C/o Fräulein Kretschmer, 8 Räcknitz Strasse, Dresden.—The weather is hot. His party have been to the opera with relatives of Emerson and have put on an ‘entertainment’. Tomorrow they are going to Saxon Switzerland. Describes their usual activities on Sundays and other days.
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Transcript
Fraülein† Kretschmer, 8 Räcknitz Str.
Dresden, Friday July 24/68
Dear Papa and Mama
The chief thing to be noticed is that it is awfully hot. Today, indeed, there is a slight improvement: one can sit in one’s bath to read without absolutely getting boiled. We never dream of wearing any clothes after tea, but even so it is too hot. By all accounts you seem to suffer in the same way in England. In the morning we wear Alpaca coats without waistcoats—if I can get a decently small front I shall leave off shirts also. The opera is of course quite insupportable. On Tuesday we went to Masaniello {1} with some Yankees who have been staying here. They are called Emerson, are relatives of the great philosopher, and come from Boston. After the opera, Kitty Emerson and I contrived to lose ourselves in the Grosse Garten, and did not come back till everybody had been out to look for us. Next morning, Mr Emerson wanted to speak to me privately after breakfast. Conceive my dismay, and the ill-concealed exultation of the rest! He only wanted to pay for the tickets, however. On Wednesday evening we had everybody up here to see a grand entertainment, conjuring, a German charade, and electro-biology, concluded with God save the Queen on two combs and an opera-hat. Yesterday the Emersons went away. There are plenty of nice people left, though; a Mr & Mrs Watts, and the Skrines, an English family living in the town to whom we have been introduced; besides the people belonging to the house, fr. Anna von Zschüschen and Clärchen von something else. Our own party consists of the two Pollocks, {2} Pryor, Forrest, and I. Pryor keeps going into the country to see some naturalistic friends of his: comes back suddenly with two edible frogs five lizards and a green snake. Forrest is the son of that Indian officer Colonel Forrest who fastened the bags of powder to the gate of Delhi and was shot down but not killed. {3} The only thing against him is that he writes for the Daily Telegraph. Tomorrow we make an excursion to the Saxon Switzerland, so called because it is the least mountanous† part of Bohemia. The Emersons went there about a week ago, and brought back glowing accounts. Fraülein† Kretschmer’s part of the house consists of two flats; we are located on the upper one. We go to the Hof-Kirche (Court-Church; where the King goes when he is at home) to hear high mass on Sunday morning, then stroll through the Picture-gallery till dinner-time, which is 2 on Sundays: sleep till six: keep an open-air concert till tea-time, and after that go to look at the dancing at one of the saloons. No one has yet ventured to join in, though we have been getting dancing lessons, which are great fun. The Vienna waltz is a deux-temps at just double the ordinary pace! It would send everybody spinning if one tried it in England. On other days we read in the morning, German or Gymnastics in the afternoon, dance, concert, or theatre in the evening. So glad all the little ones are well. With very best love to them believe me to remain
Your most affectionate son
W. K. Clifford.
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{1} La Muette de Portici, ou Masaniello (1828), an opera by Daniel Auber.
{2} Fred and Walter.
{3} Captain (sic) George Forrest (1803/4-59), of the Bengal artillery, was one of three surviving officers awarded the Victoria Cross for the defence of the Delhi magazine on 11 May 1857. He died of his injuries two years later.
† Sic.
