cups of Rhenish wine, seemed equally to circulate without restraint. We
were cheerful, even to loud mirth; and the smallness of the party, compared
with the size of the hall, caused the sounds of our voices to be
reverberated from every quarter. Meantime, the sun threw his radiant beams
through a window of noble dimensions, quite across the saloon--so as to
keep us in shadow, and illuminate the other parts of the room. Thus we were
cool, but the day without had begun to be sultry. Behind me, or rather
between the Abbot and myself, stood a grave, sedate, and inflexible-looking
attendant--of large, square dimensions--habited in a black gown, which
scarcely reached the skirts of his coat. He spake not; he moved not; save
when he saw my glass emptied, which without any previous notice or
permission, he made a scrupulous point of filling ... even to the very
brim!... with the most highly flavoured Rhenish wine which I had yet tasted
in Germany. Our glasses being of the most capacious dimensions, it behoved
me to cast an attentive eye upon this replenishing process; and I told the
worthy master of the table that we should be quickly revelling in our cups.
He assured me that the wine, although good, was weak; but begged that I
would consider myself at liberty to act as I pleased.
In due time, the cloth was cleared; and a dessert, consisting chiefly of
delicious peaches, succeeded. A new order of bottles was introduced; tall,
square, and capacious; which were said to contain wine of the same quality,
but of a more delicate flavour. It proved indeed to be most exquisite. The
past labours of the day, together with the growing heat, had given a relish
to every thing which I tasted; and, in the full flow of my spirits, I
proposed--a sentiment, which I trusted would be considered as perfectly
orthodox--"Long life, and happy times to the present members, and
increasing prosperity to, the monastery of Göttwic." It was received and
drank with enthusiasm. The Abbot then proceeded to give me an account of a
visit paid him by Lord Minto, some years ago, when the latter was
ambassador at Vienna; and he spoke of that nobleman's intelligent
conversation, and amiable manners, in a way which did him great credit.
"Come, Sir;" said he: "you shall not find me ungrateful. I propose drinking
prosperity and long life to every representative of the British nation who
is resident at Vienna. May the union between your country and ours become
indissoluble." I then requested that we might withdraw; as the hours were
flying away, and as we purposed sleeping within one stage of Vienna on that
same evening.
"Your wishes shall be mine," answered the Abbot. Whereupon he rose--with
all the company--and stepping some few paces backwards, placed his hands
across his breast upon the gold cross; half closed his eyes; and said
grace--briefly and softly; in a manner the most impressive which I had ever
witnessed. We then quickly left the noble room in which we had been
banquetting, and prepared to visit the church and what might be called the
state apartments, which we had not before seen. After the rooms at St.
Florian, there was not much particularly to admire in those of Göttwic:
except that they appeared to be better lighted, and most of them commanded
truly enchanting views of the Danube and of the surrounding country. In one
room, of smaller dimensions, ornamented chiefly in white and gold (if I
remember rightly) a _Collection of Prints_ was kept; but those which I saw
were not very remarkable for their antiquity, or for their beauty of
subject or of impression. The sun was now getting low, and we had a stage
of at least fourteen miles to accomplish ere we could think of retiring to
rest.
"Show us now, worthy Sir, your crypt and church; and then, with pain be it
pronounced, we must bid you farewell. Within little more than two hours,
darkness will have covered the earth." Such was my remark to the Abbot; who
replied: "Say not so: we cannot part with you yet. At any rate you must not
go without a testimony of the respect we entertain for the object of your
visit. Those who love books, will not object to increase their own stock by
a copy of our CHRONICON GOTWICENSE--commenced by one of my learned
predecessors, but alas! never completed. Come with me to my room, before we
descend to the church, and receive the work in question." Upon which, the
amiable Head of the monastery set off, at rather a hurried pace, with
myself by the side of him, along several corridors--towards his own
apartment, to present me with this Chronicle. I received it with every
demonstration of respect--and entreated the Abbot to inscribe a "_dono
dedit_" in the fly leaf, which would render it yet more valuable in my
estimation.[108] He cheerfully complied with this request. The courtesy,
the frankness, the downright heartiness of feeling with which all this was
done--together with the value of the present--rendered it one of the most
delightful moments of my existence. I instinctively caught the Abbot's arm,
pressed his hand with a cordial warmth between both of mine--and pausing
one little moment, exclaimed "_Dies hic omninò commemoratione dignus!_"
A sort of sympathetic shouting succeeded; for, by this time, the whole of
our party had reached the Abbot's rooms. I now requested, to be immediately
taken to the church; and within five minutes we were in the crypt. It
scarcely merits one word of description on the score of antiquity; and may
be, at the farthest, somewhere about three centuries old. The church is
small and quite unpretending, as a piece of architecture. On quitting the
church, and passing through the last court, or smaller quadrangle, we came
to the outer walls: and leaving them, we discerned--below--the horses,
carriage, and valet ... waiting to receive us. Our amiable Host and his
Benedictin brethren determined to walk a little way down the hill, to see
us fairly seated and ready to start. I entreated and remonstrated that this
might not be; but in vain. On reaching the carriage, we all shook hands
very cordially together, but certainly I pressed those of the Abbot more
earnestly than the rest. We then saluted by uncovering; and, stepping into
the carriage, I held aloft the first volume of the GÖTTWIC
CHRONICLE--exclaiming ... "_Valete, Domini eruditissimi: dies hic
commemoratione dignus_:" to which the Abbot replied, with peculiarly
emphatic sonorousness of voice, "_Vale: Deus te, omnesque tibi charissimos,
conservet_." They then stopped for a moment ... as the horses began to be
put in motion ... and retracing their steps up the hill, towards the outer
gate of the monastery, disappeared. I thought--but it might not be so--that
I discerned the Abbot, at the distance of some two hundred yards, yet
lingering alone--with his right arm raised, and shaking it as the last and
most affectionate token of farewell.
The evening was serene and mild; and the road, although a cross way, was
perfectly sound--winding through a country of fertility and picturesque
beauty. We saw few vineyards: but those which met our eyes showed the grape
to be in its full purple tint, if not beginning to ripen. I had resolved
upon stopping to sleep at _Sirghartskirchen_ within two stages of
Vienna--thus avoiding the post town of _Perschling_, which is situated in
the direct road to Vienna from _St. Pölten_--which latter place, as you may
remember, we had left in the morning. Before the darker shades of evening
began to prevail, we turned round to catch a farewell glance of the
hospitable monastery which we had left behind--and were lucky in viewing
it, (scarcely less than seven or eight miles in our rear) just as the
outline of its pinnacles could be discerned against a clear, and yet almost
brilliant, sky.
It was quite dark, and nearer upon eleven than ten o'clock, when we entered
the insignificant post town of _Sirghartskirchen_--where we stretched our
limbs rather than reposed; and after a hasty, but not very ill provided
breakfast, the next morning, we pushed on for _Burkersdorf_, the last post
town on that side of Vienna. It may be about nine English miles from
Burkersdorf to the capital; of which the greater part is rather agreeable
than otherwise. It was here, as in approaching Strasbourg, that I turned my
eyes in all directions to catch an early glimpse of the tower of St.
Stephen's Cathedral, but in vain. At length, to the right, we saw the
magnificent chateau of _Schönbrunn_.
The road now became flat and sandy, and the plains in the vicinity of the
capital destitute of trees. "Voilà la Cathedrale!" shouted the valet. It
was to the left, or rather a little in front: of a tapering, spire-like
form: but, seeing only a small portion of it--the lower part being
concealed by the intervening rising ground--I could form no judgment of its
height. We now neared the suburbs, which are very extensive, and swarming
with population. I learnt that they entirely surrounded the capital, in an
equal state of populousness. The barriers were now approached: and all the
fears, which my accidental travelling acquaintance at Augsbourg had put
into my head, began to revive and to take possession of me. But what has an
honest man to fear? "Search closely (observed I to the principal examining
officer) for I suspect that there is something contraband at the bottom of
the trunk. Do you forbid the importation of an old Greek manual of
devotion?"--said I, as I saw him about to lay his hand upon the precious
Aldine volume, of which such frequent mention has been already made. The
officer did not vouchsafe even to open the leaves--treating it,
questionless, with a most sovereign contempt; but crying, "bah!--vous
pouvez bien passer," he replaced the things which he had very slightly
discomposed, and added that he wished all contraband articles to consist of
similar materials. We parted with mutual smiles; but I thought there
lingered something like a feeling of reproach, in the last quiver or turn
of his lip, at my not having slipt two or three florins into his
hand--which was broad and brawny enough to have grasped threescore or a
hundred. "I will remember you on my return,"--exclaimed I, as the carriage
drove off. He gave me a most sceptical shake of the head, as he retreated
into his little tenement, like a mastiff into his kennel.
The whole of VIENNA, as it now seemed--with its cathedral, churches,
palaces, and ramparts--was before us. As we approached the chief entrance,
or gateway, I recognised the _Imperial Library_; although it was only a
back view of it. In truth, it appeared to be just as I remembered it in the
vignette-frontispiece of Denis's folio catalogue of the Latin Theological
MSS. contained in the same library. My memory proved to be faithful; for we
were assured that the building in view _was_ the library in question. It
was our intention to take up our quarters at the principal inn, called the
_Empress of Austria_; and, with this view, we drove up to the door of that
hotel: but a tall, full-dressed man, with a broad sash across his body, and
a silver-tipped staff in his right hand, marched pompously up to the door
of the carriage, took off his hat, and informed us with great solemnity
that "the hotel was entirely filled, and that his master could not have the
honour of entertaining us." On receiving this intelligence, we were
comforted by the assurance, on the part of the post-boy and valet, that the
second hotel, called the _Crown of Hungary_,--and situated in the
_Himelfort Gasse_, or _Heaven-gate Street_--was in every respect as
desirable as that which we were compelled to quit. Accordingly we alighted
at the door of the _Hungarische Krone_--equally marvelling, all the way
thither, at the enormous size of the houses, and at the narrowness of the
streets.
But it is time to terminate this epistle. Yet I must not fail informing
you, that every thing strikes me as approximating very much to my own
native country. The countenances, the dresses, the manners of the
inhabitants, are very nearly English. My apartments are gay as well as
comfortable. A green-morocco sofa, beneath a large and curiously cut
looking-glass--with chairs having velvet seats, and wainscot and ceiling
very elegantly painted and papered--all remind me that I am in a
respectable hotel. A strange sight occupied my attention the very first
morning after my arrival. As the day broke fully into my room--it might be
between five and six o'clock--I heard a great buzzing of voices in the
street. I rose, and looking out of window, saw, from one end of the street
to the other, a countless multitude of women--sitting, in measured ranks,
with pots of cream and butter before them. It was in fact the chief market
day for fruit, cream, and butter; and the _Himelfort Gasse_ is the
principal mart for the sale of these articles. The weather has recently
become milder, and I feel therefore in better trim for the attack upon the
IMPERIAL LIBRARY, where I deliver my credentials, or introductory letters,
to-morrow. God bless you.
[97] St. FLORIAN was a soldier and sufferer in the time of the Emperors
Diocletian and Maximinian. He perished in the tenth and last
persecution of the Christian Church by the Romans. The judge, who
condemned him to death, was Aquilinus. After being importuned to
renounce the Christian religion, and to embrace the Pagan creed, as
the only condition of his being rescued from an immediate and cruel
death, St. Florian firmly resisted all entreaties; and shewed a
calmness, and even joyfulness of spirits, in proportion to the stripes
inflicted upon him previous to execution. He was condemned to be
thrown into the river, from a bridge, with a stone fastened round his
neck. The soldiers at first hesitated about carrying the judgment of
Aquilinus into execution. A pause of an hour ensued: which was
employed by St. Florian in prayer and ejaculation! A furious young man
then rushed forward, and precipitated the martyr into the river:
"Fluvius autem suscipiens martyrem Christi, expavit, et elevatis undis
suis, in quodam eminentiori loco in saxo corpus ejus deposuit. Tunc
annuente favore divino, adveniens aquila, expansis alis suis in modum
crucis, eum protegebat." _Acta Sanctorum; Mens. Maii_, vol. i. p. 463.
St. Florian is a popular saint both in Bavaria and Austria. He is
usually represented in armour, pouring water from a bucket to
extinguish a house, or a city, in flames, which is represented below.
Raderus, in his _Bavaria Sacra_, vol. i. p. 8, is very particular
about this monastery, and gives a list of the pictures above noticed,
on the authority of Sebastianus ab Adelzhausen, the head of the
monastery at that time; namely in 1615. He also adorns his pages with
a copper cut of the martyr about to be precipitated into the river,
from the bank--with his hands tied behind him, without any stone about
his neck. But the painting, as well as the text of the Acta Sanctorum,
describes the precipitation as from a bridge. The form of the
Invocation to the Saint is, "O MARTYR and SAINT, FLORIAN, keep us, we
beseech thee, by night and by day, from all harm by FIRE, or from
other casualties of this life."
[98] "Nostris vero temporibus Reverendissimi Præpositi studio augustum sanc
templum raro marmore affatim emicans, paucisque inuidens assurexit."
This is the language of the _Germania Austriaca, seu Topographia
Omnium Germaniæ Provinciarum_, 1701, folio, p. 16: when speaking of
THE MONASTERY of ST. FLORIAN.
[99] See p. 78, ante.
[100] It may be only sufficient to carry it as far back as the twelfth
century. What precedes that period is, as usual, obscure and
unsatisfactory. The monastery was originally of the _Benedictin_
order; but it was changed to the _Augustine_ order by Engelbert.
After this latter, Altman reformed and put it upon a most respectable
footing--in 1080. He was, however, a severe disciplinarian. Perhaps
the crypt mentioned by M. Klein might be of the latter end of the
XIIth century; but no visible portion of the superincumbent building
can be older than the XVIth century.
[101] The history of this monastery is sufficiently fertile in marvellous
events; but my business is to be equally brief and sober in the
account of it. In the _Scriptores Rerum Austriacarum_ of
_Pez_, vol. i. col. 162-309, there is a chronicle of the
monastery, from the year of its foundation to 1564, begun to be
written by an anonymous author in 1132, and continued to the latter
period by other coeval writers--all monks of the monastery. It is
printed by Pez for the first time--and he calls it "an ancient and
genuine chronicle." The word Mölk, or Mölck,--or, as it appears in the
first map in the _Germania Austriaca, seu Topographia Omnium
Germaniæ Provinciarum_, 1701, fol. Melck--was formerly written
"Medilicense, Medlicense, Medlicum, Medlich, and Medelick, or
Mellicense." This anonymous chronicle, which concludes at col. 290, is
followed by "a short chtonicle of Conrad de Wizenberg," and "an
anonymous history of the Foundation of the Monastery," compared with
six other MSS. of the same kind in the library at Mölk. The whole is
concluded by "an ancient Necrology of the Monastery," commenced in the
XIIth century, from a vellum MS. of the same date.
In the _Monasteriologia of Stengelius_, we have a list of the
Heads or Primates of Mölk, beginning with Sigiboldus, in 1089, (who
was the first that succeeded Leopold, the founder) down to Valentinus,
in 1638; who was living when the author published his work. There is
also a copper-plate print of a bird's eye view of the monastery, in
its ancient state, previously to the restoration of it, in its
present form, by DIETMAYR.
[102] [The late Duke.]
[103] I do not however find it in the Notitia Literaria prefixed to the
edition of Horace, published by Mitscherlich in 1800: see vol. i. p.
xxvi. where he notices the MSS. of the poet which are deposited in the
libraries of Germany.
[104] It was not till my arrival at Manheim, on my return to Paris, that I
received the "definitive reply" of the worthy Sub-Principal--which was
after the following manner. "Monsieur--La lettre du 21 Septembre, que
vous m'avez faite l'honneur de m'écrire, je ne l'ai reçue que depuis
peu, c'est-à-dire, depuis le retour de mon voyage. Les scrupules que
vous faites touchant l'échange des livres, ont été levés par vous-même
dans l'instant que vous en avez faites la proposition. Mais,
malheureusement, la lettre qui devait apporter la confirmation du
Prélat, n'a apportée que la triste nouvelle de sa mort. Vous sentez
bien, que dès ce moment il ne sauroit plus être question de rien. Je
ne doute pas, que quoique aucun livre ancien ne soit jusqu'à ce moment
sorti de la Bibliothèque du Couvent, le Prélat n'eut fait une
exception honorable en égard a l'illustre personnage auquel ces livres
ont été destines et à la collection unique d'un art, a fait naitre
toutes les bibliothèques, &c. J'ai l'honneur, &c. votre trés humble et
très obeisant serviteur,"
[Autograph]
[105] In an octavo volume published by a Dr. Cadet, who was a surgeon in
Bonaparte's army in the campaign in Austria, in 1809, and who entitles
his work--_Voyage en Autriche, en Moravie, et en
Bavière_--published at Paris in 1818--we are favoured with a slight
but spirited account of the monastery of Mölk--of the magnificence of
its structure, and of the views seen from thence: but, above all, of
the PRODUCE OF ITS CELLARS. The French Generals were lodged there, in
their route to Vienna; and the Doctor, after telling us of the extent
of the vaults, and that a carriage might be turned with ease in some
of them, adds, "in order to have an idea of the abundance which reigns
there, it may be sufficient only to observe, that, for four successive
days, during the march of our troops through Mölk, towards Vienna,
there were delivered to them not less than from 50 to 60,000 pints of
wine per day--and yet scarcely one half of the stock was exhausted!
The monastery, however, only contains twelve Réligieux. The interior
of the church is covered with such a profusion of gilt and rich
ornaments, that when the sun shines full upon it, it is difficult to
view it without being dazzled." Page 79.
The old monastery of Mölk successfully stood a siege of three months,
against the Hungarians, in the year 1619. See _Germ. Austriaca_,
&c. p. 18.
[106] [The Abbé Strattman SURVIVED the above interview only about _five
years_. I hope and trust that the worthy Vice Principal is as well
NOW, as he was about three years ago, when my excellent friend Mr.
Lodge, the Librarian of the University of Cambridge, read to him an
off-hand German version of the whole of this account of my visit to
his Monastery.]
[107] This history has come down to us from well authenticated materials;
however, in the course of its transmission, it may have been partially
coloured with fables and absurdities. The Founder of the Monastery was
ALTMANN, Bishop of Passau; who died in the year 1091, about twenty
years after the foundation of the building. The two ancient
biographies of the Founder, each by a Monk or Principal of the
monastery, are introduced into the collection of Austrian historians
by _Pez_; vol. i. col. 112-162. Stengelius has a bird's eye view
of the monastery as it appeared in 1638, and before the principal
suite of apartments was built. But it is yet in an unfinished state;
as the view of it from the copper-plate engraving, at page 248 ante,
represents it with the _intended_ additions and improvements.
These latter, in all probability, will never be carried into effect.
This monastery enjoyed, of old, great privileges and revenues. It had
twenty-two parish churches--four towns--several villages, &c. subject
to its ecclesiastical jurisdiction; and these parishes, together with
the monastery itself, were not under the visitation of the Diocesan
(of Passau) but of the Pope himself. Stengelius
(_Monasteriologia_, sign. C) speaks of the magnificent views seen
from the summit of the monastery, on a clear day; observing, however,
(even in his time) that it was without springs or wells, and that it
received the rain water in leaden cisterns. "Cæterùm (adds he)
am[oen]issimum et plané aspectu jucundissimum habet situm." Towards the
middle of the seventeenth century, this monastery appears to have
taken the noble form under which it is at present beheld. It has not
however escaped from more than _one_ severe visitation by the
Turks.
[108] On my arrival in England, I was of course equally anxious and happy
to place the CHRONICON GÖTWICENSE in the library at Althorp. But I
have not, in the text above, done full justice to the liberality of
the present Abbot of the monastery. He gave me, in addition, a
copy--of perhaps a still scarcer work--entitled "_Notitia Austriæ
Antiquæ et Mediæ seu tam Norici Veteris quam Pagi et Marchæ_, &c." by
MAGNUS KLEIN, Abbot of the monastery, and of which the first volume
only was published "typis Monasterii Tegernseensis," in 1781, 4to.
This appears to be a very learned and curious work. And here ... let
me be allowed for the sake of all lovers of autographs of good and
great men--to close this note with a fac-simile of the hand writing
(in the "dono dedit"--as above mentioned) of the amiable and erudite
donor of these acceptable volumes. It is faithfully thus:--the
_original_ scription will only, I trust, perish with the book:
[Autograph]
LETTER X.
IMPERIAL LIBRARY. ILLUMINATED MANUSCRIPTS
AND EARLY PRINTED BOOKS.
VIENNA; _Hotel of the Crown of Hungary, Sept. 9, 1818_.
It gave me the sincerest pleasure, my dear friend, to receive your
letter... only a very few hours after the transmission of my last. At such
a distance from those we love and esteem, you can readily imagine the sort
of _comfort_ which such communications impart. I was indeed rejoiced to
hear of the health and welfare of your family, and of that of our friend *
*, who is indeed not only a thorough-bred _Rorburgher_, but a truly
excellent and amiable man. The account of the last anniversary-meeting of
the Club has, however, been a little painful to me; inasmuch as it proves
that a sort of _heresy_ has crept into the Society--which your
Vice-President, on his return, will labour as effectually as he can to
eradicate.[109]