BLACKWOOD'S
EDINBURGH MAGAZINE.
NO. CCCXCVII. NOVEMBER, 1848. VOL. LXIV.
CONTENTS.
A GLIMPSE AT GERMANY AND ITS PARLIAMENT, 515
SATIRES AND CARICATURES OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY, 543
A PARCEL FROM PARIS, 557
LIFE IN THE "FAR WEST." PART THE LAST, 573
THE LATE GEORGE FREDERICK RUXTON, 591
THE NAVAL WAR OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION, 595
DANUBE AND THE EUXINE, 608
THE MEMOIRS OF LORD CASTLEREAGH, 610
A CALL, 625
WHAT IS SPAIN ABOUT? 627
CONSERVATIVE UNION, 632
EDINBURGH:
WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, 45, GEORGE STREET;
AND 37, PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON.
_To whom all Communications (post paid) must be addressed._
SOLD BY ALL THE BOOKSELLERS IN THE UNITED KINGDOM.
PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, EDINBURGH.
BLACKWOOD'S
EDINBURGH MAGAZINE.
NO. CCCXCVII. NOVEMBER, 1848. VOL. LXIV.
A GLIMPSE AT GERMANY AND ITS PARLIAMENT.
We are not old enough to have been politically detained at Verdun.
Our impressions of Napoleon are soured by no recollections of
personal tyranny; and though a near relative wasted the better
portion of his life in the dreary enjoyments of that conventional
fortress, we do not carry the spirit of clanship so far as to
entertain on that account a revengeful hatred towards the memory of
the Corsican. At the same time, it must be confessed that, towards
the latter part of this past August, the idea of Verdun more than
once recurred unpleasantly to our mind. It became clear to us that,
for this year at least, there was little probability of our realising
certain visions of Highland sport which had been called up by a
perusal of the exciting work of the Stuarts. Her Majesty was coming
down to Balmoral, and, in consequence, the red deer of Aberdeenshire
were safe, at least from a private rifle. The grouse, with a degree
of obstinacy truly irritating, had again failed, and we were little
disposed to levy war against the few and feeble remaining broods
of the cheepers. The Duke of Sutherland, with a just economy, had
shut up his rivers, and given the salmon a jubilee; so that there
was no hope of throwing a fly on the surface of the Shin or the
Laxford. On the other hand, there seemed to be plenty of sport, and
no want of shooting on the Continent. Licences were not required,
and restrictive seasons unknown. The odour of gunpowder was distinct
in Paris as early as the month of February; and ever since then
there had been occasional explosions and discharges all over the
face of Europe. True, a _garde mobile_, or a gentleman in a blouse,
especially when provided with a rusty detonator and bayonet, is an
awkward kind of sportsman to encounter. Barricades may be curious
structures to inspect; but it is not pleasant to be on either side of
them when the Red Republic is in question; and still more ungenial
to be placed exactly in the centre, as once occurred to a worthy
bailie of our acquaintance, who, having been sent to Paris in 1830,
on a special mission to fetch home some stray voters for an impending
election in the west, found, to his intense horror, that the
diligence in which he was located was built up as a popular defence;
that the bullets were whistling through the windows; and that even
his patron, St Rollox, seemed deaf to his intercessions for rescue.
But as we do not happen to hold stock in the French lines, and
therefore have not thought it necessary, as yet, to identify
ourselves with any of the parties who are presently contending
for the palm of mastery in France; as the crusade under the white
flag or the oriflamme in favour of the descendant of Saint Louis
has not yet been openly proclaimed or enthusiastically preached by
any bearded representative of Peter, the Miraculous Hermit; and
as, moreover, we had seen quite enough of France in her earliest
stages of paroxysm, and had no wish to behold the professors of the
vaudeville and palette engaged, in the present dearth of money, at
the novel occupation of cobbling shoes for the Sardinian soldiery
in the _ateliers nationaux_--we resolved to abstain from Paris in
the meantime, and rather to bend our steps towards Germany, then in
the full ferment of the Schleswig Holstein affair. Germany has been
an old haunt of ours from our boyhood. So far back as 1833, we had
the pleasure of witnessing a tight little skrimmage between the
Heidelberg students and the soldiery in the square of Frankfort; and
since that time we have watched with great interest the progress
of the arts, literature, and sciences, and the development of the
interior resources of the country. Right sorry were we, though not
altogether surprised, to learn that quiet Germany had lighted her
revolutionary pipe from the French insurrectionary fires; that
Mannheim, Heidelberg, and Hanau, those notorious nests of democracy,
had succeeded in perverting the minds of many throughout the circle
of the Rhenish provinces; and that studentism, once comparatively
harmless, had become utterly rampant throughout the land. For
although we never could, even in our earlier years, take any deep
pleasure in cultivating the society of the Burschenschaft, but,
on the contrary, rather regarded them as a race to be eschewed by
all who had a wholesome reverence for soap and a horror for the
Kantean philosophy, we were not unpleased at the national spirit
which they exhibited long ago; and more than once, in the vaults of
the _Himmels-leiter_ and _Jammerthal_, at Nuremberg, we have joined
cordially in the chorus of defiance to French aggression--
'Sie sollen ihn nicht haben
Den Deutschen freien Rhein!'
That Germany, under her peculiar constitution, should retain her
own, and that the boundaries should be strictly preserved, seemed
to us a highly proper, laudable, and patriotic sentiment; but, when
the Teutonic youth went further, and demanded an immediate return to
the mediæval system, and the glorious times of the Empire, we must
confess that their aspirations seemed to us to savour slightly of
insanity. We are, constitutionally, an admirer of the ancient times.
We do not think that people are happier, or wiser, or better, or
that they fulfil one whit more conscientiously their duties to God
and man, when cooped up and collected within the dingy alleys of a
commercial town, instead of treading the free soil which gave their
fathers birth. We are not especially affected to the over-increase of
factories, neither would we award an ovation to any one for breeding
up human beings expressly for the production of calico. But not, on
that account, would we willingly recur to the days of the forays and
the raids. We don't want to see the clans reintegrated, the philabeg
on every hip, and the hills covered with caterans, each ettling at
his skian-dhu. We have no desire to cross the Border of moonlight
night at the head of a score of jackmen, and, _more majorum_,
regale our ears with the lowing of the Northumbrian kine. We do not
consider such a feat necessary, simply because a remote ancestor
was afflicted with too earnest a desire for the improvement of his
patrimonial breed of cattle, and, having been unluckily found on
the wrong side of the Tweed, died, like a poet as he was, with some
neck-verses in his mouth, at a place denominated Hairibee. But our
German friends--more especially the students--have long been haunted
by some such ideas. _The Robbers_ of Schiller, and the _Goetz von
Berlichingen_ of Goëthe, have had a poisonous effect upon the fancy
or fantasy of the young. They have long been dreaming of doublets,
boots, and spurs, and it needed but a little thing to set them
utterly crazy. Their modern school of painting has for years been
even more mediæval than their literature; and what the poets began,
Schnorr and Cornelius have been rapidly bringing to a head. No one
who is intimate with the German character, will lightly undervalue
the effect of such a popular sentiment, when an actual opportunity
for outbreak is afforded in revolutionary times.
This feeling, absurd as it is, has been greatly favoured and fostered
by the infinitesimal division of Germany at the Treaty of Vienna,
and the maintenance as sovereignties of small states, which ought
long ago to have been remorselessly absorbed. By that settlement
Germany was declared to consist of no less than thirty-eight separate
and independent states, with no other tie of union than an annual
diet at Frankfort. Previous to the Revolutionary wars, there were
actually about three hundred sovereign rulers in Germany, each of
whom might have worn a crown, if he could only have found money
enough to buy one. This was a miserable farce and a caricature, and
it could not possibly last. The King of Man was a powerful potentate
in comparison with some of these autocrats; and if there had been a
royal house of Benbecula, the crown-prince of that insular Eden would
have been a proper match for the daughter of their sublime Highnesses
of Fugger-Kirchberg-Weisenborn, or Salm-Reifferscheid-Krautheim. The
French invasion blew away a crowd of these little sovereigns, like
mites from the surface of a cheese; but, very unfortunately, a tithe
of them were permitted to clamber back. Some of the larger German
states thought to fortify their position, and to obtain an ascendency
in the Diet, by maintaining several of the minor principalities
intact, and, in return, commanding their votes. Hence the retention
as sovereign princedoms of the three Anhalts, the two Schwartzbergs,
the two Hohenzollerns, the two houses of Reuss, the two Lippes,
Waldeck, Lichtenstein, and Homburg--territories, the outlines of
which you can hardly discover on an ordinary map of Europe, or even
on one of Germany. These are the instances which we think the most
objectionable and absurd, but the case of several others is not much
better. For example, there are four sovereign Saxe Duchies, besides
the kingdom of Saxony proper.
Thirty-eight, then, were preserved by the Congress of Vienna,
whereas, for the sake of stability, there should not have been more
than five. The remaining German states might have been absorbed, as
were many more, into Austria, Prussia, Saxony, Bavaria, and Hanover;
and, in this way, power would have been consolidated, a balance
preserved, and entire centralisation avoided. Instead of which, for
more than thirty years there has been a constellation of princes
and of petty courts throughout Germany, to its infinite detriment
and discredit. Magnificent Lichtenstein, with a territory of two
square miles, and about five thousand subjects, takes rank with
imperial Austria; and Henry, styling himself the twenty-second of
Reuss-Lobenstein and Ebersdorf, has as good a patrimonial sceptre as
Frederick-William of Prussia. Out of all this, what could arise save
endless wrangling and confusion?
The smaller states, especially those which border on the Rhine,
gradually became the acknowledged hotbeds of sedition. It was there
that the expatriated journalists and crack-brained patriotic poets
sought refuge, when their articles, pamphlets, and ditties, became
too strong for the stomach of the legitimate censor; and there they
have been for years hatching treason upon unaddled eggs. The old
influence exercised by France over the Rhenish Confederation has
never utterly decayed. Each fresh insurrectionary leap in Paris
has been followed by a convulsive movement in the western Germanic
princedoms; and no pains have been spared for the dissemination of
the republican propaganda. Even this evil might have been checked,
had Austria and Prussia acted in unison and good faith towards each
other; but, unfortunately for Europe, the policy of the latter power
has always been of the most tortuous and deceptive kind. Prussia,
raised to and maintained in the first class of European states,
solely on the strength of her military armament, and jealous of
the superior strength of her southern rival, has for many years
been engaged in intrigues with the minor states, for the purpose of
securing to herself an independent position, in the event of the
dissolution of the great German confederation. Unable to obtain
her object through a legitimate supremacy in the Diet, Prussia has
gradually withdrawn from the proceedings of the Federal Congress,
and apparently surrendered to Austria the command of that feeble
body. But by means of the Zollverein, or Commercial League--a scheme
which she maturely prepared and perseveringly pursued--Prussia had
contrived to secure the adhesion of fully three-fourths of the
Germanic states--thus expecting to constitute herself a protectorate
in reality, if not in name, and to set the authority of the Diet at
absolute defiance.
In England, where very little is known of the secret springs of
continental diplomacy, the Zollverein was regarded as a mere
commercial measure. It was, in reality, nothing more than a
preparation for the coming crisis, in the course of which, as
Prussia fondly hoped, Germany might be rent asunder, and the larger
portion of the spoil accrue naturally to her share. As if to make
the distinction between herself and Austria more apparent, Prussia
began to affect liberalism in a remarkable degree. Her talk was of
constitutions on the broadest basis; and her king was, in words
at least, a Quixote in the cause of freedom. But words, however
skilfully uttered, cannot, in the total absence of action, deceive
a people long. The king of Prussia's promises were not a whit more
fruitful than the prophecies of the free-traders, who told us of an
immediate millennium. The censorship of the press was maintained
as stringently as ever, and no concession was made to the popular
demands, naturally stimulated to excess by this show of liberality on
the part of the sovereign.
At the commencement of the present year, the affairs of Germany
were thus singularly complicated. Austria stood alone on the basis
of her old position, as an absolute and paternal monarchy, refusing
all innovation. Prussia appeared to favour liberal institutions,
but delayed to grant them--professed her willingness to take the
lead in a new era of Germany, but gave no guarantee for her faith.
In consequence, she was not trusted by the revolutionist party in
the south and west, who, having altogether got the better of their
princes, were determined, on the very first opportunity, to try their
hands at the task of regenerating the whole of Germany. Central
authority there was none, for the Diet, deserted and disregarded by
Prussia, had sunk into utter insignificance, and hardly knew what
function it was still entitled to perform.
At the tocsin of the French revolution, the south-west of Germany
arose. The princes bordering on the Rhine had long been aware
that they were quite powerless in the event of any general
insurrectionary movement, and, accordingly, they were prepared,
without any hesitation, to grant constitutions by the score, whenever
their bearded subjects thought fit, in earnest, to demand them. A
constitution is a cheap thing, and, to a princely proprietor of
limited means, who needed no seven-league boots to traverse the
circle of his dominions, must be infinitely better than forfeiture.
Baden began the dance. The Grand-duke made no difficulty in granting
to his loving liegemen whatever they were pleased to require. The
last of the Electors--he of Hesse-Cassel--was equally accommodating;
and, in such circumstances, it would have been madness for the
King of Wurtemberg to refuse. In Bavaria, the government attempted
to make a stand; but it was of no use. The late king, one of the
most accomplished of dilettantes, worst of poets, and silliest of
created men, had latterly put the coping-stone to a life of folly,
by engaging, though a prospective saint of the Romish calendar, in a
most barefaced intrigue with the notorious Lola Montes. The indecency
and infatuation of this last _liaison_, far more openly conducted
than any of his former numerous amours, had given intense umbrage,
not only to the people, but to the nobility, whom he had insulted by
elevating the _ci-devant_ opera-dancer to their ranks. Other causes
of offence were not wanting; so that poor Ludwig, though the best
judge of pictures in Europe, was forced to give in, and surrender his
dignity to his son. Then rose Nassau and Frankfort, Saxony and Saxe
Weimar, and what other small states we wot not.
Constitutions became as plenty in the market as blackberries; indeed,
rather too much so, for at last there was a sort of glut. If the
Germans had merely desired freedom of the press, trial by jury,
burgher-guards, and the repeal of exceptional laws, the gift was
ready for them; but they wanted something more, which the separate
sovereigns could not give. In the midst of the haze of revolution,
the popular eye was fixed upon a dim phantom of German unity--upon
the eidolon of old Germania, once more compact and reunited. True,
the old lady had been laid in her grave long before any of the
present generation were born, not in the fulness of her strength,
but after a gradual decay of atrophy. This, however, was a sort of
political resurrection; for there she, or her image, stood, comely as
in her best days, and clothed in mediæval attire. The dreams of the
students seemed to be in the fair way of accomplishment, and a loud
shout of "_Germania soll leben!_" arose from the banks of the Rhine.
At Heidelberg, on the 5th of March, an assembly of the German
notables was held. This was a self-constituted congress of
fifty-one persons, and represented eight states, in rather singular
proportions; for while the duchy of Baden contributed no less than
twenty-one members, Wurtemberg nine, and Hesse-Cassel six, Austria
was represented by one individual, and Rhenish Prussia by four.
These gentlemen passed resolutions to the effect that Germany
should become one and united; that her safety lay in herself, and
not in alliance with Russia; and that the time had arrived for the
assemblage of a body of national representatives. In the list of the
parties so gathered together, we find the honoured names of Hecker
and of Struve: the star of Von Gagern of Darmstadt was not yet in the
ascendant. After having delegated to a committee of seven the task of
preparing the basis of a German parliament, this meeting separated,
to assemble again with others on the 30th of March at Frankfort, in
the character of a legislative body.
Although insurrectionary symptoms had been shown at Cologne and
Dusseldorf--both of them especially black-guard places--Prussia
remained tolerably quiet for a week after constitutions were
circulating like currency on the Rhine. But on the 13th the storm
burst both at Berlin and Vienna. Austria did little more than shrug
her shoulders and submit. Prince Metternich, the oldest statesman
of Europe, and the man most personally identified with the ancient
system, was the main object of popular obloquy; and the master
whom he had served so long and so well was physically incapable of
defending him. The Archduke John espoused the popular side, and
the result was the self-exile of the Prince. The King of Prussia
remained true to his original character of charlatan. First of all,
his troops fired upon the mob; then came a temporising period and a
public funeral, spinning out time, until the result of the Vienna
insurrection was known; and at last Frederick-William appeared
to astonished Europe in the character of the great regenerator
of Germany, and as candidate for the throne of the Empire. The
impudence of the address which he issued upon the memorable 18th of
March, absolutely transcends belief; and that document, doubtless,
will remain to posterity, to be marked as one of the most singular
instances on record of royal confidence in public sottishness and
credulity. Here is a short bit of it; and we are sure the reader will
agree with us in our estimate of the character and sincerity of the
august author:--
"We believe it right to declare before all--not only before
Prussia, but before Germany, if such be the will of God, and
before the whole united nation, what are the propositions which we
have resolved to make to our German confederates. Above all, we
demand that Germany be transformed from a confederation of states
into a federal state. We admit that this implies a recognisation
of the federal constitution, which cannot be carried into effect
save by the union of the princes with the people. In consequence,
a temporary federal representation from all the states of Germany
must be formed, and immediately convoked. We admit that such
a federal representation renders constitutional institutions
necessary in the German States, in order that the members of that
representation may sit side by side, with equal rights. We demand
a general military system of defence for Germany, copied, in its
essential parts, from that under which our Prussian armies have
won unfading laurels, in the war of liberation. We demand that the
German army shall be united under one single federal banner, and
we hope to see a federal general-in-chief at its head. We demand a
German federal flag, and we hope that, in a short time, a German
fleet will cause the German name to be respected on neighbouring
and on distant seas. We demand a German federal tribunal, to
settle all political differences between the princes and their
estates, as also between the different German governments. We
demand a common law of settlement for all natives of Germany,
and perfect liberty for them to settle in any German country. We
demand that, for the future, there shall be no barriers raised
against commerce and industry in Germany. We demand a general
Zollverein, in which the same measures and weights, the same
coinage, the same commercial rights, shall cement still more
closely the material union of the country. We propose the liberty
of the press, with the same guarantees against abuses for every
part of Germany. Such are our propositions and wishes, the
realisation of which we shall use our utmost efforts to obtain."
It certainly is to be regretted, for his own sake, that the King of
Prussia, if he really had the above projects thoroughly at heart,
did not announce them a little sooner. Had he done so, there could
have been no mistake about the matter; and he can hardly plead want
of opportunity. But to delay the annunciation of the above sweeping
scheme until the French revolution had given an impulse to the
turbulent population of the Rhenish states--until constitutions had
been every where granted--until the foundations of a German National
Assembly had been laid--until Austria was paralysed by domestic
insurrection--and finally, until Berlin itself had been in temporary
possession of the mob--does most certainly expose his Majesty of
Prussia to divers grave insinuations affecting his probity and his
honour. Sir Robert Peel, in like manner, told us that, for several
years, he had been secretly preparing matters for the repeal of the
corn-laws. We believe in the admitted treachery; but what shall
we say to the occasion which caused it to be developed? Simply
this, that in both cases there was an utter want of principle. The
King of Prussia, like Peel, thought that he perceived an admirable
opportunity of obtaining power and popularity, by not only yielding
to, but anticipating, the democratic roar; and, in consequence, he
has shared the fate which, even on this earth, is awarded to detected
hypocrites. The south-west of Germany looked coldly on this new ally.
The democratic leaders, however wild in their principles, were, after
their own fashion, sincere; and they had no idea of intrusting the
modelment of their new government to such exceeding slippery hands.
Accordingly, the Frankfort Assembly met, discussed, and quarrelled,
fixed upon a basis of universal suffrage, and summoned together, of
their own authority, though not without recognition of the princes,
the first German Parliament, of which more anon. In the mean time,
valorous Hecker and sturdy Struve, choice republicans both, had
hoisted the red banner in Baden, but were somewhat ignominiously
routed. The Parliament finally met, annihilated the Diet, and
resolved that the provisional central power of Germany should
be vested in a Reichsverweser, or Administrator of the Empire,
irresponsible himself, but with a responsible ministry; and--no doubt
to the infinite disgust of Frederick-William of Prussia, who was
not even named as a candidate--the choice of the Assembly fell upon
Archduke John of Austria, who, as we have already seen, had embraced
the popular side, and forced on, at Vienna, the deposition of the
venerable Metternich.
The Reichsverweser was not summoned to occupy a bed of roses.
Nominally, he was constituted the most powerful man in the whole
German confederation, the sovereign of an emperor, and the controller
of divers kings, princes, grand-dukes, electors, and landgraves.
In reality he was nobody. Universal suffrage and empire are things
which can hardly exist together; and it very soon appeared that
the motive power, whatever that might be, was exclusively in the
hands of the six hundred and eighty-four individuals who occupied
the church of Saint Paul. To chronicle their doings is not the
object of the present paper. It may be sufficient to remark that the
first stumbling-block in the way of German unity was to discover
the limits of what properly might be denominated Germany. On this
point there were many strange and conflicting opinions. Some were
for incorporating every possession which had fallen under the rule
of any German house,--in which case, Hungary, Lombardy, and part of
Poland, would have fallen under the protection of Frankfort. Some,
with more classical tastes, were desirous of extending their claim
to every country which at any time had been under Teutonic rule,--in
which case, Palestine and Sicily, if not Italy, would fall to be
annexed, and the shadow of the Empire be thrown as far as the Euxine,
on the strength of the ancient tradition that Ovid, in his exile at
Pontus, had studied the German language and composed German poetry.
The map of Europe afforded no solution of the difficulty. There had
been cessions, and clippings, and parings innumerable during the
last century and a half. Limburg had been annexed to Holland, and
Schleswig was clearly under the dominion of Denmark. In this position
the Germans committed the enormous folly of adopting the cause of the
Schleswig malcontents, and of plunging, before their own house was
set in order, into the dangers of a European war.
Having proceeded thus far in the exposition of German affairs, we
now cede the narrative to our excellent friend Dunshunner, who,
with characteristic kindness, accompanied us in this expedition.
Notwithstanding some few omissions, such as that of entirely
forgetting to muniment himself with letters of credit, we found him a
very agreeable companion. He was perfectly acquainted with Frankfort
and elsewhere, and, we suspect, better known than trusted throughout
the valley of the Rhine. On looking over his notes, we observe that,
with his usual devotedness, he has entirely dispensed with any notice
of our existence--a circumstance which we are the more ready to
pardon, as it relieves us from the necessity of pledging ourselves
to the minute accuracy of his statements. But whatever ingredient of
fiction there may be in his dialogue, this at least is certain, that
as a general picture it is true.
No man--says Dunshunner--who has this year visited Germany, could
believe that it is the same country which he knew in the days of its
tranquillity. In former times, the tourist, if his opinions happened
to be extra liberal, or slightly savouring of republicanism, would
have done well to abstain from proclaiming them over loudly in the
streets. I have myself seen a dirty Frenchman, of the propaganda
school, ceremoniously conducted from the hotel to the guard-house
of Mayence, by a couple of armed police, in consequence of a tirade
against royalty; and I recollect that, for some time afterwards,
there was considerable speculation as to the place of his ultimate
destination. Now, the danger lies the other way. The more radicalism
you can muster up, the better you will be appreciated in such cities
as Cologne and Frankfort,--the former of which places, if I had my
will, should be deliberately devoted without mercy to the infernal
gods. Always a nest of rascality and filth, Cologne now presents an
appearance which is absolutely revolting. Its streets are swarming
with scores of miscreants in blouses, belching out their unholy
hymns of revolution in your face, and execrating aristocracy with a
gusto that would be refreshing to the soul of Cuffey. The manners
of the people even in the hotels, which I was glad to find nearly
deserted, are rude and ruffianly in the extreme. The very waiters
seem impressed with the idea that civility is a failing utterly
inconsistent with the dignity of regenerated patriots; and they take
such pains to show it that I could well understand the apprehensions
of a timorous countryman, who confessed to me in the steam-boat that
he had been so alarmed at the threatening aspect of a democratic
_kellner_ as to take the precaution of locking himself up in his
bed-room, lest haply, in the course of the night, his weazand should
be made an offering to Nemesis, and his watch and purse transferred
upon the communist principle.
The traveller who, this year, passed for the first time from Belgium
into Germany, must have been deeply impressed with the marked
difference between the manners of the two people. In Belgium all is
tranquillity, order, and apparent ease. Neither in the towns nor in
the country is there discernible the slightest trace of disaffection
or turbulence. Citizens and peasantry are pursuing their usual
avocations in peace, and the contentment which reigns throughout
bears testimony to the blessings of a firm and prudent government.
But the instant the boundary is passed, you are immediately and
painfully reminded that you have left a land of order, and entered
into one of anarchy. Instead of the quiet civil Belgian traders
and _negociants_, the carriages on the railway--especially the
third class, which I invariably preferred for the sake of enjoying
the full flavour of democratic society--are crowded with every
imaginable species of pongo pertaining to the liberal creed. Your
ears are filled with a gush of guttural jargon, in which the words
_einigkeit_, _despotismus_, and _unabhängigkeit_ prodigiously
preponderate; and ever and anon some canorous votary of freedom
shouts out a stave of a song, constructed upon any thing but
constitutional principles. The first feature which strikes you in the
male portion of the population is, the preposterous length of their
beards. Formerly the Germans used to shave; at least they kept their
chins reasonably clean, and if they cultivated any extra capillary
growth, reserved their care for their mustache. Now every one of them
has a beard like a rabbi, and to use razors is considered the sure
and infallible sign of a loyalist and an aristocrat. At Juliers I had
the pleasure of encountering the first specimen of Young Germany that
crossed my path, and a precious object he was. I had been sitting for
some time _vis-a-vis_ with a little punchy fellow from Vienna, with a
beard as red as that which the old masters have assigned to Barabbas;
and as he spoke little, but smoked a great deal, I was inclined to
think him rather a companionable sort of individual than otherwise.
But, at the station, in stepped a youth apparelled precisely after
the fashion of an assassin in a melodrama. His broad beaver hat, with
a conical crown, was looped up at one side, garnished with an immense
cockade of red, black, and gold, and surmounted by a couple of dingy
ostrich feathers. I lament, for the sake of our home manufactures,
to state that he exhibited no symptom of shirt-collar; nor, so far
as I could observe, had he invested any portion of his capital in
the purchase of interior linen. Over his bare neck there descended
a pointed Maximilian beard. A green blouse, curiously puckered and
slashed on the sleeves, was secured round his person by a glazed
black belt and buckle, and his legs were cased in a pair of rusty
Hessians. In short, he needed but a dagger and a brace of pistols
to render him theatrically complete; and had Fitzball been in the
carriage, the heart of that amiable dramatist would assuredly have
yearned within him at the sight of this living personification of
his own most romantic conceptions. I had forgotten to state that the
patriot had slung by his side a wallet, of the sort which is familiar
to the students of Retzsch, in which he carried his tobacco.
To my amazement, nobody, not even the gens-d'armes on the platform,
appeared to be the least surprised at this formidable apparition,
who commenced filling his pipe with the calmness of an ordinary
Christian. For my own part, I could not take my eyes off him, but
sate speechlessly staring at this splendid specimen of the Empire.
Nor was it long before he thought fit to favour us with his peculiar
sentiments. Some sort of masonic sign was interchanged between
the new comer and Barabbas, and the former instantly burst forth
into a lecture upon the political prospects of his country. It has
been my fortune to hear various harangues, from the hustings and
elsewhere--and I have even solaced my soul with the outpourings of
civic eloquence--but never was it my fortune to hear such a discourse
upon constitutions as that pronounced by this interesting stranger.
The total demolishment of thrones, the levelling of all ranks, the
abolition of all religions, and the partition of property, were the
themes in which he revelled; and, to my considerable surprise and
infinite disgust, the punchy Viennese assented to one and all of
his propositions. Some remark which I was rash enough to hazard,
impugning the purity of the doctrines professed by the respectable
Louis Blanc, drew upon me the ire of both; and I was courteously
informed, in almost as many words, that freedom, as understood in
Britain, was utterly effete and worn out,--that Germany was fifty
years in advance of the wretched island,--and that, when the German
fleet was fairly launched upon the ocean, satisfaction would be taken
for divers insults which it did not seem convenient to specify.
It is, of course, utterly out of the question to reason with
maniacs, else I should have been very glad to know why these new
republicans entertained such a decided hatred of England. One can
perfectly well understand the existence of a similar feeling among
the French,--indeed, abuse of our nation is the surest topic to win
applause from a Parisian audience, and it has been, and will be,
employed as the last resource of detected patriots and impostors.
But why Young Germany should hate us, as it clearly does, is to me a
profound enigma. During the Revolutionary wars, we allowed ourselves
to be plundered and subsidised in support of the freedom which the
Germans could not maintain. Prussia, after taking our money, most
infamously went over to France, and laid her clutches upon Hanover.
We forgave the aggression and the treachery, and still continued to
lavish our gold and our blood in their defence, performing, up to
the close of the struggle, the part of a faithful and by far too
generous ally. Notwithstanding all this, which is clearly written in
history, the fact is certain, that every one of these revolutionists
devoutly longs for the downfall of Britain, and would gladly lend
a helping hand to assist. Cobden was fêted on the Continent, not
because he was a commercial reformer, but because he was known to be
a determined enemy to the British aristocracy, and a virulent and
successful demagogue. It was for that reason, and for that alone,
that he was greeted on his progress by the rising rascaldom of
Europe: he was to them the mere type of a coming democracy, and they
cared not a copper for his calico.
It is comfortable, however, to know that Young Germany has other
enemies, whom she regards with even more jaundiced eyes. There is
not one republican rogue on the Rhine but feels a pang of terror
at the mere mention of the name of Russia. They are perfectly well
aware that Great Britain has no intention of meddling with them,
and that they may cut and carve at their own constitutions without
the slightest risk of exciting an active interference. But they
are not so sure of the permanent neutrality of Nicholas; and an
unwholesome suspicion is constantly present to their minds, that, in
the progress of events, Russia may combine with the constitutional
party in Austria and Bavaria, and restore order by sweeping from
the face of the earth the whole revolutionary gang. And it is not
at all impossible that such may be the result, when the government
of Prussia awakes to a sense of its duty, and their king becomes
thoroughly ashamed of the unworthy part he has acted. At present,
he has the merit of having stirred up a conflagration which he is
not permitted to direct, and the misfortune of finding that, besides
his neighbour's house, his own is threatened with the flames. He has
thrown himself into the arms of the ultra-democratic party, without
the slightest symptom of recognition on their part. His name is in
every mouth a by-word. He is cursed by the constitutionalists for his
treachery and fickleness, and laughed at by the movement party, whose
aim is a pure republic.
I took the earliest possible opportunity of treating both of the
admirers of freedom to beer at a station, and, in consequence, rose
somewhat in their good graces. He in the garb of the middle ages
had evidently been refreshing himself already in the course of the
forenoon, and proceeded to vary the monotony of the journey by
chanting a hymn of Freiligrath's, which, it struck me, might have
been improved by the omission of considerable bloodthirstiness. I was
not sorry when we arrived at Cologne, and had to submit our baggage
for inspection to the custom-house officers--an operation which they
performed with much civility; nevertheless I thought it incumbent
upon me, before parting, to point out this remnant of feudal tyranny
to my companions, and to request that, when Germany had become a
republic, and kings and kaisers were no more, the grievance might be
redressed. Though neither of them were burdened with goods, they were
kind enough to assure me that my recommendation should be attended
to--a promise which they sealed with oaths; whereupon we shook hands,
and parted, I sincerely trust, for ever.
Not having the slightest wish to renew my acquaintance with the
skulls of Caspar, Melchior, and Balthazar, or with the interesting
relics of Saint Ursula and her plurality of virgins, I set off early
next morning on the customary passage up the Rhine. Judging from
the diminished numbers and appearance of the passengers, the hand
of revolution has already weighed heavily upon the industry of this
district. There were none of the English travelling carriages on
board--none of the merry groups that used to congregate under the
awning, and spread the echoes of their laughter and merriment over
the bosom of Father Rhine. Even the artists, that ubiquitous class,
were unrepresented. The quarter-deck was sparsely tenanted by a few
Germans wearing the national cockade, who were evidently on their
way to Frankfort; one or two Frenchmen, who, having nothing to do
in Paris, were killing time by a short summer ramble, and a single
enterprising Cockney and his bride. Every one seemed dull and
dispirited, and utterly without that store of enthusiasm which used
to be expended as a sort of necessary tribute to the glorious scenery
of the river. I made acquaintance with a young Parisian banker, a
gay good-humoured fellow of Herculean proportions, who had fought
on the side of order in the bloody affair of June. He was a decided
Orleanist in his politics, and had no faith whatever in the ultimate
stability of the Republic.
"I turned out," he said, "with the national guard, and a hard time
we had of it at the barricades. The _canaille_ fought like devils.
But what would you have?--it was neck or nothing with us. Property is
worth little in France, thanks to Lamartine and the rest; but there
is a worse thing than the loss of property--_le pillage et le viol_!
So I fought for the Republic, bad as it is, being the only barrier
between us and absolute ruin. For myself, I am heartily tired of the
whole concern. I have come away with fifty louis in my purse, to
amuse myself for a month; and then I shall return to Paris, in the
full expectation of being shot before the month of February."
His disgust at the present aspect of Germany was excessive.
"The fools! the imbeciles! What possible good can they expect to
receive from their revolution? My countrymen were foolish enough--but
we laboured under the curse of centralisation in Paris, and, heaven
knows! we are paying the penalty. The departments of France did
not want a change; but here the infection appears to be universal.
Look at that fat fool with the absurd cockade!--I take him to be a
substantial merchant in one of their towns--he may not have felt the
pressure as yet, but before six months are over his stock will be
lying useless on his hands, and his affairs utterly bankrupt. That
is the price he must pay for national unity, and the privilege of
wearing in his hat a badge about the size of a soup-plate!"
Presently we were favoured with a specimen of the warlike
preparations of the assembly at Frankfort. That body had, a few days
before, refused their consent to the armistice which the regent had
been empowered to conclude with the king of Denmark; and steamer
after steamer dashed past us, conveying Prussian, Nassau, and
Darmstadt troops from Mayence to the scene of action. With the new
gaudy colours of the Empire trailing at the stern, these vessels came
down the stream, the troops cheering as they went by, and apparently
in high spirits.
"Very well, gentlemen!" thought I, "go on. The attack on little
Denmark by a great bully of a power may seem a very creditable thing
at present, but we shall see how it will end. Take care you don't
run your heads against a certain individual to the northward, who is
popularly supposed to subsist principally upon spermaceti, and who
would ask no better amusement than that of extracting a little of
your extra democracy with the knout. There would be some grimacing in
Cologne at the sight of a pulk of Cossacks!"
Coblentz, that pretty little town which reposed so quietly under the
huge shadow of Ehrenbreitstein, was crowded with troops, waiting
for the opportunity of transport. I had scarcely stepped upon the
quay when I found myself enveloped in the embrace of a gentleman in
military accoutrements, who exclaimed with Teutonic fervour--
"_Du lieber himmel! Er ist's! August Reignold von Dunshunner, wie
geht's?_"
I looked up, and presently recognised an old acquaintance in the
person of one Ernest Herrmann, formerly _fahntrager_ or ensign in
a regiment of Wurtemberg infantry, and now a captain in the same
distinguished service. Years before, I had seen a good deal of him at
Stuttgardt, and still remembered with pleasure his accomplishments in
the ball-room and the skittle-ground.
"Herrmann, my dear fellow!" said I, "is it possible that I meet
you here? Have you changed service, or what brings you here from
Stuttgardt?"
"Not I," replied Herrmann. "Still true to the old colours; but you
see we have added another since you were last here. The fact is, that
our regiment is on its way for a brush with the Danes, and we expect
to take up our winter-quarters at Copenhagen."
"Indeed!"
"Will you not join us? I have no doubt it will be the rarest fun--and
I am sure the colonel would not have the least objection to your
being of our party."
"Thank you!" said I drily, "I am afraid I should be rather in the
way. And how are our old friends Krauss and Bartenstein, and the
rest?"
"All well and all here! Come along with me, we are just going to
dinner, and you positively must spend an hour with us. Not that way!"
said my friend, as I was making for one of the larger hotels, at the
door of which two waiters were waving napkins, as if to allure the
unwary passenger--"not that way! We have a quiet _gast-haus_ of our
own, and I think I can promise you a tolerable spread."
I yielded to the suggestion, and accompanied Herrmann down a back
street until we reached a tavern, which, certainly, I would not
have been inclined to select as my own peculiar domicile. Several
Wurtemberg soldiers were smoking their pipes in the passage, and
the aroma which issued from the _Stuben_ was far more pungent than
pleasant. We ascended a wooden stair leading to an upper apartment,
in which a number of officers were already seated at table.
"Whom do you think I have here?" cried Herrmann. "Krauss, Offenbach,
Bartenstein--have you forgot our old friend the Freyherr von
Dunshunner?"
In an instant I was pounced upon by Krauss, who, after a hug of
German fraternity, passed me to his nearest comrade; and in this way
I made the round of the table, until I emerged from the arms of an
aged major, as odorous as Cadwallader when mounted on his goat after
a liberal luncheon upon leeks.
I used to like the German officers. They were a frank, good-humoured,
rough-and-ready sort of fellows, decently educated, as times go,
and easily and innocently amused. I would rather, however, not mess
with them, for they are extremely national and economical in their
diet; and I never throve much upon the bread soup, sauer kraut, and
pork, which constitute the staple of their entertainments. But I was
gratified at meeting once more with old companions, though under
circumstances singularly changed. The senior officers, I could see,
were not very sanguine as to the results of their expedition, and it
was only among the younger portion that any enthusiasm was exhibited.
So we talked a great deal, and consumed a considerable quantity of
indifferent Moselle, until a messenger announced that time was up,
and the steamer ready to depart. I accompanied my friends to the
quay, and bade them farewell, with a strong conviction that, from the
present state of European affairs, it was highly improbable that we
should ever meet again.
Two days afterwards I arrived at Frankfort, every hour upon the road
having afforded farther evidence of the entire disorganisation which
is prevalent throughout Germany. In Mayence, that strong garrison
town, any thing but a friendly feeling subsists between the military
and the populace. The latter, long accustomed to strict rule, have
become turbulent and insolent, never omitting any opportunity of
displaying their ill-will, especially to the Austrians, who have as
yet received such demonstrations with the phlegm peculiar to their
nation. But it is very evident that the Austrian soldiery are sick
of this order of things, and that, whenever an opportunity of action
may occur, they will not be slow in taking a summary vengeance on the
blouses. In the mean time discipline is relaxed, and men seem hardly
to know who is their legitimate master. France never yet had so good
an opportunity of achieving that old object of her ambition--the
boundary of the Rhine; and, in the event of a European war, it is
almost certain that the attempt will be made.