SCENES IN AND AROUND HEIDELBERG.
_Sept. 30._--There is so much to be seen around this beautiful place,
that I scarcely know where to begin a description of it. I have been
wandering among the wild paths that lead up and down the mountain side,
or away into the forests and lonely meadows in the lap of the Odenwald.
My mind is filled with images of the romantic German scenery, whose real
beauty is beginning to displace the imaginary picture which I had
painted with the enthusiastic words of Howitt. I seem to stand now upon
the Kaiser-stuhl, which rises above Heidelberg, with that magnificent
landscape around me, from the Black Forest and Strasburg to Mainz, and
from the Vosges in France to the hills of Spessart in Bavaria. What a
glorious panorama! and not less rich in associations than in its natural
beauty. Below me had moved the barbarian hordes of old, the triumphant
followers of Arminius, and the Cohorts of Rome; and later, full many a
warlike host bearing the banners of the red cross to the Holy
Land,--many a knight returning with his vassals from the field, to lay
at the feet of his lady-love the scarf he had worn in a hundred battles
and claim the reward of his constancy and devotion. But brighter spirits
had also toiled below. That plain had witnessed the presence of Luther,
and a host who strove with him to free the world from the chains of a
corrupt and oppressive religion. There had also trodden the master
spirits of German song--the giant twain, with their scarcely less
harmonious brethren: they, too, had gathered inspiration from those
scenes--more fervent worship of nature and a deeper love for their
beautiful fatherland! Oh! what waves of crime and bloodshed have swept
like the waves of a deluge down the valley of the Rhine! War has laid
his mailed hand on those desolate towers and ruthlessly torn down what
time has spared, yet he could not mar the beauty of the shore, nor could
Time himself hurl down the mountains that guard it. And what if I feel a
new inspiration on beholding the scene? Now that those ages have swept
by, like the red waves of a tide of blood, we see not the darkened
earth, but the golden sands which the flood has left behind. Besides, I
have come from a new world, where the spirit of man is untrammeled by
the mouldering shackles of the past, but in its youthful and joyous
freedom, goes on to make itself a noble memory for the ages that are to
come!
Then there is the Wolfsbrunnen, which one reaches by a beautiful walk up
the bank of the Neckar, to a quiet dell in the side of the mountain.
Through this the roads lead up by rustic mills, always in motion, and
orchards laden with ripening fruit, to the commencement of the forest,
where a quaint stone fountain stands, commemorating the abode of a
sorceress of the olden time, who was torn in pieces by a wolf. There is
a handsome rustic inn here, where every Sunday afternoon a band plays in
the portico, while hundreds of people are scattered around in the cool
shadow of the trees, or feeding the splendid trout in the basin formed
by the little stream. They generally return to the city by another walk
leading along the mountain side, to the eastern terrace of the castle,
where they have fine views of the great Rhine plain, terminated by the
Alsatian hills, stretching along the western horizon like the long
crested swells on the ocean. We can even see these from the windows of
our room on the bank of the Neckar; and I often look with interest on
one sharp peak, for on its side stands the Castle of Trifels, where
Coeur de Lion was imprisoned by the Duke of Austria, and where Blondel,
his faithful minstrel, sang the ballad which discovered the retreat of
the noble captive.
The people of Heidelberg are rich in places of pleasure and amusement.
From the Carl Platz, an open square at the upper end of the city, two
paths lead directly up to the castle. By the first walk we ascend a
flight of steps to the western gate, passing through which, we enter a
delightful garden, between the outer walls of the Castle, and the huge
moat which surrounds it. Great linden, oak and beech trees shadow the
walk, and in secluded nooks, little mountain streams spring from the
side of the wall into stone basins. There is a tower over the moat on
the south side, next the mountain, where the portcullis still hangs with
its sharp teeth as it was last drawn up; on each side stand two grim
knights guarding the entrance. In one of the wooded walks is an old tree
brought from America in the year 1618. It is of the kind called _arbor
vitæ_, and uncommonly tall and slender for one of this species; yet it
does not seem to thrive well in a foreign soil. I noticed that persons
had cut many slips off the lower branches, and I would have been tempted
to do the same myself if there had been any I could reach. In the curve
of the mountain is a handsome pavilion, surrounded with beds of flowers
and fountains; here all classes meet together in the afternoon to sit
with their refreshments in the shade, while frequently a fine band of
music gives them their invariable recreation. All this, with the scenery
around them, leaves nothing unfinished to their present enjoyment. The
Germans enjoy life under all circumstances, and in this way they make
themselves much happier than we, who have far greater means of being so.
At the end of the terrace built for the princess Elizabeth, of England,
is one of the round towers, which was split in twain by the French. Half
has fallen entirely away, and the other semicircular shell which joins
the terrace and part of the Castle buildings, clings firmly together,
although part of its foundation is gone, so that its outer ends actually
hang in the air. Some idea of the strength of the castle may be obtained
when I state that the walls of this tower are twenty-two feet thick, and
that a staircase has been made through them to the top, where one can
sit under the lindens growing upon it, or look down from the end on the
city below with the pleasant consciousness that the great mass upon
which he stands is only prevented from crashing down with him by the
solidity of its masonry. On one side, joining the garden, the statue of
the Archduke Louis, in his breastplate and flowing beard, looks out from
among the ivy.
There is little to be seen about the Castle except the walls themselves.
The guide conducted us through passages, in which were heaped many of
the enormous cannon balls which it had received in sieges, to some
chambers in the foundation. This was the oldest part of the Castle,
built in the thirteenth century. We also visited the chapel, which is in
a tolerable state of preservation. A kind of narrow bridge crosses it,
over which we walked, looking down on the empty pulpit and deserted
shrines. We then went into the cellar to see the celebrated Tun. In a
large vault are kept several enormous hogsheads, one of which is three
hundred years old, but they are nothing in comparison with the tun,
which itself fills a whole vault. It is as high as a common two story
house; on the top is a platform upon which the people used to dance
after it was filled, to which one ascends by two flights of steps. I
forgot exactly how many casks it holds, but I believe eight hundred. It
has been empty for fifty years.
We are very pleasantly situated here. My friends, who arrived a day
before me, hired three rooms (with the assistance of a courier) in a
large house on the banks of the Neckar. We pay for them, with
attendance, thirty florins--about twelve dollars--a month, and Frau Dr.
Grosch, our polite and talkative landlady, gives us a student's
breakfast--coffee and biscuit--for about seven cents apiece. We are
often much amused to hear her endeavors to make us understand. As if to
convey her meaning plainer, she raises both thumbs and forefingers to
her mouth and pulls out the words like a long string; her tongue goes so
fast that it keeps my mind always on a painful stretch to comprehend an
idea here and there. Dr. S----, from whom we take lessons in German, has
kindly consented to our dining with his family for the sake of practice
in speaking. We have taken several long walks with them along the banks
of the Neckar, but I should be puzzled to repeat any of the
conversations that took place. The language, however, is fast growing
more familiar, since _women_ are the principal teachers.
Opposite my window rises the Heiligenberg, on the other side of the
Neckar. The lower part of it is rich with vineyards, and many cottages
stand embosomed in shrubbery among them. Sometimes we see groups of
maidens standing under the grape arbors, and every morning the peasant
women go toiling up the steep paths with baskets on their heads, to
labor among the vines. On the Neckar below us, the fishermen glide about
in their boats, sink their square nets fastened to a long pole, and haul
them up with the glittering fish, of which the stream is full. I often
lean out of the window late at night, when the mountains above are
wrapped in dusky obscurity, and listen to the low, musical ripple of the
river. It tells to my excited fancy a knightly legend of the old German
time. Then comes the bell, rung for closing the inns, breaking the spell
with its deep clang, which vibrates far away on the night air, till it
has roused all the echoes of the Odenwald. I then shut the window, turn
into the narrow box which the Germans call a bed, and in a few minutes
am wandering in America. Half way up the Heiligenberg runs a beautiful
walk, dividing the vineyards from the forest above. This is called the
Philosopher's Way, because it was the favorite ramble of the old
Professors of the University. It can be reached by a toilsome, winding
path among the vines, called the Snake-way, and when one has ascended to
it he is well rewarded by the lovely view. In the evening, when the sun
has got behind the mountain, it is delightful to sit on the stone steps
and watch the golden light creeping up the side of the Kaiser-stuhl,
till at last twilight begins to darken in the valley and a mantle of
mist gathers above the Neckar.
We ascended the mountain a few days ago. There is a path which leads up
through the forest, but we took the shortest way, directly up the side,
though it was at an angle of nearly fifty degrees. It was hard enough
work, scrambling through the thick broom and heather, and over stumps
and stones. In one of the stone-heaps I dislodged a large orange-colored
salamander, seven or eight inches long. They are sometimes found on
these mountains, as well as a very large kind of lizard, called the
_eidechse_, which the Germans say is perfectly harmless, and if one
whistles or plays a pipe, will come and play around him. The view from
the top reminded me of that from Catskill Mountain House, but is on a
smaller scale. The mountains stretch off sideways, confining the view to
but half the horizon, and in the middle of the picture the Hudson is
well represented by the lengthened windings of the "abounding Rhine."
Nestled at the base below us, was the little village of Handschuhheim,
one of the oldest in this part of Germany. The castle of its former
lords has nearly all fallen down, but the massive solidity of the walls
which yet stand, proves its antiquity. A few years ago, a part of the
outer walls which was remarked to have a hollow sound, was taken down,
when there fell from a deep niche built therein, a skeleton, clad in a
suit of the old German armor. We followed a road through the woods to
the peak on which stand the ruins of St. Michael's chapel, which was
built in the tenth century and inhabited for a long time by a sect of
white monks. There is now but a single tower remaining, and all around
is grown over with tall bushes and weeds. It had a wild and romantic
look, and I sat on a rock and sketched at it, till it grew dark, when we
got down the mountain the best way we could.
We lately visited the great University Library. You walk through one
hall after another, filled with books of all kinds, from the monkish
manuscript of the middle ages, to the most elegant print of the present
day. There is something to me more impressive in a library like this
than a solemn Cathedral. I think involuntarily of the hundreds of mighty
spirits who speak from these three hundred thousand volumes--of the
toils and privations with which genius has ever struggled, and of his
glorious reward. As in a church, one feels as it were, the presence of
God; not because the place has been hallowed by his worship, but because
all around stand the inspirations of his spirit, breathed through the
mind of genius, to men. And if the mortal remains of saints and heroes
do not repose within its walls, the great and good of the whole earth
are there, speaking their counsels to the searcher for truth, with
voices whose last reverberation will die away only when the globe falls
into ruin.
A few nights ago there was a wedding of peasants across the river. In
order to celebrate it particularly, the guests went to the house where
it was given, by torchlight. The night was quite dark, and the bright
red torches glowed on the surface of the Neckar, as the two couriers
galloped along the banks to the bridegroom's house. Here, after much
shouting and confusion, the procession was arranged, the two riders
started back again with their torches, and the wagons containing the
guests followed after with their flickering lights glancing on the
water, till they disappeared around the foot of the mountain. The
choosing of Conscripts also took place lately. The law requires one
person out of every hundred to become a soldier, and this, in the city
of Heidelberg, amounts to nearly 150. It was a sad spectacle. The young
men, or rather boys, who were chosen, went about the city with cockades
fastened on their hats, shouting and singing, many of them quite
intoxicated. I could not help pitying them because of the dismal,
mechanical life they are doomed to follow. Many were rough, ignorant
peasants, to whom nearly any kind of life would be agreeable; but there
were some whose countenances spoke otherwise, and I thought
involuntarily, that their drunken gaiety was only affected to conceal
their real feelings with regard to the lot which had fallen upon them.
We are gradually becoming accustomed to the German style of living,
which is very different from our own. Their cookery is new to us, but
is, nevertheless, good. We have every day a different kind of soup, so I
have supposed they keep a regular list of three hundred and sixty-five,
one for every day in the year! Then we have potatoes "done up" in oil
and vinegar, veal flavored with orange peel, barley pudding, and all
sorts of pancakes, boiled artichokes, and always rye bread, in loaves a
yard long! Nevertheless, we thrive on such diet, and I have rarely
enjoyed more sound and refreshing sleep than in their narrow and
coffin-like beds, uncomfortable as they seem. Many of the German customs
are amusing. We never see oxen working here, but always cows, sometimes
a single one in a cart, and sometimes two fastened together by a yoke
across their horns. The women labor constantly in the fields; from our
window we can hear the nut-brown maidens singing their cheerful songs
among the vineyards on the mountain side. Their costume, too, is odd
enough. Below the light-fitting vest they wear such a number of short
skirts, one above another, that it reminds one of an animated hogshead,
with a head and shoulders starting out from the top. I have heard it
gravely asserted that the wealth of a German damsel may be known by
counting the number of her "kirtles." An acquaintance of mine remarked,
that it would be an excellent costume for falling down a precipice!
We have just returned from a second visit to Frankfort, where the great
annual fair filled the streets with noise and bustle. On our way back,
we stopped at the village of Zwingenberg, which lies at the foot of the
Melibochus, for the purpose of visiting some of the scenery of the
Odenwald. Passing the night at the inn there, we slept with one bed
under and two above, and started early in the morning to climb up the
side of the Melibochus. After a long walk through the forests, which
were beginning to change their summer foliage for a brighter garment, we
reached the summit and ascended the stone tower which stands upon it.
This view gives one a better idea of the Odenwald, than that from the
Kaiser-stuhl at Heidelberg. In the soft autumn atmosphere it looked even
more beautiful. After an hour in that heaven of uplifted thought, into
which we step from the mountain-top, our minds went with the path
downward to earth, and we descended the eastern side into the wild
region which contains the _Felsenmeer_, or Sea of Rocks.
We met on the way a student from Fulda--a fine specimen of that
free-spirited class, and a man whose smothered aspiration was betrayed
in the flashing of his eye, as he spoke of the present painful and
oppressed condition of Germany. We talked so busily together that
without noticing the path, which had been bringing us on, up hill and
down, through forest and over rock, we came at last to a halt in a
valley among the mountains. Making inquiries there, we found we had gone
wrong, and must ascend by a different path the mountain we had just come
down. Near the summit of this, in a wild pine wood, was the
Felsenmeer--a great collection of rocks heaped together like pebbles on
the sea shore, and worn and rounded as if by the action of water: so
much do they resemble waves, that one standing at the bottom and looking
up, cannot resist the idea, that they will flow down upon him. It must
have been a mighty tide whose receding waves left these masses piled up
together! The same formation continues at intervals, to the foot, of the
mountains. It reminded me of a _glacier_ of rocks instead of ice. A
little higher up, lies a massive block of granite called the "Giant's
Column." It is thirty-two feet long and three to four feet in diameter,
and still bears the mark of the chisel. When or by whom it was made,
remains a mystery. Some have supposed it was intended to be erected for
the worship of the Sun, by the wild Teutonic tribes who inhabited this
forest; it is more probably the work of the Romans. A project was once
started, to erect it as a monument on the battle-field of Leipsic, but
it was found too difficult to carry into execution.
After dining at the little village of Reichelsdorf in the valley below,
where the merry landlord charged my friend two kreutzers less than
myself because he was not so tall, we visited the Castle of Schönberg,
and joined the Bergstrasse again. We walked the rest of the way here;
long before we arrived, the moon shone down on us over the mountains,
and when we turned around the foot of the Heiligenberg, the mist
descending in the valley of the Neckar, rested like a light cloud on the
church spires.