Morning on the Milleschauer -- The Brightening Landscape --
The Mossy Quarters by Daylight -- Delightful Down-hill Walk
-- Lobositz again -- The Steam-boat -- Queer Passengers --
Sprightly Music -- Romantic Scenery -- Hills and Cliffs --
Schreckenstein -- How the Musicians paid their Fare --
Aussig -- The Spürlingstein -- Fairer Landscapes -- Elbe
versus Rhine -- Tetschen -- German Faces -- Women-Waders --
The Schoolmaster -- Passport again -- Pretty Country --
Signs of Industry -- Peasants' Diet -- Markersdorf --
Rustic Cottages -- Gersdorf -- Meistersdorf -- School --
Trying the Scholars -- Good Results -- A Byeway --
Ulrichsthal.
Sunrise! a bell rings loudly to waken the sleepers; and the host cries
"_Frisch auf!_" at the door of the hut. I was up as the first rays
from the great luminary streamed across the landscape. Not a cloud
dimmed the sky, and it was a grand sight to see the ruddy light kindle
on all the lower hill-tops, tremble on the tall clumps of forest, and
creep down the slopes, till field after field caught the beams, and
ponds glistened and windows twinkled. And anon the thin veil of mist
was lifted from the valleys, and farms and villages rejoiced in the
new-born day. Every moment the great panorama revealed more and more
of its features, and bits of cliff, and glenlike hollows, ruined
towers, and miles of road emerged from the obscure.
And while the light strengthened, there stretched towards the west the
mighty shadow of the mountain itself, eclipsing acres of the
landscape, which lay dim between the streaming radiance rushing to an
apex on either side. But the sun mounts apace, and the shadow grows
shorter continually.
The number of cone-like hills is remarkable, and here and there you
see one of those circular, flat-topped elevations bristling with dark
woods, which characterize much of Bohemian scenery along the Saxon
frontier. While gazing on the singular forms, you may imagine them to
be the crumbling remains of stupendous columns erected by giant hands
in the old primeval ages.
In the distance you see the Elbe, a long, pale stripe, resembling a
narrow lake, and you wish there were more of it, for the want of water
is a sensible defect in the view. The region is fruitful and well
peopled: had it a few large lakes besides, your eye would roam over it
with the greater pleasure. The expanse is wide. In very clear weather,
so mine host assured me, you can see Prague, and _Schneekoppe_ in the
_Riesengebirge_, each fifty miles distant.
To enable you to get the view all round clear of the trees a circular
wooden tower is built, from the platform of which you may gaze on far
and near. Immediately beneath you look down into the walled enclosure,
upon the huts, the flower-beds, the potato plot, the sheltering hazel
copse, and all the ins and outs of the place. You see mossy arbours
open to the south, and little nooks where you may recline at ease and
contemplate different points of the view.
I was glad after awhile to take refuge in one of these nooks, for the
wind blew so strong and keen that my teeth chattered as I walked round
the platform. However, there is steaming coffee ready to fortify you
against the influences which mar the poetry of sunrise.
The garden, sheltered by its wall and screen of hazel, teems with
flowers, a pleasing sight as you go and come in your explorations. I
surveyed the whole premises from the dairy to the dancing-floor; noted
the inscriptions here and there with which the owner seeks to
conciliate your good opinion; looked at his bazaar, where you may buy
_Recollections of the Milleschauer_, and so round to the little altar
under the bell. Here the inscription runs:
Frisch auf!
Zur Arbeit dran,
Gott segne meine Plan:
denn
An Gottes Segen
Ist Alles gelegen.
Two hours passed. I took a farewell view under the broad sunlight, and
then, having to meet a steamer at Lobositz, strode merrily down the
hill. What a pleasant walk that was! Once below the summit, among the
trees, and the temperature was that of a summer morning; and the woods
looked glorious, fringed with light reflected from millions of
raindrops--memorials of the former evening's storm, now become things
of beauty. Beech, birch, and hazel, intermingled with larch and fir,
robe the hill from base to cope, through which the path descends with
continued windings; an ever-shifting aisle, as it seems, overarched by
green leaves, among which you hear the gladsome chirp and warbling of
birds. All the breaks and hollows which appeared so grim and gloomy
the night before, the mouths of yawning caverns, now open as narrow
glades or twinkling bowers, in which a thousand lights dart and quiver
as the cheerful breeze sweeps through, caressing the leaves. Such a
walk favours cheerful meditation, and prepares your heart for cloudy
weather and dreary prospects; and in after days many a thought born
within the wood flits back on the memory.
It was like having been robbed of something to step out of the woods
upon the rough grassy slopes at the foot of the hill, and presently to
tramp along a hard, beaten road. However, there was the sight of the
lofty cone rising in its forest vesture high into the sunlight for
repayment; and the lively breeze ceased not to blow.
The ill-favoured clerk at Prague had refused to accredit me beyond
Lobositz, so here at nine o'clock I had to go to the _Bezirksamt_ for
another visa. Again did I request that the name of some place at the
foot of the mountains, or beyond the frontier, might be inserted; but
no! I was going a trip down the Elbe, with intention to disembark at
Tetschen, so for Tetschen the visa was made out, and the clerk, who
was very polite, wished me a pleasant journey.
I found a number of passengers waiting at the river side, reclining on
the grass or strolling among the trees. Presently came a large flat
boat and conveyed us all to an island, where, by the time we had
assembled on the rude landing stage, the steamer _Germania_ arrived
and took us on board; not without difficulty, for the deck was
literally choked with queer-looking people and rubbishy baggage. What
could such a company be travelling for? Wedged in among them sat a
party of wandering musicians, men and women, with harps, guitars,
fiddles, and flute: the space all too narrow for their movements.
However, as soon as the vessel resumed her course down the rapid
stream they began to play, and kept up a succession of airs that
seemed to convert the exhilarating motion, the breeze and the sunshine
into frolicsome music.
I got a seat on the top of a heap of bundles, with clear outlook above
the heads of the crowd. It was a delightful voyage, between scenes
growing more and more romantic at every bend of the river. Now we
shoot past scarped hills, split by narrow gullies dark with foliage,
from whence little brooks leap forth to the light; now past sheltered
coombs where rural homesteads nestle, and vines hang on the sunny
slopes; now past variegated cliffs, all ochre and gray, that come near
together, and compel the stream to swerve with boiling eddies and long
trains of impatient ripples; now past fields and meadows where the
retiring hills leave room for fruitful husbandry, and from far your
eye catches the speck of colour--the red or blue petticoats of the
women around the hay-wagons.
And along the road which skirts the shore there go men and women,
horses and vehicles, and there is always something strange to note in
costume and appearance. And close by runs the railway, its course
marked by the painted wicker balloons hanging aloft on the signal
posts, and the bright colour of the jutting rocks through which the
way is hewn, or by a train dashing past with echoing snort and tail of
cloud.
The hills crowd closer and higher at every bend. Here and there rises
a cliff forming an imposing palisade of rock; then comes a wild mass
of crags backed by woods that screen a little red-roofed chapel
perched high aloft; then the tower of _Schreckenstein_ comes into
view, crowning a tall, gray buttress, which gives a finishing touch to
the picturesque.
My attention was diverted from the scenery by a leaf of music held out
by one of the musicians. Who could refuse a fee for such strains as
theirs? Kreutzer after kreutzer, a few small silver coins, and two or
three twopenny bank-notes were dropped into the receptacle, which was
presently emptied into the ready hands of the fluteplayer. He counted,
shook his head, and saying, "Not enough yet!" gave the signal for a
fresh burst. Now came forth music singularly wild and inspiriting--the
reserve, perhaps, for an emergency--and none within hearing could
resist its influence. Had there been room, every one would surely have
danced; as it was, eyes sparkled, heads wagged, and fingers snapped,
keeping time with the measure. There seemed something magical about
the leader, and I could not help fancying that her fiddle began to
speak before the bow had touched the strings. They speak wisely who
bid us go to Bohemia for music.
The leaf went round once more, and not in vain; but the fluteplayer
still shook his head, whereupon a song and a duet were sung; and then
the flute, brought to a conclusion with his cares, went to the little
crib by the paddle-box and bought tickets for the whole party.
Then Aussig came into sight, and I soon ceased to wonder whither the
queer-looking crowd were going. It was to Aussig fair. Bundle after
bundle was pulled so rapidly from the heap on which I reclined that I
was quickly brought down to the level of the deck, and a scramble and
hubbub arose easier to be imagined than described. The musicians made
haste to put the leathern covers on their instruments, and along with
her fiddle I saw that the leader buckled up a spare stay-bone and a
few miscellaneous articles of her toilet. The women carried the harps,
and the men huge knapsacks, stuffed with their wives' gear as well as
their own, and with a thick-soled boot staring out from either end.
Once at the landing, a few minutes sufficed to clear the deck, and no
sooner had the vagabonds departed than a boy came with a broom, and
all was presently made clean, as behoved in a vessel bound to Dresden.
Half an hour's stay gives you time to look at Aussig, to admire its
pleasing environment, its busy boat-builders, and gondola-like
pleasure-boats floating on the stream, and to commend the good quality
of its beer. Among the passengers who came on board were a party of
students, certain of them wearing gowns not larger than a
jacket--which, as some say, betoken learning in proportion.
Away we went again, and always with fairer landscapes to greet our
eyes. Past great high-prowed barges, towed slowly against the current
by horses; past small barges, towed still more slowly by a dozen or
twenty men. Past the _Spürlingstein_, and bastion-like cliffs, and
hollows, beyond which you catch sight of far-away peaks. Then a
village of timbered houses, the fronts showing broad lines of
chequer-work and quaint gables, and every house standing apart in its
own garden, among hills hung with woods to the water's edge; and rocks
peering out here and there from the shadow of the trees, shutting you
in all round as in a lake.
The sight of the varied features which open on you, increasing in
beauty at every bend, will suggest frequent comparison. Here among the
hills nature hems the Elbe in with loveliness, as if to prepare the
great river for its long, dreary course from Dresden to the sea. You
see not so many castles, but more variety than on the Rhine; more of
untamed scenery, and less of monotonous vine-slopes; and perhaps you
will incline to agree with those who hold that from Leitmeritz to
Pirna the Elbe excels the far-famed stream that flows past Cologne.
Beautiful is the view of Tetschen, backed by grand wooded hills; the
river, spanned by a chain-bridge, making a sudden bend; the castle
looking down on the stream from a forward cliff. Though topped by a
spire, the castle will inevitably remind you of a factory; and you
will be constrained to look away from it to the tunnelled cliff
through which the railway passes, and the noisy stream that tumbles in
on the opposite side.
It had just struck one when I landed. The passport office was shut for
two hours, that the functionaries might have time to dine--a
praiseworthy arrangement, though trying at times to a traveller's
patience. I dined at the _Golden Crown_, at one side of the great
square, and regaled myself with a flask of _Melniker_--a right
generous wine. The inn is the starting place for some twenty coaches
and vans, and, looking round on the numerous guests as they went and
came, it was easy to see you had left the Czechish for the German part
of the population--oval faces for round ones.
In the centre of the square stands a building, which, in appearance a
pedestal for a big statue, is a little chapel in which mass is said
twice a day. I spent a few minutes in looking at it, then strolled to
the castle garden and the bridge, from whence I saw carts backed axle
deep into the river to receive cotton bales from a barge, and women
loading a boat wading out above their knees with heavy sacks on their
shoulders. Then to the school--a sight that gave me real pleasure, so
spacious is the building, so numerous are the scholars, so earnest the
master in his work. His discourse was that of one who has found his
true vocation: he was seldom cast down, and felt persuaded that it was
a master's own fault if he had no joy in his scholars. After our few
brief words I thought the inscription at the door yet more
appropriate:
Der Schule Saat reift für Zeit und Ewigkeit.[B]
At three o'clock I sought out the passport clerk, and found him not a
whit more willing to give a visa for the mountains, or a place over
the border, than his fellows elsewhere. He admitted the argument that
one of the pleasures of travel was an unrestricted choice or change of
route, but "could not" do more; so I looked at my map, and chose
Reichenberg as my next point of departure, and the official stamp and
signature were forthwith applied. But the gentleman discovered an
irregularity, and did not let me depart till it was rectified--that
the leaves containing the visas and the passport were separate sheets.
He fastened them together with a broad seal and a loop of black and
yellow thread, and then wished me a pleasant journey.
The wish was realized, for the route lies through a pretty country,
the most populous and industrious part of Bohemia. It is heavy uphill
work soon after leaving Tetschen, but the view from the top over the
valley of the Elbe repays the labour, and rivals that from the
_Milleschauer_. A little farther, and the prospect opens in the
opposite direction, across a great wave, as it seems, of cones,
ridges, scars, and rounded heights, sprinkled with spires and
hamlets--a cheerful scene that invites you onwards.
At every mile you see and hear more and more of the signs of industry.
Men pass you wheeling barrows laden with coloured glass rods--material
for beads and fragile toys, to be manufactured at home in their own
little cottages, keeping up the olden practice. Now you hear the hiss
and whiz of the polishing wheel; now the rattle of looms, and the
croak of stocking-weavers. And at times comes a man pushing before him
a great barrowful of bread--large, flat, brown loaves--on his way to
supply the off hamlets which have no bakery. And now and then old
women creep by, bending under a burden of firewood. Two whom I
overtook told me they walked three miles twice a week to fetch a
bundle of sticks from the forest; and when I asked if they ate meat or
cheese, answered with a "_Gott bewahr!_ never. Nothing but bread and
potatoes."
At Markersdorf I left the highway for a cross-road, leading through a
succession of hamlets, so close together that you can hardly tell
where one begins and the other ends. Now the signs of labour multiply,
and there is a ceaseless noise of the shuttle and polishing wheel. The
little houses have a very rustic appearance, built of squared logs
black with age, set off by stripes of white clay along all the joints,
and a stripe of green paint around the windows. There is variety in
their architecture: some imitate the Swiss style, with tall roofs and
outside galleries; some exhibit dumpy gables and arched timbers along
the lower story; and pretty they look in the midst of their
poppy-strewn gardens and embowering orchards, watered by little
brooks, which here and there set little mills a-clacking.
Not a hamlet without its school; and you will see with pleasure how
the importance of the school is recognised. Over the door of one at
Gersdorf I read:
Den Kleinen will die Schule frommen
O laß sie alle, alle kommen.[C]
At Meistersdorf, a furlong or two farther, on a little hill that
overlooks miles of country, the school-house is one of the best
buildings in the place. And here again a rhyming couplet, embodying a
benevolent sentiment, crosses the lintel:
Kommt hier zu mir ihr Kleinen, O kommt mit frommen Sinn
Ich führ den Weg des Heiles euch zu dem Vater hin.[D]
And the children really are taught. Scarcely a day passed that I did
not stop boys and girls on the highway, and get them to talk about
their school and what they learned. Not one did I meet above the age
of eight who could not read and write, and do a little arithmetic, or
recite the multiplication table, as I fully ascertained by sitting
down on the bank and playing the schoolmaster--not a frowning
one--myself. They answered readily, and wrote words on a scrap of
paper, and seemed pleased to show off what they knew, and still more
pleased at finding a kreutzer in their hand when the questions ended.
In many of the schools the pupils may learn mathematics if they will,
and drawing is taught in all. To this early acquaintance with the
rules of art the Bohemian glass engravers are indebted for a resource
that enables them to make the most of their skill and ingenuity. The
school fees are from one penny to twopence a week.
A short distance beyond the school I left the village road for a rough
byeway across fields, and after a walk of five hours from Tetschen
came to a row of wooden cottages, or farmsteads, as they might be
called, each standing apart in its own ground, flanked by sheds, and
fortified by a dungheap close to the door. Were it not for overhanging
trees and garden plots they would wear a shabby look.
Ulrichsthal was my destination; but here was no valley, only a slope.
However, on inquiring at the last but one in the row of cottages, I
found that I was really in Ulrichsthal, and at the very door I wanted.
FOOTNOTES:
[B] The school's seed ripens for time and eternity.
[C] The school will profit the little ones,
O! let them all, all come.
[D] Come here to me ye little ones, oh, come with pious mind!
I lead you on the way of salvation to the Father.