Wittemberg, Prussia, July 23, 1841.
We this morning arrived in this interesting town. I say interesting, from historical association only, as the town itself is dull and lifeless, with a population of seven thousand. It has been termed the Protestant Mecca; it was the cradle of the Reformation, as Martin Luther openly engaged here in opposition to the Church of Rome.
After procuring a valet-de-place, we proceeded to the market-place, where, beneath a Gothic canopy of cast iron, is a bronze statue of Luther, inscribed with these words in German: “If it be the work of God, it will endure; if of man, it will perish.”
We next visited the town hall, where are preserved several paintings, among the number one of Luther and one of Melancthon; also the drinking cup of Luther, and several other relics. On passing up the street to visit the ancient Augustine convent, where Luther meditated the change of the religion of Europe, we passed the house of Melancthon, on which are inscribed these words, “Hier wohnte, lehrte, und starb Melancthon.”—(Here lived, taught, and died Melancthon.) On arriving at Luther’s cell, we found the old chair and table at which he wrote, and the jug from which he drank. The wall bears the name of Peter the Great, written with his own hand. Outside of the gate of the town is an oak tree surrounded by a railing, marking the spot where Luther burnt publicly the Papal bull, by which Pope Leo X. condemned his doctrines and excommunicated him as an obstinate heretic, in Dec. 1520. Luther and his friend Melancthon are both buried in one church here. Two tablets of bronze inserted in the pavement mark their graves. Here are also the tombs of Frederic the Wise and John the Steadfast, Electors of Saxony, who were great friends of Luther and the Reformation. Against the doors of this church Luther hung up his ninety-five arguments, which condemned the doctrine of Papal indulgence, and which he offered to defend against all comers.
We leave here to-morrow morning for Berlin, the capital of Prussia. I wrote you last from Dresden, and next visited Leipsig, interesting as a commercial place, and celebrated for its memorable battle—the battle of the nations—one of the longest, sternest, and bloodiest actions of the war, and one of the largest battles recorded in history; the number of troops on the side of Bonaparte being one hundred and thirty-six thousand, and on the part of the allies two hundred and thirty thousand—two thousand cannon and eighty thousand horse. It is said that after the battle had raged three days in the vicinity of the city, on the 19th of Oct. 1813, it reached up to the walls, and cannon shot fell in showers in the streets. The castle of Plazenburg, the ancient citadel, is lofty, and from the observatory the guide gave us an accurate description of the position of all the armies. I visited the spot where the bridge was, unfortunately for the French, blown up, whereby twenty-five thousand soldiers were lost or taken. The river Elster runs through the city, and by this mistake many thousands of French, on the retreat, were precipitated, with wagons, cannon, and horses, into the stream. The gallant Pole, Poniatowski, whose tomb I found near the bank of the river, lost his life here. Leipsig contains a population of forty-seven thousand five hundred, and its sale of books forms one of the chief branches of commerce, said to amount to twenty million francs yearly. Three fairs are held here during the year, and while they continue Leipsig is said to be the mart of central Europe, and is visited by foreigners from all quarters, sometimes to the extent of thirty thousand. Then every hotel and lodging-house is filled to overflowing, and temporary booths occupy the streets. The old walls of the city have long since been demolished, and instead of them the city is now encircled with a belt of trees, forming delightful promenades bordered with flowers. It is said that in the year 1834, eighty thousand names of strangers were enrolled on the police books, and during the fair the streets were thronged with Jews, Tyrolese, Persians, Armenians, Turks, and Greeks, mingled together in a masquerade. Our valet took us to a cellar for refreshments, where, according to tradition, the famous magician Dr. Faustus performed his feats, which are represented by rude daubs upon the wall. Goethe has laid in the cellar a scene of the tragedy of Faust. It is said that the poet, as well as his hero, not unfrequently caroused here, while a student.
On leaving Leipsig we took passage for Dessau, the residence of Prince Anhalt Dessau, a separate and distinct principality. There is nothing remarkable on this route except the palace of gardens, at Worlitz, belonging to this prince. The grounds are very extensive and beautifully laid out, as is usually the case with those of the titled nobility—adorned with artificial caves and grottoes, miniature Gothic castles, a temple of Venus, an imitation in miniature of the Pantheon at Rome, lakes, labyrinths, &c. The church and chapel are very pretty; the palace is magnificently arranged, and filled with statuary, paintings, antiquities, &c.; it is only used as a summer retreat. While attending service recently we were struck with the fine vocal music produced by about thirty young boys. On inquiry, I found that singing is a part of Prussian education, and in no country, perhaps, is the system of general knowledge so extended as in Prussia. By law every child, at the age of eight years, must attend school.
In most states, although every man is obliged to serve in the army, a substitute may be had; not so in Prussia; every able-bodied man, from prince to peasant, must serve in person. Three years is the usual time, but as an encouragement for superior education, on the meeting of the board of military examination, young men showing proof of superior education may claim the right of serving only one year. All are liable to duty in case of war. By this system it is said that Prussia can, in a short period, furnish over half a million of men for the defence of its wide-spread frontier.
XVII.
Berlin, Prussia, July 30, 1841.
I arrived in this city the day following my last letter from Wittemberg. Our approach to the capital of Prussia was through a dreary plain of sand, destitute of either beauty or fertility, and differing widely from the rich agricultural country through which I had been travelling. It is surprising that the foundation of a city should have been laid in so uninteresting a spot, and still more surprising that it should have grown to be the capital of a great kingdom.