distance is traversed over a stone bridge. There is no other entrance,
all the rest of the town being surrounded by the lake, which is at
least a league in width, and on the other side rise the mountains of
the Grisons. The lake and all the streams are low in winter and full in
summer on account of the melting of the snow. All through these parts
the women cover their heads with bonnets of fur like our skull-caps,
each costing about three testoons;[53] the outside being trimmed with
some seemly grey fur, and the inside with lambs’-wool. The opening
which in our caps is in front is in theirs behind, and through it may
be seen their hair tucked up. Their favourite foot-gear is boots, and
these are either red or white, each sort suiting the wearer not amiss.
Both religions are followed. We went to see the Catholic cathedral,
built in 866, where all things are as they have always been, and we
saw also the church served by the Lutheran ministers. All the imperial
towns have liberty in the matter of the two religions, Catholic and
Lutheran, according to the leanings of the people, and they devote
themselves more or less to that form which they prefer. At Lindau,
from what the priest told M. de Montaigne, there are not more than two
or three Catholics. The priests do not fail to draw their incomes and
to perform the service, and the nuns who are there do the same. M. de
Montaigne had some talk also with the minister, from whom he got but
little information, except to learn that the common hatred against
Zwingle and Calvin was prevalent here likewise. It seems clear that
almost every separate place holds for its belief some particular view;
and, under the authority of Martin, whom they hail as their head, they
set up divers disputes on the interpretation of the meaning of Martin’s
works.
We lodged at the “Crown,” a good house. Near the stone on the panelled
wall there was a sort of wooden cage for the keeping of a vast number
of birds. It was fitted with hanging perches made of copper wire,
which gave room for the birds to shift from one end to the other. The
furniture and woodwork of their houses is generally made of pine,
the most common forest tree, but they paint and varnish and polish it
carefully, and even use hair brushes for the furbishing of their chairs
and tables. They have great abundance of cabbages, which they shred
with a tool made for the purpose, and then salt the same in vessels for
making soup in the winter. At this place M. de Montaigne made trial of
the feather coverlets, such as they use in bed, and was full of praise
thereof, finding them light and warm at the same time. It was a saying
of his that people of fastidious taste had more occasion to complain
when travelling of their bed furniture than of aught else, and he
commended those who carried a mattress or curtains amongst the baggage
when visiting strange countries.
As to fare at table, they have such vast abundance of provisions,
and vary the service so widely in the matter of soups, sauces, and
salads, that nothing in our own way of living can be found to equal
it. They gave us soups made of quince, of apples cooked and cut into
strips, and cabbage salad. They make pottage of all sorts, one of rice
which they eat in common, having no separate service of this dish, an
excellently flavoured one. The kitchens are incomparably superior to
those of our great houses, and the sitting-rooms are better furnished
than with us.
They have abundance of excellent fish, which is served at the table
with the meat. Of trout they only eat the liver, and they have also
great plenty of game, hares, and woodcocks, which they dress in a
fashion differing from our own, but a good one all the same; indeed
I have never met with meat so tender as that which was commonly set
before us. They serve with the meat cooked plums and slices of apples
and pears, sometimes putting the roast first and the soup last, and
sometimes reversing this order. As to their fruits, they have only
pears and apples, which are both good, and nuts and cheese. During the
meat course they hand round a utensil, made either of silver or tin,
having four compartments filled with divers sorts of spices. They also
use cummin, or some similar grain with a hot stinging savour, as an
admixture to their bread; this bread being made for the most part with
fennel added thereto. After the meal they replace the glasses filled
full on the table, and offer two or three sorts of eatables which serve
to provoke thirst.
While he was travelling M. de Montaigne noted with regret three steps
which he had neglected to take with regard to his journey. One was that
he had not taken with him a cook, who might have learnt the particular
methods of foreign lands, and some day at home have shown proof of
his skill. The next was that he had not engaged a German valet, or
joined himself to some gentleman of the country, for he felt it very
irksome to be always at the mercy of a blockhead of a guide; and the
last was that, before setting out, he had neither consulted those
books which might have pointed out to him what rare and remarkable
sights were to be seen in every place, nor included in his baggage a
copy of Münster[54] or some similar book. In sooth there was mixed
up with his judgments a certain asperity and want of regard for his
own country, against which for other reasons he harboured dislike and
discontent:[55] certain it is that he preferred the accommodation of
these lands, without comparison, to those of France, and conformed to
them so far as to drink his wine without water. In drinking he never
took wine for its own sake, but simply out of courtesy. Travel is more
costly in High Germany than in France: for at our reckoning a man with
a horse will lay out at least one crown of the sun[56] per diem. In
the first place the innkeepers here charge for food at table d’hôte
four, five, or six batzen. They make a separate item of everything,
even the smallest refreshment that is taken before or after the two
regular meals, wherefore the Germans as a rule quit their lodgings in
the morning without drinking aught. Any additional service after the
principal meals, and the wine consumed therewith--which is for them
the chief expense--they reckon together. In sooth, when we consider
the plentiful fare put on the table, and this especially applies to
wine, even where it is exceedingly dear and brought from afar, I find
the prices charged to be quite justified. They themselves have a way
of urging the servants of their guests to drink, and make them keep
at table two or three hours. The wine is served from large jugs, and
it is reckoned a breach of good manners to let a cup be empty and not
replenish it forthwith. They will never give water even to those who
ask for it, except these should be persons of great worship. They add
to the bill the oats eaten by the horses, and lastly the charge for
the stable, which includes also the hay. A good point about them is
that they ask at once what they mean to accept, and one gains naught
by bargaining. They are boastful, quick-tempered, and drunken, but
they are neither deceitful nor robbers, according to M. de Montaigne’s
opinion. We departed after breakfast and made a journey of two leagues,
and arrived at Vanguen[57] at two in the afternoon.
Here a mishap befell our baggage mule, which injured itself, and
compelled us in consequence to halt and to hire a cart for the next
day at three crowns per diem, the driver, who had four horses, keeping
himself in victual for this sum. Vanguen is a small imperial town which
has always refused to harbour a congregation of any form of religion
other than the Catholic. They make here scythes so famous that they
are sent for sale as far as Lorrenne. M. de Montaigne left it on the
morrow, to wit, on the morning of Wednesday, October 12th, and set out
for Trent by the shortest route. We halted to dine at Isne,[58] two
leagues on our road, a small imperial town very pleasantly situated;
and M. de Montaigne, according to his wont, went straightway to call
upon a doctor of theology for the sake of discourse, and this doctor
he brought in to dine with us. He found that all the people were
Lutherans, and he went to visit the Lutheran church which, as with
all the churches they occupy in the imperial cities, had been taken
from the Catholic. While they were holding divers arguments concerning
the Sacrament, M. de Montaigne bethought him how, during the journey,
certain Calvinists had informed him that the Lutherans now intermix
with the original tenets of Martin divers new errors, such as the
“Ubi-quis me,” and maintain that the body of Christ is everywhere as
well as in the Host; wherefore they fall into the same difficulty as do
the Zwinglians, though by a different road, the one by limiting too
much the bodily presence, and the other by a too lavish application of
the words (for by their reasoning the Sacrament would be no privilege
to the body of the Church or to those two or three just men gathered
together). Moreover, the principal Lutheran arguments were that the
divinity was inseparable from the body, wherefore the divinity being
omnipresent the body must be omnipresent also. They declare, in the
second place, that Jesus Christ, being bound to be always at the right
hand of His Father, is omnipresent, seeing that the right hand of God,
to wit, His power, is in all places. The doctor aforesaid gave strong
denial to this imputation, and set up a defence against the same as
against a calumny; but, indeed, M. de Montaigne gathered the impression
that his defence was somewhat weak.
This doctor went afterwards in company with M. de Montaigne to visit
a grand and sumptuous monastery, where Mass was being said, and he
entered and bided there without removing his headgear until M.
d’Estissac and M. de Montaigne had finished their prayers. They next
went to view in a cellar of the abbey a long cylinder-shaped fragment
of stone,[59] which apparently had once formed part of a column. On it,
written in easily legible Latin letters, was an inscription telling how
the Emperors Pertinax and Antonius Verus had repaired all the roads and
bridges for a distance of eleven thousand paces around Campidonium,
that is to say, Kempten, whither we were bound for the night. This
stone might have been set up to record some later repair of the road,
for report says that this village of Isny is of no great antiquity.
In any case, having inspected all the roads about Kempten, we could
find no repairs worthy of such artificers, and there was not a single
bridge. We certainly remarked that a way had been cut through some of
the hills, but this work was not of prime importance.
[Illustration: KEMPTEN
_From Civitates Orbis Terrarum_
_To face p. 116_, vol. i.
]
Kempten, three leagues farther on, is a town as big as St. Foy,
handsome, populous, and abounding in good lodgings. We stayed at the
“Bear,” an excellent house. At our meals they brought in great silver
vessels of various kinds (these in sooth were intended to serve merely
as ornaments, being richly worked and covered with the arms of divers
gentlemen), the sort of plate which is only to be seen in houses of
high quality. Here it was that we were brought to see the truth of an
observation which M. de Montaigne had made elsewhere, to wit, that if
foreigners ignore certain usages favoured by ourselves, it is because
they hold these usages in slight esteem. For instance, these people,
though they possess vast store of pewter utensils as well scoured
as those at Montaigne, will only make use of wooden platters, which
indeed are both well made and well kept. In all these countries they
put cushions on the seats in the evening, and nearly all the panelled
ceilings of the apartments are vaulted half-moon fashion, which gives
them a very graceful appearance. As to the linen, concerning which
we had previously made certain complaints, we had no occasion to be
dissatisfied; indeed, as far as my master was concerned,[60] I never
failed to procure enough of the same wherewith to fashion a pair of
curtains for his bed, and whenever he happened to want an extra towel
it was always given to him. In this town lives a certain merchant
who carries on a traffic of a hundred thousand florins annually in
linen. M. de Montaigne, on leaving Constance, would fain have visited
that canton of Switzerland[61] which supplies linen for the whole
of Christendom, if there had not been four or five hours needed for
crossing the lake and back to Lindau. This town (Kempten) is Lutheran,
and here, as at Isne, the strange custom obtains that the Catholic
church is most sumptuously served, notwithstanding the lack of
worshippers. On the morrow, Thursday, a working day, the Mass was said
at the abbey outside the town, as it is given in Notre Dame, at Paris,
on Easter Day, with organ music, though none were present but priests.
Those who dwell outside the imperial towns are not free to change
their religion, and many in this case attend the service aforesaid on
feast days. This is a very magnificent abbey.[62] The abbot holds the
same as a prince, and receives therefrom an income of fifty thousand
florins yearly, the present abbot being of the house of Estain. All
the brethren are of gentle birth. The abbey was founded in 783 by
Hildegarde, the wife of Charlemagne, who is buried there and honoured
as a saint; and her bones have been disinterred from the vault in which
they were laid to be placed elsewhere in a shrine.
On the same Thursday morning M. de Montaigne went to the Lutheran
church, which was similar to others of the same sect and of the
Huguenots, except that close by the altar, which is at the head of the
nave, there are several wooden benches, with stools below, so that
those who receive the supper may kneel, as is their custom. M. de
Montaigne found there two ministers, elderly men, of whom one preached
in German to a scanty congregation. When he had finished they sang a
psalm in German, to music differing somewhat from what we use. After
each verse the fine organ, which had recently been erected, made a
response in music, and whenever the preacher named the name of Christ
he and all his hearers uncovered themselves. The sermon being finished,
the other minister placed himself in front of the altar with his face
towards the people, holding in his hand a book. A young woman with bare
head and loosened hair approached him, and, after saluting him in the
way these people use, remained standing before him. Soon afterwards a
young man, an artisan with a sword by his side, presented himself, and
stood beside the young woman. The minister spoke a few words into the
ear of each, directed them both to repeat a paternoster, and then began
to read from his book. There were certain ceremonies to be undergone
by those seeking marriage, and next the minister made them take each
other by the hand without kissing. When this ceremony was finished
the minister went his way, and M. de Montaigne caught him up, and they
held a long discourse together after he had taken M. de Montaigne to
his house, which was seemly and well appointed. His name was Johannes
Tillianus, a native of Augsburg. M. de Montaigne asked concerning
a new Confession, lately formulated by the Lutherans to which all
the doctors and princes who supported it have put their names; this
however, is not written in Latin. When they were leaving the church a
company with violins and tambourines came to meet the newly-married
pair and escorted them home. On being asked if they permitted dancing,
the minister exclaimed, “And why not!” and again to the question: Why
had they let Jesus Christ be represented in the windows of the church,
and upon the organs newly built? and why had they set up divers images?
he replied that they did not condemn the use of images as warnings and
examples, but only as objects of worship. Again, when he was asked
why they had removed from the churches the ancient images, he answered
that it was not they who had done this, but their worthy disciples the
Zwinglians, who had occupied the churches in the first instance, and,
being stirred up by a spiteful humour, had done this outrage and divers
others to boot. The same explanation was given to M. de Montaigne by
other members of this confession during his travels, the doctor at Isne
to wit, who, when he was asked whether he hated the figure and effigy
of the Cross, cried out straightway: “How can I be such an atheist
as to hate this figure so full of joy and glory to all Christians!
Opinions like these are of the devil.” And as they sat at ease at table
all declared the same: that they would rather hear a hundred masses
than take part in the Calvinist supper. At this place they served us
white hares at table. The town is on the river Isler,[63] and, after
taking our dinner there on the Thursday aforesaid, we travelled four
leagues over a rocky, sterile road to Frienten,[64] a small village,
Catholic like all the rest of this country, which is under the Archduke
of Austria.
When treating of Linde, I forgot to say that at the entrance of the
town there is a large wall bearing signs of great antiquity, and having
naught written thereon that I see. I heard that its name in German
signified “the old wall.”
On this Friday morning, though our lodging was a very mean one, we
did not fail to find plentiful provision. It is the habit of these
people to warm neither their sheets before going to bed nor their
clothes before getting up, and they take it ill if any one should
have a fire lighted in the kitchen for this service, or even make use
of such fire as may be burning. This was one of the chief causes of
wrangling we encountered in the houses where we lodged; indeed, even in
the depths of the mountains and forests, where ten thousand feet of
pinewood could be bought for less than fifty sous, they were just as
ill disposed to let us make a fire as elsewhere. On the Friday morning
we departed, and followed the more easy road to the left, instead of
taking the mountain path which leads direct to Trent, M. de Montaigne
being minded to make a détour of several days in order to visit certain
fine cities of Germany; and annoyed that, when at Vanguen, he had
altered his plan which he had first made of going direct to Germany,
and had taken another route. On our road we saw, as in divers other
places, certain water-mills which have water brought to them simply by
wooden troughs, which take in the water at the foot of some mountain,
and then, being raised and propped high above the ground, discharge the
stream down a very steep incline from the end of the last trough. After
going a league on the road, we stopped to dine at Frissen.[65]
This is a small Catholic town, belonging to the bishop of Augsburg. We
found there numerous members of the train of the Archduke of Austria,
who was paying a visit to the Duke of Bavaria in a castle hard by.[66]
It was decided to leave there on the banks of the Lech our heavy
baggage, and that I and certain others should take them on to Augsburg
on a raft, as they term the trunks of trees bound together, which they
break up when in harbour. There is an abbey in which they showed to
Messieurs a chalice and a stole which they hold to be relics. These
belonged to a saint named Magnus,[67] who was, as they declare, the son
of a king of Scotland, and a disciple of Columbanus. Pepin founded this
monastery for the benefit of this Magnus, whom he made the first abbot.
He likewise caused to be written there on the roof of the nave this
inscription, and below the same notes of music to which it might be
sung: “_Comperta virtute beati Magni fama, Pipinus Princeps locum quem
Sanctus incoluit regia largitate donavit._” Charlemagne subsequently
enriched the place still further, as an inscription in the monastery
records. After dinner we all met at Chonguen[68] at bedtime, after a
journey of four leagues.
Chonguen is a small town under the Duke of Bavaria, and consequently
entirely Catholic; for this prince, beyond any other in Germany, has
kept his jurisdiction free from all touch of religious innovation, and
is stiffly set in his views. There is excellent lodging at the “Star,”
where we found a new fashion at table. On a square board they arrange
the salt-cellars from one corner to another, the candlesticks being set
between the two other corners, thus forming a Saint Andrew’s cross.
They never serve eggs, or at least only when boiled hard and cut in
quarters in the salads, which are of the best, the vegetables being
quite fresh. The wine is drunk new, as a rule, immediately after it is
made. They thresh out the corn in the barns as they may want it, using
in this work the heavy end of a flail. On the Saturday we journeyed
four leagues and dined at Lanspergs,[69] a small town belonging also to
the Duke of Bavaria aforesaid, and situated on the banks of the Lech,
the town, the suburbs, and the castle alike exhibiting a remarkably
fine aspect. We arrived there on a market day, when the place was
crowded with people, and remarked in the middle of a very large square
a fountain which sent up water through a hundred pipes to the height of
a pike shaft, and scattered the jets in elaborate fashion, according
to the manipulation of the pipes. There is a very fine church in the
town and another in the suburb, both high up on the hill, which is
very steep, and the castle is similarly situated. M. de Montaigne went
thither to visit the Jesuit college, finely housed in quite a new
building, to which they are about to add a church. M. de Montaigne
spent as much time as he had to spare in conversing with the Jesuits.
The Count of Helfenstein[70] was in command at the castle. Here, if
any one should favour another religion than the Roman, he would be
wise to keep silent thereanent. On the gate between the town and the
suburb there is a long inscription in Latin, written in the year
1552, which declares that the _Senatus populusque_ of the town built
this monument to the memory of the brothers William and Louis, dukes
_utriusque Boiariæ_. Here there are many conceits after the following
fashion: “_Horridum militem esse decet, nec auro cœlatum, sed animo et
ferro fretum_;” and at the top thereof, “_Cavea stultorum mundus_.”
And in another place, very conspicuous, are certain words taken from
some Latin historian,[71] concerning the battle which the Consul
Marcellus lost to a king of this nation: “_Carolami Boiorumque Regis
cum Marcello Cos. pugna quâ eum vicit_,” &c. Besides these there are
divers appropriate mottoes in Latin over the doors of private houses.
These people constantly refurbish their towns and churches, which in
consequence have a most prosperous look; and, as it happened most
seasonably for the amenity of our visit, everything had been newly set
in order in this place three or four years before; for they always
put the date upon their work. The clock of this town, like those in
many other towns in this country, sounds all the quarters; and they
say there is one in Nuremburg which sounds the minutes. We left the
town after dinner, and after going four leagues over a lengthy plain
of pasture, very level, like the plain of La Beausse, we arrived at
Augsburg.
[Illustration: AUGSBURG
_To face p. 128_, vol. i.
]
This is reckoned the fairest town of Germany, as Strasburg is the
strongest. The first sight we got of their household arrangements was a
strange one, but it assuredly bore witness to their cleanliness. This
was when we found the steps of the staircase of our lodging covered
with pieces of linen cloth, upon which we were required to walk in
order that we might not soil the steps aforesaid, seeing that they had
just washed and polished them, as is their wont to do every Saturday.
We saw no trace of cobweb or of mud in our lodging: in certain of the
rooms were curtains which any one may at will draw over the windows. It
is rare to find tables in the chambers, save those which are attached
to the foot of the bed, and these are made to go with hinges so they
can be raised or lowered at pleasure. The footboards of the beds are
elevated two or three feet above the frame, and are often as high as
the bolsters, beautifully carven in pinewood, but the pine they use is
inferior to our walnut. They make use of pewter plates polished bright,
but they put inside these other plates of wood, and on the walls,
beside the beds, they often hang up linen cloths and curtains in order
that the walls may not be sullied by the spitting of the guests. The
Germans set great store on coats-of-arms, and in every apartment may
be found a great number of these which the gentlefolk of the country
on their travels have left behind; the glass in the windows, moreover,
is often garnished with the same. The routine of table service varies
greatly. Here they gave us first crayfish of a wonderful size, but in
other places this dish has always come last. In many of the large inns
they bring everything in covered dishes. The reason why their window
glass is so brilliant is that they have no set window-frames like ours,
but casements which open at will and which they clean often.