Chapter I: Havana, 1 (3)

The Elbe here seems pent up between bold cliffs and huge rocks, clothed in rich foliage wherever it is possible for a tree to hang; but it finds its way through them into a most romantic and picturesque country. In passing along we had a view of the Bartec, a rock that rises near the margin of the river to the height of eight hundred feet, and commands an extensive view of the surrounding country. The Konigstein rock, which is a fortress seven hundred and seventy-nine feet above the river, is deemed impregnable, and has never yet been taken. It is surrounded on all sides by perpendicular rocks, and so isolated that it cannot be commanded by artillery from any point. Napoleon tried to batter it from Lilienstein, the nearest eminence, but the shot fell short. The treasures of the Saxon government were fortunately placed here, and were thus kept secure. A space of two miles in circumference on the top of the rock, is laid out in fields and gardens, and is finely cultivated. The present garrison numbers only six hundred men.

The scenery on the banks of the Elbe, until within a few miles of Dresden, is of the most enchanting character. Dresden has a population of seventy thousand. It is delightfully situated on the bank of the river, and ranks high among European cities for its attractions, and the number and objects calculated to gratify the intelligent traveller. It is the residence of the king, and has consequently all the accompaniments of a national capital. Its picture gallery has the finest collection of paintings to be found north of the Alps. When Frederic the Great bombarded Dresden, battered down its churches, and laid its streets in ruins, he commanded his troops to keep clear of the picture gallery. Napoleon treated Dresden well, and respected its pictures. The collection is very extensive, consisting of many thousands, one of which, by Raphael, cost forty thousand dollars. It represents the Virgin soaring up to Heaven, bearing in her arms the Divine Child, while Pope Sixtus is represented as gazing upon the scene and trembling with pious awe; opposite to him kneels St. Barbara, and below the group stand two angelic children, their countenances beaming with innocence and intelligence. It is considered the best picture out of Italy.

The Green Vaults, so styled, are a range of vaulted apartments on the ground floor of the royal palace, containing a vast and rich collection of valuables. The Saxon princes in former times were among the richest sovereigns in Europe. This collection is probably the richest in Europe, amounting to many millions in value. The treasures are contained in eight apartments, each surpassing the other, as you reach them successively, in richness and splendor. The objects are so numerous that it is quite impossible to allude to more than a few of the most prominent: A large quantity of gold and silver plate which adorn the banquets of the Saxon palace; vessels formed of agates, precious stones, &c.; goblets composed entirely of cut gems, valued at six hundred dollars each; vessels cut out of solid rock crystal. Among the wonders of the cabinet are the works of Durglinger, an artist formerly employed exclusively by the Electors of Saxony. One piece is called the Court of the Great Mogul, and represents the Emperor Aurungzebe upon his throne, surrounded by his guards and courtiers in the most appropriate costume, in all one hundred and thirty figures of pure gold enamelled. It employed three persons eight years to complete it, and cost eighty-five thousand dollars. Last of all comes the eighth room, in which is one case containing valuables sufficient to pay off the national debt of Saxony, amounting to many millions; comprising the most precious jewels, sapphires, rubies, pearls, diamonds, &c. The diamond decorations of the gala dress of the Elector consist of buttons, collar, sword hilt and scabbard, _all of diamonds_. The most remarkable in the mass of chains, bracelets, orders of the Golden Fleece, and so on, is a green brilliant, weighing forty carats, and of great value.

The Historical Museum of Dresden contains all the weapons, offensive and defensive, of chivalrous warfare, all the trappings and accoutrements of tournaments, and other wild sports of feudal times. Here are whole suits of armor for man and horse, ornamented in great profusion with gold and silver. The entire armory occupies nine long galleries, and excels that of the Tower of London. One suit of armor is covered with reliefs representing the labors of Hercules, and other subjects, in gold and steel.

Among the historical relics in the last apartment are the robes worn by Augustus the Strong at his coronation as King of Poland; the little cocked hat of Peter the Great, and a wooden bowl turned by his own hand; the saddle of red velvet upon which Napoleon rode, the boots he wore in the battle of Dresden, and the satin shoes worn at his coronation.

The bridge over the Elbe here is considered one of the finest of stone in Germany. It is very solid, in order to resist the ice in the spring. There is a bronze crucifix on one of the arches, denoting the part blown up by the French Marshal Davoust in 1813, to cover his retreat to Leipsic. One church here is composed of solid stone to the top of the dome, and is of such solid construction that cannon balls directed against it by Frederic the Great rebounded from its surface without doing the least injury.

XVI.

WITTEMBERG, PRUSSIA, _July 23, 1841_.

We this morning arrived in this interesting town. I say interesting, from historical association only, as the town itself is dull and lifeless, with a population of seven thousand. It has been termed the Protestant Mecca; it was the cradle of the Reformation, as Martin Luther openly engaged here in opposition to the Church of Rome.

After procuring a valet-de-place, we proceeded to the market-place, where, beneath a Gothic canopy of cast iron, is a bronze statue of Luther, inscribed with these words in German: “If it be the work of God, it will endure; if of man, it will perish.”

We next visited the town hall, where are preserved several paintings, among the number one of Luther and one of Melancthon; also the drinking cup of Luther, and several other relics. On passing up the street to visit the ancient Augustine convent, where Luther meditated the change of the religion of Europe, we passed the house of Melancthon, on which are inscribed these words, “_Hier wohnte, lehrte, und starb Melancthon_.”--(Here lived, taught, and died Melancthon.) On arriving at Luther’s cell, we found the old chair and table at which he wrote, and the jug from which he drank. The wall bears the name of Peter the Great, written with his own hand. Outside of the gate of the town is an oak tree surrounded by a railing, marking the spot where Luther burnt publicly the Papal bull, by which Pope Leo X. condemned his doctrines and excommunicated him as an obstinate heretic, in Dec. 1520. Luther and his friend Melancthon are both buried in one church here. Two tablets of bronze inserted in the pavement mark their graves. Here are also the tombs of Frederic the Wise and John the Steadfast, Electors of Saxony, who were great friends of Luther and the Reformation. Against the doors of this church Luther hung up his ninety-five arguments, which condemned the doctrine of Papal indulgence, and which he offered to defend against all comers.

We leave here to-morrow morning for Berlin, the capital of Prussia. I wrote you last from Dresden, and next visited Leipsig, interesting as a commercial place, and celebrated for its memorable battle--the battle of the nations--one of the longest, sternest, and bloodiest actions of the war, and one of the largest battles recorded in history; the number of troops on the side of Bonaparte being one hundred and thirty-six thousand, and on the part of the allies two hundred and thirty thousand--two thousand cannon and eighty thousand horse. It is said that after the battle had raged three days in the vicinity of the city, on the 19th of Oct. 1813, it reached up to the walls, and cannon shot fell in showers in the streets. The castle of Plazenburg, the ancient citadel, is lofty, and from the observatory the guide gave us an accurate description of the position of all the armies. I visited the spot where the bridge was, unfortunately for the French, blown up, whereby twenty-five thousand soldiers were lost or taken. The river Elster runs through the city, and by this mistake many thousands of French, on the retreat, were precipitated, with wagons, cannon, and horses, into the stream. The gallant Pole, Poniatowski, whose tomb I found near the bank of the river, lost his life here. Leipsig contains a population of forty-seven thousand five hundred, and its sale of books forms one of the chief branches of commerce, said to amount to twenty million francs yearly. Three fairs are held here during the year, and while they continue Leipsig is said to be the mart of central Europe, and is visited by foreigners from all quarters, sometimes to the extent of thirty thousand. Then every hotel and lodging-house is filled to overflowing, and temporary booths occupy the streets. The old walls of the city have long since been demolished, and instead of them the city is now encircled with a belt of trees, forming delightful promenades bordered with flowers. It is said that in the year 1834, eighty thousand names of strangers were enrolled on the police books, and during the fair the streets were thronged with Jews, Tyrolese, Persians, Armenians, Turks, and Greeks, mingled together in a masquerade. Our valet took us to a cellar for refreshments, where, according to tradition, the famous magician Dr. Faustus performed his feats, which are represented by rude daubs upon the wall. Goethe has laid in the cellar a scene of the tragedy of Faust. It is said that the poet, as well as his hero, not unfrequently caroused here, while a student.

On leaving Leipsig we took passage for Dessau, the residence of Prince Anhalt Dessau, a separate and distinct principality. There is nothing remarkable on this route except the palace of gardens, at Worlitz, belonging to this prince. The grounds are very extensive and beautifully laid out, as is usually the case with those of the titled nobility--adorned with artificial caves and grottoes, miniature Gothic castles, a temple of Venus, an imitation in miniature of the Pantheon at Rome, lakes, labyrinths, &c. The church and chapel are very pretty; the palace is magnificently arranged, and filled with statuary, paintings, antiquities, &c.; it is only used as a summer retreat. While attending service recently we were struck with the fine vocal music produced by about thirty young boys. On inquiry, I found that singing is a part of Prussian education, and in no country, perhaps, is the system of general knowledge so extended as in Prussia. By law every child, at the age of eight years, must attend school.

In most states, although every man is obliged to serve in the army, a substitute may be had; not so in Prussia; every able-bodied man, from prince to peasant, must serve in person. Three years is the usual time, but as an encouragement for superior education, on the meeting of the board of military examination, young men showing proof of superior education may claim the right of serving only one year. All are liable to duty in case of war. By this system it is said that Prussia can, in a short period, furnish over half a million of men for the defence of its wide-spread frontier.

XVII.

BERLIN, PRUSSIA, _July 30, 1841_.

I arrived in this city the day following my last letter from Wittemberg. Our approach to the capital of Prussia was through a dreary plain of sand, destitute of either beauty or fertility, and differing widely from the rich agricultural country through which I had been travelling. It is surprising that the foundation of a city should have been laid in so uninteresting a spot, and still more surprising that it should have grown to be the capital of a great kingdom.

Frederic the Great, ambitious to have a capital in proportion to his extended dominions, inclosed a vast space with walls, and ordered it to be filled with houses; the consequence is that the streets are very broad, and regularly laid out. One street, called Friedrichstrasse, is two miles long, and has not a foot of descent from one end to the other. Berlin has been termed a city built for effect, all that is exceedingly beautiful being concentrated in one focus. The palaces, museum, arsenal, opera-houses, some of the finest churches, and other magnificent buildings, are quite contiguous. The street on which they stand is at least two hundred feet wide, with four rows of linden trees running the entire length of it. The central grand promenade for pedestrians has rows of trees on each side, then comes the equestrian road on the right and left, with one row of trees on each side, after which are the carriage roads and side walks, on both sides of this great avenue. The river Spree, a small stream which runs through the city, communicates with the Elbe, and by means of canals with the Oder, the Baltic, and the German Sea, and is navigated by boats.

The population of Berlin is three hundred thousand. Owing to the scarcity of stone the city is mostly built of brick, stuccoed and painted, or colored in a variety of ways, which gives it a light and beautiful appearance. Notwithstanding all its disadvantages of situation Berlin is one of the most splendid cities in Europe. Few can show so much architectural splendor as is seen in the colossal palace, the beautiful colonnade of the new museum, and many other buildings. The Brandenburg Gate, one of the principal ornaments of the city, is probably the most splendid portal in Europe, built after the model of the Propylæum at Athens, but larger. The Car of Victory on the top, drawn by three horses, with the goddess in a standing position, was taken to Paris by Napoleon, but the Prussians recovered it after the battle of Waterloo.

The royal palace is of vast size, and gorgeously furnished. One apartment, which is very splendid, and called the Knights’ Hall, has a throne and sideboard covered with massive old plate of gold and silver, large collections of paintings, one large chandelier of solid crystal, the ball suspended from the bottom of which cost twenty-four thousand dollars, and is larger than the crown of my hat. In the attic story of the palace is the Cabinet of Art, occupying several rooms. Among the most prominent objects of the large collection are Japanese and Australian weapons, Chinese collections, cloaks of feathers from the Sandwich Islands, works of art in ivory and gold, vast collections of jewels, a model of a windmill made by Peter the Great with his own hands while working as a ship carpenter in Holland, the robes of the Order of the Garter, given by George IV., and those of the Order of the Holy Ghost, given by Louis XVIII., to the late Prussian king. Some of the relics are entirely national. The bullet that wounded Frederic the Great in the battle of Rossbach in 1760; a wax figure, said to resemble him, as a cast was taken after his death; he is clothed in the same rusty and tarnished uniform he wore on the day of his death; the scabbard of his sword is mended with sealing-wax by his own hand; his books, flute, and cane lay before him on the table, also his pocket-handkerchief, which is ragged and patched, and which he used to the last.

Frederic the Great was certainly a singular character. Dr. Moore says his whole wardrobe consisted of two blue coats faced with red, the lining of one a little torn; two yellow waistcoats, considerably soiled with snuff, and three pairs of yellow breeches. Here is also a glass case containing the stars, orders, and decorations presented to Napoleon by the different sovereigns of Europe, except England. They were taken by the Prussians after the battle of Waterloo, in his carriage, from which he escaped so narrowly that he left his cap behind him, which is also preserved here.

The new museum is liberally thrown open to the public. It contains a very extensive picture gallery; some of the paintings are good originals, but most of them are copies, and in this branch of the arts Berlin bears no comparison to the Italian cities. There are also sculpture galleries, galleries of antiquities, collections of vases, bronzes, &c. The vases amount to one thousand six hundred in number. The ornithological collection in the University is one of the richest and most extensive in Europe, comprising all classes of birds from every quarter of the globe, the collections of Baron von Humboldt and others. The Egyptian museum ranks very high, and is said to be the most curious in Europe. Among the figures are those of various Egyptian deities, with the symbols belonging to each, and worn on the image. Among the mummies are not only those of human beings, but of the animals worshipped by the Egyptians, such as cats, young crocodiles, frogs, and lizards, all embalmed and wrapped in fine cloths. The most interesting object is the contents of the tomb of an Egyptian High Priest, discovered and opened in the Necropolis of Thebes. The body was inclosed in a triple coffin, the work of which is most intricate and extraordinary. All the specimens shown here of the produce of different trades are calculated to give a good idea of the extent of civilization and progress of the arts three thousand years ago in that country.

The Arsenal here is well worthy of a visit, as specimens of the arms and accoutrements used in all parts of Europe are seen in great abundance. Fire-arms used from the first invention of gunpowder to the present time; two leather cannons used by the great Gustavus in the Thirty Years’ War, are shown; many ancient weapons and suits of armor; and against the walls hang upwards of one thousand standards taken during the campaigns that overthrew Napoleon. About five miles from the city is Charlottenburg, a small village on the Spree, made mostly of villas, for the summer residence of the rich, and taverns to accommodate others who resort there from Berlin.

At Charlottenburg is a palace built by Frederic the Great, the grounds about which are exceedingly beautiful, and open to the public, being finely laid out and constantly thronged. Arms of the Spree run through them, and the waters abound with carp as large as shad, which come up to the surface on the ringing of a bell, and are so tame that any one may feed them. The interior of the palace, which may be seen by feeing the Castellan, as he is called, is very interesting, and gorgeous in silver and gold decorations, Gobelin and Prussian tapestry, statuary and paintings. The length of the entire building, furnished complete, is six hundred feet. We were shown the room that Napoleon occupied during his stay here. It had been previously occupied by the queen, but she never would stay there afterwards, but took another apartment. One of the most attractive objects is the beautiful statue of Queen Louisa, said to have been one of the most beautiful and amiable princesses of her day. She is buried within a small Doric temple, at the extremity of a shady walk, in a retired part of the garden. The work is by Rauch, of Berlin, and is not surpassed by any modern work of art. The figure of the queen reposes on a sarcophagus of beautiful white marble, and as Russell describes it, “it is a form and face of the most exquisite beauty, but at the same time a most perfect resemblance.” The expression is not that of cold death, but of undisturbed repose, the hands being modestly folded on the breast, and the attitude easy, graceful, and natural. Only the countenance and part of the neck are bare, the rest of the figure is shrouded in drapery beautifully wrought. There is no inscription, or catalogue of titles, but simply the Prussian eagle at the head and foot of the sarcophagus, with four lions at the corners to support it.

XVIII.

FRANKFORT-ON-THE-MAINE, _Aug. 6, 1841_.

On leaving Berlin our party proceeded to Potsdam, denominated the Prussian Versailles, lying on the bank of the river Havel, about twenty miles from Berlin. It may be called a town of palaces, not only from the four royal residences in and about it, but because the private residences are copied from celebrated edifices. It has a population of thirty-three thousand, including a large garrison. The principal objects that attract travellers are the grounds and extensive palaces; also, Peacock Island, in German, “Pfauen Insel.” This island was the late king’s hobby, and he made it an enchanting spot. The distance of four or five miles from Potsdam is soon accomplished, where the island is reached by a boat. It is beautifully situated in the centre of a lake, and is about three miles in circumference, and what was a wilderness of sand and fir trees, is now converted into the most delightful pleasure grounds, adorned with rare plants, shrubbery, and groves of trees of all varieties. Here is every variety of building which enlivens English or French gardens; fancy Gothic buildings, pavilions, menageries, and animals of all kinds, from the noble lion to the innocent lama, the deer and the elk, running at large. A great variety of birds, from the vulture, eagle, and ostrich, to the owl and parrot, may be seen in their different habitations. The king was engaged twenty years in bringing it to perfection, and it was his favorite retreat during summer. The mounted frigate, presented by William IV. of England to the king, is stationed here in the lake, and its proportions suit well the scenery by which it is surrounded.

We visited Sans Souci, the residence of the king, beautifully situated on the top of a flight of steps like terraces. The terraces are fronted with glass, beneath which grow vines, olives, and orange trees. Frederic the Great, who took great pride in his grounds as well as in his faithful dogs and horses, had a favorite spot of resort at the extremity of the terrace, and just before his death was brought out to bask in the sun. He desired to be buried in this spot, with his favorite animals, but this request was not granted, although the graves of his favorites were shown to us. We saw the remains of this great man in the garrison church, beneath the pulpit, in a plain metal sarcophagus above ground. His sword, which originally lay upon it, was taken by Napoleon; but in place of that there hung on each side the pulpit the standards taken by the Prussian armies from Napoleon.

The new palace, about two miles from Potsdam, was built at enormous cost by Frederic the Great at the end of the Seven Years’ War, by way of bravado, to show that his funds were not exhausted. It contains two hundred apartments. One large room is floored with marble and entirely lined with shells and minerals of all kinds--a very peculiar taste. As usual with these stately palaces, a vast amount of money was lavished in marble, gold and silver, gilding, &c.

On leaving Potsdam we took extra post to Magdeburgh, a distance of seventy miles. It is situated on the Elbe, with a population of fifty-two thousand. It has a fortress of the first class, and owing to its vast extent would require from fifty to seventy-five thousand men. The citadel on the island serves as a state prison. Gen. Lafayette was confined in it. The famous Baron Trenck was also confined in one of the prisons here. In 1552 Magdeburgh was besieged and taken by Maurice, king of Saxony. During the Thirty Years’ War it resisted the army of Wallenstein seven months, but was afterwards taken by the ferocious Tilly, who murdered thirty thousand inhabitants without distinction of sex, and left only one hundred and thirty-nine houses standing. In his despatch he says, “never was victory so complete since the destruction of Jerusalem and Troy.”

The cathedral, one of the noblest Gothic buildings in Germany, built in 1211, and recently repaired by the Prussian government at a cost of _three hundred thousand dollars_, was saved by one Bake, a schoolmate of Tilly. It contains many curiosities of art. At this city we regretted parting with one of our travelling companions, who took a steamer for Hamburgh, to go from thence to London or Amsterdam. My present American companion and myself next proceeded to Cassel, the capital of the Electorate of Hesse-Cassel, one hundred and forty miles from Magdeburgh. In passing through this rich agricultural country I observed, in addition to all the products of our northern country, vast quantities of poppies for the manufacture of oil, and large fields of beets to be made into sugar.

Fences in the interior of this country are unknown. The same may be said of most parts of Austria and Prussia. The farmers cultivate large tracts of land, but live in villages. All the varieties of the products are seen from the road in passing, as the width or front of each growing crop is ordinarily quite narrow on the road, and so arranged in most instances as to extend back in strips as far as the eye can reach.

Cassel, for a town with a population of thirty thousand, contains much to attract the attention of a traveller for a few days. In the Frederic Platz, a very large square, is placed a statue of the Elector Frederic, who was one of the number that elected the Emperor of Germany in former times. To that prince Cassel owes its embellishments and extravagant works. He disgraced himself and his people by trafficking in the lives of his subjects, when he hired them out to the King of Great Britain to fight his battle in America. It is said also that five thousand Hessian troops were hired in England, with the consent of Parliament, to fight against the Pretender in Scotland.

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.

Amsterdam is a large commercial city, with a population of over two hundred thousand, and is one of the most remarkable cities in Europe for its peculiar location, being intersected by various small canals, which divide it into ninety-five islands with two hundred and ninety bridges. Had I not seen Venice, which is still more remarkable, I should have considered it very extraordinary. The entire city, quays and sluices, are all founded on piles, which are driven through the upper stratum of mud and loose sand until they reach the firm sand below. The palace of the king is a large and imposing building of stone, standing upon thirteen thousand six hundred and ninety-five piles. The second day after my arrival a grand fête took place, and towards evening I strolled up the main street, crossing many bridges, to the suburbs of the city, passing through an immense crowd of persons, and among the number I should think there were all of ten thousand females, most of them without bonnets. I seldom attempt a description of costume, but I must here observe that the females in Holland are particularly distinguished for neatness and gracefulness of costume, as well as clearness of complexion. To see such an immense group, very many of whom were domestics, all in tastefully arranged caps and head-dresses, was a novel sight. Numbers have the back of the head encircled by a broad fillet of gold, shaped like the letter U, which confines the hair and terminates on each side of the temple with two long rosettes, also of gold. Over this is worn a cap, or veil, of finest lace, hanging down the neck, with a pair of enormous gold ear-rings. Among the group I discovered many orphan children, who have their particular dresses to distinguish them.

The people of Amsterdam are celebrated for their charitable institutions. One particular costume, for male and female, I observed, was red and black cloth, extending from the shoulders to the feet, which reminded me of the dress of a clown, red one side and black the other; and I could not but pity the wearers, especially young females, who were thus made so conspicuous in the eyes of strangers.

XXI.

ROTTERDAM, _August 30, 1841_.

Well, at last I am in Rotterdam, and I assure you I was heartily glad to reach this city, as one may rest quietly for a few days without seeing extraordinary sights. Rotterdam is a fine commercial city, with a population of seventy-four thousand, and exceedingly novel and interesting to a stranger who has just arrived in the country; but to one who has made the tour of Holland it possesses none of those extraordinary sights which a traveller is in duty bound to see. The remark may appear strange that one becomes tired and exhausted with sights; but in a long line of travel, in visiting cities in rapid succession, where a sort of obligation is imposed upon every good traveller to see all that is remarkable, it becomes laborious.