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Rhondorf shows us a monument of one of the last robber-lords of Drachenfels, and Honnef a smiling modern settlement, a very Nice of the North, where the climate draws together people of means and leisure, littérateurs, retired merchants and collectors of art-treasures, as well as health-seekers.
Bernhard had spoken threateningly, and lo! with a great stir in the branches, a throng of numberless nightingales rose from the bushes, filled the forest once more with their glorious song, and fled with a great flapping of wings. They settled down in the valley of Honnef, and no excommunication has driven them from there.
The mountain protects it from the icy winds of the north, and the breezes blow gently in the valley, which may be called the German Nice. When the setting sun reminds the wanderer on the Drachenfels of coming darkness, and he strolls down through the valley of Honnef, the songs of numerous nightingales sound in his ears.
This has been the meeting-place of these songsters for many a long year, and there is an old legend which gives us the reason. There was a time when they used to sing in the forest round the old Abbey Himmerode, as they now do in the valley of Honnef.
These heaps of rocky ground which they had dug out were so great, that ever since they have been called the Seven Mountains, and will remain there until the Giants come again and sweep them away. The Nightingale Valley at Honnef Honnef is one of the most lovely little spots on the earth, nestling sweetly at the foot of the old Drachenfels.
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