NIEDER-SELTERS.Havingin various countries drunk so much and heard so much of the celebrated refreshing Selters or Selzer water, I determined one lovely morning to exchange the pleasure of rambling about the woods of Schlangenbad for the self-imposed duty of visiting the brunnen of Nieder-Selters: accordingly, I managed to procure a carriage, and with three post-horses away I trotted, sitting as upright and as full of exuberant enjoyment as our great departed lexicographer in his hack chaise. The macadamized road on which I travelled, with the sight of men and boys sitting by its side, spitefully cracking with slight hammers little stones upon flat big ones, might easily have reminded me of old England; but five women, each carrying on her head sixteen large stone bottles of Schlangenbad water to wash the faces of the ladies of Schwalbach—the dress of three peasants with long pipes in their mouths—a little cart drawn by two cows—the Prince of Saxe Cobourg in a rough carriage pulled by horses without blinkers and in rope harness—an immense mastiff, driving before him to be slaughtered a calf not a week old, and scarcely as high as himself—all these trifling incidents, combined with the magnificent outline of wooded hills which towered above the road, constantly reminded me that I was still under the political roof and in the dominions of “The Duke.”On arriving at Schwalbach, I learned that the remainder of the journey, which was to occupy six hours, was to be performed on roads which, in the English language, are termed so very properly “cross.” Accordingly, passing under the great barren hill appropriated to the Schwein-General of Langen-Schwalbach, we followed for some time the course of a green grassy valley, the herbage of which had just been cut for the second time; and then getting into a country much afflicted with hills, the horses were either straining to ascend them, or suffering equally severely in the descent. In many places the road was hardly as broad as the carriage, and as there was generally a precipice on one side, I might occasionally have felt a little nervous, had it not been for sundry jolts, happily just violent enough to prevent the mind thinking of anything else.Passing the Eisenhammer, a water-mill lifting an immense hammer, which forges iron by its fall (a lion which the water-drinkers of Schwalbach generally visit), I proceeded through the village of Neuhof to Würges, where we changed horses and, what was still more important, bartered an old postilion for a young one. For a considerable time our road ascended, passing through woods and park-like plantations belonging to the Duke of Nassau’s hunting-seat “Die Platte;” at last we broke away from these coverts which had environed us, traversing a vast undulating unenclosed country, furrowed by ravines and deep valleys, many of which we descended and ascended. The principal crops were potatoes, barley, oats, rye, and wheat,—the three former being perfectly green, the two latter completely ripe; and as it happened, from some reason or other, that these sets of crops were generally sown on the same sort of land, it constantly occurred that the entire produce of some hills wore the green dress of spring, while other eminences were as wholly clothed in the rich dusky garments of autumn. The harvest, however, not having commenced, and the villages being, generally speaking, hidden in the ravines, the crops often seemed to be without owners. Descending, however, into valleys, we occasionally passed through several very large villages, which were generally paved, or rather studded with paving-stones; and as the carriage-wheels hopped from one to another, the sensation (being still too fresh in my memory) I had rather decline to describe: suffice it to say, that the painful excitation vividly expressed in my countenance must have formed an odd contrast with the dull, heavy, half-asleep faces, which, as if raised from the grave by the rattling of my springs as well as joints, just showed themselves at the windows, as if to scare me as I passed. From poverty, their thin mountain air and meagre food, the inhabitants of all these villages looked dreadfully wan, and really there was a want of animation among the young people, as well as the old, which it was quite distressing to witness; the streets seemed nearly deserted, while the mud houses, with their unpainted windows, appeared to be as dry and cheerless as their inmates; here and there were to be seen children, with hair resembling in colour and disorder a bunch of flax—but no youthful merriment, no playfulness—in short, they were evidently sapless chips off the old wooden blocks which were still gaping at me from the window-frames.At one of these solemn villages the postilion stopped at a “gasthaus” to bait his horses. Odd as it may sound, it is nevertheless true, that German post-horses have seldom what we should term bridles. Snaffle-bits, ending with Ts instead of rings, being put into their mouths, are hooked (by these Ts) to iron billets in the head-pieces of common stable-halters, by which arrangement, to feed the animals, it is only necessary, without taking them from the carriage, to unhook one end of the bits, which immediately fall from their mouths; a slight trough, on four legs, is then placed before them, and the traveller generally continues, as I did, to sit in his carriage watching the horses voraciously eating up slices of black rye bread.In England, there is no surer recipe known for making a pair of horses suddenly run away with one’s carriage, than by taking off their blinkers to allow them to see it; but though our method decidedly suits us the best, yet in Germany the whole system of managing horses from beginning to end is completely different from ours. Whether there is most of the horse in a German, or of the German in a horse, is a nice point on which people might argue a great deal; but the broad fact really is, that Germans live on more amicable terms with their horses, and understand their dispositions infinitely better, than the English: in short, they treat them as horses, while we act towards them, and drill them, as if they were men; and in case any one should doubt that Germans are better horsemasters than we are, I beg to remind them of what is perfectly well known to the British army—namely, that in the Peninsular war the cavalry horses of the German legion were absolutely fat, while those of our regiments were skin and bone.In a former chapter I have already endeavoured to explain, that instead of reining a horse’s headup, as we do, for draught, the Germans encourage the animal to keep itdown; but besides this, in all their other arrangements they invariably attend to the temper, character, and instinct of the beast. For instance, in harness, they intrust these sensible animals (who are never known to forget what they have once seen) with the free use of their eyes. Their horses see the wheel strike a stone, and they avoid the next one; if they drag the carriage against a post, they again observe the effect; and seeing at all times what is behind them, they know that by kicking they would hurt themselves: when passengers and postilion dismount, from attentive observation, they are as sensible as we are that the draught will suddenly become less, and, consequently, rejoicing at being thus left to themselves, instead of wishing to run away, they invariably are rather disposed to stand still.As soon as, getting tired, or, as we are often too apt to term it, “lazy,” they see the postilion threaten them with his whip, they know perfectly well the limits of his patience, and that after eight, ten, or twelve threats, there will come a blow: as they travel along, one eye is always shrewdly watching the driver—the moment he begins the heavy operation of lighting his pipe, they immediately slacken their pace, knowing, as well as Archimedes could have proved, that he cannot strike fire and them at the same time: every movement in the carriage they remark; and to any accurate observer who meets a German vehicle, it must often be perfectly evident that the poor horses know and feel, even better than himself, that they are drawing a coachman, and three heavy baronesses with their maid, and that to do that on a hot summer’s day is—no joke. When their driver urges them to proceed, he does it by degrees; and they are stopped, not as bipeds, but in the manner quadrupeds would stop themselves.Now, though we all like our own way best, let us for a moment (merely while the horses are feeding) contrast with the above description our English mode of treating a horse.In order to break in the animal to draught, we put a collar round his neck, a crupper under his tail, a pad on his back, a strap round his belly, with traces at his sides, and lest he should see that though these things tickle and pinch, they have not power to do more, the poor intelligent creature is blinded with blinkers; and in this fearful state of ignorance, with a groom or two at his head and another at his side, he is, without his knowledge, fixed to the pole and splinter-bar of a carriage. If he kicks, even at a fly, he suddenly receives a heavy punishment, which he does not comprehend—something has struck him, and has hurt him severely; but, as fear magnifies all danger, so, for aught we know or care, he may fancy that the splinter-bar, which has cut him, is some hostile animal, and expect, when the pole bumps against his legs, to be again assailed in that direction.Admitting that in time he gets accustomed to these phenomena, becoming, what we term, steady in harness, still, to the last hour of his existence, he does not clearly understand what it is that is hampering him, or what is that rattling noise which is always at his heels: the sudden sting of the whip is a pain with which he gets but too well acquainted, yet the “unde derivatur” of the sensation he cannot explain—he neither knows when it is coming, nor where it comes from. If any trifling accident, or even irregularity, occurs—if any little harmless strap, which ought to rest upon his back, happens to fall to his side—the poor, noble, intelligent animal, deprived of his eyesight, the natural lanterns of the mind, is instantly alarmed; and though, from constant heavy draught, he may literally, without metaphor, be on his last legs, yet if his blinkers should happen to fall off, the sight of his own master—of his very own pimple-faced mistress—and of his own fine yellow carriage in motion—would scare him so dreadfully, that off he would probably start, and the more they all pursued him the faster would he fly!I am aware that many of my readers, especially those of the fairer sex, will feel disposed to exclaim—Why admire German horses? Can there be any in creation better fed or warmer clothed than our own? In black and silver harness are they not ornamented nearly as highly as ourselves? Is there any amusement in town which they do not attend? Do we not take them to the Italian Opera, to balls, plays, to hear Paganini, &c.; and don't they often go to two or three routs of a night? Are our horses ever seen standing before vulgar shops? And do they not drive to church every Sunday as regularly as ourselves?Most humbly do I admit the force of these observations; all I persist in asserting is, that horses are foolishly fond of their eyesight—like to wear their heads awkwardly, as Nature has placed them; and that they have bad taste enough to prefer dull German grooms and coachmen to our sharp English ones.As soon as my horses had finished their black bread, all my idle speculations concerning them vanished; the snaffle-bits were put into their mouths—the trough removed—and on we proceeded to a village where we again changed.The features of the country now began to grow larger than ever; and though crops, green and brown, were, as far as the eye could reach, gently waving around me, yet the want of habitations, plantations, and fences gave to the extensive prospect an air of desolation: the picture was perhaps grand, but it wanted foreground; however, this deficiency was soon most delightfully supplied by the identical object I was in search of—namely, the brunnen and establishment of Nieder-Selters, which suddenly appeared on the road-side close before me, scarcely a quarter of a mile from its village.The moment I entered the great gate of the enclosure which, surrounded by a high stone wall, occupies about eight acres of ground, so strange a scene presented itself suddenly to my view, that my first impression was, I had discovered a new world inhabited by brown stone bottles; for in all directions were they to be seen rapidly moving from one part of the establishment to another—standing actually in armies on the ground, or piled in immense layers or strata one above another. Such a profusion and such a confusion of bottles it had never entered human imagination to conceive; and, before I could bring my eyes to stoop to detail, with uplifted hands I stood for several seconds in utter amazement.On approaching a large circular shed, covered with a slated roof, supported by posts, but open on all sides, I found the single brunnen or well from which this highly celebrated water is forwarded to almost every quarter of the globe—to India, the West Indies, the Mediterranean, Paris, London, and to almost every city in Germany. The hole, which was about five feet square, was bounded by a framework of four strong beams mortised together; and the bottom of the shed being boarded, it very much resembled, both in shape and dimensions, one of the hatches in the deck of a ship. A small crane with three arms, to each of which there was suspended a square iron crate or basket, a little smaller than the brunnen, stood about ten feet off; and while peasant girls, with a stone bottle (holding three pints) dangling on every finger of each hand, were rapidly filling two of these crates, which contained seventy bottles, a man turned the third by a winch, until it hung immediately over the brunnen, into which it then rapidly descended. The air in these seventy bottles being immediately displaced by the water, a great bubbling of course ensued; but, in about twenty seconds, this having subsided, the crate was raised; and, while seventy more bottles descended from another arm of the crane, a fresh set of girls curiously carried off these full bottles, one on each finger of each hand, ranging them in several long rows upon a large table or dresser,—also beneath the shed. No sooner were they there, than two men, with surprising activity, put a cork into each; while two drummers, with a long stick in each of their hands hammering them down, appeared as if they were playing upon musical glasses.Another set of young women now instantly carried them off, four and five in each hand, to men who, with sharp knives, sliced off the projecting part of the cork; and this operation being over, the poor jaded bottles were delivered over to women, each of whom actually covered 3000 of them a day with white leather, which they firmly bound with packthread round the corks; and then, without placing the bottles on the ground, they delivered them over to a man seated beside them, who, without any apology, dipped each of their noses into boiling hot rosin; and, before they had recovered from this operation, the Duke of Nassau’s seal was stamped upon them by another man, when off they were hurried, sixteen and twenty at a time, by girls to magazines, where they peacefully remained ready for exportation.Although this series of operations, when related one after another, may sound simple enough, yet it must be kept in mind that all were performed at once; and when it is considered that a three-armed crane was drawing up bottles seventy at a time, from three o'clock in the morning till seven o'clock at night (meal hours excepted), it is evident that, without very excellent arrangement, some of the squads either would be glutted with more work than they could perform, or would stand idle with nothing to do:—no one, therefore, dares to hurry or stop; the machinery, in full motion, has the singular appearance which I have endeavoured to describe; and certainly, the motto of the place might be that of old Goethe’s ring—“Ohne hast, ohne rast.”Having followed a set of bottles from the brunnen to the store, where I left them resting from their labours, I strolled to another part of the establishment, where were empty bottles calmly waiting for their turn to be filled. I here counted twenty-five bins of bottles, each four yards broad, six yards deep, and eight feet high. A number of young girls were carrying thirty-four of them at a time on their heads to an immense trough, which was kept constantly full by a large fountain pipe of beautiful clear fresh water. The bottles on arriving here were filled brimful (as I conceived for the purpose of being washed), and were then ranged in ranks, or rather solid columns, of seven hundred each, there being ten rows of seventy bottles.It being now seven o'clock, a bell rung as a signal for giving over work, and the whole process came suddenly to an end: for a few seconds, the busy labourers (as in a disturbed ant-heap) were seen irregularly hurrying in every direction: but in a very short time, all had vanished. For a few minutes I ruminated in solitude about the premises, and then set out to take up my abode for the night at the village, or rather town, of Nieder-Selters: however, I had no sooner, as I vainly thought, bidden adieu to bottles, than I saw, like Birnam Wood coming to Dunsinane, bottles approaching me in every possible variety of attitude. It appears that all the inhabitants of Nieder-Selters are in the habit of drinking in their houses this refreshing water; but as the brunnen is in requisition by the Duke all day long, it is only before or after work that a private supply can be obtained: no sooner, therefore, does the evening bell ring, than every child in the village is driven out of its house to take empty bottles to the brunnen; and it was this singular-looking legion which was now approaching me. The children really looked as if they were made of bottles; some wore a pyramid of them in baskets on their heads—some were laden with them hanging over their shoulders before and behind—some carried them strapped round their middle—all had their hands full; and little urchins that could scarcely walk were advancing, each hugging in its arms one single bottle. In fact, at Nieder-Selters, “an infant” means a being totally unable to carry a bottle, puberty and manhood are proved by bottles; a strong man brags of the number he can carry; and a superannuation means a being no longer able in this world to bear .... bottles.The road to the brunnen is actually strewed with fragments, and so are the ditches; and when the reader is informed that, besides all he has so patiently heard, bottles are not only expended and exported, but actually aremadeat Nieder-Selters, he must admit that no writer can possibly do justice to that place unless every line of his description contains, at least once, the word .... bottle. The moralists of Nieder-Selters preach on bottles. Life, they say, is a sound bottle, and death a cracked one—thoughtless men are empty bottles—drunken men are leaky ones; and a man highly educated, fit to appear in any country and in any society, is, of course, a bottle corked, rosined, and stamped with the seal of the Duke of Nassau.As soon as I reached the village inn, I found there all the slight accommodation I required: a tolerable dinner soon smoked on the table before me; and, feeling that I had seen quite enough for one day of brown stone bottles, I ventured to order (merely for a change) a long-necked glass one of a vegetable fluid superior to all the mineral water in the world.The following morning, previous to returning to the brunnen, I strolled for some time about the village; and the best analysis I can offer of the Selters water is the plain fact, that the inhabitants of the village, who have drunk it all their lives, are certainly, by many degrees, the healthiest and ruddiest looking peasants I have anywhere met with in the dominions of the Duke of Nassau.This day being a festival, on reaching the brunnen at eleven o'clock I found it entirely deserted—no human being was to be seen: all had been working from three o'clock in the morning till nine, but they were now at church, and were not to return to their labour till twelve. I had, therefore, the whole establishment to myself; and going to the famous brunnen, my first object was to taste its water. On drinking it fresh from the source, I observed that it possessed a strong chalybeate taste, which I had never perceived in receiving it from the bottle. The three iron crates suspended to the arms of the crane were empty, and there was nothing at all upon the wooden dressers which, the evening before, I had seen so busily crowded and surrounded: in the middle of the great square were the stools on which the several cork-covering women had sat; while, at some distance to the left, were the solid columns or regiments of uncorked bottles, which I had seen filled brimful with pure crystal water the evening before. On approaching this brown looking army, I was exceedingly surprised at observing from a distance that several of the bottles were noseless, and I was wondering why such should ever have been filled, when, on getting close to these troops, I perceived, to my utter astonishment, that not only about one-third of them were in the same mutilated state, but that their noses were calmly lying by their sides, supported by the adjoining bottles! What could possibly have been the cause of the fatal disaster which in one single night had so dreadfully disfigured them, I was totally at a loss to imagine: the devastation which had taken place resembled the riddling of an infantry regiment under a heavy fire; yet few of our troops, even at Waterloo, lost so great a proportion of their men as had fallen in twelve hours among these immovable phalanxes of bottles. Had they been corked, one might have supposed that they had exploded, but why nothing but their noses had suffered I really felt quite incompetent to explain.As it is always better honestly to confess one’s ignorance, rather than exist under its torture, with a firm step I walked to the door of the governor of the brunnen; and sending up to him a card, bearing the name under which I travelled, he instantly appeared, politely assuring me that he should have much pleasure in affording any information I desired.Instantly pointing to the noseless soldiers, my instructor was good enough to inform me, that bottles in vast numbers being supplied to the Duke from various manufactories, in order to prove them, they are filled brimful (as I had seen them) with water, and being left in that state for the night, they are the next morning visited by an officer of the Duke, whose wand of office is a thin, long-handled, little hammer, which at the moment happened to be lying before us on the ground.It appears that the two prevailing sins to which stone bottles are prone, are having cracks, and being porous, in either of which cases they, of course, in twelve hours, leak a little.The Duke’s officer, who is judge and jury in his owncourt-yard, carries his own sentences into execution with a rapidity which even our Lord Chancellor himself can only hope eventually to imitate. Glancing his hawk-like eye along each line, the instant he sees a bottle not brimful, without listening to long-winded arguments, he at once decides “that there can be no mistake—that there shall be no mistake;” and thus at one blow or tap of the hammer, off goes the culprit’s nose. “So much for Buckingham!”Feeling quite relieved by this solution of the mystery, I troubled the governor with a few questions, to reply to which he very kindly conducted me to his counting-house, where, in the most liberal and gentlemanlike manner, he gave me all the data I required.The following, which I extracted from the daybook, is a statement showing the number of bottles which were filled for exportation during the year 1832, with the proportionate number filled during each month.LargeSmall.January, 183230125February9,2352,100March304,52995,714April207,88749,562May167,70661,589June155,68814,063July76,08616,388August58,8489,159September27,2169,555October23,5123,297November2,32325December151441,033,662261,521Besides the above, there is a private consumption, amounting, on an average, to very nearly half a million of bottles per annum.It will, I hope, be recollected that by the time a bottle is sealed it has undergone fifteen operations, all performed by different people. The Duke, in his payments, does not enter into these details, but, delivering his own bottles, he gives 17 ½ kreuzers (nearly sixpence) for every hundred, large or small, which are placed, filled, in his magazines. The peasants, therefore, either share their labour and profits among themselves, or the whole of the operations are occasionally performed by the different members of one family; but so much activity is required in constantly stooping and carrying off the bottles, that this work is principally performed by young women of eighteen or nineteen, assembled from all the neighbouring villages; and who, by working from three in the morning till seven at night, can gain a florin a day, or 30 florins a month, Sunday (excepting during prayers) not being, I am sorry to say, at Nieder-Selters, a day of rest.For the bottles themselves the Duke pays 4 ½ florins per cent. for the large ones, and 3 florins per cent. for the small ones. The large bottles, when full, he sells at the brunnen for 13 florins a hundred.His profit, last year, deducting all expenses, appeared to be, as nearly as possible, 50,000 florins; and yet, this brunnen was originally sold to the Duke’s ancestor for a single butt of wine!On coming out of the office, the establishment was all alive again, and the peasants being in their Sunday clothes, the picture was highly coloured. Young women in groups of four and five, with little white or red caps perched on the tops of their heads, from which streamed three or four broad ribands, of different colours, denoting the villages they proceeded from, in various directions, singing as they went, were walking together, heavily laden with bottles. They were dressed in blue petticoats, clean white shifts tucked up above the elbows, with coloured stays laced, or rather half unlaced, in front. Old women, covering the corks with leather, in similar costume, but in colours less gaudy, were displaying an activity much more vigorous than their period of life. Across this party-coloured, well-arranged system, which was as regular in its movements as the planets in their orbits, an officer of the Duke, like a comet, occasionally darted from the office to the brunnen, or from the tiers of empty bottles which had not yet been proved, to the magazine of full ones ready to embark on their travels.In quitting the premises, as I passed the regiments of bottles, an operation was proceeding which I had not before witnessed. Women in wooden shoes were reversing the full bottles; in fact, without driving these brown soldiers from their position, they were making them stand upon their heads instead of upon their heels—the object of this military somerset being to empty them; however, every noseless bottle, water and all, was hurled over a wall, into a bin prepared on purpose to receive them; and the smashing sound of devastation which proceeded from this odd-looking operation it would be very difficult to describe.Having now witnessed about as much as I desired of the lively brunnen of Nieder-Selters, I bade adieu to this well-regulated establishment, feeling certain that its portrait would, in future, re-appear before my mind, in all its vivid colours whensoever and wheresoever I might drink the refreshing, wholesome beverage obtained from its bright, sparkling source. My carriage had long been waiting at the gate: however, having aroused my lumbering and slumbering driver, I retraced my steps, was slowly re-jolted homewards, and it was late before I reached my peaceful abode in the gay, green little valley of Schlangenbad.
Havingin various countries drunk so much and heard so much of the celebrated refreshing Selters or Selzer water, I determined one lovely morning to exchange the pleasure of rambling about the woods of Schlangenbad for the self-imposed duty of visiting the brunnen of Nieder-Selters: accordingly, I managed to procure a carriage, and with three post-horses away I trotted, sitting as upright and as full of exuberant enjoyment as our great departed lexicographer in his hack chaise. The macadamized road on which I travelled, with the sight of men and boys sitting by its side, spitefully cracking with slight hammers little stones upon flat big ones, might easily have reminded me of old England; but five women, each carrying on her head sixteen large stone bottles of Schlangenbad water to wash the faces of the ladies of Schwalbach—the dress of three peasants with long pipes in their mouths—a little cart drawn by two cows—the Prince of Saxe Cobourg in a rough carriage pulled by horses without blinkers and in rope harness—an immense mastiff, driving before him to be slaughtered a calf not a week old, and scarcely as high as himself—all these trifling incidents, combined with the magnificent outline of wooded hills which towered above the road, constantly reminded me that I was still under the political roof and in the dominions of “The Duke.”
On arriving at Schwalbach, I learned that the remainder of the journey, which was to occupy six hours, was to be performed on roads which, in the English language, are termed so very properly “cross.” Accordingly, passing under the great barren hill appropriated to the Schwein-General of Langen-Schwalbach, we followed for some time the course of a green grassy valley, the herbage of which had just been cut for the second time; and then getting into a country much afflicted with hills, the horses were either straining to ascend them, or suffering equally severely in the descent. In many places the road was hardly as broad as the carriage, and as there was generally a precipice on one side, I might occasionally have felt a little nervous, had it not been for sundry jolts, happily just violent enough to prevent the mind thinking of anything else.
Passing the Eisenhammer, a water-mill lifting an immense hammer, which forges iron by its fall (a lion which the water-drinkers of Schwalbach generally visit), I proceeded through the village of Neuhof to Würges, where we changed horses and, what was still more important, bartered an old postilion for a young one. For a considerable time our road ascended, passing through woods and park-like plantations belonging to the Duke of Nassau’s hunting-seat “Die Platte;” at last we broke away from these coverts which had environed us, traversing a vast undulating unenclosed country, furrowed by ravines and deep valleys, many of which we descended and ascended. The principal crops were potatoes, barley, oats, rye, and wheat,—the three former being perfectly green, the two latter completely ripe; and as it happened, from some reason or other, that these sets of crops were generally sown on the same sort of land, it constantly occurred that the entire produce of some hills wore the green dress of spring, while other eminences were as wholly clothed in the rich dusky garments of autumn. The harvest, however, not having commenced, and the villages being, generally speaking, hidden in the ravines, the crops often seemed to be without owners. Descending, however, into valleys, we occasionally passed through several very large villages, which were generally paved, or rather studded with paving-stones; and as the carriage-wheels hopped from one to another, the sensation (being still too fresh in my memory) I had rather decline to describe: suffice it to say, that the painful excitation vividly expressed in my countenance must have formed an odd contrast with the dull, heavy, half-asleep faces, which, as if raised from the grave by the rattling of my springs as well as joints, just showed themselves at the windows, as if to scare me as I passed. From poverty, their thin mountain air and meagre food, the inhabitants of all these villages looked dreadfully wan, and really there was a want of animation among the young people, as well as the old, which it was quite distressing to witness; the streets seemed nearly deserted, while the mud houses, with their unpainted windows, appeared to be as dry and cheerless as their inmates; here and there were to be seen children, with hair resembling in colour and disorder a bunch of flax—but no youthful merriment, no playfulness—in short, they were evidently sapless chips off the old wooden blocks which were still gaping at me from the window-frames.
At one of these solemn villages the postilion stopped at a “gasthaus” to bait his horses. Odd as it may sound, it is nevertheless true, that German post-horses have seldom what we should term bridles. Snaffle-bits, ending with Ts instead of rings, being put into their mouths, are hooked (by these Ts) to iron billets in the head-pieces of common stable-halters, by which arrangement, to feed the animals, it is only necessary, without taking them from the carriage, to unhook one end of the bits, which immediately fall from their mouths; a slight trough, on four legs, is then placed before them, and the traveller generally continues, as I did, to sit in his carriage watching the horses voraciously eating up slices of black rye bread.
In England, there is no surer recipe known for making a pair of horses suddenly run away with one’s carriage, than by taking off their blinkers to allow them to see it; but though our method decidedly suits us the best, yet in Germany the whole system of managing horses from beginning to end is completely different from ours. Whether there is most of the horse in a German, or of the German in a horse, is a nice point on which people might argue a great deal; but the broad fact really is, that Germans live on more amicable terms with their horses, and understand their dispositions infinitely better, than the English: in short, they treat them as horses, while we act towards them, and drill them, as if they were men; and in case any one should doubt that Germans are better horsemasters than we are, I beg to remind them of what is perfectly well known to the British army—namely, that in the Peninsular war the cavalry horses of the German legion were absolutely fat, while those of our regiments were skin and bone.
In a former chapter I have already endeavoured to explain, that instead of reining a horse’s headup, as we do, for draught, the Germans encourage the animal to keep itdown; but besides this, in all their other arrangements they invariably attend to the temper, character, and instinct of the beast. For instance, in harness, they intrust these sensible animals (who are never known to forget what they have once seen) with the free use of their eyes. Their horses see the wheel strike a stone, and they avoid the next one; if they drag the carriage against a post, they again observe the effect; and seeing at all times what is behind them, they know that by kicking they would hurt themselves: when passengers and postilion dismount, from attentive observation, they are as sensible as we are that the draught will suddenly become less, and, consequently, rejoicing at being thus left to themselves, instead of wishing to run away, they invariably are rather disposed to stand still.
As soon as, getting tired, or, as we are often too apt to term it, “lazy,” they see the postilion threaten them with his whip, they know perfectly well the limits of his patience, and that after eight, ten, or twelve threats, there will come a blow: as they travel along, one eye is always shrewdly watching the driver—the moment he begins the heavy operation of lighting his pipe, they immediately slacken their pace, knowing, as well as Archimedes could have proved, that he cannot strike fire and them at the same time: every movement in the carriage they remark; and to any accurate observer who meets a German vehicle, it must often be perfectly evident that the poor horses know and feel, even better than himself, that they are drawing a coachman, and three heavy baronesses with their maid, and that to do that on a hot summer’s day is—no joke. When their driver urges them to proceed, he does it by degrees; and they are stopped, not as bipeds, but in the manner quadrupeds would stop themselves.
Now, though we all like our own way best, let us for a moment (merely while the horses are feeding) contrast with the above description our English mode of treating a horse.
In order to break in the animal to draught, we put a collar round his neck, a crupper under his tail, a pad on his back, a strap round his belly, with traces at his sides, and lest he should see that though these things tickle and pinch, they have not power to do more, the poor intelligent creature is blinded with blinkers; and in this fearful state of ignorance, with a groom or two at his head and another at his side, he is, without his knowledge, fixed to the pole and splinter-bar of a carriage. If he kicks, even at a fly, he suddenly receives a heavy punishment, which he does not comprehend—something has struck him, and has hurt him severely; but, as fear magnifies all danger, so, for aught we know or care, he may fancy that the splinter-bar, which has cut him, is some hostile animal, and expect, when the pole bumps against his legs, to be again assailed in that direction.
Admitting that in time he gets accustomed to these phenomena, becoming, what we term, steady in harness, still, to the last hour of his existence, he does not clearly understand what it is that is hampering him, or what is that rattling noise which is always at his heels: the sudden sting of the whip is a pain with which he gets but too well acquainted, yet the “unde derivatur” of the sensation he cannot explain—he neither knows when it is coming, nor where it comes from. If any trifling accident, or even irregularity, occurs—if any little harmless strap, which ought to rest upon his back, happens to fall to his side—the poor, noble, intelligent animal, deprived of his eyesight, the natural lanterns of the mind, is instantly alarmed; and though, from constant heavy draught, he may literally, without metaphor, be on his last legs, yet if his blinkers should happen to fall off, the sight of his own master—of his very own pimple-faced mistress—and of his own fine yellow carriage in motion—would scare him so dreadfully, that off he would probably start, and the more they all pursued him the faster would he fly!
I am aware that many of my readers, especially those of the fairer sex, will feel disposed to exclaim—Why admire German horses? Can there be any in creation better fed or warmer clothed than our own? In black and silver harness are they not ornamented nearly as highly as ourselves? Is there any amusement in town which they do not attend? Do we not take them to the Italian Opera, to balls, plays, to hear Paganini, &c.; and don't they often go to two or three routs of a night? Are our horses ever seen standing before vulgar shops? And do they not drive to church every Sunday as regularly as ourselves?
Most humbly do I admit the force of these observations; all I persist in asserting is, that horses are foolishly fond of their eyesight—like to wear their heads awkwardly, as Nature has placed them; and that they have bad taste enough to prefer dull German grooms and coachmen to our sharp English ones.
As soon as my horses had finished their black bread, all my idle speculations concerning them vanished; the snaffle-bits were put into their mouths—the trough removed—and on we proceeded to a village where we again changed.
The features of the country now began to grow larger than ever; and though crops, green and brown, were, as far as the eye could reach, gently waving around me, yet the want of habitations, plantations, and fences gave to the extensive prospect an air of desolation: the picture was perhaps grand, but it wanted foreground; however, this deficiency was soon most delightfully supplied by the identical object I was in search of—namely, the brunnen and establishment of Nieder-Selters, which suddenly appeared on the road-side close before me, scarcely a quarter of a mile from its village.
The moment I entered the great gate of the enclosure which, surrounded by a high stone wall, occupies about eight acres of ground, so strange a scene presented itself suddenly to my view, that my first impression was, I had discovered a new world inhabited by brown stone bottles; for in all directions were they to be seen rapidly moving from one part of the establishment to another—standing actually in armies on the ground, or piled in immense layers or strata one above another. Such a profusion and such a confusion of bottles it had never entered human imagination to conceive; and, before I could bring my eyes to stoop to detail, with uplifted hands I stood for several seconds in utter amazement.
On approaching a large circular shed, covered with a slated roof, supported by posts, but open on all sides, I found the single brunnen or well from which this highly celebrated water is forwarded to almost every quarter of the globe—to India, the West Indies, the Mediterranean, Paris, London, and to almost every city in Germany. The hole, which was about five feet square, was bounded by a framework of four strong beams mortised together; and the bottom of the shed being boarded, it very much resembled, both in shape and dimensions, one of the hatches in the deck of a ship. A small crane with three arms, to each of which there was suspended a square iron crate or basket, a little smaller than the brunnen, stood about ten feet off; and while peasant girls, with a stone bottle (holding three pints) dangling on every finger of each hand, were rapidly filling two of these crates, which contained seventy bottles, a man turned the third by a winch, until it hung immediately over the brunnen, into which it then rapidly descended. The air in these seventy bottles being immediately displaced by the water, a great bubbling of course ensued; but, in about twenty seconds, this having subsided, the crate was raised; and, while seventy more bottles descended from another arm of the crane, a fresh set of girls curiously carried off these full bottles, one on each finger of each hand, ranging them in several long rows upon a large table or dresser,—also beneath the shed. No sooner were they there, than two men, with surprising activity, put a cork into each; while two drummers, with a long stick in each of their hands hammering them down, appeared as if they were playing upon musical glasses.
Another set of young women now instantly carried them off, four and five in each hand, to men who, with sharp knives, sliced off the projecting part of the cork; and this operation being over, the poor jaded bottles were delivered over to women, each of whom actually covered 3000 of them a day with white leather, which they firmly bound with packthread round the corks; and then, without placing the bottles on the ground, they delivered them over to a man seated beside them, who, without any apology, dipped each of their noses into boiling hot rosin; and, before they had recovered from this operation, the Duke of Nassau’s seal was stamped upon them by another man, when off they were hurried, sixteen and twenty at a time, by girls to magazines, where they peacefully remained ready for exportation.
Although this series of operations, when related one after another, may sound simple enough, yet it must be kept in mind that all were performed at once; and when it is considered that a three-armed crane was drawing up bottles seventy at a time, from three o'clock in the morning till seven o'clock at night (meal hours excepted), it is evident that, without very excellent arrangement, some of the squads either would be glutted with more work than they could perform, or would stand idle with nothing to do:—no one, therefore, dares to hurry or stop; the machinery, in full motion, has the singular appearance which I have endeavoured to describe; and certainly, the motto of the place might be that of old Goethe’s ring—
“Ohne hast, ohne rast.”
Having followed a set of bottles from the brunnen to the store, where I left them resting from their labours, I strolled to another part of the establishment, where were empty bottles calmly waiting for their turn to be filled. I here counted twenty-five bins of bottles, each four yards broad, six yards deep, and eight feet high. A number of young girls were carrying thirty-four of them at a time on their heads to an immense trough, which was kept constantly full by a large fountain pipe of beautiful clear fresh water. The bottles on arriving here were filled brimful (as I conceived for the purpose of being washed), and were then ranged in ranks, or rather solid columns, of seven hundred each, there being ten rows of seventy bottles.
It being now seven o'clock, a bell rung as a signal for giving over work, and the whole process came suddenly to an end: for a few seconds, the busy labourers (as in a disturbed ant-heap) were seen irregularly hurrying in every direction: but in a very short time, all had vanished. For a few minutes I ruminated in solitude about the premises, and then set out to take up my abode for the night at the village, or rather town, of Nieder-Selters: however, I had no sooner, as I vainly thought, bidden adieu to bottles, than I saw, like Birnam Wood coming to Dunsinane, bottles approaching me in every possible variety of attitude. It appears that all the inhabitants of Nieder-Selters are in the habit of drinking in their houses this refreshing water; but as the brunnen is in requisition by the Duke all day long, it is only before or after work that a private supply can be obtained: no sooner, therefore, does the evening bell ring, than every child in the village is driven out of its house to take empty bottles to the brunnen; and it was this singular-looking legion which was now approaching me. The children really looked as if they were made of bottles; some wore a pyramid of them in baskets on their heads—some were laden with them hanging over their shoulders before and behind—some carried them strapped round their middle—all had their hands full; and little urchins that could scarcely walk were advancing, each hugging in its arms one single bottle. In fact, at Nieder-Selters, “an infant” means a being totally unable to carry a bottle, puberty and manhood are proved by bottles; a strong man brags of the number he can carry; and a superannuation means a being no longer able in this world to bear .... bottles.
The road to the brunnen is actually strewed with fragments, and so are the ditches; and when the reader is informed that, besides all he has so patiently heard, bottles are not only expended and exported, but actually aremadeat Nieder-Selters, he must admit that no writer can possibly do justice to that place unless every line of his description contains, at least once, the word .... bottle. The moralists of Nieder-Selters preach on bottles. Life, they say, is a sound bottle, and death a cracked one—thoughtless men are empty bottles—drunken men are leaky ones; and a man highly educated, fit to appear in any country and in any society, is, of course, a bottle corked, rosined, and stamped with the seal of the Duke of Nassau.
As soon as I reached the village inn, I found there all the slight accommodation I required: a tolerable dinner soon smoked on the table before me; and, feeling that I had seen quite enough for one day of brown stone bottles, I ventured to order (merely for a change) a long-necked glass one of a vegetable fluid superior to all the mineral water in the world.
The following morning, previous to returning to the brunnen, I strolled for some time about the village; and the best analysis I can offer of the Selters water is the plain fact, that the inhabitants of the village, who have drunk it all their lives, are certainly, by many degrees, the healthiest and ruddiest looking peasants I have anywhere met with in the dominions of the Duke of Nassau.
This day being a festival, on reaching the brunnen at eleven o'clock I found it entirely deserted—no human being was to be seen: all had been working from three o'clock in the morning till nine, but they were now at church, and were not to return to their labour till twelve. I had, therefore, the whole establishment to myself; and going to the famous brunnen, my first object was to taste its water. On drinking it fresh from the source, I observed that it possessed a strong chalybeate taste, which I had never perceived in receiving it from the bottle. The three iron crates suspended to the arms of the crane were empty, and there was nothing at all upon the wooden dressers which, the evening before, I had seen so busily crowded and surrounded: in the middle of the great square were the stools on which the several cork-covering women had sat; while, at some distance to the left, were the solid columns or regiments of uncorked bottles, which I had seen filled brimful with pure crystal water the evening before. On approaching this brown looking army, I was exceedingly surprised at observing from a distance that several of the bottles were noseless, and I was wondering why such should ever have been filled, when, on getting close to these troops, I perceived, to my utter astonishment, that not only about one-third of them were in the same mutilated state, but that their noses were calmly lying by their sides, supported by the adjoining bottles! What could possibly have been the cause of the fatal disaster which in one single night had so dreadfully disfigured them, I was totally at a loss to imagine: the devastation which had taken place resembled the riddling of an infantry regiment under a heavy fire; yet few of our troops, even at Waterloo, lost so great a proportion of their men as had fallen in twelve hours among these immovable phalanxes of bottles. Had they been corked, one might have supposed that they had exploded, but why nothing but their noses had suffered I really felt quite incompetent to explain.
As it is always better honestly to confess one’s ignorance, rather than exist under its torture, with a firm step I walked to the door of the governor of the brunnen; and sending up to him a card, bearing the name under which I travelled, he instantly appeared, politely assuring me that he should have much pleasure in affording any information I desired.
Instantly pointing to the noseless soldiers, my instructor was good enough to inform me, that bottles in vast numbers being supplied to the Duke from various manufactories, in order to prove them, they are filled brimful (as I had seen them) with water, and being left in that state for the night, they are the next morning visited by an officer of the Duke, whose wand of office is a thin, long-handled, little hammer, which at the moment happened to be lying before us on the ground.
It appears that the two prevailing sins to which stone bottles are prone, are having cracks, and being porous, in either of which cases they, of course, in twelve hours, leak a little.
The Duke’s officer, who is judge and jury in his owncourt-yard, carries his own sentences into execution with a rapidity which even our Lord Chancellor himself can only hope eventually to imitate. Glancing his hawk-like eye along each line, the instant he sees a bottle not brimful, without listening to long-winded arguments, he at once decides “that there can be no mistake—that there shall be no mistake;” and thus at one blow or tap of the hammer, off goes the culprit’s nose. “So much for Buckingham!”
Feeling quite relieved by this solution of the mystery, I troubled the governor with a few questions, to reply to which he very kindly conducted me to his counting-house, where, in the most liberal and gentlemanlike manner, he gave me all the data I required.
The following, which I extracted from the daybook, is a statement showing the number of bottles which were filled for exportation during the year 1832, with the proportionate number filled during each month.
LargeSmall.January, 183230125February9,2352,100March304,52995,714April207,88749,562May167,70661,589June155,68814,063July76,08616,388August58,8489,159September27,2169,555October23,5123,297November2,32325December151441,033,662261,521
Besides the above, there is a private consumption, amounting, on an average, to very nearly half a million of bottles per annum.
It will, I hope, be recollected that by the time a bottle is sealed it has undergone fifteen operations, all performed by different people. The Duke, in his payments, does not enter into these details, but, delivering his own bottles, he gives 17 ½ kreuzers (nearly sixpence) for every hundred, large or small, which are placed, filled, in his magazines. The peasants, therefore, either share their labour and profits among themselves, or the whole of the operations are occasionally performed by the different members of one family; but so much activity is required in constantly stooping and carrying off the bottles, that this work is principally performed by young women of eighteen or nineteen, assembled from all the neighbouring villages; and who, by working from three in the morning till seven at night, can gain a florin a day, or 30 florins a month, Sunday (excepting during prayers) not being, I am sorry to say, at Nieder-Selters, a day of rest.
For the bottles themselves the Duke pays 4 ½ florins per cent. for the large ones, and 3 florins per cent. for the small ones. The large bottles, when full, he sells at the brunnen for 13 florins a hundred.
His profit, last year, deducting all expenses, appeared to be, as nearly as possible, 50,000 florins; and yet, this brunnen was originally sold to the Duke’s ancestor for a single butt of wine!
On coming out of the office, the establishment was all alive again, and the peasants being in their Sunday clothes, the picture was highly coloured. Young women in groups of four and five, with little white or red caps perched on the tops of their heads, from which streamed three or four broad ribands, of different colours, denoting the villages they proceeded from, in various directions, singing as they went, were walking together, heavily laden with bottles. They were dressed in blue petticoats, clean white shifts tucked up above the elbows, with coloured stays laced, or rather half unlaced, in front. Old women, covering the corks with leather, in similar costume, but in colours less gaudy, were displaying an activity much more vigorous than their period of life. Across this party-coloured, well-arranged system, which was as regular in its movements as the planets in their orbits, an officer of the Duke, like a comet, occasionally darted from the office to the brunnen, or from the tiers of empty bottles which had not yet been proved, to the magazine of full ones ready to embark on their travels.
In quitting the premises, as I passed the regiments of bottles, an operation was proceeding which I had not before witnessed. Women in wooden shoes were reversing the full bottles; in fact, without driving these brown soldiers from their position, they were making them stand upon their heads instead of upon their heels—the object of this military somerset being to empty them; however, every noseless bottle, water and all, was hurled over a wall, into a bin prepared on purpose to receive them; and the smashing sound of devastation which proceeded from this odd-looking operation it would be very difficult to describe.
Having now witnessed about as much as I desired of the lively brunnen of Nieder-Selters, I bade adieu to this well-regulated establishment, feeling certain that its portrait would, in future, re-appear before my mind, in all its vivid colours whensoever and wheresoever I might drink the refreshing, wholesome beverage obtained from its bright, sparkling source. My carriage had long been waiting at the gate: however, having aroused my lumbering and slumbering driver, I retraced my steps, was slowly re-jolted homewards, and it was late before I reached my peaceful abode in the gay, green little valley of Schlangenbad.
THE MONASTERY OF EBERBACH.Exactlyat the appointed moment, Luy with his favourite ass, Katherinchen, appeared at the door of the new Bad-Haus; the day, overcast with clouds, was quite cool, and, under such favourable auspices, starting at twelve o'clock, in less than a hundred yards we were all hidden in the immense forest which encircles that portion of the duchy of Nassau which looks down upon the Maine and the Rhine. For about an hour, the ass, who after the second turn seemed to be perfectly sensible where she was carrying me, patiently threaded her way along narrow paths, which, constantly crossing each other at various angles, seemed sufficient to puzzle even the brain of a philosopher: however, although human intellect is said to be always on the march, yet we often find brute instinct far before it; and certainly it did appear that Katherinchen’s knowledge of the carte du pays of Nassau was equal almost to that of “The Duke” himself. Sometimes we suddenly came to tracks of wheels which seemed to have been formed by carriages that had not only dropped from, but had returned back to, the clouds, for they beganà proposto nothing, and vanished in an equally unaccountable manner. Sometimes we came to patches bare of timber, except here and there an old oak left on purpose to supply acorns for the swine; then again we followed a path which seemed only to belong to deer, being so narrow that we were occasionally obliged to force our way through the bushes; at last, all of a sudden, I unexpectedly found myself on the very brink of a most picturesque and precipitous valley.Close above me, standing proudly on its rock, and pointing to a heavy white cloud which happened at the moment to be passing over it, was the great pillar or tower of Sharfenstein, a castle formerly the residence of the bishops of Mainz. The village of Kiedrich lay crouching at a considerable depth beneath, the precipitous bank which connected us with it being a vineyard, in which every here and there were seen flights of rough stone steps, to enable the peasants to climb to their work. By a rocky path, about a foot or nine inches broad, Katherinchen, with Luy following as if tied to her tail, diagonally descended through this grape garden, until we at last reached the village mill, the wheel of which I had long observed indolently turning under a stream of water scarcely heavy enough for its purpose. The little village of Kiedrich, as I rode by it, appeared to be a confused congregation of brown hovels and green gardens, excepting a large slated mansion of the Baron von Ritter, whose tower of Sharfenstein now seemed in the clouds, as if to draw the lightning from the village; and almost breaking my neck to look up to it, I could not help feeling, as I turned towards the east, how proud its laird must be at seeing every morning its gigantic shadow lying across the valley, then paying its diurnal visit to every habitation, thus eclipsing for a few moments, from each vassal, even the sun in the heavens.After passing Kiedrich, I again entered the forest, and for above an hour there was little to be seen except the noble trees which encompassed me; but the mind soon gets accustomed to ever so short a tether, and though I could seldom see fifty yards, yet within that distance there existed always plenty of minute objects to interest me. The foliage of the beeches shone beautifully clear and brilliant, and there were new shoots, which, being lighter in colour than the old, had much the appearance of the autumnal tint, yet when the error was discovered, one gladly acknowledged that youth had been mistaken for age. The forest now suddenly changed from beech trees into an army of oaks, which seemed to be, generally speaking, about fifty years of age; among them, however, there stood here and there a few weather-beaten veterans, who had survived the race of comrades with whom they had once flourished; but we must drop the military metaphor, for their hearts were gone—their bodies had mouldered away—nothing but one side was left—in fact, they were more like sentry-boxes than sentinels, and yet, in this decayed state, they were decked with leaves as cheerfully as the rest. In this verdant picture, there was one pale object which, for a few moments, as I passed it, particularly attracted my attention; it was an immense oak, which had been struck dead by lightning; it had been, and indeed still was, the tallest to be seen in the forest, and pride and presumption had apparently drawn it to its fate. Every leaf, every twig, every small branch was gone; barkless—blasted—and blanched—its limbs seemed stretched into the harshest outlines; a human corpse could not form a greater contrast with a living man, than this tree did with the soft green foliage waving around it: it stood stark—stiff—jagged as the lightning itself; and as its forked, sapless branches pointed towards the sky, it seemed as if no one could dare pass it without secretly feeling that there exists a power which can annihilate as well as create, and that what the fool said in his heart—was wrong! I, however, had not much time for this sort of reflection, for whenever Katherinchen, coming to two paths, selected the right one, Luy from behind was heard loudly applauding her sagacity, which he had previously declared to be superior to that of all the asses in Nassau—and yet, Luy, in his more humble department, deserved quite as much praise as Katherinchen herself.He was a slender, intelligent, active man, of about thirty, dressed in a blue smock frock, girded round the middle by the buff Nassau belt: and though, from some cause or other, which he could never satisfactorily account for, his mouth always smelt of rum, yet he was never at a loss—always ready for an expedition, and foot-sore or not, the day seemed never long enough to tire him. The fellow was naturally of an enterprising disposition, and the winters in Nassau being long and cheerless, it occurred to Luy on his march, that were he with Katherinchen and his other two asses to go to England (of which he had only heard that it was the richest country under the sun), they would no doubt there be constantly employed for the whole twelvemonth, instead of only finding lady and gentleman riders at Schlangenbad for a couple of months in the year. His project appeared to himself a most brilliant one, and though I could not enter into it quite as warmly as he did (indeed I almost ruined his hopes by merely hinting that our sea, which he had never heard of, might possibly object to his driving asses from Schlangenbad to London), yet I inwardly felt that poor Luy’s speculation had quite as sound a foundation, displayed quite as much knowledge of the world, and had infinitely less roguery in it, than the bubble projects of more civilized countries, which have too often eventually turned out to be nothing more nor less than ass-driving with a vengeance.After winding my way through the trees for a considerable time, inclining gently to the left, I suddenly saw close before me, at the bottom of a most sequestered valley, the object of my journey,—namely, the very ancient monastery ofEberbach. The sylvan loveliness, and the peaceful retirement of this spot, I strongly feel it is quite impossible to describe. Almost surrounded by hills or rather mountains, clothed with forest trees, one does not expect to find at the bottom of such a valley an immense solitary building, which in size and magnificence not only corresponds with the bold features of the country, but seems worthy of a place in any of the largest capitals of Europe.The irregular building, with its dome, spires, statues, and high slated roofs, looks like the palace of some powerful king; and yet the monarch has apparently no subjects but the forest trees, which on all sides almost touch the architecture, and even closely environ the garden walls.A spot better suited to any being or race of beings who wished to say to the world “Fare thee well! and if for ever, still for ever fare thee well!” could scarcely be met with on its vast circumference; and certainly if it were possible for the vegetable creation to compensate a man for losing the society of his fellow-creatures, the woods of Eberbach would, in a high degree, afford him that consolation. A more lovely and romantic situation for a monastery could not have existed; yet I should have wondered how it could possibly have been discovered, had not its history most clearly explained that marvel.In the year 1131, St. Bernhard, the famous preacher of the crusade (whose followers eventually possessed, merely in the Rhine-gau, six monastic establishments—namely, Tiefenthal, Gottesthal, Eberbach, Eibinger, Nothgottes, and Marienhausen), was attacked by a holy itch, or irresistible determination to erect a monastery; but not knowing where to drop the foundation-stone, he consulted, it is said, a wild boar, on this important subject. The sagacious creature shrewdly listened to the human being who addressed it; and a mysterious meeting being agreed upon, he silently grubbed with his snout, the valley of Eberbach, lines marking out the foundation of the building; and certainly such a lovely stye, for men basking in sunshine, to snore away their existence, no animal but a pig would ever have thought of!St. Bernhard, highly approving of the boar’s taste, employed the best architects to carry his plan into execution; and sparing no expense, a magnificent cathedral—a large palace, with a monastery, connected together by colonnades, as well as ornamented in various places with the image of a pig, its founder—were quickly reared upon the spot; and when all was completed, monks were brought to the abode, and the holy hive, for many centuries, was heard buzzing in the wild mountains which surrounded it: however, in the year 1803, the Duke of Nassau took violent possession of its honey, and its inmates were thus rudely shaken from their cells. Three or four of the monks, of this once wealthy establishment, are all that now remain in existence, and their abode has ever since been used partly as a government prison, and partly as a public asylum for lunatics.Before entering the great gate, which was surmounted by colossal figures of the Virgin Mary, St. John, and the great St. Bernhard himself, I was advised by my cicerone, Luy, to go to some grotto he kept raving about; and, as Katerinchen’s nose also seemed placidly to point the same way, I left the monastery, and through a plantation of very fine oaks, which were growing about twenty feet asunder, we ascended, by zigzags, a hill surmounted by a beautiful plantation of firs; and the moment I reached the summit, there suddenly flashed upon me a view of the Rhine, which, without any exception, I should say, is the finest I have witnessed in this country. Uninterrupted by anything but its own long, narrow islands, I beheld the course of the river, from Johannisburg to Mainz, which two points formed, from the grotto where I stood, an angle of about 120 degrees. Between me and the water, lay, basking in sunshine, the Rhine-gau, covered with vineyards, or surrounded by large patches of corn, which were evidently just ready for the sickle; but the harvest not having actually commenced, the only moving objects in the picture were young women with white handkerchiefs on their heads, busily pruning the vines; and the Coln, or, as it might more properly be termed, theEnglishsteam-boat, which, immediately before me, was gliding against the stream towards Mainz. On the opposite side of the Rhine, an immense country, highly cultivated, but without a fence, was to be seen.Turning my back upon this noble prospect, the monastery lay immediately beneath me, so completely surrounded by the forest, that it looked as if, ready built, it had been dropped from heaven upon its site.A more noble-looking residence could hardly be imagined, and the zigzag walks and plantations of fir imparted to it a gentlemanlike appearance, which I could not sufficiently admire; yet, notwithstanding the rural beauty of the place, I felt within me a strong emotion of pity for those poor, forlorn, misguided beings, whose existence had been uselessly squandered in such mistaken seclusion; and I could not help fancying how acutely, from the spot on which I stood, they might have compared the moral loneliness of their mansion, with the natural joy and loveliness of that river scenery, from which their relentless mountain had severed them: indeed, I hope my reader will not think an old man too Anacreontic for saying, that if any thing in this world could penetrate the sackcloth garment of a monk, “and wring his bosom,” it would be the sight of what I had just turned my back upon—namely, a vineyard full of women! That the fermentation of the grape was intended to cheer decrepitude, and that the affections of a softer sex were made to brighten the zenith of mid-day life, are truths which, within the walls of a convent or a monastery, it must have been most exquisite torture to reflect upon.As I descended from the grotto, I saw beneath me, entering the great gate of the building, half a dozen carts laden with wood, each drawn by six prisoners. None being in irons, and the whole gang being escorted by a single soldier in the Nassau uniform, I was at first surprised,—why, when they penetrated the forest, they did not all run away! However, fear of punishment held them together: there being no large cities in the duchy, they had no where to run, but to their own homes, where they would instantly have been recaptured; and though, to a stranger like myself, the forest seemed to offer them protection, yet it was certain death by starvation to remain in it.On entering the great square, I found it would be necessary to apply to the commandant of the establishment for permission to view it. I accordingly waited upon him, and was agreeably surprised at being politely informed by him, in English, that he would be proud and most happy to attend me. He was a fine, erect, soldierlike-looking man, of about forty, seventeen years of which he had reigned in this valley, over prisoners and lunatics; the average number of the former being 250, and of the latter about 100.As I was following him along some very handsome cloisters, I observed, hanging against a wall, twenty-five pictures in oil, of monks, all dressed in the same austere costume, and in features as in dress so much resembling each other, that the only apparent distinction between them was the name of each individual, whose barren, useless existence was thus intended to be commemorated beyond the narrow grave which contained him. Ascending a stone staircase, I now came to the lower division of the prison, one half being appropriated to women, and the other to men.Although I had been for the whole day enjoying pure fresh air, yet the establishment was so exceedingly clean, that there was no smell of any sort to offend me. The monks’ cells had in many places been thrown by threes into large rooms for tailors, weavers, carpenters, shoemakers, &c., &c.,—each of these trades working separately, under the direction of one overseer. In all these chambers every window was wide open, the walls were white-washed, and the blanched floors were without a stain; indeed, this excessive cleanliness, although highly praised by me, and exceedingly attractive to any English traveller, probably forms no small part of the punishment of the prison, for there is nothing that practically teases dirty people more than to inflict upon them foreign habits of cleanliness. The women’s rooms were similarly arranged, and the same cleanliness and industry insisted upon; while, for younger culprits, there was an excellent school, where they were daily taught religious singing, reading, writing, arithmetic, and weaving. Having finished with this floor, I mounted to the upper story, where, in solitary cells, were confined patients who had relapsed, or, in plainer terms, culprits who had been convicted a second time of the same offence.Many of these unfortunate people were undergoing a sentence of three, four, and five years’ imprisonment; and to visit them, as I did, in their cells, was, I can assure my reader, anything but pleasing. On the outside of each door hung a small black board, upon which was laconically inscribed, in four words, the name and surname of the captive—his or her offence—and the sentence. I found that their crimes, generally speaking, were what we should call petty thefts—such as killing the Duke’s game—stealing his wood—his grass, &c., &c.As I paid my melancholy visits, one after another, to these poor people, I particularly observed that they seemed, at least, to be in the enjoyment (if, without liberty, it may be so termed) of good health; the natural effect of the cool, temperate lives they were obliged to lead, and of the pure fresh air which came to each of them through a small open window; yet so soon as their doors were opened, there was an eagerness in their countenances, and a peculiar anxiety in their manner of fixing their eyes upon mine, which seemed to curdle into despondency, as the door was rapidly closed between us. Each individual had some work to perform—one man had just finished a coffin for a poor maniac who had lately ended his melancholy career—the lid, instead of being flat, was a prism of many sides, and, on the upper slab, there was painted in black a cross, very nearly the length of the coffin.So long as the soldier, in his buff belt, who attended the commandant, continued to unlock for me, and lock, the dungeons of the male prisoners, so long did I feel myself capable of witnessing their contents; for to seemensuffer, is what we are all, more or less, accustomed to; but as soon as he came to the women’s cells, I felt, certainly for the first time in my existence, that I should be obliged to abandon my colours, and cease to be of the scene before me—a “reviewer.”In the countenance of the very first female captive that I beheld I could not but remark a want of firmness, for the possession of which I had not given to the other sex sufficient credit—the poor woman (to be sure she might have been a mother) showed an anxiety for her release, which was almost hysterical; and hurrying towards me, she got so close to the door, that it was absolutely forcibly slammed by the soldier, almost in her face.In the third cell that I came to, there stood up before me, with a distaff in her hand, a young slight-made peasant-girl of about eighteen; her hair was black, and her countenance seemed to me beaming with innocence and excessive health. She was the only prisoner who did not immediately fix her eyes upon mine; but, neither advancing nor retiring, she stood, looking downwards, with an expression of grief, which I expected every moment, somewhere or other, would burst into tears. Such a living picture of youthful unhappiness I felt myself incapable of gazing upon; and the door, being closed upon her, was no sooner locked, than I thanked the commandant for his civility, adding, that I would not trouble the soldier to open any more of the cells, observing, as an excuse, that I perceived they were all alike.After standing for some time listening to the rules and discipline of the prison, I inquired of the commandant whether he had any prisoners confined for any greater crimes than those which I have already mentioned, to which he replied in the negative; and he was going to descend the staircase, when I asked him, as coldly as I could, to be so good as to state for what offence the young person I had just left was suffering so severely. The commandant, with silent dignity, instantly referred me to the little black board, on which was written the girl’s name (I need not repeat it) and her crime, which, to my very great astonishment, turned out to be “dissolute;” and it was because she had been convicted a second time of this offence, that she was imprisoned, as I saw her, in a cell, which, like all the others, had only one small window in the roof, from which nothing was to be seen but what she, perhaps, least dared to look at—the heavens! I certainly, from her appearance, did not judge rightly of her character: however, upon such points I neither outwardly profess, nor inwardly do I believe myself, to be what is vulgarly termed—knowing. Had I looked into the poor girl’s countenance for guilt, it is most probable I should not have searched there in vain, but, at her age, one sought for feelings of a better cast; and, notwithstanding what was written on the black board, those feelings most certainly did exist, as I have very faintly described them.I now accompanied the commandant (going along, I may just observe, that he had learned English from his father, who had served as an officer in our German Legion) to another part of the monastery, which had long been fitted up as an asylum for lunatics, most of whom were provided for by the Nassau government, the rest being people of family, supplied with every requisite by their friends.There was but little here which particularly attracted my attention. In clean, airy rooms, formed out of three cells, as in the prison, there lived together from eight to ten lunatics, many of whom appeared to be harmless and even happy, although, in the corner of the room, there certainly was a large iron cage for refractory or dangerous patients. In one of these groups stood a madman, who had been a medical student. He was about thirty years of age, extremely dark, exceedingly powerfully made,—and no sooner did I enter the room, than raising his eyes from a book which he was reading, he fixed them (folding his arms at the time) upon me, with a ferocity of countenance, which formed a very striking contrast to the expression of imbecility which characterized the rest of his companions. The longer he looked at me, the deeper and the darker was his frown; and though I steadily returned it, yet, from the flashing of his eyes, I really believe that like a wild beast, he would have sprung upon me, had I not followed the soldier to the next room.Having inspected the great apartments, I next visited the cells in which were confined those who were not fitted for intercourse with others; they were generally of a gloomy temperament. Some were lying on their beds, apparently asleep; while some, particularly women, actually tried to escape, but were mildly repressed by the commandant, whose manner towards them seemed to be an admirable mixture, in about equal parts, of mildness and immovable firmness.I should have continued along the passage which connected these cells, but the poor creature, whose coffin I had seen, was lying there; I therefore left the building, and went into a great garden of the monastery, filled with standard fruit-trees, which had been planted there by the monks. In this secluded spot there was a sort of summer-house, where the worst lunatic cases were in confinement; none, however, were in chains; though some were so violent, that the commandant made a sign to the soldier not to disturb them.Having now very gratefully taken leave of the deserving officer in charge of this singular establishment for crime and lunacy, the whole of which was kept in complete subjection by a garrison of eight soldiers, for a considerable time I strolled alone about the premises. Sometimes I looked at ancient figures of a boar, which I found in more than one place, rudely carved both on wood and stone; then I wandered into the old cathedral, which was now strangely altered from the days of its splendour, for the glass in its Gothic windows having been broken, had been plastered up with mud, and upon the tombs of bishops and of abbots there was lying corn in sheaves,—heaps of chaff,—bundles of green grass.My attention was now very particularly attracted by the venerable entrance-gate of the monastery, which, on turning a corner, suddenly appeared before me, surmounted by colossal statues of the Great St. Bernhard with his crosier—of St. John, holding a long thin cross, at the foot of which there was seated a lamb—and of the Virgin Mary, who, with a glory round her head, and an olive branch in her hand, stood in the centre, considerably exalted above both.The sun had long ago set—and I was no sooner immediately under the great arched gateway, than, leaning on my staff, I stood as it were riveted to the ground at the sight of the moon, which, having risen above the great hill, was shining directly upon the picturesque pile and images above my head.As in silence and solitude I gazed upon the lovely planet, which majestically rose before me, growing brighter and brighter as the daylight decayed, I could not help feeling what strange changes she had witnessed in the little valley of Eberbach! Before the recorded meeting of the “sus atque sacerdos,” she had seen it for ages and ages existing alone in peaceful retirement—one generation of oaks, and beech-trees had been succeeded by another, while no human being had felt disposed either to flourish or to decay among this vegetable community. After this solemn interview with the pig, she had seen the great St. Bernhard collecting workmen and materials, and as in the midst of them he stood waving his cross, she had observed a monastery rise as if by magic from the earth, rapidly overtopping the highest of the trees which surrounded it. In the days of its splendour she had witnessed provisions and revenues of all sorts entering its lofty walls, but though processions glittered in its interior, nothing was known by her to have been exported to save a matin and vesper moan, which, accompanying the wind as it swept along the valley, was heard gradually dying, until, in a few moments, it had either ceased to exist, or it had lost itself among the calm, gentle rustling of the leaves. Lastly, she had seen the monks of St. Bernhard driven from their fastness—and from their holy cells. As with full splendour she had since periodically gazed at midnight upon the convent, too often had she heard—first, the scream of the poor maniac, uttered, as her round gentle light shone mildly upon his brain; and then his wild laugh of grief, as, starting from a distempered sleep, he forced his burning forehead against the barred window of his cell, as if, like Henri Quatre,—“Pour prendre la lune avec les dents.”As she proceeded in her silent course, shining successively into each window of the monastery, how often did she now see the criminal lying on the couch of the bigot—and the prostitute solitarily immured in the cell of celibacy! The madman is now soundly sleeping where the fanatic had in vain sought for repose—and the knave unwillingly suffering for theft where the hypocrite had voluntarily confined himself!From a crowd of these reflections, which, like mushrooms, rapidly grew up by the light of the moon, I was aroused by Katherinchen and her satellite Luy, whose heads (scarcely visible from the shadow of the great gateway), pointing homewards, mildly hinted that it was time I should return there; but on my entering the convent, rather an odd scene presented itself. The supper of the lunatics, distributed in separate plates, being ready in the great kitchen, like a pack of hounds, they were all of a sudden let loose, and their appetites sufficiently governing their judgments, each was deemed perfectly competent to hunt for his own food, which was no sooner obtained, than, like an ant, he busily carried it off to his cell. The prisoners were also fed from another kitchen at the same hour; and as certain cravings, which with considerable dignity I had long repressed, were painfully irritated by the very savoury smells which assailed me, stopping for a moment, I most gladly partook of the madman’s fare, and then, full of soup and of the odd scenes I had witnessed, leisurely seating myself in my saddle, guided by Katherinchen, and followed by Luy, we retraced our intricate paths through the forest, until, late at night, we found ourselves once again in sight of the little lamps which light up the garden and bowers of my resting-place, or caravanserai—the New Bad-Haus of Schlangenbad.
Exactlyat the appointed moment, Luy with his favourite ass, Katherinchen, appeared at the door of the new Bad-Haus; the day, overcast with clouds, was quite cool, and, under such favourable auspices, starting at twelve o'clock, in less than a hundred yards we were all hidden in the immense forest which encircles that portion of the duchy of Nassau which looks down upon the Maine and the Rhine. For about an hour, the ass, who after the second turn seemed to be perfectly sensible where she was carrying me, patiently threaded her way along narrow paths, which, constantly crossing each other at various angles, seemed sufficient to puzzle even the brain of a philosopher: however, although human intellect is said to be always on the march, yet we often find brute instinct far before it; and certainly it did appear that Katherinchen’s knowledge of the carte du pays of Nassau was equal almost to that of “The Duke” himself. Sometimes we suddenly came to tracks of wheels which seemed to have been formed by carriages that had not only dropped from, but had returned back to, the clouds, for they beganà proposto nothing, and vanished in an equally unaccountable manner. Sometimes we came to patches bare of timber, except here and there an old oak left on purpose to supply acorns for the swine; then again we followed a path which seemed only to belong to deer, being so narrow that we were occasionally obliged to force our way through the bushes; at last, all of a sudden, I unexpectedly found myself on the very brink of a most picturesque and precipitous valley.
Close above me, standing proudly on its rock, and pointing to a heavy white cloud which happened at the moment to be passing over it, was the great pillar or tower of Sharfenstein, a castle formerly the residence of the bishops of Mainz. The village of Kiedrich lay crouching at a considerable depth beneath, the precipitous bank which connected us with it being a vineyard, in which every here and there were seen flights of rough stone steps, to enable the peasants to climb to their work. By a rocky path, about a foot or nine inches broad, Katherinchen, with Luy following as if tied to her tail, diagonally descended through this grape garden, until we at last reached the village mill, the wheel of which I had long observed indolently turning under a stream of water scarcely heavy enough for its purpose. The little village of Kiedrich, as I rode by it, appeared to be a confused congregation of brown hovels and green gardens, excepting a large slated mansion of the Baron von Ritter, whose tower of Sharfenstein now seemed in the clouds, as if to draw the lightning from the village; and almost breaking my neck to look up to it, I could not help feeling, as I turned towards the east, how proud its laird must be at seeing every morning its gigantic shadow lying across the valley, then paying its diurnal visit to every habitation, thus eclipsing for a few moments, from each vassal, even the sun in the heavens.
After passing Kiedrich, I again entered the forest, and for above an hour there was little to be seen except the noble trees which encompassed me; but the mind soon gets accustomed to ever so short a tether, and though I could seldom see fifty yards, yet within that distance there existed always plenty of minute objects to interest me. The foliage of the beeches shone beautifully clear and brilliant, and there were new shoots, which, being lighter in colour than the old, had much the appearance of the autumnal tint, yet when the error was discovered, one gladly acknowledged that youth had been mistaken for age. The forest now suddenly changed from beech trees into an army of oaks, which seemed to be, generally speaking, about fifty years of age; among them, however, there stood here and there a few weather-beaten veterans, who had survived the race of comrades with whom they had once flourished; but we must drop the military metaphor, for their hearts were gone—their bodies had mouldered away—nothing but one side was left—in fact, they were more like sentry-boxes than sentinels, and yet, in this decayed state, they were decked with leaves as cheerfully as the rest. In this verdant picture, there was one pale object which, for a few moments, as I passed it, particularly attracted my attention; it was an immense oak, which had been struck dead by lightning; it had been, and indeed still was, the tallest to be seen in the forest, and pride and presumption had apparently drawn it to its fate. Every leaf, every twig, every small branch was gone; barkless—blasted—and blanched—its limbs seemed stretched into the harshest outlines; a human corpse could not form a greater contrast with a living man, than this tree did with the soft green foliage waving around it: it stood stark—stiff—jagged as the lightning itself; and as its forked, sapless branches pointed towards the sky, it seemed as if no one could dare pass it without secretly feeling that there exists a power which can annihilate as well as create, and that what the fool said in his heart—was wrong! I, however, had not much time for this sort of reflection, for whenever Katherinchen, coming to two paths, selected the right one, Luy from behind was heard loudly applauding her sagacity, which he had previously declared to be superior to that of all the asses in Nassau—and yet, Luy, in his more humble department, deserved quite as much praise as Katherinchen herself.
He was a slender, intelligent, active man, of about thirty, dressed in a blue smock frock, girded round the middle by the buff Nassau belt: and though, from some cause or other, which he could never satisfactorily account for, his mouth always smelt of rum, yet he was never at a loss—always ready for an expedition, and foot-sore or not, the day seemed never long enough to tire him. The fellow was naturally of an enterprising disposition, and the winters in Nassau being long and cheerless, it occurred to Luy on his march, that were he with Katherinchen and his other two asses to go to England (of which he had only heard that it was the richest country under the sun), they would no doubt there be constantly employed for the whole twelvemonth, instead of only finding lady and gentleman riders at Schlangenbad for a couple of months in the year. His project appeared to himself a most brilliant one, and though I could not enter into it quite as warmly as he did (indeed I almost ruined his hopes by merely hinting that our sea, which he had never heard of, might possibly object to his driving asses from Schlangenbad to London), yet I inwardly felt that poor Luy’s speculation had quite as sound a foundation, displayed quite as much knowledge of the world, and had infinitely less roguery in it, than the bubble projects of more civilized countries, which have too often eventually turned out to be nothing more nor less than ass-driving with a vengeance.
After winding my way through the trees for a considerable time, inclining gently to the left, I suddenly saw close before me, at the bottom of a most sequestered valley, the object of my journey,—namely, the very ancient monastery ofEberbach. The sylvan loveliness, and the peaceful retirement of this spot, I strongly feel it is quite impossible to describe. Almost surrounded by hills or rather mountains, clothed with forest trees, one does not expect to find at the bottom of such a valley an immense solitary building, which in size and magnificence not only corresponds with the bold features of the country, but seems worthy of a place in any of the largest capitals of Europe.
The irregular building, with its dome, spires, statues, and high slated roofs, looks like the palace of some powerful king; and yet the monarch has apparently no subjects but the forest trees, which on all sides almost touch the architecture, and even closely environ the garden walls.
A spot better suited to any being or race of beings who wished to say to the world “Fare thee well! and if for ever, still for ever fare thee well!” could scarcely be met with on its vast circumference; and certainly if it were possible for the vegetable creation to compensate a man for losing the society of his fellow-creatures, the woods of Eberbach would, in a high degree, afford him that consolation. A more lovely and romantic situation for a monastery could not have existed; yet I should have wondered how it could possibly have been discovered, had not its history most clearly explained that marvel.
In the year 1131, St. Bernhard, the famous preacher of the crusade (whose followers eventually possessed, merely in the Rhine-gau, six monastic establishments—namely, Tiefenthal, Gottesthal, Eberbach, Eibinger, Nothgottes, and Marienhausen), was attacked by a holy itch, or irresistible determination to erect a monastery; but not knowing where to drop the foundation-stone, he consulted, it is said, a wild boar, on this important subject. The sagacious creature shrewdly listened to the human being who addressed it; and a mysterious meeting being agreed upon, he silently grubbed with his snout, the valley of Eberbach, lines marking out the foundation of the building; and certainly such a lovely stye, for men basking in sunshine, to snore away their existence, no animal but a pig would ever have thought of!
St. Bernhard, highly approving of the boar’s taste, employed the best architects to carry his plan into execution; and sparing no expense, a magnificent cathedral—a large palace, with a monastery, connected together by colonnades, as well as ornamented in various places with the image of a pig, its founder—were quickly reared upon the spot; and when all was completed, monks were brought to the abode, and the holy hive, for many centuries, was heard buzzing in the wild mountains which surrounded it: however, in the year 1803, the Duke of Nassau took violent possession of its honey, and its inmates were thus rudely shaken from their cells. Three or four of the monks, of this once wealthy establishment, are all that now remain in existence, and their abode has ever since been used partly as a government prison, and partly as a public asylum for lunatics.
Before entering the great gate, which was surmounted by colossal figures of the Virgin Mary, St. John, and the great St. Bernhard himself, I was advised by my cicerone, Luy, to go to some grotto he kept raving about; and, as Katerinchen’s nose also seemed placidly to point the same way, I left the monastery, and through a plantation of very fine oaks, which were growing about twenty feet asunder, we ascended, by zigzags, a hill surmounted by a beautiful plantation of firs; and the moment I reached the summit, there suddenly flashed upon me a view of the Rhine, which, without any exception, I should say, is the finest I have witnessed in this country. Uninterrupted by anything but its own long, narrow islands, I beheld the course of the river, from Johannisburg to Mainz, which two points formed, from the grotto where I stood, an angle of about 120 degrees. Between me and the water, lay, basking in sunshine, the Rhine-gau, covered with vineyards, or surrounded by large patches of corn, which were evidently just ready for the sickle; but the harvest not having actually commenced, the only moving objects in the picture were young women with white handkerchiefs on their heads, busily pruning the vines; and the Coln, or, as it might more properly be termed, theEnglishsteam-boat, which, immediately before me, was gliding against the stream towards Mainz. On the opposite side of the Rhine, an immense country, highly cultivated, but without a fence, was to be seen.
Turning my back upon this noble prospect, the monastery lay immediately beneath me, so completely surrounded by the forest, that it looked as if, ready built, it had been dropped from heaven upon its site.
A more noble-looking residence could hardly be imagined, and the zigzag walks and plantations of fir imparted to it a gentlemanlike appearance, which I could not sufficiently admire; yet, notwithstanding the rural beauty of the place, I felt within me a strong emotion of pity for those poor, forlorn, misguided beings, whose existence had been uselessly squandered in such mistaken seclusion; and I could not help fancying how acutely, from the spot on which I stood, they might have compared the moral loneliness of their mansion, with the natural joy and loveliness of that river scenery, from which their relentless mountain had severed them: indeed, I hope my reader will not think an old man too Anacreontic for saying, that if any thing in this world could penetrate the sackcloth garment of a monk, “and wring his bosom,” it would be the sight of what I had just turned my back upon—namely, a vineyard full of women! That the fermentation of the grape was intended to cheer decrepitude, and that the affections of a softer sex were made to brighten the zenith of mid-day life, are truths which, within the walls of a convent or a monastery, it must have been most exquisite torture to reflect upon.
As I descended from the grotto, I saw beneath me, entering the great gate of the building, half a dozen carts laden with wood, each drawn by six prisoners. None being in irons, and the whole gang being escorted by a single soldier in the Nassau uniform, I was at first surprised,—why, when they penetrated the forest, they did not all run away! However, fear of punishment held them together: there being no large cities in the duchy, they had no where to run, but to their own homes, where they would instantly have been recaptured; and though, to a stranger like myself, the forest seemed to offer them protection, yet it was certain death by starvation to remain in it.
On entering the great square, I found it would be necessary to apply to the commandant of the establishment for permission to view it. I accordingly waited upon him, and was agreeably surprised at being politely informed by him, in English, that he would be proud and most happy to attend me. He was a fine, erect, soldierlike-looking man, of about forty, seventeen years of which he had reigned in this valley, over prisoners and lunatics; the average number of the former being 250, and of the latter about 100.
As I was following him along some very handsome cloisters, I observed, hanging against a wall, twenty-five pictures in oil, of monks, all dressed in the same austere costume, and in features as in dress so much resembling each other, that the only apparent distinction between them was the name of each individual, whose barren, useless existence was thus intended to be commemorated beyond the narrow grave which contained him. Ascending a stone staircase, I now came to the lower division of the prison, one half being appropriated to women, and the other to men.
Although I had been for the whole day enjoying pure fresh air, yet the establishment was so exceedingly clean, that there was no smell of any sort to offend me. The monks’ cells had in many places been thrown by threes into large rooms for tailors, weavers, carpenters, shoemakers, &c., &c.,—each of these trades working separately, under the direction of one overseer. In all these chambers every window was wide open, the walls were white-washed, and the blanched floors were without a stain; indeed, this excessive cleanliness, although highly praised by me, and exceedingly attractive to any English traveller, probably forms no small part of the punishment of the prison, for there is nothing that practically teases dirty people more than to inflict upon them foreign habits of cleanliness. The women’s rooms were similarly arranged, and the same cleanliness and industry insisted upon; while, for younger culprits, there was an excellent school, where they were daily taught religious singing, reading, writing, arithmetic, and weaving. Having finished with this floor, I mounted to the upper story, where, in solitary cells, were confined patients who had relapsed, or, in plainer terms, culprits who had been convicted a second time of the same offence.
Many of these unfortunate people were undergoing a sentence of three, four, and five years’ imprisonment; and to visit them, as I did, in their cells, was, I can assure my reader, anything but pleasing. On the outside of each door hung a small black board, upon which was laconically inscribed, in four words, the name and surname of the captive—his or her offence—and the sentence. I found that their crimes, generally speaking, were what we should call petty thefts—such as killing the Duke’s game—stealing his wood—his grass, &c., &c.
As I paid my melancholy visits, one after another, to these poor people, I particularly observed that they seemed, at least, to be in the enjoyment (if, without liberty, it may be so termed) of good health; the natural effect of the cool, temperate lives they were obliged to lead, and of the pure fresh air which came to each of them through a small open window; yet so soon as their doors were opened, there was an eagerness in their countenances, and a peculiar anxiety in their manner of fixing their eyes upon mine, which seemed to curdle into despondency, as the door was rapidly closed between us. Each individual had some work to perform—one man had just finished a coffin for a poor maniac who had lately ended his melancholy career—the lid, instead of being flat, was a prism of many sides, and, on the upper slab, there was painted in black a cross, very nearly the length of the coffin.
So long as the soldier, in his buff belt, who attended the commandant, continued to unlock for me, and lock, the dungeons of the male prisoners, so long did I feel myself capable of witnessing their contents; for to seemensuffer, is what we are all, more or less, accustomed to; but as soon as he came to the women’s cells, I felt, certainly for the first time in my existence, that I should be obliged to abandon my colours, and cease to be of the scene before me—a “reviewer.”
In the countenance of the very first female captive that I beheld I could not but remark a want of firmness, for the possession of which I had not given to the other sex sufficient credit—the poor woman (to be sure she might have been a mother) showed an anxiety for her release, which was almost hysterical; and hurrying towards me, she got so close to the door, that it was absolutely forcibly slammed by the soldier, almost in her face.
In the third cell that I came to, there stood up before me, with a distaff in her hand, a young slight-made peasant-girl of about eighteen; her hair was black, and her countenance seemed to me beaming with innocence and excessive health. She was the only prisoner who did not immediately fix her eyes upon mine; but, neither advancing nor retiring, she stood, looking downwards, with an expression of grief, which I expected every moment, somewhere or other, would burst into tears. Such a living picture of youthful unhappiness I felt myself incapable of gazing upon; and the door, being closed upon her, was no sooner locked, than I thanked the commandant for his civility, adding, that I would not trouble the soldier to open any more of the cells, observing, as an excuse, that I perceived they were all alike.
After standing for some time listening to the rules and discipline of the prison, I inquired of the commandant whether he had any prisoners confined for any greater crimes than those which I have already mentioned, to which he replied in the negative; and he was going to descend the staircase, when I asked him, as coldly as I could, to be so good as to state for what offence the young person I had just left was suffering so severely. The commandant, with silent dignity, instantly referred me to the little black board, on which was written the girl’s name (I need not repeat it) and her crime, which, to my very great astonishment, turned out to be “dissolute;” and it was because she had been convicted a second time of this offence, that she was imprisoned, as I saw her, in a cell, which, like all the others, had only one small window in the roof, from which nothing was to be seen but what she, perhaps, least dared to look at—the heavens! I certainly, from her appearance, did not judge rightly of her character: however, upon such points I neither outwardly profess, nor inwardly do I believe myself, to be what is vulgarly termed—knowing. Had I looked into the poor girl’s countenance for guilt, it is most probable I should not have searched there in vain, but, at her age, one sought for feelings of a better cast; and, notwithstanding what was written on the black board, those feelings most certainly did exist, as I have very faintly described them.
I now accompanied the commandant (going along, I may just observe, that he had learned English from his father, who had served as an officer in our German Legion) to another part of the monastery, which had long been fitted up as an asylum for lunatics, most of whom were provided for by the Nassau government, the rest being people of family, supplied with every requisite by their friends.
There was but little here which particularly attracted my attention. In clean, airy rooms, formed out of three cells, as in the prison, there lived together from eight to ten lunatics, many of whom appeared to be harmless and even happy, although, in the corner of the room, there certainly was a large iron cage for refractory or dangerous patients. In one of these groups stood a madman, who had been a medical student. He was about thirty years of age, extremely dark, exceedingly powerfully made,—and no sooner did I enter the room, than raising his eyes from a book which he was reading, he fixed them (folding his arms at the time) upon me, with a ferocity of countenance, which formed a very striking contrast to the expression of imbecility which characterized the rest of his companions. The longer he looked at me, the deeper and the darker was his frown; and though I steadily returned it, yet, from the flashing of his eyes, I really believe that like a wild beast, he would have sprung upon me, had I not followed the soldier to the next room.
Having inspected the great apartments, I next visited the cells in which were confined those who were not fitted for intercourse with others; they were generally of a gloomy temperament. Some were lying on their beds, apparently asleep; while some, particularly women, actually tried to escape, but were mildly repressed by the commandant, whose manner towards them seemed to be an admirable mixture, in about equal parts, of mildness and immovable firmness.
I should have continued along the passage which connected these cells, but the poor creature, whose coffin I had seen, was lying there; I therefore left the building, and went into a great garden of the monastery, filled with standard fruit-trees, which had been planted there by the monks. In this secluded spot there was a sort of summer-house, where the worst lunatic cases were in confinement; none, however, were in chains; though some were so violent, that the commandant made a sign to the soldier not to disturb them.
Having now very gratefully taken leave of the deserving officer in charge of this singular establishment for crime and lunacy, the whole of which was kept in complete subjection by a garrison of eight soldiers, for a considerable time I strolled alone about the premises. Sometimes I looked at ancient figures of a boar, which I found in more than one place, rudely carved both on wood and stone; then I wandered into the old cathedral, which was now strangely altered from the days of its splendour, for the glass in its Gothic windows having been broken, had been plastered up with mud, and upon the tombs of bishops and of abbots there was lying corn in sheaves,—heaps of chaff,—bundles of green grass.
My attention was now very particularly attracted by the venerable entrance-gate of the monastery, which, on turning a corner, suddenly appeared before me, surmounted by colossal statues of the Great St. Bernhard with his crosier—of St. John, holding a long thin cross, at the foot of which there was seated a lamb—and of the Virgin Mary, who, with a glory round her head, and an olive branch in her hand, stood in the centre, considerably exalted above both.
The sun had long ago set—and I was no sooner immediately under the great arched gateway, than, leaning on my staff, I stood as it were riveted to the ground at the sight of the moon, which, having risen above the great hill, was shining directly upon the picturesque pile and images above my head.
As in silence and solitude I gazed upon the lovely planet, which majestically rose before me, growing brighter and brighter as the daylight decayed, I could not help feeling what strange changes she had witnessed in the little valley of Eberbach! Before the recorded meeting of the “sus atque sacerdos,” she had seen it for ages and ages existing alone in peaceful retirement—one generation of oaks, and beech-trees had been succeeded by another, while no human being had felt disposed either to flourish or to decay among this vegetable community. After this solemn interview with the pig, she had seen the great St. Bernhard collecting workmen and materials, and as in the midst of them he stood waving his cross, she had observed a monastery rise as if by magic from the earth, rapidly overtopping the highest of the trees which surrounded it. In the days of its splendour she had witnessed provisions and revenues of all sorts entering its lofty walls, but though processions glittered in its interior, nothing was known by her to have been exported to save a matin and vesper moan, which, accompanying the wind as it swept along the valley, was heard gradually dying, until, in a few moments, it had either ceased to exist, or it had lost itself among the calm, gentle rustling of the leaves. Lastly, she had seen the monks of St. Bernhard driven from their fastness—and from their holy cells. As with full splendour she had since periodically gazed at midnight upon the convent, too often had she heard—first, the scream of the poor maniac, uttered, as her round gentle light shone mildly upon his brain; and then his wild laugh of grief, as, starting from a distempered sleep, he forced his burning forehead against the barred window of his cell, as if, like Henri Quatre,—
“Pour prendre la lune avec les dents.”
As she proceeded in her silent course, shining successively into each window of the monastery, how often did she now see the criminal lying on the couch of the bigot—and the prostitute solitarily immured in the cell of celibacy! The madman is now soundly sleeping where the fanatic had in vain sought for repose—and the knave unwillingly suffering for theft where the hypocrite had voluntarily confined himself!
From a crowd of these reflections, which, like mushrooms, rapidly grew up by the light of the moon, I was aroused by Katherinchen and her satellite Luy, whose heads (scarcely visible from the shadow of the great gateway), pointing homewards, mildly hinted that it was time I should return there; but on my entering the convent, rather an odd scene presented itself. The supper of the lunatics, distributed in separate plates, being ready in the great kitchen, like a pack of hounds, they were all of a sudden let loose, and their appetites sufficiently governing their judgments, each was deemed perfectly competent to hunt for his own food, which was no sooner obtained, than, like an ant, he busily carried it off to his cell. The prisoners were also fed from another kitchen at the same hour; and as certain cravings, which with considerable dignity I had long repressed, were painfully irritated by the very savoury smells which assailed me, stopping for a moment, I most gladly partook of the madman’s fare, and then, full of soup and of the odd scenes I had witnessed, leisurely seating myself in my saddle, guided by Katherinchen, and followed by Luy, we retraced our intricate paths through the forest, until, late at night, we found ourselves once again in sight of the little lamps which light up the garden and bowers of my resting-place, or caravanserai—the New Bad-Haus of Schlangenbad.