streams. The Rhine is the outlet of Lake Constance, and rushes out of
that inland sea a great river ready-made, and begins with a magnificent
waterfall second only to Niagara. It is a wide, deep river, and as
soon as it emerges from the Swiss mountains becomes the great highway
through Germany and Holland to the ocean. Along its banks are timber,
coal and iron, great cities with factories, and fertile lands tilled
to the utmost point. The freight rate is the lowest possible, and the
productive value of the country is increased by the ease and cheapness
with which the markets of the world are reached. Steamboats and barges
go up and down in much greater numbers than do the freight trains of
America’s greatest railroad. For much of its length the banks are
walled, and the cities, towns and villages are almost continuous. In
width the river is from 500 to 1500 feet, and it is about 550 miles
long. The last 360 miles, from Manheim to the German ocean, has a
channel of not less than thirty feet in depth, and in that 360 miles
the fall is only 280 feet, the last hundred miles only 33 feet.
* * * * *
So much for the Rhine from a business viewpoint. This little town
of Koenigswinter is on “the picturesque Rhine,” at the foot of the
Drachenfels, the last of the big hills or mountains by which the Rhine
flows in its course from Manheim to Cologne. We stopped at the little
city of Bonn, seat of a good university, and an old town. Beethoven
was born in Bonn, and we visited the little house he selected for that
event in his life. It was most interesting to see the things used by
the great composer, among them the original drafts of many of his great
works. Beethoven’s folks were poor, and when only a boy he played the
pipe organ at the church and was in the Bonn string band. When 22 years
of age he went to Vienna, where he was taken care of financially by the
Austrian emperor. He never married. He and a countess fell in love with
each other, but her folks did not approve of her marrying a musician.
Beethoven’s father sang tenor and his grandfather had led the Bonn
brass band, and Beethoven himself was giving lessons. So they could not
marry, though I don’t see why the countess did not arrange it later
when Beethoven became famous. But he was very deaf and probably very
cranky, for he was a great musician, and perhaps the Lady Amelia backed
out herself.
* * * * *
This is what is called the picturesque Rhine, for here the river runs
through some German mountains, which rise almost abruptly from the
banks. The mountain-sides are cultivated as we do first-bottom land.
The principal product is the grape, which gets just the proper sunlight
on these mountain-sides to make its juice command more money than the
wine from the back country. There are also many truck farms, small
pastures, patches of alfalfa and wheat, all tilted up from the river
at an angle of 45 to 90 degrees. The roads are good and white, the
fields just now are green, the sky is a blue like the sky in Italy and
Kansas. The little towns with their white-washed houses and red-tiled
roofs cluster every mile or so along the river, and the view from the
mountains or from the river is one that makes the tickle come around
the heart. In this beautiful spot where nature and man have both been
busy for so many hundred years we are spending a few days for rest.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE POET BYRON BUILDING CASTLES]
Of course I climbed the Drachenfels, the mountain which looms up like a
sentinel and has on its top a ruined castle with a view and a legend.
Byron told of the great view, and every tourist who stops has to climb
the mountain. So we climbed. Mr. Byron was right this time, for the
view is grand. Ordinarily I take little stock in Byron’s fits over
scenery. He traveled through Europe and had thrills over some very
ordinary things. Byron could take a few drinks and then reel off some
verses which gave an old ruin or a tumble-down castle a reputation
which it will use forever as a bait for tourists. But this time Byron
was right, for the panorama of the Rhine valley, made up of the river,
the hills, the sky, the shades of growing green, the white-and-red
towns, and the boats as noiseless as birds, is one worth more than the
twenty-five American cents it takes to make the climb on a cog-wheel
railroad.
* * * * *
The ruined castle, which stands about 1,000 feet above the Rhine and
yet so near it seems that one could throw a stone from the parapet
into the river, was occupied by a line of the fiercest gentlemen that
ever robbed an innocent traveler. For several hundred years no one was
safe to go this way unless he paid the robber barons, who had a sort
of confederacy or union, in which the Count of Drachenfels was one of
the main guys. The name means the dragon’s rock, and comes from the
fact that a Dragon once resided in a cave near the top. The legend says
that it was customary among the old heathen to feed prisoners to the
Dragon, so he would look pleasant and not roar at night. Returning from
a trip into the west they brought a number of captives, among them a
beautiful Christian maiden. The heathen young men all wanted the girl,
so the wise chief decided that she should be given to the Dragon, thus
preventing a scrap among the brethren and paying special tribute to the
Drag. They formed a procession and marched to the big rock where they
were accustomed to lay out provisions for his nibs. The beautiful girl
was bound hand and foot, covered with flowers, and then the crowd got
back to see the Dragon do the rest. The Dragon came out roaring like a
stuck pig, but when the girl held out a crucifix toward him he bolted,
ran and jumped from the rock into the river. The best-looking young man
among the heathen then rushed forward and released the lady, married
her, and they lived happily ever afterward,--so the legend says. And
there is no reason to doubt the legend, for there is the rock, there is
the river into which the Dragon leaped, and he never did come back.
Along the Rhine
KOENIGSWINTER, August 8.
Next to riding on a Dutch canal comes a trip on the Rhine. The
passenger steamers and motor-boats go up and down this part of the
Rhine like street cars. Every boat is comfortably equipped with
refreshment parlors and restaurants, and the waiters keep trying
to please the thirsty traveler by offering him wine and beer. It
is hard on a Kansan. What these Germans need is a governor and an
attorney-general and a row over the joint question. Poor Germans! they
do not know it, and they keep right on drinking beer and growing fat
and looking happy. Aside from this unfortunate habit, which does not
seem to hurt them as it ought to, the Germans are a fine lot of folks.
They are immensely proud of their country, which is a trifle hard on us
modest Americans. They really believe Germany can lick the world, and
they have a notion that there is no nation so progressive as theirs.
In some respects they are right, and in many phases of business and
scientific advancement the Germans lead the world.
I am inclined to attribute this to their public-school system, which
is superior to ours in some respects. Without going into an extended
argument on the subject, I will explain my reason for this opinion.
The German system of education is very rigid for the boys and girls.
The discipline in the common schools is military. The children go to
school more months in the year and they are compelled to learn. There
is no foolishness, no excuses from fond parents, no late parties, no
indifference, no any-thing-to-get-through. The German teachers are not
content with getting the children to pass, but they insist they shall
_know_ their studies. This severe training is kept up until the boy
or girl goes to the university, and then discipline is relaxed and
he or she can do about as they please so far as personal conduct is
concerned. In America the parents and the government let the little
folks do as they please outside of short school hours, and then tighten
up the in high school and university. Our scheme doesn’t work well.
Our grade schools turn out indifferent scholars and boys and girls
who have not been trained to study. Our course of study is fixed to
make it easy, when every one knows that hard work is needed to develop
character. If the Germans go ahead of the Americans in the next
generation it will be because their school system is better than ours,
because it trains the children better for the work to come. The Germans
think just as much of their children as do the Americans of theirs,
but they do not spoil them,--which is a great American fault and which
counts against the children ever afterward.
* * * * *
We rode on the boat to Godesberg, and Rolandseck and Heisterbach,
and Johannisberg, and Niersteiner, and all the other places which
are recorded on the wine-card at a Kansas City hotel. The very names
are enough to make a Kansas man file an information with the county
attorney. Each town has its brand of wine, its old castles, its
flourishing business, its comfortable hotels, and its legends of olden
times. Most of the legends tell of the triumph of True Love, but here
is an exception:
* * * * *
An old knight whose castle at Schoenberg was an important place in the
feudal system of tax collection, had seven beautiful daughters. He
died; these seven girls ruled in the castle, and all they cared for
was a good time. They went hunting, gave late supper parties, and were
much talked about; but their beauty and the castle of their inheritance
kept them popular with the men. Many knights asked them to marry,
but each and every suitor was given the merry ha-ha by the maiden he
sought. Knights even fought and killed each other, disputing as to the
merits of the sisters, and the ladies made such funerals the scenes of
great enjoyment. Finally the knights had a mass meeting, and resolved
that the seven sisters be required to select husbands. When this news
was conveyed to the sisters they said this was just what they wanted.
They proposed that they would give a picnic, to which all the would-be
husbands should be invited, and after lunch they would announce the
knights of their choice. The picnic day came, and it rained in the
morning as it always does on picnic days. The knights came with their
swords and their lunch-baskets and stood around throwing balls for the
cigars and shaking for the lemonade, until the skies cleared and it
was announced that the seven sisters would be in at once or as soon as
they had finished dressing. Then came another hour’s wait. Suddenly a
boat appeared around the bend, and in it were the Seven, all decked out
with big hats and rhinestone buckles. The eldest sister stood up in the
boat, screaming as it rocked, and said: “We don’t care to marry any of
you country jakes. We are going to Cologne to visit a cousin, and there
we propose to have a good time without being obliged to throw down some
knight who wants a bride and a meal ticket every so often.” The other
sisters joined in singing the old-time version of “Goodby, my lover,
goodby,” and the boat sailed for Cologne. The knights cussed, and laid
the blame onto each other; but suddenly a storm arose, and the boat
began to bob around in the waves. The seven sisters screamed, but it
did them no good. The boat upset, and all on board were drowned.
This legend teaches flirtatious young ladies not to trifle with the
home boys.
On the spot where the boat went under, seven pointed rocks appear above
the surface of the water even up to today. I saw them, and I guess that
proves the legend.
* * * * *
I have always believed that Kansas people make a mistake in neglecting
the legend crop. For example, a good legend about Elmdale Park in
Hutchinson would cause thousands of people to visit it and pay 10 cents
apiece, besides buying post-cards and printed copies of the beautiful
story, which might go something like this:
Once upon a time there lived in the First Ward a man and his wife who
had an only daughter. They were the only father and mother she had,
so honors were about even on that point. They loved this Daughter so
much that when she grew up she was not taught to sew or to cook, but
to play the piano and to sing “Love Me and the World is Mine.” She was
very beautiful as she sat on the front porch reading the latest novel,
“The Soul of My Soul,” while her mother fried the beefsteak for supper.
Suitors came from far and near, one of them a brakeman on the Missouri
Pacific, and another an assistant chief clerk in a hash foundry. But
her choice fell upon a handsome young knight she met at Elmdale Park,
who wore an open-faced vest and a Brazilian diamond on his shirt front,
but who had quit school in order to go to work and then forgot about
it. He saw the clean home and he smelled the fried steak and thought
the young lady did it all, when in fact the young lady could not boil
an egg. They were married, and he at once came to live with his wife’s
folks. The old Father developed an unexpected trait, and insisted
that the Bridegroom should pay board, which he proudly refused to do,
took his bride and went to Wichita. There he was offered a position
as chamber-maid in a livery stable and the Girl found it necessary at
odd times to do the laundry work for a small boarding-house. Thus they
lived for nearly two years, when she borrowed a postage stamp and wrote
home: “I have a Divorce and two children.” The father and mother
promptly sent her enough money to pay her fare, and she returned to
the castle of her childhood. But she had learned a lesson. The next
time she got married she did not pick up a friend in Elmdale Park, but
made him show her his bank book and his receipt for dues in the Modern
Woodmen. At the place in Elmdale Park where she met her first soul-mate
she planted a cottonwood tree, which is there yet, and under its shade
lovers now meet, remember this legend and buy post-cards which tell the
story.
[Illustration: THE HANDSOME KNIGHT SHE MET IN ELMDALE PARK]
In German Towns
COLOGNE, GERMANY, August 9.
This is the big town of the lower Rhine country in Germany, though it
has rivals which may sometime take the title away. It is also the old
town, and there have been many hot times in its history. It was started
in the first century of the Christian era as a colony by Aggripina,
the mother of Nero, and a lot of Roman soldiers were given extra
rights for settling in the new town. A couple of hundred years later
a bridge was built across the Rhine, and Cologne became of commercial
importance. When Christianity was extended to this section it was made
the seat of a bishop and then of an archbishop. It grew rapidly and
was independent in its tendencies, so when the break-up came of the
old Roman empire it became a free city, and with some bossing by the
archbishop the people ruled, that is, the wealthier and more important,
a sort of aristocracy. Napoleon annexed Cologne to France, but when he
was overthrown the city was handed over to the king of Prussia, and
it has been Prussian ever since. In the last hundred years Cologne has
developed as the great jobbing and commercial city of this section. It
is full of quaint old houses, narrow streets, medieval architecture,
and has the best cathedral in Europe. Dutch and German cathedrals are
generally Protestant, but the Cologne cathedral is Catholic. When
the Reformation came the Lutherans especially enjoyed capturing a
cathedral, tearing down the images and statues, destroying all the
artistic beauty they could, and making the house of God as plain and
uncomfortable as possible. On the other hand, the Catholics believed in
beautifying and adorning their churches. The present-day Protestants
doubtless wish their predecessors had been less zealous and that the
beautiful decorations and paintings had not been defaced by whitewash.
The Cologne cathedral is the finest specimen of Gothic architecture in
the world. Of course it is in the shape of a cross, and is 157 yards
long, 94 yards wide, 201 feet to the roof, 357 feet to the tower over
the center, and the towers are 515 feet high. These figures give no
idea of the impressive and imposing interior; and the exterior, which
is a profusion of turrets, gargoyles, cornices, galleries and other
decorations, makes the visitor catch his breath as he looks at this
great structure. The foundation of this cathedral was laid in 1248 and
the work was completed thirty years ago; so there was no rush about the
job.
* * * * *
Twenty-five miles below Cologne is Düsseldorf, also on the Rhine,
and the place where the iron and coal development of Germany seeks
its market. You know what iron and coal did for Pittsburg, and it is
the same with Düsseldorf. It is the growing city of the section, and
threatens to pass Cologne. As Düsseldorf is largely modern, having
developed since the days of railroads and steel bridges, it has wide
streets, beautiful buildings, and its architecture is of the present
generation. Düsseldorf is noted for its municipal ownership, and is
often called a model city. The town owns the street cars, the light
system, the docks on the river, the water plant, a pawn-shop and a lot
of other things, including a couple of breweries. Municipal ownership
comes easier in the Old World than in the New. It was formerly the
custom of the government to own everything, and to lay out parks
and provide utilities for the people, who were then too poor to do
much themselves. So the modern European government, which is largely
popular, succeeds to the power of the ancient monarchical rule, and
provides the big things for the people. A strong-handed ruler who
can condemn private property, and wisely put the good of the entire
community above the property and welfare of individuals, does these
public works much better than our own municipal governments, which have
restricted powers and which have to do what the people want rather than
tell the people what they ought to do. Generally speaking the public
ownership of utilities is a good thing, provided the government has
the power and the integrity to do the business right. Düsseldorf has a
mayor and twelve salaried aldermen, a common council of 56 members, and
over 5,000 city employés.
* * * * *
One great difference between Germans and Americans is the regard in
which they hold the law. Unfortunately, our new civilization has
brought about a general feeling that the law is meant for the other
fellows and we obey it if we have to. For that reason it is easier
for a German municipality to manage business than it is for an
American--and especially for a Kansan. Imagine what would happen in
Hutchinson if the city owned a couple of breweries like the city of
Düsseldorf. The next spring election the candidates would be running on
the beer issue, and there would be all kinds of opinions. In Düsseldorf
they hire expert brewers, sell the product, and the city takes a good
profit. In Hutchinson the First Ward would be kicking because they
didn’t like the head brewer, the Sixth Ward would demand a reduction
in the price of beer, and the Third Ward would make the candidates
pledge themselves to another beer garden in the south part of town,
where it would be poor business. The final result would be that Mayor
Vincent and Dr. Winans and the rest of the commission would be charged
with favoritism and defeated for reëlection, and their successors
would make beer at a loss and nobody would be satisfied. The curse of
American municipal affairs is this playing of politics with every petty
question. The Germans take the wiser method of cutting out politics,
selecting their best men for public office, giving great respect to
them personally, and accepting the laws they enact. When the mayor of
Düsseldorf comes out for a walk everybody he meets takes off his hat
and salutes. In our country everybody the mayor meets has a kick about
something, and as for taking off his hat to the mayor--the American
citizen would see him in Halifax first.
* * * * *
A Kansas man, Clarence Price, of Pittsburg, stirred up all kinds of
trouble in the German empire recently. Price has a moving-picture show,
travel scenes and such, and is in Europe to get some of the best and
see the local color. He thought it would be a fine thing to compliment
the German army with a picture; so he had his machine at one of the
forts of Berlin taking views of the drill of an artillery squad. The
police saw him, and he nearly spent the night in the Hotel de Jail. It
was all the American Consul and the Associated Press could do to save
him, for the police believed he was a French spy, and as they could
not understand the Pittsburg language and Price could not talk their
German, it was only with difficulty that he got word to his friends and
was finally released. A German jail is not fitted up for pleasure and
comfort, but to make people sorry they get there, and as the picture
machine had been confiscated there was not even the consolation for
the Kansas showman of being able to present to the American public the
sight of German justice administered on the spot.
* * * * *
Everywhere in Germany the load the people are carrying is militarism.
The young men of the country lose several of the best years of their
life in their army service, and heavy taxes burden business and
industry. The people are patriotic, and this army is necessary, for
there is always the prospect of a war, and of course they want to lick
the other fellow. But the newspapers are praising Taft and urging that
arbitration and disarmament are practicable if the course marked out by
the United States is followed. It makes an American really proud of his
country and his President when he hears the praise that is everywhere
bestowed on both for taking the lead in the most important movement
of the times. There has been a marked change in sentiment toward
Americans among the educated and upper classes the last few years.
The poor people always were strong for us. But the business men and
the newspapers, as well as the brass collars, sneered at Americans as
mere money-makers. McKinley brought the change when the United States
jumped into a war with Spain to help Cuba. Dewey at Manila pounded
it into their heads with language the Europeans could understand.
Roosevelt’s dashing policies and his stand for peace between Japan and
Russia impressed them wonderfully. And now Taft’s policy of arbitration
instead of war is receiving the commendation of uppers and lowers,
and they recognize the statesmanship in the treaties. To use one of
Roosevelt’s favorite words, it is bully to be an American and travel
in Europe, just to see how much better it is at home and to feel the
respect paid to our great nation and its leaders.
Arriving in Paris
PARIS, August 11.