The city lay about four miles distant from us.
The whole country about Hamburgh is level, except the right bank below it
of the noble river on which it stands, the Elbe. The house where I was
domiciled stood on nearly the highest point of this bank, which gradually
sloped down into a swampy hollow, nearly level with the river. It then
rose again gently until the swell was crowned with the beautiful town of
Altona, and immediately beyond appeared the ramparts and tall spires of
the noble city itself.
The morning had been thick and foggy, but as the sun rose, the white mist
that had floated over the whole country, gradually concentrated and
settled down into the hollow between us and Hamburgh, covering it with an
impervious veil, which even extended into the city itself, filling the
lower part of it with a dense white bank of fog, which rose so high that
the spires alone, with one or two of the most lofty buildings, appeared a
bove the rolling sea of white fleece--like vapour, as if it had been a
model of the stronghold, in place of the reality, packed in white wool, so
distinct did it appear, diminished as it was in the distance. On the
tallest spire of the place, which was now sparkling in the early sunbeams,
the French flag, the pestilent tricolor, that waved sluggishly in the
faint morning breeze.
It attracted my attention, and I pointed it out to my patron. Presently
it was hauled down, and a series of signals was made at the yard--arm of a
spar, that had been slung across it.
Pages:
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52