1816: the Grandest Tour

Germany: Chapter 15

Walking back through the light drizzle Goethe touched on a multitude of sites and wonders they could not miss on their southward tour. Cities and towns too many to name, artists and architects, ancient ruins and jewels of the Renaissance.

"It's important to be aware, mind you," he said, pouring out their tea back in his drawing room, "the farther south you travel, the more you will encounter poverty and wretchedness. And this of a degree much more shocking and abject than anything in Germany or France. It will alarm and dishearten you at first, there's no doubt. But if you can, try to see it as a Stoic philosopher would: that such trials from an inscrutable universe must and will be borne. In this light, the determination and fortitude of the people in their suffering inspires admiration – though we should not lose our simple compassion either."

"What has made these parts of Italy so impoverished?" said Tobias.

"A multiplicity of factors, my boy, I'm sure," said the reverend litterateur. "The chief and most shameful, I think, is the Old Church."

George wasn't surprised to hear the Catholic Church blamed for social ills – especially here in northern, Lutheran Germany. In England he'd heard much the same from comments upon Ireland: its poverty being the fault of hidebound, superstitious clerics, and so on.

"Surely the social order has some influence as well?" said George. "I've read that Italy's south has fewer cities, and a much stronger feudal nobility than the north."

"That is an astute point, sir," Goethe said with a nod. "These same nobles send their younger sons into the Church, and thus have the whole country sown up in their power, body and soul."

"It's been instructive to note the social differences so far," said George, "in each nation we've visited. France's nobles are back in ascendance, but I still saw a greater confidence in its lower orders – a strength of will that the high-born should best beware of."

"Did you indeed?" said Goethe, leaning forward in interest. "And how has it seemed in Germany?"

"Much different sir, to be sure. Madame de Staël first told me the class divisions were more pronounced here. We had proof positive of that in Erlangen, where the burgher students and young nobles were at such bitter odds with each other. But I knew of the social division in Germany long before this."

"Oh? And how was that?"

"Why, from reading of it in your work, sir," George said, bringing the subject at last to where he'd hoped. "In the thoughts of your immortal Werther!"

Goethe's eyes twinkled at such deft praise.

"I think I know the section you mean," he said. "When the young man stays past a certain hour at the salon, unaware that commoners must depart?"

"Exactly sir," said George beaming.

"Would it surprise you lads to learn that that episode was drawn from personal experience?" the old poet asked with a chuckle.

Neither Tobias nor George could think of a diplomatic response, so they simply laughed as well.

"Yes, Werther has spread my name farther than I could ever have imagined," Goethe said. "The Emperor of the French himself told me he'd read it seven times. I must admit I was flattered."

George could hold back no longer. Hesitantly at first, he told Goethe how much Werther had meant to him as a youth: how it seemed to open up new vistas of seeing the world, of romantic expression, heroic emotions, and above all, love.