m BHHB +4045 016 01 sht aosieihbap vY .? ?$#A*' «w HHEMfl !8hu^ äH 3SS«T ■_______ xiäKS«a^ea^ SSSS THE UPPER RH INE: THE SCENEKY OF ITS BANKS AND THE MANNERS OP ITS PEOPLE. % 1 :r > "P 'W Tv'- -M -H ■■)' !-N \ \ i) I TS P1CT1 I \'\ o Q> II E ÄIugfrafH .in) v) rc t wr w C E M E B o a x Ji» m m •> ■ IL O N O © N : &EOK.GTE ROHJTJLEilxeE & C? FARRraCDON ST MET % THE UPPEE EHINE THE SCENERY OF ITS BANKS AND THE MANNEBS OF ITS PEOPLE. ILLUSTRATED BY BIRKE T FOSTER. DESCEIBED BY HENEY MAYHEW. MAYENCE TO THE LAKE OE CONSTANCE. LONDON: ROUTLEDGE, WARNE, & KOUTLEDGE, FARRINGDON STREET. NEW YORK: 56, WALKEß STKEET. 1860. r. LANDES- UUD STADT- 1 aJB.iK.rilEK b u ::: II llll PREFACE. The present volume is necessarily somewliat discursive in its arrangement, owing to the Interpolation of tho descriptions illustrative of the illustrations. Tliere is, howcver, a metliod in its apparent incolierence. It consists of two parts, which, though involved, are neverfhe- less distinct—the one descriptive and the other critieal: this explaining the peculiar aspect of certain scenes and places in the Upper Rhine; and that treating of and testing the manners and opinions of the people of tho Rhenish capital, according to the ethieal and political Standards of our own country. With respect to the so-called " Interpolated Scenes," they have been interspersed through the more connected matter of the book, simply for the purpose of distributing the engravings uni- formly throughout the volume ; while the descriptions have been, generally, written with the object of giving the untravelled reader somcthing like a sense of the places touched upon. This pen-and-ink delineation of stränge places, or making known the unknown, is no very easy task—especially by means of a non-imitative art like literature; for it is as difficult to convey in words a sense of even the simple process of tying a shoe, as it is to produce in music a " movement descriptive of a gentleman changing his religion." Of all painting, word-painting is perhaps the most difficult and subtle. It is worse than " writing on water," being indeed a species of drawing in tho air—a style of spectral landscape. PKEFA.CE. sketching, wliero sounds, ideas, and Imagination have to do duty for pencil, colours, and canvas. It can only attain its end suggestively — tliat is to say, by making the reader conjure up in liis own mind tho imago that the author desires to present to it. High-class litcrary description is, so to speak, a continual series of gliost-raisings—tho excitation of a succession of pictorial apparitions ; so that a kind of phantom panorama, or visionary drama (according as we are treating of men or places), shall flit before " the mind's eye" with all the " counterfeit presentment" and illusive reality of a dream. There are three ways, apparently, of describing unknown objects, — (1), By detailing the qualities or circumstances in connexion with them ; (2), By comparing them to some known objects ; and (3), By setting forth the effects or feelings producod by them. The first constitutes, in its literal phase, the " cataloguing " process, and belongs rather to the plainness of science than to the coloured rhetoric of literature ; whilst, in its picturesque aspect, it not only approaches the coneiseness of logical definition, but in seizing upon the literary "essence," as it were, or signal peculiarity of an object, discovers the precise point of Cognition and re-cog- nition in connexion with it-—that is to say, the one particular quality by which it is immediately apprehended in the mind; and thus, instead of clouding the idea with a mass of words, conjures up in the fancy a sudden and vivid image of the thing, scene, or character intended. Shakspeare and Milton possessed this picturesque power of description to a wondrous degree. Tho second mode of description, or that which conveys an idea of unknown objects by comparing them to known ones, is at once brilliant and striking. The simile, indeed, is essentially a figure of enlightenment as well as beauty. Not only is there an exquisite charm in discovering some unexpected resemblance (and this, indeed, is the main source of the pleasure produced by imitative arts in general), but the very vividness of the " gay sur- prise" which is excited by the eunning of the comparison serves TEEFACE. also to intensify tlie pcrception of the idea souglit to be convcyed, and thus at once to illuminate and colour the text—like a flood of light suddenly lct in througb. some bright painted window. The last descriptive process, or that which deals with the effect ratlier than the object itself, is, however, the highest and most artistic of all. This constitutes the mythic and poetic methods of representation, conveying a sense of the object by means of the feelings it inspires. Thus the flelds are made to " smile," the brooks to "murmur," and " the joeund morn to stand tiptoe on the misty mountain top," whilst the gladdening and maddening spirit of wine is typifled as a youthful god wrapped in a tiger's skin, and attended by a train of dancing satyrs. There is, indeed, a high and low style of word-painting, as with all the representative forms of art. The literal, or cataloguing method of literary description, hardly ranks as an artistic process, any more than pictures of " still lifo," or " railway overtures," or " farm-yard symphonies" — or any other merely imitative rather than suggestive species of rendering — can be regarded as sesthetic Performances. For as the photograph gives but the particular and accidental look of an individual for the mere moment that he is in front of the camera, whilst high-class portraiture depicts the gcneral expression distinctive of the cha- raeter of the man, and thus paints his very spirit as it wcro — cven so the "invontory-taking" style of literature, which is so populär at the present day, utterly fails in rendering the pictur- esque features and feeling of a scene or a place—the genius loci, as it were — the mythic and unseen spirit, haunting the land- scape as the dryads of old were supposed to do, and lighting it up like a soul. The author is well aware how signally he has failed in reach- ing the Standard of excellence he has laid down. Indeed, it is the misfortune of every work of art that it ncver sat.isfies the educated artist himself; none can be so fully cognisant of his short-comings, or so sour a critic to his work, as he wlio knows best the choice composition he meant to produce, and the sorry Vlll l'REFACE. daub he has turned out. " Ah, you should see thc books I haven't written !" said Rousseau to a fricnd who was praising his works. Let the writer of the present volume speak, therefore, only of what he purposed at the coramencement of his task. In the description of the Rhino Falls he was desirous of seeing whether it were possible, by mere verbal signs, to convey a conception of the " largest cataract in Europe " to those who had never visited the spot. In the articles, on the other band, upon Worms and the " Concilium's Saal" at Constanz, his object was to use the local associations as means of conjuring up a livelier sense of the early struggles of the Reformation ; whilst in the chapter on Strasburg ho wished not only to impress the reader with a sense of the picturesque mongrel character of the town — (French in its government-institutions, German in the manners and customs of its people, and Dutch in its canal-lined streets), but also to paint in words the choice Gothic grace of its Cathedral, as well as the curious automaton movements of its celebrated clock. In the other " Seenes," however, he proposed merely to render such peculiarities of the places as would serve to give those at home a rough ideal of the Rhenish country and the towns. With reference to the more continuous portion of the book — tbat which professes to give an account of the Domestic Manncrs of the Rhenish Prussians — it should be explained, that it is an attempt to regard German society and German character from a purely English point of view. It has long appeared to the author, that travelling southward from England is like going backward in time'—every ten degrees of latitude corresponding to about a hundred years in history; for as in France we see society in the same corrupt and uncomfortable state as prevailed in our own nation at the beginning of the present Century, so in Germany we find the people at least a hundred years behind us in all the refinements of civilisation and "progress;" whilst in Spain, we are assured, we live a positive mediseval life, among the same dirt and intellectual darkness, the same beggary and bigotry, as PKEFACE. preceded tlio Reformation in our own land. In Russia, again, we find the state of villeinage and serfdom still existing; wliilst in Central Africa, among the Asliantees, we reacli tlie absolute con- dition of nature and barbarism. It is difficult to make foreigners understand tliis : as a rule, even our Gallic neighbours are supremely ignorant of Englisli institutions and Englisli liabits ; indeed, we have but to take up a French drama or a French novel, of which tlie sceno is laid in England, to perceivo that the intelligent and educated classes of France know no more of us than they do of the Esquimaux. Nor is it possible to make Continental people comprehend the social and moral enormities that offend Englisli families directly they set foot on foreign soil. The more refined sense ofdecency, which makes us regard their liabits in many cases as littlc better than bestial, they look upon as mere affectation and squeamishness on our part; for as scavengors and dustmen are never seen with flowers at their button-hole, even so those who are accustomed to physieal and moral filth become utterly insensible to the delicate graces of life. It is customary for vain-glorious Frenchmen to speak of their country as " la plus civilisee du monde;" but, surely, if morals, comfort, and mechanical devclopments are to be taken as the tests of civilisation—rather than fashion, show, and bowing and scraping •—Englishmen can say with justice that there is no nation, either past or present, which will, for a moment, admit of comparison with their own. Thcro is an inner life pervading the heart of England, graced with home-feelings and affections, that renders our national character, in a measure, a sealed book to foreigners. On the Continent, however, all is cxternal life and outward display: people live out of doors, and wear their hearts on their sleeves, for ever tapping at their bosoms—like vintners do at wine-casks—-to show how füll they are. There are no internal Springs of action,—as with puppets, they are all movcd from with- out. You want hardly " six lessons" to study a foreigner,—you know him "all through" in a fcw quiet half-hours. There is no X PKEFACE, nccessity in bis case to crack the nut in order to discover tlie "maggot" in it,— for, in true butterfly fashion, it crecps out of its own accord. At the very first sitting, Frenclimen dclight to teil you everything about themselves ; taking care, of course—like persons who eome to liave tlicir portrait taken—to trick themselves out in all their best: so that, if you be at all skilled in moral photography, you requiro to see them'only for a short time afterwards—just to know the preeise colours in whicli to paint them. We appear, however, in our modern love of masquerading in French fashions, and aping French manners, to be losing a good part of our native honesty and simplicity. Instead of following nature, wo copy, like poor artists, from mere dressed-up dolls or lay-flgures. Old English hospitality is fast passing into thoso mere dress parades termed "receptions," and friendship growing as obsolete among us as chivalry ; while Dean-Paulism and British- Bankolatry show that religion and charity are lapsing into a mere species of pharisaical " trumpet-blowing," or social and commercial pufifery (your Bank Director always entering into his "closet" when he prays, but never " shutting the door")—a trick of trade,— a eonvenient screen behind whicli to sand the sugar—a "stall" to cover pickpockets. The materials for that portion of the present volume which treats of the manners of the Bhenish Prussians have been classified under six heads: — 1. The Household Arrangements of the people, including the various domestic appliances, means of comfort, and habits of cleanliness and decency among them. 2. The Style of Living; under which head is given an account of the species of food, mode of cooking, and manners at table pre- vailing in Rhincland. 3. The Classes of Amüsement that are generally populär. 4. The Forms of Etiquette and " Manners" in the more limited senso of the term. PKEFACE. 5. The Family Customs: such as those usual at birth, mar- riagc, and death, and the feelings uniting the several members of tlie " housc,"—father with sons, husband witli wife. 6. The Opinions, Sentiments, and Creed of tlie people: the Opinions setting forth their intellectual condition, the Sentiments indicating their moral State, and the Creed showing the amount of enlightened religion among them. Now to those who are in the habit of hurrying through Ger- many at the same rate as Queen's messengers, and whose know- ledge of the people is limited to such as are seen in Anglicised hoteis, the view here given of the national character may perhaps appear somewhat harsh and prejudiced; whilst bookworms (who in their estimate of the German mind reflect the light of such intellects as Jean Paul Richter, Goethe and Schiller — Kant, Hegel and Fichte — as well as Schlegel and Niebuhr—Liebig, Argelander, and Bessel, over tlie whole people, and bolieve every German to be a small philosopher and great sceptic) will doubt- lessly find cause to quarrel with us about the low mental averago wo have Struck for the entire nation. It should be borne in mind, however, that the great body of English people are neither Shakspeares nor Newtons ; nevertheless, it is but due to ourselves to add, that our opinions on the thoughts and manners of the people have been drawn chiefly from the more enlightened por- tion of the middle classes— such as professors, teachers, and professional men in general; for with the aristocracy of the country we profess no acquaintance, and with the artizans and labourers we may probably deal on a future oecasion. Finally, the general reader may fancy, that in the chapters comparing the intellectual condition of the Rhenish Prussians with that of our own people we have gone upon the fabular principle that " there is nothing like leather," and attributed too much to the influence of the English press in the formation of the English character. But when the social condition of this country at the present time is contrasted with that prevailing at the latter end of the last Century, and the question asked, " What Xll PREFACE. new Institution has been developed among us since that pcriod to which such a change can be fairly ascribed?"—tliere is, so far as we know, but one answer. Assuredly tlie moral and social im- provement of our peoplo cannot bc referred to increased energy and zeal among the elergy, or to our more enlightened government of lato years, for tlicsc ave themselves tlic consequences rather than tlie causes of the reform. In a word, a new power has sprung up among us—a means of knowledge as vast as the very inventions of the aiphabet and moveable types themselves — a moral court of judicature, where the public acts of all men are daily tried ; ay, and though we ourselves belong to the fraternity, let us add, in all conscience — tried by judges as honourable, fair, and upright, as those men of iron integrity, the legal barons themselves. Consequently, where no such social and political machinery as a free and honourable press exists, we should expect to find society in the same corrupt stato as it was with ourselves a hundred years ago. A trip across the Channel enables us to put the matter to the test of facts.* * P.S.— The German names of the towns and places have heen adopted throughout this book, in preference to those barbarous French corruptions of the local titles which are in common use. It may, on a cursory consideration, smack somewhat of pedantry to persist in ealling the town which the French dub Cologne by its native cognomen of Köln; as well as Maijence, Mainz; Spires, Speier; Bäle, Basel, Sic. ; but, surely, we ■night with as much philological reason speak of " Wilhelm Meister" under the French " incognito" of " Maitre Guillaume." The term Cologne is a clumsy attempt to convey, by altered orthography, the sound of the German Köln to French ears : as, however, the change of spelling cannot possibly aid Englishmen in apprehending the German pronunciation, little or no good can result, and a great deal of inconvenienee may, from a continuance of the barbarism. Besides, the rule with us (for mere postal convenience) is to write foreign names of places aecording to their local orthography, and not aecording to their local pronunciation. Thus, the title we give to the French capital is Paris, because Frenchmen so write it; and not Parrhy, because Frenchmen so pronounce it. The French, however, adopt a different rule, and delight to call London, Londres; Dover, Douvres; Aachen, Aix-la-Chapelle, Sic.; though, surely, there is no reason for our adopting such verbal absurdities. CONTENTS. DOMESTIC MANNERS OF THE PRUSSIANS . PAGE 1 I. HOUSEHOLD ARRANGEMENTS. § 1. Lodgings, Stovcs, Beds, and Bed-chambers ... 7 [Inlerpolated Rhenish Scenes — Oppenheim] . 21 § 2. Modes of Clcaning, and Habits of Cleaulincss and Deoenoy........ 26 [Interpolated Rhenish Scenes —• Worms] . . 32 II. STYLE OF LIVING. § 1. The kind of Meat, Horseflesh, Black Bread, Coffee, &c. consumed by tho Pcople ..... 47 [Interpolated Rhenish Scenes — Mannheim] . 59 § 2. The Rhenish "Vin Ordinaire"—Cooking—Dinners— and Manners at Table......64 [Interpolated Rhenish Scenes — Speier] . . 82 III. CLASSES OF AMÜSEMENT. § 1. Sense of Comfort and Luxury—Ideas of "Home"— Casinos, Coneerts, and "Kermeses"—Wine-Gar- dens—Shooting-Feasts—Drinking and Smoking . 97 [Interpolated Rhenish Scenes — Heidelberg] . 119 § 2. The absence of all Athletio Sports—Love of Music— The Parade-Ground on a Sunday—Gambling— " Coffee-drinkings" and Balls . . . .131 [Interpolated Rhenish Scenes — Strasburg] . 149 IV. FORMS OF ETIQUETTE AND "MANNERS." § 1. "Red Eagles"—Titles—and Models of Letter-writing 172 [Interpolated Rhenish Scenes — Freiburg] . 183 XIV CONTENTS. FORMS OF ETIQUETTE AND "MANNERS" (continued). § 2. Feminine Honours—Low-bred look of the Prussian " Excellcnces" and "Magnificenccs"—Forms of Politeness—Bowing in the Streets—Importance ofthe "Blick" ....... 191 [Interpolated Rhenish Scenes — Basel] . . 203 V. FAMILY CUSTOMS. § 1. Customs at Marriage, Courtship, and Betrotlial—Public Love-Making— "Dutzening" —The" Polter- Abend" (the Bridal Eve)—The " Aus-statung" (the Mar- riage-Dowry) and "Hoch-Zeit" (Wedding-Feast) . 227 [Interpolated Rhenish Scenes — Rhelnfelden] 247 § 2. Respect for Women—Domestic Feeling among the Married Classes—Divorces^—and Public Vice . 251 [Interpolated Rhenish Scenes — Laufenborg] 265 §3. Customs at Birth—" Wickel-kind"-~hoo& — Feeling between Fathcr and Son—"Clanship" . . 268 [Interpolated Rhenish Scenes — Eqlisau] . 279 § 4. Customs at Death — German Cemctcries — Death- Omcns—Dcath - Sacranients— Death-Bills—Fear of being Buried Alive—Funcrals — and Time of Mourning........282 [InterpolatedRhenish Seenes — Schaffhausen] 299 VI. OPLNIONS, SENTIMENTS, AND CREED .... 305 [Interpolated Rhenish Scenes — The Rhine Falls by Schaffhausen] . . . 307 § 1. The Intellectual Condition—Knowledge of Latin and Greek—Scientific Ignorauce—Teutonic Savants —Worldly Stupidity—Want of Scientific Appli- ances—a German Fii-c—a Philo-Cockchafer . 31S [Interpolated Rhenish Scenes — The Lake of Constanz and Islands of Mainau and Reichenau] ...... 331 ^f i. Ignorant Superstition—"HolyCoat" of Treves —Educational Test—The Dumb Press of Germany.......343 [Interpolated Rhenish Scenes — The City of CONSTANZ] . . . . . 360 CONTENTS. OPINIONS, SENTIMENTS, AND CREED (continued). § 2. Of the Moral Creed of thc Prussians—Duolling— Sense of Fair Play—Wellington and Blücher— English and Foreign Judges—Deficient Gentle- manly Feeling—Treatment of Poor and Servants 367 [Interpolated Bhenish Seenes — The " Conct- lium's Saal" at Constanz] . . .381 § 3. The Religious Creed ofthc Prussians—Religious In- toloranee among Seets—Governmental Interfer- ence—Religious Hypocrisy—Confessional Spies —Religious Displays, &c......406 [Interpolated Bhenish Seenes — Friedrichshafen] .......417 *\ i. Religious Creed continued — A Modern Pro- phecy—Canonized Dolls—Pharisaical Pro- ccssions and Public Praying . . . 421 [Interpolated Bhenish Seenes — Lindau] . 426 § 4. Political Condition of the Prussians — Limits of En- lightened Public Government—Political Wickelkinder —" Conccssions" to earn aLiving—Potatoes displacing Black Brcad—Extreme Poverty—Mean- ness—a Royal Banquet.....429 [Interpolated Bhenish Seenes — Bregexz] . 442 LIST OF PLATES, Jfnmt gratomgs h% §5ixkei Jfoster. PLATES. I. THE ISLAND OF REICHENAU BY THE LAKE OF CONSTANZ (UNTER See) (Vignette) II. OPPENHEIM III. WORMS IV. MANNHEIM . V. SPEIER VI. HEIDELBERG VII. STRASBURG . VIII. FREIBURG . IX. BASEL X. RHEINFELDEN XI. LAUFENBURG XII. EGLISAU XIII. SCHAFFHAUSEN XIV. THE RH [NE FALLS BY SCHAFFHAUSEN XV. TUE LAKE OF CONSTANZ, AND THE ISLAND OF MAINAU ....... XVI. THE CITY OF CONSTANZ, AS SEEN FROM TfTE HARBOUR ...... XVII. THE COUNCIL-HALL AT CONSTANZ . XVIII. FRIEDIUCHSHAFEN ..... XIX. LINDAU ....... XX. BREGENZ ....... ENGRAVED UNDEK TUE SUPE1UNTENDENCE OF MR. E. I. ROBERTS. ENGRAVERS. TAGE s. BRADSHAW E. I. ROBERTS 21 E I. ROBERTS 32 E. I. ROBERTS 50 w CAPON 82 E I. ROBERTS 119 A. WILLMORE . 149 A WILLMORE . 183 E I. ROBERTS . 203 E. I. ROBERTS 247 E J. ROBERTS 205 S. BRADSHAW . 279 E L ROBERTS 299 A. WILLMORE 307 A. WILLMORE 331 E I. ROBERTS 3(i0 E. I. ROBERTS 381 E. BRANDARD 417 E. BRANDARD 4?7 S. BRADSHAW 442 THE RHINE. DOMESTIC MANNEES OF TUE PEUSSIANS. The surest way to make an Englishman love his country is to send him out of it. At home, John Bull is so proud of the liberty of grumbling, that he delights in cxercising the glorious bilious privilege whenever his dinner has disagreed with him. A true-born Briton gives vent to his indignation and indiges- tion in national abuse of the cabinet ministers, and growls aloud for " the right inen in the right places." We groan audibly in the "Times" under the pressure of the income-tax. We cry out lustily from the platform at the number of our placemen, and raise our voices as patriotic, "constant readers," against the jobbery, bribery, and corruption that we declare to pre- vail throughout the land. The British labourer, it is said, is " crushcd under the chariot-wheels of a Juggernaut oligarchy;" and in no country, we are assured, are the poor so multi- tudinous, so pitiable, and yet so despised and neglected, as with us. But two hours' sea-sickness, and the cloud of discontent is for ever dispelled from our brain. Once across the Channel, VOL. II. B // DOMESTIC MANNEHS OF THE PHUSSIANS. our vision is no longer bleared by narrow experience; for no sooner do we find ourselves in the land of passports—■ and sabriferous policemen — and military tide-waiters—and daily papers no bigger than play-bills, and less informing and informed than village gossips — and bread tariffs — and spies— and uncovered sewers like small Dutch canals, polluting every highway — and bearded bed-makers—and bare-boarded sitting- rooms—and water-carriers — and public temples to Cloacina, where the Vestal moneytaker sits unabashed, reading the last sentimental novei—no sooner, we say, do we find ourselves amid such abominations, than even the least squeamish of English gentlemen is forced to throw up bis hands and eye- brows, and thank his stars that he was born and educated on this side of the Dover Straits. In Prussia—or rather that part of it known as the Rhine- land (and be it understood, once for all, that our observations here refer to the Rhenish provinces only)—we see people in the same state as prevailed in the remote villages of our own country, according to accredited writers, a hundred years ago. In Dr. John Davy's life of his brother Sir Humphry, there is a picturesque account of the habits and manners of the inhabitants of Penzance towards the latter part of the last Century. The Doctor teils us how the Cornish gentry then dined at noon, and had their tea-parties and Pope Joan at three in the afternoon—how carpets were unknown in the houses, even of the affluent—how a private carriage was a rarity seldom or never seen in the streetS'—how the " Sherbourne Mercury" was of the same dimensions as a shcet of music; and how gentlefolks had not yet learnt to eat with silver forks. Now, if for Penzance (the town almost at our Land's End) we Substitute Coblenz (the capital of the Rhenish provinces, the site of a royal "residenz" and the great stronghold of Prussia), the account will hold good to this day, and the THEIR PEESENT CONDITJON. ""■${. .:.:.:- reader will have a vivid notion of the present condition of thc Rhenish folk as contrasted with that of our own country- men. Nor is this comparison made from any national in- vidiousness on our part; for if we add, that in many places in Prussia, wolves, that were exterminated from England six hundred years ago, are still allowed to infest the forests; and witches, that we desisted from burning in the year 1716, were persecuted in Northern Prussia (where, Mr. Cohden says, all are educated) only so recently as the year 1830, it will be seen that in placing the Rhenish people at only one hundred years behind our own, we incline to the liberal rather than the strict view of the case. Well, in Coblenz, the only private carriage that appears in the streets is the Princess's shandredan, hack-looking brougham,-—a " turn-out" about equal in style to one of our " flies." The floors of even many of the Grafts' sitting- rooms are still uncarpeted, excepthig a narrow strip stretched before the sofa, such as we in England place bcside our servants' beds. The öCoblcnjtr SSettttng measures exactly 17 inches by 11, and consists of four pages of such print and paper as our illustrious Catnach used to devote to the "last dying speeches" and "confessions" of the Newgate criminals, and contains neither leading articles nor criticism, nor indeed any further token of intellect on the part of the editor, than if it were a piece of "potichomania"—a pure work of scissors and paste. The usual hour for tea-parties, or rather " coffee-drinking," is four in the afternoon, when scandal is propagated to an alarming extent. The mails are built after the style of our old-fashioned hackuey-coaches, and persist, even in these days of rapid locomotion, in travelling at their slow prototype's pace. Oxen are still used in the plouglis and wagons-—the same as they were in the time of the Romans, who first taught the people the arts of civilised life. B 2 DOMESTIC MÄNNERS OF THE riUTSSUNS. The houses are unsupplied with water,—a tliing that we have learnt to consider almost as necessary as air to a dwelling for the due purificatioii of its Chambers and inhabitants. Sewerage is comparatively unknown (though there is a fall of nearly 20 feet to the Rhine), so that the streets, under the very nose of tho palace, are offensive, even to nausea, in every educated nostril. The gutters of the Schloss Strasse (the Coblenz Regent Street) are generally like whitewash with soap-suds, and as redolent of sulphuretted hydrogen as imported eggs. The gates of tho town are locked at ten, at which hour the curfew-bell still rings to remind the Coblenzers that it is time for all eood Citizens to be between the beds—we cannot say sheets, such luxuries being still unknown to the refined Preussen.* Fire-brigades, and fire-mains, and fire-escapes are ap- pliances for the preservation of property and lifo that the simple Germans have yet to become acquainted with; for, in the capital of Rhenish Prussia. the less civilised and efficient plan is adopted of keeping an individual perched up in one of the steeples the night through, and compelling him to blow a huge cowherd's hörn at every hour, to convince the inhabi- * During our stay at Cologne, we set out one fine summer's evening to make the tour of the suburbs, with the view of inspecting the fortifications that enelose the town. Descending from the droschke (hackney carriage) at Bayenthurm, in Order to make a purchase at one of the shops inside the walls, we found, on returning from the tobacconist's, that the gates had been closed in the interval, and we were compelled to make a circuit of some two miles, in order to regain the vehicle. As we neared the spot, we heard the coachman shouting wildly in all directions ; for, owing to the long time we had been gone upon our errand, the man had got to fancy that we, in the dusk, had stumbled into the river. Moreover, on resuming our journey outside the walls, we were stopped no less than tliree times by sentries and police, who were good enough to inform us that we had no business out at that late hour. At Mayenee the gates close punctually at ten, and the guide-books say, " those who wish to enter the town after that time (unless when arriying by diligence or post), should furnish themselves with the permission of the commandant! " iitsp- jll« ■;: dl km r:i'' »** THEIK PK1M1TITE HABlTf. 5 tants that he is still wide awake. So utterly innoccnt, too, are the people of all sanitary laws and regulations, that Ventilation is unknown, even where every house reeks with its festering cesspools and waterless closets on every landing, and where the entire windows are opened only at the time of death, in order, as the childish superstition runs, " to let the spirit fly out." * Indeed the habits of the Rheinländer are of such an in- tensely primitive character, that a long sojourn in the Rhenish capital is like living centuries back in the past, and which, though very interesting to gentlemen of antiquarian predilec- tions, is exceedingly uncomfortable to any one whose head hapjjens to be cumbered witli notions of progress, liberty, and refinement. Here it is that our eyes are still cheered with the sight of a pair of snuffers, for even "composites" have not yet made their way into the houses of the Teutonic middle classes; here it is that the heads of even the most enlightened fami- lies still persist in swathing their poor little babies after the fashion of Indian papooses. Here it is, too, that we find dames still engaged in the Arcadian accomplishment of spinning; for, to the great majority of the Deutschers, Arkwright's invention of the "Jenny" still remains a blank, though the patent dates nearly a Century back. Again, upon this nation of Daphnes and Chloes, John Lee's exquisite machinery of the stocking- frame has been comparatively wasted, for the women still knit the hose and guernseys, even as they spin the tlireads for the blankets, sheets, and under-clothing of their families. To such an extent, too, does this prevail, that as the wife * The usual means of looking out of window at Coblenz consists in thrusting the Shoulders through one of the panes, which is made to turn upon a hinge ; so that at the time of any procession appearing in the streets, you will see a numbcr of heads protruded through the sashes, and reminding one of the picture of the " Smuggler on the Look-out," in which the contrabandist is made to appear as if stretehing Ins neck out of the frame. 6 DOMESTIC MANNEIIS OF TUE KlUSSIAN?. of Tarquin was an excellent Spinner, and Augustus Caesar usually wore no garments tut such as were spnn by bis wife, or sister, or daughter (31 b.c.); so we should not wonder, if wo could come at the truth of the matter, tliat thc King of Prussia, to this day, has his flannel - waist- coats fabricated by the fair fingers of the Royal Family (A.D. 1853).* Further, in this the modern Arcadia, the pseu- dodox yet lingers, cvon among the people of the middle classes, that vermin in the heads of children are healthy. And as Pelasgus, the shepherd hing, was honoured as a god for teaching his artless subjects to feed on acorns, as being more nutritious than horbs, even so the descendants of Arminras — stränge that such analogies should hold in Europe to the present day!—-not only love to eat all kinds of green meat as salads, and to drink infusions of nettle, and sage, and Woodruff, and strawberry leaves, as tea, but they have been recently enlightened by some revered Teutonic patriarch as to the fact that a decoction of burnt acorns is more strength- ening and better flavoured than coffee: so that this wash is positively drunk by them three and four times a-day, the people vowing the while to the poor "uneducated Engländers" that it is far preferable to the most delicious Mocha ever brewed at the " Rotonde." But, lest the reader should mistake our literal truths for fanciful pleasantries, we will descend to particulars, and paint a more accurate, though perhaps less glowing, picture of the manners of the Rhenish folk than that perpetrated by Mr. Cobden, when he assured the Parliament that every German baker could serve his customers with (black) bread in Latin as well as Deutsche. * At Rheinstein, in the toy " robber-castle " of Princc Frederick of Prussia, may be seen the Princess's spinning-wheel— as well as the less graceful Ornaments of his Royal Highness's and the King's spitloons ! .:.;: THE GEBMAN DWELLINGS. HOUSEHOLD ARRANGEMENTS. §1- Lobginös, Stotes, Beds, and Bed-Chambebs. in Hl itila ■ We will begin, in due order, with the German dwellings — we cannot say liouses, as the people have a congenial love of " flats." A Teutonic home is a floor, or even half a one, for the King himself at Coblenz does not aspire to the English grandeur of an entire residence, but shares it, with true patriarchal humility, among the members of his family; his Majesty occupying, we believe, the first floor of the Schloss; the Crown Prince the ground ditto ; while the young Princess, we suppose, is to be found " au second " (ring the middle bell twice). Moreover, as the "establishment" of a general officer seldom consists of more than one maid-of-all-work, the reader will readily understand how even an entire suite of apartments may be too spacious for so extensive a retinue. The best floors in the best part of Coblenz usually let at the rate of 251. a-year, or 21. a-month, and for this sum six moderate-sized rooms and a kitchen are obtainable. Good fur- nished apartments average about twice the amount; and the rent of the fnrniture, if hired, as it often is by the Engländers, of Hoffmann in the Clemenz Platz (a very fair-dealing man, by the way), may be estimated at about as much as the house-rent itself, Such English people as cannot forego the comfort of a ■ 8 DOMESTIC MANNERS OV THE PlrtJSSIANS. carpet must expect to pay higher for the rarity; and those who prefer a bedstead somewhat bigger than a plate-chest must makc up their minds to find the total inflamed by their objection to sleep in a tool-box. For the sum we have named, Hoffmann supplies all but crockery and cooking Utensils, finding linen, and washing the same (though our compatriots must be prepared for Rhenish astonishment if they think it neeessary to have their bed-linen changed oftener than once a-month), and providing plate — real " Germern ; " for of course, in the land of nickel, we are sure to be supplied with the true " white copper," rather than silver forks. At the above-mentioned terms, however, an English family may be tolerably lodged in the Rhenish capital; and they will find on entering their make-shift home that, in addi- tion to their " flat," they are the temporary proprietors of a cellar on the basement and a servants' room in the attics, and are entitled to a share in a " bleaching-ground," or grass-plot, about the size of the top of a billiard-table, at the back of the premises. They will then begin to understand, for the first time in their lives, the misery of stairs held on the communistic principle, and the barbarous inconvenience of living in a house as destitute of cisterns as the deserts of Arabia ; as well as the nasal annoyance of having to keep the dust and ashes and refuse of the place in a barrel by them, tili the " schmuz- karren " comes round for the hoard the next morning. Moreover, if the Engländer go into Prussian society, he will have an opportunity of comparing the furniture of his own rooms with that even of the Graffs in the town; and though the comforts of his hired residence may be scanty, compared with what he has been aecustomed to at home, they will appear almost luxurious in his eyes when he comes to con- trast them with those of the Counts round about him: for he will find even the drawing-rooms of the Prussian nobles tricked THEIK HOUSEHOLD FUENITUKE. 9 out with home-made trumpery of every description, rather than the handsome solid furniture of an English mansion. Tho bell-pulls will be composed of strings of glass beads; the sofa- cusliions and footstools of Berlin -wool manufacture, with hideous pictures in carpet-like mosaic work; the hand- screens of painted velvet; whilst the Ornaments on the side- tables will be bead pens, and witches with huge red petticoats for pen-wipers, and hair bouquets, and bunches of wax-fiowers; then the works of art about the walls will be crayon heads done at school; and there will be crochet fiower-mats on the table, and baskets in rice-work, and knick-knacks formed out of coffee-berries, and a profusion of anti-macassars, and netted curtains and window-blinds, and indeed everything to convince the visitor that the room has been furnished by the handiwork of the ladies of the house rather than the upholsterer. If such, however, be the style of the nobleman's show- room, what must be the character of the apartments in which the lordly family usually dwell? An open door, on the occasion of one of our visits, revealed to us the mystery; and we can but assure the reader that a Dutch labourer's cottage— that of a man earning but his six guilders a-week—was con- siderably more comfortable, and had more of the appliances of civilisation about it, than the sitting-room we beheld; while the lodging of many a journeyman tailor, in regulär work at the West End of London, is a little paradise of comfort and clean- liness in comparison with the parlour of a Rhenish Count. But the principal peculiarities of a Preussisclie loohnung are the beds and the stoves. The bedsteads are, without exagge- ration, scarcely bigger than our babies' cots, and are made in the same fashion as the miniature "testers" in which we place children that are just out of thcir babyhood; with the excep- tion that the German " bettstelle" has no protection at the sides 10 DOMESTIC MANNEBS OF THE PBUSSIANS. to keep the "child of larger growth" f'rom rolling on to the floor. The Prussian Standard of lieiglit for soldiers of the line de- scends as low as 5 feet 2 inches,* so that it will be readily under- stood that a box, which is little bigger than an orange-ehest, may still afford plenty of room for a Rhineländer to stretch his legs in; though wlien an unlucky Englishman, who happens to stand 5 feet 10 out of his Wellingtons, comes to have his limbs stowed away in a wooden trough of more limited dimen- sions than a berth in a Dover steamer, it can be readily imagined that he must suffer the same physical inconvenience throughout the night as Gulliver must have experienced whilst taking a bed in Lilliput. Further, bolsters are unknown in Rhineland; and as a Substitute for a head-cushion, the sleeper is provided with half a mattrass, made in the form of a slice of Cheshire cheeso: so that, being condemned to sleep on an inclined plane, he keeps sliding, as he dozes, down towards the end of the bed, and thus his soles are driven hard against the footboard; whilst in his drowsy struggles to straighten himself his cranium is pushed with eqnal force against the opposite extremity of the bed-press. The consequenee is, that on waking in the morning the crown of the head feels positively as numb with the pressure as a Covent Garden market-woman's must after a hard day's porterage; while the legs are as stiff at the joints as a London cab-horse's. Nor is this all. The Germans being innocent of the com- forts of under-blankets, even in the best-regulated families, expect the stranger to lie upon a horse-hair mattrass that has merely a sheet over it to protect the skin from the tick; so * A German maid-serrant whora we brought with us to England, on passing the Knightsbridge barracks, and seeing one of the Blues in his undress-jacket outside the gate, exclaimed, "Lieber Gott.' Er ist ein grosser Mann!" (" Good God ! there is a big man!") adding immediately afterwards, " Why, our soldiers are not as long as one of his legs ! " GE11MAN BEDS. II vkk Mi Bi;i!ä ;:..;:■■ 0* ii'-- 0 that, owing to tlie Sharp points of the protruding horse-hair, you enjoy your night's rest,—if you tlo not Lappen to belong to one of the pachydermatous class of animals,—about as much as you would if you were sleeping on a scrubbing-brush; and, before morning, you become so irritated with the con- tinual chafing, that the bed on which you are lying seems to your drowsy imagination to be literally stuffed with ladies' hair-pins. Still the catalogue of miseries is not ended—for a German bed is one of the most exquisite instruments of torture—almost as barbarous and trying to the nerves, indeed, as the sewing up of criminals in hides and leaving them to be pressed to death by the contraction of the skin in the rays of the sun. Tlie bed-clothes are no wider than jack-towels, and therefore in- capable of being tucked in under the edges of the mere ribbon of mattrass on which you have to pass the night; so that with every turn of your body you are left as lightly clad as an African prince—an airiness of costume which, in a country where the thermometer ranges from 90° in the shade to several degrees below zero, is not particularly recomraended for rheumatism. The Prussians in winter roll themselves up in the " bettdecke" as tight as a grub in its cocoon; but Engländers who have never known the necessity to use their bedclothes as an Indian does Ins blanket, suffer severely in resorting to so primitive a mode of covering themselves by night. Nor should it be imasined that even sheets and blankets are inventions that have yet made their way into every German dwelling. As we said before, the majority of Deutschers are as ignorant of such things as a Carib is of a tooth- brush, for it is still a national custom to sleep between the beds throughout Rhineland—the under-bed being often only a sack stuffed with straw, and the upper one always a gigantic HnMAh ■HM nBS 12 DOMESTIC MANNEES OE HIE TBUSSIANS. pillow-case filled (for the sake of lightness as well as warmth) with feathers. In the houses of the well-to-do, the underside of the upper bed has sometimes a Square of white linen tacked to it, and this is changed at intervals that are longer or shorter than a month, according to the habits and refine- ment of the family. In remote villages, however, you find, even at the best inns, that the before-mentioned rüde attempt at a white sheet has not yet reached the heart of Germany, and that you are expected to turn in (after Heaven knows whom) between beds that are covered with chintz of so dark a colour that you can teil at a glance the stuff has been chosen with the view of " not showing the dirt," At one of the principal towns in the Westerwald we ourselves were conducted to a bedstead furnished with these sanie black sheets, and the family of the innkeeper thought us proud out of all reason on our shuddering at the prospect of having to bury our body in so filthy-looking a resting-place, and considered us insanely fastidious when we persisted on having a couple of clean table-cloths as Substitutes for bed-linen. Then this same feather-bed positively cooks you like a potato by steam; and when you grow restless in the vapour- bath produced by the sudorific tendency of the eider-down, the huge puffy squab is sure to roll on to the fioor and leave you to shiver and dream that you have joined the Arctic expedition, and that Albert Smith is desirous of showing you at Egyptian Hall as a gentleman who has been dug out of the ice in a State of complete preservation. But if the beds punish you by night, the Prnssian stoves do the like by day. Every one is familiär with the horrors of a wiriter in the Crimea, but we do verily believe we would rather have dwelt in the camp outside Sebastopol, and have suffered all the agony of Russian frost, than have lived as we INJÜRIOUS EFFECTS OF THEIE STOTES. 13 did, from December to April, in a room hcatcd like a hot-house and as stifling as a melon-frame—a circumstance which has rcndered us so exotically alive to the slightest change of temperature, that we fancy we shall have either to be done up in matting every winter for the future, or eise to be wheeled, like the orange -trees of Paris, into some mild oven immediately November sets in. It is considered by those who have never passed the brnmal quarter in Rhineland, that it was a prodigious feat of M. Chabert, " the fire-king," to sit in an oven while a beef- steak was being fried; but this is the delightful verdure of inexperience. We, however, have unluckily learnt to look upon such an achievement as in no way worthy of the devotion of your true fire-worshipper; and we have serious thoughts, after what we have undergone, of exhibiting ourselves (according to the approved fashion of modern literary aspirants) as a human Salamander, and remaining quietly seated on the hob as we lecture through the boiling of a plum-pudding, or (what is even a longer Operation) while a German Joint of meat is being cooked. Verily, we have already passed four months of our lives in rooms with the Windows hermetically sealed, and heated to a temperature that has made the pomatum on the German ladies' hair trickle down their cheeks positively as if their heads were being basted; and in which, if we had only thought of keeping eggs, we might have hatched a whole farm- yard, as well as, if not better than, by a Cantelo's incubator. Physiologists teil us, that when the human body is thoroughly dried, but 25 pounds of solid matter remain of all that made up brain, heart, arteries, muscles, blood, and bonos of the once reasoning animal; and so completely was the desiccating process being carried out by the German stoves upon ourselves, that we really feit day by day we were fast approaching the 14 nOMESTIC MANNERS OF TUE PRUSSIANS. moistureless Standard. Ncver before, indeed, were we so con- scious of being made of dust; for we almost began to fear that a good puff of wind would dissipate us in a eloud, likc the powdery stuff in " tlie devil's snuff-box," and that our frame at the next gale would assume the airy expansiveness of smoke — after the fashion of that of the Genii of the bottle in the "Arabian Nights." Moreover, the same work of desiccation goes on among the fnrniture as in one's own body. To stand the baking of a German stove, it is necessary that the mahogany of the German chairs and tables be more than duly seasoned, or assuredly they will split, like bad gloves, immediately we come to use them. Often, therefore, while sitting quietly in our domestic oven, we were startled with a series of explosions like small cannon, arising first from the sudden warping of the bureau, next from the violent cracking of the eard-tables, and then from the forcible parting of the planks at the back of the chiffonnier. But even the best-seasoned timber becomes, after a time, so thoroughly parched, that the material grows almost like touchwood; and thus the backs of the sofas are continually yielding to the pressure, and legs of chairs giving way under the sitter. At the table dliöte at Cologne we saw the latter calamity befall a respectable British publisher; in the ball- room at Bertrieh we beheld the wife of the Governor thrown from her chair suddenly on to the floor; and we ourselves have taken off as many legs as an army surgeon. Moreover, the very bed has sunk under our weight twice in one winter; so that we have been abruptly roused from our slumbers with a sense of being precipitated headlong through the trap-door of a theatre. Then, the overpowering metallic or earthen stench of the stoves themselves is hateful to every civilised nostril; for if the retort, wliich in Germany does duty for a fire-place, TIIEIE FENDEES AND FIBE-IEONS. 15 häppen to be made of earthenware, your sitting-room smclls like a brickfield of burning clay; and if it be made of iron, the apartment is filled witli tlie same grateful odour as is evolved from the tire of a railway wheel witli the drag upon it. The so-called porcelain stoves aro for wood, while the metal ones are for such coals as are used at our blacksmiths'.* Tlie latter are invariably kept in an open iron box about the size of a small portmanteau, and herein the coal-powder is mixed with water; so that the resulting slushy black mess forms about as pleasing a sight in a sitting-room as an eye witli any sense of reflnement can rest upon. Of hearth there is not the least trace; neither are fenders known in the land ; nor is it possible to catch sight of even so much as a twinkle of the fire. Fire-irons certainly are not wanting, but these are of such droll shapes and dimensions that we wonder why they do not form part of the United Service Museum, where all kinds of barbarous curiosities are collected. If you burn wood, the tongs you are fur- nished with are but little bigger than those witli which we serve asparagus; the shovel is more like a French salt-spoon than an article designed for ladling up Walls-End; whilst the mere sight of the poker would appal an English housewife. In shape, the last-named instrument is exactly like the Indian boomerang, being so forrned to "roke" at the burning coals from under the grating at the bottom of the stove. Nor must simple-minded English ladies imagine that the German housewives take the same pride as themselves in having their fire-places and fire-irons beautifully polished, for the Rhenish pokers, shovels, and ton£ far from being * The price of coals, or rather coal-powder, is 12*. the small cartload (equal to about half a ton in our measure). Wood for the stoves costs 10 thalers (30*.) the " klafter" (a cart-load), and about 1^ thalers (4s. Cid.) extra for sawing and Splitting it into usable pieces. 16 DOMESTIC MANNEBS OF THE FBUSSIANS. anything liko bright, are usually of the foxy complexion peculiar to the irons that stand in the water beside a smitli's forge; whilst the stoves, together with the iron tubing that serves for chimney, are generally as dingy-looking as the tops of old Wellington boots. The heating apparatus which Stands in the room that wo are now writing in is about as elegant in design as would bc three mignonette-boxes supported one above another upon flower-pots. This is all in cast-iron of the rudest possible workmanship, and from the back of it there rises about a yard and a half of chimney like a gas-pipe. Such is the fireside of an Englishman in Rhineland! Still the most pernicious effects of these domestic kilns remain to be told. Open chimneys (f'Kammer ") are neces- sarily precluded in Deutschland by the use of chemical furnaces for grates; and the Prussians, believing that the Kamin serves only to carry off the smoke from the fire, have substituted a slip of iron-tubing in its stead. But in " uneducated England"— to adopt a favourite German phrase — almost every labourer's wife knows that a chimney is necessary for the due Ventilation of either sitting or sleeping-rooms, whilst any one in the hast acquainted with sanitary phenomena is well aware, that for the preservation of life and health, it is as recpiisite there should be some apparatus in every Chamber for conducting away the products of combustion in the body, as for getting rid of the fumes of burning carbon in the stove,— the breath and transpiration of the skin being merely transparent smoke, and as poisonous to inhale even as the "choke-damp" of our coal-mines, with which, indeed, it is chemically identical. The " educated" Prussians, on the other hand, are either ignorant of simple facts like these, that are taught daily at our Mechanics' Institutes, or eise they are so fond of living amid THEIR COUNTENANCES. 17 the foul heated atmosplierc of their unventilated apartments, that by long use they are able to remain immurcd without fresh air, like toads in rocks, and still to exhibit signs of life upon Coming into the external world. So averse, too, are they to quit their close, reeking rooms, and to venture into the cool, invigorating atmosphere without, that on arriving at a Prus- sian turnpike, it is most probable that the half-torpid toll- keeper appears at the window with his pipo, as big as a bas- soon, dangling from his lips, and thrusts out a long pole with a bag at the end of it, like an extended butterfly-catcher, for you to deposit the " Chaussde-geld " in. How the Prussians manage to live in apartments that are almost as air-tight as the receiver of an air-pump—in which, every schoolboy knows, the lowest animals will die—is a physiological mystery beyond Liebig himself to explain. But that their blood, owing to the custom of dwelling in hermeti- cally-sealed Chambers, is not duly aerated or arterialised is painted in almost every Deutscher's face in the ugliest possible colours. Scarcely aman or woman will you see without a com- plexion as greasy and yellow-brown as if it had been smeared with tobacco oil; and on the forehead or cheeks of many a young lady you will observe spots or bile-stains, that seem positively like patches of " poor man's plaster" on the skin. Assuredly we have not met with one really healthy-looking individual during our stay in Coblenz, and the town swarms with dwarves and deformed people of all shapes and sizes, to such an extent that human monstrosities are almost as common in the Rhenish capital as well-shapen and healthy-cheeked women and men with us; while goitres (called expressively in German, "Kropfs;" Angl. crops) abound on all sides — the market-women having enormous wens at their throats, as big as the air-sack to a bagpipe; and there are whole islands VOL. II. c u DOMESTIC MANNEUS OF THE I'RUSSIANS. and villages füll of drivelling cretins close in tlie neighbour- hood. That such things should come of vitiated air may, perhaps, startle those who know not that unless oxygenated hlood be sent to every part of the human body, it is impossible, not only for the functions of nutrition to proceed, but even for a nerve to feel or the brain itself to think, and that no Rheinländer can have a due quantity of such aerated blood in bis arteries the stifling character of the German Chambers is sufficient to demonstrate. But to make this part of the subject clearer to the reader, we will play the prosy professor for a while, and deliver as brief a lecture as possible concerning the requirements of human nature with regard to the matter of air. The atmo- sphere, says the learned author of " Physiology taught in Ten Minutes," in its ordinary State, contains only one-thousandth part of carbonic acid—the gas evolved from burning charcoal, which is known to be one of the most deadly products in nature. But though the inhalation of this gas, when mixed with the atmosphere in such a proportion, is attended with no noxious effect, it acts as a narcotic poison immediately the ratio is slightly increased; so that, when it forms only one part in a hundred of the volume of air round about us, the atmospheric fluid becomes poisonously injurious to life. Now this same carbonic acid is e.chaled by every human being in return for the oxygen which is ißhaled by bim, so that during respiration in closed Chambers a double vitiating process goes on in the air. Not only is a given amount of the oxygen, which is neces- sary for maintaining existence, withdrawn from the atmosphere of the room at every iwspiration, but very nearly an equal bulk of carbonic acid, which is unfit for continuing life, is poured into it at each respiration. A full-grown individual inhales TIIEIK BEDEOOMS. 19 about 27 cubic feet (46,656 cubic inches) of " vital air " in tlic course of 24 hours, and exhales, in lieu of tliis, about 24 cubic feet of " mepbitic gas " in the same time. To obtain the daily cubic yard of oxygen, a person must be supplied with about 5 cubic yards of fresli air per diem (for tbis is the proportion in which the vital gas exists in the atmosphere), and evon this quantity should be so continually changed throughout the day, that the carbonic acid evolved from the lungs may never reach the noxious ratio of 1 per cent of the air in which we live. Now let us apply these facts, that have become almost plati- tudes in our own country, as tests of the sanitary condition of even the middle-class Rhenish sitting and sleeping-rooms. The bedroom in which we and our wife have to sleep mea- sures exactly 14 feet Square and 8 feet high, so that it contains not quite 1600 cubic feet of air. To this there is no inlet for any fresh supply, nor outlet for the products of respiration, except through the Windows or door — tbe chimney to the stove consisting of a yard or so of narrow iron-piping tbrust into a hole in the wall, and the 4-inch door to the cast-iron fur- nace being intended to be kept closed. Now the 1600 cubic feet of air locked up within the walls of our Chamber contain, in an ordinary State, rather more than 1J cubic foot of carbonic acid ; but when, as we have said, the proportion of the latter gas rises to 16 cubic feet (1 per cent) the atmosphere becomes poisonous. Let us see, then, in what time this would take place. A grown person evolves, say, 1 cubic foot of mephitic gas from the lungs every hour, so that two persons would exhale 14 J cubic feet in little better than 7 5 hours ; and this, with the normal quantity of lj cubic foot, would raise the amount of carbonic acid to the poisonous proportion. Conse- quently, in a night of rather more than 6 hours' duration, c 2 20 DOMESTIC MANNERS OF THE TEÜSSIANS. the atmosphere of our " Schlaf-zimmer" would have reached malaria-pitch. The bedchamber of our two cliildren measures 17 x 12 x 8, and contains, thereforo, rather better than 1600 cubic feet of air; but here there is not even a stove, nor any perforation whatever in the walls, so that if their lungs exhaled the same amount of poison as is evolved by a full-grown person, they would be stifled in their beds long before their 10 hours' sleep was ended. Our servant's bedroom measures 9x7x8, so that it has a capacity of but 504 cubic feet; consequently, if the door and window of this apartment were tightly closed throughout the night, the girl would be suffocated in not quite 4 j hours' time. Muddle-headed Germans will, of course, sneer sceptically, in the profundity of their scientific ignorance, at such truths as these, though they themselves know that the majority of their people are obliged to sleep with their Windows open; and we ourselves have lived to see our young children rise from their beds, when the nights have been too cold to admit of un- closed casements, with almost ulcerated eyelids, their bodies unrefreshed by their rest, and their cheeks pallid with .the noi- some vapours they had inhaled throughout the night. Even in our sitting-room it is impossible to allow a German to remain for upwards of an hour without throwing open the Windows to purify the air. In all weathers — cold or wet—even though an easterly wind or damp fog prevail—the casements must be repeatedly set a-jar throughout the day, while the nights must be passed with gaping " fenstern," reckless of rheumatism or catarrhs ; for it is impossible to sleep with open doors instead, owing to the stench that steams up, like a nauseous miasma, from the waterless "Abtritte" on every landing of the staircase, the festering cesspools in the yard, and the barreis of rotting dust and garbage kept on every fioor. ttUBjrtlj, OPPENHEIM. 21 l* pteplittör |U].cras| Stents. OPPENHEIM. Oppenheim is one of the prettiest spots in the world— upon paper. The pieturesque, however, is almost always at variance with the comfortable, and the associations in connexion with it are frequently offensive to every other sense but the one it appeals to. The artistic taste thinks only of the play of line, the balance of light and shade, and the harmony of colour; for, abstractedly considered, the painter is a mere eye,— a being in whom every other sense is merged in that of vision. And as the geologist, travelling through a country, sees only " secondary and tertiary formations," and " eocene," " miocenc," or " pliocene deposits," so the artist on a tour beholds nothing but pictures, and though he have nose, ears, Imagination, &c, like other folk, discovers, and indeed extracts, beauty from things that are generally found to be repulsive or unpleasant in real life. What a hateful object, for instance, is the living Italian beggar! How detestable is the hypocritical whine of Ins mumbled Latin prayers !—how fawning and slavish the smile with which he seeks to wheedle you into charity! Was there ever so loathsome a mass of filth and sores ? As he wriggles Ins body in Ins tatters, your own flesh positively creeps at the thought of the creatures infesting him. And yet, under the magic pencil of a Murillo, what an exquisite feast of visual beauty is this same revolting spectaclo transformed into ! for, now that the eye alone is appealed to, what chromatic loveliness is revealed in the rags that offended you before, and what 22 DOMESTIC MANNEBS OF TUE MiUSSIANS. charm of tint exliibited in tlie very dirt that you sickened at in tlie original! So uttcrly different is the beggar in life and the beggar on canvas. It is the same with Oppenheim on paper here, and Oppenheim on tlie banks of the Rhine. As a picture, it seems the very spot that the " hlazeed " Londoner would select to end Ins days in. The little village, nestled at the foot of the old half-ruined Gothic church that Stands on the hill-top, and the broad Rhenish prairie stretching far away below, with the silver band of the river sparkling in the light as it comes circling from out the distance, and the whole scene rimmed in, as it were, by the hazy hüls of the Oden Wald, — all conspire to make the view as palatable to the eye as it is soothing to the imagination. But Oppenheim in reality is something rnore than a view, and it is the extra qualities,.— qualities which the artist cannot possibly render,—that make the place far from agreeable to those who have noses as well as eyes to gratify, and whose souls are not quite insensible to human misery and squalor. The town is built on a hill, and consists principally of one long street winding up the steep slope. The habitations on either side this street are mere hovels, of the true Continental stamp, and utterly wanting in all that neatness and comfort which distinguish our own village-homes. Shops there are none, nor any manufactures appertaining to the place; neither is there any traffic to give life to the thoroughfares. The street itself is covered with an eruption, as it were, of pebbles, that are as trying to the feet as would be a paving of petrified potatoes. Drainage, or rather sewerage, is as unknown as rose-water in the town; so that every hut and gutter smells as " high " as a guano-ship: and as for the civic luxuriös of OPPENHEIM. 23 " lighting " or " watering," one miglit as well look for them in Polynesia as here. Indeed you see, in Oppenheim, all the degraded forms of German life, and can almost count the centuries that the Rhenish people are behind our own in the various appliances of social welfare. It is stränge that the sites of the eminent old churches were almost invariably a nidus for every kind of vice, infamy, and misery. This arose from the fact, that the cathedral in olden times had generally a " spittal" for the relief of the indigent, and a sanetuary for the protection of the criminal, in connexion with it; so that such spots became the centres around which the lazy, the diseased, the depraved, and the ruffian, were all huddled together in one filthy and corrupt crowd. Those who remember our own Almonry at Westminster will need no de- scription of such places; whilst those who have read of the dense army of beggars and priests that once preyed upon the " holy city " of Cologne, or have seen the swarms of lazzaroni congregated about St. Peter's at Rome, will not require any further proof of the fact. Such as have never visited Oppenheim, have merely to imagine the Mint in the borough of Southwark to be trans- planted to the banks of the Rinne, and the hovels of Kent Street, &c, to be rendered even less fit for human habitation,' in order to have a vivid image of the town in question. The Church of St. Catherine at Oppenheim was once one of the proudest edifices in all Germany, and the villagc itself was an ancient city of the Empire,* having formed part of the associated Rhenish towns since the thirteenth Century. Its ancient prosperity was due to the patronage of the Emperors of the Middle Ages, especially that of Henry IV. In 1689, * Indeed, it dates as far back as the Romans, by whom it was called Bon- conica, being represented in the Roman maps under that name. —— 24 D0MEST1C MANNEES OF TUE PEUSSIANS. liowever, it was entirely destroyecl by tlie French, one house only having beert left standing. The western part of the church was begun in 1262, by Richard of Cornwall, emperor of Germany, and finished in 1317 ; but it was reduced to ruins by the French, in the seven- teenth Century. The eastern part was built in 1439, and escaped the general destruction. To this day, however, the edifice forms, in the words of the guide-books, " one of the finest monuments of German architecture," being, we are told, "a pure example of the Gothic style, and displaying the utmost richness of decoration consistent with elegance and propriety." Assuredly the contemplation of this fine structure is suf- ficient to repay the traveller for the inconvenience of a sojourn at the town. It is now half in ruins, and half restored to its original grandeur; and a most interesting object, too, seeming to be formed, as it were, of three distinct edifices joined in a line to one another,— a roofless and windowless shell of a chapel at ono end; a small reculver-like church, with twin Square towers, in the middle; and a tiny cathedral, with a transept, and tall, elongated dorne, at the other extremity. We first saw this church at early morning, in Company with a celebrated Belgian architect, and certainly the sight of the cold blue-grey of the dawn, peeping in beautiful patches through the meshes of the lace-like tracery that still remains intact at the ruined western chancel,— together with the fine twilight gloom that hung about the several pinnacles, and buttresses, and towers, gave it a solemnity and an interest (for there is always something touching in a ruin) that enchanted the pair of us. The Belgian architect was travelling in search of the "Gothic," and when he beheld the wondi-ous " rosaces" (rose traceries) to some of the windows of the outer nave of the OPPENHEIM. 25 church — the fine trefoil Ornaments of others, and the exqui- sitely-various devices in all — as well as the delicate, fretted pinnacles and buttresses, and the elegant " arcade " that (like a light and graceful lattice of stone) trellises the wall above the long lancet-window of the transept gable—it was almost as pleasant to witness our friend's enthusiasm as it was to contem- plate the Ornaments and proportions of the edifice itself. Then, as the daylight grew and grew in brightness, it was really like magic to watch the beautiful little bits of "filagree" work, that fretted every corner and edge of the building, start into sight, tili the whole structnre seemed to be carved over, and the stone wrought as finely and elaborately as if it had been so much ivory; whilst the colours of the stained glass lent the richest and most brilliant positive tints to warm and vivify the solemn neutral-grey hue of the old walls them- selves. Round about the church were the crumbling remains of an old cloister; and cresting a vineyard-hill at the back, that was grooved over with lines of vine-Stocks, was all that now exists of the ancient imperial Castle of Land- skron,-—a mere shell of walls, that seemed positively as rotten and discoloured as old cheese, whilst the Windows had crumbled away into holes that looked like embrasures for cannon. As we returned to the town, the walk along the mere ledge of the rock on which the church is built was a thing not to be forgotten; for there we saw the rieh yellow vineyards slanting above and below us, and the tiny city lying far under our feet, half veiled by the white cloud of its morning fires; while the liquid-looking orb of the newly-risen sun itself stood trembling as it seemed to rest on the summit of the " Meli- bocus" mountain, over by the dark chain of the Oden-Wald hüls, and pouring a flood of yellow lustre over the vast plains, Hl -■» 26 DOMESTIC MANNERS OF THE TRUSSIANS. tili they appeared to glitter again with all the rieh green hues of the beetle's back—the Rhine itself shining where the beams feil füll upon it like a sheet of crumpled golden foil. §2. Modes of Cleaning, and Habits of Cleanliness and Decency. " Cleanliness," saya Dr. Viron, the quondam Editor of the Constitutionnel, in his Memoires d\n Bourgeois, " was imported from England into France at the beginning of the present Century." From our own observations we should say, that no German voyagcr has yet introduced the British luxury into Rhineland. A Rhenish professor, whilst discoursing to us of the differ- ence between the towns and the villages in his own land, as- sured us, that when he lived in the country he only washed himself once a-week, and was not then dirty. " But in Cob- lenz," said he, " my hands and face I am obliged to clean once every day." A better illustration, however, of the ideas populär among Prussians concerning the proprieties of the toilet is aiforded by the following aneedote:—Two German Professors were once speculating concerning some anomalies in the Physiologie du Goüt. " How is it," inquired one of the " Philosophs" "that we eat hares and not foxes ?" " Oh! it is merely habit," answered the other; " you might as well ask the reason why we wash our hands and not our feet!" After this it is, of course, idle to teil the reader that such PEUSSIAN CLEANLINESS. 27 things as baths and wash-houses for the poorer classes are un- known in tlie Ilhenish capital; though it still may throw some light upon the subject if we say, that no hotel-keeper on the Rhine thinks it necessary to supply the traveller with soap in addition to water in his hedroora — that foot-baths are compa- rativcly unknown ■—■ that a gentleman is considered as a wild Engländer who thinks of sponging himself with cold water every morning throughout the year — and that when we our- selves commenced housekeeping, we actually mistook and bought as pie-dishes what we afterwards discovered the Prus- sians used for washhand-basins, and that of these it was impos- sible to obtain any sufficiently large to make a tart for a small family. Need we add, that of such luxuries as water-cans, toilet-pails, and sponging-baths, the Germans, as well as the French, have no more knowledge than swine of fiesh-brushes. But let us be methodical, and deal first with house matters. Of domestic cleaning there appear to be two kinds: (1.) The dry-polishing process as pursued in France, where the gargon skates, as it were, on brushes over the bees'-waxy floor. (2.) The wet-scrubbing process of England, where the house- maid goes down on her knces, and labours away with soap and water and a hard brush, as if she were determined to have the deals as white as biscuit-ware. For our own part we are sufficiently unprejudiced to prcfer the French to the English plan; for though abroad, where carpets are scarce, the polished floors and stairs are, for Walking upon, attended with all the inconvenience of ice, nevertheless, in our own country—where almost every cottage has its "Kid- derminster"—we think the dirt would be more easily removed from the floor if the boards were protectedby a coat of varnish, than it is by the present method of soaking them with water —— 28 DOMESTIC MANNEBS OF THE TEÜSSIANS. every week. Moreover, wo sliould, by such means, avoid the cold vapour-bath that an Englishman is obliged to submit to upon cleaning-days, and be no longer required to sleep in rooms the boards of which had that morning been soddened with wet, and from which an impcrceptible mist must continue to rise for, at least, a day or two afterwards. Still, some may think it a debatable matter as to whether the French-polishing plan be preferable to the English-scrub- bino; method of house-cleanin»;. Nevertheless, there cannot be any dispute as to the Rhenish modo having all the sloppy inconveniences of the English without any of its cleanliness. A Prussian " braves Mädchen " (maid-servant), when she thinks it requisite to clean the boards of your rooms, dips a cloth into a pail of water, and twisting the wet rag round the end of a broom, proceeds to smudge the planks over with it, so that any dirt or dust that is on the floor is rubbed indelibly into it — for no provious sweeping has removed it thcnce. Even the stairs, common to the whole house, are never scrubbed from year's end to year's end, but merely smeared occasionally over with a moist cloth, while the stone passages are cleaned with a hard brush at the end of a long handle—" hearth-stoning " bcing a process of which the Rhenish housewives are supremcly ignorant, and whitened doorsteps and passages never seen in the land. Indeed the staircase of the house in which we lodged—uncarpeted and filthy as it was — coxdd have found a parallel only in a common lodging-house in St. Giles's. The above-described muddling, slobbery mode of cleansing is practised, it sliould be added, only upon such parts of the rooms as are unencumbered by furniture; for your " brave girl" (braves Mädchen) takes care not to overheat herseif by moving any table, chair, or sofa, that may be in her way while engaged in the Operation, but smears her nasty damp ■ PEUSSIAN CLEANLINESS. 29 dishclout round about her. To remove the dust from under the beds would be assurcdly considercd a Stretch of labour amounting to over-nicety, and we have repeatedly seen a layer of fluff and dirt under German bedsteads in wliich a crop of house-leek might have flourished. Of regulär " dusters," such as we use in England, the Prus- sian housewives are utterly ignorant, so that our servant (who, it should be stated, in order that we may seem to draw no highly-coloured picture of the people, had lived in a Prin- cess's family, and at a Herr GeneraVs, before Coming to us,) positively stared with wonder at being furnished with a few yards of " check," for removing the dust from the furniture, saying that she had been generally accustomed to use the stove-broom for the purpose. Glass-cloths, again, are novelties in Rhineland,—bits of old rice or coffee bags being preferred by the " Mädchens" and tliis on the plea that the sacking soaks up the water better than the lincn fabric common with us. Knife-boards, too, rank as foreign luxuries,—the approved method of brightening the " Messers" (though clean knives are extraordinary luxuries in the land) being by rubbing the blades with ashes sprinkled on a piece of old sacking. Your linen is washed by the laundress with black soap, so that the shirts on your back smell of pauperism as strongly as a low lodging-house. The water-bottles, even at the best Rhenish hoteis, our maid assured us, are cleaned with what an English chambermaid empties into the slop-pail; the iron cooking-pans are rendered fit for use, when new, by boiling horse-manure in them; and even slop-pails themselves are comparatively unknown in the houses, the Utensils being, openly and unblushingly, carried by the women down the public stairs -:."K To an English fishwife such a State of shamelessness among mmmm 30 DOMESTIC MANNEES OF TIIE PRUSSIANS. women would appear incredible. A long rcsidence, however, of our family in the French capital, had somewhat prepared us for a greater warnt of decency tlie farther we travelled from home. In Paris we had seen the gar$on at an hotel usher- ing French ladies towards the "cabinet," and the " dames" curtseying at the door to the man with all the grace of Parisian manners for the favour. At a respectahle French hötel at which we stayed there was a placard in one of the filthy private apart- ments saying, "il est difendu d , —~ — par terre." We had known, moreover, the waiters of the neighbouring restaurant to enter the sleeping-rooms of well-to-do ladies, in order to serve them with their breakfasts in bed. We had seen, too, elegantly-dressed women in the "balcon" at the theatres hold their handkerchiefs out by the corners and spit into the middle of the cambric, with a noise that made one's blood curdle with disgust. Indeed, scarcely a day had passed with us in Paris but what we were positively turned sick by the women of the " politest nation in the world," and had to thank God that our English ladies were still not utterly corrupted by French habits and manners. In the Rhenish capital, the shamelessness of women and the obscenity of men are even more degraded than in the city which the French delight to call " la plus civilizee du monde." We remember once visiting Egyptian Hall during the exhibition of the Ioway Indians, and being Struck with the unabashed character of the woman among the savage tribe, who stood, without the faintest blush upon her cheeks, at the edge of the small platform, suckling her infant from her nude breast in the presence of some hundreds of male and female spectators. "Is it then unnatural" we asked ourselves, " for woman to be shame-faced, since there stood one in a State of naturc, who was evidently destitute of any such feeling ?" TKUSSIAN AVANT OF DECENCY. 31 The answer soon rose to the mind—that shame in woman is as unnatural as it is to love one's enemies and to do good to those that persecute you,— as unnatural as is the love of the beautiful and the good, rather than a delight in putting the aged to death, and drinking wine out of the skulls of those whom we have slain in battle. Shame, indeed, is one of those developed and educated feelings which, like the sentiments of the conscience itself, may often appear so utterly wanting in the raw material of human nature, that many might believe the sense to be merely the caprice of fashion,— an artificial taste, as it were, begotten by prejudice. -But if shame be really an educated sentiment, wliat shall we think of the schooling of those where all are said to be trained, and yot where even an English hound is taught more cleanliness than the great body of the people,—where our prize-pigs' backs are less scurfy than the heads of the women of the middle classes,—where spittoons are as common at every gentleman's house as baths with us,—and where at the public gardens well-dressed ladies retire behind trees with less privacy than cats? The Germans pride themselves that they have a high love of poetry in their nature, but, in the name of common sense, is it possible to appreciate the beautiful without having an equally lively sense of the ugly? Can we admire purity and adore virtue without loathing filth, and hating, in our inmost souls, anything that borders upon obscenity ? Does the poetic quality lie in singing of the deeds of some robber noble, some chivalrous vagabond, and talking of the secret functions of nature with a gusto tliat might be excusable in nightmen, but which becomes unpardonable in a nation of men assuming to be the ajsthetic teachers of the world ? Mast we not believe it to be merely morbid sentimentalism to affect raptures at the perfume of the ■■ ^» 32 DOMESTIC MANNEKS OF THE PliUSSIANS. rose and immaculateness of the lily, whilst fathcrs talk moral filth in the presence of their daughters, and men and women are nasally and mentally insensible to the stench of their own refuse ? In many a barbarous country cleanliness forms part of the religion of the peoplc. In our own land there is a proverb current among us, which ranks the homely virtue next to godliness. In the forms and ceremonies of Christianity, too, baptism is but a type of the purity which is acceptable in the eyes of God. The Rheinländers, however, seem to have no sense of that unchastity of soul which is offensive to the Almighty, nor of that physical or mental filth that is loathsome both to the senses and nnderstanding of every decently-educated man and woman throughout the really civilised World. Intaplato lilpisl] Sattes. (2.) WORMS. " The Upper Rhine " differs not more in its scenery than it does in its associations from " tue middle " portion of the stream. Between Colognc and Mayence, the Rhine shores are here solemn and sombre, with their rocky passes and mountain gorges, and there luxuriant and sunny with their rieh vine- yard slopes and broad orchard plains. Retween Mayence and Schaffhausen, however, the scene changes to one long, dreary, willow-tufted swamp, with the wildness of the great German river tamed down to the dullness &tf" WORMS. 33 of a Dutch canal, and the streara twistins and turning at every point likc some thin bluo vein pulsing languidly on to the world's great heart — the sea. The memories, too, linked with the banks of the Ober and Mittel-Rhein are as different as the Stocks and stones them- selves. Below the Rheingau, every mountain peak and summit is as if silvered over with the j)ale mythic light of some fairy legend, or eise blood-stained with the barbaric glory of some " robber-noble's : ' deeds. But the rocks no sooner disappear from the river banks, and nature herseif begins to assume a less savage aspect, than romance ceases to people the Rhine-shores with water-sprites, and brigand-barons; and the associations, as if to harmonise with the more prosaic character of the scene, get to partake of the solid dignity of civilised history. The three men who have influenced the world, perhaps more than any other triumviri, are John Gutenbebg, Beethold Schwaez, and Maetin Luther : the three great originators of the three greatest of human powers — Printing, Gunpowder, and Protestantism; powers coequal in force, and yet how different in kind!—one mental, another physical, and the third spiritual in its energy—the first designed to teach, the second to slay, and the last to save. The journey along the Upper Rhine, is one long panorama of splendid associations. At Strasburg we tread on ground made memorable by' Gutenberg's first attempts at printing with moveable types. At Freiburg we gaze, with a quickened pulse, upon scenes which serve to realize to us the Franciscan Friar's emotions on discovering the explosive properties of a mixture of charcoal, sulphur, and saltpetre. VOL. IL I) 34 BOMESTIC MANNEKS OF TUE riiUSSIANS. At Worms we walk in tlie very footsteps of Luther him- self, and stand beside the spot wliere stood the brave Augustine Monk, as he looked round the assembly of princes and prelates that held his life in their hands, and then uttered the heroic words,-— " To THESE PBINCIPLES I AM FIXED. I CANNOT SAY OTHER- wise. Goi> help me. Amen ! " To the Protestant mind there is no place in the wide world so quick with interest as the ancient Rhenish town where the Imperial Diets of Germany were wont to be held—'the battle- field of ono of the proudest victories ever won .by mortal man—the victory of a single unarmed hand raised against all the powers of " Christendom,"—and a victory upon which the liberties of Europe depended more than upon any otlier " decisive " conquest in history. What though the city walls of Worms are at present crumbling into rubbish heaps, and the fortress stones rotten as touchwood with decay; what though the dried-up moats environing the ramparts are planted with orchards now rather than cannon, and the old town, since Luther's time, has been " reduced to cinders"—(the thickness of the walls of the Cathedral and the Synagogue preserving them ahne from the general destruction*); what though the hospital of the Knights * The Domkirche, or Cathedral, has some few attractions for the architect and archseologist, but little or none for the general traveller. It is a solid and heavy red-stone building, with a round and pointed stone tower (in shape like a huge cut crayon) at each of its four corners. It is built principally in what is called the Byzantine, or rounded-arch style. The anterior reminds the unprofessional spectator somewhat of Speier, though it hardly rejoiees to the same extent in the gilt-gingerbread Order of decoration. It has two cupolse and tw r o chancels, and an ungainly black-and-red marble pulpit, studded with plaster statuettes. The principal altar is ornamented with heavy marble pillars, and huge gilt statues the size of life; and tawdry with its golden " glories " and brass ap- pointments. The chapels on either side are in the mongrel Renaissance style, «»t» WORMS. 35 of St. John, where Luther sojourned for fourteen days during his stay in the city, has long since been rased to the ground, and the red-stone foundation-walls, at the farther side of the fine old Domkirche, that is seen peeping over the tumble-down ram- parts yondor, are all that now-a-days remain of the ancient Bishop's Palace, in wliose hall sat the " young emperor, and the six prince-electors of Germany, with the attendant archdukes, dukes and margraves, archbishop, bishops and abbots, ambas- sadors and deputies, princes, counts, and sovereigns, besides the Papal legates and commissaries," that made up the Great Inland gaudy with their metal figures of saints. Tlie walls and pillars of the nave are in places stained with the remains of frescoes, that scem as if the colours and designs had been half-washed out with the damp. The " Tauf- kapelle" here is curious from the old bas-reliefs of Scripture-subjects ahout the walls. These are all painted a green-grey or olive colour, and many of the figures are the size of life. One tableau is a rüde representation of the Saviour in the manger, with a queer-looking knubbly little angel flying dow 7 n to the stähle. Another exhibits a huge genealogical tree, with the roots sprouting out of a figure of Abraham at the bottom of it, and a little David with a harp peeping out from among the branches above, while the Virgin appears perched on the topmost bough of all. These, as well as the others about the walls, are all surrounded with twiggy arabesque borders, and the place is littered with Catholic ceremonial lumber, such as dusty silk banners, and Stores of gaudy tall candelabra, and surplus altars that have a faded Mayday-chimney-sweep kind of look, from the dirty old artificial fiowers with which they are decorated. Theother principalobject of interest in Worms is the ancient Jews' Synagogue, which is situate in the purlieus, as it were, of the town, the streets in the neigh- bourhood having a narrow lane-like character that reminds one of the close-pent Jews' quarter at Frankfort, and somewhat of our own Holywell Street. Over many of the doorways that we pass may be seen handsome bits of Quentin-Matsys- like ironwork — the metal wrought with all the delicacy of filagree—as well as fine old oak carved lintels and porches to the ricketty old houses. The entrance to the synagogue is as mean as the approach to a stable ; and the outer tabernacle, which is said to have been built some years before Christ, is utterly deficient in all architectural Ornament, being rüde as a large cellar (which indeed it is not unlike), and fitted merely with a little red-stone seat, like a small arm-chair, set in a niche at one end for the rabbi; and with a narrow ledge of stone jutting from the wall and stretching all round the Chamber for the congregation. The inner tabernacle dates only from the year of our Lord 1000. It is extremely D 2 36 DOMESTIO MANNEBS OF THE PEUSSIANS. perial Diet of the year 1521, and before whom " tfje foelUk- Iofaetf anü pfcus Boctor Jtflattm Uutfjer, of tfjc ©rötr of gUtps- u'rus," was cited to appear and " gtbe ansfoer touching tlje öoctrtnes anü rtje lioofts tfjat ftc Ijaü lateln tssuetr;" still, though there is hardly a buikling and not a street left such as it was in Luther's time, it is sufficient for the mind to know that the ground it is treading was once trodden by the valiant Re- former's foot in order to conjure the memorable old places and scenes back into lifo—to build up in the Imagination the Imperial Council Chamber once more—to people it with its princely and papal host again — to throng the narrow streets anew, and crowd the Windows of the tall old houses with the dark, with the low roof supported by tliick and durapy Egyptian-lookmg columns. The antique brass candlesticks beside the desk of the high priest are peculiar, and have eaeh nine branches to them, to hold the nine candles for Moses and his children. Here in a closet are kept Bibles and prayer-books, that are Said to be G00 years old ; these are written in large Hebrevv characters on long skins of parchment wound on rollers, and covered with cloths embroidered with Hebrew. Tlie Hebrew Community of Worms is believed to be one of the most ancient in Germany. A tradition asserts that such a Community existed at the time of the first destruction of the temple of Jerusalem by the Babylonians—588 years before Christ; and some declare it to be proven by historical documents that a body of Israelites was located at Worms before the birth of the Saviour. Worms, indeed, was formerly regarded by the Hebrews as the German. Jerusalem ; and there was a proverb current through the country saying, "Worms Jews — good Jews." Under the Emperor Ferdinand I., in 1559, and, indeed, from the earliest dates, the Jews of this city were allowed privileges and liberties accorded to no other Israelites in the empire ; they were permitted to have a chief of the synagogue, and the Grand Rabbi of Worms took precedence of every other German-Jewish priest. The origin of these special indulgences is said (according to an ancient legend) to be due to the circumstauce of the Hebrew Community of Worms having, in a letter addressed to the King of Jerusalem, protested against the crucihxion of Jesus Christ. The legend, however, unfortu- nately, omits to explain how it came to pass that the news of the Saviour's condemnation travelled from Jerusalem to Worms in time sufficient for the Jews there to send a letter back to the " Holy Land," begging for a remission of the sentence—especially as the crucifixion is represented by each of the Evangelists as having been carried out on the same day as the judgment was delivered; and there were assuredly no electric telegraphs in those times ! WORMS. 37 :- , sml ■it tfki hü ?:•.:■< .,,; Itt* :: ;2B :J" -': iia .-:- 1 1 pSll sarae dense multitudc eager to see the daring Friar Martin goby. Once on thc reverend spot, indeed, and tlie spirit (such is the force of local association !) lives for a time in tlie past. We no sooner stand beside tlie old red walls of the Council Chamber, than the " mind's eye " beholds, as in a dream, the humble covered car (which the town-Council had provided to carry the heresiarch to the Diet at Worms) waiting outside the University Gates at Wittenberg, and the little band of Reformers who have begged to aecompany Doctor Martin on his perilous journey, stealing forth one after another to mount the steps of the vehicle. First glides past the figure of Jerome Schurff, " the gentle young professor of jurisprudence,"—then the form of young Peter Suaven, the Danish Student who resides with Me- lancthon, flits by—and after him comes the shade of "the im- petuous Amsdorff." And when these have taken their seats the spirit of Luther himself appears to us, emerging from the friendly throng gathered about the College gates; and as he is seen to throw himself into the arms of the tender-hearted Melancthon—him who loved Martin "better than Alcibiades did Socrates"—the memory of his noble parting words rings in the ear,—" If I do not return, dear brother, and my enemies put me to death, continue to teach and stand fast to God's truth." Then a hundred hands Start forth clasped in prayer, and the air seems to resound with a solemn hymn from the crowd of weeping Gospel friends, as tho figure of the great Reformer ascends the car and gives the herald the signal to advance. " The Bishops and Cardinais at Worms will burn you and reduce your body to ashes as they did John Huss," we imagine we can hear the people cry, while the vision of the train moves slowly along the road, with the spectral form of Gaspard 38 DOMESTIC MANNEKS OF THE l'EUSSIANS. Sturm riding at the head, clad in his herald's robe of office, and carrying the Imperial eagle in bis band. " Though tbey should kindle a fire all the way from Wittenberg to Worms, the flames of which reached to heaven, I would walk tiirough it in the name of the Lord," the fancy hears the courageous monk reply, as it conjures up his image standing up in the vehicle, with bis hands raised high above his head. On moves the dreamy cavalcade; and as the imagination follows the reverend little band through the several towns and villages by the way, it sees visions of peasants and Citizens suddenly Streaming forth and crowding about the car of the brave monk, as if he had been some great general returning from victory, rather than " a presumptuous heretic " on his way, probably, to the stake, Now tbey are at Naumburg, in the Valley of the Saale, and as the image of the Reformers' car glides before the eyes, the phantom figure of a stern and zealous priest seems to start from out the crowd, holding in his band a picture of Savonarola the Italian martyr, who was burnt at Florence by order of Pope Alexander VI., and this he thrusts before Friar Martin's eyes in portentous silence. Then the words of Luther seem to float upon the breeze, — "Satan would prevent by such terrors the confession of the truth in the assembly of princes;" and immediately afterwards the exhortation of the priest murmurs solemnly in the brain,—" Stand firm in the truth thou hast proclaimed, and God will as firmly stand by thee." The next minute the scene changes to the entry into Weimar. "Look there!" we fancy we can hear the herald cry; and instantly, as the car floats through the air-drawn picture of the town, there starts up a vision of Imperial messengers, mm M :v I ff« WOESIS. 39 ■ t - posting at the corners of the streets the Emperor's edict commanding the works of Martin Luther to be seized. " Well, Doctor, will you proceed ? " is suddenly whispered in our ear, as if the herald himself were at crar elbow, and had spoken the words; and no sooner has the memory died away than Luther's valiant answer echoes through the memory: " Aye! though interdicted in every city I would go on." Again the vision melts, and the instant afterwards the mind pictures the humble Gospel group advancing slowly towards the town of Erfurth; and then, in the distance, we sec a dim cloud of horsemen moving towards the car. On the troop sweep, like a wraith of morning mist before the wind, and presently we seem to recognise among the imaginary throng the features of Crotus, the Rector of the Erfurth University, and Eobanus Hesse, the friend of Me- lancthon, and " prince of poets" (as Luther used to call him), and Euricius Cordus, and John Draco, together with a number of Senators, and burghers, and members of the College — all come forth to do honour to the man who had dared to declare war against the Pope. At the head of the troop is seen a form that we know instinctively to be that of the young enthusiast Justus Jonas,—he who when a law-student had crossed forests infested with robbers, and eities devastated by the plague, to visit Erasmus at Brüssels, and who, now that he has turned theologian, has come forth to beg that he may share with his beloved Luther the dangers of the journey to Worms. Then, as the car appears to draw nearer the town, fresh crowds of horsemen and pedestrians seem to start into sight at every turn, so that by the time the city gates are reached the highways are seen to be packed with one black mass of speetators, as if it were some great potentate entering the 40 DOMESTIC MANNERS OK THE l'HUSSIANS. place, rather than the poor monk wlio had formerly begged his bread in its streets. Suddenly the picture dissolves into a sadder scene; for the mind wanders to the sick chamber of Friar Martin at Eisenach, and, as if gazing into some magic mirror, it im- mediately beholds the wan figure of the Augustine inonk stretched on liis couch, with his dear companions Amsdorff', Jonas, SchurfF, and Suaven, grouped in affectionate anxiety about his pillow, and the kind-hearted John Oswald, the mayor of the town, Coming towards them with a cup of cordial to revive thcir wearied friend. Evanescent as thought itself, the image fades—like mist in the sunshine—with the least shift of the mind; and then another phase in the journey to Worms appears painted like a mirage in the air. The little caravan has halted for a while, almost within sight of the place of thcir destination; between the trees the four misty spires of the cathedral of Worms are seen dimly looming in the distance; the sward on either side the roadway is dappled like a fawn's back with the sun-spots falling between the openings of the forest canopy; the horse wanders with the empty car, nibbling the fresh grass as it strays among the stems; the devoted Jerome, Peter, Justus, and Amsdorff, have sought the seclusion of the neighbouring coppice to offer up a prayer, and there, dusked by the shadow of the leafy covert, their bared heads and kneeling forms can just be seen; while, stretched on the velvet turf, beneath a broad-spreading elm, lies the form of Friar Martin himself, spent with fatigue from long travelling as well as anxiety for the doom awaiting him, and seeking by a brief slumber to brace up all his powers for the coming fight. As drowning men are said to see in their death-struwles AVOEMS. 41 the various scenes of their early lives flash one aftcr another through their brain, so the mind fancies that Martin Luther, believing himself to be on his way to the stake, must, in bis short rest under the tree that now bears his name at Pfiffligheim, have lived over again the several events of his childhood. Now he dreams that he is the poor woodcutter's child, once more following his mother through the Mansfeldt forests, and gathering up his little fagot as she binds the broken boughs together. Then he is with his father, tending the rüde smelting furnaces recently set up in the mines, and watching, while all around is crimson with the fires and grimy with the smoke, the dazzling streatn of liquid glowing metal shoot from the loosened tap of clay—white as though it were a rope of snow. Next he is the poor scholar at the Franciscan school at Magdeburg. It is the festival of Christ's nativity, and he, in Company with children poorer than himself, is wandering from house to house through the neighbouring villages, sing- ing " in four parts" the usual carols on the infant Jesus, born at Bethlehem, in the hopes of obtaining a little food to satisfy his wants. A moment afterwards he is at Eisenbach, and again chanting with his schoolfellows from door to door, to obtain a morsel of bread. Suddenly a woman appears on the thresh- old of one of the houses: it is Ursula, the wife of Conrad Cotta, and daughter of the burgomaster of Ilefeld. She has been touched by the sweetness of Martin's voice, and recognises his figure as one she has often noted among the assemblies of the faithful. She has just seen him, too, driven with frowns and harsh words from the doors of her neighbours, and now that she beholds him standing so sadly before her own 42 DOMESTIC MANNEKS OF TUE PKUSSIANS. she beckons him to enter, and gives him food to appease his hunger, and the next day takes him to live altogether under her roof. In another minute the dreamer is at the College at Erfurth, studying for the law. He is in the Universitj- library, opening the hooks one after another to learn their writers' names. One volume in particular attracts his attention: the thick coating of dust upon the edge of it teils that it has never been opened for many years. He reads the title; it is a Bible — a forbidden book in those times. His heart beats as he turns over the leaves of the inspired volume. The first page which rivets his attention is the story of Hannah and the young Samuel, and his soul can hardly contain its joy as he reads that " God raiseth up the poor out of the dust, and lifteth up the beggar from the dunghill, to set them among princes." Again the scene shifts, and Martin is returning from a visit to his father's house at Mansfeldt, in order to resume his studies at the College of Erfurth. Within a short distance of the town he is overtaken by a violent thunderstorm. The heavens seem to tremble and split with the peals—the sky is in a blaze with the broad sheets of fiame — the earth at his feet is blue with the lightning, and the holt falls in a burning ball close beside him. The boy fancies his hour has come: he casts himself on his knees, and makes a vow, that if the Lord deliver him from his danger he will abandon the World for ever, and devote himself entirely to God.* Still another memory rises to the mind of the slumbering * It is wonderful to note how much there is of " fortuitous circumstance" in the early events of Luther's life. Had Ursula not been charmed by the sweet- ness of young Martin's voice, and so have been induced to take pity on him, and grant him the shelter of her roof, the poor Scholar must have returned to Mansfeldt, and have been brought up, most probably, to his father's trade. Again, had Martin not taken the Bible down " by chance" among the other books that WOKMS. 43 '.: monk. A few of his brother-students are with him at supper in the University. They sing together once more, as he shares with them the joys of the World for the last tirne. At last he teils them that he is about to give himself up to God for ever; nor will he listen to their remonstrances against the vow which he has made ; and immediately they have left him, he takes with him Ins Virgil and Plautus, and retires alone, in the darkness of night, to the monastery of the hermits of St. Augustine. The gate opens, and quickly shuts again lipon parents, com- panions, and the world without. And now the dreamer suddenly Starts to his feet, roused by the tramp of approaching horsemen. A messenger from Spalatin, the chaplain of the friendly Elector of Saxony, is at the head of the troop. We fancy we can hear him whisper as he advances to Luther, " Spalatin entreats you not to enter Worms," and instantly the sublime reply is heard again : " Go teil your master, that even if there were as many devils in Worms as tiles on the house-tops still would I enter it." At length the procession, that we have followed in fancy from town to town on its way from Wittenberg to the Diet, passes through the streets of the very city in which we ourselves are standing. It needs then but little fancy to realise the history of the eventful 16th of April, 1521. All are expecting Luther. The news of his Coming has outstripped the travellers themselves. Young nohles, knights and gentlemen, in the train of princes, to the numher of a hundred, unable to restrain their impatience, ride out to meet him and Surround him as an escort as he enters the barbican. A Ue was idly glancing at in the library at Erfurth, he might never have seen or heen touohed by the sacred volume. And further, had it not heen for the " accident" of the thunder-storm occurring on Martin's return from his father's to Erfurth, he might never have made the vow to enter the Augustine monastery. And, if neither of these accidental events had happened, how different a story might history have had to teil! 44 DOMESTIC MANNERS OF THE PEUSSIANS. dense crowd waits for liim at the city gates. Before the car is seen the Imperial herald riding in füll costume; then comes Luther, with his friends Schurff, Suaven, and Amsdorff, seated beside him, under the awning of the humble vehicle, and Jonas follows on horseback, whilst the cavaliers throng on either side of the car. It is mid-day as they pass the gates, and though every one is at table, the watchman on the tower of the Domkirche no sooner sounds his hörn than all rush forth into the streets with the cry of " Luther is come !" Two thousand persons bear him Company through the narrow thoroughfares, and every moment the crowd increases. Suddenly a court fool, dressed in a suit of deep black, and bearing a large funeral cross, forces his way through the mul- titude, and advancos towards Luther, singing a satirical requiem for the repose of his soul. The shouts of the throng, however, soon drown the ominous " De Profundis " of the jester. And now comes the last and grandest scene of all; a scene that, for human dignity, is without a parallel in civilised history. The hereditary Marshai of the Empire summons the monk of Wittenberg to the Diet, The herald, Gaspard Sturm, walks first; after him comes Ulrich of Pappenheim, the Marshai, and the Reformer follows. The crowd that fills the streets is greater than ever. The tops of the houses and the pavements of the streets, above and below, are all covered with peasants and Citizens. It is almost impossible to advance, and the herald Orders Luther to be led through the gardens and passages of private residences, so as to avoid the pressure of the multitude which heaves to and fro like a sea in a storm. " Make way ! make way ! " the herald cries; but no one moves, and though the Imperial soldiers clear a passage by main force, the people rush forward directly afterwards to enter the Hall with the monk, and are kept back only by the halberds of the troops. WOBMS. 45 In tlie inferior of the hall, every corner is as crowded as without. In the antc-chambers and i'ecesses of the Windows, more than 5000 spectators — Germans, Italians, Spaniards, and others, are closely pressed together. As Luther advances with difficulty to the door of the council-chamber, an old general (George of Freundsberg) taps Ihm on the Shoulder and says kindly, as he shakes his head—a head blanched in many battles : " Poor monk ! thou art going to make a nobler stand to-day than I or any other captain ever made in the bloodiest of our rights." At length the doors of the hall are forced back, and Luther Stands in the presence of the most august and memorable assembly recorded in history. The guards make way for him, and he advances to the throne of the Emperor. All eyes are fixed on him. The sight of so illustrious a conclave appears for an instant to dazzle and intimidate the son of the lowly niiner of Mansfeldt. Ilis evident emotion touches some of the princes present, and one of tliem whispers in his ear: " When ye shall be brought before governors and kings for my sake, the Spirit of your Father shall speak in you." A deep silence follows, broken at last by John ab Eck, the Chancellor of the Archbishop of Treves, who rises and says in a loud voice: " Martin Luther, you are required to answer two questions. First, do you acknowledge these books to have been written by you? and secondly, are you prepared to retract such books and their opinions; or do you persist in the opinions you have advanced in them ? " Having been allowed time to consider his reply, the monk at length concludes bis defence by saying, in a tone of mildness and moderation, tliough marked with Christian firm- ness: " As soon as I am convinced by the writings of the Prophets and Apostles I will retract every error, and be the first to lay hold of my books and throw them into the fire." 46 DOMESTIC MANNES OF TUE rilUSSIANS. The Chancellor of Treves cries aloud: "You havc not answered the question put to you: you are required to give a clear and precise answer. Will you or will you not retract ? " Luther responds without hesitation: " Unless I am con- vinced by the testimony of Scripture, or by the clearest reasoning, I cannot and I will not retract; for it is unsafe for a Christian to speak against his conscience." Then, looking round on the assembly which holds his life in its hands, he adds : " To this point I am fixed. I cannot say otherwise. May God help me. Amen." The assembly is overpowered with the dignity of the simple monk arraigned before the mighty ones of the nations, but appearing in his quiet courago greater and mightier than any. Many of the princes find it difficult to conceal their admiration. The Spaniards and Italians alone attempt to ridicule a greatness of soul which they cannot comprehend. " If you do not retract," says the Chancellor, " the Emperor and the States will consult what course to pursue against an incorrigible heretic." The intrepid monk replies: " May God be my helper, for I can retract nothing." Thus ends the memorable Diet at Worms: the monk retracts notliincj. And thus begins the glorious Reformation. And even though the city now contains not a stone nor a board that can boast of having been pressed by Martin Luther's foot, or trodden by any of the multitude of friends that thronged about the great Reformer, still the spot remains sacred to every friend of religious liberty—as the Runny- mede of Protestantism. STYLE OF LIVING. 47 IL STYLE OF LIVING. §1- The Kind of Meat, Hokseflesii, Black Bkead, Coffee, etc. CONSDMED BY THE PeOFLE. Theke is the same melancholy tale to be told concerning the want of refinement at table among Prussians, as there is respecting their want of cleanliness botb in their persons and honses. Barbarism, and even animalism, is never so conspicuous among people as when you see them at their food. Eating, or indeed any act of mere sensuality, every refined nature knows, is so repulsive to others, that gentlefolks with us are naturally studious how to avoid offending the susceptibilities of those who may happen to sit at the same board with tliern. Some of our poets have been unable to bear the siglit of a lady eating, even though the act wcre performed with all the delicacy of the most polished manners. But, witbout going to such absurdly sensitive extremes, it is highly necessary that dames who would be regarded as a grade above Carnivora in the scale of creation, should learn to perform an animal function after the least possible animal fashion. Again, the quality of the food indulged in is a sure criterion as to whether the people have got beyond that primitive coarse- ness of palate which delights only in the strongest flavoured ■■■ 48 DOMESTIC MANNEES OF TUE PKITSSIANS. viands—evcn as the eyes of savages find pleasure merely in the gaudiest colours; or as to wliether, by a long course of superior breeding, the nervös of taste have beceme daintily discriminative between the more delicate of the sapid qualities of things — in the same manner as the educated retina of the artist feels its greatest charm to lie in the fine harmonies of tint, and light and shade. The seavengers, fiusherinen, nightmen, and sweeps of London, live upon the coarsest possible food, for, to their leathery tongues, raw onions, pickled whelks, and the disgusting Compound called " fagots," have alone power to sting their nerves into Sensation; and we should as soon expect to find them tickled with the subtle nicety of a French made-dish, as to discover their rooms ornamented and perfumed with flowers. But even with these people, who rank as the lowest of our nation, we never knew one of them (and we have paid some little attention to the study of their idiosyncrasies) to be so nearly allied to the beast of proy as to delight in eating a considerable part of his animal food raw — as the barbarous Preussen do. Man has been defined, by logicians who have puzzled their brains to arrive at some more essential difference than his reason whereby to distinguish him from other sentient creatures — as " a cooking animal;" since it seems to be the custom with all persons taking rank as human beings to abstain from eating their meat in a crude condition, like less culinary creatures. Such a defmition, however, hardly applies to the Prussian family, for it is the fashion with them to partake of raw herrings, raw ham, raw dried sahnon, raw sausages, raw dried geese, and a variety of equally revolting articles. In the Government- School reading-book ("für die erste Elementarklasse") oecurs the following passage:—" One eats bread, pastry, meal-food, vegetables, egg-food, flesh, fish, roast- PEUSSIÄN BEEF. 49 meat, milk, butter, cheese, honey, fruit, berries, and nuts. Some things one eats raw—what?" Whereupon the child has to answer, " Ham, sausages, herrings," &c. &c. Now the eating of flesh, even to those who are not of the Vegetarian persuasion, is at all times no very angelic Operation, and \ve have known English surgeons who could not be prevailed upon to carve the roasted and boiled meats at dinner. But a Preusse is not afflicted with any such sensibility, for, to his coarse raind, there appears to be no smack of cannibalism in eating the flesh of geese,— that once breathed and feit, ay, and perhaps thought like himself,—in its pure State of mere dried animal tissue. We will, however, proceed to deal seriatim with the several subjects which stand at the head of the present section. The Prussian meat consists principally of "Rindfleisch," literally bullocks'-flesh, and Anglich, beef, and this is sold at five groschens (about sixpence of our money) per pound, for what we call the "prime parts." The reader, however, must not fancy that the Rhenish bullock is like our own—bredandfed for the sole purpose of the table; for in Rhineland the wretched creature, instead of Irving a life of luxury and ease, as with us, is used as a draught animal, and does almost as much work as an omnibus horse previous to being slaughtered,—nearly all the " wagons " being drawn by the future beef of the country. Now this custom has a double inconvenience: first, the Utility of the animal as a beast of bürden tends to prolong its life far into the years of touglmess; and secondly, the hard labour which the poor brüte has undergone not only wears every ounce of fat off its bones, but gives a sinewiness and gristly character, as well as coarse grain to its flesh, that make it eat about as tender and toothsome as would a Joint of the Egyptian Sphynx when boiled. vol. n. e WM 50 DOMESTIC MANNEKS OF THE PKUSSIANP. But if the beef is of too ancient and tough a nature to please pampered English palates, the veal has the very oppo- site defect, and is far too young, and the flesh too pappy, to be eatable by any but semi-savages. Indeed, the poor calves are killed in their very babyhood—when only a week old; and the custom, we must confess, smacks to our mind of such an over-greediness to turn a groschen out of the young things' lives, that we always sicken at the sight of the eternal " Kalbfleisch'''' —a viand which is more populär than any other in Ilhineland, simply because it is little better than half the price of beef, or a fraction more than threepence a-pound. Mutton (Hammelfleisch) is a luxurious rarity, fetching rather more than sevenpence a-pound; for the hüls, upon which we should graze sheep, are either planted with vineyards or covered with wood, so that during our stay in Prussia we saw only one flock. Lamb, on the other hand, is unknown; for if the calves are killed almost as soon as born — to prevent them having any share of their mothers' milk — the young of the ewe (owing to the produce of its udder having no com- mercial value attached to it) are allowed to live on to a re- spectable old age, in order that they may bring more groschens to the breeder. German pork (Schweinfleisch) is positively uneatable by English people. Dairy-fed animals are unknown in the country, the Rhenish porkers being literally gutter-fed. Nor is this all. A large proportion of this same German pork con- sists of the flesh of elderly sows that have borne multitudinous families; for the German "Bauers'" (peasants) never think of killing any animal for food until they have got their last Pfennig out of it. The consequence is, that the fat of this same pork is positively yellow, and the flesh itself red and leathery, as well as coarse and rank to the palate. Such as it is, the pork fetches about five gros (sixpence) the pound, whilst M :: ■ n hu :'üi («bin l'OULTÜY AND FISH. 51 sucking-pigs [Spanferkel) may bo had for twenty gros (two Shillings) in town, and for half that sum in the country. Pork, however, is a dish seldom seen on a German table, the greater portion of the swine-flesh being made into Schinken (ham), ("for that gives more," say the Bauers,) and the rest converted into Wurst (sausages). Of poulterers there are none in Coblenz, though it is the site of a royal "Residenz" —the fowls and pigeons being taken to the market alive in sacks, and the housewives either standing by wbile their necks are twisted, or eise carrying the fluttering birds home by their legs, and playing the executioners them- selves. Chickens cost from 6d. to ls. each (according to size), and pigeons about Id. the pair, though it must not be imagined that for this price the birds are anything liko our own in quality, it being the custom of the Rhinelanders to fatten no animal for food. Indeed, the people teil you it will not pay to prcpare any living thing for the table. The fish is all freshwater; for at the rate of Preussisch locomotion, where the quiekest conveyance is the " Schnellpost" (or, to speak more correctly in these fast days, the snail- post), of course it would be madness to expect that such delicacies as turbots and soles should be brought up to Rhine- land from the sea. Of the freshwater kind, the St. Goar salmon (caught under the Lurlei rocks) is peculiarly fine, though rather scarce and dear, costing as much as 20 gros (2s. English) per Ib. The " May-fish," as it is termed in Ger- many—or " the chad," as it is denominated by us—is, how- ever, sufficiently abundant to be had at the rate of 5 gros (&d.) each, even though they be as large as ordinary salmon. This fish is purchased principally by the poorer classes—the rieh generally despising it, not becauso it is bad- flavoured, but on aecount of its being brought to market dead; whereas the carp, tench, pike, &c, come alive in tanks. e 2 52 DOMESTIC MANNEltS OF THE HtUSSIANS. The May-fish is generally eatcn " souced;" nor is it at all unpalatable. To tlie above list of the kinds of animal food consumed in the Rhenish provinces of Prussia must be added that whicli in England is considered fit only for cats and dogs — viz. horse- flesh {Pferdfleisch) ; but which in Germany constitutes a pro- portion of the meat eaten by the poorer classes. Philo- sophically viewed, there is, of course, no reason why a fillet of pony should not be as toothsome as one of veal, and a loin of a galloway even more palatable than one of a porker — seeing that the horse is a far more dainty-feeding animal than the pig. This view of the matter, however, requires that the beasts should be alike bred speciaüy for the table, and killed, too, not only when young, but in good and sound condition. At the price of horses, however, it is obvious to common sense that no Dauer could afford to send Ins healthy colts to market to be slaughtered for food; so that the great objection to hippophagy in a country lies in the fact, that only the aged and diseased hacks—such, indeed, as are unfit for further work and are sent to our knackers — can possibly find their way to the national shambles. That this is considered likely to be the case in Rhineland, is shown by the stringent Police Regulations (quoted below),* in order to guard against the slaughtering * üßnltct Sttkgulattontf HUspecting the slaughtering of H)orses for the ^Police Ästrict of Coblen? antl lEhrcnbrcitstein. E. En confotmitij toith the^Police latus of tlje llth JFKtarch, 1850, ant) aftcr a «msttltation toith the .{Magistrates of Coblcn? antl 'EhtenbrEÜstein, ti)e follottiing ortJers are heretoüh gioen loncerning the slaughtering of horses :— § 1. Tstienj butcher brho hrishes to slaugfjtcr must tust obtain tlje permis= sion of tfjc liorjal ^Qoüce tlirection, antl he must speeifu the place of sia»glj= tering the horses, as toell as the place of selling the horse=mcat: in ortjer to obtain such, permission. IIORSEFLESU. 53 of unwholesome nags. Hencc, tliougli tlic following dis- gusting advertisement is frequently seen in the newspaper of the Rhenish capital,— dTvcäij, Saltrtf, antj s'mo&rtf Sjoröeflcöl), altuauä to it Ijatf of WLtbtx, Wltiiiätxsam, J2o. 7,— the Englishman thanks Providence that beef—and the best § 2, JEIje rjorsts intenBeB to be slaugbtereB must not onln be tealtbn, 6ut libetoise in gooB conBition. § 3. jfor ensuring tbe last=menttoneB particular, tbe borscs must first be tnspectcti by JÄr.------, of tfje Veterinäre Surgeon's Bepartment, bot!) before bcing slaugbtereB as toell as Bttring ttje slaugbtering. ©be slaugbterer must proBuce tfje attestatum of tbe preeeBing ofßcer con= cerning tljc inspectlon anB permission fot tlje sale of tbe slaugbtereB animals; anB ibtg attestatton must be laiB before tlje proper Bistrict ^Police Enspector, anB aftertoarBs fastcneB into tbe slaugbtcr=boob toitb bis vise. (See § 4.) § 4. ©be b°rse=butcbers are bount) to beep a slaugbter=boob. lljat rjas ieen paginateB Inj tfje proper Police Enspector; ant( in tijts must be enteret) tbe name of tbe Seilers, tiie Dan of tbe sale, anB trjat on tobieb eacb of lljc slaugbtereB borscs toas ItilleB, togetbu toitb a Statement of tl)e trieigi;t, anB llje attestatton of JWr.------, tbe Veterinär». Surgeon, annereB. (Jjce § 3.) § 5. STb e borsc=Jutcber is not allotocB to baue an« meat brougbt in from outsiBe trje toton toitbout llje special license of tfte Police; anti in Itfce mamter be is not to be permitteti, on am) preteit tobateber, to reteibe borse=mcat from pribate persons. Ef, botoeber, be obtain some from otber botse=buttbers, be must not onln torite it immeBiateln in Ijis slaugbtci=book, toitb all tl;e partim tulars relating tljercto, but must get permission to reeeibe it. § 6. ®b E slaugbter=boou must be sboton montbl» to tbe proper Bistrict Police Enspector; anB at cacb time of tbe eiamination of tbe selling=place bij tfje police anB sanitarn offiters, tbis boofc must Je laiB before tbcm, anB also all tbe unsolB meat pointeB out. § 7. En gcntral, tbe borse=butcbers must täte care tbat all articles in tbe selling=place be feept free ant) open, anB tbe utmost possible clcanlincss be obserbeB; for all secrcteB anB b»=laiB meat, as toell as an» sbotoing rbe sligbtest trace of corruption, toill be BestroneB at tl;e tost of tbe slaugbterer. § 8. %wq, Opposition anB ncglect of tbe orBers abobe giben, as toell as of otbers tbat man be issueB bereafter bp tbe Police Renate, toill be punisbeB toitb a fine of from 1 to 3 tbalers; anB if tbe slaugbterer be unable to pan, be toill be tmprisontB for a time, tobieb toill be in proportion to tbe amount of tbe fine, toitb consiBcration to tbe toitbüratoal of f;is license, CEoblen?, 30tb Slanuar», 1855. 3Rorjal }|3olice=Birection of ffioblen? anB lEbrcnbreitstein. ^m 54 DOMESTIC MANNEES OF TUE PRUSSIANS. beef in all tlie world, too — is still tlie staple food of liis native land, and that his countrymen have not yet sunk to such an abyss of barbarism and squalor as to get their joints from the knacker's yard, and to be able to obtain a taste of meat only by robbing tlie kennel. As regards bread, the same wretclied account must be given. In even the wealthier families, loläte bread is eaten only as cake, whilst tlie ordinary household loaf consists of a com- position that is the colour of mill-board, being several shades darker tlian our gingerbread, as heavy as over-boiled yeast- dumplings, and as sour as " turned" beer. The gentry, howerer, occasionally regale themselves with a "Milch-'' or " Wa&serbrödchen " (milk or water rolls), but such things are classed in the same dainty category as bims with us. It will be seen by the official price-list given below* that the town or baker-made varieties of the German staff of life are classified by the police, with all the pedantry of school- men, into the A, B, and C genera, whilst the country-made * ^xittSAit of Sclkvatrtf J3at«nS' WLaxtä. St Bafar ffireaeltus, HatofuI fot 14 Saus, recSoneB from lo^fian. A. mtic-breaD of G Ibs B. ß&ixets (tobite breatf) 4 „ <> j) ^ >i )> »> 1 >> C. BiRbcattn breatt Spprobrtj, Coblei^, U)c 22nti of JWatcb, 1855. Konal Police Directum of CEobUn? anti ebrenbreüsttin. ÄSt. m- Pence, engl. 10 ü 8 7 3 1 4 4 8 10 0* :.•■••■ ,'■;! '■ iki m I«, '■'.:" siih !, k 1 TAMOTJS KINDS OF BREAD. 55 black bread is subdivided into the "lower-case" a and b species. For the enlightenment, however, of those who are not quite so metaphysical as German policemen, we may State that there are three distinct kinds of Rhenish bread,—rye, wheaten, and mixed. The first constitutes what to Enfdish minds belones to the black class, the second to the white, and the third (which is merely a Compound of the other two) to the whitey-brown. Of the black species of bread there are three distinct Subjoined is the Tariff of the Mountain bread :— $oIi«--€ariff a lx\)t 2äppervCountri> >*3Srca&. Xatoful for 8 Bays, tecfconeti from to=Bar>. £sr. We 22nD .Parti, 1855. Bemal polict^Bttettton of Collen? anü eircnlreitstcin. The police regulate the maximum priee of bread, and allow bakers to make loaves at a price as much below that as they please, and hence the reason of the terra " self-rated bakers' wares." The police prices are printed at intervals in the local Journals, as well as the prices of the several kinds of com, a copy of which is appended:— 1Sreati=®ariff fvom tlt 30tl april 1856. eng. *•*• a. 4 7 51 o 2 4 2} IRonal Police 3ltrattmstt'atton. 3)unfeer. Collen?, 30 Hüttl. eng. r. * *• ». d. «ffileat (per stlefftl of 60 Ha.)...... 3 16 1 10 7| Bpe ., „ ...... 2 21 10 8 2| — 1 1 10 3 21 56 DOMESTIC MANNERS OF TnE HiUSSIANS. subdivisions:—1. The " camis-brod," or soldiers'black bread, which is mado of the coarsest rye flour with the husks inter- mixed: 2. The " oberländische boggenbeod," or upper-- country rye-bread, which is more sour and fest (solid), as the Germans call it, than— 3. The " bäckees' eoggenbrod," or ordinary bakers' rye-bread; for it is the economical proper ty of the second sort that the least bit of it " lasts" (as a German described its character to us) " a long time in the mouth." The soldiers' bread is not purchasable in the ordinary way, but the country bread is brought to the town twice or thrice a-week in small covered ox-wagons, and sohl at the corners of the streets. The mixed, or whitey-brown bread, is eaten only by the rieh; whilst it will be seen by the before-cited official document, that wheaten bread is a luxury too costly to be made into loaves for any class of German people — small halfpenny rolls alone being composed of that dainty material. Butter is a luxury seldom used to give relish to the aeid, dark-brown paste which, in Rhineland, passes by the name of bread; the "fresh" kind costing 8 gros (9| ■: Ksanmnn PBMSH^EBVi mF MANNHEIM. 59 burnt, and then handed over to thelr servants to make an infusion for the kitchen breakfast. In fact, in a true middle-class German household, the children hardly know the taste even of sugar. " Help her, indeed!" said a German lady, in reply to a re- quest for charity on behalf of a widow who had " seen better days;" "not I ! for your grand ladies who must have milk and sugar in their coffee should be taught to know what want is." (3.) MANNHEIM. As Coblenz Stands on the tongue of land at the very junction of the Mosel with the Rinne, so is Mannheim situate on the narrow Cape of marshes formed by the meeting of the river Neckar with the great German stream. It is, indeed, the City of the Confluence of the " Ober-Rhein." But the beauty which the lower " Confluentia" derives from the union of the two rivers, pouring from out their different mountain Channels, is utterly lost at Mannheim—the river scenery at that point being as flat and unpicturesque as that of Battersea, at the "eck" where the muddy Wandle trickles into the drab-coloured Thames. Nor is the architecture of Mannheim more attrac.tive than the scenery amid which it is set. The new stucco Stadt is, indeed, the civic antithesis to the quaint old tumble-down towns of Worms and Oppenheim, being closely allied in urban 60 DOMESTIC MANNEBS OF TUE TBUSSIANS. ugliness to Neuwied —the paradise of the Moravian Brothers, where the streets are cut as trim and Square as a Quaker's coat, and the town has been devised after the parallelogram primness of some " New Harmony," or " Abode of Love." The ground-plan of Mannheim, indeed, is a kind of civic chess-board, where rectangular blocks of houses stand for the " chequers," and cross-bar streets, intersecting each other at equal distances, represent the lines separating one Square patch from another. In a word, the reader has but to imagine a town laid out like a draft-board, with a palace (about as palatial in design as an Industrial School) situate at the upper end, and a Suspension bridge (fashioned after the style of our own Pont de Ilammersmitli) at the lower one; and with a broad street running up between the " chequers " from the Neckarbrücke to the Schloss, and an equally wide roadway stretching across the civic draft-board, and planted with a few stumpy trees ;* while here and there one of the chequers, as it were, is left blank, so as to serve for an open "Market Platz," or "Parade," or " Theater" ditto;-—the reader, we repeat, has but to form a mental bird's-eye view of such a town in order to have a tolerable notion of the architectural beauties of Mannheim and its principal thoroughfares. Moreover, the street nomenclature (if such a term can be applied to thoroughfares that have only initial letters and figures to mark them^, has the same uninviting air of "System" about it as the laying out of the town itself—the different blocks of residences being distinguished like policemen with us, as A 1, A 2, &c.; B 1, B 2, and so on; so that an inhabitant of the town, instead of boasting a Square, or terrace, or crescent, * This planted roadway is the only thoroughfare in Mannheim that rejoices in the singular distinction of a name — it being known as the "Planken" (Planches). MANNHEIM. 61 for his address, must content himself with a simple letter and number—as if lie were living in a "pigeon-hole" for papers rather than in a human habitation. For instance: a townsman will teil you that he resides at Q 1, 16 ; which means, not that he lodges at No. 16 in Q 1 street (there being, as wo said, no names at all given to the streets — the Square clumps of buildings being christened instead), but simply that he is to be found at the 16th house in the first block of dwellings along the row marked Q; a State of things that would assuredly drive an English postman mad. The blocks of houses here spoken of are each about a hundred yards Square, and almost all built in the baldest Italian style, with eaves projecting as far forward as a French cap-peak, and the broad acres of walls unbroken by the least attempt at Ornament; while every window is fitted with venetian- blinds, that are painted the same colour as the houses them- selves; that is to say, either drab, or olive-green, or light pickled salmon, or pale nankeen colour: so that it does not require a very lively Imagination to conceive the degree of ugliness that must prevail in an entire town built upon such tasty principles. The public buildings, too — like the Kaufhaus and the Stadthaus in the open Platzes — all appear to partake of the clumsiness of the telescopic cupola-style of our own Horse Guards; while the Jesuiten Kirche (Jesuits' Church), which is considered to be the most remarkable edifice in the town (you can see it in the engraving, with its huge pepper-castor- like dorne and bulbous-tipped towers peeping above the trees by the river side), is in the same heavy dustman's-bell-like order as the other structures; and though fitted up inside with white marble and gold, is oppressive rather than imposing with the massiveness of its decorations. The Palace, inoreover, has not an architectural grace to 62 DOMESTIC MANNEKS OF THE PKÜSSIAXS. recommend it to the eye, being merely one long, ungainly, barrack-like building (indeed, a wing of it forms the quarters of the Baden cavalry), with so-called " gardens " at its rear, extending to the river side; though the said gardens are little better than a mangey coppice, and certainly not equal in beauty or neatness to the humblest of our parks. Mannheim, however, is but a mere mushroom city—a Stadt that can trace its bricks and mortar back no farther than the 17th Century; for it was founded in 1606 by Frederick IV. Elector-Palatine of Germany, who built a Castle near the mouth of the Neckar. But this, together with the first mural attempts at a city, was rased to the ground long before the rooks had time to build their nests in the sapling elms around the Royal Residenz. The town was afterwards rebuilt and strongly fortified by the Elector Charles Philip; but the fortifications intended for its defence were the cause of its being repeatedly besieged, and convcrted either into a mass of cinders, or levelled with the dust, at frequent and regulär intervals. Indeed, during the religious wars, the city had to be twice rebuilt within a Century. The story runs that the French Commander, who in 1689 caused the placed to surrender, summoned the people immediately after his entry into the city, and told them that his master, Louis XIV., had given strict orders that the town should be reduced to a rubbish-heap. However, he added, that as a mark of special favour, he would allow them twenty days to rase their houses to the ground themselves, But the townspeople wanted the heart to destroy their own dwellings; accordingly, at the expiration of the term, the General summoned his soldiers to execute the work, and they having driven out the lingering inhabitants, fired all the houses and MANNHEIM. 63 churches, and left not one stone of the ramparts standing on another. In the year 1794, the city was again bombarded by the French, and once more in 1795 by the Austrians, when only fourteen houses remained uninjured. In fact, from the very first moment of the fortifications having been constructed, Mannheim became the seat of continual warfare; but since its ramparts have been removed, it has been changed into a place of such special security, that it has risen to be one of the principal merchant-towns of the Upper Rhine, with harbours and railways on both sides of the river, and with a bevy of English residents pervading the domiciliary " blocks" from A 1 down to T 4. Goethe styles it the " friendly, cleanly Mannheim;" and it must be admitted, that though the place has no picturesque advantages, it has social comforts that, in a Rhenish town, are sufficient compensation for its want of beauty; for (pro- digy of German "progress!") it has actually "trottoirs" and streets without an open sewer meandering down the middle of them. It boasts a theatre, too, that has long ranked as one of the best in the south of Germany; for it was liere that Schiller's play of " the Robbers " was produced under bis own direction in 1782—the author having resided on the Parade Platz, in the house called "zum Karlsberg;'''' and it was in one of the dwellings opposite the principal entrance to the theatre that Kotzebue, the author of "the Stranger," was assassinated by the mad student Sand. With this brief catalogue, however, end all the points of interest in connexion with the " friendly, cleanly" (and any- thing but pretty) Mannheim. 64 DOMESTIC MANNERS OF THE PEUSSIANS. § 2. Tue Rhenish "Vin Ordinaire" — Cooking — Dinners — and mannees at table. Of the first-class German wines tliere is no occasion to speak here, the subject having been exhausted by Cyrus Redding and others. Of the ordinary " Tiseli-weinP or table-wine, however— tho German vin ordinaire, and the national equivalent of our porter — we feel bound to add a few words of honest abuse. The Rhenish wines (unless of the very first class) are no great favourites of ours ; for though we have certainly drunk at the vineyards of Rüdesheim, and Johannisberg, and Steinberg, and Hochheim, some marvellously fine "tipple"—rieh with all the perfume of the choieest grapes, and glowing and exhilarating as the very sunbeams that ripened the fruit—we never yet tasted a glass of the second-class " Rhein-wein " that was worthy of being ranked above our white-wine vinegar.* Indeed we are satisfied that if your " Zekingers " and " fiesporters," " Stiegers," Niersteiners, &c., were only sent to table in cruets instead of wine-bottles, English people would no more think of indulging in them than they would dream of drinking off the Contents of a pickle-jar. For if we be desirous of testing chemically whether the liquid in the bottles at a German table dl tote belong really to the vinous or acetous class, we have merely to provide ourselves with a small packet * The price of ordinary " Tiach-wein " is about 5 gros (6d.) the bottle. It may certainly be had as low as 4 gros, on the one band, but at that price it is sad, dysenteric stuff; and on the other band, as high as 10 or 12 gros the bottle — though the latter can hardly be classed as '' vin ordinaire" The red wine, as a rule, is rather dearer than the white. Tisch-viine, if bought by the "fass" (barrel) of 180 bottles, eosts from 5 to 0 thalers (15*. to 18*. English). Apfelwein (eider) may be had from 2 to 2J gros (2\d. to 3d.) the bottle. KHENISH WINES. 65 of carbonate of soda, and note the violent effervescer.ee that ensues, immediately the alkali is added to the " sour stuff," as well as the quantity of the alkaline carbonate that it is neces- sary to use before the effervescence ceases — or, in other words, before the integrant aeid is entirely neutralised in the so-called wine. This, to those who know anything on the subjeet, will indubitably prove that they are tippling under the name of " Tisch-ivein" a mild verjuice, rather than hock—a kind of vinous lemonade—a liquid that, like tea, certainly cannot be said to "inebriate," but which, unlike it, cannot be said to "cheer" either—a pickle that may be excellent for young ladies who wish to thin themselves, but which is sad stomach- achey wash to gentlemen who like anything more generous than a gargle with their dinner. The fact is, the vineyards of Germany lie at the very verge of the ivine-making countries. It is well known to geographers, that there are not only " snow-lines " and " heat- lines" belting the earth, but distinet zones of land for the growth of a certain kind of fruit, or a particular sort of vege- table, grain, or flower ; and as on ascending a tropical mountain the traveller passes thermally through the several climates of the globe, from the equator to the pole, even so he traverses, at the same time, horticulturaUy and floriculturally, through distinet belts of fruits and flowers, the same as if he were journeying along the world rather than above it. " In order to obtain a potable wine," says Humboldt in his Kosmos (and the epithet, potable, should be well impressed on the reader's mind), " it is requisite that the mean annual temperature should exceed 49° Fahrenheit, and that the winter temperature should not be lower than 33°, whilst that of the sammer months should .exceed 64° : " for " in the plains of the Baltic," he teils us, " where a wine is produced that can scarcely be called potable, the mean annual heat is 47° 5', that of the VOL. II. F 66 DOMESTIC MANNEBS OF THE PEUSSIANS. winter 31°, and summer 63°;" whilst in the rieh wine district of Bordeaux, he says, " the mean annual heat is 57°, that of the winter not lower than 43°, and of the summer as high as 71-0°." At Frankfort and Heidelberg, however, the mean temper- ature for the entire year is, aecording to the table publislied by the same eminent authority, 49° 5' respectively; and that for the winter months as low as between 33° and 34°, whilst for the summer it seems to be, after a long series of observations, only a fraction above 64°.* Hence it will be pereeived, that * "The following table," says the author of "Kosmos," (vol. i. p. 30, Bohn's Edition,) "illustrates the eultivation of the vine in Europe, and also the depreciation of its produce aecording to climatic relations. Cherbourg and Ireland show in the most remarkable manner how, with thermal relations very nearly similar to those prevailing in the interior of the Continent, the results are nevertheless extremely different as regards the ripeness orunripeness of the fruit." TABLE SHOWING THE LATITUDES AND CLIMATIC RELATIONS OF THE ÜNDER- MENTIONED WINE-GROWING AND NON-WINE-GROTv'ING COUNTRIES. Bordeaux.......... Strasbourg ........ Heidelberg........ Mannheim ........ Cherbourg ........ Wurzberg.......... Franktbrt-on-Maiiie Berlin ............ Dublin............ 44" 50' 48 35 49 24 49 29 49 39 49 48 50 7 52 31 53 23 251 479'( 333-; 3001 01 562-J 388'; 102-f 01 6 57- 0 49' 5 49' 5 50' 0 52- 5 50- 5 49 3 47- •o 49' 430 34-5 34-0 34'6 41'5 35-5 33 3 31 0 40-2 63 6 59-6 10 35 20 12 3 27 19 23 13 The above table proves that the produetion of " potable wine" does not depend on latitude; since Cherbourg, whose latitude is only 49° 39', does not produce wine, whilst Frankfort does, thougli its latitude is but 50° 7'. Coblenz, again, is about the latitude of Plymouth, 50° 22', whilst Mayence is nearly upon the parallel of the Lizard in Comwall, 49° 57'; and all the best wines of Germany are grown between these places — that is to say, either on the Rhine or its tributary rivers. None of the better wines of France, however, are grown so far north. Nor does the produetion of a potable wine depend on the mean annual tem- EHENISH AVINES. 67 tlie wine-growing districts of the Rinne are, thermally, but one degree superior to those of the Baltic, wliere the juice obtained from the grapes is said to lie at the very extreme of potability, or, more graphically speaking—on the verge of verjuice. The consequence is, that though the vineyards in the sunniest situations on the banks of the Rhine may produce good wine in warm seasons, nevertheless, in milder years, it is obvious, that the grapes, in those Weingartens which have a less directly southern aspect, and lipon which the noonday rays fall obliquely rather than " füll butt," cannot be ripened sufficiently for the juice to be " potable " by really educated palates; or, indeed, for the liquor yielded by them to have the faintest vinous quality.* perature of different localities, since the average yearly hcat of Cherbourg is 52° 1', and Frankfort only 49° 5'. Neither is it regulated by tbe mean autumnal temperature, that of Cherbourg being 54° 3', and that of Frankfort 49° 4'. The heat of summer, indeed, appears to be the main circumstance ; for the above table shows, that when the summer heat is below 70° the wine has a " hock" character, and when below 64° it is barely " potable," whilst below 63° no wine at all is produced. " A hot year, with occasional showers, gives better grapes than a hot dry year. The best wine of the present Century was produced under great summer-heat, as well as in connexion with frerpient thunder-showers, which moistened the earth almost every night. A moderate and a bad year for the Rhenish vintage is the result not only of a low degree of summer temperature, but of the untimely advent of the hot and rainy days. Tlius the year 1848 was not particularly hot, but the weather was warm at the time of the blooming; this afterwards changed to fine light showery rains, whilst at the time of the ripening the season became warm again ; so that the result was a good year. The weather for a good vintage should be hot in June, in July hot with thunder- showers, in August the same, and in September warm and dry."— Observa- tions on the Growth of the Vine, kindly furnished by Dr. Wirtgen, the celcbrated botanist of Coblenz. * The Rhenish vineyards are mostly situate on the southern slope of the mountains, or in such a position that they may be exposed to the beams of the sun during the greater part of the day ; but only in the best situations, and under the Screening of the neighbouring mountains, even with afull southern exposure, can any wine be produced at more than 500 feet above the Rhine. Generally speaking, it is unusual in Rhineland to plant vineyards in plains, because in such ¥ 2 68 DOMESTIC MA.NNEES OF THE riiUSSIANS. To make wine from grapes, it is necessary tliat a certain amount of saccharine matter should be developecl in the fruit by the action of the sun's rays; and this saccharine matter (which, when duly fermented, serves alone to form the wine) certainly does not possess the property of effervescing upon the addition of alkaline carbonates: indeed the best Rhenish wines, of the best vintages, are known to contain an unusually small amount of acetic acid. But because in warm years the sunniest vineyards of the Rheingau are able to produce a wine that is not vinegar, it assuredly does not follow tliat every petty vine-garden which is exposed to the south-east or south-west, rather than looking directly southward, and on which the noontide rays therefore can fall only slantingly at best, is able to yield, year after year,—even though the climate has thermally been barely equal to that of the Baltic plains — a jnice more vinous, or more generous, than that which could be expressed from un- ripe cranborries. This, indeed, constitutes the great fallacy concerning the Rhenish wines : because the climate is occasionally hot enough for the vineyards of Johannisberg, and Steinberg, and Rüdes- heim, to produce good wine, about once in three years;* a position the influence of the sunbeams is found to be too weak, and the soil too cold. The celebrated vineyard at Worms, however, which produces the renowned wine called " Liebfrauenmilch," is a notable exception to the rule; for there the vines grow almost in a meadow. Gradually-sloping hüls are prefer- able ; and it is found that the best wine comes from the plants in the middle of the slope—those at the upper and lower part of the hill yielding a wine of more or less inferior quality. * It is estimated, that in the course of ten years' vintages there is generally 1 very good year. 2 good, or " pretty good" years. 3 moderate years. 3 bad years, and 1 failure ; EÜENISH WINKS. 69 therefore people are gulled into thc belief that tho bleak mountain patches on the banks of the Mosel and the Rhine, as far down as Bonn, are capable of doing the like every year, even thougli tlie grapes be as hard and rough as bullaces to tbe palate, and contain no more saccharine tlian sorrel. * so that only one year's yield in ten can really be said to produce excellent wine, whilst very nearly half the years are acknowledged to produce lad wine. In the present Century, The very good years were, 1811, 1822, 1834, 1846 ; or only 4 in upwards of half a Century. The good years were, 1810, 1825, 182G, 1828, 1831, 1839, 1842, and 1848; or 8 in 56 years. The "pretty good" years were, 1815, 1818, 1836, 1853 ; or 4 in 56 years. The bad years, 1816,1817,1821, 1823, 1829, 1843, 1844, 1849, 1850, 1851, 1854 ; or 11 in 56 years. The years not particularized were merely "moderate" ones. * The proportion of acid in the dirferent Rhenish wines depends upon, 1, The kind of grapes ; and 2, The higher or lower degree of ripeness. All grapes become sweet in very good years. The better the sort, the more favourable the Situation, and the hotter thc summer—the sweeter and rieher of alcohol the wine becomes. The Eeesling grape is considered to yield the best wine with the finest aroma. But many vintners cultivate also a large quantity of the Kleinberger, Sylvaner, or some other kindr of second-rate grapes, to mix with the better kind. In the Rheinpfalz, the Traminer grape is largely cultivated, and yields a pretty good wine called "Forster Traminer;" but though the Traminer ripens early, and possesses great sweetness, it has little perfume or "bouquet" connected with it : besides, this plant is more tender, being incapable of bearing the same low temperature as the Reesling and Kleinberger. The Sylvaner grape produces a fine sweet wine, with considerable aroma, being indeed the kind of fruit from which the celebrated Johannisberger is obtained ; but as this species contains a large quantity of mueilage, it is not so easily pressed. Good white-grape vines, however,*hre sometimes grown successfully (as at Johannisberg) in a " heavy and fat" Urne soil; but, as a rule, the white grape requires a lighter soil than the red, which thrives best in clayey ground. Clay slate, of which the Rhine rocks are composed, has an excellent influence on the growth of the vines ; not only beeause it absorbs and retains the heat of the noonday sun, as well as the moisture of the atmosphere, but on account of its containing a large amount of potassium, which, as it decomposes and enters into the soil, is found to be most beneficial to the plant. 70 DOMESTIC MANNEKS OF THE PRUSSIANS. Such is assuredly the cliaracter of the berries from which the ordinary Tisch-wein of Germany is produced; and those who are simple enougli to believe that they are bibbing a kind of mild hock, rather than dilute acetic acid, at the Bhenish The expenses of a German vineyard a:e as follows per Morgen, or Prussian acre (= H English acre) :—- I. Original Outi.ay upon a Vineyard — per Morgen. Cost of an acre of "vineland," calculated to grow from 3000 to 3300 plants .............. Rent for five years tili tlie plants are fit for bearing N.B. If the soil be not prepared for vine culture, the cost of the land would be less than the above ; but then the expenses of the first planting would be proportionately greater. Planting of the vines ("das Setzen") costs on an average per Morgen 50 cart-loads of manure for the young plants, with cost of carting and carrying Tending and rearing of the young plants (pruning, digging, and binding) for 4 years, at 22s. per year Cost of 3008 poles, at l'J. each Land-tax for 5 years, at 4s. Of/J. per Morgen, per annum Gross outlay II. Anxual Expense of a Vineyard — per Morgen. Planting of Single plants to keep the rows füll Manuring, with stable-manure and bone-dust alternately every 4 years, in addition to the regulär manure for the vines Cost of pruning the vines Repair and renewal of poles .. Sticking the poles Willow-twigs and tying Digging the ground twice Binding up and trinmiing Gathering and pressing Casks and tubs Reut of cellars, &c. Land-tax 105 5 Gross annual expense 3 18 0 7 19 6 t 8 0 5 0 0 1 0 3 142 10 9 £ s. <1. 0 3 9 1 1 9 0 9 0 0 15 3 0 3 M 0 8 3| 0 10 0 0 10 0 0 15 0 0 15 0 0 15 0 0 4 0ä 6 10 3 KHENISH WINES. 71 tables d'hote, should resort to the uncrrmg test we liave before laid down, when they will assuredly be appalled at the amonnt of grape-pickle they are swallowing under the name of " a nice light German wine;" for thus analysed, even Such a vineyard will continue bearing for 20 years, on an average, before the plants require renewing. The wages of the labourers vary from 9d. to lg. per diem without food, and are 6öf. a-day with food ; women and girls get a groschen or two less. Tn the autumn, the "carriers" are paid about 9d. a-day, and the "gleaners" 5d., with board and lodging. The common press for the wine costs from 111. to 12/. Five Beschaffen (porters' loads of about 20 gallons each) of good, ripe, and juicy grapes, and seven Beschaffen of poorer ones, will yield an Ohm (30 galls.) of wine. Gallons Eng. 196 265 1 338f 446ä 162 The average yearly yield of one morgen of vineland (on the Lower Mosel, Winnigen district) in the course of fifteen years, was The yield increased in the good years, viz. i— In 1846, to .............. 1839, to .............. 1834, to .............. In the bad years, however, the yield decreased, so that the vintages of 1829, 1830, 1837, yielded scarcely anything. In the Ahr the average annual yield for forty-eight years was not quite In the poor upperlands of the same district the average yield per Morgen for white wine was And for red wine The mean price of the wine in the Lower Mosel, taking an average for 40 years (1816-1855) was per 18 galls. Hence the average money-yield for a Morgen of vineland was And deducting from this the average annual expense of cultivating the same extent of vineland (see above) Leaves as profit to the cultivator of each Morgen a surplus of TheTrester, or " husks," that remain after the pressing, amount to about one quarter of the entire quantity of the grapes, and these are sold to make brandy, ■ and generali)' produce sufficient to pay the cost of using the presses. But there is still to be added to the annual expenses the cost of the " must tax" (Most-steuer), as well as the rent of the Morgen of land, and interest on the capital invested. The vine culture, therefore, can be profitable only to the vintner who keeps a 351 234 £ s. d. 0 13 J ä 7 3 4i 6 10 3 0 13 li 72 DOMESTIC MANNEES OF TUE TEDSSIANS. the " Blessed Virgin's Milk " itself will be found to be turned, and the " Dragon's Blood" to be sour enough to curdle every drop of one's own: so that after a time the simple opening of a bottle of the far-famed Zeltinger will be suf- ficient, to the knowing, to fill the mouth with water, like the cutting of a lemon; and a mere thimble-full of Braune- berger enough to set the teeth on edge like the sharpening of a saw. Now Germans delight in "Essig" —their very children loving sours as much as ours do sweets. Indeed we knew a little Rhenish girl of two years old who made wry faces at sugar - stuff, and smacked her tiny lips over pickles; and, moreover, a servant-girl whom we brought with us to England hegan to fall ill, after a short time, for want of the national sharp sauces and the congenial dash of sour stuff with her food. To such palates, therefore, the produets of the acetous fermentation are naturally more agreeable than stock of cattle sufficient to supply him with manure, as well as uses the young plantations to eultivate beet-root and beans, or some kind of fodder for his cattle, or food for himself and family. The wealtbier vintners, however, generally obtain a better price than that above given for their produce, owing, not only to the more careful eultivation of the vines, but to the fact of their having better land, as well as being able to avail themselves of every circumstance that may add to the value of their produce. In the Rheingau and in the Ahr, the vineyards are mostly in the possession of large and rieh proprietors. On the Mittelrhein and Mosel, however, they generally belong to, or are worked by, small peasants. The latter are mostly in a very distressed condition, being too poor to speculate on the results of the harvest, as the rieh proprietors do; so that the returns of the vintage often do not Cover the cost of produetion, and an indescribable amount of misery frequently pre- vails among the class. When the vineyard is let to a peasant, the proprietor generally bears the expense of all large buildings, and contributes 1*. 9d. per hundred plants towards the expense of manuring. For this he mostly takes' a certain share of the grapes, and has the right of choosing the vessels in which they are kept. The above information has been kindly furnished by Dr. Wirtgen of Coblenz, and Dr. Arnoldi of Winnigen. PEUSSUN BEER. 73 those of tlie vinous, so that what is positive vinegar to us becomes to their tastes absolute wine. There are, however, soino peculiar "bowls" or "cups" populär in Rhineland, whieh, for the sake of completeness, deserve some mention. The vin ordinaire or " Tisch-wein" of Germany, being, as we have said, as sour and as mild in its exhilarating qualities as our stalest table-beer, the Prussians, love to neutralisc, or rather disguise its acid by sugar, and to give flavour to it, as they do to their tasteless viands, by the addition of all kinds of fruit. Of the drink called " maiwein" we have already spoken in another place, and no sooner is the month passed after which the potion is christened, and strawberries have made their ap- pearance, than the beverage termed "cardinal" becomes populär at the casino and wine-houses. This is made up of wine and sugar and the little "fraises des quatres Saisons" that are styled " earth-berries '' by the Germans, and wild strawberries by us — the fruit being steeped in the " Zeltinger" or " Piesporter" for a considerable time before the potion is quaffed and the infusion served, like the mahvein at the wine-gardens, in handleless Hass mucrs imitative of small barreis. Indeed it is the custom to soak all kinds of fruit in the sweetened Rhenish Sliced oranges, preserved apricots, grape blossoms, wmes. young filberts, &c. &c. are severally used according to the season; and many of these, it must be confessed, serve to make the sour stuffs (that in England would be added only to gherkins and walnuts) about as palatable drinks in hot weather as our raspberry vinegar. The beer of Germany, to throats that have been accus- tomed to English Burton and London porter, is but wretched physicky wash, costing about threepence halfpenny a quart, and tasting so strongly of dandelion instead of hops, that a true-born Briton enjoys it about as much as he would a 74 DOMESTIC MANNEKS OF THE HRUSSIANS. course of taraxacum tea ; and on Üie banks of tlie Rinne may be secn whole fields füll of tlie bitter weed growing as tliick as our clover. The Rhenish cooking is the worthy counterpart of the Rhenish meat. ¥e know not whether the custom arises from a sense of the antiquity of the oxen used as food, or from a vulgär belief in the nutritive qualites of soup, and a desire to obtain two dishes out of one piece of " fiesh;" but not a Joint—even though it be but a few pounds weight—ever coraes to a Prussian table that has not been boiled for some five hours, and then baked for one—the pot liquor being served up at dinner and supper as potage, and the remaining mass of baked, stringy fibres, dignified by the name of roast meat (Braten). Of course it is idle to teil the reader, whose palate can distinguish a decoction of burnt acorns from that of roasted coffee, that by the Prussian culinary process the entire Juices and flavour of the food have been extracted as per- fectly as if the Joint had been submitted to a chemical Operation — for such the cooking really is; while the Juices themselves, by being diluted with water, have not only lost all their savoury character, but have actually been deprived of their nutritive property: for the experiments of Magendie long ago proved to the thinking world, that soup is incapable of sustaining the life of a dog—a hound fed upon it sickening in a week and dying in ten days. There is an old story which says, that if a person be blind- folded it is impossible to distinguish port from sherry, when sipped one after another. Nevertheless, with the eyes wide open, and the palate scrutinising every morsel that is put into the mouth, we will defy the keenest English taste to teil whether they are eating Prussian beef, or veal, or chicken, RHENISH COOKING----VEGETABLES. 75 or duck, or partridge—for all, whether flesli or fowl, are put into the earthen pot alike, to wabble the entire Juices and llavour out of them on the stove, and then placed in a tin pan to be dried up and soddened in tlie steam of a close oven —open fires being known only at the palace in Coblenz. Now the consequence of this barbarous mode of cooking is, that in order to give something like flavour to the tasteless mass of string to which the meat is reduced, it has to be eaten witli fruit instead of vegetables; so that it is not at all unusual, in Rhenish Prussia, to be served with boiled beef and ehernes, —pigeons and hot boiled strawberries—pork and oranges—■ tongue and currants—veal and stewed prnnes — and, indeed, an infinity of such messes as positively nauseate an English stomach to think of, much more to see and taste. The vegetables, again, are as badly treated as the viands themselves. Green peas are often boiled and eaten in the shells, though we in England consider the pods fit only for pigs; and even when the peas alone are cooked in Deutschland, they are stewed in butter and sugar. Then, new potatoes are boiled and dished up with caraway seeds — the wiseacre pro- fessors declaring they do this to keep away the cholcra; and to bring the matter to a fitting climax, the rotten aeid cabbage, known by the narne of " Sauer-Jcraut," is eaten with wine, and when mixed with " Champagne,'' it is " sehr delicat," say the Prussian polypes — creatures of mere stomach without either palate or brain to direct it.* * The price of potatoes is about 3s. for 110 lbs., which is at the rate of 3 lbs. for a penny. Cabbages average from 10 to 15 gros (ls. to ls. 6d.) the hundred plants. Carrots (which are sold by weight) are about the same price as potatoes, whilst turnips cost 4 gros (5ä. ) for a large basketful, holding about 3 English bunches, and peas fetch about 3 gros (3^d.) the half-peck. The Rheniah vegetables, however, are poor dwarfed things in comparison with oui' own. Fruit is even cheaper than the " green stufF." Peaches may be had at the 76 DOMESTIC MANNERS OF THE PRUSSIANS. The mention of " Sauer-kraut " reminds us that almost every eatable in Prussia is acid, for even the hares are stuffed with onions and baked in vinegar; and in a true Rhenish house you get sour soup (made out of sorrel)—■ sour bread, (a black Compound that would create a riot in an English workhouse)—sour cabbage—sour jams (for the fruits are pickled before the sugar is added)—sour wines—and even sour treacle. Now the experiments of Dr. Stevens during the cholera have proven that acids have the effect of blackening the blood, and you can positively sec in every Prussian's face that the fluid which trickles through his capillaries has been rendered muddy by the quantity of sour things he is accustomed to swallow. The mode of serving the dinner, even in the most refined establishments, consists in cutting up every one of the viands on a chopping-board at a side-table. Here each Joint or bird is removed from the dish on which it is brought into the " Speisesaal," and having been placed on the bare block is carved, one after another, without the least cleansing of the wood — boiled becf, wild duck, roast veal, chickens, pork, hare, &c. —■ no matter how dissimilar the character of the food. Nor have even the most fashionable people yet learnt to look for a change of knives with every change of dish — the same being kept for fish, flesh, fowl, and (even though the stews reek of garlic) the one " Messer " retained and used for the pudding. rate of \d. for 2 dozen. Cherries cost \d. to Id. per Ib. Apples are 20 gros ( 2s.) for 50 lbs. Gooseberries, 1 penny the pound. Grapes, \d- to 2\d. the Ib. Wild strawberries, 2d. the plateful. Plums, ^d. to 2d. the hundred. Walnuts, lid. to 3J. the hundred. Pears are the same priee as apples : currants as strawberries, and chestnuts as walnuts. Almost all the fruit, however, is deficient in flavour. GERMAN DINNERS. 77 The Prussians, like most savage tribes, are continually eating; not that their gastric capacities amount to those of the Samoiedes, who are said to consume teil pomids of food besides a dozen tallow-candles in a day; but their meals recur at such short intervals that they seem to find their chief delight in feeding every two or three liours. As our cook- maids, when they go to the theatre, usually take a basket of provisions with them and munch now a piece of cold pudding, and now an apple, while they whimper over the sorrows of " the heroine of the domestic drama;" so a Prussian lady never attends a " Grosses Concert " in a public wine-garden, or a village " Schützenfest," (shooting-feast,) but what she must have her raw sausages or her hard-boiled eggs as re- freshment there, even though it be but a couple of hours after dinner. Early in the morning there is the "Frühstück," (literally, the early bit, or, in piain English, breakfast,) and this con- sists of a cup of so-called coffee and a slice or two of black bread. Then at ten o'clock comes another coffee-drinking — " Zehn-ure, essen" — at which more black (or among richer folks, whitey-brown) bread is eaten. At twelve or one follows the dinner, which at the tables oVhote consists of the same eternal dishes: Ist course, soup. 2nd, boiled beef. 3rd, cutlets, sausages, and sauer-kraut. 4th, fish and pudding. 5th, roast meat, birds, preserves, and salad. 6th, dessert, coffee, cards, and cigars. Go where you will, you are sure to get the same invariable messes—the same bouilli with the same sauce—the same ever- lasting sponge-cake pudding—the same breaded cutlets—the 78 DOMESIIC MANNERS OF THE TKUSSIANS. same roast veal and fruit, until you cannot bear the look of tlie disgusting medley.* Family dinners are not, of course, so lavish as those at tlie liotels; tmt generally, in the houses of well-to-do people, these consist of (1), soup; (2), bouilli; (3), sausages and vegetables; (4), kalbfieische and compöte; whilst the pro- fessors' families put up witb soup and boiled beef only, and those of the very poor people have horse-meat instead of rind- fleische for their animal food. Four o'clock is the hour for the " coffee-drinking;" and of this meal sausages or hard-boiled eggs are often the aecom- paniments. At the Kermes at Gülz, on the Mosel, we saw the wife of an officer and (we suppose we must add) a gen- tleman, eat no less than four eggs as hard as we give to our canaries, besides a large hunk of Göttinger-ivurst, and a big wedge of cake—in addition to a " portzi-ohn'' (portion, so pro- nounced) of coffee, and a glass mugful of " Maiwein" at a little after thrce one Sunday afternoon. Lastly, at eight o'clock, oecurs tiie " Abend-essen," or supper, for which some of the lucky few who are blest with a sufficiency of groschens have a second edition of dinner, * It is but just to except here the "Hotel de Treves," at Coblenz, the " Hof von Holland," in Cologne, and the " Goldenen Stern" at Bonn, where the best cooking throughout Rhenish Prussia is to be founcl. The price charged for dinner at the best tables d'hdte is 25 gros (2s Cd.) per head, including a pint of tolerable Tisch-weln. At the taverns, equivalent to our commercial inns, the Charge for dining at the table d'höte is 15 gros (ls. Gd. English). At the " Restaurations" the viands are sold by the plate, or " portion,"—mutton costing Id. the portion and beef the same, whilst a small supply of ham may be had for Id. Soup, again, is Id. the plate, and coffee Id. the cup. At one of the suburban gardens our children and their maid had tea for 5d. (or Id. per head), which included coffee, sugar, milk, butter, &c. We remember an English gentleman giving a dinner to two others at one of the prineipal restaurations, the whole expense of which did not amount to ls., even though three courses were partaken of by the host and his guests. MANNEBS AT TABLE. 79 even down to bot pudding—on which they sleep. Others, of more limited means, content themselves with soup and bouilli only; and others, of still humbler resources, with merely a bowlful of baked potatoes and black bread. Such is, we conscientiously believe, a fair and unexagge- rated statement of the food partaken of by the middlc classes of ßhenish Prussia. We now come in due course to speak of the habits of the Prussians at table. Foreigners, generally speaking—even those belonging to "the politest nation in the w~orld"—seem to be less refined in their conduct while feeding than the pair of Chimpanzees that daily dined in public at our Regent's Park Zoological Gardens. It is no unusual sight to see a Parisian dandy, while waiting for his soup at a restaurant, clean his nails with bis fork, or use the same implement as a tooth-pick. But if Parisians exhibit little delicacy of feeling at their meals, Prussian ladies as well as gentlemen positively appal you, as well as deprive you of all appetite for your dinner, by their barbarous mode of feeding. The knife is not only used as a spoon, wherewith to scrape up the last drop of gravy from the plate, by even the elite of Rhenish society, but thrust half down the throat by ladies who affect the fancied elegance of white kid gloves. So little skilled, indeed, are the people in the use of a four-pronged silver fork, that the wife of a member of the learned profes- sions assured us she preferred the old-fashioned two-pronged instrument; and when we remonstrated, by reminding her that it was impossible to eat peas with a miniature pitchfork, she replied that she "could do that quite well enough with her knife." 80 DOMESTIC MANNEKS OF THE PKUSSIANS. The story is told of Beau Brummel, that he once iriade Ins appearance in deep mourning, and on being questioned as to the reason, he informed the inqnirer that he was in black f'or his father. " Deai- nie!" said his friend, " how terribly sudden ! I saw Mr. Brummel only yesterday." " Yes," re- turned the beau, with affected grief, " and I dined with him last night myself; but vvhen I left him to go to the play, he was busily engaged eating peas with his knife, and so I naturally conclude the poor man has cut Ins throat by this time." If, however, Prussian ladies have yet to learn the use of the silver f'ork, they are certainly not a whit more skilful or elegant in handling their knives, for they grasp the blade rather than the handle, and cut up their meat with about the same grace as our ploughmen hack at their hunks of bread and bacon with their clasp-knives. The approved mode of proceeding at dinner-—even with the Prussian exquisites — is to thrust the fork into the meat upon the plate, and pinning it there as with a stiletto, to proceed to cut it all up at once, and then to mix the frao-ments into a mash with the vegetables and sauce—the mess being eaten first with the f'ork, and the fragments at the end of the Operation duly scooped up with the knife, until every portion of the sauce is lapped from the plate: after this the plate is rubbed clean with pieces of bread, and these duly swallowed; whereupon the knife is cleaned with another bit of crust, which, in its turn, is devoured—dirt, grease, and all. Nor is the scraping process at all times resorted to; for if the dish happen to be inordinately moist, and the gravy or sauce more plentiful than usual, the more tedious Operation of eating it with the knife is dispensed with,—the plate itself being then raised to the mouth and the greasy liquid drunk from the edge of it, even to the last drop. MANNERS AT TABLE. 81 The story runs, that at an eating-house in the vilest part of London the announcement was made that, " to ensure a supply of clean plates, a Newfoundland dog was kept on the premises." At the first-class Rhenish hoteis, however, such an animal would assuredly starve—the ladies and gentlemen there doing the duty of the fabled hound with us. Now simple, inexperienced people, must not imagine that we are here stretching an isolated case into a type of the manners of an entire nation, or citing the habits of what are called "low people" as an illustration of the ways of gentle- folks. We are speaking of the behaviour of " officers and gentlemen"—of professors and the members of the learned professions — and indeed ofthose who rank everywhere as the most refined of the middle classes. Often have we seen ladies at table pour the gravy from their plates into a spoon, and thus drink off every drop of fatty moisture that remained from the meat. Even in the families of teachers, too, who are engaged in forming the habits and manners of the Prussian youth—and in whom, therefore, one would not naturally expect to find any gross violation of decorum — the dish of baked potatoes that forms the supper of the family is placed in the middle of the table, whence all present help themselves to the vegetables with their hands; and at the tables d'hote where the officers dine you will see the soi-disant " gentlemen" place themselves before the mirror after dinner, and, pulling a filthy hair-brush from their pockets, proceed to smooth their locks, whiskers, and moustachios with such ostentation, as plainly indicates that they believe they are performing a meritorious rather than an offensive act. VOL. II. 82 DOMESTIC MANNEBS OF THE PKUSSIANS. Interplittcb %\m\ itas. (4.) SPEIER. The " Kaiserdom " (Imperial Cathedral) at Speier, is one of the most notable edifices in all Germany: that of Köln (or Cologne, to adopt the French corruption of the name) is remarkable for the grace of its architecture—that of Worms, for the charm of its associations with the first " decisive hattle " of the Reformation—and that of Speier, as being the gaudiest bit of gilt plaster-work in Rhineland. The little toy Cathedral of Apollinaris-kirche at Remagen (hardly bigger than a park lodge) is, as it were, a mere painted plaything of a temple — a gewgaw model of an ecclesiastical doll's house built for some puppet saint. Still the miniature character of the shrine serves, in a measure, to sober the tawdriness of the interior down to something like barbaric prettiness. The gilt walls of the choir and nave, though gay as a harlequin's jacket with the glitter and many colours of their frescoes, belong to such a mere " bijou" of an edifice— a little thing that seems fit as an ivory man-of-war to be put under a glass-case—that they remind one more of the illuminated missals of the old monks than, as the Kaiserdom does, of the savage splendour of an Indian temple beplastered with mud, jewels, and gold. At Speier, however, the eye is dazzled to surfeit with the acres of gold-leaf and long panoramas of apotheoses in fresco covering the walls; so that what had almost the grace of a cabinet picture at Apollinaris-kirche becomes vulgär as a theatrical pageant at the Kaiserdom: and no sooner do we SPEIEE. 83 gaze upon tlie Salisbury plains of Dutch metal and stagey paintings than we are set tliinking on the wretched paltry tricks which are termed the " external aids " of the religion with which they are connected. How long, we wonder, will it be before Romanists will perceive, that if converts are to be caught like insects by glitter, the very love of the glare which allures them must ultimately destroy them also ? How long will they continue to connect with the worship of the All-Wise the same trashy pageantry as we dedicate merely to the honour of a Lord Mayor ? How long will they believe that which is an inward and spiritual grace to be nothing but an outward piece of stage effect and display ; or that the reverence of mere gewgaw can be acceptable to Hirn who taught that Solomon arrayed in all his glory was not comparable to a simple lily of the field? How long, indeed, will the great lesson of Protestantism be wasted on Papists, and priests persist in degrading Religion down to the muck and mire of the world; or in using that which should serve to wean men from earthly things and treasures, that "moth and rust corrode," as a showy snare and instrument of mere worldly power ? Scarcely a Domkirche exists in Rhineland but is half ruins, half scaffolding-poles—the choir crumbling to decay before the towers have been built—-and missionai'ies sent begging from door to door for funds to complete edißces that are tumbling to pieces at one end quicker than the money can be raised to fmish them at the other. Such is the case with the Dom at Köln; so it is, too, at Oppenheim; and a like condition qbtains at Speier. No sooner do we set foot on the planted kind of park that surrounds the Kniserdom than we hear the clink of the mason's chisel, and find the principal entrance latticed rudely G 2 nmo 84 DOMESTIC MANNEKS OF THE PHUSSIANS. over with scaffold-poles. But here the anomaly of some half- score masons chipping away at fresli blocks, in the hope of removing ono day the scaffolding from the face of the at-last- perfect edifice, strikes the visitor the more forcibly from the fact of Speier having been the site of the great " Protest" from which the Reformed creed derives its name. The mind cannot help thinking of the stolidity of the bigot priests who hope, despite such protest, to see their flashy temples once more complete in all the cunning of their ancient pomp, and who believe it to be still possible to hoodwink the world into a supcrstitious faith in the power of the veryfallible "infallible" gentleman at Home. Considered as a work of art, rather than an "external aid" to religion, the inferior of the Imperial Cathedral (though devoid of all architectural embellishment, and origin- ally depending for its effect on its simplicity and vastness, for it is nearly 450 feet long and 180 feet wide) is now so tho- roughly Germanesque in its decorations as to be, at least, curious if not pleasing.* * The exterior of the Cathedral (see engraving) has little to recommend it, except the two tall square towers at the end next the Rhine, and the semicircular choir—the sole remains of the original building. These towers are in the Byzan- tine or Romanesque style, with stunted steeples, as it were, raised on quadrilateral gables, and remind one strongly of those of the Pfarr-kirche at Andernach, or St. Castor at Coblenz ; while the rounded chancel, with its arcade-like cornice of small Romanesque arches, is much in the style of St. Gereon at Köln. At one side of the glacis-like grounds surrounding the Domkirche, and which formerly constituted the cathedral cemetery, is a curious grotto-like or rock-work mound,set onasix-sidedpedestal, as it were, and surrounded with isolated buttress- like columns, that stand at each angle of the hexagonal base. This is called the " Oehlbery" (Mount of Olives). The huge blocks of stones of which the mound is composed are carved over in places with leavesandflames,lizJrdsandserpents, &c, and piled up to a point on one side ; there being a narrow ledge-like pathway cut in the stones, and winding round the pile from the base to the top. Lying about the mound are the remains of statues, but in so headless and limbless a condition, [hat in their lorsi State it is impossible to guess to whom they refer. The guide- SPEIEE. 85 The chancel is litcrally one largo sheet of gold, and on this are painted hngc frescoes, representing the principal evcnts in thc Virgin's life, by one of the finest of the modern German masters, Jean Schraudolph. Along either side of the nave, too, and between tbe upper arches, there are frescoes depicting incidents in tbe history of the Saviour. The cnpola, again, is decorated with frescoes, on a gold gronnd, of the " Lamb books, however, assert that these truncated figures represent the sleeping disciples, and number among tliem the torso of Jesus Christ. This singular heap is said to be the remains of a chapel that was erected in 1411 in the centre of the ancient " cloister" of St. Germaüi (long since destroyed), and which was intended to represent the garden of Gethsemane and the capture of the Saviour. Near the Oehlberg is a large and rüde stone bowl, big as a baptisraal fönt, and not unlike the basin of an old dried-up and spoutless fountain. This is the ancient " Domnapf" (the cathedral bowl or cup), and formerly stood in front of the Dom, as a mark to indicate the division between the episcopal territory and that of the city. In olden times, the newly-elected bishops, after having promised to respect the Privileges of the town and the rights of the Citizens, used to have this bowl filled with wine, and the burghers drank from it to the health of the prelate. At the end of the Domkirche, towards the Rhine, Stands a tall Square tower by itself, with battlemented Corners, and seeming like one of the ancient gateways to the city. This passes by the name of the " Heiden-thurmchen " (the Heathen's Turret), and the base of it is said to be of Roman construction, it having origi- nally formed part, perhaps, of the ancient temple of Mercury, on whose site the Kaiserdom is said to have been erected. The style of the upper part of the tower, however, would indicate that it had, in the middle ages, been converted into one of the gates of the old town-walls, the remains of which may still be seen girding the cathedral, and with the little ditch-like river Speier trickling (asyou see it in the accompanying print) along one side of them. The " Antiken-halle " (Hall of Antiquities), Standing on the opposite side of the cathedral grounds to the Mount of Olives, is a small, guard-house-like build- ing, with its ancient treasures ranged under a little railed-in colonnade. Here are old fragments of once Square pillars, with the Corners chipped off, and broken capitals to columns, and noseless marble busts, and bas-reliefs, with the principal figures deprived, like Roman Miss Biffins, of hands and feet. There are also small statues in red-stone, in the Chelsea-pensioner-like, armless-and-legless style of ancient remains ; and Roman tiles and pots, besides lamps, and glass vessels, spear-heads and sword-blades, and eagles that once belonged to Roman legions, together with an infinity of architectural and archagological relics, sufficient to drive a gentleman from the Antiquarian Society, or Wardour Street, fairly out of his senses with delight. These constitute the Roman remains found in Rhenish Bavaria, ehiefiy at Rheinzabern. 86 DOMESTIC MANNERS OF THE PRUSSIANS. immolated and triumphant; " whilst at the north and south choirs (where there are more frescoes) tho subjccts chosen are, respectively, St. Bernard preaching the Crusade at Speier, and the Martyrdom of St. Stephen. These paint- ings took, even with the aid of five assistants, eight years to complete. The figures in the majority of them are larger than life, and outlincd in that peculiar, hard style, which belongs to theatrical cut-pieces and German painting. The inner walls of the Dom are painted a rieh brown colonr, thickly striped with gold, and with gilt capitals to the columns; while the roof is a bright blue, " picked out" with golden stars, On either side of the stone-canopied altar, in the centre of the transept, between the nave and the choir, are two gigantic statues—the one to the right representing Rudolph of Hapsburg seated on a green marble pedestal, with bis sword in bis band and bis helmet at bis feet; and the other to the left being the figure of Adolph of Nassau in armour, kneeling on a Byzantine sarcophagus of black marble, which rests on four winged Kons. This is by Ohmacht, and was erected by the Duke of Nassau; whilst that of Rudolph of Hapsburg is the work of Schwanthaler of Munich, and was set up by the King of Bavaria. Speier is indeed the St. Denis of Germany, where the Emperors were for many years interred. The site of the Imperial vault is still pointed out, and here once reposed the bones of no less than eight of the German monarchs; Conrad IL, Henry III., IV., and V., Philip of Suabia, Rudolph of Hapsburg, Adolph of Nassau, and Albert of Austria. The French troops, however, in 1689, set fire to the Cathedral, and broke open and plundered the Imperial vault, so that it is difficult to say to whom belong the few bones that still remain. The little outhouse-like chapel of St. Afra (a mere fragment SPE1EK. 87 of the original building) is comparatively piain, with red sandstone pillars, being ornamented with only a gold niche or shell at the end. This is a peculiarly interesting spot, from its having long • been the resting-place of the unburied body of the excommunicated Henry IV. —him who was the first royal rebel against the despotic power of the Pope, and whose toucb- ing story we read piece-meal, with all the vividness of asso- ciated scenery, as we ascend the banks of the Khine. First we see in the hedge-like walls of the ruined stronghold of Hammerstein, the mountain spot where formerly the crown and royal robes of the German Empire were kept, and where the old monarch was imprisoned by Henry V., his usurper- son, tili he consented to renounce them in the youth's favour. Again, at the Castle of Marksburg, we behold the cramped dungeon-cell in which the Emperor was previously immured, and where he used to sit hour after hour, envying the liberty of the stream below as he watched through his prison-bars the bright waters dancing in the sunbeams. Earther on, we gaze upon the rüde crumbling pile of Klopp at Bingen—another prison-house of the ill-fated, or rather ill-treated king—who, having been enticed up to Mainz by the feigned penitence of his traitor-son, had hardly clasped the rebellious boy in for- giveness to his bosom before the guards of the Papal con- spirators and bigot prelates burst into the Chamber, and tearing the imperial robes from his Shoulders, cast him fujm the throne into a cell. And here, at Speier, we witness as it were the last scene of the eventful tragedy—the crowning act of the Papal spite, wreaked even against the corpse of the heart-brokcn monarch—the wretched rotting body itself persecuted for years after the poor unhappy soul had been worried out of it! The ecclesiastic history connected with Speier is almost as interesting to English minds as that of Worms, and as we 88 DOMESTIC Ar ANNERS OF TnE TETTSSIANS. follow in the Rhenish Castles of Hammerstein, Marksburg, and Klopp, tlie several scenes in the history of the first Anti- Papal King, so with the neighbouring Rhenish cathedrals of Worms and Speier are linked the capital events of the great Protestant rising headed by the " heresiarch " monk, Martin Luther. At Worms the first act as it were of the drama of the Reformation was played, and concluded with the mere empty railing of the Emperor's Edict, placing the heretic Luther under the ban of the Empire, and forbidding all per- sons to grant him or his adherents either asylum, food, or protection.* This was mere " sound and fury, signifying * The signing of this edict was postponed tili some twenty days after Luther's defence of his doctrines, and was executed by the Emperor, after mass, at Worms Cathedral. " It was a great festival," we are told, "and Charles V. went in State to the Domkirche. When the religious ceremonies were over, and a crowd of people still thronged the sanctuary, Alexander, the Papal Nuncio, robed in all the insignia of his dignity, approached Charles V. He held in his hand two copies of the edict against Luther, one in Latin, the other in German, and, kneeling before his Imperial Majesty, entreated him to affix to them his signature and the seal of the empire. It was at the moment when the sacrifice had been offered, when the incense still filled the temple, and while the sacred chants were re-echoing through its long-drawn aisles, that the destruction of the enemy of Rome was to be sealed. The Emperor, assuming a very gracious air, took the pen and wrote his name. Alexander withdrew in triumph, immediately sent the decree to the printers, and forwarded it to every part of Christendom." It ran as follows :—■ " The Almighty having confided to us (Charles V.), for the defence of His holy faith, more kingdoms and greater authority thau He has ever given to any of our predecessors, we purpose by every means in our power to prevent our holy empire from being polluted by any heresy : " The Augustine Monk, Martin Luther, notwithstanding our exhortation,has rushed like a madman on our holy Church, and attempted to destroy it, by books overflowing with blasphemy..... In a word, not to mention his many other evil practices, this man (who is in truth not a man, but Satan himself under the form of a man, and dressed in a monk's frock,) has collected into one stinking slough all the vilest heresies of past times, and has added to them new ones of his own : " We have, therefore, dismissed from ourpresence this Luther, whom all pious :■- ■ki Üb In ■l ■fr ■Ml tu ■U ■j ihi SPEIEE. 89 nothing," and in no way respected. The Evangelical Elector, John of Saxony, however, had caused Luther to be carried off on his return from the Di'et, and concealed him in tlie Castle of Wartburg, near Eisenbach. Here, in his island of Patmos as he called it, Luther remained for a year, writing treatises against " confession," the " mass," monastic vows and priestly celibacy; and afterwards returned to Wittenberg, where he occupied himself with his translation of the Bible—a work that has done almost as much for the German language as it has for religion. In the meantime the " heresy" of the Reformation was growing on all sides, so that at length the Emperor Charles V. determined upon a visit to Rome, in order to consult with the Pope, and then to return to Germany for the purpose of restraining the unbelievers, and enforcing the Edict of Worms. and sensible men must deem a madman, or one possessed by the devil; and we enjoin, tbat on the expiration of his safe-conduct immediate recourse be had to effectual measures to check his furious rage: " For this reason, under pain of the penalties due to the crime of high treason, we forbid you (all electors, princes, prelates, and others,) to harbour the Said Luther, after the appointed term shall have expired, or to conceal him, to give him food or drink, or to furnish him, by word or deed, publicly or secretly, with any kind of succour whatever. "We enjoin you, moreover, to seize him, or cause him to be seized, wherever you may find him, to bring him before us without any delay, or to keep him in safe custody until you have learned from us in what manner you are to act towards him, and have received the reward due to your labours in so holy a work. " As for his adherents, you will apprehend them, confine them, and confiscate their property. "And as for his writings,.....you will burn them, or utterly destroy them in any other manner. "As for the authors, poets, printers, painters, buyers or sellers of placards or pictures against the Pope or the Church, you will sieze them, body and goods, and deal with them according to your good pleasure. " And if any person, whatever be his dignity, shall dare act in contradiction to the decree of our Imperial Majesty, we order him to be placed under the ban of the empire. " Let every man behave according to this decree." DOMESTIC MANNERS OF TUE rRÜSSIANS. Tho last summons, it was arranged, was to be addressed to the heretics by tlio Diet of Speier, which was to take place on the 25th June, 1526. On the opening of this Diet, the first step of the Evangelical princes, after entering the town, was " to ask," say the historians, " for a place of worship." The Bishop of Speier, Count-Palatine of the Rinne, having indignantly refused the stränge request, the princes complained of it, as an act of injustice, and ordered their ministers to preach daily in the halls of their palaces, which were immediately filled by an immense crowd from the city and the country, amounting to many thousands. In vain, on the feast-days, did Ferdinand, the ultramontane princes, and the bishops, assist in the pomps of the Roman worship in the Kaiserdom ; the simple Gospel preached in the Protestant vestibules engrossed all bearers, and the tawdry pageant of the mass was celebrated in an empty church. All the followers of the Evangelical princes in those days wore, embroidered on their right sleeves, the initials V. D. M. I. iE,, that is to say: " Verbüm Dei Manet In .ZEternum" (the Word of God endureth for ever). The same inscription might be read on the escutcheons of the Lutheran princes suspended over their hoteis. In every part of the city, too, hawkers were selling Christian pamphlets, written in Latin and in German, and ornamented with engravings, in which the errors of Rome were vigorously attacked. One of these books was entitled, " The Papacy with its Members,painted and deseribed by Doctor Luther;" and in it figured the Pope, the Cardinais, and all the religious Orders, exceeding sixty, each with their costumes and descriptions in verse. But in the interval between the summoning and assembling of the Diet, Pope Clement VII., whom Charles was about to SPEIEE. 91 visit, had, with a stränge infatuation, suddenly turned agalnst the monarcli; whereupon Charles turned as abruptly towards tlie Evangelical princes : " Let us suspend the Edict of Worms," he then wrote to his brother; " let us bring back Luther's partisans by mildness, and, by a good counsel, cause the triumph of Evangelical truth." What, then, was to be done ? The Edict of Worms could neither be repealed nor carried into execution. So stränge a predicament led of necessity to the desired Solution —Religious Liberty. " In one place," said the deputies of the cities, " the ancient ceremonies (of the Church) have been preserved; in another they have been abolished; and both parties think they are right. Let us allow every man to do as he think fit until a Council shall re-establish the desired unity of all by the Word of God." The "recess" of the Diet, dated the 27th of August, 1526, decreed, therefore, that a national free Council should be convoked within a year; that they should request the Emperor to return speedily to Germany; and that, until then, each State should behave in its own territory in such a manner as to be able to render an account to God and to the Emperor. Thus matters continued—the Reformationstill increasing, under the authority of the law as it were — until the 29th June, 1528, when a peace between the heads of the German Empire and of the Roman Church was concluded at Barcelona, based on the destruction of heresy; and in November of the same year another Diet was convoked to meet at Speier, on the 21st February, 1529. " Never did the sacerdotal party appear in the Diet, we are told, in such numbers, or so powerful and decided, as then." On the 5th March, Ferdinand, who was the President of 92 DOMESTIC MANNEBS OF TUE FRUSSIAN8. the Diet, the Dukes of Bavaria, and lastly, the archiepiscopal Electors of Mentz and Treves, entered the gates of Speier, surrounded by a numerous armed escort. On the 13th March came John the Elector of Saxony, attended only by Melancthon and Agricola. But the Lutheran Philip of Hesse, faithful to his character, entered the city on the 18th March, to the sound of trumpets, and with two thousand liorsemen. The divergence of men's minds soon became manifest. A Papist did not meet a Lutheran in the street without casting angry glances at him, and secretly threatening him with per- fidious maehinations. The Elector-Palatine passcd the Saxons without appearing to know them; and although John of Saxony was the most important of the Princes-Elector, none of the chiefs of the opposite party visited him. On the assembling of the Diet, the Papal party called for the execution of the Edict of Worms, 1521 ; and the Evan- gelical party demanded, on the contrary, the maintenance of the Edict of Speier, 1526. But the majority of the members of the Diet, rejecting the demands both of the priests and the Lutherans, came to a resolution, on the 15th of March, 1529, that " every religkms innovation should continue to be interdicted in the places where the Edict of Worms had been carried out." A declaration, however, was drawn up on the 19th April by the Elector of Saxony and his allies, and this declaration was the famous " Protest " that henceforward gave the name of "Protestant" to the renovated Church*—a protest which raised the power of the conscience above that of the ma- * This Protest was as follows : — " Dear Lords, Commons, Uncles, and Friends, ******* " We cannot consent to the repeal of the last recess of Speier (1526), because it concerns the glory of God and the salvation of our souls, and in such matters we ought to have regard above all to the commandments of God, wlio is King of SPEIEB. 93 glstrate, and the authority of the Word of God above that of a mere Church—tlie great Bill of Religious Rights as it were — the Magna Charta of the Conscienee. These memorable Diets were held at the ancient imperial palace of Speier, called Retscher (probably a corruption of " HradscJiin,'" the name of the Castle of Prague) and of whicli now only an old half-hidden wall exists by the side of the bare Methodist-chapel-likeProtestant Church in the "Enge Gasse" (Narrow Lane). Nor is the civic history of Speier less eventful than the part it has played in the ecclesiastical revolutions of the world. kings and Lord of lords, each of us rendering him account for himself, without caring the least in the world about ' majority' or ' minority.' $ * $ Hc * # $ '' Adhesion to your doctrine.....would be to act against our conscienee .....to deny our Lord Jesus Christ, to rejeet His Holy Word, and thus give Him just reason to deny us in turn before His Father, as He has threatened. " What! shall we ratify this edict ? Shall we assert that when Almighty God calls a man to His knowledge, this man cannot however reeeive the knowledge of God ? Oh! of what deadly backsüdings should we not thus become the aecom- plices, not only among our subjeets, but also among yours .' " For this reason we rejeet the yoke that is imposed upon us. "Moreover,.....seeing that there is no sure doctrine but such as is con- formable to the Word of God; that the Lord forbids the teaching of any other doctrine; that each text of the Holy Scriptures ought to be explained by other and clearer texts ; and that this holy book is in all things necessary for the Christian, easy of understanding, and calculated to scatter the darkness: we are resolved, with the grace of God, to maintain the pure and exclusive preaching of His only Word, such as it is contained in the biblical books of the Old and New Testament, without adding anything thereto that may be contrary to it. This Word is the only truth; it is the sure rule of all doctrine and of all life, and can never fail or deeeive us. " For these reasons, most dear lords, uncles, cousins, and friends, we earnestly entreat you to weigh carefully our grievances and our motives. If you do not yield to our request, we Protest, by these presents, before God, our only Creator, Preserver, Redeemer, and Saviour, and who will one day be our Judge, as well as before all men and all creatures, that we, for us and for our people, neither consent nor adhere, in any manner whatsoever, to the proposed decree in anything that is contrary to God, to His Holy Word, to our right conscienee, to the salvation of our souls, and to the last decree of Speier." 94 DOMESTIC MANNEBS OF THE PBUSSIANS. The Romans are said to liave founded the city, and when Tacitus wrote it formed one of the strongest defences as well the most splendid of all the towns on the banks of the Rhine. It was called by them "Augusta Nemehim" and " Noviomagus," but later, " Spiro,." A Roman temple to Mereury, we are told, existed on the present site of the Domkirche, and the heathen shrine was originally converted into a Christian Church by Dagobert II. Conrad IL (called the Salic) founded the present Cathedral, in 1027, as a place of burial for himself and his Imperial successors. In the time of Charlcmagne, Speier became the seat of the Germanic Diet, and the ancient Franconian and Suabian kings made it their place of residcnce, raising it to the dignity of a free city of the Empire. In 1111, Henry V. granted it the monopoly of the car- rying-trade up and down the Rhine, and it then became the centre of a flourisbing commerce. The Citizens had conferred upon them, at the same time, the riglit of destroying any baronial Castle which might be built within three miles of their gates. During the middle ages, Speier was alternately the scene of Imperial festivity within its walls, and of violent feuds and battles without—the Citizens being then as well versed in the use of arms as in the arts of trade, and battling at one time with some neighbouring town, and at another issuing forth to punish the rapacity of some feudal baron who had plun- dered their merchants on the high-road. Occasionally, too, Speier was besieged by the collective armies of the barons and cities with whom they had been at war, and though the united force against them, at one time, numbered 20,000 men, the enemy was repulsed, history teils us, by the bravery of its Citizens. SPEIEE. 95 Nor did these stniggles between the Citizens and the "robber-nobles" cease until the enaetment of the celebrated Edict abolishing the right of private warfare (Faust-recht — literally, " club-law"); and after that time the Imperial Chamber (Reichs-Kammergerichi), for enforcing the mandate, sat at Speier for upwards of 200 years. But the town was no sooner freed from the disaster of private warfare than it became the prey of foreign enemies. In the 14th Century the population of Speier, like that of Worms, was nearly 30,000, which is about threefold what it is at the present day. In the 17th Century, however, the trade and prosperity of the city began to decay; and in the year 1689 its ruin was completed by the French, during the " Mordbrenner Kreig " (Incendiary War) of the " Orleans succession.'' The town then feil into the hands of the French, who commanded the people to betake themselves, within six days, to Alsace, Lorraine, or Burgundy, and not to recross the Rinne, upon pain of death. At the expiration of the term, one of the French provosts, the story runs, entered the city, followed by forty executioners, having a gallows and a wheel, the emblems of their profession, embroidered on their dress. By these officers the people were driven out of the city by the roll of the drum, like a horde of criminals. Then, at the orders of the French Commander, Montclair, piles of com- bustibles were stacked in the houses and fired, so that the " seven-and-forty streets" of which Speier was then composed, were quickly in flames. The houses continued burning for three days and three nights, during which time miners were engaged in blowing up the stronger walls and cloisters, in order that not a stone of the place might be left standing. The enemy had promised to respect the Cathedral, and the Citizens had, therefore, filled it with their goods previous to m 96 DOMESTIC MANNEES OF THE PRÜSSIANS. quitting the neighbourhood ; but the French, instead of ful- filling their pledge, first plundered the goods, and then used them as fuel for the destruction of the edifice. It was at this period that the ancient cupola, nave, and choir, were destroyed, and the two towers alone left standing out of six that formerly graced the pile. It was at the same time, too, that the graves of the Emperors were broken open, and their bones scattered abroad; and though before this siege the city boasted five suburbs enclosed within its ramparts, and no less than 13 gates, and 64 towers of defence provided with artillery—all of these, with the exception of the ancient gate called the "Altpörtel" were levelled with the dust, the town remaining for many years a mere heap of rubbish. This ancient gateway still Stands at the end of Maximilian Strasse, and is merely a huge Square turret, tunnelled, as it were, with an archway at its base, and surmounted by a tall roof, that reminds one forcibly of the immense slate pyramids piled on top of the wings of the Tuilleries. After the destruction of the town in 1689, Speier was long before it was rebuilt; and even when the city was reared anew, it never regained its former prosperity; but was in the year 1794 again attacked by the French army, who, after six different assaults, carried it once more by storm, and re- enacted all the brutal scenes that their compatriots had per- petrated in the preceding Century. In the year 1816 Speier came into the possession of the King of Bavaria, and at his cost principally the Cathedral has been since restored, SENSE OF COMFORT. 97 III. CLASSES OF AMÜSEMENT. §1- Sense of Comfoktand Luxuky — Ideas of "Home"' — Casinos, CoNCEETS, AND "KeEMESES" ---- WiNE-GaKDENS ---- ShOOTING- FeASTS — DlUNKING AND SMOKING. The pleasures of a people are a delicate test of tlie national morals. All labour is performed and all business pursued merely to obtain a supply of articles of necessity, comfort, or luxury. An article of necessity is that which, like bread, tends to remove a physical pain or want; an article of comfort, on the other band, that which serves to relieve a mere uneasiness or incon- venience (as baths, beds, carpets, &c.); while an article of luxnry is what confers a positive pleasure (as jewels, wines, mnsic). Now of these three kinds of commodities, into which the produce and riches of every country are divisible,* it is * Not only is the produce of erery country divisible into articles of necessity, comfort, and luxury, but according as the capital is devoted, in a greater or less proportion, to the production of one or other of these three classes of commodities, so is the happiness of the people more or less general: or, in piain English, so is their condition more or less necessitous, or more or lesscomfortable, or more or less luxurious. In young countries, for instance, the greater part of the wealth set aside for future production is applied to the increase of articles of necessity ; and hence food becomes plentiful and cheap, whilst articles of comfort and luxury are correspondingly scarce and dear, so that the people YOL. II. II 98 DOMESTIC MANNEKS OK THE PKUSSIANS. evident that tlie luxuriös are those which can be tlie most easily dispensed with by tlie Community, and which, when indulged in, form a safer criterion than either of the others as to the tastes or propensities of the individuals. generally, under such circumstances, are far removed from want, and there is but little difference between rieh and poor. In more advanced nations, however, the various arts come to be practised, and a considerable proportion of the capital devoted to their produetion ; consequently, there being comparatively less wealth applied to the increase of the articles of necessity, and more to those of comfort and luxury, the former become gradually scarce, and the latter abundant. The natural result is, that whilst articles of luxury and comfort are being inordinately cheapened, the necessaries of life are growing regularly more and more costly ; so that the poor, under such circumstances, become continually poorer, obtaining less and less for their money, whilst the rieh, on the other hand, get gradually richer, securing more and more comforts and luxuries for the same amount of expenditure; hence the nation comes, ultimately, to be divided into two extreme classes,—the very rieh and the very poor. That such has been the case in our own land there cannot be a doubt. Every article of luxury has of late years been greatly reduced in price. We have, nowadays, cheap watches and cheap gold chains, cheap silks, carriages, pianos, furniture, pine-apples, ices, concerts, and operas ; whilst bread, and meat, and rent, have all been as gradually augmenting in money-value. Every man among us knows that the great alteration in this country within the last Century has arisen from the vast development of our manufactures, our mines, and our means of intercommunication ; but while this great change has been going on, and our population extending itself at a most rapid rate, the produetion of the necessaries of life has hardly been augmented among us,—the inclosure of waste lands having been comparatively trifiing ; and thus, while v, e have cheap cloth, and Shirts, and stockings, and crockery, and glass, and hard- ware, the price of bread is considerably dearer than it was before Manchester, Sheffield, Birmingham, and Merthyr Tydfil, &c., sprang into existence. Hence we have, at frequent intervals, the social anomaly oecurring among us of too many Shirts and too many shirtless; and this owing to the simple fact that there is not sufficient " purchasing power" in the Community at such times to cause a demand for tlie surplus manufactures : or, in less technical terms, the people have no surplus food to exchange against such commodities, i.e. no funds where- with to purchase the stock on band, and contribute toward a fresh supply. Such likewise appears to be the case with Rhenish Prussia, for there the produetion of wine is annually increasing, and that of com as gradually decreas- ing ; so that wine becomes more plentiful for the rieh and food scarcer for the poor, and while the vineyards are becoming more numerous, even black bread is growing to be a luxury, and the consumption of potatoes and the number of out-wanderers (emigrants) getting greater every year. : SENSE OV COMFOKT. 99 The mere satisfying the cravings of hutiger, or the protection of the body against the agony of cold, affords us no clue to the idiosyncracy of a particular people; whereas the indulgence in hahits of cleanliness, as well as a love of cosiness and tidiness at home, together with a liking for the tranquillity of the family fireside, betray not only a considerable amount of refined sensibility on the part of a nation, but imply a sedate- ness of character, and a development of those tender and affec- tionate graces of human nature, which are termed the domestic virtuos. But, on the other band, a taste for luxury, or a predi- lection for mere pleasure, heilig a positive rather than a negative enjoyment,— a feeling prompted merely by the recollection of some past delight, instead of hy the sense of some present un- pleasantness, and for which, consequently, there is no physical excuse,— exhibits a gross oftener than a refined nature, espe- cially when the pleasures are merely sensual ones, and they are sought after at the expense of comforts. To delight in gaudy clothes, for instance, and yet he callous as to the annoyance and offensiveness of an unclean person, is distinctive of negroes; and to find enjoyment in drinking stimulating liquors wbilst we are insensible to the charms of a wholesome, snug, and neat dwelling-place, is to he on a level with savages. The lowest and most undeveloped of human beings can appreciate the coarse pleasures of luxury, but it requires an educated and refined nature to be alive to those delicate sradations of feelino; which an Enchshman com- prises under the term comfort —even as the uninformed eye can perceive the barbaric beauty of lustrous metals and vivid colours, whilst it needs the organ of a Rembrandt to feel the higher and softer charms of the " clear obscure." The various articles of comfort which now form part of our every-day life seem to come so natural to us, that we H 2 100 DOMESnC MANXEKS OV THE HtUSSIAXS, can hardly imagine the time when they were unknown in tlie land: and it is only the lcarned who are aware how comparatively recent bas bcen tlie introduction of tlie majority of those tliings which now appear to be absolutely indispensable to human existence in a civilised statc. Even beds are almost modern inventions: our forefatliers liaving slept upon litters of loose rushes and heatlier, ratlier than couclies of featliers; indeed, it is only three-and-a-half centuries since straw was discarded from tlie royal bed- chambers of England. Shirts, again, were not worn tili the reign of the third Henry, when they were first made by tlie Flemish artis'ans who took refuge in this country at the time of the religious persecutions; whilst, as regards stockings, even Henry VIII. had only cloth hose to cover his legs; and Stowe teils us that one William Rider, a London apprentice, seeino; some knit worsted stockings from Mantua at the house of an Italian merchant, in 1564, ingeniously worked a pair like them, which he presented to the Earl of Pembroke ; and they were the first of the kind, he adds, " ever made in England." Silk mantles were first worn in England in 1286, by some noblemen's ladies, at a ball at Kenilworth Castle; but the fabric remained an expensive article of foreign produce tili the beginning of the seventeenth Century, when it was first manufactured in this country. Moreover, Catherine Howard, queen of Henry VIII., is said to have first used brass-wire pins, previous to which time ladies' dresses were fastened with skewers; and, f'urther, needles were not manufactured in this country tili the reign of " Bloody Mary," when they were made for the first time in Cheapside, by a negro from Spain. Again, chimneys to our houses date only as far back as the year 1200; before which period chafing-dishes were in use; and even in the year 1300 the family used to sit round SENSE OP COMFOBT ÄND LUXTJBY. 101 a stove, the funnel of which passed through the ceiling: whilst the candles common among the people at the same date con- sisted of splinters of wood fatted—gas, it is needless to State, being an invention of the prescnt Century. Nor had we such things as glass Windows to our rooms tili the beginning of the twelfth Century, and even then the material had to be imported from Italy. Further, carpets were articles of extreme luxury down to the same period; and it is mentioned by old historians, as an instance of Becket's splendid style of living, about the year 1160, that his sumptuous apartments were every day in winter strewn with clean hay or straw. Indeed our Kidderminster and Wilton manufactures are the growth of the last hundred years. The plates and dishes, too, on which the food was for- merly served, were unglazed, being more like pantiles than our present crockery, up to the time of Palissy the potter, who discovered the art of giving a glassy surface to earthenware, towards the middle of the sixteenth Century: whilst forks are an Italian innovation, not having been known among us more than two hundred and fifty years; for one Thomas Coryate, writing in 1608, teils us that at Venice it was the custom then to provide each person at dinner with a fork to hold the meat, besides the ordinary knife and spoon — it being considered ill manners there to touch the viands with the band; and he adds, " I myself have thought it good to imitate the Italian fashion since I came home to England." Then, even as regards the majority of our eatables, the same account must be given. The principal vegetables that are now sent to table with our meat were brought from Flanders in the reign of the eighth Henry; for, previous to 1509, we are told that sugar was generally eaten with animal food, " to correct its putrescency." Even cabbages, salads, and gooseberries, were unknown among us tili the year 1520, and apples 102 BOJIESTIC MANNEBS OF THE PKUSSIASy. first cultivated in this country in 1525; whilst currants, or " Corinthian grapes," as they were called, were not planted in England tili 1533 ; nor apricots tili 1540 ; neither didwe know the flavour of beans, peas, or lettuces, tili the year 1600. Nor is it more than two centuries since tea was originally brought to England, by my Lord Ossory, from Holland; wlien the flavour being admired by persons of rank, it began to be regularly imported, the price at first being as much as sixty Shillings the pound. With respect to books, again, it should be remembered that the invention of typography dates only from the fifteentli Century, the first book having been printed in England in 1474, previous to which it was customary for copies of cele- brated works to fetch double or treble their weight in gold: a homily being exchanged for two hundred sheep and five quarters of wheat; and King Alfred, in 872, having given, it is said, a largo estate for a copy of a treatise on cosmography. Watcb.es, too, properly so called, (for that used by the Emperor Charles V. is said to have been a small table-clock rather than a pocket-timepiece), have been manufactured only two hundred years: for one of the first ever made was pre- sented by Dr. Hooke, the inventor, to our Charles the Second, and tliis bears the date of 1658. Carriages, we may add, are but a hundred years oldor than watcb.es, for in tbe middle of the sixteenth Century there were but two coaches in Paris, one of which belonged to the Queen, whilst the first carriage seen in England was manufactured in 1553; previous to that period monarchs travelled on horseback, princesses were carried in litters, and ladies rode a-pillion behind their squires. Hackney-carriages, however, were not introduced tili nearly a Century afterwards —the first having been licensed in 1662, and the earliest stand set up at the Maypole in the Strand, by St. Clement's Church ; 4% SEKSK OF COMFOKT AND LÜXUKT. 103 whereas mail-coaches, for tho rapid conveyance of letters and passengers, were not established tili the end of the last Century, the plan having bcen devised by Mr. Palmer of Bath, and the first put into practice at Bristol in 1784—prior to wbich the letters were conveyed by one-horse carts, or by boys on horseback. Now by the above brief chronological catalogue it will be seen, that inost of the appliances of modern civilisation have been introduced into Europe within the last three centuries; and it should be noted at the same time, that many of the foregoing social refinements have not even yet become gener-al among Continental nations. Stockings, for instance, can hardly be said to be common among the people of France: many a middle-class French. dandy wearing under bis patent leather boots nothing but a roll of rags, instead of hose. In Germany, too, the families still sit round a stove with the funnel thrust through the wall, the same as our forefathers did five hnndred years ago. Further, the Chambers, even of the wealthy Ger- mans, remain uncarpeted to this day; preserved fruits, too, are eaten with the meat instead of vegetables, as sugar was by our ancestors in the year 1500 ; whilst the people in gene- ral hardly understand the use of forks. Indeed it is admitted by all, that whilst a love of luxury is distinctive of the French character, comfort is essentially an English enjoyment,—foreign Ianguages possessing no equi- valent for the idea: for when the people of other nations have learnt from us to have a faint notion of the physical and social delights included under the term, and have transplanted our word into their vocabulary, they misapply it so ridiculously as to prove to every English mind that they still have no definite knowledge either of the feeling or the meaning of the expression. "Comfortable pastry" we once saw announced ■ 104 nOMESTIC MANNERS OF TUE PRITSSIANS. at a confectioner's in Paris; and the Germans fancy our term to be synonymous witli solace, —using tlie word " Trost" in its place. A love of comfort, however, comes from a love of home, so that thoso nations who make no verbal nor mental distinction between the home and the house in which they happen to live, and whose very dictionaries prove that they have not yet learnt to appreciate the tranquil joys of domestic life, cannot, of course, be expected to comprehend that comfortable State of mind which is the consequence of an agreeable abiding-place. Further, civilisation and politeness, in their literal and derivative meanings, signify simply that refinement which arises from the dwelling in cities, as contradistinguished from that rongher and boorish nature which is induced by agrarian habits; and as the living in houses is the main point which dis- tinguishes the settler from the wanderer,—the civilised man from the savage, so does the development of the domestic feelings, ■—the exaltation of the mere dwelling-place into the almost sacred character of a home—display a higher grade of civilisation, a more steady and sedate character, on the part of a nation. Tried, then, by these indisputable principles, it is evident that no country .rivals England in the civilisation of its people, since in no other nation are the home-feelings and the home- virtues so highly developed, whilst the sense of comfort remains unawakened in almost overy other land. On the Continent, the middle and lower classes live chiefly out of doors. A Frenchman reads bis morning paper at his cafi, dines at his restaurant, and passes his evenings either in playing dominoes at the neighbouring estaminet, or at the theatre or some " cafi chantant; " or eise among the dancing grisettes and lorettes at one of the public gardens. His home THEIR LOTE OF HOME. 10.5 is merely the place for himself and his wife and children to sleep in, and certainly not the spot in which all liis affections are centered. In Prussia the same thing holds good, though hardly to the same extent; for Society, in the Rhenish capital at least, is upon the same low and degraded footing as it was with us some hundred years ago, when even our gallants and our wits spent the night at taverns, and scarcely a husband or a father throughout the nation dreamt of passing the evening among the members of his own family. These remarks upon continental habits and manners, it should be added, refer only to the middle classes, for with what are termed "the higher" we profess no acquaintance. Moreover, the middle class of every country affords the fairest notion as to the State of the nation; for not only are all com- moditics reducible into necessitics, comforts, and luxuries, but the several classes of society admit of being divided in the same manner,—into the necessitous, the comfortable, and the luxurious: so that, by attending to the middle State, we are enabled to discover the real amount of civilisation and refine- ment in the land, the extremes giving us no more idea as to the social condition of the race than the hottest and coldest days afford us as to the average temperature of the climate. The Prussian homes we havo already shown to be no very inviting places; hence it is not astonishing to find the people indulging in those gross customs which prevailed with us be- fore the houses of our merchants and tradesmen had been rendered more attractive and agreeable than many a continental palace—viz. of retiring, almost as soon as the day's business was ended, either to some tavern-club or favourite beer-shop, to smoke and drink away the evening. In England, however, such habits appertain nowadays only to working-men and the 106 DOMESTIC MANNEIiS OE THE PKUSSIASS. small retail dealers, who, possessing no place of their own worthy of the name of a home, fly to the ncarest tap-rooin or bar-parlour, as the cosiest possible Substitute. The Coblenz "Casino," to which the majority of the people betake themselves at dusk, is, when the title is rendered into English, dignified by the name of a Club; but it is no more like our " Athenseum," or "Reform," or "United Service," than "Codgers' Hall" resembles the House of Commons. Perhaps the style of English institutions to which it bears the dosest simi- litude is "the Eagle Tavern," or "Highbury Barn;" for there are gardens fittecl with tables for alfresco refreshments, and large rooms for smoking and drinking in, to the occasional accom- paniment of music; though the grounds are by no means so extensive, nor the rooms so well appointed, as the sixpenny suburban retreats populär among our chandlers and artizans. The drinking and even dining-chambers of the so-called Cob- lenz Club are quite on a level with those of any English public-house tap, and certainly far inferior, both in furniture and refinement, to our "Albion Tavern," or the "Scotch Stores;" for the tables are unpolished, the boards uncar- peted, and the refreshments served with no more style than at what we term a " slap-bang." There are, moreover, reading rooms after the manner of our Mechanics' Institutes; arid balls, for the wives and daughters of the members, about equal in elegance to those of the defunct " Whittington," and "all for the small charge" of ls. 6c?. per month.* At these dances the English visitor will obtain a lively * If the Coblenzers have much to learn from us in the appointments and conduct of their clubs, we might nevertheless take a hint from thera, and per- mit the members of our " Carltons" and " Travellers" to have unsophisticated wine sent home from the joint-stock cellars to their own residences at the wholesale prices. Nor would it be unadvisable, now-a-days, to apply the same principle to such articles as tea, sugar, coffee, &c, and thus avoid not only the exorbitant profits, but also the poisonous adulterations, of the retailer. CASINOS, CONCEKTS, AND KERMESES. 107 notion of the state of female cleanliness by the colour of tlie ladies' flannel petticoats, for as the waltzers twirl round and round, undcr-garments will be revealed to the sight rivalling in tint the habiliments of a Schornstein-feger. The greater part of the gentlemen, moreover, will be found dancing un- gloved, whilst many a fair creature who has retired to the tranquillity of the supper-room will be seen smoothing her hair over the sumptuous pennyworth of cherry pie that her partner has comrnanded to be placed before her. Those who are not members of the Casino frequent some beerhouse in the evenings (the hoteis and more decent taverns bcing too expensive for a Prussian's pocket). Here the natives smoke, and drink the extract of taraxacum called " Baierisch- bier" and the ofhcers occasionally (for the places swarm with such folk) indulge, by way of supper, in a three-halfpenny plate of bot mutton, or a twopenny plate of ham, or a raw "neue H'dring" or a potato salad, with the potatoes in a like crude condition. In the neighbourhood of every town there is always a thick sprinkling of wine-and-beer-gardens, some of which are immediately outside the gates, (to avoid the town-dues,) and others about a league distant from the city. These are after the fashion of our humblest tea-o-ardens, rather than being emulous of the sylvan beauties of "Madrid" in the Bois de Boulogne, or the "faster" glories of our own Cremorne or Rosherville. Indeed, to whatever establishment you go in Rhenish Prussia, the two things that first strike you are the want of capital and the want of enterprise on the part of the penniless and phleg- matie proprietor. The Wein-gartens at Moselweis and Horchheim, and those on the banks of the (certainly not blue) Mosel, are all, more or less, of the grubby, scrubby, shrubby eharacter, being laid out ■ w» 108 BOMESTIC MANNEES OF TUE PRUSSIAKS. with no more taste than our kitclien-gardens; whilst the placcs called " Rheinlusts" are small wildernesses near the summit of one of the hüls overlooking the river, and fitted with some two or three huge straw parasols nicknamed summer-houses. At one and all of these resorts the coffee has the true Prussian smack of acorns, and the wine, if neutralised with carbonate of soda as before recommended, continues to effer- yesce to a degree that is perfectly alarming, as indicative of the amount of vinegar it contains. To such places, neverthe- less, come the tradesmen and officers, on a Sunday, to drink thcir "Essig" nicknamed Zeltinger and Piesporter, and eat their uncooked sausages. Further, many of the Ooblenzers betake themselves, by way of an afternoon's pleasure, to the mild excitement of the Cold-water Establishment at Laubach, and there strive to cheer themselves with glasses of raspberry vinegar, or an infusion of ehernes squashed in water; whilst those who are more fashionable retire to the medicinal gaieties of the Baths at Ems or Bertrich, where they sip their bot salts in public, indulging in the refreshing glass of warm Epsom or Glauber in the dog-days, with as much gusto as we do " Sherry Cobblers" or iced " Cliquot." Now at all these kindred establishments (for it is almost impossible to discriminate between the medicinal waters and the so-called refreshments, the wines having all the aeidity of fever-draughts, and the beer all the apothecary-like smack of tonics,) a band is usually provided, as an extra induce- ment to the bibbers. " Geosses Conceet u. Baieeisch Biee " is the usual announcement; so that you drink your taraxaeum (beer) at Texas to the excitement of a "Frei Concert," or pickle yourself with acetic aeid (wine) at Moselweis, to the tuneful jerkings of one of Labitsky's polkas, or eise you in- CASINOS, CONCEETS, AND KERMESES. 109 dulge in your alkalino antidote to all tlie vlnegar you have previously swallowed, under the namo of " Stieger" or "Braune-berger" to the sound of a brass band at Ems. Around Coblenz tliere were some dozen of these " Weingartens" and the little play-bill of a daily paper was usually half-filled witb these advertisements of " Garden Concehts " and " Gabden Hakmonies" —the said concerts being, as witli our " Canterbury Halls " and " Effingham Saloons," merely extra attractions to induce extra drinking.* Moreover, every village has its annual " Kermes," or Sunday Fair, in honour of the saint after whom the parish church is christened; and this again is an excuse for the people flocking in unusual crowds to the " Wein-gartens" and * We append a few advertisements, cut at random from the Coblenz paper, in Illustration of this part of our subject:— To-day, Thursday, To day, Clirist's Ascension, Executed by the Hartmann Society, wliereto (the public) is most respect- fully invited. J. Z------, at Güls. MOSELWEISS GARDEN. To-day, Thursday (Christ's Ascension), Executed by the Band of the 25th Regiment of Infantry. Open at half- past Three. Admission for Gentlemen, 21 sgr. (3rf. English). TEXAS. To-day, Thursday, Ist May, 1856. Open at half-past four. To-day, Ist May, H AKRA® IM Y, At Fellinger's. ©©KaeiiKT (At the Tavern bearing the sign of) " The Peninsula." To-day, Thursday, ©KÄfRÜ® @©[M- J .., 1 -" I ■ 118 DOMESTIO MANNEBS OF THE PRUSSIANS. may be seen in the corner of the state apartments; and at Rheinstein (the Rhenish residence of one of the Princes Royal) the Chambers reek of stale tohacco-smoke like a taproom. True, the custom of smoking has not yet been introduced into the churches, though it certainly has found its way into middle-class ball-rooms, for at the Bertrieb, baths we saw several gentlemen smoking while the ladies danced. Smoking DD S> in bed, again, is a common custom; and in the window of every pipe-shop you may see wire cages, made for indulging in the beastly habit without fear of setting the clothes on fire. Children of ten years old smoke (though the natives declare there is a law against youths indulging in the habit under fburteen years of age), and greybeards, too, of eighty; thus showing you that the practice is older than the present gene- ration. Indeed, the first breath an infant draws on entering the German world is sure to be three-parts tobaeco-smoke, and the last gasp a man gives for air, fetches only the fumes of Dutcli k'naster in return. Not a German sitting-room but reeks of tobaeco-oil like a pothouse in the morning; you catch the same stench, too, in the women's hair as they sit beside you at dinner; and the public newspapers smell of it as strongly as a bit of sea-weed does of the beach; whilst if you reeeive a letter from a German family, you require to deodorize it before it is readable. Nor should innocent Engländers imagine that the odour of the weed which the Prussians delight to inhale is equal even to that of our penny " Pickwicks," for the best German Havannas are grown and dried in Holland, and sold at the rate of three a-penny; whilst those of a commoner kind may be had as low as four for a halfpenny: so that even our full-flavoured rhubarb cheroots are positive nosegays to the finest Dutch cabanas. R^BBHIHI ^h^^b^b^^^hhdi HEIDELBERG. 119 Itttatyvbttfr %\m\ Amtes. . (5.) HEIDELBERG. Heidelberg is the Rheinfels of the Neckar. It is the site of an ancient " Scldoss-Festung," as the Germans call it, or Palace-fortress as we shoulcl say in English. But grandly as the Rhine-ruin is set amid the brown and precipitous cliffs of St. Goar, with the great Grerman river vvalled in by the lmge pyramids of the rocky masses, that blacken the water alongside them with their shadows, tili the stream has almost the aspect of a pool or crater-lake; and with the yellow and roofless fa9ade of the tottering stronghold cresting its green truncated mountain-cone close beside the stream—the sky shining in bright blue patches through the jagged window-holes and empty embrasures, and the walls standing in fragmentary plates almost like the tall isolated stones of some old Druid temple,—grandly as this rock-girt pile strikes the mind, and vast as its proportions appear in the desolateness of the abandoned citadel, never- theless it dwindles into the ugliness of a mere monster dungeon when compared with the still-perfect architectural graces and rieh red colour tinting the ivy-curtained walls of the eight palaces that make up the mountain-castle of Heidelberg. The Neckar ruin, indeed, is set sublimely on a shelf of rock, half-way up one of the lmge mountains between which the meandering river pushes its way, and with a pedestal of cannonless ramparts descending in steps almost to the water-side ; and with the long, single street of a town that Stretches at its feet, filmed over with the smoke steaming up from below, and the green sward of the mountain mass 120 DOMESTIC MANNEES OF THE PEUSSIANS. that slopes at its back contracting finely with the pale coral tint of its windowless and roofless walls, bastioned at intervals with tlieir high, battered towers; and with the dark cumulus clouds of the surrounding trees rising in dense and solid fumes, as it were, about its lofty sicfes, and the little many- arched bridge spanning the fretting stream at its base; and with the monster earth-billows that make up the mountain-chain of the Oden-Wald swelling up, like immense volcanic " land- bubbles," along the opposite shore, and the bright tints of the sunshine, as it falls in a golden flood upon their vine-clad sides, staining the river like a rieh oriel window; and the distant Neckar, seen at the far end of the narrow mountain vista, thin almost as the trickling of a spring, shining down amid the darkness of the chasm in silver flashes, like a glow- worm at the bottom of some steep bank;—all these adjunets conspire to render the Castle of Heidelberg at once the grandest and the most beautiful ruin, perhaps, in the world — the Alhambra, as it has been termed, of Germany, though the old Moorish pile sinks to the elaborateness of filagree beside it: the one being pretty and light as a Cluster of icicles sparkling in the sun, the other sublime and massive as an iceberg towering out of the sea. Such is the exterior of Heidelberg; still, the interior is infinitely more graceful. " Here art," says Goethe, " borrows beauty from nature, and nature returns it with interest;" for the charms of Ornament and the architectural delicacies, that are utterly lost in the grandeur of the mass viewed from a distance, positively enrapture the eye, when near, with the very luxury of decoration; while the pleasing incongruities of the ruin seize upon the mind with all the force of contrast: the moats changed to a wilderness, with their tangle of brambles and trees—the ramparts bristling with wild firs HEIDELBERG. 121 ratlier than cannon—the portcullis immoveable with rust — the embrasures choked and wattled over with ivy a hundred years old—the royal nuptial-chambers without a roof— the solle, a rnanger of the Princess of England with trees sprouting frorn the floor—the gorgeous Rittersaals (Knights' halls) without Windows or floor—and Restauration» ("et de bonne bi&re" adds M. Baedeker,) and boarding-houses (with "good table d'höte at 1," says Mr. Murray) dispensing the hospitalities of the Castle instead; and, indeed, the fortress that was intended, with its ball-proof bastions, batteries, and ramparts, to resist the cannon and shells of the enemy, crumbling slowly away before the silent attacks of the wind and the rain — and the "triumphal arches," that were raised to perpetuate some great glory of yore, now telling only of misfortune and human vanity. Let us mount the hill. There are two roads from the town to the Castle—the one from Karlsplatz, a mere foot- path, leading by terraces and garden-slopes up the Castle- hill side to the part of the ruin facing the Neckar; and the other a steep carriage-way, extending from the Klinge Itlwr, and bringing the stranger to the back of the building. Pursuing the latter route we enter the Castle-gardens, that are still laid out with broad walks, and exquisitely shady and cool with their long arcades of interlacing boughs above —the sun-beams trickling, as it were, in large gouttes through the leafy lattice; and the veiled light as it descends stained a pale green, as if it had permeated some painted window. Here, before reaching the gate that leads to the cpiadrangle of the Castle itself, we turn into the allie to the left, and thus come to the " Elizabethen Pforte" (Elizabeth Gate)—a hand- some triumphal arch, in red sandstone, with wreaths of oak- leaves sculptured up the pillars, and the gate itself half curtained with ivy,—the graceful lines of the architecture ' r< S; 122 DOMESTIC MANNERS OE THE TRUSSIANS. being beautifully varied and broken, and the Ornaments half hidden by the boughs of the parasitic plants hanging from the pediment. The arch itself is set almost in a bower of foliage, and tlie rieh red of the embossed stone-work is in exquisite contrast, not only with the dark beetle-green of the ivy that droops in festoons about it, but with the softer colours of the now autmnn-tinted trees Surround ing it. This arch is interesting to our countrymen, not alöne for its intrinsic beauty, but from its having been built for the Princess Elizabeth Stuart (the grandmother of our George I.) by her husband, the Elector Frederick V., to celobrate bis nuptials with the daughter of James I. the English king. It then led to the flower-garden wliich the Prince-Elector had laid out for her, and which to this day still remains one cf the loveliest walks in the world; commanding, as it does, a vast view of the exquisite scenery of the Neckar, with the Schwarz-Wald lying far behind, and the Oden- Wald towering high in front; and looking deep down into the little town at its feet, with the pigmy people dotting its public places and its streets, and the cradle-like craft drifting down the stream, whose course the eye can track twisting through its mountain Channel far away to where the hazy line of the Vosges looms like a long cloud upon the horizon. But the arch of triumph, and the flower-garden, and the new nuptial palace, that were all devised in exultation at the good fortune that awaited the botrothed prince, now remain only splendid examples of the vanity of human hopes; serving but to recall to the mind, with all the vividness of dramatic force, the words of this arrogant Princess, who, when her husband hesitated to aeeept the crown of Bohemia, de- clared that she would rather eat dry bread at a king's table than feast at the board of a Prince-Elector; and who, with a fine retributive destiny, came in the course of years, not HEIDELBERG. 123 only to eat dry brcad as an exilcd queen, but to liave to heg it first. At the end of the flower-garden, and at the corner of the "English Palace" facing the Neckar, is to be seen the well-]ike stump of "der dicke Thurm" (the thick tower), which, though the walls are twenty-two feet in thickness, was bat- tered down almost to the root by the French in 1689. This was formerly the hall in which the fetes of Frederick V. were given, and the statue of the Elector, with that of his brother Louis V., are still standing in the niches, half-covered with ivy. Continuing the path towards the court-yard of the Castle, we pass the principal gateway, with the red rusted teeth of its portcullis still peeping from below the arch. And no sooner do we enter the quadrangle than we stand environed with palaces; built by as many diffcrent Electors as there are wings, and all clisplaying the various tastes of their founders, as well as being enriched with the architectural graces of successive centuries. Ilere the walls are as red almost as cornelian, and the fretted and sculptured facades, the work of which is nearly as sharp as if it were finished but yes- terday, are an encyclopaedia of the several styles of the ages in which they were respectively erected; and even though the courtyard is now like a hcath, and each red palace is but an open shell of walls, it could hardly have appeared more beautiful or more grand when it was fresh from the mason's chisel; for there is always a half pathos about a ruin, that (even if the breaking up of the outlines, and the mellowing of the tints —together with all the startling anti- theses of peace and war, pomp and rubbish, which time links together in such a place — did not serve to lend it extra beauty in decay) would at least make it at once interesting and impressive as a monument of the mere changes of fort tune since the laying of its first stone. 124 DOMESTIC MANNERS OF TUE PRUSSIANS. On entering the spacious quadrangle, the fagade facing us is that of the palace of Frederick IV. — tliat to the right belongs, on the other hand, to the palace of Otto-Henry — that to the left, again, is part of the English Palace built by Frederick V. — whilst the more ancient struetures bebind us are the portions that were construeted by the first Electors, Rodolph and Ruprecht. At the last-mentioned of these we see the Imperial eagle over the escutcheon of the Palatinate, and above the door is a crown of roses borne by two angels—probably some masonic symbol. The facade of the palace built by Frederick IV. (FreidericJi's- baii) is almost overlaid with Ornament, and revelling in all the luxuries of design. It is surmounted by two handsome pediments, and its walls niched with rows of statues representing the ances- tors of the Electors-Palatine, from the time of Charlemagne. In the first row from the top we pereeive the Emperor Charlemagne and the three Counts-Palatine — Otto de Wit- telsbach, Lewis of Bavaria, and Rodolf the First. Along the second line may be seen the two Emperors, Lewis of Bavaria and Rupert IL, and the two Kings, Otto of Hungary and Christopher of Denmark. Below these, on the third rank, are found four more Counts-Palatine, — Rupert the Ancient, Frederick the Victo- rious, Frederick IL, and Otto-Henry. Whilst the fourth and lowest series is composed of another quadrate of Palatines, — Frederick the Pious, Lewis, Jean- Casimir, and Frederick IV. In front of tbis part of the Castle is a broad stone balcony ("der Altan"), or rather terrace, looking out on the river below, and presenting a scene of grandeur and beauty that is not to be paralleled in Europe. The facade of the Palace of Otto-Henry, forming the MK HEIDELBE1SG. 125 west wing, or that facing thc upper part of the Neckar, is the most remarkable oF all the buildlngs for the exquisite taste of its design and the richness of its architectural embellish- ments. It is in the best Italian style, called " cinque cento" and of the noblest proportions, having been designed, it is said, by Michael Angelo. Here the doorway is a choice bit of beauty, with its caryatides and embossed entablature, and the Windows are finely pedimented and elaborately fretted with decorations; whilst the niches which indent the walls are filled with statues of the heroes of mythology and ancient history, both profane and sacred,— Hercules, Mars, Nero, Samson, Venus, Joshua, Brutus, &c, being ranged one beside the other in a curious historic and mythic medley. At the south-eastern corner of the Castle, and at the end of the broad walk by which we first entered the ground, is seen the split tower, that was undermined and blown up by the French (der gesprengte Thurrn). This originally formed one of the bastions of the Castle, and was 70 odd feet in diameter and 150 feet high ; but the walls were so massive and the masonry so sound, that though the tower was split down, and a " vertical section," as it were, made of its construction by the explosion of the powder—leaving the vaulted casemates of the interior exposed to view—the enormous fragment, instead of crumbling to pieces, merely slid down into the moat below in one solid mass, where it still remains inclined against the wall like a huge splinter of rock, with the fir-trees sprouting from its embrasures and crevices, and the wild thicket that has sprung up in the dry moat half hiding it from view. Almost at the cross corner to the " Sprung Tower," that is to say, at the north-western part of the building, there is a cave beside the English Palace, containing the enormous Heidelberg Tun — which is the largest wine-cask in the world, and capable of holding 800 hogsheads, or very nearly BW" 126 DOMESTIC MANNEBS OF TUE HUTSSIANS. 300,000 bottles, but still of little better tlian half the capacity of one of the monster porter-vats of our London brewers.* At the first glance, this huge cask strikes one like the liull of some unweildy Duteh bärge resting on its Stocks. Upon its bead it bears an escutcheon carved on the staves. A broad staircase runs up alongside of the beam of the vessel, as it were, and leads to the deck-Iike platform with which tbe top of the gigantic tun is covered. Here the Elector Charles-Theodore (the last princely occupant of the Castle) was wont to assemble the eilte of Ins court, and to give a supper and ball on the completion of the vintage, when it was filled with its river of wine—the annual tribute of the vineyards of the Palatinate. The history of the Castle is replete with vicissitudes. Its origin is coeval with the Counts-Palatine themselves, having been founded by the first Pfalzgraves. Otto of Witteisbach is said to have established his residence at Heidelberg, and made the town the capital of the Palatinate; and his son Lewis IV. of Bavaria (surnamed "the Severe") who was son-in-law to Rudolph of Hapsburg, is thought to have founded the present Castle, towards the end of the 13th Century, on being invested with the dignity of Count-Palatine, and Coming into possession of the manor of Heidelberg. The Elector Rodolph I. added the royal nuptial apartments to the Castle, and in them celebrated his marriage with the daughter of the Emperor Adolphe of Nassau — he whose tomb is seen in the Kaiserdom, and who feil at the battle of Speier. The oldest portion, however, at present standing, was built, * The Heidelberg Tun is 36 feet long and 24 feet high, and contains 250 fudders (800 hogsheads), or precisely 230,000 bottles. A large London porter-vat is Said to contain 3000 barreis, of 36 gallons each = 108,000 gallons ; and reckoning 6 bottles to the gallon, 648,000 bottles in all! HEIDELBEKG. 127 in the year 1400, by the Count-Palatine and Elector Ruprecht III., surnamed " the Red;" this part of the ruin is called to the present day "Ruprecht's building" (liuprechfs-bau). The Elector Frederick I., however, added largely to the structure, and after his time magnificent wings were built by the Electors Lewis V., surnamed " the Pacific," and Otto- Henry, and Frederick IV. and V., the last being the un- fortunate King of Bohemia, and husband to Elizabeth Stuart, who, as we have said, was the daughter of our James I., and grand-daughter of Mary Queen of Scots. The first of these princes erected the portion of the Castle known by the name of " Ludwig's-bau" (Lewis' building), together with the tower called "Der dicke Thurm" A.D. 1553 ; the second constructed the west wing, styled " Otto- Heinrich''s-bau" (Otto-Henry's building), A.D. 1556; the third raised the north or front wing, christened " FreidricK's-bau " (Frederick's building), A.D. 1607; and the last added the part denominated the "English Palace," as well as the "Elizabethen Pforte'" (Elizabeths Gate), A.D. 1607. Indeed, the Castle of Heidelberg comprises within its trenches no less than eight different palaces, built by as many different princes. But, if nearly half-a-score of the Counts Palatine were concerned in raising the structure, assuredly it required the cannons and bombs of many annies, as well as the bolts of Heaven itself, in order to destroy it; for it has thrice suffered from fire, and ten times experienced the horrors of war; and yet, though reduced to a mere carcass, the greater part of its adamantine walls remain to this day as solid and ornate as when they were first erected. During the Thirty Years' War grcat ravages were made in the building, and the Elector Charles-Lewis the Wise vainly attempted to restore it; for he had incurred the displeasure of Louis XIV., who, in 1674, sent his troops into the Palatinate 128 DOMESTIC MANNEKS OF THE HIU8SIANS. to lay waste the country before them, witli slaughter, fire, and rapine. Charles-Lewis, unable to oppose the French with an equal force, slmt himself up in the Castle, and saw with anguish the flames rising from the surrounding villages and towns. But, being eager to avenge the wanton cruelties of the French General, he resolved to challenge Turenne to single combat, and addressed him the following letter:— " It is impossible that his Most Christian Majesty can have commanded you to lay waste, as you have, my country. I must therefore attribute such barbarous conduct to personal enmity on your part. But it is unjust that my poor subjects should suffer for any feeling that you may entertain in your heart against me; and, therefore, I propose to terminate our difference on your naming the hour, the place, and the arms that you would choose." The French General, however, did not deign to accept the challenge, and a few years afterwards, Louis XIV. (on the death of the Elector) laid claim to the Palatinate on behalf of the Duke of Orleans, and in 1688 sent another army up the Kinne under Melac — a general whose brutality and atrocities surpassed those of the previous leader, and who, cofttrary to the conditions of the recent treaty, blew up the Castle of Heidelberg. In 1693, again, the devastation was continued, and even to a greater extent than before; for then, at the siege under Chamilly, the troops were guilty of excesses, equalled only in enormity by those of the French Revolution. The Castle being surrendered, or rather betrayed by the Governor, the Citizens who had taken refuge in it were slaughtered without mercy, and the building itself reduced to ruins. Its ultimate destruction, however, had yet to be achieved; for though it was once more restored, and almost to its former splendour, by Charles-Philip, in 1716, and remained intact until HE1DELBEEG. 129 1764, tlien the " octagon tower," at the corner next tlie viaduct- like " terrace," was Struck by liglitning, and the interior of the Castle entirely consumed by fire, as the Elector Charles-Theodore was returning to it from his residence at Mannheim. Since then it has never been restored or occupied, and it now remains a mere shell of red-stone walls, having been roofless for nearly a Century; still it is one of the most interesting ruins in Europe, not only on account of its varied fortunes, but for its picturesque Situation, as well as its vastness and its architectural riches, exhibiting as they do the styles of different centuries and the taste of its different founders. The town of Heidelberg contains little to attract the stranger. It is, as we said, one interminable, narrow thoroughfare, as long as our Oxford Street, and extending from the railway Station to the handsome gate of Carl-Theodore. The line of houses is squeezed in between the " Castle" mountain (Schlossberg) and the Neckar, and is broken by the clumsy, bulbous tower of the Church of the Holy Ghost (a most accommodating and Christian edifice, being used by Catholics and Protestants by turns), the square turret of the Church of St. Peter (against whose door Jerome of Prague, the noble friend of Huss, nailed his theses, and in whose pulpit he afterwards defended them), and the Temple-Bar-like front of the Jesuits' Church (a heavy marble affair, in the usual Jesuitical style of church architec- ture). The Haupt Strasse (High Street) of Heidelberg is, comparatively speaking, busy with passengers—the University students, with their gay-coloured cloth caps and striped watch- ribbons, composing the greater number of the pedestrians, and the shops being more like those of Paris and London than the ordinary sleepy-looking " Magazins " of a German town. Indeed, the whole place has the look and bustle of a thriving Community. The University, however, is very much like a VOL. II. K 130 DOMESTIC MANNERS OF THE PEUSSIANS. huge model lodging-house in a bad State of repair, being merely a large, piain, stucco building, at one side of a bare open Platz, and appearing alinost as desolate as Gray's Inn Square on a Sunday. The environs of Heidelberg, however, are füll of beauty —every different road revealing some fresh charm. There is the lovely ride to Wolfsbrunnen, with its Swiss-chälet-like restaurant and black pools of water; and the exquisite moun- tain-walk up either to the Königstuhl (King's Stool) — the immense liill swelling up immediately behind the Castle, or eise up the ravine of the still loftier Heilegenberg (Holy Hill), on the opposite side of the river, along the exquisitely thought- ful Philosophers' Way (Philosphs Wceg). Here, too, at a little distance up the Valley that leads to the mountain-pass, you come to the small inn called Hirschgraben, where the college-boys fight their duels, and the tables are scored over with students' names. The room in which the encounters take place is a little Square one, and partakes of the character of a country casino (or dancing-saloon), having a tin hoop of candles dangling from the centre of the ceiling. On the floor here the would-be men, having stripped themselves to their shirt-sleeves, thrust at one another with their " Schläger " (rapiers) until blood is drawn, while the spectators (for the public are admitted to such displays) sit round on the benches against the wall, as if it were some rat-fight that was going on. " Would the Herr like to see a duel?" said the barmaid to us as we inspected the apartment. " There was one here about two rnonths ago, and we expect another in about a fort- night; we should be happy to send word to the Herr's hotel a day or two before." Some twenty to thirty such affrays take place here in the course of each season, and occasionally terminate fatally—a boy from Hamburg was killed on the spot the year before our visit. ATHLETIO SPORTS. 131 §2. The Absence of all Athletic Spokts — Loye of Music — The Parade-Ground on a Sdndat — Gambling — " coffee-drinkings" and balls. No athletic or manly games are known among the inactive adults and hardly less inert youths of the country. The healthful exercise of cricket would require too much exertion to be populär among a race who delight in crawling about at the pace of reptiles rather than men. For the same reason the people never indulge in the vigorous recreation of football or hockey. Nor are any such sports as those of rackets, or bowls, or quoits known to the slow Deutschers.* * We are inclined to believe that the habitual inactivity of the Prussian and Rhenish races proceeds from some organic defect peculiar to the people ; or, in other words, that their extraordinary want of energy has an internal origin, being merely increased rather than produced by such external causes as the im moderate use of tobacco and living in undrained houses and close unventilated rooms. The Deutschers are content to pass their lives in such places, because they have not naturally sufficient energy to clean and purify their dwellings ; and they smoke to an inordinate extent, because smoking is essentially a sedentary amusement, affording the mind just enough occupation in idleness to prevent absolute vacuity. Hence the Prussians are accustomed to fetid rooms and tobacco clouds because they are naturally inert, and they are rendered more inert than they are by nature, owing to their indulgence in such narcotic poisons. Now we would suggest, that the internal cause for this natural lack of energy on the part of the Germans may probably proceed from defective Organisation in that portion of the brain, whither all the motor nerves of the body are trace- able. It is well known to anatomists, that at the base of the cerebrum lie two large masses of nervous matter, called the Corpora striata and the thalamus optici i and that the track of sensory nerves is found to end in the one, and that of the motory nerves in the other. Hence it may be presumed that, according as the one or the other of these bodies is fully or imperfectly developed, or more or less perfectly supplied with arterial blood, so must the sensory or motory functions of the individual be more or less lively. By such means we are enabled, not only to account physically for the K 2 S^BM^^^B^HHHI^^BP^3BE3aB5 132 D0MEST1C MANNEKS OF THE PEUSSIANS. The Germans, when rated upon this score, teil you that they consider such sports childish and unworthy of grown men, even though they pass several hours in the course of the week engaged in the manly pastime of dominoes! Moreover, from the presence of two large rivers almost at the very doorsteps of the Coblenzers, one would naturally have imagined that the schoolboys in the town would have been as remarkable for their aquatic propensities as our Westminster or Eton lads. But, no! rowing being rather more laborious a sensibility of some characters, as well as the gross want of feeling displayed by others—the difference between a poet and a butcher—a Percy Bysshe Shelley and a Jack Ketch, for instance—but also to explain why it is that some in- dividuals have such an excess of muscular irritability as to be incapable of sitting still or remaining in the sarae place, or even attending to the same subject, for two minutes consecutively ; while others are listless and inactive as idiots. The love of hunting, of Walking, of travelling, and among the poorer class of vagabondising, would appear to be referable to such an organic cause; for we must all admit some difference, either of Organisation or habit, in order to account for the differences of character : and perhaps characters never vary so much among individuals as in their capacities and desire for muscular exercise. How comes it that one man or one nation is distinguished for its activity and another for its indisposition for physical exertion ? What innate peeuliarity is it which induces "the London Sparrow" to prefer picking pockets to using his muscles honestly for his living ? and what organic idiosyncracy makes Cap- tain Barclay so fond of Walking that he ultimately accomplishes his 1000 miles in 1000 consecutive hours? Is it not well known, too, that extravasation of blood upon the thalamiis or the Corpora striata produces either paralysis of feeling or motion, according to the nature of the nerves affected ? a.nd that in somnambulism the Walking during slumber arises from the fact of the motor nerves being imperfectly asleep, while the sensory ones are comparatively deadened ? If, then, we admit a physical cause for the more or less perfect privation of the functions of Sensation or action, surely it is but extending the same principle to refer the differences of character among human beings, as regards their sensi- bilities and energies, to a greater or less development of the sensory or motory Organs. Following out this same theory, therefore, we are led to believe, that if the brains of a large number of Englishmen were to be compared with those of the Prussians, the Deutschers would be found to have the motor ganglion at the base of the cerebrum imperfectly developed. ATHLETIC SPORTS. 133 pastime than smoking, your young Preusse takes a pull at bis pipe in preference to tlie oar. The Rhenisli boats, more- over, are still as rüde as our punts, being more like small coal- barges than wherries; whilst the oars in use are exactly of tlie shape of bakers' peels, and formed merely out of a small piece of board nailed to the end of a pole. Hence a six- oared turnout, after such a style, would cut even a more barbarous figure on the water, in the 19th Century, than a Madras catamaran. From a like cause yachting has never even been heard of by these European backwoodsmen; so that to them the sight of any craft more elegant or more fast-sailing than a Dutch bärge would be a point of such extreme novelty and wonder as to bring all the wiseacre professors down in a crowd to the shore. Again, from the greater part of the carts being drawn by oxen, and the trucks by men, women, and boys, even horses are comparatively scarce, and equestrian exercise indulged in only by the cavalry and general officers; whilst carriage-airing is confined to the "eine und zwei Spanner" (literally, hackney- cabs with " one or two putters") to be found on the Stands, which last only during the summer, for the accommodation of the foreigners visiting the town. Seidom, however, will a Prussian's purse allow him to know even this recreation; though occasionally the stranger may see some half-dozen of the more prodigal of the officers indulging in the rarity of a ride to Stolzenfels and back, and thus reducing the eighteen- penny fare, by the principle of association, to threepence a- head. Then, certainly, there are the penny - steamboats — little things built out of sheet-iron, so thin that they are no stronger, and hardly more durable, than a tin saucepan; and by these some of the very restless Coblenzers do manage ■ vmmiiwfam 134 DOMESTIC MANNEKS OF THE PKUSSIANS. to get as far away from home as Vallendar or Winningen (about the distance of Chelsea from London). In fine, such is the indisposition of a thorough-bred Ger- man to stir hand or foot, that even a kite is a rarity among the boys, and such active exercise as " prisoner's base" unknown at the schools; whilst among the grown men, we have been credibly informed, many have not yet had energy enough even to mount to the summit of the neighbouring fortress of Ehrenbreitstein. Hence it will be idle to inform the reader that such enter- prising and exciting sports as hunting and racing and steeple- chasing are never carried on in the vicinity of the Rhenish capital,* and that pedestrianism and running-matches are feats of agility seldom or never performed by the Preussen. * It may sound somewhat extravagant to refer the development of railways and electric telegraphs throughout the World to the English love of horse-racing, but thosewho have traced the gradual extension of the facilities of intercommunication can hardly come to any other conclusion. Racing was a populär sport in England from the earliest tiraes. Fitzstephen, who wrote in the days of Henry II. (1154-89), mentions the delight taken by the Citizens of London in the diversion. Charles II. patronised the sport, and gave a silver cup of the value of 100 guineas to the owner of the winning horse ; whilst William III. not only added to " the plates," but founded an academy for riding. All this necessarily tended to direct public attention in England to the improve- ment of the breed of horses generally, so that after the introduction of " Godol- phin," the English racers rose to such perfection that " Flying Childers" (in 1720-30) was universally allowed to be the fleetest horse that had ever been bred in the world, running 4 miles in 6 minutes and 48 seconds, which is at the rate of 35^ miles per hour, or nearly as fast as an English express-train. Then English gentlemen got to feel such pride in the swiftness of their racers that, in 1739 an Act (13 Geo. II.) was passed for suppressing "races by ponies and weak horses; " and subsequently, in 1760, the celebrated horse "Eclipse" appeared on our courses, and he, though not quite so fleet as " Childers," was never beaten by any racer of his time. Such wonderful development of the horse's capabilities, as regards speed, naturally made the nation disgusted with the old method of carrying letters in carts, at the slow rate of some five miles per hour, and thus prepared the govern- ment to adopt the plan of Mr. Palmer of Bath, who, in 1780, first proposed to establish fast coaches or mails, for the conveyance of letters and passengers, 'in». ATHLETIC SPOETS. 135 A very few of the natives, certainly, fish; and in the winter an equally small number have just sufficient life left in them to try a day's shooting. At some of the schools, too, gymnastic games have been introduced, but at these the lolloping, loutish young Deutschers, are not half so nimble as the bear-cubs in climbing the poles at the Zoolo- gical Gardens. Indeed, the sole amusement of the German boys seems to consist in calling after the English lads in jackets, — "Engländer Stumpf-schwänz" (i.e. English Crop-tail), and in striking the little girls they rriay meet in the streets; for your young German is a perfect specimen of the genus coward — lads of 18 and 20 howling like infants throughout the kingdom,— a plan which has since been taken advantage of by every civilised State in Europe. This of course led to tbe general improvement of English stage-coaches, so that, up to the year 1830, the style and speed of our public conveyances, especially those on the Brighton Road, were admitted by all foreigners to be the perfection of taste and convenience. All these things, therefore, naturally fitted the public mind for the reception of an entirely new and still more rapid mode of locornotion, viz. the railway : an invention which is so thoroughly English that, even supposing it likely to have occurred to any slow Prussian brainlet, it would still have been impossible to have found any other nation (excepting perhaps America) with spirit or capital sufficient to have afforded the plan a trial. Still, the rapidity of the railway served to infiame rather than satisfy the English mind. Dear postage was as serious an obstacle to rapid communication as even slow-coaches, (a phrase, by the by, that has grown into a term of oppro- brium with us); consequently, the next step was to reduce the tariff on all home letters to a penny ; and thus, commercially and intellectually speaking, to bring our Land's End within the same distance of the capital as even the metro- politan suburbs ; to place Liverpool in the same close proximity with London as Hammersmith itself, giving it, like the cockney neighbour, its two or three deliveries of London letters per diem. Again, England had to thank no foreign mind for all this ; but, on the contrary, France, and other enlightened countries, seeing the social good of drawing the half-civilised people who exist at the remote part of every nation into closer communion with the more refined and enterprising spirits of the capital, availed themselves of the measure, immediately we had proved it to be practicable. Further, even cheap postage, with its three deliveries daily in towns that onee took a fortnight to reach, was insufficient to satisfy the impatience and activity 136 DOMESTIC MANNEBS OF THE PRUSSIANS. on being made to enter the water; and even young Dutch Goliaths being scared by the mere sight of the fists of some English David. It is but justice to the people, however, to add, that none of those brutal amusements which at once degrade and deprave our own lower orders — such as dog-fighting, prize-fighting, rat-killing, and badger-baiting, &c.—are ever indulged in even by " the dangerous classes;" and though such sports are forbidden by the police, we were assured that scarcely a man would frequent them, were any such exhibition announced to take place in the town. But have the Prussians, it will be asked, no other amuse- of Englishmen. It was still possible to transcend all they had previously done, and to avaü themselves of a means of intercommunication as rapid as even the lightning, and by which it was proved to be possible to outstrip Time itself; so that a message could arrive at a place some minutes before it had left another. We allude, of course, to the Electric Telegraph,—an invention incontestably English, for though Ampere years before had proposed to employ electricity for telegraphic purposes, it was Messrs. Wheatstone and Coolce who really rendered the plan feasible, and laid down the first electric telegraph, in 1837. Such an invention, doubtlessly, could never have been carried out but through the agency of the railways; and as these were essentially English in their character, requiring English capital and English enterprise to develop them; so assuredly the electric telegraph could never have been brought to its present perfection, even if invented in any other country. The land telegraph, however, not only belonged to us, but, as if we would admit no rival to the honour of advancing the clvilisation of the whole human race, the plan for carrying the messages of Europe under the sea was likewise born of Englishmen, fostered by Englishmen, and successfully carried out by them, for the first time, across the British Channel, in November 1851. Now let any one who has dwelt for a length of time among the Prussians endeavour to conceive the possibility of their ever doing any such things as the above,—slow Prussians, who are not yet used to the rapidity of horses, and who, in these days of rapid locomotion, still carry their goods to market in wagons drawn by oxen almost as sleepy as the drivers themselves,—phlegmatic Prussians, whose letters are still conveyed in clumsy coaches, that are so heavy as to require more horses to pull the carriage than to draw both passengers and mail-bags, and whose average speed is considerably less than that of our furniture-vans. THEIR AMÜSEMENTS. 137 ments than eating, drinking, and Smoking? Are there no Exhibitions, no Museum, no Galleries of Art, no Public Lec- tures in the Rhenish capital, by which to give taste and refine- ment to the people ? The answer is — None ! In winter there is, assuredly, a theatre, about as elegant as our Bower Saloon, and where the pit is without seats — the prices ranging from one-and-sixpence to the boxes to about fivepence to the gal- lery.* Then, occasionally, the town is visited by some "Grosse Menagerie," with about as many animals as one may see in a London furrier's shop; f or some wandering show of waxwork, with the dingiest collection of dolls representing the principal Generals in the Crimea, will halt at the city; or maybe a * Coblenz Theatre, Sunday, 2d December, 1855. PROLOGUE Upon the Eve of the Birthday-Feast of Her Royal Highness the Princess Louise. Composed by the Director, Philipp Walburg Kramer. Spoken by Herr Henry Hierauf. lä dtoitti m [p®ßTraa 9 Grand Opera in Five Acts by Auber. Masaniello........Herr Dr. Rademacher, (The Royal Swedish Opera-house Singer from Stockholm.) Pietro..........Herr Thümmel, (From the Town Theatre of Cologne.) Their first appearance. Admission t—Gallery, 4 sgr. (4fy\AM - a/w .Umoruai - ama/vice to«. L ouM«4ve4 tue rwmou/t iWie-u-u, 'leMtect wUiu to ma/K« ki ■■■ ,«**, taife«* ,E™»W: lerf ■0tm jmiiji.-JmiH«" 11 ____ I ;i tt!inlet.iiil4(lj] Freibarg to S. RHEINFELDEN. 247 advertisement is inserted in the local paper, for the benefit of the public in general:— JHamage*&nno inte erneut. (iBelar-etf.) Co our foretgn trieirtlä antf acquat'ntaiueö fterefcü (tu matte) tTje reäpcctful announcement of our to*ttar<'öoIemiu$ett? matrimonial alliance. fflutytim*on*ti)t*j&!t)int, antt JSttm'g, 6tfj Sunt, 1843. Dr. fi!L $>. <& ------ bont 33- (9.) RHEINFELDEN. A few miles above Basel the Rhine ceases to be navigable. The broad, smooth, and placid flood dwindles into a narrow, foaming, and fretful rivulet, and the barges and steamers disappear from its surface, which now looks as desolate as a German street, with nothing but the boats belonging to an occasional ferry or a rüde covered bridge to give the least life to its banks. The journey to the Rhine Falls may be performed by diligence along either side of the Rhine. On the right bank the direct route is from Freiburg to Schaffhausen, and lies through the loveliest parts of the Schwarz- Wald —traversing the sublime ravine of the Höllenthal (Hell Valley), where the rocks tower so high, so steep, and so close on either side of the 248 DOMESTIC MANNEKS OF THE PHUSSIANS. roadway, that tlie " eil-wagen" (etymologically tlie fast coacli, but in fact tlie particularly slow one) seems to be passing along tlie dried-up bed of one of tlie Rhine gorges. By this routc, too, tlie traveller obtains bis first peep of tlie wooden homesteads peculiar to Switzerland, with their broad eaves jntting from tlie sides of tlie liouse like tlie roofs of sheds, and their wooden galleries reminding one of our old " Talbot Luis;" and tlie whole liouse, roofs, sides, and all, covered with wooden slates, as it were, of unpainted deal, tliat are arranged after the fasliion of wafer pen-wipers. Here, too, may be seen tlie little Oberland churches, with their tiny steeples covered with tin-plate, and looking in the distance really like bright metal extinguishers shining in the sun ; and groups of charcoal-burners at work in the forest, with their white eyes and teeth glistening from out their grimy faces as you go by; and the fires burning in bright crimson patches, that contrast finely with the tall ebony Stacks charring beside the roadway. Here, moreover, you stop to take your " Mittag -essen" (mid-day meal) at country inns, where the walls of the "Speisesaal" are literally covered with hundreds of small wooden clocks, the pendulums of which are all wagging at once in different ways, and ticking with such violence that you might fancy there was a colony of crickets in the walls. The other route runs close alongside the Rhine—the sudden twisting and turning of the stream, in its now zigzag course among its bed of rocks, this journey giving it an equal bcauty, though of a wholly different kind from the other— as different as the course of a Valley is from that of a moun- tain-chain. At Basel the Rhine makes an abrupt bend, as at Bingen, and instead of flowing straight on, begins running east and west, in a direction almost at right angles to its former course. EÜEINFELDEN. 249 It continues serpentining along, across tlie bed of the Jura mountains, almost like a vein in marble—being broken up into a numbcr of small cascades or "rapids," rather than "falls"— until it reaches Schaffhausen, where the great liquid avalanche thunders in a broad sheet of snow over its steep step of rock, on its way from the vast Alpine reservoir of the " Boden-See" (Lake of Constanz); above which it comes hurrying down its narrow mountain Channel, winding along from south to north, and thinned into the insignificant dimensions of a brook, rather than partaking of the gigantic capacity of a river fiood. The villages (for they can hardlybe complimented with the name of towns) that border the stream between Basel and Schaffhausen—though somewhat picturesque in their external appearance, give one a wretched sense of the squalor and poverty, as well as the half-civilised character of the people in these parts ; for they are as widely different from the neat- ness of English village homes as is a villa from a wigwam. Rheinfelden is the first hamlet of any note that we reach on our journey to the Falls. It consists merely of one rüde lane-like street—a long, irregulär line of tall, old-fashioned houses, ranged close beside the water — and with the huge green humps of the Schwarz-Wald hüls swelling up close behind it. At the upper end of the town Stands, as usual, the city-gate; a mere isolated square turret, with battle- ments at its top corners, and a large clock over the gateway arch. The town itself has little worthy of notice, if we except that it is built of stones from the neighbouring old Roman settlement of Augusta Rauracorum, and that it contains a handsome column of bronze, doing duty for a fountain, and supporting a standard-bearer with the arms of the town. At the lower end of the village the Rhine (which is hardly wider here than a canal) is crossed, as shown in the engraving, ■ v. ^■Ü^M 250 DOMESTIC MANNERS OF THE PKUSSIANS. by a covered bridge raised upon piers, as dumpy as mushroom- stalks, and the covered way being as rüde as a barn in the in- terior, where it is divided down the middle, after the fashion of a railway shed. The object of these covered bridges it is difficult to divine, but they are peculiar to the Swiss portion of the stream, and almost as dark within as if they were a tunnel under the stream rather than a covered roadway above it. At this part of the river the water is as shallow as a ford, and the green tint harmonises prettily with the flecks of the white waves as it curves and chafes about each impeding stone. There are some rapids close by, too, which cover the river-bed with a white pellicle of foam, and fill the air with a bee-like buzz, for some distance round. This part of the stream bears the name of the "Hell-hook" (Höllhacken), thongli there is little of such an infernal character about the shape of its Channel as to Warrant so forcible a name. At a short distance from the bridge is a kind of island, or mound of rock and earth, rising up out of the middle of the stream. Here formerly stood the old fortress of " Stein," that, like Pfalz by Caub, once formed the island-palace of the ancient Counts of Rheinfelden. Earlier still, this was the residence of King Rudolph of Suabia (the Anti-Emperor Henry IV.), but was ultimately destroyed by the Swiss Con- federates during the battle of St. Jaques, in 1344. Agnes, wife of Berthold IL, Duke of Zahringen by Freiburg, was the last relic of the nobles of Rheinfelden. Formerly Rheinfelden was strongly fortified, and though its walls now seem incapable of holding out against a "park" of pop-guns, and the place appears hardly worth the taking, it was in the middle ages besieged times without number. The famous Duke Bernard of Saxe-Weimar and Johann von Westh fought several battles under its walls in the year 1638— THEIR KESPECT FOK W03IEN. 251 Bernard in the end taking his adversary prisoner, and the Duke de Rohan perishing in the last conflict. The town feil into the hands of the French in 1744, and in 1801 was made over to Switzerland, to which country it now belongs. The population at present numbers only 1500: and how even this small body of individuals manage to exist in a place that is utterly destitute of manufactures, commerce, and even traffic, beyond the daily diligence—the noise of which in the streets seems to startle the people like the railway engine bewilders cattle in the fields—is more than the stranger can possibly divine. Rheinfelden forms one of the four ancient " forest towns" situate in these parts, viz. Rheinfelden, Seckingen, Laufenburg, and Waldshut. §2. RESPECT FOK WOMEN'—DoiTESTIC FeELING AMONG THE MaEEIED ClASSES----DlVOECES----AND PüBLIC VlCE. Among the Eastern nations it is well known that woman was, and indeed is, regarded as a mere animal necessity, — a creature designed to be the object of man's lowest passions rather than his highest and purest affections; and a creature, moreover, that the " blessed Prophet" Mahomet held to be as unworthy of immortality as even the beasts of the field. The refined Greeks, too, whom classical taste would teach us to admire, regarded women from scarcely a higher point of view—considering them inferior to men, and qualified to discharge only the subordinate functions of life. Aristotle 252 DOMESTIC MANNEltS OE THE l'KUSSIANS. states, that the relation of man to woman is that of "governor to subject;" and even the gentle Plato says, that " a woman's virtue consists in managing the house well, and obeying her husband." The " barbarous" Gothic nations, however, valued women more highly, and treated them more respectfully, than the polished states of the East. Women among the Anglo- Saxons were allowed to inherit as well as to transmit landed property; they were permitted to sue and be sued in the Courts of Justice; they shared in all the social festivities; they were present at the meetings of the parliament and the municipal corporations; " and they possessed," says Sharon Turner, from whom we quote, " all that sweet influence which, while the human heart is responsive to the touch of love, they will ever retain in those countries which have the wisdom and urbanity to treat them as equal, intelligent, and independent beings." If this be true of all the ancient Teutonic tribes, the Prussians must have lapsed sadly from the nobility as well as kindliness of the parent stock; for assuredly a German wife of the present day is but a servant, whom the master of the house has the right of cohabiting with, and using, without the inconvenience of wages. Indeed, it is a peculiar verbal illustration of the merely cohabitatory character of the matrimonial State in Germany, that a married lady always speaks of her husband as "her man" — (Mann); and a husband of bis wife as " Jiis woman" — (Frau); there being no special terms in the language to signify either a married lady or gentleman. We have, however, known some Rhenish households where the Frau was treated with the same affection as an English wife, and regarded in every way as the man's partner and equal; where the couple not only possessed MATRIMONIAL GEIEF. 253 everything in common, but thouglit in common ; and where, instead of individual or selfish interests, there liad grown to be, through love, one common good. These, however, it must in truth be added, are but ex- ceptional cases, and what we have stated above refers, \ve repeat, to the general tone of society rather than to individual examples. In Coblenz we knew among the townsmen one who had been thrice married, and when he was questioned as to bis inducement for entering so often into the matrimonial State, he was candid enough to confess that, being a teacher of music as well as the keeper of a music-shop, he required some one, whom he could trust, to attend to "the business" during his absence from home, and therefore had wedded three wives, or rather three shop-women. Nor is this merely an isolated case: on the contrary, it is by no means uncommon for a widower in Coblenz, if he have many children, to commence looking for a second "marriage partner" as soon as the funeral ceremonies in connexion with his first are completed. When we were first infonned of this fact we exclaimed, as you, doubtlessly, do, English reader—"Surely it cannot be true!" " And why not ?" inquired our simple German informant, by way of reply. " What is the poor man to do? He must a servant have his 'Kinder'' to look after. Oh, no, we do not nothing of it here think. I would the same myself do if my fran was to die to-morrow." Now surely there can be little feeling in a nation where it is customary (rather than extraordinary or unnatural) for a man to marry within a month after the death of his former wife — before, indeed, he has accustomed his mind to the terrible absence of his "marriage partner" from tho house — before the poor creature's funeral knell can be well out 254 DOMESTIC MANNERS OF THE PBUSSIANS. of his ears, and her last look out of his mind's eye. To place another "woman" in the bed in which a week or two before his wife had died—and which, surely, even in the numbest brain, must revive a sense of the lost one's death- struggles—seems so intensely horrible to our natures, that it is impossible to believe wretches who are capable of such enor- mities to be instinct with the same emotions as ourselves. Further, in illustration of the tone of feeling existing between German men and women, \ve may add, that wo were once in Company with a party of young German ladies, one of whom wore her betrothal ring, and on the circumstance being alluded to, another, who had none, told us that she did not envy her friend, as she was affianced to a German. " You," she said, " are married, I have heard, and so I can teil you without seeming bold, that I would rather marry an Englishman than the best, the wisest, or the richest man in all Germany." At first we regarded the speech as a mere compliment, but when we sought the reason for the young lady's preference for an English husband, our own observations taught us that there was too much truth in all she said to think of attributing her remarks to mere politeness. " You Englishmen," she proceeded, " do not leave your wives to mope at home alone every evening, while you go out to drink wine, and smoke, and feast, by yourselves, as the Germans do; and when you walk out together your wife takes your arm, and you keep her by your side as if you really cared for her. I am told, too, that in England the houses, even of your merchants and tradespeople, are more comfortable and pleasant inside than our palaces; and that of a winter's evening the whole family sit by the fire together, while the daughters play, and sing, or read aloud; and that, THEIR LOTE OF HOME. 255 indeed, it is as uncommon for the English husband to pass an evening away from home as it is for a German one to remain after dusk among bis family." This may sound harsh and exaggerated, perhaps, to some English ears, but those who have spent any time in " Rheinland," and have had means of judging as to the domestic State of feeling among the Rhenish Prussians, will readily agree with us, that in Germany home-feeling, and indeed the home- virtues which are so essentially distinctive of English life and English character, are comparatively unknown among the modern Teutonic tribes. "How long have you been in Coblenz?" said a Rhenish philosoph (!) on being introduced to us some months after our arrival there. " Nearly six months," we replied. " Lieber Gott! and I have never seen you at the Casino!" This exclamation the philosopher uttered as if he thought it was impossible for human existence to be continued unless the latter part of the day were passed in the big Coblenz " pot- house," nicknamed a club; and yet the "wieser" had a family like ourselves, though he delighted, perhaps, to astonish his befuddled fellow-townsmen with his scientific braggadocio about oxygen and hydrogen, rather than to cultivate the mind and affections of his own flesh and blood at home. Indeed, rather than one common interest and common heart pervading every Deutsch household, there are as many different desires as there are different individuals composing it. Again, the Germans are utterly deficient in that chivalry of feeling towards the weaker sex which makes every educated man in England regard women as persons whom the AI- 256 nOMESTIO MANNERS OF THE TEUSSIANS. mighty, by his very Constitution of them, has exempted from all the rougher forms of labour; and though tliese leaden-pated Preussen affect an admiration for the poetic forms of nature, it is difficult to make them understand how it is man's duty to wrest the subsistence both of himself and wife from the Clements around him. " But why should not women work as well as men?" the uncivilised boobies will ask you, though you know imme- diately, by the question, that it is hopeless to make such crea- tures feel the reason. Accordingly, in Prussia, most of the husbandry work is performed by women. In the vine-countries the women carry heavy loads of manure up the steep mountain-sides, and in the towns and at the river-side you will pass them harnessed like beasts of bürden, and dragging after them carts or vessels, that with us horses only are used to draw. Again, in the streets you will see the scavengers' work done by the gentler sex; and, indeed, females performing every kind of office to which we should consider it unmanly to put a woman. Hence it is not to be wondered at, that where so low an esteem for the female character prevails, the weaker sex are not considered to be naturally sacred from blows at the hands of those whose strength should be used to protect rather than injure them. A German argues, that if a woman can work as well as a man, she ought to be able to defend herseif in the same manner; so that, though even the schoolboys in England believe it to be the climax of cowardice to strike a girl, your German gentleman finds no lack of heroism in the act. Hence it is not at all unusnal to see some urchin, while returning from school to his " Mittag-essen " (mid-day meal), hit some little girl in the face until the blood spirts from her nose. Nor does the cowardly act excite the least indignation in the minds of the passers-by: for tliough the poor little thing goes scream- THEIR CHIVALRIC FEEL1N0S. 257 ing tlirough the streets, with its mouth crimson with the effects of the blow, not one Prussian will stay to hecd or lielp her. Our own child was treated in a similar manner, from mere brutal wantonness, whilst Coming from her lessons, and we were assured it was useless appealing to the police, for the "Polizei" troubles its head with no such trifles. Indeed, whilst we are writing, an English friend has just stepped in to teil us that he has seen a hulking boy strike a girl over the mouth with a thick stick, and that the Coblenzers were astonished to see the Engländer snatch the cane from the lout and thrash him soundly for the act. We ourselves have seen a female draggod along the street by two armed policemen, and witnessed, too, because she was loth to be carried to prison, that her movements were quickened by sundry kicks from the heavy boots of the Prussian gens-d'armes. Further, we have been credibly assured that it was customary at the Coblenz Casino for the Steward to enforce obedience to his Orders by blows dealt out, with strict impartiality, to the waitresses, as well as waiters. Moreover, when it is re^> membered that Austria is not widely different from Prussia, and that in the former eountry flourished Haynau, the field- marshal who delighted in maltreating women, we can readily understand how the same cowardice should prevail in the latter kingdom; and how English draymen should be so much superior to German officers and gentlemen in this respect, that they should be able to give a rough, but still impressive lesson upon humanity, to these mean-hearted Deutsch generals. From such a picture of the internal economy of a Rhenish household, as well as the State of feeling throughout Rhenish society, the reader will not be astonished to learn that divorces are by no means uncommon, especially as they are vol. 11. s 258 DOMESTIC MANNERS OF TUE l'RUSSIANS. cheap; and perhaps the State is sufficientl}' needy and com- mercial to make " an allowance if a quantity be taken." The Divorce question is one that appears to lie at the very foundation of social decorum; and it certainly admits of doubt whether divorces "for the million" are quite as good an Institution as music, or even pine-apples, for the same large class. Is it politic for a State to admit of temporary marriagcs—to allow people to take a wife as they Job a carriage—by the day, month, or year?—(to make divorces easy of attainment amounts to the same thing)—or, in other words, is it advisable to relax the stringency of the marriage contract, and reduce the necessity of conjugal life to the liberty of cohabitation ? There is no decree of Providence more merciful than that which has ordained that the wanton should be harren, and thus made the propagation of the human race to depend upon the continuous rather than the promiscuous intercourse of the sexes. Hence marriage has been rendered a necessity, for the sake of the future family; for, as there is no other young animal that remains in a State of helplessness so long as a human being, and the rearing of the children has been specially confided to the woman (the weaker creature of the two), it is obvious that the man was designed to continue with the family, with the view of providing a living for them, and hence that the husband and wife were never meant to be united for a time merely. Still, a great difficulty arises with " ill-assorted alliances," —as to whether the marriage, under such circumstances, should not be annulled, and the parties freed from the con- tinual irritation of their chains. In cases of crime it is ad- mitted that such a course should be pursued, but in cases of " dissension" it is still doubted by some whether it be ex- pedient to put an end to the union. But, say those who THE DIVORCE QUESTION. 259 take an opposite view of the matter, why drive peoplo to crime before you grant them their liberty ? If, however, divorces are obtainable upon the plea of incompatibility of temper, a matrimonial squabble may be ranked under that category; and, surely, to make marriages revocable for a mere difference of opinion is to make the tenure of the wife as doubtful as that of the concubine. Again, if it be expedient to allow the rieh to enjoy the privilege, why, in the name of justice, should the poor be denied the luxury ? In flne, why shouldn't divorces be as easy of attainment as summonses at police-courts ? and if so, how many months think you, intelligent reader, would be the average duration of the union ? or how long would it be before the state of English female society sank to the degraded level of the Continent? In Germany, divorces are obtained by a legal process as simple and inexpensive as an action at law with us; and this " divorce-made-easy " System may perhaps be a necessary consequence, not only of the mode in which marriages are contracted in that country (without the least choiee on the part of the lady), but owing also to the fact that a girl before marriage has no more'liberty allowed her than if she belonged to a harem ; whereas, after marriage she is free, even to licen-^ tiousness, to act as she please. Mr. Drummond, the Member of Parliament, (he who, it is said, has a knife and fork laid at his table every day in expeetancy of the re-advent of the Messiah,) told a story in the House of Commons of a Teutonic whist-party, at which the partners consisted of the husbands and wivos, past and present, of two couples that had been divorced. A friend of our own, too, assured us that he once knew as many as four distinet families belonging to one man and wife. The "man" had been married thrice, and his second s2 260 DOMESTIC MANNEHS OF TUE l'KÜSSIANS. frau, from wliom he had been divorced, was still alive; all the threc wives, too, had borne him children. The " wo- man," on the other hand, had beeil married twice, and divorced from her first husband, who was still alive. She, likewise, had had a family by each marriage. The names of the children, for sake of illustration, we will assume to be as follows:— Otelia, aged 18 years, daughter of the husband by the first wife. „ „ „ secondwife. son of the wife by the first husband. daughter „ „ „ son of the wife by the second husband, and consequently son of the husband by the third wife. 3 months, son of the husband by the third wife. Mina, „ 12 Agatha, „ 10 Karl, „ 19 Marie, „ 18 Ernst, „ 2 Ottocar, All these families dwelt in one house, or rather on one floor together, and with the man's own mother among the tribe; whilst the husband and wife lived, as our friend styled it, " like cat and dog;" and truly, had they been those animals in a state of metempsycliosis, they could hardly have had a more indiscriminate progeny. In cases of divorce it is customary to divide the family almost after the manner of "gavel-kind"— share and share alike — the man taking the boys and the woman the girls. Whefher it be owing to the facility afforded for obtaining divorces, or whether it be from utter indifference on the part of the married folk, matrimonial squabbles (so far as we have been able to judge, and others, who had better means of Coming to a conclusion on the subject, werc of the same opinion) are public vice in women. 261 not so frequent as in England. Certamly in the house in wliich wo lived, though there were some four couples located in it, we were never once disturbed by the least "family jar;" and English friends dwelling in German households have told us that they never overheard any dispute between man and wife. Hence, according as we attribute the domestic tranquillity to the one or other of the above causes, so must we admit either that the dread of a divorce places a considerable re- straint on the temper of the parties, or eise that a deficiency of affection is not calculated to produce the same misunder- standings among married people as a greater amount of attachment. The latter, we imagine, is the principal cause. Jealous persons, for example, may be said to have an excess of love, and yet in what house is there so little peace as where this feel- ing prevails between the better and the worser half? Thus it would appear, that when the passions are cooled down to callousness, and the wife is regarded merely as a scrvant, whilst the husband is recognised as the master wliom she is bound to obey, a State of slavishness is likely to be engen- dered, amid which dissensions must be of rare occurrence. This, we are convinced, is one of the keys to Rhenish domestic tranquillity;—in a word, the peace at home is owing to "phlegm" rather than love. In the Rhenish capital, it must be admitted, there certainly appears to be little of what is styled " public vice" in con- nexion with women. It is not right, however, to infer from such a phenomenon that female virtue is higher in Germany than in England; for, according to the best accounts we could obtain, we should be inclined to conclude that it was at a much lower ebb-—German married ladies acting, we were assured, quite as loosely as French ones. The con- jugal indifference, too, which, as we have said, generally 262 DOMESTIC MANNERS OF THE PRÜSSIANS. prevails between the heads of each Rhenisli family, would lead us to assume that tliere was some truth in the assertion; for love is essential to a woman's existence, and it is but natural, that if she fail to obtain it at the hands of him from whom it is her due, she will seek it clsewhere — especially when from marital neglect she be left free to do so. Whether such really be the case or not in Germany, we have no positive knowledge. France is said, with a fine Rochefoucauld morality, to be "the Paradise of married women " — French wives being allowed an extent of liberty tantamount to licentiousness. The French wives, however, are notoriously incontinent; and they are so, we believe, partly from the reason we have here given. Nevertheless, as the German ladies appear to be of much colder natures than the French, the chances are, that they would bear neglect with less peril to their morals. The German youths, however, have certainly less amorous propensities than our young countrymen ; for it is well known to residents in Prussia, that at many of the " Student Societies" in the University-towns the youthful members agree among themselves to impose a fine of some few thalers upon any one indulging in immoral practices. Moreover, the young men with whom we ourselves were acquainted during our stay in the country seemed to be as thoroughly free from all lascivious notions as fish; while, on the other hand, the middle-aged and elderly gentlemen were fond of indulging in gross allusions and indecent discourse, even in the presence of ladies. But a still more cogent reason as to why less public vice exists in the Rhenish capital than any English town is simply because it is not permitted by the police. The few infamous houses that formerly existed in the city have recently been prohibited by the Government. Nor are any " ladies of the pave" allowed. Such females as are found guilty of offences LOOKING BENEATn TnE STJEFACE. 2fi3 against public morals have a broom put into their hands, and are sot to sweep the streets. Still human nature will have its vvay — despite of the "Polizei-Direction;" and we were credibly assured by a pro- fessor, that since the repeal of the soldiers' houses in Coblenz the number of illegitimate children has considerably increased. Again, almost all the " respectable old gentlemen" are well known to have some young mistress secreted in the town; so that though, as in Paris, judging from the streets, one would imagine the city to be far more moral than a monastery, still, immediately we begin to look beneath the surface, we find that the decency, as with many other social forms now- a-days, is merely outside show after all. All those who have troubled their heads with the Solution of the more difficult social problems know füll well, that every civilized Community must choose between one of three bitter evils ; for, so long as human nature prevails, there must be, in every State, either (1) illegitimate children, or (2) public women, or (3) early marriages; and certainly it is hard to decide which is the least dangerous to the well- being of the Community. Clergymen, of course, are advocates for the last-mentioned; but " Economists," on the other hand, declare that alliances contracted before the parties have arrived at years of dis- cretion—and consequently before they have the means of providing subsistence for their future families—tend not only to flood the country with paupers and criminals, from the neglect of the children, but, by over-populating the nation, to reduce the price of labour so as to render subsistence difficult even for the prudent. Moreover it is urged, that at an early age the passions have not yet come under the control of the moral principle, and the young man, mistaking 264 DOMESTIC MANNEBS OF TUE PKUSSIAN8. last for love, inseparably ties himself to a young woman, and finds out, when it is too late, the vast difference between an evanescent animal appetite and a pure permanent affec- tion. Then he soon gets to feel the bürden of a partner, for whom he has neither intellectual nor moral admiration; and then ensue all those domestic dissensions and that neglect of öffspring which proceed from ill-assorted natures at home. Economists, therefore, think " public women" a lesser evil than either youthful alliances or illegitimate children — the latter being essentially the class from which the thieves and vagabouds of every Community are recruited, for it is proved by prison statistics that juvenile crime is simply the result of defective parental control. Nor should the holders of these opinions, in making such a selection among the three evils, be considered as exhibiting a preference for immoral courses. If they be wrong, their error can but proceed from a mistaken view as to what really constitutes the welfare of a nation, since it is merely a sense of this welfare that prompts them to make the choice; and assuredly they may, while so doing, regret, as much even as clergymen themselves, the necessity for the existence of any such evils. Once more, then, we say, that Governments must make up their minds to submit to one of the above three social ills; and though the authorities of Coblenz have decided that no public women shall exist " within the walls," still it would appear, from the statistics of the town, that they have merely given an undue impetus by such means,' not only to the maintenance of private mistresses among the wealthier classes, but to the increase of illegitimate children among the poorer; whilst from the latter result they must naturally expect to reap a more abundant crop of paupers and criminals in after years. i: ■■■■■ , I fciuil 'y ■--'..:. LA.UFENBUKG. 265 intci'pMeft $Ipis|r Stencs. (10.) LAUFENBURG. The rapids here (and fine as they are, they deserve no other title) are termed " the Lesser Falls "—the name of the place being literally " the City of the Current" (Germ. Laufen, to run). It is here that the chain of the " Jura " hüls traverses the stream, the Rhine separating what is termed the " Swiss Jura," from the Suabian ränge of the same name. The bed of the river is no longer silty, nor even pebbly, but has now the appearance of a huge stone trough or artificial Channel, as it were, roughly hewn out of the solid rock, the large blocks of which slant up from the water-side, and being of a delicate pink colour (like the lining of a sbell, indeed) contrast finely with the deep sea-green tint of the stream. The Rhine here reminds one somewhat of the Wye between Bronllys and Builth in Breconshire, but the water is infi- nitely finer, being positively like liquid green glass, and tearing along the narrow gorge, or stone throat as it were, just beyond the bridge, with all the foam and fine fury of a mountain torrent. Though the banks widen into a half-lacustrine expanse a little below the town, and the current there makes the very air simmer again with the continual seething of its shoals—here the channel is like an enormous mill-shoot, and the water like a wraith of white spray; for so narrow is the passage between the rocks that it seems literally but a hop, skip, and a jump, from one side or shelf of crags to the other. Indeed, a few years ago a professional gymnasiast sprang from bank to bank — with a pole some say, and others declare without — the distance at the narrowest point being but 5| yards. 266 DOMESTIC MANNEES OF THE TKUSSIANS. It is impossible even for small boats to descend the stream at this point without being gradually let down by stout ropes, fastened to gibbet-like posts fixed into the rocks; the cargo, of course, whether live or otherwise, being first removed. But the old German topographer, Merian, whowrote in 1642, speaks of the practice of crossing the river in small boats at this part, as being by no means uncommon in his day; he adds, however, that summer is a dangerous season for making the attempt— owing to the stream being fuller at that period from the melting of the Alpine snows. Certain it is that a young English nobleman (Lord Montague, and the last of his line) was drowned here while descending the rapids in a skiff— even with a rope attached to it and guided from the bank—■ and that, by a curious coineidence, on the same day as his country seat in Sussex was burnt to the ground. Laufenburg itself is but a poor place, with merely 900 inhabitants. It was formerly the second of the " forest towns " on the left bank of the river—the other two (Seckingen and Waldshut) lying in the territory of Baden, on the opposite shore. Here, in ancient times, stood an old Castle — the castle of "Oftring"—that belonged to the Hapsburg-Stauffenbergs, a younger branch of the reigning house of Austria. Its ruined Square turret is now all that remains of the building. You can see it (yide engraving), perched on the hill-side, just behind the tall tower of the Pfarr-kirche (parish-church), and with the fir-tree sprouting from the top of it—like a broom put up at the mast-head of a ship for sale. The little town is divided, as usual, into two opposite moieties, rejoicing in the names of Grosse (!) and Klein. The mud-walled houses are all squeezed up together (like sheep under a bank in a storm), the great half on onc shore and the little half on the other. LAETENBURG. 267 In true Rhenish fashion, even tliis old ricketty place has its fortress-gatcs by whicli to entor the " city." You can just dis- tinguish the belfry-capped roof of the " Pforte " in the picture, rising above the little crowd of slates on the side of the church next the Rhine. The diligence passes under the narrow arch- way (no bigger than a country church-door) of this gate, whose walls are still flanked with the remains of "rondels," and brings us to a small triangulär "Platz" (we suppose we must call it so), where it draws up in front of the Post Inn to change horses. From this part of the town, a longish narrow lane-—the " Haupt-Strasse" of the place, and not unlike our Holywell Street on a Sunday—Stretches down to the Rhine bridge, a crazy old thing, half-covered and half-open, and the covered part not unlike the long low sheds that boat-builders are wollt to work in. Looking up the stream, the river is seen flowing, or rather sliding along, in one broad sheet, dimpled all over with eddies, transparent and green as a plate of "aqua marine;'" but, just before reaching the bridge, it contracts to one-fourth its size, and then comes rushing through the red grey rocks, that form, as it were, a rough and craggy pavement, the thick slanting flags or slabs of which seem to be thrust in end uppermost. Through this the deep torrent of the flood pours, like a stream of lather, with a loud buzz, curving along in its current, and running close under the walls of the houses, so that it is impossible to see many yards of its course. Along the banks here we found workmen busy cutting a tunnel through the solid stone of the hill, and cows dragging the wagons füll of rubbish along the new railway lines. Above this point not a thing was to be seen on the sui-face of the water, but below were two or three small punts and a little floor of a raft, destined to grow into a large island of 268 DOMESTIC MANNEES OF THE rEUSSIANS. pine-stems before it reachcd the lower Rhine. The raft lay close in front of the forest on the bank, where the ground was littered with the long trunks of trees that had been recently felled—the axes of the wood-cutters flashing in the light between the stems as the coach rolled by—and where, as usual, we saw the customs officer, in bis deep-caped cloak, seated officially on a neighbouring log, and Smoking bis china-bowled pipe in fine governmental ease. § 3. Customs at Birth —" Wickel-jiind"-hood — Feeling between Fathee and Son — "Clanship." The Prussian customs at the time of birth have but little peculiar about them. The announcement of the event, however, is usually made in so different a manner from that in which we give publicity to an increase in a family, that we will once more take an extract from the German newspapers. Here, for instance, is a curious (and not particularly delicate) outburst of paternal pride:— (Earli) tosttag nu> tttav üjtfe, Crlt^afcttft JM., boni ä> -----, aftcr a happ« atrtl caäv Üttt'bcn), "ÖcIfgljU'Ö nu luitlj a libcl» aivü ötroitg l)oi), toljtdj J fco m$&If tljc Ijonour to annouti« to mj> tltätant fttnx'Qä anb* acquatntanccS. Cöln, ttjiö 12th dfrtnuan), 1855. raitlljclm ffl ------, aaafetant at tlje Moi>al Poät. CUSTOMS AT BIRTII. 269 The babies in Prussia are usually handed over as soon as born to the tender mercies of a Saug-amme (suckling nurse), for German women are far too selfish to allow thcmselves to be troubled with tbe suckling of their own offspring; and though this wretched custom prevails among our own fine ladies to a greater extent tban is creditable to us as a nation, still we are glad to say, that our middle-class wives have, as yet, sufficient natural feeling left to nurse their infants themselves. In Germany, however, it is far diflferent. "What! does your aunt suckle her own child?" said a German maid to our little girl. " Why, the poorest lady in Germany would think it a disgrace !" In Rhineland, almost nine out of every ten women, if they be only sufficiently well-to-do to afford the " luxury," hire some deputy-mother for their little ones, and seem to regard the funetion which is, perhaps, in all the economy of nature, the most wondrous provision of the Almighty's loving-kind- ness (making, as it does, the very food of the child spring into existence at the same moment as itself), as a cruel tax, instead of a high benevolence, in connexion with a mother's duties. So that all the fine development of affection which has been ordained to be associated with the sustenance of the little one, is reduced to a sad waste of social machinery for binding being to being. Verily, too, there is in the creation of this same mother's milk so much of love and wisdom comprised, that it seoms to us to be absolutely impious in a woman to refuse to make use of it. Even chemically considered, it is the most exquisite nutriment that human imamnation can coneeive, containino; as it does every dement of the body—bones, muscles, and nerves — in the best possible form for being assimilated: whilst, morally considered, it is a source of such strong 270 DOMESTIC MANNEES OF THE PEUSSIANS. attachment both to the nourisher as well as the nourished (linking the parent with the child as fast as it does the child with the parent), and so intimately connected with that inexplicable maternal instinct, which is assuredly a woman's greatest glory, that ladies who do not hesitate to deprive their offspring of this their special birthright appear to us to have lost all that tenderness of nature, without which a woman is utterly unsexed. Then the motives which prompt the mother to hand her child over to a foster-woman betray the grossest selfishness and meanness of disposition. Either nursing will spoil the lady's figure—or it will interfere with her rest at night—or prevent her going to parties, &c. &c. For such paltry reasons as these the great scheme of Moral Nature is thrown out of its course and the highest duty ignored. For the poor woman who sells her child's nourishment, there is the excuse of poverty and temptation — for the rieh who buys it, none but laziness and vanity. This System of wet-nursing, too, is intimately connected with bastardy, since no decent married woman, even in Ger- many (where there is a greater greed for money than in any other nation with which we are acquainted), likes to seil the nutriment of her own child; and we have been assured by many respectable people, that the greater portion of the Prus- sian Saug-ammen are women of loose character—whom, never- thelcss, German ladies do not scruple to introduce into their families, in order to prevent any infantine interference with either their slumbers or their pleasures. To English minds, the infant costume of Prussia seems about as enlightened as that adopted by the Indian squaws, who convert their babies into kinds of human chrysales, encasing them, as it were, in a hard shell of bandages, that SWADDLINß CLOTHES. 271 allow them no more freedom of motion than can be enjoyed by a young maniac in a strait-jacket. Increased knowledge in " wweducated " England has taught mothers, that if there be a being on eartli that requires liberty of limb, it is the little human creature whose frame is destined, when allowed to be properly developed, to expand itself into that of a man. In " educated Germany," however (where, by the by, there are more dwarves and more idiots than in any other part of the globe), mothers have still to leam, that if the limbs of children be swathed in cloths like mummies, the growth of the tissues must be more or less impeded — in the same manner as a Chinese woman's foot comes to be un- naturally stunted by the mere compression of the part. Nor does the swaddling of children injure the youthful frame by pressure alone; for every one with us is well aware that exercise of limb is necessary for the due increase of the muscles, and bodily activity required for the maintenance of health. It is lamentable, however, to see how much the German people have still to learn upon such matters; and we know of no more melancholy sight than a Prussian baby bound hand and foot in its costume of a " Wickel-kind." It is impos- sible for minds that have any sense of the tender nature of such creatures, not to feel acutely for the sufferings that the little things must undergo in such a State. When we think of the extreme irritability of the whole body at such an age, and of the high temperature of the tiny frame—bordering, in- deed, almost on fever; and when we call to mind, too, the utter inability of the poor babes to protect themselves, we are roused to indignation at the thought of the tortures they must be subject to, both in the stifling heat they must experience and the painful cramps they must undergo, from the continual constraint of their tender little limbs. 272 DOJIESTIC MANNEBS OF THE PKTTSSIANS. But we forget, in tlie fary of our disgust, to place the reader in tlie same circumstances as ourselves, and to give him a definite notion of what these same " Wickel-kinder" really are. Among the sliady walks of tlie " Glacis " outside the forti- fications tliat environ tlie town of Coblenz, you may see dozens of tliem any fine day, carried by their Westerwald wet-nurses, whom you may know by the long, broad, black ribbons, Streaming from the crown of their head. At the first glance you have a notion that the nurse is carrying a cushion in her arms, for you perceive merely a white pillow-case with a deep frill or border to it. As you approach, however, you discover that a wretched little infant is packed up in the squab some- how, for you can just see its tiny ball of a head—and its head only, mind !—peeping out of what is called the "Steckbett" and which, literally rendered, means the bed into which the child is stuck. After the first impression has worn off, the apparatus appears to be more like a large squab of a watch-pocket, into the fob of which the poor little infant has been crammed. Now, with your permission, gentle reader, we will play the Pettigrew, and proceed to unroll this tiny Deutsch mummy. In the first place, what is called the " StecJc-bett," is not very unlike, but much larger than, the large slipper used with us in carriages for thrusting the feet into during cold weather. The entire body of the infant is stuffed into this apparatus, which is usually made up of carpet and covered with a white dimity or coloured chintz case. On removing the stiff shell, as it were, we find that the poor little being within it is wound round and round with bandages, after the fashion of a brigand's legs; so that as the head only of the wretched infant is seen above tlie hard roll, that gradually tapers off towards the feet, the Wickel-kind strikes you as the very model of a baby Caryatides. SWADDLING-CLOTHES. 273 The outer bandage, whicli is called the " Windel," is as long as the pennant to a " man-of-war," and about as wide as a hat-band, and is wound spirally about the body, after the manner of the ribbons painted on a barber's pole. When we have unrolled this we come to the " Steck-tuch" that is to say, the inner cloth in which the child is enveloped. It consists of a white quilted wrapper, not unlike a liome- made wadded counterpane, and in it the babe is liermetically sealed, as it were, with its little arms imprisoned in the folds tight against its sides, and its legs bound down straight and close together. The swathing-cloths are removed only once in 24 hours, during all which time the poor little thing remains stewing amid its own ejections; so that really the strictest precautions are thus taken, not only that the infant should move neither band nor foot, but that the little strength of which its frail life is made up should be steamed out of it by incessant perspirations. To the listless, inactive Deutsch women, however, such a mode of swaddling is agreeable, as it saves them all the trouble of dandling and dancing the child; for the baby, packed up as it is, can be stood against the wall, or even hung upon a peg, like an old coat—as, indeed, they often are. Nor is the torture of this barbarous " Wickel" apparatus in the least mitigated until three long months of absolute motionlessness have passed, and then the little prisoner is allowed to have its arms free for the first time since its birth. Its lower extremities, however, do not obtain this blessed privilege, until another three months of the same inconceiv- able torments have been endured. Now, during our stay in Coblenz, we happened to know an English gentleman who was suffering from anasarca, or dropsy under the skin, and part of the treatment to which hr vol. II. T „j» --.•?*.■.—. 274 DOMESTIC MANNEHS OF THE PRUSSIANS. was subjectcd by bis German physician consisted in being tightly rolled up in birch-leaves and blankets, in whicb lie had to remain for only seven bours every day. But though tbis gentleman was an officer in our army, so tbat bravery was bis profession, he assured us that the agony induced by such treat- ment was abnost morc than he had strength of mind or body to bear. Indeed, we know it so exhausted bim, tbat bis medical ad viser was obliged to allow him an interval of rest for a few days after eacb week's perseverance in the practice. Surely, tben, unless our minds be besoddened with German prejudices, we can form a faint conception of the exquisite suffering that must be inflicted upon a tender, irritable little creature, like a new-born baby, on being subjectcd to a swaddling, which even a soldier has not power, nor barely courage enough, to persist in. And yet this goes on in what Mr. Cobden would have us believe to be " educated Germany !" ■ "But baven't you a number of cripples in England?" we were coolly asked by a native, after explaining to the booby that English people looked upon this swaddling of -young children as a remnant of barbarism. As a further proof, howevcr, that the manners and customs of the Germans of the present day are those which we dis- cardcd a hundred years ago, we may quote the following from a work entitled " The Eigliteenth Century; or, Illuslrations of the Manners and Customs of our Grandfathers :"— " Tliere was a belief among grandams and nurses," it says, " that infants' bones and joints required extraordinary external support, and consequently ample provisions were made to pre- vent sprains and dislocations by the baby-limbs being put in a sort of frame-work, composed of whalebone, wood, and strings. The chin had a pillow for its support, which went by the name of' chin-stays,' and from this bandage a strap was passed down SWADDLIiNG-CLOTHES. 275 to the breast, and was called ' a gop,' serving to preserve the head from an undue inclination backwards. Then each sleeve was fastened tightly down to the side, lest the arms should be diverted from their true position; and the gristle of the legs was left to harden into bones and muscles within a strong casing. Around the child was affixed a small ' päd' resembling a bolster, stuffed with some soft and elastic substance, wliich was to answer the same purpose as the 'fender' of a steam- vessel or 'buffer' of a railway-carriage, and preserve it from apprehended bruises, contusions, and lacerations, from a col- lision with the floor or corners of the tables; and when the day of unbinding, unstrapping, and nncasing the infant did arrive, it was quite a domestic festival."—P. 46. But tliis custom of swathing infants is as old as the Romans, and even the Indians have from time immemorial treated their papouses in the same manner. The following engraving, copied from one in Dr. Smith's Roman Antiquities, shows tlie manner in which the ancient Roman motliers were wont to bind up their babies hke young mummies; and the pic- tnre is exactly similar to the ap- pearance of Rhenish Wiclcel-hind to this day. There is a populär saying in the Rhenish villages, that every child born always brings something with it; and to maintam belief in the saw, it is customary for the children of the family and neighbours to be called in on the birth of an infant, and each presented with a trifling present, which is duly recorded as the gift brought by Fkau Dingskuhchen's baby. The children often, while showing their toys to one t 2 276 DOMESTIC MANNEBS OF THE PEUSSIANS. another, say, " This is what Feau Wieheisst's baby brougbt mc," and "This came with the becker's kindchen," and so on. As with most primitive nations, there appears to be a strong feeling of " clanship," or attachment, throughout the various members of a family in Germany. This love of kindred extends even to remote cousins; so that a newly-married lady, though she will hardly tbink it worthy of her to pay attention to her husband, would consider herseif as utterly deficient in all the better feelings of human nature if she were not to lavish every resource of her house upon the reinotest relative wbo visited her. Again, it is well known that the Germans, on leaving tbeir parents, soon become afflicted with "Heim-weh" (home-sick- ness), all of which, it may be urged, shows strong affections, rather than that callousness of temperament which we have asserted to prevail throughout a German household. So we ourselves argued when we knew the people less; but closer Observation has taught us that this love of kindred among the Germans is an educated rather than a natural sentiment: or, in other words, the sons and daughters love their fathers and mothers because they are taught that it is rigbt to do so, and certainly not from any remembrance of past kindnesses experienced at their hands. Indeed, filial aff'ection in Germany appears to be mere sentiment — an artificial kind of feeling, into which the intellect, backed by a faint sense of propriety, has scliooled the beart, and not a spontaneous emotion naturally begotten in answer to the love shown to the child during its youth. In England, children love their parents simply because their father and mother have, generally speaking, been the best friends they have evcr known, and who not only watched TIIEIR SELFISHNESS. 277 over arid protected them in their helplessness and weakness, but wlio sliared with them almost eveiy comfort and luxury that industry or prudence was enabled to obtain. But if English fathers behaved as selfishly as German ones, assuredly English children, with the liberty of thought current througliout the countiy, would soon get to question the paternal love f'or them; and seeing in the greediness of the father but little affection on his side, would ultimately come to regard him with but little affection in return. In Prussia, however, all are of too phlegmatic a nature to be emotional upon any such matters; and as marital indifference leads to perfect toleration between man and wife, and toleration begets domestic tranquillity, even so with German children, after many years' association with their parents, a vague feeling of regard naturally Springs iip in the mind for the persons with whom they have passed almost all their lives—such, indeed, as wo in England feel for the animals that frequent our hearths. In illustration of the selfishness pervading every member of a German family, we may cite the following curious little history. A young friend of ours, during the fair, purchased some cakes, and presented them to the father of a family, to whom he was under some slight obligations, and whom he knew to have rather a penchant for pastry. To his utter astonishment (for our young friend was an Englishman, and unprepared for the act) the paterfamilias, on receiving the bag of confec- tionery, said he would " lock it up in his desk," urging that then he could eat it by himself "just as he wanted, unknown to anybody." Now, our friend had naturally intended the present to be shared with the Deutscher's wifo and daughter, and was fairly taken aback by the piggislmess. However, the youth was 278 DOMESTIC MA.NNEBS OF TUE PRTJSSIANS. determined tliat the German ladies sliould not go without their sliarc of the good tliings; so he returncl to the fair, and buying another packet of tlie same toothsome articles, hastened to carry them to tlie wife, feeling assured tliat she, at least, would divide them witli her child. But tlie lady informed him, in a wliisper, tliat she would keep them for herseif in her closet, as tliat child of hers was so greedy after pastry that she would want them all. To gain a thorough insight into tlie character of tlie people, a third packet was bought and given to tlie girl, in order to see what she would do with it. True to tlie nature of those from whom she liad sprung, and with wliom she had heen reared, tlie young cormorant retired with tlie cakes to her own room, and ate every crmnb of them by herseif in secret. This, again, is no extreme illustration of national habits, for while it is customary, in almost all families of the middle classes, for the wife and children to have merely soup and houilli for tlieir repast, the husband and father has generally a better meal prcpared for Idmself, and this he eats at the same table with the others, without the generosity to offer any of them a morsel of the dainties over which he is smacking bis lips; nor, even if there should be a tart, does he bestow so much as a flake of the crust on the little ones eying his every mouthful, but swallows it all before them. Indeed, we have seen a German professor eat a whole plateful of peaches, and his children be content to pick up the stones and suck them as fast as they were spat from their father's mouth on to the floor. kl EGLISATT. 279 $nttrpalattö Hjßnisft gcmes. EGLISAU. After leaving Laufenburg, the road still continues beside the Rhino, of which we catch occasional pecps, passing by the way the last of the four forest towns, Waldshut, which Stands on the skirts of the Black Forest on the opposite Rhine shore. This town consists of a longish Cluster of cottage walls, with a large white pedimented dwelling at the back, and perched on the top of a grecn shelving bank close beside the water. It was formerly a place of considerable importance, but in the 15th Century was besieged by the Swiss Confederates, and now contains barely 1000 inhabitants. A mile beyond this we come to the point of confluence of the Aar with the Rhine, where the waters of four Swiss lakes are mingled; for the Aar itself comes frora the Lake of Thun, and is joined a few miles above where it flows into the Rhine, not only by the waters of the Reus, carrying down the current from the Lake of Lucerne, but by those of the river Limmat, which is the outlet to the Lake of Zürich — whilst the Rhino itself brings with it the flood from the Lake of Constanz. Here the diligence crosses the Aar in a broad platformed boat, which serves for the ferry, and immediately afterwards we pass the little Coblenz, or " Confluentia" of the Upper Rhine. In rainy weather it is said tliat it is possible to disthiguish the waters of these different outlets to the lakes as they mingle with the Rhine, for the Rhenish flood is here even greener than ever, being now the very tint of the brightest crystals of copperas; and as the muddier waters of the Aar pour 280 nOJIESTIC MANNERS OF TUE fKTJSSIANS. into it, you can see it mottlccl liko a sheet of polished mala- cliite, and streaked with the yellow and red-brown veins of the mingled lake waters. The Aar, indeed, is as broad as the Rhino itself, which has now increased in width to the breadtli of a moderate field. A few moments more and the horses' lioofs clatter through the village of Zurzach, the long desolate streets resounding, ahnost with a startling effect, with the rattle of the wheels. Here the streets, that are channeled with covered runlets as at Freiburg, consist of one interminable line of shops; but what is most pecnliar and striking, not one of these "magazins" is open, though it is long past noon; all have their black shutters np, and yet it is neither fete, nor fast-day, nor yet the Sabbath. It seems as if the plague were raging in the tovvn, or as if you had reached the " sleeping city" ot romance, or—what is more common in these enlightened days — as if the people, in alarm at some prophecy touching the eoniing destruetion of the workl, had all run away to some other quarter. What can be the cause of the deserted State of the village ? you ask. Your wonder is soon stopped, however, by being informed that this is the great site of the Swiss fairs (that of Zurzach being the most important of all the commercial gatherings throughout the Cantons), and that the shops of the town are opened only once in the year — and then but for fifteen days — the merchants, who mostly cleal in leather and skins, Coming from great distances, and some hiring the magazins, while others own them and pay rent all' the year through. At the period of our visit, the only shops open were the post-office and an establishment for the sale of pipes, though the wonder was how even the solitary snuff-and-tobaeco merchant eould manage to find cnstomers in such a place. Beyond Zurzach, the post-road still lies closo beside the - EGLTSAU. 281 Rliine, of which we continue to obtain, as it twists and turns in its course among a pcrfect atnphitheatre of hüls, occasional glimpses, flowing between the steep green slopes of its escarped and moat-like Channel, broad as a wide street, and green as the vineyards striping its banks. A few miles farthcr, and we arrive at the town of Eglisau. As the diligence wincls zigzag down the hill on the opposite side of the river to that on which the village Stands, the view is pretty enough of the two long lines of houses perched one above the other on the shelving river banks—•with the ter- raced or quai-like roadway stretching at its base, and the tall houses next the river looking as lanky as storks, and giving you a notion—like, the old houses in the Cannongate in Edinburgh — of the parlours and kitchens being some four or five storeys high—and with the white walls, too, glittering like so much snow in the sun, and making the green flood immediately bclow them ahnost like milk. Then the covered bridge reaching from shore to sliore seems as you look down upon it like a long rüde Noah's Ark, resting on the almost emerald water that still fiows through a sloping Channel, the banks of which, as reflected in the stream, are hardly greener than the tide itself. The hüls round about are finely humped and rounded like cameis' backs, their summits brown with the red of the autumnal oaks, and their sides here and there loosely girt with a delicate scarf of' white mist. As we slide down towards the town—-with the horses almost on their haunches—we come to the gate-tower, and then passing the small "posle bureau," with a white cross painted on its red sign of a shield without, we enter the long, dark, wooden tube of the bridge,— a covered way that, with its huge timbers at the side and rafters overhead, and with the light Streaming in at the portholes along the 282 DOMESTIC MANNEBS OF TUE HIUSSIANS. sides, is exactly like the lower deck of a ship, and gives one the notion, as the horses' feet tramp on the boards with tlio same hollow sound as thcy do on the stage of a theatre, that we are travelling in a mail-coach from end to end of tlie " orlop " of the " Great Eastern." Tlien, as the diligence darts into the lieht at the other extremity, the sunbeams flash in the eyes with the same blinding brillianee as they do when issuing from a railway- tnnnel, and the horses begin to labour up the equally steep hill on the opposite shore — the village dwindling and dwind- ling below as the vehicle ascends. §4- Cüstoms at De ATii— Gebman Cemetebies — Death-Omens — Death-Saceaments — Death-Bills — Feab of beikg BüBIED ALIYE — FlINEBALS----AND TlME OF MoUBMNG. A country e.hurchyard in England, with its long rank grass, half-hiding the heavy stone tablets on the ground — with its dilapidated and tumble-down headstones, to graves that are barely a score of years old — would lead the foreigner to conclude that we were a nation that cared hut little for onr dead; whereas the trim garden-like character of a Parisian cemetery, where every grave is a flower-bed—and where you see the toys of the lost children enshrined in glass-cases at the head of their little tombs—where you can teil, too, by the different tints of the wreaths of " immortelles," (passing by gentle gradations, from the bright yellow chaplet of almost CU3T0MS AT DEATH. 283 yesterday into the deep brown of extreme agc), how regularly the funereal flower-bed lias l>een visited; — all wonld induce a belief tbat French people had far more tender hearts and lasting memories than our own race. Nevertlieless, a long residence in the two countries will, we are satisfied, give rise to an opposite opinion; for the very display of grief which originally cheated us into admiration of the people indulging in it is sure, ere long, to assume a hideous theatrical air in our eyes, and thus to produce a violent revul- sion of feeling both for the trick and the tricksters. " GOD ALONE KNOWS MY SOKKOW." Such was the inscription on an " ' immortelle" that we saw a gentleman in deep black hang upon a broken shaft in the Cimetiere Montmartre, with the view of Publishing his grief to the whole world. What the Great Teacher said of Prayer, may be aptly applied to grief. If, as He told us, there is no trust to be put in those who love to pray in public places, so is there little truth to be found in those who weep " that they may be seen of men:" for as surely as devout hearts " enter their closets and shut the door," in order to offer up their worship " in secret," so do sincere mourners keep their lamentations for the honest privaey of the same place. Again, this conversion of the grave into the parterre appears to our mind to spring from defective faith as to the spiritual essence of our natures, and to be based on a gross material belief that the body constitutes the entire being; seeming, indeed, but little removed in its wisdom from the practices of the old Egyptians, who stinted themselves through lifo in order that their carcass might obtain greater glorification after death. The frippery of the French cemeteries prevails to a great extent throughout Prussia. In tbe " Friedhof,'" however, the 284 DOMESTIC MANNERS OF TUE PRUSSTANS. grove-like walks are not skirted, as in France, by a row of private chapels, like miniature park-lodges, and fitted with glazed doors, so tliat the public may see the afflicted praying at tbe altar within. To do the people justice, too, tbere is less melodramatic ostentation about tlieir burial-grounds: nor is the gate beset by a disgusting crowd of obtrusive hawkers of " immortelles" who, as you pass, urge your attention to a "süperbe" chaplet "ä mon ange ;" or maybe to one embroi- dered with the flowery fib, " je pleuke toujoues." The death-omens which are populär only among nervous old women, and country folk, and serving-girls, with us, pre- vail in Prussia among the so-called educated classes; for we have known many a Herr Lehrer (Mr. Teacher) to have bis brain choke-full of the most childish and impious superstitions. Indeed, we have sat and smiled inwardlv, the evening throueh, at the scholastic jolter-heads, whilst they enlightened us as to how the howling of a restless dog in the night had foretold the death of Herr Somebody, and how a vagrant "Nacht-eule n (night-owl) had played the prophet, and announced the ap- proaching decease of some well-known invalid—better than the first physician in the land could have done. We have been informed, too, whilst the Professor grew warm with bis subject (and our Kirschwasser), how necessary it is, on a death oc- curring in a house, to move the tub of "Sauer-kraut" —if oidy an inch—away from its former place in the cellar, in order to prevent its becoming too rotten even for a Deutscher's stomach to relish; and, likewise, to tap with the knuckles at every cask of wine that may be in the Keller, to stop its turning into downright, unmitigated vinegar. We have heard, more- over, how in the country it is customary, even at the village parsonage, for some one to go into the garden immediately after a decease, and teil each swarm of bees (if hives be kept) DEATH-OMENS. 285 tliat tlieir master or mistress is dead; and wlien ive smiled at the exquisite simplicity of the superstition, the wiseacre—who, though deep in the Greek metres, was unable to distinguish between accidental association and necessary connexion in nature — proceeded to cite chapter and verse to us as to how Herr Someone had failed to perform tlie ceremony at Herr Somebody's, who lived in the Westerwald somewhere, where- upon every bee in the apiarj had sickened and died. In every foreign Catholic town, however, a surer sign of approaching death than either the nocturnal cries of the dog or the screech-owl consists in the appearance of a robed priest in the streets, hurrving along as he carries a silver chalice between his two raised hands, whilst a small searlet-petticoated boy proceeds before him bearing a silver cross on a high pole. From our window, looking as it does down the long vista of linden-trees that line the " Parade Platz" of Coblenz, we see some such priest in his short lace-frock and his black mitre- cap come hastening along the path twice or thrice a-week, while the drivers of the passing ox-wagons fall to doffing their hat and making faint attempts at genuflexion. Now, this "ciborium" eontains what Papists call "gods," and Protestants wafers, and in the " heilige Oel-büchse" which the priest carries beneath his robes, is treasured the blessed " oil of extreme unction "— oil that is used only at death for the puriflcation of the five senses ; and such is the belief of the pious in the virtue of these holy " remedies " (Heilmitteler), against everlasting misery, that no good Catholic dies easy in his bed unless he have received what is styled in German, "die heiligen Sterbesakramente der Catholischen Kirche" —the holy death-sacrament of the Catholic Clmrch. This oil of extreme unction is regarded with profonnd reverence by the people, evcn to the last; for it is customary 286 DOMESTIC MANNEHS OF THE I'EUSSIANS. for the priest to receive a fresh supply of the blessed unguent from his bishop every year, the bishop having it from the Pope, and the Pope—of course, from his Holiness's tallow- chandler. Annually, on the Saturday in Passion-weck, all that may remain of the supply for the preceding twelvemonth is publicly burnt by the priest, when the zealous peasants beg for pieces of the coal which served to consume the sacred fat. These cinders are regarded as charmed relics, and with them three black crosses are drawn on the stable-doors of the farm-houses on May night—as an infallible enehantment against imps and witches. Good Catholics usually die with the crueifix in their hand; but sliould it happen otherwise, the sacred symbol is placed in the palm, whilst lighted candles are set to burn continually around the bed, and the family kneel beside it praying for the repose of the departed soul. Such prayers, in Prussia, generally continue for three days; and it is customary during that time for the friends and relations, or even neigh- bours, to visit the house and assist at the ceremonies, or eise to take part in sitting up with the corpse at night. So sure a harbinger of death is the sight of the priest on his mission of anointment, that on the morrow, probably, you will hear of the Church Custos being out on his rounds, delivering small hand-bills at the houses in the neighbourhood of tlie decease; announcing, within a black border, the cause and time of death, as well as the day and hour on which the funeral is to take place; and not unfrequently having a prayer appended at the back of the paper, invoking rest for the soul of the departed. Here is a literal translation of a touching speeimen of such documents:— Jesus! Maria! Joseph L Blcssetf an tlje pure in fyeart, for tfjcii sfyall stt ffiotj." JMatt. b. 8. ^o tlje pi'ous $)rarj?r of tfje feUofo^tfjoIars, anü to all bdt'cbns, commenü foe töe Äoul of Ü>«f e§» aBdortgmg lo tlje trjttü form of tlje Cihammar^tfjool. |)e (ras, buring % sbort lernt of bis üfc, rontimutltg litt jog anb jjrftre of bis paratis, rmb, in tlje scljool unb tljttrxb, itlhjitjrs üiilling anff ohtisktd. |iut bonbln griebeb s« bis pnrenfs ;utb rclntions ou itteount of tlje ntmvncr of bis bratlj; for at tbc age of 12 jjcnrs mrb 10 ntontbs, just ;tt tbc riuciting of Ijts goutlj, {k feil front tlje ibitb storg of bis fatljer's ljcrn.se to tbc pabement, atto ijjmte to tlje tcllar. gifte Ije Ijab hin 8 [jours in uueonstious kutb-stntgglcs tlje angd tonbueteb bim front iljis to ;i beiier life. %)t bieb at 4Ij. 30m. on tjje ntorning of tljt 6tlj $uljr, 1854. 2Tfje butfnl fs fi'xcö for @T rjurstrarj, tfie Sifj ^Julg, at 3 p.m. ®Ije Bcfittfcm foi'II tafo platt ort .jprföaij, ifi? 9Hj 3fuln, at 9 am, at tlje fartsfj (Kfjttrcfj of ©ur IBcar Hatiy. potior of JDtatfj, füWjlg.isiSc, |2o. 9. ?^e sleppö in |3cncc! |5rotjtt © lesns, tljo« fönft of innotent tptott, fo toljont ®|ßtt gtwriutart % pngtom ßf fraimt, fak püj «pn i|2 sertot 6nü(, tolpt ®fym {pst mitüß m f|ir Jdragl]tjj toisbom um tjjis iMrlö af sorroto ana table. §Ioi fltit all ijjat to totalt anö shtful in (im, attö M jpt tnt« to % tttttlastmg gtatt of f |g djasm pgle, (9 f Irou tol]0 liocst ana rttpest fax tkt ana eter. ^men. ^—c^^ßjf^ttiSkJr^ aas DEATH ANNOIJNCEMENTS. 289 About four hundred of these bills are printed for "ordinary" people, and eight hundred for the wealthier gentry, whilst one thousand occasionally may be distributed "for a banker." Every person at whose house a hand-bill is left is supposed to be invited to the funeral. No lists of friends are furnished to the Custos who distributes them, as, owing to the smallness of the town, that functionary mostly knows all the relatives and associates of the deceased; neither are letters sent to the family friends, exccpt when far away. Simultaneously with the distribution of the above bills, a like announcement is made in the newspaper of the town. Nor are these advertisements the mere dry concise Statements that are customary in our own Journals; for it is by no means unusual for the bereaved publicly to sue for pity: thus:— " To distant acquaintances and friends we dedicate this sorrow-message (Trauer-Botscliaft), with the entreaty for deep sympathy," says one such advertisement before us. " Your deep sympathy is requested," curtly runs another. Other advertisements, however, will conclude with a notice, that " the business of the deceased is to be conducted upon the same liberal terms as before;" whilst others, again, may end with the following ostentation of affliction and worldly rank:— " Over bis grave are weeping the deeply sorrowing Fbiedeich von B-------, Privy-councillor of Justice at -------. Ludwig von B-------, Privy-councillor for Appeals in Justice and Equity at ■ -------. Kael von B-------, Councillor of Justice at -------. Geoege von B-------, Privy Councillor of Finance at Many, too, contain little sad histories of the bitter mis- fortune that has fallen on the family; as the subjoined —which we copy from the " Coblenzee Zeitung" —will testify:— VOL. II. u