n a rock, and now used
as an asylum for lunatics.
All the beautiful and picturesque portion of our passage is now past, and
the royal villa of Pillnitz, with its many Chinese gables, looks
insignificant enough, after the grand scenes of nature. A chain of
hills, covered with the country-houses of citizens, adjoins it; and on
the right extends a large plain, at the far end of which we can dimly
descry the Saxon metropolis. But what is that in the distance? We have
hardly time to arrange our luggage, when the anchor is let go near the
fine old Dresden Bridge.
This bridge had not escaped unscathed by the furious river. One of the
centre arches had given way, and the cross and watchbox which surmounted
it were precipitated into the flood. At first, carriages still passed
over the bridge; it was not until some time afterwards that the full
extent of the damage was ascertained, and the passage of carriages over
the bridge discontinued for many months.
As I had seen the town of Dresden several years before, and the only
building new to me was the splendid theatre, I took advantage of the few
evening hours of my stay to visit this structure.
Standing in the midst of the beautiful Cathedral-square, its noble
rotunda-like form at once rivets the attention. The inner theatre is
surrounded by a superb broad and lofty corridor, with fine bow-windows
and straight broad staircases, leading in different directions towards
the galleries. The interior of the theatre is not so spacious as,
judging from the exterior, one would imagine it to be, but the
architecture and decorations are truly gorgeous and striking. The boxes
are all open, being separated from each other merely by a low partition;
the walls and chairs are covered with heavy silken draperies, and the
seats of the third and fourth galleries with a mixture of silk and
cotton. One single circumstance was disagreeable to me in an acoustic
point of view--I could hear the slightest whisper of the prompter as
distinctly as though some one had been behind me reading the play. The
curtain had scarcely fallen before the whole house was empty, and yet
there was no crowding to get out. This first drew my attention to the
numerous and excellently contrived doors.
April 16th.
The Dresden omnibuses may be cited as models of comfort; one is certain
of plenty of room, and there is no occasion to dread either
|