On the plain at the foot of the hill of Godesberg and at the distance of an eighth of a mile from the river, a shelving cornfield intervening, stand three large hotels and a ridotto, all striking edifices.  To the south of these is situated a large wood.  These hotels are always full of company in the summer and autumn:  they come here to drink the mineral waters, a species of Seltzer, the spring of which is about a quarter of a mile distant from the hotels.  The hotel at which we put up bears the name of Die schoene Aussicht (la Belle Vue) and well does it deserve the name; for it commands a fine view of the reaches of the river, north and south.  Directly on the opposite bank, abruptly rising, is the superb and magnificent chain of mountains called the Sieben Gebirge or Seven Mountains.  On the summit of these mountains tower the remains of Gothic castles or keeps, still majestic, tho’ in ruins, and frowning on the plains below; they bring to one’s recollection the legends and chronicles of the Middle Ages.  They bear terrible awe-inspiring names such as Drachenfels, Loewenberg; the highest of them is called Drachenfels or the Rock of Dragons and on it stood the Burg or Chateau of a Feudal Count or Raubgraf, who was the terror of the surrounding country, and has given rise to a very interesting romance called The Knights of the Seven Mountains.  This feudal tyrant used to commit all sorts of depredations and descend into the plains below, in order to intercept the convoys of merchandize passing between Aix-la-Chapelle and Frankfort.  It was to check these abuses and oppressions that was instituted the famous Secret Tribunal Das heimliche Gericht, the various Governments in Germany being then too weak to protect their subjects or to punish these depredations.  This secret tribunal, from the summary punishments it inflicted, the mysterious obscurity in which it was enveloped, and the impossibility of escaping from its pursuit, became the terror of all Germany.  They had agents and combinations everywhere, and exercised such a system of espionage as to give to their proceedings an appearance of supernatural agency.  A simple accusation was sufficient for them to act upon, provided the accuser solemnly swore to the truth of it without reserve, and consented to undergo the same punishment as the accused was subjected to, in case the accusation should be false; till this solemnity was gone through, no pursuit was instituted against the offender.  There was scarcely ever an instance of a false accusation, for it was well known that no power could screen the delator from the exemplary punishment that awaited him; and there were no means of escaping from the omniscience and omnipotence of the secret tribunal.