A light breakfast may be allowed in half an hour or an hour after the last tumbler of water at the springs. It is fortunate that near this, as near most alterative waters, there is a chalybeate—viz. Schwalbach—where the patient may be very conveniently sent, when no farther progress is likely to be made at Ems; or where a tonic is necessary after the debilitating effects of the latter have taken place. Those who cannot visit Ems may take the bottled waters at a distance, with very little loss of virtue. They will keep for several months. They are used with considerable benefit en lavement. Of the douches or local application of the waters to the ailing region, I need not speak.
The regimen, while taking these and other waters, is of some consequence. Coffee or chocolate half an hour after the last glass, with bread but no butter, is the rule of the day at Ems. Tea is prohibited, as too much favouring perspiration—a rather unnecessary precaution I imagine. A liquid preparation of rice (called content) with some spice, is recommended to those of very nervous temperaments for breakfast. Between breakfast and dinner, some light avocation, conversation, or reading—after which a promenade. Temperance is essentially necessary at these waters, as they generally excite the appetite. The dinner hour of one o’clock at the table-d’hôtes is a great bore to all who are not downright ill—and these had better dine at home. The siesta is condemned in strong terms by Thilenius, if there be any fulness about the head, or if the individual be plethoric; but to the weakly this indulgence is allowed. The early dinner draws after it, as a necessary consequence, some supper—so that, upon the whole, the four o’clock dinner, without supper, will be found the most convenient and salutary.
Of the gambling-tables I shall take another opportunity to speak: mean time the following remark of Thilenius will not be inappropriate here.
“He who cannot gamble without losing his temper, should avoid the hazard-tables.” This is easy morality! The physical effects of passion and all the horrible emotions of mind at roulette, are merely considered as hurtful to the body of the bather; but no idea appears to be entertained that these are detrimental to the soul as well as to the body. The fact is, however, that none but gamblers by profession, and not all of them, can win or lose money without passion, although they may contrive not to shew it strongly in their countenances. In every point of view, therefore, moral and physical, these hells on earth ought to be shunned as eagerly as those of the nether regions.
I may now make a few cautionary remarks on the dangers of bathing and drinking the waters of Ems, and indeed of mineral waters (thermal) in general—a subject little touched upon by writers at the spas themselves. I cannot too often or too strongly warn every one against warm baths, who has the slightest degree of local chronic inflammation going on in any of the organs of the body, as evinced by white tongue, dryness of skin, accelerated pulse, evening thirst, or scanty action of the kidneys. The exciting mineral waters, taken internally or externally, will be almost certain to raise the chronic into a subacute, or even acute, inflammation, with a corresponding grade of constitutional irritation. Of this I have seen many instances, both at home and abroad. The existence of such conditions should be carefully ascertained before the spa is introduced: and proper means taken to remove all traces of inflammation. But even where there is no proof of any inflammatory action, the state of plethora or general fulness of the vessels renders warm bathing hazardous. In all, or almost all organic diseases of internal parts, especially of the heart, brain, or lungs, the warm bath is to be eschewed. The tide of the circulation carried to the surface by the hot bath, must have a subsequent recoil, and then the weakened organ may suffer. Besides, the warm and, still more, the hot bath excites the heart and great vessels into increased activity for the time, and the blood is carried with greater force towards the brain, endangering congestion there. But what are the admonitory symptoms or phenomena by which the patient may judge, when danger is approaching? The spa doctor is not always at hand, in these emergencies. He is often too much employed at such times. When giddiness, sleepiness, chilliness, confusion of thought, weariness, head-ache, pains in the limbs, unusual sounds in the ears, sparks before the eyes, loss of appetite, oppression after food, feverishness, thirst, languor, depression of spirits, inability to sleep at the usual hour, malaise or, in fact, any uncomfortable feeling, not previously felt, occurs soon after drinking the waters, and especially after bathing, and if these, or any of these recur after the second or third day, let the waters be suspended till advice is taken. I am well aware that the spa-doctors will say—“oh these are critical, or even favourable symptoms, demonstrating the efficiency of the spring.” All I say is—Beware! you are standing on a precipice!
We must now take leave of Ems. It is a very hot place in warm weather, and I must say that the exterior and interior of the houses are not in the most perfect accordance. The fogs are frequent in the mornings, and the heat oppressive in the middle of the day. Few people can sleep without some of the windows being kept open, and the danger of catching colds is not inconsiderable. The reputation of the waters is very extended. The Empress of Russia and her daughter were swallowing them freely while we were there (1840), and seemed to require them or some other restoratives, as they exhibited any thing but hyperborean complexions. Several physicians have recommended a residence at this spa during the Winter; and I am inclined to think that it would not be a bad sejour for people with tracheal affections, or irritable conditions of the mucous membrane of the lungs.
FRANKFORT.
This celebrated city has changed its nature, but not its name—the latter being now more appropriate than ever. It is a free-fort, that is, it is free from fort or citadel—rampart or fosse—glacis or sallyport—cannon or mortar—shot or shells! All these have been converted into much better things—gardens, shrubberies, and promenades. Frankfort, I apprehend, has more of nominal freedom than real liberty. The protection of the German potentates is stronger, no doubt, than her ancient walls; but she is as much under the surveillance and control of these “high mightinesses,” as ever she was under that of her military commandants, when a first rate fortress. Be that as it may, Frankfort is now a great emporium or re-union of commerce and carriages—of Jews and of Gentiles—of bankers and of brokers—of lenders and of venders—of consuls and of caléches—of voitures and of retours—of envoyés and employés—in fine, it is a large “normal school” for studying the first lines of diplomacy, trickery, traffic, and stock-jobbery.
The old and the new portions of the city present a curious contrast—youth and beauty united to age and ugliness!