_Saturday, 14th, Remagen._--Set off at 8 o’clock. Six hundred Carmagnol prisoners had slept in the town, and quitted it about the time we did. I never beheld more miserable objects; many of them were boys of fifteen and sixteen years old, crying from cold and nakedness, walking upon the hard flints barefooted; others, sick and wounded, were huddled upon each other in small carts. I tried to convey them some money, but the _impitoyable_ Austrian corporal took all for himself. Reached Coblentz to dine; uncommonly well lodged at the Hôtel de Trèves. This place, which was enlivened a year ago by the residence of the Prince and all Versailles, is now tranquil, even to dulness. The situation of the town is pretty, and the fortress of Ebrenstein[113] is finely placed. [Sidenote: A GERMAN ROAD] _15th._--My early exertions seldom succeed: I was up in time to rouse the lark. It was scarcely light when we got into the carriages, but by the laziness of the people at the _pont volant_ we did not leave the city until 9 o’clock. Unfortunately, in quitting the town we took the road to Nassau. I verily believe since the Creation no four-wheeled carriage ever went upon such a road, unless Pluto conveyed his reluctant bride in his infernal car, for it seems to lead to his dominions only. The country is ugly; the want of population, so unlike every other part of Germany, is remarkable. Since I saw the Sussex downs I have seen nothing more disconsolate. Upon a bare hill an immense flock of sheep were feeding; they relieved the eye from the hopeless sterility around. The breed of sheep is remarkably small; they are even less than those in Wales, and it equals the Welsh mutton in flavour. After many hairbreadth escapes we at length re-entered the habitations of men: we descended a very steep hill upon a narrow road, which was very slippery nor had it the protection of a _garde-fou_, till we came to a smart little town, charmingly situated upon the Lahn and surrounded by fantastically shaped hills covered to the summit either with vines, or what in summer must form thick foliage. Just entering Nassau there are ruins of two such picturesque castles! How I longed for a pencil to sketch their mouldering walls ere the rude blast of winter shall destroy their antique forms! Perhaps they may have been the residence of a haughty baron with a proud line of ancestry enough to make Dan Prior say:-- Can Bourbon or Nassau go higher? But, alas! with the heroes he commemorates they are gone by. Their ruined walls scarcely afford a shelter to a wretched goatherd and his shaggy flock. The night of the 15th was spent at Neustadt, and from thence the road lay by Schwalbach to Mayence.