ROADS, VILLAGES, ETC.

115

Captain is a good

as Gibbet says in the play, travelling name, for it stops a great many foolish enquiries that are generally made about gentlemen who travel, and it gives a man an air of something, and makes the drivers obedient; so that thus far I am a captain, and no further."

On leaving the city the postilion sounded a French horn that was hung over his shoulder. We passed along an alley planted on each side with poplars; and having proceeded about three miles, came within view of a lake. The road, which workmen were then employed in macadamizing, was good, and formed a striking contrast to the sandy tract we had travelled across on the other side of the city. The country, too, was pleasant, but rather woody; and we passed several villages, the spires of whose churches formed prominent objects in the landscape. The farm-houses resembled those we had seen on the route from Hamburgh, and many of them had ovens for baking bread, situate at some distance from them. The ploughs we saw, were drawn by three oxen, and were of exceedingly rude construction. The crops were principally rye and potatoes; the flocks of geese numerous; and in a wood we passed through, were several wild deer. Stones of a very large size were still to be seen scattered over many of the fields, and had the appearance of having been cast up from the crater of a volcano; some of them might, at a little

116 FREIENwalde.

CHATEAU AND GARDENS.

distance, be actually mistaken for sheep, both from their colour and form. The road afterwards struck through a wood of pine and then of beech, where the trees, planted on each side, were fenced by large stones to protect them from the wheels of carriages. There were recesses in several parts of the road, with seats cut out for the accommodation of the weary pedestrian. This, and the many other woods we had travelled through, repeatedly brought to mind the beautiful remark of the poet, that —

"There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is a society where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar.
I love not man the less, but nature more
From these our interviews; in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,

To mingle with the universe, and feel

What I can ne'er express, yet can not all conceal."

prospect

On leaving this wood, the country became hilly, and shortly afterwards a most beautiful of an extensive landscape burst upon the eye. At Freienwalde is a royal château on the side of the road, with gardens adjoining, which is visited by His Majesty twice a-year. There are baths about three miles from the town. The rose trees here, in front of many of the houses, were twenty-five feet in height, and had a profusion of beautiful flowers. We shortly after passed a large mea

ZECHDER. THE ODER.

117

dow, where we observed the mode of piling hay to preserve it during the time of inundation: this is done by erecting a platform six feet in height, laid on upright stakes of wood, in the centre of which is a high pole, the hay being raised to within thirteen feet at top of it. These platforms may amount, perhaps, to a thousand; they have a very singular appearance, and resemble, at a distance, so many bee-hives. The country, in this direction, is extremely picturesque, owing to the windings of the river. Zechder, where we next changed horses, is situated on an elevation having a beautiful view of the windings of the Oder beneath it, and of the vessels that are constantly passing and repassing, whose white swelling sails form a beautiful contrast to the foliage through which they are seen gliding. On resuming our journey we crossed a naked country, until, on descending a valley, the scene suddenly changed, and we had a view of Lake Mantel, whose sides were richly adorned with dark woods. We passed a village near its banks, totally obscured by trees, with two venerable churches and ivy-mantled towers. This is a most romantic situation; and it was heightened by the tranquillity of the evening, the smoke ascending from the cottages, the peasants returning from the labours of the field, and by occasional glimpses of the lake through the trees, while the whole scene was gilded by the

setting of a glorious sun reflected on the bosom of the glassy waters.

This is the poet's, this the painter's hour,
The tranquil hour of beauty and of peace,
When scenes of visioned bliss arrest the eye,
And clouds themselves, like creatures of the air,
And pleasure's heralds, don their glorious suits.
For now the sinking monarch of the skies
Bathes him in streams of radiance: floating gold,
With purple veined in many a sportive shape,
Pavilion round his throne; while the glad earth,
Spectator of his glory, hails her lord,
Exulting in the lustre of his face.
Man, too, rejoicing in the view divine,
His bosom feels with softened rapture filled,
And reads the prophecy of future bliss
Inscribed in the skies.

The road ran upon a line of this sheet of water; and after leaving it, entered a wood, where it became as bad as that we had travelled between Hamburgh and Berlin.

At eight o'clock we reached Königsberg; and after stopping here for the night, we resumed our journey the next morning at an early hour. The road itself was sandy, but otherwise pleasing, venerable lime and oak trees being planted on each side of it. The gardens in the villages, which were cultivated with hops, were fenced with high strong boards. All the

houses had remarkable high roofs of thatch. After passing a sheet of water called Lake Tua, the road pursues its course for a long way between large lime trees, forming a noble avenue. The scenery around was beautiful, the grounds highly cultivated, bearing all the marks of good husbandry and fertility, and there was some of the richest clover we had seen.

At the end of the lake is the small town of Behn.

Three more hours' journey brought us to Pyritz, a place consisting of one principal street, and having about 4,000 inhabitants; it is walled round, and has ancient towers, and a moat, now nearly choked up. About two years ago, a dreadful confiragration occurred, when fifty houses and magazines fell a sacrifice to the devouring element. The dress of the lower orders of females here is singularly clumsy and grotesque, being a jacket of blue cloth, with a row of a great many buttons in front; and coarse drugget petticoats, plaited and bunched out at the hips, like those of the Flemish and Dutch women. This costume, which has as little of taste to recommend it as can well be imagined, is certainly not rendered more attractive by the extreme shortness of the lower garments; and as these ladies wear neither shoes nor stockings, the very liberal display of their persons does not prepossess a stranger greatly in favour of their de