Here, according to a regulation which prevails in every part of Germany, I was annoyed by being presented with a printed paper, containing several columns, titled as follow:
| Nahme | Your name. |
| Karakter | Profession. |
| Wohnort | Residence. |
| Kommendvon | Where came you from. |
| Gehendnach | Where going to. |
| Auffenthalt | How long you intend to stay. |
All of which I duly answered in writing, except the last interrogatory but one, namely, “where are you going?” under which I peevishly wrote, “to sleep,” consolidated into one word, in large close letters. To an Englishman unaccustomed to such examinations, which after all are little more than formal, although every innkeeper by law is obliged to make such report of every traveller on his arrival, they are very liable to excite an inverted blessing upon the heads of those who trouble him in this manner.
Wesel is an abominable dunghill, very strongly fortified. In the course of my perambulations through the town, the objects which I met with were infinitely more offensive to the sense of smelling than gratifying to that of seeing, and doubly disgusting from the contrast of exquisite cleanliness which the country I had just quitted, exhibited. This part of Westphalia is very flat, barren, sandy, and dreary, presenting little more than thin patches of buckwheat. The roads are very heavy, and with an exception to an oratory in a little grove, and three wooden effigies as large as life, representing the crucifixion, not one enlivening or interesting object presented itself. I mention the following travelling anecdote by way of caution to my reader, should he select this route. At Dinslaken, one of the post towns between Wesel and Dusseldorf, the post-master told me that two horses would not be sufficient in such roads for the carriage, and declared his determination, that unless I took three, I should have none. If I had submitted to this imposition here, I must have done so throughout; I was therefore obliged to compound with this extortioner in office, by paying half of a third horse, which sum went into his pocket, and pursued my route with a couple, who conducted me in very good style to the next post town. In every part of Germany the postmasters are appointed by, and are under the control of the reigning prince of Turn and Saxis, the hereditary director and post-master general of the roads in that part of Europe. My driver stopped to give his horses some wretched hard bread, used by the peasantry in Westphalia, composed of straw and oats, called bonpournikel from the following circumstance. Many years since a Frenchman, travelling in this country, called for bread for himself, and upon this sort being presented, he exclaimed, C’est bon pour Nikel (the name of his horse); upon which the old woman who had brought it in ran about the village in a great pet relating the story.
As I was proceeding by moon-light, a German gentleman who had travelled some way with me was observing, that throughout Westphalia a robbery upon the highway had not been known for many years, and that a traveller was as safe in the night as in the day; and at the moment when he had just finished an animated eulogium upon the invincible honesty of the people, I happened to observe the shadow of a man behind the cabriolet, the head of which was raised, apparently very busy in endeavouring to cut off our trunks, which, upon our jumping out, proved to be the case; the fellow was much alarmed by our appearance, fell upon his knees, and declared that he belonged to Dusseldorf, and poverty had prompted him to quit that city, and try his fortune on the highway. Nothing could exceed the indignation of the German the moment he knew that our prisoner was a Westphalian; had he fortunately announced himself as a native of any other country, I believe he would have rather relieved the fellow’s distress, than pierced his ears, and perhaps his heart, with the bitter reproaches he heaped upon him: however, as the affair furnished me with a hearty laugh, I prevailed upon my companion to forgive the poor wretch, whose face and clothes indicated extreme wretchedness, and permit him to depart in peace; and we proceeded without further interruption to within a short stage of Dusseldorf, where we slept.
The appearance of Dusseldorf at a little distance is very handsome, particularly from the Grand ducal road, as it was styled. Upon my driving up to the principal inn, the maitre d’hotel with great pomp came out, and informed me in bad French that his house was then nearly full; that the grand Dutchess from Paris was expected every day; that his bed-rooms would be wanted for those belonging to the court who could not be accommodated at the palace, and, finally, that he could not receive me. As I immediately guessed his object, I told him that I intended to stay some days at Dusseldorf. “Oh, very well,” said he, archly adding, “you are an Englishman I perceive.” “No, sir, an American.” “Oh,” replied he, “never mind, it is the same thing: walk in, sir, and we will see what we can do for you.” This inn, the only eminent one in town, is spacious and handsome, and the table d’hote excellently supplied with a great variety of dishes, both at dinner and supper, perfectly well dressed. During my stay I was known by no other name than that of Monsieur Anglois, an appellation not very gratifying to me, upon reflecting that I was a sojourner in the territory of a brother-in-law of Napoleon, who, knowing that he is no favourite with the English, dislikes England and every thing that can remind him of it, to such a degree, that an English gentleman and lady, whom I knew, who had been detained prisoners of war in France, but were afterwards liberated, upon their route from Verdun to Holland to embark for their country, were one day overtaken by a gen-d’arme dispatched express from the last post town, to order them to turn out of the high road on which they were travelling, and to take another route which he pointed out, by which they were compelled to make a deviation of seventy miles. In consequence of the French Emperor being expected to pass that road in the course of the day, this messenger had been despatched to overtake and order them out of the way as fast as possible.
CHAPTER XX.
DUSSELDORF DESCRIBED ... ITS INHABITANTS ... THE GRAND DUCAL COURT ... ANECDOTE OF MURAT ... A DOUBLE ENTENDRE ... THE FLYING BRIDGE ... COLOGNE ... A CONTRABAND PEEP ... THE CATHEDRAL ... A COLLECTION OF GODS ... A BON MOT ... PRIESTLY MUMMERY ... ANECDOTE OF AN ARCHBISHOP OF COLOGNE ... ANECDOTE OF REUBENS AND OTHER DISTINGUISHED PERSONS ... PRESENT STATE OF COLOGNE.
Dusseldorf, so called from the little river Dussel that waters its southern side, and Dhorpf which means village, is now the capital of the imperial dutchy of Berg, under the new dynasty of the Bonaparte family: it formerly belonged to the German empire, and afterwards to the elector Palatine, who at one period made it his residence; this city owed the prosperity which it long enjoyed, to the sagacity and liberality of the elector Joseph William, who enlarged it in 1709, by nobly offering its freedom, and an exemption from all taxes for thirty years, to every one who would build a house within its walls, and took every judicious advantage of its local adaptation to trade, and established universal toleration in religion; the benefit of measures so worthy of the Christian and the ruler was speedily felt, and Dusseldorf, from a petty village, soon became a flourishing city, and contained a population of 18,000 inhabitants.
Few towns have suffered more from the calamities of war than this: its streets, squares, and houses, denote its former consequence; it now resembles a mausoleum half in ruins. Early in the year 1795, the army of the Sambre and the Meuse suddenly crossed the Rhine, and summoned the city to surrender, which it refused to do; in consequence of which the French bombarded it, and set fire to one of its most beautiful churches, which was burnt to the ground; and the city palace, which contained many noble apartments, very nearly experienced the same fate; naked walls blackened with smoke, are all that remain of this splendid pile, except that part of it which contained the celebrated gallery of paintings, which were removed to Munich under a Prussian escort. The French at length took the city by assault, the Austrians who were garrisoned within it having previously retired. I was surprised to find that the French had spared the statue erected as a mark of public gratitude, in the centre of the court of the gallery, to the honour of the elector John William, who was its founder. He commenced it in the year 1710; but dying in 1716, the completion of this princely and public-spirited design was totally neglected by his successor Charles Phillip, who employed part of his treasure, and the whole of his taste, in improving the city of Manheim. Charles Theodore, his successor, finished this institution, established an academy of drawing and painting in Dusseldorf, and also erected a public gallery of paintings at Manheim, which were open to every one, and every artist had permission to study and copy them.
The ruins of the palace have a melancholy appearance from the water, on which I made a sketch of the city, when I saw for the first time one of the Rhenish flying bridges, the description of which I shall reserve for a few pages following, as I did not go on board of it. That famous gallery, which attracted men of taste from distant parts of Europe, occupied that part of the palace which stood close to the junction of the Rhine and the Dussel, and was divided into five very large and spacious apartments, one of which was wholly devoted to one picture of Gerard Douw, esteemed inestimable, and one of the finest he ever painted; the subject of it is uncommonly complicated, yet every figure in it is so exquisitely finished, that it will bear the closest inspection. Descriptions of paintings are seldom very interesting; but the subject of this renowned picture deserves to be recorded. It represented a quack-doctor at a fair, upon his stage covered with a Turkey carpet, set out with vials and gallipots, a shaving bason, an umbrella, and a monkey: the doctor, in the most whimsical dress, is haranguing with uncommon humour and cunning in his countenance, the motley crowd below; amongst whom, a gardener wheeling a barrow filled with vegetables, a countryman with a hare hanging over his shoulders, a woman with a child at the breast, baking little cakes for the fair; another woman listening with ardent credulity, whilst a sharper is picking her pocket, are penciled in a wonderful manner. Douw has represented himself looking out of the window of a public house, and drawing the several objects. The second chamber contained the productions of the Italian school; a third those of the Flemish: a fourth was dedicated to Vanderwerff; and the fifth to Rubens.