Cologne before six, the starting hour for Aix. Escorted by a young
cicerone, who 'politely volunteered his services,' I went first to
the cathedral, one of the most celebrated on the continent. Five
hundred years have elapsed since this edifice was commenced, and yet
it is scarcely half finished! The choir only is quite completed, and
this is very elaborately decorated within and without. The grass is
actually growing on the towers, which have as yet attained but one
third of their intended elevation, (five hundred feet,) and being
connected with the choir merely by a temporary structure, they look
like ruins of a separate edifice. Yet, even in its present state, the
cathedral of Cologne is a wonderful specimen of human ingenuity and
perseverance. I followed my cicerone to the head of the choir, behind
the great altar, where he pointed to a richly-ornamented monument, as
the tomb of the 'Three Kings of Cologne.' It is to be hoped you are
versed in the veritable history of these same three kings, as well
as that of the eleven thousand virgins before-mentioned, for neither
memory nor time will permit me to edify you in 'legendary lore.'
Mass had already commenced, at this early hour, and the good
people were kneeling reverently on the marble floor, saying their
paternosters and counting their beads, or watching, with humble
simplicity, the movements of the priest before the altar. I observed
one of the boys employed to swing the censers of burning incense,
turn round occasionally, with a piteous yawn. The painted windows in
this cathedral are very elaborate and beautiful. I had time to 'drop
in' to several other churches during matins, where I saw much that
was curious and dazzling, and heard some fine organ-music.
There were twenty-two passengers 'booked' for Aix, and according to
law, they were obliged to send extras for as many as applied before
the hour. This route to Brussels and Ostend is much travelled by the
English, in preference to continuing on the Rhine to Rotterdam.
It was a bright morning again, and the ride proved rather pleasant,
though somewhat monotonous. The country, for several miles out of
Cologne, is nearly level, and almost quite treeless: near the city,
it is laid out in one vast vegetable-garden, without any enclosure,
as is often the case on the continent. Poaching does not seem to be
dreamed of. The fortifications of Cologne, and those of Juliers, our
first stopping-place, are of the most substantial kind. Juliers is
surrounded by three distinct walls, each about twenty feet thick, and
separated by broad deep ditches, or canals. And yet in the present
_refined_ state of the art of war, this fortress is far from being
impregnable.
We arrived at Aix at 3 P. M., and having taken a place for an evening
ride to Liege, and had my passport _vised_ at the Hotel de Ville, the
next thing was to visit the cathedral containing the bones of the
great CHARLEMAGNE. His tomb is under the floor, in the centre of the
church, and is covered by a plain marble slab, on which is inscribed
in _lofty_ simplicity,
'CAROLUS MAGNO.'
After looking at the throne of the 'grand monarque,' and at the
immense windows of the choir, (remarkable for the lightness and
elegance of their frames,) we were conducted by a priest to a
closet, or _sanctum sanctorum_, to see the famous cabinet of
precious relics.[12] I send you a printed account of these veritable
relics, and as to their authenticity, it is to be hoped your bump
of marvelousness is too large to permit you to doubt. Will you not
look upon me with a 'thrilling interest,' when I tell you that I have
seen and touched them with my bodily hands? They gravely tell you
how the 'sacred' articles were obtained, and how they were presented
to Charlemagne by the patriarch of Jerusalem. I doubt not they
really find them _precious_ articles of speculation, and would be
grieved to hear a suspicion of their being genuine. The linens worn
by the virgin when Christ was born, are among those too sacred for
common eyes, and are only shown in seven years, with much 'pomp and
circumstance.'
By the way, I saw also the splendid crown of Isabella of Castile
and Arragon, (the patron of Columbus,) of pure gold, covered with
diamonds. And in London I forgot to tell you of Charlemagne's Bible,
a magnificent folio MSS., on parchment, richly illuminated, etc. It
had intrinsic and unquestioned evidence of being executed for the
emperor by Eginhard, the historian of that period. It was 'bought
in' at auction, for £1500, ($7,500,) but finally sold to the British
Museum. But you must be tired of relics.
* * * * *
LIEGE, SEPTEMBER 16.--Last evening I reconnoitred the town of Aix la
Chapelle, heard two acts of the 'Marriage of Figaro' admirably sung
in the Grecian Opera-House, and then stepped into the 'Schnell-Post.'
On the frontiers of Belgium, about midnight, we were stopped at a
'Bureau de Police,' our luggage was all taken off and searched, and
our passports examined, during which operations we all 'kept our
patience,' save a poor Frenchman, who had to pay duty on a couple of
boxes of cologne, snugly stowed in his trunk. After rewarding the
worthy gentlemen for their politeness, we were suffered to proceed.
Liege, you will recollect, beside being famous in history, was the
scene of the tragedy so vividly pictured in 'Quentin Durward,' the
murder of the bishop by the 'Wild Boar of Ardennes.' The bishop's
palace was a short distance from the town, but no traces of it
remain. His city palace, (noted for its eccentric architecture, each
of the interior pillars being in a different style,) is now used as
a market-house. Liege is built on both sides of the river Meuse. It
is quite a manufacturing place, as well as lively and pleasant, and
seems to be regaining its former importance. The shop-windows present
a really brilliant display of merchandise, of every description.
Two of the modern streets, strange to say, are well paved, and have
sidewalks four feet wide; an unusual phenomenon on the continent.
In the course of my ramble, I dropped into three or four churches,
for the churches in these countries are open at all times; and
they have abundant attraction, at least in painting, sculpture,
architecture, and music; in short, they are museums of the fine arts.
The prevalence of superstition among the good people seems strange in
this 'enlightened age;' and yet on the whole, we cannot wonder at it,
if the proverb be true that 'Ignorance is the mother of Devotion.'
One of the printed notices of holy days, etc., in honor of the virgin
and the saints, commences on this wise: '_Marie le Mère de Dieu, est
dignes de notre homage_,' etc.
* * * * *
NAMUR, 16.--The ride from Liege to this place (forty miles,) along
the banks of the Meuse, was delightful.[13] The scenery, if not
_pittoresque_, in the Frenchman's sense, is at least beautiful. There
was a very perceptible difference in the diligences on leaving
the Prussian dominions; the Belgian vehicle being large, clumsy,
heavy-loaded, and drawn by three miserable, creeping compounds of
skin and bones. On leaving Liege, we passed several close-looking,
high-walled convents and nunneries in the environs. There was
little else to notice during the journey, except the boats on the
Meuse, drawn up by horses; and the cathedral and walls of Huy, the
half-way town. In approaching Namur, the road makes a broad circuit,
and enters the gate on the Brussels side, giving the traveller an
imposing view of the fortifications on the heights overlooking the
town. It was late in the evening, when the diligence set us down
near the Hotel de Hollande, in which I am now snugly disposed of, a
solitary guest.
* * * * *
BRUSSELS, 17TH.--I was on the top of the diligence this morning at
six, for another ride of thirty-six miles to the capital of Belgium,
over the field of Waterloo. The only village on the route worth
mentioning is Genappe. At noon we came in sight of a large mound, in
the form of a pyramid, surmounted by a figure of an animal. It proved
to be the Belgic lion-monument, commemorating the great victory of
the allies. We soon came up to, and passed over the centre of, the
battle-field, our conducteur meanwhile pointing out the various
localities which he doubtless has often had occasion to do before:
'Le Maison ou Napoleon logé.' 'Wellington et Blucher.' A tablet over
the door of the cottage explained: '_La belle Alliance. Recontre
des Generaux Wellington et Blucher dans la bataille memorable de
Juin 18, 1815._' On the right of the road, 'L'armie Prusse;' farther
on, 'L'armie Anglais;' on the left, 'L'armie Française.' We had now
come where the fight raged thickest, at present marked only by the
monuments to the more distinguished victims. The field is smaller
than I supposed. Those great armies must have been necessarily in
close contact. This is the spot, then, where, at the expense of the
lives of twenty thousand men, the mastership not only of France but
of all Europe was decided.
'And here I stand upon the place of skulls,
The grave of France--the deadly Waterloo!'
And here, where on that dreadful night, the groans of the wounded
and dying went up to heaven, calling aloud for retribution on their
ambitious fellow man, who sought, at whatever cost, to
'Get the start of the majestic world,
And bear the palm alone;'
here you now see only the peaceful labors of the peasant women,
planting their flax and potatoes over the graves of the slaughtered,
which scarcely have a 'stone to tell where they lie,' or to remind
you of the stirring scenes of the night when the gayety of the ball
at Brussels was changed to anxious terror, by the cry of 'The foe!
they come!--they come!'
After leaving the field, we passed through the straggling village
of Waterloo, (now the abode of cicerones and speculators in old
swords, muskets, and sundry other relics of the 'grand bataille,'
most of which are doubtless manufactured for the special benefit of
credulous tourists), we entered a thick and beautiful grove, two
or three miles long, and soon came in sight of the capital, which
is nine miles from Waterloo. The general view of Brussels, on this
side, is not more imposing than that of several minor towns; and the
quarter we entered was still less favorable for a 'first impression.'
Instead of the fortified portal, usual in insignificant villages in
Germany, the city is guarded at the 'Porte de Namur' by a wooden
fence, scarcely fit for a cow-pasture. In the 'Rue Haute,' which we
first traversed, the houses are neither high nor handsome; most of
them with gable-ends to the street, in the primitive Dutch style.
But when I arrived at the 'Hotel de Bellevue,' (chosen at random
from the list,) the face of things was changed. This hotel is in a
large and splendid square, next to the king's palace, and the public
buildings, and directly opposite the park, one of the most beautiful
in Europe. The Rues Royale, de Brabant and de Zoi, which enclose
that charming promenade, are decidedly superior to Rivoli, the boast
of Paris. The royal palace and that of the 'prince hereditary,' are
near each other, in a corner of the square; and on the opposite side,
extending the whole length of the park, is the immense palace of the
States' General. These buildings are all of the light cream color, so
prevalent in Paris and Frankfort. The park is adorned with several
fine pieces of sculpture, including a series of the Roman emperors.
The views from the various avenues through the trees are magnificent.
In rambling through the fairy place, I heard, from a building in the
corner,
----'A sound of revelry by night,
For Belgium's capitol had gathered _now_
Her beauty and her chivalry.'
It certainly has gathered a quantity of English visitors, for the
hotels are full of them, and they are now listening to 'music with
_its_ voluptuous swell,' at the opera, where I doubt not
'Soft eyes look love to eyes which speak again,
And all goes merry as a marriage bell.'
* * * * *
18TH.--Just finished lionizing. Firstly, churches; St. Jacques;
Corinthian order; remarkably elegant and tasteful: Notre Dame des
Victoires, Notre Dame de Chapelle, and St. Michael; cathedrals richly
adorned with paintings and sculpture. The towers of St. Michael are
massive and conspicuous objects in the panorama of the city; and the
magnificence of the interior is really astonishing. High mass was
here also in operation in more than usual splendor, but I need not
detail the ceremonies, with which I am free to say I was more amused
than edified. In these cathedrals, as you are aware, there are no
such things as pews, or permanent seats. The multitude are content
to kneel on the cold stone floor, or if perchance a few chairs are
provided, the occupants are often interrupted in their 'Ave Marias'
by a summons for the rent thereof. Much did some of them seem to
marvel that my heretical self touched not the holy water. 'While I
stood wrapped in the wonder of it,' comes up a batallion of about one
hundred young ladies, all dressed alike, in black silk frocks and
straw bonnets, respectable and intelligent-looking girls, probably
belonging to some large Catholic seminary. They were escorted by two
ladies into the choir.
Close by Notre Dame, I passed a grog-shop with this sign, verbatim.
'À LA GRACE DE DIEU:
VALENTINE, MARCHAND D'EPICERIES ET LIQUEURS.'
In all these churches there are little chapels around the walls,
dedicated to the different saints, with contribution-boxes at the
entrance, labelled in French and Dutch, '_Ici on offre à St. Roch,
patron contre maladies contagieuse_.' '_Ici on offre à St. Antoine
patron contre_;' something else, I forget what. '_Ici on offre à
Notre Dame des doleurs aux pieds de la croix_;' and so on.
The next curiosity is the Hotel de Ville, a very large and curious
old building, with a tower after the model of that of Babel. It was
in this edifice that the Emperor Charles V. signed his abdication.
The beautiful palace built for the Prince of Orange, was just
completed and furnished, when the revolution of 1830 broke out.
Leopold, it seems, is too honorable and conscientious to use it, so
that it is kept as a show-place. The interior is superb. It is a
small edifice, comparatively, but a perfect gem of its kind. Visitors
are required to put on cloth slippers, and slide, not walk, over
the floors of polished oak. In some of the rooms, the walls are of
variegated marble; others are covered with the richest satin damask.
There is a fine collection of choice paintings by Rubens, etc., in
this palace. They showed me also, in the stable, the state-carriage
of the Prince of Orange, which he had not time to save when he lost
Belgium.
In the king's palace the furniture is rather plain, and somewhat
the worse for wear. As their majesties are at present 'absent from
home,' I was permitted to invade the sanctity even of the private
apartments. Some of the halls are very large, particularly the 'Salle
à Manger.'
* * * * *
ANTWERP, 18TH.--At two o'clock, or an hour and a half ago, I was in
Brussels, twenty-four miles distant. The flight was not in a balloon,
or in a 'bateau à vapeur,' but in the car of the '_Le Chemin de
Fer_;' for be it known, the yankee notions are spreading so far, that
there are two rail-roads, of twenty-four and sixty miles, actually
in operation on the continent of Europe; and moreover, there are
three or four more contemplated, or commenced, viz: From Frankfort,
first to Ostend, the port of Belgium; second, to Hamburgh; third,
to Berlin; fourth, to Basle, in Switzerland; and from Vienna to
Trieste and Milan. Verily, the tour of Europe will be no such great
affair, 'when such things be.' It will lose all its romance; and the
book-making tourist's 'occupation' will be 'gone' for ever! It's
lucky _I_ came before a 'consummation so devoutly to be wished.'
The low countries are, of course, well adapted for rail-roads and
canals. There is scarcely an elevation of six feet on the whole
course from Brussels to _Anvers_.[14] This rail-road is under
excellent regulations. The train consisted of fifteen cars, part
of which were open; and the fare was only about twenty-five cents.
You may breakfast in Brussels, go to Antwerp to church, and return
to Brussels before dinner, with the greatest ease. I had seen the
opening ceremonies of a Catholic holy-day, at the church of St.
Michael, in the capital, and now I have been to see them finished
in the cathedral of Antwerp. I went into this grand temple just at
sunset, when they were performing Te Deum on the immense organ,
accompanied by a large vocal choir; and nearly thirty persons in
gorgeous robes were officiating around the altar. This is one of the
largest churches in the world. The spire is far-famed for its immense
height and graceful design. Among the gems of art to be seen in the
interior, is the celebrated chêf d'oeuvre of Rubens, the Descent
from the Cross.
I walked out this evening to the _citadelle_ which sustained, under
Gen. CHASSE, the terrible siege of the French, in 1832.[15] It is
a mile in circumference, and is enclosed by five bastions. The
walls and the houses in the vicinity yet bear sad traces of the
bombardment. During the siege, which lasted a month, including ten
days of incessant cannonading, sixty-three thousand cannon balls were
fired by the French into the citadel, and often no less than a dozen
bombs were seen in the air at once. The interior of the fortress, and
several warehouses near by, were reduced to a heap of ruins, before
the resolute Dutch general surrendered. Such an affair is more in
keeping with the days of Louis XIV., than with our own.
The diplomatists have not yet settled matters amicably between
Holland and Belgium. King William and several of the despotic powers
refuse to recognise Belgium's independence, and there is little or no
intercourse between the two countries. Travellers are not permitted
to enter Holland from this side, without special permission from his
Dutch majesty, for a Belgian passport is good for nothing. Leopold,
_le premier_, may thank his stars if he continues secure on the
throne he acquired so easily; for there is apparently much discontent
among the people, especially the trading classes, who feel the loss
of the market for their goods at the Dutch sea-ports. The Antwerpers,
at least, are decidedly inclined towards Holland.
Antwerp, which in the sixteenth century was one of the most
important commercial places in the world, has long been on
the decline. It once contained more than two hundred thousand
inhabitants--now, scarcely sixty thousand; and it is said there are
no less than eight hundred houses at present tenantless. Its docks,
once crowded with vessels, laden with the wealth of the Indies, are
now almost deserted; and the streets are strangely quiet, for a place
even of its present size.
The chief curiosities are the churches, for which Antwerp is
renowned. But I have already inflicted enough of this topic upon
you, and the Antwerp churches are much like those I have written
about, save that they are yet more rich and profuse in their
decorations. Those of St. Jacques, St. Paul, and the Jesuits, are
the principal. Superb altars, and pillars of the finest marble,
statues and paintings, in every variety, are to be seen in them.
In St. Jacques, I stood on the tomb of Rubens, who was a native of
Antwerp, and of a patrician family. Over his monument is a fine
picture, by himself, of his wife and children. In the church-yard of
St. Paul's is a fearfully vivid representation of Mount Calvary, the
crucifixion and entombment of Christ, and of purgatory! While gazing
at the lofty tower of the Cathedral, I was accosted by a cicerone:
'Voulez vous mounter?' 'Combien demandez vous?' 'Deux francs.' 'Trop
beaucoup?' 'Oui, Monsieur; mais tres belle vue; magnifique; vous
pouver voir Bruxelles.' 'Eh bien, je veux mounter.' This is the
way they get one's francs away; for, as the book says, the Belgian
lions must be fed as well as others. The view is certainly very
extensive, though Brussels, I must say, was rather indistinct. But
the Tower of Malines, or Mechlin, (that famous place for lace,) was
very conspicuous, though twelve miles off. The prospects over such
a country as Belgium are more extensive than varied. Antwerp is
situated near the mouth of the Scheld, and the windings of the river
may be seen for several miles toward Ghent and the sea-board. The
tops of the houses in the city are mostly covered with red tiles.
In the tower, I saw a chime of no less than forty-six bells, and
was shown the operation of winding the clock, with a weight of one
thousand pounds attached. The large bell, meanwhile, struck eleven,
and all the rest followed like dutiful children. Somewhat of a sound
they made, sure enough! Chimes originated in this country, and all
the churches have them, playing at concert every half hour. This
tower is ascended by six hundred and twenty-six steps. I went to the
very top, thinking of some one's exclamation at the cathedral of
Cologne, 'What will not man achieve!'
From thence, made a call at Ruben's house, which still remains, and
then looked in at the Museum, where are three hundred 'tableaux,'
comprising eighteen pictures by Rubens, and six by Van Dyck. In the
garden adjoining, is a bronze statue of Mary of Burgundy, on her tomb.
* * * * *
GHENT, (or GAND,) Sept 19.--His majesty of Holland not seeing fit to
admit me into his dominions, from his late rebellious territory of
Belgium, the alternative was to cross over Flanders, by Ghent and
Bruges, to Ostend, and there embark, instead of at Rotterdam, for
London. A ferry-boat took passengers over the Scheld to the 'Tête
de Flandre,' where the diligence was in waiting. We 'niggled' over
a flat, fertile country, at the five-mile pace, seeing nothing very
strange until nine P. M., when we passed through a long village of
one-story houses, rattled over an excellent stone-bridge, and found
ourselves in the worthy old town of Ghent, or rather Gand; but if the
people _are_ ganders, they have shown some wisdom, nevertheless, in
making so many nice, large, open squares, in their respectable city.
* * * * *
OSTEND, 20TH.--This morning was to be my last on the continent. I
rose at six from my last _coucher_, in the fifth story, took my last
breakfast in the _salle à manger_, made my last visit to cathedrals,
paid my bill at the Hotel de Vienne, and took my diligence seat
for the last time. The last trunk was placed on the top, the last
passenger took his place, the three lazy horses were affixed, the
postillion mounted, the diligence rumbled forward, crossed two or
three spacious squares, and as many bridges, (for the river or canals
pass in several places through the town,) entered the great archway
under the ramparts, and proceeded with slow and stately step toward
Bruges. The whole of the road is broad, well paved, lined with rows
of elms and poplars, and for several miles keeps along the banks of
the broad canal connecting Ghent with Bruges; and so level is the
soil, that the towers of Ghent were in full view for six miles.
Bruges, or Brugge, is a beautiful town, replete with reminiscences
of the Counts of Flanders; yet it is far from being what it once
was, in wealth and importance. Like Antwerp, there is an unnatural
stillness in the streets; you would almost think an epidemic had
depopulated them. And yet there are many handsome private dwellings,
and many wealthy people in Bruges. It has also a considerable number
of English residents.
Ostend is dull enough. The harbor is bad, not admitting large
vessels, except at high tide; otherwise, this place would improve
rapidly; for, save Antwerp and Dunkirk, it is the only sea-port of
Belgium. When the rail-road to Brussels is finished, Ostend will
begin to look up. The Belgians have always been a manufacturing
rather than a commercial people; but now they are cut off from
exporting their goods from the ports of Holland, they must
necessarily build up a commerce of their own. They are now engaged in
improving the harbor, etc., of Ostend.