The Rhine in Flames

As many regular readers of Rick On Theater know, I lived in Germany with my family for a number of years as a teenager.  (See my post “An American Teen In Germany,” 9 and 12 March 2013.  I was also stationed in West Berlin ten years later when I was in the army.)  From 1962 to 1965, my dad, who was a Foreign Service Officer, was assigned to Koblenz, a small city in Land Rheinland-Pfalz (the state of Rhineland-Palatinate).  It had just reached 100,000 inhabitants the month my dad arrived in town.

(Back in that time, my family and I took to using many German words, names, and expressions among ourselves.  As a student at an international school in Switzerland, my schoolmates, both those who took their classes in French and those who studied in English, and I had our own lingua franca, Franglais—or franglais, as the French kids would have it.  Most people know that that’s a sort of pastiche of French and English and we spoke it among ourselves all the time.

(Well, my folks and I and other Anglophones we knew in Koblenz, including some Canadians, Brits, and other Amis, did the same thing with German, a kind of Denglisch, you might say.  So in our house, a chest was a Schrank, a common soft drink was Limonade (not lemonade, but a lemon-lime soda like 7 Up) and a fruit juice we liked was Johannesbeerensaft, even when we were speaking English.  The same went for things like the name of the state in which we were living, the Rhineland-Palatinate, which we routinely called the Rheinland-Pfalz; the Elector’s palace was the Schloss, Ehrenbreitstein was the Festung, not the fortress, the Mosel River was always the Mosel and not Moselle, and so on.

(For a topic like this one that transports me back to those years, I fall back into that habit, and rather than force myself to struggle against an old habit, I’m going to be indulging myself—and I hope you can go with it.  I’ll translate or explain those German words and terms at least once when I first use them.)

Koblenz is right on the Rhine River, the second-longest river in Central and Western Europe (after the Danube), about 60 miles north of Mainz, the largest city in the Rheinland-Pfalz and the state’s capital, and 53 miles south of Bonn, the former capital of the Bundesrepublik (Federal Republic [of Germany]) when it was known colloquially as West Germany (1949 to 1990).  Europe’s tenth-longest river, of its 760-mile length, the Rhine’s longest stretch (432 miles) flows within Germany (it starts in Switzerland and ends in Holland), rolling past mountains and cliffs (like the legendary Lorelei, about 23½ miles south of Koblenz), towns and cities, fortresses and castles—nearly 50, some restored, some partially restored, and some just ruins; one, Pfalz-bei-Kaub, sits on an island in the stream itself (28 miles south of Koblenz)—and vineyards, vineyards, vineyards. 

Koblenz is located at the point where the Mosel River flows into the Rhine, forming the Deutsches Eck (German corner) like a giant street corner (about a mile upstream from our house).  Thus the city, now at over 114,000 inhabitants and the third largest in the Rheinland-Pfalz (after Mainz and Ludwigshafen), lies between the two most important wine-producing river valleys in Germany.

Our government-supplied house was on the Rheinanlagen (now renamed the Kaiserin-Augusta-Anlagen for the first Empress of Germany, the wife of Kaiser Wilhelm I), a promenade along the river which runs downstream a little over two miles from the Deutsches Eck; no motorized vehicles except service trucks and three-wheelers are permitted on the walkway.  Our large living room windows at Rheinanlagen 12 looked out with an unobstructed view at the river essentially across the “street.”

Even when we had nothing else to do, sitting and watching the activity along the Rhine was endlessly engrossing.  Small boats of all kinds plied the waterway along with ferries crossing to and from the towns on the other bank; barges and tugs moved coal, automobiles, or other freight up and down the river. 

It was startling when we first realized that families lived on those barges, with little huts rising from the decks and evidence of family life, such as cooking smoke rising from the little chimney, a small car parked next to the tiny home, and laundry hanging out to dry alongside, visible as the boats sailed by.  Sometimes children played on the flat deck of the barge and not infrequently, there was a dog barking. 

There were also lots of cruise ships sailing from Mainz or points south—Mannheim or Basel—down to Rotterdam and back.  Koblenz was an overnight stop on the river cruises and the piers were located just downstream from our house so we could often see the tourists embarking or disembarking.  One of the hotels where the cruise passengers stopped, a few hundred yards down from our house, had the wonderfully evocative name of the Kleiner Riesen—the Little Giant. 

Koblenz is an old town, dating back to Roman times when it was called Confluentes, for the confluence of the Rhine and the Mosel.  In 1992, the city celebrated its 2000th anniversary.  Though Mainz is the state capital (and Trier, 62 miles northeast, had been the Roman regional capital), Koblenz is the site of the Schloss (palace) of the Kurfürst (Prince-Elector) of Trier, one of the 23 electors of the Holy Roman Emperor from the 13th century until the HRE was abolished in 1806. 

That Kurfürst is a connection to one of the biggest annual public celebrations in Koblenz and the surrounding area in the Middle Rhine Valley: Der Rhein in Flammen—known in English as The Rhine in Flames—an immense pyrotechnical event.  The first Rhine in Flames fireworks display took place in Koblenz in 1756 in honor of Johann IX Philipp von Waldendorf (1701-68), the Archbishop-Elector of Trier from 1756 to 1768.  According to historical records, Elector Johann Philipp, who was staying at Festung Ehrenbreitstein (the Schloss wasn’t built until 1778), towering on a cliff overlooking the river from its eastern bank, was partial to firework shows, so a pyrotechnical display burst over the castle. 

The backstory for the Rhine in Flames goes back to the final years before the common era when the Roman invaders were conquering what became the northern frontiers of the Roman Empire.  The Roman legions were barricaded behind border fortifications called lῑmitēs, constructed to protect the Romans from the “uncivilized” and “wild” Germans.  (Think of Hadrian’s Wall in Britain; it served the same purpose.) 

To get to the enemy, the indigenous German defenders had to find a way to distract the Romans, so they sent burning ships down the Rhine and confused the Roman troops.  While the Romans were in disarray, the Germans broke through the walls.  

(Sounds a little bit like the Wall in Game of Thrones that guarded the Kingdom of the North [Germania] and the rest of Westeros [Roman Empire] from the wildings and the White Walkers [Germani].  Then the Wall [Roman lῑmes] was breached and the White Walkers poured through the gap.)

The tactic of the German tribal warriors became the model for the modern celebration of the Rhine in Flames.  To honor Elector Johann Philipp after his appointment and to mark his visit to Koblenz, rockets were fired from aboard three boats positioned in the middle of the river opposite the Deutsches Eck.  Pyrotechnics were also set off from a large wooden frame set up on the Ehrenbreitstein embankment as the Elector’s boat lay anchored below the Festung.

On Thursday, 14, and Friday, 15 August 1845, Queen Victoria (1819-1901; reined from 1837) and Prince Albert (1819-61; Prince-Consort from 1840) of England visited Koblenz as part of their official trip through Germany.  (Readers may remember that Prince Albert was German, from the royal family of Saxe-Coberg and Gotha, within what is now the German state of Bavaria some 215 miles east of Koblenz.  Part of the voyage was to pay a private family visit to Albert’s home duchy, which was also Victoria’s mother’s birthplace, at the end of August and early September.  Albert celebrated his 26th birthday in Coberg on 26 August.)

The royal couple, accompanied by the King and Queen of Prussia, Friedrich Wilhelm IV (1795-1861; reined from 1840) and Elisabeth Ludovika of Bavaria (1801-73); the King of Belgium, Léopold I (1790-1865; Léopold was an uncle of both Queen Victoria and Prince Albert); and the Crown Prince of Prussia, Wilhelm Friedrich Ludwig (1797-1888; the king’s brother and regent from 1958 who would become Wilhelm I, the first Emperor of Germany; reined as King of Prussia from 1861 and Kaiser from 1871), were honored with firework displays in Bonn and Cologne before they continued on their Rheinreise (Rhine journey) by steamer to Schloss Stolzenfels near Koblenz, where they were to stay.  (The palace, rebuilt from a ruined 13th-century castle in 1842, belonged to King Friedrich Wilhelm.)

The story has it that Victoria was enjoying the beautiful Rhine scenery so much that she insisted on staying aboard the royal yacht, HMY [Her Majesty’s Yacht] Victoria and Albert, for the day.  In the afternoon, she was welcomed to Koblenz with gun salvos from Festung Ehrenbreitstein.  After disembarking at Stolzenfels, the royal couple were treated to another spectacular pyrotechnical show.

The tradition was continued irregularly until the 1930s; it was halted during World War II, then revived.  Today, the firework show that’s the culmination of the festival still takes place over Ehrenbreitstein.  Every year since 1956, the Rhine Valley has been gloriously lit up by red Bengal flares and fireworks.  (Bengal flares, formerly used as signals but now classified as fireworks, create a bright light, normally for some time.  They’re ground-based and create an intense flame, as opposed to a shower of sparks like a fountain.  The red aerial flame effect, reflected by the river, is what gives spectators the impression that the Rhine itself is aflame.)

The Rhine in Flames festival is held annually in Koblenz on the second Saturday in August.  There are several similar events on other dates in other towns along the river, but Koblenz’s celebration is the biggest.  Today, the Procession to Koblenz (Strecke Spay-Koblenz) starts a little over 10 miles south of Koblenz in the Bopparder Hamm, or loop in the river between the towns of Boppard and Spay.  The convoy of ships sails down river at 9:30 in the evening, beginning with a firework display over the town of Spay.  There are displays all along the route at several small Rhine towns, some at castles along the river, until the boats reach the Deutsches Eck in Koblenz at 11 p.m. when the pièce de résistance occurs, the great pyrotechnical show over Ehrenbreitstein.  (Tickets for this kind of cruise, including a meal on board, are something over €100/$110 per person.)

On the first Saturday in May, the Rhine in Flames celebration, called The Night of Bengal Fire (Die Nacht der Bengalfeuer), is held in Bonn; in July, in the Rüdesheim-Bingen area, is the Night of Fire Magic (Die Nacht Des Feuerzaubers); in early September, at Oberwesel, The Night of a Thousand Fires (Die Nacht der Tausend Feuer) takes place; in mid-September, from Burg Katz (Castle “Cat”; there’s also neighboring Burg Maus!) near Sankt Goarshausen, Burg Rheinfels near Sankt Goar, and from the middle of the Rhine between the twin towns on either side of the river, is the Night of the Lorelei (Die Nacht der Lorelei – named for the storied rock outcropping nearby that’s the subject of many songs, poems, tales, and legends).

In 2019, the 3-day Koblenzer Sommerfest took place from Friday, 9, to Sunday, 11 August and in 2020, it will run from Friday, 7, through Sunday, 9 August.  The fare on Friday and Sunday and the daylight hours of Saturday are typical of summer festivals the world over—concessions, souvenir and craft tents and booths, amusements, food, wine, and beer purveyors, and so on.  The Ehrenbreitstein Seilbahn (cable car) runs continuously between the Deutsches Eck and the fortress ruin atop the cliff across the Rhine.

The celebration is arrayed along the banks of the Rhine and the Mosel and around the Deutsches Eck.  (There’s no entrance fee for the festival, though visitors have to pay for anything they buy at the concessions, of course.  I don’t know if the usual fare for the Seilbahn, €11/ca. $12, is waived, however.)  An eclectic music festival, the FestungsMusikFest, is underway on the grounds of Ehrenbreitstein during the Sommerfest, with more than 300 artists playing various styles of music on nine stages.  The Rhine in Flames event, the festival highlight, takes place on Saturday night.

In 1956, there were 30 ships and about 150,000 visitors at the celebration.  These days, between 60 and 80 ships travel the illuminated 10½-mile route from Spay/Braubach to Koblenz every year.  Since 2012, the Rhine in Flames in Koblenz has been a three-day program.  In 2018, up to 76 ships provided 22,000 passengers or so with wonderful views of the Rhine castles, palaces, and riverside promenades (like the Rheinanlagen, on which our house fronted), all washed in the red glow of Bengal lights.  An additional almost 250,000 visitors came to enjoy the festivities.   

 

Back in the early ’60s, when my family and I lived in Koblenz—I was 16 when I first went there to live and 18 when Dad was transferred to the embassy in Bonn—the Rhine in Flames was still a one-day event.  Believe me, that seemed plenty to me at the time.

Our house at Rheinanlagen 12 was ideally situated for the annual fireworks blow-out.  The towns along the river held wine festivals in conjunction with the celebration and on the day of the big event, and all the houses, shops, and restaurants along both sides of the river put candles in the windows that faced the water. 

Before dusk, the cruise ships sailed down the river past the townscapes, the mountains, and the cliffs.  Some of the boats offered entertainment, dinner, and drinks—mostly wine (German, of course—what else!) and probably Sekt (German sparkling wine).  When they all arrived at dusk, the boats, now all illuminated with festive lights, turned around and headed back to Koblenz in the night. 

As they arrived in Koblenz, the boats arrayed themselves along the river from Festung Ehrenbreitstein downstream past our house and held.  An immense fireworks display erupted over the fortress with the ruins silhouetted against the glow.  The show started with the Bengal flares bathing the Festung in red light; when the flares died off, the fireworks started.  The river itself burst into flame as the flares and fireworks were reflected in the water.  I’m not normally a big fan of pyrotechnics, but this was truly magical—the river, the boats, the lights in the towns, the ruins of Ehrenbrietstein.

The whole panorama was clearly visible from the small terrace of our house where we could sit on the warm summer night with a nice glass of wine—I’d love to say it was a Rhine wine, but it was just as likely to have been a Mosel or even some other German white—as the convoy arrived, all lit up itself, and got into position right in the middle of the stream opposite our house for the pyrotechnics.  I have many memories of that time in my life, as my two-part memoir attests, but the Rhine in Flames is one of the most enduring. 

All the homes and shops across the river were aglow with the lights in their windows and people strolling along the promenades on both banks, like Koblenz’s Rheinanlagen, wore little battery-powered lights in their lapels or hanging from their breast pockets.  And there we were, like the Kaiser in his box at the theater!  Eat your hearts out, New Year’s Eve revelers in Times Square!  This was a celebration!

[Last Saturday, 9 November, was the 30th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall; it was all over the news.  I mentioned above that I served in West Berlin with the army ten years after the time I lived in Koblenz, but I didn’t say that I arrived in Berlin just a few days before the 10th anniversary of the Wall’s construction—13 August 1971.  (I had gotten to Berlin on 29 July.)

[As many ROTters know, I was a Military Intelligence special agent, and  the first real MI operation in which I was involved in Berlin was the demonstration coverage of the two marches marking the day—one by leftists supporting the Wall and one by rightists opposing it.  I wrote about this in a post marking the 20th anniversary of the Wall coming down (called simply “The Berlin Wall,” posted on 29 November 2009).  It was quite an introduction to my coming 2½ years behind the front lines of the Cold War!

[I have blogged on my experience in Berlin, where the Wall was a ubiquitous presence in our lives, several times since I launched ROT.  Some of my other Berlin posts include “Berlin Station,” 19 and 22 July 2009; “Berlin Stories: Three SNAFU’s,” 18 August 2012; and the eight-part “Berlin Memoir,” 16 and 31 December 2017 and 20 January, 9 and 19 February, 11 and 29 March, and 13 April 2018.]