A Bibliographical, Antiquarian and Picturesque Tour in France and Germany Volume III Part 9

James's Place. There were at least ten copies of the early Block Books; of which the _Ars Memorandi_ and the _Anti-Christ_ (with extracts inserted in the latter from the B.S.) appeared to be the more ancient and interesting.

But I must not forget to mention a very indifferent and imperfect copy of the _Latin Bible of Fust_, of 1462, UPON VELLUM. A few leaves in each volume are wanting. Here too I saw the _Pfarzival_ of 1477 (as at Strasbourg) printed in a metrical form.

As I got among the books of the _sixteenth_ century, I was much more gratified with the result of my researches. I will begin with a very choice article: which is nothing less than a copy of the _Complutensian Polyglott_, purchased by Eckius, in 1521, of the celebrated Demetrius Chalcondylas--as the following coeval ms. memorandum attests: "Rome empta biblia ista P Eckium P xiiij ducatis largis a Demetrio Calcondyla anno 1521; mortuo iam Leone Papa in Decembri." The death of Leo is here particularly mentioned, because, during his life, it is said that that Pontiff prohibited the sale of the work in question. The copy is fair and sound; but both this, and a duplicate copy, wants the sixth volume, being the Dictionary or Vocabulary. The mention of Eckius leads me to notice a little anecdote connected with him. He was, as you may have read, one of the most learned, most eloquent, and most successful of Luther's antagonists. He was also the princ.i.p.al theological Professor in the University of Ingoldstadt. They preserve at Landshut, brought from the former place, the chair and the doctor's cap of their famous Anti-Lutheran champion. You see both of these in one of the princ.i.p.al apartments of the Public Library. I was requested to sit in the chair of the renowned Eckius, and to put his doctorial bonnet upon my head. I did both:--but, if I had sat for a century to come, I should never have fancied myself Eckius ...

for more reasons than _one_.

The Sub Librarian, who is a Catholic, (Professor Siebenkees being a Protestant) has shewn great good sense in preserving all the tracts, which have fallen in his way, both _for_ and _against_ the Lutheran controversy.

You go between two small book-cases, or sets of shelves, and find _Luther_ in front, and _Eckius_ and his followers in the rear of you; or vice versa.

A considerable number of rare and curious little pieces of _Erasmus_ and _Melancthon_, are mixed in this collection, which is far from being small either in number or value. In this interesting collection, I saw a good copy of Ross's work against Luther, of the date of 1523, which appeared to me to be printed by Pynson.[82] It had the autograph of Sir Thomas More--("_Thom^{9} mor^{9}"--_) who indeed is said to have been the author of the work. This very copy belonged to Eckius, and was given to him by the author, when Eckius came over to England in 1525: the fact being thus attested in the hand-writing of the latter: "_Codex iste dono datus est mihi Johanni Eckio ab illius autore in Anglia, dum visendi cupidus in Insulam traiecissem, 1525, Augusto x_." The worthy Professor next put into my hands what he considered to be an _absolutely unique_ copy of _Der Veis Ritter_, in 1514, folio: adding, that no other copy of the adventures of the _White Knight_, of the _same_ date, was known to bibliographers. I a.s.sented to the observation--equally from courtesy and sheer ignorance. But surely this is somewhat difficult to believe.

There was nothing further that demanded a distinct registry; and so, making my bow, and shaking hands with the worthy Librarian very heartily, I quitted this congenial spot;--not however before I had been introduced to a Professor of botany (whose name has now escaped me) who was busily engaged in making extracts in the reading room, with a short pipe by the side of him, and a small red ta.s.selled cap upon his head. He had an expressive countenance; understood our language so as to read Shakespeare with facility, and even with rapture: and to a question of mine, whether he was not much gratified with Schlegel's critical remarks upon that dramatist, he replied, that "he did not admire them so much, as, from the Edinburgh Review, the English appeared to do." To another question--"which of Shakspeare's plays pleased him most?" he replied, unhesitatingly, "_Romeo and Juliet_." I own, I should have thought that the mystical, or philosophy-loving, brain of a German would have preferred _Hamlet_.

On leaving the library, I surveyed the town with tolerably minute attention. After Munich, it appeared sufficiently small. Its population indeed scarcely exceeds 8000. The day turned out very beautiful, and my first and princ.i.p.al attention was directed to _St. Martin's Church_; of which the tower (as I think I before told you) is considered to be full 420 feet in height, and the loftiest in Bavaria. But its height is its princ.i.p.al boast. Both in detail, and as a whole, the architecture is miserably capricious and tasteless. It is built of red brick. Many of the monuments in the church-yard, but more particularly some mural ones, struck me as highly characteristic of the country. Among these rude specimens of sculpture, the representation of _Our Saviour's Agony in the Garden_--the favourite subject in Bavaria--was singularly curious to a fresh eye. It may be between two and three hundred years old; but has suffered no injury.

They have, in the princ.i.p.al street, covered walks, for foot-pa.s.sengers, in a piazza-fas.h.i.+on, a little resembling those at Chester: but neither so old nor so picturesque. The intermixture of rural objects, such as trees and gra.s.s plats--in the high street of Landshut--renders a stroll in the town exceedingly agreeable to the lover of picturesque scenery. The booths and stalls were all getting ready for the fair--which I learnt was to last nearly a fortnight: and which I was too thankful to have escaped.

We left Landshut on a fine sun-s.h.i.+ning afternoon, purposing to sleep at the second stage--_Neumarkt_--(Angl. "Newmarket") in the route to Salzburg.

_Neumarkt_ is little better than a small village, but we fared well in every respect at the princ.i.p.al, if not the only, inn in the place. Our beds were even luxurious. Neumarkt will be quickly forgotten: but the following stage--or _Altoting_--will not be so easily banished from our recollection.

We reached it to a late breakfast--after pa.s.sing through the most fertile and beautifully varied country which I had yet seen--and keeping almost constantly in view the magnificent chain of the Tyrolese mountains, into the very heart of which we seemed to be directing our course. ALToTING is situated upon an eminence. We drove into the Place, or Square, and alighted at what seemed to be a large and respectable inn. Two ladies and two gentlemen had just arrived before us, from Munich, by a different route: and while I was surveying them, almost mistaking them for English, and had just exchanged salutations, my valet came and whispered in my ear that "these good folks were come on a pilgrimage to the shrine of the _Black Virgin_." While I was wondering at this intelligence, the valet continued: "you see that small church in the centre of the square--it is _there_ where the richest shrine in Bavaria is deposited; and to-day is a 'high day' with the devotees who come to wors.h.i.+p." On receiving this information, we all three prepared to visit this mean-looking little church. I can hardly describe to you with sufficient accuracy, the very singular, and to me altogether new, scene which presented itself on reaching the church. There is a small covered way--in imitation of cloisters--which goes entirely round it. The whole of the interior of these cloisters is covered with little pictures, images, supposed relics--and, in short votive offerings of every description, to the Holy Virgin, to whom the church is dedicated. The wors.h.i.+ppers believe that the mother of Christ was an _African_ by birth, and therefore you see little black images of the virgin stuck up in every direction. At first, I mistook the whole for a parcel of p.a.w.nbrokers shops near each other: and eyed the several articles with a disposition, more or less, to become a purchaser of a few.

But the sound of the chant, and the smell of the frankincense, broke in upon my speculations, and called my attention to the interior. I entered with a sort of rush of the congregation. This interior struck me as being scarcely thirty feet by twenty; but the eye is a deceitful rule in these cases. However, I continued to advance towards the altar; the heat, at the same time, being almost suffocating. An iron grating separated the little chapel and shrine of our _Black Lady_ from the other portion of the building; and so numerous, so constant, and apparently so close, had been the pressure and friction of each succeeding congregation, for probably more than two centuries, that some of these rails, or bars, originally at least one inch square, had been worn to _half_ the size of their pristine dimensions. It was with difficulty, on pa.s.sing them, that I could obtain a peep at the altar; which, however, I saw sufficiently distinctly to perceive that it was entirely covered with silver vases, cups, dishes, and other _solid_ proofs of devotional ardour--which in short seemed to reach to the very roof. Having thus far gratified my curiosity, I retreated as quickly as possible; for not a window was open, and the little light which these windows emitted, together with the heat of the place, produced so disagreeable an effect as to make me apprehensive of sudden illness. On reaching the outward door, and enjoying the freedom of respiration, I made a sort of secret, but natural vow, that I would never again visit the shrine of _Our Black Lady_ on a festival day.

An excellent breakfast--together with the neatness and civility of the female attendants--soon counter-acted the bad effects of the hydrogen contained within the walls of the place of wors.h.i.+p we had just quitted.

Every thing around us wore a cheerful and pleasing aspect; inasmuch as every thing reminded us of our own country. The servants were numerous, and all females; with their hair braided in a style of elegance which would not have disgraced the first drawing-room in London. We quaffed coffee out of cups which were perfectly of the Brobdignagian calibre; and the bread had the lightness and sweetness of cake. Between eleven and twelve, Charles Rohfritsch (alias our valet) announced that the carriage and horses were at the door; and on springing into it, we bade adieu to the worthy landlady and her surrounding attendants, in a manner quite natural to travellers who have seen something very unusual and interesting, and who have in other respects been well satisfied with good fare, and civil treatment. Not one of the circle could speak a word of French; so I told Charles to announce to them that we would not fail to spread the fame of their coffee, eggs, and bread, all over England! They laughed heartily--and then gave us a farewell salutation ... by dropping very-formal curtesies--their countenances instantly relapsing into a corresponding gravity of expression.

In three minutes the inn, the square, and the church of the _Black Virgin_, were out of sight. The postilion put his bugle to his mouth, and played a lively air--in which the valet immediately joined. The musical infatuation, for an instant, extended to ourselves; for it was a tune which we had often heard in England, and which reminded me, in particular, of days of past happiness--never to return! But the sky was bright, the breeze soft, the road excellent, and the view perfectly magnificent. It was evident that we were now nearing the Tyrolese mountains. "At the foot of yonder second, sharp-pointed hill, lies SALZBURG"--said the valet: on receiving his intelligence from the post-boy. We seemed to be yet some twenty miles distant. To the right of the hill pointed out, the mountains rose with a loftier swell, and, covered by snow, the edges or terminations of their summits seemed to melt into the sky.

Our road now became more hilly, and the time flew away quickly, without our making an apparently proportionate progress towards Salzburg. At length we reached _Burckhausen_; which is flanked by the river _Salz_ on one side, and defended by a lofty citadel on the other. It struck us, upon the whole, as rather a romantic spot: but the road, on entering the town, is in some places fearfully precipitous. The stratum was little better than rock. We were not long in changing horses, and made off instantly for _t.i.ttmaning_; the last stage but one on that side of Salzburg. The country wore a more pleasing aspect. Stately trees spread their dark foliage on each side of the road; between the stems, and through the branches of which, we caught many a "spirit-stirring" view of the mountains in the neighbourhood of Salzburg--which, on our nearer approach, seemed to have attained double their first grandeur. After having changed horses at _t.i.ttmaning_, and enjoyed a delightfully picturesque ride from Burckhausen thither, we dined at the following stage, _Lauffen_; a poor, yet picturesque and wildly-situated, large village. While the dinner was preparing, I walked to the extremity of the street where the inn is situated, and examined a small church, built there upon high ground. The cloisters were very striking; narrow and low, but filled with mural monuments, of a singular variety of character. It was quite evident, from numberless exhibitions of art--connected with religious wors.h.i.+p--along the road-side, or attached to churches--that we had now entered a territory quite different from that of Baden, Wirtemberg, and even the northern part of Bavaria. Small crucifixes, and a representation of the _Agony in the Garden_, &c, presented themselves frequently to our view; and it seemed as if Austria were a land of even greater superst.i.tion than Bavaria.

On concluding our dinner, and quitting Lauffen, it grew dusk, and the rain began to fall in a continued drizzling shower. "It always rains at Salzburg, sir," said the valet--repeating the information of the post boy.

This news made us less cheerful on leaving Lauffen than we were on quitting _Altoting_: but "hope travelled through"--even till we reached the banks of the river Salz, within a mile or two of Salzburg--where the Austrian dominions begin, and those of Bavaria terminate. Our carriage was here stopped, and the trunks were examined, very slightly, on each side of the river. The long, wooden, black and yellow-striped bar of Austria--reaching quite across the road--forbade further progress, till such examination, and a payment of four or five florins, as the barrier-tax,--had been complied with. I had imagined that, if our trunks had been examined on _one_ side of the water, there needed no examination of them on the _other_; unless we had had intercourse with some water fiend in the interval. It seemed, however, that I reasoned illogically. We were detained full twenty minutes, by a great deal of pompous palaver--signifying nothing--on the part of the Austrian commissioner; so that it was quite dark when we entered the barriers of the town of Salzburg:--mountains, trees, meadows, and rivulets having been long previously obliterated from our view.

The abrupt ascents and descents of the streets--and the quivering reflection of the lights from the houses, upon the surface of the river _Salz_--soon convinced us that we were entering a very extraordinary town.

But all was silent: neither the rattling of carriages, nor the tread of foot-pa.s.sengers, nor the voice of the labourer, saluted our ear on entering Salzburg--when we drove briskly to the _Golden-Schiff_, in the _Place de la Cathedrale_, whence I am now addressing you. This inn is justly considered to be the best in the town; but what a melancholy reception--on our arrival! No rush of feet, no display of candles, nor elevation of voices, nor ringing of the bell--- as at the inns on our great roads in England--but ... every body and every, thing was invisible. Darkness and dulness seemed equally to prevail. One feeble candle at length glimmered at the extremity of a long covered arch-way, while afterwards, to the right, came forward two men--with what seemed to be a farthing candle between them, and desired to know the object of our halting? "Beds, and a two-day's residence in your best suite of apartments," replied I quickly--for they both spoke the French language. We were made welcome by one of them, who proved to be the master, and who helped us to alight. A long, and latterly a wet journey, had completely fatigued us--and after mounting up one high stair-case, and rambling along several loosely-floored corridors--we reached our apartments, which contained each a very excellent bed. Wax candles were placed upon the tables: a fire was lighted: coffee brought up; and a talkative, and civil landlord soon convinced us that we had no reason to grumble at our quarters.[83]

On rising the next morning, we gazed upon almost every building with surprise and delight; and on catching a view of the CITADEL--in the back ground, above the Place de la Cathedrale--it seemed as if it were situated upon an eminence as lofty as Quito. I quickly sought the _Monastery of St.

Peter_;--the oldest in the Austrian dominions. I had heard, and even read about its library; and imagined that I was about to view books, of which no bibliographer had ever yet--even in a vision--received intelligence. But you must wait a little ere I take you with me to that monastic library.

There is a pleasing chime of bells, which are placed outside of a small cupola in the _Place_, in which stands the cathedral. I had heard this chime during the night--when I would rather have heard ... any thing else.

What struck me the first thing, on looking out of window, was, the quant.i.ty of gra.s.s--such as Ossian describes within the walls of _Belcluthah_--growing between the pavement in the square. "Wherefore was this?" "Sir, (replied the master of the Golden Schiff) this town is undergoing a gradual and melancholy depopulation. Before the late war, there were 27,000 inhabitants in Salzburg: at present, there are scarcely 15,000. This _Place_ was the constant resort of foreigners as well as townsmen. They filled every portion of it. Now, you observe there is only a narrow, worn walk, which gives indication of the route of a few straggling pedestrians. Even the very chimes of yonder bells (which must have _delighted_ you so much at every third hour of the night!) have lost their pleasing tone;--and sound as if they foreboded still further desolation to Salzburg." The man seemed to feel as he spoke; and I own that I was touched by so animated and unexpected a reply.

I examined two or three old churches, of the Gothic order, of which I have already forgotten the names--unless they be those of _Ste. Trinite_ and _St. Sebastien_. In one of them--it being a festival--there was a very crowded congregation; while the priest was addressing his flock from the steps of the altar, in a strain of easy and impa.s.sioned eloquence. Wherever I went--and upon almost whatever object I gazed--there appeared to be traces of curious, if not of remote, antiquity. Indeed the whole town abounds with such--among which are some Roman relics, which have been recently (1816) described by Goldenstein, in a quarto volume published here, and written in the German language.[84]

But you are impatient for the MONASTERY OF ST. PETER.[85] Your curiosity shall be no longer thwarted; and herewith I proceed to give you an account of my visit to that venerable and secluded spot--the abode of silence and of sanct.i.ty. It was my first appearance in a fraternity of MONKS; and those of the order of ST. BENEDICT. I had no letter of recommendation; but, taking my valet with me, I knocked at the outer gate--and received immediate admission within some ancient and low cloisters: of which the pavement consisted entirely of monumental slabs. The valet sought the librarian, to make known my wishes of examining the library; and I was left alone to contemplate the novel and strange scene which presented itself on all sides. There were two quadrangles, each of sufficiently limited dimensions. In the first, there were several young Monks playing at skittles in the centre of the lawn. Both the bowl and pins were of unusually large dimensions, and the direction of the former was confined within boards, fixed in the earth. These athletic young Benedictins (they might be between twenty and thirty years of age) took little or no notice of me; and while my eye was caught by a monumental tablet, which presented precisely the same coat-armour as the device used by Fust and Schoeffher,--and which belonged to a family that had been buried about two hundred and fifty years--the valet returned, and announced that the Princ.i.p.al of the College desired to see me immediately.

I obeyed the summons in an instant, and followed Rohfritsch up stairs.

There, on the first floor, a middle-aged monk received me, and accompanied me to the chamber of the President. On rapping at the door with his knuckles, a hollow but deep-toned voice commanded the visitor to enter. I was introduced with some little ceremony, but was compelled, most reluctantly, to have recourse to Latin, in conversing with the Princ.i.p.al.

He rose to receive me very graciously; and I think I never before witnessed a countenance which seemed to _tell_ of so much hard f.a.gging and meditation. He must have read every _Father_, in the _editio princeps_ of his works. His figure and physiognomical expression bespoke a rapid approach to the grand climacteric of human life. The deeply-sunk, but large and black, beaming eye--the wan and shrivelled cheek--the nose, somewhat aquiline, with nostrils having all the severity of sculpture--sharp, thin lips--an indented chin--and a highly raised forehead, surmounted by a little black silk cap--(which was taken off on the first salutation) all, added to the gloom of the place, and the novelty of the costume, impressed me in a manner not easily to be forgotten. My visit was very short, as I wished it to be; and it was concluded with an a.s.surance, on the part of the Princ.i.p.al, that the librarian would be at home on the following day, and ready to attend me to the library:--but, added the Princ.i.p.al, on parting, "we have nothing worthy of the inspection of a traveller who has visited the libraries of Paris and Munich. At Molk, you will see fine books, and a fine apartment for their reception."

For the sake of _keeping_, in the order of my narrative, I proceed to give you an account of the visit to the library, which took place on the morrow, immediately after breakfast. It had rained the whole of the preceding night, and every hill and mountain about Salzburg was obscured by a continuation of the rain on the following day. I began to think the postilion spoke but too true, when he said "it always rains at Salzburg."

Yet the air was oppressive; and huge volumes of steam, as from a cauldron, rose up from the earth, and mingled with the descending rain. In five minutes, I was within the cloisters of the monastery, and recognised some of the _skittling_ young monks--whom I had seen the day before. One of them addressed me very civilly, in the French language, and on telling him the object of my visit, he said he would instantly conduct me to Mr. GAERTNER, the librarian. On reaching the landing place, I observed a long corridore--where a somewhat venerable Benedictin was walking, apparently to and fro, with a bunch of keys in one hand, and a thick embossed-quarto under his other arm. The very sight of him reminded me of good _Michael Neander_, the abbot of the monastery of St. Ildefonso--the friend of Budaeus[86]--of whom (as you may remember) there is a print in the _Rerum Germanicarum Scriptores_, published in 1707, folio.

"That, Sir, is the librarian:"--observed my guide: "he waits to receive you." I walked quickly forward and made obeisance. Anon, one of the larger keys in this said bunch was applied to a huge lock, and the folding and iron-cramped doors of the library were thrown open. I descended by a few steps into the ante-room, and from thence had a completely fore-shortened view of the library. It is small, but well filled, and undoubtedly contains some ancient and curious volumes: but several _hiatuses_ gave indication that there had been a few transportations to Vienna or Munich. The small gothic windows were open, and the rain now absolutely descended in torrents. Nevertheless, I went quickly and earnestly to work. A few slight ladders were placed against the shelves, in several parts of the library, by means of which I left no division unexplored. The librarian, after exchanging a few words very pleasantly, in the French language, left me alone, unreservedly to prosecute my researches. I endeavoured to benefit amply by this privilege; but do not know, when, in the course of three or four hours, I have turned over the leaves of so many volumes ... some of which seemed to have been hardly opened since they were first deposited there ... to such little purpose.

However, he is a bad sportsman who does not hit _something_ in a well-stocked cover; and on the return of the librarian, he found me busily engaged in laying aside certain volumes--with a written list annexed--"which might _possibly_, be disposed of ... for a valuable consideration?" "Your proposal shall be attended to, but this cannot be done immediately. You must leave the _consideration_ to the Princ.i.p.al and the elder brethren of the monastery." I was quite charmed by this response; gave my address, and taking a copy of the list, withdrew. I enclose you the list or catalogue in question.[87] Certainly I augur well of the result: but no early _Virgil_, nor _Horace_, nor _Ovid_, nor _Lucretius_, nor even an early _Greek Bible_ or _Testament_! What struck me, on the score of rarity, as most deserving of being secured, were some little scarce grammatical and philological pieces, by the French scholars of the early part of the sixteenth century; and some controversial tracts about Erasmus, Luther, and Eckius.

So much for the monastic visit to St. Peter's at Salzburg; and yet you are not to quit it, without learning from me that this town was once famous for other similar establishments[88]--which were said anciently to vie with the greater part of those in Austria, for respectability of character, and amplitude of possessions. At present, things of this sort seem to be hastening towards a close, and I doubt whether the present princ.i.p.al will have half a dozen successors. It remains only to offer a brief sketch of some few other little matters which took place at Salzburg; and then to wish you good bye--as our departure is fixed for this very afternoon. We are to travel from hence through a country of mountains and lakes, to the _Monastery of Chremsminster_, in the route to Lintz--on the high road to Vienna. I have obtained a letter to the Vice-President of _Molk monastery_, from a gentleman here, who has a son under his care; so that, ere I reach the capital of Austria, I shall have seen a pretty good sprinkling of _Benedictins_--as each of these monasteries is of the order of St.

Benedict.

The evening of the second day of our visit here, enabled me to ascertain something of the general character of the scenery contiguous to the town.

This scenery is indeed grand and interesting. The summit of the lowest hill in the neighbourhood is said to be 4000 feet above the level of the sea. I own I have strong doubts about this. It is with the heights of mountains, as with the numbers of books in a great library,--we are apt to over-rate each. However, those mountains, which seem to be covered with perennial snow, must be doubtless 8000 feet above the same level.[89] To obtain a complete view of them, you must ascend some of the nether hills. This we intended to do--but the rain of yesterday has disappointed all our hopes.

The river _Salz_ rolls rapidly along; being fed by mountain torrents. There are some pretty little villas in the neighbourhood, which are frequently tenanted by the English; and one of them, recently inhabited by Lord Stanhope, (as the owner informed me,) has a delightful view of the citadel, and the chain of snow-capt mountains to the left. The numerous rapid rivulets, flowing into the Salz, afford excellent trout-fis.h.i.+ng; and I understood that Sir Humphry Davy, either this summer, or the last, exercised his well-known skill in this diversion here. The hills abound with divers sorts of four-footed and winged game; and, in short, (provided I could be furnished with a key of free admission into the library of St.

Peter's Monastery) I hardly know where I could pa.s.s the summer and autumn months more completely to my satisfaction than at SALZBURG. What might not the pencils of Turner and Calcott here accomplish, during the mellow lights and golden tints of autumn?

Of course, in a town so full of curiosities of every description, I am not able, during so short a stay in it, to transmit you any intelligence about those sights which are vulgarly called the _Lions_. But I must not close this rambling, desultory letter, without apprising you that I have walked from one end of the _Monschberg_ to the other. This is an excavation through a hard and high rocky hill, forming the new gate, or entrance into the town. The success of this bold undertaking was as complete, as its utility is generally acknowledged: nor shall it tarnish the l.u.s.tre of the _mitre_ to say, that it was a BISHOP of Salzburg who conceived, and superintended the execution of, the plan. A very emphatic inscription eternises his memory: "TE SAXA LOQUUNTUR." The view, from the further end of it, is considered to be one of the finest in Europe: but, when I attempted to enjoy it, every feature of the landscape was obscured by drizzling rain. "It always rains at Salzburg!"--said, as you may remember, the postilion from Lauffen. It may do so: but a gleam of _suns.h.i.+ne_ always enlivens that moment, when I subscribe myself, as I do now, your affectionate and faithful friend.

[77] See vol. i. p. 199.

[78] It is thus ent.i.tled: _Bibliothecae Ingolstadiensis Incunabula Typographica_, 1787, 4to.: containing four parts. A carefully executed, and indispensably necessary, volume in every bibliographical collection.

[79] [I rejoice to add, in this edition of my Tour, that the LOST SHEEP has been FOUND. It had not straggled from the fold when I was at Landshut; but had got _penned_ so snugly in some unfrequented corner, as not to be perceived.]

[80] [A vision, however, which AGAIN haunts me!]

[81] This copy has since reached England, and has been arrayed in a goodly coat of blue morocco binding. Whether it remain in Cornhill at this precise moment, I cannot take upon me to state; but I can confidently state that there is _not a finer copy_ of the edition in question in his Britannic Majesty's united dominions. [This copy now--1829--ceases to exist... in Cornhill.]

[82] On consulting the _Typog. Antiquities_, vol. ii. p. 510, I found my conjectures confirmed. The reader will there see the full t.i.tle of the work--beginning thus: "_Eruditissimi Viri Guilelmi Rossei opus elegans, doctum, festiuum, pium, quo pulcherrime retegit, ac refellit, insanas Lutheri calumnias," &c._ It is a volume of considerable rarity.

[83] The charges were moderate. A bottle of the best red ordinary wine (usually--the best in every respect) was somewhere about 1s. 6d. Our lodgings, two good rooms, including the charge of three wax candles, were about four s.h.i.+llings per day. The bread was excellent, and the _cuisine_ far from despicable.

[84] We learn from Pez (_Austriacar. Rer._ vol. ii. col. 185, taken from the Chronicle of the famous _Admont Monastery_,) that, in the year 1128, the cathedral and the whole city of Salzburg were destroyed by fire. So, that the antiquity of this, and of other relics, must not be pushed to too remote a period.

[85] Before the reader commences the above account of a visit to this monastery, he may as well be informed that the SUBJOINED bird's-eye view of it, together with an abridged history (compiled from Trithemius, and previous chroniclers) appears in the _Monasteriologia of Stengelius_, published in 1619, folio.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

The monastery is there described as--"et vetustate et dignitate nulli e Germaniae monasteriis secundum." Rudbertus is supposed to have been its founder:--"repertis edificiis basilicam in honore SANCTI PETRI construxit:" _Chronicon Norimberg._ fol. cliii.; edit. 1493. But this took place towards the end of the sixth century. From G.o.dfred's _Chronicon Gotvvicense_, 1732, folio, pt. i. pp. 37, 39, 52--the library of this Monastery, there called "antiquissima," seems to have had some very ancient and valuable MSS. In Stengelius's time, (1620) the monastery appears to have been in a very flouris.h.i.+ng condition.

[86] As it is just possible the reader may not have a very distinct recollection of this worthy old gentleman, and ambulatory abbot--it may be acceptable to him to know, that, in the _Thanatologia of Budaeus_ (incorporated in the _Tres Selecti Scriptores Rerum Germanicarum_, 1707, folio, p. 27, &c.) the said Neander is described as a native of Sorau, in Bohemia, and as dying in his 70th year, A.D. 1595, having been forty-five years Princ.i.p.al of the monastery of St. Ildefonso. A list of his works, and a laudatory Greek epigram, by Budaeus, "UPON HIS EFFIGY," follow.

[87] For the sake of juxta-position I here lay before the reader a short history of the issue, or progress of the books in question to their present receptacle, in St. James's Place. A few days after reaching _Vienna_, I received the following "pithy and pleasant" epistle from the worthy librarian, "Mon tres-reverend Pasteur. En esperant que vous etes arrive a Vienne, a bon port, j'ai l'honneur de declarer a vous, que le prix fixe des livres, que vous avez choisi, et dont la table est ajoutee, est 40 louis d'or, ou 440 florins. Agreez l'a.s.surance, &c."

[Autographs]

I wrote to my worthy friend Mr. Nockher at Munich to settle this subject immediately; who informed me, in reply, that the good monks would not part with a single volume till they had received "the money upon the nail,"--"l'argent comptant." That dexterous negotiator quickly supplied them with the same; received the case of books; and sent them down the Rhine to Holland, from thence to England: where they arrived in safe and perfect condition. They are all described in the second volume of the _aedes Athorpianae_; together with a beautiful fac-simile of an illuminated head, or portrait, of _Gaieta.n.u.s de Tienis_, who published a most elegantly printed work upon Aristotle's four books of Meteors, _printed by Maufer_, in 1476, folio; and of which the copy in the Salzburg library was adorned by the head (just mentioned) of the Editor. _aed.

Althorp._ vol. ii. p. 134. Among the books purchased, were two exquisite copies, filled with wood cuts, relating to the aesopian Fables: a copy of one of which, ent.i.tled _aesopus Moralisatus_, was, I think, sold at the sale of the Duke of Marlborough's books, in 1819, for somewhere about 13l.

[88] In Hartmann Schedel's time, Salzburg--which was then considered as the CAPITAL OF BAVARIA--"was surrounded by great walls, and was adorned by many beautiful buildings of temples and monasteries." A view of Salzburg, which was formerly called JUVAVIA, is subjoined in the _Nuremberg Chronicle_, fol. CLIII. _edit._ 1493. Consult also the _Chronicon Gotvvicense_, 1732, folio, pt. ii. p.

760--for some particulars respecting the town taking its name from the river _Juvavia_ or _Igonta_. Salzburg was an Archbishopric founded by Charlemagne: see the _Script. Rer. German._ edited by _Nida.n.u.s et Struvius_, 1726 folio, vol. i. p. 525.