[Illustration: "Every turn of the river presents a different view." (_See page 303._)]
We glide along, passing island and vineyard, and castle crowned height, with now and then a wide curve in the river, which looks with its smiling face to-day much as it did centuries ago when the old strongholds reared up their piles of masonry in regal splendor, and noble retinues defiled down the narrow mountain paths to the water's edge.
"Thou, unchanged from year to year Gayly shalt play and glitter here; Amid young flowers and tender grass, Thine endless infancy shalt pass; And, singing down thy narrow glen, Shall mock the fading race of men."
From Bingen on the Rhine to Frankfort-on-the-Main.
[Illustration: "Now we behold the little church surrounded by picturesque houses." (_See page 303._)]
_From Bingen on the Rhine to Frankfort-on-the-Main._
Vast Vineyards--Bingen--The Hotel--The Down Quilt--A German Maid--Taverns--The Mouse Tower--Rüdesheim--Niederwald--The Rheingau--The National Monument--The Castle of Niederburg--Wine Vaults--The River--Street Musicians--A Misunderstanding--Frankfort-on-the-Main--The Crossing of the Ford--A Free City--Monument of Goethe--History--A Convocation of Bishops--The City--Monument of Gutenberg--The House in which Rothschild was Born--Luther.
After leaving Königswinter, we pass vast vineyards on both sides of the Rhine, and as we approach Bingen we see them covering the whole mountain-side. Among the vines may be seen what seem like steps encircling the mountain to its very summit, but which in reality are roads or paths through the vineyard. The sturdy and prolific vines grow close to these walks. In this section of the country the greatest care is given to grape culture, hence in Bingen is to be found the finest wine made in the country. In this region are located great breweries and wine vaults extending into the mountain-sides for hundreds of feet. On arriving at Bingen we proceed at once to the Victoria Hotel, a quiet house situated at a convenient distance from both railroad station and steamboat landing. The charges are moderate, and the accommodations good.
Upon entering our sleeping apartment, I observe upon the beds huge fluffy quilts stuffed with soft feathers, and forming a pile at least two feet in thickness, which covers the entire surface from bolster to footboard. This ominous appearance fills me with strange forebodings and wondering thoughts. I say to myself: "God made the country, and man made the town, but who on earth has manufactured these monstrous counterpanes, and for what purpose?" Surely not for ornament, for they are the most unsightly objects I have ever beheld in the line of needlework, and look as if intended to smother hydrophobia patients. But as few dogs are seen hereabout, this does not seem probable. The appearance of a smiling innocent-faced chambermaid interrupts my meditations. She informs me that these great masses of feathers are used to keep the body warm at night. I conclude from this that the Germans are a cold-blooded people, since such a slaughter of the "feathery tribe" is necessary to maintain their normal temperature when in a state of repose. As night advances, I summon up courage to crawl under this fluffy mountain, and in a few moments feel as if a great loaf of freshly-baked bread is lying upon me. The heat is intense, and makes me think of "Eternal torments, baths of boiling sulphur, vicissitudes of fires." I cast it off, and as the nights are chilly, soon find myself too cool. But I will not allow the enemy to return and overpower me, for there is much to be seen hereabout on the morrow, and I know that overgrown spread would absorb all the strength reserved for the occasion. Placing my steamer rug upon the bed, I am soon oblivious to all surroundings and happy in a land of pleasant dreams.