People's Pilot, Volume 3, Number 44, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 April 1894 — Correspondence. [ARTICLE]

Correspondence.

ACROSS THE HEEP: V “My Castles on the Rhein.” From our Special Correspondent. On a Rhein Boat, Aug. 2, ’93. The time has so long past since my pleasant journey over the romantic Rhein, that it is of doubtful result whether I shall be able to collect the impression in a combined whole so as to be of sufficient interest to any but ■myself. It was with no small anticipations that I set my foot ■on board a North Sea boat bound for the old Dutch city of Rotterdam, which we were told was pronounced with peculiar emphasis on the last syllable by every traveler who ventured within its limits. As we floated down “Old Father Thames,” and left the great London behind us, it w’as with unmixed feelings of delight that we beheld once Snore the free rural grandeur of old Britain at our left and right and the restless wave of the ■ North Sea before us. Many a fishing smack and craft took sufficient notice of us to give and receive the signal “All is well on board.” The North Sea is noted for its treachery. Its waves are as billowy to-day as when Hengst and Horsa turned the the wooden prows toward the chalk cliffs of England, at a time When history was emerging from a myth and our Anglo-Saxon fathers were little less than wild men. We were especially fortunate in having a smooth sea, and consequently little chronic sickness. There is not a body of water of like size that has borne so important a role in the history of commerce as the North Sea. With the awakening of Western Europe to the .possibilities of commercial greatness, the Mediterranean Sea was 'robbed of its entire supremacy as the bearer of water traffic and the waters of the West became the favorite resort of the sailor. Since the days of the greatness of the Dutch Republic, the North Sea and Channel have carried the greater bulk of of the commerce of West Europe. The harbors that skirt its shores are forests of masts and gay with |he emblems of all nations, among the least of which is our own.

»The trip from London to Rotterdam is not long. It was about daylight as we passed into the mouth of the Rhein and neared our place of landing. The shores of this part of Holland are very low and it has been an heroic fight of the natives to keep the sea from overwhelming the land. Their heroic struggle against the powers of nature expressed in their most turbulent form—the ocean—has been crystalized in story and legend, and passed into the possession of every tongue. You can distinguish a a people whose life has been constantly threatened, whose home is on the watery wastes, or whose soil is so near the level of water as to make huge canals not only possible, but imperative It was not long before we were bound up the Rhein for a 300 mile ride to Frankfurt-on-the-

Main. The life and landscape cj Holland and Belgium have few elements in their composition and therefore one must expect monotony as the principal result. The Dutchman is a slow plodding person who has been taught by the necessities of nature to make head. against difficulties. He is not a quick, nervous person, but acts slowly and, to the casual observer, in a rather obtuse manner. He takes to watar like a duck, for this is his principal element. Hisliome is as plain as himself. The house he lives in is free of much if not any ornamentation. Here it was that I saw that one characterisistic of Dutch rural life, the wind mill for purposes of grinding grain. Almost every high piece

of ground is crowned with this ungainly piece of mechanism. I could not but sympathize with Don Quixote in his famous effort to destroy those that beset his way, thinking that they were some monsters that needed the attention of a chivalric hand in their destruction. Yet to destroy them would be to rob Holland, Belgium and a greater part of Germany, of that most frequent rural landmark, and make many a peasant poor indeed. The other features of Holland landscape are known to all who are in my way familiar with Dutch artists. A canal whose banks are shaded now and then with clumps of low spreading trees protecting from the heat a group of cattle, completes the most common details of her rural aspect. The banks of the Rhein are comparatively low r until one nears Cologne, and then you are plunged into a gradually interesting country which reaches a climax of splendor and beauty between Bohn and Coblenz. In spite of the low, monotonous banks we were constantly delighted w T ith old and new surprises naturally attendant on one’s introduction into the customs and ways of a new civilization. At the same time we were conscious of the vast historic interest that has built itself up in connection with this majestic river. No other body of water has played such an interesting and important part in the history of Western Europe as the Rhein, and to-day it is a natural if not a political boundary between France and Germany. In case of war between the two countries, the Rhein is an important factor in Germany’s defense. It is to-day a much used bearer of freight to the interior of the continent, and many a huge, heavy laden boat was making its slow and weary battle against the rather swift current of the stream. It -was with due appreciation and pleasure that we were gradually introduced into a more rolling country, for it presents a more varied picture to the observer. One is impressed with the splendid condition in which the banks of the river are kept. In most places both banks are paved with stone to prevent the action of the waves formed by the movement of the boats, as .well as the stream. At times our boat would halt at interesting points in order to permit the passengers to view things that attracted. The most interesting of these was the city of Cologne. The one thing there which the visitor desires to see is the famous cathedral which stands as the most impressive monument that Gothic genius has reared. Its airy spires in the splendor of an evening sun is a picture of beauty .that will scarcely be forgotten, and will hardly be surpassed save by the venerable majesty of St. Peter’s Cathedral at Rome.

From Cologne to Coblenz the Rhein, as we know it in song and romance, legend and history, breaks upon the traveler who has traversed its more interest ing points, like an oasis of beauty and grandeur in the midst of a desert of commonplace country. Here we find “our castles on the Rhein,” as our boat glides noiselessly around some bend and brings to view a rocky promontory, crowned with the crumbling walls of some old castle—an emblem of the past when kings and nobles loved to bask in the sunlight of the vine clad banks of the Rhein. Legend, story, romance cling as closely to these crumbling walls as do the ivy and the vine. It is a busy person that does not escape some beautiful incident that might point a or a picturesque ruin still clinging to the sides of the hills. It is claimed that Napoleon made sad havoc with many of these dwellings of the German nobility in his various wars, and it was

with no little spleen that the Germans would point us a ruined wall with the comment that Napolean had bombarded it. Many of the modern residences belong to Englishmen who have taken a fancy to the Rhein as a summer resort. Their tastes are certainly healthy. As one passes along he attempts to analize the elements that combine to produce this picture which has so enchanted all travelers of modern times. One thing that lends a pleasing effect, is the ffact that banks or rather hill sides are so beautifully and artisticly cultivated in grape culture. Where the slopes are steep, stone walls are constructed in order to give protection to the vine. It has the appearance of a beautiful piece of mosaic work and reminds one very much of Bill Nye’s description of farming by scaffolding, for certainly no man could make his way up some of these hillsides, which are extensively cultivated, without the use of a ladder.-, Rhein wine is sour (I am told), but nevertheless has its place in the merry revels of the Germans. One interesting point is the Lorelei Rock which has been chrystalized in a song that is familiar to every German, and to all who have pretended to read any German. Another point will likely be remembered by all who have read McGuffy’s old reader in the poem and song “Fair Bingen on the Rhein.” This is a very pleasantly situated city close down by the bank of the river, while across on the opposite high bank is a magnificent monument erected by the German people in commemoration of the victories over the French in

1870. After Bingen, the river was found traversing a comparatively level country and we were prepared to return to land, which we did at Mainz and went by rail to Frankfurt. A short stay in this old city and were on our way through the heart of Germany, bound for the quaint little city of Jena, where we were to wrestle with the intracacies of the German language.