----A wond’rous token
Of Heav’n’s kind care, with bones unbroken!
As the ingenious Soame Jenyns says of a less hazardous drive in a less
barbarous country I hope: but really to English passengers in English
carriages, the road from Prague hither is too bad to think on; while
nothing literally impels one forward except the impossibility of going
back. Lady Mary Wortley says, her husband and postillions slept upon the
precipices between Lowositz and Aussig; but surely the way must have been
much better then, as all the opium in both would scarce have stupefied
their apprehensions now, when a fall into the Elbe must either have
interrupted or finished their nap; because our coach was held up every
step of the journey by men’s hands, while we walked at the bottom about
seven miles by the river’s side, suffering nothing but a little fatigue,
and enjoying the most cloudless beautiful weather ever seen. The Elbe is
here as wide I think as the Severn at Gloucester, and rolls through the
most varied and elegant landscape possible, not inferior to that which
adorns the sides of the little Dart in Devonshire, but on a greater
scale; every hill crowned with some wood, or ornamented by some castle.
As soon as we arrived, tired and hungry, at Aussig, we put our shattered
coach on board a bark, and floated her down to Dresden; whither we drove
forward in the little carts of the country, called chaises, but very
rough and with no springs, as our very old-fashioned curricles were about
the year 1750. The brightness of the weather made even such a drive
delightful though, and the millions of geese on and off the river gave
animation to the views, and accounted for the frequency of those soft
downy feather-beds, which sooth our cares and relieve our fatigue so
comfortably every night. Hares will scarce move from near the carriage
wheels, so little apprehensive are they of offence; and the partridges
run before one so, it is quite amusing to look at them. The trout in
these great rivers are neither large nor red: I have never seen trout
worth catching since I left England; the river at Rickmansworth produces
(one should like to know why) that fish in far higher perfection than it
can be found in any other stream perhaps in Europe.
The being served at every inn, since we came into Saxony, upon Dresden
china, gives one an odd feel somehow; but here at the Hôtel de Pologne
there is every thing one can wish, and served in so grand a style, that
I question whether any English inn or tavern can compare with it; so
elegantly fine is the linen, so beautiful the porcelaine of which every
the meanest utensil is made; and if the waiter did not appear before
one dressed like Abel Drugger with a green cloth apron, and did not his
entrance always fill the room with a strong scent of tobacco, I should
think myself at home again almost. This really does seem a very charming
town; the streets well built and spacious; the shops full of goods, and
the people willing to shew them; and if they _do_ cut all their wood
before their own doors, why there is room to pass here without brawling
and bones-breaking, which disgusts one so at Vienna; it seems lighter
too here than there; I cannot tell why, but every thing looks clean and
comfortable, and one feels _so much at home_. I hate prejudice; nothing
is so stupid, nothing so sure a mark of a narrow mind: yet who can be
sure that the sight of a Lutheran town does not afford in itself an
honest pleasure to one who has lived so long, though very happily, under
my Lord Peter’s protection?
Here Brother Martin has all precedence paid _him_; for though the court
are Romanists, their splendid church here is _called_ only a chapel, and
they are not permitted to ring the bell, a privilege the Lutherans seem
much attached to, for nothing can equal the noise of _our_ bells on a
Sunday morning at Dresden.
The architecture is truly hideous, but no ornaments are spared; and the
church of Notre Dame here is very magnificent. The china steeples all
over the country are the oddest things in the world; spires of blue or
green porcelaine tiles glittering in the sun have a strange effect.
But nothing can afford a stronger proof that crucifixes, Madonnas,
and saints, need not be driven out of churches for fear they should be
worshipped, than the Lutherans admission of them into _theirs_; for no
people can be further removed from idolatry, or better instructed in the
Christian religion, than the common people of this town; where a decent
observation of the sabbath struck me with most consolatory feelings,
after living at Paris, Rome, and Florence, where it is considered as
a _merry_, not a _holy_ day at all! and though there seems nothing
inconsistent or offensive in our rejoicing on the day of our Lord’s
resurrection, yet if people are encouraged to _play_, they will soon find
out that they may _work_ too, the shops will scarcely be shut, and all
appearance of regard to the fourth commandment will be done away. The
Lutherans really seem to observe the golden mean; they frequent their
churches all morning with a rigorous solemnity, no carts or business of
any sort goes forward in the streets, public and private devotion takes
up the whole forenoon; but they do not forbear to meet and dance after
six o’clock in the evening, or play a sober game for small sums at a
friend’s house.
The society is to me very delightful; more women than men though, and the
women most agreeable; exceedingly sensible, well informed, and willing
to talk on every subject of general importance, but religion or politics
seem the favourite themes, and are I believe most studied here;--no
wonder, the court and city being of different sects, each steadily
and irrevocably fixed in a firm persuasion that their own is best,
causes an investigation that comes not in the head of people of other
countries; and it is wonderful to see even the low Romanists skilled in
controversial points to a degree that would astonish the people nearest
the Pope’s person, I am well persuaded.
The Saxons are excessively loyal however, and have the sense to love and
honour their sovereign no less for his difference of opinion from theirs,
than if all were of one mind; yet knowing his principles, they watch
with a jealous eye against encroachments, while the amiable elector and
electress use every tender method to induce their subjects to embrace
_their_ tenets, and weary heaven with prayers for their conversion, as
if the people were heathens. One great advantage results from this odd
mixture of what so steadily resists uniting; it is the earnest desire
each has to justify and recommend their notions by their practice,
so that the inhabitants of Dresden are among the most moral, decent,
thinking people I have seen in my travels, or indeed in my life. The
general air and manner both of place and people, puts one in mind of the
pretty clean parts of our London, about Queen Square, Ormond Street,
Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields, and Southampton Row.
The bridge is beautiful, more elegant than showy; the light iron railing
is better in some respects than a stone balustrade, and I do not dislike
the rule they make to themselves of going on _one_ side the way always,
and returning the other, to avoid a crowd and confusion.
But it is time to talk about the picture gallery, where, cold as
our weather is, I contrive to pass three hours every day, my feet
well defended by _perlaches_, a sort of cloth clogs, very useful and
commodious. And now I have seen the _Notte di Corregio_ from which almost
all pictures of _effect_ have taken their original idea; and here are
three other Corregios inimitable, invaluable, incomparable. Surely this
_Notte_ might stand side by side with Raphael’s Transfiguration; and
as Sherlock says that Shakespear and Corneille would look only on the
Vesuvius side of the prospect at Naples, while Pope and Racine would
turn their heads towards Posilippo; so probably, while the two first
would fasten all their attention upon the Demoniac, the two last would
console their eyes with the sweetness of Corregio’s Nativity. His little
Magdalen too set round with jewels, itself more precious than any or than
all of them, possesses wonderful powers of attraction; it is an hour
before one can recollect that there are some glorious Titians in the same
façade; but Caracci, who depends not on his colouring for applause, loses
little by their vicinity, and Poussin is always equally respectable. The
Rembrandts are beyond credibility perfect of their kind, and produce
a most powerful effect. His portrait of his own daughter has neither
equal nor price, I believe; though the girl has little dignity to be
sure, and less grace about her; but if to represent nature as she _is_
suffices, this is the first single figure in Europe as painting a _live
woman_.--The Jupiter and Ganymede is very droll indeed, and done with
very _un_-Italian notions; but the eagle looks as if one might pluck his
feathers; it is very life itself.--A candle-light Rubens here is shewn
as a prodigious rarity; a Ruysdael as much resembling nature in _his_
country, I do believe, as Claude Lorraine ever painted in _his_.--The
crayons Cupid of Mengs which dazzles, and the portrait of old Parr by
Vandycke which interests one, are pictures which call one to look at them
again and again; and the little Vanderwerfs kept in glass cases, smooth
as ivory, and finished to perfection, are all alike to be sure; one would
wonder that a man should never be weary of painting single figures so,
and constantly repeating the same idea; his eyes must have had peculiar
strength too, to endure such trials, mine have been pained enough this
morning with only looking at his labours, and those of the indefatigable
Denny. Let me refresh them with a Parnassus of Giacomo Tintoret, who puts
all the colourists to flight except Corregio.
But here are two pictures which display prodigious genius, by a master of
whom I never heard any one speak, Ferdinand Bol, who unites grace and
dignity to the clear obscure of Rembrandt, whose scholar he was. Jacob
blessing Pharoah, painted by him, is delightful; and Joseph’s expressions
while he presents his father, full of affectionate partiality and fond
regard for the old man, heightens his personal beauty; while the king’s
character is happily managed too, and gives one the highest idea of the
artist’s skill. A Madonna reposing in her flight to Egypt with a fatigued
look, her head supported by her hand, is elegant, and worthy of the Roman
or Bolognese schools; the landscape is like Rembrandt. This gallery
boasts an Egyptian Mary by Spagnolet, too terrifying to look long at; and
a small picture by Lodovico Carracci of the Virgin clasping her Son, who
lies asleep in her lap, while a vision of his future crucifixion shewn
her by angels in the sky, agitates every charming feature of her face,
and causes a shrinking in her figure which no power of art can exceed.
As I suffered so much for the sake of seeing this collection, I have
indulged myself too long in talking of it perhaps; but Garrick is dead,
and Siddons at a distance, and some compensation must be had; can any
thing afford it except the statues of Rome, and the pictures of Bologna?
here are a vast many from thence in this magnificent gallery.
We had a concert made on purpose for us last night by some amiable
friends: it was a very good one. What I liked best though, was Mr.
Tricklir’s new invention of keeping a harpsichord always in tune; and
it seems to answer. I am no good mechanic, nor particularly fond of
multiplying combinations; but the device of adding a thermometer to shew
how much heat the strings will bear without relaxation seems ingenious
enough: we had a vast many experiments made, and nobody could put the
strings out of tune, or even break them, when his method was adopted; and
it does not take up two minutes in the operation.
We have seen the Elector’s treasures; and, as a Frenchman would express
it, _C’est icy qu’on voit des beaux diamants!_[51] The yellow brilliant
ring is _unique_ it seems, and valued at an enormous sum; the green one
is larger, and set transparent; it is not green like an emerald, but pale
and bright, and beyond conception beautiful: hyacinths were new to me
here, their glorious colour dazzles one; and here is a white diamond from
the Great Mogul’s empire, of unequalled perfection; besides an onyx large
as a common dinner plate, well known to be first in the universe. What
majestic treasures are these!--The sapphires and rubies beat those of
Bavaria, but the Electress’s pearls at Munich are unrivalled yet. Saxony
is a very rich country in her own bosom it seems; the agates and jaspers
produced here are excellent, nor are good amethysts wanting; the topazes
are pale and sickly.
Nothing can be finer, or in its way more tasteful, than a chimney-piece
made for the Elector, entirely from the manufacture and produce of
his own dominions; that part which we should form of marble is white
porcelane, with an exquisite bas-relief in the middle copied from
the antique; its sides are set with Saxon gems, cameowise; and such
carnelions much amaze one in so northern a latitude; the workmanship
is beyond praise.--I asked the gentleman who shewed us the cabinet of
natural history, why such richly-coloured minerals, and even precious
stones, were found in these climates; while every animal product grows
paler as it approaches the pole?--“Where phlogiston is frequent,”
replied he, “there is no danger of the tint being too lightly bestowed:
our quantity of iron here in Saxony, gives purple to the amethysts you
admire; and see here if the rainbow-stone of Labrador yields in glowing
hue to the productions of Mexico or Malabar.”--The specimens here however
were not as valuable as the conversation of him who has the care of them;
but a _plica Polonica_ took much of my attention; the size and weight of
it was enormous, its length four yards and a half; the person who was
killed by its growth was a Polish lady of quality well known in King
Augustus’s court; it is a very strange and a very shocking thing!
Our library here is new and not eminently well stocked; but it is
too cold weather now to stand long looking at rarities. The first
Reformation bible published by Luther himself, with a portrait of the
first Protestant Elector, is however too curious and interesting to be
neglected; in frost and snow such sights might warm a heart well disposed
to see the word of God disseminated, which had lain too long locked up
by ignorance and interest united. Here is a book too, which how it
escaped Pinelli I know not, a Venetian translation of the holy scriptures
_a Brucioli_, the date 1592. King Augustus’s maps please one from their
costliness; the Elector has twelve volumes of them; every letter is gold,
every city painted in miniature at the corners, while arms, trophies, &c.
adorn the whole, to an incredible expence: they were engraved on purpose
for his use; and that no other Prince might ever have such again, he
ordered the plates to be broke.
Sunday, December 17. I am just now returned home from the Lutheran church
of Notre Dame; where, though the communicants do not kneel down like
us, it is odd to say I never saw the sacrament administered with such
solemnity and pomp. Four priests ornamented with a large cross on the
back, a multitude of lighted tapers blazing round them, a uniformity in
the dress of all who received, and music played in a flat third somehow
very impressively, as they moved round in a sort of procession, making a
profound reverence to the altar when they passed it, struck me extremely,
who have been lately accustomed to see very little ceremony used on
_such_ occasions; and I well remember at Pisa in particular, that while
we were looking about the church for curiosity, one poor woman knelt down
just by us, and a priest coming out administered the sacrament to her
alone, the whole finishing in less than five minutes I am persuaded. I
said to Mr. Seydelman, when we had returned home to-day, that the Saxons
seemed to follow the first manner in reformation, our Anglicans the
second, and the Calvinists the third: he understood my allusion to the
cant of connoisseurship.
The sedan chairs here give the town a sort of homeish look; I had not
been carried in one since I left Genoa, and it is so comfortable this
cold clear weather! A regular market too, though not a fine one, has
an English air; and a saddle of mutton, or more properly a chine, was
a sight I had not contemplated for two years and a half. The Italians
do call a cook _teologo_, out of sport; but I think he would be the
properest theologian in good earnest, to tell why Catholics and
Protestants should not cut their meat alike at least, if they cannot
agree in other points. This is the first town I have seen however, where
the butchers divided their beasts as we do.
The arsenal we have walked over delighted us but little: Saxons should
say to their swords, like Benvolio in the play, “_God send me no need of
thee!_”--for the Emperor is on one side of them, and the King of Prussia
on the other. This last is always mentioned as a pacific prince though;
and the first has so much to do and to think of, I hope he will forget
Dresden, and suffer them to possess their fine territory and gems in
perfect peace and quietness. One thing however was odd and pretty, and
worth remarking, That at Rome there was an arsenal in the church--I mean
belonging to it; and here there is a church in the arsenal.
The bombardment of this pretty town by their active neighbour Frederic;
the sweet Electress’s death in consequence of the personal mortifications
she received during that dreadful siege; the embarkation of the treasures
to send them safe away by water; and the various distresses suffered by
this city in the time of that great war;--make much of our conversation,
and that conversation is interesting. I only wonder they have so quickly
recovered a blow struck so hard.
The gaiety and good-humour of the court are much desired by the Saxons,
who have a most lofty notion of princes, and repeat all they say, and all
that is said of them, with a most venerating affection. I see no national
partiality to England however, as in many other parts of Europe, though
our religions are so nearly allied: and here is a spirit of subordination
beyond what I have yet been witness to--an aunt kissing the hand of
her own niece (a baby not six years old), and calling her “_ma chere
comtesse!_”--carried it as high I think as it can be carried.
The environs of Dresden are happily disposed, for though it is deep
winter we have had scarcely any snow, and the horizon is very clear, so
that one may be a tolerable judge of the prospects. Our river Elbe is
truly majestic and the great islands of ice floating down it have a fine
appearance.
They do not double their sash-windows as at Vienna, but there is less
wind to keep out. In every place people have a trick of lamenting, and
there are two themes of lamentation universal for aught I see--the
weather and the poor. I see no beggars here, and feel no rain,--but hear
heavy complaints of both. Crying the hour in the night as at London
pleased me much; why the ceremony is accompanied by the sound of a horn,
nobody seems able to tell. The march of soldiers morning and night to
music through the streets is likewise agreeable, and gives ideas of
security; but driving great heavy waggons up and down, with two horses
a-breast, like a chaise in England, and a postillion upon one of them, is
very droll to look at. Ordinary fellows too in the Elector’s livery (blue
and yellow) would seem strange, but that as soon as Dover is left behind
every man seems to belong to some other man, and no man to himself. The
Emperor’s livery is very handsome, but I do not admire _this_. A custom
of fifteen or twenty grave-looking men, dressed like counsellors in
Westminster Hall, with half a dozen boys in their company for _sopranos_,
singing counterpoint under one’s window, has an odd effect; they are
confraternities of people I am told, who live in a sort of community
together, are maintained by contributing friends, and taught music at
their expence; so in order to accomplish themselves, and shew how well
they are accomplished, this curious contrivance is adopted. Every Sunday
we hear them again in the church belonging to the parish that maintains
them. A procession of bakers too is a droll oddity, but shews that where
there is much leisure for the common people, some cheap amusement must
be found: two of these bakers fight at the corner of every street for
precedence, which by this means often changes hands; yet does not the
conquered baker shew any signs of shame or depression, nor does the
contest last long, or prove interesting. I suppose they have settled
all the battles beforehand: no meaning seemed to be annexed either by
performers or spectators to the show; we could make little diversion out
of it, but have no doubt of its being an old superstition.
On Christmas eve I went to Santa Sophia’s church, and heard a famous
preacher; his manner was energetic, and he kept an hour-glass by him,
finishing with strange abruptness the moment it was expired. This was in
use among our distant provinces as late as Gay’s time; he mentions it in
a line of his pastorals, and says--
He preach’d the hour-glass in her praise quite out;
speaking of dead Blouzelind as I recollect. It now seems a strange
_grossiereté_, but refinement follows hard upon the heels of reformation.
There is an agreeable fancy here, which one has always heard of, but
never seen perhaps; the notion of calling together a dozen pretty
children to receive presents upon Christmas eve. The custom is
exceedingly amiable in itself, and gives beside a pleasing pretext for
parents and relations to meet, and while away the time till supper in
reciprocating caresses with their babies, and rejoicing in that species
of happiness (the purest of all perhaps) which childhood alone can
either receive or bestow. I was invited to an exhibition of this sort,
and for some time saw little preparation for pleasure, except the sight
of fourteen or fifteen well-dressed little creatures, all under the age
of twelve I think, and more girls than boys: the company consisted of
three or four and twenty people; all spoke French, and I was directed to
observe how the young ones watched for the opening of a particular door;
which however remained shut so long, that I forgot it again, and had
begun to interest myself in chat with my nearest neighbour (no mother of
course), when the door flew wide, and the master of the house announced
the hour of felicity, shewing us an apartment gaily illuminated with
coloured lamps; a sort of tree in grotto-work adorned the middle, and the
presents were arranged all round; dolls innumerable, variously adjusted;
fine new clothes, fans, trinkets, work-baskets, little escritoires,
purses, pocket-books, toys, dancing-shoes,--every thing. The children
skipped about, and capered with exultation;--“My own mama! my dear aunt!
my sweet kind grandpapa!”--resounded wherever we turned our heads; I
think it was the loveliest little show imaginable, and am sorry to know
how description must necessarily wrong it: _les etrennes de Dresde_ shall
however remain indelibly fixed in my memory. When the pretty dears had
appropriated and arranged their presents, cake and lemonade were brought
to quiet their agitated spirits, and all went home happy to bed. Their
sparkling eyes and rosy cheeks served for our theme till supper-time;
and I sat trying, but in vain, to find a reason why paternal affection
appears so much warmer always in Protestant countries, and filial piety
in those which remain firm to the church of Rome.
We returned home to our inn exceedingly well amused; the supper had been
magnificent, and the preceding fast gave it additional relish. I now
tremble with apprehension however lest the show of yesterday was too
splendid: for if the mothers begin once to vie with each other whose
gifts shall be grandest, or if once the friend at whose house the treat
is prepared produces a more costly entertainment than his neighbours
have hitherto contented themselves with giving, this innocent and even
praiseworthy pastime will soon swell into expensive luxury, and burst
from having been poisoned by the corroding touch of malice and of envy.
Our Saxons however seemed well-bred, airy, and agreeable in last night’s
hour of festivity; and could I have fancied their gaiety quite natural
like that of Venice or Verona, I might perhaps have caught the sweet
infection, and felt disposed to merriment myself; but much of this was
studied mirth one saw, and pleasure upon principle, as in our own island;
which, though more elegant, is less attractive. It is difficult to catch
the contagion of artificial hilarity, and a celebrated surgeon once told
me, that one might live with safety at Sutton-house among the inoculated
patients, without ever taking the disorder, unless the operation were
regularly performed upon one’s self.
Well! we must shortly quit this very comfortable resting-place, and
leave a town more like our own than any I have yet seen; where, however,
the dresses, of ordinary women I mean, are extraordinary enough, each
when she is made up for show wearing a rich old-fashioned brocade cloke
lined with green lutestring, and edged round with narrow fur. This is
universal. Her neat black love-hood however is not so ugly as the man’s
bright yellow brass comb, stuck regularly in all their heads of long
straight hair who are not people of fashion; and no powder is ever used
among the Lutherans here in Saxony I see, except by gentlemen and ladies,
who often take all _theirs_ out when they go to church, from some
odd principle of devotion. It is very pretty though to see the little
clean-faced lads and wenches running to school so in a morning at every
protestant town, with the grammar and testament under their arm, while
every the meanest house has a folio bible in it, and all the people of
the lowest ranks can read it.
On this 1st of January 1787, I may boast of having visited lord
Peter, Jack, and Martin, all in the course of one day. Hearing Mons.
Dumarre preach to the French Huguenots in the morning, attending the
established church at Notre Dame at noon, and going to the Elector’s
truly-magnificent place of worship at night, where Hasse’s Te Deum was
sung, and executed with prodigious regularity and pomp, over against an
altar decorated with well-employed splendour, exhibiting zeal for God’s
house, animated by elegant taste, and encouraged by royal presence;
While from the censer clouds of fragrance roll,
And swelling organs lift the rising soul.
I studied then to keep my mind, I hope I kept it free from narrow and
from vulgar prejudice, desirous only of seeing the three principal
sects of Christians adoring their Redeemer, each in the way they think
most likely to please him; nor will I mention which method had the most
immediate effect on _me_; but this I saw, that beneath
Such plain roofs as piety could raise,
Made vocal only by our maker’s praise,
Monsieur Dumarre produced from his peaceful auditors more tears of
gratitude and tenderness in true remembrance of the sacred season,
than were shed at either of the other churches. Indeed the sublime and
pathetic simplicity of the place, the truly-touching rhetoric of the
preacher, his story a sad one; while his persecuted family were forced to
fly their native country, driven thence by the rigour of Romish severity,
and his life exactly corresponding to the purity of that doctrine he
teaches: his tones of voice, his tranquillity of manners,
His plainness moves men more than eloquence,
And to his flock, joy be the consequence!
The established sect here--_Lutheranism_, keeps almost the exact medium
between the other two, though their places of worship strike me as
something more theatrical than one could wish; very stately they are
certainly, and very imposing. As few people however are fond of a
middle state, as here is prodigious encouragement given by the court
to Romanists, and full toleration from the state to the disciples of
John Calvin, I wonder more members of the national church do not quit
her communion for that of one of these chapels, which however owe their
very existence in Saxony to that truly christian and catholick spirit of
toleration, possessed by Martin alone.
We have recovered ourselves now from all fatigues; our coach and our
spirits are once more repaired, and ready to set out for