I floated down the Rhine from Coblentz to Cologne, reviewing my
recollections of the localities of that beautiful river, rendered
doubly interesting from its historical associations and old legends,
with all its varieties of wild and picturesque scenery; towns and
villages and fertile plains upon its banks; thick forests and vine-clad
hills, and old chateaus, and rivers in the distance.
I remained but a single day in Cologne. The great Cathedral, which
was begun in 1248, and which would have been, if completed, one of
the finest Gothic monuments in Europe, with towers five hundred feet
high, has been left in an unfinished state for centuries, but of
late years the king of Prussia has made large appropriations towards
its repairs and gradual completion. I find the work has progressed
moderately, and the king of Bavaria has made a splendid present of
stained glass windows, which will be exhibited publicly in a few
days, when the centennial anniversary of the Cathedral takes place,
and there will be a great re-union of kings, princes, and plebeians.
A few years since when I was in Prussia, and travelled by private
post, or the conveyances of the country, it occupied much more time
in making distance, but one saw the country to better advantage; now
the railroads are constructed in many parts, and the traveller is
transported from one city to another with locomotive speed.
I came from Cologne to Hanover and Brunswick, and then retraced my
steps in order to visit Bremen, and from thence returned, via Hanover,
to take my departure for Hamburg, accomplishing the entire distance
by railway with less fatigue and in less time than if I had crossed
the country, which is a much shorter way; but one is exposed to night
travel and the want of pure air, as the Germans have a horror of an
open window, and are constantly enveloped in a cloud of smoke. On some
of the German railways they have third and fourth class cars. In France
and Belgium, and in fact all over Europe, the genteel traveller takes
the first class car; not so in Germany, for there the second class is
almost as well mounted as the first, and is part of the same car with
partitions; the third class receives those who like more air, free
smoking, economy, and hard seats. The Germans say that none but princes
and fools take first class cars; but if one must pass a part of the
night on the railroad, and wishes to be quiet with a car to himself,
without society, then they are preferable. On some of the German roads
no luggage is carried free; on others from thirty to fifty pounds are
allowed the passenger; in some instances for five pounds overweight of
the scale, which varies on the different roads, I have paid as much as
an American dollar--a caution to those who make long voyages with much
luggage.
Hanover, the residence of the old king Ernest, is on the river Leine,
with a population of some thirty thousand inhabitants. It is a curious
old town, with peculiar Gothic houses, and is remarkable for a
superfluity of windows, which, if they were subject to the light tax of
England, would soon ruin their owners. The Esplanade, in which stands
the Waterloo Monument, a column one hundred and fifty-six feet high,
with a statue of Victory, dedicated to the Hungarians who fell in that
conflict, presented a gay scene, on the occasion of a Sunday parade of
all the troops, prior to the reception of the king of Prussia, who was
expected to halt there while on his way to the Cologne celebration.
I had a view from the top of the column of a rich, fertile, and
beautiful country lying in the distance, with the turn-out of the
citizens and peasantry in holiday attire, after the church service of
the morning, and the evolutions of the horse, artillery, and infantry,
near the base of the column, and an imposing sight it was. I had seen
most of the monarchs of Europe in my journeyings, except King William,
who was absent when I was at Potsdam, his residence; but here I had the
opportunity of seeing his reception and all his courtiers, with all
that famous troop of cream-colored and black horses, of the English
breed, from the royal stables.
Brunswick, the capital of another of these German princes, who have
so long tried to outvie each other in the splendor of their palaces,
parks, &c., to the detriment of their subjects, is a very old city
of thirty-five thousand inhabitants. The palace is a tasteful and
splendid building. It is said that the old one was burnt by some of
the citizens, who were obliged to replace it by a much more costly
and beautiful edifice, and the Duke is now sumptuously quartered. The
antiquity of the city strikes the eye of a stranger, particularly
the gable-ends of the houses to the streets, steep roofs with rows
of windows in them, and the immense number of windows in the fronts.
The famous corps of Black Brunswickers was parading in the palace
grounds--the first of this uniform I had ever seen--and looked
frightful. They wore black cloth uniform, slightly relieved, and black
horsehair plumes with death’s-head and cross-bones; they are said to be
valorous, and particularly attached to the Duke.
The railroad depot at Brunswick is very splendid; in fact, in several
parts of Germany the depots are furnished in the most sumptuous style,
the buildings in some places being like palaces of Gothic architecture,
some with towers, and the waiting saloons of the first and second class
passengers furnished with sofas and divans, covered with rich stuffs;
in short, they have spent too much money for the interest of the
shareholders.
On visiting Bremen, I was struck with that air of cleanliness and
comfort which one finds in Holland. It is one of the free cities
of Germany, lying on the river Weser, and one with which we have a
growing trade. I expected to find the steamer Washington there, as her
commander, Captain Johnson, came from our section of country; but she
lay down the river, at Bremerhaven, and was just about departing. The
city has a population of some forty-five thousand, and has fine new
white houses upon the streets, which front the walks, and boulevards
which extend around the city.
The quantity of tobacco imported from America is immense; it is
manufactured here and sent through all Germany, and one sees the names
of all our states and towns noted for “the weed” figuring in the shop
windows.
The old town is quite like the other German towns, and has some
curiosities. The old cathedral has a vault which contains some bodies
which have been preserved from decomposition for centuries. But an
exhibition of this kind at Bordeaux is most curious; for there are
the remains of some twenty persons, whose history is known from the
tombstones; when disinterred they were found, from the peculiarity of
the soil, with the flesh only wasted. The mummies were placed around
the low vault, lighted by torches; and among the number was a colossal
man who killed himself by a trial of strength; another, a girl buried
in a trance, and now exhibiting all the horrible forms and agonies of
starvation and despair, with a portion of her own body devoured.
On my arrival at Hamburg, I found the river Elbe, upon which it stands,
blockaded by the Danes, and the merchants complaining bitterly. This
city is eighty miles from the mouth of the river, and is divided in
many places by canals and crossed by bridges; and in the old town, the
houses, bridges, and quays reminded me of Amsterdam. The city has a
population of some one hundred and forty thousand, and possesses an
immense amount of commerce. The great fire a few years ago has been
the means of beautifying that portion of the city which was destroyed,
for now the burnt district is rebuilt, and will compare for splendor
with any of the continental cities. The old fortifications and ramparts
around the city are now, as in many other capitals, thrown down, and
covered with trees, plants, and flowers, which afford a breathing-place
for the inhabitants, and a delightful promenade.
There are no remarkable collections of art, or curiosities for a
stranger, in Hamburg. The promenades in the gardens, the cafés crowded
with both sexes, the sight of the water parties, in their gaily painted
boats, a stroll through the gardens in the evening, listening to the
music, and viewing the dances and waltzes of all classes, is quite
sufficient to occupy the time of a traveller. I met here, at the same
hotel, an old travelling acquaintance, who left me in the West Indies
some three years ago, and who had since made the campaign of Mexico. I
allude to Mr. Kendall, of the _New Orleans Picayune_, who is now
writing a history of the war. In walking out together, said he, “_Do
you see that coffin? There goes another coffin!_” And in fact so it
appeared to be. The servant girls and cooks rarely go out without being
gaily dressed; at all events, a splendid shawl is arranged under the
arm so as to cover a basket in the exact form of a child’s coffin; and
it matters not whether it is fish, butter, cheese, or dirty clothes for
the wash, it must always be covered with a shawl.
Altona, a populous town and a part of the Duchy of Holstein, belongs
to Denmark, and is now in dispute; it is in the immediate vicinity of
Hamburg, so that the two cities have almost grown together. I there
found troops collecting together from the different German states, to
go forward to Schleswig and Holstein.
The distance from Hamburg to Lubeck, where I took the steamer for
Copenhagen, is about forty-five miles, and is made by diligence. We
were three in the coupé, or front apartment of the vehicle; and to my
surprise, for the first time in Germany, my companions did not smoke
either pipe or cigar.
The free town of Lubeck is a very antiquated place, with its Gothic
churches, and venerable public buildings, and has not changed very much
in general appearance since the days of its prosperity. Its population
is not one half of what the city is capable of containing; and the
lifeless streets, in many parts overgrown with grass, tell the story
of deserted commerce. There is sufficient, however, of interest here
to keep the traveller a day or two, to look at the old paintings and
other works of art in the churches, some of which are very superior.
One of the paintings upon wood, of the style of the fifteenth century,
would compare with those at Florence. It was a representation of the
events of the Passion of our Saviour, from the agony in the garden to
the resurrection, depicted in twenty-three distinct groups introduced
in the landscape, in the background of which appears Jerusalem. Another
very curious painting, occupying three sides of one room, was The
Dance of Death, with the Pope, the bishop, the king, the merchant, the
banker, and others, all in appropriate dress, with dialogues inscribed
above them; but the skeleton Death always had the advantage. It has
been preserved since the fourteenth century, and is only valuable for
the design, which is curious.
The passage from Lubeck, by steamer, to Copenhagen, was made in less
than twenty-four hours. This residence and capital of the King of
Denmark is a large commercial city, with a population of some two
hundred thousand inhabitants. The Danes, being surrounded by water,
have naturally become good sailors, and their greatest strength in
carrying on the war consists in their fleet, with which they have
captured and now have one hundred and ten German vessels in port. It
is quite amusing in going from one country to another to look at the
caricatures in the shop windows; in Germany, the Danes are escaping
from the battle-grounds in awful plight, but here the tables are turned
and the Dutchmen have got the worst of it.
The palaces and parks are not very remarkable, but there are some
fine gardens and places of resort for the multitude, one of which,
the Tivoli, is fitted up with much taste. Those who want amusements,
in the way of theatres, jugglers, singing, miniature railroads, or a
look at the zoological collections, can have their choice here. The
grounds of the cemetery are very extensive and beautifully laid out,
as is the case in most parts of Germany, and I have in very many cases
visited them. The greatest respect is paid by friends to the ashes of
the dead; it is gratifying to see mothers and sisters quietly employed
in plucking the weeds from among the blooming flowers, and watering the
plants growing over the graves of those they loved. They have a custom
here of embanking the borders of the grave with white sand, while on
the top are presented beautiful little flower gardens under the shade
of the weeping willow and other trees.
This was the birthplace of the celebrated sculptor Thorwaldsen, whose
studio I visited in Rome some years ago, and who has since died,
leaving the bulk of his property to found a Museum for his vast
collection of art. In one of the churches is seen his colossal figure
of Christ, elevated on a pedestal behind the altar, with the twelve
apostles ranged on both sides of the body of the church, and in an
apartment of this same building rest the mortal remains of this great
artist, until the museum is complete, when they will be transported
thither, and rest with the wonderful works produced by the skill of
his hands. It is a large building, centrally situated, with spacious
halls and apartments filled with the originals in marble and plaster,
or copies in marble of the great works of this man which are found in
Italy and all parts of Europe, and it appears only surprising that even
in living to an advanced age he could have executed so much in one
lifetime.