My attention to the various coteries around was drawn off by a slight motion in the crowd, indicating that those nearest the door had gained admittance, and the swell of music borne upon the wind, mingled with the din of the multitude, forcibly reminded me of the far-off roar of Niagara when first I heard it booming in the distance.
A change came o’er the spirit of my dream, and, deeply engrossed by the various associations thus unexpectedly conjured up, I found myself, without being aware of it, at the entrance of the Cathedral.
Never shall I forget the effect of that moment. The vast building lay before me crowded with human beings to the roof, while the loud bray of the organ mingling its artillery of sound with the deafening peal of several hundred instruments was tremendous.
When I had sufficiently recovered from my first sensations of ecstasy, I looked towards the choir, hoping to see Ries or Spohr, both of whom were present, but I could not recognise them in the distance.
I had a very fine description of the Festival and the music--which consisted of selections from Handel and Beethoven--ready written, but I really feel that any attempt to convey the idea of this splendid spectacle, or my feelings on witnessing it, is altogether vain. In fact, the sensation of excitement with which I looked and listened was too great to permit of any permanent impression, capable of description, remaining in my mind. And I felt on coming out as if years had rolled over my head since the morning; for we measure time past not so much by the pleasurable or painful feelings which we have experienced during its lapse, as by the mere number and variety of sensations that have imprinted themselves on the sensorium....
There was little inducement to remain in Cologne when the Festival was over, so that having secured places in the steamboat for Bonn, we took our last look at the Cathedral by moonlight and returned to our beds. Next morning I was awoke by the most diabolical war-whoop that can be conceived, and on looking out from my window I descried the cause of my alarm to be a cow’s horn, blown by a person who might, from the length and breadth of his blast, have been one of the performers at Jericho. I found afterwards that the horn-blower was an emissary from the steamboat come to inform us that she was ready to depart, and would be under weigh in a few moments. After dressing rapidly, we soon found ourselves seated upon the deck: the air was calm--not a breeze ruffled the broad surface of the Rhine: it lay like a mirror before us, reflecting the tapered minarets and richly ornamented dome of the Cathedral, which glistened under the morning dew, like a vast globe of gold.