| Transcript or Index | Saturday Octr 3d
By one of those sudden turns of weather which often surprized us in Switzerland, we had a bright and sunny morning which soon dried the streets. We climbed up to the Cathedral – a climb indeed – for we first had to descend a steep hill – then clamber up one, then up flights of 115 steep steps, to then another hill – but we found it very curious – particularly a porch in the south side, which is spacious and enclosed, and another still larger at the west end which forms a kind of antichamber to the nave. Papa and Mr. Bond and I were measuring and sketching all day in it, & only went out a little after dinner (having dined at the Table d’Hôte) to see the view from the terrace which is very fine; and as the sun shone brightly on some mountains throwing others into shade, Mr. Bond observed how impossible it was for a painter to imitate this colouring. He could only make some [?] of them black, yet black they were not, for we saw all their parts and a blue light seemed always floating before them and threw them into distance.
We had spoken to Emery, whom Miss Thomson recommended, about horses, but found him imposing and uncivil. Mr. Brooks who was an outpensioner of the Inn called on us in the Evening and prevented us from going to see Gibbon’s House which I am sorry for, but he helped to make our bargain with an honest German, who could not speak a word of French, to take us to St. Maurice on our route to Milan, for three Napoleons, return and self included. The Head waiter was obliged to attend as interpreter.
Mr. Bond came afterwards to take leave as he was going off by the Diligence at 6 the next morning, and we sent word by him to Miss Thomsons that we should follow in the afternoon.
Sunday Octr the 4th
[On the left page there is something written in Greek, I think, but I do not know what it says.]
We again visited the Cathedral and the Promenade, but I know not how we forgot Gibbon’s House. We attended Divine Service however, and I was much pleased with it. It was the first time I had been Swiss Service in its own country – and I liked the simplicity and intelligibility of it particularly after having stared so long at pomp of the Roman worship without comprehending it. I think that perhaps there are rather too few prayers, as in ours there are rather too many, but I like the praying after the Sermon.
Papa on thinking and calculating began to waver about Milan, so we got a gentleman who had dined with us the Table d’Hôte to aid us in remodelling our bargain with the German, so that we might have it in our power to change our minds when we reached Vevay, and either go St Maurice or Berne.
The Sun was bright and our ride delightful – the hills on both sides grew bolder and nearer and the valley of the Rhone opened with the Dente de Morgue and a mass of snow peeping over it to the left. But the rain got to Vevay [nowadays spelt Vevey] before we did. We had seen it envelopping Meillerie and St. Gingo [perhaps St Gingolph now?] and crossing over the lake to meet us. It ceased for a little while and we got down to the shore of the Lake to look at the mountains who appeared like mighty Ghosts thro’ the mist. We were obliged to make ourselves comfortable with a fire in an extravagant, and not very well attended Inn, the Lion D’or – and to write instead of walking.
Monday – Octr 5 –
[On the left page is this note – which isn’t clearly signalled in terms of where it belongs in the main text: Also the Castle of Chillon which from here looked of so little importance that in spite of Lord Byron I had forgotten it]
The sun shone but certain mists on the Mountains made us distrust his smile. Papa calculated and recalculated, and determined to abandon Milan – So wrote to Mr. Bond and Miss Thomsons in a hurry. Looked at the Lake and the Mountains which seemed more beautiful than they had ever done before in a mixture of mist sunshine and shadow which gave in particular a new and finer character to our old favourite the Dent de Morgue, whom I own it grieved me to part from than to miss Milan, and I regretted the Passage of the Simplon. But it was no use being disappointed and I had always thought the going farther a wild scheme as¬ we had to return before the winter and wondered papa had ever given into it. Before nine we were off towards Berne. For some distance we had to retrace our steps on the Lake, and then to wind up a hill which still commanded it among the fine vineyards for which the neighbourhood of Vevey is famous. The white grapes were the most abundant, and those which they brought us to table were even over ripe. The Lake was partly clouded, partly sunny, a coincidence of light particularly favourable to our distinguishing along it a clear blue line, which we supposed to be the proud Rhone, who scorns to mingle his [waters?] even with these clear and beautiful waves.
The hill we were climbing might in other places have been fairly called a mountain, and we noticed some houses perched on perpendicular crags as if to be inaccessible but I have no doubt they had roads to them which we saw not. We had long seen the clouds on the summit and at last ascended into them but they were complaisant enough to leave us, and allow us to enjoy our road thro’ the one of the most beautiful countries I ever saw. The horses stopped about 2 at Mendon to take their usual rest, and Papa and I with our usual acuteness smelt out a Church, which had an odd painted doorway outside, and was curiously painted within with a spacious middle aisle, and some columns with singular bases and capitals, a few of which I sketched after a fashion. From hence to Payanne we were more and more delighted with the scenery particularly with the situation of one or two towns and a castle, which were perched on great heights, and finely backed by wooden slopes. Indeed the whole of this ride was luxuriantly beautiful and a fine sun gave it all its effect, but it was dark before we got into Payanne – a small town but containing a pleasanter Inn than many we had been in. The LandLady and all the household seemed anxious to make us comfortable and we were attended by a brisk stout good looking girl who gave us our first specimen of the Bernese costume, but without its cap.
This costume consists of a black petticoat, covered or not by a white apron – a black velvet body low in front, and high behind, and embroidered in front with silver and little beads – a black velvet collar which helps to support the body as it has no shoulder straps, full white sleeves and habit shirt which are generally cleaner than one would think possible, and this girl [was?] like snow. Many of them wear, (as she also did) their light auburn hair plaited as a sort of coronet on the head but the more common dress is a skullcap of black taffeta , with two large wings of black gauze, which they call lace, but which only among the very higher peasantry at all approaches to it in quality, we afterwards saw many of these caps in heavy rain, and it was astonishing how they preserved their shape and stiffness. On the jours de fête I believe the cap is superseded by a broad brimmed straw hat. We had no good opportunity of judging of it in nature but it looks very well in a picture.
To return. – We had so magnificent a supper, considering the appearance of the house that we thought mine hostess must have intended to show off strangers. There were two men at the table, who had little the appearance of gentlemen, but they prove more intelligent than we expected. One of them had been in England and spoke with raptures of its verdure. I observed that Switzerland seemed to me as beautifully green. Yes said he for a fortnight or perhaps a month in the year, but yours is perpetual. He gave me less opinion of his taste when he afterwards began admiring our red brick houses, which he commented looked as well among the trees and the greens. He was probably a great proprietor and cultivator, but certainly a dealer in cattle. He praised the English Beef, and said they had no good beef in Switzerland, for that they sent all their finest beasts to Paris, and besides that beef was never good which had not travelled. He and the other gentlemen also proved afterwards to be somewhat of Greek scholars, and I left them with the impression that a good deal of classical knowledge is diffused among the Swiss proprietors, who, perhaps like the Icelanders, much isolated in the winter make books supply the place of society.
Tuesday Octr 6th
We were off by half past 8, but the fine weather was gone. We were soon in sight of the Lake Morat but our postillion when we came to Avenche (Aventicum) instead of ascending the hill which leads into the town, turned into the bed of a river which proved no pleasant road, though the stream was shallow – but remonstrations would have been in vain, for he could not understand us. We saw here a bit of an old ruin, probably Roman, but I doubt if even a romance writer could have given it interest. As we passed near the Lake we fancied we made out nearly the scene of the battle which Lord Byron makes so much fuss about, and wishes to place before Waterloo. Morat itself is a square fortified town built much on Arcades – but we merely drove thro’ it. The Lake has some fine hills rising above it – and in fine weather I dare to say would be beautiful. There is one place from which the Lake of Neuchatelis also seen, and we brought some violets from the spot. Our road continued beautiful – and we stopped to rest at Gumminen [Gümmenen nowadays], one of the most romantic towns I have ever seen – before we entered it we crost the Saane – a fine and rapid stream which falls into the Aar [Aare nowadays]. The bridge was of wood, and covered, and its situation was so beautiful that had we not misunderstood that we should cross it again I believe that we should have walked out in the rain to see it. The Inn was clean, and we were not prevented by the airs of a lofty vulgar looking lady, whom we suspected to be English (for we never heard her speak) from enjoying some excellent boiled tongue and potatoes for which we were charged only one frank. Lofty rocks rose before the Inn which was nevertheless in a little village, and behind they were in surplomb but the rain gave not a moment’s intermission, and we had cause to rejoice in the Swiss penthouses which allowed us to get dry into our carriage.
To Berne our road was as charming as ever, thro’ most beautiful forests, and up lofty hills, which ought to have given us fine prospects. Our horses were evidently somewhat fatigued, and I fancy they had been overworked before we had them, so our man borrowed a third to help them up the longest and heaviest of the hills, but he went very loose, and his master would not allow him to be whipped. It was really amusing to see our driver walking behind and swinging his whip about – and longing to give him a touch by accident. The approach to Berne is grand, and the entrance between two magnificent Bears of stone which reminded me of Tully Veolan. The right hand one resembled Mr. H. Elliott – tho’ perhaps he might not relish the comparison – but this bear was a very handsome fellow, and might have sate for the portrait of his own Biorno.
We past almost immediately by the fine new Church of St. Pierre, and could not help at once remarking the [Crossed out?] appearance of cleanliness, finish, and prosperity in every thing. The houses are entirely of stone and the whole town is built on Arcades or piazzas, which supplied a dry walk even in this heavy rain. The shops are behind there, and there appear to be cellars underneath which are entered from the Street but even these are protected by the broad Swiss penthouses which extend beyond the roofs. The spouts that carry off the water are the worst part of the contrivance. They are formed like a cannon, and poured a continual stream of so as to deluge us when we chanced to pass under. The stones beneath are worn away by the water. The streets are straight and spacious, well paved, with a covered stream running thro’ the middle, and plenty of fountains. On the whole Berne seems by far the finest town I have seen.
It was market day – and for some miles we had continuously met the peasants returning. The women seemingly regardless of the rain and all in their flycaps. It was in this days journey that we first observed the Bernese, or perhaps the real Swiss cottage – tho’ in Savoy we had seen some varieties of it. Dwelling house stables, hayloft and granary all under one immense roof, which projects far beyond the walls, so as to leave a dry walk all round the house, and to shelter the wooden galleries, in which the peasants probably enjoy a little fresh air when the snow may prevent them from walking out. These galleries frequently extend along two or three sides of the house and sometimes all round. In the commoner houses there is but one, but I have seen three, one above the other. There is also frequently a railing or a little enclosure round the houses at the bottom, like those to our English cottages and the whole are substantial and well built, proving that timber and land and labour are all cheap. Below and at one end, which is generally well glazed and <seemingly> well furnished, are the apartments of the family – to the side of these one or two arches mark the Coach houses, and all the upper space is filled with the Corn and Hay – which are never stacked in the fields as with us – I suppose for fear of snow, but this disposition makes a fire very fatal. The South end is that generally appropriated for the dwelling house and the Gallery (if the last be but on one side). Under the roofs we saw a great deal of indian wheat drying, and also tobacco which the peasants were still gathering in the fields. Nothing can be stronger than the <contrast between the> pretty, clean substantial picturesque cottages of Switzerland, with a stack of wood chopped to a proper size and piled against its side, and the dirty dilapidated, slovenly air of a french village. The Houses are as superior as the country, and instead of a straight road thro’ a flat desert, the paths turn forever, nature supplies the place of cultivation, and every knoll bears its little knot of cottages. In England, a gentleman may select beautiful scenes, but he must plant his park and wait its growth. Here with a very little attention he may find his park ready grown, wood and [stones?] are on the spot, and the streams prepared to water his garden, to feed his fountains or brawl along his path. He would only have to restrain its wanderings and prune the luxuriance of the forest. Nay if he chuse rightly, the eternal Ices of the Alps may close his prospect and contrast with the verdure of his vineclad hills.
We met at the Table D’Hôte a Swiss who had been I believe 12 years in America yet he had learned English but imperfectly. He had latterly [made?] some stay in England and I was amused to find him giving Papa exactly his own sentiments with regard to York Minster and other buildings as also in politics – not only about the affairs of America but those of the Westminster election. He was somehow other entitled to vote, so divided his suffrages between Sir M. Maxwell & Sir S. Romilly.
Wednesday Octr 7th
The rain continues but we have taken advantage of the Arcades, to walk nearly through the town. To see again our friends the Great Bears, and all the lesser Bears <that> adorn the public buildings, the fountains, the stalls of the cathedral, the Coin of the Canton – and even the tiles of our German stove at the Couronne. Surely Walter Scott must have taken his idea of Tully Veolan from Berne. We have even had a peep at the Aar on the Northern side winding below the town, and finer still to the South from the platform of the Cathedral where the hill on which the town stands is loftier – and the terraced gardens slope down from the rue des Gentilhommes to the Basse Ville, where the artizans reside. On the further side are some beautiful green hills, and one lofty mound whose top is enveloped in Clouds. The Cathedral is behind with a great variety of beautiful tracery for the capricious Architect seems to have determined to make no two doors, battlements or windows alike. The choir which is separated from the rest of the Church is lofty and the windows particularly elegant in their proportions. The nave seems to have been built since the time of Luther for it has no galleries, or hermitoires [? Unsure ?] and it reminded me of some of the Churches of the Netherlands. We have commenced sketching – have got one letter from home and written in return.
We had just dined, when our Landlord or more properly, the son of our Landlady came in, and asked if we would go to an exhibition of transparent views of Switzerland. About ½ past 7, he went with two ladies from the Inn to shew the way. The house was at some distance, and the room into which we were shewn at a great distance down a long entry, and upstairs. Here we found several persons and had a little leisure to examine a few portraits and several views of the falls of Shaffhausen, the Stanbach, and the Glaciers of the Junfrau, &c.
We were then summoned into a room where benches were placed, and was immediately darkened. The Isle of St. Pierre on the Lake of Bienne [this is now Biel] I believe led the way. It remained a few minutes, and as a shutter closed over it another rose at the side and shewed two boys blowing bubbles which formed a sort of interlude to the larger pictures. These were ten in number, with 4 interludes each appearing 2ce. I cannot pretend to remember the views in their order and some were indifferently painted –
2 A cottage at Interlachen
3 Interior of a Chalet
4 1st Chapel of William Tell where he escaped from the boat
5 2d Chapel where he slew the Governor
6 Interior of a Chalet
7 a chapel & Lake – Moon & Torchlight very well contrasted
8 The Jungfrau – sunset, twilight and night – well managed
Some of these were well painted, others but indifferent, and on the whole tho’ we were pleased to have seen them they did not give us any very high idea of the talents of the Artist. Unfortunately too for us, there was not one scene with which we were acquainted tho’ we afterwards saw some of them.
Thursday Octr 8th
Another wet day, spent in the Cathedral. At Night, we understood there was to be a play, so, tho’ it was in German, we went to it. We were a good past the time but there was only some scraping going on – which Papa thought execrable so I may be forgiven for not being amused. The Theatre and the company had neither of them much to excite attention, though the former would have been very well for a country town. I was surprized to see a stove pipes [sic] coming down <on each side> by the columns which supported the boxes, without disguise or ornament. The overture was succeeded by an interval – The interval by a prologue from a giant in black. The prologue by another interval – that by more scraping – then another interval, then another prologue from the same giant in a coloured dress, then as we believed an apology for some actor who was ill or not arrived – then another interval and the curtain drew up. The piece was Selim & Mirza – Mirza was asleep on the floor at the bottom of the stage, they could not even afford her a rock for a pillow. Selim after soliloquizing a quarter of an hour, at last perceived her, and picked her up. They fell in love of course and talked for some time. Then Selim went out, then came in and talked again – some difficulty seemed to lie in the way of their nuptials. He went out again – came in again – drew his sword, made signs of having his way with Mirza thro’ the enemy, and the piece finished with his first killing Mirza (who looked astonished at his boldness, and died thro’ fear before the sword reached her,) and then himself. Moonshine and Wall were left to bury the dead. It was
a tedious brief scene of Young Pyramus
and his love Thisbe – very tragical mirth –
or if you will –
It is a play, my lord, some ten words long
And yet, my lord, it is ten words too long.
In fact the piece took something less than an hour. The number of prologues at first reminded of Pyramus and Thisbe and I concluded by feeling how admirably Shakespear [sic] had caricatured such country theatricals. It is fair to observe that if Selim was tall enough for Goliah or Ajax Telamon, Mirza, was a true Bernese – with light hair and blue eyes – thick and short, and apparently about to increase the population of Switzerland. More scraping succeeded – then a prologue or epilogue from Mirza in a Bernese dress. Scraping again, and finally the Actor of All work by the same performers – nearly the same as we had seen it at Paris. Goliah did the Lady and the stammering postman particularly well, but he did not change his dresses on the stage.
Friday Octr 9th
Misty day – sketching in the Cathedral – I forget whether it was yesterday or today that the people gathering around us, & the service beginning all of a sudden while we were occupied made us feel a sort of necessity to stay it out. Could we have understood it this would have been a pleasure – but a sermon in German was as little edifying as it was amusing but it gave us an opportunity of feeling with still more force than when listening to casual remarks of the common people the excellence of Scott when speaking of Dousterswivel – “The execrations which the German hawked up from the pit of his stomach at the undaunted mendicant.”
It is indeed a hawking language. If the french speak in their nose the Germans speak from their stomach. I think it would make me sick to learn German.
Saturday Octr 10th
Again a misty day – again sketching in the Cathedral – with nothing worth remembering but the meeting with two Englishmen who had made a tour of Mont Blanc and afterwards of several parts of Switzerland.
Sunday Octr 11th
We hailed for the first time the golden sun – and with sunshine came warmth and spirits. We would not go again to German prayers so about 12 we walked out – and gave ourselves a great deal of trouble in finding a Mr. Koenig, an artist who turned out to be the same at whose house we had seen, the transparencies, and not the man we wanted. The houses in Berne are numbered in arrondissements, which are designated by the colour on which the number is painted. Koenig lived in the Quartier Blanc, quite close to us, and we were blundering about in a faded corner of the Quartier Jaune – and at last could not find the number, for as the numbers do not go straight on, but turn round every corner, No. 20 may be next door to No. 1140. I understand that Paris was numbered in this way before the time of Buonapparte and that nothing could be more inconvenient.
It was about one when we went again on the platform, expecting to see <our> prospect a little clearer. What was our surprize to find that the two green hills before us formed only the proscenium to an immense range of snowy mountains glittering in the sunshine. It was ridiculous to think that we had been for 3 days on the platform, and that we might have left Berne without knowing what a prospect we ought to have enjoyed. The Dolden Horn [nowadays Doldenhorn] peeped up over the dark Niesen at one end. The Blunilis Alp [this is how it looks in the diary but the spelling is Blüemlisalp], the Jungfrau, till lately unconquered, the Finster Aar Horn, highest of the chain, the dark and terrific Pyramid of the Shrekhorn [now Schrekhorn], or peak of terror, whose sides are too steep for the snow to rest on, and which stands distinct from the rest. The Wetter horn, with a wreath of mist hanging about it, in fact all the mighty chain of the Bernese Alps, which we thought were too distant to have a glimpse of, and which are I believe next to Mont Blanc, the most extensive range of snows in the Alps. I know not when I have been more surprized or delighted than with this sudden burst of prospect. It was what the Alps ought to have been to us from Jura, had the weather allowed them to appear clearer. Not Mont Blanc himself ever appeared so magnificent, even from the inner side of the lake, or the entrance to Valorsine. We gazed for a long time and descended by a straight stinking passage of innumerable steps (to which those at Lausanne were nothing) to the Basseville in hopes of getting ferried over, and climbing the opposite hill for a better view. We then clambered up again, and walked all up the town, stopping wherever there was a peep. We found that from the College the finest as it was most clear from the nearer hills. We came back reluctantly to our dinner, and left it in the middle that we might run off again to the Platform, and see the Alps in the Sunset.
Their sides were already looking grey and dim forming a fine contrast with the roseate light still lingering on their summits, growing less and less, but gradually and resting latest on the Jungfrau and the Finster Aar Horn. The Shreckhorn alone was unchanged and his steep sides looked black and bare as ever. The Silberhorn, or Western peak of the Jungfrau, is so placed as to throw at sunset on the valley of ice between that and the Eastern summit, a shadow, which to my fancy at least had the form of an eagle – at no other hour could I perceive the same effect.
Monday Octr 12th
We forgot not to take an early look at the mountains – and as we meant to take up some money here, we thought it was time to present our letter of credit. Few of the common people of Berne speak a word of French and the rest know little more than the number of franks or Batz [see comment] which they are to ask for their wares, so that we were sent to the House or Mr. Le Conseiller Zeerleder himself instead of his banking house – a very fortunate blunder for us, for tho’ we had no introduction beyond our letter of credit, we received every possible civility from him. He had been some months in England before the Revolution, had been well acquainted with Lord Sheffield, and spoke English well tho’ not with fluency. He was evidently a steady, sensible clever man, and Papa had a good deal of talk with him about the coinage of Switzerland. It is in a wretched state. Each Canton having its own money, which is forbidden to circulate in the other cantons, tho’ convenience sometimes breaks the law. At Geneva, we were plagued between the french and the Genovese money which seemed to circulate equally. The Genevese florin was equal to nine sous french – and 26 sous Genevese went to the french frank. Besides these there was the livre courant, in which the bankers [reckoned?] and which depended on the rate of exchange at Lausanne we began to be introduced to the Swiss Franc, equal to one franc & a half french. The grossecu, or old french crown of 6 livres, the old Louis, or old coin of 24 francs – and more troublesome still, the Batz, or small bellmetal coin of 3 sous, in which it is the custom to reckon all merchandize of the country, and which ought not to pass out of the Canton to which it belongs. The rest are current thro’ all Switzerland – but Berne has the privilege of coining with the impress of its own favourite [bear?], Louis or gold coins of 24 franks – francs – ½ and ¼ francs – Batzen also, and half Batzen. But the great inconvenience arises from these last, which are the only coins by any means abundant. The half and whole Batz, are so nearly of a size that it is only the stamp which distinguishes them, and no one who has not travelled in Switzerland cannot fully understand the plague of finding all your small money rendered useless by every ride of a few hours. My father complained a good deal of this to Mr. Zeerleder who explained the business. The silver money was all coined on the standard of the grossecu – which was now much deteriorated by wear. The Batz was on an inferior standard and its coinage was of course very profitable now the two new Cantons rent by Buonaparte from the territory of Berne, namely Argovia and the Canton de Vaud or Lausanne profiting by their new right of coinage had issued much more of these small monies than was wanted for their own use, and if the Bernese permitted them to circulate in their territory it would be in effect giving up the right of coinage. It happened that there had been many debates in the General Councils with the view of recalling the old coinage, and issuing a new one which should pass thro’ all of Switzerland and be more creditable to the Country. The difficulty seemed to rest with the two new Cantons which were refractory and refused to take back their own small money, or to engage not to coin more than was necessary for their own use – and of course the old Cantons would not be at the loss of melting down the Coinage of these their refractory brethren. There are many evils in a republic, and a striking instance it seemed to us, that Berne Zurich and Luzerne, the three regal Cantons, should not have the power of compelling these to an accommodation.
Mr. Zeerleder pressed us to take tea with him at 6 – but we had ordered our dinner at that hour that we might first enjoy the mountain sunset. He pressed us to dine with him the next day at one which we also declined – from 11 to one seems to be the dinner hour all over Switzerland. He finally recommended us to a Voiturier to furnish horses for our farther progress.
The sunset on the mountains was very fine but of course the same as yesterday. I had a good deal of talk with the upper fille at the Inn about their Sunday Evening dances – which however had been broken in on by the number of travellers – which prevented their getting out – but their was a dance at the Couronne every Evening in the winter. The winter began in November, and was very severe. The snow seems to be very deep and to remain a long time without melting. The Alps with all their beauty are better summer than winter neighbours.
Tuesday Octr 13
The flies have begun a new invasion with the return of hot weather, and are very troublesome. We called on Mr. Zeerleder about ½ past 12 and I fear at his dinner hour which shortened our visit, but we could not resist his desire that we should drink tea with him. Our voiturier came as we were setting out, to take our orders about departure, and I believe had had a battle with the master of our German driver, who thought that having brought us there he had a right to carry us onward. We were well enough pleased with our German to have continued with him, but he had got another party, and we neither knew that he had a master, nor that he would return in time. It was however certainly an advantage to us that our new driver spoke french.
The Baron von Hardenburg or Hardenbroeck – a Prussian – and a very gentlemanly man was at Mr. Zeerleders, and also Mr. [Moulinen / Moulineu?] the Avoyer of Berne who being the Chief Magistrate of the chief City of Switzerland, might be almost stiled the King of the Country. There are two Avoyers whose power alternates, each continuing in office a year.
*[inserted on the left-hand page:] This is an Officer called the Lauderman who is superior to the Avoyers. He continues in office 2 years, and is chosen alternately by the Cantons of Berne Zurich to Lucerne. The present Lauderman was of Lucerne.
Son Excellence seemed to understand our English very well tho’ he would not trust himself to speak it – and his manners spoke remarkably the consciousness of his exalted rank with a pleasant affability.
M. Zeerleder was urgent with us to visit Thoun, and finding that the Excursion need not occupy more than one day we consented. He offered us his horses, and said we might always accept what a Swiss offered. Nevertheless we declined, till on our return home he sent a note pressing his offer again, and sending his Coachman to receive our orders. This was too much. We were forced to annul the horses we had ordered, and to fix our departure at 8.
Wednesday Octr 14
We had a mist so thick that we doubted the pleasure of our excursion; We could scarcely see the Aar as we crost it, and we feared that the mountains might be still more invisible. We wished much to have looked back upon Berne to have caught a glimpse of the fine valley thro’ which we were proceeding. All we could see were the innumerable cobwebs which hung upon the firs thro’ which we past, in some places, and seemed to have blasted them.
It was near ten oclock when it cleared up. The snowy mountains appeared not but we were travelling along the chain of the Niesen, and looking on the Stockhorn and another curious peak which always seemed just at our side, tho’ they varied a little in shape as we advanced. This chain was like the Warrin not easily to be got rid of, for it accompanied us the whole way. We were very <much> pleased with our ride, when we could see it, and with nothing more than the large substantial and handsome Bernese Cottages which we met at every step. About half past ten we stopped at Kissen – The country seat of a Swiss Gentleman, to enjoy the view from his terrace, which has a fine command of the Niesen, but looks not beyond it. The House and Gardens are both pretty, and let at present to an English Gentleman.
We expected to have found Thoun only a village – but it is a romantic town, with the Church and Castle perched on high, and the blue Aar rushing thro’ it from the Lake crowned with three covered bridges of wood, clear and rapid as the Rhone. Its current was reckoned too strong for us to sail up, so we took a waiter from the Inn to guide us to Hafstetten [should be Hofstetten?]. He was a brisk agreeable young man, and much pleased with his employment, for he had not been out all the summer, it being the duty of the other waiter to accompany travellers, & he owed his present appointment to his power of speaking french – being a Vandau from Avenche itself. He seemed to speak french and German with equal ease and was busy during the whole time in collecting and communicating information. Our walk to Hofstetten by the banks of the river was very agreeable notwithstanding the great heat of the day. We turned on a sudden out of a lane thro’ which we were walking into a garden which led to the lake – a boat with two rowers was soon ready and we launched upon its azure waves. The waters were clear and calm as if no wind had ever ruffled them, and the heat so great that it might have been the dog days – we were glad to attack the small stock of provisions we had brought with us. As we sailed on the Niesen, and the Stockhorn grew nearer on the right, and the Blumlis [sic] Alp with its rounded brows rose more and more majestic. The Jungfrau, the Meunier/ Meunier??, and the Mont Aigu, next came in prospect, and finally the Shreckhorn reared his tremendous peak to the left. Our view on this side was bounded by the precipitous ridges of the Vent Fleur, which like the Niesen rose black again the snows, but I believe they produce a good many views. All the mountains we now saw, and many more, were in our prospect from Berne, but here they were nearer and more open, they seemed to rise directly above the Lake, and their forms varied at every instant. The Blumlis Alp looked rounder, and more extensive. The Jungfrau more steep and inaccessible, & the Shreckhorn more black and terrific. Its dusty ridges stood up like the bristled back of the hyena, and I believe they have hitherto deterred every one from attempting them. Two Messrs. Meyer of Germany, are said to have twice ascended the Jungfrau, and to have planted a signal there the 2d time. I believe there is little doubt of the fact, but the inhabitants of Thoun who are jealous of the virgin fame of their favourite mountain, affect to disbelieve it. After sailing about an hour up the lake we landed on its right hand or western shore, and walked for nearly a mile thro’ a thicket. The narrow and often awkward path admitting but one person at once. A few yards beyond this copse was the object of our walk – a bridge of the Kandar, in a situation of singularly romantic beauty. This river had formerly a wide and winding channel which changed almost every year, and wasted a great deal of valuable ground. The inhabitants dug a little ditch for it, about five years ago, and it had since eaten the deep and romantic glen thro’ which it now flowed. The bridge entirely of wood and of a construction much esteemed in the Country, hung over it like the Devils bridge at a great height, and was just between the high dark and wooded? rocks which it had worn away on one side, and the flat country thro’ which it afterwards flowed to the Lake. In some parts the banks were steep – in others crumbled down – and in others again already clothed with vegetation. The scene was very fine. We pursued I dare to say for at least two miles the road which led over the bridge along the banks of the lake, in the hopes of catching a glimpse of Interlacken and the Lake of Brientz, or a fairer view of the snowy mountains. We were disappointed, the shore of the Lake twisted about too much to allow the former without a longer walk than we judged prudent, having to return, and the shores of the Lake were so abundant in wood, that at the best points for viewing the mountains, we could hardly see them at all. We therefore scrambled up a hill to our right, whence we had a fine prospect of all we had seen before, with the Finster Aar Horn entering the scene from the left. From the Platform at Berne this mountain seems to form the Eastern point of the Chain of the Jungfrau, while the Shreckhorn stands isolated, far to the left. Here, the Shreckhorn appeared much nearer to the Jungfrau, with the Finster Aar Horn much to the East. In fact the Finster Aar Horn is much behind all the rest, and I believe nearly in a direct line with the Shreckhorn, so that its apparent place changes with every motion of the spectator.
[left-hand page: Here I gathered a good deal of the grass of Parnassus, and the Gentian Glomerata.
Boat 6 francs – french. ]
It is not by protracting this description that I can give any idea of the delight which we experienced in this little excursion, or the feelings with which our eyes lingered on the retiring mountains as we rowed back upon the Lake or contemplated the scenes of softer beauty which were upon us. We peeped at Bellerive the campagnge of M. Moulineu [Moulinen?] the Avoyer – but we saw nothing but a flat shore and a grove of poplars, which did not tempt us to land. We now entered the current of the Aar and rowed down it much lower than the place where we had embarked. The villages and the shores as they closed upon us formed beautiful foregrounds to the mountains, and narrowed them into scenes within the compass of a picture. We had only a short walk back to Thoun, but our Coachman took the privilege of a borrowed servant, to make us wait a little and we did not get off till 4. Our views were not so fine as in coming but we admired many a beautiful Bernese cottage till then enveloped in mist and our winding road thro’ a beautiful wood. But mist and darkness closed in on us again before we got back to the Couronne when we found ourselves too much fatigued to call upon Mr. Zeerleder.
Thursday Sr 15 –
We took our leave first of the Cathedrale and then of M. Zeerleder, who was delighted to find we had enjoyed our excursion to Thoun and would not rest till he had made us promise to take the road from Bienne to Basle, tho’ as we wished to see Soleure, it was a good deal out of our way. Papa shewed him a few lines which I had written on the view from the platform, and he would make an exchange of a coloured print of the view for the verses. He first shewed it us in the frame and it was afterwards taken out and rolled up for us. His reason for not allowing us to purchase one ourselves was that the man who had coloured that was dead, and we might not get one so well done. This was an additional reason for being delicate in accepting it, but he told me in french that if he wished to keep it he would not offer it, and he hoped it would give me no very great pain to accept it if I remembered what he had told me, that a Swiss never offered what he wished to have refused.
From M. Zeerleder’s, we went to the Museum for engrossed by the Cathedral we put off seeing it till the last day. We were just in time to get a good view of the animal part, which is pretty considerable and I think very interesting as it consists entirely of animals belonging to, or at least found in Switzerland. I think I never saw anything finer of its kind, or better presented than the two bears, and particularly the male. His coat is so fine and hangs so well, and his attitude is so natural that he almost seems alive. I believe these bears were taken on the Italian frontier – and kept for some years in the fosse at Berne. We understood that there are two now there, but we did not go to see them. There are very fine specimens of the wolf, the Lynx, the Chamois, the Chenvreuil, the Boue and the Bouquetin, &. We understood that the Chamois are now more abundant in the Bernese Alps than in Savoy – where they have been overhunted. The best hunter of Berne is a Minister or clergyman who used to live near the snows and who added to his clerical functions the profession of Innkeeper. But the other Inkeepers found that every one went to his house, and contrived that he should be removed to another living. I believe that before travelling in the Alps became so general as it has been of late years the houses of the Clergymen, being somewhat better than those of their parishioners, were the only ones that could lodge occasional strangers. At first they received no recompense, then, the increase of travellers made it necessary to accept it. Then they began to make a charge, and finally regular inns were established.
In the Bernes-Alps we were told that the Chamois were frequently seen in troops of 30 to 40, feeding among the sheep or the goats – but the moment that a man approached, they were off like the Lightning, to the most inaccessible rocks.
As may be expected, the Bernese collection was rich in Eagles, Vultures & falcons, not forgetting Owls, ravens, Bats and other birds of sinister augury. The small birds were numerous, and many of them beautiful – different varieties of stork made a good figure and the water fowl, and long billed birds were not deficient – but I was astonished to see the Pelican and the Flamingo in the collection. I was told that in 1811 a flight of 30 flamingos was observed who it was supposed were wanderers from more tropical climes – 2 were here, at Strasbourg and perhaps others were shot which may be preserved in other collections. The Pelican was probably a similar wandered.
This collection is exceedingly well preserved and the woman who shews it is mistress of her subject. In descending to the minerals I could not say the same. For a country so fertile in specimens they are astonishingly poor and few and the man understood little about them.
I have forgotten to say that tho’ this morning was apparently fine at Berne – and the sun shone bright upon us as from a cloudless sky, the Alps were as completely invisible to us as they had been in the days of mist and rain, and it was not till about 12 oclock that they became apparent. We then ascended the tower of the Cathedral, by a light and pleasant staircase, which gave us as we ascended a better view of the caprices of the Architect and a more and more glorious view of the mountains, of whom we took leave with no common regret. They were friends we could scarcely hope to see again.
Friday Octr 16 –
We were decreed never to see the environs of Berne, for this morning was as misty as ever. We were off by nine. The roads to Soleure had less of beauty than any part of Switzerland I have traversed, and a mizzling fog did not shew it to advantage. We stopped a short <time> while the horses were fed at [blank space for name – never filled in] a small village, tho’ the distance to Soleure was but 5 leagues. Here in spite of weather we sketched two cottages, good example of Bernese Building and gathered the white Burrage [?? Borage?] which I had never seen before, and gigantic specimens of Chickweed and Bugle.
As we were again approaching the Jura we ascribed our ungenial weather to its influence – but we found much amusement in Soleure. In the first place it is a very antient town having been under the name of Solothurnum a Roman station, and one square tower of Roman masonry still continues. In the 2d it is a very picturesque town, and the Cathedral of St Ours, (or the Blessed Bear) stands very finely above the town. It is a modern structure of very good Architecture and I fancy has been considerably raised above the level of the ground for it ascended by several flights of steps, and the enclosure or churchyard, is paved with large flat slabs, covering vaults intended for graves – but the spaces between them allowed us to look down, and I believe that hardly any of them are yet tenanted. It was curious to pass at once out of a Protestant Canton into one so apparently bigottedly Catholic as Soleure. On these gravestones were many little rude wooden tripods, supporting vasons of holy water, and we saw a sort of procession of ecclesiastics who bowed and crossed themselves before them. We met them at every turn – and several young women that we met wore mourning so deep that I took them for nuns – but the nuns never leave their convents. There are 3 in the town, & 3 monasteries. It is the fashion to cover the lower windows of all the houses with iron gratings, which gives the town a conventional air, and we saw one house, which was painted first of a dingy colour, and then emblazoned in gold and colours with Saints and Apostles. We were told that it was a very old house and that this mode of painting was formerly very general and much admired. I think that I was never in any place where superstition seemed so strongly established as at Soleure, unless it be Antwerp. We met ecclesiastics at every step, and the Churches had an air of greater gloom and frippery than is usual in France. We saw another Church besides the Cathedral but I believe it had little worth remembering. It was cinquecento.
[left-hand page]
We walked down to both the Bridges, and again admired the clear, blue and rapid waters of our old friend the Aar, who is here embanked with stone, and looks most majestic. What ought the Rhine to be when he receives such tributaries. We had again at dinner today those little blue fishes with large heads which always reminded me of Carathis [?], or of the Arabian Tales. Their skins are remarkably thick, and I was told that their blue colour was augmented by rubbing them with vinegar as soon as taken. At first I could not think them wholesome, but they proved the best fish we met with, especially with some exquisite Mushroom Ketchup. They were everywhere called trout but were little like them – tho’ they were spotted. Their great heads gave them almost the form of a piper – at Bienne we had them from another stream, at Soipere [?] from the Birs, & at Basle from the Rhine.
[right-hand page]
I rather think the original Cathedral had been destroyed in the Revolution. This is dedicated to St. Ours, and St. Victor, two aboriginal heroes, who delivered the town of Soleure from the 1st attacks of the Romans. The fortifications are not Roman but still very old. They are remarkable for several broad low round towers, with a sort of Moorish Dome, which gives them exactly the form of a Beehive. The views from the ramparts, of several parts of the Jura, and some independent hills I dare to say would have been fine in better weather – but they were neither equal to what we had seen nor to what we met after – about a league from Soleure is the Wissenstein, a mountain of no difficult ascent, and which is reckoned to be almost unmatched for the fine view it affords of the whole chain of the Alps, from Mont Blanc to the East. We had thought of ascending it, but as the clearest weather is necessary for the enjoyment of the view, it is needless to say we abandoned it.
Saturday – Octr 17 –
We bought of the Innkeeper 2 prints of the Cathedral and left Soleure between nine and 10, for as we only had 5 leagues before us to Bienne, we did not hurry. We were still under the sinister influence of Jura, and saw but little of its beauties tho’ the country was certainly improving, and as we came to Bienne we saw some bold hills and particularly one on our right which I understood we were to ascend the next day. We anticipated rain and determined to lose no time in trying for a glimpse of the Lake which we obtained only from the farther extremity of a very long promenade. It was of course triste and gloomy, as were the mountains at the other end. We were not tempted to make a pilgrimage to Isle of St. Pierre, where Rousseau found 2 months refuge on being expelled from Geneva. Indeed I believe we saw it nearly as well as if we had been nearer. It seems a pleasant romantic spot.
The Church of Bienne was the least worth remembering of all we saw, and had been refitted. The town was dirty, with narrow winding streets, and neither the regular beauty of Berne, nor the picturesque neatness of Soleure. Its only attraction was some curious fountains. William Tell of course was here, as every where – and St George and the Dragon. We had noticed him once before on a sign and I believe also on a Church.
[left-hand page]
I had here a great squabble with the Landlady. I had agreed with the girl to pay 4 francs par tête for the dinner, and was charged 5 – I suppose Madame did not agree to what her servant had done, and she had not come back to tell me.
Sunday Octr. 18 –
[There is a pretty sketch of the area by Eleanor on the left-hand page]
Was gloomy as its predecessors, but the threatened rain fell not. We went back about half a league on our former steps, by the side of a river, and then began to climb the mountain, as lofty as our first ascent of the Jura but not so interesting, for we did not wind back so often upon the plain. It gave us however one view of Bienne, its Lake, the Mountains and the Island of St. Pierre. We overtook many a party of goats going forth rejoicing for their daily ramble. We were again in the Jura not at such an elevation as in our former passage yet of a grander and sublimer character. Yet I know not how words can distinguish one deep glen or one pineclad steep from another. At one place we looked down a precipice of tremendous depth, closed by a sharp ridge which from its shape papa called the Shreckhorn. At its base and in a spot apparently unattainable stood a village – when all at once the valley opened and we saw roads and rivers winding below us, and broad roofed hamlets and herds studding the green pastures. We came to one long flat valley, with a stream winding thro’ it and receiving tributaries from the hills which rose so regularly on each side as to give it exactly the character of the Alpine valleys, which for the most part being very long, straight and seen all at once are much less various and beautiful than those of Jura, tho’ they have a grandeur of character from the giant Mountains that enclose <them> which is often unequalled. In our former views of the Jura the hills were mostly covered with turf or pines even to their summits, but here the tops were generally steep crags which sunk perpendicularly into woods of pine, and how beautiful are the pines of Jura! I had not been used to admire firs, and should have thought such tracts of country covered with them must have been at once dark and monstrous – but their green is so fine, there is so much of regularity yet beauty in their aspect, and their forms when seen singly are so majestic that I could not help being delighted with them. The species seem various – some bearing their cones upwards some downwards, but they are all very different from our gloomy scotch fir. I remarked no larches in Jura, but in one place particularly there were a number of aged Cypress, which might have been selected by Venus herself as models of her favourite tree.
It was not long after we had passed the valley of which I have before spoken that we left our carriage to contemplate more at leisure the fall of a small river which in my opinion is much finer than the boasted Cascades of the Alps. The body of water is such as to give grandeur, the chute is considerable, and afterwards its waters foam among rocks of no ordinary size – which are black with moss, while the white waters glitter in the sunshine – around them are trees, above them rough and perpendicular crags, and beyond the green or rocky brows of the Jura – which literally deserves the epithets which Honour bestows on Mount Ida – pineclad, and abounding in streams. About 12 oclock we came to the Pierre Pertuis – a wall of rock through which the road has been made. On the nearer side its appearance is picturesque and the country seen thro’ it has a good effect, but both are less fine from the other side. I meant nevertheless to have sketched it, for it was about a mile off that our horses took their wonted rest, but the heat overcame Papa and he took an [idle/ill??] fit. I forgot to notice that the sun burst forth while we were in the Alpine Valley above named, and the sun in the mountains, as if it loved the gorgeous scenes on which it rested, seems to give superior warmth & lightness to the air, and shines with a lustre unknown in the plains below.
But we had not yet entered the finest part of our ride. Soon after leaving the Pierre Pertuis we came [came repeated?] to a spot where we could not conjecture what would be the outlet and turned suddenly to follow the course of a river which we traced almost from its source to the spot where it falls into the Rhine. The river was on our right – perpendicular or overhanging rocks rose immediately beyond it, and on the other side left only room for the road which had been dug in them. Many a natural cave might have sheltered a troop of banditti, but a rude cross or the image of the Virgin were their general ornaments. Before and behind the glen was generally closed by rocks. We crossed many a picturesque bridge when the road along which we passed could no longer be continued on the same side of the stream. Whenever a little mould gave space for its roots the universal pine varied the rocks, and if a few feet intervened between the road and the river, a mill or a pretty swiss cottage filled the space. It was at once savage and beautiful. A Country which could not be conceived – a Country which for many would be the same in description, and yet varied at every step.
At length we left these rocks to recover the milder beauties of Jura. It was not five oclock when we reached Mottier [on modern maps this is Moutier], the usual resting place. We expected to have slept at Dellémont [modern maps have this as Delémont], a town of some size, but we found it was a league out of the [?] so as it was so early we decided to push on to Soihere [this is spelled Soyhières now]. We thought we had left our crags and cascades, but had scarcely quitted Mottier when we plunged again into others of even a wilder character, often the white crags which rose above the woods looked like the remains of antient castles, and two or three times on steps apparently inaccessible to human tread, were truly the remains of massy fabrics whose history is lost in the obscurity of ages and which have preserved neither their names nor the memory of their founders.
We reached Soihere by the light of a waning moon, but it shewed that it was beautifully situated near the Birs, whose course we were still following. Indeed nothing is more remarkable than the number of picturesque hamlets and cottages which are everywhere scattered even in the craggiest scenes of Switzerland, as if even its rudest inhabitants had some feeling of the beauty of the situation – and the meanest that we saw, with their little enclosures, the tobacco or the maize drying under the large roof and the provision of wood for the winter, had more an air of comfort than those of a french village.
The Inn at Soihere hardly pretended to the title but rooms were clean, the provisions and wine good, and we were served with cheerfulness and pleasure by a girl whose rosy cheeks were a treat after the Gorgons of Soleure. Soiheure was formerly french and its inhabitants retain their language and catholic worship tho’ since the pease they have been annexed to Berne. The sounds which frequently reached us from the salle below told that singing was here deemed no infringement on the Sabbath.
Monday Octr 19 -
We were charged the enormous sum of 52 Buts alias 5 swiss francs, 6 sous – or 7 f 16s french. Our fair attendant’s brother was a student and was gone to the College at Dellémont, where he was learning German and Latin. The morning was bright, and nothing could be more beautiful than the scene all around us. The river in front – a lofty wood clad hill beyond it – behind another on which stood a Castle, and before us, others between which we looked for into a lovely valley. Their tops were as usual craggy, and their sides clothed with various wood to which a bright sunshine and the ruddy tints of Autumn gave their fullest beauty. I should have delighted to have spent a week in this spot, with no other object than the full enjoyment of its charms, but the regulations of Switzerland, which make one pay full as high for keeping the horses idle as for employing them, made any rest out of the question and we were off betimes. We had no longer to thread any of those savage glens I have before described. The country assumed more the character of our former passage of the Jura, the hills grew less and less, the pines were gradually exchanged for more various shades, and finally for the ugly funereal Scotch fir, till on leaving the Canton of Berne we found ourselves suddenly in a dead flat, with Basle before us at 2 leagues distance. We reached the town about 2. It has nothing very beautiful in itself and it augured little from the dark brick red colour of the Cathedral. But after establishing ourselves at the Savage we walked out.
The Hotel de ville, which stands in one of the markets is a curious building much in the style of those in the Netherlands, or of that part of the Courts of the Dukes of Burgundy which we saw at Dijon, but it is painted inside and out of the same dingy hue as the Cathedral. This colour is a universal favourite, and is daubed on the window frames and every part of the houses which will possibly admit of it. We went up the antique staircase and peeped into some chambers ornamented with pictures in fresco, of Roman subjects. We then made our way to the Rhine – and admired from the bridge this noble river rushing majestically by – with its clear blue waters. Yet I was surprized to find it much less wide than the Thames at Westminster, being from actual measurement above 650 feet in breadth on the bridge. It would have been enlivened by more traffic, for it had now only two or three inconsiderable barges upon it, but they say that the current is too rapid to admit of much navigation. The bridge is principally wood, but in the strongest of the stream the Arches are of stone. We had a fine view on the other side of the Petit Basle, which answers to our Borough of Southwark, and beyond the Mountains of the Black Forest which seem to rise almost directly from its banks and establish it as a natural boundary between France and Germany. On the French side of the river was dead flat before us. The Blue Mountains of the Vosges darkening the Western distance, and behind us, the Mountains of Jura of Basle & even of Zurick. It was a very fine day, and we enjoyed it <much, but> still more a day or two after from the towers of the Cathedral.
The Cathedral proved more interesting than we expected from its colour. Its towers were of elegant proportions, and as we saw when we ascended them, admirably worked of two <equestrian> saints who adorned the Western front, and St George was one. The interior is antient, being much of it in what we call the Lombard style. With thick and rather short columns, Mr. Bond would say that there are some very interesting passages in it. Before the choir is an elegant screen of 4 arches, the tracery very light and beautifully carved in stone. The pulpit and front are also remarkably elegant, and as delicately worked as if they were of wood. The choir is very much raised, and its columns or rather pillars are very short, and oddly clustered together into masses which are neither Lombard nor Gothic – but above them is a handsome and spacious gallery – from which we went to the room which formerly witnessed the Councils of Basle. It now contained a few fossils and minerals of the Country and some electrical machines belonging to M. Schnell, the Concierge of the Cathedral, who was Clerk, Sexton, sweeper, Bell ringer, Mineralogist, Geologist, Electrician and Antiquary in one. But his professed trade was book binding. He spoke English very well, and could talk with Papa about York Minster and Westminster Abbey, having married a Kentish woman and lived some years at Halifax. His present wife was a Swiss, and according to the custom of the Country he had added her name to his own. He seemed to have a good deal of intelligence of every subject and to be well respected in the town. His wife was rather superior in her manners and spoke french well – and his boy was of good promise. His salary I understood was not much, but he had his house and and [sic] more corn and wine than he could use.
Under the choir was a fine crypt, containing some old monumental figures, and adorned with many paintings al fresco in very vivid colours. An Architectural student was making a drawing here, but I do not think that he had chosen the best spot. Under the high altar was a spot which reminded me of the Holy Hole at Winchester. It was a sort of rude chapel enclosed which Schnell said was intended for the solemnities of good Friday when the entombment and resurrection of our Saviour are represented in the Catholic Churches.
The Cathedral of Basle contains several interesting monuments of the Chevaliers of Richenbach [on the left page EP has written Riechenbach] and Arlesheim, and perhaps some of those other ruined castles which we had seen on a lofty hill to our right before we entered the town. One Castle at the end of the Jura seemed quite to black up the gorge of the valley, but of the all the heroes which were once their pride, not even the name remains. There was also the tomb of Bertha, the wife of Rodolph of Hapsburg, of [left blank to fill in later?] and of Erasmus, who died at Basle. The first is interesting from a good monumental figure of Bertha, but that of Erasmus would have but little interest but for his name.
There is an extensive double Cloister to the Cathedral, of good Architecture, but defaced the red colour of the stone. The sides are thickly studded with sepulchral tablets, & the walks are paved with grave stones like the Churchyard of Soleure. A part was fenced off and I fancy is still used as a burying ground. From these Cloisters one enters on one side the Cathedral, and on the other a fine shady terrace commanding a noble view of the Rhine, the Bridge, Petit Basle, and the Black forest.
The Duke of Kent was at the three Kings which we felt as an additional reason for being pleased with the Savage [?] tho’ we wanted none. I was much amused with the Garçon, or rather the Sommeiller as he is called in Switzerland, and which I believe to be an office of trust and confidence superior to that of the waiters both in France and England as the Sommeiller seems almost to manage the house. He was intelligent in what he knew – and anxious to gain every possible intelligence about England. The daughter of the House was a young woman of remarkably agreeable manners, and much pleased at being admitted to a little conversation. She spoke french with a strong German accent but she had also studied a little English. I grew much pleased with her.
We had a little dispute with our driver about the abonnement which was at last referred to M. Zeerleder. I was sorry for it as he had been very civil while in our service.
Tuesday – Octr 20 –
Has been forestalled in Monday. It was spent between the Rhine, the Cathedral, & a pretty fountain in the fish market, being a triangle above a hexagon – with three figures on the sides and canopies over them.
Wednesday – Octr 21 –
The Cathedral again and then the Museum. It is usually open only on Thursdays but we had addressed a note to M. Huber Professor of Mathematics – so it was opened for us. The outside of Books are nearly alike in all places but here were many original drawings of Hans Holbein, portraits of himself and Erasmus. The original letters and will of the latter who seems to have written a good clear hand, and a copy of the original Dance of Death, painted by order of the Council of Basle long before the time of Holbein on account of the plague which ravaged the City. A curious work some parts of which I should have liked to have seen with more attention, but little in the taste of modern feeling or mortality and yet we can admire similar ideas in Shakespeare
In comes the Antic, Death, &c but I believe than many of our most admired and original metaphors, or rather figures will not bear translation of any kind. As Papa instanced –
A time there was that when the brain was <out>
The man would die.
How could this be put into French without becoming disgusting. I have not time, or I might multiply instances.
But what most interested Papa were two Volumes of Drawings, of the Cathedral, very correct and highly finished. They were the amusement of a master baker of the town who afterwards presented them to the Museum. The minerals were but poor and our Conductor knew nothing about them.
[left-hand page:]
It was this same day that we climbed the tower of the Cathedral the workmanship of which we found more and more reason to admire as we ascended it. There is a good saloon under each tower, which would be no unpleasant spot for a Summer evening party, when all the view which I have before described would be in perfection. We saw it very finely.
On leaving the Museum we went to the House of Merian and De Spyr, and found Mr. Pictet’s recommendation of us followed as usual by every attention. Mr. Merian however advised us to take the road by the Rhine to Strasbourg instead of that thro’ Colmar – and told us some terrible tales of the severity of the Douanes which we did not find realized. We then walked into the petit Basle but saw nothing worth remembering except a pretty [font?] which Papa and I sketched between us in a Church of little interest. We therefore returned home to prepare for our departure on the morrow.
Thursday – Octr. 22 –
We took leave of the Cathedrale its Concierge measured the Rhine, and were off between 12 and one for France, hoping to sleep at Neuf Brisach. It is only reckoned one league to St. Louis the French frontier, but for this we were obliged to hire horses, as the posting commences only from St. Louis, and were charged 12 francs – but I believe that the Swiss league is much longer than the french. Instead of the troublesome examination we expected at St. Louis, we had a printed list on a board handed to us – of such articles that it was necessary to declare, and we stated that we had none, my petite boîte blanche was just looked into, and we passed on. We were detained longer by the passport which it was necessary to have visé – but M. Le Ministere de Police, was playing at Billards [sic?], and we could not force him to sign it out of regular hours, though I believe he shortened his game and hastened down to the office to the [sic] oblige us. It is worth notice that the very first thing we saw on entering France, on the first house in St. Louis was “Loterie Royale.”
We were now again in France, and trotted on briskly thro’ two stages thro’ a flat that had little variety, and told us every moment that we were in France again. The Rhine was less near to us than we had expected, but we got some fine peeps at him, and were much pleased with views of the Black Forest, which was a mere mountainous scene was one of the finest we have had. The nearer summits being less lofty that [sic?] those beyond and the farther ones of different sizes and shapes we seemed to see into a great extent of mountainous country than we had usually done, and if we were too far off to have much variety of colour, the sable hue of the forests which covered most of their sides fully vindicated their title. These mountains increased and opened upon us as we advanced but the blue Vosges were still enveloped in mists. We past thro’ Gros Kembs & got to Bantzhenheim where a damsel came out and said she was sorry to tell us we could go no farther that night. The post at Fessenheim was vacant, and before we could get on to Neuf Brisach (the stage beyond) the gates would be shut. They were always closed at ½ past 6. This was no pleasant intelligence, but it bore truth on its face and I got out as usual to look at the beds – “à quoi bon célà, said the damsel, “s’ils ne vous conviennent pas, il faut également rester. I thought I perceived however that this odd speech was as much the result of imperfect knowledge of French, and a want of acquaintance with the manners of Inns and travellers <as of any wish to be rude> so as it was moreover truth I took no notice of it. We got two chambers one at each end of a long saloon but we were forced to submit for the first time to having these warmed by a German stove. I thought for some time I should not have got Ma’amselle to understand my meaning when I asked for a chimney but she told me at last that she knew what I meant for she had seen such things, but I should not meet with them in Alsace, but she understood they had them in France. I had found some difficulty at Basle, but conquered it by mounting another story. We had an indifferent dinner, and were ill attended for Ma’amselle by way of compliment chose to serve us herself, and was too proud to do it effectually. Whenever I asked her to do anything she answered “Je vais appeller la servante and as la servante did not always come we had to wait. She told me that she hated the Germans, and as for the Parisians, when they came she never went near them, for they were so fine and wanted so much attention, and it was necessary to be so civil to them, she could not put up with it. She always sent the servant. She was not obliged to wait on any one, when she did it, it was for her own pleasure. I asked her, since she hated the Germans and did not like the Parisians who she did condescend to like. She said she was an Alsacian, and she liked the people of her own village. Few travellers she said came that road, and <that they should not have> the posting above three months longer, for the man at Fessenheim being dead no one would take his place it was so unproductive, and two other postmasters intended to give up, so it would be too far for them to communicate, and they must <give> up too, and it was a pity, for it was much the finest road of the two. I observed to her that when there was no posting that way they would have but little to do, meaning in the Inn. Oh, she said, we have always plenty to do, my father has never less than 25 or 30 workmen, there are 25 now at supper in the Kitchen. He is a Farmer then said I. She fired at the word as implying a renter of the soil, a cultivator for another, and replyed, no! he was a proprietor, he possessed near 300 acres, and that was more than double what anyone else in the village had. They did not depend on the posting, and as for the Inn, it was rather a trouble to them, but since the post at Fessenheim was vacant, they were obliged to take people in to sleep – with all this, I think she did not like the idea of giving up the posting.
I had a good deal more talk with her on various subject, among others the French and German Languages. She told me that the German was a much finer language than the french when it was properly written or spoken, but that they spoke very bad German there, so that any one who spoke it correctly would hardly be understood. She subscribed to the Library at Neuf Brisach, and when she chose books, she always took German ones. (She did not speak French very ill, but for my own part I think it probable that she would have found french books more difficult.)
The Duke of Kent had been there the day before, under his travelling name of Count of Dublin. She did not seem to know he was a son of the King of England, nor could she understand why he should travel incognito or that it would have been necessary for the towns thro’ which he past to pay him any more respect had he travelled as Duke of Kent. She thought at first it had been the Emperor of Austria, as he was travelling about very near, and I believe the Emperor would have made as little impression on her. She was curious about England, but it was the curiosity of pride, rather than of ignorance or intelligence. The Duke of Kent had been detained two hours at this Inn by the breaking down of one of his Carriages; if he had any talk with her, and she would have no bashfulness about the matter, I think he must have [been? Seems to be missing] more amused even than I was, with the lofty airs of this Alsacian Damsel. Had I staid a day or two, I would have given her a few hints, but as it was I rather wished to give her an opportunity of shewing herself and took care not to offend her.
I am inclined to think the Alsacians a proud race who though they have been obliged to defend for protection either on [?] France or Germany have still been proud of their independent principality. I saw at Strasbourg some account of the Congress at Aix La Chapelle having guaranteed to them the right of Jury, and some other privileges which they had professed [while?] under the Austrian dominion. I think it will be sometime at least before they can feel themselves entirely french.
Friday Octr. 23rd.
We were off by about half past 8, and were consoled by my gentle friend, who told us, just as we were departing that we should be too late to get into Strasbourg as the gates shut at ½ past 6 – and we had nine posts to go which would take us 12 hours. We ought to have been off an hour earlier and we could go no farther than Brisach, for there was no place at which to sleep between that and Strasbourg. We might have thanked her for her information had it come in time for us to profit by it but 12 hours for nine posts, we could not believe it. We had 15 francs for our lodging, the usual sum in these Country Inns, and drove away in as thick a fog as I have ever seen. We watched hour after hour in hopes that it would clear up but in vain. The Rhine, which we had travelled that road to see was utterly invisible and we know scarce anything of the Country thro’ which we travelled. Neuf Brisach seems a strongly fortified place which I suppose has been knocked to pieces in some of the wars, for the streets are all new looking, moderately wide built regularly and at right angles. Tho’ we were only passing thro’, it was necessary to have our passport presented to the Maire the Commandant, and the Prefect of Police, which the Man at the gate undertook to do for us, and bring it to the Post House while we were changing horses. He was very expeditious and we got off soon with the advice of our Postmaster to stop nowhere if we meant to get into Strasbourg that night but he said we had time if we did not linger.
The afternoon clearing up gave us a few fine sunset glimpses of the mountains of the Black Forest and the Vosges but we could not see Strasbourg Cathedral till we were very near it. Our stock of wine being out we tried at one of the last stages to replenish it, but could neither get understood for sometime, nor procure any when we were. The country was flat but often woody and I have no doubt with its fine backgrounds would have been pleasing in finer weather.
It was just half past 6 as we approached Strasbourg <we were doubtful of our fate > but our postillion cracked his whip and the man in the gate waited, and took charge of our passport to run the same gauntlet as at Brisach. He brought us a card which stated that it was necessary to reclaim it at the Prefecture with 24 hours after our arrival, and if our stay in Strasbourg was likely to exceed a week we must take it from thence to the Mayoralty to be properly registered. Heavy penalties were threatened in case of neglect or disobedience. We could not help being amused at the strictness of these orders, but we established ourselves at the Maison Rouge and soon sunk into forgetfulness of the whole.
Saturday – Octr. 24 –
We went with a stupid commissionaire, first to the Hotel de ville, a fine building, and got our passport, tho’ the Clerk was almost too busy talking to his comrade about the Play, to attend to what he called “ce bêtise de passeport”. We then went to deliver our letter of credit on Made. Franks and Co.. and our private letter of introduction to her son in law M. Renouard. <He was out of town, but> we found her sitting in the Bureau, and apparently managing a number of Clerks and all the business of the Counting House without any difficulty, and with as much activity as if she had been some 20 years younger. The day was bright; and she almost drove us away that we might mount the Spire of the Cathedral directly, lest it should change, in the mean time she promised to think of what might be worth our attention in Strasbourg. We had looked at the outside of the Cathedral en passant, and we now heroically refrained from going into it, and went straight up the tower. Our previous glance had confirmed the idea given by the prints of the bad effect which those twisted corkscrew pillars have at the angles of the towers, and papa had often condemned them as not being pure gothic. After, however, pursuing <for> some time a spacious and light staircase we found ourselves winding up one of these corkscrews so open and slender that we could hardly see what supported us, and might easily have fallen thro’. This however was only the lower part. We afterwards came to the ample terrace which connects the unfinished tower with that which has the spire. A man and his family had very good apartments here, and a little garden, but I should say of them as I said of Gilbert of Notre Dame that the birds of the air must be their principal visitants. Round both the towers is a walk with stone seats and tables in the corners, on one of which the Princess of Wales had eaten when she ascended. We were shewn her name and that of the Duke of Wellington written on a sort of Album as we were told by their own hands, for it is the fashion for everyone to write that mounts. We heard afterwards that the people of Strasbourg often make a Summer evening party to the top and sit here to enjoy the air and the prospect. If the space of the terrace surprized us, still more did the size of the tower. We walked under it <into a spacious saloon> and looked up a great height to the groined ceiling and lightly finished buttresses which rose above us. Another saloon contained a large and beautifully finished clock – and we were surprized to find the corkscrews as we had called them distinct triangular buildings places at 4 sides of an octagonal tower, each containing a staircase, and one of them a double one which two persons may mount at once and converse all the way without ever seeing each other. These corkscrews are beautifully designed and elegantly worked, but the Architect had certainly been deceived by their appearance on paper, for their effect from below is bad, and but very few comparatively can ascend to admire them here. Round these towers and into the saloons before mentioned are so many passages as to make almost a labyrinth of this height. We did not mount the spire as papa thought of ascending again, but the weather never allowed it.
We had nearly the same view that we had had at Basle and on the road tho’ somewhat more extended. The Vosges too, tho’ still misty, opened more upon us, but the Mountains of the Black Forest seemed nearly the same, a convincing proof of their size. We were vexed to see the Rhine at 2 leagues distance from us, and no longer the clear rapid stream he is at Basle, but shallow and wasting himself among many a pebbly isle.
We now went into the cathedral. The side aisles are like the central ones of most Cathedrals, and the Centre is wider, longer and lofty than any I remember. But the whole is dark. Much of its gloom is due to the rich stained windows which are some of the finest I have seen, but it is augmented by some vile tapestry which is hung all up the middle aisle, and which I wonder that any taste should consider an ornament. The two transepts – and the Chapels of the Saviour and St. Lawrence, which almost form a part of them are very different from the rest of the Church, being lighter and more ornamented. The number of devotees who were kneeling at these altars, and the votive pictures and offerings hung around them proved that Superstition has not yet loosened her hold in Strasbourg. In each of the transepts is one single round pillar. On the North side it is left plain, but on the South, part of 4 colonnets [colonnettes these days!] have been added with two ranges of figures. It has a very singular effect. The antient choir believed to have been built by Charlemagne, is still in existence, and does not harmonize ill with the Church – for it is of the same proportions – being sustained by very tall round pillars like those before spoken of, with plain but not inelegant capitals. The windows are of course narrow – and this part on the outside is very singular. Its two doorways having almost an Egyptian character. There is something of a crypt but only a small part was open and it did not seem very interesting. We made many attempts at sketching in the Church but with little success as we could not see our lines on the paper.
The outside with all its size is not on the whole so fine as others tho’ parts are very elegant. The whole of the tower has less effect than it ought to have – and both sides of the nave are [fenced?] as it were by a row of shops built between the buttresses, but so well adapted to the style of the Cathedral that they scarcely seem an incumbrance tho’ one thinks they must hide something more precious.
From the Cathedral we went to the Church of St.. Thomas, the most fashionable of the Protestant Churches of Strasbourg. The two religions are nearly balanced – there are six Protestant Churches, one Reformed and 5 Catholic, besides the Cathedral. The Cathedral was formerly Protestant. It is said that the Catholic Religion is now gaining ground in the town – while Alsace was an independent principality, it chose its governors indifferently from the Catholics or Protestants, but now that it is incorporated with France, the Officers are sent from Paris, & settling with their wives and children in the town, of course increase [sic] the number of Catholics <and make their religion fashionable>.
The Church of St Thomas is lofty and simple but very elegant. Its pillars are without capitals and the side aisles of the same height as the nave. The tomb of the Marechal de Saxe who is buried here is one of the Lions of the place, and was executed by Pigal a Parisian Sculptor. It is a most impudent monument France in despair extends her hands to repulse the griesly [sic] form of death while the Marechal descends undaunted towards the tomb. The foreign ensigns are trampled underfoot. The Austrian Eagle and English Leopard, are laid on their backs, and the Lion of Holland, tho’ repulsed seems the only one in condition to resist. By way of compensation however, the Animals are the best executed of the whole design.
There are a few old tombs in the Church, evidently not in their natural place, but curious to any who could make out their history. One I was told was of a Knight of [space left blank] and another I was assured was a bishop, because the concierge chose to take his [?] for a mantle his casque for a mitre and his battle axe for a crozier – no one who at all knew the forms of these things could be deceived.
Made. Franks called on us in the Evening to say that her son <in law> was returned, and would be at home till half past 10 <the next day> or would call on us after that time. She sate about half an hour and was very pleasant.
Sunday Octr. 25 –
Another anniversary of our good King’s ascension, and still are things the same! We called on M. Renouard who understands English tho’ he do not speak it and who proved intelligent and very civil. He engaged us to dine with him and Mrs Franks next day at 4. His wife was in the country. We went from them to a Protestant Church close by, the only one where the service is in french and as this was instituted to accommodate the inhabitants of the Dutchy of Montbellard [on a Google search, it should be Montbéliard?] on its connexion to France, and they are principally servants, it was neither very splendid, nor very well attended – but we were determined to go to a place where we could understand and join in in the worship – and tho’ our preacher was not very good, having as Papa said, one eye to Heaven and one to his book – we did not repent of having gone. We went afterwards to the Cathedral, and rambled about a little, but the day was damp, foggy and cold. Mr.. Renouard called on us in the afternoon and made an appointment to conduct us next day to M. Villot the architect of the Cathedral [?] the Town to see the New Theatre which he was building.
[added on the left page]
After Church, our Landlord asked us into a front room to see the troops parading in the Grand Place below. It was a fine sight and rendered amusing by a large flock of pigeons which were feeding there on (as I supposed) the scraps left by the market people. They were continually flying over and about the troops regardless of the noise of the drums, and were so tame that I frequently thought the companies would have marched over them.
Monday – Octr 26th
Fog. Fog. We went to the Cathedral where we were to have been met by M. Renouard, but the darkness obscured either us or him, and we waited in vain. I went home and found he had been 2ce, as well as a young Architect recommended thro’ Mrs Franks by M. Wenger Entrepreneur of the Theatre to make some drawings for Papa. After staying at the Cathedral near an hour beyond the time, we went to Mrs Franks who said that M. Renouard had been to seek us. I could never quite understand the matter nor whether he really went to the Cathedral or not, but she, a true woman of business, settled it by sending someone with us to the Theatre. M. Villot proved a pleasantly intelligent man – and his Theatre a large and handsome stone building, seemingly well designed and well executed, with a handsome Ionic portico, though I could not judge very well of it in its present unfinish’d state. Mr Villot was evidently proud of his work and took us afterwards to his office in the Hotel de Ville. He turned us at first into a sort of Museum there, which contained a very few good pictures, probably copies, and casts of some of the statues in the Louvre. It did not detain us many minutes, and we went up to Villot’s office, where several Clerks were at work, and which was the only one I saw on the Continent which gave me the Opinion of an Architect of any business. A great number of papers were scattered about anothers lettered in parcels – “Hospices civiles” [large blank] Militaires & &. He shewed us first all the Plans of the Theatre, and then what we had come to see; viz, one of the original working drawings of the Cathedral, from which it is built. Many of these still exist and are most beautifully and correctly drawn on vellum pasted on Cloth. They are of course considered a great curiosity and M. Villot was causing tracings to be made from them, that in future repairs it might not be necessary as now to trust the originals to the Entrpreneur. This one was a complete outline of the centre Arch of the great front from top to bottom, with the figures all drawn in and some of them coloured. It was 16 feet long, and is followed exactly in the Restorations now making of the parts destroyed at the Revolution, and especially the Sculpture. M. Villot had made tracings of several others, but could not find them at the moment. He afterwards shewed us a plan taken from his surveys of the town and its environs. It seemed to be very accurate, and I fancy will be engraved hereafter.
It was now time to prepare for Madame Franks. We found a large party assembled – Barons, ribbands of different colours – and to Papa’s delight 2 Professors who spoke a little English. Mr Arnold was a very intelligent man and well acquainted with English Literature. He was Professor of Law. M. Schweighaeusur (as Sancho would say) of the unpronounceable name was Professor of Greek Philosophy and delighted Papa by speaking to him about the Veils, which was shewn to him by Professor Pictet of Geneva, with whom they drank <tea> the day after we met him at Mr. Eynard’s. Mr. Pictet knew nothing of Greek, so asked Mr. Schweighaeusur about my names which he had been pleased to approve. I was however better pleased with Mr. Arnold, whom I sate next. He had more vivacity and spirit – seemed to know most of our best Authors, gave a very fair judgement on Lord Byron admired the rapid simplicity of Scott, and nearly repeated the Bard, which he declared to be not only the finest thing he had met with in the English language, but the finest of all modern poetry. I can say but little for his pronunciation, but his enthusiasm redeemed it, & his feeling was correct. He was delighted when I indicated to him the Descent of Odin, the Fatal Sisters, the Progress of Poesy, and Mason’s
“Oppression dies, the Tyrant falls.”
He seemed to enter into the 2 or 3 first stanzas which I repeated. He meant to read Scott’s novels tho’ he doubted his ability to understand him fully especially as the war had cut off English Literature so long that our Modern writers were almost unknown. He had never heard of Southey, but I recommended him to read Roderic &tc. Of Shakespeare’s plays he preferred Macbeth as the noblest work, tho’ in a style foreign from their taste.
[left-hand page – unsure where she means it to go]
What a picture said he, is in the single line
He vound it vid toilsome marsh his long arraye
He said the Germans had some noble Authors and that Schiller approached the nearest to Shakespeare, and that their literature was making rapid advances. France also had many lively elegant writers, but the English with Milton at their head, came down in a Phalanx to crush all the Literati of modern Europe. He did not much like Pope, and thought him cold.
He regretted that we had not come to Strasbourg in a season when we might have visited the mountains of the Vosges. On the top of almost every mountain were magnificent ruins, some roman, others of feudal times, and he had spent much of his time in collecting the legends belonging to them and versifying them. He expected that they would be ready for publication in the Spring and wished I had had understood German that he might have read some of them to me now. I should much have liked a peep at them.
From the dinner table we retired again (altogether as usual) to the Salon, which was hung with yellow satin damask, and had a bed of the same in one corner – a bed as Made.. Ruinart’s Mother observed, no one ever lies on. Here we took Coffee, & for the first time I was obliged to take it without milk, for hitherto it had always been brought in, out of compliment to the English taster. The Chassecafé most recommended was some of the celebrated Noyeau de Phalsbourg (which we were advised not to forget in passing thro’) but some of the gentlemen preferred the Eau de Vie de Dantzig.
My conversation, both at dinner and after was chiefly with the two Professors or M. Renouard from whom I learned much about the future arrangement of our journey and found that it would be necessary to get to Phalsbourg in good time as the frontier regulations were in force there and the gates were closed as strictly as Strasbourg, but it was the last of the triple lines, and when we had passed it, we should be free from their confinement. But I occasionally heard snatches of other conversation, and especially about the departure of the allied forces. The concentration of the Austrians upon the [Haguenau??] had been stated, in its effects to be nearly equal to a second invasion. The Duke of Wellington had written in a handsome manner to resign his command, but the remissness of the Austrian government had been such that several days elapsed between the receipt of this letter and the arrival of fresh orders, so that the troops being as were without any commander, had amused themselves a little at the expense of the inhabitants. An Austrian dignitary had however arrived this morning bearing ribbands for the Maire & Commandant of Strasboug and two other ribbands whose destination had was not yet known. He had also brought a few other presents and honours to different official persons in Strasbourg, which were said to have given universal Satisfaction. The Austrians were expected to leave Haguanau the very day we reckoned on arriving there (Wednesday). All this was communicated as official information, not yet to be spoken of, and indeed it did not get int the “Journal” till three or four days after.
About 7 the party began to break up and we took leave, but not so ended our Evening. Messrs Arnold and Schweighaeuzur took leave also, and we soon found that it was wished that we should adjourn to finish the Evening at the house of the latter. We were nothing loth, and were led to the Place St. Thomas, where we found Made.. Schweighaeuzur (a pleasant, lively, sensible woman) surrounded by her Mother, and sister in law and three or four other ladies. Tea was immediately brought in, and the news of our arrival, I suppose, diffused, for in about a quarter of an hour dropped in as by accident – M. Schweighaeuzur Senior Professor of Greek – who had been in England 20 years before, and who with his son and daughter in Law, & another gentleman who appeared a few minutes after, had formed the quartette for the Swiss tour, and been at M. Pictet’s the Evening my work was discussed. A botanical Professor was also there who had known Sir James Smith, and seemed delighted to get to any one who could speak of him.
We past a pleasant lively Evening & did not think of departure till near eleven. When I was putting on my things, Made. Schweighaeuzur began admiring my old green pelisse, which led to many questions about dress, and she seemed much surprized at the account I gave her of what she called the magnificence of English habits. I had been always surprized too, to find that in France, the reported ruler of dress, so little was really necessary. In Paris, the morning costume has a gaiety which walkers do not usually assume in London tho’ they may at Brighton or other watering places, but still it is only a morning costume, and for the dress of the gentry of London in a small Evening party, or even at home, one must go to the Court, or the Bal paré. In the country towns there is still less of it, & in Switzerland, less again. Made.. Schweighaeuzur evidently thought herself quite enough dressed for a soirée in her present plain high gown of blue & white striped cambric muslin – in the morning she wore a black silk apron with it.
Tuesday – Octr.. 27 – 1818
<Fog. Fog.> We were first engaged in setting to work our young Architect, who after all as I expected finished by doing nothing, and charging high for it. He then took us to see M. Spindler, who under Villot is Architect to the Cathedral. His office was in one of the <Gothic> shops I have noticed and he had one clerk of work, but neither the gentlemanly manners nor business of Villot. He shewed another of the original drawings which Villot had let him have out as a guide in his restorations – it comprehended the whole of the tower and the spire and was as beautiful in its execution as the first. Spindler afterwards took us into another of these shops where we were much pleased with some small sacred groupes that had been modelled for the restoration by [left blank deliberately] and [left blank deliberately] but [left blank deliberately] was lately dead. One of them had even much of the style and feeling of Flaxman’s groupes. But Papa admired them so much that I know he has fully described them.
We had now an appointment with Mr.. Schweighaeuzur who took us to the Library. It now occupied the Choir of the antient Church of the Dominicans, and though not very large seemed tolerably well kept. On a chair was a small collection of shabby looking volumes about 20 perhaps which Mr.. Dibdin had set aside, and offered 2500 franks for them on the part of Lord Spencer. His letter seemed to have given much amusement. By a mistake in his French he had said that Lord Spencer would have them, and the Professors were somewhat indignant at his dictatorial tone, till M. Schweighaeuzur explained that Lord Spencer wished to have them. Their answer was however that they were not Marchands de Livres, & I believe added that his very desire to become possessed of those books was an additional proof that they should not do their duty in parting with them. There were also two glass cases containing many curious antiquities which had been dug up in the Vosges, and in the neighbourhood. Some pretty bronzes and little figures, many [laerzmariae??], and some vessels of pretty clear glass, of an elegant shape. But perhaps the most curious of all were some of the moulds in which the Romans had baked their pottery. In two of these which were perfect modern vessels had been made and with some success; but the materials were coarse and the moulds not of fine workmanship. The embossed parts were figures of men and animals, and foliage but I believe I have described them all much better in my letters than I remember to do now. For let me record that I am writing these few last pages in Febry 1819 – this volume of my journal having been mislaid or rather mispacked 2ce, <on our journey>, when nearly finished, and at last detained two months in a box of books at the Custom House, so that my 4th volume was completed before I could get again at this. I am sorry for the part at which the accident occurred as I consider our visit to Strasbourg as among the most interesting of our journey and was vexed for two or three nights after its first loss to be sitting in less profitable employ, while what I wished to record was fading from my memory – and there were particulars which would have been highly interesting to Mr.. Flaxman.
In the Library was a collection of all the prints of the Cathedral that had ever been known to have been engraved. Many more than are now to be procured or heard of – and papa obtained permission to copy any of them at a house where M. Schweighaeuzur left it for him, but between bad eyes and want of time I believe it was of little use to him.
I afterwards sate an hour with Made. Schweighaeuzur while Papa was in the Church of St.. Thomas. She gave me a history of their whole tour, and they seemed to have accomplished a great deal in the time. She shewed me also some scraps of most of her dresses, and I was astonished at the price she had paid there for goods of little value here. She shewed me one of her husband’s shirts. She had bought the cambric muslin cheap, that is for not much more than twice its price, because she had bought it on the other side of the Rhine, and had it made up there. The French duties on our cotton goods are exorbitant. Muslins frills are the fashion at Strasbourg, instead of Camrbic, and as they are beautifully plaited they look very well. I am inclined to make Papa try them.
Wednesday – Octr 28 –
Fog. Fog. Papa had an appointment with M. Evgelheart [shd this be Engelheart?] to see the whole of the drawings of the Cathedral, and very much gratified he was with them. M. [left blank] a friend of Mr.. Engelheart who is publishing outlines of the principal Churches of Germany in a very good style, had had three of the principal of these traced off for his work and they were expected to appear in the Spring. We understood that the working drawings of the Cathedral at Cologne also exist, and that M. [left blank] has procured copies of some of them also.
In the meantime I was in charge of Made. Schweighaeuzur who took me first to the école de Medicine – where there was nothing to be seen but skeletons, one of them with the most horrid grin I ever saw, Monsters, and anatomical preparations. Made. said she had been used to them all her life and was not incommoded by them, but how she could take me to them as either amusing or interesting I know not. There were two or three electrical Machines which neither she nor a Professor who accompanied us seemed to know much about, and two large bungling tin Kaleidoscopes. It was some favour to get in here, and a greater to see the Museum of Natural History, which but for 3 objects, was as little worth the trouble. Birds and beasts were alike without cases, and piled on shelves without much arrangement, dirty, dusty, & decaying. But among these was a specimen of the polar bear evidently recently placed there. That in Bullocks Museum has been reckoned a fine one, but I think this animal would have weighed three times as much. It exceeded all I could conceive of the largest of the species, and its hair, which was long and thick, shone like silver. In short it deserved to be placed by my friend Bruin at Berne.
The next specimen was a Peacock – with its tail spread. I never saw one so large.
The 3d <was or> were 2 Flamingoes belonging to the flock I have before mentioned. Made S. pointed them particularly out to me told me the story of their visit to that part of the world, and bade me notice how much larger they were, and of how much brighter plumage than one which had been imported from India. She said that Switzerland, (and Alsace from its vicinity) was often visited by foreign birds, which it was supposed followed the ships into the Mediterranean. She spoke to our Conductor with raptures of the Museum at Berne, and in particular dwelt on the circumstance of the animals being all in glazed cases, as something extraordinary. When we got among the minerals and shells Made.. was very anxious to shew off her acquaintance with them, and really appeared better informed than I could have expected, but she mistook the Venus’s Ear for the Pearl Oyster, & I could not get her set right tho’ I shewed her the true shell. She fancied the little holes in the former were the places the pearls came out of.
The mineralogy was more copious than at Berne but I should think neither very valuable nor well arranged.
We next went to Mr.. Ohnmart’s – of whom Made.. Franks had often spoken as the first, the only sculptor in Strasbourg. He may be the only worker in marble, but his sculpture was not worth looking at, and neither for feeling nor grouping (groupes indeed there were none) deserved to be compared with the clay models of of the two nameless artists of the Cathedral. Ohnmart was making a bust or statue <or medallion> of a niece of Made.. Franks, for her monument, and as Made.. Franks is a great personage in Strasbourg, Ohnmart had all the reflexion of her lustre.
There was nothing in what I saw this day worth braving the weather for, had I minded weather. My amusement was principally in finding how little Strasbourg had to shew, and my thanks to Made.. Schweighaeuzur were rather for her company and conversation, and her wish to gratify me, than for any gratification I received. I took leave of her with regret. We called afterwards but I saw her no more. Her mother was moving and she was assisting her.
M. Villot drank tea with us. He brought with him all the tracings which he had made from the drawings of the Cathedral. They had comprehended some of the principal but not what I had before seen. Also the [crossed out? Recu/receipt?] bill or rather agreement signed by M. Engelheart’s friend for the 3 which he had traced for him and which Papa had agreed to have also – at the same terms. But we noticed that he had altered the figures on the paper, neatly, so as to make the amount 70 franks instead of 60. A mean trick. He had better have said he could not afford them again at the same price.
I have said nothing about our inn but that it was situated in the Grande Place – we however had only back rooms looking into the Court, and were still obliged to put up with a German stove. We always dined in the salle, where the master, who was something of a humourist and always wore a jacket came in to talk to us, and consult us as to what we would like to eat next day. He gave us today, at our request, some Chevreuil – a dainty highly esteemed here. I liked it very much but Papa wanted Currant jelly to it. The Chevreuil I understand abounds much in the Black forest, but this had come from the forest of Strasbourg on the french side of the Rhine.
The Salle was also a sort of Coffee room – a table d’hôte dinner at 1 – a supper at nine. Card tables in the Evening, and while we were at dinner i.e. from 4 to 6 – as it happened, gentlemen were dropping in, to take their afternooning, or chopin of vin de pays and look at the Journal. But we got less intercourse with them than elsewhere. And the waiters and servants were more like those in England – they had too much to do to be amusing. The seeing the Master had also an English air – tho’ we had had that at Berne.
The streets of Strasbourg are much like those of other french towns – but there are some places with arcades nearly as at Geneva. The quantities of shoes every where exposed for sale marked we were again in France. I had tried at Lausanne and had been thro’ the whole town of Berne without being able to find a pair of <ready made> shoes to fit – or seeing, as I believe 50 finished pair. Here one could not go along one street without seeing hundreds, as at Paris. The french are certainly a walking nation.
Thursday – Octr.. 29 –
We took leave of Made.. Franks – who as usual was in her Bureau but adjourned with us to a salle, and almost made me sick by spitting behind her chair the whole time. And next of M. Schweighaeuzur who not to lose sight of us till the last, called on us again at our Inn, and gave me as I had requested a copy of a translation which he had made of my lines written on the Promenade at Berne.
We paid our bill, which was made en masse, that is without any articles charged, but which proved to be less than we had calculated from a knowledge of what we had had, and what we had agreed to pay. A whole Chapzigar Cheeze for Mama – weighing I suppose about three pounds, was included.
We left Strasburgh [sic] about one oclock having been there nearly six days on one only of which could we see distinctly the spire of the Cathedral. Indeed we might frequently have denied its existence and not having noticed our position on the Saturday I had no idea on the Sunday that the Cathedral itself was in sight from our inn.
We left Strasburgh in fog and in fog we proceeded thro’ Brumpt towards Haguenau.
The rest of the diary are pages of drawings.
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