Thomas Frognall Dibdin - A Bibliographical, Antiquarian and Picturesque Tour in France and Germany, Volume Three

T >> Thomas Frognall Dibdin >> A Bibliographical, Antiquarian and Picturesque Tour in France and Germany, Volume Three

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The day continued to become more and more brilliant, and the scenery to
keep pace with the weather. It was evident that we were nearing the
monastery very rapidly. On catching the first distinct view of it, my
companion could not restrain his admiration. At this moment, from the
steepness of the ascent, I thought it prudent to descend, and to walk to
the monastery. The view from thence was at once commanding and enchanting.
The Danube was the grand feature in the landscape; while, near its very
borders, at the distance perhaps of three English miles, stood the post
town of _Chrems_. The opposite heights of the Danube were well covered with
wood. The sun now shone in his meridian splendour, and every feature of the
country seemed to be in a glow with his beams. I next turned my thoughts to
gain entrance within the monastery, and by the aid of my valet it was not
long before that wished for object was accomplished. The interior is large
and handsome, but of less architectural splendor than Moelk or even St.
Florian. The librarian, Odilo Klama, was from home. Not a creature was to
be found; and I was pacing the cloisters with a dejected air, when my
servant announced to me that the Vice Principal would receive me, and
conduct me to the Head or President.

This was comforting intelligence. I revived in an instant; and following,
along one corridor, and up divers stair-cases, I seemed to be gaining the
summit of the building, when a yet more spacious corridor brought me to the
door of the President's apartments: catching views, on my way thither, of
increasing extent and magnificence. But all consideration of exterior
objects was quickly lost on my reception at head quarters. The Principal,
whose name is ALTMANN, was attired in a sort of half-dignity dress; a gold
chain and cross hung upon his breast, and a black silk cap covered his
head. A gown, and what seemed to be a cassock, covered his body. He had the
complete air of a gentleman, and might have turned his fiftieth year. His
countenance bespoke equal intelligence and benevolence:--but alas! not a
word of French could he speak--and Latin was therefore necessarily resorted
to by both parties. I entreated him to forgive all defects of composition
and of pronunciation; at which he smiled graciously. The Vice Principal
then bowed to the Abbot and retreated; but not before I had observed them
to whisper apart--and to make gesticulations which I augured to portend
something in the shape of providing refreshment, if not dinner. My
suspicion was quickly confirmed; for, on the Vice Principal quitting the
apartment, the Abbot observed to me--"you will necessarily partake of our
dinner--which is usually at _one_ o'clock; but which I have postponed till
_three_, in order that I may conduct you over the monastery, and shew you
what is worthy of observation. You have made a long journey hither, and
must not be disappointed."

The manner in which this was spoken was as courteous as the purport of the
speech was hospitable. "Be pleased to be covered (continued the Abbot) and
I will conduct you forthwith to the Library: although I regret to add that
our Librarian Odilo is just now from home--having gone, for the day, upon a
botanical excursion towards Chrems--as it is now holiday time." In our way
to the library, I asked the Principal respecting the revenues of the
establishment and its present condition--whether it were flourishing or
otherwise--adding, that Chremsminster appeared to me to be in a very
flourishing state." "They are much wealthier (observed the Principal) at
Chremsminster than we are here. Establishments like this, situated near a
metropolis, are generally more _severely_ visited than are those in a
retired and remote part of the kingdom. Our very situation is inviting to a
foe, from its commanding the adjacent country. Look at the prospect around
you. It is unbounded. On yon opposite wooded heights, (on the other side of
the Danube) we all saw, from these very windows, the fire and smoke of the
advanced guard of the French army, in contest with the Austrians, upon
Bonaparte's first advance towards Vienna. The French Emperor himself took
possession of this monastery. He slept here, and we entertained him the
next day with the best _dejeune a la fourchette_ which we could afford. He
seemed well satisfied with his reception; but I own that I was glad when he
left us. Strangers to arms in this tranquil retreat, and visited only, as
you may now visit us, for the purpose of peaceful hospitality, it agitated
us extremely to come in contact with warriors and chieftains.

The preceding was not delivered in one uninterrupted flow of language; but
I only string it together as answers to various questions put by myself.
"Observe yonder"--continued the Abbot--"do you notice an old castle in the
distance, to the left, situated almost upon the very banks of the Danube?"
"I observe it well," replied I. "That castle, (answered he) so tradition
reports, once held your Richard the First, when he was detained a prisoner
by Leopold Marquis of Austria, on his return from the Holy-Land." The more
the Abbot spoke, and the more I continued to gaze around, the more I
fancied myself treading upon faery ground, and that the scene in which I
was engaged partook of the illusion of romance. "Our funds (continued my
intelligent guide, as he placed his hand upon my arm, and arrested our
progress towards the library) need be much more abundant than they really
are. We have great burdens to discharge. All our food is brought from a
considerable distance, and we are absolutely dependant upon our neighbours
for water, as there are neither wells nor springs in the soil." "I wonder
(replied I) why such a spot was chosen--except for its insulated and
commanding situation--as water is the first requisite in every monastic
establishment?" "Do you then overlook the _Danube_?"--resumed he--"We get
our fish from thence; and, upon the whole, feel our wants less than it
might be supposed."

In our way to the Library, I observed a series of oil paintings along the
corridor--which represented the history of the founder, and of the
foundation, of the monastery.[107] The artist's name was, if I remember
rightly, Helgendoeffer--or something like it. Many of the subjects were
curious, and none of them absolutely ill executed. I observed the devil, or
some imp, introduced in more than one picture; and remarked upon it to my
guide. He said--"where will you find truth unmixed with fiction?" My
observation was adroitly parried; and we now found ourselves close to the
library door; where three or four Benedictins, (for I should have told you
that this famous monastery is of the order of _St. Benedict_) professors on
the establishment, were apparently waiting to receive us. They first
saluted the Abbot very respectfully, and then myself--with a degree of
cheerfulness amounting almost to familiarity. In a remote and strange
place, of such a character, nothing is more encouraging than such a
reception. Two of our newly joined associates could luckily speak the
French language, which rendered my intercourse with the Principal yet more
pleasing and satisfactory to myself. The library door was now opened, and I
found myself within a long and spacious room--of which the book-shelves
were composed of walnut tree--but of which the architectural ornaments were
scarcely to be endured, after having so recently seen those in the library
of Moelk. However, it may be fairly said that the Library was worthy of the
Monastery: well stored with books and MSS., and probably the richest in
bibliographical lore in Austria, after that at Vienna.

We now entered the saloon, for dinner. It was a larger light, and lofty
room. The ceiling was covered with paintings of allegorical subjects, in
fresco, descriptive of the advantages of piety and learning. Among the
various groups, I thought I could discern--as I could only take a hasty
survey during my meal--the apotheosis of the founder of the monastery.
Perhaps I rather wished to see it there, than that it was absolutely
depicted. However, we sat down, at the high table--precisely as you may
remember it in the halls at Oxford--to a plentiful and elegant repast. The
Principal did me the honour of placing me at his right hand. Grace was no
sooner said, than Mr. Lewis made his appearance, and seemed to view the
scene before him with mingled delight and astonishment. He had, in fact,
just completed his sketch of the monastery, and was well satisfied at
seeing me in such quarters, and so occupied. The brethren were also well
pleased to receive him, but first begged to have a glance at the
drawing--with which they were highly gratified.

My companion having joined the festive board, the conversation, and the
cups of Rhenish wine, seemed equally to circulate without restraint. We
were cheerful, even to loud mirth; and the smallness of the party, compared
with the size of the hall, caused the sounds of our voices to be
reverberated from every quarter. Meantime, the sun threw his radiant beams
through a window of noble dimensions, quite across the saloon--so as to
keep us in shadow, and illuminate the other parts of the room. Thus we were
cool, but the day without had begun to be sultry. Behind me, or rather
between the Abbot and myself, stood a grave, sedate, and inflexible-looking
attendant--of large, square dimensions--habited in a black gown, which
scarcely reached the skirts of his coat. He spake not; he moved not; save
when he saw my glass emptied, which without any previous notice or
permission, he made a scrupulous point of filling ... even to the very
brim!... with the most highly flavoured Rhenish wine which I had yet tasted
in Germany. Our glasses being of the most capacious dimensions, it behoved
me to cast an attentive eye upon this replenishing process; and I told the
worthy master of the table that we should be quickly revelling in our cups.
He assured me that the wine, although good, was weak; but begged that I
would consider myself at liberty to act as I pleased.

In due time, the cloth was cleared; and a dessert, consisting chiefly of
delicious peaches, succeeded. A new order of bottles was introduced; tall,
square, and capacious; which were said to contain wine of the same quality,
but of a more delicate flavour. It proved indeed to be most exquisite. The
past labours of the day, together with the growing heat, had given a relish
to every thing which I tasted; and, in the full flow of my spirits, I
proposed--a sentiment, which I trusted would be considered as perfectly
orthodox--"Long life, and happy times to the present members, and
increasing prosperity to, the monastery of Goettwic." It was received and
drank with enthusiasm. The Abbot then proceeded to give me an account of a
visit paid him by Lord Minto, some years ago, when the latter was
ambassador at Vienna; and he spoke of that nobleman's intelligent
conversation, and amiable manners, in a way which did him great credit.
"Come, Sir;" said he: "you shall not find me ungrateful. I propose drinking
prosperity and long life to every representative of the British nation who
is resident at Vienna. May the union between your country and ours become
indissoluble." I then requested that we might withdraw; as the hours were
flying away, and as we purposed sleeping within one stage of Vienna on that
same evening.

"Your wishes shall be mine," answered the Abbot. Whereupon he rose--with
all the company--and stepping some few paces backwards, placed his hands
across his breast upon the gold cross; half closed his eyes; and said
grace--briefly and softly; in a manner the most impressive which I had ever
witnessed. We then quickly left the noble room in which we had been
banquetting, and prepared to visit the church and what might be called the
state apartments, which we had not before seen. After the rooms at St.
Florian, there was not much particularly to admire in those of Goettwic:
except that they appeared to be better lighted, and most of them commanded
truly enchanting views of the Danube and of the surrounding country. In one
room, of smaller dimensions, ornamented chiefly in white and gold (if I
remember rightly) a _Collection of Prints_ was kept; but those which I saw
were not very remarkable for their antiquity, or for their beauty of
subject or of impression. The sun was now getting low, and we had a stage
of at least fourteen miles to accomplish ere we could think of retiring to
rest.

"Show us now, worthy Sir, your crypt and church; and then, with pain be it
pronounced, we must bid you farewell. Within little more than two hours,
darkness will have covered the earth." Such was my remark to the Abbot; who
replied: "Say not so: we cannot part with you yet. At any rate you must not
go without a testimony of the respect we entertain for the object of your
visit. Those who love books, will not object to increase their own stock by
a copy of our CHRONICON GOTWICENSE--commenced by one of my learned
predecessors, but alas! never completed. Come with me to my room, before we
descend to the church, and receive the work in question." Upon which, the
amiable Head of the monastery set off, at rather a hurried pace, with
myself by the side of him, along several corridors--towards his own
apartment, to present me with this Chronicle. I received it with every
demonstration of respect--and entreated the Abbot to inscribe a "_dono
dedit_" in the fly leaf, which would render it yet more valuable in my
estimation.[108] He cheerfully complied with this request. The courtesy,
the frankness, the downright heartiness of feeling with which all this was
done--together with the value of the present--rendered it one of the most
delightful moments of my existence. I instinctively caught the Abbot's arm,
pressed his hand with a cordial warmth between both of mine--and pausing
one little moment, exclaimed "_Dies hic omnino commemoratione dignus!_"

A sort of sympathetic shouting succeeded; for, by this time, the whole of
our party had reached the Abbot's rooms. I now requested, to be immediately
taken to the church; and within five minutes we were in the crypt. It
scarcely merits one word of description on the score of antiquity; and may
be, at the farthest, somewhere about three centuries old. The church is
small and quite unpretending, as a piece of architecture. On quitting the
church, and passing through the last court, or smaller quadrangle, we came
to the outer walls: and leaving them, we discerned--below--the horses,
carriage, and valet ... waiting to receive us. Our amiable Host and his
Benedictin brethren determined to walk a little way down the hill, to see
us fairly seated and ready to start. I entreated and remonstrated that this
might not be; but in vain. On reaching the carriage, we all shook hands
very cordially together, but certainly I pressed those of the Abbot more
earnestly than the rest. We then saluted by uncovering; and, stepping into
the carriage, I held aloft the first volume of the GOeTTWIC
CHRONICLE--exclaiming ... "_Valete, Domini eruditissimi: dies hic
commemoratione dignus_:" to which the Abbot replied, with peculiarly
emphatic sonorousness of voice, "_Vale: Deus te, omnesque tibi charissimos,
conservet_." They then stopped for a moment ... as the horses began to be
put in motion ... and retracing their steps up the hill, towards the outer
gate of the monastery, disappeared. I thought--but it might not be so--that
I discerned the Abbot, at the distance of some two hundred yards, yet
lingering alone--with his right arm raised, and shaking it as the last and
most affectionate token of farewell.

The evening was serene and mild; and the road, although a cross way, was
perfectly sound--winding through a country of fertility and picturesque
beauty. We saw few vineyards: but those which met our eyes showed the grape
to be in its full purple tint, if not beginning to ripen. I had resolved
upon stopping to sleep at _Sirghartskirchen_ within two stages of
Vienna--thus avoiding the post town of _Perschling_, which is situated in
the direct road to Vienna from _St. Poelten_--which latter place, as you may
remember, we had left in the morning. Before the darker shades of evening
began to prevail, we turned round to catch a farewell glance of the
hospitable monastery which we had left behind--and were lucky in viewing
it, (scarcely less than seven or eight miles in our rear) just as the
outline of its pinnacles could be discerned against a clear, and yet almost
brilliant, sky.

It was quite dark, and nearer upon eleven than ten o'clock, when we entered
the insignificant post town of _Sirghartskirchen_--where we stretched our
limbs rather than reposed; and after a hasty, but not very ill provided
breakfast, the next morning, we pushed on for _Burkersdorf_, the last post
town on that side of Vienna. It may be about nine English miles from
Burkersdorf to the capital; of which the greater part is rather agreeable
than otherwise. It was here, as in approaching Strasbourg, that I turned my
eyes in all directions to catch an early glimpse of the tower of St.
Stephen's Cathedral, but in vain. At length, to the right, we saw the
magnificent chateau of _Schoenbrunn_.

The road now became flat and sandy, and the plains in the vicinity of the
capital destitute of trees. "Voila la Cathedrale!" shouted the valet. It
was to the left, or rather a little in front: of a tapering, spire-like
form: but, seeing only a small portion of it--the lower part being
concealed by the intervening rising ground--I could form no judgment of its
height. We now neared the suburbs, which are very extensive, and swarming
with population. I learnt that they entirely surrounded the capital, in an
equal state of populousness. The barriers were now approached: and all the
fears, which my accidental travelling acquaintance at Augsbourg had put
into my head, began to revive and to take possession of me. But what has an
honest man to fear? "Search closely (observed I to the principal examining
officer) for I suspect that there is something contraband at the bottom of
the trunk. Do you forbid the importation of an old Greek manual of
devotion?"--said I, as I saw him about to lay his hand upon the precious
Aldine volume, of which such frequent mention has been already made. The
officer did not vouchsafe even to open the leaves--treating it,
questionless, with a most sovereign contempt; but crying, "bah!--vous
pouvez bien passer," he replaced the things which he had very slightly
discomposed, and added that he wished all contraband articles to consist of
similar materials. We parted with mutual smiles; but I thought there
lingered something like a feeling of reproach, in the last quiver or turn
of his lip, at my not having slipt two or three florins into his
hand--which was broad and brawny enough to have grasped threescore or a
hundred. "I will remember you on my return,"--exclaimed I, as the carriage
drove off. He gave me a most sceptical shake of the head, as he retreated
into his little tenement, like a mastiff into his kennel.

The whole of VIENNA, as it now seemed--with its cathedral, churches,
palaces, and ramparts--was before us. As we approached the chief entrance,
or gateway, I recognised the _Imperial Library_; although it was only a
back view of it. In truth, it appeared to be just as I remembered it in the
vignette-frontispiece of Denis's folio catalogue of the Latin Theological
MSS. contained in the same library. My memory proved to be faithful; for we
were assured that the building in view _was_ the library in question. It
was our intention to take up our quarters at the principal inn, called the
_Empress of Austria_; and, with this view, we drove up to the door of that
hotel: but a tall, full-dressed man, with a broad sash across his body, and
a silver-tipped staff in his right hand, marched pompously up to the door
of the carriage, took off his hat, and informed us with great solemnity
that "the hotel was entirely filled, and that his master could not have the
honour of entertaining us." On receiving this intelligence, we were
comforted by the assurance, on the part of the post-boy and valet, that the
second hotel, called the _Crown of Hungary_,--and situated in the
_Himelfort Gasse_, or _Heaven-gate Street_--was in every respect as
desirable as that which we were compelled to quit. Accordingly we alighted
at the door of the _Hungarische Krone_--equally marvelling, all the way
thither, at the enormous size of the houses, and at the narrowness of the
streets.

But it is time to terminate this epistle. Yet I must not fail informing
you, that every thing strikes me as approximating very much to my own
native country. The countenances, the dresses, the manners of the
inhabitants, are very nearly English. My apartments are gay as well as
comfortable. A green-morocco sofa, beneath a large and curiously cut
looking-glass--with chairs having velvet seats, and wainscot and ceiling
very elegantly painted and papered--all remind me that I am in a
respectable hotel. A strange sight occupied my attention the very first
morning after my arrival. As the day broke fully into my room--it might be
between five and six o'clock--I heard a great buzzing of voices in the
street. I rose, and looking out of window, saw, from one end of the street
to the other, a countless multitude of women--sitting, in measured ranks,
with pots of cream and butter before them. It was in fact the chief market
day for fruit, cream, and butter; and the _Himelfort Gasse_ is the
principal mart for the sale of these articles. The weather has recently
become milder, and I feel therefore in better trim for the attack upon the
IMPERIAL LIBRARY, where I deliver my credentials, or introductory letters,
to-morrow. God bless you.

[97] St. FLORIAN was a soldier and sufferer in the time of the Emperors
Diocletian and Maximinian. He perished in the tenth and last
persecution of the Christian Church by the Romans. The judge, who
condemned him to death, was Aquilinus. After being importuned to
renounce the Christian religion, and to embrace the Pagan creed, as
the only condition of his being rescued from an immediate and cruel
death, St. Florian firmly resisted all entreaties; and shewed a
calmness, and even joyfulness of spirits, in proportion to the stripes
inflicted upon him previous to execution. He was condemned to be
thrown into the river, from a bridge, with a stone fastened round his
neck. The soldiers at first hesitated about carrying the judgment of
Aquilinus into execution. A pause of an hour ensued: which was
employed by St. Florian in prayer and ejaculation! A furious young man
then rushed forward, and precipitated the martyr into the river:
"Fluvius autem suscipiens martyrem Christi, expavit, et elevatis undis
suis, in quodam eminentiori loco in saxo corpus ejus deposuit. Tunc
annuente favore divino, adveniens aquila, expansis alis suis in modum
crucis, eum protegebat." _Acta Sanctorum; Mens. Maii_, vol. i. p. 463.
St. Florian is a popular saint both in Bavaria and Austria. He is
usually represented in armour, pouring water from a bucket to
extinguish a house, or a city, in flames, which is represented below.
Raderus, in his _Bavaria Sacra_, vol. i. p. 8, is very particular
about this monastery, and gives a list of the pictures above noticed,
on the authority of Sebastianus ab Adelzhausen, the head of the
monastery at that time; namely in 1615. He also adorns his pages with
a copper cut of the martyr about to be precipitated into the river,
from the bank--with his hands tied behind him, without any stone about
his neck. But the painting, as well as the text of the Acta Sanctorum,
describes the precipitation as from a bridge. The form of the
Invocation to the Saint is, "O MARTYR and SAINT, FLORIAN, keep us, we
beseech thee, by night and by day, from all harm by FIRE, or from
other casualties of this life."

[98] "Nostris vero temporibus Reverendissimi Praepositi studio augustum sanc
templum raro marmore affatim emicans, paucisque inuidens assurexit."
This is the language of the _Germania Austriaca, seu Topographia
Omnium Germaniae Provinciarum_, 1701, folio, p. 16: when speaking of
THE MONASTERY of ST. FLORIAN.

[99] See p. 78, ante.

[100] It may be only sufficient to carry it as far back as the twelfth
century. What precedes that period is, as usual, obscure and
unsatisfactory. The monastery was originally of the _Benedictin_
order; but it was changed to the _Augustine_ order by Engelbert.
After this latter, Altman reformed and put it upon a most respectable
footing--in 1080. He was, however, a severe disciplinarian. Perhaps
the crypt mentioned by M. Klein might be of the latter end of the
XIIth century; but no visible portion of the superincumbent building
can be older than the XVIth century.

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