witness a miracle. Every thing they do is in consonance with a well-devised
and well-executed plot. The whole is in harmony. They perform characters of
different classes; sometimes allegorical, as præternatural
beings--sometimes real, as rustics at one moment, and courtiers at
another--but whether as fairies, or attendants upon goddesses--and whether
the dance be formal or frolicksome--whether in groups of many, or in a pas
de deux, or pas seul--they perform with surprising accuracy and effect. The
principal performer, who had really been the little match girl above
described, and who might have just turned her sixteenth year--would not
have disgraced the boards of the Paris opera--at a moment, even, when
Albert and Bigotini were engaged upon them. I never witnessed any thing
more brilliant and more perfect than she was in all her evolutions and
pirouettes. Nor are the lads behind hand in mettle and vigorous movement.
One boy, about fourteen, almost divided the plaudits of the house with the
fair nymph just mentioned--who, during the evening, had equally shone as a
goddess, a queen, a fairy, and a columbine. The emperor of Austria, who is
an excellent good man--and has really the moral welfare of his people at
heart--was at first a little fearful about the _effect_ of this early
metamorphosis of his subjects into actors and actresses; but he learnt,
upon careful enquiry, that these children, when placed out in the world--as
they generally are before seventeen, unless they absolutely prefer the
profession in which they have been engaged--generally turn out to be worthy
and good members of society. Their salaries are fixed and moderate, and
thus superfluous wealth does not lead them into temptation.
On the conclusion of the preceding piece, the stage was entirely filled by
the whole juvenile _Corps Dramatique_--perhaps amounting to about one
hundred and twenty in number. They were divided into classes, according to
size, dress, and talent. After a succession of rapid evolutions, the whole
group moved gently to the sound of soft music, while masses of purple
tinted clouds descended, and alighted about them. Some were received into
the clouds--which were then lifted up--and displayed groups of the smallest
children upon their very summits, united by wreaths of roses; while the
larger children remained below. The entire front of the stage, up to the
very top, was occupied by the most extraordinary and most imposing sight I
ever beheld--and as the clouds carried the whole of the children upwards,
the curtain fell, and the piece concluded. On its conclusion, the audience
were in a perfect frenzy of applause, and demanded the author to come
forward and receive the meed of their admiration. He quickly obeyed their
summons--and I was surprised, when I saw him, at the youthfulness of his
appearance, the homeliness of his dress, and the simplicity of his manners.
He thrice bowed to the audience, laying his hand the same number of times
upon his heart. I am quite sure that, if he were to come to London, and
institute the same kind of exhibition, he would entirely fill Drury Lane or
Covent Garden--as I saw the _Schauspielhause_ filled--with parents and
children from top to bottom.
But a truce to _in-door_ recreations. You are longing, no doubt, to scent
the evening breeze along the banks of the PRATER, or among the towering
elms of the AUGARTEN--both public places of amusement within about a league
of the ramparts of the city. It was the other Sunday evening when I visited
the Prater, and when--as the weather happened to be very fine--it was
considered to be full: but the absence of the court, and of the noblesse,
necessarily gave a less joyous and splendid aspect to the carriages and
their attendant liveries. In your way to this famous place of sabbath
evening promenade, you pass a celebrated coffee house, in the suburbs,
called the _Leopoldstadt_, which goes by the name of the _Greek
coffee-house_--on account of its being almost entirely frequented by
Greeks--so numerous at Vienna. Do not pass it, if you should ever come
hither, without entering it--at least _once_. You would fancy yourself to
be in Greece: so thoroughly characteristic are the countenances, dresses,
and language of every one within.
[Illustration: THE PRATER, VIENNA.]
But yonder commences the procession ... of horse and foot: of cabriolets,
family coaches, german waggons, cars, phaetons, and landaulets ... all
moving in a measured manner, within their prescribed ranks, towards the
PRATER. We must accompany them without loss of time. You now reach the
Prater. It is an extensive flat, surrounded by branches of the Danube, and
planted on each side with double rows of horse chesnut trees. The drive, in
one straight line, is probably a league in length. It is divided by two
roads, in one of which the company move _onward_, and in the other they
_return_. Consequently, if you happen to find a hillock only a few feet
high, you may, from thence, obtain a pretty good view of the interminable
procession of the carriages before mentioned: one current of them, as it
were, moving forward, and another rolling backward. But, hark!--the notes
of a harp are heard to the left ... in a meadow, where the foot passengers
often digress from the more formal tree-lined promenade. A press of ladies
and gentlemen is quickly seen. You mingle involuntarily with them: and,
looking forward, you observe a small stage erected, upon which a harper
sits and two singers stand. The company now lie down upon the grass, or
break into standing groups, or sit upon chairs hired for the occasion--to
listen to the notes so boldly and so feelingly executed.[147] The clapping
of hands, and exclamations of bravo! succeed: and the sounds of applause,
however warmly bestowed, quickly die away in the open air. The performers
bow: receive a few kreutschers ... retire; and are well satisfied.
The sound of the trumpet is now heard behind you. Tilting feats are about
to be performed: the coursers snort and are put in motion: their hides are
bathed in sweat beneath their ponderous housings; and the blood, which
flows freely from the pricks of their riders' spurs, shews you with what
earnestness the whole affair is conducted. There, the ring is thrice
carried off at the point of the lance. Feats of horsemanship follow in a
covered building, to the right; and the juggler, conjurer, or magician,
displays his dexterous feats, or exercises his potent spells ... in a
little amphitheatre of trees, at a distance beyond. Here and there rise
more stately edifices, as theatres ... from the doors of which a throng of
heated spectators is pouring out, after having indulged their grief or joy
at the Mary Stuart of Schiller, or the----of----.. In other directions,
booths, stalls, and tables are fixed; where the hungry eat, the thirsty
drink, and the merry-hearted indulge in potent libations. The waiters are
in a constant state of locomotion. Rhenish wine sparkles here;
confectionary glitters there; and fruit looks bright and tempting in a
third place. No guest turns round to eye the company; because he is intent
upon the luxuries which invite his immediate attention--or he is in close
conversation with an intimate friend, or a beloved female. They talk and
laugh,--and the present seems to be the happiest moment of their lives.
All is gaiety and good humour. You return again to the foot-promenade, and
look sharply about you, as you move onward, to catch the spark of beauty,
or admire the costume of taste, or confess the power of expression. It is
an Albanian female who walks yonder ... wondering, and asking questions, at
every thing she sees. The proud Jewess, supported by her husband and
father, moves in another direction. She is covered with brocade and
flaunting ribbands; but she is abstracted from every thing around her ...
because her eyes are cast downwards upon her stomacher, or sideways to
obtain a glimse of what may be called her spangled epaulettes. Her eye is
large and dark: her nose is aquiline: her complexion is of an olive brown:
her stature is majestic, her dress is gorgeous, her gait is measured--and
her demeanour is grave and composed. "She _must_ be very rich," you say--as
she passes on. "She is _prodigiously_ rich," replies the friend, to whom
you put the question:--for seven virgins, with nosegays of choicest
flowers, held up her bridal train; and the like number of youths, with
silver-hilted swords, and robes of ermine and satin, graced the same bridal
ceremony. Her father thinks he can never do enough for her; and her
husband, that he can never love her sufficiently.
Whether she be happy or not, in consequence, we have no time to stop to
enquire ... for, see yonder! three "turbaned Turks" make their advances.
How gaily, how magnificently they are attired! What finely proportioned
limbs--what beautifully formed features! They have been carousing,
peradventure, with some young Greeks--who have just saluted them, en
passant--at the famous coffee-house before-mentioned. Every thing around
you is novel and striking; while the verdure of the trees and lawns is yet
fresh, and the sun does not seem yet disposed to sink below the horizon.
The carriages still move on, and return, in measured procession. Those who
are within, look earnestly from the windows--to catch a glance of their
passing friends. The fair hand is waved here; the curiously-painted fan is
shaken there; and the repeated nod is seen in almost every other passing
landaulet. Not a heart seems sad; not a brow appears to be clouded with
care.
Such--or something like the foregoing--is the scene which usually passes on
a Sunday evening--perhaps six months out of the twelve--upon the famous
PRATER at Vienna; while the tolling bell of St. Stephen's tower, about nine
o'clock--and the groups of visitors hurrying back, to get home before the
gates of the city are shut against them--usually conclude the scene just
described.
And now, my good friend, methinks I have given you a pretty fair account of
the more prominent features of this city--in regard to its public sights;
whether as connected with still or active life: as churches, palaces, or
theatres. It remains, therefore, to return again, briefly, but yet
willingly, to the subject of BOOKS; or rather, to the notice of two
_Private Collections,_ especially deserving of description--and of which,
the first is that of the EMPEROR HIMSELF.
His Majesty's collection of Books and Prints is kept upon the second and
third floors of a portion of the building connected with the great Imperial
library. Mr. T. YOUNG is the librarian; and he also holds the honourable
office of being Secretary of his Majesty's privy council. He is well
deserving of both situations, for he fills them with ability and success.
He has the perfect appearance of an Englishman, both in figure and face. As
he speaks French readily and perfectly well, our interviews have been
frequent, and our conversations such as have led me to think that we shall
not easily forget each other. But for the library, of which he is the
guardian. It is contained in three or four rooms of moderate dimensions,
and has very much the appearance of an English Country Gentleman's
collection of about 10,000 volumes. The bindings are generally in good
taste: in full-gilt light and gray calf--with occasional folios and quartos
resplendent in morocco and gold. I hardly know when I have seen a more
cheerful and comfortable looking library; and was equally gratified to find
such a copious sprinkling of publications from Old England.
But my immediate, and indeed principal object, was, a list of a few of the
_Rarities_ of the Emperor's private collection, as well in ms. as in print.
Mr. Young placed before me much that was exquisite and interesting in the
former, and splendid and creditable in the latter, department. He begged of
me to judge with my own eyes, and determine for myself; and he would then
supply me with a list of what he considered to be most valuable and
splendid in the collection. Accordingly, what here ensues, must be
considered as the united descriptions of my guide and myself:--Mr. Young
having composed his memoranda in the Latin language. First, of the
MANUSCRIPTS. The _Gospels;_ a vellum folio:--with illuminated capitals, and
thirteen larger paintings, supposed to be of the thirteenth--but I suspect
rather of the fourteenth--century. A _Breviary ... "for the use of Charles
the Bold, Duke of Burgundy_" This vellum MS. is of the fifteenth century,
and was executed for the distinguished character to whom it is expressly
dedicated. This is really an elegant volume: written in the gothic
character of the period, and sprinkled with marginal and capital initial
decorations. Here are--as usual in works of this kind, executed for princes
and great men--divers illuminations of figures of saints, of which there
are three of larger size than the rest: and, of these three, one is
eminently interesting, as exhibiting a small portrait of DUKE CHARLES
himself, kneeling before his tutelary saint.
Here is an exceedingly pretty octavo volume of _Hours,_ of the fifteenth
century, fresh and sparkling in its illuminations, with marginal
decorations of flowers, monsters, and capriccios. It is in the binding of
the time--the wood, covered with gilt ornaments. _Office of the Virgin:_ a
neat vellum MS. of the fourteenth century--with ornamented capital initials
and margins, and about two dozen of larger illuminations. But the chief
attraction of this MS. arises from the text having been written by four of
the most celebrated Princesses of the House of Austria, whose names are
inscribed in the first fly leaf.
Here is a "_Boccace des Cas des Nobles_" by Laurent Premier Fait--which is
indeed every where. Nor must a sprinkle of _Roman Classics_ be omitted to
be noticed, however briefly. A _Celsus, Portions of Livy,_ the
_Metamorphosis of Ovid_, _Seneca's Tragedies_, the _Æneid of Virgil_, and
_Juvenal_: none, I think, of a later period than the beginning or middle of
the fifteenth century--just before the invention of printing. Among the
MSS. of a miscellaneous class, are two which I was well pleased to examine:
namely, the _Funerailles des Reines de France_, in folio--adorned with
eleven large illuminations of royal funerals--and a work entitled _Mayni
Jasonis Juris consulti Eq. Rom. Cæs., &c, Epitalamion, in_ 4to. The latter
MS. is, in short, an epithalamium upon the marriage of Maximilian the Great
and Blanche Maria, composed by M. Jaso, who was a ducal senator, and
attached to the embassy which returned with the destined bride for
Maximilian. What is its _chief_ ornament, in my estimation, are two sweetly
executed small portraits of the royal husband and his consort. I was
earnest to have fac-similes of them; and Mr. Young gave me the strongest
assurances that my wishes should be attended to.[148] Thus much; or perhaps
thus little, for the MSS. Still more brief must be my account of the
PRINTED BOOKS: and first for a fifteener or two. It is an edition of _Dio
Chrysostom de Regno_, without date, or name of printer, in 4to.; but most
decidedly executed (as I told Mr. Young) by _Valdarfer_. What renders this
copy exceedingly precious is, that it is printed UPON VELLUM; and is, I
think, the only known copy so executed. It is in beautiful condition. Here
is a pretty volume of _Hours_, in Latin, with a French metrical version,
printed in the fifteenth century, without date, and struck off UPON VELLUM.
It has wood-cuts, which are coloured of the time. From a copy of ms.
verses, at the beginning of the volume, we learn that "the author of this
metrical version was _Peter Gringore,_ commonly called _Vaudemont_, herald
at arms to the Duke of Lorraine; who dedicated and brought this very copy
to _Renatus of Bourbon_." I was much struck with a magnificent folio
_Missal_, printed at Venice by that skilful typographical artist _I.H. de
Landoia,_ in 1488--UPON VELLUM: with the cuts coloured.[149] A few small
vellum _Hours_ by _Vostre_ and Vivian are sufficiently pretty.
In the class of books printed upon vellum, and continuing with the
sixteenth century, I must not fail to commence with the notice of two
copies of the _Tewrdannckh_, each of the date of 1517, and each UPON
VELLUM. One is coloured, and the other not coloured. Mr. Young describes
the former in the following animated language: "Exemplar omnibus numeris
absolutum, optimeque servatum. Præstantissimum, rarissimumque tum
typographicæ, tum xylographicæ artis, monumentum." _Lucani Pharsalia,_
1811. Folio. Printed by Degen. A beautiful copy, of a magnificent book,
UPON VELLUM; illustrated by ten copper plates. _M.C. Frontonis Opera:
edidit Maius Mediol_. 1815. 4to. An unique copy; upon vellum. _Flore
Medicale decrite par Chaumeton & peinte par Mme. E. Panckoucke & I.F.
Turpin. Paris,_ 1814. Supposed to be unique, as a vellum copy; with the
original drawings, and the cuts printed in bistre. Here is also a
magnificent work, called "_Omaggio delle Provincie Venetæ_" upon the
nuptials of the present Emperor and Empress of Austria. It consists of
seventeen copper-plates, printed upon vellum, and preserved in two cases,
covered with beautiful ornaments and figures, in worked gold and silver,
&c. Of this magnificent production of art, there were two copies only
printed upon vellum, and this is one of them.
Up stairs, on the third floor, is kept his Majesty's COLLECTION of ENGRAVED
PORTRAITS--which amount, as Mr. Young informed me, to not fewer than
120,000 in number. They commence with the earliest series, from the old
German and Italian masters, and descend regularly to our own times. Of
course such a collection contains very much that is exquisite and rare in
the series of _British Portraits_. Mr. Young is an Italian by birth; but
has been nurtured, from earliest youth, in the Austrian dominions. He is a
man of strong cultivated parts, and so fond of the literature of the
"_Zodiacus Vitæ_" of _Marcellus Palingenius_--translated by our _Barnabe
Googe_: of the editions of which translation he was very desirous that I
should procure him a copious and correct list. But it is the gentle and
obliging manners--the frank and open-hearted conversation--and, above all,
the high-minded devotedness to his Royal master and to his interests, that
attach, and ever will attach, Mr. Young to me--by ties of no easily
dissoluble nature. We have parted ... perhaps never to meet again; but he
may rest assured that the recollection of his kindnesses ("Semper honos
nomenque," &c.) will never be obliterated from my memory.[150]
Scarcely a stone's throw from the Imperial Library, is the noble mansion of
the venerable DUKE ALBERT of _Saxe-Teschen:_ the husband of the lady to
whose memory Canova has erected the proudest trophy of his art. This
amiable and accomplished nobleman has turned his eightieth year; and is
most liberal and kind in the display of all the treasures which belong to
him.[151] These "treasures" are of a first-rate character; both as to
_Drawings_ and _Prints_. He has no rival in the _former_ department, and
even surpasses the Emperor in the latter. I visited and examined his
collection (necessarily in a superficial manner) twice; paying only
particular attention to the drawings of the Italian school--including those
of Claude Lorraine. I do not know what is in our _own_ royal collection,
but I may safely say that our friend Mr. Ottley has some finer _Michel
Angelos and Raffaelles_--and the Duke of Devonshire towers, beyond all
competition, in the possession of _Claude Lorraines_. Yet you are to know
that the drawings of Duke Albert amount to nearly 12,000 in number. They
are admirably well arranged--in a large, light room--overlooking the
ramparts. Having so recently examined the productions of the earlier
masters in the German school, at Munich--but more particularly in Prince
Eugene's collection of prints, in the Imperial Library here--I did not care
to look after those specimens of the same masters which were in the port
folios of the Duke Albert. The _Albert Durer_ drawings, however, excited my
attention, and extorted the warmest commendation. It is quite delightful to
learn (for so M. Bartsch told me--the Duke himself being just now at Baden)
that this dignified and truly respectable old man, yet takes delight in the
treasures of his own incomparable collection. "Whenever I visit him (said
my "fidus Achates" M.B.) he begs me to take a chair and sit beside him; and
is anxious to obtain intelligence of any thing curious, or rare, or
beautiful, which may add to the worth of his collection."
It is now high time, methinks, to take leave not only of public and private
collections of books, but of almost every thing else in Vienna. Yet I must
add a word connected with literature and the fine arts. As to the former,
it seems to sleep soundly. Few or no literary societies are encouraged, few
public discussions are tolerated, and the capital of the empire is without
either _reviews_ or _institutions_--which can bear the least comparison
with our own. The library of the University is said, however, to hold
fourscore thousand volumes. Few critical works are published there; and for
_one_ Greek or Roman classic put forth at Vienna, they have _half_ a
_score_ at Leipsic, Franckfort, Leyden, and Strasbourg. But in Oriental
literature, M. Hammer is a tower of strength, and justly considered to be
the pride of his country. The Academy of Painting is here a mere shadow of
a shade. In the fine arts, Munich is as six to one beyond Vienna. A
torpidity, amounting to infatuation, seems to possess those public men who
have influence both on the councils and prosperity of their country. When
the impulse for talent, furnished by the antique gems belonging to the
Imperial collection,[152] is considered, it is surprising how little has
been accomplished at Vienna for the last century. M. Bartsch is, however, a
proud exception to any reproach arising from the want of indigenous talent.
His name and performances alone are a host against such captious
imputations.[153] There wants only a few wiser heads, and more active
spirits, in some of the upper circles of society, and Vienna might produce
graphic works as splendid as they would be permanent.
We will now leave the city for the country, or rather for the immediate
neighbourhood of Vienna; and then, having, I think, sent you a good long
Vienna despatch, must hasten to take leave--not only of yourself, but of
this metropolis. Whether I shall again write to you before I cross the
Rhine on my return home--is quite uncertain. Let me therefore make the most
of the present: which indeed is of a most unconscionable length. Turn, for
one moment, to the opening of it--and note, there, some mention made of
certain monasteries--one of which is situated at CLOSTERNEUBURG, the other
in the suburbs. I will first take you to the former--a pleasant drive of
about nine miles from hence. Mr. Lewis, myself, and our attendant
Rohfritsch, hired a pair of horses for the day; and an hour and a half
brought us to a good inn, or Restaurateur's immediately opposite the
monastery in question. In our route thither, the Danube continued in sight
all the way--which rendered the drive very pleasant. The river may be the
best part of a mile broad, near the monastery. The sight of the building in
question was not very imposing, after those which I had seen in my route to
Vienna. The monastery is, in fact, an incomplete edifice; but the
foundations of the building are of an ancient date.[154] Having postponed
our dinner to a comparatively late hour, I entered, as usual, upon the
business of the monastic visit. The court-yard, or quadrangle, had a mean
appearance; but I saw enough of architectural splendour to convince me
that, if this monastery had been completed according to the original
design, it would have ranked among the noblest in Austria.
On obtaining admission, I enquired for the librarian, but was told that he
had not yet (two o'clock) risen from dinner. I apologised for the
intrusion, and begged respectfully to be allowed to wait till he should be
disposed to leave the dining-room. The attendant, however, would admit of
no such arrangement; for he instantly disappeared, and returned with a
monk, habited in the _Augustine_ garb, with a grave aspect and measured
step. He might be somewhere about forty years of age. As he did not
understand a word of French, it became necessary again to brush up my
Latin. He begged I would follow him up stairs, and in the way to the
library, would not allow me to utter one word further in apology for my
supposed rudeness in bringing him thus abruptly from his "symposium." A
more good natured man seemingly never opened his lips. Having reached the
library, the first thing he placed before me--as the boast and triumph of
their establishment--was, a large paper copy (in quarto) of an edition of
the _Hebrew Bible_, edited by I. Hahn, one of their fraternity, and
published in 1806, 4 vols.[155] This was accomplished under the patronage
of the Head of the Monastery, _Gaudentius Dunkler_: who was at the sole
expense of the paper and of procuring new Hebrew types. I threw my eye over
the dedication to the President, by Hahn, and saw the former with pleasure
recognised as the MODERN XIMENES.