A Bibliographical, Antiquarian and Picturesque Tour in France and Germany, Volume Three | Page 5

entered the town, and it was with regret that I was compelled to break
off such interesting conversation. In spite of the lateness of the hour
(ten o'clock) and the darkness of the evening, the worthy old Grecian
would not suffer me to accompany him home--although the route to his
house was devious, and in part precipitously steep, and the Professor's
sight was not remarkably good. When we parted, it was agreed that I
should breakfast with him on the morrow, at eight o'clock, as we
intended to quit Baden at nine.
The next morning, I was true to the hour. The Professor's coffee, bread,
butter, and eggs were excellent. Having requested our valet to settle

every thing at the inn, and bring the carriage and horses to the door of
M. Schweighæuser by nine o'clock, I took a hearty leave of our amiable
and venerable host, accompanied with mutual regrets at the shortness of
the visit--and with a resolution to cultivate an acquaintance so heartily
began. As we got into the carriage, I held up his portrait which Mr.
Lewis had taken,[2] and told him "he would be neither out of sight nor
out of mind" He smiled graciously--waved his right hand from the
balcony upon which he stood--and by half-past nine we found the town
of Baden in our rear. I must say that I never left a place, which had so
many attractions, with keener regret, and a more fixed determination to
revisit it. That "revisit" may possibly never arise; but I recommend all
English travellers to spend a week, at the least, at Baden--called
emphatically, Baden-Baden. The young may be gratified by the endless
amusements of society, in many of its most polished forms. The old
may be delighted by the contemplation of nature in one of her most
picturesque aspects, as well as invigorated by the waters which gush in
boiling streams from her rocky soil.
I shall not detain you a minute upon the road from Baden to this place;
although we were nearly twenty-four hours so detained. Rastadt and
Karlsruhe are the only towns worth mentioning in the route. The
former is chiefly distinguished for its huge and tasteless castle or
palace--a sort of Versailles in miniature; and the latter is singularly
pleasing to an Englishman's eye, from the trim and neat appearance of
the houses, walks, and streets; which latter have the footpaths almost
approaching to our pavement. You enter and quit the town through an
avenue of lofty and large stemmed poplars, at least a mile long. The
effect, although formal, is pleasing. They were the loftiest poplars
which I had ever beheld. The churches, public buildings, gardens, and
streets (of which latter the principal is a mile long) have all an air of
tidiness and comfort; although the very sight of them is sufficient to
freeze the blood of an antiquary. There is nothing, apparently, more
than ninety-nine years old! We dined at Karlsruhe, and slept at
Schweiberdingen, one stage on this side of Stuttgart: but for two or
three stages preceding Stuttgart, we were absolutely astonished at the
multitude of apple-trees, laden, even to the breaking down of the
branches, with goodly fruit, just beginning to ripen: and therefore

glittering in alternate hues of red and yellow--all along the road-side as
well as in private gardens. The vine too was equally fruitful, and
equally promising of an abundant harvest.
There was a drizzling rain when we entered THIS TOWN. We passed
the long range of royal stables to the right, and the royal palace to the
left; the latter, with the exception of a preposterously large gilt crown
placed upon the central part of a gilt cushion, in every respect worthy
of a royal residence. On, driving to the hotel of the Roi d'Angleterre,
we found every room and every bed occupied; and were advised to go
to the place from whence I now address you. But the Roman Emperor
is considered to be more fashionable: that is to say, the charges are
more extravagant. Another time, however, I will visit neither the one
nor the other; but take up my quarters at the King of Wirtemberg--the
neatest, cleanliest, and most comfortable hotel in Stuttgart. In this
house there is too much noise and bustle for a traveller whose nerves
are liable to be affected.
As a whole, Stuttgart is a thoroughly dull place. Its immediate environs
are composed of vine-covered hills, which, at this season of the year,
have an extremely picturesque appearance; but, in winter, when nothing
but a fallow-like looking earth is visible, the effect must be very dreary.
This town is large, and the streets--especially the Könings-strasse, or
King-Street,--are broad and generally well paved. The population may
be about twenty-two thousand. He who looks for antiquities, will