Book: A Visit to Iceland and the Scandinavian North

M >> Madame Ida Pfeiffer >> A Visit to Iceland and the Scandinavian North





April 16th.

The Dresden omnibuses may be cited as models of comfort; one is
certain of plenty of room, and there is no occasion to dread either
the corpulent persons or the furs and cloaks of fellow-passengers.
A bell-pull is fixed in the interior of the carriage, so that each
individual can give the coachman a signal when he or she wishes to
alight. These omnibuses call at the principal inns, and wait for a
moment; but the traveller who is not ready in advance is left
behind.

At half-past five in the morning it called at our hotel. I was
ready and waiting, and drove off comfortably to the railway. The
distance from Dresden to Leipzig is reckoned at fifty-six miles, and
the journey occupied three hours.

The first fourteen miles are very agreeable; gardens, fields, and
meadows, pine-forests in the plain and on the hills, and between
these, villages, farms, country-houses, and solitary chapels,
combine to form a very pretty landscape. But the scene soon
changes, and the town of Meissen (famous for its porcelain
manufactory), on the right hand, seems to shut out from our view all
that is picturesque and beautiful.

From here to Leipzig we travel through a wearisome monotonous plain,
enlivened at long intervals by villages and scattered farms. There
is nothing to see but a great tunnel, and the river Pleisse--the
latter, or rather the Elster, is rendered famous by the death of
Prince Poniatowski. {9}

The town of Leipzig, celebrated far and wide for its fairs, and more
for its immense publishing trade, presents an appearance of noise
and bustle proportionate to its commercial importance. I found
streets, squares, and inns alike crowded. {10}

Perhaps there does not exist a town with its houses, and
consequently its streets, so disfigured with announcements, in all
sizes and shapes, covering its walls, and sometimes projecting
several feet, as Leipzig.

Among the public buildings, those which pleased me most were the
Augusteum and the Burgerschule. The Bucherhalle (book-hall) I
should suppose indebted for its celebrity rather to its literary
contents than to its architectural beauty or its exterior. The hall
itself is indeed large, and occupies the whole length of the
building, while the lower story consists of several rooms. The
hall, the chambers, and the exterior are all plain, and without
particular decoration. The Tuchhalle (cloth-hall) is simply a large
house, with spacious chambers, containing supplies of cloth. The
Theatre stands on a very large square, and does not present a very
splendid appearance, whether viewed from within or from without.
The plan of having stalls in front of the boxes in the second and
third galleries was a novelty to me. The orchestra I could only
hear, but could not discover its whereabouts; most probably it was
posted behind the scenes. On inquiry, I was told that this was only
done on extraordinary occasions, when the seats in the orchestra
were converted into stalls, as was the case on the night of my
visit. The play given was "the original Tartuffe," a popular piece
by Gutzkow. It was capitally performed.

In the Leipzig theatre I had a second opportunity of observing, that
as regards the love of eating our good Saxons are not a whit behind
the much-censured Viennese. In the Dresden theatre I had admired a
couple of ladies who sat next me. They came provided with a neat
bag, containing a very sufficient supply of confectionery, to which
they perseveringly applied themselves between the acts. But at
Leipzig I found a delicate-looking mother and her son, a lad of
fifteen or sixteen years, regaling themselves with more solid
provisions--white bread and small sausages. I could not believe my
eyes, and had made up my mind that the sausages were artificially
formed out of some kind of confectionery--but alas! my nose came
forward but too soon, as a potent witness, to corroborate what I was
so unwilling to believe!

Neither did these two episodes take place in the loftiest regions of
Thalia's temple, but in the stalls of the second tier.

Beautiful alleys are planted round Leipzig. I took a walk into the
Rosenthal (Valley of Roses), which also consists of splendid avenues
and lawns. A pretty coffee-house, with a very handsome alcove,
built in a semicircular form, invites the weary traveller to rest
and refreshment, while a band of agreeable music diffuses mirth and
good humour around.

The rest of the scenery around Leipzig presents the appearance of a
vast and monotonous plain.


April 17th.

I had intended to continue my journey to Hamburgh via Berlin, but
the weather was so cold and stormy, and the rain poured down so
heavily, that I preferred the shorter way, and proceeded by rail to
Magdeburg. Flying through the dismal plain past Halle, Kothen, and
other towns, of which I could only discern groups of houses, we
hurriedly recognised the Saale and the Elbe; and towards 10 o'clock
in the morning arrived at Magdeburg, having travelled seventy miles
in three hours and a quarter.

As the steamer for Hamburgh was not to start until 3 o'clock, I had
ample time to look at the town.

Magdeburg is a mixed pattern of houses of ancient, mediaeval, and
modern dates. Particularly remarkable in this respect is the
principal street, the "Broadway," which runs through the whole of
the town. Here we can see houses dating their origin from the most
ancient times; houses that have stood proof against sieges and
sackings; houses of all colours and forms; some sporting peaked
gables, on which stone figures may still be seen; others covered
from roof to basement with arabesques; and in one instance I could
even detect the remains of frescoes. In the very midst of these
relics of antiquity would appear a house built in the newest style.
I do not remember ever having seen a street which produced so
remarkable an impression on me. The finest building is
unquestionably the venerable cathedral. In Italy I had already seen
numbers of the most beautiful churches; yet I remained standing in
mute admiration before this masterpiece of Gothic architecture.

The monument with the twelve Apostles in this church is a worthy
memorial of the celebrated sculptor Vischer. In order to view it,
it is necessary to obtain the special permission of the commandant.

The cathedral square is large, symmetrical, and decorated with two
alleys of trees; it is also used as a drilling-ground for the
soldiers' minor manoeuvres. I was particularly struck with the
number of military men to be seen here. Go where I would, I was
sure to meet soldiers and officers, frequently in large companies;
in time of war it could scarcely have been worse. This was an
unmistakeable token that I was on Prussian territory.

The open canals, which come from all the houses, and meander through
the streets, are a great disfigurement to the town.

Half-past three o'clock came only too quickly, and I betook myself
on board the steamer Magdeburg, of sixty-horse power, to proceed to
Hamburgh. Of the passage itself I can say nothing, except that a
journey on a river through execrable scenery is one of the most
miserable things that can well be imagined. When, in addition to
this, the weather is bad, the ship dirty, and one is obliged to pass
a night on board, the discomfort is increased. It was my lot to
endure all this: the weather was bad, the ship was dirty, the
distance more than 100 miles, so that we had the pleasant prospect
of a delightful night on board the ship. There were, moreover, so
many passengers, that we were forced to sit crowded together; so
there we sat with exemplary patience, stared at each other, and
sighed bitterly. Order was entirely out of the question; no one had
time to think of such a thing. Smoking and card-playing were
perseveringly carried on all day and all night; it can easily be
imagined that things did not go so quietly as at an English whist-
party. The incessant rain rendered it impossible to leave the cabin
even for a short time. The only consolation I had was, that I made
the acquaintance of the amiable composer Lorzing, a circumstance
which delighted me the more, as I had always been an admirer of his
beautiful original music.



CHAPTER II



Morning dawned at length, and in a short time afterwards we reached
the great commercial city, which, half destroyed by the dreadful
conflagration of 1842, had risen grander and more majestic from its
ashes. {11} I took up my quarters with a cousin, who is married to
the Wurtemburg consul, the merchant Schmidt, in whose house I spent
a most agreeable and happy week. My cousin-in-law was polite enough
to escort me every where himself, and to shew me the lions of
Hamburgh.

First of all we visited the Exchange between the hours of one and
two, when it is at the fullest, and therefore best calculated to
impress a stranger with an idea of the extent and importance of the
business transacted there. The building contains a hall of great
size, with arcades and galleries, besides many large rooms, which
are partly used for consultations, partly for the sale of
refreshments. The most interesting thing of all is, however, to sit
in the gallery, and looking downwards, to observe the continually
increasing crowd passing and repassing each other in the immense
hall and through the galleries and chambers, and to listen to the
hubbub and noise of the thousands of eager voices talking at once.
At half-past one o'clock the hall is at its fullest, and the noise
becomes absolutely deafening; for now they are marking up the rates
of exchange, by which the merchants regulate their monetary
transactions.

Leaving the Exchange, we bent our steps towards the great harbour,
and entering a small boat, cruised in and about it in all
directions. I had resolved to count only the three-masted ships;
but soon gave it up, for their number seemed overwhelming, even
without reckoning the splendid steamers, brigs, sloops, and craft.
In short, I could only gaze and wonder, for at least 900 ships lay
before me.

Let any one fancy an excursion amidst 900 ships, great and small,
which lined both shores of the Elbe in tiers of three deep or more;
the passing to and fro of countless boats busily employed in loading
or unloading these vessels; these things, together with the shouting
and singing of the sailors, the rattling of anchors which are being
weighed, and the rush and swell of passing steamers, combine to
constitute a picture not to be surpassed in any city except in that
metropolis of the world, London. {12}

The reason of this unusual activity in the harbour lay in the
severity of the past winter. Such a winter had not been experienced
for seventy years: the Elbe and the Baltic lay for months in icy
chains, and not a ship could traverse the frozen river, not an
anchor could be weighed or lowered. It was only a short time before
my arrival that the passage had once more become free.

In the neighbourhood of the harbour are situated the greater number
of the so-called "yards." I had read concerning them that, viewed
from the exterior, they look like common houses; but that they
constitute separate communities, and contain alleys and streets,
serving as the domicile of innumerable families. I visited several
of these places, and can assure the reader that I saw nothing
extraordinary in them. Houses with two large wings, forming an
alley of from eighty to a hundred paces in length, are to be met
with in every large town; and that a number of families should
inhabit such a house is not remarkable, considering that they are
all poor, and that each only possesses a single small apartment.

The favourite walk in the town is the "Jungfernstieg" (Maiden's
Walk), a broad alley, extending round a spacious and beautiful basin
of the Alster. On one side are splendid hotels, with which Hamburgh
is richly provided; on the other, a number of private residences of
equal pretensions. Other walks are, the "Wall," surrounding the
town, and the "Botanical Garden," which resembles a fine park. The
noblest building, distinguished alike as regards luxury, skill,
tastefulness of design, and stability, is the Bazaar. It is truly a
gigantic undertaking, and the more to be admired from the fact that
it is not built upon shares, but at the expense of a single
individual, Herr Carl Sillem; the architect's name is Overdick. The
building itself is constructed entirely of stone, and the walls of
the great room and of the hall are inlaid with marble. A lofty
cupola and an immense glazed dome cover both the great room and the
hall; the upper staircases are ornamented with beautiful statues.
When in the evening it is brilliantly lighted with gas, and further
ornamented by a tasteful display of the richest wares, the spectator
can almost fancy himself transported to a fairy palace.

Altogether the shops in Hamburgh are very luxurious. The wares lie
displayed in the most tasteful manner behind huge windows of plate-
glass, which are often from five to six feet broad, and eight or ten
feet high; a single sheet frequently costs 600 florins. This plate-
glass luxury is not confined to shops, but extends to windows
generally, not only in Hamburgh, but also in Altona, and is also
seen in the handsomest country-houses of the Hamburghers. Many a
pane costs eight or ten florins; and the glass is insured in case of
breakage, like houses in case of fire.

This display of glass is equalled by the costliness of the
furniture, which is almost universally of mahogany; a wood which is
here in such common use, that in some of the most elegant houses the
very stair-banisters are constructed of it. Even the pilots have
often mahogany furniture.

The handsomest and most frequented street is the "Neue Wall" (New
Wall). I was particularly struck with the number of shops and
dwellings underground, to which one descends by a flight of six or
eight stairs; an iron railing is generally placed before the
entrance, to prevent the passers-by from falling down.

A very practical institution is the great slaughterhouse, in which
all cattle are killed on certain days of the week.

Concerning the town of Altona, I have only to observe that it
appeared to me a continuation of Hamburgh; from which town, indeed,
it is only separated by a wooden door. A very broad, handsome
street, or, more properly speaking, an elongated square, planted
with a double row of large trees, is the most remarkable thing about
Altona, which belongs to the Danish Government, and is considered,
after Copenhagen, the most important place in the kingdom.

It is a delicious ride to the village of Blankenese, distant nine
miles from Hamburgh; the road lies among beautiful country-houses
and large park-like gardens. Blankenese itself consists of
cottages, grouped in a picturesque manner round the Sulberg, a hill
from which the traveller enjoys a very extended view over the great
plain, in which it is the only elevated point. The course of the
Elbe, as it winds at moderate speed towards the sea, is here to be
traced almost to its embouchure at Cuxhaven.

The breadth of the Elbe at Blankenese exceeds two miles.

Another interesting excursion is to the "New Mills," a little
village on the Elbe, not more than half a mile from Altona, and
inhabited only by fishermen and pilots. Whoever wishes to form an
idea of Dutch prettiness and cleanliness should come here.

The houses are mostly one story high, neatly and tastefully built;
the brightest of brass handles adorn the street-doors; the windows
are kept scrupulously clean, and furnished with white curtains.

In Saxony I had found many dwellings of the peasantry tidy and neat
enough, displaying at any rate more opulence than we are accustomed
to find with this class of people; but I had seen none to compete
with this pretty village.

Among the peasants' costumes, I only liked that worn by the women
from the "Vierlanden." They wear short full skirts of black stuff,
fine white chemisettes with long sleeves, and coloured bodices,
lightly fastened in front with silk cords or silver buckles. Their
straw hats have a most comical appearance; the brim of the hat is
turned up in such a manner that the crown appears to have completely
sunk in. Many pretty young girls dressed in this manner come to
Hamburgh to sell flowers, and take up their position in front of the
Exchange.

The 26th of April, the day appointed for my departure, arrived only
too speedily. To part is the unavoidable fate of the traveller; but
sometimes we part gladly, sometimes with regret. I need not write
many pages to describe my feelings at the parting in Hamburgh. I
was leaving behind me my last relations, my last friends. Now I was
going into the wide world, and among strangers.

At eight o'clock in the morning I left Altona, and proceeded by
railway to Kiel.

I noticed with pleasure that on this railway even the third-class
carriages were securely covered in, and furnished with glass
windows. In fact, they only differed from those of the first and
second class in being painted a different colour, and having the
seats uncushioned.

The whole distance of seventy miles was passed in three hours; a
rapid journey, but agreeable merely by its rapidity, for the whole
neighbourhood presents only widely-extended plains, turf-bogs and
moorlands, sandy places and heaths, interspersed with a little
meadow or arable land. From the nature of the soil, the water in
the ditches and fields looked black as ink.

Near Binneburg we notice a few stunted plantations of trees. From
Eisholm a branch-line leads to Gluckstadt, and another from
Neumunster, a large place with important cloth-factories, to
Rendsburg.

From here there is nothing to be seen but a convent, in which many
Dukes of Holstein lie buried, and several unimportant lakes; for
instance, those of Bernsholm, Einfeld, and Schulhof. The little
river Eider would have passed unnoticed by me, had not some of my
fellow-passengers made a great feature of it. In the finest
countries I have found the natives far less enthusiastic about what
was really grand and beautiful, than they were here in praise of
what was neither the one nor the other. My neighbour, a very
agreeable lady, was untiring in laudation of her beautiful native
land. In her eyes the crippled wood was a splendid park, the waste
moorland an inexhaustible field for contemplation, and every trifle
a matter of real importance. In my heart I wished her joy of her
fervid imagination; but unfortunately my colder nature would not
catch the infection.

Towards Kiel the plain becomes a region of low hills. Kiel itself
is prettily situated on the Baltic, which, viewed from thence, has
the appearance of a lake of middling size. The harbour is said to
be good; but there were not many ships there. {13} Among these was
the steamer destined to carry me to Copenhagen. Little did I
anticipate the good reason I should have to remember this vessel.

Thanks to the affectionate forethought of my cousin Schmidt, I found
one of his relations, Herr Brauer, waiting for me at the railway. I
was immediately introduced to his family, and passed the few hours
of my stay very agreeably in their company.

Evening approached, and with it the hour of embarkation. My kind
friends the Brauers accompanied me to the steamer, and I took a
grateful leave of them.

I soon discovered the steamer Christian VIII., of 180-horse power,
to be a vessel dirtier and more uncomfortable than any with which I
had become acquainted in my maritime excursions. Scrubbing and
sweeping seemed things unknown here. The approach to the cabin was
by a flight of stairs so steep, that great care was requisite to
avoid descending in an expeditious but disagreeable manner, by a
fall from top to bottom. In the fore-cabin there was no attempt at
separate quarters for ladies and gentlemen. In short, the
arrangements seemed all to have been made with a view of impressing
the ship vividly on the recollection of every traveller.

At nine o'clock we left Kiel. The day and the twilight are here
already longer than in the lands lying to the south and the west.
There was light enough to enable me to see, looming out of the
surrounding darkness, the fortress "Friedrichsort," which we passed
at about ten o'clock.


April 27th.

To-day I still rose with the sun; but that will soon be a difficult
matter to accomplish; for in the north the goddess of light makes
amends in spring and summer for her shortcomings during the winter.
I went on deck, and looked on the broad expanse of ocean. No land
was to be seen; but soon a coast appeared, then disappeared, and
then a new and more distant one rose out of the sea. Towards noon
we reached the island of Moen, which lies about forty {14} miles
distant from Copenhagen. It forms a beautiful group of rocks,
rising boldly from the sea. They are white as chalk, and have a
smooth and shining appearance. The highest of these walls of rock
towers 400 feet above the level of the surrounding ocean. Soon we
saw the coast of Sweden, then the island of Malmo; and at last
Copenhagen itself, where we landed at four o'clock in the afternoon.
The distance from Kiel to Copenhagen is 136 sea-miles.

I remained seven days at Copenhagen, and should have had ample time
to see every thing, had the weather been more favourable. But it
blew and rained so violently, that I was obliged to give up all
thoughts of visiting the surrounding parks, and was fain to content
myself with seeing a few of the nearest walks, which I accomplished
with some difficulty.

The first street in Copenhagen which I traversed on coming from the
harbour generally produces a great impression. It is called the
"Broad Street," and leads from the harbour through the greater part
of the town. In addition to its breadth it is very long and
regular, and the splendid palaces and houses on either side give it
a remarkably grand appearance.

It is a peculiar sight, when, in the midst of this fine quarter, we
come suddenly upon a ruin, a giant building resting on huge pillars,
but half completed, and partly covered with moss and lichens. It
was intended for a splendid church, and is built entirely of marble;
but the soft ground would not bear the immense weight. The half-
finished building began to sink, and the completion of the
undertaking became for ever impossible.

Many other streets rival the "Broad Street" in size and
magnificence. Foremost among them comes the Amalienstrasse. The
most bustling, but by far not the finest, are the Oster and
Gotherstrasse. To walk in these is at first quite a difficult
undertaking for a stranger. On one side of the pavement, which is
raised about a foot above the carriage-way, he comes continually in
contact with stairs, leading sometimes to warehouses above, at
others to subterranean warehouses below the level of the street.
The approaches to the latter are not guarded by railings as in
Hamburgh. The other side of the pavement is bounded by a little
unostentatious rivulet, called by unpoetical people "canal," into
which tributaries equally sweet pour from all the neighbouring
houses. It is therefore necessary to take great care, lest you
should fall into the traitorous depths on the one side, or stumble
over the projecting steps on the other. The pavement itself is
covered with a row of stone slabs, a foot and a half wide, on which
one walks comfortably enough. But then every body contends for the
possession of these, to avoid the uneven and pointed stones at the
side. This, added to the dreadful crowding, renders the street one
which would scarcely be chosen for a walk, the less so as the shops
do not contain any thing handsome, the houses are neither palace-
like nor even tastefully built, and the street itself is neither of
the broadest nor of the cleanest.

The squares are all large and regularly built. The finest is the
Kongensnytorf (King's New Market). Some fine mansions, the chief
guard-house, the theatre, the chief coffee-houses and inns, the
academy of the fine arts, and the building belonging to the
botanical garden, the two last commonly known by the name of
"Charlottenburg," are among the ornaments of this magnificent
square, in the midst of which stands a beautiful monument,
representing Christian V. on horseback, and surrounded by several
figures.

Smaller, but more beautiful in its perfect symmetry, is the
"Amalienplatz," containing four royal palaces, built exactly alike,
and intersected by four broad streets in the form of a cross. This
square also is decorated by a monument standing in the midst, and
representing Frederick V. In another fine square, the "Nytorf" (New
Market), there is a fountain. Its little statue sends forth very
meagre jets of water, and the fountain is merely noticeable as being
the only one I could find at Copenhagen.

The traveller can hardly fail of being surprised by the number and
magnificence of the palaces, at sight of which he could fancy
himself in the metropolis of one of the largest kingdoms. The
"Christianensburg" is truly imperial; it was completely destroyed by
fire in the year 1794, but has since been rebuilt with increased
splendour. The chapel of this palace is very remarkable. The
interior has the appearance rather of a concert-room than of a
building devoted to purposes of worship. Tastefully decorated
boxes, among which we notice that of the king, together with
galleries, occupy the upper part of the chapel; the lower is filled
with benches covered with red velvet and silk. The pulpit and altar
are so entirely without decoration, that, on first entering, they
wholly escape notice.

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