above as our neighbours, had not been remarkable during his lifetime,
in consequence of his recluse habits, but became the more remarkable
after his death, by leaving behind him a direction that common
working-men should carry him to the grave, early in the morning,
in perfect silence, and without an attendant or follower. This was
done, and the affair excited great attention in the city, where they
were accustomed to the most pompous funerals. All who discharged the
customary offices on such occasions, rose against the innovation.
But the stout patrician found imitators in all classes, and though
such ceremonies were derisively called ox-burials,[1] they came into
fashion, to the advantage of many of the more poorly-provided families,
while funeral parades were less and less in vogue. I bring forward this
circumstance, because it presents one of the earlier symptoms of that
tendency to humility and equality, which in the second half of the last
century was manifested in so many ways, from above downwards, and broke
out in such unlooked-for effects.
Nor was there any lack of antiquarian amateurs. There were cabinets of
pictures, collections of engravings, while the curiosities of our own
country especially were zealously sought and hoarded. The older decrees
and mandates of the imperial city, of which no collection had been
prepared, were carefully searched for in print and manuscript, arranged
in the order of time, and preserved with reverence, as a treasure of
native laws and customs. The portraits of Frankforters, which existed
in great number, were also brought together, and formed a special
department of the cabinets.
Such men my father appears generally to have taken as his models. He
was wanting in none of the qualities that pertain to an upright and
respectable citizen. Thus, after he had built his house, he put his
property of every sort into order. An excellent collection of maps
by Schenck and other geographers at that time eminent, the aforesaid
decrees and mandates, the portraits, a chest of ancient weapons, a case
of remarkable Venetian glasses, cups and goblets, natural curiosities,
works in ivory, bronzes, and a hundred other things, were separated and
displayed, and I did not fail, whenever an auction occurred, to get
some commission for the increase of his possessions.
[Side-note: The Senkenbergs.]
I must still speak of one important family, of which I had heard
strange things since my earliest years, and of some of whose members
I myself lived to see a great deal that was wonderful--I mean the
SENKENBERGS. The father, of whom I have little to say, was an opulent
man. He had three sons, who even in their youth uniformly distinguished
themselves as oddities. Such things are not well received in a limited
city, where no one is suffered to render himself conspicuous, either
for good or evil. Nicknames and odd stories, long kept in memory,
are generally the fruit of such singularity. The father lived at the
corner of Hare-street _(Hasengasse)_, which took its name from a sign
on the house, that represented one hare at least, if not three hares.
They consequently called these three brothers only the three Hares,
which nick-name they could not shake off for a long while. But as
great endowments often announce themselves in youth in the form of
singularity and awkwardness, so was it also in this case. The eldest
of the brothers was the _Reichshofrath_ (Imperial Councillor) von
Senkenberg afterwards so celebrated. The second was admitted into
the magistracy, and displayed, eminent abilities, which, however, he
subsequently abused in a pettifogging and even infamous way, if not to
the injury of his native city, certainly to that of his colleagues.
The third brother, a physician and man of great integrity, but who
practised little, and that only in high families, preserved even in
his old age a somewhat whimsical exterior. He was always very neatly
dressed, and was never seen in the street otherwise than in shoes and
stockings, with a well-powdered curled wig, and his hat under his arm.
He walked on rapidly, but with a singular sort of stagger, so that
he was sometimes on one and sometimes on the other side of the way,
and formed a complete zigzag as he went. The wags said that he made
this irregular step to get out of the way of the departed souls, who
might follow him in a straight line, and that he imitated those who are
afraid of a crocodile. But all these jests and many merry sayings were
transformed at last into respect for him, when he devoted his handsome
dwelling-house in Eschenheimer-street, with court, garden, and all
other appurtenances, to a medical establishment, where, in addition
to a hospital designed exclusively for the citizens of Frankfort,
a botanic garden, an anatomical theatre, a chemical laboratory, a
considerable library, and a house for the director, were instituted in
a way of which no university need have been ashamed.
Another eminent man, whose efficiency in the neighbourhood and whose
writings, rather than his presence, had a very important influence upon
me, was CHARLES FREDERICK VON MOSER, who was perpetually referred to
in our district for his activity in business. He also had a character
essentially moral, which as the vices of human nature frequently gave
him trouble, inclined him to the so-called pious. Thus, what Von
Loen had tried to do in respect to court life, he would have done
for business-life, introducing into it a more conscientious mode
of proceeding. The great number of small German courts gave rise
to a multitude of princes and servants, the former of whom desired
unconditional obedience, while the latter, for the most part, would
work or serve only according to their own convictions. Thus arose an
endless conflict, and rapid changes and explosions, because the effects
of an unrestricted course of proceeding become much sooner noticeable
and injurious on a small scale than on a large one. Many families were
in debt, and Imperial Commissions of Debts were appointed: others found
themselves sooner or later on the same road; while the officers either
reaped an unconscionable profit, or conscientiously made themselves
disagreeable and odious. Moser wished to act as a statesman and man of
business, and here his hereditary talent, cultivated to a profession,
gave him a decided advantage; but he at the same time wished to act
as a man and a citizen, and surrender little as possible of his moral
dignity. His _Prince and Servant_, his _Daniel in the Lions' Den_, his
_Relics_, paint throughout his own condition, in which he felt himself
not indeed tortured, but always cramped. They all indicate impatience
in a condition, to the bearings of which one cannot reconcile oneself,
yet from which one cannot get free. With this mode of thinking and
feeling, he was, indeed, often compelled to seek other employments,
which, on account of his great cleverness, were never wanting. I
remember him as a pleasing, active, and at the same time gentle man.
[Side-note: Klopstock's "Messiah."]
The name of KLOPSTOCK had already produced a great effect upon us, even
at a distance. In the outset, people wondered how so excellent a man
could be so strangely named; but they soon got accustomed to this, and
thought no more of the meaning of the syllables. In my father's library
I had hitherto found only the earlier poets, especially those who in
his day had gradually appeared and acquired fame. All these had written
in rhyme, and my father held rhyme as indispensable in poetical works.
Canitz, Hagedorn, Drollinger, Gellert, Creuz, Haller, stood in a row,
in handsome calf bindings, to these were added Neukirch's _Telemachus_,
Koppen's _Jerusalem Delivered_, and other translations. I had from
my childhood diligently read through the whole of these works, and
committed portions to memory, whence I was often called upon to amuse
the company. A vexatious era on the other hand opened upon my father,
when through Klopstock's _Messiah_, verses, which seemed to him no
verses, became an object of public admiration.[2] He had taken good
care not to buy this book; but the friend of the family, Councillor
Schneider, smuggled it in, and slipped it into the hands of my mother
and her children.
On this man of business, who read but little, the _Messiah_, as soon
as it appeared, made a powerful impression. Those pious feelings, so
naturally expressed, and yet so beautifully elevated, that agreeable
language, even if considered merely as harmonious prose, had so won
the otherwise dry man of business, that he regarded the first ten
cantos, of which alone we are properly speaking, as the finest Book
of Devotion, and once every year in Passion week, when he managed to
escape from business, read it quietly through by himself, and thus
refreshed himself for the entire year. In the beginning he thought to
communicate his emotions to his old friend; but he was much shocked
when forced to perceive an incurable dislike cherished against a book
of such valuable substance, merely because of what appeared to him
an indifferent external form. It may readily be supposed that their
conversation often reverted to this topic; but both parties diverged
more and more widely from each other, there were violent scenes, and
the compliant man was at last pleased to be silent on his favourite
work, that he might not lose, at the same time, a friend of his youth,
and a good Sunday meal.
It is the most natural wish of every man to make proselytes, and how
much did our friend find himself rewarded in secret, when he discovered
in the rest of the family hearts so openly disposed for his saint.
The copy which he used only one week during the year, was devoted to
us all the remaining time. My mother kept it secret, and we children
took possession of it when we could, that in leisure hours, hidden in
some nook, we might learn the most striking passages by heart, and
particularly might impress the most tender as well as the most violent
parts on our memory, as quickly as possible.
Porcia's dream we recited in a sort of rivalry, and divided between
us the mid dialogue of despair between Satan and Adramelech, who have
been cast into the Red Sea. The first part, as the strongest, had
been assigned to me, and the second, as a little more pathetic, was
undertaken by my sister. The alternate and horrible but well-sounding
curses flowed only thus from our mouths, and we seized every
opportunity to accost each other with these infernal phrases.
One Saturday evening, in winter--my father always had himself shaved
over night, that on Sunday morning he might dress himself for church
at his ease--we sat on a footstool behind the stove, and muttered our
customary imprecations in a tolerably low voice, while the barber was
putting on the lather. But now Adramelech had to lay his iron hands on
Satan; my sister seized me with violence, and recited, softly enough,
but with increasing passion:--
"Give me thine aid, I intreat thee, will worship thee, if thou requirest,
Thee, thou monster abandoned, yes thee, of all criminals blackest;
Aid me, I suffer the tortures of death, which is vengeful, eternal,
Once, in the times gone by, with a hot fierce hate I could hate thee,
Now I can hate thee no more! E'en this is the sharpest of tortures."
[Side-note: Klopstock's "Messiah."]
Thus far all went on tolerably; but loudly, with a dreadful voice, she
cried the following words:--
"How am I crushed!"
The good surgeon was startled, and emptied the lather-basin into my
father's bosom. There was a great uproar, and a severe investigation
Wis held, especially with respect to the mischief which might have
been done if the shaving had been actually going forward. In order to
relieve ourselves of all suspicious of wantonness in the affair, we
confessed our Satanic characters, and the misfortune occasioned by the
hexameters was so apparent, that they were again condemned and banished.
Thin children and common people are accustomed to transform the great
and sublime into a sport, and even a jest; and how indeed could they
otherwise abide and tolerate it?
[1] A pun upon the name of Ochsenstein.--_Trans._
[2] The _Messiah_ is written in hexameter verse.--_Trans._
THIRD BOOK.
At that time the general interchange of personal good wishes made the
city very lively on New Year's day. Those who otherwise did not easily
leave home, donned their best clothes, that for a moment they might be
friendly and courteous to their friends and patrons. The festivities at
my grandfather's house on this day were pleasures particularly desired
by us children. At early dawn the grandchildren had already assembled
there to hear the drums, oboes, clarionets, trumpets, and cornets
played upon by the military, the city musicians, and whoever else might
furnish his tones. The New Year's gifts, sealed and superscribed,
were divided by us children among the humbler congratulators, and, as
the day advanced, the number of those of higher rank increased. The
relations and intimate friends appeared first, then the subordinate
officials; even the gentlemen of the council did not fail to pay their
respects to the _Schultheiss_, and a select number were entertained in
the evening in rooms which were else scarcely opened throughout the
year. The tarts, biscuits, marchpane, and sweet wine had the greatest
charm for the children, and, besides, the _Schultheiss_ and the two
Burgomasters annually received from some institutions some article of
silver, which was then bestowed upon the grandchildren and godchildren
in regular gradation. In fine, this small festival was not wanting in
any of those things which usually glorify the greatest.
[Side-note: Occupation of Frankfort by the French.]
The New Year's day of 1759 approached, as desirable and pleasant to us
children as any preceding one, but full of import and foreboding to
older persons. To the passage of the French troops people certainly
had become accustomed, and they happened often, but they had been
most frequent in the last days of the past year. According to the
old usage of an imperial town, the warder of the chief tower sounded
his trumpet whenever troops approached, and on this New Year's day
he would not leave off, which was a sign that large bodies were in
motion on several sides. They actually marched through the city in
greater masses on this day, and the people ran to see them pass by. We
had generally been used to see them go through in small parties, but
these gradually swelled, and there was neither power nor inclination
to stop them. In short, on the 2nd of January, after a column had come
through Sachsenhausen over the bridge, through the Fahrgasse, as far
as the Police Guard House--it halted, overpowered the small company
which escorted it, took possession of the before-mentioned Guard House,
marched down the Zeil, and after a slight resistance, the main guard
were also obliged to yield. In a moment the peaceful streets were
turned into a scene of war. The troops remained and bivouacked there
until lodgings were provided for them by regular billetting.
This unexpected, and, for many years, unheard-of burden weighed heavily
upon the comfortable citizens, and to none could it be more cumbersome
than to my father, who was obliged to take foreign military inhabitants
into his scarcely finished house, to open for them his well-furnished
reception rooms, which were generally closed, and to abandon to the
caprices of strangers all that he had been used to arrange and keep
so carefully. Siding as he did with the Prussians, he was now to find
himself besieged in his own chambers by the French;--it was, according
to his way of thinking, the greatest misfortune that could happen to
him. Had it, however, been possible for him to have taken the matter
more easily, he might have saved himself and us many sad hours, since
he spoke French well, and could deport himself with dignity and grace
in the daily intercourse of life. For it was the King's Lieutenant
who was quartered on us, and he, although a military person, had only
to settle civil occurrences, disputes between soldiers and citizens,
and questions of debt and quarrels. This was the Count Thorane, a
native of Grasse in Provence, not far from Antibes; a tall, thin, stem
figure, with a face much disfigured by the small pox, black fiery eyes,
and a dignified, reserved demeanour. His first entrance was at once
favourable for the inmates of the house. They spoke of the different
apartments, some of which were to be given up, and others retained
by the family; and when the Count heard a picture-room mentioned, he
immediately requested permission although it was already night, at
least to give a hasty look at the pictures by candlelight. He took
extreme pleasure in these things, behaved in the most obliging manner
to my father who accompanied him, and when he heard that the greater
part of the artists were still living, and resided in Frankfort and its
neighbourhood, he assured us that he desired nothing more than to know
them as soon as possible, and to employ them.
But even this sympathy in respect to art could not change my father's
feelings nor bend his character. He permitted what he could not
prevent, but kept at a distance in inactivity, and the uncommon state
of things around him was intolerable to him, even in the veriest trifle.
[Side-note: Count Thorane.]
Count Thorane behaved himself meanwhile in an exemplary manner. He
would not even have his maps nailed on the walls, that he might not
injure the new hangings. His people were skilful, quiet, and orderly;
but, in truth, as during the whole day and a part of the night there
was no quiet with him, one complainant quickly following another,
arrested persons being brought in and led out, and all officers and
adjutants being admitted to his presence;--as, moreover, the Count
kept an open table every day; it made in the moderately-sized house,
arranged only for a family, and with but one open staircase running
from top to bottom, a movement and a buzzing like that in a beehive,
although everything was managed with moderation, gravity, and severity.
As mediator between the irritable master of the house, who became daily
more of a hypochondriac self-tormentor, and his well-intentioned, but
stem and precise military guest, there was a pleasant interpreter, a
handsome, corpulent, lively man, who was a citizen of Frankfort, spoke
French well, knew how to adapt himself to everything, and only made
a jest of many little annoyances. Through him my mother had sent a
representation to the Count of the situation in which she was placed,
owing to her husband's state of mind. He had explained the matter so
skilfully--had laid before him the new and scarcely furnished house,
the natural reserve of the owner, his occupation in the education
of his family--and all that could be said to the same effect, that
the Count, who in his capacity took the greatest pride in the utmost
justice, integrity, and honourable conduct, resolved here also to
behave in an exemplary manner to those upon whom he was quartered,
and, indeed, never swerved from this resolution under varying
circumstances during the several years he stayed with us.
My mother possessed some knowledge of Italian, a language not
altogether unknown to any of the family; she therefore resolved to
learn French immediately, for which purpose the interpreter, for whose
child she had stood godmother during these stormy times, and who now
therefore, as a gossip,[1] felt a redoubled interest in our house,
devoted every spare moment to his child's godmother--for he lived
directly opposite--and above all, he taught her those phrases which she
would be obliged to use in her personal intercourse with the Count.
This succeeded admirably. The Count was flattered by the pains taken by
the mistress of the house at her years, and as he had a cheerful, witty
vein in his character, and he liked to exhibit a certain dry gallantry,
a most friendly relation arose between them, and the allied godmother
and father could obtain whatever they wanted from him.
As I said before, if it had been possible to cheer up my father,
this altered state of things would have caused little inconvenience.
The Count practised the severest disinterestedness; he even declined
receiving gifts which pertained to his situation; the most trifling
thing which could have borne the appearance of bribery, he rejected
angrily, and even punished. His people were most strictly forbidden to
put the proprietor of the house to the least expense. We children, on
the contrary, were bountifully supplied from the dessert. To give an
idea of the simplicity of those times, I must take this opportunity to
mention that my mother grieved us excessively one day by throwing away
the ices which had been sent us from the table, because she would not
believe it possible for the stomach to bear real ice, however it might
be sweetened.
Besides these dainties, which we gradually learned to enjoy and to
digest with perfect ease, it was very agreeable for us children to
be in some measure released from fixed hours of study and strict
discipline. My father's ill-humour increased, he could not resign
himself to the unavoidable. How he tormented himself, my mother, the
interpreter, the councillors, and all his friends, only to rid him
of the Count! In vain they represented to him that under existing
circumstances the presence of such a man in the house was an actual
benefit, and that the removal of the Count would be followed by a
constant succession of officers or of privates. None of these arguments
had any effect. To him the present seemed so intolerable, that his
indignation prevented his conceiving anything worse that could follow.
In this way his activity, which he had been used chiefly to employ
upon us, was crippled. The lessons he gave us were no longer required
with the former exactness, and we tried to gratify our curiosity for
military and other public proceedings as much as possible, not only at
home, but also in the streets, which was the more easily done, as the
front door, open day and night, was guarded by sentries who paid no
attention to the running to and fro of restless children.
The many affairs which were settled before the tribunal of the Royal
Lieutenant had quite a peculiar charm, from his making it a point
to accompany his decisions with some witty, ingenious, or lively
turn. What he decreed was strictly just, his manner of expressing it
whimsical and piquant. He seemed to have taken the Duke of Ossuna as
his model. Scarcely a day passed in which the interpreter did not tell
some anecdote or other of this kind to amuse us and my mother. This
lively man had made a little collection of such Selomonian decisions;
but I only remember the general impression, and cannot recall to my
mind any particular case.
By degrees we became better acquainted with the strange character of
the Count. This man clearly understood his own peculiarities, and as
there were times in which he was seized with a sort of dejection,
hypochondria, or by whatever name we may call the evil demon, he
withdrew into his room at such hours, which were often lengthened into
days, saw no one but his valet, and in urgent cases could not even be
prevailed upon to receive any one. But as soon as the Evil Spirit had
left him, he appeared as before, active, mild, and cheerful. It might
be inferred from the talk of his valet, Saint Jean, a small, thin man
of lively good-nature, that in his earlier years he had caused a great
misfortune when overcome by this temper; and that therefore, in so
important a position as his, exposed to the eyes of all the world, he
had earnestly resolved to avoid similar aberrations.
[Side-note: The Frankfort Painters.]