On the left, as you leave Schmiedeberg, is the Ruheberg, a small castle standing in a bosky park belonging to a Polish prince, where the townsfolk find pleasant walks. Two miles farther, and the leafy slopes of Buchwald appear on the right, embowering another castle, and a park laid out in the English style, and with such advantages of position, among which are fifty-four ponds, that it has become an elysium for the neighbourhood.
Once clear of the town, and the mountain-range opens on the left—rounded heights, ridges, scars, and peaks stretching away for miles on either side of the Koppe. Another hour, and turning from the main road which runs on to Hirschberg, you see houses scattered about the plain, built in the Alpine style, with outside stair and galleries, and broad eaves. We are in the village of Erdmannsdorf—the asylum granted by the King of Prussia to about a hundred Tyrolese families, who, in 1838, had to quit their native country for conscience' sake. They were Protestants hated by their bigoted neighbours, and disliked by the priests; and so became exiles. Nowhere else in Prussia could they have seen mountains at all approaching in grandeur those which look down on their native valley, and yet they must at first have deeply mourned the difference.
Remembering my former year's experiences, I wished to find myself once more among the Tyrolese. True enough, there they were in their picturesque costume, in striking contrast with the Silesians; but there was a degenerate look about the Wirthshaus, as if they had forgotten their original cleanliness, which repelled me, and I went on to the Schweizerhaus, a large inn near the royal Schloss. As usual, it was overfull, so great is the throng of visitors, and I had to try in another direction, which brought me to the Gasthof und Gerichtskretscham, where the landlord promised me a bed if I would not mind sleeping in the billiard-room.
CHAPTER XXV.
Schnaps and Sausage—Dresdener upon Berliners—The Prince's Castle at Fischbach—A Home for the Princess Royal—Is the Marriage Popular?—View from the Tower—Tradition of the Golden Donkey—Royal Palace at Erdmannsdorf—A Miniature Chatsworth—The Zillerthal—Käse and Brod—Stohnsdorf—Famous Beer—Rischmann's Cave—Prophecies—Warmbrunn.
At Fischbach, in a pleasant valley, about an hour's walk from Erdmannsdorf, stands a castle belonging to Prince Wilhelm of Prussia, which is shown to curious tourists. A Dresdener, who thought it worth the trouble of the walk, asked me to accompany him next morning, and we started after an early breakfast. Early as it was a party of Silesian peasants were breaking their fast with Schnaps, sausage, and rye bread. Think of Schnaps and sausage at seven in the morning!
The Dresdener beguiled the way by laughing at the peculiarities of three Berliners, whom we had left behind at the Gasthof. A Prussian cockney, he said, was sure to betray himself as soon as he began to talk, for nothing would satisfy him but the most exalted superlatives. "When you hear," he continued, "a man talk of a thing as gigantic—incomprehensibly beautiful—ravishingly excellent—insignificantly scarcely visible—set him down at once as a Berliner. You heard those three last night, how they went on; as we say in our country, hanging their hats on the topmost pegs. Yracious yoodness! what yiyantic yabble!" And the Saxon cockney laughed as heartily at his own wit as if it had been good enough for Punch.
The castle is an old possession of the Knights Templars, repaired and beautified. It has towers and turrets, and windows of quaint device; a small inner court, and a surrounding moat spanned by a bridge at the entrance. Outside the moat are shady walks and avenues of limes, and the gardens, which did not come up to my notion of what is royal either in fruits or flowers. With plantations on the hills around, and in the park, the whole place has a pleasant bowery aspect.
As we crossed the bridge, there seemed something inhospitable in the sight of two large cannon guarding the entrance; but the portress told us they were trophies from Afghanistan, captured at the battle in which Prince Waldemar was wounded—a present from the British government. The fittings of the room are mostly of varnished pine, to which the furniture and hangings do no violence. There are a few good paintings, among them a portrait of the Queen of Bavaria, which you will remember for beauty above all the rest; nor will you easily forget the marble head copied from the statue of Queen Louisa in the mausoleum at Charlottenburg. From looking at the rarities, the portress called us to hear the singing of an artificial bird, and seemed somewhat disappointed that we did not regard it as the greatest curiosity of all.
"A snug little place," said the Dresdener, as we walked from room to room. "Not quite what your Princess Royal has been used to, perhaps; but she will be able to pass summer holidays here agreeably enough."