Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 64, No. 397, November 1848. Various
also seem to have adopted a kind of mediæval garb, more graceful than that of the Germans, and are, to outward appearance, no despicable specimens of humanity. They vapour and bluster, largely about their exertions for Italian independence, though I never could meet with one who had actually struck a blow in its behalf. They were furious at Charles Albert, whom they characterised as a "traditore sceleratissimo," and vaunted that, but for him and his Piedmontese troops, they would long ago have freed their country from the grasp of the Austrians. I was not altogether able to comprehend by what process of ratiocination these illustrious exiles arrived at this result. It would appear odd if they could not accomplish, with the aid of allies, the very same task for which they asserted their notorious unassisted competency. This is a political riddle of such a nature, that I shall not attempt to solve it.
It is, however, comfortable to remark, that Swiss industry, in many of its branches, still continues undiminished. The squat and unwholesome hunter, who for years has infested the Rosenthal, still pursues his prey, in the shape of the unwary traveller, with perpetual impudence and importunity. Out of his clutches you cannot get, until you have purchased, at triple its artificial value, the wooden effigy of a chamois, a horn whistle, or the image of an Alpine cow; and even after you have made your escape, crossed the bridge, and are in full retreat up the valley, you hear him clamouring behind you with offers of a staff to sell. From every cottage-door rush forth hordes of uncompromising children; nay, they surprise you in the very wastes, far from any human dwelling, and their only cry is "Batzen!" Approach a waterfall, and you are immediately surrounded by a plump of those juvenile Cossacks, seizing hold of your skirts, thrusting their hands upwards in your face, and denying you one moment's leisure to survey the scene. Their yelp for pence is heard above the sullen roaring of the cataract. In vain you take to flight – they cleave to you like a swarm of midges. You leap brook, scale bank, and scour across the meadow towards the road, but you fare no better than the Baron of Cranstoun in his race with the Goblin Page; and at last are compelled to ransom yourself by parting with the whole of the change in your possession.
If I can judge from the present temper of the Swiss, they are not likely to return a very complacent answer to the charge made against them by the central power at Frankfort, of having harboured Struve and his gang. The German troubles have kept back so many visitors from their country, that the Swiss are not inclined to be particular as to the political opinions of any one who may favour them with a sojourn; and in the present state of matters it is rather difficult to determine who are rebels or the reverse. Bitterly at this moment is Switzerland execrating a revolution which has entailed upon her consequences almost equivalent to the total failure of a harvest.
After spending a fortnight among the mountains, I retraced my steps to Frankfort. There I discovered that, in the interim, some little change had taken place in the aspect of political affairs. Prussia had at length taken heart of grace, and had remonstrated against the arbitrary refusal of the armistice with Denmark, which she had been expressly empowered, by the authority of the Reichsverweser, to conclude. This tardy recognition of the laws of honour had, of course, given enormous umbrage to the Frankforters, who now considered themselves as the supreme arbiters of peace or war in Europe; the more so, because they were not called upon to pay a single farthing of the necessary expenses. They appeared to think that, jure divino, they were entitled to the gratuitous services of the Prussian and Hanoverian armies; and, with that sublime disregard of cost which we are all apt to feel when negotiating with our neighbours' money, they were furious at any interruption of the war unworthily commenced against their small but spirited antagonist. Such, at least, was the feeling among the burghers, in which they were powerfully encouraged by the co-operation of the women. It is a singular fact that, in times of revolution, the fair sex is always inclined to push matters to greater extremity than the other, for what reason it is literally impossible to say. I had the pleasure of spending an evening at a social reunion in Frankfort, and can aver that the sentiments which emanated from the ladies would have done no discredit to Demoiselle Theroigne de Mericourt in the midst of the Reign of Terror.
But other motives than those of mere abstract democracy had some influence with the members of the parliament. Many of them who, in the first instance, had voted for the peremptory infraction of the armistice, were fully aware that they could not afford as yet to affront Prussia, or to give her an open pretext for resiling from the movement party. Such a step would have been tantamount to annihilation, and therefore they were disposed to succumb. Others, I verily believe, thought seriously upon their five florins a-day. Hitherto Prussia had been the only state which had granted a monetary contingent, and to refuse compliance with her wishes would inevitably involve a sacrifice of the goose that furnished the supply of metallic eggs. Therefore, after a long and rather furious debate, the assembly retracted their former decision, and consented to a cessation of hostilities.
A parliament, chosen upon the basis of universal suffrage, is only safe when its opinions coincide with those of the mob. In the present instance they were directly counter to the sweet will of the populace, and of course the decision was received with every symptom of turbulence.
"Professor," said I to my learned friend, on the evening after this memorable debate, "you have given one sensible vote to-day, and I hope you will never repent of it. But, if you will take my advice, you will do well to absent yourself from the parliament to-morrow. There are certain symptoms going on in the streets which I do not altogether like, for they put me forcibly in mind of what I saw in Paris this last spring; and, unless a German mob differs essentially from a French one, we shall smell gunpowder to-morrow. I should be sorry to, see my ancient preceptor fragmentally distributed as an offering to the goddess of discord."
"Don't speak of it, August Reignold, my dear boy!" said the Professor in manifest terror. "I wouldn't mind much being hauled up to a lamp-post, for I am heavy enough to break any in Frankfort down; but the bare notion of dismemberment fills my soul with fear. Well says the poet, varium et mutabile; and he might safely have applied it to the people. Will you believe that I, whose whole soul is engrossed with the thoughts of unity and the public weal, was actually hissed and hooted at as a traitor, when I emerged to-day from the assembly?"
"It is the penalty you must pay for your political greatness," I replied. "But, if I were you, I should back out of the thing altogether. Cobbling constitutions is rather dangerous work in such times as these; and it strikes me that your valuable health may be somewhat impaired by your exertions."
"Heaven knows," said the Professor devoutly, "that I would willingly die for my country – that is, in my bed. But I do begin to perceive that I am overworking this frail tenement of clay. Once let this crisis be past, and I shall return to the university, resume my philosophic labours, and finish my inchoate treatise upon the 'Natural History of Axioms.'"
"You will do wisely, Professor, and humanity will owe you a debt: only don't employ that fellow Blum as your publisher. Apropos, what is Simon, of Treves saying to this state of matters?"
"Simon of Treves," replied my learned friend, "is little better than an arrogant coxcomb. He had the inconceivable audacity to laugh in my face, when I proposed, on the ground of common ancestry, to open negotiations with the Thracians, and to ask me if it would not be desirable to include the whole of the Peloponnesus."
"He must indeed be a blockhead! Well, Professor, keep quiet for the evening, and don't show yourself in the streets. I am going to take a little stroll of observation before bed, and to-morrow morning we shall hold a committee of personal safety."
On ordinary occasions, the streets of Frankfort are utterly deserted by ten o'clock. This night, however, the case was different. Groups of ill-looking, ruffianly fellows, were collected at the corners of the streets; and more than once, beneath the blouse, I could detect the glitter of a furtive weapon. There were lights and bustle in the club-houses, and every thing betokened the approach of a popular emeute.
"You will do well," said I to the Swiss porter of the Russischer Hof on re-entering, "to warn any strangers in your house to keep within doors to-morrow. Unless I am strangely mistaken, we shall have a repetition of the scenes in Paris to-morrow. In the mean time, I shall trouble you for my key."
I rose next morning at six, and looked out of my window, half expecting to see a barricade; but for once I was disappointed – the Germans are a much slower set than the French. At nine,