This bridge had not escaped unscathed by the furious river. One of
the centre arches had given way, and the cross and watchbox which
surmounted it were precipitated into the flood. At first, carriages
still passed over the bridge; it was not until some time afterwards
that the full extent of the damage was ascertained, and the passage
of carriages over the bridge discontinued for many months.
As I had seen the town of Dresden several years before, and the only
building new to me was the splendid theatre, I took advantage of the
few evening hours of my stay to visit this structure.
Standing in the midst of the beautiful Cathedral-square, its noble
rotunda-like form at once rivets the attention. The inner theatre
is surrounded by a superb broad and lofty corridor, with fine bow-
windows and straight broad staircases, leading in different
directions towards the galleries. The interior of the theatre is
not so spacious as, judging from the exterior, one would imagine it
to be, but the architecture and decorations are truly gorgeous and
striking. The boxes are all open, being separated from each other
merely by a low partition; the walls and chairs are covered with
heavy silken draperies, and the seats of the third and fourth
galleries with a mixture of silk and cotton. One single
circumstance was disagreeable to me in an acoustic point of view - I
could hear the slightest whisper of the prompter as distinctly as
though some one had been behind me reading the play. The curtain
had scarcely fallen before the whole house was empty, and yet there
was no crowding to get out. This first drew my attention to the
numerous and excellently contrived doors.
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.
