A Bibliographical, Antiquarian and Picturesque Tour in France and Germany, Volume Three | Page 3

excellently good vocal
and instrumental music, from the front seat of a transverse gallery.
There was much in this church which had an English air about it: but
my attention was chiefly directed to some bronze monuments towards
the eastern extremity, near the altar; and fenced off, if I remember
rightly, by some rails from the nave and side aisles. Of these
monuments, the earliest is that of _Frederick, Bishop of Treves_. He

died in 1517, in his 59th year. The figure of him is recumbent: with a
mitre on his head, and a quilted mail for his apron. The body is also
protected, in parts, with plate armour. He wears a ring upon each of the
first three fingers of his right hand. It is an admirable piece of
workmanship: bold, sharp, correct, and striking in all its parts. Near this
episcopal monument is another, also of bronze, of a more imposing
character; namely, of Leopold William Margrave or Duke of Baden,
who died in 1671, and of the Duchess, his wife. The figure of Leopold,
evidently a striking portrait, is large, heavy, and ungracious; but that of
his wife makes ample amends--for a more beautifully expressive and
interesting bronze figure, has surely never been reared upon a
monumental pedestal. She is kneeling, and her hands are closed--in the
act of prayer. The head is gently turned aside, as well as inclined: the
mouth is very beautiful, and has an uncommon sweetness of expression:
the hair, behind, is singular but not inelegant. The following is a part of
the inscription: "_Vivit post funera virtus. Numinis hinc pietas conjugis
inde trahit_." I would give half a dozen ducats out of the supplemental
supply of Madame Francs to have a fine and faithful copy of this very
graceful and interesting monumental figure. As I left the church, the
second (Catholic) congregation was entering for divine worship.
Meanwhile the heavens were "black with clouds;" the morning till
eleven o'clock, having been insufferably hot and a tremendous thunder
storm--which threatened to deluge the whole place with rain--moved, in
slow and sullen majesty, quite round and round the town, without
producing any other effect than that of a few sharp flashes, and
growling peals, at a distance. But the darkened and flitting shadows
upon the fir trees, on the hills, during the slow wheeling of the
threatening storm, had a magnificently picturesque appearance.
The walks, lawns, and rustic benches about Baden, are singularly pretty
and convenient. Here was a play-house; there, a temple; yonder, a
tavern, whither the Badenois resorted to enjoy their Sunday dinner. One
of these taverns was unusually large and convenient. I entered, as a
stranger, to look around me: and was instantly struck by the notes of
the deepest-toned bass voice I had ever heard--accompanied by some
rapidly executed passages upon the harp. These ceased--and the softer
strains of a young female voice succeeded. Yonder was a master

singer[1]--as I deemed him--somewhat stooping from age; with white
hairs, but with a countenance strongly characteristic of intellectual
energy of some kind. He was sitting in a chair. By the side of him stood
the young female, about fourteen, from whose voice the strains, just
heard, had proceeded. They sang alternately, and afterwards together:
the man holding down his head as he struck the chords of his harp with
a bold and vigorous hand. I learnt that they were uncle and niece. I
shall not readily forget the effect of these figures, or of the songs which
they sang; especially the sonorous notes of the mastersinger, or
minstrel. He had a voice of most extraordinary compass. I quickly
perceived that I was now in the land of music; but the guests seemed to
be better pleased with their food than with the songs of this old bard,
for he had scarcely received a half florin since I noticed him.
Professor Schweighæuser came to visit me at the appointed hour of six,
in order to have an evening stroll together to a convent, about two miles
off, which is considered to be the fashionable evening walk and ride of
the place. I shall long have reason to remember this walk; as well from
the instructive discourse of my venerable and deeply learned guide, as
from the beauty of the scenery and variety of the company. As the heat
of the day subsided, the company quitted their tables in great crowds.
The mall was full. Here was Eugene Beauharnois, drawn in a carriage
by four black steeds, with traces of an unusual length between the
leaders and wheel horses. A grand Duke was parading to the right: to
the left, a Marchioness was laughing à pleine gorge. Here walked a
Count, and there rode a General. Bavarians, Austrians, French, and
English--intermixed with the tradesmen of Baden,