Fremont journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County [Ohio]) 1853-1866, 1857-01-02
Letters from Bayard Taylor
NUMBER V.
Interviews with German Authors.
Correspondence Of the y. Y. Tribune.
BERLIN. Nov. 90. 1856.

Correspondence of the y. Y. Tribune.
BERLIN, Nov. 90, 1856.
l left Gotha on the 14th, in the first
snow-storm of the season. Ny trees were
bare at last, the fountain was locked up fol
the Winter, and the quaint garden-housc
| stood deserted on the linden avenue. The
close of Autumn warned us, birds of passage
to take our flight, not to the South but tc
the North. So the trunks were packed, the
adieux were said, and we started for the
Aurora Borealis, by way of Coburg and
Dresden.
visited Coburg, principally for the sake
of seeing again the noble old poet, RUcK.
ERT, whom | had met four years be.
fore, and who, hearing was in Gotha, kind
ly asked me to visit him before leaving
Germany. found him living the same
studious, secluded life in the little village
Neuasass, buried in his Oriental manuscripts
and rarely seen by men. His wife (ho
Luise of his earlier pocms) welcomed me
with cordiality, and two blooming daugh-
tcrs kept up a lively conversation until the
poet appeared. How well remember that
frame, tall and slender as Schller's but
erect as an Arab chieftain's; that stately
head, with the gray hair parted in front and
falling in silver masses on the shoulders; tho
rongly-modolcd brow, under which looks
out eyes full of soft, lambent fire, like
those of n seer; the straight, strong nose
firm, stern lips and projecting chin, mild
er counterpart of Andrew Jackson-thC
head of thinker and poet.
Ruckert must be nearly, if not quite sew.
enty years of age. He is still (I venture to
saw rs productive as ever, although he has
published little for some years past. His
habits of study have made him shy and alb.
stracted, but the same habits give to his
conversation a vigor of thought, a richness
of Illustration, and glow of fancy, which /
think could scarcely have been surpassed by
the monologues Of Colcridge. With his
soft, bright eyes directed steadily before
him, as if he saw the horizon of the desert,
he talked of the Arabs who lived before Mo-
hommed with the same familiar intelligence
as he would speak of his contemporaries
The lifting of his glance, as he turned to-
ward me now and then, in the earnestness
of his discourse, was like an Eastern sun
rise. The East lives in his soul, and warns
his old age with its eternal summer
UHLAND only disputes with Ruckert the
title of being the first of living German
poets. He is more simple and pathetic, and
his verses appeal more directly to the Ger
man heart. Ruckert, on the other hand, is
half an Asiatic, and in splendor of his
imagination, as well as his wonderful com.
mand of the dexterities of his native Ian,
guage, is scarcely surpassed by f. Harir
himself. There can be no com parison be,
tween the two; they stand on different ped
estals. Personally, also the men have nc
resemblance. | was in Tubingen four year.
ago-the home of Uhland-and could not
find it in my heart to leave without speak
ing to tho man whose "Minstrel's Curse
and Roland" had been haunting my brair
for so many years. | wrote a note stating
my desire, and Immediately received an in
vitation to call upon him. found him il
house overlooking the valley of the Nee
kar in little, dark, barely furnished libra
ry He came forward to meet me--a small
wrinkled, dry, old man Of at least seventy
with bald head and curious Fuckers in the
corners of his mouth and eyes. But the
eyes were as soft, blue and clear as a chld's
and there was winning, chld-like simple
ity in his manner, despite certain awk-
wardness and frigidity which at first showed
ed itself.
We sat down together on the little leath-
er-covered sofa behind his desk, and he talk.
ed very pleasantly for an hour, I asked
whether he had written anything recently
or whether he had, perhaps, grown weary Of
that