crucifixion, of the date of 1430: which undoubtedly had a very staggering
aspect.[175] It is described in the subjoined note; and for reasons,
therein detailed, I consider it to be much less valuable than the _St.
Catherine_.[176] I also purchased of the Baron a few _Martin Schoens,
Albert Durers_, and _Israel Van Mechlins_; and what I preferred to either,
is a beautiful little illumination, cut out of an old choral book, or
psalter, said, by the vendor, to be the production of _Weimplan_, an
artist, at Ulm, of the latter end of the fifteenth century. On my return to
England, I felt great pleasure in depositing this choice morceau of ancient
art in the very extraordinary collection of my friend Mr. Ottley--at the
same price for which I had obtained it--about five and twenty shillings.
Upon the whole, I was well satisfied with the result of the "temptation"
practised upon me at Baron Derschau's, and left the mansion with my purse
lightened of about 340 florins. The Baron was anxious to press a choice
_Aldus_ or two upon me; but the word "choice" is somewhat ambiguous: and
what was considered to be so at _Nuremberg_, might receive a different
construction in _London_. I was, however, anxious to achieve a much nobler
feat than that of running away with undescribed printed volumes, or rare
old prints--whether from copper or wood. It was at Nuremberg that the EBNER
FAMILY had long resided: and where the _Codex Ebnerianus_--a Greek MS. of
the New Testament, of the XIIth. century--had been so much celebrated by
the elaborate disquisition of De Murr--which is accompanied by several
copper plate fac-simile engravings of the style of art in the illuminations
of the MS. in question. I had heard that the ancient splendors of the Ebner
family had been long impaired; that their library had been partly
dispersed; and that THIS VERY MS. was yet to be purchased. I resolved,
therefore, to lose no opportunity of becoming possessed of it ... preparing
myself to offer a very considerable sum, and trusting that the spirit of
some private collector, or public body, in my own country, would not long
allow it to be a burden on my hands. Accordingly, by the interposition and
kind offices of M. Lechner, the bookseller, I learnt, not only in what
quarter the MS. was yet preserved, but that its owners were willing to
dispose of it for a valuable consideration. A day and hour were quickly
appointed. The gentleman, entrusted with the MS.--M. Lechner as
interpreter, my own valet, as interpreter between myself and M. Lechner,
who could not speak French very fluently--all assembled at the _Cheval
Rouge_: with the CODEX EBNERIANUS, bound in massive silver, lying upon the
table between us. It is a small, thick quarto volume; written in the
cursive Greek character, upon soft and fair coloured vellum, and adorned
with numerous illuminations in a fine state of preservation. Its antiquity
cannot surely be carried beyond the XIIth century. On the outside of one of
the covers, is a silver crucifix. Upon the whole, this precious book, both
from its interior and exterior attractions, operated upon me infinitely
more powerfully than the ivory-handled knives, gilt-studded daggers,
gorgeous scraps of painting, or antique-looking prints ... of the Baron
Derschau.
We soon commenced an earnest conversation; all four of us frequently being
upon our legs, and speaking, at the same time. The price was quickly fixed
by the owner of the MS.; but not so readily consented to by the proposed
purchaser. It was 120 louis d'or. I adhered to the offer of 100: and we
were each inflexible in our terms. I believe indeed, that if my 100 louis
d'or could have been poured from a bag upon the table, as
"argent-comptant," the owner of the MS. _could_ not have resisted the
offer: but he seemed to think that, if paper currency, in the shape of a
bill, were resorted to, it would not be prudent to adopt that plan unless
the sum of 120l. were written upon the instrument. The conference ended by
the MS. being carried back to be again deposited in the family where it had
so long taken up its abode. It is, however, most gratifying for me to add,
that its return to its ancient quarters was only temporary; and that it was
destined to be taken from them, for ever, by British spirit and British
liberality. When Mr. John Payne visited Germany, in the following year, I
was anxious to give him some particulars about this MS. and was sanguine
enough to think that a second attempt to carry it off could not fail to be
successful. The house of Messrs. Payne and Foss, so long and justly
respected throughout Europe, invested their young representative with ample
powers for negotiation--and the _Codex Ebnerianus_, after having been
purchased by the representative in question, for the sum first insisted
upon by the owner--now reposes upon the richly furnished shelves of the
BODLEIAN LIBRARY--where it is not likely to repose _in vain_; and from
whence no efforts, by the most eminently successful bibliographical
diplomatist in Europe, can dislodge it.
I must now say a few words respecting the present state of the FINE ARTS at
Nuremberg, and make mention of a few things connected with the vicinity of
the town, ere I conduct the reader to Manheim: regretting, however, that I
am necessitated to make that account so summary. I consider M. KLEIN to be
among the very brightest ornaments of this place, as an artist. I had seen
enough of his productions at Vienna, to convince me that his pencil
possessed no ordinary powers. He is yet a young man; somewhere between
thirty and forty, and leads occasionally a very romantic life--but
admirably subservient to the purposes of his art. He puts a knapsack upon
his back, filled with merely necessary articles of linen and materials for
work--and then stops, draws, eats, drinks, and sleeps where it pleases him:
wherever his eye is gratified by strong characteristics of nature--whether
on cattle, peasants, soldiers, or Cossacks.
Klein appears to have obtained his exquisite knowledge of animal painting
from having been a pupil of GABLER--a professed studier of natural history,
and painter of animals. The pupil was unluckily absent from Nuremberg, when
I was there; but from many enquiries of his ultimate friends, I learnt that
he was of a cheerful, social disposition--fond of good company, and was in
particular a very active and efficient member of a _Society of Artists_,
which has been recently established at Nuremberg. Klein himself, however,
resides chiefly at Vienna--there not being sufficient patronage for him in
his native city. His water-coloured drawings, in particular, are considered
admirable; but he has lately commenced painting in oil--with considerable
success. His _etchings_, of which he has published about one hundred, are
in general masterly; but perhaps they are a little too metallic and severe.
His observation of nature is at once acute and correct.
In the neighbourhood of Nuremberg--that is to say, scarcely more than an
English mile from thence--are the grave and tomb-stone of ALBERT DURER. Dr.
Bright having printed that artist's epitaph at length[177]--and it being
found in most biographical details relating to him--it need not be here
repeated. The monument is simple and striking. In the churchyard, there is
a representation of the Crucifixion, cut in stone. It was on a fine, calm
evening, just after sunset, that I first visited the tombstone of Albert
Durer; and shall always remember the sensations, with which that visit was
attended, as among the most pleasing and impressive of my life. The silence
of the spot,--its retirement from the city--the falling shadows of night,
and the increasing solemnity of every monument of the dead--- together with
the mysterious, and even awful effect, produced by the colossal crucifix...
but yet perhaps, more than either, the recollection of the extraordinary
talents of the artist, so quietly sleeping beneath my feet ... all
conspired to produce a train of reflections which may be readily conceived,
but not so readily described. If ever a man deserved to be considered as
the glory of his age and nation, ALBERT DURER was surely that man. He was,
in truth, the Shakspeare of his art--for the _period_.
Notwithstanding I had made every enquiry among the principal booksellers,
of _Antiquars_, [178] for rare and curious old volumes, I literally found
nothing worth purchasing. The Baron Derschau was doubtless my best friend
on this score. Yet I was told that, if I would put a pair of horses to my
carriage, and drive, to _Furth_--a short two German mile stage from
Nuremberg, and which indeed I had distinctly seen from the windows of the
citadel--I should find there, at a certain Antiquar's, called HEERDEGEN, an
endless, variety of what was precious and curious in the department of
which I was in search. Accordingly, I put the wheels of my carriage in
motion, within twenty-four hours of receiving the intelligence. The road to
Furth is raised from the level of the surrounding country, and well paved
in the centre. It is also lined by poplar trees, a great part of the way. I
have reason to remember this visit for many a long day. Having drove to M.
Heerdegen's door, I was received with sufficient courtesy; and was told to
mount to the top of the house, where the more ancient books were kept,
while he, M. Heerdegen, settled a little business below. That business
consisted in selling so many old folios, by the pound weight, in great
wooden scales;--the vendor, all the time, keeping up a cheerful and
incessant conversation. The very _sight_ of this transaction was sufficient
to produce an hysterical affection--and, instead of mounting upwards, I
stood--stock still--wondering at such an act of barbarity! Having requested
permission to open the volumes in question, and finding them to contain
decretals, and glosses upon councils, I recovered myself by degrees ... and
leisurely walked to the very topmost floor of the house.
M. Heerdegen was not long after me. He is a most naïf character; and when
he is pleased with a customer, he presents him with an india ink drawing of
his own portrait. On receiving this testimony of his approbation, I did not
fail to make my proper acknowledgements: but, with respect to the books
with which I was to load my carriage, there was scarcely a shadow of hope,
of even securing a dozen volumes worth transporting to the banks of the
Rhine. However, after three hours pretty severe labour--having opened and
rejected I know not how many books of Medicine, Civil and Canon Law,
Scholastic Divinity, Commentaries upon Aristotle, and disputations
connected with Duns Scotus, together with a great number of later
impressions of the Latin Bible in the XVth century--I contrived to get a
good _Latin Plutarch_, some pretty Aldine octavos, a few _Lochers_ and
_Brandts_, a rare little German poetical tract, of four leaves, called the
_Wittemberg Nightingale_, and an _Italian Bible_ printed by the _Giuntæ_,
which had belonged to _Melancthon_, and contained his autograph:--all
which, with some pieces by _Eckius_, _Schottus_, and _Erasmus_, to the
amount of 4_l._ 4_s._ of English money, were conveyed with great pomp and
ceremony below.
However, I had not been long with M. Heerdegen, before a clergyman, of
small stature and spare countenance, made his appearance and saluted me. He
had seen the carriage pass, and learnt, on enquiry, that the traveller
within it had come expressly to see M. Heerdegen. He introduced himself as
the curate of the neighbouring church, of which M. Fronmüller was the
rector or pastor: adding, that _his own_ church was the only place of
Christian worship in the village. This intelligence surprised me; but the
curate, whose name was _Link_, continued thus: "This town, Sir, consists of
a population of ten thousand souls, of which four-fifths are _Jews;_ who
are strictly forbidden to sleep within the walls of Nuremberg. It is only
even by a sort of courtesy, or sufferance, that they are allowed to
transact business there during the day time." M. Link then begged I would
accompany him to his own church, and to the rector's house--taking his own
house in the way. There was nothing particularly deserving of notice in the
church, which has little claim to antiquity. It had, however, a good organ.
The rector was old and infirm. I did not see him, but was well pleased with
his library, which is at once scholar-like and professional. The library of
the curate was also excellent of its kind, though limited, from the
confined means of its owner. It is surprising upon what small stipends the
Protestant clergy live abroad; and if I were to mention that of M. Link, I
should only excite the scepticism of my readers.
I was then conducted through the village--which abounded with dirty figures
and dirty faces. The women and female children were particularly
disgusting, from the little attention paid to cleanliness. The men and boys
were employed in work, which accounted for their rough appearance. The
place seems to swarm with population--and if a plague, or other epidemic
disorder should prevail, I can hardly conceive a scene in which it is
likely to make more dreadful havoc than at _Furth_. Although I had not
obtained any thing _very special_ at this place, in the book way, I was yet
glad to have visited it--were it only for the sake of adding one more
original character to the _bibliopolistic fraternity_ upon the
Continent. In spite of the very extraordinary _line_ of business which M.
Heerdegen chooses to follow, I have reason to think that he "turns a good
penny" in the course of the year; but own that it was with surprise I
learnt that Mr. Bohn, the bookseller of Frith Street,[179] had preceded me
in my visit--and found some historical folios which he thought well worth
the expense of conveyance to England.
It remains only to return for a few hours to Nuremberg, and then to conduct
the reader to Manheim. One of the four days, during which I remained at
Nuremberg, happened to be _Sunday_; and of all places upon the Continent,
Sunday is, at Nuremberg, among the gayest and most attractive. The weather
was fine, and the whole population was alternately within and without the
city walls. Some Bavarian troops of cavalry were exercising near the public
walks, and of course a great multitude was collected to witness their
manoeuvres. On casting my eye over this concourse of people, attired in
their best clothes, I was particularly struck with the head dresses of the
women: composed chiefly of broad-stiffened riband, of different colours,
which is made to stick out behind in a flat manner--not to be described
except by the pencil of my graphic companion. The figure, seen in the
frontispiece of the third volume of this work, is that of the _Fille de
chambre_ at our hotel, who was habited in her Sunday attire; and it
displays in particular the riband head-dress--which was of black
water-tabby sarsenet. But as these ribands are of different colours, and
many of them gay and gorgeous, their appearance, in the open air--and where
a great number of people is collected, and in constant motion--is that, as
it were, of so many moving suns. In general, the _Nurembergeoises_ have
little pretensions to beauty: they are; however, active, civil, and
intelligent.
It is rarely one takes leave of an hotel with regret when every days
journey brings us sensibly nearer home. But it is due to the kind treatment
and comfortable lodgings, of which I partook at Nuremberg; to say, that no
traveller can leave the _Cheval Rouge_ without at least wishing that all
future inns which he visits may resemble it. We left Nuremberg after
dinner, resolving to sleep at _Ansbach_; of which place the Margrave and
Margravine were sufficiently distinguished in our own country. I had
received a letter of introduction to Monsieur Le Comte de Drechsel,
President de la Regence--and President of the corporation of
Nuremberg--respecting the negotiation for the Boccaccio of 1472; from
which, however, I augured no very favourable result. The first stage from
Nuremberg is _Kloster Heilbronn_: where, on changing horses, the master of
the inn pressed me hard to go and visit the old church, which gives the
name to the village, and which was said to contain some curious old
paintings by Albert Durer: but there was literally no time--and I began to
be tired ... almost of Albert Durers! At Ansbach we drove to the _Crown_, a
large and excellent inn. It was nightfall when we entered the town, but not
so dark as to render the size and extent of the Margrave's palace
invisible, nor so late as to render a visit to two booksellers, after a
late cup of tea, impracticable. At one place, I found something in the
shape of old books, but purchased nothing--except an edition of Boccaccio's
Tales, in French, with the well known plates of Roman Le Hooge, 1701. 8vo.
It was loosely bound in sorry calf, but a florin could not be considered
too much for it, even in its sombre state. The other bookseller supplied,
by the tender of his friendly offices, the deficiencies of his
collection--which, in fact, consisted of nothing but a stock of modern
publications.
The next morning I visited the Comte Drechsel--having first written him a
note, and gently touched upon the point at issue. He received me with
courtesy; and I found him particularly intelligent--but guarded in every
expression connected with any thing like the indulgence, even of a hope, of
obtaining the precious volume in question. He would submit my proposition
to the municipality. He understood English perfectly well, and spoke French
fluently. I had received intimation of a collection of rare and curious old
books, belonging to a Mr...., in the environs of Ansbach; who, having
recently experienced some misfortunes, had meditated the sale of his
library. The owner had a pretty country house, scarcely a stone's throw
from the outskirts of the town, and I saw his wife and children--but no
books. I learnt that these latter were conveyed to the town for the purpose
of sale; and having seen a few of them, I left a commission for a copy of
_Fust and Schoeffher's_ edition of Pope Boniface's Councils of 1465, UPON
VELLUM. I have never heard of the result of the sale.
From Ansbach to _Heilbronn_, which can be scarcely less than sixty English
miles, few things struck me on the road more forcibly than the remains of a
small old church and cloisters at _Feuchtwang_--where we stopped to change
horses, the first stage after Ansbach. It rained heavily, and we had only
time to run hastily through these very curious old relics, which, if
appearances formed the test of truth, might, from the colour of the stone
and the peculiarity of the structure, have been old enough to designate the
first christian place of worship established in Germany. The whole,
however, was upon a singularly small scale. I earnestly recommend every
English antiquary to stop longer than we did at Feuchtwang. From thence to
_Heilbronn_, we passed many a castle-crowned summit, of which the base and
adjacent country were covered by apparently impenetrable forests of fir and
elm; but regretted exceedingly that it was quite nightfall when we made the
very steep and _nervous_ entrance into _Hall_--down a mountainous descent,
which seemed to put the carriage on an inclined plane of forty-five
degrees. We were compelled to have four horses, on making the opposite
ascent; and were even preceded by boys, with links and torches, over a
small bridge, under which runs a precipitous and roaring stream. Hall is a
large, lively, and much frequented town.
_Heilbronn_, or _Hailbrunn_, is a large consequential town; and parts of it
are spacious, as well as curious from appearances of antiquity. The large
square, where we changed horses, was sufficiently striking; and the Hotel
de ville in particular was worthy of being copied by the pencil of my
companion. But we were only passing travellers, anxious to reach Manheim
and to cross the Rhine. The country about Heilbronn is picturesque and
fertile, and I saw enough to convince me that two days residence there
would not be considered as time thrown away. It is one of the principal
towns in the kingdom of Wirtemberg, and situated not many leagues from the
Black Forest, or _Schwartz Wald_, where wild boars and other wild animals
abound, and where St. Hubert (for aught I know to the contrary) keeps his
nocturnal revels in some hitherto unfrequented glen ... beneath the
radiance of an unclouded moon.
But if _Heilbronn_ be attractive, from the imposing appearance of the
houses, _Heidelberg_ is infinitely more so; containing a population of nine
thousand inhabitants. We reached this latter place at dinner time, on
Sunday--but as it rained heavily for the last hour previous to our
entrance, we could not take that survey of the adjacent country which we so
much desired to do. Yet we saw sufficient to delight us infinitely: having
travelled along the banks of the river _Neckhar_ for the last three or four
miles, observing the beautifully wood-crowned hills on the opposite side.
But it is the CASTLE, or OLD PALACE of HEIDELBERG--where the Grand Dukes of
Baden, or old Electors Palatine, used to reside--and where the celebrated
TUN, replenished with many a score hogshead of choice Rhenish wine--form
the grand objects of attraction to the curious traveller. The palace is a
striking edifice more extensive than any thing I had previously seen; but
in the general form of its structure, so like _Holland House_ at
Kensington, that I hesitated not one moment to assign the commencement of
the sixteenth century, as the period of the building in question. The date
of 1607,[180] cut in stone, over one of the principal doors, confirmed my
conjecture.
I now looked eagerly on all sides--observing what portions were more or
less dilapidated, and wondering at the extent and magnificence of the
building. Room after room, corridor succeeding corridor--saloons,
galleries, banquetting apartments, each and all denuded of its once
princely furniture--did not fail to strike my imagination most forcibly.
Here was the _Hall of Chivalry_, which had been rent asunder by lightning:
yonder, a range of statues of the old _Electors Counts Palatine_:--a tier
of granite columns stood in another direction, which had equally defied the
assaults of the foe and the ravages of time. In one part, looking down, I
observed an old square tower, which had been precipitated in consequence
(as I learnt) of an explosion of gunpowder. It was doubtless about a
century older than the building from which I observed it. On an eminence,
almost smothered with larch and lime, and nearly as much above ourselves as
we were from the town, stand the ruins of another old castle ... the
residence of the older Counts Palatine. The whole scene was full of
enchantment to an antiquarian traveller; and I scarcely knew how to quit
one portion of it for another.
The terrace, at the back of the castle, forms a noble and commanding walk.
Here, in former days, the counts and dukes of the empire, with all their
trains of duchesses and damoiselles, used to parade in full pomp and
magnificence, receiving the homage of their dependants, and the applause of
the townsmen. From hence, indeed, they might have looked down, in the proud
spirit of disdain, upon their vassal subjects:--or, in case of rebellion,
have planted their cannon and pulverised their habitations in a little
hour. It is hardly possible to conceive a more magnificent situation ...
but now, all is silence and solitude. The wild boar intrudes with impunity
into the gardens--and the fowls of heaven roost within those spacious
chambers, which were once hung with rich arras, or covered with gorgeous
tapestry. Scarcely three human beings ... who seem to sleep out their
existence ... are now the tenants of THAT MANSION, where once scarcely
fewer than one hundred noblemen with their attendants, found comfortable
accommodations. A powerful, and yet not unpleasing melancholy, touches the
heart ... as one moves leisurely along these speaking proofs of the
mutability of earthly grandeur.