Lessing, when he was Librarian at Wolfenbüttel, proposed to start a review
which should only notice forgotten books,—books written before reviewing
was invented, published in the small towns of Germany, never read,
perhaps, except by the author and his friends, then buried on the shelves
of a library, properly labeled and catalogued, and never opened again,
except by an inquisitive inmate of these literary mausoleums. The number
of those forgotten books is great, and as in former times few authors
wrote more than one or two works during the whole of their lives, the
information which they contain is generally of a much more substantial and
solid kind than our literary palates are now accustomed to. If a man now
travels to the unexplored regions of Central Africa, his book is written
and out in a year. It remains on the drawing-room table for a season; it
is pleasant to read, easy to digest, and still easier to review and to
forget. Two or three hundred years ago this was very different. Travelling
was a far more serious business, and a man who had spent some years in
seeing foreign countries, could do nothing better than employ the rest of
his life in writing a book of travels, either in his own language, or,
still better, in Latin. After his death his book continued to be quoted
for a time in works on history and geography, till a new traveller went
over the same ground, published an equally learned book, and thus
consigned his predecessor to oblivion. Here is a case in point: Paul
Hentzner, a German, who, of course, calls himself Paulus Hentznerus,
travelled in Germany, France, England, and Italy; and after his return to
his native place in Silesia, he duly published his travels in a portly
volume, written in Latin. There is a long title-page, with dedications,
introductions, a preface for the _Lector benevolus_, Latin verses, and a
table showing what people ought to observe in travelling. Travelling,
according to our friend, is the source of all wisdom; and he quotes Moses
and the Prophets in support of his theory. We ought all to travel, he
says,—“vita nostra peregrinatio est;” and those who stay at home like
snails (_cochlearum instar_) will remain “inhumani, insolentes, superbi,”
etc.
It would take a long time to follow Paulus Hentznerus through all his
peregrinations; but let us see what he saw in England. He arrived here in
the year 1598. He took ship with his friends at _Depa_, vulgo _Dieppe_,
and after a boisterous voyage, they landed at _Rye_. On their arrival they
were conducted to a _Notarius_, who asked their names, and inquired for
what object they came to England. After they had satisfied his official
inquiries, they were conducted to a _Diversorium_, and treated to a good
dinner, _pro regionis more_, according to the custom of the country. From
_Rye_ they rode to _London_, passing _Flimwolt_, _Tumbridge_, and
_Chepsted_ on their way. Then follows a long description of London, its
origin and history, its bridges, churches, monuments, and palaces, with
extracts from earlier writers, such as Paulus Jovius, Polydorus Vergilius,
etc. All inscriptions are copied faithfully, not only from tombs and
pictures, but also from books which the travellers saw in the public
libraries. Whitehall seems to have contained a royal library at that time,
and in it Hentzner saw, besides Greek and Latin MSS., a book written in
French by Queen Elizabeth, with the following dedication to Henry VIII.:—
“A Tres haut et Tres puissant et Redoubte Prince Henry VIII. de ce
nom, Roy d’Angleterre, de France, et d’Irlande, defenseur de la
foy, Elizabeth, sa Tres humble fille, rend salut et obedience.”
After the travellers had seen St. Paul’s, Westminster, the House of
Parliament, Whitehall, Guildhall, the Tower, and the Royal Exchange,
commonly called _Bursa_,—all of which are minutely described,—they went to
the theatres and to places _Ursorum et Taurorum venationibus destinata_,
where bears and bulls, tied fast behind, were baited by bull-dogs. In
these places, and everywhere, in fact, as our traveller says, where you
meet with Englishmen, they use _herba nicotiana_, which they call by an
American name _Tobaca_ or _Paetum_. The description deserves to be quoted
in the original:—
“Fistulæ in hunc finem ex argillâ factæ orificio posteriori dictam
herbam probe exiccatam, ita ut in pulverem facile redigi possit,
immittunt, et igne admoto accendunt, unde fumus ab anteriori parte
ore attrahitur, qui per nares rursum, tamquam per infurnibulum
exit, et phlegma ac capitis defluxiones magnâ copiâ secum educit.”
After they had seen everything in London—not omitting the ship in which
Francis Drake, _nobilissimus pyrata_, was said to have circumnavigated the
world,—they went to Greenwich. Here they were introduced into the
presence-chamber, and saw the Queen. The walls of the room were covered
with precious tapestry, the floor strewed with hay. The Queen had to pass
through on going to chapel. It was a Sunday, when all the nobility came to
pay their respects. The Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of London
were present. When divine service began, the Queen appeared, preceded and
followed by the court. Before her walked two barons, carrying the sceptre
and the sword, and between them the Great Chancellor of England with the
seal. The Queen is thus minutely described:—
“She was said (_rumor erat_) to be fifty-five years old. Her face
was rather long, white, and a little wrinkled. Her eyes small,
black, and gracious; her nose somewhat bent; her lips compressed,
her teeth black (from eating too much sugar). She had ear-rings of
pearls; red hair, but artificial, and wore a small crown. Her
breast was uncovered (as is the case with all unmarried ladies in
England), and round her neck was a chain with precious gems. Her
hands were graceful, her fingers long. She was of middle stature,
but stepped on majestically. She was gracious and kind in her
address. The dress she wore was of white silk, with pearls as
large as beans. Her cloak was of black silk with silver lace, and
a long train was carried by a marchioness. As she walked along she
spoke most kindly with many people, some of them ambassadors. She
spoke English, French, and Italian; but she knows also Greek and
Latin, and understands Spanish, Scotch, and Dutch. Those whom she
addressed bent their knees, and some she lifted up with her hand.
To a Bohemian nobleman of the name of Slawata, who had brought
some letters to the Queen, she gave her right hand after taking
off her glove, and he kissed it. Wherever she turned her eyes,
people fell on their knees.”
There was probably nobody present who ventured to scrutinize the poor
Queen so impertinently as Paulus Hentznerus. He goes on to describe the
ladies who followed the Queen, and how they were escorted by fifty
knights. When she came to the door of the chapel, books were handed to
her, and the people called out, “God save the Queen Elizabeth!” whereupon
the Queen answered, “I thanke you myn good peuple.” Prayers did not last
more than half an hour, and the music was excellent. During the time that
the Queen was in chapel, dinner was laid, and this again is described in
full detail.
But we cannot afford to tarry with our German observer, nor can we follow
him to Grantbridge (Cambridge) or Oxenford, where he describes the
colleges and halls (each of them having a library), and the life of the
students. From Oxford he went to Woodstock, then back to Oxford, and from
thence to Henley and Madenhood to Windsor. Eton also was visited, and
here, he says, sixty boys were educated gratuitously, and afterwards sent
to Cambridge. After visiting Hampton Court and the royal palace of
Nonesuch, our travellers returned to London.
We shall finish our extracts with some remarks of Hentzner on the manners
and customs of the English:—
“The English are grave, like the Germans, magnificent at home and
abroad. They carry with them a large train of followers and
servants. These have silver shields on their left arm, and a
pig-tail. The English excel in dancing and music. They are swift
and lively, though stouter than the French. They shave the middle
portion of the face, but leave the hair untouched on each side.
They are good sailors and famous pirates; clever, perfidious, and
thievish. About three hundred are hanged in London every year. At
table they are more civil than the French. They eat less bread,
but more meat, and they dress it well. They throw much sugar into
their wine. They suffer frequently from leprosy, commonly called
the white leprosy, which is said to have come to England in the
time of the Normans. They are brave in battle, and always conquer
their enemies. At home they brook no manner of servitude. They are
very fond of noises that fill the ears, such as explosions of
guns, trumpets, and bells. In London, persons who have got drunk
are wont to mount a church tower, for the sake of exercise, and to
ring the bells for several hours. If they see a foreigner who is
handsome and strong, they are sorry that he is not an
Anglicus,—_vulgo_ Englishman.”
On his return to France, Hentzner paid a visit to Canterbury, and, after
seeing some ghosts on his journey, arrived safely at Dover. Before he was
allowed to go on board, he had again to undergo an examination, to give
his name, to explain what he had done in England, and where he was going;
and, lastly, his luggage was searched most carefully, in order to see
whether he carried with him any English money, for nobody was allowed to
carry away more than ten pounds of English money: all the rest was taken
away and handed to the royal treasury. And thus farewell, Carissime
Hentzneri! and slumber on your shelf until the eye of some other
benevolent reader, glancing at the rows of forgotten books, is caught by
the quaint lettering on your back, “_Hentzneri Itin_.”
1857.