"Show us now, worthy Sir, your crypt and church; and then, with pain be it pronounced, we must bid you farewell. Within little more than two hours, darkness will have covered the earth." Such was my remark to the Abbot; who replied: "Say not so: we cannot part with you yet. At any rate you must not go without a testimony of the respect we entertain for the object of your visit. Those who love books, will not object to increase their own stock by a copy of our CHRONICON GOTWICENSE--commenced by one of my learned predecessors, but alas! never completed. Come with me to my room, before we descend to the church, and receive the work in question." Upon which, the amiable Head of the monastery set off, at rather a hurried pace, with myself by the side of him, along several corridors--towards his own apartment, to present me with this Chronicle. I received it with every demonstration of respect--and entreated the Abbot to inscribe a "dono dedit" in the fly leaf, which would render it yet more valuable in my estimation.[108] He cheerfully complied with this request. The courtesy, the frankness, the downright heartiness of feeling with which all this was done--together with the value of the present--rendered it one of the most delightful moments of my existence. I instinctively caught the Abbot's arm, pressed his hand with a cordial warmth between both of mine--and pausing one little moment, exclaimed "Dies hic omninò commemoratione dignus!"
A sort of sympathetic shouting succeeded; for, by this time, the whole of our party had reached the Abbot's rooms. I now requested, to be immediately taken to the church; and within five minutes we were in the crypt. It scarcely merits one word of description on the score of antiquity; and may be, at the farthest, somewhere about three centuries old. The church is small and quite unpretending, as a piece of architecture. On quitting the church, and passing through the last court, or smaller quadrangle, we came to the outer walls: and leaving them, we discerned--below--the horses, carriage, and valet ... waiting to receive us. Our amiable Host and his Benedictin brethren determined to walk a little way down the hill, to see us fairly seated and ready to start. I entreated and remonstrated that this might not be; but in vain. On reaching the carriage, we all shook hands very cordially together, but certainly I pressed those of the Abbot more earnestly than the rest. We then saluted by uncovering; and, stepping into the carriage, I held aloft the first volume of the GÖTTWIC CHRONICLE-- exclaiming ... "Valete, Domini eruditissimi: dies hic commemoratione dignus:" to which the Abbot replied, with peculiarly emphatic sonorousness of voice, "Vale: Deus te, omnesque tibi charissimos, conservet." They then stopped for a moment ... as the horses began to be put in motion ... and retracing their steps up the hill, towards the outer gate of the monastery, disappeared. I thought--but it might not be so--that I discerned the Abbot, at the distance of some two hundred yards, yet lingering alone--with his right arm raised, and shaking it as the last and most affectionate token of farewell.
The evening was serene and mild; and the road, although a cross way, was perfectly sound--winding through a country of fertility and picturesque beauty. We saw few vineyards: but those which met our eyes showed the grape to be in its full purple tint, if not beginning to ripen. I had resolved upon stopping to sleep at Sirghartskirchen within two stages of Vienna--thus avoiding the post town of Perschling, which is situated in the direct road to Vienna from St. Pölten--which latter place, as you may remember, we had left in the morning. Before the darker shades of evening began to prevail, we turned round to catch a farewell glance of the hospitable monastery which we had left behind--and were lucky in viewing it, (scarcely less than seven or eight miles in our rear) just as the outline of its pinnacles could be discerned against a clear, and yet almost brilliant, sky.
It was quite dark, and nearer upon eleven than ten o'clock, when we entered the insignificant post town of Sirghartskirchen--where we stretched our limbs rather than reposed; and after a hasty, but not very ill provided breakfast, the next morning, we pushed on for Burkersdorf, the last post town on that side of Vienna. It may be about nine English miles from Burkersdorf to the capital; of which the greater part is rather agreeable than otherwise. It was here, as in approaching Strasbourg, that I turned my eyes in all directions to catch an early glimpse of the tower of St. Stephen's Cathedral, but in vain. At length, to the right, we saw the magnificent chateau of Schönbrunn.
The road now became flat and sandy, and the plains in the vicinity of the capital destitute of trees. "Voilà la Cathedrale!" shouted the valet. It was to the left, or rather a little in front: of a tapering, spire-like form: but, seeing only a small portion of it--the lower part being concealed by the intervening rising ground--I could form no judgment of its height. We now neared the suburbs, which are very extensive, and swarming with population. I learnt that they entirely surrounded the capital, in an equal state of populousness. The barriers were now approached: and all the fears, which my accidental travelling acquaintance at Augsbourg had put into my head, began to revive and to take possession of me. But what has an honest man to fear? "Search closely (observed I to the principal examining officer) for I suspect that there is something contraband at the bottom of the trunk. Do you forbid the importation of an old Greek manual of devotion?"--said I, as I saw him about to lay his hand upon the precious Aldine volume, of which such frequent mention has been already made. The officer did not vouchsafe even to open the leaves--treating it, questionless, with a most sovereign contempt; but crying, "bah!--vous pouvez bien passer," he replaced the things which he had very slightly discomposed, and added that he wished all contraband articles to consist of similar materials. We parted with mutual smiles; but I thought there lingered something like a feeling of reproach, in the last quiver or turn of his lip, at my not having slipt two or three florins into his hand-- which was broad and brawny enough to have grasped threescore or a hundred. "I will remember you on my return,"--exclaimed I, as the carriage drove off. He gave me a most sceptical shake of the head, as he retreated into his little tenement, like a mastiff into his kennel.
The whole of VIENNA, as it now seemed--with its cathedral, churches, palaces, and ramparts--was before us. As we approached the chief entrance, or gateway, I recognised the Imperial Library; although it was only a back view of it. In truth, it appeared to be just as I remembered it in the vignette-frontispiece of Denis's folio catalogue of the Latin Theological MSS. contained in the same library. My memory proved to be faithful; for we were assured that the building in view was the library in question. It was our intention to take up our quarters at the principal inn, called the Empress of Austria; and, with this view, we drove up to the door of that hotel: but a tall, full-dressed man, with a broad sash across his body, and a silver-tipped staff in his right hand, marched pompously up to the door of the carriage, took off his hat, and informed us with great solemnity that "the hotel was entirely filled, and that his master could not have the honour of entertaining us." On receiving this intelligence, we were comforted by the assurance, on the part of the post-boy and valet, that the second hotel, called the Crown of Hungary,--and situated in the Himelfort Gasse, or Heaven-gate Street--was in every respect as desirable as that which we were compelled to quit. Accordingly we alighted at the door of the Hungarische Krone--equally marvelling, all the way thither, at the enormous size of the houses, and at the narrowness of the streets.
But it is time to terminate this epistle. Yet I must not fail informing you, that every thing strikes me as approximating very much to my own native country. The countenances, the dresses, the manners of the inhabitants, are very nearly English. My apartments are gay as well as comfortable. A green-morocco sofa, beneath a large and curiously cut looking-glass--with chairs having velvet seats, and wainscot and ceiling very elegantly painted and papered--all remind me that I am in a respectable hotel. A strange sight occupied my attention the very first morning after my arrival. As the day broke fully into my room--it might be between five and six o'clock--I heard a great buzzing of voices in the street. I rose, and looking out of window, saw, from one end of the street to the other, a countless multitude of women--sitting, in measured ranks, with pots of cream and butter before them. It was in fact the chief market day for fruit, cream, and butter; and the Himelfort Gasse is the principal mart for the sale of these articles. The weather has recently become milder, and I feel therefore in better trim for the attack upon the IMPERIAL LIBRARY, where I deliver my credentials, or introductory letters, to-morrow. God bless you.
LETTER X.
IMPERIAL LIBRARY. ILLUMINATED MANUSCRIPTS AND EARLY PRINTED BOOKS.
VIENNA; Hotel of the Crown of Hungary, Sept. 9, 1818.