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Since leaving Berlin, he has been thinking of finding a new home. But how long did it take before he found her! As the difficulties of life grew, suffering and physical adversity increased, he lacked a firm flock. And yet he did not want to commit himself.

For a moment the prospect of a permanent position and a sphere of action commensurate with his inclinations opened up. At the Stadttheater in Frankfurt a. In 1801 M. was looking for a director who should not be an actor but a dramaturgically educated connoisseur of the theater. Brentano, a warm friend of Tieck’s since the days of Jena, conceived the idea of ​​giving him this post. Even Frommann, who had connections in Frankfurt, took care of the matter. Through him she came to Goethe, whose advice had already been obtained on similar occasions. However, in a letter addressed to Tieck, he did not want to say that he was accepting the difficult and vacillating position. During the negotiations, however, a counterparty rushed to occupy the office in their favor.

Soon after, his old friend Burgsdorff came back to him. For a long time they had lost sight of each other; everyone had gone his way. While Tieck composed and fought with himself, Burgsdorff had driven the inner restlessness, the joy of full life and his enjoyment into the world; he had thwarted Western Europe. His inclination, not offices, or passages, led him into the ordinary fields of ambition. He also wanted to be free and independent, to combine experience and study, education and enjoyment, to get to know life in his changing forms at the sources. His adventurous travel life was reminiscent of the seventeenth-century German noblemen, who only found their peace in their monotonous fatherland in their remote country estates when they had come to know the rich South and West.

After returning from Göttingen he had lived alternately in Berlin and Dresden. He was one of the witty and elegant young men who gathered around Rachel. Then he accompanied Wilhelm von Humboldt with Friedrich Tieck to Vienna and Paris. Here he lived in the midst of the whirlwind of the mightiest world events as a quiet and enjoyable observer. The course of the revolution had cooled his former enthusiasm. In 1799 he went to Spain, in late autumn to London, where he spent the winter and summer of the following year in pleasant conditions. The recommendations he brought with him, the connections he had in his home, opened up the higher circles. He spoke with English, German and French. In the house of the Prussian envoy Jakobi, the Prussians living in London met, to which other Germans also joined. Here he saw Count Neal, well acquainted with the circumstances of the Prussian court, Counts Degenfeld and Einsiedel, and the Danish envoy Wedell.

Another collection point of the Prussians was the small court, which the Margrave Karl Alexander von Ansbach and Baireuth kept in his seclusion. After he laid down the government of his ancestral lands, and as the last [p. 301] of the Markgräflichen line to Prussia, he married the widow of Lord Craven, and made his residence in England. Brandenburgh-House, in Benham, Berkshire on the Thames, was also known to the English as the princely seat of taste and elegance; they praised the park, the galleries, the excellent stables. The Margrave led his court with the usual glitter of little German princes, but without anxiety or pretension in a country where one was just not inclined to take any consideration of him.

Burgsdorff was also introduced here. The first reception happened at the gaming table. The tone was free and casual, and he liked to spend a few days in this hospitable home. The margrave was comfortable, talkative, but not without a princely attitude. After the first dinner he drew Burgsdorff into a conversation about Germany and the revolution. With vehemence he spoke about the German universities; he called the spirit of their scholars a revolutionary, especially he referred to Schlözer and his state advertisements.

The Margravine held the middle between the English lady and the upstart German princess. She spoke in the spirit of aristocratic opposition. She complained about the increasing pressure of the taxis on the related downfall of the Gentry, which also affected her family. Burgsdorff was also acquainted with her son’s first marriage, Mr. Keppel, and some of her relatives. An old chamberlain, a friend of the margrave, whose resident he had been in Italy for a long time, the image of a German court official of the last century, escorted him through the palace and park. Everything was rich, comfortable, almost lavishly furnished. There was a small theater that was built after the pattern of Drurylane. There was no lack of a hunting party in which the guest took part.

Later Burgsdorff was introduced by the Prussian envoy to the Duke of York, then to King George. This gave him the opportunity to witness a long conversation between the king, the Prussian, and the Russian envoy Vorontsov. It concerned the revolution and some of the institutions which belonged to its consequences, the departmental enlightenment, the new calendar and others of the kind.

Above all, the traveler wished to hear Pitt, the leader of the struggle against the revolution. In January 1800, the parliament was opened. After many unsuccessful attempts, he managed to see the big man on his battlefield. The subject of the negotiations was not important, but Pitt talked at length. All the more attention could rest with the speaker. At the first sight, he did not meet the expectations the observer brought with him. His nature bore neither the mark of the noble or the beautiful, nor had his face the characteristic ugliness of many other distinguished people. His movements were stiff and angular, sometimes touching the caricature. The voice was strong and resonant, almost did not seem to suit his body. It was the moral decency, the dignity that permeated everything, and gave it a high expression. He showed himself to be the master of speech on a grand scale, mastering content and form, standing high above them. His reasons were striking; He rose from the mildest utterances to the strongest, as the moment required. Sometimes adopted his speech the Lehrton; but this seemed necessary, since he first brought the matter to a large part of the house, and gave the guiding points.

A strange circle formed the French emigrants, who lived in large numbers in London. Burgsdorff associated with them without attuning their exaggerated views. The most important man was undoubtedly the Geneva Ivernois, known as a political and economic writer. Banished from France, he now stood with the Swedish Legation in London. He was educated on all sides and had great talent. Closest to him came Montansier, a former constitutionalist; the old-French emigrant in his full caricature of one-sidedness was trained in the Abbé de Lisle. In their hopeless exile, these emigres lived among themselves in the strangest strife, sometimes assuming a fierce character. For them the most important question was who was pure and who was not, how far somebody had gone with the revolution, how early or how late he had emigrated, or whether he had even served for a while. In the various explanations of the pur political faith and fanaticism came to the full extent to light. According to de Lisle, no one could claim to be pure, who had ever thought of the English constitution, or even thought of the possibility of its introduction into France. These were him at most for moderants. Bailly was called scelerat, Bonaparte homme infame.

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Mostly, however, art and life on a large scale claimed the traveler. The inclination of the younger generation in Berlin for theater and literature did not leave him in London either. In the colorful change of a noisy [p. He kept time enough throughout the world to read the Shakspeare with zeal. He often visited the theaters; he saw Kemble as Richard III, the Siddons in their lead roles in Shakspeare’s plays. He visited churches, galleries and factories, did not miss markets and exhibitions, was a listener at the trial hearings, and onlookers when hanged men were cut off the gallows. He made himself acquainted with the life of the cosmopolitan city on all sides. Finally a journey to the provinces and to Scotland followed. For this he had joined with Ivernois and a compatriot, the district administrator of Vincke from Minden. One visited Oxford and Birmingham, the cave of Castleton, saw the ancient castles and country residences of rich and art loving Lords, and spent some time in Edinburgh. From here they went to the highlands. Soon after, Burgsdorff returned home, which he had not seen for several years.

He wanted to try to lead the quieter life of the husbandman, the hunter, on his soil. He owned the estate Ziebingen in the Neumark. Soon, however, he sold it to his uncle, Count Finkenstein. In 1801 he saw his melancholy childhood friend in Dresden after a long separation. Both had experienced many and very different things; both had changed in some ways, and yet remained basically the same. But the old friendship was the same. Burgsdorff urged his friend to follow him to Ziebingen, where he was still living, and for a while set up his home with him. Tieck accepted this invitation, and she became an occasion for a new friendship.

In 1802 he learned Count Finkenstein in know Madlitz near Frankfurt on the Oder. The count was an educated and worthy man. A son of that well-known minister of Frederick the Great, he had earlier taken the legal career when Rath took the famous process of the miller Arnold Antheil and showed himself firm and unflinching. Now he had left the civil service, and lived on his estates, whose administration filled his leisure beside literary studies and hobbies. In Madlitz he put on a famous park. Practicing agriculture, he practically read and studied the rural poets of the Romans and Greeks, and even tried to translate them. His family was one of the loveliest, the mother like her three daughters. Everything seemed to have united to make their appearance harmonious. Nothing that offered art, poetry and literature was alien to them. As Goethe’s significance here was a recognized and settled one, the more recent poems had already found their way into the book. Tieck’s “Romantic Poems” were read, and the songs from “Sternbald” were known by heart. The serious music of the old Italian masters of the strict ecclesiastical style was at home here. One heard the works of Marcello, Lotti and Palestrina that were otherwise unknown in northern Germany.

With the most amiable and purest hospitality, the poet was taken in, and a spiritual intercourse ensued, which at that time was soothing and uplifting to him. The old count, open and free, did not shut himself off from the suggestions of the modern age, because he was not limited by learned theories and prejudices. He gladly accepted Tieck’s views after getting to know him better and followed his enthusiastic praise of Shak [p. 306] speare and the Middle Ages into the older English and German poetry.

Towards the end of the year 1802 Tieck moved to Burgsdorff’s invitation with wife and child for a long time to Ziebingen. From the memories of the old friendship and the present one came to the future, and it developed the plan of a common tour through Germany. Since the academic years, Tieck had only moved between Berlin and Jena, Hamburg and Dresden.

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In June 1803 they left. They went via Guben to Dresden, where Tieck saw Fouqué, who at that time was still a Prussian lieutenant, inspired by A. W. Schlegel, had joined the younger poets. He was just starting to get acquainted with the older German poetry and the Nordic legends.

Then they hit the road to Bohemia. In the most glorious weather, they crossed the Nollendorfer Heights, and looked down into the rich Bohemian land, which spread at their feet. But as the sun sank, the first intoxication of delight was followed by a morose adventure. Instead of reaching Teplitz in the evening, as they wished, they did not arrive there until the night. Unknowing the way, the carter stopped in deep darkness before a large gate, which was to be the entrance to the inn. After many inquiries and inquiries it was found that one stood in front of the churchyard and had demanded admission.

In Karlsbad they met Novalis’ younger brother, Karl von Hardenberg, who had tried to be a poet under the name of Rostorf, without owning the talent and profoundness of his brother. An excellent character, he lived in the memory of the divorced. The connection into which Tieck had come with him through the publication of the estate, became a personal and friendly one.

Then they entered the Fichtelgebirge and the well-known soil of Franconia. They saw the ruin of Berneck, Erlangen, Pommersfelde again, and the beloved Nuremberg. Everywhere old memories were refreshed, and old acquaintances renewed. Then we went to Bamberg, on to Würzburg and through the Spessart to Heidelberg, where they saw Daub and Creuzer. In Heilbronn they returned. They passed through the Kocherthal, and in memory of Gotz and Goethe, the hero and the poet, they visited Jaxthausen. In Kissingen they stood at the grave of Auguste Böhmer, and finally came to Liebenstein, where they met again, as had been arranged, with Hardenberg.

Through this they were presented to the Duke of Saxony-Meiningen. Tieck soon encountered this in a boardroom, where a puppet theater was pitched, which he himself could not leave unnoticed. Here the Duke sat as a spectator, to share a raw art enjoyment with bathers, soldiers, and peasant whores, in the midst of an impenetrable taboo-steam, which he himself did not greatly increase.

By chance Tieck became acquainted in a public garden with the writer Cramer, who lived as a forester in Meiningen. An inexhaustible author of raw and tasteless chivalric novels, this man had often been the subject of his humorous attacks, as another of the same blow he had formerly seen in Tharand dangled. In eager conversation Cramer sat in the circle of his acquaintances. The face was pockmarked, the Expression flat and ordinary, the voice hard and rough. He filled the pauses of the speech with long puffs from a large meerschaum pipe; he blew smoke around in thick clouds of smoke. He spoke in a curious mixture of the most exuberant and the lowest phrases, swearwords in his mouth were the expression of recognition. He told me about his old friends. They were all glorious, sublime, idealistic force-men; they seemed to be the archetypes of his knights and champions. Unfortunately, most of them had ended miserably in the prison or at the hospital. He praised one before all, who had thought the greatest unthinkable thoughts; he would have been a perfectly ideal person if he had not had a foul-smelling breath.

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But the journey was to end with an adventure similar to the shipwreck that had decided ten years earlier the student trip through western Germany. Burgsdorff wanted to try his luck at the bank in Liebenstein. But within a short time, he lost all the travel money except for a scant rest. As fast as possible, they hurried to Dresden, where they hoped to find friends and support. But the money melted even faster. In Chemnitz the travelers had to leave their luggage as a pledge, but luckily they found a hospitable reception in a lonely forester’s lodge last night. They were glad to finally reach Dresden. Once again, it was an adolescent adventure, albeit rich in discomfort, yet entertaining and memorable in the memory.

When Tieck stayed in Dresden in the following months, there was a cheerful experience, which probably followed the travel memories. He made the acquaintance of the celebrated nature poet Hiller.

It was a peculiar coincidence that this man, as it were, was confronted with him. If anyone, Tieck was a poet of nature and nature. He had practiced poetry before he knew its meaning, it was his life itself. Now there was a man whom many aesthetics of Fach declared to be a real poet, as he had come directly from nature. They marveled at him like a miracle because, without having gone through the school curriculum of education, he had come to associate some rhymes with each other in order to utter ordinary reflections that could have been better expressed in simple prose. The glorification of such a natural talent would have provided excellent material for a chapter in the Literature of the Shield Citizen.

Hiller had been a cartman, a straw-weaver, and a brick-maker in turn, when he fell into the hands of educational philanthropists who thought he was a genius because he read Wieland’s writings and was inspired to rhyme. His patrons gave him an ambiguous service when they tore him out of his tight life and brought him to Berlin. In their eagerness, they did not rest until he was introduced to the court. As a result, his reputation was spread in wider circles; only an excellent man could be so honored.

Science, too, the newly emerging theory of phrenology, whose oracles began to be admired, took on genius. Gall had made his demonstrations on this poet, and his doctrine was confirmed by nature itself. He found the poet’s body trained on him. Hiller, it was said, had been seated in front of Gall’s lectern, and the latter should have addressed the audience: “You will find nothing remarkable about this man; it might even seem like he’s a stupid person. Nevertheless, on the contrary, he is a great poet! ”

Tieck first saw the admired poet of nature at the theater in Dresden, where he became the object of curiosity. There was a bad piece of knight, Kunz von Kaufungen, whose author was a certain Naumann. It made a significant impression on the natural son. He declared it to be an excellent work, and thought that the author must be a genius; he had not believed that a famous conductor could at the same time be a great poet.

A few days later he came to Tieck to greet the craft. He collected subscribers for his poems, which were to be issued as proof of his talent. With naïve confidence he treated Tieck as his peer. When the latter noticed how annoying the collecting of subscribers was, a sign of the dependence of the author on the public, which finally forgot him, the nature poet slyly replied to his consolation: “Neh! Listen, we two Beede are gone over there! ”

The summer trip in 1803 had been a spiritual refreshment, the Tieck in his gloom needed very much. He did not suffer alone; For some time now he also saw his sister suffering. Her marriage to Bernhardi was not a happy one; they wanted a separation on both sides. Tieck too fell apart with his old friend. His sister’s health was deeply shaken; she had to tear herself out of the situation she was in. A southern climate should visit them, preferably to go to Italy for their production. She desperately wanted her brother to accompany her, as she needed strengthening.

At first Tieck decided to travel to Munich with his sister, where the desired country of the south was so much nearer. Her condition worsened since the autumn of 1804. Her life was in danger, another journey impossible; One had to try to make oneself as good as possible.

Some acquaintance was made, however, with Radlof, the quaint linguist, with Sailer, the pious bishop, and finally with Franz Baader, who was the strangest of Tieck’s theosophical wisdom.

When he first sought to visit the philosopher, chance led him astray; Instead of Baader, he came to Babo, who was then the better known author of the “Otto von Wittelsbach”. In the past the man would have been more attractive to him than now. He found the writer sitting in the middle of the apparatuses for his chivalrous dramas. Weapons of the Middle Ages hung on the walls of the room. After an indifferent conversation, he left him to seek the right Baader.

Seldom has anyone possessed a greater talent for the present speech than Baader, and never did it shine more brilliantly than when it concerned objects of profound science, religion, philosophy. Then his words flowed unstoppably, he silenced every objection, the force of his persuasion tore away with him. The next topic, which was important to both of them, was Jakob Böhme. In a three-hour monologue, Baader poured out; the conversation stopped. All relatives of other mystics, whatever else he had read about them, were present to him. He showed a profound erudition in this literature, and abundance of thought, mystical profundity. But even for Tieck’s views of the mystery, the oracular darkness, it was too much. He could not follow him into the winding corridors of his speculation. Later, weaknesses, contradictions and peculiarities were also revealed. He was an excitable, elusive character, often subject to inexplicable influences. Philosophical profundity and superstition, hatred and love combined and intersected.

Greater personal importance was the friendship with Rumohr. In the spring of 1805 he came to Munich. Enthusiastic, rapidly changing in feelings and opinions, he wavered, less undecided than too much excited, always in opposite directions. But his talent had already decided to study art and its history. He knew Tieck’s seals, and when he learned of his presence in Munich, he hurried to see him. They met in the enthusiasm for German art. At parting, Rumohr presented him as first sign of the new friendship a picture of Albrecht Dürer in old wood print.

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