About eleven o'clock, we reached Bingen, a town of which the antiquity
is so clear, that one of its gates is still called Drusithor, or, the
gate of Drusus. Its appearance, however, is neither rendered venerable
by age, or neat by novelty. The present buildings were all raised in
the distress and confusion produced in 1689, after Louis the Fourteenth
had blown up the fortifications, that endured a tedious siege in the
beginning of the century, and had destroyed the city, in which Drusus
is said to have died.
It has now the appearance, which we have often mentioned is
characteristic of most German towns, nearly every house being covered
with symptoms of decay and neglect, and the streets abandoned to a
few idle passengers. Yet Bingen has the advantage of standing at the
conflux of two rivers, the Nahe making there its junction with the
Rhine; and an antient German book mentions it as the central place of
an hundred villages, or chateaux, the inhabitants of which might come
to its market and return between sun-rise and sun-set.
Since the revolution in France, it has occasionally been much the
residence of emigrants; and, in a plain behind the town, which was
pointed out to us, the King of Prussia reviewed their army before the
entrance into France in 1792. A part of his speech was repeated to
us by a gentleman who bore a high commission in it; "Gentlemen, be
tranquil and happy; in a little time I shall conduct you to your homes
and your property."
Our companion, as he remembered the hopes excited by this speech,
was deeply affected; an emigrant officer, of whom, as well as of an
Ex-Nobleman of the same nation, with the latter of whom we parted here,
we must pause to say, that had the old system in France, oppressive as
it was, and injurious as Englishmen were once justly taught to believe
it, been universally administered by men of their mildness, integrity
and benevolence, it could not have been entirely overthrown by all the
theories, or all the eloquence in the world.
Soon after this review, the march commenced; the general effect of
which it is unnecessary to repeat. When the retreat was ordered, the
emigrant army, comprising seventy squadrons of cavalry, was declared by
the King of Prussia to be disbanded, and not any person was allowed
to retain an horse, or arms. No other purchasers were present but
the Prussians, and, in consequence of this order, the finest horses,
many of which had cost forty louis each, were now sold for four or
five, some even for one! It resulted accidentally, no doubt, from this
measure, that the Prussian army was thus reprovided with horses almost
as cheaply as if they had seized them from Dumourier.
Bingen was taken by the French in the latter end of the campaign of
1792, and was then nearly the northernmost of their posts on the Rhine.
It was regained by the Prussians in their advances to Mentz, at the
commencement of the next campaign, and has since occasionally served
them as a depôt of stores.
This town, seated on the low western margin, surrounded with its old
walls, and overtopped by its ruined castle, harmonizes well with the
gloomy grandeur near it; and here the aspect of the country changes
to a character awfully wild. The Rhine, after expanding to a great
breadth, at its conflux with the Nahe, suddenly contracts itself, and
winds with an abrupt and rapid sweep among the dark and tremendous
rocks, that close the perspective. Then, disappearing beyond them, it
leaves the imagination to paint the dangers of its course. Near the
entrance of this close pass, stands the town of Bingen, immediately
opposite to which appear the ruins of the castle of Ehrenfels, on a
cliff highly elevated above the water, broken, craggy and impending,
but with vines crawling in narrow crevices, and other rocks still
aspiring above it. On an island between these shores, is a third ruined
castle, very antient, and of which little more than one tower remains.
This is called Mausthurm, or, The Tower of the Rats, from a marvellous
tradition, that, in the tenth century, an Archbishop Statto was
devoured there by these animals, after many cruelties to the poor, whom
he called Rats, that eat the bread of the rich.