THE THIRD VOLUME OF THE TOUR OF A GERMAN PRINCE.
Tuts volume of the German Prince's Tour, though called the third, is in reality the first. It describes his setting out from Germany, his arrival in England, and is occupied with his ex perience in London and its neighbourhood—which preceded the expedition to Wales and Ireland, the subject of the two former volumes. There are several reasons why we peruse this new volume with less pleasure than those which have now been for some time before the public, and have had the singular fate of being praised or attacked in every literary periodical in the coun- try. One of the first and principal is, that the subject is neither so susceptible nor so interesting as the Prince's adventures in Ire- land. It is confined to visits to parks and show-houses in the country, and in London to descriptions of parties and balls, in both of which we find but little that is either novel or remarkable : he tells us, in short, what we all know, and describes what we have all seen a thousand times. A German will, however, feel very dif- ferently on this head. Our magnificent parks, the luxurious ease of our vie de chateau, and the peculiar character of the " exclusive " society of London, will perhaps be sought after with more curiosity in Germany than the admirable descriptions of the wild scenery and wilder life of the Irish. In such subjects, the present volume ap- proaches much nearer the character of an ordinary tour than the former work. They will be disappointed who expect in the re- marks on the high society of London a scandalous chronicle. The Prince had enough to occupy him, in the details of the general machinery by the aid of which London society is conducted; he is contented with explaining to his correspondent the manner in which clubs are managed, the conditions on which Almacks is entered, and the general form and spirit of the parties of our nobility. If anecdotes and allusions of a more personal kind are ever introduced, it is only accidentally, and they are taken up frora the common stock of newspaper intelligence. Even these, little cal- culated to do harm or cause pain as they seem, have been evidently cut down and partly cut out by the commendable delicacy of the translator, whose marks of omission not unfrequently occur, and seem to be placed under the direction of good taste and sound judgment. But though the contents of this volume are pretty nearly the incidents of an ordinary tour in England and a season in London, the tourist is by no means a person of everyday occurrence. The public now knows him for a writer of very considerable talent ; of a large curiosity, information, freedom from prejudice, and activity; on all which is grafted a Beltenebros air of melancholy and romance, which, whether real or in part affected, throws a softening and agreeable light over all his correspondence. His descriptions are some of the best and clearest we have ever read : they are pictu- resque, striking, and yet brief. The account of his visit to War- wick Castle is the most perfect thing of the kind ; and they who wish to know what taste and talent can do in a few pages, may compare the Prince's description of Woburn Abbey with Mr. PARRY'S large volume on the same subject, noticed in the Spectator a few weeks ago. Of the Prince's opinions of the English character as seen in the upper ranks, we cannot speak with similar confidence. We are not sure that he is wrong, and are afraid that he is right. Per- haps he errs somewhat on the dark side; and we cannot suppose that a foreigner, excepting after long residence, is qualified to form a very correct judgment on the subject. Many of the traits are undoubtedly hit off with truth and felicity ; and after all, if we have not the real English character laid open with perfect accu- racy, we have a faithful picture of that which it seems to be to the eye of a tolerably fair judge of men and manners. This picture is not favourable. The fourth volume will, however, afford us a better opportunity of discussing this point. If the Prince's sketches are not exact likenesses, no one can deny that they are very amusing caricatures at least : many of the letters are irresistibly comic, and in all there is so perpetual a scin- tillation of a lively imagination, that he never wearies for an instant.
We will now proceed to extract a few specimens of the quality of the "German Prince in London." The following description of a visit to Garraway's, and thence to ROTHSCHILD, may be taken as a fair specimen of his City wanderings. Further still did we wander on in the tumultuous "City," where you may be lost like a flitting atom, if you do not pass on to the right or left according to rule; where you seem to be in continual danger of being spitted on the shaft of a cabriolet driving too near the- narrow trottoir or crushed under the weight of an overloaded and tottering stage-coach edifice. At length we reached an extremely- dark and mean-looking coffeehouse, called Garraway's, where estates and houses of enormous value are daily put up to sale. We took our seat with great gravity, as if we had been desirous of making some important purchase, and admired the uncommon suavity of manner and incredible address with which the auctioneer excited the-desire to purchase among- his' audience.
He was very well dressed in black, with a wig, and stood with all the dignity of a professor in his chair. He pronounced a charming oration on every estate, and failed not to season it with various jokes and wittietsms ; at the same time eulogizing every object in so irresistible a manner, that one would have sworn all the property went for an old song. How could I leave the City without visiting the true " Lion " (the English expression for any thing extraortlinary)—the sovereign—in a word,Rothschild ? I found him, too, in a poor obscure-looking place (his residence is in another part of the town); and making my way with some difficulty through the little court-yard, blocked up by a waggon laden with bars of silver, I was introduced into the presence of this Grand Ally of the Holy Alliance. I found the Rus- sian Consul in the act of paying his court. He is an acute, clever man, perfect in the part he bas to play, and uniting the due respect with a becoming air of dignity. This was the more difficult, because the very original aristocrat of the City did not stand much on ceremony. On my presenting my letter of credit, he said ironically, that we were lucky people who could afford to travel about so, and take our pleasure; while he, poor man, had such a heavy burden to bear. He then broke out into bitter complaints, that every poor devil who came to England had something or other to ask of him. " Yesterday," said he, " here was a Russian begging of sue " (an episode which threw a bitter-sweet expression over the Consul's face); " and," added he, " the Germans here don't give me a moment's peace." Now it was my turn to put a good face upon the matter. After this, the conversation took a political turn; and we both of course agreed that Europe could not subsist without him : he modestly de- clined our compliment, and said, smiling, " Oh no, you are only jesting ; I am but a servant, whom people are pleased with because be manages their affairs well, and to whom they let some crumbs fall as an acknowledgment." All this was said in a language quite peculiar to himself—half English, half German : the English part with a broad German accent, but with the im- posing confidence of a man who feels such trifles to be beneath his attention. This truly original language struck me as very characteristic of a man who is unquestionably a person of genius, and of a certain sort of greatness of character. I had begun my day, very appropriately for England, with the Royal Ex- change, the resort of merchants ; and ended it with Exeter ' Change, where I saw the representatives of the colonies—the wild beasts. Here I found another lion, and this time a genuine one, called Nero, who, besides his tameness, has the rarer merit in our northern latitudes of having presented England with six generations of young lions. He is of enormous size and dignified aspect, but now rests upon his laurels, and sleeps royally nearly all day long. If he wakes in an ill humour, however, he makes the old wooden house and all the herd of subject beasts tremble. These consist of elephants, tigers, leopards, hyalites, zebras, monkeys, ostriches, condors, parrots, &c. It is curious that they are not upon the ground floor, but up one or two pair of stairs ; so that one can ride on a tame elephant, which stands always ready saddled, and enjoy a fine extensive prospect. The variety is great, and the price moderate. The Am- bassador of the late King of Wurteniburg had, as I well remember, more occu- pation here than in St. James's and Downing Street; and, indeed, I knew that he was for a considerable time in fear of losing his post on account of a strange enormous dead tortoise.
Next follows a lively and pictorial description of a race at Newmarket.
Next morning I rode about with bins to reconnoitre the ground a little. One day here is precisely like another. At half-past nine in the morning you see some hundreds of race-horses, carefully clothed, taking their morning 'muse- mule on a rising ground. The bare, wide-spread heath is covered with them as with a herd of cattle • some are walking at a foot pace, others galloping, some slower, some quicker, but none at full speed. An inspector on a little pony generally accompanies the horses which belong to the same gentleman, or Which are under the care of the same training-groom. The horses are all ridden without a saddle by little half-dressed lads, one of whom is every now and then thrown for the amusement of the spectators. After this exhibition, cer- tainly a most interesting one to every amateur of horses, people breakfast, and in half an hour go to the sale, which takes place almost every day in the open street, under the auspices of the far-famed Mr. Tattersall. They then ride or drive to the races.
These begin pretty punctually at twelve o'clock. An interminable grassy plain covered with a thick short turf is the ground ; where various distances, from a full German mile as maximum, to an eighth or tenth as minimum, are marked for the course in a perfectly straight line. Near the end, this course is enclosed between ropes, on the outside of which rows of carriages three and four deep are drawn up, generally without horses, and covered within and without, from top to bottom, with spectators. At the goal itself is a wooden house on wheels, very like those the shepherds have in many parts of Germany, so that it can be moved about in case the course is lengthened or shortened : in this sits the judge. Just opposite to him is a post fixed in the ground, by means of which he determines which horse's nose first appears exactly on a line with it ; for an inch often decides the race : and it is a very skilful piece of policy and jockey- ship of the riders here, to betray the real speed of their horses as little as pos- sible, and to display only as much of it as is necessary to win the race. If they see they have no chance, they immediately give up; so that those who contend for victory to the last, are always very nearly together at the ,tsoal. The gro- tesque spectacle of a rider a mile in the rear, belabouring his horse with whip and spur, like a steam-engine, is exhibited only in France and Germany. If two horses reach the post exactly at the same moment (which frequently happens), they must run again. The judge is upon oath, and there is no appeal from his decision. The Euglish jockeys (who are not, as foreigners think, little boys, • but often dwarfish men of sixty) form a perfectly distinct class, and are the best practical riders I know of. You remember that I kept race-horses myself, and had a Newmarket jockey for a time in my service, who won a considerable bet for me at Vienna. It amused me greatly to see this fellow "training" himself. After dosing himself severely, he would go out in the greatest heat; dressed in three or four great-coats, ride a certain distance at a hard trot, till the sweat 'streamed off him in torrents, and he almost sank from exhaustion. Mais tel etoit some plaisir ; and the more completely good-for-nothing he felt, the better he was pleased.
But there are bounds to this ; for the man, by excessive training, May reduce himself below the weight which the horse is bound to carry, and thus subject himself to the inconveruent necessity of carrying lead in the girths. At a certain distance from the goal, about a hundred paces to the side, stands another white post called the betting-post. Here the bettors assemble, after they have seen the horses saddled in -the stables at the beginning of the course, thoroughly ex- amined into all the circumstances of the impending race, or perhaps given a wink to some devoted jockey. The scene Which ensues would to many appear the most strange that ever was exhibited. In noise, uproar, and clamour, it re- . sembles a Jews' synagogue, with a greater display of passion. The persons of the drama are the first peers of England, livery servants, the lowest "sharpers"
• and " black-ler ;" in short, allwho have money to bet, here claim equal rights;
• nor is there any marked difference in their external appearance. Most of them have pocket-books in their hands ; each calls aloud his bet, and when it is taken, each party immediately notes it in his book. Dukes, lords, grooms, and rogues, - shout, scream, and halloo together, and bet together, with a volubility and in a terlroical language out of which a ioreigner is puzzled to make any tbing; till suddenly the cry is heard, " The horses have started V In a minute the crowd disperses ; but the bettors soon meet again at the ropes which enclose the course. You see a multitude of telescopes, opera-glasses, and eye-glasses levelled front the carriages and by the horsemen, in the direction w nee the jockeys are coming. With the speed of the wind they are seen approaching ; and for a few moments a deep and anxious silence pervades the motley crowd ; while a manager on horseback keeps the course clear, and applies his whip without cere- mony to the shoulders of any intruder. The calm endures but a moment;—. then once more arises the wildest uproar ; shouts and lamentations, cusses and cheers reecho on every side, from lords and ladies, far and wide. " Ten to four upon the Admiral P' "A hundred:. to one upon Madame Vestris !" " Small Beer against the field !" &c. are heard from the almost frantic bettors : and scarcely do you hear a "Done !" uttered here and there, when the noble animals are before you—past you—in the twinkling of an eye ; the next moment at the goal, and luck, or skill, or knavery have decided the victory. The great losers look blank for a moment; the winners triumph aloud ; many make "bonne mine a mauvais jeu," and dart to the spot, where the horses are unsaddled and the jockeys weighed, tdsee if some irregularity may not yet give them a chances In a qua/ter of an hour the same scene begins anew with other hones, and is repeated six or seven times. Voila let courses de Newmarket !
English manners are discussed under the head of "Clubs; " which we do not agree with our author in thinking the best position for observation.
We are persuaded that this work will do our countrymen no in- considerable service, by presenting before them in numerous lights the excessive ridiculousness of aping the habits and customs of ranks accounted higher than their own, and of resting their claims to notice upon the acquaintance of' persons who have acquired a certain arbi- trary distinction. There are numerous remarks on this head, and some descriptions that cannot fail to sting large classes of indivi- duals, who will feel their force and their justice, though they will not confess their application. We may refer, among several passages of this nature, to the visit to the wealthy merchant's house in the neighbourhood of Newmarket. It is a part which will be con- sidered most ill-natured, while it will do most good.
The translator, in the preface, guards against the supposition that the numerous little errors of fact committed by the Prince have escaped his observation. It was almost unnecessary; except that the nature of the work will probably excite still more the bile of the Tory reviewers, who may, in the blindness of their wrath, confound persons so little identified as a translator and his original author. The translator appears to speak of his labours in almost a tone of disdain,—as if he had done the thing so well, that he felt ashamed he had not undertaken something better. And from one who can naturalize German as he can (or rather she, for we believe it to be a lady), the following passage of the preface is worthy of attention in proper quarters.
It has also been suggested that I ought to have given the names of the per- sons alluded to at length, instead of merely copying the initials given in the original. To this I can only reply, that had 1 the inclination, I am totally without the power. I know nothing of any of the persons or incidents re- corded ; nor have I any means, which are not equally at the command of all my readers, of guessing to whom the Author alludes in any case : inquiries of the kiud are as foreign to my tastes and pursuits as the society in question is from my station in life. I have regarded these incidents solely in the light of illustrations of national manners ; and the applying them to individuals is a matter in which I should take not the slightest interest. But since it is obvious that this is not the common taste, I have rather sought to obscure than to elucidate those parts of the book which are objectionably personal. HI could have done this still more, without entirely changing the character of the book, I should have done it. • But by any such material chancre I should have made my- self; in some sort, responsible for its contents,—which, as a mere translator, I can in no way be held to be. Whenever I find that the English public are likely to receive, with any degree of favour, such a German work as it would be my greatest pride and pleasure to render into my native tongue to the best of my ability, I shall be too happy to share with the illustrious and humanizing poets and philosophers of Germany any censure, as I should feel it the highest honour to partake in the minutest portion of their glory. Hitherto I have found no encouragement to hope that any such work as I should care to identify myself with, would find readers.
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