Delphi Complete Works of Ann Radcliffe (Illustrated)

by Ann Radcliffe

  The first house in Rastadt is the palace of the Margrave of Baden Baden, brother of the Margrave of Baden Durlach, whose residence is at Carlsruhe, a small and heavy building, that fronts the avenue, and is surrounded with stone walls. The interior is said to be splendidly decorated, and a chamber is preserved in the state, in which Prince Eugene and Marshal Villars left it in 1714, after concluding the peace between the Emperor and Louis the Fourteenth. The Prince of Baden, being then a general in the service of the Emperor, had not been able to escape the vengeance of Louis, whose troops in 1688 first plundered, and then burnt, the palace and city, and in the war of the Succession they had a camp on the adjoining plain. The Prince is therefore supposed to have lent the palace, which he had rebuilt, with the more readiness, that the Marshal might see how perfectly he could overcome his loss. The plunder of the city in 1688 had continued for five days, and it is mentioned in its history that the French carried away fifteen waggon loads of wine of the vintage of 1572.

  Rastadt, like Carlsruhe, is built upon one plan, but is as inferior to it in beauty, as in size. The chief street is, however, uncommonly broad, so much so, that the upper end is used as a marketplace, and the statue of the founder, Prince Louis, in the centre, is seen with all the advantages of space and perspective. There is, notwithstanding, little appearance of traffic, and the inhabitants seemed to be much less numerous than the emigrant corps, which was then stationed there, the head quarters of the Prince of Condé being established in the city. We passed an hour at an inn, which was nearly filled by part of this corps, and were compelled to witness the distress and disappointment, excited by intelligence just then received of the state of affairs in the Low Countries.

  A small park of artillery was kept on the southern side of Rastadt, where there is a handsome stone bridge over the river Murg, that falls into the Rhine, at the distance of a league from the city. Soon after, the road passes by the groves of the Favorita, a summer palace built by a dowager Margravine. We now drew nearer to the mountains of the Bergstrasse, which had disappeared near Schwezingen, and had risen again partially through the morning mists, soon after our quitting Carlsruhe. They are here of more awful height, and abrupt steepness than in the neighbourhood of Manheim, and, on their pointed brows, are frequently the ruins of castles, placed sometimes where it seems as if no human foot could climb. The nearer we approached these mountains the more we had occasion to admire the various tints of their granites. Sometimes the precipices were of a faint pink, then of a deep red, a dull purple, or a blush approaching to lilac, and sometimes gleams of a pale yellow mingled with the low shrubs, that grew upon their sides. The day was cloudless and bright, and we were too near these heights to be deceived by the illusions of aerial colouring; the real hues of their features were as beautiful, as their magnitude was sublime. The plains, that extend along their feet to the Rhine, are richly cultivated with corn, and, beyond the river, others, which appear to be equally fruitful, spread towards the mountains of Alsace, a corresponding chain with the Bergstrasse, vast and now blue with distance.

  The manners of the people from Manheim downwards, are more civilized than in the upper parts of Germany; an improvement, which may with great probability be imputed to the superior fruitfulness of the country, that amends their condition, and with it the social qualities. The farms are more numerous, the labourers less dejected, and the women, who still work barefooted in the fields, have somewhat of a ruddy brown in their complexion, instead of the sallowness, that renders the ferocious, or sullen air of the others more striking. They are also better dressed; for, though they retain the slouched woollen hat, they have caps; and towards the borders of Switzerland their appearance becomes picturesque. Here they frequently wear a blue petticoat with a cherry-coloured boddice, full white sleeves fastened above the elbow, and a muslin handkerchief thrown gracefully round the neck in a sort of roll; the hair sometimes platted round the head, and held on the crown with a large bodkin. On holidays, the girls have often a flat straw hat, with bows of ribband hanging behind. Higher up, the women wear their long black hair platted, but falling in a queue down the back.

  The cottages are also somewhat better, and the sides entirely covered with vines, on which, in the beginning of July, were grapes bigger than capers, and in immense quantities. Sometimes Turkey corn is put to dry under the projections of the first floor, and the gardens are ornamented with a short alley of hops. Meat is however bad and scarce; the appearance so disgusting before it is dressed, that those, who can accommodate their palates to the cooking, must endeavour to forget what they have seen. Butter is still more scarce, and the little cheese that appears, is only a new white curd, made up in rolls, scarcely bigger than an egg. A sort of beer is here made for servants, the taste of which affords no symptom of either malt or hops; it is often nearly white, and appears to have been brewed but a few hours; what is somewhat browner is bottled, and sold at about three-pence a quart.

  Our road, this day, was feldom more than two leagues distant from the Rhine, and we expected to have heard the fire, which the Austrian and French posts, who have their batteries on the two banks of the river, frequently exchange with each other. The tranquillity was, however, as sound as in any other country, and nothing but the continuance of patroles and convoys reminded us of our nearness to the war. The peasants were as leisurely cutting their harvest, and all the other business of rural life was proceeding as uninterruptedly, as if there was no possibility of an attack. Yet we afterwards learned, that the French had, very early on the morning of this day, ineffectually attempted the passage of the Rhine, about fifteen miles higher up; and the firing had been distinctly heard at a little village where we dined.

  One road, as short as this, lies immediately upon the margin of the river; and, as we were assured that none but military parties were fired at, we wished to pass it, for the purpose of observing the ingenious methods, by which a country so circumstanced is defended; but our postillion, who dreaded, that he might be pressed by the Austrians, for the intrusion, refused to venture upon it, and, instead of proceeding to Kehl, which is directly opposite to Strasbourg, we took the road for Offenburg, about three leagues from the Rhine.

  The country through which our route now lay, better as it is than more northern parts, has suffered some positive injuries by the war. Before this, all the little towns, from Carlsruhe downwards, maintained some commerce with France, on their own account, and supplied carriage for that of others. In return for provisions and coarse commodities for manufacture, carried to Strasbourg, they received the silks and woollens of France, to be dispersed at Franckfort, or Manheim. The intercourse between the two countries was so frequent, that nearly all the tradesmen, and many of the labouring persons in this part of Germany speak a little French. The landlord of the house, where we dined, assured us that, though his village was so small, he had sufficient business before the war; now he was upon the point of removing to Offenburg, being unable to pay his rent, during the interruption of travelling.

  A little before sun-set, we came to Appenweyer, one of these towns, from the entrance of which the spires of Strasbourg were so plainly visible that we could see the fanes glittering against the light, and even the forms of the fortifications near the water could be traced. In the midst of the straggling town of Appenweyer the loud sounds of martial music and then the appearance of troops, entering at the opposite end, surprised us. This was the advanced guard of several Austrian regiments, on their march to reinforce the allied army in the Low Countries. Our postillion had drawn up, to surrender as much of the road as possible to them, but their march was so irregular, that they frequently thronged round the carriage; affording us sufficient opportunity to observe how far their air corresponded with what has been so often said of the Austrian soldiery.

  Except as to their dress and arms, their appearance is not military, according to any notion, which an Englishman is likely to have formed; that is, there is nothing of activity, nothing of spirit, of cheerf
ulness, of the correctness of discipline, or of the eagerness of the youthful in it. There is much of ferocity, much of timid cruelty, of sullenness, indolence and awkwardness. They dress up their faces with mustachios, and seem extremely desirous to impress terror. How far this may be effectual against other troops we cannot know; but they certainly are, by their ferocious manners, and by the traits, which a nearer view of them discloses, very terrible to the peaceful traveller. Though now immediately under the eyes of their officers they could scarcely refrain from petty insults, and from wishfully laying their hands upon our baggage.

  About a thousand men passed in two divisions, which had commenced their march a few hours before, for the purpose of avoiding the heat of the day. As we proceeded, the trodden corn in the sields shewed where they had rested.

  It was night before we reached Offenburg, where we were compelled to lodge at a wretched inn called the Post-house, the master of the other having that day removed to admit a new tenant; but the condition of the lodging was of little importance, for, all night, the heavy trampling of feet along the road below prevented sleep, and with the first dawn the sound of martial music drew us to the windows. It seemed like a dream, when the Austrian bands played ça ira, with double drums, and cymbals thrown almost up to our casements, louder than any we had ever heard before. This was the main body of the army, of which we had met the advanced party. Each regiment was followed by a long train of baggage carriages, of various and curious descriptions, some of the cabriolets having a woman nearly in man’s apparel in the front, and behind, a large basket higher than the carriage, filled with hay. This ‘“tide of human existence”’ continued to pass for several hours. But the whole army did not consist of more than three regiments of infantry, among which were those of D’Arcy, and Pellegrini, and one of horse; for each of the Austrian regiments of foot contains, when complete, two thousand three hundred men. They had with them a small train of artillery, and were to proceed to the Low Countries as quick as they could march; but, so uniform are the expedients of the councils of Vienna, that the opportunity of carrying these troops down the Rhine in barges from Phillipsburg, where it was practicable, was not adopted, though this method would have saved two weeks out of three, and have landed the army unfatigued at its post.

  All their regimentals were white, faced either with light blue, or pompadour, and seemed unsuitably delicate for figures so large and heavy. The cavalry were loaded with many articles of baggage, but their horses appeared to be of the strongest and most serviceable kind. This was a grand military show, which it was impossible to see without many reflections on human nature and human misery.

  Offenburg is a small town, in the Margraviate of Baden Baden, pleasantly seated at the feet of the Bergstrasse, which the road again approaches so near as to be somewhat obstructed by its acclivities. Our way lay along the base of these steeps, during the whole day; and as we drew nearer to Switzerland, their height became still more stupendous, and the mountains of Alsace seemed advancing to meet them in the long perspective; the plains between, through which the Rhine gleamed in long sweeps, appeared to be entirely covered with corn, and in the nearer scene joyous groups were loading the waggons with the harvest. An harvest of another kind was ripening among the lower rocks of the Bergstrasse, where the light green of the vines enlivened every cliff, and sometimes overspread the ruinous walls of what had once been fortresses.

  We passed many villages, shaded with noble trees, which had more appearance of comfort than any we had seen, and which were enviable for the pleasantness of their situation; their spacious street generally opening to the grandeur of the mountain vista, that extended to the south. In these landscapes the peasant girl, in the simple dress of the country, and balancing on her large straw hat an harvest keg, was a very picturesque figure.

  It was evening when we came within view of Friburg, the last city of Germany on the borders of Switzerland, and found ourselves among mountains, which partook of the immensity and sublimity of those of that enchanting country. But what was our emotion, when, from an eminence, we discovered the pointed summits of what we believed to be the Swiss mountains themselves, a multitudinous assemblage rolled in the far-distant prospect! This glimpse of a country of all others in Europe the most astonishing and grand, awakened a thousand interesting recollections and delightful expectations; while we watched with regret even this partial vision vanishing from our eyes as we descended towards Friburg. The mountains, that encompass this city, have so much the character of the great, that we immediately recollect the line of separation between Germany and Switzerland to be merely artificial, not marked even by a river. Yet while we yield to the awful pleasure which this eternal vastness inspires, we feel the insignificance of our temporary nature, and, seeming more than ever conscious by what a slender system our existence is upheld, somewhat of dejection and anxiety mingle with our admiration.

  2.24. FRIBURG

  IS an ancient Imperial city and the capital of the Brisgau. Its name alludes to the privileges granted to such cities; but its present condition, like that of many others, is a proof of the virtual discontinuance of the rights, by which the Sovereign intended to invite to one part of his dominions the advantages of commerce. Its appearance is that, which we have so often described; better than Cologne, and worse than Mentz; its size is about a third part of the latter city. On descending to it, the first distinct object is the spire of the great church, a remarkable structure, the stones of which are laid with open interstices, so that the light appears through its tapering sides. Of this sort of stone fillagree work there are said to be other specimens in Germany. The city was once strongly fortified, and has endured some celebrated sieges. In 1677, 1713, and 1745 is was taken by the French, who, in the latter year, destroyed all the fortifications, which had rendered it formidable, and left nothing but the present walls.

  Being, however, a frontier place towards Switzerland, it is provided with a small Austrian garrison; and the business of permitting, or preventing the passage of travellers into that country is entrusted to its officers. The malignity, or ignorance of one of these, called the Lieutenant de Place, prevented us from reaching it, after a journey of more than six hundred miles; a disappointment, which no person could bear without severe regret, but which was alloyed to us by the reports we daily heard of some approaching change in Switzerland unfavourable to England, and by a consciousness of the deduction which, in spite of all endeavours at abstraction, encroachments upon physical comfort and upon the assurance of peacefulness make from the disposition to enquiry, or fancy.

  We had delivered at the gate the German passport, recommended to us by M. de Schwartzkoff, and which had been signed by the Commandant at Mentz; the man, who took it, promising to bring it properly attested to our inn. He returned without the passport, and, as we afterwards found, carried our voiturier to be examined by an officer. We endeavoured in vain to obtain an explanation, as to this delay and appearance of suspicion, till, at supper, the Lieutenant de Place announced himself, and presently shewed, that he was not come to offer apologies. This man, an illiterate Piedmontese in the Austrian service, either believed, or affected to do so, that our name was not Radcliffe, but something like it, with a German termination, and that we were not English, but Germans. Neither my Lord Grenville’s, or M. de Schwartzkoff’s passports, our letters from London to families in Switzerland, nor one of credit from the Messrs. Hopes of Amsterdam to the Banking-house of Porta at Lausanne, all of which he pretended to examine, could remove this discerning suspicion as to our country. While we were considering, as much as vexation would permit, what circumstance could have afforded a pretext for any part of this intrusion, it came out incidentally, that the confirmation given to our passport at Mentz, which we had never examined, expressed ‘“returning to England,”’ though the pass itself was for Basil, to which place we were upon our route.

  Such a contradiction might certainly have justified some delay, if we had not been enabled to prove i
t accidental to the satisfaction of any person desirous of being right. The passport had been produced at Mentz, together with those of two English artists, then on their return from Rome, whom we had the pleasure to see at Franckfort. The Secretary inscribed all the passports alike for England, and M. de Lucadou, the Commandant, hastily signed ours, without observing the mistake, though he so well knew us to be upon the road to Switzerland, that he politely endeavoured to render us some service there. Our friends in Mentz being known to him, he desired us to accept an address from himself to M. de Wilde, Intendant of salt mines near Bec. We produced to Mr. Lieutenant this address, as a proof, that the Commandant both knew us, and where we were going; but it soon appeared, that, though the former might have honestly fallen into his suspicions at first, he had a malignant obstinacy in refusing to abandon them. He left us, with notice that we could not quit the town without receiving the Commandant’s permission by his means; and it was with some terror, that we perceived ourselves to be so much in his power, in a place where there was a pretext for military authority, and where the least expression of just indignation seemed to provoke a disposition for further injustice.

  The only relief, which could be hinted to us, was to write to the Commandant at Mentz, who might re-testify his knowledge of our destination; yet, as an answer could not be received in less than eight days, and, as imagination suggested not only all the possible horrors of oppression, during that period, but all the contrivances, by which the malignant disposition we had already experienced, might even then be prevented from disappointment, we looked upon this resource as little better than the worst, and resolved in the morning to demand leave for an immediate return to Mentz.