A Visit to germany

1799, 1800

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Here (in vertical order) are a selection of accounts of the Christmas period 1799 and 1800 in Germany. They are taken from the private journal of the then widow of Colonel St George of Carrick-on-Shannon. Single, and still in her twenties, she decided to embark on an adventure and tour Germany on her own (with various introductions to assist her progress). What was found of the journal was later privately published by her son who was to become the Dean of Westminster.

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Dec. 24. - I this day saw the little fete of Christmas-Eve, so interestingly alluded to in Werther. Mad. de Wallmoden knew it was a scene that would please me. On that evening all the children and young people in a family receive from their friends a variety of presents called les etrennes. They are arranged with taste upon tables highly illuminated, ornamented with boughs and shrubs, natural and artificial. Here you see, in agreeable confusion, shawls, ribbons, flowers, pelisses, ornaments, toys, sweetmeats, books - everything, in short. One table was spread for the Countesses de la Lippe, two wards of the Field-Marshall, and one for each of his children and grandchildren. When all is arranged the young people are admitted, and nothing can form a greater variety of pleasing pictures; and then the delight of the children, their unstudied expressions of gratitude, and the pleasure of the parents in witnessing the delicious sensations of that bewitching age.

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It was of course quite dark when I set out, and the day seemed to dawn from earth instead of heaven, in consequence of the ground being covered with snow. I travelled eight German, or thirty-eight English, miles with the same horses, rested an hour, and arrived about six at Brunswick.

1800 Berlin

Dec. 28. - Went to Court, which is here an evening assembly. I was presented to the King and Queen. He is a fine tall military man, plain and reserved in his manners and address. She reminded me of Burke's 'star, glittering with life, splendour, and joy,' and realized all the fanciful ideas one forms in one's infancy, of the young, gay, beautiful, and magnificent queens in the Arabian Nights. She is an angel of loveliness, mildness, and grace; tall and svelte, yet sufficiently embonpoint; her hair is light, her complexion fair and faultless; an inexpressible air of sweetness reigns in her countenance, and forms its predominant character. As perfect beauty in nature is a chimaera, like the philosopher's stone, and as it is rarely to be found but in the higher works of art, I take nothing from her charms in saying she is not faultless. An ill-shaped mouth, indifferent teeth, a broad forehead and large limbs are the only defects the severest critcism can discover; while her hair, her height, her movements, her shoulders, her waist, are all unexceptionable. These slight faults only prove she is a woman and not a statue, and altogether she is one of the loveliest creatures I have ever seen. Her dress was in the best taste. Her hair was dressed in the fullest and most varied of the Grecian forms, going very far back, and ornamented with a heron's feather, and a number of immense diamond stars, so placed as to form a bandeau quite round, which came close to her temples. She wore a chemise of crape, richly embroidered in emerald-green foil, and a moldave (simply a body, train, and short sleeves) of pale pink silk, slightly sparkling with gold, and trimmed all around with sable. Her neck was richly ornamented with jewels. She speaks very graciously and politely to every one. I was also presented to the Princess of Orange, a beautiful young woman.

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Dec. 31. - Went to a ball at Mad. Angerstroms, the Swedish Minister's wife. Every one seemed to partake in the design of finishing the century with festivity and cheerfulness. The company was the elite of the Berlin society, and the ball was unusually animated and brilliant. I had just danced one dance with Mr. Caulfield, and was resting myself during the second in an outer room, when I heard that M. d'Orville, a young officer, just one-and-twenty, had fallen down in a fainting fit in the dance. After some moments he was removed from the ball-room into Mad. Angerstrom's boudoir, where all the common remedies of salts, essences, cold water, and fresh air were tried without effect. Still no one was much alarmed. However, a physician and surgeon were called in. They exhausted in vain all the resources of their art; he was irrecoverably gone, and afforded an awful example of the uncertainty of human life. Mad. Angerstrom, whose nerves had been lately shaken by the death of a favourite son, was affected in a dreadful way. She fainted, and on her recovery knew nothing of what had passed, but was impressed with the idea that something had happened to her children. Her husband went to their apartment, and brought them to her from their beds, wrapped in large cloaks. He reminded me of Lewis's verses- ' Tis the father who holds his young son in his arms, And close in his mantle has wrapt him up warm.' At first she did not know her children, and she continued to utter such incoherent rhapsodies as were both shocking and pathetic. The shrieks, faintings, tears, and hysterics of every woman who either had really weak nerves, or who wished to display her feelings, completed the horror of the scene. I wished to escape. Lord Carysfort and Prince Radziwill offered me their carriages, but I refused one, and there was a mistake about the other. At last the contagion of the scene spread to me. I wept violently, and remember no more than that I was wrapped up by Mr. Ridley and Mr. Caulfield, who both showed infinite good nature, in a large cloak, and put into a carriage; that Mr. Ridley accompanied me home, where Mr. Kinnaird and he remained with me till a few minutes past twelve, that I might not be left to begin the new century a prey to melancholy refelection.