private beneficence 
 cannot keep pace with it. There is a law, 
 therefore, which compels the inhabitants of the 
 upper stories to give shelter, during the flood, 
 to their humble neighbours, and a tax is levied 
 on the community at large for the purpose of 
 making good to the sufferers what they may 
 have lost hf the inundation. All this is very 
 humane as well as politic, but the mischief done 
 to health no pecuniary aid can remove; aind it 
 is impossible to provide against the recurrence 
 of the same calamity from time to time, because 
 the surface extent of Hamburg is by no means 
 proportionate to the amount of its population. 
 The poor people having no other habitations 
 to retire to, are obliged to re-establish them- 
 selves in their cellars long before they have 
 had time to dry; and fevers, and agues, and 
 catarrhs, and rheumatisms are the inevitable 
 
 consequence. 
 
 After loitering amid these picturesque streets, 
 and living, while so occupied, for times past 
 
 V 4 
 
22 
 
 THE EXCHANGE. 
 
 THE EXCHANGE. 
 
 23 
 
 \'. 
 
 rather than for times present, the stranger will 
 be reminded that the great hour of the day is 
 at hand; and that if he desire to become an eye 
 • witness of the meeting of merchants in the 
 Exchange, it will be necessary to thread his 
 way back towards the heart of the city. I acted 
 npon the guide's suggestion, of course nothing 
 loth; and was introduced into a hall of large 
 dimensions, the roof of which was supported by 
 numerous pillars, and the walls set around with 
 benches. Closets, or retiring rooms, were about 
 it in great numbers ; each shut in by its o%ni 
 partitions and cut off from the great hall by 
 glazed doors; so that the parties engaged within 
 can enjoy all the advantages of private converse, 
 and yet be able to observe the movements of the 
 crowd without. In the hall, likewise, as in our 
 own Exchange in London, each portion of space 
 appeared to be set apart to its legitimate uses. 
 Of the many hundreds that crowded it, from all 
 the nations under heaven, there was not an 
 individual, myself alone excepted, who did not 
 seem to know his own proper place, as well as 
 the stations of those with whom he desired to 
 transact business. There was no confusion, no 
 
 jostling, no clamour; but amid a ceaseless buzz 
 of tongues, men passed hither and thither; now 
 halting to confer, now conferring while they 
 walked, and anon returning to their respective 
 stations. I have seldom witnessed a more 
 animated or striking scene;— for the costumes 
 of the traders were as varied as the dialects 
 spoken were numerous, and the spirit of com- 
 mercial enterprise appeared to be alike powerful 
 
 m 
 
 in all. 
 
 The 'change filled at three as if instinctively; 
 no sooner had the clock struck four, than busi- 
 ness entirely ceased. One moment I looked 
 round upon a crowded hall,— the next it was 
 empty. As a matter of course I followed the 
 living stream, which led me first into a little 
 square, where knots and groups still lingered: 
 and by-and-by towards the Borsenhalle,— a sort 
 of club or tontine, which being supported by 
 voluntary subscriptions, is well supplied with 
 newspapers in all languages, and other sources 
 of information. It was thronged with persons, 
 not a few of whom appeared more intent on 
 pushing forward their own schemes, than care- 
 ful to ascertain how matters stood in other 
 
H- 
 
 24 
 
 THE TABLE d'HOTE. 
 
 parts of the world. This was quite natural, but 
 it did not greatly interest me: so instead of 
 lingering to watch the result, I walked back to 
 my hotel, which I reached just in time to take 
 my own proper place, and play my own particu- 
 lar part, in the table d'hote dinner. 
 
 There is no country in the world in which 
 the business of dining is more gravely dealt 
 ^vith than in Germany. There is no city in 
 Germany where men dine with greater zeal 
 than in Hamburg. Tlie affair is, indeed, a 
 momentous one to all concerned; and the 
 deliberation and seriousness with which its 
 details go forward are truly edifying. Figure 
 to yourself, gentle reader, a long table, spread 
 in the centre of an uncarpeted room, with 
 covers for some thirty or five-and-thirty guests, 
 each of whom has a station assigned to him, 
 more or less removed from the chair, according 
 as his sojourn in the hotel may have been more 
 or less protracted. As the clock strikes four, 
 mine host-in this instance a grave portly per- 
 sonage— seats himself at the head of the board ; 
 his wife, for such I presume the lady to have 
 been, taking her place at his right hand. A 
 
 THE TABLE D'HOTE. 
 
 25 
 
 tureen of soup is then planted before him, 
 from which he proceeds to administer to his 
 guests their respective portions, with all the 
 dignity, and not a little of the patronizing air 
 which marks the bearing of a noble towards 
 his country visitors. The soup is eaten lei- 
 surely, and with great relish; the operation 
 being enlivened with much talk concerning 
 money, and the occasional sipping of wine or 
 beer, of which liquors you may or may not par- 
 take, without exciting the surprise of any human 
 being, not even of a waiter. This done, and the 
 tureen being removed, there are carried round 
 two dishes of bouille, that is to say, of beef 
 entirely innocent of fat, and boiled to tatters ; of 
 which, with the addition of some sour sauce and 
 putrefied cucumbers, the Germans eat greedily, 
 while you, if your gorge revolt from it, must 
 exercise your patience ; for it comes alone in 
 its glory. But all things that had a beginning, 
 must likewise have an end. The bouille dis- 
 appears at last; and there succeeds it a solitary 
 dish of fish, which, after it has stood perhaps a 
 second or two in front of mine host, goes, like 
 its predecessor, the xoimd of the table. It is 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 c - 
 
'% 
 
 26 
 
 THE TABLE D'HOTE. 
 
 THE TABLE d'HOTE. 
 
 27 
 
 not despised by any one, though I do not recol- 
 lect that either here or at any other table 
 d'hote, was the same dish eaten of twice, at 
 least by a German. Next comes roast beef, 
 first presented entire, then removed to the side- 
 board, cut into slices, and handed round. Then 
 follows aplumpudding,andlast of all, a haunch of 
 roasted venison, with stewed prunes. Now when 
 it is borne in mind that these various dishes aH 
 made their appearance one after the other ;— that 
 no vegetables, except cucumbers and sour crout, 
 bore them company; that the guests lingered 
 over their several morsels, as if to enjoy them 
 had been the point towards which, from early 
 dawn, their fondest wishes were turned; that 
 the head-waiter, after seeing that the strangers 
 wre helped, sat down at the bottom of the 
 table and helped himself; that beef was sue 
 ceeded by fish, and plum-pudding by venison, 
 and that to get through the whole occupied a 
 space of not less than two hours and a-half, it 
 is scarcely to be wondered at, if, in the eyes of 
 «uch as had never witnessed the like before, a 
 table d'hote dinner at the Hotel de Russie in 
 Hamburg should have gj^eared pre-eminently 
 
 absurd. I have eaten many such meals, both 
 before and since, though never, I think, with a 
 sense of the ludicrous so strong upon me as on 
 that occasion; and I must plead this fact as an 
 apology, if such be needed, to those who, being 
 themselves familiar with the style of tables 
 d'hote, may be apt to forget that there are others 
 in the world, to whom even this account of it 
 may prove both novel and interesting. 
 
 So much for the approved method of dining 
 in one of the best hotels in Germany. Of the 
 order pursued in reference to other matters, 
 equally important, why should I speak? The 
 <Jermans are for the most part early risers. 
 Even in Hamburg, where men lie late, it is a 
 rare thing to see the blinds of a bedroom win- 
 dow drawn in summer after seven; in winter 
 after eight. No sooner are you astir, however, 
 than the question is put whether you desire 
 breakfast, and your answer in the afiarmative is 
 followed by the return of the waiter, who sets 
 before you, on your dressing-table, a single 
 sweet cake or tiny roll, a small China cup, a 
 coffee-pot duly proportioned to it, a few lumps 
 of sugar in a saucer, and in case you have par- 
 
 C 2 
 
1 
 
 11^^ 1 1 
 
 1 
 
 28 
 
 MODE OF LIVING. 
 
 ticularly ordered it, a modicum of milk. Behold 
 your morning's meal, to obtain any enlargement 
 of which will require on your part great care in 
 the specification of your mshes, with perhaps 
 the exercise of a more than moderate degree of 
 patience while waiting , their fulfilment. For a 
 German never humes himself about anything; 
 and to ^ put out ofliis way in the arrangement 
 of what he treats as his own domestic concerns, 
 is of all grievances to him the most intolerable. 
 It is true that in Hamburg, and indeed, in most 
 others of the large cities which are much 
 frequented by Englishmen, these difficulties, if 
 such they deserve to be called, may be over- 
 come. But deviate ever so slightly from the 
 great roads, and you will find them insurmoun- 
 table, at least within the space of time which 
 business or pleasure is apt to leave at your dis- 
 posal while passing hurriedly from one point of 
 attraction to another. 
 
 In spite of their extreme moderation in the 
 affair of breakfast, it must not, however, be 
 imagined that the Germans are small eaters. 
 The cup of coffee and morsel of dry bread 
 alluded to above, serve but as a whet for a more 
 
 
 
 MODE OF LIVING. 
 
 29 
 
 substantial meal; which about the hour of ten, 
 makes its appearance, among the poor in the 
 shape of a second supply of bread and coffee, 
 among the rich under the guise of a solid meat 
 luncheon. Then comes, except in Hamburg, 
 Vienna, Munich, and one or two places besides, 
 T^here they dine late, the dinner at twelve or 
 one o'clock, a meal which rarely fails to carry 
 the German forward to the hour of three ; and 
 which, being concluded with a cup of coffee, 
 sends him back, if a man of business, to his 
 counting-room,— if a mere lounger, to his pipe 
 or cigar, or his game at cards, or his siesta. 
 The play or opera succeeds at six, and at eight 
 or nine there is a hot supper, with all the 
 accompaniments of wine, and beer, and comfits. 
 Finally the pipe is resumed,— that indispensable 
 requisite to a German's existence, which he 
 plies during his busiest, not less zealously than 
 in his idlest hours, and scarcely lays aside even 
 in places of public amusement. In Hamburg, 
 this is remarkably the case, as we had occasion 
 to observe, in passing the doors of two concert 
 rooms on our way to the theatre. Sweet sounds 
 came forth from a dense cloud of tobacco-smoke; 
 
u 
 
 
 . I '^ ^ 
 
 30 
 
 GERMAN BEDS. 
 
 CONSTITUTION OF HAMBUEG. 
 
 31 
 
 nay, so inveterate is the habit with some, that 
 they never lie down without carrying their 
 meershaums along with them, and so smoke 
 themselves, ultimately, to sleep. 
 
 Talking of sleep reminds me, that as yet I 
 have said nothing descriptive of the wooden 
 boxes, which throughout the whole of Germany, 
 as well as very generally in Hungary, do duty as 
 bedsteads. It is not necessary that I should 
 supply the omission; for in every set of what 
 are called Dutch toys, an accurate model of the 
 implement is to be found; and were the case 
 otherwise. Captain Hall has already forestalled 
 me. I think, indeed, that the gallant author of 
 Schloss Hdnfield is too severe upon these simple 
 couches. For my own part, I found them ex- 
 ceedingly comfortable; and if at first the cover- 
 ing of a feather-bed perplexed me a little, use 
 and wont, in this, as in other cases, fulfilled 
 their end; and I learned ere long to sleep under 
 my mountain of down quite as soundly as when 
 covered up in Holland sheets and Witney 
 
 blankets. 
 
 Hamburg, as I need scarcely observe, is a 
 free town, that is to say, it possesses the right 
 
 of self-government, and retains the privilege, 
 as a portion of the German Confederation, of 
 giving a fragment of a vote at all general meet- 
 ings of the Diet. Its affairs, whether fiscal, 
 commercial, or judicial, are managed by an 
 executive senate, and a legislative councU ; the 
 former consisting of thirty-six members, elected 
 for life; the latter of citizens, chosen out of 
 three colleges, to represent the body of the 
 people. In the senate, twenty-eight members 
 only have individual votes, of which four are 
 burgomasters; the rest,-four syndics, one 
 prothonotary, one archivarius, and two secre- 
 taries,— are mere oflicers of the court, who may 
 advise, but possess no right of decision. As 
 far as I could judge from a few days' residence 
 among them, the Hamburgers enjoy an ample 
 share of personal liberty. Foreigners are re- 
 quired, indeed, to produce their passports, and 
 the surveUlance of the police is said to be strict ; 
 yet men appear to occupy themselves unques- 
 tioned, in any way which is not hurtful to their 
 neighbours, and the streets are open to them 
 at all hours, both by night and day. I bave 
 heard it whispered, that Prussia keeps a firm 
 
 IW 
 
■t " 
 
 •! 
 
 III! 
 
 
 32 
 
 ENMITY OF DENMARK. 
 
 hold upon the neck of this petty republic. It 
 may be so, but sure I am that among the 
 Hamburgers themselves there is no apparent 
 jealousy of Prussia ; for even in reference to 
 the great commercial league, of which Prussia 
 is the pulse and heart, they have refused to be 
 guided by her wishes. Moreover, there is a 
 power, nearer at hand, of which they have more 
 cause to be afraid : I allude to Denmark, whose 
 hostile feeling scarce assumes the pretext of a 
 disguise, and from whose aggressions they look 
 to Prussia as both able and willing to protect 
 them. For Denmark has long been anxious to 
 turn the tide of northern commerce into her 
 own ports, and to accomplish that object would 
 absorb Hamburg altogether, were she not 
 deterred by the single but most effective con- 
 sideration, that the other states of Europe will 
 not permit the wrong. Accordingly, she uses 
 her best endeavours to annoy where she is with- 
 out strength sufficient to oppress. Enclosing 
 the free town on all sides, except where the 
 waters of the Elbe afford a passage, she takes care 
 that the roads through these portions of her ter- 
 ritory shall be of the worst description. More- 
 
 i"*i 
 
 SOCIETY OF HAMBURG. 
 
 33 
 
 over Denmark is near at hand, while Prussia 
 lies comparatively at a distance ; and, with states 
 as well as with individuals, it not unfrequently 
 happens, that a too close proximity nourishes 
 any feeling rather than that of cordial regard. 
 
 Of the state of society in Hamburg I am 
 scarcely entitled to speak, having seen few 
 specimens of it, and these very hurriedly. I 
 should say, however, that the citizens, whether 
 natives or foreigners, are much given to hos- 
 pitality. That, though devoting their best 
 energies to trade, as to a business, their minds 
 are yet open to pleasurable emotions; that 
 their tastes are more jovial than refined, their 
 hearts more warm than their notions of 
 decorum are rigid. In particular I am inclined 
 to suspect that the passion for gaming prevails 
 largely among them, and that their ideas con- 
 coming the domestic duties, which with us are 
 regarded as sacred, do not come up to the 
 highest point in the moral standard. That 
 they are fully alive to the claims of the suffer- 
 inc. and indigent is, however, proved by the 
 munificence with which they support their 
 Great Hospital, a noble establishment in the 
 
 c3 
 
34 
 
 OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 35 
 
 GENERAL 
 
 suburb of St. George, where some thousands of 
 sick are constantly lodged and eared for; while 
 in the Orphan Asylum not fewer than six 
 hundred children are reared, that they may be 
 put out, when of sufficient age, as apprentices 
 to different useful trades. 
 
 The Hamburgers are justly proud of the 
 ionour which attaches to their city as tha 
 birthplace of Klopstock ; and they take great 
 delight in showing you, both the house in 
 which he died, and his tomb, in a grave-yard 
 outside the walls, in that strip of neutral 
 ground called Hamburgerburg, which divides 
 the free town from Altona. Here also is a 
 monument to the citizens who fell in 1813-14, 
 during the memorable siege under Davoust. 
 But enough of this first stage in a progress 
 which, for a time at least, it is my purpose to 
 sketch very rapidly, partly because the ground 
 has been repeatedly trodden by others, partly 
 because my personal opportunities for collect- 
 ing fresh information were not great. When, 
 then, I state that the population of Hamburg 
 is of the most motley description, including, by 
 a recent census, upwards of six thousand Jews ; 
 
 that the English take the lead in affairs of 
 fashion ; that their language is generally under- 
 stood, and not rarely spoken ; and that there 
 needs but an introduction to one in order to 
 secure a hospitable reception from the whole 
 body, I shall have said quite as much as my 
 own inclinations prompt me to say,-and more, 
 perhaps, than may be acceptable to my reader. 
 So here I close the chapter. 
 
 i 
 
36 
 
 QUIT HAMBURG. 
 
 37 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 QUIT HAMBURG.— -GENERAL APPEARANCE OF THE COUN- 
 TRY. MECKLENBURG-SCH WERIN. BAUTZENBURG. 
 
 THE PALACE OF LUDWIGSLUST. KORNER's MONUMENT. 
 
 —GROBOW.— CROSS THE PRUSSIAN FRONTIER.— REMARK- 
 ABLE CONTRAST BETWEEN THE TWO COUNTRIES. 
 SPANDAU : ITS FORTIFICATIONS, STATE PRISON, CHURCH, 
 AND CRYPTS.— THE PALACE OF CHARLOTTENBURG.— 
 APPROACH TO BERLIN. 
 
 At seven o'clock, on the morning of April the 
 6th, we set out for Berlin in two carriages, 
 with the proprietors of which I had made my 
 bargain overnight. This mode of travelling is 
 called houdering, and to those who are encum- 
 bered, as on the present occasion I chanced to 
 be, with a large following of children and 
 domestics, it is at once the most convenient 
 and the most economical that can be adopted. 
 Your voiturier agrees to furnish for each vehi- 
 cle as many horses as you may consider neces- 
 sary ; though in general it will be found that 
 two are quite sufficient. He pledges himself, 
 moreover, to deliver you, against an appointed 
 
 I 
 
 day, at your place of destination; and settles 
 before-hand the various points at which you 
 shall halt, en route, for meals and sleeping. On 
 the other hand, you promise to pay, on arrival, 
 a fixed sum as the hire of the said horses, as 
 well as a drink-gelt, or driver's fee, to the 
 coachman ; and if you are prudent, you insert 
 a stipulation, that in case you may desire to 
 alter your plans on the road, the voiturier shall 
 be bound to accede to your wishes. It is, of 
 course, good policy on your part to behave 
 towards your coachman with liberality. It is 
 in all cases a mark of wisdom not less than of 
 generosity, to be kind to those on whose ser- 
 vices you depend. Men in general, and Ger- 
 mans in particular, are much more easily led 
 than driven ; and callous as the class of whom 
 I am now speaking almost unavoidably become, 
 even they are not insensible to the influence of 
 schnaps and hot suppers. 
 
 The morning though dull was fine, and the 
 air sharp and bracing, when our well-loaded 
 vehicles began to move at the steady and delibe- 
 rate rate which German houderers can rarely 
 be prevailed upon to exceed. So long as our 
 
38 
 
 GENERAL APPEAKANCE 
 
 journey lay through the petty territory of 
 Hamburg, we maintained this jog-trot easily 
 enough ; no sooner had we passed the frontier 
 than the effects of Danish jealousy became 
 apparent, and even we admitted that to put 
 the horses out of a walk would have been 
 cruel. There was absolutely no road at all, 
 but a mere track,— a sort of line drawn by the 
 passage and repassage of carriages, which was 
 distinguished from the champaign only by the 
 many and deep ruts into which our wheels 
 sank at times almost to the axletree. Neither 
 would it be easy to imagine a more desolate 
 and cheerless scene than that which lay around 
 us. We were traversing a huge plain of bleak, 
 bare, barren, irreclaimable sand ;— scantily 
 clothed at remote intervals with stunted firs 
 and heather, and scarcely relieved by the ranges 
 of low hills, which here and there broke in 
 upon, but could not destroy its monotony. 
 Not that even in this huge desert, green spots 
 failed occasionally to intervene. I dare say 
 that if we had stumbled upon these in any 
 other comer of the globe, we should have 
 passed them by altogether unheeded ; yet such 
 
 OF THE COUNTRY. 
 
 39 
 
 >'\ 
 
 is the effect of contrast that here and there 
 a wretched hamlet, with its half-cultivated 
 fields and humble church, cheated us into feel- 
 ings almost akin to admiration. This was 
 particularly the case at a point where the Elbe, 
 making a detour to the left, approached so near 
 to what must, I presume, be called the road, 
 that we were tempted to quit our carriages and 
 walk across the fields, in order to stand upon 
 the summit of its precipitous bank. Just under 
 that bank, in a sort of recess of nature's for- 
 mation, lay a village,— one of the prettiest 
 things which I have seen in the north of Ger^ 
 many. Indeed, the whole scene gratified us 
 much ; for a fine river is a redeeming feature 
 in any landscape, and the Elbe is here both 
 broad and rapid, albeit very dark and dingy in 
 the hue of its waters. 
 
 Our journey this day was fatiguing, and the 
 impression left upon our minds at its close was 
 not agreeable ; for though few signs of abso- 
 lute mendicancy were presented to us, the air of 
 the country was that of one where the whole 
 population is poor. Towards evening, indeed, 
 this latter impression became less painful, 
 
 
40 
 
 BAUTZENBURG. 
 
 when, late in the afternoon, we crossed the 
 frontier-line, and for an hour or two travelled 
 through the territories of the Grand Duchy of 
 Mecklenburg-Schwerin. Oiit halting-place was 
 Bautzenburg, a small town upon the Elbe; 
 concerning which I find no other memoranda 
 in my diary than that we received a visit at 
 our inn from certain officers of customs and 
 police, who treated us with great civility, and 
 scarce examined our passports. In like man- 
 ner the occurrences of the following day require 
 but a narrow space to record them. There had 
 fallen some snow in the night, and the clouds 
 were loaded with more when we set out, yet 
 was our progress both more rapid and our enjoy- 
 ment of travel greater than it had previously 
 been. Nothing could exceed the excellence of 
 the macadamized road under our horses' feet. 
 No district under heaven could exhibit stronger 
 proofs of the diligence, and even skill, which 
 had been bestowed upon its cultivation. The 
 soil was not naturally rich ; on the contrary, it 
 appeared to partake very much of the nature 
 of the track which we had left behind ; yet it 
 bore everywhere marks of the plough, and the 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 \ 
 
 FARMING. 
 
 41 
 
 farm-yards that surrounded the houses of the 
 cultivators were tolerably well stocked. It 
 may not be amiss if I relate, that in Mecklen- 
 burg-Schwerin the system of farming which 
 prevails in Austria, and did not long ago prevail 
 in Prussia likewise, is unknown. Many pro- 
 prietors reside here upon their estates, where 
 they devote themselves to agriculture as to a 
 business ; whilst of tenants, properly so called, 
 there is no lack ; some of them in the occupa- 
 tion of holdings, which, in point of magnitude, 
 Would not disgrace the farmers of the Lothians 
 
 themselves. 
 
 We passed to day, on our route to Grobow, 
 where it had been determined to spend the 
 night, two objects which interested us a good 
 deal, though the interest created by the one 
 was very different in its nature from that 
 excited by the other. Close to the town of 
 Ludwigslust is a palace belonging to the Grand 
 Duke of Mecklenberg-Schwerin, which, except 
 that it had been planted too near to the public 
 road, might be mistaken for the seat of some 
 nobleman or country gentleman in England. 
 It is a plain, neat, unassuming mansion, ap- 
 
 ! 
 
4Q 
 
 THE PALACE OF LUDWIGSLUST. 
 
 KORNER. 
 
 43 
 
 . ^y proached by an avenue of umbrageous elms, 
 / and surrounded by a park, such as one rarely 
 sees attached even to a royal residence in 
 Germany. I learned from my voiturier that it 
 contained a cabinet of pictures, as well as a 
 collection of Sclavonic antiquities of some 
 value ; but we did not stop to examine them, 
 for the weather threatened a storm, and* we 
 were fearful of being detained. We therefore 
 passed on, and in due time approached the 
 village of Wbbbelin, near to which a cast-iron 
 monument covers the remains of Korner, on 
 the spot where, in 1813, he fought and fell. 
 
 The career of that young and ardent spirit is 
 too well known to require that I should pause 
 to describe it in detail. A native of Dresden, 
 where his father held the situation of councillor 
 of appeals in the electoral court, Charles 
 Theodore Korner received his early education 
 partly at the Cross-schul, partly under the care 
 of private tutors ; from whose hands he passed, 
 at the age of seventeen and a half, into the 
 Mining Academy at Freyberg. This was in 
 1808, and he pursued his studies there as a miner 
 for two years, at the end of which he travelled 
 
 r 
 
 h 
 
 with his parents through Bohemia, Lusatia, and 
 Silesia, and then repaired to Leipsig ; of which 
 university he became a member. But Kor- 
 ner's genius had by this time so entirely deve- 
 loped itself, that the idea of entering him into 
 the Society of Miners was laid aside. In 
 1811 he removed to Berlin. In the autumn 
 of the same year he passed to Vienna, and, 
 being already well known as a dramatic writer, 
 he was hailed with boundless respect, and 
 appointed poet to the court theatre. The 
 duties of that office he continued to discharge, 
 with what effect the readers of his works can 
 judge; till, in the beginning of 1813, Ger- 
 many awoke as from a sleep, and her sons took 
 up arms to deliver her. It is still acknow- 
 ledged,— at the moment it was proudly de- 
 clared,— that, in stirring up the spirit of resist- 
 ance to a foreign yoke, K5rner was largely 
 instrumental. He had long seen and lamented 
 the oppression of his father-land, and now he 
 struck his lyre to a strain, which was felt and 
 responded to in every corner of Germany. 
 The peasant sang his songs in the tap-room of 
 the ale-house ; the noble listened to them in 
 
if 
 
 44 
 
 KORNER. 
 
 1 1 
 
 his ball of state ; and one and all made them 
 their war-cry, when those banners were unfurled 
 which were not to be hidden again from the 
 eye of heaven till Germany should be free. 
 Nor was Korner satisfied merely to excite 
 others by the power of his minstrelsy. In 
 March, 1813, he joined the free corps of Major 
 Von Lutzow, as a volunteer ; and on the 24th 
 of April following, was, by the acclamations of 
 his comrades, advanced to the rank of lieute- 
 nant. His bravery was equal to his enthu- 
 siasm. He fought for his country and he died 
 for it. On the 26th of August, while pressing 
 upon the rear-guard of the French near Rosen- 
 berg, in Mecklenburg-Schwerin, he received a 
 musket-ball in the spine, and almost instantly 
 expired. His monument distinguishes the spot 
 where that noble spirit went out. 
 
 Korner was one of those sublimated and 
 enthusiastic geniuses which seem peculiar to 
 the soil of Germany, and of Germany alone. 
 His patriotism was, without doubt, sincere ; yet 
 it was that of the creature of absolute romance. 
 Everything that he saw was seen through the 
 medium of an excited imagination ; every feel- 
 
 KORNER. 
 
 45 
 
 ing of his soul resolved itself into the ideal. 
 The odes which he addressed to his sword and 
 to his musket were, without doubt, treated by 
 himself as communications made to things that 
 could receive and understand them. His father- 
 land was not the Germany which we behold, — 
 the home of many solid virtues, doubtless, but 
 of many vices too,— but a paradise upon earth, 
 within which all that is noble and great in human 
 nature has been concentrated. What cared he 
 whether its rulers were just and its people free 
 and happy, or the reverse ? it was the land of 
 his birth, which his imagination endowed with 
 every imaginable excellence, both material and 
 spiritual. He saw it overrun by foreign armies, 
 and he devoted himself to become its deliverer. 
 He did contribute more than any other indi- 
 vidual to the accomplishment of that holy 
 object, and he died just as the certainty of an 
 ultimate triumph was made manifest. It was 
 well for his renown that he did so. Had he lived 
 in these days, or survived the war of deliverance 
 a very few years, it is more than probable that 
 his enthusiasm would have run a less healthy 
 course. His was precisely the sort of mind 
 
GROBOW. 
 
 47 
 
 it! 
 
 -.1 
 f '■ 
 II 
 
 ! I' 
 
 46 
 
 KOENER. 
 
 on which the theories of the mystics would 
 have made a deep impression ; and in this case 
 he would have become as dangerous an enemy 
 to the real well-being of his country, as in its 
 hour of deepest need he proved the reverse. 
 
 KSmer's works are in the hands of every- 
 body, and do not require that I should criticise 
 them. His minor pieces have the stamp of 
 true genius upon them, with a rare exemption 
 from the faults that attach to the lyrical efforts 
 of his countrymen in general. I allude parti- 
 cularly to the collection called the Lyre and 
 Sword, {Leyer und Schweri,) the whole of wTiich 
 is excellent. Of his dramas so much cannot 
 be said in praise; though these also, when we 
 recollect the extreme youth of the writer, are 
 wonderful. But I must not forget that the 
 ground on which I am treading has been 
 trodden by multitudes before me, or that, m 
 pausing to speak even of the mighty dead I 
 run some risk of drawing too much upon the 
 patience of the living. I return, therefore, to 
 
 any journal. 
 
 We slept that night at Grobow, an old town, 
 which bears about it the marks of former pros- 
 
 ( 
 
 perity, but is now gone utterly to decay. 
 Besides the remains of some extensive tan-pits, 
 one or two store-houses were pointed out to 
 us as the receptacles of butter, which is brought 
 in large quantities from the surrounding dis- 
 tricts, and sold at the fairs which occur six 
 times in every year. In other respects we 
 found but images of poverty and desolation 
 everywhere. A large church, neglected and 
 cold; thoroughfares choked up with filth; 
 houses, some of them in a state of absolute 
 dilapidation ; and streets, where there was no 
 bustle of living things, combined to give me 
 the idea of a place over which the calamity of 
 Tvar had lately swept. Yet was the inn by 
 no means a despicable station. The beds were 
 good, the host civil, and the cuisine very toler- 
 able ; so that, when once fairly housed, we had 
 no other ground of complaint than originated 
 in our apprehensions as to the results of the 
 
 morrow. 
 
 The snow was falling fast when we lay down ; 
 the face of the country was covered with it 
 when we rose again ; and the roads proved to 
 be, as we expected to find them, deep and 
 
'i: 
 
 ll! 
 
 48 THE PRUSSIAN FRONTIER. 
 
 heavy. We were, at Grobow, little more than 
 a German mile from the Prussian frontier ; yet 
 two hours of hard tugging were required to 
 carry us clear of the dominions of the grand 
 duke. At last, however, the task was accom- 
 plished ; and the effect of a process so simple 
 as the crossing of the imaginary line which 
 divides the two countries was such, as even at 
 this distance of time I find it impossible to 
 describe. It had not struck me while tra- 
 versing the grand duchy, that it exhibited any 
 startling signs of mismanagement on the part 
 of the government. The towns, to be sure, were 
 xnean, and commerce seemed to be neglected ; 
 but agriculture was carefully attended to,-and 
 if there was little show anywhere, either ot 
 enterprise or wealth, of squalid poverty no spe- 
 cimens had met us. From the instant that our 
 carriage-wheels touched the soil, of which the 
 black eagle that surmounts an obelisk of granite 
 seems to be the guardian, we felt as if we had 
 entered upon a new state of society. The 
 tillages through which we passed were all of 
 them neat and clean,-the towns bustling and 
 prosperous. Everywhere new buildings were 
 
 THE PRUSSIAN FRONTIER. 
 
 49 
 
 in progress. We felt, indeed, that we were in 
 a land where the government was strong, for 
 soldiers and revenue-officers swarmed round us ; 
 but we saw likewise that the strength of the 
 government was exerted, to promote what it 
 believed to be the best interests of the people. 
 From the border-line of Prussia all the way to 
 the capital, and from the capital till you touch 
 the border-line again, there is no such thing as 
 languor in any department. Fields admirably 
 tilled bespeak an industrious peasantry, shops 
 well supplied and well frequented, testify to the 
 presence of a spirit of commerce; nay, the 
 very excess of uniforms, though at first it 
 may startle, if it fail to offend, the English 
 traveller, is not without its influence in com- 
 manding at least his respect. He sees that the 
 country is not only great and prosperous, but 
 that its rulers are determined to keep it so. 
 
 About half-way between Grobow and War- 
 now,— close beside the obelisk just alluded to, 
 stands the custom-house,— a large brick building 
 which faces the main road, and is fronted by a 
 row of dwelling-houses, in which the revenue- 
 officers reside. Here we were, of course, sub- 
 VOL. I. ^ 
 
50 PRUSSIAN CtrSTOM-HOUSE. 
 
 iected to an examination, which, though strict, 
 ^as conducted with the utmost civility and good 
 humour. No article belonging to us was con- 
 demned; and of the trifling duty which I was 
 required to pay upon some writing-paper which 
 I had brought with me from England, I could 
 not possibly complain. I think that the sum 
 total of the charge amounted to twelve good 
 groschens, or eighteen pence of our money. 
 To be sure, the searchers having discovered 
 among our baggage a dozen or two of silver 
 forks and spoons, hesitated for a moment as to 
 passing them; and a piece of silk patch-work 
 ^ith which Mrs. Gleig was accustomed to amuse 
 herself, gave them marked uneasiness. Yet, m 
 both instances, the better feeling ultimately 
 prevailed, and our property was restored to us. 
 Then came the task of repacking, which the 
 disbursement of a couple of dollars among the 
 attendants rendered both expeditious and con- 
 venient, and in half an hour from the penod 
 . of our first detention, we were once more m 
 
 route. 
 
 I have nothing to relate of this day's journey. 
 
 except that it was in every respect toilsome 
 
 FRIESACH. 
 
 51 
 
 and comfortless. We had hoped, by reaching 
 Kyritz, to bring ourselves that night within an 
 easy march of Berlin ; but the elements proved 
 more potent than our wishes, and we were 
 compelled to stop short at Kletzke. In like 
 manner our progress on the day following was 
 most unsatisfactory. The horses knocked up,- 
 there were no fresh animals to be hired, and we 
 ^vere reduced to the necessity of finding rooms 
 at the inn of Friesach, which was crowded with 
 travellers, impeded like ourselves by the snow- 
 storm, and some of them, if we might judge 
 from the broken vehicles that cumbered the 
 yard, not likely to escape even on the morrow. 
 Yet even to us the morrow brought its own 
 difficulties. We became fairly imbedded in 
 the snow ; our jaded animals refused to exert 
 themselves further, and night was approaching. 
 Had such a calamity overtaken us in the Grand 
 Dochy of Mecklenburg, it is more than pro- 
 bable that we should have found it without 
 remedy; but in Prussia, of which the roads, 
 like everything else, are taken care of by the 
 government, help was not far to seek. There 
 had come forth from all the towns and viUages 
 
 D 2 
 
52 
 
 SPANDAU. 
 
 THE GREAT CHURCH. 
 
 53 
 
 ij 
 
 ii^ 
 
 near, crowds of country-people, ^.hose business 
 it was to keep the communications open : and 
 a portion of these beholding our plight, made 
 haste to succour us. We were dug out, and 
 went on our way rejoicing. Yet was it hope- 
 less to think of reaching Berlin that night, 
 though now little more than ten English miles 
 a-head of us. We were glad to halt in Span- 
 dau which we did not reach till near midmght; 
 and very thankful were we for the exclusive 
 possession of a ball-room, where, after swal- 
 lowing some coffee, the only refreshment that 
 <,ould be procured, we slept in our clothes on 
 mattresses that were spread for us along the 
 
 floor. 
 
 Spandau, the scene of Baron Trencks cap- 
 tivity, and the ancient residence of the electors 
 of Brandenburg, was not to be passed through 
 without, at least, some cursory examination. 
 We were, therefore, afoot with the early dawn, 
 and putting ourselves under the guidance of a 
 waiter, perambulated some of the principal 
 streets, besides visiting the great church of St. 
 Nicholas. The former are clean, airy, and 
 spacious, in spite of the disproportionate height 
 
 to which the houses on each side are carried ; 
 the latter, constructed about the middle of the 
 sixteenth century, is more rich in monuments 
 than conspicuous for the knowledge of his art 
 displayed by the architect. The monuments in 
 question consist chiefly of the effigies of war- 
 riors and dames, who in the season of their 
 mortality were in some way or another con- 
 nected with the town. They occupy niches 
 in the walls, and look grimly down upon you 
 as you pass; the knights arrayed in their 
 panoplies of steel,-the ladies attired after the 
 fashion of the age in which they lived. Yet 
 they are not the only, nor the most affecting 
 tributes, which in this church the living have 
 paid to the memory of the dead. I saw, hung 
 upon the walls in different places, small glazed 
 caskets, within which were deposited toys of 
 various kinds; and I ascertained on inquiry 
 that they had belonged to children, now buried 
 underneath, and that the parents of the little 
 ones had so placed them as the best and most 
 appropriate memorials that could be devised of 
 the innocence of their offspring. 
 
 The churches of the Protestants, in many 
 
) ^ I ! 
 
 •m 
 
 . 1! 
 
 i ' i 
 
 t ! 
 
 |t^ 
 
 54 
 
 THE GREAT CHURCH. 
 
 M 
 
 parts of Germany, are scarce more free than 
 those of the Roman Catholics, from objects 
 ■which to the eyes of our own more zealous 
 reformers took the hue of abominations. In 
 particular the crucifix occupies a conspicuous 
 position in all of them ; and is not unfrequently 
 executed in a style so severe, as to excite almost 
 every feeling except that of devotion. The 
 good people of Spandau are not, in this respect, 
 behind any other fabricators of horrors with 
 whom I have chanced to make acquaintance. 
 A colossal image of the crucified Redeemer is 
 suspended against one of the central pillars, 
 ■with every wound marked in the broadest 
 manner, and an expression of acute bodily suf- 
 fering given to the face, which affects you with 
 horror, not unallied to disgust. Wliat a mis- 
 take is here. Our own places of worship may 
 be, and perhaps are, too barren of ornament ; 
 for it is useless to deny that even our devotional 
 feelings are advantageously acted upon by the 
 happy exercise of skill both in painting and 
 music ; but surely nothing can be more hostile 
 to the sort of piety that elevates and refines, 
 than such spectacles as this. For he who can 
 
 THE CRYPTS. 
 
 55 
 
 look on them without loathing, must have 
 grown utterly caUous; and neither callousness 
 Lr a sense of disgust, are allied to devotion 
 Nor is it only thus that in Germany, and indeed 
 all over the continent, your cicerones of churches 
 trifle with the best feelings of our nature. 
 Relics of all sorts are odious,-whether they be 
 presented in the shape of a decayed coffin, or 
 come to you in the form of mouldering bone^ 
 or time-worn shreds of apparel. But the dried 
 corpses, to an inspection of which it is the 
 pleasure of our continental neighbours to treat 
 their visitors, are disgusting in the extreme. 
 To day, for example, we were carried, nokntes 
 vokntes, into a vault where coffins of all shapes 
 and sizes lay about in most admired confusion; 
 and the lids of one or two being Ufted, we 
 beheld the shrivelled remains of what had been, 
 a hundred and fifty years ago, creatures of like 
 passions and feelings with ourselves. I did not 
 find much amusement in this exercise ; no, not 
 even when the sextoness, pointing out to me a 
 lady who in her day had been the flower of 
 the electoral court, made me remark that 
 though the face was shrunk to a mummy. 
 

 !ii 
 
 ti 
 
 56 
 
 STATE PRISOl^. 
 
 CHARLOTTENBURG. 
 
 57 
 
 the raven hair still fell luxuriantly over all that 
 remained of her bosom and shoulders. 
 
 Spandau, in the time of the great Frederic, 
 was, and still continues to be, the state prison 
 of Prussia. It is strongly fortified, and may 
 at any moment be covered from a hostile ap- 
 proach by letting out the waters of the Havel 
 and the Spree, which meet imder its walls. 
 Being filled with troops, it has more the air of 
 an enormous barrack than of a town, and is, in 
 point of fact, so regarded. For I need not 
 observe, that in Prussia the deference paid to 
 military rank is excessive. I had not time to 
 inspect either the citadel or the penitentiary, 
 though both are deserving of notice ; the former 
 on account of its position, in an island of the 
 Spree, — the latter, partly because it is said to 
 be managed with exceeding skill, partly because 
 of the associations to which it must unavoid- 
 ably give rise. The connexion between a 
 palace and a prison is sometimes intimate 
 enough ; but it does not often happen, as has 
 occurred in the present instance, that a building 
 which used to accommodate a regal household, 
 is converted into a place of confinement for 
 five or six hundred criminals. 
 
 I 
 
 
 Spandau is distant from Berlin about two 
 German or ten English miles, which, as the 
 road is excellent, may be accomplished with 
 ease, under ordinary circumstances, in a couple 
 of hours. Our rate of travelling was not, 
 however, so expeditious; for the snow still lay 
 thick upon the ground, and we could not thmk, 
 even in such a season, of passing Charlotten- 
 burg by, wholly unnoticed. Of the taste with 
 which the pleasure-gardens have been laid out, 
 it is impossible for me to speak. I saw the 
 Spree, indeed, glancing here and there amid 
 umbrageous groves; but it looked cold and 
 cheerless,-while of the walks that are described 
 as meandering along its banks, not so much as 
 the outhne could be followed. In like manner 
 the broader avenues held out no temptations to 
 traverse them; for the road was muddy and 
 cold under-foot, and the canopies over-head 
 were leafless. But of the palace itself, I can 
 testify that it answers in all respects to the 
 description which has been given of it by one 
 with whose powers of dealing in such cases I 
 am not desirous of bringing my own into com- 
 petition. The favourite summer residence of 
 
 . D 3 
 
58 
 
 CHARLOTTENBURG. 
 
 MONUMENT OF QUEEN LOUISA. 
 
 59 
 
 the present king, as it was the home of his late 
 amiable and high-minded consort, no pains have 
 been spared to adapt it, as far as a palace ever 
 can be adapted, to the plain yet elegant taste 
 which in his retirement Frederic William loves 
 to indulge. State rooms, it doubtless contains, 
 all of them fitted up with great magnificence, — 
 and two, the China room, and the chapel, quite 
 perfect in their degree. But in the king's 
 private apartments everything is arranged on a 
 scale of simplicity, which bespeaks a mind too 
 well regulated not to find within itself purer 
 and better sources of enjoyment than those 
 which the great Avorld can supply. 
 
 I need not speak of the gem in this casket 
 of beauties,— Ranch's exquisite monument of 
 Queen Louisa,— a princess whose misfortunes 
 not less than her virtues, will long be remem- 
 bered in the land of her adoption. A figure, 
 as large as life, reposes on a marble sarcophagus, 
 within a little Doric temple in a retired part 
 of the garden, of which the attitude is easy, 
 graceful, and natural, and the expression on the 
 countenance not " of cold chill death, but of 
 undisturbed repose." Nothing can be more 
 
 ■ >i 
 
 perfect, because more touching, than the effect 
 produced by such an effort of genius. There 
 is no inscription on the tomb,-no wordy record 
 of the virtues of the deceased, or the grief ot 
 the survivor. The statue tells its own tale ; 
 and cold and unfeeling must be the nature of 
 him who fails to understand and be moved by 
 it Even the mausoleum, of polished gramte, 
 ha^ about it an air of melancholy; for which 
 you are willing to believe that you have dis- 
 covered an adequate cause only when the cas- 
 teUan makes you aware of the uses to which 
 it has been applied. We lingered long and 
 sadly within its area, and quitted it at length 
 ^ith hearts softened, and therefore not unim- 
 
 proved by the exercise. 
 
 From the moment of your arrival in Char- 
 lottenburg, you feel that you are approaching 
 the capital of a great country. There is an air 
 of elegance, a character of aristocracy about 
 the village, which it is impossible to mistake, 
 and which suffers no diminution throughout the 
 remainder of your short journey. The road, 
 which is perfectly straight, runs through a sue 
 cession of groves, dotted at brief intervals with 
 
 'i 
 
60 
 
 APPROACH TO BERLIN. 
 
 villas and country-houses ; while here and there 
 a cluster of ornamented cottages stand forward, 
 to speak of something more than a mere com- 
 petency as appertaining to their occupants. 
 Moreover, the traffic along the chaussee gathers 
 power at every step. Handsome equipages 
 begin to meet and to pass you; detachments 
 of cavalry are on the march, and the very 
 pedestrians wend on their way like men whose 
 anticipations, or their memories, are busy. 
 Finally, the Thiergarten on the one hand, and 
 the grand parade on the other, close you in, 
 and suggest that an important stage in your 
 progress has been accomplished. At the ter- 
 mination of the long vista which is formed by 
 the plantations that shelter them, the eye 
 obtains its first glimpse of that for which it 
 • has long been seeking, and rests with delight 
 on the beautiful Brandenburg Gate, by which, 
 from this side, Berlin is entered. 
 
 61 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 FIRST VIEW OF BERLIN.— THE PUBLIC BUILDINGS.— THE 
 SQUARES.-THE PALACE, MUSEUM, PICTURE GALLERY. 
 — THE GOVERNMENT OF PRUSSIA.- ADMINISTRATION 
 OF THE LAWS.— MILITARY SYSTEM. — COMMERCIAL 
 LEAGUE. 
 
 It would be difficult to conceive a more im- 
 posing spectacle of the kind, than is brought in 
 a moment before the gaze of the stranger, who 
 f<fr the first time enters the Prussian capital, 
 from the side of Charlottenburg. Situated in 
 a dead level, and overshadowed by plantations 
 and groves, Berlin is completely hidden from 
 you till you have passed the barrier ; when you 
 are introduced all at once to a scene, of the . 
 gorgeous magnificence of which, no one, till he 
 shall have thus made acquaintance with it, may 
 hope to form a conception. Your carriage 
 having passed beneath the span of the gateway, 
 which not being arched, produces a two-fold 
 striking effect, halts at the barrier guard-house, 
 and so enables you to look forth upon the 
 entire extent of the Unter den Linden,— the 
 
62 
 
 FIRST VIEW 
 
 Street within which all that is fine in the archi- 
 tectural adornment of the city, has, whether 
 purposely or not, been concentrated. Here, on 
 either side of a broad space, which double rows 
 of lime-trees divide into five separate avenues, 
 are houses, each of which might be mistaken for 
 a palace, — not lofty,— for there is no house in 
 Berlin, the height of which exceeds three stories, 
 — but wide, spacious, and open-fronted ; — built 
 with just enough of uniformity to show that the 
 architect of each was not left to indulge his own 
 unfettered humours, yet completely exempt from 
 that sameness which, if too closely observed, 
 never fails to displease and to fatigue. More- 
 over, at the far extremity of the vista are seen, 
 the massive Schloss, the light and beautiful 
 colonnade of the Museum, the main-guard-house 
 
 an admirable specimen of architectural 
 
 elegance, the Italian Opera, and the University. 
 Nor is the eye soon tired of examining the 
 Brandenburg Gate itself, with its noble pillars, 
 its chaste masonry, and the pure and classical 
 group which crowns it, — Victory, in her car 
 drawn by four finely-executed horses, and 
 bearing aloft in her hand the Prussian eagle. 
 
 OF BERLIN. 
 
 63 
 
 surmounted by the iron cross. I need scarcely 
 add, that this exquisite group having been 
 removed by Napoleon to Paris, was, on the 
 turn in the tide of his fortunes, reclaimed by 
 its rightful owners ; who, to commemorate their 
 triumph, added to the principal figure the em- 
 blems which she now carries, and from which 
 the Prussians do not imagine that she can ever 
 again be separated. 
 
 Such is the impression produced by a first 
 view of Berlin, as it is presented to you from 
 the Brandenburg gate,-an impression far sur- 
 passing that which I, at least, have received 
 from my introduction into any other of the 
 capitals of Europe. It is necessary to add, 
 that a more intimate acquaintance with the 
 city, does not by any means realise the expec- 
 tations which have thus been excited. On the 
 contrary, you are not slow in discovering that 
 once out of the line of the Unter den Linden, 
 and all that is really magnificent in the place 
 has been left behind. It is true that in the 
 Gens-d'Armes Platz there are the theatre and 
 two churches, all of them effective, and the two 
 latter gorgeous. Yet the eye has already begun 
 
'^ 
 
 THE WILHELMPLATZ. 
 
 65 
 
 64 
 
 THE SQUARES. 
 
 to tire of the perpetual recurrence of Ionic 
 pillars, and there is positively no other style 
 than the Ionic, in Berlin. In like manner the 
 squares, though by the Prussians themselves 
 highly esteemed, present few features of attrac- 
 tion, — at least to an Englishman. The houses, 
 to be sure, are for the most part handsome 
 enough ; and if there be a good deal of same- 
 ness in the constant repetition of expansive 
 fronts, and crowded windows, at least there is 
 perfect regularity, and a total absence of con- 
 straint. 'Nevertheless the spaces within being 
 entirely destitute of ornament, — there being 
 neither shrub, nor tree, nor even grass-plat, on 
 •which to rest us, as a centre,— you are conscious 
 while looking round, of a strong sense of the 
 mean ; and you go away wondering how, in a 
 place where so much has been done for effect, 
 the object sought to be attained could have 
 been sacrificed to an omission at once so pal- 
 pable and so easily supplied. Take as an illus- 
 tration of my meaning the following sketch of 
 the Wilhelmplatz,— decidedly the finest, as 
 well as the most fashionable square in the city. 
 I do not know what may be the exact dimen- 
 
 sions of the Wilhelmplatz ; but it struck me as 
 inclosing about as much of space as Berkley 
 Square, in London. Here dwell princes of the 
 blood, with others of the most illustrious of the 
 Prussian nobility; and here, as a necessary 
 consequence, each separate mansion may well 
 take rank among the palaces. Moreover, in 
 the Wilhelmplatz have been set up not a few 
 of the tributes which Prussia has paid to the 
 memories of her favourite heroes ; so that the 
 stranger sees collected together the statues of 
 Zeithen, Keith, Seidlitz, Schwerin, Winterfield. 
 Blucher, Bulow, and Gnesnau. Blucher and 
 Bulow have, to be sure, other and better monu- 
 ments in the bronze statues by Ranch, which 
 stand near the main-guar<iijet are they in the 
 Wilhelmplatz also, which thus contains effigies 
 of the most renowned chiefs, as well of the 
 Seven Years' War, as of the more recent War 
 of Deliverance. Such a square, and so orna- 
 mented, ought, one would suppose, to excite 
 only one feeling,-that of admiration. But it 
 is not so. The stranger observes, to his sorrow, 
 that there are no flagged trottoirs skirting 
 the streets ; that the streets themselves are 
 
66 
 
 GENERAL APPEAEANCB 
 
 OF BERLIN. 
 
 67 
 
 wretchedly paved ; and that, within the line of 
 statues there is a large parallelogram of loose 
 sand, where grooms exercise their masters' 
 horses, all day long. Not a morsel of grass is 
 there, by resting on which the jaded eye may 
 find repose; and hence, after a hasty glance 
 round, you turn away disappointed, as you 
 would from an enormous riding school. And 
 so it is in all the rest of the squares. Perfectly 
 flat, they lie out before you, like recently en- 
 closed portions from a sandy desert, on which, 
 as there has not been time to try experiments, 
 so no improvements have been effected. 
 
 Beriin, as we now find it, owes its existence 
 entirely to the will of Frederic the Great. 
 It arose, too, with the rapidity of thought; for 
 Frederic was not accustomed to brook delay in 
 the execution of his orders ; and what he said 
 ought to be done, was always done quickly. 
 A certain extent of country having been marked 
 out, the people were told that there the capital 
 of Prussia should be,— and there it accordingly 
 is. But one effect, among others, of so much 
 military haste was this,— that, distrusting their 
 ability to stock the new city with an adequate 
 
 supply of inhabitants, they who Pl^-d ^ade 
 it what it is, a city of vacant spaces. Streets 
 remarkable for their length and width and 
 skirted by houses which extend their fronts 
 like a regiment which has wheeled into hue, 
 after losing its distances in the march, bear 
 testimony to the fact, that there is at least one 
 capital in Europe which stands free from the 
 offence of over-population. Again, Berlm is 
 remarkable, above all the European capitals 
 which I have visited, for the absence of attrac- 
 tive shops, and the air of universal indolence 
 that hangs over it. In the old town, indeed 
 the ancient abode of the Electors, men do move 
 about as if they had an object in moving; and 
 along the banks of the Spree, which divides the 
 old town from the new, there is some show of 
 business ; for even the odd-looking flat-bot- 
 tomed boats which navigate that river, require 
 the hand of man to load and discharge their 
 cargoes. But elsewhere, whether you pass to 
 the right or to the left, you find yourself,- 
 away from the magnificent Unter den Linden,- 
 in solitude. No carriages rattle past; no wag- 
 gons drag their dull lengths along ; no pedes- 
 
 |tii :;# 
 
 I. , 
 
;;!^iSSSS;:0$£ISsmi^ 
 
 AND MUSEUM. 
 
 69 
 
 68 
 
 THE PALACE, 
 
 trians jostle you. To the extent of a mile you 
 may gaze along a street, regular as a canal in 
 Holland, and not less level, without being able 
 to detect, in all its extent, half a dozen living 
 
 creatures. 
 
 I am not going to describe, nor even to 
 enumerate, the various objects, towards which 
 the stranger, after having taken off the keen 
 edge of his curiosity, will, as a matter of duty, 
 direct his attention. Among these will, of 
 course, be numbered the Schloss, or Palace ; a 
 pile more remarkable for its extent than its 
 elegance ; with its state rooms, and gallery, and 
 cabinets of odds and ends, including a waxen 
 image of the great Frederic, clothed in the 
 uniform which he wore while living, and seated 
 in the very chair in which he died. Beside 
 him, on a table, lie two or three books, his 
 flute, his walking-cane, and pocket-handker- 
 chief,— the latter a filthy rag, patched and 
 darned in many places, yet every way worthy of 
 the coat to which it used to be appended. In 
 the same apartment are exhibited the model of 
 a windmill, constructed by the hands of Peter 
 the Great ; the decorations presented to Napo- 
 
 
 leon by the various sovereigns of Europe, among 
 ^hom the king of England was not one ; his 
 hat, captured, like these baubles, during the 
 flight from Waterloo, when his carriage, with 
 all its contents, fell into Blucher's hands ; the 
 orders worn by Blucher himself, the camp- 
 chair of Gustavus'Adolphus, and a collection 
 of tobacco pipes, intrinsically of small value, 
 which once belonged to the father of the great 
 Frederic. I say nothing of Chinese robes. 
 South American lassos, Japanese weapons, 
 cloaks made of feathers, and tattooed heads of 
 New Zealanders. These, or such as these, may 
 be found in almost all extensive museums. But 
 the historical collection, of which the articles 
 first enumerated form a portion, is, indeed 
 very curious, and will amply repay the loss of 
 time which may be dedicated to its inspection. 
 In this extensive edifice, of which only a 
 small portion is set apart for the accommodation 
 of these and other works of art, the king of 
 Prussia never resides. His courts and levees of 
 state he necessarily holds there ; but his home 
 is a small and unassuming mansion, not far from 
 the Arsenal, in the Unter den Linden, where he 
 
70 
 
 THE NEW MUSEUM 
 
 indulges those habits of unostentatious privacy 
 to which circumstances, more perhaps than any 
 natural taste, have long addicted him. Mean- 
 while, though following the bent of his own 
 humours in the management of his domestic 
 concerns, he has never ceased to promote as 
 well the splendour of his capital, as what he 
 believes to be the best interests of his subjects. 
 Some of the noblest buildings in the city owe 
 both their existence and their happy adaptation 
 to the uses for which they were designed, to 
 his munificence. Among these the new Mu- 
 seum, built after a design by Schinkel, and 
 completed so recently as the year 1830, de- 
 serves especially to be noticed. It is a very 
 beautiful structure, resting, like our own Cus- 
 tom-House, upon piles, and judiciously arranged 
 for the reception, in its three compartments, of 
 three different collections. On the ground 
 floor, are vases and bronzes, some of them of 
 rare value, and the former at least well classi- 
 fied, and arranged on mirror tables. On the 
 second floor, is the sculpture gallery, which you 
 approach through a circular hall, the admirable 
 proportions and highly ornamented ceiling of 
 
 AND PICTUEE GALLERY. 
 
 71 
 
 which are exceedingly striking ; and finally, the 
 gallery of paintings, occupying the third, or 
 loftiest story of all, is not more remarkable for 
 the worth of the treasures which it contains, 
 than for the admirable order in which they are 
 arranged, and the facilities afforded for studying 
 them° I have neither the ability nor the inch- 
 nation to play the connoisseur, even so far as to 
 specify the pieces which pleased me most; and 
 if I had, my readers would not, I suspect, thank 
 me for indulging if, but thus much I must be 
 permitted to say -.-Thanks to the excellent 
 'arrangements of M. Waagen, who has distri- 
 buted the different paintings into the schools to 
 which they severally belong, and compiled a 
 catalogue which enables you to trace the pro- 
 gress of each, from its first beginnings to its 
 maturity, and so back to the period of Hs de- 
 cline —my recollection of the gallery at Berlin, 
 which I visited only once, is a thousand times 
 more vivid and more regular than that which 
 I retain of the collections either at Dresden or 
 Munich. I believe, indeed, that the gallery at 
 Berlin contains fewer gems by the great ma^ 
 ters than either of its rivals on the north of 
 
72 GOVERNMENT 
 
 the Alps ; but as a whole I question whether 
 it be not at least as inviting ; for if master- 
 pieces be more rare, mere daubs are more rare 
 also ; and the attention paid to the framing 
 and adjustment of the pictures is in Berlin 
 more conspicuous than I have observed any- 
 where else, Munich itself not excepted. 
 
 To give to these things the notice which they 
 deserve, and to visit the Egyptian Museum, the 
 Arsenal, the great China Manufactory, the Royal 
 Library, the University, the Iron Foundry, 
 with the other shows, kut i^oxv^, to which the 
 lacquai du place is sure to conduct him, will 
 fully and agreeably fill up all the hours which 
 a traveller can spare from other and not less 
 interesting investigations. Judging from my 
 own feelings, however, I am inclined to suspect 
 that after he has seen all, he will scarce believe 
 that his object in visiting Berlin has been 
 attained. Prussia is not, like Italy, a land to 
 which men repair for the mere purpose of 
 breathing an atmosphere of poetry and romance. 
 You cannot live here in a world of imagination, 
 nor forget both the present and the future in 
 the past. The questions which most earnestly 
 
 OF PRUSSIA. 
 
 73 
 
 .11. 
 
 force themselves upon your attention are, on 
 the contrary, such as affect the moral and 
 political condition and prospects of a large 
 number of your fellow creatures. Do I make 
 myself understood ? If not, let me endeavour 
 to dispel the obscurity by making a transcript 
 of the impressions which a brief, but not a 
 careless sojourn in the Prussian capital produced 
 upon my own mind. 
 
 There can be no doubt whatever that Prussia 
 presents in all its departments the visible marks 
 of what is called generally, and perhaps justly, 
 a well-regulated state. Its government, though 
 strong, is rarely oppressive ; that is to say, the 
 amount of practical liberty enjoyed by the 
 subject is as great as men need desire. No 
 human being is restricted from going to and fro 
 at pleasure ; for tlie passport which is necessary 
 to bear him harmless with the police, the autho- 
 rities never refuse, unless the party applying 
 for it be known as a mischievous character. 
 The privacy of no man's house is ever wantonly 
 invaded. AVhatever the bent of his genius 
 m.ay be, each citizen is free to indulge it, so 
 lono- as the community takes no hurt from its 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 E 
 
74 EaUALTTY OF BIGHTS. 
 
 A lifp and property are every- 
 indulffence; and me ana i^ i j 
 
 :t« a. secre n, an efficient roll- can «*e 
 
 Them. Moreover .here no longer ex,,.s « 
 
 ^-^r. "hpfwoen the man ot 
 odious line of demarcation between 
 
 noble birth and the plebeian, ^vh.ch, at a date 
 lot very distant, restricted the enjoyn. nt of 
 :;ces If honour and trust exclu^i- y ^ *^^^ 
 former class. The mechanic, by dmt of ndu 
 ; and s.ill, may no. raise himself to distmc 
 tion- the merchant may purchase land, the 
 boor' may attain to rankin the army, govem- 
 
 Jnts, secretaryships, the administration of 
 r;. ments. Judgeships, aye, and a share m 
 th king's confidence and councils, all are op n 
 'be :ompeted for by talent, and integrity 
 and zeal. I do not mean to say that, in point 
 of fact, the nobles do not continue to engross 
 by far the larger share of these preferments I 
 J quite natural that they should. But the 
 theory of the constitution recognises no such 
 generic difference between the -^^^ ^ ^ ^ 
 peasant, as that the former should be cu off from 
 !u hope of prizes .hich he. it. n the -h 
 
 of the latter •,-though the noble m Prussia, 
 just as in England and elsewhere, enjoys advan- 
 
 EDUCATION. 
 
 75 
 
 tages in the race, which, in nine cases out of 
 ten, enable him to leave his more humbly-born 
 competitor behind. 
 
 Again, the anxiety of the ruler to diffuse 
 intelligence through all orders and degrees of 
 his subjects, is striking and praiseworthy. The 
 people are not only encouraged but compelled 
 to send their children to the schools, with one 
 of which each parish is provided; and the 
 slightest irregularity of attendance on the part 
 of the pupils is sure to bring down punishment 
 on their parents. Nor is it to the conferring of 
 the mere elementary branches of education, — 
 to the care with which it is provided that no 
 Prussian shall lack the opportunity of learning 
 to read, and write, and keep accounts, — that the 
 attention of the government is restricted. The 
 capital, at least, contains seminaries in which 
 young men are gratuitously instructed in the 
 principles of the art or trade which they design 
 to follow; and the results are, that in many 
 mechanical operations, particularly in the cast- 
 ing of iron, modelling, and such like, they have 
 attained in Berlin to a degree of excellence 
 which we shall scarcely find equalled elsewhere. 
 
 e2 
 
76 
 
 ENCOURAGEMENT 
 
 OF LEARNING. 
 
 77 
 
 In all this we perceive the exact intermix- 
 ture of liberality and arbitrary power, which 
 we might expect to find in the proceedings of 
 a government, anxious, indeed, to promote the 
 well-being of its subjects of every class, yet 
 nowise disposed to abate one jot of its own 
 claim to unlimited and unquestioning obedi- 
 ence. Knowledge, for example, is not only 
 rendered accessible, but it is forced upon the 
 people ; they must learn something, because it 
 is the will of their rulers that they should not 
 be wholly ignorant. But while the law inter- 
 feres only so far as to render the acquisition of 
 the humblest species of lore obligatory, the 
 munificence of the monarch affords every con- 
 ceivable facility to such as may desire to pro- 
 secute their researches further. In the Gwerbe 
 Schule and Architectural Academy, the ambi- 
 tious mechanic will find ample means of 
 gratifying his thirst for improvement; in the 
 University the means and appliances of study 
 have been afforded, without any regard to 
 expense. The collections in botany and mine- 
 ralogy, the anatomical preparations, the museum 
 of natural history, and the zoological specimens. 
 
 are all perfect in their degree, and all stand 
 open to the inspection of the students. And 
 as these various helps and aids to learning 
 would be useless, were competent masters 
 wanting to direct the studies of the youth, so 
 no efforts have been spared to bring together 
 such a body of professors as should ensure to 
 Berlin the distinction, which she actually enjoys, 
 of taking rank, though the youngest, at the 
 very head of the German universities. 
 
 All this, be it observed, is the exclusive work 
 of the government; which, in the person of 
 the reigning monarch, does not stop short even 
 here. Not only are learned professors encou- 
 raged to lecture in the schools, but they are 
 treated wherever they go, with marked kind- 
 ness and respect. How Wolff carried his point 
 in fixing the seat of the university in the 
 capital, I need not pause to explain ; nor yet 
 record the deference which, on all occasions, 
 has been shown to him. Humboldt and Raumer 
 are the king's personal friends, — the former 
 occupying apartments in the palace, and rarely 
 separating from his* royal patron. Savigny, 
 Ritter, Passalacqua, Miiller, are names duly 
 
TRADING LICENSES. 
 
 79 
 
 78 
 
 MILITARY ACADEMY. 
 
 honoured and revered. In like manner the 
 MiUtary Academy of Berlin may stand a com- 
 parison with any similar institution in the 
 world. If, indeed, it have a fault, the impartial 
 observer is apt to say, that the course of study 
 is too severe, and the discipline too rigid. But 
 these are errors on the right side ; more espe- 
 cially when we perceive, as in this instance we 
 unquestionably do, that the routine of duty is 
 carried forward without the smallest respect to 
 persons. The son of the noble must undergo 
 the same privations, and exercise the same 
 unwearied application, with the son of the poor 
 subaltern, and to both is promotion awarded 
 as the recompense of diligence, and good con- 
 duct, and talent alone. 
 
 I have alluded to the spirit of impartiality 
 with which advancement in the Military Aca- 
 demy is awarded ; let it not be supposed that 
 the same spirit fails to operate elsewhere. In 
 the regulations which affect men's civil callings 
 and professions, in the administration of justice, 
 in the management of commerce, the most 
 prying eye will fail to discover in Prussia the 
 slightest bias in favour either of classes or of 
 
 individuals. Some of these regulations may 
 appear to us impolitic; others, perhaps, ludi- 
 crously absurd ; but there is nothing in them 
 which can convict the government of a dispo- 
 sition to deal loosely with the rule of right. 
 For example, whatever walk of civil life a 
 man may desire to follow, it is necessary that 
 he should obtain a license, and he pays for it, 
 on a classified scale, a fixed annual tribute to 
 the government. We may smile, if we please, 
 when we are told, that the physician, the notary, 
 the carpenter, the slop-seller, the butcher, the 
 brewer, the baker, and the vendor of drugs, are 
 all, like hawkers and pedlars among ourselves, 
 required to take out licenses. We may come 
 to the conclusion, that in abolishing the system 
 of guilds, it would have been more wise, as well 
 as more liberal, to have done so absolutely, 
 than to supplant it by a device so clumsy as 
 the present. Still, nothing can be charged 
 against the impartiality of the government, 
 which takes every species of civil occupation 
 alike under its care, and causes the member of 
 a liberal profession to be registered, and cer- 
 tificated, and licensed, with the very same 
 
80 
 
 ADMINISTRATION 
 
 OF JUSTICE. 
 
 81 
 
 strictness which it applies to the worker in a 
 common trade*. 
 
 Nothing can be more pure, nothing more 
 free even from the stain of suspicion, than the 
 administration of justice, whether in criminal 
 or civil cases, throughout Prussia. Among the 
 provincial judges and magistrates there may be, 
 
 * Tlic nature of the change which was effected in this 
 department of the fiscal affairs of Prussia, has been so ably 
 stated by Mr. Russell, that I have experienced a good deal 
 of reluctance to touch upon it at all ; yet will the allusions 
 in the text be quite unintelligible unless I go farther. 
 The facts, then, are these :— Under the old system, that is, 
 prior to the year 1818, every trade and profession in Prus- 
 sia was exercised in the several towns and districts, subject 
 to the control of its own guild. Thus, he who desired to 
 set up as a baker in Spandau, must apply for and obtain 
 his license from the corporation of bakers there ; which 
 license, if he removed to another town, would be of no use to 
 him. He must needs obtain a fresh certificate there, other- 
 wise he could not sell bread. This, as a grievous check upon 
 industry, the Chancellor Hardenberg set aside. Yet ho 
 was not liberal enough to go the whole length of throwing 
 trades and professions open ; so he substituted for the 
 guildries a process which makes it necessary for the aspirant 
 first to obtain a certificate from the authorities in the 
 province where he resides, and then to take out a license 
 at Berlin. The amount of revenue realised from these 
 licenses has been calculated at 1,973,000 dollars per 
 annum. 
 
 I. 
 
 «■-# 
 
 here and there, a deficiency of intelligence ; for 
 the provincial judges and magistrates are elected 
 by the people, and hold office for three years 
 only. But against their integrity I never heard 
 that a charge was brought, or that their beha- 
 viour, in any case, laid them open to it. In 
 Berlin, on the other hand, we find not only a 
 thorough acquaintance with the law, but an 
 immovable purpose to be guided by it in all 
 their decisions. And though the appointments 
 there emanate directly from the crown, and are 
 known to be revokable at the will of the 
 minister, it does not appear that this conside- 
 ration has the smallest eifect upon the minds 
 of -the persons holding them. The fact indeed 
 is, that in Prussia, as well as in England, it 
 must ever be the policy of the government to 
 keep the great stream of justice undisturbed. 
 Cases may, perhaps, occur in both countries, 
 where an arbitrary monarch or minister might 
 desire to crush an enemy, or obtain possession 
 of an estate ; but these, in the nature of things, 
 must be of rare occurrence; and for their 
 occurrence, in the adjustment of a matter so 
 important, no provision can be made. He would 
 
 £3 
 
 V 
 
 4 
 
82 
 
 POLITICAL OFFENDERS. 
 
 FORMER MILITARY SYSTEM. 
 
 83 
 
 be a very foolish, as well as a very wicked 
 prince, who could wish to see the judgment- 
 seat filled, except by persons proof against the 
 influence, as well of intimidation as of bribery. 
 Of the exact amount of salaries awarded either 
 to the supreme or the inferior judges, I cannot 
 speak. I only know that the former are paid 
 out of the treasury, while the latter derive 
 their emoluments from the rents of the borough 
 
 lands. 
 
 It will be distinctly understood that in thus 
 eulogizing the Prussian courts of justice, I 
 speak only of those which take cognizance of 
 cases in which politics are no wise mixed up. 
 For political offenders I am afraid that there 
 is not in Prussia, more than in other absolute 
 monarchies, any law whatever. He who is 
 suspected of plotting against the government- 
 he who is accused of disseminating dangerous 
 opinions, may be, and is, arrested without the 
 pretext of a process; and even if the esta- 
 blished tribunals pronounce him guiltless, his 
 release or farther confinement depends on the 
 mere will of the minister. In like manner I 
 ofer no opinion as to the working of the Code 
 
 i 
 
 Napoleon, which still exists in the Rhenish 
 provinces, and is by them warmly admired. 
 But the ordinary tribunals of Prussia Proper 
 are all, as I have stated, free from taint ; and 
 as such command the respect of the people to 
 the full as much as they secure the approbation 
 of a strictly honest sovereign. 
 
 While the civil affairs of the country are 
 thus managed, those of its military establish- 
 ments go on upon a plan of which the Prussians 
 themselves are exceedingly proud, but concern- 
 ing the true merits of which the time for 
 judging fairly has not yet arrived. It is well 
 known that previously to the campaign of Jena, 
 the Prussian army was recruited and officered 
 according to the usages established by Frederic 
 the Great, and still to a certain extent acted 
 upon in Austria. Its ofiicers were taken exclu- 
 sively from the order of the noblesse, its ranks 
 filled up from a conscription, to which all 
 beneath the degree of the privileged class were 
 liable. The discipline, too, which pervaded the 
 mass thus brought together, was of the sternest 
 and most odious description. I say nothing of 
 the punishments, all of which were cruel in the 
 
 
\ 
 
 84- 
 
 FORMER MILITARY 
 
 extreme ; nor of the hopeless condition of the 
 soldier, who, once enrolled, knew that he must 
 serve on without a chance of promotion, till 
 health and strength failed him. But the system 
 of espionage which prevailed, the total absence 
 of confidence everywhere, the wanton and per- 
 petual interference with the men's proceedings, 
 as well when on duty as during their hours of 
 nominal relaxation; for the continued exis- 
 tence of these among a people neither naturally 
 vindictive nor unenlightened, it is as difficult to 
 account, as it is to assign a reasonable cause for 
 their origin. I am not unaware that even 
 among ourselves there used to be, perhaps still 
 are, officers so short-sighted as to believe, that 
 the best antidote to discontent and crime in an 
 army, is to keep the soldier for ever occupied 
 about something connected with his profession. 
 According to the theory of these persons, bright 
 barrels, highly polished pouches, belts that re- 
 quire constant cleaning, every species of accou- 
 trement, in short, which may contribute to fur- 
 nish work for the soldier off duty, is the best of 
 its kind that can be served out to a regiment. 
 As to the encouragement of a taste for reading. 
 
 H 
 
 SYSTEM OF PRUSSIA. 
 
 85. 
 
 or the promotion of manly and healthful sports 
 among the soldiers, these are scouted as the 
 sicklv'dreams of an enthusiast,— they never lead 
 to good. But mistaken as this view of a soldier's 
 position is, and eminently calculated to scare 
 all good men from assuming it, it is both wis- 
 dom and gentleness when compared with that 
 which the martinets of Frederic's school had 
 adopted. Previous to the reorganization of 
 the Prussian army in 1813, it was a received 
 axiom in camp and garrison, that a soldier was 
 never to be trusted. Rarely, indeed, was he 
 permitted to walk forth, except on duty, beyond 
 the outer line of tents, or the ditch of the for- 
 tress which he guarded ; and when, for some 
 pressing cause, such a privilege was extended 
 to hinChe did not enjoy it freely; for he was 
 followed wherever he went, by a spy, whom his 
 commanding officer directed to observe and 
 report on all his proceedings. And so cleverly 
 was the matter arranged, that, though each 
 individual was aware of the fact, few could 
 oue^s to whom the charge had been assigned 
 of watching his own particular movements. 
 The whole corps was made up of spies,— for 
 
86 
 
 PRESENT SYSTEM. 
 
 each was a spy upon his comrade. Can we 
 wonder that an army so managed should have 
 yielded as it did, to the more chivalrous valour 
 of the French troops? Is it not surprising 
 that it was capable of making any serious 
 resistance at all ? 
 
 The whole of this order of things has come 
 to an end. Rank and honour, and promotion 
 in the army, are open to all orders of the king's 
 subjects, nor is there any to which the conscrip- 
 tion does not extend. With the exception of 
 the clergy, the teachers of schools, persons in 
 the civil employment of the government, and 
 professors at the universities, all young men 
 between the ages of eighteen and twenty-six, 
 are liable to be drawn ; and all, when drawn, 
 must serve. Neither is the liability felt to 
 press with an overwhelming weight even upon 
 the young noble, — for the period of service in 
 the Prussian army is exceedingly short. A 
 youth quits his home, whether it be a palace or 
 a cottage, with little reluctance, who knows 
 that the law has condemned him to no more 
 than three years' servitude ; that, in all proba- 
 bility he will not be required to serve more 
 
 TERM OF SERVICE. 
 
 G7 
 
 than two, and that he may obtain his dismissal 
 in one. Yet such is the state of things m 
 Prussia. Except when attached to the artillery, 
 where the term extends to five, three years 
 constitute the utmost limit of service in the 
 regular army, which is almost always cur- 
 tailed, on the plea of furlough, to two ; and, m 
 the cases of noblemen, never exceeds one year 
 as a private soldier. Not that the youth, thus 
 licrhtly dealt with, is authorised to regard 
 himself as set free from the moral obligation 
 of serving his country when required. The 
 soldier discharged from the line falls back into 
 the Landwehr,-a militia, which assembles by 
 regiments and companies within specified dis- 
 tricts once in every year ; and last of all, when 
 
 too old for this force, he becomes one of the 
 Arriere-ban, or war-reserve. Thus, from the 
 commencement of his manhood till its vigour 
 forsake him, the Prussian is liable to mihtary 
 service, though the period of his separation 
 from the endearments of home is, except in 
 time of war, too brief trf be complained of as 
 
 a hardship. 
 
 The obvious effect of this system is, to render 
 
OF THE SYSTEM. 
 
 89 
 
 88 
 
 ADVANTAGES 
 
 Prussia a nation of soldiers, not alone by keep- 
 ing alive in its population the military spirit for 
 which they have long been celebrated, but by 
 resting it on a foundation so secure that it 
 seems impossible to shake it. Its advantages 
 are, that you can never be at a loss for men 
 when you require them ; and that the profes- 
 sion of a soldier, instead of being, as with us, 
 looked down upon, is, in Prussia, viewed with 
 marked favour among all classes. For though 
 the nominal pay be trifling,— somewhere about 
 three-pence a day .for the infantry, and five- 
 pence for the cavalry,— the contingent benefits 
 are such as to place almost the whole of this 
 pittance at the soldier's disposal; and three- 
 pence or five-pence a day to spend, is a larger 
 sum than an ordinary mechanic or labourer can 
 usually command. Again, the peasant is never 
 reluctant to go when drawn, because he can 
 look forward with confidence to his discharge 
 in two years ; and is assured, during these two 
 years, of treatment as gentle as is compatible 
 with the preservation of military discipline. 
 Moreover, the intermixture of high and low, 
 and rich and poor, which a conscription so con- 
 
 ducted effects in the ranks of every regiment, 
 has a marked and most beneficial influence in 
 re<^ulating the tone and manners of the soldiery. 
 Drunkenness is a crime very little known in 
 the Prussian army ; theft is still more rare ; 
 and where drunkenness and theft seldom or 
 never occur, discipline may always be carried 
 on without severity. And it is so carried on 
 in Prussia. Punishments there doubtless are, 
 such as imprisonment and working in chains ; 
 but for the lash there is no occasion, and I do 
 not find that it is ever applied. 
 
 To counterbalance these excellences, how- 
 ever, there is one grave and serious drawback, 
 which, though at present it be lightly thought 
 of, must, in case of war, make itself felt. You 
 cannot have, by any exertion on the part of 
 your officers, a veteran army. Before your 
 recruit is well versed in his duties, the term of 
 his service expires, and you have all your labour 
 to go through again with his successor. Now 
 this tells not only against the private soldier, 
 but against the officer. The former has not 
 advanced beyond the elements of his education, 
 ere he is transferred to a body, which, meeting 
 
90 
 
 DISADVANTAGES. 
 
 in arms for no more than fourteen days in each 
 year, can furnish but few opportunities of im- 
 provement. If he hold the ground which he 
 had gained, in other words, if he forget not the 
 lessons learned during his brief apprenticeship 
 in the line, it is as much as you have a right to 
 expect from him. So also the latter, like a 
 schoolmaster, who is incessantly engaged in 
 teaching children their alphabet, or the simplest 
 rules of grammar, either grows disgusted with 
 his profession, or falls into the error of believing 
 that to drill a squad, or at most to manoeuvre a 
 battalion, is all that is necessary to arrive at 
 eminence. No doubt the Prussian regiments 
 look remarkably well when formed in line, or 
 open or close columns. They are composed of 
 the very ilower of the people, and are all young 
 men ; their dress is at once the neatest and the 
 most convenient in Europe ; and there is about 
 them a sort of Bobadil swagger, which, if it be 
 not allowed to run wild entirely, is best encou- 
 raged among soldiers. But their marching is 
 indifferent, their style of doing duty that of 
 irregulars, and their manoeuvring not more 
 perfect than every military man would expect 
 
 DISADVANTAGES. 
 
 n 
 
 it to be under similar circumstances. In an 
 axrtive war, you may form good troops out of 
 stout rustics, after one or two campaigns ; but 
 all the zeal in the world will not convert the 
 said rustics into good troops, by a couple of 
 years spent in the sort of training for which 
 alone peace affords an opportunity. 
 
 The Prussians in general, I mean the govern- 
 ment and the nation, seem weU pleased mth 
 the system; and I am not surprised at the 
 circumstance. For it is an economical one ; it 
 renders the military service popular, and it 
 seems to have the effect of binding the different 
 orders of society in a friendly chain together. 
 It is not, I suspect, so popular among the old 
 and most experienced of the Prussian officers. 
 These latter complain, that, especially ip the 
 cavalry and artillery services, its effects are 
 most mischievous. The first arm, they say, is 
 yery awkward even to the last; for men are 
 seldom put upon their horses under a year, and 
 another year is required to perfect them m 
 all the mysteries of the manage. And for the 
 last, though men serve in the artillery, or are 
 assumed to serve, during five years, it is quite 
 
92 
 
 GENERAL 
 
 inefficient. For you do not change all at once 
 in any of the branches of the army, so as to 
 have a body of recruits the first year, men half- 
 trained the next, and by the end of the third, a 
 force tolerably effective. But the process of 
 discharge and enrolment is going on perpe- 
 tually, and you are left by it at all moments in 
 the predicament of a builder, who, out of a 
 mass of materials, excellent if moulded into 
 shape, cannot find bricks enough with which to 
 carry on his operations. The Prussian army, 
 as it now exists, is not only unfit to take the 
 field, but can scarce furnish drilled soldiers 
 suflScient to do the ordinary duties of its many 
 fortified places. 
 
 It will be seen that the defects attending this 
 system, though of the gravest and most mo- 
 mentous kind, all resolve themselves into this, 
 — that the period of service required from the 
 young men is too brief. Lengthen that term 
 to seven years for the cavalry, to five for the 
 infantry, to ten for the artillery, and the evils 
 would be removed. In other respects, a 
 wiser and more patriotic principle than that 
 on which the military arrangements of Prussia 
 
 I 
 
 OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 93 
 
 
 are founded, cannot be conceived. From its 
 exposed situation, from the great extent of its 
 frontier, from the scattered and isolated position 
 of several of its ' dependencies, it is necessary 
 that Prussia should always be in a state of 
 preparation for war ; in other words, that the 
 army should be numerous, efficient, and ready 
 for action. And it is surely better for the 
 people that this should be accomplished by a 
 general diffusion among themselves of a military 
 spirit, than that one portion of their body should 
 be exclusively trained to arms, and so kept as 
 an instrument for depressing as well as for 
 defending the other. I do not mean to say 
 that the Prussian army, as now organised, 
 would fail to support the king against any 
 attempt on the part of his subjects to wring 
 from him what is called a constitution. But 
 I am greatly deceived if any efforts on his part, 
 were he wild enough to make them, would 
 convert it into an engine with which to arrest 
 the progress of national improvement. 
 
 It is not for me to enter upon a considera- 
 tion of the policy of those measures which the 
 Prussian government has recently adopted with 
 
94 
 
 THE PRUSSIAN 
 
 a Tiew to place upon a better footing the 
 commercial relations of its own with other 
 countries. The League, as it is called, may or 
 may not have been intended as a check upon 
 British enterprise ; but if it were, it has entirely 
 failed in its object. From all that I could learn, 
 the imports from England, at least in the finer 
 branches of manufacture, are just as large and 
 as important as ever they were. Meanwhile 
 the traveller derives this decided advantage 
 from the arrangement, that, having once passed 
 the frontier of any one of the states which 
 have given in their adhesion to the commercial 
 treaty, he may go through the whole of the 
 confederation without being subjected to the 
 inconvenience of a search. Besides, is not 
 Prussia justified in using her best endeavours 
 to encourage the growth of manufactures upon 
 her own soil? and may she not, having this 
 object in view, guard, to the utmost of her 
 power, against the importation of goods manu- 
 factured elsewhere, which are at once better 
 and cheaper than those which her own artisans 
 are as yet able to produce, and are therefore sure 
 to be bought up and consumed in preference to 
 
 
 COMMERCIAL LEAGUE. 
 
 95 
 
 the home fabrication? Such, however, is the 
 head and front of that offending for which I 
 have heard her severely blamed by persons who 
 ought to have known better ; and the system 
 on which she acts is surely unjust towards 
 nobody. She has agreed with Saxony, Bavaria, 
 Wurtemburg, and several other of the smaller 
 states, that the customs levied on exciseable 
 goods shall be the same in each ; that such as 
 are manufactured in any one of the states shall, 
 on payment of the fixed duty at home, pass free 
 of farther charge through all ; and that the 
 duty imposed on manufactured goods im- 
 ported from abroad shall very much exceed 
 in amount that which is imposed on a similar 
 species of goods manufactured at home. If 
 the governments or people of the states so 
 dealt with are content, who has a right to com- 
 plain ? For this is not the whole that she has 
 done in reference to this matter. In order that 
 all may share alike in the produce of the excise, 
 she has made arrangements that, of the duties 
 collected on the frontier of the commercial 
 union, an exact account shall be taken, and 
 that the proceeds shall be divided among the 
 
96 
 
 COMMERCIAL LEAGUE. 
 
 several confederated powers, in shares propor- 
 tionate to the amount of their respective popu- 
 lations. There is at least perfect impartiality 
 here towards those with whom she is confede- 
 rated, and of those with whom she is not, she 
 takes, as she ought to take, no account what- 
 
 ever. 
 
 97 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 RELIGION AND MORALS. STATE OP THE CHURCH. 
 
 SYSTEM OF NATIONAL EDUCATION. 
 
 I COME now to a point, in comparison with which 
 all others deserve to be regarded as insignificant, 
 — I mean, a consideration of the state of moral 
 and religious feeling in this great country ; and 
 of the means which are adopted by the civil 
 and ecclesiastical authorities, for the purpose of 
 elevating the former, and giving a wider and 
 a more salutary scope to the influence of the 
 latter. It will, I think, be admitted, that in 
 all other respects ample justice has been done 
 to the Prussian government. I have described 
 it as being, in the ordinary acceptation of the 
 words, paternal and wise ; strong no doubt, and 
 viery little disposed to become otherwise ; yet 
 willing and anxious to promote the prosperity 
 of the people, by opening out to their industry 
 the freest channels, and encouraging the growth 
 of intelligence among them. I wish that I 
 were in a condition to add, that like judgment 
 VOL. L F 
 

 w 
 
 98 
 
 RELIGION 
 
 has been displayed in the measures adopted to 
 render them a moral and a religious people. 
 Let me not, however, be misunderstood. I do 
 not wish to represent the Prussian government 
 as in any respect discountenancing religion, or 
 the Prussian people as utterly depraved. I 
 believe, on the contrary, that the wishes of the 
 first are all sound and wholesome, and that the 
 last, considered in the mass, are quite as moral 
 as most of their neighbours that belong to the 
 same great family. Intoxication, for example, 
 is the reverse of frequent among the Prussians, 
 and even the street-quarrels of the lowliest 
 classes generally evaporate in words. But in 
 other respects I do not find that the moral tie 
 holds them with too tight a pressure. I had 
 occasion to inquire of one whose opportunities 
 of judging were excellent, how Berlin, and 
 indeed^Prussia in general, might in this respect 
 be accounted of? and I received an answer, 
 which I give almost in his own words :— « Ber- 
 lin," said he, " is a scene of constant intrigue. 
 We don't all drink, we don't all play,— but we 
 all intrigue. From the prince to the peasant, 
 each has his afaire ctamour in hand, and we 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 I 
 
 AND MORALS. 
 
 99 
 
 care very little though all the world should 
 know it. Of the rest of Prussia I am less 
 competent to speak ; but you will probably find 
 that what takes place in the capital, takes place 
 in the provinces also." 
 
 Startled by an avowal so candid, I became 
 naturally anxious to ascertain to what causes 
 my friend attributed a state of things, the evils 
 attending which he did not scruple to deplore. 
 In this respect, however, I found him either 
 less willing or less able to be communicative. 
 1 hinted at the mischievous tendency of the 
 law of divorce, but he would not agree with 
 me. "It was better," he said, "that every 
 facility should be afforded for the dissolution 
 of the marriage contract, than that persons 
 should live together unhappily." I asked, 
 whether there was no principle of religion in 
 the land, to operate as a check upon the indul- 
 gence of men's vicious humours. "Oh yes," 
 he replied, "we are a very religious people. 
 Don't you see a church in every parish? But 
 our religion takes no heed of such matters as 
 ^hese, and we should soon quarrel with it, if 
 it did." : 
 
 F2 
 
100 
 
 RELIGION 
 
 AND MORALS. 
 
 101 
 
 " And your clergy," continued I,—" are tliey 
 without weight enough to make their example 
 felt, even where their precepts may fail in secur- 
 ing attention 1" 
 
 « Our clergy," replied he, with a smile,— 
 « why, yes, they are very excellent people in 
 their way,— very good men, without doubt ; but 
 really no human being pays the slightest regard 
 either to what they say, or what they do." 
 
 « Well, but the Gospel, on which your reli- 
 gion professes to be founded,-is it quite held 
 at nought among you ?" 
 
 My answer was another smile, of which I 
 could not, without real pain, stop to analyze 
 the import. He immediately added, however, 
 as if conscious that he was treading upon 
 delicate ground, "The Gospels are by no means 
 slightly estimated among us. We all admit 
 that the code of morals taught in them is 
 perfect,-but-but-we don't profess to be 
 
 guided by it." 
 
 If I had held this conversation with a very 
 
 young, or a very ignorant person,— if a mere 
 
 man of pleasure, or (and the expression may, 
 
 perhaps, carry more weight with it,) a mere 
 
 i 
 
 man of the world, had so spoken to me ; — nay 
 if my own personal observations had not con- 
 firmed his statements, to an extent that was 
 very painful, — I should have been slow to give 
 them credit, even at the moment, and still 
 more slow to repeat them now. As it was, I 
 could only lament the existence of a state of 
 things so melancholy, and look round for causes 
 which might account for it. The result of 
 these inquiries I now proceed to lay before my 
 reader; praying that, before my views be 
 condemned, they may be judged with candour ; 
 and assuring him, that, as they have not been 
 taken up either lightly or in a spirit of preju- 
 dice, so am I quite ready to lay them down 
 again whenever I shall have been convinced 
 that they are founded in error. 
 
 There can be no greater mistake in the 
 science of morals, than that which confounds 
 the absence of crime, with the presence, among 
 a people, of an elevating and lofty principle of 
 rectitude. Crime, properly so called, can never 
 abound in a nation of which the government is 
 not feeble. Murder, robbery, swindling, drunk- 
 enness, tumults,— all these are cognizable by 
 
K 
 
 102 
 
 RELIGION 
 
 the police ; and where the police is so efficient 
 as it is in Prassia, it is not in the nature of 
 things chat they should be of frequent occur- 
 rence. But it do3S not therefore follow, that 
 the people who abstain from these offi^nces are 
 actuated by any high sense of right. The strong 
 arm of the law may force men to live peace- 
 ably ; but all the laws that were ever framed 
 cannot compel them to live purely or religi- 
 ously. Where purity and religion, however, 
 are at a discount, there can be no permanent 
 security even for the continued well-being of 
 the body politic. For a thousand accidents 
 may occur to diminish the vigour of the con- 
 trolling power, and in the event of that becom- 
 ing feeble, where are we ? I do not deny that 
 in Prussia crimes are comparatively rare ; and 
 I make this avowal in defiance of the fact, that 
 In 1 836 the proportion of persons committed 
 to prison in Berlin was as one to every fifteen 
 of its inhabitants. I am sure that at the pre- 
 sent moment there is no country in Euroi>e 
 which exhibits fewer symptoms of weakness. 
 But I know also that Prussia is not a religious 
 or a moral country in the just acceptation of 
 
 AND MORALS. 
 
 103 
 
 these terms, and hence that her greatness rests 
 upon a foundation of sand. How is this me- 
 lancholy fact to be accounted for ? 
 
 Wherever you find a goyemment avowedly 
 anxious to encourage the growth of religious 
 principles among its subjects, yet succeeding 
 only so far as to render them obedient to the 
 letter of its own laws, and at the same time 
 genemlly intelligent, you are driven to look for 
 the causes of a failure so distressing, in some 
 radical defect that attaches to the system by 
 which its designs are worked out. There never, 
 I firmly believe, lived a prince more sincerely 
 attached than WilHam Frederic of Prussia to 
 the religion of the Bible ; there has never been 
 expressed by any cabinet a more earnest desire 
 to have the religion of the Bible universally 
 obeyed, wherever the king's authority extends, 
 than by that which, since the termination of the 
 late war, has aided him with its councils. Yet 
 the religion of the Bible is not now, and for 
 many years back has never been, the standard 
 of faith and of morals within the Prussian 
 dominions. Why ?— Because, though laws are 
 framed to enforce the general education of 
 
I \ 
 
 i i i 
 
 104 
 
 STATE OF THE CHURCH 
 
 youth, though schools abound, and pastors are 
 numerous, both by the civil and ecclesiastical 
 authorities certain points have been overlooked, 
 the absence of which must render the labours, as 
 well of the schoolmaster as of the pastor, com- 
 paratively inefficient. The errors into which 
 the civil authorities have fallen, affect, of course, 
 rather the external constitution than the in- 
 ternal discipline of the church. The oversights 
 with which the ecclesiastical authorities are 
 chargeable, operate fatally upon things of still 
 higher moment. I shall endeavour, with as 
 much brevity as is consistent with the nature 
 of the subject, to explain what is meant by this 
 
 distinction. 
 
 It belongs to the civil government of every 
 country which acknowledges the necessity of a 
 religious training among the people, to provide 
 for their instruction an efficient clergy, either 
 by allotting a competent maintenance to each 
 minister out of the public funds, or by secur- 
 ing to them severally the quiet possession of 
 such endowments as private benevolence may 
 have set apart for them. In seeking to render 
 a clergy efficient, however, the two extremes of 
 
 IN PRUSSIA. 
 
 105 
 
 wealth and poverty will be avoided. A very 
 wealthy clergy, — a clergy universally rich, — are 
 almost sure to become universally indolent ; a 
 pauper clergy, — a clergy universally poor, — 
 can neither afford to devote their energies to 
 the high work of their calling, nor, in the pre- 
 sent state of society, will they command any- 
 where such a degree of respect as shall render 
 their exertions acceptable to those among 
 whom they are placed. In like manner the 
 prudent statesman, whose object it is to govern 
 by the help of religion, will take care so to 
 organize his clergy, that they shall not appear 
 to belong to any one order of the people ex- 
 clusively. I do not here wish to enter into 
 the question as to whether one form of eccle- 
 siastical polity be or be not conformable to 
 primitive usage. I am treating the matter as 
 one of human policy alone,— and I repeat, that 
 he must be a short-sighted statesman who can- 
 not perceive how superior is the efficiency of a 
 church, whose clergy pass to and fro on an 
 easy footing through the several gradations of 
 society, over that which restricts its ministers to 
 a companionship with one class only, whether 
 
 F 3 
 
 M 
 
 1 1 ijn. , .» i i iii[ l H^ 
 
i 
 
 5 
 
 m 
 
 STATE OF THE CHURCH 
 
 it be the highest or the lowest, or some class in- 
 termediate between the highest and the lowest 
 Again, I do not see how any statesman, 
 unless he have adopted the principle of volun- 
 taryism to its fullest extent, can hesitate to 
 admit that it is the duty of a government to 
 enter into au alliance with some one church or 
 sect in particular ; and having done so, to treat 
 that church or sect with a degree of deference 
 which he does not exhibit towards its rivals. 
 Let it bfe borne in mind that the civil govern- 
 ment supports a church, not as a means of 
 securing the eternal salvation of the subject,— 
 for with that consideration the civil govern- 
 ment has no concern,— but as an instrument 
 by which the subject may be moulded to obe- 
 dience, and industry, and good citizenship. 
 But the church can aid in accomplishing this 
 object only if it be seen to have the support 
 and countenance of the government. Let tie 
 government slight or oppress the church, or 
 appear indifferent as to the prevalence of her 
 doctrines, and she will very soon cease to be 
 an efficient engine in its hands. Am I then 
 arguing in favour of persecution? Or, failing 
 
 IN PRUSSIA. 
 
 Mf* 
 
 that, do I ^^sh to recommend, as becoming in 
 any government, a spirit of proselytism, with 
 which the civil government ought to have 
 nothing to do ? Surely not. Toleration can- 
 not be too ample or too complete. By what- 
 ever forms, or under whatever denominatiou, 
 men choose to worship the Creator, they have 
 a right to be protected in their worship, so 
 long as they do not outrage the feelings of 
 those around them : but the government which 
 goes farther than this, commits an error, of 
 which the consequences are much more serious 
 than may at first sight appear. 
 
 It is a question not yet decided, at least 
 among casuists, how far conformity to the reli- 
 gion of the state ought or not to be insisted 
 upon as a qualification for office under a Chris- 
 tian government. It may even be doubted 
 whether— this restriction once removed,— there 
 c^n anywhere be a state religion at all; but 
 granting that there can be such a religion, and 
 that dissenters from it ought not to be excluded 
 from places of honour and trust, I do not 
 exactly understand how the spirit of tolerance 
 can be carried further. For if you go on to 
 
 m 
 

 it ^ 'ill 
 
 1 1 
 
 I i 
 
 ! I 
 
 
 \ h 
 
 
 108 
 
 STATE OF THE CHURCH 
 
 say that the state shall take no cognizance of 
 religious opinions at all: that it shall give 
 salaries to the ministers of all denominations, 
 and place all denominations on a footing of 
 equality towards itself,— surely the principle 
 for which we have been contending is aban- 
 doned, and there is no national religion any- 
 where. JSIoreover religion so split up and 
 divided, cannot possibly be rendered subser- 
 vient to any one of the righteous purposes 
 which the government is supposed to have 
 in view. Pay the clergy of one denomination, 
 leaving the others to be supported by such 
 as voluntarily wait on their administration, 
 and you can afford to pay them decently. 
 Take all under your care, and as it is ira- 
 possible to place limits to the caprice of men, 
 you will in due time have such a multitude 
 making demands upon your bounty, that your 
 allowances to each must, of necessity, be- 
 come meagre in the extreme. Thus you will 
 acquire by degrees a pauperized clergy, — the 
 greatest bane with which a country can be 
 visited ; while at the same time you create a 
 belief among the laity, that, in point of fact, 
 
 IN PRUSSIA. 
 
 109 
 
 religion has no value in your eyes. How, 
 indeed, can a government pretend to have the 
 smallest regard for truth, (and truth and reli- 
 gion are one and the same thing,) which 
 equally countenances the Protestant Episco- 
 palian, the Presbyterian, the Papist, the Inde- 
 pendent, the follower of the Greek church, 
 the Jew, and the Mahommedan. It is quite 
 clear, that if these opposing parties have any 
 one principle in common, it must be that they 
 all inculcate known fables as truths ; for their 
 differences, in other respects, are so many 
 and so great, that they cannot equally deserve 
 the countenance of any rational being. How, 
 then, is the government, which treats all as 
 equally entitled to its respect, to escape the 
 charge of utter indifference on the subject of 
 religion? And be it observed that I am not 
 pretending to decide which shall, and shall not, 
 be treated as the true religion. My reasoning 
 goes no further than this, — that some one sect 
 will, by a wise government, be selected ; and 
 that, in the spirit of the creed taught by that 
 sect, will all its public arrangements which 
 affect the religion of the people be guided. 
 
'WSss- 
 
 •!( 
 
 \ I 
 
 S ( 
 
 ) i 
 
 ! i 
 
 1 1 
 
 110 
 
 STATE OF THE CHURCH 
 
 For religion in the abstract is a nonentity; 
 and the religion of the Bible, as it is called, 
 is nothing else than religion in the abstra<;t. 
 Men must be trained in infancy to worship God 
 after some set forms, and to read the Scriptures 
 according to some established system, otherwise 
 it is much to be feared that they will soon cease 
 to worship at all, and that the word of God 
 will become valueless in their eyes. 
 
 Let me apply this reasoning to the moral 
 and religious condition of Prussia. In Prussia 
 the clergy are universally poor. The living of 
 Spandau, one of the richest in the kingdom, 
 brings in an annual revenue of only two hun- 
 dred Frederic d'ors, or one hundred and fifty 
 or sixty pounds of our money. In the country 
 places, such is the depressed state of the clergy, 
 that they are obliged, in many instances, to eke 
 out their slender incomes by working in the 
 fields like day-labourers. Again, though the 
 state religion of Prussia be Protestant, (for the 
 distinctions between Lutheran and Calvinist 
 are now forgotten,) such is the liberality of the 
 government, that in parishes where the majority 
 of the inhabitants profess the Romish faith, a 
 
 IN PRUSSIA. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Romish priest draws the stipend, and occupies 
 both the church and the glebe-house. Here, 
 then, we have the two great evils already referred 
 to, — a clergy universally pauperized, and a state 
 religion not fairly countenanced by the state. 
 What is the consequence ? 
 
 If the Prussian clergy were far more learned 
 than they are,— and I am willing to allow that 
 there is a prodigious mass of learning among 
 them,— if their habits of life, instead of being 
 those of the recluse, were, in point of activity 
 and energy, all that their office requires,— it 
 seems next to impossible, that, labouring under 
 such palpable disadvantages, they should ever 
 acquire the smallest influence within the do- 
 mestic circles of their parishioners. Cut off by 
 their poverty from associating with the higher 
 classes, and separated from the lower by the 
 superior cultivation of their intellects, they 
 may be eloquent in their pulpits, and able, and 
 even orthodox at their desks, yet produce little 
 effect for good upon the public mind, or the 
 public morals. For it is neither by their 
 preaching, nor by their writing, that the minis- 
 ters of religion most effectually serve the pur- 
 
 I 
 
:p 
 
 1 1 
 
 • ill 
 
 112 
 
 STATE OF THE CHURCH 
 
 pose for which the state provides them with a 
 subsistence. It is in the daily intercourse of 
 life,_in the domiciliary visits which they pay 
 to the cottages of the poor,— by the tone 
 which they give to general society wherever 
 they join in it, that the best opportunities are 
 afforded to them of moulding the opinions of 
 those around them, because it is in such situa- 
 tions that they best succeed in earning the 
 respect of their neighbours ; and I need not 
 add, that the precepts of religion never carry 
 with them half so much weight as when they 
 come to uS from those whom we both know 
 and estimate rightly. But this can never be 
 the case in a country where the political position 
 of the clergy is such, that a noble house would 
 feel itself disgraced, were one of its poorest 
 scions to enter into holy or.lers; where the 
 emoluments of office are so wretched, and the 
 condition of the pastor so humble, that the very 
 peasants scarce look on the last with respect, or 
 to the first as an object of ambition. It is better, 
 however, to describe in detail, than to go on with 
 a general line of reasoning. The following is a 
 correct sketch of what befel when I paid a visit 
 
 f 
 
 IN PRUSSIA. 
 
 113 
 
 to the incumbent of a country parish, certainly 
 neither the poorest nor the most secluded 
 within the limits of the Prussian dominions. 
 
 The parsonage-house stood close to the parish 
 church. It was a straggling, old-fashioned 
 edifice, with a paved court in front, and a gar- 
 den and orchard behind. The walls were very 
 dingy, and both they and the tiles gave evidence 
 that the hand of repair seldom touched them ; 
 and the court-yard was neither clean nor well 
 kept. When I entered, I found two women, 
 one elderly, the other young, feeding some 
 poultry. They were dressed in the humblest 
 style, as if accustomed to such operations, and 
 I naturally concluded that they were the pastor's 
 servants. I was mistaken. The one was his 
 wife, the other his daughter ; and as the good 
 man kept no domestic, except a little girl, by 
 them were all the menial offices of the house- 
 hold performed. I entered. German houses, 
 in general, are not what we should call well- 
 furnished ; that is to say, you need not expect 
 to find, even in the palaces of the nobility, 
 carpets on the floors, or an air of luxurious ease 
 anywhere ; but this poor man seemed to have 
 
 ! 1 
 
 1 ■■ I 
 
 'llllin 
 
i I 
 
 nil 
 
 i 
 
 m < m 
 
 ii 
 
 ■ ! 
 
 114 
 
 STATE OF THE CHURCH 
 
 hardly any furniture at all. His room— and it 
 was a spacious one — contained a chest of 
 drawers, a small round deal table, a few chairs 
 with wooden seats, and a porcelain stove. He 
 had just finished dinner, for it was one o'clock, 
 and the remains of the feast stood before him ; 
 namely, a large basin of the thinnest soup, 
 something which I mistook for suet dumplings, 
 a morsel of bouille done to tatters, and a plate 
 of sour crout. His drink was a mug of beer, 
 and his pipe was already in his mouth. The 
 good man begged me to take a seat, and cheer- 
 fully answered such questions as I chose to put 
 to him. I forget what was the precise value 
 of his benefice : I only remember that it was 
 inconceivably small; yet he assured me that 
 there were many of his brethren poorer than 
 he, and that he was contented. " For my gar- 
 den is very productive," continued he, " and I 
 am yet strong enough to cultivate it myself." 
 . " And have you any society at hand?" said I. 
 " Are your people attentive and kind to you?" 
 
 " I have nothing to complain of among the 
 people," replied he ; " they attend church tole- 
 rably well, and when I do join them of a 
 
 IN PRUSSIA. 
 
 115 
 
 Sabbath evening in the public garden, we 
 smoke our pipes very socially together. But 
 we don't see much of one another." 
 
 I soon found, on pushing my inquiries farther, 
 that the relation between pastor and flock is, 
 in Prussia, a very different affair from what it 
 is among us. Nobody ever thought of applying 
 
 to the pastor of , in case of difficulty, for 
 
 advice. No sick person besought him to visit 
 him or her in sickness ; the poor found him not 
 their advocate, nor expected so to find him. 
 The bouer-man sent him no little presents, — 
 eggs, or poultry, or fruit, in token of attach- 
 ment. With the great proprietor, one of whom 
 had a schloss in the parish, he held no inter- 
 course; indeed, he was, except in his own 
 family, entirely companionless. Again, it was 
 not his wont, nor the custom of his brethren, 
 except on stated occasions, to catechise the 
 young, or to exhort the aged. He lived, in 
 short, a life of mere routine, and had no incli- 
 nation to step beyond the circle. How is it pos- 
 sible that a man so circumstanced can have the 
 slightest power to mould the opinions, or lay 
 down rules for the conduct of those around him? 
 
 ill 
 
 Egi 
 
int 
 
 !! 
 
 : i )' 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 f 
 
 116 
 
 STATE OF THE CHURCH 
 
 The errors, then, with which the Prussian 
 government seems to be chargeable are these : — 
 first, that it is not, in the proper acceptation of 
 the term, in alliance with any particular church 
 or creed whatever; and next, that it has not 
 provided for the ministers of religion, such a 
 maintenance as the nature of their office re- 
 quires. For it is beside the question to argue, 
 that if the clergy be poor, they are at least on 
 a level, in that respect, with the members of 
 other professions. It can be no object to the 
 o-overnment whether the physician and apothe- 
 
 to 
 
 cary shall have influence over the minds of his 
 patients or not, or the lawyer be able to bend 
 them to any given purpose. If the government 
 have a wish in reference to these gentlemen at 
 all, it probably is, that they shall possess neither 
 the inclination nor the will to sway the moral 
 opinions of tbe people ; but with the clergy the 
 case is different. If they be incapable of ac- 
 complishing this end, they are clearly inadequate 
 to perform one of the great purposes for which 
 the state undertakes to maintain them. And I 
 need scarcely add, that men are nowhere so 
 humble-minded as to listen with deference on 
 
 IN PRUSSIA. 
 
 117 
 
 the most important of all subjects, to the pre- 
 cepts of those whose condition renders all 
 approach to general companionship impossible. 
 Such, however, is precisely the state of things 
 in Prussia ; which is the more to be lamented, 
 that the government piques itself on the efforts 
 which it makes to discover latent talent in 
 other walks of life, and to foster and reward 
 it. It is in the church only that no prizes 
 are bestowed, and that no pains are taken to 
 ensure for the work of the ministry, at least, a 
 fair share of the shining and influential genius 
 which everywhere abounds in the community. 
 
 I come now to another class of defects, for 
 
 the existence and continued operation of which 
 
 the church, considered as a spiritual body, is 
 
 entirely responsible. I allude to the absence 
 
 of all discipline, all controlling power, over the 
 
 religious opinions of the clergy, such as shall 
 
 ensure an uniformity of doctrine in the public 
 
 teaching of those to whom the people are to 
 
 look for instruction in righteousness. I am 
 
 not, indeed, ignorant that the doctrines set 
 
 forth in the Confession of Augsburg, are those 
 
 to which the Lutheran Church professes to 
 
 # 
 
 
!^W« 
 
 nli 
 
 118 
 
 STATE OF THE CHURCH 
 
 iijlf 
 
 adhere. Neither have I forgotten, that for 
 some time after the Reformation, subscription 
 to that document, as well as to Melancthon's 
 Apology, and the rest of the symbolical books, 
 ■was required of all candidates for holy orders ; 
 while of the labours of the old German divines, 
 distinguished alike by their erudition and their 
 piety, I am not willing to speak, except in 
 terms of profound respect. But besides that 
 ' the symbolical books were, from the outset, at 
 once too voluminous and too controversial to 
 be rightly used as a confession of faith, the 
 practice of subscribing to them arbitrarily was 
 soon laid aside, and in its room a habit was 
 adopted, which in point of fact, rendered the 
 act of subscription nugatory. As soon as men 
 were permitted to declare their acceptance of 
 these books, only « so far as they agreed with 
 Scripture," the utihty of the books themselves 
 as a test of orthodoxy, ceased to exist ; for such 
 qualiiication clearly left each minister free to 
 believe and to teach whatever his own fancy 
 mio-ht dictate. With respect, again, to the 
 Reformed Church, as the other great branch of 
 Protestantism came to be called, it is extremely 
 
 IN PRUSSIA. 
 
 119 
 
 doubtful whether any test of orthodoxy was 
 in it at any period applied ; but it is certain 
 that for a long while back nothing more has 
 been required of him who offers himself for 
 ordination, than a promise that he will teach 
 the people, according to the Scriptures of God. 
 Again, though there have been from the 
 outset, in most of the Reformed churches, forms 
 appointed for public prayer, and the administra- 
 tion of the sacraments, it has never been the cus- 
 tom to require from the ministers a rigid atten- 
 tion to those forms. Some used them,— ethers 
 did not ; and hence even in the offering up of 
 their devotions, the people were liable to be 
 guided right or wrong, according to the humours 
 or peculiar views of the pastor. Now where 
 there is neither a confession of faith, sanctioned 
 by competent authority, nor a liturgy, according 
 to the spirit of which the worship of the people 
 shall be directed, there is clearly no power 
 anywhere, of determining what shall, and what 
 shall not, be the doctrine of the church. 
 Bishops, or superintendents, or synods, or eccle- 
 siastical courts, may be competent to restrain 
 or to punish immoral practices in the clergy; 
 
 \'i 
 
P -i 
 
 120 
 
 STATE OF THE CHURCH 
 
 IN PRUSSIA. 
 
 121 
 
 1^ 
 
 # 
 
 but not having any acknowledged standard, 
 according to which opinions may be tried, how 
 can they interfere with men's doctrine? And 
 if in doctrine a church fall away from the sim- 
 plicity of the Gospel, what reason have we to 
 be surprised, if the moral principle become 
 likewise vitiated? I have ventured to assert 
 that Prussia is not a religious and a moral 
 country. Let me remind the reader of certain 
 ♦ truths which bear upon the points now under 
 consideration, and he will probably agree with 
 me in thinking, that a different result was not 
 
 to be expected. 
 
 Whoever will take the trouble to investigate 
 the history of Protestantism in Germany, 
 throughout the la^t eighty or ninety years, will 
 find, that the spectacle presented by it to the 
 eye of the Christian, is exceedingly sad. 
 Throughout that extended period, a large pro- 
 portion of the Reformed divines have not only 
 rejected for themselves all belief in the divine 
 origin of Christianity; but have laboured, with 
 a zeal worthy of a better cause, to instil their 
 own pernicious opinions into the minds of 
 others. From the chairs of the theological 
 
 professorships in the universities, of which at 
 one time they had monopolized the possession, 
 as well as in the pages of all the most influ- 
 ential literary and religious journals, which 
 were chiefly under their control, a body of 
 Rationalists, as they called themselves, ceased 
 not to contemn and hold up to ridicule all who 
 professed their belief in particular inspirations ; 
 nay, the very pulpits became, in their hands, 
 and in those of their disciples, fountains 
 from which came forth continually, the waters 
 which canker where they flow. Moreover, the 
 amount of learning which they brought to aid 
 them in this unholy task, was undeniably as 
 o-reat, as the skill which they displayed in 
 adapting their arguments to the tastes and com- 
 prehensions of the different classes in society 
 was remarkable. No wonder that the conse- 
 quence should have been a speculative infidelity 
 everywhere, producing its necessary result, a 
 ruinous relaxation in all the moral restraints 
 and obligations of social life. 
 
 The corruption of which I now speak, has, by 
 an able writer in a foreign journal, been traced 
 back to the countenance which was given by 
 
 VOL. I. O 
 
122 
 
 STATE OF THE CHURCH 
 
 IN PRUSSIA. 
 
 123 
 
 Frederic the Great to the opinions of the 
 French philosophers. Doubtless, the efforts of 
 the " beaux esprits," who composed the royal 
 coterie at Potsdam, were not entirely wasted ; 
 but they operated on the public mind rather 
 indirectly than directly; for the habits of 
 thinking in Prussia were not then, nor are they 
 now, at all of a nature to amalgamate, in any 
 degree, with those of Voltaire and his imitators. 
 The Prussians, like other branches of the Ger- 
 man family, were and are a reflecting people. 
 They are not to be turned aside from any 
 received opinions by the mere force of ridicule. 
 But they are likewise a people much given to 
 speculate in the abstract ; and in their anxiety 
 to establish the justice of a theory, they are not 
 inapt to forget that their reasoning may be 
 carried too far. The French philosophers had 
 attacked Christianity through the sides of the 
 Old Testament chiefly; or at all events, by 
 assailing the credibiUty of particular details, 
 rather than by seeking to question the evidences 
 on which the faith of the Christian is rested. 
 The Germans gave themselves to the task of 
 parrying these attacks ; and labours begun with 
 
 this simple and most praiseworthy view, ended 
 in a sort of Christianity which was little better 
 than deism in disguise. 
 
 If there had existed in 1760 any such power 
 of control in the Prussian church, as that of 
 which I have spoken, it is difficult to believe 
 that this evil could have gone very fan Men 
 who had delibemtely set their hands to a con- 
 fession of faith, in which the leading doctrines 
 of Scripture were dogmatically affirmed, would 
 have pondered long, ere, for any purpose what- 
 ever, they had ventured to impugn these doc- 
 trines ; or if not, the church, by expelling the 
 innovators from her communion, might have 
 at all events vindicated herself from the charge 
 of assenting to their innovations. But the 
 church had no such controlling power. On 
 the contrary, the utmost freedom was given to 
 a spirit of inquiry, which, unfortunately for the 
 interests of truth, took a wrong bias at the 
 outset; while the applause which each new 
 lio-ht, as it was considered, called forth, and the 
 substantial advantages which the production of 
 it conferred upon the discoverer, had no ten- 
 
 G 2 
 
124 
 
 STATE OF THE CHURCH 
 
 IN PRUSSIA. 
 
 125 
 
 i 
 
 tfi 
 
 dency to render speculation more guarded, or 
 
 reasoning more just. 
 
 The line of defence adopted by the German 
 divines against the infidel, was an unhappy one. 
 They applied to the sacred Scriptures the sort 
 of criticism which had proved satisfactory in 
 the investigation of the mythologies of the 
 heathens, and abandoned one by one, all the 
 points which render the Bible deserving of a 
 wise man's notice. Old heresies were revived, 
 and brought forward as the results of recent 
 investigation ; and while the excellence of the 
 Scriptures, as a rule of life, was sedulously in- 
 sisted upon, their claims to be received as 
 exclusively the word of God were given up. 
 It was denied that there ever had been, or ever 
 would be, such a thing as a particular inspira- 
 tion at all. The laws of God were said to be 
 immutable. The Mosaic account of the Crea- 
 tion was an allegory, and the Pentateuch a 
 series of treatises composed at different times, 
 and by different writers, but all of a date much 
 later than that of Moses. 
 
 As to prophecy, nobody could pretend to 
 
 build upon it for anything ; because the pro- 
 phets were either mere enthusiasts, or at best, 
 ardent admirers of their own national customs, 
 which they sought to restore when falling into 
 disuse. And for the rest, the doctrines of a 
 fall and an atonement, of the divinity of Jesus, 
 his resurrection and ascension, these were, like 
 the tales of miracles performed, worthy alone 
 of the dark ages which produced them. Such 
 was the Christianity taught from the professor's 
 chair, by the press, and in the pulpits of Pro- 
 testant Germany, for more than half a century ; 
 and there was no power, had the inclination 
 been present, with any one of the Protestant 
 churches to denounce it as heretical. 
 
 To the principle introduced into historical 
 criticism by Heyne, and the theory set up in 
 reference to the human intellect by Kant, the 
 low ebb to which religious feeling sank in Pro- 
 testant Germany, is in a great measure to be 
 attributed. The former, weary of the verbal 
 trifling of his predecessors, struck into a dif- 
 ferent path, and from the wildest flights of the 
 classical poets, brought forth statements illus- 
 trative of the progi-ess of civilization, from age 
 
IN EEUSSIA. 
 
 127 
 
 1".' 
 
 I" 
 
 u 
 
 I 
 
 126 
 
 STATE OF THE CHURCH 
 
 to age, and the institutions and manners of 
 other times. The latter, dissatisfied with the 
 views both of Leibnitz and Malebranehe, and 
 utterly contemning those of Berkeley, assumed 
 as his maxim, that the human mind is infallible ; 
 in other words, that no postulate in metaphysics 
 ought to be regarded as true, of which the fit- 
 ness is not demonstrable to our reasoning facul- 
 ties. There was great boldness, as well as 
 some novelty, in the views both of the scholar 
 and the philosopher ; and boldness or novelty 
 in dealing with such matters, are sure to attract 
 attention in Germany. A fresh impulse seemed 
 to be given to the learning of the age. What 
 Heyne had done in reference to the mythology 
 of the Greek poets, his imitators hastened to do 
 in elucidation of the treatises which compose 
 the Old and New Testaments; while Kant's 
 principle was fearlessly applied to the doctrines 
 deduced from these treatises. Semler, Teller, 
 Steinbart, and Eberhard, demonstrated to 
 the satisfaction of all the Neologists of the 
 day, that Moses and Homer were alike de- 
 serving of credit; that the Hebrew Judges 
 ought to take rank with the Greek heroes ; that 
 
 ■i 
 
 i 
 
 Isaiah and Joel, and the rest of the prophets,, 
 were the political reformers of their respective 
 ages ; and that Jesus Christ was but the Socrates 
 of Judaea. It is mekincholy to recollect with 
 what thunders of applause the ravings of these 
 and other sciolists were greeted, and how rapid 
 was the progress which their opinions made, 
 especially among the young and the aspiring, 
 both of the clergy and the laity. 
 
 There was no authority in any of the Pro- 
 testant churches of Germany to protest against 
 these heresies; far less to expel from her com- 
 munion the men who taught them. Individual 
 champions were never, indeed, wanting to the 
 truth ; for the treatises of Storr and his friends, 
 of Flatt, and Suskind, and others, remain as 
 lasting monuments of their own powers, and of 
 the good sense of those by whom they were 
 read and approved ; but the stream of popularity 
 ran against them, and it set in with greatest 
 violence, in the situations, where, of all others, 
 it was sure to bring the most mischievous 
 results in its train. The remuneration bestowed 
 upon the professors at the German universities, 
 is so inadequate, that there is imposed upon 
 
128 
 
 STATE OF THE CHURCH 
 
 IN PRUSSIA. 
 
 129 
 
 Ml 
 
 )i ■ 
 
 ll 
 
 them the necessity of giving what are called 
 private lectures. For these the students pay; 
 and such became by degrees the craving after 
 novelty, that no man who was not known to 
 hold ancient prejudices in contempt, could hope 
 to gather a moderately numerous class about 
 him. Moreover the young men dismissed from 
 college, and as yet unprovided for in the church, 
 usually find employment in Germany as tutors 
 in private families, or assistants in schools. In 
 these situations, they indulged freely the tastes 
 which they had acquired at the university, and 
 last of all carried with them to their respective 
 parishes, not only the habits of mere students, 
 but a fatal exemption in the prosecution of 
 their inquiries, from everything like an esta- 
 blished principle of faith. 
 
 I do not deny that the description which has 
 just been given, is more applicable, perhaps, to 
 what the state of things in Protestant Germany 
 was some years ago, than to what we find it 
 now. The Rationalist school, among the clergy 
 at least, is neither so large, nor so much in the 
 ascendant, as it used to be, though it still can 
 boast of a very considerable number of men. 
 
 eminent for their learning and their zeal. The 
 influence of such names as Ammon, Schott, 
 Bretschneider, and Wegschneider, is not to 
 be lightly dealt with; and though the first 
 of these may have, in some sort, abandoned 
 his original views, it is not quite clear, judging 
 from the tone of his later writings, that he ever 
 adopted the truths of the Gospel in their sim- 
 plicity. Meanwhile, a new school,— that of the 
 Mystics, is rising into note ; so that by-and-by 
 the Protestant churches bid fair to be divided 
 into the absolute worshippers of reason, on the 
 one hand, and mere enthusiasts on the other. 
 I do not mean, under this head, to include Dr, 
 Hengstenberg of Berlin, to whose labours the 
 cause of truth is so much indebted. Dr. Tholuck 
 of Halle, nor Dr. Neander, the admirable author 
 of the History of Paganism. These, with many 
 more, have stood forth nobly in the fore front 
 of the battle ; but somehow or another, their 
 writings carry with them much less of weight 
 than those which go to either of the opposite 
 extremes,— enthusiasm or infidelity. It is some- 
 thing, however, to be able to say, that revelation, 
 in its purity and simplicity, has its champions 
 
 G 3 
 
130 
 
 NATIONAL EDUCATION 
 
 IN PRUSSIA. 
 
 131 
 
 in Protestant Germany; and recent proceedings 
 on the part of the Prussian goTernment, show 
 that there is at least no disposition among those 
 in power, to give further countenance to any- 
 thing else. I do not find that the Protestant 
 church has as yet drawn up its confession of 
 feith, or assumed the right, which seems in- 
 herent in all churches, of determining what 
 doctrines its ministers shall, and what they shall 
 not, teach. But with a Liturgy the king has 
 supplied it. In Prussia there is now a Book of 
 Common Prayer, which Lutherans, and Cal- 
 vinists, and even French Protestants, use in 
 common; so that, from the hazard of being 
 misled, at least in the offering up of their 
 devotions, the people are happily delivered. 
 
 I might say a great deal more in reference to 
 this point, were I inclined to be hypercritical. 
 I might ask, what is to be expected from a 
 people, one of whose standard classics is Lessing, 
 who look upon Wolf as the first of biblical 
 critics, and among whom the Anthropology of 
 Heinroth has found comparatively few admirers? 
 But another subject presses, and I must turn to 
 it by glancing at the state of public education 
 
 in the monarchy, — regarded rather as a means 
 of moral than of intellectual improvement. For 
 I hold it to be a mistake of the most melancholy 
 kind to imagine, that by the mere cultivation of 
 their intellectual faculties, you render a people 
 either wiser, or better, or more happy. The first 
 object to be attended to by a ruler surely is, or 
 ought to be, that the people committed to his 
 charge shall have reason to be contented with, 
 their condition. And as it belongs to humanity 
 tliat the great mass of men must, in every age 
 and country, work hard and fare roughly, the 
 education which fails in affording to them such, 
 resources as mere learning cannot always be- 
 stow, is wanting in the very point where it 
 ought most to give proof of its usefulness. I 
 do not wish to insinuate aught against the 
 righteous intentions of anybody; but this much 
 is certain, that the people of Scotland, for exam- 
 ple, are, even in the rural districts, less moral 
 and less happy now than they used to be within 
 my own recollection. Yet education is carried 
 on in Scotland, by means of the parochial 
 schools, far beyond the limits which formerly 
 circumscribed it. Why should such apparent 
 
 i 
 
 i ■ 
 
132 
 
 NATIONAL EDUCATION 
 
 IN PRUSSIA. 
 
 133 
 
 contradiction be ? I answer, because it is one 
 thing so to educate as that the poor shall 
 grow up to habits of industry, integrity, and 
 contentment; another, to sharpen their facul- 
 ties till the edge becomes so fine as to wound 
 the moral principle itself. There may be 
 excess even in education, when applied to 
 masses, the great bulk of whom must eat their 
 bread scantily in the sweat of their brows. 
 
 It is the pleasure of the Prussian govern- 
 ment that its subjects shall be universally 
 educated,— and the pleasure of the Prussian 
 government is not to be gainsaid. Education 
 is, therefore, as widely diffused through the 
 land as the most enthusiastic believer in the 
 perfectibility of human nature could desire. 
 Of the machinery which is employed in order 
 to effect this end, it is not necessary that I 
 should speak much at large, because M. Cousin's 
 report is in the hands of everybody ; and, as 
 far as accuracy of detail goes, I have nothing 
 to say against it. But from the inferences 
 which he draws, and the conclusions to which 
 he arrives, I am forced, in many instances, to 
 dissent ; and I think that there are signs in the 
 
 , 
 
 political horizon of Prussia, which go far to 
 justify me in so doing. Let me explain the 
 grounds on which I venture to take so bold a 
 step, even though I be compelled to say, imper- 
 fectly, over again what he has already said, and 
 said well, before me. 
 
 It seems to be the design of the Prussian 
 government, that over the intellectual, not less 
 than over the physical energies of the country, 
 its own influence, and none other, shall extend. 
 Accordingly education, which, everywhere else, 
 takes its tone, more or less, from the bearing of 
 the church by law established, proceeds in Prus- 
 sia on a principle so purely laic, as well nigh 
 to merit the distinction of being pronounced 
 military. Thus it is the voice of the law, and 
 not the moral influence of the clergy, which, 
 from one extremity of the fabric to the other, 
 sets all the wheels of the machine in motion. 
 The law determines the age at which children 
 shall go to school, — the law decides when they 
 shall leave it. The law points out what shall 
 be done at school, from hour to hour and from 
 day to day. The law drives the truant from 
 his idleness under the escort of a policeman. 
 
1 
 
 ( 
 
 134 
 
 NATIONAL EDUCATION 
 
 and punishes the parent through whose care- 
 lessness or want of taste the truant may have 
 been encouraged in his bad propensity. In like 
 manner the law, having furnished him with the 
 means of acquiring the necessary accomplish- 
 ments, determines when and how the candidate 
 shall succeed to the office of a schoolmaster ; 
 and providing him with a dwelling-house and 
 subsistence, a school-room, and implements of 
 teaching, keeps him ever after under its own 
 unwearying surveillance and control. Again, 
 the authorities which shall watch these teachers 
 are of the law's nomination ; and if the clergy 
 be admitted as members of a council, it is in 
 the very humblest capacity. Last of all, through 
 parochial, and communal, and provincial consis- 
 tories, we reach the Central Council in Berlin, 
 at the head of which is the Minister of Public 
 Instruction. As the Central Board (to use a 
 thoroughly English expression,) serves as a 
 model for the construction of the Boards that 
 act subordinately to it, a description of one 
 will suffice to make my meaning clear when 
 I come to reason upon the practical working of 
 the whole. 
 
 
 I 
 
 IN PRUSSIA. 
 
 135 
 
 The Minister of Public Instruction is in 
 Prussia a member of the K^ing^s cabinet, and a 
 functionary of the highest rank. Previously to 
 the year 1819, the duties which he discharges 
 were carried on by the Minister of the Inte- 
 rior; but the offices are now quite distinct, 
 insomuch that there does not exist between 
 them, even the tie of responsibility. While 
 the Minister of the Interior takes under his 
 care all such institutions as seem to affect the 
 trade or political condition of the country; as, 
 for instance, military academies, schools of 
 mining, seminaries for the instruction of me- 
 chanics, merchants, artisans, &c.; the universi- 
 ties, the gymnasia, the burgher, and elemen- 
 tary schools, constitute the province of the 
 Minister of Public Instruction. In controlling 
 them he is assisted by a council, which meets 
 and deliberates in three sections,— namely, the 
 section of Morals, the section of Instruction, 
 and the section of Health. Of these three, the 
 second is by far the most active and the most 
 influential; for the first, which is composed 
 almost exclusively of ecclesiastics, cannot move, 
 unless especially appealed to ; the third never 
 
136 
 
 NATIONAL EDUCATION 
 
 IN PRUSSIA. 
 
 137 
 
 does move except as a matter of routine; 
 whereas the second^ sits and deliberates twice 
 in every week, and keeps up a constant com- 
 munication with all parts of the country. It is 
 worthy of remark that of it no clergyman, be 
 Ids creed what it mav, can become a member ; 
 whereas into the section of Morals one Romish . 
 prelate, at least, must be admitted, to sit, and 
 vote, and determine, side by side, with the 
 Lutherans. 
 
 In the instructions issued by this Board there 
 is a great deal of apparent attention paid to 
 the subjects of religion and morals. Thus it 
 is especially enjoined that a certain number of 
 hours in every week shall be set apart in the 
 several classes to religious instruction; and 
 that the business of each day shall begin and 
 end with prayer and the singing of hymns ; yet 
 such is the tone in which the word of command 
 goes forth, that, while it effectually secures 
 obedience to the letter of the law, of the spirit 
 of religion not an iota may be imbibed. For, 
 in the first place, the government does not 
 profess to hold one order of religious principles 
 as more worthy of its regard than another. On 
 
 the contrary, it is expressly stated, that what- 
 ever may be the religion of the majority of the 
 inhabitants in each village, that shall be re- 
 garded as the religion of the school ; unless, 
 indeed, there be funds enough to support two 
 schools, or, at all events, two masters, of oppo- 
 site ways of thinking on this trifling matter. 
 So also Jews, and smaller sects, are permitted to 
 maintain schools of their own,— their contri- 
 butions to the general school-fund being still 
 exacted,— or they may send their children to 
 the village-school for other branches of learning, 
 and instruct them in their own religious tenets 
 
 at home. 
 
 This is bad enough ; for when taken in con- 
 nexion with the law which assigns the glebe- 
 house, and church, and parochial emoluments, 
 to the minister of the sect which may most 
 abound in each parish, it can hardly fail of 
 satisfying the people, that in religion, consi- 
 dered as a dispensation from God to man, the 
 government has no faith whatever. But its 
 consequences are not more mischievous than 
 those of the second blunder, of which the Cen- 
 

 138 
 
 NATIONAL EDUCATION 
 
 tral Board is guilty. While the clergy of all 
 denominations are eommanded to impress upon 
 the people's minds a sense of the great value of 
 education, they are not permitted to interfere in 
 the management even of the religious branch 
 of it, except under the most signal constraint. 
 Nothing is left to their discretion, — no open- 
 ing is made for their zeal. The religious 
 books which the children must read, and 
 the space of time which must be devoted to 
 their reading, are alike determined by the lay 
 authorities,— who hold the minister responsible, 
 indeed, for the attention of the scholars to the 
 rules of the school, yet give him no more power 
 than belongs to a visitor, who visits by compul- 
 sion, and is himself under surveillance. Such, at 
 least, is the course pursued in reference to the 
 relidous education of the Protestants ; that is 
 to say, of the* members of the partiadar church 
 with which the state professes to be i7i alliance. The 
 Lutheran clergy must confine themselves to a 
 line which the common law has drawn for them; 
 but it is not so with the Romanists. The 
 Romish bishops select the books which are to 
 
 IN PRUSSIA. 
 
 139 
 
 be read at schools where the Romish religion is 
 taught, and the common law is satisfied to 
 enforce attention to their wishes. 
 
 What has been said of the mode of proceed- 
 ing in the elementary or parish schools, may be 
 repeated, almost word for word, in reference to 
 the burgher schools, the gymnasia, and the 
 seminaries in which young men are trained to 
 the profession of teaching. The religious in- 
 struction communicated in each comes as a 
 matter of routine, and is never so conveyed as 
 to connect it, in the minds of the pupils, with 
 any feeling of respect for the clergy. Such a 
 course, I venture to believe, though it may 
 render the growing generation familiar with 
 the historical details of the Bible, will never 
 impress them with any solid principle of reli- 
 gion ; and will utterly fail to operate as a safe- 
 guard of their morals when they go into life, 
 and are exposed to temptation. 
 
 By the philosopher, who may be disposed to 
 hold these considerations cheap, or the philan- 
 thropist, who is sanguine enough to believe 
 that an enlightened people must necessarily 
 become virtuous and happy, I can well under- 
 
IN PRUSSIA. 
 
 141 
 
 140 
 
 NATIONAL EDUCATION 
 
 II 
 
 Stand that the system of national education 
 pursued in Prussia will be spoken of in terms 
 of extravagant admiration. Except, indeed, 
 that it is liable to this trivial drawback,— that 
 everything is done by compulsion, — it would 
 be hard to devise a scheme more perfectly suited 
 to work out its proposed end. For the chain 
 of responsibility ascends from the peasant's 
 child to the Minister of Instruction ; and wheel 
 moves within wheel with the regularity and 
 precision of clock-work. In each of the ten 
 provinces, for example, into which the monar- 
 chy is divided, there is established a provincial 
 consistory, which acts under the Ober-prasi- 
 dent, or supreme governor, after the very same 
 fashion, and according to the very same routine, 
 with the Council of Education at Berlin. So 
 also each department, or Regierungsbezirke, 
 has its committee, each Kreis, or commune, its 
 Kreischulcollegen, and each Gemeinde its body 
 of notables ; while from one to the other are 
 perpetually passing visitors and inspectors ap- 
 pointed by the courts above, and a constant 
 and regular correspondence through the secre- 
 taries. It is impossible, therefore, that the 
 
 cvovernment should long be kept in ignorance 
 of any irregularity or abuse of power anywhere ; 
 and it is equally certain that wherever such is 
 detected, the culprit receives punishment, and 
 the evil is remedied. 
 
 As the Central and Provincial Councils con- 
 sist of men selected for their intelligence, (and 
 the Minister of Public Instruction appoints 
 them all, and allots to each his salary,) so in 
 the very villages care is taken to nominate to 
 the committees those among the heads of fami- 
 lies, of whose fitness the courts above may have 
 been advertised. The parties so elected cannot 
 refuse to serve for the customary term of six 
 years ; and if chosen again they must again go 
 into harness; and here, where all are unsar 
 laried, it is worthy of remark that the clergy- 
 man is, ea^ officio, a member of the body. But 
 in towns and cities no compulsion of the kind 
 holds good. There the management of the 
 national education is intrusted, as a matter of 
 course, to the magistrates ; who may, if they 
 choose, associate with themselves the clergy; 
 though such association is not forced upon 
 them. Moreover in towns and cities the Com- 
 
142 
 
 NATIONAL EDUCATION 
 
 IN PRUSSIA. 
 
 143 
 
 \\i 
 
 11 
 
 mittees of Instruction have a wider field of 
 exertion tlian in tiie country ; for in tliem we 
 find, over and above the elementary schools,— 
 Burgher-Schulen, or places of education for the 
 children of the more respectable inhabitants, — 
 as well as here and there a Gymnasium, and 
 even Schullehren-Seminarien, or seminaries for 
 the training of masters. All these it is the duty 
 of the magistrates to superintend, that they may 
 make reports to the proper officer when he 
 comes round; and receive from him, or it may be, 
 from the authorities under whom he acts, either 
 praise or blame, according as the law is, or is 
 not obeyed to the letter. 
 
 Of the Burgher-schools and the Gymnasia I 
 need not say more than that they rise, — the 
 former one step, the latter two, — above the 
 elementary schools; in other words, that in 
 each the degree of information conveyed to the 
 pupils is more extensive than the law requires 
 to be dispensed in the seminaries beneath it. 
 The Burgher-schools thus qualify the youth who 
 attend them for a walk of life superior to that 
 of the mere peasant ; while the Gymnasia send 
 them forth, either to embark at once in liberal 
 
 
 professions, or to prosecute their studies still 
 further at the Universities. In the Schullehren- 
 Seminarien, again, all this is done ; and there 
 is added to it, over and above, some acquaint- 
 ance with music, both vocal and instrumental, 
 as well as a large infusion of what M. Cousin 
 calls the esprit pedagogique. It is not, however, 
 compulsory on any class of persons to send their 
 children to these higher seminaries. Indeed, a 
 Prussian may educate his son entirely at home, 
 if he prefer domestic education. But, in this 
 case, he must not only pay his quota towards 
 the general education of the people, but give 
 the authorities satisfactory proof that the 
 education of his own household is not neglected. 
 In like manner private persons, whether men 
 or women, may, if so disposed, open academies 
 and receive boarders, provided the public exa- 
 miners, whom the Committee of Education 
 nominate, shall have been satisfied that they 
 are qualified for the office, and they obtain a 
 license from the police. As the license, how- 
 ever, is granted to the individual, and not to 
 the house, it cannot be transferred, and the 
 shutting-up of the private school for six months 
 
W : 
 
 IN PRUSSIA. 
 
 145 
 
 144 
 
 NATIONAL EDUCATION 
 
 renders it null. Nay, so vigilant is the police, 
 cr rather so jealous is the government, that 
 the pupils at these private schools undergo 
 periodical examinations relative both to the 
 kind of instruction bestowed upon them, and 
 the diet, and other physical treatment afforded ; 
 while poor scholars, that pass from door to 
 door, teaching by the hour in the houses that 
 admit them, must all be licensed and regis- 
 tered. 
 
 I have alluded to the Schullehren-Semina- 
 rien, or academies for the training of young 
 schoolmasters. It must not, however, be sup- 
 posed, that to have gone through a course at 
 one of these seminaries is invariably insisted 
 upon, as qualifying a man for the office of 
 teacher, even at one of the public schools. 
 The alumni from such seats of learning are, 
 indeed, preferred; and hence it is customary 
 for youths, whose ambition points to the ferula, 
 to enter themselves at one of these when they 
 attain to the established age ; yet is any person 
 eligible, provided he satisfy the public examiners 
 of his fitness, and have interest enough with 
 the patron of the school to secure a nomination. 
 
 I 
 
 lO 
 
 For the right of nominating is vested in the 
 founder's descendant, if the school be endowed ; 
 or in the village committee, if it be supjiorted 
 from the village funds ; or in the magistrates, 
 if it be in a city ; or, here and there, in the 
 crown. Moreover the schoolmaster, once ap- 
 pointed, as he is liable to be dismissed for 
 misconduct, so may his own diligence, and the 
 favourable reports of the inspectors, ensure for 
 him a removal to some more lucrative situation. 
 And this encouragement is the more wise, 
 because of the excessive inequality w^hich pre- 
 vails among the emoluments derived from 
 schools in Prussia. According to a table 
 published by M. Cousin, the salaries of some 
 reach as high as twelve hundred dollars a year ; 
 while those of others do not exceed ten dollars. 
 I should hardly say that the situation of a 
 schoolmaster, any more than that of a clergy- 
 man, is, in Prussia, as respectable as it ought to 
 be. At all events it is very certain, that the 
 eflfect of the system of instruction by order is to 
 produce an acute, an inquisitive, and an intelli- 
 gent population ; who acknowledge no restraint 
 in their proceedings except that of the law, — 
 
 VOL. 1. H 
 
146 
 
 OBSERVANCE OF 
 
 and bid fair, should population go on increasing, 
 and outlets or means of employment fall short, 
 to question the authority of the law itself,— at 
 least in the shape in which it is now adminis- 
 
 tered. 
 
 As I have touched upon the subject of moral 
 and religious feeUng, it seems to me that I 
 cannot well avoid alluding to other causes, 
 which, beyond all question, operate to lower 
 the hold, at least of the latter, on the public 
 mind, throughout the whole of Germany. Far 
 be it from me to eulogise that mode of ob- 
 serving the Lord's-day, which has been handed 
 down to us, not by the apostles and first Chris- 
 tians, but by the Puritans of the seventeenth 
 century ; but infinitely rather would a religious 
 man desire to see it in active operation, than 
 to behold the customs which prevail in Prus- 
 sia introduced, where as yet they are happily 
 unknown. Undoubtedly there can be nothing 
 sinful in listening, on the Lord's-day, to the 
 sounds of sweet music. Far less would the 
 benevolent seek to cut off from harmless recrea- 
 tion in the open air, those multitudes of poor 
 artisans, who, with their families, are cooped up 
 
 THE lord's day. 
 
 147 
 
 from Monday morning to Saturday night, v^dthin 
 the crowded precincts of a city. But of the cus- 
 toms of those lands which convert God's day of 
 holy rest into a season of mere dissipation, it is 
 impossible to speak except with regret. What- 
 ever serious impressions might have been pro- 
 duced by the religious exercises of the morning, 
 the dance in the open air, with the music and 
 flirtation of the evening, is sure to eradicate. 
 And when the very clergy are seen to coun- 
 tenance all these, by joining in them, who can 
 w^onder that they should retain no influence 
 over the minds of the people ? Rather let us 
 have Sir Andrew Agnew's bill, with all its 
 unnecessary rigidity, than live to see bands 
 of music publicly perforin in St. James's Park, 
 and the evening of each Lord's-day dedicated 
 to licensed dissipation. 
 
 H 2 
 
DEPARTUkE FROM BERLIN. 
 
 149 
 
 ;l 
 
 148 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 POTSDAM. — THE PALACE. — GARRISON' CHURCH. — SANS- 
 SOUCI.— SAXONY.— THE PALACE OP MORITZBURG. — 
 FIRST VIEW OF DRESDEN. 
 
 I HAVE made no mention of the Prussian 
 universities, of the course of study which is 
 pursued in them, or of the system of general 
 administration under which they subsist. It is 
 not necessary that I should supply the omission, 
 inasmuch as the Prussian universities resemble, 
 in almost every particular, those of the other 
 German states, with the constitution of which 
 there are few educated persons who are not 
 ^ell Acquainted. Thus much I may, indeed, 
 observe in passing, that each of the ten pro- 
 vinces has its own university, — as that of 
 Konigsberg for Posen, Greifswalde for Pome- 
 rania, Breslau for Silesia, and Berlin for Bran- 
 denburg; — that each of these elects its own 
 rulers, and all are so far exempt from the 
 shackles which restrain the inferior seminaries, 
 that they correspond, through their respective 
 
 heads, directly with the Minister of Public In- 
 struction. Moreover, the discipline adminis- 
 tered is of a nature to restrain the young men 
 from those wild sallies, in which, at Jena, and 
 even at Heidelberg, they were wont occasion- 
 ally to indulge. But I must not be tempted 
 to dwell longer upon a subject which has 
 already engaged more of my reader's time than 
 may be agreeable. Rather let me return to my 
 personal journal, and sketch rapidly such of the 
 events which befel, as seem to me best calcu- 
 lated to interest the attention of a stranger. 
 
 After a sojourn in Berlin, which I now regret 
 had not been very much extended, and receiv- 
 ing from the English minister there, Lord 
 William Russell, the most polite attention, we 
 set out, in the midst of a heavy fall of snow, for 
 Dresden, following, as both convenience and 
 inclination dictated, the road which passes 
 through Potsdam. Between the capital and 
 this latter city, which owes its existence to the 
 will of the great Frederic, and all the renown 
 which it can boast, to associations connected 
 with his name, the country is by nature as flat 
 and uninteresting as the imagination of man 
 
 •' ■»> 
 
150 
 
 ISLAND OF PEACOCKS. 
 
 POTSDAM. 
 
 151 
 
 
 can well conceive. For about two German, or 
 ten English miles, indeed, a long straight mac- 
 adamized road, shaded on either side by rows 
 of poplars, runs through the heart of a sandy 
 level, which all the industry of an industrious 
 population has hardly sufficed to render even 
 moderately productive. When you have passed 
 Zehlendorf, however, and crossed the fine 
 wood which shuts it up in the rear, the scene 
 undergoes a change. You are now upon the 
 Havel, which, having been carefully dammed 
 up, spreads out into a lake of considerable 
 dimensions, and is surrounded with banks, 
 sloping, w^ell wooded, and picturesque; — the 
 produce of the labour of those by whom the 
 channel of this artificial mere has been scooped 
 out. In the middle of that lake is the Pfauen- 
 insel, or Island of Peacocks, the favourite 
 summer retreat of the reigning monarch ; and, 
 if credit might be given to the reports of our 
 postilions, one of the most lovely spots on 
 earth's surface. But I am ashamed to say that 
 we did not visit it. The weather, indeed, was 
 80 extremely inclement, that our chief anxiety 
 was to find shelter from its violence with as 
 
 little delay" as possible; and we comforted our- 
 selves by believing, that, though the postilions' 
 tale might be true to the letter, the falling 
 snow must have incapacitated us from judging 
 of its truth. Accordingly we experienced no 
 regret when, about twelve or one o'clock, our 
 carriages stopped at the sign of the Golden 
 A^dler, a very comfortable hotel, with a well- 
 kept table d'hote, and ample accommodation, 
 even for a party so numerous as ours. 
 
 Unfavourable as, to such an occupation, the 
 state of the atmosphere was, we did not look 
 out from the closed windows of the carriage 
 without being at once surprised and delighted 
 with the sort of scenery through which, for the 
 last few miles of our journey, we had been 
 passing. The artificial hills, which begin at the 
 head of the lake, are continued almost to the 
 gate of the city, intersected here and there by 
 valleys very tastefully arranged; while from 
 amid the groves, that shelter both hill and vale, 
 many palace-looking mansions protrude, — all 
 of them white, as if built of free-stone, and at 
 once elegant, and, — as it seemed, — convenient 
 in their proportions. Of Potsdam itself I do 
 
152 
 
 POTSDAM. 
 
 THE GARRISON CHURCH. 
 
 153 
 
 ! i 
 
 not know liow far I should be justified in giving 
 a minute description. Enough is done, when 
 T state that the air of desolation, of which other 
 travellers complain, still hangs over it; that, 
 after passing the barrier, you traverse long, 
 wide, and almost empty streets ; and that the 
 very houses, on each side, appear too spacious 
 for their inhabitants, to a degree which causes 
 you to wonder that they are not in a state of 
 ruin. Not that decay has failed already to lay 
 his finger upon them. The stucco that covers 
 the brick-work has, in many places, become 
 green and mouldy, and in some is peeling off; 
 while columns chipped, and statues partially 
 mutilated, tell of palmy days that were, — but 
 are not, in all human probability, destined to 
 
 return. 
 
 The objects which chiefly invite the stranger's 
 attention at Potsdam are well known. In the 
 to\vn itself we have the Garnison Kirche, 
 within which the remains of the great Frederic 
 are deposited ; the Royal Palace, in which the 
 present king was born, and Voltaire's house. 
 In the environs, the two royal residences, Sans- 
 Souci, and the New Palace ; besides a village, 
 
 called the Russian settlement, which is repre- 
 sented as not less deserving of notice than any 
 of the others. Over all, with the exception of 
 the last, the spirit of Frederic is diffused; 
 indeed, it may be said of the place in general, 
 that, go where you may, some reminiscence of 
 the old warrior meets you. We have houses 
 with fronts that might suffice for the abode of 
 royalty, inhabited by very poor burghers. 
 Statues of gods and goddesses oppose you at 
 every turn ; and the lintels of a butcher's-stally 
 and of a haberdasher's shop, are alike sur- 
 mounted by some classical device in basso- 
 relievo. Yet to enjoy all this there seems ta 
 be no living creature in the town, except the 
 soldiery. Potsdam is a huge barrack, and its 
 streets afford space for hardly a single lounger 
 who is not in uniform. 
 
 The Garrison Church is an exceedingly pretty 
 thing of the kind. Its principal ornament, to 
 be sure, is Frederic's tomb, which stands just 
 beneath the pulpit; while over it hang the 
 flags and eagles which, in the late war, the 
 Prussians won from the armies of Napoleon. 
 The tomb itself is quite plain,— a mere metal 
 
 H 3 
 
154 
 
 FREDERIC'S SWORD. 
 
 sarcophagus, within which — so as not to be 
 polluted by the earth, — the ashes of Frederic 
 lie. But that which the Prussians justly 
 valued, with a regard which fell little short of 
 superstition, is no longer there. Frederic's 
 sword, which used to rest above the coffin lid, 
 was removed to Paris ; and, to the inexpressible 
 regret of the nation, could never be recovered. 
 
 The behaviour of Napoleon, when he en- 
 tered this town as a conqueror, seems to have 
 been, like his bearing in general, full of incon- 
 sistencies. He went, it seems, to the tomb of 
 Frederic, and bowed the knee before it, saying 
 audibly, "Hadst thou been alive, I never 
 should have been here." He paid, too, the 
 most scrupulous regard to all the arrange- 
 ments in what had been the apartments of the 
 mighty dead ; suffering no article of furniture 
 to be moved from its place, nor even the hands 
 of the watch, which still point to the hour 
 when Frederic breathed his last, to be altered. 
 Yet, not content with plundering the palaces 
 of their choicest pictures, he stole the con- 
 queror's sword from the conqueror's grave. It 
 was a base deed, which has neither been for- 
 
 FRENCH EAGLES. 
 
 155 
 
 o-otten nor forgiven by the people whose feelings 
 it outraged. And the consequence is, that 
 when the captured eagles are pointed out to 
 the stranger, care is always taken to make him 
 aware, that they are suspended where they hang, 
 as trophies of the vengeance which Prussia took* 
 on the violators of her mighty monarch's grave 
 It is satisfactory to an Englishman to per- 
 ceive, that the trophies acquired by the armies 
 of England from those of revolutionary and 
 imperial France, are at once more numerous 
 and more striking than those of which any other 
 European nation can boast. How the case 
 may be at St. Petersburgh I do not know ; but 
 at Vienna I counted only nine eagles, at Pots- 
 dam I think there were seven ; whereas in the 
 chapel of Chelsea Hospital not fewer than 
 thirteen adorn the walls. Is it not to be 
 regretted, that, with such evidences before us 
 of their worth, we should pay so much less 
 of honour than is paid by the nations of the 
 continent, both to the living and the dead 
 among our brave defenders? This very Gar- 
 rison Church at Potsdanf, for example, has its 
 walls covered with tablets, on which are in- 
 
.I'" 
 
 156 
 
 THE CITY PALACE. 
 
 THE CITY PALACE. 
 
 157 
 
 Hill 
 
 illil 
 
 scribed the names of soldiers of all ranks, who 
 distinguished themselves or fell in the great 
 War of Liberation. Why are our bravest men 
 neither decorated while living, nor honoured 
 when dead? 
 
 The City Palace at Potsdam would scarce 
 repay the labour of a visit, did it not contain a 
 suite of apartments which Frederic was accus- 
 tomed to inhabit ; and which, with great good 
 taste, have been preserved in the order which 
 used to prevail during his lifetime. You ap- 
 proach it from the main street by a colonnade, 
 along which, on either hand, classical statues 
 keep guard, and are conducted into the state 
 apartments through a gallery from which the 
 best pictures have been removed to Berlin. The 
 apartments in question, small and unassuming, 
 have no power to detain you long from the 
 more interesting chambers that lie beyond; 
 where are seen, exactly as he left them, Frede- 
 ric's writing-table, ink- stand, music-stand, book- 
 case filled with works in the French language, 
 and the chair and sofas, on which he was wont 
 to sit, with their covers much torn by the claws 
 of his favourite dogs. So also his dormitory, 
 
 with its silver furniture, carries you back to the 
 time when the greatest man of his day endured 
 so much of parade, because it was necessary, 
 —yet slept, night after night, behind these 
 gorgeous balustrades, on a common mattress, 
 spread upon a rude truckle bedstead. But 
 the most curious, because most characteristic 
 apartment in the house, is that to which Fre- 
 deric was in the habit of retiring when he 
 desired to eat a confidential supper or dinner 
 with a friend. There is a small cabinet, well 
 furnished, with double doors, which adjoins the 
 king's apartment, and which, indeed, you can- 
 not enter except by passing through that 
 apartment. There, in the centre of the room, 
 stands a circular table, which, being placed 
 upon a trap-door, may be lowered down to the 
 kitchen, and lifted up again at pleasure. It 
 w^as the king's humour to eat his meals there 
 as often as he desired to be at his ease with 
 a companion, and as the dishes all came on 
 arranged, as it were, by magic, so they disap- 
 peared again, on a given signal, w^ithout so 
 much as a domestic having the opportunity of 
 observing what the king might be about. 
 
 It 
 
 1 1 
 
158 
 
 SANS-SOUCI. 
 
 Exactly opposite to the window of that cabinet, 
 and across a narrow street, is the house wliich 
 Voltaire used to inhabit ; where he is said often 
 to have received by signal, invitations, which 
 no man more relished, or- knew better how to 
 improve. 
 
 The palace of Sans-Souci stands at an easy 
 half-hour's drive out of the town, and occupies 
 the last of a series of terraces, which rise one 
 above another, like a giant stair-case. You 
 approach it by a broad avenue, on either side of 
 which are gardens, laid out in the formal taste of 
 the age and school of Louis XIV., with alleys, 
 dipt hedges, fountains, and statues, all of them 
 now exhibiting manifest tokens of neglect. I 
 saw it under circumstances so peculiarly un- 
 favourable, that of the scenery by which it is 
 surrounded it would be presumption in me to 
 speak. Woods there are, and hills and vales, 
 with the usual attendants on hills and vales not 
 of nature's formation; table-lands, caves and 
 grottoes, and all the other appliances of the 
 pastoral life. But alas, to our great discomfort, 
 a thick coat of snow shrouded them all ; and 
 scarcely had we began to examine them in 
 
 SANS-SOUCI. 
 
 159 
 
 detail, when a fresh fall put a stop to the opera- 
 tion. We were thus compelled to restrict the 
 indulgence of our curiosity to such objects as 
 the interior of the mansion might present ; and 
 to believe all that the guide told us of our own 
 evil fortune, and of the extreme beauty of the 
 scene when the summer's sun lights it up. 
 
 The palace itself, as seen from the exterior, 
 is a fantastical, but not an ugly pile. It is very 
 low, rising but a single story from the ground, 
 and contains — at least so it seemed to me — 
 only one suite of apartments ; for numerous as 
 were the rooms through which our cicerone con- 
 ducted us, we passed from one to the other 
 continually, till we found ourselves, for the 
 second time, in the entrance hall. The front of 
 the palace is towards the east ; so that you look 
 down over the hanging-gardens, upon the lake, 
 the Isle of Peacocks, and other objects of ex- 
 ceeding interest. In the rear, there is a semicir- 
 cular colonnade, within which, when infirmities 
 bowed him down, the greatest monarch of his 
 day used to take exercise, till even that exer- 
 tion became too great, and his walks were 
 limited to the picture-gallery. Strange to say, 
 
160 
 
 SANS-SOUCI. 
 
 the gallery in question seems never to have 
 been completed. The walls are merely plas- 
 tered, and in many places, the plaster is crum- 
 bling off. 
 
 It was in his retreat in Sans-Souci that 
 Frederic gave the freest scope to all his 
 humours, and whims, and caprices, as one after 
 another they obtained an ascendancy over him. 
 In the furnishing and decoration of his rooms, 
 not less than in literature, all his tastes seem to 
 have been French. We have, for example, in 
 one place, the portrait of domestic servants, in 
 the costume of heathen deities ; in another, a 
 country girl, a beautiful creature, doubtless, 
 but taken in the attitude in which Frederic 
 chanced to see her, and that not the most 
 decorous. In like manner, the apartments 
 allotted to his several favourites are all hung 
 round with paper, each pattern having some 
 reference, more or less discernable, to the habits, 
 or genius, or character of its occupant. That 
 in which Voltaire used to reside, no stranger 
 will of course overlook. Its walls are covered 
 over with the representations of birds and 
 beasts of different species, conspicuous among 
 
 SANS-SOUCI. 
 
 161 
 
 which are the parrot and the monkey. How 
 far the king desired to exercise his wit at the 
 expense of the philosopher, I do not know, but 
 the finale to the arrangement is certainly in 
 keeping with such design, if it happened to be 
 intentional. At Frederic's desire, Voltaire 
 wrote, on one occasion, a poem, in which he 
 compared each of the inmates of this palace to 
 one or other of the animals in his own apart- 
 ment. Himself he likened to a chained 
 monkey, and there are, perhaps, few persons 
 conversant with the life and writings of the 
 man, who will not be ready to concede that the 
 simile was exceedingly appropriate. 
 
 I do not think that it is among the recesses 
 of Sans-Souci, that we are apt to cherish the 
 most satisfactory recollections of Frederic the 
 Great. To his passion for dogs and horses, no 
 objection could have been made, had he not 
 carried it to an extreme w^hich shocks our moral 
 sense ; for we may well assume that he who 
 desired to be buried in the same grave with a 
 favourite horse, could not draw a very broad 
 line between the eternal destinies of the dead 
 monarch and of the dead charger. Neither 
 
162 
 
 SANS-SOUCI. 
 
 would it be fair to condemn his taste in garden- 
 ing, because the gardens about the palace are laid 
 out so as to outrage nature in every imaginable 
 way. But the habits of life which he indulged 
 in, in this his retirement, accord so ill with our 
 notions of a really great man's humour, that 
 almost involuntarily we shrug up the shoulder, 
 and say. What a strange medley of the mighty 
 and the mean is human nature at the best ! 
 Frederic withdrew, from time to time, to Sans- 
 Souci, for the avowed purpose of getting rid of 
 the cares of state. He there, with his guests, 
 gave himself up to recreation ; and as it was 
 his fancy to be intellectual even in his recrea- 
 tions, day after day was devoted to literary 
 trifling. The poets and authors whom it was 
 his good pleasure to see round him, racked 
 their brains at night that they might produce 
 extemporaneous epigrams or • sonnets in the 
 morning. Warriors and statesmen, and dames 
 of high degree, arrayed themselves as shepherds 
 and shepherdesses, and went forth to tend ima- 
 ginary flocks, and sing pastoral songs, among 
 hills which Frederic's soldiers had thrown 
 up, and groves which Frederic's gardeners had 
 
 SANS-SOUCI. 
 
 163 
 
 planted. All this is so silly, and the recollec- 
 tion of it is impressed upon you so vividly by 
 every thing which you see in and around the 
 palace, that I very much question whether you 
 do not come away more humbled than gratified 
 by the spectacle. Yet was Frederic's a mind 
 of such an order, that had there not been want- 
 ing to it the principle without which all other 
 qualities seem to wither ere they attain their 
 full growth, we should have found it hard, in 
 all history, to point out one that was superior 
 to it. It was doubtless because he had no 
 more elevating taste to indulge, that Frederic 
 took refuge from himself in these tom-fooleries. 
 Gustavus Adolphus would have sought and 
 found amusement in far higher things. 
 
 Frederic's apartments at Sans-Souci, like 
 those in the City Palace, have been kept religi- 
 ously in the order in which they were when he 
 died. His bed and chair, have both, indeed, 
 been removed, the latter to the Museum in 
 Berlin, where it is now exhibited ; but in all 
 other respects, both saloon and chamber are pre- 
 cisely as they were when he was in the habit of 
 using them. In the latter hangs a portrait of 
 
164 
 
 SANS-SOUCI. 
 
 THE NEW PALACE. 
 
 165 
 
 Gustavus Adolphus, the single picture which 
 the great man permitted to be suspended there ; 
 and his time-piece, wound up for the last time 
 by his own hand, still points to the hour, within 
 five minutes, at which he expired, and so re- 
 mains, a memorable monument of his power 
 and of his weakness. For he who seemed to 
 control and regulate all other influences, was, 
 like the meanest of men, controlled at last ; his 
 watch and himself ran down together. So 
 struck was Napoleon by the coincidence, that 
 he would not permit tlie time-piece to be set 
 a-going, even though the refusal subjected an 
 ofBcer on duty in the apartment to some incon- 
 venience ; and to his honour be it recorded, the 
 same feeling of reverence appears to have ani- 
 mated him throughout. He wandered around 
 the haunts of the mighty dead, like one in 
 whose mind a superstitious feeling had been 
 excited ; and took no more away with him than 
 a strip of cloth which he cut with his own 
 hand from one of the faded and blotted covers 
 of Frederic's writing-table. 
 
 Frederic's decline was, as is well known, 
 gradual and easy. He never lost the vigour of 
 
 his mind, and continued every inch a king, even 
 when he was carried in an arm-chair to the 
 terrace, that he might inhale the fresh breeze, 
 and bask in the sunshine. " I shall be nearer 
 to him by and bye," said he, as he gazed upon 
 the luminary. It is a pity that he should have 
 committed so great an outrage upon decency as 
 to desire that his body should be interred in 
 that terrace beside his horse. For once, how- 
 ever, Frederic's command was disregarded. 
 They carried his remains to the Garrison Church 
 in Potsdam, where they now rest ; and the iron 
 gate of the colonnade through which the pro- 
 cession passed, was locked after them. It has 
 never been opened since. 
 
 From Sans-Souci, not unconscious of a feel- 
 ing so strangely mixed as to defy analysis, we 
 passed to the New Palace, a large and clumsy 
 pile, which Frederic built at the termination of 
 the Seven Years' War, for the j)urpose of con- 
 vincing his enemies that his resources were not 
 exhausted. We found very little there to inte- 
 rest or amuse, except in the gallery, where, 
 among a whole mass of pitiable rubbish, there 
 are two or three tolerable pictures. Frederic's 
 
166 
 
 JUTERBOGK. 
 
 GEOSSENHAYN. 
 
 167 
 
 I I 
 
 works, likewise, of which a copy is sho^vn in 
 the library, enriched by marginal notes from the 
 pen of Voltaire, attracted our attention. The 
 latter are often caustic enough, particularly in 
 reference to the king's French style, on the 
 purity of which Frederic greatly prided him- 
 self; yet the language of flattery is not wholly 
 wanting. At the end of one of Frederic's 
 letters, the critic has written these words: 
 Que esprit! de grace dHmagination! qtiil est doiw 
 de vivre mia^pieds d'un tel Jiomme. 
 
 We could have willingly extended our tour 
 of investigation to the Russian village, and the 
 Marble Palace near it ; but the snow fell so fast, 
 and the cold became so intense, that having 
 returned to the hotel to dinner, our reluctance 
 to quit the shelter which it afforded was not to 
 be overcome. The remainder of the day was 
 accordingly spent within doors, and our sleep 
 at night was sound. 
 
 From Potsdam to Dresden will occupy the 
 traveller who journeys, as we did, by easy 
 stages, three days. He will find little during 
 the first two of these to interest him very 
 deeply. At Juterbogk, to be sure, a town of 
 
 some four thousand inhabitants, is preserved in 
 the church of St. Nicholas the indulgence-box 
 of Tetzel, Luther's opponent, whom Hans von 
 Hacke, a robber-knight, plundered of it and the 
 produce of the pardons which had been sold to 
 the credulous. Moreover there is a larger 
 sprinkling of wood over the face of the country 
 in general after you quit Treuenbrietzen, the 
 point whence the roads to Leipsig and Dresden 
 diverge. But not till you have fairly passed 
 the Prussian border, and entered upon the 
 Saxon territory, can there be said to be any 
 palpable improvement in the scenery. Then, 
 however, the change is very remarkable ; nor do 
 you cease, till Dresden itself is won, ever after 
 to be surrounded by objects of wliich the beauty 
 is perhaps enhanced by the contrast which they 
 offer to the wearisome, though well-cultivated 
 plains that you have left behind. 
 
 The first Saxon town which you enter is 
 Grossenhayn. It contains a population of be- 
 tween five and six thousand souls, and was, 
 when we approached it, in all the bustle of a 
 fair ; that is to say, the centre of the Platz was 
 occupied by booths and stalls of various de- 
 
168 
 
 GROSSENHAYN. 
 
 PALACE OF MORITZBURG. 
 
 169 
 
 !ni! 
 
 scriptions, through which country-people were 
 passing to and fro, as if to make purchases. It 
 was clear, however, either that this could not 
 be the great market in the year, or that Gros- 
 senhayn was not a place of first-rate commer- 
 cial importance ; for the goods exposed to sale 
 were neither very varied, nor very valuable, nor 
 were the purchasers very numerous. Indeed, 
 the general air of the place was that of a town 
 which had seen its best days. The few lamps 
 that were, hung from cords that were drawn 
 across the streets. The sewers all ran in the 
 middle of the carriage-road; and the people 
 seemed to accord well with their antique, and 
 in some instances, dilapidated habitations. We 
 stopped to dine, and were but indifferently 
 served, at the sign of the >Star (Lowe) ; after 
 which we resumed our progress; each mile 
 introducing us into scenery which more and 
 more reconciled us to the tedious rate at which 
 we travelled. 
 
 The country that intervenes between Gros- 
 senhayn and the plain of Dresden, bears no 
 slight resemblance to many parts of Kent. 
 There is the same alternation of hill and dale, 
 
 the same beautiful feathering of wood, and the 
 same fair disposition of villages and hamlets, 
 each lying in the shelter of its own deep dell. 
 By-and-by a lake is descried upon your left, of 
 which the waters, at one point, well nigh wash 
 the side of the road ; and on an island in the 
 midst of it stands the palace of Moritzburg, 
 once the favourite resort of the Saxon princes, 
 and the place where several of them have been 
 born. It was built by the Elector Maurice, 
 and is surrounded by a park and garden ; both 
 neat, but neither of them extensive ; and it con- 
 tains a complete set of tapestries copied from 
 Raphael's cartoons, as well as some curious old 
 furniture, and a collection of trophies of the 
 chase. One pair of antlers, which numbers 
 not fewer than sixty-six branches, is a noble 
 specimen of what horns may come to. Here 
 Marshal Saxe, one of the great men of his 
 day, first saw the light; and hither, till very 
 lately, the royal family used, at certain seasons, 
 to repair, to enjoy the sport of fishing, if sport 
 that may be called, which consists in hauling 
 out a boat-load of perch and pike in nets, 
 making your selection of the finest, and throw- 
 VOL. I. I 
 
 !! 
 
170 
 
 PALACE OF MORITZBURG. 
 
 ing the rest back again to their mud-beds. As 
 seen from the road, the palace ought to be 
 imposing ; for it is large, it belongs to the same 
 order with Holyrood House at Edinburgh, and 
 has circular towers at each of the angles ; jet 
 the effect of the flaring red tiles with which it 
 is covered, is unhappy ; and the dingy hue of 
 the reedy water round it is not pleasing. We 
 had ample leisure to examine it, for one of our 
 horses cast a shoe when ascending the hill hard 
 by ; and to get such a misfortune remedied, even 
 when you have found out the blacksmith, is not, 
 in a Saxon village, the work of a moment. 
 
 At last the shoe was replaced, and not en- 
 tirely free from the apprehension that night 
 would close round us ere wo should gain the 
 brow of the last range of hills from which 
 Dresden becomes visible, we resumed our jour- 
 ney. In this respect, however, our alarm 
 proved groundless. The assurance to the 
 postilions of an additional drinkgeldt made 
 them forget their customary kindness to their 
 horses, and we drove on at a rate which would 
 have done no discredit to English coachman- 
 ship. It was well that we did so. The space 
 
 FIRST VIEW OF DRESDEN. 
 
 171 
 
 between us and the capital proved wider than 
 we had anticipated, and picturesque as the 
 scenery was, we were beginning to get impa- 
 tient, when all at once, after emerging from a 
 thick wood, our driver exclaimed, as we began 
 to descend the hill, " Behold Dresden !" We 
 looked forth, and the spectacle was such as 
 could not fail to excite in us the most pleasure- 
 able emotions. There lay the queen-like city, 
 in the centre of an enormous plain, yet belted 
 in on every side by an amphitheatre of low 
 hills ; her domes and gilded spires flashing back 
 the rays of the setting sun, and her lordly river 
 sweeping on his course with noiseless majesty. 
 I really think that the first sight of Dresden, as 
 the traveller catches it from the side by which 
 we approached, is one of the most striking 
 things of the kind which it is possible to con- 
 ceive. It reminded me of the view which you 
 obtain of Oxford from Shotover, more than any- 
 thing else ; except that as the plain of Dresden 
 is incalculably wider than that of Oxford, so are 
 the hills more im^DOsing ; while the Elbe is to 
 the Isis like Loch-Lomond to a fish-pond, or the 
 falls of Niagara to the cascade at Virginia Water. 
 
 I 2 
 
172 
 
 DRESDEN. 
 
 173 
 
 We drove on in the highest spirits ; passed 
 the barricade unquestioned, gained our hotel 
 just as darkness closed in, and deferred till the 
 morrow, the business of seeing sights, and 
 delivering introductory letters. 
 
 # 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 PRESDEN.-ITS BUILDINGS, STREETS, AND EXHIBITIONS.^ 
 STATE OF SOCIETY.— THE REVOLUTION OF 1830.-ITS 
 RESULTS.— DOMESTIC HABITS.— MUSIC— MORALS.-THE 
 CHURCH. COMMERCIAL SPIRIT. 
 
 I WOULD just as soon think of writing a de- 
 scription of Clieltenham, as a topographical 
 account of Dresden. Every man, and woman, 
 and child in Europe, knows that it stands 
 astride upon the Elbe, that the old town is con- 
 nected with the new by the finest bridge in 
 Germany, and that contrary to all precedent, as 
 we find it established, at least, in this our 
 favoured land, the old town is still, and bids 
 fair to continue, the court end of the Saxon 
 metropolis. There, indeed, just across the river, 
 is the Schloss, or palace, connected by a sort of 
 covered gallery, or bridge, with the Roman 
 Catholic church ; which the royal family, papists 
 since the days of Augustus II. of Poland, 
 attend with praiseworthy exactitude. There, 
 too, is the Frauen-Kirche, a massive, but clumsy 
 
174 
 
 DRESDEN. 
 
 pile, the Picture Gallery, the great China Ware- 
 house, and indeed all the other objects which 
 strangers visit; and there, taking a pattern 
 from the king, reside, during the gay months at 
 least, almost all, both of foreigners and natives, 
 who desire to be accounted people of fashion. 
 To be sure, the builder is doing his work rapidly 
 on the right bank of the Elbe likewise. The 
 Royal Library has, within these few years, arisen 
 there; and the Neu Markt, with its bronze 
 statue of the Elector King of Poland, is a 
 -fine thing. But though several English families 
 reside here, and the suburb is fair, and stretches 
 well along the Pilnitz road, this is certainly not 
 the feshionable end of Dresden. 
 
 With a prodigious number of objects which 
 it is necessary for him to inspect, I am inclined 
 to believe that the traveller is, in nine cases out 
 of ten, disappointed with Dresden. In the first 
 place, it is, as a capital, on a very small scale, 
 for the population does not exceed seventy 
 thousand souls. In the next place, the build- 
 ings, which look well at a distance, are all found, 
 •when you examine them in detail, to be want- 
 ing. The Old Palace, for example, is a mere 
 
 DRESDEN. 
 
 175 
 
 xnass of stone and lime, without air or cha, 
 racter. or any attempt at decoratiou; while the 
 diurch which adjoins to it is in the very worst 
 style of Italian architecture. Masses of ill-hewn 
 statues surmount its innumerable buttresses, 
 and look down upon you, in all directions, from 
 the edge of the parapet that environs the root. 
 In like manner, the Dome-Kirche, or Frauea- 
 Kirche, resembles more an old-feshioned pep- 
 per-box, than any other production of art or 
 nature Neither can more be said in reference 
 to the streets and squares, than that they are 
 quite peculiar. The former, generally narrow, 
 seldom run in a straight line ; the latter, paved 
 all over, deserve no more sounding title than 
 that which is actually applied to them ; they are 
 mere market-places. Nevertheless, the stranger 
 ^ho may happen to wander through them on a 
 festival or fair, will find more to amuse than m 
 the gorgeous but deserted squares of Berhn. 
 For Dresden, though a small capital, is a city of 
 great stir and bustle. Much business is trans- 
 acted there ; travellers from all nations, are per- 
 petually passing through, and the productions of 
 field and loom, of the workshop and the dairy. 
 
176 
 
 THE BRUHL TERRACE. 
 
 are brought in on a scale of great abundance. 
 I do not know any where a more pleasing spec- 
 tacle of its kind than that which the Alt 
 Markt presents about nine or ten o'clock on a 
 May morning. Among the booths and stalls 
 which fill up the area, flower women are moving 
 about and offering for sale the prettiest garlands 
 that ever were woven, while along the trot- 
 toirs (for here such things are) well-dressed 
 people hold on the tenor of their way right 
 merrily. 
 
 The great charm of Dresden is, however, the 
 exceeding beauty of its environs. He who looks 
 forth from the Bruhl Terrace, the favourite re- 
 sort of the lounger on a summer's evening, sees 
 beneath him the lordly Elbe, sweeping along 
 with a mighty current, and though not, like our 
 own Thames, crowded with shipping, still en- 
 livened by the passing and repassing over its 
 surface of numerous barges and pleasure-boats. 
 Beyond it lie fields that laugli with standing 
 corn, a prodigious plain, which stretches per- 
 haps twenty miles in length, ,by half as many 
 in width ; the whole of it fertile to an extent 
 such as I have not seen equalled in any other 
 
 THE BRUHL TERRACE. 
 
 177 
 
 quarter of Germany ; and cultivated with a 
 care and nicety which are truly admirable. 
 And then on the north, and south, and west, 
 ranges of low hills come in, some of them bare, 
 others wooded, others clothed with vineyards, 
 from the bases to the tops, while in the east, 
 the more rugged summits of the Saxon Switzer- 
 land appear, lifted just far enough above the 
 horizon to -set the imagination to work, at the 
 same time that they form a noble back-ground 
 
 to the picture. 
 
 The Bruhl Terrace, from which the reader 
 and I are presumed, at this moment, to be 
 gazing, is an elevated platform, which over- 
 hangs the river; and which is approached from 
 the southern extremity of the bridge by a noble 
 flight of steps. It runs along the front of the 
 Palace of Bruhl, so named after Augustus IL's 
 profligate minister ; and being shaded by rows 
 of poHarded trees, offers numerous attractions 
 to the idle and the luxurious. Should the 
 humour prevail, you may pass from it almost 
 all round the ramparts ; for Dresden, like Ham- 
 burc., has been denuded of its fortifications ; and 
 boulevards, tastefully laid out, have taken the 
 
 I 3 
 
178 
 
 THE ENVIRONS. 
 
 place of bastion and curtain. Moreover, when 
 fiatisfied with your inspection of these, you may 
 turn into the Japanese Gardens, which are ex- 
 ceedingly beautiful, and command a noble view 
 of the bridge and all the most striking edifices 
 in the town ; while the Zwinger Garden, though 
 less extensive, as it is contiguous, will not, of 
 course, be neglected. Moreover, there is the 
 Park, with its shady avenue, extending almost 
 to Meissen; the Grosse Garten, on the road to 
 Pirna, scarce an English mile from the ditch ; 
 a fair meadow, I know not by what name called, 
 ■which, washed bythe waters of the Elbe, stretches 
 upwards in the direction of the Saxon Sweitz ; 
 and, though last not least, the picturesque and 
 well-made road, which conducts by the Link- 
 ische Bad, and Findlater's Vineyard, to Pil- 
 nitz. Take what direction you may, in short, 
 your rides and walks in the vicinity of Dresden 
 are all of them beautiful; while such is the 
 compact arrangement of the city, that ten 
 minutes will suffice to carry you from the 
 centre clear of the last suburb, and amid the 
 fresh breezes of the champaign. 
 
 Of the Palace, the Galleiy, the Green Vaults, 
 
 THE PICTURE GALLERY. 
 
 179 
 
 the Rust-Kaumur, or any other of the exhibi. 
 tions which it is the duty of the valet-de-place 
 to point out, and of the traveUer to inspect, I 
 am not going to say one word. They have all 
 been described a dozen times at least ; and were 
 it otherwise. I am not sure that much either of 
 instruction or amusement is to be derived from 
 the perusal of a mere catalogue of names, even 
 if it be enriched with notes and comments. 
 With respect to the Picture Gallery, I may. 
 indeed, observe, that it merits all that has been 
 said of it, as well in commendation, as the re- 
 verse. Comprising the choicest coUection of 
 master-pieces that is to be met with on the 
 north side of the Alps, it exhibits, more than 
 anything of the sort which I, at least, have 
 visited, melancholy tokens of neglect ; for the 
 paintings are uncleaned, the frames dingy, and 
 the whole arrangement of the apartments such 
 as to produce a sense of positive pain. The 
 yng, it appears, complains that he is too poor 
 to deal differently by it ; and the states have 
 either not been applied to for a grant in aid, or 
 have refused it. And the result is, that for 
 lack of fires during the winter months, and a 
 
180 
 
 STATE OF SOCIETY. 
 
 little more care in the summer, gems of inesti- 
 mable value run some risk of being eaten away. 
 As to classification, in the order either of sub- 
 jects, or masters, nothing of the kind seems 
 ever to have been attempted ; and the people 
 who wait upon you while you linger amid the 
 halls, do not appear either to value the pictures 
 themselves, or to care whether they are rightly 
 esteemed by others. It is different with the 
 Graun Vaults, the treasures contained in which 
 appear to command the utmost respect of the 
 Saxons. The jewels and enamel, and gold and 
 silver plate, carved ivory, and precious stones 
 which fill these chambers, are very precious in 
 the eyes of the parties who exhibit them, and 
 care is taken to inform you, that if converted 
 into money, tliey would more than discharge 
 the whole amount of the national debt. 
 
 The state of society in Dresden, and indeed, 
 throughout Saxony in general, is very different 
 now from what it was ten years ago. Formerly 
 the king exercised almost unlimited authority ; 
 for the representatives of provinces, though 
 acknowledged as his counsellors, were without 
 influence, and the nobles took care to sup- 
 
 STATE OF SOCIETY. 
 
 181 
 
 port his privileges, in order that their own 
 might not be invaded. The king's word thus 
 became law, and the amount of taxes to be 
 levied on the subject was fixed by his sole plea- 
 sure, or the supposed exigencies of the hour. 
 Meanwhile in country places, feudalism pre- 
 vailed to a very considerable extent. The pro- 
 prietors of land, for example, exercised over 
 their tenantry and peasants powers, not, indeed, 
 unshackled, but very ample. They not only 
 exacted from them labour on the demesne, with 
 suit and service when necessary, but admmis- 
 tered justice among them, as well in cases cri- 
 minal, as in cases civil. It was a lawyer from 
 the nearest town, paid and nominated to the 
 office by the noble, who decided all disputes 
 between one bouerman and another; while 
 except in graver cases, the same judge, acting 
 under the same authority, took cognizance of 
 offences against the laws, and punished the 
 
 offender. 
 
 In spite of the restraint which such an or- 
 der of things must necessarily impose upon the 
 developement of men's energies. Saxony throve 
 and prospered. The population was always an 
 
182 
 
 REVOLUTION OF 1830. 
 
 KEVOLUTION OF 1830. 
 
 183 
 
 industrious one ; and power in the hands either 
 of king or noble, seems rarely to have been 
 abused. Of practical liberty, likewise, there 
 was no lack; and in the towns, — the great 
 nurseries of a nation's wealth, — a good deal of 
 eelf-government prevailed. But the influence 
 of the three glorious days of July was felt, 
 even in this remote corner, and Saxony, for- 
 sooth, following the example of France and the 
 Netherlands, must needs have her revolution. 
 
 It chanced that at this critical period, the 
 king's councils were directed by an individual, 
 whom the nobles hated for his pride and arro- 
 gance, — the people for his extreme rapacity. 
 The king himself, likeMise, Anthony, the 
 brother of Frederic Augustus, and uncle of the 
 reigning monarch, was not popular; for his 
 habits of life were too recluse for the genius 
 of his subjects, and they contrasted him, not to 
 his advantage, with his predecessor, Avhom they 
 positively adored. The embers of dissatisfac- 
 tion which had long smouldered, burst out into 
 a flame. There was a tumult one day in the 
 city, which the slightest exercise of firmness 
 might have put down, but with which neither 
 
 the old king nor his selfish and timid minister 
 had the courage to grapple. The rioters felt 
 their power, and turned it to account. Mobs 
 began to assemble forthwith, elsewhere than in 
 the capital. Cries were heard for Liberty and a 
 Constitution ; and bands of men paraded the 
 streets, shouting aloud, " Down with the minis- 
 ter : let us have Frederic for our king." Mean- 
 while, orders had been issued to the troops, 
 that not on any pretence whatever should they 
 fire upon the people ; and the people having 
 ascertained that fact, did not fail to act upon 
 their knowledge. Tlie guards were literally 
 chased from their stations by bands of women 
 and children : then followed scenes of rapine 
 and disorder, during which several lives were 
 lost, and which would have probably ended in a 
 general sack of the city, had not an individual 
 gallantly thrown himself into the breach ; and 
 without any authority from the frightened go- 
 Ternment, hurried forth to allay the storm. 
 Lieutenant-General Baron de Gablentz, who 
 now acts as governor of Dresden, rode into 
 the middle of the throng, addressed the popu- 
 lace, assured them that all their reasonable 
 
184 
 
 RESULTS OF THE REVOLUTION. 
 
 demands would be attended to, and called 
 upon such as valued life and property, and the 
 cause of good government, to rally round him. 
 He himself bound a white handkerchief about 
 his left arm, in token, as he said, that he would 
 support a constitutional monarchy; and his 
 example was promptly followed by all who had 
 property to lose. The consequence was, the 
 formation, on the spot, of a corps of national 
 guards, by whose exertions the tumult was put 
 down ; and which still continues embodied, its 
 members all wearing, when under arms, the 
 badge which, on that day of universal alarm 
 and confusion, they had assumed. 
 
 The results of this revolution, — if such it 
 
 deserve to be called,— were, that the king was 
 
 stripped of all real influence, by the association 
 
 with himself on the throne, of the present 
 
 monarch, then Prince Frederic. The obnoxious 
 
 minister received, of course, his dismissal ; and 
 
 by-and-by came out proclamations, in which 
 
 everything that had been sought by the more 
 
 considerate leaders in the revolt, was conceded. 
 
 Hereditary jurisdictions were abolished, except 
 
 in veiy rare cases, and the power which used 
 
 THE MUNICIPALITIES. 
 
 185 
 
 to be exercised by the seigneurs, was henceforth 
 given up, in point of fact, to the people. All 
 towns now elect their own municipalities, and 
 are governed by laws of their own making; 
 while rural districts being divided into depart- 
 ments, have each its own magistracy, whom the 
 people not only choose, but whom in case of 
 malversation, they, and they only, have the 
 right to degrade from office. 
 
 In point of numerical strength, the munici- 
 palities differ, as may be supposed, in proportion 
 to the relative magnitude of the towns over 
 which they preside. In the most inconsidera- 
 ble, however, as in Schandau, a watering-place 
 in the Saxon Sweitz, we find a burgomaster, a 
 stadtrichter, and a stadtschriber,-the former 
 answering very much to the mayor, in one of 
 our boroughs,— the latter to a town clerk and 
 public notary. These are all elected by the 
 citizens, for life : yet are they liable, on con- 
 viction of incapacity or unfair dealing, to be 
 degraded,— a fate which seldom or never over- 
 takes them, though the right of awarding it 
 rests with the electors. Their powers are 
 very considerable, in reference both to person 
 
186 
 
 THE MAGISTRACY. 
 
 THE MAGISTRACY. 
 
 187 
 
 and property; for tliey regulate the police of 
 the township, punish offenders against the pub- 
 lic peace, hear and determine causes between 
 man and man, and both fix the amount of rates 
 to be levied on the citizens, and determine how 
 the produce shall be expended. They are all 
 salaried officers, who derive their own revenues 
 from the local taxes; while the stadtschriber 
 makes over and above what he can, of the liti- 
 gious propensities of his neighbours. 
 
 While the townships are thus governed, 
 the districts absolutely rural enjoy the super- 
 intendence of a distinct magistracy, — not, as 
 with us, appointed by the crown, and giving a 
 pledge for their personal respectability, in the 
 amount of the stake which they hold in the 
 country, — ^but chosen by a certain number of 
 townships, one of which becomes, as it were, 
 the capital of the circle. In the election of 
 these magistrates, every rate-payer has a voice; 
 and as they, like the burgomasters, are all sti- 
 pendaries, the magistracy becomes, in fact, their 
 vocation. It is necessary, however, before a 
 man can be appointed to the magisterial office, 
 that he should receive a legal education, and be 
 
 possessed of some small portion of land, and 
 of the house in which he resides. But as the 
 crown had no part in conveying the authority 
 which he wields, so it is not consulted, if by . 
 any chance his degradation should be deemed 
 necessary. The same power which conferred, 
 can alone take away, both the emoluments 
 and the dignity of office. 
 
 In every circle or department there is a 
 capital, where the magistrates hold periodical 
 meetings, and try such cases as may be brought 
 before them. Of the department within 
 which Schandau, for example, lies, Hohenstein 
 is the chief seat; and in the old castle of 
 Hohenstein the magisterial meetings take plaxje. 
 Yet the rural magnates have no right to inter- 
 fere with the management of any matter, 
 whether civil or criminal, which may have 
 occured within the limits of the township of 
 Schandau. Schandau has its peculiar jurisdic- 
 tion, and is only so far connected with the 
 lesser hamlets round it, that its rate-payers 
 lend their assistance in the selection of fit and 
 proper men, to superintend the affairs of their 
 less privileged neighbours. 
 
188 
 
 COURTS OF JUDICATURE. 
 
 From the decisions of these local courts an 
 appeal lies to the King's Courts in Dresden, — 
 tribunals, of which the judges are nominated by 
 the crown, and by the crown are paid. Not 
 that such appeals are often made, for the pro- 
 cess is expensive, and the determinations of the 
 inferior courts seem generally to give satisfac- 
 tion. Moreover, in criminal cases where life 
 and death are at issue, the trial takes place 
 uniformly at Dresden. The accused is, indeed, 
 arrested and committed, in the first instance, 
 to the prison of the district; but he passes 
 thence, under an escort, to the capital ; where, 
 should the decision be against him, he is con- 
 demned, and afterwards sent back, that the 
 execution may take place within the circle 
 w^hich witnessed the commission of the crime. 
 In Saxony, persons sentenced to suffer a capital 
 punishment die by decapitation ; and near the 
 prison of each district there is a mound, called, 
 from the scenes which are enacted upon it, the 
 Gallows Hill. Here the unfortunate criminal 
 ends his bad career by the hands of one who 
 unites in his own person all those incongruous 
 privileges and attributes which we might 
 
 THE EXECUTIONER. 
 
 189 
 
 expect to find bestowed by a people so ima- 
 ginative as the Germans, on the public exe- 
 cutioner. Of old the office of headsman in 
 Saxony used to be assured, by law, to particu- 
 lar families. Since 1830 the people claim the 
 right of electing their own executioner; yet 
 such is the force of habit that the son, provided 
 he be duly qualified, is almost always chosen to 
 succeed his father. Once chosen, moreover, the 
 headsman takes rank, in some sort, as a gentle- 
 man. He inhabits a house, which, as well as 
 a portion of land, is allotted to him by the 
 department. All horses and cattle that die a 
 natural death within the department become 
 his property ; and out of this perquisite he not 
 unfrequently derives more substantial advan- 
 tages than might be supposed. For the bouer- 
 man is entitled, when his horse falls sick, to sell 
 him to the executioner at a stipulated price ; 
 that is, provided he judge it more expedient 
 to get rid of a dying animal, for a trifling gain, 
 than to give away the dead carcase for nothing. 
 The process is this :-The farmer's horse is 
 taken ill. He believes it will not recover, and 
 having hung on to the last moment, he comes 
 
190 
 
 THE EXECUTIONER. 
 
 THE KING OF SAXONY. 
 
 191 
 
 to the conclusion, that his wisest course will 
 be to sell it to the headsman. He must 
 remove it, however, for this purpose, to the 
 headsman's paddock. If the animal be strong 
 enough to carry a rider to the gate, the farmer 
 demands, and must receive for it, a dollar. If 
 it be too far gone for this, he leads it to its new 
 owner, and is paid with sixteen groschen. The 
 headsman gains little or nothing in either case, 
 provided the animal die; though he is never 
 the loser, because hide, and heels, and shoes, 
 are always worth a dollar. But the horse 
 sometimes recovers, — and then he may sell for 
 fifty dollars an animal which he purchased for 
 
 one. 
 
 Such are the perquisites of office that attach 
 
 to the situation of public executioner in 
 Saxony. The drawbacks attending it are not 
 inconsiderable ; for not even the revolution of 
 1830 lias been able to deliver men's minds 
 entirely from the power of prejudice. The 
 executioner in Saxony is still a personage with 
 whom no one would willingly associate. The 
 law treats him as a public functionary, and 
 ranks him, well nigh, with the magistracy. 
 
 —the people hold aloof from his companion- 
 ship ; indeed, the time is not distant since the 
 cup out of which he had drunk in a public- 
 house, would have been set aside by the host, 
 and never used again till it was to himself again 
 presented. I believe that there is now a good 
 deal of softening down in this respect ; but he 
 is still a marked man, of whose intimacy the 
 poorest are not ambitious, and into whose 
 family few women would willingly marry. 
 
 It was not, however, in these respects alone 
 that the emeute of 1830 accomplished mighty 
 things for the Saxon people. Saxony has now its 
 parliament, its upper and its lower house, with 
 a king so checked and hampered, that beyond 
 the nominal right of choosing his own minis- 
 ters, and putting a veto on such enactments as 
 may be distasteful to him, his prerogatives do 
 not extend. In his person he is, to be sure, 
 still sacred; and from him all honours, com- 
 mands in the army, and such like, proceed. 
 But his power is essentially as stinted as the 
 most ardent admirer of popular institutions 
 could wish. The parliament, again, consists of 
 a senate and chamber of representatives, the 
 
192 
 
 CHAMBER OF DEPUTIES. 
 
 former, composed of fifty-two members, the 
 latter of three hundred. Of the senators some 
 take their seats by virtue of their offices, — as 
 the Roman Catholic bishop, the king's prin- 
 cipal chaplain, a Protestant, the dean of the 
 university, and one or two great officers of 
 state. Of the remainder, some sit in right of 
 their holdings, and transmit their privileges as 
 senators with their estates to their children; 
 while others are elected for each parliament, by 
 a com^tituency of their ow^n order. The qua- 
 lification for a seat in the senate is the same 
 that is required to entitle a man to vote in the 
 election of a senator, — namely, a landed estate, 
 of w hich the yearly value shall not fall short of 
 six thousand dollars. 
 
 To the lower house, or Chamber of Deputies, 
 all citizens elect, — that is to say, all heads of 
 families who in any way contribute to the 
 public burdens. The candidate, on the other 
 hand, must make it apparent that he possesses 
 property to the amount of a thousand dollars a 
 year. On this, however, if elected, he need 
 not depend for his own subsistence; for in 
 Saxony the deputies are paid, and even the 
 
 CHAMBER OF DEPUTIES. 
 
 1£3 
 
 . 
 
 senators do not scruple to accept a mainte- 
 nance from the country. The pay of the sena- 
 tor is, if I recollect aright, seven dollars a day 
 during the actual sitting of parliament ; the 
 deputies are assumed to require no more than 
 
 three dollars. 
 
 It is not easy to suppress a smile while con- 
 templating all this parade of liberal institutions 
 among a people who not only do not value, 
 but seem hardly to understand, the uses to 
 which liberal institutions ought to be turned. 
 The Chamber of Deputies, for example, presents 
 as rare a spectacle of decorum and pliability as 
 the heart of man need desire. By far the 
 larger proportion of its members being honest, 
 but ignorant countrymen, are entirely at the 
 beck of a few clever citizens, as they, in their 
 turn, are guided by the minister, with a very 
 little exercise, on his part, of finesse and 
 patronage. Thus, though all money-bills must 
 needs, as among ourselves, originate in the 
 Chamber of Deputies, the minister has but to 
 propose his plan through an agent, and he is 
 sure to carry it, — the simple-minded represen- 
 tatives conceiving that, in the matter of taxes, 
 VOL. I. K 
 
194 
 
 SAXON PARLIAMENT. 
 
 a Statesman by profession must, of course, be a 
 surer guide tlian themselves. Meanwhile the 
 constituency, especially in the rural districts, 
 complain loudly that their parliament is worse 
 than useless; that it saddles them vnth bur- 
 dens which, under the old system, they were 
 not required to bear ; that now they have three 
 hundred and fifty sovereigns to maintain instead 
 of one. Moreover the rigid censorship which 
 is still exercised over the press, as it keeps the 
 Saxon public profoundly ignorant of what is 
 passing in their parliament, so has it the effect 
 of rendering the members indifferent as to the 
 results of motions for which no human being 
 ever holds them responsible. As to speaking 
 
 such a thing is unknown in the Chamber of 
 
 Deputies. There are no reporters to send the 
 harangue far and wide; and who, even at 
 Westminster, would care to hold forth, were 
 not vanity enlisted on the side of his sense 
 of public duty? In the upper house the case 
 is somewhat different, for it is composed of 
 men who do occasionally speak. The king's 
 brother, the Prince John, is there a chief 
 declaimer. 
 
 THE ARMY. 
 
 195 
 
 One is a good deal surprised to find in Dres- 
 den almost as much of the sword and feather 
 as at Berlin. The whole Saxon army amounts 
 only, I believe, to ten or twelve thousand men ; 
 yet it seemed to me as if the garrison of the 
 capital could not fall short of three thousand, 
 which, as well infantry as cavalry, presented a 
 very respectable appearance. The artillery is 
 not so good ; for the gun-carriages are heavy, 
 and the horsing and general equipment, indif- 
 ferent. But the men are all young, active, 
 well clothed, and well armed ; and if they do 
 slouch somewhat in their gait, they are at least 
 as upright as the Prussians. What the morale 
 may be which pervades the Saxon army now, I 
 do not know. During the war of 1813-14 it 
 was excellent, — at the period of the revolution 
 of 1830 it was beneath contempt ; whether it 
 has recovered, or is likely to recover, I cannot 
 tell. But as the system of conscription pre- 
 vails here, exactly as it does in Prussia, I am 
 inclined to augur favourably of the spirit of the 
 conscripts. They are all mere recruits, it is 
 true, but they seem both willing and intelli- 
 gent. 
 
 k2 
 
196 
 
 SOCIETY IN DRESDEN. 
 
 The social order of things in Dresden 
 appears to me, to be very pleasantly arranged. 
 There are no overgrown fortunes anywhere, 
 whether among the native or foreign residents, 
 —consequently there is very little straining 
 after display, either in the equipages which you 
 meet, or at the parties to which you may be 
 invited. Few families occupy what the Scotch 
 denominate self-contained houses, but living, as 
 in Paris, principally in flats, they very sel- 
 dom oppress themselves with a large retinue 
 of servants. Their entertainments, too, do not 
 often involve them in more serious expenses 
 than may be requisite to provide for their 
 guests a little coffee, or tea, or lemonade, or 
 sugar and water ; from which, after an hour or 
 two of conversation, or music, or dancing, or 
 all combined, the guests depart in as good 
 health and spirits as if they had demolished a 
 dozen haunches of venison, and drunk a case of 
 champagne. In the same spirit families go 
 forth, en masse, after the summer has set in, to 
 enjoy the cool of the evening and the bands 
 that play in the public gardens. Sunday is, 
 of course, the favourite day in the week for 
 
 THE ROYAL FAMILY. 
 
 197 
 
 this species of relaxation; and it is but fair 
 to add, that people seem to avail themselves 
 of it in Saxony with a much greater show 
 of decorum than marks the proceedings, under 
 similar circumstances, of their neighbours in 
 
 Prussia. 
 
 The court of Dresden is exceedingly hospi- 
 table, and kind, and unpretending. If it 
 deserve censure at all. I am inclined to blame 
 it for the marked preference which is shown to 
 foreigners over the native nobility,— a prefer- 
 ence which may be politic, if the sole object 
 be to cause the circulation of money in the 
 capital by filling it with strangers,— but which 
 is felt and complained of, not without reason, 
 by the parties neglected. Yet is the king, and 
 indeed every member of the royal family, most 
 popular. You meet him everywhere, driving 
 about in a plain carriage and pair, and wholly 
 unattended ; and you always observe that the 
 passers-by salute him with not more of respect 
 than of affection in their manner. They 
 express regret, it is true, because of his bigotry 
 to the Church of Rome ; and look with an 
 envious eye on the growing influence of the 
 
198 
 
 THE OPERA. 
 
 GRADES OF SOCIETY. 
 
 19a 
 
 ^ 
 
 Romish clergy ; yet the king himself they love 
 sincerely, and the Prince John they both love 
 
 and respect. 
 
 The Saxons, like all the branches of the great 
 German family, are very musical. The opera 
 in Dresden is, therefore, well attended at all 
 times, and the singing and orchestra are both 
 good ; while, in the church of the palace, mass 
 is performed in a style which startles almost as 
 much as it delights. This, indeed, is not to be 
 wondered at, when we remember that the 
 corps which performs in the playhouse every 
 evening in the week, is marched over on Sun- 
 day morning to sing and play in church ; but 
 I confess that, to my prejudiced ear, the effect 
 was not good. There was too much crash of 
 fiddles, and too light a strain in the chaunting 
 throughout. With the opera itself, on the 
 other hand, I cannot conceive how it is possi- 
 ble to be otherwise than charmed. You go, 
 without parade or fuss, in your morning cos- 
 tume, if it be more convenient, — ^in full dress, 
 if you prefer it, — and, taking your seat at six 
 o'clock, listen for three hours to exquisite 
 music. And when this ceases, you will find 
 
 yourself, at nine, on the Bruhl Terrace, enjoying 
 the bright moonlight, and the glorious scene 
 oyer which it is poured ; or you return home, 
 having suffered neither inconvenience nor 
 fatigue by a protracted detention in a heated 
 theatre. How much more rational are these 
 arrangements than our own.-where the one 
 object with the manager seems to be, that his 
 patrons, the public, shall get as much of heat 
 and noise, and bad odours as possible, for their 
 
 money. 
 
 There is throughout Germany, and nowhere 
 
 more strikingly than in Dresden, a line of dis- 
 tinction drawn between the different orders in 
 society, which, though it appear to incommode 
 no human being where crowds congregate,- 
 as in public places.-is never, in the private 
 amenities of life, overstepped. I say nothing 
 of the barrier which seems to oppose itself to 
 any sincere amalgamation of English with 
 native society. The habits of the two people 
 are. in many respects, so opposite, and the 
 prejudices on both sides so strong, and so httle 
 concealed, that this is not to be wondered at; 
 -but there are other gaps in the social chain 
 
200 
 
 LITEKAEY MKN. 
 
 STATE OF MORALS. 
 
 201 
 
 r 
 
 of Dresden besides this. Men of letters and of 
 reputation as artists, rarely, if ever, mix in 
 what is called fashionable companies. Tieck, 
 and Tredge, and Carus, and Retzsch, seldom 
 either pass the limits of their own dens, or 
 open their doors to strangers ; or if they do, it 
 is only to their acknowledged admirers, — to 
 ladies and gentlemen who esteem it a privilege 
 to be admitted, — by one to his public readings, 
 —by another to soirees, where he is not only 
 the chief, but the sole object of attraction. 
 Madame De Stael, I think it is, who remarks 
 of the literateurs of Germany, that their sen- 
 sibilities are too morbid to endure collision 
 with the working-day world. Here and there 
 they are beginning to overcome this reserve, — 
 as in Berlin, and even in Vienna. But in 
 Dresden it still affects them to a degree which 
 is quite painful. 
 
 The moral tone in Dresden is, I have reason 
 to believe, much higher and purer, and better, 
 than in almost any other of the greater capitals 
 in Germany. Among the upper classes, indeed, 
 it is quite unexceptionable ; and I am inclined 
 to attribute the circumstance to the fact, that 
 
 the moral influence of the court being diffused 
 throughout a circle comparatively narrow, is, 
 by every portion of that circle, felt beneficially. 
 In the humbler ranks, I am sorry to say, that a 
 different account is given. Here, as in Berlin, 
 there is really no pretence of religious principle 
 anywhere ; and where religious principle is not 
 operative, it were vain to look for virtue among 
 the lowly. The dread of losing caste may 
 restrain a person of rank,— the desire of stand- 
 ing well with those whose countenance is 
 coveted ; but the shopkeeper, and all below 
 the shopkeeper, must be swayed by holier 
 motives, otherwise they cannot be expected to 
 resist temptations, by yielding to which they 
 will sustain no immediate detriment. Not that 
 Dresden is destitute of its popular preacher,— 
 with whose genius and its fruits the whole of 
 Northern Germany rings ; and the sort of read- 
 ing of the Bible which best goes down in 
 Srxony, may be judged of from the tenor of 
 the work which he has lately published. In 
 a series of discourses delivered in the Dome 
 Kirche, and since collected and put forth to 
 
 k3 
 
il 
 
 202 
 
 THE CHURCH. 
 
 PUBLIC EDUCATION. 
 
 203 
 
 I 
 
 the world, the learned Doctor undertakes to 
 prove, that each age of the world has received 
 from God the sort of revelation which was 
 best adapted to its condition; and that, as 
 the patriarchal gave way to the Mosaic, and 
 the Mosaic to the Christian dispensation, so is 
 it to be expected that, in God's own time, this 
 latter dispensation, under which we now live, 
 shall be supplanted by a better. When men, 
 who gravely affect to believe God's word, can 
 thus deal with it, and bring to their tasks 
 talents and eloquence such as the gentleman 
 in question undeniably possesses, it would be 
 idle to expect that there can exist anywhere 
 that spirit of humble piety which softens the 
 heart, and purifies the mind, and induces, 
 among such as are swayed by it, habits of self- 
 control, and self-distrust, and humility. 
 
 The observations which I have hazarded in 
 reference to the Lutheran church of Prussia, 
 will apply very nearly to the state of the same 
 church in Saxony, except in this: — that the 
 clergy have much more weight in the manage- 
 ment of the national education here, than they 
 
 have, or can ever expect to attain, in Prussia. 
 In Dresden, as at Berlin, there is a Minister of 
 Public Instruction, who superintends the work- 
 ing of a machinery, not dissimilar in its main 
 features to that which operates in Prussia ; but 
 his council, instead of acting by sections, from 
 the most important of which ecclesiastics are 
 shut out, acts as one body, and is composed 
 mainly of ecclesiastics. In like manner, the 
 village schools come, at least in theory, much 
 more under the immediate control of the pastor ; 
 and at the universities, as well as in the gym- 
 nasia, ecclesiastical influence is paramount. 
 Still the extreme poverty of the clergy, the 
 humble station which they fill in society, the 
 habits which of necessity they acquire, and their 
 general ignorance, all render them, as guides of 
 public feeUng, and controllers of public prin- 
 ciple, virtually inefficient. The Saxons are not, 
 in any class, a religious people ; and if in some 
 they deserve to be accounted virtuous, the merit 
 of their virtue is due, certainly not to the exer- 
 tions of the clergy, but in part, perhaps, to con- 
 stitutional coldness, in part to the good example 
 which is set them by the court. 
 
204 
 
 COMMERCUL SPIRIT. 
 
 HOUSE-RENT. 
 
 205 
 
 HIili 
 
 » 
 
 .1 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 ti 
 
 The Saxons are, perhaps, the most enter- 
 prising people in Germany. It is their great 
 ambition to become a commercial people ; and 
 they are making gigantic efforts to accomplish 
 their end. Having no other outlet to their 
 powers, no professions, such as the bar or the 
 church, or even the army or navy, with us, 
 almost all young men of talent and enterprise 
 apply their energies to trade. Railroads, too, 
 are springing up everywhere. Manufactures 
 are encouraged. Youths travel far and near, 
 to increase their acquaintance with the prin- 
 ciples of barter, or the details of particular arts, 
 and returning home again, give to their native 
 land the full benefit of their experience. As a 
 necessary consequence, the conversation at a 
 table-d'hote turns almost always upon the ex- 
 changes. Yet are the nobility still reluctant 
 to sully their scutcheons by dipping them in the 
 troubled stream of commercial speculation. 
 Even banking, which, in England at least, par- 
 takes somewhat of the nature of an aristocratic 
 amusement, is, in Saxony, given up to mere 
 traders. The experience of a few years will 
 probably cure the Saxons of this folly ; for un- 
 
 less some unexpected check be given to the 
 course of events which now runs on in a deep 
 and well-defined channel, the period is not re- 
 mote when in Saxony, as in England, men's 
 rank and station in society will be counted 
 more from the amount of their revenues, than 
 the purity of their blood. 
 
 The shops in Dresden are as commodious, 
 and the articles offered for sale as attractive, in 
 their several degrees, j|ts one meets with in any 
 other town of German^. The linen and por- 
 celain, in particular, are both of them excellent; 
 for the latter has about it all the nice adorn- 
 ment of that of Berlin, with a delicacy of 
 texture such as in Berlin has not yet been 
 attained. Moreover, the prices of almost all 
 articles of consumption are moderate. But I 
 cannot say as much of house-rent. Whether 
 the influx of a whole colony of English has of 
 itself affected the market, I do not know; but 
 I found upon inquiry, that a tolerable lodging 
 for a family was not to be had under twelve or 
 fifteen pounds a month. Now fifteen pounds 
 a month is a large sum to pay for apartments 
 uncarpeted, and otherwise less than half fur- 
 
206 
 
 HOUSE-RENT. 
 
 207 
 
 nished. Yet the Saxons demand and obtain it 
 freely from their visitors. I do not find that 
 natives pay so much ; though they, also, begin 
 already to complain, that we have rendered 
 their countrymen far more exorbitant than 
 they used to be, in their charges. 
 
 I ill I 
 
 illi 
 
 i 
 
 CHAPTER YIL 
 
 SAXON SWITZERLAND.— PILNITZ. — HOHENSTEIN. — SCHAN- 
 
 DAU. RESIDENCE THERE.— MANNERS OP THE PEOPLE. 
 
 THE PUBLIC GARDENS. — GAMES. — ABSENCE OF RELI- 
 GIOUS FEELING.— AGRICULTURE. NATIONAL PECULIA- 
 RITIES.— FORM OP WORSHIP, AND ADMINISTRATION OP 
 THE SACRAMENT. 
 
 Though summer be unquestionably the season 
 of the year when travelling is, on every account, 
 the most agreeable, it is not exactly that which 
 a stranger would desire to spend as a resident, 
 even in Dresden. Beautiful as the environs 
 are, and little as the city itself partakes of the 
 desagremens which attach to capitals in general, 
 it is, from May to October, so completely de- 
 serted by all who have the means of going else- 
 where, that you traverse the empty streets with 
 a sense of positive depression on your spirits. 
 For myself, T soon discovered that, whatever 
 might be the case in winter, there would be 
 very little enjoyment of the dog-days in the 
 Saxon capital. We therefore made up our 
 
208 
 
 THE SAXON SWEITZ. 
 
 1! • 
 
 minds to continue in the occupation of our 
 apartments at the hotel till the sharp edge of 
 curiosity should, in some measure, wear off; 
 and then moving into the district which is 
 known throughout Europe as the Saxon Swit- 
 zerland, to find out there some convenient place 
 of residence for a season. 
 
 The Saxon Sweitz, as the wild and romantic 
 tract of country is called, which extending partly 
 into Bohemia, connects Saxony with the Aus- 
 trian dominions, rather than divides them, lies 
 at the distance of fourteen or sixteen miles 
 from Dresden. There are two roads by which 
 you may approach it, both of them beautiful ; 
 one along the left bank of the Elbe, which car- 
 ries you by Pirna to Konigstein ; the other on 
 the right bank, which leads by Findlater's Vine- 
 yard, Pilnitz, and Lunen, to the magnificent 
 Bastei, or the scarcely less striking Hohenstein. 
 It so happens that my first acquaintance with 
 the glories of that most singular country was 
 made through the instrumentality of the latter 
 of these routes ; and as first impressions, they 
 say, are, in all cases, the most enduring, I shall 
 venture, as far as my feeble powers of descrip- 
 
 
 THE SAXON SWEITZ. 
 
 209 
 
 tion go, to convey to the reader's mind some 
 faint and imperfect notion of the sort of 
 scene into which that pleasant progress intro- 
 duced me. 
 
 It was a dull and lowery day towards the 
 end of April, when at seven o'clock in the 
 morning, the carriage that was to convey Mrs. 
 Gleig and myself on our tour of inquiry after 
 a summer quarter, arrived at the door of the 
 hotel. The clouds which, for some time back, 
 had been charged with snow, began soon after 
 we set out, to cast forth their burden ; and the 
 cold, though becoming less intense in pro- 
 portion as the sun gained power, continued 
 through the day seriously to incommode us. 
 Yet was the drive, on very many accounts, a 
 highly interesting one. In the first place, the 
 snow, though it fell by fits and starts, rarely 
 impeded our view for more than ten minutes 
 at a time. In the next place, we soon found 
 ourselves sweeping along a macadamised road, 
 hemmed in on the one hand by the Elbe, on 
 the other, by a chain of low, but picturesque 
 hills, cultivated to the summits, and laid out in 
 vineyards. Tier above tier, in regular steps or 
 
210 
 
 VINEYAEDS. 
 
 Schiller's house. 
 
 211 
 
 1 1 
 
 III 
 
 ■■ I 
 
 
 platforms, a succession of these petty table-lands 
 overtopped one another ; and as, in spite of tha 
 lateness of the season, the vines were beginning 
 to put forth their fibres, the effect produced 
 by the whole scene was highly pleasing. I may 
 observe, in passing, that the cultivation of the 
 vine in this northern region is an affair of not 
 many years' standing. It has realized the ex- 
 pectations of the speculatist, however, to an 
 extent on which he himself could have hardly 
 calculated ; for such has been the triumph of in- 
 dustry and skill over both soil and climate, that 
 the wine produced here, both red and white, is 
 more than endurable. 
 
 From amid these enclosures, or nestling be- 
 neath the shelter which they afforded, peered 
 forth numerous hamlets, villages, and detached 
 dwellings, some of which advanced claims upon 
 our regard, even more weighty than those which 
 might be supplied by the extreme beauty of the 
 position. Here, for example, were the Baths 
 of Link, a cluster of houses which derive then- 
 name from a mineral spring that rises near 
 them, and is, by the Saxon medical men, held 
 to be efficacious in various kinds of disorders. 
 
 Here, but more in advance, lay Findlater's 
 Vineyard, a pretty enclosure, fenced in as a villa 
 for his own use, by an English gentleman, but 
 now converted into an hotel, with public gar- 
 dens attached to it. By-and-by is pointed out 
 a small and half-ruinous mansion, covered over 
 with red tiles, and standing in the heart of a 
 vineyard at a short bow-shot from the road. It 
 is called Loschewitz, and is famous as the place 
 where Schiller resided when he wrote his Don 
 Carlos. Moreover, exactly facing it, on the 
 opposite bank of the Elbe, is Blasewitz, the sup- 
 posed birth-place of Gustel the Suttler, a con- 
 spicuous character in the same author's Camp 
 of Wdlenstein ; while another half-hour's drive 
 carries us to Hosterwitz, the house which 
 Weber has immortalized by composing there 
 his Freischutz and Oberon. Who could be 
 aware of all this, and not feel that he was pass- 
 ing over holy ground ; who could look abroad 
 without acknowledging that the genius both of 
 the poet and musician had found in this fair 
 region a fitting nursery ? 
 
 At Lohmen we stopped to breakfast, and 
 were so far favoured by the weather, that the 
 
212 
 
 PALACE OF PILNITZ. 
 
 I i 
 
 11 
 
 next hour's drive, which carried us beyond the 
 palace of Pilnitz, was performed in sunshine. 
 Of course, we did not pass this favourite retire- 
 ment of royalty, without halting to examine it, 
 even though prepared by the unassuming cha- 
 racter of its exterior, to find nothing either 
 within or around, that would repay us for the 
 labour. It is a mere country-house, long- 
 fronted, enclosed on one side of the road by a 
 high wall, and presenting its principal face to 
 the river, from which it is separated only by a 
 terrace, with a footpath running across, that is 
 open to all the world. Here, in perfect retire- 
 ment, the king spends a large portion of the 
 summer, without state, or parade, or any other 
 of the appliances of royalty, to disturb him ; 
 indeed, the only evidences of his presence are 
 the scarlet-coated sentinels who keep post 
 beside the gate, or walk their lonely rounds on 
 the overhanging bank of the Elbe. 
 
 Something less than half an hour sufficed to 
 make all this manifest, after which we resumed 
 our progress. For a while the scenery under- 
 went little change, except that we were con- 
 scious of a continued, though gradual ascent. 
 
 VALLEY OF HOHENSTEIN. 
 
 213 
 
 and by-and-by the road running through an 
 extensive wood, all objects more remote were 
 cut off from us. Unfortunately, too, the clouds 
 gathered again, and sleet, instead of snow, fell 
 in abundance ; so that when we emerged from 
 the woody screen, the atmosphere had become 
 quite dense, and all but an indistinct view of 
 the bold and rugged jaws of the Switzerland 
 was shut out. And thus it continued till about 
 two o'clock in the afternoon, when the sun 
 broke forth once more, just as the carriage had 
 gained the summit of a hill, and was about to 
 descend on the other side. We let down the 
 windows here, and looked out ; and never can 
 I forofet the effect which that sudden burst 
 produced upon me. We had gained the brow 
 of one of the heights by which the valley, or 
 rather glen, of Hohenstein is surrounded ; and 
 could now look down, over the tops of a 
 climbing pine-wood, into the gorge below. 
 Deep, deep, beneath us it lay, — a rich, green 
 meadow, through the centre of which a trout- 
 stream poured its waters ; while, beetling over 
 it, on the opposite side, uprose the village of 
 Hohenstein, with its old castle, crowning the 
 
 
 V 
 
214 
 
 VALLEY OF HOHENSTEIN. 
 
 ridge of a rock, and connected with the Tillage 
 only by an isthmus. Even these, however, 
 though perhaps the most immediately attractive, 
 w^ere certainly neither the most striking nor the 
 most beautiful objects, in the panorama. To- 
 wards the lower extremity of the glen, where 
 its extent, narrow at the best, begins to grow 
 narrower still, there is an enormous block of 
 sandstone, — a huge mass, of a circumference so 
 great, that forests cluster round it, and mea- 
 suring in altitude, from its bed to its bald brow, 
 not less than four or five hundred feet. It 
 stands quite alone, is cloven, as it were, at the 
 summit into two parts, and is joined again, as 
 well to the hill, from which we were then 
 looking down, as each segment to the other, by 
 long, narrow, and fragile, rustic bridges. Then, 
 again, the character of the whole amphitheatre 
 was something quite different from aught on 
 which, in any other part of the w^orld, I have 
 gazed. A complete curtain of pines clothed 
 the sides of the hills, except where the rocks 
 were too rude and barren of soil to nourish 
 even the pine tree; while, as if to complete 
 the picture, there stood by the river-side, — in 
 
 VALLEY OF HOHENSTEIN. 
 
 215 
 
 the very heart of the recess,— the only species 
 of manufactory which could have accorded 
 with such a scene, — a flour and saw-mill. 
 
 Into that glorious valley we descended by a 
 path so steep, that to the eye of a nervous 
 traveller it might well appear impracticable for 
 wheeled carriages; and having reached the mill, 
 alighted. The vehicle it was necessary to send 
 round by a wide detour; whereas we, by 
 climbing the face of the hill, might reach 
 Hohenstein in a few minutes. Yet we were 
 too much delighted with the result of our first 
 exploratory expedition, thus abruptly to with- 
 draw from it. Were there but apartments 
 enough in the mill to accommodate us, how 
 pleasantly might a month or two be spent in 
 this retirement. Alas ! the inquiry which we 
 made soon satisfied us, that this vision, at least, 
 was delusive. The mill, though it covered a 
 large surface of ground, could boast of few 
 rooms, and those few by us uninhabitable ; so, 
 not without a sense of disappointment, more 
 sharp than the circumstances, perhaps, justly 
 warranted, we turned our steps towards Ho- 
 henstein. 
 
216 
 
 CASTLE OF HOHENSTEIN. 
 
 I have alluded, in another place, to this 
 village, as being the chief seat or capital of a 
 department ; and to the castle as furnishing the 
 magistrates with their place of meeting, besides 
 being used as a departmental prison. Not 
 many years have passed since the kings of 
 Saxony kept it as a state-prison ; and the dun- 
 geons in which the captives lay are still exhi- 
 bited, sunk far into the bowels of the rock. 
 Now, however, the authorities deal more mer- 
 cifully with obnoxious citizens, whom they are 
 content to shut up in cells above ground, 
 throuo-h the grated windows of which they can 
 look out up the court-yard, and at least inhale 
 the pure air of heaven. The castle itself is, 
 however, in a very dilapidated state. The 
 outer walls are in many places broken down, 
 and what were once barracks for troops, or 
 lodgings for the king's retainers, have fallen 
 sadly into decay. Yet is it inhabited. We 
 found several maidens busy at their wash-tubs, 
 within its principal court, and observed that 
 the garden was not without some faint traces 
 of most unskilful cultivation. 
 
 The carriage rejoined us here ; and all our 
 
 THE SAXON SWEITZ. 
 
 217 
 
 inquiries for a lodging having ended in disap- 
 pointment, we pushed on for Schandau, where 
 we had determined to pass the night. It would 
 be useless in me to attempt to convey, by 
 description, any idea of the sort of country 
 through which we passed. One or two observa- 
 tions may, however, be hazarded ; and as these 
 apply to the whole of the Saxon Switzerland 
 generally, they will not, I think, be without their 
 value, even in the eyes of such as have not, 
 and may never have, an opportunity of com- 
 paring my statements with the reality. 
 
 It is a striking characteristic in the scenery 
 of the Saxon Sweitz, that we found here a 
 region of glens and ravines, and wild and 
 romantic passes, without a single acclivity, or hill, 
 which is not only not inaccessible, but which is 
 not cultivated and fruitful to its very summit. 
 With the exception, indeed, of one or two iso- 
 lated rocks, such as Leinienstein and Konigstein, 
 and the Great Winterberg, (which last, however, 
 is more than a rock, being, in fact, a solid heap 
 of earth,) there is no point in all the province, 
 the extreme altitude of which exceeds, perhaps, 
 eight hundred feet from the level of the Elbe. 
 VOL. I. ^ 
 
218 
 
 THE SAXON SWEITZ. 
 
 Moreover, though the country be riven every- 
 where into fissures and gullies of the most ex- 
 traordinary kind, it is on one side, and on one 
 only, that the hills which overtop each of these 
 are rugged ; while so gradual is the upward slope 
 along the opposite side, that when you gain the 
 ridge, you are astonished to find that there is 
 such a thing as a precipice beneath you. On 
 the other hand, if, as happened to us this day, 
 your road carry you, by degrees, into one of 
 these gorges, and you behold on either hand 
 cliffs and rocks hanging over your head, and 
 forests of pine scattered through their fissures, 
 your feeling is one of positive disappointment, 
 when, having with much peril and toil clam- 
 bered up the face of the cliff, you behold 
 corn-fields, and meadows, and the dwellings of 
 civilized men, spread out upon a gently indu- 
 lating plain before you. The term Saxon Swit- 
 zerland, indeed, is one of those misnomers which, 
 originating in the fervid imagination of some 
 imaginative tourist, is sure to mislead all that 
 come after him; for with Switzerland we cannot 
 avoid associating in our own minds the thought 
 of Alpine grandeur, whereas here, there are not 
 
 APPROACH TO SCHANDAU. 
 
 219 
 
 only no Alps, but nothing that can by any stretch 
 of fancy be described as a mountain at all. 
 
 It is a maxim, I believe, of Wordsworth, 
 that the sublime in natural scenery is much 
 less dependant than people generally suppose, 
 upon gigantic proportions. This is true in all 
 cases, and nowhere has its truth been more 
 clearly demonstrated than in the region of 
 which I am now speaking. To reach Schandau, 
 for example, it was necessary for us to traverse 
 a ravine so striking that, when first beheld, 
 and indeed, till you have examined it with an 
 almost microscopic eye, you ask yourself the 
 question, whether it be possible to conceive any 
 piece of nature's handiwork more magnificent? 
 The road passes, on a continual descent, through 
 a narrow opening between two precipices, the 
 enormous rocks which constitute which, rise 
 into the air, sheer, abrupt, and in forms the 
 most grotesque, to a height of not less than 
 four hundred feet. So completely do these 
 crags, and the pines that interlace them, over- 
 hang the ravine, that in many places the sun's 
 rays never reach the bottom ; while all along 
 by the road-side, a stream holds its course, 
 
 L 2 
 
220 
 
 APPROACH TO SCHANDAU. 
 
 roaring and fretting where some fallen mass 
 dams up for a brief space its channel, and then 
 breaking away again in volumes of foam, which 
 subside, as the level is more and more attained, 
 into a silver current. The ravine in question 
 extends, I should conceive, to a distance of full 
 four English miles, and then you gradually 
 open out into a wider valley, — still, however, 
 girdled in by low hills of the same character, 
 and still watered by the stream, now swollen, 
 through the junction of others, into a respectable 
 rivulet. By-and-by you cross a bridge, near 
 which a mill, with two or three cottages besides, 
 have been planted; then you wind round a 
 pine-clad height, in the face of which a quarry 
 has begun to be worked, and lo, with Leinien- 
 stein lifting up his giant form on your right, 
 and Konigstein pushing forward from beneath 
 his shoulder, the Elbe meets your gaze in all 
 the majesty of his mighty waters. There he 
 is, — rolling along with a current so rapid, that 
 no power, save that of steam, can effectually 
 stem it; and filling, on a larger scale, the very 
 same place between his precipitous banks, which 
 the little rivulet filled in the dark and dismal 
 
 SCHANDAU. 
 
 221 
 
 gorge, out of which you have recently escaped. 
 And further on, occupying a sort of tongue of 
 land, which pushes from the hill's side, and 
 forms a promontory in the river, stands Schan- 
 dau, with its tall white church spire, its clean- 
 looking houses, its shore, or wharf, covered with 
 felled timber, which a whole squadron of barges, 
 and boats, and rafts, are preparing to convey to 
 the very coasts of the North Sea. I need not 
 say that all this forms a scene on which the 
 most matter.of.fact cannot look forth without 
 having the imagination excited by it. Yet is 
 it altogether distinct from mountain scenery in 
 the sensations which it produces, altogether 
 contradictory of the illusion which had been 
 created by the name which has, perhaps, unfor- 
 tunately, been given to the district. 
 
 We reached Schandau just as the twilight 
 was beginning to deepen into night ; and taking 
 up our abode at the Bath Hotel, spent there an 
 exceedingly pleasant evening. Next morning 
 we considered ourselves fortunate in having 
 foundf about a bow-shot from the town, just 
 the sort of lodging of which we were in quest. 
 It was a detached house, furnished as Saxon 
 
222 
 
 RESIDENCE AT 
 
 SCHANDAU. 
 
 223 
 
 houses usually are, and containing ample room 
 for our establishment ; so we hired it on the 
 instant, and in a few days afterwards removed 
 thither with our children and domestics. 
 
 I confess myself to be one of those who 
 believe, that it is not always in the capital, or 
 among the busy haunts of a large town, that a 
 traveller has tlie best opportunities of making 
 himself acquainted with the character, and 
 habits, and dispositions of a strange people. To 
 the capital you doubtless turn, if your object 
 be to examine into the machinery of the 
 general government, or to hold converse with 
 the great or distinguished members of the 
 community, whether they deserve to be so ac- 
 counted because of any merit attaching to them- 
 selves, or owe their greatness to circumstances 
 not of their own creating. But of the people, 
 properly so called, a foreigner can see in a 
 capital very little. He may join them in their 
 public amusements ; he may observe their modes 
 of buying and selling ; he may listen to their 
 conversation in the streets, or at a table d'hote, 
 and form a correct enough judgment respecting 
 their skill as artisans; but of their character. 
 
 properly so called, that is to say, of the temper 
 of their minds, and of the causes which produce 
 it, he can know nothing. The state of society 
 in one large town resembles, in all essential 
 points, so closely the state of society in another, 
 that the traveller soon becomes bewildered, and 
 is not unapt to treat as peculiarities in om 
 place, habits which, in point of fact, extend 
 far beyond it. We resided in Schandau long 
 enough to afford opportunities for inquiry, of 
 which I did not fail to take advantage; and the 
 results of them I now venture, with aU possible 
 diffidence, to place on record. 
 
 I do not know how far the Saxon character 
 may have been affected by the late revolution, 
 but it did not present itself to me in the 
 amiable and attractive light, in which I was 
 once disposed to regard it. The people are 
 decidedly dull, and heavy, and prejudiced to an 
 extent which casts even the prejudices of John 
 Bull into the shade. In great and important 
 matters, I do not mean to say that they are 
 slow to be instructed by the experience even of 
 strangers. As has already been stated, they 
 are making prodigious efforts to improve both 
 
 II 
 
224 
 
 MANNERS OF 
 
 the trade and manufactures of their country, 
 while communication is becoming every day 
 more rapid, as well as more regular among 
 them. For the great roads are now excellent, 
 and a railway is in progress which, when com- 
 pleted, will bring Leipsig within a few hours' 
 drive of the capital. Yet in the minuter points 
 of domestic economy, — in the management of 
 their time, and the adaptation of themselves to 
 circumstances, the Saxons are as mulish and 
 bigoted a race as it has anywhere been my 
 fortune to mix withal. A Saxon would think 
 you mad, were you to suggest the possible 
 occurrence of events which should impose upon 
 him the necessity of dining, except at his accus- 
 tomed hour ; or of devoting a season which he 
 
 has been wont to set aside for relaxation, to 
 
 « 
 
 any serious or grave employment. A Saxon 
 has no notion whatever, that either he or his 
 neighbour may be hurried. He has been 
 accustomed to perform every given operation 
 in his own particular way, and not all the 
 reasoning which you can use, will convince him 
 that it might be improved upon. According 
 to his own view of the case, he belongs to the 
 
 THE PEOPLE. 
 
 225 
 
 wisest, and the bravest, and the most civilized 
 nation under heaven ; and hence, every attempt 
 on your part to wile him out of the circle 
 within which he has hitherto moved, will be 
 
 sure to fail. 
 
 The Saxon is neither a lively nor a domestic 
 animal, even in his recreations. Though the 
 evening of every day be given up to amuse- 
 ment,— during the summer in the open air, in 
 winter under cover, his tastes are such, that, 
 except when dancing, he rarely associates with 
 him either his wife or his sister. No doubt the 
 amiable couple walk arm in arm to the public 
 garden, or to the grass plat in front of the inn, 
 where the band is accustomed to play; but 
 having reached that point, they separate, as if by 
 mutual consent ; and while the husband applies 
 to smoking and drinking beer beside other hus- 
 bands, the wife attaches herself to a knot of 
 wives and maidens, who saunter about, or sit 
 apart at a table by themselves. In like 
 manner, when a soiree takes place during 
 winter, the men range themselves at one end 
 of the room, and the women at another; nay, 
 to such an extent is this indisposition to asso- 
 
 L 3 
 
226 
 
 MANNERS OP 
 
 date carried, that I have heard of places where 
 it was seriously proposed to have one public 
 assembly room for the men, and another for 
 the women. At Schandau, just before we 
 quitted it, the propriety of such an arrangement 
 was gravely mooted; whether or not it has 
 been carried into effect, I have not learned. 
 
 The Saxons, like other branches of the 
 German family, profess to be great dancers; 
 and the ball-rooms, even in such places as 
 Schandau, are carefully kept; yet are their 
 meetings, — I speak of those among the humbler 
 classes, — but dull affairs after all. We find 
 among them neither the vivacity of the French, 
 nor the gallantry of the Austrian, nor the 
 joyous and almost romantic devotion to the 
 fair which marks the manner of the Spanish 
 - peasant, — but simply a violent desire to keep 
 whirling round in the waltz, which seems to be 
 the siugle figure that is practised among them. 
 Their habit is, when the time of the festival is 
 settled, — and it befalls at certain seasons, such 
 as Whitsuntide, the anniversary of a saint's- 
 day, &c. &c., to elect a master of the cere- 
 monies, to whom they assign unlimited autho- 
 
 THE PEOPLE. 
 
 227 
 
 rity over the musicians. It is he that calls the 
 tune,— sets the dance in motion,— determines 
 when it shall cease, and how many couples 
 shall join in it ; and all this he performs with 
 an air of gravity and self-importance which is 
 truly edifying. Meanwhile each beau having 
 made arrangements with his belle, perhaps, 
 a good three months previous to the assembly, 
 adheres to her throughout the evening, though 
 his intercourse with her is limited to the mo- 
 ments which they spend together in the waltz, 
 and such as may be demanded by the walk to 
 and from the place of meeting. For here, a^ 
 in the public gardens, the youth drops off from 
 the maiden's side as soon as he shall have 
 handed her, with great politeness, to her seat ; 
 and, either, at the lower end of the hall, or in 
 some room adjoining, or in the open air, solaces 
 himself with his pipe till their turn for dancing 
 again comes round. I confess that all this 
 disappointed me much— for, to say the truth, 
 the spectacle became, after the first half hour, 
 
 exceedingly wearisome. 
 
 The Saxons cannot understand how pleasure 
 is to be derived from any pursuit which re- 
 
'I^^yj ^ 
 
 4 
 
 228 
 
 MANNERS OF 
 
 quires that a man's powers of endurance shall 
 in the most minute degree be taxed. The 
 students at the universities, and here and there 
 the pupils of a gymnasium, do, indeed, at fixed 
 seasons, set out upon pedestrian tours; but 
 men arrived at a more mature age seem to 
 regard a state of quiescence as the supreme 
 good in human affairs. I recollect on one 
 occasion making inquiry of the schoolmaster at 
 Schandau (a very excellent specimen of the 
 order to which he belongs,) as to the best route 
 to be followed in visiting the Great Winter- 
 berg, and being much surprised when he assured 
 me that he had himself never ascended it. I 
 demanded the cause of such an omission, of 
 course, — for the Great Winterberg is distant 
 from Schandau not more than six English 
 miles, and the magnificence of the view to 
 be obtained from its summit was a standing 
 subject of declamation everywhere. His answer 
 w^as, that he had no means of getting there. 
 "No means!" replied I; " why, it is within an 
 easv walk of you !" The honest man stared, 
 and said with perfect gravity, that he made a 
 point of never fatiguing himself by walking 
 
 THE PEOPLE. 
 
 229 
 
 when he could avoid it. Neither was he sm- 
 fiular in his antipathy to locomotion on foot. 
 The good people of Schandau indulged, indeed, 
 on high days and holidays, in a drive to some 
 of the remarkable points in their own neigh- 
 bourhood, or trusted themselves to the skill of 
 their boatmen on the river ; but beyond a stroll 
 to the lawn in front of the Bad Gafithof, or 
 at most a saunter up the glen, their love of 
 walking never carried them. They are, m 
 truth, an indolent race. 
 
 The same disposition which hinders the 
 schoolmaster from encountering a march of 
 twelve miles in order to indulge his natural 
 taste for fine scenery, displays itself in all the 
 games, and sports, and recreations of his neigh- 
 hours, whether they be children or upgiown 
 men. A Saxon boy struts about in his long 
 frock-coat, cap, and boots,-the very personi- 
 fication of a manikin. Such exercises ns 
 cricket, foot-ball, leaping, and running, seem not 
 to have ever entered into his contemplation ; 
 indeed, I cannot recall to my recollection a single 
 athletic game in which the rising generation 
 round me were at any time engaged. In like 
 
 ^i 
 
230 
 
 MANNERS OF 
 
 THE PEOPLE 
 
 231 
 
 manner the father of the manikin finds amuse- 
 ment from proceedings which by us would be 
 .regarded as subjects only of ridicule. At cer- 
 tain seasons of the year, for example, there are 
 -shooting-matches everyw^here, — w^hich so far 
 resemble our w^orn-out sport of the popinjay, 
 that the candidates for honour fire at a w^ooden 
 ^goose, which dangles from the top of a pole, 
 perhaps thirty or forty feet high. Or, if the 
 district be near the frontier, or amid royal 
 forests, where yagers keep guard, a fixed tar- 
 get is set up, and men shoot at it from an 
 assigned distance. All this is very good, — but 
 the Saxons, not content to enjoy the sport in 
 its native simplicity, must needs mix up with it 
 ■something of a theatrical display. Accordingly 
 the candidates march to the field of action with 
 a band of music playing before them ; sworded, 
 and feathered, and otherwise arrayed in all 
 sorts of fantastical habiliments. He who hap- 
 pens to have sent his ball nearest to the bull's- 
 eye in a previous trial, is honoured as the 
 captain in this, — and walking at the head of 
 the procession, is treated throughout the day 
 with the utmost deference. The trial ended, 
 
 there follows a dance, either, as at Schandau, 
 on a platform hutted in with boughs of trees 
 and moss,-or in one of the ball-saals of one of 
 the inns nearest to the arena. Yet is the 
 whole affair wonderfully flat and insipid. Men 
 shoot, with every or any kind of weapon 
 which they can procure. There is no distri- 
 buting of prizes by fair hands,-no election of 
 a queen of the revels,-nor anything else to 
 give to the arrangement "an air of romance ; 
 but the whole is gone through with faces 
 umvrinkled by a smile, and ends without 
 having excited one passion, either generous or 
 
 the reverse. 
 
 The Saxons, as they are very careful not to 
 trench on the rights or dignity of their neigh- 
 bours, so are they very tenacious of their own. 
 The merest peasants never meet without pull- 
 ing off their caps to one another; and to 
 return a woodcutter's salutation, except with a 
 naked head, subjects the stranger to a charge 
 of uncourtliness. So also the most minute 
 trespass on a man's field,-an accidental step 
 over the line of a pathway,-the slighest inter- 
 ference, in short, with aught which does not 
 
232 
 
 MANNERS OF 
 
 THE PEOPLE. 
 
 233 
 
 strictly belong to yourself, is treated as a grave 
 wrong. In like manner, when you enter into 
 a shop, you are expected to uncover your head, 
 and make a low bow, which the shopkeeper 
 returns with the air of a man who is about, not 
 to receive, but to confer an obligation. Neither 
 are you at liberty to purchase just what you 
 please, and no more. I was much amused one 
 day to find that the beer which my servant had 
 ordered to be sent* home, was not delivered; 
 and that the sturdy brewer had informed him 
 that he would not deliver it at all, because the 
 man had chosen to order just half the quantity 
 with which the artiste proposed to supply him. 
 As I am upon this subject, I may point out, 
 as a characteristic trait in the genius of the 
 people, that except in such places as Dresden 
 and Leipsig, the Saxon tradesmen are actuated 
 by no spirit of rivalry. If there be half a 
 dozen butchers, and as many brewers and mil- 
 lers in the same place, so far are they, even 
 where the custom is small, from seekinnr to 
 undersell one another, that they make an ar- 
 rangement among themselves, so that he who 
 kills to-day shall not kill two days afterwards; 
 
 and he who brews this week shall abstain from 
 brewing again till his turn comes round. There 
 is something in all this so different from what 
 we meet with elsewhere, that one hardly knows 
 whether to be amused or annoyed by it. 
 
 I should say that the Saxons are not partial 
 to foreigners. Rude they seldom are,— but 
 there is no frankness, no bonltmimie about 
 them, at least in the rural districts. It struck 
 me, likewise, that their petty tradesmen and 
 bouermen were a good deal infected by the 
 spirit of « liberty and equality." Not that in 
 the country there is any particular fondness 
 for the sort of constitutional government under 
 which they live. On the contrary, the com- 
 plaints are numerous of the expenses attending 
 it. Indeed, the people say that they have 
 gained nothing more by their parliament, than 
 the privilege of supporting three hundred 
 masters instead of one. Yet are they well 
 pleased to impress you with the conviction that 
 each Saxon citizen is a free man ; and that if 
 he does vail his bonnet to the prince or the 
 graif, the act is one of mere good-breeding, and 
 by no means a sign of inferiority. Again, my 
 
234 
 
 ABSENCE OF 
 
 own experience compels me to say of this class, 
 that they are exceedingly prone to overreach 
 you where they can. A stranger need never 
 !Scniple to offer to a Saxon dealer at least one- 
 third less than he demands for any article. 
 iThe tradesman may not choose to ax^cept the 
 joffer, but he is never offended by it. 
 
 When we come to the region of morals I 
 should say, that, though higher than that of 
 Prussia, the standard in Saxony is not very 
 elevated. . There is here the same lamentable 
 deficiency of religious principle, w^iich we find 
 all over Protestant Germany. People may or 
 may not go to church on a Sunday, — and their 
 children tliey send to school because the law 
 requires it, — but the practices which, more 
 than all others, mark the degree of reverence 
 in which men hold their religion, are here 
 unknown. I never heard of a family in which 
 prayers were daily said, nor knew an instance 
 ^f a child being trained by its parent to the 
 habit of private devotion ; and, as to the mode 
 of observing the Lord's-day, I confess that I 
 xJo not see on what grounds a Christian can 
 defend it Not content with holding their 
 
 EELIGIOUS FEELING. 
 
 235 
 
 little revels in the evening, before the inn, or 
 amid the public gardens, they seem to regard 
 the prosecution of their ordinary employments 
 as no breach of the Divine will. I have re- 
 peatedly seen both men and women hoeing in 
 the fields, and working in the shoe-shop, just 
 as busily on a Sunday as on any other day in 
 
 the week. 
 
 It is idle to suppose that where such practices 
 prevail, and the finger of public censure is 
 never pointed against them, that there can 
 exist any principle of genuine religion. Casu- 
 ists may differ as to the comparative harmless- 
 ness of the Sunday evening ball, or the lounge 
 over a can of beer, while bands are playing in 
 the open air ; but he would be a bold reasoner 
 who, on any grounds not purely infidel, would 
 venture to defend the absolute desecration of 
 the Sabbath. And I "am afraid that the con- 
 sequences of laxity in this particular show 
 themselves in Saxony, exactly as we might 
 expect. The Saxons are not much addicted 
 to intoxication. They are too poor, perhaps, 
 to indulge in a vice which bears as hard upon 
 the purse as on the constitution ; but in other 
 
236 
 
 CONDITION OF THE WOMEN. 
 
 RELIEF OF THE POOR. 
 
 237 
 
 respects the moral tie sits upon them loosely 
 enough. 
 
 There is a great profession of chivalrous feel- 
 ing among the Germans generally; and the 
 Saxons are not without their share of it ; yet 
 the burdens imposed here upon the feebler sex 
 are terrible. All the most toilsome out-of- 
 doors tasks seem to devolve upon the women. 
 You rarely meet a female peasant, from the age 
 of nine to that of seventy, but she is either bent 
 double with the load which she carries on her 
 back, or M'ields the hoe or the spade with sur- 
 prising dexterity. The consequence is, that 
 though often very pretty as children, the poor 
 creatures grow up to be hideous as women; 
 and long before they have past their term of 
 middle life, both the appearance and the infir- 
 mities of old age overtake them. In Saxon 
 Switzerland, in particular, the women lose their 
 teeth, and begin to exhibit symptoms of goitre, 
 often as early as nineteen ; and at thirty she is 
 an exception to the almost universal rule, who 
 retains so much as the wreck of a youthful 
 bearing about her. 
 
 There are no^ many mendicants in Saxony ; 
 
 neither is the number of persons receiving 
 parochial relief very considerable. Some pau- 
 pers, however, there are in every township, and 
 for the maintenance of these, the law has made 
 a provision. First of all, a collection is made 
 every Sunday in church, of which the proceeds 
 are handed over to the proper authorities ; and 
 out of this, small weekly payments are made to 
 widows and other persons in a state of absolute 
 destitution. As the weekly collections, how- 
 ever, rarely suffice, an assessment is levied on 
 the parishioners ; the demand from each being 
 proportioned to the rent actually paid by him, 
 or to the estimated value of his property. So 
 far it will be seen that the usages of Saxony 
 and England correspond ; but the parallel goes 
 no further. In England, we give no out-of- 
 doors relief; in Saxony, they have no work- 
 houses ; in England, we used to pay a pauper 
 as much as twelve or fifteen shillings a week ; 
 in Saxony, the largest weekly payments never 
 exceed eight groschens. 
 
 There is, perhaps, no country in the world 
 where more is made of the land than in Saxony. 
 Every spot of earth which seems capable of 
 
238 
 
 AGRICULTURE. 
 
 FRUIT-TREES. 
 
 230. 
 
 p^i 
 
 giving a return, is cultivated; and the very 
 meadows are mowed twice or thrice in the 
 course of each summer. You never meet such 
 a thing as a common, or waste, while the forests 
 are all guarded with a strictness that is propor- 
 tionate to their value. As farmers, I should 
 say, that the Saxons were more clean and in- 
 dustrious than skilful. The fields are always 
 well cleai^ed of weeds, and in their crops they 
 have a succession ; but the favourite grain is 
 rye ; and either because it does not require to 
 be pampered, or that manure is a scarce article 
 with them, they do not seem disposed to fatten 
 the soil too frequently. The breed of cattle 
 is small, their management of a dairy in no 
 respect peculiar, and their butter generally in- 
 diiTerent. To make it weigh tlie heavier, they 
 overload it with salt, and cannot be persuaded, 
 even by the offer of an increased price, to inter- 
 mit the practice. 
 
 The game-laws in Saxony are very rigidly 
 enforced; and every bird that flies is taken 
 under their protection. JMy servant, on one 
 occasion, killed a young hawk with a stone. 
 He w^as instantly pounced upon by a forester. 
 
 and had to pay a fine of a dollar for the tres^ 
 pass. Fresh-water fish, on the other hand, be- 
 long, as with us, to the individuals through 
 whose property the rivers run ; and where the 
 rivers are hired by millers or others, they are 
 usually let together w4th portions of the stream. 
 We found that both millers and other lessees 
 were exceedingly tenacious of the fishing. They" 
 would not always give leave to angle at all ; 
 and when they did, they invariably required 
 that we should pay for the fish that were taken. 
 In like manner the stranger who fancies that 
 the fruit-trees which garnish the sides of the 
 great roads have been planted for his use, will 
 be taught, should he put forth his hand, that to 
 him the fruit is forbidden. The trees in ques- 
 tion, with their crops of cherries, apples, or 
 pears, all belong to the occupiers of the land 
 nearest to w^hich they flourish ; and are guarded 
 carefully by persons appointed for the puri>ose, 
 from the beginning of autumn till their riches 
 are gathered in. 
 
 Though I have spoken of the Saxons as a 
 people little oppressed with the enthusiasm of 
 reli^-ion, I do not mean to be understood as con- 
 
 .i...,JiiW 
 
 im 
 
240 
 
 POKM OF CHURCH SERVICE. 
 
 FORM OF CHURCH SERVICE. 
 
 241 
 
 •(I 
 
 demning them in the gross. At Schandau, the 
 church was tolerably well attended once on 
 every Lord's day ; and as I do not remember to 
 have seen anywhere the order of the service 
 described, it may not be amiss if I here supply 
 the omission. 
 
 I will take as my model a communion day, — 
 the festival of Whitsunday, which everywhere 
 throughout Christendom, except among our own 
 Dissenters, is religiously observed. At ten 
 o'clock in the morning, the congregation assem- 
 bles within an edifice, which, from the effect of 
 the first glance round, you might easily mistake 
 for a Roman Catholic place of worship. To- 
 wards the east stands the altar, a gorgeously- 
 ornamented pile, with paintings, and statues of 
 angels and saints; and gilding and a crucifix 
 reared above it on the screen behind. The 
 table itself was covered this day with a rich 
 velvet drapery inlaid and fringed with gold; 
 over which, at one corner, was drawn a white 
 damask cloth. Two gilded candlesticks of 
 great size, containing lighted tapers of appro- 
 priate dimensions, stood one at each extremity 
 of the table. Two china vases, piled up with 
 
 all the flowers then in season, came between 
 them, while more in front, were the chalice, 
 paten, cup, &c., all apparently made of silver- 
 gilt. Moreover, along the walls on either side, 
 rude paintings were set up, of various passages 
 in the life of our Lord or his servants ; such as 
 the austere spirits of our Covenanters would 
 have condemned as enticements to idolatry, 
 and which the eye of taste could not behold 
 with any degree of approbation. 
 
 Along the body of the church are arranged 
 rows of open benches, which are all distributed 
 into separate sittings, as each sitting is marked 
 with the name of the individual for whose use it 
 has been set apart. Here the women congre- 
 gate, without any man being allowed to mix 
 with them ; and there they sit in their holiday 
 attire ; the heads of the young being bare, the 
 married wearing oddly-shaped caps, but all 
 agreeing in this point, that each carries one, if 
 not more pocket-handkerchiefs in her hand. A 
 pocket-handkerchief displayed, seems indeed to 
 be essential to the full-dress of a Saxon woman of 
 the humbler classes. Meanwhile, the men take 
 possession of the galleries, which are carried 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
242 FORM OF CHURCH SERVICE. 
 
 round three sides of the building, and arrange 
 themselves upon seats which rise, as in our own 
 churches, like the benches of an amphitheatre, 
 one above another. Not that pews are wholly 
 wanting. Beneath these galleries, and glared, 
 and set round more like boxes in a theatre than 
 anything else, are recesses, within which the mag- 
 nates of the township are accommodated ; and 
 where, to do them justice, the burgomaster, the 
 stadtschriber, the commandant of the jagers, 
 and the other officers of state, seemed, with 
 their wives and families, to join heartily in the 
 celebration of public worship. 
 
 In conducting this, the first thing done is to 
 sing a portion of the Psalms, not from any 
 metrical version, but from the version which is 
 attached to the ordinary service-book. The 
 psalmody is upheld, with might and main, by 
 all of the congregation that have musical voices, 
 and by very many who have not ; but here, at 
 least, there was no accompaniment of instru- 
 ments. By-and-by, the minister, who had not 
 yet made his appearance, came, fresh from his 
 robing-room, in a black Geneva cloak and cap, 
 without removing the latter of which, he bowed 
 
 FORM OF CHURCH SERVICE. 
 
 243 
 
 reverently before the altar. Then he began to 
 chaunt, the people continuing silent all the 
 while, and many of them kneeling; till in a 
 few minutes he turned round, and blessed them. 
 The benediction was succeeded by a renewal of 
 the congregational singing, during which the 
 minister disappeared, that he might return, 
 however, when the psalm was ended, and go on 
 with the service. This time, he read some 
 prayers from the service-book, himself standing 
 all the while with his back to the altar ; and 
 then moved, while the people sang again, to- 
 wards the pulpit. From it, — ^for there is no 
 desk, — the collect, epistle, and gospel for the 
 day were read, the reading having been prefaced 
 by a brief extemporaneous explanation of the 
 nature of the festival which they had met to 
 celebrate. Last of all, the gospel was taken as 
 a text, and a discourse delivered on the benefits 
 which accrued to the world from the descent of 
 the Holy Spirit ; and finally, at its termination, 
 and it did not exceed a quarter of an hour, a 
 concluding hymn was sung. 
 
 Such was the order of the morning service ; 
 over and above which the sacrament of the 
 
 M 2 
 
 1:1 
 
 I 
 
244 ADMINISTRATION OF THE SACRAMENT. 
 
 Lord's Supper was this day administered, and I 
 remained, of course, as multitudes did besides, 
 who without partaking, seemed desirous of 
 witnessing the ceremonial. The number of 
 communicants was exceedingly small; they 
 amounted, in all, to eighteen, and no more; 
 that is, to eight men and ten women, out of a 
 population in the parish of three thousand souls. 
 They advanced by pairs, the men first, and the 
 women following, to the left side of the altar ; 
 and having made two or three low obeisances, 
 stood erect. The minister approached with the 
 paten in his hand, and they, holding out their 
 tongues, received each a wafer. This done, they 
 passed round the altar to the rear, leaving the 
 next pair to go through the same ritual ; and 
 then, when all had received the wafer, all ap- 
 peared again, in pairs, to partake of the wine 
 also. When they had drunk, (and the minister 
 held the cup to their lips,) they bowed reve- 
 rently, and retired. 
 
 We are never fair judges of the solemnity of 
 religious rites which are presented to us for the 
 first time ; but I must confess that the whole 
 routine of the Lutheran church struck me as 
 
 STATE OF THE CLERGY. 
 
 245 
 
 being a good deal deficient in decorum. The 
 people, for example, sit to sing the psalms ; and 
 appear to count as much on the noise which 
 they make, as on the melody that arises out of 
 it. One circumstance, however, in the cere- 
 
 9 
 
 monial of the day, affected me a good deal. 
 For about eight minutes there was a profound 
 silence throughout the building, the minister 
 having exhorted his congregation to seek God 
 in secret prayer; and as they knelt, many of 
 them with their faces sunk in their hands, I 
 could not but feel that I was looking upon a 
 congregation of worshippers. Alas ! the delu- 
 sion did not long continue ; but let that pass. 
 Of the minister I can truly say that he seemed 
 much in earnest, a great deal more so, as far as 
 I at least could judge, than the people to whom 
 he addressed himself. 
 
 With this same worthy clergyman I made 
 a point of forming an acquaintance. I found 
 him, like his brother functionary in Prussia, 
 very poor, yet nowise dissatisfied. He had 
 held his benefice three-and-thirty years, and 
 expressed himself abundantly pleased with his 
 parishioners, though a short cross-examination 
 
 1 
 
 
 i 
 
246 
 
 STATE OF THE CLEEGY. 
 
 led to the discovery that very little or no fami- 
 liar intercourse took place between them. 
 When I add that the principal friend and com- 
 panion of the pastor's daughter was the girl 
 who served us in the capacity of housemaid, 
 the sort of station in society filled by a Saxon 
 country clergyman, will be fully understood. 
 And there will not, I suspect, be required any 
 tedious argument to demonstrate that such a 
 man can have slender influence among his 
 people. 
 
 247 
 
 1 
 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 EXCURSIONS TO THE KUHSTALL.— THE BASTEI.— LEINIEN- 
 STEIN.— THESCHRAMSTEIN.— LEGENDS CONNECTED WITH 
 
 THESE PLACES. . - 
 
 There are various points in Saxon Switzerland 
 which the traveller is of course expected to 
 visit ; and of which, though description in such 
 cases can ill supply the place of vision, it is 
 necessary that I should give some account. 
 Such are the Kuhstall, the Bastei, the Schram- 
 stein, Leinienstein, the Outwalder Grund, and 
 the Lesser and Greater Winterberg, of which, 
 in the order in which I saw them, as well as of 
 the circumstances attending our visit to each, 
 I will venture, even at the risk of saying more 
 than my subject might warrant, to speak in 
 
 succession. 
 
 It was on a beautiful May morning, when 
 the lagging winter seemed at last to have de- 
 parted, that we quitted our home beside the 
 Kirnetz in a body, to inspect the wonders of 
 the Kuhstall. The children, with their mother 
 
 
248 
 
 EXCURSION TO 
 
 and nurse, occupied the carriage, the male por- 
 tion of the household set out on foot; and 
 there was conveyed, for the refreshment of all, 
 in baskets, sundry cold pies, and fow Is, and wine 
 and other viands, such as hungry men and 
 women love to encounter in the open air, and on 
 the green sward. Our route lay up one of those 
 romantic passes, which form, as I have else- 
 where explained, the glory of this peculiar 
 scenery. Bright and warm over the tops of the 
 pines the sun looked down upon us ; the birch 
 was putting out its first fresh leaf, and loading 
 the air with perfume, while the rivulet, swollen, 
 but not rendered turbid by recent rains, poured 
 his waters merrily down the glen. It was alto- 
 gether a day and a scene created to make hearts 
 happy that can gather their best enjoyments 
 from nature ; and sure I am that a group more 
 fully alive to nature's influence, has neither 
 before nor since, traversed that romantic path. 
 
 The pass which we were now ascending dif- 
 fers so far from that which communicates be- 
 tween Schandau and Hohenstein, that not at 
 any point do the hills close in to such a degree 
 as to shut out the sunshine ; while here and 
 
 
 I 
 
 , 
 
 THE KUHSTALL. 
 
 249 
 
 there they fall off from one another, and leave 
 a tolerable breadth of green meadow between. 
 The stream, likewise, the same upon the bank 
 of which our house was planted, is broader and 
 better adapted to purposes of industry than the 
 Hohenstein rivulet ; and is accordingly bridled 
 at three or four different reaches, by saw and 
 flour-mills. They are all, however, so rude in 
 their construction as to correspond well with 
 the natural objects round them; and hence, 
 instead of diminishing, they tend rather to in- 
 crease the general effect of the picture. And 
 to-day, as if good fortune had determined that 
 nothing should be wanting to fill up the mea- 
 sure of our delight, we discovered, as we drew 
 towards the uppermost of the whole, that more 
 than its wonted tenants were in occupation of 
 it. The sound of sweet music came from the 
 miller's door, and wiled us on to listen. We 
 obeyed the impulse, and found two men, one 
 of them blind, and both poor, touching very 
 sweetly the strings of their harps, and singing 
 to their own accompaniment. Their songs were 
 plaintive and wild, and seemed perfectly to 
 accord both with the nature of their profession, 
 
 M 3 
 
 if 
 
 .1 
 
 s I 
 
 l1 
 
 i 
 
260 
 
 EXCURSION TO 
 
 and the localities amid which they then exer- 
 cised it ; so we praised their skill, gave them 
 some small coins, and resumed our onward 
 
 progress. 
 
 The remarkable rock, or rather mass of sand- 
 stone, to which the people of the country have 
 given the name of Kuhstall, is distant from 
 Schandau about six or seven English miles. 
 While following the road that has been drawn 
 through the pass, you see nothing of it, for it 
 is thrown back behind the first range of hills 
 that close you in; and you must quit your 
 carriage, and traverse a considerable space of 
 pine-wood, ere it present itself. You are ac- 
 cordingly warned by your postilion of the point 
 where it becomes necessary to alight; and 
 seeing before you a rustic bridge, you take 
 advantage of it to cross the stream. It leads 
 to the commencement of a narrow footpath, by 
 which you gradually ascend the hill, advancing, 
 however, all the time nearer and nearer to the 
 source of the stream,— till the path makes a 
 sudden turn to the right, and you are carried, 
 as it were, into the bowels of the mountain. 
 By-and-by you emerge from the pine-wood 
 
 THE KUHSTALL. 
 
 251 
 
 
 
 
 which has hitherto sheltered you, upon a trod- 
 den road ; which, winding round, conducts you, 
 still on an ascent, till it deposits you at the 
 mouth of an avenue, so formed as to present 
 the appearance of a tunnel, of which the sides 
 and the arch are branches. That likewise you 
 penetrate,— and behold, when you regain the 
 open air, the Kuhstall itself is before you. It 
 is a huge and solid rock, — connected, if I may 
 so express myself, with the main land, by a 
 narrow isthmus ; and rising even on this side,— - 
 that is, from the isthmus considered as a base, 
 
 to the height of two hundred feet, at least, 
 
 into the air. And in the very centre of it, 
 just where the isthmus, or natural bridge, ends, 
 is an enormous arch of nature's formation; 
 through which you behold the wild and tan- 
 gled forest, and a fragment of the rocky boun- 
 dary that encloses it. The whole thing is, 
 indeed, exceedingly grand and striking; so 
 much so, that I defy you, when it first bursts 
 upon your view, not to stand still for some 
 moments, and gaze upon it silently. 
 - Imposing as this view of the Kuhstall is, 
 however, (and the arch measures between 
 
 I 
 
252 
 
 EXCURSION TO 
 
 seventy and eighty feet in height,) it is not for 
 the mere purpose of enjoying it, and it only, 
 that you have come hither. You must pass 
 the mound,— and, standing beneath the rock's 
 colossal roof, gaze abroad upon the landscape 
 which wooes your wonder. I have looked upon 
 scenes of desolation many times,— but aught 
 more perfectly thrilling,— more thoroughly re- 
 presentative of a world recently escaped from 
 a state of chaos, I cannot even imagine. When 
 occupying the platform under shelter of the 
 arch, you are standing at least two hundred 
 feet from the plain or basin beneath you. I 
 do not know what its dimensions may be, but 
 it is everywhere overgrown with a forest of 
 trees ; here and there relieved by broad avenues 
 and open spaces, doubtless the work of human 
 hands, though not perceptibly so. Its back- 
 ground, again, is a semicircle of precipices ;— 
 the faces of such hills as I have described as 
 hemming in the pass that leads from Hohen- 
 stein to Schandau,— of the Lesser Winterberg, 
 
 of the hills connected with it, and bo round, 
 
 in a wide detour, to the back of the Probitch- 
 Thur. And, as if nature had resolved that 
 
 THE KUHSTALL. 
 
 253 
 
 
 : 
 
 here, at least, her work of wonder should be 
 complete, each particular mountain and crag 
 seems to have been so planted as that its 
 wildest and most rugged front should, in every 
 direction, be turned towards you. Nor is this 
 mighty amphitheatre left without characteristic 
 objects, here and there, to vary the aspect even 
 of its arena. Sheer and abrupt from the depth 
 of the gorge uprises, about a mile and a half 
 distant, a rock, similar in its general formation 
 to the Kuhstall itself ; while at intervals be- 
 tween it and the mountains, from which, by 
 some fierce convulsion, they seem, at one period 
 or another, to have been torn off, — others, of 
 less magnitude, yet scarce of less imposing 
 effect, push themselves into notice. 
 
 I have no power of language wherewith to do 
 justice to the absolute desolation of the scene 
 on which we then looked down. As far as the 
 eye could reach, there was not, except where 
 our own group was assembled, so much as a 
 symptom of animal life; for the very voice 
 of the singing-bird was mute. The same- 
 ness of the pine-forest, too, produced a power- 
 ful effect, for the pine prevails here unrivalled ; 
 
 m 
 
254 
 
 EXCURSION TO 
 
 THE KUHSTALL. 
 
 255 
 
 and the efforts of its straggling detacliments, 
 which toil, as it were, to scale the sides of the 
 rock itself, had no tendency to destroy the 
 illusion. No wonder that the genius of Ger- 
 many should, when excited, break forth into 
 the extravagancies of which our more sobered 
 imaginations complain. If ever the spirit of 
 evil has been allowed to visit this earth, amid 
 such scenery as you behold from the Kuhstall 
 we might expect to find him ; nor can we be 
 surprised that a people to whom that scene is 
 familiar, should be open to impressions which 
 appear to spring entirely from the influence of 
 local horrors on a sensitive mind. 
 
 The rock which I am now describing derives 
 its name from the uses to which, during the 
 Thirty Years' War, it was turned by the pea- 
 santry of the adjoining townships. Driven 
 from their homes, they took shelter amid these 
 fastnessess ; and, finding in this isolated mass 
 a cave large enough to contain their cattle, 
 they penned them there. Hence the name 
 Kuhstall,— that is, the stall or stable for the 
 cattle. Long prior to the days of religious 
 warfare, however, tradition asserts that it was 
 
 
 held by a robber-knight, who kept all the sur- 
 rounding districts in terror, and levied contri- 
 butions from the most powerful of the nobles 
 themselves. Moreover the Saxon freebooter, 
 like Gilderoy, seems to have been of gentle 
 bearing ;— at least the story goes, that he won 
 the heart of a fair girl, the daughter of the 
 lord of Hohenstein, and bore her off, in spite 
 of her father's watchfulness, to his hold in the 
 wilderness. A terrible feud ensued,— for the 
 father was relentless, and the robber nothing 
 daunted by the power that was brought against 
 him ; but in the end the latter was besieged in 
 his keep. It was a tedious operation, inasmuch 
 as by no other approaches than through refts in 
 the rock could the castle be assailed, and for 
 many months he set his enemies at defiance. 
 His wife, too, for such the lady had become, 
 bore him a son while thus cooped up ; and the 
 small natural chamber in which the accouche- 
 ment took place, is still shown. But famine 
 at length performed its oflSce. The gallant 
 freebooter was compelled to surrender. Alas ! 
 for the issue, and woe worth the unforgiving 
 temper of a father who could not pity his own 
 
 .1 
 
256 
 
 EXCURSION TO 
 
 child. The gallant freebooter was hanged from 
 the branch of a tree that grew beneath his 
 castle wall, and the disconsolate widow shut 
 herself up in a convent, where she died. 
 
 We dined right merrily under the arch of 
 the Kuhstall, and at the conclusion of the 
 meal, some of us made our way down the face 
 of the rock, and plunged into the forest. There 
 reigned solitude, the deepest and the most 
 solemn. Not a bough was waving, not a 
 grasshopper chirping, not the trace of human 
 dwelling or human labour broke in upon our 
 loneliness. Our object was to scale the other 
 rock, of which I have spoken as nodding from 
 the middle of the arena to the Kuhstall, and 
 we pushed for it, well nigh at random, amid 
 the gloom of overshadowing branches. We 
 had traversed, perhaps, half the interval which 
 separates them, when we came suddenly upon 
 a sort of glade, — an open space from which the 
 trees had been removed, and of which the 
 surface was covered with a rich green sward. 
 From the further corner, just within the shelter 
 of the forest, a faint wreath of blue smoke was 
 ascending; and with curiosity a good deal 
 
 THE KUHSTALL. 
 
 257 
 
 
 sharpened, we made towards it. It came from 
 a charcoal-burner's hut, and the burner himself, 
 apparently the sole denizen of the wilderness, 
 was plying his wild trade hard by. It was 
 impossible to look upon him without calling to 
 mind Schiller's striking romaunt, in which the 
 charcoal-burners play so conspicuous a part. 
 Our friend, it is true, had nothing indicative of 
 the ferocity which Schiller attributes to his 
 burners ; on the contrary, he was a civil, mild- 
 spoken man,— but the place where we found 
 him,— the occupation in which he was engaged, 
 —his dingy garb, and blackened countenance, 
 all brought back the poet's magnificent descrip- 
 tion to my mind, and made me feel that, after 
 all, there was no extravagance in it. Both 
 Schiller and Weber were familiar with the 
 scenery of the Saxon Switzerland : no wonder 
 that both should have delighted in descriptions 
 of the sublime and the supernatural. 
 
 If the desolation of the scene had affected 
 us strongly, much more were we struck with 
 the utter loneliness that prevailed, as well at 
 the base of the arch to which, with some diffi- 
 culty, we attained, as on its summit. We were 
 
 Iff 
 
 li( 
 
258 
 
 JEXCURSION TO 
 
 
 in a wild glen, overspread with detached masses, 
 which lay here and there iu all sorts of gro- 
 tesque combinations, as if the earthquake that 
 tore them from their beds in the earth had 
 occurred but yesterday. Behind, and on either 
 hand, was the pathless forest, while immediately 
 in our front uprose, out of a foundation of 
 crumbling sandstone, a rock so sheer, and 
 abrupt, and massive, as to resemble more some 
 tower erected by the hands of the Titans, than 
 a work of nature's formation. Moreover, while 
 we stood to gaze upon it with feelings not far 
 removed from the superstitious, two noble red 
 deer came forth from a thicket hard by, and 
 stared us in the face. Either the human form 
 must have been unfamiliar to them, or they 
 were so completely surprised as to have lost 
 their natural shyness; for they exhibited no 
 symptoms of alarm. On the contrary, having 
 eyed us for perhaps a couple of minutes, and 
 snuffed the air as if in defiance, they turned 
 round, and trotted away so leisurely, as to 
 induce the conviction that not fear, but natural 
 instinct,— the desire of finding out some more 
 convenient lair,— had tempted them to avoid 
 
 THE KUHSTALL. 
 
 259 
 
 us at all. In like manner, after we had 
 squeezed ourselves through a fissure, and with 
 much trouble and some risk, gained the top of 
 the rock, we found that of any previous visit 
 from civilized man, it exhibited not a trace. 
 Snakes and adders crossed us at every step, 
 the heather waved high and rank about our 
 knees, and the very hawks, and kites, and other 
 birds of prey, flew screaming from their eyries 
 among the crevices beneath us. 
 
 We sat on that throne of a ruined world a 
 full half hour, unable to withdraw ourselves 
 from the magnificent scene which it opened 
 out; and then, with the spirit of adventure 
 whetted rather than appeased, struck once more 
 across the wilderness, in order to scale the 
 Lesser Winterberg. We found this an opera- 
 tion of much less difficulty than the ascent of 
 the detached rock. There is an excellent 
 winding path cut along the face of the hill, 
 which carries you to the ridge; where, over- 
 hanging the precipice, a sort of summer-house 
 has been erected to commemorate the suc- 
 cessful issue of a contest between one of the 
 electors of Saxony and an infuriated deer. 
 
!^;il! I 
 
 260 
 
 EXCURSION TO 
 
 Over the door of the summer-house we read 
 the following inscription: — 
 
 Mons prope Boiemos, fort alta cacumina saltus 
 
 Acri de gelido, nomina fecit Hyems. 
 Hie nitidura Augustus cervura per tesqua secutus 
 
 Precipitem scopulis glande crepaiite dedit. 
 Lapsus atrox fecit, cervi alterentur et artus 
 
 Atque caro, ut nullis usibus apta foret. 
 Ergo voluptatem capiens ex laude parentis 
 
 Cliristianus nomen, frontique rcque, probans, 
 Isti ne veniant aliquando oblivia facto 
 
 Poni per montes, hse monumenta jubet. 
 Utnimque Heroem celebrabit fama perennis 
 
 Et genus etemum nomen in orbe dabit, 
 Faxit summa trius sobolis, ut cara parentis 
 
 Sit virtuti pari, sit quoque bonore pari. 
 
 From the windows of this monument, a 
 small circular turret, you command a view still 
 more extensive than from either of the rival 
 points in the amphitheatre. It is not, however, 
 so savagely wild; because, being elevated a 
 good way above the other hills, your eye ranges 
 over them to cultivated fields, and hamlets, and 
 villages, and other manifestations of human 
 vicinage, yet is it in every respect inconceivably 
 fine. But we could not afford to linger long 
 among its beauties. The sun was already low 
 in the heavens ; we had a couple of miles to 
 
 THE KUHSTALL. 
 
 261 
 
 walk ere rejoining our party at the Kuhstall, 
 and then the descent of the pass to accomplish 
 in order to reach our home. We made good 
 the whole in excellent time, and entered our 
 quiet dwelling about nine o'clock at night, dizzy 
 with the remembrance of the glories which we 
 had witnessed, and intent on pushing our 
 researches into other quarters. 
 
 The next show-place which we resolved to 
 visit was the Bastei; and we carried the project 
 into execution on the second day after that 
 which had been spent so agreeably at the 
 Kuhstall. Our preparations for this enterprise 
 corresponded in all their details with those 
 which had been previously made, and the 
 results were in no degree less satisfactory. To- 
 day we passed in our outward progress over the 
 sloping sides of the hills, and beheld around us 
 corn-field and meadow, hamlet and church, with 
 here and there the top of one of the detached 
 and beetling crags, which rise everywhere from 
 amid dense forests like huge towers. On our 
 left were Leinienstein and Konigstein,— the 
 former on our own bank of the Elbe, the latter 
 cut off from us by his waters ; on the right the 
 
262 
 
 THE BASTEI. 
 
 Schramstein, with the Greater Winterberg in 
 the back-ground ; while behind, were hills and 
 glens similar to those among which we had 
 established ourselves, and only so far less 
 striking, that they seemed to merge more gra- 
 dually into regular uplands. In front, again, 
 ■was what bore the appearance of a wall, set 
 ■with basaltic columns. It closed in the scene, 
 like a frame ; and constituted the ridge which 
 winds, in a sort of semicircle, all the way from 
 Hohenstein and Brand to the Bastei. 
 
 There is a point on the road from Schandau 
 to the Bastei, where the pedestrian, and the tra- 
 veller by a carriage, are accustomed to separate. 
 It is near the bed of an isolated crag, under 
 the left front of which the footman wends his 
 ■way, while his more luxurious companion is 
 carried round its right face, and so up a steep 
 defile, towards the rear of the Bastion hill. 
 As it appears to me that there is no mode of 
 conveyance half so agreeable as that with 
 which nature has supplied us, I quitted the 
 carriage, and, attended by Mr. Stewart and my 
 eldest boy, followed the route which the posti- 
 lion pointed out. It led us down a gentle 
 
 THE BASTEI. 
 
 263 
 
 declivity, well wooded, and beautifully broken, 
 to a hollow road, by pursuing which we arrived 
 at the village of Rathen, and opened out a 
 glimpse of the Elbe. There, upon our right 
 hand, and uplifting itself like a wall, stood the 
 Bastei,— a strange, grotesque, and most terrific 
 chain of precipices, which falling back in the 
 centre, and pushing forward two angles, have 
 won a name for themselves, from the resem- 
 blance which they are assumed to bear to the 
 Bastion in fortification. A narrow path was 
 shown to us by the villagers, as conducting to 
 the summit of one of these angles, and we 
 struck into it immediately. 
 
 Once more I must plead in excuse of the 
 meagre description that follows, the total inade- 
 quacy of language to deal with such a subject. 
 Let the reader imagine, if he can, a straggling 
 village, running along the foot of a green hill. 
 Through this he passes, and then, by a gradual 
 ascent! he arrives at a spot where the scene aU 
 at once changes its character, and there, by an 
 impulse, to analyse which he has neither the 
 power nor the inclination, he is constrained to 
 stand still. He occupies now a sort of projec- 
 
264 
 
 THK BASTEI. 
 
 tion on the mountain's base, whence he looks 
 forth upon a deep, dark, and wooded basin, 
 around which are gathered a semicircle of 
 rocks, loftier, bolder, and more gigantic in their 
 proportions than any which, even in this land of 
 precipice and cliff, have as yet come under bis 
 notice. Unlike the area of the Kuhstall, how- 
 ever, the basin of the Bastei is narrow in its 
 dimensions ; I do not think that its diameter 
 can exceed a thousand yards. But anything 
 more sublime, anything more deeply, darkly 
 desolate, it is hard to conceive how even nature 
 herself could produce. The very pines that 
 wave in the abyss look like haunted things ; and 
 there are some so completely overshadowed, 
 that the sun's rays never reach them. 
 
 Having gazed upon this wild panorama till 
 he is satisfied, the traveller resumes his pro- 
 gress, and winding continually upwards, is car- 
 ried, at last, to the summit. The scene which 
 had been grand before, becomes here absolutely 
 terrific, for the Bastei consists of a ridge of 
 serried rocks, which are connected together by 
 wooden bridges, each overhanging a gulf, to 
 look down upon which, without turning giddy, 
 
 THE BASTEI. 
 
 265 
 
 requires almost more than a common share of 
 nerve. Close under these rocks, on one side, is 
 the Elbe, diminished to such a degree, that a 
 boat which lay on the shore, seemed like a 
 child's toy, while the noble river himself had 
 dwindled to a very mill-race. On the other 
 side, again, is that dark, deep gorge of which I 
 have already spoken, with here and there a 
 columnar mass projecting out of it ; and the 
 tall, graceful pines climbing everywhere like 
 parasites, till soil even for them fails, and the 
 rock stands forth in its barren magnificence. 
 It is quite impossible that, by description, any 
 idea of such a scene can be communicated ; I 
 doubt whether the pencil, with all its creative 
 powers, might hope to do it justice. 
 
 Over these dizzy platforms we made our way, 
 halting from time to time as each conducted us 
 to some new wonder, till from the very pinnacle 
 of all we looked forth upon a view at once the 
 most extensive and varied which in this land of 
 beauty we had yet obtained. We were now at 
 an elevation of eight hundred feet above the Elbe, 
 and from the brink of a precipice which projects 
 beyond the bed of the river, we beheld a wide 
 VOL. I. *^ 
 
266 
 
 THE BASTEI. 
 
 plain, ^vhich, broken in upon here and there by 
 large columnar masses, gradually lifts itself into 
 an irregular amphitheatre. For, directing your 
 gaze down the course of the stream, the great 
 valley of Dresden is before you, with its wavmg 
 corn-fields, its quiet villages, and the domes of 
 the fair city projecting from amid a screen of 
 oliage ; while you need but to turn round, and 
 a change takes place, the effect of which, to be 
 understood, must be experienced. There culti- 
 vation is not, indeed, shut out, but it seems de- 
 pendant for its very existence on the good plea- 
 sure of the countless hills, each of which lifts 
 up his isolated head as if to protect his own 
 domain from insult. And finally, the eye, after 
 delighting itself with these things, ranges far 
 away among the mountains of Bohemia, which, 
 conical and bold, yet woody, and of most grace- 
 ful formations, leave the imagination nothmg to 
 desire. The Germans say that there is not a 
 landscape in all Europe to be compared, in point 
 of varied beauty, with this view of the Bastei. 
 And I am not sure, throughout all their coun- 
 try, I have beheld many scenes which charmed 
 me more in their details. 
 
 LEGENDS. 
 
 267 
 
 The Bastei, like the Kuhstall, once sheltered 
 its robber-knights, of whose stronghold some 
 fragments yet remain, and who, after long bid- 
 din^g defiance to the power of the elector, were 
 in 1468, finally subdued. They are described 
 as exercising their vocation chiefly against the 
 navigators of the Elbe ; but of their exploits 
 no distinct record has been preserved. So also 
 in 1639, when the horrors of the Thirty Years' 
 War were at their height, multitudes of exiles 
 from the desolated plains below, here found a 
 shelter. Indeed I may state, once for all, that 
 there is not one among all the isolated hills of 
 the Saxon Switzerland, which has not its pecu- 
 liar traditions attached to it. Thus Leinien- 
 stein, which we likewise visited en masse, but 
 with'the details of our visit to which it is not 
 necessary to fatigue the reader, was long the 
 abode of gnomes and evil spirits, by whom, amid 
 the fissures of the rock, treasures were hidden, 
 which the avidity of man has not yet succeeded 
 in dragging into light. Moreover, the same 
 Leinienstein, by far the loftiest of these peculiar 
 hills, has witnessed other spectacles than those 
 which evil spirits exhibit, for there dwelt during 
 
 N 2 
 
268 
 
 LEGENDS. 
 
 manv years, a nun in lier solitude, praying con- 
 tinually in life, and at her death, bequeathing a 
 name to her hermitage, Avhile not far removed 
 from that hermitage is the Jungfernsprung, or 
 cliff whence, to save her honour, the Saxon 
 maiden leaped to certain destruction. Then 
 again, on the other side of Schandau, and not 
 for removed from it, is the Schramstein ; infe- 
 rior perhaps, though not strikingly so, in rude 
 grandeur, to the Bastei itself, but like it, the 
 home, in years long past, both of warriors and 
 fugitives ; while not many stones' throw apart, 
 is the Frauenstein, which a very tragical event 
 in Saxon story has immortalized. It was here 
 during the heats of the Reformation, that a 
 young student from Leipsig met the maiden of 
 his love clandestinely, and that, interposing, be- 
 tween him and a bolt from the cross-bow of his 
 rival, she died for him whom she might not 
 hope to wed. These are but samples of what 
 the inquiring traveller will learn, provided he 
 be fortunate in the guide who conducts him to 
 each spot which he may be expected to visit ; 
 but into which I must not trust myself to enter, 
 lest they tempt me to postpone the real object 
 
 THE INN AT THE BASTEI. 
 
 269 
 
 of my journal to matters less important, per- 
 haps, though far more agreeable. 
 
 There is an inn at the very pinnacle of the 
 Bastei, from the windows of which you look 
 down into the gorge. It is. no doubt, a great 
 accommodation to travellers, yet I confess that, 
 on me, the effect produced was not agreeable, 
 for the scene is by far too wild and too magni- 
 ficent to endure the presence of a hired band. 
 There sat the musicians, however, in a sort of 
 arbour, playing with all the skill and taste which 
 characterise their countrymen, while, as an 
 accompaniment to their music, there was kept 
 up within, and round the door of the auberge 
 itself, a well-sustained discharge of corks. In 
 fact, we arrived just as the table-d'hote dinner 
 had been served up, and became, in conse- 
 quence, ear-witnesses to the compound melody 
 of clarion, French-horn, the report of beer- 
 bottles, and clatter of dishes. These not being 
 exactly to our minds, we took refuge in the 
 depths of the forest ; and there ate our meal, as 
 we had done at the Kuhstall, with nature, and 
 
 nature only, around us. 
 
 I will not go on with these details, for Ian- 
 
268 
 
 LEGENDS. 
 
 THE INN AT THE BASTEI. 
 
 269 
 
 1:1 •• 
 
 manv years, a nun in her solitude, praying con- 
 tinually in life, and at her death, bequeathing a 
 name to her hermitage, ^vhile not far removed 
 from that hermitage is the Jungfernsprung, or 
 cliff ^v•hence, to save her honour, the Saxon 
 maiden leaped to certain destruction. Then 
 acrain, on the other side of Schandau, and not 
 for removed from it, is the Schramstein ; infe- 
 rior perhaps, though not strikingly so, in rude 
 grandeur, to the Bastei itself, hut like it, the 
 home, in years long past, both of warriors and 
 fugitives; while not many stones' throw apart, 
 is the Frauenstein, which a very tragical event 
 in Saxon story has immortalized. It was here 
 during the heats of the Reformation, that a 
 young student from Leipsig met the maiden of 
 his love clandestinely, and that, interposing, be- 
 tween him and a bolt from the cross-bow of his 
 rival, she died for him whom she might not 
 hope to wed. These are but samples of what 
 the inquiring traveller will learn, provided he 
 be fortunate in the guide who conducts him to 
 each spot which he may be expected to visit ; 
 but into which I must not trust myself to enter, 
 lest they tempt me to postpone the real object 
 
 of my journal to matters less important, per- 
 haps, though far more agreeable. 
 
 There is an inn at the very pinnacle of the 
 Bastei, from the windows of which you look 
 down into the gorge. It is, no doubt, a great 
 accommodation to travellers, yet I confess that, 
 on me, the effect produced was not agreeable, 
 for the scene is by far too wild and too magni- 
 ficent to endure the presence of a hired band. 
 There sat the musicians, however, in a sort of 
 arbour, playing with all the skill and taste which 
 characterise their countrymen, while, as an 
 accompaniment to their music, there was kept 
 up within, and round the door of the auberge 
 itself, a well-sustained discharge of corks. In 
 fact, we arrived just as the table-d'hote dinner 
 had been served up, and became, in conse- 
 quence, ear-witnesses to the compound melody 
 of clarion, French-horn, the report of beer- 
 bottles, and clatter of dishes. These not being 
 exactly to our minds, we took refuge in the 
 depths of the forest ; and there ate our meal, as 
 M-e had done at the Kuhstall, with nature, and 
 
 nature only, around us. 
 
 I will not go on with these details, for Ian- 
 
270 
 
 OUrVV ALDER GRUND. 
 
 giiage is too little elastic to supply the means 
 of a continued description which shall not 
 borrow, in all its passages, from what has gone 
 before. Enough is done, when I state, that, 
 one after another, we found out all the most 
 remarkable objects in this remarkable region ; 
 that we wandered through the Outwalder 
 Grund, a defile so narrow, that here and there 
 the rocks form a complete canopy over your 
 head ; that we loitered amid the magnificence of 
 the Schramstein ; ascended Leinienstein ; stood 
 upon the top of the Great Winterberg, and 
 gave the eye freedom to range both up and 
 down the rocky channel of the Elbe ; that the 
 Probitch-Thur was not neglected, nor in some 
 sort less admired than the arch of the Kuhstall, 
 which, in its arch at least, it much resembles ; 
 and that from each particular excursion we re- 
 turned home more and more satisfied, that for 
 a summer residence we had well directed our 
 choice. I may add, likewise, that one result of 
 our wanderings was, to impress us with a more 
 exalted notion of Saxon justice and gratitude 
 than we had at first been apt to encourage. 
 We found, for example, go where we might? 
 
 INSCRIPTIONS. 
 
 271 
 
 that the memory of those who had in any de- 
 gree contributed to increase the comforts of 
 their neighbours, or bring the region into notice, 
 was cherished. Thus, on the top of the Kuh- 
 stall rock there is an inscription which records, 
 that to the good taste of an individual, the 
 pastor of a neighbouring parish, Saxon Switzer- 
 land is indebted for the opening up, as it were, 
 of this, its most remarkable treasure. In like 
 manner, the busts of two clergymen who first 
 drew public attention to the glories of the 
 Bastei, and so rendered it a show place, are set 
 up on the rock beside one of the wooden 
 bridges, with a simple record of their births, 
 and deaths, and merits. Nay, to such an ex- 
 tent is this feeling carried, that even the erec- 
 tion of a seat among the woods that face the 
 hill behind Schandau, has earned for him who 
 set it there, the celebrity of a written epitaph. 
 The cynic may sneer at all this, but I think that 
 it speaks well for the genius of the people, who, 
 in all their dealings one with another, appear to 
 be actuated by a spirit of honesty which will 
 not allow them to rob even the dead of the 
 praise which is their due. 
 
 m 
 
272 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Wi 
 
 CHANGE OF SYSTEM IN TRAVEL. — SET OUT ON FOOT THROUGH 
 
 THE BOHEMIAN MOUNTAINS." HERNSKRIETCHEN. THE 
 
 PARISH PRIEST. HIS STYLE OF LIVING. HE BECOMES 
 
 OUR GUIDE. HIS CONVERSATION. THE ANCIENT CON- 
 STITUTION OP BOHEMIA. DISCONTENT AT ITS ABOLI- 
 TION. EXISTING STATE OF THINGS. SLENDER INFLU- 
 ENCE OF THE POPE. AUFFENBERG. — THE PARSONAGE. 
 
 —THE CURATE AND HIS PARTY. BEAUTIFUL SCENERY. 
 
 — TETCHEN. 
 
 The reader will now be kind enough to pass 
 with me, into a new order of things. Hitherto 
 we have journeyed, as travellers usually do, by 
 regular stages from place to place, — visiting 
 capitals, inquiring into the state of their inha- 
 bitants, and looking abroad from our carriage- 
 windows on whatever objects might by the 
 way help to arrest our attention. We are now 
 going to change our mode of proceeding, and 
 to set forth together on foot; that we may 
 accomplish a design which from the time of my 
 departure from the Thames had, by me at least, 
 been continually meditated. What that design 
 
 BOHEMIA. 
 
 27a 
 
 was, will best be gathered from the following 
 chapters. How far its accomplishment may 
 have led to any good end, others than I must 
 determine. 
 
 It was on a beautiful morning in May, 
 
 unless my journal be incorrectly dated, 
 
 on the 29th,— that I quitted our residence 
 beside the quiet baths of Schandau, for the 
 purpose of carrying through a pedestrian 
 expedition into the mountainous districts of 
 Bohemia. A variety of circumstances contri- 
 buted to give to Bohemia more than common 
 interest in my eyes. I had read, as most edu- 
 cated Englishmen have done, the details of 
 those troublous times when good men dared to 
 protest against the corruptions of the Church of 
 Rome, and suffered for their hardihood. I was, 
 therefore, desirous of making myself acquainted 
 with the actual condition of a people whose 
 forefathers had listened to the preaching of John 
 Huss and Jerome of Prague, and struggled 
 boldly, but in vain, to vindicate for themselves 
 liberty of conscience. The traditions of the 
 Middle Ages, likewise, in which the Bohe- 
 
 N o 
 
274 
 
 BOHEMIA. 
 
 mians, or gypsies, obtain siich frequent mention, 
 were not altogether unknown to me; and I 
 was anxious to ascertain, from personal obser- 
 vation, whether there yet existed in this, the 
 cradle of their European celebrity, any rem- 
 nants of those errant hordes, against whom, so 
 recently as the sixteenth century, such terrible 
 laws were, both in Germany and England, 
 enacted. Moreover, the scenery of Bohemia 
 was described to me in terms which created an 
 ardent desire to behold it ; while the fact that, 
 comparatively speaking, few of my countrymen 
 had as yet turned their steps in the direction of 
 the Biesengebirgen, was not ^vithout its influ- 
 ence in directing my choice. For, some how 
 or another, I have invariably found that an influx 
 of Englishmen into any country, is sure to 
 create in the tastes and habits of its occupants 
 a change as complete as it is deplorable. The 
 keepers of hotels grow forthwith exorbitant in 
 their charges ; every article of commerce rises 
 enormously in price ; the peasantry and lower 
 classes become rude and mercenary; while 
 from the dwellings of the upper ranks hospi- 
 tality is banished. What a pity it is that we. 
 
 PEDESTRIAN TOURISTS. 
 
 275 
 
 not so much by our vices as by our folly,— 
 
 by a species of folly which tinges even our 
 most generous acts, should thus spread around 
 us, wherever we go, the very opposite of moral 
 improvement. 
 
 As it was not my wish to pass hastily through 
 the province, but rather to live among the 
 Bohemians, than to behold them from afar, I 
 determined to make my journey on foot. He 
 who travels either in his own carriage or by a 
 public vehicle, will of course traverse, within a 
 given space of time, a wider extent of ground 
 than the pedestrian. In towns and other places 
 of large resort, he may likewise claim to stand 
 upon equally favourable grounds ; for churches 
 and galleries are alike open to both, and to both 
 will the valet du place pay attention. But if 
 your object be to witness the fireside occupations 
 of a people,— if you have any curiosity to hold 
 with them intimate and familiar conversation, 
 —if you wish to ascertain how they feel upon 
 the most common, and therefore the most im- 
 portant of all subjects,— by what ever)^-day 
 motives they are swayed,— by what every-day 
 principles they are controlled, let your tour be 
 
 •I 
 
276 
 
 PEDESTRIAN TOURISTS. 
 
 accomplished on foot. You may excite some 
 curiosity and a little suspicion, here and there, 
 by your strange attire and foreign accent ; while 
 the first reception given to you in capitals and 
 great towns is sure to be discourteous. But 
 these circumstances, in themselves trifling, can- • 
 not affect you long, unless you be utterly wanting 
 in the skill, without which it is useless to travel 
 at all ; and were the case otherwise, the advan- 
 tages of your position are such as to cast them — 
 evils of rare occurrence — utterly into the shade. 
 Nobody thinks of rejecting the salutations of 
 a walking gentleman, or refuses to converse 
 \\ith him, so long as their routes may chance 
 to lie in the same direction; and then the 
 village inn, — aye, and the gasthof of the market 
 and post town likewise— in these he is sure to 
 find a ready welcome. For these and other 
 equally cogent reasons, I recommend to all 
 such as possess vigour enough of mind and 
 body for the undertaking, to traverse unknown 
 regions which they may desire to investigate, 
 on foot ; being fully assured that the pedestrian 
 is enabled to judge, not of the outward forms 
 of nature alone, but of the habits and disposi- 
 
 EQUirMEXT. 
 
 277 
 
 tions of mankind, with a degree of accuracy 
 which can never be attained by the occupant 
 of a post-chaise or a diligence. 
 
 On the 2&th of May, then, at seven o'clock 
 in the morning, I quitted my temporary home 
 at Schandau, in a state of health, if not abso- 
 lutely vigorous, at all events greatly improved, 
 and with a mind entirely prepared to deal fairly 
 with whatever might befal, whether of good or 
 evil result, by the way. I had for a companion 
 my son,— a youth of thirteen years of age,— 
 stout of limb, and nowise deficient in the spirit 
 of enterprise ; one who will, I trust, sooner or 
 later, do his country some service, in the honour- 
 able profession of arms for which he is destined. 
 Our attire was a strange mixture of the Ger- 
 man and Scottish costumes; th^t is to say, 
 tartan trousers and jackets, with Saxon caps ; 
 and our baggage, a couple of knapsacks, in 
 each of which were stowed away a complete 
 change of apparel,— namely, coat, waistcoat, 
 trous'ers, a spare pair of shoes, a spare shirt and 
 night-shirt, three pairs of stockings, flannel 
 wlistcoat and drawers, with soap, sponges, por- 
 table dressing-case, hair-brushes, and every other 
 
 -|| 
 
 f. * 
 
278 
 
 EQUIPMENT. 
 
 article that is requisite to a gentleman's com- 
 fort. The load was considerable, doubtless; 
 but before three days were passed we became 
 accustomed to it ; and the luxury of being able 
 to shift entirely at the close of each day's 
 march, more than made amends for the toil of 
 bearing it. Moreover, we provided against the 
 changes of rainy weather, by strapping upon 
 each of our backs a light Mackintosh cloak ; 
 and we wielded in our hands, in lieu of sticks, 
 a couple of fishing-rods. Thus accoutred, and 
 carrying in our pockets a moderate supply 
 of the current coin of the realm, we felt 
 that we were in a condition to set the ordi- 
 nary ills of life at defiance, and for three or 
 four weeks to indulge our own humour by 
 turning our steps toward whatever point might 
 hold out the brightest promise of enjoyment. 
 
 Nobody begins a tour, however limited in 
 extent, without having some professed object 
 before them. Ours was to gain the top of 
 Schnee Kupper, the loftiest of the Riesenge- 
 birgen range,— from which we were given to un- 
 derstand that the view would be glorious ; pro- 
 vided only the snow should have been suffi- 
 
 EQTJIPMENT. 
 
 279 
 
 ciently melted to permit our ascending to the 
 summit. But we were by no means solicitous 
 to ascertain by what route the goal might most 
 immediately be attained. On the contrary, as 
 we carried about with us a tolerable map of 
 Bohemia, which I had purchased in Dresden as 
 a resource in case of need, we resolved to trust 
 a good deal to accident, and to diverge from 
 the direct road wherever anything might be 
 pointed out deserving, either from its natural 
 beauty, or its historical associations, of our atten- 
 tion. Yet there was a serious evil, against which 
 we must needs combat at a disadvantage. Our 
 knowledge of the vernacular German was as yet 
 imperfect ; and of Bohemian, a dialect of the 
 Slavonic, we were utterly ignorant. Still, as 
 nature has given to both of us tolerable ears for 
 music, and some little quickness in catching 
 strange tongues, we did not despair of being 
 able to make our way ; and I am bound to add, 
 that our progress seems to myself, at the mo- 
 ment when I begin to write, to have been sur- 
 
 prising. 
 
 In the imperfect route which we had 
 drawn up for ourselves on the evening of the 
 
 ? ! 
 
280 
 
 QUIT SCHAXDAU. 
 
 28th, Tetchen was set down as our first haUing- 
 place. It is distant from Schandau about 
 four German or twenty English miles, and 
 towards it our steps were now directed. Our 
 path lay along the right bank of the Elbe, 
 which here pours his waters in a dark and 
 troubled stream, between ranges of cliffs or 
 hills, overgrown by forests of pine and birch 
 from their bases to their summits. Before us 
 the Greater Winterberg reared up his huge 
 masses ; behind were the rocks of Leinienstein 
 and Konigstein,— the former bald and frowning, 
 as some strange convulsion of nature originally 
 left him,— the latter crowned with his diadem 
 of masonry. On either hand, both beside us 
 and across the river, frequent glens and valleys 
 showed themselves, all of them green with 
 meadow-grass or young corn, and all studded 
 with white cottages; while Schandau itself, 
 with its tall church spire, its modest buildings, 
 and its busy little wharf, appeared in the bright 
 sunshine of a May morning to peculiar advan- 
 tage. I speak of its busy little wharf, not 
 because Schandau is a place of trade,— for of 
 trade, properly speaking, it has none,— but, like 
 
 THE AUSTRIAN FRONTIER. 
 
 281 
 
 all the other villages which border the Elbe, it 
 is a point for the exportation of fire-wood; 
 which being conveyed in rafts and barges from 
 Saxon Switzerland down the stream, supplies 
 the wants of a large portion of Germany, even 
 to the city of Hamburg, and the shores of the 
 
 North Sea. 
 
 About four miles beyond Schandau, just 
 where a huge quarry of soft freestone ends, is 
 the boundary, or march-line, between Saxony 
 and Bohemia. It is indicated, as usual, by a 
 couple of posts, one bearing the green and 
 Mhite stripes, which are emblematical of the 
 Saxon monarchy, while the other is stained 
 with the Austrian colours, namely, black and 
 yellow. Besides these, the customary land- 
 marks in like cases, a slender palisade has been 
 run from the base of the hills towards the 
 river, at the extremity of which, so as to com- 
 mand a narrow footpath which skirts the Elbe, 
 is a rudely-constructed watchhouse. Here the 
 Austrian jager on duty keeps post ; while mid- 
 way in the stream a guard-boat is moored,— a 
 preservative, I do not know how effectual, 
 against smuggling. For smuggling is, or was. 
 
282 
 
 GUARD ON THE FRONTIER. 
 
 carried on, both by land and water, to a large 
 extent, over this frontier, the inducements to 
 which seem to the full as great as the measures 
 adopted to prevent it are vigorous. 
 
 I need not here repeat the statement, that 
 Prussia has made great efforts to establish 
 throughout Germany, one uniform scale of 
 transit duties, as well on goods imported 
 from abroad, as on such as may be conveyed 
 from one German state to another. Many 
 of the lesser powers. Saxony included, have 
 fallen into her views, but Austria still holds 
 back. Unwilling or unable to relinquish cer- 
 tain monopolies from which a large share of 
 its revenues is derived, the Austrian govern- 
 ment has hitherto refused to make one in this 
 commercial confederation, and the consequence 
 is, that the Austrian frontiers are everywhere 
 guarded with a degree of vigilance scarcely less 
 strict than would be necessary in a season of 
 war. Along this border of Bohemia alone, for 
 example, three battalions of jagers, consisting 
 each of twelve hundred men, are kept on foot. 
 It is the established duty of these corps to 
 wage war upon contraband traders ; and nume- 
 
 GUARD ON THE FRONTIER. 
 
 283 
 
 reus and vigilant as they appear to be, I under- 
 stand that they do not always war successfully. 
 Let me not, however, deal unfairly, either by 
 the jagers or the authorities under which they 
 act. The policy which confers upon the supreme 
 government an exclusive right to traffic in 
 tobacco may be narrow, and the inconveni- 
 ences thereby inflicted on a people, to whom 
 tobacco appears to be as much a neces- 
 sary of life as bread or water, may be great ; 
 but the mere traveller has no just ground of 
 complaint. If examined at all, he is dealt 
 with so tenderly, that to speak of the process 
 as a serious interruption would be ridiculous. 
 We had been warned by our friends in Saxony, 
 of the extreme rigour of the Austrian police, 
 and therefore crossed the frontier-line, prepared 
 for a vast show of scrutiny. But a simple 
 question from the jager on duty, as to whether 
 we carried any description of merchandise in 
 our knapsacks, was all that befel. We replied 
 in the negative, and were at once permitted to 
 
 pass on. 
 
 During a short excursion which I had pre- 
 viously taken to the Greater Winterberg and 
 
284 
 
 REACH HERNSKRIETCHEN. 
 
 1 
 
 
 the Probitcli-Thur, I had been so fortunate as 
 to make the acquaintance of the parish priest 
 at Hernskreitchen,— a small town, or rather a 
 large village, about an English mile and a-half 
 within the Bohemian frontier. Having found 
 him, on that occasion, an intelligent as well as 
 an obliging man, w^e resolved to pay him a 
 second visit, partly with the view of obtaining 
 his guidance in examining the most remark- 
 able objects immediately round Hernskrietchen, 
 partly in the hope that he might be able to 
 correct our route, and put us in the way of 
 traversing other parts of Bohemia to advantage. 
 Our approach to Hernskrietchen was not, how- 
 ever, so easily effected to-day as it had pre- 
 viously been. The Elbe, swollen by heavy 
 rains, and much more by the melting of the 
 snow in the mountains, had during some days 
 past spread far beyond his usual channel, and, 
 though now beginning to subside, still covered 
 the whole of the level country, so as to render 
 the road impassable. By clambering over a 
 cliff or two, however, and passing beneath an 
 arch cut in the rock, we gained a point where 
 a boat stood ready to receive us, in which we 
 
 THE ROMISH CLERGY. 
 
 285 
 
 were conveyed, without further trouble, to the 
 
 town. 
 
 The demoralizing effect of that pernicious 
 regulation which condemns the clergy of the 
 Church of Rome to lives of perpetual celibacy, 
 has been remarked upon in fitting terms by 
 every candid traveller through Catholic coun- 
 tries. liooking at the matter as a question of 
 abstract theory, it may perhaps be conceded, 
 that to relieve the clergy from the anxieties 
 attendant on the cares of a family, would be 
 advisable, because even where a man's means 
 are more abundant tlian usually happens to 
 be the case with a parish priest, such cares 
 inevitably engross at least a moderate share of 
 his attention. But in practice the results will 
 be found to be altogether mischievous. The 
 common amenities which belong to our common 
 nature are not to be torn asunder with im- 
 punity; nor will any consideration, either of 
 policy or principle, render whole masses of men 
 obedient to laws in themselves so iniquitous. 
 In large cities, where there is scope enough for 
 the exercise of the intellectual faculties, and 
 among persons whose tastes and habits lead 
 
286 
 
 CELIBACY OF 
 
 THE ROMISH CLERGY. 
 
 287 
 
 them to the pursuit of literature and science, I 
 can conceive even the law of celibacy to be 
 endurable. Such men, in such situations, will 
 generally escape out of themselves, even if 
 they do not find in the alternations of study 
 and their professional duties, a substitute for 
 those domestic relations which are the best 
 sources of a genuine and cheerful piety. But 
 the priest of such a parish as Hernskrietchen, 
 —a small community among the mountains of 
 Bohemia,— a place where there is no mind, no 
 education, no companionship except with the 
 humblest of the peasant classes,— what must 
 be the condition of the homeless ecclesiastic 
 there ? If he be a man of strong mind and 
 high principle, he will, of course, tread uncom- 
 plaining the dull road before him, but he will 
 tread it wearily. If his mind be less vigorous, 
 or his principles less unbending, Avhat security 
 have we that he will not seek a refuge from 
 weariness, even in vice? And when, over and 
 above all this, the custom of auricular confession 
 renders him complete master of the secret 
 thoughts of his neighbours, who will answer for 
 it that he never employs as instruments of evil. 
 
 arrangements which by their inventors were, 
 no doubt, designed for good ? Far be it from 
 me to charge the Roman Catholic clergy at 
 large with any such abuse of their powers. 
 But it is surely as impolitic as it is unfair, to 
 place them without the pale of domestic 
 society'; in other words, to deal with them as 
 if with their civil costume they laid aside, not 
 only all the weaknesses, but all the sympathies 
 and generous feelings of human nature. 
 
 Our friend at Hernskrietchen was one of 
 those of whom it may be said, that in every 
 point of view he deserved a better fate than 
 attended him. During my first visit, I bad 
 been struck with the affectionate and respectful 
 manner in which his parishioners of all ages 
 addressed him. My second fully explained to 
 me the causes of this. I found him, not in his 
 house, nor yet abroad for amusement; but 
 seated on a chair in the village school, busily 
 and kindly engaged in conveying instruction to 
 the children. He rose on my entrance, and 
 after a cordial grasp of the hand, laid aside his 
 book, and conducted me home. What a con- 
 trast that home presented to the interior even 
 
 > I 
 
288 
 
 HOUSE OF THE PRIEST. 
 
 HE BECOMES OUR GUIDE. 
 
 289 
 
 of the poorest of our English vicarages. Tliere 
 was no modest but lady-lilce person to bid her 
 husband's visitor welcome,— no cheerful sound 
 of young voices issuing from the garden or the 
 nursery,— but a housekeeper, a middle-aged 
 woman, very little indebted to nature, and less 
 to art, ushered us into an apartment which 
 served the three-fold purpose of kitchen, bed- 
 room, and eating hall. Carpets are rarely to 
 be seen even in the palaces of the German 
 nobility. You find, on the contrary, bare 
 boarded floors, with a high polish, doubtless, 
 and here and there tastefully inlaid ; but after 
 all, boards, and boards only. The priest's 
 apartment could not boast even of this degree 
 of elegance,— for the flooring was of mud, with 
 a tile° hearth near the stove. Its furniture, 
 again, consisted of two deal tables, a few chairs, 
 a bench or two, a porcelain stove, and a bed, 
 such as Captain Hall has so eloquently de- 
 nounced, in the far corner. A few books, some 
 of them torn, occupied a hanging shelf near the 
 window; and some coarse paper, with an ink- 
 stand and a pen, lay on the ledge beneath them. 
 The kind priest, however, seemed anxious 
 
 <* 
 
 
 to convince us that, humble as his condition 
 might be, he could still exercise the rites of , 
 hospitality. A brown loaf, some excellent 
 butter, and a bottle of good Rhenish ^yine, 
 were produced, on which my fellow-traveller 
 and I made a sumptuous luncheon. 
 
 Having settled this important point, I ex- 
 plained our wishes to our host, who readily 
 undertook to be our guide as far as Auffenberg. 
 " I was formerly curate there," said he, " and 
 now my place is supplied by a young man, who 
 has himself made the tour which you propose 
 to make. He will be able to give you more 
 information than I, and you may perfectly rely 
 upon him." Nothing could be more acceptable 
 to us than this arrangement, so we at once 
 closed with our friend's proposal, and sallied 
 
 forth again. 
 
 Tlie scenery around Hernskrietchen is ex- 
 ceedingly wild and fine. It differs little in its 
 general character from that which forms the 
 principal feature of the Saxon Switzerland ; for 
 you first traverse deep dark glens, overshadowed 
 by pine-clad hills ; and then, on ascending the 
 hills themselves, look down upon terrific preci- 
 VOL. I. ^ 
 
290 
 
 THE BELVIDERE. 
 
 pices. To he sure, the proximity of the Elbe, 
 which flows immediately at the base of what is 
 called the Belvidere, gives a charm to the pano- 
 rama here, which elsewhere is wanting. And the 
 view both upwards and downwards,— embracing 
 as it does, one of the most glorious of the 
 river's curvatures, is tmly magnificent. But 
 art has done somewhat too much here. The 
 Prince of Clari, it seems, to whom the sur- 
 rounding country belongs, has or had a passion 
 for occasionally visiting the spot, and either he 
 or his agents have laid out the summit of the 
 crag into a tolerably accurate model of a ship's 
 deck. Moreover, we have a banqueting-room 
 at the stern, parapets to keep you from falling 
 down, and a small mortar-bed, on which a piece 
 of ordnance is occasionally mounted, in order 
 that the princely company may listen and won- 
 der at the echoes which a single discharge calls 
 forth. Now all these things may be agreeable 
 to the tastes of those for whose especial pleasure 
 they were so arranged, but on us their effect 
 was not pleasing. I therefore quitted the Bel- 
 Tidere, fully alive to the splendour of the scene 
 which it opens out ; yet half lamenting that 
 
 BEAUTIFUL SCENERY. 
 
 291 
 
 nature had not been left to herself, in a situa- 
 tion where her work had been so magnificently 
 
 accomplished. 
 
 The remainder of our journey towards 
 Auffenberg was exceedingly interesting and 
 pretty. We walked through meadows and 
 corn-fields, elevated many hundred feet above 
 the bed of the river, and gazed round, in all 
 directions, on the cliffs and precipices of Saxon 
 Switzerland,— on the bold, graceful, and sugar- 
 loaf hills of Bohemia,— on sweeping forests, 
 the growth apparently of ages, with towns, 
 • villages, and straggling hamlets, interspersed 
 among them. Neither was the conversation 
 of our friendly guide undeserving of notice. 
 We gathered very indistinctly from him, what 
 came out more clearly in other quarters,— that 
 there prevailed among all classes of people in 
 Bohemia much apparent contentment, with a 
 good deal of hidden dissatisfaction. The pea- 
 santry are described as being everywhere in full 
 employment, and, though not what we should 
 term rich, exempt from the pressure of distress. 
 A labouring man, for example, such as a stone- 
 breaker by the road side, receives about eight 
 
 2 
 
 f 
 
292 
 
 CONVERSATION 
 
 pence a day in our money. A weaver, when 
 times are good, will earn quite as much, and 
 generally speaking more. Now when we take 
 into account the simple habits of the people, 
 the extreme cheapness of all the necessaries of 
 life, house-rent and fuel included, it is scarcely 
 going too far to assert that the condition of the 
 Bohemian labourer is much more satisfactory 
 than that of an Englishman in the same station 
 
 of life. 
 
 The discussion of these topics naturally led 
 the way on my part to an inquiry into the 
 general administration of the province, the 
 constitution of the courts by which justice is 
 dispensed to the people, the privileges of the 
 several classes in society, and the management 
 of the police. On all these heads, I found my 
 friend singularly well-informed ; yet in the ob- 
 servations which I am about to hazard, I beg 
 it to be understood, that I lean in no respect 
 upon him as an authority. For I found oppor- 
 tunities afterwards of pushing my inquiries 
 further, both at Prague, and elsewhere ; and it is 
 of the result of these investigations, conducted 
 as well among living men, as in the libraries 
 
 WITH OUR GUIDE. 
 
 293 
 
 of the country, that I venture thus early in my 
 journal to make mention. 
 
 There can be no greater mistake than that 
 which, in reference to Bohemia, it has been the 
 policy of the house of Austria to propagate; 
 namely, that she belongs, or ever has belonged, 
 by the tie either of lineage or dependance, to 
 what is known throughout Europe as the great 
 German family. The Bohemians are not Ger- 
 mans, in their language, in their feelings, in 
 their habits, in their prejudices, nor, above all, 
 in the institutions which till within little more 
 than a century and a-half, prevailed among 
 them. The feudal system, for example, was 
 unknown in Bohemia till after the Thirty 
 Years' War; and it took so ill with the gemus 
 of the people, that when the Emperor Joseph 
 made preparations to abolish it, his efforts were 
 hailed with universal satisfaction. Unfortu- 
 nately for Bohemia, however, and indeed for 
 the whole of his extensive dominions, Joseph 
 did not live long enough to carry out the 
 magnificent plans which he had concocted. 
 And the result has been, that here, at least, 
 matters have been left in a state of such con- 
 
'I 
 
 294 
 
 ANCIENT CONSTITUTION 
 
 fusion, that it is sometimes difficult to deter- 
 mine what is and what is not law. Hence the 
 machine of goTornment goes on, more because 
 no one is disposed to impede it, than because 
 its movements are regulated by any settled and 
 w^ell-understood principles. I will endeaTOur 
 to make my meaning plain, by stating in few 
 words, first what used to be, and then what 
 now is, the order of society in Bohemia. 
 
 The inhabitants of Bohemia are a portion of 
 the great Slavonic branch of the human race. 
 Their language differs only as a dialect from that 
 of the Russians, the Poles, the Croats, and the 
 inhabitants of the Carpathian mountains. Their 
 government, originally patriarchal, adopted, in 
 process of time, the form of a limited monarchy, 
 though it was not till far in the eleventh 
 century that the style and dignity of kingship 
 was recognised among them. Previous to the 
 reign of the Emperor Henry IV., indeed, by 
 whom the regal crown was first bestowed, their 
 pnnces took no higher title than that of dukes ; 
 while both before and after that change, at 
 least till times comparatively recent, there was 
 as little of absolutism in the Bohemian coastitu- 
 
 OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 295 
 
 
 tion, as in that of Poland or of Hungary. Nay, 
 more. Bights which in Poland and in Hungary 
 were claimed and exercised by a powerful 
 aristocracy alone, descended in Bohemia to the 
 humblest classes of society; for it was the 
 glory of this land, that when feudalism pre- 
 vailed everywhere else in Europe, her peasants 
 were not serfs, nor her citizens slaves. 
 
 In very ancient times, the dukes of Bohemia 
 were controlled in the exercise of their prero- 
 gative only by the chiefs or representatives of 
 certain powerful clans, which assisted theix 
 forefathers in winning the land, and were still 
 prompt to defend it. By-and-by, however, a 
 better system sprang out of this arrangement, 
 and to each order in the body poUtic was its 
 own share of authority entrusted, under the 
 three-fold appellation of nobles, knights, and 
 citizens. At the same time the line of dis- 
 tinction between these several orders was so 
 broad and so marked, that no man not bom 
 into a noble or a knightly family, could, by any 
 exertion of talent or enterprise, ascend be- 
 yond the rank of citizenship. And in exact 
 proportion to the respective ranks of these 
 
 V 
 
296 
 
 ANCIENT CONSTITUTION 
 
 several classes, was the amount of privileges 
 enjoyed by each. Whenever, for example, 
 enactments were required which in their results 
 promised to affect the well-being of the entire 
 community, then delegates, from each of the 
 three orders, met to deliberate upon them, and 
 these, if passed, became, when sanctioned by the 
 king or duke, part of the law of the land. But 
 for the management of their own affairs respec- 
 tively, the nobles and knights made laws ; the 
 former at least, having also their own courts of 
 justice, before which alone they could be put 
 upon their trial. Of these courts of nobility, 
 as I shall take occasion to observe by-and-by, 
 some traces still remain ; indeed it is the incon- 
 gruous intermixture of this, a Bohemian insti- 
 tution, with the common usages of Germany, 
 which produces, among other things, the con- 
 fusion already alluded to, as prevailing in the 
 general management of the affairs of the pro- 
 vince. 
 
 In the constitution of Bohemia, as it came 
 to be settled so early as the close of the tenth 
 century, and as it continued to work, with more 
 cr less of purity, till far in the seventeenth, we 
 
 OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 297 
 
 
 
 . 
 
 « 
 
 accordingly find an executive, with three sepa- 
 rate, and, as it were, independent but subordi- 
 nate estates under it ; each enjoying its own 
 privileges, and asserting its own rights, without 
 giving the smallest umbrage, or offering the 
 slightest injury to the rest. I omit from this 
 catalogue the clergy, because, though anciently 
 a state by themselves, they forfeited the distinc- 
 tion at the period of the Hussite troubles, and 
 never recovered it. The executive was wielded 
 of course by the crown, the order of succession 
 to which was in two wise ; that is to say, the 
 hereditary line was never, except in very grave 
 cases, broken, and the custom of primogeniture 
 prevailed ; but failing this, or in the event of 
 some crying abuse, the people claimed, and 
 frequently exercised, the right of electing their 
 own sovereign. Hence the accession even of 
 a son on the demise of his father, was always 
 accompanied by the forms of an election ; and 
 to mark that such was not a mere empty cere- 
 mony, the utmost degree of religious solemnity 
 was added to its performance. The throne 
 having been declared vacant by the estates in 
 comitia assembled, the regaUa were brought 
 
 3 
 
298 
 
 ANCIENT CONSTITUTION 
 
 with great pomp from a fortress in the capital, 
 which was set apart to their safe keeping. 
 They were conveyed to the citadel at Prague, 
 where they were arranged in the great hall 
 within which the states assembled to act upon 
 the emergency that had arisen; and the bur- 
 grave, taking the chair, lots were cast, in order 
 to determine who should be king. This done, 
 the burgrave rose, and with an audible voice, 
 demanded whether it was the pleasure of the 
 estates that the result of the scrutiny should 
 be announced. They asked it clamorously; 
 upon which he exclaimed, '' In the name of the 
 Most High, whose favour and protection we 
 implore for this realm, I, supreme burgrave of 
 Prague, by virtue of my office, declare that the 
 choice of the states has fallen upon the high 
 and mighty prince (naming him), and I require 
 that he be accepted as king of Bohemia." Im- 
 mediately an officer proclaimed, from the win- 
 dow, that a new king had been elected. The 
 crowds which waited below raised a shout in 
 testimony of their satisfaction, and the process 
 of election being complete, it remained only to 
 go forward with the more solemn parts of the 
 
 OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 299 
 
 ceremony. Accordingly, the regalia were borne 
 back in procession to the place of safe keeping; 
 the king-elect proceeded, with great state, to 
 the cathedral, where he received the holy sacra- 
 ment, and was crowned and anointed by the 
 archbishop, having, first of all, sworn upon the 
 Evangelists that he would govern according to 
 the law of the land, preserve the property of 
 the nation, and defend the rights and privi- 
 leges of all classes of his subjects against every 
 
 aggressor. 
 
 Two points, both of them important to the 
 right understanding of history, seem to be de- 
 termined by these facts. First, it is quite clear 
 that, though not always exercised, the right of 
 electing to the vacant throne was vested in the 
 states of Bohemia. Next, that the setting 
 aside of Ferdinand in 1619, and the substi- 
 tution of the Elector Palatine, was neither an 
 act of rebeUion against a legitimate sovereign, 
 nor an usurpation of privileges which belonged 
 not to the nation. Tlie emergency for which 
 the Bohemian constitution seems to have pro- 
 vided, had then clearly occurred. There was a 
 great change in the public mind on the subject 
 
300 
 
 ANCIENT CONSTITUTION 
 
 of religion, and the emperor was opposed to 
 that change. How were the states to act? 
 They adopted the same course which was after- 
 wards followed with perfect success in England; 
 thev chano^ed the line of succession, and strove, 
 when attacked, to defend themselves. They 
 failed, thanks to the weakness of the prince of 
 whom they had made choice as a ruler, and in 
 part, at least, to the unwise policy of our James 
 I. ; but they no more deserve the censure which 
 has, by almost all writers, been heaped upon 
 them, than the English nation deserves to be 
 branded with the Revolution of 1688. 
 
 I have stated that the royal title was first 
 bestowed upon the duke of Bohemia in 1061, 
 and that Henry conferred the honour upon him. 
 Henry's ostensible motive was a desire to mark 
 his sense of the services which Wratislas II. 
 had rendered him against certain rebel feuda- 
 tories. The real object of the gift was to 
 connect, by the bond of vassalage, a large and 
 influential principality with the empire; for 
 Bohemia was, in those days, much more 
 powerful than she is now. Her sway extended 
 over Moravia, and a large portion of Silesia 
 
 OF BOHEMU. 
 
 301 
 
 and Lusatia, as well as over Bohemia proper. 
 Neither did the politic emperor fail in the 
 accomplishment of his wishes. An electoral 
 king was soon drawn on to mix himself up 
 with the affairs of Germany, and the con- 
 nexion thus formed grew every day more 
 and more intimate. Yet Bohemia continued 
 throughout to foster, within her own limits, in- 
 stitutions which had to those of Germany no 
 similitude. Her Slavonic language she never 
 laid aside. Her usages were not altered; 
 neither was the slightest innovation on the 
 forms of their administration attempted. The 
 sovereign continued to be the first magistrate, 
 and nothing more. Laws enacted by the autho- 
 rity of the states, were by him carried into exe- 
 cution ; while under him sat judges and magi- 
 strates, to hear and determine complaints; 
 public expenditors to disperse the sums gathered 
 in by taxation, and all the other instruments, 
 without which the machinery of a nation can- 
 not be properly balanced or kept in place. It 
 would serve no good purpose were I to enume- 
 rate all these functionaries, even if I added to 
 my list of titles a full and particular account of 
 
 fi 
 
302 
 
 ANCIENT CONSTITUTION 
 
 the duties attached to each. My purpose is 
 sufficiently served when I state, tliat everywhere 
 we discover marks of a constitution more theo- 
 retically free than in almost any other of the 
 states of Europe. For the very cultivator of 
 the soil, though of course dependant on his 
 employer, was not, like the same animal in 
 Russia and Hungary, a mere slave, inasmuch 
 as there were royal functionaries in every vil- 
 lage to protect, as well as to keep him in sub- 
 jection, from whose decisions he had a right of 
 constant appeal, till his cause might be carried 
 for final adjudication, into the King's Court at 
 Prague. Nay, so completely was this court 
 open to all orders, that the meanest citizen 
 might there institute a suit against the sove- 
 reign himself. 
 
 The Bohemians, much attached to their own 
 institutions, and jealous of every attempt at 
 innovation, seem never to have become cordially 
 Teconciled to the dominion of the house of 
 Austria. Their new masters had no sympathy 
 for their humours, and more than once a move- 
 ment was made to sever the connexion. But 
 as the crown had passed into the family of 
 
 OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 303 
 
 'i 
 
 ♦ 
 
 Hapsburg by the legitimate process of mar- 
 riage, there was a wise reluctance, on the part 
 of the majority, to break in upon the line of 
 succession ; and till the commencement of the 
 troubles which marked the dawn of the Refor- 
 mation, such movements cannot be described as, 
 in any sense of the term, national. When reli- 
 gious zeal, however, came to the aid of political 
 and perhaps personal prejudice, the circum- 
 stances of the case were changed. If ever 
 man was called to a throne by the deliberate 
 voice of those who had the right to settle him 
 there, the Prince Palatine Frederic was that 
 man. He accepted the invitation, assumed the 
 royal state, wasted his means in idle pageantry, 
 and was overthrown ; while Austria, which here- 
 tofore had claimed only to govern by election, 
 and according to law, now acted as if Bohemia 
 were her own by right of conquest. 
 
 Whatever had been real in the privileges of 
 the states, was at once put aside. They were 
 called together, it is true, once a year, and once 
 a year they are called together still ; but it is 
 much as the Houses of Convocation meet in 
 England,— that they may be prorogued again. 
 
 <v.^ 
 
304 
 
 DISCONTENT AT 
 
 
 '4 
 
 Some nominal vote of supply is, indeed, passed, 
 and then they adjourn. Meanwhile all the 
 rights of the humbler orders were set aside. 
 The nobles became feudal lords, holding their 
 estates of the crown by tenure of service, and 
 dealing with their vassals as feudal lords were 
 wont to do, according to the dictates of their 
 own caprice. New laws were passed; new 
 usages established ; and, worst and most galling 
 of all, a new language introduced into the 
 courts where justice was dispensed. Bohemia 
 was treated as an integral portion of Germany, 
 and as German customs had set aside the cus- 
 toms of the Slavacs, so was the German tongue 
 substituted for the old and dearly-prized 
 Bohemian. 
 
 There was much discontent in the kingdom, 
 as may be imagined, but the power which held 
 it down was too gigantic to be resisted. Of 
 the nobles and landholders, a large proportion 
 had been driven into exile, and their estates 
 being conferred on court favourites, whatever 
 weight the possession of property could give, 
 was, of course, thrown into the scale of the 
 emperor. The residue of the old families. 
 
 
 ITS ABOLITION. 
 
 305 
 
 moreover, were not quite agreed among them- 
 selves as to the policy of resistance ; for if their 
 more perfect dependance on the crown galled 
 them, their love of power was gratified by the 
 enlarged authority which they were permitted 
 to exercise over their own dependants. Accord- 
 ingly no revolt took place ; indeed, a population 
 destitute of leaders, even while they pined and 
 fretted for institutions to which long habit had 
 enured them, could not act; they strove rather, 
 as it appears, vainly, to reconcile themselves to 
 their altered condition. Meanwhile literature, 
 which in the olden time had attained to con- 
 siderable eminence in Bohemia, entirely lan- 
 guished. The aboriginal language fell, with 
 writers, into disuse ; and as language is but the 
 symbol of ideas, the very ideas of the people 
 grew more dull and torpid every day. Even 
 for conversational purposes, the rich and musical 
 dialect of the Slavacs ceased to be used, except 
 among the lowest of the peasantry; and the use 
 of it was, in consequence, taken as an unerring 
 test of humble birth and a rude education. In 
 a word, no efforts were spared to root out the 
 very memory of former independence, and to 
 
I 
 
 I 
 
 $■ 
 
 3oa 
 
 EXISTING STATE 
 
 induce a persuasion both at home and abroad, 
 that as Bohemia had all along owed obedience 
 to the decrees of the Germanic confederation, 
 so in subjecting its inhabitants to the common 
 usages of Germany, no violence whatever had 
 been offered to the principles of right or of 
 sound policy. 
 
 In process of time Joseph the Second as- 
 cended the throne, and the hand of the Reformer 
 was felt in Bohemia as well as in other provinces 
 of the empire. It does not, indeed, appear, 
 that Joseph ever entertained the idea of restor- 
 ing to the states their rights, or to the nobles 
 their hereditary privileges. But he abhorred 
 the feudal system, and dealt with it so vigor- 
 ously, that both here and elsewhere little was 
 left of it, except the name, and some of the 
 forms. The landowner, who had previously 
 exercised absolute power over his vassals, found 
 himself reduced to the rank of a mere con- 
 servator of the public peace. His Chancery, 
 which used to represent in miniature the court 
 of a sovereign prince, became henceforth a 
 mere burden upon his rental. He has still in 
 pay a grand bailiif, and a chancellor, with a whole 
 
 OF THINGS. 
 
 307 
 
 host of inferior functionaries ; but his authority 
 through them extends no further than the set- 
 tling of petty disputes, and the maintenance of a 
 police within the limits of the manor. Litigated 
 cases are heard, and crimes and misdemeanours 
 punished, by magistrates whom the crown ap- 
 points, — men bred to the law as to a profession, 
 and stationed here and there, at convenient 
 distances from one another, in towns and vil- 
 lages through the country; and even their 
 decisions are not always final. ITie case may 
 be carried into a higher court in Prague, and 
 from Prague itself a final appeal lies to Vienna. 
 It is worthy of remark, however, that from the 
 jurisdiction of these magistrates every person of 
 noble lineage is exempt. The noble cannot be 
 tried, except before his own court in Prague ; 
 of which the decision may be reversed only by 
 the emperor in person. 
 
 Besides magistrates, bailiffs, and chancellors, 
 we find in Bohemia a class of officers styled 
 heads or commissaries of circles, of whom the 
 stranger is apt, at first sight, to suppose that 
 they exercise a right of superintendence over 
 the magistracy. The case is not so, however. 
 
1 1 
 
 I 
 
 
 308 
 
 EXISTING STATE 
 
 They are mere checks upon the landowners and 
 their chanceries ; they move about from time to 
 time, in order to ascertain whether or not the 
 roads are kept in good repair, and the peasants 
 well treated by their superiors. For in Bohe- 
 mia, as well as in Saxony, the poor have a legal 
 claim upon the wealthy, for such assistance as 
 shall keep them from starving ; and it is one 
 part of the duty attaching to the manorial 
 chanceries to provide that such is duly afforded. 
 I am bound to add, that, though the allowances 
 thus made are exceedingly small, they appear 
 to serve the purpose ; for the Bohemians are a 
 most enduring people, and private charity, even 
 in cases where the means of dispensing it might 
 seem to be wanting, is not often appealed to 
 among them in vain. 
 
 Besides these rural magistrates, Bohemia, like 
 Saxony, has its townships, — each of which is 
 governed by a municipal body, at once chosen 
 by the inhabitants, and maintained out of the 
 corporate property. They are not accountable 
 either to the heads of circles or to the chan- 
 ceries, but come under the immediate inspection 
 of the supreme government. Though elected 
 
 OF THINGS. 
 
 309 
 
 for life, they are liable to be set aside in case a 
 charge of malversation shall be made out against 
 them ; only there is this difference between the 
 state of things in Saxony and Bohemia, that 
 whereas in the former kingdom this power is 
 exercised by the people, in the latter it belongs 
 exclusively to the emperor. 
 
 All this reads well; nor can there be any 
 doubt whatever that a country more absolutely 
 tranquil than Bohemia nowhere exists. Not 
 only are serious offences, such as murder, rob- 
 bery, and arson unknown, — but the very words 
 of the mouth, and the meditations of the heart, 
 seem guarded. Men go about their every-day 
 occupations with, apparently, a full assurance in 
 their minds, that to-morrow shall be like this 
 day, — if not much more abundant. But the 
 tranquillity of Bohemia — or, if you prefer so to 
 call it, — the peace and good order that prevail 
 around, are like the quiet of the Dead Sea. It 
 is by far too complete to satisfy the longings of 
 that most active of all sublunary creatures, the 
 human mind. " You are certainly getting on 
 too fast in England now," said a Bohemian 
 nobleman to me, while discussing the political 
 
 I 
 
310 
 
 EXISTING STATE 
 
 OF THINGS. 
 
 311 
 
 conditions of our respective countries: "but 
 we are in a state of torpor. My jurisdiction, 
 of which you seem to think so much, what is 
 it? I bear all the expenses, and have some 
 anxiety in the maintenance of order and the 
 administration of justice; but as to power, 
 believe me, I possess as little as you do. No, 
 no ; we are, and have been, very well off for 
 many years back ; because it so happens that 
 our emperors have been good men, who desired 
 to see their subjects happy; but suppose one 
 should arise whose inclinations tended in an 
 opposite direction, what security have we 
 against his caprices ? I don't mean to say that 
 any of us are now desirous of following your 
 footsteps, for you have overleaped the jmie 
 milieu with a vengeance,— but I do wish, and 
 80 do all classes among us, that we had some- 
 thing more to say in the management of our 
 
 own affairs." 
 
 I could not help feeling that the nobleman 
 who thus expressed himself, had justice on his 
 side; and, as I found upon inquiry that a 
 similar desire prevailed elsewhere,— among the 
 citizens, among the priesthood, among profes- 
 
 Vi 
 
 , 
 
 sional men, and even among the peasants, — ^I 
 came to the conclusion that the day even of 
 Bohemian regeneration cannot be very far 
 distant- 
 
 Among other topics which our good friend of 
 Hernskrietchen discussed with us, the state of 
 ecclesiastical affairs, and the progress of educa- 
 tion in Bphemia, were not forgotten. I learned 
 from him, that almost all the benefices in the 
 country are miserably poor; that the lands 
 which used to belong to them have been 
 absorbed by the nobility; and that now the 
 parochial clergy are supported by a very modi- 
 fied species of tithe, and by the free-will offer- 
 ings of their flocks. These last, I ascertained, 
 amounted to scarcely anything, for even the 
 fees on marriages, burials, &c., were not always 
 paid. " How impolitic," said I, " as well as 
 unjust, to plunder one class of citizens, and 
 that not the least important in the community, 
 for the mere purpose of overloading another, 
 already sufficiently rich. As if Bohemia and 
 the Bohemians were the gainers by transferring 
 to particular families estates, which originally 
 stood open to be competed for by j>ersons from 
 
812 
 
 SLENDER INFLUENCE 
 
 every rank, and were more generally won by 
 the children of the humbler than by the sons of 
 the higher orders."—" Very true," replied my 
 friend, "but you Englishmen have not much 
 right to pity us. At present your clergy may 
 be more wealthy than we. But it is the fashion 
 of the age to depress the order everywhere ; 
 and, if I read what is going on in London 
 aright, your hour of depression is not far dis- 
 tant." I smiled, and affected to treat his 
 apprehensions lightly, though I acknowledged 
 to myself that he might, perhaps, have too 
 much ground for the assumption. 
 
 The Austrian government, it appears, is quite 
 as strict in dealing with its ecclesiastical, as 
 with its lay subjects. No communications are 
 permitted to be carried on between the heads 
 of the church in Austria, and the see of Rome, 
 till the letters on both sides have been sub- 
 mitted to the inspection of the minister. Even 
 a bull from the pope falls dead upon the Aus- 
 trian territory, unless the emperor think fit to 
 recognize it ; and as to the distribution of pa- 
 tronage, in that his Holiness never interferes. 
 Confiraied the bishops doubtless are at Rome, 
 
 OF THE POPE. 
 
 313 
 
 with somewhat of the same freedom of choice 
 which our deans and chapters exercise in refer- 
 ence to a conge ctelire; but as to nominating even 
 a curate to his charge, the pope may no more 
 venture to do that, than to declare the throne 
 itself vacant. My friend seemed to complain 
 of all this as a grievous encroachment on the 
 rights of the Church. For my part I gave the 
 Austrian government full credit for acting 
 wisely; indeed, I might have wondered that it 
 did not go further, had I not been aware that 
 liberty of conscience is apt to create a desire 
 for something more, and that the mind which 
 is encouraged to investigate freely into points 
 of religious doctrine, seldom stops short till it 
 has inquired into points of civil polity also. 
 
 They who imagine that there is in Bohemia 
 any lack of that which we absurdly call educa- 
 tion, are mistaken. In every parish there is a 
 school, to w^hich the people are compelled by 
 law to send their children, between the ages of 
 six and twelve. Both boys and girls are thus 
 universally taught, I do not say how carefully, 
 to read ; many of both sexes can write and 
 keep accounts, while such as have ears for music 
 
 VOL. I. P 
 
 I 
 
314 
 
 AUFFENBERG. 
 
 are further instructed in singing. As a remu- 
 neration for all this, the schoolmaster receives 
 from government a free house and garden, with 
 a small salary in money; which is further 
 augmented by a trifling weekly payment from 
 each child. The amount, I find, both of the 
 public and private payments, varies in different 
 places ; but probably the highest in Bohemia 
 would not give to the man of letters thirty 
 pounds a year, while the lowest would reduce 
 his annual income to less than five. More- 
 over, I found, to my great surprise, that not 
 only is the Bible, — a German translation from 
 the Vulgate, — not proscribed, but that it is to 
 be found in every school, and sometimes in the 
 very cottages. So mistaken is the prejudice 
 which charges the Romish clergy in general 
 with waging a war of extermination against 
 
 the written word of God. 
 
 In discussing such topics as these, varied from 
 time to time by remarks upon the state of 
 England, concerning which my friend was very 
 curious, a couple of hours were pleasantly spent ; 
 at the termination of which the fair village 
 of Auffenberg, hove, as a seaman would express 
 
 THE PARSONAGE. 
 
 315 
 
 it, in sight. It stands upon the brow of a low 
 green mound, almost in the centre of a huge 
 amphitheatre of mountains, so far removed, 
 however, as to give to the elevated valley 
 which they surround, the appearance of a vast 
 plain, A large and rather handsome church, 
 begirt by a churchyard, within the circle of 
 which numerous saints and angels, painted or 
 sculptured, keep guard, occupies what may be 
 called the cone of the hill, while, down the 
 slope, with a lawn or meadow spread round it, 
 lies the parsonage. This latter struck me as 
 having about it a greater appearance of neat- 
 ness than any mansion of the kind which I 
 had as yet seen in Germany. A crop of hay 
 having been just removed from the meadow 
 gave to its green a peculiar freshness, which 
 contrasted well with the foliage of a densely 
 planted shrubbery, and of the apple and other 
 fruit trees that grew around. Neither was the 
 impression which a distant view of the scene 
 had created, enfeebled by a closer inspection. 
 As we opened the swing-gate, and passed a 
 little wood-house, traversing the flagged path 
 which conducted to the door, I could have well 
 
316 
 
 THE PARSONAGE. 
 
 nigh imagined myself approaching one of those 
 modest cottages which give, even to the most 
 remote of English districts, a peculiar air of 
 civilization and refinement. There needed, 
 indeed, but one or two healthy children romp- 
 ing on the green to complete the illusion ; but, 
 alas ! such things were not. 
 
 In passing through the village I had been 
 more than once taught that my guide, though 
 now removed from the pastoral care of Auf- 
 fenberg, continued to hold a place in the affec- 
 tionate remembrances of its inhabitants. The 
 women smiled and spoke kindly to him, the 
 men doffed their hats with much more than 
 cold respect, and the children, running out of 
 doors, seized his hand and kissed it. In like 
 manner the reception given to him by the 
 housekeeper who opened the vicarage door, 
 showed that he was upon the best possible 
 terms with his neighbour and fellow minister. 
 For the curate himself it appeared, had walked 
 abroad. It was one o'clock, and having finished 
 his dinner by half-past twelve, he was gone, as 
 usual, to visit some sick person ; but if we 
 would be seated, she would run to the place 
 
 THE PARSONAGE. 
 
 Sir 
 
 wbere she believed him to be, and fetch him 
 home. We sat down accordingly to await his 
 
 return. 
 
 The room into which we were ushered served, 
 like that at Hernskrietchen, a three-fold pur- 
 pose ; but it was at once more capacious and 
 better furnished. Two or three windows, more- 
 over, threw in a large portion of light, a very 
 material ingredient in what may be called the 
 elements of cheerfulness in an apartment, and 
 its floor was boarded. "Is your friend the 
 incumbent here ?" asked I. " Oh, no," was the 
 answer, " he is only curate, as I was till the 
 Prince of Clari presented me to the benefice at 
 Hernskrietchen. The incumbent of Auffen- 
 berg resides chiefly in Prague, of which cathe- 
 dral he is a canon." The answer surprised me, 
 because I remembered that, by one of the de- 
 crees of the Council of Trent, pluralities in the 
 Church of Rome had been abolished ; and I 
 proceeded to question him as to the grounds on 
 which the canon of Prague contrived to elude 
 that decree. He did not seem much to rehsh 
 this question, and evaded rather than replied 
 to it, by stating that the church in Bohemia 
 
 P 2 
 
318 
 
 THE CUEATE. 
 
 had many privileges of its own, of which this 
 was one. "But," continued he, "our privi- 
 leges—such as they are— depend upon the 
 humours of the government, and are not very 
 likely to continue with us. You Englishmen 
 speak of us as a race of bigoted Catholics. I 
 don't know what you mean by the expression ; 
 but if it imply that our laity care one straw 
 about the church of which they profess to be 
 members, I assure you that you are mistaken. 
 They would plunder us, poor priests, of our 
 last kreutzer just as cheerfully as your Pro- 
 testant House of Commons would plunder 
 your clergy." I looked at my friend with 
 astonishment, for I could not have imagined 
 that the humble vicar of a place like Herns- 
 krietchen should have taken the trouble to 
 inquire, or form an opinion, however erroneous, 
 of our proceedings in London ; but I did not 
 pursue the subject further. It was one which 
 he seemed unwilling to enlarge upon, and I felt 
 that I had no right to outrage his humours. 
 
 By this time the housekeeper had returned 
 to announce that her master would be with us 
 immediately, and in a few minutes more the 
 
 THE CURATE. 
 
 319 
 
 curate himself entered. His age might be 
 about three-and-twenty. He was very pale, 
 with fine dark intelligent eyes, a mouth full of 
 expression, teeth remarkably white, and short, 
 thick, dark brown hair that clustered and curled 
 about his temples. His dress struck me as at 
 once picturesque and peculiar. A black frock- 
 coat, with standing collar, a black stock having 
 a Vandyked lace shirt-collar, rolled tightly over 
 it, a silk vest, very wide trousers, and a pair- 
 almost of jack-boots, drawn over them ; this, 
 with a neat black velvet skull-cup, made up 
 the dress of the handsome, but delicate and 
 imaginative-looking youth, who stood before me, 
 and°bade me welcome. From the first moment 
 that I saw him, I put him down, in my own 
 mind, as one of those enthusiastic and unearthly 
 beings whom the German universities from 
 time to time produce ; and I found, on inquiry 
 afterwards of my friend from Hernskrietchen, 
 that the impression was not an erroneous one. 
 The son of a miller, a sickly child from his 
 cradle, he had been educated for the ministry, 
 towards which all his hopes, and wishes, and 
 aspirations continually pointed; and having 
 
320 
 
 OUR ENTERTAINMENT 
 
 AT THE PARSONAGE. 
 
 321 
 
 been Recently ordained, he was now killing 
 himself by over-exertion in the holy cause to 
 which his energies were dedicated. But this 
 was not all. He had already appeared as an 
 author, — first, of certain poems, which, among 
 his class-fellows at least, had made some noise ; 
 and more recently of a tour through that part 
 of Bohemia towards which our steps were 
 directed. I would have willingly purchased his 
 book, had he taken the hint which I threw out ; 
 but with great modesty he assured me, that he 
 did not possess so much as a copy for himself; 
 and, I regret to add, that I have not yet been 
 so fortunate as to discover it. 
 
 The curate had dined; but he caused his 
 housekeeper to bring forth, without delay, some 
 sweet cakes, a can of beer, and four coffee cups. 
 Just as we were preparing to sit down, a third 
 person walked in, and the conversation became 
 immediately very animated. Our host de- 
 scribed to his senior brethren a case which he 
 was well nigh induced to regard as one of pos- 
 session, and consulted them how it might best 
 be dealt with. I ventured to recommend the 
 calling in of a skilful physician, or, in case of 
 
 the worst, a mad-house ; and the stranger, with 
 a peculiar smile, enforced my views. But we 
 had some difficulty in persuading our enthusias- 
 tic host that the days of demoniacal possessions 
 were passed away. 
 
 Meanwhile, as fast as the beer and coffee 
 disappeared, the housekeeper hastened to reple- 
 nish our cups, till I was forced to lay both 
 hands upon mine, and protest that I could con- 
 tain no more. Nor were we the only parties 
 refreshed in this hospitable kitchen. Two 
 strapping wenches, perhaps eighteen or nine- 
 teen years old, were hard at work in the wood- 
 house as we passed by. These now entered, 
 and being supplied by the housekeeper with 
 a mess of some description, they set to work ; 
 and, diving into the same dish with their 
 respective spoons, caused it to disappear with 
 wonderful rapidity. Finally, there came to the 
 door an old ragged beggar-man, who was not 
 sent away empty, and who seemed very grateful 
 for the alms that were bestowed upon him. 
 
 We sat with our clerical friends till three 
 o'clock, and derived from their conversation a 
 great deal of amusement as well as instruction. 
 
 11 
 
322 
 
 START FOR TETCHEN. 
 
 To do them justice, though exceedingly cheer- 
 ful, they seemed quite in earnest in their voca- 
 tion, except perhaps the last comer ; and even 
 in his case I am not sure that I have any right 
 to put a loose interpretation on the jokes 
 which he cracked with the maidens behind him, 
 or the expression of countenance which ac- 
 companied them. I thought, indeed, that his 
 brother functionaries would have been better 
 pleased had such jokes been omitted ; and I 
 drew from their manner, as much as from the 
 acts of the individual himself, a conclusion 
 somewhat unfavourable to his tastes, if not to 
 his principles. 
 
 It was now time for us to resume our jour- 
 ney, for a considerable space yet divided us 
 from Tetchen, — our guide, in his zeal to point 
 out to us every object that was worth seeing, 
 having carried us very wide from the direct 
 route. Having, therefore, obtained from our 
 host sundry directions touching the points to be 
 visited, and the highways and byeways to be fol- 
 lowed, we bade him farewell ; and, still attended 
 by our friend from Hernskrietchen, once more 
 set forward. He conducted us beyond the 
 
 <•"// 
 
 BEAUTIFUL SCENBRY. 
 
 Nfe] 
 
 323 
 
 bounds of the parish, pointed out whereabouts 
 Tetchen lay, told us how we ought to proceed 
 in order to gain the chaussee, or main road, and 
 then took his leave. We parted with mutual 
 regret, though certainly not without the hope 
 of soon meeting again. 
 
 My young companion and I were now left to 
 ourselves, and as the weather was intensely hot, 
 and we had traversed no inconsiderable extent 
 of country, a sense of fatigue began to gain the 
 mastery over us. We could not, however, 
 afford to indulge in long rests, for the day was 
 wearing on, and Tetchen, our point for the 
 night, still eluded our gaze. On, therefore, we 
 trudged, over hill and dale, through wood and 
 glen, till, from the summit of an eminence 
 which the priest had pointed out to us, Tetchen, 
 with its glorious environs, burst upon us. It 
 is scarcely possible to conceive a view more 
 beautiful than that upon which we now gazed. 
 The Elbe, of which we had long lost sight, 
 once more made his appearance, winding down 
 between mountains, — not like those at Schan- 
 dau and Hernskrietchen, abrupt and precipi- 
 tous,— but sloping gently away from him, till 
 
324 
 
 i^TETCHEN. 
 
 their tall green summits appeared to mingle 
 with the clouds. In every direction such was 
 the general outline of the country. The long 
 graceful rye w^aved upwards on the mountain's 
 sides; the richer, darker, and deeper clover 
 covered the bottoms: thick woods here and 
 there intervened ; while numerous white houses, 
 one of them a manufactory of cotton thread, 
 studded the landscape. Last of all, just at the 
 very bottom of the hollow, and close beside the 
 margin of the river, lay Tetchen, nestling, as it 
 were, under the shadow of the noble schloss, 
 of which the Counts Thun have long been the 
 owners. The contemplation of such a pano- 
 rama could not fail of restoring vigour to our 
 somewhat overwrought limbs. After halting 
 for a few minutes to enjoy it, we tossed up our 
 loads ; and pushing on, made no farther pause, 
 till we had gained the interior of the Gasthof 
 zum Guldenen Krone, in the market-place. 
 
 1 
 
 \ 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 London : John W. Parkjcr, St. Martin's Lank. 
 
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 Columbia College Library I 
 
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 Beside the main topic this hook also treats of 
 ^ Subject No, On page I Subject No. On page 
 
GERMANY, 
 
 BOHEMIA, AND HUNGARY, 
 
 Visited in 1837. 
 
 BT 
 
 THE REV. G. R. GLEIG, M.A, 
 
 CHAPLAIN TO THE ROYAL HOSPITAL, 
 CHELSEA. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 LONDON: 
 JOHN W. PARKER, WEST STRAND. 
 
 M.DCCC.XXXIX. 
 
«i,nM i . i i iii ini i iimi i ' i iij I p i i i .> " I " 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 \ 
 
 CONTENTS OF VOLUME II. 
 
 Page 
 
 Chap. I. The Gulden Krone — Count Thun's Castle and 
 Grounds — Glorious Scenery — The March resumed — 
 Superstitions of the Bohemians not Idolatry — State of 
 Property — Agricultural Population — Kamnitz — The 
 Cow-herds — Stein Jena — Hayde - - - 
 
 Chap. II. Our Landlady and Washerwoman — The 
 Einsiedlerstein— Its Dungeons and Hall-— Its History 
 
 Inscription over the Hermit's Grave — Lose our 
 
 "Way — Guided by a Peasant — His Conversation — 
 Mistaken for Italian Musicians — Gabel 
 
 Chap. III. General Appearance of the Place — The Inn 
 ^Ludicrous Mistakes — The Public Room— Astonish- 
 ment of the People at the sight of Englishmen— The 
 Priests— Scene in the Tap-Room — Kindness of the 
 People — Our Fishing Operations — A Chasse, and a 
 Daylight Ball - - - - 
 
 Chap. IV. Our Landlord becomes our Guide — Pecu- 
 liar Scenery of this part of Bohemia— A Village Beer- 
 house — Travelling Mechanics — The Torpindas — Toil- 
 some March — Marchovides — Entertainment there - 
 
 1 
 
 34 
 
 57 
 
 80 
 
 Chap. V. March renewed — Scenery more and more 
 grand— A Population of Weavers— Hochstadt — The 
 
 Iser Magnificent River, and capital Trouting — Star- 
 
 kenbach— Kindness of the Inhabitants— Carried to 
 the Chancellor's House— Fish the Iser again— The 
 effect of my sport on a Religious Procession — Supper 
 at the High Bailiff's— Game at Chess— Take leave 
 of our kind Hosts with mutual regret - - 105 
 
 Chap. VI. The Elbe, a Mountain-stream — We Fish it 
 —Dine on our Fish in a Village Inn— The Young 
 Torpinda — Arnau — The Franciscan Convent— Trou- 
 t^nau— The Wandering Minstrels — March continued 
 
 63B09 
 
IV 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 —Fish the River— Villap;e Inn, and account of the 
 Torpindas— First Meeting with these formidable Peo- 
 ple in a Wood— Another Pedestrian Tourist— Ader- 
 gpach— Excellent Quarters— Remarkable Rocks— The 
 
 Ti^- X 1 • . - - 128 
 
 Mmstrels agam - - - - 
 
 Chap. VII. Walk lo Shatzlar— -Magnificent Scenery- 
 Extreme Fatigue— Our Landlord— Early associations 
 awakened by a Scene in the Market-place— Rest for 
 a day— Ascent of Schnee-Koppee— Halt at a Village 
 on the Silesian side - - -n- - -10 
 
 Chap. VIII. Warmbrunn — Objects around — Dilemma 
 — Hirschberg— How Travellers may manage when 
 their Purses grow light— Pass for Russians, and derive 
 great benefit from the arrangement— Lang- Wasser— 
 Greiflfenberg — The Prussian Landwehr — Golden 
 Traum — Scene in the Village Inn— Bernstadt — 
 Hemhut— The Hemhuters— Agriculture in Bohemia 
 — Schlukenau — Schandau - - - - 179 
 
 Chap. IX. The Diligence from Dresden to Toplitz— 
 The Field of Kulm— The Battle, and the Monuments 
 that record it ^^^ 
 
 Chap. X. Toplitz— Its Gaieties— Journey resumed— 
 First View of Prague— General Character of the City 
 — The Hradschin— Cathedral— University— Historical 
 
 details connected with it— The Reformation in Bo- 
 hemia -------- ^/o 
 
 Chap. XI. The Jews' Town— Visits to various Points 
 worth noticing— State of Public Feeling - - 333 
 
 Chap. XII. Quit Prague — Journey to Brunn by Kbnig- 
 gratz — State of the Country — Briinn— Its Public 
 Buildings — Absence of the Moravian Brethren - 353 
 
 Chap. XIII. Country between Briinn and Vienna — 
 Vienna — Journey to Presburg — ^Presburg — ^The Hun- 
 garian Constitution ------ 372 
 
 GERMANY, BOHEMIA, AND HUNGARY, 
 
 IN 1837. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 the gulden krone. — COUNT thun's castle and grounds. 
 
 —GLORIOUS SCENERY.— the MARCH RESUMED.— SUPER- 
 STITIONS OF THE BOHEMIANS NOT IDOLATRY. — STATE 
 
 OF PROPERTY OF THE AGRICULTURAL POPULATION. 
 
 KAMNITZ. — THE COW-HERDS.— STEIN JENA. — HAYDE. 
 
 We had quitted home not unprepared for the 
 suspicious looks which innkeepers might be 
 expected to cast upon us, strangely equipped 
 as we were, rude of speech, and so very humble 
 in the style of our travel. We were, therefore, 
 nothing daunted by the somewhat cold reception 
 which our host of the Golden Crown vouch- 
 safed; and boldly questioned him relative to his^ 
 means of supplying our wants, namely, supper, 
 a bottle of wine, and a good bed-room. The 
 confidence of our tone seemed to restore his ; 
 for he forthwith conducted us upstairs ; and we 
 VOL. II. ^ 
 
 I; 
 
ANIMAL FOOD 
 
 were ushered into a snug little apartment, in 
 which stood two beds, a table, a chest of 
 drawers, and four or five chairs. This was all, 
 in the way of lodging, of which we were 
 desirous ; and the next point to be settled was 
 supper. What could they produce? Had 
 they any mutton? No. Beef? None. Poultry? 
 Nothing of the sort. What then ? Veal, or, 
 as it is elegantly termed, calb's-flesh, which 
 could be served up within the space of an hour 
 and a-half, either gokocht,— that is, boiled, or 
 grebraten, — i. e., roasted. And here let me 
 observe once for all, that he whose taste or 
 whose stomach cannot be satisfied with veal, 
 had better not travel in Germany. For veal is 
 to the Germans what beef is to us, — the every- 
 day diet of such as devour animal food at all ; 
 whereas beef they seem to use only at large 
 hotels as materials for soup-making, while 
 mutton is a luxury. Neither is it difficult to 
 account for this. There are no extensive pas- 
 turages, even in the mountain districts of 
 Germany, as there are in the Highlands of 
 Scotland, and in the fens of Lincolnshire and 
 Kent. Wherever the land has been cleared of 
 
 IN GERMANY. 
 
 wood, it is laid under the plough; wherever 
 the wood continues, the utmost care is taken 
 to prevent cattle and sheep from breaking in, 
 and so destroying what is the principal fuel of 
 the country. The consequence is, that people 
 cannot afford to rear more cattle than is ab- 
 solutely necessary for working the land, and 
 supplying the dairies, — ^nor, indeed, if they 
 could afford it, would the means of doing so 
 be attainable. Hence the poor little calves, 
 while yet in that state of innocence which 
 entitles them among the Irish to the generic 
 appellation of staggering bobs, are in nine cases 
 out of ten transferred to the butcher, whose 
 stall, if it contain nothing else, is sure to fur- 
 nish an abundant supply of dead animals, which 
 you might easily mistake for cats that have 
 perished by atrophy. 
 
 Being fully aware of these important parti- 
 culars, we expressed neither surprise nor regret 
 when the solemn announcement was made to 
 us, that we might have roasted veal for supper ;; 
 but having ordered it to be prepared, together 
 with an eyer-kuchen, or egg-souffle, as a sup- 
 porter, we set about changing our attire pre- 
 
 B 2 
 
II 
 
 4 CASTLE OF TETCHEN. 
 
 paratory to a ramble through the town. My 
 friend, the Honourable Francis Scott, having 
 kindly introduced me to Count Thun, I sent 
 my card by the waiter to the castle, and learned, 
 to my great disappointment, that the family 
 were all in Prague. It is needless to add, that, 
 in the absence of the owners, I was conducted 
 over the castle and grounds by a very intelli- 
 gent domestic, or that, returning on another 
 occasion, I stand indebted to its owner for 
 much kindness. I do not think, however, that 
 there is any justification for the practice which 
 too much prevails, of first accepting the hospi- 
 tality of a stranger, and then describing the 
 mode in which it was dispensed. I content 
 myself, therefore, with stating that everything 
 in the household of Count Thun corresponds 
 to his high rank and cultivated tastes ; and that 
 . he who has once enjoyed, even for a brief space, 
 as I did, the pleasure of his conversation, will 
 desire few things more earnestly, than that 
 another opportunity of so doing shall occur. 
 
 The castle of Tetchen is a very noble thing, 
 and its situation magnificent. It crowns the 
 summit of a rock overhanging the Elbe, and 
 
 CASTLE OF TETCHEN. O 
 
 commands, from its windows, one of the most 
 glorious prospects on which, even in this 
 land of glorious scenery, the eye need desire 
 to rest. Originally a baronial hold, it has, 
 in the progress of time and events, gradu- 
 ally changed its character. It now resembles 
 a college or palace, more than a castle. You 
 approach it from the town by a long gallery, 
 walled in on both sides, though open to the 
 skv and are conducted to an extensive quad- 
 rangle, round which the buildings are erected. 
 Tliey do not belong to any particular school, 
 unless that deserve to be so designated, which 
 the Italian architects, some century and a-half 
 ao-o. introduced, to the decided misfortune of 
 of the proprietors, into Germany. Thus, the 
 schloss of which I am speaking, is not only 
 cut up into different suites of apartments, but 
 each suite, besides being accessible by a door 
 that opens to the court, is surrounded along 
 the interior by an open gallery, into which each 
 individual chamber-door opens. The conse- 
 quence is, that in winter, at least, it must 
 be next to impossible to keep any part of 
 the house warm, for the drafts are endless, 
 
CASTLE OF TETCHEN. 
 
 CASTLE OF TETCHEN. 
 
 and the exposure to the atmosphere is very 
 great. 
 
 When we visited Tetchen for the second 
 time, the contents of a very valuable green- 
 house appeared to have been brought forth into 
 the central court. The effect was most striking; 
 for all sorts of rare and sweet-smelling shrubs 
 were there; and flowers of every dye loaded 
 the air with their perfume. The gardens, like- 
 wise, which lie under the rock, and in the 
 management of which the count takes great 
 delight, were beautiful. One, indeed, a fruit 
 garden, is yet only in its infancy; but another, 
 which comes between the castle and the market- 
 place, reminded me more of the shady groves of 
 Oxford than of anything which I have observed 
 on the Continent. Count Thun, moreover, 
 having visited England, and seen and justly 
 appreciated, the magnificent parks which form 
 the characteristic charm of our scenery, seems 
 willing, as far as the different situations of the 
 two countries will allow, to walk in our foot- 
 steps. He has enclosed a rich meadow that 
 runs by the bank of the Elbe, and treats it as 
 his demesne. All this is the more praiseworthy 
 
 on his part, that even in his own day the castle 
 of Tetchen has suffered most of the calamities 
 of war, except an actual siege. Twice during 
 the late struggle, was it seized and occupied as 
 a post, a garrison put into the house, and 
 cannon mounted over the ramparts; nay, the 
 very trees in the garden, which it cost so much 
 pains to cultivate, and such a lapse of time to 
 nourish, were all destined to be cut down. 
 Fortunately, however, an earnest remonstrance 
 from the count procured a suspension of the 
 order, till the enemy should make his ap- 
 proaches ; and as this never happened, the trees 
 still survive, to afford the comfort of their 
 shade both to their owner and his visitors. 
 The havoc occasioned by the throwing up of 
 batteries was not, however, to be avoided; and 
 it is only within these three or four years that 
 the mansion has resumed its peaceful cha- 
 racter. \ 
 
 There is an excellent library in the castle of 
 Tetchen, of which the inmates make excellent 
 use. It contains some valuable works in almost 
 all the European languages, with a complete 
 set of the classics ; and as the tastes of the 
 
 % 
 
 
8 
 
 CASTLE OF TETCHEN. 
 
 owner lead him to make continual accessions to 
 it, the hall set apart for its reception, though of 
 gigantic proportions, threatens shortly to over- 
 flow. I must not forget, however, that even by 
 these allusions to the habits of my host, I am 
 touching upon the line which common delicacy 
 seems to me to have prescribed ; therefore when 
 I have stated that a brighter picture of domestic 
 affection and happiness has rarely come under 
 my observation than that with which my hur- 
 ried visit to Tetchen presented me, I pass to 
 other matters, not perhaps in themselves either 
 more important or more interesting, but afford- 
 ing freer scope to remark, because not calcu- 
 lated to jar against individual feeling. 
 
 To wander amid these beautiful gardens, and 
 gaze from the summer-house along the course 
 of the Elbe, occupied all the space of time 
 which my companion and I had set apart for 
 the preparation of our evening meal. We 
 accordingly returned to the inn, fully disposed 
 to do justice to the viands which might be 
 served up to us. They were well dressed, and 
 the bottle of Hungarian wine which accom- 
 panied them was excellent, so that when we 
 
 RAMBLE THROUGH THE TOWN. 
 
 9 
 
 sallied forth again to examine the town, it was 
 in the most benevolent temper of mind imagin- 
 able. Every object was seen through a highly 
 favourable medium. The little quiet square 
 and market-place, with its ever-flowing but very 
 dirty fountain, appeared emblematical of the 
 contented and happy lot of the people who 
 dwelt round it. The Elbe, glowing in the rich 
 and varied hues of sunset, had about him a 
 thousand charms, for which language has no 
 power of expression ; and finally, the view from 
 a small chapel which stands on the summit of a 
 rock about an English mile below the town — 
 that as it would have delighted even a hungry 
 man, was to us enchanting. Seriously, and 
 without attributing too much to the genial in- 
 fluence of a change of habiliments, and a good 
 supper, I have seldom looked upon a scene 
 altogether so fascinating as that which now lay 
 before me. ^ 
 
 Our sleep that night was sound and refresh- 
 ing. We had ordered breakfast at half-past 
 five, and till five nothing occurred to disturb 
 us ; but then the old and well-nigh forgotten 
 habits of the campaigner seemed to come back 
 
 B 3 
 
10 
 
 START FOR HAYDE. 
 
 upon me, for I awoke to a second at the time 
 which I had fixed upon. Up we sprang ; 
 arrayed ourselves in our walking-dresses, stowed 
 away our more gentlemanlike habiliments in 
 the knapsacks, and addressed ourselves to break- 
 fast. In Germany, as has been stated else- 
 where, this is but a sorry affair of a meal at the 
 best ; it consists of nothing more than a cup or 
 two of coffee, with some sweetish cakes ; but 
 we took care to order, over and above, a mode- 
 rate supply of white bread and butter, and we 
 consumed it all, much to our host's surprise and 
 edification. Then came the settling of the bill, 
 which seemed to please him better, and we 
 were once more en route. 
 
 Our point to-day was Hayde, a town which 
 our informants described as distant from Tetchen 
 about seven stunden, — ^that is to say, seven 
 hours' good walking, in other words, from 
 twenty-one to twenty-four English miles. 
 There was nothing in this announcement calcu- 
 lated to alarm us, for we had compassed the 
 day before at least five-and -twenty miles, and 
 though somewhat over-wrought when we first 
 came in, we were now fresh and vigorous. But 
 
 EXTREME FATIGUE. 
 
 11 
 
 I am bound to add that either the miles proved 
 more numerous than we had been led to expect, 
 or that we were in bad case for walking. I 
 have seldom suffered more from blistered feet 
 and positive weariness, than I did on my march 
 to Hayde. 
 
 The sun was shining brightly in a cloudless 
 sky, when we quitted Tetchen. The cool air 
 of the morning still, however, blew around us, 
 and the landscape which seemed so fair even in 
 the last glimmering of twilight, appeared now 
 more beautiful than ever. Our roilte lay up 
 the face of one of the hills by which, on all 
 sides, Tetchen is surrounded, and we saw before 
 us the long and regular sweep of the high road 
 by which it behoved us to travel. For a brief 
 space, however, a foot-way through a succession 
 of green fields, all of them sparkling with the 
 dew, was at our command, and we gratefully 
 availed ourselves of it ; for it is one of the 
 advantages which a pedestrian enjoys over the 
 traveller, either in a carriage or on horseback, 
 that, provided he be sure of the direction in 
 which his object lies, he may cast both high- 
 ways and bridle-paths behind him. 
 
12 
 
 SUPERSTITION, 
 
 NOT IDOLATRY. 
 
 13 
 
 The effect which is produced upon a Pro- 
 testant traveller by the frequent recurrence, in 
 Catholic countries, of crucifixes, chapels, and 
 images, both by the road-side and elsewhere, 
 has been frequently described. At first, you 
 are affected with a sense almost of awe ; which 
 even to the last does not wholly evaporate; 
 especially if you find, as we did this morn- 
 ing, that by the inhabitants, these symbols 
 are held in profound veneration. In passing 
 from Hernskrietchen to Tetchen, such objects 
 had repeatedly crossed our view ; and we had 
 seen the country people lift their hats and cross 
 themselves as they neared them. To-day we 
 found a rustic on his knees before a chapel, 
 within which, gaudily painted and dressed, were 
 waxen images of a Virgin and child. Was this 
 idolatry ? I cannot believe it. Even if his prayer 
 were addressed to the Virgin, which I have no 
 right to assume that it was, should I be justified 
 in charging this poor man with a breach of the 
 second commandment in the Decalogue, merely 
 because he besought the mother of Christ to 
 intercede for him with her Son and his Re- 
 deemer ? Absurd and unmeaning such prayers 
 
 to saints unquestionably are ; for where is the 
 ground for believing that they hear us ; or even 
 if they do, what right have we to suppose that 
 they can or will presume to interfere in matters 
 which nowise concern them? And when, over 
 and above all this, we found upon a practice 
 in itself so unmeaning, the monstrous doctrine 
 of human merit, then, indeed, that which was 
 originally foolish, becomes presumptuous and 
 wicked. But the accusation of idolatry is by 
 far too grave to be lightly brought against any 
 class of persons whose creed is, in all essential 
 particulars, the same with our own, and who err 
 only in this, that they believe a great deal too 
 much. It is, therefore, to be regretted, that in 
 their zeal to remove error, so many well-inten- 
 tioned persons should exaggerate the faults 
 which they combat ; for, independently of the 
 wound which is thereby inflicted upon Christian 
 charity, prejudices are but confirmed in proper- 
 tion as indignation is roused. " You may de- 
 monstrate to me, if you can, that we are mis- 
 taken in supposing that the souls of the faithful 
 hear us ; but why allege that we put our trust 
 in them, because we pray to them? Don't 
 you get your ministers to pray for you when 
 
14 
 
 SUPEESTITION, 
 
 NOT IDOLATRY. 
 
 15 
 
 you are sick ? Don't they pray for you in your 
 churches ; and is our purpose in addressing the 
 saints different from yours in your dealings 
 with your pastor ? We only beseech the Virgin, 
 or St. John, to do that for us, which you get 
 a man of like passions and frailties with your- 
 self to do for you." 
 
 Such is th^ Roman Catholic's mode of re- 
 pelling the charge of idolatry which we bring 
 against him ; and in good truth I do not see 
 how his argument is to be set aside. But take 
 other grounds with him, and behold how the 
 case stands. " I don't accuse you of idolatry, 
 far from it ; but I do assert that you are acting 
 very absurdly. For, first, there is nothing in 
 Scripture which justifies us in believing that the 
 spirits of the deceased are aware of what is 
 passing on earth at all ; and secondly, were it 
 otherwise, such creatures could not, unless 
 they possessed the faculty of ubiquity, pay the 
 smallest attention to petitions which are ad- 
 dressed to them at the same time from perhaps 
 an hundred or a thousand different places. If 
 St. John, for example, be at this moment listen- 
 ing to a devotee in the island of Sincapore, how 
 can he hear me who am calling to him out of 
 
 Bohemia? Our minister, on the other hand, 
 acts but as our mouth-piece, and it is expressly 
 ordered in the New Testament that the church 
 shall pray for her sick members." Now here is 
 a dilemma out of which I cannot understand 
 how the saint-worshipper is to escape. For St. 
 John is either a creature, or he is not. If he 
 be a creature, it is impossible that he can be 
 present in two spots at one and the same mo- 
 ment. He cannot, therefore, attend at once to 
 me, who address him in Bohemia, and to the 
 saint-worshipper who solicits his aid from the 
 banks of the Mississippi. If he can be present 
 with us both, and with tens of thousands be- 
 sides, then he must possess the attribute of 
 ubiquity, and is, of course, not a creature. In 
 the latter case, what is he? This, then, I 
 humbly conceive to be the weapon with which 
 errors in the Roman Catholic's faith may most 
 appropriately be assailed, for though it inflict a 
 temporary wound upon men's self-love by ques- 
 tioning the powers of discrimination, leaves, at 
 least, their moral and religious intentions un- 
 questioned, and themselves, as a necessary con- 
 sequence, unfettered by the strongest of all 
 shackles, that of outraged principle. 
 
w 
 
 I 
 
 16 
 
 CONDITION OF THE 
 
 By the time we had reached the chaussee, or 
 main road, the morning was considerably ad- 
 vanced, and each new hour brought with it a 
 wonderful accession of heat. Not a cloud was 
 in the sky, and for a while, we were entirely 
 destitute of shade. For though here, as else- 
 where in Germany, the waysides be planted 
 with rows of trees, the trees were as yet too 
 young to prove essentially useful to the wan- 
 derer, and, to add to our misery, we had a long 
 and toilsome ascent before us, with a broad, 
 smooth, macadamised causeway, by which to 
 accomplish it. It is true, that as often as we 
 paused to look round, the glories of that mag- 
 nificent scene gave us back our courage. 
 Nevertheless, nature in this situation, as she is 
 wont to do in most others, would have her 
 way. We became exceedingly weary, and were 
 fain, on reaching a wood near the summit, to 
 sit down and rest. 
 
 Early as it was when our journey began, we 
 soon found that we had no chance of getting 
 the road to ourselves. Many wayfarers were 
 already abroad, among whom were several 
 women, loaded like jackasses, with enormous 
 panniers filled with I know not what species 
 
 
 WOMEN IN BOHEMIA. 
 
 17 
 
 of evidently heavy goods. The tasks, indeed, 
 which custom has imposed upon the lower 
 classes of women in Germany, create in a 
 stranger extreme surprise, if not indignation. 
 I have spoken of the effects of this ungallaut 
 arrangement as they display themselves in 
 Saxony ; and I am bound to add that, in Bo- 
 hemia, the same system is pursued, and the 
 very same results produced. Besides a large 
 portion of the field-work, such as hoeing, weed- 
 ing, digging, planting, &c., it has fallen to the 
 Bohemian women's share to be the bearers of 
 all burdens ; whether fire-wood be needed from 
 the forest, grass, butter, eggs, and other wares 
 required in the market-place, or trusses of hay 
 lie abroad in the fields which it is necessary to 
 fetch home. The inevitable consequence is, 
 that, generally speaking, a woman ceases to have 
 even a trace of youth about her by the time she 
 has passed thirty. At three or four-and-twenty, 
 she becomes brown and wrinkled, a year or two 
 later, she loses her teeth, and last of all comes 
 the goitre, which, by utterly destroying the 
 symmetry of her form, leaves her, at thirty, 
 little better than a wreck. As to the really 
 
 i 
 
 iU 
 
'■'M 
 
 11 
 
 ) 
 
 18 
 
 tl 
 
 GENERAL APPEARANCE 
 
 old folks, the grandams and maiden aunts of 
 the community, these are, at all moments, in a 
 condition to play with effect the characters of 
 Macbeth's witches; and when, as not unfre- 
 quently happens, they judge it expedient to go 
 about bareheaded, the resemblance which they 
 bear to the respectable individuals just alluded 
 to, is complete. Yet in youth, not a few of 
 the girls are extremely pretty; which makes 
 you the more regret that the customs of the 
 country, by subjecting them to such severe 
 hardships, should rob them of their bloom 
 before their time. 
 
 Having rested under the shadow of our 
 friendly grove sufficiently long to permit my 
 making a rough sketch of the valley beneath 
 us, we resumed our march, and rounding the 
 hill, opened out a new prospect, scarcely inferior 
 in point of beauty, though widely different in 
 kind, from that which had passed from our gaze. 
 We looked down upon a sort of basin, fertile, 
 and cultivated to the minutest corner, round 
 which, like sentinels on duty, were gathered a 
 succession of mountains, covered to their peaks 
 with foliage. The dark hue of the fir was here 
 
 OF THE COUNTRY. 
 
 19 
 
 beautifully intermixed with tlie fresher green of 
 the birch and hazel; while occasionally, an 
 enormous rock raised his bald front over all, 
 more after the fashion of a huge ruin, the 
 monument of man's vanity, than of a fabric of 
 nature's creation. But the circumstance which 
 more than all others surprised us, was the 
 density of the population. Of large towns 
 there seem to be, in Bohemia, very few ; but 
 every vale and strath is crowded with human 
 dwellings, village succeeding village, and ham- 
 let treading on hamlet, with the most remark- 
 able fecundity. On the other hand, you may 
 strain your eyes in vain in search of those spe- 
 cies of habitations which give to our English 
 landscapes their peculiar charm. There is no 
 such thing in all Bohemia,— I question whether 
 there be in all Germany,— as a park ; and as to 
 detached farm-houses, they are totally unknown. 
 The nobility inhabit what they term schlosses, 
 that is to say, castles or palaces, which are in- 
 variably planted down, either in the very heart 
 of a town or large village, or at most, a gun- 
 shot removed from it. No sweeping meadows 
 surround them with their tasteful swells, their 
 
 

 
 I i 
 
 ] 
 
 \t 
 
 w 
 
 •J 
 
 20 
 
 STATE OF AGRICULTURE. 
 
 umbrageous covers and lordly avenues ; no deer 
 troop from glade to glade, or cluster in groups 
 round the stem of some giant oak, their favou- 
 rite haunt for ages. But up to the very hall- 
 door, or at least to the foundations of the wall, 
 which girdles in the court-yard, perhaps twelve 
 or twenty feet wide, the plough regularly passes. 
 A garden, the grafF generally possesses, and his 
 taste in flowers is good ; but it almost always 
 happens that his very garden affords no privacy, 
 and that his flowers are huddled together within 
 some narrow space, perhaps in the very court- 
 yard of which I have already spoken as alone 
 dividing his mansion from the open and culti- 
 vated fields. 
 
 With respect, again, to the condition of the 
 cultivators, that is, in all respects, so different 
 from the state of our agricultural gentlemen at 
 home, that, even at the hazard of saying over 
 again what has been stated a thousand times 
 already, I must describe it at length. In the 
 first place, then, there is no class of persons in 
 Bohemia corresponding to our English farmer. 
 Nobody hires land in order to make a profit out 
 of it; at least nobody for such a purpose hires 
 
 
 
 STATE OF AGRICULTURE. 
 
 21 
 
 a large tract of land ; but each individual culti- 
 vates his own estate, whether it be of wide or of 
 narrow extent. Thus the graff, or prince, 
 though he be the owner of an entire circle, is 
 yet the only farmer within that circle. He does 
 not let an acre of ground to a tenant. But 
 having built what he conceives to be an ade- 
 quate number of bouerin-hauses, he plants in 
 each of these a bouer-man, and pays him for 
 tilling the ground. These bouerin-hauses, 
 again! are all clustered together into villages, 
 so that the bouerman is never without an abun- 
 dant society adapted to his tastes ; and very 
 happily, albeit very rudely, his days and nights 
 appear to be spent. 
 
 The land in Bohemia does not, however, 
 belong exclusively to any one order in the com- 
 munity. Many bouermen are owners of their 
 farms, some of them to the extent of one 
 hundred acres and more ; while almost every 
 township has its territories, which, like the 
 noble's estate, are cultivated for the benefit of 
 the burgh. But in all cases it is the owner, and 
 not the cultivator, to whom the proceeds of the 
 harvest belong. These are, indeed, gathered in 
 
-mi^m. 
 
 22 
 
 STATE OF 
 
 THE NOBILITY. 
 
 23 
 
 and housed for him by his representatives, who, 
 in addition to some fixed money-payment, for 
 the most part enjoy the privilege of keeping a 
 cow or two on the wastes belonging to the 
 manor ; but all the risk and trouble of convert- 
 ing his grain into money attaches to the pro- 
 prietor of the soil. 
 
 Two results spring out of this order of things 
 alike detrimental to the well-being of society. 
 First there does not exist, at least in the agri- 
 cultural districts, any middle class of society 
 at all, which is everywhere divided into two 
 orders, — ^the gentry and the peasantry. In 
 cities and large towns the case is, of course, dif- 
 ferent; for there the cultivation of letters and 
 of trade has its influence on the human mind ; 
 and professions hold something like the rank 
 which ought of right to belong to them when 
 they are what is called liberal. But in the 
 country, even the doctor and the priest seldom 
 find their way to a more lordly board than that 
 of the bouerman; and stand, in consequence, 
 at all times, on a level with the miller, the 
 butcher, and the host of the gasthof. Se- 
 condly, the nobles, having little ready money 
 
 V 
 
 \ 
 
 i 1 
 
 p . 
 b 
 
 at command, possess no means, whatever their 
 inclination may be, materially to improve the 
 condition of their dependants ; while their own 
 time being largely engrossed by the cares of 
 buying and selling, they not unfrequently 
 neglect to cultivate those mental powers in 
 which many of them are naturally rich. Nu- 
 merous exceptions to this latter rule doubtless 
 everywhere prevail ; for I am bound to add, 
 that such of the nobility as honoured me with 
 their acquaintance, were men of refined tastes 
 and very enlarged understandings. But the 
 rule itself holds good nevertheless, and would 
 equally dp so in any other country where a 
 similar order of things existed. 
 
 Through a succession of these villages, most 
 of them inhabited exclusively by bouermen, we 
 made our way, not without exciting, by the 
 novelty of our costume, a large share of public 
 curiosity. As often as we found it necessary, 
 however, to put a question to one of the won- 
 derers, we never failed to meet with a civil 
 reply: indeed, I must do the Bohemians of all 
 ranks the justice to record, that a kinder, more 
 obliging, and less mercenary people, it has 
 
24 
 
 KAMNITZ. 
 
 never been my fortune to visit. Illustrations 
 of this fact, I shall have occasion in the course 
 of my narrative, to give, though for the pre- 
 sent I content myself with stating the fact 
 
 broadly. 
 
 I do not recollect that anything worthy of 
 mention befel till we reached Kamnitz, — an 
 old town, and the centre of a circle,— through 
 which it behoved us to pass, in order to gain 
 first Stein Jena, and ultimately Hayde. The 
 town itself lies in a hollow, and is begirt near at 
 hand by well-wooded hills; but in itself it 
 offers few attractions to the stranger. Narrow 
 and deserted streets, with shops mean and 
 slenderly stocked, tell a tale of sta^ mt com- 
 merce; indeed, I may observe, once for all, 
 of the country towns in Bohemia, that it is 
 not among them that the traveller will find 
 food for reflection, or sources of gratification. 
 Far removed from the sea, with which their 
 single communication is by the Elbe, the Bo- 
 hemians have slender inducement to apply their 
 energies to trade, which is, in consequence, not 
 perhaps dead,— for there are manufactures of 
 various kinds in the kingdom, and more than 
 
 KAMNITZ. 
 
 25 
 
 one iron foundry, but exceedingly sickly and 
 torpid. 
 
 Kamnitz, like other chief towns of circles, 
 has its schloss, — the property of the emperor, — 
 in which the officials and the subordinates at 
 once reside and administer justice. It can 
 boast, likewise, of a large church and a prison ; 
 but as there was nothing in the exterior of 
 these buildings which at all excited our admi- 
 ration, we did not delay to examine them. 
 With respect, again, to other matters, I am 
 aware of only one custom in the place, of 
 which it is worth while to take notice. Kam- 
 nitz, it appears, is very much of an agricultural 
 town; tLx$ is to say, many owners of small 
 estates dwell there, and many cattle are kept. 
 During the winter months, both here and 
 elsewhere, the cattle never breathe the air 
 of heaven; but are kept mewed up in their 
 stalls, and fed on hay, and other dry fodder. 
 When the hay crop has been gathered in, and 
 the fields are ready for them, they are sent 
 abroad to graze, but always under the guidance 
 of keepers, who, at least in Kamnitz, are strictly 
 professional persons. Their mode of proceeding 
 
 VOL. II. o 
 
26 
 
 THE COW-HERDS. 
 
 is this. At early dawn, there is a flourish of 
 cow-horns in the streets, — a signal for opening 
 the stable-door, and leading forth the cattle to 
 pasture. The* animals are then collected in the 
 market-place, and handed over to the charge of 
 their appointed keepers, who, two or three in 
 number, drive the herd abroad, and are respon- 
 sible that they commit no trespass on the 
 growing corn. At night, a similar process 
 takes place. The cattle are led back by the 
 keepers to the market-place: horns are again 
 sounded; upon which each bouerman either 
 comes in person, or sends his deputy to receive 
 the beasts, and so conducts them to their stalls 
 for milking. 
 
 Kamnitz has at one period been a fortified 
 town, though probably that period is very 
 remote, — for against modern artillery a place 
 so situated could not hold out a single day. 
 Its gateways, and some fragments of the old 
 wall, remain, — objects at all times too inte- 
 resting to be wantonly removed. Beneath a 
 couple of these venerable arches we passed, — 
 first on entering, then on leaving the town, — 
 after which we found ourselves traversing a 
 
 'H 
 
 ADVICE TO PEDESTRIANS. 
 
 27 
 
 long and irregular hamlet, which in the form of 
 a suburb lines one side of the road, and so 
 faces a pretty little stream that skirts the other. 
 Crossing the rivulet by a bridge with two arches, 
 we began to climb the hilJ, on the brow of 
 which Stein Jena is situated, and from which 
 our friend, the young priest of AufFenberg, had 
 given us to understand, that we should obtain 
 one of the most magnificent views in this part 
 of Bohemia. Long and toilsome was this 
 ascent; for though the main road was still 
 beneath our feet, so perfectly had its fabricators 
 set the rules of their art at defiance, that it 
 ran sheer and abrupt, with scarce a trifling 
 deflection, from the base to the summit. The 
 sun, also, beat upon us with a power which we 
 found it extremely uncomfortable to sustain, 
 and our thirst was excessive. And here it 
 may, perhaps, be worth while for the benefit 
 of other pedestrians, to remark, that we began 
 our march, in reference to the victualling 
 department, on an utterly erroneous principle. 
 Breakfasting at half past five or six o'clock in 
 the morning, we made up our minds not to eat 
 a solid meal again till our day's work should be 
 
 C 2 
 
■*f 
 
 28 
 
 ADVICE TO PEDESTRIANS. 
 
 accomplished ; in other words, to content our- 
 selves at noon with some slight refreshment, 
 such as a morsel of bread, or a sandwich and a 
 little weak brandy and water, swallowed in the 
 shade of some grove, and to sup heartily when 
 we should come in to our night's quarters, at 
 six or seven o'clock in the evening. The 
 experience of this day sufficed to convince me 
 that in arranging this plan I had not been so 
 •successful as the Duke of Wellington used to 
 he with his commissariat. Our bread had 
 become hard and mouldy. Our brandy was as 
 hot as fire, and we could not find a spring of 
 water sufficiently sheltered to cool it. For 
 consistency-sake, however, we twisted down a 
 few mouthfuls, but we could not manage more ; 
 and it was unanimously voted, that thenceforth 
 an hour's halt at mid-day in some house of call, 
 would be an arrangement alike conducive to 
 the refreshment of our limbs, and the well- 
 being of our stomaclis. 
 
 Having reposed about half an hour by the 
 margin of a weedy pond, from which a loud 
 if not an harmonious concert of bull-frogs 
 unceasingly issued, we buckled on our knap- 
 
 ■ .4! 
 
 VIEW FROM STEIN JENA. 
 
 29 
 
 sacks once more, and, by a desperate effi^rt, 
 reached Stein Jena about three o'clock in the 
 afternoon. It seldom happens that a natural 
 scene, of which you have been led to form high 
 expectations, does not disappoint you; yet I 
 am bound injustice to acknowledge that in the 
 account which he gave of the view from this 
 point, the interesting curate of AuflTenberg used 
 the language of moderation. Elevated to a 
 height of perhaps two thousand feet, we beheld 
 across the valley beneath us, hill above hill 
 arise, — all of them pyramidal, shaggy with 
 forests of pine, beech, and oak, and interlaced 
 one with another, so as to form the wildest yet 
 most graceful combinations. The scene, too, 
 was in one striking respect different from any 
 on which we had yet gazed ; namely, that cul- 
 tivation was almost entirely kept out of view, 
 because our position was sucli as to throw the 
 depths of the plain behind the screen of their 
 overhanging mountains. It was, indeed, only 
 when we looked to the right, where on a level 
 with ourselves fields of rye were waving, that 
 the fact of our not having wandered into some 
 uncleared and uninhabited region was demon- 
 strated. 
 
30 
 
 VIEW FROM STEIN JENA. 
 
 Stein Jena itself is a large, straggling, but 
 remarkably neat village, of which the street is 
 on both sides shaded by rows of trees, and 
 where the houses can in many instances boast 
 of being planted within the range of well-kept 
 and tasteful gardens. It was on the top of the 
 common beyond the village, however, that we 
 paused to obtain our view, and to make one of 
 those rude sketches which in such situations 
 the most unpractised hand is induced to 
 attempt • after which we again pushed forward. 
 Ten minutes' walk carried us over the ridge, 
 and then what a spectacle burst upon us ! A 
 huge plain was at our feet, green with the most 
 abundant crops of grass and corn, and here and 
 there broken in upon by a tall conical hill, 
 which rose like a thing of art, and stood alone 
 in the level. Surrounding the plain on all 
 sides, were ranges of mountains, those near at 
 hand resembling in their general character the 
 graceful hills upon which we had just turned 
 our backs, — those in the distance more preci- 
 pitous and rugged, and above all, white along 
 their summits with snow. There needed, in 
 short, but some sheet of water, — a lake or a 
 
 REACH HAYDE. 
 
 31 
 
 river winding through the valley, to complete 
 such a picture as Stanfield would love to copy, 
 and the humbler but not less enthusiastic wor- 
 shipper of nature, gaze upon for hours un- 
 wearied. For not only was there wood and 
 pasturage, hill and dale, rock and forest, in 
 abundance, — ^but the haunts of man, without 
 which a cultivated scene is always incomplete, 
 rose there in abundance. There lay Hayde, — a 
 compact and apparently well-built town ; about 
 three miles to the right of it, and nestling back 
 its ovm cliffs, was Burgstein ; while farther off 
 Gabel, Reichstadt, with a countless number of 
 villages besides, told of the busy hands by which 
 these fair fields were tilled and kept in order. 
 Heartily thanking our poetical friend for the 
 instructions which he had communicated to us, 
 and charmed out of all sense of fatigue for the 
 moment, we continued our march, till the 
 shelter of a vast wood received us, at once 
 shutting out the glories of the panorama 
 beneath, and screening us from the sun's rays, 
 which had for some time back beat with incon- 
 venient violence upon us from above. 
 
 It was six o'clok when we reached the inn 
 
32 
 
 UNGEACIOUS RECEPTION 
 
 AT HAYDE. 
 
 83 
 
 ! 
 
 at Hayde, faint, hungry, and foot-sore. Our 
 reception was not very cordial, nor did we 
 this time, I am sorry to say, succeed in per- 
 fectly thawing the ice in which the landlady 
 had encased herself; but we took her bad 
 humour patiently, showed her that we were 
 well disposed to be merry, and obtained in five 
 minutes, first a very tolerable apartment, and 
 by-and-by the best room in the house. Per- 
 haps, indeed, it may be as well to state, that 
 our first reception, even in Bohemia, was not 
 always flattering. Yet somehow or another, it 
 invariably came to pass, with the solitary ex- 
 ception of Hayde, where our usual tactics 
 failed us, that before we had been ten minutes 
 under the roof of a Bohemian innkeeper, not 
 only he, but his whole household, were at our 
 devotion. Neither was any marvellous art 
 required to bring this result about. We acted 
 merely as persons of common sense will 
 always act in similar situations. We turned 
 the landlady's ill-humour or stiffness into a 
 joke, spoke bad German, mixed it with French 
 and English, and won her heart by showing 
 that we were neither sensitive nor fastidious. 
 
 s 
 
 And the landlady's heart being fairly won, 
 all the rest was easy. The husband, as in duty 
 bound, fell into his wife's views, and the 
 servants took their cue from their superiors. 
 In Hayde, however, though we so far gained 
 our end, that a good supper with a comfortable 
 apartment were afforded us, we have no right 
 to boast of our progress in the hostess's affec- 
 tions. She kept cruelly aloof from us during 
 the whole of our sojourn, and made us pay at 
 our departure just twice as much as, for similar 
 fare, we were charged at any other gasthof ii^ 
 Bohemia. 
 
 c 3 
 
34 
 
 ENVIEONS OF HAYDE. 
 
 ■36 
 
 ! 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 OUR LANDLADY AND WASHERWOMAN. — THE EINSIEDLER- 
 STEIN. ITS DUNGEONS AND UALL. ITS HISTORY.— IN- 
 SCRIPTION OVER THE hermit's GRAVE. LOSE OUR WAY. 
 
 GUIDED BY A PEASANT.— HIS CONVERSATION. MIS- 
 TAKEN FOR ITALIAN MUSICIANS. GABEL. 
 
 Hayde, which is a burgh town, having its 
 burgomaster and other civic authorities, con- 
 tains a population of between two and three 
 thousand souls, and can boast of a large ware- 
 house, or handlung, in which are exhibited and 
 sold the mirrors and other articles in glass that 
 -are fabricated at Burgstein. Like most Ger- 
 man towns of the same size which I have 
 visited, it is exceedingly clean, and its environs 
 are laid out with a good deal of taste. For 
 the Germans, while in winter they shut them- 
 selves up in their houses, all the doors and 
 windows of which are kept hermetically sealed, 
 seem to live, during the summer months, only 
 in the open air. Gardens are, therefore, their 
 delight,— public gardens, where such things 
 
 exist, — in which the men may smoke and 
 drink their beer, the women sip their coffee, 
 in society; or failing this, slips of soil, close 
 to the highway side, from which they are 
 separated only by a low railing, — so that the 
 owners may behold from their open summer- 
 houses every object that shall pass and repass. 
 And truly it is a pleasant sight to see an entire 
 population made happy by means so simple and 
 so innocent. For of excesses the Bohemians 
 are seldom, if ever, guilty. The men smoke 
 incessantly, it is true, and some of them con- 
 sume in the course of a holyday a tolerably 
 large allowance of beer. But the beer is either 
 very weak, or their heads are accustomed to it ; 
 for it is as rare to behold a Bohemian peasant 
 drunk at a merrymaking or fete, as it is to find, 
 under similar circumstances, an Englishman of 
 the same class sober. 
 
 After adjusting our toilet, and giving some 
 linen to be washed, with the distinct under- 
 standing that the articles so disposed of should 
 be restored at seven o'clock next morning, 
 we first ate our supper, and then strolled 
 out. The graveyard, removed, as is usually the 
 
 'n 
 
86 
 
 ENVIRONS OF HAYDE. 
 
 case in this country, some little way out of 
 town, attracted our attention, and was admired 
 for the extreme neatness with which it was 
 planted and otherwise kept. From the top of 
 an eminence behind the inn, likewise, we ob- 
 tained a view of the surrounding country, which 
 we should have pronounced fine, had we not 
 previously looked down upon it from Stein 
 Jena ; and a public garden, as yet " alone in 
 its glory," was traversed. But we were too 
 much fatigued to attempt more. We returned, 
 therefore, to our apartment ; went to bed with 
 the sun, and slept soundly till half-past six 
 o'clock on the following morning. 
 
 Lovers' vows, it is said, are like pie-crusts, 
 made to be broken. So I am sure are the 
 promises of Bohemian washerwomen ; at least 
 our linen, which ought to have made its ap- 
 pearance at seven, did not arrive till nearly 
 four hours afterwards, and we were compelled 
 to prolong our halt accordingly. At last, how- 
 ever, the slender, but to us invaluable cargo, 
 made its appearance, though still so imper- 
 fectly arranged, that the stockings, being quite 
 wet, we were obliged to sling outside our 
 
 BURGSTEIN. 
 
 37 
 
 knapsacks, while the damp shirts were left to 
 dry, as they best might, within. But the pre- 
 cious time which our dilatory laundress had 
 wasted, nothing could recall. We therefore 
 felt ourselves under the necessity of confining 
 our day's operations to the inspection of a 
 hermitage, or einsiedlerstein, near Burgstein, 
 with what was described to -us as a short and 
 pleasant walk afterwards, as far as Gabel. 
 
 We quitted Ilayde without regret; and 
 though still foot-sore with yesterday's travel, 
 contrived to reach Burgstein, which is about 
 three English miles distant, between twelve 
 and one o'clock. It is an inconsiderable vil- 
 lage, prettily situated under the felsen, or crags, 
 from which it derives its name ; and can boast 
 of its schloss, the residence of Graff Kinsky, as 
 vet a child. Like other buildings of the kind 
 which w^e had passed in our tour, the schloss 
 at Burgstein resembles a manufactory much 
 more than a nobleman's palace ; for it stands 
 close to the high road, is roofed over with 
 flaring red tiles, and shows in its dazzling white 
 front a prodigious number of small windows. 
 Connected with it by an avenue of umbrageous 
 
K- fii 
 
 38 
 
 BURGSTEIN. 
 
 THE EINSIEDLERSTEIN. 
 
 39 
 
 planes, which overshadow, perhaps, a couple 
 of hundred yards of road to the rear, is the 
 mausoleum of the late count, — a most ungrace- 
 ful pile, evidently constructed after the model 
 of an English dove-cot, and like the schloss, 
 shining in all the splendour of white walls and 
 a scarlet covering. But from such objects the 
 traveller soon turns his eyes away, that he may 
 fix them on the bold and isolated crag, the 
 summit of which is crowned by what he natu- 
 rally mistakes for masonry ; but which, on a 
 more minute inspection, he discovers to be, for 
 the most part, the rock itself There stands 
 what is now described as the Einsiedlerstein, — 
 that is, the stony dwelling of the hermit; a 
 grievous misnomer surely, — for though the last 
 occupant of that dwelling was doubtless a 
 recluse, its original purpose, which for many 
 ages it served, was that of a strong-hold, or 
 castle. And perhaps nowhere, even in Ger- 
 many, can a more perfect specimen be pointed 
 out of the sort of nest which used, in the dark 
 ages of feuds and forays, to shelter the robber- 
 knights and barons, to whom forays were at 
 once a business and a pastime. 
 
 The Einsiedlerstein, or Hermit's Rock, is a 
 bold and isolated crag, which rises sheer and 
 abrupt out of the plain to the height of, perhaps, 
 one hundred and fifty feet. It is separated 
 from the fells, or rugged hills, which form the 
 northern boundary of the wide vale of Hayde, 
 by a space of about two or three hundred yards ; 
 sufficiently wide to place it, in the days of cross- 
 bows and balistas, pretty well beyond the reach 
 of insult, but by far too narrow to be of the 
 slightest avail against cannon, and even mus- 
 ketry. In the face of the rock a staircase is 
 cut, by which you ascend to a door, of which 
 the key is kept at a cottage close by, where 
 dwells also your cicerone, or guide. The door 
 being opened, you see before you a continuation 
 of the rockv staircase ; with this difference in 
 character, however, between what is passed and 
 what is to come, — that whereas you mounted 
 to the threshold under the canopy of heaven, 
 you now move onwards, or rather upwards, 
 through a cavity cut in the face of the solid 
 stone itself By-and-bye you come to a land- 
 ing-place, beyond which, at the extremity of a 
 narrow passage, you behold what used to be 
 
40 
 
 THE DUNGEON. 
 
 the armoury of the castle, — an arched hall, 
 chiselled out, like the gallery which leads to it, 
 from the rock. Here are yet the grooves and 
 niches within which warriors, long since dead, 
 used to suspend their spears and battle-axes, 
 their helmets and coats of mail ; and here, in 
 the face of the stone, are chiselled out some 
 armorial bearings ; probably the devices worn 
 by the lord of the castle on his shield. We 
 find a tiger couchant, for example, not ungrace- 
 fully executed ; a gate or portcullis, I believe 
 in heraldry an honourable device; with the 
 fragments of what have evidently been other 
 symbols, though time has laid on them his 
 defacing fingers so effectually that you cannot 
 trace them out. 
 
 From the armoury you proceed round a cur- 
 vature in the rock, which conducts you into 
 the open air, and gives you a view of the oppo- 
 site fells, to the dungeon, — a melancholy place, 
 bearing to this hour numberless records of the 
 sufferings and the patience, and even the inge- 
 nuity, of those by whom, in old times, it was 
 tenanted. The late Count Kinsky, the pro- 
 prietor of the castle, caused a breach to be 
 
 THE DUNGEON. 
 
 41 
 
 made in the side of the dungeon, which you 
 now enter through an arched passage in the 
 rock, though originally the captive was let down 
 by a rope from above. This arrangement has 
 the two-fold effect of admitting an increase of 
 light into the den, and of affording a ready 
 means of access to such as might scruple to 
 descend, collier-fashion, in a basket. Having 
 passed beneath the arch, you find yourself in a 
 circular cell some twentv feet or more beneath 
 the surface of the earth, and girdled in by walls 
 of solid rock, out of which the hole must, with 
 infinite labour, have been chiselled. These 
 walls are everywhere scratched over with re- 
 presentations of wounded hearts, crucifixes, 
 death's-heads, and even of flowers with broken 
 stems ; all of them clearly enough of very old 
 fabrication, though unfortunately none of them 
 dated. How many gallant spirits have here 
 pined and fretted themselves into eternity; how 
 many noble minds and sinewy arms have long 
 confinement and scanty fare, bowed down to 
 this damp floor and withered. What a record 
 of misery and wrong would not these walls give 
 forth, were they for one little hour gifted with 
 
42 
 
 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 BURGSTEIN. 
 
 43 
 
 If 
 
 t 
 
 
 the power of speech, like the talking woods in 
 the fairy tale. And yet, evil as the times were, 
 when might, not right, was in the ascendant, 
 they had their redeeming excellencies too. 
 Knightly honour, chivalrous abhorrence of guile, 
 the soul to endure, as well as the temper to 
 inflict ; these were the qualities most prized by 
 men, who, born and bred to lives of constant 
 warfare, held danger light, and looked upon 
 peace as inglorious. And then their religious 
 feith ! It might be gloomy, it might be wild, 
 it might be altogether misplaced or misdirected, 
 —but it was at least sincere ; for it exerted an 
 influence over their most wayward humours; 
 it urged them both to do and to suffer as none 
 but men who believed that they acted aright 
 would have done. Let us not, tlien, even 
 when standing in the dungeon of a baron's 
 hold, come to the conclusion, that what we 
 call the dark ages were ages of unmitigated 
 wrong. They might produce their tyrants and 
 oppressors, whose power, in proportion as it was 
 resistless, would spread misery around ; but 
 they produced also their vindicators of the 
 oppressed ; their Bayards and Lancelots, cheval' 
 
 Hers sans peur et sa7is reproche, — of whose spirit 
 of candour, and fair and open and honourable 
 dealing, it might be well if this our intellec- 
 tual and utilitarian age had inherited even a 
 portion. 
 
 It will scarcely be expected that I am to 
 conduct my reader through all the crannies 
 and recesses of the Einsiedlerstein. Sufficient 
 for both our purposes it will be to observe, that 
 everything is in the most perfect state of pre- 
 servation, and that he who is desirous of obtain- 
 ing a tolerably accurate notion of the sort of 
 style in which the barons of the thirteenth and 
 fourteenth centuries used to live, may find it 
 worth his while to make a journey even as far 
 as Burgstein. Here is the chapel, entire as when 
 last the solemn mass was sung for the spirit of 
 some departed hero. There it is, hollowed out 
 of the rock, with its chancel and its transept, 
 while near it are lodging-rooms of various kinds; 
 and underneath vaulted stables capable of con- 
 taining perhaps twenty horses. The well, too, 
 that essential ingredient in a strong-hold, still 
 remains, though now it is dry ; and on the back 
 of the kitchen fire-place the soot and smoke of 
 
 ll 
 
/ 
 
 44 
 
 HISTORY OF THE BURGSTEIN. 
 
 HISTORY OF THE BURGSTEIN. 
 
 45 
 
 If 
 
 i( 
 
 II 
 
 other times have left their traces. The only 
 innovations effected, indeed, in the original 
 arrangements of the castle, are those which the 
 hermit began ; and which the father of the 
 present lord, the Count Kinsky, of whom I 
 have already spoken, has completed. 
 
 The history of the Burgstein, as far as I have 
 been able to trace it, is this. The name being 
 a combination of the words birke and stein, sig- 
 nifies the birchy-rock, an appellation which 
 both now and in remote times, would appear to 
 have justly belonged to it, for its crest is over- 
 grown with birch trees, one at least of which is 
 as fine a specimen of the plant as it w^ould be 
 easy to discover either in Bohemia or elsewhere. 
 Its bold and isolated character seems to have 
 pointed it out as a fit situation for one of those 
 keeps or strong-holds in which even monarchs 
 WTre, during the middle ages, glad at times to 
 seek refuge, and which constituted the ground- 
 work of their power to chiefs of less elevated 
 rank. So early as the year 1250, a castle 
 accordingly was erected on it, in which the 
 Baron von Ronow, a nobleman of vast influ- 
 ence, held his court, and frequently entertained 
 
 the King of Bohemia himself, Wentzel I. By 
 the caprice of his grandson, however, it passed 
 into the hands of the Knights Templars, who 
 established there one of their chief colleges, 
 and, according to tradition, enacted many and 
 horrid rites, such as tended not a little to hurry 
 on the ruin of their order. When that cata- 
 strophe befel them, the sovereign seems to have 
 restored his prize to a noble of the same lineage 
 with him wdio willed it away, so that down to 
 the year 1515, we find it in the possession of a 
 long line of Placek von Lippa und Berksteins. 
 But heirs male at length failed, and the heiress 
 marrying a Baron Kollowart, the lordship of 
 this noble keep was transferred to a new line, 
 which transmitted it from father to son in unin- 
 terrupted succession, down to the year 1670. 
 To them succeeded, somehow or another, a race 
 of Von Rokortzowas, who again in 1710, made 
 way for the house of Kinsky, and in their pos- 
 session it has ever since remained, neglected, 
 indeed, till of late, but holding time and decay 
 alike at defiance. 
 
 Old chroniclers tell of many a lordly festival 
 having Ijeen celebrated within its walls. Re- 
 
 \' 
 
I' 
 
 u 
 
 s - 
 
 ( 
 
 1 1 
 
 46 
 
 HISTORY OF THE BURGSTEIN. 
 
 peatedly, too, it has withstood and repelled the 
 attacks of an enemy, once when an army of not 
 less than fifteen thousand men sat down before 
 it, and a second time, when pressed by thirteen 
 thousand. But the invention of gunpowder, 
 and still more eiBfectually the changes in men's 
 manners Avhich followed the discovery of print- 
 ing, slowly robbed it of its importance, till at 
 last it was deserted by its owners, who transfer- 
 red their residence to the more commodious, 
 but far less picturesque mansion which they still 
 continue to inhabit. Then began a new race of 
 tenants to occupy the rock, in giving accommo- 
 dation to whom the Graffs Kinsky doubtless 
 believed that they were benefiting their own 
 souls, and doing their Maker laudable service. 
 
 Towards the close of the seventeenth cen- 
 tury, while the lordship of the manor yet re- 
 mained in the hands of the Kokortzowas, a 
 bouerman, or small landed proprietor, distin- 
 guished in the circle for his skill in agriculture, 
 suddenly took it into his head to become a 
 hermit, and fixed on the deserted rock as his 
 place of residence. The grafinn— for a female 
 seems then to have exercised the authority of 
 
 BECOMES A HERMITAGE, 
 
 47 
 
 count, gave immediate attention to his wishes ; 
 and fitted up, at her own cost, such a cell as 
 the pious bouerman described. There, for some 
 years, dwelt Brother Constantine, telling his 
 beads at stated periods, both by day and night, 
 and living abundantly on the alms which the 
 pious of all classes bestowed upon him. At 
 his decease, an enthusiastic miller stepped for- 
 ward to fill the vacancy, and Brother Wentzel, 
 so long as the sands of life continued to run, 
 was, to the good people of Birkstein, and the 
 districts around, all that Brother Constantine 
 had been. To him, in 1720, succeeded Brother 
 Antony, or rather two brothers, Antony and 
 Jacob, who dwelt in cheerful community one 
 with another, praying before the same altar, and 
 conversing during the hours of relaxation, but, 
 in strict propriety, occupying separate cells in 
 the rock. In 1735, however, Jacob died, when 
 one Samuel Gorner, a modelist, and perspec- 
 tive maker, took his place. Some ingenious 
 representations of Mount Calvary and the Holy 
 Sepulchre, executed in wood by the hands of 
 Brother Samuel, still remain, and are exhibited 
 to the stranger with becoming pride. And last 
 
iiil 
 
 
 m 
 
 ! 
 i 
 
 n 
 
 i 5 
 
 ilj' 
 
 I' 
 f ■ 
 
 i 
 
 in 
 
 r 
 
 i t 
 I. . 
 
 I) 
 
 48 
 
 THE LAST HERMIT. 
 
 THE HERIVIIT'S GRAVE. 
 
 49 
 
 of all came a weaver, liight Miiller, who at the 
 age of twenty-two, devoted himself to a life of 
 seclusion, and dwelt apart upon the rock up to 
 the year 1785. At that time, the strong arm of 
 power was stretched out, and hermits, as well 
 as many communities of monks, disappeared. 
 Yet Joseph, who seems to have been conscien- 
 tiously attached to his calling and place of 
 abode, was not driven into exile. Being ap- 
 pointed parish-clerk to the church of Birkstein, 
 he continued to hold the office several years ; 
 and dying at an advanced age was, by his own 
 desire, buried in a grave which he had dug out 
 for himself in one of the cells on the rock- 
 Such are the circumstances which have contri- 
 buted to cast into the shade the ancient and 
 warlike name of this curious piece of architec- 
 ture, and to describe as a hermit's cell, what 
 was, in point of fact, one of the strongest 
 among the many and strong baronial castles 
 with which Bohemia abounds. 
 
 The hermits have not sat in the seats of 
 armed men so long, without leaving numerous 
 traces of their sojourn behind them. Three or 
 four caves are hollowed out in the rock, one of 
 
 
 which contains a skull, a rosary, and a narrow 
 stone bedstead, overlaid with moss. In another, 
 besides the usual ornaments, such as crucifixes, 
 &c., we found an image of Brother Antony 
 Miiller, arrayed in his brown robe and hood, 
 with beads, a long gray beard, and bare feet, 
 just as he is stated to have exhibited himself in 
 the land of the living. A third cave, or cell, 
 contains a representation of the same hermit's 
 dead body, as it lay in state,— for to the rock 
 the corpse was carried both for exhibition and 
 interment ; and finally, we have his grave, — a 
 small heap of stones, with a stone cross erected 
 over them, and an epitaph inscribed on the 
 rock at his feet. I subjoin the original, and 
 give, for the benefit of such as may not be 
 acquainted with the German, a loose trans- 
 lation. 
 
 Du hallst den Tod fiir deinen feind, 
 
 Du irrst ; er ist dein bestest Freund : 
 
 Er ummt dir alle leibln ab 
 
 Und legt dicb sanft in's stillegrab. 
 
 Befreit dicb von dir falschen wilt 
 
 Und wenn es dir niir selbst gef allt 
 
 So fiihst er dich in bimmel ein 
 
 Sag wellcber Freund kaun besser seyn. 
 
 VOL. II. O 
 
 i.. 
 
} 
 
 90 CURIOUS PIECE 
 
 Thou boldest death thy foe to be. 
 No foe, but best of friends, is he. 
 He lifts the evil from thy lot. 
 Lays thee where sorrow reacheth not. 
 From the false world he sets the free, 
 And if the progress pleaseth thee. 
 Guides thee to regions of the blest ; 
 Of friends, then, is he not the best? 
 
 There remains one apartment more, which 
 it would be unjustifiable in me to omit par- 
 ticularly to notice, inasmuch as it holds a high 
 place in the estimation of the good people of 
 Burgstein, and will, if it serve no other purpose, 
 force a smile from such young, — aye, and old 
 persons, too, — as may happen to inspect it. 
 An ingenious mechanic, a workman in the 
 looking-glass manufactory hard by, has con- 
 structed a piece of mechanism, in which all the 
 known occupations, trades, and professions, in 
 the world, are described. His machine occu- 
 pies four galleries that surround an apartment 
 built on purpose to receive it ; and in the midst 
 is an elevated platform, on which the spectators 
 take their stand. At first they see only a rude 
 representation of mountains and forests, gar- 
 dens, fallow fields, standing crops, cows, milk- 
 
 OF MECHANISM. 
 
 61 
 
 f 
 
 I i 
 
 i 
 
 maids, mills and millers, ploughs, ploughmen, 
 oxen, cities, soldiers, horses, carriages, mines 
 and miners, convents, monks, hermits, &c., — all 
 in a state of quiescence. The pulling of a few 
 strings, however, gives a totally novel aspect to 
 the face of affairs. Inanimate objects continue, 
 of course, at rest; but no sooner is the clock- 
 work set a-going, than music sounds, soldiers 
 march, carriages rattle about, ploughs travel, 
 miners dig, mills go round, monks toll bells, 
 hermits read and nod their heads, milkmaids 
 ply their occupation visibly and effectively 
 before your eyes, — aye, and the very bird- 
 catcher pops out and in from behind his screen, 
 while a rustic having caught a schoolboy in his 
 apple-tree, applies his rod to the young thief s 
 seat of honour, with all the regularity of a 
 drummer beating time. I defy the gravest 
 person living to abstain from laughter, when 
 this universal bustle begins; for no human 
 being appears to be idle, and no single act 
 seems to be performed in vain. 
 
 The Graffs Kinsky seem, for some years 
 back, to have paid a good deal of attention to 
 this noble relic of old times. The late count 
 
 D 2 
 
LOSE OUR WAY. 
 
 53 
 
 52 
 
 NEW BUILDINGS. 
 
 began a chapel, I think in questionable taste, 
 of which the walls now cover the venerable 
 and vaulted cavity, where knights and barons 
 used to worship long ago. He built, likewise, 
 a sort of summer-house hard by, — of which 
 the flooring, red roof, and whitewashed walls, 
 agree but indifferently with the time-worn 
 bearing of the castle itself. But though he has 
 added these excrescences, and erected a sort of 
 platform in front of the last, whence he and 
 his friends might enjoy, at their pleasure, a 
 view of the surrounding country, he has taken 
 nothing away; and the public are much in- 
 debted to him, and to his successor, for the 
 liberality with which they are admitted to 
 behold one of the most curious specimens of 
 baronial architecture, which is anywhere to be 
 found. 
 
 Nearly two hours having been spent in 
 examining the different objects just described, 
 we began to feel that food and drink would be 
 acceptable ; and our guide, — a civil woman,— 
 having assured us that both were to be procured 
 in the cottage below, to it we adjourned. The 
 bill of fare, however, consisted merely of brown 
 
 bread,— sour, as all German brown bread is, 
 and made of rye, — of butter and beer. Nobody 
 has a right to complain who has at his disposal 
 a competent supply of good brown bread and 
 butter ; but to our unpractised palates, the rye- 
 meal, and sour leaven, were not very inviting. 
 Still we set to work, and aided by a cat, and a 
 fine bold fellow of a dunghill cock, both of 
 whom took post beside us, and insisted on 
 sharing our meal, we made a pretty considerable 
 inroad into the good woman's vivres, whose 
 butter and beer were both of them excellent. 
 This, with a rest of half an hour, made us feel 
 up to our work ; so we disbursed our groschen 
 or two, strapped on our packs, and pursued our 
 
 journey. 
 
 Gabel was our point, towards which from 
 Hayde a good chaussee i-uns ; but we had no 
 disposition to retrace our steps to Hayde,— so, 
 trusting in part to the map, in part to the 
 directions which our good-natured hostess gave 
 us, we struck across the country at a venture. 
 Probably we did not commit a greater number 
 of blunders than any other persons similarly 
 circumstanced would have done, but the way 
 
'I 
 
 III 
 
 I' ' 
 
 ill 
 
 64 
 
 LEIPSIGE. 
 
 seemed at once intricate and interminable. I 
 doubt, indeed, whether we should have suc- 
 ceeded in reaching our destination at all, had 
 we not, by good fortune, overtaken in the heart 
 of a wood an honest countiyman, who was 
 journeying towards his home in the fair village 
 of Leipsige, and volunteered to be so far our 
 guide. We found him intelligent enough on 
 his own topic of agriculture, and well inclined 
 to communicate to us his family history; but 
 he knew nothing about either Peter of Prague, 
 or the gypsies, and had never seen either Na- 
 poleon or his troops. We were, therefore, 
 forced to take his guidance on his own terms, 
 and had to thank him for probably some errors 
 shunned, and a good deal of anxiety avoided. 
 
 Leipsige, — our friend's place of abode, — is a 
 long straggling dorf, which extends, I should 
 conceive, a full mile and a-half, along a val- 
 ley between the two steep green banks that 
 mark out the course of a pretty little stream. 
 There is a bleach-field in it, and a manufactory 
 of linen thread, neither of which we delayed to 
 examine; for the day was wearing on, and, 
 beautiful as the scenery was through which we 
 
 \« 
 
 91 
 
 TAKEN FOR ITALIAN MUSICIANS. 
 
 65 
 
 had to pass, we were desirous of reaching our 
 halting-place as soon as possible. At last, 
 about six in the evening, after traversing several 
 deep forests, and crossing one or two hills, we 
 beheld before us what seemed to be a town of 
 some size, with a large church built in the 
 Italian style, one schloss or palace just outside 
 the suburbs,— and another, much more imposing 
 both in its architecture and situation, some 
 three-quarters of a mile removed. Concluding 
 that this must be Gabel, we made towards it; 
 though, in order to avoid disappointment, we 
 questioned a well-dressed man whom we over- 
 took, and received from him a satisfactory 
 answer. Our informant, however, was not 
 content to give information only, — ^he desired 
 to obtain some also. What were we? We 
 did not belong to the country, that was certain; 
 what were we? Italian musicians? Now really 
 I had no conception that in this thoroughly 
 English, or rather Scottish countenance, of 
 mine, there had been so much as one line 
 which could induce even a Bohemian to mistake 
 me for an Italian, and I felt proportionably 
 flattered, more particularly as in attributing to 
 
 I- ; 
 
 ii ' 
 
i = il 
 
 il 
 
 56 
 
 REACH GABHX. 
 
 liii 
 
 mil 
 
 me the qualifications of a musician, he paid as 
 high a compliment to my tastes as his first 
 mistake paid to my features. We made a very 
 low obeisance, and assured him that we were 
 neither Italians nor musicians. What then? 
 Were we stocking-weavers; and did our load 
 consist of stockings? This was too much for 
 our gravity; for the transition appeared to us 
 as complete as could well be, so we laughed 
 heartily. But when we told him the truth, 
 that we were English gentlemen, walking for 
 our own amusement, and desiring to make the 
 acquaintance of his countrymen, his manner 
 became more polite and obliging than ever. 
 He directed us where to find the best accom- 
 modations, offered to conduct us to the hotel 
 in person, and would hardly be persuaded that 
 such service was unnecessary. We then parted, 
 we pushing on at a brisk rate for Gabel, and 
 he, as we ascertained by an occasional sly peep 
 to the rear, standing on an eminence that he 
 might stare, as long as possible, after objects 
 
 such as had never met his gaze before, a 
 
 couple of Englishmen. 
 
 j^ 
 
 57 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 GENERAL APPEARANCE OF THE PLACE.— THE INN.— LUDI- 
 CROUS MISTAKES.— THE PUBLIC ROOM.— ASTONISHMENT 
 
 OF THE PEOPLE AT THE SIGHT OF ENGLISHMEN. THE 
 
 PRIESTS. SCENE IN THE TAP-ROOM. KINDNESS OP 
 
 THE PEOPLE. OUR FISHING OPERATIONS. A CHASSE^ 
 
 AND A DAYLIGHT BALL. 
 
 Gabel, though a place of some extent, and 
 containing a population of three or four thou- 
 sand souls, possesses no corporate rights. On 
 the contrary, it is subject to the jurisdiction of 
 a noble, whose schloss stands, as I have stated 
 above, close to the suburbs, where it is encircled 
 by a wider space of green than attaches to the 
 dwellings of the Bohemian nobility in general. 
 There is no manufactory in the place, but a 
 great deal of spinning and weaving, — occupa- 
 tions which the people pursue in their own 
 houses ; and the streets, with the exception of 
 the market-place, and another which leads from 
 the market-place to the church, are narrow and 
 steep. 
 
 D 3 
 
 \ 
 
til 
 
 h 
 
 iliil 
 
 Hi 
 
 U\ 
 
 68 
 
 A MISTAKE. 
 
 We had no difficulty in discovering the inn, 
 to which our informant outside the town had 
 directed us; and we made for it accordingly. 
 The exterior was promising enough ; for it had 
 a wide front, many windows, and considerable 
 elevation ; so we passed beneath the archway, 
 nothing doubting, and looked round for a door- 
 One on the left stood open, and seeing a stair- 
 case before us, we ascended, but soon stopped 
 short when on the landing-place we beheld 
 some men in huge cocked hats, feathers, and 
 swords ; while others, in more peaceable attire, 
 were bearing under their arms a parcel of 
 uniforms. " We have mistaken our ground," 
 «aid I to my companion ; " this must be a bar- 
 rack, or else there is a regiment marching 
 through the town, and these apartments are 
 assigned to them as quarters." Accordingly we 
 hurried back again ; and seeing another door, 
 exactly opposite to that which we had first 
 essayed, we pushed it open. We were right 
 this time ; for on traversing a narrow passage, 
 we found ourselves in the hall or kitchen. 
 
 The hall or kitchen of a third or fourth-rate 
 German inn, may not, perhaps, be familiar to 
 
 I 
 
 KITCHEN OF A GERMAN INN. 
 
 59 
 
 some of ray readers; so I will describe it. 
 Imagine, then, an apartment thirty or forty 
 feet long by twenty wide, and perhaps ten or 
 twelve in height. Four or five windows front 
 you as you enter, beside which are arranged, in 
 the old style of our English coffee-rooms, as 
 many deal tables, with benches ranged along 
 three sides of each, and a few chairs covering 
 the other. These leave about half the width 
 of the room free ; a portion of which is, how- 
 ever, engrossed by a large temporary closet, 
 while the stove, in the present instance a very 
 capacious machine of the sort, occupies as much 
 more. For there is no visible fire-place any 
 where, and all the cooking that goes forward is 
 conducted at the stove,— -or, as the Germans 
 appropriately call it, the oven. Then, again, 
 there is a bench fastened to the side of the 
 oven, where in winter, the wet, and cold, and 
 weary may rest ; while finally, at the head of 
 the apartment is a small table, whereon the 
 landlady, almost always one of the inmates of 
 the hall, plies her needle-work and eats her 
 meals. 
 
 The hall or coffee-room, when we first looked 
 
I 
 
 1^, 
 
 Pi J 
 
 II 
 
 m 
 
 it 
 
 60 
 
 KINDNESS OF THE LANDLADY. 
 
 in, was well nigh empty. One woman, whom 
 we now discovered to be our hostess, was, in- 
 deed, sewing at her own table, while another 
 seemed busy in the pantry, but of guests there 
 were only three, — two, manifestly travellers of 
 an humble class ; the third, who sat apart with 
 a large glass of beer before him, more deserving 
 of notice. His age might be about sixty. 
 His hair was grizzled; his face, and especially 
 his nose, large and rubicund, and his belly 
 portly. He wore a black frock and dingy white 
 neckcloth ; and he made no use of a pipe. All 
 this we noticed while advancing towards the 
 hostess, who, as usual, looked cold upon us for 
 an instant, and then became our sworn ally. 
 Indeed, I do not know that I am justified in 
 laying to that kind creature's charge even a 
 moment's ill-humour; for no sooner had I 
 asked her whether she spoke French or English, 
 than she clasped her hands together, and burst 
 into a laugh, after which her sole anxiety 
 seemed to be lest she should not succeed in 
 making us sufficiently comfortable. But in 
 that she was mistaken. A nicer quarter, in 
 spite of the total absence from it of all ap- 
 
 AN EXPLANATION. 
 
 61 
 
 preaches to elegance, I never desire to occupy; 
 for all that might be wanting to our fastidious 
 tastes, the real and unaffected kindness of the 
 inmates more than made good. 
 
 An apartment was provided for us forth- 
 with ; water and other conveniences for dress- 
 ing were supplied, and supper was ordered. 
 Moreover we were given to understand that 
 the fierce-looking personages whose bearing had 
 impressed us with so much awe, never hurt 
 anybody; inasmuch as they were honest mecha- 
 nics, a tailor or two, with some musical weavers 
 who composed the town band. Their uniform, 
 it seems, is kept in a spare room in the Hern- 
 hause gasthof, and they were in the act of 
 equipping themselves for an evening's perform- 
 ance when we arrived. This was satisfactory 
 enough, because, with all my admiration for 
 the noble profession of arms, I cannot say that 
 I quite enjoy being thrust as a traveller into an 
 inn which happens to be thronged with some 
 hundreds of soldiers on the march ; but it was 
 not the only treat that awaited us. My toilet 
 was as yet incomplete, when in walked the 
 landlady, first to demand whether I could speak 
 
>J% 
 
 u 
 
 'i \ 
 
 I 
 
 II 
 
 62 
 
 THE PARISH PRIEST. 
 
 Latin, and, on my answering in the affirmative, 
 to announce that the priest of the parish was 
 below in the hall, and should be glad to con- 
 verse with me. I desired her to inform the 
 reverend gentleman that I should make all the 
 haste I could to equip myself; after which I 
 would wait upon him with great pleasure. 
 
 Having accomplished the necessar)' changes 
 in my apparel, and otherwise made myself com- 
 fortable, I descended the stairs, and found that 
 the gentleman with the red nose and grizzly 
 head, w^as none other than the priest who 
 desired to make my acquaintance. Neither 
 his appearance nor his situation, — a conspicu- 
 ous place in a pot-house, which all the idle and 
 beer-loving members of the community seemed 
 to frequent, — at all prepossessed me in his 
 favour ; but I took care to exhibit no symp- 
 toms of disgust in my manner, and our conver- 
 sation began. His reverence spoke horrid 
 Latin, of course ; mine, from long disuse, was 
 probably not much better ; but as I pronounced 
 all my words according to the accentuation of 
 my schoolboy days, we at least understood one- 
 another. I found him full of curiosity, and 
 
 CURIOSITY OF THE PEOPLE. 
 
 63 
 
 wonderfully ill-informed, not only as to the 
 political and intellectual state of England, 
 but even in reference to its geographical situa- 
 tion. But his ignorance manifestly proceeded 
 rather from the lack of opportunity than of 
 the desire to be better informed ; for of his 
 questions I began to fear at last that there 
 would be no end. 
 
 By this time a whisper was circulating 
 through the town, that two Englishmen were 
 arrived, and as very few of the Gabelites had 
 ever seen an Englishman before, the coifee- 
 room became speedily crowded. Large was 
 then the consumption of beer, and dense and 
 dark the cloud of tobacco-smoke which circled 
 overhead. Yet, to do them justice, the curi- 
 osity of these simple people never once 
 prompted them to commit a breach, however 
 trifling, of real good manners. We were, 
 indeed, besought to eat our supper at the table 
 beside the priest, and we readily consented; 
 while by degrees all the vacant spaces were 
 filled up, by another priest, by several well- 
 dressed tradesmen, and, as. we afterwards ascer- 
 tained, by an officer of the Austrian army, who 
 
. ^-\ 
 
 h » 
 
 n 
 
 h. 
 
 M 
 
 if 
 
 64 
 
 SCENE IN 
 
 having retired from the service on a pension, 
 had married and settled in the town. But the 
 individual who interested us the most was the 
 post-master ; for whom, as he spoke both 
 English and French fluently, the padre de- 
 spatched a messenger, and whom we found not 
 only a most agreeable, but a very intelligent 
 and well-informed man. He had travelled 
 much as a merchant; had visited France, 
 Spain, Switzerland, Italy, and Russia; in the 
 last of which countries he had resided several 
 years as chief clerk to an English house at St. 
 Petersburg. 
 
 I do not know that I ever felt myself in a 
 situation more amusing, as well as more per- 
 fectly novel, than that which I now occupied. 
 The good people, indeed, seemed so eager to 
 obtain information, that I had few oppor- 
 tunities of adding to my own ; yet their curio- 
 sity, tinctured as it was, throughout, with the 
 most perfect good humour, and even polite- 
 ness, highly diverted me, and I did my best 
 to appease it. One circumstance, it is true, 
 affected me painfully. I allude to the discre- 
 ditable figure cut by the priests; who, it 
 
 THE TAP-ROOM. 
 
 65 
 
 appeared to me, had no business in such a 
 place at all, further, at least, than as casual 
 inquirers. Among all the beer-drinkers pre- 
 sent, however, my red-nosed acquaintance and 
 his curate were the most industrious. It was 
 quite edifying to see with what rapidity their 
 pitchers were emptied, and how sedulously 
 the hostess, — uninvited, though certainly un- 
 checked, — replenished them ; and when I add, 
 that each pitcher contained a good quart, the 
 amount of fermented liquor swallowed by these 
 thirsty souls may be guessed at. Nor, I 
 regret to add, was the tone of their conversa- 
 tion much out of keeping with their habits in 
 other respects. I inquired into the state of 
 morals in this place, and received, in bad 
 Latin, such an answer as I do not choose to 
 translate, and affected scarcely to understand. 
 
 Here then was a palpable illustration of the 
 axiom which has so often been laid down, — 
 that, of all the means that ever were devised to 
 degrade religion in the persons of its teachers, 
 the compulsory celibacy of the clergy is the 
 most effectual. In Hernskrietchen and Auf- 
 fenberg, it is very true, that no such lamentable 
 
 V 
 
.1 
 
 66 
 
 CELIBACY OP 
 
 THE ROMISH CLERGY. 
 
 67 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 ' '-{ 
 
 i' 
 
 results have followed ; but what then ? At 
 the former place a most deserving man is con- 
 demned to spend his days uncheered by any 
 of those domestic endearments the influence of 
 which is felt the most where it is most needed. 
 He does not complain, I admit; he* has too 
 much principle and even manliness to com* 
 plain of that which is irremediable. But who 
 can doubt that he feels his lot bitterly, or that 
 his pastoral duties would be discharged just as 
 faithfully, and far more cheerfully, were it 
 different? So also at the latter place: the 
 curate is yet a youth, full of that fire of enthu- 
 siastic self-devotion which, while it burns, more 
 than supplies the place of all social and do- 
 mestic relations. But how long will this last ? 
 And see how the system operates in Gabel, 
 aye, in hundreds and thousands of places 
 similarly circumstanced, where no such enthu- 
 siasm is at hand to counteract it. 
 
 Here are two clergymen, well stricken in 
 years, for the elder cannot be less than sixty, 
 and the younger but a few years short of it. 
 Their home, as they informed me, is in the 
 cloisters of the church; but such a home! 
 
 Nobody inhabits it who, except for mercenary 
 reasons, would shed one tear were they to die 
 to-morrow. Of books they possess but a slender 
 store, and were it otherwise, who can always 
 live among his books ? Their professional voca- 
 tions wear down their energies, and they stand 
 in need of relaxation. Where do they seek it? 
 Not in the quiet and happy circle of their own 
 families, — for they have none, nor among their 
 neighbours, who may esteem and respect, but 
 will scarce unbend before men who are become 
 masters of their most secret thoughts. They 
 therefore betake themselves to the pot-house, 
 and in drinking and ribald conversation, look 
 for that amusement which, under a better state 
 of things, the Reformed pastor is sure to find in 
 the bosom of his own family, and among his 
 friends. I do not mean to justify the indivi- 
 duals, who, on the contrary, deserve utter repro- 
 bation ; but surely a system which throws such 
 temptations in men's way cannot be seriously 
 defended by any one who has the interest of 
 religion at heart. 
 
 From the priests, as they began, under the 
 influence of repeated potations, to exhibit their 
 
I I 
 
 1 
 
 I 
 
 %' 
 
 im 
 
 «'! 
 
 68 
 
 THE POSTMASTER. 
 
 true character, I gladly turned away, and ad- 
 dressing myself to the postmaster, learned from 
 him, that the church was a collegiate charge, 
 that it had been burned down about forty years 
 ago, that the people, though poor, were con- 
 tented, and that he himself was but the suc- 
 cessor of his father, who had been postmaster 
 before him. We then began to converse about 
 the late war, upon which he informed me, that 
 Napoleon, on his retreat from Moscow, had 
 passed through Gabel, and breakfasted at the 
 post-house; that fifteen or twenty thousand 
 men occupied the town some time ; but that, 
 though there had been some skirmishes and 
 frequent alarms, no battle was fought in the 
 neighbourhood. Finally, he undertook to cor- 
 rect my route, which I showed him ; mentioned 
 one or two places as deserving of notice, which 
 were omitted from it ; and promised to accom- 
 pany us some way on the road to Oybin, the 
 point which he advised us to visit on the 
 
 morrow. 
 
 It was now getting late, and our supper and 
 usual allowance,— a bottle of light wine be- 
 tween us,— being finished, my companion and I 
 
 \, 
 
 u 
 
 1 1 
 
 a 
 
 
 4 
 
 \ . 
 
 OF THE TOWN. 
 
 69 
 
 rose to wish our friends good night. Numerous 
 hints were on this thrown out, that it was yet 
 early, and that we should be disturbed by the 
 bands of music, one of which was playing at the 
 inn door, another in a gentleman's house hard 
 by; but we would not attend to them. Having 
 strolled through the street once or twice in 
 order to free our lungs, in some measure, from 
 an atmosphere of tobacco, we retired to our 
 apartment, where, in clean and comfortable 
 beds, w^e slept soundly, till five o'clock next 
 morning. 
 
 Something had passed over-night between 
 the postmaster and myself which left an im- 
 pression on my mind that he had urged us to 
 stay and spend this day with him ; so, having 
 finished breakfast by seven o'clock, we left our 
 knapsacks, packed and ready, and strolled down 
 to the post-house. My imagination had, how- 
 ever, run wild, for no such agreement existed ; 
 so, after getting a few hints as to distances, 
 roads, and places of call, we returned to the inn. 
 Here, in the tap-room, were assembled host, 
 hostess, and maid, all of them unaffectedly 
 grieving at our threatened departure, and all 
 
70 
 
 FISHING TACKLE. 
 
 ready with cogent arguments, such as might 
 tempt us to halt at least one day longer among 
 them. Nor were these without their effect. 
 Mine host happening to inquire into the uses 
 of the instrument which, enveloped in a brown 
 linen case, I carried in my hand, I told him, and 
 he instantly assured me of as good a da,y's fish- 
 ing as old Isaac Walton himself need desire. 
 This was enough for me, whose piscatorial pro- 
 pensities threaten, I am afraid, to be as enduring 
 as those of Paley ; and laying aside our loads, 
 which had already been buckled on, we restored 
 them to their places in the chamber. But the 
 astonishment of the innkeeper, aye, and of all 
 his household beside, when I exhibited to him 
 my rod, line, and book of flies, no language is 
 adequate to describe. Such things had never 
 come under their admiring gaze before, and their 
 shouts and exclamations were quite amusing. 
 It would have been cruel, after all this, not to 
 give them a specimen of the style in which we 
 insular anglers coax trout to their destruction ; 
 so having ordered supper to be ready at eight, 
 and sent a message to the postmaster that I 
 would be glad if he could come and take part 
 
 BOHEMIAN ANGLING. 
 
 71 
 
 r 
 
 
 of it with us, we sallied forth, under the con- 
 duct of our host, in search of the stream. 
 
 The first glance which we obtained of this 
 said stream sufficed to assure us that in the 
 gentle craft, the good people of Gabel were 
 altogether unpractised. There was no stream 
 at all, but a ditch, deep, here and there, and 
 dark enough, but measuring not more than two 
 feet across, and everywhere overhung with 
 bushes. They assured me that it was full of 
 fine trout, and I have no reason to doubt them. 
 But as I could not bring myself to adopt their 
 method of catching the said trout, namely, by 
 tying a cord to the end of a stick, and a hook, 
 with a miserable worm on its blade, to the end 
 of the string, my fishing this day amounted to 
 nothing. Yet the day was, on the whole, very 
 agreeably spent, as the following detail will 
 show. 
 
 Our host, a fine handsome man of perhaps 
 forty years of age, with a quick eye, and singu- 
 larly intelligent gestures, informed me, as we 
 set out from home, that I should find, at the 
 water's side, the same Austrian ofiicer who had 
 sat at our table over-night, " For he is a keen 
 
 s 
 
72 
 
 BOHEMIAN ANGLING. 
 
 sportsman," added he, " and having no other 
 employment, devotes almost all his mornings 
 either to angling or shooting." I was not sorry 
 to be told this, because I naturally concluded 
 that a stream which could afford amusement all 
 the summer over to one fisherman, so deter- 
 mined, would furnish me with sufficient sport 
 for a single day. My astonishment may, there- 
 fore, be conceived, when on stepping over, what 
 I mistook for a drain, our host pointed upwards, 
 and exclaimed, " Aye, there he is, hard at it. 
 He's an excellent fisherman, and would die, I 
 really believe, were the opportunity of angling 
 taken away from him." " Where is he?" cried 
 I ; " I don't see either a river or a fisherman." 
 " Don't see!" was the answer, " why he is there, 
 there at the bend in the stream." I followed 
 the direction of the speaker's finger with my 
 eye, and beheld, sure enough, a gentleman 
 seated comfortably on the long grass beside 
 some alder bushes, and smoking his pipe. 
 " You don't mean that the angler is there," 
 exclaimed I. '* Yes, I do though," replied mine 
 host, " and see, he has just got a bite." Sure 
 enough the sedentary sportsman put forth one 
 
 BOHEMIAN ANGLING. 
 
 73 
 
 of his hands just as these words were uttered, 
 and grasping the butt of a willow wand, seemed 
 to give it a slight hitch in the air ; but no re- 
 sults followed. It was quietly laid aside again, 
 and the smoking resumed. 
 
 I now turned round, and with a countenance 
 strongly expressive of horror, begged to be 
 informed if this were really the stream. I 
 received an answer in the affirmative, the solem- 
 nity of which was too much, first, for the risible 
 faculties of my young companion, and then 
 for my own. We literally roared with laugh- 
 ter. But we checked ourselves as soon as pos- 
 sible, and having explained to our guide how 
 widely different were our notions of angling 
 from his, had the satisfaction to perceive that 
 no offence was given. We now joined the 
 Austrian officer, and found that he had caught 
 nothing ; a fortune which did not improve with 
 him during the two or three hours which we 
 loitered away in his company. 
 
 There was no fishing to be had, that was 
 clear enough ; but we had brought some bread 
 and butter and wine with us, in a contrary 
 expectation, and these we discussed. Of course 
 
 VOL. II. E 
 
74 
 
 THE AUSTRIAN OFFICER. 
 
 our brother sportsman joined us in this opera- 
 tion ; and we were not slow in discovering, that 
 though we had failed in finding trout, we had 
 stumbled upon an obliging and intelligent com- 
 panion. He had served in the campaigns of 
 1812, 13, and 14; was wounded at the battle 
 of Leipsig; passed a year or two in France 
 during the occupation of that country by the 
 Allies, and was therefore proud to say, had been 
 commanded by the Duke of Wellington. Since 
 the peace, he had spent a year or two at 
 Ancona with his regiment, but in consequence 
 of the rupture of a blood-vessel in his lungs, had 
 since been discharged upon a pension. Since re- 
 tiring from the service, he had married a woman 
 with some little property ; and now lived with 
 his father in Gabel, who held, under govern- 
 ment, a license for the sale of tobacco, and 
 farmed a small estate, to which our acquaint- 
 ance was the heir. 
 
 Our gallant friend, apparently chagrined that 
 we should have been disappointed in our fish- 
 ing, proposed a chasse. I stared again, re- 
 membering that it was the month of June, and 
 seeing fine crops of corn waving on all sides 
 
 THE CHURCH AT GABEL. 
 
 75 
 
 of me ; but as he appeared serious, I offered 
 no objection. We accordingly walked back to 
 the town; and while Mr. Madder, — so the 
 officer was called, — went home to dinner, I and 
 my companions strolled into the church. It is 
 large and commodious, and can boast of nume- 
 rous pictures, more to be admired for the excel- 
 lent intentions of the artists, than for the suc- 
 cess which has attended their efforts ; and the 
 view from the roof is beautiful. But, except in 
 the crypts below, where 
 
 Coffins stand round like open presses. 
 Showing the dead in their last dresses, 
 
 there was little either within or without the 
 pile deserving of notice. The crypt is, how- 
 ever, a fine one ; and the old monks and nobles 
 whom the sexton ruthlessly exposes to view, 
 look out upon you grimly enough from among 
 their blackened and decaying habiliments. 
 
 Having allowed Mr. Madder what we con- 
 ceived to be sufficient time for satisfying his 
 appetite, our host of the Hernhause proposed 
 that we should call upon him ; and we went 
 accordingly. A remarkably nice-looking old 
 lady, with two younger ones, received us, and 
 
 E 2 
 
76 
 
 SHOOTING. 
 
 A DAYLIGHT BALL. 
 
 77 
 
 il 
 
 were introduced to us by Mr. Madder as Lis 
 mother and sisters. Wine and coffee were then 
 produced, of which we were obliged to partake, 
 and a request was modestly urged, that we 
 would exhibit the wonderful fishing-tackle. 
 The whole apparatus was accordingly sent for 
 and displayed, quite as much to the edification 
 of the ladies, as to that of their brother, and 
 considerable progress was made in the good 
 opinion of one of them by a present of a cast- 
 ing-line and a couple of flies. 
 
 The tackle being put up, a double-barrelled 
 gun and shooting-pouch were handed to me, 
 the former furnished with a leathern sling, the 
 latter made of undressed deer-skin. I slung 
 them on, and Mr. Madder and the innkeeper 
 being equipped in a similar manner, away we 
 vtnarched. But such shooting! Never surely 
 in the annals of sporting has this day been 
 rivalled, unless, indeed, when some city appren- 
 tices escaped from the warehouse in Lad-lane, 
 have penetrated into the marshes beyond Hack- 
 ney, to wage war upon a solitary hedge-spar- 
 row. A dog we doubtless had, and he was 
 large enough for all useful purposes; for he 
 
 trotted through the rye with the composure of 
 an elephant, and did spring a partridge from her 
 nest. But the partridge happily escaped from 
 three well-loaded barrels, and we never saw 
 more either of her or her companions. Then 
 went we deep into the woods, following the 
 notes of the cuckoo and the ring-dove, only 
 that we might come forth again with hands 
 unstained by the blood of any such innocent 
 creatures. 
 
 I was very much amused with all this for a 
 while, but by degrees it began to grow tire- 
 some; and I proposed that, as the sun wore 
 towards the west, we should return home. My 
 wish was law, to my kind companions; and 
 homewards we turned our faces. But as we 
 drew towards a small house, about three or four 
 Endish miles from the town, the sounds of 
 
 o 
 
 music were heard, and we found, on approach- 
 ing, that it was filled with ladies and gentlemen 
 from Gabel, the younger portion of whom were 
 dancino: to the notes of a fiddle, a clarionet, and 
 a bassoon. It was our purpose to mix with the 
 people of Bohemia as much as possible; we 
 
f 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 78 
 
 A DAYLIGHT BALL. 
 
 therefore expressed a desire to stop short for a 
 minute or two, and to become spectators, if not 
 partners in the frolic. Again were our wishes 
 complied with cheerfully. We joined the 
 merry-making, were well and kindly received, 
 and laying aside our guns and pouches, danced 
 with such of the young ladies as happened to 
 be without partners. Nor did we get away 
 from this pleasant little broad-day ball without 
 doing some violence to the hospitable feelings 
 of its founders. 
 
 Dancing seems to be a passion with all 
 orders of people in Bohemia. The very cow- 
 herds dance on the high road, to the music of 
 their own voices, and the universal figure is the 
 waltz. Quadrilles and gallopades have, no 
 doubt, their worshippers among the higher 
 classes ; but among the lower, the waltz — most 
 truly called the German waltz, — seems to be all 
 in all. The party to which, for half-an-hour, 
 we attached ourselves, belonged to the middle 
 ranks, that is, to such middle ranks as even 
 Germany produces ; for there were present the 
 doctor and his wife, a wealthy brewer and his 
 
 A DAYLIGHT BALL. 
 
 79 
 
 family, with others of Gabel's magnates, and I 
 believe that I had the honour of dancing with 
 the brewer's daughter. 
 
 So passed one day at Gabel; to ourselves 
 most pleasantly, and if we might judge from 
 the manners of the people about us, not less 
 agreeably to them. The rest of our story at 
 this stage is told in few words. We returned 
 to the inn, changed our apparel, supped in our 
 own room, with Mr. Madder and the post- 
 master as our guests ; took of them, at ten 
 o'clock, an affectionate leave, and went to bed. 
 We were up next morning, and packed and 
 ready for marching, by six o'clock. 
 
i 
 
 80 
 
 LEAVE GABEL. 
 
 81 
 
 M 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 OUR LANDLORD BECOMES OITR GUIDE. — PECULIAR SCENERY 
 OF THIS PART OF BOHEMIA. — A VILLAGE BEER- HOUSE. 
 — TRAVELLING MECHANICS. — ACCOUNT OF THE TOR- 
 PINDAS. TOILSOME MARCH. — MARCIIOVIDES. ENTER- 
 TAINMENT THERE. 
 
 Up to this moment the elements had behaved 
 towards us with remarkable kindness. We 
 had, therefore, no right to complain, however 
 deeply we might lament the circumstance, when, 
 on drawing up the window-blinds, we ascer- 
 tained that the rain was falling in torrents ; and 
 we felt that we must needs face it. We there- 
 fore descended to the tap-room, after discussing 
 our cakes and coffee, and proceeded to bid our 
 landlady farewell. But neither she nor her 
 husband would permit us to budge an inch. 
 The rain could not last. Only wait an hour, 
 and the sky would be clear, when our host him- 
 self would be our guide, and put us in a way 
 of reaching Liebenau much more agreeably, as 
 well as with less fatigue, than if we followed 
 
 the high road. We could not resist this appeal, 
 
 so we sat still. 
 
 At length, about eight o'clock, though the 
 rain had not entirely ceased, the heavens looked 
 so bright that we expressed an earnest desire 
 to push forward. As no mercenary motives 
 had operated to produce the previous oppo- 
 sition of our hosts, so now such opposition was 
 at once withdrawn ; and the landlord, slinging 
 his gun and pouch over his shoulder, declared 
 himself at our command. We took leave of 
 the kind landlady, not without tears on her 
 side, and quitted Gabel, in all probability, for 
 ever. ' 
 
 We had been correctly warned as to the 
 probable duration of the storm. The rain,, 
 which fell in occasional showers when we first 
 set out, soon ceased entirely, and we had once 
 more a clear and cloudless sky, with a nice 
 cool breeze just sufficiently powerful to refresh 
 without incommoding us. Our walk, likewise, 
 was very interesting ; for, independently of the 
 extreme beauty of the scene, — hills and dales, 
 forests and cultivated fields, deep glens and 
 swelling table-lands, — we passed over ground 
 
 D 3 
 
 '^% 
 
; , 
 
 w 
 
 82 
 
 ENVIRONS OF GABEL. 
 
 CHEERFUL SCENE. 
 
 83 
 
 which had witnessed some sharp fighting during 
 the movements of the French army upon Dres- 
 den. The Allies, it appears, manoeuvred well 
 in this quarter ; for, by showing numerous ske- 
 letons of corps, they led Napoleon to imagine 
 that a large army of Austrians, Russians, and 
 Prussians was here; and, while he watched 
 them carefully, they had well-nigh cut him off 
 from his line of retreat. During these demon- 
 strations on both sides, foraging parties had 
 been sent out from Gabel, to sweep the neigh- 
 bouring villages. These our guide had seen, 
 and one of them he followed so as to become 
 eye-witness to an affair which it had near a 
 hamlet which we passed. He described the 
 scattering fire of the jagers, and the occasional 
 dashes of the hussars, with great animation, 
 though, according to his showing, this, like 
 other rencounters of the sort, cost more powder 
 
 than lives. 
 
 Having accompanied us at least two German 
 xniles, — that is, full ten miles according to our 
 English mode of computing distances, — the 
 landlord of the Hernhause stopped short, and 
 prepared to take his leave. We shook hands 
 
 warmly, and I thought I heard his voice quiver 
 when, in return for a cast of flies, he thanked 
 me. Nor must I permit it to be believed, that 
 the regrets were all on his side. I do not 
 know when my feelings have been more en- 
 gaged among strangers, than by the unaffected 
 kindness of the people of Gabel,— a kindness 
 on which we liad no right to calculate, however 
 much we might be justified in looking for 
 civility in return for our money. 
 
 Once more, then, the world was before us> 
 and seldom has it shone out beneath the gaze 
 of youth and inexperience more winningly than 
 it did under the influence of that delicious day. 
 The rain of the preceding night, and of the 
 early part of the morning, had given to herb 
 and tree a fresher and a fairer green. The fal- 
 lows wore no longer a parched-up and dust-like 
 hue, and the rivulets, swollen but not polluted, 
 retained their lucid character as they rolled 
 on their way. From brake and bush, from 
 grove and hedge-row, thousands of unseen cho- 
 risters filled the air with melody, and the very 
 oxen and horses, as they dragged their ploughs, 
 or toiled onwards with their wagons, seemed 
 
 I 
 
84 
 
 PECULIAR SCENERY 
 
 OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 85 
 
 I 
 
 to acknowledge the blessed influence which 
 other creatures felt. We sat beneath the shade 
 of a small plantation to enjoy the scene, and 
 then, with spirits unconsciously elevated, and 
 hearts not, I trust, insensible to the glories of 
 nature, and the goodness of nature's God, re- 
 sumed our pilgrimage. 
 
 Our route lay, throughout the whole of this 
 day's progress, through green fields, and over 
 narrow footpaths. Not so much as once were 
 we driven to the necessity of following the 
 high road; but taking our observations care- 
 fully, and bearing with wonderful exactness 
 from point to point, we had already arrived 
 within an hour's walk of Liebenau, before we 
 were aware. While compassing the space that 
 intervened between the village where our guide 
 quitted us and this, which had been marked 
 down as our resting-place for the night, we 
 passed many striking and beautiful landscapes, 
 such as I would willingly pause to describe, 
 w^ere human language capable of describing 
 them faithfully. Everywhere around us, bold 
 conical hills stood up, not a few of which bore 
 upon their summits the ruins of old castles. 
 
 while all were more or less clothed throughout 
 with noble forests. For the portion of Bohemia 
 which we were now crossing, may with perfect 
 truth be represented as a succession of glorious 
 valleys, overshadowed by not less glorious 
 mountains. The straths are all of them fertile 
 to an extraordinary degree, and as I have 
 already stated, both they and the hill-sides 
 abound with inhabitants. Yet is the country a 
 mountain district, in every sense of the word, 
 though the very mountains either are by nature, 
 or have by industry been rendered, uncommonly 
 
 fertile. 
 
 The great defect in Bohemian scenery, is the 
 
 absence of water. There is scarcely a lake in 
 
 the whole kingdom, and, with the exception of 
 
 two or three, such as the Elbe, the Iser, the 
 
 Bober, &c., the rivers hardly deserve to take 
 
 rank with the larger class of our mountaia 
 
 streams. Such a defect is sorely felt by him 
 
 who, looking down from the brow of a lofty 
 
 hill over a wide plain, beholds perfection in 
 
 every particular, except that there is no water 
 
 there ; and when from the narrower ravines you 
 
 miss the lochs and tarns, which give to Cum- 
 
'^-te' 
 
 il 
 
 86 
 
 A VILLAGE BEER-HOUSE. 
 
 berland and the Highlands of Scotland their 
 peculiar character, your disappointment scarcely 
 falls short of mortification. Perhaps, indeed, a 
 double motive may have operated with us to 
 produce this feeling. Our eyes pined, in the 
 first place, for the object on which, in such 
 situations, they had been accustomed at home 
 to repose; and secondly, our fishing-rods felt 
 like useless burdens in our hands. But it was 
 not destined to be so for ever, as I shall have 
 occasion, in the course of my narrative, to show. 
 We had walked well and stoutly, — the 
 sort of half-rest which we enjoyed the day 
 before giving fresh vigour to our limbs, — so 
 that between two and three o'clock we ventured 
 to calculate that Liebenau could not be far 
 distant. Hunger and thirst were, however, 
 beginning to be rather inconveniently felt ; and 
 as our calculations might after all be erroneous, 
 we judged it prudent to seek, in a little ale- 
 house by the way-side, such refreshment as 
 could be procured. Our hotel was of the very 
 humblest description; namely, the beer-house 
 of a small hamlet, and could furnish only brown 
 bread, cheese, butter, and beer. These, in the 
 
 i 
 
 
 TRAVELLING MECHANICS. 
 
 87 
 
 existing state of our appetites, went down 
 famously; and a pipe of good tobacco to wind 
 up withal, was not out of place. Neither was 
 even this unpretending house of call destitute 
 to us of subjects of interest. We found when 
 we entered the tap-room two young men asleep 
 on the benches, and a couple of large packs 
 lying beside them. They awoke shortly after- 
 wards, and proved to be, as we had expected, 
 journeymen mechanics. For in Germany a 
 custom universally prevails, that young men, 
 after serving their apprenticeship to the trade 
 which they intend to practise, go forth upon 
 their travels, and dispose of their wares, not 
 only in remote towns and villages of their 
 native state, but in foreign lands. Some of 
 these journeymen travel from Saxony, for ex- 
 ample, as far as Hamburg and Copenhagen. 
 Several make their way into France; and I 
 have even heard of them penetrating both the 
 wilds of Russia, and the classical and fair fields 
 of Italy. The consequence is, that they return 
 home with minds very much enlarged, and an 
 acquaintance, more or less accurate, not only 
 with the systems of commerce, but with the 
 
. ■# 
 
 in 
 
 w 
 
 :H! 
 
 Hi! 
 
 
 iillii 
 
 88 
 
 TRAVELLING MECHANICS. 
 
 A MENDICANT, 
 
 89 
 
 languages of foreign countries, and that a 
 stranger is surprised on entering a shop in 
 Dresden or Zittau, to find that French, and 
 perhaps Italian and English, are understood by 
 the tradesman who keeps it. 
 
 The young men whom we found in occupa- 
 tion of the tap-room were by trade cutlers. 
 Natives of some obscure town in Prussian 
 Silesia, of which I have forgotten the name, 
 they were w^andering about through Bohemia 
 with the intention by-and-by of proceeding into 
 Saxony, and so round by Berlin and Potsdam 
 to their homes. Their knapsacks, which they 
 hastened according to established usage to un- 
 buckle, contained a plentiful supply of knives, 
 forks, scissors, and razors ; but the poor fellows 
 were not successful in driving a bargain, for 
 their charges were exorbitantly high, and their 
 goods of an indifferent quality. Even the host 
 himself bid but one-half their demand, and 
 neither he nor w^e could bring the merchants 
 to our terms. 
 
 While we were haggling about an eighteen- 
 penny clasp knife, the door of the tap-room 
 opened, and there entered an old man, clothed 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 \ 
 
 in rags, with a wallet at his back and a long 
 piked° stick in his hand ; who, uncovering his 
 head, knelt down upon the floor, and began to 
 pray and cross himself with surprising volubi- 
 lity. My young companion gave him a piece 
 of money, which checked his devotions only 
 for a moment; for he merely looked at it, 
 nodded his head again, and resumed his mut- 
 tering with all possible eagerness. But at the 
 the Termination of, perhaps, five minutes, his 
 prayers seemed to have been told out,— for he 
 rose and with a loud voice pronounced a bene- 
 diction on the house and all that were in it. 
 This done, he turned about, and walked away. 
 
 The whole affair was to us so novel in its 
 character, that the questions which we put to 
 the landlord were put eagerly, but our eager- 
 ness proved to be uncalled for. " Story! God 
 bless you ! I have none to tell, Sir." What we 
 mistook for a striking incident, proved to be 
 an everyday occurrence in Bohemia, and our 
 imaginary palmer or devotee but a common 
 beo-o-ar. And now, having touched on the 
 subject, we proceeded to sound the depth of our 
 host's information on the subject of gypsies. 
 
90 
 
 ACCOUNT OF 
 
 THE TORPINDAS. 
 
 91 
 
 ^*l': ' 
 
 n 
 
 
 Where did they horde? how were we most 
 likely to fall in with one of their camps, and 
 w^hat sort of treatment might we expect to 
 receive at their hands ? It was with some dif- 
 ficulty that we could make the honest man 
 comprehend the object which we had in view ; 
 and when he did catch our meaning, his reply 
 was brief and pithy. " The people you speak 
 of we call Torpindas. They are an idle 
 worthless set of vagabonds. They have no 
 camps in Bohemia of which I ever heard,— 
 neither is Bohemia their home. They come 
 out of Hungary, and beg their way far and 
 near in the summer months; going about in 
 pairs or by threes, and sleeping at nights under 
 sheds, or on the floors of such tap-rooms as are 
 opened to them. I advise you to have as little 
 to say to them as possible. Avowedly, they 
 are mere beggars, but their hands are always 
 prompt for picking and stealing, and they are 
 said not to be over scrupulous in using their 
 knives." Here, then, if our informant spoke 
 correctly, was an end to one of the dreams 
 which had prompted our incursion into Bohe- 
 mia. But though we gave him full credit for 
 
 4 
 
 speaking what he believed to be the truth, we 
 took the liberty of questioning the accuracy of 
 his information, particularly in reference to the 
 more tremendous parts of it, — the hints touch- 
 ing the blood-thirsty propensities of the Tor- 
 pindas. For the Austrian police is a great 
 deal too vigilant to overlook, in any corner of 
 the empire, the commission of murder; at 
 least, the habitual perpetration of such a crime 
 by any class of persons so marked as the gyp- 
 sies. Though, therefore, we began to fear that 
 we might be pursuing a shadow, and that either 
 there were no gypsy camps to join, or that 
 the excitement of such an adventure would not 
 compensate for the desagremens attending it, 
 we did not at once lay aside our determina- 
 tion of making up to the first horde whom we 
 should meet, and striving to become their 
 guests for four-and-twenty hours, if not for 
 
 longer. 
 
 We had now rested our allotted period, so 
 we wished our companions good luck, and 
 resuming our march arrived in Liebenau about 
 half-past four o'clock. It is a clean, neat 
 town ; built along the side of a hill, and com- 
 

 92 
 
 JUGNIFICENT SCENERY 
 
 NEAR MARCHOVIDES. 
 
 93 
 
 M 
 
 ::f 
 
 manding a fine view, across the intervening 
 valley, of a bolder range than its own ; but of 
 its means of accommodating strangers I cannot 
 speak. For the day was yet so young, and we 
 felt so unusually fresh and vigorous, that, after 
 a brief consultation, it was agreed between us 
 to push on, if possible, some five or six miles 
 farther. We accordingly proceeded to the 
 post-ofiice; where, on consulting the head of 
 the department, we learned that about two 
 stunden,— that is, about six English miles 
 further, on the way to Hoen Elbe, was a place 
 called Marchovides, where we should find 
 excellent quarters for the night. This was 
 precisely the sort of intelligence which we could 
 have wished to receive, and we lost no time in 
 acting upon it. 
 
 Would that I possessed the power of bring- 
 ing before my reader's eye even a faint repre- 
 sentation of the magnificent scenery throuo-h 
 which this late march carried us. After climb- 
 ing with infinite toil a long and steep ridge, 
 by crossing which a prodigious detour was to 
 be saved, we gained a point whence, on one 
 hand, the eye could range over no inconsider- 
 
 able portion of Bohemia ; while on the other, 
 the snowy peaks of the Riesengebirgen bounded 
 the prospect, though still separated from us by 
 a wide breadth of highlands. Close at our 
 feet, on either side, were deep rich valleys, 
 highly cultivated as usual, and swarming with 
 villages ; while far away lay town and tower, 
 castle and convent, forest and green meadow, 
 mountain and ravine, producing by their com- 
 binations as glorious and diversified a panorama 
 as it has ever been my good fortune to behold. 
 And yet I am not sure that even this scene, 
 striking as it seemed to be, was not cast into 
 the shade, when, after dragging our weary limbs 
 across the hollow, and gaining the opposite 
 ridge, we opened out a prospect, narrower to 
 be sure, but far surpassing, in rugged grandeur, 
 any on which we had as yet gazed. Another 
 deep ravine lay beneath us, dark with the 
 forest which covered its base ; beyond which 
 uprose a chain of jagged and pine-clad rocks, 
 resembling in their forms the fragments of 
 some huge castle, or rather of an enormous city 
 of castles, shaken by an earthquake into ruins. 
 Even now I am not satisfied that among these 
 
94 
 
 MARCHOVIDES. 
 
 tall and beetling crags there were no remnants 
 of man's handiwork ; for the gloom of twilight 
 was upon them when I saw them first, and ere 
 I had ceased to gaze it had well nigh deepened 
 into night. 
 
 Extreme fatigue is a serious damper to 
 enthusiasm of any sort, and keen as our relish 
 of nature's more colossal forms might be, I am 
 not sure that we would not have exchanged, at 
 that moment, the view of these wonders, with 
 all the train of thoughts arising out of them, 
 for the interior of a snug room in a village inn, 
 and a mess of calves' flesh, with a bottle of 
 wine to drink after it. Of our village inn we 
 as yet, however, saw no symptoms ; and wearily 
 and slowly step followed step, without, as it 
 seemed, bringing us nearer to the object of our 
 wishes. At last, just as darkness had fairly set 
 in, we met, at the brow of a hill, a rustic, and 
 received from him the gratifying intelligence 
 that March ovides lay about a quarter of an 
 hour's walk distant, in the valley beyond. 
 "And the gasthof," cried we, "what sort of 
 a place is it ? Can we get supper, and beds, 
 and a bottle of wine ?" " Oh, yes," replied 
 
 MARCHOVIDES. 
 
 95 
 
 the countrjTnan, " it is a capital quarter. 
 Wine, and every other thing that is good, may 
 be had there for the asking." " This is as it 
 should be," said we one to another, while 
 recalling our energies for a final effort we 
 hitched our packs higher upon our shoulders, 
 and quickened our pace. 
 
 We had not walked far along the descent 
 when, through the thickening gloom, numerous 
 licrhts dancino- from cottage windows made us 
 aware that we were approaching Marchovides. 
 We made for one of the first of these dwellings, 
 inquired for the inn, had its situation accu- 
 rately described to us, and hurried towards it. 
 Tlie first impression made upon us by this 
 "excellent quarter," was far from favourable. 
 It served the two-fold purpose of a mill and a 
 gasthof; and whatever the comparative merits of 
 the mill might be, the gasthof department was 
 clearly not of the highest order. Before the 
 door stood a wagon, which the wagoner was 
 mending by the light of a lantern, while be- 
 neath the staircase a huge archway showed 
 itself, filled— as on a nearer inspection I, to 
 my horror, ascertained— with wagons also. 
 
96 
 
 OUR RECEPTION 
 
 "God help us," cried I, "we have travelled 
 far to reach a sorry resting-place; for I am 
 greatly deceived if this be not a house of call 
 for wains, the drivers of which will probably be 
 our companions both at bed and board." First 
 impressions are not, however, at all times to 
 be relied upon ; so we did our best to thrust 
 aside the unpleasant anticipations which were 
 beginning to crowd upon us, and recollecting 
 that there was no other alternative than either 
 to lodge here, or pass the night hungry and 
 cheerless in the open air, we put a bold face 
 on the matter, and entered. 
 
 We had calculated justly, for things were 
 not quite so bad as the apparition of the wagons 
 had led us to anticipate. The saloon, on the 
 threshold of which we stood, contained of living 
 creatures only one man, somewhat passed the 
 middle of life, who seemed to be in the act of 
 making his toilette; an old woman busily 
 engaged with her needle, three wenches, who 
 moved hither and thither, now poking about 
 the stove, now arranging dirty linen, apparently 
 for the wash-tub, and one or two children. 
 Tables and benches there were, as usual ; also 
 
 AT MARCHOVroES. 
 
 97 
 
 water-buckets, a few chairs, and a tub or two, 
 while a line drawn the whole length of the 
 apartment, about a foot and a half from the 
 roof, supported, in graceful disarray, a profusion 
 of coats, trousers, aprons, petticoats, and stock- 
 ings. To complete the picture, there were no 
 candles burning, not even a rosin taper ; but 
 here and there a piece of blazing bog-pine, either 
 stuck in some cranny, or borne about in the 
 hands of a domestic, cast over the scene a dark 
 red light. I dare say we should have been 
 delighted with all this, had we been assured of 
 obtaining an apartment, into which, when tired 
 of the sublime and beautiful, it might be com- 
 petent for us to retire ; but being quite uncer- 
 tain on that head, our first measure was to 
 question the sempstress touching both her 
 ability and inclination to accommodate us. 
 Never surely was the spirit of patient industry 
 more strikingly illustrated than in the per- 
 sonage whom we now addressed. Her needle 
 did not cease to hold its course one moment ; 
 scarcely, indeed, would she lift her eyes above 
 her spectacles ; while, in a tone by no means 
 conciliating, she informed us, that she had no 
 
 VOL. II. T? 
 
98 
 
 OUR RECEPTION 
 
 AT MARCHOVIDES. 
 
 99 
 
 t6 
 
 (C 
 
 « 
 
 cliamber, no flesh of any kind, no eggs, no 
 white bread, nor any other article which, in the 
 vanity of our souls, we had rashly named. 
 
 "Why they told me these were excellent 
 quarters !" said I, horrified out of the exercise 
 of my usual tactics. 
 
 « So they are !" was the answer ; " this is a 
 
 capital quarter." 
 
 " But you have no beds nor bed-rooms !" 
 
 " Oh yes, we have !" 
 Won't you give us one, then ?" 
 No, I won't !" 
 
 Why, my dear creature ? Depend upon it, 
 we will not run away with them." 
 
 " Very likely ; but we have none to give you 
 
 all the same." 
 
 This was a poser, and my companion and I 
 looked at one another with rueful countenances. 
 At length I resumed : — 
 
 « Your house seems to be a large one ; how 
 comes it that you have no sleeping accommo- 
 dation for your guests ?" 
 
 " This is a large apartment," interposed the 
 half-clad man from his distant table ; " we can 
 accommodate plenty of guests that axe not too 
 grand for us, here." 
 
 I 
 
 1 
 
 y 
 
 " Oho !" exclaimed I, " you can make up beds 
 for us on the floor. That will do well enough ; 
 and now for supper." 
 
 The facility with which I slid into their 
 peculiar views of comfortable sleeping accom- 
 modations seemed to have a very salutary effect 
 upon the tempers of our hosts; for the half- 
 clad man turned out to be the husband of the 
 sewing woman, as well as a person of consider- 
 able importance in his own neighbourhood. 
 The old lady discovered that there were some 
 eggs in the cupboard after all, and that cer- 
 tain slices of bacon remained from a stock 
 which had been laid in some time previously. 
 Moreover, the cellar contained some wine; 
 neither very strong nor very high flavoured, 
 certainly, but sound and wholesome, as we dis- 
 covered on trial, and more acceptable to our 
 palates than beer. To work, therefore, the 
 dame and her maidens went, and in half an 
 hour we saw before us, on a nice clean cloth, 
 and by the flame of a farthing rushlight, half a 
 dozen eggs, sundry lumps of pork, some rye- 
 bread and butter, and a flask of white wine. 
 They did not continue long in the order of their 
 
 . F 2 
 
 K 
 
100 
 
 OUR BEDS. 
 
 domestics' supper. 
 
 101 
 
 mtegrity. The eggs disappeared in a twinkling. 
 Several fierce inroads were made into tbe bread 
 and butter, and even the bacon suffered con- 
 siderably. As to the wine, it passed away like 
 water spilled upon the ground, which cannot 
 be gathered up again. But there was another 
 enemy pressing us sore, over and above hunger. 
 We had walked upwards of thirty English 
 miles, and my companion especially could 
 scarcely keep his eyes open,— a circumstance 
 -which was not slow in attracting the attention 
 of our now obliging hostess, and for which she 
 hastened to provide. Some trusses of good 
 clean straw were brought into the room and 
 spread upon the floor. Over these was laid a 
 sort of mattress, and the youngster, dressed as 
 he was, cast his knapsack down for a pillow, 
 and threw himself on the couch thus prepared 
 for him. In five minutes he was just as happy 
 as if he had rested on his own bed at Schan- 
 
 dau. 
 
 Meanwhile sundry persons, all of them young 
 
 men, entered the tap-room, and visions of wa- 
 goners snoring on the floor beside me began 
 again to haunt my imagination ; when, to my 
 
 ff\ 
 
 ) 
 
 great relief, I ascertained that these were " the 
 miller's men," who, having eaten their supper 
 with the female members of the family, would 
 withdraw to their nests in the cock-loft. And 
 truly this affair of the domestics' supper was 
 curious enough. Heaven knows what the mess 
 might be, which, being brought piping hot 
 from the oven, was planted down in a brown 
 stew-pan, right in the centre of one of the 
 tables ; but the appetites of the twelve persons 
 who forthwith gathered round it, spoon in 
 hand, appeared excellent. It was quite edify- 
 ing to behold the order, and silence, and regu- 
 larity with which, one after another, they 
 shovelled their respective portions into their 
 mouths ; and how patiently they endured the 
 intense heat, which, judging from the hissing 
 of the stew, must have accompanied each ladle- 
 ful. Finally, the dish being emptied, they rose 
 with one accord, and departed, the young men 
 to their mattresses, or, it may be, to their occu- 
 pations about the mill,— the young women to 
 fulfil what remained of their daily tasks. 
 
 While this was going on, the landlord and I 
 Avere keeping up an animated conversation, of 
 
102 
 
 A BOHEMIAN LANDLORD. 
 
 A BOHEMIAN LANDLORD. 
 
 103 
 
 ! I 
 
 which I remember nothing more than that it 
 turned chiefly upon the state of his own family 
 and affairs, and tended to impress me with be- 
 coming notions of his dignity. Indeed, I may 
 state, once for all, that the landlord of a Ger- 
 man inn, whether it be an hotel in a capital, or 
 like this at Marchovides, a beer-shop in a remote 
 village, is in his own eyes a person of very 
 considerable importance. While his wife, 
 poor soul, performs all the menial offices about 
 you, which the domestics either cannot, or are 
 not expected to perform, the host himself is 
 content to keep you in talk, which he not un- 
 frequently accomplishes by sitting down beside 
 you, and helping you to discuss your wine or 
 beer. Nor does it inflict the slightest wound 
 upon your dignity, whatever your station in life 
 may be, to fall in with his humours. If you 
 cut him short, you may miss the opportunity of 
 learning something which you could have 
 wished to learn, and you are sure to sufler from 
 the diminished attention which is shown to 
 you ever after. If you indulge him, you may 
 be bored for a while, it is true ; but you have 
 the satisfaction of reflecting, that you neither 
 
 wounded a private man's feelings, nor offered 
 wanton outrage to the customs of a commu- 
 nity. 
 
 Like my boy I was by this time getting tired 
 and sleepy ; and I cast sundry wishful glances 
 towards the heap of straw. The landlord 
 understood my situation, and hastened to assure 
 me that we should have the whole of the 
 chamber to ourselves, and that if I would lie 
 down, the place should be cleared for us in a 
 quarter of an hour. "For, to tell you the 
 truth," cried he, " we all sleep, my wife, and 
 I, and the children, and these wenches, in a 
 little chamber beyond ; the whole house, large 
 as you justly observed that it was, being occu- 
 pied, either as store-rooms for flour, or with the 
 machinery of the mill." I begged my friend 
 not to put his household to the smallest incon- 
 venience on my account, and lying down beside 
 my companion, closed my eyes. 
 
 I soon found, however, that sleep was out 
 of the question. The temperature of the apart- 
 ment could not be less than a hundred degrees, 
 and there were so many dim lights and strange 
 figures passing to and fro, that all my efforts to 
 
\\ 
 
 104 
 
 LUDICROUS SCENE. 
 
 abstract myself from them proved fruitless. 
 I therefore opened my eyes again, and lay to 
 observe the issue. In a short time landlord, 
 landlady, and children withdrew. Then fol- 
 lowed a sort of clearing-up of odds and ends 
 by the maidens, and last of all a washing of 
 feet and legs. This latter operation amused 
 me exceedingly, and I could not resist the 
 inclination which I felt of complimenting the 
 lasses on their fair proportions. But they did 
 not on that account lower their drapery a jot. 
 On the contrary they laughed heartily, and 
 chatted to me all the time their ablutions went 
 forward, and wished me a sound sleep as soon 
 as they were finished. As they carried with 
 them the last of the torches, their wish was, in 
 some measure, accomplished ; for my eyes, after 
 repeated efforts, closed of their own accord, 
 and were not opened again, except during 
 feverish and brief intervals, till five o'clock 
 next morning. 
 
 if 
 
 105 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 MARCH RENEWED.— SCENERY MORE AND MORE GRAND. 
 
 A POPULATION OF WEAVERS. — HOCHSTADT.— THE ISER. 
 
 MAGNIFICENT RIVER, AND CAPITAL TROUTING. 
 
 STARKENBACH. EXTREME KINDNESS OF THE INHABI- 
 TANTS. CARRIED TO THE CHANCELLOR'S HOUSE. 
 
 FISH THE ISER AGAIN. THE EFFECT OF MY SPORT ON 
 
 A RELIGIOUS PROCESSION. — SUPPER AT THE HIGH 
 
 bailiff's. GAME AT CHESS. TAKE LEAVE OF OUR 
 
 KIND HOSTS WITH MUTUAL REGRET. 
 
 Our toilet this morning was very speedily 
 completed. A dip of the whole head into a 
 basin of water, and a hasty and imperfect rinse 
 of the hands; these, with the application of 
 tooth-brush, hair-brush, and razor, to their re- 
 spective departments, put us in marching 
 order ; and coffee being served without delay, 
 by six we were e?i route, Hoen Elbe, not far 
 from the fountain of the mighty Elbe, was our 
 
 proposed point. But 
 
 The best laid schemes of mice and men, 
 Gang aft awry, 
 
 and Hoen Elbe we were destined never to 
 
 behold. 
 
 f3 
 
If 
 
 
 106 
 
 A POPULATION 
 
 Our road to-day led over a succession of 
 hills, each of which introduced us to scenery 
 more wild and rugged than before ; for each new 
 step was now bringing ns nearer and nearer 
 to the loftiest of the Riesengebirg range. Still 
 the population appeared not to diminish. The 
 villages, if poorer and meaner, were not less 
 frequent than ever, and each individual cottage 
 seemed to swarm with inmates. We were, 
 however, greatly struck with the squalid and 
 unhealthy appearance of these poor people. 
 Unlike our own mountaineers, the inhabitants 
 of the Bohemian hills seem to be a race 
 every w^ay inferior to the occupants of the 
 plain. The men are short, thin, and appa- 
 rently feeble, with pale cheeks and sickly 
 complexions. The women, over and above 
 these disadvantages, are almost all goitred, 
 and the children look like creatures born in 
 sin and brought up to misery. Probably all 
 this is owing as much to the sort of life which 
 these highlanders lead, as to the severity of their 
 climate. They are all either weavers, or spin- 
 ners and teazers of flax, except the very few 
 whose services are required in the cultivation 
 
 OF WEAVERS. 
 
 107 
 
 of a barren soil. Now, were you to shut up 
 even a hardy Argyleshire shepherd, in a heated 
 chamber, where he should be condemned to 
 breathe all day long foul air, abundantly mixed 
 with minute portions of flax and wool, you 
 would probably find, at the end of the year, 
 that he was not what he used to be ere he took 
 to spinning. I think, then, that I am right in 
 concluding that the mountaineers of Bohemia 
 would be like the mountaineers of Scotland, 
 were they similarly employed ; and I am quite 
 sure that a more revolting spectacle is not to 
 be seen anywhere than that which a mountain 
 district presents, of which the inhabitants are 
 chiefly weavers. 
 
 It is not, however, entirely to their devotion 
 to sedentary pursuits that we are justified in 
 attributing the squalid and unhealthy appear- 
 ance of these highlanders. They are all manu- 
 facturers on their own account. They do not 
 work for any master, nor receive, as a neces- 
 sary consequence, regular w^ages; but they 
 card the flax, spin the thread, weave the web, 
 and carry it to market, all at their own risk, 
 and in obedience to the spirit of speculation. 
 
108 
 
 NUMBER OF ROADS. 
 
 HOCHSTADT. 
 
 109 
 
 ,1 i 
 
 If the articles take, then are they well off for a 
 season ; if the contrary result ensue, they must 
 carry it home again, and sad, indeed, is their con- 
 dition. I need scarcely add, that it was by these 
 mountaineers, and their rivals on the Prussian 
 side of the Riesengebirg range, that the most 
 valuable of the German cotton aud linen goods 
 used to be produced ; and that, till within the 
 last quarter of a century, even our own manu- 
 facturers were quite unable to compete with 
 them. The case is now, however, widely dif- 
 ferent, and they feel and mourn the result 
 bitterly. Nor is it surprising that there should 
 be gendered among them a strong prejudice 
 against the English people. They carry this so 
 far, in many instances, as to believe that the 
 Bohemian and Silesian marks are forged by 
 the manufacturers of Manchester and Glasgow; 
 and that their goods are thrown back upon 
 their hands because an inferior article is palmed 
 off at the great fairs, and sold as if fabricated 
 by themselves. 
 
 When people lose their way in other coun- 
 tries, it is for the lack of roads. In Bohemia, 
 the multiplicity of roads is quite perplexing. 
 
 1 1 
 
 I am sure that we went this day a full league, 
 if not more, out of our way, from repeatedly 
 following the wrong path, and being as often 
 compelled to retrace our steps. Once, after 
 climbing to the ridge of a lofty mountain, we 
 learned, to our horror, that the road which we 
 ought to have pursued, ran in the very bottom 
 of the glen which we had quitted ; and twice 
 the good people's directions were given in a 
 language so barbarous, that we could make 
 nothing of them. But after a good deal of 
 fatigue, and no trifling share of enjoyment, we 
 reached, at twelve o'clock, the town of Hoch- 
 stadt, the place at which, as it was represented 
 to be only three hours' march from Hoen Elbe, 
 we had resolved to dine. We had timed our 
 arrival admirably ; for twelve o'clock is, in Ger- 
 many, the common hour of dinner ; and of the 
 fare which was served up in the neat little inn 
 towards which our steps were turned, we had 
 no right to complain. 
 
 Hochstadt, so named from the elevated 
 nature of its situation, stands on the summit 
 of a mountain, and is raised probably not less 
 than three thousand feet above the level of the 
 
110 
 
 THE ISER. 
 
 THK ISER. 
 
 Ill 
 
 :| 
 
 .1, 
 
 sea. It commands a magnificent moimtain 
 view, with a much larger scattering both of 
 vegetation and culture, than we had any right 
 to expect. Bleak it doubtless must be, in 
 winter, for just across the valley which dips 
 down from it on the west, are hills whose tops 
 retain their snowy coverings till August ; while 
 eastward is an immense plain, undulating here 
 and there, but scarcely broken by the wooded 
 cones that are scattered over it. But in the 
 month of June, when we beheld it, the land- 
 scape is exceedingly interesting, and the pro- 
 mise of an abundant harvest was bright. There 
 was nothing, however, either in the town or its 
 vicinity, to detain us longer than the space of 
 time that might be necessary to appease our 
 hunger and rest our limbs : so, between one and 
 two, we paid our bill, took our host's directions, 
 and departed. He told us that if we walked 
 well, we might reach the Iser in an hour and a 
 half, after which we could not be more than an 
 hour and a half removed from Hoen Elbe. 
 
 Who that has read Campbell's glorious bal- 
 lad of ffohenlinden, would not feel his imagina- 
 tion warmed by the thought of standing even 
 
 for an hour, on the banks of " Iser rolling 
 rapidly?" Who, likewise, that is acquainted 
 with Sir Humphry Davy's exquisite Consola- 
 tions, and has, as the amiable philosopher had, a 
 true relish for the gentle craft of angling, would 
 not begin to put his rod together as soon as 
 Iser's waters met his view ? For my own part, 
 I cannot undertake to say which principle 
 operated with me most powerfully,— whether 
 the romantic associations which Campbell's 
 muse must ever call up, or the more matter-of- 
 fact, but hardly less animated description, which 
 Sir Humphry gives of the capital sport which 
 he had in a stream of the same name ; but of 
 this fact I am quite certain, that the hopes of 
 discovering the river behind every eminence, or 
 coming suddenly upon it as I emerged from 
 each successive grove, served to render me, 
 during this hour and a half's progress, proof 
 a^xiinst the encroachments of weariness. And 
 my wishes were gratified at last. Just after we 
 had obtained a glimpse of what we knew to be 
 the iron foundry at Eisenhammer, we beheld roll- 
 ing his waters beneath us, the Iser himself, not 
 like the Elbe, in a troubled and dingy stream. 
 
112 
 
 EXCELLENT TROUTING. 
 
 EISENHAMMER. 
 
 113 
 
 . 
 
 ill 
 
 nor, after the fashion of most of its tributaries, 
 Tvith a mere thread of silver, but roaring and 
 chafing from pool to pool, or else gathered in a 
 black mass under some huge crag, as if inter- 
 vals of repose were necessary to the element 
 itself, and it could repose only in darkness. 
 And then when we cast our eyes along the 
 banks,— the sides of magnificent mountains,— 
 feathered from their bases with ancient forests, 
 out of which, from time to time, a bald rock 
 projected, truly we were forced to admit, that 
 to obtain this gratification alone, all our fatigues 
 had been well endured, and that here we might 
 stand still without repining. But there was 
 something more to be done than to admire the 
 fair river. Out came the fishing-rods from their 
 cases, down we hurried, loaded as we were, to 
 the river's brink, and flies being selected, such 
 as we judged would suit the state of the water, 
 we set to work. Our sport was admirable. 
 Not a trout rose under three-quarters of a 
 pound weight, and several fell little short of 
 three pounds, so that at the hour's end, all the 
 space which we ventured to allow ourselves, we 
 had laid in an ample stock of fresh fish for 
 supper. 
 
 I 
 
 There was no resisting the temptation to 
 which our excellent sport in the Iser had sub- 
 jected us. It was impossible to leave such a 
 stream behind ; so we made up our minds to a 
 halt at Eisenhammer for the night, and after 
 devoting the morrow exclusively to fishing, to 
 add the lost hour and a half to the march of 
 the day following. With this view we crossed 
 the bridge, and entered the sort of hamlet, 
 which consists merely of the foundry, and of a 
 long range of buildings, occupied partly by the 
 superintendents of the Avorks, partly as a gast- 
 hof. In this gasthof, however, no separate 
 chamber was to be had, and, though the reverse 
 of fastidious, we could not quite make up our 
 minds to spend a second night as we had done 
 a former one at Marchovides. But we were 
 happily relieved from the dilemma. One of 
 the gentlemen whose duty it is to direct the 
 workmen in the foundry, informed us that we 
 sliould find at Starkenbach, about an hour's 
 walk to the right, excellent accommodations, 
 and putting us under the guidance of two tra- 
 velling journeymen who were going that way, 
 expressed his hope tliat he would see us again 
 
 ,' 
 
114 
 
 ARRIVE AT STARKENBACH. 
 
 KINDNESS OF OUR RECEPTION. 
 
 115 
 
 on the morrow. To the civility and kindness of 
 that gentleman, we were much indebted both 
 then and afterwards, and I am glad, though he 
 may never be aware of the fact, thus publicly 
 to acknowledge my obligations to him. 
 
 We reached Starkenbach about six o'clock, 
 after a pleasant walk through green fields, and 
 made for what had been represented as the best 
 inn, a gasthof in the market-place. The land- 
 lady's manner was, as usual, somewhat repulsive 
 at first, but the cloud soon passed from her 
 brow. No sooner was it made known to her 
 that we were Englishmen, travelling for amuse- 
 ment, than she bestirred herself sedulously to 
 provide for our comforts ; and we soon found 
 ourselves in possession of a snug apartment, 
 with the prospect before us of a good supper at 
 the hour named by ourselves. But this was 
 not all. An Englishman had never been seen 
 in Starkenbach before, and as it had been at 
 Gabel, so it was here, — multitudes of all ranks 
 and classes flocked to obtain a glimpse of us. 
 Moreover, it soon appeared that they came with 
 more generous intentions than to gratify an idle 
 curiosity, however innocent in itself. The real 
 
 ^1 
 
 motive of one of them was, indeed, disguised 
 under an affected anxiety to discharge an irk- 
 some duty ; but the delicacy which prompted 
 him thus to throw a temporary shade over his 
 kindness, only enhanced the value of the kind- 
 ness itself in our eyes. 
 
 Our landlady had been all civility and atten- 
 tion. Not only were water and other means of 
 dressing supplied in abundance, but we had 
 some difficulty in persuading her that her pro- 
 posal to wash us from top to toe with her own 
 hands could not be acceded to. We were thus 
 in the midst of our ablutions when in walked 
 a well-dressed young man, who began by saying, 
 in Italian, that he understood we spoke that 
 language, and that he was desired by the land- 
 lord to ascertain whether our room was to our 
 liking. We assured him that it w^as, and ex- 
 pected, of course, that he would leave us free 
 to go on with our dressing operations; but 
 nothing of the sort took place. What were we ? 
 
 Endishmeu, he was aware ; but had we any 
 
 business, or did we come to dispose of any 
 goods ? We satisfied him on this head also, 
 npon which he retired for a moment, but soon 
 
116 
 
 THE CHANCELLOR. 
 
 WE GO TO HIS HOUSE. 
 
 117 
 
 returned again. There was a gentleman in the 
 next room, the head of the graffs chancery, 
 who spoke French, and would be glad to make 
 our acquaintance. We begged that he might 
 be introduced, and in he came, followed by 
 several others. 
 
 " You know. Messieurs," said he, " that we 
 are obliged in this country to act somewhat un- 
 civilly to strangers. You have, of course, a 
 passport ?" 
 
 I produced my passport at once ; it was the 
 only time I ever had occasion to show it in 
 this quarter of Bohemia; but I was imme- 
 diately taught by his manner of examining 
 it, that the question relative to passports was 
 a mere pretext on the part of the chancellor, 
 for opening with us a friendly conversation; 
 he contented himself by glancing hastily at 
 the signature of the Austrian minister, and 
 laid it down. And now began a discussion 
 which I was reluctantly forced to interrupt 
 by reminding him of the unfinished state of 
 my toilet, and by begging that he would have 
 the goodness to wait for a few minutes in 
 another apartment till it should be completed. 
 
 He withdrew at once, with numerous apologies, 
 and carried his train along with him. 
 
 So far we had good reason to be satisfied with 
 the reception that was awarded us in Starken- 
 bach ; but the kindness of its inhabitants was 
 far from stopping here. After loitering about 
 for a quarter of an hour, and receiving no re- 
 newed visit from the chancellor, we strolled 
 out, with the intention of taking a survey of 
 the environs while yet daylight lingered ; but 
 we had not proceeded far when our friend over- 
 took us, and offered to be our guide. Nor was 
 this all. In the most modest yet hospitable 
 manner imaginable, he said that he would feel 
 highly honoured and flattered if we would make 
 his house our home during our stay in Starken- 
 bach, and when we objected to his proposal on 
 the ground that such a proceeding would not be 
 fair towards the innkeeper, he assured us that 
 that point was settled already. In a word, 
 though he consented to be our guest at supper, 
 which having been actually cooked could not be 
 put aside, nothing short of the removal of our 
 knapsacks from the inn would satisfy him, and 
 we found ourselves in consequence, about ten 
 
118 THE chancellor's ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 o'clock at night, under the shadow of his hos- 
 pitable roof. 
 
 The habitation of which we had thus unex- 
 pectedly become the inmates, consisted of a 
 suite of apartments in one of the numerous 
 outbuildings attached to the schloss of GrafF 
 Horach, the lord of the manor. Though not 
 very commodious, it was both clean and com- 
 fortable ; and served to satisfy the wishes of its 
 occupant; whose family consisted only of a 
 young wife, and two female servants. For a 
 German of the class to which our friend be- 
 longs is not ambitious of living in a style above 
 either his means or his pretensions, and the 
 ideas of Germans, generally, relative to what is 
 essential to the comforts of home, are far more 
 humble than ours. This gentleman and his 
 bride, for example, (and a bride she might be 
 termed, having been married only half a year,) 
 were content to eat and sleep in the same 
 apartment, the elegance of which was little, if 
 at all, broken in upon by the couple of neat box 
 beds with silk coverings, which occupied one 
 of the comers. In like manner the chamber 
 which was assigned to us, at once more capa- 
 
 GENUINE HOSPITALITY. 
 
 119 
 
 cious and better furnished, led through theirs ; 
 a circumstance which not only appeared in no 
 wise to disturb or annoy them, but of which 
 they took advantage to press their good offices 
 upon us. For, as our host would hardly leave 
 us at night till we were ready to step into bed, 
 so, no sooner were we astir in the morning, than 
 in he came, anxious to know how we had rested, 
 as well as to offer his services in supplying any 
 want of which we might experience the pres- 
 sure. I really never saw, in any country, or 
 among any class of people, such incessant and 
 genuine hospitality. 
 
 We had barely time, over-night, to be intro- 
 duced to the lady of the mansion. In the 
 morning we met her at breakfast, and her first 
 act was to add her entreaties to those of her 
 husband, that we would not think of leaving 
 them that day. What need was there for so 
 much haste? We had been pleased with the 
 scenery of the Iser; why not visit it again? 
 Or if that were not agreeable to us, there were 
 various points in the immediate vicinity of the 
 town, which it might be worth our while to 
 inspect. We could not hold out against such 
 
i 
 
 120 
 
 FISH THE ISER AGAIN". 
 
 arguments, more especially as they happened to 
 accord exactly with our own wishes; so we 
 agreed to fish the Iser once more, and return to 
 sup and sleep at the chancellor's. 
 
 This point being settled to the satisfaction of 
 all the parties concerned, we proceeded to equip 
 ourselves in our travelling costume, and, rod in 
 hand, bent our steps towards Eisenhammer. 
 A more unpropitious day for the angler can 
 scarcely be imagined; for a cold east wind 
 blew, and from time to time a thin drizzling 
 rain beat in our faces. Still we determined to 
 make the attempt, and truly we had no cause to 
 repent of our resolution. In the course of four 
 hours, which we devoted to the sport, we caught 
 upwards of ten pounds of trout ; the number 
 of fish killed being at the same time only ele- 
 ven, — a clear proof that the Bohemian Iser de- 
 serves just as much praise as Sir Humphry Davy, 
 in his charming little book, has bestowed upon 
 its namesake near Munich. But killing the 
 trout constituted by no means the sole amuse- 
 ment which we that day enjoyed. An English 
 fishing-rod and English tackle were objects 
 quite as novel to the good folks of Eisenham- 
 
 f 
 
 
 TROUT FISHING. 
 
 121 
 
 h 
 
 mer, as they had been to the citizens of Gabel; 
 and the consequence was, that we had the 
 entire population of the village and hamlets 
 round, in our train. And the astonishment of 
 these simple people, first at the machinery, and 
 then at our mode of using it, I have no lan- 
 guage to describe. When first I hooked a 
 trout, there was a general rush to the river- 
 side, — the movement being produced, mani- 
 festly enough, by alarm lest the line should 
 break ; and though the animal was floundering 
 and springing about in twelve feet of water at 
 least, two or three young men could scarcely 
 be restrained from jumping in. But when they 
 saw the monster, and a very large fellow he 
 was, after running away with some fathoms of 
 line, and bending the rod like a willow-wand, 
 gradually lose his strength, and sail reluctantly 
 towards the shore, I really thought they would 
 have gone crazy with delight. They jumped 
 about, swore, and shouted like mad people, and 
 made such a plunge into the shallows, to bring 
 him out, that we had well-nigh lost him. The 
 scene was altogether quite irresistible. 
 
 There was no work performed that day in 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 G 
 
122 
 
 RELIGIOUS PROCESSION. 
 
 IRON FOUNDRY. 
 
 123 
 
 the iron foundry. Every soul belonging to it, 
 from the superintendent down to the errand- 
 boy, came forth to swell our train; and we 
 w^alked up the Iser, attended as never Highland 
 chief was, even in the good old times of herit- 
 able jurisdictions. Nor was this all. A religious 
 procession, that is to say, a numerous body of 
 peasants from some of the villages near, bound 
 on a pilgrimage to the shrine of St. James in 
 Starkenbach, happened to descend the hill just 
 as I was playing a fish, and the effect produced 
 upon them was quite as miraculous as could 
 have been brought about by the saint himself. 
 The sound of their psalmody ceased. The cru- 
 cifix was lowered, and man and woman, boy 
 and maiden, breaking loose from their ranks, 
 flocked down, en masse, to ascertain the cause 
 of so strange a phenomenon. I suspect that 
 St. James received but a scanty allowance of 
 worship that evening ; at least, I am sure that 
 the number of his votaries became sadly dimi- 
 nished; for when the chant rose again, and 
 the crucifix was uplifted as a signal for moving, 
 the retinue that attended it, came short by at 
 least one-half of that which had followed, with 
 
 . ! 
 
 1 
 
 all imaginable decorum, as far as the banks of 
 the Iser. 
 
 It was now getting on towards three o'clock, 
 and as the weather, instead of improving, be- 
 came every moment more boisterous, w^e deter- 
 mined to abandon our fishing. We accordingly 
 adjourned to the gasthof, where a roasted fowl 
 had been prepared for us, and made a hearty 
 dinner, in the midst of the same crowd w^hich 
 had watched our mode of operations on the 
 river. To them we were obliged to explain 
 the wliole process by which rods are unscrewed 
 and put together again, reels turned round, and 
 flies attached to casting lines ; and I dare say 
 that to this hour, they have not ceased to talk 
 about the whole aifair as an invention, second 
 in point of ingenuity, only to the steam-engine. 
 
 This done, we became, in our turn, the que- 
 rists. We begged to be conducted over the 
 foundry, and our wishes were immediately at- 
 tended to. It is on a small scale, but appa- 
 rently very complete, with one furnace and 
 numerous models ; and it was stated to supply 
 very many of the manufacturies both in Bo- 
 hemia and Austria Proper, with the iron-work 
 
 G 2 
 
 I 
 
124 
 
 VISIT TO THE PRIEST. 
 
 SUP WITH THE GRAND BAILIFF. 
 
 125 
 
 required for their macliinery. As to the ore 
 itself, that is found in abundance among the 
 hills hard by, and is said to be of excellent 
 quality. I need scarcely add, that, though they 
 have pit-coal at their command, they use only 
 coke and charcoal for smelting, because every- 
 body knows that for such purposes charcoal is 
 the most approved species of fuel. 
 
 We had had a capital day's sport, and the 
 rain having at length ceased, we turned our 
 faces towards Starkenbach. The fish, with 
 which we loaded a countryman, and conveyed 
 by his means to our host's dwelling, caused 
 almost as much astonishment there, as our mode 
 of catching them had occasioned at Eisenham- 
 mer. Not only our hosts, but their domestics, 
 ,and not they alone, but the people in the streets 
 as we passed, shouted and clapped their hands 
 at the spectacle. But the chancellor had other 
 and more agreeable occupation chalked out for 
 us, than listening to the exclamations of his 
 clients. He led us through the town, took us 
 to call upon the priest,— a respectable-looking 
 old man, who had expressed a wish to be 
 introduced to us,— and informed us that he had 
 ventured to accept in our name an invitation 
 
 from the grand bailiff, to sup in his apartments. 
 It may be necessary, perhaps, to add, that 
 the grand bailiff is the graff's representative, 
 who not only manages his private affairs, but 
 superintends the proceedings of the chancery, 
 and who is, therefore, in the absence of the 
 graff himself, by far the most important per- 
 sonage in the herschafte. 
 
 The grand bailiff's apartments, which formed 
 part of the schloss itself, were both large and 
 well furnished. There were no carpets on the 
 floors, of course, — the Germans make very little 
 use of carpets anywhere,— but his dining-room 
 was amply stocked with chairs, sofas, tables, 
 cabinets, and mirrors, and his cuisine, though 
 plain, was excellent. We were so fortunate, 
 moreover, as to meet at his table, not only the 
 whole of the chancery, but the commissary of 
 the circle, who happened to be going his rounds, 
 and who proved a very agreeable addition to 
 
 our party. 
 
 The supper was good, and the Hungarian 
 wine of excellent flavour. The attentions of 
 the bailiff and his lady were likewise unremit- 
 ting; indeed, the latter was almost too kind, 
 
II 
 
 126 
 
 GAME AT CHESS. 
 
 GAME AT CHESS. 
 
 127 
 
 * i 
 
 for she seemed anxious that we should eat of 
 every dish, and drink out of every flask and 
 bottle. We had a little music too,— for she 
 played the piano ; and the commissary, likewise 
 a performer, paid us the compliment to dash off 
 in very good style, " God save the King." But 
 the circumstance which amused me most of all 
 remains to be stated. I was asked if I played 
 chess ; and I replied in the affirmative, addmg, 
 however, as the facts of the case required, that 
 I ^-as no master of the game. Immediately a 
 petition was brought forward, that I would play 
 one game mth the bailiff. He had heard much 
 of the extraordinary skill of Englishmen in 
 this noble game, and being a little of an ama- 
 teur himself, it had long been his ambition to 
 measure his strength with that of an Islander. 
 Alas for my country! she had but a sorry cham- 
 pion to sustain her honour; for, if the truth 
 must be spoken, though I get very much in- 
 terested in chess after the game has fairly 
 begun, I always sit down to it as Dr. Johnson 
 says he did to Paradise Lost, as to a task. 
 And the consequence is, that, avoiding it 
 wherever I can, I have not yet entitled myself 
 
 to pass muster in the first class of bunglers. 
 But it would have been cruel to thwart the 
 hospitable bailiff in his humours, so to it we 
 fell. I don't think that he and his friends gave 
 me quite fair play. With one accord they 
 ranged themselves on the side of their country- 
 man, and, complimenting my adroitness all the 
 while, they assisted him in every difficulty with 
 their counsels. However, the result would 
 have been, I make no doubt, the same, had 
 they remained silent. I was soundly beaten, 
 and my worthy host rose up as much pleased 
 as if he had conquered a province. I learned 
 from the chancellor next day, that to have lost 
 the game would have seriously affected his 
 peace of mind. I am therefore heartily glad 
 that fortune declared in his favour. 
 
 My tale of Starkenbach is told. We re- 
 turned to the chancellor's to sleep, breakfasted 
 with him and his interesting young wife next 
 morning, and at seven o'clock took the road to 
 Troutenau, which he recommended as a good 
 halting-place. His last words at parting were, 
 " Nous sons beaucoup triste," and when I 
 added " Et nous aussi," I spoke but as I felt. 
 
I 
 
 rt 
 
 128 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE ELBE, A MOUNTAIN-STREAM.— WE FISH IT.— DINE ON 
 OUR FISH IN A VILLAGE INN.— THE YOUNG TORFINDA. 
 
 ARNAU. — THE STATUES IN THE MARKET-PLACE. — THE 
 
 FRANCISCAN CONVENT.— TROUTENAU.— THE WANDERING 
 MINSTRELS.— MARCH CONTINUED.— FISH THE RIVER.— 
 A VILLAGE INN, AND ACCOUNT OF THE TORPINDAS.— 
 OUR FIRST MEETING WITH THESE FORMIDABLE PEOPLE 
 IN A AVOOD.— ANOTHER PEDESTRIAN TOURIST.— ADERS- 
 PACH.— EXCELLENT QUARTERS. — MOST REMARKABLE 
 ROCKS. — THE MINSTRELS AGAIN. 
 
 Our journey towards Troutenaii was for a 
 while prolific in few events, with an account of 
 which it is worth while to entertain my reader. 
 In point of scenery, each new step that we 
 took introduced us to new and constantly 
 varying beauties ; but on that head I have said 
 as much, perhaps more, than was necessary. 
 For who, after all, can so describe nature's 
 handiwork, as to create in the mind of him who 
 has never looked upon the original, anything 
 like a correct idea of what it is? The painter 
 may indeed accomplish this, though even he 
 will accomplish it imperfectly; but the mere 
 
 I 
 
 THE ELBE, A MOUNTAIN STREAM. 
 
 129 
 
 narrator,— in good sooth, his words, however 
 appropriate, must ever fall comparatively dull 
 upon the ear, which is not the organ through 
 which to convey to the mind any notion, how- 
 ever incomplete, oi external scenery. When, 
 then, I have stated, that our path carried us 
 over hill and dale,— that we threaded deep 
 forests, and from time to time traversed an 
 open plain, and that all this while the snowy 
 ridges of the Riesengebirgen stood up like a wall 
 upon our left hand, I have left myself nothing 
 in the shape of description to add, out of which 
 the reader could hope to derive an accession, 
 either to his information or his amusement. 
 
 Of one occurrence that befel in the course 
 of this day's pilgrimage, it is, however, necessary 
 that I should take notice. At the distance of 
 perhaps ten English miles from Starkenbach, 
 we came upon the Elbe; how unlike to the 
 lordly river with which we formed our first 
 acquaintance at Hamburg, and which two 
 months' residence at Schandau had latterly 
 made so familiar to us! A narrow mountain- 
 stream, — so narrow, indeed, and so shallow, that 
 a mere rustic bridge sufficed to span it, — wa 
 
 G 3 
 
130 
 
 FISHING IN THE ELBE. 
 
 all that reminded us of that prodigious body of 
 water, which serves as a channel of communi- 
 cation between Dresden and the North Sea, 
 and fertilizes in its course the plains of Be 
 hernia, Saxony, Prussia, Mecklenburg, Hanover, 
 and even Denmark. The fact is, as I need 
 scarcely pause to state, that we were now but a 
 short day's march from its source, which lies, — 
 a mere fountain or well-head,— in the side of 
 the mountain that overhangs Hoen Elbe. As 
 our friend the chancellor had assured us, how- 
 ever, that at the well-head in question there 
 was really nothing to see, we determined to 
 leave it unexplored, and to push on, instead, as 
 far as Aderspach, where we were given to 
 understand that nature had accomplished many 
 freaks well deserving to be noted. 
 
 Though the Elbe was by no means so pro- 
 mising as the Iser, we yet felt that to pass it 
 by untried, while we had fishing-rods in our 
 hands, would be disgraceful to us as anglers. 
 The implements were accordingly screwed to- 
 gether, and for half-an-hour we threw our flies 
 with all our accustomed skill, and more than 
 our usual patience ; but we gathered little by 
 
 ti 
 
 DINE ON OUR FISH. 
 
 131 
 
 the exercise of these qualities. A few grayling, 
 with a trout or two of meagre dimensions, alone 
 rewarded our care; and these, we judiciously 
 concluded, were not of sufficient value to com- 
 pensate for the loss of time that would be sus- 
 tained in adding to their numbers. Besides 
 we found that our strange attire and gestures 
 created much alarm among the junior branches 
 of one or two small communities through 
 which we passed. The children, wherever we 
 came, ran from the water's edge screaming with 
 fright; a pretty broad hint that our company 
 was not desired, at least by them. 
 
 We dined this day in a clean tidy little ale- 
 house, the landlady of which cooked our trout, 
 and supplied us with bread and butter, and 
 beer. She was a member of what seemed to 
 be a remarkably happy, as well as primitive 
 family, where three generations dwelt together 
 in harmony; the oldest and the youngest being, 
 as she informed us, dependant on the exertions 
 of her husband, and the profits of the inn. 
 Neither were we without a trifling adventure, 
 such as it was. While we were smoking our 
 pipes after dinner, a gypsy, or Torpinda, en- 
 
132 
 
 A YOUNG TORriNDA. 
 
 A YOUNG TORPINDA. 
 
 133 
 
 tered, and we had him up to our table forth- 
 with, that we might reconnoitre and catechise 
 him. He was a mere lad, apparently not more 
 than sixteen or seventeen years of age, though 
 in costume, complexion, and expression of 
 countenance, a perfect specimen of his tribe. 
 His dress was a broad-brimmed low hat, a dark 
 brown cloak with sleeves, and a solitary under- 
 garment, which, woven apparently without 
 seam, served him for vest, pantaloons, and 
 stockings. The only apertures in these curious 
 looking pantoufles which we could detect, were 
 from the heel to about midway in the calf of 
 the leg, and these were carefully laced-up with 
 
 brass wires. 
 
 Under his cloak the youth carried a calf 's- 
 skin pouch, which was suspended from a 
 leathern belt that crossed his right shoulder; 
 and we observed that this latter piece of dress 
 was ornamented with exceeding care. It was 
 indented all over with minute lines, not very 
 unlike the tatooing on a South Sea islander's 
 face ; and it bore, just over the chest, a lion's 
 head made of brass, from a ring attached to 
 which were suspended about twenty or thirty 
 
 brass pipe-pickers. His avowed object in en- 
 tering the beer-house was to dispose of some 
 of these latter, which he offered for sale at three 
 kreutzers a-piece; and I need scarcely add 
 that we became purchasers. But we were not 
 content with the pickers. Having questioned 
 him as to the value which he put upon his belt, 
 I pulled out the money, and offered to purchase 
 that too ; but he would not part with it ; and 
 to all our questions touching the head-quarters 
 of his tribe he turned a deaf ear. He either 
 could not, or would not, understand us; and 
 made his escape on the first lull that took place 
 in our conversation. 
 
 There is no denying that the whole appear- 
 ance of this youth was very picturesque, but it 
 was a great deal more picturesque than attrac- 
 tive. His long shaggy hair and dark olive 
 complexion were alike remarkable ; but the 
 expression of his countenance was decidedly 
 bad, and he never looked you straight in the 
 face. To be sure, the treatment which, in 
 common with others of his class, he probably 
 receives from the Bohemians, is not calculated 
 to make him fall in love with them ; for the 
 
i 
 
 ■Hi 
 
 134 
 
 A YOUNG TORPINDA. 
 
 ARNAU. 
 
 135 
 
 11 
 
 people of the country seem to regard these 
 wanderers with a mixture of contempt and 
 loathing. Yet I imagined that I read in that 
 downcast look, and in the stealthy air which 
 attached to all his movements, marks of the sort 
 of training which may be expected to product an 
 accomplished vagabond. I dare say that young 
 fellow knew perfectly well how to silence the 
 cackling of a barn-door fowl in a hurry, and 
 might not be inexpert in the operation of re- 
 moving quietly a knapsack, or other load, from 
 beneath a sleeping man's head. But the thews 
 and sinews of the boy, and I may add, of all 
 of his tribe whom we encountered, were not 
 such as to impress me with any very exalted 
 ideas of their strength or prowess. I fancied 
 that, with the aid of a good stick, I should not 
 be afraid to give any three of them the knives of 
 which I had heard so much, and then join battle. 
 When the boy was gone we proceeded to 
 question our landlady as to the habits of his 
 people, and we received from her an account 
 corresponding in all respects with that which 
 our first informant had given us. She added, 
 over and above, that there was no trusting 
 
 them ; that they were deceitful to a degree 
 unparalleled among men, and that no arts or 
 offices of kindness ever won their forbearance. 
 We listened to her statements more than half 
 disposed to credit them, yet we adhered to our 
 original determination, nevertheless, of joining 
 the first gypsy camp on which, during the 
 course of our tour, we might stumble. 
 
 By this time it was necessary to move ; and 
 I state the fact in consequence of a trifling 
 incident, illustrative, I conceive, of the extreme 
 honesty of this simple people. We had ad- 
 vanced, perhaps, a quarter of an English mile 
 towards Arnau, a town through which our route 
 lay, when we heard a female voice shouting 
 behind us, and on turning round saw our land- 
 lady in full pursuit. I had left behind me on 
 the table a penknife,— of very little value, in- 
 asmuch as one of the blades was broken, — and 
 this good woman would not permit me to be 
 the loser of it. AVhen I add, that she was in a 
 state during which running must have been both 
 inconvenient and hurtful to her, the strength 
 of the principle which urged her to bring me 
 my knife will be better understood. 
 
f 
 
 X. 
 
 136 
 
 FRANCISCAN CONVENT. 
 
 TROUTENAU. 
 
 137 
 
 Arnau is an old-fashioned town, with a wide 
 market-place, in the centre of which stand two 
 colossal statues, representing two warriors in 
 complete armour, each armed with a sword. 
 The people told us they were of very ancient 
 date, and represented the two knights, by 
 whom, in old times, the town was founded. 
 Tliere is, besides, a convent of Franciscan 
 monks in the immediate neighbourhood, which 
 contains eighty brothers; a clumsy pile, evi- 
 dently of modern construction, and resembling 
 in its exterior a manufactory, much more than 
 a house of religious persons. One of the bro- 
 thers we met in the town, to whom the chil- 
 dren seemed to pay much respect. His dress 
 was a brown coarse frock, a bare head, with a 
 shaven crown, bare legs, sandals for his feet, 
 and a rosary of black beads fastened round his 
 middle. I asked him the way to Troutenau, 
 and received a very short, and somewhat unsa- 
 tisfactory answer. 
 
 We did not halt in Arnau, neither were we 
 tempted to solicit admission into the convent. 
 I had been initiated into all the mysteries of 
 such a place of abode long ago ; and my young 
 
 companion appeared more anxious to reach 
 Aderspach and Schnee-Kuppee as speedily as 
 possible, than to take his first lesson in mona- 
 chism here. It was well, too, that, retaining 
 our resolution of passing that night at Troute- 
 nau, we had self-denial enough to pass the 
 monastery by ; for a long and toilsome way was 
 before us, which we did not compass till past 
 seven o'clock. No doubt the march was pro- 
 lific in objects to charm the sense of sight. 
 As we drew towards them, the snowy moun- 
 tains assumed continually a bolder and more 
 striking aspect ; while, several of the villages, 
 and one schloss, which was undergoing repair, 
 drew forth our liveliest admiration. But the 
 journey proved to be, upon the whole, both 
 tedious and toilsome ; and right glad were we, 
 when, on gaining the summit of a steep ascent, 
 we beheld Troutenau at our feet. We made 
 directly for the inn, which was recommended as 
 the best ; and, except that the house was full of 
 workmen, our chamber small, and our beds 
 detestable, we have no 'right to put down the 
 Gasthof zum Weissen Ross, as one of the bad 
 places of call on the march to Schnee-Kuppee. 
 
138 
 
 A RELIGIOUS PROCESSION. 
 
 WANDERING MUSICIANS. 
 
 139 
 
 The inn was in great confusion, for unfor- 
 tunately for ourselves we arrived at a moment 
 when bricklayers, carpenters, and plasterers 
 were busy in counteracting the effect of time 
 and rough usage almost everywhere, except in 
 the coffee-room. This latter, however, proved 
 to be comfortable enough ; and we enjoyed it 
 the more that it was divided into two compart- 
 ments, one of which was allotted to the hum- 
 bler classes of travellers, while the other, which 
 commanded a view of the square, was assigned 
 to gentlefolks. Moreover there occurred two 
 circumstances, which, by furnishing us with 
 objects of contemplation, contributed to make 
 the evening pass lightly away. First, we saw 
 from our window the completion of a ceremony 
 similar to that which at Eisenhammer we had 
 so cruelly interrupted by our fishing. A whole 
 posse of peasants, male and female, with cruci- 
 fix and mass-book at their head, marched in 
 procession towards the market-cross ; and, after 
 chanting a hymn, fell down upon their knees, 
 one after another, and covered the hands and 
 feet of the stone statues that ornamented it, 
 with kisses. This done, the larger number 
 
 dispersed, and, as it seemed, retired quietly 
 to their homes. But there were others who 
 appeared to think that a work so pious as that 
 in which they had been engaged merited, on 
 the part of the body, some refreshment. These 
 adjourned to the inn, and drank sundry flasks 
 of beer with great relish. 
 
 In the next place we found that the outer 
 portion of the coffee-room was occupied in part 
 by a band of wandering musicians, — a sort of 
 calling which is in Bohemia very frequent, and 
 which, both there and elsewhere in Germany, 
 holds a higher place in public estimation than 
 among us. These men wore a sort of uniform, 
 namely, high-crowned white hats, with flowers 
 in the front, gray frocks, and half-boots; and 
 their performance, I am bound to add, was by 
 no means contemptible. They played one or two 
 airs very sweetly under the burgomaster's win- 
 dow, which, as the said window looked out into 
 the square, enabled us, as well as a multitude 
 of the town's-people, to share in the treat. 
 
 We retired early to bed, for we were a good 
 deal fatigued, and the cold,— an unusual ground 
 of complaint with us ever since we set out 
 from home, — was disagreeable. The truth in- 
 
140 
 
 EXTREME COLD. 
 
 EXCELLENT FISHING. 
 
 141 
 
 deed is, that we were now at a great elevation 
 above the level of the sea, and that the wind hap- 
 pening to blow from Schnee-Kuppee, the back 
 of which, white with the deposit of a thousand 
 storms, lay towards us, came keen and biting. 
 So sharp, indeed, was the temperature, that the 
 landlord, whom we consulted relative to the 
 nature of a river which, with a broad clear cur- 
 rent, flows past the town, assured us that it 
 would be vain to think of fishing in it, because 
 though it abounded with fine trout, the season 
 was not suflliciently advanced to admit of their 
 being taken with the rod and line. I took the 
 liberty in this case, as in the case of the gyp- 
 sies, to credit something less than half of the 
 intelligence conveyed to me ; and I found, on 
 the morrow, when the question was tried on its 
 own merits, that I had come to the right con- 
 clusion. 
 
 It was a fine bright bracing morning, and the 
 clocks were striking seven when we quitted 
 Troutenau ; a very pretty clean town, well situ- 
 ated, on the slope of a hill, and commanding, as 
 I have hinted above, a noble view of the snowy 
 ridges of the Riesengebirgen. Aderspach was 
 our point for the day, — a place represented to 
 
 il 
 
 us as well worth visiting on account of the re- 
 markable rocks and fells which abound in its 
 vicinity. As it was said, however, to be no 
 more than three or four stunden distant, we did 
 not think that we were required to make any 
 extraordinary exertions, and the river looked so 
 tempting, that, in spite of the landlord's advice 
 to the contrary, we resolved to try it. We can- 
 not boast much of our success. Three or four 
 grayling, with a trout of moderate size, were all 
 the prizes that rewarded our toil, till we came 
 to a deep pool, into which, not without a hope 
 of better things, I threw my fly. A magnificent 
 fish rose instantly, and I hooked him. We had 
 a tough battle for it, inasmuch as my tackle 
 happened to be light, and I was standing on an 
 awkward sort of a weir when he took the fly ; 
 but victory declared for me. After ten minutes' 
 pleasant manoeuvring, I landed a trout, which 
 would have done no discredit, in point of size 
 and form, to the Iser itself. 
 
 By this time, noon was approaching, and as 
 we had no disposition to burden ourselves with 
 some tons' weight of fish, we wound up, and 
 restored our rods to their cases. We then turned 
 
142 
 
 OUR host's account 
 
 our faces steadily towards Aderspach, and fol- 
 lowing the chauss^e, found that in proportion 
 as we got involved among the numerous green 
 hills which overlook it, all ground of com- 
 plaint on the score of a sharp temperature, was 
 taken away. The weather, in short, became 
 intensely oppressive, and we, in consequence, 
 on whom the exercise of fishing had not been 
 without its effect, began to get excessively tired. 
 We pushed on, however, with an occasional 
 halt, till we could calculate that half our jour- 
 ney was accomplished ; when having arrived at 
 a comfortable-looking village inn, we carried 
 our fish into the tap-room, and had them cooked 
 for dinner. They were excellent, and sufficed 
 not only for ourselves, but for the landlord and 
 the whole of his family, whose mittagsmahl, as 
 the Germans call it, had, by some extraordinary 
 accident, been delayed full two hours beyond 
 the customary period of noon. 
 
 We found our village innkeeper, as, indeed^ 
 was the case with almost all persons of his rank 
 and calling, a good-humoured, obliging, and in- 
 telligent man. He had been twice married, w^as 
 the father of five sons, from one of whom, a 
 
 OF THE TORPINDAS. 
 
 143 
 
 jager in the Austrian service, he had just re- 
 ceived a letter, which, as it happened to be 
 written remarkably well, he showed us with all 
 a father's pride. He gave us, likewise, as much 
 information touching the local affairs of the 
 neighbourhood as we considered it worth while 
 to require, and spoke freely about the Torpin- 
 das, with whom he seemed to be well acquainted. 
 The prevalent tales of their blood-thirstiness 
 he entirely confirmed, though he seemed to 
 insinuate that they were more free with the 
 lives of one another, than with those of 
 strangers; and he warned us that we should 
 look in vain for a camp. Nothing of the kind 
 existed, nor was permitted by the police to 
 exist, in this quarter of Austria. " As to the 
 people themselves," continued he, " they are an 
 idle, good-for-nothing set, exceedingly fond of 
 money, and great hoarders of it when they can 
 get it. I have seen, in this room, a Torpinda 
 produce as many as a hundred guldens; and 
 yet he would not disburse a single kreutzer for 
 straw to sleep upon." We were more mortified 
 by this man's account of the gypsies than by 
 any which we had yet received; for it ^ bore 
 
144 
 
 MAGNIFICENT 
 
 MOUNTAIN SCENERY. 
 
 145 
 
 about it a greater air of truth, and, as a neces- 
 sary result, tended more than any thing which 
 we had yet heard, to dissipate into thin air the 
 visions of gypsy life which up to that moment 
 we continued to cherish. 
 
 Having rested an hour in the inn, we set out 
 again, accompanied by our host, who volunteered 
 to show us both a shorter and more pleasant 
 path than that which we had heretofore fol- 
 lowed. This was the more acceptable by reason 
 of the discovery which we made, that in speak- 
 ing of Aderspach as only four hours' walk 
 from Troutenau, our host of the latter place 
 had erred widely from the mark. It was still 
 four good hours' ahead of us. Nevertheless, 
 we had plenty of daylight before us ; and the 
 prospect of using it among green fields and 
 umbrageous forests was not without its effect 
 on the minds of persons who had toiled 
 throughout the morning along a dusty and 
 burning high-road. 
 
 Though I have, perhaps, said more respecting 
 the scenery of this part of Bohemia than was 
 necessary, I cannot omit to mention, that from 
 the brow of a hill which we ascended soon after 
 
 our host quitted us, we obtained as glorious a 
 view of a cultivated mountain district as the 
 eye of man will probably rest upon in any 
 quarter of the world. The abundant wood of 
 this fine country gives, indeed, to all its land- 
 scapes, a charm which there needs but the pre- 
 sence of water to complete, and to the particu- 
 lar scene on which we now looked down, water 
 happened not to be wanting. From the bosom 
 of the river which flows past Troutenau, the 
 sun's rays were reflected ; and as its course lay 
 through groves and fells, — now hidden between 
 overhanging rocks, now emerging again into a 
 wide valley, — the effect was altogether very 
 striking. Moreover, to a varied and pictu- 
 resque extent of hill and vale, forest and green 
 meadow, hamlet and town, — ^the latter either cast 
 into the recess of some deep glen, or straggling 
 upwards along the mountain side, — ^the Riesen- 
 gebirgen formed the back ground; bald, and 
 frowning in all the majesty of rocky shoulders 
 and snow-clad summits. It was, indeed, a glo- 
 ous view, and it tempted us to linger so long in 
 the enjoyment of it, that we did not reach our 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 H 
 
 1^1 
 
146 
 
 MEET A COUPLE 
 
 OF TORPINDAS. 
 
 147 
 
 quarters, — the comfortable inn at Aderspach, — 
 till near eight o'clock. 
 
 There befel nothing during our progress from 
 this beautiful spot, till we arrived at the place 
 where we had resolved to pass the night, of 
 which I need be expected to give a detailed 
 account. All travellers on foot, through 
 strange countries, must expect to lose their 
 way occasionally ; and we formed no exception 
 to the general rule. Moreover, our mishaps, 
 this day, were the more provoking, that we 
 chanced to have penetrated into a comparatively 
 thinly-peopled region, the two villages which 
 we traversed lying far apart one from the other, 
 and there being no hamlets nor detached houses 
 to keep up the communication. Nor w^ere we, 
 as it seemed, the only pedestrians to whom the 
 district was strange. As we were passing 
 through a deep forest, at a point admirably 
 suited to deeds of violence, we met a couple of 
 Torpindas, who stopped us to inquire the way to 
 the nearest town ; at least I conclude that this 
 was their object, from the peculiar gestures 
 which they used, and the intonation which they 
 
 i 
 
 J 
 
 
 gave to their voices ; for as to their words, of 
 these I could make nothing. Having just been 
 stuffed with a tale of their lawless habits, the 
 sight of these persons threw me, of course, on 
 the alert. I grasped the butt of my gaff-stick, 
 — an excellent weapon, about the length and 
 weight of a policeman's staff, — and braced up my 
 nerves for the melee. But when we stood face 
 to face, all idea that they would venture to 
 begin the fray vanished. Though they were 
 young men, in the prime of life, probably not 
 more than five or six-and-twenty, I verily be- 
 lieve, that with the weapons which nature has 
 given me, I could have rendered them both in- 
 capable of molesting henroosts for ever, and 
 been but little fatigued by the exercise. 
 
 The Torpindas passed on quietly enough when 
 they found that they could not make them- 
 selves understood; and there followed them 
 soon afterwards, another foot-passenger, whose 
 style of travel amused us not a little. He was 
 a stout, elderly man, arrayed in a brown frock 
 coat, long and loose, and descending to his 
 ankles, and he trudged forward with a good 
 cudgel in his hand, as independently as need be. 
 
 H 2 
 
148 
 
 A WHEELBARROW TRAVELLER. 
 
 But lie carried no load on his back. On the 
 contrary, there followed him a peasant with a 
 wheelbarrow, on which was laid the stout gen- 
 tleman's trunk, and as they happened, when we 
 encountered them, to be descending a hill, the 
 strange vehicle kept up famously. How it 
 would fare with them after they crossed the 
 valley beneath, I do not know. But probably 
 our friend had fixed stages, at each of which, 
 instead of ordering out fresh horses, he ordered 
 merely a fresh wheelbarrow and trundler. I 
 dare say he journeyed with extreme satisfaction 
 to himself ; at least I am quite sure that he 
 looked as if he did. 
 
 It was late in the evening, and our patience 
 was well-nigh exhausted, when, on gaining the 
 brow of an eminence, we beheld a straggling 
 villao-e at our feet ; and were almost as much 
 surprised as delighted to find that it was Aders- 
 pach. Let nobody form a judgment of the sort 
 of quarters which he will find at the Trucktere- 
 Gasthof, from the miserable appearance which 
 the town of Aderspach presents. To be sure, he 
 must pass through the town entirely, leave the 
 schloss, a huge pile of brickwork, behind him, 
 
 THE FELSEN AT ADERSPACH. 149 
 
 and penetrate into the fells ere the Trucktere- 
 house becomes visible ; but the first aspect of 
 it will, unless I much deceive myself, excite in 
 his mind anticipations, not only of good fare, 
 but of clean apartments, and unpretending 
 civility. Nor will such anticipations be disap- 
 pointed. A nicer country inn I never inha- 
 bited, and I say this without excepting either 
 the inn at Dalmally, near Loch Awe, nor its rival 
 in comfort, if not in elegance, at Tyne-drom. 
 
 The Fells, or Felsen, at Aderspach, is justly 
 accounted one of the most extraordinary pro- 
 ductions of nature's handiwork in all Bohemia. 
 Masses of rock, some of them two or three 
 hundred feet in height, have, by some strange 
 convulsion, been so tossed about, that now they 
 stand on end like detached towers, or rather 
 like the turreted walls of some gigantic laby- 
 rinth, through which a narrow path twists and 
 turns in the most extraordinary manner pos- 
 sible. Very many of these rocks bear a striking 
 resemblance, some to beasts, some to men, some 
 to musical instruments, and others to different 
 articles which we constantly meet either in our 
 walks through the populous city, or within the 
 
150 
 
 VIEW FROM THE 
 
 domestic circle. As might be expected, the 
 people of the country have called each image 
 after the name of the original which it repre- 
 sents. Not far from the back door of the inn 
 is an enormous inverted Sugar-loaf; a little way 
 removed from it is the Chimney, and it must be 
 acknowledged that the resemblance which both 
 of them bear to the objects from which their 
 names are derived, is very striking. 
 
 But this is the least of the wonders attach- 
 ing to the place, in order to introduce which to 
 the reader's acquaintance, it will be necessary 
 that I should take him, as it were, by the hand, 
 and join him to our little party as we make the 
 tour of the labyrinth. 
 
 Suppose us, then, snugly housed in the 
 Trucktere-house, well-fed, well attended, sup- 
 plied with clean, tidy beds, and greatly refreshed 
 by a sound night's sleep, such as monarchs 
 might envy. We rise next morning at seven, 
 to find that here, even more keenlv than at 
 Troutenau, the influence of an elevated situa- 
 tion is felt, and that over the long inclined 
 plane which stretches upwards from us in the 
 direction of the Riesengebirgen, a sharp, cold 
 
 
 TRUCKTERE-HOUSE. 
 
 151 
 
 wind blows cuttingly. This circumstance, how- 
 ever, interferes, in no respect, with our break- 
 fast, which, as far as the means furnished will 
 allow, is eaten with great relish. After which, 
 about nine o'clock, we sally forth in quest of 
 adventures, under the guidance of a ragged 
 youth, who is to officiate as our cicerone. 
 From the inn-door we look abroad upon a 
 mountain of basalts, covered on its summit by 
 a forest of pines, and beautifully feathered 
 along its face with birch-trees. That mountain 
 well nigh semicircular in the front which is 
 turned towards us, constitutes the Felsen ; and 
 along its base we walk, following a narrow 
 foot-path, which is bordered by a little stream, 
 and leads, serpent-fashion, towards the rocks. 
 We pass, in this brief progress, the Sugar-loaf; 
 and observing the ravages which time is making 
 on its inverted cone, we anticipate the hour, 
 probably not very distant, when it will topple 
 over, and fall flat upon the earth. But this is 
 nothing. Our ragged guide conducts us across 
 a wooden bridge, up a road, hollowed out by 
 nature, through the rocks, till suddenly we 
 reach what resembles the mouth of a mine, 
 
152 
 
 VISIT TO THE FELSEN. 
 
 VISIT TO THE FELSEN. 
 
 153 
 
 ii! 
 
 across which a door is drawn. The sura of four 
 groschens, or sixpence a head, applies a key to 
 the lock of that door, and we are immediately 
 introduced into the giant's dwelling. For as 
 the term Riesengebirgen signifies " The Giant's 
 Mountains," so these fells are represented by 
 tradition to have been the abode of the mon- 
 ster-man, after whom the range which separates 
 Bohemia from Silesia has been named. Of 
 this giant's personal history it is needless to say 
 more, than that he is the same Number Nip 
 with whose mischievous exploits w^e have all, 
 from our early childhood, been familiar. His 
 favourite haunts were here and in one of the 
 ravines of Schnee-Koppee ; and I must say 
 this much for him, that in his choice of quar- 
 ters, he exhibited not only a great deal of skill, 
 but a very commendable share of taste into the 
 bargain. 
 
 The door being opened, we find ourselves 
 in a narrow passage, open to the heavens, 
 .perhaps a couple of hundred feet over-head, 
 but walled in on either hand by rocks, perpen- 
 dicular as the drop of the plummet. The 
 passage being exceedingly tortuous, does not 
 
 permit any extensive view to the front; but 
 at each new turn some new wonder presents 
 itself, either in the formation of some parti- 
 cular rock, or in the grotesque and striking 
 combinations of masses. Here the guide stops 
 us to point out a chimney most distinctly 
 defined ; by-and-by two enormous kettle-drums 
 are exhibited ; then comes a barrel-organ on 
 one hand, and a pulpit on the other, beyond 
 which lies the chancel of a church. Above 
 our heads, meanwhile, on the very summits of 
 detached peaks, stand the Burgomaster, in his 
 full-bottomed wig, the Emperor Leopold, — 
 an exact resemblance, — and John the Baptist 
 preaching in the desert. This last is really a 
 very curious specimen of what Dame Nature can 
 sometimes accomplish, when she takes it into 
 her head to become sculptor. On a lofty 
 cone, yet little elevated above the surrounding 
 masses, the very emblems of desolation, stands 
 the image of a man, with a shaggy mantle 
 thrown across his shoulders, and one arm raised 
 as if in the act of speaking,— no inappropriate 
 monument to him who, though the greatest of 
 the prophets that lived under the Law, was in 
 
 H 3 
 
 I 
 
154 
 
 THE GIANTESS S APARTMENT. 
 
 his day of mortality less than the least of those 
 to whom the Gospel dispensation has been 
 communicated. 
 
 After pausing awhile to examine these, as 
 well as the form of a dog in a recumbent posi- 
 tion, not far removed from them, we passed on ; 
 first, into the Giant's Mouth, — an enormous 
 arch, armed, as it seems, with teeth, — and then 
 into the Frauen Zimmer, or Giantess's Apart- 
 ment. It must have been but a sorry lodging 
 for a lady of so much personal weight in the 
 world, and supposing her proportions to have 
 resembled those of her husband, would not fail 
 to cramp her exceedingly; for it is nothing 
 more than a hole in the rock, measuring per- 
 haps twenty feet in length, by six or eight in 
 width. But giants and giantesses lived, it is 
 presumed, chiefly in the open air, and this 
 which is called her chamber, may have been, 
 after all, nothing more than her couch. If 
 such were the case, she must have had no taste 
 for down mattresses and feather-bed coverings. 
 
 We were advanced by this time, many hun- 
 dred yards into the bowels of the mountain, 
 and stood at length on a fair open platform. 
 
 THE WATERFALL. 
 
 155 
 
 surrounded as heretofore, by enormous cUflEs, 
 yet having room enough, and to spare. Here 
 a small rustic arbour has been formed with 
 rough-hewn pine logs, and close by is a sort of 
 pantry, composed of similar materials, while 
 facing them a little rivulet pours its water from 
 a ledge of rock, causing the air around to re- 
 verberate with its ceaseless and most refreshing 
 music. Our guide described the spot merely as 
 the lesser waterfall, while he invited us to drink 
 from a fountain which bubbled up close to the 
 stream. I do not think that I ever tasted 
 water more deliciously cool and limpid. 
 
 The phrase "Lesser Waterfall" naturally 
 associated itself in our minds with something 
 more wonderful, and we questioned the guide 
 on the subject, who, instead of answering 
 directly, invited us to foUow him. We did so, 
 winding round the corner of a huge column ; 
 but no cataract met our inquiring gaze. " Wait 
 you here," said the boy, " or rather go on into 
 that recess, while I run up the face of the cliff, 
 and lift the sluice." The idea of a sluice, as con- 
 nected with one of the most sublime of nature's 
 productions, was too ludicrous. It reminded us 
 
156 
 
 THE WATERFALL. 
 
 THE WATERFALL, 
 
 157 
 
 of a miserable little affair, not far from Schandau, 
 on the road to the Kuhstall, which the delighted 
 Saxons exhibit to you as one of the wonders 
 of their land, and for the display of which you 
 are charged one groschen. For this Saxon 
 cataract consists of a stream of water, a size or 
 too more voluminous than that which may, at 
 any time, be seen winding its way along the 
 groved outsides of the streets in one of our fifth- 
 rate boroughs in England. Yet the Saxons make 
 the most of it. By means of a deal fence they 
 dam it up on the top of a rock, perhaps twelve 
 feet high, and so keep it till some pleasure- 
 seeking stranger happens to approach the spot. 
 Then, after exciting his curiosity to the utmost, 
 an old man leaves the wanderer in the road to 
 gaze about in vain, not only for the cataract, 
 but for any place where a cataract might be 
 expected to exist. Yet the stranger must not 
 begin to murmur too speedily. All at once a 
 cracked voice bids him attend. He turns round ; 
 the sluice is raised, and out comes a volume of 
 water, of all things in creation most resembling 
 that which in the old town of Edinburgh 
 follows on the exclamation, " Garde loo !" I 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 i9H 
 
 advise the astonished traveller not to indulge 
 his admiration too long. If, in the intensity of 
 his ardour, he keep the sluice open more than 
 ten minutes, not only does the waterfall fade 
 and disappear before his own eyes, but a month 
 may elapse ere it shall be in a fit state to be 
 exhibited again. 
 
 All these brilliant images took possession of 
 our fancies as soon as the boy had uttered the 
 unlucky word " sluice;" and smiling to one 
 another, we made up our minds to rest con- 
 tentedly where we were. But we did not 
 adhere to this determination. In a few minutes 
 there came upon us a noise like the growling 
 of distant thunder; by-and-by the fall of water 
 was loudly and fiercely distinct, and we knew, 
 to our extreme surprise, that this was a very 
 different affair from the cataract in Saxon Swit- 
 zerland. We therefore hurried round the angle 
 of the rock, and guided by the sound, came at 
 last to behold what really was a very fine sight. 
 From a ledge, perhaps thirty or forty feet high, 
 a rivulet discharged a considerable body of 
 water into a cavern, beneath the foundations of 
 which, though it was impossible to say in what 
 
 'I 
 
158 
 
 THE WATERFALL. 
 
 THE ECHO. 
 
 159 
 
 direction, the current held its course. I must 
 confess that we stood and gazed upon the 
 scene for some moments in great admiration,— 
 a feeling which was probably heightened in 
 consequence of the unlooked-for issue to an 
 adventure, of the commencement of which we 
 had augured so unfavourably. 
 
 Having thus witnessed the effect, we natu- 
 rally enough desired to look upon the cause 
 also; in other words, nothing would content 
 us, except to ascend the cliff, and watch the 
 whole process of lifting and replacing the 
 sluice. I am not sure that the sight recom- 
 pensed us for the labour that was necessary to 
 obtain it. The stream, to be sure, looked dark 
 and deep, hemmed in as it was, between walls 
 of rock, and to watch the descent of the mass 
 of water from above, was quite as fine as to 
 look up to it from below ; but the process of 
 climbing was both toilsome and hazardous, and 
 I do not therefore advise others to undergo it, 
 unless they be both strong of head and sure of 
 foot. 
 
 The waterfall, like the general discharge of 
 fire-works at Vauxhall, or the blowing-up of 
 
 the beleaguered fortress in a melo-drama, was 
 the last and greatest wonder which our guide 
 had to show us, and the termination of the 
 play was marked by the usual application for 
 a little drinkgelt. This we gave, of course ; 
 but having heard something of a wonderful 
 echo, we begged him at the same time to con- 
 duct us to the spot where it was to be heard. 
 We were drawing, in this instance, too much 
 either upon his goodnature or his powers. The 
 echo was not in his department. A separate 
 functionary called that forth at will, and to his 
 care we were transferred. He was an old man, 
 who played wretchedly on the French horn and 
 clarionet, both of which, as well as a double- 
 barrelled gun, were called into operation, and 
 there is no denying that the effect was fine. 
 Four reverberations followed each blast; all of 
 them clear and distinct, as if four separate 
 instruments had spoken. The last sounded 
 like the voice of a trumpet, issuing from some 
 dark woods, perhaps five or six miles distant. 
 
 Such were the wonders which we saw and 
 heard at Aderspach, — a mighty show-place, as 
 it appears, to Poles, Prussians, Bohemians, and 
 
160 
 
 THE WANDERING MINSTRELS. 
 
 even Saxons; yet strange to say, not often 
 visited by our own more restless countrymen. 
 Yet our adventures in the Trucktere-house did 
 not end here. There arrived, soon after we 
 came in, the identical travelling band which had 
 delighted us with their music in Troutenau; 
 and partly to conciliate us, partly to ensure 
 for themselves a supper free of expense, they 
 played some airs very sweetly in the passage. 
 One of these took my fancy so much, that I 
 begged to have a copy of the notes, and sent 
 out a florin as the price of my purchase. But 
 in thus paying for the goods before I got them, 
 I had over-calculated the honesty even of 
 Bohemian minstrels. The master of the band 
 pronounced that the air should be ready for me 
 next morning, but it never came ; and when I 
 inquired for the performers, they were gone. 
 So much for paying beforehand for matters so 
 light as the notes of music. 
 
 161 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 WALK TO SHATZLAR.-— MAGNIFICENT SCENERY.— EXTREME 
 FATIGUE. — OUR LANDLORD. — EARLY ASSOCIATIONS 
 
 AWAKENED BY A SCENE IN THE MARKET-PLACE. REST 
 
 FOR A DAY. ASCENT OF SCHNEE-KOPPEE. HALT AT A 
 
 VILLAGE ON THE SILESIAN SIDE. 
 
 All the wonders which I have inadequately 
 described in the preceding chapter, having 
 been investigated between the hours of nine 
 and twelve, we made up our minds to dine 
 like gentlemen at Aderspach, and to proceed 
 that evening as far as Shatzlar, a town at the 
 Bohemian foot of Schnee-Koppee. We were 
 the more induced to adopt this course, because 
 Shatzlar was stated to be only four hours' walk 
 from Aderspach, and we believed ourselves suf- 
 ficiently strong, not only to accomplish that 
 over-night, but to undertake the ascent of the 
 mountain himself on the morrow\ The result 
 proved that our calculations had rested on no 
 solid basis. Instead of a four hours' walk, 
 Shatzlar proved to be rather more than six 
 
162 
 
 SHATZLAR. 
 
 SHATZLAR. 
 
 163 
 
 hours' distant ; and the way being mountainous 
 and rugged, we came in thoroughly knocked 
 up. I do not recollect that throughout the 
 whole of our excursion we were, on any other 
 occasion, so indifferent to the magnificent 
 scenery that surrounded us ; and probably the 
 reader will not be displeased that the case was 
 so, seeing that our indifference at the moment 
 saves him the labour now of perusing what 
 might very possibly be felt as a wearisome 
 description of it. 
 
 Shatzlar is a large straggling burgh, destitute 
 of manufactures, and apparently little visited 
 by travellers ; though the inn, which is kept by 
 the burgomaster, can boast of very tolerable 
 accommodations, and a host and hostess both 
 well disposed to fall in with their guests' wishes. 
 There is a schloss hard by, inhabited by certain 
 officials, who, however, exercise no jurisdiction 
 over the town ; and a church, not remarkable 
 for anything, except the good order of its 
 charnel-house. This, a small building separated 
 by the breadth of the churchyard from the 
 main edifice, seems to be a place of deposit for 
 all the skulls and other bones which may be 
 
 ■-'ft 
 
 'H 
 
 thrown up in digging the graves ; and they are 
 arranged round the walls with as much taste as 
 their ghastly character will allow. 
 
 We felt so tired, and our feet were suffering 
 so much from blisters, that we resolved to give 
 ourselves a day of total rest in Shatzlar ; and 
 in spite of the ennui attendant on such an 
 arrangement, we adhered to it with laudable 
 pertinacity. Rising at seven, and breakfasting 
 at eight in the morning, we whiled away the 
 time till dinner by strolling up the side of the 
 hill, along which the town is built, and enjoy- 
 ing the exquisite panorama which, from various 
 points, it opened out upon us. We visited 
 likewise the fountain of the Bober, a well deep 
 in the forest, and drank of its waters ere yet 
 they had become polluted by flowing among the 
 habitations of men. Our guide, the burgo- 
 master's son, conducted us likewise to a corner 
 of the wood which is set apart for bird-catch- 
 ing, and where every tree is armed with one 
 or more gins, skilfully made of horse-hair and 
 attached to the bark. The pencil also was 
 appealed to, but in vain. This was too exten- 
 sive, as well as too glorious a scene, to be 
 
164 
 
 THE INNKEEPERS FAMILY. 
 
 FORCE OF ASSOCIATION. 
 
 165 
 
 copied by one so little skilled in the art as 
 myself; so, after spoiling two or three leaves in 
 my journal book, I desisted from the attempt ; 
 and we descended to the inn, where the smell 
 of calb's-flesh in preparation warned us that the 
 hour of dinner was not far distant. It came in 
 due course, and the meal was discussed effec- 
 tually; after which the burgomaster favoured 
 us with his company, though he steadily refused 
 to partake of the excellent wine which his own 
 cellar produced. He was a man of some intel- 
 ligence, and had an ambition to see his children 
 rise upwards on the hill of life. Accordingly 
 one of his sons, a delicate youth, is preparing 
 himself for holy orders ; another is studying 
 medicine at the university of Vienna; and 
 the third, the lad who accompanied us in our 
 morning's ramble, had served his time with 
 a cotton manufacturer. But the confinement 
 not agreeing with his delicate constitution, the 
 burgomaster had brought him home; and he 
 now officiates as a sort of waiter in the hotel, 
 with the understanding that at his father's de- 
 cease, or perliaps before it, he shall succeed to 
 the hotel itself. 
 
 In listening to such details one hour was 
 spent. Another passed away in watching from 
 the window such objects as this most qu.et of 
 quiet Bohemian burghs might produce. And 
 of these there was one which, being associated 
 .ith the memory of other days, interested me 
 not a little. There is a fountain in the middle 
 of the market-place, into which one stream of 
 fresh water is continually flowing, while another 
 drains off from it. Hither the women bring 
 their clothes to be washed; not in the foun- 
 tain itself, but in their own tubs, which they 
 range round it; and the proceedings of one of 
 these industrious damsels amused me much. 
 She filled her tub to the brim, and then kilting 
 her petticoats, set to work tramping with might 
 and main, precisely as, in years long gone by I 
 have seen a Scotch girl do, on the Back-walk 
 at Stirling, or the Calton Hill in Edinburgh. 
 What a strange thing is association, and how 
 easily is it called into play by the veriest trifles. 
 The woman's legs had nothing to boast of m 
 the way of symmetry, but I confess that I 
 matched them, in their alternate rise and fall, 
 with a degree of interest such as I have not for 
 
166 
 
 STROLL ALONG THE BOBER. 
 
 ASCENT OF SCHNEE-KOPPEE. 
 
 167 
 
 many a day bestowed on any other pair of 
 understandings, whether male or female. 
 
 The legs at length disappeared, for the cur- 
 tain of the petticoats was dropped, and with it 
 fell all the bright and glowing visions of boy- 
 hood, in which I had been indulging. I felt 
 once more that I was neither in life's prime, 
 nor a denizen of " bonny Scotland ;" so I lis- 
 tened to certain suggestions which my young 
 companion had for some time been making, 
 and agreed to accompany him a little way 
 down the course of the Bober, while he tried to 
 fish. We went accordingly, but to no purpose. 
 The Bober does not become a trout-stream till 
 long after it has lost sight of the source from 
 whence it springs, and we had our walk, with 
 the conversation of the young burgomaster and 
 a friend of his, a learned baker in the village, 
 as our reward. The historical researches of 
 the latter gentleman had been very extensive, 
 and he possessed a laudable zeal to make this 
 known. He was very curious to know whether 
 Lord Cromwell were yet alive, or the king of 
 England's head put on again. I did my best 
 to satisfy him on these interesting topics ; but 
 
 r 
 
 I doubt whether I succeeded ; for on my assur- 
 ing him that there was no Lord Cromwell, and 
 that the head of William IV. had never been 
 cut off, he eyed me with a glance of peculiar 
 
 distrust. 
 
 Thus passed a day at Shatzlar,— heavily 
 
 enough, it must be allowed ; for, ardent as my 
 admiration of Wordsworth's poetry is, I con- 
 fess that I have not succeeded in imbibing so 
 much of his philosophy as to feel as he would 
 doubtless have felt in a similar situation. Both 
 mine and my companion's overwrought limbs, 
 however, derived no slight advantage from the 
 halt, and well it was that they did so, for the 
 task which awaited them on the morrow was a 
 hard one. After repeated consultations with 
 the burgomaster, which ended invariably, on his 
 part, with an entreaty that we would not think 
 of an enterprise so Quixotic as crossing Schnee- 
 Koppee at this early season, and without a 
 guide, we made up our minds to go in direct 
 opposition to his counsels, and after gaining 
 the summit, to descend by the other side, and 
 sleep at Schmiedeberg, or some other town in 
 Prussian Silesia. Just, albeit sharp and cut- 
 
168 
 
 GERMAN SLUGGISHNESS. 
 
 GERMAN SLUGGISHNESS. 
 
 169 
 
 ting, IS the aphorism of Madame de Stael, that 
 there is no country in the world where the 
 expression, "It is impossible," comes so fre- 
 quently into use as in Germany. Propose to a 
 German any undertaking which he has either 
 never tried, or which might break through his 
 every-day habits, and he will assure you that 
 the thing is not to be accomplished. Urge 
 him to increased exertions, or accelerated speed, 
 and he will tell you that to do more, or move 
 faster, is impracticable. And as to learning 
 any new method of performing a given task, be 
 it even the dressing of a dish for dinner, I ques- 
 tion whether you could prevail upon him to 
 attempt that by any influence short of positive 
 compulsion. Yet in war the Germans are an 
 enterprising people, and among the arts of 
 peace they can boast, with truth, that some of 
 the most important discoveries ever effected 
 were effected by their countrymen. How 
 strange that their domestic habits should be so 
 thoroughly in contradiction to such qualities as 
 enterprise in war and ingenuity in the applica- 
 tion of mechanics. 
 
 Of this strange predilection to create diffi- 
 
 culties for themselves and others, which, beyond 
 all doubt, attaches to the German character, 
 we were well aware ; and took, in consequence, 
 the burgomaster's cautions at little more than 
 they proved, in effect, to be worth. Some ob- 
 stacles, with a good deal of fatigue, we made 
 up our minds to encounter ; but, as the Duke 
 of Wellington said in his speech to the cadets 
 at Addiscombe,— a speech which I had the 
 good fortune to hear, and am not likely soon to 
 forget,— nothing great was ever accomplished 
 without labour ; and labour we were content 
 to bestow, and fatigue to endure, even in the 
 ascent of Schnee-Koppee. Accordingly at six 
 in the morning, and carrying the heir of the 
 hotel along with us, to point out the direct 
 path through a forest, which it was necessary 
 to thread, we sallied forth ; and by seven were 
 once more left to our own guidance, with the 
 steep but grassy side of one of the ramifications 
 of the mountain under our feet. 
 
 I shall never forget, to my dying day, the 
 effect produced upon me by the first half of 
 this ascent. The day was as bright and beau- 
 tiful as ever shone out of heaven. Hot it 
 
 VOL. II. ^ 
 
 i m 
 

 170 
 
 ASCENT OF 
 
 SCHNEE-KOPPEE. 
 
 171 
 
 was, but not intensely so, for the sun's power 
 was yet trivial ; and as the winds were hushed, 
 except when from time to time a light breeze 
 rustled among the foliage of the pine-woods, 
 the stillness that prevailed around struck me 
 as something quite sublime. In proportion as 
 we rose, likewise, above the level of the valley, 
 every sight and sound appeared to acquire a 
 new charm. Beneath were wreaths of mist, 
 rolling themselves slowly up the sides of the 
 opposite mountains. Under their canopy vil- 
 lages and hamlets were reposing, from the 
 chimneys of which long thin streaks of smoke 
 curled upwards as if to join the cloud ; while 
 here and there a solitary cottage, a chapel, and 
 even a gilt crucifix, gleamed to peculiar advan- 
 tage from its own quiet nook. I have spoken 
 of the silence as being quite sublime. Not that 
 it was unbroken ; for up the mountain's side 
 came, by fits and starts, the tinkling of the 
 bells, which in this country are suspended to the 
 necks of the cattle when they are feeding ; in- 
 termixed with an occasional whoop, or snatch 
 of a song, or merry whistle from the cow- 
 herd ; while the branches over-head, — for we 
 
 sat down in the skirts of a low pine wood,— 
 were crowded with little birds, whose sweet 
 but not loud notes completed one of the most 
 exquisite concerts to which, in any part of the 
 world, I have ever listened. And then the 
 landscape,— what a picture was there. Bold 
 conical hills, sweUing one over another like 
 waves of the sea, overtopped and looked down 
 upon a succession of valleys, each more strik- 
 ing, both for richness and beauty, than the 
 first; and forming altogether such a scene as 
 must be witnessed to be felt, or even under- 
 stood. 
 
 We could not spare much time to repose, 
 
 even in such a situation as this ; so we quitted 
 our lairs, not without regret, and plodded on- 
 wards. The whole day's journey was, as may 
 be imagined, interesting in the extreme. Be- 
 fore us was the peak of Schnee-Koppee, sharp, 
 to all appearance, as the apex of a bee-hive, yet 
 supporting a round tower, which we understood 
 
 the burgomaster to have described as a chapel. 
 
 Round this peak large fields of snow were 
 
 lying, but the summit itself seemed clear. 
 
 This pleased us exceedingly; indeed, every step 
 
 I 2 
 
It 
 
 i!-«*lS 
 
 172 
 
 KLEINE OUPA. 
 
 KLEINE OUPA. 
 
 173 
 
 which we took in advance helped to dispel a 
 portion of the gloom in which our host had 
 endeavoured to envelope the enterprise; for 
 though there was no path, points of observa- 
 tion could everywhere be taken; and the 
 woods, of the depths and horrors of which he 
 had spoken so much, all proved easy of passage. 
 On, therefore, we tramped, nothing doubting, 
 till, after repeated dips and renewed ascents, 
 each of which opened out to us fresh glories, 
 some of them almost, but not quite equal, to 
 those that lay behind, we arrived, about twelve 
 o'clock, at the village of Kleine Oupa ; the 
 most elevated of all the spots on which, in this 
 country of Bohemia, men have ventured to 
 establish their permanent dwellings; and 
 raised, I should conceive, little, if at all, short 
 of four thousand feet above the level of the sea. 
 For round them, in patches, among the stunted 
 firs, the snow was still lying ; even while the 
 sun beat warmly overhead, and thin crops of 
 i.ye,_the only grain fit to be cultivated at such 
 a height from the plain,— seemed advancing to 
 
 perfection. 
 
 Kleine Oupa is rather a hamlet than a vil- 
 
 H 
 
 ¥t 
 
 lage It contains, perhaps, thirty houses, of 
 which one is a parsonage,— for there is a 
 church,— one a school-house, one a caserne, in 
 which a party of jagers are quartered, and 
 one which fulfils the two-fold duty of mill and 
 gasthof. To this latter we bent our steps, and 
 found in its tap-room rather better than the 
 customary fare, that is to say, good white bread, 
 as well as eggs and butter. These furnished 
 forth, for hungry travellers like us, an excel- 
 lent dinner; at the completion of which our 
 journey recommenced, not to be delayed again, 
 except for a brief space, at remote intervals, 
 till we had accomplished the avowed object of 
 
 our excursion. 
 
 Nobody can have climbed a mountain so 
 high as even the loftiest in the highlands of 
 Scotland, without observing the effect upon 
 vegetation of the increasing severity of the 
 climate as you approach the top. The last 
 forest, worthy of the name, though which we 
 passed this day, overhung Kleine Oupa; and 
 even the remoter portions of it were stunted 
 and unhealthy. Next came the ascent of what 
 is called Swartzen-Koppee ; that is, of a long 
 
174 
 
 SWARTZEN-KOPPEE. 
 
 black table-land, overtopping, by a consider- 
 able altitude, the rest of the mountains near, 
 but still far beneath the level of Schnee-Koj}- 
 pee. Here vegetation entirely ceased. First, 
 there were some straggling firs, the uppermost 
 branches of which reached to my middle. 
 Then there was heath in abundance, out of 
 which we scared an enormous black cock ; and 
 finally, there was the bare brown rock, un- 
 clothed even with moss, and lying about in 
 fragments, as if a thousand sledge-hammers had 
 been employed for a century, in the vain 
 endeavour to flatten or beat down the moun- 
 tain. Here, then, we paused to look round, 
 and had the day been propitious, we should 
 have probably obtained as fine a view as from 
 the peak of Schnee-Koppee himself. But, as 
 almost always happens when you have travelled 
 far to ascend a mountain, the atmosphere had 
 become thick and foggy; so that our vision 
 was bounded by limits far more narrow than 
 we had flattered ourselves with finding. Still 
 the panorama was very fine, and we enjoyed it 
 much; after which, having Schnee-Koppee 
 himself before us, we pushed on. 
 
 AN ADVENTUEE. 
 
 175 
 
 We had been obliged to pass a barrier or two 
 of snow, in order to reach Swartzen-Koppee ; 
 but the snow was perfectly firm, and we suf- 
 fered no inconvenience from it. The valley 
 between Swartzen-Koppee and the peak beyond 
 was quite clear; neither did a single flake rest 
 upon the indistinct track, which the feet of 
 travellers has, in the course of ages, marked up 
 the face of the stony ridge which is called 
 Schnee-Koppee. We therefore entered upon 
 the task of ascending cheerfully, and found 
 that there were no real difficulties to overcome. 
 But we met with a little adventure, if such it 
 deserves to be called, which appeared at the 
 moment to be curious, and which has not yet 
 lost all its interest with us. We were mis- 
 taken in supposing that we should be the first 
 of this year's tourists to stand upon the top of 
 Schnee-Koppee. Other wayfarers had been 
 before us, and we saw them now descending in 
 such a direction as to ensure our falling in with 
 them during our upward progress. They 
 proved to be three Dutch gentlemen, with a 
 guide, who had come direct through Silesia from 
 Schandau, and were able to tell us, when they 
 
176 
 
 TOWER ON SCHNEE-KOPPEE. 
 
 COMMENCE OUR DESCENT. 
 
 177 
 
 discovered "who we were, that a few days pre- 
 viously our friends at the baths were all alive 
 and well. I need scarcely add that we stopped 
 and chatted together, and finally parted as if 
 we had been acquaintances of ten years' stand- 
 ing ; for your bleak mountain's brow, like your 
 cabin of an Edinburgh steam-ship, is an admir- 
 able concoctor of mushroom intimacies. 
 
 Having parted from our friends, not, how- 
 ever, without receiving from them some useful 
 hints as to the descent into Silesia, we pro- 
 ceeded on, till we gained the loftiest peak of 
 all. It is a huge cairn of loose stones, among 
 which an innkeeper from Warmbrunn has built 
 a tower; whither in the summer months he 
 conveys food, wine, and beds, for all of which 
 he, as may be expected, charges enormously. 
 We had a pint of indifferent Rhine wine from 
 him, which cost us a dollar, and we purchased 
 a couple of long sticks, for which we paid 
 twenty groschens more. But we were not in- 
 duced, by his suggestions that sunrise and sun- 
 set were both exceeding glorious when watched 
 from such a situation, to spend the night under 
 his roof. On the contrary, after looking about 
 
 us only to ascertain that the view, intercepted 
 by the fog, was not to be compared with what 
 we had seen in the morning, we wished him 
 farewell ; and, beholding at our feet the town 
 of Warmbrunn, we plunged down towards it. 
 
 The ascent had been tolerably fatiguing; the 
 descent was scarcely less so ; and it proved to 
 the full as tedious. The snow lay in extensive 
 fields, to cross which occasioned a good deal of 
 trouble, and when that was accomplished, we 
 found ourselves diving through the heart of a 
 thick forest. A road there certainly was, but 
 whither it would lead us we could not tell ; and 
 though the glimpses which, from time to time, 
 we obtained of the bold corries that indent the 
 Silesian sides of the mountains, were uncom- 
 monly grand, we became, by degrees, too tired 
 to enjoy them fully. Vainly, too, did we look 
 about for some one to direct us aright. Two 
 or three cottages, just under the cone, were the 
 only haunts of men which we passed in our 
 progress from the top to the bottom ; and the 
 solitary individual who met us,— a youth with 
 a heavy burden on his back,— seemed to be a 
 stranger. He could not tell us how to proceed, 
 
 I 3 
 
179 
 
 178 
 
 REACH A VILLAGE. 
 
 SO we were left to push at a venture towards 
 the point where we believed that Warmbrunn 
 lay, though our sole guide was the indistinct 
 remembrance of the observations which we had 
 taken from the summit of the hill. 
 
 It is not worth while to relate how pro- 
 vokingly we missed our way, or to describe the 
 resolution which urged us at last to pass di- 
 rectly through the wood. The latter movement 
 proved to be, in one respect, a judicious one ; 
 for it carried us to the plane in a much shorter 
 space of time than must have been consumed 
 had we persisted in following the pathway. 
 But it cut us off, for that night, from Warm- 
 brunn ; for we discovered, to our horror, that 
 the place towards which our eyes had been 
 directed from the moment they were permitted 
 to penetrate the thick screen of branches, was 
 not Warmbrunn, but a village, six English miles 
 removed from it. There, however, in such a 
 hotel as it could furnish, we were glad to pass 
 the night ; and if our fare proved somewhat 
 homely, our beds were clean, and we slept like 
 tops. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 WARMBRUNN.-THE OBJECTS AROUNB.-A ^^^^^^^^- 
 HIKBCHBER.>.-H0W TRAVELLERS MAY MANAGE WHEN 
 THEIR PURSES GROW LIGHT-PASS FOR RUSSIANS, AND 
 PERIVE GREAT BENEFIT FROM THE ARRANGEMENT.- 
 LANG-WASSER.-GREIFFENBERG.-~THE PRUSSIAN LAND- 
 WEHR.^OLDEN TRAUM.-SCENE IN THE VILLAGE INN. 
 -BERNSTADT.-HERNHUT.-THE HERN HUTERS. -SYS- 
 
 TEM OF AGRICULTURE IN BOHEMIA.-SCHLUKENAU.- 
 
 SCHANDAU. 
 
 We rose next morning at our usual hour, five 
 o'clock, and having eaten our breakfast, and 
 paid our bill, set out on the road to Warm- 
 brunn. The latter place, which though nomi- 
 nally a mere viUage, has about it the air and 
 general appearance of a first-rate country-town, 
 can boast of a handsome schloss in its principal 
 street, the residence of Count Schaff-Koatch. 
 It is distant from Phthedorf, the viUage where 
 we slept, about an hour and a half's walk, and 
 can furnish excellent quarters at the Black 
 Eagle for travellers, who, not being in a hurry, 
 may desire to investigate the many curious and 
 
180 
 
 A DILEMMA. 
 
 OUR FISHING TACKLE. 
 
 181 
 
 interesting objects which abound in the neigh- 
 bourhood. For this province of Silesia is par- 
 ticularly rich in the ruins of old castles, one of 
 which, likewise the property of Count Schaff- 
 Koatch, occupies a very striking position on a 
 projecting rock at the foot of Schnee-Koppee. 
 Before us, however, these, and sundry allure- 
 ments of a similar description, poured out their 
 sweets in vain. There was no lack of inclina- 
 tion to linger in the vicinity certainly ; indeed, 
 it had formed part of our plan to do so ; but 
 the diminished weight of our purse led us, 
 while sipping a little wine in the coffee-room 
 of the above-named excellent hotel, to examine 
 into the state of our finances, and we ascer- 
 tained, to our horror, that we were worth no 
 more than six-and-thirty swanzekers,— that is, 
 eight Prussian dollars,— or, computing by the 
 standard of English money, just one pound, 
 four shillings. Now when it is considered that 
 we were at least a hundred miles from home, 
 that in every sense of the word we were in the 
 land of strangers, acquainted but imperfectly 
 with the language of the people about us, and 
 totally unknown to high or low, it will easily be 
 
 understood that we did not feel perfectly at 
 ease, whatever course might be adopted, and 
 saw, at once, that to delay our march even for 
 the laudable purpose of inspecting the fine 
 ruin near us, would be an act of madness. 
 When, therefore, the landlord, with the civility 
 of his craft and country, urged us to halt, were 
 it only for a single day, I told him frankly how 
 we were situated, adding, that we had wandered 
 about for a longer period of time than we had 
 allotted for the purpose, and must now hurry 
 home as fast as possible.' 
 
 Previous to this interesting conversation, and 
 ere the condition of our funds had been fully 
 ascertained, the appearance of a most promising 
 river, which flows beside Warmbrunn, had 
 tempted us to put together our rods ; and we 
 were axjtually preparing, after beds and supper 
 should have been ordered, to set out for a day's 
 fishing. The appearance of the rods created 
 here the same sort of astonishment which had 
 been called forth by them elsewhere ; and we 
 of course gratified the natives still more by 
 exhibiting our lines and flies. I observed that 
 mine host had been prodigiously smitten with 
 
 ]\ 
 
% 
 
 182 
 
 OUR host's offer. 
 
 START FOR HIRSCHBERG. 
 
 183 
 
 my rod. He took it up, wielded it in all man- 
 ner of ways, and pronounced it to be the most 
 perfect thing of the kind that ever was seen ; 
 nay, he even questioned me, indirectly, as to 
 the amount of money which would be de- 
 manded for such an article in England, and 
 when I told him, pronounced that I had made 
 an excellent bargain. No great while elapsed 
 ere decisive proofs were afforded, that his was 
 no barren admiration. " You are in want of 
 money," said he, « I will buy your rod." I 
 hardly know how I looked when this propo- 
 sition came forth with all imaginable solemnity, 
 but I made haste to decline it, and he had too 
 much native good breeding to press his sug- 
 
 gestion. 
 
 He was a civil man, and in offering to pur- 
 chase my fishing-rod, meant to do me a kind- 
 ness, while, at the same time, he gratified him- 
 self; so I gave him a fly, with which he was 
 greatly delighted ; I told him likewise how to 
 use it. But if my unfortunate fly has smce 
 come into play, at the end of such a Une and 
 such a rod as the keeper of the Black Eagle 
 produced, I am quite sure that it has caught no 
 
 fish, if, indeed, it be not long ago « fathoms 
 deep" under water. One of Mrs. Finn's red 
 hackles would cut but a sorry figure as an ap- 
 pendage to some six yards of whip-cord, more 
 especially after the said whip-cord should have 
 been fastened, as my friend's was, to the extre- 
 mity of a hazel wand, as thick and inflexible 
 as the horn of a roebuck. 
 
 With us, however, the great question was, 
 not whether the host of the Black Eagle was 
 ever likely to become an expert fly-fisher ; but 
 how, with our scanty means, we were to reach 
 Schandau, and at the same time, pay a visit to 
 Hernhut, one of the principal points of obser- 
 vation which we had in view from the outset 
 The landlord assured us that we need be under 
 no apprehensions, that a diligence went every 
 day from Hirschbcrg, the chief town of the 
 circle, which was distant from Warmbrunn not 
 more than an hour's walk, and that we should 
 both be conveyed to Hernhut, that is to say, 
 sixty-five English miles of road, for the sum of 
 three dollars at the utmost. This was cheering 
 intelligence enough, but could we depend upon 
 it? We feared not, and it was well for us that 
 

 184 
 
 SILESIAN SCENERY. 
 
 HIRSCHBERG. 
 
 185 
 
 we listened to the advice of prudence, rather 
 than to the whispers of inclination. We 
 thanked him for the information which he had 
 given us, paid our bill, and marched off to 
 ascertain, at the post-office in Hirschberg itself, 
 how far it might or might not be authentic. 
 
 Though the route from Warmbrunn to Hirsch- 
 berg conducted us over a dusty main-road, and 
 the heat of the day was overpowering, we could 
 not help stopping, from time to time, to look 
 back upon the magnificent scene which we 
 were leaving behind us. Viewed from this 
 side, the Riesengebirgen offer a much bolder 
 and grander outline than when looked at from 
 Bohemia. Here, the mountains, instead of 
 forming the back-ground and termination to 
 numerous lesser ranges, spring, sheer and abrupt, 
 out of the plain, and when loaded, as they hap- 
 pened to be to-day, with a bank of white clouds, 
 which obscured none of their features, but 
 seemed to nestle on the snow along their sum- 
 mits, the effect is altogether so sublime as to 
 defy either pen or pencil to describe it. It was 
 not without a sense of bitter mortification that 
 we felt ourselves compelled to flee, as it were, 
 
 from objects so enticing, of which our parting 
 glances showed us that we had not seen half 
 the beauties, and which we were destined, in 
 all human probability, never to behold again. 
 
 We reached Hirschberg about noon, and found 
 it to be both a larger and a more bustling place 
 than any which, in the course of our rambles, 
 we had yet visited. An old wall, with towers 
 at intervals, though in ruins, encircles it, and it 
 can boast of several churches, and a still greater 
 number of spires. The streets are narrow, and 
 the houses lofty, as is the case in almost all 
 places which are or have been fortified; and 
 the population appears to be dense. But our 
 stay in it was too brief to permit our making 
 any minute inquiries into their mode of employ- 
 ing themselves, though we could perceive, from 
 the clumsy buildings which here and there over- 
 hung the river, that there was some sort of a 
 manufactory in the town. 
 
 We made, at once, for the post-office, an 
 establishment very different, in all respects, 
 from that at Gabel, where functionaries, in the 
 Prussian uniform, received us with great civility, 
 and gave us the information of which we stood 
 
186 
 
 HIRSCHBERG. 
 
 in need. It was by no means so satisfactory as 
 we had been led to anticipate ; indeed, we found 
 on calculating the amount, that our seats in the 
 diligence, as far as Hernhut, would sweep away 
 the whole of our disposable stock, with the 
 exception, I think, of a dollar and a half. 
 Now, as the diligences never hurry themselves 
 in Germany, any more than other people, 
 twenty hours would be required to perform the 
 journey to Hernhut, during which we could 
 not very conveniently fast ; and after all, when 
 Hernhut was gained, we should still be forty 
 long English miles from home. What was to 
 be done? We looked at one another ruefully 
 enough for a moment, then burst into a hearty 
 laugh, and adjourning to an inn hard by, ordered 
 dinner. We ate it with excellent appetites, 
 though our only beverage was beer, and made 
 up our minds to work our way on foot, while, 
 like prudent people, we regulated our style of 
 living according to the standard of our finances. 
 There was seated in the room of the hotel, 
 into which we were ushered, a well-dressed 
 man, evidently a traveller like ourselves, but 
 one who travelled by some public conveyance 
 
 RECEIVE SOME USEFUL ADVICE. 
 
 187 
 
 We entered into conversation with him, of 
 course, and ascertained that he was a Hem- 
 huter. What the term Hernhuter means, I 
 shall find an opportunity to explain by-and- 
 by ; but at present my business is with the indi- 
 vidual. To this gentleman, as soon as we had 
 felt our way a little, I explained the precise 
 nature of our situation, and consulted him both 
 as to the route which it would be advisable to 
 follow, and the probability of our stock hold- 
 ing out till we should arrive at our journey's 
 end. A route he gave us cheerfully. We were 
 to proceed as far as GreifFenberg that night, 
 that is to say, twenty-one miles beyond Hirsch- 
 berg. Next day, we might reach Lowenberg, 
 which was twenty-four miles further ; and the 
 third day, after compassing about as many more, 
 we should find ourselves in Hernhut. 
 
 « All this is very plain," said I, " but you 
 forget the state of our finances. How are we 
 two to exist for three days on seven dollars and 
 a-half? and remember that, at Hernhut, we 
 are two good marches from Schandau." 
 
 " You will exist very well," replied our 
 acquaintance, " if you will only act with pru- 
 
. ,'■« 
 
 188 
 
 PASS FOR 
 
 dence. Don't let people know that you are 
 Englishmen ; for the most honest man among 
 us considers it quite fair to charge an English- 
 man at least one-third more for everything than 
 he charges a German." 
 
 We thanked him heartily for this hint ; and 
 having paid for our dinner the odd half dollar, 
 we resumed our progress with exactly seven of 
 these precious coins in our pockets. 
 
 We had compassed nine good miles already ; 
 and under any other circumstances than the 
 present, should have as soon thought of flying 
 to Schandau through the air, as of marching 
 one-and-twenty more ; but as the old proverb 
 expresses it, " Necessity has no law." Every 
 approach of fatigue was accordingly resisted by 
 the aid of reflection ; which suggested, truly 
 enough, that to loiter, would involve us in diffi- 
 culties and embarrassments, which, however 
 transient they might be, could not fail of 
 annoying us while they operated. But as we 
 drew towards Greiffenberg, we remembered 
 that it had been described as a large and thriv- 
 ing town, and a large and thriving town, we con- 
 ceived, would not suit with the low condition 
 
 RUSSIANS. 
 
 189 
 
 ■m 
 
 of our exchequer. We accordingly resolved 
 to Stop short at some village a mile or two on 
 this side of it; and at a place called Lang- 
 Wasser, we found precisely the sort of hotel of 
 which we were in search. It was just one 
 degree elevated above a pot-house; and its 
 owner contrived to accommodate us with a 
 chamber to ourselves. Here, then, in the cha- 
 racter of Russians, we fixed our head-quarters, 
 and right well and cheaply we fared and were 
 
 attended to. 
 
 I have nothing to say about Lang- Wasser, 
 except that it is a small straggling township, of 
 which the keeper of our hotel was the burgo- 
 master; and that the great majority of the 
 inhabitants being Roman Catholics, a Romish 
 priest was in possession of the benefice. I 
 found, likewise, that there prevailed among his 
 flock, that attachment to their own communion 
 which the Roman Catholics are never ashamed 
 to avow, even though it may subject them to 
 the charge of bigotry. One of the first ques- 
 tions put to us was, whether we were Catholics? 
 and on our taking advantage of the equivoque, 
 and replying in the aflSrmative, the tongues of 
 
190 
 
 ADVANTAGES OF 
 
 the whole family seemed to be loosed. They 
 had no predilection for the creed, or the 
 worship, or the persons of their evangelical 
 neighbours. How different, in this respect, has. 
 been the bearing of all among the Protestant 
 population of Prussia with whom I have con- 
 versed. If the subject of religion chanced to 
 be introduced at all,— and unless introduced by 
 me, this never once happened, — it was treated 
 as something not only not interesting to the 
 feelings of the speaker, but of the power of 
 which to excite an interest in anybody, he 
 could form no notion. Is it not a pity that, 
 under a government avowedly Protestant, such 
 a line of policy should be taken up, as to root 
 out all zeal for the truth, among such as profess 
 to be its followers, while the followers of error 
 continue enthusiastically attached to it ? 
 
 We fared well that night, both as to eating 
 and sleeping. Our supper was excellent, our 
 beds clean, and the charge for the whole barely 
 two shillings,— a practical illustration of the 
 soundness of the advice which we had received 
 from our friendly Hernhuter. It was difficult, 
 indeed, to conceive how, even in Silesia, the 
 
 CUE PLAN. 
 
 191 
 
 people could aflford to treat us as they did, for 
 
 so small a sum. Yet we paid our bill without 
 
 expressing, even by a careless word, that its 
 
 amount surprised us ; and restrained our very 
 
 mirth till a turn in the road placed us beyond 
 
 the hazard of being detected in its indulgence. 
 
 There had been a considerable fall of rain 
 
 while w^e slept ; so that at seven o'clock in the 
 
 morning, when our march began, we had every 
 
 prospect before us of a pleasant journey. There 
 
 was no dust to annoy; the hedge-rows, on 
 
 either hand, (for it must be remembered that, 
 
 in all the states of Germany, the highways are 
 
 planted, at the expense of the government, 
 
 with a double row of trees,) sent forth an 
 
 unceasing concert of sweet sounds, and the 
 
 very people whom we met, seemed by their 
 
 joyous countenances to confess the influence of 
 
 the balmy atmosphere. And by the way, I 
 
 must not forget to observe, that the costumes 
 
 of the country people, both male and female, 
 
 had varied a good deal since we commenced 
 
 our ramble. In the neighbourhood of Tetchen, 
 
 the smock-frock made its appearance among 
 
 wagoners and even labouring men, while the 
 
192 
 
 SILESIAN COSTUME. 
 
 women wore, as in Saxony, short bodice 
 jackets with long skirts, red or red and white 
 striped petticoats, and round their heads either 
 a flaring red handkerchief, or a cap adorned 
 behind with two enormous flies. As we pene- 
 trated further into Bohemia, the smock-frock 
 among the men gave place to a cloth or vel- 
 vetine jacket, and the cap was supplanted by a 
 coarse steeple-crowned hat. It strikes me that 
 the female portion of the community exhibited 
 less love of change, till we reached Silesia; 
 and then I looked twice before I could persuade 
 myself, that Queen Elizabeth, and the dames 
 and virgins of her day, were not returned to 
 upper air. Long waists, with hips famously 
 padded, reduced the shapes of such as had any 
 shape, to the symmetry of a wasp, while round 
 their necks were enormous, stiflfly-starched 
 ruffs, which stuck out so far, and rose so high, 
 as to give to the red, round, blowsy faces which 
 protruded over them, a tolerably exact resem- 
 blance to so many field-turnips. More comical- 
 looking animals I have rarely seen, though they 
 were evidently of a different opinion. 
 
 We passed through Greiffenberg about eight 
 
 GREIFFENBERG. 
 
 193 
 
 I 
 
 'I' 
 
 o'clock, and found it by no means the formidable 
 sort of place which our fears, — ^the offspring of 
 our poverty, — ^had represented it to be. An old 
 town, built irregularly along the side of a hill, 
 it seems to possess neither trade nor manufac- 
 tures ; indeed, a flour-mill or two, planted by 
 the river's side, sufficiently marked it out as 
 the head of a purely agricultural district. The 
 view from the eminence above, is, however, 
 exceedingly fine. Sweeping over a vast and 
 fertile plain, throughout which abundance of 
 wood is scattered, and resting from time to 
 time upon some old ruin, one of which, called 
 Kreifenstein Castle, and the property of GrafF 
 Schaff*-Koatch, presents a peculiarly striking 
 appearance, the eye finds its powers of vision 
 bounded at last by the Riesengebirgen, which 
 have as yet lost no portion of the sublimity of 
 character that belongs to them, though they 
 are now removed to a distance, as the crow 
 flies, of at least twenty miles. We took what 
 we suspected would prove to be our last dis- 
 tinct view of the magnificent range, not 
 without experiencing a portion of that melan- 
 choly which never fails to arise out of a lasting 
 
 VOL. II. K 
 
s\ 
 
 194 
 
 THE PRUSSIAN LANDWEHR. 
 
 THE PRUSSIAN LANDWEHR. 
 
 195 
 
 separation even from inanimate objects, which 
 may have gratified our tastes, or interested our 
 imaginations. 
 
 We had met on the road as we trudged 
 along, several small parties of soldiers ; twos 
 and threes, belonging to the landwehr, or 
 militia of the country, of which the season for 
 training was arrived. This was not, however, 
 the commencement of our acquaintance with 
 that remarkably fine-looking body of men. 
 While we lingered in Hirschberg, doubtful 
 what course to pursue, there marched past the 
 window of the hotel about two hundred as 
 superb infantry as I should desire to see ; stout, 
 well-made, soldier-like fellows, in the full vigour 
 of manhood, well bearded and moustached, and 
 altogether presenting the appearance of men 
 who had served at least half-a-dozen campaigns, 
 and were ready to serve half-a-dozen more. 
 Their uniform resembled that of the Prussian 
 infantry in general ; that is to say, they wore 
 blue, well-made coats, white trousers, chacos 
 with small round white tufts, and hairy knap- 
 sacks on their backs. Their muskets were 
 longer, and smaller in the bore than ours, and 
 
 t 
 
 the barrels were fastened to the stocks by brass 
 rings that encircled them. Nothing could 
 exceed the order or regularity of their move- 
 ments: their step, it struck me, was shorter 
 than ours, but then it fell more rapidly; their 
 equipments were decidedly neater; and above 
 all, the load which each man carried was much 
 less considerable. In one respect, however, 
 and only in one, we have an advantage over 
 them. They still adhere to the practice of 
 carrying a large camp-kettle for each mess^ 
 whereas our tins sufiice both for cooking and 
 containing the meat when cooked, and with 
 one of these each man is supplied. 
 
 I have elsewhere explained the process by 
 which every male inhabitant of Prussia becomes, 
 in some shape or another, available for the 
 military defence of the country. I need not 
 now recur to the subject, further than by 
 stating, that I have seen no portion of what is 
 called the regular army, which would bear a 
 moment's comparison with the half-battalion 
 of landwehr, that passed me in the streets 
 of Hirschberg. Neither is the circumstance 
 greatly to be wondered at. Out of the two or 
 
 K 2 
 
196 
 
 THE PRUSSIAN LANDWEHR, 
 
 LOSE OUR WAY. 
 
 197 
 
 
 three hundred men which composed that corps, 
 one-half, perhaps, had done active duty, ere the 
 new system of recruiting was introduced ; when 
 the term of service extended to fifteen instead 
 of three years; and individuals were not, as 
 they are now, turned over to the landwehr, 
 with a military education still unfinished, and 
 in many cases scarcely begun. The conse- 
 quences were, that their carriage was more 
 upright, their air more martial, and their style 
 of march more orderly by far, than anything 
 which I had an opportunity of observing, even 
 •in the garrison of Berlin. Something, too, is 
 perhaps attributable to the more advanced ages 
 of the landwehr. No one dislikes to see a 
 frequent intermixture of beardless faces, either 
 in a line or in a column; but an entire bat- 
 talion of boys is not satisfactory. Now these 
 men were in the full strength and vigour of 
 their days. Their countenances were well 
 bronzed, their moustachios rough, and the very 
 dust that enveloped them told nothing against 
 the general hardihood of their bearing. I 
 looked upon them with unqualified respect, and 
 said to my young companion, that if all the 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 landwehr regiments be composed of similar 
 materials, Prussia can have nothing to appre- 
 hend from any hostile movement on the part 
 either of Austria, or of France. 
 
 We had received a route, as usual, from our 
 host at Langwasser, and corrected it in some 
 trifling particulars, at the suggestion of a turn- 
 pike keeper,— an old soldier, as in Prussia these 
 functionaries usually are, and a fine-looking, 
 well-bred, and intelligent fellow. Among other 
 places, we were to make, by the way, for a 
 village called Golden Traum, where, as we 
 hoped to reach it about noon, we proposed to 
 eat our dinner. But we did not succeed in 
 this point. Having been misdirected at an 
 unlucky turn in a wood where two roads 
 branched off from one another, we found our- 
 selves, after an hour's toil, further from Golden 
 Traum than ever, and were forced, not to 
 retrace our steps, but to make our way as 
 we best could, across the country, in order to 
 reach it. We came in, accordingly, tired and 
 somewhat out of humour, at one o'clock, to 
 a poor but clean village beer-house, where 
 the only viands produceable, were brown bread. 
 
198 
 
 GOLDEN TRAUM. 
 
 butter, and sausages, a considerable quantity 
 of which disappeared before persons whose 
 appetites were a great deal too keen to be 
 fastidious. 
 
 The situation of Golden Traum, overhanging 
 the rocky and well-wooded bank of the river 
 Queiss, is exceedingly striking, and the stream, 
 being clear and rapid, held out to us the pros- 
 pect of good sport. Encouraged, therefore, by 
 the remembrance of the moderate charges at 
 Langwasser, we resolved to spend the re- 
 mainder of the day here, provided our landlady 
 could accommodate us with beds, and fare a 
 little more delicate for supper. With respect 
 to the latter of these points, it was soon 
 and satisfactorily settled. We had our choice 
 of beef and veal, and we chose of course veal's 
 elder brother : but the report of the dormitory 
 was not so satisfactory. There was no spare 
 chamber in the house, but they would make 
 up for us a couple of beds, with mattrasses, 
 sheets, &c., in the tap-room ; and they assured 
 us, that it would be entirely at our command 
 by ten o'clock at the latest. As my companion 
 appeared to think these dispositions excellent, 
 
 FISHING IN THE QUEISS. 
 
 199 
 
 and spoke vehemently in favour of the day's 
 fishing, I consented to halt. ' We consigned 
 our baggage to the care of the landlady, put 
 our tackle in order, and descended to the 
 
 stream. 
 
 Like many other things in creation, the 
 Queiss was far from realizing the expectations 
 which its flattering appearance had excited. 
 There was little water in the channel, and that 
 little contained few trout ; but roach were there 
 in abundance. Now a roach, either at the end 
 of my line or on the table, happens to be my 
 aversion, and finding that I was perpetually de- 
 ceived by the avidity with which the scaly 
 monsters seized my fly, I soon wound up. Not 
 so my boy. With the most laudable perseve- 
 rance he continued to flog the water, much to 
 the detriment of the roach tribe ; one of which, 
 by the way, proved, when he brought him 
 ashore, to be the largest of his species I had 
 ever seen. The monster must have weighed a 
 pound and a half at the least. But this was 
 not all. Towards evening the trout began to 
 show themselves, and the young Piscator caused 
 some havoc among them. He caught about a 
 
200 
 
 SCRIPTURE PAINTINGS. 
 
 MISERABLE SUPPER. 
 
 201 
 
 dozen, the heaviest of which might have well 
 nigh passed muster either at Troiitenau or 
 Eisenhammer. 
 
 ^ We had been interrupted in our sport by a 
 thunder-storm ; the reverberations of which, as 
 peal after peal smote against rock and fell, 
 were very fine. The rain, however, which came 
 down in torrents, was not quite so agreeable, 
 and forced lis to seek shelter in a mill, where 
 I was a good deal amused by the sort of taste 
 which the honest miller had displayed in orna- 
 menting his best apartment. The walls were 
 stuck round with engravings, one of which 
 represented Jonah in two situations: first, 
 smoking a pipe by the seaside, and afterwards 
 working his way out of a huge fish's jaws ; while 
 close beside him was a ship, considerably less in 
 point of size than the prophet. As to Nineveh, 
 it stood upon a rock in the middle of the ocean, 
 and had all its houses covered with bright red 
 tiles. But that was nothing. There were seve- 
 ral portraits of distinguished public characters 
 here ; and among others, Hawser Trunnion, a 
 British admiral. I must say that the old com- 
 modore looked uncommonly well, with his 
 
 *« 
 
 U 
 
 flowing wig, just as Smollett describes it, and a 
 pipe in his mouth. 
 
 We had ordered supper at seven ; at half- 
 past seven we reached the hotel, and found the 
 meal ready. Alas ! however, for the results of 
 having issued our orders somewhat hastily. 
 Instead of a substantial piece of roast beef, a 
 basin of soup was placed before each, to which 
 succeeded, sans potatoes, sans greens, sans any 
 other vegetables of any sort, two small morsels 
 of bouillie, boiled to tatters. We were not,, 
 however, to be put off with such sorry fare as 
 this, so we begged our landlady to dress for 
 us some of the fish which we had taken ; and 
 she set about it immediately. But long be- 
 fore the fish were ready, a multitude of new 
 guests came pouring in, and we found our- 
 selves in a situation which exceedingly amused 
 us for a while, though in the end it grew 
 tiresome. 
 
 The character of Russians had never sat 
 upon us very easily. We were constantly 
 afraid lest some one should address us in the 
 Russian language, and we fancied that a de- 
 mand for our passports, which might come at 
 
 K 3 
 
202 
 
 SCENE IN THE TAP-ROOM 
 
 any moment, must inevitably convict us of an 
 imposture. Seeing, therefore, that Golden 
 Traum wore a singularly modest air, we re- 
 sumed, on entering it, our proper lineage, and 
 never laid it aside again till we reached home. 
 Now, there happened to be in the village a 
 bouerman, who had served under Blucher at 
 Waterloo, and had seen, during the period of 
 the occupation of Paris, a good deal of the 
 English army. This man no sooner learned 
 that two Englishmen were arrived, than he not 
 only came himself, but brought all his neigh- 
 bours to pay their respects to us. There was 
 first the schoolmaster, a stout short man, highly 
 impressed with the idea of his own dignity, and 
 a determined smoker. There was the miller, 
 the smith, the butcher, the sexton, — everybody, 
 in short, who had a groschen or two to spend, 
 and a stock of curiosity to be gratified. Nor 
 * did they come alone. Their wives and children 
 followed them en masse, till the tap-room was 
 crowded. What could we do? To devour 
 our fish in the sight of the multitude, without 
 offering to share it with them, might have 
 impressed them with an unfavourable opinion 
 
 f 
 
 It 
 
 Ji 
 
 AT GOLDEN TRAUM. 
 
 203 
 
 of our country, while to afford even a morsel to 
 each individual present, would have required 
 thrice the amount cooked and even caught. 
 We therefore adopted a middle course, seldom 
 either a wise or a fortunate one, but in the 
 present instance the only course within our 
 reach. We distributed the trout among the 
 parties who had occupied seats at our table ; 
 and won the hearts of the old soldier and his 
 wife, the miller and his wife, the blacksmith 
 and his wife, with all their children; who, 
 seeing their mothers begin to eat, set up such 
 a clamour that we were fain to hand over for 
 their use all the bones, with such portions of 
 flesh as chanced to adhere to them. Then fol- 
 lowed sundry small flasks of schnaps, some cans 
 of beer, and two or three bottles of sour 
 country wine; under the influence of which 
 the tap-room became, ere long, a scene of ex- 
 traordinary hilarity. The old soldier raved * 
 about the " guten Anglesisch soldaden," and 
 pronounced " der Hertoch von Wellington*" 
 worthy to take rank with Blucher himself. 
 This, of course, drew from me sundry compli- 
 ments to the valour and discipline of the Prus* 
 
204 
 
 SCENE IN 
 
 THE TAP-KOOM. 
 
 205 
 
 i! 
 
 1 1 
 
 sian army, till in a few minutes we were sworn 
 brothers. "The French! what could the 
 French do, or indeed all the world besides, 
 against the English and Prussians united, who 
 between them had restored peace to Europe, 
 and dethroned Buonaparte ;" but I am not 
 quite sure that we decided the question by 
 whom the battle of Waterloo was won, — a 
 matter concerning which my friend appeared 
 to be sensitive, and I, in the consciousness of 
 having fact to fall back upon, felt altogether 
 indifferent. 
 
 For an hour or two the scene was highly 
 diverting, though I cannot say that it had the 
 effect of confirming me in my opinions touch- 
 ing the constitutional sobriety of the German 
 people. The good folks round me drank like 
 fishes, and I must do the women the justice to 
 observe, that in this sort of exercise they were 
 by no means less alert than their husbands. 
 The method of proceeding was this : — ^To some 
 eight or ten persons a couple of liqueur glasses 
 were allotted. These being filled, a sip was 
 taken out of each, by the individuals who 
 appeared to preside over the destinies of the 
 
 bottle; they were then handed round, and 
 drank in portions till drained dry. No time 
 was, however, lost in replenishing them, so that 
 the fire was both brisk and well sustained. 
 Neither M^ere the courtesies of civilised life 
 omitted. At each separate sip the party sip- 
 ping pledged the whole company; so that on a 
 moderate computation, I had my health drunk 
 that night at least a hundred and fifty times. 
 
 Ten o'clock struck, but the joyous rout 
 exhibited no symptoms of moving; eleven 
 came, and still they sat. This was rather too 
 much of a good thing ; for we must needs be 
 a-foot by five in the morning, and we could not 
 lie down till the chamber should be cleared. 
 At last the schoolmaster, through the haze 
 which his beer, and schnaps, and tobacco-smoke, 
 had drawn around him, discovered that I was 
 yawning with some vehemence, and looking 
 tired. He accordingly rose, and suggested an 
 adjournment ; but his proposition was scouted. 
 They must have one bottle more, and they had 
 it ; another, and they had that too ; till I began 
 to fear that they meant to favour us, as I 
 recollect long ago favouring a delicate friend of 
 
206 
 
 INDIFFERENT LODGING. 
 
 GOLDEN TRAUM. 
 
 207 
 
 mine at College, — that is, to sit up with us till 
 the hour of march arrived, and then give us a 
 convoy. But the memory of my poor friend's 
 first letter, in which he described the misery of 
 a mail-coach journey to Bristol, after a sleepless 
 night, put me on my guard. I hinted that we 
 had all better get to bed, and my hint was 
 immediately taken. They went away in the 
 best humour possible, after repeatedly shaking 
 us by the hands, and wishing us all manner of 
 prosperity, both abroad and at home. 
 
 I should flatter the good landlady at Golden 
 Traum, if I were to say, that her beds were 
 either clean or comfortable. In fact, we did 
 not venture to undress ; and we were up punc- 
 tual to the moment which over-night we had 
 fixed upon as convenient for starting. Again, 
 however, the linen which we had committed to 
 the care of the washerwoman, was to seek, and 
 our journey, much to our chagrin, was delayed 
 till past seven. Meanwhile, we got from the 
 hostess as much information respecting her 
 neighbourhood as she had to communicate. 
 The appearance of the village had struck us, 
 on entering, as singular. The houses, instead 
 
 m^' 
 
 of wood, which is the material commonly used 
 in the construction of German villages, were 
 all built of brick, and they looked quite new. 
 Moreover, there was no church ; but only the 
 ruins of some walls and a tower standing. On 
 inquiring into the cause of all this, we learned, 
 that four years ago, during the heat of the 
 summer, when everything in the fields was 
 parched up, and the very rivers dry, some 
 woodmen incautiously set fire to the brushwood 
 in a neighbouring forest, and all the efforts to 
 extinguish it proved fr^frtless. The flame spread 
 for miles around, consuming heath, dry grass, 
 corn, and even trees, nor did the town of 
 Golden Traum escape. It was burned to the 
 ground, as well as all the detached cottages 
 near it. From the effects of this disastrous 
 conflagration, it had not yet, and probably 
 never would, recover. Some houses were, 
 indeed, built; and built of materials which 
 seemed better suited to withstand a similar 
 visitation, should it occur; but there were 
 no funds wherewith to restore the churoh, and 
 the lord of the manor was a great deal too 
 poor to undertake such an enterprise. "An 
 
li? 
 It- i 
 
 208 
 
 LEAVE GOLDEN TRAUM. 
 
 It ^ 
 
 application has, indeed, been made," continued 
 our informant, " to the authorities at Berlin, 
 and we hope some time or another to have a 
 new church; for we miss the bells sadly on 
 feast-days, and it is a pleasant thing once a 
 week to meet all one's neighbours, and see how f * 
 they are dressed. But for the present, our 
 pastor performs divine service in a room up- 
 stairs, and is not troubled with a crowded |^ 
 congregation." 
 
 It had rained hard during the night, and 
 showers still continued to fall early in the 
 morning, a circun>6tance which reconciled us, 
 not a little, to our compulsory halt of two 
 hours beyond our time. But by seven, the 
 clouds dispersed, and our linen being restored 
 and packed in our knapsacks, we begged to 
 have the bill. It amounted to no more, in 
 spite of all the beer and schnaps of the previ- 
 ous evening, than one dollar and four groschens. 
 Here, then, we were relieved altogether from 
 the apprehensions under which, up to that 
 moment, we had laboured. Our point, to-night, 
 was Hernhut, whence, with a little manage- 
 ment, and some extra pressure, we expected to 
 
 BERNSTADT. 
 
 209 
 
 
 *^ 
 
 i 
 
 reach Schandau in one day ; and we had still 
 five dollars, and a little more, in our purse. 
 
 From Golden Traum to Hernhut, we were 
 recommended to pass by way of Marklissa and 
 Bernstadt, the former a manufacturing place of 
 *, some note in Prussian Silesia, the latter one of 
 'the frontier-towns of Saxony. We followed 
 those directions faithfully, and erring only once, 
 to be put right again immediately by a very 
 civil woman, we soon left our last night's quar- 
 ters far behind. But we did not succeed in 
 reaching our proposed point of destination. 
 Fatigue gained the mastery over us while we 
 were yet three hours' march from Hernhut, 
 and at seven in the evening, we came reluct- 
 antly to the conclusion, that a halt in Bern- 
 stadt was necessary. 
 
 There had occurred no incident during our 
 march that deserves to be recorded; neither 
 had we passed any object that struck us as re- 
 markable. The scenery, far more tame than 
 we had been accustomed to in Bohemia, drew 
 forth small admiration, and in Marklissa, a 
 bustling, but irregularly-built town, we made 
 no delay. In like manner, I may say of Bern- 
 
 •^4K, t 
 
N t 
 
 210 
 
 VISIT FROM A GENDARME 
 
 stadt, that it contains little, which can, in any 
 way, interest a stranger. A church, with a 
 remarkably tall spire, is its chief ornament; 
 and the inn, in the market-place, where we 
 put up, was a fair one. A stroll through the 
 streets, therefore, as well as a ramble in the 
 churchyard, hardly compensated for the labour 
 of effecting it ; and we returned to supper at 
 eight o'clock, well-disposed to cut the day as 
 short as possible. But we were now in Saxony, 
 and the Saxon police thought fit to convince 
 us, that, however negligent their brother-officials 
 in Austria and Prussia might be, they were not 
 to be caught napping. I was sound asleep, 
 when about twelve o'clock, a loud rapping at 
 the chamber-door awoke me. I demanded the 
 cause of so ill-timed an interruption, and was 
 informed that the gendarmes had come to 
 obtain a sight of our passport, and that I must 
 get up and show it. The reader will easily 
 believe that I obeyed this mandate, not quite 
 in the placid temper of mind which is habitual 
 to me. In fact, I was exceedingly angry, as I 
 had reason to be ; for we came in at seven, the 
 police were perfectly aware of our arrival, and 
 
 W 
 
 AT BERNSTADT. 
 
 211 
 
 supposing that the national prosperity of 
 Saxony had depended on us, there was ample 
 time to ascertain that we were neither spies 
 nor incendiaries, between that hour and bed- 
 time. I, therefore, poured out upon the in- 
 truder, — the landlord of the inn, — a tolerable 
 volley of abuse, and desired him to retail it all, 
 in better German, to the gendarme below. 
 In spite of my wrath, I could not keep my 
 gravity, when after having desired him to 
 deliver such a message to the policeman as an 
 angry man is apt to convey, indicating, I am 
 afraid, a wish, on my part, that the ofiicial 
 would remove to less comfortable quarters than 
 Bernstadt, the host, with all possible gravity 
 replied, " Goot." There was no resisting this, 
 and I laughed heartily. 
 
 The passport was correct enough, and the 
 gendarme, after listening to sundry warm 
 expostulations, delivered, not through the 
 medium of the host, but directly by myself, 
 stammered out some excuse on the score of 
 duty, and hinted that they were obliged to be 
 constantly on the alert, in consequence of the 
 frequent inundation of fugitive Poles into the 
 
212 
 
 PROSCRIPTION OF THE POLES. 
 
 HERNHUT. 
 
 213 
 
 country. Alas, the poor Poles! Defeated in 
 their attempt to free themselves from the yoke 
 of the stranger, and driven to seek, in exile, 
 the safety which is denied to them at home, 
 they cannot find anywhere, throughout conti- 
 nental Europe, a resting-place for the soles of 
 their feet. For even Saxony, — the child, a 
 feeble one, doubtless, — but still a child, of the 
 revolutionary mania of 1830, — is afraid to afford 
 an asylum to men whose sole crime is, that 
 they have struggled, or perhaps pined only in 
 secret, to restore to their native land its place 
 among the nations of Europe. I was not, of 
 course, so imprudent as to take any notice of 
 the gendarme's observation; but I thought 
 within myself, that the government of a free 
 country deserved little respect which could per- 
 mit itself to be dragooned into the persecution 
 of a body of men, from whom Saxony, at least, 
 has sustained no injury. 
 
 The gendarme having departed, I returned 
 to bed, and slept till six in the morning. We 
 then breakfasted, and a little before nine, 
 arrived at one of the most interesting places 
 which the student of human nature will find 
 
 .' 
 
 <*, 
 
 in all Germany. Hernhut, in every sense of 
 the term, a missionary settlement, offers to the 
 eye of the curious and the reflecting, a spec- 
 tacle as striking as can well be conceived. 
 Here is no diversity of opinion on religious 
 subjects, no indifference, real or pretended, to 
 religion itself, no postponement of duty to 
 convenience, no deference to police regulations 
 which is not paid to a higher principle. Reli- 
 gion is in Hernhut, what law and custom are 
 elsewhere, the main-spring of people's actions. 
 They work and play, they associate together, or 
 dwell apart, they go out and come in, rise up, 
 and lie down ; they perform every office of life 
 strictly, or at least avowedly, under the sanc- 
 tion of the faith of which they are the profes- 
 sors. There may be hypocrisy in all this, 
 thouo-h I could discover no traces of it, for 
 human nature is a curious compound at the 
 best; but at least there is a moral courage 
 which commands our unqualified respect, inas- 
 much as everything is done without parade, 
 without moroseness, without the utterance of 
 a single expression which can convict them 
 of a desire to be admired of men, far less of 
 
•T5 
 
 214 
 
 THE HERNHUTERS. 
 
 ORIGIN OF THE NAME. 
 
 215 
 
 undervaluing or mistrusting the motives of 
 others. 
 
 What the origin of the Hernhuters really is, 
 seems to be a point as yet scarcely determined. ' 
 Mosheim, in his Ecclesiastical History, speaks 
 vaguely of them ; and Dr. Maclaine, his English 
 translator, has attributed to them practices and 
 opinions which are quite contrary to fact. 
 Confounding them with the Picards, whom 
 John Ziska, the famous Hussite general, well- 
 nigh exterminated, the latter speaks of them 
 as practising all the absurd impurities of the 
 Pre-Adamites, and he appeals for support to 
 Stinstra's pastoral letter, — one of the most 
 uncandid as well as impertinent productions 
 that ever came from the pen even of an Ana- 
 baptist. For my own part, I see no reason to 
 doubt that they are what they profess to be, 
 the descendants of the Bohemian or Moravian 
 brethren, whom the bigotry of the house of 
 Austria drove from their homes, and of whom 
 remnants are yet to be found, both in Poland 
 and Hungary. Their church is episcopal in its 
 constitution ; their tenets agree with the Augs- 
 burg Confession of Faith ; their ritual is plain 
 
 and bare, almost like that of the Presbyterian 
 church of Scotland; and their attention to 
 psalmody very great. It has been much the 
 practice of the surrounding townships, as well 
 in Bohemia as in Silesia and Saxony, to 
 speak slightingly of them. But a brief sojourn 
 among them, sufficed to convince me that 
 they were at least as honest as any of those 
 by whom their honesty had been called in 
 
 question. 
 
 The word Hernhut signifies "a seeker of 
 the Lord ;" and it was their excessive earnest- 
 ness in the service of religion, that, according 
 to one account, earned for them and their 
 settlement the names which they still retain. 
 Another tradition says, that Hut was the name 
 of the individual by whom the first of the 
 colony was led to this particular spot ; and that 
 as from him, Her Hut, or Gentleman Hut, their 
 village derived its appellation, so the inhabit- 
 ants of the village came to be known as Hern- 
 huters. Between these conflicting statements, 
 (and both were communicated to me on the 
 the spot,) I do not pretend to decide. I only 
 know that to Count Zinzendorf, — of well-esta- 
 
216 
 
 COUNT ZINZENDORF. 
 
 MODE OF GOVERNMENT. 
 
 217 
 
 blished notoriety, — the fathers were in 1722 
 indebted for their settlement on the spot of 
 ground which their sons still occupy; and that, 
 grateful for the kindnesses which their sect ' 
 received both from him and his children, they 
 have ever held the name in the highest possible 
 respect. 
 
 Count Zinzendorf was, beyond all question, 
 partially insane. His opinions, wild and extra- 
 vagant in the extreme, had a strong tendency 
 to vitiate the moral principle ; and the Hern- 
 huters having derived from his bounty all that 
 they possessed, would not refuse to listen when 
 he chose to address them, even in their religious 
 meetings. But it is a mistake to attribute to 
 him the character of a leader. He was their 
 protector in civil affairs, but he was not their 
 bishop. He had a voice in their synods, but 
 he was not supreme. In spite, therefore, of 
 the obscene rhapsodies which were printed, and 
 put into circulation, as his discourses, I see no 
 reason to believe that his opinions were ever 
 adopted as those of the community. On the 
 contrary, they have all along professed to sub- 
 scribe in sincerity to the Augsburg Confession ; 
 
 % 
 
 II 
 
 '^1 
 
 and surely their own assertions are more to be 
 relied upon, than those of their enemies. 
 
 Hernhut is, as I have said, in the strictest 
 sense of the term, a missionary settlement. 
 The people inhabit a town, cleaner, neater, and 
 in every respect more attractive, than any of a 
 similar size, which I have visited in Germany. 
 They own a considerable tract of country round 
 it, which they cultivate with excellent skill; 
 and they carry on among themselves all manner 
 of trades and professions. Civil magistrates 
 they have none, for the supreme government 
 has not forced such upon them; but their 
 affairs are regulated by a synod, in which all 
 the clergy, with a certain number of lay-elders, 
 have seats. The law, again, to which they 
 profess to pay obedience, is that of God. What- 
 ever contradicts the morality of the Gospel is, 
 by them, accounted illegal, and they punish the 
 guilty by spiritual censures, and at last by 
 excommunication. This latter amounts, in fact, 
 to expulsion from the place ; for an excommu- 
 nicated brother or sister finds no one with 
 whom to maintain a correspondence. I found, 
 indeed, by the presence of a gendarme among 
 
 VOL. II. I* 
 

 ( ! 
 
 218 
 
 THE SCHWEISTER-HOUSE. 
 
 THE SCHWEISTER-H0U8E. 
 
 219 
 
 them, that the government did not leave them 
 absolutely unobserved ; but his duty seems to 
 be very light, and his manner is singularly 
 subdued and respectful. 
 
 In this place, remarkable everywhere, there 
 are one or two points, to which the visitor is 
 conducted, as more than others deserving his 
 attention. Foremost among these are the 
 Broder-house, the Schweister-house, and the 
 Predecher-house,— the latter being the name 
 which the Hemhuters think fit to bestow upon 
 their church, or house of public worship. The 
 Broder and Schweister-houses are, as their 
 names denote, asylums, wdthin which a certain 
 number of men and women, members of the 
 church of Hernhut, find shelter. Not that 
 the inmates of these well-regulated abodes are 
 all paupers. On the contrary, you meet in the 
 Schweister-house persons belonging to every 
 class of life, from the decayed or friendless 
 gentlewoman down to the poor worn-out laun- 
 dress ; and the state of the Broder-house is, in 
 every respect, the same. But one roof covers 
 them all, and though their treatment beneath 
 it may vary a little in regard to the lodging, 
 
 M 
 
 diet, &c., afforded them, they are treated by one 
 another, as well as by their fellow-religionists 
 who visit them, strictly as brothers and sisters. 
 When, for example, the portress opened the 
 door of the Schweister-house to us, and found 
 that we were foreigners, she stated that Sister 
 Handman could speak French, and to Sister 
 Handman's apartment we were forthwith con- 
 ducted, nothing loth to follow. We found it 
 furnished with great taste, and the lady herself, 
 well-bred and intelligent; yet the humblest 
 person in the house called her only schweister, 
 and she did not appear to desire or to look for 
 
 more. 
 
 The Schweister-house contains one hundred 
 and thirty females, of all ages, from seventy 
 and eighty down to twelve. For the younger 
 members of the community, there is a school, 
 where they are instructed in reading, writing, 
 arithmetic, French, sewing, embroidery, an4 
 music, — of all which branches of education, 
 members of the community are the teachers. 
 The elders employ their time a good deal in 
 needle-work, and knitting ; chiefly in the fabri- 
 cation of pretty little articles, such as purses, 
 
 L 2 
 
r 
 
 11! 
 
 THE CHURCH. 
 
 221 
 
 220 
 
 THE SCHWEISTER-HOUSE. 
 
 shirt-collars, tapestry coverings for chairs, work- 
 bags, &c., all of which are sold for the benefit 
 of the institution, to visitors ; or sent off from 
 time to time, to London, Berlin, the United 
 States of America, and other places where the 
 Hernhuters have established missionary sta- 
 tions. There, it is said, they obtain ready cus- 
 tomers, and the money so earned is faithfully 
 applied to missionary purposes. Of course, the 
 more essential, though less elegant departments 
 in the management of a household, are not ne- 
 glected. Among the sisters, there are matrons, 
 housekeepers, cooks, chamber-maids, scullions, 
 laundresses, and even errand-women; — all of 
 them accustomed from their youth to more or 
 less of manual labour, and all supported out of 
 common funds of the institution. Such per- 
 sons, as well as a large majority of those 
 on whom they attend, pay no board. The 
 Schweister-house is their home; which they 
 are free to quit, however, at pleasure ; and they 
 all live on a footing of perfect equality. One 
 large room serves as the common eating-hall ; 
 one, which engrosses an entire front of the 
 building, is the dormitory; while a chapel. 
 
 where there is an altar,, sees them assembled 
 every morning to sing a hymn, to the accom- 
 paniment of a harpsichord, and pray with one 
 of the ministers who attends them. 
 
 Previous to our visit to the Schweister-house, 
 we had inspected the church,— a plain un- 
 adorned hall, fitted up with benches, two gal- 
 leries, and a sort of table or altar. There is 
 neither desk nor pulpit, for the service stands 
 in no need of such adjuncts, inasmuch as the 
 devotional parts of it consist mainly of psalm- 
 singing, and the exhortation is delivered, like a 
 lecturer's address at the British Institution, 
 from the table. Unfortunately for myself, I 
 did not happen, on either occasion of visiting 
 the place, to reach it on a festival; but the 
 music, I am told, is exceedingly good, and the 
 choir is led by an organ. It may be worth 
 while to add, that the principle which has esta- 
 blished a Broder-house and Schweister-house 
 apart from one another, operates in the temple 
 of the Hernhuters, — the men and women 
 occupy distinct sets of benches, with a con- 
 siderable space between them. 
 
 The pastors or clergy of this singular sect, 
 

 222 
 
 THE CEMETERY. 
 
 THE CEMETERY. 
 
 223 
 
 inliabit apartments connected with the church, 
 and adjoining to it. Not fewer than seven 
 are always resident in the town, of whom 
 three are bishops, and they are all family men. ' 
 I do not know how they are accommodated 
 in the sort of college which was pointed out 
 as their common home; but I should think 
 indifferently. 
 
 Our next visit was to the cemetery. To 
 reach it we were obliged to traverse a consider- 
 able portion of the town, than which I have 
 seen nothing in Germany so neat and clean, 
 and what we should describe in England as 
 thoroughly comfortable-looking. The streets 
 were all wide and well-paved ; the houses sub- 
 stantial, yet airy; and everything about them, 
 from the glass in the windows to the brass 
 knockers on the doors, clean as hands could 
 make them. 
 
 The cemetery lies, perhaps, a couple of hun- 
 dred yards beyond the outskirts of the town. 
 You ascend to it, — for it occupies the elbow of 
 a green hill, — by a broad gravel road, cut 
 through the centre of luxuriant meadows, and 
 shaded on either side by rows of lime-trees. 
 
 i 
 
 This conducts you to a gateway, over the arch 
 of which on the outer side, are inscribed in 
 German, the words « Christ is risen from the 
 dead f while the corresponding side within the 
 enclosure bears as its motto, « And is become 
 the first-fruits of them that slept." And truly 
 it would be hard to imagine a spot of earth, 
 within which the enthusiast,— aye, and even 
 the man who, without being an enthusiast, has 
 ever so slight a tinge of romance in his nature, 
 —would more desire to sleep out that last 
 
 slumber. 
 
 A sort of oblong square, it is girdled round 
 by a weU-trimmed hedge of limes, from which, 
 at intervals, pollarded trees shoot up; while 
 the corners are thickly woven each into a 
 shady arbour, where seats are arranged for the 
 accommodation of the contemplative. It is, 
 however, after you have passed beneath the 
 arch, that the holy quiet of the spot strikes 
 you most forcibly. Laid out with singular good 
 taste into parallelograms, and having the paths 
 which divide them one from another, shaded by 
 limes, it presents to your gaze no confused 
 heap of irregular mounds, overgrown with 
 
 (I 
 
'■*»■ 
 
 224 
 
 THE CEMETERY. 
 
 THE CEMETERY. 
 
 225 
 
 nettles and other noxious weeds, but well-kept, 
 yet unornamented plains, where, side by side, 
 each covered by a flat stone, — the record of 
 their births, and death, and nothing more, — the 
 deceased brothers and the sisters of this singular 
 community lie at rest. Even here, however, 
 in the grave-yard of a people studious to pre- 
 serve, as far as such a thing is possible, the 
 primitive equality of man with man, some dis- 
 tinction is paid to the ashes of the great, — not 
 because in their season of mortality these 
 ashes made up a noble family, but because the 
 family in question have been mighty benefactors 
 to the sect. In the centre of a wide road 
 which separates the cemetery into two halves,—- 
 and on the right of which the males of the 
 place are buried, while the portion on the left 
 is devoted exclusively to women, — repose all 
 that was once seen among men of Count Zin- 
 zendorf and his kindred, covered over by nine 
 stone tombs, on the elevated lids of which 
 their titles and designations are inscribed. The 
 Count himself, to whom Hernhut owes its 
 prosperity, and in some sort, its character, 
 occupies the central position of all ; and he is 
 
 m 
 
 supported on either hand by the graves of his 
 descendants. Nor will the number of these 
 graves ever be increased. The family of Zin- 
 zendorf has become extinct; and no other 
 relics of humanity may hope to be honoured 
 as they were, by the simple, yet reflecting 
 members of the Hernhut community. 
 
 We lingered in this beautiful spot a good 
 half-hour, and quitted it, at the termination of 
 that period, " wiser and better men," at least 
 for the moment. Altogether different from the 
 P^re La Chaise, or any other cemetery which I 
 had ever visited before, it struck me as consti- 
 tuting the very beau ideal of a burying ground, 
 
 ^grave, yet not severe, — ^neat, yet free from 
 
 every approach to gaudiness, — well kept, yet 
 bearing about it no impress of the hands that 
 trimmed it, and in its situation and arrange- 
 ments perfect. Here are no clumsy pillars, nor 
 urns, nor sarcophagi, no, nor even crosses. 
 Flowers are utterly unknown, and garlands 
 tabooed. But the arrangement of the pollarded 
 limes, which both surround and intersect the 
 square, is, as it ought to be in such a place, at 
 once formal and appropriate, casting each of 
 
 . L 3 
 
226 
 
 THE CEMETERY. 
 
 the gravel-walks into a pleasant shade, while 
 between them all lies open. With respect, 
 again, to the graves, these are distinguished 
 from the general level of the ground only by 
 the small, flat, hewn stone, which is laid over 
 each, and they seem to be about four feet apart 
 from one another. I observed that the Hern- 
 huters seem, from the first formation of the 
 cemetery, to have observed, in conducting their 
 funerals, the same regularity which appears to 
 prevail in all their daily proceedings. The first 
 of their community who paid the debt of 
 nature, — after the buryiug-ground was laid out, 
 and the colony put upon its present footing, — 
 lies under his stone, close to the angle which 
 is formed by the meeting of the central walk 
 and that which passes along the side of the 
 hedge next the entrance. In like manner, I 
 observed that, far to the rear of the two lines 
 which enclose, as it were, the tombs of the 
 Zinzendorfs, there are blank spaces, which will 
 doubtless be filled up, as the course of time 
 sweeps away generation after generation from 
 their hopes and their fears, their anxieties, their 
 pursuits, and their follies. 
 
 THE OBSERVATORY. 
 
 227 
 
 On quitting the grave-yard, our guide,— an 
 intelligent old man, — conducted us towards a 
 sort of observatory, from which, as it occupies 
 the summit of the hill, a fine view of the sur- 
 rounding country is to be obtained. The scene 
 was altogether very pleasing ; for cultivation is 
 carried on everywhere to a great extent, and 
 there is no lack either of ornamental wood, 
 or human habitations,— while, far in the dis- 
 tance, the mountains of Silesia and Bohemia 
 are seen, forming a noble back-ground to the 
 panorama. Nor was the effect of music, heard 
 at a distance, as happened with us to be the 
 case, out of keeping with the character of the 
 things around us. A band of strolling min- 
 strels chanced to be wending their way through 
 a village, in the bottom of the vale far beyond 
 Hernhut, and the air which they were per- 
 forming, borne back upon the light breeze, 
 sounded very sweetly. In a word, our visit to 
 the tombs of the Hernhuters, with all its 
 accompaniments of sight and sound, affected us 
 at the moment with feelings singularly de- 
 lightful, of which the recollection still abides 
 by us, as Moore beautifully describes the odour 
 
228 
 
 FOREIGN SETTLEMENTS OF 
 
 of the roses, lingering about the fragments of 
 the broken vase, which once contained the roses 
 themselves. 
 
 r 
 
 After inserting our names, according to esta- 
 blished usage, in a book which is contained 
 in the wooden tower of the observatory, we 
 returned to the inn, and offered our guide 
 money. He would not accept a groschen, 
 though he had too much good sense and good 
 taste, to affect indignation at what he could not 
 but perceive was not designed for an insult. 
 We prevailed upon him, however, to eat his 
 luncheon with us, and found him both an intel- 
 ligent companion, and willing to impart hiai 
 information freely. 
 
 He told us, what future inquiries have 
 since confirmed, that the Church of Hernhut 
 has branches in very many lands. At Berlin, 
 there is an establishment on a small scale, 
 which is managed after the model of that 
 in Silesia. London has also its little germ, 
 somewhere, according to him, in the neighbour- 
 hood of Fulham; and in North America the 
 settlements are numerous. But all look to 
 Hernhut as to the fountain-head of their 
 
 THE HERNHUTERS. 
 
 229 
 
 church, and all receive from the synod there, 
 periodical admonitions and instructions. 
 
 So much for the more spiritual and intel- 
 lectual portion of our entertainment,— and now 
 a word or two concerning that which was 
 neither. I must not forget to record, for the 
 benefit of all true lovers of excellent beer and 
 excellent bread, that they will not find better 
 than at Hernhut in all Germany. The claret, 
 which was also good, held, in our estimation, a 
 very secondary place to the clear, brisk, pale 
 ale, which the waiter poured out for us from 
 certain elegantly-shaped, green glass bottles, 
 and the bread we pronounced to be beyond all 
 
 praise. 
 
 We quitted Hernhut about one o'clock, 
 
 hoping, as the result proved, in the face of 
 
 physical impossibilities, to reach Schandau that 
 
 night. The idea was the more preposterous, 
 
 that we knew perfectly well how far, by the 
 
 line of the main road, the one place is divided 
 
 from the other ; but being told of a footpath 
 
 over hill and vale, and having examined upon 
 
 the map, the situations of the villages through 
 
 which it led, we came to the conclusion that 
 
230 
 
 LOSE OUR WAY. 
 
 INTELLIGENT COMPANION. 
 
 231 
 
 we should be able to compress the usual forty 
 English miles into half that number. We 
 were entirely mistaken in this rash inference ; 
 for, independently of the risks which we ran of 
 losing the way, — a misfortune which, it must 
 be confessed, more than once overtook us, — 
 we ought to have recollected that even travel- 
 lers on foot cannot proceed with the precision 
 of an arrow's flight ; inasmuch as standing corn 
 is not to be trodden down, morasses must be 
 avoided, and through woods and over moun- 
 tains, paths are, for the most part, tortuous. 
 Neither did it greatly surprise, however much 
 it mortified us, to find, that on halting at a 
 village in that part of Bohemia which pushes 
 itself deep into the heart of Saxony, between 
 Seibnitz and Hernhut, that we had accom- 
 plished scarcely one-fourth of our pilgrimage ; 
 and that, with scarce four hours of daylight 
 before us, it was utterly hopeless to think of 
 compassing the remaining three-fourths. Hav- 
 ing ascertained, therefore, that good quarters 
 were to be had at Schlukenau, a considerable 
 town through which it would be necessary to 
 pass, we made up our minds to halt there for 
 
 the night; even though by doing so, we should 
 leave ourselves twenty good miles to walk on 
 
 the morrow. 
 
 We dined in a village inn, the landlord of 
 which was a jolly old fellow; who, having an 
 only daughter, married her to a bouerman in 
 the place, and now the three generations,— for 
 there was a family by the union, of course,— 
 dwelt together very happily under the old man's 
 roof. I mention this trifling circumstance be- 
 cause it enables me to give the substance of 
 certain statistical details which were communi- 
 cated to me, in the course of our walk, by the 
 son-in-law. This latter, a remarkably athletic 
 fine-looking fellow, who volunteered to give 
 us a convoy, and direct us the nearest way 
 to Schlukenau, had seen something of the 
 world. He was in Strasburg in the year 1813, 
 when a corps of English artillery manned the 
 works, and he spoke in high admiration of the 
 appearance and perfect discipline of the men. 
 Now, however, he cultivated with excellent 
 skill a farm of eighty or an hundred acres, of 
 which he was the proprietor ; and while he led 
 me over his land, and pointed out with honest 
 
232 
 
 BOHEMIAN SYSTEM 
 
 OF AGRICULTURE. 
 
 233 
 
 pride, the order in which it was kept, and the 
 enormous crops which it produced, he very 
 readily answered such questions as I put to 
 him on the subject both of the Bohemian sys- 
 tem of agriculture and of the profits arising 
 out of it. Wheat, as, indeed, my own previous 
 observation had shown me, is not much cul- 
 tivated in Bohemia. Here and there, where 
 the soil is particularly favourable for it, the 
 seed is sown ; but rye is the staple commodity, 
 with which, indeed, the fields were loaded. 
 Out of rye, as I need scarcely mention, the 
 Germans manufacture, not only the bread that 
 is commonly in use among them, but almost 
 all their ardent spirits, of which I have tasted 
 very little, but which, whenever I did taste it, 
 seemed to be execrable. Oats they likewise 
 rear for their horses, as well as barley for malt- 
 ing ; but these grains bear no proportion, in 
 point of abundance, to the rye crops. 
 
 When the rye is removed, they sow the 
 ground w ith clover ; not, as with us, that they 
 may feed it off, and so enrich the soil while 
 they -extract something from it, but for the 
 purpose of securing a supply of dry fodder for 
 
 their cattle, which, all the winter over, and 
 throughout a considerable portion of the spring 
 and summer, are kept in their stalls. Then 
 come potatoes, then a season of fallow ; after 
 which a good coat of manure, to be followed 
 by rye again. Whenever flax is grown, and 
 next to rye it is, both here and in Saxony, more 
 cultivated than any other grain, fallows are 
 more frequent ; for flax, as every child knows, 
 drains the soil of all its nutritious qualities. 
 
 The implements used in agricultural opera- 
 tions seem to be ruder, and far more inefiicient, 
 than among us. The plough is precisely such 
 an instrument as I recollect to have seen re- 
 presented in my Delphin edition of Virgil's 
 Georgics when I was at school ; and it is drawn 
 indifferently by horses, bullocks, or heifers. 
 Bullocks and heifers are, however, more com- 
 monly used than horses, though it is no unusual 
 sight to see a horse and a heifer yoked toge- 
 ther. There is no boy to drive; but the 
 ploughman, as in Scotland, at once holds the 
 stilts of the plough, and with his voice, and a 
 long halter, guides the cattle. With respect 
 to the harrows, I saw little difference between 
 
234 
 
 BOHEMIAN SYSTEM 
 
 OF AGRICULTURE. 
 
 235 
 
 them and our English implements, except that 
 those in Germany are lighter, and never have 
 more than one horse or one bullock attached 
 
 to them. 
 
 The rest of their tools, such as forks, rakes, 
 mattocks, spades, &c., very much resemble our 
 own ; with this difference, in reference to the 
 last, that in Germany much less iron is wasted 
 upon them than upon similar articles in Eng- 
 land. The blade of a German spade, which, by 
 the way, is pointed, or, rather, semicircular in 
 form, is composed of wood to within a few 
 inches of the edge, and there is no iron at all 
 upon the handle. 
 
 I am not quite sure that I perfectly under- 
 stood my intelligent companion, when we came 
 to discuss the amount of crop raised from the 
 land, and the prices fetched by the different 
 kinds of grain in the market. His method of 
 computing these matters was so different from 
 any to which I had been accustomed, that I 
 could only guess at a parallel between it and 
 our English measures. Yet it struck me that 
 he described the wheat lands as producing, on 
 an average, between three and four quarters ; 
 
 \ 
 
 of which the price varied from twenty-one to 
 twenty-five shillings of our money. Concern- 
 ing the price of the rye I had less curiosity, 
 though that seemed to repay the farmer quite 
 as abundantly as wheat; at least, my friend 
 assured me that it would not answer his pur- 
 pose to substitute wheat for rye, even now, 
 when wheat was more than usually in demand, 
 and therefore fetched a more than usually 
 high price. For it is worthy of remark that the 
 failure of the crops in America had affected 
 the corn-market even in Bohemia ; from which 
 remote district people were transmitting quan- 
 tities of wheat to supply the necessities of the 
 squatters among the back woods of Kentucky. 
 From the subject of agriculture we passed 
 on to its kindred topics, grazing and planting; 
 the latter of which naturally led to a discussion 
 on fuel. I learned from him, that here, as 
 elsewhere in the north and centre of Germany, 
 there is no such thing as grazing on a large 
 scale. Such bouermen as happen to own a 
 handful of sheep, send them in summer, under 
 the charge of a lad, into the green lanes and 
 roadsides, to feed ; while in winter and spring 
 
236 
 
 BOHEMIAN SYSTEM 
 
 OF AGRICULTURE. 
 
 237 
 
 they are, like the cattle, kept within doors, and 
 fed from stalls. The consequence is, that you 
 scarcely ever meet with lambs as an article of 
 food in Germany ; for the flocks are too scanty 
 to authorize the practice of putting the rising 
 generation to death. So also in reference to 
 dairy farms, these neither are, nor can be, on 
 the scale to which we are accustomed in Eng- 
 land. Hence cheese, besides being both dear 
 and bad, is very scarce ; and butter, except in 
 the very height of summer, is detestable. 
 
 The Germans, though exceedingly fond of 
 their pleasure-gardens, are not skilful as horti- 
 culturists. Their fruits are poor, and they take 
 little pains to render them otherwise ; but of 
 their forests they are very careful. This is the 
 more necessary, because of their dependance 
 upon the woods for almost all the fuel which 
 they consume; and which, while it is not 
 cheap anywhere, is here, in Bohemia and Sile- 
 sia, among the most costly articles in use. 
 A daughter of wood, sufficient for a month's 
 supply for a kitchen stove, costs in this corner 
 of Bohemia, five dollars. The same quantity, 
 in the very heart of the Saxon forests, — that is, 
 
 at Schandau, in Saxon Switzerland,— costs four 
 dollars and four groschens. Nor would it be 
 procurable even at this price, were not the 
 proprietors of forest lands particularly zealous 
 in protecting their woods from injury, and in 
 replanting such spaces as the axe of the wood- 
 man may, from time to time, lay bare. I find, 
 however, that here, as elsewhere, it becomes 
 necessary, in the course of time, to vary the 
 plant, so as to suit the caprices of the soil. 
 In many places I observed that young birch 
 and ash trees were coming up from among the 
 roots and stems of decayed or removed firs; 
 and I learned, on inquiry, that they had been 
 substituted for the original stock, to which the 
 earth had refused any longer to furnish ade- 
 
 quate nutrition. 
 
 I have as yet said nothing of the size and 
 general appearance of the horses, cattle, and 
 sheep which, from time to time, crossed me. 
 Of the first, I should say that the breed must 
 be singularly mixed ; for you meet, here and 
 there, tolerable specimens of the animal, to be 
 succeeded immediately afterwards by the merest 
 rips. Generally speaking, however, the draught 
 
238 
 
 BOHEMIAN SYSTEM 
 
 OF AGRICULTURE. 
 
 239 
 
 horses seem to be good, — slow, doubtless, and 
 alike defective in the shoulder and hind-quar- 
 ters, but strong, without being, like the Fle- 
 mish breed, so heavy as to oppress themselves. 
 The riding horses, and especially those taken 
 up for the service of the cavalry, struck me as 
 being, in proportion, far inferior. They are 
 either all legs, which they do not seem to use 
 either with dexterity or elegance, or mere 
 punches. In like manner, the cattle, to the 
 eye of one accustomed to the sleek coats and 
 well-covered ribs of our Lincolnshire or Dur- 
 ham breeds, present a very sorry appearance. 
 Each particular bone in each particular brute's 
 carcase sticks up in melancholy distinctness, 
 and in point of size the animals themselves 
 are mere dwarfs. I have seen a man plough- 
 inf' with a couple of heifers, positively neither 
 taller nor stouter than a pair of Lincolnshire 
 calves of three weeks old. 
 
 From such materials it would be vain to 
 expect that good beef can be manufactured ; 
 indeed, the Germans have no notion of pam- 
 pering themselves with good beef. Their sys- 
 tern is, not to fatten the beast, and then kill 
 
 f 
 
 him ; but to work him as long as he is fit for 
 work, and then to kill him lest he should 
 become an incumbrance. Neither can their 
 sheep boast much of the symmetry of their 
 proportions, or of the high flavour of their flesh 
 when it comes to table. The wool, as every- 
 body knows, is, indeed, excellent; but the 
 mutton is but sorry food, at least to an 
 Englishman. As I stated some time ago, how- 
 ever, the English traveller need not distress 
 himself too much on this account. He is very 
 rarely troubled with the offer of mutton, inas- 
 much as calfs-flesh seems to be not only at 
 hand all the year round, but to supply the place 
 of every other species of animal food. 
 
 We parted from our civil bouerman about 
 four o'clock, at the summit of a hill, whence 
 he was enabled to point out to us, both the 
 direction of the ground on which Schlukenau 
 stood, and the course of the path which it 
 would be necessary to follow in order to reach 
 it. His instructions were communicated with 
 so much accuracy, that we never deviated an 
 inch from the right way; and so came in 
 about seven, to just such a town as our 
 
240 
 
 SCHLUKENAU. 
 
 experience of other agricultural stadts and 
 burghs had led us to expect. At the Golden 
 Stag we fixed our head quarters, — a large 
 inn, and apparently well frequented, — where 
 we spent the night, without either acci- 
 dent or adventure befalling of which I need 
 pause to give an account. There is a schloss 
 here, which, to our surprise, we learned, be- 
 longs,^ like the lordship of the manor, to the 
 same graff who owns the land about Aders- 
 pach on the other side of the Riesengebirgen. 
 I have forgotten both his name and his title ; 
 but he must be a wealthy nobleman, even for 
 Austria ; which, while it possesses many poor, 
 can likewise muster some of the richest noble- 
 men in the world. 
 
 We were not over-above delighted with 
 Schlukenau ; for the landlord had about him 
 none of the politeness which we had invariably 
 found in his brother craftsmen in Bohemia, and 
 his domestics were all singularly slow and stu- 
 pid. We therefore quitted the place without 
 regret, at six o'clock next morning, and marched 
 upon Schandau. Again we followed, both from 
 choice and to shorten the distance, bye-paths, 
 
 BEACH SCHANDAU. 
 
 241 
 
 which carried us through some glorious scenery, 
 quite different in character, but scarcely less 
 attractive, than any which we had passed in our 
 tour. For the rocks and precipices of Saxon 
 Switzerland were once more around us, and 
 never had they appeared to us more wild or 
 more sublime. Through these, under the in- 
 fluence of a bright sunny day, we trudged 
 along, crossing hill and traversing dale, in the 
 highest possible spirits, till having gained the 
 main road not fiir from the village of Tseidler, 
 we followed it, without swerving, into the quiet 
 glen of Schandau. 
 
 The tale of my pedestrian tour in the 
 highlands of Bohemia, Silesia, and Saxony, is 
 told. To the first of these countries I after- 
 wards devoted a good deal more both of time 
 and attention ; but as my journey was per- 
 formed, not on foot, but in carriages, the 
 opportunities presented to me of becoming in- 
 timately acquainted with the habits of thought 
 and fireside occupations of the people were 
 necessarily less abundant than I could have 
 wished them to be. My reader must, therefore, 
 be content, for the remainder of this excursion, 
 VOL. n. M 
 
242 
 
 SCHANDAU. 
 
 to accept, in lieu of a diary, a general outline 
 of the route which I followed ; and to pause 
 with me, from time to time, while I relate to 
 him such incidents as befel, or retail such frag- 
 ments of information as I considered it worth 
 while to treasure up when acquired, and have 
 since judged it expedient to commit to writing. 
 
 K. 
 
 \|# 
 
 243 
 
 k 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 m 
 
 THE DILIGENCE FROM DRESDEN TO TOPLITZ. THE FIELD 
 
 OF KULM. THE BATTLE, AND THE MONUMENTS THAT 
 
 RECORD IT. 
 
 There is a diligence, or eilwagen, which leaves 
 Dresden for Prague twice in every week. It 
 passes along the Schandau road as far as Pirna ; 
 whence, making a turn to the right, it traverses 
 the lower slopes of the Erzgebirge, and so con- 
 ducts, by the mineral baths of Berg-gieshubel, 
 to Hollendorf, on the Saxon frontier. My 
 young companion and I, having made all 
 necessary arrangements, took our places in this 
 vehicle on Wednesday, the 5th of July. We 
 had previously wandered over a good deal of 
 the country through which it was to carry us, 
 our report of all that we had encountered 
 and seen having excited a natural desire in 
 others to see it also. And in the interval 
 between the termination of one expedition 
 and the commencement of another, the car- 
 
 M 2 
 
w 
 
 244 
 
 A SAXON 
 
 EILWAGEN. 
 
 245 
 
 i 
 
 i\ 
 
 riage was accordingly put in requisition. 
 Toplitz, and various other points, replete with 
 interest, were thus visited, — of which I have 
 not yet spoken, because it would have been 
 labour lost to describe them tAvice. Yet the 
 fact of beholding it now for the second time, 
 had no influence in lessening the pleasure which 
 we derived from the scenery around us. With- 
 out partaking in any degree of the character of 
 a mountain district, this mid-space between 
 Saxony and Bohemia is iiighly picturesque; 
 for it is one continued succession of valleys, 
 with well-wooded hills enclosing them; and the 
 bold summits of Lilienstein and Konigstein are 
 rarely out of sight. 
 
 A Saxon eilwagen is a machine nowise de- 
 serving of reprobation. It is a long, omnibus- 
 looking affair, with a coupe in front for the 
 conducteur, and seated within so as to contain 
 not fewer than sixteen persons; yet are the 
 chairs all so arranged that you have a comfort- 
 able rest for your back, while by keeping the 
 numerous windows open, you suffer less from 
 beat than might be expected. The rate of 
 travelling, too, is much improved from what it 
 
 1"^ 
 
 M 
 
 li 
 
 4 
 
 used to be. I really believe that on level 
 ground we compassed six miles an hour, and if 
 we did creep as often as a trifling acclivity 
 came in view, it must not be forgotten, that 
 there were but four horses to drag the pon- 
 derous load. With respect, again, to our fellow- 
 passengers, they seemed to me to be made up 
 of individuals from many lands. There was an 
 Austrian colonel, on his way to join his regi- 
 ment in Prague; there was a Prussian mer- 
 chant,— a traveller, lilie ourselves, for amuse- 
 ment's sake; there were a Saxon lawyer, a 
 Moravian banker, and last, though not least, 
 as perfect a specimen of the tribe John Bull, 
 as the eye of the naturalist need desire to 
 behold. Our worthy countryman understood 
 not one syllable of German, and his French 
 was lame to a degree. But he bore about him 
 a portly person, a good-humoured, rosy, and 
 rather large countenance, and looked round 
 upon the company, amid which, after prodigious 
 labour, he succeeded in establishing himself, 
 with an expression of indescribable condescen- 
 sion, which said, " I know that you are all a 
 set of very poor devils, yet I will suffer you." 
 
 'I 
 
 lL y 
 
246 
 
 AUSTRIAN 
 
 He was, as those of his kidney generally are, 
 for ever on the alert lest the Germans should 
 cheat him; and grumbled and complained, and 
 ate and drank, and proved to be, after all, a 
 kind-hearted and easy-tempered person. 
 
 Between HoUendorf, where the Saxon cus- 
 tom-house is planted, and Peterswald, the 
 frontier village of Bohemia, there is an interval 
 of perhaps an English mile in extent. Over 
 that the Saxon diligence carried us; and at 
 the door of the Austrian custom-house, both 
 we and our baggage were deposited. Here 
 passports were examined, trunks and knapsacks 
 opened, and the other formalities attendant on 
 the admission of strangers into a new country 
 gone through, among which I observed that the 
 custom was not omitted, of feeing the revenue- 
 officer into good humour. Each passenger, as 
 he presented his passport, to be viseed and 
 approved, slid into the official's hand a piece of 
 money; and I, as I consider it wise, in like 
 cases, to do as is done by those about me, fol- 
 lowed the example. The officer took the 
 coin, smiled graciously upon me, affixed the 
 stamp unhesitatingly to my credentials, and 
 
 CUSTOM-HOUSE. 
 
 247 
 
 turned to somebody else. I really could not 
 quite explain to myself why this act of extra- 
 vagance had been committed, but I am not 
 aware that I ever missed the douceur ; and I 
 heartily wish the individual who received it, 
 much enjoyment in its possession. 
 
 We dined at Peterswald, on very good fare, 
 which the landlady of the Post had provided 
 for us; and had no reason to complain, as 
 stage-coach travellers in England sometimes 
 do, that we were hurried in its consumption. 
 One full hour was spent in discussing the 
 meal, and another in smoking after it. At 
 length, however, intelligence was communi- 
 cated, that the conducteur awaited us, and we 
 descended to the road, where a change had 
 come over " the spirit of our dream." The 
 substantial Saxon eilwagen stood still in its 
 repose, for it was not destined to proceed 
 further; and in its room were provided three 
 lesser carriages, into one of which, seated for 
 four persons, I and my boy stowed ourselves. 
 The opposite places were soon taken by our 
 countryman and the Prussian, and away we 
 went. 
 
248 
 
 FIELD OP KULM. 
 
 Our journey, in the early part of this day, 
 had lain over the field of the great battle of 
 Dresden; we were now about to traverse the 
 scene of another conflict scarcely less desperate, 
 — the affair, as by the French writers it is de- 
 signated, of Kulm. It would have been strange 
 indeed, had I failed to look round with more 
 than common interest while traversing these 
 scenes of mighty strife. I endeavoured also to 
 look at them with a soldier's eye. I did my 
 best to trace the positions of the several 
 columns of attack and defence; and I think 
 that I succeeded. At all events, I am cer- 
 tain that never till I sa\y the ground, was I 
 able, from the accounts given, whether by 
 French or German writers, to form anv correct 
 idea either of the battles themselves, or of 
 their results. Let me endeavour to supply to 
 others the deficiency of which I have myself 
 experienced the pressure, by describing the 
 localities, in connexion wiih a brief narrative 
 of the events which have immortalized them. 
 
 The battle of Dresden, as well as the com- 
 bats of Gross-Beeren, Katzbach, and Kulm were, 
 as I need scarcely observe, the immediate con- 
 
 SACRIFICES OP NAPOLEON. 
 
 249 
 
 sequences of the termination of the armistice in 
 August, 1813. Napoleon, weary of the war, 
 had yielded to the demands of the Prussians, 
 and, evacuating Breslau, and abandoning the 
 line of the Oder, had fallen back upon Lieg- 
 nitz. He himself declared, that he made these 
 sacrifices, — for such they unquestionably were, 
 — in the hope that, out of the armistice, a 
 treaty of peace would spring, and there is no 
 great cause to doubt that he spoke sincerely. 
 What could he hope to gain by a continuance 
 of the struggle? France was exhausted in 
 every pore ; the best and ablest of her warriors 
 were slain, such as -survived longed for rest, 
 and were ready to sacrifice even their national 
 vanity in order to obtain it. On the other 
 hand, the strength of the Allies seemed to accu- 
 mulate from day to day ; and Austria assumed 
 such an attitude as to render her neutrality less 
 than doubtful. I think, then, that we may give 
 Napoleon credit for having spoken the truth 
 once in his life, when he said, that he yielded 
 much, by the evacuation of Silesia, from an 
 earnest desire for peace ; but his desire was not 
 
 ,u 3 
 
250 
 
 THE CAMPAIGN 
 
 to be gratified. The Allies judged, and judged 
 wisely, that a season of repose would, by him, , 
 be employed only to gather means for creating 
 fresh troubles, and they determined, — the coun- 
 sels of England prevailing with them, — to wage 
 war a Toutrance. 
 
 On the 11th of August, the armistice came 
 to an end. Its rightful term was the 17th; 
 but the current of events swept over it. Na- 
 poleon was then in Dresden, which he held 
 as the key and pivot of his position, and to 
 cover it, he had constructed a large and for- 
 midable entrenched camp along the bases of 
 Lilienstein and Kcinigstein. Of the situation 
 of these two enormous rocks I have spoken 
 elsewhere. They stand about twelve English 
 miles from Dresden, like giant sentinels, that 
 guard the debouches of Bohemia and Silesia, 
 while between them flows the Elbe, now pass- 
 able only by a ferry, but by Napoleon's care, 
 then bridged over. Here a position was marked 
 out for not less than sixty thousand men, 
 whence, as from a centre, it was competent for 
 the French to pass either into Bohemia, where 
 
 OF 1813. 
 
 251 
 
 the Grand Army of the Allies seemed pre- 
 paring to assemble, or to Silesia and Lusatia. 
 But it was not on this side of the Saxon capital 
 exclusively, that Napoleon fixed a vigilant eye. 
 His real line was the line of the Elbe, from 
 Hamburg to Dresden; his communications 
 with France were kept open by Erfurth, and 
 through the Thuringian forest; and he took 
 care that all the approaches to Dresden should 
 be so guarded, as that, while the city itself con- 
 tinued secure from insult, the force in posses- 
 sion might have free avenues through which to 
 operate on any threatened point in this enormous 
 circle. . " Dresde," said he, " est le pivot, sur 
 lequel je veux manoeuvrer pour faire face a 
 toutes les attaques. Depuis Berlin jusqu'a 
 Prague, I'ennemi se develope sur -en circonfer- 
 ence dont j'occupe le centre ; les moindre com- 
 munications s'allangent pour lui sur les contours 
 qu'elles devrient suivre ; et pour moi quelques 
 marches suffisent pour me porter par tout ou ma 
 presence et mes reserves son necessaires. Mais 
 il faut que sur les points ou je ne serai pas, mes 
 lieutenants sechent m'attendre sans rien com- 
 mettre au hazard." It was mainly because they 
 
252 
 
 THE CAMPAIGN 
 
 OF 1813. 
 
 253 
 
 neglected to keep this latter injunction in view, 
 that the reverses which deranged all his magni-^ 
 ficent plans occurred. 
 
 Napoleon had formed, during the cessation 
 of hostilities, a new corps-d'armee^ which he put 
 under the command of General Vandamme, 
 and brought up from the mouth of the Elbe. 
 It numbered, in all, about five-and-twenty 
 thousand men, and had instructions to support 
 General St. Cyr, who with fifteen thousand, 
 was to occupy the fortified positions near 
 Dresden. Meanwhile, the Duke de Reggio, 
 from his camp at Dahme, was to march upon 
 Berlin with five-and-thirty thousand men of all 
 arms ; the Prince of Eckmuhl, from Bagedorf, 
 was to co-operate with him; while General 
 Lemon, the governor of Magdeburg, was to 
 keep open the communication between them 
 with a corps of six thousand men. These 
 movements were designed to accomplish a two- 
 fold object. First, they were to find for the 
 Prussians work enough at home; and to put 
 Napoleon, if possible, in possession of the 
 Prussian capital. Secondly, advantage might 
 be taken of the distraction thereby caused in 
 
 the counsels of the Allies, while Napoleon, in 
 person, with the Guards, and the mass of his 
 army, threw himself upon the Austrians. For 
 Napoleon, — the armistice being virtually at 
 an end, — ^became impatient of inactivity, and 
 hoped, while retaining Dresden, and looking to 
 it throughout as his pivot during the campaign, 
 to find time, ere the Allies should have per- 
 fected their arrangements, to strike a blow 
 both against Berlin and in Bohemia. 
 
 Napoleon had calculated less than he ought 
 to have done on the activity of Blucher and of 
 the Russians. The former, instead of waiting 
 to be attacked, took the initiative in Silesia, 
 and drove the French, with great loss, behind 
 the Bober. 
 
 Some time previously, — so early, indeed, as 
 the 10th, — several large masses of Russians 
 and Prussians had entered Bohemia ; and on 
 the 13th, the junction with the Austrians, 
 which it was one of Napoleon's objects to pre- 
 vent, had been accomplished. Meanwhile, he 
 himself, being ignorant of this fact, set out on 
 the 15th, for the bridge at Konigstein, whence 
 he pursued his march by Bautzen and Richen- 
 
254 
 
 THE CAMPAIGN 
 
 OF 1813. 
 
 255 
 
 bach to Gorlitz. He reached it on the 18th, 
 and being met there by M. de Vienne, his pleni- ^ 
 potentiary from Prague, he had the fact commu- 
 nicated to him of the formal adhesion of Austria 
 to the Grand Alliance. Though he heard, at 
 the same time, of the reverses in Silesia, he 
 instantly chose his part. He faced round 
 towards Bohemia, penetrated the defiles of the 
 mountains, spread himself over the valleys be- 
 hind Gabel and Rombourg, and learned at the 
 former of these places, that he was too late. 
 The Grand Army of the Allies was already 
 among the hills that border upon Saxony ; 
 and to the number of one hundred and fifty 
 thousand men, threatened Dresden with an 
 attack. 
 
 Napoleon seems always to have calculated 
 much on the immoveability of the enemies that 
 opposed him. Though he knew that Schwartz- 
 enbcrg was within two days' march of Dresden, 
 he flattered himself that he might still have 
 time to strike at Blucher ; and turning on his 
 heel, he flew back to Zittau, and from thence 
 passed without a halt to Gorlitz and Luban. 
 In a moment, the aspect of affairs was changed. 
 
 Two days' fighting served to convince the Prus- 
 sians that a new spirit reigned among the troops 
 that opposed them; and on the 23rd, the 
 French eagles were again advanced as far as 
 Katzbach. Here pressing instances from Dres- 
 den reached him, of the imminent danger that 
 threatened the city, and of the total inadequacy 
 of St. Cyr's corps to resist it ; and seeing that 
 Blucher was in full retreat, he resolved to re- 
 turn on his steps. Marshal Macdonald was 
 left with seventy or eighty thousand men to 
 keep the Prussian general in check; while 
 with the remainder Napoleon took the road to 
 Bautzen. 
 
 It was on the 24th, at an early hour, that he 
 reached this latter town, where letters from St. 
 Cyr were again handed to him, each more 
 urgent for support than the other. The Allies, 
 it seems, had carried the passes of the Erzge- 
 birge; their columns, were descending into 
 the plain on all sides, — while the French, 
 unable to maintain themselves in the field, were 
 sheltered behind the outer defences of the city. 
 Even this assurance could not, however, deter- 
 mine the emperor all at once . to abandon a 
 
256 
 
 THE CAMPAIGN 
 
 project which he had in view. He wished to 
 throw himself on Schwartzenberg's rear; and 
 provided he were assured that Dresden could 
 be held till the 28th, he counted on being able 
 to effect the movement. Accordingly, Van- 
 damme with his corps was ordered to push 
 from Stolpen for the bridge at Lilienstein ; to 
 pass the Elbe there, to seize the heights of 
 Peterswald, and keep them till Napoleon 
 should arrive, — an event which, unless evil 
 tidings came from Dresden, would surely befall 
 within eight-and-forty hours. But evil tidings 
 did come. At Stolpen, whither he had marched 
 on the 25th, General Gourgaud overtook him 
 to entreat, if he desired Dresden to be saved, 
 that he would return ; and General Haxo, the 
 engineer, w^liom he sent back to examine the 
 state of the defences, was the bearer of a 
 similar communication. Napoleon was sorely 
 vexed; but Dresden it was essential that he 
 should retain. 
 
 General Haxo was sent instantly to Van- 
 damme with his final instructions. They 
 amounted to this, that he should keep the 
 passes into Bohemia at all hazards, and win for 
 
 OF 1813. 
 
 257 
 
 himself a marshal's baton. This done, Napo- 
 leon marched upon Dresden, and on the 26th, 
 entered it at the head of his cavalry. The in- 
 fantry followed fast ; and the capital of Saxony, 
 which had already sustained insult from the 
 shot and shells of the Allies, and was threat- 
 ened with an immediate assault, became safe. 
 Napoleon made his dispositions with equal 
 promptitude and secresy. He stationed his 
 several divisions in the streets, so as to conceal 
 their numbers, while at the same time, each 
 fronted a gate, or gave support to a point that 
 was threatened ; and then calmly awaited the 
 attack of the enemy, which was not slow in 
 
 developing itself. 
 
 Schwartzenberg had conducted his advance 
 with an excess of caution. His prodigious 
 army was collected on the 13th, yet it was the 
 23rd ere he forced the passes of the hills, and 
 now only on the 26th he made his final dispo- 
 sitions for the attack of Dresden. Of the local 
 situation of that city I have said enough to 
 give my readers some notion of the arena on 
 which this great battle was fought. Standing 
 astride upon the Elbe, the capital of Saxony 
 
258 
 
 THE CAMPAIGN 
 
 OF- 1813. 
 
 259 
 
 occupies the centre of an enormous plain, the 
 hills that surround which approach, in no in- 
 stance, within three English miles of the glacis, 
 and in addition to its ancient fortifications, it 
 was, at the period at which I now speak, girdled 
 in on all hands by redoubts and field-works. 
 Of that outer line the remains are yet to be 
 seen by every traveller who follows the direct 
 road to Pirna. They run from the Grosse 
 Garten, which they include, all the way to the 
 Elbe. On the other flanks of the city, from 
 the Grosse Garten to the Elbe again, they are 
 almost entirely effaced. But on the 26th of 
 August 1813, they were at least respectable ; 
 and in the partial combats which had taken 
 place over-night, though some had fallen, the 
 rest were stoutly maintained. It was to be 
 determined, that day, how far they were or 
 were not impregnable. 
 
 The field of battle ranged from the Elbe, on 
 the right of the Allied columns, to Plouen on 
 the left. The points of attack were the gates of 
 Pilnitz, Pirna, Dohna, Dippoldiswald, Blender, 
 or Plouen, and Freiberg. It was about four in 
 the afternoon when the discharge of their can- 
 
 non from the heights of Recknitz, where the 
 head-quarters of the Allies had fixed themselves, 
 gave notice that the various columns were in 
 motion . Nearly one hundred and fifty thousand 
 men, moving forward at the recognised signal, 
 presented to the eyes of the inhabitants a most 
 imposing spectacle, while at the same time, a 
 continued line of batteries, all the way from 
 Recknitz to Plouen, opened their fire. Shells 
 and cannon-balls fell like hail in the suburbs, 
 and the carnage was as indiscriminating as it 
 was terrible. 
 
 There had not yet been time for more 
 than the half of Napoleon's army to come 
 up. He had scarce seventy thousand men 
 disposable ; but his position was a very favour- 
 able one, and he ably took advantage of 
 it. The guns from the advanced redoubts re- 
 plied to the enemies' cannonade with little 
 effect, and the Allies swept onwards without a 
 check. They had raised their cry, « To Paris! 
 To Paris !" and were already within a few yards 
 of the Plouen gate, when the word was passed 
 to the division of the Young Guard, which lay 
 behind it, and they sprang to their feet. The 
 
260 
 
 THE CAMPAIGN 
 
 OF 1813. 
 
 261 
 
 i 
 
 sortie is described by those who witnessed it, 
 to have been terrifically fine. Out dashed these 
 warriors, inured to victory, and bearing down 
 all opposition, rolled back the head of the 
 advancing columns, as a river is rolled back 
 by the tide when it meets it. There was a 
 fearful slaughter on both sides. The cannon 
 from the city walls plunged into the rear of the 
 wavering column. The infantry mowed down 
 its front ; the detached redoubts which it had 
 passed, as if despising them, took its whole 
 extent in reverse. There was neither time nor 
 space to deploy, and the attack was repulsed. 
 
 The same, or nearly the same results, had 
 attended the attempts of the Allies on the 
 other gates. They were everywhere defeated, 
 their defeat being occasioned not less, perhaps, 
 by surprise at finding Napoleon himself in 
 their front, than by the impetuosity of the 
 French attacks. They retreated in gi-eat con- 
 fusion, the Russians to Blazewitz, the Prussians 
 over the plain, the Hungarian grenadiers under 
 Colloredo to Eecknitz, and the Austrians to the 
 defiles of Plouen. There they could not be 
 followed up, because night was already closing, 
 
 and of the French army a large portion 
 were yet at a distance. One success more, 
 however, attended Napoleon's arms ere he 
 slept; the Austrians, rallying a corps in the 
 dark, made a dash, with great gallantry, at the 
 gate of Plouen ; but they were repulsed. And 
 then, one party in the open fields, the other 
 among the lanes and streets of the city, the 
 jaded and harassed armies lay down to sleep. 
 
 It was a night of terrible storm. The rain 
 came down in such torrents as to reduce the 
 whole plain to the consistency of a morass, and 
 the rivers rose to a degree such as had hardly 
 occurred before within so limited a space of 
 time. Yet was Napoleon busy till long past 
 midnight, in giving directions for the morrow. 
 He saw by their line of fires that the Allies had 
 resumed the wide semicircle which they occu- 
 pied previous to the attack, and he fixed his 
 plans accordingly. The whole of the cavalry, 
 with the exception of that of the Guard, which 
 had previously acted on the level from the 
 Pilnitz gate, was drawn through the city, and 
 placed in position under Murat, in the suburb 
 of Frederick-stadt. It was to push, at early 
 
262 
 
 THE CAMPAIGN 
 
 OF 1813. 
 
 263 
 
 ill 
 
 ! 
 
 dawn, along the Freiberg road, and cut off the 
 retreat of the Allies in that direction. Mean- 
 while Victor, with his infantry corps, was to 
 debouch from the Freiberg barriers, and attack 
 in front the Austrian line, which Murat was 
 directed to turn. In the centre, between the 
 gates of Dippoldiswald and Dohna, Marmont 
 was to occupy the attention of the force which 
 had fallen back upon the heights of Recknitz. 
 St. Cyr, in prolongation of the line, was to 
 operate from the Grosse Garten; while Ney 
 and the Duke of Treviso, with four divisions of 
 the Young Guard, were from the Pirna road to 
 engage the enemy's right, and to give time to 
 General Nansouty, with his cavalry corps, to 
 effect the same manoeuvre on this flank which 
 Murat had received instructions to accomplish 
 on the other. Thus was it calculated that the 
 Allies driven in, column upon column, and shut 
 out from two of their four lines of retreat, 
 would suffer terrible loss, and an opportunity 
 be afforded to Vandamme of completing their 
 destruction. 
 
 The morning of the 27th came in with a 
 continuance of rain, almost as heavy as that 
 
 which had fallen during the night ; yet the 
 battle was not deferred. Murat, on the one 
 side, and Nansouty on the other, began their 
 respective marches at peep of dawn ; and being 
 well masked, and supported by the attacks of 
 the infantry, they made rapid progress. This 
 is the more to be wondered at, on the part of 
 the former officer, that a coiys d'armee under 
 General Klenau, which had failed to reach its 
 ground in time, was now in full advance, and 
 its leading divisions showed themselves at 
 Gorbitz as early as seven in the morning. Had 
 the Allies held their own ground, leaving it to 
 him to close up or fall back, as occasion might 
 require, they would have probably fared better 
 than they did. As it was, they extended their 
 front, from above Plouen, across the valley of 
 Tharandt, and, endeavouring to stretch out their 
 hand to Klenau, gave Murat the opportunity to 
 pierce them. 
 
 The battle of Dresden was, along the centre 
 of the line, little else than a furious cannonade. 
 The French had nothing to gain by rendering 
 it more close, and the Allies seemed indisposed 
 to assume the offensive. It was a ball from 
 
264 
 
 THE CAMPAIGN 
 
 one of the batteries, which replied at a disad- 
 vantage to those of the Allies above Recknitz, 
 which mortally w^ounded Moreau. His fate 
 has been recorded by so many pens, that I 
 need not employ mine to swell the list, and 
 himself either lauded or censured, according as 
 the prejudices of the writers leaned to the side 
 of Napoleon or the Allies. Let his merits have 
 been what they might, in a moral point of 
 view, nobody can refuse to him the renown of 
 an able officer; and to the esteem in which 
 the Emperor of Russia held him, the stone 
 which marks the spot where he fell, bears wit- 
 ness. It is a simple block of freestone, and 
 bears this inscription, "Moreau, the warrior, 
 fell here, beside his friend Alexander." But 
 on both flanks more important operations went 
 forward. The French carried every thing 
 before them. From Cotta, which he had won, 
 Murat turned upon the advanced guard of 
 Klenau's corps, and destroyed it. He then 
 j^ressed forward, bearing down all opposition, 
 and making prisoners of whole battalions, whose 
 muskets had become so saturated, that they 
 could not be discharged. In like manner, St. 
 
 OF 1813. 
 
 265 
 
 Cyr pushed back the Prussians on Gruna, while 
 Marmont and Nansouty drove the Russians 
 from position to position, and cleared the plain. 
 Both flanks, in short, were turned; and the 
 troops composing them driven in upon the 
 centre, and cut off from their proper lines of 
 retreat. But the French were too much en- 
 feebled to pursue the advantages which they 
 had gained with their accustomed spirit. 
 About three in the afternoon the cannonade 
 grew slack ; the Allies showed only a strong 
 rear-guard, and Napoleon returned to the city, 
 saying to those around him, - 1 am greatly 
 deceived if we shall not hear news of Van- 
 damme. It is his movement which has con- 
 strained the enemy to retreat thus abruptly." 
 
 The 28th was a day of continued and broken 
 retreat on the part of the Allies ; of movements 
 more tardy than, perhaps, they ought to have 
 been, on the part of the French. A great deal 
 of baggage, almost all the wounded, and many 
 prisoners, were abandoned by the fugitives ; yet, 
 in most cases, they won the defiles in tolerable 
 order, and were safe. Colloredo, covered by a 
 strong rear-guard, threaded the pass of Dip- 
 
 N 
 VOL. II. 
 
266 
 
 PETERSWALD. 
 
 poldiswald, and had Toplitz, the point of re- 
 union, in view. The rest made their escape 
 likewise, though with more of confusion ; and, 
 in one striking instance, they would not have 
 succeeded at all, had not Vandamme been en- 
 ticed into the grievous error of leaving the 
 heights of Peterswald unguarded. It was this 
 blunder of his, which caused the disaster at 
 Kulm; and in order to make clear the brief 
 account which I am going to give of that 
 battle, it will be necessary to revert to my own 
 movements, so that the ground may be de- 
 scribed as by an eye-witness. 
 
 The village of Peterswald lies at the 
 northern base of a range of heights, which, 
 circling round, place Toplitz in the centre of a 
 huge amphitheatre. On this side the ascent 
 is gradual, and the face of the hill open and 
 cultivated. In a military point of view, there- 
 fore, the position is admirable ; it forms a per- 
 fect glacis. As you wind your way upwards, 
 moreover, the view becomes, at every step, 
 more and more interesting, till having gained 
 the ridge, — where a windmill is built, — it is 
 glorious in the extreme. You look down upon 
 
 VALE OF TOPLITZ. 
 
 267 
 
 a valley, of which it is scarcely too much to say, 
 that the eye of man has never beheld anything 
 more perfect. Deep, deep, it lies, enclosed on 
 every side by mountains, which, sloping away 
 one from another, resemble so many prodigious 
 cones, and open out to you the gorges of count- 
 less glens; each, as it would appear, more 
 exquisitely beautiful than another. The vale 
 of Toplitz itself may measure, perhaps, where 
 it is widest, some six or eight English miles 
 across; where it is least wide, the interval 
 between the mountains is scarcely one mile. 
 But it is in all directions fertile and luxuriant 
 in the extreme. Waving woods, rich corn- 
 fields, vineyards, meadows, and groves, are 
 there; with towns, and villages, and castles, 
 and hamlets, scattered through them, even as 
 the hand of the painter would desire to arrange 
 them. Nor is the running stream, that most 
 indispensable of all features in a landscape of 
 perfect beauty, wanting. The Pala rolls his 
 waters through the valley; and if he be incon- 
 siderable in point of size, yet is he limpid and 
 clear; with width enough to catch the sun's 
 rays, from time to time, as they fall, and throw 
 
 N 2 
 
268 
 
 MOVEMENTS OF VANDAMME. 
 
 KULM. 
 
 269 
 
 them back almost brighter in the reflection 
 than in the reality. Altogether it is as strik- 
 ing a panorama as any which, even in Bohemia 
 
 one will easily find. 
 
 Vandamme had received orders to pass the 
 Elbe between Lilienstein and Konigstein ; and 
 pushing back whatever corps the Allies might 
 have left at Pirna, to establish himself on the 
 summit of this ridge. He obeyed these in- 
 structions so well, that, in spite of the gallant 
 resistance of Prince Eugene of Wurtemberg, he 
 carried his point. The heights of Peterswald 
 were in his possession on the 28th ; it would 
 have been well for his master had he attempted 
 nothing further. Vandamme, however, was 
 ambitious of earning the marshaVs baton by 
 something more than mere obedience to an 
 order received. He saw^ that Toplitz was 
 uncovered, and knowing that the possession of 
 that place would render him master of all the 
 passes that diverge from it, he resolved, on the 
 29th, to make the essay. He descended from 
 his mountain throne, and penetrated as far as 
 
 Kulm. 
 
 The hill, which, with a portion only of his 
 
 force, Vandamme had abandoned, is, on that 
 side which looks down into the vale of Top- 
 litz, steep, well nigh to perpendicular. Huge 
 forests clothe its rugged face; out of which 
 bold rocks protrude ; indeed, such is the nature 
 of the country, that the road is carried back- 
 wards and forwards almost in a zig-zag, in order 
 to render it accessible. This mountain, in a 
 military point of view, all but impassable. Van- 
 damme placed behind him ; leaving, however, 
 a strong division to guard it, and nothing 
 doubting of his own success. But he had mis- 
 calculated the time which was at his disposal. 
 Six and twenty hours would have sufficed,— 
 six were quite inadequate, and he found them 
 so. He pushed on, however, to Kulm. It is 
 a neat village, with a modern schloss beside it ; 
 and a church, which crowns a low green hill, in 
 its centre. There are some extensive planta- 
 tions near ; the Pala flows among them ; and 
 between it and the mountains on the right, 
 there is a space of less than two miles. He 
 o-ained it almost without firing a shot, for the 
 force in Toplitz was quite inconsiderable, and his 
 arrival occasioned such panic in that, the head- 
 
270 
 
 ATTACK ON 
 
 TOPLITZ. 
 
 271 
 
 quarters of the confederation, that kings, and 
 emperors, and princesses, dispersed in all direc- 
 tions. One half league, indeed, was all that 
 divided his patrols from their prize, when a 
 serious resistance began. General Ostermann, 
 with six thousand of the Russian Imperial Guard, 
 received orders to stop the French at all hazards. 
 He threw himself across the road, drove back 
 their advanced guard, and held his ground so 
 tenaciously, that nothing could move him. 
 Ostermann himself lost an arm ; the elite of 
 the Russian guard died where they fought ; but 
 Toplitz was saved, and the certain ruin which 
 its capture would have brought upon the Allied 
 cause was averted. 
 
 When a fierce battle once begins, there is no 
 calculatinof in what results it may terminate. 
 Vandamme became irritated by the resistance 
 which was made to him; and, still hoping to 
 bear it down, sent continually for reinforce- 
 ments. The heights of Peterswald were, in 
 consequence, gradually denuded of guards, and 
 at last not so much as a picquet remained to 
 observe what might approach them. The fresh 
 columns were numerous and brave, but they 
 
 arrived too late at the scene of action. Already 
 were the leading battalions of Barclay de 
 Tolly's corps in the field, and brigade after 
 brigade followed them. Then, indeed, Van- 
 damme began to perceive that he would have 
 acted more judiciously had he adhered strictly 
 to Napoleon's orders. But not being aware of 
 all the difficulties of his position, he did not 
 like to abandon it; and merely changed his 
 ground so as to embrace Kulm in his line, and 
 there awaited on the morrow a renewal of the 
 
 contest. 
 
 Vandamme committed a very grievous error 
 
 in this. The night was at his own disposal, 
 and he ought to have availed himself of it to 
 recover the heights of Peterswald. His pride 
 took the alarm ; and, trusting that the Allies, 
 defeated before Dresden, would be utterly dis- 
 organised, and that their pursuers would arrive 
 close upon their heels, let them appear in what 
 quarter they might, he made up his mind to 
 give battle again on the 30th. The dawn of 
 that day showed him that his enemies had been 
 more prudent than he. Not his front only, 
 but both flanks were threatened ; that is to say, 
 
272 
 
 BATTLE 
 
 OF KULM. 
 
 273 
 
 the Allies, gathering additional strength from 
 hour to hour, had completely overlapped his 
 right ; while his left, closed in by the moun- 
 tains, was at once supported, and rendered, for 
 any movement in retreat, completely useless. 
 The Allies came on with great courage, some- 
 where about eighty thousand men being in 
 their line ; and till two o'clock the battle raged 
 with indescribable fury. But the odds were 
 irresistable. Vandamme began, in the pre- 
 sence of the victor, a retrogressive movement, 
 which ought to have been accomplished under 
 shadow of the darkness. It was made to no 
 purpose. To the horror and amazement of the 
 French, to the surprise and joy of the Allies, 
 Kleist's corps of Prussians showed themselves 
 on the heights; and, descending by the only 
 road which Vandamme had counted upon as 
 open, placed him entirely in a cul de sac. The 
 French were utterly confounded. They lost 
 all order, all confidence, both in themselves and 
 their leaders; and, rushing furiously up the 
 ascent, endeavoured to break through. More- 
 over, so completely unlooked-for, on the side 
 of the Prussians, was the situation in which 
 
 they found themselves, that at first they did not 
 well know how to act. Five hundred French 
 cavalry broke in upon a division of the land- 
 wehr ; sabred many of the infantry, and, for a 
 moment, gained possession of the guns. But 
 it was only for a moment. The Prussians re- 
 covered from their surprise; and never was 
 defeat more absolute than that which Van- 
 damme's luckless corps sustained. Many pri- 
 soners were taken, including the general-in- 
 chief. All the artillery, ammunition cars, and 
 standards, fell into the hands of the Allies, and 
 the remnant of the men that did escape made 
 their way, one by one, and destitute even of 
 their arms, through the forest, where tract 
 there was none. 
 
 Such is a true detail of the leading events in 
 the battle of Kulm ; a victory of which the 
 Austrians, with great justice, make much; 
 which they, the Russians, and Prussians, have 
 equally commemorated by monuments erected 
 on the spot, but for which the imprudence of 
 the French commander is at least as much to 
 be thanked as the sagacity of Colloredo, or the 
 daring of Kleist. It was, with one exception,. 
 
 N 3 
 
miimmmfmitmmmtmmi'V^ 
 
 274 
 
 BATTLE 
 
 f 
 
 OF KULM. 
 
 275 
 
 ! I 
 
 ^the noble resistance of the Russian Guard 
 
 under Ostermann, — a gross blunder on both 
 sides ; it might in its results have been fatal to 
 either, though it ended in the discomfiture of 
 the French. For the Allies, who had been on 
 the very eve of falling out among themselves, 
 were, in consequence of the success at Kulm, 
 reunited ; and the tide of victory, which had 
 flowed so fiercely against them a few days pre- 
 viously, turned once more in their favour. Of 
 its course, however, I have, in this place, no 
 business to speak. Let me, therefore, return 
 to myself and my own proceedings. 
 
 I had stood before this upon the ridge of the 
 hill, and looked forth over the battle field 
 below. I had quitted my own carriage, and 
 w\ilked down ; as I quitted now the diligence 
 for the same purpose, and held converse with a 
 stone-breaker by the wayside, whose cross, 
 marked with the titles of many battles, told 
 that, among others, lie had borne his part in 
 the fight of Kulm. He described to me the 
 confusion, both of the French and Prussian 
 corps, as something of which I could form no 
 conception. Both sides lost even the semblance 
 
 of order, and through the deep forest, and over 
 the slope of the defile, there was one ceaseless 
 combat of man to man. The quantity of dead, 
 likewise, that covered the hill-side, was pro- 
 digious; indeed, it took the country people, 
 who were pressed for the occasion, two whole 
 days to bury them. How changed was the 
 scene now! The outward forms of nature, 
 doubtless, retained their identity; but wood, 
 and ravine, and defile, and sweeping level, all 
 lay under me, as quiet and as peaceful as if 
 the sounds of war had never been heard among 
 them. I was enchanted with my walk down 
 
 the steep. 
 
 The village of Kulm suffered, of course, ter- 
 ribly during the melee. The church had been 
 burned to the ground, as well as the schloss ; 
 and of the cottages and vineyards almost all 
 had been beaten to pieces. There were now 
 church, schloss, cottages, and vineyards all 
 blooming and fresh, as if no such calamity had 
 ever overtaken them. The inhabitants, too, 
 unmindful as men ever are of evils that have 
 befallen to others, and even to themselves, long 
 ago, delight in nothing so much as in replying 
 
276 
 
 MONUMENTS. 
 
 REACH TOPLITZ. 
 
 277 
 
 to the questions which curious travellers, like 
 myself, may chance to put to them. But the 
 cicerone ea* officio, to whom references are in- 
 variably made, is a fine old Austrian invalid, 
 to whose care the charge of the monuments 
 is intrusted. The old fellow is not, I must 
 confess, very intelligent; but he displays his 
 orders with manifest and most commendable 
 pride, and assures you that General Colloredo, 
 who that day received his mortal wound, was 
 the best soldier in the emperor's service. Of 
 the monuments themselves I need say no more 
 than that they occupy a space where the roads 
 from Tetschen and Dresden meet ; in which, as 
 it appears, the fighting was very desperate, and 
 where Colloredo fell. That erected by the 
 Austrians is much more massive than its rival ; 
 and professes to commemorate rather the merits 
 of the commander than the valour of the troops. 
 The Prussian is a small, but singularly neat 
 obelisk, and bears this inscription, " A grateful 
 king and country honour the heroes who fell." 
 There is a third in progress, of which the Empe- 
 ror of Russia is the founder ; but it is not yet 
 completed. It ought to be the most magni- 
 
 1|S 
 
 ficent of the whole ; for assuredly the success 
 of the day was owing more to the stubborn 
 hardihood of the Russian Guards, than to any 
 efforts either of Austrians or Prussians. 
 
 From Kulm to Toplitz you pass through a 
 lovely valley, with mountains, as I have already 
 described them, on either side of you. Along 
 the bases of those to the right, lie several pic- 
 turesque villages, with a modern schloss here 
 and there, and here and there a ruin. Among 
 others, the remains of the castle of Dux, one 
 of Wallenstein's numerous mansions, is espe- 
 cially remarkable. By-and-by, as you approach 
 the town, you see on your left the dilapidated 
 towers of Dobrawska Hora, an extensive pile, 
 built, as we were told, early in the thirteenth 
 century, and owned and inhabited, in 1616, by 
 Count Kinsky, Wallenstein's brother-in-law. 
 And last of all, you enter the town itself; of 
 which I shall speak as I found it on a previous 
 visit ; when, instead of hurrying on as we did 
 now, after a single night's rest, we spent some 
 pleasant days at one of the best and cheapest 
 of German inns, the Hotel de Londres. 
 
278 
 
 GERMAN WATERING-PLACES. 
 
 279 
 
 '111 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 TOPLITZ. — ITS GAIETIES. — JOURNEY RESUMED. — FIRST VIEW 
 
 OF PRAGUE. GENERAL CHARACTER OF THE CITY. 
 
 THE HRADSCHIN. CATHEDRAL. UNIVERSITY. — HISTO- 
 RICAL DETAILS CONNECTED WITH IT. THE REFORMA- 
 TION IN BOHEMIA. 
 
 The German Spas, or watering-places, especially 
 those of the first rank, seem to me to offer the 
 best opportunities which a stranger can desire 
 for the study of the German character, as, in 
 its most unguarded moments, it presents itself 
 to notice. Whatever a man's rank or station 
 may be, he seems, from the hour of his en- 
 trance into one of these regions of joy, to 
 lay aside, at least, all belonging to it, which 
 elsewhere may trammel or incommode him. 
 Princes, nobles, citizens, officers of every 
 class, natives, foreigners, soldiers, civilians, 
 and diplomatists, seem to be brought hither 
 by one impulse only, — that is, by the pursuit 
 of amusement. Business may be, and I doubt 
 
 not is, carried on elsewhere than in the shops, 
 but when or how people find time to attend 
 to it, may well puzzle all save the initiated. 
 I say nothing of the necessity under which 
 every human being appears to be laid, of 
 taking the baths as often as an opportunity 
 may offer ; for the bath is to a German what 
 his medicine chest is to an Englishman,— some- 
 thing without which he could never exist 
 throughout the year. But the round of amuse- 
 ments which is perpetually going on, the pro- 
 menade early in the morning, the ride in the 
 forenoon, the dinner at one o'clock, the music 
 and lounge afterwards, then the theatre or ball, 
 and last of all, the supper, these are the events 
 in Toplitz for which alone persons of every con- 
 dition seem to live. It is really a most ani- 
 mating spectacle for a few days, and then — 
 to me at least — it becomes irksome in the 
 
 extreme. 
 
 Witli the solitary exception, perhaps, of 
 
 Carlsbad, Toplitz takes rank as at once the 
 most fashionable and best ordered watering- 
 place in all Germany. It is the favourite re- 
 sort of the King of Prussia, who, without 
 
280 
 
 TOPLITZ. 
 
 TOPLITZ. 
 
 281 
 
 designing to lead a host of fine people in his 
 train, is, as he deserves to be, a centre of attrac- 
 tion. Singularly unassuming in all his habits, 
 he is to be seen passing to and fro, sometimes 
 on foot, without any attendant whatever, some- 
 times in a carriage, so i)lain, that it might 
 almost pass for a fiacre, or common hackney- 
 coach. It cannot be said that, in these re- 
 spects, the nobility of Russia, Austria, and the 
 German principalities in general, follow his 
 example. The Germans do not, indeed, affix 
 the same importance to splendid equipages and 
 fine horses which we find attached to them by 
 the aristocrats of Italy and Hungary ; but they 
 relish these things, to a certain extent, too; 
 and at Toplitz, — and to say the truth, at the 
 Spas in general, — they take care that their best 
 displays shall be made. The roads out of Top- 
 litz, in all directions, are, at the fashionable 
 hours, well filled with gaily-dressed parties, 
 both in carriages and on horseback. 
 
 Of Toplitz itself I may truly say, that I have 
 never seen a watering-place more perfectly 
 attractive in every sense of the word. The 
 town is not large ; its population falls short, I 
 
 believe, of three thousand, and the houses are 
 in proportion ; but there is about it an air of 
 cleanliness and civility which is peculiarly 
 gratifying, especially in Germany, where, sooth 
 to say, the latter quality is not always promi- 
 nently conspicuous. Approaching it, as we 
 did, from the side of Dresden, you drive through 
 a species of suburb,— that is, along a road lined 
 on either side by neat mansions, slightly de- 
 tached from one another, and are carried first 
 into a street, wide, and clean, and spacious, and 
 then into the Platz, or square, which forms a 
 constituent and important part of every Ger- 
 man town, be its dimensions what they may. 
 From the square again, which has a consider- 
 able declination towards the north, you pass 
 into another street, where all the principal 
 hotels are congregated, and at the extremity of 
 which is the chief attraction of the place, 
 Prince Clari's palace, with its noble and deli- 
 cious gardens. These latter come as near to 
 perfection in the peculiar school to which they 
 belong, as any thing of the sort which in any 
 part of the world I have visited. They are 
 laid out in long umbrageous walks, in exqui- 
 
282 
 
 PRINCE CLARl's GARDENS. 
 
 WATERS OF TOPLITZ. 
 
 283 
 
 ;lli: 
 
 sitely kept lawns, in bowers, alcoves, and a lake 
 at once extensive and well managed ; and are, 
 with characteristic liberality, thrown open to 
 the public at all hours, both of night and day. 
 Nay, nor is this all. Bands of music play here 
 and there amid its alcoves ; there is a sort of 
 cojBfee-house or restaurateur within the gates ; 
 and the theatre may almost be said to form part 
 of the establishment, so close is it planted to the 
 prince's residence. There is exceeding kindli- 
 ness of heart shown in all this, of wliich it is 
 not easy for us, the creatures of a different edu- 
 cation, to estimate aright the value. Tf^e 
 should be bored beyond expression were our 
 parks and pleasure-grounds thronged from dawn 
 till dusk by kings, princes, nobles, citizens, and 
 peasants. To the Prince Clari, the conscious- 
 ness that it affords the means of innocent re- 
 creation to his fellow-creatures seems to be the 
 chief enjoyment which he derives from the pos- 
 session of this lordly residence. 
 
 I am not going to describe either the baths 
 themselves, or the customs which prevail in mak- 
 ing use of them. Enough is done when I state 
 that, in addition to the public establishments. 
 
 where the humbler classes take the waters gra- 
 tuitously, there are somewhere about ninety pri- 
 vate bathing houses in the place, the demand for 
 which, during the height of the season, is such 
 that you must bespeak your turn at least a day 
 or two beforehand, and adhere to the appointed 
 minute religiously. For nobody is allowed to 
 remain in the bathing-room more than three- 
 quarters of an hour at a time, one quarter out 
 of the four being claimed as necessary to clean 
 out and prepare the apartment for the next 
 visiter. The waters, I need scarcely add, be- 
 long to the class of alkalo-saline, and take their 
 rise among the Erzgebirge, or Ore Mountains, 
 hard by. They are extremely hot, and are 
 regarded as especially useful in all cases of 
 rheumatic or gouty affections. It is worthy of 
 remark, that the Austrian medical officers send 
 the valetudinary among the soldiers to these 
 baths from a very great distance. When I was 
 there, I saw detachments belonging to almost 
 all the regiments which occupy quarters in 
 Bohemia ; and I was given to understand that 
 they had come thither as invalids, and would, 
 when cured, return to their respective stations. 
 
284 
 
 MODE OF LIFE 
 
 AT TOPLITZ. 
 
 285 
 
 The Germans, though not famous for their 
 hospitality, are proverbially a gregarious people ; 
 and at Toplitz, and indeed at all the watering- 
 places, they appear to live in public. There 
 are tables-d'hote at all the principal hotels, 
 where, both at dinner and supper, the company 
 meet on terms of the most easy familiarity. 
 To enhance the pleasure of the feast, moreover, 
 Bohemian minstrels, — not unfrequently women, 
 — come and sit down in the Saal while you are 
 eating, and sing and play with equal taste and 
 harmony. While this is going on within, 
 dense crowds collect about the doors and win- 
 dows in the street, with whose proximity, — as 
 the genuine love of music attracts them, and 
 they are as orderly and well-behaved as the 
 most fastidious could desire, — no human being 
 is, or can be, annoyed. By-and-by, the meal 
 comes to a close, and then the guests either 
 sally forth to enjoy the fresh air in the Prince 
 of Clari's garden, or sit down on benches along 
 the trottoir, and smoke their pipes as content- 
 edly and joyously as if they were a thousand 
 miles removed from an Englishman's horror, — 
 the public eye. I dare say there might be 
 
 some tincture of prejudice about me, but I con- 
 fess that I regretted to see the clergy fall iu 
 so freely with this latter custom. A priest 
 smoking his pipe on a form, in a public street, 
 beside the window of an inn, did not appear to 
 me to be quite in his legitimate position. 
 
 I did not find that there were any public 
 gaming-houses in Toplitz ; though it was whis- 
 pered that the practice of gaming was not un- 
 known in private circles. It may be so ; though 
 I am bound to say that I could perceive no 
 evidences of it. In like manner, a thousand 
 tales were told of other matters which went 
 forward sedulously, of which it is not worth 
 while to take notice. But the general impres- 
 sion left upon my mind by a few days' sojourn 
 in the town was, that it had all the charms about 
 it which we expect to find in fashionable water- 
 ing-places, and that he who could not make 
 himself happy there for a season, must lay the 
 blame, not upon the scene of other people s 
 enjoyments, but on his own temper or preju- 
 dices. Neither did I relish it the less from 
 finding that it was very little frequented by my 
 countrjTuen. There had been but one English 
 
 '"i 
 
 f 
 
 : I 
 
 i 
 
 M\ 
 
 It: 
 
286 
 
 JOURNEY 
 
 family there before we arrived, and they, I am 
 happy to say, left an excellent name behind 
 
 them. 
 
 The country between Toplitz and Prague, 
 
 after you have passed over the heights of 
 Wacliholderberg is not, in a picturesque point 
 of view, very interesting. The chateau of Krze- 
 musch, with its fine garden, and the Teufels- 
 mauer, a basaltic precipice hard by, are indeed 
 worth the expenditure of an hour or two to 
 visit, while the situation of Bilin, in the valley of 
 Bila, is beautiful. But you soon escape from 
 the mountains, and then, for many miles, the eye 
 finds little on which it need pine to linger, more 
 attractive, at least, than a wide extent of culti- 
 vation. The principal towns through which you 
 pass are Laun and Schlan, neither of them large 
 or very prosperous ; the rest are mere villages. 
 By degrees, however, as you come within what 
 may be described as the vortex of Prague, a great 
 change is perceptible. The country becomes 
 much more broken and undulating, while here 
 and there, from the summit of a hill, elevated 
 above the rest, the view which you command 
 is both striking and extensive. At last, the 
 
 TO PRAGUE. 
 
 287 
 
 White Mountain, as it is called, lies before you, 
 and by an easy and almost imperceptible ascent, 
 you arrive at its crest. There it will, indeed, 
 be worth your while to pause ; for a finer scene 
 of its kind you will rarely look down upon in 
 any country of the world. 
 
 Along the shores of the broad Moldau, and 
 climbing, as it were, the steep hills which girdle 
 it in, Prague lies at your feet. The river, flow- 
 ing on with a clear and gentle current, seems 
 to have cut it in twain. Yet are the characters 
 of these divisions more completely in unison than 
 in almost any other instance of a city so dealt 
 with which I remember to have seen. A thou- 
 sand towers, spires, minarets, and domes, shed 
 over the whole an air of magnificence which in 
 some sort partakes of the oriental. There are 
 hanging-gardens, too, and a noble bridge ; there 
 are large and exquisitely wooded islands in the 
 Moldau ; there is the A It Stadt on the further 
 bank, with its Thein Kirche, or Tyne Church, ce- 
 lebrated in story, and its venerable Town Hall ; 
 there is the Kleinseite nearer at hand, where 
 streets and squares, crowded with the residences 
 of the nobles, rise one above another, till they 
 
 .p 
 
 <,i\ 
 
 \ 1 
 
 < t'i 
 t 
 
 n 
 
288 
 
 GENERAL VIEW 
 
 terminate in the Old Palace, and the unfinished 
 cathedral of St. Vitus ; there is the Neu Stadt, 
 the handiwork of the Emperor Charles IV., 
 covering a prodigious extent of ground, and 
 enriched with the convents, hospitals, and 
 other public buildings, which owe their exist- 
 ence to the liberality of the Jesuits. There 
 are these, with a background of low, yet pic 
 turesque hills, surmounted here and there by 
 some blackened ruin, or other monument of 
 times gone by, which make up altogether one 
 of the most striking inland panoramas on 
 ^vhich I have any where had the good fortune 
 to gaze. We stopped our carriage some 
 minutes in order to enjoy it ; and then pushed 
 forward. At every step which we took in ad- 
 vance, objects of a varying but not a lessened 
 interest, met us. Now we .passed a monas- 
 tery, an extensive pile, but evidently of modem 
 construction ; now a convent of English nuns 
 was pointed out to us. By-and-by the road 
 sank down into a sort of ravine, which shut 
 out all view except of the fortifications that 
 enclose the city, and block up the extremity of 
 the defile. Then began signs of active and 
 
 OF PRAGUE. 
 
 289 
 
 busy life to accumulate round us. Country- 
 men, with their wains, were met or overtaken ; 
 bodies of cavalry, in their stable dresses, were 
 exercising their horses on the level ; here and 
 there an officer in uniform rode past us ; and 
 carriages, in which sat some of Bohemia's fairest 
 and noblest daughters, swept by. Next came 
 the barrier, the demand for passports, the draw- 
 bridge, over which our wheels rolled heavily ; 
 the exercising ground for the artillery, where a 
 strong brigade of guns was manoeuvring; a 
 momentary glimpse of the convent of St. Law- 
 rence, and the old towers of the oldest portion 
 of the palace ; after which we saw nothing dis- 
 tinctly, till our journey, properly so called, had 
 terminated. For our course lay down a very 
 steep street, and across the bridge into the Alt 
 Stadt, where at a hotel, rich in all the essentials 
 of food, and wine, and couches, though some- 
 w^hat deficient in the superfluity of cleanliness, 
 w^e established our head-quarters for a season. 
 
 Perhaps there is no city in the world which, 
 by the air which attaches to all its arrange- 
 ments, more completely separates you from the 
 present, and carries you back into the past, than 
 
 VOL. II. O 
 
 ' 
 
fll 
 
 290 
 
 GENERAL FEATURES 
 
 Prague. There is nothing in or around it; 
 there is no separate building, nor street, nor 
 square, within its walls, which is not more or 
 less connected by the strong link of association 
 ynth the mightiest and the most enduring 
 struggle of principle in which the Christian 
 world ever was engaged. Go where you will, 
 your eye rests on something which speaks to 
 you of a time when Prague was indeed a capi- 
 tal. Here in the Alt Stadt stands,— noble in 
 its decay— the old palace of K5nighof, the fa. 
 Tourite residence of Charles IV. There is the 
 Tyne or Thein Church, within which Huss, him- 
 self but the successor of Milicius and Stiekna, 
 and even Janovius the Parisian, denounced 
 the corruptions of Rome ; here the same town- 
 hall, where, by the gallant burghers, the doc- 
 trines of the Reformation were first avowed, 
 and within which, after a long and desperate 
 effort to maintain them, they were abjured, 
 not I suspect for ever. But it is not by look- 
 ing exclusively to what may be called the great 
 features of the city, that these and similar re- 
 miniscences are awakened. As you traverse 
 the streets, each edifice, be it lordly or humble, 
 
 .t 
 
 OF PRAGUE. 
 
 291 
 
 presents to your gaze some record of prouder 
 days. " Here an armorial device, there a saint, 
 with his golden circlet or burning lamps, or a 
 half-obliterated fresco, an arched balcony, a 
 fortified gateway, or an ornamented shrine*." 
 I heartily agree with the writer, from whose 
 spirited Sketches the preceding extract has 
 been taken, that this old and enduring charac- 
 ter of the city is not without its importance. 
 At a period when every political means is em- 
 ployed to efface and subdue the national cha- 
 racter, v> hen every act of social life, to be inno- 
 cent must be Austrian, it is well that there is a 
 power and a spirit in these unshaken walls, and 
 perennial customs, which must needs keep the 
 memory of their great origin and former energy 
 fresh in the hearts of the Bohemian people. 
 
 Wherever the stranger may have taken up 
 his abode, whether in the Alt Stadt, the Neu 
 Stadt, the Kleinsiete, or in one of the suburbs, 
 the first objects which he is tempted to visit 
 will naturally be the palace of the Hradschin^ 
 and the old cathedral. If, as is probable, he 
 
 * See some admirable sketches of Prague, in the Metro- 
 politan Magazine for 1836. 
 
 2 
 
 'I' I 
 'I I 
 
 u » 
 
292 
 
 THE BRIDGE. 
 
 THE HRADSCHIN. 
 
 293 
 
 have established himself in the Alt Stadt, it vrill 
 be necessary, in order to reach these points, that 
 he should cross the bridge,— a magnificent struc 
 ture, which like almost all the most enduring 
 monuments of human skill in the city, owes its 
 existence to Charles IV. It measures not less 
 than 1780 feet in length; it is supported upon 
 twelve noble arches ; it is protected at either 
 extremity by embattled towers,— in their day, 
 without doubt, very efficient mes du po7d, and 
 to adorn its parapets on either hand, it has the 
 statues of many saints, with more than one cru- 
 cifix and two chapels. Among these watchers 
 over the temporal and spiritual prosperity of 
 Bohemia, St. John of Nepomuc holds a con- 
 spicuous place. Being now in an especial manner 
 the guardian of bridges, his position here is more 
 honoured than that even of the Virgin herself: 
 he occupies the very centre of the pile, and 
 may be distinguished from the rest by the five 
 stars which glitter in their gilding round him ; 
 yet is his canonization an event of little more 
 than a century's growth. He was set up by 
 the Jesuits in 1729, in opposition to St. John 
 Huss, to whom the Bohemians, for many years 
 
 after the suppression of the Protestant worship 
 among them, continued to pay saintly honours ; 
 and he continues to this day, in the reverence 
 with which he is everywhere greeted, — a sort 
 of srallinff and vexatious, because constantly- 
 recurring memorial, of the system of mental 
 thraldom, mider which Bohemia has long 
 
 groaned. 
 
 From the bridge, you pass by a noble street, 
 where churches and stately mansions woo you 
 on either hand, up the steep ascent of the 
 Hradschin ; the summit of which will be most 
 speedily, and therefore comfortably, attained, if 
 you mount a flight of stone steps that faces 
 you after you have made a sh'ght turn to the 
 right. They conduct at once to the sort of 
 platform on which stand the old and new 
 palaces, the cathedral, the lodgings of the 
 canons, and the residences of some of the 
 official personages to whose charge these 
 buildings are committed. Of the cathedral, I 
 have already said, that it never was completed. 
 According to the traditions of the place, this 
 is, indeed, the third pile which, consecrated to 
 the worship of the true God, has graced the 
 
 
 * 
 
 I 
 
294 
 
 THE CATHEDRAL. 
 
 i; 
 
 
 brow of the Hradschin ; but the two first were 
 entirely destroyed by fire, and this, begun by 
 Charles IV., remains exactly as, in 1380, his 
 architects, Matthew of Arras, and Peter Arlieri, 
 left it. It is an extremely beautiful specimen 
 of the sort of Gothic which preceded that of 
 the date of our own Henry VII., and is sur- 
 mounted by a lantern-crown, similar in its 
 character, and not very different in its dimen- 
 sions, from that which is to be seen on the 
 tower of St. Giles's in Edinburgh. Yet is the 
 pile, when spoken of as a cathedral, a very sorry 
 edifice, for the choir is all, of his own noble 
 plan, which Charles was permitted to complete, 
 and there has arisen no king of Bohemia since 
 his day, who has cared to bring the work to a 
 conclusion. At the same time, both the choir, 
 and the unfinished chapels that surround it, 
 are strikingly beautiful. The former, embla- 
 zoned within with the shields of the house of 
 Hapsburg, with the armorial bearings of Bo- 
 hemia, Hungary, Styria, Moravia, Burgundy, 
 Spain, and Brabant, more resembles the private 
 chapel of a prince, than the metropolitical 
 church of a nation ; while the latter, crowded 
 
 \l 
 
 THE CATHEDRAL. 
 
 295 
 
 with memorials of other and earlier days, were, 
 at least by us, regarded with a still deeper and 
 holier interest. One of these, the chapel of 
 St. Wenceslas, the fourth Christian duke of 
 Bohemia, has its walls inlaid with native jasper, 
 agate, and other precious stones, and adorned 
 with frescoes, inferior, in point of merit, to none 
 which this century has produced. They are 
 attributed, some to Nicholas Wurmser of Stras- 
 burg, some to Dietrich of Prague, two of the 
 most renowned artists of their day, who with 
 many others, received at the hands of Charles, 
 the most liberal patronage and encouragement. 
 Moreover, the exterior of the wall, which looks 
 towards the palace, is richly ornamented with 
 mosaics. Many of the old Slavonian saints are 
 there, such as St. Sigismond, St. Procopius, St. 
 Vitus, St. Wenceslas, and others finely grouped 
 together ; while above them is a St. Veronica 
 head of Christ, which would not disgrace St. 
 Mark's in Venice itself. 
 
 From the cathedral to the palace is but a 
 step. Though called old in contradistinction 
 to a modern edifice which confronts it, and 
 which the emperor, when he visits his Bohe- 
 mian capital, usually occupies, this building. 
 
 * i 
 
 
 I 
 
 ; I 
 
 \ 
 
 \ih 
 
 !i 
 
296 
 
 VIEW FROM 
 
 in almost all its portions, is of a date not more 
 ancient than the fourteenth century. The Hall 
 of Ladislas, with two or three towers near the 
 postern, belong, indeed, to the original building, 
 but the remainder of the pile, with the cathedral 
 beside it, uprose at the bidding of Charles IV. 
 Nothing can exceed the splendour of the view 
 which you obtain from the windows of its apart- 
 ments. The whole of Prague is beneath you. 
 There lies the Kleinsiete, with the great 
 'cupola of St. Nicholas, a church of the 
 Jesuits, in the foreground : there is AValien- 
 stein's palace, gathered round the base of the 
 rock, and testifying to the enormous wealth 
 and princely expenditure of its founder ; — here, 
 on the right, is the Lobkowitz palace, with its 
 gardens, rising step by step upon the side of 
 the adjacent hill, over which, like a diadem, 
 stands the Premonstratensian convent of Stra- 
 how,— an edifice imperfect in its proportions, 
 yet as a whole strikingly effective. From these, 
 the eye turns naturally to the Moldau, with its 
 noble bridge and islands of perfect beauty; 
 while beyond it are the Alt Stadt, and a vast 
 circle of suburbs, — the former, venerable and 
 striking from its multitudinous towers, its one 
 
 THE HRADSCHIN. 
 
 297 
 
 great cupola, and its peaked roofs ; the latter, 
 contmsting finely with it in the simplicity of 
 its large yet unadorned white buildings. Nei- 
 ther will the stranger fail to have pointed out 
 to him, the two small obelisks, vs^hich, on a 
 narrow terrace immediately below the palace, 
 mark the spot where Martinitz and Slawata 
 fell, when, at the commencement of the Thirty 
 Years' War, they were thrown out of the win- 
 dows of the Green Chamber. And it is worthy 
 of remark, that this summary mode of dealing 
 with obnoxious individuals, is by no means 
 unfrequently alluded to in the annals of Bohe- 
 mia. These two emissaries of a detested party 
 escaped, indeed, unhurt ; for they fell upon a 
 bed of manure, and were carried off, and nursed, 
 and aided in their subsequent flight by the 
 Princess Penelope of Lobkowitz. But through- 
 out the Hussite troubles, and in times anterior 
 to them, the right of putting to death by 
 casting from towers and over windows, was 
 claimed and exercised by those in power ; nay, 
 and more curious still, it was justified before 
 the world as a constitutional privilege. 
 
 As I have already stated, the remains of the 
 
 o 3 
 

 298 
 
 THE OLD AND 
 
 NEW PALACES. 
 
 299 
 
 Old Palace, properly so called, comprehend no 
 more than a single hall, the Hall of Ladislas, 
 and a few dilapidated towers, in one of which 
 is the Green Room. There is not much there- 
 fore, apart from the glorious view, and the 
 historical associations connected with it, to 
 detain the traveller long, who may, or may not, 
 just as the humour takes him, pay a visit in 
 passing, to what is called the gallery of 
 paintings. He will find there no remains 
 whatever of the magnificent collection which 
 the Emperor Rodolph brought from Italy, and 
 very few pieces, the examination of which will 
 repay him for the time that he wastes upon 
 them. Yet one ludicrous representation of hell 
 may, perhaps, provoke a smile ; and the portrait 
 pf Ziska, whether like to the original or other- 
 wise, as it is pointed out by the valet du place 
 with honest pride, so is it sure to put in its 
 claim to more than a passing notice. For 
 Ziska was among the great ones of the earth. 
 It is probable, therefore, that he will pass, as I 
 did, rapidly into the New Palace, of which 
 several of the apartments are very fine, and all 
 have at least something about them which 
 
 interests. Here is the audience-room, for 
 example, where the emperor holds his levees, 
 or receives such petitions as his loving subjects 
 may find an opportunity of presenting. Here, 
 likewise, is the Hall of Assembly for the States, 
 — a plain apartment, adjoining to the audience- 
 chamber, and communicating with it by a 
 private door. For the States appear to go 
 through the form of meeting at appointed 
 seasons, and of voting,— all the privilege which 
 they now enjoy, — such a sum as the crown may 
 think fit to require. The concert-room, also, 
 and the ball-room, and indeed the whole suite 
 which royalty is assumed to occupy, may be 
 visited with advantage; and the views from 
 their several windows are superb. I do not, 
 however, advise anybody to linger here; for 
 there is much to be seen, and examined, and 
 inquired into elsewhere, and in conducting such 
 researches, unless time be absolutely at our own 
 disposal, even moments are of value. 
 
 Being duly impressed with the importance of 
 this truth, my travelling companion and I made 
 our sojourn in the New Palace as brief as was 
 consistent with a moderate gratification of the 
 
 ! ' 
 
 V. 
 
300 
 
 PUBLIC GARDEN. 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY. 
 
 301 
 
 f • 
 
 feeling which led us to visit it at all. We then 
 wound round the rear of the hill ; and descend- 
 ing into a sort of ravine, just outside the ram- 
 parts, found ourselves in an exceedingly beau- 
 tiful public garden. It was full of company, 
 who passed to and fro, or sat in groups upon 
 benches, under the shade of the trees, and 
 sipped their lemonade, or ate their ices, while 
 listening to a couple of bands, which discoursed 
 very eloquent music. Altogether the scene 
 was extremely pleasing and gay, yet we did not 
 venture to enjoy it. So as we turn our backs 
 upon it, let me cease, for a while, to write in 
 the first person, that I may the more effec- 
 tively deal with the somewhat grave and im- 
 portant matters, which it has become necessary 
 to discuss. 
 
 I have alluded to the three grand compart- 
 ments into which Prague is divided, namely, 
 the Kleinsiete, the Alt Stadt, and the Neu 
 Stadt. Of the first as much has been said as 
 is necessary for my present purpose ; because, 
 though it be the residence of the bulk of the 
 nobility, and can boast of more than one 
 superb church, whatever there may be of his- 
 
 I 
 
 toric interest about it, links itself almost exclu- 
 sively with the Hradschin. In the Alt Stadt, 
 on the contrary, we find, in addition to the 
 Tvne Church and the Town Hall, the Caro- 
 linuni, or college in which medical, legal, and 
 scientific education is carried on; and the 
 Clementinum, a great seminary for the diffu- 
 sion of theological and philosophical lore. They 
 are all that remain of the University of Prague, 
 at one period the most celebrated in Europe ; 
 and having been renewed — the former, at least, 
 — so recently as 1744, even the traces of the 
 architectural arrangements which once belonged 
 to them, are obliterated. Still they demand 
 inspection, of which the labour will be com- 
 pensated, as well by a survey of the magnificent 
 halls and rich collections which adorn them, as 
 on account of the train of thought to which 
 insensibly they give rise. It is to the latter, as 
 they connect themselves with the past and 
 present history of the country, that I w i^i, on 
 this occasion, to confine myself. 
 
 The establishment of an university in the 
 capital of Bohemia, was the work of the Em- 
 peror Charles IV. It was founded in 1348, 
 
 ; } t 
 
 t \ 
 
 . 
 
 ! 
 
1 : 
 
 302 
 
 OPPOSITION TO 
 
 just one year after Charles ascended the 
 throne ; and consisted, when complete, of eight 
 colleges ; of which the constitution seems, in 
 every respect, to have corresponded with that 
 of the similar establishments in Oxford and 
 Cambridge. Of these, the Collegium Magnum 
 was endowed by Charles himself for a master 
 and twelve fellows ; the Collegium Reginse 
 Hedvigis obtained its revenues from Queen 
 Hedwige, of Poland, the enlightened founder 
 of the Jagellonian University at Cracow; while, 
 in 1451, the College of the Apostles was en- 
 dowed for the maintenance of students, whose 
 exclusive business it should be to maintain the 
 ridits which the church in Bohemia had ac- 
 quired by the famous Compacta Basilicana. 
 Of these it is necessary that some notice should 
 
 be taken. 
 
 Perhaps there is nothing connected with the 
 annals of the Romish church more remarkable, 
 than the early and rooted aversion exhibited 
 both to its doctrines and its ceremonies, by 
 that very province in the Austrian empire 
 which is now, more than all others, given over 
 to Popery. According to the best authenti- 
 
 THE ROMISH CHURCH. 
 
 303 
 
 cated records, the conversion of the Bohemians 
 to Christianity took place about the middle of 
 the ninth century, or still later; and within less 
 than a hundred years we find them in rebellion 
 against the supreme pontiff, because the Latin 
 tongue was employed in the celebration of 
 divine worship, and celibacy was enjoined upon 
 the clergy. The adoption of a Latin ritual 
 was, however, forced upon Duke Wratislaus, by 
 Gregory VII., who declared that there was a 
 prohibition in Holy Writ, against the use of 
 any other language in addresses made to the 
 Deity. This was in the year 1070. But 
 though the Bohemians yielded so far to an 
 authority which they knew not how to contro- 
 vert, their firmness, in reference to the celibacy 
 of the clergy, was not so easily overcome. The 
 legate who brought to Prague a bull to this 
 effect in 1197, was set upon by the populace, 
 and stoned to death. 
 
 Republican and imperial Rome were not more 
 persevering in their encroachments on the civil 
 rights and liberties of the barbarians, than was 
 religious Rome in her endeavour to establish 
 an universal dominion over the consciences of 
 
 "I 
 
 ill 
 
 ii: 
 
 I I 
 
!U 
 
 304 
 
 OPPOSITION TO 
 
 rilE ROMISH CHURCH. 
 
 305 
 
 mankind. One step gained in advance, proved, 
 in every case, but the prelude to another ; and 
 the establishment of a Latin ritual and an un- 
 married clergy, was soon followed by the refusal 
 of the cup in the administration of the Lord's 
 Supper to the laity. In 1350, the cup was 
 withdrawn. Then rose John Milicius, a canon 
 of Prague, and Conrad Stiekna, his friend, to 
 protest by speech and writing, against the 
 measures pursued by the Pope, and to denounce 
 him as Antichrist in the hearing of a multitude, 
 who listened to their teaching very eagerly. 
 By-and-by, that is, in 1 370, Matthias Janovius, 
 the confessor of Charles IV., came to their 
 support in the battle ; and in several treatises, 
 which displayed great skill as well as vigour, 
 the Pope was by him denounced. But Charles, 
 though far in advance of his age, was not suffi- 
 ciently enlightened to adopt the opinions of his 
 confessor. He refused to call a general coun- 
 cil on the plea, that the right of so doing was 
 vested in the Pope ; and the Pope finally pre- 
 vailed upon him to send Matthias into banish- 
 ment. From the period of Matthias' death, 
 which happened in 1394, the Reformers, now a 
 
 .i*- 
 
 % 
 
 numerous and influential body, began to suffer 
 persecution; and the strong arm of power 
 endeavoured, for a while, to accomplish what 
 fair and open controversy had failed to bring 
 about. 
 
 Such was the condition of affairs, when a 
 Avealthy and pious citizen of Prague, a German, 
 however, by descent, laid the foundations of a 
 church in the Alt Stadt, which he called the 
 Temple of Bethlehem; to it, now the Tyne 
 Church, John Huss, already celebrated for his 
 oratory and extensive learning, was appointed 
 preacher. He saw the corruption of the age, 
 and was not slow in denouncing it. For a 
 while his rebukes were applied exclusively to 
 the laity, who complained to the king of the 
 preacher's insolence ; and the archbishop was, 
 in consequence, requested either to silence or at 
 least to restrain his violence. But the archbi- 
 shop, as well as the clergy at large, were as yet 
 Huss's admirers ; and the king was informed, 
 that as John, in rebuking vice without regard 
 to persons, did not go beyond the spirit of his 
 ordination vow, so there was no power in man 
 to restrain him. By-and-by, however, Huss 
 
 f 
 I 
 
 ( 
 
 
 f 
 
306 
 
 OPPOSmON TO 
 
 adventured into a new field, and the vices of 
 the priesthood were dragged to light. This 
 was neither so convenient nor so agreeable: 
 and the archbishop became, in his turn, the 
 complainant ; but the king would pay no heed 
 to the prelate's remonstrances, further than to 
 meet them with the same reply which the 
 pastors now complaining had, on a former 
 occasion, directed to himself: "Huss is but 
 acting up to the spirit of his ordination vow. 
 He is clearly worked upon by inspiration from 
 heaven, — he must, on no account, be molested." 
 Thus were the minds of the people kept on 
 the stretch, and the way was paved for still 
 greater operations, which soon began to deve- 
 lop themselves. 
 
 About this time arrived from England Jerome 
 of Prague, bringing with him copies of the 
 writings of Wickliff, which he was not back- 
 ward in getting translated into the vernacular 
 language, and circulated far and near. By- 
 and-by came two Englishmen, bachelors of 
 divinity, from Oxford, who disputing boldly 
 against the Pope's supremacy, drew great 
 crowds after them. Though silenced by public 
 
 THE ROMISH CHURCH. 
 
 307 
 
 authority, they did not, therefore, cease to wage 
 a war of extermination against antichrist. 
 They were tolerable limners, so they composed 
 a painting, which, like the shield in the story, 
 had a two-fold character ; for, on one side, it 
 represented Christ and his Apostles, as these 
 are described in the Gospels; and, on the 
 other, the Pope and his Cardinals, as they ap- 
 pear in their pride of place. This they sus- 
 pended to the outer wall of their lodging ; and 
 if there were none to listen to the words of 
 their preaching, there were thousands who came 
 to admire the production of their skill. More- 
 over, Huss, who perfectly understood the object 
 of their attempt, and entirely coincided with it, 
 made frequent reference to their work of art in 
 his discourses. In a word, the seed was sown ; 
 and but a little while elapsed ere the plant 
 sprang up and bore fruit. 
 
 The constitution of the University of Prague 
 so far resembled that of our Scottish universi- 
 sities, that in it were recognised those differ- 
 ences of nations, with which the students of 
 Glasofow and Aberdeen are familiar; there 
 being, however, this difference in the arrange- 
 
308 
 
 FACTIONS OF THE UNIVERSITY. 
 
 inents of the two seminaries : that, whereas the 
 nations in Glasgow^ find their boundaries on the 
 Forth and the Clyde, two native rivers, those 
 of Prague took a much more extended range. 
 There were, first, the Bohemians, under which 
 head were comprised all natives of Bohemia, 
 of Moravia, of Hungary, and Slavonia. There 
 were, second, the Bavarians, including Bavarians 
 Proper, Austrians, Franconians, and Suabians. 
 There were, third, the Saxons : that is, Saxons, 
 Danes, and Swedes. And, last of all, the 
 Poles, or Poles, Russians, and Lithuanians. If 
 students came from other lands, they were not 
 rejected ; but under one or other of these heads 
 they must needs be ranged. With an excess 
 of liberality which sometimes overshoots its 
 mark, Cliarles had given to ^. these several 
 nations an equality of influence in the manage- 
 ment of the affairs of the university ; and the 
 consequence was, that, as far as the decisions of 
 that learned body might control it, public opi- 
 nion in Bohemia, was guided not by native 
 scholars, but by foreigners. In the religious 
 controversy which now agitated the minds of 
 men it was impossible that the university should 
 
 i 
 
 JOHN HUSS. 
 
 309 
 
 stand neuter. The nations met, — Bohemia de- 
 clared for the Wickliftites, Bavaria, Saxony, 
 and Poland against them; and numbers, of 
 course, prevailed. But the triumph of Popery 
 was short-lived, even in the university. Huss 
 exerted himself with such vigour, that the 
 foreigners were deprived of their preponderancy, 
 and the Carolinum, under his guidance, became 
 henceforth the great bulwark of the Reformed 
 opinions. 
 
 While ardently combating the errors to 
 which she gave countenance, it does not appear 
 that, either now or afterwards, Huss enter- 
 tained a wish — far less a desire — to break off 
 from the communion of the holy Catholic 
 Church. Both he and his fellows-labourers were 
 quite as much in earnest as any of those by 
 whom the work of the Reformation came, in 
 after-years, to be perfected. Yet were they in- 
 fluenced throughout by principles more settled 
 than belonged to some, and by a genuine and 
 righteous liberality of which others knew no- 
 thing. That, however, which their gentleness 
 would have willingly averted, the violence of 
 their enemies brought about. The Church of 
 
 n 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
310 
 
 THE CALIXTINES 
 
 Rome could not, or would not, depend upon 
 argument. She opposed to the reasoning of 
 the Hussites the rack and the cord ; and Bo- 
 hemia became, in consequence, the scene of 
 persecutions, — of which to read the record is 
 at once painful and humiliating. The martyr- 
 doms of Huss and Jerome were followed by an 
 universal attack upon those who called them 
 masters ; and the priest with the layman, the 
 wife with her husband, the child with its parent, 
 sealed their faith with their blood. 
 
 From the first dawn of the Reformation in 
 Bohemia, there were among the Reformers two 
 parties, which came, in course of time, to be 
 respectively known as the Calixtines and the 
 Taborites. The demands of the Calixtines were 
 exceeding moderate ; they sought only that the 
 cup should be dispensed to the laity in the com- 
 munion ; that the clergy should be deprived of 
 secular authority; that the Word of God 
 should be freely taught ; and that sins publicly 
 committed, should, in public, be reproved. 
 This fourth claim, be it observed, struck at the 
 root of all that influence which the Romish 
 clergy derived from the j^ractice of secret and 
 
 .«} 
 
 AND TABORITES. 
 
 311 
 
 auricular confession ; while the third aimed at 
 a remodelling of the liturgical services, by the 
 substitution of the vernacular for the Latin 
 language in prayer. Yet were they considered 
 by the Taborites as coming far short of what 
 the exigencies of the case required. These 
 latter, indeed, the Covenanters and Puritans of 
 their day, saw nothing in the Romish church 
 except one mass of corruption. Her rites, her 
 ceremonies, her polity, her constitution, all 
 were odious in their eyes ; and to hold friendly 
 communication with her, on any subject what- 
 ever, was, according to their view of religion, 
 to bring the accursed thing into their houses. 
 Accordingly, while the Calixtines endeavoured 
 to soothe and conciliate, the Taborites rushed 
 to arms; and under Ziska, their renowned 
 leader, achieved triumphs such as attend only 
 on the exertions of men whose actuating prin- 
 ciple is a strong religious fanaticism. 
 
 The career of Ziska, his ferocity and his zeal, 
 are well known. John Chevalier von Trocznow 
 and Machowitz (for such was his real name), 
 enjoyed both rank and fortune in Bohemia ; he 
 was nobly born, held large possessions, and had 
 
 ; 
 
 . M 
 
 
 ih 
 
 
 m 
 
312 
 
 ZISKA. 
 
 greatly distinguished himself in war long be- 
 fore he adopted the opinions of the Taborites. 
 He Avas called Ziska, or the one-eyed, because 
 in his great battle with the Teutonic knights in 
 1410, a wound deprived him partially of sight, 
 and he became, during the religious contests that 
 followed the martyrdom of Huss, totally blind. 
 Yet blind as he was, and led out to war, like 
 King John at the battle of Cressy, between 
 two horsemen, he continued not only to fight, 
 but to arrange plans of campaign, and to direct 
 the movements of armies with equal judgment 
 and effect ; and he died as he had lived, in un- 
 mitigated hostility towards the pope, the Em- 
 peror Sigismond, and all their adherents. The 
 deo-ree of reverence in which his memory con- 
 tinues to be held, testifies to the sort of influ- 
 ence which he must have excited while living. 
 Tliere is no end to the tales which tlie Bohe- 
 mians love to tell of his bodily strength and 
 prowess. His favourite weapon — a sort of 
 club, or spiked mace, — is shown with extreme 
 pride ; and the tree under which he is said to 
 have slept on the night previous to his battle 
 with the emperor, continues, to this hour, to 
 
 i 
 
 JOHN OF ROKYSAN. 
 
 313 
 
 command that species of reverence which bor- 
 ders at least upon superstition. In a word, 
 Ziska appears greatly to have resembled, in 
 more than one particular, that Balfour of Bur- 
 ley whom Sir Walter Scott has described, and 
 his fame is still cherished as a national posses- 
 sion, probably because the principles for which 
 he contended have not, like those of which Bal- 
 four was the champion, obtained even a modi- 
 fied toleration. 
 
 What the arms neither of Ziska nor of Pro- 
 copius could win, the moderation and talent of 
 John of Rokysan succeeded in procuring. After 
 a long and fierce war, during which excessive 
 barbarities were practised on both sides, the 
 Council of Basle met in 1433. John of Ro- 
 kysan, one of the most popular among the 
 Hussite divines, attended there to plead the 
 cause of his party, and for a space of nearly 
 two months, the four points of which I have 
 spoken as claimed by the Calixtines, were de- 
 bated. But for the present, no results ensued. 
 The papists would yield nothing, and John and 
 his brother delegates returned home. But the 
 
 VOL. II. p 
 
 t 
 
 f 
 
 I m 
 i f 
 
 I 
 
 1 f'l 
 
 ^ I- 
 
 ' V; 
 
 1 11 
 
S14 
 
 PROJECTED UNION 
 
 popish party, taught wisdom by experience, ab- 
 stained from a renewed appeal to the sword till 
 they had thrown the apple of discord among 
 their adversaries, and weakened by dividing 
 them. In this, however, they succeeded only 
 in part ; so that ultimately, that is, in 1436, the 
 use of the cup was conceded ; and visions of 
 religious peace were, for a while, fondly encou- 
 raged in Bohemia. 
 
 It was during the interval between this 
 happy consummation and the accession of Fer- 
 dinand I. to the throne, that certain events 
 took place which seem to me to demand a 
 moment's notice. John of Rokysan, though a 
 zealous reformer in principle, was yet unwilling 
 to break the bond of ecclesiastical union, or, as 
 his enemies assert, was desirous of gratifying two 
 passions at the same time, by uniting the cha- 
 racter of a reformer to that of an archbishop in 
 a well-endowed church. The better to conci- 
 liate both the pope and the emperor, he had 
 dealt harshly with the Taborites, who, rejecting 
 the terms offered them, had withstood and 
 sustained a defeat from the Calixtines. He 
 
 WITH THE GREEK CHURCH. 
 
 315 
 
 found, however, that after the council had 
 decided in his favour, his election to the See 
 of Prague was made by the pope contin- 
 gent on his renunciation of the privileges just 
 granted to Bohemia. He felt greatly and 
 naturally indignant at the proposal ; and under 
 the influence of this feeling, determined to 
 withdraw the church of Bohemia from all de- 
 pendance on that of Rome. That the church of 
 a single nation could stand alone, however, no 
 communion being held with other churches, 
 seemed then as far beyond the range of possibi- 
 lity, as that a branch torn from the parent tree 
 would flourish; and John, whose principle in 
 this respect was deeply-rooted, cast his eyes in 
 the direction of Constantinople. I am not aware 
 that of this fact, the notice has been taken by 
 ecclesiastical historians which it deserves; yet 
 is it certain, that for two whole years, the re- 
 formers of Bohemia were in communication 
 with the patriarch, and that there came to 
 Prague delegates with full powers to admit 
 Bohemia into the bosom of the Greek church- 
 /They were never called upon to exercise these 
 
 P 2 
 
 I 
 
 1 
 
 ■^i 
 
 III 
 
 I. 
 
316 
 
 FINAL SEPARATION 
 
 powers. Their ceremonies,— more offensively 
 superstitious than those of Rome herself,— gave 
 extreme umbrage to the Hussites, and the 
 matter which they had been commissioned to 
 effect, fell to the ground. 
 
 It was at this juncture that the final separa- 
 tion between the Taborites and the Calixtines 
 took place. The form^er renounced all con- 
 nexion with Rome, and for awhile laid aside 
 their very priesthood. The latter continued, 
 in name, the children of that church, whose 
 favourite, because most oppressive, edicts they 
 disobeyed. Not that popery was without its 
 adherents in Bohemia all this while ; on the 
 contrary, these were very numerous, and they 
 included a large proportion of the hierarchy, as 
 well as many of the nobles. But the uni- 
 versity, as it had early adopted Huss's opinions, 
 so it continued steadily, yet mildly, to maintain 
 them. Throughout the wars that marked the 
 commencement of this strife of opinion, the 
 Carolinum was ever present to assuage the ran- 
 cour of parties. It withstood absolute popery 
 on the one hand, and absolute fanaticism on 
 
 OF THE CALIXTINES AND TABORITES. 317 
 
 the other. And when the war ceased, and 
 George of Podiebrad mounted the throne, it 
 gave all its influence to a government of which 
 the policy throughout was just, and wise, and 
 temperate. 
 
 Acted upon by the efforts of this seat of 
 learning, the Taborites themselves became gra- 
 dually tame. They accused John of Rokysan, 
 it is true, of having betrayed them, because 
 he would not place himself at the head of 
 the schism ; and they held aloof from familiar 
 intercourse with their rivals; but they made 
 no appeal to the sword. Accordingly John 
 became their advocate with the new monarch, 
 and ample toleration was extended to them. 
 With this they were satisfied. They withdrew 
 into the mountains, built villages and places of 
 worship, and never addressing each other ex- 
 cept as brother or sister, they came, by-and-by, 
 to be known every where as the Bohemian or 
 Moravian brethren. Simple in their habits, 
 and primitive in their ideas, they soon ceased 
 to be ol(jects of terror to the government ; and 
 being left to themselves, became, by degrees, 
 at once the most industrious and honest por- 
 
 rr 
 
 I! 
 
 , 
 
 •I 
 
ai8 
 
 THE TABORITE PRIESTHOOD. 
 
 tion of the population. Moreover, the anomaly 
 in the constitution of their church, which at 
 the outset, had been little thought of, began 
 by degrees to make itself felt- They had no 
 appointed teachers or ministers among them; 
 and there was confusion in their very worship. 
 Their chiefs determined to remove the evil; 
 and seventy of them, from Moravia as well as 
 Bohemia, meeting together, cast lots on whom 
 the priestly office should devolve. Three men, 
 Matthew, of Kunwald, Thomas of Przelan, and 
 Eli of Krzenovitch, were chosen ; who repair- 
 ing to a settlement of the Waldenses, — of 
 whom numbers were scattered over Austria 
 and Moravia, — received from the hands of Ste- 
 phen, one of their bishops, episcopal consecra- 
 tion. From them the brethren derived that 
 apostolical priesthood, which has never since 
 died out, and of which the most perfect model 
 is now to be seen at Hernhut, in Silesia. 
 
 Thus fared it with the Reformed religion and 
 its professors in Bohemia, till Ferdinand I. 
 ascended the throne. There was tranquillity, 
 at least, and toleration, under Ladislaus of 
 Poland, and an anxiety expressed everywhere, 
 
 FERDINAND I. 
 
 319 
 
 !• 
 
 that the language of controversy might cease ; 
 and that the cultivation of letters, which more 
 than a century of civil strife had interrupted, 
 might again occupy men's minds, and soften 
 and humanize their spirits. But Ferdinand had 
 no part in this virtuous longing. Whether it 
 was the influence of his brother, the Emperor 
 Charles V., or his own innate hatred of the 
 institutions of Bohemia, that swayed him, is a 
 question not easily answered, if, indeed, it were 
 worth asking, — but it is not. The promises 
 which he had given so liberally when elected, 
 were all disregarded so soon as he felt himself 
 secure; and Bohemia, which ought to have 
 thrown her weight into the scale of the Pro- 
 testant princes, was kept, at the period of the 
 league of Smalcalde, in a state of fatal neutra- 
 lity. She could not wield her power against 
 men to whom she was bound by all the ties of 
 sympathy and communion of principle ; for by 
 this time, the Lutheran doctrines were taught 
 in her churches, and openly maintained in her 
 university. Neither would the diet consent 
 that an army should be marched into Saxony. 
 It was a balance of antagonist principles which 
 
 i 
 
 'm 
 
320 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 proved fatal in its results to her own liberties, 
 both civil and religious. The battle of Miihl- 
 berg gave to Charles and Ferdinand a supe- 
 riority which they failed not to improve. The 
 Bloody Diet sat in Prague ; and nobles, and 
 knights, and even cities forfeited their privileges 
 and their property; and the two former, at 
 least, in many instances, their lives. 
 
 There remained now but one bulwark of the 
 Reformed faith in Bohemia, — the Caroline 
 University, and against it the efforts of the 
 dominant faction were directed. It was a sore 
 grievance to the court and the popish nobility, 
 that a w^eapon so powerful as education should 
 be exclusively in the hands of schismatics ; so 
 they resolved to counter-work it. With this 
 view, the aid of the Jesuits was called in ; and 
 twelve fathers of the order of Loyola took 
 possession, in 1555, of the Clementinum Col- 
 lege. At first their unpopularity was such, 
 that they never ventured to show themselves 
 in the streets without being insulted. Yet they 
 pursued their course with unwearied assiduity; 
 and patience, and a mild demeanour, and an 
 anxiety to conciliate even the taste for shows 
 
 OF PRAGUE. 
 
 321 
 
 which prevailed then, as well as now, among the 
 citizens, gradually produced their results. The 
 Jesuits were first tolerated, and by-and-by 
 respected in Prague. Moreover the college 
 was raised to the rank of a university, in which 
 theology and philosophy might be taught ; and 
 they received from day to day an accession to 
 their numbers. Still the fame of the Carolinum, 
 or Protestant seminary, surpassed that of the 
 modern university, as far as the Jesuits indi- 
 vidually surpassed the Protestant teachers in 
 urbanity of manner; and hence, though per- 
 sonally tolerated, the latter continued as a 
 party to be objects of extreme suspicion. 
 And so things remained, till the issue of the 
 Thirty Years' War threw all power into the 
 hands of the Catholics, and religious freedom, 
 and civil liberty, became words without mean- 
 ing in Bohemia. 
 
 I have spoken of the house of Austria as 
 indicating from the outset of its connexion 
 with Bohemia, a spirit of decided hostility to 
 the institutions of the country. From this 
 general censure, two, and for a brief space at 
 least, three princes of the line must, indeed, be 
 
 P 3 
 
 
322 
 
 GOLDEN AGE OF 
 
 excepted. Maximilian had no sooner mounted 
 the throne, in 1564, than he proclaimed the 
 most ample religious toleration. The Compacta 
 Basilicana, which had heretofore protected the 
 Utraquists alone, were set aside, and all sects 
 were permitted to worship God, according to 
 the dictates of their own consciences. The con- 
 sequence was, that a large portion of the people 
 became, with the university, avowedly Pro- 
 testant, and adopted, some the Augsburg Con- 
 fession as their standard of belief, — others, the 
 opinions of Calvin. In like manner, Rodolph 
 II., and after his deposition, Matthias, stood 
 forth as the champions of absolute freedom of 
 opinion. They looked to matters of more im- 
 portance than the squabbles of sophists ; they 
 laboured to advance the prosperity of their 
 people, and they succeeded. The interval be- 
 tween 1564 and 1610, may, indeed, be described 
 as the golden age of Bohemian history. Then 
 did the diet exercise a sound and constitutional 
 control over the supplies and general policy of 
 the government. Then was the condition of 
 the peasant improved, his proverbial industry 
 encouraged, and himself permitted to share 
 
 BOHEMIAN HISTORY. 
 
 323 
 
 largely in its fruits. There were, in fact, as 
 many elements of civil and religious liberty in 
 Bohemia then as in England; — ^how wide is 
 the contrast which the one nation offers to the 
 other now! 
 
 It would have been strange, indeed, had 
 princes who were wise enough to know, that 
 a monarch's greatness is best enhanced by the 
 prosperity of the people over whom he reigns, 
 failed to give ample encouragement, at the 
 same time, to learning and to the arts. Under 
 Rodolph the halls of the Hradschin were 
 adorned, with the productions of the best 
 masters, which he purchased in Italy, and 
 brought with him into Bohemia. His court, 
 likewise, became a centre of attraction, round 
 which Tycho Brahe, Kepler, and other foreigners 
 of high renown, were gathered; while the native 
 nobility, catching the impulse which their sove- 
 reign afforded, devoted themselves, in numerous 
 instances, to the cultivation of letters and of 
 science. There are several histories yet extant, 
 which came from the pens of Rodolph's cour- 
 tiers ; while the same class gave professors and 
 teachers, not only to the university, but to many 
 
 i ! 
 
 04 
 
 m 
 
 J 
 
sf 
 
 324 
 
 BOHEMIAN LITERATI. 
 
 INTRIGUES OF THE JESUITS. 
 
 325 
 
 of the most distinguished seminaries in Italy 
 and Germany. Moreover, schools were multi- 
 plied both in Prague and elsewhere with un- 
 wearying zeal ; till, in addition to the sixteen 
 which flourished in the capital, there were at 
 Laun, Salz, Klattau, Leitmeritz, and Chrudim, 
 seminaries, each of which was presided over by 
 a master, of whose fitness to communicate sound 
 and wholesome learning, the Carolinum itself 
 had approved. And it is worthy of remark, 
 that one great object of which these promoters 
 of mental culture never lost sight, was the 
 improvement and extension of their native 
 tongue. There was no country in Europe 
 which could boast of so many statesmen, histo- 
 rians, and professors, by whom the vernacular 
 language was habitually employed, as Bohemia. 
 The printing-ofiice of the Moravian brethren, 
 of which Charies of Zierotin was the founder, 
 multiplied copies of the Bible in the Bohe- 
 mian tongue. In the same dialect, Radowsky 
 of Husterzan put forth his treatise on astronomy. 
 John of Ildiejouna used it as well as Charies 
 of Zierotin, and Hajek, Dembrawricky, War- 
 towsky, and Blahoslaw, all demonstrated its 
 
 I 
 
 fitness for the purposes of the chronicler. In 
 a word, Bohemia was great, and flourishing, 
 and happy; and her prosperity rested on a basis 
 which, if wisely dealt with, must have rendered 
 it as enduring as it was conspicuous. 
 
 Every movement on the part of the people 
 had for its object, the establishment of a perfect 
 nationality in Bohemia; — the leaning of the 
 court was, perhaps naturally, towards Aus- 
 trianism. Maximilian, Rodolph II., and for a 
 time Matthias, gave, indeed, no countenance to 
 the latter ; but Matthias's constancy seems, in 
 the end, to have been overcome. The Jesuits 
 never ceased to keep in view the ultimate 
 ascendancy of their own order, and they quite 
 understood that to accomplish this, it would 
 be necessary to crush the spirit of indepen- 
 dence in Bohemia altogether. Both parties 
 took the alarm; each made its movement 
 to counteract the other, and the results were 
 such as I have described. The Emperor Mat- 
 thias, supported by the Catholic nobility and 
 the Jesuits of the Clementinum, insisted on 
 nominating his own successor, in the person of 
 Ferdinand II.; the States, to which adhered 
 
 I 
 
 !l 
 
 M 
 
 la 
 
;| 
 
 326 
 
 EXTINCTION OP 
 
 PROTESTANTISM IN BOHEMIA. 
 
 327 
 
 the Carolinum, and all that were Protestants in 
 Bohemia, protested against so gross a violation 
 of their rights. Then followed an insurrection, 
 the expulsion of the Jesuits from the kingdom, 
 and a demand that neither the university nor 
 any other seminary of education, should again 
 be subject to the control of that order. And 
 finally began that terrible struggle which crushed 
 the liberties, as well civil as religious, of the 
 Bohemians. For Ferdinand, not content to 
 scotch the snake, never rested till it had ceased 
 to be. The Carolinum, with all its endow- 
 ments, privileges, and libraries, was handed over 
 to its rival. Protestantism was declared to be 
 extinct; and the gibbet, and the stake, and 
 confiscations, and banishments, rendered the 
 decree, in due time, more than an idle boast. 
 There is, probably, no instance on record 
 of an extirpation of a religious creed more 
 absolute than that which the Jesuits effected of 
 Protestantism in Bohemia. It was entirely put 
 out, and has never since so far revived, as to 
 embrace one-hundredth part of the population 
 within the compass of its rays. 
 
 From the close of the war the University of 
 
 Prague assumed the title of the Carlo-Ferdi- 
 nandian Institution. In one of its branches, in- 
 deed, — the Carolinum, — the professors' chairs 
 stood vacant for twelve years, and the building 
 itself was shut up. But at the termination of 
 that period it was reopened, and it has conti- 
 nued ever since to be the seminary in which 
 instruction in the faculties of law and of me- 
 dicine is communicated. For theology, and 
 moral and abstract philosophy, on the other 
 hand, the student must needs repair to the 
 Clementinum ; over which, till the suppression 
 of the order by Joseph II., the Jesuits presided. 
 Nor has the downfall of that most ambitious 
 and subtle body, worked any important change 
 in the constitution of the university. The Ca- 
 rolinum is still the laymen's college ; the Cle- 
 mentinum the place of education for the divine, 
 — who seems to be returning, with rapid strides, 
 at least in Prague, to what he used to be while 
 yet Jesuitism was in full vigour. 
 
 Such is an outline of the great historical 
 events of which a visit to these two edifices is 
 sure to remind the traveller. Of the buildings 
 themselves, as well as of the system of education 
 
328 
 
 EDUCATION 
 
 that is pursued within their walls, I have very 
 little to say. The Carolinum, entirely remo- 
 delled by the Jesuits, retains no resemblance, 
 even in its external features, to what it was at 
 the period when Huss presided over its aflfairs. 
 It is a handsome pile, doubtless ; but all traces 
 of its Gothic architecture are swept away, and 
 in its very dimensions it is changed. The 
 Clementinum, on the contrary, has grown, both 
 in importance and bulk; for it occupies the 
 site of two churches, of a Dominican convent, 
 and of several streets and squares, which were 
 pulled down in order to make room for it. 
 Of its noble halls the interior decoration is 
 altogether Italian ; and its library, its museum, 
 its cabinets, and scientific collections, are, at 
 least, worth seeing. 
 
 Education in Bohemia, as well as in the 
 other provinces of the Austrian empire, goes on 
 under the strict and unceasing surveillance of 
 the police. The clergy, in spite of what tra- 
 vellers assert to the contrary, have no control 
 over it at all ; except so far as they may pos- 
 sess influence enough with the government to 
 recommend such text-books as are adopted in 
 
 IN BOHEMIA. 
 
 329 
 
 the various seminaries. It was whispered, in- 
 deed, in Prague, that since the accession of the 
 present emperor, the clergy have, in this re- 
 spect, made large strides upwards; and it 
 is very certain that Jesuitism is not what it 
 was some years ago, — a profession which men 
 esteemed it prudent to conceal. But however 
 this may be, as the nomination to vacant chairs 
 in the university is vested in the Board of 
 Education at Vienna, so by the head of the 
 police it is determined by what process eminent 
 philosophers, and divines, and lawyers, shall be 
 fabricated. In like manner the period of at- 
 tendance on each class, — or, to speak more 
 accurately, the space of time which is necessary 
 to complete an academical course, — is not left 
 either to the discretion of the professors, or to 
 the talent and industry of their pupils. ' In 
 the first place, the youth, to be admitted, 
 must show that he has attended one of the 
 public schools for three years, at the least. 
 He must bring with him also a slender stock 
 of German, arithmetic, mathematics, Greek, and 
 Latin ; which for six years more he labours only 
 to increase. Then conies a fresh distribution 
 
 
 if 
 
 if 
 f 
 
 '5 ' 
 
 M 
 
Illi 
 
 330 
 
 DISCONTENT 
 
 of the students, who, throughout these pro- 
 tracted periods, have gone on together; but, 
 who now pass off into the schools of law, and 
 medicine, and divinity, according to the nature 
 of the professions for which they are respec- 
 tively intended. The candidates for the cope 
 and the judge's chair complete the course in 
 four years more. From the incipient Escula- 
 pius six years professional study is demanded. 
 It is worthy of remark, that not a single lecture 
 is delivered in the vernacular language of the 
 country. German is, indeed, employed, where 
 Latin may have grown into disrepute ; but the 
 Bohemian is a dialect of which the use seems 
 restricted to the very lowest and most despised 
 
 of the peasantry. 
 
 It would be idle to conceal that the extreme 
 vigilance of the government in these respects, 
 and, still more, its bigoted hostility to every- 
 thing which might recall the recollection of 
 Bohemian independence, has given great um- 
 brage to the thinking portion of the people. I 
 have conversed with persons in every rank, and 
 I found none who spoke of it except in bitter- 
 ness. But it is not by these means alone that 
 
 OF ALL CLASSES. 
 
 331 
 
 the house of Austria endeavours to shield its 
 Bohemian subjects from the infection of libe- 
 ralized opinions. I had intrusted to me, before 
 leaving London, an English book, which I was 
 to forward or deliver to a gentleman of rank in 
 the country. He would not send for it by the 
 hands of a common messenger. He came in 
 person many miles to receive it, "Because," 
 said he, " one does not know what may hap- 
 pen, and it is best to avoid collision with the 
 police." The book was a very harmless one, — 
 it was only the first volume of Lockhart's Life 
 of Sir Walter Scott; but my friend did not 
 consider that it would be prudent to make a 
 parade of its reception. Again, I visited a 
 gentleman in Prague, and found upon his table 
 a number of the Fo^-eign Quarterly Review. 
 There was an article in it which bore upon the 
 existing condition of Bohemia, — an able paper, 
 on the whole, though here and there inaccu- 
 rate. I conversed with him about it; and, 
 having an hour to spare, I accepted his offer to 
 carry it to my hotel, and there read it. "When 
 you send it back," said he, "be so good as 
 wrap it carefully up in paper. We don't know 
 
 I 
 
332 EXCLUSION OF FOREIGN BOOKS. 
 
 where we are safe, in this country ; and your 
 Foreign Quarterly is not one of the favoured 
 publications which we are licensed to import." 
 What a pitiable state of existence is this, — 
 what a perfect bondage of mind, for which the 
 utmost security to person and property can 
 never make amends. 
 
 333 
 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 9 
 
 THE JEWS* TOWN. — VISITS TO VARIOUS POINTS WORTH 
 NOTICING. STATE OP PUBLIC FEELING. 
 
 I HAVE devoted so much more of space than I 
 had int-ended to the university, and the asso- 
 ciations connected with it, that I must be con- 
 tent to describe in few words, such other 
 objects as appeared to me most deserving of 
 notice in Prague. Prominent among these is 
 the Juden Stadt, or City of the Jews ; of which 
 I may state, at the outset, that, of all the ex- 
 traordinary scenes in which I have ever been 
 an actor, there are few which, more than my 
 visit to the Jews' Quarter of Prague, have left 
 upon my mind so vivid and lasting an impres- 
 sion. Let the reader imagine to himself, if he 
 can, the effect of a sudden transition from the 
 pomp and splendour of a great capital into a 
 suburb of mean and narrow streets, choked up 
 
 f 
 
 ,.f! 
 
 I I 
 
334 
 
 THE JUDEN STADT 
 
 AT PRAGUE. 
 
 335 
 
 with the litter of old rags, broken furniture, 
 and cast-ofF clothes hung out for sale ; where 
 are aged women asleep in their chairs,— young 
 ones nursing infants, or, it may be, perfecting 
 their own unfinished toilets ; men, squalid and 
 filthy, with long beards, flowing robes, and all 
 the other appurtenances which usually belong 
 to their race ; children in a state of nudity ; 
 turbaned heads, features thoroughly Oriental ; 
 tarnished finery, books, music, and musical 
 instruments, scattered about; everything, in 
 short, whether animate or inanimate, as entirely 
 in contrast with what you have just left behind, 
 as you might expect to find it, were you 
 transported suddenly into some region of the 
 earth, of the very existence of which you 
 had previously been ignorant. I have passed 
 through the classic regions of St. Giles, the 
 Seven Dials, and Rag Fair. I have gone, in my 
 youth, under the escort of a police oflicer, the 
 round of all the most degraded corners of Lon- 
 don ; yet have I never beheld a sight, which, in 
 all that is calculated to bemlder, if not to 
 outrage, the senses, could bear one moment's 
 
 comparison with what the Juden Stadt brought 
 before me. I confess that the first feeling ex- 
 cited was a vague idea, that to proceed further 
 might compromise our personal safety. Yet I 
 defy any one who has penetrated but a few 
 yards down the passage, to abstain from going 
 on. There is about you, on all sides, an air of 
 novelty, such as it is impossible to resist ; and 
 you march forward, wondering, as you move, 
 whether you be awake or in a dream. 
 
 The establishment of a Jewish colony in 
 Prague is said to be coeval with the foundation 
 of the city itself. From age to age, moreover, 
 the sons of Israel have inhabited the same 
 quarter, — namely, a suburb which, running in 
 part along the margin of the Moldau, is ap- 
 proached from the Alt Stadt, by the street of 
 which I have just spoken. Here dwell they, to 
 the number of eight or ten thousand, in a state 
 of complete isolation from the Cliristian my- 
 riads which surround them, inhabiting flats, and 
 in many cases, single apartments, by whole fami- 
 lies ; and appearing to rejoice in the filth and 
 neglect to which the Christians have consigned 
 them. The streets in their suburb are all nar- 
 
 
336 
 
 THE OLD SYNAGOGUE. 
 
 THE OLD SYNAGOGUE. 
 
 337 
 
 1 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 row and mean, and devoid of ornament ; the 
 stalls, with the articles which the chapmen ex- 
 pose upon them, are scattered up and down in 
 utter confusion; the shops— mere recesses- 
 have Hebrew inscriptions over them, and the 
 entire population, when I went among them, 
 seemed to be abroad. One building, and one 
 onlv, does indeed deserve to be visited : I allude 
 to the synagogue, the oldest of its class, per- 
 haps, in Europe ; a strange edifice, above the 
 floor of which the soil has gathered to such a 
 height, that to enter it, you are forced to de- 
 scend a flight of steps. I must endeavour to 
 describe it, though conscious that description 
 must utterly fail to convey a correct idea of the 
 
 original. 
 
 The Old Synagogue, as it is called, a struc- 
 ture of the twelfth century, is essentially Gothic 
 in the leading points of its architecture, but so 
 loaded with Byzantine ornaments as to re- 
 semble no other edifice of a similar date which 
 I, at least, have seen in Europe. It is tho- 
 roughly Oriental in its character, fantastic in its 
 proportions, and little likely to be mistaken, 
 under any circumstances, for a Christian 
 
 ^ 
 
 church. The interior is not less remarkable, 
 whether we look to the productions of the 
 builder's skill, or to the arrangements which 
 have been made for the purposes of worship 
 and study. A lofty vault, supported upon 
 three Gothic pillars, which spring from the 
 middle of the area, and meet in pointed arches 
 at the roof, it is lighted only by a range of 
 ^lancet-shaped windows, which being elevated 
 above the floor to the height of forty or fifty 
 i^^i^ throw down a few broken rays upon your 
 head, just suflilcient to render the darkness 
 visible, but not to dispel it. By this uncertain 
 glimmer, you perceive, after a while, that walls, 
 and pillars, and roof, are black with the dust of 
 ages ; and that every thing around you bears 
 testimony to the gloomy nature of the reve- 
 rence which these stubborn Israelites pay to 
 the God who has discarded them. Beneath 
 the arch of the pillars there is a raised plat- 
 form, where desks and stools are placed 'for the 
 accommodation of the rabbins, and the pupils 
 Mho come hither to study the Law. At the 
 extremity of the vault stands the altar, the 
 silver candlestick, with its many branches, sur- 
 
 VOL. II. Q 
 
 
338 
 
 THE OLD SYNAGOGUK. 
 
 mounting it, while from the roof hang seven 
 silver lamps, to « give light," according to the 
 Divine injunction, " over against the candle- 
 stick." I exceedingly regretted to find that the 
 day on which I inspected this pile was not a 
 holy season in the Juden Stadt. Some doctors 
 and students there were, on the platform, ■ 
 whose attention seemed engrossed by the occu- 
 pation in which they were engaged ; and their 
 picturesque dresses, flowing hoards, and stub- 
 born and haughty expressions of countenance, 
 accorded well with the localities by which they 
 were surrounded. But the business of prayer 
 was not in progress, and the sacred Book of the 
 
 Law lay hidden. 
 
 From the Synagogue we passed into the old 
 cemetery, which lies contiguous to it, and 
 looked round upon a picture of desolation more 
 stern than the dream of the poet has perhaps 
 ever conjured up. Extensive as the plot of 
 ground is, there is not, throughout its compass, 
 one foot of level soil. Graves, trodden par- 
 tially down, pointed grave-stones that are slop- 
 ing and falling in every direction,— these, with 
 a wilderness of alder trees, which, whether 
 
 THE OLD SYNAGOGUE, 
 
 339 
 
 planted by the hand of man, or sown by the 
 winds of heaven, overshadow the crumbling 
 tombs, constitute altogether a fitting monu- 
 ment to the desolate condition and broken 
 fortunes of the Hebrew race. Yet may you 
 easily enough distinguish, from the devices that 
 are engraved on each of them, the rank and 
 condition of many of those vrho sleep beneath 
 these grave-stones. The lion of Judah, the 
 upraised hands of the house of Aaron, the 
 Nazarite's bunch of grapes, are all here ; while 
 the graves of the rabbins are, as elsewhere, 
 adorned, each with a sort of cenotaph. The 
 Jews have, for some time, ceased to bury in 
 this mass of human dust. It was filled, and 
 filled, till it could contain the bones of no 
 more ; and now their dead are carried to a new 
 cemetery, removed a short distance beyond the 
 city walls. 
 
 According to their own traditions, the 
 quarter of Prague wliich the Jews now occupy 
 was possessed by their ancestors long before 
 the destruction of Jerusalem. We may credit 
 this statement or not, just as we please ; but it 
 seems admitted, on all hands, that if they. 
 
 Q 2 
 
340 PRESENT CONDITION OF THE JEWS. 
 
 dwelt not where we now find them, previous to 
 the foundation of the city, they were among 
 the earliest of the colonists who repaired to it 
 Many and severe changes of fortune they have 
 indeed undergone. Plundered, oppressed, more 
 than once expelled by violence, they have yet 
 returned, again and again, to the home of 
 their adoption, and they are now treated, if not 
 respectfully, at least mildly, and on the whole, 
 justly, by their Christian rulers. I must add, 
 moreover, to this account of their suburb, that 
 the more wealthy members of their community 
 do not now make their dwellings there. These 
 generally inhabit houses in the better part of 
 the city, and having the command of a large 
 proportion of the floating capital of the coun- 
 try, they receive such marks of deference as 
 the rich, under the most unfavourable circum- 
 stances, contrive to exact from the poor. 
 
 Among other objects in the Alt Stadt, which 
 make powerful demands on the traveller's no- 
 tice, the Rath-haus, or ancient Town-hall, and 
 the Thein Kirche, stand conspicuously forward. 
 The former is a quaint, irregular Gothic pile, in 
 a very dilapidated state, of which the Council- 
 
 1 
 
 THE GROSSE RING. 
 
 341 
 
 chamber is fine, in its degree, and the little 
 chapel curious. It was here, that in 1420, the 
 leaders of the Taborites assembled, their fol- 
 lowers being gathered together in the Grosse 
 Ring, or square beneath, and at the tolling of a 
 bell, the whole sallied forth to commit those 
 excesses which, both in Bohemia and elsewhere, 
 have cast such discredit on the dawn of the 
 Reformation. It was in a dungeon beneath the 
 Rath-haus that the Emperor Wenzel IV. suf- 
 fered, in the year 1403, a fifteen weeks' impri- 
 sonment ; and it was in the square, on which 
 the windows of the hall look out, that the 
 jousts and tournaments of the knightly age 
 were carried forward. Of the latter again, 
 which fronts the Rath-haus, and so occupies a 
 conspicuous position in the same square, why 
 should I say more than has been said already? 
 Here, in 1458, the states assembled to elect to 
 the vacant throne the virtuous George of Po- 
 diebrad; here Huss preached, and John of 
 Rokysan taught ; and Tycho Brahe found here 
 the last resting-place which is allotted to mor- 
 tality. There is a rude monument to him, — a 
 figure in armour, carved in relief, against one of 
 
 It 
 
 m 
 
 . J. .-^^MtAjtiSiHi^-: 
 
342 
 
 THE NEU STADT. 
 
 THE MILITARY HOSPITAL. 
 
 343 
 
 the pillars near the altar ; and over it is en' 
 graved the astronomer's motto, Esse qiiam 
 haberi. It is remarkable enough that as in 
 this church the communion was first adminis- 
 tered in both elements to the people, so is 
 there still to be found here the single memorial 
 that remains of the privileges which were 
 once so dearly prized, and so hardly won. The 
 service of the Roman Catholic church is per- 
 formed here in the Bohemian language ; and 
 the congregations which attend to take part in 
 it are enormous. 
 
 From the Alt Stadt you pass to the Neu 
 Stadt by a street called Graben, across the site 
 of which was, in ancient days, a ditch, but of 
 which, as well as of the rampart that surmounted 
 it, not a trace now remains. It is a clean, airy, 
 w^ell-built portion of Prague, and embraces the 
 old town within a sort of semicircle, of which the 
 extremities reach, on either side, to the Moldau. 
 Here the Military Hospital, — once a college of 
 the Jesuits, — will naturally attract attention, 
 both on account of the elegance of its struc- 
 ture, and the uses to which it is turned. It 
 has a noble fa9ade, which measures upwards of 
 
 six hundred feet in length, a chapel, a hall, and 
 accommodation for four hundred invalids, whose 
 wants, though attended to, are certainly not 
 prevented with the care which distinguishes a 
 similar institution among ourselves. The old 
 soldiers made, it is true, no complaints. They 
 seemed, on the contrary, perfectly satisfied with 
 their condition,— all, at least, except one,— who, 
 strange to say, had served in the 97th British 
 regiment for seventeen years, ere he entered 
 the service of Austria ; and even he said very 
 little. He was a German, had been discharged 
 in consequence of a wound, after fighting in 
 Egypt and the Peninsula, had then entered the 
 Austrian army, and was now enjoying his otium 
 in Prague. I learned from him that the rate 
 of allowance to each man, was a suit of clothes 
 once in four years, one pair of shoes and one 
 pair of soles per annum, a quarter of a pound 
 of meat with twice as much black bread daily, 
 and no wine. Had he gone upon what we 
 should call the out-pension, his subsistence 
 would have amounted to three-pence, — -of our 
 money, — per day. 
 
 There are several churches and convents in 
 
 i 
 
 hi 
 
 if 
 
344 
 
 CHURCH OF ST. EMAUS. 
 
 / 
 
 MONASTERY OF ST. LA^yRENCE. 
 
 345 
 
 the same quarter of Prague ; but none which 
 much repay the trouble of inspecting them. 
 That of St. Emaus is, perhaps, the most inte^ 
 resting, both because it is the oldest, being of 
 the date 1348, and because here some traces of 
 frescoes, which escaped the Hussite violences, 
 may be found. But except for these, and a few 
 
 of the trophies that w^ere taken at the battle of 
 the White Mountain, it will not strike the 
 visitor as, in any respect, remarkable. It is not 
 here, indeed, nor in the Alt Stadt neither, that 
 the curious in such matters will seek for grati- 
 fication. He who loves to muse amid the 
 cloisters of a monastery, or delights to recreate 
 himself amid the " Temple's holy gloom," will 
 find the freest scope for the indulgence of his 
 humours, on the opposite side of the Moldau; 
 and as our tastes reverted to that channel, after 
 sufficient time had been devoted to other mat- 
 ters, it may not be amiss if I state some of the 
 occurences that befell during our second visit to 
 the Hradschin and the Strahow. 
 
 Not far from the cathedral, and, as a necessary 
 consequence, adjoining to the palace, are two 
 objects which put in strong claims to notice. 
 
 One is a Loreto chapel, built on the model df 
 that which has so often changed its resting-? 
 place ; the other is the cotivent of St. Lawrence, 
 within which the chapel is erected. The latter, 
 — an exact copy of that in the valley of the 
 Misio, — is small, and dark in the interior, the 
 shrine being lighted up only by the lamps which 
 burn continually before the image of the Virgin. 
 It is, however, rich in costly vestments and plate, 
 and richer still in the reverence which the pious 
 pay to it. The convent, again, is large, with fine 
 cloisters, and some tolerable frescoes along the 
 sides of them, and the monks, to do them 
 justice, are exceedingly civil. My young com- 
 panion expressed a wish to visit their cells, and 
 it M'as instantly complied with: we were di- 
 rected to pass round to another door, and there 
 the porter took charge of us. 
 
 Our guide, — a squalid creature, with shaven 
 crown, bare legs, sandaled feet, and a grizzly 
 l3eard, — led us by a long passage first into the 
 refectory. It was a hall of no great dimen- 
 sions, meanly furnished with deal benches and 
 tables, and surrounded on the walls, with some 
 rude representations of the most loathsome 
 
 Q 3 
 
346 
 
 CELLS OF THE MONKS. 
 
 and horrid martyrdoms. The tables were spread 
 with wooden trenchers, each of which had a 
 moi-sel of rye-bread beside it, and beneath each 
 bench were rows of spit-boxes, — one being set 
 apart for the use of each of the brothers. What 
 the Yiands might be which were to fill the tren- 
 chers, I do not know ; but the smell was not in- 
 viting, so we quitted the hall, and following our 
 guide up stairs, were introduced into a cell. 
 Its appearance entirely overthrew the theories 
 which my young companion had nourished. A 
 small, but neatly-furnished apartment, with a 
 clean bed, a chest of drawers, and a quantity of 
 flowers on the window-sill, by no means came 
 up to the ideas which he had entertained of 
 monastic asceticism ; and when, over and above 
 all this, he found more than a breviary and a 
 crucifix within reach, namely, a sort of pocket* 
 library and a lute, his astonishment found vent 
 
 in words. 
 
 " Are monks allowed to indulge their taste 
 
 for music?" asked he. 
 
 " Oh yes," was the reply; " Brother Franz is 
 a great musician. It is he that always leads in 
 the chanted grace before and after meals." 
 
 THE CHAPEL. 
 
 347 
 
 Brother Franz, however, was not present to 
 answer for himself; so we continued our pro- 
 gress. 
 
 We desired to see the chapel; and as we 
 approached it by a back stair, the notes of the 
 organ that swelled along the passage, gave 
 indication that some service was going on. 
 We entered a gallery, whence, from behind the 
 shelter of a screen, we could look down upon 
 the cliapel, and those that filled it. The con- 
 gregation was both numerous and devout, and 
 in the body of the pile, all were engaged in 
 singing a requiem for a departed soul. On a 
 bier in the middle aisle, stood a coffin, having a 
 skull and cross-bones laid upon the pall, and 
 over it hung a priest, whose gestures sufl[iciently 
 indicated, that for the tenant of that narrow 
 chamber he was supplicating. "This is some 
 recent death?" demanded I ; " some person of 
 note is gone to his account, and you are praying 
 that his sins may be pardoned?" 
 
 " No, sir," answered the monk, " the indi- 
 vidual whose demise we this day commemorate, 
 gave up the ghost an hundred years ago ; but 
 we are still bound to say masses for her soul. 
 
348 
 
 SUNDAY AT PRAGUE. 
 
 SUNDAY AT PRAGUE. 
 
 849 
 
 She has bequeathed property to secure this for 
 
 ever." 
 
 " And is her body in that coffin?" demanded L 
 
 "Not at all," was the answer; "these are 
 but representations of what you take them for. 
 That is not a coffin, neither are these a scull 
 and cross-bones." 
 
 I could not help smiling, when this avowal 
 was made with such perfect simplicity; and I 
 went away surprised, that any such awkward 
 endeavour to work upon the sympathies of the 
 people, should be considered judicious. 
 
 Among other days of the week, we spent a 
 Sunday in Prague; and a regard to truth 
 compels me to state that the contrast which 
 was presented by the mode of observing the 
 Lord's Day there, to what we had witnessed 
 in Protestant Saxony and Protestant Prussia, 
 redounded very little to the honour of the 
 latter countries. I need not observe that 
 nowhere, on the continent of Europe, are 
 the evenings of the Lord's Day devoted to 
 other purposes than those of amusement. 
 Whatever may be the national faith, whether 
 Romish or Reformed, this is universally the 
 
 case ; but while in Saxony and Prussia the 
 laws appear to sanction the total desecration of 
 that day, even to the prosecution of men's ordi- 
 nary employments, in Prague, and I am bound 
 to add generally in popish Bohemia, no such 
 desecration takes place. After a given hour, 
 all classes put on their merriest bearing, it is 
 true, and the clergy,— in Prague, a curious com- 
 bination of stiffness and dandyism,— may be met 
 every where ; but till that time arrives, the 
 offices of religion appear to engross all thoughts, 
 for the shops are closed, and the streets de- 
 serted, except by persons passing to and from 
 their several places of worship. How much 
 more decent, to use no stronger expression, is 
 this, than the sort of scenes which I had occa- 
 sion to describe in a previous chapter, — ^how 
 much better calculated to keep alive among the 
 people some sense of religion, some respect at 
 least for its external observances, — not entirely, 
 it is to be hoped, unconnected with a regard 
 for higher things than externals. 
 
 Why should I continue these details any 
 further? We visited the theatre, with the 
 music and acting in which we were greatly de- 
 
 
348 
 
 SUNDAY AT PRAGUE. 
 
 SUNDAY AT PRAGUE. 
 
 349 
 
 She has bequeathed property to secure this for 
 
 ever." 
 
 " And is her body in that coffin?" demanded L 
 
 "Not at all," was the answer; "these are 
 but representations of what you take them for. 
 That is not a coffin, neither are these a scull 
 and cross-bones." 
 
 I could not help smiling, when this avowal 
 was made with such perfect simplicity; and I 
 went away surprised, that any such awkward 
 endeavour to work upon the sympathies of the 
 people, should be considered judicious. 
 
 Among other days of the week, we spent a 
 Sunday in Prague; and a regard to truth 
 compels me to state that the contrast which 
 was presented by the mode of observing the 
 Lord's Day there, to what we had witnessed 
 in Protestant Saxony and Protestant Prussia, 
 redounded very little to the honour of the 
 latter countries. I need not observe that 
 nowhere, on the continent of Europe, are 
 the evenings of the Lord's Day devoted to 
 other purposes than those of amusement. 
 Whatever may be the national faith, whether 
 Romish or Reformed, this is universally the 
 
 case ; but while in Saxony and Prussia the 
 laws appear to sanction the total desecration of 
 that day, even to the prosecution of men's ordi- 
 nary employments, in Prague, and I am bound 
 to add generally in popish Bohemia, no such 
 desecration takes place. After a given hour, 
 all classes put on their merriest bearing, it is 
 true, and the clergy,— in Prague, a curious com- 
 bination of stiffness and dandyism,— may be met 
 every where ; but till that time arrives, the 
 offices of religion appear to engross all thoughts, 
 for the shops are closed, and the streets de- 
 serted, except by persons passing to and from 
 their several places of worship. How much 
 more decent, to use no stronger expression, is 
 this, than the sort of scenes which I had occa- 
 sion to describe in a previous chapter, — ^how 
 much better calculated to keep alive among the 
 people some sense of religion, some respect at 
 least for its external observances, — not entirely, 
 it is to be hoped, unconnected with a regard 
 for higher things than externals. 
 
 Why should I continue these details any 
 further? We visited the theatre, with the 
 music and acting in which we were greatly do- 
 
350 
 
 STATE OF 
 
 PUBLIC FEELING. 
 
 351 
 
 lighted ; we dined on one of the islands in the 
 Moldau, in the open air, in the midst of a 
 crowd, beneath the canopy of heaven, and with 
 a well-managed band to serenade us all the 
 while ; we spent an evening greatly to our own 
 satisfaction, under the shade of the trees in the 
 Thiergarten. We climbed the Strahow, in- 
 spected the monastery that crowns its summit, 
 admired the fine library, and gazed Avith reve- 
 rence on the autograph of Tycho Brahe ; we 
 wandered round the ramparts; we surveyed 
 the field of the battle of Prague ; we examined 
 more minutely the ground on which Ziska had 
 fought and conquered ; we left nothing unex- 
 plored, in short, which we found that it was 
 possible to bring within the scope of geneml 
 observation; nor permitted any matter, con- 
 cerning which curiosity had been excited, to 
 pass without investigation. The result was a 
 tolerably accurate acquaintance with every re- 
 markable object in the place, not excepting 
 Count Nositz's small but excellent gallery, — 
 one of the most creditable collections of mo- 
 dern growth which I have seen. Neither did 
 we fail to form acquaintance with the people, 
 
 as well of the humbler as of the more exalted 
 stations ; of which the result, in every instance, 
 was, that the favourable impression which had 
 been made upon me, while wandering among 
 the mountains, suffered no diminution. I 
 found them to be, — in the city, not less than 
 among the villages, — a kind-hearted, industri- 
 ous, and most patient race. I saw, indeed, 
 that they were not without their grounds of 
 discontent, and that they felt their grievances 
 keenly. The higher orders complained because 
 the ancient capital of their native land had 
 sunk into a mere provincial town. They pointed 
 to palaces deserted and falling to decay, and 
 said, with natural bitterness, that it ill became 
 Bohemians of the best blood to prefer the plea- 
 sures of Vienna to the duty which they owed to 
 their father-land. They spoke, too, indignantly 
 of the centralizing system, of the ban that had 
 gone forth against their beloved language, of 
 the extinction of their privileges, and the efforts 
 that are making, to blot out the very remem- 
 brance of their nationality. " But it will not 
 succeed," was the usual termination of such 
 harangues. " We have no idea of shaking off 
 
 - 
 
 :fi 
 
352 
 
 STATE OF PUBLIC FEELING. 
 
 the yoke. We know that in the present state 
 of Europe, Bohemia could not exist one yean 
 as an independent monarchy; but we shall 
 never be content till the laws are everywhere 
 administered in a language which is intelligible 
 to the people, and we and they be permitted to 
 exercise some control over our own affairs." 
 In like manner, the humbler classes, — the shop- 
 keeper, the mechanic, and the artisan,— spoke 
 not unintelligibly of their altered condition, 
 since the native nobility were their best cus- 
 tomers, and taxation scarcely reached them. 
 « But we are no longer a people now. The 
 stranger rules us, the shackles are on our 
 wrists ;— what can we do?" Then would follow 
 a shrug of the shoulders, a wink of the eye, 
 and a hasty return to the sort of manner winch 
 a careless observer might easily mistake for the 
 external proof of content, but which is, in fact, 
 a disguise put on to hide feelings directly the 
 reverse. 
 
 353 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 •• •• 
 
 QUIT PRAGUE.— JOURNEY TO BRUNN BY KONIGGRATZ.— 
 STATE OF THE COUNTRY. BRUNN. ITS PUBLIC BUILD- 
 INGS. ABSENCE OF THE MORAVIAN BRETHREN. 
 
 "Time runs his ceaseless course," and, agree- 
 ably as with us he had passed since our arrival 
 in Prague, we began, after a week's sojourn 
 there, to discover that it would be necessary to 
 move onwards. It had been our anxious wish 
 to proceed at once along the borders of Silesia 
 into Hungary ; and at Dresden we had endea- 
 voured to have some such route marked out 
 upon our passport, but we were not successful. 
 For there is extreme jealousy on the part of 
 the Austrian officials abroad, of granting free 
 ingress and egress to and from Hungary ; and 
 w^e were recommended, in consequence, to 
 proceed direct to Vienna, where the Hungarian 
 Chancery would deal with us. We made another 
 effort at Prague to obtain that which in Dres- 
 den had been refused us; but it availed us 
 
 
 ■ I.. j.r.. ,.■..<.„. IW..L.J.I1I.. i"j 
 
354 JEALOUSY OF THE AUSTRIAN POLICE. 
 
 nothing. " We will pass you on to Koniggratz, 
 if you please," said the chief of police, " where 
 the authorities, being nearer to the frontier, 
 may be more in the habit of setting general 
 regulations at defiance; or you may go to 
 Briinn, the capital of Moravia, and there fare 
 better." We fancied that there might be 
 something in these suggestions, and resolved 
 to act upon them. Accordingly, having taken 
 a last survey of the lordly city, and provided 
 ourselves with arms,— a precaution which was 
 everywhere pressed upon us, seeing that Hun- 
 gary was our point of destination, — we com- 
 mitted ourselves to an extra-post, an agreeable 
 and commodious vehicle, which holds two per- 
 sons, and set out. 
 
 I have nothing whatever to say concerning 
 our progress from Prague to the first of the 
 resting places which were marked upon our 
 chart. Not having any object to gain by delay, 
 we performed the larger portion of the journey 
 by night ; and, at an early hour in the morning, 
 found ourselves approaching the outer defences 
 of a strongly fortified town. This was Konig- 
 gratz,— a huge barrack, in which two or three 
 
 KONIGGRATZ. 
 
 355 
 
 battalions of infantry are usually quartered; 
 and which contains, besides a state prison, a 
 Gymnasium, or seminary of public instruction, 
 and some churches. There was not much of 
 promise in all this, neither did the spectacle of 
 chained men working by gangs in the streets, 
 greatly win upon us. We therefore aban- 
 doned, without hesitation, all idea of the pro- 
 posed halt; and having ascertained that the 
 police were immovable; that our passport 
 being marked for Vienna and not for Hungary, 
 they either would not, or could not, sanction a 
 deviation from the beaten track,— we were fain 
 to accept a vise for Briinn, and to resume 
 our former places in the interior of the dili- 
 gence. Again, therefore, were we en voyage, 
 at a rate more rapid than is at all agreeable to 
 him who wishes to make acquaintance with a 
 strange people. But for this there was no 
 help; and we took the evil patiently, being 
 comforted by the reflection, that, of the Bohe- 
 mians we had already seen a great deal more 
 than ever can be seen, except by such as adopt 
 our unpretending system of tmvel. 
 
 From Koniggratz to Briinn, you pass through 
 
 4: 
 
356 
 
 STATE OF 
 
 a country for which nature has done a great 
 deal, and which the patient industry of its in- 
 dustrious inhabitants has not failed to improve. 
 It is, generally speaking, a vast plain, with 
 mountains in the distance ; and, here and there, 
 a rise and fall on its surface, which produce an 
 exceedingly pleasing effect. There are many 
 villages and small towns along the road-side ; 
 and everywhere the fields were, when I saw 
 them, in the highest state of cultivation. Corn 
 and meadow, with an occasional vineyard, spread 
 themselves out before us, and were reKeved, 
 from time to time, by the introduction of a 
 wood, disposed, as might almost seem, with a 
 view to heighten the extreme beauty of the 
 landscape. Had I abstained from holding con- 
 verse with the inhabitants of that fair province, 
 I should have quitted it in the full assurance 
 that they were the most contented and happy 
 people in the world. As it was, a regard to 
 truth compels me to acknowledge that I found 
 them very much the reverse. 
 
 It is not, I think, necessary for me to guard 
 myself against the imputation of cherishing any 
 undue preference for the democratic principle 
 
 BOHEMIA. 
 
 357 
 
 I ' 
 
 in the theory of government. Of all the ty- 
 rannies that exist, the tyranny of the mob is 
 the most oppressive; nay, the very excess of 
 freedom which gives to each individual the 
 right of pestering all around him with his im- 
 pertinences, is surely much more hard to endure 
 than the occasional restraints which a strong po- 
 lice may impose. But an absolute and irrespon- 
 sible monarchy is not a pleasant government to 
 live under. Where men talk only in whis- 
 pers ; where they feel that their words must be 
 weighed ere they utter them ; where their sin- 
 gle idea of the powers that be, is of an influence 
 which oppresses, or keeps an eye of unsleeping 
 vigilance upon their movements; where they 
 are not permitted to form any judgment as to 
 what is, or what is not, best for their social 
 condition, — but imbibe, from childhood, one 
 conviction only, that it is their wisdom to 
 obey implicitly, — in such a state of society it 
 is vain to look either for true dignity of indi- 
 vidual character, or for the developement of 
 powers which elevate both nations and private 
 men in the scale of human perfectibility. 
 Practically speaking, men may enjoy as much 
 
 i' i i 
 
358 
 
 STATE OF 
 
 BOHEMIA. 
 
 359 
 
 freedom of action cas they could desire ; and 
 their persons and their property will alike be 
 secured from violence; but there is not, nor 
 can there be, real contentment anywhere,— no, 
 not even in the highest stations of all,— those 
 of the sovereign and his ministers. 
 
 I have been much struck in the course of 
 my reading, with the pains which travellers 
 take to assure us that the government of Aus- 
 tria is exceedingly paternal; and that the 
 people who live under it harbour no wish that 
 it should be curtailed in its prerogatives. 
 When this is said both of the rulers and the 
 ruled, as these show themselves in Austria Pro- 
 per, I am not sure that there is much to be 
 found fault with. The Austrians have always 
 been treated by the house of Hapsburg as 
 children are treated by their father ; and being 
 a light-hearted and most unthinking people, 
 they are happy in the preference which is 
 shown to them. But it is certainly not so in 
 other portions of the empire. Of the Italian 
 provinces I need say nothing. Of Hungary I 
 shall not speak now, because other and better 
 opportunities of doing so will arise ; but with 
 
 respect to the Bohemians, the impression left 
 upon my mind is, that the iron has entered 
 deeply into their souls. I have alluded else- 
 where to the substance of conversations which 
 I have held with nobles, and priests, and 
 peasants. I have to record now what passed 
 between myself and a fellow-traveller in the 
 diligence, — a medical man, of strong good 
 natural sense, and an education sufficiently 
 enlarged. He was not slow in discovering 
 that I was a foreigner ; and on his demanding 
 whence I came, I told him. 
 
 '* Ah," said he, " you are the native of a free 
 country. Everything which you witness here 
 must surprise and shock you." 
 
 "Quite the reverse," was my answer. "I 
 am charmed with the simple manners and ap- 
 parently comfortable state of your population. 
 I am delighted with the kindness and hospi- 
 tality which I have received from your gentry; 
 and, above all, I am glad to perceive that you 
 all enjoy as much of practical liberty as the 
 heart of man need desire." 
 
 "Where is this practical liberty?" replied 
 he ; " is it in the liability of the unprivileged 
 
 
360 
 
 STATE OF 
 
 BOHEMIA. 
 
 361 
 
 classes to military service ?-our total exclusion 
 from the management of our own affairs?— our 
 rigid subjection to the surveillance of the po- 
 lice ?_the restraint we are compelled to impose 
 on our very speech?— the absence of all tri- 
 bunals to which, when oppressed by the govern- 
 ment, we can appeal ?" 
 
 He was running on with a still longer list of 
 grievances, when I stopped him. " No," said 
 I, «it is not in these particulars that your 
 practical freedom displays itself,-but in mat- 
 ters much more important, because of daily and 
 hourly recurrence. You go out and come in 
 when you will. You make choice of your own 
 M'alk in life, and pursue it uninterruptedly. 
 You are safe from injury to person and pro- 
 perty. You have privileges, each of you, which 
 no fellow-subject is pemitted to invade. Are 
 not these very great blessings, and are you not 
 
 content ? 
 
 "Privileges!" replied he, "where are they? 
 Undoubtedly, I am permitted to practise me- 
 dioine, under certain restrictions, exactly as the 
 bouerman may till his ground, and the artisan 
 fabricate bis wares. But my privileges are 
 
 those only which nature has given, and human 
 laws cannot take away. I may eat when I am 
 hungry, if I can find food ; and drink when I 
 am thirsty. But what am I, regarded as a 
 citizen ? — a hewer of wood, and drawer of water ; 
 a mere drudge. Let my talents and ambition 
 be M^hat they may, I can work out no opening 
 for them. There are no privileges in the em- 
 pire, except those enjoyed by the nobles ; and 
 even the nobles have, in point of fact, no rights 
 which they can call their own." 
 
 " What do you mean ?" replied I ; "if by 
 honest industry you acquire a fortune, you may 
 purchase land, and take a settled station in 
 society. The army is open to you, and the 
 church ; — what would you have ?" 
 
 " I would have what you possess in England," 
 answered he; "room to breathe freely; and a 
 fair field in which to struggle even for the 
 honours of life. The army is open to us, 
 doubtless; but in the army, unless I be of 
 noble descent, I cannot hope to rise above the 
 rank of a captain, at the highest. The church 
 is good for those who are willing to submit to 
 its restraints, and play the hypocrite. I may 
 
 VOL. II. R 
 
\ 
 
 362 
 
 STATE OF 
 
 BOHEMIA. 
 
 363 
 
 purchase land, too, doubtless, as you say; but 
 its possession will not confer upon me any, even 
 of the ideal advantages, which are claimed and 
 conceded to the penniless aristocrat. With us 
 the line of nobility is so distinct and broad, that 
 no human being can, unless the accident of 
 birth have placed him on the sunny side of 
 the hedge, overstep it. But this is not all. 
 The nobles not only engross all places of trust, 
 and profit, and honour, but they do not bear 
 their just proportion in the burdens of the 
 state. They pay hardly any taxes ; whereas 
 ^e of the cannaille are very heavily laden 
 
 with them." , 
 
 I saw from the tone of my fellow-travellers 
 discourse that he was exceedingly discontented, 
 and I ventured to ask whether the sentiments 
 to which he gave utterance, were generally 
 entertained in Bohemia ? 
 
 «By all orders and degrees of men," was his 
 answer. "Even the nobles are dissatisfied, 
 because the king holds his court at Vienna; 
 and for the rest of us, you may depend upon it 
 that we feel our degradation acutely." 
 
 «If it be as you represent," said I, "how 
 
 comes it that there never occurs anything 
 like an attempt to wrest by force from the 
 government what it will not concede to 
 reason ?" 
 
 We were passing through a small town, or 
 rather village, at the moment, and my compa- 
 nion bid me look out. I did so, and saw two 
 or three groups of cuirassiers lounging about 
 the street. 
 
 " These are the emperor's sureties for our 
 good behaviour," observed he, with a smile; 
 " twelve or fourteen thousand men at Prague, 
 — three or four thousand at Koniggratz, — a 
 regiment at Tabor, — and squadrons scattered, 
 as you see, through all the villages. Our poor 
 peasants would hardly think of uttering a com- 
 plaint in such a presence ; and our nobles don't 
 care to argue points with men who wear the 
 sword." 
 
 I could only shrug up my shoulders, for I 
 saw that he was, at least, so far in the right, 
 that trooj)S swarmed everywhere ; and, without 
 encouraging him to brood over his own misfor- 
 tunes, whether real or imaginary, I was content 
 to thank heaven that I had myself been born 
 
 R 2 
 
 in 
 
 i 
 
m t 
 
 364 
 
 BRUNN. 
 
 in a land where such grounds of complaint are 
 
 unknown. 
 
 We stopped to dine at Leutomischl, a small, 
 but prettily-situated town, with a schloss, or 
 chateau, of which the style of architecture is 
 exceedingly striking. It occupies the brow of 
 a rising ground, just over the principal street; 
 and with its profusion of minarets, remmded 
 us rather of some Oriental palace, than of the 
 residence of a Bohemian noble. But we had 
 no time to examine it in detail; for even a 
 German extra post has its appointed season of 
 niovement ; and our conducteur, though abun- 
 dantly civil, could not postpone it. Neither 
 did there occur any other incident of which it 
 is worth while to take notice, till, at six on 
 the following morning, Brunn, the capital of 
 Moravia, received us within its walls. 
 
 There is not much in this city, independently 
 of the historical associations which are con- 
 nected with it, that is likely to detain the tra- 
 veller many days, or to draw from him, after he 
 has quitted it, a lengthened description of what 
 he may have seen. It is built along the ascent 
 of a steep hill, of which the summit is crowned 
 
 SPIELBERG. 
 
 365 
 
 by the cathedral, a pile distinguished, like the 
 more antique of the Slavonian churches in 
 general, by the great altitude of its nave. It 
 is surrounded by a belt of suburbs, at once 
 more regular in their construction, and much 
 more populous than the town itself. To the 
 north lies the hill of Spielberg, surmounted by 
 a modern and unfinished redoubt, which having 
 taken the place of the ancient citadel, is, and 
 for many years back has been, used chiefly as a 
 state prison. It was here that, during the reign 
 of the Emperor Francis I., the unfortunate 
 Silvio Pellico spent his long and dismal season 
 of captivity. Here, too, Trenck, the famous 
 leader of the Pandours, in the war of succession, 
 suffered imprisonment. Here Mack, long sus- 
 j^ected of treachery, underwent a severer punish- 
 ment than his incapacity deserved ; and here 
 still linger captives from various provinces, 
 whose offence, for the most part, is, that they 
 pine to be free. This system of shutting men 
 up in prison, without trial, or the pretence of 
 trial, is very shocking. But T was glad to learn 
 from the few w^ho ventured to speak in a whis- 
 per, that the tenants of the dungeons of Spiel- 
 
 w 
 
 ! i 
 
866 
 
 BRUNN. 
 
 berg are less numerous now tban they used to 
 be, and the time is not, in all probability, distant, 
 when the practice of filling them at the caprice 
 of a minister will be discontinued altogether, 
 i: Briinn is the seat of some of the most ex- 
 tensive as well as valuable manufactories that 
 anywhere exist in the Austrian dominions. 
 The growth of these, it appears, was much fos- 
 tered by the late emperor, and his memory is, 
 in consequence, held in high veneration by the 
 inhabitants. It is to this circumstance, indeed, 
 more than to the military virtues which he dis- 
 played, that the erection of the obelisk on the 
 Franzes Berg is owing ; for though the inscrip- 
 tion seem commemorative of the triumphs of 
 the army in the later campaigns, the people 
 tell you that Francis is held in lionour solely 
 because of the countenance wliich he gave to 
 the works of peace. The articles produced 
 here are thread, clotlis, linen, and glass ; and 
 there is a manufactory of porcelain at a village 
 about a mile distant. 
 
 It was market-day when we reached the 
 
 town, and as the windows of our apartment 
 
 . commanded an excellent view of one of the 
 
 MARKET-DAY. 
 
 367 
 
 chief streets, the scene which they opened out 
 to us proved at once novel and interesting. 
 Crowds of country people were congregated 
 beneath, in all manner of grotesque costumes ; 
 while stalls of every description — some sup- 
 porting clothes, some laden with fruit, some set 
 out with china, or glass, or articles of cutlery, 
 or shoes, — choked up the thoroughfare, to the 
 manifest inconvenience of the few vehicles 
 which made occasional efforts to pass. The 
 ^Iresses of the women, too, whose business 
 it seemed to be to superintend the sale of the 
 fruit, were strikingly national. They wore, 
 each of them, a sort of jacket-fashioned bod- 
 dice, made tight to the shape, a petticoat of 
 yellow serge, which reached barely to the mid- 
 calf, bright scarlet stockings, shoes that came 
 up to the ankles, a handkerchief, which, pass- 
 ing over the head, was tied beneath the chin, 
 •white buckles, and hips enormously padded. 
 Yet were they, upon the whole, a handsome 
 race, with clear brunette complexions, and dark 
 hazel eyes ; and their good nature, as, one after 
 another, they made inroads into our apartment, 
 and pressed upon us their cherries, was some- 
 
 ■rMiiiiSiiiitti> 
 
368 
 
 BRUNN. 
 
 FRANZES BERG. 
 
 369 
 
 tiling quite unusual. They perfectly succeeded 
 in their object ; for we ate many more black- 
 hearts than did either of us any good, and 
 bought a still greater quantity than we dreamed 
 of consuming, simply because we were unable 
 to resist entreaties that were pressed upon us 
 so good huixiouredly. 
 
 Having amused ourselves thus for a while, 
 and laid in a tolerable breakfast, we sallied 
 forth, under the guidance of a valet-du-place, 
 to perambulate the town. We found it sur- 
 rounded by fortifications; yet exceedingly 
 clean and neat, and its public gardens, beyond 
 the Prague gate, at once extensive and well- 
 arranged. Tliere is a cemetery in the middle 
 of the new town, which is likewise worth visit- 
 ing, were it only because of its enormous 
 dimensions. And the barrack, with its seven 
 capacious courts, is of prodigious extent. Of 
 the churches, on the contrary, with the excep- 
 tion of the cathedral, much cannot be said in 
 praise ; and even the cathedral is more curious 
 than beautiful. It presents an excellent speci- 
 men of the kind of ecclesiastical architecture 
 in wliich the Slavonians of the middle ages 
 
 delighted. Moreover the Landhaus, or house 
 of meeting for the estates of Moravia, — till the 
 times of Joseph II. a wealthy Augustinian 
 convent, — may be visited with advantage, as 
 may also the Rathhaus and National Museum. 
 Into the citadel, on the other hand, no stranger 
 can be admitted without an order from the 
 governor; and such order, unless the party 
 applying for it bring strong recommendations, 
 is not easily procured. 
 
 The great lounge for the fashionables of Briinn 
 is termed the Fi*anzes Berg. It is a sort of 
 table-land, on the side of that hill which the 
 cathedral and bishop's palace overtop ; and is 
 laid out in shady walks, well-ordered terraces^^ 
 and bowers of most umbrageous shelter. 
 Thither, in the cool of the day, that is, between 
 the hours of six and nine in the evening, the 
 elite of the inhabitants repair, that they may en- 
 joy the pleasures of a crowded promenade, en- 
 livened by the strains of one of the finest mili- 
 tary bands to which I have ever listened. As^ 
 may be supposed, we did not fail to become par- 
 takers in the scene, or to relish it greatly ; for 
 the music is superb, the view over the valley of 
 
 R 3 
 
'I 
 
 370 
 
 PROTESTANTISM 
 
 IN BOHEMIA. 
 
 371 
 
 the Taia beautiful, and the bearing of the 
 company at once decorous and full of good 
 humour. But having accomplished this, and 
 wandered through the greater number of the 
 streets, having visited the pubhc buildings, 
 and made more than half the circuit of the 
 ramparts, we felt that our business in Briinn 
 was completed. We accordingly returned to 
 Qur hotel, and being again refused by the 
 police the coveted vise into Hungary, we 
 made up our minds to pursue our journey on 
 the morrow towards Vienna. 
 
 I made numerous inquiries as to the condi- 
 tion of Protestantism in this country, and re- 
 <jeived answers which were very little satisfac- 
 tory. From the effects of the persecution at 
 the close of the Thirty Years' War, it has 
 never recovered. Toleration is, indeed, granted 
 to Lutherans, Calvinists, and Jews, under one 
 or other of which denominations, all dissenters 
 from popery are classed ; but of the Moravian 
 brethren, not a trace remains, either in the 
 capital or elsewhere. Had I not previously 
 made myself acquainted with the history of 
 this pious sect^ the circumstanc e of their total 
 
 extirpation would have much surprised me; 
 because the error of the name which has some- 
 how been applied to them, reaches also to our 
 conception of their origin and fortunes. But 
 the truth is, that they were never a numerous 
 body in the land after which they are now 
 called. It was but in the natural course of 
 events that branches should have struck out' 
 from Mount Tabor in Bohemia, as well into 
 Moravia as into the border districts of Upper 
 Austria, and these, when the parent tree was 
 east down, soon withered away. I believe that 
 it is only at Hernhut, in Saxony, and in a few 
 places of Poland and Gallicia, that any rem- 
 nants of them now exist. At all events, I 
 could discover none at Briinn, nor could any of 
 those whom I interrogated on the subject, 
 direct me where to look for them. 
 
372 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 COUNTRY BETWEEN BRUNN AND VIENNA. - VIENNA. — 
 JOURNEY TO PRESBURG.— PRESBURG.— THE HUNGA- 
 RIAN CONSTITUTION. 
 
 There is not mucli to praise, there is very 
 little to describe, in the general aspect of the 
 country between Briinn and Vienna. Here 
 and there it is exceedingly barren and sterile, 
 here and there just as much the reverse ; that is, 
 if fields which produce the vine and the maize 
 in large quantities, deserve to be accounted fer- 
 tile. It is true that if you be a soldier, you 
 will examine, with interest, the ground over 
 which the hostile armies manoeuvred both pre- 
 vious to the battle of Austerlitz and after- 
 wards. If geology be your hobby, in the low 
 but picturesque hills, the far-off roots of nobler 
 mountains, which, in many places, hang over 
 the road, and give to it an exceedingly romantic 
 character, you will find something for the eye 
 to rest upon. Various dilapidated castles, too, 
 that crown these rocks, may possibly arrest the 
 
 JOURNEY TO VIENNA. 
 
 373 
 
 attention of the antiquary ; wliilst the political 
 economist will find food for reflection in the 
 outward bearing of social life as here it pre- 
 sents itself. For there are no towns of any 
 size or note in all this journey of more than a 
 hundred miles. The villages, moreover, are 
 universally mean, and their inhabitants worthy 
 of the homes which receive them when the 
 day's task is done. On the other hand, some 
 magnificent schlosses present themselves by 
 tlie way-side, as if in contrast to the squalid 
 hamlets on which they look down; and soldiers 
 swarm everywhere. But as I do not know 
 what could be said of such matters more than 
 will be found in any road-book which has the 
 slightest pretensions to accuracy, I am very 
 little tempted to advert to them at all. 
 Neither can I speak of the aspect of things as 
 it is operated upon by the proximity of Vienna, 
 because night had closed round us long before 
 we became conscious of the heaving of the 
 living vortex. And for the rest, to be delayed 
 at the barrier till our passports had been exa- 
 mined, our baggage searched, and a survey of our 
 persons and features taken, these were trifling 
 
I 
 
 374 
 
 VIENNA. 
 
 « 
 
 VIENNA. 
 
 375 
 
 o-rievances to which use had reconciled us, and 
 of which we thought nothing. We drove at 
 once to the Schwan, an excellent though ex- 
 pensive house in the Meal Markt, and there, 
 for a brief period, established our head- 
 quarters. 
 
 - What shall I say of Vienna? Nothing, or 
 next to nothing. I lingered within its walls a 
 week, and no more. I ranged its streets, visited 
 its galleries, lounged through its palaces, its 
 public gardens, and its temples. I stood among 
 the coffins in the vault of the chapel of the 
 Capuchins, where rest the ashes of the Imperial 
 family; I gazed long and fondly, in that of the 
 Augustines, on Canova's exquisite monument to 
 Maria Christina of Saxony. I observed, not 
 without a feeling of pardonable pride, that the 
 Armoury, which is arranged with great taste and 
 skill, contains trophies from almost every Euro- 
 pean nation, England alone excepted. I saw 
 the chain with which the Turks, in 1529, endea- 
 voured to obstruct the navigation of the Danube. 
 I beheld the innumerable curiosities which are 
 contained in the Arsenal, and lived among the 
 knights and heroes of the middle ages, while 
 
 gazing on the splendid suits of armour which 
 the Ambras Museum contains. There is no 
 public place which I did not visit, from the 
 Volksgarten to the Prater; — no conspicuous 
 building, beneath the roof of which I failed to 
 enter, from the cathedral to the Invaliden Haus; 
 - — no palace which I did not inspect, from that 
 of the Schweitzer Hof to Schonbrunn. Yet 
 I will not describe any of them. Why? Be- 
 cause the task has been executed so recently, 
 and so well, that nothing could proceed from 
 me save idle repetition; and I do not think 
 that to indulge in such would either redound 
 to my own credit, or add to the edification of 
 my readers. 
 
 Of the state of society in this great capital, 
 again, I am not competent to form an opinion. 
 I saw but the exterior of things, — the busy- 
 marts, the crowded streets, the shops more 
 capacious and better stocked than any, except 
 those of London, and perhaps of Paris. The 
 music of the bands that played in the public 
 gardens was femiliar to me, as well as the 
 countenances and bearing of the joyous throng 
 that listened to them. But of the habits of 
 
376 
 
 VIENNA. 
 
 the individuals who composed these throngs, as 
 they showed themselves within the domestic 
 circle, I can say nothing. I was told, indeed, 
 that the ties of moral obligation are not very 
 rigidly regarded in Vienna; that, with much 
 polish, and all the charms of high-breeding 
 about it, society is, in fact, exceedingly corrupt. 
 This may or may not be true ; but to me the 
 single aspect which the Austrian capital wore, 
 was of a vast assemblage of people, whose great 
 business it seemed to be to render life agree- 
 able, and its events, in whatever order they 
 might occur, as free from annoyance as possible. 
 I am equally incompetent to pass sentence 
 on the state of learning, and the fine arts, in 
 Vienna. I found, indeed, that it was fashion- 
 able to pay court to men of acknowledged 
 i:alent and genius, and that to music and dancing 
 the Viennese are just as much addicted as any 
 other members of the Germanic family. But 
 except from an evening spent at the theatre, I 
 had no opportunity of determining how far they 
 were or were not gifted with a taste more pure 
 than prevails elsewhere. Neither can I tell how 
 the important matters of eating and drinking are 
 
 VIENNA. 
 
 377 
 
 conducted, except in hotels and restaurateurs ; 
 for the season was unfavourable to making 
 Viennese acquaintances ; and had the contrary 
 been the case, the time at my disposal was 
 insufficient. But of cuisine at the Schwan, at 
 the Daums and Kaiserin von Oesterreich, I can 
 give a very favourable report, as well as of the 
 cleanliness and even elegance of their re- 
 spective eating halls, and the civility of their 
 waiters. What, then, shall I say of Vienna ? 
 This, and no more. That to me it presented 
 greater attractions than any other continental 
 capital that I have visited ; that I would have 
 Avillingly spent as many weeks within its walls 
 as I spent days, and that though eager to pass 
 on to a country, to examine into the condition 
 of M'hich, constituted one and the principal 
 object of my journey, I did not make up my 
 mind to quit the city without reluctance. I 
 dare say there is enough in and around it, to 
 call forth the regrets of the right-thinking; 
 but these were matters into which I could not 
 pause to inquire. As I have already said, the 
 exterior of things was all that presented itself 
 to me, and with that I was delighted. 
 
 1 
 
 / 
 
\, 
 
 378 
 
 DIFFICULTY OF OBTAINING 
 
 There is a custom in Vienna of demanding 
 yoiir passport when you first make your appear- 
 ance at the barrier, and requiring you to show 
 yourself, within four-and-twenty hours after- 
 wards, at the police-office. The object of these 
 arrangements is, that you may satisfy the 
 authorities of your solvency, and receive from 
 them a letter of security for such length of 
 time as you propose, or they be willing that 
 you should remain in the city. We attended 
 to the established regulation, of course, and 
 now, having fixed the hour of our departure, 
 endeavoured to obtain from the Hungarian chan- 
 cery the license, without which it would have 
 been impossible to pass the frontier. It was 
 granted without hesitation, though in terms at 
 once vague and rigid. I stated my business ; 
 that I went merely as a traveller, curious to 
 become acquainted with the people and the 
 country, and that not knowing the points which 
 I might be induced to visit, or the length of 
 time which might be required to visit them, I 
 was anxious to receive a passport, as generally 
 and loosely worded as might be. The gentle- 
 man to whom I addressed myself was exceed- 
 
 PASSPORTS FOR HUNGARY. 
 
 379 
 
 ingly polite ; but he did not exactly fall into 
 my views. "There is no necessity," said he, 
 ^' to deviate in your instance from the common 
 order of such things. A passport is required 
 from every traveller at the frontier ; but after 
 you are once in Hungary, you may go where 
 you please, and stay as long as you feel dis- 
 posed, without attracting the slightest notice. 
 I will, therefore, write upon your passport, that 
 you are permitted to visit Pesth and its vicinity 
 for a month, and to return." I thought this 
 odd, but could not, of course, object to it, 
 because I concluded that a person in authority 
 must be a much better judge of what was 
 necessary than I; and I have now given the 
 detail at length, because the sequel will show 
 that what was esteemed perfectly regular in 
 Vienna, had well-nigh told against me in one 
 of the remote provinces. 
 
 There is constant communication, as every- 
 body knows, between Vienna, and Pesth, and 
 Constantinople, by steamboats which touch, as 
 they proceed, at almost all the most important 
 places that lie along the banks of the Danube. 
 Our oriiiinal intention was to have availed our- 
 
380 
 
 JOURNEY TO 
 
 PRESBURG. 
 
 381 
 
 selves of one of these; but we found on 
 inquiry, that the navigation was intricate, and 
 the channel of the river so low, that hardly 
 any view was to be obtained from the ship's 
 deck. We determined, therefore, to proceed 
 by land as far as Presburg, and to regulate our 
 future movements according to the aspect of 
 things there, and the information which by its 
 inhabitants might be communicated to us. 
 About seven o'clock, on a bright July morning, 
 we accordingly took our seats in a hired car- 
 riage, and were swept along through what are 
 called the Marxer lines, beyond the outermost 
 suburbs of the capital. The country round was, 
 for a while, uninteresting enough. A huge 
 plain was before us, which the heat of the 
 weather had scorched into the semblance of a 
 desert ; and there were few objects upon it, of 
 which I can say that they much relieved its 
 monotony. Several villages came, indeed, in our 
 way, and near one of them, called Semmering, 
 a large turreted building attracted our attention. 
 It had once been a summer residence of the 
 Emperor; it is now a powder-magazine, and 
 stands, as our postilion informed us, on the 
 
 same spot which, during the siege of Vienna in 
 1529, was covered by the tent of the Sultan 
 Solyman. But we had passed this some time, 
 ere the scenery began to improve. When such 
 improvement did commence, however, it was 
 very complete. The road wound inwards so 
 as to bring us parallel with the river, and to 
 open out a fine view of its waters, which being 
 split up into numerous branches, poured them- 
 selves over the plain, and enclosed a countless 
 number of islands within their eddies. Among 
 these, our postilion pointed out that on which 
 Napoleon, by the breaking down of his bridge, 
 was, during the progress of the battle of As- 
 perne, reduced to the utmost extremity, — an 
 extremity out of which nothing but the mis- 
 placed confidence of his opponents enabled 
 him to escape. It is an extensive flat, covered 
 along its edges by groves of giant willows; 
 while just beyond it, on the continent, the vil- 
 lage spires of Asperne and Essling peer forth 
 from amid screens of thick foliage. 
 
 From this period till our arrival at the Hun- 
 garian frontier, we never, for any length of 
 time, lost sight of the Danube. Here and 
 
382 
 
 JOURNEY TO 
 
 PRESBURG. 
 
 383 
 
 there, indeed, the road struck inwards, so as to 
 carry ns away, perhaps, an English mile or 
 more, from its banks; but the river, after it 
 reunites, is so broad, and the country rises over 
 it to such a height, that its noble expanse is 
 seldom concealed from you, and that only for a 
 moment. Moreover, the monuments of other 
 days,— old castles, dilapidated towers, with 
 here and there a rude pillar, or block of gra- 
 xiite,— became, at each post which we gained 
 in advance, more and more numerous. Near 
 Schwachat, for example, about ten English miles 
 out of Vienna, and itself a village of some 
 two thousand inhabitants, stands a stone, which 
 marks the spot where Leopold first greeted the 
 chivalrous Sobiesky, — not with the ardour 
 which might have been expected from one in 
 his situation, but coldly and ceremoniously, as 
 if the king, who came to save, were sufficiently 
 honoured by the notice of the emperor whom 
 he had delivered. Next came we to Fischa- 
 mend, where the traveller will do well to 
 halt, if it be only that he may delight him- 
 self, as we did, with the magnificent scene 
 which wooes his gaze from the summit of the 
 
 scaur that overhangs the Danube. I do not 
 think that I ever beheld a panorama of the 
 sort which enchanted me more. We were 
 elevated, perhaps, three hundred feet above the 
 bed of the river. Its broad, but not limpid 
 waters, measuring, perhaps, half a mile across, 
 laved the very base of the precipice, and swept 
 along by their current a rude barge or two, the 
 only productions of man's industry and skill that 
 broke in upon their loneliness. Beyond was a 
 wide plain, magnificently wooded, with here 
 and there a village, looking forth from its 
 covering of green boughs ; while, up and down, 
 the eye rested, either upon a continuance of 
 the same bold scaur ; or, more attractive still, 
 on the advanced guard of those mountains 
 amid which I and my fellow-traveller had 
 resolved to make our way. Then there were 
 tower and castle crowning the far-off* rocks- 
 there were rich vineyards, closing in to the 
 very brink on which we stood ; and, as if to 
 complete the picture, a herd of dun-coloured 
 cattle, oppressed with the excessive sultriness 
 of the day, descended, through a sort of ravine, 
 in a long line, and stood to cool themselves in 
 
 i 
 
384 
 
 REGELSBRUNN. 
 
 the Danube. Altogether it was as fair a land- 
 scape as the eye of the painter would desire to 
 behold; and we did not leave it, till a few 
 fi-uitless efforts had been made to transfer 
 some, at least, of its most attractive features to 
 a blank leaf in my journal book. 
 
 After leaving Fischamend we passed in suc- 
 cession Begelsbrunn, Deutsch Altenburg, and 
 Hainburg, near the former of which the 
 attention is arrested by what may easily be 
 mistaken for the ruins of a city. It proved, 
 however, on examination, to be the commence- 
 ment of an ancient wall, which runs from Re- 
 gelsbrunn all the way to the Neusiedler See ; 
 of which the origin is lost in the mists of anti- 
 quity, but which is generally supposed to have 
 been thrown up by the Romans. There arc 
 still the remains of towers here and there, which 
 give to it, when first beheld, its civic character ; 
 and it was, I believe, made use of, so recently 
 as 1683, as a line of defence against the Turks. 
 Moreover Deutsch Altenburg has its objects of 
 interest also ; — a tumulus, or mound, sixty feet 
 in altitude, but of a date to which tmdition goes 
 not back ; while the church of St. John, which 
 
 HAINBURG. 
 
 385 
 
 crowns an eminence near, is accounted one of 
 the most perfect Gothic edifices in the Austrian 
 dominions. And, last of all, there is Hain- 
 burg, with its old castle, and gateways equally 
 old ; both exhibiting manifest traces of war on 
 their exterior defences, even to the cannon-balls, 
 which, since the last invasion of the Turks, 
 have been left sticking where they fell. These, 
 meeting you, as it were, one after the other, and 
 forming points of rest to the eye when it has 
 grown weary of ranging over the plain, produce 
 a powerful effect upon your imagination ; m hich 
 is certainly not lessened by the aspect of the 
 living creatures, whether of the human or some 
 inferior species, which begin to gather round you. 
 I had been prepared by all that fell from 
 those, who, having themselves penetrated into 
 Hungary, were obliging enough, both in Dres- 
 den and at Vienna, to give me hints as to my 
 own proceedings, for a state of things, both 
 animate and inanimate, very different from that 
 which had met me in Germany. I knew that 
 the people were much less civilized than the 
 Germans ; and that for one, who proposed to 
 wander as I did, alone, and, wherever it might 
 
 VOL. II. 8 
 
386 
 
 THE TOBPINDAS. 
 
 be possible to do so. on foot, arms might be 
 found convenient, perhaps necessary. Yet I 
 did not expect to see a change so complete, m 
 every point of view, as that which became per- 
 ceptible even before we passed the frontier. 
 There began to meet us, a little way in advance 
 of Deutsch Altenburg, troops of those Torpin- 
 das, whom, in the ignorance of our hearts, we 
 had, in Bohemia, mistaken for gipseys. There 
 they were, with their hosen and coarse cloaks, 
 their broad sombrero hats, and matted locks, 
 trudging along, in bands of twelve or fourteen, 
 and looking up with a glance of half cunning, 
 half curiosity, from beneath their shaggy eye- 
 brows. By-and-by came herds of cattle, quite 
 different, both in colour and form, from any 
 which we had previously encountered; and 
 then pigs,-monsters of the fiM class,_-whom 
 xnen, evidently but one degree removed from 
 barbarism, were driving before them. My 
 young companion and I looked first at one 
 another, and then at the pistols and other 
 weapons which hung about our persons ; and, as 
 if the thoughts of each had wandered into the 
 Bame channel, we smiled and said nothing. 
 
 EXAMINATION AT THE FRONTIER. 387 
 
 We had quitted Vienna early in the morn- 
 ing ; it might be about three in the afternoon 
 when we reached the Custom House, — a sta- 
 tion in Wolfsthal, remarkable for nothing 
 except the constant bustle that goes on in 
 its street. In order to reach the village we 
 had been again carried away from the river, 
 through a beautiful valley, hemmed in on either 
 side, by well-wooded hills ; one of which bears 
 upon its summit what must have been, in its 
 day, a castle of prodigious strength. We were 
 now clear of that pass, and the process of exa- 
 mination began. In our case it was both brief 
 and simple. We were asked whether our 
 knapsacks contained any prohibited article? 
 We did not even know what was prohibited ; 
 but finding that of copper the authorities were 
 chiefly jealous, we answered in the negative, 
 and were permitted to pass. It was not so 
 with a whole string of wagons which came 
 from the opposite direction. One after another 
 they were compelled to discharge their con- 
 tents, very much, as it seemed, to the incon- 
 venience of the drivers ; and not till a rigid 
 examination of each separate bale and package 
 
 s 2 
 
388 
 
 GENERAL APPEARANCE 
 
 OF HUNGARY. 
 
 389 
 
 had taken place, was permission given to load 
 again. I could not help thinking that the 
 policy which drew so broad a line of distinction 
 between one portion of a great empire and 
 another, was, to say the least of it, very singu- 
 lar ; and I was not slow in being taught that it 
 is very short-sighted too, because exceedingly 
 distasteful both to the Hungarians, whom it 
 injures, and the Austrians, whom it is designed 
 
 to favour. 
 
 Our passports were looked at, of course; 
 stamped with the seal of the official, and re- 
 turned to us; — after which we pushed on. We 
 crossed the frontier, and became sensible, on 
 the instant, that a new country was before us. 
 To the right, as far as the eye could reach, was 
 one enormous plain. Rich it was, and appa- 
 rently well cultivated; for, except here and 
 there, where a huge meadow intervened, the 
 whole surface was covered with the most luxu- 
 riant corn. Of trees, on the contrary, scarce 
 a sprinkling appeared ; there were no groves 
 at all, and even hedge-rows were infrequent. 
 Towards the left, again, there was that sort of 
 character which belongs to a region in which 
 
 \ > 
 
 an extensive range of highlands has terminated. 
 Frequent hills and dales were there; grassy 
 knolls, with little valleys running through them ; 
 and such a profusion of wood as held out the 
 assurance that, in that direction at least, the 
 eye would not pine in vain for foliage. By- 
 and-by, from behind these knolls, the Danube 
 made his appearance; not broader, certainly, 
 than he had seemed to be at Fischamend, or 
 even above it, but evidently deeper, I think, 
 more rapid ; — and altogether, with a degree of 
 majesty about him which attaches to the one 
 object, that gives its peculiar character to a 
 living landscape. The Danube is, indeed, a 
 magnificent river; albeit the people who -in- 
 habit his banks are only just beginning to find 
 out that he may be turned to more accounts 
 than that of mere beauty. 
 
 The interval between Hainburg and Pres- 
 burg is but a single post ; from Wolfsthal it is 
 less than half that distance ; yet, owing to the 
 delay which occurred at the Custom House, 
 five o'clock had struck ere we obtained our 
 first view of this secondary capital of Hungary. 
 Its situation is fine, close, to the Danube, at 
 
390 
 
 PRESBURG. 
 
 PRESBURG. 
 
 391 
 
 the base and along the ascent of low hills ; the 
 crest of which is surmounted by the remains 
 of what was once a royal residence. This latter, 
 the Alba Regali of the chroniclers, is of very 
 ancient date in its foundation. It was enlarged 
 in 1 766 by the Empress Maria Theresa, and in 
 1809 burned to the ground. The Hungarians 
 say, that an Italian regiment in the French 
 service set fire to it wantonly, when evacuating 
 the place. But, however this may be, it gives, 
 even in its ruins, an air of aristocracy to the 
 town ; which, though neat and clean, and con- 
 taining a population of thirty or forty thousand 
 souls, w^ould otherwise present no very striking 
 feature to the eye of the stranger. Indeed, 
 Presburg is a great deal too near the frontier, 
 and maintains a communication too frequent 
 and too regular with Vienna, to have retained 
 almost any marks of its Hungarian origin. 
 You might, both from the structure of the 
 buildings, and the dress and manners of the 
 inhabitants, easily fall into the error of suppos- 
 ing that it belonged to Austria. 
 
 We approached Presburg by a good mac- 
 adamized road, which follows the course of the 
 
 I 
 
 river, on the opposite bank from that along 
 which the city is built It was very little 
 thronged either with carriages or horses, and 
 gave few indications, in other respects, that a 
 large, and, as we had been assured, a bustling 
 town, lay but a short way ahead of us. This was 
 the more surprising, that we could discover no 
 evidences of any transfer of the line of com- 
 merce from the land to the water; for there 
 was neither barge nor steam-boat to ruflfle the 
 bosom of the Danube. But the unfavourable 
 impression created by such an air of stillness 
 was not destined to remain. There is a long 
 bridge of boats, which connects the opposite 
 banks of the river, and affords facilities to the 
 inhabitants of Presburg for passing and re- 
 passing. We saw, as we drove on, that it was 
 crowded with people, in their best attire; 
 and the sounds of music, which rose from an 
 inclosure hard by, sufficiently pointed out the 
 nature of the attraction. We had come on a 
 lucky day, for it was a festival, and all the world 
 was abroad, to enjoy the delights of a calm and 
 delicious evening amid the shady walks of the 
 public gardens. 
 
392 
 
 THE HUNGARIAN 
 
 CONSTITUTION. 
 
 393 
 
 He who goes to Presburg without venturing 
 further, need not flatter himself that he has 
 made any, even the slightest acquaintance with 
 the manners and usages of the Hungarians. 
 The town is not a Hungarian, but a German 
 town ; the people are Germans, the language is 
 German, and the style of living is German. It 
 is true, that the historical associations con- 
 nected with the place are all as thoroughly 
 Hungarian as are those which greet you at 
 Ofen or at Graan; but the living men and 
 women seem to have striven, and striven suc- 
 cessfully, to lay aside all the peculiarities which 
 could, by possibility, connect them with the 
 tales of other days. So far we profited by the 
 circumstance that we found at the Sun ex- 
 cellent accommodations ; and excellent accom- 
 modations are not to be procured at all the 
 hotels in Hungary ; yet were we, on the whole, 
 dissatisfied with it. We desired to study 
 human nature under a novel garb, and we 
 found it still clothed as it had been in Austria. 
 Nevertheless, the visits which we paid to the 
 Old Palace, to the Cathedral, and the Konigs- 
 berg, were highly interesting, because of the 
 
 > 
 
 important page in Hungarian story which they 
 may be regarded as illustrating. What that 
 page contains, it may not be amiss if I take 
 the present opportunity of stating. 
 
 It is the peculiar boast of the Hungarians, 
 that they live under what they are pleased to 
 term, a free constitution. Subject to the sway 
 of the house of Hapsburg only through the 
 accidental lapse of the crown into the female 
 line, they utterly eschew all dependance upon 
 Austria, and would turn with indignation from 
 him who should insinuate that over them the 
 laws of the empire exercise the slightest autho- 
 rity. They are fellow-subjects with the Aus- 
 trians and Bohemians only so far that the 
 imperial and the regal crowns happen to be 
 worn by the same individual. But there is this 
 marked difference in their respective situations, 
 that whereas over Austria and Bohemia, the 
 emperor exercises an absolute sway, in Hungary 
 he has his prerogatives, beyond the limits of 
 which he is not permitted to pass. He cannot, 
 of his own will and pleasure, enact a new law ; 
 he cannot interfere with the privileges of his 
 nobles ; he cannot levy a tax, nor impose a new 
 
 S3* 
 
 <k 
 
Ov^ 
 
 EARLY HISTOBY 
 
 burden upon the nation, till the parliament, or 
 estates, have given him authority to do so. It is 
 because at Presburg the parliament meets, and 
 that there also the ceremony of the coronation 
 is carried through, that I have selected this stage 
 in my narrative for the statement of matters 
 which were not rendered familiar to me till a 
 protracted sojourn in the country gave me op- 
 portunities of collecting information, both from 
 its living inhabitants, and from the treasured 
 archives with which its libraries abound. 
 
 The tract of territory which, on our maps, 
 we describe as Hungary, is peopled by two dis- 
 tinct races of men ; — the Hungarians, who in- 
 habit the great plain of the Danube, of which 
 Cormorn may be regarded as the centre ; and 
 the Slavonians, by whom the mountain dis- 
 tricts are occupied, as well in Carpatia and 
 Transylvania, as in Croatia and the rugged dis- 
 tricts that border upon Styria. Of these, the 
 Hungarians are not considered to amount to 
 more than four millions of souls at the utmost ; 
 whereas the numbers of the Slavonians fall 
 not short of six millions. 
 
 As is the case elsewhere, however, so has it 
 
 OF HUNGARY. 
 
 395 
 
 happened here ; the poHtical institutions of the 
 few have been imposed with a strong hand on 
 the many ; for the laws that prevail, as well as 
 the machinery created to enforce them, are 
 alike Hungarian. Yet the Hungarians are, so 
 to speak, mere strangers in the land, who owe 
 their original settlement there to the edge of 
 the sword, and by the edge of the sword were 
 long compelled to maintain it. 
 
 It seems now to be admitted, that the theory 
 which once connected the conquerors of Pan- 
 nonia with the Huns, is entirely without foun- 
 dation. The Hungarians are the descendants 
 of one of those eastern hordes whom the 
 Mongols, in their progress southward, drove 
 from their homes ; and who, breaking through 
 Russia, and traversing a large extent of Poland, 
 won a settlement for themselves late in the 
 ninth century, near the sources of the Theiss. 
 Their legends say, that by lineage, they are 
 Magyars, and that they obtained the name 
 which they now bear through an accident. 
 There stood, near the spot where they first per- 
 manently encamped, a castle, called in the 
 language of the country, Hung-var, which the 
 
396 
 
 EARLY HISTORY 
 
 OF HUNGARY. 
 
 397 
 
 Strangers won, and converted into a sort of 
 capital. As often as they sallied forth from 
 that castle on predatory or other expeditions, 
 the Slavonians were accustomed to exclaim, 
 « Here come the Hung-varians," and the title 
 thus given at first as a term of mere derision or 
 hostility, came, by-and-by, to be accepted as a 
 national distinction. 
 
 I am not prepared to avow either my own 
 acceptance, or my own rejection, of this mode 
 of accounting for the origin of the Hungarian 
 name. There is no good reason to be assigned 
 one way or the other; for nations, like indi- 
 viduals, generally owe their designations to 
 some cause equally simple ; but that the Mag- 
 yars, or Myars, brought with them the ele- 
 ments of that constitution under which it is 
 the boast of their descendants that they still 
 live, is just as easily proved as that we owe our 
 most valuable institutions to the customs and 
 usages of our Saxon forefathers. The Myars, 
 like the Saxons, appear to have lived, during 
 seasons of peace, in obedience to a whole host 
 of petty and independent chiefs. If war broke 
 out, or a foreign expedition was resolved upon, 
 
 the heads of clans made choice of one of their 
 order to command the rest;— when the exigen- 
 cies of the moment ceased to operate, the com- 
 mander fell back into his proper place among 
 his equals. Seven of these tribes are stated to 
 have taken part in the earliest attack on Pan- 
 nonia. They were led by one Almus, a brave 
 and successful warrior ; and soon spread them- 
 selves over the whole of the plain ; but not for 
 many generations could they count on a per- 
 manent cessation from the hostilities with 
 which the mountaineers, driven back, yet un- 
 subdued, continued to harass them. The re- 
 sults were precisely such as occurred in Nor- 
 mandy and England, and every where else, 
 where tribes advanced to a similar pitch of 
 civilization, won settlements by the sword. 
 Arpad, the son of Almus, was chosen to suc- 
 ceed his father ; and the foundations were laid 
 both of an hereditary monarchy, and of a 
 power able and willing to place limits to that 
 of the crown. 
 
 The best historians inform us, that between 
 Arpad and the heads of tribes, a solemn com- 
 pact was entered into, which, in addition to 
 
398 
 
 EARLY HISTORY 
 
 OF HUNGARY. 
 
 399 
 
 other and less important stipulations, contaiRcd 
 the following. It was agreed that the order of 
 succession to the throne should be hereditary ; 
 that the male line should have the preference ; 
 the female not being excluded ; but that the 
 inalienable right of the people to elect their 
 own sovereign, should never be called in ques- 
 tion. Accordingly, in cases where there is no 
 break in the chain, and the son mounts the 
 throne which the father has bequeathed to him, 
 certain forms are enjoined, of which it cannot 
 be said that they are mere idle ceremonies. 
 The king's title to govern must be solemnly 
 acknowledged by the states ; and oaths are at 
 his accession administered, any refusal to accept 
 which would lead to his rejection. Moreover, 
 there is an article in this treaty which, in the 
 event of a failure in the royal line, secures to the 
 nation the right of free and unrestricted choice, 
 and the right in question was exercised, to its 
 fullest extent, so early as the beginning of the 
 twelfth century, when the house of Arpad be- 
 came extinct, and Charles of Anjou, called to 
 the throne by the free voice of the people, laid 
 the foundations of a new dynasty. 
 
 While they thus consented, as a measure of 
 prudence, to the establishment among them of 
 an hereditary throne, Arpad's peers were not 
 willing that it should be filled by an absolute 
 monarch. They claimed for themselves, and 
 for their children after them, the right of coun- 
 selling the prince in every emergency. They 
 stipulated, that neither their persons nor their 
 property, should be at the prince's disposal. 
 Military service they were, indeed, bound to pay; 
 that is, it was their duty to appear in the field 
 when lawfully summoned, and to defend the 
 country from foreign invasion, or internal revolt. 
 But even military service, in the advancement of 
 schemes of conquest, the king could not exact 
 from them; he had no power to lead them 
 across the border, except with their own con- 
 sent. Then, again, within the limits of their 
 respective estates, each noble was independent ; 
 while all situations of general trust and autho- 
 rity under the crown, were claimed by them as 
 their birth-right. Hence the establishment of 
 the palatinate in Hungary Proper, of the ban 
 in Croatia and Slavonia, of the Vayvode in 
 Transylvania, and of the great functionaries, by 
 
400 
 
 THE CONSTITUTION 
 
 OF HUNGARY. 
 
 401 
 
 whatever title designated, each of whom ap- 
 pears to have enjoyed in his own province, 
 rather the privileges of a feudal sovereign, than 
 the powers of a high officer of state. 
 
 Such were the commencements of the Hun- 
 garian constitution, — an unbending aristocracy 
 from the outset, into the forms of which time 
 has doubtless introduced many changes, — but 
 of which the spirit and the principle continue 
 to this day, precisely what they were nine 
 centuries ago. The first of these innovations 
 occurred when Stephen ascended the throne; 
 and by the open profession of Christianity, gave 
 a different character to the whole order of 
 society. His predecessors had never worn a 
 title more imposing than that of dj.ike ; Stephen 
 received from the pope both a royal crown, and 
 the style and dignity connected with it. More- 
 over, Stephen, by creating bishoprics, and 
 richly endowing both them and the monasteries, 
 very much widened the circle of the nobility; 
 which by the creation of new offices, and the 
 granting of fiefs both by prelates and princes, 
 received from time to time large accessions to 
 its numbers. Then began distinctions to be 
 
 claimed and recognised, even in the rights and 
 privileges of the privileged classes. The nobles 
 were divided into princes, prelates, barons of the 
 kingdom, and magnates, whose rights, though 
 in some trifling respects different, were yet so 
 much akin as to permit their being treated as 
 political equals. Next to them, yet claiming 
 the essential privileges of nobility, came the 
 king's chief retainers, with the holders of fiefs 
 under the princes and prelates, and the prin- 
 cipal retainers of the magnates; and finally, a 
 humbler class followed, who, corresponding to 
 our territorial but untitled aristocracy, are now 
 content to bear the appellation of eidelmen, or 
 gentry. All of these were, in the strictest 
 acceptation of the term, freemen. They owed 
 to the sovereign their right hands in war ; and 
 when the exigencies of the state required, such 
 aids in money as they themselves might vote, 
 but without such vote, in solemn comitia 
 granted, there was no authority anywhere to 
 - exact from them either a blade of corn, or the 
 most minute coin of the realm. 
 
 It was the right of the nobles to assemble 
 and pass resolutions which, when approved of 
 
402 
 
 THE CONSTITUTION 
 
 OF HUNGARY. 
 
 403 
 
 by the king> obtained the force of law. Up to 
 the commencement of the thirteenth century, 
 they used to meet in the open air ; and as each 
 brought to the place of assembly as large an 
 armed following as he could muster, it was no 
 unusual circumstance to find as many as eighty 
 thousand men in the field. Such a crowd could 
 eifect nothing of its own free Avill, and was 
 hardly to be managed by any species of influ- 
 ence. At length, in 1235, Bea IV. succeeded 
 in introducing the system of representation 
 which still holds good. By this arrangement, 
 an hereditary seat in the legislature was re- 
 stricted to the magnates, with whom sat like- 
 wise such official personages as prelates and 
 barons of the kingdom. The nobles of inferior 
 rank chose one or more from each county 
 to represent their body, while the clergy were 
 represented by abbots, titular bishops, and dig- 
 nitaries of an inferior degree. By-and-by, 
 during the reign of Siglsmond, in 1386, free 
 towns and royal cities were authorized, in like 
 manner, to choose deputies, and then the frame- 
 work of the Hungarian legislature became com- 
 plete. 
 
 The Hungarians are never more gratified than 
 when an opportunity offers of instituting a 
 parallel between their houses of parliament 
 and ours ; indeed, their taste for comparing is 
 such, that they gravely contend for a perfect 
 similarity of principle between the constitutions 
 of England and of Hungary. It would be as 
 impolitic as unjust, when discussing the question 
 with them, to deny that some such resemblance 
 prevails. Both monarchies are limited monar- 
 chies, in which the sovereigns, though invested 
 with absolute power as executors of the law, 
 are just as completely circumscribed by the 
 law, as the meanest of their subjects. It is 
 curious to observe, likewise, how nearly the 
 prerog-atives of the one correspond in all essen- 
 tial points with the prerogatives of the other. 
 The persons of both are sacred. Each is, within 
 his own realm, the fountain of honour and of 
 justice ; each commands his own army, though 
 by neither may its numbers be increased without 
 a vote of the legislature. And more remark- 
 able still, the king of Hungary, though a Roman 
 Catholic, is the head of the church in Hungary, 
 in the very same sense which we apply to the 
 
404 
 
 THE CONSTITUTION 
 
 OF HUNGARY. 
 
 405 
 
 term, when we speak of the king of England 
 as the head of the English church. In Hun- 
 gary, the crown appoints absolutely to all 
 bishoprics, abbacies, and even to canonries. 
 Confirmed the choice must be, in the first of 
 these cases, by the Pope, otherwise the spiritual 
 authority attached to the office would be 
 wanting; but the bishop-elect enters at once 
 upon the possession of his temporalties, of 
 which no exercise of papal influence can dis- 
 possess him. Moreover, it is in Hungary as it 
 is in England, — the affairs of state are adminis- 
 tered in all departments by the king's authority. 
 The king's taxes, the king's duties, the king's 
 escheats and forfeitures, are levied; the har- 
 bours are the king's harbours, the courts are 
 the king's courts, the fortresses are the king's 
 fortresses, and the people are the king's lieges. 
 But here the resemblance between the constitu- 
 tions of the two countries ends, and all endea- 
 vour to trace it further is useless. 
 
 Even in reference to the kingly oflSce, we soon 
 begin to find ourselves diverging one from ano- 
 ther. The crown in Hungary is elective far more 
 decidedly than in England. We, indeed, in the 
 
 ceremony of our coronation, retain so much of 
 the spirit which animated our Saxon forefathers, 
 that the question is still put to the people, — 
 <« Will ye have this prince to reign over you ?" 
 and the prince is bound by solemn oath to 
 govern according to law ; but the ceremony of 
 a coronation is not so vital among us, as that it 
 might not be passed over with impunity. In 
 Hungary, so tenacious are the magnates on 
 the one hand, and so sensitive the emperor 
 on the other, that he never omits, in his own 
 life-time, to have the heir to the imperial 
 diadem, crowned king in Hungary. The pre- 
 sent emperor became king of Hungary three 
 years previous to the death of his father; 
 and now the empress has been crowned at 
 Presburg, so that there may be no link want- 
 ing in the chain which holds the several por- 
 tions of the empire together. Again, the king 
 of Hungary, while he enjoys various privileges, 
 to which the king of England cannot lay 
 claim, is likewise subjected to various re- 
 straints, from which the king of England is 
 free. The former, for example, as he appoints 
 arbitrarily to vacant bishoprics, so he inherits 
 
406 
 
 THE CONSTITUTION 
 
 the wbole of a bishop's professional savings, 
 who may chance to have died intestate. If 
 the bishop possess hereditary property, it goes, 
 of course, at his decease, to his next of kin; 
 but his accumulations, be they great or small, 
 are taken possession of by the crown. And 
 even the making of a will saves but one-third 
 of them. On the other hand, the king of 
 Hungary is watched and restrained in the exer- 
 cise of his prerogatives, not only by a parlia- 
 ment, jealous of its privileges, but by officers 
 appointed for that purpose. The palatine is a 
 strange compound of king's lieutenant and 
 guardian of the liberties of the nation. He is 
 chosen for life out of four personages proposed 
 to the states by the sovereign ; and as in the 
 king's absence he exercises vice-regal powers, 
 so both then, and at other seasons, he medi- 
 ates between the crown and the people, taking 
 care that the former shall not trench upon the 
 liberties of the latter, nor the latter make any 
 encroachments on the legal prerogatives of the 
 former. 
 
 I might specify many other points in which 
 even the parallel between the 'kingly offices in 
 
 OF HUNGARY. 
 
 407 
 
 Hungary and in England fails ; but it is not 
 necessary. We have but to pass downwards to 
 the classes below royalty, and all ground of 
 comparison between the institutions of the 
 two countries ceases. The parliament of Hun- 
 gary is a very different affair from the parlia- 
 ment of England. Its members sit, to be sure, 
 in two chambers, or houses, and enjoy, when 
 assembled, the most absolute freedom of 
 speech ; but they meet very rarely, they trans- 
 act very little business when they do meet, and 
 both in the principle which brings them to- 
 gether, and in their arrangements when assem- 
 bled, they outrage every notion which we are 
 accustomed to cherish of perfection in such 
 matters. The spirit of the Hungarian consti- 
 tution requires that the estates should assemble 
 at least once in every five years ; the practice 
 of the same constitution leaves the king at 
 liberty to call together, and to dissolve the cham- 
 bers at pleasure. I have already stated, that 
 to the higher order of nobility, the privilege 
 appertains of meeting, in their own persons, to 
 deliberate on questions affecting the public 
 weal. These, — ^the princes and magnates, — oc- 
 
408 
 
 THE CONSTITUTION 
 
 OF HUNGARY. 
 
 409 
 
 cupy the same chamber with the prelates and 
 barons of the kingdom. The other chamber is 
 given up to the representatives of the lesser 
 nobles, of the free towns, and of the clergy; 
 and, strange to say, to the proxies of such mag- 
 nates as may find it inconvenient, personally, to 
 attend in their places. But though there are 
 only two chambers, there are four distinct 
 estates, each of w^hich votes within itself in 
 the first instance, and then carries the result of 
 its scrutiny to the common centre. And 
 finally, while the Upper House is presided over 
 by the palatine, the lower is regulated and 
 kept in order by an official personage who bears 
 the somewhat lengthy title of Personalis pre- 
 sentiae Regise in judiciis locum tenens. He 
 must be of noble birth, of course, and is like- 
 wise President of the High Court of Justiciary. 
 There are not fewer than 661 members in the 
 first of these houses, whereas the last can count 
 upon 286 only. 
 
 The representative members of the Hunga- 
 rian legislature are all paid by their constitu- 
 ents, who again consist of the eidelmen of the 
 several counties. Of these very many are, in 
 
 point of fact, mere peasants, whom the mis- 
 fortunes or imprudence of their ancestors have 
 reduced to poverty; but all must have noble 
 blood in their veins, — for it is an honourable 
 descent, and not the possession of lands or 
 houses, which entitles a man to exercise the 
 elective franchise in Hungary. Such poor 
 nobles are, of course, controlled and managed 
 by their wealthier neighbours, who, when the 
 season of an election comes round, deal with 
 them pretty much as our own candidates and 
 their committees deal with the poor voters in 
 boroughs. There is prodigious feasting at the 
 castle, — there is no end of magnanimous de- 
 clarations, — no lack of brilliant and spirit- 
 stirring speeches ; under the influence of which, 
 and of the wine and strong drinks that accom- 
 pany them, the pauper eidelman becomes a hero 
 in his own eyes. But, alas ! political gratitude 
 is not more enduring in Hungary than else- 
 where. The crisis has its course, and the 
 scion of a glorious race, — the representative of 
 a family which followed Almus to the Theiss 
 and gave the coronet to Arpad, — ^goes back to 
 his hovel, and his daily toil, and his filth, and 
 
 VOL. II. T 
 
410 
 
 THE CONSTITUTION 
 
 M 
 
 his wretchedness, there to chew the cud of bit- 
 ter fancy, till the return of an electioneering 
 season shall call him forth once more to act a 
 part upon the stage of life. 
 
 My reader will be good enough to believe 
 that while I thus speak of a country, — very 
 much under-peopled by ten millions of souls, — 
 I am referring to the condition of a minute 
 fraction of that population, — of something less 
 than two hundred thousand persons, in whom 
 alone the existence of rights and privileges is 
 by the law recognised. The people, — ^properly 
 so called, — the peasants who cultivate the soil, 
 the mechanics who construct the dwellings, the 
 artisans who fabricate your household utensils, 
 your wearing apparel, your carriages, your 
 ships, your machinery; these are precisely in 
 the condition of Gurth and Wamba in Sir 
 Walter Scott's romance of Ivanhoe. In the 
 rural districts every man whom you meet, pro- 
 vided he be neither a noble nor a soldier, 
 belongs to somebody. He has no rights of his 
 own. He is a portion of another man's chat- 
 tels ; he is bought and sold with the land, as if 
 he were a horse or an ox. On him, too, all 
 
 OF HUNGARY. 
 
 411 
 
 the common burdens of the state are thrown. 
 If the parliament vote an increase of the taxes, 
 it is from the peasants that these taxes are 
 wrung; for the lord takes care, though he 
 himself pay immediately, that he shall be in- 
 demnified by the deduction which he makes 
 from his serfs' allowances. It is the same 
 spirit which provides that the peasantry, who 
 make the roads, and by the labour of their 
 hands keep them in repair, shall be the only 
 class of persons of whom toll is anywhere ex- 
 acted. An eidelman in his chariot passes free 
 through every barrier, — a poor peasant's wagon 
 is stopped at each, till the full amount of mout, 
 as it is called, has been settled. But this is 
 not all. Till the year 1835, each landed pro- 
 prietor possessed over his peasantry an almost 
 unlimited power of punishment, into his man- 
 ner of exercising which no human being ever 
 took the trouble to inquire. Accordingly, you 
 still find, as an appendage to each mansion, a 
 prison, with its bolts and chains, and other im- 
 plements of torture; while the rod was as 
 freely applied to the backs of delinquents, real 
 or imaginary, as ever the whip made acquaint- 
 
 T 2 
 
412 
 
 THE CONSTITUTION 
 
 ance with the persons of our own negroes in a 
 West Indian sugar-field. It is to Count Che- 
 chini, (Szechenzi,) in this, and many other re- 
 spects, the greatest benefactor to his country 
 which modern times has raised up, that Hungary 
 stands indebted for a law, which, for the first 
 time^ in the annals of the nation, gives to the 
 poor peasant something like protection against 
 the tyranny of a capricious master. Since the 
 passing of that act there have been established 
 in all the counties regular magistrates, before 
 whom delinquents must be brought, and with- 
 out whose sanction the punishment of the lash 
 is supposed never to be inflicted. I did not 
 find, however, on inquiry, that much regard 
 was paid in practice to this statute. The no- 
 bles still flog their serfs, when the humour 
 takes them, and the serfs are too hopeless of 
 finding redress, by an appeal from one noble to 
 another, ever, except in extreme cases, to think 
 of making it. 
 
 Such, in few words, is the Hungarian con- 
 stitution, — a limited monarchy, doubtless, which 
 secures from the oppression of the sovereign a 
 minute fraction of his subjects, and leaves all 
 
 OF HUNGARY. 
 
 413 
 
 the rest to the tender mercies, not of one 
 supreme head, whom motives of policy will 
 render humane, and generally just, but of a band 
 of nobles ; who, nursed in the most exagge- 
 rated notions of their own importance, look 
 upon all beneath them as mere beasts of 
 burden. To speak of it as akin to the con- 
 stitution under which we live, is to err entirely. 
 It may, and does, in numerous points, resemble 
 the constitution of England, as it existed under 
 the first of the Tudors ; but with that which 
 secures to every Englishman the rights which 
 make him what he is, it has nothing in com- 
 mon. A Hungarian noble is a very great man. 
 A Hungarian eidelman is inferior to him, only 
 if he be less wealthy. A Hungarian peasant is 
 a serf. There is an excellent preparation made, 
 doubtless, for better things in the future, but in 
 its immediate working, the constitution which 
 80 orders matters, is to the people a thousand- 
 fold more oppressive than the most absolute 
 
 despotism. 
 
 I have spoken of the solemnity of the king's 
 coronation as taking place at Presburg ; I am 
 not sure that it is necessary to describe the 
 
414 
 
 CORONATION OF 
 
 THE KING OF HUNGARY. 
 
 415 
 
 ceremony in detail. Like its counterpart 
 among ouTselves, it is regarded as the ratifica- 
 tion of a covenant between the sovereign and 
 the people, and is performed, amid much pomp, 
 both religious and civil. The monarch elect, 
 attended by his magnates and councillors, 
 repairs to the cathedral, where the officiating 
 prelate administers to him the customary oaths, 
 by which he binds himself to govern according 
 to law, to protect the church, to uphold the 
 privileges of the nobility, and to secure the 
 kingdom against foreign aggression. He is 
 anointed with the holy oil, and undergoes the 
 usual routine of enrobing and crowning ; after 
 which he proceeds on horseback, the states of 
 the realm in his train, to the Kcinigsberg. It 
 is a circular mound, perhaps fifty feet high, 
 which stands just outside the city, and com- 
 mands an extensive view over the plain, both 
 eastward and southward. This the king as- 
 cends, his nobles, and knights, and dignified 
 clergy being collected in a mass round its base ; 
 and, as all are on horseback, — as their dresses 
 are picturesque, their arms and housings 
 costly, and their port chivalrous in the extreme, 
 
 the spectacle is, perhaps, as grand as can be met 
 with in any part of Europe. Beyond the cir- 
 cle of the privileged classes, again, enormous 
 crowds are gathered,— for the population flocks 
 from far and near to behold the ceremony; and 
 the curious in such matters will doubtless find 
 as much to admire in their grotesque appear- 
 ance, as in the haughty port and Oriental 
 splendour of their superiors. Meanwhile the 
 king has ridden to the crest of the hill, where, 
 before the bishops, he again gives the pledges 
 which had been exacted from him in the 
 cathedral. Finally, he draws his sword, and 
 making a cut towards each of the cardinal 
 points, thereby denotes, that, let danger come 
 from what quarter it may, he will repel it. 
 Then are medals scattered among the crowd ; 
 then is the air rent with shouts, and the 
 princely cavalcade returns to the city in the 
 same order which attended its outward pro- 
 gress. 
 
 END OF THE SECOND VOLUME. 
 
London: John W. Parker, St. Martin's Lank. 
 
 

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 Beside the main topic this book also treats of 
 Subject No. On page Subject No. On page. 
 
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J. '-^^-T. 
 
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 GERMANY, 
 
 BOHEMIA, AND HUNGARY, 
 
 Visited in 1837. 
 
 BY 
 
 THE REV. G. R. GLEIG, M.A., 
 
 CHAPLAIN TO THE ROYAL HOSPITAL, 
 CHELSEA. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 LONDON: 
 JOHN W. PARKER, WEST STRAND. 
 
 M.DCCC.XXXIX. 
 
CONTENTS OF VOLUME III. 
 
 Chapter I. 
 
 1^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ! 
 
 Page 
 
 17 
 
 39 
 
 Preparations for a Pedestrian Tour — Carpatian Scenery — 
 Costumes — Hamlets— St. Georg— Modern—Cadets of 
 Cavalry - -- 
 
 Chapter II. 
 
 Walk to Tymau — Lose our Way. — Overtaken by a Hun- 
 garian Gentleman — Mr. Scultati's House— Hungarian 
 Hospitality - - - - - - 
 
 Chapter III. 
 Freystadtl— The Grafinn Erdedi— Walk to Pischtian— 
 The State of Society— Neustadtl— The Forstban - 
 
 Chapter IV. 
 Trentschin — The Ruins — Tepla — Scene in the Banqueting 
 Room — Illova — Beise — Mr. De Butts — His Quarters 
 —Sobri the Bandit - 69 
 
 Chapter V. 
 Glen of SuUov — Protestant Population — Sillein — Fish the 
 "Waag— Castle of Budatin— March up the Vale— Ovar 
 Castle— Torpinda Settlement - - - - 110 
 
 Chapter VI. 
 St. Marton — Curious Customs — Pursue our Walk — The 
 Huno-arian Peasant — State of Protestantism — Of Agri- 
 culture^ — Mossocs — Toilsome March — Kremnitz — Pro- 
 ceed towards Neusohl — Recalled — The Gipsies - 147 
 
 Chapter VII. 
 Kreutz— The Ruined Castle— Mr. Crawford and the Wal- 
 moden Cuirassiers — The Bishop's Party — March to 
 
 eaoio 
 
/ 
 
 IV 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Shamowitz— Shemnitz— The Mines— Austrian Ca- 
 valry — Customs of the Army - - - - 185 
 
 Chapter VIII. 
 Koesintz— The Convent of St. Benedict— Part from the 
 Cuirassiers— Countess Steinlein— Mr. Carey— Comoro 
 — Babolna — The Farm and Stud - . - 217 
 
 Chapter IX. 
 Journey to Pesth— Ofen and Pesth- Embark forSemlin— 
 
 Count Szechenzi 243 
 
 Chapter X. 
 Approach to Semlin— Semlin— The Quarantine Station— 
 
 The Military Counties 272 
 
 Chapter XI. 
 Journey to Morovitch— Strange Aspect of Things, Ani- 
 mate and Inanimate— Morovitch— Visited by the Cap- 
 tain Vinkoveze — Neu Gradiska — The Vice-Ban Mar- 
 
 chovicz - - 299 
 
 Chapter XII. 
 Novska— Difficulty of further Conveyance— Turn towards 
 Agram— The Inn at Dugoszella— Agram— State of 
 Cr*oatia as to Religion and Civilization — Carlstadt— 
 Count Nugent's Chateau at Bosolievo — Journey pur- 
 sued—Bad Omens — Skrad— Dalniza— The Horizon 
 darkens — Insolence of the People - - - - 335 
 
 Chapter XIII. 
 Leave Dalniza— "Wild Scenery— The Carriage stopped— 
 Affray with the Peasantry — Wounded and Over- 
 powered—Carried into a Cottage— A Night among 
 the Croats— Taken back to Dalniza— Put in Irons — 
 Behaviour of a Croatian Magistrate — Arrival of Mr. 
 Hill, the English Vice-Consul, from Fiume— Released 
 Finme — The Kindness of Mr. and Mrs. Smith - 363 
 
 
 'i. 
 
 GERMANY, BOHEMIA, AND HUNGARY, 
 
 IN 1837. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 preparations for a pedestrian tour. CARPATIAN 
 
 SCENERY. — COSTUMES. HAMLETS. — ST. GEORG. — MO- 
 DERN. CADETS OF CAVALRY. 
 
 I HAVE very little to record of Presburg itself. 
 The town, as I have stated already, is, in its 
 general character, much more German than 
 Hungarian ; and the people, a mixture of the 
 two races, exhibit some of the peculiarities of 
 botli. Moreover, on market-days, — and, in- 
 deed, at an early hour of every morning, — 
 bands of country-peojile come in, whose swarthy 
 features, and wild and outlandish costumes, 
 bespeak them as belonging to a race quite dis- 
 tinct from that of the burghers. But of the 
 shops I took no heed, and the theatre I did 
 not visit. We had dismissed our carriage on 
 reaching the Sun, and now sent for the host, 
 to consult him as to the practicability of the 
 
 VOL. III. B 
 
 
PREPARATIONS FOR 
 
 A HUNGARIAN TOUR. 
 
 pedestrian tour, on the accomplishment of 
 which we had set our hearts. He declared 
 himself utterly confounded by the proposal. 
 Such a thing had never been heard of in Hun- 
 gary, and such a thing ought not to be attempted; 
 for, in the first place, nobody would treat us, 
 either on the road or at the inns, with the 
 respect which was our due ; and, in the next, 
 he did not believe that we should be safe. We 
 smiled at these objections, assuring him, that 
 of respect, in his acceptation of the term, we 
 were not at all covetous ; and that, as to per- 
 sonal danger, we had heard so much, and seen 
 so little of it, elsewhere, that we could not 
 bring ourselves to entertain the slightest appre- 
 hension of it. " Very well, gentlemen," was the 
 landlord's reply, " your pleasure must be done. 
 But I warn you, that Hungary is not like Ger- 
 many ; and that in the mountains towards which 
 you propose to go, there are plenty of bad people 
 concealed. It is not at all certain that Sobri 
 himself is dead, and if he be, he has left nume- 
 rous representatives behind him." 
 
 We had no leisure then to inquire into the 
 history of Sobri ; neither, indeed, did it occur 
 to us that such inquiry would be worth making. 
 But, having intrusted our host with certain 
 articles of apparel, with which we considered it 
 
 unnecessary, in so warm a climate, to overload 
 ourselves, we begged him to keep them safe 
 till we should return to claim them. As we 
 never did return, I trust that the honest man 
 has long ago converted them to his own use ; 
 and should it be otherwise, I hereby give him 
 ample authority so to dispose of them. 
 
 We slept that night, despite of the land- 
 lord's warnings, as we generally did, like tops, 
 and at early dawn were astir, and fall of 
 zeal for the enterprise before us. The morn- 
 ing Avas fine, and the sky mottled with shift- 
 ing clouds. We ate our breakfast merrily, 
 settled our bill, which, by-the-by, was by no 
 means moderate, and buckling on our knap- 
 sacks, resumed, once more, our erratic course, 
 very much at the guidance of fortune. An 
 object we doubtless had. It was, to penetrate 
 through the Carpatian range into Galicia, to 
 pass on as far as Cracow, if practicable, and 
 returning by Transylvania, to visit Pestli and 
 Ofen. This done, our imaginations pointed 
 towards Styria, Illyria, and Italy; for we con- 
 ceived that there would not be much to inte- 
 rest or amuse in the great plain of Hungary^ 
 and visions of Rome herself were before us. 
 But, as often happens with men who speculate 
 on contingencies, our scheme was not destined 
 
 B 2 
 
 ^1 
 
ft 
 
 4 ENVIRONS OF 
 
 to be worked out. We never crossed the Ga- 
 lician border at all ; we never saw Cracow ; we 
 did traverse a large portion of the Hungarian 
 plain, and enjoyed the expedition exceedingly. 
 So much for the difference that, even in mat- 
 ters of travel, will sometimes occur between 
 theory and practice. 
 
 Our point, this day, was Modern, a town on 
 the way to Trentschin, and distant from Pros- 
 buro' about eighteen or twenty English miles 
 We" made for it along a well-constructed road, 
 which skirting the bases of the mountains, in- 
 troduced us, at every step, to scenes of sur- 
 passing interest. On our left stood the hills, 
 lo^v and covered with vineyards to their sum- 
 n,its,_the roots and offshoots of the giant 
 masses which separate Hungary, on the west 
 and north, from Moravia and Galicia ; on our 
 right, a vast plain, feathered here and there 
 ^^-ith clumps of trees, and presenting the ap- 
 pearance rather of an enormous park, than of 
 a portion of a wide agricultural district. Hedge- 
 rows and gardens, too, were, for a while abun- 
 dant ; the latter stocked with vegetables and 
 fruits for which Presburg supplies a market, 
 the former kept, as long as they continued to 
 adorn the landscape, with a neatness which 
 would have done no discredit to Kent or 
 
 TRESBURG. 5 
 
 Soijiersetsliire. Yet the appearance of every- 
 thing around us, animate as well as inanimate, 
 bore a character quite, distinct from all which 
 we had previously encountered. We felt that 
 we were at last in a new country; we were 
 conscious that we should have to deal with 
 ])eople not alone essentially different from our- 
 selves, but having nothing in common either 
 with the Germans or the Bohemians. We saw 
 that, in their domestic habits, in their indi- 
 vidual bearing, in their dress, complexion, and 
 mode of exercising their powers, they belonged 
 to a portion of human society with which we 
 had yet to form an acquaintance. The dark 
 and swarthy countenances of the men, their 
 small, piercing eyes, their long, shaggy, and 
 matted hair, which hung over their shoulders, 
 the moustache shading the upper lip, with liere 
 and there a beard that reached to the chest ; 
 these things, one and all, pointed to a stock — 
 quite distinct from that to which the natives of 
 the west of Europe trace back their origin. 
 It seemed to me as if we had passed the line 
 which divides one of the great families of man- 
 kind from another, and if I did not look round 
 for pagodas and mosques, their occurrence, at 
 any given moment, would have little surprised 
 me. 
 
 I 
 
€ 
 
 DRESS OF 
 
 ^ It was not, however, in their features alone, 
 that the race among which we now found 
 ourselves, differed from the inhabitants of the 
 other provinces through which we had passed. 
 There was a complete change of costume, a 
 complete change of deportment, a complete 
 change in the construction of their dwellings, 
 and in every thing which might have contri- 
 buted to the formation of their national cha- 
 racter. The groups of peasants whom we met, 
 some bearing burdens, others driving loaded 
 cars towards the town, reminded me, indeed, a 
 little of the Torpindas. The men wore like 
 them, short cloaks of coarse brown cloth, and 
 hosen of the same material, made tight to the 
 shape. Their head-dress, too, was the broad, 
 sombrero hat ; and they carried long poles in 
 their hands, shod with iron spikes. But the 
 women were absolute novelties; for not one 
 female Torpinda had ever crossed our path. 
 Their dress was a sort of loose bodice, with a 
 handkerchief tied over their heads ; petticoats 
 wide, but of meagre longitude, and coloured 
 stockings ; while both sexes had their feet pro- 
 tected against the wear and tear of travel, by 
 pointed wooden clogs. Moreover, the very 
 men bore no other resemblance to the Tor- 
 pindas than might be created by a similarity 
 
 THE PEASANTRY. 7 
 
 in costume and complexion. The Torpindas 
 struck me, wherever I saw them, as a morose 
 and sullen race. These .peasants were as much 
 otherwise as can easily be imagined. No doubt 
 we were to them objects of quite as much 
 curiosity as they could be to us ; and we re- 
 ceived from them, in consequence, many a 
 broad and lengthened stare as we passed. But 
 it was always accompanied by a good-natured 
 smile, and a nod of the head, in return to our 
 salutation; and among the women, at least, 
 with a sort of joking, which was, to us, for 
 obvious reasons, quite unintelligible. 
 
 For some time after quitting Presburg, the 
 marks of civilization that greeted us were both 
 numerous and satisfactory. No vineyards could 
 be better kept than those which covered the 
 sides of these low hills; while the red-tiled 
 cottages that peeped out from amid the cluster- 
 ing grapes, showed to peculiar advantage ; but 
 a couple of hours' walk sufficed to effect a 
 change. We were, by this time, getting be- 
 yond the influence of civic society. The gar- 
 dens, tilled and stocked for the exclusive bene- 
 fit of Presburg, became gradually less nume- 
 rous, till they ceased altogether. The bases, 
 and a portion of the ascent of the hills, might 
 continue green with an abundant crop of the 
 
A SLAVONIAN VILLAGE. 
 
 APPEARANCE OF THE INHABITANTS. 
 
 9 
 
 M 
 
 vine; but the summits, rising more and more 
 above the plain, assumed a bolder aspect, and 
 forests, the growth of ages, crowned them. 
 Moreover, we looked to the right, and saw 
 tliat, in that direction, too, the scene was put- 
 ting on a different character. The park-like 
 appearance of the landscape, melted, by de- 
 grees, away. The lordly clumps of oak and 
 beech ceased to challenge our regard ; and the 
 enormous meadow merged in the commence- 
 ment of a corn-field, the limits of which no 
 powers of vision could reach. Awav, and 
 away, beyond the farthest ken of human eye, 
 the wheat and the rye were waving — without a 
 hamlet, without a cottage, without a homestead, 
 without a stall to break in upon their sameness. 
 It was one of the most extraordinary, and I 
 must add, most uninteresting specimens of fer- 
 tility which has ever come under the observation 
 of my senses, and my imagination had no means 
 of embracing it. 
 
 We might have traversed a space of eight 
 English miles, pausing, from time to time, to 
 look round from the eminences that came in 
 our way, when a Slavonian village,— the first of 
 the sort which we had seen,— appeared in the 
 distance. It reminded me more of the wig- 
 wams which I have seen inhabited by slaves in 
 
 i 
 
 Jamaica, than of any settlement of labourers in 
 any quarter of civilized Europe. It was a mere 
 hamlet, containing, perhaps, some twenty huts, 
 all of them circular in their form, and thatched 
 over with straw ; and as they stood apart one 
 from another, there needed but a small stretch ot 
 the /ancy to regard them as the dwelling-places 
 of negroes. But the figures which passed to 
 and from them,— how shall I describe these ? 
 Their loose trowsers and short cloaks, their hats, 
 broad in the brim, yet sharp and high in the 
 crown, came upon us at first with an effect so 
 strange, that I know not in what terms to de- 
 fine it. Had we been standing in any other 
 situation than under the burning sun of a July 
 day, I could have fancied that we had fallen 
 suddenly among a body of Esquimaux. And 
 then their tools,— their three-pronged spades, 
 with handles twelve feet long at the least; 
 their rude litters for the conveyance of corn- 
 sheafs, their rakes, their hoes, fabricated on the 
 exact model of the classics, and their ploughs, 
 mere beams of timber, put together in the most 
 unworkmanlike manner ; all these were so dif- 
 ferent from the implements made use of else- 
 where, as more and more to impress upon us 
 an assurance that at length our craving after 
 the novel in human society, would be gratified. 
 
 B 3 
 
■'i 
 
 10 
 
 GLORIOUS PANORAMA. 
 
 ST. GEORG. 
 
 11 
 
 'i||| 
 
 |ii 
 
 We sat down on the brow of a knoll to exa- 
 mine these objects while Me rested ; and pur- 
 sued our journey at last in a degree of exhilira- 
 tion and excitement, even to look back on 
 which is highly agreeable. 
 
 We had been so much occupied up to the 
 present moment with the novelties which, at 
 each step in advance crowded upon us, that 
 the idea of looking behind never once occurred. 
 Before quitting the brow of the hill, thoughts 
 of the past came back upon us, and we turned 
 round. I never beheld a more striking scene 
 of the kind. The road, the hills, the park-like 
 plain, were all as we had previously seen them, 
 vith this single, though most marked excep- 
 tion, that they were all beheld in a different 
 l^oint of view ; but the extremity of the pano- 
 rama was that which mainly delighted us. 
 There, at the utmost limit of a huge vista, ui)rose 
 the castle of Presburg, crowning a hill with its 
 dila])idated towers; and, as it leaned against 
 the horizon, it struck me as being like many • 
 other things which we meet in life,_far more 
 4ittractive as beheld from a distance, than when 
 subjected to a closer scrutiny. We gazed long 
 and joyously on the glorious panorama, and 
 then trudged forward. 
 
 We descended the little eminence, and found 
 
 ourselves in a sort of glade,— the road passing 
 through the middle of a carpet of rich sward,— 
 over which trees of most umbrageous shape 
 were scattered. On a green knoll to the left 
 three crosses had been erected,— the effigies of 
 our Lord between the two thieves,— and before 
 the centre figure a peasant was kneeling. We 
 did not disturb him in his devotions ; but lifted 
 our hats, and passed on. By-and-by, the out- 
 lines of a fortified town became visible, and we 
 pushed towards it. It proved to be St. Georg, 
 a place of little note, though like almost all the 
 towns in Carpatia, surrounded by a wall, quite 
 indefensible against the fire of artillery, but 
 sufficiently strong to resist the attack of a body 
 of predatory horsemen. I found, on inquiry, 
 that such places enjoyed, in former years, pecu- 
 liar privileges, and that they had been conferred 
 on them in consequence of the shelter which 
 the towns afforded to the peasants when driven 
 from their homes by an inroad of the Turks. 
 Moreover, it turned out that the dates of these 
 rude walls and towers were in most cases the 
 same. They had all been erected during the 
 last and most terrible outburst of th^ Moslems, 
 when not Hungary alone, but Austria likewise, 
 was overrun; and feeble as to our eyes they 
 now appeared, there were few of them which, 
 
 .a 
 
12 
 
 MODERN. 
 
 ACCOMMODATION AT THE IXN 
 
 13 
 
 in their day, had not done the state some 
 service. 
 
 We halted at St. Georg to rest, and ordered 
 dinner. It was served up to us in a sort of 
 coffee-room, and though not dressed as Dr. Kit- 
 chener would have recommended, to persons 
 whose appetites a nine miles' walk had sharp- 
 ened, it proved exceedingly acceptable. The 
 cliarge, too, struck us as something ludicrously 
 moderate ; it amounted, inclusive of a flask of 
 excellent wine, to sixteen pence half])enny of 
 our money. This settled, and the thousand and 
 one questions put by our curious host having 
 been either answered or evaded, we resumed 
 our marcli, and at five in the afternoon reached 
 Modern. Like St. Georg, it likewise had its 
 walls and towers, within which a half-troop of 
 cuirassiers found quarters. We made for the 
 best inn in the place, — were stared at, as we 
 expected to be, by the landlord, — overcame his 
 scruples by the good humour with which we 
 sustained the scrutiny, and took possession of 
 our billet. 
 
 The room into which we were ushered opened 
 at once into the inn-yard, and as it affords a 
 fair specimen of the sort of accommodation 
 which an Hungarian hotel of the better order 
 supplies, it is right that I should describe it. 
 
 An exceedingly comfortless billet, it proved, 
 of course. It contained two truckle beds, a 
 table, some chairs, and a broken mirror. The 
 roof was arched ; and the only light admitted, 
 came through a small window at one of the 
 extremities, in front of which strong iron bars 
 ^vere fastened. There were two doors, only 
 one of which had a bolt on the inside : and the 
 floor seemed but little acquainted with mop or 
 pail. Such an apartment, when exhibited as 
 the best which a cabaret of no mean exterior 
 could furnish, held out slender promise of luxu- 
 rious quarters elsewhere ; yet we had made up 
 our minds to cast fastidiousness in such matters 
 aside, and we did not think it worth while to 
 anticipate evil. On the contrary, as our host— 
 his first suspicion over— had become both civil 
 and kind, we applied ourselves diligently to the 
 task of dressing, and gave orders that supper 
 should be prepared against the seasonable hour 
 of eight. This done, and our toilets completed, 
 we strolled out ; and after taking a hasty sur- 
 vey of the streets, passed through one of the 
 gates, and made for a vine-clad hill which 
 immediately overlooked it. 
 
 Our stroll, for I cannot speak of it as more, 
 proved to be extremely agreeable. The heat 
 of the day wa«s past, and though somewhat 
 
14 
 
 EAMBLE IN 
 
 THE ENVIRONS. 
 
 15 
 
 jaded with our march, we were still capable of 
 enjoying the delicious breeze, as it shook the 
 leaves of the graceful plants, amid which we 
 found'both shelter and refreshment. Though 
 the fmit was not ripe, it yet hung in heavy 
 bunches from the vines, which are here 
 trimmed and trained with exceeding skill, bemg 
 brought to a state intermediate, as it were, be- 
 tween the low bush-like forms of those in the 
 south of France, and the festoons and spiry 
 pillars which you see in Spain and Italy. 
 Through long alleys of such, we accorduigly 
 wandered on, making several vain efforts to 
 communicate with certain peasants whom we 
 found engaged in tying up the summer shoots, 
 till having reached the summit of the acclivity, 
 we there lay down, that we might look abroad 
 upon the landscape beneath us. I cannot un- 
 dertake to describe it. There was nothing of 
 grandeur about it ; no evidence of surpassing 
 wealth ; nor any traces of skill or ingenuity 
 anywhere ; but something so entirely different 
 from all which I had seen elsewhere, that it 
 produced a powerful effect upon me. We 
 looked down into the main street of the town, 
 which seemed as if the plague had recently 
 swept over it; for scarcely a living creature was 
 astir. Beyond that a huge plain greeted us. 
 
 waving far and wide with corn. But there 
 were no hamlets scattered over it, no detached 
 farm-houses, no cottages, nor any other trace 
 of the hands by which that vast field must 
 have been cultivated, and would by-and-by be 
 shorn of its glory. All this, though in due 
 time explained, struck us at the moment as 
 involving inconsistencies through which it would 
 be impossible to make our way, so having per- 
 mitted both vision and fancy to exercise them- 
 selves till they grew weary with the task, we 
 gathered ourselves up from our grassy couch, 
 and returned to the inn. 
 
 One of the first inquiries put to us on our 
 arrival in Modern, had been, " Whence come 
 you ?— of what land are you the natives ?" We 
 told the truth, of course ; and now our host 
 met us, with the intelligence that there was 
 another Englishman in the town,— a cadet, in 
 the regiment of which I have already spoken, 
 as having a half-troop in quarters there. Our 
 obvious rejoinder was, " Go and find him out, 
 and tell him that we shall be very glad if he 
 will do us the favour to join us at supper." 
 Our host went, and in quarter of an hour there 
 entered our apartment a young gentleman, who 
 appeared less surprised than gratified to find 
 himself once more in the society of his coun- 
 
16 
 
 A CAVALRY CADET. 
 
 17 
 
 trymen. His name was Barrington, lie bad 
 served several years in the Austrian cavalry, 
 and though in daily expectation of a commis- 
 sion, still did duty as a cadet. We became 
 excellent friends in a moment; and hearing 
 him speak of two other cadets, — one an Italian, 
 the other a German from the Rhine,— as his 
 messmates and friends, we begged that they 
 too might be sent for, and they came. It is 
 not worth while to repeat even the substance 
 of the conversation that passed among us. It 
 turned chiefly, as may be supposed, on military 
 matters, in which all seemed to be enthusiasts ; 
 and was kept up with great spirit till midnight. 
 Then, however, as they found that I could not 
 be persuaded to delay another day, but must 
 start at an early hour on the morrow, they rose 
 and bade us farewell. Mr. Barrington, indeed, 
 promised us an escort, — a favour which we 
 willingly accepted, because our route lay over a 
 tract of country where, on the map at least, no 
 roads were marked; but with the other two, 
 we shook hands, probably for the last time. I 
 need scarcely add, that the five hours' sleep 
 which we obtained were very sound, and very 
 refreshing. 
 
 ^iM 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 WALK TO TYBNAU.— LOSE OUB WAY.— OVERTAKEN BY A 
 HUNGARIAN GENTLEMAN. — MB. SCULTATl's HOUSE.— 
 nUNGABIAN HOSPITALITY. 
 
 The day had dawned some time when we awoke 
 from our deep slumber, and seven o'clock struck 
 ere our coffee was swallowed, our bill paid, and 
 ourselves en route. Meanwhile, Mr. Barrington 
 was not forgetful of his engagement. He ar- 
 rived just as we were beginning to apprehend 
 that some call of duty might deprive us of the 
 pleasure of his company, and we set forth, all 
 three together, on foot. It struck me that the 
 tone of our companion's conversation was more 
 subdued to-day than it had been over-night ; 
 and that the idea of losing us so speedily caused 
 him to reflect with something like regret upon 
 the ■ isolated nature of his own position. I do 
 not know that I have any right so to express 
 myself, for he certainly uttered no complaint ; 
 but I felt at the moment, that the situation of 
 an. Englishman in a foreign service is scarcely 
 an enviable one ; and I fancied that my young 
 friend's thoughts were turned into a similar 
 channel. Be this, however, as it may, we did 
 
 \) 
 
18 
 
 ■WALK TO 
 
 not separate till after he had walked some long 
 miles beside us, and more than once expressed 
 a wish that it had been in his power to become 
 our companion throughout the whole of our 
 excursion. Poor fellow! I almost regretted, for 
 his own sake, that such an arrangement was 
 impossible. 
 
 Our point to-day was Kosztolan, a village 
 some six or eight leagues in advance of Mo- 
 dern, where report said, that there was an 
 inn ; not, indeed, so large or so comfortable 
 as that which we had just quitted, but suffici- 
 ently capacious to accommodate, for a single 
 night, travellers so little disposed to fall out 
 with trifles as ourselves. In order to reach it 
 we were directed to make, in the first instance, 
 for Tyrnau ; and to gain Tyrnau, it was neces- 
 sary to steer a good deal by the map ; for even 
 in this part of Hungary, so soon as you abandon 
 the great roads, you are entirely at the mercy 
 of your own genius for exploring. Of this, to 
 us an important truth, we weie indeed made 
 fully aware, when having reached a sort of 
 hamlet in the centre of an immense plain, we 
 found all traces of a path disappear. We 
 looked round in every direction, but there was 
 no object to direct us. Behind, indeed, were 
 the Carpatians, assuming, at each mile which 
 
 TYRNAU. 
 
 19 
 
 we compassed in our journey, a bolder and more 
 majestic character, still clothed to their brows 
 xvith luxuriant wood, and having their bases 
 covered by traces of cultivation ; but elsewhere 
 on the right, on the left, and in front, the 
 nature of the country was everywhere the same. 
 One enormous flat was before us, here and there 
 dotted, rather than enriched, with trees ; but, 
 except where these tiny groves intervened, 
 either waving with com, or giving support to a 
 rank natural pasturage. Of anything like a 
 town, or a village, or even a solitary dwellmg, 
 not a trace was discernible. It ^vas a huge ocean 
 of herbage, broken in upon, where its sameness 
 was disturbed at all, only by patches of fallow. 
 We drew forth our chart, and studied it 
 attentively, for the huge plain appeared de- 
 serted of human beings ; and had the case been 
 otherwise, we were well aware that between 
 them and us little oral communication could 
 pass. At the inns, we could always count on 
 finding somebody by whom German was both 
 spoken and understood; but among the pea- 
 sants, no way was to be made, except by him 
 who might be master of the Slavonian. The 
 result was, a determination to push forward, 
 pretty much at random. On, accordingly, we 
 ,vent,— the same, and still the same strange, 
 
20 
 
 A HUNGARIAN 
 
 VILLAGE. 
 
 21 
 
 novel, but certainly not wild country, around 
 us, — till arriving at a sort of dip which in the 
 extent of the prospect had previously escaped 
 observation, we found to our surprise that the 
 dwellings of men were not, after all, so distant 
 as we had supposed. There lay in the hollow 
 beneath, a village, built with more ai)pearance 
 of regularity, and regard to convenience, than 
 any which, since our departure from Presburg, 
 we had encountered. It was thoroughly ori- 
 ental in its character, to be sure; the houses 
 being mere huts, and each standing apart one 
 from the other; but the whole were arranged 
 in two long lines, so as to form a street, wide, 
 open, and very airy. A double row of trees 
 screened the fronts of these dwellings, which, 
 on nearer inspection, proved to be loaded with 
 fruit; and when we put forth our hands to 
 pluck a portion of it, no one thought of finding 
 fault with us. 
 
 The village, as seen from a distance, had 
 excited our liveliest admiration. Its appear- 
 ance was altogether that of some cluster of 
 fairy buildings, — so bright shone the walls, 
 under th^j rays of a mid-day sun, so picturesque 
 were the spiral roofs, so graceful the lean of the 
 branches over their thatched coverings. I 
 cannot say that it ceased to interest, even when 
 
 > 
 1 
 
 we approached it. We saw, indeed, that what- 
 ever of cleanliness belonged to it, appertained 
 only to the exterior of things ; for the open 
 doors made a sad disclosure of filth and squalor 
 within. The women and children, too, who 
 lounged about the sills, were dirty and half 
 naked, while throughout there was an air of 
 languor and listlessnes, such as bespoke a state 
 of social existence, very little raised above bar- 
 barism. Yet, either because it differed essen- 
 tially from everything of the sort which had 
 heretofore come under our observation, or that 
 objects which present themselves unawares to 
 our notice, act with proportionate power upon 
 the fancy, we did not traverse its long and 
 broad street without making repeated halts, 
 and expressing one to the other a lively sense 
 of admiration. The remainder of our walk as 
 far as Tyrnau was not rendered memorable by 
 the occurrence of any adventure worth re- 
 cording. Our route continued to lie across a 
 plain of amazing extent and inexhaustible fer- 
 tility, with the hills on our left, and the horizon 
 bounding the view in other directions. But I 
 cannot recollect that except once,— when a 
 solitary wayfarer passed us,— so much as a 
 labourer crossed our path throughout the whole 
 
22 
 
 TYRNAU. 
 
 START FOR KOSZTOLAN. 
 
 23 
 
 I » 
 
 of its duration. So scant and far separated is 
 the population of this country, to which nature, 
 in respect both of soil and climate, has been so 
 bountiful. At last, however, about two o'clock, 
 that is to say, after we had been more than six 
 hours on the march, the spires of Tyrnau uprose 
 in the distance. We made for them, not ill- 
 pleased at the prospect of a halt ; and in the 
 midst of a furious shower, — the outpourings of 
 a dense cloud which for some time previously 
 had been gathering over our heads, — we entered 
 the Green Tree, — a little inn in the suburbs, — 
 and ordered dinner. 
 
 We did not conceive that it was at all in- 
 cumbent upon us, to traverse the streets of 
 Tyrnau, under such rain as then was falling. 
 The town appeared to belong to the same class 
 with Modern ; for it was evidently of no great 
 extent, and was girdled in by walls and round 
 towers, and other relics of skill in a species of 
 fortification which has long since passed away. 
 Perhaps, too, the symptoms of vitality about 
 it, might be more numerous than those which 
 greeted us at our previous stage; for there 
 were several large buildings in the place, one 
 of which was described to us as a very wealthy 
 monastery; but it was evidently, like Modern, 
 
 a town falling to decay; and hence little likely 
 to repay the toil of a minute examination. 
 Besides, we could not afford a wetting, because 
 our whole stock of wearing apparel comprised 
 but a single change of habiliments. Accord- 
 ingly, having made good use of the water with 
 which our landlady supplied us, and otherwise 
 done the duties of the toilet, we sat down at 
 one of the tables in the public room till our 
 meal should be ready. It made its appearance 
 at length, and was disposed of with all the zeal 
 of which a large share of air and exercise is 
 the never-failing source. And then came the 
 questions, where lay our station for the night, 
 and by following what route might we hope to 
 reach it? Both were answered to our satisfac- 
 tion ; so having loitered on till the storm passed 
 away, we once more buckled up our knapsacks, 
 and taking leave of our civil landlady, pushed 
 on towards Kosztolan. 
 
 The fates had decreed that by us Kosztolan 
 should never be visited. After walking in the 
 direction pointed out, and compassing what 
 we believed to be at least half the space be- 
 tween us and our night's quarters, we were 
 met by three men, whose features sufficiently 
 testified to their Jewish origin ; and of whom 
 we demanded, in German, whether we were in 
 
24 
 
 LOSE OUR WAY. 
 
 the right way. To our extreme mortification 
 they assured us, that we were not. The road 
 from Tyrnau to Kosztolan ran in quite a diffe- 
 rent direction ; so different, indeed, that in 
 order to reach it, we must needs retrace our 
 steps to the very outskirts of the town which 
 we had quitted. Now when it is borne in 
 mind that our march liad already extended to 
 something like twenty miles, — that the day was 
 wearing on, — and the fields deep and heavy 
 with the late rain, it will scarcely be wondered 
 at if such an announcement should have affected 
 us the reverse of agreeably. We questioned our 
 informants closely, — tried all possible methods 
 of cheating them into a statement that the 
 footpath and the great road would terminate at 
 the same point, and yielded at last only from 
 a feeling that to yield was indispensable. 
 
 A retrograde movement is seldom an agree- 
 able one. Even when the party of pleasure is 
 over, and we are returning to our own homes, 
 objects appear to have become far less interest- 
 ing than they used to be ; and if this be the 
 case under ordinary circumstances, much more 
 perceptible is the feeling in such a case as ours. 
 The very miles appeared to lengthen as we 
 went. But we reached the suburbs of Tyrnau 
 at last, and making for the great road, which 
 
 
 RETURN TO TYRNAU. 
 
 25 
 
 we had previously been advised to shun, — ^we 
 began to traverse it at a rapid rate. Neither 
 was this acceleration of pace unnecessary, inas- 
 much as the shades of evening threatened to 
 close round us, and the church tower, which 
 was pointed out as that of Kosztolan, lay far 
 removed from us. By-and-by we gained a sort 
 of hamlet, — a collection of wretched mud huts, 
 thrown at random, as it were, by the wayside ; 
 and, finding there that four roads met, we 
 became entirely puzzled. To address ourselves 
 to any of the wild-looking people who stood at 
 the doors of their huts, and gazed upon us with 
 countenances in which surprise was strongly 
 depicted, appeared useless. We knew not one 
 word of their language, nor they one word of 
 ours ; but the name of the village, we ima- 
 gined, would probably be familiar to them, so 
 we pronounced it, and made such signs as we 
 flattered ourselves might be understood. We 
 were not mistaken. An old woman, poking 
 her head through an opening in the wall of one 
 of the huts, screamed out something which 
 would have been quite unintelligible, had she 
 not, at the same time, pointed towards a lane 
 on our left, and nodded, when we made a move- 
 ment as if to follow it. Thus reassured, we 
 recalled our lagging energies, and pushed on. 
 
 VOL. III. c 
 
26 
 
 HUNGARIAN GENTLEMAN. 
 
 27 
 
 OVERTAKEN BY A 
 
 We had not proceeded far, when there met 
 ns an open carriage, in which two gentlemen 
 were seated, — one elderly, mth a pair of huge 
 moustachios and a very soldier-like air; the 
 other young, apparently not more than two or 
 three-and-twenty, and of a singularly prepos- 
 sessing appearance. He wore a round blue 
 cloth jacket, embroidered with black lace, white 
 trousers, very loose, and a cloth ,cap, with a gold 
 tassel ; and he held the reins with exceeding 
 skill and elegance. They bowed to us as we 
 passed, and we returned their salutation without 
 ever supposing that more would come of it; 
 but we were mistaken. We might have gone 
 forward, perhaps, a couple of hundred yards, 
 when the step of some one in chase fell upon 
 our ears, and we heard a man's voice calling to 
 US. We stopped, turned round, and saw the 
 younger of the two gentlemen hurrying to- 
 wards us. 
 
 " I see that you are strangers," said he, in 
 French, " I have been a traveller on foot 
 myself. May I take the liberty of asking 
 whence you came, and whither you are going ?" 
 We told him, without hesitation, that we had 
 quitted Modern that morning ; and that it was 
 our intention to sleep at Kosztolan. " But," 
 continued I, "it seems to me either that we 
 
 have not been directed aright, or that Kosztolan 
 is much farther from Tyrnau than we were led 
 to believe." 
 
 " It is a great deal too far for you to reach, 
 with any comfort to yourselves, to-night," said 
 the stranger ; " and if you did reach it, you 
 would find there no adequate accommodation. 
 My house is close by, and I shall take it as a 
 particular favour if you will turn back with me 
 and be my guests, at all events till to-morrow." 
 We were too much struck by the unaifected 
 kindness with which this invitation was given, 
 and too well pleased with the opportunity which 
 it seemed to afford of becoming acquainted with 
 the domestic habits of the Hungarian gentry, 
 to be very persevering in the refusal with which, 
 for appearance's sake, we considered ourselves 
 bound, in the first instance, to meet it. But 
 had the contrary been the case, I am sure that 
 our resistance would have been overcome. The 
 young gentleman scouted the idea of our being 
 to him a source of the slightest inconvenience. 
 ^ My house is not very large," said he, " but 
 there is room enough in it for more than two 
 guests. You will find my mother and sister 
 there, both of whom generally live with me, 
 and my uncle likewise, whom you saw beside 
 me, and who, for the present, has given us the 
 
 C 2 
 
28 
 
 INVITED TO 
 
 HIS HOUSE. 
 
 2d 
 
 pleasure of his company. We will, therefore, 
 go back to the village, if you please, where the 
 carriage awaits us ; and I can only assure you, 
 that the longer you may find it convenient to 
 honour my roof by abiding under it, the better 
 
 pleased I shall be." 
 
 All this passed,— the invitation was given, 
 was pressed upon us, and accepted, without one 
 question having been put, either as to our 
 country, our condition, our lineage, or the 
 nature of the inducement which had led us to 
 travel in Hungary at all. It was not, indeed, 
 till the servant had been displaced to make 
 room for us, and we were seated, I beside our 
 youthful driver, and my son near his uncle, 
 that the slightest anxiety to be satisfied on 
 these heads was expressed. Then, indeed, the 
 elder of the two strangers ventured to demand 
 whether we were French ? and when we told 
 him, no, that we were English, it seemed to me 
 that the cordiality of both gathered an increase. 
 It soon came out, that they were great admirers 
 of the English constitution and English charac- 
 4;.er. Of the former, indeed, they spoke as 
 bearing a striking resemblance to their own, — 
 a mistake, as I have elsewhere explained, into 
 which almost all their countrymen run ; and 
 the latter they were so well-bred as to contrast 
 
 A 
 
 very favourably with what it pleased them to 
 describe as the insincerity and fanfaronnade of 
 our neighbours. Moreover it came out that 
 the younger of the two, in a pedestrian tour 
 which he made through Switzerland, had fallen 
 in with certain Englishmen, between whom and 
 himself a good deal of intimacy arose ; and 
 that a favourite dream in which he had ever 
 since delighted to indulge, included the possible 
 chance of his one day visiting England itself. 
 Where such a kindly feeling prevailed on one 
 side, and on the other the sense of obligation 
 was strong, there occurred no difficulty what- 
 ever in effecting a right understanding between 
 the parties. We became very animated in our 
 talk as we proceeded onwards; and when we 
 reached our destination, every feeling of re- 
 straint had been laid aside. 
 
 The gentleman whose guests we had thus 
 unexpectedly become, belonged to that class in 
 Hungarian society which corresponds, in re- 
 spect to rank, with our untitled aristocracy, — the 
 proprietors of estates which have descended to 
 them through many generations. He inhabited 
 a country-house, which, in point of size and the 
 general aspect of things in and around it, I can 
 compare to nothing so aptly as to the dwelling 
 of a Highland laird. It was a long-fronted, two- 
 
^^1 
 
 30 
 
 DWELLING OF AN 
 
 HUNGARLA.N GENTLEMAN. 
 
 31 
 
 storied white-walled chateau, having before it 
 a sort of court, or grass-plat ; round which ran 
 a gravelled drive, that was fenced off from the 
 road only by a hedge and paling. At the 
 bottom of this court, again, and at right angles 
 with the swing gate by which we entered, stood 
 a range of cottages, where dwelt the grooms, 
 and menials, and hangers-on upon the family; 
 while just across the road were stables, coach- 
 houses, sheds, barns, and a garden, well stocked 
 with fruit and vegetables. Of park, or pad- 
 dock, or grounds purely ornamental, there was, 
 however, no trace. Except where the green 
 court lay (and it was not wholly ornamental, 
 inasmuch as the draw-well stood exactly in the 
 centre of it,) every rood of land had been laid 
 under the plough. Up to the very walls of the 
 mansion, the corn crops were growing ; and in 
 the hamlet where we and our host first met, the 
 labourers or serfs by whom they were reared, 
 resided. ♦ 
 
 It was not, however, in the outward appear- 
 ance of things alone, that I traced a close 
 resemblance between the domicile of this Hun- 
 garian gentleman and that of the Highland laird, 
 — rather, perhaps, as he was half a century ago, 
 than as you now find him, except in rare cases. 
 The family of Mr. Scultati (for so my young 
 
 I 
 
 friend was called,) appeared of countless extent. 
 There was no end to the retainers, — ^men, wo- 
 men, and children, — ^who went to and fro beside 
 his hall-door, and thronged his kitchen. Eating 
 and drinking, moreover, appeared to be a work 
 which suffered small intermission; and the 
 viands, though coarse, perhaps, were most 
 abundant. Then, again, I saw one woman 
 arrive with several couples of fowls, another 
 with a basket of eggs, a third with a jar of 
 milk, a fourth with something else; and 1 
 learned that such were not so much the spon- 
 taneous offerings of a good will, as the feudal 
 perquisites, which the chief claimed, and the 
 cottar and small tenant paid. " It is thus," said 
 my kind host, " and thus only, that the hospi- 
 talities of such a household as mine could be 
 kept up. These things are brought to me 
 every day. What could I do with them, if I 
 did not feed the people whom you consider so 
 
 numerous ?" 
 
 I have ventured to describe these matters in 
 detail, because they belong essentially to what 
 may be called the manners of the country, and 
 because I am quite sure that in finding such 
 peculiarities brought forward by a stranger, no 
 man's individual feelings can suffer wrong. It 
 must not be expected that I shall use the 
 
 1 
 
32 
 
 HUNGARIAN 
 
 same freedom when speaking of the domestic 
 habits of those who were good enough to admit 
 me into their families. With respect to Mr. 
 Scultati's menage, for example, I shall have 
 done enough when I state, that it was in every 
 respect gentlemanlike and abundant, — that a 
 comfortable apartment was allotted to us, — that 
 we met the ladies first in the drawing-room, and 
 afterwards at supper, — and that the great desire 
 of all appeared to be, that we should feel our- 
 selves at home. Music, too, added its charms 
 to the pleasures of the evening ; for Madame 
 Scultati played well on the piano ; and she was 
 kind enough for our edification, to draw forth 
 some of the wild strains of her native land, 
 to which the younger members of the party 
 danced. Finally, we were not permitted to 
 retire till after repeated attempts had been 
 made to shake our determination of departing 
 on the morrow. But in this respect we were 
 obstinate. It was agreed, indeed, that we 
 should not go as we had originally proposed to 
 do, at day-break, because Freystadtl was well 
 worth seeing, and thither they would send us in 
 their carriage ; but as they saw that we were 
 not willing to be delayed longer, they with 
 perfect good breeding ceased to urge us. We 
 then retired to our chamber, and slept soundly. 
 
 HOSPITALITY. 
 
 33 
 
 We were up next morning about six, though 
 not till our young host, whose chamber lay 
 within ours, had himself been some time astir. 
 I know not whence it arose, but I had conceived 
 that the Hungarian method of breakfasting 
 would resemble our own, rather than that of 
 Germanv. When, therefore, our friend stood 
 by the bed-side to inquire what could be done 
 by him or his people to increase our comforts, I 
 unconsciously said something about the break- 
 fast hour, which caused him to smile. 
 
 « Oh ! I recollect," said he ; " you English- 
 men eat that meal together, and it is with you 
 a substantial one. I am afraid we should never 
 o'ct my mother to understand the former of 
 these arrangements, but in the latter it is very 
 easy to indulge you." And before I could stop 
 him, orders were given, to add to our coffee and 
 bread, both meat and butter. Now, this mark 
 of attention, if considered by itself, may appear 
 a trifle ; when taken in connexion with other 
 matters, it is more than a trifle. It shows that 
 in all the essentials of good breeding, a Hun- 
 garian gentleman falls not short of any member 
 of his class throughout Europe ; for I am bound 
 to add, that as far as my own experience goes, 
 ]Mr. Scultati is but a fair specimen of the order 
 to which he belongs. 
 
 c 3 
 
 
84 
 
 OUTHOUSES AND 
 
 STABLES. 
 
 35 
 
 
 We made a hearty meal on the viands that 
 were provided for us ; and the ladies being still 
 in their own apartments, we put ourselves under 
 the guidance of our host, and walked out. He 
 conducted us to the garden, in all the arrange- 
 ments of which, I found more and more to 
 remind me of what I have read in old books, 
 as characterizing similar establishments amid 
 the glens of my native country. The walks, 
 for example, overrun with long grass, could not 
 be approached at this early hour except at the 
 expense of wet feet. Everything, too, which a 
 garden can produce, was abundant, even to the 
 weeds ; but I looked in vain for the neatness 
 and order which distinguish those of our own 
 country-gentlemen, as that class now exists even 
 in the Scottish Highlands. In like manner, 
 the stables, though perfectly weather-proof, were 
 certainly not such as I had expected to find 
 attached to the house of a Hungarian cavalier. 
 For the Hungarian still retains this striking 
 mark of his oriental origin, that he is passion- 
 ately attached to his stud ; and that there is no 
 degree of economy which he will scruple to 
 practise, so long as he can appear, on fitting 
 occasions, well mounted and accoutred. Now 
 though Mr. Scultati's horses were good,— and 
 they stood there, six in number, each occupying 
 
 its own stall ;— the stable, and the yard before 
 it, were precisely such as to render it next to 
 impossible for the grooms to lead them forth to 
 their work unsoiled, both in coat and pastern. 
 The yard was ankle-deep in mud, and the stable 
 differed from the bullock-shed to which it 
 adjoined, only in this, that whereas the one had 
 no breaks or divisions in its extent, the other 
 was portioned off into stalls. 
 
 I have alluded elsewhere to the act of 1835, 
 which gave, or seemed to give, to the peasants 
 of Hungary, in the protection which it afforded 
 them against the caprices of their superiors, 
 something like political rights. I have dis- 
 cussed the effects of that enactment with many 
 gentlemen in Mr. Scultati's station, and I never 
 yet met with one who did not speak of it 
 as eminently mischievous. Perhaps this is no 
 more than we have a right to expect. Men, 
 even though disinclined to abuse power, are 
 seldom willing to part with it; and when it 
 is taken from them against their will, they 
 almost always anticipate results a thousand-fold 
 more serious than usually follow. I have been 
 told, for example, that one consequence of the 
 law of 1835 has been, to sow the seeds of 
 never-ending jealousy between the gentry and 
 the peasants. " It is quite impossible that we 
 
36 
 
 DISCONTENT OF THE 
 
 
 can Stop where we are," is the sort of language 
 to which I have listened scores of times. 
 » We have given these people certain privileges. 
 We have delivered them from the rule of their 
 natural superiors, that is to say, we have taken 
 away from their superiors the power of punish- 
 ment when it has been merited. Yet in all 
 essential respects, they continue to be exactly 
 what they were within the memory of man. 
 On my own lands, for example, I am all but 
 supreme. Nobody can oi>en an inn without 
 my license. Nobody can bring within the 
 limits of my territory a flask of wine, or any 
 other article not raised or manufsxctured there, 
 till I have sanctioned it. If I am reduced to 
 the dire necessity of selling my estate, my 
 people go with it, and any one of these pre- 
 suming to quit the demesne, except with the 
 sanction of the owner, is guilty of a crime. 
 But I may not now check the progress of any 
 irregularities among them, except by the slow 
 process of an appeal to a regular magistrate. Do 
 you think this is possible ? Do you suppose that 
 the nobles either can or will obey an edict in 
 itself so preposterous? We do not obey it. 
 We do punish in the fiice of the law, and some 
 of our people know, while they submit, that 
 we are acting illegally. Can this continue? 
 
 HUNGAUIAN LANDHOLDEKS. 
 
 37 
 
 'Si 
 
 Surely not. Depend upon it, that Hungary .s 
 on the eve of great changes, and what the con- 
 sequences may be, time only can determine 
 
 As often as this language has been held to 
 tne, I have smiled,-not because I think that 
 there is nothing in it, but because it bears so 
 close a resemblance to the predictions which, a 
 few years ago, were everywhere heard in our own 
 country, and of which not one has been, or is, i 
 trust, likely to be, fulfilled, that while listemng to 
 it in a foreign tongue, and standing on a foreign 
 soil I had some difficulty in persuading myselt 
 that T ^vas not in a dream. Whether the 
 results are to be the same in Hungary as m 
 En-land, I cannot pretend to guess; for where 
 all men anticipate evil, evil generally comes. 
 But it will, I think, be the fault of the Hun- 
 o-arians themselves, if any violent revolution 
 overtake them. They must go on in the work 
 of amelioration, slowly to be sure, but steadily. 
 Of the evils of the present system, there are few 
 .unono- them who seem not to be aware ; they 
 must meet these evils boldly, and their very 
 boldness will save them. Meanwhile, it is cei- 
 . tain that the feeling of insecurity, the dread of 
 some mighty crisis at hand, is universal. When 
 I took leave of my kind host, for example, we 
 exchanged cards ; that is to say, he wrote his 
 
^* 
 
 38 
 
 ANTICIPATIONS OF EVIL. 
 
 39 
 
 name — Coleman Scultati — on a slip of paper, 
 and gave it to me. 
 
 "What title shall I prefix," said I; "is it 
 Graff, or Baron, or what ?" 
 
 " Oh no," was the answer ; " plain Monsieur. 
 I am as yet a poor Hungarian eidelraan ; what 
 I may be a few years hence, heaven alone can 
 tell." 
 
 ^x 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 TIAN.— THE STATE OF SOCIETY. 
 FORSTBAN. 
 
 IX ws about eleven o'clock ^vhen Mr. Scultati's 
 carriage drove up to the door, and m spite of 
 our Iwed preference for .-alking we were 
 obi^ed to take our seats in it. "You must 
 t^ Freystadtl, let come wbat will." said our 
 host; "and as it lies out of the direct road 
 
 Pischtian, my conscience will not permit me to 
 
 consent to your visiting it on foot. Besides you 
 
 came here out of your way, to oW'ge nie ^ -d 
 
 I am bound at all events to set you right again. 
 
 There was no resisting such arguments, so we 
 
 jumped in, and the vehicle set forward. 
 
 A considerable portion of our morning s drive 
 
 carried us through Mr. Scultati's territory. It 
 
 was everywhere in the highest state of cultiva- 
 
 tion, and the crops were enormous ; but, as the 
 
 . owner had justly observed, while alluding to he 
 
 fertility of the soil overnight, of what value 
 
 can such crops be to him? There are no 
 
 markets in Hungary itself, to which the gram 
 

 40 
 
 THE HUNGARIAN 
 
 LANDOWNERS. 
 
 41 
 
 I 
 
 can be sent; and the restrictions imposed by 
 the government on foreign exportation are 
 terrible. And were the case otherwise, till the 
 roads are improved, and the navigation of the 
 Danube rendered much more commodious than 
 it is at present, all this exuberance of bounty 
 on nature's part, must be next to wasted. For, 
 except by way of Fiume, — a Croatian rather 
 than a Hungarian port, — there is no other com- 
 munication between Hungary and the sea, than 
 through that great river, of which the channel 
 is still encumbered with numerous shoals, and 
 the debouches, as I need hardly state, are in 
 the power of the masters of Constantinople. 
 The consequence is, that while their corn and 
 wine accumulate perpetually, and their flocks 
 increase, and their wool is abundant, the Hun- 
 garian landowners everywhere complain that 
 they are poor. On the other hand, the Hun- 
 garian landowners not only want for nothing, 
 but they possess all the necessaries, and many 
 of the luxuries of life in profusion. They have 
 meat of every sort, bread excellent, wine supe- 
 rior to any which I have tasted either in France 
 or elsewhere. Fruit is so abundant that it often 
 rots upon the trees ; and milk and butter, and 
 all else which the farm can ]>roditce, are in 
 excess. Still they have no money; and without 
 
 money, though they may live sumptuously at 
 home, they can neither stir beyond the lumts of 
 their respective provinces, nor even withm these 
 limits enjoy the pleasures of social life as they 
 are enjoyed elsewhere. Such, at least, is the 
 tone of 'their own conversation, as often as it 
 happens to turn upon the condition of their 
 country, and there is no disputing the point 
 ^vith them. , But though they may lack the 
 means of indulging it, there surely never lived 
 a race of persons more strongly imbued with 
 a taste for expense. I shall have occasion to 
 speak of them by-and-by, as they show them- 
 selves crowded together; and it will then be 
 seen, that their poverty, if it press at all. is 
 carefully concealed from the gaze of the world. 
 Fryestadtl is an open town, very prettily 
 situated on the left bank of the Waag, and 
 surmounted by the chateau and magnificent 
 grounds of the Grafinn or Countess Erdedi. 
 We crossed the river by a long wooden bridge, 
 at either extremity of whfch is a toll-house ; 
 but a^ we came in an eidelman's carriage, no 
 demand for toll was made ; that being exacted, 
 as I have elsewhere explained, from the peasants 
 only. This done, we turned sharp to the right, 
 and entering the grafinn's domain by a side 
 gate, took a hasty survey of its beauties. They 
 
II 
 
 42 
 
 THE COUNTESS ERDEDI. 
 
 FBEYSTADTI.. 
 
 43 
 
 were exceedingly striking. The house, — a 
 modern building, — stands on the slope of a hill, 
 the summit of which is crowned by the ruins 
 of an old castle, and the grounds about it re- 
 minded me more of an English park than any 
 which I had seen since my arrival at Hamburg. 
 Of the town, again, I can say but little. It 
 was very quiet, very neat, and of very moderate 
 extent, depending for its existence on the will 
 of the lords of the chateau, to whom, both in 
 its edifices and in the persons of its inhabitants, 
 it belongs. 
 
 The Countess Erdedi lives m great splen- 
 dour, and is said to be enormously rich ; but 
 she is not much countenanced, except by the 
 male portion of the community. The daughter 
 of a hackney-coachman in Vienna, she went, 
 when very young, upon the stage, where her 
 extreme beauty, rather than any great merit as 
 a performer, obtained for her a certain degree 
 of celebrity. She resided for some years with 
 the Count as his mistress, and in his old age he 
 married her. Moreover he bequeathed to her, 
 at his death, the whole of his possessions, in- 
 cluding the castle and estate of Freystadtl ; 
 subject, however, to one condition, — for if she 
 marry again, everything goes from her. But 
 the griifinn, as she was never very scrupulous 
 
 when poor, so she seems to have no idea that 
 scruples are at all necessary to her when rich. 
 She has not married, but she has taken mto 
 her family an Austrian colonel, with whom she 
 lives on the most intimate terms, and who 
 manages all her affairs for her, exactly as if he 
 were her husband. I had been told that we 
 needed but to show ourselves at the castle-gate, 
 in order to ensure an invitation for as long a 
 period as it might be agreeable to reside there, 
 —but I felt little disposition to avail myself ot 
 her hospitality. At the inn door, in the town, 
 we dismissed our carriage, and once more 
 resumed our progress, free men, and on foot. 
 
 Our point to-day was Pischtian, one of the 
 most fashionable watering-places in this part of 
 Hungary; and as it lay on the opposite side of 
 the Waag from Freystadtl, we recrossed the 
 bridc-e We had more leisure on this occasion 
 to look about us than had been afforded earlier 
 in the day. We saw that the Waag was a 
 broad and rapid stream ; that his waters were 
 whitish,-as if they had been mixed with milk; 
 that plantations of giant willows overhung his 
 banks ; and that from an island, divided by a 
 narrow channel from the lower part of the 
 town, a sori; of thin vapour or smoke was 
 ascending. We inquired into the cause of tins 
 
44 
 
 THE VALLEY 
 
 OF THE WAAG. 
 
 45 
 
 phenomenon, and found that the island in ques- 
 tion contains a hot spring. No pains, however, 
 have been taken to turn it to account, for hot 
 springs are frequent in this country; and, for 
 medicinal purposes, this is esteemed so inferior 
 to the baths of Pischtian that it has not been 
 judged worth while to lay out money upon it. 
 But the countess has caused a sort of reservoir 
 for the water to be dug ; and thither her own 
 people resort as often as the humour takes 
 them. 
 
 We did not linger long to inspect an object 
 in itself so little attractive ; but, turning to the 
 right, found ourselves upon an excellent road, 
 which, for a while, conducted us in a direction 
 parallel with the river. It introduced us like- 
 wise to scenery much more interesting than 
 any which had as yet come under our observa- 
 tion; and of which the features became, at 
 every mile that we compassed in advance, more 
 and more bold and striking. The great plain 
 of Hungary w^as now left behind, and we were 
 in the mouth of the valley of the Waag, — one 
 of those passes by which, here and there, 
 the Carpatian mountains are intersected. As 
 yet, indeed, the valley was both wide and fer- 
 tile. From range to range the expanse could 
 not measure less than twelve or fifteen miles ; 
 
 but the forms of the hills stood forth more dis- 
 tinctly andin bolder outline than heretofore, and 
 the farther we proceeded the more their alti- 
 tude increased. Moreover there were seen, on 
 almost every detached crag and cone, the ruins 
 of some baronial pile, the records of a time,— 
 not in this country long since passed away,— 
 when each separate chief held his own petty 
 court within the halls where his father had held 
 it, and armed men did his bidding, sometimes 
 against the supreme government itself. Then, 
 again, the magnificent river rolled his waters 
 along between banks that either waved with an 
 incafculable weight of corn, or spread forth a 
 rich green herbage, over which numerous flocks 
 and herds were roaming; and, which was 
 scarcely less interesting, the population appeared 
 to be more dense here than we had as yet seen 
 it. Towns and villages lay scattered over the 
 strath, homesteads from time to time saluted 
 us ; and the very bosom of the stream itself 
 supported, here and there, a cluster of floating 
 mills. I was beyond measure charmed with 
 the combination of beauty and grandeur in the 
 scenery with which our march to Pischtian 
 made us acquainted ; and formed anticipations 
 concerning the future, such as must have been, 
 in almost any other quarter of the world, 
 disappointed. 
 
46 
 
 PISCHTIAN. 
 
 PISCHTIAN. 
 
 47 
 
 i 
 
 
 We did not reach Pischtian till a late hour, 
 for a furious thunder-storm detained us; the 
 effects of which, though exceedingly delightful 
 to one sense, were not quite so acceptable to 
 another. The reverberations of the peals from 
 the nearest range of hills, were very line; 
 whereas the furious rain that attended them 
 proved, in spite of cloaks and the shelter of a 
 tree, much less agreeable. Thanks to Mr. Mack- 
 intosh's skill, however, we escaped better than 
 we had any right to expect ; and, so soon as 
 the storm abated a little, the march was re- 
 sumed. It continued till about seven in the 
 evening ; when a soldier whom we met, and 
 addressed in German, pointed out to us the 
 object of which we were in quest, and we made 
 at once towards it. I must acknowledge that 
 its general appearance both surprised and dis- 
 appointed me. Having learned from our kind 
 entertainers of the previous night, that Pisch- 
 tian was one of the most celebrated watering- 
 places in this part of Hungary, I naturally 
 expected to find a growing and airy town, with 
 shops, and marts, and the other accommodations 
 which even the occasional presence of a crowd 
 of fashionables elsewhere calls into being. In 
 all this I had entirely miscalculated the chances. 
 There were no shops, no marts, no airy 
 
 and well-kept streets, but a parcel of huts, 
 standing apart one from another, with their 
 mud-walls carefully white-washed, and their 
 conical roofs sheltered from the weather by 
 thatch. In the centre of the throng, however, 
 as if to cast its companions quite into the 
 shade, uprose a large inn. It was built of 
 brick, seemed to be three stories high, and 
 covered a great extent of ground ; and this, in 
 point of fact, was Pischtian. For thither all 
 the company, of all ages and both sexes, re- 
 paired, to eat and drink daily in the Great Hall ; 
 and here too, the more wealthy, or such as took 
 the lead because of their rank, had their apart- 
 ments. As for the rest, they hired, some an 
 entire hut, others a portion of a hut, and so 
 bestowed themselves pretty much as bees are 
 bestowed in a hive, without the slightest regard 
 to any other consideration than the securing as 
 much space as would permit them to spread out 
 their mattresses, and lie at length. ^ Altogether 
 the scene struck me as one of the most ludi- 
 crously singular which I had anywhere wit- 
 nessed, and a more intimate acquaintance with 
 the details of life within its influence, had not 
 the effect of diminishing my astonishment. 
 
 We entered the inn ; and, in spite of the 
 extreme humility of our style of travel, were 
 
48 
 
 PISCHTIAN. 
 
 PISCHTIAN. 
 
 49 
 
 ! 
 
 received by mine host with great urbanity. He 
 conducted us to an apartment ; not. perhaps, 
 the most sumptuous in the house, but one with 
 which, under all the circumstances, we had good 
 reason to be content. Then followed the cus- 
 tomary arrangements of the toilet, the comple- 
 tion of which found us quite ready for dinner; 
 at the close of which, and it did not last long, 
 we sallied forth to reconnoitre. 
 
 I have described the general appearance of 
 Pischtian as it strikes you when you first enter 
 the place. It must not, however, be supposed, 
 that there is no order in the arrangement of its 
 details. On the contrary, the huts are built in 
 two long streets, which cross one another about 
 the mid°dle ; and they all stand, like those of 
 Hungarian villages in general, each at an inter- 
 val of some yards from those on the right and 
 left of it. The streets themselves not being 
 either paved or macadamized, present, during a 
 rain, but an unsatisfactory prospect to the pede- 
 strian ; while, in dry weather, the dust rises on 
 every breeze that sweeps over them, to the 
 great detriment both of the eyes and lungs of 
 such as encounter it. But there is more to be 
 examined here than these very primitive tho- 
 roughfares. Adjoining the inn, and under the 
 management of the landlord, is a billiard-room. 
 
 a ball-room, with several smaller apartments in 
 which coffee and refreshments are served ; while 
 in rear of the suite is a sort of public garden, 
 the favourite resort of the company after sun- 
 set. It was well filled when we entered it, and 
 a bodv of musicians, who occupied a sort of 
 bower in one corner, loaded the air with very 
 
 sweet music. 
 
 There are not many points of resemblance 
 between the Hungarian and the German cha- 
 racters ; but in this respect they do approach 
 one another,— that the natives of both countries 
 are passionately fond of the sort of life which 
 people lead at watering-places. I think, in- 
 deed, that in his fondness for this, the Hungarian 
 goes beyond the German ; and I know that, to 
 enable him to sustain the expense of a few 
 weeks' sojourn in one of these temples of gaiety, 
 he frequently hoards up, without repining, the 
 whole of his pecuniary resources for months. 
 When he does set out, moreover, on his expe- 
 dition of pleasure, the Hungarian noble moves 
 like a prince. It is not with him as with a 
 votary of fashion from St. James's, who throws 
 himself into his chariot, and is whirled off, as 
 rapidly as post-horses can carry him, to Brighton, 
 or Lymington, or Cheltenham. The Hungarian 
 carries with him his own carriages, his own 
 VOL. III. ^ ^ 
 
50 
 
 MODE OF LIFE AT 
 
 HUNGARIAN WATERING-PLACES. 
 
 51 
 
 horses, his own servants, his own beds and bed- 
 ding, a retinue of servants as numerous as his 
 circumstances will allow, and a great variety of 
 his most picturesque and becoming dresses. If, 
 indeed, he have far to travel, he transports, in 
 addition to all these, his own cooking utensils, 
 and he invariably trusts, wherever he may 
 halt by the w^ay, to his own cook, for the 
 preparation of his viands. Nor would it be 
 fair to set dow^n all this business of prepara- 
 tion to the score either of vanity or misplaced 
 pride. The inns are, for the most part, so 
 wretched in Hungary, that means of accom- 
 modating a noble family are often w^anting; 
 and, where these chance to be sufficient, the 
 filth is such that a lady cannot encounter it. 
 Then, again, the watering-places being, like 
 that at Pischtian, in nine cases out of ten, mere 
 villages, it would be impossible for the company 
 to lodge themselves at all, were they forced to 
 rely upon such conveniences as the peasant 
 landlords could supply. For, strange as it may 
 appear, it is neverthless true, that attempts to 
 improve the style of the ordinary habitations in 
 such places, are very rarely made. The eidel- 
 man on whose property the bath may be, erects 
 one large inn, which he furnishes according to 
 the tastes of the time and country. This he 
 
 lets out, at an extravagant rent, to a tenant; 
 but with the dwellings of his serfs he considers 
 it unnecessary to meddle, and the serfs them- 
 selves do not dream of taking upon themselves 
 so serious a responsibility. The consequence 
 is, that, caring very little for appearances, and 
 trusting to their owni stores for so much of 
 comfort as they may require, strangers from a 
 distance hire these huts, wholly or in portions ; 
 and as they live all day long either in the saal 
 of the inn, or in the open air, or over the bil- 
 liard-table, they are content to be as much 
 straitened at night as the crowded condition of 
 the place may render necessary. 
 
 If I were gravely asked how people spend 
 their time at such places at Pischtian, I should 
 be compelled to answer that I really do not 
 know. They walk, they ride, they drive, they 
 dine at one, and sup at nine o'clock ; they have 
 balls occasionally, music without intermission, 
 and games, both of chance and skill, for such 
 as relish them. Then there are the baths to 
 be taken, the waters to be drunk, and the other 
 points to be attended to, for which the orders 
 of a medical man, or the tyranny of fashion, 
 furnish a sufficient w^arrant. I have been told, 
 to be sure, perhaps on too good authority, that 
 these Avatering-places are not always noted for 
 
 D 2 
 
lif \ 
 
 )! 
 
 f^l I! 
 
 II ) 
 
 52 
 
 HUNGARIAN WATERING-PLACES. 
 
 the correct beliaviour of their visitants. It 
 may be so ; and doubtless if the tastes of the 
 Hungarians tend to vice, better opportunities 
 than are there supplied of doing outrage to the 
 dictates of moral obligation cannot be ima- 
 gined. But vice, however fashionable, is not 
 universally practised anywhere ; and to him 
 Avho seeks not such means to relieve the 
 tedium attaching to it, I can conceive no 
 mode of life so wearisome, after the first blush 
 of novelty has passed away, as that of the 
 sojourner at a Hungarian bath. For myself 
 I honestly declare, that though delighted at first 
 ^vith the glitter and bustle that was around 
 me ; though pleased with the varied costumes 
 of the visiters, charmed with the animation of 
 the crowded supper-table, and infected with 
 the gaiety which seemed to pervade the throng, 
 when jostling one another in the ball-room, or 
 gliding through the alleys of the public garden, 
 I became, ere long, so heartily tired of the 
 whole matter, that I made up my mind to pass 
 onwards as soon as possible. We delayed two 
 whole days, and a portion of a third, in this 
 abode of the merry; we then paid our bill, 
 strapped our knapsacks on our shoulders, and 
 went forth in search of other, and, according to 
 our view, more rational sources of enjoyment. 
 
 
 VALLEY OF THE WAAG. 
 
 53 
 
 Our journey lay through a continuation of 
 the same sort of scenery which had delighted 
 us so much when approaching Pischtian. The 
 further we proceeded, too, the narrower the 
 strath became, and the more striking were the 
 mountains which hemmed it in, both from their 
 formations and adjuncts. It seemed as if we 
 were about to enter the very land of romance, 
 for ruined castles accumulated upon us at every 
 step, and the situation of each appeared more 
 imposing than that of another. Forests, also, 
 spread themselves over the summits of the hills, 
 the bases of which were clothed with vine- 
 yards ; while the Waag held his course, rapidly 
 and with great breadth,— now winding beneath 
 one or other of the mountain ranges,— now 
 bisecting the plain. It was, in truth, a glorious 
 landscape, combining all that can be conceived 
 diort of the sublime, which is requisite to com- 
 plete one of nature's fairest pictures. And 
 seldom has it been gazed upon by wanderers 
 better disposed to be affected by the influences 
 Avhich such scenery is doubtless designed to 
 exercise. But we were, by-and-by, made to 
 . feel that highland districts, however much in 
 other respects to be admired, are seldom fa- 
 voured with the steadiness of climate which 
 sheds its influence over the champaign. About 
 

 NEUSTADTL. 
 
 LAW OF PROPERTY. 
 
 55 
 
 ten o'clock a thick drizzle came on, which gra- 
 dually merged into heavy rain ; so that when we 
 reached Neustadtl, wliich occurred at noon, we 
 were very glad to find ourselves under the shel- 
 ter of a roof. 
 
 Neustadtl is a town, containing perhaps 
 twelve or fifteen hundred inhabitants, with two 
 places of worship, — a Roman Catholic and a 
 Reformed. It is governed, under the noble on 
 whose land it is built, by a stadtrichter ; a spe- 
 cies of functionary, who owes his appointment 
 to the lord of the soil, and is often, like the 
 people over whom he presides, a mere serf. 
 His authority in the place is, indeed, pretty 
 absolute; for he can decide disputes, punish 
 minor delinquents on the spot, and arrest sus- 
 picious characters ; yet he himself may be sold, 
 like any other of the lord's retainers, should it 
 be necessary to make such a sale of the lands 
 as the Hungarian law alone recognises. For it 
 is a remarkable fact that, in Hungary, estates 
 cannot, in strict propriety of speech, be sold at 
 all. A man may burden his lands \vitli' mort- 
 gages to any amount, and if he fail in ])aying 
 the interest, or satisfying others of the cre- 
 ditors' claims, the creditor may enter upon 
 possession. But neither in this case, nor in 
 the event of a special bargain, is the original 
 
 % 
 
 J, 
 
 \{ 
 
 
 I 
 
 
 * 
 
 owner supposed to forfeit, either for himself or 
 his heirs, the right of recovery. A stranger 
 purchases, in fact, but a thirty years' occupancy, 
 and no more ; at the expiration of which it is 
 competent for the former proprietor, if he be 
 alive,— or, in the event of his death, for his 
 nearest of kin, to commence proceedings of 
 retriever. But it is much easier to begm a 
 suit in Hungary, than to obtain a judgment. 
 The courts, which consist of the magistracy of 
 each county, afford the utmost imaginable 
 facilities to delay. They hear every statement 
 on both sides ; they pause long and often to 
 weigh their relative plausibility; they send back 
 the suitors again and again to amend their 
 pleas ; and when at length a decision is ob- 
 tained, the party defeated may apply for a new 
 trial, which is in no instance refused him. 
 Finally, when all the quirks of this first tribunal 
 are exhausted, an appeal lies elsewhere ; till 
 the case comes at last before the supreme court 
 in Pesth, where years may elapse ere it be 
 called on. The consequence is, that he who 
 has once disposed of his property, because he 
 ,,as unable otherwise to sustain his credit, 
 may, unless some extraordinary change in his 
 circumstances befall, relinquish all hope of ever 
 recovering it. His right may be admitted 
 
56 
 
 THE FORSTBAN. 
 
 THE FORSTBAN. 
 
 57 
 
 everywhere, ay, even in the courts before 
 which it is necessary to establish it. But the 
 sort of proof required is so strange, and the 
 process of deducing it so tedious and so expen- 
 sive, that more than tlie value of the property 
 at issue is sure to be expended in the prosecu- 
 tion of the claim. I was told of several suits 
 which had been pending for five-and-twenty 
 years, and nobody appeared to anticipate that 
 decisions would be obtained for five-and-twenty 
 years longer. 
 
 Among other matters to which the stadt- 
 richter is required to attend, there is one which 
 deserves especial notice, — I allude to the pro- 
 viding what is called the forstban, for such tra- 
 vellers as have a right to demand it. The 
 forstban is a privilege enjoyed by all nobles 
 and government functionaries, of impressing 
 the horses of the peasantry to drag them on 
 their journey ; which horses the stadt, or dorf- 
 richter, calls in according to a regularly-kept 
 roster, and for which the traveller pays at the 
 rate, per pair, of two florins, or four shillings, 
 for every station of ten English miles. Officers 
 of the army make free and constant use of this 
 privilege on all occasions; and to strangers, 
 like ourselves, who may apply for an order in 
 the proper quarter, it is very seldom refused. 
 
 
 Now, oppressive as, according to our notions of 
 things, such a custom may appear, I am not 
 sure" that I should be justified were I to speak 
 of it, at least in Carpatia, as being looked on 
 by the peasants in the light of a hardship. 
 During harvest they are, indeed, extremely un- 
 willing to leave their corn to the chances of 
 bad w"eather, while they transport some eidel- 
 man or officer, whom they do not know, a 
 couple of stages beyond their homes ; but at 
 other seasons, as their horses are numerous, 
 and they have nothing in the world to do with 
 them, even the poor remuneration of a florin 
 per mile is coveted. It is true that, let them 
 be as idle as they may, they never obey the sum- 
 mons promptly. Their cattle, if not engaged 
 in the fields, are always turned out to graze ; . 
 after the edict has gone forth, they must be 
 hunted down; and this proves to be a task 
 often of considerable difficulty where the pas- 
 turage includes a whole country side, and all 
 men°use it in common. But, independently of 
 this, a Hungarian peasant never moves as if he 
 were in a hurry. He will drive you, to be sure, 
 at any pace you please, provided you either 
 bribe or frighten him into a free use of the 
 lash ; and it is astonishing with what rapidity 
 his small but hardy ponies whisk you over the 
 
 D 3 
 
 i 
 
58 
 
 TRAVELLING 
 
 IN HUNGARY. 
 
 59 
 
 plains, where the roads are mere tracks. But 
 in making his preparations he is always slow, 
 and not unfrequently sullen and ill-humoured. 
 Poor fellow, he has not much reason to be 
 otherwise; for a more degraded specimen of 
 the human race is scarcely to be found in 
 Europe, unless it be in Russia and Russian 
 Poland. 
 
 Though we entered Hungary with the deter- 
 mination of accomplishing the greater part of 
 our tour on foot, we had not neglected to pro- 
 vide ourselves with the proper warrant by 
 means of which, if necessity should require, we 
 might take advantage of our privilege of nobi- 
 lity. As was natural, however, in persons who 
 felt themselves utter strangers in the land, we 
 experienced some reluctance at the idea of 
 taking a step, the consequences of which might, 
 for aught we knew to the contrary, prove in- 
 convenient; and though the continuance of the 
 rain induced us to discuss the propriety of this 
 measure, we had by no means made up our 
 minds on the subject when we entered the 
 town. Indeed we resolved, in the first instance, 
 seeing that it was by far too early to halt, rather 
 to make a bargain, if we could, with the inn- 
 keeper, and to get on a stage or two, by means 
 of the boueren post, — in other words, by the 
 
 help of horses and a carriage procured by private 
 contract. For it is not in Hungary as it is m 
 Germany, that even the regular posting is m 
 the hands of the government. You are free, 
 on the contrary, go where you will, to hire the 
 horses of private persons ; many of whom being 
 decayed eidelmen, earn, on the great roads at 
 least, a subsistence by letting them out. In 
 such cases, however, you are entirely at the 
 mercy of the natives; who are not, it must be 
 confessed, very scrupulous as to the demand 
 which they make upon you ; and to conciliate 
 whom, so soon as they have ascertained that 
 you are a foreigner, is, in nine cases out of ten, 
 a very hopeless undertaking. 
 
 With these projects in our heads, we picked 
 our steps, as well as we could, through a street 
 more than ankle-deep in mud; and having 
 reached the square, or market-place, made for 
 an inn, which was pointed out to us as the best 
 in the place. It was kept by a Jew,-a race 
 which appears to have pretty well monopolized 
 this species of trade in Hungary, and whose 
 influence, though not wantonly, or ostentatiously 
 displayed, is in all the departments of Hunga- 
 rian society, painfully felt. The Jews, in fact, 
 are in Hungary even more than anywhere else, 
 the sole capitalists within the realm. Money 
 
60 
 
 INFLUENCE OF 
 
 is their article of barter, and in doling it out, as 
 they do, to a needy race of landowners, they 
 reduce the borrower to a species of moral 
 slavery. Every body, high and low, rich and 
 poor, despises and hates the Jews. The 
 peasants themselves affect to look do^vn upon 
 them ; and before a noble they cringe to the 
 dust ; yet are they complete masters, in very 
 many instances, of the comforts, the fortunes, 
 I had almost said the lives, of the very men 
 who appear thus to keep the foot upon their 
 
 necks. 
 
 Among other privileges whiclf he possesses, 
 the Hungarian landowner enjoys the undis- 
 puted right of sovereignty within his own 
 domain. No one may open a public-house, 
 except by his permission, or carry across the 
 march-line of the estate, any fermented or 
 spirituous liquor. The inns are, in consequence, 
 his exclusive property; and he may, or may 
 not, according to his own free pleasure, autho- 
 rize the persons whom he receives into them 
 as tenants, either to distil spirits and make 
 wine, or to provide both, if necessary, from 
 some other quarter, and sell them to their 
 guests. The Hungarian peasants are, however, 
 o-reat drinkers of alcohol, and a licence to 
 accommodate them in this particular, is gene- 
 
 THE JEWS- 
 
 61 
 
 rally considered as a sure source of profit to 
 him who obtains it. 
 
 Accordingly, the Jew, when applied to for a 
 loan, invariably stipulates with the needy eidel- 
 man for the exclusive privilege of tenanting the 
 inns upon his estate, and of retailing wine and 
 spirits to his people. Once established, how- 
 ever, in the enjoyment of these rights, and he 
 holds both lord and vassal at his mercy. The 
 former dare not move, lest the loan, with diffi- 
 culty obtained, should be demanded back again ; 
 while the latter, a slave to his appetite, may be 
 either won to anything, or deterred from it, by 
 the promise of a dram, or the refusal even to 
 
 sell it. 
 
 So far the power of the Jew is felt, and so 
 far his privileges extend, but they go no further. 
 A Jew cannot, for example, become the avowed 
 owner of a rood of land. He may encumber 
 the noble's estate so entirely, that the produce 
 shall in fact become his own, or should the 
 produce be inadequate to cover the interests of 
 the loans, he may even force the debtor to sell 
 his lands, and himself take possession of the 
 purchase-money. But he may not, in his own 
 person, enter upon the occupation of these lands 
 and retain them. Let him, indeed, renounce his 
 religion, and this disability passes away. His 
 
62 
 
 A CONVERTED ISRAELITE. 
 
 reception of the sacrament of baptism, puts him 
 at once on a political level with other eidelmen ; 
 for it is curious enough that the descendants of 
 Abraham, though utterly despised, are in Hun- 
 gary treated as freemen. But so long as he 
 continues to reject that, and to profess the faith 
 of his fathers, the law has declared that the 
 Jew shall acquire no permanent stake in the 
 country. I remember, a few days later than 
 this at which in my narrative I am now arrived, 
 that there was pointed out to me a handsome 
 residence on the banks of the Waag, of which 
 for several years an Israelite had been in the 
 occupation. " How is this?" said I to my guide ; 
 «I understood that Jews could not become 
 landowners." " Nor can they," was the answer. 
 " The proprietor of that castle hesitated for a 
 while between his religion and his estate, but 
 the estate proved, in the end, the more enticing 
 of the two. Having kept it as long as he 
 could, without submitting to the hated ordeal, 
 he was forced at last to make his option ; and 
 though all the world knew that he believed not 
 one word of Christianity, he preferred receiving 
 baptism at the hands of the bishop, to rendering 
 up his possessions. He makes no secret still 
 of his total infidelity. Nevertheless, he has 
 gone through the necessary forms, and there he 
 
 A JEWISH INNKEEPER. 
 
 63 
 
 
 i8." It is fair to add, that instances of such 
 .rross hypocrisy are rare among the Hungarian 
 Israelites ; and that the individual in question 
 was as coldly looked upon by his brethren after 
 the flesh, as by the proud and fiery nobles 
 among whom he had established himself. 
 
 AVe entered the hotel, took our places beside 
 a table in the public room, dried ourselves beside 
 the fire, and ordered dinner. Our host never 
 for a moment appeared to doubt whether or not 
 we were entitled to be treated with respect. 
 The country people stared curiously at us, it is 
 true,— and muddy as we were, and otherwise 
 equipped for travel, I am not surprised that 
 they should have been at a loss how to deal 
 with us,— but Moses was more acute. He 
 received our directions as to the provend, 
 assured us that he would use his best exertions 
 to procure a carriage, and left us to ourselves. 
 We ate heartily, when, after an interval of two 
 hours, some soup and boiled meat were set 
 before us ; and then, seeing that the rain had 
 subsided, renewed our inquiries concerning a 
 vehicle. Nothing of the sort was to be had. 
 It was the beginning of harvest,— that is to 
 say, the peasants were getting in their hay,— and 
 no pecuniary oifer could induce any of them to 
 intermit the task for a moment. 
 
 i 
 
OUR TRAVELLING CARRIAGE. 
 
 65 
 
 64 
 
 OBTAIN A FORSTBAN. 
 
 The idea of halting where we were till the 
 morrow, more especially with the prospect of 
 having similar difficulties to contend against 
 when the morrow came, was not to be thought 
 of for a moment. I therefore made up my mind 
 to apply for a forstban; and having been directed 
 to the stadtrichter's residence, I explained to 
 him my wishes. They were promptly, and with 
 the best grace possible, attended to. A sort of 
 constable, or gendarme,— a personage arrayed 
 in a hussar uniform, who wore a huge sabre by 
 his side, and looked exceedingly fierce and self- 
 important, — was despatched to bring in the 
 necessary horses, while I returned to my place, 
 in the great room of the inn, there to smoke 
 my pipe, and exercise my patience, through- 
 out a greater lapse of time than was at all 
 agreeable. 
 
 A full hour expired ere the pandour (so the 
 gendarme is called) returned, bringing with him 
 a countryman, who reported that the horses 
 were feeding, and would be ready in a few 
 minutes. Where, however, was my carriage? 
 I had no carriage. I depended upon the 
 country to supply me with carriages as well as 
 horses. They must go and provide some sort 
 of vehicle also. There was, I thought, some- 
 thing like a disposition to murmur at this ; but 
 
 it led to no results, for the countryman departed 
 as he was desired, regretting only that he had 
 not been told how matters stood, in the first 
 instance, because in this case some valuable 
 time might have been saved. It came out, 
 moreover, in the ordinary course of events, that 
 I had reason to regret the circumstance like- 
 wise ; for, as it had required a whole hour to 
 get in the horses from the pasture, so another 
 was consumed in fitting up. the vehicle for our 
 accommodation. At last, however, the an- 
 nouncement was made, that all things were 
 ready, and we, having settled with our host, 
 sallied forth. But the apparatus which greeted 
 us, the sort of apology for a travelling equipage 
 which awaited our approach at the inn-door, I 
 shall not easily forget. The carriage was neither 
 more nor less than a small four-wheeled wagon, 
 made of rough boards, narrow at the bottom, 
 spreading out slightly towards the top, and 
 planted, not hung, upon its solid wooden axle- 
 trees. Over it was drawn, because the sky 
 appeared to lour, a canopy of coarse linen, 
 bent round three or four hoops, and so renderea 
 weather-tight; while a sort of arm-chair swung 
 in the midst, each extremity being fastened to 
 one of the wagon's sides, by thongs. Of the 
 
66 
 
 TREATMENT OF 
 
 THE PEASANTRY. 
 
 67 
 
 horses and harness, again, I need say no more, 
 than that the former could not have measured 
 twelve complete hands from hoof to shoulder, 
 and that the latter, consisting simply of pieces 
 of cord, not over-new, and very inadequately 
 fastened to the collars, threatened, on the first 
 severe pull, to give way, and thus to leave us 
 in the lurch, where it might be highly inconve- 
 nient so to be left. It would have puzzled a 
 heavier heart than that of my young companion 
 to restrain its mirth, when the wagon, with its 
 swinging seat, was exliibited as indicating more 
 than an ordinary desire on the part of the 
 authorities, to accommodate the travellers. I 
 plead guilty to the offence of having been sur- 
 prised into a hearty fit of laughing myself, in 
 which, however, I was glad to find that both 
 countryman and pandour joined me; and which 
 was not converted into any less agreeable exer- 
 cise to either, by the pieces of silver coin which 
 I gave them as drinkgelt. 
 
 Our knapsacks were soon deposited in the 
 bottom of the wagon, our arms arranged so 
 that we could lay hold of them in an instant ; 
 and we ourselves occupying the arm-chair, the 
 machine set forward. I had been told by per- 
 sons to whom travelling in Hungary was fami- 
 
 liar, that the only sure method of rendering it 
 both safe and expeditious, was to keep the 
 driver in a state of bodily fear. " Give him 
 the stick," was the advice which I received, 
 « and he will go like the wind. They are a 
 miserable and abject race, these peasants, and 
 everything like kindness would be wasted on 
 them." I had never yet fallen in with that 
 portion of my species on whom kindness was 
 wasted ; and I was not willing to believe that 
 even the half-naked and savage-looking creature 
 before me would form an exception to the 
 general rule. I determined, therefore, to try 
 whether or not he could be moved by hope as 
 well as fear ; so when we had cleared the town, 
 and were proceeding at a very dull rate along a 
 smooth road, I desired him to push on. The 
 word for this is Riva, which I repeated several 
 times. The fellow looked round disdainfully, 
 and said something which I could not under- 
 stand, but made no effort to hurry himself. 
 Upon this, I took out my purse, put a couple 
 of twenty kreutzer pieces into my hand, and 
 showed them to him, ejaculating once more the 
 word Riva, and I followed up the motion by 
 lifting a stick, and laying it gently across his 
 shoulders. The poor creature quite understood 
 
68 
 
 EFFECTS OF PERSUASION. 
 
 69 
 
 m • 
 
 me. He smiled a very knowing smile, and 
 setting up a halloo, and shaking his leathern 
 thong, away we went at the rate of seven or 
 eight miles an hour. I had no occasion to go 
 further with my persuasives ; the pace was kept 
 up, long after it seemed to me that the jaded 
 animals were capable of maintaining it. 
 
 11 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 TRENTSCniN.— Tin: RUINS. — TEPL A.— SCENE IN THE BAN- 
 QUETING ROOM. ILLOVA. BEISE. MR. DE BUTTS. 
 
 niS QUARTERS. SOBRI THE BANDIT. 
 
 The point which I was desirous of reaching for 
 the night 'was Tepla,— a watering-place still 
 more fashionable than Pischtian, and at that 
 moment filled, as our Jew landlord at Neustadtl 
 had assured me, with the best company from 
 all parts of Hungary. To accomplish this end, 
 we passed more rapidly than I could have 
 wished, through scenery which, in point of 
 beauty and interest, left all that we had yet 
 beheld in the shade. The valley, as we ascended 
 it, grew continually more and more narrow, — 
 the Waag, still broad, and though not limpid, 
 certainly not muddy, assumed more decidedly 
 than ever the character of a mountain-stream, 
 while the mountains themselves, either because 
 they came closer in upon us, or that their alti- 
 tude had much increased, struck us as being 
 bolder and grander than those of the morning. 
 Moreover, about seven o'clock Trentschin, w^ith 
 the remains of its glorious citadel, frowned on 
 
 \\\ 
 
70 
 
 THE CASTLE OF 
 
 TRENTSCHIN. 
 
 71 
 
 us, as we approached the bridge by which we 
 were to enter it. I have seen nothing like the 
 ruins of this noble castle anywhere ; and I shall 
 therefore take the liberty of describing them 
 
 more in detail. 
 
 Trentschin,— a fortification of very ancient 
 date, of which a large portion was unquestion- 
 ably built by the Romans,— stands at the foot 
 of an enormous rock, which, overhanging the 
 Waag at a point where the river well-nigh fills 
 up all that is level in the valley, effectually 
 blocks all passage to and fro, against such as 
 the occupants of this stronghold may refuse to 
 pass. The rock in question is entirely isolated, 
 —that is to say, it stands out from the rest of 
 the range, is not only not commanded by any 
 of the eminences near, but everywhere over- 
 looks them. Its height from the water's edge 
 may be from five to eight hundred feet. Round 
 its flat summit, walls and towers of enormous 
 thickness are drawn, and on the slope which 
 communicates with the town below, they are in 
 an extraordinary manner accumulated. But 
 time, the most certain of all innovators, has 
 waged successful war even upon them. They 
 are now but masses of ruins, prodigious even 
 in their decay, but still ruins, and likely so to 
 continue for ages. It seems, indeed, as if the 
 
 I 
 
 authorities were not yet willing to give over to 
 dissolution a pile which throughout so many 
 ages has withstood the strife of the elements ; 
 for that portion of the castle which looks down 
 upon the town, even now bears marks of being 
 inhabited. We observed as we passed, for 
 example, that the windows had iron bars in 
 them, and that some of them were even glazed. 
 But in all other quarters, the triumph of time 
 has been complete. The old square dungeon 
 stands in the centre of the pile, a monument of 
 broken strength. In the solid walls, frequent 
 breaches appear, the flanking towers have lost 
 their proportions, and in many instances are 
 bowed to the dust. As we beheld it that dav, 
 — with the sun throwing his beams upon it from 
 the far west, I thought that I had never looked 
 upon any memento of the labours of the mighty 
 dead, more striking. There was a sort of reve- 
 rential feeling upon me while I gazed up to- 
 wards its site, which the veriest accident might, 
 for aught I know to the contrary, have darkened 
 into superstition. 
 
 I was too much occupied in examining the 
 ruins of the castle, to pay much attention to 
 the town which it shelters. I saw, indeed, that 
 the general character of the one agreed well 
 with that of the other ; for Trentschin, in spite 
 
72 
 
 TRENTSCHIN. 
 
 of the mineral springs that surround it, is 
 falling rapidly into decay; but I had neither 
 leisu^-e nor inclination to examine it narrowly. 
 The day was closing fast, and unless we made 
 up our minds to halt here for the night, it was 
 necessary to push forward. But a halt just 
 then would have proved for many reasons, in- 
 convenient, and we resolved, after a moment's 
 hesitation, to avoid that inconvenience. I do 
 not know that I lost much by listening to the 
 whispers of prudence. Perhaps the view from 
 the summit of the rock might have delighted 
 us, and it is probable enough that, both there 
 and in the town, we might have discovered 
 some minute relics of the world's conquerors ; 
 but after all, would such discovery have brought 
 them in a more imposing light before us, than 
 the bold outline of their fortalice had already 
 cast round them? I am sure that it would not, 
 and tlierefore am I little disposed to lament 
 even now that the deep and holy impression 
 which was made upon me by contemplating 
 their works in a mass, was neither diminished 
 nor frittered away, even by a successful endea- 
 vour to trace them out in detail. 
 
 We continued our journey, having crossed 
 the Waag by the bridge already referred to, and 
 soon found ourselves in a new scene, of which 
 
 NOBLE RUIN. 
 
 73 
 
 I must not pause to speak in the terms w^hich it 
 merits. It was a rich fair strath, one neck of 
 which extended between Trentschin and the 
 hills opposite ; while, of the other, we could take 
 no further account, than that it seemed to lie at 
 a great distance. Between these extreme points, 
 again, the plain opened out into a sort of irre- 
 gular oval, the edges of which were skirted by 
 the mountains, while its centre was washed by 
 the river. Of that plain, the fertility seemed 
 to be prodigious. Corn, hay, buck-wlieat, pota- 
 toes, grain of every sort, and various kinds of 
 vegetables, overspread it; while the marks of 
 care bestowed in order to rear them, were 
 exceedingly slender. Moreover, there was 
 much fine timber, chiefly along the gorges of 
 the many glens which fell in upon it, — and the 
 mountains from about mid-height, were clothed 
 with it ; while along their bases, and stretching 
 towards the commencement of the forest, luxu- 
 riant vineyards were scattered. We saw, too, 
 nodding, as it w^ere, to Trentschin, another noble 
 ruin, — such a ruin as would have excited our 
 liveliest admiration, had not the greater and 
 more majestic pile engrossed all of wonder, 
 which on such subjects we had to bestow; 
 while beneath it, about a gun-shot from the 
 river's edge, stood a modern mansion, the resi- 
 
 VOL. III. E 
 
74 
 
 JOURNEY TO 
 
 TEPLA. 
 
 75 
 
 dence of the noble by whom the surrounding 
 district was owned. I say nothing of villages 
 or farm-houses. The latter do not exist any- 
 where out of England, and the former were 
 here scanty enough ; yet some there certainly 
 were, lying wide apart from one another, and 
 they added not a little to the beauty of the 
 panorama. 
 
 Through this glorious district we passed, 
 exceedingly grudging the departure of the light, 
 which became every minute more and more 
 scanty, till at last it sank into twilight. It was 
 in the obscurity that fills up the interval be- 
 tween night and day, that we found ourselves 
 at the mouth of a narrow glen, the road having 
 bent gradually away towards the right, till it 
 brought us quite beneath the mountains. Into 
 this glen our driver turned, and we ascertained 
 from his gestures, rather than from his words, 
 that Tepla lay at the far end of it. Nothing 
 could exceed the beauty of this portion of our 
 drive, even as we beheld it through the gloom. 
 A small but rapid stream washed the centre of 
 the ravine; the road ran parallel with and close 
 to its banks ; the whole breadth of the pass 
 could not exceed three or four hundred yards, 
 and on either hand it was hemmed in by low 
 but well- wooded hills. Not even the idea that 
 
 1 
 
 these woods might be the haunts of dangerous 
 neighbours, sufficed, for a moment, to interrupt 
 our enjoyment of the drive. We felt about, 
 indeed, in order to ascertain that our weapons 
 were within reach, and fit for service ; but we 
 did not cease, even while making this investi- 
 gation, to acknowledge the holy influence of the 
 scene around us. 
 
 For a full hour we continued to hold our 
 course by the side of the little stream, long be- 
 fore the termination of which even the gloam- 
 ing had departed; and we were made aware, 
 at last, of the vicinity of Tepla, by the glancing 
 of lights from the windows. We passed a 
 small bridge, halted for an instant at the further 
 extremity, to inquire the way to the inn, and 
 then drove into the heart of just such another 
 overgrown villaofe as Pischtian, with this dif- 
 ference, that Tepla is the larger of the two. 
 Even in the obscurity of night I could ascertain 
 that the houses were mere huts, built in the 
 most approved style of Hungarian architecture. 
 They seemed, indeed, to be planted more near 
 to each other than in Pischtian, and a sort of 
 covered market-place occupied the centre of 
 an area, round which many of them were 
 drawn; but their walls were manifestly con- 
 structed of mud, their roofs were thatched, and 
 
 E 2 
 
76 
 
 UNABLE TO 
 
 OBTAIN ACCOMMODATION. 
 
 77 
 
 tliere were none which in point of height ex- 
 ceeded one story. It was evident enough, how- 
 ever, from the amazing bustle which prevailed, 
 that be they commodious or the reverse, none of 
 them lacked for occupants. A crowd of people 
 was gathered together in the square, some 
 lounging about, some passing to and fro, some 
 gossiping in mere idleness, some hurrying as if 
 to execute a given task, while every door stood 
 open, and every door-way was partially filled by 
 one or more persons, curious to ascertain the 
 nature of the new arrival. Through this half- 
 busy throng we drove; till having reached a 
 house considerably larger than the others, over 
 the door of which a swinging sign was sus- 
 pended, we there stopped, and put the import- 
 ant question, "Can we be accommodated for 
 the night ?" 
 
 I had not ventured to hope for what might 
 deserve to be called good quarters, but I did 
 expect to find a place wherein to lay our heads. 
 I was quite mistaken in my anticipations. There 
 was not so much as a vacant bed in the house ; 
 but if we would return to the market-place, 
 and inquire at the New Hotel, we might per- 
 haps succeed in accomplishing our wishes. To 
 the market-place I accordingly hurried back on 
 foot, leaving the wagon and the knapsacks in 
 
 I 
 
 charge of my companion ; and a waiter acting 
 as my guide, soon found out the desired domi- 
 cile ; but my further researches led to no satis- 
 factory result. If I were to give twenty florins 
 for a room, it could not be furnished. Not the 
 hotels only, but all the houses in the place, 
 were full to overflowing; and more than one 
 distinguished family had been obliged to go 
 elsewhere, because they had neglected in time, 
 to bespeak their apartments. We were com- 
 pletely taken aback by this intelligence. The 
 weather was too unsettled for bivouacking, 
 and had it been ever so fine, a bivouac in the 
 streets of a fashionable watering-place is not 
 very desirable; while to pass on to another 
 stage would be, not merely to prolong our 
 night journey, but to cut ourselves off* from the 
 edification on which we had counted as likely 
 to arise out of a brief sojourn in Tepla. Mine 
 host, the landlord of both inns, saw the dilemma 
 in which we were placed, and made an effort to 
 set us free from it. We might have a portion 
 of his own room if we pleased. To be sure, 
 it was not very large ; and in addition to him- 
 self, there slept in it, his wife, his wife's mother, 
 four children, and two female servants; but 
 there was space, he believed, for two other 
 couches, and they should be got ready for us 
 
78 
 
 THE SPEISEN SAAL 
 
 immediately. I thanked the kind Hungarian 
 warmly for what was, in truth, a truly generous 
 offer ; but I could not bring myself to take 
 advantage of it. Visions of all sorts of horrors 
 rose into my mind ; and let me do justice to 
 myself, I was unwilling to run the risk of 
 shocking the delicacy of the ladies ; but of this 
 latter objection, when I urged it, my friend 
 made very light. "Don't say a word about 
 that," was the reply: "the women all go to 
 bed early, and rise early: they will be sound 
 asleep ere you think of lying down, and long 
 before you are awake, they will be up, and about 
 their daily business." I admitted the full force 
 of the argument, but was not swayed by it. 
 *' Then," continued mine host, " there is nothing 
 for it, but to provide you with a carriage, and 
 send you on to Illova. It is one post and a-half 
 distant from this ; but you may reach it soon 
 after midnight ; and as the hotel is large, there 
 can be no doubt of your finding accommodation 
 there." To this suggestion, I was forced, sorely 
 against my will, to assent ; so while the carriage 
 was preparing, we removed our knapsacks into 
 the hall, and adjourned to the Speisen Saal to 
 
 supper. 
 
 The Speisen Saal, or banqueting apartment, 
 attached to the New Hotel in Tepla, forms a 
 
 AT TEPLA. 
 
 79 
 
 distinct building by itself. It is erected in rear 
 of the house, and standing in a garden, amid 
 grove of trees, presented to our eyes at that 
 moment a very attractive object. From the 
 branches of these trees, a profusion of lamps 
 hung down, the rays emitted by whi^h guided 
 us to the door, and a baud of music, placed 
 somewhere in the shade, cheered us with sweet 
 sounds as we moved forward. And a very 
 lively and interesting spectacle it was, which 
 greeted us when we passed beneath the portal. 
 The hall was large, — it could not measure less 
 than sixty feet in length, by twenty or thii'ty 
 in width, — yet was it filled, at all its in- 
 numerable tables, by ladies and gentlemen. 
 Scores of lamps suspended from the ceiling, 
 with a rich glass chandelier in the midst, shed a 
 volume of light over the company, the whole of 
 whom were engaged in eating, drinking, talking, 
 laughing, and giving other evidence of a state 
 both of body and mind altogether at ease- 
 Then, again, the dresses of all were handsome, 
 —of some even brilliant. The ladies wore such 
 robes as we see in London, in Vienna, and in 
 Paris; but of the men, many were arrayed 
 in the picturesque costume of their country, 
 having their moustaches well curled, their vests 
 richly^embroidered, their short cloaks made of 
 
80^ 
 
 NIGHT JOURNEY 
 
 TO ILLOVA. 
 
 81 
 
 »' 
 
 velvet, and their swords handsomely mounted 
 and furnished. Officers, too, were there, in 
 their plain white uniforms, — gentlemanly look- 
 ing persons, and, as it seemed to me, in high 
 favour with the fair sex, whether because their 
 manners were more gentle, or their faces 
 smoother than those of the lay nobles, I cannot 
 pretend to say. On the whole, the spectacle 
 was as striking as anything of the sort to which 
 I recollect at any other time to have become a 
 witness ; and we were not sorry that the accus- 
 tomed tardiness of the Hungarian grooms gave 
 us ample time and leisure to enjoy it. 
 
 We seated ourselves at a table where there 
 happened to be some vacant places, and ordered 
 supper. It came, and was eaten to the notes 
 of the band, and amid the buzz of a ceaseless 
 
 and animated conversation. The dishes were 
 well dressed, the attendance was good, the dis- 
 play of plate would not have disgraced the 
 Schwan in Vienna, and the wine was excellent. 
 But the charge w^as that which surprised us 
 more than anything besides ; for it amounted 
 barely to eighteen pence. We paid it, won- 
 dering how such splendour could be provided 
 at such a cost per head, even in a place like 
 this ; and finding that the carriage was ready, 
 quitted the hall. A couple of hours' travel 
 
 conveyed us to Illova, where we found a large 
 inn empty of guests, of which the landlord 
 having been knocked up, beds were got ready, 
 and we slept, as on such occasions we generally 
 
 did, like tops. 
 
 We had been startled, when we first lay 
 down, with the sounds of angry voices below 
 stairs, which continued much longer than we 
 cared to listen for them, and ended, I do not 
 know when. On inquiring into the cause of 
 the tumult next morning, we ascertained that 
 such events were of almost nightly occurrence. 
 The peasants, as I have stated elsewhere, being^ 
 much addicted to drinking, hoard up their little 
 earnings carefully, till they have saved enough 
 to ensure a hearty carouse, and then they repair 
 to the gasthof. They swallow large doses of 
 alcohol, and their tempers, naturally choleric,, 
 becoming inflamed by the spirit, they brawl, 
 quarrel, and sometimes fight, over their cups.. 
 I could gather, however, from my informant's 
 tone, that fighting was more frequently threat- 
 ened than begun. The Hungarians generally, 
 high and low, are a fiery race; much addicted 
 to^'take offence, and fond of boasting; but 
 report belies them, if, when it comes to the 
 point, they be as ready to deal a blow as to 
 threaten one, except where they feel that thej 
 
 £ a 
 
'*f 
 
 82 
 
 WET WEATHER. 
 
 START FOR BIESE. 
 
 83 
 
 may deal it with impunity. So, at least, say 
 their rivals in many things, the officers which 
 the Austrian government quarters among them. 
 My own observation, on the other hand, brought 
 before me no evidences either for or against 
 this theory. I found them universally frank, 
 hospitable, and kind ; and if there was a little 
 of the Bobadil in the manners of individuals, I 
 did not conceive that it was either offensive or 
 out of place, in men, vibrating, as it were, be- 
 tween the extreme limits of modern civilization, 
 and the barbarism of the middle ages. 
 
 We rose next day later than was our wont, 
 having been fatigued by our overnight's vigil 
 and travelling. The rain fell in torrents, and 
 our prospects appeared sombre enough, for 
 Illova is a poor village, and to quit it, either on 
 foot or in an open wagon, in such weather, was 
 scarcely to be thought of. We inquired whe- 
 ther a britschka could be procured, or any other 
 vehicle w ith a covering ; but we were answered 
 in the negative. What could we do? We 
 gazed from the window upon an unceasing plash 
 of w^ater ; inquired as to the uses of an exten- 
 sive building opposite ; learned that it had been 
 a convent till the reign of Joseph II., by whom 
 it was suppressed, and that it is now the resi- 
 dence of a private person to whom the emperor 
 
 11 
 
 
 granted it. Next we turned our eyes upon 
 some stalls, beside which three women sat 
 cowering, that they might sell their cakes to the 
 passing peasants ;— and were positively thank- 
 ful when the retinue of a noble drove up on its 
 way to the baths at Tepla. It consisted of not 
 fewer than four carriages and a wagon; the 
 first of which, drawn by four horses, contained 
 the noble, his lady, and two children ; the se- 
 cond, some maidens and children more; the 
 third, Avhat seemed to be the upper servants of 
 the household ; while the fourth, as well as the 
 wagon, was loaded with mattresses, kettles, 
 pots, saucepans, and all the other requisites for 
 rendering a lodging-house habitable. But even 
 this source of amusement was soon withdrawn, 
 for the cavalcade rolled by, and we saw it no 
 more. There was no enduring such a state of 
 things beyond a given interval. We ordered a 
 forstban at last, and, about noon, setting wind 
 and weather at defiance, took the road to Biese. 
 The elements proved much more kind than 
 we could have anticipated, for we had suffered 
 but little inconvenience from the storm, when 
 the rain ceased, the mists cleared away, and 
 the noble landscape unrolled itself before us. 
 In all its principal features it resembled that 
 which we had passed on our progress to Tepla. 
 
*af 
 
 84 
 
 ARRIVAL AT BIESE. 
 
 LIEUTENANT DE BUTTS. 
 
 85 
 
 There was the same open and rich strath, the 
 same noble river, the same mountains growing 
 continually bolder; while the little towns of 
 Bellus, Vag Besztereze, and Predmir, each, as 
 we came to it in turn, offered some novelty 
 to rouse, if not to charm. At last our place of 
 destination was pointed out, when it stood on 
 the opposite bank of the Waag, and our wagon 
 having driven down to the water's edge, we 
 awaited there the return of the ferry-boat. It 
 came at length ; we were transported to the 
 further shore ; and about seven in the evening 
 had possessed ourselves of a chamber in a sorry 
 inn ; the best, however, of which Biese could 
 boast, though kept, like that at Neustadtl, by 
 one of the descendants of Jacob. 
 
 I have nothing but civility to record of 
 the Hungarian innkeepers. Their houses were 
 often filthy enough, and their accommodations 
 wretched; but in themselves I always found 
 them willing and anxious to meet the wishes of 
 their guests to the utmost extent of their means. 
 The first question on arrival naturally was, 
 " Whence come ye, and what is your business 
 here ?" But the answer, " We are English, 
 and travel merely for amusement," was in no 
 instance doubted. To-day, for example, our 
 host put the accustomed inquiry, and we met 
 
 i 
 t 
 
 it ; upon which he hastened to inform us, that 
 there was quartered in the town a countrjonan 
 of our own, who held rank as a lieutenant in 
 a regiment of Austrian cuirassiers. I lost no 
 time? so soon as our own toilet was completed, 
 in writing a note to this gentleman, and in 
 requesting that he would do us the favour to 
 be our guest at supper: and we were much 
 gratified, as on every account we had reason to 
 be, when he kindly accepted the invitation. 
 
 We found Mr. De Butts a scholar, a gentle- 
 man, a soldier, and a man of very extensive 
 information. He was well read in the litera- 
 ture both of his own country and of Germany ; 
 and he appeared to have taken great pains in 
 order to make himself acquainted with the 
 history and usages of the people among whom 
 he now lived. I obtained from him, in conse- 
 quence, a great many valuable hints, such as 
 were of infinite use to me in the prosecution of 
 my further inquiries ; and I always found that 
 the statements which he had made were cor- 
 rect to the letter. But it was not in reference 
 to the graver points of national usages and 
 manners alone, that his conversation proved to 
 me highly interesting. He knew the histories 
 of all the ruins far and near ; and could re- 
 peat many of the legends that were connected 
 
ii 
 
 86 
 
 VISIT HIM 
 
 IN HIS QUARTERS. 
 
 87 
 
 with them ; and for the tales that were current 
 touching gypsies, brigands, and other wild ani- 
 mals, his memory appeared to have become a 
 storehouse. I am not going to swell the 
 amount of these pages by retailing one-half of 
 the anecdotes to which I listened. But a spe- 
 cimen or two of the legends that refer both to 
 tlie olden time, and to days of more recent 
 date, may be given with advantage, inasmuch 
 as the habits of thinking among a people are 
 never more clearly set forth than in the tales 
 with which they delight to cheer the circle at 
 their own fire-sides. 
 
 Mr. De Butts having spent this evening 
 with us, insisted that we should breakfast with 
 him in the morning; and defer our journey 
 another day, in order to visit, in his company, 
 some objects that would reward us for the 
 exertion. We readily consented ; because our 
 business in penetrating into Hungary at all was 
 not that we might be able to boast of having 
 traversed it from end to end, but that we might 
 carry back with us, when we quitted it, some 
 knowledge of the country, of the people, and 
 of their modes of thinking and acting. Ac- 
 cordingly, about eight o'clock next morning, 
 we picked our steps through the mud of what 
 must, I presume, be called the streets, and 
 
 ■1 
 
 arrived at his quartei-s. Let me describe them ; 
 that our lieutenants of cavalry may compare 
 with their own style of home service, the sort 
 of life which is led, even in times of peace, by 
 a subaltern in one of the crack regiments under 
 the Austrian crown. 
 
 We found out Mr. De Butts' house by ob- 
 serving where a sentry kept post. It was a 
 thoroughly unassuming mansion, fronting the 
 sort of place, or square, which is to be found 
 in all Hungarian towns however small, and 
 stood, if I recollect light, two stories from 
 the ground. We entered beneath an arched 
 passage, and taking to the right, ascended a 
 flight of wooden stairs, and arrived at a landing- 
 place. Two or three troopers, in their stable- 
 dresses, were standing there, who, on our in- 
 quiring for their officer, directed us towards the 
 door of an apartment which we pushed open. 
 We found ourselves, on crossing the threshold, 
 in a large room, round the walls of which the 
 bridles, saddles, cuirasses, and helmets of eight 
 or ten soldiers were suspended. The beds, 
 rolled up, occupied the far corner, and the men 
 themselves were seated on benches, furbishing 
 up their accoutrements. " Which is Lieute- 
 nant De Butts' quarter?" said I. ." There, sir," 
 was the answer, while a corporal pointed to- 
 
88 
 
 QUARTERS. 
 
 89 
 
 THE LIEUTENANTS 
 
 wards another door. " If you want to see 
 him, you have only to knock ; for the morning 
 was rainy, and he has not yet come abroad." I 
 did knock, and our friend's ready invitation to 
 enter, replied to the signal. 
 
 We pushed open the door, and the officer, 
 in the retirement of his soldier-like home, was 
 before us. The room was small, uncarpeted, 
 and I might almost add, wholly unfurnished. 
 At one extremity was a rude bedstead, con- 
 structed of deals, whereon, as yet in his night 
 gear, reclined our countryman. He had treated 
 himself, in consequence of the rain which fell 
 at dawn, to the luxury of a long rest ; and he 
 made the most of his idle time by reading as 
 he lay. At the other extremity was a window, 
 a small and most inconvenient casement. 
 There was a chest of drawers, — his own pro- 
 perty, — against the wall; — a deal table, three 
 or four stools, a canteen, a portmanteau or two, 
 and a large chest. Such were the contents 
 of a room, of which the walls were barely 
 plastered, the roof unceiled, the wood-work 
 unpainted, and which could not boast even of 
 the convenience of a fire-place. But, as if to 
 make up for these rudenesses, the soldier's arms, 
 — in the best order for service, — lay all within 
 reach. Over his head hung his pistols ; — half a 
 
 t'l 
 
 dozen swords, of various shapes and value, were 
 tied up together in a bundle in the near corner; 
 while the weapon which did duty on occasions 
 of parade, was equipped with belt, sword-knot, 
 and slings. His helmet and cuirass, likewise, 
 had each its appointed place ; and boots, and 
 coat, and other articles of personal equipment, 
 were all so arranged as to be immediately 
 attainable even in the dark. In a word, my 
 friend's country billet reminded me of my own 
 quarters long ago, when, being attached to an 
 army in the immediate presence of the enemy, 
 I was fortunate enough to procure a quarter. 
 Everything about it savoured much more of 
 war than of peace ; of tlie habits of one who is 
 prepared, at any moment, to engage in mortal 
 strife, rather than of your carpet knight, who 
 fares delicately all day long, and sleeps, when 
 day is over, upon eider-down. 
 
 « You see how we rough it," said the soldier, 
 rising, and addressing himself to his most mili- 
 tary toilet. " Half my squad are in this house, 
 and all the horses stand in the stable. I like 
 to keep the men well together; for we can 
 never tell, in this wild region, how soon wo 
 may be called to act as a body." 
 
 " Indeed !" said I. " Are the people discon- 
 tented, or is it in consequence of the banditti, 
 
90 
 
 CONVERSATION WITH 
 
 MR. DE BUTTS. 
 
 91 
 
 of whom I heard something at Presburg, that 
 you are always on the alert ?" 
 
 " As to the banditti," replied he, " they are 
 often heard of, but rarely seen. Though we 
 certainly have had some strange fellows among 
 us, they never gave us the slightest trouble. 
 Neither, indeed, do we apprehend much from 
 the people. Contented they certainly are not 
 for they still think that the act of 1835 set 
 them free ; and the period is not very distant 
 since a large portion of this country was under 
 martial law. But all that is over now. When 
 a village becomes refractory, as it sometimes 
 does, the lord has only to report the circum- 
 stance at head-quarters, and down comes an 
 order to station a troop, or half a troop of horse 
 among the peasantry, who are compelled to 
 supply them with every thing which they re- 
 quire without receiving any compensation. It 
 is astonishing how soon people return to their 
 senses when fifty or sixty men and horses are 
 turned loose on them to live at free quartei^s." 
 
 " Why, then, are you so continually on the 
 
 qui Vive f " 
 
 " Because such are our instructions ; because 
 if there occur a fire, or any other general cala- 
 mity in the neighbourhood, we are expected to 
 hasten to the assistance of the sufferers ; and 
 
 4 
 
 because our vigilance is often put to the test by 
 the arrival of sudden routes. It is no uncom- 
 mon thing in our service that we are roused up 
 at midnight, and marched off, bag and baggage, 
 merely to effect some change of station." ^ 
 "And is it always so with you?" de- 
 
 manded I. 
 
 « Always as you now see it," was the answer ; 
 « except for two months in the autumn. Then 
 the regiment, which is at present scattered in 
 detachments through the villages, will concen- 
 trate ; and after having practised for a while by 
 itself, it will form brigade with another regi- 
 ment, and we shall manoeuvre together. At 
 other seasons, we shift for ourselves, each cap- 
 tain, each lieutenant, and indeed each officer, 
 having his division, more or less numerous 
 according to his rank ; for the maintenance of 
 discipline in which, as well as for its general 
 efficiency, he is responsible." 
 
 A good deal more of such conversation passed 
 between us, while Mr. De Butts was dressing; 
 but I need not refer to it now, because a better 
 opportunity will offer in the sequel. Rather let 
 me state, that so soon as his toilet was com- 
 pleted, we turned our attention to the affair of 
 breakfast ; and that it was prepared with all 
 the despatch, and something of the rudeness, 
 
92 
 
 EXCURSION TO 
 
 PREDMIR. 
 
 93 
 
 which mark the progress of a similar meal in 
 camp. Some coffee was put into a portable 
 biggin ; a lamp, w ith burning spirits of wine, 
 was placed under it, a few light cakes w^ere dis- 
 tributed, and our morning repast was before us. 
 We discussed it in five minutes, and then 
 sallied forth. 
 
 Our friend now suggested that w^e should 
 return to Predmir, where the head-quarters of 
 his troop were established, and dine there, at a 
 nice clean little inn, with himself and his bro- 
 ther officers. This done, it would be competent 
 for us, should the weather permit, to visit the 
 pass of Sullov, one of the most remarkable 
 things of the kind throughout the whole valley 
 of the Waag. We were, of course, at his dis- 
 posal, and he sent accordingly for a forstban, by 
 means of which wc might reach our post, w^hile 
 hc^ and a young cadet, who did duty with his 
 squad, performed their excursion on horseback. 
 Again was the ferry crossed, and again were we 
 taught how^ broad the line of distinction is be- 
 tween gentle and simple in this free country. 
 A body of peasants were charged toll for the 
 transport of their wagons, while on us and our 
 military escort, no demand was made. We did 
 not, it is true, take any unfair advantage of the 
 privilege, for it is customary among military 
 
 men, and especially among the English officers 
 in the Austrian service, to disregard it ; indeed 
 they are favourites everywhere with the keepers 
 of tolls and ferries, because they give them, in 
 the shape of donations, much more than custom 
 authorizes them to demand ; but the fact itself 
 was forced upon our observation, as w^ell as 
 others which had no tendency to make us in 
 love with the Hungarian institutions. A sharp 
 word from a man in uniform makes a Hungarian 
 peasant shrink into nothing. He cringes and 
 fiiwns like the veriest slave before an angry 
 master ; indeed, he seems incapable, such is the 
 force of long and continued oppression, of being 
 stirred out of the stupid indolence which is his 
 natural disposition, except by the force of fear. 
 We arrived at Predmir about noon, and pro- 
 ceeded at once to the hotel. Though kept like 
 that at Biese by a Jew, it really merited all 
 the praise which Mr. De Butts had bestow^ed 
 upon it ; it was clean and tidy, and did honour 
 to the domestic habits of the fair daughters of 
 Jacob, who waited upon us, and ministered to 
 our wants. Here we were joined by another 
 lieutenant and another cadet, and at one o'clock 
 our dinner was laid upon the table. It bore 
 little resemblance, certainly, to the mess, even 
 of a detachment in the English service. Yet 
 
94 
 
 SOBRI, THE 
 
 HUNGARIAN BANDIT. 
 
 95 
 
 was it a good meal, notwithstanding, and the 
 wine was excellent. But there is no sitting 
 late in this country, at least after dinner ; so m 
 an hour, or something less, the fragments were 
 cleared away. Then followed the pipe, without 
 which neither German nor Hungarian could 
 exist, and we were ready for our excursion. 
 
 " You asked me a question respecting ban- 
 ditti," said my companion, as we sat together 
 on the rough hay couch which filled up the 
 further extremity of the wagon. " Have you 
 ever heard of our Hungarian Robin Hood, 
 Sobri, with whose exploits all the empire rang 
 
 not long ago ?" 
 
 I answered in the affirmative, but added, as 
 the truth required, that my acquaintance with 
 the bandit's history was very vague. 
 
 "Well, then, if you please,.! will give you 
 an outline of the tradition which passes current 
 for fact all over the country; and the tale 
 will probably interest you the more, that it 
 represents the man himself, as in some sort a 
 brigand upon principle. There has never been 
 a time when Hungary could be said to be free 
 from banditti. The great extent of its plains, 
 its enormous forests, and the scantiness of the 
 population, all contribute to render conceal- 
 ment easy; and so destitute are our peasants 
 
 of the means of subsistence throughout the 
 slack season of the year, that they are often 
 driven, as a resource against starvation, to 
 plunder. Almost all the fellows whom you 
 see keeping pigs and cattle on the commons, 
 become robbers as soon as winter sets in, and 
 even now, I don't think that it would be pru- 
 dent in any person, not in uniform, to join him- 
 self to their company. But that has nothing 
 to do with my story. 
 
 " Sobri, who acted his part upon the stage 
 so recently as twelve months ago, was, as my 
 authorities declare, by birth a peasant. His 
 father, however, who had contrived to accu- 
 mulate some little property, was ambitious of 
 rearing him to the ministry in the Reformed 
 church ; and, after giving him as good a school 
 education as circumstances would allow, he 
 sent him to Pesth for the purpose of quali- 
 fying him for orders. But the more Sobri 
 studied, the deeper was the chagrin which 
 he experienced while contemplating his own 
 degraded state, and that of his family. It 
 is whispered, that the noble under whom they 
 lived was apt to stretch his power to the 
 utmost. But, however this may be, it is very 
 certain that Sobri went to college a bitter 
 enemy to the feudal institutions of his country, 
 
96 
 
 SOBRT, THE 
 
 and that lie soon began to inculcate his pecu- 
 liar views upon the young men with whom he 
 principally associated. 
 
 "From the utterance of complaints, these 
 young enthusiasts proceeded, by degrees, to 
 concert schemes of reform. They must rege- 
 nerate their country; and as it was vain to 
 think of operating on the patriotism of the 
 rich or the reasoning faculties of the poor, they 
 must appeal to the fears of the former class and 
 the gratitude of the latter. They would go 
 forth, and fight the battle of equal rights against 
 all who should resist them. And forth they 
 went, not to lift the standard of revolt and 
 to rally round it men imbued with the same 
 spirit which animated themselves, — for they 
 knew that such were rare in Hungary, where 
 the serf, hating his bondage, is yet incapable of 
 making any serious effort to break the chain, — 
 but to earn a livelihood for themselves by the 
 sword ; to rob the rich as often as an oppor- 
 tunity offered, and to minister, out of the abun- 
 dance which they might thus acquire, to the 
 necessities of the poor. In any other quarter 
 of civilized Europe, such a device must have 
 ended in the speedy destruction of the con- 
 trivers. In Hungary it fully answered its 
 purposes ; and its authors for some years prowled 
 
 HUNGARIAN BANDIT. 
 
 97 
 
 •I 
 
 about, at once the terror and the admiration of 
 the districts through which they roved. 
 
 " There is no end to the tales of Sobri's gal- 
 lantrv, Sobri's skill, Sobri's disinterestedness, 
 and Sobri's humanity. The women all assert, 
 that he was the handsomest man that ever was 
 seen; and his age was precisely w^hat it ought 
 always to be in a romantic brigand. When he 
 first took the field, he was about tw^o-and-twenty; 
 when he died, for he fell at last, he had not 
 completed his twenty-ninth year. His band, 
 likewise, w^as trusty, and obedient, and devoted. 
 It is represented as varying from about an hun- 
 dred and fifty to fifty men ; and like the band 
 of our own bold outlaw in Sherwood, it had the 
 faculty of ubiquity. People heard of Sobri's 
 followers having robbed some castle, or waylaid 
 some rich traveller, near Pesth ; and next day 
 some similar exploit was performed in the vici- 
 nity of Presburg. But it is time to enter into 
 
 detail. 
 
 "There was no class of society which lay 
 more open to Sobri's hostility than the Roman 
 Catholic clergy. The dignitaries, be it observed, 
 of the Romish church, in Hungary, are very 
 rich ; and a rich churchman was a nuigance not, 
 in the bandit's estimation, to be tolerated ; so 
 he made upon them incessant war, and invari- 
 
 VOL. III. ^ 
 
I i 
 
 i 
 
 98 
 
 SOBRI, THE 
 
 ably Mith equal address and good fortune. As 
 a specimen of his mode of levying contributions, 
 take the following. There was a certain wealthy 
 dean, resident not ixir from Graan, before the 
 door of whose house there one day stopped a 
 carriage, from which two gentlemen in military 
 attire descended, that they might claim from 
 him the rites of hospitality. One was a gene- 
 ral, the other his aide-de-camp, and both were on 
 their w^ay to Vienna ; and as the inns on that 
 road are very poor, they made no scruple about 
 breaking in upon the good dean's domestic 
 quiet. They were received, of course, with the 
 utmost urbanity, sumptuously entertained at 
 dinner, and urged to stay all night; but the 
 calls of duty w^ere urgent, and they must needs 
 go. The dean's conversation, however, had so 
 charmed the general, that he was very unwilling 
 to lose it ; so he proposed, as there was ample 
 room in the carriage, that the divine should 
 take a seat there, and accompany him and his 
 aide-de-camp as far as the dwelling of another 
 priest, between whom and the dean a strict 
 intimacy subsisted. Such a proposal was by 
 far too flattering not to be at once acceded to. 
 The dean placed himself beside the agreeable 
 general, and the carriage drove off. 
 
 " The country about Graan is, like other 
 
 I 
 
 HUNGARIAN BANDIT. 
 
 99 
 
 districts, very thinly peopled. There was, 
 therefore, no occasion to travel far ; indeed, at 
 the first wood which they encountered, the 
 carriage stopped ; and lo, the pretended general 
 cast aside his disguise. Throwing open an 
 outer garment, he exhibited a profusion of pis- 
 tols and daggers about his person, and then 
 coolly said, ' I am Sobri.' The dean trembled 
 from head to foot, and entreated that he might 
 be spared, on which the bandit laughed heartily, 
 while he replied, ' I entertain no design what- 
 ever against your life. If I had wished to kill 
 you, I should have done so at your own table. 
 But you are wallowing in wealth, while crowds 
 of better men are starving. You have probably 
 nothing about you at present which it would 
 be worth my while to accept ; but mark ! you 
 must have ready for me against this day month, 
 five thousand florins. See that you don't fail in 
 this, for I shall certainly call for it ; and if it 
 be not handed over to me, I will put you to 
 death, aye, though all the members of the legis- 
 lature should be beside you.' So saying, the 
 bandit coolly desired the dean to alight, and 
 when this was done, drove off. 
 
 « Sobri's words rang in the poor dean's ears 
 day and night. Now he determined to disre- 
 gard the injunction, and by extreme vigilance 
 
 F 2 
 
100 
 
 SOBRI, THE 
 
 to defeat the designs of the threatener ; now ho 
 remembered the many instances in wliich the 
 brigand had accomplished greater marvels, and 
 his courage failed him. At last he resolved to 
 adopt a middle course. His tenants were called 
 upon to pay up their arrears, heavy fines were 
 levied on defaulters, and a purse containing the 
 stipulated number of florins w^as laid up in his 
 escrutoire. At the same time, however, he was 
 resolute to save his money if he could. With 
 this view, he acquainted all his neighbours, both 
 far and near, with the strange adventure that 
 had befallen him, and expressing his belief that 
 Sobri would at least attempt to carry his threat 
 into execution, he invited them all to pass the 
 appointed day under his roof, where he made 
 ample preparations to entertain them. They 
 tame true to the season fixed upon, and as each 
 noble brought w^ith him a retinue of armed ser- 
 vants, the consumption of viands was prodi- 
 gious. At length the guests sat down to din- 
 ner, and the dean was already congratulated on 
 his escape from the violence which he had 
 apprehended, w^hen a carriage drove into the 
 court-yard. It contained a venerable bishop 
 with two of his chaplains, who being on their 
 ^vay to take possession of a diocese which had 
 been some time vacant, could not, of course, 
 
 ! -' 
 
 HUNGAKIAN BANDIT. 
 
 101 
 
 11 
 
 \i 
 
 think of passing the dean's gate, without paying 
 
 their respects. In an instant, the dean was at 
 
 the door of the carriage. He would never 
 
 recover the mortification, sliould his lordship 
 
 refuse to honour his poor dwelling with his 
 
 presence, more especially on such a day as that, 
 
 when all his neighbours were met together to 
 
 do him honour. The bishop hesitated; but 
 
 what could he do? It would have been cruel 
 
 to leave a brother churchman in sorrow; so, 
 
 attended by his chaplains, he alighted, and the 
 
 whole were ushered into the banqueting-room. 
 
 " The prelate was led, as a matter of course, 
 to the seat of honour ; and the feast went on, 
 not without many sharp cuts at Sobri's inso- 
 lence, and sneers at his lack of power to act as 
 lie had threatened. But the bishop could not 
 stay beyond a certain hour. He had far to 
 travel, and fearing lest he too might fall in with 
 this Sobri, he was anxious to reach his stage 
 ere daylight departed. Before he went, how- 
 ever, he would conmiunicate with the dean in 
 private, and give him his blessing. The dean 
 rose, the bishop's chaplains did the same ; and 
 the whole four withdrew into a chamber apart. 
 The result need hardly be stated. ' You see I 
 have kept my word,' said Sobri, opening his 
 
it 
 
 1 
 
 I I 
 
 102 
 
 SOBRT, THE 
 
 episcopal habit, and making a display of the 
 weapons that were under it. ' Now give me 
 the five thousand florins, or you are a dead man.' 
 The dean looked round. On each side of him 
 stood a chaplain, with a pistol in his hand, and 
 he saw that his case was desperate. 
 
 " * So far, so good,' observed Sobri, as he put 
 up the purse with its contents in his pocket ; 
 * but now you must be our safeguard beyond 
 the risk of i)ursuit. You shall apologize to 
 your company for putting me a mile upon my 
 w^ay: and take care that you do so naturally; 
 for if, either by accident or design, you lead 
 them to suspect that I am not what I appear 
 to be, you die on the instant.' The unhappy 
 dean had some difficulty in restraining the vio- 
 lence of his terror ; but the apparition of the 
 two chaplains, — one before, and the other be- 
 hind him, — as he paced through the hall, had 
 an astonishing effect upon his nerves, lie 
 made his apology, walked with the bishop to 
 his carriage, entered it in a state of mind which 
 the imagination must describe, and was carried 
 about a post from his house. Tliere Sobri re- 
 leased him ; and he returned to tell how faith- 
 fully the brigand's pledges had been redeemed, 
 and to impress those who listened to his story. 
 
 
 I 
 
 HUNGARIAN BANDIT. 
 
 103 
 
 with a strong conviction that some power more 
 irresistible than belongs to humanity had taken 
 the bandit under its care. 
 
 " Such ^^■as one tale, illustrative of the cool- 
 ness and talent of that remarkable brigand. 
 Another I may venture to give, as exhibitmg 
 both the sort of control which he was accus- 
 tomed to exercise over his own people, and the 
 degree of terror in which his name was held by 
 the constituted authorities. 
 
 " It happened, ohce upon a time, that a tra- 
 velling mechanic,"-[one of that class of per- 
 sons of whom I have elsewhere spoken, as tra- 
 versing Germany with their wares, and who 
 follow the same practice in Hungary,]- was 
 pounced upon while skirting a wood, and robbed 
 of all his little property. The men who plun- 
 dered him, took away likewise his pass-book,- 
 in other words, the certificate as to character 
 which he had received at the police-office, and 
 without exhibiting which, duly viseed from h.s 
 last station, he was liable, on entering a^y town 
 to be arrested and cast into prison. The loss 
 of his goods affected him very much, but the 
 loss of this document was even more senous. 
 The first might be replaced, the last could no ; 
 and he wept bitterly at the thought of the 
 probable consequences to his person and his 
 
; i 
 
 (M 
 
 104 
 
 SOBRI, THE 
 
 liberty. He was thus mourning his evil fate, 
 when a cavalier, well mounted and handsomely 
 dressed, met him. What was the matter? why 
 did he shed tears ? The poor fellow explained 
 the nature of his misfortune, and the cavalier 
 seemed affected by it. * Do you think that you 
 should know the men who robbed you, if you 
 w^ere to see them again?' demanded the stranger. 
 * I have no doubt of that fact,' was the reply. 
 ' Will you, then, come back with me? We will 
 try to discover them, and make them restore 
 your property.' The poor mechanic, who be- 
 lieved that he had seen quite enough of such 
 acquaintances, protested against the proposed 
 plan, and entreated his generous champion to 
 recollect the risks to which he would himself 
 be exposed, * Oh, never you mind all that,' 
 replied the cavalier, ' that is my concern, not 
 your's. Only come back with me, and I have 
 no doubt we shall recover your effects.' 
 
 " They turned back, accordingly, and the 
 stranger having been informed of the exact 
 spot where the robbery was perpetrated, stopped 
 there, and whistled thrice. Two men came 
 immediately from the thicket, whom the tra- 
 veller recognised as his tormentors. ' How 
 could you,' cried the stranger, 'so far forget 
 yourselves, as to rob a poor fellow like this ? 
 
 \ 
 
 5 
 
 HUNGARIAN BANDIT. 
 
 105 
 
 Are we become common thieves? sliall we take 
 from tbem who more require that we should 
 give?' He whistled again, and more people 
 arrived, whom he commanded to seize and flog 
 the perpetrators of the vile deed. This done, 
 l,e caused them to disgorge their ill-gotten 
 booty, and adding something considerable to it 
 from his own purse, he restored all, the pass- 
 book included, to the mechanic. 'Now go/ 
 said he, addressing himself to the astonished 
 traveller, 'go and tell wherever you arrive,, 
 how it is that Sobri deals with his men, when 
 they forget what is due to his orders, and then- 
 own character.' 
 
 "The astonished mechanic did not know 
 ^vhat to make of the extraordinary adventures 
 that had befallen him. He accepted Sobri's 
 bounty, and repaired, with a glad heart, to the 
 nearest town, where, in the exuberance of au- 
 overflowing spirit, he spoke, in the coffee-room 
 of the inn, concerning the occurrences of the, 
 day The authorities heard of it, and he was. 
 commanded to appear before them. ' You have 
 seen Sobri 1' was the substance of then- ad- 
 dress to him, ' and you will know him again ? 
 He is the terror of this neighbourhood. We 
 offer you a reward of an hundred ducats if you 
 will direct our officers where to find him.' 
 
 F 3 
 
 -I 
 
106 
 
 HUNGARIAN BANDIT. 
 
 107 
 
 SOBRI, THE 
 
 III 
 
 I 
 
 The poor fellow was taken all aback. One 
 hundred ducats would have been a fortune to 
 liim, but then he could not bear the thought of 
 betravinf^ his benefactor, and he told the magi- 
 strates that though he should certainly know 
 the brigand again, he was entirely ignorant of 
 his haunts. 
 
 « « That may or may not be,' answered they; 
 ' but we have certain information that he is at 
 this moment prowling about the town or its 
 outskirts, and if you refuse to assist us in ap- 
 prehending him, we will commit you to prison 
 as a participator in his crimes.' The magistrates 
 in Hungary have a strange notion of law and 
 justice, and these would have certainly kept 
 their word; but the youth, who knew this, 
 dissembled with them. ' Well, then, as I must 
 seek a home elsewhere, when this deed shall 
 have been done,' said he, ' you must make the 
 reward more than an hundred ducats.' They 
 did not object to this, and promised him one 
 
 hundred and fifty. 
 
 "From the presence of the authorities the 
 mechanic went forth, an alarmed and anxious 
 man. Instead of wandering through the streets, 
 he withdrew at once beyond the limits of the 
 town, and was walking on, the reverse of joy- 
 ously, when a person met him, whom he would 
 
 have passed. ' What !' demanded the stranger, 
 ' don't you know me? Have you already for- 
 gotten the cavalier who recovered for you your 
 
 property?' 
 
 « ' No ' replied the poor fellow, ' I knew you 
 the instant you appeared ; but I was willing to 
 make as if I knew you not, for there is a price 
 
 on your head.' 
 
 « ' I am aware of that,' answered Sobn, ' and 
 it is in order to obtain that price for you, that 
 I am here. Go back immediately to the autho- 
 rities ; tell them where you have seen me, and 
 say that I am sure to be in the same place at 
 the same hour to-morrow. You need not add 
 unless you please, that I shall come attended 
 by fifty of my men. Whether they give you 
 the reward or not, they will not venture to seek 
 me. Come you, however, and I will show you 
 that Sobri knows as well how to reward good 
 faith in a stranger, as how to punish bad faith 
 
 among his own people.' ,.■,-, ^ 
 
 " The mechanic did as he was desired, but 
 no portion of the hundred and fifty ducats were 
 handed over to him. It would be given to 
 hin, only when the ruffian should be secured ; 
 they could not throw away such a sum at a 
 venture. No attempt was, however, made to 
 establish his claim on their beneficence, for they 
 
 ^ 
 
 I • 
 
M 
 
 108 
 
 SOBRI, THE 
 
 HUNGARIAN BANDIT. 
 
 109 
 
 never ventured to court a meeting with the 
 robber chief. But the mechanic met him, and 
 received at his hands a purse containing a thou- 
 sand florins." 
 
 These are but two out of the many tales, 
 which both now and at other stages in our 
 wanderings, were told us of Sobri. He was 
 described by all who spoke of him, as a bold, 
 cool, and in some sort, a chivalrous man. Even 
 w^hen engaged in acts of violence, his urbanity 
 of manner never forsook him, and he became in 
 consequence, a prodigious favourite with the 
 fair sex. To one lady, whose house he robbed 
 in the absence of her husband, he returned all 
 the silver spoons, because she begged only for 
 the pap-spoon with which her infant was fed. 
 On another occasion, a little girl wept because 
 he had taken a gold watch which belonged 
 to her godmother, and he restored it. But 
 it was his policy, in sharing with the poor, 
 the plunder which he collected from the rich, 
 that obtained for him the unbounded love of 
 the peasants. Not only could they never be 
 persuaded, either by the promise of reward, or 
 the threat of punishment, to betray him ; but 
 he was regularly warned as often as danger 
 approached, and furnished with every facility to 
 evade it. Even now, it is uncertain what his 
 
 fate may have been. I believe, indeed, that he 
 was killed in a skirmish, some time in the 
 spring of 1837 ; when being overtaken by a 
 detachment of lancers, he turned to bay: -but 
 this is by no means certain, inasmuch, as the 
 sole evidence for the fact is, the statement of 
 one of his followers, by whom a body was 
 pointed out as his, after the affair had ended. 
 Now if there existed for him, as the head of the 
 band, the romantic attachment of which I heard 
 so much, why should not this man have purposely 
 deceived the troops, in order that pursuit might 
 slacken, and the hunted chief escape ? But how- 
 ever this may be, Sobri's horde has long been 
 broken up. Here and there, parties of four or 
 five are still heard of, as infesting the roads, 
 and roaming through the forests. But the 
 nucleus of the force, which was in its own 
 peculiar way to regenerate Hungary, has dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 ' ■, i 
 
>fi 
 
 110 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 OLEN OF SULLOV. — PROTESTANT POPULATION.— SILI^EIN. 
 
 FISII THE WAAG.— CASTLE OF BUDATIN.— MARCH UP 
 
 THE VALE.— OVAR CASTLE.— TORPINDA SETTLEMENT. 
 
 It was our business after quitting Predmir, to 
 visit the glen of Sullov ; and we accomplished 
 it. The scene was wild throughout; and at the 
 farther extremity, almost terrific. When you 
 first enter the defile, there is a considerable 
 breadth of level country, which grows, however, 
 at each step, more narrow ; till in the end, the 
 rocks appear to close round you, and the road 
 by which you have advanced, is all the space 
 not rugged and broken that remains. By-and- 
 by you find yourself walled in, as it were, by 
 precipices ; and you turn anxiously to the pea- 
 sant who has guided you, and demand whither 
 you are about to be conducted : for tliere seems 
 to be no outlet to the fissure. A bald, bare, 
 perpendicular crag is before you, and there the 
 very road appears to terminate. The guide is 
 prepared for your question, and smiles while he 
 conducts you round this granite buttress, and 
 
 ,.■■* 
 
 il 
 
 HUNGARIAN PBOTESTANTS. 
 
 Ill 
 
 shows you the same road sweeping into another 
 vale, at once more extensive and better peopled. 
 We were exceedingly delighted with the drive ; 
 and turned our backs upon the romantic spot 
 
 not without regret. 
 
 There are a good many Protestants scattered 
 through Hungary, and in these mountain dis- 
 tricts they abound. The vale of Sullov, for 
 example, is principally peopled by them, and 
 their presence is marked, both there and else- 
 where, by a more than common display of the 
 traces of industry around them. It is said, too, 
 that they are in general more moral than their 
 Romish neighbours, and it is certain, that they 
 are better educated; indeed, education among 
 the Catholic portion of the Hungarian peasantry 
 is entirely neglected. But I am bound to add,^ 
 that from the Catholics, though the dominant [ 
 party in the state, the Protestants receive no ^ 
 annoyance. The most perfect harmony, on the 
 contrary, prevails ; for no ])erson considers it 
 necessary to fall out with his neighbours because 
 of differences in their creed ; and the very clergy 
 of the rival churches, exercise all the rites of 
 hospitality one towards another. As I shall 
 have occasion to revert to this subject by-and- 
 by, when it will fall in more naturally with the 
 order of my journal, I must for the present 
 
Ill 
 
 I 
 
 
 112 
 
 SILLEIN 
 
 content myself with remarking, that the spirit 
 of tolerance is more conspicuous among the 
 Romanists, than among their rivals. I nexer 
 heard a Catholic speak ^>ith a sneer of the 
 faith of the Protestants— I never heard a 
 Protestant speak otherwise than contemptu- 
 ously of the ignorance and superstition of his 
 Catholic neighbour. 
 
 From the vale of Sullov we passed to SiUeni, 
 about ten miles nearer than Beise to the source 
 of the Waag, and twice as much in advance of 
 Predmir. Mr. De Butts was still our com- 
 panion ; and the quarters which he found for us, 
 though not much to be commended on the score 
 of cleanliness, were as comfortable as the place 
 could afford ; for it would be hard to imagme a 
 picture of more perfect desolation than this 
 miserable town presented. Like others which 
 Ave had passed, it had walls and gates; the former 
 in ruins, the latter torn from their hinges ; while 
 the streets and square offered no inappropriate 
 representation of a place over which the tide of 
 Avar has recently swept. The very houses were 
 many of them crumbling to decay. On the other 
 hand, the situation was magnificent. The nearer 
 Ave approached to the frontier of Galicia, the 
 bolder and more majestic grew the mountains, 
 v-hile the valley, though it had not for some time 
 
 THE WAAG. 
 
 113 
 
 narrowed in any perceptible degree, was mani- 
 festly drawing to a close. And then the Waag ; 
 
 ^he was a fine river when we first made his 
 
 acquaintance ; broad, yet not sluggish, and dis- 
 coloured in his waters, only because of the 
 deposit which came to him from the fertile 
 lands through which he flowed. But now his 
 character was that of a highland stream of the 
 most majestic class. Without having lost any :^ j^^^,^^ 
 thing of his width, he swept past Sillein, over b.^ 
 bed of gravel ; brawling and noisy as the ear 
 of the poet could desire, with just such pools 
 and streams and rapids, as the angler loves to 
 see, and the best and largest fish delight to 
 
 frequent. 
 
 We slept well, after an indifferent supper ; and 
 starting betimes on the morrow, took counsel 
 with our countryman as to the route which it 
 might be judicious to follow, and the objects 
 which it especially behoved us to visit. From a 
 variety of sources, and by many different means, 
 we had gathered, as we came along, that our 
 passport not being so expressed as to sanction 
 the proposed visit to Cracow, there was slender 
 probability of our being able to reach that point. 
 For the citizens of Cracow had exhibited symp- 
 toms of uneasiness of late, and there were three 
 foreign armies, a Russian, a Prussian, and an 
 
114 
 
 ABANDON OUR DESIGN 
 
 Austrian, gathered round the place, with a view 
 to preserve tranquillity. Now as it forms part 
 of the tranquillizing system on which the great 
 powers uniformly act, that a city or province 
 suspected of entertaining liberal views, shall as 
 much as possible be guarded from an influx of 
 strangers, any attempt to penetrate through the 
 line of demarcation which they may have drawn, 
 devoid of a passport, or in defiance of established 
 regulations, is not only an act of folly, for which 
 no excuse can atone, but may be attended with 
 very disagreeable consequences. This is a rule 
 which holds good in all cases, but in reference 
 to the question now under consideration, it was 
 doubly binding, because Cracow laboured under 
 disadvantages even more palpable, than affect 
 the condition of other northern towns which 
 may be charged with liberalism. In the first 
 place, it was known to have been the resort of 
 many fugitives from Warsaw, an offence which 
 the Czar could not possibly forgive. In the 
 next place, plots were understood to have been 
 concocted within its walls, for the restoration 
 of Poland to its place among the nations of 
 Europe ; and last, though not least, each of the 
 powers which observed it, looked with an eye 
 of as much suspicion upon the other two, as 
 upon the delinquent republic itself Hence a 
 
 OF VISITING CRACOW. 
 
 115 
 
 passport granted by one would have availed little, 
 provided the counter-signatures of the other 
 two were wanting : for Russia, though ready to 
 overthrow the liberties of the republic, was not 
 willing that it should pass under the dominion 
 of Austria ; Austria was as little disposed to 
 acquiesce in its absorption by Russia; and 
 Prussia would by no means consent, that either 
 Austria or Russia should obtain by its occupa- 
 tion, so large and valuable an addition to its 
 already overgrown territories. 
 
 Having well considered this matter, we came, 
 though reluctantly, to the conclusion, that it 
 would be judicious not to persevere in the 
 design of visiting Cracow. We had learned, 
 fron^ our experience of the Austrian police 
 elsewhere, that neither by reasoning nor en- 
 treating are they to be moulded to a traveller's 
 purposes ; and we could not hope to find them 
 more pliable in Galicia than they had shown 
 themselves either in Moravia or Bohemia. 
 Besides, what was there to be seen in Cracow ? 
 The exterior of things, doubtless ;— the streets, 
 and squares, and churches,— but nothing from 
 which any idea might be- formed either of the 
 state of society in the town, or the system of 
 education pursued in the university. For at 
 this time the class-rooms were all shut up ; of 
 
116 
 
 ABANDON OUR DESIGN 
 
 the professors some had gone into banishment, 
 many of the students were under arrest, and 
 the strong arm of power caused its weight to 
 be felt even in the domestic circles. Under 
 all these circumstances we judged it more 
 prudent to relinquish our purpose voluntarily, 
 than to run the risk of finding ourselves turned 
 back from the gates of Cracow, or possibly 
 treated there as spies and political adventurers. 
 Our determination, though a wise one, 
 brought this evil consequence along with it, 
 that our whole plan of campaign was deranged, 
 and, at a moment's notice, the necessity was 
 imposed upon us of devising another. An 
 accident, if I may so express myself, settled for 
 us a question which might have otherwise per- 
 plexed us greatly, and resulted in disappoint- 
 ment. We Avere strongly advised not to pass 
 the Hungarian frontier. Throughout Galicia, 
 we were assured, that we should meet with 
 nothing, either in the habits of the people or 
 the aspect of the country, to repay us for the 
 extreme inconvenience which would every- 
 where attend our mode of travel. There were 
 no peculiarities of .national manners to be 
 studied ; there was little in the scenery which 
 would endure a moment's comparison witli 
 what we had already seen, and might yet 
 
 OF VISITING CRACOW. 
 
 117 
 
 expect to see in Hungary. The people were 
 all wretchedly poor; there were no resident 
 gentry; the police ^regulations were even more 
 vexatiousthan in any other portion of the empire; 
 and the inns, kept by Jews, were intolerable. 
 All this, it must be admitted, was uninviting 
 enough, yet I question whether we should not 
 have faced it, had not another reason been 
 advanced why we should restrict ourselves, at 
 least for awhile, to the Hungarian territory. 
 We learned that, further to the right, along 
 the valley of the Graan, the regiment of Wal- 
 moden cuirassiers was stationed, and that we 
 should find among its officers several of our 
 countrymen ; from whom, or from their mess- 
 mates, a good route might be obtained. We 
 accordingly made up our minds, instead of 
 crossing the Waag, and so pushing by the great 
 road over the border, to follow the ascent of 
 the stream ; and to take our chance of finding 
 some mountain-path which might conduct us, 
 should the desire continue in force, into Ga- 
 licia. 
 
 It was a clear bright morning, when, still 
 
 attended by Mr. De Butts, we quitted Sillein. 
 He had proposed overnight that we should 
 accompany him to the chateau of Count Pom:^ 
 gratz, a hospitable mansion which lay a few 
 
118 
 
 ANGLING. 
 
 CASTLE OF BUDATIN. 
 
 119 
 
 miles out of our road ; and either dine there, 
 or remain all night, according as might best 
 accord with our own wishes and arrangements. 
 We had fallen in with his suggestion when he 
 made it ; but now a strong inclination to try 
 whether the AVaag would render up to our 
 English tackle any portion of its finny race, 
 came in the way; and the certainty of enjoymg 
 at least one pleasant evening in society, was 
 relinquished for the hope of a good day's sport. 
 We screwed up our rods, and set to work. 
 But from the first I did not anticipate much, 
 and the result answered to my anticipations. 
 The waters of the Waag are too white,— too 
 much impregnated with the phosphate of hme, 
 _to answer the purposes of the fly-fisher. We 
 had no success at all ; though we persevered so 
 long, as to take away from us all power ot 
 reconsidering our decision touching Count 
 Pomgratz, and had nothing left but to push, 
 as fast as we could, for St. Martin. 
 
 While we were flogging the water, our coun- 
 tryman lingered near, and pointed out, just 
 across the stream, a chateau, of which the 
 modern parts were gathered round a square 
 tower of enormous thickness. It was the 
 castle of Budatin ; and, like every other in this 
 land of romance, had various legends attached 
 
 to it. " At present," said our intelligent com- 
 panion, " it is inhabited by a widow lady, — a 
 very charming person, — the Countess Csaky; 
 but its original owners were the Graffs Surrok, 
 
 from generation to generation the most 
 
 ferocious barons of this country. As the cir- 
 cumstance which brought it, and the extensive 
 property which belongs to it, into the family of 
 the Csakys, is a curious one, it may, perhaps, 
 amuse you if I state it. 
 
 " You see that enormous tower in the centre 
 of the pile. I cannot say when it was erected, 
 but it is of great antiquity; and the walls are 
 so thick and solid that, though all within was 
 consumed by fire six centuries ago, they remain 
 without rent or crack, or any other evidence 
 that time is working its accustomed effects 
 upon them. If you had leisure to visit the 
 spot you would, moreover, see in one of these 
 walls a niche, within which I have often stood, 
 and which is intimately connected with the 
 little history which I am going to relate to you. 
 
 " At the period of the first crusade, or, to 
 speak more correctly, ere Peter the Hermit 
 had gone forth on his warlike mission, the 
 castle of Budatin was owned by a Graff Surrok, 
 who, bold and fierce, and proud and ambitious, 
 was at feud, more or less deadly, with all his 
 
120 
 
 LEGEND OF 
 
 neighbours. He had been married many years, 
 during which his wife had brought him several 
 chiklren, but all had died in their infancy, save 
 one daughter, whom they reared with difficulty, 
 and to whom, as might be expected, they were 
 much attached. It chafed the stern lord's soul, 
 to be sure, that a maiden should succeed to his 
 possessions, and transfer them, with her hand, 
 to some other stock, less noble, perhaps, than 
 his own ; but the feeling, though bitter, was 
 not sufficiently powerful to overmaster his strong 
 affliction for his daughter, whom he loved with 
 all the ardour of which his nature was capable. 
 " Many suitors sought her in marriage, when 
 she grew to woman s estate,— but they were 
 all rejected. They were neighbours, and as 
 such, little to the proud lord's taste ; and when 
 at length the banner of the cross was uplifted, 
 and he made up his mind to follow it, Leonora 
 seemed as far as ever from becoming the bride 
 
 of any one. 
 
 « The graff went his way, and was absent 
 several years,— during which the spirit of hos- 
 tility which had heretofore agitated the valley 
 of the Waag, died out. It appeared as if the 
 wizard, at whose bidding it rose, was gone, or 
 had lost his influence, and friendly communica- 
 tions and kind greetings began to pass among 
 
 BUDATIN. 
 
 121 
 
 the several families. In particular there ceased 
 to be wrath between the rival houses of Surrok 
 and Pomgratz ; and visits of ceremony soon led 
 the way to more intimate and confidential cor- 
 respondence. At last, the young Count Pom- 
 gratz declared himself the lover of Leonora, 
 and was by her accepted. The lady mother, 
 too, despairing of her lord's return, opposed 
 not the suit, and the day which was to render 
 the young people happy w^as fixed. It came, — 
 and brought with it all the appliances of a 
 ^vedding-morn in that chivalrous age. The 
 bishop was in the castle of Budatin ; its halls 
 were filled with guests ; — ^wine and wassail were 
 everywhere abundant; and the church was 
 preparing to bless the union, when the arrival 
 of two strange knights marked with the cross 
 on their shoulders, arrested the ceremony. 
 They were covered with dust, and toil-worn as 
 with much travail ; yet they refused for a while 
 either to speak or to unhelm, — but stood, silent 
 and rigid, regarding the scene before them as if 
 with scorn, and casting over the assembled 
 crowd a gloom which was quite mysterious. 
 At length one of them lifted his vizor, and 
 displayed the well-known features of Count 
 Surrok. He was furious with rage ; he drove 
 the bishop from his presence, he commanded 
 
 VOL. HI. 
 
 G 
 
IP*. 
 
 122 
 
 LEGEND OF 
 
 BUDATIN. 
 
 123 
 
 Count Pomgratz to flee for his life, and put a 
 very effectual stop to all the festivities, as well 
 in ladies' bower as in the hall of the retainers. 
 
 "Though Count Surrok had not been very 
 regular in his correspondence, (it is not quite 
 clear that he had ever learned to write,) he 
 had done his duty, and struck many hard blows 
 among the iniidels. Neither had his banner 
 been borne to the earth, save once, and then 
 he fell with it. But when the sword of the 
 Moslem was lifted to strike, a Christian war- 
 rior succoured him, and his pennant fluttered 
 once more triumphantly in the air. To that 
 knight he promised, in the exuberance of his 
 gratitude, the hand of his daughter Leonora ; 
 and the father and future husband were now 
 come to see that the promise was fulfilled. It 
 was to no purpose that Leonora and her mother 
 pleaded a prior engagement. Count Surrok 
 did not know any right which either wife or 
 daughter had to contract engagements, and the 
 Lady Leonora was commanded to accept, on 
 the instant. Count Czaky for her husband. 
 
 " There was much weeping, and fainting, and 
 complaining, of course, but the graff continued 
 inexorable ; and the altar being dressed once 
 more, Leonora, with her new lover, stood before 
 it. The priest put his question, * Would she 
 
 11 
 
 have this man for her husband ?' and, with a 
 courage worthy of her lineage, she answered, 
 ' No !' The book was closed ; but the count, 
 furious with rage, dashed the delinquent to the 
 earth, and swore, by all the saints, that she 
 should obey him or perish. She was his only 
 child, — but what of that ? Graff Surrok would 
 not be thwarted even by an only child, so he 
 caused a niche to be hollowed out in the wall 
 of the keep or dungeon, and into that he thrust 
 her. A loaf of bread and a pitcher of water 
 were placed beside her, and the niche was then 
 built up. * We shall see,' exclaimed the sol- 
 dier of the cross, ' whether this obstinacy be 
 or be not unconquerable. Thou shalt not come 
 out of thy narrow prison till thou hast con- 
 sented to wed thy father's preserver, and not 
 one morsel more of food or drink shall be 
 ffiven thee !' 
 
 " It was a barbarous deed, and having been 
 done openly, it caused a great sensation in the 
 valley. Young Count Pomgratz heard of it ; 
 and, arming his followers, he came upon Buda- 
 tin that night by surprise, and, after a stout 
 resistance, won it. The lady was released, the 
 tower was burned, and all things appeared to 
 have fallen into a right course. But Count 
 Pomgratz, though he had delivered his mistress 
 
 G 2 
 
124 
 
 LEGEND OF BUDATIN. 
 
 with the strong hand, was yet unwilling to 
 break entirely with her father, — so he lingered 
 amid the ruins two hours, in the hope of soften- 
 ing the proud man's ire. Time was thus 
 afforded to Count Czaky, of which he made 
 good use ; and when the lovers went forth to 
 seek a home in the castle of Ovar, he was 
 ready, with an overwhelming force, to intercept 
 them. What could valour, even when ani- 
 mated by despair, effect, against superior num- 
 bers, and experience in battle? The brave 
 young cavalier fell covered with wounds, and 
 Count Czakv remained master of the field. I 
 wish that a regard to the truth of history would 
 permit me to say that the Lady Leonora died 
 with her lover, or that, true to his memory, she 
 shut herself up in a convent, and devoted her 
 remaining years to saying masses for his soul, — 
 but it was not so. On the contrary, the man 
 of her own choice being slain, she ceased to 
 oppose herself to her father's wishes, and be- 
 coming the wife of Count Czaky, brought into 
 that family the possessions which they still 
 retain, — of which the present countess is but 
 the administratrix for her son, who is a boy." 
 
 We listened to this legend with great inte- 
 rest, and would have willingly visited the old 
 tower, but that time and opportunity were 
 
 ACCOUNT OF THE TORPINDAS. 
 
 125 
 
 alike wanting. There was no ferry within seve- 
 ral miles of us, and to have wandered back 
 after reaching it, would have been to borrow 
 too much from a day, for which more than ade- 
 quate employment was already cut out. For 
 our friend, among other pieces of useful in- 
 formation, had not only explained to us the 
 real character of the Torpindas, but had de- 
 lighted us by the intelligence that on our 
 route to St. Martin we might, if we were 
 so disposed, visit one of their settlements. 
 " They are an exceedingly curious tribe," 
 said he, "but they are not gypsies, though 
 their habits be, in every respect, different 
 from those of the peasants whom as yet you 
 may have encountered. They live entirely by 
 themselves, and work for no masters. They 
 inhabit glens among these mountains, a supe- 
 rioritv over which is asserted, indeed, by one or 
 other of the neighbouring nobles, but no man 
 livino- thinks of disturbing these Torpindas in 
 the scats which, from time immemorial, they 
 and their forefathers have occupied. On the 
 other hand, the Torpindas pay for their right of 
 occupancy, a tribute in money to some lord. 
 Their mode of raising the wind is as curious 
 as anything else connected with them. You 
 saw them in Bohemia, offering for sale brass 
 pipe-pickers, and other nic-nacs. These they 
 
126 
 
 ACCOUNT OF THE TORPINDAS. 
 
 fabricate at home during tlie winter, and in 
 summer, as soon as the seed is sown, they quit 
 their villages, and wander far and wide in search 
 of a market for their wares. If you go to any 
 of their settlements, at the present moment, it 
 is a chance if you find there a single male 
 above thirteen or fourteen years of age. All 
 the men and lads are abroad, and so they will 
 continue till winter sets in, or they have dis- 
 posed of their merchandise." 
 
 " And the women, are they left at home ?" 
 " Yes, regularly. The women and children 
 never quit their valleys ; and what is more, 
 should the husbands and sons of any settlement 
 in particular be late of returning, their neigh- 
 bours, Avho may have been more expeditious, or 
 had better luck in trade, come and gather in 
 their corn for the absentees. I strongly advise 
 you to take a look at one of their villages, 
 should you stumble upon it, — for they are a 
 very curious people." 
 
 We thanked Mr. De Butts for all the infor- 
 mation which he had communicated to us, and 
 for this not less than for other details; and 
 packing our rods in their cases, made ready to 
 act upon his suggestion. He walked with us 
 as far as the ferry, shook hands with us affec- 
 tionately at the water's edge, and there we 
 
 MOUNTAIN SCENERY. 
 
 127 
 
 parted. The last we saw of him was when his 
 boat had gained the middle of the stream, for 
 then we rounded the edge of a hill, and the 
 next step placed between him and us a screen 
 which will not, in all human probability, be 
 
 lifted for ever. 
 
 Our walk this day was, without exception, 
 the most interesting, in every point of view, of 
 all to which my recollections of this Hungarian 
 excursion, point. In the first place the scenery 
 far surpassed, in grandeur and in beauty, even 
 the finest of the landscapes which had pre- 
 viously greeted us. We had won the upper 
 extremity of the valley, and found ourselves 
 closing upon mountains,-— not perhaps quite so 
 lofty as those which surround Innspruck, in the 
 Tyrol, but very little inferior to them even in 
 point of altitude ; and in other respects, at 
 least, their equals. I never beheld forests 
 more glorious than those which covered them 
 to more than half their height. I never looked 
 upon crags and rocks, more beetling, more 
 rugged, more thoroughly majestic, than those 
 which interrupted the gloom of these forests, 
 and overtopped them. And for the rest, peak 
 and bald brow were rolled one over the other, 
 like the billows of a troubled ocean, ever vary- 
 ing in their shapes and outlines, yet ever bring- 
 
128 
 
 MOUNTAIN SCENERY. 
 
 OVAR CASTLE. 
 
 129 
 
 ing before us some new forms of beauty. Such 
 was the picture with which each step that we 
 took in advance brought us more and more in 
 collision ; while behind, and on each side, lay the 
 plain, the noble river, the towns through which 
 we had passed, here and there a village, and 
 finally ranges of bold hills shutting all the rest 
 in, as if with a frame of adamant. Not in all 
 my wanderings, — and I have worshipped na- 
 ture in many lands, — has my eye rested on a 
 panorama more perfect in its degree than this. 
 We held our very breaths as we gazed upon it, 
 and resumed our progress with an energy whicli 
 never comes, except when the imagination has 
 been reached through the medium of the 
 senses. 
 
 There was a road, and a good one, of which 
 we took advantage. It ran in some sort pa- 
 rallel with the Waag, except that it cut off one 
 or two enormous curves whicli the river makes 
 in this quarter, and it brought us into acquaint- 
 ance with more than one particular object 
 which put in strong claims upon our notice. 
 We saw, as we trudged along, an eminence, 
 crowned, here and there, with a gallows. There 
 were no dead bodies, to be sure, swinging in 
 the air ; but we recollected what Mr. De Butts 
 had told us concerning the recent prevalence of 
 
 martial law in the country, and we concluded, 
 as it afterwards appeared not without reason, 
 that here numerous executions had taken place. 
 By-and-by we gained a point where the plain 
 ended altogether, and mountain piled upon 
 mountain alone met the gaze. No power of 
 language could do justice to the scene. We 
 stood at the summit of a swelling hill, which 
 we had won, not without considerable exertion. 
 Beneath us the Waag poured on his troubled 
 waters, hemmed in, on either hand, by banks 
 which left little of open space between him 
 and the rocks that formed the roots of the 
 giant mountains through which he made his 
 way. But this was not all. On one side a 
 straggling village seemed to follow the course 
 of the stream ; and was overlooked, at its upper 
 extremity, by the ruins of a fortalice,— a bold 
 baronial-looking pile ; not, indeed, very exten- 
 sive, but so planted on the crest of a detached 
 rock, as to render it perfectly secure against 
 the attacks of an enemy who might not care 
 to reduce it by the slow process of famine. 
 It was all that remained of Ovar Castle, the 
 ancient hold of the Pomgratzes ; a family which 
 traces itself down from the Roman general 
 Pomgranitus, and claims to be accounted one 
 of the oldest among the nobility of Europe. I 
 
 G 3 
 
 
 I 
 
p 
 
 130 
 
 LEGEND CONCERNING 
 
 THE COUNTESS POMGRATZ. 
 
 131 
 
 cannot pretend to offer so much as an opinion 
 touching the justice or injustice of this claim. 
 I only know that the remains of the keep are 
 very striking, and that there is a rather curious 
 story attached to them. 
 
 Within distinct view of the ruined castle, 
 though lower in the vale, and having the Waag 
 spread between, is a village called Stretschin, 
 an inconsiderable place, remarkable for nothing 
 except the circumstance of which I am now 
 going to make mention. In the church of 
 that village there is a tomb, and beneath the 
 tomb there is a vault, where the dust of the 
 Pomgratzes has for many ages been accumu- 
 lated. Among the decayed and decaying 
 relics of humanity which occupy the niches of 
 the vault, there is pointed out to the traveller 
 a leaden coffin ; the lid of which being raised 
 at his bidding, the corpse of a lady meets his 
 eye. There are no signs even of incipient 
 decomposition about it. It lies with a pale 
 cheek, doubtless, and a white and livid lip ; 
 but the skin is pure, the long dark hair luxu- 
 riant, and the features, which are cast in a 
 mould of extreme beauty, have neither col- 
 lapsed nor lost their proportions. And so it 
 has lain for two hundred and fifty years, and 
 though no process of embalming was ever 
 
 adopted towards it, its condition remains 
 exactly what it was when first they committed 
 it to the grave. When you stand beside the 
 coffin, you look down upon the mortal shell 
 which once contained the spirit of a true and 
 tender-hearted woman, whose devotion to a 
 worthless husband went not unrewarded even 
 in life, and the memory of whose piety the 
 Virgin has deemed it right thus to perpetuate 
 
 among men. 
 
 " Somewhere about the middle of the six- 
 teenth century, says the legend, Ovar Castle was 
 inhabited by a Count Pomgrktz, whom neither 
 the beauty nor the gentleness of a fair and gentle 
 wife could reclaim from his profligate habits. 
 They had not been married three months ere his 
 attentions to his bride began to be intermitted ; 
 and before the expiration of the year he de- 
 serted her altogether. Rarely, indeed, did he 
 visit his home at all ; and when he came, it 
 was usually by stealth, for he preferred a career 
 of guilt among his lemans and loose flatterers, 
 and indulged his humours freely at another of 
 his mansions across the river. The lady 
 mourned in secret over her wrongs, yet she 
 never grew cold in her love for the wrong-doer. 
 On the contrary, she repaired nightly to the 
 chapel, and prayed to the Virgin that her lord 
 
 ii' 
 
132 
 
 LEGEND CONCERNING 
 
 THE COUNTESS POMGRATZ. 
 
 133 
 
 might be restored to her ; and, as the Virgin is 
 exceedingly considerate in such cases, her 
 prayers were in due time answered. As she 
 stood before the altar on a certain occasion, she 
 beheld a bright vision of Mary, who told her 
 that her petitions had been accepted, and that, 
 ere the morning dawnied, the count would be 
 brought back to her more tender and more 
 true than he had been on the morning of their 
 marriage. A grateful heart was that which 
 the countess bowed before the benignant saint, 
 and though the means by which so blessed a 
 communication might be effected were to her 
 a mystery, she doubted not that the result 
 would verify the saintly promise. 
 
 " The countess withdrew to her chamber to 
 
 # 
 
 Avatch and weep. It was a night of fearful 
 storm. The wind roared, and the rain fell, and 
 the thunder bellowed through the ravines, while 
 the Waag, swollen to more than twice his cus- 
 tomary size, swept beneath the castle walls one 
 mass of foam. The lady looked out from her 
 casement, and during a lull in the tempest she 
 heard a shriek, as if from some one who strug- 
 gled with his fate in the midst of the stream. 
 An inexplicable impulse was upon her. She 
 rushed into the hall, commanded her vassals to 
 attend her, and flew with the rapidity of thought 
 
 to the river's brink. There is a ferry still at 
 the point where she halted, — and caused a boat 
 that lay high upon the beach to be launched. 
 But who would venture to face that roaring 
 river? The vassals shrank back, till the 
 countess herself sprang into the boat, and then 
 four of the bravest followed. They battled 
 with the torrent nobly, and though often on the 
 brink of destruction, they succeeded in reaching 
 the object of their search. A boat, keel upper- 
 most, came drifting towards them, and a solitary 
 human being clung to it. He was rescued from 
 his perilous situation, brought safely to the 
 castle, and proved to be — the faithless count. 
 I need not go on. Utterly confounded by this 
 display of courage and devotion, on the part of 
 the countess, he became from that hour a new 
 man ; and they lived together for several years 
 afterwards, in peace and harmony. But the 
 legend is not yet ended. The grateful lady 
 failed not, regularly as the anniversary of that 
 nio-ht came round, to offer on the Virgin's shrine 
 some costly gift ; and the Virgin marked her 
 sense of the donor's liberality, by giving to her 
 body a faculty of resistance to decay. Hence, 
 after an interval of two centuries and a-half, her 
 outward frame retains the aspect of life, and 
 lies in its repose the fair and even attractive 
 
134 
 
 STRETSCHIN. 
 
 THUNDER STORM. 
 
 135 
 
 i 
 
 thing of which the people of Stretschin still 
 make their boast." 
 
 We ascended the steep rock on which the 
 castle is perched, by a narrow winding path, 
 and looked round. The clouds, which had been 
 gathering for some time in the sky, closed on 
 the tops of the mountains, and rolled down 
 enormous waves into the valleys that here and 
 there intersect them. The forests, black, and 
 deep, and as it seemed, interminable, w^aved not 
 a bough. The air was so still, that though 
 many hundred feet above its bed, we distinctly 
 heard the Waag chafing on his course, till 
 having escaped from the restraint of the ravine 
 through which he passed, he gained the open 
 country, and there spread himself out, as if to 
 
 repose. 
 
 On his further bank, at a point where the 
 stream was divided into two channels, stood 
 Stretschin, nestled, as it w^ere, in a curvature of 
 the mountain-range. Nearer, and on our side 
 of the river, was the village of Ovar, at the 
 very extreme edge of the plain, while in front 
 we saw only a long and tortuous path, — the 
 road which we were to follow, and by means of 
 which we were to be conducted over a ridge 
 several thousand feet high, to descend we knew 
 not where. Nor may I omit to mention another 
 
 object which attracted a large share of admira- 
 tion, a ruin considerably more extensive than 
 
 that amid which we lingered, and planted, as if 
 in rivalry of the strong hold of the Pomgratzes, 
 on a detached cliff exactly opposite. It was 
 altogether a glorious scene, the effect of which 
 was certainly not diminished by the chequered 
 lioht and shade which the growing storm cast 
 over it ; for even the mountain-tops w^ere not 
 all shrouded together, and upon the open vale 
 -which we had left behind, bright sunbeams 
 were streaming. We sat down, and unbuckling 
 our cloaks, threw them on. It was well that 
 we did so ; for the next minute a thunder-cloud 
 burst with a crash, and the rain fell as if once 
 more heaven's windows had been opened. I 
 cannot attempt to describe the sensations pro- 
 duced upon us as we watched, from beneath 
 the broken shelter of a buttress, the storm work 
 itself out. The flashes of lightning which fol- 
 lowed one another with rapidity, displayed from 
 time to time mountain, and forest, and rock, 
 while all seemed to disappear again in the gloom 
 which followed; while the thunder, reverbe- 
 rating from corrie to corrie, sounded as if there 
 had been no interval between the peals. 
 
 The storm continued about half an hour, 
 when the clouds broke away, and the sun shone 
 
 II 
 
 li 
 
136 
 
 DEVOTIONAL FEELING EXCITED 
 
 BY GRAND NATURAL SCENERY. 
 
 137 
 
 ?ll! 
 
 if 
 
 out with a splendour Avliicli was quite over- 
 powering. I bad imagined, while the mists 
 were collecting, that I had never looked upon 
 so magnificent a panorama ; I now felt that I 
 had deceived myself. A thousand minute 
 objects which had escaped observation amid the 
 gloom were now visible. I saw where, in the 
 mighty forests, small clearances had been made. 
 I beheld, far, far above me, a cottage planted 
 here and there, upon a sort of hanging terrace. 
 The rocks that overhung the woods, and broke 
 in upon their majesty, were more varied and 
 more picturesque in their forms than I had 
 imagined them to be ; and above all, the line 
 of perpetual snow was visible, for some of the 
 mountains in the back-ground of this Alpine 
 district, were white to a considerable distance 
 beneath their peaks. I plead guilty to the 
 weakness, if such it be, of being swayed amid 
 scenery like this, to feelings that set all effort 
 to delineate or explain them, at defiance. In 
 the temple built by hands, worship may be 
 devoutly offered up ; and the good man prays 
 as earnestly in his own closet as in church ; but 
 the sentiment which is called into operation by 
 communion with nature, when she puts on 
 such a garb as she wore this day, seems to me 
 far holier, far purer, far more elevating and 
 
 ennobling to the human soul, than even that 
 which the deep tones of the organ draw forth, 
 or the words of the Liturgy,— however solemnly 
 uttered, can awaken. No wonder that the men 
 of old, undirected by the light of revelation, 
 should have erected their altars, whenever they 
 could, on the high places, and in the groves. 
 In the intercourse which he holds with moun- 
 tain and forest, man feels his own perfect weak- 
 ness, and is glad to look round even in the 
 wilderness, for beings more potent than himself 
 on whom he may lean for support. How much 
 more active, then, how much more intense, must 
 be his devotional feeling now, that he has 
 learned to acknowledge that God is every- 
 where ; and that the deep solitude, as it hides 
 him not from the eye which never sleepeth, 
 so can it expose him to no hazards from 
 which there is not a power at hand competent 
 
 to deliver him. 
 
 We waited till the last burst of the stonn 
 had expended itself, and then with frames re- 
 freshed by the halt, and minds hallowed by the 
 influence of all that Avas around us, we resumed 
 our march. It was abundantly toilsome; for 
 throughout two good hours we continued 
 steadily to ascend. Yet was it delicious, too ; 
 and when, having won the ridge, we found our- 
 
138 
 
 ARRIVE AT 
 
 selves standing above a valley, deeper, lonelier, 
 and more narrow, than any we had yet seen, 
 we were incapable of giving utterance even to 
 the common-place exclamation, " How magni- 
 ficent!" On, however, we went, the woods 
 now closing over us, now falling back, as if on 
 purpose to afford us a glimpse of all that lay 
 beyond them ;— the river, diminished to a silver 
 thread, and stealing through the depth below; 
 —above him, mountain upon mountain, lone, 
 and sad, and hoary; while we ourselves were 
 all the while traversing the side of a range, so 
 bold and sheer, that in many places it hemmed 
 us in like a wall. And then the perfect soli- 
 tude that was around. Of human habitations, 
 or the work of man, there was not, except in 
 the road which we traversed, anywhere a trace ; 
 nor did we encounter a living creature till we 
 had descended well-nigh to the bottom of the 
 
 abyss. 
 
 We had gained a point in the road where it 
 makes a sudden turn to the left, and were in 
 the act of gathering some wild strawberries 
 which grew in great quantities along the hill 
 side, when a strange wild cry, something like that 
 with which every traveller in Switzerland must 
 be familiar, attracted our attention. It came 
 from an eminence over head, and was answered 
 
 A TORPINDA SETTLEMENT. 
 
 139 
 
 from some recess far below, the answer being 
 taken up and repeated at three or four different 
 points ; a very satisfactory proof that, though 
 not yet visible, beings of like passions with our- 
 selves were not far from us. Our curiosity was 
 roused, and we determined to gratify it; so 
 pushing in the direction of the height from 
 which the first whoop proceeded, we found our- 
 selves in a moment at the gorge of a glen, which 
 but for this accident, would have escaped our 
 notice. We entered it without scruple, and after 
 traversing a rude path that had been cut out in 
 the jungle, we emerged from beneath its shade, 
 and lo ! an inhabited strath was before us. It 
 was a long, but narrow glen, studded at intervals 
 with some twelve or fourteen huts of the most 
 primitive architecture, and laid out, throughout 
 its recess, in fields of rye and buck-wheat. We 
 moved on, and presently a whole troop of dogs 
 rushed barking and furiously towards us: this was 
 not exactly the sort of reception for which we 
 would have bargained, for even the common 
 sheep-dog of Hungary, and these were nothing 
 more, is a very savage beast ; but we put a bold 
 face upon the matter, and levelling our rods 
 kept the enemy at bay. We were not, how- 
 ever, left to maintain, without support, what 
 might have proved, in the end, so unequal a 
 
l¥ 
 
 BY THE INHABITANTS. 
 
 141 
 
 140 
 
 OUR EECEPTION 
 
 I 
 
 combat. From the nearest of the huts, several 
 women came forth, and, the dogs being called 
 off, we were permitted to move forward. We 
 looked round and round, but saw no men. 
 Women and children there were in abundance, 
 but their fathers and brothers seemed all to be 
 absent; and we came to the conclusion, that 
 chance had conducted us to one of the settle- 
 ments of the Torpindas. We were not deceiving 
 ourselves, tliis was a Toqiinda settlement ; and 
 in everything within and around it, in the order 
 of its society, the condition of the individuals 
 of whom it was composed, it agreed entirely 
 with the description which Mr. De Butts had 
 
 given. 
 
 As was to be expected, we Avere quite as 
 iiuich objects of curiosity to the inhabitants of 
 that glen, as they could be to us. At first, 
 indeed, they seemed somewhat afraid of us ; for 
 after calling off their dogs, they withdrew to 
 their own doors, and continued to stare at us 
 without making any advances towards acquaint- 
 anceship. Our gallantry of course took the 
 alarm ; and by a variety of signs we endea- 
 voured to convince them, that we came with 
 no hostile intention. The women appeared to 
 understand us, but the children clung about 
 their mothers' knees as we advanced, and the 
 
 dogs were by no means inclined to deal kindly 
 by us. In spite of the hostile demonstrations 
 of the latter we moved on; and were soon 
 within conversational distance ; but alas ! con- 
 versation, except by gestures, was out of the 
 question. Not a word that we uttered was by 
 them understood, nor were their words one 
 whit more intelligible to us. We were desirous 
 of entering one of the cottages, and accordingly 
 pointed to our mouths as if we had been 
 hunory. The person to whom we addressed our- 
 selves evidently guessed at our meaning; for 
 she turned round and said something in a loud 
 voice, which brought to the door another 
 woman, a good deal older than herself, and a 
 brief consultation appeared to take place be- 
 tween them. The result was, that they beckoned 
 us to come in, and we passed the threshold. 
 
 The hovel into which we thus introduced 
 ourselves, though very poor and very filthy, was 
 at least equal to many which I have seen, both 
 in Ireland and in the Highlands of Scotland. 
 The walls, to be sure, were made of the branches 
 of trees, plastered over with mud; the floor 
 was earth, and the roof thatched ; but the win- 
 dows, and there were two, though very small, 
 had glass in them ; and there was a fire-place 
 with a chimney at one of the extremities. The 
 
Ml 
 
 142 THEIR HABITATIONS. 
 
 furniture consisted of three rude beds two 
 settles or forms, one longer than the other ; a 
 huge chest, and a couple of stools. There were 
 some shelves muler the roof, on which s ood 
 various articles of crockery, some brown, others 
 a dingy white; and a churn in the far corner 
 seemed to indicate that the occupants kept 
 either cows or goats, and knew how to make 
 butter. That they were rich in milk, was in- 
 deed made manifest by the production of a 
 pitcher full ; which the younger of the two 
 Lmen placed, with a loaf of black rye bread 
 before us ; and both her own manner, and that 
 of her companion, satisfied us that they were 
 not anxious to spare it. We ate and drank a 
 little, rather to gratify them, than because we 
 Avere in need of refreshment ; and were wel 
 pleased to observe, that their only wish seemed 
 to be that we would eat and drink more. 
 
 We had observed, while we were conversing 
 by signs in the open air, that there had been a 
 great stir in the settlement. The inmates of 
 every cottage came forth, and now one after 
 another they poured in, till the room was incon- 
 veniently crowded with them. We were much 
 amused with the grotesque group before us, and 
 particularly struck with the change which ad- 
 vancing years seemed to make upon the indi- 
 
 THEIR DEESS AND ArPEARANCE. 
 
 143 
 
 viduals composing it. The children, for example, 
 were generally pretty ; dark, indeed, and sallow 
 in their complexions, but healthy-looking. Of 
 the younger women, the appearance of some 
 was tolerable ; but all those who had attained 
 to middle age, or passed it, were hideous. Their 
 dresses again, seemed not to vary either in form 
 or material, after they attained to early youth. 
 As infants, and for a few years beyond infancy, 
 only a few rags of coarse linen covered them ; 
 as women, whether young, or old, they wore 
 short woollen petticoats, jackets of the same, 
 and their hair wrapped up in handkerchiefs; 
 but they were universally squalid and filthy. 
 
 We were amused, as I have already said, by 
 the grotesque groups that faced us; for the 
 children came with their mothers, and old and 
 young appeared animated by the same feeling 
 of eager curiosity to examine us ; but a sense of 
 the ridiculous gave place, ere long, to satiety, 
 and we rose to depart. A few small silver 
 coins, which we gave to the younger branches of 
 the family, were accepted with a lively demon- 
 stration of gratitude. I do not believe that 
 such a compensation for the bread and milk 
 was expected ; indeed, at one time, I thought 
 that the women would have declined to receive 
 it; but the Torpindas are a money-loving 
 
THE TORPINDAS. 
 
 145 
 
 144 
 
 ORIGIN OF 
 
 race, and their reluctance, if tliey really ex- 
 perienced such, to be paid for the hospitality 
 which they had dispensed, was not proof against 
 the glitter of the precious metal. They kissed 
 our hands, by way of thanking us, and we left 
 
 them. 
 
 Our conversation, as will readily be imagined, 
 turned almost exclusively, during the remainder 
 of our walk, on the condition and mode of life 
 of the remarkable people, whose homes we had 
 just quitted. Whal are these Torpindas ? How 
 comes it about that they have not passed, like 
 the rest of the peasants of the hills, into a state 
 of vassalage ; and under what system of govern- 
 ment, if under any, do they live ? These were 
 questions which we could not then answer, 
 and with the means of answering which, some 
 time elapsed ere we were supplied ; but as the 
 subject is before us, it may not be amiss if I 
 state here, in few words, the substance of what 
 was at a later period communicated to me. 
 The Torpindas, it appears, are not descended 
 from the same stock with the common pea- 
 sants ; and are of much longer standing in the 
 country. They are of Slavonic origin, doubt- 
 less ; but their language, though radically the 
 same with that of the people of Modern and 
 Beise, differs from it in so many minute points, 
 
 ^ 
 
 1 
 
 H 
 
 that a Torpinda and a Slavac can scarce carry 
 on a lengthened conversation, at least without 
 much difficulty and some confusion on both 
 sides. It is accordingly surmised, that if there 
 be such things in Carpatia as aborigines at 
 all, the Torpindas deserve so to be esteemed. Be 
 this, however, as it may, the opinion appears to 
 be well supported, which assumes, that driven 
 back by the Slavonians out of the richer valleys, 
 they long ago took refuge in these glens ; and 
 that the Hungarians when they overran the 
 rest of the country, left them in quiet possession 
 of their settlements. I found, too, that in 
 another and very important respect, the con- 
 dition of the Torpindas is different from that 
 of the Slavacs around them. Though not pa- 
 gans, in the proper acceptation of the term, 
 they can hardly be said, even now, to have 
 embraced Christianity ; for there are no places 
 of worship nor resident clergy in their villages ; 
 and I do not believe that they ever come down 
 from their fastnesses, in order to participate in 
 the rites of the church. With respect again to 
 their system of government, though it be in 
 name, w^hat the Hungarian legislature has esta- 
 blished, I cannot find that they greatly trouble 
 themselves by making appeals in case of wrong 
 received, to the constituted authorities. Each 
 
 VOL. III. H 
 
146 
 
 THE TORPINDAS. 
 
 village, on the contrary, forms a sort of republic 
 within itself, of which the affairs are managed 
 by the heads of families; while between the 
 several settlements only so much communi- 
 cation is kept up, that the occupants of one are 
 ever ready to assist the occupants of another in 
 case of need. In a word, the condition of the 
 Torpindas resembles in many respects that of 
 some of the Indian tribes of America ; with this 
 essential difference between them, that whereas 
 the Indians subsist chiefly by the chase, the 
 Torpindas are at once, an agricultural, a pas- 
 toral, and a mechanical people. 
 
 I do not recollect that there occurred, after 
 we quitted the Torpinda settlement, any adven- 
 ture which deserves that I should pause to 
 describe it. We dipped down into the glen ; 
 ascended another, through a humbler range of 
 hills, and beheld before us a new valley, similar to 
 that which is watered by the Waag, but consi- 
 derably wider. Into this we penetrated ; and 
 having committed fewer blunders than from 
 our ignorance of the language might have been 
 expected, — we arrived about six o'clock at our 
 station for the night, the village, or rather, town 
 of St. Marton. 
 
 147 
 
 ^ 
 
 '1 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ST. MARTON. CURIOUS CUSTOMS. PURSUE OUR WALK. 
 
 THE HUNGARIAN PEASANT. STATE OF PROTESTANTISM. 
 
 OF AGRICULTURE. MOSSOCS. TOILSOME MARCH. 
 
 KREMNITZ. PROCEED TOWARDS NEUSOHL. RECALLED. 
 
 . — THE GYPSIES. 
 
 The Hungarian,— or, to speak more correctly, the 
 Slavonian villages,— are nowhere remarkable 
 for their cleanliness, but anything to approxi- 
 mate the filth of St. Marton I never beheld. 
 The streets were literally masses of mud, with 
 here and there a narrow lane cut through the 
 impurities, whether by the spade or the feet of 
 passers to and fro, I cannot tell. It is a place 
 which, containing from twelve to fifteen hundred 
 inliabitants, can boast of its court-house and 
 two churches. There are two inns, one kept 
 by a Jew, the other by a Christian ; and of the 
 dwellings, some, in their external appearance 
 at least, might pass muster anywhere; yet, 
 take it for all in all, I remember it as the most 
 perfect sink of abominations into which my 
 evil fortune has ever led me. For not the 
 exterior of things only, but in tlie interior also, 
 
 H 2 
 
 ^ 
 
 m ^1 
 
il tl 
 
 148 OUR QUARTERS AT ST. MARTON. 
 
 at least in the cabaret which afforded us shelter 
 for the night, confusion reigned supreme. In 
 the^strength of our bigotry or the ignorance of 
 our hearts, we established ourselves in the 
 Christian hotel ; and were immediately taught 
 that a man's tastes for the elegancies of life are 
 little operated upon by his religious belief. 
 The most swinish Israelite that ever eschewed 
 pork, could not have inhabited a more perfect 
 
 sty. 
 
 Having prevailed, by dint of much coaxing, 
 to get our apartment purified from some of the 
 deposits which previous occupants, including a 
 swarm of cocks and hens, had left there, we 
 inquired for the detachment of Walmoden 
 cuirassiers, to overtake which formed one of 
 our objects in visiting St. Marton at all. We 
 found, to our regret, that it had marched two days 
 previously, and that our countryman, Mr. Craw- 
 ford, was understood to be in quarters at Hoy, 
 a village some sixteen or eighteen English miles 
 distant. There was nothing for it, under such 
 circumstances, except to summon our philoso- 
 phy to our aid, and to make the most of things 
 as we found them. I cannot say that during 
 our brief sojourn here much was added to 
 our stock of useful knowledge ; yet we did see 
 something which amused, if it can hardly be 
 
 CURIOUS SCENE. 
 
 149 
 
 ^i ^. 
 
 t 
 
 described as edifying; and though not the 
 people, but the animals, were the principal 
 actors in the scene, I may as well describe it. 
 
 We were sitting beside the open window, 
 the sun having gone down about an hour, when 
 all at once there came pouring along the street 
 a whole mob of pigs, cows, and geese, grunting, 
 lowing, cackling, and careering full tilt, to the 
 palpable discomfort of^very biped whom they 
 encountered. It -n'as curious to observe the 
 sagacity with which the creatures, one after 
 another, broke off from the throng, and made 
 each for its own domicile. Here an enormous 
 sow went splashing through the mud, down 
 some filthy lane, till she reached her sty ; there 
 a couple or two of geese, with wings distended, 
 skimmed over the earth's surface, towards their 
 roost. On the whole, the movements of the 
 cows were the most decorous, though they, like 
 their companions, travelled entirely free of con- 
 trol. We remembered, as we watched the 
 antics of these animals, what had been told us 
 of the custom, in reference to such matters, in 
 Bohemia ; and we came to the conclusion that 
 here also the cattle belonging to each village 
 were fed in common. We were not mistaken 
 in drawing this inference ; and we had the good 
 fortune,— for so, amid much laughing, we ac- 
 
150 
 
 CURIOUS SCENE. 
 
 counted it, — to witness next morning the pro- 
 cess of muster as it went on. The first streaks 
 of dawn were just coming in, when a long, and 
 loud, and peculiar blast of a horn awoke me. 
 I jumped up, and saw, standing beneath my 
 window, a peasant, with a sort of trumpet at 
 his mouth, made, as it seemed, of the bark of a 
 tree, and not less, at a moderate estimate, than 
 five feet long. With this he blew a flourish at 
 intervals, passing on after each, about thirty or 
 forty yards ; and he was answered by the out- 
 pouring of cattle, geese, and pigs ; each com- 
 ing, as it had gone on the previous evening, 
 entirely unattended, and all joining in a concert 
 more audible than harmonious. I defy the gravest 
 of mortal men, when beholding that spectacle 
 for the first time, to suppress his laughter. Yet 
 the scene, though ludicrous to us, was regarded 
 by the principal actors in it as an affair of great 
 moment. The peasant continued to wind his 
 horn till all the beasts of the village were 
 assembled ; and then, being joined by two or 
 three others of his own class, the whole assem- 
 blage went on their way, amid the cracking of 
 whips, the hallooing of men, and the not less 
 musical combination of sounds which tlie four- 
 footed actors in the drama emitted. 
 
 We did not think it necessary, early as the 
 
 i 
 
 EUINED CASTLES. 
 
 151 
 
 is !' 
 
 hour was, to lie down again ; but completed 
 our toilets, and ordered breakfast. This done, 
 we prepared to resume our march; and having 
 marked on our chart, as a convenient halting- 
 place against noon, the town of Mossocs, to- 
 wards it we turned our steps. Our progress 
 was very delightful, for the air was mild, the 
 sky dappled with clouds, and the scenery, though 
 much less magnificent than that of the previous 
 day, highly interesting. We traversed a plain, 
 bounded on every side by noble mountains, 
 and washed here and there by the waters of a 
 petty stream, over which the corn waved in 
 great luxuriance, except where, at intervals, 
 some enormous meadow or sweep of natural 
 grass intervened. Moreover there were seen 
 afar off, at the roots of the hills, one or two 
 villages, while several ruinous castles, perched 
 among the rocks above, spoke of days gone by, 
 and of a state of society connected with them, 
 which shall not, at least in Europe, be brought 
 back again. But it was not on account of the 
 gratification which we experienced from the 
 things which were submitted to the outward 
 senses, that this day's march has been marked 
 in my diary as a pleasant one. We had not 
 proceeded many miles beyond St. Marton, when 
 we fell in with a man, better dressed than the 
 
I f 
 
 152 
 
 CONVERSATION WITH 
 
 generality of the peasants, though evidently 
 belonging to their class ; and as he spoke and 
 understood German sufficiently for our purpose, 
 we hastened to open with him a conversation. 
 I make no apology for repeating here the sub- 
 stance of it. 
 
 The ordinary salutations of the morning 
 having passed, and the countryman being 
 satisfied, both as to our lineage and our 
 business, we in our turn became the catechists. 
 We questioned him, first, as to his own con- 
 dition, and we learned that he was a tenant on 
 the estate of Baron Proni ; that by religion he 
 was a Protestant, and that his worldly affairs 
 were very prosperous. " Indeed we are almost 
 all Protestants in this part of the country," 
 continued he, " and I am happy to add, that 
 my eldest son is our minister." 
 
 " Then one of the two churches which we 
 observed in St. Marton is a Protestant place of 
 worship ?" demanded I. 
 
 "To be sure it is," replied he, "and it is 
 there that my son officiates." 
 
 The latter portion of this answer appearing 
 to encourage the belief that our new acquaint- 
 ance might be better acquainted, than the 
 generality of his order, with the existing state 
 of Protestantism in Hungary, I led the conver- 
 
 
 A PROTESTANT. 
 
 153 
 
 sation for awhile into that channel; and I 
 must confess that the extent of his information 
 surprised me. He appeared to have made the 
 subject his study, probably while training his 
 son to the ministry; and was altogether an 
 excellent specimen of the zealous and con- 
 scientious dissenter, such as we everywhere 
 find him. For it is a fact that, in reference 
 to the points of difference between their own 
 and the dominant communion, and, indeed, in 
 all matters of church history, through whatever 
 medium of prejudice examined, dissenters are, 
 in nine cases out of ten, much better informed 
 than the members of the church from which 
 their own has seceded. The churchman is 
 content to abide by the religion of his fathers ; 
 first, because it came to him from his fathers ;: 
 and nextpbecause it is the establishment^ 
 whereas the dissenter must, in order to justify 
 himself in his own eyes, be able to assign 
 some reason for his rejection of that church's 
 ministration. Accordingly, in Hungary, as 
 well as in England, the dissenter,— in the 
 former country, the Protestant, — will generally 
 be found to possess a much more familiar 
 acquaintance with the statistics of religion than 
 the Roman Catholic. I do not mean to assert 
 that he is always correct either in his facts or 
 
 h3 
 
 T^ 
 
 ! ^ri" r ■" ■ •a.T"^^ic:r..-. . 
 
154 
 
 PROTESTANTISM 
 
 his inferences; and I protest against the as- 
 sumption of the notion that on this individual 
 Prote3tant in particular I depend as an autho- 
 rity for what I am going to say. I refer to 
 him merely as illustrating the justice of an 
 opinion which is universally entertained in this 
 country, that whenever you come to a Pro- 
 testant district you perceive around you marks 
 of greater intelligence, and more patient indus- 
 try, and of a state of morals much less degraded 
 than prevails among the adherents to the Church 
 
 of Rome. 
 
 Every one who is moderately read in eccle- 
 siastical history knows that the doctrines of the 
 Reformation were, at a very early period, car- 
 ried across the Carpatian mountains from the 
 neighbouring states of Bohemia and Moravia. 
 As I have stated elsewhere, numerous colonies, 
 first of Hussites and afterwards of the Moravian 
 Brethren, fled, when persecuted at home, into 
 Hungary, where for a time they were well re- 
 ceived, and where their opinions made consi- 
 derable progress. But, as it had happened in 
 the land where Huss preached and the United 
 Brethren first drew together, so it befell here. 
 The doctrines and discipline of the Luthei*an 
 and Calvinistic churches cast those of the 
 Moravians into the shade, and the Reformation 
 
 IN HUNGARY. 
 
 155 
 
 ? I 
 
 ' 
 
 h 
 
 ' 
 
 1-an its course in Hungary, exactly as it had 
 done, and yet continues to do, in Germany. 
 
 The labours of the Reformed teachers would 
 appear to have been attended by more marked 
 success in Hungary than in any other of the 
 countries where their principles have not abso- 
 lutely triumphed. Persecuted they doubtless 
 were ; indeed, so recently as the reign of Maria 
 Theresa the crime of abjuring Popery was 
 punishable by the loss of goods and two years' 
 imprisonment ; yet they continued to increase, 
 til], in the year 1801, they were admitted, by 
 Roman Catholic writers, to stand in a relation 
 towards themselves of at least one to three. 
 The Protestants, on the other hand, affirm that 
 even then the ratio was much higher : and that 
 if a census were fairiy taken noM-, it would be 
 found that the Roman Catholics are in the 
 minority. I cannot undertake to decide be- 
 tween the disputants, though this much I do 
 know, that of the higher classes in Hungary 
 and Transylvania, a large portion, perhai^s the 
 majority, profess the Reformed faith. 
 
 Joseph II., a reformer,— in many respects 
 an inconsiderate one,— in Hungary as well as in 
 Bohemia, was the iirst to proclaim^absolute 
 freedom of opinion in matters of religion. He 
 had no authority from the Diet for this ; in- 
 
 ^ 
 
I 
 
 156 
 
 PROTESTANTISM 
 
 deed he set the rights of the Diet at defiance ; 
 and he became in consequence the most unpo- 
 pnlar monarch that ever swayed the Hungarian 
 sceptre. Yet the feelings of the people being 
 in favour of his decree, it was universally 
 obeyed ; and when, under his successor Leopold, 
 the Diet once more assembled, one of its first 
 measures was to give the force of law to that 
 which had previously been the mere act of an 
 usurper. It is worthy of remark, that in pass- 
 ing this great measure, a vast majority in both 
 houses voted for it. The_^gy, indeed, were 
 against it ; but out of the lay members only 
 ninety-three, a very small minority indeed, sup- 
 ported them. 
 
 From the passing of this act, in 1796, there 
 has prevailed in Hungary the most complete 
 toleration in reference to men's religious faith. 
 The Romish church continues, indeed, to be 
 the church of the state ; for all its endowments 
 have been preserved to it, and its bishops and 
 clergy sit and deliberate, as they were wont to 
 do, in the great assembly of the nation. But 
 not only has all power to oppress the Protest- 
 ants been taken away from them, but in every 
 legitimate respect the Protestant has been put 
 on a footing of equality with his Catholic neigh- 
 bour. Protestants are admitted, equally with 
 
 1 
 
 IN HUNGARY. 
 
 157 
 
 Catholics, to all offices under the crown. Pro- 
 testants are allowed to worship God openly 
 after the forms of the communion to which 
 they adhere. If in any village or district they 
 desire to build a church, or a school, or a glebe- 
 house, or all three, they make application to the 
 lord of the manor at a county-court ; and pro- 
 vided it appear that they are capable of support- 
 ing the necessary charges, permission so to do 
 is afforded them. The lord of the manor then 
 allots them a site, and the dues or fees which 
 heretofore they may have paid to the Catholic 
 priest, they thenceforth pay to their own pastor. 
 But the glebe, which constitutes by far the 
 more important part of the benefice, continues 
 still in possession of the Romish incumbent ; so 
 that every ground of hostility between him and 
 his Protestant brother is taken away. To be 
 sure, it is competent for a Protestant landowner 
 to endow the Protestant chapelry, if he be will- 
 ing ; and many such endowments there are in 
 Hungary, attached both to churches and schools. 
 But these are all comparatively of modern date, 
 and they no more injuriously affect the in- 
 terests of the establishment, than the interests 
 of the Church of England are injuriously 
 affected by Lady Hewley's charity, or the an- 
 nexation of glebes and glebe-houses to the 
 
 >-.y 
 
 r^: 
 
 V, 
 
 I: 
 
 4 
 1 
 
158 
 
 PROTESTANTISM. 
 
 IN HUNGARY. 
 
 159 
 
 livings of the dissenting ministers among our- 
 selves. 
 
 While it has dealt thus liberally with the Pro- 
 testant part of the population, the Hungarian Diet 
 has not been unmindful either of the rights of 
 the crown, as supreme guardian of religion in the 
 land, or of the respect due to the Romish 
 as the church of the state. The King of Hun- 
 gary, though he may not interfere directly with 
 the management of ecclesiastical affairs among 
 either the Lutherans or the Calvinists, claims 
 and exercises the right of general superintend- 
 ence. Thus he appoints the places where their 
 synods shall meet, and insists that there shall 
 be present at all such meetings, some one, — 
 not a Romish prelate or priest,— who shall 
 represent the sovereign. In like manner, while 
 both Lutherans and Calvinists are permitted to 
 print and circulate, for the use of their re- 
 spective communions, such religious books and 
 tracts as they please, these books must first of 
 all be submitted to the censorship of parties, — 
 belonging, indeed, to their churches, but ap- 
 pointed by the government, and by the govern- 
 ment held responsible for the contents of each 
 volume after it appears. So also it is enacted, 
 that no insidious methods shall be adopted to 
 make converts from the Romish faith; and 
 
 \^ 
 
 (( 
 
 \ 
 
 that in mixed marriages where the father is a 
 Roman Catholic the whole of the children shall 
 be brought up in the Roman Catholic religion ; 
 whereas if he be a Protestant, the sons shall 
 be Protestants and the daughters Roman Ca- 
 tholics like their mother. Of the wisdom .of 
 these latter enactments I say nothing, because 
 it must always bo hard to determine what 
 ought, and what ought not to be accounted an 
 insidious method of effecting a conversion ; and 
 it appears absurd in the extreme to fix the 
 religion of children byjaw,^ merely because 
 their father or their mother may have professed 
 a particular faith. But the ordinance which 
 enjoins that by all classes of the people the 
 festivals and fasts of the established church 
 shall be treated with respect, is surely not ob- 
 jectionable. It is right and proper that in 
 matters purely external, the religion of the 
 state, whatever it may be, shall have some 
 deference shown to it ; and as the Protestants 
 are formally assured by the act of the Diet 
 that no more is required at their hands,— as they 
 are even exempt, in courts of justice, from 
 swearing according to the national form, by the 
 Holy Virgin,— they would be very unreasonable 
 indeed did they complain that the slightest 
 violence is offered to their conscience. 
 
 / 
 
 I 
 
 \ 
 
 / 
 
 I 
 
160 
 
 PROTESTANTISM IN CROATIA. 
 
 One word more ere I pass on to other mat- 
 ters. It is curious enough, that the toleration 
 of which I have just spoken, does not extend 
 to Croatia. Croatia, though enjoying all the 
 privileges of the Hungarian constitution, and 
 sending its magnates and its deputies to the 
 Hungarian Diet, is still, in some sort, a distinct 
 kingdom. Accordingly, as the tenets of the 
 Reformers never made much progress, and the 
 people are many degrees more rude than the 
 inhabitants of Hungary and Transylvania, — the 
 spirit of persecution continues to prevail there, 
 though, for obvious reasons, it is little acted 
 upon. In Croatia, there are no Protestants, 
 nor, indeed, the profession of any other creed 
 than that of Rome ; and the Romish party has 
 provided, that within the limits of that king- 
 dom toleration shall not enter. 
 
 Having learned from our road-side acquaint- 
 ance, that in St. Marton the Protestants out- 
 numbered the Catholics by twenty to one, and 
 that his son's church was crowded on all occa- 
 sions, whereas the priest had scarce fifty souls 
 to attend upon his administrations, — we led him 
 on to discuss with us other points, concerning 
 which his intelligence, though not so surprising, 
 was quite as conspicuous. I had occasion some 
 time ago, to refer to the sort of tenure on which 
 
 FEUDAL DUES. 
 
 161 
 
 I 
 
 Hungarian peasants hold their lands, and to the 
 payments which they make of eggs, poultry, 
 butter, and other dues, to the landlord. The 
 facts of the case are these : — The precise amount 
 either of labour or of tribute, which the land- 
 owner might exact from his serfs, or peasants, 
 was never fixed by any pretext, either of law 
 or custom, till 1764. It was then that Maria 
 Theresa published her Urbarium,— a mere royal 
 proclamation to which the Diet never gave its 
 sanction, but which, being adopted as a standard 
 of justice, has ever since obtained universal 
 observance. Accordingly, a full farm is now 
 estimated to contain twenty-five acres of arable 
 land, and of grass as much as a man shall be 
 able to mow in twelve days. For this the 
 tenant pays annually a ninth of his whole pro- 
 duce, as well as of all lambs, kids, and bees, 
 which he may rear upon his farm; two chickens, 
 two capons, twelve eggs, and half a pound of 
 butter. Moreover, he is bound to furnish to 
 his landlord during the year, an hundred and 
 eleven days' labour, with a pair of hands, as 
 well as one day's service in every week, with a 
 wao-on and four horses. Then, again, when the 
 proprietor marries, or a child is born to him, or 
 his son takes a wife, or a new incumbent is 
 inducted, a donation of poultry, or corn, or 
 
 I 
 
 T/^ 
 
f ( 
 
 ^1 
 
 162 
 
 STATE OF THE PEASANTRY. 
 
 PRONl CASTLE. 
 
 163 
 
 some other species of produce, becomes due ; 
 while to sum up all, the peasant's whole pro- 
 perty, should he die without natural heirs, is 
 immediately seized upon by his landlord. On the 
 other hand, a peasant once put in possession of a 
 farm, becomes almost as much a fixture there, 
 as if the land were his own freehold. If he 
 leave sons behind him, they succeed to the 
 occupancy, of course, sharing it among them 
 till it is split into mere shreds, and uniting their 
 means to make good the tribute that is due, 
 and without a faithful discharge of which they 
 are liable to punishment. 
 
 All the serfs on a landowner's property are 
 not, however, farmers. There ai-e multitudes 
 who inhabit cottages only, and who find a sub- 
 sistence, as well as they can, from their gardens 
 and their labour. Each of these pays to the 
 landowner one florin, or two shillings, yearly, as 
 the rent of his cottage, and eighteen days' 
 labour in the fields. During the remaining 
 three hundred and forty-seven days he is paid 
 for his exertions. But though every landowner 
 in Hungary is likewise a farmer on a large 
 scale, it rarely happens that in the dull season 
 of the year, very many of these poor creatures 
 do not find it a hard matter to earn the scantiest 
 subsistence. For all the rights of hunting, shoot- 
 
 JL 
 
 ing, and fishing, belong strictly to the lords of 
 the soil ; nay, the woods themselves being theirs, 
 except where townships may have obtained 
 them, the very acorns are reserved exclusively 
 for feeding the swine of the great proprietors. 
 
 With such conversation our peasant at once 
 instructed and amused us, so long as our routes 
 lay in the same direction. We found him, also, 
 both well-informed, and willing to impart from 
 his stores, on other topics ; for he knew the 
 names of all the castles and villages round, and 
 was not absolutely ignorant of their histories. 
 There was a fine ruin, for example, on a de- 
 tached height near the mountains, which had for 
 some time attracted a large share of our atten- 
 tion, and we questioned him concerning it. 
 « That," said he, " is all that remains of Proni 
 Castle, the original seat of the family under 
 which I and my forefathers have lived for cen- 
 turies. It has long been deserted by its owners, 
 who now inhabit a schloss in Mossocs, whither 
 you are going, and where I am sure that you 
 have only to present yourselves to insure a 
 cordial welcome. The present baron is lord 
 lieutenant of the county; and a better-hearted 
 noble is not to be met with in all Hungary." 
 We did not say that we should volunteer a visit 
 to the baron, because we hoped to find our 
 
 *■•- 
 
164 
 
 MOSSOCS. 
 
 MOSSOCS. 
 
 165 
 
 countryman that night, and meant to leave the 
 disposal of our time for a brief space to him. 
 But we thought it not improbable that some 
 such result would follow, and we were well 
 pleased at the anticipation. 
 
 Our friend quitted us at last, after cordially 
 inviting us to accompany him home, — an invi- 
 tation which nothing except the covenant into 
 which we had entered with ourselves, hindered 
 us from accepting; and then we were alone 
 again. We made a brief halt, refreshed our- 
 selves with a little bread and wine under the 
 shade of a tree, and resuming our march, ar- 
 rived at Mossocs somewhere about eleven 
 o'clock in the forenoon. 
 
 Mossocs, containing perhaps six or eight 
 hundred inhabitants, would have had little to 
 distinguish it from the generality of Hungarian 
 villages, had not Baron Proni's chateau stood in 
 the middle of it. Tlirown back, indeed, the man- 
 sion was a little way from the street, for a sort 
 of court lay between them ; but the court itself 
 was not extensive, the wall that surrounded it 
 W'as low, and the avenue or approach to the 
 principal entrance was quite open. I have 
 every reason to believe that had we walked up 
 to it, and stated our business and country, the 
 hospitable owner would have w^elcomed us 
 
 
 
 without further introduction; indeed, I know 
 that having been afterwards made acquainted 
 with the fact of our passage through, he ex- 
 pressed himself much chagrined that we had 
 omitted to call upon him. But finding an inn 
 in the place, (a very sorry one, doubtless, yet 
 still an inn,) we could not so far get the better 
 of our national shyness, as to make an unautho- 
 rized claim upon his attentions. We turned 
 into the cabaret, which was pointed out to us 
 as the best in the village, and ordered dinner. 
 While it was in preparation, we questioned the 
 landlord concerning Mr. Crawford, and learned 
 that his troop had marched to Hoy; but that 
 as he was much at Baron Proni's, it was more 
 than probable that he might either be at that 
 moment an inmate of the schloss, or would 
 shortly visit it. I wTote a hasty note, on 
 wretched paper, and with wretched ink and pen, 
 and desired the landlord to carry it to the 
 schloss, and to deliver it. He went ; but re- 
 turned with intelligence, that Mr. Crawford 
 was not there ; and that his coming again, — the 
 regiment being on the march, — was doubtful. 
 We accordingly made up our minds, though 
 with reluctance, to push on; and not now 
 having any object to gain in visiting Hoy, we 
 resolved to make at once for Kremnitz, of 
 
 ■ ■ 
 
 I 
 
 ' I 
 
 ;^. jiii:i:.:^.£:-^Vipft^t'!rsiv'; 
 
!l 
 
 it 
 
 il 
 
 166 
 
 FATIGUING MARCH 
 
 TO KREMNITZ. 
 
 167 
 
 •which the gold and silver mines were described 
 to us as well worth seeing. 
 
 We quitted JIossocs about two, and con- 
 tinued, with only brief and occasional halts, to 
 press forward till the sun had gone far into 
 the west. Of Kremnitz, however, no appear- 
 ances presented themselves ; and fatigue, as well 
 as a slight degree of anxiety touching a place of 
 shelter for the night, began to affect us. This 
 was the more provoking that we had passed two 
 stations during the day, at either of which we 
 might have been well accommodated ; the first, 
 Alt Stiiben, where a party of the Walmoden 
 cuirassiers had halted ; the other, Neu Stuben, 
 a watering place, with a very tolerable inn. 
 But the assurances of the landlord of Mossocs 
 that Kremnitz must be gained long ere dark, 
 had misled us ; and leaving a message for Mr. 
 Crawford, with a corporal who commanded the 
 party in question, we held our course. It was 
 toilsome in the extreme. Beautiful valleys 
 smiled upon us in vain ; a clear silvery stream 
 did not tempt us to put our rods together ; and 
 we were trudging along, amid a growing twi- 
 light and much labour, when an incident 
 occurred which set us all to rights again. We 
 had passed a hamlet in the bottom of a valley, 
 and were ascending a hill, the road being 
 
 f 
 
 i 
 
 wooded on either hand, when two carriages 
 with four or five gentlemen on horseback, over- 
 took us. They passed, — lingered till we passed 
 ajrain, — and then came after us. A gentleman 
 who occupied a seat in one of the carriages now 
 asked what we were, and we told him. In a 
 moment, he caused his servant to pull up; 
 room was made for us in the vehicle ; and we, 
 nothing loth, took our places, beside this kind 
 acquaintance of the moment. He belonged, as 
 it appeared, to the magistracy of the county, 
 or rather to that order of the county authori- 
 ties to whom the charge of the royal forests was 
 entrusted; and he, and those who travelled 
 with him, had just been holding a court, and 
 were so far on their way back to Kremnitz. 
 Nothing could have befallen more opportunely 
 for us. Our friend had no home to offer us, for 
 he resided in a lodging in the town : but he told 
 us at what inn we should obtain the best accom- 
 modation, and drove us to the door of it. We 
 thanked him cordially for the attention which 
 he had shown, and proceeded to inquire for 
 
 quarters. 
 
 The hotel to which we were introduced was 
 a large building, with every imaginable space 
 to accommodate man and horse; but on this 
 particular night, it chanced to be full to overr 
 
 y 
 
n 1 
 
 11 
 
 168 
 
 KREMNITZ. 
 
 flowing. The landlord, an admirable model for 
 Sanclio Panza, assured us, that he had not a 
 hole into which it would be possible to thrust 
 us. We were sadly disconcerted, of course, 
 and telling him that we w^ere weary, and counted 
 much on his attention to strangers ; — that being 
 Englishmen, we would willingly pay what he 
 chose to demand, for even the most unassuming 
 apartment ; the honest man's heart was softened. 
 Yet let me do him justice. I do not believe that 
 he charged us a kreutzer more than he would 
 have charged one of his own countrymen ; but 
 seeing that my young companion was quite 
 worn out, he said, " I have no room to offer you, 
 except my own. It is not fit for gentlemen 
 like you, but if you will put up with it for one 
 night, and think fit to remain longer, I believe 
 that I can assure you of a better to-morrow." We 
 were too happy to avail ourselves of mine host's 
 liberality, and entered at once, and with extreme 
 thankfulness, into possession of the chamber. 
 
 The good man had underrated the value of 
 his own kindness. The room was filthy, I 
 allow, — thanks rather to the personal habits of 
 its usual occupant, than to any thing else ; but 
 it was abundantly large to accommodate us 
 w^ell, and two exceedingly good beds formed 
 part of its furniture. Alas ! I cannot say that 
 
 .4^.ai.JK3.».t-*J-J-J«.. ' « »*i«w 
 
 KREMNITZ. 
 
 169 
 
 even the beds were perfect specimens of clean- 
 liness. A vile custom which prevails in many 
 parts of Germany, holds good in all, except the 
 first-rate hotels of Hungary, that of thrusting 
 both mattress and coverlid into coloured tick- 
 ings, over which the landlord never thinks of 
 drawing white linen sheets, or any thing else 
 which may enable you to determine whether all 
 be fresh from the hands of the laundress, or 
 whether a score of sleepers have preceded you 
 in possession. I was not, therefore, surprised 
 to find that my bed, which had been our host's 
 before it became mine, was decked out in its 
 striped habiliments. But a fastidiousness, 
 quite out of place, I 'acknowledge, made me 
 averse to the idea of literally and actually be- 
 coming his hewn tenens. Accordingly, when 
 supper w^as ended, — and a very good one it 
 proved to be, — I ventured to suggest that it 
 mi«-ht be advisable to reserve the host's coverlid 
 for his own especial use. My wish was law, 
 and the coverlid went its way. I could not ask 
 for more. To be sure, we had been startled 
 while the change of bed-dressing was in pro- 
 o-ress, by the sounds of much squalling of chil- 
 dren near at hand; and the servant who 
 brought in the fresh coverlid informed us that 
 the nursery lay next to our room, and that its 
 
 VOL. III. ^ 
 
 jiir 
 
170 
 
 KREMNITZ. 
 
 inmates had been disturbed. But I thought 
 nothing of it till I found, on lying down, that 
 the mountain of feathers which covered me was 
 warm. Poor little objects ; they had been very 
 scurvily used in having their night gear thus 
 unceremoniously taken away from them. 
 
 In spite of this trifling inconvenience, we 
 slept soundly that night under the protection 
 of two crucifixes and as many Madonnas, which 
 were suspended near the beds. We awoke, too, 
 next morning, refreshed and vigorous, and 
 having set apart the day to an inspection of all 
 that might be curious in the place, we break- 
 fasted about eight o'clock, and sallied forth. 
 Kremnitz lies well, in' a sort of basin sur- 
 rounded by hills, which without advancing any 
 claim to be regarded as mountains, are yet, from 
 their formations, exceedingly picturesque. It 
 is a very old, and, on the whole, a very striking 
 town. The castle, within which stands the 
 church, crowns an eminence above it, and has 
 stood several sieges by the Turks; besides 
 being thrice burned during the troublous times 
 when Catholics and Protestants made the 
 sword the arbiter of their religious differences. 
 It was first in possession of the Catholics ; the 
 Protestants, who were always numerous here, 
 wrested it from them ; and it was finally won 
 
 KREMNirZ. 
 
 171 
 
 ^ 
 
 T 
 
 back after a desperate resistance, of which the 
 effects, in numerous breaches in the walls, are 
 still visible. The church, again, is a fine one, 
 though neglected and filthy ; and the view from 
 the tower is superb. We found, on ascending 
 it, the fire-watch as usual at their posts, that is 
 to say, two men, looking far and near for con- 
 flagrations, whose business it is, as soon as the 
 slightest indication of the calamity appears, to 
 blow their horns; and who testify to their 
 own wakefulness by striking on a great bell, 
 both by night and day, as well the hours as 
 the quarters. With them our intercourse 
 was not very protracted, inasmuch as a few 
 questions and answers circumscribed it, the 
 latter being followed, as a matter of course, by 
 a present of a couple of silver pieces ; after 
 which we returned to the level of the earth, 
 and after examining the curious old cross, and 
 looking at the exterior of a Benedictine con- 
 vent, we were carried by our cicerone, a relative 
 of our kind host, to the mint. For it is here 
 that most of the Hungarian gold and silver 
 coins are struck, of which the former are said 
 to be singularly pure ; and as we were just in 
 time to be present at the fabrication of a batch 
 both of ducats and twenty kreutzer pieces, it 
 will readily be imagined that we possessed our- 
 
 I 2 
 
 \r 
 
 ^_j»«.-aa»s-« 
 
 FSSMMWi 
 
 MF 
 
 f 
 
172 
 
 KREMNITZ. 
 
 START FOR NEUSOHL. 
 
 173 
 
 i I 
 
 ! i 
 
 M 
 
 selves of a specimen of each. But the mines, 
 which are very extensive, though worked, as 
 we are told, at little profit, we had not the good 
 fortune to see. They are closed at the hour of 
 noon; and as noon was passed ere we found 
 ourselves at liberty to approach them, we were 
 forced to keep our curiosity in reference to that 
 point in abeyance. 
 
 The appearance of the country round Krem- 
 nitz is quite in agreement with that of dis- 
 tricts in general where the precious metals are 
 found. There was very little wood near the 
 town ; the hills were bald and barren, while the 
 streams which flowed out of them, either tinged 
 by the deposit at their sources, or poisoned by 
 the pollutions which numerous smelting-houses 
 and vitriol distilleries poured forth, presented, 
 one and all, the most repulsive appearance, and 
 were quite destructive to animal life. The po- 
 pulation again, as is the case in all the mining- 
 towns of Hungary, consisted almost entirely of 
 ^colonists from Germany. On this, indeed, they 
 especially prided themselves, for it is a curious 
 fact, that from a very early date, the kings of 
 Hungary found it necessary to bring German 
 patience and skill to their aid in such occupa- 
 tions, and that the Germans thus employed, 
 while they are hated by the Hungarians and 
 
 I- 
 
 V 
 
 il 
 
 , 3 
 If t 
 
 |! i 
 
 Slavacs, repay the feeling with an unmitigated 
 and hardly-disguised contempt. Nothing, in- 
 deed, can be more marked than the line of dis- 
 tinction which is drawn between the races. 
 The Slavacs have, in some sort, forgiven the 
 Hungarians their usurpation ; the Hungarians 
 treat the Slavacs pretty much as they treat their 
 own peasants ; but both Slavacs and Hungarians 
 look upon these Germans as interlopers, with 
 whom it is impossible that they can ever enter 
 into bonds of amity or sincere companionship. 
 
 Having ascertained, about one o'clock, that 
 there was nothing more to be done in Krem- 
 nitz, and being assured by our guide that the 
 mines of Neusohl were much more deserving 
 of notice, we returned to our hotel, changed 
 our dress, paid our bill, and departed. There 
 was a steep ascent between us and the place of 
 our i)roposed destination, which we faced with- 
 out scruple, for the distance to be traversed was 
 described to us as inconsiderable ; and after 
 such a march as that of the previous day, the 
 passage of a hill, however sharp, was lightly 
 accounted of. But fate had determined that 
 we should never accomplish it. We had not 
 proceeded above two English miles on our road, 
 when the clattering of a horse's hoofs, and the 
 voice of some one hallooing in our rear, caused 
 
If 
 
 I! 
 
 I 
 
 174 
 
 RETURN TO KREMNITZ. 
 
 US to turn round. The corporal with whom we 
 had communicated at Alt Stuben w^as in i)ursuit 
 of us. He was the bearer of a letter from 
 Mr. Crawford, who begged us to join him at 
 Kreutz, and though Kreutz lay in a direction 
 entirely apart from the point whither our steps 
 were turned, we did not hesitate to fall in with 
 the suggestion. It was well for us that we 
 were prepared thus readily to adopt a change of 
 plan. Had we refused to do so, w^e should have 
 been, in every sense of the term, serious losers 
 by our own obstinacy. 
 
 We retraced our steps to Kremnitz, where, 
 in the inn-yard, the corporal's party waited for 
 us. They formed the advanced guard of a 
 troop of cuirassiers ; and went on, from stage 
 to stage, a day's march a-liead, in order that 
 they might choose quarters, and otherwise ar- 
 range matters against the arrival of their com- 
 rades. We desired the corporal to bespeak a 
 good apartment for us, and dismissed him. 
 Then having once more saluted our friendly 
 host, and chatted awhile with his really pretty 
 daughter, we struck into our new route, and 
 were soon as much alone as if no populous and 
 busy town had been within a hundred miles of us. 
 
 Our march this day proved to be, on more 
 than one account, highly interesting. In the 
 
 
 I 
 
 PROCEED TO KREUTZ. 
 
 175 
 
 first place, it carried us through a large portion 
 of the valley of the Graan, a beautiful glen, 
 hemmed in on either side by low but finely- 
 wooded hills, and washed in the midst by a 
 river. It is very true, that when examined 
 too closely, this last feature was the reverse of 
 perfect; for a constant influx of polluted 
 streams from the mining districts destroyed 
 altogether the transparency of the waters : yet 
 as seen from the road, the effect was fine, and 
 we were not disposed, by too close an inti- 
 macy, to spoil it. In the next place, there 
 occurred, during the day, at least one adventure, 
 which though not productive of any important 
 consequences, appeared to us at the moment to 
 be highly interesting, and which it may not 
 perhaps be out of place to describe. 
 
 We had accomplished about half our day's 
 journey, and were arrived at a point whence all 
 evidences of human society were hidden. It 
 seemed to be the very heart of the glen, for 
 the level space between the ranges of hills was 
 much diminished, and both hill and vale pre- 
 sented the appearance of a continuous forest. 
 Just then while we were gazing round, filled 
 with admiration of the woodland scene, some 
 wreaths of smoke, ascending over the tops of 
 the trees, attracted our notice. Our curiosity 
 
 i^ !i 
 
176 
 
 THE GIPSY CAMP, 
 
 was roused, and we resolved to indulge it. 
 Accordingly we abandoned the road, and p,ene- 
 trating a sort of grove on the right, we found 
 ourselves in a few minutes at the edge of an 
 open glade, within which three or four wig- 
 wams, or huts, formed of leafy branches, were 
 pitched. There was no possibility of mistaking 
 either the purpose for which the encampment 
 had been formed, or the lineage and business 
 of those by whom it was tenanted. Half a 
 dozen children, naked as if just brought into 
 the world, well-made and graceful-looking crea- 
 tures, with skins as dark as a mahogany table, 
 were playing about the skirts of the forest. 
 Others, equally devoid of covering, though con- 
 siderably more advanced in years, were gather- 
 ing sticks, or chopping them up for fire-wood ; 
 while from the interior of the largest of the 
 tents, there came volumes of smoke, accompa- 
 nied by a din as of hammers ringing sharply 
 upon an anvil. My companion and I looked 
 at one another, while we exclaimed in a breath, 
 «We have found the gipsies at last." We 
 had found them ; and rejoicing in the accident 
 which had thus brought us into a situation so 
 favourable in every respect to the accomplish- 
 ment of a long-cherished wish, we hastened to 
 turn it to account. 
 
 THE GIPSY CAMP. 
 
 177 
 
 The noise which we made while crashing 
 through the underwood, had already attracted 
 the attention of the gipsies. The children sus- 
 pended their gambols ; while from the tent door 
 there looked out two or three women, one of 
 whom, — an elderly person, — advanced to meet 
 us. Men's heads, likewise, showed themselves 
 at the aperture, round, well-covered, globular- 
 looking things, of which the countenances were 
 of a hue deeper than that of the high-caste 
 Hindoos, and the features, as well as the hair,, 
 precisely similar. We were well armed, and 
 did not, therefore, experience the slightest re- 
 luctance as to mixing familiarly with them. 
 On the contrary, having saluted the woman^ 
 who spoke a few, and only a few, words of bad 
 German, we walked towards the tent, and 
 without a moment's hesitation, entered. 
 
 The tent was not filled ; indeed, we quickly 
 ascertained that a good many members of the 
 tribe were abroad ; but it contained, in addition 
 to ourselves, three men, four women, three or 
 four half-grown youths, and by-and-by the whole 
 troop of children, who came rushing in from 
 wood and dell, and work and play, to gaze at 
 the strangers. Two of the women were young, 
 and one beautiful. I do not think she could 
 liave been more than fifteen years of age, yet 
 
 I 3 
 
178 
 
 THE GIPSY CAMP. 
 
 f 
 
 I 
 
 THE GIPSY CAMP. 
 
 179 
 
 an infant was at her breast, who, like its 
 mother, was of a dark mahogany colour. The 
 men, again, and especially one of them, who 
 seemed to exercise authority over the rest, were 
 remarkably muscular, athletic-looking fellows, 
 though under, rather than above, the middle 
 height. They were entirely naked, except that 
 each wore a sort of girdle round his loins ; in- 
 deed, neither they nor the ladies seemed at all 
 fastidious in the matter of dress. The attire of 
 the women was a short petticoat, and a sort of 
 shawl which left the arms entirely bare, and 
 hardly covered the bosom. 
 
 When we first entered, the men and half- 
 grown lads were all squatted on the ground. 
 Three fires were burning, beside each of which 
 stood a portable anvil ; and red-hot iron rods, 
 and hammers, wielded with equal strength and 
 address, showed that they were not kept there 
 for mere purposes of show. In fact, the gip- 
 sies seemed to occupy themselves in making 
 nails, of which a large quantity was scattered 
 about the hut. But our presence suspended 
 their labours, and some amusing though very 
 awkward efforts to open a conversation ensued. 
 Alas! they led to no fortunate results. Except 
 the old woman, there was not one among them 
 who understood a word of German; and her 
 
 acquaintance with it seemed to be limited to 
 the begging vocabulary. To say the truth, 
 however, they were all, and especially the ehil- 
 dren, well versed in the arts of solicitation- 
 We were surrounded in a moment by the most 
 importunate solicitors of favours whom I have 
 anywhere encountered; so that before three 
 minutes ran their course, we had been eased of 
 all our copper, and some of the silver coins,, 
 which lay loose in our pockets. 
 
 We had not made much progress towards 
 intimacy, when I espied in one of the corners of 
 the hut a fiddle, and the thought struck me that 
 it might, by possibility, operate as a bond of 
 union between us. I threw off my knapsack, 
 seized the instrument, and began to play. It 
 had only three strings, and was altogether a 
 rude instrument, more especially in my hands, 
 whose skill as a violinist is of the humblest 
 order, yet the sounds brought forth fell upon 
 very willing ears, and the effect produced by 
 them was marvellous. The gipsies — ^} oung and 
 old — shouted, clapped their hands, and jumped 
 up. I motioned to the younger portion of 
 them to dance, and they endeavoured to obey 
 me; but my tune did not fall in with the 
 cadence of their movements, and we made but 
 a sorry affair of it. Ujion this, I handed the 
 
180 
 
 THE GIPSY CAMP. 
 
 instrument to the chief, and a change came 
 over the vision of our dream. He played beau- 
 tifully. The music was wild, to be sure, and 
 irregular ; but each note was clear and harmo- 
 nious, and the dancing, under his management, 
 took a character entirely national. I do not 
 know to what I can compare it; for I have 
 seen nothing in other lands which at all resem- 
 bled it ; but I may state that the movements, 
 which at first were slow, became gradually more 
 lively, till in the end, the figures seemed to 
 glide to and fro with the rapidity of the wind. 
 Arms, heads, and body, all took part, moreover, 
 in the exercise, and all, by their evolutions, 
 added to the grace and harmony of the figure. 
 The gipsies and we being now the best friends 
 in the world, we were invited by signs to be- 
 come their guests at supper. There was a pot 
 boiling near the door of the hut, of which one 
 of the women lifted the lid, and the savoury 
 steam that came forth seemed to indicate that 
 the mess, of whatever materials composed, 
 would soon be ready. But we declined their 
 proffered hospitality. Curiosity was satisfied; 
 and in other respects, the inducements to linger 
 among them were not numerous. I say nothing 
 of the odours which hung upon the stagnant 
 air, nor of the intense heat that oppressed us ; 
 
 ( 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 i 
 
 THE GIPSIES. 
 
 181 
 
 but the living creatures in that tent were innu- 
 merable, and we had no particular desire to 
 appropriate any portion of them to our own 
 use. In a w^ord, the romance of gipsyism had 
 evaporated, and we saw only its real, and per- 
 haps most disgusting features. We accordingly 
 took leave of our sooty acquaintances, and re- 
 sumed our journey. 
 
 I do not know that there is any country in 
 Europe where the genuine gipsy is now to be 
 found, so thoroughly addicted to his original 
 habits, as in Hungary. The Hungarians call 
 these strange people Cygiianis, and speak of them 
 as a distinct community within themselves ; as 
 passing to and fro by tribes, each under its 
 respective chief, and little noticed either by the 
 law or its administrators, except when accused 
 of some crime against the state. They owe 
 fealty to no noble ; they are not possessed any- 
 where of a rood of land, though some of them 
 are rich in horses and cattle, and even gold and 
 silver is abundant with them. The horde which 
 we encountered was evidently a small one, 
 neither could it boast of much wealth ; but the 
 period was recent, since, through the same 
 valley, a caravan had passed, concerning which 
 and its leader, many stories were related to us. 
 The chief, it was said, travelled in a wagon 
 
1 
 
 182 
 
 THE GIPSIES. 
 
 which was drawn by four beautiful horses. He 
 had several wives to his own share, and his 
 tribe amounted to forty men, besides women 
 and children, all of whom paid to him the most 
 unquestioning obedience, even when obedience 
 set them in opposition to the constituted autho- 
 rities. The consequence M^as, that avoiding 
 the vicinity of large towns and villages, where 
 troops might be quartered, they levied contri- 
 butions whithersoever they came, not only from 
 individual travellers, but from whole communi- 
 ties. One of their exploits is thus spoken of. 
 Their chief, somehow or another, contrived to 
 discover that the riechter of a hamlet near which 
 they had pitched their camp, had collected from 
 the peasants one of the taxes that chanced to 
 be due, and was going to forward it on the 
 morrow, to the receiver for the district. The 
 gipsy determined to possess himself of it, and 
 with this view caused two of his people to 
 engage in a quarrel with some peasants, who 
 dragged them before the riechter, and began to 
 accuse them. There was a great deal of alterca- 
 tion, of course, during which others of the gip- 
 sies dropped in, whose business it was, while 
 appearing to take an interest in the proceeding, 
 to ascertain where the riechter kept his treasure. 
 They succeeded in this, and departed. By-and- 
 
 
 t 
 
 
 /: 
 
 
 i 
 
 THE GIPSIES. 
 
 183 
 
 by up came the gipsy chief, all bedizened with 
 gold lace, in his carriage and four, to demand 
 his people. His lordly port, and still more, a 
 knowledge that he had fifty men to back him, 
 exceedingly embarrassed the riechter, whose 
 sense of duty urged him to detain the delin- 
 quents, but whose personal fears pointed in a 
 different direction. Of course, the issue could 
 not long be doubtful. The two men were set 
 at liberty, and then began a fresh altercation ; 
 for they, in their turn, insisted that the peasants 
 should be flogged, and themselves compensated 
 for the wrong which had been put upon them. 
 All this, as I need scarcely remark, served but 
 as a blind by which to divert the attention of 
 the villagers from what was going on elsewhere. 
 Three of the most active of the tribe, under the 
 direction of the spies, made their way mean- 
 while into the back part of the house. The 
 chest containing the treasure was seized, the 
 robbers stole quietly away with their booty, and 
 the chief, advertised of the fact by a signal 
 previously agreed upon, became, all at once, 
 more moderate in his demands. The result 
 need hardly be told. An apology from the 
 riechter was accepted, and the gipsy troop were 
 far beyond the reach of pursuit, ere the unfor- 
 
184 
 
 185 
 
 THE GIPSIES. 
 
 tunate magistrate had ascertained the extent of 
 
 his own loss. 
 
 So much for a gipsy tribe, with a gohl-laced 
 chief at its head ; or rather, so much for one of 
 the legends which are told of that tribe. Of 
 other tribes, I learned, that they are often so 
 degraded, as to live like beasts (ff prey, on the 
 veriest garbage ; that when hunger presses them 
 sore, a dead horse is a treasure to them ; and 
 that being universally distrusted, they venture 
 as little as possible into the haunts of men. 
 Yet when they do come, they are not entirely 
 useless members of society. The Hungarians 
 are fond of music, and the Cygnanis almost 
 universally cultivate that art; and I had fre- 
 quent opportunities of observing, that in the 
 court-yards of hotels, at watering-places, and in 
 public gardens, whatever minstrels you find are 
 of gipsy descent. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 KREUTZ. — THE RUINED CASTLE. MR. CRAWFORD AND 
 
 THE WALMODEN CUIRASSIERS. THE BISHOP's PARTY. 
 
 MARCH TO SHARNOWITZ.— SHEMNITZ. — THE MINES. — 
 AUSTRIAN CAVALRY. CUSTOMS OF THE ARMY. 
 
 Our course, during the remainder of the day, 
 continued to lie through the same valley, which 
 gained, rather than lost, in point of beauty, by 
 the gradual opening out of the hills on either 
 side. It was clear, indeed, that we were ap- 
 proaching the confines of the corn country. 
 For though the mountains to the right and left 
 seemed, for a time, to grow more bold in their 
 character, in front, the strath wound onwards 
 with a still increasing extent. Moreover, the 
 Graan became wider and more sullen at every 
 mile in advance, even where his banks were 
 surmounted by rocks and sloping eminences ; 
 Avhile the wood grew richer and deeper, and 
 was composed of more massive trees than any 
 which, as yet, we had encountered. Last of all, 
 the vine, of which, for a season, we had lost 
 sight, re-appeared ; a sure sign that we should 
 enter, by-and-by, upon the plains of Lower Hun- 
 
186 
 
 KREUTZ. 
 
 gary. I cannot say tliat we regretted this. Of 
 the Slavonians, and their wild settlements, we 
 had now beheld enough ; we desired to become 
 acquainted with the Hungarians,— properly so 
 called,— and with their cities. 
 
 We reached Kreutz about six o'clock in the 
 evening, and found that the corporal had not 
 been inattentive to our wishes. An excellent 
 quarter was provided for us, where, in due time, 
 supper was served. Having settled this point, 
 and according to custom, changed our apparel, 
 we strolled out, that we might take, while yet 
 the daylight lingered, a survey of the exterior 
 of things. We found that though, in point of 
 size, Kreutz be little more than a village, it 
 gives a title to one of the Hungarian bishop- 
 rics; and that the bishop, who resides here, is 
 owner of the place, as well as of a large tract 
 of country round it. Moreover, evidences of 
 the extent of his authority were furnished by 
 the appearance of several peasants, one of them 
 a woman, who were sweeping the court-yard of 
 the palace, when we looked into it, with logs 
 and chains upon their ankles. Let me, how- 
 ever, do justice to the ecclesiastical establish- 
 ment at Kreutz. I have not seen in Hungary 
 a feudal village throughout which the signs of 
 content, and of the absence of griping poverty. 
 
 VISIT TO A RUIN. 
 
 187 
 
 were more manifest ; and the affectionate defe- 
 rence which its inhabitants appeared to pay to 
 the inmates of the palace, satisfied me, that in 
 the present instance, at all events, a churchman 
 was not necessarily a bad landlord. 
 
 Being somewhat fatigued with our exertions 
 throughout the day, we went early to bed, and 
 rising next morning refreshed and vigorous, pre- 
 pared to make the most of it. We knew that 
 we should meet our countryman and his brother- 
 officers here by-and-by, but their arrival was 
 not anticipated till noon at the earliest, and we 
 could not afford to waste five precious hours 
 within doors. Accordingly, having taken note, as 
 we came along, of a ruin near the village, which, on 
 account both of its extent and situation, seemed 
 to claim our notice, we resolved to devote the 
 space which was now at our command, to an 
 examination of it. A pleasant walk we had, 
 crossing the Graan by a wooden bridge, and fol- 
 lowing a path which conducted us through 
 some rich meadows, from which the river flowed 
 past us with a broad and rapid current ; and 
 there were abundant traces of fertility and in- 
 dustry everywhere. We passed a farm-house 
 too, just such an edifice as one would expect to 
 see standing alone in Somersetshire or Middle- 
 sex, an extensive pile of brickwork, low, and 
 
tl 
 
 188 
 
 THE RUINED CASTLE. 
 
 THE RUINED CASTLE. 
 
 189 
 
 inlaid with beams of timber, having a court- 
 yard and offices complete, as if for the accom- 
 modation of an English yeoman. It was the 
 first structure of the kind which had challenged 
 our regards since we quitted home, and it eli- 
 cited, in a proportionate degree, our admiration. 
 By-and-by, a straggling hamlet, near which some 
 extensive vineyards were spread out, greeted us 
 at a fine bend in the river, and then the ruin was 
 before us. It occupied the brow of a sloping 
 green hill, which protruded, as it w^ere, from 
 the chain of mountains, and was connected 
 with them by a long natural terrace, extremely 
 narrow at the ridge. A more commanding 
 position for a baronial residence, in times when 
 the art of war was different from what it is 
 now% cannot be conceived. It was nowhere 
 overlooked for purposes of attack ; and could 
 be approached only in the sight of the garrison. 
 
 We climbed the hill,— a work of some diffi- 
 culty and labour even to us, and after various 
 fruitless efforts to penetrate through one of the 
 breaches, were forced to make the circuit of the 
 whole, and to seek out the principal gateway. 
 It looked towards the mountains, was defended, 
 as is usual in such edifices, by a barbacan, and 
 conducted into a passage between two walls, of 
 a width barely sufficient to permit the advance 
 
 of three men abreast. For the rest, w^e found 
 this castle in the interior, as it had appeared to 
 be when examined from without, as good a spe- 
 cimen of a warlike chieftain's hold as can be 
 imagined. The remains of the chapel w^ere, in 
 particular, very beautiful, with their tall and 
 elegant Gothic pillars, here and there a niche 
 still standing, and a fragment of the very altar 
 left. But alders, and the wild briers, and nettles 
 in profuse crops, were waving rankly among 
 them; through which great masses of fallen 
 masonry rendered it very difficult for us to push 
 our way. : 
 
 There are no circumstances under w^hicli the 
 spirit of reverie becomes so naturally dominant 
 within us as when we are loitering amid objects 
 which speak to us of the might of days that 
 have passed away, and, as a necessary conse- 
 quence, of the vanity of all earthly greatness. 
 How melancholy, yet how instructive it was to 
 scare the wild pigeon from her nest, w^hich she 
 had built beneath the curve of one of these 
 dilapidated pillars. How sad to watch the pro- 
 gress of the lizard as he glided past, and sought 
 his hole beneath the hearth of what had once 
 been the great kitchen. It is true that we 
 w^ere without the means of linking the scene 
 around us with any particular portion of the 
 
 4' 
 
t'l 
 
 I. 
 
 i n 
 
 190 
 
 RETURN TO KREUTZ. 
 
 VISIT TO THE BISHOP. 
 
 191 
 
 glory of Other years, for of the very name of 
 the place, as well as of the family >vhich used 
 to inhabit there, we were ignorant. But 
 visions of knights, and dames, and minstrels 
 gay, rose before the eye of fancy, only that they 
 might fade again like the images of a dream 
 which may have connected us, vividly and pow- 
 erfully for a moment, with a state of existence 
 higher than our own. I plead guilty to the 
 crime of having scribbled some forty or fifty 
 verses with my pencil upon the wall of a recess ; 
 but the reader need not take the alarm, they 
 are not going to be inflicted upon him, for I 
 have entirely forgotten them. 
 
 We lingered amid these scenes a good half 
 hour, looking forth from every accessible point 
 on the noble landscape, that spread itself out 
 beneath them, and then retraced our steps to 
 Kreutz. The cuirassiers had arrived. Our 
 countryman met us near the head of the bridge, 
 and we became intimate and particular friends 
 in a moment. I hope that, in reference to this 
 as well as other intimacies formed during that 
 ramble, the time may come when they shall be 
 
 renewed. 
 
 We had all along intended to pay our respects 
 to the bishop, and with this view had looked 
 in at the palace-gate as we passed in the morn- 
 
 ing, but the prelate was then at mass, and we 
 could not see him. Under the escort of Mr. 
 Crawford we now repeated the attempt, which 
 proved more successful. We were conducted 
 by a domestic, in a hussar uniform, up a hand- 
 some staircase, and along an extensive corridor, 
 which ran round the whole extent of the build- 
 ing; till, arriving at a large folding door, it 
 was thrown open, and we found ourselves in 
 what appeared to be a spacious ante-room. 
 Two priests, in their cassocks, were in waiting 
 here, who received us very politely, and sent 
 an attendant out of livery to inform the bishop 
 of our arrival. He did not leave us long to be 
 entertained by his chaplains ; for a third per- 
 sonage, apparently a maitre d'hotel, came forth 
 almost immediately, and requested us to follow 
 him. 
 
 There was a good deal of state about the 
 episcopal establishment, and an air of dignity 
 even in the palace. The latter, a square pile, 
 enclosing a court-yard of some hundred and fifty 
 feet diameter, appeared built rather for conve- 
 vience than for show, — that is to say, it was of 
 the date, perhaps, of a century ago, with large 
 windows and cornices, and exhibited altogether 
 a fair specimen of the Italian style of architec- 
 ture, as it was then applied to the residences of 
 
192 
 
 THE bishop's palace. 
 
 INTRODUCED TO THE BISHOP. 
 
 193 
 
 the nobility. The chapel, which occupied one 
 side of the square, was approached by a flight 
 of broad steps, and had its porch, and statues, 
 and iron gate,— the latter profusely gilded; 
 while elsewhere round the basement ran a 
 series of cloisters, not arched, but roofed in 
 with solid beams of timber. Moreover there 
 was a lodge, or guard-house, about which some 
 armed retainers were lounging ; a prison, which 
 I did not visit, but which was pointed out to 
 me ; gardens, disposed into alleys ; enclosures, 
 grottoes, fish-ponds, and every incentive to re- 
 creation, as well physical as mental ; and men 
 and women employed to keep them in order, 
 some of them with chains round their ankles. 
 Of one of their incentives to recreation, I am 
 bound to make especial mention, because it 
 seems to illustrate the sort of taste which the 
 bishops of Kreutz sometimes cherish. There 
 was in a particular part of the garden an alley, 
 perhaps twenty or twenty-five yards long. At 
 one extremity stood a summer-house, at the 
 other a pole, having a popinjay, or figure of 
 a cock, fastened to its upper extremity ; and it 
 was the bishop's practice to amuse himself by 
 shooting at that mark through the window of 
 the summer-house, — not with a rifle, but with 
 a cross-bow and bolts of wood. 
 
 i^ 
 
 The person who was now our guide led us 
 across a vestibule, and through a door, into the 
 apartment where the bishop was sitting. It 
 was not large, but both the fitting-up and the 
 furnishing were handsome ; that is to say, the 
 floor was of highly polished oak, and the chairs 
 and sofas were covered with rich tapestry. 
 The bishop himself, an old man, arrayed in the 
 tippet and gold chain of his order, bade us very 
 heartily welcome, and would have fain per- 
 suaded us to dine with him at noon ; but this, 
 having made other arrangements, we declined, 
 though we promised to be his guests at supper- 
 time. Accordingly, after sitting a few minutes 
 with him, and being introduced to his niece and 
 one or two dignitaries of his cathedral, we took 
 our leave, that we might form an acquaintance 
 with Mr. Crawford's brother officers, and spend 
 in their society the remainder of the day. 
 
 I took occasion, while sketching with a rapid 
 hand the nature of the Hungarian constitution, 
 to state, that the bishops of Hungary take rank 
 with the highest order of nobles, and sit and 
 vote in meetings of the estates with the mag- 
 nates. I have now to add, that the revenues 
 of the sees are all of them ample, and some 
 almost princely. The archbishop of Graan, for 
 example, the primate of Hungary, enjoys an 
 
 VOL. III. ^ 
 
194 
 
 EPISCOPAL REVENUES. 
 
 SUP WITH THE BISHOP. 
 
 195 
 
 annual income of thirty-five thousand pounds 
 sterling; the bishopric of Agram is esti- 
 mated at thirteen thousand ; that of Eslau 
 at eight thousand. The Bishop of Kreutz 
 is, I believe, the poorest of his order; yet 
 his see returns him a revenue of twelve 
 thousand florins, — that is, twelve hundred 
 pounds sterling per annum. It must not, how- 
 ever, be supposed, that the bishops are left to 
 the quiet and exclusive enjoyment of their 
 wealth. Besides that the king takes care, as 
 has elsewhere been shown, to appropriate, at the 
 demise of each, the larger portion of what may 
 have been accumulated during the bishop's life- 
 time, there is a burden imposed upon the sees 
 of a peculiar nature, which is not, under any 
 circumstances, rendered more light than need 
 be. Strange to say, the bishoprics are taxed, — 
 a solitary case in reference to the estates of the 
 nobles, — for the purpose of keeping the prin- 
 cipal fortresses in Hungary in repair. Neither 
 is this done occasionally, as the works may have 
 fallen into decay, but year by year a demand is 
 made upon them, and the deduction thereby 
 effected from the episcopal incomes is, I am 
 assured, very considerable. I say nothing of 
 other expenses incident to the stations of the 
 individuals, for these are to be counted upon 
 
 ' I 
 
 j 
 
 everywhere. Our own Bishop of Durham, for 
 example, so long as the honours of the palatinate 
 belonged to him, did not find that his revenues, 
 ample as they were, accumulated on his hands. 
 And the hospitalities of the Hungarian bishops, 
 if they be less costly in detail, must, from their 
 very extent, press with almost equal weight. 
 
 We supped that night, according to engage- 
 ment, with the Bishop of Kreutz. There was 
 great abundance at his table, as well as a large 
 assortment of guests, including many ladies, a 
 dozen, at least, of ecclesiastics, civilians of all 
 degrees, and Mr. Crawford and ourselves ; but 
 I could detect no symptoms of profusion, nor 
 the slightest arrogance of unnecessary state. 
 The old man took his place in the centre of the 
 board, and did the honours heartily, while his 
 friends paid the best possible compliment to 
 the viands, by causing them to disappear with 
 amazing rapidity. Here, however, I stop. I 
 have no more right to violate the confidence of 
 private life by detailing what passed in the 
 family of a bishop, than if I were speaking of a 
 layman. Enough is done when I state that 
 our conversation, if not very intellectual, was 
 abundantly animated; that we carried it on 
 partly in German, partly in Latin ; that we had 
 quite as many questions to answer, as answers 
 
 K 2 
 
196 
 
 MARCH TO SHAKNOWITZ 
 
 to receive ; and that tlie information, commu- 
 nicated by Mr. Crawford, that I was the son of 
 an English (he ought to have said a Scottish) 
 bishop,°in no degree affected the good humour 
 of our entertainers. " There are some excel- 
 lent men among the English bishops," said a 
 dignitary who sat opposite to me ; and I am 
 bo°und to return the compliment, by avowing 
 my belief that the Hungarian bench can boast 
 
 its good men also. 
 
 We slept that night at the inn, and soon 
 after dawn were roused by the trumpets of the 
 cuirassiers sounding to boot and saddle. It 
 had been agreed that as our faces were turned 
 in the same direction, we should accompany 
 the troops at least for a stage or two ; and my 
 friends having kindly undertaken to supply me 
 with a horse, my young companion transferred 
 himself, with the baggage, into Mr. Crawford's 
 carriage. Accordingly a charger was brought 
 round to the door, which I mounted, and the 
 march began. How strange, yet how natural, 
 were the feelings that came over me that day. 
 I could have fancied myself in early youth again, 
 with other and brighter years rolled back; 
 when the present was a season of high and 
 constant excitement, and over the future was 
 ehed the halo,— which was not destined to fulfil 
 
 t 
 
 WITH THE WALMODEN CUIRASSIERS. 197 
 
 its promise. For the march of this little body 
 of Austrian cavalry was, to the most minute 
 particular, warlike and orderly. The advanced 
 guard was thrown out, as if an enemy had been 
 in our front ; a rear guard separated itself from 
 the main body, to provide against an attack 
 from behind, while connecting patrols and 
 flankers were not neglected, nor any other of 
 the precautions usually adopted when a recon- 
 noissance is to be pushed forward. Moreover, 
 the scenery through which we moved was quite 
 in keeping with our style of travel. On our 
 ridit the Graan held his course, with a broad 
 and sullen current ; on our left, though sepa- 
 rated from us by a considerable extent of plain, 
 were the mountains ; which, closing in here and 
 there, and being met by portions of the forest, 
 produced just the sort of defiles, in threading 
 which it would have been necessary to keep all 
 our wits about us. And, as if to complete the 
 delusion, — as if to carry me back to the period 
 when it was my daily fortune to see the sun- 
 beams reflected back as they were now, from 
 morion and casque, and bayonet and sabre, — 
 the troopers began, all at once, to sing ; — one 
 or two voices taking the lead, so as to give 
 the time and air, and the rest joining, by- 
 and-by, in most harmonious concert. It would 
 
198 
 
 SHARNOWITZ. 
 
 be but the repetition of a truism if I were to 
 say that there is no music comparable to that 
 of the human voice, and I must be permitted 
 to add that the human voice is never heard 
 to such advantage as under circumstances 
 similar to those by which I was then sur- 
 rounded. 
 
 We had started in good time, and as the 
 Austrians never overwork their cavalry by 
 making the stages during a peaceful march 
 unnecessarily long, we reached Sharnowitz^ 
 our halting-place for the day, at ^one o'clock. 
 It is a prettily situated village on the banks of 
 the Graan, and in the mouth of an opening 
 among the hills, which have closed in, for some 
 miles previously, on the valley, and render it 
 here very narrow. I need not, however, pause 
 to describe either the place or the manner in 
 which, till dinner-time, we there amused our- 
 selves. Our English fishing-tackle was called 
 into play, and the Graan, as well as one of the 
 tributary streams which fell into him, beside 
 the village, were forced to render up some of 
 their occupants,— of which neither the worth 
 nor the weight were remarkable. 
 
 Sharnowitz or Zsarocz (for such is the ap- 
 proved method of spelling the word,) is situated 
 on one side of a range of bold hills, among 
 
 -x: 
 
 SCHEMNITZ. 
 
 199 
 
 which lies Schemnitz, the principal station in 
 what are called the mining districts of Hungary. 
 We were naturally desirous of seeing a place 
 concerning which we had heard a great deal ; 
 and as our young countryman happened to be, 
 like ourselves, a stranger to its locality, we 
 agreed that it would be a pleasant arrangement 
 were we to visit it together. Accordingly, 
 having procured a couple of ponies, by the con- 
 venient process of forstban, we harnessed them 
 to Mr. Crawford's carriage, and about six o'clock 
 in the evening set out. The drive was in every 
 respect a delightful one. To be sure the road 
 was steep, and here and there indifferent ; for 
 after traversing the narrow strath, it took a 
 direction up the very face of the hills ; but of 
 mountain scenery the eye never grows weary, 
 and we found it here in perfection. There was 
 one point of view in particular, where we looked 
 down upon a small melancholy lake, — a pool of 
 water sunk so completely among overhanging 
 rocks and forests, that the sun's rays can never 
 reach it, which struck me as being equal to any 
 thing which I had yet encountered. Neither 
 did the first appearance of Schemnitz itself 
 disappoint us. Almost immediately on gaining 
 the ridge of the mountain, we beheld the town 
 crowded into a basin at our feet,— with here 
 
 \ 
 
*m.^4 i. ^m < t^' 
 
 200 
 
 MINING IN HUNGARY. 
 
 MINING IN HUNGARY. 
 
 201 
 
 and there a mass of building climbing up the 
 face of a hill, and temples and shrines crowning 
 the eminences above them; and as the last 
 rays of a setting sun fell upon, and lighted up 
 the panorama, I am bound to say that the effect 
 was very fine. We stopped the horses a few 
 minutes, that we might admire it, and then 
 drove to the hotel. 
 
 I need scarcely pause to state that, among 
 the hills round Schemnitz are found gold, silver, 
 lead, and copper ; and that the galleries w liicli 
 have been excavated run to an amazing extent 
 through the mountains. Some of them, too, 
 are of a date so remote, that it is impossible to 
 trace them to their beginnings ; for we can say 
 of them only that they were WTought in the 
 time of the Romans. Of others the authentic 
 records carry us back through eight centuries ; 
 while each successive age, from that period 
 downwards, has witnessed some addition to 
 them. It would appear, however, that the zeal 
 of the miners has not been adequately rewarded, 
 inasmuch as both gold and silver are becoming, 
 from year to year, more scarce ; indeed the 
 quantity of the former metal now^ procured, 
 hardly covers the expense of digging for it, and 
 the smelting and coining are a dead loss. But 
 in searching for gold, both silver and copper 
 
 i 
 
 
 are found, so that the work still goes on ; while 
 the hope is not yet laid aside, that by-and-by 
 some fresh veins of the sister ore will be dis- 
 covered. 
 
 In Hungary, as in Germany, all minerals 
 found beneath the earth's surface belong to the 
 crown, and all mining establishments are of 
 royal foundation and management. Not that 
 private adventurers are hindered from engaging 
 in similar undertakings as a speculation ; for 
 even at Schemnitz the period is not distant 
 since a large portion of the work was executed 
 upon contract. But here, as well as in Saxony^ 
 mining is regarded as an art, the cultivation of 
 which it is the business of the government, by 
 all possible means, to promote. Hence, we 
 have in both countries seminaries or schools 
 for miners; such as that of Freyberg, near 
 Dresden, and Schemnitz, in Hungary. The 
 latter is on a scale much more extended than 
 the former. At its head is the Oberst Kau- 
 mer Graff, an officer of exalted rank in the 
 imperial service, who enjoys a liberal salary,, 
 and has an official residence assigned him ; 
 while each mine has its Bergrath, or head man. 
 and each shaft its Oberkiinst Meister, or super- 
 intendent of machinery. The operative miners, 
 again, who w^ear a particular uniform, and hold 
 
 . *».-< ^- 
 
 K 3 
 
202 
 
 THE MINES 
 
 their heads exceedingly high in their respective 
 stations, pursue their labours under an organized 
 responsibility, than -svhich that of an army can- 
 not be more complete. Indeed, the spirit of 
 the establishment is altogether military, inso- 
 much that you need but put arms into the 
 hands of the people, and you would have a 
 military force in a moment. 
 
 The stranger who may be desirous of visiting 
 these mines, will repair first to the residence of 
 the Bergrath ; where, after having sundry spe- 
 cimens of minerals exhibited to him, he will be 
 supplied with a miner's dress. It is not the 
 handsome dark green garb which may have 
 attracted his notice while traversing the streets, 
 but trousers and coat of coarse materials ; with 
 a leathern apron so buckled on as that it shall 
 shelter the wearer, not in front, as may be 
 anticipated, but behind. Thus clothed, with a 
 high cap on his head, he proceeds to the mouth 
 of the gallery, where three or four men, each 
 with a lamp in his hand, stand ready to attend 
 him ; and he is by them conducted, amid all 
 the customary alternations of wet and dry, and 
 rough and smooth, through lab}Tinths that 
 appear to be endless. As he advances, ma- 
 chinery is pointed out to him here and there, — 
 wheels, and cylinders, and all the other instru- 
 
 AT SCHEMNITZ. 
 
 203 
 
 . 
 
 f. 
 
 ments by which mining operations are carried 
 on ; but to describe which in detail would be 
 as little interesting to the general reader, as it 
 would be wearisome in the extreme to myself. 
 Finally, after descending by ladders into an 
 abyss deeper than before, where the whole 
 process of digging, and clearing away water, 
 and ventilating, and propping-up, is explained, 
 he returns to his first level, and discovers, to his 
 surprise, that it is very skilfully arranged as a 
 railroad. It is by means of this line, and of the 
 wagons that ply upon it, that the ore as it is 
 procured passes on to the smelting houses ; and 
 the civility of the miners leads them to enlarge 
 its sphere of usefulness, by rendering it instru- 
 mental to the convenience of their visitors. In 
 one of these vehicles you are requested to take 
 a §eat ; and then, by the merest touch of the 
 hand, a workman pushing from behind, you are 
 hurried, at a good round rate, over a space of at 
 least three-quarters of an English mile. Thus 
 driven along, you catch, by-and-by, the glimmer 
 of daylight at a distance ; and, lo ! at quite a dif- 
 ferent part of the mountain from that by which 
 you made your ingress, the mine may be said to 
 eject you. 
 
 Besides the mines themselves, the model- 
 room, where miniature specimens of the diffe- 
 
204 
 
 THE MINING SCHOOL 
 
 f- 
 
 rent kinds of machinery in use are exhibited, 
 will amply repay the labour of a visit. It is 
 not large, neither are the models numerous ; 
 and even my imperfect acquaintance with me- 
 chanics sufficed to convince me that, in many 
 respects, the Hungarian engineers have yet 
 much to learn ; but the implements themselves 
 are very neatly constructed, and the officer in 
 charge of them appears every way competent 
 to explain their uses. I cannot say so much in 
 commendation of the museum, or of the col- 
 lection of minerals with which it is enriched. 
 The fact, indeed, I believe to be, that there is 
 no great variety in the mineral productions of 
 the district in and around Schemnitz ; and as 
 the collector has not travelled beyond his 
 own immediate neighbourhood for the purpose 
 of enriching his cabinet, a cursory glance 
 is all that a mere visitor will care to bestow 
 upon it. 
 
 Nothing can be more liberal than the foot- 
 ing on which the mining school or college 
 at Schemnitz is conducted. It is, as I have 
 said, a royal foundation, where every person 
 who has obtained the sanction of the Board 
 of Mines in Vienna, (and I believe that it 
 has never been refused,) may have all the 
 practical information which works so exten- 
 
 OF SCHEMNITZ. 
 
 205 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 sive can afford. A complete course of study 
 occupies three whole years, which must be 
 attended to by such as desire employment 
 as officers in mines ; while the examinations 
 which occur, both during the progress, and 
 at the termination of the course, are said 
 to be severe; but amateurs are not thereby 
 excluded. It is competent for them either to 
 go forward to the end of the term, or to quit 
 the seminary at any moment when their own 
 convenience may require. The subjects, again, 
 on which lectures are delivered, are chemistry, 
 mineralogy, mathematics, mechanics, natural 
 philosophy in most of its branches, plain draw- 
 ing, mapping, the construction and use of 
 machinery, as well as botany, and every other 
 species of knowledge which is connected with 
 the growth and preservation of timber. This 
 science, which the Germans call Forstwissen- 
 schaft, is of great importance in countries which 
 depend for their fuel entirely on the forests ; and 
 it is doubly important in the mining districts, 
 where, in the construction of shafts, and the 
 preservation of galleries, so much wood is con- 
 sumed. Moreover, the students are admitted 
 to the free use of the laboratory, and have con- 
 stant access to all that may be in progress, both 
 in the mines, and in the smelting and prepara- 
 
 ' h' 
 
206 
 
 SCHEMNITZ. 
 
 KOESINTZ. 
 
 207 
 
 tion of the ore. They are encouraged, likewise, 
 in making collections of minerals for their own 
 use, though prohibited, on pain of expulsion, 
 from selling what they collect; and as they 
 generally form themselves into little groups or 
 bands for the purpose, the advantages which 
 they derive from the practice are considerable. I 
 made particular inquiry into the personal habits 
 of these young men, both in their public and 
 private proceedings; and it is but an act of 
 justice to record, that they were everywhere 
 well spoken of. Concerning the exact num- 
 bers who belong to their body, I cannot speak ; 
 but it seemed to be considerable, and the ten- 
 dency, as I was assured, is towards a constant 
 
 » 
 
 increase. 
 
 Of the town itself, I have not much to 
 say. Scattered along the side of the moun- 
 tain, its streets are all steep and irregular ; for 
 the very market-place lies upon the slope of 
 an inclined plane; nor is there, within its 
 compass, a single building which the traveller 
 would care to examine. Yet is the general 
 effect striking, and some shrines and temples 
 with which the pious have surmounted the 
 conical hills that look down upon it, pre- 
 sented a handsome appearance as seen from 
 a distance. Like Kremnitz, it is a Ger- 
 
 /] 
 
 /I 
 
 \ 
 
 f 
 
 man colony of standing long anterior to the 
 union of the crowns of Austria and Hungary, 
 and its inhabitants still speak the language 
 w^hich their ancestors brought with them, when 
 centuries ago they sought a home in the land 
 of strangers. 
 
 A morning well spent having sufficed to 
 bring these matters under our observation, w^e 
 returned after a late dinner to our quarter at 
 Shamowitz. Our friends, the cuirassiers, w^ere 
 still there, for the day which we occupied so 
 profitably, had by them been devoted to refresh- 
 ment ; and on the morrow, our march towards 
 the low country was resumed. It carried us, 
 pretty much in the order of the movement from 
 Kreutz, to Koesintz, — a village more extensive 
 than either of those which we had previously 
 occupied, and beside which there was a small 
 cavalry barrack, or rather chateau, fitted up by 
 government, for the accommodation of a squad- 
 ron of horse. Here we found another strong 
 troop established, with a considerable accession 
 to the number of officers ; and at the head of 
 all, a very gentlemanlike and good soldier. Lieu- 
 tenant-colonel Schaffcoach. Of the same hospi- 
 tality which had been extended to us heretofore, 
 we were again made to partake. An apartment 
 in the barrack was allotted to us ; we lived with 
 
208 
 
 THE AUSTRIAN ARMY. 
 
 the officers as members of their mess, and spent 
 that day and a portion of the next, very agree- 
 ably in their company. 
 
 I do not know whether my good fortune 
 directed me to form an acquaintance with the 
 very best regiment in the Austrian service, but 
 I am bound to state, that I have nowhere en- 
 countered a finer set of young men, than those 
 whom I met at dinner this day. They were all 
 gentlemen, in the best sense of the term, yet 
 soldiers too, — well-bred, well-informed, enthu- 
 siasts in their profession, and just as ready 
 to communicate as to receive information, as 
 well in reference to military affairs, as on sub- 
 jects of more general interest. I could gather, 
 indeed, from what passed, that the line of dis- 
 tinction between the cavalry and infantry service, 
 in the Austrian army, is very broadly marked. 
 The regiments of infantry being quartered 
 chiefly in towns, where large garrisons are kept 
 up, and hospitality is little dispensed, seldom 
 come into collision, at least in the inferior ranks, 
 with the aristocracy of the land. The cavalry, 
 on the contrary, as it is scattered through vil- 
 lages and hamlets, wherever the convenience 
 of forage may invite, affords the very best op- 
 portunities for a species of intercourse, without 
 which men's manners become almost unavoid- 
 
 THE CAVALRY. 
 
 209 
 
 <•' 
 
 K' 
 
 1 
 
 s4 
 
 <• 
 
 I 
 
 ably rough and awkward. At every country- 
 house, at least in Hungary, an officer is a wel- 
 come guest ; and if he contribute, by his know- 
 ledge of the world, and the spirit with which 
 he joins them in the dance and promenade, to 
 amuse the ladies of the family, he receives 
 from them in return, a benefit much more 
 important, — a refinement in tastes and bearing 
 which never comes except from having mixed 
 while young, in the society of right-minded and 
 well-bred women. Hence, as well as because 
 the service is attended with heavier expenses, 
 you find that the cavalry of the Austrian empire 
 is almost exclusively oflScered by men of family ; 
 the infantry, by a more mixed class, in which 
 the aristocracy do not preponderate. 
 
 A regiment of cavalry in the Austrian service 
 has besides its proprietor (always a general offi- 
 cer), a colonel, a lieutenant-colonel, and a major ; 
 to each of whom is committed, in an especial 
 manner, a squadron, three squadrons composing 
 the corps. When all are united, which occurs 
 only for two months in the year, the colonel 
 assumes, of course, the general command ; while 
 the troops lie scattered through their quarters, 
 each field-officer is responsible for the eflSciency 
 of his own squadron. In like manner, each 
 squadron consists of two troops, and each troop 
 
210 
 
 THE CADETS. 
 
 of two half-troops, — the troop having at its head 
 one first captain, one second captain, with two 
 first, and as many second lieutenants. Its or- 
 ganization, both when united and disi)ersed, 
 agrees exactly with that of the squadron. If 
 brought together, the first captain is responsible 
 for the whole; if broken up, he shares that 
 responsibility with the second captain. And to 
 render the system perfect, both first and second 
 lieutenants have their respective sections, over 
 which their control is absolute. Thus from the 
 very outset of his career an oflScer is accustomed 
 to exercise the power, and wield the responsi- 
 bility, of separate command ; — an order of things 
 which seems of all others the best calculated 
 to confirm his moral courage, as well as to 
 sharpen his faculties. 
 
 Every gentleman enters the Austrian service 
 as a cadet, and his promotion depends not only 
 on the chance of vacancies, but on the degree 
 of intelligence and military capacity which he 
 may exhibit. I found, for example, that our 
 friend Mr. Crawford had served as a cadet little 
 more than a year and a-half, whereas another 
 countryman of ours had been five years in that 
 station, and bade fair, if not sent about his busi- 
 ness, to continue in it five years longer. Then 
 comes promotion by [seniority in the corps, or by 
 
 THE PRIVATES. 
 
 211 
 
 the exercise of powerful influence out of it ; of 
 which the effects are to render the ascent to 
 the rank of a field-oflScer a very tedious affair ; 
 to the more elevated steps in the ladder, both 
 easy and rapid. Lieutenant-colonel Schaffcoach, 
 for example, had served in the War of Libera- 
 tion as a captain, and had not attained his 
 majority till the year 1835. But less than two 
 years had advanced him from the rank of major 
 to that of lieutenant-colonel, and he anticipated, 
 ere two years more were gone, that he should 
 become colonel-in-chief. 
 
 Meanwhile the privates, gathered in by the 
 species of conscription which was once universal 
 throughout Germany, have not much to expect. 
 They are furnished in the mass by the proprie- 
 tors on whose lands they reside, and must go 
 when the lot falls upon them. They are not 
 however, as was formerly the case in Prussia, 
 soldiers for life. On the contrary, the conscript 
 is enrolled for fourteen years only, at the expi- 
 ration of which he is entitled to his discharge ; 
 but if he accept it he receives no pension, 
 unless, indeed, he be quite disabled. He merely 
 goes back to his village, and his daily toil, with 
 habits very little suited to either. If, on the 
 other hand, he desire to continue with his 
 regiment, and the commanding officer be in- 
 
212 
 
 PAY AND ALLOWANCES. 
 
 clined to accede to his wishes, the tender of his 
 service* is accepted. But it is distinctly under- 
 stood, that he can never earn a claim to a pen- 
 sion. Whoso receives such, receives it as a 
 free boon from his sovereign ; and it rarely ex- 
 ceeds five kreutzers, or two pence sterling, per 
 day. I saw with the Walmoden cuirassiers, a 
 Serjeant who had worn harness for half a cen- 
 tury, and was then seventy years old. He was 
 proposing, by-and-by, to retire, with the esteem 
 and regard of all his officers. Yet even his 
 pension, and of a jDension he was already as- 
 sured, would come to him, not as the merited 
 reward of a lifetime spent in camp and bar- 
 racks, but as a mark of his sovereign's favour. 
 
 On parade, and in all matters of duty, the 
 discipline of the Austrian army is very rigid ; 
 as soon as the parade is dismissed, the officers 
 meet, as among ourselves, like brothers. They 
 have no regimental messes ; that is to say, the 
 regiment is destitute of an establishment of 
 plate, cooks, and servants, to which we in 
 England are accustomed. But the officers of 
 each dine together at a hotel, if such be acces- 
 sible, — in one of the barrack rooms, when, as 
 was the case in Koesintz, hotels may be 
 wanting. The pay of the junior ranks is very 
 poor. I believe that a second lieutenant re- 
 
 FINE APPEARANCE OF THE TROOPS. 
 
 213 
 
 ceives about two pounds ten shillings a month ; 
 but a first captain was represented to me as 
 independent, and the ranks above his as afford- . 
 ing more than a competency to such as had 
 attained to them. The men are wretchedly 
 remunerated, as far as a money payment is 
 concerned. But they have a good allowance 
 of provisions, and they are not charged for one 
 shred of their clothing. 
 
 I had seen in Prague several regiments of 
 infantry under arms, and was much struck by 
 the fine appearance of the men, which neither 
 their awkward clothing, nor the extreme slow- 
 ness of their movements, could seriously affect. 
 This day, after dinner. Colonel Schaffcoach was 
 good enough to take out the troop which we 
 found in quarters on our arrival, and to ma- 
 noeuvre it for my edification. The men were, 
 like the infantry soldiers, magnificent. Their 
 dress, likewise, the white coat surmounted by a 
 black cuirass, which protects only the chest, 
 and is bullet-proof, — the white breeches, long 
 jack-boots, brass helmet with a low crown, and 
 straight strong sword, set them off to the 
 greatest advantage. I think, too, that relieving 
 all, except four in each half troop, from the load 
 and incumbrance of the carabine, is judicious ; 
 because heavy cavalry are supposed never to be 
 
214 
 
 THE HORSES. 
 
 employed in skirmishing, and it is in skirmish- 
 ing only that carabines can be useful. But my 
 gallant friends will, I trust, forgive me if I say, 
 that their movements, though steady, and on 
 the whole accurate, were wonderfully slow. 
 I was very much amused, indeed, with the fre- 
 quency and zeal with which their commandant 
 restrained them, if by chance they appeared 
 desirous of putting their horses out of a long 
 trot. " Langsam ! langsam !" was as often 
 uttered at Koernitz, as its opposite is apt to be 
 in Hyde Park ; and the results were a very 
 sober and sedate wheel, followed by a charge 
 equally sedate and sober. 
 
 The Walmoden cuirassiers get their horses 
 chiefly from Bohemia. They are strong, heavy 
 animals; heavier and stronger, indeed, than I 
 had imagined that Bohemia could produce, but 
 they themselves complain that they are not 
 very hardy. They comforted themselves, how- 
 ever, when we were discussing the point in 
 barracks, by observing, that where their horses 
 would live and grow fat, the horses of the 
 English cavalry must starve. I do not think 
 that our good friends are disposed to rate us 
 very high as a military nation. Of our navy 
 they always S2)eak in terms of unqualified ad- 
 miration; but they doubt our aptitude for 
 
 DUELLING. 
 
 215 
 
 war by land, and especially hold our cavalry 
 
 cheap. 
 
 There is, perhaps, no class of men living 
 among whom the point of honour is maintained 
 so sharply or so well, as among the officers of 
 the Austrian cavalry. I should say that they 
 were the very opposite of quarrelsome ; that 
 they play with one another like good-humoured 
 schoolboys, and never dream of taking offence 
 where none is meant to be given. But an 
 insult once received must be atoned for. Nay, 
 so tenacious are they on this head, that an 
 officer who might have received a blow, whe- 
 ther from a gentleman or anybody else, cannot 
 continue in the service, unless he have put the 
 individual who struck him to death. In ordi- 
 nary cases, however, as the broad-sword is the 
 weapon invariably used for settling what are 
 called affairs of honour,— duels seldom among 
 them end fatally. The first blood drawn settles 
 the dispute, and no more must be heard of it. 
 It is, perhaps, unnecessary to add, that all 
 Austrian officers are swordsmen ; and that each 
 has his favourite weapon, which he always keeps 
 in good order against the chances of an encoun- 
 ter. There was one of the gentlemen who 
 dined with us, whose cheek exhibited a sad 
 gash, and which, from the discoloration that 
 
216 
 
 DUELLING. 
 
 -# 
 
 still adhered to it, was evidently of recent 
 
 occurrence. 
 
 " How came that ?" said I to another of the 
 
 party. 
 
 "Oh! he got it not long ago in a duello. 
 Somebody, at one of the watering places, chose 
 to speak disrespectfully of a lady, to whom he 
 is betrothed, and the Count called him out, of 
 
 course." 
 
 " And what did the lady say," asked I, smil- 
 ing, " when she saw that her lover s beauty was 
 injured ?" 
 
 " She has not seen it yet," was the answer ; 
 " but of course she will love him all the better 
 for a wound received in her service." 
 
 iM 
 
 < 
 
 >w 
 
 217 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 I 
 
 KOESINTZ. THE CONVENT OF ST. BENEDICT. PART FROM 
 
 THE CUIRASSIERS. COUNTESS STEINLEIN. MR. CAREY. 
 
 — COMORN. BABOLNA.—THE FARM AND STUD. 
 
 There had been pointed out to us, while mov- 
 ing- upon Koesintz, a noble chateau that over- 
 hung the road, — a huge pile, battlemented and 
 enclosed with tower and rampart, — which 
 crowning a rock, looked down upon us as if in 
 defiance. It was not a schloss, but a convent, 
 or rather, if I may express myself more accu- 
 rately, it had been a convent, but was now a 
 sort of secular abbey, belonging to the metro- 
 political see of Graan. The canons who reside 
 there were described as very wealthy ; some of 
 them as gentlemen both in manners and by 
 lineao-e, who took great delight in extending 
 their hospitality to strangers, and were much 
 respected by the peasants around them. A fine 
 young cadet, attached to the regiment, a native 
 of Hanover, and the son of a brave soldier who 
 served during the Peninsular war in the King 
 of England's late German Legion, kindly un- 
 dertook to be the medium of introducing us 
 
 VOL. III. ^ 
 
218 
 
 CONVENT OF ST. BENEDICT. 
 
 r-| 
 
 CONVENT OF ST. BENEDICT. 
 
 219 
 
 to their acquaintance ; and as we were glad of 
 the opportunity of thus extending our know- 
 ledge of Hungarian society, we put ourselves 
 under his guidance about six in the evening, and 
 walked back in the direction of St. Benedict. 
 
 It was late when we reached the place, — too 
 late to examine its architectural arrangements 
 in detail ; yet we saw enough to convince us, 
 that the estimate which we had formed of it, 
 from the observations which we were enabled 
 to make while passing, was not an erroneous 
 one. It was, indeed, a noble mansion ; having 
 about it more the character of a feudal fortalice 
 than of a cloister, and well adapted, both from 
 its position and the solidity of its defences, to 
 offer serious opposition to an irregular force 
 even now. We ascended the steep height on 
 which it was placed, towards a sort of barbacan, 
 through which we passed into a narrow gallery, 
 the solid walls of the mansion being on our left 
 hand, and a low parapet on our right, which, 
 winding half round the edifice, brought us to 
 the great gate, — an arch, defended by circular 
 towers and a machicolation. We knocked, — 
 for the gate was closed ; and, the porter answer- 
 ing to the signal, we found ourselves in an 
 extensive court-yard, begirt on all sides by 
 buildings. Traversing this, we gained another 
 
 gate, then a staircase, and last of all a corridor, 
 alono* which our military friend conducted us 
 towards the door of a chamber. 
 
 " Here lives my friend the archdeacon ; andj 
 if he be at home, I can assure you of kind 
 treatment and a hearty Avelcome." 
 
 Happily the archdeacon was at home, and 
 the cadet's assurances were accomplished to 
 the letter. The hospitable ecclesiastic received 
 us in his study, — a neat and commodious room, 
 well furnished with books ; and expressed him- 
 self much disappointed when, in reply to his 
 pressing invitation, we told him that it would 
 be necessary for us to return to Koesintz the 
 
 same night. 
 
 " But you must stay and sup with us, at all 
 events," added he. " This is a meagre day, to 
 be sure, so that your fare will be indifferent; 
 but it would be a positive disgrace to us were 
 two Englishmen to come and go without par- 
 taking of such cheer as we have to offer." We 
 did not think that we were at all required to 
 reject this invitation likewise ; on the contrary, 
 we came into his project very readily: while 
 he, in order to amuse us till the supper-bell 
 should ring, volunteered to conduct us over as 
 much of the convent as time and the growing 
 
 darkness would allow. 
 
 L 2 
 
220 
 
 EXHIBITION OF RELICS. 
 
 We had heard of the extreme beauty of the 
 chapel, as well as of the great antiquity of some 
 portions of it ; and I am hound to record that, 
 in spite of the disadvantages of a fading light 
 under which we beheld it, our expectations 
 were, in every respect, realized. There were 
 two distinct characters about the pile, both being 
 broadly marked ; that is to say, one portion, 
 far more capacious than the other, Avas in tlie 
 richest florid Gothic; the other, sober and 
 severely simple. It was in this latter division, 
 indeed, — a sort of detached oratory, — that we 
 chiefly lingered. Here the pillars were circular, 
 the arches and the floor composed of flat stones, 
 the walls and roof of the same material ; while 
 everywhere were cut the rude figures of men 
 and other animals, reminding me more of what I 
 iiave I'ead of a Buddhist temple than of a place 
 set apart for Christian worship. The arch- 
 deacon could give us no authentic account 
 either of the date of this oratory, or of the par- 
 ties by whom it was built ; he only knew that 
 it was by far the oldest part of the edifice. 
 •But there M-ere greater wonders than this to be 
 shoMn, and from us they were not hidden. I 
 confess that I blushed in very shame when the 
 archdeacon, arraying himself in his stole, took 
 out from a secret recess in the high altar a relic- 
 
 THE REFECTORY. 
 
 221 
 
 case ; and, bowing reverently before it, shoAved 
 
 us behind its screen of glass, a portion of what 
 
 he' pronounced to be the very napkin which had 
 
 encircled the head of the Saviour, when he lay 
 
 in the grave. It seems quite impossible that a 
 
 man of sense and learning, as this archdeacon 
 
 unquestionably is, should credit the tale winch 
 
 he tells ; it is most humiliating to be driven to 
 
 the alternative of assuming that he tells it over 
 
 and over again, without believing a word of it. 
 
 From the chapel,— Avhich, by-the-by, is thrown 
 open on all occasions to the public, and so sup- 
 plies the place of a parish-church to the neigh- 
 bourhood, we returned to the archdeacon's apart- 
 ment ; where in due time a domestic entered 
 to announce that supper was ready. We fol- 
 lowed him to the refectory, which, both in 
 respect of size, and in the general style of its 
 appointments, resembled one of the common 
 rooms at one of our largest colleges in Oxford. 
 It was a long and spacious hall, in the centre 
 of which stood a table of very ample dimen- 
 sions, over which was now thrown a fine damask 
 cloth, as well as covers for a dozen guests. On 
 the sideboards was a fair display of plate, such 
 as tankards, cups, forks, spoons, and one or two 
 «alvers; while the silver sconces that sur- 
 mounted them bore each its wax candle, and 
 
''f 
 
 222 
 
 SUP WITH THE CANONS. 
 
 VISIT THE COUNTESS STEINLEIN. 
 
 223 
 
 contributed, with the branches that ornamented 
 the table, to throw a not very brilliant light 
 over the scene. 
 
 Such was the refectory, — a sort of apartment 
 which told no tale of poverty within the clois- 
 ter, and with the general character of which all 
 things appertaining to its uses corresponded to 
 fhe most minute degree. The canons in re- 
 sidence appeared to be four only, yet twelve 
 persons sat down to supper, of whom eight 
 were guests. I do not know how these gentle- 
 men fare on their full days, but a better meal 
 than this meagre day furnished forth I never 
 desire to partake. Flesh, to be sure, was 
 wanting ; but what could have been made of 
 flesh amid a profusion of well-dressed dishes, 
 in which fish, eggs, and vegetables of every sort 
 were the ingredients ? And as to drink, better 
 Ofener never made its appearance at the table 
 of the Palatine, and better wine than good 
 Ofener living man need not desire. Neither 
 must I forget to mention, that the conversation 
 of these canons was just as superior to that of 
 their brethren at Kreutz, as the whole style of 
 their menage might have led me to expect. 
 They were all gentlemen,— men of family and 
 rank, whose lack of acquirements brought no 
 discredit on the preferment to which an aris- 
 
 tocratic connexion had undisguisedly advanced 
 
 *^ We returned to the little barrack to sleep, 
 and next morning after breakfast, took leave of 
 our military friends. We had a vxsit to pay to 
 the Countess Steinlein, whose residence lay 
 some hours' journey wide of the line of march ; 
 and as our minds were made up to pursue a 
 course which would hinder us from again falling 
 in with that line, the temptation even of agree- 
 able society was not permitted to interfere ^nth 
 the arrangement. Mr. Crawford, however him- 
 self a frequent visitor in the grafinns house, 
 still attended us, and his carriage and horses 
 ,vere put under requisition to convey us thither. 
 Thou-h the weather was intensely hot, we en- 
 1oyed°the drive exceedingly. The great fea- 
 tures of the country had, indeed, undergone a 
 change; and every mile which we gained xu 
 advance, rendered the change --^^^ ^'^f^'^ 
 Mountain and ravine were both left behind 
 and now undulating hills, well-wooded, but 
 otherwise tame, alone broke in upon the same- 
 ness of the plain. As we approached Simerid, 
 indeed, the point towards which our faces were 
 turned, the highlands made, as it were, their 
 last effort to overtake us. There were some 
 bold heights on either side; and that they did 
 
. ■;*' 
 
 224 
 
 OUR RECEPTION 
 
 BY THE COUNTESS. 
 
 225 
 
 not essentially differ in their formations from 
 those about Sehemnitz and Kremnitz, the fre- 
 quent recurrence of warm chalybeate springs 
 demonstrated. In several of these, which the 
 hand, either of nature or of man had converted 
 into ponds, groups of country-people were re- 
 freshing themselves. There they stood, whether 
 men, or women, or both, I cannot tell,— for all 
 that appeared of each, was a head surmounted 
 by an enormous sombrero hat, — immersed up to 
 the chin in the dingy puddle, and motionless as 
 stocks ; indeed, but for the faces that gleamed 
 upon us as we passed, we might have mistaken 
 the bathers for so many huge black toadstools. 
 Having quitted Koesintz about ten o'clock, 
 we reached Simerid at three, just in time to 
 make our toilets with all possible despatch, and 
 join the family at dinner. But that the dinner- 
 hour was earlier than that to which in England 
 we are accustomed, and that the house was fur- 
 nished rather in the German than the English 
 style, I might have fancied myself at the table 
 of any one of those with whom, among the 
 higher ranks of my native country, I have been 
 accustomed to associate. There was the same 
 easy and natural flow of conversation, the same 
 perfect good-breeding and refinement every- 
 where, tlie same careful attendance on the part 
 
 i 
 
 of the domestics, imy, tbe same, or very nearly 
 the same, order and management of the cuis.ne. 
 The truth, indeed, is, that as soon as ve pene- 
 trate within the line which circumscribes the 
 ^lite of European society, almost all the dis- 
 tinctions of national custom and manner cease 
 to be felt. There may be some trifling difter- 
 ence as to hours, some variety of fancy as to 
 amusements, some prejudices-the offspring of 
 early association, in favour of one subject of 
 conversation over another ; but in all the essen- 
 tials of correct taste, and gentle and consider- 
 ate deportment, the really well-bred person is. 
 everywhere the same, whether you meet him m 
 England, in France, in Germany, in Italy, or m 
 
 Hungary. , . 
 
 There was a large party in the house, in- 
 cluding several officers of the Walmoden cui- 
 rassiers, with whom, by the way. the young 
 Count Steinlein was associated as a comrade; for 
 he had recently been appointed to the corps as a 
 cadet, and was just beginning to find his mih- 
 tary harness sit light upon him. Nothing codd 
 be more agreeable than the mode m which the 
 day was spent. There is no such thing as sit- 
 ting late in good society anywhere; and m 
 Hungary, as elsewhere on the Continent he 
 ladies and gentlemen rise from table together. 
 
 L 3 
 
226 
 
 THE BATHS OF SIMERID. 
 
 MR. CAREY- 
 
 227 
 
 A walk was accordingly proposed, as soon as 
 the meal was ended, and forth we went in a 
 body, to visit some baths, which the countess has 
 fitted up, and the spring which supplies which, 
 a strong chalybeate, rises in the plain, about a 
 couple of English miles from the mansion. We 
 saw, as we passed along, a village, neater, 
 cleaner, and more humanized by far, than any 
 which had as yet come under our observation. 
 It belonged to the manor of Simerid, and owed 
 all its superior comforts to the good sense and 
 unwearied kindness of the countess, on whom, 
 moreover, it was easy to perceive, that her 
 people looked with as much of affection as of 
 respect. In like manner, the baths presented 
 a perfect specimen of what a correct taste will 
 always accomplish in the arrangement even of 
 such matters. A little plot of land, laid out 
 in lawns, and shrubberies, and walks, was sur- 
 rounded on two sides by long ranges of build- 
 ings, within which were the bathing rooms, — on 
 the other two, by well-trimmed hedges ; while in 
 the centre of all was a bench, drawn round a 
 pump, where such as chose to drink the waters 
 might draw for themselves without restriction. 
 I found upon inquiry that a little later in the 
 year, a good many families were in the habit of 
 taking advantage of the spa. As it was, the 
 
 i 
 
 area was by no means void ; and three or four 
 Cyganis, in the costume of ordinary mortals, 
 were amusing the visitors by drawing from 
 their violins, strains of very wild, but very 
 melodious harmony. 
 
 We returned home in the dusk, and tea, and 
 supper, and music, and lively conversation, drew 
 us on till past midnight. Then followed a 
 leave-taking, which to us was exceedingly mor- 
 tifying, because our kind friends would have 
 gladly detained us, and our own wishes urged 
 a compliance with theirs. But travellers are 
 not exactly masters of their own movements. 
 The summer was stealing away; we had yet 
 much to accomplish ; and the enjoyment, even 
 of such society as Simerid afforded, must needs 
 be sacrificed, in order to ensure its accomplish- 
 ment. 
 
 The early dawn saw us astir, and another 
 young countryman,— Mr. Carey,— likewise a 
 lieutenant in the Walmoden cuirassiers, afoot 
 and ready with his phaeton and pair, to put us 
 on our way. We had been strongly recom- 
 mended to visit Babolna,— one of the great 
 breeding studs for horses in Hungary, and with 
 this view now turned our faces in the direction 
 of Comorn. Neither did we go empty-handed. 
 Major Brand, a brother officer of Mr. Crawford 
 
228 
 
 JOURNEY TO 
 
 COMORN. 
 
 229 
 
 and Mr. Carey, kindly supplied us with intro- 
 ductory letters, one to Major Bokoni, the son 
 of the governor of Comorn, — the other to 
 Major Herbert, superintendent of the establish- 
 ment at Babolna ; and the attention which 
 we received from both fully bore him out in 
 the assurance which he gave, that we should 
 meet with nothing but civility and politeness 
 at the hands of his acquaintances. 
 
 After a hurried stroll through the beautiful 
 gardens of Simerid, which we had not found 
 leisure to examine over night, we took an affec- 
 tionate, though, I trust, not a final, leave of 
 Mr. Crawford, and drove off: Thanks to the 
 lively conversation of our young and enthusi- 
 astic charioteer, the first half of the journey 
 was performed agreeably enough ; though this 
 much we certainly learned from it, — that all 
 idea of persevering in our plan of a pedestrian 
 tour must be abandoned. How, indeed, could 
 a couple of strangers hope to get forward at 
 all, should they attempt to pass on foot through 
 a country where, for ten or twelve miles together, 
 not a vestige of a human habitation is to be 
 seen, and the very roads, whenever you abandon 
 the great chaussee, degenerate into mere tracks. 
 I confess that the discovery mortified me much ; 
 because, of all modes of wandering, that of the 
 
 pedestrian is at once the most agreeable, and 
 the best suited to the purposes of him who 
 seeks to acquire information in his travel. But 
 I was not weak enough to persist in the pro- 
 secution of a scheme which the very outward 
 aspect of nature condemned ; so, after dining 
 with Mr. Carey at a place called Kemind, we 
 exchanged his carriage for a peasant's wagon, 
 and pushed forward under the peasant's guid- 
 ance. 
 
 The weather was lowering and gloomy when 
 we parted from our light-hearted young friend ; 
 and we had not proceeded many miles ere 
 the rain began. It was no summer shower, 
 with gleams of sunshine breaking in, but a 
 perfect torrent ; while, to add to our comforts, 
 the postilion repeatedly lost his way, and once 
 or twice seemed disposed to sit down in despair. 
 We cheered him on, however, as well as by 
 signs we could, and his courage came again ; so 
 that after much toil, and sundry declensions 
 from the right way, the spires and towers of 
 Comorn, at the extremity of an enormous plain, 
 became visible. It was well for us that our 
 errors had not been more serious, inasmuch as 
 Comorn, when first presented to our view, caught 
 the last rays, not of the sun, but of the twilight ; 
 yet we gained it without hinderance or accident, 
 
230 
 
 COMORN. 
 
 crossed the long wooden bridge by which the 
 Waag is spanned, answered the customary 
 questions at the barrier beyond, and drove to 
 the inn. 
 
 Our letter to Major Bokoni we delivered, 
 ere we established ourselves for the night; and 
 to his politeness we were indebted for Hie com- 
 fortable quarters which the inn afforded. Next 
 morning he was with us at the early hour of 
 seven, and under his guidance, we set out to 
 take a survey of the place. It is, as I need 
 hardly state, a fortress of the first class ; and 
 never having yielded to the efforts of a besieger, 
 the Hungarians fondly speak of it as impreg- 
 nable. Unquestionably, it is a very strong 
 place. Planted upon a neck of land, within 
 the confluence of the Waag and the Danube, it 
 lies open to a serious attack only from the side 
 of the town ; and there, all that the skill of 
 man can devise, to impede the progress of 
 an enemy, has been accomplished. Moreover, 
 the arrangements within the lines of defence 
 are in every respect on a footing with the 
 excellence of the lines themselves. There are 
 casemates, or bomb-proof barracks, for two 
 thousand men; there are lodgings, well shel- 
 tered, at least from shot, for thrice that num- 
 ber. The store-houses, the baking places, the 
 
 THE BARRACKS. 
 
 231 
 
 kitchens, are all bomb-proof; and the wells are 
 abundantly supplied. With the attention to 
 the efficiency of its army and its strong places 
 which eminently distinguishes the Austrian 
 government, neither the magazine, nor the 
 arsenal of Comorn are neglected. We saw 
 quantities of flour laid up, besides wheat un- 
 ground, sufficient to keep the garrison in bread 
 for three months; and wine, and medical stores, 
 and shot, and shell, and powder, are all as they 
 ought to be, abundant. 
 
 Major Bokoni was good enough to lead us 
 through the men's barracks, and to give us an 
 insight both into the arrangements of the rooms, 
 and the style of living. I should say that the 
 rooms were individually too large. I think 
 that each contained at least sixteen beds, and 
 that to each bed two men were allotted. But 
 they were scrupulously clean ; and the order in 
 which both arms and packs were kept, nothing 
 could exceed. I tasted the bread and soup also, 
 both of which were excellent, though the meat 
 allowed for the latter is only at the ratio of a 
 quarter of a pound per man. 
 
 Everything in and about the fortress delighted 
 me ; and the appearance of the troops was, in 
 defiance of the unbecoming garb in which it is 
 the emperor's pleasure to array them, superb. 
 
I 
 
 '^pm* 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 232 
 
 VIEW FROM THE 
 
 Yet, I confess, that I was to the full as deeply 
 interested with the scene which spread out 
 before me, when, having ascended the highest 
 bastion, which overlooks the downward course 
 of the Danube, my eye ranged over the huge 
 pampa of Hungary. There is something, de- 
 spite of the sameness which attaches to it, 
 exceedingly striking, in an enormous plain. 
 You become silent, you don't know why, as you 
 gaze round; while the vision wearies itself, as it 
 
 were, to discover some bounds to the scene, 
 
 some object, by leaning on which it may find 
 rest from its labours. And when, as in the 
 present instance, a noble river sleeps beneath 
 your feet, a sort of dreamy and mysterious 
 state of half-conscious existence is all of which, 
 after a time, you become aware. 
 
 It was not, however, because of the mere 
 extent of the plain, that the occupation of 
 looking forth upon it, round and round, cheated 
 me out of a greater portion of time than I ought, 
 perhaps, to have allotted to it. I found Major 
 Bokoni perfectly well informed, and well in- 
 clined, on all matters of topographical lore, to 
 communicate his information. He pointed afar 
 off to some towers, which appeared to crown a 
 gentle undulation, and rose indistinctly over the 
 tops of the trees by which they were surrounded. 
 
 FORTIFICATIONS OF COMORN. 
 
 233 
 
 " There," said he, " is the spot on which Arpad 
 first halted in his career of conquest, and said, 
 ' We will keep this country, for it is good.' 
 King Stephen erected there a monastery, of 
 which the towers that you see are all that re- 
 main. It is now applied to other purposes ; for 
 Joseph II. dealt with it, as he did with many 
 more,— that is, he suppressed it." Then, again, 
 there were the positions explained, which the 
 French army took up when marching in 1809, 
 upon Vienna ; there were the lines which the 
 corps d'armee occupied to which the siege of 
 Comorn had been intrusted; there were the 
 two great islands of the Danube, the Grosse 
 Schutt, and Kleine Schutt, of which the former 
 extends all the way from Presburg to Comorn ; 
 and finally, the cathedral of Gra^n, a new and 
 unfinished edifice, was just distinguishable in 
 the distance. All these were objects, which 
 though they offered no distinguishing features 
 which might force the unassisted stranger to 
 examine them, were yet, when the attention 
 ^vas drawn to them, full of interest; and as 
 the gentleman who showed them to me, made 
 them but the vehicles for conveying important 
 historical information, I could not well grow 
 weary of my employment, or seek prematurely 
 to change it. 
 
 t I 
 
f ! 
 
 I f 
 
 234 
 
 VISIT TO THE 
 
 I 
 
 Considered as a town, Comorn appeared to 
 me to be in a far more flourishing condition tlian 
 Presburg. It is not, indeed, so large; for it con- 
 tains a population of onlj seventeen or eighteen 
 thousand souls, all of them, however, with the 
 exception of a few Jews, being Hungarians of the 
 purest water. But its shops are good, and the 
 streets full of bustle, and the river, where it 
 washes the walls, is by no means bare of shipping. 
 We found, also, upon inquiry, that it contained 
 two theatres, a casino, or club-house, and an ex- 
 cellent market-place ; and our informant assured 
 us, that of the trade M^hich Hungary carries on 
 with Turkey and the Levant, a very considerable 
 share originates in, or passes through Comorn. 
 
 Having taken time by the forelock, we dis- 
 covered, about eleven o'clock, that we should 
 still be able to reach Babolna that day, to 
 inspect the stud, and return to our quarters, in 
 reasonable time, to sleep. Accordingly, a car- 
 riage was ordered, and taking with us our 
 credentials, our introductory letter to Major 
 Herbert, we set out. An hour's drive over a 
 country, flat, and in every respect uninteresting, 
 brought us to the point which we desired to 
 visit ; and the delivery of our letter obtained for 
 us the personal attendance and hospitality of the 
 superintendent He ordered our postilion to 
 
 S 
 
 FARM AND STUD OF BABOLNA. 
 
 235 
 
 put up his horses, went with us over the entire 
 settlement, explained to us the whole process 
 by which it is conducted, and ended, by making 
 us his guests at dinner. It will be better if I 
 tell the tale in words of my own, as a whole, 
 than carry the reader from point to point, and 
 stop with him at each, in order to make its 
 merits conspicuous. 
 
 The Hungarian horses, though both active 
 and enduring, are neither large enough, nor 
 strong enough, to serve the purposes of war; and 
 the emperor has in consequence erected certain 
 establishments within which the breed may be 
 improved; and from which, in due time, the 
 whole of his cavalry may be furnished. One of 
 these is Babolna. It is a perfect little com^ 
 munity within itself; a sort of military colony, 
 where all the inhabitants are soldiers, where 
 their rulers are officers, yet where every trade 
 and art necessary to support life, or add to its 
 conveniences, is practised. A farm, I forget of 
 what precise dimensions, constitutes the terri- 
 tory of this petty state. Its bounds are marked 
 by a belt of poplars ; and all the land within 
 that belt, is as completely exempt from the 
 operations of the common law, as if it were a 
 distinct kingdom, and the poplar-trees a circle 
 of ocean. In the centre of the farm stands 
 
236 
 
 FARM AND STUD 
 
 OF BABOLNA. 
 
 237 
 
 M 
 
 the capital — enormous ranges of stables with 
 
 lodgings for the major commandant, and his 
 four subalterns, contiguous to them ; while apart 
 from these, are the huts, or dwelling-houses; 
 within which reside, with their wives and chil- 
 dren, thirty non-commissioned officers, and three 
 hundred privates. There is a chapel, and a 
 chaplain ; there is an hospital, with a due sup- 
 ply of medical attendants ; therfe are veterinary 
 surgeons, and compounders of medicine for man 
 and beast; there is an hotel-keeper, and of 
 course, an hot(3l, a billiard-room, and a library; 
 in a word, there seems to be wanting no 
 single personage, or convenience, the presence 
 of which may contribute in any manner to pro- 
 mote the w^ell-being and the content of the 
 colonists. 
 
 In direct opposition to the ordinary course of 
 events, however, the human beings in this 
 colony are maintained and provided for, not on 
 their own accounts, and through the instru- 
 mentality of the inferior animals, but for the 
 single purpose of attending to the wants of 
 these animals. The horses are, in Babolna, the 
 objects of paramount importance. For them 
 men ply their trades, cultivate the fields, and 
 gather in the corn; for them oxen toil at the 
 wain and drag the plough. It is to the pre- 
 
 servation of their health that attention is chiefly 
 directed, and the loss of a single life among 
 tJiem would be more lamented than the death 
 of an entire company of soldiers. Let me not 
 be misunderstood. I do not express myself 
 thus as if there existed anywhere a want of care 
 for the men's comforts, and the men's health. 
 I am merely stating a fact, which is equally 
 a fact as applied to every training stable in 
 England,— that the establishment of Babolna 
 has^'been created for the sake of the horses, and 
 that the men are, upon these horses, the mere 
 
 attendants. 
 
 I forget the precise number of animals that 
 are maintained in this colony. The brood 
 mares, which never perform any work at all, 
 amount, as I perfectly remember, to two hun- 
 dred, while the stallions, whom it is judged 
 expedient to indulge with lives of equal leisure, 
 are only ten or twelve. But these form a very 
 small portion of the equestrian community. 
 Moreover you have the noble beast in all its 
 stages, from that of the foal just born, up to 
 the° gi-andsire of the flock, and the order in 
 which Major Herbert has arranged them is 
 perfectly beautiful. One stable, for example, 
 is given up exclusively to stallions, and a nobler 
 collection of horses the eye of man need not 
 
'^'^ ■" ■;«ivi**!®®^iii***s:s*^>W';' 
 
 238 
 
 FARM AND STUD 
 
 ii 
 
 wish to behold. There are several of these, and 
 one in particular, a giant of seventeen and a 
 half hands high, which Major Herbert himself 
 purchased from the Bedouin Arabs; and I 
 confess that my powers of imagination are not 
 competent to conceive a more perfect specimen 
 of equestrian beauty. Other stables hold the 
 mares, one being set apart for such as have just 
 produced their foals, a second for those whose 
 time is drawing nigh ; a third to a class still 
 more remote from parturition, and the re- 
 mainder for such as are fit to go to work. 
 Moreover, each animal, whether stallion or 
 mare, has its crib, not its stall, in which it is 
 free to turn round when it pleases, or even, on 
 a small scale, to exercise. 
 
 If the apartments of the full-grown beasts 
 delighted us, we were doubly charmed with 
 those in which colts of all ages, from three years 
 old, down to five weeks, are kept. Like the 
 lodgings of their seniors, the barracks of these 
 youthful heroes are told off to suit their respec- 
 tive occupants ; for the colts of three, the colts 
 of two, the colts of one, and the colts of less 
 than one year, have all their separate lodges. 
 There is, however, this general difference in the 
 fitting-up of the stables, which are respectively 
 allotted to the old and the young : that whereas 
 
 \ 
 
 OF BABOLNA. 
 
 239 
 
 sires and dams have each their distinct cribs, 
 the colts of each age are all turned loose toge- 
 ther. I never in my life saw anything more 
 beautiful than this group of perhaps two hun- 
 dred yearlings, into the middle of which, fol- 
 lowing Major Herbert, we walked. The crea- 
 tures were as tame, and apparently as affec- 
 tionate, as spaniels ; for they gathered round us, 
 thrust their noses into our hands, and seemed 
 to beg for the caresses which were liberally 
 bestowed upon them. 
 
 The total expense to the government, of the 
 establishment at Babolna, is estimated at four 
 hundred thousand florins, or forty thousand 
 pounds per annum. This is not, however, dis- 
 bursed, florin by florin, out of the imperial 
 treasury, for every year forty or fifty stallions 
 are sold, as well as all mares not required for 
 breeding, and all, whether mares or stallions, 
 that are blemished. These produce a very con- 
 siderable sum of money, and it is regularly car- 
 ried to account. Moreover, noblemen or gen- 
 tlemen going abroad, or otherwise wishing to 
 put out their studs where they will be properly 
 cared for, are permitted, as a great favour, to 
 send them here, on payment of a board. Then, 
 again, the work of the farm, except where oxen 
 are used, as in ploughing, is entirely performed 
 
240 
 
 FARM AND STUD 
 
 MAJOR HERBERT. 
 
 241 
 
 i 
 
 by these blood-horses. They drag the harrows, 
 they fetch in the hay, they draw the carts, and 
 light wagons, they do everything, in short, which 
 in this country is usually done by animals of far 
 less noble breed. And this, together with the 
 regular exercise which day by day they take, 
 keeps them in the sound health, to the preva- 
 lence of which I can bear testimony. At the 
 same time it is due to Major Herbert to state, 
 that this is not the only, nor the most effectual 
 means which he has adopted to guard against 
 debility, and frequent deaths among his charge. 
 He observed, when first appointed to the post, 
 that of the high-bred foals that were born, by 
 far the greater number died when they had 
 attained to the age of four months. He pon- 
 dered the circumstance well, and came at 
 length to the conclusion that it was owing to 
 some vicious quality in the milk, — the result 
 of the unnatural state in which the mares lived. 
 His next step was to try how far the foal would 
 thrive, if removed from its dam at the end of 
 one month, and fed upon boiled carrots. It 
 throve to admiration, and now, the system being 
 adopted on all occasions, the mortality amounts 
 not to one-fiftieth part of what it used to be 
 under the ancient regime. 
 
 I have alluded to the hospitals for men and 
 
 oeasts, to the workshops, the laboratories, the 
 furnaces, the smithies, and all the other means 
 and appliances of busy life which appertain to 
 this establishment. We visited them all, one 
 after another, and found all in the highest pos- 
 sible order. Nothing could exceed the care 
 that was taken of the sick men, unless indeed it 
 were the attention paid to the sick horses. 
 Industry and skill could not be more perfectly 
 developed than in the carpenters' shop, unless, 
 perhaps, the blacksmiths' forge took the lead ; 
 while grooms and their helpers, equally diligent 
 and adroit, seemed each to know his business, 
 and to attend to it. And, to complete the 
 picture, in order that these military artists 
 mio-ht not be withdrawn from their civil occu- 
 pations, no manner of military duty was imposed 
 upon them. There came from Comorn every 
 day an officer's guard, which supplied the sen- 
 tries ; for as to the preservation of order, there 
 could be no armed body necessary to ensure 
 
 that. 
 
 We lingered with Major Herbert, being 
 alike pleased with his establishment and his 
 conversation, till five in the afternoon ; when, 
 after a hearty dinner, we took our leave of 
 him. He is a fine old soldier, and has seen 
 service both with the French and against 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 M 
 
242 
 
 MAJOR HERBERT. 
 
 243 
 
 them ; he has fought among the Cossacks, and 
 lived with the Arabs of the Desert ; and, to 
 sum up all, is as admirably cut out for the 
 office which the emperor has conferred upon 
 him, as if his single occupation through life 
 had been to superintend a breeding stud, and 
 look after a farm. 
 
 i- 
 
 f^' 
 
 A 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 JOURNEY TO PESTH. — OPEN AND PESTH. — EMBARK FOU 
 SEMLIN. COUNT SZECHENZI. 
 
 We reached Comorn while there was yet light 
 enough to enjoy a walk across the bridge over 
 the Graan, and a saunter round some public 
 gardens ; but we were not slow in ascertaining 
 that all inducements to prolong our stay in the 
 place were wanting We determined, there^ 
 fore, to set out for Pesth on the morrow. But 
 unfortunately for us, the morrow was not a 
 steam-boat day; so we had but the alternative 
 submitted to us, either to proceed by land in a 
 hired carriage, or to linger where we were in 
 absolute idleness throughout four-and-twenty 
 hours longer. We did not hesitate which 
 course to pursue. Mine host was sent for ; a 
 bargain for a vehicle was struck, and we retired 
 to bed, after giving orders that all things should 
 be ready for the start at six o'clock on the fol- 
 lowing morning. 
 
 The country between Comorn and Pesth, for 
 about half the space that divides them, is on^the 
 rio-ht bank of the Danube, — whither the road 
 
 o 
 
 M 2 
 
244 
 
 JOURNEY TO TESTH. 
 
 carried us,— one continued plain. In the dis- 
 tance, indeed, the roots of the Bakonjer Wald 
 are visible, with here and there an undulation 
 falling off from them ; while* the forests, which 
 clothe them densely, and furnish an admirable 
 haunt for banditti, come down in some places 
 to the road-side ; but, generally speaking, you 
 are carried through huge flat meadows, of which 
 the sameness is relieved only by the magnificent 
 river, which flows for some time steadily, and 
 with a strong current, within less than an 
 English mile of your vehicle. When you 
 reach a place called Dorogh, however, — where, 
 by-the-by, we halted to dine, — the scene changes. 
 The river here recedes from you, and almost at 
 its most distant bend, the new and stately, 
 though unfinished cathedral of Graan is seen ; 
 while in the opposite direction, hills begin again 
 to shoot up, which assume continually a bolder 
 outline, the nearer you approach towards the 
 capital. By-and-by you find yourself passing 
 through the midst of these hills, and observe that 
 they are everywhere covered with vines. Then 
 the valley opens, because, on your left, the hills 
 have faded away, and the Danube, of which for 
 some time you had lost sight, is again beside 
 you. And now, while you are yet watching the 
 flow of the river, or, it may be, following the 
 
 1(>t^'Sr"«^:';«5M3f«!^'^aSf«Wr«'*FS?W»^'-'^'«!l"«! 
 
 OFEN. 
 
 245 
 
 * 
 
 course of some barge or boat, that glides over 
 its surface, the road makes a turn, and Ofen 
 and Pesth meet your gaze. The effect of the 
 first view is very striking. Though separated 
 only by the breadth of the Danube, no towns 
 can stand in more perfect contrast to one 
 another ; and the nearer you approach to them, 
 the more are you convinced, that neither in 
 their leading features, nor in any of their more 
 minute details, is there the smallest similarity 
 
 between them. 
 
 Ofen, or Buda, the ancient capital of Hun- 
 gary, stands upon the right bank of the Danube, 
 and is built partly at the base, partly along the 
 ascent, of a range of low but picturesque hills, 
 which open out, as it were, in front of the river, 
 into a sort of glen ; and so give space for the re- 
 ception of a large portion of the city, of which 
 its architects have taken full advantage. There 
 are two peaks, in particular, which, from the 
 opposite sides of that gorge, command and 
 overlook the town, and both have been turned 
 to account. The one affords space for the 
 citadel,— a grave, and stern, and feudal-looking 
 pile, within which are planted the palatine's 
 palace, a variety of government offices, lodgings 
 for the aulic councillors, and other magnates 
 to whose management the internal affairs of 
 
246 
 
 OFEN. 
 
 THE BATHS. 
 
 247 
 
 the kingdom are intrusted; a Gothic church, 
 greatly mutilated by the violence of war rather 
 than by time ; and, though last, not least, a 
 series of dungeons which, sunk beneath the 
 bastions, are, even to this day, inhabited by a 
 large number of miserable captives. Here, too, 
 in the chapel of the palace, is preserved, in an' 
 iron chest, the crown consecrated by Pope 
 Sylvester long ago, and by him presented to 
 King Stephen,_an object to the Hungarians 
 well-nigh of superstitious reverence, the loss of 
 which they would account more disastrous than 
 the subjugation by a foreign enemy, of their 
 best provinces. I need scarcely add, that 
 among all the outrages which he offered to their 
 national customs and modes of thinking, there 
 was none which earned for Joseph the Second 
 so much unpopularity, as the removal of this 
 crown to Vienna ; or that his successor was not 
 more heartily thanked for the decree which 
 gave back to the Hungarians their constitution, 
 than for restoring this emblem of their boasted 
 independence to its original place of safe- 
 keeping in Ofen. 
 
 We were not so fortunate as to see these 
 regalia, the difficulties of obtaining access to 
 which are, except when exhibited during 
 three days in the year to the public, very 
 
 great. Neither were we tempted to linger 
 long amid the solitude of the fortress; but, 
 descending to the lower town, took a hasty 
 survey of the streets, and then passed on, first 
 to the Turkish baths, and afterwards to the 
 observatory. The Turkish baths are very 
 curious both as monuments of a state of society 
 diflferent from the present, and on account of 
 the uses to which they are still turned by the 
 inhabitants of Ofen and its vicinity. From the 
 sides of the hills, and particularly from the 
 Blocksberg, on the summit of which stands the 
 observatory, copious hot springs, strongly im- 
 pregnated with sulphur, pour out, of which both 
 the Romans and the Turks, alike addicted to 
 the luxury of bathing, failed not— each nation 
 in its turn— to make use. Of the Roman 
 baths, only broken fragments remain; but of 
 those which owe their existence to the Turks, 
 three are in a state of high preservation, the 
 largest of which lies under the Blocksberg, 
 about a couple of hundred yards from the head 
 of the bridge. It is a fine thing in its way,— 
 of thoroughly Saracenic architecture, and there 
 is a Turkish inscription near the entrance, to 
 mark both its uses and origin. You enter by 
 a low door, and find yourself in an apartment 
 so obscured by sulphureous vapours as to render 
 
248 
 
 THE BATHS. 
 
 THE SUBURB OF RATZINSTADT. 
 
 249 
 
 the sense of sight well-nigh useless, and the re- 
 spiration itself for a time uncomfortable. By- 
 and-by, when the vision becomes accustomed to 
 the gloom, you see that there is a huge tank in 
 the middle of the area, in which persons of all 
 ages and sexes are floundering about, most of 
 them in a state of pure nature. Then, again, 
 you have people in all the stages of preparation, 
 dressing, undressing, and luxuriating in the 
 steam that floats around, and which, condensing 
 against the roof, returns in large drops to the 
 ground, so as effectually to supply the place, on 
 your garments, of a heavy shower of rain. The 
 persons who frequent this bath are, as may be 
 imagined, of the very humblest order ; and the 
 squalor of their appearance, as well as the dis- 
 agreeable atmosphere of the place, render you 
 eager to escape again into the open air with as 
 little delay as possible. 
 
 Somewhat lower down the course of the 
 Danube, but still sheltered by the Blocksbero- 
 are the baths which the higher classes of societv 
 frequent. They are abundantly commodious; 
 but being of modern construction, differ in no 
 essential respect from similar establishments 
 elsewhere. The charge for each ablution is 
 moderate ; and a band of music plays in the 
 court-yard all day long, for the amusement of 
 the bathers. 
 
 From these more aristocratic baths, you 
 ascend by a winding foot-path, through a mean 
 suburb called Ratzinstadt, to the summit of 
 the hill on which the observatory has been 
 planted. The suburb in question derives its 
 name from the Ratzin, a colony of Slavonians 
 who emigrated into Hungary from Servia about 
 four hundred years ago, and used exclusively to 
 dwell in this settlement. It was burned down, 
 however, in 1810 ; and having since been rebuilt, 
 is now inhabited by a mixed race of Slavonians 
 and Hungarians. Of the observatory itself, there 
 is nothing to be said, except that the instru^ 
 ments are good, and that the professors in 
 charge, knowing well how to use them, are not 
 idle in their vocation. But of the view which 
 is obtained from the brow of the Blocksberg, 
 every visitor must speak with admiration. 
 Rising sheer and well-nigh abrupt from the bed 
 of the Danube to a height of perhaps four 
 hundred feet, it opens out to you a survey of a 
 large portion of the great Hungarian plain, 
 from the fatigue of tracing which you may find 
 refreshment at any moment by merely turning 
 round, and gazing upon the low but picturesque 
 and vine-clad hills, of which the Blocksberg is 
 at once the boldest and the last. Then, again, 
 the river flows at your feet, so as that you may 
 
 M 3 
 
250 
 
 OPEN AND PESTH. 
 
 OFEN AND PESTH. 
 
 251 
 
 if "t 
 
 
 trace him both upwards and downwards for 
 many miles; the bridge of boats which con- 
 nects his opposite banks, appears alive with the 
 crowds that are continually passing: on this 
 side is Ofen, full of architectural anomalies, 
 yet from that very circumstance an object, to 
 you, of peculiar interest : on the other, Pesth, 
 laid out in all the regularity of street, and 
 square, and mall, and public garden. There 
 is not a greater contrast between the old and 
 new towns of Edinburgh, than between Pesth — 
 a city of yesterday's growth, — and Buda, the 
 ancient capital of the Magyars. The one wan- 
 ders from terrace to terrace, in dark and dingy 
 masses, or stretches in a long line wherever 
 between the river and the bases of the hill, a 
 space of level ground can receive it; the other, a 
 series of streets which cross each other at right 
 angles, shines in all the splendour of a plan 
 rigidly adhered to, and materials the best cal- 
 culated to preserve an appearance of uniformity 
 even in the separate edifices. Moreover, there 
 is much bustle of shipping and porterage at the 
 quays. In addition to a flotilla of barges and 
 light craft, there were, when we looked down 
 upon it, two large steam-boats moored ; the one 
 above, the other below the bridge, as if waiting 
 to complete their cargoes, in order that they 
 might proceed, in different directions, on their 
 
 voyage. In a word, we beheld on one bank of 
 the Danube an accurate representation of the 
 mingled pomp and squalor of the middle ages ; 
 on the other, a perfect specimen of modern 
 civilization, a city throughout the extent of 
 which the eye could detect signs only of that 
 universal refinement, somewhat overdone, which 
 is the characteristic of the common-place age 
 in which we live. 
 
 After enjoying the scene till it had become, 
 in some sort, familiar to us, we descended from 
 our mountain throne, and crossing the bridge, 
 made for the nearest of the excellent hotels 
 for which Pesth is distinguished,— the Jager 
 Horn. In us it excited no surprise, to find 
 that while we were permitted to pass the bar- 
 riers unquestioned, all persons dressed like 
 peasants were charged a pontage ; because we 
 had already been made aware of that peculiarity 
 in the Hungarian constitution, which imposes 
 all the public burdens on the class which is 
 least able to bear them. But it was very grati- 
 fying to learn, as in the course of our sojourn 
 at Pesth, we did, that this odious distinction 
 will shortly be put an end to. There was a 
 project in contemplation, which like all the 
 real improvements in this country, originated 
 with Count Szechenzi, for superseding the 
 
252 
 
 THE BRIDGE OF BOATS. 
 
 i 
 
 bridge of boats by a solid stone structure ; and 
 it had, from the first, constituted a part of his 
 plan, that pontage should be levied upon all 
 parties in crossing, whether they be of noble or 
 ignoble birth. As was to be expected, the 
 proposition met with violent opposition ; but 
 Count Szechenzi's perseverance overcame 
 every obstacle; and the point has at length 
 been conceded. I believe, indeed, that a con- 
 tract has been since entered into with an 
 English architect, to execute the bridge ; and it 
 seems to be admitted on all hands, that the 
 practice adopted at Pesth will furnish a prece- 
 dent for the whole of Hungary; which will 
 thus have taken a most important step towards 
 the deliverance of its people from the pressure 
 of usages every w^ay inimical to the developement 
 of their intelligence and their power. 
 
 I am not going to describe Pesth; why, in- 
 deed, should I ? Mr. Quin has forestalled me in 
 everything, which in description would be cal- 
 culated to amuse ; and even Mr. Quin has not 
 had the field entirely to himself. Enough is 
 done, when I state that all that was worth 
 seeing, we saw. We put our names down at 
 the Casino, and were liberally admitted to 
 the privileges of membership ; we inspected 
 the new barrack; an enormous pile, en- 
 
 ?(Ksrw:^"SK''*!io-; *" 
 
 THE MUSEUM. 
 
 253 
 
 closing four courts, each of which might pass 
 anywhere for the principal square of a city ; 
 we wandered through the quadrangle of the 
 University, which, though empty when we saw 
 it, furnishes, during the session, accommodation 
 and gratuitous instruction to a thousand stu- 
 dents ; we looked into the Museum, and saw 
 much both to admire and to condemn. The 
 collection of Hungarian coins is excellent ; and 
 there are some curious remains of antiquity, — 
 such as pottery, bronzes, weapons, and other 
 implements, all of them Roman, and all found 
 within the limits of the kingdom, but they are 
 ill arranged. The naturalist, too, will scarce 
 turn his back upon the minerals, however con- 
 fused and neglected, nor the geologist upon the 
 fossil remains of mammoth, mastodon, and 
 other antediluvian animals; all of native 
 growth. Yet why venture into a detailed ac- 
 count of these things ? They were exceedingly 
 interesting to behold ;— I do not think that by 
 mere description, I could render them at all 
 interesting to the reader. 
 
 We had not the good fortune to be present 
 at any of the fairs which occur four times in 
 every year at Pesth ; and which, bringing thither 
 an influx of strangers from all quarters, enable 
 the visitor to familiarise himself with the ever 
 
 I 
 
254 
 
 VARIED COSTUMES. 
 
 !: 
 
 I 
 
 varying costumes, and not less diversified aj)- 
 pearances of the tribes which compose the popu- 
 lation of Hungary. Even in wandering through 
 the streets, however, and they are wide, and 
 clean, and spacious, we saw enough to con- 
 vince us that we had penetrated well-nigh to 
 the extremity of Christendom. Here was a 
 priest of the Greek church, with his blue cloth 
 robe, his long beard, and his head surmounted 
 by a half-mitre, half-turban. There was the 
 old noble, cloaked and moustached, and wear- 
 ing his silver-mounted sabre by his side. By- 
 and-by came a peasant, his sombrero hat drawn 
 over his brow, his coarse woollen cloak covering 
 his shoulders, and reaching down well-nigh to 
 the knee, over his tight worsted hosen. Next a 
 domestic servant, arrayed like a hussar, with 
 laced jacket, tight pantaloons, and hessian 
 boots ; anon a Catholic priest in his canonicals ; 
 in a word, dresses of all sorts, from the com- 
 mon garb of the Englishman, up to the flowing 
 mantle of the Turk, and down to the half- 
 nakedness of the gipsy. In like manner, I 
 have everything to say in commendation of the 
 excellency of the shops, and the gay and attrac- 
 tive signs which surmounted them. There is 
 one in particular, — a tobacconist's, I forget in 
 what street, over whose door 51 painting of a 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE. 
 
 255 
 
 ' 
 
 Hungarian noble is suspended, which would do 
 no discredit to our exhibition, as I remember 
 it, at least, in Somerset House. 
 
 The population of Pesth has been computed 
 at one hundred thousand souls ; that of Ofen 
 at thirty thousand. As the latter is the chief 
 seat of i)olitical authority, so in the former, the 
 supreme court of justice holds its sittings. It 
 is termed indifferently the Konigliche Tafel, 
 and Septemviral Tafel, the former word signi- 
 fying the Royal Table ; the latter, the Table of 
 Seven; but the seven members which used to 
 compose it are now multiplied into twenty-one, 
 and include the palatine, four prelates, nine 
 magnates, and seven of the inferior nobles. Up 
 to the period when we were in Pesth, all the 
 proceedings, both in this and the other courts of 
 justice, were conducted in Latin ; that is to say, 
 in Latin the depositions were taken, and the 
 sentence registered ; but I have reason to be- 
 lieve that the use of the old Roman tongue 
 is now laid aside ; or if not, that its abolition 
 is resolved upon. This is another of Count 
 Szechenzi's projects, that in the transaction of 
 public business, the Magyar, or Hungarian, 
 shall be exclusively used ; and though a large 
 majority of the population, including all the 
 Transylvanians, the Slavonians, and Croatians, 
 
r I 
 
 256 PARTIALITY OF THE HUNGARIANS 
 
 are against him, lie calculates, without fail, on 
 success. 
 
 The Hungarians are, it must be allowed, a 
 very fine people. The peasantry seem to be small 
 of stature, and slenderly made ; but the gentry 
 are well-grown, robust, and active, and delight- 
 ing in all the field-sports which are familiar to 
 ourselves, have in most of them made us 
 their models, even to their very dresses. I am 
 assured that the race-course at Rokosfeld, for 
 example, a plain about five miles distant from 
 the city, might, by him who looks only to the 
 equipment of jockeys, and their employers, be 
 mistaken, with perfect ease, for Newmarket: 
 while, in the foxhounds imported hither en 
 masse from England, and the field which goes 
 forth with them, a meeting on the Curragh 
 of Kildare, or even the Melton Mowbray, is 
 very fairly reflected. It rarely happens, how- 
 ever, that one people imitates another in their 
 sports, without carrying their predilections 
 much further. The English are decided fa- 
 vourites in Hungary, where, by-the-by, the 
 jealousy of Russia is as bitter, and as strong, as 
 the most nervous alarmist of the Czar's growing 
 influence need desire. When we were at Pesth, 
 the capture of the Vixen formed a fruitful topic 
 of conversation in all circles ; and the disincli- 
 
 FOR THE ENGLISH, 
 
 257 
 
 nation exhibited in London to break at once 
 with the power which had perpetrated the 
 outrage, was loudly condemned. Nor were the 
 Hungarians content to murmur and complain : 
 they broadly asserted, that the whole aifair had 
 been settled beforehand, between Lord Pal- 
 merston and the Autocrat; that the latter 
 having failed by open negotiation to obtain a 
 recognition of his right to blockade the Circas- 
 sian coast, took this method of surreptitiously 
 accomplishing his purpose, and that the former, 
 yf encouraging Mr. Bell to undertake the 
 expedition, and afterwards refusing to support 
 him, had played into the emperor's hands. " The 
 fact is," continued one of the many who dis- 
 cussed the subject with me, " the fact is, that 
 though Lord Palmerston could not venture, in 
 the first instance, to sanction so gross an act of 
 tyranny, because he knew that your parliament 
 would not support him, he trusted to the gene- 
 ral inclination for peace which prevails in the 
 House of Commons, to carry him through in 
 his refusal to resent even this insult. We 
 can't tell what you are to gain by it ; but one 
 thing is certain, that we are grievous sufferers ; 
 because had you stirred we should have taken 
 advantage of your presence, to rid ourselves of 
 the intruders in the island of Salina, by whom. 
 
 11 
 
M 
 
 5» 
 
 258 
 
 STYLE OF LIVING IN PESTH. 
 
 without the co-operation of your fleet, our 
 commerce must, in a great degree, be held in 
 check. Is it possible that there can exist in 
 England any jealousy of our trade, feeble as it 
 is?" 
 
 It was to little purpose that we combated 
 this idea, or attributed the untoward event to 
 other causes. They could not believe that 
 England was afraid to go to war with Russia, 
 and persisted in believing that a base plot had 
 been concocted, to which, not only the Czar 
 and Lord Palmerston, but the owner of the 
 captured vessel himself, was a party. 
 
 I can well believe that, during the busy 
 months of the year, Pestli deserves all the com- 
 mendation which both natives and foreigners 
 are accustomed to bestow upon it. Of the 
 domestic habits of the population I am, indeed, 
 incompetent to speak, for I had no opportunities 
 of forming a judgment respecting them. But 
 the hotels are both clean and commodious, and 
 the style of living more decidedly refined than 
 I have met with anywhere out of London, Pa- 
 ris and Vienna alone excepted. Moreover, in 
 the library, which is attached to their national 
 Museum, the student will find ample resources, 
 especially if his tastes lead him to the inves- 
 tigation of matters connected with Hungarian 
 
 SCHEME OF FUTURE TRAVEL. 
 
 259 
 
 history ; for it is rich in records, both printed 
 and manuscript, almost all of which, being in 
 the Latin language, are accessible to every 
 scholar. I lament that circumstances should 
 have so controlled my movements, as to carry 
 me thither at a season when, almost all with 
 whom it would have been most agreeable to 
 converse, had abandoned the city; yet, I am 
 bound to declare, that the few days which I 
 spent in Pesth were spent very pleasantly ; and 
 that I quitted it, at their termination, not with- 
 
 out regret. 
 
 We had heard so much, while sojourning 
 among our friends of the Walmoden cuiras- 
 siers, concerning the peculiar organization of 
 society in what are called the Granz Comitates, 
 that we determined to pass by them into Italy: 
 in other words, to descend the Danube as far 
 as Semlin, to penetrate through the military 
 countries to Trieste, and, crossing the Gulf of 
 Venice, to be regulated in our future proceed- 
 ings by the time, and means, and humour 
 which might then be at our disposal. Accord- 
 ingly, having exhausted our curiosity, in refer- 
 ence to Pesth, we took our places in a steam- 
 boat, which was to sail betimes next day, for 
 Constantinople, and supping quietly in the 
 Speisen Saal of the Jager Horn, went early to 
 
260 
 
 EMBARK IN THE STEAM-BOAT. 
 
 bed. Sound and refreshing is the sleep which 
 follows and rises out of personal exertion ; and 
 ours that night forsook us not; till, at two 
 o'clock in the morning, the groom of the cham- 
 bers entered to announce, that the hour of 
 sailing was at hand. There was no necessity 
 on his part to repeat the statement. We 
 w^ere afoot in an instant: and, having taken 
 care to pack our knapsacks ere we lay down, 
 in five minutes we were in a condition to set 
 forth. 
 
 I do not know how far I may carry with me 
 the interest of others while I attempt to de- 
 scribe a scene which in its progress highly inte- 
 rested myself. I say nothing of tlie little bustle 
 which is everywhere attendant on the transfer 
 of passengers and their luggage from a hotel 
 to a steam-boat. Early as was the hour, the 
 trifling space that intervenes between the Jiiger 
 Horn and the river, presented for a while the 
 appearances which are usual on such occasions : 
 that is to say, porters jostled each other ; tra- 
 vellers urged them to increased expedition ; and 
 a crowd of idlers, thronging the gangway, in- 
 terrupted both. But all this came in the ordi- 
 nary course of events. It was after we had fairly 
 established ourselves that the curtain may be 
 said to have risen, and that there was exhibited 
 
 SCENE ON BOARD. 
 
 261 
 
 before us a diorama, to which each successive 
 moment gave, as it were, a novel character. 
 
 When we first planted ourselves at the ex- 
 treme stern of the ship, rejoicing in the light 
 equipment which enabled us to do so conve- 
 niently, the darkness was such as to render 
 surrounding objects, even the nearest, indis- 
 tinct ; while those which might be removed 
 from us by a few yards, were quite obscured. 
 Along the banks of the Danube, indeed, on 
 either side, as well as throughout the extent of 
 the bridge of boats, and such of the streets as led 
 to it, the gleam of a few lamps wavered doubt- 
 fully; but there was no moon in the heavens, 
 nor any stars visible, inasmuch as a dense fog 
 hung over the city, and enveloped it as with a 
 curttin. The darkness which prevailed in 
 every other direction was complete. All the 
 straining which our eyeballs underwent, suf- 
 ficed only to make us aware of the flitting 
 hither and thither of dusky forms, which seemed 
 for a while to crowd the deck to positive incon- 
 venience, and to give slender promise of com- 
 fort during the voyage. By degrees, however, 
 the vision appeared to become familiarized to 
 the gloom. Objects near at hand grew less 
 and less hazy in their outlines, the throng 
 seemed to diminish ; and, lo ! in the far east 
 
262 
 
 VIEW OF THE CITY. 
 
 there was a pale and sickly tinge, the first 
 flicker of the dawn that ushers in the day! How 
 magnificent was the effect of the gradual expan- 
 sion of that tinge ! As the sky reddened, hill, 
 tower, mansion, river, seemed to rejoice in its 
 glory. Now there was before us a mass of 
 things, strangely and wildly thrown together. 
 Now each took a definite shape, which became, 
 instant by instant, more accurate. Streets 
 might be traced, like lines on a huge map ; the 
 observatory looked down upon us ; the fortress 
 and viceregal lodge stood forward in something 
 like their proportions; and finally, there lay, 
 in the perfect quiet of the early morning, Ofen 
 and Pesth, with the Danube rolling his waters 
 between; — all as still, all as completely exempt 
 from other indications of human presence than 
 our own busy vessel afforded, as if the scene 
 had been one in the land of dreams, or that a 
 pestilence had recently swept over the city, and 
 spared no one in its wrath. I have watched 
 for the coining of day frequently, and that too 
 under circumstances much more calculated, as 
 might be imagined, to solemnize and excite ; 
 yet I do not recollect that the occurrence ever 
 affected me more deeply than it affected me 
 then ; — no, not even when I have stood beside 
 an armed band, with the sort of vague and 
 
 OUR FELLOW-PASSENGERS. 
 
 263 
 
 half-formed conviction on my mind that, in all 
 human probability, I should never watch for it 
 
 agam. 
 
 We were enjoying the scene with the inten- 
 sity which it was calculated to excite, when a 
 gun, the signal for sailing, was fired ; and all 
 whose business or inclination led them not to 
 bear us company, hurried on shore. It was no 
 source of lamentation to perceive, that the 
 numbers of such were considerable; and that 
 we were left, in consequence, with a very mo- 
 derate train to prosecute our voyage. It con- 
 sisted, besides ourselves, of two ladies, both of 
 them Hungarian, and their attendants; of a 
 young noble and his tutor, an intelligent but 
 eccentric man, who had spent some time in 
 England ; of another noble and his lady ; an 
 English Jew and his wife, a native of Ply- 
 mouth; a young Austrian, with several indi- 
 viduals besides, who, playing no very marked 
 part in the little drama, have long ago been 
 forgotten. Then, again, there was the captain, 
 a native of Florence, a singularly handsome 
 man; of very agreeable manners, and nowise 
 disposed to underrate his own accomplishments. 
 An excellent linguist, he could converse with 
 facility in Italian, English, German, French, 
 Spanish, and even Hungarian. I do not know 
 
264 
 
 VOYAGE DOWN THE DANUBE. 
 
 what his merits might be as a seaman, but his 
 attention to his passengers was throughout un- 
 remitting, and he earned for himself in conse- 
 quence golden opinions everywhere, especially 
 among the fairer portion of the creation. 
 
 I am not going to give any details of " a 
 steam-voyage down the Danube." Ours, like 
 that which has been so well described already, 
 brought with it much to excite amusement and 
 something to produce inconvenience; for the 
 scenery around was interesting by reason of jts 
 novelty of character, and the manners of those 
 with whom we were thrown into such intimate 
 connexion, pleased us greatly. Nothing, indeed, 
 could be more imposing in its way than the 
 enormous plain over which, both to the right 
 and left, the eye ranged freely. No living 
 objects could have more entirely harmonized 
 with it than the strange gipsy-looking men who 
 were seen at various points, lounging by the 
 water's edge, in observation, as it appeared, 
 of certain herds of cattle and wild ponies that 
 were browsing far and near, as if in a state 
 of nature. Then, again, the floating mills, of 
 which Mr. Quin speaks ; the troops of horses, 
 plunging and capering, as by thirties and fifties 
 in a string, they dragged barges and larger craft 
 ao-ainst the current of the Danube ; the out- 
 
 
 VOYAGE DOWN THE DANUBE. 
 
 265 
 
 landish bearing of the peasants who drove 
 them, each mounted upon his favourite animal, 
 and each attending exclusively to the operations 
 of his own gang, whatever might be its numerical 
 strength ; these, as one after another the course 
 of the voyage brought them before us, were 
 observed and commented upon with all becom- 
 ing eagerness. It must be confessed, however, 
 that, though exceedingly interesting for awhile, 
 a panorama such as this soon palls upon you. 
 Th^ eye grows wearied with resting upon a 
 broad river, banked in by heaps of mud and 
 groves of willows; through the openings in 
 which are seen portions of a huge flat, — rich, 
 doubtless, and productive, but apparently in- 
 terminable. You pine for something more 
 definite, — some mountain range, or town, or 
 castle, or village ; and on the Danube, even as 
 elsewhere, your longing receives, in due time, its 
 accomplishment. Throughout the early part of 
 the day, the scene was, in every respect, such 
 as I have described it ; towards noon it under- 
 went a change, which became, from time to time, 
 more marked, and proportionably more agree- 
 able. 
 
 . When you have passed Folvar, and Paks, 
 and Tolna, the three most important places 
 which greet you during the first six hours of 
 
 VOL. III. N 
 
266 
 
 THE FIELD OF MOHACS. 
 
 your voyage, you enter upon a portion of the 
 Danube, which, after twisting and turning about 
 through a prodigious swamp, carries you into 
 a reo-ion, at once picturesque in its external 
 appearance, and singularly crowded with monu- 
 ments of Hungarian story. Conspicuous among 
 these is Mohacs, the scene of two mighty con- 
 tests, in which the Cross and the Crescent met 
 w ith alternate success : for in the former, fought 
 in 1526, the Moslem entirely prevailed ; in the 
 latter, which occurred just one hundred and 
 sixty years afterwards, he sustained a signal 
 defeat. It is curious enough, that in pointing 
 to the field of strife our Hungarian acquain- 
 tances spoke only of the former of these battles. 
 The triumphs of Prince Eugene and Charles of 
 Lorraine seemed to have, in their eyes, no inte- 
 rest whatever, wlien compared with the death 
 of their own Lewis II. and the conquests of 
 Solyman the Magnificent ; nor, perhaps, is the 
 circumstance greatly to be wondered at, when 
 we take into account the strong and laudable 
 nationality of feeling which is inherent in the 
 Hungarian character. Prince Eugene and 
 Charles of Lorraine were both foreigners, and 
 if they did free Hungary from the Turkish yoke, 
 it was to establish the dominion of an Austrian 
 over it. Lewis II. fell in a struggle to main- 
 
 *l 
 
 THE FIELD OF MOHACS. 
 
 267 
 
 tain the independence of a crown, as yet un- 
 connected with any other sovereignty. More- 
 over there was something peculiarly chivalrous 
 and melancholy in the death of Louis. With 
 thirty thousand men, the elite of the Magyar 
 chivalry, he attacked Solyman at the head of 
 two hundred thousand, and he perished in a 
 swamp, into which, with a handful of fugitives, 
 the tide of battle swept him. The swamp still 
 exists near the village of Czetze, and is dis- 
 tinctly visible from the river. 
 
 For some little time before we reached Mo- 
 hacs, the country on the right bank of the 
 Danube had become more bold and varied; 
 and now, for awhile, there were undulations 
 here and there, amid which villages, and towns, 
 and chateauxs, lay very prettily. We were 
 much surprised, moreover, to find, that the 
 population seemed everywhere on the alert. 
 As we approached each village it sent forth its 
 inhabitants in crowds, who saluted us with dis- 
 charges of cannon and musketry from the 
 river's bank, and a display of most multifa- 
 rious ensigns. On inquiring into the cause 
 of this bustle, I learned that Count Esterhazy,. 
 a cousin, I believe, of the Prince, had just 
 been elected vicegespan, or lord-lieutenant of 
 his own county; and that the good people, 
 
 N 2 
 
268 
 
 ANCHOR FOR THE NIGHT. 
 
 expecting his arrival among them by the steam- 
 boat, were waving their flags in order to testify 
 their satisfaction at the event. It was hardly 
 fair to permit the delusion to continue, inas- 
 much as once, at least, we lay-to within hail of 
 the shore ; but both the captain and his i)as- 
 sengers appeared to enjoy the joke, and the 
 process of saluting went on as heretofore. 
 
 I have alluded to certain inconveniences 
 which attend a steam voyage down the Danube. 
 They are experienced mainly after sunset ; for 
 the steam-vessels are not furnished with sleep- 
 ing accommodations of any sort, and you are 
 obliged to pass a night at anchor. Now, though 
 to bivQuac for a few hours can hardly be ac- 
 counted a hardship, whether these hours be 
 «pent on a hair cushion in the cabin, or under 
 the shelter of your cloak upon the deck ; yet 
 tlie grievance becomes serious when you find, 
 as in either situation you soon do, that every 
 assailable part of your body is given up as a 
 4)rey to swarms of insects. If you establish 
 yourself below, armies of fleas attack you ; if 
 you endeavour to escape from them by retreat- 
 ing to the deck, clouds of mosquitoes from the 
 swampy shore threaten to eat you up. I have 
 no hesitation to say, that the night which I 
 passed on the Danube was about as comfortless 
 
 i 
 
 f 
 
 RESUME THE VOYAGE. 
 
 269 
 
 a portion of my existence as I recollect any- 
 where to have spent, and that the memory of it 
 comes over me, at this moment, with a fresh- 
 ness which is by no means agreeable. 
 
 AVith the first peep of dawn our voyage was 
 resumed. It had been suspended only because 
 of the danger of grounding in the dark on one 
 or other of the innumerable shallows which 
 render tlie navigation of the Danube inconve- 
 nient; and it proved, in every point of view, 
 more agreeable than the experience of the pre- 
 ceding day might have led us to anticipate. It 
 is true, that the great plain continued unbroken ; 
 though even in that direction an object would 
 from time to time present itself, which we had 
 no disposition to pass unnoticed. Here, for 
 example, at Monosterszeg was the mouth of a 
 canal ^hich connects tlie Tlieiss with the Da- 
 nube; there, a few miles below, stood the 
 remains of Apatin, a town or large village, over 
 the greater portion of which the Danube, shift- 
 inof his channel in a flood, has rolled his M'aters. 
 But it was to the right that we chiefly directed 
 our gaze, where hill and grove began again to 
 show themselves, and the vineyard and the 
 corn-field, surrounding the habitations of men, 
 gave evidence of a flourishing and, as it seemed, 
 an industrious state of society. By-and-by, 
 
 ) 
 
270 
 
 APPROACH TO 
 
 the point was gained where the Draave pours 
 his flood into the Danube, giving a prodigious 
 addition to the volume of his waters, and en- 
 tirely changing their very hue. They were no 
 longer of a whitish green, as if their course lay 
 over a bed of chalk, but became dark and sullen 
 as we might expect to find them when forcing 
 their way through a soil so deep and rich as 
 tlmt which, on either hand, controls them. 
 
 From this moment till the apparition of Bel- 
 grade warned us that the voyage was drawing 
 to a conclusion, our j)rogress was in the highest 
 degree interesting. The plain to the left put 
 on, as it were, a new character, and spread out 
 before us a mighty forest ; on the right, towns, 
 villages, and chapels became more and more 
 abundant, and hill and dale appeared to vie 
 with each other in fertilitv. Vukovar was left 
 behind, Neusatz seen afar off, and the border of 
 the Military Counties gained at the bridge of 
 boats, which connects Carlowitz with Peterwar- 
 dein. These, and especially the former, are 
 fortresses of the second rank, which entirely 
 command the navigation of the Danube, and 
 the roads which pass on each side of it ; and 
 which bristling even in these peaceable times 
 with cannon, and swarming with troops, pre- 
 sented an exceediiigly formidable appearance. 
 
 1/ 
 
 SEMLIN. 
 
 271 
 
 But we did not delay to examine them longer 
 than was necessary to open for us a free channel 
 by removing some of the boats from their places. 
 On, then, we swept with all the rapidity which 
 the united force of steam and the current could 
 produce ; till passing the mouth of the Theiss, 
 we arrived about four in the afternoon at our 
 point of debarkation, and the ship's halting- 
 place for the night. 
 
 I 
 
272 
 
 11^ 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 APPROACH TO SEMLIN. SEMLIN. THE QUARANTINE STA- 
 TION. — THE MILITARY COUNTIES. 
 
 I HAVE seldom looked upon a scene which 
 appeared, on many different accounts, to ad- 
 vance stronger demands upon my curiosity, and 
 interest, than that which the approach of the 
 steam-vessel to its anchorage, opened up. In 
 the first place, the aspect of tilings has become 
 entirely different from aught on which, through- 
 out the downward passage, you have heretofore 
 been gazing. The Danube, swollen by the 
 accession of the Draave and the Theiss, and 
 receiving here into its capacious bosom the 
 waters of the Saave, assumes the appearance 
 rather of a lake or inland sea, than that of a 
 river. The forests that close him in on the 
 left, have become darker and deeper than be- 
 fore. The hills on the right have melted gra- 
 dually away, and now^ merge into one vast plain, 
 having neither rock nor mound, to interrupt 
 its sameness; unless the cliffs which imme- 
 diately overhang the river, may be so accounted. 
 
 SEMLIN AND BELGRADE. 
 
 273 
 
 Behind one of these, so as to be entirely con- 
 cealed till you have passed it, lies Semlin, — 
 a poor, mean, deserted-looking town ; while on 
 the opposite bank of the Saave, Belgrade lifts 
 up its head ; imposingly enough, as seen from 
 a distance, because crowning a circular hill, 
 and clustering round its base. In the next 
 place, you feel, while gazing upon the woods 
 and plains, that form your forward view, that 
 you have reached, at length, the very threshold 
 of Christendom. On this side the Saave, the* 
 cross surmounting tower and steeple, gives 
 notice that the Redeemer is worshipped; — on 
 the opposite side, the crescent, catching the 
 sun's rays, from minaret and mosque, proclaims 
 the ascendency of a meaner faith. Now, though 
 it be quite true that the day of Moslem power 
 has passed away, never in all probability to re- 
 turn, I defy any reflecting person to stand, as we 
 did then, midway between the fields on which 
 the battles of the rival creeds have so often 
 been fought, without losing sight for the moment 
 of the realities of present times, and living, in 
 imagination, entirely for the past. It is not of 
 the Sultan Mahmoud, and the Emperor Ferdi- 
 nand, — the one prostrate at the feet of the Au- 
 tocrat of the Russias; the other indulging in the 
 harmless pageantry of lepeated coronations, — 
 
 N S 
 
ill 
 
 i 
 
 274 
 
 RETROSPECTION. 
 
 that you think. Your mind wanders back to 
 times, when Mohammed II. threatened the 
 liberties of Europe, and John Corvin, the 
 gallant protector of Hungary, stayed his on- 
 ward progress ; when Belgrade, alternately lost 
 and won, formed an advanced post to Chris- 
 tendom, and the Danube and the Saave wit- 
 nessed deeds of heroism, such as they are not 
 likely, in a similar cause at least, to witness again. 
 Alas! it is but a profitless occupation, this 
 looking back upon glories that will not return. 
 Hungary, which stood ever in the forefront of the 
 battle, is now an independent kingdom only in 
 name; and Poland, which when even Hungarian 
 valour failed, came freely to the rescue, exists 
 no more. Yet it is not easy, at least here, on 
 the very border-line of Osmanlie, to forget that 
 such things were. 
 
 The arrival of the steam-boat at Semlin is an 
 event, in which the entire population of the 
 frontier town seems to take an interest. We 
 saw, as we approached the pier, that it was 
 crowded with spectators, and scarcely were the 
 moorings made fast, and a plank thrown to the 
 shore, ere a multitude of persons of all ranks 
 and degrees hurried on board. Among others, 
 the governor came, an old man, who had served 
 in the War of Liberation, and attained to the 
 
 THE GOVERNOR OF SEMLIN. 
 
 275 
 
 rank of general — ^bringing with him his wife, a 
 lady young enough to be his grand-daughter, 
 and two aides-de-camp. Yet his, like the visits 
 of less dignified personages, was a mere indul- 
 gence of justifiable curiosity. " What was going 
 on at Pesth ? how stood matters at Vienna ?" 
 These were the questions which he put; and 
 having received to them such answers as the 
 captain was either able or willing to give him, 
 he sought nothing more. 
 
 " Is this all the intercourse that takes place 
 between you?" demanded I. 
 
 " This is positively all," replied the captain ; 
 " the poor old man is here in a sort of honour- 
 able exile, of which the monotony is never 
 disturbed, except by our visits. It would be 
 cruel not to gratify the ruling passion of his 
 soul by telling him something. Accordingly, I 
 make a point of bringing him news, as well 
 from below as from above; and if there be 
 none really astir, I invent it. He always acts 
 as you have seen him act to-day. Whatever I 
 communicate, he receives as authentic, v^lth- 
 out troubling himself to inquire into my 
 authorities." 
 
 I do not know how far the captain's standard 
 of morals ought or ought not to be accounted 
 a just one, but I am quite sure that his motives 
 
276 
 
 SEMLIN. 
 
 iSiil 
 
 were kind; and good motives, in cases more 
 equivocal than this, may sometimes be treated 
 as the best criterion of men's actions. 
 
 The ship's deck was still thronged, when we 
 bade adieu to our fellow-travellers ; and, under 
 the guidance of an obliging countryman, who 
 acted as engineer on board, took the road to 
 Semlin. You approach the town by a cause- 
 way, which runs through the heart of an 
 immense swamp, — a fruitful source, especially 
 in the spring and fall of the year, of agues, and 
 intermittent fevers. Created long ago, as a 
 defence against Turkish aggression, it serves no 
 other purpose now than to mar the beauty of a 
 landscape, which might otherwise be very at- 
 tractive, and poison the atmosphere with the 
 noxious exhalations that are emitted from it. 
 For Semlin, though garrisoned by a battalion 
 of infantry, is no longer a fortified place ; and, if 
 it were, is incapable, because of the proximity 
 of heights, which on two sides entirely com- 
 mand it, of any protracted defence. There are 
 to be sure some stockades along the front which 
 is turned towards the Saave, as well as a gate 
 beside which a guard is always mounted ; but 
 stockades and a gate would be but a poor pro- 
 tection against the attacks of modern armies, 
 and confer no warlike character on the town 
 
 QUARANTINE ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 277 
 
 
 f 
 
 
 which can boast of them. I suspect, then, that 
 the continuance of the marsh, which no longer 
 undergoes even the cleansing process of an 
 occasional inundation, is owing more to the 
 indolence of the people than to any apprehen- 
 sion on the part of the authorities, that their 
 rest may be broken in upon some fine day, by 
 an irruption of Turks from Belgrade. 
 
 Semlin is remarkable only for the quarantine 
 establishment which is there kept up, as a pro- 
 tection against the plague. It consists of a 
 certain number of cells, with their respective 
 yards or courts palisaded round, and resembling 
 the cages of wild beasts in the Zoological gar- 
 dens; of the lodgings of those who attended 
 upon the inmates of these cells ; of two neat 
 little churches, one for the use of Roman 
 Catholics, the other set apart for the Greek 
 service ; and of a detached house in which 
 dwell the medical officers. With the excep- 
 tion of this last, all the other buildings are 
 inclosed by a lofty wall, within the circuit of 
 which is an area of perhaps three or four 
 hundred feet square; and as the cells are ranged 
 against the edge, and the churches occupy the 
 centre of the space, the effect to the eye is not 
 unpleasing. We were conducted, as strangers 
 freely are, through this open court, and we had 
 
278 
 
 QUARANTINE ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 
 an opportunity of looking from afar, on the 
 victims of the sanitory code, all of whom 
 chanced to be arrayed in the Turkish garb, and 
 all sat smoking within their cages, but we did 
 not venture to approach them. I need scarcely 
 add, that the periods of time during which the 
 quarantine regulations continue in force, vary 
 according to the healthy or unhealthy state of 
 the season elsewhere ; or that as the longest 
 term of confinement does not exceed forty 
 days, so, under the most favourable circum- 
 stances, the traveller from Turkey into Hun- 
 gary must endure, with patience, if he can, a 
 ten days imprisonment. With respect to mer- 
 chandize, on the other hand, such as bales of 
 cotton, and other articles which are supposed to 
 convey infection, a much less rigid discipline is 
 exercised. The authorities keep in their pay 
 a man who thrusts his bare arm, up to his 
 shoulder, into each bale as it arrives, and if, at 
 the end of three days, he exhibit no symptom 
 of illness, the goods, of whatever description 
 they may be, are passed on into the interior. 
 
 We were very desirous of passing over to Bel- 
 grade, where all the peculiarities of the Turkish 
 mode of life are just as broadly marked as in Con- 
 stantinople; and having learned in the course of 
 our voyage, that the work might without diffi- 
 
 aUARANTINE ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 279 
 
 
 culty be accomplished, we waited on the gover- 
 nor in order to solicit from him the necessary 
 permission. The custom is to send with the 
 stranger a couple of police officers as an escort, 
 who follow him wherever he goes, and closely 
 observe his proceedings. If he have resolution 
 enough to abstain from coming into personal 
 collision with the inhabitants, — if he neither 
 enter their dwellings, nor purchase aught at 
 their stalls, nor suffer any of them to touch him 
 even accidentally, then he may wander from 
 street to street at his pleasure, and return to 
 Semlin with his bill of health unpolluted. 
 But the slightest deviation from this rule, 
 whether it be voluntary, or the reverse, sub- 
 jects him to a ten days' quarantine. Alas! when 
 we came to petition in our own persons, for a 
 privilege which had been described to us as 
 universally granted, we found that the custom 
 once was, but that it existed no longer. There 
 had arisen, it appeared, an alarm of plague 
 across the Saave; and all communication 
 between the two countries was cut off. We 
 M'ere somewhat disappointed, as may be ima- 
 gined, yet we knew that remonstrance would 
 have been useless; so we returned to our inn 
 to sup, and to sleep, and to make other pre- 
 
280 
 
 THE MILITARY COUNTIES. 
 
 parations for the continuance of our journey on 
 the morrow. 
 
 Though not yet beyond the boundary line of 
 Hungary, we had now arrived at a portion of it 
 over which the common laws and customs of 
 the nation exercise no authority. From Neu 
 Orsova, a good Avay on the other side of the 
 Danube, to the shores of the Adriatic and the 
 Dalmatian frontier, there extends a belt of ter- 
 ritory for the most part very narrow, with here 
 and there a patch thrown down, as it were, in 
 the midst of districts differently constituted, 
 and one remarkable tongue of land interposing 
 between Croatia and Lower Hungary. Within 
 this belt military law, or rather military juris- 
 diction, entirely prevails. There every man 
 capable of bearing arms is a soldier ; every offi- 
 cer is likewise a magistrate, and from year's end 
 to year's end, neither officer nor soldier can be 
 said to live otherwise than he would were an 
 organized enemy in his front. As the state of 
 society in this district is, in itself, very peculiar, 
 and the order of control and management ob- 
 served in it, appears to have answered every 
 purpose for which it was invented, I do not 
 think that I shall commit an error if I give of 
 both a somewhat minute account ; — more espe- 
 
 THE MILITARY COUNTIES. 
 
 281 
 
 
 % 
 
 daily at a time like the present, when our own 
 American possessions seem to demand that 
 some system should be adopted of perpetual 
 defence on the frontier. I do not mean to say, 
 that with our peculiar feelings and habits, it 
 will be possible for us to act precisely on the 
 plan which Austria has so successfully pursued. 
 But seeing what Austria has done, in a posi- 
 tion not dissimilar to that in which we now 
 stand, and while the Canadas adhere to us, must 
 expect to stand towards the United States, it 
 is at least worth while to consider how far we 
 may follow in her footsteps, modifying our pro- 
 ceedings so as to meet the exigencies of the 
 times, without seriously wounding prejudices or 
 principles which are of much more importance 
 than temporary losses or gains. 
 
 From Neu Orsova to the Adriatic, there 
 may be, as the crow flies, a space of three 
 hundred and forty or fifty English miles ; if you 
 follow the great roads and other established 
 lines of communication, you will scarcely travel 
 from the one point to the other under five hun- 
 dred miles. The whole of this district, which, 
 except in the tongue of land alluded to above, 
 never exceeds, where it is the broadest, thirty 
 miles in width, is divided into fourteen counties, 
 each of which constitutes within itself a com- 
 
M 
 
 M 
 
 282 
 
 THE MILITARY COUNTIES. 
 
 pact community ; though all are held together 
 by the bond of a general responsibility to the 
 crown and its representatives. The supreme 
 authorities which represent the ' crown consist 
 first, of a governor, or commander-in-chief, 
 whose head-quarters are established, I believe, 
 at Peterwardein, and next of one or more gene- 
 rals subordinate to him, of whose stations I 
 cannot, except in a single instance, speak even 
 at random. This, however, is of the less con- 
 sequence, that in point of fact, the genemls 
 never interfere in the management of those de- 
 tails which give to the frontier districts their 
 peculiar character. They are mere links in the 
 chain which connects the emperor with the 
 peasant ; they are intended rather to take the 
 command in case a war should render a concen- 
 tration of force necessary, than as instruments 
 wherewith to control the inhabitants in times 
 of peace. It is to each county, therefore, con- 
 sidered as a thing apart, that we must look for 
 the information of which we are in search ; 
 and to one of these, no matter which, I accord- 
 ingly turn as to my model. 
 
 Let it be observed, in the outset, that with 
 the fortified places that lie within the limits of 
 these counties, or with places which take rank 
 as forts or festungs, we have here no concern. 
 
 STATE OF PROPERTY. 
 
 283 
 
 These, such as Semlin, Brod, Alt Gradisca, and 
 many more, being occupied by garrisons from 
 the regular Austrian army, have each its dis- 
 tinct commandant, and each its own peculiar 
 jurisdiction. But elsewhere, in the villages, in 
 the hamlets, and in the open towns, the usages 
 of the frontier hold good, and to these usages 
 our attention must be exclusively directed. 
 And first, with reference to the state of pro- 
 perty ; it is to be noted, that the land, whether 
 cultivated or waste, along the whole of this 
 border, belongs exclusively to the supreme 
 government. Not an individual subject, from 
 one extremity of the line to the other, can say, 
 This is my estate. His forefathers may have 
 occupied it for three generations, and he him- 
 self may be quite aware that he will never be 
 removed from it, yet has he over the soil no 
 proprietary right whatever ; it is vested exclu- 
 sively in the government. In like manner, the 
 individual members of each family have no 
 separate property in any thing which the estate 
 produces. As they are but tenants in common, 
 or colonists of the crown, so are their corn, 
 
 • 
 
 their cattle, their j^oultry, and their wool, the 
 common property of the household ; each mem- 
 ber of which receives, when the harvest is 
 gathered in, his or her separate share; the 
 
UVi 
 
 \\r 
 
 i\ 
 
 284 
 
 RENT PAID IN LABOUR. 
 
 head of all being favoured only in this, tliat his 
 portion is doubled. And let it be observed fur- 
 ther, that I am not now speaking of the sort of 
 family which is constituted as often as a young 
 man and a young woman marry. So long as 
 the father of the young man survives, he is the 
 recoirnised head of the stock, be it ever so 
 numerous. It is only on his demise that the 
 roots of new stocks, so to speak, are planted. 
 
 The inhabitants of a frontier county are all, 
 more or less, agriculturists, that is to say, every 
 family obtains a holding under the crown, and 
 makes the most of it. Each household, more- 
 over, grows its own wool, weaves its own cloth, 
 and makes its own wearing apparel ; while for 
 the holding which produces the materials of all 
 these, rent is paid in labour. The men, besides 
 the military service which is exacted from 
 them,— and of the extent of which I shall 
 take an opportunity to speak by-and-by, — culti- 
 vate, in addition to their own farms, both the 
 officers' portions and those which the govern- 
 ment keeps in its own hands. From the latter 
 toil they may indeed purchase an exemption,^ 
 provided they contrive, by any means, to obtain 
 the command of money ; but as this seldom, 
 if ever, happens to be the case, the privilege is 
 rather nominal than real. Moreover, there are 
 
 RENT PAID IN LABOUR. 
 
 285 
 
 public works, such as the making of roads, the 
 building of forts and magazines, and the c in- 
 struction and repair of the officers' lodgings, in 
 which, when required, they must busy them- 
 selves; the time which they spend in these 
 being carried to the credit side of their account 
 with the government. Such is the kind of rent 
 Miiich each man ])ays for his farm, and which is 
 regularly computed for him by a public ac- 
 countant. According to the extent and value 
 of his holding, he owes to the government a 
 certain quantity of labour, or else a certain 
 amount of money, for which the produce of that 
 labour is assumed to be an equivalent. 
 
 It is not, however, by the works of his hands 
 alone, during a given number of days in the 
 year, that the borderer purchases his right to till 
 his own fields, and gather in their produce. The 
 law imposes upon every male, so long as he is 
 capable of bearing arms, the liability to serve 
 as a soldier. Even in times of peace, each 
 county is required to keep on foot two batta- 
 lions of twelve hundred men a-piece ; while in 
 times of war, the levy is increased to four bat- 
 talions. But this is not all. Should an exi- 
 gency arise, the emperor has the right of 
 ordering out the entire male population. In 
 this case, all between the ages of eighteen and 
 
 . 
 
i! 
 
 
 I 
 
 286 
 
 RAIDS AND FORAYS. 
 
 thirty-six, are absolutely at the disposal of the 
 state; all above eighteen and below it, from 
 the ao-e of twelve, must arm to defend their 
 own fire-sides. Hence, if the active battalions, 
 as they are called, were marched away, en masse, 
 into Italy or elsewhere, the frontier duty would 
 still be carried on by old men and boys. 
 
 When the system was first invented, — and to 
 Prince Eugene belongs the merit of devising 
 it,— -there w^as perpetual Avar, or the hazard of 
 war, between Austria and Turkey. For many 
 years afterwards that danger continued, and 
 down to the present moment, the borderers on 
 both sides are pretty much in the state of our 
 own moss-troopers under the last of the Tudors. 
 No great w^hile, indeed, has elapsed, since so 
 fierce a raid was made from Turkish Croatia, 
 that the Austrian commandant at Agram took 
 the matter up, and gathering together a large 
 force, as well of regular as of irregular troops, 
 he executed a foray on true moss-trooping prin- 
 ciples, which the Turks are not likely soon to 
 forget. I do not find that, on an extensive 
 scale at least, the amusement has since been 
 repeated. But even the vigilance of the Granz 
 regiments, and it is great, does not alw^ays suf- 
 fice to keep off the smaller marauding parties, 
 which are ever ready for a burst, and which, 
 
 r 
 
 THE MILITARY ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 287 
 
 when they do succeed in breaking the cordon, 
 are not only troublesome as plunderers, but 
 commit the most savage atrocities on such as 
 fall into their hands. 
 
 Partly to protect their frontier against such 
 outrages, partly as a sanitory cordon, and partly 
 that the Austrian army may be increased, at a 
 very moderate expense, by thirty thousand su- 
 perb infantry, the government requires that 
 there shall be continually embodied in each 
 county, one regiment, consisting of two batta- 
 lions, that is, of two thousand five hundred men. 
 Chosen by ballot, out of the portion of the 
 males whose ages neither fall short, nor exceed 
 the specified limits, these battalions are ready 
 at any moment, to take the field, though they 
 never, unless an emergency occur, assemble to 
 manoeuvre, or exercise as regiments, except 
 during a single month in every year. Till the 
 harvest is gathered in, on the contrary, the men 
 dwell in their own homes, and in the bosom of 
 their own families, pursuing their daily occu- 
 pations like other peasants, and putting on the 
 military dress only one day in each week, every 
 man as his turn comes round, to take what 
 well deserves to be termed, the out-post duty. 
 For along the w^hole of the Turkish frontier, 
 there is a chain of posts established, — ^picquets 
 
288 
 
 GOVERNMENT OF THE COUNTIES. 
 
 '■I 
 
 in the most absolute sense of the term, — which 
 kee])ing from their elevated station-houses, a 
 sharp look-out during the day, push forward 
 their sentries at night, and so place them, that 
 each shall take his station within easy liail of 
 those on the right and left of him. Accordingly, 
 to an extent of nearly five hundred miles, you 
 may travel, if you please, in the immediate rear 
 of a line of sentinels, who look across the 
 Saave upon armed men ; — not, indeed, arranged 
 with equal regularity, nor yet clothed like 
 themselves in uniform, but bearing the outward 
 semblance of warriors, prompt either to attack 
 or to defend, alike willing to carry fire and 
 sword into Hungary, or to repel it, if brought 
 against themselves. The consequence is, that 
 no commercial intercourse whatever takes place 
 between the two countries, but at points tliat 
 are set apart for the purpose; and that indi- 
 vidual adventurers never pass to and fro, except 
 by eluding the notice of the guards, or forcing 
 the sentries. 
 
 The counties thus organized are governed, 
 both in their civil and military concerns, by 
 colonels, majors, captains, lieutenants, sergeant- 
 majors, sergeants, and corporals. Over the en- 
 tire county the colonel reigns, or appears to 
 reign, supreme. He keeps a map of his terri- 
 
 GOVERNMENT OF THE COUNTIES. 
 
 289 
 
 
 tory, in which every house, field, and even tree, 
 is set forth ; he visits the several dwellings of 
 his people once, at least, in every year; and he 
 receives reports from the functionaries that are 
 under him, as well periodically, as when some 
 sudden exigency may call for them. Next in 
 influence, as in rank, to the colonel, are the 
 lieutenant-colonels and majors, who superintend 
 respectively their half battalions, each of six 
 companies; — visiting household by household, 
 once in every half-year, and receiving the reports 
 of the captains, that they may be forwarded to 
 head-quarters. Last of all come the captains, 
 whose vigilance is in like manner taxed by the 
 necessity which is imposed upon them, of exe- 
 cuting monthly inspections, and who employ 
 both their lieutenants and sub-oflScers in the 
 superintendance of their respective squads, till 
 the order of responsibility is completed. It 
 follows, as a matter of course, that throughout 
 the entire range of these frontier counties, no 
 such thing as a secret can exist. Not only each 
 man's personal proceedings are known, but the 
 state of his very household; while those in 
 authority, check irregularities as soon as they 
 begin to show themselves, and incur no odium 
 whatever by doing so. 
 
 With all this show of power, and a great 
 
 VOL. III. o 
 
riti 
 
 ii 
 
 290 
 
 OFFICERS OF FINANCE. 
 
 deal of its substance to boot, it is not to be 
 imagined that either colonels, or majors, or 
 captains, are absolute in their respective depart- 
 ments. What the colonel is to the whole 
 county, the captain, no doubt, is to his portion 
 of it ; yet both colonel and captain are checked 
 in all directions by a machinery admirably 
 adapted to the uses which it is meant to serve. 
 There is associated, for example, with each cap- 
 tain, an officer of finance, or economy, on whom 
 the superintendence of all the fiscal affairs of 
 the company devolve. These, again, include the 
 balancing of accounts with the several families 
 within the circle, the fixing the amount of 
 produce that is due to each, the management 
 of the labour on the public works, and the 
 adjustment of the debtor and creditor reckon- 
 ings between those who execute, and the autho- 
 rities which require that labour. In like man- 
 ner, there resides, at the head-quarters of the 
 regiment, or county, a captain of finance, to 
 whom the subalterns acting with the various 
 companies report, and who, checking and au- 
 diting their accounts, is to the colonel what 
 they are respectively to the captains with 
 whom they serve. Nor does the matter end 
 even here. Subordinate to each finance-lieu- 
 tenant are a certain number of non-commis- 
 
 COUBTS OF JUSTICE. 
 
 291 
 
 sioned officers, who take charge of their re- 
 spective squads, and who, assembling from time 
 to time at the captain's office, in the chief 
 station of the company, have their accounts 
 examined, and corrected or passed, as the case 
 may require, to head-quarters. 
 
 JNIeanwhile, the law, which has thus nicely 
 adjusted the relation between ruler and subject, 
 is not neglectful of the interests of the latter 
 considered as a reasoning and a moral animal. 
 There is a well organized machinery in every 
 county, and in every department or district of 
 each county, for the administration of civil and 
 criminal justice. Once a week, at the chief 
 station of the company, or circle, a sort of ses- 
 sions is held by the officer of finance, where 
 meet together the sergeant-major, two sergeants, 
 and two corporals, all, like the officer, selected 
 from the finance department. In addition to 
 these, the colonel nominates two heads of 
 families — men of known good character and 
 respectability; and lo the court is complete. 
 Such is the tribunal which, subject to the appro- 
 bation of the captain, decides all questions of 
 disputed right, all complaints of trespass, all 
 claims of debt ; and which, as the parties com- 
 posing it are intimately acquainted with the 
 characters and condition of the litigants, is 
 
 o 2 
 
,! 
 
 292 
 
 COURT OF APPEAL. 
 
 found rarely to err in the award which it gives, 
 from the line of strict justice. From the deci- 
 sion of the district court, however, an appeal 
 lies to a court similarly constituted, at head- 
 quarters, where, over and above the finance 
 officers, three gentlemen, learned in the law, 
 deliver their opinions. They have been added 
 to the list of members because cases do some- 
 times arise, with which mere soldiers, however 
 honest in their purposes, know not how to 
 grapple ; and the consequence is, that by the 
 judgment of the lawyers, in all important mat- 
 ters, the court of appeal is guided. Yet it is 
 worthy of remark, that even in reference to 
 them, the esprit militaire suffers no abatement. 
 They dress as officers, they have rank in the 
 army as officers, and as officers in the army, 
 they are by the inhabitants regarded. 
 
 Equally simple in their construction, and 
 prompt in their proceedings, are the courts 
 which administer criminal justice in the bor- 
 -der counties. The same tribunal which decides 
 in civil cases, tries parties that are charged 
 with punishable offences. Over the troops 
 actually enrolled, indeed, the authority of 
 the officers is supreme; they carry on the 
 discipline of their respective battalions exactly 
 as military discipline is preserved elsewhere. 
 
 SUPREME CRIMINAL COURT. 
 
 293 
 
 But, persons not attached to these battalions, 
 whether they be men or women, are brought 
 before the monthly sessions, if suspected of 
 crime, and dealt with according to the decision 
 of the judges. The punishments, again, are 
 flogging with a stick, imprisonment, w^orking in 
 chains, and even death. It is worthy of remark, 
 however, that grave charges are not dealt with 
 except at the head-quarters of the county, where 
 a supreme court of criminal justice is presumed 
 to be always sitting. It consists of a chef-de- 
 battailon, as president, of an auditor, who acts 
 likewise as a judge-advocate, of two captains, 
 two sergeant-majors, two corporals, and two 
 private soldiers. I never heard but one opinion 
 expressed, as to the perfect impartiality and 
 fairness of this tribunal ; while a further pro- 
 tection is afforded to the inhabitants in this, 
 that no punishment can be carried into effect, 
 till the colonel shall have examined the evi- 
 dence, and approved the sentence. 
 
 I have stated, that the system of management 
 for the Granz Comitates was originally in- 
 vented by Prince Eugene; it is but fair to add, 
 that from the French Marshal Lascey it received 
 many improvements. Its results have been, to 
 render these frontier districts at once the most 
 tranquil, and the best ordered portion of Hun- 
 
 ! 
 a < 
 
294 
 
 GENERAL SYSTEM 
 
 OF MANAGEMENT. 
 
 295 
 
 'i\\ 
 
 n 
 
 i 
 
 111 
 
 m 
 
 gary. Poor the people are; that is to say, 
 nobody, be his rank what it may, can boast of 
 a superfluity of coined money; but the neces- 
 saries of life are everywhere abundant, and all, 
 without exception, have a share in them. In 
 a military point of view, again, no arrangements 
 could be devised, better adapted to give to the 
 government of the country, the command of a 
 large and efficient army, w^hich costs next to 
 nothing. For the soldiers of the Granz regi- 
 ment receive no pay, except for the days when 
 they are actually on duty; and during the month 
 when the regiments are embodied and brought 
 together, for purposes of training. The officers, 
 indeed, are paid, on the same scale with officers 
 of the line, because they are not permitted, as 
 individuals, to occupy more land than may be 
 included in the gardens which attach to their 
 respective dwellings ; but the men receive the 
 reward of their services in the lands that are 
 allotted ta them, and in the quiet enjoyment 
 of the crops which they produce. Moreover, 
 every detail, both of public duty and private 
 business, is carried on under the surveillance of 
 the authorities. From time to time the hold- 
 ings of the several families are inspected, after 
 which written accounts are handed to the head 
 of each, setting forth the amount of his pos- 
 
 II 
 
 sessions, and the value attached to them as 
 reckoned in labour. The cattle, also, of the 
 family, the horses and stock, are all numbered 
 and enrolled. Again, it is the officer of finance 
 who decides what portions of land shall be 
 cultivated from year to year, what seed sown, 
 what quantity of grain laid up in the public 
 magazines, what set apart for general consump- 
 tion. In like manner as the members of each 
 family, however numerous, are assumed to 
 have a common interest in the property that 
 belongs to it, so the entire county or regiment 
 is made to participate in the profits which ac- 
 crue from the paid labour of its several mem- 
 bers. The custom of forstban, for example, 
 prevails here, as well as in other parts of 
 Hungary; with this variety of usage, — that 
 whereas elsewhere an order from Vienna will 
 serve your purpose everywhere, just as the 
 march-route, granted by the authorities in any 
 particular county, suffices for that county and 
 none other; — here, on the military frontier, the 
 right of granting such march-route belongs 
 exclusively to the commanders of stations. 
 Whatever money is earned by such means the 
 finance officer receives, and it is carried, like 
 the men s earnings on the public works, to the 
 credit of the common fund. 
 
f ; 
 
 296 
 
 EFFICIENCY OF THE 
 
 GRANZ REGIMENTS. 
 
 297 
 
 t 
 
 'I 
 
 The government is very strict in requiring 
 from each family periodical returns of the num- 
 bers of its male members, within the ages of 
 eighteen and thirty-six. It is likewise per- 
 fectly impartial in the selection which it makes 
 from the whole body, as recruits may be want- 
 ing. The results are that there is no where the 
 slightest disposition to evade the conscription 
 where it falls; and that active service is re- 
 garded as the lot of all men. I have heard it 
 computed that, throughout other provinces of 
 the Austrian empire, the proportion of regi- 
 ments embodied is as one to every four hun- 
 dred thousand inhabitants. Along tlie Turkish 
 frontier this ratio is taken at one regiment for 
 every fifty thousand persons. But the mere 
 increase to the amount of the standing army of 
 Austria is the most inconsiderable advantage 
 which the government derives from the system. 
 The Granz regiments are not only the least ex- 
 pensive, but they are the most efficient corps in 
 the service. They are composed of men who 
 imbibe military ideas with their mothers' milk, 
 who grow up from boyhood in military subor- 
 dination, who live in the continual exercise of 
 daring, and vigilance, and self-command, and so 
 even in seasons of recognised peace possess all 
 the quickness, and intelligence, and courage that 
 
 belong to veterans. I was assured, by one who 
 was well qualified to give an opinion, that when 
 the Carbonari were troublesome in Italy some 
 years ago, and the Austrians moved an army to 
 suppress them, there was no portion of the in- 
 fantry to be compared with the frontier regi- 
 ments, not only in appearance, but in discipline, 
 quickness, capability of enduring fatigue, and 
 all the other qualities which constitute good 
 troops. Yet these men live six days out of the 
 seven as other peasants do ; and put on their 
 uniform only when their tour of duty re- 
 quires it. 
 
 One word more concerning the condition of 
 these people, and I pass on to other subjects^ 
 The government is not even subjected to the 
 expense of clothing them. Their arms, accoutre- 
 ments, and, I believe, boots and shoes, they 
 receive from the public stores ; but their coats 
 and hosen they grow, and weave, and fabricate^, 
 and dye at home. Moreover, there is among- 
 them neither care for the morrow, nor repining 
 over the events of yesterday. As their numbers 
 increase the government allots fresh farms for 
 their maintenance, and thereby strengthens its 
 own available resources, without, in the most 
 trifling degree, increasing the drain upon the 
 public treasury. 
 
 3 
 
W'¥ \ 
 
 11 
 
 298 
 
 THE MILITARY COUNTIES. 
 
 Such was the portion of Hungary, through 
 which, when satiated with Semlin, we proposed 
 to make our way. Of the events that befell us, 
 both then and afterwards, I shall speak in 
 another chapter. 
 
 299 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 JOURNEY TO MOROVITCH. STRANGE ASPECT OF THINGS, 
 
 ANIMATE AND INANIMATE. MOROVITCH. VISITED BY 
 
 THE CAPTAIN. VINKOVEZE. NEU GRADISKA. THE 
 
 VICE-BAN MARCHOVICZ. 
 
 The country round Semlin, except where some 
 low hills overhang the Danube, is one immea- 
 surable flat. As far as the eye could reach, 
 moreover, no symptoms of town or village were 
 discernible ; and the woods having been cleared 
 away, the whole face of the plain was covered 
 with corn-fields. Who could think of com- 
 mencing a pedestrian expedition there? We 
 saw at once that such a project would be mad- 
 ness; so we sent for a peasant over-night, made 
 a bargain with him for his wagons and horses, 
 and finding him true to the time appointed 
 in the morning, placed ourselves on the rude 
 seat which with straw and rug he had fabri- 
 cated, and set forth. 
 
 We had heard much of the dull and monoto- 
 nous character of the great plain of Hungary. 
 We had now a veritable specimen of it before 
 us ; for many long and weary miles we drove 
 
300 
 
 THE PLAIN OP HUNGARY. 
 
 
 I 
 
 ill 
 
 ere so much as a cottage made its appearance, 
 and all the while the corn waved on either 
 hand, rank and luxuriant. Yet, singular as to 
 us this state of things appeared, it is but a 
 copy, and an imperfect one, of what prevails 
 elsewhere. There are parts of the country, 
 especially in the great plain of the Theiss, 
 where you may travel an entire day without 
 encountering either the houses or the faces of 
 men ; and all the while your route will be 
 through fields, loaded with abundant crops of 
 wheat and rye. Moreover, the customs of the 
 people who occupy that plain are, to the full, 
 as striking as the external appearance of the 
 country; and it may be well if I describe 
 them. 
 
 The long and fierce wars which Hungary 
 sustained with Turkey, and the exposure of 
 these open districts to perpetual invasion, first 
 induced the inhabitants to congregate into 
 heaps; and the habits then contracted have 
 never since been laid aside. Accordingly, there 
 are no such things as villages and hamlets, far 
 less detached dwellings, to be seen anywhere ; 
 but at remote intervals one from another, you 
 come upon towns — towns of the veriest huts — 
 where dwell six, eight, ten, and sometimes as 
 many as thirty thousand peasants together. 
 
 I 
 
 li I 
 
 CUSTOMS OF JHE PEOPLE, 
 
 301 
 
 How they preserve order among themselves I do 
 not know ; for their magistrates seem to possess 
 little influence over them; yet they do live 
 peaceably enough; and, though all are poor, and 
 squalid, and filthy to a degree, there seems to 
 be a perfect indifference to the evils which 
 poverty and squalor bring with them. They are 
 to a man agriculturists. It is by the labour of 
 their hands that the boundless plains, through 
 which you have travelled, are cultivated ; and 
 the process by which the mighty opemtion is 
 performed is this. 
 
 When the season for ploughing and sowing 
 comes round, the males march in a body from 
 their homes. They erect wigwams, or huts, 
 here and there in the fields ; and then setting 
 to work, they toil from Monday till Saturday, 
 living on the provisions which they may have 
 brought with them, and sleeping at night in 
 their bivouac. On Saturday they all return to 
 the town, and do not leave it again till Monday. 
 In this manner the first processes are carried 
 through, and when all the seed has been scat- 
 tered, the people march back to their perma- 
 nent habitations, there to abide in idleness and 
 filth, till some fresh operation becomes neces- 
 saryf Finally, when harvest is ready, the 
 bivouac is resumed ; the women coming forth 
 
302 
 
 LONELINESS OP THE COUNTRY. 
 
 THE HUNGARIAN WOLF-DOG. 
 
 303 
 
 1 
 
 f I 
 
 
 jl- 
 
 li^ 
 
 this time to assist in getting it in. And as the 
 completion of the sowing season sent them 
 back to the town, so when reaping ends, the 
 huts are abandoned. In the particular counties 
 through which we were now passing, things can 
 hardly be said to extend this length. It has 
 been the policy of the government to promote, 
 as much as possible, the building of permanent 
 villages everywhere ; and these, though few and 
 far between, we found to be at least sufficiently 
 abundant to preclude the necessity of having 
 recourse to the process of bivouacking. 
 
 I hardly know in what order to begin for the 
 purpose of describing the events that occurred 
 during the first stage in our tour of the military 
 counties ; not one of which might be, in itself, 
 deserving of especial record, though the whole 
 combined to render the day an era in the exist- 
 ence of the travellers. I say nothing of the 
 effect produced upon us by the interminable 
 corn-fields already referred to ; nor of the sense 
 of loneliness which came over us when mile 
 after mile was traversed without an opportunity 
 being presented to us of exchanging salutations 
 with a being of our own order. But I must 
 allude to the single circumstance which broke 
 in upon the monotony of the scene, because it 
 struck me at the moment, and strikes me still, 
 
 as having been, in every sense of the expres- 
 sion, highly characteristic. We had heard a 
 great deal of the wolf-dog which is bred in 
 Hungary, an animal of prodigious size and cou- 
 rage: but withal treacherous and unsafe, ex- 
 cept with its master and those to whom it is 
 accustomed. It had been my wish to procure 
 one, and after looking out in many places with- 
 out effect, I purchased, at Semlin, a puppy, 
 which was described to me as of the purest and 
 most unexceptionable breed. Strange to say, 
 we had not even seen one of these creatures ; 
 but to-day as we travelled along, we beheld, in 
 a field to the right of us, an animal which ap- 
 peared to move with extraordinary agility, and 
 so tall, that his head, and sometimes his back, 
 appeared above the standing corn through which 
 he was galloping. We watched him atten- 
 tively, and as he chanced to arrive at an open 
 meadow we saw that he was a dog, quite white, 
 with long shaggy hair, and larger than the 
 largest sized Newfoundland which I, at least, 
 have encountered. He was evidently hunting ; 
 for his nose was to the ground, and he went on 
 at a rapid canter, as if secure of his trail. 
 
 We journeyed on, the dog keeping parallel 
 with us ; till, by-and-by, he set off at an accele- 
 rated pace, and we lost him. It never entered 
 
 ."i 
 
 « 
 
i 
 
 m 
 
 304 
 
 HALF-SAVAGE STATE OF SOCIETY 
 
 into our thoughts that we should meet him 
 again, but in this we were deceived. We 
 arrived in due time at a part of the road by the 
 side of which a dead horse was lying ; and there, 
 feasting upon the carrion like a beast of prey, 
 stood the superb animal whose progress we had 
 been watching. The fact seems to have been 
 that he snuffed the carcass from afar, and, like 
 a wolf, which in all its habits, save only in his 
 attachment to man, he resembles, he went with 
 the breeze till he reached his prize, and now 
 was devouring it. There had been other crea- 
 tures at work before him, — a carrion crow or 
 two, and a filthy buzzard ; but he drove them 
 off as often as they attempted to share his feast, 
 and claimed the entire carcass as his own. 
 
 It struck me that one might search far and 
 near without discovering, either within doors or 
 without, a more palpable proof of the anoma- 
 lous and half-savage state of society than this 
 simple scene between the hunting-dog and the 
 dead horse afforded. We had not, however, 
 gone very far beyond the wolf-dog and his prey, 
 ere a new scene opened upon us. We ap- 
 proached a village, — a strange wild Oriental- 
 looking place, — with all its houses planted 
 apart^one from the other, and each surrounded 
 by its own little enclosure. There was, how- 
 
 ON THE FRONTIER. 
 
 305 
 
 ever, a place of worship in the settlement, 
 which, more than any other edifice, gives to the 
 ocality where men are congregated, an air of, 
 at least, incipient civilization ; and though dedi- 
 cated to the service of the Greek church, it was 
 not on that account lightly esteemed in our 
 eyes. And here I may observe, once for all, 
 that throughout the frontier counties the mem- 
 bers of the Greek church are quite as numerous 
 as the members of the Church of Rome. Nay, 
 more. Protestants are here, Calvinists, Lu- 
 therans, and sundry sects besides, to whom, not 
 less than to Jews and even to Mohammedans, 
 the most absolute toleration is given ; nor does 
 it seem to enter into the heads of these well- 
 drilled peasants that any necessity exists for quar- 
 relling with any human being because of his reli- 
 gion. For the present, however, we had other 
 matters to attend to. Our postilion, alive to 
 the wants of his cattle, which, from five o'clock 
 to eleven, had held their course unfalteringly, 
 proposed to bait ; and as we too felt that to tax 
 them further would be cruel, we readily fell in 
 with his proposal. Accordingly, he drove to 
 the door of a little inn, where, under the shade 
 of some pollarded trees, he halted ; and slipping 
 the bits out of the ponies' mouths, and giving 
 them water from a well hard by, he first scat- 
 
SI 
 
 liii' 
 
 I 
 
 ii 
 
 l"1 
 
 il 
 
 306 
 
 HALF-SAVAGE STATE OF SOCIETY 
 
 tered a parcel of hay before them, from a 
 sack on which we had been sitting, and then 
 dived into the auberge, leaving us to our 
 meditations. 
 
 Strange, wild, and un-European, were the 
 tableaux which passed in quick succession 
 before our eyes. The style of the houses, 
 the dresses of the men, their swarthy com- 
 plexions, and dark moustaches, had a character 
 about them quite peculiar. Loud and inhar- 
 monious, too, was the hubbub of voices which 
 issued from the room to which our driver had 
 retreated, and out of which came group after 
 group of most uncivilized-looking beings, to 
 stare at us. Then, again, the women and chil- 
 dren,— the former lying for the most part at 
 length near their own doors, the latter running 
 about in a state very little removed from nudity, 
 resembled none of their species with whom in 
 other parts of the world we had made acquaint- 
 ance. The first were very filthy, very dark, 
 very indolent, and, as it seemed, very good- 
 humoured ; the last shouted and squalled, and 
 crawled about exactly as we should expect 
 children to do, to whom nature had as yet been 
 the only guide, and who were not likely to be 
 placed under the management of any other. 
 Having waited with remarkable patience a 
 
 ON THE FRONTIER. 
 
 307 
 
 good hour, during which our peasant seemed 
 more disposed to attend to his own comforts 
 than to those of his horses, we prevailed upon 
 him to resume his seat, and our journey was 
 resumed. There was no change, either in the 
 general aspect of things around us, or in the 
 impression which it made upon our own minds. 
 Corn-fields — luxuriant corn-fields — with here 
 and there a meadow, seemed to be interminable, 
 without fence, or hedge, or ditch, or any other 
 species of line to mark the bounds of individual 
 holdings, or guard against involuntary trespass. 
 Moreover, we beheld in these meadows, small 
 groups of persons attending to their vocations, 
 shepherds, or keepers of cattle, or swine-herds, 
 very many of them armed with muskets, and 
 all attended by their dogs, while occasionally a 
 peasant would meet us, armed in like manner, 
 even though his implements of husbandry were 
 about him. Such, indeed, is part of the training 
 which the inhabitants of the frontier counties 
 undergo, and of which it is the effect to render 
 them brave and self-collected under every emer- 
 gency. They do not know when a body of 
 marauders may break through the line of guards, 
 and so each man is prepared to defend himself 
 if attacked, either singly, or in conjunction with 
 those beside whom he is pursuing his labours. 
 
 
308 
 
 KEACH MITROVICZ. 
 
 A HUNGARIAN FAIR. 
 
 309 
 
 We had agreed with our postilion to convey 
 us only as far as Ruina, a place distant from 
 Semlin about thirty English miles, where we 
 fully calculated on being able to procure a fresh 
 wagon, such carriages having been represented 
 to us as everywhere attainable; but we were 
 mistaken. The harvest was just beginning, and 
 no arguments on our part could prevail on the 
 peasants to withdraw their horses from the 
 fields, even though we offered to pay them 
 whatever tliey might choose to demand. Un- 
 der these circumstances, we had nothing for it 
 but to appeal to the good-nature of our Semlin 
 driver ; and to stimulate him to the exercise of 
 his benevolence by the temptation of a double 
 hiring. Fortunately for us, this latter induce- 
 ment overcame his scruples, and he consented 
 to carry us on to Mitrovicz, one stage further 
 in advance. Accordingly, having delayed about 
 a couple of hours, during which both men and 
 horses refreshed themselves, we resumed our 
 progress about three o'clock, and long before 
 five found ourselves in the very midst of a fair 
 which happened that day to be held in Mitrovicz. 
 
 A. fair in one of these frontier towns of Hun- 
 gary resembles, in its bustle and excitement, 
 a similar gathering anywhere else : in the cos- 
 tumes and general appearance of the throngs 
 
 which are brought together, it probably stands 
 alone. It would be useless in me, however, to 
 attempt anything like a description of it. Pea- 
 sants were here in their best attire,— generally 
 brown cloth jackets and wide trousers, with 
 steeple-crowned hats, very broad in the brim, 
 and waistcoats of gaudy colours, buttoned up to 
 the chin with small silver coins. Eidelmen from 
 the interior, moved more solemnly about, with 
 their wide cloaks wrapped round them, and 
 jingling enormous pairs of spurs on the heels 
 of their untanned boots. There was a priest 
 of the Greek church, in his blue robe and 
 long beard; here a Mussulman, turbaned 
 and° moustached, and his girdle stuck full of 
 pistols and yatagans. Soldiers of the Granz 
 regiment swelled the crowd, in their neat brown 
 uniforms ; women, merry and free, with their 
 scanty petticoats, and handkerchiefs on their 
 heads, flitted backwards and forwards; while 
 stalls of every description blocked up each street, 
 and shouting, and laughter, mingled in their 
 turns, with a great deal of indifferent music, 
 both instrumental and vocal. In like manner 
 the inns were filled with people, eating, drink- 
 ing, smoking, bargaining, jeering;— it was, in 
 short, a scene of absolute confusion, out of 
 which, after we had cast a hurried glance over 
 
310 
 
 TURKISH SIDE OF THE SAAVE. 
 
 HUNGARIAN PICQUET-HOUSES. 
 
 311 
 
 it, we were anxious to escape ; and very thank- 
 ful we were, to find that the means of doing so 
 were at hand. 
 
 There were plenty of wagons in the market- 
 place, which having arrived in the morning 
 with articles of barter, were now at the disposal 
 of anybody who might wish to hire them, for 
 they were empty. With the owner of one of 
 these, we made a bargain, and finding that there 
 was a town called Morovitch, about a couple of 
 stages a-head, where quarters for the night were 
 to be procured, we desired our peasant to direct 
 his steps thither. It was, upon the whole, one 
 of the most agreeable little journeys which we 
 executed in this quarter ; and not the less so, be- 
 cause of a slight unnecessary excitement which 
 attended the latter portion of it In the first 
 place, the road, winding parallel for some dis- 
 tance with the Saave, brought us midway, as it 
 were, between the Hungarian and Turkish out- 
 posts; that is to say, so placed us, that with 
 the river separating us from the latter, we were 
 yet during a considerable space, forty or fifty 
 yards in front of the former. Of the Turks, I 
 saw but little. They appeared, indeed, if any 
 watch was kept at all, to keep it very carelessly; 
 for they had no line of station-houses similar 
 to that upon our right, and showed no or- 
 
 ganized force capable of battle. On our side of 
 the river, on the contrary, everything reminded 
 me of years gone by. At intervals of perhaps 
 an English mile apart, stood a range of small 
 square cottages, or rather turrets, the approach 
 to each of which was by a detached ladder, such 
 as could at any moment be drawn up. More- 
 over, the turret itself was rendered defen- 
 sible by means of a sort of covered balcony 
 that ran round it, where men, sheltered from 
 the weather by a projecting roof, could yet 
 stand and fire over a parapet, or breast-work, 
 in every direction. Then, again, we saw, rising 
 above that parapet, the muzzles of some six or 
 eight muskets, with bayonets attached to them ; 
 while round the picquet-house itself, soldiers 
 were lounging, some sleeping, some chatting, 
 and one or two busily engaged with dice or 
 dominoes. And finally, we came, from time to 
 time, upon a sentry, half-hidden by the stem of 
 a tree, or the screen of a hedge,— not the sort 
 of spruce and well set-up animal whom we see 
 every day in St. James's Park, but a soldier 
 ready for the field, sharp in his gaze, rough in 
 his bearing, and taking as much rest as might 
 be compatible with the efficient discharge of 
 his duty. I could not behold all this without 
 reverting to times when, on the banks of the 
 
312 
 
 A FALSE ALARM. 
 
 ARRIVE AT MOROVITCH. 
 
 313 
 
 Bidassoa, or beside the waters of the Mississippi, 
 such exhibitions used to be familiar to me ; and 
 I trust that no great crime was committed, if 
 there did arise a feeling somewhat akin to 
 regret, that the times in question should have 
 passed away, yet left so little beyond the memo- 
 ries that are associated with them, in accom- 
 plishment of the hopes which they created and 
 fostered. 
 
 So long as the road ran parallel with the 
 Saave, the objects which I have just described 
 gave occupation both to the senses and the 
 feelings. Moreover, the natural scenery was, 
 on both sides of the river, much more attractive 
 than it had heretofore been; for enormous 
 forests had taken the i)lace of corn-fields, and 
 there were, here and there, clearances in their 
 depths, which had an exceedingly picturesque 
 effect. By-and-by, however, we struck inland 
 again ; and then all traces of the soldiery and 
 their posts disappeared. I am not quite sure 
 that the circumstance entirely pleased us. We 
 were well armed, it is true, that is to say, 
 each of us carried a double-barrelled pistol, and, 
 in addition to my couteau de chasse, my young 
 companion had a sharp spear-head, which was 
 made to screw into the end of his gaff-stick at 
 pleasure. Yet we did not feel entirely at ease, 
 
 when the shades of night began to gather round 
 us, and we looked out from our open wagon on 
 forests which, for aught we knew to the con- 
 trarv, mi^ht be infested with brigands. More- 
 over, the sense of insecurity was not diminished 
 when there presently met us three men, dressed 
 like peasants, yet each carrying over his shoulder 
 a much more efficient weapon than a pistol, — a 
 lono- fowling-piece. I am now satisfied that the 
 circumstance which caused us at the moment 
 to ascertain that the caps of our pistols were 
 in their right places, ought, in point of fact, to 
 have been regarded as a strong evidence of our 
 safety. These armed men constituted one of 
 the patrols which, passing to and fro all night 
 long, from the head-quarters of the nearest 
 company to the outposts, afford an additional 
 protection against surprise, by ascertaining that 
 no enemies have stolen through the advanced 
 line, and that the roads are in other respects 
 
 safe. 
 
 It was quite dark when we arrived at Moro- 
 vitch, and the inn to which we were driven had 
 little in its external character to recommend it. 
 It was, in truth, a very wretched hovel, yet we 
 succeeded in procuring an apartment for our- 
 selves, and in due time, supper and a tolerable 
 flask of wine made their appearance. We had 
 
 VOL. III. P 
 
814 
 
 OUR PASSPORT DEMANDED. 
 
 1 i 
 
 not sat down to them, however, ere we were 
 made to feel that police regulations. — of which, 
 since our arrival in Hungary, we had lost sight, 
 -—existed in full force here on the frontier. A 
 corporal entered, and, in respectful but soldier- 
 like terms, demanded a sight of our passport. 
 We gave it to him immediately, and saw him, 
 without the slightest misgiving, carry it away 
 that it might be submitted to the captain's in- 
 spection. And then we addressed ourselves to 
 the provend. It was neither very delicate nor 
 very skilfully cooked, yet it made but a poor 
 stand against our onslaught, and the sleep that 
 followed, despite of the lively opposition of a 
 whole swarm of insects, was sound and re- 
 freshing. 
 
 We were up with the lark, and anxious to 
 pursue our journey ; but this we found to be a 
 measure beset with greater difficulty than over- 
 night we had taken into our calculations. It 
 was necessary, in the first place, to await the 
 captain's visit, who desired to return to us 
 our passport with his own hands ; and, in the 
 next place, there was no bouern-post to be pro- 
 cured. Here, as well as in the vicinity of 
 Ruma, the harvest was in progress; and nobody 
 could be prevailed upon by any amount of hire 
 to interrupt so necessary an operation. I must 
 
 VISITED BY THE CAPTAIN. 
 
 315 
 
 do the captain the justice to observe, however, 
 that the impediment occasioned by his pro- 
 mised visit was soon removed. We had not 
 yet finished breakfast, when he came ; and very 
 polite and well-bred, though justifiably inquisi- 
 tive, he proved to be. Nay, more ; on stating 
 to him the dilemma into which we were 
 thrown, he very kindly offered us a forstban ; 
 and greatly as we should have preferred a 
 voluntary agreement with a peasant, we were 
 too much at the mercy of circumstances not 
 to avail ourselves of the indulgence. Accord- 
 ingly, the same corporal who had introduced 
 himself to us over-night, was despatched to 
 bring in the wagon and horses; and we, in 
 order to while away the interval, which from 
 previous experience we knew would be great, 
 sallied forth to look about us. 
 
 Morovitch, the head-quarters of a company, 
 or circle, is a small town, or rather a large vil- 
 lage ; the most conspicuous objects in which 
 are the church and guard-house ; the former, 
 merely because it is a place of worship, though 
 a small one ; the latter, in consequence of the 
 warlike character which its presence, and that 
 of the soldiers who lounge about its front, 
 give to the entire scene. The town stands 
 upon the Spaczva, one of the many tributary 
 
 P 2 
 
316 
 
 UNSUCCESSFUL ANGLING. 
 
 •w 
 
 ( 
 
 III 
 
 streams which, from either side, fall into the 
 Saave, and swell its volume of water; but which, 
 muddy and dark, because holding its course 
 through a rich alluvial soil, is very little tempt- 
 ing to the angler. Yet is it full of fish ; carp, 
 I suspect, or some other huge monster, which 
 springs greedily enough at the natural fly, but 
 positively refuses that which is artificial; for 
 though we flogged its slimy surface throughout 
 a good hour, and gave its occupants the choice 
 of our whole stock, not one could we allure to 
 his destruction. This was the more provoking, 
 that our fishing-rods proved to be here, as they 
 had been in Bohemia, sources of endless won- 
 derment to the natives. They could not be 
 made to understand the uses either of the rods 
 themselves, or of the tackle which is appended 
 to them ; and when they saw us address our- 
 selves to angling, there was no end to their 
 astonishment. I am afraid that the impression 
 left on their memories is much less favourable 
 to our sagacity, than that which we created 
 beside the Iser. We did not get so nmch as a 
 rise, and left off at last, in sheer despair. 
 
 3y this time the forstban was ready; and, 
 discharging our bill, and remunerating the civil 
 corporal for the trouble he had taken, we 
 pushed forward. I willingly omit all notice of 
 
 MAGNIFICENT FORESTS. 
 
 317 
 
 the scenery through which we passed. In its 
 essential features it resembled exactly the dis- 
 trict which, during the last stage in our yester- 
 day's progress, we had traversed. Everywhere 
 there is a huge plain around you ; though the 
 magnificent forests that clothe it produce an 
 effect far more agreeable, than the prodigious 
 crops of wheat and rye which meet your gaze 
 more in the interior. But I must not omit to 
 mention, that the prevailing woods were the 
 oak and the beech, and that both kinds of trees 
 grew to a size which was remarkable. I should 
 think that out of these forests— for they extend 
 into the Turkish provinces, as well as into Hun- 
 gary,— a navy might be built, larger by far than 
 that of all the powers of Europe put together. 
 Moreover, to-day, as yesterday, we came from 
 time to time to places, where the wood having 
 been cleared away, there had arisen in its room 
 a village, surrounded by its fields, chiefly of 
 maize, between the rows of which, melons and 
 gourds grew in great abundance. All this 
 carried me more and more, in imagination, 
 beyond the limits of western Europe ; and in 
 justice to myself I am bound to add, that there 
 were other reasons why the delusion should 
 have kept its place in my mind with singular 
 tenacity. 
 
318 
 
 ORIENTAL CHARACTER 
 
 OF THE INHABITANTS. 
 
 319 
 
 It struck me that the farther we proceeded 
 in this coasting expedition the more strongly 
 marked were the evidences that were afforded 
 of an Oriental character as attaching to the in- 
 habitants of the district. To-day, for example, 
 we saw women working in the fields, with only 
 a loose chemise thrown over them. In the same 
 attire they were walking with pitchers on their 
 heads, which they had just filled, or which some- 
 body had filled for them, from one or other of 
 the draw-wells that we observed by the roadside. 
 Then came men equipped in linen dresses, most 
 of them wearing calabashes, or dried gourds, at 
 their backs ; while the very cattle, humped on 
 the shoulder, and exhibiting long and crooked, 
 but very sharp horns, were clearly not sprung 
 from a genuine Gothic breed. But it was in the 
 villages, through several of which we drove, that 
 the manners and customs of the far East were 
 most powerfully illustrated. I say nothing of 
 the draw-well, Mith which every cottage is in its 
 little yard supplied. Neither did I lay much 
 stress upon the primitive order of society, 
 which causes the peasant whose wagon you have 
 hired, to transport his own provender, and to 
 trust to the village hotel for nothing more than 
 water for his horses. But when we beheld on 
 either side of us, cottages similar in their forms 
 
 to the Chinese figures which adorn an old- 
 fashioned teaboard; when we marked with 
 what apparent enjoyment the owners of these 
 cottages lay to eat their meals under the shade 
 of certain trees that grew near ; when a speci- 
 men of Eastern weaving was exhibited to us— 
 women working with their canes the yarn into 
 a woof, which was extended along the side of 
 the road, from one large stone to another— and 
 others were met or passed, holding the spmdle 
 under their arms, and spinning the flax as they 
 walked along; then, indeed, there required 
 some battling with fancy, to convince us that 
 we had not overleaped the boundary of Europe 
 unawares, and so passed into some region where 
 the customs recorded in the Book of Genesis 
 Btill prevailed. I am bound to add, that whe- 
 ther the chord of association thus struck were 
 or were not the principal cause of our enjoy- 
 ment, we enjoyed this day's travel exceedingly, 
 and experienced something like regret when, 
 about two in the afternoon, our vehicle stopped 
 before the door of a large and commodious mn, 
 in the market-place of Vinkoveze. 
 
 The tide of events, by carrying us to Vinko- 
 veze, (for such is the correct orthography of the 
 name,) had brought us to the head-quarters of 
 one of the border counties. Here resides the 
 
•I 
 
 320 
 
 VINKOVEZE. 
 
 li 
 
 colonel of the Seventh or Broder regiment, 
 with all his staff of adjutants, judge-advocate, 
 finance officers, and keepers of accounts ; and 
 here, too, as it happens, is the station of one 
 of those general officers of whom I have else- 
 where spoken, as commanding each his brigade 
 on the frontier. It is scarcely necessary to add, 
 that the town is a place of some importance, 
 and that it presents in all its streets, and 
 squares, and alleys, a very considerable display 
 of the pomp and circumstance of war. Beyond 
 this, however, I have nothing to record of it ; 
 for the stroll which we took through its prin- 
 cipal quarters brought little that deserves re- 
 cord under our observation ; aud it was with 
 great chagrin that we found ourselves com- 
 pelled, for lack of horses, to abide there all 
 night. To be sure, there did occur, in the 
 evening, a concert, as it was termed, of which 
 we, as in duty bound, became auditors ; that is 
 to say, an individual,— a Jew,—" discoursed 
 eloquent music," from a number of common 
 reeds, which he arranged upon brackets. But 
 though the performance was honoured with the 
 presence of the chief authorities, and the elite 
 of the town attended it in like manner, to us it 
 was productive of no other result than a some- 
 what unsatisfactory interference with our din- 
 
 JUAN, OUR DRIVER. 
 
 321 
 
 ner. We paid our florin apiece, and went back 
 again to sip our coffee and go to bed. 
 
 Thou-h we found it impossible to procure 
 horses so as to continue our journey on the day 
 of our arrival at Vinkoveze, there was no diffi- 
 culty whatever in making an arrangement for 
 the day following. Honest Juan,-and I re- 
 cord his name because a more civil, and oblig- 
 ing, and intelligent charioteer never occupied 
 the front of a springless wagon,- agreed, on his 
 own terms, to carry us forward ; and promised, 
 on the faith of a German from the Rhine, to be 
 at the inn-door by five next morning. I am 
 sorry to say, however, that Juan did not fulfil 
 his engagement to the letter. It was past six 
 ere he made his appearance, and when he did 
 come, there seemed to be a slight disposition 
 on his part to drive more than his horses 
 according to his own humours. But a brief 
 controversy put all that to rights, and through- 
 out the period of his continuance in our service 
 which extended over two whole days, we had 
 only to express a wish and it was immediately 
 
 attended to. . ^ w 
 
 It is not worth while to describe minutely 
 the progress of this day. In all its leading 
 features the country resembled that through 
 which we had passed,-with this difference, 
 
 p3 
 
•t 
 
 '|i! 
 
 III! 
 
 (I 
 
 322 
 
 ARRIVE AT BROD. 
 
 that toward the afternoon mountains began to 
 show themselTes afar off over the Turkish bor- 
 der, and that there Mere frequent hills and 
 swells visible in the opposite direction. The 
 people, too, in their appearance, in their garb, 
 and in their habits, were essentially the same ; 
 while towns, houses, and churches, and the 
 general arrangement of the hamlets, continued 
 to keep alive the sort of half-delusion under 
 which, during the previous day, we had la- 
 boured. When, therefore, I have stated that 
 all things went well with us ; that our postilion 
 proved to be a fellow of great intelligence; 
 that being, as I have hinted, a German from 
 the Rhine, we were able to maintain with him 
 an animated conversation, and that he possessed 
 and was prompt to communicate a great deal of 
 information, I have said as much in reference 
 to the day's journey as the subject appears to 
 deserve. And the detail cannot be more appro- 
 priately wound up than by recording that about 
 four o'clock we halted for the night in Brod. 
 
 Brod is a fortress on the right bank of the 
 Saave, under the walls of which a town of near 
 two thousand inhabitants has grown ui). The 
 castle is occupied, like other positions of the 
 kind, by a regiment of regular infantry ; and 
 the duty is carried on exactly as it would be 
 
 VIGILANCE OF THE GARRISON. 
 
 323 
 
 .^ere an enemy's force in the field, and a siege 
 lily expected. For, in addition to the ordi- 
 tZ pos'ts from the Gran, battalions, which 
 wateh the course of the river, the garrison 
 lows out its picquets, and has its chains of 
 sentries regularly planted in every di ction 
 beyond the outworks; yet we were not pre 
 vented from crossing the drawbridge, and look- 
 in. into the barrack-square beyond ; neither was 
 an; objection offered to the minute inspection 
 which we made of the defences from the crest 
 of the glacis. The latter, indeed, is, to a por- 
 tion of its extent, very neatly laid out as a pub- 
 lie garden ; and if we did not encounter a crowd 
 of Lngers amid its mazy walks, the circum- 
 stance must be attributed rather to the lack of 
 ta^te among the people, than to the absence of 
 a good feeUng towards them on the part of the 
 
 'ttfevident enough that with all that was 
 to be learned in these frontier counties we 
 ^ere by this time familiar, and the sameness 
 which prevailed, in reference both to animate 
 and inanimate objects, began to grow wean- 
 some We resolved, therefore, to push for- 
 ward by long stages; and having assured 
 Juan of a good drinkgelt, we prevailed upon 
 him to have his horses in readiness for a 
 
324 
 
 PERQUISITES OF THE SENTRIES. 
 
 Illlll 
 
 i|l| 
 
 Start hy the first peep of dawn on the following 
 day. Accordingly, having retired to our beds 
 betimes, we quitted them long before cockcrow, 
 and just as the garrison clocks were striking 
 four, our vehicle moved from the inn-yard. It 
 was Still very faintly light ; that is to say, the 
 gray morning was pushing the night aside 
 somewhat after the manner of a gladiator who 
 has so nearly met his match, that though he be 
 gaining ground, he is himself unconscious of it. 
 The town and fortress seemed both buried in 
 sleep; yet we had not travelled far ere evi- 
 dence was afforded that here military vigilance, 
 at least, is never relaxed. Wrapped up in their 
 great coats, two or three sentries kept watch 
 along the roadside; and by-and-by we came to 
 a barrier, near which a picquet fire was burning, 
 the men on duty being asleep on some straw 
 withm the influence of its warmth. All this 
 though abundantly warlike, spoke rather to my 
 memory than to my imagination ; but the i)ro- 
 ceedings of the sentinel who watched for his 
 comrades did surprise me. He stopped our 
 wagon, demanded from Juan whether he car- 
 ried any corn or hay about with him, and took 
 away what our honest postilion gave, without 
 so much as an acknowledgement. « Oh ! that 
 is the custom here," said Juan, after we had 
 
 NEU GRADISKA. 
 
 325 
 
 passed on ; " these soldiers of the GrUnz regi- 
 ment, as a compensation for watching the road 
 all night, are authorized to appropriate to their 
 own use the forage of such travellers as may 
 come and go before sunrise. But I was too 
 deep for them. I left out only some straw and 
 hay in the bottom of the wagon : all that was 
 worth saving I stuffed over-night into the sack 
 on which you are sitting." Juan chuckled not 
 a little over his own shrewdness, and we were 
 not sufficiently rigid in our morals to reprove 
 
 him for doing so. 
 
 Our first serious halt to-day was at Neu 
 Gradiska,the head-quarters of the Eighth or 
 Gradiskaner regiment, where, at a better inn 
 than we had recently encountered, we proposed 
 to dine. The horses were accordingly unhar- 
 nessed and baited ; while we, taking mine host 
 into our confidence, proceeded to make such 
 arrangements as the state of our own appetites 
 and the condition of the honest man's larder ap- 
 peared to warrant. But these were as yet very 
 little advanced, when a circumstance occurred 
 ■which turned our thoughts immediately into a 
 new channel. From the doorway of a detached 
 room, there looked out upon us an elderly man, 
 dressed in a suit of rusty-brown, with silver-gray 
 hair, and a good-natured countenance, which 
 
■■■ '-■**■' '..-^ . *,..!*■"; i*: ,^.?-, 
 
 m\\ 
 
 326 
 
 INVITED TO DINE 
 
 WITH A NOBLEMAN. 
 
 327 
 
 
 I ;ii 
 
 gave a pri?nd facie assurance, that he who owned 
 it was not in the habit of living on pulse and 
 water. He motioned to us to approach, which 
 we did ; and then began to question us. We 
 told him, of course, both what w^e were, and 
 the nature of the business which brought us 
 there; and he immediately insisted that we 
 should enter his apartment and join him in the 
 occupation which our arrival had interrupted. 
 We did enter, and beheld upon his table a 
 bottle of rum, which the worthy soul was 
 
 drinking, as we should have drunk weak wine; 
 
 for his pipe was lighted, and a glass of the pure 
 spirit stood at hand,— the better half of its 
 contents, by-the-by, having already gone the 
 way of all potables. Fresh glasses were ordered, 
 ay, and better still, a fresh bottle of rum, more 
 potent than the first; nor was it till after 
 repeated assurances on our part, that the hos- 
 pitable toper became convinced that we w ould 
 not taste it. " What ! you Englishmen, and 
 not drink rum ? Why, you know that at home 
 you drink nothing else. Rum-punch is the 
 beverage of your highest nobility." 
 
 " Very likely," answered I ; « but as we 
 don't belong to that class, w^e never do drink 
 rum in its pure state, and rum-punch as seldom 
 as possible. Besides, we have not yet dined ; 
 
 aT>d were we to begin .ith what you offer, we 
 should not be in a condition to dme at all. 
 " I am very glad to hear that you have not 
 dined," replied our new acquaintance; "there 
 is a friend of mine hard by, the Vice-ban Mar- 
 chovicz, who ^Nill never forgive me, if I omit 
 to carry you to his house. He is a man of 
 great opulence, and boundless hospitahty ; and 
 having married a countrywoman of yours, is 
 especially attached to your nation. I must 
 insist upon your accompanying me to his castle. 
 It is not a mile off, and the postmaster will get 
 a carriage ready for us in five minutes." 
 
 It was to no purpose that we endeavoured 
 to evade this requisition also, by stating what 
 was the fact, our anxiety to get forward. The 
 old man would take no refusal ; and the post- 
 master having been a listener to our conver- 
 sation, stole away, and before we knew what 
 we were about, a carriage drove up. Desiring 
 Juan to be harnessed and ready to start when- 
 ever we should return, we accordingly resigned 
 ourselves to our fate, and the old gentleman 
 showing us the way, we stepped in, and the 
 
 postboy drove off. 
 
 Neu Gradiska, a town which may contam 
 perhaps three thousand inhabitants, stands 
 within an English mile of the border-line of the 
 
H-™- .. **-*„*y^**,,„j,^^,,,J,,p«p,^„^^ ■*.■., S^*l, 
 
 Im 
 
 828 
 
 SITUATION AND DEFENCES 
 
 II 
 
 m 
 
 frontier counties, and marches, if I may use 
 tlie expression, with that portion of Hungarian 
 Croatia which lies to the east of the military 
 district of Bellovar. Its situation is extremely 
 picturesque; for the hills on both sides have 
 begun to assume a bolder outline, and far in the 
 distance, mountains are seen, — the extreme 
 roots of those Julian Alps which stretch down 
 into Turkish Croatia and Dalmatia. It was 
 across this border-line that we drove, and the 
 effect of passing that imaginary barrier was 
 to introduce us to a country where the feudal 
 system prevails in its integrity. Moreover, the 
 outward aspect of things entirely corresponded 
 with the arrangements of social life ; and the 
 bearing and aspect of the people whom we en- 
 countered, told a similar tale. We traversed a 
 sort of lane, with rising grounds on both sides 
 of us, and a small stream running parallel with 
 the road. There lay a village on the right, and 
 here a convent, well situated in a valley, on the 
 left; while by-and-by, the residence of the 
 Vice-ban himself offered itself to our view. It 
 was a fine old pile, castellated and surmounted 
 with turrets, having walls of a prodigious thick- 
 ness, and was built round a square court, into 
 which our carriage drove. I learned afterwards 
 that it was of the date of the sixteenth century, 
 
 OF THK baron's CASTLE. 
 
 329 
 
 that it had more than once withstood an 
 Ittack from the Turkish marauders; and that 
 its owner still held himself in readiness xn case 
 of need, to put its defensible quahUes to the 
 test. It was clear, indeed, from the quantx 7 
 of arms which he kept suspended in his hall, 
 that the means of self-protection were always 
 ready; and the number of his retainers ap- 
 
 ^ f tiinf thev were there for 
 
 peared to suggest, that ttiey wei 
 
 other purposes than those of idle show. 
 
 We drove beneath an arched gateway mto 
 the court, and at the principal door were re- 
 ceded by a domestic. Our guide saymg some- 
 Mng to him which I could not catch, walked 
 n and inviting us to follow, ascended the great 
 staircase without ceremony. We were mstru- 
 ments entirely passive in his hand, so on we 
 went; and by-and-by a drawmg-room, well 
 LiJhed. except in the article of carpets, r^ 
 
 ceived us. Even here, however, we were not 
 permitted to halt. The old gentleman bexng 
 Informed that the Vice-ban was dressmg for 
 dinner, insisted upon our bearing him company 
 into the presence; and sure enough, our first 
 acquaintance with the lord of the castle took 
 place, hestanding with his coat off, over a wash- 
 hand-basin, and we looking somewhat aghast at 
 having been thus unceremoniously made free 
 
Vl • i : i 
 
 mm 
 
 iiiiH 
 
 330 
 
 THE VICE-BAN MARCHOVICZ. 
 
 Wi 
 
 m 
 
 of his chamber. But the Vice-ban Marchovicz 
 was a Icind, hospitable, open-hearted man, who 
 seemed perfectly to understand the character of 
 our cicerone; and was nowise vexed by the 
 intrusion of which we had unwittingly been 
 guilty. He begged that we would stay and 
 dine with him, requested us to amuse ourselves 
 in the drawing-room till his toilet should be 
 completed, and joining us there in a few 
 minutes, used his best exertions to convince us 
 that we, though unbidden, were welcome guests. 
 We spent a very pleasant day with this gen- 
 tleman, concerning whom, in the course of 
 conversation we learned, that he had married a 
 Miss Prescott, an English lady, to whom he 
 was greatly attached, but who died many years 
 ago, leaving him the father of only one sou. 
 Tlie young man sat at the foot of the table 
 during dinner, and was now a captain of hus- 
 sars; yet strange to say, neither he nor his 
 father spoke a word of English, which both 
 exceedingly lamented. Our party again con- 
 sisted entirely of gentlemen,— the baron's head 
 bailii? his confessor, Avith four or five others, 
 all, as it seemed, somehow or another, attached 
 to his establishment, and the kindness of one 
 and all to us strangers was excessive. More- 
 over, the Vice-ban having elicited from me an 
 
 THE VICE-BAN MARCHOVICZ. 
 
 331 
 
 admission that I was fond of music, caused b^s 
 Ifessor to sit down to a piano-forte, while we 
 ate our dessert ; and I must do tne monk the 
 ^ t ce to say, that he played with great tase 
 
 and feeling. Finally, pipes were exchanged a 
 In of amity,-a species of barter in which 
 
 I became to a great extent the gainer, and of 
 Ofener and Carlovit.-the best -^--^^ 
 country —the consumption was noi 
 yT Tour mm-drl„king friend, the» «rd,na,y 
 
 J ^^««pffpct On the contrary, It 
 Uquors produced no effect^ ^^^ 
 
 anneared to me that the more ue 
 
 larer his intellects became ; and a very in^g- 
 
 xiant man was he, when, refusing to jom m 
 
 fresh magnum, I broke up the conclave 
 
 The Vice-ban Marchovicz is an admirable 
 
 specimen of the feudal chief of Hungary, who. 
 
 rSy quitting his castle except to pass a^few 
 
 of the winter months in Agram, lives like a 
 
 lis m.. ia wUeh both woWes and bea^J- 
 tocluded. We ™e „.., however, m as*..^«.n 
 to profit by the wish wbicb he expressed, that 
 
332 
 
 EETURN TO NEU GRADISKA. 
 
 RESUME OUB JOURNEY. 
 
 333 
 
 i 
 
 we could stay and assist in a wolf-hunt ; for he 
 himself was on the way to Agram, whither he 
 intended to proceed on the morrow, and to us 
 delay would have been inconvenient. Accord- 
 ingly, we parted at the end of three hours, with 
 expressions of mutual regret ; and accompanied 
 by our old guide, made ready to return to Neu 
 Gradiska. Yet even in the matter of our re- 
 moval, the old-fashioned hospitality of the Mar- 
 choviczes was not to be diverted from its 
 legitimate channel. We found, on descending 
 the stairs, that our own carriage had been sent 
 away, and that one of the baron's, with two 
 magnificent grays, stood ready to receive us; 
 and to sum up all, it was the baron's heir, the 
 captain of hussars, who mounted the box, and 
 became our charioteer. 
 
 All this was very striking, and I must say 
 very agreeable. It brought before us a state 
 of society to which elsewhere in Europe there 
 is probably no parallel, and left upon our minds 
 an impression every way favourable to those 
 among whom such customs prevailed. Yet the 
 denouement was abundantly ridiculous. 
 
 " Who is the old gentleman to whom I am 
 indebted for the very pleasant day which I 
 have spent?" whispered I to our moustached 
 charioteer. 
 
 «0h' he is a decayed gentleman; a sort of 
 hanser-on about the castle, to whom my father 
 Jves the run of his house, and who dmes 
 S us whenever it suits him. He xs a very 
 "old sort of man, but a most determmed 
 
 ^^ sfl'had already concluded, and certainly 
 if a doubt existed in my mind, the mode m 
 Lh we parted would have entire 7 -moved 
 it The young baron having deposited us at 
 the inn-door, I shook hands with him, and went 
 r md to see that Juan and his wagon were 
 Idy but I was not to be permitted to pass 
 
 hu/ A shout from our red-faced fnend 
 recalled me; and there, iu his own sanctum, I 
 beheld wine and rum set out again : and hstened 
 to tl most determined arguments in favour o 
 a recurrence to the bottle. The cap tarn of 
 hussars could not very well escapj; but I fled 
 for my sobriety: and the last which I saw of 
 him and his companion was at the mn-door,-. 
 the latter holding in his hand a bottle of rum 
 Ind imploring me to wait till it should be 
 
 ^"Sf 'scene amused us a good deal, yet we 
 were not sorry to let the curtain fall upon it ; 
 and the remainder of our journey was parsed 
 without the occurrence of any memorable inci- 
 
 r 
 
834 
 
 MINERAL SPRING. 
 
 335 
 
 dent. I recollect nothing, indeed, which 
 deserves to be recorded, except that there was 
 pointed out to us, near the roadside, a mineral 
 w^ell, at which Joseph II. and the Archduke 
 Maximilian had both drunk, very much to the 
 restoration of their enfeebled constitutions. 
 It was enclosed, when we saw it, by a stone 
 wall, and bore over the entrance an inscription, 
 which commemorated alike the virtues of the 
 water, and the gratitude of the princes who had 
 benefited by the use of it. Moreover, we knew 
 that we were traversing fields, hallowed in the 
 eyes of the Hungarians, by the memory of a 
 hundred battles ; from all of which they came 
 not off as conquerors, though in none was their 
 honour tarnished. But I am not going to 
 revert to matters so long passed and forgotten. 
 Rather let me be content to state, that about 
 eight or nine o'clock we reached a village called 
 Novska, and that we were very thankful for 
 such accommodation as the inn afforded, — 
 namely, a small and somewhat filthy room, a 
 tolerable supper, and a couple of beds. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 KOVSKA. — DIFFICULTY OF FURTHER CONVEYANCE. — TURN 
 
 TOWARDS AGRAM. THE INN AT DUGOSZELLA. AGRAM. 
 
 — STATE OF CROATIA AS TO RELIGION AND CIVILIZATION. 
 —CARLSTADT. — COUNT NUGENT's CHATEAU AT BOSI- 
 LIEVO. — JOURNEY PURSUED. — BAD OMENS. — SKRAD. — 
 DALNIZA. — THE HORIZON DARKENS. — INSOLENCE OP 
 THE PEOPLE. 
 
 It had been our great wish to penetrate through 
 the upper part of Dalmatia, and so crossing the 
 mountain called Grosse Kapella, to come down 
 upon Fiume as a stage in our progress by 
 Trieste to Venice. Our friend Juan, however, 
 positively refused to carry us further. " I would 
 not follow that route," said he, " if you were to 
 multiply my hire fourfold. You will find it 
 hard enough to reach Fiume from this side, 
 take what road you may ; but if you escape 
 being robbed and murdered among the moun- 
 tains of the Kapella, then go and thank your 
 patron saint earnestly, the very first shrine or 
 church you enter." It was to no purpose that 
 we strove to deride his fears, and reminded 
 him that we were armed. " Armed !" said he ; 
 " what would your pocket-pistols do against 
 
336 DIFFICULTY OF FURTHER CONVEYANCE. 
 
 the brigands and smugglers that infest these 
 wild districts? Why, you will be shot from 
 behind some rock before you have time either 
 to fight or flee ; and then, of what use will be 
 your arms ?" I must confess that Juan's asse- 
 verations produced v^ry little effect upon me. 
 I did not believe that anpvhere under the 
 Austrian sway, the population was so savage as 
 he described it; and I gave up my project of 
 crossing the Kapella, only because I found that 
 the roads were next to impassable, and that no 
 peasant would consent to encounter them. 
 
 The next thing to be done, was to consider 
 how it behoved us to proceed. Juan, though 
 reluctant to abandon us, was obliged, owing to 
 the unfinished state of his harvest, to return 
 home ; and in and around Novska every horse 
 and wagon was busy. Again we threw our- 
 selves on the kindness of the captain command- 
 ing, and again were our difficulties removed. 
 IJe consented to supply us with a forstban, 
 provided we would follow the good road to 
 Agram; and promise to change our vehicle 
 at the end of the first stage ;— and our position 
 was not of such a nature as to leave us the 
 power of choice. We therefore came into his 
 terms very readily; and about eight o'clock 
 next morning mounted behind a peasant lad, 
 
 HALT AT DXTGOSZELLA. 
 
 337 
 
 and were driven, no wise grieving that of the 
 military frontier we had seen the last, along 
 the great road to Agram. 
 
 From Novska to Agram had been computed 
 to us as including a space of about sixty Eng- 
 lish miles ; and late as the hour of starting was, 
 we hoped to accomplish it that day; but we 
 were mistaken. We travelled now by forstban; 
 and the delays attendant on the calling in of 
 the horses from the harvest-field, proved greater 
 than our calculations had taken into account. 
 At the first stage, to be sure, the village of 
 Kuttlina, the greatest possible attention was 
 shown to us ; for not only were horses sent for 
 on the instant, but the stuhl-riechter s wife, the 
 stuhl-riechter himself being confined to bed, 
 insisted on our staying to dine with her, and 
 treated us most hospitably. In like manner, 
 there is at Vedreniak a regular station, whence 
 fresh horses were supplied with something like 
 the promptitude which marked the progress q£ 
 similar operations along our own coach-roads 
 half a century ago. But there our conveni- 
 ences came to an end. At Dugoszella, just one 
 stage from Agram, we were under the necessity 
 of calling a halt, inasmuch as the innkeeper, 
 with whom the right of ordering forstban rested, 
 assured us, with many protestations, that not 
 
 VOL. III. Q 
 
338 MONASTERY OF KLOST. 
 
 eyen the emperor, if he were travelling the 
 same road, could get fresh horses before the 
 morrow. It is never worth while to lose one s 
 temper in a strange country ; so we shrugged 
 up our shoulders, ordered supper, and disposed 
 ourselves to make the most of things. 
 
 We traversed this day a country which, m 
 all that can delight the painter's eye, was a 
 marked improvement on the scenery of ttie 
 frontier counties. Less fertile the soil doubt- 
 less wa^; but the rise and fall of the land 
 greatly pleased us ; and the vineyards which 
 clothed the sides of these sloping hills spoke of 
 much wealth to come. We passed, likewise, 
 one or two places, especially Klost, the seat of 
 a wealthy monastery, which, both from the 
 local situation and the antique and time-worn 
 aspect of its buildings, interested us much. 
 Moreover, a thunder-storm, with its usual ac- 
 companiment, very heavy showers of rain, had 
 amused us ; so that, on the whole, we were not 
 very much disinclined to make friends with our 
 landlord at Dugoszella, and his apartments. 
 But had the contrary been our humour, it 
 ^vould have been impossible long to retain it, 
 in the face of the inn-keeper's exceeding 
 eagerness to make us happy. He was not a 
 Hungarian, but a Frenchman, who, after Uvmg 
 
 A FRENCH INNKEEPER. 
 
 339 
 
 many years as valet to a Croatian noble, had 
 married the lady's maid, and was by his master 
 established in this inn. Alas ! poor fellow, he 
 was entirely out of his proper element. Cro- 
 atia, according to him, was the most savage 
 country on the face of the earth. Every pea- 
 sant was a brigand, and every gentleman a 
 tyrant ; and really, but that he contrived to 
 make a poor living among them, no considera- 
 tion would hinder him from returning on the 
 morrow to " La bdle France." I had been 
 very much struck with the number of large 
 and fierce dogs, which he kept about his house 
 and premises, and demanded the reason. 
 
 ** Mon Dieu, monsieur,'' was the answer, " if 
 I had not these dogs to protect me, I should lay 
 -mf account every night with having my throat 
 cut before morning." 
 
 Yet with all this alarm for his own personal 
 safety, our host proved to be, like his countrymen 
 in general, the lightest-hearted of mortals. He 
 played the guitar and the fiddle ; he sang, and 
 offered to dance for our amusement. In a word, 
 he made himself so agreeable, and took such 
 pains to have our supper neatly dressed, that 
 we shut our eyes to the palpable stratagem 
 which rendered us his guests for the night 
 Neither dog nor brigand broke in upon our 
 
 Q 2 
 
340 
 
 AGKAM. 
 
 Slumbers, and by seven o'clock next morning 
 
 we were again en route. m ToT, 
 
 The apFoach to Agram from the Turki h 
 frontier is exceedingly fine. The cjty itself, 
 lyin. at the foot of a range of well-wooded 
 hills! looks like the centre of an immense am- 
 phitheatre ; for far away in the distance are the 
 Julian Alps, stretching round, as it appeal^, 
 Wl-nigh in the form of a crescent and gird- 
 ling in the plain, out of which the lulls m 
 question rise abruptly. You see, long before 
 you approach it, that it is a place of some im- 
 portan-; for the cathedral looks down majes- 
 Lally from the height on which it is planted 
 and not far removed from it is the bishop s 
 palace, an edifice of imposing aspect, and more 
 Ln moderate extent. Then, again, there are 
 a new and an old town, of which the former, 
 enread over the level, is in its principal streets 
 i^guishable a good way off, while the latter, 
 climbhig up the ascent, appears to take shelter 
 behind one of the ridges, so that by-and-by a 
 steeple seen here and there, is all that tells 
 hat'a town is near at hand. Neither can the 
 effect be said to be diminished as you approach 
 the suburbs, where lawns, and ^^ady walks, and 
 ornamental plantations abound ; while your 
 progress towards the hotel, after the suburbs 
 
 AGRAM. 
 
 341 
 
 are fairly entered, interests you exceedingly. 
 Everything was novel on which we looked forth. 
 The houses, the people, the shops, the booths, 
 all had about them peculiarities, such as attached 
 them to an order quite distinct from the same 
 objects in Prague, or Vienna, or Pesth. It was 
 a new phase in the great moon of human society ; 
 the effect of which, though it renders all eflforts 
 at description nugatory, is just as fresh in my 
 mind at this moment, as it was when I first 
 
 beheld it. 
 
 We drove to a hotel which had been recom- 
 mended to us, and which, as it bore the impos- 
 ing title of the Kaiser Von Oesterreich, we 
 naturally expected to find the best in the city. 
 I have not one word to say in disparagement of 
 it. Having been newly built, and very recently 
 tenanted, it was, in point of furniture, some- 
 what in its infancy; but the people were civil, 
 the viands good, and the beds as tolerable as 
 intense heat, and the ceaseless activity of my- 
 riads of insects, would permit. It is of the 
 town, however, rather than of the hotel, that I 
 am called upon to speak ; and it would be very 
 unfair were I to deny that it interested us greatly. 
 We were fortunate, too, in finding here, not 
 M. Marchovicz himself, but a gentleman who 
 had married his daughter, and who kindly took 
 
342 
 
 CONSTITUTION OF 
 
 upon himself the task of showing us all that as 
 strangers we desired to see. The cathedral 
 we found to be an extensive and handsome 
 building, with capacious cloisters, and a large 
 establishment of canons. There were, more- 
 over, several monasteries in the place, and a 
 gymnasium or college, the management of 
 which is entirely in the hands of the clergy ; 
 indeed, the clergy are here, as they are through- 
 out Croatia in general, personages of much 
 greater importance than any where else, except 
 in Italy. Then, again, we took a survey of the 
 head-quarters of the civil government; the 
 apartment where the ban, or council of magis- 
 trates, hold their sittings ; and last of all, wan* 
 dered through the very beautiful gardens which 
 surround the episcopal palace. I have else- 
 where stated that the see of Agram is one of 
 the richest in Hungary, and that its emolu- 
 ments are represented as falling little short of 
 fifteen thousand pounds a year ; and I have now 
 to add that the house, and all about it, are in 
 perfect keeping with this princely revenue. 
 
 There are certain peculiarities in the con- 
 stitution of society in Croatia, of which it may 
 not be out of place if I here make mention. 
 First, then, though in all that appertains to the 
 right of sending representatives to parliament, 
 
 CROATIA. 
 
 343 
 
 Croatia be an integral portion of the Hungarian 
 monarchy, it still retains many rights and pri- 
 vileges which, as they are peculiar to itself, so 
 not even by the decision of parliament could 
 they, without creating a prodigious ferment, be 
 set a^ide. Religious toleration, for example, 
 which elsewhere in Hungary is unlimited, exists 
 not at all within the Umits of Croatia. Neither 
 Lutheran nor Calvinist is permitted to make a 
 confession of his belief, and the attempt to open 
 a Protestant place of worship would subject 
 him who made it to condign punishment. Of 
 course, such a state of things cannot exist, ex- 
 cept co-ordinately with universal ignorance and 
 superstition; and universal ignorance and su- 
 perstition are accordingly the leading features 
 in the Croatian character. Again, the arm of 
 the reformer, which in Hungary swept away so 
 many convents, and applied their wealth to 
 other purposes, has here accomplished nothing. 
 Religious houses for both sexes abound in Croa- 
 tia. In like manner, the ban, or executive 
 magistracy of Croatia, stands as completely 
 separate from the control of the palatine of 
 Hungary, as if between the two countries the 
 breadth of the Atlantic were spread, and com- 
 munications from the one to the other were both 
 rare and difficult. Nay, more ; I was not slow 
 
 W 
 
 I 
 
 m 
 
344 
 
 POINTS OF DIFFERENCE BETWEEN 
 
 to detect that the Croats are divided from the 
 Hungarians by a more impassable barrier than 
 even the interposition of an ocean could have 
 erected, inasmuch as they look upon their 
 neighbours with an eye of jealousy, which 
 partakes somewhat of the bitterness of ha- 
 tred. The arrangement which has of late 
 been entered into, touching the use of the 
 Magyar tongue in the transaction of public 
 business, especially displeases them. " What 
 know we about the Hungarian dialect?" was 
 the substance of their complaint. " It is the 
 language of a small minority in the kingdom, 
 and to us, who are not Hungarians, it is, to all 
 intents and purposes, a foreign speech. If they 
 were determined to set aside the Latin, which 
 throughout so many ages has served every pur- 
 pose, surely the rational plan would have been 
 to adopt the Slavonian, with which all, except 
 the inhabitants of the district round Pesth, are 
 familiar." 
 
 It was no business of mine to take a side in 
 this controversy, which agitated the Croatians, 
 as I found from their murmurs, very seriously; 
 yet I could not help feeling that there was, at 
 least, a show of reason in their argument ; 
 though it is contrary to the established order 
 of things that the vanquished should give their 
 language to the conquerors. 
 
 THE CROATS AND THE HUNGARIANS. 345 
 
 These, then, are the points of difference be- 
 tween the Croats and the Hungarians ; in other 
 respects I do not find that one people has 
 much to boast of when compared with the 
 other. In both divisions of the country, vas- 
 salage and lordship exist in their full vigour, 
 and in both the yoke has long been borne by 
 the peasant uneasily. But the Hungarians, 
 whatever they might feel, have not, on any 
 occasion, striven, as the Croat peasantry did, 
 to right themselves. But a few years have 
 passed since there was such a ferment in this 
 region as could be arrested only by the pre- 
 sence of a large military force ; and even now 
 it is evident that the gentry look upon their 
 serfs much more in the light of slaves, whom 
 they must hold down by violence, than as re- 
 tainers attached to them by the bond of mutual 
 goodwill and an alternation of dependance and 
 protection. 
 
 We spent two days in A gram very agree- 
 ably: for there is a charm in novelty, even 
 when you encounter it in cities ; but we found 
 no inducement to prolong our stay further ; and 
 made preparations to pass onwards. On con- 
 sulting our friend as to the best means of 
 reaching Trieste, he advised us rather to travel 
 by Carlstadt to Fiume than to go round by 
 
 Q 3 
 
 
 I 
 
us 
 
 JASZKA. 
 
 Laybach ; and in order that we might not 
 be detained by the way for lack of horses, he 
 undertook to procure from the proper authori- 
 ties a march-route, or authority for the forstban. 
 No obstacles seem to have been thrown in the 
 way of this arrangement, for the march-route 
 was freely given ; and in obedience to the or- 
 ders of those in power, a wagon, drawn by four 
 horses, drove next morning into the inn-yard. 
 We took our places, as usual, on a sack well 
 stuffed with straw, and away we went. 
 
 The rate at which these small horses .drag 
 the small wagons along a good road, is really 
 surprising. I do not think that we compassed 
 less than seven or eight miles in the hour ; yet 
 ms there are no springs to your vehicle the 
 fatigue is great, and you would gladly compound 
 for a more tardy pace were you sure that the 
 jolting would be tardy also. On, however, we 
 flew, setting ruts and stones at defiance, till at 
 Jaszka, two stages beyond Agram, our postilions 
 made us aware that their task was accomplished. 
 It was here that we first began to be taught 
 that between the national characters of the 
 Croats and the Hungarians there is a marked 
 difference. I do not mean to accuse the stadt- 
 riechter in Jaszka of any manifest neglect of 
 his duty, but nothing was done with alacrity ; 
 
 CARLSTADT* 
 
 347 
 
 and when, after two hours' delay, the horses did 
 arrive, the bearing of those who accepted our 
 money for their hire was the reverse of agree- 
 able. 
 
 We travelled on through a country which, 
 in point of natural scenery, became more and 
 more attractive at every stage. The roots of 
 the Julian Alps began to gather round us, not 
 in mountains, for as yet they were far removed, 
 but in broken ground, in numerous swells and 
 falls ; and, above all, in frequent crags, which, 
 rising abruptly out of the plain, gave an air of 
 singular wildness to the district which produced 
 them. Thus it was till we reached Carlstadt, 
 a town of some importance, surrounded by 
 works that seem to be capable of, at least, a 
 temporary defence, and surmounted by a bold 
 hill, the summit of which is crowned with an old 
 baronial castle. In that mansion, which is now 
 the property of Count Nugent, Marshal Mar- 
 mont, governor under Napoleon of these pro- 
 vinces, used to reside. We did not go to see it ; 
 for besides that we were straitened for time, its 
 exterior held out few enticements to penetrate 
 farther ; yet we looked at it as we passed with 
 a good deal of interest, which was not dimi- 
 nished by the recollection of the opinions which 
 had been expressed to us in reference to the 
 
 I 
 
 ^ 'I 
 I 
 
 t '>y 
 
348 
 
 KULE OF THE FRENCH. 
 
 effect of French domination in these quarters 
 To our extreme surprise, we found that the 
 people, so far from complaining of it, were 
 loud and unqualified in the expressions of their 
 regret that it had ever passed away. " The 
 French," such was the language which greeted 
 us everywhere, " were the best and most 
 honourable rulers whom we ever obeyed. No 
 human being was wronged by them. They 
 preserved order just as rigidly as it is preserved 
 now; yet we did not suffer half so much, either 
 in our feelings or our liberties ; and we obeyed 
 them all the better." I do not know how far 
 this account of French domination is to be 
 relied upon; but it is only fair to add, that 
 except in Prussia, and even there the tone was 
 not always the same, I never heard any of the 
 middling or lower orders, either in Germany, 
 or Hungary, or Italy, speak of these tyrants of 
 Continental Europe, otherwise than as just in 
 all their dealings, and the reverse of offensive 
 in their deportment towards those whom they 
 
 had subdued. 
 
 At Carlstadt we changed, for the second 
 time, our wagon and horses ; and here the dis- 
 position to behave rudely, of which we had 
 reason to complain at the previous stage, 
 showed itself more decidedly than ever. There 
 
 INCIVILITY OF THE CARLSTADT PANDOUR. 349 
 
 is a functionary at each of these stations, called, 
 in the language of the country, the pandour, a 
 sort of police-officer, who dresses in a hussar 
 uniform, and wears, when arrayed in accord- 
 ance with the full dignity of his station, a 
 huge steel-scabbarded sabre at his side. It is 
 the business of this personage to see that the 
 directions given in the travellers' march-route 
 are obeyed; and, if he do his duty as be- 
 comes him, travellers are accustomed to re- 
 ward him by some trifling present, additional 
 to the hire of the horses. At Carlstadt the 
 pandour not only failed to exert himself in our 
 favour, but, in reply to our request that he 
 would provide the horses specified in our order, 
 coolly told us that there were no horses to be 
 had that day, and that he would not trouble 
 himself to look after them before to-morrow 
 morning. We were vexed at this, as was 
 natural, because our intention was to spend 
 the night at Count Nugent's chateau, the 
 castle of Bosilievo, which lay two long stages, 
 or between twenty and five-and-twenty miles, 
 beyond Carlstadt ; and we expressed ourselves, 
 finding that smooth words were useless, some- 
 what warmly on the occasion. But remon- 
 strance proved, for a while, as unavailing as 
 argument, and we were left to digest our own 
 
 rj 
 
 
350 
 
 WILD SCENERY 
 
 chagrin as we best might in the yard. At last, 
 however, after much delay, a couple of horses 
 were produced, which had been standing, as it 
 turned out, all the while harnessed and ready 
 in the stable of the station-house to which we 
 had been driven. I acknowledge that I was 
 guilty of the extreme weakness, not only of 
 feeling indignant at this wanton disregard of 
 the law's authority, but of making my indigna- 
 tion manifest. When the pandour approached 
 to claim his customary drinkgelt, I refused to 
 give it ; and throwing the amount to a peasant, 
 who had conversed with me during the interval 
 thus wantonly wasted, I desired our postilion 
 to drive on, and left the man in oflSce exceed- 
 ingly irritated at the proceeding. 
 
 Notwithstanding our unnecessary detention 
 at Carlstadt, we did succeed in reaching Bosi- 
 lievo that night, after an exceedingly beautiful 
 drive through an exceedingly beautiful country. 
 For we were now fairly among the valleys of 
 the lower Alps ; and the mountains on every 
 side, though still comparatively low, were be- 
 ginning to assume a bold and majestic outline. 
 There was an air, likewise, of desolation and 
 extreme wildness spread over everything, 
 which somewhat solemnised us. The signs of 
 cultivation became, as we advanced, more and 
 
 ! 
 
 OF THE LOWER ALPS. 
 
 351 
 
 more rare ; while the dark forest began again 
 to assert its supremacy over every ravine and 
 hollow. By-and-by, our postilion, quitting the 
 main road, struck into a path to the left, 
 which led us on, and on, towards a scene 
 highly characteristic of the condition, both of 
 the country and its inhabitants. We traversed 
 a large moor, over which, at intervals, patches 
 of birch and alder trees were scattered, with 
 here and there a little cluster of dwarf-oaks. 
 But, if the moor was bleak, the frame-work to 
 the picture, of which it formed the centre- 
 piece, was exceedingly fine. On every side 
 the mountains appeared to gather around us ; 
 and the admiration with which we watched the 
 sun go down behind one of the boldest ranges, 
 I have not now forgotten, nor am likely ever 
 
 to forget. 
 
 Through this desolate heath we swept along, 
 till the wood becoming thicker, and the traces 
 af human industry more manifest in the ar- 
 rangement of its coppices, we came to the 
 conclusion that Count Nugent's chateau could 
 not be far distant. I need hardly remind the 
 reader of that gallant soldier's career, or of the 
 principal events which mark his personal history. 
 An Irishman by birth, of a good old Roman 
 Catholic family, he quitted home at that period 
 
 n 
 
 1 .11 
 
 
 M 
 
352 
 
 COUNT NUGENT. 
 
 in our history when Irish Roman Catholic 
 gentlemen found no opening for their exertions 
 in the public service of their own country. 
 He entered the Austrian army; and by his 
 talents and zeal, has risen to the rank of 
 general, besides winning for himself, at the 
 emperor's hands, a patent of nobility. Count 
 Nugent particularly distinguished himself dur- 
 ing the great struggle which ended in the 
 abdication of Napoleon in 1814. Of his own 
 accord, he collected a handful of followers 
 about the shores of the Adriatic, and, after 
 much sharp fighting, drove the French out of 
 Istria and Dalmatia. He was treated, in con- 
 sequence, with much distinction at the court 
 of Vienna, and, besides his regiment, enjoys 
 the dignity and emoluments of commandant of 
 the troops in Trieste. 
 
 Fortune has smiled upon our countryman, 
 and he is now the proprietor of a considerable 
 tract of country round Bosilievo. The old cas- 
 tle of Carlstadt likewise belongs to him ; and 
 he owns, in addition to these, a curious ruin 
 which crowns one of the bold rocks that over- 
 hang Fiume. We had been gratified by 
 meeting him at the English ambassador's table, 
 during our brief stay in Vienna ; and having 
 promised on that occasion to visit him, should 
 
 CHATEAU OF BOSILIEVO. 
 
 353 
 
 circumstances lead us into his neighbourhood, 
 we were now on our way to redeem the pledge. 
 It was a great mortification to be told on ar- 
 riving at the chateau, that the gallant owner 
 was from home. Yet of the hospitalities of 
 Bosilievo I have nothing to say, except in com- 
 mendation. The countess, with her fine boys, 
 received us very kindly, and we spent the night 
 there much to our own satisfaction. 
 
 The situation of Bosilievo is at once romantic 
 and beautiful. The castle, for the house, though 
 lately repaired, has with great judgment been 
 built in the castellated form, stands upon the 
 summit of a gentle declivity, and from its win- 
 dows, as well as from the lawn and garden near, 
 commands one of the most magnificent high- 
 land views which it is easy to imagine. More- 
 over, the effect of your gaze over that wild and 
 broken district is not a little heightened by the 
 consciousness, that the towers, and strong gate- 
 way, and, on one side at least, the ditch which 
 protects the mansion, are not planted where 
 they are for mere purposes of show. I could 
 discover from the conversation of more than 
 one member of the family, that they did not 
 consider themselves quite so safe as they would 
 be within the garrison at Trieste ; and that the 
 watch-dogs which abounded about the pre- 
 
 
354 
 
 CHATEAU OF BOSILIEVO. 
 
 mises were expected to give notice, should 
 others, besides a marauding party from the 
 Turkish side, approach the castle. Yet, as far 
 as my own experience goes, I am bound to 
 state, that a more peaceftil or better regulated 
 household I never entered. We met at sup- 
 per, besides the countess, her sons, and their 
 tutor,— a nephew of the Count's, an officer in 
 his own regiment, and attached confidentially to 
 himself as his aide-de-camp,— with two more 
 guests than ourselves, a general of engineers 
 and his aide-de-camp, who were prosecuting a 
 tour of inspection through the different for- 
 tresses of the empire. The party was a very 
 pleasant one ; and the light slumbers that fol- 
 lowed its breaking up suffered no interruption, 
 till a servant came in to tell us next morning, 
 that breakfast was laid for us in the dining- 
 room. 
 
 We had taken leave of the countess over- 
 night; and Mr. Nugent, at our desire, had 
 given orders that a forstban should be at the 
 castle-gate by seven o'clock, at the latest. This 
 was the more necessary, that a long day's jour- 
 ney was before us, and that the latter portion 
 of it was described, as lying through a district 
 which it would be prudent to traverse, if pos- 
 sible, before nightfall. Now, I must confess, 
 
 DETENTION. 
 
 355 
 
 that, though as little inclined to credit these 
 tales of terror as most men, I had seen much in 
 the bearing of the peasantry throughout the 
 whole of our yesterday's progress, which had no 
 tendency to impress me with a very favourable 
 idea of their gentleness. I was not, therefore, 
 over and above delighted when not only seven 
 o'clock came without bringing our vehicle, but 
 eight o'clock found us still lingering in the 
 dining-room of Bosilievo. Accordingly, Mr. 
 Nugent suggested that, since we were deter- 
 mined to go, the best plan would be, to make 
 use of one of his uncle's carriages, and to pick 
 up the horses, at the station-house, where a 
 negligent commissary had doubtless detained 
 them. We gladly acceded to this proposal; 
 and a carriage being ordered out, we returned 
 in it to the point, whence, on the previous 
 afteriloon,^ we struck off into Count Nugent's 
 
 grounds. 
 
 I have entered into these particulars, unim- 
 portant as in themselves they unquestionably 
 are, because my recollection of that day is of 
 one, throughout which, from its commencement 
 to its close, everything appeared to run counter 
 to our wishes. When we reached the station- 
 house, for example, we found that the forstban 
 had started, not a quarter of an hour previously, 
 
356 
 
 DETENTION. 
 
 : S 
 
 for the castle. Here then was an accumula- 
 tion of contretemps. It was useless to think of 
 demanding another, for no other horses were to 
 be had ; and, had the contrary been the case, the 
 commissary was not bound to furnish them. 
 And as to sending in pursuit of the missing 
 vehicle, that was out of the question. No per- 
 son on foot could hope to overtake it, even if 
 its trail were discoverable ; and seeing that it 
 had passed us, somehow, without either party 
 observing the other, the chances of falling upon 
 its trail were very meagre. There remained 
 nothing for it then, but to sit down on a bench 
 beside the inn-door, and wait with what resig- 
 nation we might succeed in calling up, the 
 voluntary return of the truant forstban. And, 
 as if to tantalize us the more, we had the satis- 
 faction of hearing from our landlord, that but 
 a short time previous to our arrival, an empty 
 carriage, just the sort of thing which would 
 have suited us, had stopped to bait, on its way 
 from Agram to Fiume. What could we do ? 
 « How unlucky we are!" was all the complaint 
 which we uttered, and there the thing ended. 
 
 At last, about half-past nine o'clock, Count 
 Nugent's people having long quitted us, the 
 wagon arrived. The horses, having been sharply 
 driven to repair the owner's fault, were in a 
 
 i i 
 
 1 ', 
 
 DETENTION AT SKRAD. 
 
 357 
 
 foam of sweat, and the driver in a less satis- 
 factory humour than ourselves; yet we got 
 through that stage with perfect comfort, and 
 enjoyed it much. For the scenery was precisely 
 such as the lover of the picturesque delights 
 to behold ; and each step which we took in ad- 
 vance seemed to add to its magnificence. At 
 a place called Szello we stopped; and the 
 peasant protesting that his cattle could go no 
 farther, we were forced, after a stage of nearly 
 seven English miles, to demand a new forstban. 
 There was delay, of course,— there is always an 
 apparent reluctance to obey this somewhat 
 arbitrary law,— yet we could not complain of 
 it as excessive; and when the horses did 
 come, they were, by virtue of a promised re- 
 ward to the postboy, well driven. We thus 
 contrived to reach Skrad, our next stage, a 
 little after noon, and applied for a relay. But 
 here our real difficulties began. The person to 
 whom belonged the duty of supplying horses to 
 such as travelled by forstban, happened like- 
 wise to be the keeper of the inn ; and, either 
 because he desired to detain us all night, or 
 that some fit of ill-humour was upon him, he 
 paid no other attention to our wishes than by 
 stating, that the horses were sent for. We 
 shrugged up our shoulders, withdrew into his 
 
 ' II 
 
 
 H 
 
358 ALTERCATION WITH OUR HOST. 
 
 hotel ; and, in order to occupy the interval, 
 ordered dinner, in the full assurance that by 
 the time this meal should be finished our ve- 
 hicle would be horsed, and otherwise arranged 
 to carry us forward. 
 
 We sat with all imaginable patience about 
 an hour and a half, and yet no horses made 
 their appearance. I went out, in consequence, 
 to remonstrate; upon which the fiery host 
 assumed a tone which had insensibly a bad 
 effect upon mine, and a somewhat warm alter- 
 cation was the consequence. For it came out 
 in this instance, as it had done in Carlstadt, 
 that there were horses in the stable all the 
 while, though even now the reichter protested 
 that he could spare us only one of them. As 
 the single horse was a good one, however, we 
 did not consider that it would be prudent to 
 teject him; so he was harnessed very awk- 
 wardly to one side of the pole, and away we 
 went. But our journey was not a pleasant one. 
 The driver, as was perhaps natural, had espoused, 
 in the controversy between the riechter and 
 myself, the cause of his countryman. He 
 continued very sulky all the way; indeed I have 
 good reason to believe that he misrepresented 
 us entirely to the people at the next stage : 
 though of that, at the moment, T knew no- 
 
 ARRIVAL AT DALNIZA. 
 
 359 
 
 thing. Yet I was not slow in discovering, after 
 our arrival at Dalniza, that its inhabitants 
 looked upon us with an unfriendly eye, and the 
 marks of hostility which they exhibited became 
 continually more striking. I carried my march- 
 route to the proper quarter, put it into the 
 hands of the riechter, and saw him give it to 
 the pandour, or police-officer, with orders to 
 provide the necessary means of travel; but 
 hour after hour stole on, and not only was no 
 carriage prepared, but pandour, riechter, and 
 everybody else to whom an appeal could be 
 made, seemed to have disappeared. Meanwhile, 
 groups of men met together in the street, and 
 conversed together in whispers. In a word, 
 our situation was as little comfortable as it 
 could well be ; and what was worse, we were 
 altogether at a loss, how to act in order to 
 
 render it less so. ^ 
 
 "We reached Dalniza about three o'clock in 
 the afternoon; at half-past five, I went forth 
 from the inn to inquire, for the sixth or seventh 
 time, whether any wagon was ready. This 
 time I found that to a machine, even ruder 
 than any which had at previous stages been 
 furnished, a couple of horses were harnessed ; 
 and that the people were preparing it for our 
 reception, by filling up the interior with a load 
 
360 
 
 NEGLECT OF THE AUTHORITIES. 
 
 of deals. I remonstrated against an arrange- 
 ment, which must of necessity render the horses 
 incapable of travelling beyond a foot's^ pace ; 
 and I succeeded in hindering more than a 
 couple of layers from being forced upon us, but 
 these they would on no account remove. And 
 then followed a scene, which gave a tolerable 
 prognostic of others which in due time followed. 
 The delay in providing horses was clearly charge- 
 able either upon the riechter or the pandour, 
 or both ; to screen themselves, these worthies 
 charged the boy who was to drive us, with being 
 out of the way. While Iwas standing by, they 
 accordingly seized the lad by the throat, and 
 either did beat or pretend to beat him unmer- 
 cifully. I did not like to see the boy mal- 
 treated for no just cause, so I extricated him 
 from their grasp ; and immediately their fury was 
 turned upon me. No blow, however, was struck, 
 for I bore their abusive language patiently, 
 and only smiled when the pandour, by all man- 
 ner of gesticulations, endeavoured to impress, 
 upon my mind, and that of the mob, that he 
 was quite able and willing to tear me to pieces. 
 It was quite evident that there had arisen 
 among us a misunderstanding, which, as I did 
 not comprehend one word of their language, 
 nor they one word of mine, was not likely by 
 
 LEAVE DALNIZA. 
 
 361 
 
 any effort which I could make to be set to 
 rights.- My business, accordingly, was to escape 
 from the village with as little delay as possible, 
 and to make the best of my w^ay to Fiume. 
 Without, therefore, uttering any complaint 
 because of the wretched preparations which 
 they had made for us, or seeking to procure 
 even a truss of straw on which to sit, my young 
 companion and I threw our knapsacks into the 
 wagon, and desired the boy to drive on. But 
 this we were not permitted to do, for, contrary 
 to all our previous experience, the pandour 
 insisted that we should pay for the horses in 
 the first instance ; and give to him, over and 
 above the regular hire, such amount of drink- 
 gelt as he chose to demand. We complied 
 with both requisitions unhesitatingly ; and then 
 receiving back our march-route, the vehicle 
 began to move, and we to congratulate one 
 another on the prospect which was before us, 
 of a happy deliverance out of trouble. 
 
 Not yet, however, were we allowed to pass 
 freely from the village. A rustic, having con- 
 versed for a minute or two with the throng 
 which followed us, suddenly jumped up into 
 our w^agon, and seating himself beside the 
 driver, was cheered by the lookers-on. I could 
 not tell what the man's object was, so I ordered 
 
 VOL. III. R 
 
 P! 
 
 
 \ 
 
362 
 
 LEAVE DALNIZA, 
 
 him to dismount again; and he obeyed me 
 sullenly. And now, having requested the 
 driver of the last stage, who understood Ger- 
 man, and with whom I could hold converse, to 
 tell the boy that the amount of his reward 
 would depend upon his own active coachman- 
 ship, we set forward in good earnest. In five 
 minutes Dalniza was behind us, and all appre- 
 hensions of immediate violence were laid aside. 
 
 363 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 LEAVE DALNIZA. WILD SCENERY. — THE CARRIAGE STOPPED. 
 
 AFFRAY WITH THE PEASANTRY. WOUNDED AND 
 
 OVERPOWERED. — CARRIED INTO A COTTAGE. — A NIGHT 
 
 AMONG THE CROATS. TAKEN BACK TO DALNIZA. PUT 
 
 IN IRONS. BEHAVIOUR OF A CROATIAN MAGISTRATE. 
 
 — ARRIVAL OF MR. HILL, THE ENGLISH VICE-CONSUL, 
 
 FROM FIUME. — RELEASED. FIUME. — THE KINDNESS OF 
 
 MR. AND MRS. SMITH. 
 
 The sun was getting far into the west when we 
 cleared this inhospitable station ; and the Julian 
 Alps rising like a wall in our front, gave us the 
 comfortable assurance of passing through the 
 heart of a district, strange to us, and not of the 
 best repute, in the dark. I confess, however, 
 that I was a great deal too thankful for the 
 escape, which we had just made, to give to this 
 consideration any very anxious thought. If 
 brigands should attack uy, we must make the 
 most of our situation. Resistance to a nume- 
 rous body, better armed than we, I was not 
 fool-hardy enough to contemplate ; but provided 
 the odds were not overwhelming, I fancied that 
 my fellow-traveller and I could at least give, as 
 well as take, a hard knock or two in moderation. 
 
 K 2 
 
 n 
 
 V ff| 
 
OUR CARRIAGE STOPPED. 
 
 365 
 
 364 
 
 REACH THE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 And it would be uncandid to deny, that the 
 excitement consequent upon the past dispute, 
 had a tendency both to sharpen my vigilance, 
 and brace up my resolution ; for there was not 
 one of the peasants from whom I had just 
 parted, who might not, on the score of external 
 appearance at least, have passed current any- 
 where for a robber. Moreover, I knew that along 
 the whole of this strip of mountain, the peasants 
 are smugglers by profession, and that when they 
 have any caravan more than usually valuable to 
 transport, from the sea-coast into the interior, 
 they move in such bodies, and so well-armed, 
 that the jagers and revenue-officers do not care 
 to encounter them. Now, smugglers and rob- 
 bers are, in many of their habits, so much akin, 
 that to suspect the man who is addicted to 
 the former of these practices, of being nowise 
 averse to the latter, is scarcely to offer any 
 serious hurt to the cause of Christian charity. 
 Accordingly, being somewhat annoyed by the 
 insults to which we had been subjected, and 
 not looking with an eye either of friendship or 
 of confidence, on the persons who had been 
 actors in the play, I was scarcely in a humour 
 to put the best construction on any future 
 attempt at interruption, and no great while was 
 destined to elapse, ere a serious interruption 
 was offered. 
 
 We had compassed a space of perhaps six 
 English miles, and were arrived at the foot of 
 a very steep mountain, across which, for nearly 
 five leagues, the road continues to wind, when 
 we heard a man shouting in our rear, and saw 
 a peasant, whom we had not long passed, run- 
 ning after us. I did not feel that I was called 
 upon to stop ; but as we were already on the 
 steep ascent, I permitted the boy to drive 
 slowly, by which means our pursuer soon over- 
 took us, and immediately seized one of the 
 horses by the head. I endeavoured, as well as 
 I could by signs, to remonstrate with him, and 
 motioned to him to go away; but he paid no 
 attention to me. On the contrary, he held the 
 reins so tight, that the animals could not move ; 
 and began to gesticulate very fiercely. Let it 
 be borne in mind, that we were at this moment 
 in a very wild and lonely part of the road. 
 Dalniza, besides that it was six miles distant, 
 an arm of the mountain had entirely shut out. 
 We could see only a hut or two, somewhat 
 more on the ascent; and off the line of the 
 road, there was on one side a bold hill, — on the 
 other a deep and uninhabited ravine with a river 
 brawling through it. It must not, therefore, 
 excite surprise when I say, that the conduct of 
 this man perplexed and puzzled me sorely; for 
 
 |i 
 
366 
 
 CONTEST WITH A PEASANT. 
 
 Ill 
 
 he was clearly not justified in stopping us under 
 any circumstances, and I could not tell, — being 
 ignorant of the lUyrian dialect, — whether his 
 object might not be plunder. Accordingly, I 
 dismounted from the wagon, and finding that 
 he would not be prevailed upon to let go his 
 hold upon the reins, I took him by the collar 
 of his jacket, and threw him aside. This done, 
 I desired the boy to go forward ; but scarcely 
 had I resumed my place in the wagon, when 
 the peasant, gathering himself up, sprang at the 
 horses' heads again, and began to undo the 
 harness. I confess that I was both irritated 
 and astonished ; so seizing the stick of our 
 landing-net, I jumped out again ; and as he not 
 only would not desist, but exhibited symptoms 
 of appealing to the knife, I struck him a sharp 
 blow over the shoulder, and again cast him from 
 me. This was quite enough. He seized a 
 large stone, and was about to hurl it at my 
 head, when recollecting that my pistols were in 
 my pocket, I drew one forth, and presented it. 
 There was no need to fire. The peasant dropped 
 his stone, uttered a loud shriek, and ran with 
 the speed of a chamois towards the huts on the 
 rise of the hill. Nor were we long permitted 
 to doubt as to the consequences which would 
 follow. 
 
 FKESH ASSAILANTS. 
 
 367 
 
 I had again taken my place in the wagon, 
 and the boy was moving on slowly, as before, 
 when forth, from hut after hut, we saw bands 
 of people rushing. Stout, active, ferocious- 
 looking fellows, they were, too, — ^with swarthy 
 complexions, moustached lips, and dressed in the 
 exceedingly picturesque attire of the country; 
 but this was no time for studying the pictu- 
 resque in costumes. Our attention was turned 
 exclusively to a consideration of their designs ; 
 and these we soon ascertained to be hostile 
 enough. To the number of perhaps a dozen 
 or more, they began to assail us with huge 
 stones, shouting and vociferating all the while 
 in the most savage manner. All this was both 
 vexatious and alarming, yet what could we do? 
 To stop, would have been to let the danger 
 overtake us ; by turning back, we should have 
 placed ourselves once more at the mercy of the 
 mob in Dalniza, and to push on was attended by 
 its difficulties also. Yet we preferred the latter 
 course; so encouraging our little charioteer, 
 and standing up in the wagon, as if prepared to 
 give battle, we broke through them. They 
 spread to the right and left, and we passed on. 
 But our triumph, if such it may be called, was 
 of short continuance. More huts were visible, 
 and each, as we reached it, added one or two 
 
 I 
 
! ! 
 
 368 
 
 AFFRAY WITH 
 
 to the number of our enemies. At last, finding 
 that we could not press our horses beyond a 
 walk, and following one of their body more 
 courageous than the rest, they set up a shout, 
 and dashed towards us. A stone struck me 
 yiolently on the head; others fell into the 
 wagon, and they w^ho threw them were close at 
 hand. I looked about, and observing a large 
 house, (a post-house it afterwards proved to be,) 
 a little way a-head of us, I, in a rash moment, 
 made up my mind to fire. My object was 
 not to kill, or even to wound any body, but to 
 alarm the inmates of that house, and if possible, 
 to check the peasants by the apprehension that 
 the shot would be repeated. In all this I acted 
 very injudiciously. Nobody, circumstanced as 
 we then were, ought to use fire-arms except in 
 the last emergency, and then, if used at all, 
 they had better be used with eiFect. But these 
 considerations did not, at the moment, have 
 upon me the weight that belonged to them, and 
 I discharged one of my barrels. For the in- 
 stant, the effect was unquestionably good. The 
 peasants ran back a good way, and though 
 nobody came to us from the post-house, we 
 ventured to hope that even yet we might escape. 
 Our little postilion at the report of my pis- 
 tol leaped to the ground, and it was with some 
 
 THE PEASANTRY. 
 
 369 
 
 
 difficulty that I prevailed upon him to resume 
 his station. He did, however, take the reins in 
 hand, while my son, whose perfect self-posses- 
 sion would have done honour to a man of 
 thirty, said, in a cheerful tone, " We are in for 
 it now, papia ! — ^give me one of the pistols !" I 
 gave him, without hesitation that of which both 
 barrels were still charged, and while the lad 
 drove on, made all the haste I could to reload 
 the other. But I had succeeded only in ram- 
 ming home the powder, when my son exclaimed, 
 "See, papa! there is a fellow cutting across 
 above the road,— shall I shoot him ?" I looked 
 up, and saw on the high bank immediately above 
 us the same man who had acted as leader to the 
 rest, but who, instead of halting, as we antici- 
 pated, and hurling a great stone upon our heads, 
 passed rapidly to the front. The lapse of a few 
 minutes sufficed to make us aware of his object 
 in this movement. We passed the post-house, 
 
 took again a second steep ascent, and lo, 
 
 about half-way between the base and the sum- 
 mit of the hill, a new body of assailants pre- 
 sented themselves. A number of men, armed 
 with sticks, and one with a musket, stood across 
 the road ; and the musket, to our extreme sa- 
 tisfaction, was instantly levelled. 
 
 It is useless to inquire after an affray of this 
 
 R 3 
 
 I f i 
 
370 
 
 AFFRAY WITH 
 
 kind is over, how it would have been most judi- 
 cious to act. I believe now that our wisest 
 course would have been to surrender at discre- 
 tion ; but no opportunity of doing so was 
 afforded ; for one man, so far advanced in life 
 that his hair and beard were grizzled, made signs 
 as if he desired to parley with us, and we per- 
 mitted him to approach to the side of the 
 wagon. My pistol was in my right hand, hav- 
 ing one barrel loaded, and the other charged 
 w^ith powder ; and the peasant, instead of try- 
 ing to explain what his intentions were, made 
 a grasp at it. Nothing could have been more 
 easy than for either myself or my son to shoot 
 him dead ; but I contented myself with pushing 
 him back with my left hand, and again all was 
 confusion. The musket was once more delibe- 
 rately levelled at me,— the man who presented 
 it being less than twenty yards distant; and 
 why I was not killed on the spot I do not 
 know; but the same impulse which, in a better 
 cause, has often led me to close upon an enemy 
 in a similar situation, came into oi>eration then. 
 I sprang out of the wagon, with the couteau du 
 chasse under my left arm, and made a rush at 
 the armed man. The effect was very curious. 
 He not only did not fire, but both he and his 
 companions recoiled for an instant, and ran 
 
 V 
 
 *,. 
 
 \ 
 
 
 THE PEASANTRY. 
 
 371 
 
 towards a cottage by the roadside. Then it was 
 that I would have urged the postilion to flog 
 forwards, but the urchin was gone. He had 
 leaped from his seat when he saw me quit 
 the wagon, and now he was nowhere to be 
 
 found. 
 
 I turned my eyes next towards my own gal- 
 lant boy, and saw him standing in the wagon, 
 pistol in hand, as if waiting for orders ; and I 
 knew that he could be trusted, because the last 
 instructions which I had left with him were 
 not to fire, till I should give the signal. He 
 was as cool and collected as a veteran; and 
 I own that, perilous as our position was, I 
 looked at him, even then, with admiration. 
 But there was other and sharper work cut 
 out for me. The wagon having halted gave 
 time to the pursuers to close, and now on all 
 sides some thirty or forty men surrounded us. 
 Escape seemed impossible, and to spill blood, 
 except in the last extremity, I was very unwil- 
 ling. Accordingly I endeavoured to keep them 
 off by levelling now at one, now at another, and 
 for a minute or two the device served its pur- 
 pose ; but it could not, in the nature of things, 
 avail me long. I received a wound, over 
 the right eye, which partially stunned me, 
 and caused the blood to flow freely. While I 
 
372 WOUNDED AND OVERPOWERED. 
 
 Staggered, a blow struck the pistol out of my 
 hand, and the only weapon left me was the 
 couteau. It was a poor defence against so 
 many hedge-stakes and butts of muskets. I 
 was cut down in a moment, and my senses par- 
 tially forsook me. 
 
 I do not know how long I could have lain in 
 that trance, when I became all at once aware, 
 that the blows which at first continued to fall 
 upon me rapidly, had ceased. I looked up, and 
 beheld my assailants standing in a circle about 
 me, but leaning on their weapons and gazing 
 towards the rear. Thither I likewise turned 
 my eyes, and there I beheld my son, in the 
 hands of four men, two of whom were struggling 
 to deprive him of his pistol, which he would 
 not resign, while the other two were striking 
 at him, one with a bludgeon, the other with a 
 musket. It would have been strange had any 
 thought entered into my head, under such cir- 
 cumstances, than of his danger. I saw that my 
 short sword, though bent with the blows which 
 it had guarded, lay near me. I snatched it up, 
 and springing to my feet, opened a way for 
 myself through the throng, towards my boy. 
 Then, seizing one of the men, I had already the 
 point of the weapon at his throat, when, to my 
 extreme delight, he exclaimed in German, 
 
 A PARLEY. 
 
 373 
 
 " Spare my life, and I will answer for your's !" 
 I let him go instantly; not, indeed, being very 
 sanguine as to what might follow, but being 
 well aware that now we had nothing to depend 
 upon except his honour. And it gives me ex- 
 treme satisfaction to be in a condition to say 
 that he redeemed his pledge nobly. 
 
 A parley now ensued, and our German scho- 
 lar acting as interpreter, we gave up our broken 
 weapons, on the understanding that no personal 
 violence would be offered to us, but that we 
 should be carried to Count Leichtenberg, the 
 proprietor of the estate, and answer before him 
 for our characters and proceedings. We desired 
 nothing more, for we could not doubt that 
 Count Leichtenberg would at once comprehend 
 the nature of our position, and see that justice 
 was done upon the persons who had maltreated 
 us ; but our hopes on this head suffered an 
 eclipse, when, instead of replacing us in the 
 wagon, and marching us to the Count's resi- 
 dence, the same elderly man who had taken the 
 lead in the last attack, commanded us to be 
 conveyed into his cottage. He appeared, too, 
 as well as the rest, to be in a state of absolute 
 fuTjy — for having found upon my boy the spear- 
 head belonging to the gaff-stick, he rushed to- 
 wards me, and made a movement as if he would 
 
 H 
 
374 
 
 FURY OF THE BAND 
 
 fill 
 
 plunge it into my heart. Meanwhile two others 
 pinioned my arms, and the process of search be- 
 gan. I had not calculated on this, and obeymg 
 the impulse of the moment, I shook them off_ 
 Pistols, with which several of them were, I 
 found, supplied, were now levelled, and a repe- 
 tition of the fray had well-nigh taken place, 
 but a moment's reflection taught me that resist- 
 ance, if vain at the outset, would have been ten- 
 fold more useless now. I accordingly suffered 
 them to follow their own course, and in two 
 minutes my pockets were emptied of all their 
 
 contents. 
 
 And now arose the question, whence came 
 
 it about that the fury of the band should be so 
 
 much directed against my son ; and what were 
 
 the circumstances which placed him in the 
 
 situation from which I had been providentially 
 
 enabled to deliver him? His tale was briefly 
 
 this. He saw the crowd gathering round me ; 
 
 he called aloud for instructions how to act, and 
 
 receiving no answer, he waited only till he 
 
 beheld me on the ground. Then, careless of 
 
 what might befall to himself, he fired into the 
 
 middle of the throng, and by that shot saved 
 
 my life. They had not counted on any act of 
 
 hostility from a boy so young; and their 
 
 astonishment at his presumption diverted their 
 
 I PI 
 
 I 
 
 AGAINST MY SON. 
 
 375 
 
 thoughts from me, at a moment when a few 
 more blows would have ended my worldly war- 
 fare for ever. And fierce and bitter were the 
 terms in which they seemed to speak of him, 
 and dark and lowering were the looks with 
 which they regarded him ; but the noble fellow 
 did not so much as seem to be aware of his 
 own danger. Bruised he was, and swollen with 
 the blows which they had inflicted on him; yet 
 all his anxiety was with respect to me, whom 
 he watched with a sleepless vigilance, as if 
 even yet the moment might arrive, when he 
 must a^ain throw himself between me and 
 destruction. " Papa, there's a fellow pointing 
 a pistol at you," cried he one moment ; " Take 
 care, he will stab you from behind," was another 
 warning ; and not one syllable ever escaped him, 
 either as to his own sufferings, or the hazard 
 which he ran of suffering more. If that boy 
 fail to do honour to the profession for which he 
 is destined, the day will very imperfectly fulfil 
 the promise which the morning has given. 
 
 I had suffered very much in this most un- 
 equal struggle. Besides the first wound over 
 the eye, and some severe bruises on the arms 
 and body, I had received two deep cuts in the 
 head ; one of which laid the forehead o]>en just 
 over the left temple, and the other divided the 
 
376 
 
 CARRIED TO A COTTAGE 
 
 scalp near the crown of the head. I was weak, 
 too, from the loss of blood, for it ran from me 
 like water ; and the excitement of resistance 
 being over, a good deal of lassitude and famt- 
 ness followed. But we had neither leisure n«r 
 opportunity to indulge these weaknesses. They 
 hurried us into the cottage, and we were there 
 questioned, through the man whom I had spared, 
 as to what we were, and whither we were 
 going. We told them, but they scouted the 
 idea We were spies from the Turkish side ; 
 we were brigands from Italy ; we should be 
 carried next day before the stuhlriechter, and 
 by him transferred to the festung. What right 
 had we to offer any resistance ? and the young 
 Wr, above all, for him to fire ! We deserved 
 to be put to death upon the spot. I bore all 
 this patiently; for I knew that to do otherwise 
 ,vould be useless ;-nay, I even appealed to 
 them, whether they would not give some water 
 to wash the blood from my hurts, and they 
 gave it. There were some women m this cot- 
 tage ; and women, meet them in what state 
 of society you may, are always the friends of 
 the oppressed. It was by one of them that a 
 basin of water was brought, and by-and-by a 
 flask of weak sour wine; which, whether salu. 
 brious or not, under the circumstances of the 
 
 AS PRISONERS. 
 
 377 
 
 case, went down very gratefully, and which the 
 dorfriechter, for so the grizzly-bearded peasant 
 proved to be, did not object to our drinking. 
 
 It was by this time quite dark; indeed 
 twilight had set in when the affray began, and 
 ere it terminated in our capture, the shadows 
 of night had gathered over us. One or two 
 small tapers were accordingly lighted, the 
 feeble flame from which cast over the whole 
 scene an air of extreme wildness. It seemed, 
 indeed, to me, that the people into whose 
 hands we had fallen, if they were not brigands 
 by profession, ought to have been such; for 
 they sat or stood round us, one grasping a 
 musket, another with pistols in his belt, and a 
 third brandishing a huge old-fashioned sword 
 naked in his hand. Long knives, likewise, 
 were also frequent among them ; and when to 
 all this is added their striking dress and their 
 more than half-barbarous bearing, the effect 
 upon persons situated as we were, may be 
 imagined. I do not hesitate to say, that though 
 not quite free from some natural anxiety in 
 reference to the future, I enjoyed my position 
 very much. Of our personal safety, I enter- 
 tained no serious apprehension. I knew that 
 if they had meant to murder us, they would 
 have done so when their blood was hot ; and 
 
 i 
 
y 
 
 378 EXAMINATION OF OUB BAGGAGE. 
 
 my misgivings as to what might be the result 
 of an examination before a magistrate, were 
 then slight indeed. And therefore, though 
 feeble from loss of blood, and a good deal 
 chafed by the overthrow of all our plan of 
 travel, I was inclined to make the most of 
 things as I found them ; and not only did not 
 exhibit, but really did not feel, the most remote 
 inclination to despond. 
 
 If the general aspect and behaviour of the 
 gang interested us, while grouped round us, 
 our feelings were still more excited when they 
 addressed themselves to the occupation of 
 examining our baggage. Of the contents of 
 the knapsacks they made light; even my 
 pocket-book, witli its small store of paper ten- 
 florin notes, and Farquhar's most convenient 
 bills of exchange, appeared to be treated as a 
 thing unworthy of their regard. But when 
 the/came to the fishing-rods, their indignation 
 burst forth again in a very violent manner. It 
 was clear that they mistook them for deadly 
 instruments, constructed on some mysterious, 
 and therefore horrid, principle. At first, in- 
 deed, they seemed afraid to handle them, and 
 their dismay was especially excited, when one 
 of them shaking the plug of the principal joint 
 beside his ear, overheard something rattle 
 
 KINDNESS OF THE WOMEN. 
 
 379 
 
 
 within its cavity. I shall never forget the 
 expression of that man's countenance, as he 
 cast the innocent piece of lance-wood from 
 him, or the look of wisdom which accompanied 
 the shake of the dorfriechter's head, as he pro- 
 nounced the whole instrument to be " sair 
 
 schlight." 
 
 I had lost a good deal of blood, and as they 
 neither bound up my wounds, nor gave me any- 
 thing wherewith to perform that office for 
 myself, the faintness which a draught of wine 
 had for a moment dispelled, began to return, 
 and I had some difficulty in keeping my seat 
 on a chest where they had placed me. The 
 women saw my plight, and again took pity on 
 me. Though I could not follow the progress 
 of their appeal, I saw that two of them were 
 remonstrating with the riechter ; and immedi- 
 ately afterwards, our interpreter asked me, 
 whether I should like to lie down. I answered 
 in the affirmative; and my boy and I were 
 forthwith led into another and a longer chamber, 
 on the earthen floor of which these same 
 women shook down some straw. Let me 
 describe the apartment, as well as the bearing 
 of its occupants, — because without entertaining 
 some correct notion of the one, the reader will 
 scarcely be able rightly to estimate the effect 
 which was produced by the other. 
 
 II 
 
380 
 
 OUR PEISON, 
 
 I 
 
 The room was precisely such a place as here 
 and there does duty in one of the worst sort of 
 Highland farm-houses for a kitchen. It was a 
 square of perhaps eighteen feet, low in the roof, 
 ^vith a mud floor, and on two of its sides set 
 round with rude bed-places. There were, if I 
 recollect right, three small windows, two of 
 which looted in the same direction towards the 
 road ; and in the interval between them stood 
 a table, with several stools ranged near it. In 
 other respects I have only to observe, that it 
 could boast of no fire-place,-not even of a 
 stove,-and that when the door was closed, 
 not a chink of the windows being left open, 
 the sense of stifling and the extreme heat were 
 by no means easy to bear. 
 
 Such was the room ; now for some account 
 of those who filled it, and of the diff-erent occu- 
 pations to which, during the night, they apphed 
 
 themselves. 
 
 First, then, out of the whole body of our 
 assailants, ten, including the riechter, remained 
 to keep guard over us ; the rest, after loitermg 
 till near eleven o'clock about the door, departed 
 each man to his own home. Of these ten, 
 again, four, whose wives and children were 
 domiciled in the cottage, went a little before 
 midnight to bed,— that is, turned in,— the 
 
 AND GUARDS. 
 
 381 
 
 women and children doing the like,— into the 
 beds, by which our temporary prison was sur- 
 rounded. Meanwhile, the six, all of them 
 armed to the teeth, planted one of their body 
 as a sentinel over the door, while the remaining 
 five seated themselves beside the table, and 
 over a large flask of wine, kept up a very ani- 
 mated conversation. By-and-by they took to 
 some game of chance with dice ; and as their 
 enormous brass-butted pistols lay beside them, 
 and their guns rested against the wall, the spec- 
 tacle was altogether such as a painter might 
 have loved to behold. Then, again, there were 
 in the room three or four dogs, which lay about 
 in difterent directions, and appeared to keep as 
 far as possible from coming in contact with the 
 dicers. And finally, the vermin. Let me be 
 excused for referring to that. The pain of my 
 wounds, now stiffening with their open gashes, 
 was bad enough ; but it was a trifle in compari- 
 son with the suffering which myriads of these 
 active and unsleeping tormentors occasioned. 
 
 On the straw which the women had spread 
 for us, and over which they threw a coarse 
 sheet, my boy and I lay down. Though swollen 
 and bruised in all parts of his body, he was still 
 so engrossed by anxiety on my account, that 
 he not only uttered no complaint, but appeared 
 
THE rOSTMASTER. 
 
 383 
 
 382 
 
 VISITED BY 
 
 scarcely to suffer. " Try to sleep, papa," he 
 whispered to me, as soon as we were settled. 
 " Go to sleep if you can. You are not fit to 
 watch. I will keep awake, and if I see any- 
 thing suspicious I will rouse you." Of course 
 I did not agree to this arrangement; first, 
 because it would have been cruel to tax the 
 vigilance of one so young, and next, because I 
 really did not feel that any benefit could accrue 
 from it. I told him, what was true, that we 
 were completely in their power, and that if 
 they meant to put us out of the way, they 
 could do so just as effectually while we were 
 awake as when we slept. I therefore recom- 
 mended him to close his eyes, and assured him 
 that I would do the same. The poor boy, with 
 great apparent satisfaction, adopted my advice, 
 and in a few minutes I knew, from his heavy 
 breathing, that he was fast asleep. For myself, 
 bodily suffering, rather than the slightest feeling 
 of anxiety, kept me for a good while awake ; 
 and when I did drop into a doze, it was feverish 
 and broken, and every way unrefreshing. 
 
 While we sat in the other room, there had 
 come in a person better dressed than the gang 
 whose prisoners we were ; who, though he spoke 
 German very imperfectly, endeavoured to open 
 a conversation with us, and soon evinced by 
 
 r 
 
 his manner, that the true merits of the case 
 were not by him misunderstood. He arrived, 
 too, at a moment exceedingly critical for us; 
 that is, to say while the riechter was examining 
 our papers, among which, beside our jmssports, 
 regularly viseed at Vienna, there were several 
 introductory letters to persons of rank and con- 
 sideration in different parts of Germany. These 
 he insisted that the riechter should tie up in 
 one bundle, and reserve for the inspection of 
 the magistrate. And then turning to us, he 
 inquired what we were. We told him ; and 
 he repeated our answer to those around him ; 
 but with one consent they exclaimed against 
 the idea, and asserted that we were spies from 
 the Turkish provinces. All this my friend, 
 whom I had encountered so closely in the 
 melee, explained to me; for having been a 
 soldier in the Austrian service, he had there 
 learned the language, and spoke it much more 
 fluently than the stranger. I asked him who 
 the stranger was, and he informed me that he 
 was a postmaster, and that he resided in the 
 large house, the hope of obtaining assistance 
 from which induced me to fire the first shot in 
 the fray. It appeared, however, that he was 
 not at home when the struggle took place; 
 that his women told him of the circumstance 
 
384 
 
 ATTEMPT UPON MY LIFE. 
 
 on his return ; and that now his business was 
 to inquire into the facts of the case, though it 
 was quite clear that he had no power, what- 
 ever his inclination might be, to better our 
 condition. When we rose to move towards 
 the sleeping-room, he wished us good night, 
 and then he and the old soldier exchanged a 
 few words apart. I paid little regard to their 
 conference at the moment ; yet it was entirely 
 of us that they spoke, and the event proved 
 that their language had been altogether friendly. 
 I was just beginning to drop into a dose 
 when one of the dicers, who appeared to have 
 drunk more freely than his companions, sud- 
 denly rose, and grasping a horn lantern in one 
 hand, and a pistol in the other, approached our 
 lair. Though pretending to be asleep, I watched 
 him narrowly, and had the pleasure of seeing 
 him hold the lantern down towards my face, 
 and then point his pistol at my head. Even 
 then, I must declare in all sincerity, that I did 
 not entertain the slightest apprehension; at 
 all events, the feeling produced no other rea- 
 soning than this, — " If he choose to fire, I can't 
 help myself, so he shall not be gratified by dis- 
 covering in me any symptoms of alarm." Ac- 
 cordingly, though I opened my eyes and looked 
 him full in the face, I neither spoke nor 
 
 VISITED BY A MERCHANT. 
 
 385 
 
 ] 
 
 \ 
 
 moved. The fellow uttered some exclamation 
 and gazed about, upon which one of his com- 
 panions sprang forward, and, taking him by the 
 arm, led him away. I looked at this person, 
 and saw with no little satisfaction, that he was 
 my old soldier. He caught my eye; and having 
 conducted his comrade back to his seat, he 
 came to me and said, " Don't be alarmed ; they 
 dare not injure you. I will stay by you, and 
 not a hair of your head shall be hurt." I 
 thanked him ; and composing myself to sleep 
 again, was soon unconscious of the realities of 
 my situation. 
 
 I do not know how long I had continued 
 thus, when the voice of some person speaking 
 in the English tongue, called me back to the 
 world of realities. I looked up, and saw stand- 
 ing over me, a man in the garb of a gentleman, 
 who addressed me as an Englishman, and 
 begged me to inform him, how we chanced to 
 come into such a plight. I sat up imme- 
 diately; and thanking Providence which had 
 thus sent assistance in our hour of need, I told 
 him all that had happened. " I am not sur- 
 prised at your story," was his answer ; " they 
 are a lawless and savage race ; indeed, the won- 
 der with me is, that you escaped with life. But 
 we must not talk of that. I am a merchant, a 
 
 VOL. III. 8 
 
386 
 
 HIS ADVICE AND 
 
 FRIENDLY CONDUCT. 
 
 387 
 
 resident in Fiume; and though not your 
 countryman, have seen enough of your nation 
 to value you as you deserve. We must consider 
 how we can most easily and most immediately 
 deliver you from the hands into which vou have 
 fallen." 
 
 I told him of the compact into which they 
 had entered with me, of carrying us to Count 
 Leichtenberg, and entreated that he would 
 send a trusty messenger to the Count's resi- 
 dence, and inform him of our situation. 
 
 " I think it will serve your purpose better," 
 said he, " if I send for the English consul from 
 Fiume. He is your natural protector; and 
 whatever zeal, and courage, and discretion can 
 dictate, he will accomplish for you. I am very 
 sorry that I cannot stay beside you till he 
 come ; for I am travelling on urgent business 
 to Agram. But the postmaster will, I am 
 sure, furnish us with a trustworthy express, and 
 as the distance is only four miles (German) 
 from this, you may look for his arrival by nine 
 or ten o'clock in the morning." 
 
 I thanked this good Samaritan with great 
 sincerity ; yet I own that I was more disposed 
 to throw myself on Count Leichtenberg, for I 
 had seen enough of Hungarian gentlemen to 
 be assured that he would act fairly by me ; and 
 
 at the moment, I must acknowledge, that I 
 earnestly desired to have satisfaction on the 
 ruffians who had misused us. But our friend 
 from Fiume judged better than I, and I left 
 the matter entirely in his hands. Before he 
 went, however, he caused the whole of our 
 papers to be shown him, and required the 
 dorfriechter to account for the outrage of 
 which he had been guilty; and the latter, I have 
 reason to believe, being more staggered by 
 his assurances, than he had been by those of 
 the postmaster, began to doubt whether the 
 supposed spies might not, after all, prove to be 
 true men. Neither did his kindness and con- 
 sideration for our characters stop there. 
 
 " I know these people well," said he; " when 
 it is proved to them that they have abused 
 travellers, whom it was their duty to protect, 
 they will try to establish some charge of 
 violence against you; so I will take the pre- 
 caution as I proceed on my way, to inquire at 
 every stage, how you have conducted your- 
 selves along the road." No prophecy could be 
 more entirely accomplished than this; and 
 never, perhaps, was a measure of precaution 
 more judicious. Mr. Maliovich made his in- 
 quiries, and found that no human being com- 
 plained of us. Yet when the matter came to 
 
 s 2 
 
388 
 
 ARRIVAL OF 
 
 be investigated, by order of the Austrian go- 
 vernment, a thousand incredible tales of our 
 ferocity were got up ; and a screen was in con- 
 sequence thrown over parties, whose error, even 
 if it were one of judgment, ought to have 
 incurred the censure of those under whom they 
 
 acted. 
 
 Our good Samaritan left us ; and stoical as I 
 believed myself to be, while yet the horizon 
 seemed absolutely dark around us, I must con- 
 fess that the prospect which he held out of a 
 speedy deliverance, brought with it no trivial 
 accession to my composure. I fell asleep, and 
 did not wake again till daylight. Meanwhile 
 the dorfriechter had sent for the pandour from 
 Dalniza, the same insolent and overbearing 
 menial, of whose disposition to play the tyrant 
 on a small scale, we had already received the 
 assurance ; and the effect of his apparition, 
 belted, and armed with a dragoon sabre, was 
 certainly not cheering. Moreover, he made 
 no secret of his determination to make me feel 
 that I was in his power. He brought with 
 him a strong chain, with manacles for the wrist 
 and ankle, and, ostentatiously throwing it down 
 in the corner of the room, commanded us* to 
 rise. We did so ; and then came the question, 
 « Where is your march-route ?" I told him the 
 
 THE DALNIZA PANDOUR. 
 
 389 
 
 truth, that in the struggle it had been forced 
 from me, and torn. He laughed aloud, and 
 said, " That is right." " But you have seen it," 
 added I; "you had it in your hand when I paid 
 you for tlie forstban." "I!" said the scoundrel ; 
 " I never saw anything of the sort, and I don't 
 believe that you had such a thing." 
 
 It would have been useless to enter into a 
 dispute with a man of this temperament ; so I 
 turned away from him ; and still bleeding — for 
 my wounds had not been closed, and though 
 stiff, continued to send forth at intervals gouts 
 of blood, — I sat down at the table. And from 
 that period till near nine o'clock was an inter- 
 val of great anxiety and suspense. The heads 
 of the party whose prisoners we were, retired 
 into the other room, there to get up their case 
 against us ; and long and painful to themselves 
 seemed to be the operation of doing so. We 
 were still guarded by the subordinates ; and so 
 determined was their vigilance that they would 
 not permit me, at least, to pass beyond the 
 door, except under the charge of an escort. 
 And here I must record a little trait, of bar- 
 barity on the part of the men, and kindness 
 among the women, of which the latter will 
 remain in my mind long after the former is 
 forgotten. I had gone out of the room for a 
 
390 
 
 KINDNESS OF A WOMAN. 
 
 moment, when a ruffian, who lingered behind, 
 as if taking advantage of the absence of such 
 slight protection as I could then afford to my 
 son, struck the boy a blow with his fist. One 
 of the women was by, and saw it. She looked 
 compassionately at the sufferer without speak- 
 ing ; but no sooner had the brute quitted the 
 chamber than she ran to a sort of closet, and 
 bringing out a piece of black bread, gave it, 
 with a basin of milk, to the boy. He was very 
 hungry, and ate it with thankfulness. 
 
 Mr. Maliovich had either not calculated 
 with sufficient accuracy on the impediments 
 which a mountain road throws in a horseman's 
 way, or his anxiety to comfort us under imme- 
 diate suffering, by the hope of a speedy deliver- 
 ance, had induced him to promise more than, 
 under the circumstances of the case, either the 
 express or the consul could perform. We had 
 been led to expect the arrival of the latter by 
 nine o'clock at the latest ; and as hope in such 
 cases is apt to outstrip reality, we had looked 
 for his coming ever since the day feebly dawned. 
 As hour after hour stole on without bringing 
 him, our anxiety began, in spite of ourselves, 
 to deepen ; and it assumed a very strong cast 
 indeed, when we found that an immediate re- 
 moval was determined on. Whither would 
 
 EXERTIONS OF THE POSTMASTER. 391 
 
 they take us? That we could not tell; but 
 being entirely in their power, there seemed for 
 us n'o other course than to submit, with what 
 patience we might, to every hardship or insult 
 that might be heaped upon us. 
 
 The postmaster, Mr. Adamich, as he had 
 acted in a very friendly manner over-night, so 
 he continued, after his return to our prison- 
 house in the morning, to cheer us. He watched 
 the proceedings in the other room, likewise, and 
 prevailed upon the dorfriechter to resist the 
 pandoui-'s proposal of putting us in irons on 
 the instant. As he knew his man, however, 
 and calculated justly on the uses to which he 
 was likely to turn the power which chance 
 had given, he came up to me and whispered,— 
 that as we were going to be taken before the 
 commissary of the circle, he would write a note 
 to that functionary,— and request that I might 
 be dealt with as little harshly as possible, till the 
 English consul, who had been sent for, should 
 arrhre. " But you must take care to deliver 
 my note yourself," said he. « The pandour is a 
 horrid scoundrel, and if I gave it to him, he 
 would be sure to withhold it." I came into 
 this arrangement, as may be supposed, very 
 gladly, and the postmaster withdrew to write 
 his letter. 
 
392 CABBIED BACK TO DALNIZA. 
 
 By this time the wagon, the same which had 
 been supplied to us the day before, drove up to 
 the door, and our baggage and arms being 
 thrown in, we were desired to mount. We did 
 so, and taking our seats on a sack, found that 
 the pandour and two other men, each armed 
 with a long gun, were to act as our escort. Of 
 the rest, all who had not departed into the 
 mountains followed on foot, and thus we set out 
 towards Dalniza. Never till this moment had I 
 been conscious from the commencement of the 
 whole adventure, of any feeling which partook 
 at all of the character of despondency. On 
 the contrary, I was more than hopeful through- 
 out ; but now, as we drove back in the direction 
 of the village where we had so recently been 
 subjected to more than insult, I cannot deny 
 that my confidence began to abate. As if the 
 elements, too, were resolved to exert their in- 
 fluence against us, the sky became gradually 
 covered with black clouds, and a thunder-storm 
 began, which continued without intermission, 
 all the Avhile we journeyed down the ravine. 
 Yet the kind postmaster was not forgetful of 
 his promise; and the fidelity with which he 
 seemed to watch over us, was not without its 
 effect While the wagon was passing his door 
 he ran out, and putting a letter into my hand, 
 
 PUT IN IRONS. 
 
 393 
 
 nodded approbation, when he saw me refuse to 
 give to the pandour, and bestow it in my own 
 
 pocket. 
 
 On we went, the rain falling in torrents, 
 while the lightning flashed bright and frequent, 
 and the thunder— echoed back from the rocks 
 and precipices near— sounded like a continued 
 discharge of artillery. Once, and only once, 
 we halted at the door of a wine-house, where 
 the pandour, ordering a large flask to be brought 
 out, drank it with his companions in the wagon. 
 And new, having reached the village, we were 
 conveyed, with an extreme show of triumph^ 
 along the principal street to the pandour'& 
 quarters, where, unwashed, and with coat, and 
 shirt, and garments, dyed in blood, I was not 
 surprised to find that I was an object of extreme 
 curiosity to the crowd, which instantly collected 
 round it. But the pandour was not content 
 that even thus I should be subjected to incon- 
 venience. He produced his chain and rings, 
 and with excessive harshness proceeded to force 
 one upon my wrist, and another upon my ankle, 
 and so to fasten me, hand and foot together. 
 It would have been idle to resist, and very 
 foolish to complain, so I only smiled at so 
 wanton a display of ill-feeling ; and never once 
 winced, even when on locking the iron on my 
 
 s .3 
 
 i 
 
394 
 
 VILLANY OF THE PANDOUR. 
 
 wrist, he bruised tbe skin till it grew black. 
 Yet even with this the ruffian was not satisfied. 
 I was now powerless. He knew that I was so, 
 and under the pretext of searching for con- 
 cealed arms, he thrust his hand into my pocket, 
 and pulled out the postmaster's letter. I pro- 
 tested against his detention of it, and told him 
 for whom it was meant ; but he laughed in my 
 face, tore it into shreds, and threw the pieces 
 out of the window. 
 
 Our plight was by this time sorry enough ; 
 and the indignities to which we were subjected, 
 differed in nothing from what might have been 
 expected. That the crowd might have the 
 better opportunity of gratifying both their 
 curiosity and caprices, the door of the room 
 was thrown open, and the threshold as well as 
 the windows, were soon blocked up with per- 
 sons anxious to look at us. We should have been 
 amused at all this, had we been certain that 
 the consul would come at all; but when noon 
 arrived without bringing him, our anxiety rose 
 to a painful height, and the appearances of 
 mirth we considered it necessary from time to 
 time to put on, were generally, I am bound to 
 confess, forced. At length, however, the state 
 of suspense in which for a couple of hours we 
 had remained, was broken in upon by the pan- 
 
 ARRIVAL OF THE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 395 
 
 dour, who, with all possible insolence of manner, 
 commanded us to follow him. Hitherto, our 
 baggage had been taken charge of by others. 
 Now, — I presume for the purpose of degrading 
 us in the eyes of the populace, — we were made 
 to carry it ourselves; and thus loaded and 
 chained, I was conducted along the street, my 
 son walking beside me, and only so far in better 
 plight, that on him no irons were forced. 
 
 We traversed the whole extent of the town, 
 and being conducted to a house in the principal 
 street, which I found afterwards to be the par- 
 sonage, we were there, at the outer door, so as 
 still to be open to the insults of the mob, 
 desired to stand still. We did so, till by-and- 
 by, a carriage drove into the place, and it was 
 announced to us that it contained the stuhl- 
 riechter. I looked towards the vehicle, and 
 seeing a really not discreditable-looking per- 
 sonage, with a beaver hat, black coat, cloth 
 trousers, and other indications of a gentleman 
 about him, my spirit in some sort revived ; for 
 I could not doubt that he at least would both 
 understand and pay proper respect to a passport; 
 and that the rest of my papers would convince 
 him that at least we were not Turks. But I 
 had calculated on more of discernment, — rather, 
 perhaps, than of good feeling, — than belonged to 
 
396 
 
 OUR EXAMINATION, 
 
 OUR EXAMINATION. 
 
 397 
 
 Mi 
 
 him. I saw the pandour make his charge 
 while the carriage stopped in the street, and I 
 advanced to reply to it. " Where is your pass?" 
 demanded he. I told him that the gendarme 
 had it in his keeping ; upon which he alighted, 
 went into the priest's house, and for some time 
 I neither saw nor heard more of him. 
 
 A good half hour at the least had elapsed, 
 when my son and I were ordered to pass the 
 threshold, where, after giving up our knapsacks 
 to undergo examination, we continued for some 
 time longer to be detained in the passage. By- 
 and-by we received a summons to enter the 
 justice-room, where sat the stuhlriechter, ano- 
 ther person, who proved to be the commissary, 
 and the priest of the parish. I really do not 
 know in what terms to describe the sort of 
 examination that followed. Our passports were 
 in the magistrate's hands ; so were our letters, 
 two of which were to the English minister at 
 Munich, one to the Austrian governor of the 
 Tyrol, and others to persons of similar station 
 elsewhere. I appealed to these as bearing col- 
 lateral testimony to our respectability ; but the 
 magistrate was not acquainted with the French 
 language, and as most of the letters, at least, 
 bore French addresses, he could make nothing 
 of them. Then our march-route, — where was it? 
 
 I told him exactly what had befallen, and 
 appealed to the pandour, to corroborate my 
 statement ; but the pandour utterly denied that 
 he had ever seen such a document; and the 
 magistrate, though he knew that we had ob- 
 tained our forstban, never thought of making 
 the officer explain, how such a privilege came 
 to be conceded to us without the production of 
 a regular order. I heard all this with great in- 
 dignation, and pointing to my chains, asked why 
 I was kept thus, and whether a police-officer 
 were permitted to destroy a letter which had 
 been addressed to the commissary, for the ex- 
 press purpose of saving me from, at least, this 
 indignity? The worthy magistrate listened to my 
 appeal, but took no notice of it, and the investi- 
 gation went on after a fashion peculiar to itself. 
 I neither knew at the moment, nor have I 
 ever learned, what the charges were which 
 were brought against me. I believe, indeed, 
 that the ferocity of a savage was laid to my 
 door ; that I was described as ill-using the boy 
 who drove me, the person whose horses had 
 been assigned to me, the pandour who procured 
 all things of which I stood in need ; and in- 
 deed, the entire jiopulation of the town and 
 its vicinity. Then, again, the horrible instru- 
 ments of destruction which we carried about 
 
398 
 
 ORDERED TO BE 
 
 with US, being described and produced, our 
 poor innocent fishing-rods became evidence 
 against us of a thirst for human life which was 
 quite fearful. Moreover all this was done, — 
 not under the solemn sanction of an oath, — nor 
 yet after deliberate examination of the wit- 
 nesses in detail,— but by voices from the crowd, 
 each hallooing out, in a dialect which to me was 
 incomprehensible, something which I had no 
 opportunity to contradict, but which was re- 
 ceived, and carefully recorded. But why con- 
 tinue these details ? The results were, that the 
 magistrate, after making sundry marks in our 
 passport, and especially commenting on the 
 circumstance, that it had never been viseed since 
 we crossed the Hungarian frontier, pronounced 
 that we had no business in Croatia at all ; that 
 the Hungarian Chancery having permitted us 
 only to visit Pesth and to return, he should 
 send us back to Agram, there to be dealt with 
 as the law and its administrators might think 
 
 fitting. 
 
 I was by far too indignant at the whole 
 of that functionary's proceedings, to waste upon 
 him either much reasoning or any appeal to his 
 better feelings. I told him, indeed, that the 
 English consul had been sent for, and begged 
 him to delay our departure at least till there 
 
 CONDUCTED TO AGRAM. 
 
 399 
 
 should be time for his arrival. I then, finding 
 him deaf to that proposal, besought that my 
 chains might be struck off, and permission given 
 to me at least to have my wounds dressed, and to 
 change my apparel. Of these wounds, however, 
 though they continued to bleed in his presence, 
 he made very light, though he caused one of our 
 assailants to strip, and affected to shudder at a 
 much more trifling hurt which he had received 
 from me in the melee. He would consent, how- 
 ever, that I should change my dress; and he 
 directed the pandour to see that this indulgence 
 was granted. But the pandour took orders from 
 no man. Being now fairly committed, we were 
 once more marched back to the pandour's quar- 
 ters, where not only was water for washing re- 
 fused, and a change of apparel withheld, but the 
 proposal to obtain them was treated as some- 
 thing pre-eminently ridiculous and impertinent. 
 We were now gloomy enough, for we could 
 not tell how the affair might terminate. The 
 consul, on whose arrival we had hitherto dwelt 
 so much, came not, and the prospect before us 
 was of a journey to Agram, performed under 
 the escort of the very men who had maltreated 
 us, and an incarceration afterwards, should we 
 ever reach Agram at all, in some fortress whence 
 it might be both tedious and diflicult to make 
 
400 
 
 FORTITUDE OF MY SON. 
 
 our case known even to our own ambassador 
 at Vienna. We looked at one another ruefully 
 enough, and our mirth— for, strange to say, there 
 was some disposition to mirth in our very sad- 
 ness, — took a somewhat awkward form. "If 
 they don't separate us, papa," said my son, " we 
 can manage to spend even a month in a dun- 
 geon tolerably well !" 
 
 « Yes," was the obvious answer, " but there 
 are those at home, your mother and brothers, 
 in a strange land,— what will they think if they 
 hear nothing of us, even for a month ? And 
 then only think of poking our heads through 
 the iron bars, and begging a kreutzer for cha- 
 rity's sake !" 
 
 We were thus conversing, when a woman, 
 whom I had observed eyeing us with more than 
 idle curiosity for some time, entered the chamber, 
 and asked us in German if we should like to 
 eat ? I replied at once in the affirmative, for it 
 was now three o'clock, and I had tasted nothing 
 except the sour wine in the cottage, since the 
 previous day at noon. 
 
 « Well, then, if you will give me the money, 
 I will go and purchase some meat and potatoes, 
 and dress them for you." 
 
 I thanked her, but told her, what was true, 
 that I had no money, for her people had taken 
 from me every kreutzer. 
 
 ARRIVAL OF THE CONSUL. 
 
 401 
 
 "Well, well," replied the kind creature, 
 " you shall have something to eat, notwith- 
 standing." 
 
 She left us, but in less than half an hour 
 returned with a very palatable mess of stewed 
 beef and a few potatoes. Wine, also, was fur- 
 nished, and we sat down. But the meal was 
 proceeding heavily enough when my son, who 
 sat with his back to the wall, suddenly looked 
 across the table and exclaimed, " Papa, who is 
 that?" I turned round, and beheld standing 
 near me three gentlemen, — one of whom ad- 
 dressed me in English, and hoped that I was 
 not seriously injured. I sprang to my feet. 
 It was Mr. Hill, the English vice-consul, who, 
 with admirable skill as well as diligence, had 
 exerted himself from the instant Mr.Maliovich's 
 despatch reached him, to afford us such aid as 
 would be effectual to our deliverance; and who, 
 having been nobly supported by the governor 
 of Fiume, was now arrived, bringing in his 
 train a surgeon to dress our hurts, and a legal 
 gentleman, attached to the governor's office, to 
 see that justice was rendered to us. I should 
 entirely fail were I to attempt a description 
 of the effect which such a vision produced upon 
 both of us. We felt from the instant that my 
 hand was grasped in Mr. Hill's, that our troubles 
 
! 
 
 402 
 
 COMPLETE ALTERATION 
 
 were over, and the lapse of a brief space sufficed 
 to assure us that our anticipations had been 
 founded on justice. 
 
 Explanations, and the clearing up of diffi- 
 culties, are always wearisome to follow; and 
 I have said so much of an affair purely 
 personal, that I am not willing now to enlarge 
 upon it ; yet there is a debt of gratitude due 
 both to Mr. Hill and his companions which I 
 am bound to discharge. Leaving the surgeon 
 to do his part by washing and bandaging up 
 my hurts, Mr. Hill and his legal adviser 
 proceeded straight to the priest's house, wherQ 
 with some difficulty they prevailed upon the 
 stuhlriechter to re-open the case, and to have 
 me and my accusers again brought before him. 
 There was something almost ludicrous in the 
 revolution which the presence of these gen- 
 tlemen appeared to effect in the deportment 
 of the parties with whom lay my controversy. 
 The pandour lowered his insolent tone, and 
 became submissive, and well-nigh servile. The 
 priest, who had certainly not befriended me 
 when alone, and who refused to come when I 
 sent to beg an interview with him in our prison- 
 house, put on a bland and gentle demeanour ; 
 and the commissary protested that he was 
 extremely sorry for what had happened. Nay, 
 
 IN THE STATE OF AFFAIRS. 
 
 403 
 
 more, our young driver, whether in contradic- 
 tion of any previous statement or not I cannot 
 tell, now declared that I had never beaten nor 
 otherwise ill-treated him, while the peasant who 
 began the fray was, on the lad's testimony, con- 
 victed, carried out of the room, and flogged on 
 the instant. Yet all this while I was subject 
 to treatment which reflected no great honour 
 on the consideration of the authorities which 
 sanctioned it. The surgeon was in the act of 
 binding up my head, when the stuhlriechter's 
 pandour, — not the miscreant of whose cruelties 
 I had such right to complain, — came, and with 
 great insolence insisted that I should follow 
 him into the magistrate's presence. I paid no 
 regard to him, of course, till the dressing was 
 finished, but then I did follow ; and again they 
 marched me, chained hand and foot together, 
 the whole length of the street. Nay, more, 
 in this plight, with the iron entering into my 
 flesh, the stuhlriechter permitted me to stand 
 till Mr. Hill protested against the continuation 
 of such usage, and the chains were removed. 
 Finally his intelligent and most zealous legal 
 friend so argued my case, that the magistrate 
 became convinced that he had gone too far; 
 and I was ultimately set free, and given into 
 the hands of the consul. 
 
404 
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON THE 
 
 It is just that I should state, before I bring 
 this tale to an end, both the steps which were 
 taken in order to obtain redress for so gross an 
 outrage, and the results to which I have been 
 informed that they led. A large portion of 
 blame was laid, both by myself and others, upon 
 the stuhlriechter ; and complaints were lodged 
 against him for having, to say the least of it, 
 greatly exceeded his duty. I am not now sure 
 that I and my friends acted judiciously in 
 making this our chief ground of complaint. 
 The stuhlriechter unquestionably erred. He 
 had no right, on such charges, to set an English 
 passport at defiance; and it was, to say the 
 least of it, very harsh and cruel to keep a 
 wounded man in chains. Moreover, it would 
 have been no slur upon his own or his country's 
 honour, to have waited, before consigning us to 
 prison, for the arrival of the English consul, 
 who from hour to hour was expected. In like 
 manner, he was exceedingly negligent, after the 
 truths of the case were made apparent to him, 
 in vindicating the majesty even of his own laws. 
 Such a brute as the pandour of Dalniza ought 
 not to have been continued in authority one 
 hour; indeed, his violence in tearing a letter 
 which was addressed to the commissary, deserved 
 some punishment more severe than dismissal. 
 
 CONDUCT OF THE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 405 
 
 But I do believe that the magistrate erred, 
 rather because he was wanting in experience or 
 sound judgment, than from any desire on his 
 part to violate the rule of right or the law of 
 nations. He was insolent, it is true, and over- 
 bearing, when I stood as a prisoner before him. 
 He disbelieved all that I said, and gave credit, 
 or seemed to give credit, to the peasants ; but 
 then, it must not be forgotten, that I was covered 
 with blood, strange of speech, unwashed, un- 
 shaved, and in every point of view in a plight 
 which certainly laid me open to suspicion. I 
 think, then, that in bringing our chief complaint 
 against him, we were more forgetful than we 
 ought to have been, of the circumstances of 
 extenuation which he had it in his power to 
 plead. On the other hand, I am quite sure 
 that he, in withholding from the person whom 
 he had wronged such an apology as one gentle- 
 man is always bound to offer, and another to 
 accept, did himself no honour; and that the 
 ban of Croatia, in the decision at which they 
 arrived, have given slender proof either of their 
 wisdom or their sense of justice. 
 
 The magistrate who sanctioned all the vio- 
 lence of which the peasants were guilty, has 
 been screened ; while on the peasants corporal 
 punishment has been inflicted — very unneces- 
 
406 
 
 JOURNEY TO FIUME. 
 
 sarily. Neither I nor anybody else could wish 
 such men to be flogged. It would have been 
 wiser, and more to the purpose, had the govern- 
 ment provided for the safety of that road, by 
 quartering some of its troops in the villages 
 which skirt it. 
 
 My tale of Hungarian travel is told. Set 
 free from the durance in which for a day and a 
 night we had been kept, we transferred our 
 knapsacks, now restored to us, to Mr. Hill's 
 carriage; and after supping at the kind post- 
 masters house, we continued our journey all 
 night towards Fiume. T am not able to say a 
 word concerning the splendid mountain district 
 through which we passed. Though the moon 
 shone bright, I was too ill to reap any benefit 
 from her brilliancy ; indeed, it was only because 
 our friends deemed it unsafe to linger even a 
 few hours near the spot where the outrage had 
 been committed, that they subjected me to the 
 inconvenience of this night journey at all. With 
 the return of day, however, my strength so far 
 came back, that I could look down with extreme 
 admiration on the glorious bay, — a portion of 
 the Adriatic, — at tbe head of which the town 
 of Fiume is built. But why describe a scene 
 
 MR. SMFIH AND FAMILY. 
 
 407 
 
 with which almost all travellers through Italy 
 and Germany are familiar? Enough is done, 
 when I state that we reached our inn about five 
 in the morning, that I went immediately to bed, 
 and that my brave boy, having had his bruises 
 washed and fomented, was not slow in following 
 my example. 
 
 We considered ourselves fortunate in having 
 obtained'a comfortable apartment in what seemed 
 to be a very tolerable inn, but fortune was de- 
 termined to deal with us much more kindly. 
 I had not yet risen when Mr. Crofton Smith, 
 one of the leading merchants in Fiume, and 
 the proprietor of an extensive paper-manufac- 
 tory there, called upon me, and insisted that we 
 should remove, without loss of time, to his 
 house. For nearly a fortnight we became in 
 consequence his guests ; and the kindness both 
 of himself and of the other inmates of his family, 
 I shall never forget. His young and interest- 
 ing wife nursed me as if I had been her nearest 
 relative. His sister-in-law, Miss Slater, played 
 and sang to me as I grew convalescent ; and 
 many a delightful ^ail we had on the bosom of 
 the Adriatic, while as yet I was too much of an 
 invalid to bear the motion of a horse or a 
 carriage. It is in these situations, and under 
 such circumstances, that an acquaintance of a 
 
w 
 
 408 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 week or a fortnight's standing, ripens at once 
 into friendship, and I trust the day will never 
 arrive when of that kind pair and their lively 
 relative I shall cease to think as of friends that 
 are very dear to me. 
 
 Here, then, I lay aside the pen. It would 
 little interest the general reader to be told 
 how, in the bosom of this truly hospitable fa- 
 mily, our time was spent, or how the governor 
 and the rest of the leading inhabitants of the 
 place, vied with one another in their efforts to 
 prove how entirely they deplored the outrage 
 to which we . had been subjected. As little 
 would it be worth while to describe our future 
 progress to the caves of Adelsberg, through the 
 fair fields of Italy, and so back by the Tyrol 
 and Bavaria to Dresden. The design of this 
 work has been accomplished if some fresh light 
 shall have been thrown on the state of society 
 in Bohemia and Hungary, and seeing that for 
 all which goes beyond I am bound to apologize, 
 I will not add to the offence by saying one word 
 in reference to matters which, however inte- 
 resting in themselves, would, if alluded to here, 
 be altogether out of place. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 London: John W. Parkbb, Sr. Maktin's Lank. 
 
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