The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1889-10-30

as it is between the mountains where the
impetuous Maize rushes down, with great
noise and pretensiOn for so small a stream,
into the Rhine. Quaint, sleepy, of forgot
ten age, it rests there as a sweet picture of
poetic past. Bingen is at the foot OF the RO-
chus mountain, upon which are the ruins
of the ancient fortified castle Klopp, in
which Henry ~ was imprisoned. Upon
the summit of the mountain is the Roman
chapel OF Rochus Opposite Bingen, across
the Rhine, rises a grand mountain, upon
the top of which, and circling away many
miles to the right, is the Neiderwald low
fOrest.) From the temple here, it is said,
can be had the finest view of the whole
Rheingan. At tho further edge of the
mountain, comm nd ng a noble view,
stands the colosS. statue of Germania,
commemorative OF the late Franco-Prus-
sian war, while the side OF the mountain
which descends toward the Rhine, and
forever smiles upon Bingen with joyous
plenty, is one of the most famous vine
yards IN all Germany, its purple glory
making the little village below, Rudesheim,
famous the world over for its wine.
On arrival at the fortified city of May
ence, in due order, l visited the famous
pontoon bridge across the Rhine; the
splendid railway bridge, with its mighty
fortified castles for defense at either APP
preach the great castle of the city; the
bishops palace the Gutenberg-Platz, and
the noted monument to dear old Guten-
berg; the Mayence theater, looking for all
the world, from the interior, like moss
grown gas reservoir; the BieTbich castle,
and the splendid statue of Germany's i'm
mortal poet, Schiller. Then came an in
spection OF the great notifications OF May
ence. These costs 100000 marks. Ten
million came from an imperial treasury,
and 100000 was levied upon the city.
They are of gigantic proportions and COM
pletely surround the city, though in my
judgment they are too near the vital
spot intended to be protected. An
enemy's shot or shell which could
reach any portion OF the stupendOus
works could pass over them, and thus
work great and even absolute ruin to this,
the most important base of military sup
plies in all Europe. Returning to my
hotel, was reminded that had not seen
the one great object of interest in May
ence, the mighty dom. On my way
thither, though it is not quarter of mile
from the station, was SO interested in the
quaint, narrow streets of the city-some
of them not over eight feet in width, but
with handsome shops and Gates within the
dark streets, lighted all day long with gas
or candles-that the cleaning of the even
ing had come down upon the town before
l had reached the dom, or cathedral. The
business part of the city is built all about
the great pile, up against it, into it, under
its roofs. Cropping in and about weird
old courts, 1 finally came upon
stupendous gate, in which was
little iron wicket, half open. Enter
ing this, / stumbled about for time,
finally coming upon a plump maid who
was working away at gigantic pump.
All, no, the Dom was closed, she said.
After o'clock no sacrilegious traveller
could enter. | reckoned differently.
Away over there-it seemed a mile dis
tant-was a thread of light streaming
through the mold, the ruins and the ivy.
Barking my shins and humping my head
much, brought me to it. Peeping through
the lattice l saw an ancient yerger doing
some sort of religious service all to him
self. / knocked at the door. The old
man seemed Mortified at the sacrilege.
Finally he babe me enter. | spoke
eloquently with my hand. 1t was full of
small coin, among which, | remember,
there was some white money.
What magic thing this money has, in
deed!
In a few moments the changing of the
gates, the creaking of the hinges and the
flare of the verger's lighted cresset awoke
the sleepingpigeons within the gables, and
soon down, down, down, and up, up, up.
and then down and up, and winding about,
we came to the heart of the sacred place.
1t was all told me in whispers, most rever-
emily. 1t was all showed to me in stealth
and gloom. The great font with its olden
brasses Jared back at us reproachfully.
The wonderous crucifiX seemed to move
and change restlessly. The tombs in
stone and iron and brass had, somehow,
a horrible movement among them.
The great paintings with their oaken
frames shifted about uneasily. The mas
sive pillars and columns doomed through
the shadows nightly. And away up there.
hight upon hight, the groined arches
lessened and grew, and retreated and dis
closed until one got dizzy with looking.
One point of light only, this from the very
apex of the dome, told of the dying day
without Westminster abbey, st PauPs.
the Cologne cathedral, one and all have
no measure of the solemn grandeur of the
majestic interior of this great pile, begun
so long ago that the time of its beginning
is lost in tradition, and built in such pro-
portions and strength that it will remain
when a thousand other great edifces of
our time are crumbled and forgotten.
EDGAR /. WAKEsfAN.