path: root/78472-0.txt

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78472 ***




                        DESCENT OF THE DANUBE,

                                 FROM

                          RATISBON TO VIENNA,

                              DURING THE

                            AUTUMN OF 1827.

                                 WITH

                     ANECDOTES AND RECOLLECTIONS,

                      _HISTORICAL AND LEGENDARY_,

                                OF THE

                TOWNS, CASTLES, MONASTERIES, etc., UPON
                        THE BANKS OF THE RIVER,

      AND THEIR INHABITANTS AND PROPRIETORS, ANCIENT AND MODERN.


                          +By+ J. R. PLANCHE,

  AUTHOR OF “LAYS AND LEGENDS OF THE RHINE,” “OBERON,” AN OPERA, etc.

             Ye glorious Gothic scenes! how much ye strike
               All phantasies, not even excepting mine:
             A grey wall, a green ruin, rusty pike,
               Make my soul pass the equinoctial line,
             Between the present and past worlds, and hover
               Upon their airy confine, half-seas-over.

                                                   +Don Juan+, Canto X.


                                LONDON:
              PRINTED FOR JAMES DUNCAN, PATERNOSTER-ROW.

                             MDCCCXXVIII.




[Illustration:
      _On Stone by L. Haghe._      _W. Day Lithog. 17 Gate St._

                          SCHLOSS BÖSENBEUG.

 The Summer Residence of the Emperor of Austria and the Town of Ips on
                             the Danube.]




                                LONDON:
                      Printed by +William Clowes+,
                            Stamford Street.




                                   TO

                          SAMUEL RUSH MEYRICK,

                  _OF GOODERICH COURT, HEREFORDSHIRE,_

                                ESQUIRE,

                        LL.D., F.S.A., etc. etc.

                               THIS VOLUME

                              IS INSCRIBED

              BY HIS VERY SINCERE AND MUCH OBLIGED FRIEND,

                                                          J. R. PLANCHE.


 _Brompton-Crescent, July 1, 1828._




                               PREFACE.


It appears rather surprising that, while our printshops teem with
views on the Rhine, and the shelves of our booksellers groan with
the weight of Tours in its neighbourhood, no English pen or pencil
should have been hitherto employed in illustration of the magnificent
Danube. Captain Batty, it is true, in his beautiful work entitled
“German Scenery,” has three or four views upon the river, and one or
two modern tourists have slightly mentioned a town or so, which, lying
on the post-road to Vienna, as well as on the banks of the Danube,
they have passed through on their way to the Austrian capital. But,
with the exception of the translation of Baron Riesbeck’s travels in
Germany, published in the fifth volume of Pinkerton’s collection,
which contains a very brief but faithful description of the river from
Passau to Vienna, I am aware of few works in our language from which
the slightest idea of its beauty and interest can be drawn, and of
none absolutely dedicated to its history and illustration[1]. That the
Danube should be so little known to our rambling countrymen is the more
remarkable, as Vienna--voluptuous Vienna! is one of the points to which
it leads, and the ease, pleasure, and velocity with which its stream
may be descended, render, in commonly fair weather, the passage by
water considerably preferable to the journey by land, though performed
in the traveller’s own post-chariot; and as by land he _must_ return,
he thus secures to himself the advantage of entirely new scenery, even
if compelled by time or circumstances to retrace his line of route.

The road from Frankfort to Ratisbon is replete with interest--the
beautiful banks of the meandering Mein; the battle-field of Dettingen;
the fine chateau and gardens of Aschaffenburg; Wurtzburg with its
splendid palace, its rich conservatories and rock-throned citadel;
Nürnberg, the birthplace of Albert Durer, with its fantastic
buildings, and gorgeous cathedral, all tempt the wanderer on to the
heights of Hohen-Schambach, where the plain of the Danube bursts upon
his view. The return from Vienna, by Salzburg and Munich, or through
the Tyrol to the Lake of Constanz, and _so down the Rhine home_, leaves
nothing to be wished for in point of scenery; while six weeks or two
months, provided the traveller be not ensnared by the gaieties of
Vienna, are amply sufficient, in fair weather, for the whole of the
journey.

Having sought in vain, on my departure from England, for a book which
would serve me as a guide and companion down the Danube, I was induced
to take a few notes and sketches during my little voyage, in the hope
that, when thrown, at my leisure, into something like a readable shape,
they might become useful to future travellers, by at least standing
in the gap till some abler hand should supply the desideratum. In
the pursuance of this object, I was greatly assisted by a copy of
Professor Schultes’ Donau-Reise[2], the best foreign guide down the
Danube; but which is yet incomplete, and suppressed in Austria on
account of its political and religious opinions. At the same time,
however, that I acknowledge my obligations to this work, from which
I have gleaned much information on points that could only have been
explained by a native, or one long resident in the country, I must take
the liberty of expressing my objection to its style, which renders
its perusal a task to Germans themselves, and must make it almost a
sealed book to a foreigner. Herr Schultes’ prolixity, and love of
inversion, are enough to drive an English reader crazy. The latter,
indeed, he carries to such an extent, that the waggish description of
“the-in-general-strewed-with-cabbage-stalks-but-on-a-Saturday-night-
lighted-up-with-lamps-market of Covent Garden” must hide its
diminished head. The learned Professor sometimes keeps his inquisitive
victim on the rack for pages, before he deigns to disclose the word
which solves the enigma of his apparently interminable sentence. He
seems to glory in this species of mystification, and, like poor dear
innocent Dogberry, were he “as tedious as a king,” he would “bestow
it all upon your worship.” Still, however, “there is matter in this
madness,” and the Professor has been a diligent digger. The list of
German authors, both ancient and modern, who have written upon the
antiquities, history, and natural productions of the towns and shores
of the Danube, was invaluable to a stranger like myself, as it enabled
me at once to lay my hands upon authorities ‘pour vérifier les dates,’
etc. ‘Die Burgvesten und Ritterschlosser der Oestreichischen Monarchie,
4 T. Brunn, 1820,’ is another work, which has afforded me much curious
legendary material; as have also the ‘Taschenbuch zur Geschichte
verfallener Ritterburgen,’ etc., Wien, 1826, and other similar
publications.

The Danube, whose waves have witnessed the march of Attila, of
Charlemagne, of Gustavus Adolphus, and Napoleon; whose shores have
echoed the blast of the Roman trumpet, the hymn of the Pilgrim of
the Cross, and the “wild halloo” of the sons of Islam, whose name
is equally dear to history and fable; to him who, in fancy, sees
the lion-hearted Richard of England languishing for his native
land, or follows the beautiful widow of Siegfried to the “rich King
Etzel’s court,”--that such a theme was worthy of being treated by
the first writers in our language, was an awful consideration for
one of the humblest; that it had not been touched upon by any was
the only encouragement. “You have often scribbled successfully for
the stage,” said my friend ----, “why should you fear to write for
the passage-boat?” The joke was a vile one, but the argument was
conclusive. Gentle reader, this is my first appearance in the character
of a tourist. I have taken the part at a short notice, no one else
having appeared to sustain it, and respectfully solicit the usual
indulgence.


                       FOOTNOTES (PREFACE)

[1] While this volume was passing through the press, “A Summer’s Ramble
amongst the Musicians in Germany” appeared, in which pleasant book, a
dozen pages are allotted to an equally brief and spirited notice of
the banks of the Danube from Passau to Vienna. Upwards of one hundred
years ago, Lady M. W. Montague descended the Danube from Ratisbon to
Vienna, a voyage of which she dismisses her account, in a dozen lines.
“We travelled by water from Ratisbon,” says the fair writer, “a journey
perfectly agreeable down the Danube, in one of those little vessels
that they very properly call wooden houses, having in them all the
_conveniences of a palace, stoves in the chambers, kitchens_, etc.” (I
do not know what exertions might have been made for the accommodation
of a British Ambassador, his Lady and suite, but the Danube, I suspect,
has not seen such another boat during the last century.) “They are
rowed by twelve men each, and move with such incredible swiftness, that
in the same day you have the pleasure of a vast variety of prospects;
and within the space of a few hours, you have the pleasure of seeing a
populous city, adorned with magnificent palaces, and the most romantic
solitudes which appear distant from the commerce of mankind, the banks
of the Danube being charmingly diversified with woods, rocks, mountains
covered with vines, fields of corn, large cities, and ruins of ancient
castles.”--_Letter to the Countess of Mar_, dated Vienna, September
18th, o. s. 1716.

[2] Ein handbuch für Reisende auf der Donau. Von J. A. Schultes, M. Dr.
etc. Wien, 1819. Stuttgart, 1827.




                               CONTENTS.


                              CHAPTER I.

                                                                   Page

  First View of the Danube and Ratisbon--Description of Boats on the
  Danube--The City of Ratisbon--The Cathedral--The Heide Platz--Church
  of the Scotch Benedictines--The Bridges--The Rath-haus--The Abbey of
  St. Emmeram--Story of Frederick von Ewesheim--Church of the Dominicans
  --The Neue-Pfarre-Kirche--Ober and Nieder Münster--Karmeliten Kloster
  --The Horses’ Church--The Promenades--Unterhaltungs Haus--Maximilian
  Joseph Gasse--David and Goliath--Embarkation--Wörth--Donaustauf--The
  Dunkel-boden--Sossau
                                                                     1


                              CHAPTER II.

  Straubing--The Bridge--The Hauptstrasse--The Stadtthurm--The
  Pfarr, or Collegiat Kirche--Story of Agnes Bernauer--The
  Ramparts--The Atzelburg--Ober Altaich--Bogenberg--Kloster
  Metten--The Natternberg--Deggendorf--The Gnade Zeit--Confluence
  of the Isar and the Danube--Rafts from Munich to Vienna--Nieder
  Altaich--Hengersberg--Osterhofen--Hoch-winzer--Hofkirchen--Kinzing--
  Hildegartsberg--Vilshofen--Collegiat Stift--The Sandbach--New Road
  to Passau--Maximilian Joseph I., late King of Bavaria--Louis I., the
  present Monarch--Statue of a Lion--Approach to Passau
                                                                    32


                             CHAPTER III.

Passau--The Inn-stadt--The Fair--The Cathedral--The
Bridge--Fortress of Oberhaus--Celebrated View--Mariahilf--The
Ilz-stadt--The Sword Cutlery--Present Manufactures and Commerce
of Passau--Talismans--Goitres--Excursions into the Environs of
Passau--Confluence of the Inn and the Danube--Krempenstein--Hafner
Zell--Its Manufactories--Fichtenstein--The Jochenstein--The Ruin of
Ried
                                                                    77


                              CHAPTER IV.

  Engelhard’s-zell--Rana-riedl--Marsbach--Wesen
  Urfar--Waldkirche--Hayenbach--The Schlägen--The Rhine and the
  Danube contrasted--Ober Michl--Neuhaus--Aschach--The paper-money of
  Austria--Castle of Schaumberg--Environs of Aschach--Ober Walsee--Story
  of Hans von Eschelberg--Sketch of the Insurrections in the Seventeenth
  Century
                                                                    96


                              CHAPTER V.

  Efferding--Ottensheim--Kloster-Willering--Linz--The Platz--The
  Landstrasse--The Schlossberg--The Landhaus--The Theatre--The
  Bridge--The Pöstlingberg--View on leaving Linz--Steyereck--The
  River Traun--Ebelsberg--Luftenberg--Monastery of St.
  Florian--Tillysburg--Spielberg--Mauthausen--Ens--Origin and History of
  the City--Antiquities discovered in its neighbourhood
                                                                   137


                              CHAPTER VI.

  Nieder-Walsee--Castles of Clam and Kreuzen--Ardagger--Grein--The
  Strudel and the Wirbel--Mistakes of various Authors concerning
  them--St. Nikola--Sarblingstein--Freystein--Hirschau--The
  Isper--Bösenbeug--Story of Bishop Bruno and the Lady
  Richlita--Ips--Gottsdorf
                                                                   180


                             CHAPTER VII.

  Marbach--Maria-Taferl--Pechlarn--Wiedeneck--Mölk--Lubereck--The Valley
  of the Wachau--Schönbühel--Aggstein--The Teufel’s Mauer--Spitz, and
  the Ruin of Hinterhaus--Church and Village of St. Michel--Castle of
  Dürrenstein--Narrow escape of Marshal Mortier during the Campaign of
  1805--Mautern--Stein--Krems--Kloster Göttweih--Trasen-Mauer--Arrival
  at Tuln
                                                                   217


                             CHAPTER VIII.

  Tuln--Langenlebern--Greifenstein--Story of Etelina--Korneuberg--The
  Bisamberg--Kloster Neuburg--Leopoldsberg, and the Khalenberg--A
  glimpse of the capital--Nussdorf--Arrival at Vienna--Bird’s-eye View
  and Description of the Environs from the Temple of Glory in the Brühl
                                                                   267




[Illustration: A MAP +_OF THE_+ DANUBE +_FROM_+ RATISBON +_TO_+
VIENNA.]




[Illustration: Common passage-boat from Ratisbon to Vienna.]




                              CHAPTER I.

  First View of the Danube and Ratisbon--Description of Boats on the
  Danube--The City of Ratisbon--The Cathedral--The Heide Platz--Church
  of the Scotch Benedictines--The Bridges--The Rath-haus--The Abbey of
  St. Emmeram--Story of Frederick von Ewesheim--Church of the Dominicans
  --The Neue-Pfarre-Kirche--Ober and Nieder Münster--Karmeliten Kloster
  --The Horses’ Church--The Promenades--Unterhaltungs Haus--Maximilian
  Joseph Gasse--David and Goliath--Embarkation--Wörth--Donaustauf--The
  Dunkel-boden--Sossau.


I believe it is Doctor Clarke who advises travellers never to see a
mountain without going to the top of it. I should rather say, never see
a river without following the course of it. One very extensive prospect
too nearly resembles another, particularly in the same country, to
give additional gratification, and I have not unfrequently, like
the celebrated King of France, “marched up a hill, and then marched
down again,” to about as little purpose. But never did I follow the
course of a stream, however insignificant, without being surprised and
delighted. Without water, the loveliest prospect is incomplete. Lakes
and rivers are the eyes of the earth; the want of them cannot be atoned
for by the beauty of its other features, however exquisite.

The formidable account of some friends who had made the voyage, backed,
as it seemed to be, by a twaddling notice in a German Guide-Book, had
nearly dissuaded me from descending the Danube to Vienna. But the first
glimpse of its magnificent flood, rolling through the broad and fertile
plain, in the centre of which the ancient city of Ratisbon rears its
sombre cathedral, and winding away into the horizon amongst the shadowy
mountains of the Böhmer-wald, renewed my original determination; and my
first care, on finding myself safely deposited in the excellent hotel,
Das Goldene Kreutz, on the Heide Platz, was to make the necessary
inquiries how, when, and where I should embark on the “thundering
river[3].”

The regular passage-boat from Ratisbon to Vienna was to start on the
following morning at eight o’clock, and for the very moderate sum of
five florins, not quite ten shillings English, would have landed me
in the Austrian capital in about five or six days, according to the
weather. But as neither I nor my companion was willing, for a slight
pecuniary consideration, to risk a serious diminution of the pleasures
of the voyage by a crowded deck, a filthy cabin, bad company, and
miserable fare, I applied to a Schiffmeister of Stadt-am-hof, the
little fauxbourg of Ratisbon, on the left bank of the Danube, who
agreed to furnish us with a boat, steersman, and crew for the sum of
twenty ducats, about ten pounds sterling, and to assure our arrival at
Vienna in four days, or four and a half at farthest.

The boats on the Danube, though of various names and sizes, are nearly
all of one shape. That which I hired is called, in the peculiar patois
of the Bavarian boatmen, a Weitz-zille, and is the sort of conveyance
particularly appropriated to private travelling. It is about forty
feet long, and composed of rough deal planks, nailed rudely together,
the ribs being of natural branches, and caulked with moss. In the
centre is a kind of awning, or rather hut, of the same unpretending
materials. It is flat-bottomed, as are all the craft upon this
river, and, in short, is little more than a large rude punt. Sails
are unknown upon the Danube; it is therefore rowed by two men, and
steered by a third, with long clumsy-looking paddles, tied to upright
posts, upon which every now and then water is flung to make them work
easy, and avoid ignition. The Coche d’eau, or common passage-boat,
is rather larger, and is called a Gamsel, or a Kellhaimer. Those
used for the conveyance of merchandise, are known by the names of
Hochnauen, Klobzillen, (facetiously termed vessels of the line by
Professor Schultes,) Nebenbeys, Schwernmern, etc., all of the same
fashion, keelless, sailless, their plain deal sides daubed with broad
perpendicular stripes of black paint, their only ornament. Some of the
larger are nearly one hundred and fifty feet long; and, in ascending
the river, are towed, four or five together, by from thirty to forty
horses. The drivers are called Jodelen, and a more singular set of
beings can scarcely be imagined. In appearance they are something
between the English dustman and drayman, but the lowest of either of
those worthies might pass for a scholar and a gentleman by the side of
a real Jodel. From the moment the Danube becomes navigable, till it is
again chained up in ice, these fellows never enter the humblest hovel,
or mix with men of other callings, but even sleep upon the river’s bank
beside their horses. A miserable superstition exists amongst them. They
believe that some of their number must every year be sacrificed to the
Spirit of the Waters, and, consequently, when an accident occurs, they
all scramble for the drowning man’s hat, but never think of stretching
out a finger to save him, whom they look upon as a doomed and demanded
victim. Professor Schultes declares that he once saw five jodelen,
with their horses, precipitated into the river, when their companions
hastily cut the ropes, to prevent the rest of the team from following,
and drove on, leaving the poor wretches to their fate.

Before I step into my little bark, however, the old city of Ratisbon,
or, more properly Regensburg, claims a few moments’ attention. The
Regina Castra of the Romans has had twenty different names[4], and,
according to Günther, owes that of Ratisbona, or Ratispona, to its
convenience as a landing place.

    “Inde Ratisbonæ vetus ex hoc nomen habenti
    Quod _bona_ sit _ratibus_, vel quod consuevit in illa
    _Ponere_ nauta _rates_.”

Near it, the little river Regen falls into the Danube, from whence
its German appellation of Regensburg. One of the chief towns on the
Illyrian frontier, here the Roman merchant traded for furs, and the
eagle of the “Legio tertia Italica” long glittered in the sight of the
humbled barbarians. From Regensburg the “furious Frank” rushed, beneath
the banners of Charlemagne, to his Pannonian victories. Under Arnulph
the Bastard, it became a flourishing commercial and manufacturing town.
In 1106, the unfortunate Emperor Henry IV. here resigned his crown and
sceptre to his unnatural son. In 1193, Richard Cœur de Lion was sent
hither a prisoner to the Emperor Henry VI., who re-delivered him to
his sworn foe and captor, Leopold Duke of Austria. Here, on the 12th
of October, 1576, expired the Emperor Maximilian II., in whose favour
Germany revived the surname of Titus, or the Delight of Mankind.
No stronger proof of his great and amiable qualities can be given,
than the concurring testimony of the historians of Germany, Hungary,
Bohemia, and Austria, both Catholics and Protestants, who vie in his
praises, and in representing him as a model of impartiality, wisdom,
and benignity[5]. “It excites a melancholy regret,” says Wraxall, “to
reflect that the reign of so excellent a sovereign as Maximilian was
limited to the transitory period of twelve years, while Philip II., the
scourge of his own subjects and of Europe, occupied the throne during
more than forty. The Romans might, with equal reason, have lamented
that the tyranny of Tiberius lasted above twenty years, when the benign
administration of Titus scarcely exceeded as many months[6].” In 1633,
Ratisbon was taken by Bernhard, Duke of Saxe-Weimar, and retaken by the
allied Bavarians and Austrians, commanded by Ferdinand King of Hungary,
in the following year. In 1641, the Swedes, under the famous General
Banner, cannonaded it; and on the 21st of April, 1809, it was taken by
the French, after a desperate conflict, being the fourteenth time, in
the course of nine hundred years, that this unfortunate city has been
visited by the united horrors of war.

Its grand but gloomy cathedral contains some curious sculpture, and
some richly painted windows, the blues in which are remarkable for
their brilliancy. The date, 1482, is upon the upper part of an angular
porch; but the façade of the building, the singular well, the richly
ornamented canopies on columns, in various parts of the interior,
and the equestrian statues of Saint Martin and another, are all of
an earlier period.[7] In the chancel, near the altar, is deposited
the heart of the Emperor Maximilian I.; and in a chapel on the south
side of the chancel, within a glass case, is the recumbent effigy, in
wax, of Saint John of Nepomuck, the celebrated confessor of the wife
of Wenceslaus, king of Bohemia, who refusing to divulge the secrets
of his royal penitent was thrown into prison, tortured, and, finally,
flung over the bridge at Prague and drowned, by the king’s order. His
statue, in the habit of the Jesuits, is to be seen on nearly every
bridge in the south of Germany; he, who perished by water, being
curiously enough selected from the list of saints as the protector
of all who travel on that element. On an altar-tomb, in the nave, is
a splendid bronze effigy of a Bishop of Ratisbon and Duke of Bavaria
kneeling to a crucifix. On the Heide Platz, or Place of the Pagan, a
terrible combat is said to have been fought, between a gigantic Hun
named Craco, who had flung forty knights out of their saddles, and Hans
Dollinger, a valiant burgher of the town, during the reign, and in the
presence of Henry the Fowler. The emperor crossed the panting champion
twice upon the mouth, and to the virtue of these holy signs the defeat
of the Pagan is principally attributed[8]. Craco’s sword, measuring
nearly eight feet, and his ponderous helmet, hung for some time in
the choir of Nieder Münster. The sword is now at Vienna, whither it
was taken in 1542. On the side of a house, in the Kohlen-markt, is a
representation of this combat; and the square itself, I have little
doubt, formed originally part of the Heide Platz, from which it is
at present separated by a row of comparatively modern erections. The
church of the Scotch Benedictines, near the Jacobs-Thor, has a fine
portal, of apparently the twelfth century. There is a tragical story
told of its last abbot, Gallus, who was compelled to see a beloved
brother torn to pieces without daring to acknowledge him; but I was
not able to learn the particulars, though, Schultes says, they are
of general notoriety. The celebrated bridge across the Danube is a
clumsy-looking affair, and sadly disappoints the expectant traveller:
the honour of its erection is hotly disputed between Henry the Proud
and----the Devil[9]! Their imperial and satanic majesties have each
their zealous partisans, but the proofs are in favour of the earthly
potentate, who, in conjunction with the town of Ratisbon, commenced the
work A.D. 1135. It was finished in 1146. It is of free-stone, supported
by piles of oak driven to a considerable depth in the bed of the river,
consists of fifteen arches, and is one thousand and ninety-one feet
in length. Of the three principal bridges of Germany, that of Dresden
is said to be the most elegant; that of Prague, the longest; and that
of Ratisbon, the strongest. Besides this stone bridge there are two
wooden bridges, one very small, connecting the stone bridge with a long
island in the middle of the river, and another of larger dimensions,
which leads from the island to the city near the Nieder Münster. In
the Kohlenmarkt stands the Rathhaus, or Hotel de Ville, where from
1662 to 1806 the diet was held. Justice and Fortune have inherited
the building. The Tribunal of Police is established in one part of
it, and the Lottery is drawn in the other. Its curious old gate and
bay-window are in excellent preservation. Their arches and crocketted
pinnacles are of the thirteenth century, and greatly resemble those of
the monument of our Edward I. at Westminster. The two figures above
the gate, one bearing a martel de fer, and the other in the act of
flinging a stone, are of the close of the fifteenth century: beneath
each is a shield with the arms of the city. The Abbey of Saint Emmeram
is now the residence of the Prince of Thurm and Taxis: his gardens
are kindly thrown open to the public from six in the morning to six
in the evening. Saint Emmeram was a Frenchman, a native of Poictiers,
who, having visited the court of Theodo, was suspected of an illicit
amour with the princess his daughter, and murdered by her brother at
Helfendorf, A.D. 652. In the vaults of this building lie Childeric,
the deposed king of France, the Emperor Arnulph, and his son Ludwig
IV., the celebrated historian John Aventine, Saint Wolfgang, and Saint
Dionysius, the Areopagite. The body of the latter saint is said to have
been purloined from the Abbey of Saint Denis, in France, in the year
893; and Pope Leo XI., in a particular bull, absolutely threatened
with excommunication all who dared doubt the genuineness of the holy
corpse[10]: “notwithstanding which,” says Keysler, “the monks of Saint
Denys, near Paris, insist that the body of that saint is actually in
their possession; and his head is shown in the third shrine of their
treasury. On the other hand, the monks of Saint Emmeram maintain, that
the only part wanting in their relique, is the middle finger of the
right hand. However, an entire hand of this saint is shown at a chapel
in Munich. His head is also devoutly worshipped in the cathedral of
Bamberg; and at Prague another head of that saint is kept in the Church
of Saint Vitus in the Castle[11].” This abbey formerly possessed an
altar of solid gold, a fine manuscript of the Gospels, written in gold,
the cover ornamented with precious stones, and presented by Charles
the Bald to the monks of Saint Denis; another copy, said to have been
written in 751 by a bishop, in the ninetieth year of his age, and
many other valuable curiosities. The MSS. are, I believe, still in
existence[12]. Gemeiner, in his chronicle, has a story connected with
the edifice, sufficiently illustrative of the period of its action to
merit insertion; besides which I doat upon old stories, and fairly warn
that “gentle reader,” who may not have the same predilection, to lay
down the book in time, as it is only when, like the Knife-grinder, “I
have none to tell,” that he has the slightest chance of escape from
them.

A certain worthy Bishop of Regensburg, not contented with fleecing
his flock, according to the approved and legitimate method, made it a
point of conscience to waylay and plunder his beloved brethren whenever
they ventured near the Castle of Donaustauf, in which he resided upon
the banks of the Danube, a little below the town. In the month of
November 1250, says the chronicle, tidings came to Donaustauf, that,
on the following morning, the daughter of Duke Albert of Saxony would
pass that way, with a gorgeous and gallant escort. The bait was too
tempting for the prelate. He sallied out upon the glittering cortege,
and seizing the princess and forty of her noblest attendants, led them
captives to Donaustauf. The astonished remainder fled for redress, some
to King Conrad, and others to Duke Otho, at Landshut, who immediately
took arms, and carrying fire and sword into the episcopal territories,
soon compelled the holy highwayman to make restitution and sue for
mercy. Conrad, satisfied with his submission, forgave him; in return
for which the Bishop bribed a vassal, named Conrad Hohenfels, to
murder his royal namesake; and, accordingly, in the night of the 28th
of December, the traitor entered the Abbey of Saint Emmerams, where
the king had taken up his abode, and stealing into the royal chamber
stabbed the sleeper to the heart; then running to the gates of the
city, threw them open to the bishop and his retainers, exclaiming that
the king was dead. The traitors were, however, disappointed. Frederich
von Ewesheim, a devoted servant of the king, suspecting some evil, had
persuaded the monarch to exchange clothes and chambers with him, and
the assassin’s dagger had pierced the heart, not of Conrad, but of
his true and gallant officer. The bishop escaped the royal vengeance
by flight; but the abbot of Saint Emmeram’s, who had joined the
conspirators, was flung into chains; and the abbey, the houses of the
chapter, and all the ecclesiastical residences, were plundered by the
king’s soldiery. The pope, as might be expected, sided with the bishop
and excommunicated Conrad and Otho; but the murderer Hohenfels, after
having for some time eluded justice, was killed by a thunderbolt!

In the church of the Dominicans is a chapel where Albertus Magnus,
Bishop of Ratisbon, the successor of his unworthy namesake, is said
to have given his lectures. This great philosopher and excellent
prelate is reported by the ancient chroniclers to have possessed
the accommodating but rather extraordinary faculty attributed to the
Irishman’s bird, viz. that of being in two places at once. It is
asserted that, at the very moment he was holding forth to his attentive
pupils from the chair still exhibited in the chapel, he was to be seen
busily employed in his study at Donaustauf, about twelve miles off. For
despatch of business this must have been an invaluable accomplishment,
and accounts most satisfactorily for the magnitude and research of his
literary and scientific labours. The Neue-Pfarre-Kirche was formerly
famous for a shrine of the Virgin called the Schöne Maria, to which
from ten to twelve thousand pilgrims frequently repaired at a time from
different parts of Bavaria. The Ober Münster and the Nieder Münster
were both convents, the abbesses of which alone were obliged to take
the vow of chastity. Otto II. and his Empress Adelheid are buried in
the latter, which was founded in the tenth century by Judith, daughter
of Arnold, Duke of Bavaria, and wife of Duke Henry I. The Ober Münster
was founded by Hemma, Queen of Louis the German, who is buried here.
The Karmeliten Kloster, founded by the Emperor Ferdinand in 1641, is
now the custom-house and the town-jail. In Ratisbon, formerly, even
the horses went to church! On Saint Leonard’s Day the peasantry of the
neighbourhood brought their whole stud gaily caparisoned, and indulged
each animal with a peep into the Maltheser-Kirche, a pious precaution,
which was supposed to preserve them the year round from the staggers,
and indeed every other disorder that horse-flesh is heir to.

I had nearly forgotten the promenades. They are pretty, and run all
round the town. The remains of an old cross are pointed out in them, as
having once been the centre of the city. In another part is a temple
to the memory of Keppler, the astronomer, who died here in 1630, and
of whom, says Prof. Schultes, it may be said as of our English poet
Butler, “He asked for bread, and they gave him a stone.” A monument
has also been erected to a M. Goertz, “parcequ’il étoit assez riche,”
said our domestique de place, an excellent reason, and one which
has justified many a more extraordinary proceeding. Then there are
the Unterhaltungshaus, (a handsome building, which combines the
theatre, the assembly-rooms, and heaven knows what besides)--the new
Maximilian-Joseph-Gasse, which has risen upon the ruins of 1809, and
the nearly effaced figures of Goliath and David upon the wall of a
house, the work apparently of the sixteenth century.

And now farewell, old Regensburg! The Roman, the Vandal, the Frank and
the Hun, the Bohemian, the Austrian, and the Swede, the ancient and
the modern Gaul, have, by turns, besieged, stormed, plundered, and
burnt thee. Thy air of gravity becomes a city that hath suffered and
survived so many disasters; and the antique gold and silver coifs that
glitter on the braided locks of thy fair daughters, harmonize well
with the Gothic glories of thy cathedral and the romantic interest
of thy Turnier-Platz. I confess it grieves me to notice the gradual
disappearance throughout the Continent of those distinctions of dress
which have hitherto seemed, as strongly as language and countenance, to
mark out the natural boundaries of nations and provinces: but I console
myself with the hope, that Europe may, with its old habits, fling off
its old prejudices, and that its millions will finally become as much
like one great family in affection, as they promise to look, shortly,
from the uniformity of their costume.

       *       *       *       *       *

On Monday, September 9, about eight in the morning, having completed
our simple preparations, and safely stowed away under the benches
of our little cabin a hamper containing some eatables and a few
bottles of excellent Rhenish and Austrian wines, we stept into our
weitz-zille, which awaited us just above the stone bridge, and having
shot through an arch of it where there is a fall something like that
at old London at half-flood, and struggled a few moments with a strong
eddy, occasioned by an island and some corn-mills, we passed under
the wooden bridge, and commenced our voyage, a strong wind blowing
unfortunately right in our teeth. The sky was however cloudless, and
the day, as it advanced, proving exceedingly warm, the wind was only
unwelcome as it threatened to retard, in some measure, our progress,
and prevent our making the proposed landing and resting-places in due
time. The average depth of the Danube between Donauworth and Passau,
according to H. von Riedl, is ten feet; near Regensburg it is about
eleven feet deep, and something broader than the Thames at Putney.
The right bank of the river, nearly all the way to Straubing, is low,
sedgy, and Dutch like. St. Niklas, Einhausen, Irl, Ober, and Unter
Bärbing or Barbling, are the names of the little old villages that are
scattered along it; but, on the left bank, the eye is soon attracted
by the bold mountains which, abruptly rising behind the villages of
Regenhausen, Weichs, Schwabelweiss, and Dergenheim, or Tegenheim,
follow the windings of the flood in an almost unbroken chain to within
a few miles of Vienna. The ruins of the castle of Donaustauf, cresting
a round, bluff rock, having at its foot the little market-town of
the same name, are the first interesting object that presents itself
on approaching them. The great strength and commanding situation of
this fortress, anciently called Toumstouphen, rendered it an object
of considerable importance during the middle ages; and many are the
tales of the “Battles, sieges, fortunes, _it hath_ past.” Henry the
Proud having taken it from the cathedral and chapter of Regensburg
in 1132, the citizens invested it in the following year so closely,
that the garrison, driven to extremities by hunger, set fire to the
building, and sallying forth, cut their way through the besiegers.
In 1146 it was again taken; and in 1159 again besieged. In 1250 it
was the scene of that outrage which has already been related in the
story of Frederich von Ewesheim. After the death of Albertus Magnus,
who, in 1260, succeeded his notorious namesake, and here pursued his
studies, Donaustauf was again snatched from its holy masters, and once
more restored to them, through the assistance of Bavaria, in 1343. In
1355 it was pledged to the counsellor Ruger Reich for eleven thousand
eight hundred and thirty-five florins, and sold afterwards to Charles
IV. of Bohemia for five thousand. In vain did the holy fathers protest
against the sale, and denounce spiritual as well as temporal vengeance
against the purchaser. Charles was too shrewd and too powerful to fear
either; and so long as he lived, Donaustauf remained the barrier of
Bohemia. Under his feeble successors, however, the chapter recovered
its fortress, and in 1486 it was again pledged to Bavaria. Bernhard,
Duke of Saxe-Weimar, took it, and reduced it to its present condition
in 1634. The Prince of Thurm and Taxis, who bought the lordship
of Worth, in which it is situated, keeps, if I may be allowed the
expression, the ruin in repair, and bestows some care on the gardens,
which clothe the eastern side of its mountain seat. From the ramparts,
the view extends eastwards over Wörth to Straubing and Bogen; and
westward, over Ratisbon, to the mountains of Abach. On either side, the
eye traces the bright Danube, now flowing majestically right onwards,
now boldly sweeping round some rocky point, or gracefully winding
amidst large tracts of meadow land--here almost doubling itself by a
sudden and unexpected curve, and, lost for a short time amongst groves
and hamlets, glittering again like a broad lake, where it resumes its
eastern course far in the blue distance. Directly beneath lie the
little market-town of Donaustauf; the church of Saint Salvator, which
was built, according to Schultes, in expiation of the crime of some
soldiers who dishonoured the Host; the wooden bridge, said to be one of
the longest on the river, and which is partially destroyed every year
in order to give passage to the ice; and below it, on the left bank,
numberless gardens and vineyards, spotted with the white villas of the
wealthy citizens of Regensburg, who, escaping from commercial cares,
on a fine summer Sunday evening, look back through the smoke of their
pipes upon the dusky towers of their cathedral with, no doubt, similar
feelings of satisfaction to those with which the London tradesman
observes from his retreat at Highgate, or Hornsey, the distant dome
of Saint Paul’s rising above the smother of our huge metropolis.
Leaving Donaustauf, we passed the small village of Sulzbach, Demling,
Bach, (celebrated for the mines in its neighbourhood,) Frenkhofen,
Krukenberg, Oberach, Kirchkirfen or Kirfen-holz, and Wisent, on the
little stream of that name, on the left bank; and those of Sarching,
Friesheim, Ilkhofen, Auburg, Eltheim, Saissling, and Seppenhausen,
on the right, some of them consisting of scarcely half a dozen
houses, their humble, white-washed churches roofed with shingles, and
the little Kremlin-looking cupolas of their steeples painted a deep
red. We now rapidly approached Wörth, the chateau of the Prince of
Thurm and Taxis, which had been visible from the time of our passing
Kirfenholz, but, from the extraordinary sinuosities of the river,
appeared, at one moment, to have been left entirely behind us. The
exterior is anything but prepossessing, recalling to the mind of a
cockney, like myself, the dead walls and extinguisher-capped towers
of the Penitentiary at Milbank. The dark firs that rise beside it,
and the rich meadows that gently slope from its terrace wall to the
water’s edge, are, it must be confessed, infinitely more romantic and
ornamental than the rows of cabbages and stunted willows that form the
foreground to its inglorious likeness,--still the idea of a prison
would, I think, be with any stranger the predominant one. Wörth is,
however, a palace, and, no doubt, handsome enough when you are in it.
It has been, like most of the castles and palaces in this part of the
world, bought and sold, pledged and redeemed for all sorts of sums
by all sorts of people. Those who wish to know the exact number of
florins it was valued at during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries,
will find them scrupulously set down by Prof. Schultes; but, as no
matters of historical or romantic interest are connected with its
various transfers, I shall content myself by merely stating, that
it was anciently the property of the bishops of Ratisbon, and came
to Bavaria in 1809, shortly after which period it was bought by its
present possessor. Nearly opposite Wörth, upon the right bank, is the
small town of Pfätter, or Pfada, as it is called in the dialect of
the country, the first post-station from Ratisbon. A little streamlet
of the same name falls into the Danube beside it. A dozen small
villages, remarkable only for appellations that would cost an untutored
Englishman as many teeth to speak them--Gmünden, Tiefer-thal, Hochdorf,
Stadeldorf, Niederachdorf, Sinzendorf, Hünthofen, Kirchenroth, Ober
and Unter Motzing, Kessnach, Hartzeitdorn, etc., are scattered along
the banks, both now exceedingly flat and uninteresting, the mountains
on the left having retreated from the river, which here winds and
doubles like a hunted hare. My companion and I therefore landed, and
leaving the boat to thread the mazes of this watery labyrinth, strode
forward at a good round pace across the fields towards Straubing,
the tin-capped steeples of which were flashing back the rays of the
setting sun. The great plain extending from the gates of Ratisbon,
as far as Pleinting, is supposed to have been once a large morass,
which, on being drained, has left a rich black soil several feet deep
(the celebrated Dunkelboden.) The peasantry of this favoured district
are exceedingly proud, and fond of all kinds of finery. The finest
Swiss and Dutch linen, silk and satin kerchiefs of the gayest hues,
Brabant lace, and gold and silver stuffs of all descriptions, are in
constant requisition. The men wear gold rings, and generally two gold
watches. The black velvet or embroidered silk boddices of the women
are laced with massive silver chains, from which hang a profusion of
gold and silver trinkets, hearts, crosses, coins, medals, etc. The
custom of tying a black silk handkerchief round the neck, with the bow
behind, and the ends hanging down the back, is, I think, peculiar to
Bavaria. A wedding here is a scene of great extravagance and uproar;
many tables, accommodating at least a dozen persons each, are set
out with all manner of good things, and the feasting continues for
several days, all day long. Ignorant, however, as they are wealthy and
luxurious, few even of the most respectable amongst them can either
read or write, and are therefore, says Schultes, entitled in every
respect to the appellation by which they are generally distinguished,
i. e. “Bauern vom Dunkelboden”--“Peasants of the dark earth.” Sossau,
on the left bank, shortly after you enter the Landgericht of Straubing,
is celebrated for a picture of the Virgin, which, in 1534, the angels
brought here in a boat, from a village where the doctrines of Luther
had taken root, to the great indignation of the holy portrait. Those
who are sufficiently sceptical to doubt the veracity of this story, may
consult the account of the monks of Kloster Windberg[13], (to which
Sossau belonged,)printed “cum licentia superiorum,” and illustrated by
a fresco-painting on the walls of their house at Straubing. The whole
angelic crew are there to be seen equipped in sailors’ dresses, tugging
away with “a long pull, a strong pull, and a pull all together,” (the
last pull, by the way, must have been an extra miracle on the Danube,
the advantage of such unanimity never entering the heads of the honest
boatmen), and having on board not only the offended picture, but the
outraged church itself!--I have heard of a worthy enactor of old
Capulet, who, by a curious transposition of his prepositions, commanded
the astonished Juliet to prepare

              To go _to_ Paris _with_ St. Peter’s church.

Now, however extraordinary this paternal injunction might appear
to a modern heretical London audience, it is obvious, upon due
consideration, that the speech, being placed in the mouth of a Roman
Catholic of the sixteenth century, was not so much out of character as
might be imagined at the moment. The chapel of Loretto and the church
of Sossau had set a noble example of locomotion, and Saint Peter’s of
Verona could have no rational reason for refusing to follow it upon a
proper occasion.

Ainhausen, the property of Count Liebelfing, on the high road to
Rinkheim and Kagers, an old village from which the Lords of Kagers
formerly took their title, are the last villages on the right bank of
the river before you arrive at Straubing, the first town of consequence
on the Danube after leaving Ratisbon.


                        FOOTNOTES (CHAPTER I.)

[3] Etymologists have squabbled as much over the name of the Danube, as
geographers over its source, which some contend to be near the village
of St. George, and others in the court-yard of the palace of the Prince
of Fürstenberg, at Donaueschingen. This mighty flood, the grandest in
Europe, and the third in consequence in the Old World, was known to the
Romans by the double name of the Danube, and the Ister. “Ortus hic in
Germaniæ jugis montes abnobae ex adverso Raurici Galliæ oppidi multis
ultra alpes millibus, ac per innumeras lapsus gentes Danubii nomine,
immenso aquarum auctu et unde primum Illyricum alluit Ister appellatus,
sexaginta amnibus receptis, medio ferme numero eorum navigabili, in
Pontum vastis sex fluminibus evolvitur.”--‘Plin. Nat. Hist.’ iv. 24.
The ancient Germans named it Döne and Tona; the Sclavonians, Donava.
The Hungarians call it Tanara, or Donara, and the Turks, Duna. Its
modern German appellation is Donau. Some of the earlier writers would
derive this name from Deus Abnobius, or Diana Abonbia, or Abnopa,
to whom a temple was dedicated near the source of the river. Others
deduce it from Thon, clay, and contend it should be written Thonau.
Others again would find its origin in the words Ton, sound, or Donner,
thunder; and Reichard, indeed, gives the latter as the received
derivation. Breuninger, however, proposes Tanne, a fir, and speciously
enough, the river rising in the Schwarz-wald, of which fir is the
distinctive character, and its banks being clothed with forests of the
same tree, along nearly the whole of its course; while Nikolai would
have us seek it in the Keltic words Do, Na, which signify two rivers,
and may either apply to its double name, “Binominem Istrum,” or to the
two sources which dispute the glory of its birth.

[4] Vide ‘Gemeiner’s Reichs-stadt Regenburgische Chronik.’ 4to,
Regensburg, 1805.

[5] Coxe’s ‘Hist. of the House of Austria,’ 8vo.
London, 1820, Vol. ii. p. 335.

[6] “History of France,” 8vo. Vol. ii. p. 146.

[7] From a wood-cut in the Nürnberg Chronicle of 1493, it appears,
however, that the towers were even at that time unfinished; one being
represented a story shorter than the other, and with a crane upon it
raising a stone. The author, Hartmann Schedel, in the text of the book,
describes the edifice as “yet incomplete.”

[8] Vide ‘Ausführliche relation desjenigen wunderthätigen Kampfes,
welcher anno 930, den 23 Januar, zu Regensburg zwischen Hannss
Dollinger einem Burger daselbst und einem unglaubigen hunnischen
Obristen Craco, vorgegangen.’ 4to Regensburg, 1710.

[9] The legend tells us, that the Infernal Architect was sadly worried,
during his labours, by a cock and a dog. A cock and a bull would have
figured with more propriety in such a story.

[10] ‘Des Churbayer Atalantis, von A. W. Ertel.’ 8vo. Nurnberg, 1815.

[11] ‘Travels through Germany, etc.’ 4 vols. 4to. London, 1757, vol.
iv. p. 212. The saint must surely have been like Mrs. Malaprop’s
Cerberus--“Three gentlemen at once.”


[12] Yet I do not find them noticed by Mr. Dibdin, in his curious
‘Bibliographical Tour.’

[13] Kloster Windberg was originally a castle belonging to the Counts
of Bogen. Albert of Bogen and Hedwig his wife founded the monastery in
1145. In the neighbourhood, two hermits are said to have resided, one
of whom murdered the other.




                              CHAPTER II.

  Straubing--The Bridge--The Hauptstrasse--The Stadtthurm--The
  Pfarr, or Collegiat Kirche--Story of Agnes Bernauer--The
  Ramparts--The Atzelburg--Ober Altaich--Bogenberg--Kloster
  Metten--The Natternberg--Deggendorf--The Gnade Zeit--Confluence
  of the Isar and the Danube--Rafts from Munich to Vienna--Nieder
  Altaich--Hengersberg--Osterhofen--Hoch-winzer--Hofkirchen--Kinzing--
  Hildegartsberg--Vilshofen--Collegiat Stift--The Sandbach--New Road
  to Passau--Maximilian Joseph I., late King of Bavaria--Louis I., the
  present Monarch--Statue of a Lion--Approach to Passau.


Straubing is pleasantly situated on the right bank of a small arm of
the river, or, as it might be called, a canal, through which part of
the noble stream has, of late years, been conducted to the very walls.
In front of it, the mountains, which, as I have already mentioned,
have retreated from the left bank, form a fine amphitheatre, in the
centre of which, the insulated Bogenberg rises like a pyramid. Like
most cities of any size and antiquity in Germany, Straubing is divided
into an Alt-Stadt and a Neu-Stadt. The old town is conjectured by some
to have been the Serviodurum Augusti of the Romans, the seat of the
Castra Augustana, etc., and traces of some entrenchments, supposed to
be Roman, are still to be seen just without the walls. The name of
“Straubinga” (“Curtis Regia”) first occurs in an instrument, dated A.D.
902. About forty years afterwards, we hear of the deeds of the noble
knights of Straubing and Stein. At the latter end of the tenth century,
Henry III. obtained the surname of Pious, by presenting Straubing to
his brother Otto, Bishop of Augsburg, who left it to the cathedral and
chapter of that place. It was governed by an officer called a Vice Dom,
till the commencement of the thirteenth century, when New Straubing was
built, and the old town re-annexed to the Duchy of Bavaria. Frederick
the Handsome, of Austria, besieged and took it in 1319. In 1332, Louis
the Bavarian lay before the town from the 4th of July till the 24th of
August, when, provoked by its obstinate resistance, he threw a bridge
over the Danube, by Kagers, and, making a desperate assault at the
Spital-gate, succeeded at last in carrying the place by storm. His
son, Duke William, first husband of Matilda of Lancaster, built the
castle on the Danube, A.D. 1356. It is now converted into barracks. In
1393, Straubing was entirely destroyed by fire, and the conflagration
having begun at a joiner’s, no person of that trade was permitted to
reside in the city from that time till the year 1540. It was most
vigorously defended against the Duke of Saxe-Weimar, in 1633. The
burgomaster, Höller, an excellent marksman, shot upwards of thirty of
his best officers from the ramparts. In 1635, Straubing was visited by
a dreadful pestilence. In 1704, it was taken by the Austrians, and, in
1780, the best half of it fell a second time a prey to the flames. The
loss was estimated at more than a million of florins.

Straubing in its present state is cheerful and tolerably regular, but
more like a Dutch than a Bavarian town; the bridge across the Danube
is pretty, and the gate which terminates it fantastic. On entering the
Hauptstrasse or High-street, the eye is attracted by a quadrangular
tower, forming part of the Rath-haus or Guildhall, and much prized by
the Straubingers, who consider it the most ancient relic in the place;
but it seems to have been a terrible annoyance to Professor Schultes,
who neglects no opportunity of expressing his antipathy to it, and
astonishment that any reverence for its antiquity should prevent the
removal of a building, which hinders people from looking through the
town like a telescope. This Stadt-thurm as it is called is two hundred
feet high, and is now surmounted by a tin spire, with four smaller
pinnacles at the corners. There are two Latin inscriptions upon it, one
proclaiming its erection in 1208, and the other its renovation in 1783.
The largest building in the town is the Pfarr, or Collegiat Kirche,
commenced about 1432, and finished in 1512. In a small chapel in the
churchyard of St. Peter’s, in the Alt-stadt, is a red marble tablet,
on which reclines the effigy of a female surrounded by the following
inscription, “Anno Domini, +MCCCCXXXVI+, +XII+ Die Octobris, Obiit
Agnes Bernauerin. Requiescat in pace.”

      [Illustration: A marble tablet dedicate to Agnes Bernauer.]

The fate of this unfortunate lady has furnished the subject for a
tragedy to the Count of Torring Seefeld, and one more deeply affecting
is scarcely to be found in the page of history.

Albert, the only son of Duke Ernst of Bavaria, was one of the most
accomplished and valiant princes of the age he lived in. His father
and family had selected for his bride, the young Countess Elizabeth
of Würtemberg. The contract was signed and the marriage on the point
of taking place, when the lady suddenly eloped with a more favoured
lover, John Count of Werdenberg. The tidings were brought to Albert at
Augsburg, where he was attending a grand tournament given in honour
of the approaching nuptials, but they fell unheeded on his ear, as
his heart, which had not been consulted in the choice of his bride,
had just yielded itself, “rescue or no rescue,” to the bright eyes of
a young maiden whom he had distinguished from the crowd of beauties
that graced the lists. Virtuous as she was lovely, Agnes Bernauer had
obtained amongst the citizens of Augsburg, the appellation of “the
angel:” but she was the daughter of a bather, an employment considered
at that period, in Germany, as particularly dishonourable. Regardless
of consequences, however, he divulged his passion, and their marriage
was shortly afterwards privately celebrated in Albert’s castle at
Vohberg. Their happiness was doomed to be of short duration. Duke
Ernst became possessed of their secret, and the anger of the whole
house of Munich burst upon the heads of the devoted couple! Albert was
commanded to sign a divorce from Agnes, and prepare immediately to
marry Anna, daughter of Duke Erich of Brunswick. The indignant prince
refused to obey, and being afterwards denied admission to a tournament
at Regensburg, on the plea of his having contracted a dishonourable
alliance, he rode boldly into the lists upon the Heide Platz, before
the whole company declared Agnes Bernauer his lawful wife and duchess,
and conducted her to his palace at Straubing, attended as became her
rank. Every species of malice and misrepresentation was now set at
work to ruin the unfortunate Agnes. Albert’s uncle, Duke Wilhelm, who
was the only one of the family inclined to protect her, had a sickly
child, and she was accused of having administered poison to it. But
the duke detected the falsehood and became more firmly her friend.
Death too soon deprived her of this noble protector, and the fate of
the poor duchess was immediately sealed. Taking advantage of Albert’s
absence from Straubing, the authorities of the place arrested her on
some frivolous pretext, and the honest indignation with which she
asserted her innocence, was tortured into treason by her malignant
judges. She was condemned to die, and on Wednesday, October 12th, 1436,
was thrown over the bridge into the Danube, amidst the lamentations of
the populace[14]. Having succeeded in freeing one foot from the bonds
which surrounded her, the poor victim, shrieking for help and mercy,
endeavoured to reach the bank by swimming, and had nearly effected a
landing, when a barbarian in office, with a hooked pole, caught her by
her long fair hair, and dragging her back into the stream, kept her
under water until the cruel tragedy was completed. The fury and despair
of Albert on receiving these horrid tidings were boundless. He flew to
his father’s bitterest enemy, Louis the Bearded, at Ingolstadt, and
returned at the head of an hostile army to his native land, breathing
vengeance against the murderers of his beloved wife. The old duke,
sorely pressed by the arms of his injured son, and tormented by the
stings of conscience, implored the mediation of the Emperor Sigismund,
who succeeded after some time in pacifying Albert, and reconciling
him to his father, who, as a proof of his repentance, instituted a
perpetual mass for the soul of the martyred Agnes Bernauer. Albert
afterwards married Ann of Brunswick, by whom he had ten children.

The ramparts of this town are now almost entirely demolished, and
the fosses turned into kitchen-gardens. The former were once planted
with mulberry-trees, but they were destroyed during the late war,
when Straubing, though not absolutely stormed or invested, suffered
considerably from the constant passage of troops, and the skirmishing
in its neighbourhood. The Straubingers are more celebrated for good
living than hard work.

                        “On y mange et digére
                        Compère, compère;
                        On y fait bonne chere
                        Voilà tout le mystère!”

is the quotation of Prof. Schultes, and may with great propriety be
applied to many bodies corporate, of more pretension than the humble
one of Straubing.

The whole country was lighted up by a glorious sunset as we entered the
town to satisfy our curiosity and our appetite, and some time before
we returned from those important occupations, the “twilight grey” had
“in her sober livery all things clad.” We had determined on passing the
first night on board, in order to reach Vilshofen by breakfast-time
the following day, as from that place we understood the scenery would
become too interesting to admit of haste, or travelling after dark,
and preparations had been accordingly made by our little crew. The
sides of the zille were boarded up, and straw and boat-cloaks so
arranged as to make us a very comfortable couch, upon which we had no
sooner stretched ourselves than the word was given, and by the light
of the stars we dropped gently down the river, passing the Atzelburg
and Hockstetter-hof on the right bank. The former, also called the
Aciliusburg, is conjectured by some to have been the retreat of the
Roman Consul Acilius, when exiled for the _crime_ of Christianity, and
originally named from him Acilia Augusta. In its neighbourhood are some
entrenchments believed to be Roman. Reibersdorf, Kleinau, and Ebling
are villages on the right bank. Near the latter the small stream of the
Aitrach joins the Danube. On the left is Lenach, remarkable only as
having been purchased by the monks of Altaich in 1139, for ninety-five
Pf. Pfennige, about five shillings, English.

Notwithstanding the precautions we had taken, I was too cold as
well as too curious to sleep; and as the moon got up so did I, and,
seating myself by the cabin door, looked on the gradually brightening
landscape, and listened to the songs of the boatmen who, as they lazily
plied their unwieldy paddles, warbled in their own peculiar style--a
style rendered familiar to London ears, by the interesting “Rainer
family,” for it is not confined to the Tyrol--several wild but pleasing
melodies. It is very provoking that the English should be, perhaps,
the only people who have no idea of singing in parts; an untutored
boatman, peasant, or soldier of almost any of the continental nations
will suddenly strike in with an extemporary and very creditable bass,
though the air be led off by an utter stranger to him. On the banks
of the Main at Aschaffenburg, and at Möhdling in the Wienerwald, I
was particularly struck with this pleasing talent, and have noticed
it repeatedly both in France and Switzerland. The complaint that the
English are not a musical nation is in my opinion better borne out
by this circumstance, than by the alleged deficiency of celebrated
composers, or the want of taste in the mixed audiences of our Concert
Rooms and Theatres. There is certainly no comparison between “the
native wood-notes wild” of a Devonshire ploughman, and those of a
Bavarian bauer.

We soon came in sight of Ober-Altaich, a celebrated Benedictine
kloster. A Druidical altar is said to have been destroyed here by
the holy Parminius, who, with his own hand, cut down the oak under
which it stood, and caused a chapel to be erected upon the spot. The
convent was founded by Duke Uttilo II. A.D. 731, who brought thither
twelve Benedictine monks and an abbot from Reichenau, in the Lake of
Constance. The Hungarians destroyed it in 907, and it was a ruin for
nearly two hundred years, when Count Frederick of Bogen rebuilt it,
and, with his wife and sons, so liberally endowed and patronised it,
that in the thirteenth century there were no less than one hundred and
eighteen monks here, most of them of noble birth; and the dignity of
prince was granted to its abbots by Louis the Brandenburgher. In 1634,
Ober-Altaich was burnt by the Swedes, but shortly afterwards rose from
its ashes, more magnificent than ever,--a circumstance, says Schultes,
not at all surprising when you consider that, in spite of their vow
of poverty, the holy brotherhood enjoyed an annual income of thirty
thousand florins (between four and five thousand pounds sterling,) an
immense sum for this part of Germany, where a florin in the hands of a
native will go nearly as far as a pound in England. Passing the mouth
of the little Kinzach, and the villages of Saut and Hundersdorf, we
at length approached the long-seen Bogenberg. Upon its summit lie the
last crumbling relics of an old fortress, the Stammschloss[15] of the
once-dreaded Counts of Bogen. Germany in the times they flourished was,
as the Legate Cupanus described it in his letters to Rome--a den of
thieves. The deplorable state into which the whole empire was plunged
by the quarrels between the popes and the house of Swabia, the almost
total annihilation of the imperial power by the death of Conrad IV.,
and the interregnum that followed the death of Richard King of the
Romans, in 1271, is vividly described by contemporary writers, one of
whom, in the language of scripture, exclaims, “In those days there
was no king in Israel, and every one did that which was right in his
own eyes.” “The earth (says another) mourned and languished, Mount
Lebanon was shaken from its foundations, and the moon was turned into
blood[16].” The terms noble and robber were synonymous, and the higher
the rank the more lawless and rapacious were the deeds of the titled
ruffian. The castle of Bogen was admirably adapted for a bandit’s hold.
Seated upon the apex of a pyramidical rock, inaccessible but by one
narrow pass on its eastern side, which a handful of determined men
might keep against a host, and commanding a view over nearly half the
dukedom of Bavaria, its lawless lord watched from its battlements, like
a vulture, the approach of his unsuspecting prey, and, pouncing upon
it, bore it up in triumph to his mountain eyrie, where he feasted at
his leisure in security. The domains of the Counts of Bogen extended
from Regensburg to the Ilz, and from the shores of the Danube far into
Bohemia. Their friendship and alliance were sought by King and Kaiser,
by the Dukes of Bavaria, and the Markgraves of Austria; and their feuds
with the Counts of Ortenburg deluged the land repeatedly with blood.
But bigotry and superstition lost them what rapine and murder had won.
Their revenues filled the coffers of greedy abbots, and their castles
were gradually transformed into convents. An image of the Virgin was
one day seen floating upon the Danube, and drifting ashore near the
little market-town of Bogen, which lies at the foot of the mountain, on
its western side, rested on a stone on the bank. Count Answin, struck
with so _miraculous_ an occurrence, presented the castle of Bogen to
the kloster of Ober Altaich, which his brother Frederick had founded.
Forty years afterwards, Count Albert I. of Bogen was wheedled out of
the castle of Windberg by another holy fraternity; and about the middle
of the thirteenth century the family became extinct, by the death of
Count Albert IV., who had followed the unfortunate Emperor, Frederick
II., to the Holy Land. Ludmilla, the mother of this last Count of
Bogen, was a Bohemian Princess; and, on the death of her husband,
Albert III., Louis II., Duke of Bavaria, becoming enamoured of her
from report, offered her marriage, provided, says the chronicle, he
should like her upon a personal acquaintance. Ludmilla consented to
this proposition, and the duke visited her accordingly. Suspecting,
however, the sincerity of his protestations, she one day requested
him, as in a joke, to plight his troth to her in a tapestried chamber,
and to consider the figures of three knights, worked in the hangings,
as witnesses of the contract. The duke, to humour this apparently
childish fancy, smilingly held up his hand, and took the oath required
of him, when, to his utter astonishment, three living knights, “good
men and true,” stepped out from behind the tapestry, where they had
been purposely concealed by the cunning Bohemian, and compelled the
ensnared potentate to ratify his pledge[17]. The church of our Lady
of Bogen, erected in honour of the miraculous image before-mentioned,
stands beside the ruins of the castle, and from six to eight thousand
pilgrims have been known at one time to congregate about its far-famed
shrine. It has been several times injured by lightning, and its roof
carried away by the high winds, a natural consequence of its exposed
situation. A thunderstorm burst over it on Whit-Tuesday, A.D. 1618,
during one of these meetings, and the lightning having fired the
steeple, such confusion ensued, that fourteen persons were crushed
to death[18]. The Bogenberg and its vicinity have been fertile in
miracles. A ridiculous story is told by Æmilius Hemmauer, a prior of
Ober-Altaich, about a moving altar, and in the little market-town is
shown a tooth of St. Sebastian, over which water is poured into a
goblet; and it is gravely asserted that whoever drinks of this water,
need fear no infectious disorder for twelve months to come. The little
rivers Bogen and Menach join the Danube near this spot, and on the
opposite shore are the villages of Absam and Hermansdorf.

As the Danube approaches its confluence with the Isar, its banks become
bolder and more interesting; a crowd of villages present themselves,
amongst which the most important are Pfelling, whence a considerable
quantity of wood is sent to Vienna; Irlbach, the principal depôt
for the corn of the Dunkelboden, before the Danube washed the walls
of Straubing; and Wischelburgh, on the site of the Roman Bisonium,
destroyed by the tremendous Attila.

Kloster-Metten, on the left bank, according to the legend, owes its
foundation to the following circumstances: A herdsman of Michaelbuch,
named Gamelbert, awaking from a deep sleep, in which he had been
indulging beneath a tree, found, to his surprise, a book lying upon his
breast. On examination he found it was written in English, and, though
he knew just as much of the language as the beasts that were grazing
before him, he immediately commenced reading it, and was so edified by
its contents, that he abandoned his flocks and herds, and, repairing to
Rome, became a Christian priest. On his way thither he baptised a boy,
whom he named Utto, and desired his parents to send the lad to him when
he became a man; they did so, and Gamelbert made over to him the care
of the souls of the worthy inhabitants of Michaelbuch. Utto, however,
had no great affection for his new calling, and leaving the poor souls
to take care of themselves, crossed the Danube, and wandered into the
Waldes, where he built a hermitage, in honour of the Archangel Michael,
near a spring, which is still called Utto’s Spring, and amused himself
with sundry curious pranks, amongst which was the rather difficult
one of hanging his axe upon a sunbeam! Charlemagne, hunting in the
neighbourhood, caught the holy hermit in the fact, and, astonished, as
well he might be, by so extraordinary a performance, promised to grant
him any boon he might be pleased to ask. Utto requested that a convent
might be built on the spot, and Kloster-Metten was erected at the
command of Charlemagne.

On the opposite side to Kloster-Metten, suddenly rises the remarkable
Natternberg the only rock on the right bank from Prufening to
Pleinting, a distance of upwards of eighty English miles. It is nearly
three hundred feet high; and on its summit are the ruins of another
castle, which belonged to the Counts of Bogen, who made it their
residence in 1232. The curious appearance of this mass of granite,
standing in solitary majesty upon this extensive plain, and cut off,
as it were, from its giant brethren of the Böhmer-Wald by the bright
and trenchant Danube, has given rise to many speculations amongst
the geologists of Germany; but while the learned are at loggerheads
respecting this natural phenomenon, the honest people who reside
in its neighbourhood, and who, therefore, surely have a right to a
voice on the subject, have settled the question completely to their
own satisfaction. The Devil, say they, hating the Deggendorfers, for
their piety, determined to destroy them outright; and, with that
intention, brought a rock from Italy, (none in the neighbourhood, I
presume, being suitable to his purpose,) with the malicious intention
of hurling it upon the devoted town of Deggendorf, and crushing
it, with all its inhabitants, into the Danube. Passing opposite to
Kloster-Metten, “half flying, half on foot,” with this formidable
missile under his arm, the bells of the convent rang for the Ave
Maria! The virtue of the holy sounds was immediately felt by the arch
apostate. “Gnashing for anguish, and despite, and shame,” he dropped
the mountain “like a hot potatoe,” and there, where it fell, it stands
to this day; an immutable proof of the power of bell-ringing, and a
monument of the piety and narrow escape of the Deggendorfers. In the
castle, on its crest, Duke Albert of Austria besieged his faithless
favourite Peter Ecker, A.D. 1347; and Henry of Landshut was educated
within its walls, from which circumstance he obtained the additional
sirname of the Natternberger. The castle was reduced to its present
ruinous state by the Swedes, and now belongs to a Count of Preising.
From the little place, called Fischerdorf, at the foot of the mountain,
the town of Deggendorf is seen lying in a beautiful valley, surrounded
by hills that rise in circles, each above the other, and having in
front the Danube; here broader than in any other part of Bavaria,
(nearly one thousand two hundred feet,) across which is a wooden
bridge, supported by twenty-six piers, but built so slightly, in order
that it may be easily removed to give an annual passage to the ice,
that Schultes says, it shakes under the curvetting of a single horse.
Of the ancient history of Deggendorf very little is known, its records
having been all destroyed; some by the Swedes, under Bernhard von
Weimar, and the rest by fire, in 1638.

Pilgrims, from all parts of Germany, flock to Deggendorf upon Saint
Michael’s eve, which is a celebrated Gnade-zeit, (time of grace,) when
absolution is granted to all comers, in consequence of some miraculous
circumstances that, in the year 1337, attended the purloining and
insulting of the Host by a woman and some Jews; who, having bought the
consecrated wafer from her, scratched it with thorns till it bled, and
the image of a child appeared; baked it, vision and all, in an oven;
hammered it upon an anvil, the block of which is still shown to the
pilgrim; attempted to cram it down “their accursed throats,” (I quote
the words of the original description,) but were prevented by the hands
and feet of the vision aforesaid; and finally, despairing to destroy
it, flung it into a well, which was immediately surrounded by a nimbus,
etc. I should not have noticed these disgusting falsehoods, but for
the melancholy fact, that the circulation of this trumpery story was
considered a sufficient cause, by the _pious_ Deggendorfers, for the
indiscriminate massacre of all the wretched Jews in the place; which
infamous and bloody deed was perpetrated the day after St. Michael,
sanctioned by _Christian_ priests, who, in grand procession, carried
back the indestructible wafer to the church, and solemnly approved,
in 1489, by Pope Innocent VIII., who issued his bull for the general
absolution abovementioned[19]. Above fifty thousand pilgrims assembled
here in 1801; and as late as 1815, so considerable were their numbers,
that the greater part of them passed the night in the streets of the
town, and in the fields in its neighbourhood.

The moon had set before we passed Deggendorf, but the night was light
enough to see the “Isar rolling rapidly,” through its many mouths, to
join the mighty Danube; and the spire of Plattling in the distance, a
tolerably sized market-town, where there is a bridge across the former
river, and the post-house, between Straubing and Vilshofen. Below
this bridge, the raft-masters of Munich, who leave that city every
Monday for Vienna, unite their rafts before they enter the Danube. They
descend the Isar upon single rafts only; but upon reaching this point
they lash them together in pairs, and in fleets of three, four, or six
pairs, they set out for Vienna. A voyage is made pleasantly enough
upon these floating islands, as they have all the agrémens without the
confinement of a boat. A very respectable promenade can be made from
one end to the other, and two or three huts erected upon them afford
shelter in bad weather and repose at night.

Isargemünd, situated in one of the many islands, at the confluence of
the rivers, is the only village on your right till you reach Thundorf,
where there is a ferry over to Nieder Altaich; on the left are the
Halbe-meile-kirche, and two or three small hamlets.

Nieder Altaich, another Benedictine convent[20], and, at one time, the
most important that the order possessed in Bavaria; its annual income
being not less than one hundred thousand florins; stands at the foot of
the frowning Böhmer-wald, which here again bends its bushy brows upon
the bright river. Saint Parminius is said to have acted the same scene
here which has already been described in the notice of Ober Altaich.
And Uttilo II., not contented with having founded that kloster, brought
hither an equal number of monks from the same monastery of Reichenau,
and established them in a like manner. Its abbot soon became the
richest in Bavaria; but the Hungarians, in the tenth century, ravaged
the country with fire and sword, and Nieder Altaich suffered the fate
of its prototype. In 990, however, it was rebuilt, and still more
richly endowed by the Emperor Otto, and Henry Duke of Bavaria. Saint
Gotthard came barefooted from Reichersdorf, where he was born in 965,
of humble parents, and from a monk became abbot, and lastly, bishop
of Hildesheim, where he died, A.D. 1035. The monks of Nieder Altaich,
it appears, gradually forgot the pious lessons and fair example of
Saint Gotthard; which, during his life, had materially improved the
reputation of the community; for in 1282, we find them making a riddle
of their abbot with arrows, from an ambush on the river side, as he
is crossing the ferry to Thundorf[21]. The abbots, themselves, also,
were many of them unworthy successors of that holy man. One of the last
superiors of this kloster, for instance, by name Augustin Ziegler, not
contented with expending annually upwards of ninety thousand florins,
ran the fraternity into a debt of nearly one hundred thousand before he
was _invited_ to retire from the cares of office, and live in peace at
Straubing, upon a slender annuity. In the “Topographischen Lexicon von
Baiern,” 2s., 508., is the following account of this worthy prelate,
who seems to have formed a very tolerable idea of the “otium cum
dignitate,” which should bless an abbot of Benedictines. “Besides his
valet he had two pages. On his name-day all the principal persons of
the government of Straubing assembled in the grand refectory of Nieder
Altaich. A band of trumpets and kettle-drums was in attendance, from
daybreak, facing his chamber window, and the moment his Excellency (for
he had purchased the title of a privy councillor) opened his eyes, the
pages undrew the curtains of cloth of gold, amidst a flourish from the
trumpets and kettle-drums without, while a battery of small mortars
proclaimed in thunder to the surrounding country, the dawning of the
name-day of this important personage.” His conduct, however, soon
became so notorious that he was compelled to resign, and retire upon
an annual allowance of two hundred ducats and ten eimers of wine. Ten
times has this kloster been burned down, and rebuilt each time more
magnificently; till at last, if we may believe Lackner’s account, the
very oxen of the community eat out of marble mangers--“pecora fecit in
marmore pabulari!”

A little beyond Nieder Altaich, upon the same bank, is the town of
Hengersberg, with its old castle, given, in 1212, by Altnann von
Helingersberg to Saint Mauritius, then abbot of that kloster. The
Danube formerly flowed over part of the bank, and, what is now the
lazzar-house, was, at that time, the river toll-house. At Hengersberg,
the Danube again turns from the Bohemian mountains, as wearied with
its unavailing efforts to penetrate the giant line; but the gentle
eminences which still skirt its left bank are enough to preserve its
superiority to that of the right, which, all the way from Ratisbon,
with the solitary exception of the Natternberg, had not presented
one hillock to break the long, low line of shore, more in keeping
with the sluggish stream of a Dutch canal, than with the rapid waves
of the “boiling Danube,” an epithet, by the bye, more descriptive
than any other of its singular current, which, whether running fast
or slowly, keeps up a constant whirling, eddying, and bubbling,
accompanied by a low hissing sound which (pardon, gentle reader, the
humble comparison) reminded our English ears of nothing so much as the
singing of a tea-kettle. After passing a handful of villages, whose
almost unpronounceable names shall be presented hereafter, in their due
order, to the curious in consonants, we glided by Osterhofen, a little
town on the side of a small hill, a short distance from the shore. It
is one of the oldest towns in Bavaria, and was the site of the Castra
Petrensia. The Avars, who desolated the banks of the Danube during the
sixth, seventh, and eighth centuries, here suffered a serious defeat;
and the victory having been gained on an Easter Sunday, the town took
the name of _Oster_-hofen, and still bears in its arms a Paschal lamb.
In the meadow where the battle was fought, and named from that event,
“Oster-wiese,” stood Kloster Oster-hofen, erected in honour of, and
gratitude for, the defeat of the barbarians. Hither Uttilo II. brought
some more of his friends, the Benedictines; but the barbarians returned
in 765, thirsting for vengeance, and gratified it by razing the
Kloster to the ground. It was rebuilt, but the rest of its history is
neither clear nor interesting. The indefatigable Uttilo is supposed to
have been buried here, where also lie, according to report, which may
be said to _lie_ also, nine of the eleven thousand virgins who suffered
martyrdom with Saint Ursula at Cologne.

Below Osterhofen, on the left, are the picturesque ruins of the Castle
of Hoch-Winzer, or Ober-Winzer, over the little town of the same name.
Both town and castle received this appellation from the considerable
vineyards which flourished here; but who the Lords of Winzer were,
or what feats they achieved, Schultes says he has not been able to
discover: all that is known about them is, that they lie buried at
Osterhofen. The Pandours reduced the castle to its present ruinous
condition in 1741[22]. Flinschbach, built, in 1230, by the Counts of
Bogen, and three or four other villages of still less note, on each
side of the river, enliven the scene, till the ruins of the Castle
of Hofkirchen rise on the left bank; in the fourteenth century, the
residence of the powerful Counts of Ortenburg, the sworn enemies of the
Counts of Bogen, and the terror of all navigators of the Danube. What,
with barefaced plundering, and the exercise of a self-erected right,
called “grundruhr,” which literally signifies grounding, scarcely
a vessel escaped the clutches of these robber lords. This right of
grundruhr entitled them to take possession of every vessel, with its
crew and cargo, that grounded upon any bank, shoal, or island, within
their domain. If it but grated on the sand, or brushed the shore, it
was immediately pronounced “grundrürhrig” by the armed vassals of
the noble bandit, who were continually on the watch, and who made no
scruple of chasing the unfortunate schiffers till they drove them
aground, and then coolly laid _legal_ claim to their property.

Nearly opposite Winzer is Kinzing, or Kinzen, the Castra Quintana, or
Augusta Quintanorum Colonia of the Romans, upon a small height, from
whence a little brook leaps into the Danube. Several miracles are
related of Saint Severinus, who resided here during the fifth century,
how he saved the place from inundation, by planting a cross on the
river’s bank; how he brought his dead friend Sylvin to life again, in
the wooden church that stood outside the walls, and how Sylvin took it
in exceeding ill part, and insisted on dying again immediately. “I beg
of thee, I conjure thee,” exclaimed the indignant Sylvin, “not to rouse
me from the rest which God has appointed for me! Why hast thou awakened
me? Why hast thou brought me back into a world, into which I never
more wish to return?” The Saint, I suspect, looked uncommonly silly on
receiving this unexpected rap on the knuckles: his apology, if one he
made, has not come down to us. The _fact_ is related on the authority
of a young peasant girl, who hid herself in the church, on purpose to
witness the miracle which she suspected was about to be performed; and
it would be the height of impertinence, under such circumstances, to
inquire into particulars.

By the time we had reached Kinzing,

  “Morn, her rosy steps in th’ orient clime,
   Advancing, sowed the earth with eastern pearl;”

And as we made the point which brought us in view of the fine old ruin
of Hildegartsberg, the sun rising immediately behind it shot his
glorious rays, like golden arrows; through the loop-holes and windows
of its bare and blackened walls, that frowned still darker from the
blaze of light behind them. It was a scene in which the spirit of that
daring artist, Turner, would have revelled. My companion, who had given
me tolerable proofs during our passage from London to Ostend; that he
could “sleep in spite of thunder,” was awakened by my raptures; and we
stood, at the head of the boat, gazing at the beautiful picture, and
basking in the welcome beams of “the great lamp by which the world is
blest,” till the river, suddenly taking a new direction, brought us
again into the shadow of the left bank, and showed us Vilshofen, with
its long light bridge and pretty gardens laughing in the sunshine, at
the farther extremity of the valley we had now entered. Little appears
to be known about Hildegartsberg further than that it was like so many
other castles on the Rhine, the Danube, etc., the hold of some robber
knight, noble, or priest, of the middle ages, and destroyed by Duke
Albert of Austria, in 1346.

That most delightful of all chroniclers, Froissart, who commenced
his interesting annals shortly after this period, gives a lamentable
account of the brutality and avarice of the nobility and clergy of
Germany. “When a German hath taken a prisoner,” (says he,) “he putteth
him into irons, and into hard prison, without any pity, to make him pay
the greater finance and ransom.”[23] Again, “They are a covetous people
above all other. They have no pity if they have the upper hand, and
they demean themselves with cruelty to their prisoners. They put them
to sundry pains, to compel them to make their ransoms greater; and, if
they have a lord or a great man for their captive, they make great joy
thereof, and will convey him into Bohemia, Austria, or Saxony, and keep
him in some uninhabitable castle. They are people worse than Saracens
or Paynims; for their excessive covetousness quencheth the knowledge of
honour;”[24] and Schmidt[25] tells us, that an archbishop thought he had
a fair revenue before him, when he built his fortress on the junction
of four “roads.”

Nearly facing Hildegartsberg is Pleinting, a small market-town, at
which the plain stretching from the gates of Regensburg, along the
right bank of the Danube, at last terminates, and the beauty of the
river really commences. The road from Straubing runs beside it, upon
a sort of terrace, and the sight of a post-chariot whirling along,
recalled our wandering thoughts from the dark but interesting ages
into which the contemplation of ruined tower and cloister grey had led
them, to the less romantic, but, in our situation, equally interesting
prospect, of a good inn and a capital breakfast. Alas! it seemed as
if neither were to be found in Vilshofen, or, at least, that it was
decreed we should not meet with them. Gilt lions, red stags, white
horses, and blue bulls; apples and orange trees, as a herald would say,
“proper;” crowns and coronets, and heads every way worthy of them;
suns, moons, and stars, “yea, the great globe itself,” swung to and
fro in the morning breeze, in every direction, and in endless variety;
but in vain, from spot to spot, “with courteous action, they waved us
to a more removed ground.” The exteriors of these caravanserais alone
were promising. If “houses of entertainment” they were, that quality
seemed entirely restricted to the outside. Their newly white-washed
walls, and neatly painted green doors and shutters, surmounted by one
of the glittering ensigns aforesaid, but served to make the dark gulf
of the long, low-roofed, rambling, unfurnished, smoky speise-saal,
appear more dreary, dirty, and uncomfortable; and it was some time
before even hunger, that least ceremonious of all sensations, could
induce us to make the plunge. Having at last screwed up our courage
to the sticking-place, we rushed into--the Moon, I believe; made the
hostess stare, by drinking four or five “portions” of coffee, which
turned out better than we expected, and ate a most respectable quantum
of tolerable “butter brod” and half a dozen eggs; for the whole of
which we paid twenty kreutzers (about sixpence English) each, being
then charged at least double what would have been demanded of their own
countrymen.

Vilshofen was the Villa Quintanica of the Romans, and is situated
at the confluence of the river Vils with the Danube. Rapoto, Count
of Ortenburg, fortified it in the eleventh century; and its history
from that period is little more than an unbroken narrative of takings
and retakings, plunderings and burnings, down to the end of the last
war. Its principal trade is in beer; for a particular sort of which
beverage it has been long celebrated: and its principal building
is an ecclesiastical establishment, for which I cannot find an
English name to my liking, that owes its foundation to the following
circumstance:--Heinrich Tuschl, knight of Saldenau, upon ocular proof
of his wife’s infidelity, condemned the miserable woman to be walled up
alive, abjured the company, and shunned the sight of females, and left
the greater part of his property in 1376 to found this establishment.
Upon the charter was written:

                      “2 Hund an ain Bain;
                       Ich Tuschl bleib allain.”

                      “Two dogs to one bone;
                       I Tuschl bide alone.”[26]

Having re-embarked and passed under the wooden bridge, on the centre
of which is a crucifix, we passed by Hacheldorf, which forms a kind
of suburb to Vilshofen, and the market town of Windorf, famous for
boat-building. Near Hansbach the little Wolfach falls into the Danube;
and below this spot the river boils over numberless sunken rocks,
many of which show their white heads above the water, studding the
stream in all directions. Shortly afterwards the river narrows, and a
slight fall, or what our sailors call a race, ensues. The watermen,
who magnify the little difficulties of this navigation into the most
astounding dangers, call this “das gefürchtete Sandbach!” The cottages
on the banks now assumed a Swiss appearance, being all of wood, with
galleries across their gables, and far-projecting roofs. A slight
change was also perceivable in the costume of the women; the little
black silk cap, with its long ribbon streamers, had given place to a
dark-coloured cotton handkerchief, bound closely round the head, and
tied in a knot behind, the ends hanging down. The impetus given to the
current by the little fall now carried us merrily along, to the great
delight of our lazy boatmen, who made it a point of conscience not to
wag a finger when they could possibly avoid it, past Gaishofen, where
a small stream called the Gaisach joins the Danube, and Heining on the
right bank, and Dobelstein (formerly called Engelberg) on the left.
For a new road cut through the rocks on the very brink of the river,
by which nearly six English miles are saved in posting to Passau,
Bavaria and its visiters are indebted to Maximilian-Joseph, the father
of the present monarch, Louis I. who, treading in the footsteps of his
excellent sire, inherits not only his crown but the affection of his
people; and by his unbounded kindness and liberality to the professors
of the fine arts, has obtained throughout the continent the honourable
addition to his style, of “the King of the Learned.” In the tour, of
which this descent of the Danube formed a part, I travelled nearly all
over Bavaria, and had the gratification of hearing the praises of its
king from all lips and in all places; not the mere mouth-homage which
betrays itself by the cold precision of the language in which it is
couched, but the ebullition of feeling rushing pure from the heart,
and leaping the barriers of ceremony in its honest ardour. “Our king
is a good fellow,” is the homely but expressive phrase in which his
character is invariably summed up by all who speak of him. Shortly
after he came to the throne, he disbanded an expensive body-guard, and
on being questioned as to the policy of the act, he replied, “We are at
peace; why should I burden my people with an unnecessary expense? as
for myself, I want no regiment to protect me, my fellow-citizens are my
body-guard.” In a very handsome new street erecting in Munich by his
order, there is an unseemly gap occasioned by an antique isolated house
standing edgeways in the centre of the modern buildings. On expressing
our surprise that it was allowed to remain there, we were told that it
belonged to an old general, who had resisted every proposal for its
demolition, and it having been suggested to the king to compel him, his
answer was, “No, no, let him have his way; he is an old man, and has
perchance but a few years to live; I will not abridge their number by
annoying him.” His majesty frequently takes a country walk alone, or
with but one attendant, and, dressed like a farmer, chats freely and
jocularly with the peasantry; never leaving them, however, without some
mark of his bounty.

I cannot be expected to vouch for the truth of these anecdotes as
far as regards their details or the exact expressions used, but they
are amongst the many in general circulation; and an excellent modern
tourist has justly remarked, that “an anecdote in general circulation,
even though not strictly true in point of fact, will commonly be
accordant to the character of the person of whom it is related, and
will thus be a correct, though perhaps a fictitious illustration of his
mode of acting.” The person of Louis is worthy his noble character;
intelligence and spirit are visible in every line of his countenance;
a high forehead, large and deeply-set dark eyes, to which a profusion
of black hair, pushed carelessly off the temples, and dark upturned
mustachios, would give something like an expression of fierceness,
were it not for the benignant smile which plays about his mouth
when addressing you. His queen, too, is renowned for her beauty and
affability; and, in short, a more handsome and deservedly popular pair
never graced a continental throne.

But to return to the Danube, from whence I have wandered to pay my
humble tribute of praise to one of the best of monarchs. By the side
of the new road before mentioned is the statue of a lion-couchant
upon a pedestal, and placed upon a jutting rock, with an inscription
beneath it stating the chaussée to have been made by command of
Maximilian-Joseph I., King of Bavaria. In a few minutes after you have
passed this monument, the towers of the church of Maria-hilf appear
above the hills, and shortly afterwards the cathedral of Passau, and
the old fort of Oberhaus on the opposite height, are seen rising over
the foliage of an island in the centre of the river. The approach to
the city between the island and the left bank is most beautiful; and
whoever is acquainted with the scenery of the Rhine will immediately
acknowledge, that it has not improperly obtained the appellation of
“the Coblentz of the Danube.”


                        FOOTNOTES (CHAPTER II)

[14] Professor Schultes says, the date on the tombstone is incorrect,
and that it should be October 12th, 1435, as Albert married again 1436.
The bridge from which she was precipitated, was that which crossed the
old arm of the Danube, and no longer exists. The present bridge passes
over the new branch of the river, that washes the town and connects
its northern side with the Island called the Donauwiese, in which the
famous Sossau fair, which began on the Sunday after Michaelmas, and
lasted eight days, was formerly held.

[15] The original castle of a particular family--the cradle of the
race. _Schloss_ is, however, a most convenient word, as it not only
stands for a castle or a palace, but for those buildings which are both
or neither. The _chateaux_ of France, and the _seats_ or _mansions_ of
England.

[16] The Archbishop of Cologne, in a Letter to the Pope.

[17] Henry Döring has a ballad on this subject, entitled, “Die Zeugen,”
(the Witnesses.) Vide ‘Ruinen oder Taschenbüch zür Geschicte verfalener
Ritterburgen und Schlosser, etc. Wien, 1826. 1 Sammlung.’ One might be
pardoned for supposing the proverb of “Walls have ears,” to have arisen
from this adventure.

[18]
   “Tausend sechs hundert zehn und acht,
   Am dritten Pfingstag, nach Mittnacht.
   Schlug das Wildfeur oben ein,
   Lief aus dem Thurm in d’kirch hinein;
   Die kirch gesteckt voll Kirchfarther war
   Der brennets viel: zwey sturben gar.
   In diesem Schreken, Strauss, und Brauss
   Drang alle welt zur Kirchen auss;
   Der gross Gewalt erdruckt ohnverschon
   Vier manns und zehen weibsperson
   Da liegn ihr in zwey Grabern todt
   Drey Mann, sibn Weiber: tröst sie Gott.”
                  ‘Hemmauer,’ a. a. O. 357.

[19] The whole of these circumstances, from the stealing of the Host
to the granting of the Bull, are represented in paintings on the walls
of the church. Nearly the same story is told at Bruxelles of three
miraculous wafers, which were stolen and stabbed by Jews, in 1369; and
for which imputed crime, several of that persecuted people were burnt
alive, by order of Duke Wenceslaus. The author of ‘Les Délices des
Pays Bas’ tells us, that, “Les hosties et les marques durent encore
aujourd’hui, et ne souffrent pas qu’on les approche _sans je me sçai
quelle horreur toute sainte_. On les garde pour un gage particulier de
la protection divine envers la ville de Brusselles.” Vol. i. p. 121.
It appears that the Deggendorfers owed the Jews a considerable sum of
money; it is, therefore, most probable that the story was got up to
enable them, as the debt grew troublesome, to wash it out in blood.
Vide ‘Das obsiegende Glaubenswunder des ganzen Christl. Churlandes
Baiern willsagen _unlaugbarer_ Bericht, etc.’ 8vo. Deggendorf, 1814.

[20] “So soon another,” says Schultes, “I think I hear the traveller
and the reader exclaim, who may not be acquainted with the magnitude
of this order.” And then he proceeds to give, from Hemmauer, the
following list of popes, priests, emperors, kings, etc. who had, up to
that time, embraced the Order of Saint Benedict: viz. “Sixty-three
popes, two hundred and twenty-three cardinals, two hundred and
fifty-five patriarchs, sixteen thousand archbishops, forty-six thousand
bishops, twenty-one emperors, twenty-five empresses, forty-eight
kings, fifty-four queens, one hundred and forty-six imperial and royal
children, and four hundred and forty-five sovereign princes and dukes!”
Donaufahrten, tom. i. 8. 374. note.

[21] Memoriale, seu Altachiæ inferioris memoria superstes, ex tabulis,
annalibus, diplomatis, etc. 6. Joan. Bapt. Lackner etc. Fol. Passavii,
1779.

[22] Schultes says, in 1740; but this must be a mistake, as Maria
Theresa was not crowned Queen of Hungary till the 25th of June, 1741;
and it was after that ceremony that, clad in deep mourning, with the
crown of St. Stephen on her head, and the scimitar at her side, she
made the affecting address to the Diet, which, rousing the whole
nation, brought its numerous tribes from the banks of the Save, the
Drave, the Teiss and the Danube, to the royal standard. These troops,
under the names of Croats, Pandours, Sclavonians, Warasdinians, and
Tolpaches, exhibited a new and astonishing spectacle to the eyes of
Europe. By their dress and arms, by the ferocity of their manners, and
their singular mode of combat, they struck terror into the disciplined
armies of Germany and France. Vide Coxe’s ‘History of the House of
Austria,’ 8vo. vol. iv. p. 442.--Baron Riesbeck, who also dates the
circumstance 1740, says, “When the Hungarian nobility took the field
for their _king_ Maria Theresa, the first sight of such troops struck
the French army with a panic. They had, indeed, often seen detachments
of these ‘_Diables d’Hongrie_,’ as they used to call them; but a
whole army, drawn up in battle array, unpowdered from the general to
the common soldier, half their faces covered with long whiskers, a
sort of round beaver on their heads instead of hats, without ruffles
or frills to their shirts, and without feathers, all clad in rough
skins, monstrous crooked sabres, ready drawn and uplifted, their eyes
darting flashes of rage sharper than the beams of their naked sabres,
was a sight our men had not been accustomed to see.” (It must be
remembered that Riesbeck, though a German, writes in the character
of a Frenchman.) “Our oldest officers still remember the impression
these terrible troops made, and how difficult it was to make the men
stand against them, till they had been accustomed to their formidable
appearance.” Pinkerton’s Collect. vol. vi. p. 112.

[23] Liv. i. ch. 433.

[24] Liv. ii. ch. 125.

[25] Geschichte der Deutschen.

[26] The canons or prebends of this establishment have the
word “allain,” (“alone,”) inscribed upon their arms, their clothes,
and their houses. Schultes tells us that a wag Latinised it “Solus cum
sola.”




                             CHAPTER III.

 Passau--The Inn-stadt--The Fair--The Cathedral--The
 Bridge--Fortress of Oberhaus--Celebrated View--Maria-hilf--The
 Ilz-stadt--The Sword Cutlery--Present Manufactures and Commerce
 of Passau--Talismans--Goitres--Excursions into the Environs of
 Passau--Confluence of the Inn and the Danube--Krempenstein--Hafner
 Zell--Its Manufactories--Fichtenstein--The Jochenstein--The Ruin of
 Ried.


A spot where three rivers meet, amidst a quadruple chain of mountains,
rising four hundred feet above the level of the water, was not
likely to escape the notice of the ancient lords of the world, and
consequently the Romans built, upon the promontory between the Inn and
the Danube, their “Castra Batava.” The Inn-stadt, on the right bank of
the Inn, and which is connected with Passau by a bridge across that
river, was the Roman Bojodurum. In St. Severin’s time it was called
Boitro. The saint saved the city from the wrath of Gibuld, King of
Swabia, but it was destroyed by Chunimund, the successor of Gibuld,
while Severin was at his kloster near Vienna, A.D. 475. Bibilo, Bishop
of Lorch, flying from the destroying Avars, was received with open
arms by Uttilo II., who built for him here, at the eastern end of the
city, the Nonnen-kloster of Nidernburg, A.D. 739. About one hundred
and fifty years later, the successors of this bishop modestly laid
claim to the whole city; and kept it in defiance of king and kaiser,
till the year 1802, shortly after which period it was secularized
and given to the Grand Duke of Tuscany. The bishopric of Passau,
under its ecclesiastical princes, included (besides the city of
Passau, the Inn-stadt, and the Ilz-stadt,) the castles of Marsbach
and Rana-riedl, the market-towns of Ebersberg and Ips, the towns of
Mautern, Amstetten, Greifenstein, Stockerau, St. Andre, and many other
places in Austria, nearly the whole of the present bishopric of Linz,
and a large portion of Bohemia. One of these sovereign prelates, of
the family of Hohenloe, ran the bishopric; notwithstanding its immense
revenues, into considerable debt, while, with great affectation of
piety and contempt for the pomps and vanities of this life, he caused
to be inscribed on the walls of his palace, “O Welt! O böse Welt!” (“O
world! O wicked world!”) upon which a waggish dean wrote under, as in
continuation of the sentence, “Wie übel verzehrst Du des Hochstifts
Geld!” (“How ill dost thou consume the chapter’s gold!”) At the same
time let us not forget that we are, perhaps, indebted to a Bishop of
Passau for the preservation of that most interesting, as well as most
ancient, specimen of Teutonic romance, the Nibelungen-lied. Pelegrin,
or Pilgerin, Bishop of Passau, who died in 991, collected the then
current legends of the Nibelungen, which he committed to writing in
the favourite Latin tongue, with the assistance of his scribe Conrad,
whose name has occasioned the Swabian poem to be sometimes ascribed to
Conrad of Wurtzburg, who lived long after.[27] On the 2d of August,
1552, was signed here the celebrated treaty, or pacification of Passau,
by the Archduke Ferdinand of Austria, as representative of his brother,
the Emperor Charles V., and Maurice of Saxony, in the name of the
Protestant party.

In 1610, the Emperor Rudolph raised a body of troops in the diocese
of Passau, which, on his reconciliation the same year with his
brother Matthias, he affected to disband, at the same time purposely
withholding their pay, in order to afford them a pretext for invading
Bohemia. The troops accordingly, under the command of their leader
Ramée, burst into Upper Austria, spreading themselves over the country
beyond the Danube, and after committing every species of devastation,
passed into Bohemia, where they were at last defeated near Prague,
after they had extorted three hundred thousand florins from the
Emperor[28].

On entering the city we found it was fair time, and the square before
the cathedral was filled with booths, and gay with peasantry in their
holiday dresses. Prints and pipe-heads, cotton handkerchiefs of the
most staring colours, and the splendid gold and silver caps worn by the
women of the neighbourhood, amongst which we saw, for the first time,
the magnificent and tasteful Linzer Haube, were the principal articles
for sale; but it did not appear to us that there were many purchasers.
The cathedral has nothing to boast of in the way of architecture or
painting. The present building dates from the year 1662, the former
edifice having been destroyed by fire. Not having much time to spare,
we hastened across the bridge over the Danube into the Ilz-stadt, on
the left bank, and ascended the winding staircase cut in the rock,
to the fortress of Oberhaus, the Ehrenbreitstein of Passau. It was a
broiling business, under a vertical sun, but we were told the view
from the summit would amply repay us for any fatigue we might endure
in the ascent; and breathless with expectation, as well as exertion,
we stood at length upon the brow of the mountain. But little was to be
seen from that spot, except the tops of the towers, and the houses
of Passau, and we walked on through ploughed fields, a curious sight
in such a situation, to the fortress, from the walls of which we
expected to realize our excited hopes. But though permitted to enter
the building, sentinels at each angle checked every attempt to gain a
commanding situation, with their eternal “es ist verboden;” and hot,
weary, and disappointed, we prepared to “march down again,” when a
fortunate chance led us to the wished-for spot. Whether it was not the
right one, or that our previous annoyances had rendered us captious
and discontented, I cannot pretend to say, but certainly the view,
though extraordinary enough in character, fell woefully short of our
expectations in point of extent and beauty. The Inn is seen writhing
through its mountain gorge, to join the Danube, which at this point
it much exceeds in width, and the church of Maria-hilf, on its bluff
rock above the Inn-stadt, forms a fine object in the fore-ground. But
the hills are too lofty, notwithstanding the elevation on which one is
placed, to permit the eye to follow the windings of the two rivers
to any distance, and the view from the water, at the point of their
confluence, is, in my opinion, far preferable. The old fort of Oberhaus
was built in 1219, by Bishop Ulrich, to keep the citizens of Passau
in awe[29]. Maria-hilf was once, and I believe is still, a celebrated
place of pilgrimage; and here is the miraculous image of the Virgin,
up to which the pilgrims used to crawl upon their knees. The infant
Jesus is clasped to one breast, and from the other, water flows out of
a little silver pipe, into the mouth of the pious votary. The image of
the Virgin in the church of Maria-hilf at Vienna, was made from this
model; but the Viennese have had the good taste to dispense with the
water-pipe. In 1781, a vessel, with two hundred pilgrims, was wrecked
on the Inn, and one hundred and fifty unfortunate beings perished.

Descending into the Ilz-stadt, (the suburb of Passau, on the left bank,
so called from the Ilz, that rolls its dark waves into the Danube,
beneath the fortress of Oberhaus,) we hailed a little market-boat that
was just leaving the shore, and were speedily ferried over by a stout
wench to the eastern end of Passau, where our bark lay moored while the
passports of ourselves and crew were undergoing the regular inspection,
etc. Notwithstanding it was fair time, there was little bustle either
on the banks or in the town. Commerce, which once flourished so greatly
at Passau, has of late years, from various circumstances, sadly
declined. Its sword-cutlery, celebrated as early as the thirteenth
century for the famous Wolfs-klingen (_i. e._ Wolf-blades,) was
destroyed by religious persecutions, about the close of the sixteenth,
when nearly all the workmen, two hundred of whom lived in the Inn-stadt
alone, sought refuge in Austria. At the beginning of the seventeenth
century a manufactory of striped paper was established, which supplied,
in some degree, the loss of the sword-cutlery; and Passau is still the
stapel-platz, or principal depôt for the salt of Bavaria, which is
brought down the Salza and the Inn, from the works at Hallein; but
the benefit which now accrues to the inhabitants from this privilege
is little or nothing, compared with what the salt trade produced
to them in the middle ages, when they carried it on, on their own
accounts. During the thirty years’ war, talismans were sold here, which
the venders professed would render the wearers invulnerable. A safer
speculation could scarcely have been imagined, as, until they had tried
them, no one had a right to complain of imposition, and those who did
try them and found them ineffectual, generally made the discovery too
late to expose or punish the impostor. The people of Passau and its
neighbourhood might be considered particularly good-looking, were it
not for the hideous goitre, which is exceedingly common in this part
of Germany. The appearance of this excrescence is most disgusting
to the eye of the unaccustomed traveller, but the natives take no
measures to prevent or to conceal it: and, indeed, both here, as in
some parts of Switzerland, it is considered by many a beauty, instead
of a deformity. Schultes recommends, to those who have the time to
make them, excursions to Formbach, Wernstein, and several other places
in the environs of Passau, and a ramble up the wild valley of the Ilz,
to the ruins of the old castle of Halz, the seat of an ancient family,
that, rising into fame through the deeds of Albert the Valiant, in the
time of Rudolph of Hapsburg, became extinct with the death of Count
Luitprand, in 1375. We, however, had too long a journey in perspective
to venture on including ourselves in that number, so late in the
season, and with particular objects in view; and as our steersman made
his appearance a few moments after we returned to the boat with our
papers “en régle,” we were soon in the middle of the stream again, and
rapidly bidding adieu to the Coblentz of the Danube.

The view down the two rivers, (the Inn and the Danube,) from the point
of their confluence, is, as I have already mentioned, in my opinion,
far more beautiful though not so extraordinary as that obtained from
the heights above them. Standing in the stern of the boat, and looking
back on the too rapidly disappearing scene, on our right arose the
long walls and round towers of Oberhaus, upon a range of precipices
richly hung with wood, and full four hundred fathoms high; on our left
stood the Maria-Hilf-berg, crowned with its church, and the houses of
the Inn-stadt picturesquely grouped at its foot,--in the centre, the
town of Passau, forming a salient angle upon a plane of water, nearly
two thousand feet in width, and standing like an island between two
of the noblest rivers in Germany. The time allowed us to contemplate
this lovely scene, was as brief as the enjoyment was exquisite. The
Danube, reinforced by the waves of the Inn and the Ilz, rushes, with
redoubled speed round a rocky cape, and presto! your boat is gliding
between banks so savage and solitary, that you can scarcely believe
some necromantic spell has not transported you, in the twinkling of
an eye, thousands of miles from that “peopled city,” the hum of which
still lingers in your ear. In its eccentric course, the river now forms
itself, as it were, into a chain of beautiful lakes, each apparently
shut in on all sides by precipitous hills, clothed with black firs
that grow down to the very water’s edge, while from amongst them
peeps out, here and there, one of the little Swiss-looking cottages
I have before mentioned, with perhaps a rustic bridge thrown across
a small cleft or chasm, through which a mountain rivulet falls like
a silver thread into the flood below. On doubling one of the abrupt
points which produce this lake-like appearance, we came suddenly upon
the chateau of Krempenstein, or Grampelstein, perched on a mass of
rock, jutting out from a fir-clad precipice, that rises majestically
behind it. It belonged, for nearly four hundred years, to the bishops
of Passau, who, in conformity with the general practice of the time,
levied contributions upon the passing vessels, translating the awkward
term of robbery into the more legal epithet of toll. The peasantry and
schiffers in the neighbourhood call it the Schneider-Schlossel, and
tell a story of some poor tailor who, in flinging a dead goat into
the river from the walls of the building, fell over with it and was
drowned, a circumstance which they think exceedingly comical. The age
of the building, and the terrific beauty of its situation, deserve a
more interesting tradition. On turning another sharp corner,--forgive,
gentle reader, the unnautical expression, for I know of none other
that will so well describe the acute angles that present themselves
at almost every thousand yards upon this extraordinary river,--you
perceive Bürnwang, or Birchenwang, with its mill; and in the distance,
on the left bank, the small market-town of Hafner or Oberzell. Little
would a traveller imagine, on looking at this unpretending town, that
its manufactures have been, from time immemorial, eagerly sought
throughout the civilized world--that, from the banks of the Ganges
to the Gulf of Mexico, from St. Petersburg to Peru, there are no
articles of commerce more generally circulated and esteemed, than
those which are fabricated in this sequestered nook by the hands of
a few German potters. The famous crucibles, known by the name of
Ipser or Passauer-Tiegel, are all made at Hafner-zell. About three
hundred persons are constantly employed in this manufacture; but as
the towns of Passau and Ips are of greater consequence in the map,
their names have been connected with the ware; and the goldsmith and
chemist, while reaping the benefit of its industry, are ignorant
probably of the existence of such a place as Hafner-zell. There are
also here manufactories of black-lead pencils, and a particular sort
of black earthenware, the materials for both of which are found in the
neighbourhood, which is rich in mineral and other productions, worthy
the attention of the geologist and natural historian.

Not far from Hafner-zell, on the right bank, stands the chateau of
Fichtenstein, on the summit of a stupendous hill, clothed, like the
rest of its giant brethren, with forests of pine and fir. A modern
mansion is near it; and at the foot of the hill are a few poor
cottages, with a little church, the spire of which is just visible
above the trees. Fichtenstein belonged anciently to the Counts of
Wasserburg, another race of knightly plunderers. Conrad, Count of
Wasserburg and Fichtenstein, on quitting Germany for the Holy Land,
pledged this stronghold to Ulric, Bishop of Passau, in 1218, who
advanced a considerable sum of money on the extra condition that the
castle should be forfeited entirely if the Count did not return from
Palestine. Conrad, however, did return, and, dying soon afterwards,
left his castle to his lady. Bishop Gebhard, the successor of Ulric,
immediately set up some claim to the property, and declared war against
the countess. He was defeated, however, and taken prisoner by a gallant
knight, upon which he proceeded to excommunicate the whole party. The
spiritual weapon had considerably more effect than the temporal, and
the unfortunate countess was obliged to surrender her castle to the
bishopric of Passau, A.D. 1226[30]. Further on, a rock rises out of
the middle of the river, and upon it stands a small building like a
sentry-box. It is called the Jochenstein; and from the arms of the
town of Passau and those of the empire being cut on the sides of it,
is generally considered by the Schiffers, the Gränze, or boundary
stone between Bavaria and Austria. Schultes, however, denies this, and
tells us, that the real Gränze is the old tower of Ried, upon a rock
facing Engelhard’s-zell. Be this as it may, we considered ourselves,
upon the faith of our steersman, entering the Austrian dominions as we
passed the rock; and, accordingly, drank three bumpers of excellent
Stein-wine to their imperial and royal majesties of Austria, Bavaria,
and England, with the sincere wish that no mistaken policy might
disturb the friendship so happily existing between the three nations,
or the general peace and prosperity of Europe. We soon came in sight
of Engelhard’s-zell, where the Austrian custom-house is established;
and opposite to which rises the old tower already mentioned, upon
the end of a long fir-clad hill. Nothing is known of the ancient
history of this little ruin; which, according to the peasantry of the
neighbourhood, was reduced to its present state by the Swedes. The
whole district from Marsbach to this spot is called the Riedermark,
and is supposed to have been, in the ninth century, the seat of the
Rheadarii.

                        FOOTNOTES (CHAPTER III)

[27] Vide ‘Lays of the Minnesingers, or German Troubadours.’ 12mo.
Lond. 1825, p. 113, and the Appendix to the ‘Nibelungen-lied’, called
“Die Klage,” _i. e._ the Lament.

[28] Coxe’s ‘History of the House of Austria,’ vol. ii. pp.
419, 20. I have mentioned these circumstances, as the devastations
committed by these troops, who are called by the German writers the
Passauer Volk, are still but too visible upon the banks of the Danube,
and will be alluded to hereafter.

[29] The Austrian commander Plantini was beheaded at Ingolstadt, in
1743, for delivering this fortress up to the Bavarians, without firing
a shot.

[30] Mr. Russel, in his tour in Germany, speaking of the number of
abbeys, monasteries, etc., has taken up the cause of these holy
locusts, and contends, with all that ingenuity and talent which
characterize his excellent work, that it is wrong to accuse the
princes, or pious individuals who endowed them, of having been
imprudently liberal to the church. "Thousands of acres were given,
_but they were acres of wood and water, utterly unproductive to the
public_, and which would probably have remained for centuries in
the same wild state, if they had been the property of a quarrelsome
baron, instead of belonging to _the peaceful sons of the church_.
The monks, though idle themselves, were not encouragers of idleness in
their subjects. Their leisure allowed them to instruct, and their love
of gain led them to aid, their vassals in agricultural science, rude
as it was, while, at the same time, the sacred character which they
enjoyed, placed their peasantry beyond the reach of the oppressions
practised by feudal nobles. It has long been a current proverb in
Germany, 'Man lebt gut unter dem Krummstab[_30a_].' It is true
that one is apt to feel provoked when he is told that these fruitful
vallies and the pasture hills which rise along their sides, belong to
a congregation of idle monks. But monks were the very men who made the
vallies fruitful, and the hills useful. They received them _covered
with trees_, and rocks--_no very liberal boon_[_30b_], and
it was they who planted them with corn and stored them with sheep."
This is all very true, as far as regards the benefits which mankind has
eventually received from these establishments; for we have likewise
to thank the cowl and crosier, for much if not all the valuable
information respecting the days of our fathers and "the old time before
them," which the chronicles, written and illuminated in abbey and
convent, contain. But let the praise be given to that Providence, "from
seeming evil still producing good," in whose hands these monks were the
unconscious instruments of spreading that very light and information
which it was their constant study and employment to extinguish and
contract. The hypocrisy and cupidity of these self-elected saints are
far less pardonable than the brutal ferocity of the barons, whose
pitiable ignorance and superstition; the roots of the evil, they
fostered for their own advantage. Instead of employing the influence
which their superior education and sacred character gave them over
the minds of these uncultivated men, in the truly Christian task of
curbing their passions, enlightening their understandings, and bringing
them to a sense of the folly and wickedness of their ways, they meanly
exerted it for the purposes of self-aggrandizement, utterly careless of
the pitiable state of destitution and degradation in which, by their
rapacious demands and disgusting mummeries, they were daily sinking
their poor, besotted, bigoted, but often truly noble benefactors. The
knave who swindles a silly heir out of his property may wonderfully
improve the estate and build an hospital with the money; but he is no
less a knave because the poor and the sick are eventually gainers; nor
is the folly of the unfortunate dupe an excuse, in the eye of honour
and honesty, for his crime; which is, on the contrary, aggravated by
the advantage taken of the victim's imbecility. Avarice and ambition,
however, sowed the seeds of their own destruction. The Church of Rome
might have flourished to this day, had not its grasping hand pressed so
heavily upon its subjects, as at length to rouse them from their trance
and open their eyes, not so much to its errors as to its wealth. Truly
does Schiller remark, that "Had it not been closely backed with private
advantages, and state interests, the arguments of theologians, and the
voice of the people, would never have met with princes so willing to
espouse their cause, nor the new doctrines have found so numerous, so
brave, and so obstinate champions!"... "The desire of independence, the
rich plunder of monastic institutions, gave charms to the Reformation
in the eyes of princes, and strengthened not a little their inward
conviction of its necessity."... "Without the imposition of the tenth
and twentieth pennies, the See of Rome had never lost the United
Netherlands." The question, "Why the Pope, who is richer than several
Crœsus's, cannot build the Church of Saint Peter with his own money,
but does it at the expense of the poor?" was more staggering than that
of his infallibility. The _sale_ of indulgences first induced men
to inquire into the power of the Church to _grant_ them. The heavy
coffers of the abbots, and the glittering ornaments of their shrines
and altars drew the swords of such adventurers as Christian, Duke of
Brunswick, who issued a coinage composed of church-plate, and bearing
the motto--"A friend to God and an enemy to the priesthood." "Woe unto
them," says the inspired Isaiah, "_that join house to house, that lay
field to field, till there be no place, that they may be placed alone
in the midst of the earth_.

"_Which justify the wicked for reward_, and take away the
righteousness of the righteous from him.

"_Therefore is the anger of the Lord kindled against his people, and
he stretched forth his hand against them, and hath smitten them_,
and the hills did tremble, and _their carcases were torn in the midst
of the streets_. For all this his anger is not turned away, _but
his hand is stretched out still_."

Such were the crimes of the Church of Rome; such has been its
punishment, and "His anger," indeed, "is not turned away"--"His hand is
stretched out still." Who can look upon its fallen state, and listen
to the cry of its unfortunate remnant, without exclaiming in the words
of Jeremiah, "How is she become as a widow; she that was great among
the nations, and princess among the provinces! How is she become
tributary!"

  [30a] “One lived well under the crosier.”

  [30b] _No very liberal boon, Mr. Russel!_ What! In a country where
  wood is to this day the staple commodity? where the greater part of
  the revenue of many of the nobles, and the entire incomes of thousands
  of the peasantry, are derived from the sale of the trees with which
  nature has so lavishly clothed the land? from the produce of those
  very   “acres of wood,” which you, from some strange slip of memory,
  describe as “utterly unproductive to the public.” The “_peaceful sons
  of the church_,” amongst whom, of course, you number the warlike
  bishops of Passau, Strasburgh, Bamberg, Freysingen, Ratisbon, et hoc
  genus omne, knew uncommonly well the value of those _unproductive_
  acres.




                               AUSTRIA.

                              CHAPTER IV.

 Engelhard’s-zell--Rana-riedl--Marsbach--Wesen
 Urfar--Waldkirche--Hayenbach--The Schlägen--The Rhine and the
 Danube contrasted--Ober Michl--Neuhaus--Aschach--The paper-money of
 Austria--Castle of Schaumberg--Environs of Aschach--Ober Walsee--Story
 of Hans von Eschelberg--Sketch of the Insurrections in the seventeenth
 Century.


No sooner had our boat touched the land, beside the little white-washed
custom-house at Englehard’s-zell, than it was surrounded by a swarm of
officials, one of whom, in the uniform of the Austrian police, which
is, I believe, the same as that of the customs, viz. grey with green
facings, etc., desired us to land; and, at the same time, we were
hailed from the shore by a gentlemanlike personage, in plain clothes
and a foraging cap, with “Messieurs, parlez-vous Français?” On our
answer in the affirmative, he requested us to follow him into his
bureau. Having inspected our passports, he asked us if we had anything
to declare: I replied, not to our knowledge. Had we any snuff or
tobacco? Neither of us smoked or took snuff. Had we any almanacks, or
sealed letters? No. Had we any wine, or beer? “Monsieur, nous avons
fini tout ça en buvant à la santé de sa Majesté l’Empereur.” (Off went
his cap; the Austrians never mention, or hear mentioned the title
of their sovereign without uncovering.) Bread, butter, etc.? We had
finished that too, and would be obliged to him if he would inform us
where we could get some more. The catechism ended, he returned us our
passports properly countersigned, and we concluded that we should be
spared the trouble of unpacking. But, upon returning to the bank, we
found our portmanteaus and sacs-denuit, with the bundles and knapsacks
of our crew, spread out in awful array along a bench, in front of
the Wirths-haus or inn, facing the landing-place. Our friend soon
reappeared, and the portmanteaus, etc. being opened, he inspected their
contents very closely; but with none of the rudeness which generally
characterizes persons in his situation. He looked very suspiciously
at our little travelling library, and examined the title-page of
nearly every book; my papers and drawings were also glanced at, but
no questions were asked. He seemed amazingly pleased with our English
dressing-cases, upon the razors in which, particularly, he looked with
a covetous eye. “Ah! messieurs, vous avezlà des jolies choses!” and,
courteously bowing, he wished us a pleasant journey, and retired.

Having replenished our basket of provisions, and re-embarked our
baggage, we bade adieu to Engelhardszell. Its environs are very
beautiful, and there was formerly here a Cistertian monastery, to which
its inhabitants gave the name of Angelorum Cella, from whence probably
its present appellation. This monastery was founded A.D. 1293, by the
wealthy and powerful House of Schaumberg. In 1571, the whole community
died of the plague, and the building remained uninhabited nearly one
hundred years. Shortly after its re-establishment, it suffered from a
fire that broke out in the kitchen, and was rebuilt at the beginning
of the seventeenth century. The old Pfarr-kirche, or parish church,
was built as early as 1230. In 1551, another church was erected for the
same purpose, apparently, as that to which the Maltheser-kirche was
formerly applied in Ratisbon. The horses were here brought annually
to the door of the church, and allowed a peep at Saint Pancras, whose
effigy graced the altar. This sight, and a few oats at the same time
administered, were supposed to preserve them from all disorders for
a twelvemonth. Napoleon gave Engelhardszell to the Prince of Wrede,
who still possesses the domain, and hunts here occasionally. In 1626,
the revolted peasantry cast chains and ropes across the Danube here,
to prevent the Bavarians from assisting Herberstorf at Linz. In 1703,
the Bavarians built here a small flotilla, with floating batteries,
and threw a bridge of boats across the river to facilitate their
communication with Bohemia.

On the left bank, before we had entirely lost sight of Engelhardszell,
the chateau of Rana-riedl appeared in the distance, on the ridge of
a lofty mountain, its white and peaked turrets beautifully backed by
the deep blue sky. Beside the hill is a ravine, through which the
Rana-bach brawls into the Danube, turning a mill, and bringing down
firewood from the mountain forests of Bohemia. The name of this chateau
first appears in some deeds of the fourteenth century, towards the
close of which it belonged to a lady of the Rana family, who married a
knight, named Stephen von Schweinbach. Shortly afterwards, it became
the property of the grasping Bishops of Passau. Göllinger, Governor of
Scharding, besieged it in 1486, in the name of the Duke of Bavaria, but
was compelled to raise the siege by Hans Oberhaimer, the lord of the
neighbouring Castle of Falkenstein, who reinforced the garrison. Two
years afterwards, he returned and assaulted it with success. It was
recovered by the Bishopric in 1490, and lost to it entirely in 1501,
when it was taken by the Emperor Maximilian I., and pledged by him to
Henry von Preuschenk. Rudolph II. gave it to the Lords of Salburg in
1591; at the extinction of which family, it became the property of the
Counts of Clam, A.D. 1728. The villages of Ober-Rana and Nieder-Rana
lie one on each side of the Danube, a little below this spot; and
the river then making a sudden bend to the north, you come in sight
of the Castle of Marsbach, similarly situated to Rana-riedl. Otto of
Marsbach, in 1268, dispossessed, by force of arms, his father Ortulph,
of this castle, and declared war against the Bishop of Passau. Ortulph
bought it from his unnatural son, at the heavy price of four hundred
talents, which so reduced his finances that he was compelled to give
up the castle after all to Passau, in order to relieve himself from
his difficulties. In 1486, it came into the hands of the Lords of
Oberhaimer, who carried on a desperate system of plunder against all
unfortunate travellers, whether by land or by water. One of these
Oberhaimers attacked the boat of a counsellor of Steyer, Valentine
Rottenburgher, and carried off booty to the amount of seven hundred
florins, a considerable sum in those days. In 1610, the castle was
surprised by the Passauer-volk under Ramée; and, in 1626, Spatt, the
famous peasant chief, attacked it suddenly, and put the garrison to
the sword. Opposite to Marsbach, on the right bank, is Wesen, or
Wesen-Urfar, with its ferry. The family of Wesen became extinct in
1230, by the death of Erchinger von Wesen, who was captain-general of
the province of Enns, and lies buried at Engelhardszell. There is a
famous cellar here, hewn in the rock, by command of the chapter of the
cathedral of Passau, in which, it is said, you can turn a coach and
four. In 1626, Adolph, Duke of Holstein-Gottorp, hastening with several
thousand men to the relief of Herberstorf, landed unfortunately near
this celebrated cellar. The temptation, I suppose, was too great for
poor human nature; and the armed peasantry, descending from the hills
before day-break, fell on the fuddled Swabians, as they lay “somno
vinoque sepulti,” and slaughtered the greater part of them. The Duke
himself narrowly escaped in his doublet, and with the loss of all his
property. On the same bank, but on the ridge of the mountain, and half
hidden by the dark firs that surround it, stands Waldkirche, with its
crumbling ruins, which some call the Castle of Waldeck, and others the
fortress of Wesen. The indefatigable Schultes has been able to gain
no information respecting it, except that it was bought some time ago
by a farmer from the Prince of Wrede, most likely with the view of
demolishing it, and building new huts with the old materials.

Nearly facing Waldkirche rises the ruin of Hayenbach, or Kirchbaum, as
it is called by the schiffers, upon the ridge of the long, lofty, and
nearly perpendicular mountain, which terminates the chain on this side
the valley, and forms a promontory, round which the river, suddenly
and rapidly wheeling, completely doubles itself, and enters a narrow
defile, the romantic, and I may say awful, beauty of which surpasses
all description. So acute is the angle here made by the Danube, that
the ruin of Hayenbach, though consisting of only one quadrangular and
not very lofty tower, now presents its northern side to the eye in
apparently the same situation that it did its southern side scarcely
ten minutes before. Enormous crags, piled one upon the other, to the
height of from three to four hundred fathoms; their weather-blanched
pinnacles starting up amongst the black firs and tangled shrubs, that
struggle to clothe each rugged pyramid from its base to its apex, form
the entrance to this grand and gloomy gorge through which the mighty
stream now boils and hurries, winding and writhing, till at length
you become so utterly bewildered, that nothing but a compass can give
you the slightest idea of the direction of its course. The Castle of
Hayenbach, which seems to guard this extraordinary pass, belonged, in
the fifteenth century, to the Oberhaimers, the Lords of Falkenstein
and Marsbach, of whom I have already spoken, and who, no doubt, found
it admirably situated for the prosecution of that predatory warfare
in which they “lived, moved, and had their being.” Falkenstein, with
which this Castle of Hayenbach, or Kirchbaum, is confounded, lies above
Rana, and is not visible from the Danube, and the same vague tradition
is attached to each ruin; namely, that it was originally built by
a knight of the thirteenth century, who, having slain his brother,
passed the rest of his days with an only daughter in that castellated
hermitage[31].

For upwards of an hour we glided through scenes increasing in
sublimity, and calling forth exclamations of wonder and delight, till
my companion and I mutually confessed that we had exhausted our stock
of epithets, and stood gazing in far more expressive silence on the
stupendous precipices which towered above us, almost to the exclusion
of daylight, their jagged sides

              “Horrid with fern, and intricate with thorn;”

and on the rapid stream that, like Milton’s Fiend,

              “... Through the palpable obscure toiled out
              His uncouth passage ...
              ... plunged in the womb
              Of unoriginal night and chaos wild.”

The pencil of a Salvator Rosa could alone do justice to these wondrous
scenes. The grandest views upon the Rhine sink into insignificance,
when compared with the magnificent pictures which the Danube here
presents us at every turn. The two rivers would have admirably
illustrated Burke’s ‘Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful.’ Nature has
contrasted them precisely according to the rules he has laid down in
the twenty-seventh section of his Third Part. “Sublime objects,” says
he, “are _vast in their dimensions_, beautiful ones _comparatively
small_: beauty should be _smooth and polished_; the great, _rugged and
negligent_: beauty should _shun the right line_, yet _deviate from it
insensibly_; the great, in many cases, _loves the right line_, and,
when it deviates, it often makes _a strong deviation_: beauty should
_not be obscure_; the great ought to _be dark and gloomy_: beauty
should be _light and delicate_; the great ought to be _solid, and even
massive_.” The substitution of the words “Rhine” for “Beauty,” and of
“Danube” for “great,” is nearly all that is necessary to change his
general comparison into individual portraits of these rival floods, if
rivalry may be said to exist between two opposite species of perfection.

The ruins on the banks of the Rhine, thickly interspersed as they are
with smiling villages, busy towns, and sunny vineyards, swarming with
holiday tourists, and echoing to the whips of Prussian postilions, and
the rattle of Prussian schnel-wagens, are more like modern antiques
erected on the confines of some gentleman’s park, than the bona fide
relics of that truly iron age, “the days of the shield and the spear.”
From Mayence to Cologne there is scarcely one mile of uninterrupted
wild scenery; and even if there were, the charm would be broken by
some pert galley, with its white awning and gaudy flag, some lumbering
Dutch beurtschiff, or, worse than all, the monstrous anachronism of
a steam-boat, splashing, sputtering, and fuming along at the rate
of twelve miles an hour. The mouldering towers that totter upon the
crags of the Danube, on the contrary, are surrounded by scenery rude
as the times in which they were reared, and savage as the warriors
who dwelt in them. Nothing seems changed but themselves. The solitary
boat that now and then glides by them, is of the same fashion as that
on which their marauding masters sallied down, perhaps, three hundred
years ago. The humble cottages that here and there peep through the
eternal firs, and the church that rears its dusky spire upon some
neighbouring hill, are of the same age. The costume of the poor
straggling fishermen and woodcutters around them is scarcely altered;
and, indeed, one cannot look upon their own walls, blackened by fire,
and crumbling in the blast, as they mostly are, without conjuring up
the form of their ancient lord newly returned from Palestine, and
finding his mountain-fastness burnt and pillaged by some neighbouring
knight or prelate, with whom he was at feud, and on whom he now
stands meditating swift and bloody retribution. For hours and hours
the traveller may wind through these rocky defiles without meeting
one object to scare the spirit of romance, which rises here in all
her gloomy grandeur before him. From Passau to Vienna there is but
one city, Linz, where the glare of modern uniforms, and the rumbling
of modern vehicles, would dissipate the spell; and, much as I admire
convenient and expeditious travelling, I should almost weep to see a
bustling post-road cut beside the lonely Schlägen[32], or a steam-boat
floundering and smoking through the Strudel and the Wirpel[33].

At the mouth of a small opening on the left bank, through which the
Kleine-Michl ripples into the Danube, stands Ober-Michl, the only
village of any consequence in this wilderness. In 1809, the Bohemian
landwehr, under Colonel Hartman, took many of the French boats laden
with provisions, near the spot. The Bavarian flotilla, under cover
of the night and by dropping silently down the stream, escaped their
notice. After passing two or three small groups of huts, another whirl
of the river to the north-east brought us in front of the remarkable
chateau of Neuhaus. Ranged along the brow of a perpendicular rock that
seems to bar your further progress, stand three distinct buildings,
(at least so they appear from the river,) giving you more the idea of
a town than a castle. Far beneath them, but still at a considerable
height from the water, upon a ledge of the rock, is perched a
quadrangular ruin, the Toll-tower, no doubt, where the retainers of
the Counts of Schaumberg, to whom Neuhaus belonged in the fourteenth
century, were stationed to exact the tribute from the trembling
schiffers.

In one of the many quarrels between the Counts of Schaumberg and the
Duke of Austria, Neuhaus fell into the possession of the latter, but
it was subsequently recovered, and many of the first nobles of Upper
Austria were Castellans of Neuhaus for the House of Schaumberg. In 1510
it was annexed to the empire by Maximilian I., and pledged, in 1536,
by Ferdinand I., for eight thousand silver pfennings, to the Baron of
Springenstein, to whose heir it was afterwards presented as a free
gift by Rudolph II. When the Turks, during the reign of the Emperor
Charles V. burst into Hungary, and threatened Austria with invasion,
Neuhaus was the asylum to which the women and children flew from all
quarters. In the war between Rudolph II. and his brother Matthias,
the troops raised by the former at Passau threw two chains across the
Danube at this spot, one of which was forged at Steyer, and the other
brought from Vienna, weighing not less than nine hundred pounds, and
secured them with eight anchors, and a guard of armed boats. During
the insurrections in 1626 also, the same measures were taken by the
peasants, who ill treated the Countess of Springenstein, and made her
a prisoner in her own castle. Neuhaus is at present, I believe, the
property of the Prince of Thurm and Taxis.

It is only on arriving at the very foot of the rocky wall, which
forms an impenetrable barrier to the further progress of the Danube
northward, that you perceive the outlet from this valley of precipices.
A beautiful lake opens to the right near the point where the Grosse
Michl disembogues itself from a woody ravine; and the mountain chain
gradually sinking on each side, the river widens and widens till the
passenger would almost fancy it had completed its seaward course, and
that he was entering upon the broad and fathomless ocean. From the time
we had entered the gorge at Hayenbach to the period of our passing
Neuhaus, a passage of at least two hours, we had never caught even a
momentary glimpse of the sun. He now burst upon us in all the glory
of his setting, and we seemed absolutely to breathe more freely as we
emerged from between the stupendous galleries of granite and pine,
which had imprisoned us nearly all the way from Passau. The mists of
evening were fast settling upon bank and stream, as the lights of
Aschach began to twinkle in the distance; and before we could reach the
village on the opposite bank, where it was our steersman’s intention
we should sleep, it was quite dark. On going ashore, we found the
little inn, or rather public-house of the place, completely occupied
by the passengers and crew of the regular boat, that left Ratisbon the
morning before we did, and which our night’s voyage from Straubing
to Vilshofen had enabled us to overtake. On crossing the threshold,
however, of the dirty vault that “served it for parlour and kitchen and
all,” we blessed our stars that there was no room for us; and feeling
our way out again, for the clouds of smoke that rose around rendered it
impossible for us to rely solely on our visual faculties, we intimated
our intention of crossing the river to Aschach, where indeed we ought
to have been originally landed; but our pilot was either afraid
of the sandbank in front of it after nightfall, or there was some
understanding between him and the master of the public-house on the
left bank, postillions and boatmen generally getting their own board
and lodging gratis as a reward for bringing “grist to the mill,” enough
being invariably ground out of the said grist to indemnify the miller
for any liberality he may have been guilty of towards the bearer. A
lad soon made his appearance with a small boat, into which we jumped
with our portmanteaus, and were ferried over to the end of a jetty,
that has been thrown out from the bank, in consequence of the sand
deposited by the river, which has within the last few years receded
considerably from the town. Here we found tolerable accommodation, and
I lost no time in atoning to the drowsy god for the hours of which I
had defrauded him, the previous night, upon the water.

Aschach was a place of some importance, as early as the times of
Charlemagne. Thassilo, Duke of Bavaria, gave in the year 772, some
vineyards at Aschach to the monks of Krems-Münster. In the eleventh
century the knights of Aschach begin to be celebrated. The Counts of
Schaumberg possessed it during the middle ages, from whom it passed
to the Lords of Jörger. At present, as well as the lordship of Stauf,
it belongs to the Counts of Harrach. The history of this little
market-town, for nearly the two last centuries, is one uninterrupted
series of misfortunes. In 1626 it was not only taken and plundered by
the revolted peasantry, but was for some time their head quarters.
They endeavoured to chain up the Danube at this place, and obliged
the town of Steyer, which they had taken at their first rising,
to furnish them with a chain one hundred fathoms long, every link
weighing twenty pounds. Besides this chain, they threw across three
other, and a couple of stout ropes, trusting thereby to intercept
the provisions and reinforcements for the relief of Herberstorf’s
troops at Linz. But the Bavarian boats broke through this barrier, as
they had already done through a similar one at Engelhards-zell. In
the second insurrection, in 1632, the rebels surprised and plundered
Aschach again, and remained there till Colonel Traun burnt their
camp at Landshaag and dispersed them. In the contest with Bavaria,
in 1809, Aschach suffered considerably both from friend and foe; and
the removal of the custom-house back to Engelhards-zell in 1819, from
whence it had been brought at the commencement of the present century,
was a severe blow to the trade, which had begun to recompense the
inhabitants for their losses during the war. The extensive sandbank
which is yearly increasing before it, is an additional obstacle to its
commerce, and Schultes indulges in melancholy predictions respecting
the ultimate fate of this unfortunate little town. The wine made in its
neighbourhood, is remarkable only for its badness, and is the standing
joke of the inhabitants themselves; we must suppose, therefore, that
it has either sadly degenerated since Thassilo made the vineyards a
present to his friends at Krems-Münster, or that the fraternity were in
want of an immediate supply of vinegar. Aschach is the most northerly
point, on the Austrian Danube, where grapes are cultivated for that
purpose. But there is another piece of information respecting this
place, which is of more consequence than any I have yet mentioned, to
the modern traveller. The paper money (papier-geld) of Austria here
first comes into play, and the unapprised foreigner is astonished at
being apparently charged for his bed, supper, breakfast, or what not,
about four times as much as he has been in the habit of paying since he
entered the country of florins and kreutzers.

The gold ducat also, which has passed throughout Bavaria for 4 _fl._ 54
_k._, and even 5 _fl._ in some places, here falls to its regular value
of 4-1/2 florins only; and this sudden change is exceedingly perplexing
to the stranger who has but just become acquainted with the Bavarian
standard, in time to find it of no use to him.[34]

At day-break, after a hasty cup of coffee, we re-trod the jetty, and
found the boat waiting to take us over to our weitz-zille, which lay
moored besides the smoky wirtshaus before mentioned. We were soon
aboard and afloat again, and gliding by the mouth of the little river
Aschach that joins the Danube close below the town. By its side, on
a small hill, stand the scarcely visible remains of the castle of
Stauf, once the property, as indeed was, at that time, the whole
surrounding country, of the mighty Counts of Schaumberg, who have been
already so often mentioned; and, as the sun rose, his earliest beams
fell upon the splendid ruins of the cradle of that great and ancient
family--the once strong and beautiful castle of Schaumberg--still
beautiful in decay,--on a gentle acclivity, and backed by the finely
wooded mountains, on whose precipitous sides we had the previous day
gazed so long with mingled awe and admiration. Nor were its picturesque
white towers the only objects of attraction in the magnificent scene
which gradually expanded upon our sight, as the morning mist rose like
a curtain from before it. The broad river lay gleaming like a sheet
of burnished gold beneath us; before us a number of richly wooded
islands divided the glittering stream into twenty different channels
to the right and left. Looking westward, the mountains of Bavaria and
Bohemia stretched out their giant arms, as in despair at the escape
of the flood they had so long held in thrall. At the mouth of the
defile from which we had issued, stood the little town of Aschach.
Still more to the south, the ruined castles of Stauf and Schaumberg,
and, far away in the south-east, but clearly defined against the blue
horizon, towered the Alps and Glaciers of the Steyer-Mark, their snowy
and fantastic peaks alternately tinted with pink and purple, and gold,
by the changeful glories of sunrise. It was, indeed, a most exquisite
panorama, and fully justifies the heroics of Professor Schultes,
though, in his enthusiastic admiration of the Danube, he is unjust to
the really beautiful Rhine. “An Englishman,” says he, “who had often
made the voyage of the Danube, and also that of the Rhine, from Mainz
to Utrecht, in search of the picturesque, showed me his journal of the
Rhine voyage. It contained only two words, ‘Toujours perdrix[35].’”
But to return to the Castle of Schaumberg. The picturesque ruins which
formed so fine a feature in the prospect before us, were, as I have
already said, the cradle and principal seat of the once terrible Counts
of that name. In the twelfth century, their signatures appear to many
deeds, spelt indifferently Schoumbergh, Schowenberch, and Schawenberch.
As late as 1548, the Schaumbergs were free counts of the empire, and
their names are entered in the Reichs-Matrikel, (the roll or register
of the empire,) as bound to furnish six horse and twenty-six foot men
at arms,--a slender contingent for a family that could, by lifting a
finger, have brought thousands into the field. Their domains extended
from the Bavarian frontier, beyond Linz, and included the market
towns and castles of Baierbach, Stauf, Aschach, Efferding, Neuhaus,
Flayenbach, Ober and Unter Wesen, Fichtenstein, Weidenholz, Mistelbach,
nearly the whole of the Donau-Thal, from Passau to Schaumberg, and
farther inland, in the old Traun-gau, Kammer upon the Attersee,
Frankenberg, Wildeneck, etc. etc. Wilhelm, son of Wernhard, Count of
Julbach, a descendant of one of the thirty-two children of Babo of
Abensberg, was the first lord of the castle who assumed the name of
Schaumberg, A. D. 1161. His successor, forming alliances with the
families of the Landgraves of Leuchtenberg, the Burggraves of Nürnberg,
and the Dukes of Austria, became gradually more and more powerful,
exacted heavy tolls on the Danube, at Neuhaus and Aschach, plundered
travellers, took their less powerful neighbours prisoners, for the
sake of extorting ransom, or compelling them to join their league,
and, in short, were worthy supporters of the famous “faust-recht” of
Germany.[36]

Sometimes, a twinge of conscience made them endeavour to propitiate
heaven, by letting its servants share a little in the plunder; and,
with this view, they founded, in 1325, the Kloster of Saint Niklas by
Passau, and, in 1323, the Convent at Baumgartenberg; and by degrees
permitted the boats, etc. appertaining to most of the surrounding
monasteries and convents, to pass Aschach toll free.

Notwithstanding their alliance by marriage, terrible feuds were
continually springing up betwixt the Counts of Schaumberg and the Dukes
of Austria; and the assistance which Henry of Schaumberg, in 1319, gave
to Frederick the Handsome, against Louis the Bavarian, is almost a
solitary instance of the families siding together in warfare. So much
were their valour and influence dreaded by the principal potentates
of Germany, that Albert II., Duke of Austria, surnamed the Lame, and
Louis the Bavarian, entered into a solemn contract at Passau in 1340,
by which they bound themselves never to make offensive or defensive
league with the Counts of Schaumberg.

In 1366, Albert III.[37], having made war upon Henry Count of
Schaumberg, the latter appealed to the Emperor Charles IV., who
appointed the Burggraves of Nürnberg and Magdeburg umpires between the
parties. The Burggraves decided in favour of Albert, and the Count
of Schaumberg and his descendants were declared subjects of Austria,
and the castles of Kammer, Neuhaus, and Fichtenstein forfeited to the
duchy, besides the immense sum, for that period, of twelve thousand
florins. Henry, enraged at this heavy sentence, took the first
opportunity of renewing the war with Albert, who in 1379 in person
besieged the castle of Schaumberg; and the contest was carried on with
great fury and bitterness, till Stephen, Duke of Bavaria, reconciled
the parties and induced Count Henry to hold the castles of Neuhaus and
Stauf, and the market town of Efferding, as fiefs of Austria. This
peace, however, was, as might have been expected, of no long duration.
The Counts again declared themselves independent, and the struggle
continued with alternate success, till the church stept in out of pure
charity, scandalized to see such a waste of treasure, and like the
lawyer in the old story, settled the matter by swallowing the oyster
and leaving the shells to the disputants. One by one the contested
estates became the property of this and that kloster, till at length,
in 1548, the family of Schaumberg became so straitened for means,
that it could no longer defend the little that was left of its once
immense dominions, and acknowledging the feudal sovereignty of Austria,
became extinct in 1559 by the death of Count Wolfgang.--The castle
of Schaumberg at present belongs to the Prince of Starrhemberg, an
ancestor of whose family married one of the last female descendants of
the line of Schaumberg. There is a tradition that the Danube originally
ran beneath its walls, but there appears no foundation for such a
belief. The chapel and two watch-towers are still tolerably perfect:
on the walls of the former there are said to exist some paintings of
the fourteenth century; I regret exceedingly that my ignorance of the
fact, when I was in the vicinity, prevented my inspecting them. If they
really be of the date assigned to them, and in tolerable preservation,
they would be worth a pilgrimage.

A stone pillar near a brook, in the valley before the castle, is said
to record the fate of a Count of Schaumberg, who, though invincible in
battle or tournament, could not resist the charms of a fair maiden,
“armed at both eyes,” the daughter of a miller, in the valley of
Aschach. One night as he was riding to a rendezvous, his horse started
(as well he might) at the sudden appearance of a fiery dragon that
rushed out of a thicket before him, became unmanageable, plunged at
last with his master over a precipice into the swollen torrent below;
and the first object that met the unfortunate maiden’s sight when she
opened her casement in the morning, was the floating corses of her
noble lover and his favourite steed.

Nearly facing Aschach, on the left bank, is the poor little market-town
of Landshaag, formerly belonging to the convent of Niedernburg at
Passau, but now, of course, to Austria. This little place suffered
terribly during the insurrections of 1626 and 1632, from the rebels,
who in the latter year had their camp in its neighbourhood.

About half an hour’s walk to the eastward of this little town stands,
on the top of one of the Klausberge, in a forest of fruit-trees,
the ruin of Ober-Walsee. A castle was originally built here by the
Schaumbergs, but it was most probably destroyed by the celebrated
Ulrich of Walsee, governor of Styria, who suppressed the rebellion
which had broken out in these districts during the absence of Frederick
the handsome, Duke of Austria, in 1309, and repelled Otto Duke of
Bavaria, who attempting to profit by the intestine commotion, had
invaded Frederick’s dominions; Ulrich, before Frederick could hasten to
his assistance, had already subdued the refractory, and ravaged their
property with fire and sword. In return for this and other services
rendered to the Dukes of Austria by the family of Walsee, Rodolph IV.
gave permission to Eberhard von Walsee, in 1364, to build a strong
fortress on the Klausberge, a permission which, while it had the
appearance of a favour conferred upon the Lords of Walsee, furthered
the views of the Duke, inasmuch as it placed a strong curb upon the
neighbouring Counts of Schaumberg, the implacable enemies of the House
of Hapsburg. The descendants of Eberhard possessed this castle, which
received the name of Ober-Walsee, till the extinction of the male
branch in 1485, when the last female of the family, Barbara of Walsee,
in obedience to that power

                “Qui tient sous son empire
                Le genre humain les ânes et les Dieux,”

gave her hand to Count Siegmund of Schaumberg, one of the sworn foes
of her own house as well as that of Austria, and added both Ober and
Nieder-Walsee, a castle lower down on the Danube, to the possessions of
the Schaumbergs. In 1559 the family of Schaumberg became also extinct;
and Ober-Walsee, after passing through several hands, descended to the
Princes of Staremberg, who were also Lords of the neighbouring castle
and domain of Eschelberg.

Respecting one Hans of Eschelberg, Schultes has a rigmarole story,
which (unless he be jesting, and there is nothing to lead one to such
a conclusion) proves him, however well acquainted with the history of
his own country, unaccountably deficient in information regarding that
of others. This said Hans, who commenced his military career under
Louis the Bavarian, at the siege of Lindau, and received the honour
of knighthood from that Emperor, for his valiant exploits therein,
followed John, King of Bohemia, into Poland, and shared in the victory
of that monarch at Cracow; not finding himself sufficiently recompensed
for his services, accepted an invitation from Edward III. of England,
who was then besieging Calais, and assisted him in the reduction of
that place. So far so good; but not contented with claiming these
probable services for his hero, Herr Schultes, upon the strength of a
fragment of an old ballad, quoted by Hoheneck, makes him the bearer of
the English standard at the battle of Cressy, where, “mirabile dictu,”
he took the French king prisoner with his own hand (at Cressy!), while
his knightly companions slew John, King of Bohemia, and Peter, King
of Navarre! At a feast given on the field, in honour of the victory,
Edward III. paid Sir Hans of Eschelberg the distinguished compliment
of seating him between himself and the captive king, presented him
with one hundred marks of silver, etc. etc. He afterwards returned to
Germany, beat the Bohemians, became the champion of dukes, princes,
and bishops; flew back to his old friend Edward, when again investing
Calais, who rewarded him with more money and honours; returned again
to his native land, and, after thirty years of battle and victory
in all parts of Europe, died captain of the lands upon the Ens. The
Professor seems quite heart-broken that this doughty warrior has never
been mentioned by any historian, and perfectly unconscious of the way
in which the author of the old ballad, with the license or ignorance
of most of the romantic writers of the middle ages, has mixed up the
two perfectly distinct battles of Cressy and Poictiers, confounding
incidents, leaders, and periods, with the utmost sang froid and
complacency.

The banks of the Danube, from Aschach to Linz, witnessed the greater
part of those bloody struggles between the two principal sects of a
religion revealed for the beneficent purpose of promoting “peace on
earth, good will towards men,” which convulsed the provinces of Upper
Austria during the seventeenth century; and as the actors in them have
already been mentioned more than once, and will be frequently named
hereafter, I shall venture to give, in as few words as possible, a
sketch of the insurrections of 1626 and 1632, particularly as they have
been merely alluded to by Schiller, in his history of the thirty years’
war, and Coxe, in his history of the House of Austria, the two most
elaborate works upon that period familiar to the English reader,--the
deeds of a Gustavus, a Wallenstein, and a Tilly, having naturally
occupied their attention, to the exclusion of all less generally
important circumstances.

The object which Ferdinand II., Emperor of Germany, had most at heart,
from worldly as well as spiritual motives, was the extirpation of the
reformed religion. The battle of Prague had no sooner decided the fate
of Bohemia, than he tore, with his own hand, the memorable letter
of majesty extorted from Rudolph II. by the states of the kingdom,
in favour of the Protestants, and burnt the seal; and proceeded not
only to the revocation of the privileges granted to them by his
predecessors, which he had _not_ confirmed, but even of those which
had received his own unqualified approbation. He intimated to all the
Protestants in his dominions, that they must either abandon their
religion or their native country,--a bitter and terrible choice, which
excited the most violent commotions amongst his Austrian subjects,
and particularly in the district above the Ens. Upper Austria had
been, for some time, held in pledge by the Elector of Bavaria, for the
indemnification promised him by the Emperor for his assistance against
the Evangelic Union; and Count Adam von Herberstorf, who commanded the
Bavarian troops at Linz, had been guilty of unnecessary severities
towards its unfortunate inhabitants. On the 17th of May, 1626, the
flame, which had been long smothering, burst into a sudden and terrible
blaze, in consequence of some excesses committed by a straggling party
of Herberstorf’s soldiery. The Protestant peasantry flew to arms, and,
in two days, took and plundered the towns of Aschach, Grieskirchen,
and Baierbach, and the strong fortress of Velden. On the 20th of May,
Herberstorf marched against the rebels at Baierbach, with twelve
hundred men and some artillery, but was repulsed with great loss; and,
after having two horses killed under him, retreated in confusion to
Linz. The peasantry were now headed by one Stephen Fadinger, a hatter;
and, in about ten days from their first rising, mustered full seventy
thousand men, and possessed a park of thirty cannon. Within the first
eight days, Fadinger had made himself master of Wels, Kremsmünster,
Vöglabruch, and Gmünden, and in six more, with the exceptions of
Freystadt, Ens, and Linz, the whole of Upper Austria was overrun, and
subdued by the insurgents. Flushed with victory, Fadinger invested
Linz on the 25th of June, and would most probably have succeeded in
reducing it, had he not received a shot in the thigh from one of
Herberstorf’s musqueteers, in violation of a short armistice agreed
upon between the leaders, June 28th, of which wound he died in the
beginning of the following month[38]. His successor, Achaz Willinger
von Katterhof, a nobleman, had neither his talent nor his good fortune.
Steyer and Freystadt, which had fallen just before Fadinger’s death,
were retaken, fifteen hundred soldiers dispersed twelve thousand
peasants, in the neighbourhood of Ens; and, in two assaults upon Linz,
the Protestants were repulsed with terrible slaughter. The Austrian
commissioner had nearly succeeded in his charitable endeavours to
restore peace, when some fresh cruelty of Herberstorf’s, or the
soldiers under his command, kindled anew the torch of discord, and, by
another change of fortune, the peasantry cut to pieces the troops of
the Duke of Holstein-Gotton, at Wesen-Urfar, and successively defeated
the Bavarian general Lindlo, at Geyersberg, Count Preuner, at Haslach,
Herberstorf, near Gmünden, and even the valiant Löbel, at Wels. The
celebrated Pappenheim, however, whose mother Count Herberstorf had
married, retrieved the fortunes of his party, by beating the rebels
in three following battles at Efferding, Gmünden, and Vöglabruch, but
not without considerable difficulty, as he himself acknowledges in
a letter to Herberstorf. “It was,” he writes, “as if my cavalry had
to combat the massive rocks; for these peasants fought not like men,
but like infernal furies!” These reverses decided the fate of the
insurgents; and, though the Imperial commissioner himself declared that
the peasantry had not risen with treasonable intentions against the
Emperor, but were goaded into the act by the severity of Herberstorf,
nearly the whole of the prisoners were hung and quartered, or impaled.
Achaz Willinger, as he was a nobleman, was beheaded, and his body
delivered to the Jesuits, who had not been the least important actors
in this terrible tragedy.

Six years had not elapsed before the continued persecution they
experienced, stirred up the Protestants again to resistance. In 1632
a second rising of the peasantry on the Ens was accompanied by the
same slaughter, and the same devastation; and in these two contests
alone, which are but trifling episodes in the sanguinary history of the
thirty years war, upwards of fifty thousand subjects of Austria, upon a
moderate calculation, were sacrificed to the childish superstition and
inveterate bigotry of its ruler. “The victory of the White Mountain,”
says Schiller, “put Ferdinand in possession of all his dominions. He
even received them with greater powers than his predecessors; since
their allegiance had been unconditionally pledged to him, and no
letter of majesty now existed to limit his sovereign authority. The
war was ended, if justice was his object; and if magnanimity was to be
united with justice, so was the punishment. The fate of Germany was
in his hands; the happiness and misery of millions were dependent on
his resolution. Never was a more important trust placed in a single
hand; never was the blindness of one individual productive of more
fatal consequences.” The barbarities committed on both sides, during
these conflicts, were horrible beyond description. The peasantry had
treasured up the recollection of the cruelties they had suffered at
the hands of Herberstorf and his soldiery, and now repaid them with
dreadful interest. Once goaded over the line of legal authority, their
ferocity knew no bounds: nor did they glut their lust of vengeance
upon the soldiery only; those of their own class and sect who did not
immediately gather round the standard of insurrection, were mutilated
or slaughtered without compunction. On the other hand the prisoners
taken by the Catholic party, were tortured and executed with a horrid
ingenuity, that might have edified a Sioux Indian, or a Spanish
inquisitor. Ferdinand would only remember that the inhabitants of
Upper Austria had risen seven times in thirty-seven years, and would
make no allowances for the provocations which had driven a naturally
loyal people to desperation. He had been told by his jesuits, that
Protestantism and rebellion were synonymous terms, and to Ferdinand II.
“the voice of a monk was the voice of God.” “Nothing on earth,” writes
his own confessor, “was more sacred in his eyes than the priesthood.
If it could happen, he used to say, that an angel and a clergyman were
to meet him at the same time and place, the clergyman should receive
his first, and the angel his second obeisance[39].” Gracious God! for
what wise purposes are men permitted to make Thy holy name a signal for
butchery, to turn the manna of Thy word into poison, and sow with the
brier and the thorn Thy “ways of pleasantness and Thy paths of peace.”


                        FOOTNOTES (CHAPTER IV.)

[31] Vide Baron von Schmidtburg’s ‘Tagebuche einer Donau-Reise.’

[32] The remarkable gorge from Hayenbach to Neuhaus is called by the
peasantry of the district, “In den Schlägen,” or Schlagleiten.

[33] The Strudel and the Wirpel are a fall and whirlpool in the Danube,
between Linz and Ips, of which hereafter.

[34] As soon as you reach Frankfort, the Prussian dollars and groschen
cease to circulate generally, and your bill is made out in the money of
the empire, that is, in florins or gouldens and kreutzers. The florin,
or goulden, is a mere nominal coin of the value of sixty kreutzers,
and the silver pieces in circulation are those of 3, 6, 10, 20, and 30
kreutzers each, so marked on the reverse. In Bavaria, the 10, 20, and
30 kreutzer pieces go for 12, 24, and 36 kreutzers; so that the gold
ducat, the real value of which is 4-1/2 florins, will, in Bavaria, pass
for 4 _fl._ 54 _k._, and sometimes five florins. In Austria, however,
the silver coins pass for no more than they are marked, and the ducat
drops to 4 _fl._ 30 _k._ The Venetian ducat, which is frequently met
with in Austria, is worth a few kreutzers more than the German ducat.
The paper florin, or goulden, is two-fifths, or, as the Austrians
calculate, four-tenths of a good or silver florin.

[35] The remark does not say much for the taste or discrimination of
the Englishman, whoever he might be. There is an endless variety upon
the Rhine, which yields to the Danube only in points of grandeur--in
breadth, extent, and boldness of scenery. In variety, it quite equals
the Danube, and, I should almost say, surpasses it.

[36] Literally “fist-right,”--the right of the strongest arm,--

            “The good (?) old plan,
      That they may take who have the power,
            And they may keep who can.”

[37] Called, in the chronicles of the times, “Albert with the tress,”
because he wore a lock of hair, which he received either from his wife,
or from some other distinguished lady, entwined with his own, and
formed a society of the Tress, not unlike the commencement of our order
of the Garter: he was likewise called the Astrologer, from his fondness
for judicial astrology.--Coxe’s ‘History of the House of Austria,’
chap. 10.

[38] Fadinger was a strong fatalist. Upon his standards were inscribed,
by his order, the words, “Es muss seyn!” “It must be.”

[39] And yet, as was most just, this poor weak bigot was condemned to
see some of his dearest hopes frustrated by the treachery of one of his
vaunted saints. “A Capuchin friar,” exclaimed the deceived Emperor,
when the duplicity of the celebrated Father Joseph became apparent,
“has disarmed me with his rosary, and covered six electoral caps with
his Cowl.”




                              CHAPTER V.

 Efferding.--Ottensheim.--Kloster-Willering.--Linz.--The Platz.--The
 Landstrasse.--The Schlossberg.--The Landhaus.--The Theatre.--The
 Bridge.--The Pöstlingberg.--View on leaving Linz.--Steyereck.--The
 River Traun.--Ebelsberg.--Luftenberg.--Monastery of St.
 Florian.--Tillysburg.--Spielberg.--Mauthausen.--Ens.--Origin and
 History of the City.--Antiquities discovered in its neighbourhood.


From Aschach to Ottensheim is one labyrinth of islands, through
which few boats venture without a pilot, as the current of the river
is continually changing its course, and the deep channel or ditch
(_Graben_) as the boatmen here call it, through which they have safely
steered a few days before, may upon their second visit be transformed
into a sandbank, or blocked up with trunks and branches of trees,
washed into it by the floods that so frequently occur in this part of
the country. While passing through this archipelago, the banks of the
river are seldom visible, but fortunately there is nothing upon them to
make that circumstance a matter of regret. The whole country between
Aschach and Willering is said to have been formerly the basin of one
vast lake, cradled amongst the mountains of Bohemia, Moravia, and Upper
Austria, and the name of Ilmersee, which appears in the thirteenth
century, is quoted in confirmation of the tradition. The White Tower of
Hartkirchen is shortly seen on the right bank. The Catholic minister
of this church, and his cook-maid, were cruelly murdered here, by the
revolted peasantry in 1626. Pupping, celebrated for a dead saint, and
Bergheim for a beautiful brewer_ess_[40], whose strong beer and bright
eyes distracted the heads and the hearts of her customers, and might
have sorely tempted the holy St. Otmar himself, had the good man been
living at the time.--Waschpoint, Wörth, and two or three other small
villages on the same bank all passed, were ached Efferding, one of the
oldest places on the Danube. The beautiful Chrimhilt, the heroine of
the Nibelungen-lied, is said, in that poem, to have rested here upon
her journey into Hungary. One of the Schaumbergs bought the little town
from the Bishop of Passau in 1367, for four thousand florins; and at
the extinction of that family, it came to the Starrhembergs, who built
a castle here, still called the Burg. A rich and valiant family, of
the name of Schifer, founded and liberally endowed an hospital here,
as early as 1325, and expressly commanded that, when there was not a
sufficient number of sick and poor in the town of Efferding to fill the
hospital, the governor should send out “into the highways and hedges,
and compel them to come in.”

On the 1st of September, 1632, the combined peasantry burned the
suburbs, and, on the 25th, defeated the nephew and namesake of the
great and merciless Tilly, but, shortly afterwards, were themselves
defeated by the Imperial troops with great slaughter. Upwards of three
thousand of the unfortunate men, who fell at various periods in this
neighbourhood, lie buried here, as did also their leader, Fadinger,
till Herberstorf had the body disinterred, and carried to Seebach,
where it was flung into a hole beneath the gibbet. The historian Kurz
has preserved the receipt for the money paid to the ministers of this
paltry vengeance. The Bavarians plundered Efferding in 1704 and 1742,
and it suffered considerably during the last war, from the continual
fighting in its neighbourhood. A dozen small villages are scattered
on each bank, between Efferding and Ottensheim; and the Ihn, the
Bösenbach, and the Rodel, wind amongst them to the Danube. At one of
these little places, named Hartheim, dwelt in 1620 a lady of the family
of Aspan, the fame of whose wealth, according to Hoheneck, determined
a Prince of Saxony to make a personal proposal of marriage. Travelling
incognito with only two attendants, he fell, near Efferding, into the
hands of the rebel peasantry, who, taking the unfortunate suitor for
a spy, put him and his domestics instantly to the sword. At length,
we approached the square white tower, which had been for some time
gleaming above the intervening islands; and as we issued from amongst
them, the little market town of Ottensheim, with its chateau and
church, all grouped as with an eye to effect, upon a gentle eminence
projecting into the Danube, gradually glided into view. On a house in
the market-place, is the figure of a child in a cradle, surmounted by a
canopy, and underneath it are the following lines:

                 “Im 1208 Jahr.
                 Da Ottensheim noch nicht genannt war,
                 Ist Kaiser Otto Auserkohren
                 Alhier in diesen Haus geboren.”

What _Emperor_ Otto, the worthy composer of this distich intended us to
believe was born here in 1208, I cannot pretend to determine, as the
fourth and last emperor of that name was elected as early as 1197; and
that the place was not called Ottensheim before that period, appears to
be another equally unfortunate assertion.

Leopold II., Duke of Austria, who died in 1194, sold Wechsenberg,
_Ottensheim_, Grein, and Hartenstein, to Otto von Schleung, “mit
leuth und gut,” (with people and property,) for six hundred pounds
of silver. In the fourteenth century, Heinrich von Neuhaus, Peter
von Sternberg, and Ulrich von Landstein, laid waste this part of the
country to the walls of Ottensheim, and began a feud, which desolated
Upper Austria for upwards of one hundred years. In 1626, a body of the
insurgents, under a leader named Christoph Zeller, established their
head-quarters at Ottensheim; and the French plundered the town, both in
their disastrous retreat in 1742, and their victorious march to Vienna
in 1809. Ottensheim, however, has recovered from its many disasters,
and drives a tolerably brisk trade in linen, wood and fruit, pit-coal
and alum. Between Ottensheim and Kloster-Willering, which faces it,
there is another rapid race of the river, that forms quite a little
sea of billows. Kloster-Willering lies at the foot of the fir-crowned
Kirnberg, which, rising on the right bank, extends its forest-covered
masses as far as Linz. The Kloster was originally the castle of the
Knights of Willering, descended from the old Counts of Kirnberg.
Cholo and Ulrich of Willering, Barons of Weremberg, established some
Cistertian monks here in 1146. Ulrich went to Palestine, from whence
he never returned. With him his family became extinct, and the whole
of his great possessions fell to the fortunate monks of Willering.
They soon wheedled themselves into the confidence and favour of all
the noblest and richest families of Upper Austria, many of the heads
of which joined their fraternity. The Archdukes of Austria themselves
highly patronized this Kloster, and freed it from all tolls and taxes;
and it shortly became so powerful, that it assumed a species of
jurisdiction over all the other establishments of its order, upon the
banks of the Danube, as far as Engelhardszell. One of its abbots, in
1544, played it a scurvy trick. He was a Nürnberger by birth, and named
Erasmus Villicus. Scarcely had he been raised to this enviable dignity,
when he took unto himself a wife, and one fine night disappeared with
the lady, and all the jewels of the Kloster! From that period, a chain
of misfortunes seems to have attended it. It was twice or thrice
plundered during the insurrections; nearly burned to the ground in
1733; suffered in an action between the French and Austrians, in 1742;
and by an inundation in 1787, when the Danube overflowed its banks to
the height of full seven fathoms.

After washing the walls of Kloster Willering, the Danube enters another
beautiful valley, skirted on one side by the dark forests of the
Kirnberg, and on the other by groves of a lighter green, interspersed
with cottages and gardens, over which, in the distance, rise the spires
of Pöstlingberg, announcing to the traveller the vicinity of Linz. On
the brink of each bank runs a carriage-road, the one on the right being
the high post-road to Regensburg and Nürnberg, and that on the left
leading to Ottensheim, Grammetstetten, and Landshag. This beautiful
valley is the favourite promenade of the Linzers, who flock on a fine
summer afternoon through the woods on the right bank, to a hunting
lodge in the Kirnbergerwald, near which stand the ruins of Helfenberg,
the cradle of the old Counts of Kirnberg; and in the winter go in
sledges to Willering, and the neighbouring places, to drink wine, beer,
and coffee, smoke, knit, and hear music.

Having rounded the point of land overlooked by the lofty
Pöstlingberg,--the city of Linz,--the capital of Upper Austria,--with
its long wooden bridge, gradually makes its appearance. Beneath the
rocks on the right bank, stands a long line of houses and chapels, some
romantically situated in little clefts of the rocks, and surrounded by
firs and pines. This place is called the Calvarienberg (Mount Calvary),
and is the scene of numberless processions and religious ceremonies of
the Catholic inhabitants of Linz.

Linz is a handsome, clean, and cheerful looking city, and the
inhabitants may be said to partake the good qualities of their
town. The Linzer women are famed for beauty, if we may believe
the guide-books, and who would dare to doubt them upon such a
subject?--honestly, however, I cannot say I remarked any extraordinary
difference between the lasses of Linz, and their Bavarian neighbours.
The young females of the lower and middling classes, throughout the
south of Germany, are in general plump, good-humoured looking girls,
with florid complexions, large laughing blue eyes, snub noses, and
light hair. Amongst the nobility and gentry, indeed, are some of the
loveliest creatures I ever saw, and more resembling our own sweet
countrywomen than the females of any other nation in Europe. But, as
honest Cowley says:

      --“Beauty, thou wild fantastic ape,
      Who dost in every country change thy shape:
      Here black, there brown, here tawny, and there white,
      Thou flatterer, who comply’st with every sight:
      --Who hast no certain what nor where;
      But vary’st still, and dost thyself declare
      Inconstant as thy she-professors are!--”

Who shall define thee?--

Amongst the men a very visible alteration in person had taken place,
even before we arrived at Linz. There appeared to me considerably
more of the Greek and Italian than the German cast of feature in the
Austrian countenance. Long aquiline noses, dark eyes and swarthy
complexions were new objects to me in German faces. Civility, kindness,
and good humour, however, reigned in the hearts and manners of both
sexes; and after the gloomy pictures I have seen so frequently drawn
in England, of the degraded and miserable condition of the people
of Austria, it was curious enough to mark the content and gaiety
that, at least, appeared to pervade every class of his Imperial
Majesty’s subjects. Having tasted nothing since our single cup of
coffee at Aschach, we hastened to the Golden Lion, the best inn we
saw upon the Platz, and made a capital breakfast, in an apartment on
the first floor, fitted up precisely like an English coffee-room,
the windows commanding a good view of the Platz, which (it being a
market morning) presented a lively and interesting appearance. It
is a fine, spacious, oblong square, between eight and nine hundred
feet in length, and upwards of three hundred broad[41], surrounded on
three sides by handsome houses built of freestone, (some of these five
stories high,) and ornamented with a twisted column, surmounted by a
gilt glory, erected by the Emperor Charles VI., in 1713, in memory
of a great plague. South of this column, the square was filled with
market-people and purchasers. The ground was covered with their large
flat baskets, containing all kinds of provisions. By the side of each
stood the vendor, in his or her provincial costume; and amongst the
motley crowd moved the mistresses and maidens of Linz, the former
dressed “à la Française,” with the exception of short sleeves, and
long gloves tied above the elbow, a fashion peculiar to Germany; and
the latter in their little jackets, coloured petticoats, and splendid
caps of gold brocade, entitled “Linzer hauben,” modelled, one would
suppose, from the gorgeous crest of a Chinese or golden pheasant.
Exactly facing our windows was a large house, where, over the _porte
cochère_, the Austrian Eagle (that “rara avis in terris, nigroque
simillima _cygno_” _with two necks_) sprawled upon a yellow board,
all legs and wings, like a bird of prey on a barn door, and under it
paraded a tall mustachoed Austrian grenadier sentinel, in white and
black uniform, black gaiters, and portentous bear-skin cap, while half
a dozen soldiers of other regiments lounged about the gateway of the
Kaiserlich,--Königlich,--something or other, that I could not exactly
make out, and added considerably to the picturesque effect of the whole
scene.

Breakfast over, we repaired to the _polizey_, to reclaim our passports,
exchanged on landing for a printed paper containing, in German, French,
and Italian, an injunction, under certain pains and penalties, to
present yourself to the police, within twenty-four hours after your
arrival; those secured, we rambled over the town, which has nothing
particularly worth notice in the way of buildings. There is a tolerably
handsome church near the post-office, and polizey-direction; in a
long airy street, (the landstrasse) that runs right out into the
country; for, unlike continental towns in general, Linz has no gloomy
gateways or frowning barriers; a light turnpike a little way out of
the town on the high-road, painted, as they all are in Germany, with
the colours of the empire or kingdom, and resembling, exceedingly,
the now nearly exploded barber’s pole, alone indicates the spot where
the land-traveller must exhibit his passport and pay the little
weg-geld or road-toll, to an officer stationed for that purpose at a
neighbouring cottage. A little arch, under which you pass into the
Platz from the bank of the Danube, is dignified by the name of the
Wasser-thor; and you are directed to the Haupt-thor, the Schmidt-thor,
and the Land-haus-thor, as you might in London be directed to Ludgate,
or to Holborn-bars, but the Thor itself has long vanished. Riesbeck,
who travelled through Germany in 1780, speaking of Linz, says, “the
city is open on all sides, and the town and country seem so united,
that if my spirit of knight errantry would allow it, I would pitch
my tent, and lay my travelling staff up, here;” and gives honourable
testimony to “the industry, happiness, and prosperity of the eleven
thousand inhabitants who dwell in it.” If the late wars have occasioned
any decrease of its prosperity, they have either not had that effect
upon its population, or the inhabitants have been singularly fortunate
in repairing damages, since the peace. Their number is now, by two
different accounts, estimated at sixteen, and twenty thousand. From
the Schlossberg, on the west of the city, you have a fine view over
the Danube and the surrounding country. Upon this rock anciently stood
the citadel of Linz, in which Richard Cœur de Lion, it is said, was
feasted as he returned from his long Austrian captivity. The Archduke
frequently resided here, and Rodolph II. considerably enlarged it. The
Emperor Ferdinand I. still further enlarged and beautified it. It was
afterwards converted into barracks, and, finally, into an hospital,
which was burned down in 1800. Upon its site a commodious workhouse
has been erected; and the poor now eat their crumbs upon the spot
where formerly stood “the rich man’s table.” There are many charitable
establishments[42] and public schools in Linz, as well for Catholics
as Protestants, and some considerable manufactories, one of which (the
Imperial and Royal Woollen Cloth Manufactory) is a little town in
itself.

The Landhaus, the Guildhall of Linz, (or rather, the Government House
of Upper Austria, where the president and eight counsellors appointed
for the administration of justice in the country above the Ens,
hold their sessions,) stands on the promenade, and was originally a
Franciscan convent, built, in 1287, by Eberhard von Walsee. From a
window of this building, the shot was fired that mortally wounded the
rebel captain, Stephen Fadinger. Near the Landhaus is the new theatre.
The old one was destroyed by the fire in 1800, which reduced to ashes
the greater part of this quarter of the town. The erection of the
present building cost ninety-six thousand florins. Under the same roof,
is the Redouten-Saal, or Assembly Room for masquerades, balls, etc.

The old chroniclers are not agreed as to the origin and foundation
of Linz. Lazius would trace it to the Roman _Lentium_, or _Lentia_,
destroyed by the Huns. Bruschius, in his rhyming panegyric, says,

      “Hanc quis condidit primus, quo tempore et anno,
      Nominis aut hujus quæ sit origo vetus;
      Vix poterit dici: siquidem Germania fustos
      Non tantâ scripsit religione suos,
      Quanta vel Græci fecerunt laude, vel ipsi
      Ausonii proceres Romuleique patres.”

Under Louis the Child, Linz was known as a toll-place on the Danube,
and the seat of the Counts of Kirnberg. The last of this family sold,
according to Lazius, the whole of his dominions to the Markgraves
of Austria. When the Emperor Frederick II., “the pupil, the enemy,
and the victim of the church,” was excommunicated by Pope Gregory
IX. the second time, in 1236, Linz was besieged by the powers of the
King of Bohemia, the Duke of Bavaria, the Patriarch of Aquileia, and
the Bishops of Bamberg, Freysingen, and Passau. Frederick, however,
assisted only by Albert, Count of Pogen, relieved the good city, and
took one of the church militant, the Bishop of Passau, prisoner. During
the reign of Rodolph of Hapsburg, Linz was plundered by Henry, Duke of
Bavaria; and, in 1335, the Emperor Louis the Bavarian here invested
the Dukes of Austria with Carinthia and the Tyrol, and entered into an
offensive and defensive alliance, to secure the succession of those
countries against the pretensions of the King of Bohemia and his
heirs[43]. In 1481, the whole city was destroyed by fire, with the
exception of the castle and one street. The Emperor Frederick III.
caused it to be rebuilt and considerably enlarged, and declared it, in
1490, the capital of Upper Austria. He bought the village of Urfar,
till then only inhabited by fishermen, and, flinging a wooden bridge
over the Danube to it from Linz, it, in a short time, became a kind of
suburb to the city. On the 19th of August, 1493, Linz lost its imperial
benefactor. Frederick died in this city, of which he may almost be
called the founder, at the advanced age of seventy-eight, and after a
reign of fifty-three years, the longest of any emperor since the days
of Augustus. He had been afflicted with a cancerous ulcer in his leg.
As the only means of relief, he submitted to amputation; but, from the
unskilfulness of the surgeon, and the vitiated state of his blood, a
second amputation was necessary. He bore these painful operations with
extreme fortitude, and gave a singular proof of his characteristic
phlegm. Taking the severed limb in his hand, he said to those who were
present, “What difference is there between an emperor and a peasant? or
rather, is not a sound peasant better than a sick emperor? Yet I hope
to enjoy the greatest good which can happen to man: a happy exit from
this transitory life.” He seemed to be in a fair state of recovery,
but his rigid observation of a fast, during which, in opposition to his
medical attendants, he would take nothing but melons and water, brought
on a dysentery, which, in his debilitated condition, became fatal.
I agree with Schultes in thinking that an equestrian statue of this
benefactor of Linz would be a more handsome and appropriate ornament
for its principal square, than the column before mentioned. In 1521-2,
the Archduke Ferdinand, afterwards emperor and founder of the German
branch of the House of Austria, solemnized, at Linz, his nuptials with
Anne, Princess of Hungary and Bohemia. Thrice, during the remainder of
that century, was Linz visited with the awful scourge of pestilence. In
1620, the whole of Upper Austria was pledged to Bavaria; and, during
the insurrections as already related, Linz was invested by the peasants
under Fadinger, and its suburbs were reduced to ashes. Keppler, the
famous astronomer, who at that time resided in them, lost some valuable
MSS. in the flames. Linz was thrice stormed during those disturbances.
In 1741, Linz was taken possession of by the allied French and
Bavarian army, under Marshal Bellisle and the Elector, and in the three
unsuccessful struggles of Austria against Napoleon in 1800, 1805, and
1809, it suffered, in common with other towns upon the Danube, the
various _mis_fortunes of war.

The wooden bridge across the Danube, I have already said, was first
built in 1490, but there is mention made of a bridge as early as 1106.
It is conjectured, however, that it must have been a bridge of boats
only, as the first regular bridge across to Urfar was certainly that
thrown over by Ferdinand[44]. A stroll across this bridge, which is
upwards of one thousand feet in length, through the little town of
Urfar, (for though it merely looks like the suburb of Linz, it has
risen to the dignity of a _markt_[45],) and up the steep Pöstlingberg,
to the church and observatory on its summit, would, no doubt, repay
any one for the trouble if he could afford the time, as far as an
extensive and beautiful view goes; but, as my object was to travel
through Austria, and not merely look over it, as a certain respectable
personage is said “to look over Lincoln,” nothing but a view being to
be gained by it, I declined the invitation; and having revictualled our
bark, for we always dined on board, about twelve o’clock, we

        “All got under weigh,
      And bude a long adieu to”--

the capital of Upper Austria.

The retrospective view, after we had left Linz about a quarter of a
mile behind us, was exceedingly beautiful, as beautiful, perhaps, as
the view on leaving Passau, but of quite a different character. The
city lay on our left, the beach before it crowded with people, and
piled with merchandise,--a regiment of infantry marching out of the
Wasser-thor, drums beating and colours flying; the bridge, alive with
passengers, stretched across the gulf, from whence the Danube rushed
panting out, and then spread itself, right and left, like a calm bright
lake before us. In front, gradually rising from the water’s edge,
and spotted with the white straggling buildings of the little town of
Urfar, towered the majestic Pöstlingberg, cultivated to its summit,
and crowned by its church and observatory. More to the right arose the
Pfenningberg, equally lofty, and similarly chequered with corn and
meadow land. Between them, lay a soft green valley, in the bosom of
which nestled the old village of Magdalena, the spire of its ancient
church just peeping above the trees. A cloudless deep blue sky formed
the back ground of this rich and laughing picture, that gladdened the
heart, and filled it “almost to overflowing” with love and gratitude to
that ineffable spirit, the Great Architect and

          “Author of this Universe,
  And all this good to man! For whose well-being,
  So amply, and with hands so liberal,
  He hath provided all things.”

Looking forward on our course, a crowd of little villages appeared
on the left bank of the river, which again meandered amongst woody
islands, and received, just below a small hamlet called Furth, the
tiny stream of the Kitzelbach. Farther on, upon the same bank, rose
the half burned chateau of Steyereck, upon a small hill, in front of
the forest-covered mountains which again line that side of the river.
The little market-town of Steyereck is hidden behind the poplars of
an island close to the shore. Steyereck was formerly a place of some
commercial importance[46], but the Danube has receded of late years
considerably from its walls; and the large sand-banks it has left
behind it, prevents the lading or unlading of vessels, which now
seek some more fortunate town. A little trouble and expense would,
it appears, remove the sand, and restore the Danube to its original
channel, thereby not only greatly benefiting Steyereck, but all the
surrounding country, which is now, from the new course of the river,
subjected to continual inundations, disasters that this work would
greatly diminish in number, if not entirely prevent. No measures have
as yet, however, been taken to effect this desirable purpose. The
worthy Austrian would be considerably improved, could a little of the
persevering industry of the Hollander be infused into his composition.
Steyereck belonged originally to the monks of Kremsmünster, but,
as early as 1136, it had fallen into the power of a family named
Khuenringe, who lorded it over the greater part of the Nordwaldes.
Albert, of Khuenringe, sold the Castle of Steyereck, in 1280, to
Ulrich von Kapell, surnamed “The Long,” who, in the famous battle
of Marchfield, between the Emperor Rudolph I. and Ottocar, King of
Bohemia, rescued the valiant founder of the House of Hapsburg from a
gigantic Thuringian knight, named Valens, who had unhorsed and wounded
him, and, by his courage and exertions, decided the fortune of the day.

      “Terra Rudolphus hostium cinctus globo
      Multorum, et unus jam pedes vim sustinet.
      Ulricus alis advolans Capellides,
      Ceu sæva raptis ursa pro catulis nova
      Irrumpit acie, ferro iter per inimicos secat,
      Alio reservat Cæsarem statuens equo, etc.”

               +Calaminus in Rudolpho Ottocaro.+

It remained in the family of the Kapellers till the extinction of the
male branch in 1409, when the last daughter of that house married
Heinrich von Lichtenstein. In 1569, one of the Lichtensteins sold
Steyereck to Christopher Jörger, of Tolleth; and, in 1635, the town and
castle were given as a dower with Elizabeth Jörger, to David Ungnad,
Count of Weissenwolf, who built the present chateau. In 1770, the
lightning fired the building, and a valuable library and collection of
pictures were utterly consumed.

Nearly facing Steyereck, is the mouth of the green and beautiful river
Traun, which, rising out of the Grundel-See in the romantic Steyermark,
flows through the lakes of Hallstädter and Gmünden, and swelled by
the Ager, the Alben, and the Krems, hurries, foaming under the bridge
of Ebelsberg, into the Danube. Ebelsberg, or Ebersberg, which lies
on the right bank of the Traun, and is visible from the Danube, is
a place of great antiquity[47], and the scene of a desperate battle
between the French and the Austrians, fought on the 3d of May, 1809.
General Claparede’s division stormed Ebelsberg from the bridge across
the Traun, under a tremendous fire of artillery directed against the
bridge, by the Austrian Field-Marshal Hiller. Claparede succeeded in
carrying the place, but with dreadful slaughter. Another column of
French, who had passed the river higher up, upon entering the town,
revenged the death of their comrades most fearfully upon the Viennese
volunteers who had so bravely defended it, three hundred of whom were
burned alive in the castle, the town having taken fire during the
assault, and the rest cut to pieces, From twelve to sixteen thousand
men fell in this terrible conflict; and the banks of the Traun, from
Ebelsberg to the Danube, were literally covered with slain[48].

The Emperor Arnulph gave Ebelsberg, then called Eporesburg, to the
monks of Kremsmünster, A.D. 893, together with the confiscated
property of a Count Engelschalk, who carried off the Emperor’s natural
daughter. Arnulph feigned forgiveness, and luring the Count back from
Zwentibold, whither he had fled with the Princess, delivered him over
to the diet at Ratisbon, who condemned him to lose his eyes, and his
nephew Wilhelm, his head. In the year 900, Count Sighard (whose name
is handed down to the modern traveller, by the little post town of
Sighardskirchen, near Vienna) built a castle at Ebelsberg, which was
destroyed on the defeat of the Germans by the Hungarians in 993. A new
castle was built shortly afterwards on the same spot, and destroyed by
Frederick of Austria in 1242, in consequence of the excesses committed
by Rudiger, Bishop of Passau, who, in conjunction with the Lords of
a castle at Obernberg on the Inn, kept the whole intervening country
in a state of terror. It was again rebuilt, and Rodolph of Hapsburg
defeated here one hundred and twenty knights, previous to his battle
with Ottocar. In 1586, this third castle was destroyed by fire. Stephen
Fadinger established his head-quarters here in 1626, and arrested the
Imperial Commissioners. In the August of that year the peasants were
defeated at Ebelsberg, with the loss of two thousand men.

Below Steyereck, the left bank alone is hilly; the right resumes the
flat, sedgy appearance it presented from Regensburg to Straubing.
Luftenberg, an old place upon the left bank, commanding a fine view
over the opposite country, is principally remarkable as the spot where
the fanatical visionary Laimbauer held forth in 1635-36. He entrenched
himself, with the wretched enthusiasts who followed him, in the church
of Frankenberg, and after wounding and killing many of the officers
sent to apprehend him, from its windows, left his disciples to be burnt
alive. He was, however, taken in his attempt to escape the flames, and
executed at Linz. The monastery of St. Florian now appeared on our
right, and shortly afterwards the chateau called Tilly’s Burg. St.
Florian, to whose honour the monastery was erected, suffered martyrdom
A.D. 303, at Lorch on the Ens, where, by order of a commander named
Aquilinus, he was thrown from the bridge into the river, with a stone
round his neck. His spirit appeared to a matron, and directed her where
to find and where to bury his body; and over his grave, as the story
runs, an altar was first erected, then a church, and lastly a kloster.
Stephen Fadinger had his head-quarters here in 1626.

Tilly’s Burg is a large square building with four towers, and said to
contain as many windows as there are days in the year, a peculiarity
attributed to at least a dozen places in England, and I believe
generally reported of every mansion with more windows than one would
take the trouble to count. On the spot where this chateau now stands,
once arose the tower of the castle of Volkerstorf, the seat of one of
the most ancient and powerful families in Austria. Some warriors of
that name fought at Constanz as early as 948. In 1146 a Volkerstorf
accompanied Duke Leopold to the tournament at Zurich. Ortolph von
Volkerstorf stabbed Henrich Wittigo, secretary to the Emperor Frederick
II., in the monastery of St. Florian, for which deed he and his brother
were banished, their property confiscated, and their castle destroyed.
In the Diet of Augsburg, A.D. 1275, Bernhard von Volkerstorf spoke
vehemently against Ottocar, King of Bohemia, whom he openly accused
of attempting to poison his own wife, and of tyrannising over Austria.
Under the protection of the House of Hapsburg, the Volkerstorfs
returned to their native country, and rebuilt their castle in 1331. In
1558 it suffered materially by fire, and the last of the family having
embraced the Lutheran faith, the whole of his property was confiscated
in 1620, and the castle given, three years afterwards, by the Emperor
Ferdinand, to the famous Count Tserclas von Tilly[49]. In 1630-32, he
built  the present chateau, on the site of the old castle, and in the
appellation of Tilly’s Burg buried all recollection of the ancient
Lords of Volkerstorf, whose once dreaded name is now only known to the
peasant of Austria, as that of a little insignificant village in the
neighbourhood of Ens. The last female of Tilly’s family, the Countess
Montfort, sold the Burg in 1730, to the Bavarian Baron von Weichs.

Near Tilly’s Burg is the old village of Kronau, known as early as the
times of Thassillo, Duke of Bavaria, by the name of Kranesdorf, and
on the left bank lie Hof-im-Schlag, Himberg, Auwinden, St. Georgen,
and two or three other small places, remarkable only for their great
antiquity. To the north of St. Georgen lies Frankenstein, where the
miserable followers of Laimbauer met their horrible fate.

We now approached the old square tower of Spielberg, which, together
with the steeples of the city of Ens, we had for some time seen in the
distance, backed by the glittering and rugged line of the Styrian Alps.
The ruin of Spielberg stands upon an Island near the right bank of
the Danube, and just in the angle formed by the stream, which, having
stretched away boldly to the south-east, here turns sharply off to the
north, and washes the walls of the market town of Mauthausen, which is
seen through a vista of islands at the extremity of a distant point
of land. Spielberg is admirably situated for a Raub-schloss, which
was of course its original character. Otto and Eckbert von Spielberg
were slain in Frederick Barbarossa’s Italian expedition, A.D. 1156,
and one Dittmar von Spielberg was present at the siege of Milan in
1158. In 1328, the family of Spielberg became extinct, the last of
that name, Eberhard, having previously sold the city and castle of
Ens to the Emperor Rudolph I., for six hundred marks. Reinprecht von
Walsee possessed Spielberg in 1329, and after passing through several
hands, it finally formed part of the dower brought by the Countess
of Weissenwolf to her husband in 1635. There is a small fall of the
river here, which was at one time considered dangerous by the timid
boatmen on the Danube, and has been confounded by some writers with
the celebrated Strudel, probably from one of the names given to it
by the schiffers, viz. Der Saurüssel[50]. It is also called by some,
the Neubruch: small boats seldom venture through it, though a slight
tossing would, I should imagine, be the only consequence. My companion
and I often laughed, to think how a smart English six-oared cutter
would astonish the natives here, who are certainly the clumsiest and
most fearful navigators in Europe. Mauthausen is said by the boatmen to
be half of Aschach, which, carried away by an inundation of the Danube,
floated with the current down to this spot,--a strange tradition, which
it is supposed has arisen from a fancied resemblance between the two
towns. Howsoever it came, it stands in a very pleasant situation,
directly opposite to the mouth of the Ens, and looking up that river
upon the city of Ens, and the far-distant peaks and glaciers of the
Styrian Alps. There was a bridge of boats here in 1809, but it was
destroyed by the Bavarians. The neighbouring tower of Pragstein was
occupied by the French in 1742. Mauthausen suffered severely in the war
between Rudolph and Matthias, and in the insurrections during the reign
of Ferdinand. There is a woollen-stocking and a leather manufactory
here, a dye-house of some celebrity, and a salt-market, from whence the
greater part of Bohemia is supplied.

The city of Ens is supposed to have been originally constructed out
of the ruins of the Roman Lorch, (indifferently called Laureacum,
Lavoriacum, Blaboriacum, Loriacte,) the station of the second Italian
legion, upon the site of which is still a little village of the name.
Ammianus Marcellinus is the oldest historian who makes mention of
Laureacum. Bruschius, Hansiz, and Aventine assert, that Lorch was
destroyed by Attila, on his march to Gaul; but the biographer of St.
Severin states, that two years after the passage of Attila, that holy
person arrived at Lorch from the neighbourhood of Vienna, and found it
flourishing, and a Christian priest established therein. The Huns might
have taken the left bank of the Danube, particularly as it was their
nearest road. From an inscription on the walls of Ens, it would appear
that two of the holy Evangelists themselves took the city under their
especial protection, and converted the people to Christianity[51].

St. Peter himself is also said to have preached the gospel here in
the year 49. In 454, Lorch is reported to have been preserved by the
prayers of St. Severin, but was afterwards destroyed by the Barbarians,
according to his own prediction in 737, when Bibilo, bishop of Lorch,
fled with his monks to Passau, as I have already mentioned in my
notice of that city. The authentic history of Ens, however, commences
during the reign of Charlemagne, when that Emperor, aware of the
importance of such a situation, pitched his tents at the mouth of
the Ens, which formed at that time the line of demarcation between
Bavaria and the lands of the Avars or Huns of Pannonia, that people
having, during the sixth and seventh centuries, “spread their permanent
dominion from the foot of the Alps to the sea-coast of the Euxine[52].”
Here, on the 5th of September, 791, he encamped, and, after fasting
and praying for three days, proceeded on his expedition. The troops on
the left bank of the Danube were commanded by the Counts Thederich and
Meginfried; those on the right by the Emperor in person; and between
the two hosts upon the river floated a third body, with provisions
and necessaries for the whole army. In fifty-two days he penetrated
to the river Rab, destroying the rings or wooden fortifications of
the Avars, the first of which he found upon the Riederberge, by Tuln;
and would have carried his victorious arms still farther, had not a
contagious disorder killed nearly all his horses. In 805, we still hear
of Lorch, which, under the names of Lorahha and Loracha, is designated
as a villa regia, and mention is made of its market-place and of an
imperial judge, one Warner or Warnhar. After the death of Arnulph
the Bastard, the Hungarians burst into the country, and devastated
it beyond the Ens. The Bavarians rallied, and beat them back; and
Leopold, then Grenz-graf, or Count of the frontier, in the year 900,
slew upwards of 3000 of them on the left bank of the Danube. In the
same year, as a stronger check to their inroads, he erected on the Ens
a strong fortress[53] which he called Ensburg (Anasiburgum.) Buildings
gradually rose around it; and in proportion as the old Roman city of
Laureacum declined, its rival prospered, till their names  became
confounded, and that of the new city predominating, a small village,
probably on the actual site of the Roman town, alone retains the
ancient appellation of Lorch. Richar, bishop of Passau, persuaded Louis
the Child, that the fortress of Ensburg stood upon ground belonging
to the monastery of St. Florian, and it was consequently ceded by the
sovereign to that establishment. The Hungarians snatched it from its
holy possessors in 907, when they defeated Louis, and slew the valiant
markgraf Leopold, brother-in-law to Carloman, the bishops of Salzburg,
Freysing, and Seben, three abbots, and nineteen counts. Leopold’s son,
Arnulf, defeated the Barbarians on the Inn, in 912, and Conrad I.
bribed them back over the frontiers in 918. After Arnulf’s death, the
Barbarians again invaded Bavaria, but were ultimately, at the close
of the tenth century, driven out of the country by the Markgraves,
Leopold the Babenberger, and Burkhard, who carried the war into the
enemy’s territories as far as Krems and Mölk. In a deed of the time
of Otho II., Ensburg is still spoken of as distinct from Lorch or
Lorach, and mention is made in the same deed of the church of St.
Laurentius, situated without the walls of Lorch. Now there is a church
of St. Laurence standing to this day, within ten minutes’ walk of the
city of Ens; and though it was built as late as the time of Maximilian
I., it is not improbable that it stands upon the site of the ancient
edifice[54]. In the important deeds by which Ottocar VI. made over the
steyermark to Leopold of Austria, Ens is called by one party a markt,
and by the other a village; and it is asserted by some writers that Ens
was first made a fortified town by Leopold, who built its walls with
the ransom of Richard Cœur de Lion![55] However this may be, and if
true, it is a very interesting circumstance, Ens certainly dates its
existence as a city from somewhere about this period, as, at the close
of the twelfth century, the Enser-fair was almost as much celebrated in
Germany as that of Leipzig is at present. Rudolph of Hapsburg received
the keys of Ens from the hands of a lord of Sumerau, and afterwards
bought the city, for six hundred marks, of Eberhard von Spielberg.

Duke Albert the Lame concluded here, in 1336, the peace with John, king
of Bohemia, which gave Carinthia to Austria, and the Tyrol to Charles,
the son of that monarch, afterwards Charles IV. The victorious army of
Matthias Corvinus, king of Hungary, penetrated as far as Ens during
the war with the Emperor Frederick III., and in 1532, the Turks, who
had burst into Hungary and Austria, headed by the Sultan himself,
pushed forward some troops to the walls of this city, between whom and
the burghers a desperate conflict took place upon the bridge. In the
insurrections of 1624, Stephen Fadinger summoned the town, and another
rebel-chief, named Wurm, cannonaded it, but it stood out against
both till relieved by Colonel Löbel, who defeated the peasants, and
burned their camp. In 1683, while Cara Mustapha lay before Vienna,
several flying parties of the Turks scoured the country around Ens, and
penetrated nearly to Linz. On the 4th of May, 1809, Napoleon had his
headquarters here, and received a deputation from the townspeople of
Mauthausen, which place he had threatened with bombardment.

In the centre of the Platz stands a tall bell or clock tower built by
Maximilian I. Some years ago a rib-bone was shown in it as that of
a giant. It had most probably formed part of the stock in trade of
an elephant, and was thought sufficiently curious to be removed to
Cuvier’s museum in Paris. Many Roman antiquities have been discovered
in Ens and its vicinity; some gold coins of the Emperor Probus, several
marble busts, and inscribed stones. Some of the latter are still to be
seen in the old Burg of Enseck.

Two large stone coffins without any inscription were dug out of the
Aichberg, a short distance from the town, in 1808. Some monumental
busts were also found, but they had been cut out of very bad sandstone,
and were much injured by time.


                        FOOTNOTES (CHAPTER V.)

[40] Our language is sadly off for feminine terminations. The German,
brauerinn, köchinn, gartnerinn, etc. are most badly translated by
female brewer, cook-maid, and woman gardener.


[41] The old rhyming chronicler, Bruschius, says,

      “Passibus in longum patet area tota trecentis,
      In latum centum passibus atque decem.”

[42] A tailor of Linz, named Kellerer, established an asylum for thirty
orphans; and in 1734, another tradesman, named Adam Pruner, bequeathed
one hundred and eighty-one thousand florins to the poor of the town,
the interest of which supports twenty-seven children, twenty-seven men,
and twenty-seven women. The Emperor Joseph II. and the Empress Maria
Theresa have also founded charities here.

[43] The Dukes of Austria were afterwards compelled to cede the Tyrol,
but Carinthia has ever since that period continued in the possession of
their House. Coxe’s Hist. i. 155, Pelzel, Schmidt, Struvius, etc.

[44] Bruschius tells us of a capuchin, named Waltherus,

      “Qui nondum vinclis conjunctum aut pontibus Istrum
      Emensus sicco dicitur esse pede.”

Perhaps the river was frozen at that time.

[45] In the campaign of 1809, damage was done in this little town alone
to the amount of 1,326,621 florins.

[46] Steyereck was once famous for its potteries; but the manufactories
have fallen to decay, notwithstanding the fine clay which is still to
be found in its neighbourhood.

[47] In 1787, a stone coffin was dug up in the neighbourhood of
Ebelsberg, five feet long, and one foot two inches wide. On the breast
of the skeleton within lay a golden ring, of rather an oval shape, and
rude workmanship; at its feet was a drinking glass, which had contained
some clear liquid, but it was unfortunately broken, and the liquid
spilt, in the opening of the coffin. Vide _Kurz’ Beträge_, 3 Th. S.
xvii.

[48] General Jominy gives the following account of this sanguinary
affair, in his Political and Military Life of Napoleon. “Hiller had
abandoned the barrier of the Inn without fighting, but he resolved
to defend the passage of the Traun at the formidable position of
Ebersberg. A wooden bridge, thirty fathoms long, presented a more
fearful obstacle than that of Lodi, it being terminated by a walled
town, commanded by a castle, and crowned by heights of very difficult
access. To cross this bridge, in the face of thirty thousand men
and eighty pieces of cannon, was not an easy matter. Massena was
not ignorant of Napoleon’s intention to turn this impregnable post
by Lambach, but the impetuous valour of General Cohorn hurried him
into a sanguinary enterprise. Three Austrian battalions, that had
been imprudently left in front of the bridge, were overthrown, and
driven, at the point of the sword, to the gates of the town, which
were closed against them. Cohorn forced the gates, and penetrated
into the principal street. Massena supported him first by the rest
of Claparede’s division, and then by that of Legrand. A desperate
conflict was kept up from street to street, and from house to house.
Claparede had just possessed himself of the castle, when Hiller threw
four fresh columns into the town, who opened themselves a passage with
the bayonet. A horrible slaughter ensued; several houses took fire that
were filled with wounded and with combatants, whom the crowded state
of the streets prevented from escaping. War never presented a more
cruel scene. At length, tired with carnage, the Austrians abandoned
Ebersberg, and our troops debouched against the heights, where a still
more unequal combat commenced. The arrival of Durosnel’s division of
cavalry by the right bank, and the certainty that his position would
be turned by Lannes, decided Hiller at length to fall back with all
speed upon Enns.... This vigorous blow was still more honourable to
the French troops, as the greater part engaged in this business was
composed of soldiers who had never before seen a battle. It cost Hiller
from six to seven thousand men. We had to regret the loss of from four
to five thousand brave fellows, a great number of whom had fallen a
prey to the flames.”--_Vie Politique et Militaire de Napoléon._ 8vo.
Paris, 1827, tom. iii. pp. 181-3.

[49] This extraordinary man, the founder of the Bavarian army, and the
terror of the Protestants, used to boast before the battle of Leipsig,
of three things--viz. That he had never known woman, never been drunk,
and never lost a battle. “His strange and terrific aspect,” says
Schiller, “was in unison with his character. Of low stature, thin,
with hollow cheeks, a long nose, a broad and wrinkled forehead, large
whiskers, and a pointed chin, he was generally attired in a Spanish
doublet of green with slashed sleeves, with a small and peaked hat on
his head, surmounted by a red feather, which hung down his back. His
whole aspect recalled to recollection the Duke of Alba, the scourge of
the Flemings, and his actions were by no means calculated to remove the
impression.”--_Thirty Years’ War_, book ii. The author of L’Histoire de
Gustave Adolphe gives a similar account of his dress and person, and
adds, that the Maréchal de Grammont, going to see him out of curiosity,
met him at the head of his army, attired as described, and mounted
on a little grey hackney, with one pistol only at his saddle-bow.
“Lorsque le Maréchal s’approcha pour lui faire la révérence, Tilly,
croyant remarquer qu’il s’étonnoit de le voir dans cet équipage, lui
dit, Monsieur, vous trouvez peut--être mon habillement extraordinaire;
j’avoue qu’il n’est pas tout à fait conforme à la mode de France, mais
il est a mon gré, et cela me suffit. Je pense aussi que ma haquenée, et
ce pistolet tout seul, vous surprennent pour le moins autant que mon
accoûtrement; pour que vous n’ayiez pas mauvaise opinion du Comte de
Tilly, à qui vous faites l’honneur de rendre une visite de curiosité,
je vous dirai que j’ai gagné sept batailles décisives, sans avoir été
obligé de tirer une seule fois le pistolet que vous voyez là; et mon
petit cheval ne m’a jamais abandonné et n’a jamais balancé à faire son
devoir.”--p. 173.

[50] There being a place so called in the vicinity of the Strudel.

[51]
      “Zu Enns St. Marx und Lucas lehrt
      Das volck zu Christi Glaub bekehrt.
        Hie ward versenkt St. Florian
        In D’Enns der edle Rittersmann,
      Maximilian da Bischoff war,
      Mild gegen Armen immerdar;
        Diess langt zu sondern Ruhm der Stadt
        Die Gott also begnadet hat.”

[52] Gibbon, when speaking of this expedition, calls it “the triple
effort of a French army that was poured into their (the Avars’)
country, by land and water, through the Carpathian mountains, and along
the plain of the Danube.” _Decline and Fall_, vol. ix. p. 184.

[53] This building is still standing in the north-east quarter of the
city. It is now the property of Baron Rumeskirchen.

[54] In the Niebelunglied, which was compiled about this period, we
find Ens mentioned, by its present name, as one of the places visited
by Chrimhilt, on her journey into Hungary.

        “Da sie uber die Traun kamen, bey _Ense_ auf das feld.”

[55] According to an old German writer quoted by Schultes, Ens was a
walled city as early as the year 900, and already of some consequence.
“Bavari citissime in id ipsum tempus (+A.D.+ 900) pro tuitioni illorum
regni validissimam urbem in littore Anesi fluminis muro obposuerunt.”
But, in this case, why is it called a village by Leopold, in the
twelfth century?




                              CHAPTER VI.

 Nieder-Walsee--Castles of Clam and Kreuzen--Ardagger--Grein--The
 Strudel and the Wirbel--Mistakes of various Authors concerning
 them--St. Nikola--Sarblingstein--Freystein--Hirschau--The
 Isper--Bösenbeug--Story of Bishop Bruno and the Lady
 Richlita--Ips--Gottsdorf.


After washing the walls of Ens, the river from which it takes its name
hurries through several channels, into the Danube. In the time of
Charlemagne it divided Bavaria from the lands of the Avars or Huns of
Pannonia.

    --“Ad fluvium venit Anasum
       Qui medius Bajvarios sejunxit et Hunnos.”

                  Saxo Poeta. T. II. p. 155.

From the point of its confluence with the Danube, the latter is
again studded with islands, sandbanks and sunken rocks as far as
Nieder-Walsee; and the history of the small market towns and villages
upon its flat banks, is as uninteresting as their appearance. On the
left, below the village of Nieder-Sebing, the little river Aust,
formerly the boundary between the Slavi and the Bohemians, flows round
an island, formed in its mouth, into the Danube; and on the right,
above the rippling Erla-bach, stands Erla-Kloster, a convent founded by
Otto of Machland in the tenth century, and suppressed by the Emperor
Joseph II. Our old steersman had been for some time complaining of
illness, and now lay groaning upon some straw, having given up the
paddle, by which the boat was steered, to the care of a lad who had
joined us at Linz in the place of his son, an exchange which we had
protested against at the time, as it was arranged at Ratisbon, that
the same people should row us the whole way to Vienna, and the father
and son were evidently the only persons who knew anything about the
navigation of the river. The old man growing apparently worse every
moment, we looked rather anxiously about for a place where we could
land, and obtain some assistance, but none presented itself before our
arrival, in sight of Nieder-Walsee; and therefore, although a mere
group of huts, above which arose the old wall and curious tower of the
Schloss, promised little in the way of accommodation, we determined to
land there, and see what could be done to set our poor pilot on his
legs again. Nieder-Walsee stands perched upon a rocky point of land,
on the right bank of the Danube, and behind it the mountains again
rear their forest-clothed heads. Upon the summit of one of the nearest
stands Strengberg, a post station, through which the high road runs
to Vienna, and from whence we enjoyed a splendid view of the Danube
on our return by land to Linz. The castle of Nieder-Walsee was built
by the same Eberhard, who erected Ober-Walsee on the Klausberg near
Aschach, and stands on the site of the old castle of Sumerau, After
the death of Reinprecht von Walsee in 1483, the castle was bought and
sold, pledged and redeemed, by various families, till, in the Seven
Years’ war, it became the property of the famous Field-marshal Daun,
from one of whose descendants it was bought in 1810, by Count Wimpfer.
A strong current runs round the point, and few boats, except those
belonging to the inhabitants, approach the shore at this place, as
there is considerable difficulty in getting back into the main stream,
out of which one is aground every two minutes upon the gravelly
shoals that rise in all directions in this part of the Danube, and can
only be avoided by keeping in the middle of what the boatmen call the
_Graben_ (the trench or channel) of the river. Not aware, however,
of this circumstance, and anxious to alleviate the sufferings of the
old steersman, we directed his locum tenens to run into the shore, a
business that was speedily effected, for we had no sooner come within
the influence of the current, than round went the head of the boat, and
in a few seconds we were brushing the bushes that hung over the steep
bank, and hurried along it far beyond the proper landing-place. Two
unfortunate discoveries were made together. The offer of a dram to the
steersman cleared up the mystery of his malady. He had had a few too
many already, and had laid down in the boat for the most excellent of
all reasons, his inability to stand; our second discovery was equally
annoying. We had got out of the stream, and the only person who was
capable of getting us cleverly back into it was hors de combat. The
rest of the crew knew as little about the matter as ourselves. As
soon as we had escaped one current we found ourselves in the power of
another, and with such force was the heavy, flat-bottomed punt we were
in driven upon the shoals, that, with all the strength we could muster
amongst us, we were sometimes ten minutes or a quarter of an hour
before we could get her afloat again; and when we had at last effected
it, round she spun, and there was her stern as fast as a church within
a dozen yards of the spot where her head had been similarly situated
two minutes before. At least an hour and a half was lost in this
amusing exercise, during which we had the gratification of seeing the
regular packet-boat that we had gotten the start of at Aschach, pass
us far to the left, and, steering clear of all obstacles, vanish into
the valley which opened between the wooded mountains in the distance.
At last, when our strength, our patience, and the reproaches we poured
rather unceremoniously on our drunken steersman were just exhausted,
and we had begun to calculate upon the probability of passing the
afternoon and evening at least upon the shoals, we found ourselves
by accident, but to our unspeakable satisfaction, once more impelled
forwards by a gentle and properly behaved current, which promised, in
the course of time, to lead us into the stream we had in evil hour
deserted.

On the left bank of the Danube below Nieder-Walsee, stand the village
of Saxen, and the Castles of Clam and Kreuzen. Saxen is mentioned as
early as 823, in which year Louis the Debonair gave to Reginhard,
Bishop of Passau, two churches at “Saxina in terra Hunnorum.” The
towers of Clam rise above a forest of pines a little behind Saxen. It
was anciently the seat of the Lords of Machland. The brother of Otto of
Machland, who founded the kloster of Baumgartenberg, was the first of
the family who signed himself “Chlamme,” A.D. 1156. On the extinction
of the family of Machland, this Burg came to the Preuschenks, and in
1487, the troops of Matthias Corvinus besieged and took it. The family
of Perger bought it in 1524, enlarged it in 1636, and took the title
of Barons and afterwards of Counts of Clamm. The great white castle
of Kreuzen, far away upon the summit of a hill to the north-west,
also belonged to the Lords of Machland, and in the twelfth century
was called Croucen and Chrutzen. In 1334, it came to the celebrated
Volkerstorfs, The Counts of Meggar bought it in 1523, and when the
Turks were devastating Upper Austria in 1526, its walls were filled
with fugitives of all ranks and ages. In 1701, it was bought by a
Count Cavariani, who sold it again almost immediately to the Count
of Salburg. The market-town of Ardagger, upon the right bank, was
given by Charlemagne to the bishopric of Passau. The Emperor Conrad
III., when setting out on his unfortunate crusade, landed here on the
29th of May, 1147, to make the necessary preparation for passing with
his fleet the then much-dreaded Strudel and Wirbel. Seventy thousand
knights, completely armed, an equal number of foot-soldiers, a troop of
females “in the armour and attitude of men,” the chief of whom, from
her gilt spurs and buskins, obtained the epithet of “The golden-footed
dame[56]”, passed down the Danube under the banners of Conrad. Two
years afterwards, a few boats, principally filled with priests who
had followed the army, returned to these shores; all that treachery,
battle, and disease had left of the mighty host that had so lately
marched in full confidence to the conquest of Asia!

A sudden bend of the river near this spot, brought us again amongst
the mountains, and in a moment we seemed shut out from the world by
the craggy barriers that rose on each side of us,--the counterparts of
those I have attempted to describe in the wild gorge of the Schlägen.
After passing a few lonely huts, perched here and there amongst the
masses of rock and forest, the chateau and town of Grein started at
once into view, on turning a sharp and craggy point, cradled amongst
the precipices which, opening behind the town, form a vista, terminated
by the castle of Kreuzen on its distant hill. Grein is one of the
poorest and smallest towns in Upper Austria, and the chateau is a
large, gloomy building, originally built by Heinrich von Chreine, in
the twelfth century. Frederick the Handsome, Duke of Austria, pledged
Grein for five hundred and sixty-two silver pfennige, to Albert von
Volkerstorf, May 14th, 1308. The valiant Bernhard von Scherffenberg
beat the Bohemians here twice, during the fifteenth century; at the
close of which it was bought of the Emperor Maximilian by one of the
family of Prueschenk. Heinrich von Prueschenk rebuilt the chateau, and
from this circumstance it received the name of Heinrichsburg.

The traveller now approaches the most extraordinary scene on the long
Danube, from its source in the Black Forest, to its mouth in the Black
Sea. As soon as a bend of the river has shut out the view of Grein and
its chateau, a mass of rock and castle, scarcely distinguishable from
each other, appears to rise in the middle of the stream before you. The
flood roars and rushes round each side of it; and ere you can perceive
which way the boat will take, it dashes down a slight fall to the
left, struggles awhile with the waves, and then sweeps round between
two crags, on which are the fragments of old square towers, with
crucifixes planted before them. It has scarcely righted itself from
this first shock, when it is borne rapidly forward towards an immense
block of stone, on which stands a third tower, till now hidden by the
others, and having at its foot a dangerous eddy. The boat flashes like
lightning through the tossing waves, within a few feet of the vortex,
and comes immediately into still water, leaving the passenger who
beholds this scene for the first time, mute with wonder and admiration.
These are the Scylla and Charybdis of the Danube, the celebrated
Strudel and Wirbel. The passage is made in little more than the time
it takes to read the above brief description, and I could scarcely
scratch down the outlines of these curious crags and ruins, before
I was whirled to some distance beyond them. I must beg my reader,
however, to return with me, and repass them more leisurely, than the
impatient stream would permit us. The Danube, checked in its northern
course at Grein, and driven unwillingly towards the east, vents its
fury against the opposing crags on the left bank, and having broken
down part of the barrier, rides over the ruins in triumph, forming what
is called, by the boatmen, the Grein-Schwall. After this ebullition of
anger, the stream appears to sink into sullen indifference, and slowly
and silently pursues its way through a gloomy gorge of precipices, that
rise higher and higher on each side of it, till it arrives within a few
yards of the Wörthinsel, an island, about four hundred fathoms long,
and two hundred broad, surrounded by sand-banks on all sides except
the north, where a perpendicular crag starts up, bearing on its crest
the ruins of the Wöther-Schloss, or Castle of Werfenstein[57]. From
 this island to the rocky shores of the Danube, which here open and
form a kind of circle around it, run several chains of crags beneath
the water; some indeed peering above it, over and through which the
stream rushes right and left, with considerable violence and uproar.
The right arm is called the Hössgang, and is only passable when the
water is very high, by the smallest and lightest craft. The main body
hurries round the northern or left side of the island, and boiling
over the first chain of rocks, falls through three separate channels,
a depth of three feet in a distance of four hundred and eighty. This
fall is called the Strudel; but the boatmen have a name for each
channel, and call that one in particular the Strudel which is nearest
to the north shore of the island: the centre channel is called the
Wildriss; and the third, nearest the main bank, the Waldwasser[58]. The
three principal crags which, standing in the entrance of these three
channels, form part of the bank or bar, over which the water falls into
them, have also their particular names; that in the entrance to the
Strudel is called the Bomben-Gehäkel, or Buma-G’hachelt; the next, the
Wildriss-Gehäkel, and the third, the Wald-Gehäkel,--the term Gehäkel
or G’hachelt distinguishing the crags, the points of which generally
appear above the surface, from those which lie beneath it, and which
are called Kogeln or Kugeln. There are nearly a dozen of these Kogeln
in the passage of the Strudel, the principal of which are named the
Marchkugel, the Wolfskugel, and the Maisenkugel; and one, from its
particular formation, the Dreyspitze. These lie in various directions,
in the entrance and middle of the channels. At the outlet of the
Wildriss there is a reef of rock called the Ross, the principal crag in
which is named the Rosskopf; another reef, called the Felsengelander,
lies at the end of the Waldwasser, beside which are two rocks called
the Keller and the Hute. Some of these, at low water, are not more than
two feet beneath the surface, and impassable, of course, by a boat of
any size or burden.

It may easily be supposed that a stream like the Danube does not flow
very quietly over so rugged a bed, and though considerable masses of
rock have been blown up, and the channels otherwise much widened and
deepened within the last fifty years, there are still obstacles enough
to fret and agitate the river to a degree which gives at least an
appearance of danger to the passage, if even there be not a little in
reality. At the end of the fall, or Strudel, on the left, and of the
Hössgang on the right, the rocky shores again approach each other, and
the river, uniting its currents, sweeps rapidly round to the north
beneath a jutting crag, upon which stands the ruins of the castle of
Struden, and washes the walls of the little town of the same name. The
castle belonged anciently to the lords of Machland, and after them to
the Archdukes of Austria. In 1413, the Archdukes Leopold and Ernest
gave the “Feste haus ze Struden” to one Hans Greisenecker, who already
possessed the Castle of Werfenstein, for “a consideration;” and in
1493, the brothers Heinrich and Sigmund Prueschenk bought both castles
from the House of Austria, to which they had reverted.

About a thousand yards below Struden, but near the right bank of the
river, rises the large block of stone called the Hausstein, upon
which are the ruins of the tower of the same name; round the southern
side of this block struggles a small arm of the Danube, called the
Lueg, and navigable like the Hössgang, when the water is very high,
by small boats only. On the northern side is the celebrated whirlpool
(Der Wirbel), formed most probably by the violence with which the
two currents of the Danube are hurled against each other on leaving
the Wörthinsel, and again checked and divided by the Hausstein. This
whirlpool measures sometimes nearly fifty feet in diameter; but when
we passed it, it did not, I should think, exceed fifteen. In the
centre the water forms a perfect funnel, and a large branch of fir was
whirling round and round in it, as if some invisible hand were stirring
the natural cauldron, and making it “boil and bubble.” All sorts of
extravagant stories have of course been circulated respecting this
dreaded vortex, which is gravely affirmed by some of the old writers to
have no bottom. Munster, in his Kosmographie, printed at Basle in 1567,
says, “They have often sounded in this place, but the abyss is so deep
that they can touch no ground. It is bottomless. What falls therein,
remains under and never comes up again.”--b. III. sam. 965. This writer
also confounds the Strudel with the Wirbel.[59]

Father Kircher vows there is a hole underneath the Wirbel, which sucks
in the waters of the Danube, and a subterranean channel connected with
it, by which the said water is conveyed into Hungary, where it rises
again, and forms the Plattensee or Lake of Balaton! Others claim the
same origin for the Lake of Neusiedle[60], and to clinch the fable,
which is still reverently believed by the Hungarians, assert, that a
travelling cooper, who lost some of his tools in the Wirbel, absolutely
found them again floating on the surface of the Neusiedler-see.

Happelius, as in support of this hypothesis, says, “it is well known
that the Danube loses a considerable quantity of its waters in the
Wirbel, so that its flood is of much less consequence from that spot
down to Vienna,” a falsehood which a glance at the river is capable at
once of refuting.

There can be no doubt that, in earlier ages, there must have been
considerable danger in passing these falls and eddies;  and even now,
when the water is low, an inexperienced or careless steersman might
easily get the bottom of his boat knocked out in the Strudel, or its
side staved in by the crags of the Hausstein, under either of which
circumstances the passengers would stand a very fair chance of being
drowned. I cannot help thinking our own rather a narrow escape, for
my readers will recollect that, on leaving Nieder-Walsee, our worthy
pilot was lying dead drunk in the stern of the boat. To our utter
astonishment, however, upon approaching the Grein-Schwall, he managed
to get upon his legs, and, as if sobered for the moment by a sudden
sense of his own situation, snatched the rudder from the boy (who in
a few minutes would certainly have had us upon the rocks), steered us
manfully and cleverly through the Strudel and Wirbel, and then flung
himself down again on his straw as drunk and insensible as before. Had
we been aware of the vicinity of these places, we should certainly have
taken a pilot on board at Ardagger, but we had no idea we were so near
them, and the poor fellows who rowed us were altogether ignorant of
the river, and merely working their way to Vienna. The passage was,
however, made before we had time to think of our danger, almost indeed
before we knew where we were; and absorbed in contemplation of the
romantic beauty of the scene, nothing short of absolute foundering
could, I believe, have distracted our attention from it. Riesbeck,
after a brief description of this spot, says, “a great variety of
circumstances concur to excite an idea of danger in both these parts of
the Danube. Low mechanics are fond of speaking of them, and magnifying
the danger, that they may increase their own importance in having gone
through it. Others, more simple, who come to the place with strong
conceits of what they are to meet with there, are so struck with the
wildness of the prospect, and the roaring of the water, that they begin
to quake and tremble before they have seen any thing. But the masters
of the vessels are those who most effectually keep up the imposition.
They make the passage a pretence for raising the price of the freight,
and when you are past them the steersman goes round with his hat in
his hand to collect money from the passengers as a reward for having
conducted them safely through such perilous spots. When our master (who
yet very well knew how much it was for his interest to keep up the
credit of his monsters) saw how little attention I paid to them, he
assured me in confidence that _during the twenty years he had sailed
the Danube, he had not heard of a single accident_.” This account was
written in 1780, and yet only three years before, (on the 31st of
October 1777,) two vessels struck, one on the Wolfs-Kugel, and the
other on the Maisenkugel, and went to pieces. In 1749, a Schiffmeister
of Passau, named Freidenberger, perished with his daughter in the
whirlpool, and another Schiffmeister, Martin Beyerl, of Vienna, was
drowned in it, at the commencement of the century.

The danger has certainly, however, been much diminished by the
exertions of the Austrian government, which, besides having
considerably widened and deepened the channels of the Strudel and
Hössgang, by blowing up the rocks and removing the sand, has instituted
sundry prudent regulations respecting the navigation of this part of
the Danube. All boats ascending the river when the water is only of a
certain height, are obliged to stop at the little town of Struden till
information is sent to Grein and the Saurüssel, at both which places a
flag is immediately hoisted to give notice to any vessels descending
the stream, that one is coming up through the Strudel, and so prevent
the collision that would be likely to take place should they attempt
to pass it in contrary directions at the same time, the descending
vessel being compelled, under a heavy penalty, to lay to, above the
rock called the Rabenstein, till the other has passed. Also when the
water is of a sufficient height to enable the ascending boats to pass
through the southern channels of the Lueg and the Hössgang, the horses
keep the towing-path on the right bank from Ips to Wiessen, a small
place facing Grein. But when the water is low, the horses are ferried
three times across the river in the short distance of 1200 yards; first
below the Wirbel, from the right bank over to the left; then from the
town of Struden to the Wörthinsel; and lastly, from the western end of
that island over the Hössgang, back again to the right bank, under the
Rabenstein.

As soon as you have passed the Wirbel, a boat puts off from the little
town of St. Nikola on the left bank, and paddling alongside, a man
holds out a box with the figure of the saint in it for the “voluntary
contributions” of the passengers, who are expected to drop a few
kreutzers in acknowledgment of the protection that has been so kindly
afforded them by his saintship. On board the regular passage-boat,
money is also collected by the steersman as Riesbeck describes, and
another ceremony likewise takes place, something similar to that
customary on board a ship when passing the line. The steersman goes
round with the wooden scoop or shovel, with which they wet the ropes
that bind the paddles to their uprights, filled with water; and those
who have never before passed through the Strudel and the Wirbel must
either pay or be well soused with the element, the perils of which they
have just escaped.

In 1144, Beatrix of Klamm founded an hospital at St. Nikola for
travellers on the Danube, which she so richly endowed, that Albert of
Austria, two hundred years later, found it only necessary to provide
for the spiritual welfare of its visitants, and therefore established a
daily mass with the money collected on the river from Ardagger to Ips,
in the manner above mentioned.

There were formerly two other towers or fortresses in the
neighbourhood; the ruins of one still exist on the northern bank of the
river, nearly facing the Wirbel, on the rock called the Langen-Stein.
The other was, as early as the twelfth century, spoken of as “the
ruined castle of the noble Lady Helchin,” and not a fragment of it is
now remaining. An old story, which I shall shortly have occasion to
transcribe, speaks of the tower called “Der Teufelsthurm,” (the Devil’s
Tower) but whether either of the four still standing have a claim to
that respectable appellation or no, is a question at present undecided.
It is accorded by some writers to the Castle of Werfenstein.

The gorge through which the river now flows calmly and silently as
it had never been ruffled, is of the same description as that from
Hayenbach to Neuhaus, but the mountains that line its shores are still
higher, and often

  “Their lofty crests are capped with snow,
  While blossoms deck the vale below.”

So deep is the water, and so steady the stream, that boats of any
burden may drift down it in the darkest night with perfect safety. We
now floated past the old round tower of Sarblingstein, standing on a
pedestal of granite, above a little group of houses, beside which the
rivulet of Sarbling brawls through a woody ravine over the rocky bank
into the Danube. The tower is all that remains of a fortress built by
the Monks of Waldhausen in 1538, with the permission of the Emperor
Ferdinand, upon the express condition that it should be considered an
asylum for the inhabitants of the neighbourhood in case of invasion or
civil war. Hirschau, close under Sarblingstein, is the last hamlet in
Upper Austria, or Austria on the Ens. Opposite it on the right bank are
the scarcely visible remains of the castle of Hirschau, and further
east, upon the mountain top, lie the extensive ruins of Freystein,
formerly one of the largest and strongest castles in Austria. At the
close of the fourteenth century, it belonged to the famous Reinprecht
von Walsee, and after him to the families of Preuschenk and Zinzendorf.
The Prince of Starrhemberg also once possessed it. Near this spot two
valleys open to the south-west, and from thence the granite is brought
with which the streets of Vienna are paved. The labourers employed
to blast the rocks and work the quarries live close by in the little
village of Dörfel; beside which the rivulet Isper, the Hyspere of
the middle ages, rippling through a narrow valley, forms the line of
boundary northward between Upper and Lower Austria.

The sun went down and the mountains seemed to sink with it, or melt
into the mists that crept around them. The valley of the Danube
widened,--a large building rose on the left bank, upon the end of a
rocky promontory, throwing a deeper gloom over the darkening waters,
its lofty tower piercing through the low vapours and soaring into
the clear, star-spangled sky above them--it was Schloss Bösenbeug,
the summer residence of the Emperor, and one of the oldest buildings
in Lower Austria, though the alterations made during the last century
by its then possessors, the Herren von Hoyos, have taken much from
the antique appearance of its exterior[61]. Nearly facing it on the
right bank stood the small chateau of Donaudorf, and beyond these two
buildings, the river opened to the right and left, in the same manner
that it did below Neuhaus. A multitude of lights glimmering amidst a
black mass of houses and huts, and reflected in long trembling lines
upon the water, pointed out to us the town of Ips, similarly situated
to that of Aschach. The Castle of Bosenbeug or Persenbeug belonged
in the ninth century to that Count Engelschalk who carried off the
daughter of Arnulph the Bastard, and afterwards lost his eyes and his
estates by the sentence of the Diet at Ratisbon, as has been already
described in  the notice of Ebelsberg near Linz: Nearly all the
confiscated property of Engelschalk was given by Arnulph to the monks
of Kremsmünster; but, curiously enough, this Castle of Bösenbeug,
by a train of circumstances, eluded for a long time the clutches of
“holy mother Church,” who laboured indefatigably, “by hook or by
_crook_,” to get it into her possession. How it escaped her grasp
in the ninth century is not clear, but it certainly did do so, and
became the property of the valiant Bavarian Sieghart von Sempt, to
whom probably it was given as a stronghold, that would enable him
better to defend the duchy against the inroads of the Hungarians.
Sieghart fell gloriously in the execution of his trust, A.D. 907, in
the terrible battle fought between Theben and Haimburg. To work of
course went the monks, and at length so wrought upon the mind of one of
his weak descendants, Albert III.; that he bequeathed to them at his
death “the strong castle of Bösenbeug,” in despite of the entreaties
of his wife Richlinde, or Richlita, who strove to preserve it to the
next male heir, her nephew Welf von Altorf. The breath was scarcely
out of the body of Albert, when a desperate struggle ensued between
his widow and the monks of Ebersberg. The lady had taken up her
residence in the castle, which she claimed as part of her jointure,
with reversion to her nephew Welf, and refused to acknowledge the title
of the church, which she contended had been fraudulently acquired.
In the midst of this dispute, a circumstance took place which shall
be related as nearly as possible in the words of the old chronicler
Aventine. “The Emperor” (Henry III. surnamed the Black) “departed from
Regensburg and came by water to Passau: there he tarried during the
Passion week; and till the holy feast of the Ascension. The next day
after which he again took water; and journeyed into Lower Bavaria, as
Austria was then called. There is a town in Austria by name Grein;
near this town is a perilous place in the Danube, called the Strudel
by Stockerau[62]. There doth one hear the water rushing far and wide,
so falls it over the rocks with a great foam, which is very dangerous
to pass through, and brings the vessel into a whirlpool, rolling round
about. The Emperor Henry went down through the Strudel; in another
vessel was Bruno, bishop of Wurtzburg, the Emperor’s kinsman; and as
the bishop also was passing through the Strudel, there sat upon a
rock that projected out of the water, a man blacker than a Moor, of a
horrible aspect, terrible to all who beheld it, who cried out and said
to bishop Bruno, ‘Hear! hear! bishop! I am thine evil spirit! thou art
mine own, go where thou wilt, thou shalt be mine, yet now I will do
nought to thee, but soon shalt thou see me again[63].’ All who heard
this were terrified. The bishop crossed and blessed himself, said a few
prayers, and the spirit vanished. This rock is shewn to this day; upon
it is built  a small tower all of stone, without any wood: it has no
roof, and is called the Devil’s Tower. Not far from thence, some two
miles journey, the Emperor and his people landed, purposing to pass
the night in a town called Pösenbeiss, belonging to the Lady Richlita,
widow of the Count Adalbero von Ebersberg. She received the Emperor
joyfully; invited him to a banquet, and prayed him, besides, that
he would bestow the town of Pösenbeiss and other surrounding places
(that her husband had possessed and governed) on her brother’s son,
Welforic III. The Emperor entered the banquet-room, and standing near
Bishop Bruno, Count Aleman von Ebersberg and the Lady Richlita, gave
the countess his right hand and granted her prayer. At that moment the
floor of the apartment fell in, and the Emperor fell through into the
bathing-chamber below it, without sustaining any injury, as did also
Count Aleman, and the Lady Richlita, but the bishop fell on the edge
of the bathing-tub, broke his ribs, and died a few days afterwards.”
Other writers say, that the Count and the Lady Richlita both died from
the hurts they received; but be that as it may, the right heir was,
according to the Emperor’s promise, established at Bösenbeug, A.D.
1045, in spite of the intrigues and plots of the monks, whose agents
had frightened and killed the poor bishop, he having, as it appears,
spoken a good word for the lady, who is supposed also to have fallen a
victim to the same scandalous trick, copied most likely from a similar
tragical farce played off by the celebrated St. Dunstan, about seventy
years before, in England. Some time afterwards the monks renewed their
claim in applications to the Markgraves Albert I. and Leopold III., but
without success, the latter, in 1096, giving the castle to his youngest
daughter, Richardis. Thus foiled, they went on a new tack, and managed
to persuade the husband of this Princess, Count Stephaning, to join
the first crusade, in the hope that he would never return, and that
Bösenbeug would at length become their property. Half of the charitable
wish was granted.

           “Audiit, et voti Phœbus succedere partem
           Mente dedit: partem volucris dispersit in auras.”

The bones of the poor crusader whitened the deserts of Syria, but his
castle reverted to the Markgraves of Austria. Ottocar, king of Bohemia,
gave it in 1271 to the patriarch of Aquileia; but in the reign of the
Emperor Albert I. we find it again in the possession of the house of
Austria. The Emperor Frederick IV. took possession of it as guardian
of Ladislaus, but he was ejected by force of arms in 1457, and the
castle given back to Ladislaus. Rudolph II. pledged and afterwards sold
it, with Rohreck, Weinberg, and the whole Isperthal, to the Barons of
Hoyos, from which family it was repurchased by the present emperor in
1801. The tilt-yard is still in good preservation, and the gardens
are beautiful. His Majesty is very partial to the spot, and makes
frequent excursions by land as far as the Strudel and Wirbel, from
whence he returns in the boat of a schiffmeister at Bösenbeug of the
name of Feldmüller, whom he patronizes highly, and who is considered
the richest man of his calling in Lower Austria. He builds yearly about
twenty of the boats called kellheimers, and employs one hundred horses
and three hundred men. Most of the inhabitants of the little markt of
Bösenbeug have, as may be supposed, considerably benefited from its
becoming an Imperial residence.

The town of Ips or Yps, as it is indifferently spelt, on the opposite
bank, is supposed by some old geographers to be the Usbium of Ptolemy,
by others the Pons Isidis. It is seated at the confluence of a river of
the same name with the Danube; and, in the time of Charlemagne, appears
under the name of Ibesse and Isebruch, as the property of the Counts of
Sempt and Ebersberg. In 1275, Ips threw open its gates to Rudolph of
Hapsburg; and, in 1741, the Bavarian and French armies here formed a
junction: its name has, however, become familiar to foreign lands, not
from the deeds of arms done in its neighbourhood, but from its having
shared with Passau the trade in the crucibles made at Hafner-zell;
and which, as I have before mentioned, are distinguished throughout
the world by the names of the places where they are sold, instead of
that of the spot where they are fabricated. Immediately below Ips, the
river forms a reach, which, from the difficulty of its navigation,
obtained the appellation that has eventually attached itself to the
point of land at which it commences,--Die Böse-Beug, literally, “the
bad corner.” Before we turned this corner, however, night had sunk down
upon land and flood, and our crew began to be clamorous for rest and
refreshment. Our drunken beast of a steersman, whom we had now begun
cordially to detest, insisted upon proceeding as far as Marbach; and
accordingly the men, who knew nothing of the river, pulled away again
for a quarter of an hour rather sulkily; when, having lost sight of
the lights of Ips, and seeing none appear in the distance, they again
expressed symptoms of impatience, and upon receiving from a passing
boat the information that Marbach was yet “eine starke stunde” (a
long hour) distant, they became outrageous, and vowed they would run
the boat ashore, at the first village they could discover. Neither my
companion nor myself much objected to their determination, as there
was every probability, from their utter ignorance of the river, the
inability of the steersman to direct them, and the heavy fog that
was fast rising, that in the course of a few minutes we should go
bump ashore somewhere, whether we would or no; and therefore a hovel,
where bed and supper might be procured, was certainly preferable to a
sandbank without either. Two or three tapers glimmering above the fog
through something like windows, attracting our notice on the left, the
men pulled towards it, and our boat soon grated on the sand, under what
first appeared a lofty wall, but which turned out, on examination, a
steep bank, upon the ridge of which stood half a dozen poor cottages.
Up we clambered on all fours, dragging our cloaks and portmanteaus
with us; and a man making his appearance with a lantern, we followed
him into an old crazy-looking hovel, which, by the outward and visible
sign of a dead bush dangling over its door, too plainly indicated the
miserable state of its inward and spiritual grace, though dignified by
the title of a gasthaus[64]. Several sufficiently ill-looking fellows
in jackets of undressed black sheep-skin, caps  of the same material,
and high boots, each with a formidable clasp-knife, worn as an English
carpenter wears his rule; two brawny, bare-armed, masculine wenches in
similar jackets, with dark handkerchiefs bound round their brows in the
Austrian fashion; and an old hag, whose habits and person were equally
indescribable, formed the rather startling group to which our guide
introduced us. Our application for beds appeared to astonish them. They
had no such thing; there was plenty of straw. They had no coffee, no
butter;--the poor fellows who had rowed us sat down on a bench, and
began to gnaw some dry bread, the only refreshment the _hotel_ seemed
capable of furnishing. On a sudden it occurred to us that a basin of
boiled milk might be procurable, and sure enough half a gallon, at
least, of delicious milk was in ten minutes smoking in two glorious
wooden bowls, upon the long oaken table before us. Our host now entered
with one or two helpers laden with straw, which they spread all over
the floor, and our crew, having finished their crusts, stretched
themselves out in a row, their knapsacks under their heads, and soon
commenced a nasal symphony, more powerful than harmonious. The company
and the family having one by one withdrawn, with the exception of the
old beldame, who waited to take away the solitary candle, we betook
ourselves also to our portion of the straw, and never in my life did I
enjoy a sweeter, sounder sleep than that which bound up my senses in
the humble gasthaus of Gottsdorf till six o’clock the next morning.


                        FOOTNOTES (CHAPTER VI.)

[56] Gibbon.--William of Tyre and Matthew Paris reckon seventy thousand
loricati in each of the armies led by Conrad and the French king,
Louis VII. The light-armed troops, the peasant infantry, the women
and children, and the priests and monks, swelled this swarm to an
inconceivable extent. “It is affirmed by the Greeks and Latins, that in
the passage of a strait or river, the Byzantine agents, after a tale
of nine hundred thousand, desisted from the endless and formidable
computation.”--_Decline and Fall_, vol. xl. p. 107.

[57] This little square tower, which is generally called, from its
situation, the Wörther-Schloss, is described in several topographical
works indifferently under the name of the Castle of Werfenstein, and
the Castle of Struden. But it being clearly apparent from various
ancient documents that the Castles of Werfenstein and Struden were
two distinct buildings, Herr Schultes has, I think, with good reason,
designated this the ruin of Werfenstein, and that which overhangs the
little markt of Struden, on the left bank of the river, the Castle of
Struden.

[58] The Waldwasser and the Wildriss, like the Hössgang, are never
passable but when the water is very high, and then only by the lightest
and smallest craft. The Strudel, though most studded with rocks, is the
best, and consequently the general passage for all boats and rafts,
either ascending or descending, and has therefore given its name to the
whole fall.

[59] A singular ignorance of the true situation of these famous
places is displayed by most of the German writers. Berckenmayer, in
his Curiösen Antiquarius, carries the Wirbel below the town of Krems,
and he is followed in his error by Strahlenberg, in his Beschreibung
des Russichen Reiches, and Hübner, in his Vollständigen Geographie,
who speak of the Wirbel as a _waterfall_ near Krems. From Hübner this
mistake has been copied into several geographical works, and amongst
others into the old Zeitung’s Lexicon; and many of the modern German,
and even some English travellers speak of the Strudel and Wirbel as one
and the same thing, a confusion which nothing but utter carelessness
could have created; the first being distinctly a fall, and the second
an eddy, each remarkable in itself, and at some little distance from
the other.

[60] “Inter alios (vortices) famosus ille est, qui aspicitur sub
Lincio. Creditur vulgo origo esse lacus Neusidel in Hungaria
Cis-Rahabanti. Aspicitur etiam alter sed hoc minor, prope pagum Almas
infra Commaronium, qui perhibetur esse origo lacus Balaton.”--Marsigli
Danubiani illustr. See also Herbinius de Cataract. Fluv., and Kircher’s
Mundus subterraneus.

[61] Vide Frontispiece. The view was taken from a hill on the right
bank of the river, on our return by land from Vienna.

[62] Here is another error respecting the Strudel. Stockerau is nearly
two days journey from it, in the neighbourhood of Vienna.

[63]
     “_Brutus._  Speak to me what thou art?
      Ghost.     _Thy evil spirit, Brutus._
      _Brutus._  Why com’st thou?
      Ghost.     _To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi._
      _Brutus._  _Well, Then I shall see thee again?_
      Ghost.     _Ay, at Philippi!_”

                            Julius Cæsar, Act iv. Scene 3.

[64] A _gast-haus_ is an hotel; a _wirths-haus_, a tavern, or ale-house.




                             CHAPTER VII.

 Marbach.--Maria-Taferl.--Pechlarn.--Wiedeneck.--Mölk.--Lubereck.--The
 Valley of the Wachau.--Schönbühel.--Aggstein.--The
 Teufel’s-Mauer.--Spitz, and the Ruin of
 Hinterhaus.--Church and Village of St. Michel.--Castle
 of Dürrenstein.--Narrow escape of Marshal Mortier during
 the Campaign of 1805.--Mautern.--Stein.--Krems.--Kloster
 Göttweih.--Trasenmauer.--Arrival at Tuln.


We had now been three days upon the water, during which time scarcely
a cloud had speckled the deep blue of the sky. As the first light
of morning, however, struggled through the little dingy casement of
our humble hotel, we were disagreeably surprised at finding that the
fog, which had risen the previous evening after sunset, still rolled
heavily along the river, and threatened to continue the greater part,
if not the whole of the day. We were still nearly two days’ journey
from Vienna, and a change of weather, which might be portended by this
unwelcome visitant, would probably make it four, five, or even six,
before we could reach the capital, to say nothing of the disagreeables
it would bring in its train. At the risk of losing the beauty of the
prospect, therefore, we urged our immediate departure, but here we
were met by a new difficulty. Our drunken steersman, who had lain all
night in the boat, was now ill in _sober_ sadness, and quite incapable
of steering us. A new pilot was to be found, and, after much parley
and delay, our host of the gasthaus signified his consent to take the
helm; but the fog, instead of dispersing, as we had faintly hoped,
with the rising sun, appeared to increase in density; and not one of
our boatmen could be prevailed on to trust himself afloat in it. After
at least another hour’s delay, and considerable altercation, by dint
of a little money, and promise of more, we induced three out of the
four to venture on board, and, about eight o’clock, pushed off into
the fog, by this time quite as thick, though not so yellow, as that
which pervades Lombard Street on a November afternoon. Fortunately this
part of the Danube is not fertile in fine views. The small village
of Barthub and Mössling, on the left, and Hinterhaus, and the two
Agens, on the right, have nothing to recommend them, either in a
picturesque or historical point of view; and the distant prospect of
Maria-Taferl we had afterwards an opportunity of enjoying. The river,
from Bösenbeug and Ips, makes a bold sweep to the south as far as
Säusenstein, that stands on a small promontory on the right bank, round
which its waters boil and foam, and form what, in earlier times, was
called the Charybdis Pogica. The ruin here is of a very late date. It
was a mansion belonging to some ecclesiastic, and burned by the French
in the last war. The Cistercian convent near it, called St. Lorenz
in the Gottesthal, was founded by Eberhard von Walsee, in 1336. In
the fifteenth century, it was attacked and plundered by some of the
knightly robbers who infested the neighbourhood, and who are termed
“_fratres hostiles_” in the old chronicles. The tombs of the family of
Walsee, which became extinct in 1483, are still in existence here. On
that of Reinprecht, the last of his race, is simply his motto, “Thue
Recht,” with the words beneath it, “periisti amor,” in allusion to the
termination of the feud between the Houses of Walsee and Schaumberg.
All this; at least, says Herr Schultes, who had the advantage of
visiting this spot in clearer weather--we saw neither ruin nor convent,
nor tombs; but what we did see near this place was equally picturesque
and striking. The sound of voices chaunting a kind of hymn, stole
faintly on our ears, and, as it became more distinct, a boat appeared,
like a phantom, in the fog, crowded with pilgrims, on their way to
Marbach and Maria-Taferl. They were principally women, and sat huddled
together round a priest, who, bare-headed, supported a crucifix, and
occasionally chimed in, in a deep bass voice, with the quavering
trebles of his companions. For a few minutes, they floated beside us,
and then gradually melted again into the mist, as though they had been
creatures of it, the hymn dying away in the distance.

Before we reached Marbach, the fog, to our great gratification, had
evidently begun to disperse. It still covered the face of the water,
but the blue sky was visible above it; and the sun, occasionally
breaking through it, gave us a glimpse of this or that bank, according
to the situation of the boat. The Markt of Marbach existed as early,
at least, as the thirteenth century, as, in 1208, we hear of the
Knights of Marbach. Almost every house in the place is an inn, as,
lying under the lofty mountain, on which stands the most celebrated
place of pilgrimage in Lower Austria--the church of Maria-Taferl, it is
of course the place of rendezvous for the countless devotees who swarm
from all parts of the empire to that holy shrine. The inhabitants of
Vienna, in the middle of September, come on horseback, in every kind of
vehicle, and even on foot, hundreds in a day, and return by the Danube.
A great traffic is also carried on with these pious personages in
crosses, amulets, rosaries, and holy images, pictures and books of all
descriptions, by the inhabitants of Marbach; besides which, a number of
beggars reside here, each of whom has his or her regular standing upon
the path winding up the hill to the Maria-Taferl; and spend duly every
evening, in eating and drinking, the large sums they have collected
during the day. It has been calculated that upwards of a million and a
half of florins are annually expended here; and the minister of the
place told Herr Schultes that one year he himself had counted 135,000
pilgrims. A proverbial rhyme tends also much to the well doing of the
inhabitants of Marbach:

  “Wer nach Maria Taferl ein Wallfahrt maken thut
   Diess ihm Maria Taferl macht aller wiedergut:”

which may be rendered,--

  Who to Maria Taferl a pilgrimage hath ta’en,
  To him Maria Taferl shall make all good again.

Expense, therefore, is the last thing considered; and the spirit of
extravagance extends itself even to the townspeople, who lavish, in the
pride of their well-filled purses, ridiculous sums upon the decoration
of their houses, so that, according to another German proverb, says
Schultes,--

  “Was durch das Pfeifchen kommt, geht durch die Trommel davon.”

   What comes through the fife goes away through the drum.

Our new steersman put into this little markt to buy some beer and
bread; and the fog now rolling off in broken masses, enabled us to
get a peep at the town, which seemed a strange jumble of alehouses
and chapels, signs and crucifixes, all very gaily and fantastically
painted, and forming, in short, a most consistent trysting-place for
“_publicans_ and sinners.”

Maria-Taferl is to the pious Austrian what Maria-Einsiedel is to the
Roman Catholic Swabian, and Maria-Oetting to the Bavarian of the same
persuasion. The lovers of an extensive and beautiful prospect may, for
an hour’s climbing, enjoy, from the summit of the mountain on which
it stands, a splendid panorama of the Danube and great part of Lower
Austria, the Alps of the Steyermark, and the whole chain of mountains
from the lofty Schneeberg in the Wiener-Wald, to the frontier of
Bavaria. The history of this celebrated place of pilgrimage may be
bought for two kreutzers, a great deal more than it is worth, but that
it is amusing and instructive to see how grossly the Roman Catholic
priesthood are yet permitted to gull an ignorant, and consequently
superstitious people.

The precious document sets forth with stating the well-known fact of
the existence, from time immemorial, of a venerable oak-tree on the
top of the mountain, in which was placed a figure of the crucified
Redeemer. To this spot the inhabitants of Klein-Pechlarn, a small
village in the neighbourhood, used to repair every Easter Monday to put
up their petitions for a fine harvest, and, after hearing the service
chaunted, sat down at a stone table before the church-door, and ate,
drank, and were merry; from whence arose the name of Maria-_Taferl_,
or Mary of the Table. In 1662, a herdsman, either from ignorance or
wantonness, attempted to hew down the sacred tree, on which age had
already heavily laid its withering and deforming hand. At the first
blow, however, the axe recoiled so violently, that it sprung from his
grasp and wounded one of his feet severely. Unchecked by this warning,
however, he made a second blow, when it again recoiled with still more
violence, and desperately wounded his other foot[65]. The profane
herdman, now lifting up his eyes in agony, observed the crucifix, and
struck with remorse, craved pardon of God for his impiety; upon which
the blood stopped of its own accord, and his wounds healed immediately,
without surgical or any human assistance! Ten years after this
miraculous occurrence, a man named Alexander Schinnagel, who suffered
under a deep and distressing melancholy, which he could not shake off,
came, by heaven directed, to the house of a schoolmaster, who had in
his chamber an image of the Virgin, called a Vesperbild. Schinnagel
bought the image, and carried it home. In the middle of the night,
he heard “a still small voice,” saying, “Wouldst thou be cured, take
the image, and place it in the oak at Maria-Taferl.” Accordingly, at
day-break, up rose Alexander, and proceeded with his purchase to the
mountain-top, where he placed it as directed, taking down at the same
time the crucifix, which age and exposure to the weather had nearly
destroyed.. Immediately his melancholy left him, and he returned home
a merry, and, we hope, a grateful man. Since that period the angels
themselves have frequently visited the sacred spot. On the 17th of
June, 1658, a most credible (credulous?) personage saw a snow white
and luminous apparition, in mid-day, before the holy effigy. In 1659,
three persons, equally worthy of belief, saw a whole troop of angels,
in white garments, and in processional order, on their way to the
Vesperbild. Another time, when forty people were collected together in
its neighbourhood, three of them saw an angelical procession in the
air, and three bright stars of remarkable magnitude immediately above
the figure. Again, a procession of white-clothed personages was seen by
eight or ten people, the leading apparition bearing a red cross; and
shortly afterwards a wax taper was suddenly observed burning before
the Vesperbild. In 1661, many other angelical phantoms were seen by
sometimes thirty, and once by a hundred people at a time, all of
them most respectable and credible witnesses, whose testimonies were
registered, signed, and sworn to before the competent authorities![66]

As the vapours, which had till now enveloped us, began rapidly to yield
to the power of the sun, and were swept in masses by the fresh breeze
of morning from the bright face of the river and the fair hills beside
it, disclosing the rich and beautiful prospect that opened upon us with
the widening valley, smiling in warmth and light; it was impossible to
suppress the remark, commonplace as it may be considered, that, thus,
at no very distant period, would the mists of error and superstition
fly before the increasing influence of knowledge and truth, and man,
awaking to the contemplation of the sublime paths they enlighten,
“Look,” full of hope, joy, and gratitude, “through Nature, up to
nature’s God!”

Albert IV., Duke of Austria, whose journey to the Holy Land gave rise
to so many romantic stories, that he obtained the appellation of the
“wonder of the world,” resided for some time at Marbach, in the valley
of All Saints, with the Carthusians: “with them,” says a contemporary,
“he attends matins, reads the lessons, makes inclinations,
genuflexions, observes ceremonies, confessions and prayers. He not
only joins them in the performance of divine service in the choir, but
affords an example of humility by frequenting the Chapter-house. In a
word, he calls himself brother Albert, and considers himself in every
respect as one of the order[67].”

So few travellers ever think of taking a boat to themselves, that we
were hailed at Marbach, as an _ordinari-schiff_[68], by three poor
women who wanted to go to Vienna. Having plenty of room to spare, we
consented to their coming on board, which they accordingly did with
their baskets and bundles sans cérémonie, imagining that they should
have to pay the usual fare for their passage; and with this accession
of company and cargo we again set forward. Below Schelmenbach and
Krumpen-Nussbaum falls the mountain-stream called the Erlaf, into the
Danube, named in deeds of the time of Charlemagne, and long the
boundary between Bavaria and the Land of the Huns. At the mouth of the
Erlaf, is a Rechen or Grate, where the wood collects that is floated
down this stream from the forests in the neighbourhood of Maria-Zell,
in the Steyermark, near which it takes its rise. It is customary in
Germany to place one of these gratings at the mouth of any tributary
stream, or in the bed of any river where a line of demarcation is drawn
naturally or artificially between two kingdoms, two provinces or even
two parishes. So that the branches and trunks of trees blown down by
high winds, and swept away by inundations into the current, should not
be carried beyond the frontiers or boundaries of the state or property
to which they belong, and which derives from them no inconsiderable
portion of its revenue.

The timber, also, regularly felled by the wood-cutters, is thrown thus
carelessly on the mountain-streams of Germany, and floats down to
the Rechen or Grate, where it is afterwards collected by its owners,
who are thus saved the trouble and expense of land carriage; and the
drifting property is protected from plunder by the severity of the
laws relating to it.

Before us now lay the two Pechlarns; Great Pechlarn on the right,
and Little Pechlarn on the left bank. At the first we determined to
breakfast, were it only to feast where the fair Chrimhilt had feasted,
in

  “Die Burg zu Bechelaren.”

No relics of the “Burg” itself, however, exist; but an old gateway,
some round towers, and here and there a few feet of crumbling wall,
attest the early grandeur of the place, and fancy fills up the chasms
which time has made, with court and keep, buttress and battlement,
crowded with fair damsels and fierce soldiery, “all, all abroad to
gaze” at the advancing pageant.

There, round that point of land, comes the royal fleet, the banners
of Hungary, Burgundy, Bavaria, Pechlarn, and Passau, flinging their
blazoned glories on the breeze, and proudly announcing to the admiring
burghers the rich freight of rank and beauty which the swelling Danube
is wafting to their port. Five hundred “Kemps of Hungary,” their bright
hauberks glittering in the sun, crowd the decks of the first vessels.
On the prow of the foremost stands the valiant Markgraf, Rudiger of
Pechlarn, than whom

                     “A truer soldier never
                     Was in this world yborn,[69]”

bending eagerly forward to distinguish, amongst the bevy of beauties
at “the open windows[70]” of the castle, the fair forms of his beloved
wife and daughter. Beneath the rich canopy that shades the deck of
yonder bark, with the gilded oars, now doubling the little promontory,
sits the peerless bride of the mighty Etzel, but she hears not the
shout of welcome that rises on the shore; she marks not the gay
multitudes that crowd to pay her homage. Her brow is clouded, her ruby
lip quivers, tears like liquid diamonds tremble upon the long dark
silken lashes of her downcast eyes; the form of the noble Siegfried is
constantly before her. She hears but the voice of her murdered champion
calling for vengeance; she sees but the ghastly wound which treachery
dealt, bleeding afresh at the approach of the dark and deadly Haghen.
Yet, passing beautiful is she even in sorrow, and still warrants the
glowing description of the old minnesænger, Henry of Ofterdingen.[71]

      “From out her broidered garments
      Full many a jewel shone,
      The rosy red bloomed sweetly
      Her lovely cheek upon.
      He who would in fancy
      Paint that lady fair,
      In this world has never
      Seen such beauty rare.

      As the moon outshineth
      Every twinkling star,
      Shedding careless splendour
      From out her cloudy car;
      So, before her maidens,
      Stood that lady bright,
      And higher swelled the spirit
      Of every gazing knight.[72]”

By her side stands a venerable figure, clad in the gorgeous and sacred
vestments of his office. The flowing stole of embroidered silk, the
pallium of cloth of gold, the jewelled mitre, the “gilt shoon,” and
the massive but richly wrought cross and crosier, borne by two of his
attendants, distinguish  him as the holy Pilgerin, the wealthy and
powerful Bishop of Passau, uncle to the queen, and related also to the
noble Rudiger. The pale youth near him, his hands reverently crossed
upon his bosom, is his clerk Conrad, who afterwards assisted him to
write, in “the Latin tongue,” the adventures of the Nibelungen. On the
other hand of the lovely Chrimhilt, stands the faithful Duke Eckewart,
who has sworn to escort his liege lady to Hungary; and the remainder
of the flotilla bears the five hundred chosen Knights of Burgundy, who
follow his standard. The vision is over, the airy castle has vanished--

              “The knights are dust,
              Their good swords are rust,
              Their souls are with the saints we trust.”

And a rude and solitary boat is rocking under the windows of a poor
white-washed wirthshaus, which, with half a dozen humble cottages and
some mouldering walls, now marks the site of the once strong and gay
burg of Pechlarn!

Rudiger of Pechlarn, as well as his kinsman, the Bishop of Passau, is
an historical personage. He was Count of the frontier during the reign
of Arnulph, Duke of Bavaria, and died in 916. His son, Markgraf Rudiger
II., died in 943, and with him the direct male line became extinct. The
little town of Pechlarn is now principally inhabited by potters.

Beyond Pechlarn, the river keeps still widening, till, on the left
bank, rises the fine old Castle of Weideneck, which receives its name
from a neighbouring rivulet, and is supposed to have been built by
the elder Rudiger of Pechlarn. The Emperor Frederick IV., and the
famous Matthias Corvinus, King of Hungary, both beleaguered Weideneck.
The former twice won and lost it. But the eye has scarcely caught
sight of Weideneck, before it is attracted by the distant domes of
the magnificent Convent of Mölk, that appear over the willows of an
island, in the centre of the river. Gradually, the entire façade of the
convent, upon its granite rock, and the little market-town beneath it,
glide from behind the island, and complete one of the most imposing and
beautiful pictures upon the river. The present splendid structure was
built in 1720-32, by an architect, named Prandauer; but the rock on
which it stands, once supported, not only a more ancient convent, but
also a Roman fortress. Under the name of Medilke, it appears in the
Nibelungen-lied,

  “At Medilke were the goblets
   Of costly gold, filled high,
   And the wine went gaily round
   Mid that noble company.”

But the authentic history of Mölk commences apparently in the sixteenth
century, when the Markgraf Leopold I., surnamed the Illustrious, made
it his residence after wresting it from the power of the Hungarians.
This valiant prince founded here a kloster, and was here interred after
his murder at Wurzburg, as were likewise his wife, Richarde, his sons
Henry and Albrecht, and their wives, Mechthilde and Frowiza, Adelheid,
Countess of Leopold the Strong, the Margraf Ernest III., surnamed the
Valiant, and his lady Schwanehild, Leopold III., surnamed the Handsome,
and many other noble Austrian and Bavarian knights and ladies. Saint
Colomanus, or Saint Colman, descended, according to the story, from
the early Kings of Scotland, was also buried at Mölk. This saint,
travelling through Austria to Jerusalem, was seized, at Stockerau, by
some rebellious peasants, A.D. 1012, who, taking him for a spy, hung
him upon a tree, where his body remained a year and a half without
putrefaction, and afterwards worked many miracles! Leopold III., in
the year 1089, established some Benedictines from Lambach in this
Kloster; and his son, Leopold IV., who was born here in 1073, and here
celebrated his marriage with Agnes, daughter of the Emperor Henry IV.,
and widow of Frederick of Hohenstaufen, gave up his palace to them,
and retired to the Khalenberg, near Vienna. The Kloster of Mölk soon
became proverbial for its wealth, and its superior was the Primate of
Lower Austria. In 1619, the insurgents of Upper Austria besieged Mölk
for upwards of a month, as did also the Turks in 1684. Napoleon had
his headquarters here in 1805, and again in 1809; and a mark is shown
upon the floor of one of the apartments in the Kloster, which he is
said to have made in a passion. While a few monks inhabit this splendid
palace, their sovereign, one of the most powerful monarchs in Europe,
passes a considerable portion of his time in an humble wooden building,
upon the opposite bank of the Danube. At Lubereck, a little below the
Castle of Weideneck, beside a romantic waterfall, is a small edifice,
built entirely of wood, and formerly the country residence of the Baron
von Führenberg, postmaster of Mölk. Between this place and Bösenbeug,
Francis I. divides nearly all the hours which, during summer, he
snatches from the cares of empire. In his plain, domestic habits,
and in the kindness and affability with which, in such moments of
relaxation, he listens or chats to his humble neighbours, the present
Sovereign of Austria greatly resembles our own late venerable monarch,
King George III., and, like him, has compelled his bitterest political
enemies to acknowledge that, in all the private virtues of life, as a
husband, a father, and a master, he is an example, not only to his own
subjects, but to mankind.

On the left bank, beyond Lubereck, is the markt of Emmersdorf, at the
point of a narrow neck of land, round which the Danube wheels to the
north-east, and enters the romantic valley of the Wachau. Emmersdorf,
like so many other places on the Danube, was formerly the seat of some
powerful robbers, who levied contributions upon the passing vessels,
and blotted the page of history with such bloody deeds that, to use the
expression of a modern German writer, the hand of a common executioner
alone could steadily transcribe them. At the mouth of the Bielach,
a little river that empties itself into the Danube nearly facing
Emmersdorf, and over which there is a ferry, the celebrated district
called the Wachau commences, and extends itself as far as the castle of
Dürrenstein, some say as far as Mautern and Krems. The view from this
point, either looking up or down the river, is exceedingly beautiful.
The western prospect is enriched with the castle of Weideneck, the
Palace-convent and markt of Mölk, and the noble mountains of Upper
Austria, which here you gaze on for the last time. Turning and looking
into the mouth of the yawning gorge, the eye is first attracted by
the castle and kloster of Schönbühel, picturesquely situated on the
brink of the precipitous right bank, behind which rise some gigantic
mountains. On the left, a crescent of bold craggy hills, towering one
over the other, checks the northerly inclination of the mighty flood,
and bends it again eastward, while upon one of them the fine ruin of
Aggstein glimmers white in the distance.

Charlemagne, in the year 803, gave the whole valley of the Wachau
(in terra Avarorum) from the Bielach as far as Tuln, Zeizelmauer
and Perschling, (Tulna, Zysenmurus et Bierstlinga,) to the Bishop
of Passau, and it belonged to Bavaria, at least “in spiritualibus,”
till 1805. Schloss Schönbühel stands, as I have before said, at the
entrance to the valley, upon a wall of granite, from which its own
walls are scarcely distinguishable. Schultes calls it a ruin, but to
me it had the appearance of an inhabited château in excellent repair.
It is a singular-looking building, with a tall, square, but narrow
tower, shooting up from the centre of its western front, more like a
chimney than a turret. Its situation, however, is exceedingly fine and
commanding, and it has the reputation of being haunted by no less a
spirit than Lucifer himself, a circumstance which would alone render
it interesting to the romantic tourist. A little beyond it stands an
old chapel or kloster, belonging to the Schloss. In the fourteenth
century this place belonged to the family of Starrhemberg. Having now
fairly entered the valley, we perceived the markt of Aggsbach on the
left bank, and facing it, Klein, or little Aggsbach. In a chasm behind
the latter, Haderich von Meissau, the Kuenringer and marshal of Lower
Austria, founded, in 1386, a convent for thirteen Carthusian Monks,
which was suppressed by Joseph II. in 1782; and on the mountain top,
a little beyond the former, stand the before-mentioned ruins of the
Castle of Aggstein. There is a tradition respecting this castle, of
a peculiarly German cast, and which would work up well in “a tale of
terror.” It is said that it was anciently the hold of a robber knight
named Schrekenwald, who, after seizing and plundering the unfortunate
travellers on the Danube, thrust his wretched captives through an iron
door over the rocks into a deep abyss behind the castle, which he
called his “Little Rose Garden,” and from which (even if by a miracle
they were not dashed to pieces in their fall) the chance of escape
was next to impossible. The tradition is preserved in an Austrian
proverb; when any one is in such a strait as to preclude all hope of
extrication, he is said to be “in Schreckenwald’s Rose-garden.” The
story, however, goes on to say, that, by some extraordinary chance, one
of his intended victims did effect his escape, and with the help of his
friends, who returned with him in arms, surprised, made prisoner, and
hung the monster.

In the year 1232, Hadmar, the Kuenringer, who was also lord of
Dürrenstein, possessed this castle, and ravaged, in company with
his brother Heinrich von Weitra, the whole country as far as Stein
and Krems. The trembling inhabitants called them “the Hounds,” and
Frederick, the last of the Babenbergers, in vain endeavoured to subdue
and destroy them. A merchant, named Rudiger, at length suggested a
ruse de guerre to the Emperor. “I will freight,” said he, “a vessel at
Regensburg, laden with the most costly merchandise: the tidings will
soon reach the robbers at Aggstein. Thirty stout knights shall lie
concealed in the vessel, and when Hadmar rushes down from his castle,
and boards us with a few of his vassals, thinking to plunder some
peaceable merchants, the knights shall rush out upon and overpower him,
while I push off from the shore.” The plan was adopted, and succeeded.
The vessel was freighted at Regensburg, and stopped at Aggstein. Hadmar
flung himself into the snare set for him, and Rudiger and his people,
rowing off at the same moment, brought the robber prisoner to the feet
of Frederick.

In 1277, Luitold Kuenring possessed the castles of Aggstein and
Dürrenstein, but lost them both, with many others, in rebellion against
Albert I., and was banished the country in 1291. From that period its
history is a mere record of bargains and sales, which terminates with
its purchase by a Count of Beroldingen, in 1819.

The castle is finely situated on the crest of a conical hill, and the
path up to it lies through a thick forest which affords a pleasing
shelter to the noontide traveller, whom curiosity leads to inspect the
ruins. The keys are kept in the little wirthshaus on the bank below
it. Great part of the castle is in tolerable preservation, at least as
far as regards the bare walls; and the date over the gateway, if Prof.
Schultes have rightly copied it, (for I did not see it myself,) appears
to me rather apocryphal. The inscription runs thus:--

                       “Das Purkstall hat ange
                        vangen tze pauen her Jo
                        rig der Schektvon w
                        ald der nachten montag
                        nach unser Frauventag
                        nativitatis, da von Crist
                        gpurd waren ergangen
                        +MCCXXVIII+ Jar.[73]”

Below Schwallenbach, a small markt on the left bank, a rude mass of
barren crags  has received the name of the Teufel’s mauer (Devil’s
wall.) This busy “old gentleman” is said to have taken it into his
head to block up the Danube at this spot, but, through some special
intervention of Providence, a sudden stop was put to the infernal
masonry. An echo slumbers here, which, waked by a pistol-shot, resents
the impertinence in a voice of thunder. Having passed the villages
of Ober or Schloss-Arnsdorf, and Mitter-Arnsdorf, we at length
arrived before the markt and castle of Spitz, the towers of which
had been visible from Schwallenbach. Both town and castle belonged
anciently to Bavaria, and they have been in turn the property of
most of the ecclesiastical and lay robbers we have already heard so
much of--the bishops of Passau and Salzburg, the monks of Nieder
Altaich, the Margraves Burkhard and Leopold, Hansen the Kapeller,
Hadmar the Kuenringer, etc. etc. In 1805, Marshal Mortier, who had
narrowly escaped destruction near Dürrenstein, was glad to cross the
Danube at this place by means of a bridge of boats. The old castle
above the little markt is called the Hinterhaus, and is one of the
most picturesque ruins on the river. The rock it stands upon is of
an extraordinary form, black, rugged, and bare, a gigantic pedestal,
worthy of supporting this fine monument of the middle ages. The church
and village of St. Michel, with their old round towers and crumbling
walls, are the next interesting objects. The precipices upon both banks
now assume the most fantastic forms. The vine has here again made its
appearance. Its light green is beautifully contrasted with the dark
firs and pines, and the white barren peaks that Nature seems to have
fashioned in her most eccentric moods.

As the valley narrows, the rocks rise higher and higher, and the wild
scenery of the Schlägen is for the last time repeated. This savage
glen has long been considered by the peasantry of the neighbourhood
as the haunt of witches and evil spirits; and about thirty years ago
a poor little old woman, who was feeding her goat upon one of these
precipices, was absolutely shot with a glass bullet, for a wetter-hexe
(weather-witch,) a violent thunder-storm which had unfortunately
arisen being “charged to her account,” by the superstitious marksman.
On emerging from this gorge--the crowning glory of the romantic
scene--the magnificent ruin of Dürrenstein presents itself on its
stupendous rock. Language cannot do justice to the sublimity of this
view, which might task the united pencils of a Claude and a Salvator
Rosa. Independently of its beauty and grandeur, what recollections
crowd upon the mind, as the splendid picture dawns upon the
sight,--Richard Cœur de Lion!--Six hundred years have past, and the
name is still a spell-word to conjure up all the brightest and noblest
visions of the age of chivalry. What glorious phantoms rise at the
sound! Saladin--the great, the valiant, the generous Saladin, again
wheels at the head of his Cavalry--Frederick Barbarossa, the conqueror
of Iconium--the brave but politic Philip of France--the gallant
but unfortunate Marquis of Montferrat! The whole host of red-cross
warriors--the knights of the Temple and St. John--start again into
existence from their graves in the Syrian Deserts, and their tombs
in Christian Europe, where still their recumbent effigies grasp the
sword in stone. The Lion-hearted Plantagenet once more flourishes
with a giant’s strength; the tremendous battle-axe, whereon “were
twenty pounds of steel[74],” around the nodding broom-plant in his
cylindrical helmet, while his implacable foe, Leopold of Austria, leans
frowning on his azure shield; his surcoat of cloth of silver “dabbled
in blood,” that terrible token of his valour at Ptolemais, which is
to this day the blazon of his ancient house[75]. Yonder walls have
echoed to the clank of the fetters with which his unknightly vengeance
loaded Richard of England--to the minstrel-moan of “the Lord of Oc and
No[76],” and (for who can coldly  pause to separate such romantic
facts from the romance they have inspired) to the lay of the faithful
Blondel, which, wafted by the pitying winds to his Royal Master’s ear,
soothed his captivity, and brightened his hopes of freedom. Many are
the castles on the banks of the Danube pointed out to the traveller
as the prison of Cœur de Lion. Aggstein, which we have not long
passed, Greifenstein, which we are approaching, both assert a similar
claim to our interest, our veneration; and it has been not improbably
conjectured, that Richard was in turn the resident of each, being
secretly removed from fortress to fortress, by his subtle and malignant
captor, in order to baffle the researches of his friends and followers.
Notwithstanding this dispute, Dürrenstein has by general consent,
and long tradition, been established as the principal place of his
confinement; and no one who, with that impression, has gazed upon its
majestic ruins, would thank the sceptic who should endeavour to disturb
his belief. They stand upon a colossal rock, which rising from a
promontory picturesquely terminated by the little town of Dürrenstein,
is singularly ribbed from top to bottom by a rugged mass of granite
indented like a saw. On each side of this natural barrier, a strip of
low wall, with small towers at equal distances, straggles down the
rock, which, thus divided, is here and there cut towards its base into
cross terraces planted with vines, and in the ruder parts left bare, or
patched with lichens and shrubs of various descriptions. On its naked
and conical crest, as though a piece of the crag itself, rises the keep
of the castle, square, with four square towers at its angles, and not
unlike the fine ruin at Rochester. Had the accomplished Hemans beheld
the scene, her muse could scarcely have better described it.

  “He hath reached a mountain hung with vine,

     *       *       *       *       *

   The feudal towers that crest its height
   Frown in unconquerable might;
   Dark is their aspect of sullen state,
   No helmet hangs o’er the massy gate,
   To bid the wearied pilgrim rest,
   At the chieftain’s board a welcome guest;
   Vainly rich evening’s parting smile
   Would chase the gloom of the haughty pile,
   That midst bright sunshine lowers on high,
   Like a thunder-cloud in a summer sky.

     *       *       *       *       *

   Lingering he gazed--the rocks around
   Sublime in savage grandeur frowned;
   Proud guardians of the regal flood,
   In giant strength the mountains stood;
   By torrents cleft, by tempests riven,
   Yet mingling still with the calm blue heaven[77].”

The celebrated Denon had a sketch made of this castle and rock, and
sent to Paris expressly for a scene in Gretry’s well-known opera,
“Richard Cœur de Lion.”

The circumstances of Richard’s quarrel with the Duke of Austria, and
his subsequent arrest and captivity, are too well known to require
insertion here; but, in the Chronicon Zwetlense, t. 1, s. 531, it
is expressly stated that Richard was seized at Erpuch, near Vienna,
(this Erpuch being the present Erdberg, one of the largest of its
many suburbs,) and given, by Leopold, into the custody of Hadmar, the
Kuenringer at Tyernstain (Dürrenstein). The old chronicler, Haselbach,
also says that Richard came to Vienna as a pilgrim, in a company of
cooks, and acted as turnspit one evening in the kitchen of the Duke of
Austria. But a cook, recognizing his features, informed Leopold, who
immediately commanded Richard to be brought before him, and addressed
him in these words, “Domine Rex Anglorum, nimis nobilis estis, ut sitis
assator in coquina ducis;” after which he delivered him into “Honesta
Custodia.” According to the Chronicon Conradi Cœnobitæ Schyrensis,
Richard, after suffering shipwreck at Aquileia, was betrayed to Leopold
by the Duke of Carinthia. The story of his having betrayed himself,
in his passage through Austria, by his expenses and liberalities, is,
however, the most probable, as well as the best authenticated.

Dürrenstein is first mentioned about the year 1170, when, in some
deeds, are found the names of Göttschalk and Regenbert von Tirnstain.
In 1192, the year in which Richard was made prisoner, the castle is
known to have belonged to Hadmar, the Kuenringer, who was likewise
the possessor of Aggstein; and, in 1231, it was taken, and partially
destroyed by Frederick, the last of the Babenbergers. No events of
consequence are recorded to have taken place in it from that time to
the year 1645, when the Swedes are supposed to have reduced it to
its present ruinous condition. The little town at its foot, with its
handsome church[78], is prettily situated; and when, in 1741, a party
of French and Bavarian cavalry forded the Danube, in hopes to surprise
it, the citizens hit upon a plan as novel as ingenious. They barred up
their gates as well as they could, laid logs of firewood on the walls,
in imitation of cannon, chalked the rims of their hats, to give them
the appearance of being bound with white lace, according to the uniform
of their troops at that time, and parading up and down the ramparts
with much drumming and bustle, taking care that their hats only should
be seen above the walls, absolutely induced the enemy to believe that
the place was strongly garrisoned; and they accordingly wheeled to the
right about without firing a shot, to the infinite joy and amusement of
the cunning inhabitants, who certainly well deserved their escape.

On the 11th of November, 1805, the defiles behind Dürrenstein were the
scene of a murderous conflict between the French, under Mortier and
Dupont, and the Russians, under Doctorof and the Austrian general,
Schmidt. Mortier, who had instructions from Napoleon to march upon
Krems, and was anxious to prevent the Russians passing into Moravia,
hurried forwards with Gazan’s division, and a brigade of dragoons,
being followed, at some distance, by Dupont’s division, and some
Dutch regiments. Below Dürrenstein, he encountered the advance guard
of Miloradowich, which he drove back to the gates of Stein, making a
few prisoners: but this slight success had nearly led to his ruin,
for, at the same instant, another strong corps of Russians, led by
Generals Schmidt and Doctorof, descended the mountains in his rear;
and General Essen, having reinforced Miloradowich, and thrown himself
before Loiben, the French were between two fires. Mortier had no
remedy but to cut his way, if possible, through the column in his rear,
and so effect a junction with Dupont, to whom he had, fortunately for
himself, sent orders to quicken his march. Major Henriod, at the head
of the 100th regiment, charged the Russians, and a horrible carnage
ensued in the narrow defiles, crowded with infuriated soldiery. Two
pieces of artillery, which Mortier had with him, decided the issue
of the combat in his favour, his adversaries being destitute of
cannon. The brave Austrian, Schmidt, fell at the first discharge; and
Doctorof, endeavouring to withdraw his troops from the ravine, was
suddenly attacked, in the rear, by the division of Dupont, and thus
found himself, in his turn, between two fires. With much difficulty he
effected his retreat over the mountain he had just descended; and the
desperate troops of Mortier rushing into the defile, as they imagined,
on the bayonets of their enemies, found themselves, before they were
aware, in the arms of their friends and countrymen. From twelve to
fifteen hundred men were lost on each side, and the allies received a
terrible blow in the death of General Schmidt, the friend and companion
in arms of the Archduke Charles[79].

Below Dürrenstein, the river widens, and a new and cheerful prospect
dawns upon the sight. Three small towns, Stein, Mautern, and Krems, the
two first connected by a bridge, about six hundred and thirty paces
long, across the Danube, present themselves at once to the eye; and
over Mautern, on the right bank, upon a finely-wooded mountain, rise
the towers and cupolas of Kloster Göttweih.

Mautern was known as early as the time of Charlemagne, and in 898 was
called the town of Mutarum, and fortified by Isanrich, the son of
the Markgraf Arbo, when he rose against the Emperor Arnulf. Arnulf,
though in the last stage of illness, laid seige to Mautern, and took
it in the following year, a few months before his death; but Isanrich
succeeded in eluding his conqueror, and sought refuge in Moravia.
Rudolph of Hapsburg gave the same rights and privileges to Mautern as
 were enjoyed by Stein and Krems in reward for its early declaration
in his favour. In 1347, the burghers, having joined their neighbours
of Krems in a cruel persecution of the Jews, were severely punished by
Albert II., and their Lord, the Bishop of Passau, whose _Christian_
zeal had been rather exuberant, was condemned to pay a fine to the
Duke of six hundred pounds. Matthias Corvinus, the gallant King of
Hungary, gained a victory here over the Austrians in 1484. In 1805, the
Russians under Kutusof retreated before Murat, Lannes, and Soult, over
the bridge at Mautern, and immediately burnt it. It was destroyed again
by the Austrian Field-marshal Hiller in 1809, on the second advance of
Napoleon to Vienna. With the exception of the old gate, through which
the road leads to St. Pölten and Göttweih, little remains to vouch for
the antiquity of the town; and the same may be said of Stein, under the
walls of which we landed,--the gate facing the water, and the ruins
of some old building near the bridge, being all the relics that “Goth
and Time and Turk have spared”--I might add, Hungarian and Swede,
as Matthias Corvinus stormed it in 1486, and Torstenson in 1645. So
exasperated was the latter by the opposition he met with, that when he
at length entered the place, he took most sanguinary vengeance upon the
brave citizens. Stein is little more than one long, rambling street,
over the vile flints of which, as we entered it, half a dozen poor
old women, nearly all upon crutches, were hobbling in ludicrous haste
after a dirty little ragamuffin, who, bearing the banner of some Saint,
very like a red pocket handkerchief, appeared to enjoy the fruitless
attempts of the unfortunate cripples to keep pace with him. On the
young rascal went, at a sort of hand gallop, while they, like Johnson’s
“Panting Time,”

                      “Toiled after him in vain.”

Quitting Stein at the eastern extremity of this long street, a walk
of about ten minutes conducts you through a pretty promenade, planted
with trees, and called the little Präter, to the gates of Krems, the
most considerable of these three small towns. It is first mentioned in
the reign of Otto III. In the year 1347, its kennels ran with Hebrew
blood. It was pretended that the Jews had poisoned the wells of the
town; and as any report, however ridiculous, provided it afforded a
pretext to insult and plunder that unfortunate people, was eagerly and
implicitly believed by the brutal populace, an immediate slaughter took
place of all who refused to acknowledge the divinity of Christ. Many
wealthy Israelites being aware of the real motive of their persecutors,
made their despair minister to their vengeance, and barring up
themselves, their family, and their riches together, set fire to the
building, and perished exultingly in the flames that anticipated the
spoiler. The horrid frenzy extended to Stein, Mautern, and many other
places in the vicinity, and was only allayed by the arrival of the
brave Erbschenk von Meissau who, by command of Albert II., hurried
with a considerable force into the disturbed districts. Krems and
Stein were heavily mulcted, and the neighbouring villages, Loiben,
Strassing, Rattendorf and Weinzierl, plundered by the soldiery of the
blood-stained booty they had acquired. In the fifteenth century, Krems
was twice besieged by Matthias Corvinus, the last time successfully.
On the invasion of Austria by the Bohemian Protestants in 1619, a corps
of the insurgents under their Colonel, Carpizan, having cut off the
garrison of Krems, which had made a desperate sally from the town,
immediately advanced to scale the now defenceless walls; but the women
with one consent, seizing the first weapons they could find, rushed to
the ramparts, and fought with such steady bravery, that the enemy were
at length obliged to abandon the attempt. To this memorable achievement
Ferdinand II. was in great measure indebted for the preservation of his
empire; for Krems being thus relieved, General Dampierre detached a
body of five hundred horse to Vienna, at that time closely invested by
Count Thurn. The Emperor, reduced to the last extremity, the walls of
his palace battered by the Bohemian cannon, and echoing the reproachful
shouts of his disaffected subjects, had resigned himself to his fate,
when the sudden blast of a trumpet announced the arrival of succour.
The little squadron of horse having secretly descended the Danube,
and entered the capital by the only gate unguarded by the enemy, was
magnified into a mighty host by the fears of the malcontents, who
dispersed in every direction. The friends of the Emperor took courage,
six hundred students flew to arms; their example was followed by
fifteen hundred citizens; additional succours arrived, and in a few
hours all appearance of danger and discontent had subsided.

Krems is the seat of what is termed in Austria a kreis-amtes, or
council, having the government of one of the circles of the empire.
Its jurisdiction extends over a fourth of Lower Austria, called
the Viertel, or quarter of Ober-Manhardsberg. The principal public
buildings are the Pfarrekirche, built in 1464, the church of St.
Katharine, remarkable as having been originally a residence of the
knights-templars, a theatre, a gymnasium, and a cassino. The Austrian
epicure is indebted to Krems for excellent mustard, and the sportsman
for superior gunpowder; upwards of forty thousand florins worth of the
former article is yearly made and sold in this town. The mustard is
sent in its natural state from Znaym, Rausenbruck, and various other
parts of Moravia, and boiled at Krems with unfermented wine, which
gives it its peculiar flavour. In a vineyard near Krems was formerly
a well, the water of which was believed a sovereign specific for all
disorders. The neighbouring capuchins of Und, who were the respectable
vouchers for its efficacy, sold the pure element at a so large a price,
that the Emperor Maximilian I. suddenly discovered the necessity for
enacting a law, whereby the revenue arising from this traffic was
transferred from the coffers of the church into those of the state,
which, at the commencement of his reign, were not so likely to overflow
from the addition.

Wandering beneath the walls of Krems and Stein, we gazed with delight
upon the beautifully situated monastery of Göttweih. A short distance
from the right bank behind Mautern, this immense building stretched
itself along the brow of a lofty, isolated mountain, clothed with
waving woods, in the rich liveries of autumn, its countless windows
splendidly illuminated by the descending sun. It dates no further back
than the commencement of the eighteenth century, when it was built
upon the site of an ancient kloster, originally founded by Altmann,
Bishop of Passau, in 1083. There is a spring shown at the foot of
the mountain, where this turbulent prelate, then only a student in
theology, entered into a compact with Adalbert, afterwards Bishop of
Wurzburg, and Gebhard, afterwards Bishop of Salzburg, by which they
bound themselves to rise against the Emperor Henry IV., so soon as they
should be appointed to their several sees!--an extraordinary agreement
which they religiously fulfilled; and having succeeded in stirring up
his own son to rebellion, compelled the unfortunate monarch, after a
desperate struggle, to resign his crown at Ratisbon. Altmann, however,
was not permitted to witness the triumph of his party; the enraged
Emperor deprived him of his bishopric in 1085, and he died six years
afterwards in exile at Zieselmauer.

Below Stein the Danube forms another archipelago, and during the
remainder of a lovely evening, we glided between the thickly-wooded
islands, catching at long intervals a momentary glimpse of the
red-tipped steeple of one of the many insignificant villages which here
line the main banks of the river, now as flat and uninteresting as they
were between Aschach and Ottensheim. The current at length leading us
near the right bank, we passed the markt and ruin of Holenburg; the
latter, during the fifteenth century, the stronghold of two redoubted
pirates, named Frohnauer and Vettau,--Wagram, (not the famous Wagram,
there are six Wagrams in Austria,) St. Georgen, where Ulrich, Bishop
of Passau, in 1109-12, built a celebrated kloster called St. Georg auf
der Insel and Trasenmauer, at the mouth of the river Trasen, where,
according to the Nibelungen-lied, Etzel,

                     “---- The King of Hunnen-land
                      Had a Castle wide
                      Y called Traisenmauer[80].”

Nearly facing the mouth of the Trasen, the little river Kamp discharges
itself into the Danube, and, on doubling a small point of land, the
village of Zwentendorf  appeared on the right bank, and the mountains
of the Wiener-Wald, arising in the distance, announced the vicinity of
the capital. It was impossible, however, to reach it that evening, and
therefore making for the little town of Tuln that lay directly before
us in a sort of bay, we landed under the walls of a spacious building,
the mutilated colossal statues of saints, prelates, and monarchs, in
front of which, bore testimony to its former grandeur, and groping our
way through a narrow passage, emerged into the court-yard behind it,
where stood the wretched auberge, in which our steersman informed us
we must pass the night. To our great relief, however, a red-elbowed,
yellow-haired, blue-stockinged, round-about _mädchen_, seizing a
candle and a huge bunch of keys, recrossed the court with us towards
the great building, and opening a postern door, which Mrs. Radcliffe
would have worshipped, led the way up a winding staircase into a long
gallery, hung with paintings of martyrdoms and miracles, fubsy virgins,
and chubby cherubs, fat abbots, and fair nuns; and ushered us into a
wilderness of a chamber, furnished with one table and sixteen beds!
The astonishment of our guide must be imagined when my companion
requested yet another room. The idea of separate chambers never
entering her head, she naturally enough supposed that sixteen beds
would surely be sufficient for two persons. However, as there was no
accounting for the whims of foreigners, and as no other travellers were
likely to arrive, she found another apartment for my friend, containing
nine beds, and, with a stare of amazement I shall not speedily forget,
after furnishing us with some coffee and another candle, left us to
sleep in any or all of our twenty-five beds, as we might eventually
determine. On mentioning this circumstance afterwards to a Viennese, I
was assured that, had a larger company arrived, the remaining fifteen
beds in my chamber would have been unceremoniously occupied by men or
women, as it might have happened; for, as he remarked to me, with the
greatest coolness, “how would the poor people, who possess but two or
three good rooms, be otherwise enabled to accommodate forty or fifty
persons of both sexes, as they are frequently called upon to do?”
Whether the building itself was the Nonnen-Kloster founded by Rudolph
of Hapsburg, in gratitude for his victory over Ottocar, or the old
Schloss, in which, every Monday, at midnight, the ghosts of a lady
and her maid are in the habit of promenading[81], I am to this moment
ignorant. If the latter, it being Thursday, the ghosts were not on
duty. The Lady-Moon alone peeped through the long narrow casements; the
murmur of the stream that ran rapidly beneath them, was the only sound
that mingled with my dreams.


                       FOOTNOTES (CHAPTER VII.)

[65] This prodigy will remind the classical reader of the punishment of
the Amazons, who attempted to cut down the sacred grove that shadowed
the temple of Achilles in the island of Leuce. At the first blows they
struck, the axe-heads flew from their handles, and laid the impious
wielders dead upon the spot.

[66] “Kurzer Bericht von dem Ursprung des wunderthätigen schmerzhaften
Gnadenbildes Maria-Taferl.” There are numberless tracts of this
description sold at Marbach to the pilgrims, who “hold each strange
tale devoutly true.”

[67] Fragmentum Historicum de quatuor Albertis--apud Pez. vol. ii. p.
385.

[68] The regular weekly passage-boats from Ulm, Regensburg, and
Stadt-am-hof, to Vienna, are called “ordinari-schiffe.”


[69] “Nie ward getreuer’r Degen geboren auf der Erde.” Nibelungen-lied.

[70] “Die Fenster in den mauern, die sieht man offen stahn.” Ditto.

[71] The supposed author of the Nibelungen-lied.

[72] Nibelungen-lied, V. 1116-23.

[73] “The castle was begun to be built by Jorig der Schekt-von-wald,
the Monday after the nativity of our Lady, from the birth of Christ,
the year 1228.” Herr Schultes remarks, that he may be mistaken in the
date, and mentions that Petz, in his Chronicle of Mölk, (Part I. p.
261) speaks of a Baron Schekh, whose deeds were as black as those laid
at the _iron_ door of Schreckenwald, and who, in 1467, was besieged,
and brought to such a pass, that “he,” says the chronicler, “who
formerly was lord of six castles, perished in poverty.” This Schekh or
Sheckt-von-Wald, as the name appears in the inscription, and the famous
Schreckenwald, were, most probably, one and the same person; and from
the state of the present building I should imagine it is more likely to
have been built in the fifteenth than the thirteenth century.

[74] Matthias Prideaux.

[75] The present arms of the Archduchy of Austria, viz. Gules, a Fess
argent, are derived from the circumstance of Leopold’s surcoat, which
was of cloth of silver, being completely stained with blood at the
siege of Ptolemais (Acre), with the exception of that part covered by
the belt round his waist. The original bearings of Leopold were azure,
six larks, or.

[76] “Yes and No,” one of the many titles given to Richard by the
Provençal poets:--

               “And tell the Lord of Oc and No
                That peace already too long hath been.”

         Bertrand de Born. _Lays of the Minnesingers_, p. 233.

[77] “The Troubadour and Richard Cœur de Lion.” Mrs. Hemans, though she
mentions “the Danube’s wave” in the same poem, has chosen to lay the
scene of Richard’s captivity on the Rhine. Her vivid fancy, however,
has actually depicted the rock and castle of Dürrenstein.

[78] In the cliff upon which this church stands, it is reported that a
cavern has been found, which is the mouth of a subterraneous passage,
communicating with the vaults of the castle.

[79] Vie Politique et Militaire de Napoléon, par le Général Jominy.
8vo. Paris, 1827, vol. ii. pp. 151-3.

[80] Nibelungen-lied, V. 3533-5. It was the residence of his first
Queen, Helke, a lady of incomparable virtue.

[81] I believe I should say _were_, for the Antiquary of the Danube
informs us, that the lady’s maid was exorcised by a “barefooted monk,”
and quietly, I presume, laid in the Red Sea. The ghost of quality alone
was untractable. This spirit, it appears, had been dismissed from the
body by an enraged husband, at the moment of an awkward discovery.
The whole history, says the prudent antiquary, is to be found in the
archives of a certain noble house; but as it would redound to the
prejudice of the descendants, should the name be made known, it has
been passed over in silence. Some time ago an attempt was made to pull
down the building, but the indignant phantom raised such a racket, that
the workmen beat a retreat, and the project was abandoned.




                             CHAPTER VIII.

 Tuln.--Langenlebern.--Greifenstein.--Story of Etelina.--Korneuburg.--
 The Bisamberg.--Kloster Neuburg.--Leopoldsberg, and the Khalenberg.--
 A glimpse of the capital.--Nusdorf.--Arrival at Vienna.--Bird’s-eye
 view and description of the environs from the Temple of Glory in the
 Brühl.


The chronicler Hagen says, that before Vienna was built, Tuln was
the capital of Austria. There is no doubt it was a place of some
consequence even in the time of the Romans. In the year 1813, a great
number of silver coins of the reigns of Vespasian, Domitian, Nerva,
and Trajan, were found in its neighbourhood. Attila is said to have
experienced a defeat here, and upwards of forty thousand Huns in one
battle to have found “the way to dusty death.” Its authentic history
commences, however, in the reign of Charlemagne, who gave the place
to Passau in 803. Under the successors of Charlemagne, Tuln was the
residence of their Grenz-Grafen, or Counts of the Border; and in 985,
Henry II, Duke of Bavaria, held a Landtag or Assembly of the States
at Tuln, at which the Duke of Carinthia, the Pfalzgraf Berchtold,
the Markgraf of Austria, and the Counts of Bavaria, appeared, and
decided the claim of the Bishop of Passau to a linn-fishery in the
neighbourhood. The Hungarians, in the winter of 1042, surprised and
burnt the town, but were, by the Markgraves Albert and Gottfried,
repulsed and pursued over the Leytna; and the whole tract of country
between Khalenberg and that river, was wrested from them for ever. In
1592, Tuln became the asylum of those who fled before the triumphant
Botskai, on whose head the minister of Achmet had placed the ancient
diadem of the despots of Servia, and who, though he refused the
proffered titles of King of Hungary and Prince of Transylvania,
terrified the feeble Emperor Rodolph by planting the victorious
standards of those revolted provinces within sight of the walls of
Presburg.

In 1683, the celebrated Sobieski joined, with his twenty-six thousand
Poles, the troops collected here for the relief of Vienna, then
invested by the Turks under Kara Mustapha. The Emperor Leopold, driven
to despair, wrote himself to the King of Poland, imploring him to
hasten to his assistance, without waiting for his army. “My troops,”
said he, “are now assembling. The bridge over the Danube is already
constructed at Tuln, to afford you a passage. Place yourself at their
head, however inferior in number; your name alone, so terrible to the
enemy, will ensure a victory!” Sobieski, flattered by this entreaty,
issued orders to his army to follow him; and, at the head of thirty-one
thousand horse, traversed Silesia and Moravia with the rapidity of a
Tartar horde, but, on his arrival at Tuln, found the bridge unfinished,
and no troops, except a corps under the Duke of Lorraine. “Does the
Emperor consider me as an adventurer?” exclaimed the disappointed
monarch. “I quitted my army to command his. It is not for myself, but
for him, that I fight.” Pacified, however, by the representations of
the Duke of Lorraine, he awaited the arrival of his own army, which
reached the Danube on the 5th of September, and the junction of the
German succours was completed on the 7th. Eight thousand Swabians
and Franconians, twenty thousand Saxons and Bavarians, led by their
Electors, swelled the allied German army to the number of sixty
thousand men. On the night of the 11th, the preconcerted signals
revived the spirits of the garrison and citizens of Vienna; and,
on the morning of the memorable 12th of September, they descried,
with rapture, the Christian standards floating on the summit of the
Khalenberg!

To the romantic traveller, Tuln is endeared as the spot where the
mighty Etzel met his matchless bride. Four and twenty princes were in
the train of this powerful monarch, and twelve of the noblest received
the priceless guerdon of a kiss from the lips of Chrimhilt. Lances were
shivered, and harps were swept, in honour of the day. A thousand marks
rewarded the royal minstrels, Swemmel and Werbel, and the largess, to
herald and serf, was worthy the hand of the richest and most powerful
sovereign

  “From the Rhone unto the Rhine--from the Elbe unto the sea.”

With spirits elevated by a morning of unequalled beauty, and hearts
throbbing with expectation, as every dip of the oar brought us nearer
and nearer to the Austrian capital, the spires of which, we fondly
imagined, would rise to our view at each new bend of the river, we
floated down the broad and glittering stream, now clear of islands, and
hurrying to bathe the craggy feet of the advancing Wiener-Wald.

Passing the long straggling village of Langenlebern, or, as it is
otherwise called, Ober and Unter Aigen, where there was formerly
a considerable establishment of gold-washers, (the waves of the
Danube, like those of Pactolus, rolling sands rich with grains of
the precious metal,) the splendour of sunrise appeared to change the
whole flood into molten ore, and realize the wildest dreams of those
modern Chrysorrohæ[82]. Below Langenlebern, on the  right bank, is
the ancient village of Zeiselmauer, (supposed to be the Cetia of the
Romans,) and celebrated as the birth-place of our old acquaintance,
St. Florian. Here, in 1092, the rebel Bishop of Passau, Altmann, died,
as I have before mentioned, in exile. We now rapidly approached the
Riederberge, or mountains of the Wiener-Wald, as the forest-covered
hills, that here overlook the Danube and Vienna, are indifferently
called. Fragments of this rocky chain now lined the right bank of the
river, which, for the first time since our leaving Ratisbon, surpassed
the left in boldness and beauty. On one of these fragments rose the
ruin of Greifenstein, one of the oldest castles in Austria, now the
property of Prince Lichtenstein, who, having a great fancy for ruins,
expends considerable sums in keeping up such as yet stand upon his
estates, and in building new ruins, where there is a deficiency of
old. In the Priel, or Brühl, near Vienna, are several of these modern
antiques, on which the venerable pile of the old family castle of
Lichtenstein looks down, with as much contempt, as a resuscitated
Norman crusader would upon his tinsel-clad theatrical representatives.
Greifenstein was last ruined by the Swedes in 1645, and is one of the
castles named as having been the prison of Richard Cœur de Lion; nay,
they even show an iron cage here, in which he is said to have been
cooped. The ruins are reported to be haunted by an old white woman, and
a legion of

                       “Black spirits and white,
                        Red spirits and grey,”

who do her awful bidding. This tradition has probably arisen from the
circumstance of its last inhabitant having been an ancient gentlewoman,
the Lady Bountiful of the neighbourhood, who devoted all her time
to the cure of disorders, and was so generally successful in the
treatment of her numerous patients, that she was at length suspected
of possessing supernatural power. At her death, therefore, instead
of canonizing her, as in duty bound, the ungrateful peasantry have
converted the kind-hearted old lady, who was certainly “a spirit of
health,” into “a goblin damned;” and they are less excusable, as the
castle is not in want of such an attraction, the _terrein_ being
already occupied by as romantic a spectre as ever revisited “the
glimpses of the moon, making night hideous!” The legend indeed attached
to those venerable walls, is one of the most interesting on the Danube,
and I cannot account for its omission by the diligent Schultes. Thus it
runs:--

As early as the eleventh century the Lords of Greifenstein were famed
and feared throughout Germany. One of the first knights who bore that
name, lost his lady soon after she had presented him with a daughter,
who received the name of Etelina. The dying mother, painfully aware
how little attention would be paid to the education of a female by
a rude and reckless father, half knight, half freebooter, however
fond he might be of his child, had recommended her infant, with her
last breath, to the care of a kind and pious monk, the chaplain of
the castle; and under his affectionate guidance, the pretty playful
girl gradually ripened into the beautiful and accomplished woman. Sir
Reinhard of Greifenstein, though stern, turbulent, and unlettered
himself, was, nevertheless, sensible to the charms and intelligence of
his daughter; and often as he parted her fair hair and kissed her ivory
forehead, before he mounted the steed or entered the bark, that waited
to bear him to the hunt or the battle, a feeling of which he was both
proud and ashamed would moisten his eye and subdue a voice naturally
harsh and grating, into a tone almost of tenderness. On his return,
weary and sullen, from a fruitless chase or a baffled enterprise, the
song of Etelina could banish the frown from his brow, when even the
wine-cup had been thrust untasted away, and the favourite hound beaten
for a mistimed gambol. So fair a flower, even in the solitary castle
of Greifenstein, was not likely to bloom unknown or unsought. The fame
of Etelina’s beauty spread throughout the land. Many a noble knight
shouted her name as his bright sword flashed from the scabbard, and
many a gentle squire fought less for his gilt spurs, than the smile of
Etelina. The minstrel who sang her praises had aye the richest largess,
and the little-foot page who could tell where she might be met with
in the summer’s twilight, clinging to the arm of the silver-haired
chaplain, might reckon on a link of his master’s chain of gold for
every word he uttered. But the powerful and the wealthy sighed at
her feet in vain--she did not scorn them, for so harsh a feeling was
unknown to the gentle Etelina. Nay, she even wept over the blighted
hopes of some, whose fervent passion deserved a better fate; but her
heart was no longer hers to give. She had fixed her affections upon the
poor but noble Rudolph, and the lovers awaited impatiently some turn of
fortune which would enable them to proclaim their attachment without
fear of the anger and opposition of Sir Reinhard, who was considerably
annoyed by Etelina’s rejection of many of the richest Counts and Barons
of Germany.

Business of importance summoned the old knight to the court of the
Emperor. His absence, prolonged from month to month, afforded frequent
opportunities of meeting to the lovers; and the venerable monk, on whom
the entire charge of the castle and its inhabitants had devolved at
Sir Reinhard’s departure, was one evening struck dumb with terror, by
the confession which circumstances at length extorted from the lips of
Etelina! Recovered from the first shock, however, his affection for his
darling pupil seemed only increased, by the peril into which passion
had plunged her. In the chapel of the castle, he secretly bestowed
the nuptial benediction upon the imprudent pair, and counselled their
immediate flight and concealment, till his prayers and tears should
wring forgiveness and consent from Sir Reinhard, who was now on
his return home, accompanied by a wealthy nobleman, on whom he had
determined to bestow the hand of his daughter. Scarcely had Rudolph and
Etelina reached the cavern in the neighbouring wilderness, selected
for their retreat by the devoted old man, who had furnished them with
provisions, a lamp and some oil, promising to supply them from time
to time with the means of existence, as occasions should present
themselves, when the rocks of the Danube rang with the well-known blast
of Sir Reinhard’s trumpet, and a broad banner lazily unfolding itself
to the morning breeze, displayed to the sight of the wakeful warden the
two red griffins rampant in a field vert, the blazon of the far-feared
Lords of Greifenstein[83]. In a few moments the old knight was galloping
over the drawbridge, followed by his intended son-in-law.

The clatter of their horses’ hoofs struck upon the heart of the
conscious chaplain, as though the amimals themselves were trampling on
his bosom; but he summoned up his resolution, and relying on his sacred
character, met his master with a firm step and a calm eye, in the
hall of the castle. Evading a direct answer to the first inquiry for
Etelina, he gradually and cautiously informed Sir Reinhard of her love,
her marriage, and her flight. Astonishment for a short space held the
old warrior spell bound, but when his gathered fury at last found vent,
the wrath of the whirlwind was less terrible. He seized the poor old
monk by the throat, and upon his firm refusal to reveal the retreat of
the culprits, dashed him to the earth, had him bound hand and foot, and
flung into a pit beneath an iron grating in the floor of the donjon or
keep of the castle[84]. Tearing, like an infuriated Pasha, “his very
beard for ire,” he called down curses on Etelina and her husband, and
prayed that, if ever he forgave them, a dreadful and sudden death might
overtake him on the spot where he should revoke the malediction he now
uttered! Upwards of a year had elapsed when, one winter-day, the knight
of Greifenstein, pursuing the chase, lost his way in the mazes of a
wilderness on the banks of the Danube. A savage-looking being, half
clothed in skins, conducted him to a cavern, in which a woman similarly
attired was seated on the ground, with an infant on her knees, and
greedily gnawing the bones of a wolf.--Sir Reinhard recognised in the
squalid form before him his once beautiful Etelina.--Shocked to the
soul at the sight of the misery to which his severity had reduced her,
he silently motioned to the huntsmen, who came straggling in upon
his track to remove the wretched pair and their poor little offspring
to the castle. Moved by the smiles of his innocent and unconscious
grandchild, he clasped his repentant daughter to his bosom, as she
re-crossed the threshold, bore her up into the banquet-hall, and
consigning her to the arms of her faithful Rudolph, hastened down
again to release with his own hands the true-hearted monk, who still
languished in captivity. In descending the steep staircase, his
foot slipped, and he was precipitated to the bottom--his fall was
unseen--his cry was unheard--dying, he dragged himself a few paces
along the pavement, and expired upon the very spot where he had just
embraced and forgiven his daughter. Rudolph, now Lord of Greifenstein,
restored the chaplain to liberty, and lived long and happily with his
beloved Etelina; but the spirit of Sir Reinhard to this day wanders
about the ruins of his ancestral castle, and will continue so to do
till the stone whereon he expired shall be worn in twain. “Alas! poor
ghost!” the very slight hollow which is at present perceivable in it,
affords you little hope of its division by fair means previously to
the general “_crack_ of doom.”

Near the village of Höfelein, the river suddenly wheels to the south,
and the last grand picture of the series opens before you. On the left
is the little town of Korneuburg, backed by the vine-covered Bisamberg,
and embosomed in beautiful groves and orchards. On the right, arise
the gilded domes of Kloster-Neuburg, and far above them, in the blue
distance, tower the colossal Khalenberge, “the watchmen of Vienna,”
crowned with their churches, and terminating a chain of alps and
mountains, that, stretching across Southern Europe, links the Danube
with the Gulph of Genoa. There was something peculiarly exciting in
the scene. I was floating upon waves that were rushing to the Euxine,
and gazing upon a line of hills that extended to the Mediterranean.
I could almost fancy the clash of Turkish cymbals, mingled with the
murmur of the water, while the sound of mandolin and castagnet was
faintly wafted on the breeze from the land. The former flight may, at
least, be forgiven me in such a situation; for these shores have but
too often echoed the wild marches of the Ottoman, and the trembling
waves reflected the glittering crescent. The black horse-tails of many
a proud Pasha have streamed insultingly from yonder heights, the sable
heralds of death and desolation. The “high-capped Tartar” has here
“spurred his steed away,” and the shout of

  “God and the Prophet!--Allah hu!”

shaken like an earthquake the throne of the Cæsars.

Korneuburg is the seat of the Kreis-amtes for the quarter of
Unter-Manhardsberg. In 1306, it was the scene of one of those horrid
massacres, which invariably, during the middle ages, cancelled the
debts of Christendom to the House of Israel. The same blasphemous
falsehood, which thirty years afterwards deluged the streets of
Deggendorf with Hebrew blood, was here made the pretence for burning
alive all the unfortunate Jews in the place. The Emperor Frederick
IV. here met his deliverer, George Podiebrad, King of Bohemia, A.D.
1462, whose prompt assistance compelled Albert of Austria, the
Emperor’s brother, to raise the siege of Vienna, (in the citadel of
which Frederick was shut up with only two hundred men,) to restore
the towns, fortresses and countries he had taken possession of during
this unnatural contest, and pay an annual sum of four thousand
ducats to the Emperor for the government of Lower Austria. In 1477,
Korneuburg was besieged by Matthias Corvinus; and the brave Austrian
commandant, Enenkel, received his death-wound from an arrow that
entered an embrasure through which he was reconnoitring the enemy. It
was again besieged by Corvinus in 1484, and stood out till the very
vermin of the town became the food of the famished garrison; and in
the seventeenth century, the Swedes, who had taken and shut themselves
up in the place, after an equally stubborn resistance, capitulated
upon honourable terms. On the Bisamberg, which rises behind it, are
the finest vineyards in the neighbourhood of Vienna. The wine they
yield is considered the best of what are called the Danube wines; the
next in celebrity are Kloster-Neuburger, Grinzinger, (a very pleasant
wine,) Maurer, and Brunner, all grown on the right bank. On the summit
of the Bisamberg, formerly stood the old castle of the knights of
Pucinperche, or Busenberge, and near it rises the little Büsenbach,
that ripples through three channels into the Danube. At its foot is
Lang-Enzersdorf, the first post station from Vienna on the road to
Prague. Part of Kara-Mustapha’s army crossed the Danube here during the
siege of Vienna, and reduced the place to ashes. Nearly opposite to
Lang-Enzersdorf, stands the unfinished but magnificent Kloster-Neuburg,
and the little town to which it has given its name[85]. The Kloster was
originally founded by Leopold the Saint, in consequence of his wife’s
veil, which had been blown away as she was walking on the Khalenberg,
being wafted to this spot, and discovered some time after, hanging
on an elder-tree, by one of the Markgraf’s hounds!--So miraculous
and interesting an occurrence was deemed worthy of commemoration. A
convent was immediately built and endowed by the pious Markgraf; and
the monks enshrined the elder-tree in gold wire-work, and imitated its
blossoms with pearls[86]. Our boat now passed under the precipices of
the Leopoldsberg. The two last mountains of the Wiener-Wald have both
received the appellation of Khalenberg or Kalte-Berg. But the ancient
Khalenberg is now known by the name of the Leopoldsberg, and by the
Khalenberg is generally understood the former: Josephsberg, the second
mountain from the bank of the Danube.

On the summit of the present Leopoldsberg, originally stood the Castle
of Leopold the Saint; and from that castle, long before Vienna was
built, the Markgraf issued to hunt in the neighbouring forests, and
sometimes pursued his game over the plain whereon the capital of
Austria now spreads its interminable suburbs. In 1291, Albert I., Duke
of Austria, sought refuge in this fortress from the revolted citizens
of Vienna; and summoning reinforcements  from Swabia, cut off all
aid and provisions from the rebels, and compelled them at last to an
unconditional surrender. The principal magistrates came bare-headed and
bare-footed, to his camp, and in their presence he tore up the charters
of the city, and abrogated all those privileges which he deemed
injurious to his authority. During the reign of Albert III., the castle
fell into decay, and lay in ruins nearly fifty years, when it was
rebuilt by Albert V. Ruined again by the wars of the fifteenth century,
the Emperor Leopold I. determined to erect upon its site a chapel,
in honour of his ancestor and patron. Before the work was completed,
however, the Turks had burst into Austria, and during the siege of
Vienna, destroyed the unfinished chapel as well as the few remaining
walls of the old castle. The Saxons, who fought in the left wing of
the army of relief, carried the Turkish positions on this mountain by
storm, and drove them with much slaughter out of the ruins in which
they had entrenched themselves. On the flight of the infidels, Leopold
recommenced building his chapel, but it was finished by his son Charles
VI., under the superintendence of the Italian architect Beluzzi, who
also built a palace near it by the Emperor’s order, and twelve years
afterwards erected the present church upon the site of the chapel.
The monks of Kloster-Neuburg, who had installed themselves in these
edifices, were afterwards expelled by Joseph II.[87], and the church
and palace became the property of Prince de Ligne, the historian. His
highness considerably improved the grounds about it, and it has become
a favourite resort of the Viennese, who flock up the mountain on a fine
summer day, to enjoy the magnificent prospect from its summit, or from
the little Belvedere that overhangs the Danube. On  the outside of the
building in which the prince resided, are several inscriptions; amongst
others his favourite motto,

           “Quo res cumque cadunt, semper stat linea recta;”

and the words

                       “Château de mon refuge.”

On the side facing the Danube are the following truly French lines, in
allusion to the various fortunes which have attended the building.

      “Margraves, Polonais, Turcs et Saints, tour à tour,
      Rendirent autrefois célèbre ce séjour;
      C’est à présent celui de la philosophie,
      Du calme de l’esprit, du bonheur de la vie.
      Notre ame s’aggrandit par des grands souvenirs,
      _Mais la meilleure histoire est celui des plaisirs_.
      Sans remords, sans regrets, sans crainte et sans envie
      La nature se montre en son bel appareil
      Et l’on se croit ici favori du soleil.”

On the ceiling of the Belvedere is inscribed

                     “Optimis Vindobonensibus
                      Carolus Princeps de Ligne.”

On the Khalenberg, as the Josephsberg is now called, stands what was
formerly a monastery, founded by Ferdinand II. in 1628. Leopold I.
re-established it after the siege of Vienna; Joseph I. enlarged, and
Joseph II. suppressed it. Like the building on the Leopoldsberg, it was
purchased by the Prince de Ligne, and is a point of _réunion_ for the
holiday makers of the capital.

Below the Leopoldsberg, the Danube is divided into three large
branches, and on entering the southern branch the great dark spire of
St. Stephen’s suddenly appeared between the trees on the left bank,
and other spires and domes gliding gradually into view, we looked at
length upon Vienna! Impatiently did we pace the bank at Nussdorf, a
little village on the right of the stream, about an hour’s journey
from the walls of the city, where all boats are obliged to stop till
passports are examined, and permission given to proceed to what is
called the Schanzel landing-place, near the Ferdinand’s Brüche (Bridge
of Ferdinand.) Nearly an hour and a half were we detained at this
place, within sight of the goal we were burning to reach. The papers at
length arrived; our crew once more plied their paddles, and through the
crowd of boats moored on each side of the river, we advanced slowly,
catching occasional glimpses of new buildings and towers, as they
appeared between the tall stacks of firewood that line the banks of
this arm of the Danube. Suddenly we found ourselves under the walls
of the city, and about twenty minutes afterwards, having followed a
custom-house officer to the _mauth_ of the Schanzel, where our baggage
underwent strict examination, we entered the gates, the way to our
hotel being marshalled by a good-natured Italian, who had volunteered
his services at the custom-house. Previously, however, to quitting the
boat, the three poor women, whom we had taken on board at Marsbach,
perceiving their journey ended, requested to know what they had to
pay. On being, with some difficulty, made to understand that they were
perfectly welcome to their passage, their joy was extravagant. They
clapped their own hands, and kissed ours repeatedly, (the usual mode
of expressing thanks in Austria,) and with a chorus of “Das ist schön!
Das ist schön[88]!” shouldered their heavy bundles, and shuffled away in
high glee.

Preceded by our Italian guide, and followed by the two steersmen and
their crew carrying our luggage, we bustled  through the crowded
streets of Vienna, and crossing the square, in the centre of which
stands the fine old cathedral of St. Stephen, entered the Weyburg
Gasse, and were soon comfortably installed in the Hotel of the
Kaiserinn von Osterreich (the Empress of Austria.) Gentle reader, I
have now landed you, with myself, safely in Vienna. Do not imagine,
because I have been, perhaps, tediously minute in my descriptions up to
this period, that I am about to enter upon a long-winded geographical,
statistical, historical account of “the habitation of the Cæsars.”
We are now upon beaten ground, and even presuming that you are
unacquainted with it, there are dozens of guides much better calculated
to do the honours and show the lions of Vienna than your humble servant.

I shall therefore take the liberty, before I make my final bow, and
hand you over to the acute Russel, the pleasant Ramblers in Germany,
either military or musical--the caustic author of ‘Austria as it is,’
or any other intelligent tourist--to waft you at once to the pinnacle
of a steep hill in that gorge of the Wienerwald called the Brühl or
the Priel, behind the very ancient and picturesque little town of
Möhdling. There you are--on the steps of the “Temple of Glory,” a
handsome Doric building erected by the present Prince Lichtenstein to
the memory of the brave hussars who rescued him, at the expense of
their lives, from the French in the battle of Wagram. On the wall of
a vault, beneath the building, where their bodies are deposited, is
the following affecting inscription:--“Softly repose upon this height,
precious remains of the valiant Austrian warriors, who fell, covered
with glory, at Aspern and Wagram. Your friend is not able to reanimate
the lifeless bodies. To honour them is his duty[89].”

As he turns from perusing these lines, as honourable to the dictator
of them as to the brave men to whom they allude, the moistened eye of
the stranger wanders over the immense prospect below him, and falls
upon the very scene of their valour and their death. Yonder stretches
the wide plain upon which the fate of Austria has been twice decided.
Rudolph of Hapsburg, the founder of its noble house, there wrested the
duchy and the crown: of the empire from Ottokar, king of Bohemia, on
August 26th, A.D. 1278.

On the 5th of July, five hundred and thirty-one years afterwards, the
descendant of Rudolph saw that duchy and crown at the mercy of an
adventurer, who had, for the second time, driven him from his capital,
and now threatened the utter extinction of his dynasty. There is the
celebrated island of Lobau, out of which, after its critical escape,
the French army crossed the Danube amid night and storm, by the
dreadful light of the blazing town of Enzersdorf, into the plain of
Morava, the destined arena of that decisive combat.

      “All was prepared--the fire, the sword, the men
      To wield them in their terrible array.
      The army, like a lion from his den,
      Marched forth with nerve and sinews bent to slay,--
      A human Hydra, issuing from its fen
      To breathe destruction on its winding way.

         *       *       *       *       *

      The night was dark, and the thick mist allowed
      Nought to be seen save the artillery’s flame,
      Which arched the horizon like a fiery cloud,
      And in the Danube’s waters shone the same--
      A mirrored Hell! The volleying roar, and loud
      Long booming of each peal on peal, o’ercame
      The ear far more than thunder, for Heaven’s flashes
      Spare or smite rarely--Man’s make millions ashes!”

                         +Don Juan+, Canto 8, st. 2. 6.

There are the little villages of Essling, Aspern, and Wagram, whose
names, like those of the still more insignificant hamlets of Blenheim
and Waterloo, are ineffaceably inscribed on the tablets of Fame, though
scarcely to be distinguished in the map of Europe. Do you mark that
white building a little on this side of the city, looking, from the
height on which we stand, like the card-house of an infant? The sun now
falls upon something like a triumphal arch, on an elevation immediately
behind it--that is Schönbrunn, with its well-known Gloriette. In that
palace, is a fair-haired boy, the son of the victor in that terrible
fight, and of the daughter of the vanquished. To that fight he owes
his existence. Its issue enabled a low-born Corsican to dictate terms
to one of the most powerful monarchs in the world, and mingle his
blood with that of a line of emperors. Let us turn from these scenes
of strife and “vaulting ambition, which o’erleaps itself,” to the
forest-covered hills around, and the lovely vallies beneath us. At
the foot of that mountain lie the sulphur-baths of Baden, and beside
them opens the beautiful Helen-thal, at the mouth of which resides the
brave and popular Archduke Charles, the gallant, though unsuccessful,
opponent of Napoleon. His chateau is named Wildburg, in honour of
his Archduchess, a princess of the House of Nassau-Wildburg. There
is scarcely any garden-ground belonging to it, and he, therefore,
good-naturedly makes a garden of the whole valley, and gives the public
the benefit of it.

Every morning, during the season, the visiters of this fashionable
watering-place flock by dozens to a farm-house, belonging to the
Baron von Dopplehof, where they eat the best bread in Europe, and sip
coffee, diluted with most delicious milk, furnished by fifty Styrian
cows, all of that light dun colour which particularly distinguishes
the race. The day is divided between the bath and the shades of the
Helen-thal; and, as evening advances, the gay groups saunter back
along the banks of the rivulet that brawls through this romantic glen,
and drop leisurely into the pretty little theatre of Baden. Russel
has drawn an animated and faithful picture of this spot. I shall,
therefore, only mention a ridiculous circumstance which occurred here
a few years ago. The old wooden bridge over the rivulet I have just
mentioned, had been replaced by one of cast iron; and the completion
of this work being an important era for the little town, a procession
was formed to open the bridge, and the whole neighbourhood collected on
and round it to witness the ceremony. One of the Archdukes (Anthony,
I believe) headed the cortege, and, after it had passed over, the
burgomaster, standing in the centre of the bridge, harangued the
spectators. His speech was a model for succeeding burgomasters, to
fashion their orations by. The crowd pressed nearer and nearer to
listen, and be edified. The worthy officer warmed with his subject;
he became absolutely figurative. “Our gratitude, our attachment
(exclaimed he, in a transport of loyalty) to the illustrious House of
Hapsburg, shall remain firm and unshaken as this bridge!” but, before
he had well finished his sentence, down went bridge, burgomaster,
and audience, into the water. Whether naturally sinking under the
weight of the crowd, or kicked down by Lucifer himself, who, a rebel
from the first, might have enjoyed the consternation attendant on so
ominous a coincidence, remains to be determined. A clumsy bridge of
stone now spans the little stream of the Schwächat. To the left, almost
immediately beneath us, upon a green knoll, surrounded by gardens,
stands the venerable ruin of Lichtenstein, the castle of the ancient
princes of that name; and, facing it, the modern chateau of their
descendants. The old walls are in good preservation, and the various
apartments clearly distinguishable. The chamber of justice, into
which the criminal was drawn up by a rope from the prison beneath it,
through a hole in the floor; the prison itself, with its iron rings
and staples; and the banquet hall, now hung with full-length portraits
of the family, (none of them, by the way, painted earlier than the
sixteenth century, though some profess to represent persons who lived
in the fourteenth,) are all exceedingly interesting. Beyond it, on the
bank of the river, lies the broad city, the huge cathedral shooting
up its dark spire in the centre. From a grated window in that spire,
the faithful Starrhemberg saw the sun rise every morning upon that vast
plain, whitened with the tents of the Moslem, and watched night after
night for the joyful signals of relief. They rose at length. From those
heights, the gallant Sobieski rushed upon the panic-stricken Vizier,
who, abandoning his camp and his treasures to the victorious Pole,
fled like a tiger baffled in his spring. On the high road to Carinthia
and Italy, that runs parallel with this chain of mountains, you may
observe a slender Gothic cross, that is to say, one of those crocketted
pyramids, surmounted with a small cross, which are so called, and to be
seen in many of our own market towns. It is the Spinnerinn-am-Kreutz,
and, according to the legend, marks the spot on which a maiden vowed
to sit and spin till her lover returned from the holy land. Smile not
so contemptuously; if you are proof against “a ballad in print,” there
is also an historical interest attached to that lonely monument. It
commemorates the retreat of Solyman the Magnificent, and the valour of
an ancestor of the princely House of Schwartzenburg. For thirty days,

  “Amid the vale below,
   Tents rose, and streamers play’d,
   And javelins sparkled in the sun,
   And multitudes encamped,
   Swarmed far as eye could follow o’er the plain;
   There, in his war-pavilion, sat,
   In council with his chiefs,
   The Sultan of the Land!”

Foiled in every assault by the skill of the commandant, Nicholas
Count of Salm, by the courage of the garrison, and the loyalty of the
burghers, the advance of winter, and the dread of approaching succours,
compelled him to raise the siege, and to retreat to Buda, A.D. 1529.

Still farther eastward lies the little village of Laxendorf, with
the summer palace and gardens of Laxenburg, a favourite retreat of
the Emperor, and something between the well-known Petit-Trianon at
Versailles, and the grander Wilhelmshöe at Hessen-Cassel. Inferior to
them both in situation, it combines many of their separate attractions:
there are the rustic bridges, and Swiss cottages of the former, and
the modern antique castle of the latter. Instead of the splendid
waterworks of Wilhelmshöe, you must be contented, however, with the
calm, clear lakes of Laxendorf, in which myriads of enormous carp
battle for the large crusts flung to them by the guide, their scaly
armour glittering in the sun, like

  “Mingled metal damasked o’er with gold.”

In the centre of one of these lakes rises an island fortress. At a
given signal a boat pushes off from the watergate, you are ferried
over, and enter the court-yard of the building, which is fitted
up in strict conformity to the taste of the middle ages. Like the
Lowenburg at Wilhelmshoe, all the furniture of this fortress is really
antique--the carved oaken ceilings and wainscots having been brought
from suppressed monasteries and demolished castles. The beds, chairs,
tables, etc., collected in a similar manner, are also extremely curious.
Around the skirting-board of one of the apartments on the ground floor,
is a most interesting painting of a procession to the lists, of the
time of Maximilian I., and resembling in some degree the prints of
his “Triumph” by Hans Burgmair. The heralds and pursuivants, habited
alternately in the colours of the empire and the duchy, are followed
by the Emperor himself, armed at all points for the tournament, and
twenty or thirty knights, riding in couples, their ponderous tilting
helmets crested and garlanded in the elaborate German fashion, and
their horses splendid with engraved chanfrons and emblazoned housings.
The procession is closed by the priest and the surgeon, and the
Todtwagen, or hearse to carry away the slain champions! A long narrow
gallery, on the highest floor of the building, hung with the costumes
of all the European nations during the sixteenth century, leads to a
dimly-lighted, unfurnished turret-chamber, the only ornaments of which
are three small half-length portraits of Phillip II. of Spain, his
queen Isabel, and his unfortunate son Don Carlos. The gloom of the
chamber, its desolate appearance, so opposite to that of the other
apartments, which are profusely decorated and furnished; the three
pale faces of the principal actors in that most dreadful of domestic
tragedies, glaring at one another from the opposite walls, send a cold
shudder through your frame; and you hasten from the spot, as though
murder had been freshly committed there, and the dark shadow of the
retiring assassin was yet gliding along the floor of the adjacent
gallery! The Knight’s Castle, as that building is called, has also its
state apartments; its chamber of justice; its prison with a puppet
prisoner, (the only piece of bad taste about it,[90]) and its armoury.
The latter contains some handsome fluted and embossed suits, but
nothing particularly ancient[91]; throughout Germany, the richest suit
of armour, whatever may be its date, is invariably appropriated to the
Emperor Maximilian, though in the same collection; and standing next to
it, is a suit which probably did belong to him, or, at least, is of the
same period. From the Knight’s Castle, you are led to  the Knight’s
Chapel, his tilt-yard, and his farm; the upper apartments of the latter
are filled with ancient cabinets, paintings, and curiosities of every
description. Laxendorf is first mentioned by old Minnesänger Tanhuser,
who, having wandered from land to land, and from court to court, and
seen, as he himself informs us, Crete, Jerusalem, Cyprus, Normandy,
Antioch, Coblenz (!), Rome, and Pisa, came to Vienna during the reign
of the Emperor Frederick II., who highly patronized him, and gave him a
residence in the capital, and other property in its neighbourhood.

      “Zu Wiene hat ich einen Hof
       Der lag so rechte schöne;
       Lupolzdorf was darzuo min
       Das lit (liegt) bi _Luchse_ nahen;
       Ze Hinperg hat ich schöne guot,” etc.

Laxendorf, lying close by Leopoldsdorf and Himperg, is evidently the
Luchse of our fortunate Minnesänger; and, towards the close of the
thirteenth century, we find the name of one Pertold, of Lachsindorf.
In 1330, Albert II., surnamed the Lame, Duke of Austria, possessed a
castle at Lachsindorf, and Duke Albert III., “with the tress,” built
a new castle upon the site of the old one, and had the magnificent
furniture and valuable antiquities which had previously adorned Saint
Leopold’s castle on the Khalenberg, removed to this place, which became
his favourite residence; where, shaking off as much as possible the
cares of sovereignty and secular pomp, he worked in the garden with his
own hands, and, studying Palladius on rural economy, amused himself
with planting and horticulture. Its marshy situation, however, is
supposed to have shortened the life of this amiable prince. Seized,
during an expedition into Bohemia, with a mortal disorder, of which
he had here laid the foundation, he was conveyed back in haste to
Laxendorf, and died on the 29th of August, 1395, aged forty-six, amid
the lamentations of the citizens of Vienna, who crowded round his
corse, exclaiming, “We have lost our friend, our true father!”

In 1683, the Turks laid Laxendorf in ashes. It was rebuilt by the
Emperor Leopold I.; and his son Charles IV., in his brown surtout and
bag-wig, here delighted to “bait the heron.” Joseph II. turned the
old blaue-haus[92], which was formerly the falconry, into the imperial
residence. The Gothic toy on the lake owes its existence to a whim of
the late Empress of Austria.

But the sun is fast descending behind us--his last rays are lighting
up the boundless prospect. Let me take advantage of them to point out
to you the only remaining object of interest in the picture: on that
gray conical hill, that, dimly looming on the verge of the horizon,
might almost be mistaken for a cloud, stands the castle of Presburg;
at its foot lies the capital of Hungary, and past it hurries the broad
Danube, widening, deepening, and strengthening, as it flows, wheeling
to the south round the walls of Buda, washing those of Belgrade, and
bearing the tributes of the Save, the Drave, the Teiss, and the Pruth,
through the swamps of Bess-Arabia into the dark Euxine. At the moment I
am speaking, the eyes of  all Europe are bent in the same direction.
The cannon has been fired that may shake the peace of the world. The
flames that are kindling on the shores of the Black Sea may spread
to the mouths of the Mississippi. But I have neither the talent nor
the ambition to be a politician or a prophet; and so farewell, gentle
reader: the bugles of the peaceful herdsmen, saluting some returning
visiters of Baden, shall “sing truce” to our warlike speculations, for

      “The night cloud has lower’d,
       And sentinel stars set their watch in the sky.”

It is time to hurry down from the Temple of Glory, and return to the
gay city. Go lounge upon the bustling and brilliant Graben--gaze upon
the pyrotechnics of the Prater, or laugh in the little theatre of
Leopoldstadt--seek the Glacis, the Volksgarten, or the Opera. I leave
you with this conviction, that if I have only been fortunate enough to
induce you to descend the Danube to Vienna, there is little doubt of
obtaining your pardon for any failure in my attempt to amuse you on
your way.


                       FOOTNOTES (CHAPTER VIII.)

[82] Much gold has really been found in the sands of the Danube, the
Inn, and the Iser, and several _gold-waschereys_, as they are called,
have formerly existed on the banks of these rivers. The peculiar wealth
of the sands at Langenlebern has been accounted for, by the peasantry,
from the circumstance of Draculf, Bishop of Freysing, being drowned off
this bank, A.D. 926, and carrying down with him forty pounds weight
of gold, which he had smuggled out of the Kloster of Mosburg, and had
secured in his girdle!

[83] On some old weapons in the Rüstkammer or armoury of the castle,
the arms of the house of Greifenstein are yet to be seen so blazoned.

[84] A square hole in the earth with an iron grating over it is still
shown here as the place of confinement of some clergyman, who shared
his crust with a young snake, that thrived so wonderfully upon prison
allowance, that self-preservation at last compelled him to kill it
while asleep with a stick, that is also shown in the dungeon.

[85] It was originally called Neuenburg, Neuenburch, and Niwenburg, and
appears to have been strongly fortified.

[86] Albert IV., Duke of Austria, died here on the 14th of September,
1404, in the twenty-seventh year of his age; and the Empress Wilhelmina
Amelia, widow of Joseph I., also ended her days here in April 1742.

[87] This Emperor, who, to use his own words, “with the best
intentions, never carried a single project into execution,” in his
laudable attempts to purify religion from the dregs of superstition,
reduced the number of convents in Austria from two thousand and
twenty-four, to seven hundred. Vide Coxe’s _History of the House of
Austria_. The learned Archdeacon has justly and eloquently described
the character of the kind-hearted but inconsistent Joseph; but I am at
a loss to know why a Christian minister should include the following
ordinance amongst “the _childish_ and _ridiculous_ regulations” of
the Emperor. “Thou shalt forbear all occasions of dispute relative to
matters of faith; and thou shalt, according to the true principles of
Christianity, affectionately and kindly treat those who are not of thy
communion.” (Ord. October 24, 1781.)

[88] “That’s fine!” or, as we should say, “capital.”

[89] “Ruhet sanft auf diesen höhen edle gebeine tapferer Oesterreichs
Krieger; Ruhm bedeckt bey Aspern und Wagram gefallen vermag euer freund
nicht, die entseelten leichname zu beleben; sie zu ehren ist seine
pflicht.”

[90] Yes, there is another. On the gates of the castle are daubed two
sentinels armed cap à pied! Forcibly recalling to my memory the figures
painted in the sentry-boxes, which were wont to delight and terrify me
when an urchin, and cause many a clandestine expedition to Bayswater
tea-gardens.

[91] The oldest piece of armour I have seen in Germany, is in the
collection at the Lowenburg, at Wilhelmshöe. It is a moveable visor of
the close of the fourteenth century; but both possessors and exhibitors
are evidently ignorant of its value and antiquity.

[92] “Blue-House,”--this, however, is a corruption. The name of
Blaue-Haus is derived, not from the ancient colour of its walls, as
the vulgar suppose, but from the family of Plauenstein, its original
possessors.




                                 NAMES

                                OF THE

          CITIES, TOWNS, VILLAGES, CASTLES, MONASTERIES, etc.

                                ON THE

                         BANKS OF THE DANUBE,

                       FROM RATISBON TO VIENNA.


                    *RIGHT BANK.*    ⇊    *LEFT BANK.*
       +Regensburg+ _or_ +Ratisbon+. ⇊ Stadt-am-Hof.
                                     ⇊ Reinhausen.
                                     ⇊ Weichs.
                         St. Nicola. ⇊ Schwabelweiss.
              Einhausen or Bürgelut. ⇊ Tegernheim.
                           Irlmauth. ⇊
                           Kreuzhof. ⇊ Donaustauf. (Ruin.)
                            Barbing. ⇊ Reifelding. St.Salvator.
                                     ⇊ Sulzbach.
                           Sarching. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Demling.
                         Nassenhart. ⇊ Bach.
                          Friesheim. ⇊ Frenghofen.
                           Ilkhofen. ⇊ Kruckenberg. Ettersdorf.
                     Altach. Auburg. ⇊ Kirfenholz.
                            Eltheim. ⇊
                          Gaissling. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Gieffen.
                       Seppenhausen. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Oberachdorf. Wiesent.
     1st Post Station from} Pfätter. ⇊
                Regensburg}          ⇊
                                     ⇊ Wörth (Chateau.)
                                     ⇊ Hungerdorf.
                                     ⇊ Tiefenthal.
                     Griefau. Gmund. ⇊ Keesel. Hochdorf.
                           Herrfurt. ⇊
                             Irling. ⇊ Heiligen Blut or Niederach.
                                     ⇊ Bogen or Hagenhof.
                           Aholfing. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Sinzendorf.
                                     ⇊ Pondorf.
                                     ⇊ Zeitsdorf or Zeitlarn.
                                     ⇊ Weihern.
                                     ⇊ Beichsee. Kirchenroth.
              (Ruin.) Ober and Unter ⇊ Pittrich. Neidau.
                            Motzing. ⇊
                        Landersdorf. ⇊ Kössnach. Pfaffenmünster.
                       Breitenfield. ⇊ Hartzeitdorn.
               Einhausen.  Rinkheim. ⇊ Sossau.
                             Eberau. ⇊
                        Moosklagers. ⇊ Sossauer Beschlacht.
                                     ⇊ Hormannsdorf or Hornsdorf
 2nd Post Station from}              ⇊
   Regensburg         } +Straubing.+ ⇊ Thurmhof.
                          Atzelburg. ⇊ Ober and Unter Parkstetten.
                                     ⇊ Reibersdorf.
                    Hochstätter Hof. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Lenach.
           Aiterhofen. Ittling. Ober ⇊
                    and Unter Ebling ⇊
                                     ⇊ Ober-Altaich. (Kloster.)
                  Hundersdorf. Saut. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Bogen and the Bogenberg.
                                     ⇊  (Ruin.)
                             Absarn. ⇊
                        Hermansdorf. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Hüttenhof. Hofweinzier.
                                     ⇊ Holzkirch.
                                     ⇊ Anning. Dörfl.
               Einbrach or Kinbrach. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Pfelling.
             Mitterdorf. Hindeldorf. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Linzing. Esper. Weichenberg.
                    Endau or Zengau. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Allkofen.
                                     ⇊ Albertskirchen.
                                     ⇊ Petzendorf.
             Strasskirchen. Irlbach. ⇊ Wallendorf.
                              Loche. ⇊ Rafer or Asperhof.
                        Wischelberg. ⇊ Aichach.
                                     ⇊
                   Stephan-Posching. ⇊ Maria-Posching.
                         Uttenkofen. ⇊ Hundeldorf.
                          Steinfurt. ⇊ Sommersdorf.
                       Steinkirchen. ⇊ Klein-Schwarzach.
                           Bergheim. ⇊ Ziedeldorf. Offenberg.
                                     ⇊ Neuhausen.
                                     ⇊ Himmelberg.
                        Metten Ufer. ⇊ Metten. (Kloster.)
                 (Ruin) Natternberg. ⇊ Helfkam.
                        Fischerdorf. ⇊ Schäching.
                                     ⇊ Deggendorf.
                                     ⇊ Deggenau.
  3d Post Station from} Plattling on ⇊
            Regensburg}     the Inn. ⇊ Halbe-Meile-Kirche.
                         Isragemünd. ⇊ Seebach.
                                     ⇊ Reit.
                                     ⇊ Helmdorf.
                                     ⇊ Unter Schwarzach.
                                     ⇊ Hengersberg. (Ruin.)
                           Thundorf. ⇊ Nieder Altaich. (Kloster.)
                                     ⇊ Alten Ufer.
                                     ⇊ Gindlau.
                              Aicha. ⇊
                Haardorf. Kreuzberg. ⇊
                   Säge. Münchsdorf. ⇊
                Osterhofen. Mulheim. ⇊ Winzer. Hochwinzer.(Ruin.)
            Rockessing.  Pockessing. ⇊ Loh. Kinschbach.
                         Rossfelden. ⇊
                        Guscherdorf. ⇊ Mittau.
                             Endsau. ⇊ Nesselbach.
                             Biflez. ⇊ Leiten.
                                     ⇊ Hofkirchen. (Ruin.)
            Kinzing.  Langenkinzing. ⇊
                           Herzogau. ⇊
                          Pleinting. ⇊ Ober and Unter Schöllenbach
                                     ⇊ Gelbersdorf.
                             Euröde. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Hildegardsberg. (Ruin.)
                               Reif. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Albersdorf.
                           Wisbauer. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Schmelz.
                         U. L. Frau. ⇊
   4th Post Station from} Vilshofen. ⇊
              Regensburg}            ⇊ Winkel.
                                     ⇊ Hacheldorf.
                           Witzling. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Windorf.
                          Hannsbach. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Eglsee.
                           Ottenham. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Gerharding.
                           Sandbach. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Fisching.
                            Kötzing. ⇊
                         Leestätten. ⇊ Deichselberg.
                                     ⇊
                              Einöd. ⇊ Kling.
                           Biberach. ⇊ Geishofen.
                          Schalding. ⇊ Iring.
                                     ⇊ Söldern.
                     Reit. Ord. Hof. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Alaning.
                                     ⇊ Donauhof.
                Dobelstein. Haining. ⇊ Wörth.
                                     ⇊ Maierhof.
                          Steinbach. ⇊ Stölzel-hof.
                                     ⇊ Freunde. Hain.
    5th Post Station from} +Passau.+ ⇊
               Regensburg}           ⇊
                                     ⇊ Ilz-stadt. Oberhaus.
                        Truckerheim. ⇊
                          Achleiten. ⇊
                               Parz. ⇊ Lindau.
                               Aich. ⇊ Aichet.
                        Schildbauer. ⇊ Leiten.
                                     ⇊ Wingertsdorf.
            Unter-Mitter-Esternberg. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Schergendorf.
         Deitzendorf. Hetzmannsdorf. ⇊
            (Chateau.) Krempenstein. ⇊
                           Pirawang. ⇊
                      Unter Schacha. ⇊ Mazenberg.
                                     ⇊                     {(Bavarian
              Ober Hütt. Hochleiten. ⇊ Ober or Hafner-Zell.{ Custom-
                                     ⇊                     { House.)
                             Kasten. ⇊ Ober  } Grunau.
                                     ⇊ Unter }
            (Chateau.) Fichtenstein. ⇊
                                     ⇊(River middle: Jochenstein, or
                                     ⇊  Grenzberg.)
                                     ⇊ Gottsdorf.
          (Austrian} Engelhardszell. ⇊ Ried. (Ruin.)
     Custom-House.)}                 ⇊
                                     ⇊
                     Ober }          ⇊ Rana-Riedl. (Chateau.)
                     Unter} Leitner. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Rana-bach and Mühle.
                          Ober-Rana. ⇊ Ufer.
                             Kacher. ⇊ Nieder Rana.
                                     ⇊ Marsbach. (Ruin.)
                        Wesen Urfar. ⇊ Marsbach Zell, or Frey Zell.
                   Ober } Wollmarkt. ⇊
                   Unter}            ⇊
            (Ruin.)     Waldkirchen. ⇊
                             Pulhof. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Kirschbaum, or Hayenbach. (Ruin.)
      The Schlagen, or Schlägleiten. ⇊
                        Lidritzhueb. ⇊ Lidritzhueb.
                                     ⇊ Au.
                            Im-Zell. ⇊ Ob.
                        Fadenau-Hof. ⇊
                     Ober } Schwend. ⇊ Ober-Michel. Kirschberg.
                     Unter}          ⇊
                       Hinter-Aigen. ⇊ Dorf.
                                     ⇊ Windberg.
                                     ⇊ Neuhaus. (Ruin and Chateau.)
                        Schönleiten. ⇊
                        Rosengarten. ⇊
                     Stauf. Aschach. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Landshag.
               Hartkirchen. Dorsham. ⇊ Ober Walsee.  Eschelberg.
                                     ⇊ Mülhachen.   Bergheim.
                 (Ruin.) Schaumberg. ⇊
                            Pupping. ⇊
                         Gstettenau. ⇊ Hofham.
                                 Au. ⇊ Auerdorf.
                         Waschpoint. ⇊
                              Wörth. ⇊ Mohrhäusel.
   8th Post Station from} Efferding. ⇊
              Regensburg}     Schab. ⇊
                Taubenbraun. Gablau. ⇊
                Raffolding. Ihndorf. ⇊ Bösenbach.  Bach.
                         Tratteneck. ⇊
               Strass. Emling. Aham. ⇊
                            Stocköd. ⇊ Goldwarth.
                          Basleiten. ⇊
                           Hartheim. ⇊ Waldinger.
                            Alkofen. ⇊
               Garderiener. Hagenau. ⇊
                            Bergham. ⇊
                           Gohbesch. ⇊
                             Steger. ⇊
                           Schwagen. ⇊ Rodel.
                         Schönering. ⇊
                            Im-Fall. ⇊ Höflein.
                              Urfar. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Ottensheim. (Chateau.)
               (Kloster.) Willering. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Buchenau.
                                     ⇊ Hager Schloschen.
                      Calvarienberg. ⇊
                        Margarethen. ⇊ Pöstlingberg.
      9th Post Station from} +Linz.+ ⇊ Urfar.
                Regensburg.}         ⇊
                                     ⇊ Anhof.
                                     ⇊ Pflaster.
                                     ⇊ Harbarz.
                                     ⇊ Bach.
                                     ⇊ Furth.
                   Ober } Rosenthal. ⇊ Magdalena.
                   Unter}            ⇊
                                     ⇊ Dornach.
                                     ⇊ Furtner.
                                     ⇊ Katsbach.
                                     ⇊ Plösching.
                         Kaufleuten. ⇊ Binneshäuser.
                        Blankenreit. ⇊ Spital.
                Zitzelau. St. Peter. ⇊ Dörfl.
                           Ebelsberg ⇊
                             on the  ⇊ Steyereck. (Ruin.)
                              Traun. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Pulgarn.
                          Traundorf. ⇊ Reichenbach.
                              Bosch. ⇊ Luftenberg.
                     Unger Bichling. ⇊ Hof-im-Schlag.
 Monastery of St. Florian} Fosterau. ⇊
               and Markt.}  Fischau. ⇊ Himberg.
                      Rafferstetten. ⇊ Auwinden.
                              Asten. ⇊ St. Georgen.
            (Chateau.) Tilly’s Burg. ⇊ Gusen. Wirthshaus. Frankenberg.
                             Kronau. ⇊
                  (Ruin.) Spielberg. ⇊ Langenstein.
      10th Post Station from} +Ens.+ ⇊ Urfar.
                  Regensburg}        ⇊
         Ensdorf. St. Lorenz. Lorch. ⇊ Mauthausen.  Pragstein.
                           Enghazen. ⇊
                              Tabor. ⇊
                Windpassing. Biburg. ⇊ Reissersdorf.
                             Albing. ⇊ Albing.
                             Albern. ⇊ Niedersebing.
                              Stein. ⇊ Au. Berg. Auhof. Mitterberg.
                             Wagram. ⇊ Hartschlössel.
                      St. Pantaleon. ⇊ Naarn.
                       Erla Kloster. ⇊ Anhäusel. Strass. M. Lab. Arbing.
                                     ⇊ Baumgarten.
                          Breitfeld. ⇊ Stafling.
                           Weinberg. ⇊ Holzleiten.
                                     ⇊ Starzing.
                             Oberau. ⇊ Rupertshofen. Münzbach.
                                     ⇊ Windhag. Allerheiligen.
                                     ⇊ St. Thomas.
                                     ⇊
                          Engelberg. ⇊
                          Engelthal. ⇊
                           Mitterau. ⇊
                                Lin. ⇊
                            Unterau. ⇊
                                Eck. ⇊
                           Gersberg. ⇊ Langacker. Wagerhof.
                          Achleiten. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Gang.
     11th Post Station } Strengberg. ⇊ Weisching.
      from Regensburg. }             ⇊
                                     ⇊ Inzing.
                               Haag. ⇊ Hördorf.
                           Stauding. ⇊ Hulting.
                 Hörling.  Sindburg. ⇊ Mitterkirchen.
            Niederwalsee. (Chateau.) ⇊
                                     ⇊
                      Ober} Sumerau. ⇊ Menschdorf.
                     Unter}          ⇊
                           Leitzing. ⇊
                           Im Brüch. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Eizindorf. Froschau.
                                     ⇊ Saxen.
                                     ⇊ Dornach.
                                     ⇊ Klam. (Chateau)
                                     ⇊ Hofkirchen.
                          Hagenauer. ⇊ Petzeldorf.
                        Bocksreiter. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Rinzenhof.
                           Ardagger. ⇊ Saurüsselleiten.
                           Winkling. ⇊
                          Mayherhof. ⇊ Tiefenbach.
                                     ⇊ Wies.
                               Wies. ⇊ Grein. (Chateau.)
                                     ⇊ Giesenbach.
                                     ⇊ River Middle (
                                     ⇊ Strudel and } Wirbel.
                                     ⇊ Schloss Werfenstein. })
                                     ⇊ Struden. (Ruin.)
                   (Ruin.) Haustein. ⇊ St. Nikola.
                                     ⇊ Sarblingstein.
                  (Ruin.)  Hirschau. ⇊ Hirschau.
               (Ruin.)  Freyenstein. ⇊
                             Dörfel. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Isper.
                                     ⇊ Weins.
                                     ⇊ Marhof.
               (Chateau.) Donaudorf. ⇊ Kiernholz.
                                     ⇊ Bösenbeug.  (Chateau)
                              +Ips.+ ⇊
                         Hinterhaus. ⇊ Taberg.
                         Ober} Agen. ⇊ Gottsdorf.
                        Unter}       ⇊
                        Säusenstein. ⇊ Barthub.
                                     ⇊ Mötzling.
                                     ⇊ Rohberg.
                                     ⇊ Rosenbühel.
                          Idersdorf. ⇊ Loja.
                                     ⇊ Thümling.
                                     ⇊ Auratsberg.
                                     ⇊ Kranz.
                                     ⇊ Marbach. Maria-Taferl.
                                     ⇊ Schelmenbach.
                       Krumnussbaum. ⇊ Krumnussbaum.
                                     ⇊
                           Pechlarn. ⇊ Klein Pechlarn.
                              Wörth. ⇊ Ebersdorf.
                                     ⇊ Lehen.
                                     ⇊ Urfar.
                                     ⇊ Weideneck. (Ruin.)
                                     ⇊ St. Georgen.
                                     ⇊ Hain.
        14th Post Station} (Kloster) ⇊
          from Regensburg}     Mölk. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Emmersdorf.
                               Hueb. ⇊ Schall-Emersdorf.
                                     ⇊ Gosam.
                                     ⇊ Urfar. Grinzing.
                         Schönbühel. ⇊
                      Schönbühelhof. ⇊ Markt Aggsbach. Aggstein.
                                     ⇊   (Ruin.)
                     Dorf Aggsbach.  ⇊
                                     ⇊ Willendorf.
                                     ⇊ Groisbach.
                         St. Johann. ⇊ Schwallenbach.
                      Ober Arnsdorf. ⇊
                       Hof Arnsdorf. ⇊ Erlahöfe.
                     Unter Arnsdorf. ⇊ Spitz. Hinterhaus (Ruin.)
                      Bach Arnsdorf. ⇊ St. Michael.
                    Ober} Kienstock. ⇊ Wesendorf.
                   Unter}            ⇊
                         St. Lorenz. ⇊ Joching.
                                     ⇊ Weissenkirchen.
                          Ruhrsdorf. ⇊
                             Rossaz. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Dürrenstein. (Ruin.)
                           Hundheim. ⇊ Ober }
                                     ⇊ Unter} Löben.
                            +Mautern.+ ⇊ +Stein.+
                                     ⇊ +Krems.+
                   Kloster-Göttweih. ⇊
                               Palt. ⇊ Weinzierl.
                       Brunnkirchen. ⇊ Landersdorf.
                            Thalern. ⇊ Röhrendorf.
                             Angern. ⇊
                          Wolfsberg. ⇊ Weidling.
                                     ⇊ Neu-Weidling.
                                     ⇊ Teiss.
                  (Ruin.) Holenburg. ⇊
                             Wagram. ⇊ Schlickendorf.
                        St. Georgen. ⇊ Donaudorf. Grunddorf.
                        Rittersfeld. ⇊
                        Trasenmauer. ⇊
                         Stollhofen. ⇊ Jedtsdorf.
                         Frauendorf. ⇊ Grafenwörth.
                           Preiwitz. ⇊ Wasen.
                                     ⇊ St. Johann.
                                     ⇊  Ober}
                                     ⇊   und} Lebern.
                                     ⇊ Unter}
                           Bodensee. ⇊ Sachsendorf.
                                     ⇊ Kollersdorf.
                          Kleindorf. ⇊ Altenwörth.
                           Berndorf. ⇊ Gugging.
                                     ⇊ Winkel.
                        Zwentendorf. ⇊ Frauendorf.
                         Erpersdorf. ⇊ Birnbaum.
                   Klein Schönbuhel. ⇊ Urzenlaa.
                             Kronau. ⇊ Möllersdorf.
                             Aspern. ⇊ Neuaigen.
                                     ⇊ Triebensee.
                               Tuln. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Perzendorf.
                                     ⇊ Ober Schmidabach.
                                     ⇊ Zana.
            Ober und Unter Aigen, or ⇊ Schmida.
              Langenlebern.          ⇊
                                     ⇊ Ober }
                         Muckendorf. ⇊ und  } Zeyersdof.
                                     ⇊ Unter}
                        Zeiselmauer. ⇊
                             Wörten. ⇊ Stockerau.
                          St. Andre. ⇊
                          Altenberg. ⇊
               (Ruin.) Greifenstein. ⇊
                                     ⇊ Spillern.
                            Hoflein. ⇊ Alt-Kreutzerstein.
                   Ober Kritzendorf. ⇊ Korneuburg.
                           St. Veit. ⇊
                  Unter Kritzendorf. ⇊ Bisamberg.
                    Kloster-Neuburg. ⇊ Tuttenhof. Dorf.
                           Weidling. ⇊ Lang-Enzersdorf.
 Josephsberg, Leopoldsberg,} Dorfel. ⇊ Jetelsee.
both called the Khalenberg.}         ⇊
                           Nussdorf. ⇊
                     Heiligen Stadt. ⇊ Gedlersdorf am Spitz.
                            Döbling. ⇊
                            +Wien+,} ⇊
                                 or} ⇊
                          +Vienna+,} ⇊

19th Post Station, and 27 Posts from Regensburg, or 243 English miles.
Distance by water about 300 English miles.

                               THE END.


             Printed by +William Clowes+, Stamford Street.




     _Speedily will be published, in illustration of this Volume_,

                      FORTY VIEWS ON THE DANUBE,

                     DRAWN ON STONE +BY+ L. HAGHE,

                                 FROM

              SKETCHES MADE ON THE SPOT BY J. R. PLANCHE.

                         No. I. will contain:

                  1. Ratisbon, from Höhen-Schambach.
                  2. Donaustauf.
                  3. Schloss Wörth.
                  4. Straubing.




                         TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES

Spelling, including inconsistent usage and forms reflecting local,
historical, or foreign-language usage, has been retained as printed.
This includes apparent misspellings in German names or words (e.g.
Thurm/Thurn), which have not been changed.

Minor inconsistencies in spacing and punctuation have been silently
standardized.

Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected (e.g.
"astonishings pectacle").

The following markings were use to indicate how the original text was
formatted: "_" for _italic_, "*" for *bold*, and "+" for +small-caps+.

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78472 ***