Here rode Maximilian—­and there halted Charles his son.  Different suits of armor, belonging to the same character, are studiously shown you by the guide; some of these are the foot-, and some the horse-, armor; some were worn in fight—­yet giving evidence of the mark of the bullet and battle-ax; others were the holiday suits of armor, with which the knights marched in procession, or tilted at the tournament.  The workmanship of the full-dress suits, in which a great deal of highly wrought gold ornament appears, is sometimes really exquisite.

The second, or long room, is more particularly appropriated to the foot-or infantry-armor.  In this studied display of much that is interesting from antiquity, and splendid from absolute beauty and costliness, I was particularly gratified by the sight of the armor which the Emperor Maximilian wore as a foot-captain.  The lower part, to defend the thighs, consists of a puckered or plated steel petticoat, sticking out at the bottom of the folds, considerably beyond the upper part.  It is very simple, and of polished steel.  A fine suit of armor—­of black and gold—­worn by an Archbishop of Salzburg in the middle of the fifteenth century, had particular claims upon my admiration.  It was at once chaste and effective.  The mace was by the side of it.

This room is also ornamented by trophies taken from the Turks; such as bows, spears, battle-axes, and scimitars.  In short, the whole is full of interest and splendor.  I ought to have seen the arsenal—­which I learn is of uncommon magnificence; and, altho not so curious on the score of antiquity, is yet not destitute of relics of the warriors of Germany.  Among these, those which belong to my old bibliomaniacal friend Corvinus, King of Hungary, cut a conspicuous and very respectable figure.  I fear it will be now impracticable to see the arsenal as it ought to be seen.

It is now approaching mid-day, and we are walking toward the terrace in front of the Great Belvidere Palace, built by the immortal Eugene[B] in the year 1724, as a summer residence.  Probably no spot could have been selected with better judgment for the residence of a Prince—­who wished to enjoy, almost at the same moment, the charms of the country with the magnificence of a city view, unclouded by the dense fumes which forever envelop our metropolis.  It is in truth a glorious situation.  Walking along its wide and well-cultivated terraces, you obtain the finest view imaginable of the city of Vienna.

Indeed it may be called a picturesque view.  The spire of the cathedral darts directly upward, as it were, to the very heavens.  The ground before you, and in the distance, is gently undulating; and the intermediate portion of the suburbs does not present any very offensive protrusions.  More in the distance, the windings of the Danube are seen; with its various little islands, studded with hamlets and fishing-huts, lighted up by a sun of unusual radiance.  Indeed the sky, above the whole of this rich and civilized scene, was at the time of our viewing it, almost of a dazzling hue; so deep and vivid a tint we had never before beheld.  Behind the palace, in the distance, you observe a chain of mountains which extends into Hungary.  As to the building itself, it is perfectly palatial in its size, form, ornaments, and general effect.