Young Americans Abroad
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The churches are large, but look barn-like. The organ of the old church
is very rich in its decorations; and here, as at Harlem, men sit in
church with their hats on, if they choose. The clergy wear a short,
black cloak, and deep white ruffs on the neck. The Jews are quite
numerous, and have several synagogues. They live mostly in one part of
the city. I do not think we shall any of us forget our visit to the
picture gallery at Amsterdam. Our attention was directed by Mr. S. to
the best paintings, and the particular merits of the artists were kindly
explained to us. The sight of a great picture is an event; and I think
that the day on which I first saw Rembrandt's Night Watch will long be
regarded by me with pleasurable feelings. It is a company of archers,
who are going out with their captain. The lights and shades are
wonderfully introduced. The City Guards of Amsterdam, by Vanderhelst, is
a large picture, with twenty-five portraits, and is esteemed as the
finest portrait picture in the world. But my favorite here is a small
picture called the Night School, by Gerard Dow. I would cheerfully go a
hundred miles on foot to see such a picture. The management of the
lights upon the interior and figures is beyond any thing I have
imagined. His Hermit and Crucifix is another gem. The picture of
Officers plundered by Peasants, by Wouvermans, and several landscapes of
his, are still in my mind's eye; and several pictures by the two
Ostades, Teniers, and Both are quite sufficient to make me understand
how it is that some men have found such fascination in collecting a
gallery. The best specimens of Jan Steen are in this city, and his Fete
of St. Nicholas would take wonderfully well with our good old
Knickerbockers at home. A Landscape, with cattle and figures, by Albert
Cuyp, is strikingly beautiful; and how I wish you could see a Fat Boy,
the son of a burgomaster, by Bartholomew Helst, dated 1648. Vandyke,
whose portraits have never been equalled, has some of his best in this
museum; and his Burgomaster of Antwerp, Vander Brocht, is as bold a
picture as you could wish to gaze at.
Hondekoeter's flowers and fruits, and Snyder's game pieces, are among
the best of their kind in the world. Some of the finest things I have
seen in Holland, in the way of painting, are the little gems descriptive
of life as it lay about the artist--interiors of domestic abodes, and
out-door scenes at the roadside. These, the patient, plodding Dutchmen
have worked up most elaborately. One or two of Nicholas Maes's pictures
are wonderful. I saw one in a private collection, and it was a glorious
thing, though only a Kitchen, with two or three figures. O, how poor are
the things we often hear spoken of as fine pictures! The eye, it seems
to me, obtains its education rapidly in such a gallery as this. I am
sure I shall look at works of art in future with new feelings.
There was a most beautiful Jew boy, about eleven years old, that used to
stand at our hotel door to sell matches, who regularly beset us with his
wares. His face was as striking as any fancy picture you can meet with,
and his beauty and impudence made him a pretty successful merchant.
Mr. Schwartze took us to a noble mansion belonging to a merchant prince,
to see his great picture of Columbus before the Council explaining his
theory. This is a first-class execution. The coloring is very fine, and
the drawing good; and we all felt pride in seeing such a picture from
the easel of our countryman. I wish we had some good painting of his in
America. His portraits are excellent, and one of his wife has earned him
his high reputation in Holland. Through the kindness of this gentleman
we were introduced to the Artists' Club, and spent our evenings there in
very pleasant society. The artists belonging to it are probably about
fifty, and the other gentlemen who mainly support it are about two
hundred. I was much surprised to find nearly every gentleman we were
introduced to speaking excellent English. We met here a very gentlemanly
and accomplished lawyer, Mr. Van Lennep, whose father is a man of great
wealth. His attentions were very friendly. While here, James was quite
poorly with some slight attack of fever; and both our friends and the
consul were unremitting in their services.
The water is very poor; rain water is valuable indeed. The best drinking
water is brought from Utrecht in stone demijohns. The bad water is often
used, however, flavored with Schiedam. We saw several of the
floating-houses, in which whole families reside, and carry articles from
place to place. The herring fishery, in its season, is a great matter in
the commerce of Amsterdam. Every thing here impresses the stranger with
the idea of activity, wealth, and great comfort; and I fancy that a
person would very soon become attached to the city as a place of
residence. To-morrow, if James is better, we resume our journey, and
start for Cologne.
Yours affectionately,
WELD.
Letter 39.
COLOGNE.
DEAR CHARLEY:--
We are strangely favored with weather; every day is fine; and we begin
to think that the climate has been abused, for we have had an
uninterrupted spell of bright, sunny weather. We started, after
breakfast, for our journey to Cologne, and took the oars for Utrecht,
which is twenty-three miles from Amsterdam. Our road was not one of
much interest, beyond the pretty gardens of the suburban residences.
Breukelen and Maarsen we thought pleasant little places. Utrecht is a
large town, and has, I think, nearly sixty thousand inhabitants; and of
these, one half are Catholics. It is rather on an ascent, and so is
unlike any other place we have seen in Holland. The place is famous for
the treaty of 1713. Here is a university, and some very fine private
residences; and the fortifications have been laid out in fine walks. The
Mall, or public walk, is a noble avenue of trees,--limes, I think,--and
they are in six or eight rows. In this place is a cathedral, which we
only saw. From its tower is the best view of the country; and it is said
you can see more than twenty towns from it.
From Utrecht we continued, by railroad, to Arnheim, a distance of
thirty-three miles; and we saw more forest-trees than we had before
noticed. In the cars were several Catholic priests, who smoked
incessantly. Arnheim is on the banks of the Rhine, and is a pretty
little place, of about sixteen thousand inhabitants. We were, of course,
reminded by Dr. C. that here Sir Philip Sidney died, in 1586, of his
wound received in the battle of Zutphen. The entire vicinity seemed to
us a delightful spot, and we have seen no place where the houses appear
so English and American. The scenery is very attractive; and we would
have liked to stay over a day, but the steamer for Ruhrort was ready to
start, and we had only time to get our tickets and go on board. We found
a neat, comfortable boat, and met pleasant society. The Rhine here is
bounded by flat shores, and has no points of interest, and affords no
promise of what it is so soon to be. We entered Prussia at Lobith, and
had a very thorough examination of our trunks by officers who came on
board. At Wesel--a town, I think, of some twelve thousand inhabitants,
and having a very strong fortress--we stopped half an hour, and a crowd
came round the boat. Rapin, who wrote the History of England, lived here
while engaged in the task. How singular it is that all the histories of
England, of any note, have been written by men not born in England! They
have been French, Scotch, Irish, &c. We reached Ruhrort in the
afternoon, and left the boat. This is the great central depot where the
coal of the Ruhr is deposited. Here we crossed in a ferry boat, rode a
mile or two in an omnibus, and then took the cars for Cologne, after
waiting some hour or two, in consequence of a delay--the first we have
met with on any railroad on the continent. It was dark when we passed
through Dusseldorf; and we felt sorry not to stay here and see the
water-color drawings that remain in this collection, once so famous; but
we were told at Paris that the best of the drawings and pictures have
gone to Munich. In the cars we met a gentleman and his lady who were
evidently Americans. We entered into conversation, and found they were
from Nashville, Tennessee. They bad been travelling very extensively in
Europe, and had been through Egypt, crossed the desert, and visited
Syria and the Holy City. I quite respected a lady, Charley, who had
travelled hundreds of miles upon a camel. The journey had been very
beneficial to her health. We reached Cologne at about ten o'clock, after
crossing over a bridge of boats fourteen hundred feet long, and went to
the Hotel Holland, on the banks of the river, and found it a very good
house, with a grand view of the Rhine; and the chambers are as good as
can be desired. Few places are more fruitful in the reminiscences which
they furnish than this old city. Cologne has a Roman origin, and was
settled by a colony sent by Nero and his mother, who was born here, in
her father's camp, during the war. It still retains the walls of its
early fortifications, built as long ago as the twelfth and thirteenth
centuries. In Cologne Caxton lived, in 1470, and learnt the new art of
printing, which he carried to England and introduced there. Its present
population is about ninety thousand, having increased latterly, and, no
doubt, will rapidly increase, in consequence of its connection with
Paris, Strasburg, Berlin, Antwerp, and other cities, by railroads.
We turned our steps very early to the Cathedral, and here we expected
nothing less than a treat; but much as we had heard of it, and often as
the doctor had described it, we found it far beyond all our
anticipations. The church was commenced in 1248, and is still far from
completed. It is always thought to be one of the grandest Gothic piles
in the world. The name of the architect is not known. Gerhard is the
earliest builder whose name is associated with this church, in 1252. The
plan was to build the two towers five hundred feet high; but the
loftiest has only attained the height of about one hundred and
eighty-five feet. Much of the external work is in decay; but great pains
and cost have been given to repair the stone work, and the work is going
on with vigor and success. It is supposed that it will require three
millions of dollars to carry out the design. The form of the church is a
cross, and "the arches are supported by a quadruple row of sixty-four
columns; and, including those of the portico, there are more than one
hundred. The four columns in the middle are thirty feet in
circumference, and each of the one hundred columns is surmounted by a
chapiter different from the others." On one tower still exists the old
crane which raised the stones that came from Drachenfels. The only part
of the cathedral yet finished is the choir. This is one hundred and
sixty-one feet high; and, whether you look at it outside, or gaze on
its interior, you are lost in admiration. The stained windows are really
beyond all others I have seen. All round the choir stand colossal
statues of the Apostles, the Virgin, and the Savior. In a chapel not far
from the altar is the renowned shrine of the Three Kings, or Magi, who
came from the East with gifts to the infant Savior. These bones once
rested at Milan; but Frederic Barbarossa, in 1162, gave them to an
archbishop of Cologne. So here they are in a case, silver gilt, and
arcades on pillars all round; and, inside the pillars, little gold
prophets and apostles. The jewelry at this shrine has been formerly
valued at six millions of francs; but in some of its transportations in
troublous times, it has met with spoliations; but it is still radiant
with gold and pearls, and gems of all descriptions. The restoration of
the shrine is going on, and costly offerings are frequently made in aid
of the undertaking. The skulls of these worthies are crowned with gold,
and look ghastly enough, in spite of diamonds and rubies. Their names
are Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar. We paid a heavy fee to see the rare
show; but it is well enough to understand the mummery that there is in
the world. We went the entire round of the little chapels, and saw some
fine monuments to the great ones of church and state. I was much pleased
with a bronze statue of Archbishop Conrad, of Hocksteden, who died in
1261, and some exceedingly old paintings. We also saw the library and
sacristy, and the sacred vestments, some of which were splendid enough.
Here we saw a bone of St. Matthew some saint's shrine in silver, and the
state cross of the archbishop, with several of the very finest ivory
carvings that we have fallen in with. A look at the vast workshop where
the stone carvings for restoration are made was quite interesting.
While wandering through the aisles of the Cathedral, we met with a very
pleasant family from New York; and, after introduction, we agreed to
make the passage of the Rhine together; and, as there are young people
in the party, this will be very agreeable to us. We have rather a
limited time to pass here, and so have concluded to neglect the Virgin's
bones, at St. Ursula's Church, of which we have read all the legends.
Men and women trained up to worship these odds and ends are the people
who are flocking by thousands to our country; and there is a great deal
for such folks to learn before they will value and understand our
privileges. We next turned our steps to St. Peter's Church, where Rubens
was baptized; and we saw the brass font, which is still there, and also
his father's tomb. It was to this church that the great painter
presented his famous Crucifixion of Peter, which he thought the best he
ever painted; but artists differ with him in this estimate. The picture
now exposed to view is only a copy, which was made in Paris when the
original was in the Louvre; but the man in charge turns the picture,
which is on a pivot, and you have the original before you. Peter's head
is very fine, and much more striking than the rest of the body. The
little garden in the cloisters of this church is very sweet, and there
are some good bits of sculpture. The beautiful Church of the Apostles we
could not see, excepting outside, and its appearance is quite singular.
The styles of architecture I thought strangely mixed up. Of course, we
got some cologne water at the genuine fountain head in Julich's Place;
and in the evening we made an examination of a curiosity shop, where we
found a fine old engraving of Rubens's head, and two excellent
engravings of Ostades's interiors. They are gems in their way, and,
though very old, are perfect. We saw the house where the unfortunate
Queen of France died, in 1644, respecting whose last days so interesting
a fiction has been written; and we were told that it was also the very
house in which Rubens was born. At all events, it is a very plain
establishment for such celebrity as it possesses. We have also seen a
military review here; but the discipline was poor, and only the music
good.
A gentleman here from America, engaged in the wine trade, has amused us
all by his facts in relation to champagne, which is here manufactured
in large quantities, and is fabricated from a mixture of some ten or
twelve different wines. A very superior brand is the result, which the
good people of America will pay well for, with an appropriate brand duly
furnished to order.
On the roof of our hotel is a sort of room, or garden, called the
Belvedere. In it are a variety of fine plants, in healthy condition. The
roses were very fragrant. The view across the river from this place is
charming; and the village of Deutz looks prettily, with its large hotel
and plenty of smaller houses of resort. To-morrow we go up the Rhine;
and we are all hoping for a fine day, and then we expect a pleasant one.
Yours truly,
JAMES.
Letter 40.
FRANKFORT.
DEAR CHARLEY:--
It was on the Rhine that we all wanted you with us, and other friends,
too, who were far away. This is no common, every-day stream, but one
whose name and renown have been associated with ten thousand pages of
history, song, and legend. We have read of the Rhine, listened to its
songs, drank its wines, dreamed of its craggy, castled banks,--and at
last we found ourselves upon its waters, rushing down from their homes
in Alpine steeps and regions of eternal snow. The deposits of this river
have made Holland what she is; and the rich plains of the Low Countries
have been formed by the alluvial deposits of this noble river. The
enthusiasm of the Germans towards this stream is well known. They call
it Father Rhine, and King Rhine; and well may they be proud of its
beauty and its historic fame. We took our passage in a fine steamer, on
a lovely morning, and it took us about eight hours to reach Coblentz.
Leaving Cologne, we passed an old tower on the edge of the river, and,
for some miles, the prospect was every day enough; and it was not till
we approached Bonn that we were much impressed with the banks. We passed
several villages, which appeared to have pleasant localities. I name
only Surdt, Urfel, Lulsdorf, and Alfter. Bonn is an old city, of Roman
date, and has figured largely in the wars of the Rhine. Its population
is about sixteen thousand. Bonn has a minster, which shows itself finely
to the voyager on the river, and is a Gothic structure of the twelfth
century. The University here is famous for its library, and the great
names formerly associated with this institution--Schlegel and Niebuhr.
Both filled chairs in the college. Prince Albert was educated at this
place. Beethoven was born here. If we could have spent a day at the
Seven Mountains, I should have been glad; but we were only able to look
at them. They vary in height from one thousand and fifty to fourteen
hundred and fifty-three feet. The most picturesque of the group is
Drachenfels; and the beautiful lines of Byron you will recollect, where
he speaks of "the castled crag of Drachenfels." From this place the
stone was taken for the Cathedral at Cologne. The summits of these seven
mountains are crested with ruined castles. Their sides are well wooded,
and around them are spread fruitful vineyards. You know how famous they
are in the legendary lore of the Rhine. The view from Drachenfels is
said to be one of the finest on the river. After leaving Bonn and the
ruins of Godesberg, we soon came to Rolandseck, a lofty eminence, where
are the remains of a baronial fortress and a celebrated ruin of an arch.
I should judge that the access to this place was by a charming road. The
ruins of Rolandseck are immortalized by the ballad of Schiller.
Tradition relates that the castle was destroyed by the Emperor Henry V.,
in the twelfth century. At the foot of the mountain is the sweet little
Island of Nonnenwoerth, of about one hundred acres, and the ruins of a
convent. The rock here is basaltic, and the production of volcanic
action. Never did Nature present a fairer picture than we gazed upon at
this spot. The villages around are pictures of happiness and content,
and the scenery such as only the Rhine can exhibit. Passing by the
charming, rural-looking Oberwinter, we soon came upon a woody height,
where stands the Gothic Church of St. Apollinarisberg. Here is, or was,
the saint's head; and it was formerly a shrine of great resort. Close by
is the little tower Of Remagen, and opposite are basaltic rocky heights
of six or eight hundred feet, on the sides of which are vineyards--the
vines growing in baskets filled with earth and placed in the crevices of
the rocks. No square foot of soil seems to be wasted; and, to improve
the ground, you will find the plots for vines laid out like potato
patches,--some running this way, and others that,--making the sides of
the hills and banks look very much like basket work.
We now came, on our left hand, to the ruins of Okenfels and the pretty
town of Linz. The ruins are very dark, and look as if they were past
redemption; whereas, some of these castles retain fine outlines. The red
roofs of the town are in pleasing contrast with the green woods. This
town seemed quite a business place; and I noticed several sloops and
queer-looking vessels at the piers. On the opposite side the Aar falls
into the Rhine. Just back is a town called Sinzig, and story tells that
here Constantine and Maxentius fought the battle which resulted in the
downfall of paganism. Here it was that, the evening previous,
Constantine saw in the heavens the figure of a cross, with the
inscription, [Greek: "_En touto nika_."] But other
legends give the battle place on the banks of the Tiber.
We were all pleased with a beautiful, modern, castellated building,
erected out of the ruins of an ancient castle, of which a single
venerable tower remains at a small distance. The name is the Castle of
Reineck. It was built for Professor Bethman Holweg, of Bonn, and he
reads his lines in pleasant places. It must have cost much money to rear
such an edifice. Nearly opposite are the ruins of Hammerstein Castle,
where, in 1105, Henry IV. found an asylum. We next came to Andernach.
This is an ancient city, and here you see towers and ruins standing
amidst a wide amphitheatre of basaltic mountains. The place is spoken of
by various old historians, and under several names. The great trade of
the place is in millstones, which find their way even to America. Here
is a celebrated Roman arched gate; but the lancet form would indicate a
later date. On our left, we came to a pleasantly-situated town, called
Neuwied, with some five thousand inhabitants. The streets lie wide; the
houses looked bright, and very much like those in an American town. Here
is a Moravian settlement. On our right is a cheerful little place,
called Weisenthurm, and an ancient tower stands near it. It is said that
here the Romans first made the crossing of this river. This was the spot
where General Hoch passed in 1797; and on a height, at this village, is
a monument to celebrate Hoch's achievement. Here we met with an enormous
raft; and I assure you, Charley, it was a sight. We had seen two or
three small ones before, but here was a monster. These rafts come from
the woods on the tributary rivers--the Moselle, Neckar, Maine, &c. These
prodigious flotillas are bound to Dordrecht, and are there broken up.
This one looked like a town. It had at least twenty-five huts, and some
of them tolerably large shanties; and I should think there were all of
three hundred and fifty persons upon it. On the raft were women,
children, cows, pigs, and sheep. This one was thought to be seven
hundred feet long and two hundred wide, at the least. On our left, as we
ascended the river, we now saw Sain and Muehlhofen, just at the point
where two small rivers enter the Rhine; and on a hill top are the ruins
of a castle of the Counts of Sain. Farther up is the quiet-looking
hamlet of Engers; and we pass the islands of Niederwoerth and Graswoerth.
On the former is a ruined convent, founded in 1242, and a population of
nearly seven hundred. They seem to have a fine old church. I very much
admired the village of Kesselhein, and I think it must be a charming
spot. Close by it is the Palace of Schoenbornhest, where the Bourbon
family retreated at the revolution in the last century. It is now sadly
dilapidated. Just as we were looking at Nuendorf, on our right, we were
all called, by a bend in the river, to gaze on the giant rock of
Ehrenbreitstein, bristling to its very summit with fortifications. O,
how it towers up, and smiles or frowns--which you please--upon Coblentz,
sweetly reposing on the banks of the Rhine and the Moselle! I think the
view from the deck of the steamer, up and down the river, and on each
side, is the noblest panoramic view that I have seen. Just before us is
a bridge of boats, which connects the fortress with Coblentz; and,
looking up the Moselle, is a fine stone bridge. We had our dinner on the
deck of the boat--a good arrangement, because we lost none of the
scenery. This dinner was about midway between Cologne and Coblentz; and
it would have amused you to have noticed the order of the various
courses--soup, boiled beef, raw fish, ducks, roast pork, fowls, pudding,
baked fish, roast beef, and mutton. Every thing was well cooked, and I
never saw people appear more disposed to do justice to a meal. There was
not half the hurry and indecorum that you so often see in an American
boat. One thing I observed--and that was, that no one used the left hand
for the management of his knife. If any thing annoys me, it is to see
persons carve and eat at table with this wretched habit. I always
imagine that they were so unhappy as to have grown up without father or
mother to watch over them. This may be my weakness; but I cannot help
it. We went to the Trois Suisses, a fine house on the river bank, and
from our windows are looking, by moonlight, on the glorious fortress.
Yours truly,
J.O.C.
Letter 41.
FRANKFORT.
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