Potsdam.
On the days when there is no public court at Sans-Souci, we generally dine with Lord Marechal, who is always happy to see the D—— of H——, and is of great service to all British subjects while they remain here or at Berlin. Exclusive of other reasons he may have for esteeming the Duke, his Lordship evidently displays a kind of partiality for his Grace, as the first man in point of rank belonging to his country. This appears in a thousand instances; for with very liberal sentiments, and a most benevolent heart, this venerable nobleman still retains a few Caledonian prejudices.
He asked one day of the D——, If he reckoned himself a Scotchman? Most certainly I do, replied his Grace. By so doing you lie under a mistake, said my Lord; for I can assure you, and I am convinced the best lawyers in England will do the same, that you have a much juster claim to all the privileges belonging to your English title of B——n, though some of them, I fear, are still disputed.
It is to be hoped, said the D——, that the House of Peers will not always refuse to do my family justice; on a thorough examination of the case, I still flatter myself they will grant me those privileges, which have been, for no valid reasons, refused my ancestors. But in the mean time, why will your Lordship, more cruel than the Peers, deny my birth-right as a Scotchman?
Because your birth gives you no such right, replied the Earl; for you in reality are but a North Briton:—unless your Grace can prove that you were born before the Union. But, continued he, with an air of triumph, I am a real Scotchman:—adding a little after, with a sigh, and in a plaintive accent—and almost the only one in the world—All the Scots of my acquaintance are now dead.
The good old Earl is infinitely fond of talking of his country, and of the days of former years. When I make any enquiry about the King of Prussia, or concerning Spain or Italy, in which countries he resided so long, he answers with a kind of complaisant brevity, and immediately turns the discourse back to Scotland, to which his heart seems wonderfully attached.
In the time of dinner, one of his servants, a stout highlander, generally entertains the company by playing on the bagpipe. I have observed, that these North Britons (to abide by Lord Marechal’s distinction) who are the most zealous for the interest and honour of their country, and who value themselves on being born north of the Tweed, are particularly, if not exclusively, fond of this instrument. You will, at least, allow that your gallant friend, Lord E——n, is no exception to this observation; and perhaps you will admit, that it requires a considerable degree of patriotism, oramor Caledoniæto have a great relish for the melody of a bagpipe.
I called on Lord Marechal one afternoon, just as the King had left him; for the monarch, without any form or previous notice, sometimes walks through the garden, and pays a short visit to his oldfriend, to whom he has an unalterable attachment, both from personal regard, and on account of the high estimation in which he holds the memory of his brother Marechal Keith.
Another day I was with the Earl, when the Princesses of Prussia and Hesse, with Prince Frederic of Brunswic, all entered and demanded coffee, which my Lord immediately ordered, with the addition of a couple of melons; telling the Princesses, he knew they would not stay long enough with a man of eighty, to give time for preparing a better repast.—Thus favoured by the monarch and the Princes, you will not doubt that the old Earl’s friendship is cultivated by the rest of the court.
The Hereditary Prince of Prussia lives in a small house in the town of Potsdam.His appointments do not admit of that degree of magnificence, which might be expected in the Heir of the crown;—but he displays a spirit of hospitality far more obliging than magnificence; and doubly meritorious, considering the very moderate revenue allowed him. We generally sup there two or three times a week.
This Prince is not often of the King’s parties, nor is it imagined that he enjoys a great share of his uncle’s favour. In what degree he possesses the talents of a general is not known, as he was too young to have any command during the late war. But he certainly has a very just understanding, which has been improved by study. He has taken some pains to acquire the English language, to which he was induced by an admiration of several English authors, whose works he had readin French and German. He is now able to read English prose with tolerable facility, and has been of late studying Shakespear, having actually read two or three of his plays.
I took the liberty to observe, that as Shakespear’s genius had traced every labyrinth, and penetrated into every recess of the human heart, his sentiments could not fail to please his Royal Highness; but, as his language was uncommonly bold and figurative, and full of allusions to national customs, and the manners of our island two centuries ago, the English themselves, who had not made a particular study of his works, did not always comprehend their full energy. I added, that to transfuse the soul of Shakespear into a translation, was impossible; and to taste all his beauties in the original, required such a knowledge of the English manners and language asfew foreigners, even after a long residence in the capital, could attain.
The Prince said, he was aware of all this; yet he was determined to struggle hard for some acquaintance with an author so much admired by the English nation; that though he should never be able to taste all his excellencies, he was convinced he should understand enough to recompence him for his trouble; that he had already studied some detached parts, which he thought superior to any thing he had ever met with in the works of any other Poet. His Royal Highness attends to military business with as much assiduity as most officers of the same rank in the army; for in the Prussian service, no degree of eminence in the article of birth can excuse a remission in the duties of that profession. He is much esteemed by the army, and considered as an exceeding good officer.To the frankness of a soldier he joins the integrity of a German, and is beloved by the public in general, on account of his good-nature, affability, and humane turn of mind.
Potsdam.
I am afraid you will think the anecdotes and conversation which I sometimes send you are rather tedious. Your curiosity about certain characters has led me into this practice; for I choose to give you opportunities of forming an opinion of your own, rather than to trouble you with mine. My opinion might very probably be erroneous; the accounts I give of what I have seen or heard are always true. And, notwithstanding that the actions and conversations I relate, may be apparently of small importance, still as the persons in some measure describe themselves, an understanding like yours will be able from thence to draw juster ideas of character than I could have given.
In a former letter I mentioned the great difficulty of deserting from a Prussian garrison, and of what importance it is thought to prevent it. An incident which happened a few days since, will give you a stronger idea of this than any general account.
Two soldiers of the Prince of Prussia’s regiment got over the walls in the night-time, with an intention to desert; but unluckily for them, this town stands on a peninsula formed by the river, and the neck of land is guarded in such a manner that it is almost impossible to pass that way without permission. These men could not swim, and they durst not present themselves at any of the ferries, because the boatmen are forbid, under the severest penalties, to connive at the escape of any deserters, and strictly ordered to assist in apprehending them. A reward is also offered, as a greater inducement to this piece of service.
All these circumstances being known in the garrison, it was imagined that, as none of the peasants would in all probability venture to harbour them, they were still skulking in the fields among the standing corn. On this supposition, parties of men were employed for three days successively in traversing the fields, and beating the bushes, as if they had been in chace of a hare. Great numbers of the officers of this regiment, some of the highest rank, rode about for three or four hours every day, all employed in the same manner. But not finding the men, they were at last convinced that they had by some means or other got out of the peninsula, and all further search was given up as unnecessary.
On the morning of the fourth day, these two unfortunate men came and surrendered to the guard at one of the gates. Finding it impracticable to effect their escape, and not daring to enter a house, they wereat length compelled by hunger and fatigue to deliver themselves up.
Before I close this letter, I will give you an account of an adventure of an affecting nature, which happened in the King’s family, at the time when all these researches were made for the two deserters.
The King’s principal valet-de chambre was a man considerably respected. Having constant opportunities of being about the King’s person, and having enjoyed his approbation for several years, people of the first rank paid him some degree of attention. He was liked by his acquaintances, as I have been told, on account of his personal qualities, and had accumulated a little fortune by the perquisites of his office. He had built a house near that of my Lord Marechal, and kept a coach for the use of his mistress.
It was this man’s misfortune to disoblige the King, probably by some neglect of duty; or it might possibly be something worse:—I never could hear exactly how this had happened:—But while the Princesses were at the New Palace, the King had blamed him in very sharp terms; and not being satisfied with the excuses the man made, he told him, that, as soon as the company was gone, he should be taken care of.
When the Princesses went to Berlin, his Majesty returned to his old palace at Sans-Souci; and the day after, he sent for an officer of his guards, and ordered him to conduct this man to Potsdam, and place him in the quality of a drummer in the first regiment of foot-guards.
The poor man endeavoured to pacify his master by prayers and entreaties, but without success.—He then said to the officer,that there were some things in his room which he wished to put in order before he went, and desired that he might be allowed a little time for that purpose. The officer readily assented, and as soon as this desperate man had entered his own apartment, he seized a pistol, which he had prepared from the time the King had threatened him, and immediately shot himself through the head. The report of the pistol alarmed the King and the officer.—They both went into the room, and found the poor creature expiring.
Though the King certainly had no idea that his valet would shoot himself; and though, it is most probable, he would not have allowed him to remain long in the situation to which, in a fit of resentment, he had condemned him;—yet there is something exceedingly harsh in dashing a man at once from a situation of ease and respect, into a sphere of life so verydifferent.—Such an order was more becoming the fury of an intemperate despot, than the dignity of so great and so wise a monarch as the King of Prussia.
I conversed with a person who had been at Sans-Souci immediately after this melancholy event.—He said the King seemed to be very much affected.—If he felt it as he ought, he was an object of compassion; if he did not, he was still more so, for nothing can be a greater misfortune to a man than to want humanity.
Dresden.
I believe I neglected to mention in any of my letters from Berlin, that when I visited the manufactory of porcelain, I was so much struck with the beauty of some of it, that I ordered a small box for you. But as I take it to be a matter of indifference, whether you sip your tea out of the china you have already, or this, you may send it as a present to the female you love and esteem most. If by this direction it should not go straight from you to Miss ——, pray let me know to whom you send it. The factor at Hamburgh will give you notice when he ships it off.
I did not imagine that this manufactory had arrived at such a degree of perfectionas it has in several places in Germany, particularly at Brunswic and Berlin. The parcel I have ordered for you, is thought equal to the finest made at Dresden.
The day we left Potsdam we dined with good Lord Marechal, who took leave of the D——, with an emotion which at once marked his regard for his G——, and his fears that he should never see him again.
If I were strongly in a humour for description, our journey through the most beautiful and most fertile part of Germany, would afford me a fair opportunity. I not only could ring over the whole chimes of woods, meadows, rivers, and mountains, rich crops of grain, flax, tobacco, and hops; I might animate the landscapes with a copious breed of horses, black cattle, sheep, wild boars, and venison, and vary the description with the marble, precious stones,and mines of lead, copper, iron, and silver, which Saxony contains within its bowels. I might expatiate on the fine china ware, and fine women, that abound in this country, formed of the finest clay in Germany, et très joliment travaillées;—but I am long since tired of description, and therefore beg leave to convey you at once from Potsdam to Dresden.
Having been presented to the Elector and Electress by Mr. Osborn, the British minister here, we had the honour of dining with them the same day. The Electress is young, tall, well-made, and lively.—We were afterwards presented to the Electress Dowager, and to the Princess Elizabeth, the Elector’s aunt, to the Princess, his sister, and to his three brothers, the eldest of whom has lost the use of his legs, and is moved about the room in a chair with wheels.
The court was numerous and splendid. In the evening there was card-playing for about two hours. The D—— of H—— was of the Electress’s party, while I played two rubbers at whist with one of the Princesses, against the Electress Dowager and the Princess Elizabeth.—I have never seen deep gaming at any of the German courts.—What has approached nearest to it, has been at masquerades, or where the Sovereign was not present.
Dresden, though not one of the largest, is certainly one of the most agreeable cities in Germany, whether we consider its situation, the magnificence of its palaces, or the beauty and conveniency of the houses and streets. This city is built on both sides of the Elbe, which is of a considerable breadth here. The magnificent and commodious manner in which the two opposite parts of the town are joined, adds greatly to its beauty.
There is an equestrian statue of King Augustus, in a kind of open place or square, between the old city and the new. The workmanship is but indifferent; however, I was desired by our Cicerone to admire this very much, because—it was made by a common smith. I begged to be excused, telling him that I could not admire it, had it been made by Michael Angelo.
Few Princes in Europe are so magnificently lodged as the Elector of Saxony. The Palace and Museum have been often described.—The last was begun by the Elector Augustus, and still retains the name of the Green Room, though it now consists of several apartments, all painted green, in imitation of the first. I will not enumerate the prodigious number of curiosities, natural and artificial, to be seen there. Some of the last are curious, only because they are invisible to the human eye. Of thisnumber, is a cherry stone, upon which, by the help of a microscope, above a hundred faces may be distinguished. Undoubtedly these little mechanical whims display the labour, perseverance, and minute attention of the workman; but I cannot think they are proofs of the wisdom of those who could employ artists to so little purpose. Let the astonishing minutiæ of nature be admired through microscopes; but surely nothing is a proper work for the hands of man, which cannot be seen by the unaided human eye.
A work of the jeweller Dinglinger, which represents the celebration of the Mogul’s birth-day, is much admired. The Mogul sitting on his throne, his grandees and guards, with a great many elephants, are all exhibited upon a table about an ell square. This work employed Dinglinger, and some assistants, above ten years. Donot you think this was leaving so ingenious an artist a little too long in the Mogul’s service?
A simple list of every thing valuable and curious in this Museum, would exceed the bounds of one of my longest letters; I shall therefore pass them all over in silence, except the story of the prophet Jonah, which it would be impious to omit. The ship, the whale, the prophet, and the sea-shore, are all represented in pearl; but the sea and rocks are in a different kind of stone, though, in my opinion, there was no occasion to vary the materials; for surely there is as great a difference between a prophet and a whale, as between a whale and a rock. So that if the first two could be represented with the same materials, I do not think it was worth while to change the composition for the third.
The gallery of pictures is highly esteemed. To enumerate the particular merits of each, would fill many volumes, and requires a far greater knowledge of painting than I can pretend to. The most valuable pieces are by Corregio and Rubens. There are three or four by the former, and of his most capital works; and a very considerable number by the latter. The strength and expression of this great artist’s pencil, the natural glow of his colouring, and the fertility of his fancy deserve the highest encomiums. Yet one cannot help regretting, that he had so violent a passion for fat women. That kind of nature which he had seen early in life in his own country, had laid such hold of his imagination, that it could not be eradicated by all the elegant models he afterwards studied in Italy. Some of his female figures in this gallery are so much of the Dutch make, and so fat, that it is rather oppressiveto look at them in this very hot weather.
In the Museum, within the Palace, there is a most complete collection of prints, from the commencement of the art of engraving till the present time.
Dresden.
Nothing seems clearer to me, than that a fortified town should have no palaces within it, and no suburbs without. As the city of Dresden has both, it would have been well for the inhabitants, during the last war, that the town had been entirely without fortifications. In the year 1756, when the King of Prussia thought it expedient to invade Saxony, he made himself master of this city, and kept peaceable possession of it till 1758, when Marechal Daun, after the battle of Hochkirchen, threatened to besiege it. The Prussian General Schmettau began his defence by burning part of the suburbs. The Saxons and Austrians exclaimed at this measure, and Daun threatened tomake the governor answerable, in his own person, for such desperate proceedings. Count Schmettau was totally regardless of their exclamations and threats, and seemed attentive only to the orders of the King his master. He gave Marechal Daun to understand, that the remaining suburbs would share the fate of those already destroyed, if he persisted in attacking the town. The King appearing soon after, the Austrians retreated into Bohemia.
The inhabitants of Dresden, and all Saxony, were now in a very dismal situation, and found their hardships increase in proportion to the success of their friends and allies; for whatever exactions were raised in the King of Prussia’s dominions by the Austrians and Russians, the like were imposed by way of retaliation on the miserable Saxons. A people must be in a deplorable state indeed, when the success of their enemies is the most fortunate thing which can befal them.
In 1759, after the dreadful battle of Cunersdorf, near Frankfort on the Oder, the King of Prussia being necessitated to repair the slaughter of that day, withdrew the Prussian garrison from Dresden, which then fell into the hands of the Imperialists. But the calamities of this city did not end here; for his Prussian Majesty having deceived Marechal Daun by a very masterly feint, while he seemed to bend his course for Silesia, he wheeled suddenly about, and threatened Dresden, which Marechal Daun had abandoned, in the full conviction, that the King had marched to the relief of Schweidnitz. While the Austrians hurried on by forced marches into Silesia, the King attacked Dresden, which was resolutely defended by General Macquire.
Every possible effort was made to reduce this city before Count Daun should return to its relief;—and the wretched citizenswere exposed to a continued cannonade and bombardment. This perhaps was justifiable by the laws of war, as long as there were hopes that the town might be brought to surrender by such means.—But the enemies of his Prussian Majesty assert, that the bombardment was continued, and churches, fine buildings, and whole streets laid in ashes, even after Marechal Daun’s return; and when these vindictive proceedings could only tend to the ruin and destruction of private people, without contributing in the smallest degree to the reducing the town, or being of any use to the public cause.
Many of these houses still lie in rubbish; but the inhabitants are gradually rebuilding, and probably all the ruined streets will be repaired before a new war breaks out in Germany. While they rebuild the houses, I cannot help thinking it would be fortunate for the proprietors,that they were allowed to destroy the fortifications, which perhaps might be placed with more advantage around some towns on the frontiers.
The curious manufactory of porcelain suffered considerably by the Prussian bombardment. The Elector has a complete collection of the finest pieces, from the first attempts made here in this elegant work, to the latest improvements. This, independent of the beauty of many of the pieces, is a matter of real curiosity, as it marks the progress of ingenuity and invention.
Our morning-walk is in the gardens of the late Count Bruhl, situated on the high banks of the Elbe. Nothing can be imagined more delightful than the view from a lofty terrace in these gardens. The Count’s magnificent house is now stript of many of its greatest ornaments. The fine collection of paintings has been soldto the Empress of Russia for 150,000 rix-dollars. The library, which is in the garden, is two hundred and twenty feet long. I am not certain, whether it was absolutely necessary to have so large a room for containing this nobleman’s books; but it must have required one of that size at least for his wardrobe, if the account that is given of it be just. They tell us, that the Count had at least three hundred different suits of clothes; each of these had a duplicate, as he always shifted his clothes after dinner, and did not choose that his dress should appear different in the afternoon from what it had been in the morning. A painting of each suit, with the particular cane and snuff-box belonging to it, was very accurately drawn in a large book, which was presented to his Excellency every morning by his Valet de Chambre, that he might fix upon the dress in which he wished to appear for the day. This minister was accused of having accumulateda great fortune. The reverse of this, however, is true. His house and gardens belong now to the Elector.
The Saxon troops make a very fine appearance. The men in general are handsome and well made. Neither they nor their officers are so very upright and stiff in their manners, as the Prussians. Having been so long accustomed to these last, this difference struck me very strongly at first sight. The uniform of the guards is red and yellow; that of the marching regiments white. The soldiers, during the summer, wear only waistcoats, even when they mount guard; and always appear extremely neat and clean. The serjeants, besides their other arms, have a large pistol. This is so commodiously fastened to the left side, that it gives no trouble. The band of music belonging to the Saxon guards is the most complete and the finest I ever saw.
I do not expect to receive any accounts from you till we arrive at Vienna; but I shall probably write again from Prague, for which place we intend to set out to-morrow.
Prague.
Bohemia, though by no means so fertile, or so fine a country as Saxony, does not deserve the bad character which some travellers have given it. I thought many places very beautiful, and varied with the most agreeable rural objects.
Prague, the capital of Bohemia, stands in a hollow, surrounded on all sides with hills. Those nearest the town, and which command it, are comprehended within the fortifications. It is a very large town, retaining some marks of former splendor, but many more evident symptoms of present decay—Symptoms which naturally attend those places which once have been the residence of royalty, and are so no more.
All the houses, with any appearance of magnificence, are old, and it is not probable, that any new ones will be built in that style: for the Bohemian nobility, who are in circumstances to bear such an expence, live at Vienna, and the trade and manufactures of this town are not sufficient to enable any of the mercantile people to build fine houses.
In whatever degree this city may have dwindled in wealth and magnificence, the piety of the inhabitants certainly flourishes as much as ever. I do not recollect to have seen so many glaring marks of devotion in any place. The corners of the streets, bridges, and public buildings, are all ornamented with crucifixes, images of the Virgin of all sizes and complexions, and statues of Saints of every country, condition, age, and sex. People are to be seen on their knees before these statues in every part of this city, but particularly onthe large bridge over the Moldaw, where there is the greatest concourse of passengers. This bridge is so profusely adorned with the statues of Saints, that crossing over it, you have a row of them on each side, like two ranks of musketeers.
Travellers, especially such as arrive directly from Berlin, must be astonished at the people’s devotion in this city, in a particular manner at the vehemence with which it is expressed by those who exhibit before the saints upon the bridge.
Not contented with kneeling, I saw some prostrate themselves on their faces, kissing the earth; and others, who offered their petitions to these saints with such earnestness and fervour, that, if their hearts had not been of stone, they must have paid more attention to the petitioners than they seemed to do.
There is one saint who has more votaries than all the rest put together—Saint Nepomuc, I think they call him:—As my acquaintance with saints is not extensive, I never heard of him till I came hither, but his reputation is very great in this town. This saint, it seems, was ordered by some cruel tyrant, to be thrown over a bridge, and his neck was broke by the fall, and he is supposed to retain a particular affection for bridges ever since; an effect something different from what was to have been expected from the cause; however, the people here are persuaded, that so it happened to Saint Nepomuc; and to put the fact beyond controversy, he is at this moment the tutelar saint of bridges;—almost all those in Bohemia are dedicated to him. He has also the reputation of excelling every saint in heaven in the cure of barrenness in women.—How his character for this was established, I did not enquire.
It is a melancholy reflection, that the wealthy are more careless about religious duties than the indigent, and that poverty and piety are so often linked together. I often observed, when we stopped at any town or village, which had symptoms of great poverty, that the inhabitants seemed also unusually devout.
It would appear, that hope is a more powerful sentiment in the human breast than gratitude, since those who ought to feel the greatest thankfulness to Heaven display the least.
We found an acquaintance at Prague when we least expected it; for as the D—— of H—— and I stood talking in the streets, a priest, who belongs to a seminary of learning in this town, overheard us; upon which he stopped, and after looking at us very earnestly for some time, he at length came up, and addressed us in thesewords:—I do assure you now, I am an Irishman too. This easy kind of introduction soon produced a degree of intimacy; I asked how he knew so readily that we were Irish? Am I not after hearing you speak English, my dear? replied the honest priest, for he really was a very honest obliging fellow, and the most useful and entertaining Cicerone we could have had at Prague.
After having visited the royal apartments, they shewed us the window in the secretary of state’s office, from whence three noblemen were thrown in the year 1618. This was rather a violent mode of turning out the people in power; but it is probable the party in opposition had tried gentler means in vain.
As one great use of history is to furnish lessons and examples, by which posterity in all ages may profit, I do not think itwould be amiss to remind your friends in administration of this adventure, that they may move off quietly before their opponents take desperate measures. For it has been observed, that the enemies of tottering statesmen are much more active than their friends, who, when things come to the last push, are apt to stand aloof,
Like people viewing, at a distance,Three men thrown out of a casement,Who never stir to their assistance,But just afford them their amazement.
Like people viewing, at a distance,Three men thrown out of a casement,Who never stir to their assistance,But just afford them their amazement.
Like people viewing, at a distance,
Three men thrown out of a casement,
Who never stir to their assistance,
But just afford them their amazement.
In case however a similar outrage should be threatened in England, it is to be hoped that Apollo (as he was wont of old when any of his friends were in danger) will interpose with a cloud, and save the Minister; for, in the present scarcity of wit and good humour, it would be a thousand pities to lose a man so muchdistinguished for both, at one desperate throw.
We walked over the heights from which the Prussians attempted to carry the town, immediately after the defeat of Prince Charles of Lorraine and Count Brown. The bombardment of this town was a more defensible measure than that of Dresden; for while the army within were under the dejection natural after the loss of a battle, and unprepared for a siege, it might be supposed, that the confusion and terror produced by the bombardment, joined to the vast consumption of provisions by such a numerous garrison, would induce the besieged to surrender. But although the King’s humanity has not been called in question for his conduct here, I have heard many military men censure him for want of prudence, particularly on account of his desperate attempt atKolin, when, leaving the half of his army to continue the blockade of Prague, he marched with little more than thirty thousand men, and attacked an army of double that number, strongly situated, and commanded by one of the ablest generals of the age.
After all, it is more than probable, that the King had very good reasons for his conduct. But as the attempt was unsuccessful, and as the sad reverse of the Prussian affairs may be dated from that epoch, the voice of censure has been very loud in blaming an action, which would have been exalted to the skies had it been crowned with success. If Hannibal had by any accident been defeated at Cannæ, it is very possible, that historians would have found out many reasons why he should not have fought that battle, and would have endeavoured to prove, that his former victorieshad been gained by chance, and that he was a mere ignoramus in the art of war.
Adieu, my good friend; I wish you good luck in all your undertakings, that you may continue to be reckoned by the world, a man of prudence.
Vienna.
On arriving at Vienna, the postillions drive directly to the Custom-house, where the baggage undergoes a very severe scrutiny, which neither fair words nor money can mitigate. As nothing contraband was found among our baggage, it was all carried directly to our lodgings, except our books, which were retained to be examined at leisure, and were not restored to us till some time after. The Empress has given strict orders, that no books of impiety, lewdness, or immorality, shall be allowed to enter her dominions, or be circulated among her subject; and Mahomet himself dares as soon appear publicly at Vienna as any one of them.
Unfortunately for us, Sir Robert Keith is lately gone to England, and is not expected back for several months. We have reason to regret the absence of so agreeable and so worthy a man; but every advantage we could have received from him as a minister, has been supplied by his secretary, Mr. Ernest, who has introduced us to the Count Degenfelt, ambassador from the States-General. This gentleman furnished us with a list of the visits proper to be made, and had the politeness to attend the D—— of H—— on this grand tour.
The first day we waited on Prince Kaunitz, we were invited to dine, and found a very numerous company at his house, many of whom, as I afterwards understood, had been prepossessed in our favour, by the polite and obliging letters which the Baron de Swieten had written from Berlin.
Some of the principal families are at their seats in the country, which we shouldhave more reason to regret, were it not for the politeness and hospitality of the Count and Countess Thune, at whose house, or that of their sister the Countess Walstein, there is an agreeable party every evening; among whom is the Viscount de Laval, brother to the Marquis, whom I had the honour of knowing at Berlin. The Viscount has been as far north as Petersburg, and intends to make the tour of Italy before he returns to France.
The city of Vienna, properly so called, is not of very great extent; nor can it be enlarged, being limited by a strong fortification. This town is very populous: It is thought to contain above seventy thousand inhabitants. The streets in general are narrow, and the houses built high. Some of the public buildings and palaces are magnificent; but they appear externally to no great advantage, on account of the narrowness of the streets. The chief are theImperial Palace, the Library and Museum, the palaces of the Princes Lichtenstein, Eugene, and some others, which I know you will excuse me from enumerating or describing.
There is no great danger that Vienna will ever again be subjected to the inconveniencies of a siege. Yet, in case the thing should happen, a measure has been taken, which will prevent the necessity of destroying the suburbs: No houses without the walls are allowed to be built nearer to the glacis than six hundred yards; so that there is a circular field of six hundred paces broad all around the town, which, exclusive of the advantage above mentioned, has a very beautiful and salutary effect. Beyond the plain, the suburbs are built.—They form a very extensive and magnificent town of an irregularly circular form, containing within its bosom a spacious field, which has for its centre the original town of Vienna.
These magnificent suburbs, and the town together, are said to contain above three hundred thousand inhabitants; yet the former are not near so populous, in proportion to their size, as the town; because many houses of the suburbs have extensive gardens belonging to them, and many families, who live during the winter within the fortifications, pass the summer months in the suburbs.
Monsieur de Breteuil, the French ambassador, lives there at present. The Duke and I dined at his house a few days ago. This gentleman was attached to the Duc de Choiseul, and had been appointed ambassador to this court, in which character he was about to set out from Paris, when that minister was dismissed by the late King of France; upon which M. de Breteuil, instead of Vienna, was sent to Naples. But since the new King’s accession, he has been established at the court for which hewas originally intended. He is a man of talents, and not calculated for a situation in which talents have little or no room for exertion.
About a week after our arrival at Vienna, we had the honour of being presented to the Emperor. The Count Degenfeldt accompanied us to the palace between nine and ten in the morning. After walking a few minutes in an adjoining room, we were conducted into that where the Emperor was alone. His manner is affable, easy, and gracefully plain.
The same forenoon we drove to Schonbrun, a palace about a league from Vienna, where the Empress resides at present. I had no small curiosity to see the celebrated Maria Theresa, whose fortunes have interested Europe for so many years. Her magnanimity in supporting the calamities to which the early part of her life was exposed, and themoderation with which she has borne prosperity, have secured to her universal approbation. She also was alone when we were presented. She conversed for some time with the D—— of H—— in an easy and cheerful manner, and behaved to all with an affable dignity. She now possesses but small remains of that beauty for which she was distinguished in her youth; but her countenance indicates benevolence and good-humour. I had often heard of the scrupulous etiquette of the Imperial court, but have found every thing directly opposite to that account.
Prince Kaunitz having seen a young English gentleman scarcely fourteen years of age, whom the D—— of H—— patronizes, and who has accompanied us on this tour, the Prince desired that he also might be presented to the Emperor and Empress, which was accordingly done, and they both received him in the most gracious manner.I mention this circumstance as a strong proof how far they are superior at this court to trifling punctilios, and how greatly they have relaxed in ceremony since the accession of the Lorrain family.
Two or three days after this, we were presented, at a full court, to the two unmarried Arch-Duchesses, their sister the Princess Albert of Saxony, and the Princess of Modena, who is married to the Emperor’s brother. The last couple are lately arrived from Milan on a visit to the Empress.
The Imperial family are uncommonly well-looking, and have a very strong resemblance to each other. They are all of a fair complexion, with large blue eyes, and some of them, particularly the Arch-duke, are distinguished by the thick lip so long remarked in the Austrian family. The beautiful Queen of France is the handsomest of thisfamily, only because she is the youngest; some people think that her sister the Princess Albert has still the advantage.
One of the unmarried Arch-duchesses, who formerly was thought the most beautiful, has suffered considerably by the small-pox.—A lady of the court told me, that, as soon as this princess understood what her disease was, she called for a looking-glass, and with unaffected pleasantry took leave of those features she had often heard praised, and which she believed would be greatly changed before she should see them again. The diminution which the small-pox has made in the beauty of this Princess, has not in the smallest degree impaired her good-humour, or the essential part of her character, which by every account is perfectly amiable.
When the King of Prussia saw his army defeated at Cunersdorf, after he had writtento the Queen that he was sure of victory; or when any of those monarchs, of whom history gives examples, were dashed from their thrones to a state of dependence or captivity, unquestionably it required great strength of mind to bear such cruel reverses of fortune; but perhaps it requires more in a woman, whose beauty is admired by one half of the human race, and envied by the other, to support its loss with equanimity in all the pride of youth.—If those veteran beauties, who never had any thing but their faces to give them importance, whom we see still withering on the stalk, and repining that they cannot retain the bloom of May in the frost of December, had met with such an accident, it would probably have killed them at once, and saved them many years of despised existence.
Vienna.
I never passed my time more agreeably than since I came to Vienna. There is not such a constant round of amusements as to fill up a man’s time without any plan or occupation of his own; and yet there is enough to satisfy any mind not perfectly vacant and dependent on external objects.—We dine abroad two or three times a week. We sometimes see a little play, but never any deep gaming.—At the Countess Thune’s, where I generally pass the evening, there is no play of any kind.—The society there literally form a conversazione.
I dare say, you will be at a loss to imagine how a mixed company, sometimes pretty numerous, can pass several hours everyevening, merely in conversing, especially when you are told that the conversation is not always split into parties and tête-à-têtes; but is very often general. You will suspect there must be many melancholy pauses, which, after a certain length, are prolonged, from the reluctance of people to be the first breakers of a very solemn silence; or you may think that sometimes there will be so many tongues moving at once, that nothing can be heard distinctly; and you may possibly figure to yourself the lady of the house at other times endeavouring, by formal observations on the weather, or politics, to keep alive a conversation which is just expiring in all the yawnings of death.
Nothing of this kind, however, happens. The Countess has the art of entertaining a company, and of making them entertain one another, more than any person I ever knew. With a great deal of wit, and a perfect knowledge of the world, she possesses themost disinterested heart. She is the first to discover the good qualities of her friends, and the last who sees their foibles. One of her greatest pleasures is to remove prejudices from amongst her acquaintances, and to promote friendships. She has an everlasting flow of spirits, which she manages with such address as to delight the gay, without displeasing the dejected. I never knew any body have such a number of friends, and so much generous friendship to bestow on each: She is daily making new ones, without allowing her regard for the old to diminish. She has formed a little system of happiness at her own house, herself being the centre of attraction and union. Nobody is under the least necessity of remaining a moment in this society after being tired.—They may retire when they please.—No more notice is taken of the entries or exits of any person who has been once received, than of a fly’s coming in or going out of the room.—There is not the shadow of restraint.—If you goevery night, you are always treated with equal kindness; and if you stay away for a month, you are received on your return with the same cheerfulness as if you had been there every evening.
The English who come to this place are in a particular manner obliged to this family, not only for the polite reception they generally meet with, but also for the opportunities this affords them of forming an acquaintance with the principal people at Vienna. And I imagine there is no city in Europe where a young gentleman, after his university education is finished, can pass a year with so great advantage; because, if properly recommended, he may mix, on an easy footing, with people of rank, and have opportunities of improving by the conversation of sensible men and accomplished women. In no capital could he see fewer examples, or have fewer opportunities of deepgaming, open profligacy, or gross debauchery. He may learn to pass his time agreeably, independent of a continued round of amusements.—He may be gradually led to enjoy rational conversation, and at length acquire the blessed faculty of being satisfied with moderate pleasures.
To the politeness of the Countess Thune, and the recommendation of the Baron Swieten, I am indebted for the agreeable footing I am on with Prince Kaunitz, who at present lives at Laxenberg, a pleasant village about ten miles from Vienna, where there is a small palace and very extensive park, belonging to the Imperial family.
Prince Kaunitz has lately built a house there, and lives in a style equally hospitable and magnificent. He is not to be seen before dinner by any but people on business;but he always has a pretty large company at dinner, and still greater numbers from Vienna pass their evenings at Laxenberg; not unfrequently the Emperor himself makes one of the company. This minister has enjoyed the favour of the Empress for many years. He was her envoy at the treaty of Aix la Chapelle in 1748, and has been of her cabinet council ever since. At present he is minister for all foreign affairs, and is supposed to have greater influence with her than any other person.
He is certainly a man of knowledge, genius, and fidelity, and the affairs of this court have prospered greatly under his management. His friends are very much attached to him, and he shews great discernment in discovering, and employing men of talents. He is the friend and patron of Mons. de Swieten. It is supposed that he advised and negociated the French alliance,yet he has always had a strong partiality in favour of the British nation.—He has some singularities; but as they do not affect any essential part of his character, they need not be mentioned.
Vienna.
I had the pleasure of yours by the last post, wherein you inform me that our acquaintance C—— talks of setting out for Vienna very soon. As nothing is so tiresome as the company of one who is continually tired of himself, I should be alarmed at your information, were I not absolutely certain that his stay here will be very short, come when he will.
C—— called at my lodgings one morning the summer before I had left London.—I had remained in town merely because I had no particular business elsewhere;—but he assured me, that the town was a desert;—that it was shameful to be seen in the streets;—that all the world was aBrighthelmstone.—So I allowed him to conduct me to that place, where we had remained only a few days, when he told me, that none of the people he cared for were there; and as I had nothing particular to detain me, he begged as a favour that I would accompany him to Tunbridge.—We went accordingly, and to my great satisfaction I there found Mr. N——’s family. C—— remained pretty quiet for about four days;—he yawned a good deal on the fifth;—and on the sixth, I thought he would have dislocated his jaws. As he perceived I was pleased with the place, and would take none of his hints about leaving it, he at last pretended that he had received a letter which made it absolutely necessary for him to set out for London:—and away he went.
I staid three weeks at Tunbridge.—On my return to town, I understood that C—— had taken a genteel furnished house for the summer, in Yorkshire, where he had alreadypassed a week, having previously engaged a female friend to go along with him.—He left word in town, that he was not to be expected till the meeting of parliament. Though I never imagined that he would remain quite so long, yet I was a little surprised to see him enter my room two days after I had received this account.—He told me, he was quite disgusted with his house, and more so with his companion:—and besides, he had taken a violent fancy to go to Paris, which you know, added he, is the most delightful place in the world, especially in summer; for the company never think of rambling about the country like our giddy fools in England, but remain together in the capital as sensible people ought to do.
He then proposed that we should pack up a few things,—take post,—pass over,—and spend a couple of months at Paris. Finding I did not relish the proposal, hewrote an apology to the lady in Yorkshire, with an inclosed bank bill, and set out next day by himself. I heard no more of him for six weeks, but at the end of that time happening to be at Bath, I saw my friend C—— enter the pump-room.—’Egad, said he, you were wise to stay at home:—Paris is become the most insipid place on earth:—I could not support it above ten days.—But having heard a good deal of Holland, I even took a jaunt to Amsterdam, which, between friends, I found very little more amusing than Paris; two days after my arrival, finding an English ship just ready to sail, I thought it would be a pity to let the opportunity slip. So I ordered my trunk aboard.—We had a disagreeable passage:—However, I arrived safe a few days ago at Harwich. After this sketch of poor C——’s turn of mind, you see, I have no reason to fear his remaining long with us, if he should come.
Foreigners assert that the English have more of this restless disposition than any other people in Europe.
Il faut que votre ville de Londres soit un triste séjour.—I asked the person who made this remark to me, wherefore he thought so?—Parceque, answered he, tous vos jeunes gens que je vois en France s’ennuyent à la mort.—But, said I, there are a great many of your countrymen in London.—Assurément, answered he, with polite insolence, cela fait une différence.
Our climate is accused of producing this ennuy. If I rightly remember, I formerly hinted some reasons against this opinion, and of late I begin to suspect that the excessive wealth of certain individuals, and the state of society in our capital, are the sole causes of our having a greater share of that malady among us than our neighbours. The common people of England knownothing of it:—neither do the industrious of any rank, whether their object be wealth, knowledge, or fame. But in England there is a greater number than in any other country, of young men, who come to the possession of great fortunes before they have acquired any fixed and determined taste, which may serve as a resource and occupation through life.
When a youth has acquired a habit of application, a thirst of knowledge, or of fame, the most ample fortune which can fall to him afterwards, cannot always destroy dispositions and passions already formed—Particularly if the passion be ambition, which generally gives such energy to the mind, and occasions such continued exertions as sufficiently ward off lassitude and tædium; for wealth cannot lull, or pleasure enervate, a mind strongly inspired by that active principle. Such therefore are out of the present question. But when a full and uncontrolledcommand of money comes first, and every object of pleasure is placed within the reach of the unambitious, all other pursuits are too frequently despised; and every taste or accomplishment which could inform or strengthen the mind, and fill up the tedious intervals of life, is neglected.
A young man in this situation is prone to excess, he seldom waits the natural returns of appetite of any kind;—his sensibility is blunted by too frequent enjoyment;—what is desired to-day, is lothed to-morrow;—every thing at a distance, which bears the name of pleasure, is an object of desire;—when present, it becomes an object of indifference, if not of disgust.—The agitations of gaming are tried to prevent the horrid stagnation of indolence:—All amusements lose their relish, and serve to increase the languor they were meant to expel.
As age advances, caprice, peevishness, and tædium augment:—The scene is often changed; but the same fretful piece is constantly acted till the curtain is dropt, or is pulled down by the impatient actor himself before the natural end of the drama.
Does not all this happen in France and Germany?—Doubtless; but not so often as in England, for the reasons already mentioned. In France, a very small proportion of young men have the uncontrolled possession of great fortunes. They have not the means of gratifying every desire, and indulging every caprice. Instead of spending their time in clubs or taverns, with people of their own age, the greater part of the young nobility pass their evenings with some private family, or in those societies of both sexes to which they have the entrée. There the decorum due to such company restrains of course the vivacity and wantonness oftheir behaviour and conversation; and adventures occur which interest and amuse, without being followed by the nausea, languor, and remorse, which often succeed nights spent at the gaming-table, or the licentiousness of tavern suppers.
Nothing has a better influence on the temper, disposition, and manners of a young person, than living much in the company of those whom he respects. Exclusive of the improvement he may receive from their conversation, he is habituated to self-denial, and must relinquish many indulgencies which lead to indolence and languor.
The young French nobility, even although they should have no great share of ambition, no love of study, no particular turn for any of those higher accomplishments which enable men to pass the hours of life independent of other amusements; yet they contrive to keep tædium at a distanceby efforts of a different kind, by a species of activity peculiar to themselves; they perceive very early in life, the absolute necessity of pleasing. This sentiment pervades their general conduct, and goes a great way in the formation of their real character. They are attentive and obliging to all, and particularly endeavour to acquire and retain the friendship of those who can assist their fortunes; and they have a relish for life, because it is not always in their power to anticipate enjoyment, nor can they cloy their appetites by satiety. Even the most dissipated among them are unacquainted with the unbounded freedom of a tavern life, where all the freaks of a whimsical mind, and a capricious taste, may be indulged without hesitation, and which, after long indulgence, renders every other kind of society insupportable.
With regard to the Germans, there are very few men of great independent fortunesamong them. The little princes, by whom the riches of the country are engrossed, have, I suspect, their own difficulties to get through life with any tolerable degree of satisfaction. As for their younger brothers and the middling gentry, they go into the army, and are subjected to the rigorous and unremitting attentions of military discipline. This, of consequence, forms a character, in many respects different from that of the English or French gentleman.
But I have not yet mentioned the circumstance, which, of all others, perhaps contributes the most to render London the triste séjour which foreigners often find it; I mean the establishment of clubs, from which that part of the community are excluded who have the greatest power to soothe the cares, and enliven the pleasures of life.
Vienna.
We had an invitation lately from Mons. de Breteuil to dine on the top of Mount Calenberg, a very high mountain in the neighbourhood of this city. Common coaches or chariots cannot be dragged up; but having driven to the bottom, we found chaises of a particular construction, calculated for such expeditions. These had been ordered by the Ambassador for the accommodation of the company, and in them we were carried to the summit, where there is a convent of Monks, from which two landscapes of very opposite natures appear. The one consists of a series of wild mountains; the other, of the town, suburbs, and environs of Vienna, with the variousbranches of the Danube flowing through a rich champaign of boundless extent.
The table for dinner was covered in a field near the convent, under the shade of some trees.—Every delicacy of the season was served up.—— Madame de Matignon, a very beautiful and sprightly lady, daughter of M. de Breteuil, did the honours.—Some of the finest women of Vienna, her companions, were of the company; and the whole entertainment was conducted with equal taste and gaiety.
During the dessert, some of the Fathers came and presented the company with baskets of fruit and sallad from their garden.—The Ambassador invited them to sit, and the ladies pledged them in tokay. Mons. de Breteuil had previously obtained permission for the ladies to enter the convent;—— which they accordingly did, assoon as they rose from table, attended by all the company.
You will readily believe, that the appearance of so many handsome women would be particularly interesting to a community which had never before beheld a female within their walls.—This indeed was sufficiently evident, in spite of the gravity and mortified looks of the Fathers.
One lady of a gay disposition laid hold of a little scourge which hung at one of the Fathers’ belts, and desired he would make her a present of it, for she wished to use it when she returned home, having, as she said, been a great sinner.—— The Father, with great gallantry, begged she would spare her own fair skin, assuring her that he would give himself a hearty flogging on her account that very evening;—and to prove how much he was in earnest,fell directly on his knees before a little altar, and began to whip his own shoulders with great earnestness, declaring, that when the ladies should retire, he would lay it with the same violence on his naked body; for he was determined she should be as free from sin as she was on the day of her birth.
This melted the heart of the lady.—She begged the Father might take no more of her faults upon his shoulders.—— She now assured him that her slips had been very venial, and that she was convinced what he had already done would clear her as completely as if he should whip himself to the bone.
There is something so ludicrous in all this, that you may naturally suspect the representation I have given, proceeds from invention rather than memory. I assureyou, however, in downright earnest, that the scene passed nearly as described; and to prevent farther mischief, I put the scourge, which the zealous Father had made use of, in my pocket.
On my return to Vienna, I called the same evening at the Countess Walstein’s, and soon after the Emperor came there. Somebody had already mentioned to him the pious gallantry of the Father at the top of Mount Calenberg.—He asked for a sight of the whip, which he understood I had brought away:—I had it still in my pocket, and immediately showed it him.—— He laughed very heartily at the warmth of the Father’s zeal, which he supposed had been augmented by the Ambassador’s tokay.
You have often heard of the unceremonious and easy manner in which this great Prince lives with his subjects. Report cannotexaggerate on this head. The Countess Walstein had no expectations of his visiting her that evening.—— When the servant named the Emperor before he entered, I started up, and was going to retire.—The Countess desired me to remain, for nothing was more disagreeable to him than that any company should be disturbed on his entering.—The ladies kept their seats, some of them knotting all the time he remained. The men continued standing while he stood, and when he was seated, most part of them sat down also.—The Emperor put Count Mahoni, the Spanish ambassador, in mind of his gout, and made him sit, while himself remained standing.
This monarch converses with all the ease and affability of a private gentleman, and gradually seduces others to talk with the same ease to him. He is surely much happier in this noble condescension, and mustacquire a more perfect knowledge of mankind, than if he kept himself aloof from his subjects, continually wrapt up in his own importance and the Imperial fur.