The next day, starting from Coblentz while the morning air was still
pure and fresh, I bade adieu to the picturesque river behind me,
and travelling on a capital macadamized road which cuts across the
duchy of Nassau from Coblentz to Mainz, I immediately began to ascend
the mountains, which on all sides were beautifully covered with
wood. In about two hours, descending into a narrow valley, I passed
through Bad-Ems, a small village, which, composed of hovels for its
inhabitants, and, comparatively speaking, palaces for its guests, is
pleasantly enough situated on the bank of a stream of water (the Lahn),
imprisoned on every side by mountains which I should think very few of
its visiters would be disposed to scale; and, from the little I saw of
this place, I must own I felt but little disposition to remain in it.
Its outline, though much admired, gives a cramped, contracted picture
of the resources and amusements of the place, and as I drove through it
(my postilion, with huge orange-coloured worsted tassels at his back,
proudly playing a discordant voluntary on his horn), I particularly
remarked some stiff, formal little walks, up and down which many
well-dressed strangers were slowly promenading; but the truth is, that
Ems is a regular, fashionable watering-place.
Many people, I fully admit, go there to drink the waters only because
they are salutary, but a very great many more visit it from far
different motives; and it is sad, as well as odd enough, that young
ladies who are in a consumption, and old ladies who have a number of
gaudy bonnets to display, find it equally desirable to come to Bad-Ems.
This mixture of sickness and finery--this confusion between the hectic
flush and red and white ribands--in short, this dance of death, is
not the particular sort of folly I am fond of; and, though I wish to
deprive no human being of his hobby-horse, yet I must repeat I was
glad enough to leave dukes and duchesses, princes and ambassadors
(whose carriages I saw standing in one single narrow street), to be
cooped up together in the hot, expensive little valley of Ems,--an
existence, to my humble taste, not altogether unlike that which
the foul witch, Sycorax, inflicted upon Ariel, when, "in her most
unmitigable rage," she left him hitched in a cloven pine.
On leaving Ems, the road passing through the old mouldering town of
Nassau, and under the beautiful ruins of the ducal Stamm-Schlosz in its
neighbourhood, by a very steep acclivity, continues to ascend until it
mounts at last into a sort of upper country, from various points of
which are to be seen extensive views of the exalted duchy of Nassau,
the features of which are on a very large scale.
No one, I think, can breathe this dry, fresh air for a single moment,
or gaze for an instant on the peculiar colour of the sky, without
both smelling and seeing that he is in a country very considerably
above the level of the sea; yet this upper story, when it be once
attained is by no means what can be termed a mountainous country.
On the contrary, the province is composed either of flat table-land
abruptly intersected by valleys, or rather of an undulation of hills
and dales on an immense scale. In the great tract thus displayed to
view, scarcely a habitation is to be seen, and for a considerable time
I could not help wondering what had become of the people who had sown
the crops (as far I could see they were in solitude waving around
me), and who of course were somewhere or other lurking in ambush for
the harvest: however, their humble abodes are almost all concealed in
steep ravines, or water-courses, which in every direction intersect
the whole of the region I have described. A bird's-eye view would of
course detect these little villages, but from any one point, as the eye
roams over the surface, they are not to be seen. The duchy, which is
completely unenclosed, for there is not even a fence to the orchards,
appears like a royal park on a gigantic scale, about one-half being
in corn-fields or uncultivated land, and the remainder in patches of
woods and forests, which in shape and position resemble artificial
plantations. The province, as far as one can see, thus seems to declare
that it has but one lord and master, and the various views it presents
are really very grand and imposing. A considerable portion of the
wood grows among crags and rocks; and among the open land there is a
great deal of what is evidently a mining country, with much indicating
the existence of both iron and silver. The crops of wheat, oats, and
barley, are rather light, yet they are very much better than one would
expect from the ground from which they grow; but this is the effect of
the extraordinary heavy dews which, during the whole summer, may be
said, once in twenty-four hours, to irrigate the land.
The small steep ravines I have mentioned are the most romantic little
spots that can well be conceived. The rugged sides of the hills which
contain them are generally clothed with oak, or beech trees, feathering
to the very bottom, where a strip of green, rich, grassy land full of
springs, scarcely broader than, and very much resembling, the moat
of an old castle, is all that divides the one wooded eminence from
the other; and it is into these secluded gardens, these smiling happy
valleys, that the inhabitants of Nassau have humbly crept for shelter.
These valleys are often scarcely broad enough to contain the single
street which forms the village, and from such little abodes, looking
upwards, one would fancy that one were living in a mountainous country;
but, climb the hill--break the little petty barrier that imprisons
you, and from the height, gently undulating before you, is the vast,
magnificent country I have described. In short, in the two prospects,
one reads the old story--one sees the common picture of human life.
Beneath lies the little contracted nook in which we were born, studded
with trifling objects, each of which we once fancied to be highly
important; every little rock has its name, and every inch of ground
belongs to one man, and therefore does not belong to another; but,
lying prostrate before us, is a great picture of the world, and until
he has seen it, no one born and bred below could fancy how vast are its
dimensions, or how truly insignificant are the billows of that puddle
in a storm from which he has somehow or other managed to escape. But,
without metaphor, nothing can be more striking than the contrast which
exists between the little valleys of this duchy, and the great country
which soars above them!
With respect to the climate of Nassau, without presuming to dictate
upon that subject, I will, while my postilion is jolting me along,
request the reader to decipher for himself hieroglyphics which I think
sufficiently explain it. In short, I beg leave to offer him the milk of
information--warm as I suck it from the cow.
At this moment, everything, see! is smiling; the trees are in
full leaf; the crops in full bearing. In no part of Devonshire or
Herefordshire have I ever seen such rich crops of apples, the trees
being here surrounded with a scaffolding of poles, which after all
seem scarcely sufficient to save the boughs from breaking under their
load; but I ask--How comes the vine to be absent from this gay scene?
the low country and even the lower part of Nassau, we all know, teems
with vineyards, and for some way have they crawled up the sides of the
mountain; the reason, therefore, for their not appearing in the high
ground is surely one very legible character of the climate.
Again, at all the bendings of the valleys, why do the trees appear so
stunted in their growth, and why are so many of them stag-headed? They
must surely have some sad reason for wearing this appearance, and any
one may guess what it is that in the winter rushes by them with such
violence, that, instinctively, they seem more anxious to grow beneath
the soil than above it. Again, under that hot, oppressive sun which is
now hurrying every crop to maturity, why do not the inhabitants look
like Neapolitans and other indolent Lazzaroni-living people?--how comes
it that their features are so hard?--Can the _sun_ have beaten them
into that shape?
Why are the houses they live in huddled together in the valleys,
instead of enjoying the magnificent prospect before me? Why do the
wealthiest habitations look to the south, and why are the roofs of the
houses built or pitched so perpendicularly that it seems as if nothing
could rest upon their surface? Why are the windows so small and the
walls so thick? I might torment my reader with many other questions,
such as why, in this large country, is there scarcely a bird to be
seen? but I dare say he has already determined for himself, whether the
lofty province of Nassau, during the winter, be hot or cold; in short,
what must be its climate at the moment when the Rhine and the expanse
of low country, lying about 1200 feet beneath it, is frozen and covered
with snow?
Yet whatever may be the climate of the upper country of Nassau, the
duchy, taken altogether, may fairly be said to contribute more than an
average share towards the luxuries and comforts of mankind. Besides
fine timber-trees of oak, beech, birch, and fir, there are crops of
corn of every sort, as well as potatoes which would not be despised
in England; several of the wines (for instance, those on the estates
of Hochheim, Eberbach, Rudesheim, and Johannisburg) are the finest on
the Rhine, while there are fruits, such as apples, pears, cherries,
apricots, strawberries, raspberries (the two latter growing wild), &c.,
&c. in the greatest abundance.
Not only are there mines of the precious metals and of iron, but there
is also coal, which we all know will, when the gigantic powers of steam
are developed, become the nucleus of every nation's wealth. In addition
to all this, the duchy is celebrated over the whole of Germany for its
mineral waters; and certainly if they be at all equal to the reputation
they have acquired, Nassau may be said to contribute to mankind what is
infinitely better than all wealth, namely--health.
From its hills burst mineral streams of various descriptions,
and besides the Selters or Seltzer water, which is drunk as a
luxury in every quarter of the globe, there are bright, sparkling
remedies prescribed for almost every disorder under the sun;--for
instance, should the reader be consumptive, or, what is much more
probable, be dyspeptic, let him hurry to Ems; if he wishes to instil
iron into his jaded system, and brace up his muscles, let him go
to Langen-Schwalbach; if his brain should require calming, his
nerves soothing, and his skin softening, let him glide onwards to
Schlangenbad--the serpent's bath; but if he should be rheumatic in
his limbs, or if mercury should be running riot in his system, let
him hasten, "body and bones," to Wiesbaden, where, they say, by being
parboiled in the Kochbrunnen (boiling spring), all his troubles will
evaporate.
To these different waters of Nassau flock annually thousands and
thousands of people from all parts of Germany; and so celebrated are
they for the cures which they have effected, that not only do people
also come from Russia, Poland, Denmark, &c., but a vast quantity
of the waters, in stone bottles, is annually sent to these remote
countries. Yet it is odd enough, that the number of English, who have
visited the mineral springs of Nassau, bears no proportion to that of
any other nation of Europe, although Spa, and some other continental
watering-places, have been much deserted by foreigners, on account of
the quantity of the British who have thronged there; but, somehow or
other, our country people are like locusts, for they not only fly in
myriads to distant countries, but, as they travel, they congregate in
clouds, and, therefore, either are they found absolutely eating up
a foreign country, or not one of them is to be seen there. How many
thousands and hundreds of thousands of English, with their mouths,
eyes, and purses wide open, have followed each other, in mournful
succession, up and down the Rhine; and yet, though Nassau has stood
absolutely in their path, I believe I may assert that not twenty
families have taken up their abode at Langen-Schwalbach or Schlangenbad
in the course of the last twenty years; and yet there is no country on
earth that could turn out annually more consumptive, rheumatic, and
dyspeptic patients than old England! In process of time, the little
duchy will, no doubt, be as well known as Cheltenham, Malvern, &c.;
however, until fashion, that painted direction-post, points her finger
towards it, it will continue (so far as we are concerned) to exist, as
it really does, _in nubibus_.
There are 56,712 human habitations in the duchy of Nassau, and 355,815
human beings to live in them. Of these, 188,244 are Protestants,
161,535 are Catholics; there are 191 Mennonitens or dissenters; and
scattered among these bleak hills, just as their race is mysteriously
scattered over the face of the globe, there are 5845 Jews. The Duke
of Nassau is the cacique, king, emperor, or commander-in-chief of the
province; and people here are everlastingly talking of THE Duke, as
in England they talk of _the_ sun, _the_ moon, or any other luminary
of which there exists only one in our system. He is certainly the
sovereign lord of this lofty country; and travelling along, I have just
observed a certain little bough sticking out of every tenth sheaf of
corn, the meaning of which is, no doubt, perfectly well understood both
by him and the peasant: in short, in all the principal villages, there
are barns built on purpose for receiving this tribute, with a man, paid
by the Duke, for collecting it.
In approaching Langen-Schwalbach, being of course anxious, as early as
possible, to get a glimpse of a town which I had already determined to
inhabit for a few days, I did all in my power to explain this feeling
to the dull, gaudy fellow who drove me; but whenever I inquired for
Langen-Schwalbach, so often did the mute creature point with a long
German whip to the open country, as if it existed directly before
him; but, no, not a human habitation could I discover! However, as I
proceeded onwards, the whip, in reply to my repeated interrogatories
to its dumb owner, began to show a short of magnetical dip, until, at
last, it pointed almost perpendicularly downwards into a ravine, which
was now immediately beneath me; yet though I could see, as I thought,
almost to the bottom of it, still not a vestige of a town was to be
seen. However, the whip was quite right, for, in a very few seconds,
peeping up from the very bottom of the valley, I perceived, like poplar
trees, a couple of church steeples; then suddenly came in sight a long
narrow village of slated roofs, and, in a very few seconds more, I
found my carriage rattling and trumpetting along a street, until it
stopped at the Goldene Kette, or, as we should call it, the Golden
Chain. The master of this hotel appeared to be a most civil, obliging
person; and though his house was nearly full, yet he suddenly felt so
much respect either for me or for the contents of my wallet, which,
in descending from the carriage, I had placed, for a moment, in his
hands, that he used many arguments to persuade us both to become noble
appendages to his fine Golden Chain: yet there were certain noises,
uncertain smells, and a degree of bustle in his house which did not
at all suit me; and, therefore, at once mercifully annihilating his
hopes by a grave bow which could not be misinterpreted, I slowly
walked into the street to select for myself a private lodging, and,
for a considerable time, experienced very great difficulty. With hands
clasped behind me, in vain did I slowly stroll about, looking out
for any thing at all like a paper or a board in a window; and I was
beginning to fear that there were no lodging-houses in the town, when I
at last found out that there were very few which were not. I therefore
selected a clean, quiet-looking dwelling; and, finding the inside equal
to the out, I at once engaged apartments.
The next morning (having been refreshed by a good night's rest) I put
a small note-book into my pocket, and having learnt that in the whole
valley there was no English blood, except the little that was within my
own black silk waistcoat, I felt that I might go where I liked, do what
I liked, and sketch the outline of whatever either pleased my eye, or
amused my fancy. My first duty, however, evidently was to understand
the geography of the town, or rather village, of Langen-Schwalbach,
which I found to be in the shape of the letter Y, or (throwing, as I
wish to do, literature aside) of a long-handled two-pronged fork. The
village is 1500 paces in length, that is to say, the prongs are each
about 500 yards, and the lower street, or handle of the fork, is about
1000 yards.
On the first glimpse of the buildings from the heights, my eyes had
been particularly attracted by high, irregular, slated roofs, many
of which were fantastically ornamented with little spires, about two
feet high, but it now appeared that the buildings themselves were
constructed even more irregularly than their roofs. The village is
composed of houses of all sizes, shapes, and colours: some, having been
lately plastered, and painted yellow, white, or pale green, have a
modern appearance, while others wear a dress about as old as the hills
which surround them. Of these latter, some are standing with their
sides towards the streets, others look at you with their gables; some
overhang the passenger as if they intended to crush him; some shrink
backwards, as if, like misanthropes, they loathed him, or like maidens,
they feared him; some lean sideways, as if they were suffering from a
painful disorder in their hips; many, apparently from curiosity, have
advanced, while a few, in disgust, have retired a step or two.
All the best dwellings in the towns are "hofs," or lodging-houses,
having jalousies, or Venetian blinds, to the windows; and I must own I
did not expect to find in so remote a situation houses of such large
dimensions. For instance, the Allee Saal has nineteen windows in front;
the great "Indien Hof" is three stories high, with sixteen windows in
each; the Pariser Hof has twelve, and several others have eight and ten.
Of late years a number of the largest houses have been plastered on the
outside, but the appearance of the rest is highly picturesque. They are
built of wood and unburnt bricks, but the immense quantity of timber
which has been consumed would clearly indicate the vicinity of a large
forest, even if one could not see its dark foliage towering on every
side above the town. Wood having been of so little value, it has been
crammed into the houses, as if the builder's object had been to hide
away as much of it as possible. The whole fabric is a network of timber
of all lengths, shapes, and sizes; and these limbs, sometimes rudely
sculptured, often bent into every possible contortion, form a confused
picture of rustic architecture, which amid such wild mountain scenery
one cannot refuse to admire. The interstices between all this woodwork
are filled up with brown, unburnt bricks, so soft and porous, that in
our moist climate they would in one winter be decomposed, while a very
few seasons would also rot the timbers which they connect: however,
such is evidently the dryness of mountain air, that buildings can exist
here in this rude state, and, indeed, have existed, for several hundred
years, with the woodwork unpainted.
In rambling about the three streets, one is surprised, at first, at
observing that apparently there is scarcely a shop in the town! Before
three or four windows carcasses of sheep, or of young calves but a few
days old, are seen hanging by their heels; and loaves of bread are
placed for sale before a very few doors: but, generally speaking, the
dwellings are either "hofs" for lodgers, or they appear to be a set of
nondescript private-houses; nevertheless, by patiently probing, the
little shop is at last discovered. In one of these secluded dens one
can buy coffee, sugar, butter, nails, cottons, chocolate, ribands,
brandy, &c. Still, however, there is no external display of any such
articles, for the crowd of rich people who, like the swallows, visit
during the summer weeks the sparkling water of Langen-Schwalbach,
live at "hofs," whose proprietors well enough know where to search
for what they want. During so short a residence there, fashionable
visiters require no new clothes, nails, brimstone, or coarse linen. It
is, therefore, useless for the little shopkeeper to attempt to gain
their custom; and as, during the rest of the year, the village exists
in simplicity, quietness, and obscurity, the inhabitants, knowing
each other, require neither signs nor inscriptions. Peasants come to
Langen-Schwalbach from other villages, inquire for the sort of shop
which will suit them; or if they want (as they generally do) tobacco,
oil, or some rancid commodity, their noses are quite intelligent enough
to lead them to the doors they ought to enter; indeed, I myself very
soon found that it was quite possible thus to hunt for my own game.
I have already stated that Langen-Schwalbach is like a kitchen fork,
the handle of which is the lower or old part of the town: the prongs
representing two streets built in ravines, down each of which a small
stream of water descends. The Stahl brunnen (steel spring) is at the
head of the town, at the upper extremity of the right prong. Close
to the point of the other prong is the Wein brunnen (wine spring),
and about 600 yards up the same valley is situated the fashionable
brunnen of Pauline. Between these three points, brunnens, or wells, the
visiters at Langen-Schwalbach, with proper intervals for rest and food,
are everlastingly vibrating. Backwards and forwards, "down the middle
and up again," the strangers are seen walking, or rather crawling, with
a constancy that is really quite astonishing. Among the number there
may be here and there a Coelebs in search of a wife, and a very few
_sets_ of much smaller feet may, _impari passu_, be occasionally seen
pursuing nothing but their mammas; however, generally speaking, the
whole troop is chasing one and the same game; they are all searching
for the same treasure--in short, they are seeking for health: but it
is now necessary that the reader should be informed by what means they
hope to attain it.
In the time of the Romans, Schwalbach, which means literally the
swallow's stream, was a forest containing an immense sulphureous
fountain famed for its medicinal effects. In proportion as it rose
into notice, hovels, huts, and houses were erected; until a small
street or village was thus gradually established on the north and
south of the well. There was little to offer to the stranger but its
waters; yet, health being a commodity which people have always been
willing enough to purchase, the medicine was abundantly drunk, and
in the same proportion the little hamlet continued to grow, until it
justly attained and claimed for itself the appellation of Langen (long)
Schwalbach.
About sixty years ago the Stahl and Wein brunnens were discovered.
These springs were found to be quite different from the old one,
inasmuch as, instead of being only sulphureous, they were but strongly
impregnated with iron and carbonic acid gas. Instead, therefore, of
merely purifying the blood, they boldly undertook to strengthen the
human frame; and, in proportion as they attracted notice, so the old
original brunnen became neglected. About three years ago a new spring
was discovered in the valley above the Wein brunnen; this did not
contain quite so much iron as the Stahl or Wein brunnen; but possessing
other ingredients (among them that of novelty) which were declared to
be more salutary, it was patronised by Dr. Fenner, as being preferable
to the brimstone as well as other brunnens in the country. It was
accordingly called Pauline, after the present Duchess of Nassau, and is
now the fashionable brunnen or well of Langen-Schwalbach.
The village doctors, however, disagree on the subject; and Dr.
Stritter, a very mild, sensible man, recommends his patients to the
strong Stahl brunnen, almost as positively as Dr. Fenner sentences his
victims to the Pauline. Which is right, and which is wrong, is one of
the mysteries of this world; but as the cunning Jews all go to the
Stahl brunnen, I strongly suspect that they have some good reason for
this departure from the fashion.
As I observed people of all shapes, ages, and constitutions, swallowing
the waters of Langen-Schwalbach, I felt that, being absolutely on
the brink of the brunnen, I might, at least as an experiment, join
this awkward squad--that it would be quite time enough to desert if
I should find reason to do so--in short, that by trying the waters I
should have a surer proof whether they agreed with me or not, than
by listening to the conflicting opinions of all the doctors in the
universe. However, not knowing exactly in what quantities to take
them,--having learnt that Dr. Fenner himself had the greatest number
of patients, and that moreover being a one-eyed man he was much the
easiest to be found, I walked towards the shady walk near the Allee
Saal, resolving eventually to consult him; however, in turning a
sharp corner, happening almost to run against a gentleman in black,
"cui lumen ademptum," I gravely accosted him, and finding, as I did
in one moment, that I was right, in the middle of the street I began
to explain that he saw before him a wheel which wanted a new tire--a
shoe which required a new sole--a worn-out vessel seeking the hand of
the tinker; in short, that feeling very old, I merely wanted to become
young again.
Dr. Fenner is what would be called in England "a regular character,"
and being a shrewd, clever fellow, he evidently finds it answer, and
endeavours to maintain a singularity of manner, which with his one
eye (the other being extinguished in a college duel) serves to bring
him into general notice. As soon as my gloomy tale was concluded, the
Doctor, who had been walking at my side, stopped dead short, and when
I turned round to look for him, there I saw him, with his right arm
extended, its fore-finger and thumb clenched, as if holding snuff,
and its other three digits horizontally extended like the hand of a
direction-post. With his heels close together, he stood as lean and
as erect as a ramrod, the black patch which like a hatchment hung
over the window of his departed eye being supported by a riband wound
diagonally round his head. "Monsieur!" said he (for he speaks a little
French), "Monsieur!" he repeated, "à six heures du matin vous prendrez
à la Pauline trois verres! trois verres à la Pauline!" he repeated."A
dix heures vous prendrez un bain--en sortant du bain vous prendrez ..
(he paused, and after several seconds of deep thought, he added) ..
encore deux verres, et à cinq heures du soir, Monsieur, vous prendrez
.. (another long pause) .. encore trois verres! Monsieur! ces eaux vous
feront beaucoup de bien!!"
The arm of this sybil now fell to his side, like the limb of a
telegraph which had just concluded its intelligence. The Doctor made me
a low bow, spun round upon his heel, "and so he vanished."
I had not exactly bargained for bathing in, as well as drinking, the
waters; however, feeling in great good-humour with the little world I
was inhabiting, I was willing to go with (i. e. _into_) its stream;
and as I found that almost every visiter was daily soaked for an hour
or two, I could not but admit that what was prescribed for such geese,
might also be good sauce for the gander; and that at all events a bath
would at least have the advantage of drowning for me one hour per day,
in case I should find four-and-twenty of such visiters more than I
wanted.
In a very few days I got quite accustomed to what a sailor would call
the "fresh-water life" which had been prescribed for me; and as no
clock in the universe could be more regular than my behaviour, an
account of one day's performances, multiplied by the number I remained,
will give the reader, very nearly, the history or picture of an
existence at Langen-Schwalbach.