SCHWALBACH.

“And best distinguished by black, brown, or fair.”

There is one peculiarity in the manners of the German fair (besides a certain “je ne sçais quoi,”) which is, theirbowinginstead ofcurtseying, on meeting or parting from friends—and that quite as low as their brothers, fathers, and husbands. This was the reason of my introducing the term “bussel-rending” in the description of a Germansalaam.

Not being deeply versed in the science of gastronomy and its nomenclature, I shall introduce the following order and succession of dishes as drawn by a fair countrywoman (Souvenirs of a Summer in Germany,) whose fidelity of description cannot be doubted.

“First, as usual, was the soup—then the invariable boiled beef, with its accompaniments of pickled cucumber, onions, or sour krout. After the beef, is a course of cutlets, sliced raw ham, omelettes, and vegetables. Then come partridges, chickens, sausages, ducks—all which are replacedby various kinds of fish—some so besauced and bedecked with garnishes, that they are hardly recognizable as belonging to the finny tribe—and pyramidical dishes of cray-fish. The puddings come next, with smoking boats of fruit and wine-sauce. Is this the finale? Not at all. The pudding is a kind of æra, whence fresh courses take their date. A more formidable array of dishes next makes its appearance. Roast joints—req, (a kind of deer,) geese, turkeys, hares, &c. &c. with innumerable satellites of preserved pears, plums, cherries, salads, &c. This substantial course is followed by sweets—cherry tarts—enormous cakes, all spices and vanille with a snowy summit of powdered sugar—custards, creams, &c. The dessert and bon-bons close the proceedings.”

Now, it is to be observed, that this was the bill of fare at Schwalbach or Schlangenbad, where nine-tenths of the guests are notoriously invalids. It would scarcely serve for a dejeuner a la fourçhette at the sumptuaries of Baden or Wisbaden. The fair authoress admits that the German partakes of every dish; but argues that he does not eat more in the aggregate than the Englishman. This statement is so decidedly contrary to all observation, that I can only account for it by supposing that the fair lady noted more accurately the compliments to “la belle Anglaise,” proceeding out of the mouths of her favourite Germans, than the provender which proceeded in a contrary direction. Is it likely that the keeper of a German hotel would dress more dishes than are generally consumed, seeing that the price of the whole dinner is under two shillings? Not he indeed. The fact is undeniable that the Germans—indeed all the continentals who can afford it, eat not only a greater variety and complication of “dishes tortured from their native taste,” but a greater quantity in the aggregate. The question naturally arises—what is the consequence? Compare the complexions of the Germans and English. No one will attempt to deny that the contrast is most striking. The tints of health predominate in the looks of the Islanders—pallor and sallowness in those of the Continental. But the lady may reply—“nimium ne crede colori”—complexion, like beauty, is only skin-deep. Be it so. We shall look deeper. Let us follow the example of the horse-dealer, and examine the teeth. If my fair countrywoman has preserved any “souvenirs” of these important actors in the drama of human life, she will not be inclined to maintain that a German is like an elephant—with a mouth full of ivory. I never saw the hearty laugh of an honest German, without thinking of a temple—whose portal consisted of broken columns of ebony. If 40 Germans, at the age of 40, were compared with the same number of English, at the same age—all taken indiscriminately from the streets of Vienna and London—what would be the comparative number of sound teeth in the heads of the two classes? I shall attempt a calculation presently; mean time, it will be admitted on all hands, that the Germans are woefully afflicted with unsound teeth. What is the reason? A pair of mill-stoneswill grind only a certain quantity of corn—or last only a certain number of years. It is the same with the human mill-stones, or molares. They will only grind a certain quantity of food, or do a certain amount of labour, before they are worn out, like their namesakes in the mill. Now if the Germans eat one-third more than the English—and I firmly believe they do—then their teeth have one-third more of work, and ought to experience a corresponding degree of wear and tear. This, however, will not account for the premature decay of the teeth, but only for their wearing out sooner than under other circumstances. We must seek deeper for the causes. As the millstones are spoiled and rendered useless by allowing improper things to be mixed with the grain, as pebbles, &c. so the teeth are injured by the quality as well as by the quantity of our food. The oils, acids, tobacco, and other deleterious substances, for ever mixing with continental meals, must greatly injure the organs of mastication as well as of digestion.

The human frame is a congeries of organs, all in harmony, when in health, and each assisting the others. But when we deviate from simplicity and temperance, these same organs quarrel with each other, to the detriment, and sometimes to the destruction of the whole constitution. The stomach is one of those patient and willing organs that will work wonders for years and years; but at length it will rebel—and even retaliate. The teeth, which have long sent down immoderate quantities of food, too often of the most abominable composition, for the stomach to grind over again, become visited with pains and penalties by the offended organ, under the vain hope that less work will be done in the upper mill. The warning is unheeded; and then the stomach begins the process of demolition in good earnest. It is in this state of, what the geologists would call “transition,” that we see the teeth of the Germans—and, it must be confessed, of the English sometimes also—in a state disagreeable to the eye, offensive to the nose, and injurious to the health. The stomach, which has inflicted this punishment on the mouth, so far from being benefitted thereby, is still farther injured by the failure of mastication; and then the various organs and functions of the body become involved in the consequences of long-continued deviations from the paths of Nature, simplicity, and temperance!

If this penalty be still considered as imaginary, I shall adduce more cogent arguments. The bills of mortality contain very stubborn facts. Let us take the two capitals of Germany and England—Vienna and London. In theformer, one twenty-fourth of the population goes to the grave annually:—in the latter (London) one-fortieth part only. In the language of the insurance-offices, “the value of life is more than one-third greater in London than in Vienna.” Now this difference will surely not be attributed to climate merely—since the continentals themselves anathematize the climate of England, and the fogs of London, as most“horrid.” Here then we have some clue to the comparative number of teeth in individuals of the same age, at home and abroad. We shall probably find the proportion of 24 to 40 (the ratio of mortality) as exhibiting a fair estimate of the number of teeth in equal masses of the population in Germany and England. Thus, for example, if the Englishman, at the age of 50, have twenty teeth in his head, the German, at the same period of life, will have only twelve, and so on.

But to return to the table-d’hôte. A glance round the “salle-a-manger” brought a strong conviction on my mind, thatFamehad either exaggerated the virtues of the Serpent’s Bath, or had excited hopes that would seldom be realized. A majority of the guests were females; and not a few of these were of a certain—or rather of anuncertain, age. Of the males, the greater number were evidently dandies in decay. I never remember to have seen, in the same compass, a greater variety of feature and complexion—indicating a re-union, in this sequestered spot, of individuals from various and remote regions. But however diversified in external physiognomy, there was one point in which there was a wonderful coincidence and similarity—that point was—notthe point ofbeauty. It is with mortification, I confess, that the English portion of the guests did not form a prominent exception to the general rule. To say the truth, the whole company exhibited sorry samples of the great European and Transatlantic family;—and if appetite was any index, the majority had met here, partly for health, but principally for—re-creation. How far the transmutation from age to youth—from decrepitude to vigour—from the wrinkled skin to the polished surface, was effected by plunges in the Serpent’s Bath, I had not time to ascertain. I candidly acknowledge that I never saw arealphœnix—but ifthesewere specimens of Dr. Fenner’s phœnixes, “rising from their ashes,” then I must say that they very much resembled a batch of old cocks and hens roosting at Schlangenbad during the molting season.

The first impression which a stranger receives, while prying through Schlangenbad, is that the waters have an uglifying rather than a beautifying effect on the human frame. This is erroneous. We do not go through the wards of an hospital to search for samples of rude health—neither ought we to go to Schlangenbad for specimens of smooth skin and delicate complexion.

We rambled through winding and umbrageous paths up the mountain behind the Old Bad-haus, to its summit—and I think there are few places in the world better adapted to profound meditation, while, at the same time, inspiring the most pure, bracing, and salubrious atmosphere. I descended in a contemplative mood, when I stumbled into a long kind of gallery or hall, which looked like an enclosed promenade. There the accursedroulette-table met my eye and excited my choler. What! In this valley of Rasselas—in this asylum of health—in this peaceful retreatfrom the stormy passions of the city—to find the symbol of Hell, and the instrument of the devil, was more than I could bear with patience! True, it was deserted. Not a human being was seen in the place; but its presence indicated too surely the work of destruction that would go on in the evening. Julius Cæsar, I think, observed that the Germans, in his time, were so passionately addicted to gambling, that, when they had lost all their money and goods, they would stake their wives and children! It therefore seems to be impossible to eradicate this dreadful propensity from the German mind. Still the public exercise of it might be prevented. The King of Saxony prohibits andpreventssmoking in Dresden! If such a miracle as this can be wrought in Germany, we need not despair, even of gambling!

The wizzard of Nassau—the knight of the “Bubbles,” has wrought a real modern miracle—the transmutation of water into wine, or rather into nectar.

“The conscious Brunnens saw their god and blushed.”

Every spring in the Duchy has danced more merrily, and bubbled more briskly to the beams of the rising sun, since the children of Albion have swarmed round the living fountains, in search of health or amusement. Well may Dr. Fenner say—“cette reputation est due surtout aux Anglais. La plume caustique deHeada puissament contribué à nous faire-faire une connaissance plus intime avec cette nation.” The pen of Sir Francis may be likened to the bath of Schlangenbad—

“Nullum tetigit quod non ornavit.”

By “ornavit” I do not mean theembellishmentwhich is sometimes synonymous with exaggerations or distortions; but merely that charm which the pen of genius can throw round the most common subjects. Schwalbach is still as it was, in a deep narrow valley—and invisible till we are within a few hundred yards of it. The houses, though more generally painted, and greatly increased in number since the time of the “Old Man,” are still as though they had been shaken in a bag and scattered through the ravine, without the slightest regard to order or regularity. Sir Francis could find no shops in his time—now he would find a bazaar! The town is still somewhat in the form of a Y or a fork, at the end of one prong of which is theStahl-brunnen—while the other prong, or rather prongs, boasts of two hygeian fountains—theWein-brunnenand thePaulinen-brunnen. TheWein-brunnenis the most powerful—theStahl-brunnenis the most palatable—and thePaulineis the most fashionable. The climate of this place, according to the testimony of Dr. Fenner, supported by that of Sir F. Head and others, is very pleasant and salubrious. On the hills we have cool breezes—in the valley shelter from cold winds—inthe woods, ample shade beneath umbrageous foliage, when the sun is powerful and the heat oppressive.

When the “bad humours” of the spa-going invalids have been washed away by copious libations at Aix-la-Chapelle, Ems, and Wisbaden—when the gouty and misshapen limbs have shrunk into “the lean and slippered pantaloon,” beneath the powerful influence of the Kochbrunnen, the Ragoczy, and the Sprudel—when the purple nose of the alderman has faded into the pale proboscis—when the turgid liver, the tumid spleen, and the over-fed corporation have receded within the normal boundaries of a double-reefed waistcoat—when the knotty and contracted joints of rheumatic gout have taken their departure, leaving a legacy of the crutches—when—

“Wrapp’d in his robe, whiteLeprahides his stains,Robb’d of his strength, but unsubdued his pains”—

“Wrapp’d in his robe, whiteLeprahides his stains,

Robb’d of his strength, but unsubdued his pains”—

when tottering palsy has been discharged from Wisbaden and Wildbad, as much reduced in general, as recruited in local power—when blighted ambition, wounded pride, ruined fortunes, and corroding cares, have sapped the energies of mind and body, and marked their impress on the pale and sickly countenance—when the “green and yellow melancholy” of hopeless love or severed affections wanes to the alabaster hue on the maiden’s cheek—thenSchwalbach, with its ruby fountains and sparkling gases, comes to the rescue, and works as many miracles and metamorphoses as steel and carbonic acid can any where effect. The saline spas of Germany are all of the radical cast. They are qualified to break down and expel the rotten and decayed parts of the constitution—but they can seldom build up or repair the vacant spaces. The chalybeate spas, among whichSchwalbachholds a distinguished rank, unite the principles of conservatism and reform. They are calculated to preserve the original constitution, and tore-form those portions that have been pulled down and extruded by the “mouvement,” or radical waters of the saline class.

In none of the three springs is there more than three-fourths of a grain of iron to the pint—and in the Pauline—the most fashionable one—there is little more than half a grain; but it contains nearly 40 cubic inches of carbonic acid gas to the pint, which, with six grains of carbonate of sodium, two grains of carbonate of lime, and nearly three grains of magnesia, makes it the most ætherial and aperient of the three sisters. The water of the Wein-brunnen is limpid, pleasant to the taste, and sparkling like champaigne. It is very easy of digestion, even when taken in considerable quantity. Almost immediately after being swallowed, it produces an agreeable warmth in the stomach, and thence diffuses a sensation of comfort, nearly amounting to pleasure, through the whole frame. It acts gently on the bowels in most cases. It is easily preserved in bottles for any length of time.

The Stahl-brunnen is the greatest favourite with the ladies. It contains about three-fourths of a grain of iron, and little more than three grains of other substances in the pint. It is sharper and rougher to the taste, and has more of the inky gout than either of the other springs. It is also much more refreshing and exhilarating. The carbonic acid is very abundant. The waters more nearly resemble Champaigne than the other sources, and quickly diffuse a powerful energy over the whole frame. Formerly these waters caused an eruption on the skin; but they do not so at present.

The Pauline was only discovered in 1828, at a depth of fourteen feet. The quantity it discharges is prodigious. The taste is extremely agreeable and refreshing. It is one of the mildest and purest chalybeates that is known. It is very easy of digestion, and operates very gently on the bowels. By quickly amalgamating itself with the blood, it is rapidly diffused through every organ and tissue of the body, producing favourable changes there, and proving a general restorative. The vigor which it inspires is remarkable from day to day—and the change of complexion from pale to rosy, is equally surprising.

The waters of Schwalbach, generally belong to the class of æthereal or volatile chalybeates—very agreeable to the palate, and producing a slight and temporary feeling of intoxication. Their chief ingredients are steel and carbonic acid, in such a state of combination as gives the iron a great efficacy in consequence of its minute solution in the waters.

“At the same time (says Dr. Fenner,) that this spring causes agreeable sensations in the palate and stomach, it excites the muscular fibres and the nerves of the whole alimentary canal, into a state of activity—invigorates the circulation—corrects the secretions—increases them when defective—and gives new vigor to the whole process of digestion and nutrition. In doing this it enlivens the spirits, and imparts tone to the intellectual functions.”

The indications for using the Schwalbach chalybeates, according to the same authority, are the following:—

1. In atony or debility of the stomach and bowels, whether from natural constitution, or from excesses previously committed—whether isolated from other complaints, or connected with affections of other organs, as the liver, spleen, &c. This atony eventuating in difficult, painful, or imperfect digestion, with all its consequences, is remedied by the waters. It is in these kinds of complaints that the Stahl-brunnen is chiefly employed—“the Wein-brunnen being too strong, and the Pauline too volatile.” Strict regimen, in such cases, is indispensible.

2. When the blood is in a watery or deteriorated condition—when it is deficient in red globules—and consequently not fitted to support the energies of the muscles, the tone of the nerves, or the functions of the great organs of assimilation, secretion, &c. It is in such cases that the chalybeatesproduce their most brilliant and unequivocally good effects. Females, from the delicacy of their constitutions, the effects of civilization, and certain disorders to which their sex subjects them, are the peculiar votaries of these springs. Hence those affected with chlorosis—with hæmorrhages—with menorrhagia—hysteria—obstructions, &c. are seen flocking to Schwalbach, there to regain strength, colour, and health.

“Quels que les noms des maladies qui se developpent, ici le malade peut esperer, avec raison, d’etre gueri. Quelques semaines suffisent souvent pour regenerer ses humeurs d’une maniere sensible.”

Although this is the assurance of aSpa Doctor, yet the nature of these waters, and the reputation they have obtained, produce a considerable degree of confidence in the assertion of Dr. Fenner.

3. In great weakness of the nerves, and where their influence is not sufficient to impart energy to the various functions, particularly of chylification and sanguification, the chalybeates of Schwalbach are said to have proved eminently serviceable. Dr. Fenner asserts their efficacy in hypochondriasis, hysteria, melancholia, and in partial and complete paralysis. In sterility they have also acquired considerable reputation.

The waters of Schwalbach have limits to their medicinal agency, and are even injurious in many states of disease.

1. In plethoric states of the constitution, accompanied by irritable condition of the heart and great vessels—in sanguineous temperaments—and in all cases where there is a tendency to local inflammation or general fever—or even to congestion in any of the organs or tissues of the body. “High attacks of acute inflammation, of hæmorrhage, and of apoplexy, have followed the imprudent employment of these chalybeates.”—Fenner.

2. In those cases of indigestion, connected with, or dependent on, organic disease of stomach, liver, spleen, kidneys, or mesenteric glands, these waters would be improper and hurtful.

3. But the chalybeates of Schwalbach are not to be recommended in cases where the vital powers aregreatlyprostrated—the blood and humours extremely vitiated—or the nervous system too much shattered. “Those who venture on these waters, under such circumstances, and where the constitution is at so low an ebb,—‘trouvent, loin des siens et de leur patrie, une mort certaine et premature.’”—Fenner.

The waters are taken fasting. The best season is the spring and summer. From one to three glasses are prescribed, with a quarter of an hour’s exercise between each glass. After this a light breakfast, where the bath is not used.

These are prescribed in the morning, after taking a glass or two of the waters. They are generally given at a low temperature, such as 90° of Fahrenheit, unless ordered otherwise. They therefore are several degrees lower than the heat of the bather’s blood, and about the same heat as theexternalsurface of the body. They feel neither warm nor cold; but it is asserted by Sir F. Head, who used them for some time, that they impart a feeling of invigoration soon after immersion—and “he could almost have fancied himself lying with a set of hides in a tan-pit.” The same author remarks that they are very apt to produce—“headaches, sleepiness, and other slightly apoplectic symptoms.” He thinks these effects must result from not immersing the head as well as the body. In this he is mistaken. The best way to avoid such consequences is to keep the head cool—and the atmosphere of the bath is and must be many degrees below that of the water. The bare head will therefore be cooler out of the bath than in it. But the fact is, that the symptoms above-mentioned are not seldom apt to occur in all tepid and warm baths, from the action of the waters on the nervous and vascular systems of the surface, producing an excitement and determination to the brain. They should be taken as warnings, and not be trifled with.

Upon the whole, the waters of Schwalbach, from what I could learn on the spot, and from those who have prescribed them, and used them, are very useful and mild chalybeates, which may be considered as a kind of “finish,” after the powerful alterative waters of Wisbaden, and the strong alkaline waters of Ems;—always remembering thatSchlangenbadis to give apolishto the surface at the end of the process.

There are few places where a stranger can have a better coup-d’œil of German habits and manners, than at thespas; where all ranks and classes, from the prince to the peasant, are jumbled together, without ever jostling each other. They drink together, bathe together, walk together, talk together, smoke together, joke together, dine together, muse together, sup together—and, then go to bed, all with the greatest decorum, quietude, civility—and I may add, ceremony.

“The company,” says Sir F. Head, “which comes to the brunnens for health, and which daily assembles at dinner, is of a most heterogeneous description, being composed of princes, dukes, barons, counts, &c. down to the petty shop-keeper, and even the Jew of Frankfort, Mainz, and other neighbouring towns; in short, all the most jarring elements of society, at the same moment, enter the same room, to partake together, the same one shilling and eight-penny dinner—still, all those invaluable forms ofsociety which connect the guests of any private individual were most strictly observed; and, from the natural good sense and breeding in the country, this happy combination was apparently effected without any effort. No one seemed to be under any restraint, yet there was no freezing formality at one end of the table, nor rude boisterous mirth at the other. With as honest good appetites as could belong to any set of people under the sun, I particularly remarked that there was no scrambling for favourite dishes;—to be sure, here and there, an eye was seen twinkling a little brighter than usual, as it watched the progress of any approaching dish which appeared to be unusually sour or greasy, but there was no greediness, no impatience, and nothing which seemed for a single moment to interrupt the general harmony of the scene; and, though I scarcely heard a syllable of the buzz of conversation which surrounded me; although every moment I felt less and less disposed to attempt to eat what for some time had gradually been coagulating in my plate; yet, leaning back in my chair, I certainly did derive very great pleasure, and I hope a very rational enjoyment, in looking upon so pleasing a picture of civilized life.”

It must be candidly confessed that this scene, which is every where the same, exhibits a striking contrast to spa-society in England, where each class forms a clique that repels its neighbour, as one electrified ball repels another. It is therefore highly desirable that thecauseof this happy concordance throughout the whole chain of society on the Continent, should be ascertained, in order, if possible, to introduce it into our own country. Sir F. Head seems to attribute it to a high degree ofcivilization or refinement. “I fear it cannot be denied that we islanders are very far from being as highly polished as our continental neighbours.” If civilization consist incivility, I admit the truth of this assertion. But a Gentoo is even morecivilthan a German—and a Chinese is more ceremonious than either—yet we do not place the Hindoo or the Hong at the very top of the tree of civilization.

But I apprehend that this harmonious amalgamation of all ranks and classes in Germany is not to be traced to one, but to several causes. I would attempt to account for the phenomenon by one, or more, or all of the following circumstances.

1. Natural disposition.—2. Education, inducing habit.—3. Comparative paucity of trade, commerce, and manufactures.—4. Government.

1. We see peculiarities in the natural dispositions of nations, as well as of men. Some evince a disposition to music, another to arms, a third to navigation, a fourth to agriculture, a fifth to commerce, &c. The Germans may have a natural disposition to order, quietude, and politeness. Of this I am by no means sure.

2. What is man, individually or collectively, but the creature of those circumstances in which he is placed?—of the elements around him—of the education impressed on him—of the religion within his breast—of theexamples before his eyes? In all the lauded and laudable traits of character delineated by Sir. F. Head, the German has been trained from his infancy—and from these he has neither inducement nor inclination to deviate.

3. The third circumstance I consider to be very operative. The struggles, the collisions, the jealousies—the host of evil and of exciting passions, which agitate a commercial, trading, maritime, and manufacturing country like England, have, comparatively, no field in Germany; where life is far more allied to agricultural and pastoral, than to commercial and manufacturing pursuits. There is as much difference between the Germans and the English, generally, as between the peasantry of Lincolnshire and the mechanics of Birmingham—between the chaw-bacons of Hampshire, and the black and white devils of Merthyr-Tidvill and Sheffield.

4.Government.—I attribute no small share to this class of influential causes in modifying the manners of a nation. In absolute monarchies, where the will of the sovereign is the law of the people, thelatterare not likely to be so frisky, boisterous, and turbulent, as under a limited and constitutional government, inclining to democracy, where the vox populi is not seldom the vox Dei—and where—

——Imprisoned factions roar,And rampant Treason stalks from shore to shore.

——Imprisoned factions roar,

And rampant Treason stalks from shore to shore.

On another occasion I shall allude to the minuteness with which the German governments regulate the most trifling concerns of life, when mentioning that a passenger in a public diligence is forbidden to move from the seat allotted to him, to the next vacant one at his side, without permission from the post-master of the first town at which the conveyance stops! In such countries would the Age, the Satirist, or even theTimesbe long allowed to take liberties with crowned heads, courts, or ministers? No verily! Their tongues would soon be as smooth, and civil and ceremonious, as those of the crowds of spa-drinkers around the Wein-Brunnen of Schwalbach![25]

Whether the state of things on the South side of the Channel be better or worse than that on the North, I presume not to say. Davus sum, nonŒdipus. But I think I have proved that, while these differences exist, the manners and habits of Germany are not likely to blend or amalgamate with those of England. Nothing, I think, would produce this fusion of the two people, except some strange geographical revolution that might convert the British Isles into a small appendix to the Continent; without “ships, colonies, or commerce”—without iron mines or coal mines—without cotton or cutlery—without fisheries or factories—without steam-engines or printing-presses—but above all, without that great national or normal school of agitation—theParliament—where deputies learn to “speak daggers,” and chartists are encouraged to make pikes—where orations are directed not to the ears of theCommons, but to the eyes of theConstituents—where the campaign is opened with a speech recommending concord; carried on with speeches full of discord; and concluded with a speech of gracious accord—finally, where multiplicity ofmotionin the beginning is synonymous with paucity ofactionin the end. When all these incentives to turbulence shall have vanished, and also when English stomachs shall prefer sour krout and rancid oil to roast beef and brown stout, then, and not till then, may Sir Francis hope to see his favourite Germanpolishand Gallicvarnishlacquering over the rough manners of his native Isle.

Many a time have I dragged my weary limbs up the series of steep terraces that lead to the old red Castle of Heidelberg. Not being able to feign ecstasies which I do not feel, I fear I shall give great offence to those sentimental tourists who discover in this town, castle, and surmounting hills, romantic views and picturesque beauties of the first order. Upon this, as upon all other occasions, I appeal to the unbiassed feelings of the traveller himself. The mouldering ruins of the Red Castle have something about them too modern for antiquity, and too antiquated for the modern. I am unable to give anyarchitecturalexplanation of this impression—unless it be the following:

“I do not like thee Mr. Bell,The reason why, I cannot tell!”

“I do not like thee Mr. Bell,

The reason why, I cannot tell!”

The view from the Castle, and from the Botanical Garden above it, over the alluvial plain that stretches to the Rhine, and embracing the country to the West of that river, is interesting, but neither striking nor romantic. The tinyNeckar, that meanders along its rocky bed, in the travelling season, excites our apprehensions lest it should fare the fate of the Arethusa, and disappear altogether. When heavy rains descend among the mountains of the Black Forest however, it makes up for its torpidity in the dry weather, and thunders past Heidelberg in great foam and fury.

In rambling through the streets of Heidelberg, whose University is one of the crack seminaries in Germany, we cannot help recognizing the students, although deprived of their red caps and long hair, by order of Government. They have a semi-academic, semi-barbarous,—or, perhaps, more properly speaking, a semi-ruminating, semi-fumigating appearance, not very distantly allied to the revolutionary or bandittal.

The German students of this and other Universities having ineffectually endeavoured to regenerate—id est—to revolutionize their country, were put under thebanof Austria and Prussia, a procedure which very completely secured them against doing any mischief—to the State. Thus cramped in their generous and patriotic enterprize to involve society in war, they formed societies for warring among themselves, called theverbondungs, or congresses, for regulating, arranging, and conducting duels!! The following graphic description of one of these fights, was drawn up on the scene of action, in November 1839, by an eye-witness.

“On Wednesday last, as I took my customary walk after dinner, a friend came up to me, and told me that he perceived by various circumstances that a ‘lorgehen’ was about to take place. He pointed out to me a man sauntering lazily along the bridge, with a basket slung over his shoulder, and who stopped at every minute to look down into the water, or watch a barge dragged with difficulty against the stream by its single horse. An old woman sat at the corner of a house, a short distance up the river, in a position which commanded a view of the bridge and the road from the town, and a man pushed a boat about objectless in the middle of the river. These, to the initiated eye, gave certain evidence of what was going on; these persons being all employed in watching, that an alarm may be given in case of the police gaining information of the affair. We walked for some distance up the right bank of the Neckar, till we arrived at the opening of a mountain gorge, down which a small stream rushed impetuously, and from which a girl was apparently filling her pails. We ascended this pass for a short distance till we arrived at a dirty, dilapidated house, which my companion pointed out as the scene of these disgraceful combats. We ascended to the door of the beer-shop by a flight of broken steps, and passed through a passage into a yard, where two men were grinding, to the highest pitch of sharpness, a long, thin, basket-handled rapier; the blade resembled, in shape and sharpness, two blades of a pen-knife placed back to back. In a few minutes we mounted to the first floor, and traversing a low room set out with tables and benches for refreshment, passed into a lofty and spacious saloon, without furniture of any sort, but a few forms placed against the walls, and a table with towels and a basin of water, in one corner. In the opposite corner of the room, at about four yards apart, were marked upon the floor two letters in chalk; these, the initials of the verbondungs to which the combatants belonged, marked the position of the fighters. A few students stood listlessly about,smoking or talking in whispers. A man entered, and threw down near the scene of action a bundle of swords, a huge, thickly stuffed glove, reaching to the shoulder, and a piece of matting resembling a mattress, to be tied round the middle of the second, to guard against chance thrusts. Thus some minutes passed, till at length one of the gladiators themselves appeared. He was a short, but strongly and beautifully proportioned young man, having a pleasing countenance, with a thin silky moustache, and long glossy, black hair, reaching far below his cap, which was drawn closely over his eyes, and bore the colours of his club. His body, from the chest downwards, was enveloped in a thickly stuffed leather apron, impervious to every blow, but slashed and stained in a hundred places from the effects of former contests. The neck was covered also with a thick defence, above which he could hardly lift his chin. Lastly, his right arm was bandaged, and wrapped so carefully with paddings, that it was necessary to have a person to support it until the moment of fighting. The body was only covered by a ragged and dirt-soiled shirt. Thus equipped, with his sword-arm resting on the neck of a companion, the little hero began to walk up and down the room to promote circulation and to exercise the limbs. In a few minutes his antagonist entered, habited in the same manner, his cap decked with his peculiar colour, resting his arm likewise on a friend. He was a tall and handsome youth, his face was pale as death, but his step was firm as he paced the saloon for the same purpose as the other. At this minute not a sound was heard but the tramping of the two combatants and their seconds as they passed and repassed each other without the slightest regard. Neither of them spoke a word, and the seconds but seldom addressed to them in a whisper some sentence of advice or caution. Presently a movement was observed towards the approaching scene of action; the few and almost indifferent spectators drew round, and a chair was placed within, beside which the judge stood to mark the number of the rounds. The combatants were led to their respective posts, their right arms extended, holding their rapiers in hand, and resting still on the arm of a friend. The seconds planted themselves at their left side, equipped in their defensive trappings, and holding above their heads a blunted sword. ‘Silentium!’ exclaimed the judge. The quiet which reigned before became instantly doubly quiet. One second cried aloud, ‘Verbindite Kling’ (‘fasten blades’ literally), placing at the same time, the point of his mock weapon a little in advance of his principal, the other doing likewise. ‘Los’ instantly followed, and the glittering swords of the two gladiators were crossed for battle. A moment they looked at one another, then their blades flashed in the air, a blow was struck and parried, and the seconds struck their arms up with a cry of ‘Halt!’ The heavy sword arm was again rested on the attendants, and a moment’s pause ensued. ‘Silentium!’ repeated the judge, and another round began. Whenever a blow was aimed, whether it took effect or not,the seconds interfered, and the round was ended. Thus they continued through twenty-two onsets without pause, except to replace a broken blade, or for a fresh cap on the head of the combatants. The latter of the two was a wary swordsman, who had fought frequently before. He watched cautiously the movement of his adversary, and, whenever his stroke failed, made a quick and well-directed blow at his head. He, though it was his first battle, guarded well: but at length the blade of his opponent passed like lightning through his cap, and inflicted an awful wound on his head. A large space was laid bare, and his whole person deluged in blood: his long thick hair hung matted and discoloured over his shoulders. In a few moments, however, he retaliated fully upon his antagonist, his face was laid open from the ear to the nose, effectually marking him for life. In all, five wounds were given, three of which the smaller of the two received, having, besides that on the head, one under the right arm and one under the ear; the other had also a gash under the ear. In about twenty minutes the number of onsets was completed; the combatants retired, their padding was taken off, and the worst part of the affair began—namely, the sewing up of the wounds. Here they are in the habit (as if to punish as much as possible the folly of these duels) ofsewingup even comparatively trifling wounds, so that the mark is seen certainly for years after its infliction. The tall man in a short time was able to walk home; the other, however, was compelled to have a carriage, so weak had he become from loss of blood. This, I must tell you, was an unusually bloody combat, as in two others, which I saw immediately after, not a single wound was given. The average number of duels taking place daily is seven: the consequence is, that every third man you meet in the street has a gash across his face.”

Bad as is British pugilism, it is exceeded in atrocity by this barbarous system of German duelism. What says the government to it? Virtually and literally this:—“you are naughty boys, and deserve to be punished for thus hacking and carving each other; but, as paternal solicitude for the happiness of our loving subjects is our ruling principle, we will—pension a surgeon to sew up your wounds. There, now, be gone—but mind, young gentlemen! nopoliticaldiscussion in your verbondungs! If you are ever caught atthat, perpetual incarceration will be your lot!” This is literally the fact. The state not only winks at this Gothic war among the students, but pays a state surgeon for attending the wounded![26]

The parents of youths going to universities of all kinds, have some reason for anxiety—if they knew all:—but theverbondungsof Germany are a disgrace to civilized Europe!

Along almost the whole way from Wisbaden to Baden-Baden, we have Belgium on our right, and Devonshire on our left. The road, which generally skirts the bases of the undulating hills to the eastward, has hardly a rise or fall, the alluvial and fertile plain stretching away to the Rhine, till the mountains of Alsace arrest the attention on the western bank of that river. The whole space between the hills and the river, was, indisputably, a lake, at some remote period, drained by the breaking down of some obstruction to the stream—probably in the vicinity of the present Lurley-rocks.

Five or six miles from Rastadt and the Rhine, embosomed in a narrow dell, and encircled by steep and wooded hills, lies the far-famedBaden-Baden. The comparative localities of Wisbaden and this place, might be imagined by supposing the former to be a saucer, and the latter an egg-cup. And yet the air of Baden, though in an egg-cup, is fresher if not purer, than that of its celebrated rival of Nassau, where there are no eminences of any altitude within some miles of the town. It is true that the thermal springs of Wisbaden are a few degrees higher in temperature than those of Baden, but this is quite insufficient to account for the difference of atmosphere.

A very few visits to the wells in the morning, the hells in the evening, and the hotels in the middle of the day, will convince any observant traveller that three-fourths of the sojourners at Baden, go there to drink wine rather than water—and to lose money, rather than regain health.

The thermal springs here are of great antiquity. They served to scour the Roman legions stationed at Baden, in the days of Aurelian, as they now do to scald the pigs and poultry of the butchers and poulterers of the same place. The far-famed Ursprung issues from the ruins of an old Roman structure on the side of a hill overlooking the town, at a temperature of 154 degrees of Fahrenheit, and in quantities sufficient to wash and drench the whole town, visitors and all. The water is translucid, and tastes much less either of the chickens or salt, than its contemporary of the Kochbrunnen at Wisbaden. It has, however, especially in the baths, a very faint odour of bear’s grease, or green fat, which I have noticed when speaking of the Kochbrunnen. The whole of the solid contents in a pint of the water, are only about 24 grains, of which common salt makes 16 grains, the other ingredients being chiefly lime, in different combinations with sulphuric, muriatic, and carbonic acids. There is just iron enough for the chemists to swear by—but not for the drinkers to distinguish by taste.

Whatever mayhavebeen the reputation of the Baden waters, taken internally, I apprehend that their fame is not very great in the present day. On several successive mornings, between five and eight o’clock, atthe Ursprung, I never could muster more than 130 bibbers—many of whom appeared to have been attracted to the Paleotechnicon from curiosity rather than in search of health. Except occasionally a fashionable lady’s-maid, or governess, no English were seen at the spring. The waters being led, however, into all the principal hotels, where there are baignoires in abundance, the number of bathers outstrip very considerably the number of bibbers. Although the waters of Baden are neither so potent when drunk, nor so stimulant when bathed in, as those of Wisbaden and many other places, yet they manage to do a fair proportion of the annual mischief occasioned by hot mineral springs in general. Thermal spas and quack doctors, indeed, have more good luck than usually falls to the lot of men and things. They completely reverse the order of events in the moral world. Their good actions are graven onbrass—their evil deeds are written inwater. Unless some illustrious character receive his quietus in a hot bath—as the Duke of Nassau did at Kissengen—

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