Part 7 (1/2)
On our way down from the arch, which, with a few crumbling stones is all that remains now of Roland's castle, we pa.s.sed through one of the vineyards for which the banks of this river are so noted. Do you imagine them to be picturesque? They are almost ugly. The vines are planted in regular order and pruned closely. They are not suffered to grow above three feet in height, and each one is fastened to a stout stake until the wood itself becomes self-supporting.
We spent a quiet Sabbath at Rolandseck. There was no church, no church service at either of the hotels. We rested and wrote letters, sitting in the grape arbors of the garden; only a low hedge and narrow, gra.s.s-grown road between us and the river. Down below, the rocks and the island shut out the world; across, the hills rose to the sky, their slopes covered with yellow grain, or dotted with red-roofed farm-houses, while tiny villages had curled up and gone to sleep at their feet. It was impossible to write. The breeze that rippled the yellow water blew away our paper and our thoughts; and when the steamer, puffing, and evidently breathless from stemming the current, touched at the little pier, we left everything and ran out to see the pa.s.sengers disembark. A band played at the railroad station just above our hotel, and the park attached to it swarmed with excursionists during the afternoon. At dusk, when they had all gone, we wandered up the magnificent road which follows the course of the river; built originally by the Romans, and said to extend for a long distance--five hundred miles or more--into Germany, returning with our hands full of wild flowers. When we went on board the steamer, Monday morning, we were closely followed by our Dutch friend and his Malays. They strolled off by themselves, as they seemed always to do; he joined our group under the awning spread over the deck.
An English tourist seized upon him immediately, and when he had disclosed his nationality, proceeded with a glance towards us, to quiz him upon Dutch ways.
”Now, really,” said the tourist, tilting back against the rail in his camp chair, ”how dreadful it must be to live in a country where there are no mountains! nothing but a stretch of flat land, you know. I fancy it would be unendurable.”
”Yes?” was the Dutchman's sole response.
”You still keep up your peculiar customs, I observe from Murray,” the Englishman went on, loftily. ”Your women carry the same old foot-stoves to church, I fancy. They hang up, you know, in every house.”
”Ah!” and the Dutchman only smiled that same incomprehensible smile that had so puzzled us.
”And you smoke constantly,” continued the inquisitor, growing dogmatic; ”a pipe is seldom out of your mouths. Really, you are a nation of perpetual smokers.”
”Yes,” a.s.sented the Dutchman; ”but then--” and here his eyes, and indeed his whole round, rosy face twinkled with irresistible humor, ”_you know we have no mountains_.”
A shout went up from the listeners, and our English acquaintance became at once intensely interested in the scenery.
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”At the word of command they struck the most extraordinary att.i.tudes.” Page 157.]
The sail of half an hour to Coblentz was a continual delight. The rocky mountains rose abruptly from the water, terraced to their peaks with vineyards, or stood back to give place to modest towns and villages that dipped their skirts in the stream. At their wharves we touched for a moment, to make an exchange of pa.s.sengers or baggage. Often from the lesser villages a boat shot out, the oars held by a brown-armed maiden, who boarded us to take, perhaps, a single box or bale, or, it might be, some bearded tourist with sketch-book under his arm. The pa.s.sengers walked the deck, or gathered in groups to eat ices and drink the wines made from the grapes grown in these vineyards, with the pictured maps of the river spread out upon their laps, and the ubiquitous Murray in their hands.
As we neared Coblentz the villages increased as the hills vanished. Each had its point of interest, or monkish legend--the palace of a duke, a bit of crumbling Roman wall rising from the water--something to invest it with a charm. One--Neuwied--is noted for holding harmoniously within its limits, Jews, Moravians, Anabaptists, and Catholics. The Millennium will doubtless begin at Neuwied.
At Coblentz we remained a day, in order to visit the fortress of Ehrenbreitstein. From our windows at the hotel we could look directly across to this grim giant of rock, as well as down upon the bridge of boats which crosses the Rhine here. It was endless amus.e.m.e.nt to watch the approach of the steamers, when, as if impelled by invisible boatmen, a part of the bridge would swing slowly round to make an opening, while the crowd of soldiers, market-women, and towns-people, waiting impatiently, furnished a constant and interesting study.
An hour or two after noon we too crossed the bridge in an open carriage, nearly overcome by the stifling heat, and after pa.s.sing through the village of Ehrenbreitstein, ascended the winding road--a steep ascent, leading under great arches of solid masonry, through ma.s.sive gateways, and shut in by the rock which forms the fortress. At various points, guards of Prussian soldiers, as immovable as the stone under their feet, were stationed. Suddenly in the gloomy silence, as we toiled slowly up, echoed a sharp tramp, tramp, and a line of soldiers filed by in grim silence, each one with a couple of loaves of bread slung by a cord over his shoulder. In a moment another line followed with a quant.i.ty of iron bedsteads, each borne solemnly upon the shoulders of four men. The guards accompanying them were armed, and wore queer, s.h.i.+ning helmets.
Still another company came swinging down to meet us, with fixed, imperturbable countenances, each bearing a towel in one hand, with military precision. They were on their way to the bathing-house upon the bridge.
Scattered about upon the broad esplanade at the summit, or rather arranged in lines upon the breezy, gra.s.s-grown s.p.a.ce, were squads of recruits being drilled. At the word of command they struck the most extraordinary att.i.tudes. Taking a tremendous stride, they endeavored to poise themselves on one foot, while they threw the other leg straight out behind into the air. Being of all sizes, forms, and degrees of grace in movement, the effect, to say the least, was surprising; especially as the most intense silence and seriousness prevailed. A second stride and fling followed, then a third, when a pert young officer, of the bantam species, seized a gun, and strutting to the front, proceeded to ill.u.s.trate the idea more perfectly. At this point our gravity gave way.
A young sergeant, with a stupid but good-natured face, attached himself to us in the capacity of guide. He could speak nothing but German, of which not one of us understood a word. We followed him from point to point, politely attending to all his elaborate explanations, and were surprised to find how many ideas we had finally gained by means of the patient and painful pantomimic accompaniment to his words.
The view from the summit is wonderfully extensive. All the kingdoms of the earth and the glory of them seemed spread out at our feet; and our fat little guide grew fairly red in the face in his efforts to make us comprehend the names of the various points of interest.
When we returned to the carriage the animated jumping-Jacks were still engaged in their remarkable evolutions; and as we came down we had a last glimpse of our Dutch friend and his Malays, who were making the ascent on foot.
The next day, though pa.s.sed upon the beautiful river, was a day of torment. The stream narrowed; the frowning rocks closed in upon us, shutting out every breath of air; the sun beat down upon the water and the low awning over our heads with fiery fury; in a moment of idiocy we answered the call to _table d'hote_, which was served upon deck with a refinement of imbecility just as the climax of the striking scenery approached. For one mortal hour we were wedged in at that table, peering between heads and under the awning which cut off every peak, making frantic attempts to turn in our places, as parties across the table exclaimed over the scenery behind us, and consoling ourselves with reading up the legends in the guide-book held open by the rim of our soup-plates,--of the Seven Sisters, for instance, who were turned into seven stones which stand in the stream to this day, because they refused to smile upon their lovers (fortunately for navigation, maidens in these days are less obdurate); of the bishop who shut his starving peasants into his barn and set fire to it, though his granaries were full, and who, in poetic justice, was afterwards devoured by rats; of the Lurlei siren, who lured men to destruction, and became historical from the individuality of the case; of various maidens bereft of lovers by cruel fathers, and of various lovers bereft of maidens by cruel fate, &c., while storied ruins crowned the crags on every hand, always half hidden under a weight of ivy, and often indistinguishable from the rock on which they seemed to have grown.
At Bingen, which is not especially ”fair” from the river, the precipices drop away, the stream spreads out in nearly twice its former width, and is dotted with islands. At Mayence you may leave the steamer; the beauties of the Rhine are pa.s.sed.
From Mayence we made an excursion to Wiesbaden; then on to Frankfort-on-the-Maine, to rest only a few hours, _doing_ the city hastily and imperfectly; and finally reached Heidelberg at night, in time for _table d'hote_. A talkative young Irishman sat beside us at the table, who spoke five or six languages ”with different degrees of badness,” he informed us; had travelled half the world over, but held in reserve the pleasure of visiting America.
”I have a friend there,” he added, ”though he is in _South_ America.”
”Ah?”
”Yes; at _Mobile_,” he replied. ”He held some office under government for a number of years, but during your recent war--for some reason which I do not understand--he seems to have lost it.”
It did not seem so inexplicable to us.