As usual, I ordered a late dinner, intending to pay my respects to the Principal, and obtain permission to inspect the library. My late monastic visits had inspired me with confidence; and I marched up the steep sides of the hill, upon which the monastery is built, quite assured of the success of the visit I was about to pay. You must now accompany the bibliographer to the monastery. In five minutes from entering the outer gate of the first quadrangle--looking towards Vienna, and which is the more ancient part of the building--I was in conversation with the Vice Principal and Librarian, each of us speaking Latin. I delivered the letter which I had received at Salzburg, and proceeded to the library. In proceeding with the Librarian along the first corridor, I passed a portly figure, with an expressive countenance, dressed precisely like the Duke of Norfolk,[102] in black waistcoat, breeches, and stockings, with a gray coat. He might seem to be a sort of small paper copy of that well-known personage, for he resembled him in countenance as well as in dress. On meeting, he saluted me graciously: and he had no sooner passed, than my guide whispered in my ear, "THAT is the famous bibliographer, the ABBÉ STRATTMAN, late principal librarian to the Emperor." I was struck at this intelligence; and wished to run back after the Abbé,--but, in a minute, found myself within the library. I first went into a long, narrow, room--devoted, the greater part, to MSS.:--and at the hither end of which (that is, the end where I entered) were two figures--as large as, and painted after, the life. They were cut out in wood, or thick pasteboard; and were stuck in the centre of the space between the walls. One was an old gentleman, with a pair of bands, and a lady, his wife, opposite to him. Each was sitting upon a chair. A dog (if I remember rightly) was between them. The effect was at first rather startling; for these good folks, although they had been sitting for the best part of a century, looked like life, and as if they were going to rise up, and interrogate you for impertinently intruding upon their privacy. On nearing them, I found that the old gentleman had been a great pedagogue, and a great benefactor to the library: in short, the very MSS. by which we were surrounded were solid proofs of his liberality. I was urgent and particular about the contents of these MSS.; but my guide (otherwise a communicative and well-informed man) answered my questions in a manner so general, as to lead me to conclude that they had never been sufficiently examined. There might be at least four thousand volumes in this long and narrow room.
From thence we proceeded, across a passage, to a small room--filled with common useful books, for the young men of which the monastic society is now composed; and who I learnt were about one hundred and twenty in number. There were, however, at one end of this room, some coins and medals. I was curious about ascertaining whether they had any Greek gold coins, but was answered that they had none. This room is divided into two, by a partition something like the modern fashion of dividing our drawing rooms. The whole is profusely ornamented with paintings executed upon the walls; rather elegantly than otherwise. The view from this library is really enchanting--and put every thing seen, from a similar situation at Landshut, and almost even at Chremsminster, out of my recollection. You look down upon the Danube, catching a fine sweep of the river, as it widens in its course towards Vienna. A man might sit, read, and gaze--in such a situation--till he fancied he had scarcely one earthly want! I now descended a small stair-case, which brought me directly into the large library--forming the right wing of the building, looking up the Danube towards Lintz. I had scarcely uttered three notes of admiration, when the ABBÉ STRATTMAN entered; and to my surprise and satisfaction, addressed me by name. We immediately commenced an ardent unintermitting conversation in the French language, which the Abbé speaks fluently and correctly. We darted at once into the lore of bibliography of the fifteenth century; when the Abbé descanted largely upon the wonders I should see at Vienna:-- especially the Sweynheyms and Pannartz' UPON VELLUM! "Here (continued he) there is absolutely nothing worthy of your inspection. We have here no edit. prin. of Horace, or Virgil, or Terence, or Lucretius: a copy of the Decretals of Pope Boniface, of the date of 1465, is our earliest and only VELLUM treasure of the XVth century. But you will doubtless take the Monastery of Göttwic in your way?" I replied that I was wholly ignorant of the existence of such a monastery. "Then see it--(said, he) and see it carefully; for the library contains Incunabula of the most curious and scarce kind. Besides, its situation is the noblest in Austria." You will give me credit for not waiting for a second importunity to see such a place, before I answered--"I will most assuredly visit the monastery of Göttwic."
I now took a leisurely survey of the library; which is, beyond all doubt, the finest room of its kind which I have seen upon the Continent:--not for its size, but for its style of architecture, and the materials of which it is composed. I was told that it was "the Imperial Library in miniature:"-- but with this difference, let me here add, in favour of Mölk--that it looks over a magnificently-wooded country, with the Danube rolling its rapid course at its base. The wainscot and shelves are walnut tree, of different shades, inlaid, or dovetailed, surmounted by gilt ornaments. The pilasters have Corinthian capitals of gilt; and the bolder or projecting parts of a gallery, which surrounds the room, are covered with the same metal. Every thing is in harmony. This library may be about a hundred feet in length, by forty in width. It is sufficiently well furnished with books, of the ordinary useful class, and was once, I suspect, much richer in the bibliographical lore of the fifteenth century. The Abbé Strattman bade me examine a MS. of Horace, of the twelfth century, which he said had been inspected by Mitscherlich.[103] It seemed to be of the period adjudged to it. The Vice-Principal, M. PALLAS, now made his appearance. He talked French readily, and we all four commenced a very interesting conversation, "Did any books ever travel out of this library?"--said I. "Surely there must be many which are rather objects of curiosity than of utility: rarely consulted, no doubt; but which, by being exchanged for others of a more modern and useful description, would contribute more effectually to the purposes of public education, in an establishment of such magnitude?"
These questions I submitted with great deference, and without the least hesitation, to the Vice Principal; who replied in such a manner as to induce me immediately to ascend the staircase, and commence a reconnaissance among the books placed above the gallery. The result of twenty minutes examination was, if not absolutely of the most gratifying kind, at least sufficient to induce me to offer twenty louis d'or for some thirty volumes, chiefly thin quartos, containing many Greek grammatical and philosophical tracts, of which I had never before seen copies. Some scarce and curious theological Latin tracts were also in this number. I turned the books upon their fore-edges, leaving their ends outwards, in order to indicate those which had been selected. M. Pallas told me that he could say nothing definitive in reply,[104] for that the matter must be submitted to the Prelate, or head of the monastery, who, at that time, was at Vienna, perhaps at the point of death. From the library we went to the church. This latter is situated between the two wings: the wings themselves forming the Saloon and the library. As we were about to leave the library, the Abbé observed--"Here, we have food for the mind: in the opposite quarter we dine--which is food for the body:[105] between both, is the church, which contains food for the soul." On entering the corridor, I looked up and saw the following inscription (from 1 Mac. c. xii. v. 9.) over the library door: "Habentes solatio sanctos libros qui sunt in manibus nostris." My next gratification was, a view of the portrait of BERTHOLDUS DIETMAYR--the founder, or rather the restorer, both of the library and of the monastery-- possessing a countenance full of intelligence and expression. Beneath the portrait, which is scarcely half the size of life, is the following distich:
Bertholdi Dietmayr Quidquid Mortale, Tabella,
Ingentemque animum BIBLIOTHECA, refert.
"There," exclaimed the Abbé Strattman--"there you have the portrait of a truly great man: one of the three select and privy counsellors of the Emperor Charles VI. Dietmayr was a man of a truly lofty soul, of a refined taste, and of unbounded wealth and liberality of spirit. Even longer than this edifice shall last, will the celebrity of its founder endure." My heart overflowed with admiration as I heard the words of the Abbé, gazing, at the same time, intently upon the portrait of the Prelate Dietmayr. Such men keep the balance of this world even.
On reaching the last descending step, just before entering the church, the Vice Principal bade me look upwards and view the cork-screw stair-case. I did so: and to view and admire was one and the same operation of the mind. It was the most perfect and extraordinary thing of the kind which I had ever seen--the consummation (as I was told) of that particular species of art. The church is the very perfection of ecclesiastical Roman architecture: that of Chremsminster, although fine, being much inferior to it in loftiness and richness of decoration. The windows are fixed so as to throw their concentrated light beneath a dome, of no ordinary height, and of no ordinary elegance of decoration; but this dome is suffering from damp, and the paintings upon the ceiling will, unless repaired, be effaced in the course of a few years. The church is in the shape of a cross; and at the end of each of the transepts, is a rich altar, with statuary, in the style of art usual about a century ago. The pews--made of dark mahogany or walnut tree, much after the English fashion, but lower and more tasteful-- are placed on each side of the nave, on entering; with ample space between them. They are exclusively appropriated to the tenants of the monastery. At the end of the nave, you look to the left, opposite,--and observe, placed in a recess--a PULPIT ... which, from top to bottom, is completely covered with gold. And yet, there is nothing gaudy, or tasteless, or glaringly obtrusive, in this extraordinary clerical rostrum. The whole is in the most perfect taste; and perhaps more judgment was required to manage such an ornament, or appendage,--consistently with the splendid style of decoration exacted by the founder--(for it was expressly the Prelate Dietmayr's wish that it should be so adorned) than may, on first consideration, be supposed. In fact, the whole church is in a blaze of gold; and I was told that the gilding alone cost upwards of ninety thousand florins. Upon the whole, I understood that the church of this monastery was considered as the most beautiful in Austria; and I can easily believe it to be so.
The time flew away so quickly that there was no opportunity of seeing the Saloon. Indeed, I was informed that it was occupied by the students--an additional reason why I ought to have seen it. "But have you no old paintings, Mr. Vice Principal--no Burgmairs, Cranachs, or Albert Durers?" said I to M. Pallas. "Ha! (observed he in reply,) you like old pictures, then, as well as old books. Come with me, and you shall be satisfied." So saying, the Abbé Strattman[106] left us, and I followed the Vice Principal- -into a small, wainscoted room, of which he touched the springs of some of the compartments, and anon there was exhibited to my view a series of sacred subjects, relating to the Life of Christ, executed by the first and last named masters: exceedingly fresh, vigorously painted, and one or two of them very impressive, but bordering upon the grotesque. I am not sure that I saw any thing more striking of the kind even in the extraordinary collection at Augsbourg. From this room I was conducted into the Prelate's apartment, where I observed a bed--in an arched recess--which might be called a bed of state. "Our Prelate has left his apartment for the last time; he will never sleep in this bed again"--observed M. Pallas, fixing himself at the foot of it, and directing his eyes towards the pillow. I saw what it was to be beloved and respected; for the Vice Principal took the end of his gown to wipe away a little dust (as he was pleased to call it--but I suspect it was a starting tear) which had fallen into his eye. I was then shewn a set of china, manufactured at Vienna--upon some of the pieces of which were painted views of the monastery. This had been presented to the Prelate; and I was then, as a final exhortation, requested to view the country around me. Need I again remark, that this country was enchantingly fine?
On returning to the inn, and dining, we lingered longer than we were wont to do over our dessert and white wine, when the valet came to announce to us that from thence to St. Pölten was a long stage; and that if we wished to reach the latter before dark, we had not ten minutes to spare. This hint was sufficient: and the ten minutes had scarcely elapsed when we were on the high road to St. Pölten. It was indeed almost with the last glimmer of daylight that we entered this town, yet I could observe, on descending the hill by which we entered it, a stone crucifix, with the usual accompanying group. I resolved to give it a careful examination on the morrow.
The inn at St. Pölten (I think it was the Dolphin) surprised us by its cheerfulness and neatness. The rooms were papered so as to represent gothic interiors, or ornamented gardens, or shady bowers. Every thing was--almost- -as an Englishman could wish it to be. Having learnt that the MONASTERY OF GÖTTWIC was a digression of only some twelve or fourteen miles, I resolved to set off to visit it immediately after an early breakfast. We had scarcely left the town, when we observed a group of rustics, with a crucifix carried in front--indicating that they were about to visit some consecrated spot, for the purpose of fulfilling a vow or performing an annual pilgrimage. I stopped the carriage, to take a survey of so novel a scene; but I confess that there was nothing in it which induced me to wish to be one of the party. If I mistake not, this was the first pilgrimage or procession, of the kind, which I had seen in Austria, or even in Bavaria. It was a sorry cavalcade. Some of the men, and even women, were without shoes and stockings; and they were scattered about the road in a very loose, straggling manner. Many of the women wore a piece of linen, or muslin, half way up their faces, over the mouth; and although the road was not very smooth, both men and women appeared to be in excellent spirits, and to move briskly along--occasionally singing, and looking up to the crucifix--which a stout young man carried at the head of them. They were moving in the direction of the Monastery of Göttwic.