Head-Quarters of the Moravians -- Good Buildings -- Quiet,
Cleanliness, and Order -- A Gottesdienst -- The Church --
Simplicity -- The Ribbons -- A Requiem -- The Service --
God's-Field -- The Tombs -- Suggestive Inscriptions --
Tombs of the Zinzendorfs -- The Pavilion -- The Panorama --
The Herrnhuters' Work -- An Informing Guide -- No Merry
Voices -- The Heinrichsberg -- Pretty Grounds -- The First
Tree -- An Old Wife's Gossip -- Evening Service -- A
Contrast -- The Sisters' House -- A Stroll at Sunset -- The
Night Watch.
I had seen the Moravian colony at Zeist near Utrecht, and was prepared
for a similar order of things at Herrnhut. A short distance from the
station along the high road to Zittau, and you come to a well-built,
quiet street, rising up a gentle ascent, where, strange sight in
Saxony, the footways are paved with broad stone slabs. Farther on you
come to a broad opening, where two other main streets run off, and
here the inn, _Gemeinlogis_, and the principal buildings are situate,
all substantially built of brick. Everywhere the same quietness,
neatness, and cleanliness, the same good paving, set off in places by
rows and groups of trees, and hornbeam hedges.
The innkeeper--or steward as he may be called, for he is a paid
servant of the brotherhood--told me there would be a _Gottesdienst_
(God's service) at three o'clock, and suggested my occupying the
interval with the newspapers that lay on the table. There was the
_Görlitzer Anzeiger_, published three times a week, Sunday, Tuesday,
and Thursday, four good quarto pages, for fifteen pence a quarter; and
equally cheap the _Zittauische Wochentliche Nachrichten_. But I
preferred a stroll through the village and into the spacious gardens,
which, teeming with fruit, flowers, and vegetables, stretch away to
the south, and unite with the pleasure-walks in the bordering wood.
At three I went to the church. Outside no pains have been taken to
give it an ecclesiastical look; inside it contains a spacious hall,
large enough to contain the whole community, with a gallery at each
end, and on the floor two divisions of open seats made of unpainted
fir placed opposite a dais along the wall. Whatever is painted is
white--white walls, white panelling, white curtains to the windows,
and a white organ. Something Quaker-like in appearance and
arrangement. But when a number of women came in together wearing
coloured cap-ribbons, passing broad and full under the chin, a lively
contrast was opposed to the prevailing sobriety of aspect. The colours
denote age and condition. The unmarried sisters put on cherry-red at
sixteen, and change it after eighteen for pink. The married wear dark
blue, and the widows white. Many a pretty, beaming face was there
among them, yet sedate withal.
The choir assembled on each side of a piano placed in the opening
between the benches, for the organ was undergoing a course of repair.
No practical jokes among them, as in the cathedral on the Hradschin;
but all sedate too. Presently came in from the door on the left five
dignified-looking sisters, and took their seats on one half of the
dais; then seven brethren, among whom a bishop or two, from the door
on the right, to the other half; and their leader, a tall man of
handsome, intelligent countenance, to the central seat at the desk.
The service was in commemoration of a sister whom in the morning the
congregation had followed to her resting-place in the _Gottesacker_
(God's acre). The choir stood up, all besides remaining seated, and
sang a requiem, and sang it well; for the Moravians, wiser than the
Quakers, do not cheat their hearts and souls of music. A hymn
followed, in which the whole assembly joined, the several voices
according to their part, till one great solemn harmony filled the
building. Then the preacher at the desk, still sitting, began an
exhortation, in which a testimony concerning the deceased was
interwoven with simple Gospel truth. His word and manner were alike
impressive; no passion, no whining. Rarely have I heard such ready,
graceful eloquence, combined with a clear and ringing voice. He ended
suddenly: a hymn was sung, at the last two lines of which every one
stood up, and with a few words of prayer the service was closed. It
had lasted an hour. The congregation, which numbered about three
hundred, dispersed quietly, the children walking as sedately as their
parents.
All the roads leading out of Herrnhut are pleasant avenues of
trees--limes, oaks, beech, and birch. A short distance along the one
leading to Berthelsdorf you come to a wooden arch bearing the
inscription, "Christ is risen from the dead." It is the entrance to
_God's field_; and if you turn on entering, you will see written on
the inside of the arch, "And become the firstling of them that
slept." The ground slopes gently upwards to the brow of the _Hutberg_,
divided into square compartments by broad paths and clipped limes.
Within these compartments are the graves; no mounds; nothing but rows
of thick stone slabs, each about two feet in length, by one and a half
in width, lying on the grass. All alike; no one honoured above the
rest, except in some instances by a brief phrase in addition to the
name, age, and birthplace. The first at the corner has been renewed,
that a record of an interesting incident in the history of the place
may not be lost. The inscription reads: _Christian David, the Lord's
servant, born the 31st December, 1690, at Senftleben in Moravia. Went
home the 3rd February, 1751_.
_A carpenter: he felled the first tree for the building of Herrnhut,
the 17th June, 1722._
_Went home_ and _fell asleep_ are favourite expressions occurring on
many of the stones. _A member of the Conference of Elders_ is a
frequent memorial on the oldest slabs, numbers of which are blackened,
and spotted with moss by age. There are two counts and not a few
bishops among the departed, but the same plain slab suffices for all.
The separation of the sexes is preserved even after death, some of the
compartments being reserved exclusively for women. As you read the
names of birthplaces, in lands remote, from all parts of Europe and
oversea, the West Indies and Labrador, you will perhaps think that
weary pilgrims have journeyed from far to find rest for their souls in
peaceful Herrnhut.
There is, however, one marked exception to the rule of uniformity as
regards the slabs. It is in favour of Count Zinzendorf and his wife
and immediate relatives--a family deservedly held in high respect by
the Brethren. Eight monumental tombs, placed side by side across the
central path, perpetuate the names of the noble benefactors. Of the
count himself it is recorded: _He was appointed to bear fruit, and a
fruit that yet remains_.
On the summit of the hill, beyond the hedge of the burial-ground, a
wooden pavilion is built with a circular gallery, from whence you get
a fine panoramic view of the surrounding country. The innkeeper had
given me the key, and I loitered away an hour looking out on the
prospect. Now you see the _Gottesacker_, with its fifteen formal
clipped squares, some yet untenanted, and room for enlargement; the
red roofs and white walls of the village; and beyond, the fir-topped
_Heinrichsberg_, and planted slopes which beautify the farther end of
the place. Berthelsdorf, the seat of the _Unität_, stands pleasantly
embowered at the foot of the eastern slope. You see miles of road, two
or three windmills, and umbrageous green lines thinning off in the
distance, the trees all planted by the Herrnhuters; and the fields,
orchards, and plantations that fill all the space between, testify to
the diligent husbandry of the Brethren.
Every place and prominent object within sight is indicated by a red
line notched into the top rail of the balustrade, so that, while
sauntering slowly round, you can read the name of any spire or distant
peak that catches your eye. The summits are numerous, for hills rise
on every side; among them you discover the Landskrone by Görlitz, and
the crown of the _Tafelfichte_ in the _Isergebirge_, the only one of
the mountains within sight. It is a view that will give you a
cheerful impression of Saxony.
The doorkeeper of the church had noticed a stranger, and came up for a
talk. I asked him how much of what lay beneath our eyes belonged to
the Brethren. "About two hundred acres," he answered, pointing all
round, and to an isolated estate away in the direction of Zittau;
"enough for comfort and prosperity." Once started, he proved himself
no niggard of information. To give the substance of his words: "I like
the place very well," he said, "and don't know of any discontent;
though we have at times to lament that a brother falls away from us
back into the worldly ways. Each fulfils his duty. We are none of us
idle. We have weavers, shoemakers, harness-makers, coppersmiths,
goldsmiths, workers in iron, lithographers, and artists; indeed, all
useful trades; and our workmanship and manufactures are held in good
repute. I am a cabinet-maker, and keep eight journeymen always at
work. Each one from the age of eighteen to sixty takes his turn in the
night-watch; and, night and day, the place is always as quiet as you
see it now. You don't hear the voices of children at play, because
children are never left to themselves. Whether playing or walking,
they are always under the eye of an adult, as when in school. We do
not think it right to leave them unwatched. We have service three
times every Sunday, and at seven o'clock every evening; besides
certain festivals, and a memorial service like that of this afternoon.
The preacher you heard is considered a good one: his salary is four
hundred dollars a year."
He interrupted his talk by an invitation to go and see the grounds of
the _Heinrichsberg_. As we walked along the street, I could not fail
again to remark the absence of sounds which generally inspire
pleasure. No merry laughter, accompanied by hearty shouts and quick
foot-tramp of boys at play. No running hither and thither at
hide-and-seek; no trundling of hoops; no laughing girls with
battledore and shuttlecock. I saw but two children, apparently brother
and sister, and they were walking as soberly as bishops. I should like
to know whether such a repressive system does really answer the
purpose intended; for I could not help questioning, in Goldsmith's
words, whether the virtue that requires so constant a guard be worth
the expense of the sentinel.
The _Heinrichsberg_ is behind the _Bruderhaus_ and the street leading
to Zittau. Here the fir forest, which once covered the whole hill, has
been cut down, and replaced by plantations of beech, birch, hazel, and
other leafy trees, and paths are led in many directions along the
precipitous slopes, by which you approach a pavilion erected on the
commanding point, as at the _Gottesacker_. The situation is romantic,
overhanging the brown cliffs of a stone quarry, with a view into a
deep wooded valley, spanned by the lofty railway viaduct. Here the
Brethren have shown themselves wise in their generation, and, working
with skilful hand, and eye of taste, have made the most of natural
resources, and fashioned a resort especially delightful in the sultry
days of summer.
When my communicative guide left me to attend to his duties, I
strolled up the Zittau road to the place where, in a small opening by
the wayside, stands a square stone monument, on which an inscription
records an interesting historical incident:
_On the 17th June, 1772, was
on this place for the building
of Herrnhut the first tree felled._
Ps. lxxxiv. 4.
It was cool there in the shade; and sitting down on a seat overhung by
the trees, I fell into a reverie about things that had befallen since
Christian David's axe wrought here to such good purpose. At that time
all was dreary forest; no house nearer than Berthelsdorf, and little
could the poverty-stricken refugees have foreseen such a result of
their struggle as Herrnhut in its present condition. All at once I was
interrupted by an elderly woman, who, returning to her village, sought
a rest on the plinth of the monument, and proved herself singularly
talkative. Perhaps she owed the Brethren a grudge, for she wound up
with: "Nice people, them, sir, in Herrnhut; but they know how to get
the money, sir."
About two hundred persons, mostly youthful, were present at the
evening service. The dais was occupied as before, but by a lesser
number. The preacher, the same eloquent man, gave an exposition of a
portion of the _Epistle to the Romans_, elucidating the Apostle's
meaning in obscure passages, which lasted half an hour. He then
pronounced a brief benediction, and delivered the first line of a
hymn, which was sung by all present, and, as in the afternoon, only at
the last two lines did any one stand up.
I was deeply impressed by the contrast between the two services here
in the unadorned edifice, and what I witnessed at Prague. Here no
ancient prejudice, or ancient dirt, or slovenly ritual, as in the
synagogue; but the outpouring of hope and faith from devout and
cheerful hearts. Here no showy ceremonial; no swinging of censers, or
kissing of pictures, or endless bowings and kneelings, or any of those
mechanical observances in which the worshipper too often forgets that
it has been given to him to be his own priest, and with full and
solemn responsibility for neglect of duty.
The service over, I went and asked permission to look over the
Sisters' House: I had seen the Brothers' House at Zeist. It was past
the hour for the admission of strangers; but the stewardess, as a
special favour, conducted me from floor to floor, where long passages
give access on either side to small sitting-rooms, workrooms, and one
great bedroom; all scrupulously clean and comfortably furnished. The
walls are white; but any sister is at liberty to have her own room
papered at her own cost. I saw the chapel in which the inmates
assemble for morning and evening thanksgiving;--the refectory where
they all eat together;--the kitchen, pervaded by a savoury smell of
supper;--and the ware-room in which are kept the gloves, caps, cuffs,
and all sorts of devices in needlework produced by the diligent
fingers of the sisters. There were some neither too bulky nor too
heavy for my knapsack, and of these I bought a few for sedate friends
in England.
The unmarried sisters, as the unmarried brothers, dwell in a house
apart; and as they eat together, and purchase all articles of
consumption in gross, the cost to each is but small. Two persons are
placed in authority over each house; one to care for the spiritual,
the other for the economical welfare of the inmates. There are,
besides, separate houses for widowers and widows.
As the sun went down I strolled once more to the _Gottesacker_ and
dreamt away a twilight hour on the gallery of the pavilion. As the
golden radiance vanished from off the face of the landscape, and the
stillness became yet more profound, I thought that many a heart weary
of battling with the world might find in the _Work and Worship_ of
Herrnhut a relief from despair, and a new ground for hopefulness.
When I went back to the inn I found half a dozen grave-looking
Brethren smoking a quiet pipe over a tankard of beer. We had some
genial talk together while I ate my supper; but as ten o'clock
approached they all withdrew. The doors were then fastened; and not a
sound disturbed the stillness of the night. The watchers began their
nightly duty; but they utter no cry as they go their rounds, leading a
fierce dog by a thong, while three or four other dogs run at liberty.
Should their aid be required in any house from sickness or other
causes, a signal is given by candles placed in the window.