Deep down, within the caverns of the earth,

Reigns Rubezahl, the Gnome;

Here reigned he, long before man had his birth,

Beneath the rocky dome.

Fires glowed around him, and the great hall shone

With fitful glare that from their flames was thrown.
[186]

Diminutive and swart his subject slaves

Grim-visaged stood around,

Collected in all haste from central caves,

Where, delving underground,

Ever these baneful sprites are doomed to toil,

And win from rocky beds their iron spoil.

Met thus within the murky council cave,

The Gnomes and their great King

Agree to stay the course of the pure wave Which now is hastening

From her far mountain source with joyous tide,

To meet her husband Rhine, a fairy bride.

The scheme agreed upon was, by the fire

Enchainèd underground,

To raise within the earth commotion dire;

And thus with rocks surround

The pure stream, which hitherward was flowing

With beauty crowned and with heaven’s light glowing.

So with his flame-sceptre King Rubezahl

Causes the earth to shake;

Back flow the streams, the neighb’ring mountains all

With fear and terror quake;

The lurid fires burst forth with horrid glare,

Defacing earth, defiling the glad air.

Thus were the Eifel mountains upwards thrown

From out the deep abyss;

Thus sought the Evil King to reign alone,

Driving from earth that Bliss

Which rapidly was gliding here to dwell

In the sweet person of the bright Moselle.

Joyously onward, from the Vosges hills speeding,

Dances the fairy stream;

Attendant rivulets her course are feeding,

Whose shining torrents gleam[187]

Forth from the valleys, where they timid hide,

To join their life with hers and swell her tide.

Thus flowed she on, until her course was stayed

By the uplifted hills;—

Grim smiled the Fire-king at the fairy maid

And her attendant rills.

The Gnomes peeped forth from many a cavern hole,

And forged fresh fetters to enchain the soul.

Oh, short-lived triumph! never yet was sin

Allowed to conquer long;

Never was bounteous love thus hemmèd in

By evil spirits strong,

But it would win its way through hearts or stone,

Causing their power to yield before her own.

So wins her way around, with graceful bend,

The fairy stream Moselle;

And the Gnome King, and all his will attend,

Are forced their wrath to quell;

While she and her enleaguèd fairies throw

Over these Eifel hills, thus raised, a glow

Of more than earthly beauty, which exceeds

All else around her course;

Each Fairy gives her gift—the streamlet leads,

Above the hidden force

Of demons toiling in eternal night,

Its silv’ry thread, for ever glad and bright.

The Wood-Nymphs give their shadiest coverts green,

Spread out fresh turf and flowers,

And clothe the banks which the brooks glide between

With everlasting bowers.

Thus were the rocks thrown upward by the Gnome

Made pleasant spots for future man to roam.
[188]

In the most exquisite of these sweet vales

Gushes a healing fount,

A bounteous spring, whose water never fails

To flow from forth the mount.

Love so has banished Hate, and Beauty shines

Above the darksome toil of demon mines.

From Alf to Bad Bertrich an excellent road runs winding through a succession of green valleys, shut closely in by the mountains, which are covered with foliage. The Alf-bach, or brook, runs by the side of the road; its waters turn the wheels employed in the iron-works, which are embosomed in trees near the entrance of these secluded valleys. So, after all, we find the fire-fiend is not extinguished, but by the assistance of his friend Man is, as of old, still defacing nature and enslaving a beautiful stream.

Six English miles of beauty bring us to Bad Bertrich itself. In all probability, the tourist in Germany will here exclaim, “I never heard of Bad Bertrich.” Even so, we reply; and that constitutes one of its greatest charms. While the English, and Russians, and French are all swarming to Baden, to Ems, Schwalbach, Wildbad, and the legion of baths with which all Germany teems, there is left neglected one of the most beautiful places in Europe. There is plenty of shade, and plenty of sun, and plenty of air, and yet “the Bad” is quite sheltered.

The village is very small and clean. There are several small inns, and one good hotel, called Werling’s. [189]This hotel is kept by an unmarried woman, who is one of the oddest, best-hearted old bodies possible. She, however, is not the leading person in the establishment, as everything is left to the waiter, a remarkable character.

This waiter is an exceedingly jolly old fellow, who, as the day advances, becomes more and more deeply in liquor; his eyes close up gradually, and his senses seem to be wandering. Now these symptoms are not unusual to men in his state; but it is most unusual for a man when so overcome to be able to wait on some twenty or thirty guests, to bring what is wanted for each, and to (without any notes) keep account in his head of what wine and food each has partaken. Yet all this he does, and does it right well.

In the winter this hotel is shut up, and our old friend the waiter goes hunting with two apoplectic dogs, that snore on chairs all the summer.

While we were there, his waiting, and drinking, and hunting were nearly all brought to a sudden termination; for one night, while sitting at supper, a tremendous smell of sulphur began to pervade the apartment, and following our noses, we found that it came from a small room to which the old waiter retired between courses to indulge in a sip. By this time the smell was so strong, and on opening the door the air became so dense, that it was all we could do to drag the old fellow out. It then appeared that some visitors had given him a parcel of fire-works to put safely [190]aside, and he had for safety placed them among matches and candle-ends, and somehow the whole had exploded.

Adjoining the inn is the bath-house, and around it a garden and promenade. Close by is a fountain, where the public drink the waters for nothing. The baths cost one shilling each, and are most d............