Part 8

_Tuesday, 30th._--Hechingen, the first post from where we slept, the seat of the King of Prussia’s family, the Counts of Hohenzollern. They possess a small principality, the revenues of which are 7000_l._ per annum, yet the great Frederick was descended from a younger branch of this petty prince. A lively Frenchman said, ‘Parbleu, voilà un cadet qui a fait fortune.’ The castle stands upon a high and steep hill. They tell a story of one of its princes seeing from its terrace the rich country of Würtemberg, and saying, ‘What an addition would the _petit_ canton of Würtemberg be to the territory of Hohenzollern.’ We dined there. Just entering Tübingen the country pretty: woods inclining to a valley, watered by a little rill. Tübingen appears to have been new built, but still in that terrible taste which prevails all over Lower Germany. Black beams placed crossways and the interstices filled up with plaster, high roofs, gable ends, and two or three stories of garret windows in the roof; the whole gives a mean appearance and disfigures a town as much as the style of English architecture, though this has the superiority, as the houses have the advantage of being _spacious_. A filthy, disgusting practice prevails here, that of placing the dunghills precisely in front of their houses. In the towns they are in a line with the bench before the house, on which they sit smoking and regaling themselves after dinner; in the villages, they are in the middle of the streets, and it requires some skill in the postillions to steer safely between them. Beyond Tübingen a noble forest of immense extent, part of the Hercynian; it is full of fine oaks. I cannot make myself in the least understood in the language of which Pope says:--

Language which Boreas might to Auster hold, More rough than forty Germans when they scold.

I cannot connect two words so as to form the simplest sentence. We reached Stuttgart at 12 o’clock at night.

Lord Mulgrave passed in his way to Milan: some official business carries him. Custine is sent to the Abbey [_sic_], which is the first step towards the scaffold.[83] Mayence fell on ye 25th.

_31st July._--A Scotch gentleman of the name of Stuart, brother to Mrs. Hippisley, showed me everything to be seen. The Academy, a noble institution for young military. The Duke[84] was very extravagant formerly, but he has adopted many salutary reforms. The palace is very grand: it was made in his days of splendour. He has now abandoned this place and Louisbourg[85] and lives totally at Hohenheim, a _château_ upon which he has also spent immense sums. His cruelty is checked by his Duchess, a good woman; but his marriage with her was a _mésalliance_.

[Sidenote: FALL OF MAYENCE]

Mayence surrendered upon capitulation: ye 22nd the Prussians marched in. They endeavoured to persuade the Elector to return, but he was afraid to trust himself among his loyal subjects. Beauharnais had a bloody battle with the army of observation. He was trying to succour Mayence: victory was wavering for some hours, but he did not attain his object, consequently was defeated. We slept at Louisbourg about twelve miles from Stuttgart; the palace and gardens are sumptuous, the Opera house is the largest in Europe. Here in former times Vestris and Noverre tripped upon the light fantastic toe to the admiration and gawky imitation of the clumsy German. To-morrow we shall reach Heidelberg.

_1st August, Thursday._--Left Louisbourg at 6 o’clock. Heilbronn, a free Imperial city, very dull, and declining; the Neckar runs by it. Open corn country. I did not visit the Tun, so extolled for its size; I passed a most restless night on account of the myriads of little white bugs. Got to Mannheim at 12. The whole town is animated, a garrison in the town of 6000 men, bodies of troops passing through, couriers coming and going. All too evidently proves the vicinity to the seat of war, but though a _little_ alarming, yet one feels hurried on by an interesting curiosity. The town is beautiful; large stone buildings, fine wide streets, and all the objects cheerful and pleasing. The Gallery contains many fine pictures, some charming _Murillos_; and good Flemish artists have contributed. The Cabinet has some beautiful specimens of mineralogy. At Valenciennes poor Tollemache[86] was killed in the trenches. He is Ly. Bridget’s only son; a spent bomb struck against his bowels and he expired the next day. We go to-morrow to Mayence, which I expect to find a heap of ruins.

_Saturday, Mannheim, 3rd August._--I have been reading the _sommation_ and articles of capitulation of Valenciennes. The allies have accorded the garrison in it to return to France but to be considered prisoners of war, with a promise that they will not serve until they have been regularly exchanged for other prisoners.[87] It is very unlikely that they should abide by this convention, and, to say the truth, were I the Government of France they _should not_. Lord Yarmouth told me a _trait_ of French _légèreté_ that amused me. After the D. of York’s _sommation_ there was a parley, during which many people came out of the town. The first intimation the Duke had that the terms were accepted was by the director of the Theatre coming to ask what piece H.R.H. would order the next day.

[Sidenote: THE SEAT OF WAR]

We left Mannheim at 10. The Elector’s carriage went out of the same gate with us; it was going to Turkheim to bring the King of Prussia here. Turkheim is the capital of the States of the unlucky Count of Leiningen who was seized in his palace by the Patriots, who keep him as a hostage for Camus, Beurnonville, and the other deputies delivered by Dumouriez to the Austrians. The road is all alive; troops, recruits, baggage waggons, ammunition waggons, sick and wounded, stragglers, cavalry, all proclaim the direful din of arms is at hand. At Worms we were forced to stop; three long hours have we already waited, not a horse to be had. The Cathedral is a large, ugly brick edifice, in which a few months ago 3000 patriots lodged. During their predatory excursion they levied hard contributions upon the townspeople to the amount of 12,000 florins.

_4th August, Sunday._--Quitted Oppenheim at 6. Followed the course of the Rhine: the roads almost destroyed by the quantity of heavy artillery that had passed to the siege of Mayence. A long file of ammunition waggons looked very pretty at a distance. I was gratified with sight of _pontoons_ to make a bridge. I shall become very skilful in military tactics if I remain amidst the clangour of war. A mile from Mayence upon the road a small _fascine_ battery to prevent succour getting to the city. The faubourgs totally destroyed, not a house with a roof on it. Cortheim is a complete ruin; out of 180 houses and two churches not a vestige except the stones remain. The works at Cassel, the other faubourg, are surprising. They were raised by the French, who seemed as if they meant to fix there, as they had begun to face the works with stone. A thick _abattis_ remains all round the fortifications still. The town is very much damaged: the Cathedral is almost a heap of ruins, the front tower remains tottering without an atom of roof. The Electoral Palace is converted into a hospital where many victims to the folly and ambition of their employers are languishing. La Favorita, a _maison de plaisance_ of the Elector, is razed to the ground. We drove to Cortheim. It was a melancholy sight; scorched walls, fields of self-sown corn grown up with weeds, unpruned vines trampled by cavalry, a houseless town, and every symptom of desolation and solitude. During the siege the French devoured horseflesh, and have consumed so many that they are really scarce; we can get none to go on with. I talked with an _émigré_, who seems well acquainted with many of my friends. His prejudices are absurd; he is as violent against the first Assembly as he is against the atrocious Convention.

_5th of August, Frankfort._--The bridge of boats out of Mayence would frighten a timid person to cross with frisky horses; ours did not answer that description. We took the _voiturins_ to Frankfort. We met a troop of French prisoners, who looked more as if they were going to take possession of the city than of its prisons. I sat up very late from downright low spirits. I cannot bear up whenever I am alone; there is a desponding feel that steals over my mind and prevents me from occupying myself in any way. ‘La mort ne vient jamais à propos,’ someone says; I want to die, but I do not, and I shall die (most likely) when I could dispense with it. The Maison Rouge, a vast pile of buildings. The whole town has a _bourgeois_ air about it. It has not suffered by the French. I do not care if it does or not. Custine only took one million of florins: they can bear much more squeezing. It is said that the English fleet is at length in the Mediterranean: I have heard the report so often that I doubt the truth of it.

[Sidenote: KÖNIGSTEIN]

_6th August, Frankfort._--Obliged to stay dinner, as horses were out of the question for some hours. The common route is by Hattersheim, but we were advised to go by Königstein, as the other had been destroyed to retard the progress of the French. The road we went was dreadful; several times I thought the carriage would have been overset. Obliged to sleep at this place (Königstein) for the old reason--want of horses. This place has been destroyed by military rage; the houses are burnt and gutted. The French maintained themselves here two months against the allies, and then only yielded to famine. It was quite touching to see some of the hoary sons of St. Francis lamenting over the ruins of their solitary cells, their untenanted convent, and degraded altars. The hill upon which the fortress stands is isolated, and commands a fine view of the plain of the Rhine. The French surrendered to the Russians. The common people detest their old masters, and long for the return of their democratic friends, whose principles are captivating to the lower classes: every man enjoys the prospect of placing his humble cot on a level with the proud palace, forgetting that the equality can only be maintained by lowering the palace to the cot. My companion in a paroxysm threw the book I was reading at my head, after having first torn it out of my hands.

_7th August._--Set off at 7 from Königstein; the road insufferably bad. Austrian soldiers marching from Linz into Brabant. One poor fellow was lying on the ground roaring from the torture of a colic. I gave him money, and as we were going the same road had him placed upon the second carriage, that took him on till we overtook a baggage waggon: he was a poor Croat not twenty years old. Slept at Montabaur.

_8th August._--Passed through a noble forest of enormous extent. Coblentz is charmingly situated upon the Rhine. We crossed the river on a _pont volant_. The _émigrés_ are no longer allowed to remain in the town; this _foyer_ of counter-revolution is at present very dull and democratic. Just out of the town we crossed the Moselle, which there falls into the Rhine. We followed the course of the Rhine to Bonn, the country rich and populous. Just before we entered Bonn, I was delighted at the sight of a very magnificent ruin of a baronial castle, with a high tower, upon a solitary rock. We slept at Bonn, which is now the residence of the Elector of Cologne, who is the uncle of the Emperor.

_9th August._--Stopped at Cologne, an ugly, dirty town; everything looked black, houses, water, faces, trees. Road to Donningen[88] deep sand and bad. Three miles from Dusseldorf crossed the Rhine, which is very wide and begins to lose its transparency, on a _pont volant_. The gates of Dusseldorf were shut, and we were compelled to take refuge under a very comfortless roof; I lay upon the floor a prey to every sort of vermin, bugs, spiders, earwigs--filthy. I never was really annoyed at any _gîte_ before this.

_10th August._--The gallery contains some excellent pictures.[89] _Rubens_, _Vanderwerfs_, and some Italian masters. Twenty-five _Vanderwerfs_. Small cabinet pictures his finished, detailed style suits, but he fails when he attempts history pictures. His pendant to _Raphael’s_ ‘St. John’ shows that he did not understand _effect_; the figure of Magdalen looks like a carving in ivory, and the hair like a flaxen wig. A game piece by _Sneiders_, a single figure in it done by _Rubens_, a _chef d’œuvre_. In general a picture painted by different hands either fails in harmony or in composition, but not this one, as each are perfect. Sneiders’ high finishing forced Rubens to give more force and less glare. This picture makes one regret that Rubens had not always some reason to paint in this energetic style. Two fine _Boths_. Fine _Berghem_. The ‘Charlatan,’ by _Gerard Dow_, a charmingly executed Dutch picture, as fine as the celebrated ‘Femme Hydropique,’ by the same hand, at Turin. The evening was rainy, and the weather very unpromising, but the whim was to go on, and on we went to Furth. When we arrived there were no beds; I and my maid sat up in a small room, and Sir G. and the servants slept as they could in the carriages.

[Sidenote: DUSSELDORF]

_Sunday._--In the road to Juliers there are works upon the road made by the French whilst they were in possession of this country. Juliers is an ugly town belonging to the Elector of Bavaria. At Aix-la-Chapelle heard the melancholy tale of the Queen’s being sent to the Conciergerie. Unhappy woman! there is little hope of peace for her in this life. Gaston continues successful in Brittany. He appears to rise by magic, suddenly he advances at the head of thousands, and then as suddenly they dissolve into air. It is a pity the emigrants are not sent to succour him, but I confess I begin to fear the _liberal_, generous, and gallant Englishman looks at France with a mercantile, suspicious eye. Slept at Aix-la-Chapelle.

_12th August._--The road to Maestricht in a shocking state. The town surrounded by works thrown up by the French when they besieged it under Miranda, early in the year, while Dumouriez invaded Holland. During the siege the _émigrés_ worked the guns, and were as brave as this nation have always been. The besiegers gave up the attack. The strength of the town is prodigious. It was the work of Crehorne [_sic_], a great military tactician; it now belongs to the Dutch, always garrisoned by 8000 or 10,000 men. It is a pretty town, large, well built, and paved. Dined at Maestricht, and should have reached St. Trond, but want of horses compelled us to stop at Tongres.

_13th._--Straight long avenues and fertile country. Stopped at Louvain. In the courtyard saw English carriages, belonging to some young men who are going to Italy, Mr. Amherst, Beauclerk, and Cornewall. Near this town were fought the battles that expelled the patriots from Flanders--_Neerwinden_ and _Louvain_.

_Bruxelles._--Found a budget of letters, from T. P. and my father. Ld. H.[90] talks of coming to meet me; he can be absent from the Hague only by stealth. Wrong as it will be, my inclination would get the better of my reason if I had the measure to decide upon, but as I have _not_, it must take its chance; only I do not think he can arrive before I go. My children are perfectly well. Everything in this town is as it was _nine_ years ago, when I, a little harmless innocent, used to meander among the groves of this delicious park. My father lived a year at this pretty place when I was a very young performer in life. I went to see the desolation made a few days ago by a dreadful accident in the suburb. Some ammunition waggons, to the amount of eight in number, suddenly blew up. The explosion was fatal to 100 persons; a gentleman, lady, child, and three servants were travelling past, and must have perished, as no vestige of them or their equipage remains.

Madame de Balbi very friendly to me; all the _beau-monde_ of Paris assembled here. Ld. Elgin[91] is the Minister here; he is _bien fat_, civil like a Scotchman, but on the whole I liked him better than I expected. Poor Ld. H. has a great prejudice against him. A gossiping man, a Mr. Merrick, told me the scandal of London. He says Carlo Dolce is annoyed at the violence of Mrs. Potiphar’s passion for him: she is vehement even in public.

[Sidenote: COUNT FERSEN]

M. de Fersen, the lover of the unhappy Queen, came to see me. He is tall and stately, and has the pretension in his manner of a favourite: _au reste_, his devoted attachment to the Queen, even more in her prison, makes him interesting. On the 6th of October he disguised himself as a _démocrate_, and cried out with the mob, ‘Vive la nation,’ merely that he might keep close to her carriage and protect her from any personal violence. He planned their flight from Paris to Varennes and rode postillion to the immense berlin; had his advice been followed the whole family would have been safe.

I called upon Madame Ferraris; she thought me grown since Vienna. Her husband is with the Duke of York. She says the Duke submits to the advice of his generals very readily, but there are two different stories upon that subject. I dined with Ld. Elgin, etc., and passed my time pleasantly among the French.

_Tuesday, 20th._--I rose in the morning fully persuaded that I should sleep at Bruges. Ld. Elgin (who I have grown to like) very good-humouredly did his utmost to facilitate my wish of seeing Valenciennes. He gave us quantities of passports, and very _sullenly_ we set off. Saw A. St. Leger. He came over, as have done many English, Mr. Windham, etc., to see the armies.

_21st. Mons._--Passed over the plain where the dreadful battle of Jemappes was fought, which obtained to Dumouriez the full possession of Flanders. The plain is covered with newly made graves; no skeletons, except those of a few horses were stretched about. The whole country covered with waggons and ammunition. The feeding and clothing of a great army requires skill and combination, to the full as much as leading it on to combat. Just out of Quievrain we entered part of _old_ France. The corn was standing, and did not appear to be in the least damaged. About a league from Valenciennes lies the wonderful machinery that destroyed it, a magnificent park of artillery, with immense magazines of balls, etc., guarded by a small party of Austrians encamped. A pretty sight enough.

Valenciennes is in a deplorable state, many streets are quite uninhabitable; scarcely a house standing that has not been shattered by bombs. The streets are choked up with rubbish; beams of houses half-burnt lying across. The quarter of the town through which we passed first is the most destroyed; it was the part nearest to the _globes of compression_.[92] The concussion occasioned by their explosion finished what forty-two days incessant fire had begun. The city walls and ramparts are crumbling from the shattering made in them with ball. We were shown very exactly by an intelligent officer the military posts, and the chief occurrences at them. The French went into the _fossée_ when they abandoned the hornwork; the allies pursued them. The panic created by the explosion of the globes of compression made the assault very little perilous. The danger was when the French recovered themselves and found that all the mischief was done, they might have blown up the hornwork, as by some oversight the besiegers had not undermined them there. Sir John Shelley served as a volunteer, and gained himself credit by his gallantry. In the camp of Famars, close by, is a rude monument erected in honour of Dampierre, the citizen general, who was killed. It consists of the tree of liberty decorated with military trophies. If his fame does not survive the effigies, it will be but short-lived, as they are withering already.

[Sidenote: VALENCIENNES]

The loss of _bourgeoisie_ in the town during the siege is calculated at about 2,500 men, women, and children. Thousands were crammed into the vaults of the general hospital, and guards posted to prevent them from going out that they might not by their complaints and sufferings dispose the active _bourgeoisie_ and the garrison to yield. The house I am now in is above two-thirds of it untenable; the walls are perforated with balls and bombs, and there is not from top to bottom a whole pane of glass in the house. The appearance of the inhabitants denotes what they must have suffered from famine, confinement, terror, and the whole accompanying train of diseases. Yet they regret the Carmagnols, and would to-morrow assist their return. Mr. Hobart and Mr. Meyrick joined us at dinner; they brought news of an engagement at Tourcoing, for the Duke of York was getting on to Ypres without suspecting he could meet with any impediment from the _Camp de la Madeleine_, but he found to his cost that he was interrupted. His vanguard, composed of Dutch, were attacked and forced to _replier_; the detachment of Guards sent to reinforce them were defeated with the loss of 200; Colonel Bosville was killed, and many others wounded.

Whilst I was walking on the ramparts at Valenciennes, an Austrian grenadier intended to make a well-turned compliment by wishing I was his wife for the sake of a fine race of grenadiers. I received a similar compliment from one of his description at Prague. Mr. Hobart laughed mightily at the _Swager’s_ gallantry. When I look at the scenes around and reflect that it is the deed of man to man, how far more cruel does he appear than the lion or the tiger. We saw smoke from Le Quesnoy; as it was invested we concluded it was a bombardment, but as the trenches are not yet opened it could not be, therefore it must have been the French employed in burning their suburbs! Prince Coburg is before it.

_22nd._--Quitted Valenciennes at 3 o’clock. All the villages partake of the ruinous ravage of war. About a league is the superb _ci-devant_ Abbaye de Vicoing, which alternately belonged to the allies and the French; there are _breastworks_ and _embrasures_ in many parts round it. It serves now as a _garnison_ for Austrian hussars. Very near it are the Baths of St. Amand, near which the English were unwarily surprised and beat unmercifully from a masked battery. Every cottage that fronts the road has its walls perforated for muskets. Poor wretched people! What a condition is theirs! friend or foe must be equally to be dreaded by them.