The same afternoon, we left Augsburg for Ulm.  Long, low ranges of hills, running from the Danube, stretched far across the country, and between them lay many rich, green valleys.  We passed, occasionally, large villages, perhaps as old as the times of the crusaders, and looking quite pastoral and romantic from the outside; but we were always glad when we had gone through them and into the clean country again.  The afternoon of the second day we came in sight of the fertile plain of the Danube; far, far to the right lay the field of Blenheim, where Marlborough and the Prince Eugene conquered the united French and Bavarian forces and decided the war of the Spanish succession.

We determined to reach Ulm the same evening, although a heavy storm was raging along the distant hills of Wurtemberg.  The dark mass of the mighty Cathedral rose in the distance through the twilight, a perfect mountain in comparison with the little houses clustered around its base.  We reached New Ulm, finally, and passed over the heavy wooden bridge into Wurtemberg, unchallenged for passport or baggage.  I thought I could feel a difference in the atmosphere when I reached the other side—­it breathed of the freer spirit that ruled through the land.  The Danube is here a little muddy stream, hardly as large as my native Brandywine, and a traveler who sees it at Ulm for the first time would most probably be disappointed.  It is not until below Vienna, where it receives the Drave and Save, that it becomes a river of more than ordinary magnitude.

We entered Ulm, as I have already said.  It was after nine o’clock, nearly dark, and beginning to rain; we had walked thirty-three miles, and being of course tired, we entered the first inn we saw.  But, to our consternation, it was impossible to get a place—­the fair had just commenced, and the inn was full to the roof.  We must needs hunt another, and then another, and yet another, with like fate at each.  It grew quite dark, the rain increased, and we were unacquainted with the city.  I grew desperate, and at last, when we had stopped at the eighth inn in vain, I told the people we must have lodgings, for it was impossible we should walk around in the rain all night.  Some of the guests interfering in our favor, the hostess finally sent a servant with us to the first hotel in the city.  I told him on the way we were Americans, strangers in Ulm, and not accustomed to sleeping in the streets.  “Well,” said he, “I will go before, and recommend you to the landlord of the Golden Wheel.”  I knew not what magic he used, but in half an hour our weary limbs were stretched in delightful repose and we thanked Heaven more gratefully than ever before, for the blessing of a good bed.

Next morning we ran about through the booths of the fair, and gazed up from all sides at the vast Cathedral.  The style is the simplest and grandest Gothic; but the tower, which, to harmonize, with the body of the church, should be 520 feet high, was left unfinished at the height of 234 feet.  I could not enough admire the grandeur of proportion in the great building.  It seemed singular that the little race of animals who swarmed around its base, should have the power to conceive or execute such a gigantic work.