thousand pictures. There were Raphael, Holbein, Correggio, Titian,
Carlo Dolce, Paul Veronese, Rubens, Rembrandt, Vandyke, Guido,
Ruysdael, Wouvermans, Claude, Poussin, and I do not know who else;
but I would give them all, and more besides, for the portraits of
Charlemagne and Sigismund by Dürer, and the historical painting of
the peace of Westphalia, with its forty-seven original portraits by
Sandrart. I do really think that I have seen a million of paintings,
and have come to the sad conclusion that I have precious little love
for pictures,--for paintings.
The magnificent frescos I admire as much as any one. But the thousands
of Madonnas,--Raphael's "Madonna di San Sisto," which cost forty
thousand dollars, I like better than any I have yet seen, next to
that old painting of Leonardo da Vinci in the old church not far
from Milan,--all the Madonnas have pretty eyes, pretty faces, pretty
attitudes; but they do not come up to my idea of the Virgin. Then there
are so many nude Venuses, and all sorts of nudities, that the artists
who painted them ought to have been condemned to go without clothes,
even in cold weather, to see how they would like it; and when they died
they should have every bone in the human body carved as ornaments on
their tombstone as I saw somewhere in my travels. The heads of the old
men are exceedingly fine and natural; but many of the portraits have
such affected attitudes that they seem ridiculous to me. I suppose
it used to be the fashion to _take an attitude_ when they sat for a
portrait.
Mrs. Siddons's portrait, in London, and one of Mary Queen of Scots and
her page, were the most beautiful and faultless to my taste of all I
saw in England.
Murillo's beggar boys and girls did not know enough to assume an
attitude; and of course they please, because they are natural.
Did you ever see persons sit where they could see themselves in a
mirror, conversing, and still looking at themselves with a sort of
half consciousness they were doing so, and thinking that you were not
noticing that they did so? I say, did you ever notice what a ridiculous
and puzzled expression it gives to their faces? Well, this is just the
expression of the greater part of these so celebrated portraits and
paintings. It is appalling to think of,--I mean my want of taste,--but
I do like to see pictures look natural. "How will madame have potatoes,
sauté or grillé, or au naturel?" The word _naturel_ sounds so
charmingly after all I have seen, that I reply joyously, "Au naturel;"
and he brought me boiled potatoes,--just what I liked. I forgot to
mention that we went again to the opera in Munich, in the small theatre
in the king's palace. The opera was "Alessandra Stradella," by Flotow.
I never heard sweeter music; and Nachbaur, who took the part of
Stradella, was not only a magnificent tenor, but a perfect Adonis in
person. He would meet with success in New York.
Yesterday we went to the royal palace, a very ancient and
ungainly-looking building. Our object was to visit the green rooms,
or vaults, which contain all kinds of rare objects-jewels, ivory,
bronzes, and costly things,--which I suppose were intended to
show the magnificence of the Saxon kings, who once were among the
richest sovereigns in Europe. There are eight of these rooms on the
ground-floor of the palace. I wish you could have been with us to
have seen all the curiosities, and to have heard the custodian, who
spoke English, tell us all about what he showed us. It is impossible
to remember a tenth part of what one sees, so I was glad when the
custodian said, as he entered the first room, which contains the
bronzes, "Laties, here is more as a huntred fine bronzes; the best fon
Italy, I show you ze masterpieces. Zis is Antinous; here is Apollo;
dis leetle dog is curious; is of hammered iron, not cast hammered.
'Tis by Peter Vischer. You see he scratch himself,--very funny, very
curious. Zis crucifix made by John of Bologna,--a masterpiece." I kept
close to him to ask him more particularly about many things. The next
room was the ivory room. I wish you could have heard him pronounce "my
lady" in three or four different ways. There were four hundred and
eighty-four pieces of ivory wonderfully carved. "Here, melaty, one
little piece. Two drunken musicians fighting. Made by Dinglinger." "Who
was Dinglinger?" I asked. "He was yeweller of te court, melaty." After
seeing all in the room, he said, "Zis way, laties, if you please, one
leetle step down. Here are ze mosaics. Zis table Florentine mosaic;
best of ze tables." There were large life sized portraits on each side
of the windows. I asked, "Whose portrait is this?" "Christian II.,
melaty. He always drink sixteen pottles of wine in one day,--sixteen
pottles, melaty." I was much pleased with a magnificent chimney-piece,
made of the different kinds of china manufactured here, and ornamented
with the various kinds of stone found in Saxony. In the fourth room I
noticed a peculiar clock, made in the form of the tower of Babel. One
gold chalice, ornamented with precious gems, made by Benvenuto Cellini,
attracted my attention. I asked about another portrait. "Augusta
ze Strong, melaty. He took a horseshoe in his hand and broke it in
two. Very strong, melaty, very strong." I had heard the story of his
stopping at a shop to have a shoe put on his horse. Selecting a shoe,
he took it in his hand, and breaking it, said it was not strong enough.
The smith, after shoeing his horse, asked for a dollar. Augustus threw
down a silver dollar. The smith took it up, and rolling it over in his
fingers in the form of a cigar, asked if the dollar was a good one.
A little farther, the custodian took up a golden egg. "Here, laties, is
one golden egg. I will open it, and you will see it contains a golden
chicken. I will open ze chicken; it has in it ze Polish crown. I will
open ze crown, and show you one fine ring. All zese rings are for show,
for curiosity, for playthings." The next room contained the largest
pearls; one represents the body of a court dwarf, and is as large as a
hen's egg. In the seventh room we were shown the regalia used at the
coronation of Augustus Second as king of Poland, and then brought here
to be kept for the coronation of Saxon princes who might at some future
time be crowned at Cracow. There, too, were the swords of John Sobieski
and Solyman II., of Turkey. The hilts of these swords seemed one mass
of diamonds. The shoulder-knot of the queens of Poland containing six
hundred and sixty-two diamonds! Then the diamond buttons, rubies,
emeralds, sapphires, and other precious stones were as wonderful on
account of their abundance as they were for their great beauty. I could
only think of Sinbad the sailor, of Aladdin and his wonderful lamp, and
all the fairy-tales of diamonds and gems I had read in my life. In the
last there were emeralds one and a half inches large, and a model of
the throne and court of the great Mogul Aurengzebe, at which Dinglinger
and eighteen men worked eight years, and were paid fifty-nine thousand
thalers! A costly plaything. All the Saxon crown jewels, collected from
the time of the Elector Maurice, 1541, were one blaze of light and
beauty. Boxes are always ready for packing them, particularly in time
of war, when they are taken to the fortress of Königstein.
We have been over the bridge to the Japanese palace to see the
collections of porcelain from the earliest times until now. The
Portuguese were the first to bring porcelain to Europe from China
and Japan, and Saxony was the first European country in which its
manufacture was begun. Von Tzschirnhausen was making experiments in his
three glass huts when, in 1701, he was joined by John Frederic Böttger,
an alchemist, who said he had succeeded in finding the philosopher's
stone, and who, in the presence of witnesses, melted eighteen two
groschen pieces, sprinkled into the liquid mass a reddish powder, and
changed them into the finest gold. However that may have been, he
found a species of earth in the neighborhood of Meissen which suited
his purposes, and began the manufacture of porcelain, which at the
present day is carried on there in a large establishment called the
royal porcelain manufactory of Dresden china. Meissen is not far from
Dresden, but I am afraid we shall not have time to go there.
But to return to the Japanese palace. There were costly selections of
Chinese, Japanese, East Indian, Dresden, and Sèvres porcelain. It is
really astonishing to see what improvement was made in Dresden china
in twenty years, and then from those twenty years until the present
time. There are twenty rooms in the basement of this building which are
filled with these collections. I only wish they had put them in the
story above, where ever so much old statuary is placed, for then they
could be seen to so much better advantage, and the statuary be kept in
the shade, where, in my opinion, a good lot of it should always be.
Kändler's model of a huge monument to Augustus (III. of Poland and II.
of Saxony) is entirely of porcelain, and cost twelve thousand thalers.
A camellia, thirty-eight inches high, modelled by Schiefer, in Meissen,
in 1836, is most beautiful. We were shown plates which cost three or
four hundred dollars apiece. The bust of the queen of Prussia, given by
her husband, Frederic William III., to this collection, is exquisite.
A white lace veil was carelessly thrown over the head. I looked at it,
and thought it strange that a lace veil should be thrown over a bust
of china, and spoke to the guide about it. He said the veil was china
too. I examined it closely; the work on the border was perfect, and
you could see the head and neck through the veil as plainly as if it
had been real lace. The Sèvres china given by the first Napoleon was
the handsomest of any we saw. Some majolica vases were very fine, and
cost about ten thousand dollars each. There were Chinese gods, made in
China, of the most beautiful porcelain, but as hideous in form as they
were beautiful in material.
We went to the armory, said to be the finest collection of the
kind in Europe. In the first room we were shown many curiosities:
the work-table of "Mother Anna," made of petrified wood, which
the attendant wished me to notice particularly, because it was a
_petrifactation_.
Then there was a clock with a bear striking the seconds on a drum;
another clock imitated a chime of bells; Luther's drinking-cup, made
of gold, and holding about a pint; and a beautiful cabinet presented
to him by his friend and protector, the Elector of Saxony, and which,
after his death, was sold to the government by his family. The next
room was filled with implements of sports and the chase, all very
curious.
On we went, from room to room, looking at the suits of armor which
had been worn by the electors of Saxony,--their tilting suits, their
parade suits; the horses they rode on parade, stuffed and equipped; and
their masters' suits put on figures to represent those distinguished
personages; so you could fancy yourself walking among them, and seeing
them as they looked when living. Nothing could exceed the splendor
of the horses' accoutrements,--precious stones almost covered their
harness; the scabbards of one or two swords were set with jewels and
diamonds their whole length; in those times jewels and diamonds were
as plentiful as blackberries. The housing of one of the kings, when he
went sleigh-riding, was crimson velvet embroidered with gold, and two
or three hundred little bells that looked like gold fastened on all
over it. There were the cuirass of Augustus the Strong, which weighed
one hundred pounds, and his cap, that weighed twenty-five. Napoleon's
saddle, and many other saddles, had jewels set in them that many a lady
would be proud to wear.
One great curiosity was a Turkish tent, taken at the siege of Vienna,
in 1683. It was set up in one room with all its furniture. The
ground-work was crimson embroidered with gold. I should think it was
large enough to accommodate twenty persons. There were also the armor
worn by John Sobieski at the same siege, and the pistols worn by
Charles XII. of Sweden on the day of his death. Some of the tilting
suits worn at tournaments weighed two hundred pounds.
I never saw anything like these Germans for curious and strange things.
One of the curious and costly toys I saw when we went to the green
rooms was a bird's nest, flowers, etc., made of flour and water. I do
not know whether I told you of a painting on cobweb which we saw in the
museum at Munich. There were four or five panes of glass nearly covered
with cobwebs, which had a landscape painted on them. In some things
I do not admire the taste: two large porcelain pitchers, that would
hold two gallons, and cost thousands of dollars, had handles made to
represent large spotted adders, or snakes.
If I did not understand German I would not know half the time what they
meant when they are trying to talk to me in English. Showing me some
china cups that were first made with handles, the man said, "You see,
zese are ze first made wiz hankles." Speaking of something being most
convenient, he said, the "commodest."
I have said nothing of the statues in the public places: the monument
to the Elector Maurice, the oldest one in Dresden, representing Maurice
handing the electoral sword to his brother "Father August," and just
behind him their wives in widows' weeds.
The equestrian statue of Augustus the Strong, made of brass, and
placed on a pedestal of sandstone, looks very spirited. The statue
of Frederick Augustus II. in his coronation robes is very fine;
besides others which I have not time to describe. The Roman Catholic
church which we see from our windows, built in the Italian style, and
profusely decorated, is said to have cost two million thalers.
Seen through the fog in the early morning, its fifty-nine statues of
saints and apostles looked like ghosts, or like some pictures of the
last judgment.
The green copper roofs of this church and of the government buildings
give Dresden a look peculiar to itself. There are two triumphant
fly-away statues on the grand bridge over the Elbe which exhilarate me
every time I see them.
Brühl's Terrace is a very delightful promenade, and an ornament to the
city. I was asked if I had seen the statuary at the "flurs" (flight of
stairs) of this terrace. One group represents Evening, the other Night;
they are very good. The sculptor Schilling is to make two more--Morning
and Noon--for the flight on the other side.
On Friday we went to the palace and saw a great quantity of porcelain,
some fine frescos in the throne room, particularly four large pictures
from the history of Henry the Fowler. The ball-room is painted with
subjects from mythology, mostly. I expected to find the palace more
imposing than it was,--perhaps from seeing so many millions invested in
jewels in the green rooms....
On Monday we went to Potsdam, about an hour's ride on the cars. Potsdam
is the Prussian Versailles. It was founded by the Great Elector of
Brandenburg, but owes all its splendor to Frederick the Great. We
first visited the New Palace, which Frederick the Great built, just
to show the world that his wars had not exhausted all his finances.
He had an eye for bright things,--the rooms were brilliant with gold
and silver, and bright-colored satin, and brocade and damask curtains.
They showed us in the folds of the curtains, where the light had not
faded them, how bright and beautiful they must have been when new. They
also showed us the rooms in which his dogs were allowed to enter; the
coverings of the sofas and chairs were terribly torn by them. One large
room in this palace was entirely covered with pearl-oyster and various
other kinds of shells, different marbles and stones,--all put together
to represent dolphins and fishes. The floor was of Italian marble,
and overhead were fresco-paintings. It was a very large room, having
windows on one side, and on the opposite side mirrors, reflecting the
beautiful grounds outside, making a very striking and fine effect.
In the library we saw the caricature of Voltaire, made by Frederick
the Great,--it is a pen-and-ink sketch. We also saw the hat, boots,
gloves, etc., which were last worn by him. We were shown places on
his writing-desk and tables where bits of the cloth were cut out and
carried away by Napoleon. A small room, in which he used to dine with
a friend or two, was so constructed that the table and food could be
raised from the room beneath; thus waiters could be dispensed with,
and he could converse with his friends confidentially. We went into
the garrison church where Frederick the Great is buried behind the
pulpit, in a plain metal sarcophagus above-ground. The sword that used
to lie upon it was carried off by Napoleon, and no one knows what has
become of it, but over the tomb, on each side of the pulpit, hang the
eagles and standards taken from Napoleon's armies by the Prussians.
His father's tomb is of marble and stands opposite his. We then rode
on to the palace of Sans Souci, built by Frederick the Great. It seems
to stand upon the top of a flight of terraces. The grounds were laid
out in French taste, when it was the fashion to have everything stiff
and formal. We saw some fine paintings and statuary, walked through the
orangery, and then through the grounds, passed the historical windmill
which Frederick the Great wanted to buy, but the miller would not sell.
Frederick sued him and lost his case. Afterwards, when the family of
the miller became poor, they offered it to the king, who bought it,
but would not have it pulled down, preferring to have it stand as a
monument of Prussian justice.
The carriage was waiting for us at the gate, and then, crossing the
river Havel, we rode on to Babelsburg, where Emperor William lived
before he was king. This is decidedly the prettiest residence that
I have seen since I left home, and although the palace is large it
has such a homelike look, and is so cheerful throughout, I should
think the Emperor would like to spend as much time there as possible.
The girl who showed us through the palace gave an envelope from the
Emperor's writing-desk to one of our party, who gave it to me to put
among my relics. Humboldt's study is kept just as he left it. I think
I could study in that room. The night-lamp was so constructed as to
appear like stars when lighted. In the drawing-room there were some
beautifully-embroidered chairs, presented to the Empress by the court
ladies. They were of dark-blue velvet, with heads of wheat embroidered
in gold. In the apartments of the crown princess I saw the carpet
presented her on her marriage by the English ladies. The attendant
lifted the cloth that covered it, and it still looked as good as new.
We were particularly shown an English bed, because it was a double
bed, and it did seem quite a curiosity, for it was the only one we had
seen on the continent. The whole palace was cheerful throughout, and
had the appearance of the highest taste and refinement. The paintings
and statues are exquisitely beautiful. The grounds are handsome, and
the landscape quite American. The courier asked the attendant who took
us through the palace whether she kept the money that was given her
for herself. Oh, no! she had to give it to the steward. I suppose,
however, that if no fee was required the palace would be overrun with
visitors. We had to hurry to get back to Potsdam in time for the cars,
and reached Berlin about dark, pretty well tired out, and did not rise
until late the next morning.
THE STUDENTS OF HEIDELBERG.
BAYARD TAYLOR.
[Taylor's earliest and notable work of travel, "Views Afoot,"
describing his experiences while traversing Europe with a light
purse and a sturdy heart, is full of quotable passages, of two
of which we have availed ourselves. The following is devoted to
the well-worn story of the German student, with his extraordinary
capacity for beer and his insensate taste for duels. We cannot
well get through Europe without some account of these striking
incidents of student-life, which our author very well describes.]
Receiving a letter from my cousin one bright December morning, the idea
of visiting him struck me, and so, within an hour, B---- and I were on
our way to Heidelberg. It was delightful weather; the air was mild as
the early days of spring, the pine-forests around wore a softer green,
and though the sun was but a hand's breadth high, even at noon, it was
quite warm on the open road.
We stopped for the night at Bensheim; the next morning was as dark as
a cloudy day in the north can be, wearing a heavy gloom I never saw
elsewhere. The wind blew the snow down from the summits upon us, but,
being warm from walking, we did not heed it. The mountains looked
higher than in summer, and the old castles more grim and frowning. From
the hard roads and freezing wind my feet became very sore, and after
limping along in excruciating pain for a league or two, I filled my
boots with brandy, which deadened the wounds so much that I was enabled
to go on in a kind of trot, which I kept up, only stopping ten minutes
to dinner, till we reached Heidelberg.
The same evening there was to be a general commers, or meeting of the
societies among the students, and I determined not to omit one of the
most interesting and characteristic features of student life. So,
borrowing a cap and coat, I looked the student well enough to pass for
one of them, though the former article was somewhat of the Philister
form. Baader, a young poet of some note, and president of the "Palatea"
society, having promised to take us there, we met at eight o'clock at
an inn frequented by the students, and went to the rendezvous, near the
Markt Platz.
A confused sound of voices came from the inn, as we drew near; groups
of students were standing around the door. In the entry we saw the Red
Fisherman, one of the most conspicuous characters about the University.
He is a small, stout man, with bare neck and breast, red hair, whence
his name, and a strange mixture of roughness and benevolence in his
countenance. He had saved many persons, at the risk of his own life,
from drowning in the Neckar, and on that account is leniently dealt
with by the faculty whenever he is arrested for assisting the students
in any of their unlawful proceedings. Entering the room, I could
scarcely see at first, on account of the smoke that ascended from a
hundred pipes. All was noise and confusion. Near the door sat some
half-dozen musicians, who were getting their instruments ready for
action; and the long room was filled with tables, all of which seemed
to be full, and the students were still pressing in. The tables were
covered with great stone jugs and long beer-glasses; the students were
talking and shouting and drinking.
One, who appeared to have the arrangement of the meeting, found seats
for us together, and, having made a slight acquaintance with those
sitting next us, we felt more at liberty to witness their proceedings.
They were all talking in a sociable, friendly way, and I saw no one
who appeared to be intoxicated. The beer was a weak mixture, which
I should think would make one fall over from its _weight_ before it
would intoxicate him. Those sitting near me drank but little, and that
principally to make or return compliments. One or two at the other
end of the table were more boisterous, and more than one glass was
overturned on the legs below it. Leaves containing the songs for the
evening lay at each seat; and at the head, where the president sat,
were two swords crossed, with which he occasionally struck upon the
table to preserve order. Our president was a fine, romantic-looking
young man, dressed in the old German costume, which is far handsomer
than the modern. I never saw in any company of young men so many
handsome, manly countenances. If their faces were any index of their
characters, there were many noble, free souls among them.
[Illustration: THE TOWN AND CASTLE OF HEIDELBERG]