Frankfort.

Dear Charley:—

We had no more pleasant day in our excursion than from Cologne to Coblentz. It would be long before I grew tired of the scenery at that fine old place. We walked about, in the evening, with our New York friends; and, though some parts of Coblentz are very filthy, there are some exquisite plots in it, and all the vicinage is beautiful. We took a pleasant stroll to the bridge which spans the blue Moselle with fourteen arches. The city stands on a point of land formed by the two rivers, and hence was known to the Romans by the name of Confluentes. Drusus fortified this place and Ehrenbreitstein thirteen years before Christ. Its population is short of twenty thousand; but there are also four thousand five hundred Prussian troops at the fortress. This is one of the strongest military posts in Europe. Its fortifications have been the labor of long years; and the works here, united with those across the river, are deemed impregnable. I believe Ehrenbreitstein is called the Gibraltar of Germany. It mounts four hundred cannon, and the magazines will contain provisions for eight thousand men for ten years. The former Electoral Palace is now the Government House, and presents a very noble appearance from the river. It is either stone, or stuccoed, with an Ionic portico; and, with its wings, is five hundred and forty feet front. All round this city, the heights are strongly fortified; and, look where you may, you see means of defence.

We here determined upon an excursion to Stolzenfels, which is about four miles from Coblentz, and our party went in two carriages—the family of Mr. B. in one, and ourselves in the other. The ride was very pleasant along the banks of the Rhine, and through orchards and vineyards—the heights towering away over us all the way. We came to the village of Capellen, which is a poor little hamlet at the base of the lofty mountain on which stood the noble ruins of Stolzenfels Castle, which has been most admirably restored, and is now the summer palace of the King of Prussia. The ascent is very steep, but the road is admirable. Carriages are not allowed to go up, and travellers are supplied with donkeys, of which we found plenty in waiting. Our party all obtained these patient beasts of burden, and I assure you that we made a funny cavalcade. I do think it would have amused you to see ladies, gentlemen, and boys, all escorted by ragged urchins, mounting the hill. The road has been made at immense expense, and winds along in the most romantic manner—giving you, at every turn, the finest views and catches of the river, up and down; while the walls are frequently at the edges of precipices, from fifty to two hundred feet over the ravines below. The woods were in all their glory, and I never saw a finer day. On arriving at the castle, we rang a bell, and the servant in livery appeared—a fine, civil fellow he was. On entering, we were all furnished with felt slippers, so that, in walking through the apartments, we might not injure the polished oak floors. This castle was the residence of Archbishop Werner, who, at the close of the fourteenth century, was devoted to alchemy. The old tower is an immense affair, and still remains, and is likely to remain for ages. The new parts of the palace have all been restored with constant reference to the original architectural style. We wandered from one apartment to another, perhaps going into twenty or thirty apartments, none of which were very large, and many of them quite small and cosy. We saw the bed-room of the king. Every thing was plain, and the furniture generally made of oak or black walnut. His study table had pen and ink and paper upon it, just as if he had stepped out of the room. The queen's apartments were very elegantly plain, and her oratory is as pretty a little thing as you can imagine. In all these apartments are fine pictures, and one is superbly frescoed with allegory and history. The room in which the Queen of England and Prince Albert lodged, in 1845, was shown us, and the state bed was still in it. The dining hall was finely ornamented with carvings, old armor, &c. But a room devoted to antiquities pleased us the best of all. Here were cups, bottles, and glass goblets of the earliest dates,—some as far back as the twelfth and thirteenth centuries,—which had belonged to emperors and electors whom I cannot recollect, they were so many. On the walls were the most precious mementoes; and here we saw the swords of Marshal Tilly, Napoleon Bonaparte,—the one used at Waterloo,—Blucher, and Murat, and the knife and fork belonging to the brave Hofer, the Tyrolese patriot, who was shot at Mantua. From all the windows of this gem of a palace we had the finest views of the river, and could see, from the gateway and platform, Coblentz, Ehrenbreitstein, and eleven different ruins of castles and convents. Directly in front of us, on a bend of the river, almost making a peninsula, was Lahnstein and its ruined castle; off to its right, Braubach, and the Castle of Marksburg and Martin's Chapel; and, on our own side, the pretty village of Rheus, where was once "the royal seat," and where the electors of the Rhine used to meet, to elect or depose the emperors of Germany. All round the castle of Stolzenfels are the choicest flowers and shrubs; and I wish some of my horticultural friends could have seen the moss roses and fuchias in such luxuriance. We were sorry to leave the place; but the steamboat on the Rhine is as punctual as a North River boat; and we had to resume our donkeys, descend to the carriages, drive briskly, and were just in time to get on board a boat bound to Mayence. In going up the river, we saw the palace again to great advantage; and, whatever else I forget, this locality I shall keep in memory, I assure you. We again looked at Lahnstein, and the ruins of St. John's Church, built in 1100, and saw a curious ferry, from the mouth of the Lahn over to Stolzenfels. It is made by five or six boats anchored off, and the ferry boat goes over, wafted by the tide. We then came upon Bopart, an old place, but strongly fortified, and having three or four thousand inhabitants. A gentleman on board, who had been there, said it was quite an interesting place. Nearly opposite we were delighted with the ruined towers of the Brothers, as Sternberg and Liebenstein are called. They occupy the two summits of a rock, every inch of whose sides is sacred to vines. The story of the brothers who lived here you are acquainted with. Our next point of interest was the ruin of Thurnberg, or the Mouse; while not far above is another, called the Cat. The view here grows more sublime, and the river grows narrower; and we had a fine prospect of Rheinfels and the town of St. Goar. Rheinfels grows up from the river's edge, and is, indeed, the rock of the Rhine. The fortifications were immense, and this is the most wonderful ruin on the river. A confederacy of German and Rhenish cities broke up this fortress at the close of the thirteenth century, and long afterwards it was made a modern defence. Here the river seems pent up, almost; and just above St. Goar there rises from the water a lofty precipice, called the Lurley Rock. Nearly opposite, a man lives, who, when the boat passes, fires a pistol, and a very singular echo follows, as we can testify. Not far above are seven rocks, seen at low water, called the Seven Sisters. The legend says that they were hard-hearted girls,—the Ladies Schonberg,—who trifled with the affections of nice young men, and so got their deserts by being turned into stones. Still, at the right, we came to Oberwesel, and we all thought it among the sweetest spots of the river. Salmon are caught in nets here, from the rocks. A bend in the river shows us Schonberg, a fine ruin. This was the family spot whence the Marshal Schomberg, of the Boyne, originated. Just over the river is the noble Gutenfels. It was spared by the French, and occupied till 1807, but is now roofless. Caub, on the left, is the place where Marshal Blucher crossed the river with his army, January 1, 1814. In the centre of the river is a castle called Pfalz, built about 1320, which was used as a toll-house by the Duke of Nassau. I think it has been used as a state prison. On our right lies Bacharach, with its many towers, and the fine old ruins of Stahleck Castle. Off this place is a large rock, the Altar of Bacchus; and when the rock is exposed, it is thought to be the pledge of a good vintage. The region is celebrated for its wines; and the grapes of the slaty rocks have a highly musky perfume. A gentleman told me that Bacharach resembles Jerusalem in its aspect. Of course, it must be in miniature that the resemblance exists. Here we noticed St. Werner's Church, a most superb ruin of the florid Gothic. Those lancet-arched windows are the admiration of all who pass by. Lorchausen is a small place, and just away from it are the ruins of the Castle of Nollingen. On the other side, or right bank, are the ruins of the old Keep Tower of FÜrstenberg, destroyed in 1689. Here we enter on the region where the best Rhenish wine is produced. The Rheingau, or valley of the river, is divided into upper and lower departments; and from about Lorch, on the left bank, up to Biberich, are the choicest vineyards. On our right lay the ruins of Heimberg, and the restored Castle of Sonneck. Then comes old Falkenberg, and near to it is the splendid Gothic Church of St. Clement. All these fortresses were the abodes of wholesale highwaymen, and then might made right. Most of them became such nuisances that, at the close of the thirteenth century, they were hurled down, and their places made desolate. Here, too, is Rheinstein, on the very bank of the river. Its early owner was hanged by the Emperor Rudolph. One of the Prussian princes has fitted up the fortress in magnificent style; and I learn that there is no palace in Europe that can boast of such mediÆval splendor. Every thing that can serve to illustrate the dark ages is carefully collected for this charming spot, which seems a rival to Stolzenfels.

Just across, on the opposite bank, is Assmanshausen, famous for hot baths and red wine. Here you see terrace upon terrace, up to the summits of the hills; and some of these, the guide books say, are one thousand or twelve hundred feet. You will often see fifteen or twenty of these terraces supported by brick and stone fences, and the terrace is often not more than six feet wide; and the soil and manure have all to be carried up on the shoulders of the vine-dressers. The value of this region-arises from its aspect, owing to the bend of the river, which gives this left bank, as you ascend, a direct exposure to the sun at midday.

The vintage of the Rhine, I am told, is generally gathered in during October and November, but it is put off as late as possible. Grapes were introduced here by the Romans.

We now came to Ehrenfels, in its venerable decay, the beautiful tower of Rosel, and the ruins of Bromseberg; while on our right are the ruins of Vautsberg, and just beyond we come upon "Bingen of the Rhine," at the mouth of the Nahe; and close by is the celebrated Mausetherm, or Mouse Tower, said to have been built by Hatto, the Archbishop of Mayence, in the tenth century. Southey's fine ballad has immortalized the legend. Never did town present sweeter aspect than Bingen, at the foot of a pyramidical hill, which is crowned by the ruined Castle of Klopp. In a church here lies Bartholomew of Holshausen, who prophesied the fatality of the Stuarts and Charles II.'s restoration, warning him not to restore Popery. Bingen has, I think, some five or six thousand inhabitants, and has a great trade in wine, which is collected here from all the vineyards around. Rudesheim lies on the other bank, and its famous wine comes from grapes growing close to Ehrenfels. Next comes Geisenheim, also famous for wine, and soon comes the renowned village and vineyard of Johannisberg, or Mountain of St. John. Here the river is wide again,—perhaps two thousand fire hundred feet,—and we begin to see fine meadows. This is where Prince Metternich has his seat, where once was a priory, and various have been its vicissitudes. In 1816, it was given to Metternich by the Emperor of Austria. The mountain contains only seventy-five acres, and the choicest wine comes only from vines growing near the castle, on the crown of the bill. The wine of the village is very inferior to that of this estate. The place has but few inhabitants—say five or eight hundred. The house is white, and not very castle-like. The grape is called the Riesslingen.

Here we found several islands. Erbach and Hattenheim are both famous for vineyards, and between them grows the famous MarcobrÜnner; and the Steinberg vineyard, a fortune to the Duke of Nassau, lies upon a slope of the hill close to the convent, of Eberbach or Erbach. This convent was founded in 1131, but is now a lunatic asylum. The churches here are very fine. Opposite the shore lies Rhine Island, and forms a noble park. Walluff, with few inhabitants, is regarded as the commencement of the Rheingau, or wine district, along which we had coasted. Biberich, on the duchy of Nassau, now comes upon our view; and the noble chÂteau of the duke presents one of the finest mansions on the river. Here some of our passengers left for Frankfort, and took the rail; but we wished to see Mayence, and so went in the boat. The city looks finely, and its red towers and steeples make quite a show. This city belongs to the Duke of Hesse Darmstadt, and is garrisoned by Austrians and Prussians, in equal force, generally eight or ten thousand. Exclusive of these, the population is nearly forty thousand. We walked about, and looked at the fine Cathedral, which was sadly shut up by houses and shanties. It was too late to enter it. You may be sure, Charley, that we found out the monument to John Guttemberg, the inventor of movable types. It is of bronze, and was designed by Thorwaldsen, and stands in front of the Theatre, once a university. After perambulating the town till weary, we came to the bridge of boats, sixteen hundred and sixty-six feet long, and which connects Mayence with Cassel, a strongly fortified place, where the railroad depot is located. At this bridge are several boat mills, or tide mills, where grain is ground by the tidal action. They look strangely, but work well. On the bridge we met many Austrian officers in rich uniforms, most of them young, and, I thought, very aristocratical in their bearing. Our dinner on board the boat was as profuse as the day before; and I must not forget to tell you that we had an English lordling, son of a former premier, on board, with his lady, on their matrimonial tour. He was the worst-mannered young man that I have seen in Europe; and when he had ogled the company sufficiently with his glass, and manifested his contempt pretty plainly, he and his betook themselves to the interior of his carriage. He was quite young, and may grow better behaved. We took the ears at dark, and after riding twenty-two miles found ourselves at Frankfort, having passed through Hochheim, where the vineyards are so costly that the railroad company had to pay well for the passage-way. Here we put up at the Hotel Angleterre. Forgive this long letter; but I could not well shorten it, and I want you to know just what we saw.

Always yours,

james.