We now determined, and fortunately, to see the Passion Play at Ober-Ammergau. I say fortunately, because we could scarcely have done it in 1890, just before his death; the fatigue would have been too great for him. We had a delightful trip from Venice to Padua, to Vicenza, and thence to Verona. There the country is simply lovely, and the train begins to mount to Ala, which is the frontier of Italy and the Austrian Tyrol. It seems like getting out of a picturesque desert—so far are the Italians behind Austrian civilization. You pass Trento, and reach Botzen, which is really only nine hours and fifty-eight minutes' actual train from Venice if you do not stop on the road. From Botzen to Munich is nine hours and twenty-three minutes' delightful journey, breakfasting at Franzensfeste. You are examined at Kufstein, the frontier between the Austrian Tyrol and Bavaria. The scenery of the Brenner is simply glorious, and Brenner-Bad is a delightful little place to stay at. Munich is certainly a lovely city; its buildings are magnificent, but its art is very, very new. We saw everything in the City inside and out, and enjoyed the society of General and Mrs. Staunton, our Consul, and certainly we must own that the Hôtel des Quatres Saisons is the most delightful and comfortable in the world.
The next station for Ober-Ammergau is two hours and a half to Mürnau, where you go to the Pantelbraü Hotel. There is beautiful mountain scenery, and the hurry-scurry to get to Ober-Ammergau is quite like the Derby Day, with every sort of vehicle and horses. The village is otherwise peaceful, a rural inn, with a nice family containing at least one pretty girl, and the wine is very good, especially Zeller I. and Schwarzer Herr-Gott; the beds and the food are excellent. Being Sunday we went to Mass, and noticed a very curious picture in the church. A head was peeping out of the ground as if the body were buried in it; near it was a book with "Lehren" inscribed upon it; also near were dice, a money-bag, a serpent, and smoke. A new-comer advances towards the head; but his guardian angel is remonstrating with him, as if he were saying to him, "Let him be—it is none of your business," and a Madonna appears in the skies. After breakfast we started for Ober-Ammergau. The scenery was magnificent, the Ettalberg very steep, and two extra horses were obliged to be put on. Richard liked walking, and with only me in the carriage, they appeared to be almost crawling on their stomachs. Halfway was a rural inn, where the peasants were playing, dancing, and drinking beer. In four hours from leaving Mürnau we were deposited at a pretty cottage, where rooms were let by a Frau Haüser.
I understand that a great many improvements exist now; but at that time we had two whitewashed little rooms, no sheets, one spoon, one glass, no table, and a pint of water in a pie-dish; but our windows looked out on the church, which is surmounted by a spire and a plain iron cross, and the Kofel, a sugar-loaf peak, which seems to guard the mountain gorge.
We wandered about the village, and picked up some food as we could at a small eating-house called the "Stern," for Frau Haüser did not undertake to board us. We were up at dawn. At Ober-Ammergau the day begins with Mass and Communion. The play begins at eight in the morning, and lasts eight hours (eighteen acts), with an hour and a half interval for food and rest. The play over, Richard and I both sat down at once, and described minutely Ober-Ammergau, the Play, and our impressions. I think, perhaps, that there have been so many descriptions, that it would be a pity to load this book with them. We both sent them to the same man, and Richard was anxious that they should be produced together, under the heading, "Ober-Ammergau, as seen by Four Eyes." He wrote the cynical and I the religious side, but as the man who printed them was too poor to produce the two, he published Richard's; but I will now bring them out together in the "Uniform Library" of my husband's works, just as he wished it.
Suffice it to say, that the simplicity of a theatre in the open air was most realistic, and made one think of the old early Latin and Greek plays, and the miracle-plays of early Christianity. The men acted beautifully; the women were cold or shy, and therefore uninteresting. I can only say that I thanked God for having been allowed to see it, and as we sat together Richard watched me closely to see what affected me, and I did the same with him. What affected him immensely—and he owned it—was Christ on the Cross. He said, "I never could have imagined Christ on the Cross without seeing it; it made me feel very queer." Now, as to me, what broke my heart was the repentances of the sinners, and I am not ashamed to say that I sobbed bitterly—not Magdalen's, for she was too cold, but Peter's, when Christ came forth with the Cross, after he had denied Him and Christ looked at him. The penitent thief on the Cross, and Judas's despair, I shall never forget all my life. With all Richard's cynicism, he was right glad to have seen it.
We went to visit the Pfarrer, or priest, the only really paramount influence in Ober-Ammergau. We saw Josef Maier, who acted the Christ, and with his permission went to inspect the scenes behind the theatre, where they were practising fastening to the Cross, and, under strict secrecy, we saw how it was done.
On the 25th was the fête of St. Louis, when they celebrate the foundation of Bavaria, then seven hundred years before. On return to Munich we dined at the Embassy. We met in Munich the Dowager Lady Stanley and Mrs. John Stanley (now Lady Jeune), and found to our great annoyance that we had just missed Lord Houghton, who had been staying in the same hotel with us and we had never known it. We then went to Innsbrück, where we saw everything in and about, and on to Toblach, from whence three hours' drive takes you into the Dolomites into lovely scenery, beginning at Cortina di Ampezzo. Here we found actual winter weather, though it was only the 30th of August. From this we went on to Villach, a delightful place, where it was very difficult to get rooms; but we got some beds at a Braüerei. Here we saw, as usual, everything in and about, and then we went by the glorious new road Tarvis and Pont' Ebba (not so very long open), with scenery unrivalled, and reached Udine, where we were on the main line for our own home. Here we stayed to visit the tomb of Fra Oderico, a Franciscan monk, who went to China and wrote a book three centuries ago—a very holy man—and then we went home to Trieste to receive our old friends Mr. Aubertin, Sir Charles Sebright, the Dowager Lady Stanley of Alderley, with Mrs. John Stanley, who stayed a couple of days en route for Corfu. The Dowager Lady Stanley was one of Richard's oldest and best friends, and she has proved herself one to me since his death. I cannot say how much we enjoyed their visit.
On the 15th of September the Pandora came in with Mr. W. H. Smith and his family, and we took excursions together, showed them all the lions in a couple of days, and dined on board with them. We had visits also from Abbate Bey and Brugsch Bey from Egypt. Baron Marco Morpurgo, the director of Lloyd's, used sometimes to give us a charming supper-party on board one of the Lloyd's vessels anchored in the harbour. A great friend and admirer of Richard's, and my now true friend, Miss E. H. Bishop, who resides, like myself, in a little cottage near Redbridge, Hants, came to stay with us.
On the 9th of November, 1880, we had an earthquake at 7.30 in the evening, which demolished half Agram, injured Graz, and shook us terribly. Richard and I were writing, and our table ran away, and it made us feel very uncomfortable. Graeffe saw three earthquake waves come in and out.