At eight o'clock in the morning I left Altona, and proceeded by
railway to Kiel.
I noticed with pleasure that on this railway even the third-class
carriages were securely covered in, and furnished with glass
windows. In fact, they only differed from those of the first and
second class in being painted a different colour, and having the
seats uncushioned.
The whole distance of seventy miles was passed in three hours; a
rapid journey, but agreeable merely by its rapidity, for the whole
neighbourhood presents only widely-extended plains, turf-bogs and
moorlands, sandy places and heaths, interspersed with a little
meadow or arable land. From the nature of the soil, the water in
the ditches and fields looked black as ink.
Near Binneburg we notice a few stunted plantations of trees. From
Eisholm a branch-line leads to Gluckstadt, and another from
Neumunster, a large place with important cloth-factories, to
Rendsburg.
From here there is nothing to be seen but a convent, in which many
Dukes of Holstein lie buried, and several unimportant lakes; for
instance, those of Bernsholm, Einfeld, and Schulhof. The little
river Eider would have passed unnoticed by me, had not some of my
fellow-passengers made a great feature of it. In the finest
countries I have found the natives far less enthusiastic about what
was really grand and beautiful, than they were here in praise of
what was neither the one nor the other. My neighbour, a very
agreeable lady, was untiring in laudation of her beautiful native
land. In her eyes the crippled wood was a splendid park, the waste
moorland an inexhaustible field for contemplation, and every trifle
a matter of real importance. In my heart I wished her joy of her
fervid imagination; but unfortunately my colder nature would not
catch the infection.
Towards Kiel the plain becomes a region of low hills. Kiel itself
is prettily situated on the Baltic, which, viewed from thence, has
the appearance of a lake of middling size. The harbour is said to
be good; but there were not many ships there. {13} Among these was
the steamer destined to carry me to Copenhagen. Little did I
anticipate the good reason I should have to remember this vessel.
Thanks to the affectionate forethought of my cousin Schmidt, I found
one of his relations, Herr Brauer, waiting for me at the railway. I
was immediately introduced to his family, and passed the few hours
of my stay very agreeably in their company.
Evening approached, and with it the hour of embarkation. My kind
friends the Brauers accompanied me to the steamer, and I took a
grateful leave of them.
I soon discovered the steamer Christian VIII., of 180-horse power,
to be a vessel dirtier and more uncomfortable than any with which I
had become acquainted in my maritime excursions. Scrubbing and
sweeping seemed things unknown here.
