I have deferred telling you anything about the Grotto of Adelsberg, on account of the great difficulty I find in conveying any idea of it. It is without doubt the most wonderful thing of its kind in the world.
Adelsberg itself is a little German village perched under a steep conical hill which is crowned with the ruins of an old castle; it is at one border of a circular plain, several miles in extent, dotted here and there with little hamlets, and surrounded with mountains, so that it is like a large basin, and seems wholly shut out from the rest of the world. It is so still and quiet that it would do very well for the valley of Rasselas, but the mountains do not form precipices except on one side, where they are accessible at a few points only, and there with much difficulty, as I had occasion to know. The streams that come down from the mountains unite to form a little river, perhaps nearly twice the size of the Fishkill Creek; and this, after running about the valley seeking an outlet in vain, at length in despair, as it seems, dives into the solid rock at the foot of hills near the village. The entrance for visitors is a small hole above this, which opens into a long gallery, perhaps two hundred yards in extent. From this you descend into a vast hall, called the Dome, more than one hundred feet high, and three or four hundred feet in length. As you descend you hear the roar of the waters confined in their deep prison-house, and at the bottom you meet the river which rushes swiftly to the distant extremity of this hall, and there sinks into the dark depths. Instead of a stupid monument and inscription by the late emperor, placed above this, it would have been much better taste to have placed in the stream a piece of statuary representing Charon and his boat, for never was seen so perfect a beau-ideal of the fabled river Styx. This is the last you see of the river Poik; but the Unz, which bursts forth a large stream from the rocks at Planina, is believed to be the same. This river is crossed by a bridge. Then we went on to another hall about three quarters of a mile from the entrance; the ball-room, where a large gathering of peasants of the surrounding country, in their national costume, were dancing waltzes in the bowels of the earth!
Hiatus vastus.—I left this account of the Adelsberg Grotto, and my journey through Illyria and Styria, for the first convenient opportunity,—a time that never comes,—so now I must send it as it is. The grotto is wonderful past all description, and our visit was very opportune; the whole scene not soon to be forgotten.
29th May.—It rained all day yesterday, so Schönbrunn was out of the question, and I spent the morning again at the Cabinet of Botany; and after dinner Philip and myself, in spite of the rain, set out to visit the imperial picture-gallery in the Upper Belvedere Palace, which is finely situated in one of the suburbs. The gallery is very extensive and excellent, especially in the Dutch school, and we had barely time to finish our hasty reconnoissance before it closed for the night. I had a fine view of the city from the windows of the upper story. We stopped at a café on our way home, took some lemonade and ice-cream, while I read “Galignani’s Messenger” for English news. This morning I went to the gallery as usual, and after working for a little time, Mr. Putterlich,[102] the sub-assistant, went with me to the famous Mineralogical Cabinet, the finest in the world. A most splendid affair it is. It occupies a suite of quite ordinary rooms, but is excellently arranged and shows to great advantage. Here are all the fine gems, diamonds, emeralds, topaz, and all sorts of precious stones, both polished and natural. I saw also the bouquet of precious stones made for Maria Theresa, a most brilliant affair. The collection of aerolites is unique. I intend to visit it again on Saturday. I obtained some useful information here as to the mode of constructing the shelves, etc., in a mineralogical cabinet; their plan here is the best I have seen. If I knew what I now do, I could have given a plan for the construction of the cabinets at the Lyceum infinitely better than the present. Returning to the Botanical Gallery I occupied myself in selecting specimens for myself from Rugel’s New Holland collections. Endlicher offers me these and other plants, as many as I like. He also offered to send to Hamburg for me a copy of the “Iconographia Generum Plantarum,” the “Annals of the Vienna Museum,” and some other of his works. After dinner, finding nothing else to do for a few moments, I went into a bookseller’s,—the publisher of Endlicher’s “Genera Plantarum,”—to look up some reports on education, etc. I asked also for botanical works; and after offering me several things which I did not want, they brought out, as a great rarity, our own “Flora,” which I told them I did not want at all. At six o’clock, Endlicher called upon me to take me to the Botanic Garden of the university, under the care of Baron Jacquin, who is professor, at the same time, of both botany and chemistry in the university, and scarcely lectures on either. He introduced me to the old fellow, a hard-featured chap, who managed to speak a little English and talked to me of the year he spent at Sir Joseph Banks’ in bygone times. We went through the garden, which is finely situated, covers much ground, and has fine trees, but is wretchedly cared for; in fact it is almost left to run wild, although well endowed.... I have some curious anecdotes to give you about the censorship of the press at Vienna, but have not energy enough left to write this evening.
Thursday evening.—Nothing can be printed and published here, without first being examined and approved by a censor of the press. The government appoints four or five persons in Vienna, who examine in different departments, one for newspapers, one for works of science! others for different branches of literature. Every author must send his manuscript to the police-office, whence it is handed over to the proper censor, who certifies that it contains nothing immoral, nothing against the government, and that it is good literature, or science, or poetry, as the case may be, and worthy of being published; it is then returned to the author, with permission to print it. The author’s annoyance does not end here. He is obliged to leave a copy of his manuscript with the police, and a copy of the work as soon as printed, so that they may be compared, and any alterations or additions detected. If he desires to make any alterations in his manuscript after it has passed the censorship, he must send it back for a second examination. Persons holding responsible official situations are not exempt: if a censor himself wishes to publish anything, his manuscript must be given to the police that it may be examined by some other censor. All kinds of works, books of dry science not excepted, are subject to the censorship. To my great surprise, Endlicher, who gave me all this information, informed me that all the manuscript of his “Genera Plantarum” is sent to the police, who transmit it to Baron Jacquin, the censor for natural history, etc., and who is well paid for the business, but who knows just as much about it as if it were written in Arabic, and who certifies to each portion that it contains nothing hurtful to the people, nothing offensive to the emperor, to religion, etc., and more than all, that it is good science! To avoid the annoyance of sending it back repeatedly, as he has alterations to make, he is obliged to promise the printer to indemnify him, in case any discrepancy is observed between the manuscript and the printed work. Endlicher spoke of all this in terms which there is no necessity for me to record just at present. He gave me an anecdote respecting the publication of his earliest botanical work of any consequence, a Flora of his native town, the “Flora Posoniensis:” the manuscript being duly sent to Jacquin, that worthy refused to give it his imprimatur, because, it was arranged according to the natural system! which Jacquin did not like; and Endlicher was obliged to apply personally to the ministers and take great pains, when he obtained permission to print in spite of the censor; he took his revenge by dedicating the work to Baron Jacquin himself! This system sufficiently explains the low state of literature in Austria, as compared with northern Germany. I could hardly believe all I have heard, had I not obtained my information from such authentic sources....
Friday evening, 31st May, 1839.—The remainder of the morning was devoted to the botanical cabinet; and in the afternoon and early part of the evening I called with Endlicher upon Mr. Fenzl,[103] the aide-naturaliste in the botanical department, who is confined to his bed by some affection of one of his legs. He is engaged in a monograph of Alsineæ, which I think will be very faithfully done, and we looked over several collections by his bedside. I made a bundle of all I wished to examine, which are sent to my lodgings for the purpose, and which will give me occupation for the evening. He introduced me to his frau, a regular German lassie, and we managed to converse altogether for some time in a curious mixture of French, German, and English.
On the Danube, on board the Dampschiff
(steamboat) Maria-Anna, bound for Linz, 5th June.
Schönbrunn, the Versailles of Austria, is much like Versailles itself on a smaller scale, but much less magnificent. I visited the grounds with Endlicher, and also visited the botanic garden attached, under the care of M. Schott.[104] The garden is very finely arranged, but all that is particularly worth seeing is the conservatories and the large collection of exotics, many of them very old like those of Kew. It is richer than Kew in Palms, Aroideæ, etc., but in other things it seems not quite equal. As we passed by the palace, the emperor was pointed out to me, through the open windows of his cabinet. I am told privately that he is scarcely compos mentis, and that all government affairs are managed by a regency of which Metternich and Archduke Charles are chief. We went next to see Baron Hügel, and the extensive collection of living plants he has collected during his travels. I think I have not told you the cause of his long journeying. He was, it appears, the accepted lover of an accomplished and beautiful lady of very good family here, and their union was considered as a settled affair. But unfortunately for poor Hügel, Prince Metternich looked upon the lady and determined to have her. So he sent Hügel upon some humbugging political mission, to Paris I believe, and during his absence he made his propositions to the father and mother, who were not slow in discovering that Metternich, with all his riches and power, malgré his sixty-odd years, was the fittest bridegroom; and I am sorry to add that they persuaded the daughter to the same opinion, though she could have had little liking to the old fellow personally, and was said to be much attached to Hügel. The latter at length found out why he was sent to Paris, and came back with all speed, but he was too late. His intended became Princess Metternich, and Hügel set out to cure his disappointment or forget his love by traveling in foreign lands. Metternich, being glad to get rid of him, threw facilities in his way, and being fond of plants he collected and sent home an immense quantity for his garden. At the same time he made extensive collections of dried specimens, etc., which all reached Vienna safely. He spent nearly all his fortune in traveling, and would have been in a quandary, but the government, that is to say, Metternich, bought all his collections of dried plants, animals, etc., for the Imperial Cabinet, giving for them an immense price, some thirty times more than they are worth, and so Hügel is able to enlarge and embellish his place, improve his garden, and build most beautiful greenhouses. He has fitted up his house very tastefully, and filled it with all manner of strange things, arms, idols, and so forth. His collection of living plants is larger than that of Schönbrunn, though the trees are younger.
Several days after my arrival I called to pay my respects to our minister here, Mr. Muhlenberg, and the secretary of legation, Mr. Clay. Philip and myself also spent an evening at Mr. Clay’s, where we met Mr. and Mrs. Muhlenberg, and their daughter, a young lady of about seventeen; also Mrs. Clay, a pretty woman, and Mr. Schwartz (the American consul here) and his wife, who both speak English indifferently well. Muhlenberg seems quite sick of living here, and speaks of the Austrians with anything but praise.
We went one evening to a public garden, of which there are many here, to hear the most celebrated musician here, Mr. Strauss. A few kreutzers are charged for admission, and the company are nearly all seated, at little tables, eating a substantial supper, or sipping coffee or ices, as they incline, while Strauss with his fine band played the finest music, mostly pieces of his own composition. It was the best music I ever heard.