CHAPTER IV.
CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE OF AUSTRIA IN GENERAL.
The south of Germany would be the most fortunate country in Europe, if the government to which it is subject had not shown in many circumstances a weakness that but ill accords with the wisdom of its views. Temperate in its climate, fertile from the nature of its soil, and happy in its institutions, it remains invariably in a monotonous state of well-being, which is prejudicial to the activity of the mind alone, not to the happiness of the citizens. The inhabitants of this peaceful and fertile country have but one wish, that is, to live to-morrow as they lived yesterday. This tranquillity which in Austria pervades all classes of society is surely preferable to that agitation and thirst of wealth which torment almost all ranks in other countries. Thus industry, ease and domestic enjoyments are more highly valued in Austria than elsewhere: there every thing is done rather out of duty than for fame; and no man looks for the reward of his actions in the empty popularity which merely flatters pride and vanity, without ever gratifying the heart.
A nation which has no other motive than a love of its duties must be essentially a generous and an upright nation. What nation displays, on the whole, more integrity and generosity than the Austrians? They carry the love of their sovereigns to the highest pitch, and that because they regard this love as the most sacred of duties. Let their rulers be ever so unfortunate, their attachment is but the stronger, and the greatest sacrifices seem to cost them nothing.
The Germans in general, and the Austrians in particular, possess a sincerity and a probity that are proof against every thing. These valuable qualities originate as much in the excellence of their institutions as of their hearts. Their tranquil and peaceful disposition as well as their domestic habits, encourage in them a love of order and union from which they never deviate.
In consequence of this love of order the Austrians are remarkably neat in their dress, so that you seldom see among them, as in other countries, wretches in rags by the side of elegance and luxury. There is not an Austrian peasant but possesses a decent suit of clothes, boots, and a furred great coat for winter. Enter their habitations and you will find the same neatness and cleanliness which are conspicuous in their habiliments. In these rustic dwellings nothing announces affluence, but on the other hand there is nothing to denote poverty and indigence. When the lower classes of a nation are well dressed, who can doubt its wealth and its prosperity?
The Austrians have been generally considered as ceremonious, and as attaching too much importance to the formalities of etiquette. Foreigners have been apt to ridicule them on this account, without reflecting that this adherence to forms and ceremonies is a result of their love of order and decorum. It must nevertheless be confessed that, if etiquette and the forms of politeness are more strictly observed in Germany than in other countries, this is partly owing to the prerogatives enjoyed there by the nobility. Though the line between the classes is much more strongly marked than elsewhere, still there is nothing offensive in that demarcation. The differences of rank are confined to a few court privileges, and the right of admittance to certain assemblies, which afford too little pleasure to deserve much regret. In fact the grandees of Vienna, who are the most magnificent and wealthy in Europe, are so far from abusing the advantages they possess, that in the streets they suffer the meanest vehicles to stop their brilliant equipages. The emperor himself, and his brothers, when they go abroad drive quietly along in the file of hackney-coaches, and take delight to appear in their amusements as private individuals.
As to the national character, there is but little opportunity for its development in Austria, since the different nations who inhabit the various provinces of that empire do not form a compact whole, and are not all actuated by the same spirit. Two great causes, however, might give a certain stimulus to the public mind, and also excite patriotism in Austria; these are, the love of the country and of the sovereign; and the felicity which all the inhabitants enjoy under protecting laws. Husbandmen rather than traders, the Austrians are for this very reason more attached to their native soil. The interests of the country are in fact more closely connected with those of the cultivator of the soil, than of the merchant, whose almost only object is the success of his speculations, on which his precarious existence depends. Agriculture is honoured in Austria, and the most illustrious of its princes, as well as the sovereign himself, are fully sensible of its importance to an empire possessing so fertile a soil.
The Austrian nation is perhaps the most upright and the most moral of any in Europe. There is not an Austrian, with the exception of the higher class of society, but feels that morality is the genuine source of domestic happiness and the guarantee of the peace of families. The sacred ties of marriage are still respected; and how indeed could it well be otherwise in a country where woman is devoted to her conjugal duties and finds the reward of this devotedness in the scrupulous fidelity of him who is its object! Conjugal love always leads to maternal affection; and the Austrian women are all, or nearly all, excellent mothers. They are not more ostentatious in their attachment to their children than in their love for their husbands: so that the name of her who sacrifices herself for the object of a pure and tender affection remains for ever unknown to the world. Divorce, which introduces a kind of anarchy into families, has never been sanctioned by the laws of Austria, and this is not one of the least important benefits that it owes to its legislation.
The fair sex in Austria have in general auburn hair, delicate complexions and large blue eyes, the united effect of which there would be no withstanding, did not their modesty and simplicity command respect, and temper by the charm of virtue the too powerful impression of their beauty. They delight by their sensibility, as they interest by their imagination. Without being too much addicted to the cultivation of literature and the fine arts, they are no strangers to the best productions of either; and when you have once gained their confidence you are astonished at their knowledge, which they never display but in spite of themselves. The Austrian ladies speak with equal fluency all the languages of Europe; and in company they possess in general a marked superiority over the men.
These observations apply particularly to the women of the higher classes: as to those of inferior rank, they can scarcely be surpassed for goodness of disposition and purity of morals. The maternal love of these rustics is too strong not to preserve them from those faults which are unhappily too common among females of the same condition in many other countries. Labour and the exercises of religion occupy them entirely, and exempt them from those vices which are generated by idleness. They are, however, charged, at least those of some districts, with being too much addicted to spirituous liquors, and with impairing by this indulgence their circumstances and their health.
The men are in general tall, well proportioned, and of a ruddy complexion: but though few ordinary persons are to be found among them, it is rarely that you meet with forms distinguished by that higher sort of manly beauty which is frequently seen in the south of Europe, and which furnished models for the finest statues of antiquity. The Germans still answer the description given by Tacitus of their ancestors: they are almost all fair and light complexioned: and their souls do not possess the energy which their stature and strength would seem to denote.
CHAPTER V.
AUSTRIA, LOWER AND UPPER.
INHABITANTS OF LOWER AUSTRIA—MANNERS OF THE PEOPLE OF VIENNA—AMUSEMENTS—HOUSES—POPULATION AND MORTALITY—SHOPS—PAVED STREETS—THE FIRE-WATCH—COSTUMES OF UPPER AUSTRIA.
The inhabitants of Lower Austria, in which the capital of the empire is situated, are, with the Hungarians, the most fortunate of the subjects of the imperial sceptre. Cultivating a fertile soil, and not having, like the Styrians and the Tyrolese, to struggle incessantly against an inclement climate, they are happy in their geographical position; and they are in general deserving of it by the excellence of their disposition. Harbouring none but the milder sentiments, they have more gentleness than energy, and more good nature than elevation. The Austrians are a simple and a hospitable nation; and the same observation applies to their nobles, who never assume the German or rather the Austrian pride, unless when they would enforce the prerogatives of birth. A stranger has least to suffer from this narrow-mindedness, which is becoming the less common, the more the education of the higher classes is improved, and the more they learn that true nobility ought to display itself in exalted sentiments alone.
It is natural to suppose that there must be a great difference between the manners, customs and dress of the inhabitants of Lower Austria, according as they reside in the country or in cities, or belong to the working classes which, in Austria, as in other countries, have manners peculiar to themselves.
The manners of the higher classes in Vienna and in the other towns of Lower Austria, are in general mild and simple; and they are found in harmony with that good nature which is the most distinguishing feature in the Austrian character. Though the nobility are not free from the imputation of haughtiness and of attaching too much value to titles and honorary distinctions, it cannot be denied that much hospitality prevails among them as among the wealthy tradesmen. Many of the upper classes keep open tables; and in many houses visitors are permitted at all hours of the day and even until midnight, to partake alike of every repast that is served up and of the conversation.
It is alleged, and not without reason, that the people of Vienna are rather too fond of good cheer. This is a general propensity of all classes; so that those whose means will not permit them to have delicacies are sure to indemnify themselves by the abundance of their viands. The lower ranks always mingle with this indulgence a fondness for other amusements, such as dancing and walking. The tradesman of the capital takes great delight on a Sunday in a little country excursion with his family; and as the parks of the grandees are open to all comers, these are generally the places of rendezvous. He also frequents the Prater and the public places of the metropolis; he looks and listens with interest to all that passes, provided he is not watched; for instead of wishing, like a Frenchman, for instance, to attract attention, he feels uncomfortable as soon as he is noticed. His whole happiness centres in himself and his numerous family, from which he never likes to be parted. This picture of the happiness of the people of Vienna is the more pleasing since it is not chequered, as in most of the great cities of Europe, with the appearance of squalid misery. In fact you can there distinguish but two classes, the nobles and the citizens; all below them being blended by a certain degree of luxury and ease with the latter.
In winter, companies do not assemble about the stoves as round our fire-places. The equable heat diffused by these stoves admits of their breaking into groups in the different apartments, which thus assume the appearance of a coffee-house. Servants in party-coloured liveries hand round all sorts of refreshments and sometimes the mistress of the house does the honours of it herself with an engaging attention that charms a stranger. In general, however, she takes this duty on herself only when she wishes to honour in a particular manner persons of distinction or eminent travellers; at other times, leaving every visitor to amuse himself as he pleases. In these societies, you observe numbers of ribbons of all colours, and chamberlains’ keys at all pockets; these distinctions are so common that a person who has none is almost a singularity. What renders these companies rather irksome is the practice which prevails of not calling any one by his name but only by his title. Thus you hear the persons about you greeted by the appellations of baron, director, inspector, captain, duke, or general; and remain ignorant of their real names unless some friend takes the trouble to tell you who they are.
The ladies, on these occasions, are almost always ranged in a circle, chatting together or engaged in various works of embroidery, frequently to the number of thirty or forty. The young men of Vienna never make their appearance at these parties: hence their manners have not the polish which the habit of keeping good company imparts, nor do they pay those attentions which are due to the sex. In these companies you only meet with a few young Austrian or foreign princes, who but too frequently imagine that their rank exempts them from that delicate politeness which virtuous women inspire and can duly appreciate.
It is not to the want of accomplishments in the Austrian ladies, that the indifference of the young men in regard to them must be attributed, but to the unsociable habits of the latter. Their education having been in general neglected, riding and hunting occupy all the leisure which they do not pass at the coffee-houses, in smoking and play. The rest of their time is devoted to the pleasures of the table. With such a way of life and such habits, how is it possible to keep up that tone of decency which it is necessary to maintain in a select company? Nothing seems to them so difficult and so irksome, and to avoid this unpleasant restraint, they keep away from such societies altogether.
Being thus left to themselves, the ladies of Vienna can do no other than seek the company of the foreigners whom they find possessed of amiable manners and information. Flattered by their attentions, and tired of the society of men, which is generally monotonous enough in Austria, the stranger exerts himself still more to please. He feels a deeper interest in studying their character; the better he becomes acquainted with it, the more he esteems them; and he is astonished that females so gentle, so lovely, and so fascinating, should be forsaken by those whom they are so well qualified to delight.
The young men of rank at Vienna, having in general no occupation, and as we have seen shunning company, are but too apt to yield to the seductions of the gaming-table. Numerous instances of the fatal effects of this baneful passion might be related; but circumstances of this nature are too common in most other civilized countries to appear extraordinary.
The picture of the manners and amusements of the higher classes at Vienna, drawn by Dr. Bright, is interesting.
Morning calls, says that traveller, are not considered of the same importance in Vienna as in London. When a stranger has been properly introduced into a family, he usually receives a general invitation, of which he is expected to avail himself. Accordingly he calls in the evening; and if the lady of the house or any of the family be at home, he is admitted, and then, as it happens, meets others, or is the only visitor. Easy conversation or cards, music and tea, chess or enigmas, fill up the evening; or if the party be numerous, dances and refreshments, the rehearsal of poetry, or other exercises of mind or body, enliven the visit and dispel the unpleasant restraints of society.
The evening amusements in Germany are very various, and sometimes almost fall under the denomination of puerile. Not content with requesting young ladies to recite verses, they will sometimes invert the natural order of things and compel children to act plays, while grown people will play cross-questions and crooked answers; or standing in a circle, and holding a cord in their hands, pass a ring from one to the other, while some one of the party is required to discover in whose possession it is to be found.
Acting riddles is a favourite game, and one which is well calculated to amuse those who are wisely resolved to be amused when they can. A certain portion of the company retire into an adjoining room, where they concert together how best to represent by action the different syllables which compose a word, and the meaning of the whole word. They presently return, and carrying on their preconcerted action, require the company to resolve the riddle. Thus, for instance, on one occasion the word determined upon was Jumeaux. Some of the actors, coming from their retirement, began to squeeze a lemon into a glass, calling the attention of the company very particularly to it by their action, thus representing Ju. Others came forward imitating the various maladies and misfortunes of life, thus acting the syllable of meaux. Then finally tottered into the circle an Italian duke and a Prussian general, neither less than six feet in height, dressed in sheets and leading-strings, a fine bouncing emblem of Jumeaux.
Dinner-parties, though not the regular every day amusements of life in Vienna, are not uncommon. There is much similarity in the style of dinners throughout Germany, and it has some points of peculiar excellence. The table is generally round or oval; so that each guest has means of intercourse with the whole party, even when it is large. It is covered for the greater part with a tasteful display of sweets or fruits; two places only being left near the middle for the substantial dishes. Each person is provided with a black bottle of light wine, and every cover, even at a table d’hote, is furnished with a napkin and silver forks. The first dishes which occupy the vacant spaces are always soups; they are quickly removed to the side-tables and distributed by the servants. In the mean time, the next dish is placed upon the table, taken off, carved, and carried round to the guests in precisely the same manner; and so on till every thing has been served. The plates are carefully changed, but the knives and forks very generally remain throughout the greater part of the dinner, or, at best, are only wiped and returned. The dishes are so numerous and the variety so great, that, as every body eats a little of every thing, they seldom take twice of the same.
The succession of luxuries is not exactly as with us. An Englishman is somewhat surprised to see a joint of meat followed by a fish, or a savoury dish usurp the place of one that was sweet. To conclude the ceremony, each servant takes one of the sweetmeat ornaments off the table, and carries it, as he has done with the other dishes, to all the guests.
During all this time the conversation is general and lively, and beyond a doubt much more interesting than that which is heard on similar occasions and in similar society in England, where its current is perpetually interrupted by the attention which every one is bound to pay to the wants and wishes of persons at the most distant part of the table. While the sweetmeats are served, a few glasses of some superior kinds of wine, which have likewise been distributed at intervals during the dinner, are carried round; and then the company, both ladies and gentlemen, rise at the same time by a kind of mutual consent, which, as the rooms are seldom carpeted, occasions no inconsiderable noise. To this succeeds a general bowing and compliment from every one to each of the company individually, each hoping that the other has eaten a good dinner. This peculiar phrase is precisely the counterpart of another always employed on the parting of friends about mid-day, each expressing a sincere hope that the other will eat a hearty dinner. This is the most usual form of civility in Vienna.
The party then adjourns to another apartment, where coffee is served and where it is frequently joined by other visitors, chiefly men, who come without particular invitation, to pay their respects or to converse on business, in the manner of a morning call, and who prolong their stay as the movements of the first party indicate: for an invitation to dinner by no means necessarily implies that you are to spend the evening or any part of it at the house or that the family has no other engagement as soon as dinner is concluded and the guests have taken their coffee and liquors.
As the dinner is early, being always between twelve and five, the remainder of the evening is employed in various pursuits. A drive in the Prater or to some place of public resort, a visit to the theatre, or a succession of the calls just described, employ the evening; or, if the dinner has been very early, the party resumes the occupations and business of the day.
The time and duration of the performances at the theatres are very convenient. They begin about six and conclude a little after nine. The greatest decorum prevails during the representation, the police-military, that is police-officers, in a particular kind of livery and wearing swords, being stationed in all the avenues. Thus a person going with a wish to hear the play is not disappointed by those brawls which scarcely ever fail to interrupt the performance in our English theatres; nor is there any part of the house to which a party of the most delicate females might not resort with the greatest propriety.
The theatrical performances are continued throughout the whole year, with the exception of the days prohibited by the Catholic calendar, on many of which, however, concerts, public rehearsals, and a species of exhibition called a Tableau are permitted. The latter amusement, being scarcely known in this country, requires some notice.
The object of these exhibitions is, to represent by groups of living figures the compositions of celebrated sculptors or painters. With this view that part of the apartment or theatre, beyond which the Tableau is to be placed, is darkened, and on raising a curtain, the figures are discovered dressed in the costume which the painter has given them, and firmly fixed in the attitude prescribed by his pencil. The light is skilfully introduced and other objects arranged so as to give as nearly as possible the effect of the original painting. After some time the curtain drops to give the performers time to rest, and to relieve themselves from the painful attitudes which they are frequently obliged to preserve; and the curtain again drawn up discovers them still in their characteristic postures. When the spectators are supposed to be satisfied with one picture another is introduced, and thus several are exhibited in succession. This generally forms only part of the evening’s amusement, and is either accompanied by a theatrical performance, or if in private by dancing or music.
An interesting variety of this entertainment was witnessed by Dr. Bright. In the midst of a brilliant assembly, the folding-doors of another room were suddenly thrown open, and what appeared to be a beautiful collection of wax-figures was displayed to the delighted eye. They were placed on pedestals, in recesses, or in groups around the room. They represented heathen deities, or the gnomes and fairies with which the poets have peopled the regions of imagination, with all their emblematical accompaniments, and their dresses, which were selected with the greatest taste. These figures were represented by persons whom nature had favoured in a distinguished manner; they preserved an unmoved firmness of attitude, and nothing interrupted the illusion they intended to create but the animation of their eyes, and the smile which sometimes dimpled the cheek even of the rooted Daphne. To assert that this exhibition was beautiful were to degrade its charms; it seemed to throw a magic spell over the spectators, and the great difficulty was to induce them to retire when it was actually necessary to relieve the figures from the painful position in which they stood.
The houses of Vienna are in general rather small than large; the palaces of the grandees alone being spacious. Most of the houses are of brick or wood covered with slate, and some with shingles. As a measure of precaution, however, the police forbids the use of the latter; so that whenever a house is repaired it must be roofed with slate or tiles. The houses in the city only are from four to six stories high: those of the suburbs occupy more ground but are not so lofty. Here the mansions of the great, of very simple and sometimes very whimsical architecture, have handsome gardens attached to them. The interior is not so commodiously arranged as it might be. The walls are more commonly painted in fresco than papered. The furniture is not in general costly, excepting in the palaces of princes or the mansions of bankers or wealthy merchants, whose opulence enables them to command all the elegances as well as the conveniences of life. Simplicity, neatness and perfect cleanliness, which are far to be preferred to tawdry magnificence, are every where observable.
Fire-places are almost unknown in the private houses of Vienna, and a stranger is surprised not to find any even in the kitchens.
Vienna is composed of two distinct parts, the city properly so called and the suburbs, the latter being separated from the former by large ditches and high walls. The total population is about 225,000 souls. It is at present on the increase, in consequence of the important advantages derived by Austria from the late wars. This city, however, is not a healthy residence, notwithstanding the high winds which usually prevail there, and which tend to promote salubrity. Instances of longevity are much more rare in this than in other capitals. In general the mortality is as one to fifteen annually, which is nearly three times as great as that of the British metropolis. Though this effect may be partly owing to the attachment to the pleasures of the table for which the people of Vienna are proverbial, yet, it must also be in part ascribed to the climate, which is extremely variable, frequently changing in the course of few hours from the extreme of heat to that of cold, and the air, unless ventilated daily by a breeze about two hours before noon is said to become pestilential. The spring water also is insalubrious, being apt to occasion bowel complaints to strangers; and the water of the Danube is so thick and muddy that it cannot be drunk unless filtered.
The numerous benevolent institutions in Vienna and the comforts enjoyed by the lower classes seem to argue that this great mortality is owing rather to the climate than to any other cause. The humane mind is not here shocked by the appearance of that squalid misery which excites as much disgust as pity, and the number of mendicants with which most other large cities are infested. But if the lower classes here are better off than in some other countries, it is chiefly owing to their superior morality and good conduct, which secure them from indigence and want.
The shops of Vienna are not decorated with that profusion and luxury which are displayed in those of London and Paris. They are neat and simple; and though they may contain a considerable variety of goods, yet frequently a square glazed case of patterns hanging at the door is the only mark by which the nature of a shopkeeper’s dealings is estimated. The shops, therefore, contribute but little to the embellishment of the streets in which they are situated.
The streets of the city properly so called are paved with a light gray sienite brought from Hungary and Bohemia, or with a very hard species of granite furnished by the mountains of Upper Austria. Both these species of stone are susceptible of a high polish, and they are wrought into a variety of ornamental articles, particularly snuff-boxes. The streets of the suburbs, being unpaved, are in winter almost impassable on account of the mud, and not the most pleasant in summer, owing to the clouds of dust raised by the winds which sweep through them.
Vienna possesses the advantage of being traversed in all directions by subterraneous canals, which run into the Danube, and into which all the impurities of the city are carried by regular drains and sewers. It is well lighted at night, when a horse and foot patrole are employed to protect the lives and properties of the citizens, a duty in which they are ably seconded by the fire-watch, chiefly consisting of invalid soldiers, who are not capable of active military service. Armed with long staves, they walk through the streets of Vienna, crying the hour, and at twelve o’clock adding, put out your fires and shut your doors! A hat of tin slouched behind and turned up before, covers the head, and that the wearer may be known again, it is marked with a particular number or letters. In this manner it is easy to ascertain any individual who may have neglected his duty or exceeded his orders. A loose drab coat is also marked by a number. Pantaloons, boots or gaiters according to the season, a leathern apron, and a leathern bucket, slung behind to be ready in case of fire, complete the costume of one of these watchmen.
The inhabitants of the villages surrounding Vienna have nearly the same manners and costume as those of the capital following similar professions. The remark is equally applicable to the people of Upper Austria. Among the peasantry in both, the men universally wear low broad-brimmed hats, as a protection both from rain and sun, and a kind of half-boots. The breeches, usually of a dark colour, are suspended by coloured braces put on over the waistcoat, and a broad belt encircles the waist. A jacket of dark-coloured cloth covers all; a black handkerchief is worn round the neck, and the stockings are blue, a colour for which these people appear to have a predilection.
The handkerchief which covers the head and over which the hat is put, is a peculiarity in the costume of the women of these provinces.
CHAPTER VI.
STYRIA.
COSTUME OF THE INHABITANTS—THE JOANNÆUM AT GRATZ.
In Styria the costume of both sexes is singular. The head-dress of the women of its capital, Grätz, and the neighbouring villages, such as maid-servants and daughters of inferior tradesmen or small farmers, generally consists of a cap of heavy gold lace, in the shape of a helmet, not unlike that worn by women of the same class in Vienna. In their forms these caps vary a little, the sides being frequently very broad, and opening wide backward almost in the manner of a butterfly’s wings. The gold is often richly varied with alternate stripes of embossed silver lace, or with embroidered figures: others wear a cap of the same form, made of black silk and lace, while others again have the black silk richly worked with flowers.
Most of the female peasants in the surrounding country wear broad hats of light coloured felt, nearly resembling those of Holland in shape, and like them lined with linen, which is brought over to cover half of the upper surface of the brim. This lining is generally of some dark colour. All wear double handkerchiefs about the neck and shoulders, and a tight bodice of some gay colour cut low in the back, with a triangular false cape running in a point nearly to the waist.
The countrymen likewise wear broad hats encircled by a ribbon or a wide gold lace; a coloured silk handkerchief about the neck, and a fancy waistcoat, with ornamented braces on the outside, by which the dark-coloured breeches are suspended. Their stockings are blue, and they wear neat half-boots lacing before in a point. On week-days they have jackets, but on holidays wear long frock coats of some dark cloth, generally green, and ornamented with many large shining buttons.
We cannot quit this province without directing the the attention of the reader to an institution of recent establishment, which Dr. Bright pronounces to be the most interesting at Grätz; this is the Joannæum, which takes its name from the archduke John, its founder. This prince, who has distinguished himself by his love of knowledge perhaps above any prince in Europe, and who is truly worthy of the high situation in which his birth has placed him, and of the estimable imperial family of which he forms a part, had pursued with unceasing assiduity an investigation into the resources both natural and political of Styria. He had himself surveyed every romantic scene, gathered every mountain flower, estimated the capability of every rich valley, and drawn his conclusions as to what was excellent and what still remained to be improved; and wishing to make the stores he had collected and the information he had gained of substantial use to the country, he determined to present his valuable collections and library to the inhabitants of the capital, that they might afford the means of instruction to the people, and prove an encouragement to further research. The Archduke accordingly gave the whole of this treasure, consisting of an herbal which contained fourteen thousand specimens, and a large store of minerals, an extensive library, philosophical instruments and manufactured produce to the town of Grätz. These were deposited in a large building, formerly a private house, purchased for the purpose, and in the course of a year or two lectures on chemistry, botany, mineralogy, astronomy and manufactures, were established; a reading room was likewise opened and supplied with above fifty different periodical scientific publications. The example of the Archduke soon induced several other persons to contribute towards completing so desirable an object; and among other liberal contributors, Count von Egger presented his library and a valuable cabinet of natural history.
At this institution lectures are given on mineralogy, botany and chemistry, astronomy, mechanics and the means of resuscitating persons apparently drowned. This last course of lectures has lately been appointed to be held in all the institutions for the higher branches of education in the Austrian dominions, and is frequently delivered on Sunday. Although the Joannæum was originally quite unconnected with the public education of the country, the students of medicine have lately been permitted to avail themselves of certificates from the professors, to forward their claims to academic honours at Vienna.
CHAPTER VII.
BOHEMIA.
COSTUMES OF THE BOHEMIANS.
The name of Bohemia is derived from that of the Boji, a Celtic nation which inhabited this country at the period to which the earliest historical records of it relate. Notwithstanding the numerous resources possessed by the inhabitants in the fertility of the soil, in the mines, the forests and the different manufactures established in the course of the last century, the country is not very flourishing. The peasantry being reduced to the state of serfs, the apathy and indolence consequent on servitude, cause Bohemia to swarm with mendicants and vagabonds.
Among these are a great number of gipsies, who in some parts of Europe are erroneously denominated Bohemians.
The costumes of Bohemia differ considerably from those of Austria, properly so called. The annexed engraving represents a young peasant of the environs of Egra. These are a handsome race of men, with fine open countenances.
Their dress combines simplicity and elegance. Wide trowsers in the Turkish fashion, reaching to the middle of the leg, contrast by their dark colour as well as by their amplitude, with the short, tight waistcoats. The under-waistcoat, or rather a sort of stomacher, which is left uncovered by the two open upper waistcoats, is the article of their dress in regard to which they are most particular.
In winter these villagers wear over all a long brown cloth surtout. The hat has a broad brim and a low crown, round which is tied a coloured ribbon. From their earliest childhood they are habituated to smoking, and they are seldom seen without pipes in their mouths, especially in winter.
PEASANT of EGRA IN WINTER DRESS.
The wives and daughters of peasants in general employ dark-coloured stuffs only for their apparel. In cold weather they wear a cap of fur, or of woollen, round which a muslin handkerchief is tied behind. Their stockings are of a dark colour; the shoes are black with red heels: the quarters are bordered with a piece of the latter colour, which turns down over the instep.
The principal piece of finery in the dress of these women is the girdle, in which they are particularly studious of elegance and richness. It fastens both before and behind, and from the middle hangs a broad band of the same material and similarly ornamented, which passes in a semicircle sometimes to the right, at others to the left.
The wedding apparel of the young female peasants of this part of Bohemia is remarkable. Everywhere else a wedding is an occasion of rejoicing and gaiety not only to the new-married couple, but also to such of their relations and friends as are invited. Not so at Egra. There the bride would be deemed guilty of an act of unpardonable indecorum, if she were to appear in a white dress, or to give additional splendour to her apparel by pearls, jewels, or laces. Marriage, being considered in this country as the most important and solemn act of life, is celebrated with the utmost gravity. Every thing, therefore, that bears the resemblance of ostentation is avoided: the bride is attired in her usual black dress, to which is added a cloak of the same colour, reaching to the knees and not unlike that used in the rest of Europe at funerals. She holds in one hand a rosary, and in the other a veil which is to cover her during the ceremony; and in the most modest and devout attitude she proceeds to the church.
In summer the inhabitants of these parts go very lightly clothed. The men have but one open waistcoat, which leaves the bosom exposed; the women wear a corset without sleeves, a petticoat, a blue apron and a handkerchief of the same colour about the neck. The head is covered with a white handkerchief, which is tied behind.
CHAPTER VIII.
MORAVIA.
COSTUMES OF THE INHABITANTS—ACCOUNT OF THE HAUNACKS—PEASANTS OF THE FRONTIERS.
The costume of the inhabitants of Moravia resembles more or less that of the people of the contiguous countries. In the centre of the province the men generally wear jacket, waistcoat, and pantaloons of one colour, hussar boots, and a hat, the broad brim of which is cocked behind and slouched before.
The women dress nearly in the style of the Austrian peasants, but in winter they wear over the laced corset and gown a sort of hussar jacket of cloth bordered with fur, while gaiters or boots defend their feet and legs from cold and damp.
Near Olmütz there is a small tract of country, extending about five square German miles, and inhabited by a tribe of people called Haunacks, or Haunachians, who are supposed by the native statistical writers to be the pure descendants of the aboriginal inhabitants of Moravia. They derive their name from the small river Hauna. Their history is rather obscure, but they are undoubtedly a Slavonic tribe.
In stature they are short, but strong and muscular; and being simple, temperate, and plain in their habits, they attain in general a very advanced age. By the neighbouring Germans they are reproached as being slothful and averse to bodily labour; while they themselves boast of the fertility of their soil, and look down with contempt upon the other inhabitants of Moravia as an inferior set of beings, to whom nature has been more niggardly of her gifts. Their mode of living is frugal and highly primitive. The flesh of the hog joined with hasty-pudding is their favourite viand, and beer their only beverage.
The young women are remarkable for the grace and elegance of their forms, and the neat adjustment of their dresses, which are extremely picturesque and show off to great advantage the considerable share of personal beauty with which the wearers are gifted. Their summer dress consists of a large white linen cap, the lappets of which, bordered with lace and embroidered with red silk, fall over their shoulders. Their long hair is suffered to float in tresses; or, when the cap is laid aside, is gracefully twisted and tied over the head with knots of ribbons. A coloured corset, laced before shows the shape to advantage. Their well turned ankles are set off with white or red stockings, and black shoes with red heels.
PEASANT of the MOUNTAINS of MORAVIA.
The dress of the men consists of a round hat adorned with ribbons of various colours; a waistcoat commonly green, embroidered with red silk, encompassed by a broad leathern girdle, with brown pantaloons attached to the vest by means of large buckles; and boots. This is their summer costume, but in winter they cover the head with a large and singularly shaped fur cap, and throw over their shoulders an undressed sheep or wolf-skin, in the absence of which they wear a brown woollen cloak with a large hood, like that of a Capuchin Friar.
On the frontiers of Hungary the costume of the peasant of Moravia partakes of the style of dress usual in the former country. A broad-brimmed, low-crowned hat covers his head; the short coat, which in shape resembles the surcoat of the ancient knights, is girt round the waist by a leathern girdle: and he carries his bundle slung behind him from a shoulder-belt. He wears tight pantaloons, and stockings, round which are twisted the strings that fasten his sandals, as represented in the engraving.
CHAPTER IX.
THE TYROL.
MIGRATIONS OF THE TYROLESE—THEIR FRANKNESS—THEIR ATTACHMENT TO THE HOUSE OF AUSTRIA—ANECDOTE OF THE ARCHDUCHESS ELIZABETH—LITERARY TURN OF THE TYROLESE—THEIR EXTRAORDINARY HONESTY—FONDNESS FOR PUGILISTIC EXERCISES AND THE CHASE—ANCIENT PRACTICE—MORAL CHARACTER—SUPERSTITION—MECHANICAL GENIUS—PERSONS AND COSTUMES—NATIONAL SONGS—CUSTOM OF VISITING THE GRAVES OF RELATIONS—MARRIAGE CEREMONIES OF THE TYROLESE.
The most striking feature in the character of the Tyrolese is their love of independence and their attachment to their native land. The intense cold, however, that prevails in the elevated valleys, in general compels their inhabitants to quit them in winter, when they repair to the neighbouring towns to pursue their different professions. Thus villages, nay even whole valleys are at times nearly deserted, except by the aged men, the women and the children. At stated periods, therefore, these mountaineers emigrate in bodies of thirty or forty, and spread themselves over Italy, Bavaria, and Austria. Some of them become excellent carpenters, others skilful smiths, and it is seldom that they do not follow more than one trade. They are particularly addicted to the mechanical arts. The young lads hire themselves to tend cattle. On the return of summer and the approach of harvest-time, these mountaineers set out for their respective hamlets, joyfully carrying with them their little savings. They collect in companies and march to the sound of the bagpipe, which at a distance announces their coming. All run out to meet them, and they rarely pass through a village without being supplied with refreshments. In this manner they travel forward till they reach their humble homes, where they forget their hardships and fatigues in the affectionate embraces of their wives, children and relations.
The industry of the Tyrolese does not suffer them to be content with these migrations occasioned by the inclemency of the climate. They travel all over Germany with aromatic and medicinal plants, carpets, gloves, chamois-skins, steel trinkets, or wooden wares carved with the utmost delicacy. These commodities they carry chiefly to Vienna, being encouraged by the favourable reception given to them by the inhabitants, who are delighted with their frankness and good humour. The Tyrolese always speak what they think without reserve or disguise. Like our Quakers they address every one, not excepting the emperor himself, in the second person singular; and they question the sovereign without the least ceremony respecting his intentions in regard to their country. When these plans do not harmonize with their ideas, they censure them with the utmost freedom. There have been instances of their carrying their complaints to the foot of the throne, and remonstrating with a liberty which to courtiers must appear very extraordinary.
To the honour of the sovereigns of the house of Austria, it must be confessed that any of their subjects may obtain a private audience of them with less difficulty than in other states an interview can be gained with a minister. If I were to select, says a British traveller, from among the eulogies which have been passed on monarchs, the most glowing traits, assisted by the warmest efforts of imagination, I might not, perhaps make a deeper impression upon the mind of the reader, than by the simple recital of the fact, that it is the habit of the Austrian ruler to admit into his presence and to personal interview every individual of his realm. One day in every week is devoted to this sacred duty; when the emperor, with the first dawning of the morning, attends in a private apartment to receive petitions and complaints from the mouths of even the poorest of his subjects. He listens to them freely, and though he seldom judges finally at the moment, shows his sympathy and declares his feeling in their behalf.
The known frankness and intrepidity of the Tyrolese induced Austria to grant them great liberty. Never, indeed, was government more paternal than that of Austria in regard to the Tyrol. Hence all the inhabitants went into mourning when the fortune of war transferred them a few years since to another power, which, by its ill-judged measures, only strengthened their attachment to their former sovereign. The struggle which they made in his behalf against the united force of France and Bavaria shows what exertions a nation fighting for independence is capable of making, and will occupy a conspicuous place in the history of those wars which have lately distracted Europe. The general peace which put an end to these hostilities, crowned the wishes of the faithful Tyrolese, and replaced them under the Austrian sceptre.
As the most trivial circumstances frequently impart a clearer insight into the character of an individual or a nation than those of more importance, the following authentic anecdote may be worth recording. The archduchess Elizabeth, aunt to the present emperor of Austria, who was so much beloved that the people of Vienna always called her Unsere Liese, (Our Bess) took a particular fancy to milk with her own hands the beautiful cows which she had collected at Schönbrunn. She had heard the Tyrolese highly extolled for their skill and cleverness in this operation, and therefore had several herdsmen brought from the Tyrol, that they might instruct her in the milking and general management of cattle. The first who arrived, seeing the princess engaged in milking her cows, gazed at her in silence for a few moments, and then burst out into the exclamation: “Get thee gone, thou awkward baggage! why, thou wouldst not earn salt to thy porridge!” After he had thus politely driven away the princess, he fell to work and milked the whole herd in less time than the archduchess would have done a single cow. During the course of this extraordinary instruction, these men never could be persuaded to soften their language or to use less frankness in their expressions. So far, however, from displeasing by their freedom, they had some difficulty to obtain permission to return to their native mountains.
The Tyrolese who travel into Germany, to carry on a little traffic in drugs and peltry, have in general several partners. At any rate the husband never goes without his wife, nor the brother without his sister. It is very rarely that a man is seen by himself disposing of his commodities. They have not failed to observe that the costume of their women excites the curiosity of strangers, and they judiciously avail themselves of it that they may find a better market for their merchandise. When they settle at Vienna, almost all of them adopt the trades of carpenter or mason.
A singular fact, and which serves to show the natural bent of this nation, is, that there is scarcely a Tyrolese peasant but has his library, however small. Though it contains perhaps no more than thirty or forty volumes, still it affords proof of a fondness for study. The Bible, the Lives of the Saints, a history of their country, or of Austria, together with a few geographical works, compose the generality of these rustic libraries. So strong is their hankering for news, that many of those in easy circumstances take in the Inspruck newspaper; which, in the long winter evenings, furnishes them with subjects for discussion and comments, in which their own country is not forgotten.
Theft and robbery are so uncommon in Tyrol, that locks are almost unknown, at least in the villages. The doors of their habitations have no other guard than the mutual integrity of the inmates. The peasants therefore have merely a latch, which is raised by means of a bit of packthread, and this method of closing the entrance to their cottages is adopted solely to keep the cattle out of them. A hundred times, says a traveller, have I stopped at inns where there was no key whatever, and yet I never lost any thing. At Vienna, and in other parts of Germany also, the Tyrolese bear the highest character for honesty and integrity, and there is no instance of any of them having abused the confidence reposed in him.
Such is their respect for the memory of deceased relatives and friends, that they scarcely ever go out of mourning for them. A person who should violate this custom would be considered as degenerate. It is not uncommon to see a widow wear mourning all her life for her husband, or a daughter for a mother. If this practice attests the excellence of their hearts, the mourning assumed by them on account of the misfortunes which befall their country equally proves the ardour of their patriotism. When I visited the Tyrol, says a French traveller, after the war in 1809, I asked a peasant why the people were all in mourning. “Look at our towns,” replied he, “you see that they are in ashes; and can you still ask why we are in mourning?” A nation endowed with such qualities, cannot fail to be deeply interesting to every enlightened mind and to every generous heart.
The Tyrolese peasants are mostly robust, and attach more value to vigour of body than to beauty of form. From their infancy they addict themselves to exercises best calculated to increase the strength and suppleness of their limbs. Some, after the example of the ancient Greeks, are professed wrestlers, and pursue the exercise with such ardour, that if they were to neglect it for some time their health would suffer. Hence they seldom pass a week without challenging other champions, and they will go many miles either to be actors in, or witnesses of such matches.
Pugilistic exercises have in consequence become an amusement inseparable from rustic weddings, fairs and parish festivals. They were formerly frequent in the vicinity of Inspruck, the capital of the country; but the police took advantage of the quarrels which they occasioned, to apprehend the combatants and force them to enlist in the army for life: so that it is only in the remote districts that they can indulge without fear in their favourite diversion.
The dress of the Tyrolese wrestlers is nearly the same as that of the other villagers, excepting that they never wear either collar or cravat, to deprive their adversaries of the advantage of seizing them by that part of the dress. The rest of their clothes, indeed, affords abundant scope for laying hold, as they have not yet adopted the practice of oiling their bodies like the combatants of Greece at the Olympic games.
These men have an extremely shrill war-cry, and are known by the cock’s feathers in their hats, the number of which always corresponds with that of the victories they have won. In regard to this point they could not easily practise deception; for the man who should set up a claim in contradiction to public notoriety, would become an object of derision, and pay dearly for his usurped finery.
TYROLESE HUNTER.
We are not exactly informed of the use of the thick pewter ring which they wear on the little finger of the right hand, and which they call the ring of combat. It is not considered fair for these wrestlers to grasp their adversary with their hands; they strive to make him lose his balance, to throw him down, and then snatch from him the feathers which he has won in preceding contests. In the intervals of rest they are furnished with a pipe, which they regard as an infallible medium for recruiting their strength.
The chase is another amusement to which the Tyrolese are passionately attached, and which they pursue from their earliest infancy. Each village has a spot set apart for firing at a mark; and here boys begin to practise as soon as they can hold a gun.
The hunting of the chamois, which is indisputably the most arduous and difficult species of sport, since that animal frequents only the highest mountains, is what the Tyrolese takes most delight in. Lightly clad, having a large green hat to screen him from the sun, his gun slung at his back or in his hand, and equipped in the manner represented in the opposite plate, he traverses the deepest valleys and climbs the most rugged mountains. Here he frequently passes several successive days. A stick, terminating with an iron spike, is indispensably necessary for supporting him on the steep acclivities of the mountains. His game-bag, covered with velvet, serves him for a pillow at night; it contains some provision, a small speaking-trumpet, and a couple of cramp-irons to assist him in climbing perpendicular rocks. Some of these men have been known to cut their feet on purpose that the blood from the wounds might cover the smooth surface of the rocks and prevent their slipping.
A very interesting custom formerly existed in the Tyrol. The wealthiest of the peasants advanced to such young men as appeared to be most industrious, active, and intelligent, a sum of money, to be laid out in the productions of the country, and which were to be sold or exchanged for foreign commodities. Sometimes the fulfilment of these commissions required a voyage beyond sea. The agent, having procured his goods, set out furnished with every thing calculated to ensure the success of the enterprise. Having disposed of his merchandise, he returned home, called together his employers, and delivered to them the proceeds of the goods with which he had been entrusted. Each took up the sum he had contributed, and the overplus belonged to the young factor. This practice, now unfortunately fallen into disuse, affords a strong proof of the integrity of these honest mountaineers.
The Tyrolese has in general all the art of a man experienced in the ways of the world, with the simplicity of a child, and in consequence, perhaps, of the injuries done to him by foreign nations, he is become more mistrustful. Still he will never commit a base action out of resentment: his soul is too proud and too elevated to employ such disgraceful means. If he attacks, it is always openly. Courageous and persevering, he spares no exertion to attain his aim. Great in adversity, he is not cast down by it; prosperity always finds him proof against its dangerous illusions: his country and her independence are all that he prizes. He cannot regret wealth, for he possesses it not: he is a stranger to pleasures, excepting those that arise from the relation of husband and father: hardships do not affect his robust frame, accustomed to all sorts of privations, and inured to the inclemency of winter. Thus from his earliest youth he climbs the glaciers barefoot, and that he may be the more unrestrained in his motions, he never covers his knees with any garment. Finally, the first sports of his childhood consist in gliding from the tops of the mountains in light sledges: an amusement which, were he less expert, would expose his life a thousand times to the most imminent danger.
These people, so kind and so hospitable to the unarmed stranger, or to him who needs their protection, are most formidable to the invader of their country, or the violator of their ancient institutions. Bold and skilful marksmen, accustomed to the use of arms and to the chase, they soon become excellent soldiers, whose address is equal to their courage. It must be confessed, however, that as regular troops, the Tyrolese display greater bravery on the mountains than in the plains, where they imagine that they have not the same advantages.
Faithful husbands and tender fathers, the Tyrolese have in general a warm affection for their families: and lawsuits, or quarrels respecting property, seldom disturb the harmony that prevails among them. The simplicity of their manners is as remarkable as that of their character, and a spirit of religion contributes not a little to keep it up. Their devotion may sometimes go to the length of superstition, but never to that of fanaticism. Besides, it cannot prove dangerous, since it is confined to the belief in the existence of spirits and malignant genii. This belief is chiefly current among the peasantry of the elevated districts; hence the village girls dare scarcely go abroad after dark for fear of falling into snares laid for them by mischievous spirits. There is no sound, even to the rustling of the leaves of the trees, shaken by the evening breeze, but proclaims to their exalted imaginations the presence of ghosts. Thus their superstitious notions animate all nature. To protect themselves from the power of these imaginary beings, many Tyrolese of both sexes engrave the figure of Christ, or of some saint upon their flesh, by pricking it with a needle and rubbing gunpowder into the punctures; and this they consider as a permanent safeguard. Some, however, who are more enlightened or less credulous, adopt these figures merely by way of ornament, a practice similar to the tattowing common among most of the South Sea islanders.
The active and lively disposition of the Tyrolese urges them to imitate whatever they see. It may almost be said that they become mechanics by intuition; at any rate, no sooner do they experience the want of any instrument, than they set about making it, and though, perhaps, rude and clumsy, it always answers the purpose for which it was designed. Thus at their summer habitations on the mountains, however elevated their situation, you find small hydraulic machines, which work the stones required by the herdsmen to sharpen their implements, or to grind the corn necessary for their subsistence. Sometimes they connect a moving wheel with the piston used in churning. In another place you see a cradle rocked with a motion the more gentle as it is produced by a fall of water moderated with art. In short, a stranger who visits their country, perceives, at every step, the extraordinary turn of these people for the mechanical arts.
In addition to the instances of ingenuity mentioned above, it is not uncommon to find in the valleys of the Tyrol, painters, makers of musical instruments, and other machinery, who, without any instruction whatever, have produced truly astonishing things. There are peasants who, in the long winter evenings, have constructed piano-fortes, rather complicated instruments, and that merely from the notion acquired by a short examination of one. Neither should it be forgotten that the first good map of the country, which it is so difficult to survey, was produced by a native of the mountains of Tyrol, Peter Anich, a herdsman.
Considered merely with reference to their persons, the Tyrolese are remarkable people. An expressive and animated countenance, bright piercing eyes, and a tall robust figure, are the principal characteristics by which they are distinguished. Their step is rather heavy, owing to their habit of continually ascending mountains. Hard labour imparts strength and vigour to their limbs. Their hair, almost always of a light colour, falls in graceful locks over their shoulders. A certain air of dignity, which admirably becomes their masculine features, and their elegant costume, heighten the expression of their faces, and set off the beauty of their forms. The hat, commonly of straw, bordered with ribbons of different colours, and adorned in a picturesque manner with feathers, is worn covered with fine green silk by the single men, but generally black by such as are married. A short waistcoat and jacket fit tight upon the body. Broad braces, ornamented with figured work and crossing over the bosom, support, what in this case may justly be denominated small-clothes, since they seldom reach lower than the middle of the thigh. Stockings, either plaited or embroidered with silk of different colours, show off a handsome leg; and the shoes, equally light and elegant, are adorned with ribbons always of a different colour from themselves. Gold or silver buckles are sometimes worn in them.
Rarely unarmed, they are scarcely ever seen without a gun slung at their shoulder and a goat-skin knapsack. At once a military and an agricultural people, the Tyrolese are always ready to relinquish the plough and the herdsman’s staff for the musket. To give a more masculine character to the countenance, they shade the lips with long and thick mustaches; and in some districts let part of the beard grow, which gives a degree of fierceness and wildness to their look.
The females are rather fair than handsome: their persons are more remarkable for strength than elegance. In general of a serious disposition, their countenance, nay, their very smile, have a degree of gravity, so that the impression which they produce at first sight is by no means prepossessing. Their costume has frequently an elegance and a lightness that are extremely becoming. Green or black hats bordered with ribbons of different colours, and a velvet cap, compose their winter head-dress. In summer they let their long light tresses flow over their shoulders, or turn them up and fasten them at the back of the head with long pins. A corset laced before covers the bosom, and on this part of their dress they bestow particular pains, some decorating it with lace, and others working upon it a variety of designs in silk of different colours. Short petticoats, seldom reaching to the middle of the leg, are remarkable in general for their lively colours and their numerous plaits, which, however, are so disposed as not to hide the contours of the body. Stockings of a light colour, set off by embroidered clocks, have an elegant and graceful appearance.
In some of the mountainous districts, the women, in order to be the less encumbered in their laborious occupations, have adopted the use of drawers with such scanty petticoats as to fall considerably short of the knee. Out of mere singularity, they load their legs with stockings, so plaited, as to give them a clumsy appearance. These stockings, being too thick to be covered by shoes, have no feet, so that the ankles are left quite bare. This practice occasions swelling of the legs or pains in the feet; but nothing can induce them to relinquish it, such is the influence of habit among all the nations of the earth.
The colour of the dress of the Tyrolese is different in every valley. The women in the environs of Hall and Inspruck, in general wear gowns half black and half blue, which produce a singular effect. The head is covered with a very lofty pyramidal cap, commonly of quilted cotton, decorated with transverse stripes. In summer they exchange this awkward head-dress for an elegant hat, and leave the hair loose.
The young girls have a remarkably simple costume. A ribbon tied round the top of the head constitutes the only head-dress. The throat and upper part of the neck are uncovered; but a handkerchief of rose-coloured crape is fastened together over the bosom. A broad ribbon passing round the waist is tied behind. A white corset with sleeves, a short green petticoat, and scarlet worsted stockings complete the dress of these peasants.
The women of this part of the Tyrol have such a predilection for red and blue stockings, that they seldom wear them of any other colour. When these stockings are not plaited, they load them with embroidery and all sorts of whimsical figures. With the women, the stockings, corset and girdle, are the articles in which finery is particularly studied, as the hat, the waistcoat, and the braces are with the men.
The manners of the women of the Tyrol are gentle and sedate. Equally chaste wives and tender mothers, they devote themselves entirely to their household affairs and to the care of their children. Constant in their sentiments, the man whom they once love is the object of their everlasting affection. Kind to all around them, they are not shy at the appearance of a stranger. On the contrary, when he approaches their habitation the mother sends her daughters to meet the traveller, and with engaging modesty they offer him fruit and present him with flowers. When once introduced into the cottage, the whole family throngs around him; the most delicious milk assuages his thirst, while a dish of smoked meat is prepared to appease the hunger excited by the keen air of the mountains.
Naturally quick and hasty, the Tyrolese prosecutes with heart and soul whatever he takes in hand. His dances alone, by their irregularity and vivacity, sufficiently attest the vehemence of his character. The music which excites him to pleasure is so brisk, that he can scarcely follow the measure. In short, these people cannot do any thing in a cool and quiet manner: if they fight, it is with an ardour which never allows them to calculate the danger; and when they indulge in pleasure, they give themselves up to it entirely. Is the country in danger? mourning is in every heart, and arms are in every hand: their very apparel acquaints the stranger with their feelings and their thoughts.
The national songs of the Tyrolese likewise prove the violence of their passions. Always lively and gay, they frequently pass from low natural tones to the highest sharps. From the expressions of these songs, you may know that they belong to men wandering in vast solitudes, and whose strains, crossing deep valleys, excite the voices of the herdsmen on the opposite hills. It is to this wildness and irregularity that the national airs of the Tyrol owe the celebrity which they have acquired. What traveller, who has ever witnessed the sensations they produce, could hear them without emotion!
The same man whom we have seen pursuing with such ardour, the innocent pleasure of a rustic dance, listens to the truths of religion with such profound respect, that in the attitude of devotion you would not know him again, or be tempted to believe that he is animated alternately by two different spirits. But that you may be able to appreciate his sensibility, follow him when at the decline of day, he leads his family from his humble abode to the tombs of his forefathers. Bareheaded, with downcast eyes and the chaplet in his hand, he walks first as the monarch of the family. Sometimes, indeed, he leads by the hand the youngest of his boys, while the elder follow. After them appears the mother, covered with a veil and surrounded by her daughters, who learn from her that modesty is woman’s brightest ornament. On reaching the grave of the person whose loss they deplore, they all kneel down and pray for that eternal repose in behalf of the soul of their friend, which will one day be solicited for themselves. After a few short prayers, the eldest of the boys rises, and thrice sprinkles holy water on the grave; all then strew over it flowers mingled with their tears. A practice so general, and which is repeated every day, cannot but have a strong tendency to preserve the prevailing simplicity and purity of manners.
The marriage ceremonies of the Tyrolese are not less interesting. It is seldom that young people marry from motives of interest, or in consequence of previous arrangements between the parents. It is in their walks, or at their rural meetings, that they become acquainted. When mutually agreeable, they respectively promise faith and love, and give each other their hand in ratification of this first contract. This promise made in the utmost purity of heart satisfies the lovers. Never is the chaste damsel of the Tyrol known to repent the acknowledgment of her secret sentiments to him to whom she has avowed them, nor the latter to take an improper advantage of this confession.
When once engaged by mutual vows, the young people have nothing more to do than to acquaint their parents with the object of their choice. It is seldom that the latter throw any impediment in the way of the happiness of their children. The circumstances which too frequently oppose the union of families in our polished societies cannot exist among people who are content with the possession of a few head of cattle and a few acres of land, for which, moreover, they have to dispute with the snow on the mountains.
The lover, hurried away by his passion and his natural impetuosity, warmly extols the qualities of his mistress, and spares no pains to obtain from his parents an approval of the sentiments by which he is animated. The old folks, naturally more cool, seldom decide at once: but to satisfy themselves of the sincerity of their son’s attachment, they put it to the test in various ways. These trials differ with the age and character both of the son and of the father. Some send their sons into Switzerland, Bavaria, or Italy, with various productions of the country which they are to dispose of there, and to interest them in the success of the enterprise they give up to them all the profit. “Go,” say their parents, “earn thy wife. To be a good father, a man must be able to get bread for his children.”
Not less dutiful as a son than ardent as a lover, the young Tyrolese never opposes the commands of his parents. How painful soever it be to him to leave his mistress and his beloved mountains, he departs, but not till he has presented the idol of his heart with a pledge of his fidelity in the ribbons that adorned his hat. He, moreover, places in her bosom the flower which renews the memory of love, and which for that reason is named forget-me-not. The damsel gives him in return the girdle which encircles her waist, and in which she has secretly embroidered the initials of the name of the favoured youth. The most amorous swains do not quit the hamlet till they have played upon the rustic bagpipe some plaintive ditty, to which their mistress listens surrounded by her female companions, who are ever ready to share her sorrows.
Other fathers subject their sons to trials of shorter duration, sending them for a few months to the herdsmen’s huts on the high mountains. Here the youths tend the herds and flocks, and strive as much as possible to increase the produce from them by their management. They also gather bilberries and the leaves of the spike (valeriana celtica) which has such a delightful smell. These occupations render them robust, and habituate them to fatigue. The spike grows only on the tops of the second-rate mountains and on the steep sides of those which are crowned with snow. This aromatic plant is exported to the East, where its perfume is destined to delight the voluptuous inmates of the seraglio. The roots of the gentians also are collected on the mountains, and from these they extract the juice, which yields a spirit that is highly esteemed.
The wealthier Tyrolese have recourse to other means to assure themselves of the sincerity of the attachment of their sons. They take them out into companies where they are likely to meet young females worthy of their notice; but if the sight of fresh objects produces no change in their sentiments, the parents no longer withhold their consent.
The day on which the damsel’s hand is formally solicited, is a festival not only for the two families but for the whole hamlet. The Tyrolese in general regard each other as brothers. The father of the young man arrays himself in his best apparel. Laying aside the jacket suitable for working days only, he puts on a coat decorated with ribbons of various colours. By his dress and the pleasure that sparkles in his eyes, it is evident that he is going on a joyful errand. He takes with him his younger sons, who carry baskets in which his first presents are deposited. In one he places honeycombs, the fragrance of which is heightened by the sweet-smelling thyme and other aromatic Alpine plants, with which they are surrounded; and puts into another the finest fruits of the season, not forgetting some cakes made by a beloved daughter.
On reaching the damsel’s abode, the father is introduced by the uncle or the nearest relative. Here he finds the family of his future daughter-in-law assembled. All present rise and salute him. “Welcome, my friend!” says the head of the family to him. “What motive brings thee among us?”—“As thou art a father,” replies the visitor, “let me put a question to thy daughter.”—With these words he steps up to her, kisses her on the forehead, and thus addresses her: “God bless thee, lovely girl, who remindest me of the days of my youth. I have a son; he loves thee. Wilt thou make my declining years happy?”
The Tyrolese girls, equally modest and affectionate, can, it is said, rarely find words to answer this flattering question, so that their mothers are almost always obliged to be the interpreters of their sentiments. The lover is then introduced by a young companion: he enters, bringing the fruits of his industry and constancy, which he deposits at the feet of his new mother, whose affection he solicits. The kiss of peace assures him of the kindness of the parents by whom he is adopted, and the first salute granted by his mistress bespeaks the ardour of her love.
The young companions of the bride likewise receive a kiss from the bridegroom and wishes for their future happiness. The most intimate of her friends then conducts the bridegroom to his destined spouse and retires; on which the spokesman of the family rises and begins a long harangue on the good qualities of the young man. Though rarely listened to by the young folks, who have much to say to one another, he nevertheless relates with emphasis the various trials to which the bridegroom has been subjected, and concludes with congratulating the damsel on having inspired him with a passion so strong as to surmount them all.
The young females then sing stanzas suitable to the occasion, after which the company partake of a frugal repast consisting of bread, cheese, fresh butter, and goats’ or ewes’ milk, together with a few glasses of Meran or Brixen wine, or among the more opulent, of Hungarian wine. This repast being finished, the youths escort the bridegroom home with songs and the sound of the rustic flute. At dusk, the bridegroom serenades his beloved with a plaintive tune under her window, mingling the sounds of his voice with those of the bagpipe.
The wedding-day at length arrives, and gaiety pervades the hamlet. From the general rejoicing, a stranger would suppose all the inhabitants to belong to the same family. When the bride lives at a village remote from the residence of the bridegroom, the latter repairs thither, accompanied by a numerous party, demonstrating the harmony and brotherly love which prevail among the Tyrolese. To beguile the length of the way, the young lads stop now and then and join in the merry dance. On reaching the place of their destination, they repair to the abode of the bride, and while they enter, the musicians play the nuptial air. The music ceases, and the schoolmaster addresses a complimentary speech to the bride, who then delivers to the bridegroom the ribbons for his garters in token of his future authority. These ribbons the bridemaid attaches to his dress; he gives her a kiss, and, according to custom, she embraces him in return.
The procession then repairs to the church, headed by the musicians; next come the young men, and then the young women, who are followed by the bride and bridegroom. The former is dressed in white, with a nosegay of flowers selected by her lover in her bosom. She is placed on his right, and is attended by her bridemaid, as is the bridegroom by his man. Then come the parents and relations of the parties, whose serious looks and grave demeanour form a striking contrast with the wild mirth and frolicksome pranks of those who close the procession.
On reaching the church, a devout silence is observed by the whole assembly. The service begins, but before the priest pronounces the nuptial benediction, the young couple, falling on their knees before their parents, receive their blessing. On their return home, they are congratulated by their friends, who then partake of an entertainment provided for the occasion. When this is over, the head of the family rises, and after he has said grace, he offers up a prayer for the prosperity of the new-married couple; to give a still more solemn character to this pious ceremony, he pictures in glowing colours the virtues of their forefathers. Nor does he forget to pray for the parents whom death has snatched from them. The speaker resumes his seat, and when the tears of affection have ceased to flow, the cheerful songs of the young people awaken other emotions.
Impatient for the pleasures of the dance, the latter slip away by degrees to the meadow or the room prepared for dancing. How desirous soever the young couple may be to follow, they must not stir, till the father of the family taking hold of the bride and the mother of the bridegroom, conduct them to their companions. Here, seated side by side, they receive the congratulations of the young men, among whom the bride distributes flowers from a basket. By these flowers they prognosticate their future fortunes. If the honeysuckle or the Alpine lily falls to their share, they promise themselves extraordinary prosperity. The periwinkle and the rhododendrons betoken a happy, tranquil life; but the foxglove and the daphne are omens of misfortunes and afflictions. The young damsels then come to express their good wishes, and the bridegroom distributes among them ribbons, the different colours of which are in like manner supposed to indicate their future lot.
Next morning they do not fail to pay a visit to the young couple, because they attach great importance to the possession of a few flowers from the wreath that encircled the brow of the bride. To her greatest favourites she gives the pins which fastened the wreath, and these they regard as tokens that they shall be happily married themselves. Thus does hope reign among this people of brothers, and associate by propitious omens future happiness with present felicity.
CHAPTER X.
HUNGARY.
EXTENT—DIVISION—CONSTITUTION—VAST ESTATES OF THE MAGNATS—STATE OF THE PEASANTRY—THEIR INDOLENCE—THIEVISH DISPOSITION OF THE HERDSMEN—PUNISHMENTS—HUNGARIAN PRISON—GENERAL APPEARANCE OF THE PEASANTS AND THEIR HABITATIONS IN DIFFERENT COUNTIES—HORNED CATTLE—SHEEP—VILLAGE HERDSMEN—RAVAGES OF WOLVES—GRANARIES—COSTUMES.
The kingdom of Hungary, the superficial area of which exceeds four thousand German square miles, and which contains nearly nine millions of inhabitants, is a highly interesting country both in a geographical and a moral point of view. If the observer cannot help admiring the abundance and extraordinary variety of its natural productions, neither can he behold without astonishment the diversity of the races composing its population, and the differences which prevail in their manners, customs, and religion. The variety in costume is not less striking, as we shall hereafter have occasion to show.
Civil Hungary, Croatia and Slavonia, are divided into four districts comprehending fifty-two counties.
Hungary is an hereditary but limited monarchy, the crown of which has been held since 1527 by the house of Austria. The king possesses many important rights and prerogatives, but at the same time the rights and privileges of the Hungarian nobility also are numerous and extensive. The nobility alone are designated in the language of the state by the appellation of the Hungarian people, and they are distinguished in a peculiar manner from the nobles of all other European nations by the circumstance, that the grants of their privileges have suffered least from the changes of time, and that the characteristic features of these rights, now in the nineteenth century, approach nearer than any to those of the nobles in the days of the crusades.
This constitution bears a nearer resemblance to our own in its earlier periods, as it regards the king, the magnats or grandees, and the deputies in diet assembled, than that of any of the northern nations: yet it differs widely from it in all that relates to the lower order of the people, whose interests have been completely overlooked, and who are still in nearly the same state of villanage that prevailed in most parts of Europe during the feudal ages.
The country in general is parcelled out among the magnats, some of whom possess estates of immense extent. In considering a Hungarian property, says Dr. Bright, we must figure to ourselves a landed proprietor possessing ten, twenty or forty estates, distributed in different parts of the kingdom, reckoning his acres by hundreds of thousands, and the peasants upon his estates by numbers almost as great; we must remember that all this extent of land is cultivated, not by farmers, but by his own stewards and officers, who have not only to attend to the agricultural management of the land, but to direct to a certain extent the administration of justice among the people; we must farther bear in mind, that perhaps one-third of this extensive territory consists of the deepest forests, affording a retreat and shelter not only to beasts of prey, but to many lawless and desperate characters, who often defy for a great length of time the vigilance of the police—we shall then have some faint conception of the situation and duties of a Hungarian magnat.
The same writer, in his interesting Travels in Hungary, describes the singular manner in which land is possessed and distributed in this country. No man can possess land who is not a noble of Hungary: but as all the family of a nobleman are also noble, it is calculated that one out of every twenty-one individuals in the nation is of this class. The lands descend either entire to the eldest son, or are equally divided among the sons, or in some cases among the children of both sexes: so that many of the nobles become by these divisions extremely poor, and are obliged to discharge all the duties of the meanest peasant. If any of these nobles wish to sell an estate to a stranger, however high in rank, even to a noble of the Austrian empire, application must first be made to the surrounding proprietors to learn whether they wish to purchase at the stipulated price. If they decline, a stranger may purchase it for a period of thirty years, at the end of which time any branch of the family which sold it, however distantly related, may oblige the stranger to surrender his bargain. This system is carried so far, that in many cases though the purchaser be a Hungarian noble, the family of the former possessor can reclaim it after thirty years, on payment of the original price, together with expenses incurred in the buildings and improvements made during that period. The litigation, ill-will and evils of every kind to which such laws give rise are beyond calculation.
The peasants on these estates were formerly bound to perform indefinite services, on account of supposed grants and privileges, likewise little understood. The empress Maria Theresa put the whole under certain regulations, which left less arbitrary power in the hands of the lord. She fixed the quantity of land upon each estate which was to remain irrevocably in the possession of the peasantry, giving to each peasant his portion called a session, and defining the services which he should in return perform for his lord. The only points determined, however, were, the whole quantity of land assigned to the peasants; and the proportion between the quantity of land and the quantity of labour to be required for it. The individual peasants are not fixed to the soil, but may always be dismissed when the superior finds cause; nor is it of necessity that the son should succeed the father, though usually the case. The peasant has no absolute claim to a whole session; if the lord pleases he may give but half or a third of a session, but in this case he cannot require more than one-half or one-third of the labour. The quantity of land allotted to a whole session is fixed for each county. In the county of Neutra, for instance, it varies, according to the quality of the soil, from twenty to thirty joch, each equal to nearly an English statute acre and a half; and of these sixteen or twenty must be arable and the rest meadow.
The services required of the head of the family for the whole session are one hundred and four days’ labour during the year, if he work without cattle, or fifty-two days if he bring two horses or oxen, or four if necessary, with ploughs and carts. In this work he may either employ himself, or if he prefer and can afford it, may send a servant. Besides this he must give four fowls, a dozen eggs and a pound and a half of butter; and every thirty peasants must give one calf yearly. He must also pay a florin for his house; must cut and bring home a klafter of wood; must spin in his family six pounds of wool or hemp provided by the landlord; and among four peasants the proprietor claims what is called a long journey, that is, they must transport twenty centners, each one hundred pounds weight, the distance of two days’ journey out and home; and besides all this, they must pay one-tenth of all their products to the church, and one-ninth to the lord.
Such are the services owed by the peasant, and happy would he be were he subject to no other claims. Unfortunately, however, the peasant of Hungary has scarcely any political rights, and is considered by the government much more than by the landlord, in the light of a slave. By an unlimited extension of the aristocratical privilege, the noble is free from every burden, and the whole is accumulated on the peasant. The noble pays no tribute, and goes freely through the country, subject to neither tolls nor duties; but the peasant is liable to tribute, and though there may be some nominal restrictions to the services due from him to government, it may safely be asserted, that there is no limit in point of fact to the services which he is compelled to perform. Whatever public work is to be executed, not only when a road is to be repaired, but when new roads are to be made, or bridges built, the county-meeting gives the order and the peasant dares not refuse to execute it. All soldiers passing through the country are quartered exclusively upon the peasantry. They must provide them without recompense with bread, and furnish their horses with corn, and whenever required by a particular order, they must provide the person bringing it with horses and means of conveyance. Such an order is always employed by the officers of government, and whoever can in any way plead public business as the cause of his journey, takes care to provide himself with it. In all levies of soldiers, the whole falls upon the peasant, and the choice is left to the arbitrary discretion of the lord and his servants.
This system is not calculated to satisfy either the landlord or the peasant. The benefit derived by the latter is by no means proportionate to the sacrifice which the former is obliged to make. The quantity of land appropriated to the peasant is enormous: still he labours unwillingly, and of course ineffectually, under the idea that he works from compulsion and not for pay. In order to do all the farming work upon a given estate by the peasants, nearly one-half of the land capable of cultivation is portioned out among the labourers; nay there are estates every acre of which is occupied by the peasants, the landlord receiving nothing but the tenths and other casual services, unless he has occasion to send them to labour on some other of his estates. On other properties again there are no peasants—and this appears to be the state of things most desirable to the proprietor—so much so, that there are instances even where peasants have been on an estate, in which the lord has almost neglected to require their services, finding his labour better performed by hired servants.
If, however, the landlord have little reason to be satisfied, still less can the peasant be supposed to rejoice in his situation. On a failure of his crops, the latter, who has nothing but his field, starves or becomes a burden to his lord. Though the lord can legally claim a certain quantity only of labour, yet there are numberless pretexts on which he can demand more and be supported in those demands. The administration of justice is in a great degree vested in his own hands. There are many little faults for which a peasant becomes liable to be punished with blows or fines, but which he is often permitted to commute for labour. In fact, these things happen so frequently, and other extorted days of labour, which the peasant fears to refuse, occur so often, that, instead of estimating his labour at one hundred and four days, we should come much nearer to the truth were we to double that amount. Should, however, the lord or his agents have too strong a sense of justice to transgress the strictness of the law, still they can at any time call upon the peasants to serve for pay, and that not at the usual wages of a servant, but about one-third as much. Add to all this the services due to the government; the cases in which a peasant is obliged to be six weeks together from his home, with his horses and cart, carrying imperial stores to the frontier, and it will be evident how dearly he pays for the land which he holds as the only return for his labour.
After this explanation we cannot be surprised to learn that a marked feature in the character of the Hungarian peasant is indolence. This observation applies particularly to those of the counties around the Platten Lake. The equality and the savage life to which the people are here accustomed when pasturing their cattle in the forests are probably the chief causes of the frequent robberies that occur. Though robbers by profession, subsisting entirely on the fruits of their depredations abroad, still far the greater number are cattle-keepers under the various names of Tsikos, Gulyas, Juhasz, or Kanasz.
The latter are particularly notorious, and scarcely one person worthy of trust is to be found among them. The herdsmen are usually mere thieves, stealing cattle when they can, and plundering travellers when good opportunities present themselves. Those on the contrary who have no other occupation than to seek booty, and live constantly in the forest, steal cattle only when driven by necessity; the plunder of the traveller, whom they frequently murder, being their principal object. Jews and butchers are more particularly exposed to their attacks: the officers of the crown and the nobles are safe from a dread of the inquiry which in such cases would not fail to be instituted. They generally hail a carriage with a demand of money, styling themselves szegeny legeny, or poor fellows. The little solitary public houses suffer much from them, for when they can obtain nothing elsewhere they enter them and eat and drink without paying. Such houses are in consequence extremely unsafe, and the more so because the innkeepers are frequently connected with the robbers either as receivers or accomplices. In order to put a stop to this evil, pursuits are often instituted by the county, when some of the offenders are generally taken, but the extent of the county and the insufficient strength of the police prevent their total extermination.
In slight offences rather against good order than against law, the hofrichfer, or steward of a magnat, may at all times punish a peasant with stripes. For this purpose he is provided with a machine like a low table, on which the culprit lies, with two iron cramps at one end for confining the wrists, two at the other for securing the ankles, and a large one in the middle to pass over the back. Stretched out in this helpless situation, the culprit receives a certain number of stripes on the bare back with a stick. A notorious robber taken in the act may be put to death. When the case is not so clear, and confession cannot be obtained from the accused by examination, recourse is had to the discipline just described; and should this expedient also fail, and there be strong presumption of guilt, the prisoner is brought to trial before a court composed of servants of the lord and a few respectable freemen. From the decision of this court, which is completely under the influence of the magnat, appeals indeed lie to higher courts, and capital punishment cannot be inflicted without the sanction of those courts and also of the king.
Dr. Bright draws a striking but most revolting picture of a Hungarian prison. The place chosen for the confinement of prisoners, says that writer, is usually close adjoining to, or forms part of the dwelling of the lord: and as they are generally employed in labour, the traveller seldom approaches the house of a Hungarian noble who possesses the jus gladii, without being shocked by the clanking of chains and the exhibition of these objects of misery loaded with irons. The prison itself is never concealed from the curiosity of strangers; I should almost say that it is considered a boast, a kind of badge of the power which the lord possesses. One of the best I saw was at Keszthely. It forms an insignificant part of a large low building immediately opposite to the entrance of the castle, in which are the residences of several inferior officers of the estate. Under the guidance of the keeper of the prison I entered by a door well barred and bolted. Instantly seventeen figures all in the long Hungarian cloak, rose from the ground on which they were sitting. Besides themselves, the room, which was not above twelve feet square, presented no one object—no table, bed or chair. It was ventilated and lighted by several small grated windows high up in the sides of the walls. The prisoners were most of them young men: some had been tried, others had not; and some had been confined seven or eight years. Their crimes were very different; but no difference was made in the mode of treating them, excepting as to the number of lashes they were to receive at stated times, or the number of years they were to be imprisoned. Such was their residence in the day-time when they did not go out to work. We next proceeded to the dungeon in which they are confined during the night, the gaoler taking the precaution to disguise unpleasant smells by carrying a fumigating pot before us. On opening an inner door we entered a small room, in the corner of which lay two women on beds of straw. In the middle of the floor was an iron grate. This being opened by my guide, he descended first by means of a ladder, with a lamp in his hand, by the light of which I perceived that we were in a small antichamber or cell, from which a door opened into the dungeon, the usual sleeping-place of all the male prisoners. It was a small oblong vaulted cave, in which the only furniture was two straw mattresses. A few ragged articles of dress lay near the place where each prisoner was accustomed to rest upon the naked floor. In one corner of the room was a large strong chain, and about a foot and a half from the ground round the whole vault were rings let into the wall. The prisoners at night having laid themselves upon the ground, the chain is put through the irons which confine the ankles of three of them and is passed into a ring in the wall: it is then attached to three more, and is passed through a second ring, and continued in this way till a complete circuit of the room is made. The ends of the chain are fastened together by a padlock, by which the whole is firmly secured. It was painful to reflect that in this state some of these wretches had already passed their nights during seven years.
The general appearance of the peasants and of their habitations in the vicinity of Presburg, is thus described by the same intelligent observer:—
No one peasant has proceeded in the arts of life and civilization a step farther than his neighbour. When you have seen one you have seen all. From the same little hat, covered with oil, falls the same matted long black hair, negligently plaited or tied in knots; and over the same dirty jacket and trowsers is wrapped on each a cloak of coarse woollen cloth or sheep-skin still retaining its wool. Whether it be winter or summer, week-day or sabbath, the Slavonian of this district never lays aside his cloak or is seen but in heavy boots. Their instruments of agriculture are throughout the same, and in all their habitations is observed a perfect uniformity of design. A wide muddy road separates two rows of cottages which constitute a village. From among them there is no possibility of selecting the best or the worst: they are absolutely uniform. In some villages the cottages present their ends, in others their sides to the road: but there is seldom this variety in the same village.
The interior of the cottage is in general divided into three small rooms on the ground-floor, and a little space in the roof destined for lumber. The roof is commonly covered with a very thick thatch: the walls are whitewashed, and have two small windows toward the road. The cottages are usually placed a few yards distant from each other. The intervening space, defended by a rail and gate or a fence of wicker-work towards the road, forms the farm-yard, which runs back some way and contains a shed or out-house for cattle.
The cottages of the peasants of a village belonging to Count Hunyadi, in the county of Neutra, are thus described:—
The door opens in the side of the house into the middle room or kitchen, in which is an oven constructed of clay, and various implements for household purposes which generally occupy this apartment fully. On each side of the room is a door, communicating on one hand with the family dormitory, in which are the two windows that look into the road. This chamber is usually small but well arranged: the beds in good order, piled upon each other, to be spread on the floor at night, and the walls covered with a variety of pictures and images of our Saviour, together with dishes, plates, and vessels of coarse earthenware. The other door from the kitchen leads to the store-room, the repository of the greater part of the peasant’s riches, consisting of bags of grain of various kinds, both for consumption and for seed, bladders of tallow, sausages and other articles of provision, in quantities which it would astonish us to find in an English cottage. We must, however, bear in mind, that the harvest of the Hungarian peasant anticipates the income of the whole year, and that, from the circumstances in which he is placed, he should be compared with our farmer rather than with our labourer. The yards or folds between the houses are generally much neglected, and dirty receptacles of a thousand uncleanly objects. Light carts and ploughs with which the owner performs his stated labour; his meagre cattle; a loose rudely-formed heap of hay, and half a dozen ragged children, stand there in mixed confusion, over which three or four noble dogs, of a breed somewhat resembling the Newfoundland, keep faithful watch.
The habitations of the peasantry in the villages in the vicinity of Keszthely, in the county of Szalad, are built of clay, not regularly thatched, but covered with straw held down by poles laid upon it. The inclosures round the houses and yards are formed of reeds, and the village bell is raised upon a pole in a case like a pigeon-house.
In the district between the Drave and the Muhr, called the Murakös, the houses are larger and higher, having a complete upper floor. The roof generally projects four or five feet beyond the wall in the front, where it is supported by wooden pillars which rest upon large beams of timber, and thus a gallery is formed the whole length of the house. This passage, slightly raised above the ground, is usually much wider about the centre of the front, where the building recedes: and here the females of the family often sit at a table working. The walls of this part of the cottage are covered on the outside with shelves, upon which the dishes and household utensils are arranged. Such is the habitual honesty of the people of this district, that these articles remain there in perfect security, without the protection of the numerous watch-dogs which guard the most insignificant cottage in other parts of Hungary. In some cases the passage is much larger, and the house being built in the form of an L, it is continued along the end and the two internal fronts. Between the pillars of this rude piazza a shelf is constructed and a cupboard fixed containing a vessel of water for domestic use.
All the fences toward the road and those of the yards are of strong wicker-work thatched on the top with straw and reeds. In the yards stand several small buildings of the same materials, intended as houses for poultry, or as drying places for maize, together with large wooden hutches for pigs and an oven of clay and stone covered by a penthouse. The cottage kitchen is unusually convenient, and most of the cookery is carried on by means of the ordinary hearth-fire of Germany, to which is added an oven as part of the kitchen furniture.
Many of the roads in this part of the country are bordered on each side with mulberry trees, which have been planted as common property, with a view to the breeding of silk-worms. Considerable pains have here been taken to encourage that branch of industry, which nevertheless is not very flourishing.
The native Hungarian breed of horned cattle bears much resemblance to the wild white species which was formerly found in Britain. They are large, vigorous, and active, of a dirty white colour, with horns of prodigious length, exceeding in this respect even the long-horned breed of Lancashire. The oxen are admirably adapted for the plough, uniting to all the qualities of the ordinary ox, a very superior degree of activity.
Buffaloes are bred in Hungary for the same purposes as other horned cattle. The milk which they give is richer than other milk and the quantity considerable. As beasts of labour they are excessively strong, but slow and unmanageable. The number kept in Hungary and Transylvania is estimated at 70,000.
Bredetzky, a Hungarian writer, observes that Buffaloes are extremely valuable for their skins, which are employed at Rhonasech in forming the bags in which salt is raised from the mines. He also speaks of their ferocity and the difficulty of killing them in terms which would almost lead us to suppose them to be in a state of nature in that part of the country. The operation of shooting the Buffalo, says he, is curious but extremely dangerous, for in no other way can they be secured on account of their wildness. It is not possible to kill them with an axe like other cattle. They are first driven with great care from the inclosure in which they have been kept, and a shot is levelled by a person concealed exactly at the forehead. If he misses his aim, the animal with the most tremendous fury darts away so swiftly that dogs can scarcely overtake him, and any one who stands in his way is inevitably killed.
The original breed of Hungarian sheep is the real Ovis Strepsiceros of naturalists, covered with very coarse wool and bearing upright spiral horns. Improvement on this stock by crosses with other varieties, and the Spanish in particular, is become so general, that a flock of the native race is seldom to be met with, excepting on the estates of the clergy. The wool is now an important object of commerce. It was calculated that in 1802, above twelve million and a half pounds (each pound being equal to one pound and a quarter of our weight) was exported from Hungary. A large portion goes to Austria, and is manufactured there or sent to more distant markets; and much of the wool sold in England as Saxon wool, is actually the produce of Hungary, exported in spite of the heavy duty which it pays on leaving the Austrian dominions.
Some idea of the extraordinary care bestowed by the great landed proprietors on the improvement of their flocks may be formed from the following brief sketch of the system pursued by Count Hunyadi, who possesses about seventeen thousand sheep.
At each of the head-quarters for these animals, there are well-built sheds having brick pillars at certain distances, which leave about half the side open, and thus admit a free circulation of air during summer, and afford easy means of excluding the cold in winter. The height of the sheds is about seven feet to the springing of the roof, and they are divided by little racks into such spaces as are necessary for the division among the flocks. Racks are also arranged round the whole, so that all the sheep can conveniently feed at them. The floor is covered with straw, and the upper layer being continually renewed, a dry, warm bedding is obtained. In these houses the sheep are kept almost incessantly during the winter, that is, from November till April, and are then fed three times a day upon dry food. They are watered twice a day from a well close at hand. Even in summer the sheep are driven under cover every evening, and they are conducted home in the day-time, when it rains or the heat is oppressive. They always lamb in the house; the ewe being placed on this occasion in a little pen by herself, where she remains unmolested. These pens, about three feet long and two wide, are made of hurdles. Owing to this care they never lose a lamb. The number of persons employed is about one man to every hundred sheep, and each of them considers his flock as his family and pride.
The result of all this attention has been a success which could scarcely have been anticipated. A conception can hardly be formed of flocks more uniformly excellent. It is of course the wool and not the carcase, which is the great object in a country so poor and so thinly peopled as Hungary. The sheep are strong and healthy, and for the Spanish cross large; their fleeces perfect, and even the tail and legs covered with good wool. Three pounds, (about three pounds and three quarters of our weight) is the average produce of each sheep: but some, and particularly the rams, yield six or seven. The whole of the wool, without any separation, and only washed on the back of the sheep, is sold at the rate of from three shillings to four shillings and sixpence sterling for each Hungarian pound; and the consequence is that from flocks, which, if covered with the ordinary wool of the country, might be expected to yield fifteen or twenty thousand gulden, not less than fifty thousand is now annually produced.
Count Hunyadi has also taken great pains to improve the breed of his horses at his estate at Urmeny, in the county of Neutra; and with a view to ascertain the progress which he makes, and at the same time from a desire of exciting the country to exertion, he has instituted races on the English model. Solicitous to infuse into his own peasantry a spirit of improvement in this particular, he appoints a day on which their horses alone run, and gives rewards to the successful competitors. His stables are a fine range of buildings, with wooden floors, and contain from thirty to forty horses, chiefly crosses of the Arabian and Transylvanian breeds. His breeding stud is kept at a farm a few miles distant. Other proprietors of estates are beginning to understand the object and to appreciate the advantages of the plan of this spirited nobleman.
It is the custom throughout all Hungary, for the inhabitants of each village to commit their cattle to the care of a herdsman who, at a certain hour in the morning, drives them to the common pasture and brings them home at night. He carries a wooden trumpet, nearly four feet in length, exactly resembling the instrument usually put by artists into the hand of Fame. With this trumpet, the sound of which is harsh, he gives notice of his approach, and the peasants turn their cattle out of their yards that they may join his drove. In the evening when he conducts his motley crew of horses, cows, sheep, and goats back to the village, each individual finds, as it were instinctively, the cottage of his master, and quietly retires to his accustomed stall. The peasants pay the herdsman a small sum for each animal, but part of this remuneration is always made in grain or bread.
The ravages of wolves among the cattle, especially in the neighbourhood of woody mountains, are extremely serious. In all the frontiers these animals are much dreaded. In the hard winter of 1803, no fewer than 1533 head of cattle were devoured by them in the single district of the Wallacho-Illyrian regiment, which gave rise to some attempts to destroy them by poison, as the Turks are known to do by means of the aconitum napellus. The nux vomica was here employed, and not without success.
When much distressed for food, the wolves will sometimes attack the cottages of the peasants. An instance of this kind is related by Dr. Bright to have occurred not long before his visit at Leutschau. A woman who had two children, the one about twenty years of age, the other much younger, had just quitted her cottage in the morning, when a wolf rushed upon her and tore her face dreadfully: then leaving the first object of its rage, the animal fixed upon the child, and in an instant lacerated its head and deprived it of both eyes. The elder son alarmed, flew to the spot, and seizing the wolf by the throat, held it at bay for some moments; but being unable to maintain the unequal conflict, became himself the object of attack: the hungry beast fixed his fangs deep in his neck. The cries of the unhappy victims brought some assistance to the spot, and the wolf made his escape. As soon, however, as the necessary aid had been afforded to the sufferers, an active pursuit was instituted and the animal was discovered in a thicket. A young man levelled his piece: it missed fire, and the wolf was in the very act of springing on its pursuer, when it was brought to the ground by a well aimed blow of a cudgel.
The mode of storing wheat generally adopted in this country is very objectionable. After being beaten out, often by the feet of horses and oxen, it is deposited in holes in the ground, where it is kept during the winter. There it acquires a strong mouldy smell, which, indeed, goes off in some degree by exposure to the air. These holes are dug of a circular form and about three feet deep; and an excavation is made of such dimensions that a man can sit in it to stow away the grain and assist in bringing it to the surface when required. This done, a fire is kindled in it to harden the sides, which are afterwards lined with straw. When the grain is thus stowed, straw is placed upon the top, and earth thrown in to fill up the entrance hole, which forms the neck, as it were, of the cave, and a little heap of earth remains pointing out the spot; or a piece of wood is stuck in it as a mark. There is scarcely a village near which a number of such hillocks are not to be seen.
We shall now present the reader with an account of the costumes prevailing in different parts of the country.