Sailing down the river, past the grim fortifications on both sides, we pass between two islands, and soon reach the pretty little town of Biebrich, where, in A.D. 840, Louis the Pious, son and successor of Charlemagne, died.
The river at this point begins to assume a bolder and more picturesque appearance than it did near Mayence, and as we approach Eltville we get the first glimpse of a ruined castle, built in 1330, by Baldwin, Archbishop of Treves, who was then Governor of Mayence. It stands high up the bank, and is almost hidden from view by the trees that surround it. Just beyond, back of a low-lying island, is the town of Erbach, near which are some old abbey’s ruins.
“BINGEN ON THE RHINE.”
From here the river is dotted with little islands whose irregular shape and diversified surface adds a new charm to the scene; while over on the right bank, in a commanding position, surrounded by fruitful vineyards, is the celebrated Schloss Johannisberg, built in 1716 on the site of an old Benedictine monastery founded in 1106. Around this old castle, which is in good repair, are the vineyards from which come the famous Johannisberger wines, the favorite of all Rhine wines. From this point all along the river to the “Siebengeberger” or “Seven Mountains,” the vineyards that clothe the banks of the river are famous for their exquisite wines.
A few minutes further on and on the same bank Rüdesheim comes into sight, flanked by the massive Brömserburg, a massive castle, with ivy-grown walls, that towers high above the little town below it. This is another famous wine-producing district, its fame having been handed down from as far back as the twelfth century. The castle, a three-storied rectangular building, was erected in the twelfth century, and has but recently been restored.
With a graceful sweep that reveals new beauties every minute, we came in sight of Bingen, “fair Bingen on the Rhine,” just where the River Nahe empties into the noble stream. High above it, on a thickly wooded eminence, on the site of an ancient Roman fortress, is the Castle Klopp, with its frowning battlements and forbidding towers.
No one can see what there is about Bingen to make it famous. It never would have been famous but for the Hon. Mrs. Norton, an English poetess, who found the name to be properly accented, and of the right number of syllables for use in a poem, which she wrote. It will be known so long as the platform is infested with readers and there are school exhibitions.
“A soldier of the legion lay dying in Algiers,
There was lack of woman’s nursing, there was dearth of woman’s tears.”
That’s the way it commences, and the burden to each stanza is:—
“For I was born in Bingen—fair Bingen on the Rhine.”