Newspaper Page Text
1852.]
try deserves the title of Franconian Swit
zerland, which it bears. It is beautified
with hill and dale. Now a ravine rises,
with its dark fir trees, into a mountain,
now a wide spreading lawn appears, dot
ted with lakelets, which are fiinged with
the drooping willows, and now a crag,
with its embattled castle, towers above
the village, which with its clustered cot
tages lies like a vassal at its feet.
Through the day a beautiful panorama
was passing before us, with castellated
cliffs and nests of Bavarian cottages, and
churches with gothic spires. On each
side of the raii-ioad, the spreading land
scape was bright as an emerald, a pic
ture for Claude Lorraine. The rural fields
were threaded by meandering streamlets,
on whose surface white water birds sport
ed, while the cattle browsing quietly on
fenceless grounds formed groups, which
the pencil of Paul Potter would have
loved to copy. Night closed in and shut
| out passing pictures. It was well, for
the rapidity with which rail-road views
are whirled before us, crowds the cham
bers of the brain and confuses the mind.
We reached Nuremberg at nine, and af
’ ter a refreshing sleep, opened our eyes
in the morning on that ancient city, the
; “Gothic Athens.” Every thing seemed
a thousand years old. We commenced
our antiquarian tour early, and it requir
ed no great (light of imagination to live
awhile in another century. The quaint
S strange city of the past, surrounded by
massive feudal walls, flanked with em
battled turrets, seemed, with its arched
gateways and ramparts frowning with can
non-like watch towers, to bid defiance to
knights of the middle ages. The city
wall formerly boasted of three hundred
and sixty-live turrets, and seventy now
remain.
Our first visit was to the noble Gothic
Church of St. Lawrence. It is stri
king, with its richly wrought portal, sur
mounted by a rose window, which is
crowned by an arched pediment rising
between the towers. The lofty portal
is covered w ith bronze and stone statues,
wrought with artistic skill, and the rose,
or Catharine wheel, is richly painted.
As the magnificent door opens, you ex
-1 perience at once the effect produced by
the interior of a church built in the pure
Gothic style. You see the whole at one
view. The long drawn, overarched aisles,
SOUTHERN LITERARY GAZETTE.
are not interrupted and cut into slips,
and disfigured by pews. The impression
produced by the St. Lawrence is peculiar.
It is dark with its hundred windows —
dense and forest-like with its shadows.
The intense solemnity which a gothic
pile ever produces, is in this case in
creased, doubtless by the dark marble
which forms its clustered pillars and
walls, and by the deep shade w hich its
many mullions throws over its windows,
and by the chastened light which its
painted glass admits. 1 think Ido not
exaggerate, when I speak of its hundred
windows, for I counted nearly that num
ber. Some of these w'indows are spa
cious, and others plaeed almost in the
very roof, are of smaller size. This
church was founded by Prince Adolphus,
in 127*2, but 203 years elapsed before it
was completed. The windows in the
choir are also foundations —rich gifts of
the noble families at Nuremberg —all
seeming to have vied with each other in
the costliness and beauty of their offer
ings. As the rich Jews brought to the
Temple adornments, hanging within the
vine carvings of the porch, clusters of
grapes, formed of precious stones; now
a bunch of the purple amethyst, now one
of pure green, and again, a single grape
of the costly ruby ; so did the patricians
of Nuremburg bring into their churches
offerings as beautiful as wealth could pro
cure, or skill produce. The Yolkamer
window arrested my attention, and 1 se
lected it to admire above all others,
and Murray says “that for the depth
and brightness of its colours, and for
excellence of design, it is esteemed one
of the finest specimens of glass painting
to be found in Europe. 5 ’ For this art
Nuremberg was celebrated. The Vol
kamer window represents so many scenes,
that it impressed me less vividly than
the beautiful window of St. James, at
Antwerp, on which the Last Supper is
painted, and occupies the whole width of
the large window. That picture we see
and understand at once, though it is plea
sant to linger around it. The Yolkamer
window requires study, but yet it is so
magnificent with its Sepia shades, and
its golden, purple, rose, russet and crim
son hues, that the mingled colours en
chant you. One of the scenes represented,
is Joseph lying in state on his catafalque,
richly dressed. Two other scenes are
embowered by a golden canopy upon a
blue sky. The window at the summit is
furnished by six distinct paintings in go
thic arches —figures in niches. The two
centre gothic shrines are golden, on
each side the arches are changed to trans
parent cloud-like silver 3 and again on the
exterior are golden hues. For this win
dow an English gentleman offered forty
thousand goldings, but sordid indeed must
be the spirits, who unless compelled by
dire necessity, would for gold sell those
imprisoned rainbows, which have for
nearly four centuries glowed in their
crystal shrines. Many of the descendants
of the ancient Nuremburg noblesse, are
now living in the city, some of them en
gaged in active mercantile life.
I can not pass without notice, the ele
gant Gothic ornament, Sacraments Haus
tein, which resembles wrought ivory, and
rises on the wall in a graceful spire. So
pure, so aerial it is, that it seems in this
massive church, which is cut out of dark
marble, like a visitant from another
sphere. It is sixty four feet high, and
cost the artist, Adam Craft, many years
of labour. Its original design was to re
ceive the holy wafer. The church is now
Lutheran, but it remains as a graceful or
nament. The bride’s door of this church
is very beautiful, and we entered in the
midst of a marriage service. One might
well chose for such a ceremony, a spot
like that —, beside that white marble
altar, beneath those rainbow tinted win
dows. The bride enters by a beautiful
door, but goes out at another. After
the ceremony in Germany she is no lon
ger called bride. Her betrothal is made
public by means of the newspaper, and
she is called bride till the day of her mar
riage.
The Catholic Church, or Frauen kirch,
is rich in carved decorations and in pic
tures, and St. Sebaid, a Lutheran Church,
is a splendid old Gothic structure. The
columns are clustered like those of St,
Lawrence, but are of white marble. The
windows also are similar, exquisitely
painted, and were gifts too of individuals.
Lest I weary you, I will mention only
one remarkable piece of art, and then
leave the Church. This is the shrine of
St. Sebaid —the master piece of Peter
Vischer. It stands in the centre of the
choir, and contains the relics of the Saint
who came thither from Denmark in the
269