Part 7

Some of the Hessians are still living who went to America in our revolution. I have seen two of the old veterans passing along the road, with ancient chapeaux that reminded me of prints I had seen many years since. Among the extravagances of the Elector, was the construction of the cascade of Carlsburgh, about three miles from the town, in the rear of the palace and grounds, and on the top of a high hill. You ascend a flight of nine hundred and two steps from the base to the top of the hill. A carriage road leads by the side of this gigantic staircase, in zigzags, to the summit. To the left of the steps, ascending, are flat stones laid one above another, very like a huge stairs, but with a greater acclivity, from the top of which the water is permitted to fall whenever it is desired, forming a beautiful cascade. The summit is surmounted by an octagon temple, called the Temple of the Winds, on which is raised an obelisk, serving as a pedestal for a colossal Hercules, thirty-one feet high, of beaten copper. It is possible to get up into the figure, and eight persons can stand in the hollow of the club, and out of a little window is one of the most extended views imaginable. The aquatic staircase, octagon temple and statue, altogether, employed two thousand men twenty-four years. When finished, the expenses were found to be so enormous that the accounts were burned to destroy all record of them.

Attached to the palace is a theatre, which was built by Joseph Bonaparte, in which he himself used to act. The grounds and walks are very beautiful, and once a week the principal fountain plays. It is the highest in Europe, and throws up a jet of water two hundred feet perpendicular, and twelve inches in diameter. It is supplied from reservoirs three hundred feet higher up the hill. Here are also artificial waterfalls, bridges, aqueducts, &c., finished at great cost.

From Cassel to Frankfort we travelled by Lohnkutch, which is a private conveyance, making the distance, one hundred and six miles, in two days, stopping to dine and lodge. We had also an opportunity to examine any remarkable church, manufacturing establishment, or other curiosity that might be attractive. Through Austria, Hungary, Saxony, and Prussia, we had all the varieties of travelling conveyances, known by such titles as Eilwagen, Schnellpost, Stellwagen, Bauernpost, Eisenbahnen, Railroad, Extra post, Zugkutcher, &c.

On the route from Cassel to Frankfort, we stopped over night at the town of Marburg. Its only object of curiosity is the church of St. Elizabeth, a beautiful specimen of the early Gothic pointed style of architecture, and in most perfect preservation, begun in the year 1231, and completed in forty-eight years. In one part of the church is the richly ornamented Gothic chapel dedicated to St. Elizabeth, the Landgravine of Hesse, who was canonized for the sanctity of her life in 1231. The carved tablet represents the saint lying on her coffin, surrounded by cripples and sick persons, the objects of her bounty Her soul is seen hovering above, on its way to Heaven, whence Christ extends his hands to receive her. The stone steps around it are worn hollow by the knees of pilgrims, who have resorted here for ages. There is now a partition through the church, for the accommodation of Catholics and Lutherans, who will never meet together.

In some parts of Bavaria and Austria, the pilgrimages are still kept up. Thousands and tens of thousands every year make a journey to the shrine of some favorite saint, to kiss some precious relic, or worship, in all but pagan idolatry, before some miracle-working picture or statue of the Virgin. At one place I saw as many as a thousand men, women, and girls, who were setting out on a journey to Maria Zella, a celebrated pilgrimage place in the Styrian Alps. They entered the cathedral from which they started, in procession, kissed the cross, made their prayers, and then marched forth on their pious tour on foot, many with scanty clothing to protect them from the storms, and with miserable supplies of food, carried in sacks or baskets, to sustain them on their fatiguing march. But such are the severe burdens that superstition, ignorance, and bigotry impose upon their wretched subjects.

XIX.

COLOGNE, PRUSSIA, _Aug. 16, 1841_.

Frankfort, from which I wrote last, is one of the free towns of Europe, being governed by a senate of its own; but it is considerably influenced by Austria and Prussia. Its territory is limited, not exceeding ten square miles, and the city and environs contain a population of fifty-two thousand--five thousand of whom are Jews. It is quite a lively city, the walls of which were levelled many years since and planted with trees, which now afford a delightful shade and promenade, being interspersed with a variety of plants and flowers. The desire for shade and fine promenades is an admirable feature in the European character, and in almost all cities I have yet visited on the Continent, I find the taste for agreeable and shady public walks to be prevalent; and I regret that their utility is so little considered in our own beautiful country, especially as they are greatly conducive to health, as well as comfort and pleasure.

Frankfort is the seat of the German diet, and the deliberations of the Confederation of the German States are held there. It is the residence of many foreign ambassadors and wealthy merchants, and from the extent of its monied transactions, may be called the city of bankers; the most prominent of them is Baron Rothschild, who lives in princely style, having a magnificent villa and pleasure grounds in the suburbs of the city. Frankfort was the cradle of the Rothschild family; the house in which they were born is in the Judenstrasse, or Jews’ street, which is narrow, with gaunt old buildings and gable ends to the street. The houses never having been cleaned or painted, the dust and smoke of centuries are upon them. I was directed to the house, which the mother of the Rothschilds still occupies, and which, since it is the old homestead of the family, narrow and confined as it is, she refuses to leave for the palace of her son, not far distant.

The condition of the Jews here is much ameliorated. Formerly, the part of the city they occupy was closed by gates at an early hour; and another tyrannical law restricted the number of marriages among them to thirteen yearly. Both of those oppressions are now removed.

There are many objects of interest to occupy the attention at Frankfort. The banker to whom my letter was addressed, had a gallery of works of art. Among the sculpture, a piece representing Ariadne is the most prominent, and considered the lion of Frankfort; it is the figure of a female resting gracefully on the back of a tiger, beautifully executed, of pure Carrara marble. The gallery is liberally thrown open to the public. Before leaving the city, I thought it would not be unprofitable or uninteresting to visit the new cemetery, and take a melancholy but impressive walk among the abodes of the dead, as I had done while at Leipsig and some other German cities, as the cemeteries are places of public resort at all hours, and the gates always stand open during the day. One of the peculiarities of the German character is their veneration for the abodes of the dead. The grounds are beautifully and tastefully laid out, with walks adorned with shade trees and every variety of flowers. At one end of the inclosure is a long and beautiful arcade, under which repose, beneath pompous monuments, the rich and noble. Other parts of the ground are thickly studded with crosses, gravestones, and monuments, among which may be seen groups of young and old, entwining wreaths of flowers and evergreens around the monuments of those they loved, or perhaps placing a basin of holy water, or arranging a little border of flowers, by the side of some new-made grave. I saw many new graves strewed over with strips of lace, with tassels of gold and silver attached, on many of which the name and age of the deceased were imprinted.

A police regulation here requires that all bodies for interment shall be placed in the dead-house for a certain length of time, to guard against accidents by burial in cases of suspended animation. The building contains ten rooms for the bodies, and a room in the centre for a watchman; also a room provided with beds, medicines, and all other necessary articles, in case of the reviving of a subject. The fingers of the prostrate corpses are placed in the loops of a string attached to an alarm clock; and on the slightest motion or pulsation of the body, it gives the alarm to the watchman, who immediately summons assistance. But I will dwell no longer in the places of the dead, but return to the ways of the living.

On leaving Frankfort I visited Wiesbaden, which is the capital of the Duchy of Nassau, and has a population of ten thousand. Thousands resort thither for health and pleasure, and the efficacy of its baths; it being favorably situated, and connected with Mayence on the Rhine, and Frankfort, by railroad, it is more frequented than any of the German watering-places. My stay at this place of bustle and high life was short, but to give an idea of it, I will state that on our arrival at the junction of the railroad, we pursued our way to the Kursaal, the prominent hotel of the town, through a long line of beautiful sycamore trees. Having arrived at the usual dinner hour (one o’clock), we found a magnificent saloon, with three hundred guests at table, and a band of music playing in the same room. As there were no vacancies, we ordered dinner at a later hour, and in the meantime visited the springs, and strolled through the beautiful grounds by the side of a lake, on which white swans were seen gliding gracefully over the surface; the banks were lined with dahlias and other flowers. One spring has the appearance of a boiling cauldron, with a temperature of one hundred and fifty-six degrees Fahrenheit. Its waters are used for drinking, and taste very much like weak chicken broth. It supplies many baths, and the quantity that runs to waste is very considerable. In addition to this principal one, there are thirteen other springs.

On returning from our interesting walk, we saw many groups descending the hill on donkeys, which are always ready to convey visitors to the heights about Wiesbaden, to enjoy the fine view up and down the Rhine. To my surprise, on returning to the hotel, I found the grand saloon converted to a use which is not tolerated publicly at any of the Austrian and Prussian watering-places that I have yet visited. Here they have a special privilege from the government to gamble in public. Among the many hundreds of visitors, some were occupied in promenading, or in sipping coffee and ices under the shade of the trees; others were engaged in play at the different games, and among them were many well dressed ladies taking part with all the coolness and gravity possible. Such are the customs, and such is life, among the gentry who collect here. The grand saloon of the hotel I found to be occupied regularly for four distinct purposes; that of a dining, a ball, an assembly, and a gambling room.

I next visited Mayence on the Rhine, a town with a population of thirty-one thousand. It is strongly garrisoned with Austrian and Prussian troops, being the chief fortress of the German confederation. The troops stationed here vary from eight thousand to sixteen thousand. Every town or city has something peculiar, or some attractive sights command the attention of the visitor; but there are few remarkable things about Mayence. Its cathedral, which was built in the tenth century, is noted for its antiquity. Europe is indebted to Mayence for two things, which have had the greatest influence in effecting human improvement--free trade and the printing-press. The art of printing was first known in Mayence, and it was the birthplace of John Gutenberg, one of the associates of the celebrated Faust in the invention and early promotion of the art. The town is connected with the opposite side of the river by a bridge of boats one thousand six hundred and sixty-six feet long.

At Mayence I took the steamer for Coblentz, and visited Ehrenbreitstein, the Gibraltar of the Rhine, an immense fortification on the opposite side, about eight hundred feet high, on a rock with steep slopes. It has cost the Prussian government four millions of dollars. Capable of holding fourteen thousand men, the magazines are large enough to contain provisions for eight thousand men ten years. The view from the heights is splendid, the banks of the “Blue Moselle,” with the bridge of boats, and other interesting sights, being directly opposite.

But the scenery along the Rhine, so celebrated throughout Europe, and so worthy of admiration, no pen can justly describe. It is of such a varied, delightful, and interesting character that it is impossible to convey an adequate idea of its beauties. No river in the world combines so many picturesque and magnificent views with so many historical associations. Its variety of wild and precipitous rocks, thick and gloomy forests, ruined castles, strongholds of the robber knights of former times, ruins of all descriptions, monuments, fortresses frowning from the lofty summits of the rocky elevations, with fertile plains, wide-spreading vineyards, towns and villages almost line the banks between Mayence and Coblentz. But this is the most interesting part of the river.

The vine is very extensively cultivated along the Rhine, producing some of the most celebrated wines. In some places the vineyards are nothing more than a succession of terraces, extending from five hundred to one thousand feet high, up the face of a hill, and frequently comprising from fifteen to twenty, each supported by a front wall from five to eight feet high.

XX.

AMSTERDAM, HOLLAND, _Aug. 24, 1841_.

In my last from Cologne I promised to say something descriptive of its attractions, and its being termed the Rome of the north. For its origin and antiquity it is deserving of notice; besides, it is a commercial city, and the largest on the Rhine. History says Cologne was founded by the Romans, and that Agrippina, the mother of Nero, was born here. The cathedral, which was commenced in the year 1248, by the Elector and Archbishop of Cologne, has remained up to the present between a fragment and a ruin. If it had been finished, it would have been one of the prettiest Gothic edifices existing. The choir is the only part completed. It is one hundred and eighty feet high, and internally, from its height, size, and disposition of arches, chapels, and beautifully colored windows, strikes one with awe and astonishment. The entire length of the cathedral is four hundred feet, its breadth one hundred and sixty. The towers, which were only partly finished, were to have been five hundred feet high. In a small chapel is the celebrated shrine of the three kings of Cologne, or the Magi, who came from the East with rich gifts for the infant Jesus. The bones were obtained by the Emperor Barbarossa and presented to the Bishop of Cologne. By a payment to the sacristan we entered the inclosure, which is under double locks. The case, or coffin, in which they are deposited, is of solid silver gilt, about six feet long, three high, and three wide, and is curiously wrought--surrounded by small arcades, supported by silver pillars, and by figures of the apostles. The case is enriched with cameos, enamels, antique gems, diamonds, rubies, and other precious stones in abundance. The skulls of the three kings, inserted with their names, Gaspar, Melchior, and Balthazar, written in rubies, are exhibited to view through an opening in the shrine, crowned with diadems. The sacristan says the treasures are worth six million francs. There are many other relics of saints, church plate, &c., exhibited.

The church of St. Ursula and of the eleven thousand virgins is too singular to be forgotten. As the legend goes, St. Ursula, with eleven thousand virgins, set sail, in the second or third century, I think, from Britain for Armenia, and was carried by tempest up the Rhine, where the whole party were slaughtered by the barbarian Huns because they refused to break their vows of chastity. In the church, which is large and commodious, in cases beneath and around the altars, inclosed and built in the walls, are these hideous bones. They are displayed in gaunt array, in glass cases, about the choir and the altar. In the golden chamber, encased in silver, a select few of the number are deposited, while St. Ursula reposes in a coffin behind the altar. The walls in this church are decorated with bones, fashioned in all fantastic shapes. One of the stone vessels is here shown which Christ used at the marriage supper, and in which he converted water into wine.

On leaving Cologne, by steamer, we descended to Nymwegen, the first frontier fortress of Holland, which we entered without a very strict examination of luggage. On sallying forth the morning following my arrival, I was forcibly struck with the unusual cleanliness and neatness of the Dutch, particularly as the day previous I had left Cologne, which is not only celebrated for Eau de Cologne, but for its filth. We left Nymwegen for Utrecht by diligence, and it being Saturday, the general “schoonmaking,” or cleaning day, I had a fine opportunity of witnessing what may be termed an excess of cleanliness, in passing through several small villages before arriving at Utrecht. Almost every house presented a scene of the utmost activity. The brushing, scrubbing, and mopping are not confined to the inside of the house, the steps, and door-ways, but the windows, walls, and sidewalks must undergo a course of ablution. Scarcely a domestic is seen without a water-pail and broom, or a small engine pump for throwing water to wash the windows, and a traveller stands a small chance of avoiding a shower bath, if he walks carelessly along the sidewalks. The drawing-room is a sort of sanctum, and is said to be rarely entered oftener than once a week, and then only by the housewife and her maid, with list shoes, to avoid scratching the polished floors. After having finished washing and dusting, the door is closed, and windows fastened for another week. Sabots, or wooden shoes, are generally worn during the purification, and after the work is finished they must undergo a regular wash as well as the brooms and other articles used in cleaning.

One of the peculiarities of the Dutch towns is the little mirrors projecting in front of the windows of almost all the houses. Ordinarily they are two pieces of looking-glass framed at an angle of forty-five degrees from each other, the one reflecting up the street and the other down, whereby the Dutch ladies may sit ensconced behind the blinds or curtains, and see all that is passing in the street, and not expose themselves to the gaze of the public.

At Utrecht, a city with a population of forty-four thousand, we found sufficient to entertain us for a day. On ascending the steeple of the cathedral, three hundred and eighty-eight feet high, we obtained a view of the surrounding country, which is a perfect flat, watered by canals in different directions, and avenues of trees, all planted by the rule, with an occasional windmill and steeple in the distance, to break the monotony of a Dutch landscape. Half way up to the top we were introduced into a room where refreshments are furnished, and found the family of the sexton, who had lived there thirty years and reared a family. While resting we enjoyed the merry chime of thirty or forty bells in the steeple, which is repeated every hour.

On leaving Utrecht we took the national conveyance, the treckschuite, or canal boat, which does not differ very materially in size from our Erie canal boats, with the exception of having separate apartments for the accommodation of different classes of passengers. The towing horse is ridden by a lad, who is very dexterous, in passing bridges and other vessels, in disengaging the tow rope without impeding the progress of the boat. The canals in Holland run in all directions through the country and through the towns and cities, and are the great high-road for the transportation of goods and passengers. The consequence is, that in the vicinity of large towns and cities, on the principal canals, which are about sixty feet wide and six feet deep, are located many beautiful villas, country seats, and pleasure gardens.

On the entire route to this city, since I have entered Holland, either along the highway or along the canal, especially in the vicinity of populous cities, I have discovered the abodes of those who seemed to study cleanliness and comfort. In the suburbs of the cities you will find those country-seats where great wealth is expended. At the end of the gardens overlooking the canal, or main road, is always placed a small temple, pagoda, or snug, comfortable building, where you will see the men smoking their pipes and sipping their beer, or the ladies their tea and coffee, engaged in knitting, or criticising the passers-by. Perhaps there is no country in the world where flowers grow to such perfection as in Holland, and nowhere have I seen such an array of plants and flowers as these gardens contain. The roads for wagons and diligences run along the line of the canal, or upon the dykes which are thrown up to protect the influx of the sea. The soil is of such a nature that roads are constructed with difficulty, and at an expense of seven thousand dollars per mile, all of hard burned brick placed edgeways. In traversing the canals in many instances, you look down upon the “polders” (so called) on both sides, with the cattle grazing far below the surface of the water you are navigating. Those polders are frequently liable to inundation during the winter season. You observe hundreds of windmills employed in sawing timber, grinding wheat, and other occupations, and among the number, in passing along, you discover many pumping the water from low grounds, or polders, that lie below you, and throwing it into the canal. It may well be said that the Hollander has made the wind his slave, for not a puff of air is suffered to escape without turning a windmill.