The Castle Stands On A Rock, Between Twenty And
Thirty Feet High, Which Seems To Rise Out Of The Elbe; It Is
Surrounded By Hot-Houses And Charming Gardens, Shelving Downwards As
Far As The Town, Which Lies In A Blooming Valley, Near A Little
Harbour.
The valley itself, encompassed by a chain of lofty
mountains, seems quite shut out from the rest of the world.
The left bank of the river is here so crowded with masses and walls
of rock, that there is only room at intervals for an isolated farm
or hut. Suddenly the tops of masts appear between the high rocks, a
phenomenon which is soon explained; a large gap in one of the rocky
walls forms a beautiful basin.
And now we come to Schandau, a place consisting only of a few
houses; it is a frontier town of the Saxon dominions. Custom-house
officers, a race of beings ever associated with frontier towns, here
boarded our vessel, and rummaged every thing. My daguerreotype
apparatus, which I had locked up in a small box, was looked upon
with an eye of suspicion; but upon my assertion that it was
exclusively intended for my own use, I and my apparatus were
graciously dismissed.
In our onward journey we frequently observed rocks of peculiar
shapes, which have appropriate names, such as the "Zirkelstein,"
"Lilienstein," &c. The Konigstein is a collection of jagged masses
of rock, on which is built the fortress of the same name, used at
present as a prison for great criminals. At the foot of the rocks
lies the little town of Konigstein. Not far off, on the right bank,
a huge rock, resting on others, bears a striking resemblance to a
human head. The more distant groups of rocks are called those of
"Rathen," but are considered as belonging to Saxon Switzerland. The
"Basteien" (Bastions) of this Switzerland, close by which we now
pass, are most wonderful superpositions of lofty and fantastically
shaped rocks. Unfortunately, the steamer whirled us so rapidly on
our way, that whilst we contemplated one bank, the beauteous scenes
on the opposite side had already glided from our view. In much too
short a time we had passed the town of Pirna, situate at the
commencement of this range of mountains. The very ancient gate of
this town towers far above all the other buildings.
Lastly we see the great castle Sonnenstein, built on a rock, and now
used as an asylum for lunatics.
All the beautiful and picturesque portion of our passage is now
past, and the royal villa of Pillnitz, with its many Chinese gables,
looks insignificant enough, after the grand scenes of nature. A
chain of hills, covered with the country-houses of citizens, adjoins
it; and on the right extends a large plain, at the far end of which
we can dimly descry the Saxon metropolis. But what is that in the
distance? We have hardly time to arrange our luggage, when the
anchor is let go near the fine old Dresden Bridge.
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