FRANKFORT-ON-MAIN
It is time to give some information concerning the town in which the
chief events of our history will take place.
Frankfort ranks as one of the most important towns in Germany, not
merely on account of the number of its inhabitants, nor because of its
commercial standing, but by reason of the political position which it
occupies as being the seat of the Imperial Diet.
One continually hears phrases repeated until they become familiar
without the person precisely understanding the exact meaning. Let us in
a few words explain what the functions of the Imperial Diet really are.
It is the duty of the Diet to watch over the affairs of Germany in
general and to smooth down disagreements between the confederate States.
The president is always a representative of Austria. The decisions of
the assembly are called _Recesses_. The Diet, which has existed since
very remote ages, had at first no fixed seat, but was held sometimes at
Nuremberg, sometimes at Ratisbon, or at Augsbourg. Finally, June 9th,
1815, the Congress of Vienna established Frankfort as the permanent seat
of the Diet of the Germanic Confederation.
Thanks to the new constitution Frankfort has a quarter vote at the
Diet, the other three-quarters belonging to the three free towns of
Hamburg, Bremen, and Lubeck. In return for this honour, Frankfort was to
raise seven hundred and fifty men for the Germanic Confederation and
fire a salute on the anniversary of the battle of Leipzig. The execution
of this latter obligation was at first a trifle difficult, for the
reason that since 1803 Frankfort had ceased to possess ramparts, and
since 1813 had owned no cannon. But in the first moments of enthusiasm a
subscription was opened which allowed the purchase of two four-pounders,
so that since 1814, on the proper day, Frankfort has duly paid the debt
of fire and smoke owed to the Holy Alliance.
As to the ramparts, they exist no longer. Instead of old walls and muddy
ditches, Frankfort has seen the gradual formation of a charming English
garden, a gracious and perfumed enclosure, which enables one to make the
circuit of the town, while walking on the smoothest of paths and under
magnificent trees. So that, with its houses painted white, green, and
pink, Frankfort looks like a bouquet of camellias set in a border of
heather. The tomb of the mayor to whom this improvement is due stands in
the midst of a delightful labyrinth of walks, much frequented by the
burghers and their families about four or five o'clock in the afternoon.
The Teuton name Frankfort means a _free ford_, and the town owes its
origin to an imperial castle built by Charlemagne at a point where the
Namur is fordable. The first historical notice of it is the date of the
Council held there in 794, in which was discussed the question of image
worship. As to Charlemagne's palace, no trace of it can be found, but
antiquaries say that it stood where now is the Church of St. Leonard.
It must have been about 796 that Charlemagne founded the colony of
Sachsenhausen peopled by the Saxons whom he had conquered and baptized.
In 822 Louis le Debonnaire built the Sala on the site of the present
Saalhof, and in 838 Frankfort had already a court of justice and walls
of defence.
In 853 Louis the German raised it to the rank of capital of the eastern
portion of the French empire; extended its borders, and built the church
of St. Saviour close to where the autumn fair was held, in accordance
with the traders' custom of setting up their booths under the walls of
churches and temples.
The custom of electing the emperor at Frankfort was begun by that great
Swabian house whose name alone calls up a host of terrible and
melancholy recollections. In 1240 Frederic II granted letters of safe
conduct to all going to the market of Frankfort; and the Emperor Louis
of Bavaria, wishing to show gratitude for his election, proved his
attachment to the town by granting great advantages, among others the
right of holding a fair for fifteen days during Lent, which was known as
the Easter fair.
The Emperor Charles IV confirmed the right of the Imperial Election to
Frankfort by the famous Golden Bull issued in 1356. This Bull provided
the Emperor Napoleon with an opportunity for displaying his excellent
memory. Dining one day with half a score of sovereign princes, at the
meeting of Erfurth, the conversation chanced to turn on the Golden Bull,
which, until the Confederation of the Rhine, had laid down the rules for
Imperial elections. The Prince Primate, being on his own ground, gave
some details concerning the Bull, fixing the date for 1409.
"I think you are mistaken, prince," said Napoleon. "If my memory is
correct, the Bull was published in 1356 in the reign of the Emperor
Charles IV."
"Your Majesty is right," said the primate, reconsidering, "but how is
it you remember the date of a bull so exactly? Had it been a battle it
would be less wonderful."
"Shall I tell you the secret of this wonderful memory, prince?" enquired
Napoleon.
"Your Majesty would give us all much pleasure."
"Well," continued the emperor, "you must know that when I was a
sub-lieutenant in the Artillery--"
Whereupon there was so decided a movement of surprise and curiosity
among the illustrious guests that Napoleon paused an instant, but seeing
that all were waiting for him to continue, he resumed with a smile:
"I was saying that when I had the honour of being a sub-lieutenant of
Artillery I was in garrison at Valence for three years. I did not care
for society, and lived very quietly. By a lucky chance I had rooms
opposite a well-read and obliging bookseller, whose name was Marcus
Aurelius, and who gave me the run of his library. I read and re-read
everything in his shop two or three times during my stay in the capital
of the Drôme, and I remember everything I then read--even to the date of
the Golden Bull."
Frankfort continued to govern itself as a free imperial town until,
after having been bombarded by the French in the wars of the Revolution,
it was one fine day handed over by Napoleon to the Prince Primate
Charles of Dalberg, when it became the capital of the Grand Duchy of
Frankfort.
The most interesting building in Frankfort is undoubtedly the Römer, a
huge building which contains the Hall of the Electors, now used for the
sittings of the Upper Senate of Frankfort, and the Hall of the Emperors
in which the latter were proclaimed. A peculiarity of this hall, which
contains the portraits of all the emperors from Conrad to Leopold II, is
that the architect who built it made exactly as many niches as there
have been sovereigns wearing the Imperial crown. So that when Francis II
was elected, all the niches were already filled, and there was no space
found for the new Cæsar. There was much discussion as to where his
portrait could be placed, when in 1805 the ancient German empire
crumbled into dust at the noise of the cannon of Austerlitz, and the
courtiers were relieved from their difficulty. The architect had exactly
foreseen the number of emperors to come. Nostradamus himself could not
have done better.
After the town hall the most interesting place is the street of the
Jews. When the writer of these lines visited Frankfort for the first
time, some thirty years ago, there were still Jews and Austrians
there--real Jews, who hated Christians even as Shylock hated them, and
real Christians who hated Jews as did Torquemada.
This street consisted of two long rows of tall houses, black, gloomy,
sinister in aspect, closely crowded, looking as if they clung to each
other in terror. It was Saturday, which no doubt added to the gloom of
the street. Every door was closed, bastard little doors made to allow
only one person to pass at once. All the iron shutters were also closed.
No sound of voice, or step, or movement was heard; a look of anguish and
terror seemed spread over all these houses. Occasionally an old woman
with a hooked nose like an owl glided past and disappeared in a sort of
cellar or basement in this strange street. To-day all this is more
civilized and the houses have a more active and lively appearance.
The population of Frankfort consists of a historic bourgeoisie forming
the aristocracy of the Imperial town, the coronation town by right of
the Golden Bull. The chief families are those of the old nobility;
those of French extraction expatriated by the revocation of the Edict of
Nantes, and who by their intelligence and industry stand in the first
rank of society; thirdly, Italian families, in whom the feelings of race
have been stronger than religious differences, and who, although
Catholics by profession, have mingled with the French Protestants.
Finally the Jewish bankers, who naturally group themselves around the
house of Rothschild as being incontestably members of the same clan. All
are devoted to Austria, because to Austria the town owes its peculiar
position, the source of its wealth and independence, and all these
classes, though divided by race, language, and religion, are united by
their common affection for the House of Hapsburg--a love which perhaps
hardly attains to devotion, but which, in words at least, amounts to
fanaticism.
One must not omit the suburb of Sachsenhausen, situated on the other
side of the Main, the colony founded by Charlemagne. Its inhabitants,
living closely together and only marrying among themselves, have
retained some of the roughness of the old Saxon character. This
roughness, contrasted with the growing politeness among other nations,
now seems to be absolute rudeness, but rudeness which is not
intentional. They are said to be ready in the use of the somewhat harsh,
but occasionally witty retorts, wherewith the weak sometimes retaliate
upon the strong. We can give two specimens of the rough speech of the
people of Sachsenhausen.
As is usual in the month of May, owing to the melting of the snow, the
Main was in flood. The Great Elector himself came to judge of the rise
of the water, and the damage it would probably cause. Meeting a man from
Sachsenhausen:
"Well," he asked, "is the Main still rising?"
"Well, idiot that you are!" replied the individual addressed, "can't you
see that for yourself?"
And the old Saxon went on, shrugging his shoulders. One of his comrades
ran after him:
"Do you know to whom it was you spoke?" he asked.
"No, I don't."
"Well, it was the Elector of Hesse himself."
"Thunder and lightning!" exclaimed the old man, "how glad I am I
answered him civilly!"
At the play one of these honest people leaned against the man sitting in
front of him; the latter moved away:
"Am I annoying you?" demanded the aggressor, "because if it were you who
annoyed me, I should give you a punch you would remember the rest of
your life!"
Since 1815 Frankfort has been garrisoned by two detachments of fifteen
hundred to two thousand each, one Austrian, the other Prussian; the
former were much beloved; the latter equally, or even more, hated. A
Prussian officer was taking some friends to see the curiosities of
Frankfort. They arrived at the Dôme. There, among other votive
offerings, representations of hearts, hands, or feet, the sacristan
exhibited a mouse, made of silver.
"What was that for?" some one asked.
"Through the divine wrath," answered the sacristan, "a whole quarter of
Frankfort once found itself eaten up by swarms of mice. In vain they
fetched all the cats of the other quarters, all the terriers, bulldogs,
every sort of animal that can kill a mouse; the plague increased. At
last a devout lady thought of having a silver mouse made and dedicated
to the Virgin as a votive gift. At the end of a week not a mouse was to
be seen!"
And as the listeners were somewhat astonished when they heard this
legend:
"What fools these Frankforters are!" said the Prussian, "to tell tales
of that kind and believe them!"
"We tell them," said the sacristan, "but we do not believe them. If we
did we should have made a silver Prussian and offered him to the Virgin
long ago."
It is to be remembered that our friend Lenhart, Benedict's coachman, was
a citizen of the Sachsenhausen colony.