WIESBADEN, GERMANY, _Sept. 15, 1856_.
Zurich is not only justly celebrated for its lovely position and
beautiful lake, and its good hotels, but for its increasing silk
trade, which rivals to some extent that of Lyons in France. It now has
connexion by railway with the industrious canton of St. Gall and the
Lake of Constance.
I was struck with the marked progress the Swiss have made in the
manufacture of cotton, and noticed in several places many large
factories, four and five stories high, comparing favorably with the
mills in the villages of New England. The raw material used in the
eastern counties is mostly Egyptian; transportation is long and
tedious, via Trieste or Venice over the railway and mountain routes.
St. Gall is appreciated by the ladies. Its ten thousand population live
and thrive, and its merchants grow rich, out of its fancy embroidery
trade, now greatly extended in our country.
The inhabitants of the Canton of Appenzell, situated from one thousand
to fifteen hundred feet above the level of Lake Constance, are mostly
engaged in this kind of labor. The Canton is nearly equally divided
between Protestants and Catholics, who live separately, scarcely ever
intermarrying, and pursuing different styles of work. The country is a
grazing one; the people subsist mostly upon cheese and milk. The supply
of wheat and rye comes from Bavaria, Wirtemburg, and Austrian Tyrol,
and from Roorschach, upon the Lake.
It is curious to see the occupants of all the houses in the villages
and in the country, boys and girls, men and women, when not engaged
at other work, busy with their forms and patterns before them, plying
the needle. In the villages the children commence at eight years old,
but in the country they put them at it at the age of six. As persons
advance in years, and their sight becomes weak, they perform coarse
work. The houses are all constructed with a line of front windows,
close together, for the admission of light. The gain derived from
this kind of labor is about ten cents per day, upon the average. The
Catholic portion of the Canton still adhere to all descriptions of
light work; the others turn their attention more to Vorhang Stuckerei,
or curtain embroidery, dresses, and under-garments, and succeed better.
One of the worst features in this early application is the entire
deprivation of education, and the consequent ignorance of the masses.
Weisbad is an agreeable, quiet resort in that mountainous country, with
good hotels, shady walks, pleasant company, but with little virtue in
its waters. A number of the party who had not climbed mountains, and
seen the sun rise, started off at three A.M. for a peak some
thousands of feet high. My souvenirs of Norwegian, Chilian, Teneriffe,
Spanish, and Sicilian sunrises and sunsets were still vivid, and I
declined the invitation.
A very excellent view is had from a mountain called Peter and Paul, a
few miles from St. Galls; this view extends over the Lake of Constance,
Bregenz in Tyrol, Lindau in Bavaria, Friedrichshafen in Würtemberg, and
Rorschach, which is a part of St. Gall, six miles distant. At Bregenz,
the St. Gebhardsberg, or mountain, a place of pilgrimage, is the most
frequented. The great festival is on the birthday of St. Gebhard
(August 27), who, in the 12th century, was Bishop of Constance, and
whose history is rather interesting. The church, built upon the site
of the old family castle, was commenced by a hermit in the year 1670.
The ascent is rather fatiguing for three-quarters of an hour, but one
is well repaid for the labor. A magnificent view is obtained from its
summit over the lake and surrounding country. Here the Rhine flows into
the lake.
At Lindau, where I once had debarked _en route_ for Augsburg and
Munich, a tedious mail-coach ride, I now found the railroad complete,
and at Friedrichshafen another to conduct one to Ulm and Stuttgart,
over a road which I had travelled formerly at snail’s pace. When I
was first in Europe, in 1840–42, and travelled pretty generally over
the continent, I found only six pieces of railway, and now we have a
perfect network in all directions; except in Spain, Southern Italy,
Greece, Turkey, and the extreme northern regions, facilities are
constantly multiplying. The transport from one point to another is
without loss of time, as formerly; consequently, the tourist has more
opportunities to see the cities.
The length of the lake from Bregenz to Constanz is about thirty-eight
miles; then, by steamer, you take the meandering Rhine, as it flows
out through the valleys, with its hills, chateaux, and vineyards, to
the town of Schaffhausen, near the falls. Coming down the lake, before
landing at Friedrichshafen, we met the Queen of Würtemberg and suite,
on a pleasure excursion. The steamer was decorated with flags, and
salutes of cannons were exchanged. The presence of the royal family
in the palace and pretty grounds forbids the entrance of strangers,
but the gate-keeper, in the absence of his royal mistress, could not
resist the silver-key, and conducted me throughout. Here royalty is
inclosed in high stone walls, with an ample park, trees, shrubbery,
and flowers, bubbling fountains, and elevated shady look-outs upon the
margin of the beautiful sheet of water; surrounded with luxuries and
liveried servants, it is unconscious probably of the want and privation
of many within a stone’s throw. But if Germany is satisfied to support
thirty-two princes and potentates in pomp and extravagance, we have no
right to complain.
The city of Constanz has nothing of great interest, aside from its
antique cathedral, built in 1052, and now in process of restoration,
and the old building and saloon of the famous Council of 1414–1418,
with their contents.
We left there at twelve A.M. and arrived at Schaffhausen at five P.M.
Passengers dine on deck _à la carte_, and enjoy the varied views in
passing.
I found great changes since my last visit to the falls of the Rhine.
The huge rock upon which stands the castle, containing picture
galleries, sale rooms and Camera Obscura, has been tunnelled, and the
stone arches for the railroad bridge are being constructed across the
river. We visited all the attractive points of view, and shortly after
ferrying across with our light skiff, in the misty clouds of spray
and the deafening roar, and getting in the large Hotel Webber, on the
summit of the hill directly in front of the waterfall, there came up
a severe thunderstorm, and in the dulness of the night, the repeated
flashes of lightning lent additional interest to the scene. The
weather cleared up, however, and the full moon’s rays gave us all the
advantages of a night view. An hour’s ride brings one by diligence to
the frontier of the Duchy of Baden, and seven hours more, to Freiburg,
which is one of the cleanest towns I have met with. Streams of water
course through all the streets. The Cathedral, built by the celebrated
Erwin von Steinbach, the architect of the Strasburg edifice, with a
tower almost as high as that of the Cathedral; the illuminated glass
windows; things there attract even when one is fatigued with works of
art.
Here we strike a lightning line, or “_Schnell Zug_,” which carries
one to Baden-Baden.
This being my third visit, I was not induced to make a long _sejour_,
but came by rail to Frankfort on the Main. I spent a day or two at
Homburg, in the vicinity. My object was to get to this place to avail
myself of the benefit of these waters for bathing and drinking; and
here I am, up at six in the morning, and at the hot, boiling spring,
guzzling my three or four glasses, at intervals of a short walk, with
no lack of company. Then comes a bath, repose for a while, warmly
covered, and afterwards a light breakfast. There are two _table
d’hôtes_, at one and four P.M., and music in the morning at the Healing
Fountain, and in the afternoon at the Kursaal, with its beautiful shady
walks through the extended grounds.