There are not fewer than forty-seven bridges in the interior of the town.
These cross the branches of the rivers _Ill_ and _Bruche_--which empty themselves into the _Rhine_. The fortifications of Strasbourg are equally strong and extensive; but they a.s.sumed formerly a more picturesque, if not a more powerful aspect.[204]
There are _seven parishes_; of which four are catholic, and three protestant. This brings me to lay before you a brief outline of the rise and progress of PROTESTANTISM in this place. Yet, as a preliminary remark, and as connected with our mutual antiquarian pursuits, you are to know that, besides parish churches, there were formerly _fourteen convents_, exclusively of chapelries. All these are minutely detailed in the recent work of M. Hermann,[205] from which indeed I have gleaned the chief of the foregoing particulars. A great many of these convents were suppressed in the sixteenth century, upon the establishment of the protestant religion.
But for a brief outline of the rise and progress of this establishment. It must indeed be brief; but if so, it shall at least be clear and faithful.
The forerunner of Luther (in my opinion) was JOHN GEYLER; a man of singular intrepidity of head and heart. He was a very extraordinary genius, unquestionably; and the works which he has bequeathed to posterity evince the variety of his attainments. Geyler preached boldly in the cathedral against the lax manners and doubtful morality of the clergy. He exhorted the magistrates to do their duty, and predicted that there must be an alteration of religious worship ere the general morals of the community could be amended. They preserve a stone chair or pulpit, of very curious workmanship, but which had nearly been destroyed during the Revolution, in which Geyler used to deliver his lectures. He died in 1510; and within a dozen years after his death the doctrines of LUTHER, were sedulously inculcated. The ground had been well prepared for such seed. The court of Rome looked on with uneasiness; and the Pope sent a legate to Strasbourg in 1522, to vent his anathemas, and to raise a strong party against the growth of this new heresy--as it was called. At this time, the reformed doctrine was even taught in the cathedral; and, a more remarkable thing to strike the common people, the RECTOR of the church of St. Thomas (the second religious establishment of importance, after that of the cathedral) VENTURED TO MARRY! He was applauded both by the common people and by many of the more respectable families. His example was followed: and the religious of both s.e.xes were allowed to leave their establishments, to go where they would, and to enter upon the married state. In 1530 the ma.s.s was generally abolished: and the protestant religion was constantly exercised in the cathedral.
The spirit both of Geyler and of Luther might have rejoiced to find, in 1550, the chapter of St. Thomas resolutely avowing its determination to perform the protestant--and nothing but the protestant--religion within its own extensive establishment. The flame of the new religion seemed now to have reached all quarters, and warmed all hearts. But a temporary check to its progress was given by the cautious policy of Charles V. That wary and heartless monarch (who had even less religion than he had of the ordinary feelings of humanity) interfered with the weight of his power, and the denunciations of his vengeance. Yet he found it necessary neither wholly to suppress, nor wholly to check, the progress of the protestant religion: while, on the other hand, the Strasbourgeois dreaded too much the effects of his power to dispute his will by any compact or alliance of opposition.
In 1550, therefore, the matter stood thus. The cathedral, and the collegiate and parish churches of St. Peter the Elder and St. Peter the Younger, as well as the Oratory of all Saints, adopted the _catholic_ form of worship. The other parish churches adopted that of the _protestant_. Yet in 1559 there happened such a serious affray in the cathedral church itself--between the Catholics and Protestants--as taught the former the obvious necessity of conceding as much as possible to the latter. It followed, that, towards the end of the same century, there were, in the cathedral chapter, _seventeen protestant_, and _eight catholic_ canons.
Among the _latter_, however, was the celebrated Cardinal de Lorraine:--one of the most powerful, the most furious, and the most implacable of the enemies of Protestantism. The part he took in the ma.s.sacre of St.
Bartholomew"s day, consigns his name to everlasting ignominy and detestation.
In 1610 a league was formed for the adjustment of the differences between the Catholics and Protestants: but the unfortunate thirty years war breaking out in 1618, and desolating nearly the whole of Germany, prevented the permanent consolidation of the interests of either party. All this time Strasbourg was under the power, as it even now speaks the language, and partakes of the customs and manners, of GERMANY: but its very situation rendered it the prey of both the contending powers of Germany and France.
At length came the memorable, and as I suspect treacherous, surrender of Strasbourg to the arms of Louis XIV, in September 1681; when the respective rights and privileges of the Catholics and Protestants were placed upon a definite footing: although, before this event, the latter had considerably the ascendancy. These rights were endeavoured to be shaken by the revocation of the edict of Nantes in 1685--not however before the Jesuits had been striving to warp the feelings of the latter in favour of the former. The catholic religion was, by the articles of the surrender of the city, established in the cathedral, in the subordinate churches of St.
Peter the Elder and St. Peter the Younger, and in the Oratory of All Saints: and it has continued to be exercised pretty much in the same proportion unto this day. The majority of the inhabitants are however decidedly Protestants. Such is a succinct, but I believe not unfaithful, account of the establishment of the PROTESTANT RELIGION at Strasbourg.
This subject therefore naturally brings me to notice the princ.i.p.al _Temple of Worship_ in which the rites of either religion seem, for a long time, to have been alternately exercised; and this temple can be no other than _the Minster_--or, as we should say, the _Cathedral._ Ere I a.s.sume the office of the historian, let me gratify my inclinations as a spectator. Let me walk round this stupendous structure. At this moment, therefore, consider me as standing in full gaze before its west front--from which the tower springs.
This tower seems to reach to heaven. Indeed the whole front quite overwhelms you with alternate emotions of wonder and delight. Luckily there is some little s.p.a.ce before it, in which trees have been recently planted; and where (as I understand) the fruit and vegetable market is held. At the further end of this s.p.a.ce in approaching the Cathedral, and in running the eye over the whole front, the first thing that strikes you is, the red or copperas colour of the stone--which I presume to be a species of sand stone. This gives a sort of severe metallic effect. However you are riveted to the spot wherein you command the first general survey of this unparalleled front. The delicacy, the finish, the harmonious intricacy, and faery-like lightness, of the whole--even to the summit of the spire;--which latter indeed has the appearance of filigree work, raised by enchantment, and through the interstices of which the bright blue sky appears with a l.u.s.tre of which you have no conception in England--all this, I say, perfectly delights and overwhelms you. You want words to express your ideas, and the extent of your gratification. You feel convinced that the magnificent edifice before you seems to be the _ne plus ultra_ of human skill in ornamental gothic architecture. Undoubtedly one regrets here, as at Antwerp, the absence of a corresponding tower; but you are to form your judgment upon what is _actually_ before you, and, at the same time, to bear in mind that this tower and spire--for it partakes of both characters--is full _four hundred and seventy four_ English feet in height![206]--and, consequently, some twenty or thirty feet only lower than the top of St.
Peter"s at Rome. One is lost in astonishment, on bearing such an alt.i.tude in mind, considering the delicacy of the spire. There is no place fitting for a satisfactory view of it, within its immediate vicinity.[207]
This western front, or facade, is divided into three stages or compartments. The bottom or lower one is occupied by three magnificent porches; of which the central is by far the loftiest and most ornamental.
The period of their execution is from the year 1270 to 1320: a period, when gothic architecture was probably at its highest pitch of perfection. The central porch is divided into five compartments on each side--forming an angle of about forty-five degrees with the door-way. The lower parts of these divisions contain each a statue, of the size of life, upon its respective pediment. The upper parts, which blend with the arch-like construction, are filled with small statues, upon pediments, having a sort of brilliant, fretted appearance. All these figures are representations of characters in Scripture. Again, above this archway, forming the central ornaments of the sharper angles, are the figures of the Almighty, the Virgin and Child, and Solomon. In front, above the door way, upon a flat surface, are four sculptured compartments; devoted to scriptural subjects.
The same may be said of the right and left porch. They are equally elaborate, and equally devoted to representations of scriptural subjects.
They will have it, that, according to tradition, the daughter of Ervin de Steinbach, the chief architect of the western front, worked a great deal at this central porch, and even sculptured several of the figures. However this may be, the _tout ensemble_ is really beyond any thing which could be satisfactorily conveyed by a written description.
We now cast our eye upon the second division of this stupendous facade; and here our attention is almost exclusively devoted to the enormous circular or marygold window, in the central compartment. It is filled with stained gla.s.s--and you are to know that the circ.u.mference of the outer circle is one hundred and sixty-English feet: or about fifty-three feet in diameter; and I challenge you to shew me the like--in any building of which you have any knowledge!
Perhaps the most wonderful part of this structure is the open filigree work of the tower, immediately above the platform: though I admit that the _spiral_ part is exceedingly curious and elaborate. Of course there was no examining such a wonder without mounting to the platform, and ascending the tower itself. The platform is about three hundred feet from the pavement.
We quitted this tenement, and walked straight forward upon the platform.
What a prospect was before us. There flowed the RHINE! I felt an indescribable joy on my first view of that majestic river. There it flowed ... broad and rapid ... and apparently peaceful, within its low banks. On the other, or eastern side of it, was a range of lofty hills, of a mountainous character. On the opposite side of the town ran the great chain of hills--called the VOSGES--which we had crossed in our route hither; and of which we had now a most extensive and un.o.bstructed view.
These hills were once the abode of adventurous chieftains and powerful n.o.bles; and there was scarcely an eminence but what had been formerly crowned by a baronial castle.[208] Below, appeared the houses of Strasbourg ... shrunk to rabbit-hutches--and the people ... to emmets!
It remained to ascend the opposite tower. At each of the four corners there is a spiral stair-case, of which the exterior is open work, consisting of slender but lofty pillars; so that the ascending figure is seen at every convolution. It has a fearful appearance to the adventurer: but there is scarcely the possibility of danger. You go round and round, and observe three distinct terminations of the central work within--forming three roofs--of which, the _third_ is eminently beautiful. I could not help expressing my astonishment at some of the exterior columns, which could not be much less than threescore feet in height, and scarcely twelve inches in diameter! Having gained the top of one of these corner spiral stair-cases, I breathed and looked around me. A new feature presented itself to my view.
About one hundred feet beneath, was the body of this huge cathedral.
Immediately above, rose the beautifully-tapering and curiously ornamented SPIRE--to the height of probably, one hundred and twenty-five feet! It seemed indeed as if both tower and spire were direct ladders to the sky.
The immortal artist who constructed them, and who lived to witness the completion of his structure, was JOAN HuLTZ, a native of Cologne. The date of their completion is 1449. Thus, on the continent as well as in England, the period of the most florid style of gothic architecture was during the first half of the fifteenth century.
I essayed to mount to the very pinnacle; or _bouton_ of the spire; but the ascent was impracticable--owing to the stair-case being under repair. On the summit of this spire, there once stood a _statue of the Virgin,_ above a cross. That statue was taken down at the end of the fifteenth century, and is now placed over the south porch. But, what do you think supplied its place during the late Revolution, or in the year of our Lord 1794, on the 4th day of May? Truly, nothing less than a large cap, made of tin, and painted red--called the _Cap of Liberty!_ Thank heaven, this latter was pulled down in due time--and an oblong diamond-shaped stone is now the finishing piece of masonry of this wonderful building. In descending, I stopped again at the platform, and was requested to see the GREAT BELL; of which I had heard the deep-mouthed roar half a dozen times a day, since my arrival. It is perhaps the finest toned bell in Europe, and appeared to me terrifically large--being nearer eight than seven feet high.[209] They begin to toll it at four or five o"clock in the summer-mornings, to announce that the gates of the town are opened. In case of fire at night, it is very loudly tolled; and during a similar accident in the day time, they suspend a pole, with a red flag at the end of it, over that part of the platform which is in a line with the direction of the fire.
A grand defect in the structure of this Cathedral, as it strikes me, is, that the nave and transepts do not seem to belong to such a western front.
They sink into perfect insignificance. Nor is the style of their exterior particularly deserving of description. Yet there is _one_ feature in the external architecture of this Cathedral--namely, a series or suite of DROLLERIES ... of about four or five feet high ... which cannot fail to attract the antiquary"s especial notice. These figures are coa.r.s.ely but spiritedly cut in stone. They are placed upon the bracket which supports the galleries, or balcony, of the eastern side of the facade of the tower, and are about sixty-five English feet from the ground. They extend to thirty-two feet in length. Through the kind offices of my friend Mr.
Schweighaeuser, junior, (of whom by and by) I have obtained drawings of these droll subjects,[210] and I am sure that, in common with many of our friends, you will be amused with the sight of a few of them. They are probably of the date of 1370;
[Ill.u.s.tration]
[Ill.u.s.tration]
The common people call this series the _Sabbath of Demons,_ or _the Dance of the Witches_. You are to know, however, that on the opposite side of the cathedral there is a series of figures, of the same size, and executed nearly in the same style of art, descriptive of scriptural events, mixed with allegorical subjects. Having now pointed out what appears to me to be chiefly interesting in the _exterior_ of this marvellous building, it is right that I give you some notion of its _interior_: which will however occupy but a short portion of your attention. Indeed--I grieve to speak it--both the exterior and interior of the _nave_ are wholly unworthy of such a magnificent west-front.
The nave and choir together are about three hundred and fifty-five English feet in length; of which the nave is two hundred and forty-four--evidently of too scanty dimensions. The width of the nave and side aisles is one hundred and thirty-two feet: the height of the nave is only seventy-two feet. The larger of the nine cl.u.s.tered columns is full seventy-two feet in circ.u.mference; the more delicate, thirty feet. There is really nothing striking in this nave; except that, on turning round, and looking up to the painted gla.s.s of the circular or marygold window, you observe the colours of it, which are very rich, and absolutely gay, compared with those of the other windows. There is a profusion of painted gla.s.s in almost all the windows; but generally of a sombre tint, and of a correspondent gloomy effect. Indeed, in consequence of this profusion, the cathedral absolutely wants light.
The choir is sixty-seven feet wide, without side aisles, and is much lower than the nave. It is impossible to speak of this choir without indignation.
My good friend--the whole of this interior has recently undergone rather a martyrdom than a metamorphosis. The sides are almost entirely covered with _Grecian_ pilasters and pillars; and so are the ornaments about the altar.
What adds to the wretched effect of the whole, is, a coat of _white-wash_, which was liberally bestowed upon it some forty years ago; and which will require at least the lapse of another century to subdue its staring effect.
There are only three chapels in this cathedral. Of _altars_ there are not fewer than twelve: the princ.i.p.al being in the chapels of St. Lawrence and St. Catharine.
It was near the chapel of _St. Catharine_, that, on the morning of our first visit, we witnessed a group of country people, apparently from the neighbourhood of _Saverne_--from their huge, broad, flat hats--engaged in devotion before the image of some favourite saint. The rays of a bright sun darted through the windows, softened by the varied tints of the stained gla.s.s, upon their singular countenances and costumes; and the effect was irresistibly striking and interesting.
In the centre of the south transept, there rises a fine, slender, cl.u.s.tered column, reaching to its very summit. On the exterior of this column--placed one above another, but retreating or advancing, or in full view, according to the position of the spectator--are several figures, chiefly females; probably five feet high, with labels or scrolls, upon each of which is an inscription. I never saw any thing more elegant and more striking of its kind. These figures reach a great way up the pillar--probably to the top-- but at this moment I cannot say decidedly. It is here, too, that the famous Strasbourg _Clock_, (about which one Dasypodius hath published a Latin treatise in a slim quarto volume[211]) is placed. This, and the tower, were called the _two great wonders of Germany_. This clock may be described in few words: premising, that it was preceded by a clock of very extraordinary workmanship, fabricated in the middle of the fourteenth century--of which, the _only_ existing portion is, a _c.o.c.k_, upon the top of the left perpendicular ornament, which, upon the hourly chiming of the bells, used to flap his wings, stretch out his neck, and crow twice; but being struck by lightning in the year 1640, it lost its power of action and of sending forth sound. No modern skill has been able to make this c.o.c.k crow, or to shake his wings again. The clock however is now wholly out of order, and should be placed elsewhere. It is very lofty; perhaps twenty feet high: is divided into three parts, of which the central part represents _Our Saviour_ and _Death_, in the middle, each in the act as if to strike a bell. When, in complete order, Death used to come forward to strike the _quarters_; and, having struck them, was instantly repelled by our Saviour.
When he came forward to strike the _hour_, our Saviour in turn retreated:-- a whimsical and not very comprehensible arrangement. But old clocks used to be full of these conceits.
Upon throwing an eye over what I have just written, I find that I have omitted to notice the celebrated STONE PULPIT, in the nave, enriched with small figures--of the latter end of the fifteenth century. In fact, the date of 1485, in arabic numerals, (if I remember rightly) is at the bottom of it, to the right of the steps. This pulpit, my good friend, is nothing less than the very ecclesiastical rostrum from which the famous _John Geyler_ thundered his anathemas against the monkish clergy. You may remember that some slight notice was taken of it at the beginning of this letter, in which the progress of Protestantism at Strasbourg was attempted to be traced. I will frankly own to you, that, of all pulpits, throughout Normandy, or in Paris--as yet examined by me--I have seen none which approaches to THIS; so rich, varied, and elaborate are its sculptured ornaments.[212] The Revolutionists could only contrive to knock off the figure which was upon the top of the canopy, with other contiguous ornaments; all of which might be easily restored.
[Ill.u.s.tration: STONE PULPIT, STRASBOURG CATHEDRAL.]
A word now about the great _Organ_. If Strasbourg have been famous for architects, masons, bell-founders, and clock-makers, it has been not less so for organ builders. As early as the end of the thirteenth century, there were several organs in this cathedral: very curious in their structure, and very sonorous in their notes. The present great organ, on the _left side_ of the nave, on entering at the western door, was built by Silbermann about a century-ago: and is placed about fifty feet above the pavement. It has six bellowses, each bellows being twelve feet long and six wide: but they are made to act by a very simple and sure process. The tone is tremendous-- when all the stops are pulled out--as I once heard it, during the performance of a particularly grand chorus! Yet is this tone mellow and pleasing at the same time. Notwithstanding the organ could be hardly less than three hundred feet distant from the musicians in the choir, it sent forth sounds so powerful and grand--as almost to overwhelm the human voice, with the accompaniments of trombones and serpents. Perhaps you will not be astonished at this, when I inform you that it contains not fewer than two thousand two hundred and forty-two pipes. This is not the first time you have heard me commend the organs upon the Continent.
One of the most remarkable features belonging to the history of Strasbourg cathedral, is, the number of _shocks of earthquakes_ which have affected the building. It is barely possible to enumerate all these frightful accidents; and still more difficult to give credence to one third of them.
They seem to have happened two or three times every century; and, latterly, yet more frequently. Take one recital as a specimen: and believe it--if you can. In the year 1728, so great was the agitation of the earth, that the tower was moved one foot out of its perpendicular direction--but recovered its former position presently. "What however is _quite certain_--(says Grandidier)--the holy water, contained in a stone reservoir or basin, at the bottom of a column, near the pavement, was thrown by this same agitation, to upwards of _half the height of a man_--and to the distance of _eighteen feet!_ The record of this marvellous transaction is preserved in a Latin inscription, on a slab of black marble, fastened to the lower part of the tower, near the platform."[213] In 1744 a severe tempest of thunder and lightning occasioned some serious injuries to portions of the cathedral; but in 1759 it suffered still more from a similar cause. Indeed the havoc among the slighter ornamental parts, including several delicately carved figures, is recorded to have been dreadful.
Of the subordinate churches of Strasbourg, the princ.i.p.al, both for size and antiquity, is that of _St. Thomas_. I visited it several times. The exterior is one of the most tasteless jumbles of all styles and ages of art that can be imagined; and a portion of it is covered with brick. But I question if there be not parts much older than the cathedral. The interior compensates somewhat for the barbarism of the outside. It is large and commodious, but sadly altered from its original construction; and has recently been trimmed up and smartened in the true church-warden style. The great boast of this church is its MONUMENTS; which, it must be confessed, are upon the whole exceedingly interesting. As to their antiquity, I noticed two or three of the thirteenth century; but they pretend to run up as high as the tenth. Indeed I saw one inscription of the eleventh century--executed in gothic letters, such as we observe of the latter end of the sixteenth. This could not be a coeval inscription; for I doubt whether there exist, any where, a monumental tablet of the eleventh century executed in _coeval gothic_ letters. The service performed here is after the confession of Augsbourg; in other words, according to the reformed Lutheran church. A small crucifix, placed upon an altar between the nave and the choir, delicately marks this distinction; for Luther, you know, did not wage an interminable war against crucifixes.
Of _modern_ monuments, the boast and glory of this church is that of the famous MARSHAL SAXE; who died at the age of 55, in the year 1755. While I was looking very intently at it, the good verger gently put a printed description of it into my hands, on a loose quarto sheet. I trust to be forgiven if I read only its first sentence:--_Cette grande composition reunit aux richesse de l"art des Phidias et des Bouchardon, les traits de la grande poesie._" "Take any shape but this"--thought I to myself--and, folding it up as gently as it had been delivered to me, I put it into my pocket. My good friend, I do beseech you to hear me out--when I preface my remarks by saying, that, of all monuments, _this_ is one of the most tasteless and uninteresting. Listen to a brief but faithful description of it.
An immense pyramidal-shaped gray marble forms the background. Upon such a back-ground there might have been a group of a _dozen_ figures at least.
However, there happen to be only _four_ of the human species, and three of animals. These human figures are, the Marshal; a woman weeping l.u.s.tily--I had almost said blubbering; (intended to represent France) Hercules; and a little child--of some order or degree, not less affected than the female.
The animals are, a lion, a leopard, (which latter has a bear-like form) and an eagle. I will now tell you what they are all doing. Before the Marshal, is an opened grave; into which this ill.u.s.trious hero, clad in complete armour, is about to march with a quiet, measured step--as unconcernedly, as if he were descending a flight of steps which led to a conservatory. The woman--that is France--is, in the meantime, weeping aloud; pointing to the grave, and very persuasively intreating the Marshal to enter--as his mortal moments have expired. I should add that death--a large formidable-looking figure, veiled by a piece of drapery, is also at hand: seeming to imply that hesitation and reluctance, on the part of the hero, are equally unavailing. Next comes Hercules; who is represented as stationary, thoughtful, and sorrow-stricken, as France is agitated and in motion. The lion and leopard (one representing Holland, and the other England-- intending to convey the idea that the hero had beaten the armies of both countries) are between the Marshal and Hercules: the leopard is lying upon his back--in a very frolicksome att.i.tude. The lion is also not less abstracted from the general grief of the figures. And this large, ugly, unmeaning composition--they have the temerity to call the union of art by Phidias and Bouchardon--with the inspiration of sublime poetry! I will make no comments.[214] It is one of those _felicitous_ efforts which have the enviable distinction of carrying its own text and commentary. Below this vast mural monument, is a vault, containing the body of the Marshal. I descended into it, and found it well ventilated and dry. The coffin is immediately obvious: it contains the body of the chieftain enclosed in two cases--of which the first is _silver_, and the second _copper_. The heart is, I believe, elsewhere.
Forming a strikingly happy contrast to this huge, unmeaning production--are the modest and una.s.suming monuments of _Schoepflin_, _Oberlin_, and _Koch_: men, of whom Strasbourg has good reason to be proud. Nor let the monument of old _Sebastian Schmidt_ escape the notice and commendation of the pensive observer. These were all "fine fellows in their day:" and died, including the ill.u.s.trious Marshal, steady in the faith they had espoused-- that is, in the belief and practice of the tenets of the reformed church. I have no time for a particular description of these monuments. Schoepflin"s consists of a bronze bust of himself placed in the front of a white marble urn, between two cinnamon-colour columns, of the Corinthian order--of free stone. The head is thought to be very like. Oberlin"s is in better taste.
You see only his profile, by Ohmacht, in white marble--very striking. The accompaniments are figures in white marble, of which a muse, in rilievo, is larger than life. The inscriptions, both for Schoepflin and Oberlin, are short and simple, and therefore appropriate. The monument of Koch is not less simple. It consists of his bust--about to be crowned with a fillet of oaken leaves--by a figure representing the city of Strasbourg. Below the bust is another figure weeping--and holding beneath its arms, a scroll, upon which the works of the deceased are enumerated. Koch died in his seventy-sixth year, in the year 1813. Ohmacht is also the sculptor of Koch"s monument. Upon the whole, I am not sure that I have visited any church, since the cathedral of Rouen, of which the interior is more interesting, on the score of monuments, than that of St. Thomas at Strasbourg.
I do not know that it is necessary to say any thing about the old churches of St. Stephen and St. Martin: except that the former is supposed to be the most ancient. It was built of stone, and said to be placed upon a spot in which was a Roman fort--the materials of which served for a portion of the present building. St. Martin"s was erected in 1381 upon a much finer plan than that of _St. Arbogaste_--which is said to have been built in the middle of the twelfth century. Among the churches, now no longer _wholly_ appropriated to sacred uses, is that called the _New Temple_--attached to which is the Public Library. The service in this church is according to the Protestant persuasion. I say this Church is not _wholly_ devoted to religious rites: for what was once the _choir_, contains, at bottom, the BOOKS belonging to the public University; and, at top, those which were bequeathed to the same establishment by Schoepflin. The general effect-- both from the pavement below, and the gallery above--is absolutely transporting. Shall I tell you wherefore? This same ancient choir--now devoted to _printed tomes_--contains some lancet-shaped windows of _stained gla.s.s_ of the most beautiful and exquisite pattern and colours!... such as made me wholly forget those at _Toul_, and _almost_ those at _St. Owen_.
Even the stained gla.s.s of the cathedral, here, was recollected... only to suffer by the comparison! It should seem that the artist had worked with alternate dissolutions of amethyst, topaz, ruby, garnet, and emerald. Look at the first three windows, to the left on entering, about an hour before sun-set:--they seem to fill the whole place with a preternatural splendor!
The pattern is somewhat of a Persian description, and I should apprehend the antiquity of the workmanship to be scarcely exceeding three hundred years. Yet I must be allowed to say, that these exquisitely sparkling, if not unrivalled, specimens of stained gla.s.s, do not belong to a place now _wholly_ occupied by _books_. Could they not be placed in the chapel of St.
Lawrence, or of St. Catharine, in the cathedral?
As I am now at the close of my account of ecclesiastical edifices--and as this last church happens to be closely connected with a building of a different description--namely, The PUBLIC LIBRARY--you will allow me to _colophonise_ my first Strasbourg epistle with some account of the _contents_ of this library.
The amiable and excellent younger Schweighaeuser, who is head librarian, and one of the Professors in this Gymnase, was so obliging as to lend me the key of the library, to which I had access at all hours of the day. The public hours are from two till four, Sundays excepted. I own that this accommodation was extremely agreeable and convenient to me. I was under no restraint, and thus left to my own conscience alone not to abuse the privilege conceded. That conscience has never given me one "p.r.i.c.k" since the conclusion of my researches.[215]
My researches were usually carried on above stairs, at the table where the visitors sat. Of the MSS. I did not deem it worth while to take any particular account; but there was _one_, so choice, so splendid, so curious, so interesting, and in such an extraordinary state of preservation, that you may as well know it is called the famous _Hortus Deliciarum_ of _Herarde, Abbess of Landsberg_. The subjects are miscellaneous; and most elaborately represented by illuminations. Battles, sieges, men tumbling from ladders which reach to the sky--conflagrations, agriculture--devotion, penitence--revenge, murder,--in short, there is hardly a pa.s.sion, animating the human breast, but what is represented here.
The figures in armour have _nasals_, and are in quilted mail: and I think there can be little doubt but that both the text and the decorations are of the latter end of the twelfth century. It is so perfect in all its parts, and so rich of its particular description, that it not only well merits the labour which has been bestowed upon it by its recent editor Mr.
Engleheardt, but it may probably vie with any similar production in Europe.[216]
However, of other MSS. you will I am sure give me credit for having examined the celebrated _Depositions in the law-suit between Fust and Gutemberg_--so intimately connected with the history of early printing, and so copiously treated upon by recent bibliographers.[217] I own that I inspected these depositions (in the German language) with no ordinary curiosity. They are doubtless most precious; yet I cannot help suspecting that the _character_ or letter is _not_ of the time; namely of 1440. It should rather seem to be of the sixteenth century. Perhaps at the commencement of it. These doc.u.ments are written in a small folio volume, in one uniform hand--a kind of law-gothic--from beginning to end. The volume has the following t.i.tle on the exterior; "_Dicta Testium magni consilij Anno dni m^o. cccc^o. Tricesimo nono_. The paper is strong and thick, and has a pair of scales for the water-mark. The younger Schweighaeuser thinks my doubts about its age not well founded; conceiving it to be a coeval doc.u.ment. But this does not affect its authenticity, as it may have been an accurate and attested copy--of an original which has now perished.
Certainly the whole book has very much the air of a _Copy_: and besides, would not the originals have been upon separate rolls of parchment?[218]
I now come to the PRINTED BOOKS: of which, according to the MS. catalogue by Oberlin, (who was head librarian here) there are not fewer _than four thousand three hundred, printed before the year 1520_:--and of these, again, upwards of _eleven hundred without dates_. This, at first hearing, sounds, what the curious would call, promising; but I must say, that of the _dated_ and _dateless_ books, printed before the year 1500, which I took down, and carefully opened--and this number could not be less than four or five hundred--there was scarcely one in five which repaid the toil of examination: and this too, with a thermometer frequently standing at eighty-nine and ninety, in the shade in the open air! Fortunately for my health, and for the exertion of physical strength, the public library happened to be very cool--while all the windows were opened, and through the openings was frequently heard the sound of young voices, practising the famous _Martin Luther"s Hymn_--as it is called. This latter was particularly grateful to me. I heard the master first sing a stave, and he was in general accurately followed by his pupils--who displayed the well-known early tact of Germans in the science of music. But to revert to the early printed books.