To face p. 116, vol. i.
Kempten, three leagues farther on, is a town as big as St. Foy, handsome, populous, and abounding in good lodgings. We stayed at the “Bear,” an excellent house. At our meals they brought in great silver vessels of various kinds (these in sooth were intended to serve merely as ornaments, being richly worked and covered with the arms of divers gentlemen), the sort of plate which is only to be seen in houses of high quality. Here it was that we were brought to see the truth of an observation which M. de Montaigne had made elsewhere, to wit, that if foreigners ignore certain usages favoured by ourselves, it is because they hold these usages in slight esteem. For instance, these people, though they possess vast store of pewter utensils as well scoured as those at Montaigne, will only make use of wooden platters, which indeed are both well made and well kept. In all these countries they put cushions on the seats in the evening, and nearly all the panelled ceilings of the apartments are vaulted half-moon fashion, which gives them a very graceful appearance. As to the linen, concerning which we had previously made certain complaints, we had no occasion to be dissatisfied; indeed, as far as my master was concerned,[60] I never failed to procure enough of the same wherewith to fashion a pair of curtains for his bed, and whenever he happened to want an extra towel it was always given to him. In this town lives a certain merchant who carries on a traffic of a hundred thousand florins annually in linen. M. de Montaigne, on leaving Constance, would fain have visited that canton of Switzerland[61] which supplies linen for the whole of Christendom, if there had not been four or five hours needed for crossing the lake and back to Lindau. This town (Kempten) is Lutheran, and here, as at Isne, the strange custom obtains that the Catholic church is most sumptuously served, notwithstanding the lack of worshippers. On the morrow, Thursday, a working day, the Mass was said at the abbey outside the town, as it is given in Notre Dame, at Paris, on Easter Day, with organ music, though none were present but priests. Those who dwell outside the imperial towns are not free to change their religion, and many in this case attend the service aforesaid on feast days. This is a very magnificent abbey.[62] The abbot holds the same as a prince, and receives therefrom an income of fifty thousand florins yearly, the present abbot being of the house of Estain. All the brethren are of gentle birth. The abbey was founded in 783 by Hildegarde, the wife of Charlemagne, who is buried there and honoured as a saint; and her bones have been disinterred from the vault in which they were laid to be placed elsewhere in a shrine.
On the same Thursday morning M. de Montaigne went to the Lutheran church, which was similar to others of the same sect and of the Huguenots, except that close by the altar, which is at the head of the nave, there are several wooden benches, with stools below, so that those who receive the supper may kneel, as is their custom. M. de Montaigne found there two ministers, elderly men, of whom one preached in German to a scanty congregation. When he had finished they sang a psalm in German, to music differing somewhat from what we use. After each verse the fine organ, which had recently been erected, made a response in music, and whenever the preacher named the name of Christ he and all his hearers uncovered themselves. The sermon being finished, the other minister placed himself in front of the altar with his face towards the people, holding in his hand a book. A young woman with bare head and loosened hair approached him, and, after saluting him in the way these people use, remained standing before him. Soon afterwards a young man, an artisan with a sword by his side, presented himself, and stood beside the young woman. The minister spoke a few words into the ear of each, directed them both to repeat a paternoster, and then began to read from his book. There were certain ceremonies to be undergone by those seeking marriage, and next the minister made them take each other by the hand without kissing. When this ceremony was finished the minister went his way, and M. de Montaigne caught him up, and they held a long discourse together after he had taken M. de Montaigne to his house, which was seemly and well appointed. His name was Johannes Tillianus, a native of Augsburg. M. de Montaigne asked concerning a new Confession, lately formulated by the Lutherans to which all the doctors and princes who supported it have put their names; this however, is not written in Latin. When they were leaving the church a company with violins and tambourines came to meet the newly-married pair and escorted them home. On being asked if they permitted dancing, the minister exclaimed, “And why not!” and again to the question: Why had they let Jesus Christ be represented in the windows of the church, and upon the organs newly built? and why had they set up divers images? he replied that they did not condemn the use of images as warnings and examples, but only as objects of worship. Again, when he was asked why they had removed from the churches the ancient images, he answered that it was not they who had done this, but their worthy disciples the Zwinglians, who had occupied the churches in the first instance, and, being stirred up by a spiteful humour, had done this outrage and divers others to boot. The same explanation was given to M. de Montaigne by other members of this confession during his travels, the doctor at Isne to wit, who, when he was asked whether he hated the figure and effigy of the Cross, cried out straightway: “How can I be such an atheist as to hate this figure so full of joy and glory to all Christians! Opinions like these are of the devil.” And as they sat at ease at table all declared the same: that they would rather hear a hundred masses than take part in the Calvinist supper. At this place they served us white hares at table. The town is on the river Isler,[63] and, after taking our dinner there on the Thursday aforesaid, we travelled four leagues over a rocky, sterile road to Frienten,[64] a small village, Catholic like all the rest of this country, which is under the Archduke of Austria.
When treating of Linde, I forgot to say that at the entrance of the town there is a large wall bearing signs of great antiquity, and having naught written thereon that I see. I heard that its name in German signified “the old wall.”
On this Friday morning, though our lodging was a very mean one, we did not fail to find plentiful provision. It is the habit of these people to warm neither their sheets before going to bed nor their clothes before getting up, and they take it ill if any one should have a fire lighted in the kitchen for this service, or even make use of such fire as may be burning. This was one of the chief causes of wrangling we encountered in the houses where we lodged; indeed, even in the depths of the mountains and forests, where ten thousand feet of pinewood could be bought for less than fifty sous, they were just as ill disposed to let us make a fire as elsewhere. On the Friday morning we departed, and followed the more easy road to the left, instead of taking the mountain path which leads direct to Trent, M. de Montaigne being minded to make a détour of several days in order to visit certain fine cities of Germany; and annoyed that, when at Vanguen, he had altered his plan which he had first made of going direct to Germany, and had taken another route. On our road we saw, as in divers other places, certain water-mills which have water brought to them simply by wooden troughs, which take in the water at the foot of some mountain, and then, being raised and propped high above the ground, discharge the stream down a very steep incline from the end of the last trough. After going a league on the road, we stopped to dine at Frissen.[65]
This is a small Catholic town, belonging to the bishop of Augsburg. We found there numerous members of the train of the Archduke of Austria, who was paying a visit to the Duke of Bavaria in a castle hard by.[66] It was decided to leave there on the banks of the Lech our heavy baggage, and that I and certain others should take them on to Augsburg on a raft, as they term the trunks of trees bound together, which they break up when in harbour. There is an abbey in which they showed to Messieurs a chalice and a stole which they hold to be relics. These belonged to a saint named Magnus,[67] who was, as they declare, the son of a king of Scotland, and a disciple of Columbanus. Pepin founded this monastery for the benefit of this Magnus, whom he made the first abbot. He likewise caused to be written there on the roof of the nave this inscription, and below the same notes of music to which it might be sung: “Comperta virtute beati Magni fama, Pipinus Princeps locum quem Sanctus incoluit regia largitate donavit.” Charlemagne subsequently enriched the place still further, as an inscription in the monastery records. After dinner we all met at Chonguen[68] at bedtime, after a journey of four leagues.
Chonguen is a small town under the Duke of Bavaria, and consequently entirely Catholic; for this prince, beyond any other in Germany, has kept his jurisdiction free from all touch of religious innovation, and is stiffly set in his views. There is excellent lodging at the “Star,” where we found a new fashion at table. On a square board they arrange the salt-cellars from one corner to another, the candlesticks being set between the two other corners, thus forming a Saint Andrew’s cross. They never serve eggs, or at least only when boiled hard and cut in quarters in the salads, which are of the best, the vegetables being quite fresh. The wine is drunk new, as a rule, immediately after it is made. They thresh out the corn in the barns as they may want it, using in this work the heavy end of a flail. On the Saturday we journeyed four leagues and dined at Lanspergs,[69] a small town belonging also to the Duke of Bavaria aforesaid, and situated on the banks of the Lech, the town, the suburbs, and the castle alike exhibiting a remarkably fine aspect. We arrived there on a market day, when the place was crowded with people, and remarked in the middle of a very large square a fountain which sent up water through a hundred pipes to the height of a pike shaft, and scattered the jets in elaborate fashion, according to the manipulation of the pipes. There is a very fine church in the town and another in the suburb, both high up on the hill, which is very steep, and the castle is similarly situated. M. de Montaigne went thither to visit the Jesuit college, finely housed in quite a new building, to which they are about to add a church. M. de Montaigne spent as much time as he had to spare in conversing with the Jesuits.
The Count of Helfenstein[70] was in command at the castle. Here, if any one should favour another religion than the Roman, he would be wise to keep silent thereanent. On the gate between the town and the suburb there is a long inscription in Latin, written in the year 1552, which declares that the Senatus populusque of the town built this monument to the memory of the brothers William and Louis, dukes utriusque Boiariæ. Here there are many conceits after the following fashion: “Horridum militem esse decet, nec auro cœlatum, sed animo et ferro fretum;” and at the top thereof, “Cavea stultorum mundus.” And in another place, very conspicuous, are certain words taken from some Latin historian,[71] concerning the battle which the Consul Marcellus lost to a king of this nation: “Carolami Boiorumque Regis cum Marcello Cos. pugna quâ eum vicit,” &c. Besides these there are divers appropriate mottoes in Latin over the doors of private houses. These people constantly refurbish their towns and churches, which in consequence have a most prosperous look; and, as it happened most seasonably for the amenity of our visit, everything had been newly set in order in this place three or four years before; for they always put the date upon their work. The clock of this town, like those in many other towns in this country, sounds all the quarters; and they say there is one in Nuremburg which sounds the minutes. We left the town after dinner, and after going four leagues over a lengthy plain of pasture, very level, like the plain of La Beausse, we arrived at Augsburg.
AUGSBURG