e were
delighted with the ruined towers of the Brothers, as Sternberg and
Liebenstein are called. They occupy the two summits of a rock, every
inch of whose sides is sacred to vines. The story of the brothers who
lived here you are acquainted with. Our next point of interest was the
ruin of Thurnberg, or the Mouse; while not far above is another, called
the Cat. The view here grows more sublime, and the river grows narrower;
and we had a fine prospect of Rheinfels and the town of St. Goar.
Rheinfels grows up from the river's edge, and is, indeed, _the_ rock of
the Rhine. The fortifications were immense, and this is the most
wonderful ruin on the river. A confederacy of German and Rhenish cities
broke up this fortress at the close of the thirteenth century, and long
afterwards it was made a modern defence. Here the river seems pent up,
almost; and just above St. Goar there rises from the water a lofty
precipice, called the Lurley Rock. Nearly opposite, a man lives, who,
when the boat passes, fires a pistol, and a very singular echo follows,
as we can testify. Not far above are seven rocks, seen at low water,
called the Seven Sisters. The legend says that they were hard-hearted
girls,--the Ladies Schonberg,--who trifled with the affections of nice
young men, and so got their deserts by being turned into stones. Still,
at the right, we came to Oberwesel, and we all thought it among the
sweetest spots of the river. Salmon are caught in nets here, from the
rocks. A bend in the river shows us Schonberg, a fine ruin. This was the
family spot whence the Marshal Schomberg, of the Boyne, originated. Just
over the river is the noble Gutenfels. It was spared by the French, and
occupied till 1807, but is now roofless. Caub, on the left, is the place
where Marshal Blucher crossed the river with his army, January 1, 1814.
In the centre of the river is a castle called Pfalz, built about 1320,
which was used as a toll-house by the Duke of Nassau. I think it has
been used as a state prison. On our right lies Bacharach, with its many
towers, and the fine old ruins of Stahleck Castle. Off this place is a
large rock, the Altar of Bacchus; and when the rock is exposed, it is
thought to be the pledge of a good vintage. The region is celebrated for
its wines; and the grapes of the slaty rocks have a highly musky
perfume. A gentleman told me that Bacharach resembles Jerusalem in its
aspect. Of course, it must be in miniature that the resemblance