A short run of fourteen hours from the Tower, on a road as smooth as that of the Great Western Railway, deposited us safely at Ostende—a kind of flat and fortified Gravesend, where John Bull, as far as tongue and table are concerned, is as much at home as if he were in Deptford or Greenwich. At six in the morning, every thing is bustle among the baggage, and it requires half a dozen omnibuses to convey travellers, trunks, clothes-bags and band-boxes from the hotels to the station. And here I would advise every passenger to mark thedestinationon every package, and take care of the receipt ticket, otherwise he may find, on his arrival at Brussels, Liege, or Antwerp, that his luggage has travelled to quite a different quarter, requiring a “reclamation” to be sent along the lines, and perhaps two or three days’ delay! One of my trunks, and that too, the one containing the “sinews of war,” was “absent without leave,” when I reached Brussels, and was afterwards found lying in the office at Ghent!
Short as was our passage to the Station by theomnibus, it gave rise to a warm discussion respecting this very convenient and economical vehicle, which was considered by one of the party as a great recent improvement on hackneys, cabs, and stage-coaches. An Irish Tutor, however, who was one of the company, maintained that theomnibuswas in common use more than two thousand years ago, in every country between the banks of the Ganges and the pillars of Hercules. This was so startling an assertion that the gentleman was called on for proof. “That I will give,” said he, “from the tenth Satire of Juvenal, which commences thus:”—
“OMNIBUS in terris quæ sunt à gadibus usqueAuroram et gangem.”——
“OMNIBUS in terris quæ sunt à gadibus usqueAuroram et gangem.”——
“OMNIBUS in terris quæ sunt à gadibus usque
Auroram et gangem.”——
The cockneys stared at each other, and one or two gentlemen laughed most immoderately. TheDomineproceeded to translate the passage for the benefit of the ladies, and others who might not possess a knowledge of the dead languages.
“Omnibus in terris” there are OMNIBUSES in all countries, “quæ sunt,” that lie, “a gadibus,” between Cadiz, “auroram et gangem” and the banks of the Ganges.
This ingenious distortion of the celebrated passage in Juvenal, was delivered with such assumed gravity and apparent honesty, that it carried conviction to nine-tenths of the passengers, and those few who detected the sophistry, were so much pleased with the joke, that they applauded the learning of the Theban. Nor would it have been very easy to prove that he wasliterallywrong. “Omnibus” was in use wherever the latin language prevailed; and though not specifically designed as a vehicle forpassengers and luggage, it was employed to carryall kinds of things—hence the application of it to the modern and very useful Noah’s Ark on four wheels.
A good deal of scepticism has been expressed respecting the “flying Dutchman” of the novelist and others. But I do not see why we should not have a “flying Dutchman,” seeing that we have “flying Belgians.” If, in the good old times of Marlbro’, Napoleon, and Wellington, a train of artillery moving at the rate of ten or twelve miles an hour, was called a“flying” train, surely a train going at the rate of twenty-five or thirty miles an hour, and carrying a small army with its baggage on its back, deserves the epithet of a “flying train.” Never was country better calculated for rail-roads than a great portion of Holland and Belgium. You have only to lay down sleepers and rails in any direction, and all is ready for the engine. Nor is there any extra expence required for guarding man or beast against accidents. The train brushes along the sides or gable of a cottage—dashes through the centre of a village—plunges through the suburbs of a city—skips over a public road without disturbing a stone of the pavé—darts over a canal—and all with scarcely a rail or fence to prevent intrusion on the lines. The Belgians are either very cautious, or very reckless of life. You will see men, women, and children standing or sitting within six feet of the trains; but no accident seems ever to occur. As for cattle straying on the rail-roads, there is little danger of that; for you may travel from Ostende to Liege, without seeing ox or ass, cow or calf, sheep or goat—or anything with four legs—except in the towns. All is corn, hay, potatoes, and clover—or clover, potatoes, hay and corn—or some combination of these four staple articles.
But neither rail-roads nor love are found to run always smooth. As weapproach Liege the ground becomes so rugged, and the hills so steep, that tunnels of prodigious length and depth are necessary to complete the line to Liege, Aix, and Cologne. It is said the Americans contemplate a perforation of the Allighany Mountains, in order that rail-roads may be extended to Kentucky. The task will not be much less difficult to connect Ostende with the Rhine. But the persevering industry of Germans—the “improbus labor”—will conquer all obstructions.
While the train is flying along between Brussels and Liege, let us glance at the Antwerp route. It is generally preferred to that of Ostende—though for what good reason I am ignorant. The land is surely more natural to man than the water. True the difference between the two routes consists chiefly in the length of the river voyage; but, of all the navigations which I have ever experienced round this globe, the “Navigation of the Scheldt,” is amongst the most insipid and monotonous. To me, too, it recalled scenes the most triste, and reminiscences the most dolorous. The very lapse of time itself (31 years) since I first anathematized its malodorous and malarious banks, is not a very pleasing retrospect. But the recollection of what passed there in 1809, can never be called up without pain and mortification!
While the steamer was ploughing her weary way between Flushing and Cadsand,Memory, that mysterious power, quickly reproduced the drama, on which the curtain had fallen for more than thirty years! The hundred pendants floating in the air—the masses of troops, whose polished arms gleamed in the sun—the frowning and hostile ramparts and batteries on each side of the pass covered with thousands of soldiers and citizens—the daring rush of three men-of-war (in one of which, theValiantof seventy-four guns, I then was,) into the Scheldt, while shells were bursting over us, and the heavy shot whistling through our rigging—the debarkation of the British troops—the bombarding and battering of Flushing—the conflagration of the town—the sorties of the garrison, repulsed, scattered, and driven back by British bayonets, as quickly and certainly as the Ocean’s surge is shivered into foam by the perpendicular rocks—the devastation of the ramparts by the showers of shot and shells for ever thundering against them—the awful preparation for storm—the capitulation of the garrison;—all these and many other scenes rose on the intellectual mirror, and flitted round the mental diorama, as fresh as when they were first spread before the material eye.
Then came the still darker side of the drama, on which Memory, even yet shudders to dwell! Our hopes and expectations scattered on the winds—the great object of the Expedition (French fleet) secured beyond ourreach, though before our eyes—while our luxurious commander was employed in eating turtle and throwing theshellsat the enemy.
The stimulus of action, the expectation of booty, and the prospect of battle being withdrawn, vexation and disappointment prepared the way for the deadly poison of malaria. Now came the “foul fiend of the fens” in a hundred horrid forms; and, like a destroying angel, mowed down the ranks of our legions, lingering on these pestiferous plains in disgust or despair! Happy were they who fell victims, at once, to the destructive agent. Many of those who survived the endemic, were harassed to their dying days by repeated attacks of the Walcheren malady.
Yet, on both sides of the river, the country is a luxurious garden,—teeming, equally, with the necessaries of life and the seeds of death.
The city of Antwerp itself is worthy of a visit, there being numerous paintings by the Flemish masters of the art, while the citadel calls forth exciting recollections of valiant assaults, and equally gallant defences.
Liege is quite metamorphosed—revolutionised—or, more properly speaking,Cockrellized—within the last twenty years. In times of war, it presented a picture of peace—and now, in times of peace, it exhibits the bustle of war. It is no longer the quiet abode of burghers, as in the days of Quentin Durward! In every direction you observe tall chimnies belching forth volumes of dense smoke—forges roaring—steam-engines sobbing hammers clattering—and files grating—all in the preparation and construction of various kinds of destructive weapons, from a 42-pounder to a pitchfork! Liege, in fact, is now the Brumagem of Belgium, and can rival the great British manufactory of metals in no small degree. Musket-barrels can be procured at Liege for three shillings each! Let England look to her corn-laws! The “factory system” has not greatly improved the manners, habits, or morals of Liege. Those who have not visited this place for ten or fifteen years are astonished at the difference among the lower order of the people.
The country around Liege, and between that city and Aix and Spa, is magnificent—equal in beauty, cultivation, and fertility, to the finest parts of Devonshire—or indeed of any other shire in England. Unlike France and many parts of the Continent, the country here is spangled with handsome villas and neat cottages in every direction.
About six miles from Liege, on the road to Spa, most beautifully situate,lies the little warm spring of the above name. The waters are limpid, inodorous, and tasteless. The temperature is 90½° of Fahrenheit. The specific gravity is that of common water. It contains small quantities of carbonic, sulphuric, and muriatic acid, and also some lime. One hundred pints of this spring yielded 240 grains of saline matters—of which 88 were common salt—91 carbonate of lime—14 sulphate of lime—15 muriate of magnesia—12 alumine—and 15 silice. They are, therefore, very analogous to the waters of Pfeffers, Wildbad, and Schlangenbad—and may be used for the same purposes as their more celebrated contemporaries. They may be reached in nine or ten hours from Ostende, by the rail-road. A young lady from England, who bathed in these waters once, and sometimes twice a day, remarked that she always “felt like eel” after leaving them, and throughout the same day. I do not exactly know what the “eel-feel” is, but I can easily believe that it is not precisely that which the eel itself experiences when it changes its mud-bath for the hands of the cook.
“Heureux qui s’ecartant des sentiers d’ici bas,A l’ombre du desert allant cacher ses pas.”
“Heureux qui s’ecartant des sentiers d’ici bas,A l’ombre du desert allant cacher ses pas.”
“Heureux qui s’ecartant des sentiers d’ici bas,
A l’ombre du desert allant cacher ses pas.”
Thirty miles South ofAix-la-Chapelle, and twenty-four South-east of Liege, embosomed in a sombre but rather romantic valley of the Ardennes, liesSpa, formerly one of the most aristocratic and celebrated chalybeates of Europe.
We proceed from Liege to Spa along the valley of the Vesdre, and a more beautiful drive can hardly be met with. I do not think it inferior to the banks of the Meuse, and it certainly is much morebeautifulthan many parts of the Rhine. The sides of the valley are clothed with wood, or cultivated carefully, from their very summits, and studded with beautiful villas, cottages, and hamlets, in all directions. At every winding, we see hundreds of men at work, carrying the new rail-road over rivers and through the solid rock.
“Cette route charmante decouvre à chaque detour de ravissants vallons qui laissant aperçevoir au loin des maisons de plaisance, de vieux chateaux, et de riants villages. Les cotes escarpées des montagnes qui en dessinent les sinuositées parsemées d’arbres, de rochers, et de precipices.”
At the village of Pepinsterre, about sixteen miles from Liege, we quit the Aix-la-Chapelle road, and turn up to the right. The whole way from this to Spa is a constant ascent, the air becoming more bracing, and the scenery more wild, or of the Ardennes-forest character, till we approach the town through a triple avenue, the centre one a pavé, and the sideones for walking or riding. Spa itself lies in a very picturesque dell, the eastern side of which is very abrupt, and covered with wood. The houses are all white and clean, and the locale, altogether, pleased me more than almost any spa I had previously visited.
Yet the place is comparatively abandoned! We saw very few English there, and up to the 23d July, 1840, only about a thousand names were entered on the books, many, perhaps most, of whom were casual visitors, or merely passengers to other spas! I fear the good citizens of Spa will not erect a statue to Sir Francis Head.
A catalogue of the emperors, kings, queens, princes, and nobility of all grades (laying aside the gentry and bureaucracy) who have lined their ribs with steel, and tanned their slender chylopoietics in the Pouhon or Geronsterre, would fill a volume. Our countrymen bear a conspicuous part in this roll of worthies. Henry the Third, of France, visited Spa in the sixteenth century—in the same, Charles Stuart, having lost his kingdom, repaired to Spa to regain his health. In 1717,Peter the Greatdrank the waters of the Pouhon and Geronsterre—in one single year, (1783,) the list of princes, dukes, and princesses, alone, amounted to 33, besides the hosts of inferior gentry.
The following history of one of our countrymen, recorded byHenry de Steers, the Sydenham of Spa, is not a little curious:—“In 1620, arrived here a Milord Anglais, accompanied by his medical attendant. The College of Physicians in London, who had been consulted in this case, instead of putting Milord into a strait-waistcoat—or, at all events, under surveillance, recommended him to the care of De Steers, at Spa. This unfortunate gentleman laboured under monomania of three distinct forms, which attacked him periodically, and in succession. During the first ten days of every month, he neither ate, nor drank, nor spoke. He kept to his room all the time. On the eleventh morning he would rise from his bed early, go out a hunting, and come home hungry, eating and drinking enormously. This was his occupation during the second decade of the month. In the third decade, the scene entirely changed. He became passionately fond of music, and squandered hundreds upon the squallini’s of that day. At the end of the month the taciturnity and fasting, &c. returned.”
It is hardly necessary to say that De Steers, being unable to prevail on the monomaniac to drink the Spa waters, the patient returned to England, and became a furious and confirmed maniac.
“As soon,” says Dr. Dordonville, “as the roads to Spa were rendered passable, the English, travellers by disposition, and great admirers of the picturesque, thronged to the fountains, and filled the town by their magnificence. They loved to expend their riches; and those, whose energetic passions threw them into dissipation, introduced a fatal and ruinous luxury.”
Although the caprice of fashion, and the attractions of other watering-places have damaged Spa, it is still resorted to by many people of this country, and great numbers from France, Belgium, and Germany.
This is the most ancient of the springs. It is situated in the middle of the town, surrounded by a marble basin, whence is bottled immense quantities of the waters for France, England, Holland, and Germany. Steers, who practised here for twenty-five years, is not behind his brethren of the spas, in his eulogies of the Pouhon waters. “They have an agreeable tartness, and have worked many miracles. Their effects are all but supernatural, and have excited the curiosity and admiration of physicians and philosophers who have come here from various countries.”
It is very clear when received into a glass, which becomes covered on the sides with bubbles of air, that also rise on the surface. The acidulous and piquant taste is succeeded by a smack of steel. On standing for some time there is a deposition of iron at the bottom of the glass, in consequence of the disengagement of carbonic acid. Peter the Great, who came here exhausted, and menaced with dropsy, completely recovered—and his statue stands over the Pouhon as no mean certificate of the medicinal powers of the spring.
Thesecond source,Sauveniere, is half a league out of the town, and situated in a romantic spot. This spa contains less iron than the Pouhon, and used to precede the others in drinking.
TheGeronsterrewas known toDe Steers. It is to the south of the town, but now of easy access by a beautiful road. This spring disengages some sulphuretted hydrogen gas, which distinguishes it from the others.
TheTonneletis situated between the Pouhon and Sauveniere, and has three springs, all of the same quality.
Constituents of One Gallon (231 Cubic Inches).
From the above it will be seen that iron and large quantity of carbonic acid gas are the main ingredients in the spa waters—and consequently that they are simple chalybeates—without aperient qualities.
Superb baths have been erected near the Pouhon, for the accommodation of visitors.
M. Dordonville is the most recent author on the Spa waters, as he has resided there for many years, on account of his own health. According to him, the first perceptible effect of drinking the Spa waters, especially if taken on an empty stomach, is a slight affection of the head resembling that which results from taking champaign. Four or five glasses suffice to produce this phenomenon, especially at first. As this arises from the carbonic acid gas, it is very transitory. This abundance of gas renders these waters very pleasant to drink, but they are far from agreeable when the gas has escaped—and they are then less easy of digestion. Hence the bottled waters are far less efficacious than at the sources. Since the mania of Broussais, it has not been uncommon for French visitors to take the waters mixed with gum Arabic, by which precious mess the springs were rendered nauseous and indigestible. We may agree with Dr. Dordonville that the action of Spa waters is not confined to the stomach, but extends to various organs with which the stomach is bound in sympathy. This applies to debility of the digestive organs and its consequences; but we must be cautious how we employ this chalybeate where there are any obstructions or engorgements of other viscera, merely because they are diuretic, and promote absorption. Both De Steers of old, and Monsr. Dordonville, of the present day, assure us that these waters require to be taken in large doses, and for a considerable time, otherwise they will do harm instead of good. “Those who cannot take them in this manner ought to desist from taking them at all.” Mons. D. has seen many people who have taken from 300 to 350 ounces of the waters daily.Peter the Greatgenerally took twenty-one glasses (three ounces each) every morning. Dr. D. however, wisely leaves it to the feelings of the patient, how many goblets he daily takes.
These waters have been found very beneficial in chronic diarrhœa, as might indeed be expected; butlarge quantitiesof any liquid taken in such cases, are detrimental, especially when conjoined with the pedestrian exercises that are recommended. We can hardly subscribe to the doctrine that these chalybeates are beneficial in obstructions of the liver, and enlargments of the spleen—especially the former, considering that they have no aperient quality. The same observation applies to enlargement of the mesenteric glands.
On the kidneys they have an evident action, andDe Steers, the Sydenham of his day, calls themvesical.
“The waters of Spa remove heat of the kidneys and bladder, and expel gravel more effectually than any other remedy.”
One of the most general effects of these waters is an increase of appetite, and most patients acquire flesh as well as strength under their use.
It is, however, to people of pallid complexions—leucophlegmatic constitutions—and general debility, without organic disease, that these waters may be very useful. The pallid female, affected with complaints peculiar to the sex, may expect to acquire a healthy complexion, and general strength from the waters of Spa, assisted by mountain air and daily exercise. Sterility is one of the many maladies for which they are loudly praised by the resident physicians.
The sulphuretted chalybeate of the Geronsterre is recommended by Dr. D. in tuberculous affections of the lungs—a recommendation which needs confirmation, as the Americans say.
M. Dordonville remarks that no small portion of those who come to Spa, do so for pleasure, and not for health. These may eat and drink and exercise as they would at home. But the invalid must pursue a systematic regimen. The ancients always recommended aperient medicine previously to taking mineral waters—and even De Steers made a point of giving a gentle purgative to his patients every eight or ten days. The horror of opening medicine entertained by people on the continent, medical men and all, is productive of infinite mischief, when chalybeate waters, and all those not aperient, are used. M. Dordonville cautions the drinkers of Spa very strongly against exposure to cold—a necessary advice in a mountainous region, where vicissitudes of temperature are frequent. The waters are best taken early in the morning fasting; or before meals. Some people drink them at their meals, without injury. Most of the inhabitants of Spa have no other beverage. In affections of the chest they may be mixed with milk—especially those of the Geronsterre. M. Dordonville considers the Spring as the best season for the waters of Spa, and regrets that tyrant fashion prevents invalids from coming to these waters till the middle of Summer, or even till Autumn. From five to fifteen minutes’ interval between the glasses is to be observed, with exercise during that time. He recommends a light breakfast to be taken at the fountains, after the waters, where delicious milk, fresh eggs, good butter, and bread can always be had. From twenty to forty, or even sixty days are necessary for a complete course of the waters. The same physician cautions us against compound dishes or the least approach to repletion while taking the Spa. “The great rock on which patients split is the pleasures of the table.”
The environs of Spa are very picturesque, and even romantic—the rides and promenades being extensive and varied in this mountainous region. The railway from Ostende or Antwerp takes the invalid or visitor to within twenty-four miles of the Spa, and will soon take him within six miles ofthe town: and therefore the place may be reached on the third day from London.
Springing from my couch at five o’clock, in the morning after my arrival, I first drank a large tumbler of the Pouhon, and started up the mountain for the Geronsterre. The ascent is constant and rather steep; but the mountain air gave me fresh vigour, and I reached the fountain (three miles) without the slightest fatigue. It is prettily situated in a kind of pleasure-ground, with shaded walks and pleasant benches for promenade or repose, while taking the waters. The water itself did not convey to my olfactory nerves that decided odour of sulphuretted hydrogen which Dr. Dordonville maintains it does. It certainly tastes somewhat different from the Pouhon, and they urge you to swallow it quickly, lest the malodorous gas should escape. It was in vain that I told the Nymph of the Spring that I was not sick, but only drinking the waters from curiosity. Still she urged, and so did some of the drinkers, that the most precious ingredient would vanish into air, if I did not gulp it down in an instant: I now took an eastern road over the brow of the mountain, through a wild forest, but along a good road, and reached theSauveniere, after a long walk of nearly three miles. Here I quaffed at the source whence the Duchess of —— imbibed new life, or at least renovated health, and hung up her votive tablet, in the shape of a dome and colonnade, in gratitude to the fountain and its tutelar saint, Apollo. It tasted to my palate much more inky than its neighbour the Geronsterre, as, indeed, it ought to do, having more than double the quantity of iron, and nearly half as much as the Pouhon.
From thence I turned down a narrow road to theTonnelet, about a mile distant from the Sauveniere. It was the briskest of them all, to my palate, containing more carbonic acid gas than even the Pouhon. The chalybeate taste was very marked, and the water, upon the whole, very pleasant. By this time I had swallowed four large tumblers of mineral water, and walked seven miles before breakfast, which was very well for the first morning. I experienced no sensation whatever about my head, nor any other than a sense of fulness in the stomach, and very little appetite. Another walk of more than a mile to the town, dissipated the sense of fulness and brought me an excellent appetite, which was again removed by eggs, coutelets, potatoes, and coffee, at the hotel de Pays Bas. After breakfast, the pedestrian exercise was again resumed, and the heights to the eastward of the town, with all their devious and intricate paths, were carefully explored. The views from these heights are various and beautiful—the air delicate and exhilarating. Descending to the town, and resting half an hour, I repaired to the bathing establishment, close to the Pouhon, and ordered a mineral water bath, at a temperature of 98°. I found that the bath-master trusted entirely to his hand, for the regulation of temperature, and on testing this “rule of thumb” by the thermometer,he had only made a mistake of six degrees, the instrument exhibiting 104°, instead of 98°. This, however, is very common at all bathing places. The chalybeate bath produced in me no other sensations than those arising from saline or plain baths elsewhere. The carbonic acid was all gone, and the water tasted merely mawkish. It has very little of the stimulating effects of the Wisbaden or other potent waters. Although I did not rise from the bath “rajeuné comme un Phœnix,” I experienced great refreshment after twelve miles’ walking-exercise, and repaired to the three o’clock table-d’hôte in thePays Bas, with more natural appetite than I had felt since leaving Modern Babylon. A siesta of an hour after dinner was equally pleasant and salubrious. After some ramblings about the town, a visit to the Redout finished the day’s work.
The magnificent “grande salle” in this splendid edifice, was occupied with the ball, while the “Dæmon-robberbands” were plying their vocation at the end of the room. The play, however, seemed to go on languidly; and the waltz appeared to have more attractions for the company than the roulette. The dancers and spectators were by no meansdistinguée. There was not one fine woman in the room. We did not distinguish more than half a dozen English in the whole assembly. They were almost all French, Flemish, and a few Germans.
Thus ended aSpa-dayin the Ardennes. I do not recommend an imitation of it to all those who go to Spa for health. But if the pedestrian exercise were superseded by equestrian or carriage exercise, I think a more effectual plan for the recovery of health could hardly be devised. To those who are very delicate, the paths that are cut along the face of the wooded precipices overhanging the town, afford most beautiful walks, sheltered from the winds, and commanding pleasing prospects of Ardennes scenery. The air there is bracing and elastic.
It is not likely that such a “Haven of Health” as this is, should be without its Cursaal, or gambling-table. The two grand hells are the Redout and the Vauxhall. A few years before the Revolution the Church sustained some damage in slander by these mansions of morality. It appears that the Bishop of Liege, who united a temporal with an eternal concern for the souls of the good citizens, had granted a monopoly of fifty years gambling to the proprietors of the Redout—of course without any other consideration than the advancement of religion and the good of the people. But a rival establishment (Vauxhall) having been started, the Bishop issued an ordonnance against the new tables, as not being orthodox. An appeal was made to the legislature, and the holy canon was reversed, on the principle that, as in a free state like that of Liege, “every man had a right to do as he liked with his own”—and as gambling was not contrary to law, so the Bishop had no right to grant a monopoly to gamblers. This was an awkward affair; but an amicable arrangement was soon made between the Bishop and the proprietors of the two hells, by which theman of God modestly declined a tenth of the spoil, and only accepted athirdof the profits of the tables at the end of each season! “LePrince Evequerecevra le tiersdes Beneficesque se feront dans ces deux maisons sur les jeux, apres la saison des Eaux.”
In this way things went on smoothly for a while; when lo! a thirdCursaalraised its lofty head to share the spoils of hazard with the noble firm of “Bishop,Redout, andVauxhall.” This was too much for the conscience of M.L’Eveque. He justly considered that two royal roads to the regions of his “friend in black” were amply sufficient—and that to open a third would only be adding another facility to the already “faciles descensus Averni.” He therefore sent a file of “gens-d’armes” to turn the tables on these scoffers at the holy command of their Bishop, which led to wars and bloodshed. The Bishop, finding his palace of Liege rather warm for him, appealed to the Emperor of Germany—or rather to Prince Metternich, then at Coblentz. Metternich decided in favour of the original hells, as being under the benediction of the Bishop, or perhaps of the Pope—and therefore incapable of doing any thing inconsistent with the orthodox religion! Soon after this, Metternich and his master had more important games to play in the French Revolution, and how Mons.Levoz, the unfortunate proprietor of the new Cursaal fared, this deponent knoweth not.
Spas are under the dominion of more influences than fashion. Who could have supposed that the medicinal virtues of mineral waters should be deteriorated or even destroyed bypolitics. Yet such is the case. While Holland and Belgium were under one crown, the Dutch dolls flocked annually in great numbers to paint their cheeks in the Pouhon or Geronsterre, returning to their dykes with a cargo of steel that secured them, for ten months, against the damps and debilities of their vapoury atmosphere. But no sooner had the “Braves Belges” revolted, than the chalybeates of Spa lost all their efficacy, and grass is now likely to grow, and water to run in the streets of this celebrated place! The Dutch and most of the English at present resort to the Brunnens of Nassau—the chalybeates of Brucknau—or the boiling Sprudel, for that health and renovation which they used to seek and obtain in the forest of the Ardennes!
It would be equally useless and impertinent in me to attempt a revulsion in the tide of spa-goers; yet, when I reflect on the locality of Spa—its facility of access (forty-eight hours from London)—the efficacy of its waters—the salubrity of its air—the variety of its promenades and drives—the excellence of its hotels—the cheapness of living—and the seclusion which is attainable by all—I cannot help regretting that fashion, caprice, or some inexplicable spell should turn the tide of British invalids so completely fromSpa, and impel it with irresistible impetus towards theBrunnensofGermany.
Antiquity is to a city what noble blood is to an individual. Theformermay fall into decay, and thelatterinto poverty; but the pride of ancestry supports them both in their fallen greatness. The Romans had excellent olfactories, and a keen scent for steam or sulphuretted hydrogen gas, wherever these issued through cracks or fissures of the earth, in their wide domains. They were very fond of warm baths—and very wisely made frequent use of them with no small advantage, considering that these Lords of the Creation had no linen shirts, and wore thick woollen, and probably somewhat greasy garments next the skin. The boiling cauldron under Aix poured forth its nauseous and malodorous broth as freely when Cæsar was mustering his legions on the banks of the Rhine, or when Charlemagne, many a century afterwards, was uniting his Franco-German subjects in the same place, as now, when the “Dampschippe” and “Chemin de Fer” are daily bringing hundreds of customers and guests from the distant shores of Albion and Erin. Innumerable Roman relics are here found—and actual baths were discovered, where the brother of Nero probably bathed.
Aix is situated in latitude 50° in the midst of a gentle valley, environed, at some distance, by well-wooded hills. The substratum is calcareous, but there are unequivocal marks of volcanic agency in the neighbourhood. The town, like London, presents an old city environed by a new one—especially towards the Borcette. The old town, in which almost all the hotels, and indeed the baths are situated, is very irregular, and cedes to few continental cities in the roughness of its pavements.
TheFontaine Elisée, the chief or only place for drinking the waters, is situated exactly between the old and new towns, close to the theatre, and is one of the handsomest places of the kind amongst the spas of Germany—forming a remarkable contrast with the Hygeian fonts of Ems, Wisbaden, and Baden-Baden. In the midst of the façade, 270 feet in length, rises the rotunda (resembling the Temple of Vesta at Rome) nearly fifty feet in height, supported by columns, flanked by two open colonnades ending in cafées, and fronted by a promenade among trees. The fountain, from which issue two streams, is situated ten or twelve feet below the colonnade, at the bottom of two flights of marble steps—one for descending to the font, and the other for ascending from it. There is ample space in front of the fountain for slowly bibbing the fervid spring. The whole is surmounted by a marble bust of Hygeia—taken from a German Princess—and certainly exhibiting more benignity of mein than beauty of feature. The two High Priests who fill the glasses from the two streams, have nosinecureof it from six till eight o’clock every morning. I counted 300 drinkers the first morning—and then, being tired, I counted no more.It must be the reputation, and not the taste or flavour of these waters, that draws such multitudes of invalids to them every year. The odour of sulphur is exceedingly strong—the temperature 129° Fahrenheit—the taste most nauseous—exactly resembling the washings of a gun-barrel, with a dash of rotten eggs. It is astonishing how soon the palate and olfactories get reconciled to these and other malodorous waters. On the second morning I felt little or no repugnance to them. They are clear as crystal.
The best baths are at theHotel de l’Empereur(where the superior and hottest source is found), and which is also a very good hotel. The maitre (Mr. Nuellens) is a pleasant fellow, who speaks English, and is very attentive to his guests.
As Aix-la-Chapelle is not a place of resort for those who seek pleasure only, the great body of the real visitors are really invalids, or think themselves such. The few attendants on sick friends are seldom seen taking either the waters or baths.
At such a place the experienced eye of the physician can detect, with a tolerable approach to accuracy, the prevailing maladies for the removal of which these waters are employed. The drinkers can readily be divided into three, if not four classes. 1st. I observed a certain proportion, chiefly females—perhaps a twentieth or thirtieth part of the whole,—who were clearly “malades imaginaires”—and whose complexions, features, gait, voices, and condition of body, evinced the absence of all organic disease, or even functional disorder, of any consequence. They appeared, however, to be full as anxious to imbibe the prescribed quantity of this terrible compound of sulphuretted hydrogen gas, muriate of soda and a few other salts, as any of their neighbours, who shewed too evident marks of corporeal sufferings.
Thesecond class—and by far the most numerous—were those whose countenances and tout-ensemble indicated the presence of various functional disorders—more especially stomach complaints, biliary obstructions, cutaneous affections, and uterine derangements. A large proportion of these were likely to benefit from the sulphur salines of Aix. Thethird classcould not be mistaken. The melancholy sequences of apoplectic attacks (paralysis)—swelled limbs—dropsical effusions of the body—jaundice,—enlarged livers and spleens—diseases of the heart—last stages of indigestion—kidney diseases—panting asthma—hectic cough—in short, the long black catalogue of organic diseases, which no waters but those of oblivion could ever wash away.
Yet hope, which clings to the human heart, had collected this unfortunate class—and not in very small numbers—round the fountain and the baths—to return to their homes with blighted expectations, there to linger out a wretched existence!
The German physicians appear to be convinced that mineral springsare not merely waters impregnated with various mineral and gaseous matters, with or without increase of temperature; but that they are possessed ofvitality—living beings, in fact, whose life is transfused into the human organism, thereby communicating energy to the solids and purity to the fluids of our bodies—in other words, correcting and expelling disease and restoring health! Even the venerableAlibertwas smitten with this German transcendentalism, and he observes of the Aix waters—“these springs, under the empire of Nature, most undoubtedly enjoy a species ofvitality(une sorte de vitalité) in common with other living bodies on this globe. They areanimatedby a multitude of principles, which will long, perhaps for ever, elude the most laborious researches of chemistry. The waters of Aix-la-Chapelle, whether used internally or in baths, act as potent restorers of vital energies. Their constituents are powerfully aided in efficacy by the high temperature and the impregnation of divers gases. Taken internally they excite the action of the abdominal viscera—detach mucosities and other morbid secretions, and evacuate them by the bowels, kidneys, and skin. The inhalation of the vapour rising from these waters has been very serviceable in many cases of pulmonary affections.”
Thisvitalityhypothesis did not escape the notice of my friend Dr. Granville, who appears, however, to have thought it rather too large for John Bull to swallow, without some qualification. He therefore substituted “caloricity” for “vitality,” in order that so good an idea might not be lost—and that somemysteriousagency might aid the natural operation of the German spas. This mode of explaining theignotumby theignotiusis, no doubt, very ingenious; but, for my own part, I shall at once acknowledge my ignorance, not only of the manner in which mineral waters are formed in the bowels of the earth, but of theirspecificaction (if any) on the human frame.
The spa doctors candidly allow that the waters of Aix, “if taken too hot and in quantities too large, may produce irritation, and even purgation. But the latter is not a very common effect of these waters. In small doses they are favourable to digestion; and, taken in moderation, they are not calculated to weaken.” As baths, these waters act on the surface, and, by sympathy, on the internal organs, exciting the nervous, secreting, and circulating organs. The temperature of the blood (98°) is considered the best for the bath. “If taken at a higher degree, or too often, they are dangerous.”
Let us now advert to the bill of fare which Alibert, Monheim, Zillerland, Dordonville, Reumont, and others, have spread before the invalids resorting to Aix-la-Chapelle. I shall endeavour, here and elsewhere, to form some scale or estimate of the probable, doubtful, and dangerous agency of the waters and baths.
1. Probable.—2. Doubtful.—3. Dangerous.Difficult digestion, without organic disease (1)—Acidities in the stomach and bowels (1)—Cramps in the stomach (1)—Coliques (1)—Worms (1)—Constipation (2)—Mesenteric obstruction (1)—Obstruction of liver (1)—Of Spleen (1)—Of Kidneys (2)—Hypochondriasis (2)—Hysteria (1)—Hæmorrhoids (1)—Want of sleep (2)—Jaundice (1)—Dropsy (2)—Derangement of monthly health (1)—Sterility (2)—Diarrhœa (2)—Chronic dysentery (2)—Chronic catarrh (2)—Renal and vesical calculi (2)—Glandular enlargements (1)—Scrofula (1)—Tubercles of the liver (2)—Rheumatism, fixed or wandering (1)—Gout, if perfectly chronic (1)—Cutaneous eruptions, chronic and not inflammatory (1)—Morbid effects of mercury (1)—Effects of mineral poisons, as of lead (1)—Deafness (2)—Loss of voice (2)—Weak vision (2).—These waters are contra-indicated in hæmorrhages—tendency to apoplexy—(though they are said to be sometimes useful in the paralysis following apoplexy.)
1. Probable.—2. Doubtful.—3. Dangerous.
Difficult digestion, without organic disease (1)—Acidities in the stomach and bowels (1)—Cramps in the stomach (1)—Coliques (1)—Worms (1)—Constipation (2)—Mesenteric obstruction (1)—Obstruction of liver (1)—Of Spleen (1)—Of Kidneys (2)—Hypochondriasis (2)—Hysteria (1)—Hæmorrhoids (1)—Want of sleep (2)—Jaundice (1)—Dropsy (2)—Derangement of monthly health (1)—Sterility (2)—Diarrhœa (2)—Chronic dysentery (2)—Chronic catarrh (2)—Renal and vesical calculi (2)—Glandular enlargements (1)—Scrofula (1)—Tubercles of the liver (2)—Rheumatism, fixed or wandering (1)—Gout, if perfectly chronic (1)—Cutaneous eruptions, chronic and not inflammatory (1)—Morbid effects of mercury (1)—Effects of mineral poisons, as of lead (1)—Deafness (2)—Loss of voice (2)—Weak vision (2).—These waters are contra-indicated in hæmorrhages—tendency to apoplexy—(though they are said to be sometimes useful in the paralysis following apoplexy.)
The foregoing is a tolerably copious list of maladies which may be benefitted by the waters of Aix-la-Chapelle—and from their sensible qualities and long-established reputation, there is little doubt but thatfashionhas drawn away from them to other more favoured places, many who would have derived great advantage from their use. The remarks on drinking, bathing, and preparatory measures, will be found under the head ofEms, to prevent repetition.
About a mile and a half from the “Fontaine Elisée,” in a romantic little dell, over which the rail-road will soon pass, lies Borcette. The waters resemble those of Aix-la-Chapelle, but they are (one of the sources) entirely devoid of the sulphuretted hydrogen gas. The temperature is about 150° Fahr. The water is clear, and has an acidulous taste. There is one source where the waters are sulphurous. Latterly a chalybeate spring has been discovered here. Borcette is more quiet, and the air fresher than in the town, and the baths are a good deal frequented. The new town, from the Fontaine Elisée to Borcette, is very handsome, and the theatre is a most beautiful building.
Presents more Lions than the “Vitalised Waters” of Alibert. Within its cathedral are preserved some of the most venerable relics that ever pious Catholic bowed to in adoration—relics—