Part 17
Nothing can be finer, or in its way more tasteful, than a chimney-piece made for the Elector, entirely from the manufacture and produce of his own dominions; that part which we should form of marble is white porcelane, with an exquisite bas-relief in the middle copied from the antique; its sides are set with Saxon gems, cameowise; and such carnelions much amaze one in so northern a latitude; the workmanship is beyond praise.--I asked the gentleman who shewed us the cabinet of natural history, why such richly-coloured minerals, and even precious stones, were found in these climates; while every animal product grows paler as it approaches the pole?--“Where phlogiston is frequent,” replied he, “there is no danger of the tint being too lightly bestowed: our quantity of iron here in Saxony, gives purple to the amethysts you admire; and see here if the rainbow-stone of Labrador yields in glowing hue to the productions of Mexico or Malabar.”--The specimens here however were not as valuable as the conversation of him who has the care of them; but a _plica Polonica_ took much of my attention; the size and weight of it was enormous, its length four yards and a half; the person who was killed by its growth was a Polish lady of quality well known in King Augustus’s court; it is a very strange and a very shocking thing!
Our library here is new and not eminently well stocked; but it is too cold weather now to stand long looking at rarities. The first Reformation bible published by Luther himself, with a portrait of the first Protestant Elector, is however too curious and interesting to be neglected; in frost and snow such sights might warm a heart well disposed to see the word of God disseminated, which had lain too long locked up by ignorance and interest united. Here is a book too, which how it escaped Pinelli I know not, a Venetian translation of the holy scriptures _a Brucioli_, the date 1592. King Augustus’s maps please one from their costliness; the Elector has twelve volumes of them; every letter is gold, every city painted in miniature at the corners, while arms, trophies, &c. adorn the whole, to an incredible expence: they were engraved on purpose for his use; and that no other Prince might ever have such again, he ordered the plates to be broke.
Sunday, December 17. I am just now returned home from the Lutheran church of Notre Dame; where, though the communicants do not kneel down like us, it is odd to say I never saw the sacrament administered with such solemnity and pomp. Four priests ornamented with a large cross on the back, a multitude of lighted tapers blazing round them, a uniformity in the dress of all who received, and music played in a flat third somehow very impressively, as they moved round in a sort of procession, making a profound reverence to the altar when they passed it, struck me extremely, who have been lately accustomed to see very little ceremony used on _such_ occasions; and I well remember at Pisa in particular, that while we were looking about the church for curiosity, one poor woman knelt down just by us, and a priest coming out administered the sacrament to her alone, the whole finishing in less than five minutes I am persuaded. I said to Mr. Seydelman, when we had returned home to-day, that the Saxons seemed to follow the first manner in reformation, our Anglicans the second, and the Calvinists the third: he understood my allusion to the cant of connoisseurship.
The sedan chairs here give the town a sort of homeish look; I had not been carried in one since I left Genoa, and it is so comfortable this cold clear weather! A regular market too, though not a fine one, has an English air; and a saddle of mutton, or more properly a chine, was a sight I had not contemplated for two years and a half. The Italians do call a cook _teologo_, out of sport; but I think he would be the properest theologian in good earnest, to tell why Catholics and Protestants should not cut their meat alike at least, if they cannot agree in other points. This is the first town I have seen however, where the butchers divided their beasts as we do.
The arsenal we have walked over delighted us but little: Saxons should say to their swords, like Benvolio in the play, “_God send me no need of thee!_”--for the Emperor is on one side of them, and the King of Prussia on the other. This last is always mentioned as a pacific prince though; and the first has so much to do and to think of, I hope he will forget Dresden, and suffer them to possess their fine territory and gems in perfect peace and quietness. One thing however was odd and pretty, and worth remarking, That at Rome there was an arsenal in the church--I mean belonging to it; and here there is a church in the arsenal.
The bombardment of this pretty town by their active neighbour Frederic; the sweet Electress’s death in consequence of the personal mortifications she received during that dreadful siege; the embarkation of the treasures to send them safe away by water; and the various distresses suffered by this city in the time of that great war;--make much of our conversation, and that conversation is interesting. I only wonder they have so quickly recovered a blow struck so hard.
The gaiety and good-humour of the court are much desired by the Saxons, who have a most lofty notion of princes, and repeat all they say, and all that is said of them, with a most venerating affection. I see no national partiality to England however, as in many other parts of Europe, though our religions are so nearly allied: and here is a spirit of subordination beyond what I have yet been witness to--an aunt kissing the hand of her own niece (a baby not six years old), and calling her “_ma chere comtesse!_”--carried it as high I think as it can be carried.
The environs of Dresden are happily disposed, for though it is deep winter we have had scarcely any snow, and the horizon is very clear, so that one may be a tolerable judge of the prospects. Our river Elbe is truly majestic and the great islands of ice floating down it have a fine appearance.
They do not double their sash-windows as at Vienna, but there is less wind to keep out. In every place people have a trick of lamenting, and there are two themes of lamentation universal for aught I see--the weather and the poor. I see no beggars here, and feel no rain,--but hear heavy complaints of both. Crying the hour in the night as at London pleased me much; why the ceremony is accompanied by the sound of a horn, nobody seems able to tell. The march of soldiers morning and night to music through the streets is likewise agreeable, and gives ideas of security; but driving great heavy waggons up and down, with two horses a-breast, like a chaise in England, and a postillion upon one of them, is very droll to look at. Ordinary fellows too in the Elector’s livery (blue and yellow) would seem strange, but that as soon as Dover is left behind every man seems to belong to some other man, and no man to himself. The Emperor’s livery is very handsome, but I do not admire _this_. A custom of fifteen or twenty grave-looking men, dressed like counsellors in Westminster Hall, with half a dozen boys in their company for _sopranos_, singing counterpoint under one’s window, has an odd effect; they are confraternities of people I am told, who live in a sort of community together, are maintained by contributing friends, and taught music at their expence; so in order to accomplish themselves, and shew how well they are accomplished, this curious contrivance is adopted. Every Sunday we hear them again in the church belonging to the parish that maintains them. A procession of bakers too is a droll oddity, but shews that where there is much leisure for the common people, some cheap amusement must be found: two of these bakers fight at the corner of every street for precedence, which by this means often changes hands; yet does not the conquered baker shew any signs of shame or depression, nor does the contest last long, or prove interesting. I suppose they have settled all the battles beforehand: no meaning seemed to be annexed either by performers or spectators to the show; we could make little diversion out of it, but have no doubt of its being an old superstition.
On Christmas eve I went to Santa Sophia’s church, and heard a famous preacher; his manner was energetic, and he kept an hour-glass by him, finishing with strange abruptness the moment it was expired. This was in use among our distant provinces as late as Gay’s time; he mentions it in a line of his pastorals, and says--
He preach’d the hour-glass in her praise quite out;
speaking of dead Blouzelind as I recollect. It now seems a strange _grossiereté_, but refinement follows hard upon the heels of reformation.
There is an agreeable fancy here, which one has always heard of, but never seen perhaps; the notion of calling together a dozen pretty children to receive presents upon Christmas eve. The custom is exceedingly amiable in itself, and gives beside a pleasing pretext for parents and relations to meet, and while away the time till supper in reciprocating caresses with their babies, and rejoicing in that species of happiness (the purest of all perhaps) which childhood alone can either receive or bestow. I was invited to an exhibition of this sort, and for some time saw little preparation for pleasure, except the sight of fourteen or fifteen well-dressed little creatures, all under the age of twelve I think, and more girls than boys: the company consisted of three or four and twenty people; all spoke French, and I was directed to observe how the young ones watched for the opening of a particular door; which however remained shut so long, that I forgot it again, and had begun to interest myself in chat with my nearest neighbour (no mother of course), when the door flew wide, and the master of the house announced the hour of felicity, shewing us an apartment gaily illuminated with coloured lamps; a sort of tree in grotto-work adorned the middle, and the presents were arranged all round; dolls innumerable, variously adjusted; fine new clothes, fans, trinkets, work-baskets, little escritoires, purses, pocket-books, toys, dancing-shoes,--every thing. The children skipped about, and capered with exultation;--“My own mama! my dear aunt! my sweet kind grandpapa!”--resounded wherever we turned our heads; I think it was the loveliest little show imaginable, and am sorry to know how description must necessarily wrong it: _les etrennes de Dresde_ shall however remain indelibly fixed in my memory. When the pretty dears had appropriated and arranged their presents, cake and lemonade were brought to quiet their agitated spirits, and all went home happy to bed. Their sparkling eyes and rosy cheeks served for our theme till supper-time; and I sat trying, but in vain, to find a reason why paternal affection appears so much warmer always in Protestant countries, and filial piety in those which remain firm to the church of Rome.
We returned home to our inn exceedingly well amused; the supper had been magnificent, and the preceding fast gave it additional relish. I now tremble with apprehension however lest the show of yesterday was too splendid: for if the mothers begin once to vie with each other whose gifts shall be grandest, or if once the friend at whose house the treat is prepared produces a more costly entertainment than his neighbours have hitherto contented themselves with giving, this innocent and even praiseworthy pastime will soon swell into expensive luxury, and burst from having been poisoned by the corroding touch of malice and of envy.
Our Saxons however seemed well-bred, airy, and agreeable in last night’s hour of festivity; and could I have fancied their gaiety quite natural like that of Venice or Verona, I might perhaps have caught the sweet infection, and felt disposed to merriment myself; but much of this was studied mirth one saw, and pleasure upon principle, as in our own island; which, though more elegant, is less attractive. It is difficult to catch the contagion of artificial hilarity, and a celebrated surgeon once told me, that one might live with safety at Sutton-house among the inoculated patients, without ever taking the disorder, unless the operation were regularly performed upon one’s self.
Well! we must shortly quit this very comfortable resting-place, and leave a town more like our own than any I have yet seen; where, however, the dresses, of ordinary women I mean, are extraordinary enough, each when she is made up for show wearing a rich old-fashioned brocade cloke lined with green lutestring, and edged round with narrow fur. This is universal. Her neat black love-hood however is not so ugly as the man’s bright yellow brass comb, stuck regularly in all their heads of long straight hair who are not people of fashion; and no powder is ever used among the Lutherans here in Saxony I see, except by gentlemen and ladies, who often take all _theirs_ out when they go to church, from some odd principle of devotion. It is very pretty though to see the little clean-faced lads and wenches running to school so in a morning at every protestant town, with the grammar and testament under their arm, while every the meanest house has a folio bible in it, and all the people of the lowest ranks can read it.
On this 1st of January 1787, I may boast of having visited lord Peter, Jack, and Martin, all in the course of one day. Hearing Mons. Dumarre preach to the French Huguenots in the morning, attending the established church at Notre Dame at noon, and going to the Elector’s truly-magnificent place of worship at night, where Hasse’s Te Deum was sung, and executed with prodigious regularity and pomp, over against an altar decorated with well-employed splendour, exhibiting zeal for God’s house, animated by elegant taste, and encouraged by royal presence;
While from the censer clouds of fragrance roll, And swelling organs lift the rising soul.
I studied then to keep my mind, I hope I kept it free from narrow and from vulgar prejudice, desirous only of seeing the three principal sects of Christians adoring their Redeemer, each in the way they think most likely to please him; nor will I mention which method had the most immediate effect on _me_; but this I saw, that beneath
Such plain roofs as piety could raise, Made vocal only by our maker’s praise,
Monsieur Dumarre produced from his peaceful auditors more tears of gratitude and tenderness in true remembrance of the sacred season, than were shed at either of the other churches. Indeed the sublime and pathetic simplicity of the place, the truly-touching rhetoric of the preacher, his story a sad one; while his persecuted family were forced to fly their native country, driven thence by the rigour of Romish severity, and his life exactly corresponding to the purity of that doctrine he teaches: his tones of voice, his tranquillity of manners,
His plainness moves men more than eloquence, And to his flock, joy be the consequence!
The established sect here--_Lutheranism_, keeps almost the exact medium between the other two, though their places of worship strike me as something more theatrical than one could wish; very stately they are certainly, and very imposing. As few people however are fond of a middle state, as here is prodigious encouragement given by the court to Romanists, and full toleration from the state to the disciples of John Calvin, I wonder more members of the national church do not quit her communion for that of one of these chapels, which however owe their very existence in Saxony to that truly christian and catholick spirit of toleration, possessed by Martin alone.
We have recovered ourselves now from all fatigues; our coach and our spirits are once more repaired, and ready to set out for
BERLIN.
The road hither is all a heavy sand, cut through vast forests of ever-green timber, but not beautiful like those of Bavaria, rather tedious, flat, and tristful: to encrease which sensations, and make them more grievous to us, our servants complained bitterly of the last long frosty night, which we spent wholly in the carriage till it brought us here, where the man of the house, a bad one enough indeed, speaks as good English as I do, and has lived long in London. I am not much enchanted with this place however. Dean Swift said, that a good style was only proper words in proper places; and if a good city is to be judged of in the same way, perhaps Berlin may obtain the first place, which one would not on an immediate glance think it likely to deserve; as a mere residence however, it will be difficult to find a finer.
He who sighs for the happy union of situation, climate, fertility, and grandeur, will think _Genoa_ transcends all that even a warm imagination can wish. If with a very, very little less degree of positive beauty, he feels himself chiefly affected by a number of Nature’s most interesting features, finely, and even philosophically arranged; _Naples_ is the town that can afford him most matter both of solemn and pleasing speculation.
If ruins of pristine splendour, solid proofs of universal dominion, _once_, nay _twice_ enjoyed: with the view of temporal power crushed by its own weight, solicits his curiosity.--It will be amply gratified at _Rome_; where all that modern magnificence can perform, is added to all that ancient empire has left behind. Romantic ideas of Armida’s palace, fancied scenes of perennial pleasure, and magical images of ever varying delight, will be best realized at smiling _Venice_ of any place; but if a city may be called perfect in proportion to its external convenience, if making many houses to hold many people, keeping infection away by cleanliness, and ensuring security against fire by a nice separation of almost every building from almost every other; if uniformity of appearance can compensate for elegance of architecture, and space make amends for beauty, _Berlin_ certainly deserves to be seen, and he who planned it, to be highly commended. The whole looks at its worst now; all the churches are in mourning, so are the coaches: no theatre is open, and no music heard, except now and then a melancholy German organ droning its dull round of tunes under one’s window, without even the London accompaniment of a hoarse voice crying _Woolfleet oysters_. Come! Berlin can boast an arsenal capable of containing arms for two hundred and fifty thousand men. The contempt of decoration for a place destined to real use seemed respectable in itself, and characteristic of its founder. No columns of guns or capitals of pistols, neatly placed, are to be seen here. A vast, large, clean, cold-looking room, with swords and muskets laid up only that they may be taken down, is all one has to look at in Frederick’s preparations for attack or defence.
In accumulation of ornaments one hopes to find elegance, and in rejection of superfluity there is dignity of sentiment; but nothing can excuse a sovereign prince for keeping as curiosities worthy a traveller’s attention, a heap of trumpery fit to furnish out the shop of a Westminster pawnbroker. Our cabinet of rarities here is literally no better than twenty old country gentlemen’s seats, situated in the distant provinces of England, shew to the servants of a neighbouring family upon a Christmas visit, when the housekeeper is in good humour, and, gently wiping the dust off my _late lady’s mother’s_ amber-boxes, produces forth the wax figures of my lord John and my lord Robert when _babies_. For this pitiable exhibition, ships cut in paper, and saints carved in wood, we paid half a guinea each; not gratuity to the person who has them in charge, but tax imposed by the government. Every house here is obliged to maintain so many soldiers, excepting such and such only who have the word _free_ written over their doors; here seem to be no people in the town almost except soldiers though; so they naturally command whatever is to be had. Most nations begin and end with a _military_ dominion, as red is commonly the first and last colour obtained by the chymist in his various experiments upon artificial tints. This state is yet young, and many things in it not quite come to their full growth, so we must not be rigorous in our judgments. I have seen the library, in which we were for the first time shewn what is confidently _said_ to be an Æthiopian manuscript, and such it certainly may be for aught I know. What interested me much more was our Tonson’s _Cæsar_, a book remarkable for having been written by the first hero and general in the world perhaps, dedicated to the second, and possessed by the third. Here is an exceeding perfect collection of all Hogarth’s prints.
This city appears to be a very wholesome one; the houses are not high to confine the air between them, or drive it forward in currents upon the principle of Paris or Vienna; the streets are few, but long, straight, and wide; ground has not been spared in its construction, which seems a most judicious one; and with this well-earned praise I am most willing to quit it. It is the first place of any consequence I have felt in a hurry to run away from; for till now there have been _some_ attractions in every town; something that commanded veneration or invited fondness; something pleasing in its society, or instructive in its history. It would however be sullen enough to feel no agreeable sensation in seeing this child of the present century come to age so: the tomb of its author is the object of our present curiosity, which will be gratified to-morrow.
Ou sont ils donc, ces foudres de guerre, Qui faisoient trembler l’univers? Ils ne sont plus qu’un peu de terre, Restes, qu’ont epargnis les vers[52].
POTZDAM.
And now, if Berlin wants taste and magnificence, here’s Potzdam built on purpose, I believe, to shew that even with both a place may be very dismal and very disagreeable. The commonest buildings in this city look like the best side of Grosvenor-square in London, or Queen’s-square at Bath. I have not seen a street so narrow as Oxford Road, but many here are much wider, with canals up the middle, and a row of trees planted on each side, a gravel walk near the water for foot passengers, instead of a _trottoir_ by the side of the houses. Every dwelling is ornamented to a degree of profusion; but to one’s question of, “Who lives in these palaces?” one hears that they are all empty space, or only occupied by goods never wanted, or corn there is nobody to feed with: this amazes one; and in fact here are no inhabitants of dignity at all proportioned to the residences provided for them; so that when one sees the copies of antique bas-reliefs, in no bad sculpture, decorating the doors whence dangle a shoulder of mutton, or a shoemaker’s last, it either shocks one or makes one laugh, like the old Bartholomew trick of putting a baby’s face upon an old man’s shoulders, or sticking a king’s crown upon a peasant’s head.
The churches are very fine on the outside, but strangely plain within: that, however, where the royal body reposes looked solemn and stately in its mourning dress. Black velvet, with silver fringe and tassels very rich and heavy, hung over the pulpit, family seat, &c. and every thing struck one with an air of melancholy dignity. The king of Prussia’s corpse, no longer animated by ambition, rests quietly in an unornamented solid silver coffin, placed in a sort of closet above ground, the door to which opens close to the pulpit’s feet, and shews the narrow space which now holds his body, beside that of his father, and the great elector, as he is still justly called.