In the summer of 1824, I left Paris to visit Princess Elizabeth,[[94]] Landgravine of Hesse Homburg, who had been so good as to invite me long before, and to whom I should have gone in the preceding year had not business called me to England. Her Royal Highness had also mentioned in her letters the wish of the Queen-Dowager of Würtemberg[[95]] that I should pass some time with her, after having been at Homburg.
Metz was the last town in which I slept in France, and after passing Forbach, I entered Germany, and was surprised to observe the gaiety of the inhabitants. They seemed to enjoy their music and waltzing, in which the children exercise themselves almost as soon as they can walk. On the 5th July I slept at Kaiserlauten. The inn is an immense building, of the strangest construction imaginable, with wooden galleries running along both sides of the court-yard. While at dinner, a courier arrived, followed by two carriages, in one of which was Baron de Rothschild, on his way to Frankfort, to marry his niece. A great collection of people, children in particular, crowded round the door, and I afterwards heard they were most of them Jews, some to present petitions, and others simply to beg of him. None, however, were suffered to enter. The sensation occasioned on the road by the passage of M. Rothschild exceeded that usually produced by a sovereign prince.
The appearance of Mayence struck me as very melancholy. So long as this city belonged to the Ecclesiastical Elector it was a capital at which many rich families resided, and where there was a corps diplomatique. But now no carriages were to be heard rolling through the streets; few foot passengers were to be seen; the garrison alone enlivening the place. This was composed of Austrians and Prussians, and each of those Courts in turn appointed a Governor for three years. The Austrians were quartered at one end of the city, and the Prussians at the other. The former, in their white regimentals, were tall, fine-looking men; the Prussians, in blue, not so tall, but apparently very active. Both had good bands of music.
I went to see the Cathedral, which, notwithstanding the eleven years of peace, still wore the desolate appearance in which it had been left by the French, to the great annoyance of the good old beadle who showed it to me, and who had witnessed the horrors of the war. The sacred edifice had served as an hospital for the wounded, and I recollect hearing the Count de M., a French general, say that the air was so mephitic, on account of the great number of sufferers lying there, that in the evening it extinguished the lights, or at least rendered them scarcely visible. The destruction of the tombs was wanton barbarism; but a few statues of Electors were left standing, and amongst them one belonging to an English family. These were placed at a great height, which, I suppose, was the reason they were spared.
At Frankfort I called on the Princess of Stolberg Goedern, who was in her ninety-second year. She told me she could not conceive how the Countess of Albany, her eldest daughter, could have died so young, for she had lost her a few months before at the age of seventy. She was the daughter of a Prince of Horn, by Lady Bruce, daughter of the Earl of Aylesbury, who, as a Roman Catholic, espoused the cause of the Stuarts, and died at Brussels. He was father of the first Earl, who settled at Tottenham Park, and left the estate to his nephew, Thomas Brudenell, whom he intended for the husband of his only daughter, Lady Mary,[[96]] but she married the Duke of Richmond, and his widow afterwards married General Conway. The Princess of Stolberg was quite the great lady, but had been reduced to poverty. The late and present Lord Aylesbury allowed her an annuity, on which she chiefly subsisted; but she has lately obtained for herself and her unmarried daughter, who lives with her, a pension of 500l. a year from the King of England, for which they appeared to be very grateful. His portrait was in one of their bedrooms. The old lady is now able to indulge in the constant use of a carriage, and in going to the theatre, to balls, and great parties, from which she is the last to retire. The daughter, whom I had formerly seen at Rome with the Countess of Albany, with whom I was not then acquainted, appeared to be a sensible woman, and by no means so young in her ideas and pursuits as her mother.
After staying a few days at Frankfort I went on to Homburg, a small town situated on an eminence of one of the little hills on the ascent to the Feldberg. The castle is a large irregular building, and in the midst of the inner court is a very high insulated tower, which is said to be of Roman construction; but the upper part seems to be of the middle ages. It stands at the highest extremity of the town, with a large garden and a terrace lined with orange-trees. I found the Landgravine (Princess Elizabeth) in a comfortable though not splendid apartment, and she introduced me to the Landgrave and to his sister, Princess Mary Anne, who is married to Prince William of Prussia, brother to the King. They have been staying here some time with their three children, the eldest of whom is a boy of thirteen, already in the service of the King of Prussia. Two of the Landgrave’s brothers were living in the castle—Prince Gustavus, married to a Princess of Anhalt Dessau, and Prince Ferdinand. Besides these, the Landgrave had two other brothers, Prince Louis and Prince Philip, the former in the Prussian service. The Landgrave himself, a general officer in the Austrian army, commanded an Hungarian regiment. Princes Philip, Gustavus, and Ferdinand were likewise in the service of Austria, and all had distinguished themselves greatly during the war; and their conduct, as well as that of their late father, had been highly honourable and disinterested. I was much pleased with the Landgrave. He had a noble frankness of character, and a patriarchal kindness for his family, which, added to his generous and humane care of his subjects, rendered him truly worthy of being beloved by all who knew him. There was a chapel in the castle in which service was performed twice a day every Sunday, alternately in the Calvinist and Lutheran manner. He had chaplains for each, who dined in turns with him; and we went to both services. There were several Catholics in Homburg, who had a chapel of their own, to which the Landgrave had contributed. He not only found physicians for the sick, but paid for all their medicines, and usually visited them during their illness. He often, too, attended funerals, and was, indeed, the father of his people. He spoke and wrote French with great correctness, and without any unpleasant accent. He was well versed in history and geography, and had a good library of books of that description, and a great number of engravings, all of which he was most willing to lend me. He was remarkably neat in his person, and never came into company without changing his dress if he had been smoking. He was then about fifty-four.
Princess William of Prussia was very handsome, and had a fine figure, with great dignity of manners. I believe she was well informed, and patronised literature at Berlin. Her sons, Prince Adalbert[[97]] and Prince Waldemar, were then very young, and her daughter, Princess Elizabeth, still younger. Princess Louisa, the wife of Prince Gustavus, had at that time only two daughters. She appeared to be gentle and pleasing, but unfortunately was very deaf. She mixed little in general society, being unwilling, as she said, to give trouble.
The Germans are very fond of gardens, and pass much of their time in them. Each of the Princes had his own garden, and the Landgravine had two, to one or other of which she used to take me in the morning. We dined at two, except on Sunday, when the hour was three, on account of the two services at the chapel. On that day there were usually at least thirty at dinner. We supped at nine, and went to our rooms at ten. All these meals were announced by beat of drum.
The Landgravine had two maids of honour, and the Landgrave a master of the household, an aide-de-camp, and an officer who served as secretary, always in waiting, and who dined with us every day. There was also a widow lady, who had belonged to the Landgrave’s mother, who dined daily at the castle, but only the maids of honour slept there. There were other gentlemen who belonged to the Landgrave, and often dined at his table, as did their ladies on the Sunday. A Princess of Solms also dined there frequently, and she lived in a house in the town belonging to the Landgrave. There was a maître d’hôtel, eighty years of age, who, with his white wand, used to preside over the dinner and supper tables. The servants were very numerous.
The private apartments of the Landgravine consisted of several large rooms, well furnished, and a small boudoir, in which she usually sat. There was a very handsome suite of rooms, finely furnished, for princely visitors. The Landgrave’s private rooms, however, were more simple, but he had in them some good pictures.