“Start at five o’clock.
“Pilnitz.
“Lohmen.
“Uttervalde—walk through the valley to the Bastei, where the carriage must again meet you.
“Leave the Bastei at latest at 3 o’clock; drive to Hochstein and Schandau.
“Leave Schandau the same evening, at latest at 5 o’clock, for the Wasserfall. Order a mule to meet you at the foot of the Kuhstall; walk to the Kuhstall; descend; take the mule to the Kleine and Grosse Winterberg.
“Leave the next morning at nine o’clock for the Prebischthor and Hernitskretschen on a mule; take a boat for Tätchen; stop at the Bad; order a carriage for Arbesau.”
August 27th.
We left Dresden more than an hour later than the time appointed—a disaster, as we were to crowd so much into one day. We took the road on the left of the Elbe, to Pilnitz and Lohmen. The road grew more varied as we advanced, but I looked out in vain for traces of the mountainous region which we were to visit. The landscape was pretty, but tame, and when we reached the little village of Uttervalde, I wondered why it was necessary to leave the carriage; what road could be here that would not admit a dozen waggons abreast if need were? However, in obedience to our instructions, we did alight, and ordering the carriage to meet us at the Bastei, we hired a sort of open sedan, a comfortable arm-chair placed on poles carried by two men, for me; my companions were to walk, and we set out, as it seemed, to look for wonders where none could be.
But immediately on quitting the village the portals of the mountains opened before us, and we plunged into their recesses. It is difficult to describe the peculiarity of this region; it differs so much from every other. Rabenau shared in some degree in its characteristics. Generally, when you see mountains, they seem (as they are) upraised above the plains which are the abodes of men; lifting their mighty heads towards heaven. In Saxony, the impression is as if the tops of the hills were the outer circumference of the globe, strangely fissured and worn away by the action of water. We plunge into depths of the earth; we might fancy some sprite of upper air had forced a passage so to reach the abode of subterranean spirits. The mystic imagination of the Germans has indeed peopled this region with gnome and kobold, who watch over hidden treasure. A thousand romantic legends are associated with scenes whose aspect awakens the fancy. In uncivilized and disturbed times the persecuted and houseless found refuge in these secret recesses from lawless freebooters or religious bigots.