Part 2
To enable the merely English reader to feel, or at least understand, the interest attached to this grand series of paintings, without which it is impossible to do justice to the artist, it is necessary to give a slight sketch of the poem which he has thus magnificently illustrated.[7]
"This national epic, as it is justly termed by M. Von der Hagen, has lately attracted a most unprecedented degree of attention in Germany. It now actually forms a part of the philological courses in many of their universities, and it has been hailed with almost as much veneration as the Homeric songs. Some allowance must be made for German enthusiasm, but it cannot be denied that the Nibelungen Lied, though a little too bloody and dolorous, possesses extraordinary merits." The hero and heroine of this poem are Siegfried, (son of Siegmund, king of Netherland, and of Sighelind his queen,) and Chrimhilde, princess of Burgundy. Siegfried, or Sifrit, the Sigurd of the Scandinavian Sagas, is the favourite hero of the northern parts of Germany. His spear, "a mighty pine beam," was preserved with veneration at Worms; and there, in the church of St. Cecilia, he is supposed to have been buried. The German romances do not represent him as being of gigantic proportions, but they all agree that he became invulnerable by bathing in the blood of a dragon, which guarded the treasures of the Nibelungen, and which he overcame and killed; but it happened that as he bathed, a leaf fell and rested between his shoulders, and consequently, that one little spot, about a hand's breadth, still remained susceptible of injury. Siegfried also possesses the wondrous tarn-cap, which had the power of rendering the wearer invisible.
This formidable champion, after winning the love and the hand of the fair princess Chrimhilde, and performing a thousand valiant deeds, is treacherously murdered by the three brothers of Chrimhilde, Gunther, king of Burgundy, Ghiseler, Gernot, and their uncle Hagen, instigated by queen Brunhilde, the wife of Gunther. Chrimhilde meditates for years the project of a deep and deadly revenge on the murderers of her husband. This vengeance is in fact the subject of the Nibelungen Lied, as the wrath of Achilles is the subject of the Iliad.
The poem opens thus beautifully with a kind of argument of the whole eventful story.
"In ancient song and story marvels high are told Of knights of bold emprize and adventures mani-fold; Of joy and merry feasting, of lamenting, woe, and fear; Of champions' bloody battles many marvels shall ye hear.
A noble maid and fair, grew up in Burgundy, In all the land about fairer none might be; She became a queen full high, Chrimhild was she hight, But for her matchless beauty fell many a blade of might.
For love and for delight was framed that lady gay, Many a champion bold sighed for that gentle May; Beauteous was her form! beauteous without compare! The virgin's virtues might adorn many a lady fair.
Three kings of might had the maiden in their care, King Gunther and king Gernot, champions bold they were, And Ghiselar the young, a chosen peerless blade: The lady was their sister, and much they loved the maid."
Then follows an enumeration of the heroes in attendance on king Gunther: Haghen, the fierce; Dankwart, the swift; Volker, the minstrel knight; and others; "all champions bold and free;"--and then the poet proceeds to open the argument.
"One night the queen Chrimhild dreamt her as she lay, How she had trained and nourished a falcon, wild and gay; When suddenly two eagles fierce the gentle hawk have slain-- Never, in this world felt she such cruel pain!
To her mother, Uta, she told her dream with fear. Full mournfully she answered to what the maid did spier, 'The falcon, whom you cherished, a gentle knight is he: God take him to his ward! thou must lose him suddenly.'
'What speak you of the knight? dearest mother, say! Without the love of Champion, to my dying day, Ever thus fair will I remain, nor take a wedded fere To gain such pain and sorrow--though the knight were without peer!'
'Speak not thou too rashly!' her mother spake again. 'If ever in this world, thou heart-felt joy wilt gain, Maiden must thou be no more; Leman must thou have. God will grant thee for thy mate, some gentle knight and brave.'
'O leave thy words, lady mother; speak not of wedded mate, Full many a gentle maiden hath found the truth too late: Still has their fondest love ended with woe and pain; Virgin will I ever be, nor the love of Leman gain.'
In virtues high and noble that gentle maiden dwelt, Full many a night and day, nor love for Leman felt. To never a knight or champion would she plight her virgin truth, Till she was gained for wedded fere by a right noble youth.
That youth, he was the falcon, she in her dream beheld, Who by the two fierce eagles, dead to the ground was fell'd: But since right dreadful vengeance she took upon his foen; For the death of that bold hero, died full many a mother's son."
After this exordium the story commences, the first half ending with the assassination of Siegfried.
Some years after the murder of Siegfried, Chrimhilde gives her hand to Etzel, (or Attila,) king of the Huns, in order that through his power and influence she may be enabled to execute her long-cherished schemes of vengeance. The assassins accordingly, and all their kindred and followers, are induced to visit King Etzel at Vienna, where, by the instigation of Chrimhilde, a deadly feud arises; in the course of which almost the whole army on both sides are cruelly slaughtered. By the powerful, but reluctant aid of Dietrich of Bern,[8] Hagen, the murderer of Siegfried, is at last vanquished, and brought bound to the feet of the queen, who at once raises the sword of her departed hero, and with her own hand strikes off the head of his enemy. Hildebrand instantly avenges the atrocious and unhospitable act, by stabbing the queen, who falls exulting on the body of her hated victim.
When Gunther's arms, and those of his brothers and champions, are brought to Worms, Brunhilde repents too late of her treachery to Siegfried, and the old queen Uta dies of grief. As to King Etzel, the poet professes himself ignorant, "whether he died in battle, or was taken up to heaven, or fell out of his skin, or was swallowed up by the devil;" leaving to his reader the choice of these singular catastrophes;--and thus the story ends.[9]
The rivalry between Chrimhilde and her amazonian sister-in-law, Brunhilde, forms the most interesting and amusing episode in the poem; and the characters of the two queens--the fierce haughty Brunhilde, and the impassioned, devoted, confiding Chrimhilde--(whom the very excess of conjugal love converts into a relentless fury,) are admirably discriminated. "The work is divided into thirty-eight books, or _adventures_; and besides a liberal allowance of sorcery and wonders, contains a great deal of clear and animated narrative, and innumerable curious and picturesque traits of the manners of the age. The characters of the different warriors, as well as those of the two queens, and their heroic consorts, are very naturally and powerfully drawn--especially that of Hagen, the murderer of Siegfried, in whom the virtues of an heroic and chivalrous leader are strangely united with the atrocity and impenitent hardihood of an assassin.
"The author of the Lay of the Nibelungen has not been ascertained. In its present form it must have existed between the twelfth and thirteenth centuries;--this is proved by the language; but the manners, tone, thoughts, and actions, which are all in perfect keeping, bear testimony to an antiquity far beyond that of the present dress of the poem."
Here then was a boundless, an inexhaustible fund of inspiration for such a painter as Julius Schnorr; and his poetical fancy appears to have absolutely revelled in the grand, the gay, the tragic subjects afforded to his creative pencil.
In the first room, immediately over the entrance, he has represented the poet, or presumed author of the Nibelungen--an inspired figure, attended by two listening genii. On each side, but a little lower down, are two figures looking towards him; on one side a beautiful female, striking a harp, and attended by a genius crowned with roses--represents song or poesy. On the other side, a sybil listening to the voice of Time, represents tradition. The figures are all colossal.
Below, on each side of this door, are two beautiful groups. That to the right of the spectator represents Siegfried and Chrimhilde. She is leaning on the shoulder of her warlike husband with an air of the most inimitable and graceful abandonment in her whole figure: a falcon sits upon her hand, on which her eyes are turned with the most profound expression of tenderness and melancholy; she is thinking upon her dream, in which was foreshadowed the early and terrible doom of her husband.
It is said at Munich, that the wife of Schnorr, an exquisitely beautiful woman, whom he married under romantic circumstances, was the model of his Chrimhilde, and that one of her spontaneous attitudes furnished the idea of this exquisite group, on which I never look without emotion. The depth and splendour of the colouring adds to the effect. The figures are rather above the size of life.
On the opposite side of the door, as a _pendant_, we have Gunther, and his queen, Brunhilde. He holds one of her hands, with a deprecating expression. She turns from him with an averted countenance, exhibiting in her whole look and attitude, grief, rage, and shame. It is evident that she has just made the fatal discovery of her husband's obligations to Siegfried, which urges her to the destruction of the latter. I have heard travellers ignorantly criticise the grand, and somewhat exaggerated forms of Brunhilde, as being "really quite coarse and unfeminine." In the poem she is represented as possessing the strength of twelve men; and when Hagen sees her throw a spear, which it required four warriors to lift, he exclaims to her alarmed suitor, King Gunther,
"Aye! how is it, King Gunther? here must you tine your life! The lady you would gain, well might be the devil's wife!"
It is by the secret assistance of Siegfried, and his tarn-cap, that Gunther at length vanquishes and humbles this terrible heroine, and she avenges her humiliation by the murder of Siegfried.
Around the room are sixteen full-length portraits of the other principal personages who figure in the Nibelungen Lied--_portraits_ they may well be called, for their extraordinary spirit, and truth of character. In one group we have the fierce Hagen, the courteous Dankwart, and between them, Volker tuning his viol; of him it is said--
Bolder and more knight-like fiddler, never shone the sun upon,
and he plays a conspicuous part in the catastrophe of the poem.
Opposite to this group, we have queen Uta, the mother of Chrimhilde, between her sons, Gernot and Ghiselar: in another compartment, Siegmund and Sighelind, the father and mother of Siegfried.
Over the window opposite to the entrance, Hagen is consulting the mermaids of the Danube, who foretell the destruction which awaits him at the court of Etzel: and lower down on each side of the window, King Etzel with his friend Rudiger, and those faithful companions in arms, old Hildebrand and Dietrich of Bern. The power of invention, the profound feeling of character, and extraordinary antiquarian knowledge displayed in these figures, should be seen to be understood. Those which most struck me (next to Chrimhilde and her husband) were the figures of the daring Hagen and the venerable queen Uta.
On the ceiling, which is vaulted, and enriched with most gorgeous ornaments, intermixed with heraldic emblazonments, are four small compartments in fresco: in which are represented, the marriage of Siegfried and Chrimhilde, the murder of Siegfried, the vengeance of Chrimhilde, and the death of Chrimhilde. These are painted in vivid colours on a black ground.
On the whole, on looking round this most splendid and interesting room, I could find but one fault: I could have wished that the ornaments on the walls and ceiling (so rich and beautiful to the eye) had been more completely and consistently gothic in style; they would then have harmonized better with the subjects of the paintings.
In the next room, the two sides are occupied by two grand frescos, each about five-and-twenty feet in length, and covering the whole wall. In the first, Siegfried brings the kings of Saxony and Denmark prisoners to the court of king Gunther. The second represents the reception of the victorious Siegfried by the two queens, Uta and Chrimhilde. This is the first interview of the lovers, and furnishes one of the most admired passages in the poem.
"And now the beauteous lady, like the rosy morn, Dispersed the misty clouds; and he who long had borne In his heart the maiden, banish'd pain and care, As now before his eyes stood the glorious maiden fair.
From her embroidered garment, glittered many a gem, And on her lovely cheek, the rosy red did gleam; Whoever in his glowing soul had imaged lady bright, Confessed that fairer maiden never stood before his sight.
And as the moon at night, stands high the stars among, And moves the mirky clouds above, with lustre bright and strong; So stood before her maidens, that maid without compare: Higher swelled the courage of many a champion there."
Between the two doors there is the marriage of Siegfried and Chrimhilde. The second of these frescos is nearly finished; of the others I only saw the cartoons, which are magnificent. The third room will contain, arranged in the same manner, three grand frescos, representing 1st. the scene in which the rash curiosity of Chrimhilde prevails over the discretion of her husband, and he gives her the ring and the girdle which he had snatched as trophies from the vanquished Brunhilde.[10] 2ndly. The death of Siegfried, assassinated by Hagen, who stabs the hero in the back, as he stoops to drink from the forest-well. And 3rdly. The body of Siegfried exposed in the cathedral at Worms, and watched by Chrimhilde, "who wept three days and three nights by the corse of her murdered lord, without food and without sleep."
The fourth room will contain the second marriage of Chrimhilde; her complete and sanguinary vengeance; and her death. None of these are yet in progress. But the three cartoons of the death of Siegfried; the marriage of Siegfried and Chrimhilde; and the fatal curiosity of Chrimhilde, I had the pleasure of seeing in Professor Schnorr's studio at the academy; I saw at the same time his picture of the death of the emperor Frederic Barbarossa, which has excited great admiration here, but I confess I do not like it; nor do I think that Schnorr paints as well in oils as in fresco--the latter is certainly his forte.
Often have I walked up and down these superb rooms, looking up at Schnorr and his assistants, and watching intently the preparation and the process of the fresco painting--and often I thought, "What would some of our English painters--Etty, or Hilton, or Briggs, or Martin--O what would they give to have two or three hundred feet of space before them, to cover at will with grand and glorious creations,--scenes from Chaucer, or Spenser, or Shakspeare, or Milton, proudly conscious that they were painting for their country and posterity, spurred on by the spirit of their art and national enthusiasm, and generously emulating each other!" Alas! how different!--with us such men as Hilton and Etty illustrate annuals, and the genius of Turner shrinks into a vignette!
I should add, before I throw down my weary pen, that every part of the new palace, from the _ensemble_ down to the minutest details of the ornaments (the paintings excepted) has been designed by De Klenze, who executed seven hundred drawings with his own hand for this palace alone, without reckoning his designs for the Glyptothek and the Pinakothek.
This has been a busy and exciting day. Then in the evening a _soiree_--music--
* * * * *
O quite tired in spirits, in voice, in mind, in heart, in frame!
_Oct. 14th._--Accompanied by my kind friend, Madame de K----, and conducted by Roekel, the painter, I visited the unfinished chapel adjoining the new palace. It is painted (or rather _painting_) in fresco, on a gold ground, with extraordinary richness and beauty, uniting the old Greek, or rather Byzantine manner, with the old Italian style of decoration. It reminded me, in the general effect, of the interior of St. Mark's at Venice,--but, of course, the details are executed in a grander feeling, and in a much higher style of art. The pillars are of the native marble, and the walls will be covered with a kind of Mosaic of various marbles, intermixed with ornaments in relief, in gilding, in colours--all combined, and harmonizing together. The ceiling is formed of two large domes or cupolas. In the first is represented the Old Testament: in the very centre, the Creator; in a circle round him, the six days' creation. Around this again, in a larger circle, the building of the ark; the Deluge; the sacrifice of Noah; and the first covenant. In the four corners, the colossal figures of the patriarchs, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. These are designed in a very grand and severe style. The second cupola is dedicated to the New Testament. In the centre, the Redeemer: around him four groups of cherubs, three in each group. We were on the scaffold erected for the painters--near enough to remark the extreme beauty and various expression in these heads, which must, I am afraid, be lost when viewed from below. Around, in a circle, the twelve apostles; and in the four corners, the four evangelists, corresponding with the four patriarchs in the other dome. In the arch between the two domes, as connecting the Old and New Testaments, we have the Nativity and other scenes from the life of the Virgin. In the arch at the farthest end will be placed the Crucifixion, as the consummation of all.
The painter to whom the direction of the whole work has been entrusted, is professor Heinrich Haess, (or Hess,) one of the most celebrated of the German historical painters. He was then employed in painting the Nativity, stretched upon his back on a sort of inclined chair. Notwithstanding the inconvenience and even peril of leaving his work while the plaster was wet, he came down from his giddy height to speak to us, and explained the general design of the whole. I expressed my honest admiration of the genius, and the grand feeling displayed in many of the figures; and, in particular, of the group he was then painting, of which the extreme simplicity charmed me; but as honestly, I expressed my surprise that nothing _new_ in the general style of the decoration had been attempted; a representation of the Omnipotent Being was merely excusable in more simple and unenlightened times, when the understandings of men could only be addressed through their senses--and merely tolerable, when Michael Angelo gave us that grand personification of Almighty Power moving "on the wings of the wind" to the creation of the first man. But now, in these thinking, reasoning times, it is not so well to venture into those paths, upon which daring Genius, supported by blind Faith, rushed without fear, because without a doubt. The theory of religion belongs to poetry, and its practice to painting. I was struck by the wonderful stateliness of the ornaments and borders used in decorating these sacred subjects: they are neither Greek, nor gothic, nor arabesque--but composed merely of simple forms and straight lines, combined in every possible manner, and in every variety of pure colour. One might call them _Byzantine_; at least, they reminded me of what I had seen in the old churches at Venice and Pisa.
I was pleased by the amiable and open manners of professor Hess. Much of his life has been spent in Italy, and he speaks Italian well, but no French. In general, the German artists absolutely detest and avoid the language and literature of France, but almost all speak Italian, and many can read, if they do not speak, English. He told me that he had spent two years on the designs and cartoons for this chapel; he had been painting here daily for the last two years, and expected to be able to finish the whole in about two years and a half more: thus giving six years and a half, or more probably seven years, to this grand task. He has four pupils, or assistants, besides those employed in the decorations only.
_Oct. 15th._--After dinner we drove through the beautiful English garden--a public promenade--which is larger and more diversified than Kensington Gardens; but the trees are not so fine, being of younger growth. A branch of the Isar rolls through this garden, sometimes an absolute torrent, deep and rapid, foaming and leaping along, between its precipitous banks,--sometimes a strong but gentle stream, flowing "at its own sweet will" among smooth lawns. Several pretty bridges cross it with "airy span;" there are seats for repose, and cafes and houses where refreshment may be had, and where, in the summer-time, the artisans and citizens of Munich assemble to dance on the Sunday evenings;--altogether it was a beautiful day, and a delightful drive.
In the evening at the opera with the ambassadress and a large party. It was the queen's fete, and the whole court was present. The theatre was brilliantly illuminated--crowded in every part: in short, it was all very gay and very magnificent; as to hearing a single note of the opera, (the Figaro,) that was impossible; so I resigned myself to the conversation around me. "Are you fond of music?" said I, innocently, to a lady whose volubility had ceased not from the moment we entered the box. "Moi! si je l'aime!--mais avec passion!" And then without pause or mercy continued the same incessant flow of _spirituel_ small-talk while Scheckner-Wagen and Meric, now brought for the first time into competition, and emulous of each other,--one pouring forth her full _sostenuto_ warble, like a wood-lark,--the other trilling and running divisions, like a nightingale--were uniting their powers in the "Sull' Aria;" but though I could not hear I could see. I was struck to-night more than ever by the singular dignity of the demeanour of Madame Scheckner-Wagen. She is not remarkable for beauty, nor is there any thing of the common made-up theatrical grace in her deportment--still less does she remind us of queen Medea--queen Pasta, I should say--the imperial syren who drowned her own identity and ours together in her "cup of enchanted sounds;"--no--but Scheckner-Wagen treads the stage with the air of a high-bred lady, to whom applause or censure are things indifferent--and yet with an exceeding modesty. In short, I never saw an actress who inspired such an immediate and irresistible feeling of respect and interest for the individual _woman_. I do not say that this is the _ne plus ultra_ of good acting--on the contrary; though it is a mistake to imagine that the moral character of an actress or a singer goes for nothing with an audience--but of this more at some future time. Madame Scheckner's style of singing has the same characteristic simplicity and dignity: her voice is of a fine full quality, well cultivated, well managed. I have known her a little indolent and careless at times, but never forced or affected; and I am told that in some of the grand classical German operas, Gluck's Iphigenia, for instance, her acting as well as her singing is admirable.