Down the Rhine; Or, Young America in Germany by Oliver Optic (best book club books for discussion .txt) 📕

am mistaken in you, and I regret that you compel me to ignore the obligations under which you have placed me."

"I cheerfully absolve you from any obligations which may weigh heavily upon you. But I assure you, I have no ill-will towards you, and I shall continue to treat you with courtesy and kindness. In about a week, our ship's company will return to Brest, and sail for the United States. It is not probable that I shall ever see Lady Feodora or you again."

"Will you pledge yourself never to see her again after this week?" demanded Sir William.

"I will not—certainly not," replied Shuffles. "I do not purpose to interfere in any way with your relations to her. If she desires to see me, and it is possible for me to see her, I shall not deny myself that pleasure."

The baronet suddenly turned upon his heel, and walked rapidly towards the hotel. Shuffles was amazed. He could not conceal from himself the truth that he was deeply interested in Lady Feodora, though no thought of anything beyond friendship occurred to either of them. They might or might not continue in company for another week, and then part, in all human probability, forever in this world. Still, the situation was novel enough to be exciting, and he lay awake, thinking of it, for several hours that night. But in the morning Sir William appeared as usual, and probably, on reflection, had decided not to do any desperate deed.

At seven o'clock the excursionists returned by train to Frankfurt. It was decided then that, as Wiesbaden, one of the celebrated German watering-places, was only a repetition of Baden-Baden and Homburg, the company should proceed direct to Mayence, where they arrived by nine o'clock.

 

CHAPTER XVIII.

CASTLES, VINEYARDS, AND MOUNTAINS.

As the students were crossing the bridge to Mayence, they obtained a full view of one of the great rafts of timber which float down the Rhine, and of which Professor Mapps had spoken to them at Dort, in Holland. However, it was much smaller than those of which they had heard, and they hoped to see another. The students were not disposed to "do" Mayence, being too impatient to witness the glories of the Rhine. But most of them, from a sense of duty rather than from an interest in the place, visited the principal attractions of the city.

"Mayence is the French name of the town," said the professor of geography and history, as the students collected in the railroad station, previous to the tramp. "The German name is Mainz, which is pronounced Mynts—y like long i. If you pronounce it in any other way, a German will not know what you mean. It was an old Roman town. A fortress was established here to keep back the barbarians. It was formerly a larger and more important city than at present, having now a population of only forty thousand.

"This place has done two grand things for civilization and for Europe. It was the cradle of the art of printing, and furnished the man who suppressed the robber knights. As you go down the Rhine, you will see the ruins of many old castles on the hills by the banks of the river. The nobles, who occupied them as strongholds, carried on a system of robbery, levying duties upon all who travelled on its waters or passed through their territory. Arnold von Walpoden suggested the plan which led to a confederation of the cities for the driving out of the knightly highwaymen, and the destruction of their strongholds. They were feudal lords, and the breaking of their power opened the way for the progress of civilization.

"Mayence was the birthplace of Gutemberg, who invented movable types for printing, and reduced the art to practice. You will see the site of the house where he was born, and the building which contained his first printing-office."

After this brief explanation the party walked to the cathedral, a very ancient structure, possessing much historical interest. Opposite the theatre they saw the statue of Gutemberg, and the guide pointed out the place where his house stood, and the old building in which he and Faust took their first proofs from types.

At twelve o'clock the tourists went on board of the steamer Königin von Preussen, and realized that they had actually embarked for the trip down the Rhine. They had seen the river at Basle, Constance, and Schaffhausen, had crossed it at Strasburg, and obtained views of it from different points on their route. The steamer was unworthy of the noble river, and if the palatial boats of the Hudson could be run upon its waters, they would lend a new charm to the scenery. The Rhine steamers are small, compared with the Hudson river boats, and far from being elegant. They have no saloon on deck, though a couple of small apartments, abaft the paddle-boxes, are pretentiously called "pavilions." They are appropriated to first class passengers, and are seldom used except by travellers who wish to be very exclusive. The second class passengers occupy the main cabin and the deck abaft the wheels. Meals are served below, or, for an extra price, upon little tables on deck. The third class travellers have the forward deck, with piles of luggage to lounge upon. The relative fares are as the ratios four, six, and nine. From Mayence to Bingen the time is about two hours, and the fares are eight, twelve, and eighteen silver groschen. The steamers stop at all the principal landings, and passengers are occasionally brought off in small boats from other places.

The company dined in the cabin before the Königin started, so as not to lose a single view. The dinner was an excellent one, and cheap, the ordinary price being seventeen silver groschen, or about forty-one cents. When served to private parties on deck, the price is one thaler, or seventy-two cents.

"Are those steamboats?" asked Paul, pointing to a number of boats with houses on deck, and having immense wheels.

"No," replied Dr. Winstock. "They are mills for grinding grain."

"But what turns the wheels?"

"They are moored as you see them in the river, and the current turns the wheels, which are very large, so as to gain power."

"That's a new idea to me," added Paul.

"I have seen just such in the Alabama River, in our own country," replied the surgeon.

"It is certainly a very good way to obtain the power."

The boat started, and soon made a landing at Biebrich, on the other side of the river, where passengers from Frankfurt, Homburg, and Wiesbaden usually take the steamers. As the Königin proceeded on her way, a feeling of general disappointment pervaded the minds of the party, who had not seen the river before.

"It does not compare with the Hudson," protested Paul.

"Wait, Paul!" said the doctor, with a smile.

"How long shall I wait?"

"Two hours. You must not be hasty in your judgment."

"What is this town on the right?" asked Grace.

"Eltville. Do you see the white building in the midst of the vineyards, some distance down the river?" said the doctor, pointing to the shore.

"I see it."

"That is the château of Johannisberg, belonging to Prince Metternich, formerly a celebrated prime minister of Austria. Those vineyards are the most noted in the world. The famous Johannisberger wine is made from these grapes. It sells here for five or six dollars a bottle, where ordinary kinds can be bought for twenty cents, and even less. The grapes are very precious, and are kept upon the vines till they are nearly rotten. Those that fall off are picked up with a kind of fork, so valuable are they deemed. Of the seventy acres contained in the vineyard, only a small portion produces the best wine, which is not found except in the cellars of kings and princes. This is Rüdesheim, where the boat will make a landing," added Dr. Winstock, as the steamer stopped her wheels. "A famous wine is also made here. It is said that Charlemagne, seeing from his castle windows, near Mayence, how early the snow disappeared from the heights below us, ordered vines from France to be set out here; and from these vines is produced the noted Rüdesheimer wine.

"What place is this?" inquired Paul, at a point where the course of the river seemed to be obstructed by rocks and hills.

"Bingen on the Rhine," said the surgeon. "Here the waters of the river are crowded in a narrow space. Look upon the hills around you, and see how every foot of ground is economized for the vineyards. Where the hill-sides are too steep for cultivation, they are formed into terraces, as you see them."

The steamer stopped a few moments at Bingen, which contains about seventy-five hundred inhabitants.

"On our left, now, are the dominions of the King of Prussia—the Rhenish provinces. On our right, as before, is the Duchy of Nassau. What do you think of the Rhine now?" asked Dr. Winstock.

"It is improving, certainly," laughed Paul. "The scenery is really very grand and very fine. I will give it up now. It is finer than the Hudson. But where are the old castles?"

"There is one of them," answered the doctor, pointing to a ruin which crowned a hill on the right. "That is the Castle of Ehrenfels. There is a legend connected with about every one of them. There is the Mouse Tower."

The doctor pointed to a stone structure rising from the river a short distance from the shore. It was certainly a very romantic building, and in a very romantic situation.

"What is the story about this tower?" asked Paul.

"If you take Southey's works when you return to the ship, you will find in them, 'The Tradition of Bishop Hatto.' He was the Archbishop of Mayence, and during a famine kept his granaries, well filled with food, locked, and, by his own profusion and high living, excited his starving subjects to revolt. The prelate ordered the rebels to be arrested, confined them in a building, and set it on fire. Not content with this outrage, he added insult to injury by mocking the wail of the sufferers, and comparing their cries with the squeaking of mice. In the night which followed the diabolical deed, a swarm of mice penetrated to the apartments of the archbishop's palace, attacked him, and tried to tear the flesh from his bones. Appalled by this poetic justice, the cruel prelate fled, and, taking to the river, reached this insulated tower. Suspending his bed in the upper part of the structure, he struggled to escape from the mice, as merciless as he had himself been. But the mice followed him, and he could not avoid the doom that was in store for him. Vainly he resisted. The rats attacked him, and he suffered a lingering and horrible death. It is but fair to add that history gives the archbishop a different character. Do you happen to know the meaning of the German word mauth?"

"A duty, or a toll," replied Grace.

"The German for mouse is maus, and probably it is in this instance corrupted from mauth; for nothing could have made the tower and its owners more odious than the collection of duties from voyagers on the river. There is a sad story connected with the Brömserberg Castle, which we saw above. Brömser of Rüdesheim went to Palestine with the crusaders, and, while there, distinguished himself by slaying a dragon which made itself very annoying to the Christian army. He was immediately after captured by the Saracen forces, and reduced to slavery. While in this condition, he made a solemn vow, that if he were ever permitted to return to his castle again, he would give his only daughter to the church. Improving an opportunity to kill his guard, he succeeded in reaching his home, where he was met by his daughter, a lovely young woman, who was betrothed to a young knight. Her father told her of the vow he had taken. Tearfully she entreated him to change his