Since the peace of Presburgh all our attention and all our care have

been employed to fulfil with scrupulous fidelity all the engagements

contracted by that treaty, to preserve to our subjects the happiness

of peace, to consolidate every where the amicable relations happily

re-established, waiting to discover whether the changes caused by the

peace would permit us to perform our important duties, as chief of the

Germanic empire, conformably to the capitulation of election.

The consequences, however, which ensued from some articles of the

treaty of Presburgh, immediately after its publication, which still

exist, and those events generally known, which have since taken place

in the Germanic empire, have convinced us that it will be impossible,

under these circumstances, to continue the obligations contracted by

the capitulation of election; and even if in reflecting on these

political relations it were possible to imagine a change of affairs,

the convention of the twelfth of July, signed at Paris, and ratified

by the contracting parties, relative to an entire separation of

several considerable states of the empire, and their peculiar

confederation, has entirely destroyed every such hope.

Being thus convinced of the impossibility of being any longer enabled

to fulfil the duties of our imperial functions, we owe it to our

principles and our duty, to renounce a crown which was only valuable

in our eyes whilst we were able to enjoy the confidence of the

electors, princes, and other states of our Germanic empire, and to

perform the duties which were imposed upon us. We declare, therefore,

by these presents, that we, considering as dissolved the ties which

have hitherto attached us to the states of the Germanic empire; that

we, considering as extinguished by the confederation of the states of

the Rhine, the charge in chief of the empire; and that we, considering

ourselves thus acquitted of all our duties towards the Germanic

empire, do resign the imperial crown and the imperial government. We

absolve, at the same time, the electors, princes, and states, and all

that belong to the empire, particularly the members of the supreme

tribunal, and other magistrates of the empire, from those duties by

which they were united to us as the legal chief of the empire,

according to the constitution.

We also absolve all our German provinces and states of the empire from

their reciprocal duties toward the German empire; and we desire, in

incorporating them with our Austrian states as Emperor of Austria, and

in preserving them in those amicable relations subsisting with the

neighbouring powers and states, that they should attain that height of

prosperity and happiness which is the end of all our desires, and the

object of our dearest wishes.

Done at our residence, under our imperial seal,

Vienna, the 6th of August, 1806. FRANCIS.

We, Francis Second, &c. In abdicating the imperial government of the

empire, we, considering it as the last effort of our care, and as an

absolute duty, do express thus publicly a desire equally reasonably

and just, that the persons who have hitherto been employed in the

administration of justice, and in diplomatic and other affairs, for

the good of the whole empire, and for the service of the chief of the

empire, should be suitably provided for:

The care which all the states of the empire took of those persons who

lost their places by the affair of the indemnity in 1803, induces us

to hope that the same sentiments of justice will be extended to those

individuals who have hitherto been employed in the general service,

who have been chosen in all parts of the Germanic empire, and many of

whom have quitted other profitable places, looking forward to an

honourable subsistence for life, and which should not be wanting to

them on account of their fidelity, and the integrity and capacity with

which they have executed their functions:

We have, therefore, taken the resolution of preserving to those of our

imperial servants, who have hitherto drawn their salaries from our

chamber, the same appointments, reserving to ourselves to place them

in employments in the service of our hereditary states; and we hope,

with so much the more confidence, that the electors, princes, and

states will provide for the imperial chamber of justice of the empire,

and the chancellerie of the chamber of justice, by charging themselves

voluntarily with this expense, as it will be trifling in amount, and

will diminish every year.

As to the chancellerie of the aulic council of the empire, the funds

destined for its support will be employed to provide for the wants of

those individuals who have hitherto drawn from thence their salaries;

this will serve them until other measures may be taken.

Done in our capital and residence of Vienna, under our imperial seal,

the 6th of August, 1806.

FRANCIS.

CHAPTER XXII.

IMPERIAL REGULATION NECESSARY TO BE KNOWN ... THE DIRECTOR OF THE BUREAU

DES DILIGENCES PAR EAU ... SINGULAR ADVENTURE ... A SCRAPE ... A

STRATAGEM ... PASSAGE TO BONN ... A DISCOVERY ... EXCELLENT EFFECT OF

BRANDY ... THE CITY OF BONN ... THE MALL ... EFFECT OF BLACK ... PRESENT

STATE OF BONN ... THE SEVEN MOUNTAINS ... THE MONASTERY ... ANECDOTE OF

THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE ... BEAUTIFUL SCENERY.

In consequence of having been informed the preceding evening that an

imperial decree had passed, by which strangers entering the French

empire were permitted to bring as much money into it as they chose, but

were not suffered to take out of it more than what certain officers

appointed for that purpose considered necessary for the prosecution of

their journey, the surplus passing in the nature of a forfeiture to the

crown, I concealed about thirty ducats, which fell within this

description of overplus, in my cravat, and at five o’clock in the

morning, marched from my hotel to the bureau des diligences par eau, a

distance full two English miles, to be searched for this superfluity of

cash, previous to my ascending the Rhine. At this house a scene took

place which perhaps has not often occurred to travellers, in consequence

of the temporary apprehension which it excited, the ridiculous situation

in which it placed me, and the retributive chastisement which it

inflicted for thus venturing upon an hostile shore. I was introduced

into a room looking upon the Rhine; at the bureau sat the Director, a

man who wore spectacles, with a strongly marked, expressive countenance,

apparently about fifty years of age; upon my bowing to him he demanded

of me, in German, who I was? I requested him to address me in French,

which he did, repeating the question. I told him I was an American going

to the Francfort fair, upon which he put down his spectacles, and

running up to me, squeezed my hand with a violence of compression

infinitely more painful than agreeable, and exclaimed in very good

English, “How happy is this day to me! for I too am an American.” I was

obliged to return the affectionate salutation, and also to express my

delight in having, so far from our native home, met with a countryman.

He then asked me from what part of America I came? “From Baltimore,” was

the answer. “Happier and happier!” cried he renewing his embrace, “for I

was born there too.” At this moment I wished, for the first time in my

life, all the force of the _amor patriæ_ at the devil; but there was no

time to be lost in meditating upon the peril and awkwardness of my

situation. To prevent, as much as possible his interrogating me further

about my adopted country, I addressed with all possible fluency, as many

questions as I could suggest respecting Cologne, the Rhine, the war; in

short, I touched upon every subject but what had an American tendency.

To my observations he bowed, to my questions he gave very brief answers,

and continued expressing his delight in seeing me, a delight which was

very far from being reciprocal. After ordering his servants to bring

breakfast for me, which I did not decline, although I had already taken

that meal at my hotel, for fear of offending him, he made many inquiries

after some persons whom he named, and mentioned to be of the first

consequence in Baltimore. I gave him to understand that I had left the

city when quite a boy; but upon his assuring me that I must remember or

have heard of the persons he had named, I gave him to understand that my

recollection of them was very imperfect, but that I believed they had

perished by the yellow fever; upon hearing which he expressed great

affliction, observing they were the dearest friends he had in Baltimore

before he quitted it, about fifteen years since. In this uncomfortable

situation I sat vis-à-vis with my tormentor, who continued, during

breakfast, to overload me with expressions of kindness. At last the

skipper of the Rhine boat made his appearance, with the welcome

information that the boat was ready, upon which the director ordered him

to make up a bed for me on board if I wished it, and to show me every

possible attention, adding, that I was his particular friend and

countryman. I now thought the hour of my deliverance was arrived, and

that an adventure which promised so adversely would terminate in the

display of the civilities I have enumerated; but it was determined that

my correction was not yet sufficient, for as the director looked out of

the window, he exclaimed, “here comes my secretary, a very steady young

man, who can attend to the office for the day,” and then turning round

to me, added, “and I can now have the happiness of going half a day’s

journey with you, which I am resolved to do; yes, I will show to you how

dear my countrymen are to me, by going as for as Bonn with you.”

Distressed and embarrassed beyond measure at this fresh proof of his

provoking and perplexing regard for America and me, I tried in vain to

prevail upon him not to think of carrying his politeness so far, and

expressed my strong sense of the attentions with which he had already

_completely overwhelmed_ me: all that I urged appeared only to redouble

the warmth of his expressions, and to confirm him in his determination.

With a heavy heart and a light countenance we walked arm and arm down to

the shore, and ascended the boat, over which, as well as all the other

Cologne passage boats, it appeared he had complete sovereignty by virtue

of his office, and in a minute afterwards the towing horse advanced at a

rate of about two English miles and an half in an hour on the French

side of the river. The director made me sit next to him in the cabin,

telling the passengers, who appeared to be very respectable, that I was

an American and his countryman, and that that was the happiest day he

had experienced for fifteen years. In the course of conversation with

him, from the gasconade stories which he related of his own exploits, I

was induced to entertain suspicions of his character; he told me that he

was one of the most conspicuous characters in the French revolution;

that General Custine owed all his glory in the field to him; that he had

long resided at Berlin, where he had, by his intrigues, maintained for

some time a complete ascendency in the Prussian cabinet; that he was

engaged in a vast literary work, in which all the great events that had

agitated the world for the last ten years, would be unfolded in a manner

never before developed; that he had entered into the service of the

French Emperor, solely to promote the interest of the empire. He

observed, after engaging my word to keep the matter secret until I

reached my own country, that the Emperor was abhorred throughout the

empire, that he was a remorseless tyrant, and that _he_ could prove him

to be a coward.

To the latter part of his assertion I took care to offer no remark, but

under the pretence of wishing to view the city of Cologne at a distance,

the river and the country, and also to gain a little respite from such a

rapid succession of untoward circumstances, I ascended the top of the

cabin and refreshed myself by making the sketch engraved. The tower, the

mighty mass of the unfinished cathedral, the numerous spires, the shores

on either side, the rapid motion of the vessel descending the Rhine, the

singing of those on board, the clear brilliancy of the sky, afforded

reanimating delight to my mind.

About ten o’clock my persecutor raised his head through the cabin door,

to announce that dinner was ready, and to request my company: upon

descending I found some soup, and beef roasted after the German fashion,

and that the director had, while I was above, been taken ill, from the

occasional agitation of the boat, that to allay his sickness he had

asked one of the gentlemen on board for some brandy, and of which he had

evidently taken a great deal too much: the spirit rapidly operated upon

his head, and a more abominable nuisance in the shape of man I never

beheld: incapable of sitting at table with such a miscreant, I resumed

my old place where I had not been seated long before I heard him abusing

all the passengers, except myself, for whom he again expressed “the

assurance of his high consideration,” and threatening to order them all

to be thrown overboard, which he seemed to be perfectly able to do

himself, for he was one of the most powerful men I ever beheld: upon

which they relinquished the cabin to himself, and, excepting a very

pretty French girl, came upon deck. Upon hearing her scream violently, I

went below to see what _influence his countryman_ could now have over

the director: as I was handing her out of the cabin, he forcibly pulled

me back, closed the door, and said, in a manner which was perfectly

intelligible, though occasionally interrupted by the spasms of

intoxication, “I know you, though you think I do not; you are _no

American_, you are an Englishman, and a son of Mr. Erskine the orator;

you are here on a secret mission, and your life is in my hands, but I

will not betray you.” The reply I made was, “I am engaged in no secret

mission, my soul would revolt at it, nor can I be the son of my Lord

Erskine, for he is now upon the ocean, as ambassador from the court of

Great Britain to my country;” to which I added, “that it was in vain for

him to attempt to deceive me any longer, for I was satisfied, by his

observations respecting America, that he had not been born in that

country:” to which, to my no little consternation, he replied, “No, nor

have I ever been there, I am a German by birth, I was educated by an

Englishman who lived at my father’s, and I am now in the service of one

of the greatest heroes, and the most illustrious of men.”

I know not whether my life was in peril, but it is certain my liberty

was, and to preserve it, I thought that something should be immediately

done; accordingly I ascended the top of the cabin, where all the

passengers were assembled in a state of considerable uneasiness, from

one of whom I borrowed a bottle of brandy and a coffee-cup, with which I

returned to the director, and insisted upon drinking his health in some

excellent spirit, and raising my hand and the bottle in a manner which,

in his state, prevented him from seeing what I poured out, I affected to

fill and drink it off; I then gave him a bumper, which I several times

repeated in a similar manner, until the miscreant dropped under the

table, where he continued in a state of utter insensibility, and with

little appearance of life, until we arrived, which we did in about six

hours, at Bonn, when he was taken out of the vessel by some men,

conveyed to a house near the banks of the river, and, thank heaven! I

saw no more of him, but proceeded with the rest of the passengers to a

very neat inn a little way in the city, where we had an excellent dinner

and some good white Rhine wine. The stream of the Rhine became less

rapid as we approached Bonn, where its waters are shallower than in the

neighbourhood of Cologne, where all large vessels ship their cargoes

which are destined for any of the towns higher up, into craft

constructed peculiarly for the purpose, and which draw much less water.

As I determined to sleep at Bonn, I had a favourable opportunity of

seeing this beautiful little city, which enabled the former Electors of

Cologne to display their taste by selecting it for their residence. It

was elegantly and justly observed by a French lady on board of the boat

as we approached the city, _Voilà Bonne! c’est une petite perle!_ no

expression could describe it better; when I made my view of it, the dark

clouds behind it set off the pearl-like appearance of the palace and

buildings. I saw no spot on the Rhine in the shape of a town with which

I was so much delighted; it consisted of little more than 1000 houses

and 8000 inhabitants. In the neighbourhood the country begins to

undulate, and the vines make a luxuriant appearance. The wine made here

and in the adjacent parts is tolerably good; that which grows upon the

black basalt hills, further to the southward, is infinitely preferable,

black being a powerful agent to attract and retain heat; hence the rents

of hills are rather high. So powerful is this colour in attracting and

retaining the heat, that a very intelligent friend of mine, who resided

for some time in China, informed me, that for the purpose of ripening

their fruits as early as possible, the Chinese gardeners paint their

garden walls black, and lately in some parts of England this plan has

been followed. Everything in and about the city bears testimony to the

enlightened liberality and refined taste of the last of the Electors of

Cologne, who was cordially beloved and admired by all classes of his

subjects. The building which was once his palace, is very extensive; it

stands just without the city upon an elevation of ground, and commands a

most enchanting prospect, embracing the windings of the majestic Rhine,

part of the village of Poppledorff, the ci-devant monastery of Gruizberg

crowning the summit of a hill, and at a distance the Seven Mountains,

clothed with vineyards, and the spires of Coblentz. This beautiful

building is now applied to government purposes; in the left wing towards

the orange garden, which is prettily disposed, the French Emperor has

preserved the Lyceum for instructing boys in Latin, Greek, German,

French, mathematics, and philosophy: the professors are very able men,

and the institution is in a flourishing condition: this is one amongst

the many noble establishments founded by the last Elector, which in his

reign was kept in another quarter of the city: this elegant pile of

building, which is now stripped of all its valuable ornaments, was

raised by the elector Clement Augustus in 1777, upon the same site on

which no less than four preceding palaces had fallen victims to the

flames: there is a beautiful walk under a quadruple row of lime trees,

which leads to a small country palace: this walk forms the fashionable

parade of the city, and was graced by a number of beautiful and

elegantly dressed ladies. Some very pleasant French officers, with whom

I was walking in this place, expressed their surprise at seeing an

Englishman amongst them, and I was obliged to find refuge again in my

American adoption.

Through a beautiful and romantic country, by a short walk a little

beyond Gruizberg, towards the south, is the picturesque hill of

Godesberg, or Godshill, so called from a sanative mineral spring flowing

close to it, which contains fixed air, iron, magnesia, and salt: the

last Elector who never omitted any thing which could add to the comfort

and happiness of his people, erected an assembly and other rooms, and

also pleasure gardens for recreation close to the spring, and by some

very wise regulations, encouraged the building of lodging-houses. At

this place, many of the unhappy French emigrants, after the revolution,

found a little relief from the miserable recollections of their fallen

fortunes and altered fate: the court of the prince bishop was remarkable

for the elegance, hospitality, and refined freedom which reigned

throughout it, and in return in every visitor he beheld a friend. The

influence of this scene of courtly felicity upon the manners of the

people had not as yet subsided. A peculiar air of refinement

distinguished the deportment of the inhabitants: after an exquisite

ramble, I returned through the square, a spacious irregular area, where

the French troops quartered in the place were exercising, and where a

very ancient Gothic town house stands, to supper at my hotel, at the

table d’hote of which I again smarted for the temerity of trespassing

upon this delightful spot. During our repast, which abounded with a

great variety of choice and excellent dishes, and which was attended by

many French officers, a German lady who sat opposite to me, always

addressed and alluded to me by the perilous name of “_Monsieur

Anglois_,” which excited some considerable attention amongst the company

towards me; at last a French officer whose physiognomy did not present

the most pleasing collection of features, rose up, eyed me all over, and

went out: I expected nothing less than being obliged to take shelter

once more under my American alliance, but after waiting in the room an

hour, I saw nothing more of him, and went to bed. Whilst a cruel and

savage state of hostility between man and man thus embarrassed the

progress of a traveller, whose only object was to contemplate the

beautiful face of nature, never did the divine object of his pursuit

appear more arrayed in the smiles of _peace_ and loveliness. The

government of Bonn, as well as Cologne, and all the other cities on the

left bank of the Rhine is vested in a governor appointed by Napoleon,

and is purely military. Under a clear and cloudless sky I bade adieu to

Bonn with great reluctance, and embarked on board of the passage-boat

bound to Cassel. As we passed the lofty towers of Plittersdorff, on our

right, the Rhine unfolded itself in all its glory. On our left the seven

mountains (Sieben Geburge) called the Drakenfels, Wolkenbourg,

Rolandsekke, Löwenburgh, Nonnenstromberg, Hoke Ochlbey, and Hemmerick,

arose with uncommon grandeur, crowned with convents and the venerable

ruins of castles. In distant ages, many a German baron bold resided in

rude dignity with his martial followers upon the summit of these

mountains, from whence they waged war against each other, and many of

their remains of antiquity are the work of Valentinian in the fourth

century, who overthrew the Germans, and who fell a victim to his

inordinate passion, for when the Quadi sent to him to make a peace, the

_awkward appearance_ of some of the ambassadors so enraged him, that in

his anger he burst an artery.

Drackensels has infinitely the advantage of situation; it rises

perpendicularly from the river to a stupendous height, crowned with the

roofless remains of an ancient castle, brown with antiquity; midway it

is covered with luxuriant vines, whilst all above is red and gray rock.

The other mountains, which recede to a great distance, appeared to be

clothed with the clustering grape, on the opposite side the vineyards,

sloping close to the water’s edge, extended as far as they could reach;

every where the genius of this terrestrial Paradise seemed as if with

tasteful finger he had

——led the vine

To wed her elm——she spoused about him twines

Her marriageable arms! and with her brings

Her dower, the adopted clusters, to adorn

Her barren leaves. MILTON.

As we advanced, a beautiful island in the centre of the river, covered

with poplars, walnut-trees and elms, from the bosom of which arose the

roof and belfry of the monastery of Nonen Werth, or Worthy Nuns, formed

the back scene: the bosom of the river was enlivened with the peasants

of the neighbourhood moving in boats worked and steered with paddles,

and the banks of the French territory with groups of French soldiers

bathing, and singing their national songs.

As we passed the monastery the matin bells rung, and gave a romantic

interest to the scene: this pious seclusion is included in the French

line of sovereignty, and was condemned by Bonaparte to change its owners

and its nature for ever; but at the earnest intercession of the Empress

Josephine, he consented to suffer the sisterhood to enjoy it during

their lives, after which it will devolve to the empire. Wherever power

could effect and policy justify the measure, Bonaparte has displayed his

decided hostility to monastic establishments of every description; he

considers them as so many sinks of sloth, in which all the noble

principles and purposes of life become stagnant. In Paris only one

convent, that of the Blue Nuns, is permitted to remain. The numerous

convents which adorn the French side of the Rhine with the most

picturesque appearance, are either converted into fabrics, or suffered

to run to dilapidation: the river, from its meanderings, is land-locked

all the way, every turning of which surprised and captivated me with

some new beauty. Here, behind a line of walnut, lime and beech trees,

just skirting the margin of the river, a stupendous pyramidal cliff

appears, with every projection upon which the cultivator could lodge a

layer of vegetable mould, supporting a little growth of vine: there,

mountains of vineyards, relieved by mouldering castles, and convents

rising from masses of rock shooting forwards, or piercing the sky from

their pointed pinnacles, arrest the attention. Sometimes a torrent

brightens before the beholder, and distantly roars upon the ear; at

others the naked bed of one appears, or a rude gap through which the eye

penetrates into ranges of other vine-clad mountains, variegated with

majestic ruins, is seen. At the base of the hills on the sides of the

river numerous towers and villages constantly appear, defended by

ancient walls and turrets, adorned with venerable churches, brown with

age, surmounted with lofty spires, every where inviting the reflection

of the moralist, the investigation of the antiquary, the song of the

poet, and the pencil of the painter.

CHAPTER XXIII.

BASALT MOUNTAINS ... ANDERNACH ... ANECDOTE OF GENERAL HOCHE ... RHENISH

FLOATS ... SINGULAR ACCIDENT ... FRENCH POLICE ... NEUWEID ... THE RHINE

BOAT ... TOMB OF GENERAL MARCEAU ... ANECDOTE OF FRENCH HEROISM ...

COBLENTZ ... ITS SURRENDER TO THE FRENCH ARMS ... ANEDOTE OF FRENCH

VIVACITY ... THE ROCK AND FORTRESS OF EHRENBREITSTEIN ... THE

GRIFFON ... STUPENDOUS FRENCH ROADS ... BOPPART.

Almost all the immense mass of mountains which extend from Bonn to

Andernach, is composed of the basalt and slate; the former has a more

artificial appearance than almost any other mineral production. In no

form can it puzzle the philosopher more than at the Giant’s Causeway, in

Ireland, where it assumes a columnar shape, which has every appearance

of having been chisseled by the hand of a skilful mason, and of having

been regular granite cooling after fusion, and formed into regular

masses by crystallization. In the small cavities of these mountains the

martins and swallows find refuge, and in a comfortable state of

torpidity pass through the cold and cheerless weather of winter. The

children of the peasantry amuse themselves in discovering their

retreats, at an apparent exposure of their own lives.

In an amphitheatre of vast dusky basalt mountains, the sombre gates,

towers and pinnacles of Andernach appeared: in consequence of the river

making a long sweep, I landed with an intention of rejoining the boat at

a village named by the skipper; a more solemn scene of gloom and

grandeur, I never contemplated: the ruins of this town towards Coblentz

are of great antiquity. The inhabitants insist upon it, that the remains

of the Emperor Valentine are deposited in one of their churches, and

that Julius Cæsar when he so victoriously fought against the Suabians,

passed over the Rhine at this spot, where Drusus the general of

Augustus, built one of those fifty castles which are erected on the

banks of the Rhine: but the French, who narrowly investigated every part

of the river which their victorious arms enabled them to visit, with

great acuteness, and with the assistance of history, believe that this

celebrated landing was effected a little higher up the river, a short

distance from Engers, at a place called the White Tower (der Weisse

Thurm), the venerable front of which I saw as I afterwards advanced on

our right, in the centre of a sudden recess of the river, where it has

the appearance of having served the united purposes of a castle and a

watch tower; at its base is a considerable village, which formerly

belonged to the Elector of Treves: this situation is from a combination

of local advantages, peculiarly favorable to the completion of such a

passage, and in confirmation of the opinion, a great number of Roman

antiquities have been found there. General Hoche, at the head of an

immense army, aided by the obscurity of the night, crossed the Rhine at

this place in 1797, and astonished the imperial troops the next morning

by their presence.

This was the last exploit of that general. Near this tower there are

deposited his remains, over which a mausoleum has been erected. This

young commander died of an enlargement of the heart at Wetzlar. His

funeral was conducted with uncommon military pomp. The procession moved

from the place where he died, across the Rhine to the White Tower,

amidst the discharge of cannon, which were fired every quarter of an

hour.

The trade of the Rhine is here very flourishing, for exclusive of the

neighbouring vineyards which produce fine wines, and the basalts of the

adjoining mountains used for building and paving, this city derives

considerable wealth from the lapis tophaceus or tuf stone, the harder

sort of which form excellent millstones; vast quantities are shipped for

Holland, to construct or repair its dykes with, and the more friable is

used for building, whilst its powder mixed with lime forms the hardest

and most durable cement. I saw the cabins of several treckschuyts in

Holland covered with it, which were perfectly impervious to the rain:

the Germans also use it to floor their houses with. This stone is

considered to be a species of the pumice-stone, or imperfect lava, and

of volcanic production.

On the banks leading to this city, I saw part of one of those amazing

floats of timber which are formed of lesser ones, conveyed to this city

from the forests adjoining the Rhine, the Moselle, the Maine, &c.; these

floats are attached to each other, and form a platform generally of the

enormous dimensions of eight hundred feet in length, and one hundred and

sixty in breadth, upon which a little village containing about eighty

wooden houses is erected for the accommodation of those who are

interested in, and assist in navigating this stupendous raft, frequently

amounting to seven and eight hundred persons, men, women, and children;

besides these buildings, there are stalls for cattle, slaughtering

houses, and magazines for provisions: the float is prevented from

striking against the shores, where the turnings are abrupt, by the

application of thirty or forty anchors, which with the necessary cables

are conveyed in fourteen or fifteen boats which precede it, and its

course is safely directed by German and Dutch pilots, who are hired for

the purpose.

After great rains when the current is rapid, the whole is entrusted to

its propelling force, otherwise several hundred persons are employed in

rowing, who move their oars at a given word of command. The whole of

these wonderful moving masses is under the entire direction of a

governor or superintendant, and several officers under him. Sometimes

they are months in performing their voyage, in consequence of the water

being low, in which case they are obliged to wait till the river is

swelled by the rains. In this manner they float from the _high_ to the

_low_ countries, and upon their arrival at the place of destination, the

whole is broken up, and finds a ready market. About twelve of them

annually arrive at Dort, in Holland, in the months of July and August,

where these German timber-merchants having converted their floats into

good Dutch ducats, return to their own country with their families, to

enjoy the produce of their labour and enterprize.

The clergy and monks in Andernach used to be, to use a good humoured

homely expression of a late illustrious statesman, upon an application

made to him for a place under his administration “as thick as five in a

bed;” beside six vicars belonging to a large parish church, there were

no less than five crowded convents, and the population did not exceed

four thousand souls: the convents are now converted into garrisons for

French soldiers, and storehouses for tradesmen. After viewing the city,

I set off on the road to Coblentz, with a view of meeting the boat at

the place appointed, and after walking about two miles, I lost all

traces of the river; however, observing about three parts of a mile off,

the tops of a long semicircular line of poplars, I concluded the river

flowed by them, and I accordingly endeavoured to penetrate to the bank

through a large willow wood, in which I soon lost myself. At last,

however, I succeeded in forcing a way into a little footpath, in

pursuing which I suddenly came upon a Frenchman, poorly clothed in

green, with a book in his hand; he courteously addressed me, remarked

that I looked rather warm, and conducted me to a recess in the wood,

close to the water, where there was a bed of straw and a gun: at first I

regarded him as a robber, but he soon gave me to understand that he was

a link in a vast chain, composed of forty thousand soldiers, placed in

this sort of ambuscade at the distance of a gun shot from each other, by

the orders of the government of France, to guard the left bank of the

Rhine from smugglers; and that to prevent contraband practices, no boat

is suffered to pass either up or down the river after sunset, without

being fired upon; that they are always clothed in a sombre dress, to

prevent observation, and are concealed in this manner wherever the sides

of the river will admit of it. Upon my informing him that I had lost my

way and my boat, he politely assured me that it had not yet ascended the

river, and hailed a little punt passing by, which enabled me to regain

the vessel, then very fortunately just approaching. Notwithstanding the

vigilance of the French police, the rafts I have described carry on a

considerable contraband trade in the Rhine wines and Seltzer water.

Opposite to the spot where this occurrence took place, at the bottom of

a range of hills, is the delightful town and palace of Neuwied, built of

white stone, at one end of the line of poplars which I have mentioned,

and almost the only town I saw without walls or any sort of

fortification on the Rhine. Nothing could exceed the air of happiness

and prosperity which seemed to reign in this delectable little capital,

which looked perfectly fresh and new, the prince of which receives,

because he deserves, the affections of his subjects; every one on board,

with great vivacity, spoke of the toleration, the liberal extension of

the rights of citizenship to foreigners, and the public spirit of its

ruler. The place is enriched by several flourishing iron works, steel,

paper, and cotton manufactures (the latter, the first introduced into

Germany), printing, watch, and ingenious cabinet-making. Before the last

war, in the forges and founderies, and different fabrics, not less than

four thousand persons were employed, and their circulation at a fair has

been known to amount to forty or fifty thousand florins. There is an

establishment of Moravian brethren here more numerous than that at

Zeyst. The last and the present wars have of course considerably reduced

the number of workmen, by forcing many of them into the army; but,

notwithstanding, there is no town on the Rhine in a more enviable

condition, for every thing which can impart content and felicity to man.

It was a curious and highly interesting circumstance to see in Neuwied

and Andernach, almost opposite to each other, the most modern and the

most ancient city on the Rhine. The price of freight upon the Rhine is

rather high: before the French united together so many petty

sovereignties it was much higher, owing to the number of tolls which

were paid to each; previous to that event there were no less than twelve

tolls to discharge between Cologne and Amsterdam.

We had a very good table d’hote on board, at a moderate price, abundance

of Rhine crabs, excellent grapes, and a variety of other fruits, which,

as well as the most delicious bread I ever tasted, we purchased at the

different towns where we stopped. I had the comfort of being attended by

an intelligent, animated fellow, who had been in the service of the

immortal Nelson on board of one of the ships which he commanded, and

afterwards with the English army in Egypt, who offered his services on

board the boat at a very reasonable rate. The richness, novelty, and

majesty of the scenery, kept me constantly on the roof of the cabin,

from the early hour of starting till the hour of nine at night, when,

for the reason stated, we always stopped at some town or village till

morning. In these stoppages we entirely depended upon the variable

velocity of the current, not to say a word of the caprice of our

skipper, or the influence which the residence of any particular

favourite or friend might have upon him; the consequence of which was,

that we arrived at places to sup and sleep where we were not expected,

and of course our patience was put to a little, but never a considerable

trial. Within three or four miles of Coblentz, on our right in ascending

the river, we passed a pyramidical mausoleum, erected to the memory of

the French general Marceau, who distinguished himself at the battle of

Mons and Savenai, and died of the wounds which he received at the battle

of Altenkirchen in 1796.

At Bendorf, a romantic village on our left, upon a branch of the river,

a terrible battle was fought between the French army, commanded by Gen.

Hoche, and the Austrians, after the former had effected the passage I

have before mentioned, from the white tower, which, after a tremendous

slaughter on both sides, terminated in the retreat of the imperial

troops. In this battle an extraordinary instance of prowess and

enthusiasm occurred, which is said to have decided the fate of the day;

the French had frequently attacked an Austrian redoubt, the possession

of which was of great consequence to them, and had as often been

repulsed with great carnage; at last a French general rode up to the

granadiers commanded by Captain Gros, and exclaimed, “Soldiers, swear to

me that you will make yourselves masters of that redoubt.” “We swear,”

replied Gros, holding up his hand, and his soldiers doing the same: they

returned to the attack with redoubled fury, and the havoc became

dreadful: the French troops were upon the point of again giving way,

when their leader had his right arm crushed by a grape shot, upon which,

with a smile of triumph, he grasped his sabre with his left, rallied his

men and carried the redoubt. As we turned a considerable meander of the

river by Neuendorff, one of the grandest spectacles I almost ever

contemplated opened upon me: the mighty rock of Ehrenbreitstein,

formerly called the Gibraltar of the Rhine, with its dismantled

batteries and ruined castles, rose with awful and unexampled majesty on

the south; at its base was the palace formerly belonging to the Elector

of Treves, and the town bearing the name of this wonderful

fortification; and immediately opposite to it, as we advanced a little

farther, the beautiful city of Coblentz appeared. Here we were obliged

to be separated from our horse, on account of the Moselle, which

discharges itself into the Rhine at this place, the mouth of which we

crossed by the assistance of our boatmen’s poles. Over this river there

is a handsome stone bridge of many arches, and formerly there was a

bridge of boats from this city to Ehrenbreitstein, which has been most

judiciously removed, and succeeded by one of the flying bridges before

described, by which a more convenient communication is kept completely

open, and the navigation is not impeded. Coblentz is a very ancient

city; it was the seat of the Roman emperors, and of the kings of the

Franks, and a favourite residence of the archbishops and electors of

Treves, who, in ancient times of broil and peril, resided in the castle

which crowns the majestic rock opposite to the city. Before the

revolution there were three parish churches, two colleges, a church

belonging to the Jesuits, four convents of monks, dominicans,

carmelites, franciscans, and capuchins, and three nunneries. At that

period the population of the inhabitants, of the garrison, and the vale

of Ehrenbreitstein, was calculated at 13,000 souls; at present it is not

supposed to exceed nine thousand. The city has many good and some

handsome buildings, and it is further recommended by its supplies of

excellent mines, pit-coal, wood, and lime. Its best square is the

Clemenstadt; there are several handsome hotels, of which the ancient

hotel, the vast rock which formerly protected it, and the antiquity of

its buildings, cast a gloomy grandeur over the whole place, which never

exhibited so much gaiety as in the winter of 1791, when the French

princes and their followers were nobly entertained and protected here by

the Elector, before they marched to Champagne, to experience those

disasters which finally confirmed the overthrow of their devoted house.

Coblentz derives its name by not a little meander of etymology, from the

confluence of the Rhine and the Moselle at its base. Ausonius, one of

the most celebrated of the Latin poets of the fourth century, wrote five

hundred verses in commemoration of this river, which, compared with the

majesty of the river into which it rolls and is lost, is scarcely worthy

of such an honour: the view from its banks is also in an equal degree of

comparative inferiority, and by the unceasing agitation of its

confluence, it has the reputation of having alarmed the tender nerves of

the river-fish, of which the inhabitants of this city are not so well

supplied as the neighbouring towns.

One of the most beautiful objects in this place is the new palace, built

to the south of the city, close to the Rhine, by that splendid and

amiable prince, the Elector Clemont Vencelas; it is of brick stuccoed,

to resemble stone, has a noble Ionic portico, and including its wings,

extends one hundred and eighty yards. A further description of its

exterior, as I have made a drawing of it, and moreover as it is now

converted into an hospital, were useless. Its grand staircase, its

apartments consisting of a chapel, an audience-hall, concert-room,

library, cabinet, dining-room, besides an immense number of other rooms,

excited the admiration of every visitor, by their magnitude,

magnificence, or elegance. Its furniture, its mantle-pieces, its

tapestry, and inlaid floors, all corresponded in taste and splendor with

the rest of the building; now not a vestige of its consequence or

original destination remains, but what its walls display. Most of the

windows are broken, stuffed with hay, or further disfigured by having

linen hanging out to dry from them; the area before the grand front,

which was formed into an elegant promenade, is now broken, and its

graceful plantation totally destroyed. A little way further to the

southward, on the opposite side, under the impending rocks of

Ehrenbreitstein, is the old palace, a sombre building, which the Elector

Clement quitted almost entirely on account of its gloom, and the

humidity of its situation.

The Elector of Treves excited the indignation of the French against him

very early in the French revolution, by encouraging the expatriated

French princes to reside and hold their counterrevolutionary councils at

Coblentz. In September, 1794, General Jourdan, with his accustomed

energy, compelled the Austrians to retreat to Hervé, and afterwards to

Aix la Chapelle, when, supported by the main body of the army, the

French attacked all the enemy’s posts from Ruremonde to Juliers: at this

eventful period, General Clairfayt having occupied a strong position

upon the Roer, resisted the French for some time, but their ardor and

numbers at length compelled the Austrians to retire into Germany,

leaving behind them ten thousand of their comrades, killed or taken

prisoners, in the short space of three days; and soon afterwards a

detachment of the French army, under the command of General Moreau,

entered Coblentz as victors, Cologne being already in their possession,

and Mainz, or Mayence, the only city in the possession of the allies on

the left bank of the Rhine.

I was informed by some French officers who were in the boat with me,

that the society in Coblentz was very elegant; that a number of families

lived in splendor; and also, that Bonaparte had continued with some

modifications the colleges, and most of the public institutions, which

the Electors of Treves had at various times established in that city.

The vast and celebrated monastery, called in German Karthaus, or La

Chartreuse, situated on a high mountain, in the neighbourhood to the

west of Coblentz, from which the countries of Treves, Mayence, Cologne,

Darmstadt, d’Anspach, and Wied, may be seen, is converted into an

observatory, and a place of very agreeable recreation.

Upon my return, in descending the Rhine, I had an opportunity of more

closely seeing Ehrenbreitstein, which I was enabled to do from the

following circumstance: the Rhine schuyt was uncommonly crowded, and

late in the evening we arrived at a hamlet on the right bank of the

river to sleep: the house in which we were to pass the night was not

able to furnish beds more than barely sufficient for the ladies on

board, which at once determined a French officer, one of the party, who

had not placed his head upon a pillow for three preceding nights, and

who was a wretched invalid, apparently in the last stage of a decline,

to hunt amongst the cottagers for a fiddler, to whose miserable sounds

this epitome of his nation, with several other officers and petty German

merchants, danced till the dawn of day, _pour passer le temps_, and the

boat was ready to proceed. Having found by moon-light a nook in a

peasant’s nest, in the most romantic situation under heaven, I lay down,

and never awoke till an hour after the boat had departed, in which

dilemma I was obliged to hire a punt with two paddles, and by the

assistance of a couple of sturdy peasants overtook the passage-boat,

which lay off Coblentz, during which I visited Ehrenbreitstein. At its

base there is a pretty town and an excellent hotel; opposite to the

palace is a walk of limes, close to which was moored the electoral state

yacht, or barge, in shape and size resembling our Lord Mayor’s, but not

quite so gaudy. The ascent to this stupendous rock, which is eight

hundred feet in a perpendicular line above the level of the river, is by

a very narrow, steep, and winding path: the noble fortification on its

sides, and the castles, arsenals, barracks, and batteries upon its

summit, from whence the eye can behold the mountains of Lorraine, the

meanders of the Rhine, and the countries through which it flows to a

vast distance, and from which the beholder might almost think he could

step into the clouds, are all roofless and dismantled. The citadel was

erected by the order of the Prince Bishop Herman Hillinus, in the 12th

century, upon the ruins of an ancient Roman building.

In the centre of the square, or parade upon the top, was formerly

mounted the celebrated cannon, called “the Griffon,” as well known to

the Germans as that called “Queen Anne’s pocket-piece” is to the

English. The former merits the national pride which it has excited. It

was cast at Francfort by the order of the Elector, Richard Greifenklau,

weighed thirty thousand pounds, and was capable of projecting a ball of

one hundred and eighty pounds, to a distance of sixteen miles. Close to

the touch-hole there was the following inscription: “Vogel Grief heis

ich, meinem gnädigen herrn von Trier dien ich, wo er mich heist

gewanten, da will ich Thoren und mauren Zerspalten. Simon gos mich,

1528.” In English—“Griffon is my name, I serve my gracious master of

Treves, I shatter gates and walls, whenever he commands me to exert my

force. Simon cast me, 1528.” This rock was supplied with water from a

well 280 feet deep, which occupied three years in digging, in the year

1481, and has a subterranean communication with Coblentz, dug out of the

solid rock: the fortress was justly deemed, when properly garrisoned,

impregnable. In the time of the Swedish war, the attacks of eighty

thousand French troops on the southern side of it, and of forty thousand

on the northern, could make no impression upon it; however, still

maintaining its invulnerable character, it was destined to bend to a

foe, before which all local advantage is useless, and all enterprise

unavailing: after bravely sustaining a blockade for a whole year, by the

troops of the French republic, the garrison having endured with the

greatest fortitude almost every description of privation and misery,

were obliged to surrender to _famine_, and capitulated on the 28th

January, 1799; soon after which the French covered this mighty rock with

the ruins of those wonderful fortifications, which had employed the

skill of the ablest engineer to complete, and which, but for the want of

food, would have defied the force of her assailing enemy to the end of

time. The thal, or valley below, is justly celebrated for its fertility

and romantic beauty.

Soon after our departure from Coblentz, we passed the island of

Obewerth; and a little further on, on our left, the disemboguement of

the river Lahn, which flows between two ancient and picturesque towns,

called the Upper and Lower Lahnsteins, where the Rhine forms a

considerable curve, and expands into the resemblance of a placid lake,

adorned with two vast mountains, one crowned with a hoary watch tower,

and the base of the other half encircled by a village, and the whole

adorned by the captivating combinations of forest scenery, rich meadows,

and hanging vineyards and orchards, amidst which, half embosomed in

their foliage, the peasant’s peaceful dwelling every now and then

gladdened the eye. This lovely view was soon exchanged for one of gloomy

magnificence; before we reached Boppart, we entered a melancholy defile

of barren and rugged rocks, rising perpendicularly from the river to an

immense height, and throwing a shade and horror over the whole scene;

here all was silent, and no traces of man were to be found but in a few

dispersed fishermen’s huts, and crucifixes. Fear and superstition, “when

the day has gone down, and the stars are few,” have long filled every

cave with banditti, and every solitary recess with apparitions.

In the course of my passage I frequently, when the boat came very near

the land, sprung on shore with two or three other passengers, and varied

the scene by walking along the banks for a mile or two, and during these

excursions had frequently an opportunity of admiring the astonishing

activity and genius of the French, who have, since they became masters

of the left bank of the Rhine, nearly finished one of the finest roads

in the world, extending from Mayence to Cologne, in the course of which

they have cut through many rocks impending over the river, and triumphed

over some of the most formidable obstacles Nature could present to the

achievement of so wonderful a design. This magnificent undertaking,

worthy of Rome in the most shining periods of her history, was executed

by the French troops, who, under the direction of able engineers,

preferred leaving these monuments of indefatigable toil and elevated

enterprize, to passing their time, during the cessation of arms, in

towns and barracks, in a state of indolence and inutility.

The sombre spires of Boppart, surrounded by its black wall and towers,

presented a melancholy appearance to the eye, relieved by the rich

foliage of the trees in its vicinity, and the mountains behind it

irregularly intersected with terraces covered with vines to their very

summits. The antiquity of this city is very great; it was one of the

fifty places of defence erected on the banks of the Rhine by Drusus

Germanicus, and in the middle ages was an imperial city.

Not far from Boppart we saw, on the right bank of the river, a

procession of nuns and friars returning to a convent, the belfry of

which just peeped above a noble avenue of walnut-trees; they were

singing, and their voices increased the solemn effect of the surrounding

scenery. We put up for the night at a little village, amid mountains

half covered with vineyards, tufted with forests, and chequered with

convents and ruined castles. The evening was stormy, and a full moon

occasionally brightened the scene: frequently we were enveloped in

solemn gloom,

When the broken arches are as black as night,

And each shafted Oriel glimmers white,

When the cold light’s uncertain show’r,

Streams on the ruin’d central tow’r.

_Lay of the last Minstrel._

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE YOUNG CONSCRIPT ... SINGULAR FRENCH ANECDOTE ... ST. GOAR ... ITS

HISTORY ... OBERWESEL ... THE PALATINATE ... A CELEBRATED VINEYARD ... A

REGALE ... BACHARACH ... BACCHUS ... THE RHYNGAU SONG ... RÜDESHEIM ...

ROMAN DERIVATIONS ... THE PRIORY OF JOHANNESBERG ... VINEYARDS

CLASSED ... GRAPES CLASSED.

I have before mentioned the excellent accommodations which I have every

where experienced at the different towns we stopped at. Although at the

last place where we slept there were not above three or four houses, and

we were not expected, we had an excellent supper, and clean comfortable

beds. After our repast, as we were drinking some excellent hock, many of

the company present communicated the object of their voyage, and amongst

the rest an elegant young Frenchman, about nineteen, who had charmed us

all the way by his politeness and inexhaustible flow of spirits, told

us, to my no little surprise, that the object of his excursion would not

admit of his returning when he pleased, for he was on his way to join

part of the French army at Maynz, or Mayence, as a conscript; for which

he had been drawn; and as his father who was a man of fortune at

Aix-la-Chapelle, but was very fond of his money, would not put himself

to the expense of paying the substitution money for him, “par

conséquence,” said he with a smile of good humour, “il me faut aller en

personne.” He told us that he had no hopes of raising himself from the

ranks but by good conduct and equally good fortune, although his uncle

was a general in the service, and commanded that part of the army into

which he was soon to be incorporated. Whenever we stopped, he bestowed

his money with liberality to beggars and chambermaids, alleging, that as

he was about to be a soldier, he ought to live, when he became one, on a

soldier’s pay, and that to have more till he was promoted, would only

make him uncomfortable; adding, that on his arrival at head quarters, he

should order a noble dinner, and give his clothes to the waiters, and

surrender himself up to the captain of his company. He neither blamed

the cruelty of his father, the tyranny of the conscription, nor repined

at his unlucky fate, but filling a bumper, exclaimed, “Tout ce qu’il me

faut maintenant, c’est, de devenir bon soldat.” “All that I have to do

is to make myself a good soldier.” I never saw a point more easily and

comfortably settled in my life. Our young conscript had the best wishes

of us all, for his happiness and speedy promotion. This elastic spirit

of vivacity seems to be the common property of every Frenchman, and

never did it appear more striking than in the following circumstance:

upon an English surgeon some years since visiting a hospital at Paris,

he saw in one of the wards three Frenchmen who had received some very

severe contusions by the fall of a scaffold a few days before, lying in

bed; upon approaching them he found one dead, another dying, and the one

in the middle sitting upright in the bed, fiddling to several invalids,

who were dancing at the foot of it as well as they were able.

After a refreshing sleep we were called, upon the first intimation of

the day’s approach, and early in the morning arrived at St. Goar, after

passing by the ancient gothic tower of Welmich, the white and venerable

palace of Thurnburg, crowning the mountain behind it, and through most

delicious and romantic scenery, every where profusely embellished with

the hoary remains of piety and war, under the various tints of

progressive day. In a minute after the boat had stopped, all the

passengers disappeared to attend matins, it being Sunday, and left me to

gaze in amazement upon the stupendous rock of Rheinfels, or the rock of

the Rhine, which rises most majestically behind the town, and supports

the remains of a vast fortress which bears its name, and which the

French demolished in the last war. This fortress was next in strength to

that of Ehrenbreitstein; it was in the year 1245 converted from a

convent to a fortress, by Count Diether le Riche. In 1692 the Hessians,

who were in possession of it, made a gallant defence, headed by Colonel

Goerz, against the French, who were in superior force under the command

of the celebrated Mareschal de Tallard, who was compelled to give up the

siege. In the last war it experienced a different fate: the French

troops took quiet possession of it, and though it ranked next to

Ehrenbreitstein in strength and advantage, it partook not of the glory

of a similar resistance. At the foot of this enormous rock is a large

barrack lately built, but now deserted. There was also a flying bridge

here, but it has been removed.

In a bay of the river a little before we approached Oberwesel, there is

a vast rock, which the passengers on the river never fail to address,

for the purpose of hearing their own voices very closely imitated by its

echoes. Almost all the way from St. Goar to Oberwesel, we were environed

by enormous dark rocks covered with shattered fragments, impending over

and embrowning the face of the river with their awful shadows. The gloom

of the scene was enlivened only by a few fishermen’s huts here and there

interspersed, protected from the intense heat of the sun retained by and

reflected from the rocks rising above them, by the foliage of scanty

groups of trees. This melancholy defile prepared us for Oberwesel, a

venerable city, filled with the solemnity of ancient churches and

deserted convents. In the time of the Emperor Henry the Seventh, this

city was an imperial one; afterwards, and till the French seized it, it

was in the possession of the Elector of Treves. The church of the

Minorites had once a fine copy of Rubens’ Descent from the Cross, by a

disciple of his, which upon inquiry I found had been removed. Nothing

can exceed the beauty of the situation of this town; the scenery to the

south of it is luxuriant and romantic beyond imagination. Close to it,

rising from an avenue of stately walnut-trees, is a prodigious rock,

supporting the celebrated chateau de Schoenberg, which gave birth to the

illustrious and ancient family of the name of Belmont, afterwards

changed for the German name of Schoenberg or Beaumont: this place and

the neighbourhood abound with slate quarries. Immediately opposite, on

the eastern bank, lofty mountains clothed with hanging vineyards, and

attended by the usual association of mural ruins perched upon their

pinnacles, and of monastic buildings projecting from their sides, or

rising from their base, presented their majestic forms to the Rhine.

From Oberwesel we crossed over to Kaub, a fortified town a little way

further to the south. Previous to this we had kept, during the whole of

the passage, on the left bank. In crossing the river we passed close to

a large massy fortified tower, or fort, standing in the middle of the

Rhine upon a rock, called the Pfalz or Palatinate. In distant times the

Countesses of the Palatinate, when they were far advanced in that state

which

“Ladies wish to be who love their lords,”

used to remove to this insulated spot of gloom for the purpose of

lying-in; afterwards it was used as a state prison, and a place to watch

the vessels ascending or descending the Rhine, to prevent their eluding

the tolls; it is now disused, but not likely very soon to run to decay

for want of inhabitants. Enthusiastically as I admire the scenery of

this part of the Rhine, I think I never saw a place where man or woman

would less prefer to be _confined_ in, than the Pfalz.

At Kaub, a very ancient but neat town, which stands at the base of a

lofty mountain, in a handsome inn close to the river, we tasted some

delicious wine, the produce of the neighbouring vineyards, for which we

paid about ten pence English the bottle: and we were regaled

_gratuitously_ with some of the finest grapes, which a pretty girl

produced as naturally as pipes and tobacco are introduced in similar

places in Holland. The vineyards of Oberwesel, Kaub, and Bacharach, and

the two hills of Vogtsberg and Kühlberg near the last city, which abound

with blue slate, produce a vine remarkable for its odour and muscadelle

flavour, and form one of the distinguished vine divisions of this

enchanting region.

Upon leaving the Kaub we proceeded through a scene of transcendent

richness and beauty, where

Palmy hilloc, and the flow’ry lap

Of some irriguous valley spread her store,

Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose:

On either side umbrageous grots, and caves

Of cool recess, on which the mantling vine

Lays forth her purple grape.

_Milton’s Paradise Lost._

Our ears were delighted with the solemn choruses of the inhabitants of

the villages returning in large crowded boats from their churches, and

the bells of the convents, while the shores on either side were

enlivened by the peasants in their sabbath dresses going to or returning

from their respective places of worship. At length the hoary battlements

of _Bacharach_ opened upon us; part of this town slopes from the

vine-clad mountain behind it, and the remainder is close to the water.

This town is also very ancient, and as a proof of its antiquity, derives

its name from _Bacchus_, to whom tradition relates an altar was raised

upon a rock in the centre of the Rhine. Indeed we might have supposed

that he had been worshipped here in all the marvellous pomp ascribed to

his original adoration, and that his priestesses, by striking the earth

with their thyrsi, had caused rivers of milk, and honey, and wine to

flow

Et te, Bacche, vocant per carmina, læta, tibique

_Oscilla_ ex altâ suspendunt mollia pinu.

Hinc omnis largo pubescit vinea fætu.

_Virgil, 4 Georg._

This insulated rock was admirably adapted for bearing upon one of its

trees, if ever one grew upon it, those little wooden or earthen images

of Bacchus, which from the smallness of their mouths were called

_Oscilla_, and were considered as so many watch towers, from which the

god might look after the vines, to prevent their receiving injury. I

know of no situation where he could have performed his tutelar duties

better than in this very spot.

The vine here has been long celebrated for its excellence; the Emperor

Venceslas preferred four fuder of this wine (a fuder is equal to three

hundred and sixty gallons) to ten thousand florins offered to him by the

inhabitants of Nuremberg, to redeem their sequestered privileges; and

even Pope Pius the Second imported for his table a fuder of this wine

annually. These are illustrious authorities in favour of the Bacharach

wine, but the best is its flavour.

My laquais, a merry, good humoured fellow, and having no bad ear for

music withal, announced our being opposite to Lorch, the first town

where, in ascending the Rhine, the Rhingau commences, in which district

the finest wines are produced, by singing a national song in honour of

this vine-covered region, in which every person on board joined most

cordially. It was a very long one, but the following stanzas will serve

as a specimen of it.

Bekräntzt mit laub den liebe vollen becher,

Und trinkt ihn frölich leer;

In Ganz Europa ihr herren zecher,

Ist solch, ein wein micht mehr.

Ihn bringt das vaterland aus seiner fulle,

Wie wär er sonst so gut?

Wie wär er sonst so edel, stille,

Und doch voll kraft und muth?

Am Rhein, am Rhein, da wachsen unsre reben:

Gesegnet sey der Rhein!

Da wachsen sie am ufer hin, und geben

Uns diesen labe wein.

So trinkt ihn dann, und lasst uns alle wege

Uns freun, und frölich seyn;

Und wüsten wir, wo jemand traurig läge,

Wir gäben ihm den wein.

With vine-leaves crown the jovial cup,

For, search all Europe round,

You’ll say, as pleas’d you drink it up,

Such wine was never found.

Such wine, &c.

Our _Father’s land_ this vine supplies,

What soil can e’er produce

But this, though warmed with genial skies,

Such mild, such generous juice?

Such mild, &c.

Then shall the Rhine our smiles receive,

For on its banks alone,

Can e’er be found a wine to give

The soul its proper tone.

The soul, &c.

Come put the jovial cup around,

Our joys it will enhance,

If any one is mournful found,

One sip shall make him dance.

One sip, &c.

Every child in this part of Germany knows this song by heart.

Fronting the august ruins of the castle of Sannek, the Rhine presents

the appearance of an ample lake, and the mountains, which hitherto were

numerous and lofty, recede as we approach the pretty village of

Drgeckshausen, a little beyond which the river expands, and forms a

noble curve near Asmanshausen, at the foot of a forest, celebrated for

the convent of Aulenhausen, much frequented by devotees. Asmanshausen is

known for the fine blecker which it produces.

Nearly opposite to Ruppertsberg the navigation of the Rhine becomes very

much impeded, and rendered hazardous by some vast rocks which just raise

their heads above the surface of the water, and which our boatmen

informed us had frequently occasioned the loss of lives. Here the

country again becomes rude and rocky, occasionally covered with forest

oak, and profusely ornamented with dilapidated castles, where the

steel-clad chieftains of other times used to blow their

——war note loud and long,

Till at the high and haughty sound

Rock, wood, and river rang around

_Lay of the last Minstrel._

A visible change in the scenery to which we had been accustomed,

commenced as we approached Bingen: the hills retire farther from the

banks of the river, more modern towns, yet occasionally chequered with

the remains of antiquity, attract the eye, the trees of the forest

succeed to the vines of the mountain, and in the room of stupendous

rocks, rich meadows and corn-fields present their novel charms.

Bingen, which I visited upon my return, stands at the base of a lofty

mountain, on the summit of which the ancient castle of Klopp is erected:

the river Nohe disembogues itself by this city into the Rhine, over

which there is a handsome stone bridge, called Druses, from its having

the reputation of having been constructed by Drusis Germanicus: this

confluence of the two rivers enables Bingen to carry on a considerable

trade in Rhenish wines, grain, and timber.

As the shades of evening descended, we passed Ehrenfels, and a little

before nine arrived at Rüdesheim, where we supped at a very handsome

hotel, and drank copiously of its wine, which is said to be superior to

every other part of the Rhingau. Very early in the morning I visited the

remains of a magnificent castle, which has the appearance of a Roman

origin: this opinion is countenanced by the strong evidences of the same

character which attach to the antiquities to be found in towns within

the Rhingau. The situation of this august ruin, which is close to the

river, is commensurate to its grandeur: the town of Rüdesheim is large,

clean, and cheerful, and has few of those features of awful gloom which

characterise several of the cities on the lower sides of this river,

which here widens to a great breadth, and is dotted over with luxuriant

little islands. Upon quitting this town we were more frequently retarded

than we had been before, by the obstructions which terraces projecting

into the river, and islands, offered to our towing horse, who, with the

driver, was frequently belly deep in the water, which often forced our

boatmen to the tedious application of their poles. The towns of

Geisenheim, St. Bartholomaï, and Winkel, presented the same sprightly

and agreeable aspect as Rüdesheim. I have observed that many towns in

the Rhingau are of Roman derivation, in corroboration of which, many of

their names are unquestionably so: as Winkel from Vinicella; Eltivil,

from Alta Villa; and Lorch, or as the Germans pronounce it, Lorricke,

from Laureacum, &c.

After quitting Rüdesheim, the noble priority of St. Johannesberg,

proudly placed upon the summit of a vast mountain, surrounded with

villages, hamlets, convents, nunneries, and other stately buildings, and

having a back ground of distant hills covered with vines, commanded the

admiration of all on board. This priory was founded in 1102, by Ruthard,

second archbishop of Mayence, and in the devastating war of thirty years

under Gustavus Adolphus, was rased to the ground. The land was

afterwards sold to the abbot of Fuld, who rebuilt it in its present

modern style, and afterwards it was given to the late Prince of Orange

as an indemnity, and now forms a part of the rich territory of the

Prince of Nassau Usingen. In a cave or cellar belonging to the priory,

several thousands of hogsheads of the choicest wines are kept. The red

blecker of Johannesburg is celebrated all over the world, and is the

juice of the vineyard of the priory only; but the finest produce of the

Rhingau is from the grape of Asmanshausen; Ehrenfels, and Rüdesheim, and

particularly of some very small vineyards contiguous to them, called

Rodtland, Hauptberg, and Hinterhausen, which rank the highest; and in

this class also are included the numerous vineyards on the steep hills

of Bingen, on the opposite shore. The second class embraces the vines of

Rothenberg, Geisenheim, and Kapellgarten. The third class includes the

grapes of Johannesberg, and the Fuldische Schlossberg. The fourth, the

vines of Hattenheim, and Marker Brunner. The fifth, those of the

cloister of Eberbach. Sixthly, those of Kitterich and Grafenberg; and

the seventh, those of Rauenthal, and the hills and spots adjacent. All

these classes are included in the district of the Rhingau.

The celebrated hock, is the produce of the vineyards of Hockheim, or

High-home, above Mayence, to the eastward. Of the grape, that called the

Reislinge, the longest known to these regions, ranks the highest; the

Orleans grape, the orange or red Burgundy, and the Lambert, occupy the

next place in the public estimation; and the Muscadelle and Kleimberg,

which are frequently cultivated in private gardens, the third.

We still continued our course on the left bank of the Rhine, and passed

by many beautiful villages, and the handsome towns of Haltenheim,

Erbach, Elfeld, Steinheimerhof, Nieder or Lower Wallauf, where ancient

churches and convents are interspersed amongst many handsome modern

houses. We reached Nieder Wallauf, the last town of the Rhingau to the

east, and afterwards Schierstein, a pretty town where, as our progress

was so frequently delayed by the numerous islands which lie close to the

bank, in company with a very pleasant, intelligent German, I quitted the

boat, and walked to Biberich: the day was remarkably fine, and our road

lay through luxuriant corn and pasture fields, vineyards, orchards,

every where profusely adorned with castles, religious houses,

picturesque cottages, and beautiful chateaus, behind which the vast

forest of Landeswald extends to an immense distance: at length the

numerous spires, and the lofty towers and palaces of Mayence opened upon

us, from the opposite side of the river, and had a very venerable, and

majestic effect.

CHAPTER XXV.

BIBERICH ... CHARLEMAGNE’S PALACE ... BRIDGE OF BOATS ... MAYENCE ...

HORRORS OF WAR ... THE ART OF PRINTING ... THE HOCKHEIM HILLS ...

REMARKS ON OLD HOCK ... THE TOOTH-BRUSH ... FRANCFORT ... SPLENDID TABLE

D’HOTE ... INAUGURATION OF THE PRINCE PRIMATE ... ANECDOTES OF THE

FRENCH ... THE FAIR.

Our entrance into an avenue of nearly a mile and a half in length,

thickly lined with walnut, apple, pear, and plum trees, loaded with

fruit, announced our approach to Biberich, the superb palace of the

Prince of Nassau Usingen. As I made a drawing of this palace and the

adjacent town when I descended the Rhine, and the boat was in a central

part of the river, it will be unnecessary to describe it. I had no time

to view the apartments, but my laquais informed me, that they were

grand, and furnished in a princely manner: the town is modern, small,

and very handsome. As we skirted Ingelheim, we were informed that the

illustrious Charlemagne, the great prototype of Bonaparte, selected this

place for his favourite residence, where he built a magnificent palace,

which was supported by a hundred columns of Italian marble, and had an

immense number of apartments, in which synods and the most important

councils of state were held: that his son Louis le Debonnaire died

broken-hearted here, in consequence of the rebellions of his sons

Lotharius and Louis.

Not a vestige remains of this celebrated pile to prove that it once

existed: but in the life of Louis le Debonnaire, Nigellus thus

consecrates this building:

Est locus ille situs rapidi prope flumina Rheni,

Ornatus variis cultibus et dapibus.

Quo domus alta putet, centum perfixa columnis,

Quo reditus varii tectaque multimoda,

Mille aditus, reditus, millenaque claustra domorum

Acta magistrorum artificumque manu.

No doubt is entertained that that august pile once embellished this

spot. Charlemagne could not have chosen a place more advantageous with

regard to his political relations, or more beautiful in richness and

variety of scenery, where Nature every where saluted him with wine, with

fruit, and every desirable production of a genial soil, fit to make glad

the soul of an emperor.

In less than an hour after quitting Ingelheim we reached Cassel,

immediately opposite Mayence, to which it communicates by an amazing

long bridge, formed of a moveable platform, placed upon fifty-six

lighters, two or three of which draw out at pleasure by means of ropes

and pullies, to open a passage for vessels ascending or descending the

Rhine, and is 3830 feet long; one very similar to this was built by

order of Charlemagne at the same place: here our voyage terminated. On

account of the search of the custom-house officers being very severe on

the French side, the passengers prefer being landed at Cassel: where all

the bustle of a populous city, and a great military station, presented

itself. The bridge was crowded with beautiful and elegantly dressed

women, French officers, soldiers, and various other persons, in

carriages and on foot, going to or returning from Mayence, which, with

its venerable cathedral and splendid buildings, extending themselves

along the river, had a very grand effect. Our luggage was searched by a

German custom-house officer, who behaved very politely; and I proceeded

to a good hotel in Cassel, and sat down with several French officers to

some excellent refreshments.

In my description of the Rhine as I ascended it, I have, from the desire

of not fatiguing my reader, only noticed the principal towns and

objects, some of which I visited then, and others on my return. I felt

myself abundantly rewarded by the unparalleled beauty and grandeur of

those scenes, which so often excited my admiration and amazement, for

any little inconvenience, and perhaps some little hazard, to which I was

occasionally exposed, and I regret that I can only convey a very

imperfect impression of them to those who have never had the good

fortune to form their personal opinion of them.

Having been previously warned not to attempt to enter Mayence, which, as

it is now incorporated with France, I shall call by that name, on

account of the unusual rigour exercised by the police towards strangers,

in consequence of the city being the great military depot of the French

on the Rhine, and the greatest skill of their engineers having been

lavished on its fortifications, I was content to view it from Cassel,

and to receive some little account of it from a very intelligent German,

who had resided there some years, as we looked upon the city from our

hotel window. The electoral palace, of red brick, by the side of which

the Rhine flows, where Bonaparte resided during his stay in Mayence, in

1804, presented a very noble appearance. The dome or cathedral, which

rose with awful dignity before us, is a vast gothic pile, having four

unequal towers: it had once a lofty spire, but a thunder-storm, many

years since, beat it down with lightning, and burnt a considerable part

of the edifice. Few cities have suffered more than this by the ravages

of war; most of its civil and sacred buildings have been at one period

or another damaged or destroyed by cannon, the ruins of which still

remain. My intelligent friend informed me that this city was celebrated

for the great beauty of its female inhabitants, and that before the

French took possession of it the electoral court threw a brilliant

lustre over the place, which was unrivalled by any city on the Rhine for

its gaiety, elegance, and splendor; characteristics which have been

impaired, but far from annihilated. It contains colleges, lyceums, a

theatre, and ball and concert rooms, all of which continue to be well

attended.

Mayence, from its having been always considered as one of the great

bulwarks of Germany, suffered most dreadfully in the last war. In

October, 1792, General Custine compelled it to surrender after a slight

bombardment, and under his administration the majority of the

inhabitants who did not fly entered cordially into the views of the

French revolutionists: he augmented the fortifications of the city, and

placed a strong garrison in the suburbs of Cassel, which has always been

considered as a place of great importance, and raised a number of

redoubts and batteries there. In July, 1793, the Prussians, after

seizing on Costheim, and defeating an army under General Houchard, which

was marching to succour the garrison of Mayence, reduced both that city

and Cassel, the miserable inhabitants of which endured the greatest

horrors, and many of the finest and most venerable buildings of the

former were fired, and nearly destroyed, during the siege. Merlin, who

acted as one of the commissioners to the French army during the siege,

stated to the convention, that such was the scarcity of provisions, _a

pound of horse-flesh had been sold at two, and a dead cat at six

livres_, and that five thousand men had perished in defence of the

place. Although Custine had no choice left but to capitulate, Barrere,

by his report of the siege, led to his being denounced and decapitated.

During this siege the palace of the provosts suffered terribly; the

celebrated electoral palace called La Favorite, and seven churches, were

totally destroyed; and scarce a house escaped without being pierced with

cannon balls. Mutton sold for sixty sols a pound, and beef one hundred

sols; and at last bell-metal and paper money were used: the following

was the superscription of the latter:

“Monnoye de siége.

“10 sols,

“à changer contre billon

“ou monnoye du metal de siége.

(Signed) “REUBELL.

“_Siége de Mayence_, “HOUCHARD.

“Mar. 1793—2de. de la Rep. Fran.”

And, what an epicure will perhaps more regret, the whole vineyard of

Hockheim was destroyed.

The French were highly indignant at the loss of so important a place,

and resolved upon attempting the recovery of it from its victors, as

soon as the mighty objects which claimed on all sides the activity and

energy of their rulers and generals, were accomplished; and accordingly,

in June 1795, the French army again blockaded this devoted city, during

which it sustained a renewal of its suffering, from which it again was

relieved by the successful operations of Mareschal Clairfayt, at the

head of the Austrians against the revolutionary troops, who were

attacked and routed upon the heights of Mornbach, when the Mareschal

appeared before Mayence, attacked and carried the entrenched camp of the

enemy, upon which the skill of their ablest engineers had been exerted

for eleven months to render it invulnerable. General Schaal, who

occupied this strong position, on the retreat of Jourdan, with fifty-two

battalions of infantry and five regiments of cavalry, was obliged to

retire with great loss in cannon, ammunition and men. In this

bombardment some Tyrol sharp-shooters displayed their wonted skill in an

amazing manner, by killing, from the banks of Cassel, several French

officers with their rifle-pieces, who were walking on the ramparts on

the opposite side of the river, the breadth of which I have already

ascertained by the length of the floating bridge. In the beginning of

the year 1797 a better destiny smiled upon the French arms in this

region, and Moreau and Hoche made both sides of the Rhine resound with

their victories, when the troops which garrisoned Mayence, to prevent

the entire and unavailing demolition of the city, relinquished its

possession, and the French remained masters of it.

Volumes have been written upon the superior pretension of Mayence to the

original invention of the art of printing, and to transfer the honours

of the discovery from Lawrence Coster of Haarlem to John Guttenburg, a

citizen of this place. A vast deal of special pleading has been

displayed on both sides; and, to use a jockey phrase, these racers for

the merited gratitude and admiration of all who followed them, reached

the goal almost “neck and neck,” but the majority of judgments given

appropriate the glory to Coster: his mode was the simplest, and

therefore thought to be the earliest; his moulds were made of wood and

immoveable, and he stamped the paper only on one side: Guttenburg

printed on both sides of the leaf with moveable metal types.

The extremity of the bridge towards Cassel, and all the ramparts and

redoubts of the town, which are very strongly fortified, were occupied

by French soldiers. With two German gentlemen and a Dutch officer, I set

off for Francfort, distant eight stunder or hours, or four German miles,

under a scorching sun, which did not seem to have any effect upon a

large party of monks and priests, and followers, bearing the host, who

were walking bare headed in procession to a monastery which we had just

passed, near which I left the carriage to make a sketch of Mayence, upon

a projecting bank of the river Maine, where I bade adieu to the Rhine.

Our road lay through an avenue of walnut, apple, and pear trees, loaded

with fruit, to which passengers helped themselves whenever inclination

disposed them to do so; and part of the Hockheim hills, covered with the

renowned vineyards, which produce what in England is called old hock. As

many a saint, high in superstitious veneration, must have had at least

ten skulls and one hundred toe nails, as if no illusion has been

practised by those who have exhibited them to the credulous in different

eras and various regions, so nothing short of the power of transmuting

water into wine, could produce from these vineyards the immense quantity

of wine which passes under the title of hock. Certain it is, that the

greater quantity of wine honoured with that name, is from the grapes of

both sides of the lower part of the Rhine. In the district where it is

produced, very old genuine Hockheim wine is sold at the rate of three,

and sometimes five, shillings a bottle.

At the first stage we stopped at a village where there is a noble

building upon an eminence, commanding a beautiful prospect, which I at

first took for a palace, but it proved to be a tobacco manufactory,

warehouses, and the residence of the proprietor and his family; the

front is five hundred feet long, and the whole exterior infinitely more

princely than Buckingham-house. After passing this place the road became

level, and the country presented corn-fields, pasture, and orchards in

great abundance. For many miles round, this country had been often the

theatre of hostilities; and though Nature had long since effaced their

melancholy impressions from her fields by reviving verdure, yet

prostrate cottages and battered convents displayed the march and ravages

of the demon War! Happy, thrice happy my own country, where the sound of

cannon is never heard but to announce a victory, or to augment the

gaiety of some festive occasion!

The suburbs of Francfort are very delightful, and after passing over a

draw-bridge, and through a deep, gateway, we entered the city, the

streets of which are crowded and full of gaiety and bustle, in

consequence of the great autumnal fair which was holding there. All the

best inns were brimful, and with great difficulty the Dutch officer and

myself procured a miserable double-bedded room, at an inferior inn,

filled with petty merchants and their families, whom the spirit of

traffic had led to this celebrated mart, and was half choked up with

cases and boxes containing their merchandize. This town swarms with

French soldiers, about thirty of whom slept in rooms adjoining to ours,

where they deported themselves with great order. My companion had just

returned from the Cape, in consequence of its surrender to the British

arms. He spoke with liberal rapture of gallantry of the English troops.

In Germany, as in Holland, time is taken by the forelock, and at six

o’clock the stiefelputzer, or boot-cleaner, knocked at the door,

followed by the chambermaid with a composition of frankincense and other

gums of a pyramidal shape, and about an inch high, much used in Germany,

called a Räucher-kerz, for perfuming rooms, which she placed upon our

candlestick and left smoking. My Dutch companion annoyed me at this

hour, first by begging that I would hear him read one book of Milton’s

Paradise Lost, a little English edition of which he had in his pocket,

which he achieved in an incongruous mêlange of various languages; and

secondly, by begging me to lend him my tooth-brush for a few minutes,

observing, that he preferred an English tooth-brush to any other, and at

the same moment applying it to his teeth with equal alacrity and

gratification. After he had paid such a compliment to English

tooth-brushes, and had done me the honour of using mine, the least I

could do was to beg that he would favour me with keeping it for my sake,

with which he was much pleased, and accordingly introduced it to a party

of combs and razors in his shaving-case. In all other respects he was an

agreeable man, and I am sure a liberal-minded soldier. This city, which

was till lately imperial, is one of the most ancient towns in Germany,

and has several handsome streets and noble buildings: it is particularly

celebrated for the splendor of its hotels, which are reported to be the

most magnificent in Europe, particularly those called the Rothen Haus or

Red House, and the Rörniskchen Kaiser or Roman emperor, where the King

of Prussia lodged when he visited this town; and the Darmstadter Hof, in

which Mareschal Augerau and his suite resided whilst I was at Francfort:

so crowded was the city, that it was with great difficulty and some

interest I procured apartments at the Weiden-hof, or Willow-Court, a

second rate inn, but of great magnitude. Our table d’hote, at which

between two and three hundred persons of respectability sat down every

day, was held in a noble room; it was splendidly served, and an

excellent band seated in an elevated gallery, performed during dinner.

The principal houses are built of red and white stone: the cassino, to

which I was admitted by a card of introduction from one of the principal

bankers, is very elegant. There are also several other clubs and

assembly rooms. The theatre is spacious and very handsome, the

performers were good, and the band is large and select. Opposite to the

theatre is a mall, formed by several rows of trees, which in the evening

is much frequented, where many a lover may exclaim with Moore,

Oh, Rosa! say “good night” once more,

And I’ll repeat it o’er and o’er,

Till the first glance of dawning light

Shall find us saying still “good night.”

Before the Rhenish confederation the town was split into two religious

sects, the Lutherans and Calvinists, which are now blended in perfect

harmony by the liberal influence of toleration. A grand discharge of

cannon one morning announced the ceremony of the members of the senate

and the colleges being about to assemble in the Römer, or town-hall, to

complete the investing the Prince Primate with the sovereignty of the

city, the keys having been delivered up before to the representative of

the prince, under a similar discharge of artillery, agreeable to certain

provisions contained in the act of the Rhenish confederation.

Curiosity induced me to visit the place of this meeting, which is a very

large and ancient gothic pile, situated in a narrow street. In this

building are several chambers, which have been applied to memorable

purposes; one in particular, which before the late revolution in the

German empire, was used by the Electors upon the august occasion of

making choice of a new Emperor: there are some good paintings in some of

these apartments. The ceremony of the installation of the Prince Primate

was over in a very short time; the mob, which was a small one, soon

dispersed; and scarcely any one mentioned the matter three days

afterwards.

The cathedral church of St. Bartholomew, which belongs to the catholics,

is another venerable relic of antiquity: it is reported to have been

built by Pepin, king of France, in 756, enriched by Charlemagne, and

plundered by Lewis of Bavaria, on account of its chapter adhering to the

Pope. Strange to relate, although the coronation of the Emperor used to

take place in it, there is not one object within its walls, either of

sacred splendor, or monumental celebrity, worthy of notice. In the year

1792, when the French entered this city as conquerors, their commanding

officers went with great military pomp to this cathedral; where, being

attended by the senators, the commander in chief closed an address by

exclaiming, “Under the roof of this venerable temple have not many of

you witnessed the coronation of the Emperor of the Romans?” to which no

answer was given. “I demand a reply to my question,” exclaimed the

general with some warmth; “Yes” was faintly answered; “Then,” replied

he, “you will never see him more in this place.” This prophecy issued

from an oracle which possessed the means of consummating its prediction.

I was pleased with the fair, although it fell far short of my

expectation; the principal booths which were erected near the Römer, and

also parallel with the river Maine, formed a very agreeable and

sprightly street, entirely covered with canvass awnings: here all sorts

of goods, the productions of various parts of the globe, were exposed to

sale; and here were also several booksellers’ stalls, where the most

eminent works are sold folded in sheets, for the purchase of lesser

merchants in the trade. No press in the world is so prolific as the

German: the number of ingenious works which it annually yields, amongst

which are many able productions, are astonishing. I was informed that

the fair had wasted almost to nothing, in consequence of the various

injuries it has sustained from the war, and the severe policy of

Bonaparte respecting the introduction of English manufacture, very

little of which was to be found at this mart. In the printers’ stalls,

which used to be well supplied from the English school of engraving,

were very few prints worthy of attention. I saw several execrable

imitations of some from the exquisite pencil of Westall. At the end of

the principal street of the fair, close to the river, were rows of

immense tubs, in which, like Diogenes, many poor German tradesmen and

their families very sagaciously eat and slept, for want of a better

habitation.

CHAPTER XXVI.

BEAUTIFUL VILLAGE OF OFFENBACH ... BRAVERY OF THE HESSIANS ... ANECDOTES

OF MARESCHAL AUGERAU ... EXCURSION TO DARMSTADT ... MINUTE-POSTS ...

DARMSTADT ... LAW’S DELAY IN GERMANY ... AGREEABLE MANNERS OF THE

GERMANS ... NATIONAL ANTIPATHIES ... RETURN TO FRANCFORT ... GLOOMY

APPEARANCE OF THE CONTINENT ... FRENCH ARMY ON ITS MARCH AGAINST THE

PRUSSIANS ... RETURN TO LONDON.

An excursion to the beautiful and elegant little sovereign town of

Offenbach, about five English miles from Francfort, enabled me to admire

the great progress which the Germans have made in the tasteful art of

carriage-building. In a very large depot of carriages there, I saw

several which would have been distinguished for their lightness and

beauty in London. There are several other fabrics, viz. of jewellery,

pocket-books, tobacco, toys, &c. The society of this place, where the

prince who bears its name has a little court, is very refined and

accomplished. The suburbs of Francfort are formed of beautiful and

romantic walks and vineyards, enlivened by handsome country-houses. On

the road near the entrance to the west, adjoining the splendid chateau

of Mr. Beatham, the celebrated banker, at whose town house the present

King of Prussia became enamoured with his Queen, is a monument, composed

of a helmet, a lion’s skin, and emblems of war, in bronze, made out of

the cannon taken by the King of Prussia from the French at Mayence,

mounted upon a stone pedestal, rising from an artificial rock, upon

which are inscriptions commemorative of its having been raised by Prince

Williamstadt to the memory of the gallant Prince of Hesse-Phillipsthal

and three hundred brave Hessians, who perished on this spot, when the

French were obliged to evacuate the town in the year 1792. The French

had taken quiet possession of it a few months before, under the command

of General Neuwinger and Colonel Houchard, when they levied two millions

of florins upon pain of military execution on the opulent classes of the

inhabitants. The most distinguished personage in Francfort was Mareschal

Augerau, whom I frequently met. The heroic valour and skill which he

displayed in the campaigns of Italy, particularly at the battle of

Arcole and before Mantua, and afterwards in Germany, will render his

name illustrious in the military annals of France: he is a highly

polished and accomplished gentleman, and was equally admired and

esteemed by the inhabitants of Francfort; he lived in a style becoming

his dignity, without ostentation, and was upon all occasions very

accessible.

Linglebach, the celebrated painter, was born here in 1625. His subjects

were fairs, mountebanks, sea prospects, naval engagements, and

landscapes, in which he eminently excelled. In company with my two

friends from whom I parted at Rotterdam, and who rejoined me here, I set

off for Darmstadt, about eighteen English miles from Francfort. We

crossed a noble bridge over the Maine, and passed through a

considerable, and fortified town, called Saxenhausen. Our road, which

was sandy, was for a considerable way lined with luxuriant

nursery-grounds and vineyards. About four miles from Francfort we passed

a plain oaken post, about six feet high, upon which, under a painted

star and crown, was written (in German), “Sovereign Territory of the

Prince Primate of the Rhenish confederation.” Upon this road I saw, for

the first time, a great number of little posts, painted white and

numbered; they are called minute-posts, by which the pedestrian

traveller is enabled to ascertain with great exactness the progress he

makes in his journey. A very handsome avenue of stately poplars, of

nearly two English miles, forms the approach to the city, which is

nearly surrounded by a lofty wall, not capable of affording much

protection against an enemy. The suburbs contain some handsome houses,

in which, as the principal hotel in the city was full, we took up our

quarters at the post-house, a very excellent inn.

For a capital, Darmstadt is small, and its palace infinitely too large:

of the latter the Emperor Joseph sarcastically observed, that it was big

enough to accommodate himself and the nine electors. However, very

little of the internal part is finished, and most of the windows are

boarded up. The Grand Duke and his family reside in a part of a new

palace, projecting from the old one, looking towards the gardens. That

immense structure is built in imitation of the Thuilleries, and

surrounded by a broad deep dry ditch. The hereditary Prince, who married

the youngest daughter of the House of Baden, and whose sisters share the

thrones of Russia and Sweden, has a large and handsome house at a little

distance from the old palace; exclusive of this prince, his Royal

Highness the Grand Duke, Louis the Tenth, has several other children. He

is turned of fifty years of age, is an enlightened, brave, and amiable

prince, and a celebrated engineer. He was the last of the German princes

who in the last war sheathed the sword he had drawn against the French;

a power which the preservation of his dignity and his dominion compelled

him to coalesce with. Bonaparte, when he was digesting the Rhenish

Confederation, wished to invest him with the kingly dignity, but the

Grand Duke declined the offer. Darmstadt has produced many valiant and

distinguished officers. At the parade I had the pleasure of seeing

General Von Werner, the governor of the city, who at the head of the

chevaux legers, or light horse, performed prodigies of valour in the

Netherlands in the last war, where in one battle he was surrounded by

seven French chasseurs, from whom he received the most desperate wounds

in various parts of his body before he surrendered. The late General Von

Düring, a name, on account of the heroic courage of the person to whom

it belonged, for ever embalmed in the memory of the English who served

in the last war in the Low Countries, in the years 1793, 4, 5, was born

in this dutchy. The troops were good looking men, and presented a very

soldier-like appearance: the uniform of the officers of the infantry is

a blue coat faced with scarlet, a large cocked hat, richly trimmed with

deep silver lace, and has a very handsome appearance. The dragoons wear

a casket, a light green jacket, and are well mounted. The pay of a

soldier is about the value of twopence a day. Several captains in the

army are princes (princes appanages), or princes of a distant branch,

who have but little property.

The principal object to attract the attention of a traveller is the

Exercierhaus, or house for manœuvering the troops in the winter: it

forms one side of the space of ground allotted for the parade, is three

hundred and fourteen feet long, and one hundred and fifty-two broad, and

has been erected about thirty-five years.

The ceiling of this enormous room is self-supported by a vast and most

ingenious wooden frame-work, without the assistance of either pillar or

arch below. Above this ceiling are a great number of apartments. In a

part of the room below, the artillery of the Grand Duke is deposited,

which is kept in high military order. About four thousand troops can be

manœuvred in this room with ease. The gardens adjoining to the

exercise-house are laid out in the English style, are very spacious, and

would be very beautiful if the ground undulated a little more; much

taste has been displayed in their arrangement, and the house of the

chief gardener is very pretty. These gardens are liberally opened to the

public, form the principal promenade, and were embellished on the day I

visited them with several lovely and elegantly dressed women. In one

part is a neat but simple mausoleum, erected by the order of Frederic

the Great to the memory of one of the landgravines of Darmstadt, a

princess remarkable for the powers of her mind and the beauty of her

person: upon which is the following elegant inscription, composed by

that great Prince:

“Hic jacet Ludovica Henricæ, Landgrafia Hessiæ,

“sexu fœmina, ingenio vir.”

“Here lies Louisa Henrietta, Landgravine of Hesse,

“a woman in form, in mind a man.”

A short distance from the garden is a park in which wild boars are kept

for hunting. The religion of the dutchy is Lutheran. The affairs of the

state are conducted by a court of regency, and other courts, composed of

counsellors and a president, who regulate the military, administer the

laws, digest the finance, and superintend all matters that relate to

religion. Those who complain of “the law’s delay” in England, would be

speedily reconciled to the tardity of its progress were they to commence

a suit in Germany, where it excited considerable surprise that the

procrastination of Mr. Hastings’ trial, which lasted _seven years_ and

_three months_, should have caused any murmurs amongst us, that period

being thought a moderate one by almost every German. Living in this

dutchy is very cheap: a bachelor can keep a horse, dine at the first

table d’hôte, and drink a bottle of wine a day, and mingle in the best

circles, upon one hundred pounds per annum. The society in Darmstadt is

very agreeable. As the minds of the men and women are so highly

cultivated and accomplished in Germany, every party presents some mode

or other, equally delightful and blameless, to make Time smile, and to

strew over his passage with flowers. The country round Darmstadt is very

beautiful, and abounds with corn and various sorts of fruit-trees, which

are frequently unprotected by any fence, and the common path winds

through avenues of them. Amongst other delicious fruit, there is a red

plumb called zwetschen, peculiar to the south of Germany, which grows in

great richness and luxuriance in this dutchy. As a proof of the

profusion in which it grows, in one of my rambles with some friends, I

met a boy laden with a basket full of them, who sold us 130 for some

little pieces, amounting to a penny English; and the little rogue looked

back with an arch smile as we separated, as if he had made a highly

profitable bargain. As I was walking in the principal street with a

friend of mine, I was struck with the following expression: “Look at

that officer; would you believe it that with so fine a person, and a

mind to correspond with it, he has received _two baskets_?” My surprise

at the expression was dissolved by being informed, that when a lady

refuses an offer of love, she sends the luckless lover a little basket

as a token of her disinclination to receive his addresses.

The French interest is powerful in Darmstadt, although amongst all the

princes of the Rhenish confederation, no one has displayed more energy

and spirit than the Grand Duke. A striking instance of this occurred to

one of my companions: in this dutchy, and I believe in other parts of

Germany, there is a law that renders it penal to drive off the road upon

the grass, but the postillion who drove him, having, to spare his

horses, offended against the law, archly turned round to him and said,

“Pray, Sir, in case I should be prosecuted, say you are a Frenchman, and

then they will not make me pay the penalty.”

The antipathy between the natives of Darmstadt and their neighbours of

Hesse Cassel, is as inveterate as that between the English and French.

As I was preparing to set off for Heidelburg, we heard that the troops

of Darmstadt were expected to march at a moment’s notice to seize upon

Hanau, a town belonging to Hesse Cassel, which has afforded frequent

subject of broil between the two countries; but upon inquiry, we were

privately informed, that Bonaparte was expected to call upon the Grand

Duke to march his contingent to the field of battle against the

Prussians, with whom immediate hostilities were thought to be

inevitable. I much regretted that this approaching storm, which began to

spread a deep shade over the political horizon, prevented me from

extending my excursion further into Germany, a country to which Nature

has been very bountiful, where the women unite refined accomplishments

to the charms of person, and where the men are distinguished for their

genius, probity, and indefatigable industry, and both for an unaffected

urbanity of manners.

Upon my return to Francfort, part of the French army rushed in like a

torrent, on its way to give the Prussians battle. It had rained very

hard all the day on which the advance guard entered; but every soldier,

although covered with mud, and wet to the skin, went, or rather danced,

singing merrily all the way, to the house where he was to be quartered.

This city has been dreadfully drained at various times, by the immense

number of French troops which have been billeted upon the inhabitants:

at one time they had fifty thousand to support, and to supply with

various articles of clothing for six months. Every house had a certain

number billeted upon them, according to its size and the opulence of the

family. Upon their march the French are as little encumbered as

possible; in their way they compel the farmer, butcher, baker, &c. to

furnish them with what they want, for which notes are given by the

proper officers, if they have no cash, to the seller, according to the

price agreed upon, which is generally a very fair one, and which the

paymaster in the rear of the army discharges upon coming up.

As the gathering tempest prevented me from penetrating into the south of

Germany beyond Darmstadt, I applied to M. Bacher, the French minister,

for permission to return _pour changer_ to Rotterdam, by the way of

Brussels, Antwerp, &c. but the old, shrewd politician, in a very crabbed

manner refused, and ordered me to keep on the right bank of the Rhine.

Thus was I obliged to retrace my steps; however, it enabled me again to

contemplate the sublime and beautiful scenes of the Rhine, which I did

in a boat, the cabin and roof of which were crammed with passengers to

various cities on different sides of the river: the wind was against us,

but the stream was strong, of which our boatmen availed themselves by

placing the vessel transversely, and, without rowing or towing, in two

days and a half we bade adieu to our voyageurs, a little before we

reached Cologne, where we landed at Duitz, and retrod our steps, which

enabled me here and there to correct errors and supply omissions. At

Wesel we arrived at half past six o’clock in the evening, and found the

gates shut, which compelled us to sleep upon straw at a little inn in

the suburbs. At six the next morning, we beheld a sad massacre

perpetrating by the engineers and soldiers of the garrison, upon all the

trees in the neighbourhood that could conceal or assist an enemy in

approaching the town, and for a similar reason several houses in the

suburbs were marked for destruction. Such is the commencement of the

horrors of war! The Prussians were expected to lay siege to this

strongly fortified town in a few days, which induced the Grand Duke of

Berg, who was in the citadel at the time, to have recourse to these

severe preparations.

After pursuing our route through Amsterdam, where the great fair was

holding, during which the Dutch character became absolutely lively,

through Leyden and Rotterdam, at the last of which we were sadly annoyed

about our necessary passports of departure, which require the signature

of the King’s secretary at the Hague, and the countersign of a Dutch

commissioner, appointed, during my absence, for such purpose at

Rotterdam, in consequence of the French ambassador’s power over such

matters having been withdrawn, we at length, like hunted hares, arrived

at the spot from whence we started, viz. Maesland-sluys, where, after

undergoing the vexation of more forms and ceremonies before our old

friend the commodore, on board of his guard-ship, we embarked in the

identical dismal galliot which brought us to Holland, and after

expecting every moment an order of embargo, we got out to sea, where we

endured no common misery for six days and nights, after which I landed

again upon my beloved native country:

That water-walled bulwark, still secure

And confident from foreign purposes.

_King John_, Act I. Scene 2.

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TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

1. Silently corrected obvious typographical errors and variations in

spelling.

2. Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed.

3. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.