BONN.

After a stay of nearly three tedious days, we left Cologne for Bonn,

passing through an avenue of limes, which extends from one place

to the other, without interruption, except where there is a small

half way village. The distance is not less than eighteen miles, and

the diversified culture of the plains, through which it passes, is

unusually grateful to the eye, after the dirty buildings of Cologne

and the long uniformity of corn lands in the approach to it. Vines

cover a great part of these plains, and are here first seen in

Germany, except, indeed, within the walls of Cologne itself, which

contain many large inclosures, converted from gardens and orchards

into well sheltered vineyards. The vines reminded us of English hop

plants, being set, like them, in rows, and led round poles to various

heights, though all less than that of hops. Corn, fruit or herbs were

frequently growing between the rows, whose light green foliage mingled

beautifully with yellow wheat and larger patches of garden plantations,

that spread, without any inclosures, to the sweeping Rhine, on the

left. Beyond, appeared the blue ridges of Westphalian mountains. On the

right, the plains extend to a chain of lower and less distant hills,

whose skirts are covered with vines and summits darkened with thick

woods.

The Elector's palace of Bruhl is on the right hand of the road, at

no great distance, but we were not told, till afterwards, of the

magnificent architecture and furniture, which ought to have attracted

our curiosity.

On a green and circular hill, near the Rhine, stands the Benedictine

abbey of Siegbourg, one of the first picturesque objects of the rich

approach to Bonn; and, further on, the castle-like towers of a convent

of noble ladies; both societies celebrated for their wealth and the

pleasantness of their situations, which command extensive prospects

over the country, on each side of the river. As we drew near Bonn, we

frequently caught, between the trees of the avenue, imperfect, but

awakening glimpses of the pointed mountains beyond; contrasted with

the solemn grandeur of which was the beauty of a round woody hill,

apparently separated from them only by the Rhine and crowned with the

spire of a comely convent. Bonn, with tall slender steeples and the

trees of its ramparts, thus backed by sublime mountains, looks well,

as you approach it from Cologne, though neither its noble palace, nor

the Rhine, which washes its walls, are seen from hence. We were asked

our names at the gate, but had no trouble about passports, or baggage.

A long and narrow street leads from thence to the market-place, not

disgusting you either with the gloom, or the dirt of Cologne, though

mean houses are abundantly intermixed with the others, and the best are

far from admirable. The _physiognomy of the place_, if one may use the

expression, is wholesome, though humble. By the recommendation of a

Dutch merchant, we went to an inn in another street, branching from the

market-place; and found it the cleanest, since we had left Holland.

Bonn may be called the political capital of the country, the Elector's

Court being held only there; and, what would not be expected, this has

importance enough to command the residence of an agent from almost

every Power in Europe. The present Elector being the uncle of the

Emperor, this attention is, perhaps, partly paid, with the view, that

it may be felt at the Court of Vienna. Even Russia is not unrepresented

in this miniature State.

The Elector's palace is, in point of grandeur, much better fitted to

be the scene of diplomatic ceremonies, than those of many greater

Sovereigns; and it is fitted also for better than diplomatic purposes,

being placed before some of the most striking of nature's features,

of which it is nearly as worthy an ornament as art can make. It is

seated on the western bank of the Rhine, the general course of which it

fronts, though it forms a considerable angle with the part immediately

nearest. The first emotion, on perceiving it, being that of admiration,

at its vastness, the wonder is, of course, equal, with which you

discover, that it is only part of a greater design. It consists of a

centre and an eastern wing, which are completed, and of a western wing,

of which not half is yet raised. The extent from east to west is so

great, that, if we had enquired the measurement, we should have been

but little assisted in giving an idea of the spectacle, exhibited by so

immense a building.

It is of stone, of an architecture, perhaps, not adequate to the

grandeur of its extent, but which fills no part with unsuitable, or

inelegant ornaments. Along the whole garden front, which is the chief,

a broad terrace supports a promenade and an orangery of noble trees,

occasionally refreshed by fountains, that, ornamented with statues,

rise from marble basons. An arcade through the centre of the palace

leads to this terrace, from whence the prospect is strikingly beautiful

and sublime. The eye passes over the green lawn of the garden and a

tract of level country to the groupe, called the Seven Mountains,

broken, rocky and abrupt towards their summits, yet sweeping finely

near their bases, and uniting with the plains by long and gradual

descents, that spread round many miles. The nearest is about a league

and a half off. We saw them under the cloudless sky of June, invested

with the mistiness of heat, which softening their rocky points, and

half veiling their recesses, left much for the imagination to supply,

and gave them an aërial appearance, a faint tint of silvery grey, that

was inexpressibly interesting. The Rhine, that winds at their feet, was

concealed from us by the garden groves, but from the upper windows of

the palace it is seen in all its majesty.

On the right from this terrace, the smaller palace of Poppelsdorff

terminates a long avenue of limes and chesnut trees, that communicates

with both buildings, and above are the hill and the convent _Sanctæ

Crucis_, the latter looking out from among firs and shrubby steeps.

From thence the western horizon is bounded by a range of hills, clothed

to their summits with wood. The plain, that extends between these and

the Rhine, is cultivated with vines and corn, and the middle distance

is marked by a pyramidal mountain, darkened by wood and crowned with

the tower and walls of a ruined castle.

The gardens of the palace are formally laid out in straight walks and

alleys of cut trees; but the spacious lawn between these gives fine

effect to the perspective of the distant mountains; and the bowery

walks, while they afford refreshing shelter from a summer sun, allow

partial views of the palace and the romantic landscape.

It was the Elector Joseph Clement, the same who repaired the city, left

in a ruinous state by the siege of 1703, under the Duke of Marlborough,

that built this magnificent residence. There are in it many suites

of state rooms and every sort of apartment usual in the mansions of

Sovereigns; saloons of audience and ceremony, a library, a cabinet

of natural history and a theatre. Though these are readily opened to

strangers, we are to confess, that we did not see them, being prevented

by the attentions of those, whose civilities gave them a right to

command us, while their situations enabled them to point out the best

occupation of our time. The hall of the Grand Master of the Teutonic

Order, ornamented with portraits of all the grand masters, we are,

however, sorry to have neglected even for the delights of Poppelsdorff,

which we were presently shewn.

Leaving the palace, we passed through the garden, on the right, to a

fine avenue of turf, nearly a mile long, bordered by alleys of tall

trees, and so wide, that the late Elector had designed to form a

canal in the middle of it, for an opportunity of passing between

his palaces, by land, or water, as he might wish. The palace of

Poppelsdorff terminates the perspective of this avenue. It is a small

building, surrounded by its gardens, in a taste not very good, and

remarkable chiefly for the pleasantness of its situation. An arcade,

encompassing a court in the interior, communicates with all the

apartments on the ground floor, which is the principal, and with the

gardens, on the eastern side of the chateau. The entrance is through a

small hall, decorated with the ensigns of hunting, and round nearly the

whole arcade stags' heads are placed, at equal distances. These have

remained here, since the reign of Clement Augustus, the founder of the

palace, who died in 1761; and they exhibit some part of the history of

his life; for, under each, is an inscription, relating the events and

date of the hunt, by which he killed it. There are twenty-three such

ornaments.

The greatest part of the furniture had been removed, during the

approach of the French, in 1792; and the Archduchess Maria Christina,

to whom the Elector, her brother, had lent the chateau, was now very

far from sumptuously accommodated. On this account, she passed much of

her time, at Goodesberg, a small watering place in the neighbourhood.

After her retreat from Brussels, in consequence of the advances of the

French in the same year, she had accompanied her husband, the Duke of

Saxe Teschen, into Saxony; but, since his appointment to the command

of the Emperor's army of the Upper Rhine, her residence had been

established in the dominions of her brother.

We were shewn through her apartments, which she had left for

Goodesberg, a few hours before. On the table of her sitting room

lay the fragments of a painted cross, composed of small pieces, like

our dissected maps, the putting of which together exercises ingenuity

and passes, perhaps, for a sort of piety. The attendant said, that

it served to pass the time; but it cannot be supposed, that rank

and fortune have so little power to bestow happiness, as that their

possessors should have recourse to such means of lightening the hours

of life.

On another table, was spread a map of all the countries, then included

in the Theatre of War, and on it a box, filled with small pieces of

various coloured wax, intended to mark the positions of the different

armies. These were of many shades; for the Archduchess, who is said

to be conversant with military affairs and to have descended to the

firing of bombs at the siege of Lisle, was able to distinguish the

several corps of the allied armies, that were acting separately from

each other. The positions were marked up to the latest accounts then

public. The course of her thoughts was visible from this chart, and

they were interesting to curiosity, being those of the sister of the

late unfortunate Queen of France.

The walls of an adjoining cabinet were ornamented with drawings from

the antique by the Archduchess, disposed upon a light ground and

serving instead of tapestry.

The chapel is a rotunda, rising into a dome, and, though small, is

splendid with painting and gilding. In the centre are four altars,

formed on the four sides of a square pedestal, that supports a figure

of our Saviour; but the beauty of this design is marred by the vanity

of placing near each altar the statue of a founder of the Teutonic

order. The furniture of the Elector's gallery is of crimson velvet and

gold.

On another side of the chateau, we were shewn an apartment entirely

covered with grotto work, and called the hall of shells; a curious

instance of patient industry, having been completed by one man, during

a labour of many years. Its situation in the middle of an inhabited

mansion is unsuitable to the character of a grotto: but its coolness

must render it a very convenient retreat; and the likenesses of

animals, as well as the other forms, into which the shells are thrown,

though not very elegant, are fanciful enough, especially as the

ornaments of fountains, which play into several parts of the room.

Leaving the palace by the bridge of a moat, that nearly surrounds it,

we passed through the pleasant village of Poppelsdorff, and ascended

the hill SANCTÆ CRUCIS, called so from the convent of the same name,

which occupies its summit. The road wound between thick woods; but we

soon left it for a path, that led more immediately to the summit,

among shrubs and plantations of larch and fir, and which opened into

easy avenues of turf, that sometimes allowed momentary views of other

woody points and of the plains around. The turf was uncommonly fragrant

and fine, abounding with plants, which made us regret the want of a

Botanist's knowledge and pleasures. During the ascent, the peaked tops

of the mountains of the Rhine, so often admired below, began to appear

above a ridge of dark woods, very near us, in a contrast of hues, which

was exquisitely fine. It was now near evening; the mistiness of heat

was gone from the surface of these mountains, and they had assumed a

blue tint so peculiar and clear, that they appeared upon the sky, like

supernatural transparencies.

We had heard, at Bonn, of the Capuchins' courtesy, and had no

hesitation to knock at their gate, after taking some rest in the

portico of the church, from whence we looked down another side of the

mountain, over the long plains between Bonn and Cologne. Having waited

some time at the gate, during which many steps fled along the passage

and the head of a monk appeared peeping through a window above, a

servant admitted us into a parlour, adjoining the refectory, which

appeared to have been just left. This was the first convent we had

entered, and we could not help expecting to see more than others had

described; an involuntary habit, from which few are free, and which

need not be imputed to vanity, so long as the love of surprise shall

be so visible in human pursuits. When the lay-brother had quitted us,

to inform the superior of our request, not a footstep, or a voice

approached, for near a quarter of an hour, and the place seemed as

if uninhabited. Our curiosity had no indulgence within the room,

which was of the utmost plainness, and that plainness free from any

thing, that the most tractable imagination could suppose peculiar to

a convent. At length, a monk appeared, who received us with infinite

good humour, and with the ease which must have been acquired in more

general society. His shaven head and black garments formed a whimsical

contrast to the character of his person and countenance, which bore no

symptoms of sorrow, or penance, and were, indeed, animated by an air

of cheerfulness and intelligence, that would have become the happiest

inhabitant of the gayest city.

Through some silent passages, in which he did not shew us a cell and

we did not perceive another monk, we passed to the church, where the

favour of several Electors has assisted the display of paintings,

marble, sculpture, gold and silver, mingled and arranged with

magnificent effect. Among these was the marble statue, brought from

England, at a great expence, and here called a representation of St.

Anne, who is said to have found the Cross. Our conductor seemed to

be a man of good understanding and desirous of being thought so; a

disposition, which gave an awkwardness to his manner, when, in noticing

a relic, he was obliged to touch upon some unproved and unimportant

tradition, peculiar to his church and not essential to the least

article of our faith. His sense of decorum as a member of the convent

seemed then to be struggling with his vanity, as a man.

But there are relics here, pretending to a connection with some parts

of christian history, which it is shocking to see introduced to

consideration by any means so trivial and so liable to ridicule. It

is, indeed, wonderful, that the absurd exhibitions, made in Romish

churches, should so often be minutely described, and dwelt upon in

terms of ludicrous exultation by those, who do not intend that most

malignant of offences against human nature, the endeavour to excite a

wretched vanity by sarcasm and jest, and to employ it in eradicating

the comforts of religion. To such writers, the probable mischief of

uniting with the mention of the most important divine doctrines the

most ridiculous of human impositions ought to be apparent; and, as the

risk is unnecessary in a Protestant country, why is it encountered?

That persons otherwise inclined should adopt these topics is not

surprising; the easiest pretences to wit are found to be made by means

of familiar allusions to sacred subjects, because their necessary

incongruity accomplishes the greatest part of what, in other cases,

must be done by wit itself; there will, therefore, never be an end of

such allusions, till it is generally seen, that they are the resources

and symptoms of mean understandings, urged by the feverish desire of

an eminence, to which they feel themselves inadequate.

From the chapel we ascended to a tower of the convent, whence all

the scattered scenes, of whose beauty, or sublimity, we had caught

partial glimpses between the woods below, were collected into one vast

landscape, and exhibited almost to a single glance. The point, on which

the convent stands, commands the whole horizon. To the north, spread

the wide plains, before seen, covered with corn, then just embrowned,

and with vines and gardens, whose alternate colours formed a gay

checker work with villages, convents and castles. The grandeur of this

level was unbroken by any inclosures, that could seem to diminish its

vastness. The range of woody heights, that bound it on the west, extend

to the southward, many leagues beyond the hill _Sanctæ Crucis_; but

the uniform and unbroken ridges of distant mountains, on the east,

cease before the Seven Mountains rise above the Rhine in all their

awful majesty. The bases of the latter were yet concealed by the woody

ridge near the convent, which gives such enchanting effect to their

aërial points. The sky above them was clear and glowing, unstained

by the lightest vapour; and these mountains still appeared upon it,

like unsubstantial visions. On the two highest pinnacles we could

just distinguish the ruins of castles, and, on a lower precipice, a

building, which our reverend guide pointed out as a convent, dedicated

to St. Bernard, giving us new occasion to admire the fine taste of the

monks in their choice of situations.

Opposite to the Seven Mountains, the plains of Goodesberg are

screened by the chain of hills already mentioned, which begin in the

neighbourhood of Cologne, and whose woods, spreading into France,

there assume the name of the Forest of Ardennes. Within the recesses

of these woods the Elector has a hunting-seat, almost every window of

which opens upon a different alley, and not a stag can cross these

without being seen from the chateau. It is melancholy to consider,

that the most frequent motives of man's retirement among the beautiful

recesses of nature, are only those of destroying the innocent animals

that inhabit her shades. Strange! that her lovely scenes cannot soften

his heart to milder pleasures, or elevate his fancy to nobler pursuits,

and that he must still seek his amusement in scattering death among the

harmless and the happy.

As we afterwards walked in the garden of the convent, the greater part

of which was planted with vines, the monk further exhibited his good

humour and liberality. He enquired concerning the events of the war, of

which he appeared to know the latest; spoke of his friends in Cologne

and other places; drew a ludicrous picture of the effect which would

be produced by the appearance of a capuchin in London, and laughed

immoderately at it. "There," said he, "it would be supposed, that some

harlequin was walking in a capuchin's dress to attract spectators for

a pantomime; here nobody will follow him, lest he should lead them to

church. Every nation has its way, and laughs at the ways of others.

Considering the effects, which differences sometimes have, there are

few things more innocent than that sort of laughter."

The garden was stored with fruits and the vegetable luxuries of the

table, but was laid out with no attention to beauty, its inimitable

prospects having, as the good monk said, rendered the society careless

of less advantages. After exchanging our thanks for his civilities

against his thanks for the visit, we descended to Poppelsdorff by a

steep road, bordered with firs and fragrant shrubs, which frequently

opened to corn lands and vineyards, where peasants were busied in

dressing the vines.

About a mile from Bonn is a garden, or rather nursery, to which they

have given the name of _Vauxhall_. It is much more rural than that

of London, being planted with thick and lofty groves, which, in this

climate, are gratefully refreshing, during the summer-day, but are very

pernicious in the evening, when the vapour, arising from the ground,

cannot escape through the thick foliage. The garden is lighted up only

on great festivals, or when the Elector or his courtiers give a ball in

a large room built for the purpose. On some days, half the inhabitants

of Bonn are to be seen in this garden, mingling in the promenade with

the Elector and his nobility; but there were few visitors when we saw

it. Count GIMNICH, the commander, who had surrendered Mentz to the

French, was the only person pointed out to us.

The road from hence to Bonn was laid out and planted with poplars

at the expence of the Elector, who has a taste for works of public

advantage and ornament. His Grandmastership of the Teutonic

Order renders his Court more frequented than those of the other

ecclesiastical Princes, the possessions of that Order being still

considerable enough to support many younger brothers of noble families.

Having passed his youth in the army, or at the courts of Vienna or

Brussels, he is also environed by friends, made before the vacancy of

an ecclesiastical electorate induced him to change his profession; and

the union of his three incomes, as Bishop of Munster, Grand Master and

Elector, enables him to spend something more than two hundred thousand

pounds annually. His experience and revenues are, in many respects,

very usefully employed. To the nobility he affords an example of

so much personal dignity, as to be able to reject many ostentatious

customs, and to remove some of the ceremonial barriers, which men

do not constantly place between themselves and their fellow-beings,

except from some consciousness of personal weakness. All sovereigns,

who have had any sense of their individual liberty and power, have

shewn a readiness to remove such barriers; but not many have been able

to effect so much as the Elector of Cologne against the chamberlains,

pages, and other footmanry of their courts, who are always upon the

_alerte_ to defend the false magnificence that makes their offices seem

necessary. He now enjoys many of the blessings, usual only in private

stations; among others, that of conversing with great numbers of

persons, not forced into his society by their rank, and of dispensing

with much of that attendance, which would render his menial servants

part of his company.

His secretary, Mr. Floret, whom we had the pleasure to see, gave us

some accounts of the industry and carefulness of his private life,

which he judiciously thought were better than any other panegyrics

upon his master. His attention to the relief, employment and education

of the poor, to the state of manufactures and the encouragement of

talents, appears to be continual; and his country would soon have

elapsed from the general wretchedness of Germany, if the exertions

of three campaigns had not destroyed what thirty years of care and

improvement cannot restore.

His residence at Bonn occasions expenditure enough to keep the people

busy, but he has not been able to divert to it any part of the

commerce, which, though it is of so little use at Cologne, is here

spoken of with some envy, and seems to be estimated above its amount.

The town, which is much neater than the others in the electorate, and

so pleasantly situated, that its name has been supposed to be formed

from the Latin synonym for good, is ornamented by few public buildings,

except the palace. What is called the University is a small brick

building, used more as a school than a college, except that the masters

are called professors. The principal church of four, which are within

the walls, is a large building, distinguished by several spires, but

not remarkable for its antiquity or beauty.

Many of the German powers retain some shew of a representative

government, as to affairs of finance, and have States, by which taxes

are voted. Those of the electorate of Cologne consist of four colleges,

representing the clergy, nobility, knights and cities; the votes are

given by colleges, so that the inhabitants of the cities, if they

elect their representatives fairly, have one vote in four. These States

assemble at Bonn.

One of the privileges, which it is surprising that the present Elector

should retain, is that of grinding corn for the consumption of the

whole town. His mill, like those of all the towns on the Rhine, is a

floating one, moored in the river, which turns its wheel. Bread is

bad at Bonn; but this oppressive privilege is not entirely answerable

for it, there being little better throughout the whole country. It

generally appears in rolls, with glazed crusts, half hollow; the crumb

not brown, but a sort of dirty white.

There are few cities in Germany without walls, which, when the dreadful

science of war was less advanced than at present, frequently protected

them against large armies. These are now so useless, that such cannon

as are employed against batteries could probably not be fired from

them without shaking their foundations. The fortifications of Bonn are

of this sort; and, though they were doubtless better, when the Duke

of Marlborough arrived before them, it is wonderful that they should

have sustained a regular siege, during which great part of the town was

demolished. The electorate of Cologne is, indeed, so ill prepared for

war, that it has not one town, which could resist ten thousand men for

three days.

The inhabitants of Bonn, whenever they regret the loss of their

fortifications, should be reminded of the three sieges, which, in the

course of thirty years, nearly destroyed their city. Of these the

first was in 1673, when the Elector had received a French garrison

into it; but the resistance did not then continue many days. It was

in this siege that the Prince of Orange, afterwards our honoured

William the Third, had one of his few military successes. In 1689,

the French, who had lately defended it, returned to attack it; and,

before they could subdue the strong garrison left in it by the Elector

of Brandenburg, the palace and several public buildings were destroyed.

The third siege was commanded by the Duke of Marlborough, and continued

from the 24th of April to the 16th of May, the French being then the

defenders, and the celebrated Cohorn one of the assailants. It was not

till fifteen years afterwards, that all the houses, demolished in this

siege, could be restored by the efforts of the Elector Joseph.

The present Elector maintains, in time of peace, about eight hundred

soldiers, which is the number of his contingent to the army of the

Empire: in the present war he has supplied somewhat more than this

allotment; and, when we were at Bonn, two thousand recruits were in

training. His troops wear the general uniform of the Empire, blue

faced with red, which many of the Germanic sovereigns give only to

their contingent troops, while those of their separate establishments

are distinguished by other colours. The Austrian regiments are chiefly

in white; faced with light blue, grey, or red; but the artillery are

dressed, with very little shew, in a cloak speckled with light brown.

Bonn was one of the very few places in Germany, which we left with

regret. It is endeared to the votaries of landscape by its situation

in the midst of fruitful plains, in the presence of stupendous

mountains, and on the bank of a river, that, in summer, is impelled

by the dissolved snows of Switzerland, and, in winter, rolls with the

accumulation of a thousand torrents from the rocks on its shores.

It contained many inhabitants, who had the independence to aim at a

just taste in morals and letters, in spite of the ill examples with

which such countries supply them; and, having the vices of the form

of government, established in it, corrected by the moderation and

immediate attention of the governor, it might be considered as a happy

region in the midst of ignorance, injustice and misery, and remembered

like the green spot, that, in an Arabian desert, cheers the senses and

sustains the hopes of the weary traveller.