This street should rather be spoken of in the past tense, for the greater part of it was burnt in 1857; three times the town was on fire in this year, a church and about forty houses being consumed in the last and largest conflagration6. As we shall have to revert7 to these fires again, suffice it to say that the part of the old street nearest the mountain was destroyed.
Berncastel contains some four thousand inhabitants; the tourist passing in a steam-boat would hardly believe so many people were housed in so small a space. This remark will apply to most of the towns and villages on the Moselle, for only a few of the better class of houses are visible from the water in general, the mass of buildings being huddled8 out of observation as much as possible, and crowded under the base of the impending9 hills; formerly10 these Burgs were all walled, which accounts for the crushing.
This town dates from the tenth century, and at the end of the thirteenth it was destroyed by a fire, in which the chateau11 of the Bishop12 was burnt, together with many pictures and other valuable objects, to the estimated worth of 70,000 rix thalers; it is now inhabited by many rich people, to whom a great part of the fine vineyards of the vicinity belong: there are also mines of gold, silver, copper13, and lead, which serve to enrich the community.
The vineyards are very extensive, and produce a very good wine; they cover the mountain to a height of some hundreds of feet, and extend for miles down the river. We are shown the estimation in which the [146]Berncasteler wine was formerly held in the following story of
[Contents]
THE BEST DOCTOR.
The lord of the chateau of Berncastel sat with his Chaplain drinking his wine,—not sipping14 it, but pouring down huge bumpers15, as was the custom then.
Seeing his Chaplain did not drink, the Baron16 pressed him to do so, assuring him that the fine Muscatel-Berncasteler would be good for his health.
The Chaplain sighing, refused, saying, “It was not meet that he should be drinking while his Bishop lay sick in the town at their feet.”
“Sayest thou so!” cried the Baron; “I know a doctor will cure him;” and quaffing17 down another mighty18 flagon he set off to the Bishop, carrying a cask of the precious wine upon his own shoulders.
Arrived at the palace, he induced the invalid19 Bishop to consult the doctor he had brought with him: the invalid tasted, and sipped20, then, finding the liquor was good, he took a vast gulp21, and soon a fresh life seemed glowing within him.
“That wine restores me,” quoth the Bishop. “In truth, Sir Baron, thou saidst well; it is the best doctor.”
From that time the Bishop’s health mended, and returning again and again to the great phial—for he was in nowise afraid of its size—he soon was quite cured; and ever after he consulted this doctor when feeling unwell, keeping him always within easy reach.
Since this wonderful cure many patients have [147]imitated the example of the venerable Bishop, and a single barrel of Berncasteler-Muscateler is considered sufficient to cure an ordinary patient. More must, however, be taken by those who require it; and in all cases it has been observed, that the patient so loves his good doctor he never is willing to be separated from him for long. “Come and try the Doctor Wine, O ye who suffer under a vicious system of sour beer!”
The little openings in Berncastel, for we cannot call them squares, are rich in subjects for the painter of old houses; they look as if they had walked out of one of Prout’s pictures, and set themselves up like stage-scenes for the oddly-costumed people to walk and talk between.
Old Houses in Berncastel.
Old Houses in Berncastel.
[148]
A good view is got from the ruined castle over the town; which not in itself very interesting, is yet, on this account, well worth a walk. When there, Cus lies at our feet, with the river rolling between us and it. This Cus (pronounced Koos) was the birthplace of the celebrated22 Cardinal23 Cusanus, who, report says, was a fisherman’s son: this is, to say the least of it, very uncertain; but doubtless he was born in quite a low station of life, and by his abilities raised himself to be Bishop of Brixen in the Tyrol, and a Cardinal.
He died in 1464; his body rests at Rome, and his heart is deposited in the church of the Hospital which he founded at Cus, for the maintenance of thirty-three persons who were to be not less than fifty years of age, and unmarried; or if married, their wives were to go into a convent.
Of these thirty-three, six are ecclesiastics24, six nobles, and twenty-one bourgeois25; they all dine at a common table, and wear a like habit of grey; they are presided over by a Rector, who is to be always a priest of irreproachable26 manners, a mild and good man, and not less than forty years old: all the inmates27 take a vow28 of chastity and obedience29 to the orders of their superiors.
The Inn in Berncastel is a fair sample of the houses of refreshment30 on the Moselle: the landlord dines with his guests; the dinner is good, but ill-served, and is eaten at one o’clock, being followed by supper at eight. Travellers come and go without the people of the house seeming to care whether they [149]stop long time or short; they are charged according to their nation, English paying more than French, and Germans less than either: however, the charges are not at all high, except for private dinners and out-of-the-way things.
The original pie-dish bason is here found in full force, accompanied by small square boards of napkins; the scantiness31, combined with the hardness of which, render them about as useful as a wooden platter would be for the purpose of drying your face,—which, owing to the fortunate construction of the bason, does not, luckily, become very wet.
An agreeable fellow-diner informed us, that on the Moselle two codes of law were in force,—the Prussian on the right bank, and the Code Napoléon on the left: thus, in Berncastel a couple could not be united in marriage without a church ceremony, while in Cus it was optional. Our informant added that the ladies generally insisted on a church marriage, not because they thought the ceremony necessary, but to show off the grand array of their wedding-finery.
A tale is told at Cus of a Ghost who haunts the neighbourhood, and sometimes visits the town; he is called
[Contents]
THE BAD MAURUS.
The departed Maurus, who now figures as a pernicious hobgoblin, was formerly a resident of Cus; a drunkard and scoffer32 at all things holy, this wretch33 filled up the measure of his iniquities34 by [150]beating his wife: so ill did he use her, that the neighbours were constantly obliged to come in and save her from his brutality35.
The thread of his evil life was summarily cut in this manner: one night as he returned, drunk as usual, to his home, fully36 intending to beat his wife if waiting up, and equally bent37 on thrashing her if she had gone to bed, a man in black with a lantern kindly38 offered to show him the way home: he eagerly accepted the offer, and his guide preceded him; so the two went on, the black-hearted man led by the man in black.
In the morning Maurus was found lying dead at the foot of a rock; they raised the body and brought it to his poor wife, who, forgetting all his ill-usage, sorrowed for the death of her husband.
The widow ordered a suitable funeral, and the body was laid in the churchyard, but on coming back from the funeral, Maurus was seen looking from the garret-window, where he had been observing and sneering39 at his own funeral: everybody was horrified40, and Maurus continued to haunt the upper story of his wife’s house until three priests exorcised the hobgoblin, and forced him into the country.
Here the mischievous41 rascal42 amused himself by shouting to the ferrymen, “Fetch over! Fetch over!” They, thinking it the voice of a voyager, willingly crossed; then Maurus jeered43 them, clapping his hands: at last the priests attacked him again, and drove him into the forest. Still, at times the wicked Maurus [151]sneaks into town, and sits on the doorstep of his old house, and his voice is yet heard in the forest, where he wanders for ever.
A charming mountain walk of about four miles leads to Trarbach. Up through the vines we climb, no longer wondering where all the wine comes from; above the vines is a bare crest44 of heath-covered turf, then a steep descent leads into the valley, at the mouth of which Trarbach is placed: but by going this road, beautiful as it is, more interesting scenery is omitted. The distance by river from Berncastel to Trarbach is about fifteen miles, while by land it is only, as we have said, about four, so great are the bendings of the stream; which, however, we shall follow, being by no means tired of her society. It was at Berncastel that the following verses were written, after admiring the lovely effects there produced by the
MORNING MISTS.
I love the river when the sunshine gay
Kisses the waves, which joyful45 seem to play,
Dancing like elves so merrily around,
Rippling46 and gurgling with many a happy sound.
I love the river when the dewdrops fall,
When rocks re-echo to the herdsman’s call,
Who, as the eve spreads darkly o’er the plain,
Returning, leads his cattle back again.
I love the river at that moonlight hour
When all bad spirits lose their evil power;
Calmly and holily she rides on high,
The waves soft murmur47 and the zephyrs48 sigh.
[152]
But most I love thee, O my gentle River!
When at glad morn the mists around thee quiver;
When round and o’er thee the faint-flowing veil
Now falls, now rises with the swelling49 gale50.
As on her wedding morn the blushing bride,
With fleecy veil and white robe seeks to hide
From eager gazers, who in crowds attend,
Her beauty, and the very act doth lend
A greater charm, a new and crowning grace,
To which all other lesser51 charms give place:
Arrayed in veil and robe of pure white, she
Fit emblem52 is of virgin53 modesty54.
O thy great beauty! thy enduring grace!
To which all other scenes and streams give place;
Causing all those who thy sweet waters know,
To praise their God, “from whom all blessings55 flow.”
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收听单词发音
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1
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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conglomeration
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| n.团块，聚集，混合物 | |
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heterogeneous
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| adj.庞杂的；异类的 | |
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jumble
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| vt.使混乱，混杂；n.混乱；杂乱的一堆 | |
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appellation
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| n.名称，称呼 | |
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conflagration
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| n.建筑物或森林大火 | |
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7
revert
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| v.恢复，复归，回到 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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9
impending
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| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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chateau
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| n.城堡，别墅 | |
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bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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sipping
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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bumpers
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| （汽车上的）保险杠，缓冲器( bumper的名词复数 ) | |
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baron
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| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
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17
quaffing
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| v.痛饮( quaff的现在分词 )；畅饮；大口大口将…喝干；一饮而尽 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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sipped
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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gulp
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| vt.吞咽，大口地吸（气）；vi.哽住；n.吞咽 | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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cardinal
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| n.(天主教的)红衣主教；adj.首要的，基本的 | |
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ecclesiastics
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| n.神职者，教会，牧师( ecclesiastic的名词复数 ) | |
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bourgeois
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| adj./n.追求物质享受的(人)；中产阶级分子 | |
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irreproachable
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| adj.不可指责的，无过失的 | |
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inmates
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| n.囚犯( inmate的名词复数 ) | |
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vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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29
obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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30
refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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31
scantiness
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| n.缺乏 | |
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scoffer
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| 嘲笑者 | |
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33
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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34
iniquities
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| n.邪恶( iniquity的名词复数 )；极不公正 | |
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35
brutality
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| n.野蛮的行为，残忍，野蛮 | |
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36
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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sneering
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| 嘲笑的，轻蔑的 | |
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40
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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42
rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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43
jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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45
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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48
zephyrs
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| n.和风，微风( zephyr的名词复数 ) | |
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49
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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50
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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52
emblem
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| n.象征，标志；徽章 | |
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virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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54
modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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blessings
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| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
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