Withinitwasabitover-clean，abitbare，butwithoutitwasoneofthegreatmemoriesoftherace，therecordofafaithwhichwroughtmiraclesofbeauty，atleast，ifnotpiety。
　　ThetraingavetheMarchesanother，andlast，viewofitastheyslowlydrewoutofthecity，andbegantorunthroughalevelcountrywalledwithfar-offhills；pastfieldsofbuckwheatshowingtheirstemslikecoralundertheirblacktops；pastpeasanthouseschangingtheirwontedshapetotallerandnarrowerforms；pastsluggishstreamsfromwhichthemistroseandhungoverthemeadows，underaredsunset，glassycleartillthemanifoldfactorychimneysofDusseldorfstaineditwiththeirdunsmoke。
　　ThisindustrialgreetingseemedoddfromthetownwhereHeinrichHeinewasborn；butwhentheyhadeatentheirsupperinthecapitallittlehoteltheyfoundthere，andwentoutforastroll，theyfoundnothingtoremindthemofthefactories，andmuchtomakethemthinkofthepoet。
　　Themoon，beautifulandperfectasastagemoon，cameupovertheshoulderofachurchastheypasseddownalongstreetwhichtheyhadalltothemselves。Everybodyseemedtohavegonetobed，butatacertaincorneragirlopenedawindowabovethem，andlookedoutatthemoon。
　　Whentheyreturnedtotheirhoteltheyfoundahighwalledgardenfacingit，fullofblackdepthsoffoliage。InthenightMarchwokeandsawthemoonstandingoverthegarden，andsilveringitsleafytops。Thiswasreallyasitshouldbeinthetownwheretheidolizedpoetofhisyouthwasborn；thepoetwhomofallothershehadadored，andwhohadonceseemedlikealivingfriend；whohadbeenwitnessofhisfirstlove，andhadhelpedhimtospeakit。HiswifeusedtolaughathimforhisHeine-
　　worshipinthosedays；butshehadsincecometoshareit，andshe，evenmorethanhe，hadinsisteduponthispilgrimage。Hethoughtlongthoughtsofthepast，ashelookedintothegardenacrosstheway，withanacheforhisperishedselfandthedeadcompanionshipofhisyouth，allghoststogetherinthesilveredshadow。Thetreesshudderedinthenightbreeze，anditschillpenetratedtohimwherehestood。
　　Hiswifecalledtohimfromherroom，“Whatareyoudoing？”
　　“Oh，sentimentalizing。”heansweredboldly。
　　“Well，youwillbesick。”shesaid，andhecreptbackintobedagain。
　　Theyhadsatuplate，talkinginagladexcitement。Buthewokeearly，asanelderlymanisapttodoafterbrokenslumbers，andlefthiswifestillsleeping。Hewasnotsoeagerforthepoeticinterestsofthetownashehadbeenthenightbefore；heevendeferredhiscuriosityforHeine’sbirth-housetotheinstructiveconferencewhichhehadwithhiswaiteratbreakfast。Afterall，wasnotitmoreimportanttoknowsomethingoftheactuallifeofasimplecommonclassofmenthantoindulgeafadedfancyforthememoryofagenius，whichnoamountofassociationscouldfeedagaintoitsformerbloom？ThewaitersaidhewasaNuremberger，andhadlearnedEnglishinLondonwherehehadservedayearfornothing。Afterwards，whenhecouldspeakthreelanguageshegotapoundaweek，whichseemedlowforsomany，thoughnotsolowastheonemarkadaywhichhenowreceivedinDusseldorf；inBerlinhepaidthehoteltwomarksaday。Marchconfidedtohimhissecrettroubleastotips，andtheytriedvainlytoenlighteneachotherastowhatajusttipwas。
　　Hewenttohisbanker’s，andwhenhecamebackhefoundhiswifewithherbreakfasteaten，andsoeagerfortheexplorationofHeine’sbirthplacethatsheheardwithindifferenceofhisfailuretogetanyletters。Itwastoosoontoexpectthem，shesaid，andthensheshowedhimherplan，whichshehadbeenworkingouteversinceshewoke。ItcontainedeveryplacewhichHeinehadmentioned，andshewasdeterminednotoneshouldescapethem。Sheexaminedhimsharplyuponhiscondition，accusinghimofhavingtakencoldwhenhegotupinthenight，andacquittinghimwithdifficulty。Sheherselfwasperfectlywell，butalittlefagged，andtheymusthaveacarriage。
　　Theysetoutinalordlytwo-spanner，whichtookuphalfthelittleBolkerstrassewhereHeinewasborn，whentheystoppedacrossthewayfromhisbirthhouse，sothatshemightfirsttakeitallinfromtheoutsidebeforetheyenteredit。Itisasimplestreet，andnotthecleanestofthestreetsinatownwheremostofthemareratherdirty。Belowthehousesareshops，andthefirststoryofHeine’shouseisabutchershop，withsidesofporkandmuttonhanginginthewindows；above，wheretheHeinefamilymustoncehavelived，agold-beaterandaframe-makerdisplayedtheirsigns。
　　ButdidtheHeinefamilyreallyoncelivethere？Thehouselookedsofreshandnewthatinspiteofthetabletinitsfrontaffirmingitthepoet’sbirthplace，theydoubted；andtheywerenotreassuredbythepeoplewhohalfhaltedastheypassed，andstaredatthestrangers，soanomalouslyinterestedintheplace。Theydismounted，andcrossedtothebutchershopwheretheprovisionmancorroboratedthetablet，butcouldnotunderstandtheirwishtogoupstairs。Hedidnottrytopreventthem，however，andtheyclimbedtothefirstfloorabove，whereaplacardonthedoordeclareditprivateandimploredthemnottoknock。Wasthistheoutcomeoftheinmate’sdespairfromtheintrusionofotherpilgrimswhohadwisedtoseetheHeinedwelling-rooms？Theydurstnotknockandasksomuch，andtheysadlydescendedtotheground-floor，wheretheyfoundabutcherboyofmuchgreaterapparentintelligencethanthebutcherhimself，whotoldthemthatthebuildinginfrontwasasnewasitlooked，andthehousewhereHeinewasreallybornwastheoldhouseintherear。Heshowedthemthishouse，acrossalittlecourtpatchedwithmangygrassandlilac-bushes；andwhentheywishedtovisititheledtheway。Theplacewasstrewnbothunderfootandoverheadwithfeathers；ithadoncebeenallagardenouttothestreet，theboysaid，butfromthesefeathers，aswellastheodorwhichprevailed，andtheanxiousbehaviorofafewhensleftinthehighcoopatoneside，itwasplainthatwhatremainedofthegardenwasnowachickenslaughteryard。Therewasonewell-growntree，andtheboysaiditwasofthepoet’stime；butwhenheletthemintothehouse，hebecamevagueastotheroomwhereHeinewasborn；itwascertainonlythatitwassomewhereupstairsandthatitcouldnotbeseen。Theroomwheretheystoodwastheframe-
　　maker’sshop，andtheyboughtofhimasmallframeforamemorial。Theyboughtofthebutcher’sboy，notsocommercially，abranchoflilac；andtheycameaway，thinkinghowmuchamusedHeinehimselfwouldhavebeenwiththeirvisit；howsadly，howmerrilyhewouldhavemockedattheirefforttoreverehisbirthplace。
　　Theyweretoooldifnottoowisetobedauntedbytheirdefeat，andtheydrovenexttotheoldcourtgardenbesidetheRhinewherethepoetsaysheusedtoplaywiththelittleVeronika，andprobablydidnot。Atanyrate，thegardenisgone；theSchlosswasburneddownlongago；andnothingremainsbutadetachedtowerinwhichthegoodElectorJanWilhelm，ofHeine’stime，amusedhimselfwithhismanymechanicalinventions。Thetowerseemedtobeinprocessofdemolition，butanintelligentworkmanwhocamedownoutofit，wasinterestedinthestrangers’curiosity，anddirectedthemtoaplacebehindtheHistoricalMuseumwheretheycouldfindabitoftheoldgarden。Itconsistedoftwoorthreelowtrees，andunderthemthestatueoftheElectorbywhichHeinesatwiththelittleVeronika，ifhereallydid。Afreshgaleblowingthroughthetreesstirredthebushesthatbackedthestatue，butnotthelaurelwreathingtheElector’shead，andmeetinginaneatpointoverhisforehead。Thelaurelwreathisstone，liketherestoftheElector，whostandstheresmirkinginmarbleermineandarmor，andrestinghisbatononthenoseofaverysmalllion，who，intheexigenciesofforeshortening，obliginglygoestonothingbutatailundertheElector’srobe。
　　Thiswasaprincewholovedhimselfineffigysomuchthatheraisedanequestrianstatuetohisownrenowninthemarket-place，thoughhemodestlyrefusedthecreditofit，andascribeditserectiontotheaffectionofhissubjects。Youseehimthereinafull-bottomedwig，mountedonarampantchargerwithatailasbigroundasabarrel，andheavyenoughtokeephimfromcomingdownonhisforelegsaslongashelikestoholdthemup。Itwastothishorse’sbackthatHeineclamberedwhenasmallboy，toseetheFrenchtakeformalpossessionofDusseldorf；
　　andheclungtothewaistofthebronzeElector，whohadjustabdicated，whiletheburgomastermadealongspeech，fromthebalconyoftheRathhaus，andtheElectoralarmsweretakendownfromitsdoorway。
　　TheRathhausisasalad-dressingofGermangothicandFrenchrococoastoitsarchitecturalstyle，andischarminginitsway，buttheMarcheswereinthemarket-placeforthesakeofthatmomentofHeine’sboyhood。Theyfeltthathemighthavebeentheboywhostoppedasheranbeforethem，andsmackedthestomachofalargepumpkinlyingatthefeetofanoldmarket-woman，andthendashedawaybeforeshecouldframeaprotestagainsttheindignity。FromthisincidenttheyphilosophizedthattheboysofDusseldorfareasmischievousattheendofthecenturyastheywereatthebeginning；andtheyfeltthefascinationthatsuchabounteous，unkemptoldmarketplacemusthavefortheboysofanyperiod。
　　Thereweremagnificentvegetablesofallsortsinit，andifthefruitsweremeagrethatwasthefaultoftherainysummer，perhaps。Themarket-
　　placewasverydirty，andsowasthenarrowstreetleadingdownfromittotheRhine，whichranswiftasamountaintorrentalongaslatternlyquay。Abridgeofboatscrossingthestreamshookintherapidcurrent，andalongprocessionofmarketcartspassedslowlyover，whileaclusterofscowswaitedinpicturesquepatienceforthedrawtoopen。
　　Theysawwhatabeautifultownthatwasforaboytogrowupin，andhowmanyprivilegesitoffered，howmanydangers，howmanychancesforhairbreadthescapes。TheychosethatHeinemustoftenhaverushedshriekingjoyfullydownthatfoulalleytotheRhinewithotherboys；andtheyeasilyfoundaleaf-strewnstretchofthesluggishDussel，inthePublicGarden，wherehisplaymate，thelittleWilhelm，losthislifeandsavedthekitten’s。TheywerenotsosureoftheavenuethroughwhichthepoetsawtheEmperorNapoleoncomeridingonhissmallwhitehorsewhenhetookpossessionoftheElector’sdominions。ButifitwasthatwherethestatueoftheKaiserWilhelmI。comesridingonahorseledbytwoVictories，bothpoetandheroareavengedthereontheaccomplishedfact。DefeatedandhumiliatedFrancetriumphsinthebadnessofthatfoolishdenkmaloneoftheworstinalldenkmal-riddenGermany，andthememoryofthesingerwhomtheHohenzollernfamilyprideforbidshonorinhisnativeplace，isimmortalinitspresence。
　　Onthewaybacktotheirhotel，Marchmadesomereflectionsupontheopenneglect，throughoutGermany，ofthegreatestGermanlyrist，bywhichthepoetmighthaveprofitedifhehadbeenpresent。HecontendedthatitwasnotaltogetheraneffectofHohenzollernpride，whichcouldnotsufferajokeortwofromthearch-humorist；butthatHeinehadsaidthingsofGermanyherselfwhichGermansmightwellhavefoundunpardonable。Heconcludedthatitwouldnotdotobeperfectlyfrankwithone’sowncountry。Though，tobesure，therewouldalwaysbethequestionwhethertheJew-bornHeinehadevenastep-fatherlandintheGermanyhelovedsotenderlyandmockedsopitilessly。HehadtoownthatifhewereanegropoethewouldnotfeelboundtomeasuretermsinspeakingofAmerica，andhewouldnotfeelthathisfamewasinherkeeping。