hotel of the _Agneau Blanc_ we drove thither, and alighted ... close to the
very banks of the Danube--and heard the roar of its rapid stream, turning
several mills, close as it were to our very ears. The master of the hotel,
whose name is _Cramer_, and who talked French very readily, received us
with peculiar courtesy; and, on demanding the best situated room in the
house, we were conducted on the second floor, to the chamber which had been
occupied, only two or three days before, by the Emperor of Austria himself,
on his way to _Aix-la-Chapelle_. The next morning was a morning of wonder
to us. Our sitting-room, which was a very lantern, from the number of
windows, gave us a view of the rushing stream of the Danube, of a portion
of the bridge over it, of some beautifully undulating and vine-covered
hills, in the distance, on the opposite side--and, lower down the stream,
of the town-walls and water-mills, of which latter we had heard the
stunning sounds on our arrival.[157] The whole had a singularly novel and
pleasing appearance.
But if the sitting room was thus productive of gratification, the very
first walk I took in the streets was productive of still greater. On
leaving the inn, and turning to the left, up a narrow street, I came in
view of a house ... upon the walls of which were painted, full three
hundred years ago, the figures of _Goliath and David_. The former could be
scarcely less than twenty feet high: the latter, who was probably about
one-third of that height, was represented as if about to cast the stone
from the sling. The costume of Goliath marked the period when he was thus
represented;[158] and I must say, considering the time that has elapsed
since that representation, that he is yet a fine, vigorous, and
fresh-looking fellow. I continued onwards, now to the right, and afterwards
to the left, without knowing a single step of the route. An old, but short
square gothic tower--upon one of the four sides of which was a curious old
clock, supported by human figures--immediately caught my attention. The
_Town Hall_ was large and imposing; but the _Cathedral_, surrounded by
booths--it being fair-time--was, of course, the great object of my
attention. In short, I saw enough within an hour to convince me, that I was
visiting a large, curious, and well-peopled town; replete with antiquities,
and including several of the time of the Romans, to whom it was necessarily
a very important station. Ratisbon is said to contain a population of about
20,000 souls.
The Cathedral can boast of little antiquity. It is almost a building of
yesterday; yet it is large, richly ornamented on the outside, especially on
the west, between the towers--and is considered one of the noblest
structures of the kind in Bavaria.[159] The interior wants that decisive
effect which simplicity produces. It is too much broken into parts, and
covered with monuments of a very heterogeneous description. Near it I
traced the cloisters of an old convent or monastery of some kind, now
demolished, which could not be less than five hundred years old. The
streets of Ratisbon are generally picturesque, as well from their
undulating forms, as from the antiquity of a great number of the houses.
The modern parts of the town are handsome, and there is a pleasant
inter-mixture of trees and grass plats in some of these more recent
portions. There are some pleasing public walks, after the English fashion;
and a public garden, where a colossal sphinx, erected by the late
philosopher _Gleichen_, has a very imposing appearance. Here is also an
obelisk erected to the memory of Gleichen himself, the founder of these
gardens; and a monument to the memory of Keplar, the astronomer; which
latter was luckily spared in the assault of this town by the French in
1809.
But these are, comparatively, every day objects. A much more interesting
source of observation, to my mind, were the very few existing relics of the
once celebrated monastery of ST. EMMERAM--and a great portion of the
remains of another old monastery, called ST. JAMES--which latter may indeed
be designated the _College of the Jacobites_; as the few members who
inhabit it were the followers of the house and fortunes of the Pretender,
James Stuart. The monastery, or _Abbey of St. Emmeram_ was one of the most
celebrated throughout Europe; and I suspect that its library, both of MSS.
and printed books, was among the principal causes of its celebrity.[160]
The intelligent and truly obliging Mr. A. Kraemer, librarian to the Prince
of Tour and Taxis, accompanied me in my visit to the very few existing
remains of St. Emmeram--which indeed are incorporated, as it were, with the
church close to the palace or residence of the Prince. As I walked along
the corridors of this latter building, after having examined the Prince's
library, and taken notes of a few of the rarer or more beautiful books, I
could look through the windows into the body of the church itself. It is
difficult to describe this religious edifice, and still more so to know
what portions belonged to the old monastery. I saw a stone chair--rude,
massive, and almost shapeless--in which _Adam_ might have sat ... if dates
are to be judged of by the barbarism of form. Something like a crypt, of
which the further part was uncovered--reminded me of portions of the crypt
at _Freysing_; and among the old monuments belonging to the abbey, was one
of _Queen Hemma_, wife of Ludovic, King of Bavaria: a great benefactress,
who was buried there in 876. The figure, which was whole-length, and of the
size of life, was painted; and might be of the fourteenth century. There is
another monument, of _Warmundus, Count of Wasserburg_, who was buried in
1001. These monuments have been lithographised, from the drawings of
Quaglio, in the "_Denkmahle der Baukunst des Mittelalters im Koenigreiche
Baiern_," 1816. Folio.
Of all interesting objects of architectural antiquity in Ratisbon, none
struck me so forcibly--and indeed none is in itself so curious and
singular--as the MONASTERY OF ST. JAMES, before slightly alluded to. The
front of that portion of it, connected with the church, should seem to be
of an extremely remote antiquity. It is the ornaments, or style of
architecture, which give it this character of antiquity. The ornaments,
which are on each side of the door way, or porch, are quite extraordinary,
and appear as if the building had been erected by Mexicans or Hindoos.
Quaglio has made a drawing, and published a lithographic print of the whole
of this entrance. I had conjectured the building to be of the twelfth
century, and was pleased to have my conjecture confirmed by the assurance
of one of the members of the college (either Mr. Richardson or Mr. Sharp)
that the foundations of the building were laid in the middle of the XIIth
century; and that, about twenty miles off, down the Danube, there was
another monastery, now in ruins, called _Mosburg_, if I mistake not--which
was built about the same period, and which exhibited precisely the same
style of architecture.
But if the entire college, with the church, cloisters, sitting rooms, and
dormitories, was productive of so much gratification, the _contents_ of
these rooms, including the _members_ themselves, were productive of yet
greater. To begin with the Head, or President, DR. C. ARBUTHNOT: one of the
finest and healthiest looking old gentlemen I ever beheld--in his
eighty-second year. I should however premise, that the members of this
college--only six or eight in number, and attached to the interests of the
Stuarts--have been settled here almost from their infancy: some having
arrived at seven, and others at twelve, years of age. Their method of
speaking their _own_ language is very singular; and rather difficult of
comprehension. Nor is the _French_, spoken by them, of much better
pronunciation. Of manners the most simple, and apparently of principles the
most pure, they seem to be strangers to those wants and wishes which
frequently agitate a more numerous and polished establishment; and to move,
as it were, from the cradle to the grave ...
"The world forgetting, by the world forgot."
As soon as the present Head ceases to exist,[161] the society is to be
dissolved--and the building to be demolished.[162] I own that this
intelligence, furnished me by one of the members, gave a melancholy and yet
more interesting air to every object which I saw, and to every Member with
whom I conversed. The society is of the Benedictine order, and there is a
large whole length portrait, in the upper cloisters, or rather corridor, of
ST. BENEDICT--with the emphatic inscription of "PATER MONACHORUM." The
_library_ was carefully visited by me, and a great number of volumes
inspected. The local is small and unpretending: a mere corridor,
communicating with a tolerably good sized room, in the middle, at right
angles. I saw a few _hiatuses_, which had been caused by disposing of the
volumes, that had _filled_ them, to the cabinet in St. James's Place. In
fact, Mr. Horn--so distinguished for his bibliographical _trouvailles_--had
been either himself a _member_ of this College, or had had a _brother_, so
circumstanced, who foraged for him. What remained was, comparatively, mere
chaff: and yet I contrived to find a pretty ample sprinkling of Greek and
Latin Philosophy, printed and published at Paris by _Gourmont_, _Colinæus_,
and the _Stephens_, in the first half of the sixteenth century. There were
also some most beautifully-conditioned Hebrew books, printed by the
_Stephen family_;--and having turned the bottoms of those books outwards,
which I thought it might be possible to purchase, I requested the librarian
to consider of the matter; who, himself apparently consenting, informed me,
on the following morning, that, on a consultation held with the other
members, it was deemed advisable not to part with any more of their books.
I do not suppose that the whole would bring 250l. beneath a well known
hammer in Pall-Mall.
The PUBLIC LIBRARY was also carefully visited. It is a strange, rambling,
but not wholly uninteresting place--although the collection is rather
barbarously miscellaneous. I saw more remains of Roman antiquities of the
usual character of rings, spear-heads, lachrymatories, &c.--than of rare
and curious old books: but, among the latter, I duly noticed _Mentelin's
edition of the first German Bible_. No funds are applied to the increase of
this collection; and the books, in an upper and lower room, seem to lie
desolate and forlorn, as if rarely visited--and yet more rarely opened.
Compared with the celebrated public libraries in France, Bavaria, and
Austria, this of RATISBON is ... almost a reproach to the municipal
authorities of the place. I cannot however take leave of the book-theme, or
of Ratisbon--without mentioning, in terms of unfeigned sincerity, the
obligations I was under to M. AUGUSTUS KRAEMER, the librarian of the Prince
of Tour and Taxis; who not only satisfied, but even anticipated, my wishes,
in every thing connected with antiquities. There is a friendliness of
disposition, a mildness of manner, and pleasantness both of mien and of
conversation, about this gentleman, which render his society extremely
engaging. Upon the whole, although I absolutely gained nothing in the way
of book-acquisitions, during my residence at Ratisbon, I have not passed
three pleasanter days in any town in Bavaria than those which were spent
here. It is a place richly deserving of the minute attention of the
antiquary; and the country, on the opposite side of the Danube, presents
some genuine features of picturesque beauty. Nor were the civility, good
fare, and reasonable charges of the _Agneau Blanc_, among the most
insignificant comforts attending our residence at Ratisbon.
We left that town a little after mid-day, intending to sleep the same
evening at NEUMARKT, within two stages of Nuremberg. About an English mile
from Ratisbon, the road rises to a considerable elevation, whence you
obtain a fine and interesting view of that city--with the Danube encircling
its base like a belt. From this eminence I looked, for the last time, upon
that magnificent river--which, with very few exceptions, had kept in view
the whole way from Vienna: a distance of about two hundred and sixty
English miles. I learnt that an aquatic excursion, from Ulm to Ratisbon,
was one of the pleasantest schemes or parties of pleasure, imaginable--and
that the English were extremely partial to it. Our faces were now
resolutely turned towards Nuremberg; while a fine day, and a tolerably good
road, made us insensible of any inconvenience which might otherwise have
resulted from a journey of nine German miles.
We reached _Neumarkt_ about night-fall, and got into very excellent
quarters. The rooms of the inn which we occupied had been filled by the
Duke of Wellington and Lord and Lady Castlereagh on their journey to
Congress in the winter of 1814. The master of the inn related to us a
singular anecdote respecting the Duke. On hearing of his arrival, the
inhabitants of the place flocked round the inn, and the next morning the
Duke found the _tops of his boots half cut away_--from the desire which the
people expressed of having "some memorial of the great captain of the
age."[163] No other, or more feasible plan presented itself, than that of
making interest with his Grace's groom--when the boots were taken down to
be cleaned on the morning following his arrival. Perhaps the Duke's _coat_,
had it been seen, might have shared the same fate.
The morning gave me an opportunity of examining the town of _Neumarkt_,
which is surrounded by a wall, in the _inner_ side of which is a sort of
covered corridor (now in a state of great decay) running entirely round the
town. At different stations there are wooden steps for the purpose of
ascent and descent. In a churchyard, I was startled by the representation
of the _Agony in the Garden_ (so often mentioned in this Tour) which was
executed in stone, and coloured after the life, and which had every
appearance of _reality_. I stumbled upon it, unawares: and confess that I
had never before witnessed so startling a representation of the subject.
Having quitted Neumarkt, after breakfast, it remained only to change horses
at _Feucht_, and afterwards to dine at Nuremberg. Of all cities which I had
wished to see, before and since quitting England, NUREMBERG was that upon
which my heart seemed to be the most fixed.[164] It had been the nursery of
the Fine Arts in Bavaria; one of the favourite residences of Maximilian the
Great; the seat of learning and the abode equally of commerce and of wealth
during the sixteenth century. It was here too, that ALBERT DURER--perhaps
the most extraordinary genius of his age--lived and died: and here I learnt
that his tombstone, and the house in which he resided, were still to be
seen.
The first view of the spires and turretted walls of Nuremberg[165] filled
me with a sensation which it is difficult to describe. Within about five
English miles of it, just as we were about to run down the last descent,
from the bottom of which it is perfectly level to the very gates of the
city--we discovered a group of peasants, chiefly female, busied in carrying
barrows, apparently of fire wood, towards the town. On passing them, the
attention of Mr. Lewis was caught by one female countenance in
particular--so distinguished by a sweetness and benevolence of
expression--that we requested the postilion to stop, that we might learn
some particulars respecting this young woman, and the mode of life which
she followed. She was without stockings; of a strong muscular form, and her
face was half buried beneath a large flapping straw hat. We learnt that her
parents were engaged in making black lead pencils (a flourishing branch of
commerce, at this moment, at Nuremberg) for the wholesale dealers; and they
were so poor, that she was glad to get a _florin_ by conveying wood (as we
then saw her) four miles to Nuremberg.
It was market-day when we entered Nuremberg, about four o'clock. The inn to
which we had been recommended, proved an excellent one: civility,
cleanliness, good fare, and reasonable charges--these form the tests of the
excellence of the _Cheval Rouge_ at Nuremberg. In our route thither, we
passed the two churches of St. _Lawrence_ and St. _Sebald_, of which the
former is the largest--and indeed principal place of worship in the town.
We also passed through the market-place, wherein are several gothic
buildings--more elaborate in ornament than graceful in form or curious from
antiquity. The whole square, however, was extremely interesting, and full
of population and bustle. The town indeed is computed to contain 30,000
inhabitants. We noticed, on the outsides of the houses, large paintings, as
at Ratisbon, of gigantic figures: and every street seemed to promise fresh
gratification, as we descended one and ascended another.
My first object, on settling at the hotel, was to seek out the PUBLIC
LIBRARY, and to obtain an inspection of some of those volumes which had
exercised the pen of DE MURR, in his Latin _Memoirs of the Public Library
of Nuremberg_. I was now also in the birthplace of PANZER--another, and
infinitely more distinguished bibliographer,--whose _Typographical Annals
of Europe_ will for ever render his memory as dear to other towns as to
Nuremberg. In short, when I viewed the _Citadel_ of this place--and
witnessed, in my perambulations about the town, so many curious specimens
of gothic architecture, I could only express my surprise and regret that
more substantial justice had not been rendered to so interesting a spot. I
purchased every thing I could lay my hand upon, connected with the
_published antiquities_ of the town; but that "every thing" was
sufficiently scanty and unsatisfactory.
Before, however, I make mention of the Public Library, it may be as well
briefly to notice the two churches--- _St. Sebald_ and _St. Lawrence_. The
former was within a stone's throw of our inn. Above the door of the western
front, is a remarkably fine crucifix of wood--placed, however, in too deep
a recess--said to be by _Veit Stoss_. The head is of a very fine form, and
the countenance has an expression of the most acute and intense feeling. A
crown of thorns is twisted round the brow. But this figure, as well as the
whole of the outside and inside of the church, stands in great need of
being repaired. The towers are low, with insignificant turrets: the latter
evidently a later erection--probably at the commencement of the sixteenth
century. The eastern extremity, as well indeed as the aisles, is surrounded
by buttresses; and the sharp-pointed, or lancet windows, seem to bespeak
the fourteenth, if not the thirteenth century. The great "wonder" of the
interior, is the _Shrine of the Saint_,[166] (to whom the church is
dedicated,) of which the greater part is silver. At the time of my viewing
it, it was in a disjointed state--parts of it having been taken to pieces,
for repair: but from Geisler's exquisite little engraving, I should
pronounce it to be second to few specimens of similar art in Europe. The
figures do not exceed two feet in height, and the extreme elevation of the
shrine may be about eight feet. Nor has Geisler's almost equally exquisite
little engraving of the richly carved gothic _font_ in this church, less
claim upon the admiration of the connoisseur.
The mother church, or Cathedral of _St. Lawrence_, is much larger, and
portions of it may be of the latter end of the thirteenth century. The
principal entrance presents us with an elaborate door-way--perhaps of the
fourteenth century--with the sculpture divided into several compartments,
as at Rouen, Strasbourg, and other earlier edifices. There is a poverty in
the two towers, both from their size, and the meagerness of the windows;
but the slim spires at the summit, are, doubtless, nearly of a coeval date
with that which supports them. The bottom of the large circular, or
marygold window, is injured in its effect by a gothic balustrade of a later
period. The interior of this church has certainly nothing very commanding
or striking, on the score of architectural grandeur or beauty; but there
are some painted glass-windows--especially by _Volkmar_---which are
deserving of particular attention. Nuremberg has one advantage over many
populous towns; its public buildings are not choked up by narrow streets:
and I hardly know an edifice of distinction, round which the spectator may
not walk with perfect ease, and obtain a view of every portion which he is
desirous of examining. _The Fraüenkerche_, or the _church of St. Mary_, in
the market-place, has a very singular construction in its western front. A
double arched door-way, terminated by an arch at the top, and surmounted by
a curious triangular projection from the main building, has rather an odd,
than a beautiful effect. Above, terminating in an apex--surmounted by a
small turret, are five rows of gothic niches, of which the extremities, at
each end, narrow--in the fashion of steps, gradually--from the topmost of
which range or rows of niches, the turret rises perpendicularly. It is a
small edifice, and has been recently doomed to make a very distinguished
figure in the imposing lithographic print of Quaglio.[167] The interior of
this church is not less singular, as may be seen in the print published
about sixty years ago, and yet faithful to its present appearance.
I know not how it was, but I omitted to notice the ci-devant church of
_Ste. Claire_, where there is said to be the most ancient stained glass
window which exists--that is, of the middle of the thirteenth century; nor
did I obtain a sight of the seven pillars of _Adam Kraft_, designating the
seven points or stations of the Passion of our Saviour. But in the
_Rath-hauz Platz_, in the way to the public library, I used to look with
delight--almost every morning of the four days which I spent at
Nuremberg--at the fragments of gothic architecture, to the right and left,
that presented themselves; and among these, none caught my eye and pleased
my taste, so fully, as the little hexagonal gothic window, which has
sculptured subjects beneath the mullions, and which was attached to the
_Pfarrhof_, or clergyman's residence, of St. Sebald. If ever Mr. Blore's
pencil should be exercised in this magical city for gothic art, I am quite
persuaded that _this window_ will be one of the subjects upon which its
powers will be most successfully employed.