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Updated: August 27, 2024
Where the hill-sides are too steep for cultivation, they are formed into terraces, as you see them." The steamer stopped a few moments at Bingen, which contains about seventy-five hundred inhabitants. "On our left, now, are the dominions of the King of Prussia the Rhenish provinces. On our right, as before, is the Duchy of Nassau. What do you think of the Rhine now?" asked Dr. Winstock.
On the right, dropping behind us, was Bingen, famous in legend and in song, and on the left, in the foreground, appeared the curious spires and roofs of Rüdesheim. The scene was an ideal tableau, such as Byron describes, of the
Bingen capitulated; Landor, Mannheim, Neustadt, and several other places were taken; and thus from Strasburg to a point near Coblenz, the whole course of the Rhine, the Palatine, and all the country between the Rhine and the Moselle fell into the hands of the French. Enghien returned to pass the winter in Paris.
He compares this portion of the rill to the Rhine valley between Bingen and Coblentz, but adds that the latter, if viewed from the moon, would probably not present so fresh an appearance, and would, of course, be frequently obscured by clouds.
"This is Boppart, a very old place, occupied by the Romans," said Dr. Winstock, as the steamer made a landing. "You have noticed that the shelf of land on each side of the river, grows wider and the hills are farther from the stream. Between this point and Bingen, the Rhine makes its passage through the mountains.
A sudden rush from the stairway, A sudden raid from the hall! By three doors left unguarded They enter my castle wall! They climb up into my turret O'er the arms and back of my chair; If I try to escape, they surround me; They seem to be everywhere. They almost devour me with kisses Their arms about me entwine, Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!
"A soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers, There was lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of woman's tears." How she loved the swing and the sentiment of it! How her young voice quivered whenever she came to the refrain: "But we'll meet no more at Bingen, dear Bingen on the Rhine." It always sounded beautiful in her ears, as she sent her tearful little treble into the clear morning air.
"And then the scene changed and I was in Bingen with my Barbara, laughing into the faces of Karl and his Jenny, and Karl was picking the bits of rice from his pockets and laughing at the joke, while poor Jenny blushed crimson. What Engels said at the grave I couldn't tell; I didn't hear it at all, for my mind was far away.
In front, at a little distance, was the castle of Pfalz, in the middle of the river, and from the heights above Caub frowned the crumbling citadel of Gutenfels. Imagine all this, and tell me if it is not a picture whose memory should last a lifetime. We came at last to Bingen, the southern gate of the highlands.
At Mayence the course of the river changes to west, and again at Bingen to the north-west, where the mountains again force it into a narrow channel; and for fifty miles the stream flows through a beautiful region, where the hills extend to its very banks, and many of their summits are crowned with old castles. Below Cologne, the Rhine runs through a low and flat country.
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