CHAPTER XXI.
JOURNEY TO BELGIUM; VISIT TO GHENT; JOURNAL OF HER TRAVELS; LETTER FROM THE RHINE FALLS; HOMEWARD JOURNEY; ARRIVAL AT CALAIS.
In 1835, Mrs. Opie again visited the Continent. As on former occasions, she kept a daily Journal, which is written in very fine characters and in pencil. Her route was directed through Bruges and Ghent to Brussels, where she was to join her friend Madame M., with whom she purposed making a trip up the Rhine.
The earlier part of this Journal, giving an account of her visit to the various charitable institutions in the city of Ghent, Mrs. Opie published in Tait’s Magazine for 1840. From Ghent, she proceeded to Brussels; and at this point of her journey we invite the reader to accompany us, as we follow her steps; occasionally making an extract from her note book. Her friend not having arrived, Mrs. Opie, awaiting her coming, established herself at the Hôtel de France; she says:—
(First day, 2nd of 8th mo.) I have not been out, and perhaps shall not stir; yesterday I read a good deal of dear Mackintosh’s life. How rare is truth! All relative to me, except M.’s strictures and opinion of my Memoir of my husband, is erroneous. W. Ashburner, called my cousin!—the “Forget-me-not,” which I wrote years after W. A. died, and I was a wife, said to be addressed to him! That song was written to no one. It is a most interesting memoir, and Sir J.’s praises and just appreciation of my husband delight me, his praise of me is welcome also; but I shed tears while I read, for past joys, and for those who live no more! How have I wept over what I could not but turn to, an account of the dear man’s death. Yes! it is, I am sure it is, satisfactory. He was no daring sceptic, but a seeker to the last, and fully do I believe he found and was accepted in the Redeemer! And he was kind to every one;—oh! so truly kind. He loved to give pleasure certainly, and those who do this, have something at least, that was in Christ Jesus.
Who that reads these last touching words can fail to apply them to the dear, loving, and beloved writer? alas! now those who loved her must weep, because she, too, lives no more.
Madame M. having arrived, they went by the chemin de fer, (which they did not find so swift a passage as they expected,) to Anvers, and next day, (the 8th) proceeded to visit the citadel, and walked over every part of it, and also saw the Scheldt and its banks, Flemish and Dutch; thence to Nôtre Dame to see the pictures by Rubens.
Words cannot express (she says) my feelings at sight of the Descent from the Cross, in the light which it was painted for probably. What grand conception! What motion in all the figures! The scene, the subject, the sense of surpassing genius, and the living effect of everything, quite overcame me, even unto tears.
On Sunday, after a “sitting,” in her own room alone, she went with her friend to see several churches, and at one of them the concierge, on their approaching the altar,
* * * made a dreadful noise, with something in his hand, to forbid it, and as we did not immediately leave the church he cried “allez!” and when we came to the door, which he held in his hand, his look at me was fierce and appalling, and in Flemish (as I suppose) he said something which seemed to me trembleurs; il avait l’air si menaçant que, si javois tardé de quitter la porte, je crois qu’il m’auroit donné un coup quelconque, ses lêvres etoient pâles, comme la mort!
From Antwerp the travellers returned to Brussels, whence they started on the 12th, for Namur, going “unconsciously by the road, not over the plain of Waterloo—a disappointment, but we saw distinctly the mound and the white lion on it, which mark the spot.” From Namur, they proceeded to Huy and Liège, and on the 13th, visited Chaude Fontaine, with which Mrs. Opie was rather disappointed, and “one thought of dear Scotland” dimmed the beauty of this pretty vale in her eyes. Of the cathedral at Liège, she says, “the roof curious, the whole a grandly simple edifice, sculpture in wood excellent; pictures good for little.”
On the 16th they were at Spa, of which she writes:—
This is a lovely spot indeed; to me, how does it bring back my earliest recollections! Poor Amisant used to give me bons bons and toys from Spa, and tell me stories of it! dined at the table d’hôte; forty persons present—good company. Next day went to see a famous cascade; the drive thither through a deeply wooded ravine, was beautiful; the cascade itself trumpery. We came back by Malmedy, a pretty town in Prussia, picturesque in buildings and lovely in situation. On the 20th we were to have seen a curious grotto, but could not get horses on account of the odious races. Well! money saved, and fatigue avoided; a hundred persons dined at the table d’hôte.
They left Spa for Aix la Chapelle, on the 21st, and though disappointed in the country around, were surprised at the width of streets and beauty of the buildings in Aix. Of the cathedral at Aix, Mrs. Opie writes, “outside, in parts, it is beautiful, light, and imposing; and the Hôtel de Ville, old and grand, (when entire,) as a palace. The fountain opposite to it, with a statue of Charlemagne, in complete armour, with the crown on the head, is curious and interesting, but the passages for the water are small, and have a bad effect.” On the 23rd, her Journal proceeds:—
Rose depressed, Sunday no sabbath for me! This is an odious place. I enjoyed my quiet sitting at home, and was with my dear and endeared brethren and sisters at N. meeting in spirit; in the afternoon drove to Louisberg, an exquisite drive and beautiful walks, commanding the forest des Ardennes, (no doubt that of the Duke, Rosalind, &c.,) a splendid view; saw, too, the ever-boiling fountain at the village called Bouille; I hope it was not a profanation of the sabbath to go to these places. (24th.) All noise, bustle, and carriages, come in for the races. No one seems to think of anything but les courses. We have bitten all nations now, with this vicious folly! We went to see the Trésor at the cathedral; the relics encased in gold; was glad to see them, but the priest was evidently disappointed at not seeing any marks of homage and reverence about me, for what I saw! Afterwards went to see the church; but was led away from attention to things of man’s creation, by the sight and hearing of a man, in a blouse, who was kneeling before the altar, and in a loud voice doing penance, his arms extended in the form of a cross; so he remained at least half an hour, and from the gallery above I watched him; as he went out, he passed us, pale and feeble from his exertions. M. M. says she has seen such a sight in Ireland, and that when he paused, there were persons answering him from behind the confessional. (25th.) Went to the cathedral, to see, and sit in, Charlemagne’s chair. The man there again, doing as before: the sacristan said it was no penance, it was a voluntary action; and he had an idea of getting by that means to paradise, and that he came every day and staid near an hour! This sight interests me much, be it how it may. After dinner went to shew myself, and be described at the passport office. Alas! could not get places in the diligence for Cologne, till sixth day. Two more days in this sink of dissipation! Really I turn from the scenes of gambling, vice, and evil around me, with a feeling of comfort, to the poor, mistaken, but pious man, and penitent conscious sinner, in the cathedral!
On the 28th the travellers proceeded to Cologne, and next day the Journal proceeds:—
My window looked on the river, and I rose at half-past four to gaze at the Rhine; the sun was breaking behind a church, with fine towers, and the water reflected objects. No one seemed waking but myself. It was a still, sublime, and solemn moment. At seven we came on board the steamer, where I now write; the Rhine, broad and rapid, spreading around me. The banks are tame, and fog hides the hills, but the voyage is truly pleasant, and we are on the Rhine!
Landing at Bonn, they proceeded to Godesberg, lying at the foot of the Drachenfels, which they ascended on asses, on the 1st of September; she says:—
It was an exquisite day, and exquisite was the ascent. I enjoyed it, in spite of the disagreeable way of going. We were so high, that the many, and I may say, tall, vineyards, which we had passed on our way, looked only like a carpet beneath us. The lights on the mountains and on the river were very fine, and Rolandseck and Roland tower were the finest features in the scene. On the 2nd we were towed across to the island of Nonningwerth, where was the nunnery, a fine establishment for nuns indeed, and one for noble ladies. It would have delighted me to have passed some time there, making excursions on the Rhine from thence.
I had forgotten to mention our most interesting visit to Kreuzberg, a high hill, rising near Bonn. There we saw the buried monks, in a vault near the church; their bodies in a wonderful state of preservation; the lids of the coffins are decayed, and there they lie by each other’s side, some with the nails, toes, and fingers, still fleshed, and so are parts of the knees and legs. I do not remember to have seen any features perfect. It was a curious sight, but did not affect me as I expected it would have done. One thing strikes me on recollection, which I did not think about at the moment, viz: the great length of the limbs. We stay here a day to rest. The students are very picturesque in their appearance, but they have not long hair, at least, we have seen none. Oleanders are everywhere here, like meaner flowers elsewhere, and so fine; one of the students whom I saw, wore a straw hat, with bunches of oleander stuck in it; this, with the naked throat, looked so effeminate! I write this in a chair in the garden. Two days of rain chilled the air, but then it laid the dust. There is always in the physical, as well as in the moral world, some good coming out of evil! (4th.) Took the steam-boat for Coblentz, my heart full of thankfulness; after a glorious voyage we arrived, when it was quite dark. Our chambers looked on the Rhine, and the moon shone on it, and the lights of the city on the opposite shore (for we were at Ehrenbreitstein, whose grand fortress towered behind us) added to the beauty of the scene. I was loth to go to bed.
After two days’ stay at Coblentz they proceeded by the Rhine to Bingen, and on the 7th ascended the Rüdesheim mountain, from the summit of which they had “a glorious view indeed of the mighty river, into which the river Nahe was seen sending its pale brown waters, contrasting with the soft pale green of its superior neighbour. Eleven green islands in the Rhine were visible from this high point.” Thence their way led to Mayence; they stopped at one place to change horses, when Mrs. Opie says: “I strolled down to the Rhine, where were peasants gaily dressed, en bateau, singing and chorussing their national air, and then raising a cry like that of our harvestmen, only sweeter.” Next day they saw Mayence, and proceeded on to the Duke of Nassau’s palace, which she calls “exquisitely handsome;” thence to Wiesbaden. On the 14th they were at Frankfort, and went to church twice, being “charmed with the preacher, Bonnet;” and after two days exploring in this city, they proceeded on the 16th to Heidelberg, where, the Journal continues,—
We arrived late, after an exquisite drive; the castle grows on one, the more one looks at it; its vastness is surprising, and the beauty of its site, and trees, and gardens, and terraces, is striking; but the Neckar, though pretty, is not large enough for such an edifice, it should have been the Rhine. One view, up the river, is the most advantageous to the castle. * * * The great tun is not worth seeing by English persons, who know there are such things as brewers’ tuns so much larger! Came home delighted with all our sights. On the 19th to Manheim, a lovely drive, the Rhine in all its beauty. We stopped at Schwetzingen, to see the beautiful gardens; at M. we saw the grand Duke’s handsome palace, 400 rooms in it; we did not see all, certainly. (20th, Sabbath day.) Alas! at home till after dinner. (21st.) At Carlsruhe. (23rd.) Set off at eight for Baden, the approach to it is beautiful! that evening I drest and walked to the post, and found a letter telling me of the death of E. B.; oh! her poor mother. We then walked to Chabert’s, and sat under the portico, and ate ice; and saw, but scarcely entered, the grand room, where, all day, men and women are playing rouge et noir. English most of them! (22nd.) Walked after dinner to see a waterfall, the walk was exquisite along the edge of what is, and in what was, the Black Forest. High indeed were the mountains and rocks on either side, and on one towered the black pines of the far-famed forest; the path was steep but gradual, along a narrow murmuring torrent, which in a wet season must have been very fine. After a mile’s walk, at least, we reached the wooden bridge and the cascade, which was well worth coming to see, and we did indeed enjoy our walk. (29th.) To church; it was nearly full of English; a good sermon by an English gentleman. After service walked in the burying-ground; the place was full of crosses, fancies, and flowers, and of some pretty memorials. After dinner at the table d’hôte, went to my room. (28th.) Went to see the chateaux; the first, that of the Duchess Stephanie; nothing remarkable externally, but there, beneath, were the chambers of the secret tribunal! Alas! our guide was a youth who could only speak German; however, he knew what we wanted to see, and taking a lantern himself and giving us a candle, he led us from the bright rooms and daylight into utter darkness! we saw the oubliette, the room of judgment, and the tribunal, or rather, place of it; the massy stone doors; the dark airless cells; and what Mrs. Trollope has so well described. We then drove to the ruins on the rock, a painfully steep ascent for the horses, but they did it well! It is an exquisite ruin, and from its top we beheld the valley of the Rhine, lying shining and winding beneath, and to the east a mass of beautiful mountains.
On the 30th the travellers left Baden, in company with friends, (and friends and acquaintances they met at every turn,) and on the 1st of October reached Friburg; with the interior of the cathedral they were much struck, and its “windows, all of painted glass, such as I never saw before;” the Journal proceeds;—
From thence we set off for Boldbach, en route to the Falls, and soon turning into a valley, went up, on foot, a very steep, narrow, rocky defile, the river rolling and talking beneath, the rocks and mountains so high, that in the carriage it was difficult to see to the top, the vale was so narrow! It was sublimely grand to look back, and so repeatedly did the road wind, that it seemed we were blocked in by rocks! this was the Black Forest, and the famous gorge d’enfer. The next thing, worthy of equal admiration, was the Black Forest itself, through which we passed, and the latter part of it we had the moon to light us through. Before we reached the forest, we saw the Alps, and, for some time, some nearer and plainer than others. Oh! it was glorious!
(3rd of 10th mo.) Rose at five, but not off till past seven; and I was going to the Falls of the Rhine! At length I heard them roar, and saw them smoke! and as soon as the voiture stopped at the inn, I ran off to the Falls.
TO THOMAS BRIGHTWELL.
Hotel of the Rhine Falls,
10th mo., 3rd, 1835.
I think, my dear friend, thou wilt not be sorry to hear a little of my goings on. * * Thou didst not come as far as this spot, and my journey has been extended much beyond my original plan; but I am so delighted with the Rhine, that I could not resist the temptation and opportunity—one which cannot occur again—of seeing it in its wondrous beauty here. Three times have I visited the Falls to-day, and, if the moon rises bright, I am to visit them again. We came yesterday from Friburg, and to that place we went from Baden Baden—a beautiful spot, but there is no water except in the environs, and I admire no place where water is not. Friburg Cathedral is most beautiful; they say Strasburg is finer—nous verrons. From F. our route lay through a very steep mountainous country, and through the Black Forest, that haunt of banditti in former times, and the scene of so many tales and romances. It is sublime in its dark-browed beauty still, and a fine moon added to the solemn calm of the scene. But the Alps! long before we saw the Forest the snow mountains were in sight—and also long before we were in Switzerland, Swiss cottages, Swiss chalets, and Swiss costumes, met our eyes at every turn. We went, just after we left Friburg, up a steep rocky defile, and up mountains, and through forests, to the top of which our eyes could scarcely reach, and in which the exquisite beauty of foliage and colouring went de pair with sublimity—and from the top of these passes the snow mountains first met my eager gaze. This morning we set off at six precisely; we are at present travelling in a returned carriage—which holds us and our luggage, and we find such modes of conveyance the cheapest and best. It was half-past twelve when we reached this hotel: chemin faisant I heard the roar of the Falls, and saw them smoke, and while my friend staid to eat her breakfast, I (who had had coffee before starting) could not delay my visit to this long-desired scene, and I hurried down a steep path to it, which, if under less powerful influences, I should have cautiously trodden—but I arrived safe at a railing near the fall, and was awhile satisfied! but I soon changed my place, and walked till I came in front of the mighty torrent. Oh! those busy restless waters—no one can fancy what they are! they must be seen to be conceived of! Some persons are disappointed when they see them, and, in one respect, so should I have been, had not prints prepared me for what I was to expect. I am used to see and admire cascades that fall from a height, over one narrow rock, and then over another—and perhaps over another still; but this is, I may say, like Niagara, a table or flat fall. It is a wide river, coming to an edge or wall of rocks, and leaping over them—then gracefully rolling on, like liquified aqua marine—that beautiful green stone of such exquisite tint and clearness. The chute itself is like the purest snow; but, ever and anon, as the sun shone on it, some of the tumbling masses, falling over the rocks below the great fall, were like liquid sapphires and of the palest purest blue. Still the Rhine here is, as a river, unlike its usual self, of the full green blue, like the precious stone named above. In its best dress, where the boats go, thou mayst remember, it is of that undefinable light, pale-blueish green, the colour of Dresden china. When it flows smoothly on at this place, it turns up a narrow channel, and glides along through richly wooded rocks, and is seen no more! Oh! it is a glorious river! and had it no banks, I should love it for itself alone! There is something awful in the constant roar and eternal motion of these waters! The sea is sometimes calm, and its roar becomes a gentle murmuring, but these rolling waterfalls seem to know no change, but fall and roar for ever, exempt from the common doom of created things, which is to alter and to end. There is an inhabited castle on a rock beside the Rhine-falls; I should like to know whether its inhabitants have, of necessity, acquired the habit of speaking so loud as to break the drum of the ears of their acquaintances!
We go on improving in our enjoyments. I mean, the natural beauties we see, go on increasing in sublimity and charm; and so they had need, to console me for my trying absence from my religious duties and opportunities, and my religious friends—my sabbath days—ah! there is the trial. But I dare not repine, I have put myself in the situation, and I often say to myself, like the man in the play, “tu l’as voulu, George, tu l’as voulu!” but I never contemplated so long a tour. We did mean to go back by Holland, but have given that up. * * I am very, very, home sick; however, if permitted to return in health and safety, I shall do so with a deeply thankful heart, and I can also add, with a heart still more attached to the friends I have so long deserted. We have associated occasionally with some pleasant men and women, and have occasionally travelled with them, but I have not desired to form acquaintances. We have mounted the Niederwald, and we visited the Brunnens. We liked Heidelberg much; we were there five days. Chaude Fontaine we liked; but Spa, Weisbaden, and Aix la Chapelle, I hated; they are sinks of dissipation, gambling, and vice, and even English ladies game there, at the public table and the public rooms, at all hours; and nowhere, and by none, is the first day of the week kept holy. True, the English as well as the Germans, go to church, after the Lutherans and Catholics are come out of it; but cela suffit.
We occasionally see an English newspaper, or rather, Galignani’s Messenger, and are amused at O’Connell’s progress, but alarmed at Spanish affairs. * * Farewell, till I return from my walks, or find I cannot go. I hear the waters roaring most invitingly. * * Just returned—the moon shewed herself de temps en temps, but not enough; however, I dare say she is now gilding the waters well; but I had no right, I thought, to keep my poor guide out of his bed for my pleasure, so I came away, having seen her rays sparkling on one side of the river, but I doubt whether her beams would ever reach the fall so as to convert it into diamonds; thus I console myself. Farewell, with love to your circle; let my aunt, E. Alderson, know of this letter from her vagrant, and as yet far distant, niece. I thought of you all in the Bible week, and wished myself with you. I shall write to my dear friends, the Sparshalls and Willetts, and my beloved friends at Earlham and the Grove. I hope J. Fletcher and wife are well, &c.
Thy truly attached friend,
A. Opie.
From the Falls the journey was continued to Zurich, (“a noble lake, the banks all studded with country houses and gardens,”) and Lucerne. Her Journal continues:—
Arrived by twilight (on the 5th) at beautiful Lucerne! The Righi was before us, unveiled almost all the way, and now we found him on the banks of the lake, as it seemed; on either side were snow mountains, in rows, one behind another, filling up the lake in one place, so as to make it seem impassible by boat. The moon was rising—the sun setting—a neck of green land covered with flowers, was shooting into the lake, near where I was, and the whole scenery was lovely beyond description. Our inn was eight stories high! my room five, but then it commanded the lake and its beauties, and I was never tired of looking out of my window. From the balcony I saw the moon rolling its flood of light into the bosom of the lake, the Righi in deep shadow, the snow hills of a ghostly white, and the rays just catching on some of their sharp peaks. (6th.) Mont Pilate, which rises just behind our hotel, is the most beautifully outlined and grandest mountain I have yet seen. We rowed on the lake to where the rocks and hills formed a complete cross; four cantons at the end of the four arms, Uri, Friburg, Unterwald, and Lucerne; the wooded rocks come down straight into the lake, and the effect is fine, but there is no walk on the banks, as at Zurich. Dined at the table d’hôte, dinner excellent; in short this hotel both in rooms, situation, attendance, and fare, is perfect. In the morning we went to see the famous lion, sculptured in a rock near, from a model by Thorwaldsen; the model is exquisite. We went then to the fair, and were amused with the different costumes. In the twilight we walked along the lake, and through the cloisters of the church of the Jesuits, and lingered on the shore as long as we could. (7th.) Saw the sun rise at six, behind the Righi, from my window, and fill the lake below with crimson light; oh! it was glorious; but so fleeting! It was beautiful to see the mists rolling off the mountains. We were very sorry to come away.
The next two days rain and mist prevailed, and the mountains were closed in; no Jungfrau visible! At Berne, at the table d’hôte, Mrs. Opie found herself placed beside a marquise, whom she supposed from her accent must be English; “she said she was born English, but was the widow of a French peer, the Marquis Lally Tollendal!” At length, on the 10th, the sun shone; it was Sunday, and after attending church, the travellers walked on the ramparts, and saw a “piece of the Jungfrau, and one or two snow hills, but no more.” On the 11th, weary of waiting, they proceeded to Thun; but were still pursued by rain and mist. However, at Interlachen, a gleam of sunshine lighted up the prospect, and they saw the distant Alps “in beautiful and glorious succession—a scene never to be forgotten.” On the 14th, Mrs. Opie was greatly distressed at reading the announcement of Mrs. J. J. Gurney’s death, in Galignani. Of this painful event she writes:—
A most afflicting and unexpected event! the death of my beloved young friend, Mary, the wife of my dearest and best friend, J. J. Gurney. I had learnt to love her dearly; by constant and never-failing experience I knew the generosity of her heart, and the openness of her hand in giving! Her will to do good, was even greater than her power! To her husband she was the heightener of his joys, the soother of his trials, the sharer, and I may say assistant, of his literary labours; to his children she was a most affectionate, kind, and judicious mother; to me she was ever a kind, attentive friend, and I looked forward to her as one of the comforts of my old age! but she is gone before me, and has left a blank which cannot be filled up. Alas! how many are mourning with me for her loss! but it is my misery to deplore her alone in a foreign land! deplore—I mean for the sake of others; for she, I can have no doubt, is gone to glory! to that Redeemer through whom alone she hoped for acceptance, and for the joys of the world to come!
Mrs. Opie ceased to make any entry in her Journal for many days after this. She proceeded to Basle and Friburg, and thence to Strasburg and Manheim, where she found letters that cheered and relieved her.
Here she enters in her note book:—
So thankful to be here! To-morrow I hope to be on the Rhine, and my face turned towards home. May I not be disappointed! I hope fearfully, and I trust humbly.
On the 22nd they were at Mayence; thence they went on board the boat. She says:—
We went down into the handsome cabin, but were most civilly requested to leave it, as it was engaged for the Princess of Saxony. We went on board again, and I soon forgot even my sorrow, in the lovely scenery around. On the deck I had a flattering rencontre with the Princess, who, attracted by my singular dress, opened a conversation with me. At last she asked my name; and when I said Amelia Opie, “Madame Opie,” she exclaimed, “quoi! auteur célèbre!” and then she was kinder still, had one of her own stools brought for me, and made me sit beside her.
At Cologne she took her leave of the Rhine:—
I rose (she says) in the night to look at the river, &c., and for the last time gazed on its beauty, from the spot where I first saw it. How much had I undergone of trial, in many ways, since I saw it last! I felt humbled, but resigned and contented, and, I trust, taught.
On the 27th they reached Brussels, and the next day, Ghent. On the 1st November the two friends parted at Lisle, and Mrs. Opie, travelling all night, reached Calais, where she closes her Journal with the following words:—
So ends my Journal of my journey; would it were a better record of better things! But I am returned; good things more endeared to me than ever; and when I saw Calais to-day, and remembered what I was when I first saw it, in 1802, I felt overwhelmed and humbled with a sense of being richer, wiser, and happier, in one sense, than I was then; for I had learned to know my Saviour, and not as a teacher and a prophet only, but as the Redeemer, as He who died that I might live, and through whose merits alone I am to be saved. Glory be to the most High for this greatest of all His mercies!
A. O., 2nd of 11th mo., 1835.