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UNSVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA
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THE GIFT OF
MAY TREAT MORRISON
IN MEMORY OF
ALEXANDER F MORRISON
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BY
MRS. L. C. LANE.
Scrijiseris
< * * * » * Si quid tanien olim
* ttonuinque prematur in annum :
* * * nescit vox missa reverti."
" But if ever you shall write anything, let it be suppressed till the ninth year ;
a word once sent abroad can never return."
— Horace.
SAN FR.\NCISCO:
A. L. BANCROFT & COMPANY.
1886.
J '
Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1886,
By Mrs. L, C. Lane,
In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.
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Inviting beam the skies of Morning lands
To us who tarry by far Western strands ;
The pilgrim's longings in our bosoms wake,
From wonted task we willing respite take ;
N 'Neath Southern Cross, 'neath Northern Star,
^ With questioning eye and thought we wander far,
While now fair Art and now sweet Nature wooes,
Z. And rival lands with varying charm confuse.
in
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c: Reluctant back to shores that claim our birth
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We turn, to find the fairest spot on earth
Is home, sweet home."
P. C. L.
4g9780
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER. PAGE.
I. — QUEENSTOWN — CoRK — BlARNEY CaSTLE — LaKES
OF KiLLARNEY MUCKROSS AbBEY - - - 9
11. — Antiquity of Ireland — Bogs — St. Bridget's
Monastery — Ancient Dublin — Strongbovv
and Eva — Past and Present — University
and Parliament House - - - - - 26
III. — Round Towers — Portrush — Giants' Cause-
way - - - - - - - 39
IV. — Glasgow — Edinburgh — Ayr - - - 50
V. — London — Royal Institute - - - - 58
VI. — Climate — Men and Women - - - 70
VII. — London — Letter to a Friend - - - 82
VIII. — St. Paul's — Westminster Abbey - - 88
IX. — The Tower of London ----- 104
X. — Knights Templer and Their Temple - - 117
XL — British Museum — Carlyle in his Home —
Albert Memorlal — National Portrait Gal-
leries — Huxley AS Teacher and Lecturer
— London School of Cookery - - - 131
vi. CONTENTS.
CHAPTER. PAGE.
XII. — Avignon — The Year of Jubilee - - 145
XIII. — Avignon — Letter to a Friend - - i55
XIV. — Avignon — History - - - - 159
XV. — Savoy — Uriage — Mt. Cenis Tunnel —
Italy - - - - - - -169
XVI. — Milan — Palace and Cathedral - - 177
XVII. — M I L A N — Galleria Vittorio — Italian
Lakes - - - - - - -184
XVIIL— Switzerland — Lak e Lucerne — Lake
Geneva - - - - - - 192
XIX. — The Rhine — Cologne — Berne — Stras-
BURG — Hamburg - - - - - 201
XX. — Denmark — Copenhagen — Market Place
— Holmenskirche - - - - 213
XXI. — Copenhagen — Thorwaldsen — His Life,
Works and Museum - - - - 224
XXII . — Copenhagen — Fredericksberg Have —
Gardens of Tivoli and Vauxhall —
Denmark's Sculptors - - - 235
XXIII. — From Denmark to Norway — Christiania - 243
XXIV. — Scenery IN Norway — Incidents of Travel 253
XXV. — Autumn in Norway — Rural Life - - 262
XXVI. — Lake Tinn — The Oldest Church in
Norway — Dress and Morals of the
Peasantry - - - - - - 270
XXVII. — Falls of Tinnefoss — A Norwegian Inn —
Return to Christiania - - - 279
CONTENTS. vii.
CHAPTER. PAGE.
XXVIII. — Sweden and its Lakes — A Swedish Inn - 286
XXIX. — Stockholm — House of Emanuel Sweden-
BORG — Royal Palace — Hotels — - Ole
Bull - - - - - - 294
XXX. — Stockholm — Public Building s — Royal
Mausoleum -- - - - -302
XXXI. — Stockholm's Museum — Mythology in
Statuary and Paintings — Relics - 310
XXXII. — Upsala — Its University — Cathedral —
Monuments — Home of Linnaeus - - 320
XXXIII. — St. Petersburg — View of the City from
the Neva — Beauty of Architecture —
Brilliancy of Coloring - - - 329
XXXIV. ^ — St. Petersburg — Tomb of Alexander
Nevsky — Statue of Peter the Great
— Magnificent Churches — Surpassing
Splendor of the Cathedral of St.
Isaac ------- 337
XXXV. — St. Petersburg — Winter Palace - - 348
XXXVI. — St. Petersburg — Devoutness of the
People — Tea Drinking and Smoking —
Imperial Museum of Catherine the
Great — Fortress of St. Peter and St.
Paul — Royal Tombs — -Visit of the
Czar to the Tomb of his Son - - 357
XXXVII. — A Royal Celebration in Berlin — The
Emperor of Germany and his Court —
The Chapel of the Old Schloss - - 370
viii. CONTENTS.
CHAPTER. PAGE.
XXXVIII.— Alexandria — Egyptian W o men — Cos-
tumes — Street Scenes - - - 380
XXXIX. — From Alexandria to Cairo — Happy
Beggars — Water Carriers — Villages
OF Mud Huts — A Moslem Burying-
Ground ------ 388
XL. — Cairo — Hotels — Pyramids — Visit to a
Bedouin's Home - - - - 396
XLI. — Heliopolis — Mary's Well — Obelisk of
OusERTAN — Dragoman — Sais - - 409
XLII. — Citadel of Cairo — University of Egypt
— Mosques ----- 420
XLIII. — Palace of Gheezeh — Departure - - 43°
LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
I.
QUEENSTOWN— CORK— BLARNEY CASTLE— LAKES OF
KILLARNEY— MUCKROSS ABBEY.
^F there be any among us, who, after a sea
voyage longer or shorter, does not bless
his sole when his foot once again presses
the solid earth, he must be of other than Dar-
winian origin, — one whose ancestry is to be traced
to some beknighted Finn, or at least to the finny
tribes; and, if he land in the lap of Oueenstown,
as she sits in her terraced loveliness, gracefully
encircling the Cove of Cork, he may well be
content with the beauties of earth, forgettinof those
of the waters under the earth.
Oueenstown was formerly known by the name
of Cove, which was changed to its present name
in commemoration of a visit of the Queen. A
half hour up the river Lee by boat, or along its
banks by rail, brings us to the city of Cork. One
need not wish for a more charminof introduction
to any country than this gives to the stranger.
Indeed, nowhere else in Ireland did we find nature
lO LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
SO wreathed' in smile?, as on the picturesque banks
pf :th"e ,''ii\)fer'L'ee,' .'whete she greeted us with an
aspect as bright and cheering as the welcoming
Horht in the eves of a friend.
Cork, which must have been uncorked when
we were there, judging from its dripping wet,
offers but little attractive or interesting. Perhaps
what first strikes the American here is the resem-
blance of the physiognomy of the population of
this city to that of our larger ones, particularly of
the Eastern States. This must come from the
mixture of Irish blood, which the large stream of
immigration has brought to us. The erect figure
of the people here was somewhat remarkable,
and we watched in vain to see the bent form of
age. They may be crushed to earth, but they
manaofe. nevertheless, to carrv their heads hi^jh.
The local feature which, perhaps, most strangely
impresses Cork upon the mind, is the Shandon
steeple, of which three sides are white, being
built from the ruins of the Franciscan Abbey;
the other side is of red sandstone, from the ruins
of an old castle. In this steeple hang the beauti-
ful toned
*' Bells of Shandon,
That sound so grand on
The pleasant waters
Of the river Lee,"
which inspired Father Prout to write the song
which is sure to awaken in the memory of us all
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 1 I
I
some tone that will almost drown the Present in
its magic recalling of the Past; for of all the
familiar sounds of our earlier years, perhaps there
is none so universally recalled, and recalled with
such touching pleasure, as the wonted music from
the church bells, throbbmg in tune with the pulse
of harmonious Nature, or vibrating with deep-
toned voice through the hushed air of the city
Sabbath.
"With deep affection,
And recollection,
I often think of those Shandon Bells,
Who?;e sounds so wild would,
In the days of childhood,
Fling round my cradle
Their magic spells."
Whoever comes to Cork, comes as a matter of
course to Blarney, or to Blarney Castle, which is
but five or six miles distant. Although a pretty
enough ruin, it is more romantic from the light of
song than from the shades of time.
"Oh, when a young bachelor wooes a young maid.
Who 's eager to go, and yet willing to stay.
She sighs and she blushes, and looks half afraid,
Yet loses no word that her lover can say.
What is it she hears but the blarney ?
Oh, a perilous thing is this blarney!
Oh, say, would you find this same blarney,
There's a castle not far from Killarney,
On the top of the wall —
But take care you don't fall —
There's a stone that contains all this blarney."
12 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
The Blarney Stone here pointed out as the "rale
stone," is at the top of the tower in the wall just
below the parapet, where it is clasped by two iron
bands and could only be reached by hanging head
downwards through the embrasure, at the risk of
breaking one's neck. I have, however, good
reasons to believe that we have stones of the same
virtue nearer home and much easier of access. If
the traveler now asks whither he shall next go, his
own fancy and all Ireland will point to the Lakes
of Killarney, and on to Killarney he is sure to go.
The railroad brings him there three hours from
Cork.
The town of Killarney, which contains upwards
of 5,000 inhabitants, is the property of the Earl
of Kenmare, a Roman Catholic peer. It is an
untidy-looking town, offering no inducements to
stop at the very inviting-looking hotel, and you
are almost certain to proceed some three miles
further to one of the several hotels overlooking,
or in near vicinity to, the lakes.
And what a drive of wondrous beauty is this !
The road, somewhat narrow, but white and smooth
as a floor, is enclosed on both sides by high stone
walls that shut out in a great measure the sight of
the fields beyond; directly behind these walls,
extend on both sides for some two miles unbroken
lines of majestic trees, which stand quite close
together and form overhead so dense an arch of
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 1 3
leafy verdure that the noon-day is converted into
twilight. The peculiar beauty comes upon you so
suddenly and envelops you so completely, that
you begin to think of the fairies of this country,
and you believe in the beauties of fairyland.
As you approach the few scattered dwellings
called by courtesv the " Villaofe" of Cloehreen, the
landscape opens to the view, and on a hill at our
left, a burial-place to-day as it was in the past, we
see the ancient church of Killaghie, said to be the
smallest in the kingdom, as is easily believed.
It is, of course, of stone, walls and roof still
unbroken, the former three feet thick, while
the roof, half covered with wild flowers and
grasses that have taken root in its crevices, looks,
and probably is, equally heavy. The stone belfry
is partly in ruins ; the floor inside is fallen in, but
at the end we see a plain marble altar, a foot or
two in front of which several steps descend into
a burial vault, the remains of whose tenant or
tenants have long since disappeared. If they
built according to their faith, the faith of the
builders must have been small.
At the foot of this hill, and just fitted in size
to the way-side nook it occupies, is a beautiful little
modern church, which the Protestant owner of
this demesne has built, and which he supports for
himself and tenantry. It forms, in its architect-
ural taste and harmony with the scene, a minia-
14 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
ture gem in the chain of magic beauty thrown
around the Lakes of Killarney.
The greatest charm of Irish scenery Hes in its
coloring ; the green is wonderful, so brilliant, so
living, intense, yet delicate as a fairy's wing ; and
no one endowed with any degree of sensitiveness
to the power of Nature, could tarry by the Lakes
of Killarney without being impressed by a sensa-
tion almost supernatural in the magic effect of the
hushed air, unbroken by song of bird or hum
of insect, and this greenness of Nature's robe
almost unearthly in its beauty, and intensified by
the constant gray of the skies overhead. We felt
the effect of the stillness for some days before we
thought to inquire its cause, and were greatly
astonished at finding its apparent explanation in
the absence of birds and almost total absence of
insects.
On the morning after our arrival, just at that
state of uncertain consciousness when one is apt
to be opening the mouth instead of the eyes, a
voice called to us, " Are you going through the
gap to-day?" Supposing this to be the Irish way
of asking if one was waking up, we answered,
"Yes;" but the experience of a day or two con-
vincing us that the people here were not much
given to being wide awake, we took pains to find
out the meaning of this regular morning saluta-
tion, and found it to mean nothing else than to
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 1 5
ask if we were going to make the tour of the
lakes that day.
After waiting for good weather and seeking in
vain for some weather-wise seer, we were obhged
to do as everybody else did — prepare for rain,
hope for sunshine, and start. For the profit of
the people hereabouts, whose only business seems
to be to swarm around travelers, our trip is broken
into parts, so that a large number of persons are
called upon to wait on us, and thus a larger num-
ber of those "remembrancers" which one is
expected to give to everyone who serves him, are
distributed every day among a dozen or more
persons, who find fault with a sixpence, look dis-
contented with a shilling, and are never quite
contented with one's attempt to satisfy their
" whatever you please sir."
On reaching the town of Killarney we were
surrounded by a score or more of men and boys
with ponies, which they wished us to hire for our
ride through the Gap of Dunloe, to which our
conveyance was to carry us, and through which
there was no reason it should not take us, except
the principle of division of labor, or rather, of
wages. It was almost impossible to rid ourselves
of this cavalcade, which accompanied us more
than a mile, when it began to diminish till finally
it numbered two ponies to each passenger. In
vain did we tell the extra ones that they were not
1 6 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
wanted. In vain did we explain that none of us
intended to ride more than one horse at a time;
each one understood himself and pony to be hired,
and went with us till he despaired of being hired
to turn back.
Havinof rode some eio;ht or ten miles, our driver
told us that was as far as the conveyance was to
take us, so at his request, "remembering the
driver," we left hini to mount our ponies, and, by
the way, the only "Irish bull" I saw in Ireland was
an "Irish pony," for in length and height the pony
is a good-sized horse and can only derive its name
from its semi-transparency.
All the way from Killarney, after having first
been accosted by the man with the bundle of
shillelahs under his arm, who invited us to buy
"a rifle that never missed fire." wc had been
followed by troops of children, who made nothing
of running and keeping up with the carriage or
"car" for a mile and begging all the way. " The
price of a book, sir," or "a penny, sir," "don't be
so small with your silver, sir, and we'll show you
how grateful we'll be, sir;" and during our drive
and ride of more than a dozen miles there could not
have been a mile altogether that the cry for a gift
was not being sounded in our ears; little children
who could not talk enough to beg, ran by the side
of the older ones till they tottered and fell. The
children were clean and healthy looking, and
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 1/
seemed to thoroughly enjoy the business. Their
principal cry was for "the price of a book," and
considering how little they cared for books, this
formed one of the ludicrous features of the trip.
It was of no use that we said to them, "igfnorance
is bliss," " knowledge is unhappiness," and other
trite proverbs — they still insisted that the thirst for
knowledge is as insatiable to-day in Erin as it
once was in Eden.
Having reached the Gap of Dunloe, this enter-
tainment was varied by the addition of women,
awaiting at intervals of a few steps to offer us a
"dhrap of the mountain dew." We were told that
from the place where we took horses to the lake
the distance was four miles, and the few unfortu-
nate ones who, forgetting it was four Irish miles,
chose to walk rather than to trust to the ponies,
were sadly wearied.
We found the pass by no means equal to what
we had been lold of it. The grandest feature
was the Purple Mountain, which rises abruptly to
the height of nearly 3,000 feet. It derives its
name from the dark stones with which a great
part of its surface is covered, and which give a
dark purple color to the mountain. Our expecta-
tions were, however, more than realized at the
wondrously fine echoes at several points. Never
was I more entranced by sound than when I
heard the voice of the mountain take up the
1 8 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
bugle-notes and repeat them, first from near, then
from afar, till we felt that we could stand for hours
listening to the wild, soft music.
We pass a remarkable stream, which the guides
call the "Hidden River;" it is apparently the
outlet of a lake beyond, whose waters have become
lost under the immense heap of debris of rather
small stones which fill up the bed of the valley;
the ear can distinguish the sound of unseen
running water. Beyond this we come to a lake
whose waters are dark almost to blackness,
under the shadow of the overhanging mountain ;
it is called Serpent Lake, and tradition has made
St. Patrick select it as the burial-place of the last
snake which he carefully enclosed in a wooden
box before entrusting it to these waters to carry
it to the depths of Ocean.
Passing beyond the Purple Mountain, we
emerge into the Gap as the road turns into an
open country, and here we leave at our right a
misty gorge extending far into the distance
between two ranges of hills, through which we
indistinctly trace the winding course of the
Gerhameen River making its way to the waters
of the Upper Lake. Here in this black valley
" fairies love to dwell," and many a guide will
tell you h(; has seen them there. Soon we come
to the Logan Stone, remarkable for being so
nicely balanced that it can be made to move by a
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 1 9
slight touch. It is much smaller than we had
imagined, being only some twenty feet in circum-
ference.
At last we reach the shore of the lake, and
each of the party having "remembered" the
bugler, and "remembered" the cannoneer, we
now " remember" our guides, and dismissing them
with their ponies, enter the boats that have been
sent up from the hotel to meet us at the Lakes,
the boatmen of which are to be "remembered" in
their turn, although the services of all these men
are charged to us again in our bill.
The Lakes of Kdlarney are three in number
and about eleven miles in length; the Upper Lake
is two and one-half miles long, by half a mile in
width; it is more completely shut in by the moun-
tains that rise abruptly from its shores, than either
of the other lakes ; the outlet from it is by a little
strait but a few feet in width, and as this is hidden
by jutting rocks we seem to be entirely shut in
by land, and the eye seeks in vain for an outlet.
This lake is dotted by twelve islands covered with
vegetation, mostly the wild arbutus tree which
grows luxuriantly everywhere in this region. The
strait connecting the Upper and Middle Lakes
which are also known by the names of Muckross
and Tore Lakes, is about two miles long, and at
its lower end we reach a spot as romantically
beautiful as can be found in Ireland. Here the
20 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
trees dip their branches into the unrippled water
that borrows its coloring from the surrounding
foHage. and the scene impresses itself upon one's
mind as a perfect picture of placid loveliness.
The spot is called "The Meeting of the Waters,"
for here at the outlet of the Upper Lake you may
turn westward into a bay which opens into the
Lower Lake, or eastward directly into Muckross
Lake.
Here a picturesque-looking stone bridge of
two arches spans the stream, making an entrance
into the Middle Lake quite romantic enough to
harmonize with the ofeneral scene. This lake is
about the length of the upper one, and not more
than a mile in width. It, too, has its islands, but
the tourist's attention is more occupied with the
echoes which the guide will not fail to awaken.
The Muckross peninsula makes the division
between the Middle and Lower Lakes.
The Lower Lake also bears the name of Lou^^h
Leane, which means the Lake of Learnincj, said
to be derived from the fact of its shores and
islands havin^f formerlv been the site of several
monasteries, the ruins of which still remain. This
is a very probable inference, since there is unques-
tionable testimony that learning flourished in
Ireland in the early ages, when the rest of Europe
was in a benighted condition. This lake is five
miles long and two and a half miles in width.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 2 1
Its outlet is the River Laune, through which
the waters of these charminor lakes are carried
to mix with the great waves of the sea, there,
like a modest maiden entering the vortex of
society, to lose a charm which neither the
grandeur nor the noise of their future career can
ever replace.
Lough Leane makes an impression upon the
beholder quite distinct from that of the other two;
first, from its wider expanse, and secondly, from
its shores, which, though on one side bearing in
the background mountains that bespeak sister-
hood with the other lakes, encircle it the rest of
the distance with a low, soft landscape. The
surface of the lake is broken by nearly thirty
islands, among which the visitor will be most
curious to see that of Innisfallen.
On this island we find no attraction wanting
which this lovely region can afford, and as the
gods and goddesses of Greece once loaded Pan-
dora with gifts to make her more complete, so must
the genii of Ireland have sought to endow this
spot with everything to make its beauty perfect.
The remains of its old abbey, said to have been
founded 1,200 years ago, lie scattered in ruins.
This lake, in particular, is the home of legendary
lore. The rocks, many of which rising from the
water present fantastic shapes wrought by the dis-
inteofratino- touch of the waves, have received
2 2 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
names relating to these traditions, as the O'Dono-
ghue's Horse, the O'Donoghue's Castle, etc.
The O'Donoghue was the great chief of this
valley in ancient times, and to this day crosses
the lake on the morning of the first of every May,
the waters dividing and giving a dry path to him-
self and the white horse he always rides, as any
one may see with his own eyes if he will get up
early enough. The almost hourly fall of a gentle
rain, which resembles mist more than a shower,
is known as the O'Donoghue's Blessings, and is, I
suspect, the secret of the brilliant green color
which renders this vicinity an Emerald Isle indeed.
And now, having told so much which must
command the admiration of every beholder, I
come to that which was first, last and oftenest seen
by me, and which, by the thoughts it awakened,
has made the most lasting impression. This was
the ruins of Muckross Abbey, whose stony finger
beckoned, and ever beckoned me toward it and
seemed to hold me under a spell. No ruined
abbey or castle in all Great Britain has presented
us a more harmonious picture than this. In many
other cases — and usually where we had been led
to expect most — either the surroundings have
marred the effect or the ruins have been insufifi-
cient to support the imagination; but here was a
ruin which, like the Laocoon to the hand of Art,
might serve as a model to the finger of Decay.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 23
The surroundinofs — the frame-work in which the
abbey is set — brings the beholder into a mood to
appreciate the chief figure when he suddenly comes
upon it. Soft green fields stretching all around as
far as one can see, and to the borders of the lake,
glimpses of which, here and there, break the land-
scape; add to the picture long, shaded avenues of
majestic giant trees, ending sometimes in thick
copses which crown the rising ground, sometimes
opening into fields where other leafy monarchs
stand in isolated orandeur, but evervwhere with
their lofty tops and wide-spreading branches
striving to cover this corner of the earth with a
heaven of their own, and to shut out every inhar-
monious effect ; and, having been obliged to
meander far enough to be brought wholly under
the influence of this landscape, suddenly the gray
walls of Muckross Abbey, half overgrown with
ivy, break upon the vision. The roof has entirely
disappeared, but the walls are nearly complete, and
the beautiful arches of door and window unbroken.
The cloisters surrounding the open court within
are entirely perfect, and we could seem to feel the
hand of Ages leading us as we made round and
round again the circuit of these stone aisles, looking
out through their arches into the open space shut
in overhead by the branches of a yew tree six
hundred years old growing in its center, and ming-
linor the shadow of its branches with that of the
24 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
old gray walls surrounding the unmarked graves
of the monks, who centuries ago had walked as
we were walking under these same arched cloisters,
had looked into this same secluded spot, and had
listened, perchance, to the mystic voice of this same
yew tree, whose sapling branches witnessed
nothing more cheerful than the enfolding in the
mantle of earth those who had long before
enwrapped themselves in the burial cloak of
monastic seclusion.
Having wandered through the remaining parts
of the convent, we enter the chapel through a
doorway softly draped in ivy. and stand among
the tombs of the old Kings of Munster and Princes
of Desmond, whose royal remains here found
royal sepulture beneath stones whose lettering has
been effaced by the passing years, and from which
the "gentle rain and soft-falling dew" have wiped
off the proud tracery of their heraldic crest.
Proud kings of olden time, little did you dream in
your day of pomp, glory and power, that a not
far-distant hour was to snatch your envied scepter
and give it to other hands ; and that the future
was to witness your dust lying here unwept and
almost unknown, honored only by strangers from
far-distant shores ! Though forgotten by posterity,
Nature fails not in her homage to you, since the
ivy, old of uncounted years, never ceases to hang
garlands of unfading green upon the walks that
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 25
inclose and overshadow your tombs; and, still
more, though unwept by your subjects, the aged
and noble yew tree that has struck its roots deep
into the earth near you, never forgets to drop its
tributes of grief, funereal offerings, upon your
grave.
MucKROSs, Ireland, July, 1874.
26 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
II.
ANTIQUITY OF IRELAND— BOGS— ST. BRIDGET'S MONAS-
TERY—ANCIENT DUBLIN— STRONGBOW AND EVA-
PAST AND PRESENT— UNIVERSITY AND PARLIAMENT
HOUSE.
T is difficult for an American, accustomed to
a history of so recent a birth as ours, to
cease — among these old civilizations of
Europe — from asking the question, " When did it
begin?" and to propound to himself that more
proper to be suggested, "How much longer will it
last!" True to this mental index of nationality I
traveled through my first European country —
Ireland — and, as ruin after ruin arose on the nearer
or more distant horizon, I ever asked the question,
*' When did it begin — when did it begin?"
He who delights in the ingenuity of fable, may
embark on the ancient chronicles of this country,
and, riding upon the waters of the flood, arrive
at the antediluvian history of Ireland, which,
according thereto, was first settled by one of Noah's
nieces. But historians who have cast the line of
investigation into the deep well of the Past, with
no desire to read what the waters of the flood
must have washed away, still find much to indicate
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 27
that the history of I reland reaches far back into
antiquity. Moses tells us that the isles of the
Gentiles were inhabited, and interpreters generally
agree that by this is meant the islands of Europe ;
and it is supposed by some archaeologists that,
before the introduction of idolatry by the Milesians
from Spain, a patriarchal form of worship prevailed
in Ireland, similiar to that founded on the statutes
of the sons of Noah; while philologists in their turn
have believed to discover that the ancient Irish
language bears so great an affinity to the ancient
Hebrew, as plainly to be but a dialect of the latter
language, and they make this a foundation for a
very ancient history to be built upon, since "if
a language be ancient the people must be as
old." They have asserted, moreover, that the
ancient Irish language has no affinity with any
known language in the world except the Hebrew
and Phenician, and have supposed it to have
been universally spoken throughout Europe, and
to be the most original and unmixed language
remaining-.
But though the historical atmosphere of Ireland
is as misty as the physical atmosphere of its most
western limits, there is a orreat deal of interesting^
ancient tradition which may be accepted as reliable,
and which one at all familiar even with Irish song,
to say nothing of its superstitions, can hardly
help stumbling upon. For instance, having sung
28 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
all our lives about the harp that hangs on Tara's
walls, it occurs to us on seeing so many ancient
castles, that " Tara's walls" may not have been
a mere figure of speech or song ; and lo ! it
becomes a definitely located capital existing six
hundred years before the birth of Christ, em-
bellished by royal residences for all the kings,
queens, and princes of the different provinces of
Ireland.
Modern travel is, however, but little compatible
with dwellinof lon^ on anv theme, either of the
past or present, and we hurry across the island
behind one of the queerest-looking steam engines
imaginable, a squatty kind of carriage that looks
as if sitting down to rest, and we are surprised
that it does not stand up when ready to start, but
slips along in its apparently half-sitting posture.
But already we begin to enjoy that admirable
regulation in this country in regard to railroads,
which makes it obligatory to so construct the
engines that they shall, to a great degree, consume
their own smoke, and, after having from one side
of our continent to the other, wiped cinders and
smoke from one's face till it was almost raw, it is
indeed a luxury to travel almost entirely freed from
this annoyance.
Thus enabled comfortably to keep the eyes
open, we curiously scan the landscape, whose first
well-marked and easily recognized features are
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 29
the boo's, and we see in them the natural barricades
of the country in earher ages, which, doubtless,
not only impeded the march of the invader, but
stayed the progress of civdlization as well.
Across Ireland from Killarney to Dublin is a
soniewhat pleasant ride of about eight hours, a
distance of about one hundred and eighty-six
miles by rail, during which the stranger is kept
constantlv on the alert less he miss a single one
of the many ancient castles, which are scattered
around in as much profusion as if the landscape
were a playground for an artist's fancy. Perhaps
as interesting a town as any passed is Kildare,
and that rather for its vanished past than tor its
present. This town is supposed to be the site of
an ancient monastery founded by St. Bridget,
who is said to have received the vail from St.
Patrick's own hands ; and there is a tradition that
from her time in the fifth century till the year
1220 a sacred fire kindled by herself was kept
continually burning by her successors, and, being
extinguished in that year by the Archbishop of
Dublin, was soon afterward rekindled and con-
tinued to burn till the Reformation.
Although I had always heard of Dublin as a
beautiful city, and, for that reason, might have
expected too much, I was not disappointed. There
is something genial and cheery about it, like the
soul of an Irishman, and its wide and cleanly
30 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
Streets have a most inviting aspect, while there is
a good number of fine, commodious and well-kept
hotels where the traveler may find real refi'eshment
at no exorbitant charge. Dublin is old enough
to be interesting for its antiquity. Ptolemy
speaks of its existence, under the name of Eblana,
as early as the year 140; but although it was
enclosed by the Danes in the ninth century, their
ramparts did not exceed one mile. A century
later it was but a DOor collection of huts, and at
the beginnino;- of the eighteenth century it was
one of the most miserable cities in Europe. To
the traveler of to-day its charm is not that of
ancient association.
From the earliest historv of Ireland, Dublin
seems to have been an apple of discord, the key
to supreme power in the Island, the Achilles
tendon at which invaders were sure to aim their
arrows. The last king of Ireland availed himself
of the aid of Strongbow, Earl of Pembroke,
against his enemies, bestowing upon him as a
recompense the hand of his daughter. Henry II.
of England forced Strongbow to relinquish to him
the regal power thus conquered. There is now on
exhibition here a very large and most interesting
painting of the Marriage of Strongbow. The
scene is laid on the side of a hill surmounted by
battlemented walls. In the center of the picture
stands the priest with uplifted eyes and hands
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 3 I
raised over the heads of the bridal pair. Eva,
with the sweetest face that ever graced a maiden
of seventeen summers, 'modest, innocent and
trusting- as one who has never known aught but
affectionate protection, has one hand raised to her
breast, half holding the long mande of cloth of
gold whose train is upheld by some half-dozen
maidens; their faces all contrast strongly with
each other, and each tells of different emotions
excited by the scene, while they all, as well as
the warriors still behind them holding aloft many
colored standards floating in the breeze, have their
eyes riveted on the sweet girlish bride. Clasping
her other hand stands Strongbow, his face
expressing the bravery of valor, the hopefulness
of youth, his helmet adorned with a laurel wreath.
Beside the priest and somewhat behind Eva,
stands Dermod, her father, with head thrown
back and eyes widely opened, seeming to demand
of Strongbow with their proud and piercing ex-
pression, " Is not this a regal reward ? Have I
not royally kept my royal word?" In the fore-
ground and at either side, inclosing the whole, are
the dead and dying ; some writhing in the last
agony, others motionless in death. Wives who
have thrown themselves on the bodies of their
husbands; babes forgotten for the moment, and
among other figures an old harper, apparently
just drawing his last breath, while the strings of
32 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
his harp, from which his hand seems to be falhng,
are nearly all broken.
Almost the first thing noticed by the stranger
in Dublin are the beautiful bridges, seven of stone
and two of iron, spanning at comparatively short
distances the river Liffey, on both sides of which
the city is built. The river, beautiful as it looks
flowing through the heart of the city, is, however,
becoming as perplexing a problem to the munici-
pality as the Thames formerly was to London ;
being a receptacle for the drainage of the city, its
impurities tend to endanger health and generate
disease. Sackville street is one of the principal
thoroughfares of the city, and makes an indelible
picture on the mind. Through its center runs
the Liffey, with its bridges like triumphal arches
marking the progress of art and civilization. On
both sides of the river the street spreads out wide,
well paved, and clean, affording a splendid view
of the buildings, of which some of the public ones
are of almost classical beauty ; and here, as if
borrowing a hint 'from nature, does the tide of
traffic and commerce daily ebb and flow.
In this street, opposite the post-office, itself
an ornament to the city, stands the ubiquitous
monument of Nelson, one of Dublin's greatest
ornaments. It is a Grecian Doric column,
upwards of one hundred and forty feet in height,
surmounted by a statue of the hero, thirteen feet
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. ^7,
in height ; a flight of stairs in its interior leads to
a platform on the top, surrounded by an iron
railing for the safety of such as undergo the
labor of the ascent for the pleasure of the exten-
sive view from its summit. On the four panels
of the pedestal are inscribed the names and dates
of Lord Nelson's principal victories, and over that
which terminated his career is a sarcophagus.
Highly ornamental as it is to the city, an ex-
pression of good taste, as well as of the generosity
of its citizens, I hardly derived so much pleasure
from it as from a comparatively insignificant and
homelv one in Montreal, to the same o-reat
commander. This last one bore an inscription
couched in the simplest language, and I was deeply
affected as I read the words, so simple that little
urchins in their earliest school years could read and
understand, and thus, perhaps, drink in their first
lesson in patriotism and bravery. And should
not this be the great aim of national monuments,
to inspire the youth of the land? And are not
such plain words as they can comprehend better
calculated to render the great immortal, to make
their actions not only live, but live again in the
future, than the more elaborate style of the nation's
tongue or the scholarly record in a de,ad language?
This latter monument presented on two siilcH the
stories of victories without the loss of a single
British ship ; the third gave the story of his death;
34 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
the fourth expressed the love and admiration of
the people who had erected this monument to his
memory.
Dublin University forms the boundary on one
side of College Green, and is a splendid piece of
architecture ; inside, its walls are adorned with
full-length portraits of eminent men who have
been educated here ; and in its library, at each
pillar, is placed a bust of some distinguished
person ; outside in a little space inclosed with an
iron railing and facing the street, are two statues,
one of Burke, the other of Goldsmith. The
latter stands with pencil in the right hand which
hangs at his side, while his eyes rest on an open
book held in his left. The face bears an ex-
pression exactly corresponding to one's idea of
his character — so simple and so kindly. Poor
Goldsmith ! Little did he think, when a " poor
scholar" of the college, distinguished by the cap
of poverty and obliged to do menial duty, that he
was ever to stand in glory by the side of his more
aristocratic fellow-student, Burke ; little did he
think that the collecre from which he once ran
away, smarting from the sting of unjust disgrace,
was one day to feel itself honored by the presence
of his statue placed before its doors, as if to
beckon genius in future times to enter and drink
from th(t fount that had nurtured an Oliver
("loldsmiih !
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 35
The Old Parliament House is now occupied by
the Bank of Ireland, It is situated in College
Green, its principal front consisting of a colonnade
surrounding three sides of a spacious court. The
columns rest on a broad platform, approached by
steps ; a pediment supported by these columns is
adorned by three statues — Hibernia, Fidelity
and Commerce — placed here since the building
came into the possession of the Bank of Ireland.
The interior of the building has been so altered
as to adapt it to its present use. In one depart-
ment we saw a wonderful little automatical
machine for wei^hinQr o-old. A handful or two
of gold pieces being thrown in, it picks up one
at a time, brings it forward, and, hesitating a
moment, deflects it into one of two receptacles,
according to whether or not it responds to the
legal standard weight; if below, an index hand
on a small dial indicates, at the instant of its
rejection, the exact degree of deficiency. All
such coins are sent to the Bank of England for
re-coinafje.
The former House of Commons is now the
Cash Office. The chamber of the House of Lords
is preserved in its former state, with the exception
of the addition of a marble statue of George III.,
placed here by the Bank Directors. This stands
in front of a railing separating from the rest of the
room the semi-circular space formerly occupied by
36 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
the throne. In the niches on either side of the
room are busts ; one of George IV., the other of
Nelson, with the never-omitted armless sleeve;
the lost eye, however, seems to elude the sculptor's
skill. On opposite sides of the room are two
large pieces of tapestry faded by time ; one
representing the battle of the Boyne, the other
the siege of Derby. The long table and chairs
formerly used by members of this House, are
also preserved here.
As we stood on this spot, how we wished that
our ears might catch one echo of the eloquence
with which Irish patriots have sought to save
their country in the political convulsions of past
years ; of words which will never lose their
thrilling power so long as the human heart
cherishes a love of country — a love of liberty.
Here did Grattan, in the year 1782, on that day
whose sun rose on a nation standing: in silent and
threatening despair, whose sun went down on the
same nation reflecting from its face the light of
content and dignified joy, exclaim, " Ireland is
now a nation ; in that character I hail her, and
bowing to her august presence I say, esto per-
petual " And here, less than a score of years
later, when, deprived of her Parliament, he saw
the threatened death of the nation whose birth he
had hailed, did he utter those final words of adieu,
in which he pledged unswerving faith to the
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 2)7
country which lay shrouded before him, swooning,
but not dead.
Again, another picture arises of a most dramatic
scene once enacted here, the trial of a member of
this House for murder. In the gallery of the hall
selected, a crowd of some seven hundred persons
represent the world of fashion. One part of the
floor is covered with scarlet cloth and appropriated
to the Peeresses and their dauijhters ; these seats
filled, the Peers, wearing their full robes of state,
enter in solemn silence ; now comes the bearer of
the armorial shield of the accused ; behind him
follows the prisoner in deep mourning, with
melancholy air, and eyes fastened to the ground;
next, the executioner, bearing a large hatchet
painted black with the exception of its brightly
polished edge ; the three place themselves at the
bar; over the prisoner's left shoulder hangs his
armorial shield ; on his right, the executioner
holds the axe to his neck with the edge averted,
ready, should judgment be unfavorable, immedi-
ately to turn its shining edge, at once announcing
sentence and fate. The trial begins ; the wit-
nesses are called, first generally, and then by name ;
no one appears ; according to law, the Chancellor
proceeds to put the question ; each Peer rises,
passes slowly before the chair in which the Chan-
cellor is seated, solemnly places his hand upon his
heart, and repeats, " not guilty, upon my honor."
429760
38 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
Finally the Chancellor arises and declares it to
be the opinion of the Peers of Ireland that the
accused is " not guilty." He then breaks his
wand, descends from his chair, and the trial is
ended.
Dublin, Atigust, 1874.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 39
III.
ROUND TOWERS— PORTRUSH— GIANT'S CAUSEWAY.
lE turn our backs on Dublin and our
faces towards "Dalrladi's Coast," pass-
ing on our way within sight of Lough
Neah, Ireland's largest lake. It is twenty miles
long and half as wide, and its waters are said to
possess the power of petrifying wood, and also of
healing, in a few days, ulcers and sores upon the
body. Among the poetic sights dwelling in my
imao;ination had been far-reachinq- fields of flax,
bending with graceful stalk to the breeze, and
lifting delicate petals to the sky to drink in a kin-
dred azure; but of all the unpoetical smells dwelling
in my memory, is that of such fields filling the air
as we traveled through them mile after mile, with
a stench wholly indescribable; as usual, however,
with intolerable odors, the inhabitants console
themselves with the idea that the tainted air is
salubrious. It was the season for pulling the
ripened flax, and this was mostly done by women
and children.
Aeain we see some of the Round Towers of
Ireland, a feature peculiar to this country. Thai
40 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
of Antrim, which we now pass, is eighty feet high ;
about eighteen feet from the top it tapers hke a
sugar-loaf; the circumference at its base is fifty-two
feet, and apparently about thirty-six feet where
it begins to taper. Some dozen feet from the
ground is a door facing the north, with no steps
leading to it, nor any appearance of there ever
having been any. There are loopholes above.
The walls are three feet thick, and the door and
loopholes are arched with hewn stone. Sometimes
these towers are found divided into two or three
stories by horizontal partitions, perforated by an
aperture scarcely large enough to admit of the
passage of a man's body, but there are no apparent
means of ascending from one opening to the
other.
The history of these towers is wholly unknown.
Some suppose them to have been erected as
belfrys; others, but with no reason therefor, look
upon them as monuments of ascetic superstition
like that of Simon Stylite's; others imagine them
depositories of sacred fire. Their Eastern origin
has been suggested by the discovery of two
round towers in Bhangulpore, resembling those
of Ireland, and of which — a striking coincidence —
the Hindoos possess no tradition, although the
Rajahs look upon them as holy. Notwithstanding
that popular belief leans to the religious origin,
sacred use, and extreme antiquity of these towers.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 41
it seems more reasonable to attribute to them no
earlier date than the ninth century, at which time
the Irish began to erect structures of lime and
stone. Perhaps they were built by the Danes as
watch-towers for observino- the movements of the
natives, who afterwards expelled the Danes, and
who may then have used them for some purpose
of their own.
Portrush is our stopping-place for the night,
but let me advise all travelers, in spite of impor-
tunity and the late hour of arrival, to push on
directly some seven miles from here, where there
is a commodious, sunny hotel, which is, moreover,
within five minutes' walk of the great scene of
attraction. Portrush is one of the dreariest places
on earth; there the zenith has visibly descended,
the circle of the horizon contracted, and one feels
as if he had reached the little end of creation.
Built on a peninsula, jutting out a mile into the
ocean towards the Skerries, it is cold and bleak,
the hotels are destitute of warmth and cheerful-
ness, and one shudders at the bathing-houses,
and wonders that in such a cold, wet place they
do not erect drying-houses in their stead. There
is a good beach here and a range of limestone
cliffs; also sand-hills evidently of recent origin.
Some fifty years ago a violent storm swept away
some of the sand, and brought to view the
remains of an ancient town — the ruins of houses,
3
42 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
in which were found domestic utensils, spear-
heads, etc.
We have now reached the most northerly point
of Ireland, and that must be a phlegmatic tempera-
ment indeed whose pulses do not quicken at
approaching the Giants' Causeway, another
wonderful outburst of Nature's power, another
exclamation point in Nature's book, another of
those scenes which but excite the inexhaustible
thirst of man, "growing with what it feeds upon,"
to find, somewhere in the universe, the measure of
his own soul; prompted by the vast to long for
the greater; humbled, yet exalted by the lofty to
what is higher ; softened by the beautiful, to be
more readily impressed by what is still lovelier;
searching in the fountains of deep waters for some
source that shall find its level with the deep,
mysterious impulse of his own being that throbs
in sympathy with the lowest forms of life; scan-
ninof the atoms of inanimate matter, and roaminof
to the farthest bounds of the starry heavens, while
yet he finds not the limits of his own thought.
So we approach to where
" Dark o'er the foam-white waves,
The Giant's pier the war of tein[)ests braves,
A far-projecting, firm, basaltic way
Of chistering cokimns wedged in dense array ;
With sl<ill so Hke, yet so surpassing Art,
With such design, so just in every part,
Tiiat reason pauses — doubtful if it stand
The work of mortal or immortal hand."
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 43
This great masterpiece of Nature can only be
properly viewed from the ocean, and we therefore
embark in a boat, which first takes us into the cave
of Port Coon but a little distance from the shore.
It seems perilous to attempt to effect an entrance
among the dashing waves, whose white foam rises
high on either side of the cave; but once in, we
are overcome by a feeling of a we and helplessness
as we listen to the roar of the waves reverberating
under its symmetrical roof, which narrows and
descends to an outlet much smaller than the one
by which we have entered. We do not at all
envy the Prince Imperial, for whom the cave was
recently lighted by a display of fire-works.
Nature, robed in her own solemnity, speaks to us
in so grand a tone that we feel such interposition
of Art would but throw upon the whole a touch
of frivolitv.
Emerging from the cave, we proceed about
three miles along an undulating coast, rising in
some places to the height of nearly 400 feet. The
coast line presents a grand range of promontories
indented by a series of beautiful semi-circular
bays walled in by abruptly rising sides. One of
these, Spanish Bay, was the scene of the wreck of
some vessels of the Spanish Armada; intending to
attack Dunluce Castle, whose extensive ruins are
seen on an isolated promontory connected to the
mainland by a natural bridge of rock, in the dark-
44 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
ness they mistook another point for it and were
dashed to pieces. We were told that an organ
on board one of the ships has since been
recovered, and is to be seen in Dublin,
The Giants' Causeway consists of three natural
piers extending in a northerly direction into the
ocean ; between the piers are rounded masses of
irregularly prismatic basalt. Rowing along at
such a distance from the coast as to afford a fine
view, we first notice the Giants' Loom, a colonnade
thirty-six feet high ; next we come in sight of the
Giants' Organ, about 120 feet in length and com-
posed of sixty columns, the center ones forty feet
in height, diminishing at either end ; the Organ
is situated midway up the nearly perpendicular
background of a semi-circular bay, and bears a
striking resemblance to the instrument whose
name has been given to it. The Chimney-tops
make the eastern boundarv of the most strikino-
part of this coast ; they are composed of four
massive basaltic columns 315 feet in height ; they
are hexagonal in form and isolated in position.
Near this is the Theatre, an amphitheatre of three
distinct colonnades.
Having gone so far as to gain a view of the
Chimneys, we turn the prow of the boat and
retrace our way to the main Causeway. The sea,
meanwhile, has become rougher ; we look up at
high waves far above our heads, threatening to
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 45
overwhelm us; the skill of the boatmen commands
our admiration. Two of them hurriedly jump to
the landing and we are rowed hastily backward
toward the cove behind us. The trained eyes of
the men enable them to calculate at what point
the wave will break, and they hold the boat just
beyond its power. Observing the waves in the
distance they watch for a greater space between
any two, and avail themselves of the opportunity
to row again towards the landing-point, in time
for one person to jump hurriedly on shore and
run up the causeway, chased by the breaking
wave, while the boat again withdraws to land
another at the next favorable interval. Half over-
come by mingled laughter, fear and sea-sickness,
at last we are all safely deposited on the lower
extremity of the principal causeway; this is about
300 feet in length, making as it slopes upward
from the ocean to the base of the cliff, a gradual
ascent oi 200 feet, and being much wider at its
top than where it emerges into the ocean.
The whole rock formation of Causeways,
Organs, Chimneys, etc., is the same, being com-
posed entirely of columns of stone, fitted so
accurately to each other that the point of a knife
cannot be introduced between them — a solid
structure of pillar united to pillar as close as the
cells of a honev-comb. Some writer has stated
the number of distinct and perfect columns to be
46 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
37,426, not including those that are broken or
scattered. The color of the stone is a dark iron-
gray ; it is extremely compact and fine in texture.
At a short distance each pier presents the appear-
ance of a regular pavement, the columns rising
each but a few inches above the adjoining ones
directly below it. The columns are composed of
articulated joints, the lower convex end of each
fitting into the concave end of the one below it,
thus forming a ball and socket joint ; occasionally
the convexity is reversed. The joints vary from
six to twelve inches in lens^th, and from twelve to
twenty in breadth. Every one of these columns
is a geometrical prism, and we find every form
from a triangle to a nonagon ; as yet, however,
but one triangle has been observed, and the pre-
vailing forms are five, six, or seven-sided figures.
It is only within the last hundred years that
scientific investiration has been turned to this
natural phenomenon, and, incredible as it may
seem, it is nevertheless true that in the eighteenth
century respectable authors confess themselves in
doubt whether it was laid by Him who upholds
the pillars of the universe or was wrought by the
hand of man. Since science has been becoming
popular, the common tongue is fast forgetting to
lisp the old poetic superstitions — mental wild
flowers — gracing with their uncultivated beauty
the rugged wonders of Nature. The mind is
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 47
naturally prompted to inquire into the cause of
so extraordinary a phenomenon, and in the
romantic days of Fable the simple inhabitants of
the coast, seeing its appearance of art and regu-
larity and unable to account for it by any known
operations of Nature, ascribed it to the hands of
giants.
Fin MacCumhal, the great hero of Irish
romance, and whom tradition made to attain the
enormous stature of fifteen cubits, became the
imaginary architect. Enraged at the predatory
invasions of the inhabitants of the Hebrides and
of the northern tribes who had often made the
soil of Erin red with the blood of her children, he
at last resolved to punish the invaders, and to
that end to
" Bridge the ocean for the march of war."
Summoning his army of giants they set to work
to construct a fabric which should span the
horizon and override the thunder and the storm.
They then hewed these columns from quarries on
the shore, |:)olished them, and built of them an
enormous arch, reaching from Dalriadi's coast to
the Isle of Staffa, on Albion's shore.
" Deep in the surge the broad, dense base they spread,
And raised to heaven the massy cohimn's head;
High rose the rock-wove arch, and o'er the flood,
Like Neptune's fane, the pilLared structure stood."
The Scandinavians, terrified at this threatening
sight, called upon Odin, their god, for hel]). The
48 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
gods had built for their own use a bridge between
heaven and earth — the rainbow. Lest the giants
should ascend by it into heaven it was kept
constantly guarded by a porter, Heimdal, born
of nine mothers, whom the gods had endowed
with special qualities for his office. It was im-
possible to surprise him, for he slept more lightly
than a bird, could discover by day or night objects
a hundred leagues distant, while his ear was so
fine that he could hear the grass grow in the
meadow and the wool on the backs of the sheep.
Odin listened to the cries of his worshipers, and
holding the hissing thunder in his hand, descended
and stood on the arch of the rainbow, calling upon
his ministers of wrath. Among the latter was
Loke. the Genius of Evil. He had been over-
come in a conflict with the gods and by them shut
up in an underground cavern where he makes his
abode tremble with his violent rage, terrifying
mortals with the dreadful earthquake. Thus
evoked, Loke and Hela — the Goddess of Death —
set the elements in motion and shook the base of
this stupendous arch^ which disappeared in the
yawning gulfs of ocean. A spell of enchantment
was then cast over the giants, their blood chilled
with terror and their nerves, bones, and limbs,
turned into stone. At midnight, however, their
specters flit around the former scene of their
activity, and at loom and organ pursue their
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 49
former curious toils, while far aloft on some lone
pillar their leader sits delighting himself in the
sight. Two abutments — the one the Giants'
Causeway, the other the caverned shore of Staffa,
known to us as Fingal's Cave — were left standing
as proud memorials of their power, and foreshadow-
ing the skill of the intellectual giants of our day,
who have
Bridged the ocean for the march of peace,
the foundations of whose wired arch, sunk far
below the thunder and the storm, support a bridge
like the many threaded rainbow, upon which
mortals, sending to and fro the liohtninor as their
messenger, shall yet become like i:Tods and their
ministers be angels of life and good.
Ballycastle, Ireland, August, 1874.
50 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
IV.
GLASGOW— EDINBURGH— AYR.
OLLECTING our thouglns and examining
the general impression Ireland has made
upon us, we find the picture carried away
in our minds, to be pervaded with an atmosphere
of sadness enwrapping even her rarer grandeurs,
as well as her choice spots of beauty whose mar-
velous color we shall never forget, and from our
hearts we exclaim as we leave her, " Country of
sadness, farewell!"
The curtain of night falls and we see Ireland
no more. By morning's dawning light we look
upon the " banks o' Clyde,'' along which for
miles the sound of busy hammers fills the air like
the morning song of birds — hammers awakening
the music of that great instrument of harmony —
commerce — whose sounding-board is the ocean,
and the nations of the earth its keys. Suddenly
transported into such a scene, one's spirit expands
with a feeling of pride and glory in the enterprise
of man, and this increases the longer he gazes
upon the seemingly endless avenue of ocean ships
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 51
and steamers in process of construction, through
which he approaches Glasgow, and yet more
when he considers that these monsters, fore-
ordained conquerors of the elements they are to
contend with, will bend like pliant reeds to the
guiding hand of man.
'T is in contrast with Edinburgh, perhaps, that
one gets the most distinct picture of Glasgow.
Glasgow is a sort of " hail-fellow, well-met " city,
and her liveliness and activity impresses one
beyond her buildings, public parks, squares and
monuments, in which she is by no means poor; it
is the life of the place that makes its distinctive
characteristic in one's memory. Edinburgh, on
the contrary, is different enough from Glasgow to
be her antipode ; cold, proud and dignified, it is
herself and not her spirit that is impressed upon
your mind as you gaze upon her ; no movement
of life to spoil the perfect photograph of this city
of stone, this Memnon of cities, grand and calm,
whose morning note of music has been drowned
to the common ear by the overwhelming noise of
modern, commercial cities. There she stands
among Memory's pictures just as I saw her first
and always ; the old town with its exceedingly
tall houses crowded together, and standing on
tip-toe one above the other to get a look down
into the new town with its lower hills and wider
streets. How tiresome I found her stony features,
52 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
unrelieved by shrubbery except in the squares,
most of which are pubhc only to private individuals.
The pavement of the streets, the sidewalks, the
houses, their outer steps, their inner stairways,
their halls — everywhere and all-pervading — the
same gray stone ; I can imagine a sensitive person
becoming crazy from this eternal monotone of
color.
If you want to see the appropriateness of the
Scotch plaid in dress, come to Scotland, whose
general aspect is far from bright, but particularly
to Edinburgh, where the many-colored plaids are
certainly here the most beautiful dress material ;
thus teaching that for effective costume we may
also study the complexion of the sky as well as
that of the individual.
Here was another difference in the two cities ;
in Glasgow I remember nothing of how the people
were dressed, nor of their "shops," except that
the latter were busy enough; while the exceptional
brightness of Edinburgh's windows is quite dis-
tinct.
Again, Glasgow is rich ; Edinburgh is — well, I
will not say poor, because she is noted for being
to a large, I might say to an unfortunate extent,
the residence of people rich enough to do nothing
but enjoy a cultivated leisure. But the first thing
that attracts the stranger's attention is a picturesque
group of columns standing alone on one of her
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 53
principal summits, looking so much like some
ancient ruin that, perhaps, in more than five cases
in ten it is the subject of the first inquiry made by
the stranger, to which inquiry the answer has
become almost proverbial. " Oh, that is the monu-
ment of Edinburgh's poverty." Begun fifty years
ago, and intended to be an exact model of the
Parthenon at Athens, all her money was spent in
erecting the three steps and twelve columns you
now see, and the city has been unable even to
raise money enough to complete the National
Monument. GlasQ^ow has offered to finish it if
Edinburgh will yield to her in return the honor
of being Scotland's capital ; but if the one city is
rich enough the other is proud enough, and will
not sell her birthright or barter her dignity.
Sir Walter Scott's monument in Edinburo-h is
most perfect ; in appropriateness and beauty it is
complete, and one feels that nothing could be
added or taken away without marring it. Of dark
brown stone, in the open arch of its base sits a
marble statue of Scott with his do^- beside him.
The tower is two hundred feet high, while between
base and summit its elaborate carvinfj is inter-
spersed with niches occupied by white marble
figures of the author's principal characters.
From the open ornamental grounds around this
monument, one has a fine view of the old town
and castle of Calton Hill, of the buildings of
54 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
the Royal Institution, etc., and as, thoroughly
impatient at the monotony of the city, I sat
reading one of his books at the Wizard's feet,
I fairly loved him for his sympathy as I came
across this sentence: "Edinburgh, which is a
tolerable residence in Winter and Spring, be-
comes disagreeable in Summer, and in Autumn
is the most miserable sejour that ever poor
mortals were condemned to. No public places
are open, no inhabitant of any consideration
remains in the town; those who cannot get
away hide themselves in obscure corners as if
ashamed to be seen in the streets."
The round trip from Glasgow to Ayr is the
journey of a day, and although a visit to the birth-
place of Burns is a threadbare subject to write or
read about, one makes it with as fresh an interest
as if he had not read a thousand descriptions of
it. The railroad brings us to
"Auld Ayr, wham ne'er a town surpasses
In honest lads and bonnie lasses," —
and in quiet and extreme neatness. Strolling
through its streets, it was quite by accident we
came upon the Tarn O'.Shanter House, which drew
us across the street by its pictured sign, repre-
senting Tam mounted on his gray mare, and
drinking his stirrup-cup previous to setting out
on that eventful ride. This house is said to have
been the principal resort of Burns, in Ayr. Now
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 55
as then, a public house, we enter and examine its
dingy little rooms with table in the center, settees
around, and all the walls hung with cheap
engravings of Burns. A dark, narrow stairway
leads up to a room somewhat larger than the
others, called the " Burns room ;" here are framed
manuscripts, some better pictures and a bust, and
we are told, what we have as much reason to
believe as to doubt — for such a haunt he surely
had in Ayr- — ^that it was by that very ingle Burns
used to sit with his companions, in the very chairs
before us, two of which bear inscriptions in brass
plates to that effect. The party occupying the
room as we enter, immediately welcome us like
old friends, for the name of Burns is the open
sesame to ev^ery Scotchman's heart ; they will
accept no refusal ; we must each take a draught
of Scotch ale from the Burns Cup, a wooden cup
— preserved with silver bands so worn as to have
been twice renewed — that has been handed down
from his time. Inspired with the spot, the name,
the associations and the surroundings, it is with
fervid feeling, and tears in one pair of eyes at
least, that the circle stand around the table, and
drink to the memory of Robert Burns.
Alloway is three miles beyond Ayr ; there
stands the cottage birth-place of the poet, near
which is Kirk Alloway, a little ruin insignificant in
itself, whose belfry alone bespeaks its former
56 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
churchhood. Our driver voluntarily points out
the windowsill —
" The winnock bunker in the east,
Where sat auld Nick in shape of beast."
A little beyond we come to the Burns Monu-
ment. Its triangular base is surmounted by a
dome supported by Corinthian columns, and
crowned by a lyre and wine-cup. An apartment
within contains mementos of the poet, and among
his books is the Bible given to his Highland
Mary when, as the story goes, the lovers stood on
opposite sides of a brook, dipped their hands in
its running water and, holding a Bible between
them, there vowed eternal fidelity to each other.
They never met again. On the blank leaf of this
Bible is written, " Thou shalt not forswear thyself,
but shalt perform unto the Lord thine oaths."
Near by is an edifice erected for the group of
statuary— Tam O'Shanter and Souter Johnny.
The figures are in stone, life-size or larger, and
there is a very fitting harmony in this most appro-
priate monument to the Poet of the people, being
the original design and work of an obscure
Ayrshire stone-mason. With faces turned toward
each other there sit, "drinking divinely," the two
"ancient, trusty, drouthy cronies." The chisel
has been very faithful to the minutiae of their dress,
and you can distinguish the stitches in the long-
seamed stockings of the one who, with glass
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 57
half-raised to his wide-open mouth, is evidently
laug^hing heartily ; the other has rested his tankard
upon his knee, and is looking at the former with
a smile as if he really "lo'ed him like a vera
brither." It is a perfect picture of jolly pleasure,
at which "Care, mad to see men sae happy," might
well indeed drown himself
We pass out from here, and stand on the " Brig
o' Doon," and a very tender feeling creeps over
us as we silently gaze at the "bonnie Doon," "its
banks and braes and flowering thorn," and drink
in the simple beauty of the scene, bathed by the
poet's song in double loveliness; and then our eyes
stray to the neighboring open fields, and imagina-
tion conjures up the scene of the Burns' festival,
when eighty thousand voices joined, and filled the
air around with such songs as "Ye Banks and
Braes" and "Auld Lang Syne."
Not to introduce the topic of Burns with his
country-men, your traveling companions as you
journey through Scotland, is to lose one-half the
enjoyment of a Scottish tour, and the enthusiasm,
especially of the comparatively illiterate, increases
your own appreciation of him. Proud as they can
be of Scott, Burns they love with all their heart.
Ayr, Scotland, Scptejnder, 1874.
58 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
V.
LONDON— ROYAL INSTITUTE.
SHALL never be satisfied with my
arrival in London. I had known for years
just how it ought to be done, and that it
could be done in no other way. I was to arrive
in the midst of a crowd little less than a mob;
between car and carriage to be repeatedly separated
from my companions. I was to guard myself
from robbery; the sound of many voices was to
drown my own. I mentally prepare for all this as
we almost fly through the air from Warwickshire
to London, knowing I should be made aware of
our near approach by the seemingly long ride
through such an underground tunnel as had thus
far led us into every large city of Scotland and
England. We have reached no such tunnel when
the train stops in a large, quiet station; the
conductor opens the door of our railway carriage
for us to alight, but I tell him "we are going on to
London." "This is London, and the train goes
no further." It is quiet enough for a suburban
station ; unaccosted by any one, we seek for and
find a store-room for our baggage, and then pass
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 59
outside of the depot, and, importuned by no
cabman, select one of the carriages waiting for
"a fare;" no hotel-runners, no hotel-coaches — for
all we hear, no hotels in London; no crowding,
no robbinor no clamour of voices.
The city, too, disappoints in the earliest days of
our acquaintance with it. I had imagined a
turbulent stream, of life, threatening to carry the
stranger quite off his feet; that everywhere were
striking contrasts between palace and dwelling of
poverty; that the excitement of an American city
was to be multiplied by this immense population.
On the contrary, we are impressed with the quiet
order and the comparative uniformity of building;
full as the principal streets are, no one seems
excited, but instead, intensity of life here finds
expression in earnestness of air and countenance
in young and old.
The first thinof for an American to do here
is to acquire the language. You find yourself
wondering what the waiter is saying; three times
you ask the shopman what he is saying; and then
answer at random; even to the public lecturer you
must listen more closely than at home. You soon
acquire a tolerable proficiency in your grandmother
tongue, although after many weeks you may
hesitate when the tradesman asks you if you will
"avanolun," before guessing that he means "have
a whole one."
6o LETTERS OF TRAVEL,
Next in importance to learning the language is
the learning to live without breathing, and this is
the more difficult task of the two — especially for
the traveler from our own bracing atmosphere,
and who, between here and there has felt but
ocean breath and mountain breeze. There is no
air in London, and I do n't know what name ought
to be given to the vile compound that takes its
place. On my first arrival, waking up several
nights and finding myself distressed as if with
asthma, and recognizing the source of this distress
to be in the atmosphere, I thought it prudent to
begin to make calculations in regard to the prob-
able length of my life, and to this end began
reading the dailv list of deaths. F'or a time I was
extremely puzzled to find such a very large
proportion of them raging between seventy and
ninety years, but at last all became clear to me ;
these people had died years and years before, but
nobody had found it out, for this simple reason,
that, there being no air, nobody can breathe here,
and consequently one great symptom of death —
cessation of breath — is wanting. I have a neigh-
bor opposite whoni I have been watching for
some weeks, and who I know must have been
dead for a long w^hile ; once or twice a day I see
her bent fifjure as she looks out from between the
dingy red curtains of the dingy windows of her
dingy house into the dingy atmosphere ; her
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 6 1
inanimate face has such an air of dingy monotony,
the conceit has come into my mind that, conscious
of her demise, as yet undiscovered by others, she
is peering from her window to hail a hearse should
one chance to pass.
Speaking of hearses reminds me of something
in London which looks very funny to me: boys
stealinof a ride bv " hanoinq; on behind" the
carriages of a funeral procession ; I believe I have
yet to see them hanging on behind the hearse.
In Drury Lane, for the most part the home of
poverty, I one night saw a hearse before a house,
in attendance on an evening funeral! What could
be gloomier!
To the new-comer London is indeed an elephant
on his hands; it is a closed volumne with the title
''What will he do with it ?" He turns to its table
of contents and soon his eye falls, with a feeling
of family pride, upon that long list of names of
those who, England's crown of glory beyond any
warriors to whom she ever gave birth, stand in
the front ranks of the army that wars with
ignorance and spread a halo of light and of promise
upon the whole human race. At first we think
we must see them all ; but we soon begin to think
we '11 see whom we can get to see, for it seems
that great men are not like pearls, whose luster,
as I have read, depends upon exposure to the
common air and common sunshine. Spurgeon
62 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
can always be found (when he has n't the gout) at
his Tabernacle ; Tennyson hides from all the
world, mysterious as his wonderful power of song;
Huxley and Tyndall it is very difficult to get a
chance to hear speak. At last we say, we '11 hope
to hear them by attending the " Lectures to
Workingmen," and are informed that no one but
the workingman is admitted. As the difficulty
increases we become more anxious to hear these
latter, and hear them soon, Tyndall who is to
deliver a course of lectures on electricity before
the Royal Institute, also gives the opening lecture
of the Friday evening course, open only to mem-
bers and invited guests ; by happy chance we fall
among the latter number.
Althouofh we have arrived an hour before the
lecture, and a few minutes before the doors are
opened, the halls and stairs are already crowded.
We are fortunate enough to reach a front seat in
the gallery, where we have a fine view of the
theatre. (A lecture-room here is called a theatre,
and a circus is the end of an omnibus route). We
are not sufficiently acquainted to recognize many
of the distinguished men in the audience ; but
there is Professor Gladstone, with one of the most
smiling and pleasant faces in the world ; he has
just concluded the delivery in this hall of a
Christmas course, suited to juveniles, on the Voltaic
battery ; he evidently succeeded in interesting his
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 63
youthful audience not only by his learning but by
his love of them. There is Mr. Spottiswoode, a
man who has for years been at the head of the
largest printing establishment in London ; science
is the amusement of his leisure hours, which
cannot be many, yet by his recreations he has
arrived at the hi^rhest scientific honors which his
country can bestow ; he is an F, R. S. and Sec-
retary of the Royal Society of Great Britain.
Yonder is Sir John Lubbock, a naturalist and an
M. P., of whom a newspaper opposed to him in
politics, in noticing a recent lecture of his on
" Wild Flowers and Insects," thought it very well
for him to go " where the wild thyme grows."
Just behind the President's chair is Sir Thomas
Watson, a man whose baronetcy was conferred
upon him as an honorable recognition of his con-
quests in the field of medical science. Among
the standing crowd is Liebreich, a German oculist
of some renown here, with so singular a face that
at first sight it almost startles you ; I do n't know
how Heinrich Heine looked, but he ought to have
looked like this man ; small, with long black hair
partly concealing a face of deathly pallor in
repose, which, weird and unnatural, you hardly
know whether to recognize as a picture of dissipa-
tion or of genius; as he converses for a moment
his face lights up with a tinge of yellowish color.
We turn our attention to the ladies ; it is a very
64 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
fashionable audience and a full-dress affair. There
are white tarlatans and blue, white silks and light
silks of every color, velvets and satins, and the
beautiful heads of hair, and calm, undisturbed
expression characteristic of English women. None
of them are known to me, but I recognize in their
midst an unlucky friend of mine who, with her
usual happy way of hitting the right thing, has
made her appearance in a rainy-day street suit
We have finished our survey of the audience ;
the clock points to the hour of nine, and we turn
all our attention to the door through which
Professor Tyndall is to enter. Our first glance
at him instantaneously awakens the thought, that
for such a wiry form, climbing the Alps must be
a comparatively easy matter ; rather tall, his
height is increased by the slightness of his figure ;
of light complexion and somewhat gray, to me
his face does not bespeak the student ; at least,
not the student of books — the recluse of the
library; its quick and animated expression indicates
rather, one whose perceptive powers are keenly
alive, ever on the qui vive, so that his quick
intellect would grasp many a truth that would
longer escape greater minds unendowed with
equally active perceptions. In lecturing he is
earnest, speaking rather quickly ; apparently it
would be impossible for him to do anything slowly ;
he is evidently anxious, very anxious, to carry his
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 65
audience undersiandingly along with him, and
you can hardly conceive how so learned a man
can have such perfect sympathy with the disad-
vantage under which a comparatively unscientific
assembly labors.
His subject to-night was "Some Acoustical
Problems." He introduced his lecture by speak-
ing of the importance of giving lo ideas, which
according to Locke, are mental images, a physical
basis ; and that by such means uneducated
audiences can receive very clear ideas of subjects
difficult to comprehend. As he was to speak on
the heterogeneous composition of the atmosphere
around us, and of layers or strata of heated air,
he would give a physical basis — a representation
to the sense of sight — of the phenomena with
which his discourse was to deal. By means of
an electric light throwing upon a white screen
shadows of the things illustrated, we were able to
see the carbonic acid gas, which he poured out
from a glass jar ; he then blew sulphuric ether
through a tube, and we saw it spreading through
the atmosphere ; we also saw the heated air
around the blaze of a candle. He wished to show
that sound is reflected, or echoed, by being
thrown against, or into, an atmosphere heteroge-
neous in composition, or containing air-strata of
different temperatures, and that such invisible
components of the atmosphere and such walls or
66 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
Strata had more power to interrupt the progress
of and reflect sound than many opaque and
visible substances. A blaze is susceptible to
sound, and by increasing the pressure upon the
gas, Professor Tyndall was able to make the
flame at a gas-burner so sensitive that when
he chirruped to it, it would answer with a
corresponding flicker; he then made it still more
sensitive, so that it gave a continued flicker,
responsive to the ticking of a watch placed
within a foot or two of it. He therefore in his
experiments made use of the flames from two gas-
burners, to represent the ear or the power of
hearing. At each corner of the front part of his
table was a gas-light, and, as the sensitive point
of a flame is at the orifice where the gas issues
from the burner, a glass tunnel was affixed to the
burner, so that the rays of sound were thus made
to converge upon this sensitive point.
On a third corner of the table, and near him,
was a reed played upon by a bellows ; from the
reed the sound was projected through a tube ; the
tube was pointed at the further light diagonally
opposite to it, and (the flame, of course, being
made extra sensitive by pressure) when no sub-
stance intervened to interrupt the sound, the
sound would set this further blaze into violent
vibration ; but when a substance impenetrable to
sound intervened, that blaze would remain per-
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 6/
fectly still, while the other blaze, at the opposite
end of the table, and behind the open end of the
tube from which the sound issued, would vibrate
with a violence corresponding to the degree of
impenetrability of the interrupting substance.
Now followed experiments on impenetrability
to sound. Substances impervious to light often
did not interrupt the sound wave ; screens of
calico held some inches apart, and added one
after the other, arrested the sound by degrees,
but not completely ; a handkerchief folded many
times together allowed the sound to pass through
it, but when the handkerchief was wet and its
interstices thus filled with water, it became an
impenetrable wall, entirely arresting the sound ;
one thickness of oiled silk was much more imper-
vious to sound than a piece of felt half an inch
thick.
The continuity of sound depended not upon the
thickness, but upon the density of the intervening
screen. A thin invisible sheet of heated air rising
from a single gas-burner held below, had more
power to arrest the sound than a visible screen of
many thicknesses of cloth. The arresting power
of a number of streams of heated oras alonof the
course of the sound-wave was shown ; and car-
bonic acid gas, also sulphuric ether, mixed with
aqueous vapor, all reflected or echoed the sound
as could be seen by the flaring of one or the other
68 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
blaze, according as the sound was uninterrupted
by any screen, or was reflected by one or more
screens.
Professor Tyndall then went on to say, that he
was working towards a problem, long an enigma
to scientific men. In 1822 a commission, of
which Arago and other celebrities were members,
was appointed to make experiments in regard to
the velocity of sound ; in the month of June, in
the same year, they proceeded to Villejeuf and
Montlhery in France ; between these two places
the flash of cannons could be distinctly seen at
each place from the other; but while every cannon
fired at Montlhery, which was farther from Paris,
could be heard at Villejeuf, only one report in
twelve at the latter place could be heard at
Montlhery, although the direction of the wind
was favorable. This he explained by the nearer
situation of Villejeuf to Paris, so that it was
enveloped in an atmosphere of impurities and
gases floating out to it from Paris and enveloping
it in a heterogeneous atmosphere, which formed
an acoustic cloud around it, impenetrable to the
sound-wave proceeding from the cannon ; and no
echo was perceived, because the sound was thrown
back so soon that the echo was united with the
original sound. Sometimes we hear no echo,
because the sound is wliolly dissipated before it
meets with any reflecting body. As a rule, the
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 69
distance which sound has penetrated may be
measured by the length of the echo. In con-
ckicHng this cHscourse, Professor Tyndall said :
"No fact stands alone, no brick is left unaccounted
for in the Temple of Science, which is but a
handful in that greater temple built by a Power
unscanned and unfathomable."
JO LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
VI.
CLIMATE— MEN AND WOMEN.
^'AZING with the stranger's curiosity at one
of the London prisons, an Englishman
sitting next to me, who Hke all the rest of
them, had learned to recognize an American at
first sight, politely replied to my questioning look
by telling me the name and purpose of the
building, and in continuance remarked, " I suppose
the public conveyances of your cities are far supe-
rior to ours?" "They are indeed so," was my
reply, "and I never get into one of your uncom-
fortable omnibuses without wondering that you
put up with such awkward and miserable things."
"To tell the truth, we are rather proud of our
inconveniences," he pleasantly replied, and that
one remark, half-jest and half-earnest, has been a
key to many things in London.
The philanthropy of the Baroness Burdett-
Coutts leads her to recommend, as an aid in the
daily repeated modern miracle of feeding the
multitude in London, the cultivating of the goat
for milk and flesh, and a newspaper noticing this,
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 7 1
says, " The recommendation has everything in its
favor save and except only that it is not of the
slightest use to preach to Englishmen about getting
out of the old grooves and occasionally adopting
an economical notion from abroad."
In this respect, I might say in this respect {7«/j',
is the Englishman the exact opposite of the
American. In our pursuit of the better we turn
to every novelty, more or less discontented with
whatever we have ; the Englishman is, above all
things in the world, contented ; what he already
has is good enough for him, and if by chance he
adopts some innovation, he does not think
" 'T is well to be off with the old love
Before he is on with the new,"
but weds himself to both. The very entrance to
every English home proclaims this English senti-
ment, for somehow the more modern door-bell
has crept into use, but the old-fashioned knocker
is found on every door, with the inscription " ring
also." At first this looked very foolish to me ; if
one must ring, why stop to knock first ? But the
Englishman has time enouo^h for both; he hesi-
tates at what is novel, and asks a dozen times,
"Why should I ?" but is slow to stop before the
long-established and ask, " Why should I not?"
Besides, were it otherwise, you and I and all
strangers would lose the pleasure of listening to
the postman's peculiar double knock, to the
72 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
approaching sound of which one so soon learns
to turn a hopeful ear.
In short, considering the race to which both
Englishmen and Americans belong, it would
seem that originally one prominent characteristic
was constancy, but by the process of adaptation
to the conditions of life in the New World this
organ has become so changed as to be hardly
recocrnized ; the American An^lo-Saxon is still
constant, but, as the poet has it, "constant to a
constant change."
London is not cheerful ; by day you see your-
self shut in between walls discolored by smoke
and soot, which Dickens poetically calls the
" London ivy," a metaphor well appreciated by
any one who has seen the black soot clinging to
everything, and mantling the whole city in its
drapery ; by night the Englishman drops the
thick folds of his curtains, and you wander through
the streets longing for cheerful windows hinting
at social firesides. Thus by night and by day,
London, in Winter especially, is superlatively
gloomy, and I was struck by the remark of an
Englishman, who asserted that the Londoner is
indebted to his imagination alone for whatever
beauty of nature he talks about; "he imagines,"
said he, "that he has seen the blue-eyed maiden,
Spring, in her robes of delicate green," but abso-
lutely and in point of fact, he has never seen
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. J T^
either the blue of the sky or the verdure of the
leaf.
To know how dark London is one must have
Hved elsewhere, and I fully appreciated the words
of Mr. Wood, who, lecturing on his own excava-
tions at Ephesus and the discovery of the Temple
of Diana, pointed out in his diagram the emblem
of the sun, found carved on a stone pillar, adding
that Londoners might be glad to see something
like the sun, even were it nothing but its graven
image. Emerson quotes a witticism describing
London light to be in fair weather like looking
up a chimney, and in foul weather like looking
down it. I think the chimney has not been
swept since the remark was first made.
It is astonishing to hear residents long here
complain of the severe cold of Winter. I have
seen the streets whitened but once with snow,
and but one morning has there been the least
sign of frost upon the windows. Comparing such
a temperature with our own northern latitudes,
Atlantic and even Pacific, the facts seem incred-
ible ; there are various reasons offered for this
phenomenon, but it is most satisfactory to look for
the cause in the development of latent heat,
produced by the condensation from vapor of the
almost continuously falling rain. We are just
now having a little rainstorm which began on my
arrival six months ago. Good old Noah became
74 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
discouraged and packed his Saratoga trunk at the
prospect of a six weeks' rain, but we are more
patient than Noah.
London is a wearying place, not alone from its
immense distances which you are unwittingly
beguiled into walking, but still more from its
interesting spots and associations ; it seems that
the most common names have a meaning, if you
can but ferret it out, and with every corner you
turn, you turn the leaf to some new story of
history or biography. London alone seems
sufficient to have placed the English at the head
of the intellectual world, for one has here but to
open eye and ear, and enough enlightenment will
flow in to drown io-norance, even thouo-h the
intellect be not deeply stirred.
It is as if the curious mind had but to ask
questions in regard to mere local names in London
and thereby will be acquired a fair knowledge of
English history ; for instance, in our neighborhood
is the Soho Bazaar, a series of shops extending
within the buildings between Oxford Street and
Soho Square ; the name has a novel ring in your
ear, and some one will tell you that the Square
was formerly the residence of the Duke of Mon-
mouth, the illegitimate son of Charles II., who,
trying to wrest the crown from James, was
condemned to be executed — and when you see
his face in the portrait gallery of Kensington
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 75
Museum, you will exclaim, "What a pity to cut
off such a handsome head!" This same Duke, a
oreat favorite with the people, was supposed by
some to have escaped, that another suffered in his
stead, and that he was the mysterious Iron Mask
of the Castle of Pigneral and of the Bastile.
The war cry of his followers was "Soho," hence
the name of the Square where he resided.
In less than ten minutes' walk from Soho
Square, you come to Lincoln's Inn Fields, and
with this well-known name you link the story
(true or not) of Ben Johnson, who, forced by his
step-father to lay bricks at the building of Lincoln's
Inn, worked with a trowel in one hand and his
Horace in the other. Not far away, in Gerrard
Street, you come upon a house bearing an inscrip-
tion stating that it was once the residence of the
Poet Dryden.
Taking the wrong omnibus, I found myself
one night near Temple Bar, instead of where I
meant to be ; my nearest way home was through
Chancery Lane, and quite a romance I made of
that walk. I had lately been reading a sketch
of Coleridge ; disappointed, in spite of his rep-
utation for talent, in attaining college honors, in a
fit of despondency and embarrassed with debts
he left the University at Cambridge and came up
to London, where he took the best lodgings he
could aftord — some door-steps in Chancery Lane.
76 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
The place was comparatively lonely as I walked
through it, and as things seldom change here, I
had only to add to the actual scene around me
the picture of the despondent youth lurking in the
shadows of the door-ways that I passed by, and
to imagine the mental state which such a situation
must induce in a sensitive, poetic nature.
On the same evening I had dropped in, towards
the close of evening services, at one of the City
churches built by Christopher Wren. The silent
language of a sixpence induced the sexton to
delay closing the house while I observed its
beauty. A very large, square pew, with its doors
bearing coat-of-arms, and one of its seats forming
an arm-chair with a high back surmounted by an
iron rod terminating in a crown, proved to be a
pew set apart for the occasional presence of the
Lord Mayor. He always attends here once a
year — on St. Michaelmas Day — when he wears
his full robes of state, and is accompanied by his
Sheriffs, Mace-bearer, Sword-bearer, etc. His
principal attendants are seated with him in the
pew, while his numerous retinue fills the aisle.
London seems to be at the head of the world
in regard to the freedom in which unaccompanied
women can traverse its streets at nisfht. ThrouQfh
lanes and dirty alleys, through lonely streets and
crowded thoroughfares, a woman passes unmo-
lested and unremarked. I remember crossing
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. ^']
one night at about ten o'clock the somewhat
notorious place called the Seven Dials, and
stopping to examine the spot before I discovered
its name. It is a regular shaped space, from
which diverge seven streets, alternating in their
divergence with the ends of seven radiating rows
of houses, uniform in width with the streets; a
gas light in its center illumines the space.
The police are a very fine-looking set of men,
always obliging and courteous ; even old residents
are obliged to ask the way of them. The only
shade of rudeness I have ever known in them
was directed to myself one day when asking the
way to Holborn, and to the question, "What part
of Holborn.^" I replied " Bloomsbury." "Why
don't you ask the way to Bloomsbury, then?"
was the rather gruff retort, to which my answer,
" Because I did n't know enough to do so,"
seemed quite satisfactory to him.
. The safety of pedestrians among so many
horses is also remarkable. In six months I have
never seen or heard of a runaway team, and the
cabs also number more than ten thousand.
I spent some time trying to find the street
railroad horse-cars, and when I did find them,
they neither traversed the streets nor were drawn
by horses. The Metropolitan Railway, which
here serves the purpose of our street car. has
a circuitous and extensive underground track
78 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
beneath the city ; the propelling- power is steam,
and the stations, between which of course one
cannot stop, are conveniently frequent ; one
travels in this way at great speed, and without its
aid London could never accomplish its day's work.
There is also one line of street-cars like ours,
coming into the city from the direction of Stoke
Newington, part of the metropolis.
I had always imagined railroad travel in this
staid and well-regulated country to be compara-
tively without risk, but the winter's record of
accidents has quite undeceived me ; so great has
the number been that one abroad would hardlv
believe the figures ; but when one sees — espec-
ially when from one end of the kingdom to the
other one has been confused by — the numerous
roads, and considers the immense amount of traffic,
frequent disasters begin to appear unavoidable.
As I went yesterday from here to the Crystal
Palace, a distance of some seven miles, it was
wonderful to see the lines and lines of rails
running on either side in parallel or intersecting
lines. One place is named " the network," and
did not travelers learn to put more faith in rail-
road officials than they usually do in Providence,
it would be quite terrifying to cross here ; several
times there were four or five trains very near
together, reminding one, as they dodged each
other, of skillful skaters on ice.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 79
There is a popular movement now to open on
Sundays the museums and Hke places. A mass-
meeting was held with that intent at one of the
theatres on Ash Wednesday, on which day the
drama is prohibited. The strongest plea advanced
is that the people will thus be won from drinking
saloons or "pubs" (public houses). One lady
spoke, her principal argument being that it was
impossible to induce the people to give up any
enjoyment without offering another in its stead.
At first it looked rather strange to me to see
women frequenting bar-rooms with the same free-
dom as men. I do not think thev linger so long-
to tell stories as the other sex, but they stop in
wherever they choose and call for whatever they
like, and perhaps leisurely enjoy it with a cracker—
or biscuit, as we say here. I do not know whether
or not they have exerted any refining influence
on these places. I have seert very respectable-
looking women on their way from church,
prayer-book in hand, entering or standing at the
bar drinking. In hiring servants here one always
bargains either to furnish them with a certain
amount of beer daily, or to pay them a certain
sum as " beer-money."
Of course I have found my own pleasure in
scrutinizing the people as well as their habits and
surroundings. I have always heard of the fine
complexion of English ladies, and their active
8o LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
out-door life as its cause; I believe, indeed, in the
former, which is absolutely lovely, but not in the
latter, for I have found the English woman less
active than her American sister ; walking-tours
once a year are fashionable (I have even met
ladies who have tried it), but I am sure that in
London both men and women drive more and
walk less than we do. Their good health first
creates the complexion, which the climate pre-
serves, keeping the skin soft by its moisture, and
leaving it unirritated by winds and unburnt by
the sun. The climate is also evidently favorable
to the growth of the hair ; throughout Great
Britain the beautiful hair of the women charms
you, and we cannot doubt that this has always
been the case, since we read that the beautiful
hair of the English captives carried hundreds of
years ago to Rome, was much admired. I
do not, however, find the features of the face as
fine as on our continent ; neither is their physique
equal to our ideal of it. I have many times
seen astonishingly tall women, but as a whole
they look no taller than ourselves ; the women,
however, are usually far too stout to have grace of
figure, while many of the men are remarkable for
their thinness. I have certainly seen a greater
proportion of spindle-legged men in the streets of
London than in any other city ; it would seem
that somehow their lower limbs had melted and
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 8 1
run down into their shoes, there spreading out
into such enormous feet that it becomes quite an
art to walk the streets without being trod upon.
I have no doubt that what we call English reserve
is the mere habit, not of keeping people at an
unsocial distance, but of avoiding their feet.
The English language is said to be lately
enriched by a new word. A certain Mrs. Podgers
is continually in trouble with cabmen and sum-
moning them before courts of justice. The lady
has become so well known in court-circles and
cab-circles that the verb " to podger" is somewhat
generally adopted, and a dishonest cabman will
put on the cloak of honesty if one threatens to
"podger" him. Perhaps future etymologists are
to puzzle their brains in vain over the origin of
this new word. By-the-way, the cabmen of
London have no enviable berth. They pay
something over three dollars per day for their
team, and are allowed to charge but one shilling
for the first mile and sixpence per mile for
additional distance. As many passengers may
ride for that one shilling as can seat themselves
in the conveyance ; at least four can ride in a
four-wheeled cab. The law does not permit a
cabman to refuse to take a " fare " wherever he
wants to go ; should he refuse, from the lateness
of the hour or other causes, your redress is to
" podger" him.
London, November, 1874.
8:
LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
VII.
LETTER TO A FRIEND.
E have to-day had our second fog, and
I am quite unfitted by it for anything,
especially letter-writing. It has given
both D. and myself a sick headache and my eyes
burn like coals of fire and are weighed down with
heaviness. The morning, between eight and nine
o'clock, was about as usual, but instead of growing
lighter as it generally does, it soon became so
obscure that we could only read comfortably by
sitting quite near the window and also selecting
large print. At twelve o'clock we were obliged to
give up reading altogether, and at one o'clock the
house was so pervaded with the smoke that half-
way across our sitting-room we could not clearly
discern each other's faces nor the color of each
other's clothing. There was no moisture in the
air, nor any deposited on door-steps or side-walk.
Since three o'clock it has been gradually lessening.
I find London like an old curiosity shop,
wherein one wanders about in a peculiar state of
enjoyment, where things familiar to the imagina-
tion are constantly arising in reality before him,
LETTERS. OF TRAVEL. 83
and he seems to be unravelling the web which
the record of Enfrlish literature has woven in his
mind. I am so ridiculously romantic— I suppose
you will say — that just the sight of the name of
some street thrills me through and through, and
dull and uninteresting as its mere aspect actually
may be, and usually is, some story of the past, of
reality or fiction, in clearer or fainter outline,
changes its aspect to one of rare interest, and its
atmosphere reflects into the mind the light of
mental associations, so that I roam about here,
day after day, in a sort of trance, in which the
visions of the fancy arise clothed in reality.
I do not care so much for the fine avenues and
parks of London as for its memorable nooks and
by-ways, and my great delight has been to stroll
about, and when I saw some mysterious or forbid-
ding-looking passage, to turn my steps into it;
and such are, or have been in my case, the most
frequent entrance to some old traditional land-
mark. So I found my way one afternoon into
the Temple Gardens, through arched passages
leadinof from one court to another, where the
buildings on every side had each its own sun-dial
with Latin motto, and finally coming out into the
pleasant gardens, lying there in the quiet October
sunshine as peaceful and still as if the fevered
pulse of London's heart could not be felt in one
of its chief arteries, at but a few rods' distance.
84 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
Another time, being in the City, I turned into
a narrow street — Bread Street, which, by the way,
is not far from Milk Street — and my eye happened
to catch on the corner of a dingy-looking church
a few lines of poetry,, and under that an inscription
saying that was the street in which Milton was
born, and that in this church he was baptized.
The churches here are, too, a rare study, and
even a sinner mio-ht not find an occasional hour
in them amiss. At the Italian church, where we
are to go the first fine Sunday evening, the music
is rendered by a full band. The interior of some
of the churches is quite in harmony with the use
to which they are dedicated. Others are so
theatrical in their style of architecture that one
wonders if they were not built to be sold to the
highest bidder, whether he might be an agent
of the church or an agent of the drama, equally
adapted to either use.
1 have not yet made acquaintance with many
of the interesting monuments of London, on
account of a severe cold, unfavorably aftected by
the dampness of these large stone edifices,
although, of course, I were no American had I
not first and earliest offered the pilgrim's homage
to the shrines of St. Paul's and Westminster.
It would seem from those I have visited, and
others I have heard of, that you can hardly locate
yourself here without being at a convenient near-
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 85
ness to some large public library ; but at any rate
there are many, and many that are free. We are
within three minutes' walk of the British Museum,
and I think access to it one of the greatest treats
of life. If I go there in the morning to read a
while, I am sure to remain all day, and then feel
almost impatient at the early closing in of the
darkness.
We amused ourselves several evenings by
visiting the meetings of a Co-operative Society
in our neighborhood, and we found instruction,
entertainment and amusement. One evenins" a
very intelligent man, a spiritualist, made some
remarks about compound consciousness. A rather
illiterate brother member soon after made some
remarks, in which he acknowledwd he knew
nothing of the gendeman's "confounded con-
sciousness."
Then there are so many lectures given by
eminent men — either free or at a mere nominal
price — that one's only difficulty is to choose
between them, and when one has been, he hardly
knows whether he is more pleased with the lecture
or disgusted with the uncomfortable seats, which
are very often narrow, uncushioned benches with-
out backs.
The tone of the press here is very unfair, I
think, toward our country, and the general
feeling among the people at large is far less
86 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
friendly than ours to the EngHsh. They do not
understand that if what they say is true, and there
may be some truth in it, that there is nothing we
would like better than to have a little brush with
them and give them a whipping, that the feeling
with which we would do it would be quite
fraternal, and would rather redound to the family
honor. But they do not give us credit for the
good-will with which the same fraternal feeling
would make us stand by them, should the hour of
need fall upon them. Then, too, they are con-
tinually pointing to our press and exclaiming,
" See there, what a wicked country yours is!"
while, really, in reading their papers, the only
difference I can see is that they omit the sensa-
tional headings, and print their worst crimes in
the smallest type.
I hardly know how to express to you the
feeling I have toward this metropolis — it is such
a rich, rare, quaint old place, such a store-house
for the enjoyment of antiquarian taste, such an
intellectual reservoir for the refreshment of the
garden of your thoughts, that tor my own part,
I feel that when I leave it all my life will be
sensible of a want before unknown ; while on the
other hand, I am so oppressed by the dim light
that it is like an actual weight upon me — as if
the skies were about to fall and crush me — every-
thing is dull, dingy and dreary — and were I to
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 8/
make a home here I should want my walls hung-
with paper covered with tiger-lilies, dahlias,
hollyhocks and sun-fiowers ; I would dress my
husband in scarlet and myself in bright yellow,
to throw around us something to remind us of the
sunset glow and golden sunlight; and when it is
unusually dusky and dim, I sometimes find myself
wondering that the inhabitants do not migrate in
a body to some clime where the sky is blue, and
build up another London.
London, December, 1874.
88 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
VIII.
ST. PAUL'S— WESTMINSTER ABBEY.
^'RAND old London, who teaches us mod-
erns — idolaters of the Future — to bow in
worshipful reverence to the Past ! Lon-
don has ancient monumental treasure enough for
a whole world. Enter her Tower, and Time
unrolls for you her scroll of eight hundred years ;
its walls are alive with history ; your heart
quickens its throbbings at this thrilling scene,
shudders at that, and stands still in horror at
another ; and while you read the story of a
thousand years' vibrations from one extreme of
passion to another, you can but do homage to
the nation whose power is written in such terrible
lines- of alternate blood and splendor. The
Tower is an altar — a heathen altar, perhaps — to
the national power of England.
From the Tower to the Cathedral of St. Paul —
from one altar to another ; St. Paul's grasps you
with its giant hand and will not let you go. How
I have wandered around its outer walls, repeating
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 89
again and again its circuit ; how I have lingered
and gazed, and turned from it but to turn and
gaze again, held as by some irresistible law of
gravitation ; how I have watched the rude play
of boys and girls on its steps, and wondered at
such a play-ground; how I have wandered through
its spacious aisles, and gazed up into its lofty
dome, lost in its reverie inspiring influence ; and
here it has been to the creative power of human
genius that I have done homage. St. Paul's is a
grand and stately giant, proclaiming, " Worship
to its creator — man."
I have stood in the aisles of Westminster
Abbey. National greatness, human power vanish
before this spot, this holy of holies. Among
many cathedrals, never have I seen one whose
roof so nearly touched the heavens, whose walls
took in such grandeur. Enter and behold! The
building around you dissolves, and lo ! a temple
whose picture, painted by the burning pencil of
enthusiastic reverence for the great and good,
shall never be seen but on the secret pages of
your own soul. Through its far-stretching aisles
rolls the succession of the ages ; its pillars com-
plete in symmetry, now drawing the eye forward,
are transformed into columns of beauty, planted
by civilization and philanthropy along " the
corridors of Time ;" anon lifting the eye upward
to the majestic vault whose lines of beauty
go LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
symbolize the happy age to descend upon earth
when such elevating influences as are here
hallowed shall have developed " the perfect man
that is to be." Go to London Tower if you would
see a mighty emblem of England's power; go to
St. Paul's to feel the greatness of human genius ;
go to Westminster Abbey to sound the depth of
your own soul, to measure the littleness of man,
the greatness of mankind.
He who would seek for the earliest beginning
of a sacred temple on this spot, must go back to
a time so early that the boundaries of history and
fable not only meet but are inextricably confused.
The monks of this abbey, wishing to rival in
antiquity the edifice to St. Paul, forged fictitious
chronicles, in some of which they make it origin-
all\ a Pagan temple destroyed by an earthquake
A. D. 154 ; other archives date its foundation as
a Christian temple, A. D. 184; the ambition of
others was satisfied by as early an origin as the
fifth or sixth century ; both of the latter make it,
during the early persecutions of the Christians, a
temple to Apollo. To King Sebert, whose ancient
tomb is seen at the side of the present altar, is
given the credit of restoring the Christian worship
here. The church, or minster, was built on a
neglected spot overrun with thorns, called Thorney
Island, and situated west of London ; hence its
name. Its proper title is "The Collegiate
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 9 1
Church, or Abbey of St. Peter," to which saint it
was dedicated.
In the chronicles just mentioned is an account
of its miraculous dedication by St. Peter himself:
preparations for this ceremony were nearly com-
pleted, when one dark and stormy night a fisher-
man named Edricus was accosted by a person who
demanded to be carried across the Thames^ prom-
ising a reward. Edricus took his passenger to
Thorney Island, where the stranger entered the
church from which issued immediately light of
wonderful brightness ; the air was filled with the
music of celestial voices and perfumed with fra-
grant odors, while angels were seen ascending and
descendino- between heaven and earth. St. Peter
finally issued from the church, and so successfully
restored the awe-struck fisherman that the latter
did not forget to remind the apostle of his
promised reward. After announcing his name, the
purpose of his visit, and commissioning him to tell
the Bishop to refrain from a second dedication, St.
Peter ordered Edricus to cast his nets into the
river; the result was a iniraczdous draught of salmon.
The saint promised Edricus that none of his
brethren should ever want for fish so long as they
presented every tenth fish to the church just
dedicated. Belief in this tale was so faithfully
inculcated by the monks, that even so late as the
fourteenth century fishermen were in the habit of
92 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
offering salmon on the high altar, receiving in
return refreshment of ale and bread at the
convent table.
Passing beyond the time of King Sebert, in
the seventh century, the history of the abbey is
reliably connected with the name of Edward the
Confessor, the last of the Saxon Kings of Eng-
land. He was the first who touched for the disease
called "king's evil," and his miraculous healing
power was by virtue of his great sanctity. In
Edward's exile during the Danish rule in England,
he made a vow, should he be restored to his throne,
of a pilgrimage to Rome. Scarcely was the vow
made when the crown descended upon his brow.
His people, however, objected to the absence
necessary for a pilgrimage, and, at their request,
the Pope absolved him from his vow on condition
of his building or restoring some church. Strangely
enough, immediately thereupon a monk of
Westminster had a dream, in which St. Peter
commanded him to announce to the King that he
should repair the church to which this monk
belonged ; thus Edward was relieved of some
perplexity, and he proceeded to rebuild the church
from its very foundation. It was, if I be not
mistaken, the first cruciform church in England.
Its building occupied fifteen years and on it was
spent one-tenth of the whole wealth of the king-
dom. For the present cathedral we are chiefly
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 93
indebted to Henry III., of the thirteenth century.
According to the rehgious faith of the sovereign
it has been by turns Cathohc and Protestant.
Poet's Corner! Never was sacred spot christened
with a more beautiful name — a name familiar to
us as that of London itself ; a spot to which the
American heart clino^s with almost strongfer tendrils
of affection than that of the Englishman. Poet's
Corner occupies the south transept, one of the
short arms of the cross forminof the outline of the
building ; it consists of a nave and one aisle, and is
eighty-two feet in length by eighty-four in width;
its stained glass windows represent, for the most
part, scriptural scenes from the life of Christ. In
point of sculpture it is the poorest part of the
abbey, but in point of sentiment and inspiration,
in its world-wide encircling mental and intellectual
traditions, was ever spot in all the world so rich.'^
From pole to pole, from ocean shore to ocean shore,
where will you find a cultured soul that does not
glow with warmth responsive to the heavenly fire
with which the genius of those who rest here has
lighted the world? This is not, as the name might
imply, a spot dedicated to writers of poetry only.
Divines, musicians, actors— all whose poetic souls
have found expression in beautiful lives — may
here minHe their ashes with the ashes of those
who, independent of deeds, have with words
flooded the world with harmony.
94 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
The first poet buried in the abbey was, most
appropriately, Chaucer, who has been styled the
Father of English Poetry. He died in 1400. His
monument was erected in 1555. Over his tomb
is a memorial window, illustrated almost entirely
by the different characters in his works, chiefly
from his " Canterbury Tales." One of Chaucer's
poems bears this title, " A Ballad Made by
Geoffrey Chaucer on His Death-bed, Lying in
Great Anguish," in which each verse ends with
this line :
" And Truth thee shall deliver, it is no dread."
It was only at my second visit, and then by
accident, that I discovered the final resting place
of Dickens. A grayish marble slab in the floor,
over which one may heedlessly walk, bears this
inscription in letters of brass: " Charles Dickens ;
born 7th February, 1812; died 9th June, 1870."
For an hour I sat by this simple memorial, and it
seemed almost sacrilege that that brain, which had
known how to play upon all the keys of the human
heart and make it vibrate to his touch, should lie
low in the dust beneath my unworthy tread ; and
as the folds of my garments rested on his stony
covering; I would fain have softened to him, for
his genius' sake, the great humiliation in dust
which awaits as all, whether we be inspired
masters or unworthy slaves.
Directly in a line from this stone, a dozen feet
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 95
or more distant, in the rear of a statue to Addison,
are the busts of Thackeray and Macaulay side by
side ; near by, a plain slab in the pavement bearing
the name of the latter, indicates his grave. The
memorial to Shakespeare (for not all who have
monuments here are here interred) was erected
125 years after his death. It is a statue of the
poet in the dress of the time, holding, as he stands,
a scroll on which one reads his own words :
" The cloud capped towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temple, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And like the baseless fabric of a vision,
Leave not a wreck behind."
A monument on the wall bears, under his
medallion, this inscription : " O, Rare Ben John-
son;" a little further alono^ and over a door, the
medallion of Goldsmith's homely profile. Here,
too, are Spencer, Milton, Thompson, Southey,
Campbell, and many others whose very names
have become poems to us, their heirs. Musicians
are usually buried near the choir, but Handel's
monument is in the Poet's Corner ; it represents
him in the attitude of composition ; in the back-
ground an organ ; above, an angel playing on a
harp ; under his arm a pil#of musical instruments;
before him the Messiah, open at the words, " I
know that my Redeemer liveth."
Nor are there wanting here those who have
worn, not the crown of genius, but the double
96 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
crown of regality and woe. Here are Ann of
Cleves, one of the wives of Henry VHI., and
Anne, wife of Richard HI., poisoned by her royal
husband.
Among these immortal names you might smile,
were not the place so grandly touching, to read
on the pavement, that beneath your feet lies one
w^io threatened to rival with bodily immortality
the intellectual immortalitv of those who here
surround him. It is the grave of Thomas Parr,
who lived to be 152 years old; he saw the
successive reigns of ten kings, from Edward IV.
to Charles I. inclusive, and died A. D. 1635.
It is hard to tear one's self away from the Poet's
Corner, but you cease not to hear in aisle and
chapel a voice crying to you to " put off the shoes
from your feet for the ground is holy," and surely
no barefooted pilgrim ever walked in greater
humility than falls upon one who here turns back
the leaves of centuries and sees how few lines and
how small a space suffice to tell the grandest
stories of human greatness.
The north transept, exactly opposite the Poet's
Corner, offers the greatest possible contrast in its
colossal and magnificent monuments. Here lie,
with many others. Lord Mansfield, Chatham, Fox,
Pitt, Castlereagh, Canning, Wilberforce and Grat-
tan ; the monuments of the first four, especially,
are wonderful in size, desiorn and elaborate detail.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 97
Here, too, a splendid statue of Lord Palmerston,
in his robes of office, seems to have arisen from
beneath the slab of Aberdeen marble in the pave-
ment covering the remains of Lord and Lady
Palmerston. The whole length of the abbey,
including the chapel of Henry Mil., is 511 feet
and from the- latter place the eye can follow the
beautiful lines of the arched roof from one end
to the other ; the floor is divided by elaborate
screens into the nave 166 feet in length, and, with
its two aisles, 71 feet in width; the choir, 155 feet;
the chapel of Edward the Confessor and the chapel
of Henry VH,, 103 feet in leno^th by 70 feet in
width. In the nave, on one of the pilasters of the
organ screen separating the nave from the choir, is
the monument of Sir Isaac Newton. It represents
him in a half-recumbent position, his arm resting
on four folios ; above him a globe, on which sits a
female figure representing Astronomy; underneath
are bas-reliefs showing his various philosophical
labors, one representing the weighing of the sun
by a scale, on one end of which hangs the sun,
balanced at the other end by the seven planets.
Near the center of this nave a wreath, of which
you see several scattered on the pavement,
marking here and there the visit of thoughtful
friends, attracted our attention to a stone quite
covered with inscriptions. This is the grave of
Livingstone, the African traveler.
98 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
The shorter end of the cross outh'ning West-
minster Abbey is occupied by the chapel conse-
crated to the tomb or shrine of St, Edward the
Confessor, and four small chapels around it. A
dilapidated but very curious screen separates this
chapel from the altar ; the screen is fourteen feet
high by thirty-eight feet in length, having a frieze
of equal length, in which are sculptured fourteen
different scenes representing as many events of
St. Edward's life.
Against this screen stand the coronation chairs;
homely, straight-backed, uncon-ifortable, wooden
chairs from which all sign of ornament has
disappeared; they are probably about 600 years
old. At the ceremony of coronation they are
placed before the altar. Under the seat of one of
them is hung the famous stone of Scone, a common-
looking piece of stone twenty-six inches long,
seventeen wide, and ten thick. The use of a stone
as a coronation seat seems to have been a most
ancient custom, originating in the East ; but when
this stone first served the purpose is unknown.
For centuries the superstition existed that wher-
ever it was placed, there the Scottish race would
reign. About the end of the thirteenth century
Edward I. took it by force from the castle of
Scone, Scotland, where it had been for more than
400 years, and placed it in its present position.
It is said — a not incredible storv — that it was first
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 99
sent to Scotland for the coronation of Fergus, the
first Kinor of Scotland descended from the blood-
royal of Ireland. He was crowned B. C. 330.
The Irish called it " The Stone of Fate," and
kept it in the royal palace at Tara, In that country
there was a superstition that if the right heir to
the crown seated himself upon it for coronation,
from it would issue a sound resembling thunder ;
otherwise it remained silent.
The Irish chronicles give its history as having
been brought from Egypt to Spain and thence to
Ireland, and, moreover, tell us that it is the very
stone on which Jacob rested his head during the
dream in which he saw angels ascendinof and
descending between heaven and earth.
Beyond the chapel of St. Edward the abbey
has been lengthened by the addition of the chapel
of Henry VII., begun by him in 1503 and un-
finished at his death. It was this Henry who
would fain have made arrangements to have, "so
long as the world should last," three masses said
daily for his soul. This chapel consists of a nave
and two aisles, the latter divided into several
parts, and here it is that the royal mausoleums are
for the most part found. The principal part of
the nave was devoted, at some unknown date, to
the ceremony of the installation of the Knights
of the Bath, and here are still suspended on high
their banners, faded and dropping to pieces with
lOO LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
age. This chapel could hardly be excelled in
elaborateness and beauty of architecture ; the
main roof is an arch of ponderous masses of stone
suspended in the air ; they are cut in the form of
conical pendants, of which there are three rows
extending from one end of the arched roof to the
other ; these pendants of stone are so exquisitely
and hnely carved that they look like fine embroid-
eries of some delicate, lace-like material, or, as
Washington Irving says, they have the wonderful
minuteness and airy security of a cobweb. From
fioor to ceilinof nothino- is to be seen but the rarest
and richest of sculptured decorations. The
columns, separating nave from aisles, form arches,
above which, extending completely around the
chapel, is a range of angels variously draped,
supporting with uplifted hands floral designs;
above these anirels is another row of statues about
three feet in height, each occupying its own
niche, the niches being separated by the richest
of sculpturing. On each side of the nave, raised
some four or five feet from the ground and over-
hung by carved wooden canopies reaching to the
sculptured stone above, are the stalls of the
knights, and below and in front of these, the
seats of their esquires. These stalls and seats
bear among their carvings of angels, saints,
heroes, oak branches, etc., many grotesque
carvings also. Here are bacchanalians, dragons,
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. lOI
fiery monsters, a bear playing; on a bagpipe, a
mermaid with mirror and comb, inOnkeys perform-
ing various antics, a hog pJalying/ p?i; a ■ flute,
the devil carrying off a monk on his shoulders ;
the whole story of the judgment of Solomon,
showing the exchanging of the dead child, the
women quarreling, the executioner about to cleave
the child in two, etc.; no two specimens of carving
alike, yet all symmetrical and of the most exquisite
workmanship. The eye can hardly rest on a spot
unadorned by the artist's skill.
Underneath the marble floor is a royal vault;
the names of those who have here descended to
that throne from which no reverse can drive them,
are plainly and simply cut in the pavement.
It would be the work of days or weeks to study
the monuments to royalty in the chapel of Henry
VII.; but to lovers of the romance of history,
none perhaps will be more attractive than those
of Queen Elizabeth and of Mary, Queen of Scots,
the former in the north aisle, the latter, in the
south; both were erected by James I., who has
made that of his mother the more imposing of the
two. Her remains were privately brought here
by him from the place where they were deposited
after her execution, and placed under this monu-
ment. Elizabeth and her sister, Bloody Mary,
Protestant and Catholic, are the sole tenants of a
single grave near the monument of Elizabeth.
I02 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
For Mary, Oiieen of Scots, a recumbent statue
rests upon -a'" sartophagus of marble, surmounted
by -a eitiopy'* supported by eight lofty, marble
pillars ; her head rests on two embroidered
cushions, hands raised as if in prayer, head
covered by a close coif, round her neck a plaited
ruff, a mantle lined with ermine, high-heeled shoes,
and at her feet the Scottish lion, crowned. That
of her executioner, Elizabeth, though less grand,
is somewhat similar ; her features are those of
advanced years, she is richly dressed, decorated
with jewels, the Order of the Garter around her
neck.
From Westminster Abbey one carries with him
the memory of a mental experience bathed in a
sacred baptismal flood of feeling, yet not all
untinged with regret that it is not wholly con-
secrated to the ashes of the nobly good or the
irreproachably great. One would that there were
no tinge of truth in the sarcasm of Sir Godfrey
Kneller — the only painter, I believe, who has a
monument in this abbey. On his death-bed he
sent for his friend Pope and declared to him
with an oath that he would not be buried in
Westminster Abbey. " Why .?" said Pope. "Be-
cause they do bury fools there," was his reply.
But even intruded upon as it is by unworthy
ashes and undeserved memorials, it is a spot of
such peculiar associations that we would not, if
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. IO3
we could, find its like elsewhere in the world, and
we pass out through its portals into the world
from which we have been for a while so completely
withdrawn, feeling that all our future years are
enriched by the memory of the hours spent in
Westminster Abbey.
London, January, 1875.
I04
LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
IX.
THE TOWER OF LONDON.
ANY of the interesting buildings of
, London, which are not always open
free to the public, are so on certain
days of the week, and it is a pleasant sight to meet
in these grand old places, museums and galleries
of art, persons of every age and every class. I
recall with a smile a group of the raggedest little
urchins that were ever seen, making such a bee-
line for the collection of monkeys in the British
Museum as showed it was not their first visit.
Aofain, a middle-ao^ed man hands and face stained
with the ineffaceable grime of toil, and surrounded
by a half-grown family, all clasping hands, as,
gaping with wonder, they walked along the aisles
of St. Paul's, enjoying his scant holiday.
Thus London is elevating the English race, and
not by her noble buildings only, but by all other
educational means. There is almost no limit
to the number and variety of libraries, evening
schools and schools of art, opening their doors at
such hours as the laboring man, woman or youth,
can alone devote to self-improvement ; and this
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. IO5
either free or at a mere nominal price, either
supported by Government, or founded by some
of those thoughtful men who, living or dying, have
made the poor partakers of those immense fortunes
so comparatively common in England, and which
elsewhere would excite much greater surprise.
This winter the London population has risen en
masse to petition that the British Museum be
opened on Sundays ; it is said that many would
be glad to visit it instead of spending their only
leisure day in places of degrading influence, and
that the only way to reform people is first to pro-
vide for them some other pleasure to take the place
of indulgences you would induce them to abandon.
It is proposed to overcome the objection liable to
be raised by employees against working on the
Sabbath by appointing a corps of Jews as custo-
dians on that day.
The free days are the most satisfactory for visit-
ing, although it may be well to first make the
hurried round with the guide and "get the hang"
of the place. On these days I have always found
the attendants unusually ready to converse, and
then you are at liberty to roam around by your-
self, to linger as long as you please, either curiously
to examine architecture, paintings, etc., or to
yield yourself to the spell of historical association
and bring to the surface of your thought long-
forgotten facts. On pay-days you are locked out
iq6 letters of travel.
from many parts of the building, and when
introduced within the closed doors by the guide,
you have only time for a hurried glance, for he
must return to serve the next party.
In response to the people's request that the
Tower be opened to them, Parliament has granted
two public days each week, but the days had not
been fixed upon at the time of our visit; however,
we were accompanied by an excellent guide, who
was really animated in repeating his oft-told
tale.
Approaching London Tower one sees such a
mass of buildino^s that he thinks London Towers
would be a more appropriate name. The whole
fortifications consist of a deep moat about one
hundred and twenty feet in width, an outer wall
and an inner wall inclosing a central court and its
buildings ; the exterior measurement of the moat
is about half a mile ; the outer wall incloses a
space nearly square, of thirteen acres. The moat
was intended to be filled by the water of the
Thames, on the banks of which, about half a mile
below London Bridge, the fortifications are built.
A raised wharf intervenes on the south between
the moat and the river. Both walls are fortified
by towers, and are separated by a narrow street ;
the inner wall is twelve feet thick, over forty feet
high, and has twelve towers, most of which have
served principally as prisons for illustrious persons.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. lOj
The most interesting tower of the outer wall
is that of St. Thomas, built over the moat.
Under it is the Traitor's Gate, with its steps
leading upward from the river. State prisoners
were usually brought to the Tower by this
entrance. This gate-way is no longer used ; but
as you stand looking down its gloomy arch the
guide will probably tell you that when Elizabeth,
then Princess, was sent here a prisoner by order
of her sister, Queen Mary, she refused, until
threatened with force, to enter through the
Traitor's Gate, indignantly asserting her loyalty
as she ascended the steps. At the top she sat
down and would go no further, saying, " Better
sit here than in a worse place, for God knoweth,
not I, whither you will bring me." Perhaps she
then remembered her mother who, seeing
death at the end of this fatal entrance, fell on her
knees beneath its arch and prayed God, as she
was innocent, to defend her. The towers of the
inner wall are closed to visitors, who thus fail to
read with their own eyes, inscribed on stone less
hard than the hearts of kings, the last thoughts of
many who have earned forgiveness through
suffering, or have hallowed history by their noble
deaths.
As we pass along, the guide tells us the names
of the towers, and points out which were the
particular prisons of certain celebrated persons.
I08 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
We next come to the only opening by which
the inner wall is pierced ; it is an arched entrance
under the Bloody Tower, the scene of the murder
of his two nephews by Richard III. This arch is
thirty-four feet long and fifteen feet wide. Over-
head you see the openings, provided in ancient
times, for pouring down death upon the heads of
any enemy attempting to enter.
We now stand in the hollow square inclosed
within the walls. In its center is the White
Tower, built by William the Conqueror, in the
latter part of the eleventh century, although
the history of the spot as a fort for the protection
of the city runs back to an uncertain period, far
earlier than the time of the Norman ; old writers
give us its traditions from the time of Julius
Csesar, and Fitz-Stephen, who died in 1191,
describes it as a building "whose mortar is
tempered by the blood of beasts ; ". he might now
add, and its soil watered by the blood of kings.
Besides the White Tower there are several
other buildings in this central court, viz.: barracks
for soldiers, a military store-house, the horse
armory and guard-house built against two sides of
the White Tower, St. Peter's chapel and the
jewel-house.
St. Peter's chapel, built six hundred years ago
on the site of another, its predecessor by three
hundred years, is not open to visitors, though
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. I OQ
from a little spot now inclosed and quite near its
walls, many a noble head has rolled from its life-
less trunk, here to pillow itself under an unmarked
tomb. St. Peter's vaults contain the remains of
Anne Boleyn and of Lady Jane Grey, of the Duke
of Norfolk and of the Earl of Essex ; here was
buried Sir Thomas More, and here are said to be
the bones of Cromwell ; here, too, lies the Duke
of Monmouth, natural son of Charles II., of
whose execution we have the sickening story that
only at the fifth stroke did the headsman's ax
descend with sufficient force to deprive the royal
Duke of consciousness.
The first building we enter is the Horse
Armory, 150 feet long and 34 feet wide. Along
its whole length runs a line of alcoves, each of
which bears the arms of the royal family it repre-
sents and the name of the sovereign in whose
reign the armor and instruments of war in the
alcove were used. All is arranged in chronolog-
ical order. In the center of each alcove is a
mounted warrior, horse and rider both clad in
armor which is of chain or of plate and sometimes
a combination of both. Some of the armor is
exceedingly rich, almost covered with the gold
that is so finely inwrought. Many of the suits of
armor have been made for, and worn by, different
kings and nobles known as their owners. There
are also smaller suits made for certain royal princes
no LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
from five to ten years of age. Not only is there
armor, but helmets, swords and weapons from
every age and country. The contents of the
gallery above this are as varied as those below —
trophies and curiosities without number. Among
other things is a glass case in which is preserved
the cloak on which General Wolfe was carried
from the midst of the battle on the plains of
Abraham at Quebec, to a little hollow a few rods
distant, where, a few months ago, we had stood
before the monument erected on the very spot of
his death, from which this cloak had been rever-
ently borne.
From the Horse Armory we pass into the main
building. The White Tower is a quadrangular
structure 1 16 feet long, 96 feet wide, 92 feet high ;
at each angle of its roof rises a watch-tower or
turret ; it is three stories high with basement, and
its walls are 15 feet thick. Formerly the royal
palace, as well as fort and prison, it is now a large
armory, in which, besides many curious and
ancient specimens of weapons of war and other
curiosities, were ranged nearly 100,000 stands of
modern arms ready for use.
The first apartment we enter is called Queen
Elizabeth's Armory ; in an alcove at the extremity
of this room is an equestrian figure of Her Majesty,
representing her dressed as she is supposed to
have been when she went in procession to celebrate
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. I I I
at St. Paul's the defeat of the Spanish Armada ;
a page wearing the dress of her period stands at
her horse's head, and on the wall behind her is a
painting of the former St. Paul's Cathedral. This
room is said to have been the place of Sir Walter
Raleigh's imprisonment ; two dark cells which it
almost smothers one to remain in for a minute, are
shown as the sleeping apartments of himself and
companions ; since his time the large room has
been lighted with windows instead of loop-holes,
and its interior mostly rebuilt, but the inscriptions
on the walls by former prisoners have been care-
fully preserved.
In this room we find various instruments of
torture, and here, too, is the block on which Anne
Boleyn and Lady Jane Grey laid their queenly
young heads — followed by the Earl of Essex and
others — under the ax whose bloody history sickens
us as we look at it.
The Block, of hard wood almost black in color,
is some two and a half feet high, two-thirds as
wide and half as thick ; its upper surface is
hollowed on one edge to receive the neck as the
kneeling victim bends before fate and death.
From Queen Elizabeth's Armory we ascend
into the Royal Chapel ; it is quite empty, long
since stripped of ornament and religious ceremony,
but its double row of Norman arches, one above
the other, delights the eye with their beauty. As
1 I 2 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
we mount the narrow stairway a brass plate In the
wall indicates to us the steps under which, two
hundred years after Richard III. had hidden away
the dead bodies of his nephews, some workmen
makincr repairs found the bones of two bodies
corresponding to their ages — eight and twelve
years. The bones were interred by Charles II.
at Westminster Abbey In the chapel of Henry
VII.
We now pass Into galleries filled principally
with modern arms, and here we admire the curious
decorations of the walls. There are various
devices all formed entirely of swords straight and
curved, ramrods, caps and other parts of arms.
These are arranged mostly in the form of flowers,
some of them being from eight to ten feet in
diameter.
There are several varieties of the lily, sun-
flowers, fuchsias, etc., the three feathers of the
crest of the Prince of Wales, and other royal
insignia.
The last room we enter is the upper story, the
former Council Chamber, and the scene of many
of the most important events In English history.
In this room Richard II. received the deputation
from Parliament who came to demand of him his
abdication in favor of his cousin Henry Boling-
broke. First requesting a private Interview with
the latter, the King then re-entered the Council
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. I 1 3
Chamber, dressed in his robes of State, the crown
upon his head, the scepter in his hand. Of these
he then formally unclad himself, and gave them
into the hands of his successor Henry IV.
" I give this heavy weight from off my head,
And this unwieldy scepter from my hand,
The pride of kingly sway from out my heart,
With mine own tears I wash away my balm,
With mine own hands I give away my crown,
With mine own tongue deny my sacred state."
Here, too, was the tragic scene of the condemna-
tion of Lord Hastings, seized, tried, dragged down
the Tower stairs and beheaded, all within one
hour, and all because he defended the throne from
the usurper.
We descend and cross the court to the jewel-
house. Here are displayed five crowns all rep-
resented as set with precious stones except that of
the Prince of Wales ; his crown of pure gold is
placed before his chair beside the throne when he
visits the House of Lords. There are also half a
dozen scepters, of which St. Edward's staff, carried
before the sovereign at coronations, is golden,
four and a half feet long ; the swords of mercy
and justice, and the gold communion service and
anointinof vessels for the consecration of the new
sovereign ; also a font of gold for the christening
of the royal children. Instead of the Koh-i-noor
there was merely 2i fac-siniile of it in glass. An
old woman had charge of the jewel-room, and one
I 1 4 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
soldier kept g-uard outside the door. It seemed as
if by the aid of chloroform a second attempt like
that of Colonel Blood might not be unsuccessful.
Blood, disguised in the character of a parson, won
the favor of the keeper's family, and pretended to
wish to marry his nephew to the daughter. An
interview between the two was appointed, to
which Blood came accompanied by some friends.
Remaining with the latter to examine the jewels,
they overthrew the old man, and were having
things their own way until disturbed by the
entrance of the keeper's long-absent son, just
returned from Flanders. Blood escaped, actually
carrying away the Royal Crown under his cloak ;
pursued, he was overtaken when he exclaimed :
" 'T was a gallant attempt ; it was for a crown."
The end of the affair is its strangest part ; whether
influenced by fear of Blood's desperate accom-
plices, or beguiled by his audacious flattery, the
King, instead of punishing Blood, took him into
his favor, and no petitions were so certain of suc-
cess as those presented through Blood. A poet of
the time thus expresses the general indignation :
" Since loy.alty does no man good,
Let's steal the King and outdo Blood."
We pass again into the court and stand upon one
of the most solemn spots of English soil, a few feet
of ground near St. Peter's Chapel, where, genera-
tion after generation, was wont to flow the noblest
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. I I 5
blood of England's aristocracy, freely mingled with
that of royalty. This is Tower Green. To this
spot walked so bravely Lady Jane Grey, the ten
days' Queen, calm amid the sobs of her attend-
ants. On her way from the Tower to the Green
she met the headless corpse of her husband being
carried away on a cart. Arriving at the bloody
spot she asks the prayers of the bystanders, kneels,
and repeats a psalm, arranges her dress, and her-
self bandages her eyes ; the executioner begs her
forgiveness for what he is about to do ; she
whispers her pardon. A friendly hand guides her
to the block, which she, blinded, vainly gropes for.
Kneeling, she exclaims : " Lord, into Thy hands
I commend my spirit" — and all is over.
Here, in beauty as brilliant on the day of her
execution as on that of her coronation less than
three years before, Anne Boleyn paid the penalty
of her ambition and was hurriedly hid away from
the world's sight and her husband's memory.
Here this same Henry put to death the Marchion-
ess of Salisbury, nearly eighty years of age ; the
proud old gentlewoman refused to lay her head
upon the block, declaring she was no traitor, and
the executioner actually beat her to death as he
followed her around the block.
Thrilled and sickened by the associations of
this little spot of earth, we leave London Tower,
with its eight centuries of history and nearly two
Il6 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
thousand years of tradition ; for five centuries
the alternate palace and prison of England's
sovereigns ; as a palace, more ancient by four
hundred years than any other in Europe ; as a
prison, equaled only by that of St. Angela at
Rome ; its story made up of the extremes of
splendor and woe, of courao;e and misfortune — a
dizzy scene " of the dance of Love and the dance
of Death."
London, January, 1875.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. I I /
X.
THE KNIGHTS TEMPLAR AND THEIR TEMPLE.
T is one of the traveler's rarest treats, and
a pleasure seldom his, to arrive accidentally
in some curious place, to whose remarkable
features his past reading furnishes no key ; in
short, where he finds himself surrounded by
mystery, and the place a riddle. Such an expe-
rience was one day mine in London. Strolling
leisurely along the Strand I observe a woman
disappear within a low arch of a building, and
curiosity prompts me to follow. At the end of
the arch I find myself in a court with a curious
round church, the narrow green at its side
surrounded by high buildings. Still intent on
following the fast-disappearing figure, I pass
through a narrower and lower arch beneath other
buildings, and so continue through several plain
brick courts and arched passage-ways, until I
arrive at a building which I do not doubt to be
another church. When just about to enter it, my
eye falls on a notice that none but members are
allowed to dine within, I turn away and soon
come upon another building which looks like
I I 8 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
a church, but having lost confidence in my
judgment of sacred buildings, I think it safer to
call this, too, a banqueting-hall. I am now in a
large court with trees, a fountain, seats and lawn ;
on three sides are high, brick buildings, and on
each building a large sun-dial of wood, that, with
ground of black or of blue, and hours and inscrip-
tions lettered in gold, indicate them to be modern
substitutes for more ancient dials ; each different
sun-dial bears its own Latin motto, and, by the
way, it is to me a matter of the greatest surprise
that such a prudent, practical people as the English
should be so lavish of sun-dials, where sunshine is
so scarce ; the fourth side stretches towards the
embankment of the Thames, and then spreads
out into grounds which, though by no means
destitute of flowers, are rather a field than a
garden.
All this lay spread out under the solemn
sunlight of the declining year— for the sun did
shine that day — and bathed in a strange air of
quietude. Was it by magic that in three minutes
I had been transported from the busiest scenes of
busy London to this spot so undisturbed by the
commotion of life, where old age, sunning itself,
might prepare for its inheritance of eternal peace
singing with the poet,
" As I come
I tunc my instrument here at the door,
And what I must do there, think here before ? "
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. I I 9
Awhile I sit here alone enjoying this remarkable
solitude in London, and questioning all around me ;
but neither the sun-dials staring down upon me,
nor their solemn monitions in a dead tongue, nor
ancient banqueling-hall, with curious roof and rich
windows, nor the frequent emblem of the lamb,
nor the exquisite modern stone building — the
library — still farther towards the river, deign to
reply, and I am forced to seek imformation from a
pale invalid who seats herself beside me, seeking
here a little bit of fresh air and sunshine, of which
there was so little on hand when this part of the
world was made. Her answer is, "This is
Temple Gardens." I have often wondered what
kind of a place the Temple Buddings and Temple
Gardens might be, for scarcely one novel of
London life have I ever read that did not contain
some reference to this locality ; wonder is now
satisfied, and I have only to gaze.
The Strand is one of the principal business
streets of London. As its name implies, it follows
the course of the Thames, and there is not a very
wide space between the two ; it extends from near
the heart of the city of London toward West-
minster, formerly a separate city; the dividing line
between London and Westminster is Temple Bar,
a stone gateway built across the Strand, propped
up at the present time by wooden supports, and
under whose arch all teams are required to slacken
I20 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
their speed to a walk ; it will probably soon be
removed, on account of its insecurity. The
Temple Buildings are near Temple Bar and
between the Strand and the Thames ; they are
occupied by lawyers as chambers and offices.
Early in the twelfth century, nine knights,
pitying the outrages to which were subjected the
Christian pilgrims to Jerusalem, which city had
been recently captured from the Mahometans,
agreed to unite and devote their lives and fortunes
to the defense of the highways leading to Jeru-
salem, and to the protection of Christian travelers
from Saracen attack. They were lodged by the
heads of the Church within the temple on Mount
Moriah, and though at first calling themselves
" Poor fellow-soldiers of Jesus Christ," were soon
known as the " Knighthood of the Temple of
Solomon." Rapidly increasing in numbers and
wealth, they enlarged their sphere of action, and
no longer limiting themselves to defending the
roads leading to Jerusalem, avowed the object of
their labors to be the defense of all Christendom.
Hugh de Payens was their first head ; with the
sanction of the Pope, he traveled through Europe
to make known the existence and object of the
society, and to increase numbers and funds. It
was in 1128 that he arrived in London, where
he formally established the first temple, now no
longer existing ; soon afterwards he returned to
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. I 2 I
Jerusalem, accompanied by three hundred new
brethren, members of the noblest families in
Europe, mostly from France and England ; all
gave their whole possessions to the society.
As the Order in England increased in wealth,
they bought the site of the present buildings,
which, in distinction from the first, became known
as the New Temple. Here they erected a church
and separate residences for the Master, for the
Knights, and for the Chaplain, as well as for the
serving brethren and domestics ; also, a dining-
hall, and a chapter-house in which to hold their
meetings; while their garden, extending along the
banks of the Thames, served as a pleasure-ground
for themselves, a training-field for their horses,
and for their own military exercises. Their differ-
ent buildings gave rise to the names still in use —
the Outer Temple, the Middle Temple and the
Inner Temple.
The rules of the house were drawn up by St.
Bernard, and in 1 1 72 Pope Alexander issued a bull
in their favor. Hugh de Payens, on his departure,
had placed a Knight at the head of the institution
in England, with the title of Prior of the Temple;
but with the new buildings and the new code
of laws, the head of the house was known as
Master. To him minor provincial institutions
were subject, and it was his duty to visit and
inspect them. The chief head of the Kni^-hts
122 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
Templar resided at Jerusalem, and was known as
the Grand Master.
The Master was one of the Templars, elected
by themselves in Chapter or Assembly. Only a
Knight, or the son of a Knight, could be elected
a Templar ; there were, however, other classes in
the society to which any one might be admitted on
condition of making certain vows, and bequeath-
ing his property to the Order ; Pope Innocent III.
was such a member. There was also another class
in which children were educated to the service
of the Knights.
A Knight applying for admission to the society
of Templars, had first to declare himself free from
all obligations ; that he was neither married nor
betrothed ; that he belonged to no other religious
order ; was free from debt, and in good health.
Introduced into the assembly he knelt before the
Master and prayed to be accepted as the servant
and slave of the Order. The Master would then
reply to him, that from outward appearances he
judged it a matter of luxury to be one of their
number, but that their rules were most rigorous.
"It is a hard matter for you who are your own
master to become the servant of another. You
will hardly be able to perform in future what you
yourself wish ; when you would sleep you will be
ordered to watch ; when you would watch you
will be ordered to go to bed ; when you would eat
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. I 23
you will be ordered to do something else." After
repeated series of interrogations and many vows,
the candidate was at last received with the assur-
ance of " bread and water, the poor clothing of the
Order, and labor and toil enow." The Master then
placed upon him the garment in which henceforth
he was always to appear — ^a white mantle with the
red cross upon it. Again admonished of his new
duties, among which were, that he was never,
without permission, to receive attendance from
women, that he was never to kiss any woman, not
even his mother or sister ; that he was also to
sleep in prescribed garments, to eat in silence,
beginning and ending each meal with prayer, and
whenever he should hear of the Master's death,
wherever he might be, immediately to repeat two
hundred paternosters for the repose of his soul.
The ceremony concluded by his receiving- arms
and equipments, three horses and one esquire as
attendant.
Although bound to such strict rules, their free
and roving life led to much laxity of self-discipline,
notwithstanding which, disobedience was punished
with extreme severity. There still exists in the
solid wall of the temple a penitential cell, four and
a half feet long by two and a half wide, thus
preventing the prisoner from extending himself at
full length ; therein, sometimes in fetters, penance
and confinement were enforced ; imprisonment
124 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
might be perpetual. A Knight named Valain-
court once deserted from the Order, but afterward
returned, offering submission to any penance that
might be ordered ; he was condemned to eat for
one year on the ground with the dogs, to fast four
days in each week on bread and water, and to be
pubHcly scourged every Sunday in the Temple
before the whole congregation.
The enormous wealth of the Order, who
possessed not less than nine thousand manors,
and whose income was said to be six million
pounds sterling per annum, was undoubtedly
the cause of its ruin. Edward II., of England,
was very willing to follow the lead of Philip the
Fair, of France, and by the sanction of Pope
Clement V.. said to be the tool of th-^ latter, they
were robbed of their possessions — which passed
mostly into the hands of these monarchs — thrown
into prison, subjected to torture so severe that
many died under it; their kindest treatment was
perpetual penance in some monastery. By one
decree alone fifty-four were sentenced to be burned
to death — this was in Paris. In 131 2 the Pope
finally abolished the Order.
The Temple of London then became the
property of the King, and, during the reign of
Edward III,, was rented for ten pounds sterling
per annum to students of law, who then for the
first time formed themselves into a society. In
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. I 25
the reign of Richard II., their number was so
large that they divided into two societies — the
Inner Temple and the Middle Temple ; the badge
of the former is a pegasus, of the latter, a holy
lamb, and the eye continually falls upon one or
the other of these emblems on wall, window, gate,
and door.
The new temple was not completed till after the
reverses following the first success of the Crusa-
ders, and the re-capture of Jerusalem by the Turks,
It was during a truce of four years between the
latter and the Christians, that Heraclius, Patriarch
of Jerusalem, came to England, accompanied by
the Master of the Knights of Malta, or St. John
— also called Knights Hospitallers from their
Order having originated in the establishment by
them, on the east side of the temple at Jerusalem,
of an hospital for sick pilgrims. During this visit,
Heraclius consecrated the Round Church, and
until the year 1695, when it was destroyed by
some workmen, an inscription over a door leading
from the church to the cloister recorded the fact.
There are but three other circular churches in
England. At some later period an oblong
addition has been made to the primitive building;
but although they open into each other and form
one continuous apartment, their roofs and ceilings
overhead are entirely distinct. The circular
portion has a diameter of fifty-eight feet, the
126 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
oblong a length of eighty-two feet ; width, fifty-
eight feet ; height, thirty-seven feet.
The Round Church has an inner circle of six
pillars, connected overhead with an outer circle of
twelve pillars ; it is said to be a copy of the temple
at Jerusalem, the model of the preceding Temple
of Solomon, the idea of which, in its turn, is said
to have found oricrin from the Mosaic ark in the
wilderness. It has several times been repaired
and restored, the last time at an enormous expense
and with the greatest possible truth to its primitive
features,
Enterinof throusfh the broad but rather low
arched doorway, we first notice the floor. It is
of encaustic tiles, some five or six inches square ;
their color is a reddish-brown, but so elaborately
inlaid with gold-colored patterns that the latter
color seems to predominate. The patterns vary ;
on one side of us we see that each tile bears the
encaustic figure of a lamb ; on our other hand it
is a winged horse, the emblems of the Societies
of the Temple ; elsewhere, various other animals,
as lions, tigers, wolves, etc., and also some
grotesque designs.
Near the center of the pavement, on either
side of the aisles, is a group of recumbent figures,
life-size. On one side are five of these effigies,
on the other four and a coffin. These are of
stone, and though time and abuse had greatly
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. I 27
injured them, they were most carefully and
ingeniously restored at the last restoration of the
building. This was done wholly at the expense
of the two law societies, possessors of the premises.
At that time it was found that originally they had
been richly colored ; one in particular having had
a coat of crimson, armor of gold, and head
resting upon a pillow enameled with glass ;
another, who was accidentally killed on the eve
of his departure for the Holy Land, is represented
as just unsheathing his sword. All the figures
are in armor, their immense shields on their right
arms. Five or six of them have the legs
crossed; these were Crusaders.
The outer and inner circles of pillars form a
circular promenade around the central part. As
we pass into this, involuntarily we stand motionless
as our eye, at but a slight elevation above its own
level, follows a line of sculptured heads but a few
feet apart and extending around the church. So
varied and interesting is this singular feature, it
might make the study of hours ; here is the
thoughtful face of the student, there of a beautiful
woman, and again, beauty distorted by agony; a
jester with leering face and tongue protruded from
one corner of his mouth ; another whose ear is
beinir torn off bv an animal that has fastened his
teeth upon it ; the proud faces of crowned kings ;
demons and angels ; faces that tell a story
I 28 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
of violent anguish, others of calm despair.
Unfortunately the spirit of reparation has not
always been that of restoration, and many of the
original pieces of sculpture have, in times past,
been cast aside and replaced by duplicates of the
remaining ones ; but connoisseurs have thought
to discover a general plan, viz.: that the usually
placid expression on one side of the building was
emblematic of the peace of heaven attained
through the prayers of the church, while the
suffering expression of those on the opposite side
represents the pains of purgatory.
The oblong part of the church in comparison
with the other, strikes one with its beauty rather
than its antiquity. The roof is groined and
supported by beautiful dark-colored, marble
pillars. The modern frescoing of the roof rivals
in brilliancy the ancient ceiling which, during the
process of restoration, was found to have been
once ornamented in orold and silver. In each
groin of the roof is a circle, in alternation bearing
the lamb on a red ground and the winged horse
on a blue. Over the aisle these are varied by the
introduction of the banner of the Templars, half
white, half black, because they showed themselves
wholly white towards the Christians but black and
terrible to their enemies. Still later this banner
was changed into the red Maltese cross on a
white ground. Both of these are seen on the
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. I 29
ceiling, as also a third, which represents the
Cross of Christ raised above the Crescent of the
Saracens, with a star on each side. The latter
device was copied from a seal attached to a
charter dated 1320, and preserved in the British
Museum.
The colored windows are very rich. Here
and there on the wall are pious inscriptions in
Latin and Old English, while the words of the
Te Deum make one long inscription around the
building.
The organ has a story of its own : During
the reign of Charles II., the two Law Societies
decided to procure for themselves an instrument
of extreme excellence. Two German manufac-
turers were rivals for the job, and it was finally
decided that each of them should build one and
leave the choice to the purchasers ; each made
the best organ in the world except the other, each
party paid the highest price to the best performers,
each added improvements, and, at the end of the
year, both were ruined in temper and almost
ruined in purse. The choice was finally left to
the Lord Chief Justice.
As we pass out from the church we turn aside
from the walk leadintr back to the Strand into
the green at the side, and there, heretofore
ignorant of his last resting place, we start with
surprise as the plain stone, covering his low grave.
130 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
displays, in large letters, these words — " Here
lies Oliver Goldsmith." Thus, almost at the very
dwelling he occupied in the days of the full bloom
of his popularity, with nothing grander than a
plain stone and the green turf, rests as should
rest, the ever simple child of Nature, the foster-son
of Genius,
London, March, 1875.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. I3I
XI.
BRITISH MUSEUM-CARLYLE IN HIS HOME— THE ALBERT
MEMORIAL — NATIONAL PORTRAIT GALLERIES —
HUXLEY AS TEACHER AND LECTURER— LONDON
SCEIOOL OF COOKERY.
66 ^^0>HE British Museum is so heavy," said
^fo) an English lady to me one day, and
^^^ ever since it has been impossible for
me to walk amid the collections of Assyrian,
Egyptian, and other ancient sculptures without a
vague feeling of the weight as well as the size of
these immense remnants of antiquity. The
British Museum is one of the solid facts of the
world, and I have not been in the habit of
thinking of it as ever having had a beginning ;
there was a sort of indefinite feeling in my mind
that, "in the beginning," London and the British
Museum were first created from the primitive
chaos, what was left over being afterwards used to
build the rest of the world around this great city.
It was on one of the marked days of life that I
accidentally came upon the tomb of Hans Sloane,
the founder, but little more than a century ago.
of the British Museum. The former line of the
street has retired backwards before the ever-
132 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
widening stream of humanity, but has left this
single monument protruding into the street, its
inconvenient position being all that forces it upon
the notice of the passer-by. In this modest but
most appropriate neighborhood lives Thomas
Carlyle, and as our steps turned towards his
dwelling I wondered that an occasion, the mere
anticipation of which would ordinarily fill me with
emotion, should to-day find an undisturbed pulse
and the usual curious eye for way-side sights ;
yet, one might as well be calm, for what emotion
could express our appreciation of him whose
electric words have set in motion minds that have
woven for us the modern web of science and
thought, who, if he has mercilessly probed the
weakness of man, has yet done it with a healthful
sting, and who, if he be a hero-worshipper, is so
from the innate impulse with which the fibres of
his being stretch themselves out in sympathy with
whatever is great.
The pictures in our country of Carlyle are
not very good ; he has not the wrinkled visage
and thought-weary, almost unhappy expression
generally seen in them, but rather the friendly,
happy look, so often characterizing the old age of
a well-spent life ; his thick head of hair is not
entirely whitened, his blue eye is bright but looks
worn with use, his form is thin and feeble, and the
continual trembling of his hand must interfere
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 1 33
greatly, if not entirely, with the use of his pen.
Expecting our visit, his eyes and whole face
lighted up with a smile of welcome as he entered
the room, extending both hands in greeting.
His first words after those of welcome, were of
singular beauty and appropriateness ; they were
a quotation from his own favorite Ossian, in reply
to my companion's congratulation on his apparent
good health ; " Yes, but
' Age is dark and unlovely.' "
The almost solemn sadness of the tone in which
he spoke the words, changed to cheerfulness as
he immediately added, " But I ought not to
complain," and then to vivacity, as thought and
reminiscence followed each other in uninterrupted
flow. It was quite wonderful to recall how much
he had said in our short visit ; he knew that we
had come to see and hear a great man, and he
paid us the compliment of putting as much of
himself as possible into our half-hour with him.
He ran over this and that history with apparently
no mental effort, and then, touching upon the
present and himself, said that the strangest thing
in the world to him were the little boys and girls
in the streets. Of course it would not have been
Thomas Carlyle had he not indulged in a little
downright scolding, and that scolding was about
California. " You are doing no good there ; you
are harming the world. Cover over your mines
134 .LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
leave your gold in the earth and go to planting
potatoes. Every man who gives a potato to
the world is the benefactor of his race ; but
you with your gold, are overturning society,
making the ignoble prominent, increasing every-
where the expenses of living, and confusing
all things." Expressing the hope that he would
live many years, to which he replied, " You need
not wish it for me, but I must await my
summons," we bade him adieu and passed out
again into the world, which for the moment
seemed shrunken and silent.
Those who find the Muses of the British
Museum too heavy have the alternative of paying
homage to those of Kensington. Kensington
was once a separate town, but, like so many
others, was long since devoured by hungry
London. Kensington Gardens are to-day nothing
but a continuation of Hyde Park. It is here we
find the last Albert Memorial, which everybody
asks if you have seen. It seems as if Prince
Albert's virtues must soon give out, leaving none
to commemorate, if his widowed Queen goes on
setting up, throughout the United Kingdom,
memorials as numerous as mile stones. Perhaps,
after all, the statues of Memnon scattered through
Asia, instead of being landmarks of the progress
of a lost religion were nothing but a series of
Albert memorials by some long-since forgotten
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. I 35
Queen, and that these of our day will be as great
a puzzle to a future race seeking to read the
history of the barbarian world of the nineteenth
century. To say that this monument is rich and
elegant is not to tell half its merit. One ascends
to it by a double terrace of broad handsome steps.
At each lower corner is a colossal group in pure
white marble, representing respectively, Europe,
Asia, Africa and America. Each group consists
of four figures, male or female, surrounding an
animal typical of the grand division represented.
Thus, Europe has an ox, Asia an elephant
kneeling, Africa a camel in the same attitude, and
America a buffalo. In each group one figure is
seated on the back of the animal, while in that
representing our own continent, two of the figures
are Indians.
The monument itself is of pure white marble,
with an open arch for a statue of the Prince ; its
base is an exquisite piece of sculpture, on which
I counted i6o full life-size figures, in high relief,
of the greatest artists and scientists that have ever
lived. The roof of the monument is heavily
gilded, and its arches and pillars brilliant with the
various colored stones with which it is inlaid ;
there are carnelians, agates, and others much
richer and rarer whose names I do not know,
half spherical in forn^i and some three inches in
diameter. Elegant and splendid as it is, I do not
136 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
find it perfectly pleasing ; there is to me a want
of harmony somewhere, like that of the right
thing in the wrong place. In grandeur I find it
far inferior to the tomb of Napoleon L, at Paris,
and it does not express the perfection of good
taste and appropriateness of Sir Walter Scott's
monument at Edinburgh. Perhaps the gilding
and brilliant-colored stones, contrasted with the
white marble, give it a touch of gaudiness we
should not feel were it covered by a temple ;
perhaps there is a vague sentiment that a mere
polished gentleman of high culture, who has yet
bequeathed to the world no fruit of genius, has
hardly a right to a Prince's place in the select
circle of the world's most brilliant minds, and that
though his death was a sad event in one happy
family circle, the four quarters of the globe would
hardly know the difference between his living and
his dying.
A few rods distant from the Albert Memorial
is the Albert Music Hall, an immense structure
which, though it looks well enough, is still more
remarkable for its size than for its beauty ; it is
a circular or oblong building, the construction of
whose roof was a problem for architects; finally,
exact measurements were taken, the roof was then
constructed — of iron and glass, I believe — and
afterward lifted and placed complete on the top of
the building.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 137
In buildings adjacent to this were held the
International Exhibition of last year, and here
we find the National Portrait Gallery of over four
hundred pictures, one of the most interesting
collections in the world, containing portraits of
everybody you want to see and some besides.
Here is Nell Gwynn in her rich ripe beauty; here
is the very handsome Lady Hamilton looking
over her shoulder directly into the face of her
friend Lord Nelson, hinting that the picture-
hanger had read history as well; the gentle figure
of Benjamin West, and the well-known face
of Benjamin Franklin are also here. Perhaps
the only unworthy artistic work is a profile
crayon of George Washington. Not far from
this building we find the Kensington Museum,
a very fine building of face brick, ornamented
with exquisite columns and carvings or mould-
ings, one end being beautifully inlaid with the
work of the pupils of the School of Art located
here. This Museum is so richly filled that
it would seeni easier to tell what is n't here
than to describe its contents. Here is porcelain
enough to build a crack hotel equal to our
" Palace ; " antique carvings in wood, ancient
tapestries, rich laces, old and new, and a large and
interesting picture gallery, where, among other
things, we find the famous cartoons of Raphael
transferred here from Hampton Court Palace.
138 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
This buildincr is also a center of schools of
Science and Art, and of normal training in these
departments. Some classes of the School of
Mines are held here, among others that of
Huxley, whose laboratories and class-room we find
at the top of the building, up ten flights of stairs, so
tiresome to ascend as to make him secure from
the intrusion of idlers. It seems strange enough
that two men so entirely unlike as Tyndall and
Huxley should have their names so constantly
associated as they are with us. Huxley has a
square and rather full face, with long, thick, black
hair beginning to turn grey. He looks pale and
sick and has the air of a man whose health is
irretrievably lost by hard work. He is the very
personification of modesty, and his studious life
betrays itself in his retiring, almost timid manner,
and a very short observation hints at his being
more at home among fishes than among men —
in his laboratory than in society. In conversing
with him I asked him if he did not think of some
day visiting our country to see for himself his
high repute with us. He thought the greatest
interest he should find in such a journey would be
to observe whether we really had the freedom of
which we so much boast. He was inclined to
think that, in fact, we had less of it than his own
countrymen, and that for all classes England is
the true home of liberty where each man finds
LETTERS OF TRAVEL, 1 39
himself protected in his independent position.
Ladies are seldom admitted to his daily classes,
but I was so fortunate as to receive an invitation
to attend one day when the subject was to be one
that would not be embarrassing in the presence
of ladies. He is so skillful with the crayon, that,
as if involuntarily and unconsciously to himself,
his hand creates, in the order of the development
he is teaching, bird, fish and reptile, and by the
time he has finished his lecture, without having
lost one second of time from speaking, he has
covered his blackboards with illustrations which
seem to have grown of themselves under his hand.
At the close of the lecture the students go to the
laboratory, where, in everything possible, they
work out for themselves the teaching of the lecture-
room. The class this Winter numbered about
twenty, varying in age from fifteen to fifty
years. The students think it requires a good
deal of courage to offer themselves for examina-
tion for a diploma in this course; and yet this is
but one course of study not more rigorous than
the others connected with this school, than which,
I feel safe in asserting, no other institution gives
a higher and more thorough education, and
perhaps the school is without an equal.
Professor Huxley has given one evening lecture
this season and but one, I believe, and among the
many distinguished men I have this Winter heard,
140 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
none drew so distinguished an audience as he.
The Duke of Northumberland filled the chair,
the Chief Lord of the Admiralty was seated beside
him, while Huxley, with his calm, earnest, yet
fascinating manner, seemed well worthy to be the
center of such an assembly of aristocratic and
intellectual nobility.
In this building we also find the National Art
Training School, for the systematic training of
teachers in the principles and practice of Art, in its
application to the common uses of life and to the
requirements of trade and manufactures. The
instruction comprehends all kinds of drawing,
painting and modeling, and includes relative sub-
jects, such as practical geometry and lectures on
anatomy as applicable to the Arts. The tuition
for a term of five months — five hours study by
day and two evening hours — is but five pounds.
Connected with this head department are nine
district schools of Art situated in different parts of
London, and in the whole United Kingdom there
are one hundred and twenty-six branches of
the Art school, in all of which annual examinations
are held, with a national competition for prizes.
In addition to the students of these schools there
are over six hundred nig'ht schools instructino-
20,000 students, while in 2,100 schools for the
poor 238,000 children receive instruction in draw-
ing. The school has a library of 25,000 volumes
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 1^}
on Art, a collection of 10,000 drawings and
designs, 20,000 engravings of ornament, 35,000
photographs of architecture, etc. General readers
may also be admitted to this library by the pay-
ment of a very small fee, and the books and objects
in the museum are lent to the different schools
throughout the kingdom.
The last school of Art that I visited at Ken-
sington, was the National Training School of
Cookery, This was established in 1874 with the
following objects in view: first, to qualify person^
to become teachers in other schools of cookery ;
second, to give instruction in the principles of
cookery to any person desirous to be taught ;
third, to send out lecturers on cookery to such
towns or institutions as may be willing to incur
the attendant expense. At present the whole
course of instruction requires four weeks' attend-
ance from 10 A. M. to 4 p. M. There are three
grades of cookery taught : first, that adapted to
the restricted means of the poor; second, to the
moderate means of the middle class ; third, the
preparation of dainties for the rich man's table.
There is a separate kitchen for each class of
cookery, and a lecture-room where the pupils,
ranged on elevated seats, observe and take notes
of the teacher's method of preparing and mixing
different ingredients. The lecture course extends
through two weeks, of which each day has a
142 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
different topic, viz.: one lecture on jellies and
creams, the next day on cookery for the sick-room,
etc. The fee for the complete course is six pounds,
concluding with a written examination and the
conferring of a diploma. The following is a con-
densed outline of the course :
First week, making and managing of fires,
cleaning of stoves, regulating ovens, cleaning of
pots, kettles, pans and tins, making yeast, bread,
and f cheap cake, clarifying lard, the difference
between boiling and stewing, etc.
Second week, simple cooking for families who
are poor, such as roasting, boiling, frying, etc., and
the best way of cooking canned or preserved
meats.
Third week, baking of all kinds of meat, pies,
cakes and puddings, boiling of soups, preparation
of broths for the sick, stewing of meat, frying of
omelettes, etc., and cooking of vegetables.
Fourth week, pickles, sweetmeats, sauces and
dainties. Among the eighty-three questions of the
last examination I find the following: In one
hundred parts of potato how many are water, how
many starch ? What kind offish affords the largest
amount of nutriment at the smallest cost? Which
is the simplest and most wholesome mode of cook-
ing food? Of beef and mutton, which loses more
in weight by cooking, which is more nutritious ?
If potatoes form the principal diet of a family,
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. I 43
what Other kind of food should be taken, and why?
What general rules for roasting meat — describe
process and time to be allowed for a leg of mutton
weighing nine pounds, ten ounces. What differ-
ence in the boiling of meat to be eaten and in
boiling it for extracting soup ? How would you
prepare a dish of fried cutlets and potatoes ?
Mutton broth for six persons, ingredients and
quantity of meat? Different methods of prepar-
ing beef tea, and how you would prepare it for a
patient ill with typhoid fever ? Describe the
process of making bread, melted butter, lobster
salad, puff paste, paste for the crust of a meat
pie. State the analysis of a potato, a mackerel
and a mutton-chop.
I read an abstract of a public lecture given by
one of the teachers of this school on the cooking
of potatoes. It was taught that if the skin be
removed before boiling, at least one-third of the
nutriment is lost, and in a country so thickly
populated as England, where the potato con-
tributes a large proportion of the poor man's diet,
the savine to him of one-third in food is an item
of greater importance than we, in our land of
plenty, can realize. It was also taught that in
washing the potato great care should be taken not
to bruise the skin ; it should be handled tenderly,
and the use of a soft brush was recommended for
the purpose. I might add that the necessity of
144 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
economy in food depends upon the large population
and limited territory of England, did I not recall
the almost indiofnant answer of a book-seller in
Chester whom I asked for a small map of England.
In a tone of half-rebuke and half-contempt for
my ignorance, he told me, "There could lit be
a small map of England!" The Cookery School
in London has, as yet, I am told, hardly served
the purpose for which it was intended, being to
too great a degree, thus far, a sort of fashionable
folly, where ladies who will never do the thing
again in their lives, go and scrub a square yard of
an already clean deal table or floor ; or young ladies,
note-book in hand, pass from one teacher to
another asking how to make an apple-tart or a
plum-pudding, and then go home with the conceit
that they are intelligent and accomplished cooks,
fully armed against panics in the kitchen.
London, February, 1875.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. I45
XII.
AVIGNON— THE YEAR OF JUBILEE.
DO N'T know how agreeable it is falling
asleep a nobody and waking up to find
one's self famous — the rare lot of a few
lucky mortals — but it is certainly very pleasant
falling asleep nowhere to wake up in a famous
place. That was the way we awoke one morning
in Avignon. We remained in London till there
was great danger of our becoming heathens,
fire-worshipers and idolaters of the sun ; so, for
the sake of body and soul, we were at last obliged
to bid adieu to that dear, grand and gloomy old
city, that eighth wonder of the world that doth
bestride the narrow Thames like a Colossus, per-
mitting, like its ancient Rhodian prototype, the
commerce of a world to enter within the portals it
so grandly guards. So we turned our faces from
this place, which had been to us a pillar of smoke
by day and by night, towards the blue sky of la
belle France.
As fast as steam will carry us we hasten on our
way, disdaining every temptation to stop, even
that of the inviting smile of beautiful Paris, and
146 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
victorious as the Prussians, with every mile over-
coming London lassitude and London smoke, we
travel, till, from utter weariness, we tumble out
of the cars and into the nearest hotel, scarcely
knowing and caring less, at what place we have
stopped. A few hours' sleep refreshes ; awaking,
we turn our eyes to the window, and the first
glance brings to our memory a whole panorama of
mental pictures which we have all our lives been
forming, of the curious narrow streets of the old
cities of Europe ; the front wall of the opposite
house is so near that we feel as if it were going to
move right up to our own, and- looking straight
in at our window stands the Holy Virgin with her
Babe as if ready to welcome us heretics with a
blessing.
Satisfied with out-of-doors, our eye returns to
the chamber within ; it is a spacious room ; over-
head, the wall is divided by immense beams into
three compartments, traversed longitudinally by
deep, narrow rafters, giving a singular effect of
light and shadow, more fully brought out by our
blazing wood fire of evening by whose light we sit,
while whole bookfuls of half-revealed fancies and
uncertain emotions flutter in our imagination,
responsive to the dancing blaze before us and
mingled light and shadow above us.
But what are those curious frescoes over doors
and mirrors, and hiding in recesses? Was Avignon
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 1 47
a secret retreat of the muses, or have the gods and
goddesses taken it into their heads to give us a
surprise party ? At any rate here they are. From
over the fire-place Jupiter and Juno, enthroned in
clouds and attended by the peacock, preside at the
social gathering, while Cupid as door-keeper is
playing his pranks over the heads of those who
enter this apartment ; Aurora hovers near the
windows, while Urania retreats to the opposite
wall, and Minerva and Thalia offer us a choice of
exit by the way of Wisdom or the way of Mirth,
The uncarpeted floor is, like all in the house, of
small, hexagonal bricks kept brightly colored and
polished by a mixture of vermilion and wax. We
pass out from our room into a long corridor, where,
at night, a sort of ghostly thrill runs through me
as I wander through the long passages whose stone
walls and brick floors give a sepulchral feeling to
the air, and whose darkness, but half-illumined by
the faint light of the candle in my hand, shuts in
again behind me as I advance.
It is a strange, impressive house, and, judging
from its size and its faded traces of magnificence
and grandeur, must have had a history ; but I can
only learn the fact of its having been a hotel for a
hundred years. As we look at the house from the
outside we are glad to see that we need not be
dependent on our neighbors for a blessing, for
right between the windows of our room is another
148 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
Blessed Vlrofin, and we are becrinnino' to feel
rather proud of our advantages in this line, when
we discover another close by, and as we walk on
we find almost every house ornamented by such a
statue, larger or smaller, and before we have half
made the tour of the cit)' we conclude that the
eleven thousand viro^ins of Coloi^^ne are on a
pilgrimage to Avignon.
Avignon is a curious place^a labyrinth rather
than a city. The passages through which we walk
are too narrow to be called streets. Sometimes
there is something like an elevated step taking the
place of a sidewalk, but it is too narrow to walk
upon with both feet, and, setting aside the awkward-
ness of gait, one soon tires of trying to walk with
one foot a dozen inches higher than the other, and
so resigns himself to the rough pavement.
The streets wind and turn in the most mysterious
manner, describing every kind of line and angle
ever drawn ; one gets hopelessly lost in less than
two minutes, and the only way to arrive at any
distant part of the city is to give up the attempt
and endeavor to return home. It is as delightful
a Sabbath morning as ever pious poet could wish
when we go out for our first walk in Avignon.
Two rods distant from our hotel we come upon
the market-place, a square, without roof, where
are displayed all the vegetables and fruits of the
season, sold by the coarsest-looking old women you
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 1 49
ever saw, but so strong that at night I shall see
them trundling their heavy lumbering carts from
out the line of wagons almost as easily as a delicate
woman could pick up a feather duster. Around
the market-place and in thebusiest street leading
from it are little tables two or three feet square,
from a framework over which hane branches to
which are tied various colored candied fruits and
bonbons. A few sous give you a chance to win
one of these. The game is gambling, the day is
Sunday, and if you have your child beside you and
give him the golden fruit, if he is an American he
will doubtless learn a lesson; but there is not the
least danger of anybody belonging to Avignon
ever falling into evil ways.
It is often easier to blunder upon the best than
to find it by searching ; and so, either by blunder-
ing or because all the streets of Avignon finally
lead to this spot, we soon find ourselves in the
open space called the Place du Palais, fronting the
palace built for the residence of the Popes, when
Avignon supplanted Rome as the Papal seat.
The palace is now used as barracks for soldiers,
quite a different branch of the Church militant.
It is built on the declivity of a solitary hill, whose
opposite side rises most abruptly from the banks
of the Rhone. Looking over the parapet on its
summit your eye falls for some three hundred feet
down a perpendicular wall of stone, part of the
150 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
ramparts of the city, and whose base is distant
from the river but the width of a carriage road.
Extensive gardens, belonging to the pubHc, cover
the summit of the hill and slide a little distance
down its sides. The highest part is a mound of
volcanic rocks, under which are grottoes from
twenty to thirty feet in height, from whose roofs
the water drops into artificial ponds ; it is ascended
by winding steps fantastically cut in the rocks,
from the top of which is the crowning view,
unobstructed in every direction and bounded only
by distant mountain ranges.
As you look the eye fills with tears at the beauty
of the scene before you. On one side below you,
the old city with its well-kept walls, then the
smiling plain with robe of verdure broidered with
winding silver streams, while
"Beyond this lovely valley rise
The purple hills of Paradise."
You turn to the scene behind you ; at your feet
the Rhone, or as they say here, the Two Rhones,
for the loner and fertile island of Barthelasse
divides the waters of the Rhone just opposite the
city of Avignon. Beyond the further bank of the
Rhone lies the old town of Villeneuve, where, when
you visit it, you will find the most interesting
feature to be the clatter of the hand-looms, weaving
silk, heard from within the houses as you pass
through its lonely streets — almost the only sound
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 151
that breaks the silence of the place. A high square
tower in ruins, called the Tower of Philip-le-Bel,
ornaments the town and is wholly in keeping with
the tout ensemble. Between Villeneuve and the
far, far horizon of snow-clad mountains stretches
a rich and fertile valley, while in the nearer
distance the undulating hills show whole forests of
olive trees, alternating with vine-clad slopes.
At the border of the gardens and between them
and the palace, is the church of Notre Dame de
Doms, whose legendary history connects it with
the name of St. Martha, sister of Lazarus the
friend of Jesus, and who, "the legend saith" brought
the Evangel of Christ to Avignon and founded a
church on this spot. But though profane history
contradicts this poetic fancy by proving that the
light of Christianity did not dawn on Avignon
until the fifth century after Christ, we know,
nevertheless, that this church has seen better days,
inasmuch as it has occupied the position of rival
to St. Peter's at Rome. Its tower is surmounted
by a gilded statue of Our Lady, crowning not only
the church but also all the landscape around, and
whose open hands are stretched out as if to drop
blessings on her faithful people. In front of the
church is a "Calvary," a round enclosure, where,
high-uplifted on a cross, is the crucified One, with
four angels kneeling at his feet.
Within the church many paintings are to be
152 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
seen, some of rare excellence. On the two sides
of the gallery are exceedingly fine portraits of the
ten Popes who reigned here, averaging seven or
eight years each. The furniture of the altars is
very rich, and all their wealth of gold and silver
is displayed.
As we are about to leave the church we meet at
its porch a procession of children which we soon
beein to think includes all the children in France.
As they pass into the church and before its
brilliantly lighted altars without stopping, we follow
them without, when lo! from the long, broad and
winding flights of stone steps leading up to the
church we look down on a sea of heads filling the
Place du Palais where, half an hour ago, a scattered
dozen were passing hither and thither. This crowd
is entering the square from two different directions.
What does it mean? It is the first procession of
the Year of Jubilee, which, occurring once in
twenty-five years, gives plenary indulgence to all
who join in three processions, each time visiting
four different churches.
For an hour or more we stand and watch them
winding slowly up the hill ; it is one of those quiet
days when heaven and earth are hushed and Nature
becomes a poem. The morning breeze holds its
breath, the sweet-scented flowers fill the air with
fragrant incense, and the trees of early Spring
gently drop their tributes of beauty ; Nature listens
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 1 53
in silence to the voice of worship, and tunes herself
in harmony with the scene. But the silence is not
all unbroken ; the hushed breeze trembles to the
sweet voices of a hundred maidens breaking into
joyful song, and, as the music swells louder and
louder, the heavens seem to rejoice m the gladness
of youth ; anon the gentle voices of a sisterhood
of nuns mingle soft chant and holy praise, and as
they pass, you look upon them half envying the
peace they seem to have found, half regretting
for them the joys they seem to have missed.
Schools of hundreds of sturdy urchins marshaled
by Holy Brothers — their instructors — repeat song
or prayer in unison ; pious women, friends and
acquaintances, walk side by side, each for herself
telling her own beads and saying her own prayers ;
religious societies of men, forgetful for the hour of
the world and its business^ have donned the garb
of their society to join in the solemn ceremony of
the day ; here are the Black Penitents, the White
Penitents and the Gray Penitents, each enveloped
in the domino of the color of his order, the hood of
the domino forming a long pointed mask falling
over the face and reaching to the waist, and
perforated only by two round openings for the
eyes. Rising above the heads of the procession at
short intervals are banners, statues, crucifixes and
other religious emblems. It was a striking scene,
this our first introduction to Catholic Europe, and
10
154 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
one never to be forgotten. Eye-weary we at last
turned our steps homeward, through streets Hned
with the still onward advancing procession which
that day numbered upwards of forty thousand
persons.
Avignon, March 1875.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 1 55
XIII.
AVIGNON— LETTER TO A FRIEND.
'7" was by mere accident that we first stopped
a few hours in this place to rest on our
way from Paris to Montpellier — the charms
and resources of which latter place are principally
to be found in gazetteers. It is sufficient to say
that going there with the intention of remaining a
month, we came away at the end of two days,
perfectly satisfied with what we had seen, the sense
of smell having greatly aided that of sight in
establishing in our minds the fact of its antiquity.
Pleased with the impression Avignon made upon
us in the few hours we had given to it, we decided
to return and here await warmer weather in
northern France. The whole city- — streets, people
and houses — is a museum and also a monument,
one face of which is inscribed with the story of its
Papal magnificence, when Avignon was the Rome
of the world ; the other is a souvenir of the loves
of Petrarch and Laura.
Of course it is impossible to remain here without
learning much of the ancient history of the Church,
156 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
Still more without hunting up all the local traditions
of the great poet. It seems almost as incredible
that Petrarch daily walked the streets we are
walking, and looked with a poet's eyes on this
lovely landscape of the valley of the Rhone, as it
is difficult to realize that we are in a city founded
six hundred years before the creation of the
Christian world.
I have spent many a pleasant hour perusing the
memoirs of Petrarch which abound here. The
inhabitants treasure his name and memory with
the greatest pride, and however well authenticated,
reject everything which does not redound to his
honor.
Thus vou will not doubt that in so delectable a
place, whose walls are of religion and whose
atmosphere is love, we find life very charming,
and the Old World richer in enjoyment than my
untraveled mind had pictured. The climate here is
very much like that of San P^-ancisco, with rather
greater extremes of heat and cold, but reminding us
of home by a little too much wind as well as by its
dry atmosphere and bright clear skies. As for the
people, when I tell you that the children have time
to play and to study religion, that the young girls
are all handsome, the women indifferent to fine
clothes and that the men apparently lead unanxious
lives, with large incomes of ease and leisure, I am
sure you will think it a California in the moral
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. I 57
world — a golden state of society — and I only wish
it might tempt you to seize your hat and dictionary
and hastily come to see for yourself.
It seems as if the fashionable character foreign
travel assumes in our day, somewhat veils from us
its greatest pleasures ; yet learning to enjoy more
and more every day its hard-earned pleasures — for
travel is labor — and strongly as I would urge you
to come and see how rich this Old World is, were
I to return as an apostle from Europe, it would be
to protest against foreign travel in some of its
phases, when young children grow up robbed of
home and country for the sake of speaking with
proper accent the language of other lands — their
birthright sold for a mess of pottage. You feel
somethinsr like diso-ust in hearinc: Americans boast
of having lost all national tastes and characteristics ;
but your patriotism is at first moved with indigna-
tion and then trembles with apprehension — when
parents proudly tell you that their children can
neither speak nor understand a word of their
mother tongue — lest one day our country totter, no
longer upheld by the love of her children.
But I did not mean to say all this, but rather to
tell you how our quiet life in this quiet place
passes in quiet delight. According to French
custom breakfast is not served until noon, which
gives us a quiet forenoon (after an early cup of
coffee brought to our room) for reading and study.
158 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
About two o'clock we go out for a promenade of
some two or three hours, when we sometimes
amuse ourselves by getting lost in the curious
narrow streets, and discovering some new old
church, or we go out beyond the walls of the city
and get the breath from green fields, or we read
awhile in the public library, or sit there and look
at the old fogies who seem to be its only visitors,
or visit the museum or picture gallery, or find
some novel entertainment in these ancient
by-ways. After dinner we spend the evening
practicing French with our charming landlady and
our charming landlady's pretty daughter, in whose
modest little parlor a circle of neighbors nightly
gathers. By the way, I do not find French so
universal a language here, as I expected — the
babies cry in good plain English — a hint from
Nature that the Eno;lish tono-ue is to become the
common language of the world ; and although the
patois of Provence is charmingly musical, the
purity of its accent is very different from my own.
Avignon, March, 1875.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. I 59
XIV.
AVIGNON— HLSTORY.
WONDER if any one once entangled in
the snarl of streets which make up Avignon
ever got out. At any rate, we are fairly
entrapped, and patiently wind our way in and out
and roundabout, reading the wonderful history of
the strange old place. There is no exaggeration in
calling it old, for Avignon was in the prime of
life when modern Europe was born ; it had reached
the respectable age of five hundred years when
Julius Caesar visited it, and if it possessed a
spy-glass it doubtless examined the features of
Hannibal as he passed near by, crossing the Rhone
with his elephants and horses on his circuitous
route from Carthage to Rome.
So here we are, sitting quietly down by the
walls of this ancient relic of the past, listening to
the tales she tells us, with that sort of reverence
which a grandam's reminiscences inspire — -and,
indeed, like a veritable and venerable old grandam
she is, seeming to have naught to do but to say
l6o LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
her prayers and tell her stories of the past ; and
those stones are thrillino- ones.
Is it hard to realize that the old man who daily
walks with measured steps before your door has
had a hot and fiery youth and a manhood of sturdy
resistance ; that between the golden sunlight
which colored the locks of the youth and the silver
starlight now reflected from those same locks,
there has been an iron age, when the iron has
been heated red and white, and molded by the
hammer of Destiny into the fixed form before you
which shall never change but in breaking? No
less hard is it to realize that this hushed and quiet
place has had a history equally remarkable, and
its experience seems to have been but the longer
story of a human life. It has a story of its own
in politics, in religion and in love, each and all
carrying us to the very height of the region of
ronlance.
The breath of life breathed into her nostrils
when Avisfnon was born must have been from the
lips of Freedom herself, and bitter and bloody have
been the struggles with which through centuries
her ever-republican spirit inspired her to resist
the powerful hands of various covetous masters.
Sometimes leading a separate and individual
political existence, sometimes divided between
different owners, sometimes uniting in revolt,
sometimes yielding under the hammer of internal
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. l6l
revolution to the besieging army who had in vain
battered its walls from without ; in the latter half
of its history taken by the Saracens, besieged by
Charles Martel, and ending an existence of 500
years as a republic by passing under the sovereign
rule of Toulouse and Provence, from whom it was
bought in the year 1348 by Pope Clement VI. for
80,000 florins in gold, and finally, in the year i 797,
relinquished by the Pope, it became a part of the
French Republic.
Its religious history rivals its political history.
First the Polytheism of the natives, which gave
place to Druidism brought here by emigration from
Asia ; here and there through the neighboring
country we still see the old Druid altars. The
latter religion took so strong a root that even to
this day, after so long a reign of Christianity, old
druidical superstitions still attach, in the simple
minds of the peasants, peculiar virtues to certain
spots, and give rise to certain superstitious
practices.
The next religion seems to have been one
where people worshiped themseK^es, for there was
developed a sort of military aristocracy which
abolished Druidism, and the Druid bards entered
into the service of these chiefs and sang their
praises. Under their control Avignon became so
formidable that it was able to arrest the first
Roman invasions of Gaul. Here too were built
1 62 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
temples to Hercules and Diana, and heathenism
finally gave way to Christianity about 1,300 years
ago.
At the present day Avignon appears veritably
one of the most religious spots in the world.
Here religion is the business of life. The churches,
•of which there are thirty, are never deserted, while
mass, vespers and benediction are pleasures not
willingly neglected. You cannot walk far without
coming upon a church, and if in company with
Avignon friends they will be sure to ask you at
least once during your walk to enter with them
while they kneel in prayer. Drive with them, and
often the word will be stopped on your lips as
you notice by their crossing themselves that they
are religiously improving the temporary silence.
Sit with them in the house, and during the
momentary lull of conversation your friend beside
you has slipped her beads from her pocket and is
filling in the odd moments with prayer. If not at
your own hotel, very likely at the neighboring
one, at the early morning hour you will see the
mistress of the hotel and the whole body of her
servants going in company to mass. Religious
observances have become second, or rather first,
nature with the people of Avignon, and few are
the people more thoroughly believing in their
religion, so consistently industrious in its practice.
The principle of obedience inculcated by the
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 1 63
Church is felt in society. "Will you sino- the
Marseillaise ? " I one evenino- said to some friends
who had been singing to us the songs of the
troubadors. ''C'esi defendu',' was the reply, and I
did not find it strange that the firing off of that
song in this nitro-glycerine nation should be
prohibited. Another time I asked, " Have you
read any of Dumas' novels?" "' C est defendu,'' was
again the answer, ending with the question in a
tone of astonishment, " Is it not prohibited among
you to read Dumas .'*" Now I want you to believe
that I held the reputation of my own country too
dear to tell these innocent people that with us the
surest way to secure the reading of a book would
be to prohibit it. Fortunately for the sale of
Dumas' works men are allowed to read them.
Avignon is a fortified city, entirely inclosed by
a wall about three miles in circumference, pierced
by nine different gates of entrance. The citizens
take great pride in these walls which they maintain
in perfect repair, and which are said to be the most
complete specimen of the military architecture of
the fourteenth century. The present walls were
built by the Popes during the Papal occupation of
Avignon, and were the labor of twenty years.
But at a very early period, long before the building
of these walls, Avignon was strongly fortified, and
even Rome herself believed it impregnable. It
is owing to the long and terrible siege which it
164 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
sustained a2:ainst Charles Martel, who had recourse
to every known engine of war to reduce it, that
its Roman monuments have mostly disappeared,
but yet its Museum contains a goodly collection of
Roman stones and statuary preserved, or from
time to time discovered beneath the foundations
of buildings. It seems very strange to be in a
museum of Roman antiquities collected from the
streets we are daily walking, and we begin to think
we are indeed getting near the borders of the Old
World.
Another curiosity, a most picturesque one it is,
is the remnant of the first bridge built across the
Rhone ; originally it was 782 feet in length and
was composed of nineteen arches, reaching from
the walls of Avignon to the walls of her opposite
neighbor, Villeneuve ; its width was only sufficient
for horsemen. It was built in the twelfth century
and was the work of eleven years. Tirtie, neglect
and the Rhone have almost destroyed it. Since
1669 there remain but four arches, which are now
kept carefully repaired ; the whole bridge was of
stone, and its arches are very beautiful ; from the
second arch is a small Roman chapel projecting
into the river ; in this chapel was buried St.
Benezet, its builder.
Tradition loves to strengthen its hold on the
human mind by fringing itself with superstitions
which entancrle our fancv and knit tOQfether
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. I 65
imagination and memory. Thus embellished comes
down to us the historv of this brid(Te. Benezet,
afterwards canonized, was a shepherd youth who
became the chief of a society of Freres Pontifes,
and who undertook and superintended the building
of this bridge. Tradition adds, that, tending the
sheep of his widowed mother on the Isle of
Barthelasse, he had a dream commanding him to
demand of the authorities of Avignon a bridge
across the river. To test the divinity of his
commission he was ordered to lift an immense rock
upon his shoulders and carry it to the river's bank.
As he accomplished this feat which seemed a
sentence of death, his dream was accepted as of
divine origin and obeyed.
In remote heathen ages of antiquity there were
societies or brotherhoods whom some one has
named the First Free Masons; they devoted their
lives to the building of bridges or pontes, and
they were called " Pontiffs ;" these " pontiffs"
always commenced their labors by solemn religious
rites, and thus the buildini^ of bridgfes came to
assume a sacred character. After the birth of
Christ and the establishment of the Romish
Church, the latter very wisely copied the useful
industries of Pagan ages and thus instituted like
societies of monks, who were to devote their lives
to the building of bridges and keeping them in
repair ; they journeyed along all the great rivers.
1 66 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
dressed in a lonf^ white mantle, on which a bridge
was embroidered in colored wool ; they were named
Fratres Pontijici — or Pontiff Brothers — and in
memory of these humble workmen we have to-day
the Pontiff of the Church of Rome ; thus the
Church has borrowed one of its hiorhest titles from
Pafjanism.
Though war with its terrible pen has badly
scratched the records of the Roman Empire, those
of the Romish Church are still plainly legible.
During the greater part of the fourteenth century
Avignon, instead of Rome, was the residence of
the Pope, and here stands the Papal palace-fortress.
This enormous mass of stone was the work of
thirty-four years, and the historian of the Cathedral
of Cologne calls it the largest and most complete
monument of the Middle Agfes, while an historian
of those Ages calls it "the strongest building in
the world." Rich as was its interior, its exterior
presented but plain walls of stone wholly without
ornament ; indeed it seems that, as in the colossal
Memnon, ornament would detract from its
grandeur. On one side of the palace, and winding
round into the lower part. of the town, is a street
hollowed out many feet deep in the solid rock. In
building the palace an arch was thrown across a
part of this defile, and a portion of the palace
raised upon it. It is, perhaps, from this passage
that one gets the most impressive view of the
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 1 67
palace ; but look at it from where you will you are
overwhelmed by its expression of massive strength.
There is no regularity in its architecture except
that of plainness ; its towers are unequal ; its
windows follow no regular line ; the stairways
pierce their way through the solid wall hiding
secret prisons in its thickness.
But what davs it has seen, when its interior
blazed with the gold of costly decoration and
displayed the colors of the masterpieces of the
great artists of the world ; when the Papal Court
made of Avignon a center of fashion and literature,
to which flowed a large population of every class,
seeking to enjoy the splendors of the Court or to
profit by the favor of the Pontifical Sovereign.
By the interior of the court of the palace one
reached the hanging gardens of Clement VI., upon
which opened superb saloons, and here he was
wont to receive the beautiful and noble ladies of
his Court.
It was dismantled of all these beauties in the
revolution of i 793, when such horrors were enacted
W'ithin its walls as those of La Glaciere. This
was a part of the palace, where victims, after a
mock trial, were dismissed through a door in the
seventh or eighth story of the building, from which
they stepped into empty space, and their bones
were destroyed by the action of a bed of lime
prepared to receive them.
1 68 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
To-day, In these once splendid halls, we see but
the rough furniture of the soldiers' barracks^ and
at the windows, instead of the benign face of the
priest solemnly blessing the people or bestowing an
unexpected pardon on some condemned criminal
passing to the execution of his sentence, we see
hung out to dry the parti-colored undergarments
of the soldiers.
Who would not feel the power of historical
association as he stands on this hill ? Once the site
of the Temple of Hercules and of the habitations
of its pagan priests, it looked down on the Roman
theatre built against the rocky side of the hill, and
the hippodrome whose actual site has been traced
by its ruins. Next we see it wearing the crown
of Rome and drawing to it the eyes of all
Christendom, as it shines, now resplendent in war,
now in luxury and splendor. To-day a picture,
curious still, as, standing before its ancient
Cathedral surmounted by its colossal gilded statue
of the Virgin, you look down upon the exercises
of soldiers drilling, drilling, drilling from morning
till night ; and as you travel throu^^h Southern
France and see everywhere this same persistent,
untiring military labor, you easily fall with the
people into a serious, thoughtful frame of mind,
your lips close in silence upon questions of the
future, but you think and think, and you feel that
every man around you is thinking.
Avignon, April, 1875.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 1 69
XV.
SAVOY— URIAGE—MT. CENLS TUNNEL— ITALY.
\E are going to Savoy," said we one
fine morning to our friends in Paris,
and we said it with a feeling of
self-complacency mingled, I fear, with a tinge of
self-conceit, as if — about to do something aside
from the usual line — we were showing a little
originality and a great deal of good taste. " To
Savoy }'' said a friend, whose kindness, refined
taste and mental culture had made his society
charming, "then by all means stop at Uriage — it
is at the entrance of Savoy, the door of Paradise.
Uriage is a valley whose charms are indescribable,
so unique in character as to be incomparable.
When the hand of God scooped out that lovely
valley, at His divine touch sprung forth every-
where life and beautv ; the mountains which
surround it are an unbroken picture of verdure,
where vine, field and wooded height rival each
the other's attractions ; there, far above your head,
the cattle feed, and at your feet are springs of life
and health. In the valley you remember, and love
11
170 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
more than ever, all your friends ; on the heights
you converse with God. When the disgrace of
Sedan mantled my brow with a blush of shame
which would not fade ; when, desperate and
exhausted by fruitless labors in my own humble
sphere, and no longer able to restrain my
indignation against those who no more merited to
bear the name of Frenchmen, I sought the plateaus
of the Alps — it was only at Uriage — where in
solitude, day after day, from morn to night, I
climbed the highest summits as if there I might
come nearer to God — that I at last found the
calm of which I had so much need, and the
courage to again take up life's duties and carry
them to the end. By all means, then, stop you at
Uriage, and permit me to offer you for reading
there some verses which the spirit of the scene
inspired me to write."
Thus we bade adieu to beautiful Paris with
much less regfret than we could have done had our
anticipations been less enthusiastic; and all the way
on our two days' journey we felt thankful that the
pleasures of the traveler were ours. On the after-
noon of the second day, as we were congratulating
ourselves on the commencement of our mountain
travel, a tempest arose; the thunder rolled, rolled,
rolled, from mountain to mountain, and of course
we had to quote Byron, who had told us all about
it, and our enthusiasm was not at all dampened by
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. I7I
the heavy shower. At last we arrived at Uriage,
and there we stayed three days, waitinj;^ in vain for
the pouring rain to cease and the clouds to lift
their impenetrable veil from the mountains. We
had a large, damp and uncomfortable room on the
ground Hoor of a house, whose original purpose I
am not sure of. I only know that the light entered
only by a glass door, outside of which were barn-
doors that we used to shut at nioht. On the mantel-
shelf was the fine French clock which you find
everywhere in France — even in the most ordinary
places. It is, however, never running ; this always
annoys me, and I have made it my regular habit in
going up and down, and back and forth, through the
country, to wind up and regulate all the clocks in
France, until I begin to be afraid of being a sort
of rival to Old Mortality. Besides the clock
there was an unpainted table, a bed and two chairs,
all at straggling distances from each other ; and
the boards of the floor looked aghast at the solitary
deer-skin, which seemed to dwindle to the size of a
mouse. Twice a day we waded through mud and
rain an eighth of a mile, to the house where the
table was spread, and once we ventured to the
baths — for Uriage is a watering-place famous for
its saline springs — and we thought we had never
seen a better, since it watered all the time. From
four o'clock each morning until nearly noon, every
half-hour a covered carriage stopped at our door,
1/2 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
to convey visitors to the baths, and we were
awakened by the voice of the driver shouting,
" En voiture, pour retablissenient, en voitiux, pour
les bains V as if it were worth while to pay for
being soaked in that place. In vain we longed to
see those inspiring summits, those mountain walls
in verdure clad, where our friend had tasted of the
healing plant ; the monotonous sound of the rain
was the only liivine whisper we heard, and the
persistent cloud shut out the heaven we longed for.
What should we do ? There we were, armed and
equipped with our poetry furnished expressly for
the occasion, and no prospect of our being able to
make use of it for days or weeks to come; for we
found on inquiry that the weather had been the
same nearly all Summer; moreover, we were told
by one of the guests — whom we had vainly tried
to persuade from her belief that the howling of a
dog was a fatal prophecy, but who most decidedly
answered that it must be true, for the thing had
happened in her house — that a famous astrologer
of Marseilles had foretold that the storm was to
continue nine days longer. Already we believed in
the astrologer, and, lest we should get to believing
in a good many other things, we concluded to take
our poetry and go in search of some place where
it would fit.
A few hours by rail brought us to Chambery,
which, though seen (or unseen) mostly by night,
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. I 73
made its own photograph in our mind. Our hotel
was built on the quay, the carriage-road, only,
intervening between the river wall and the house.
The river was the Laisse ; swollen by the recent^
rains, yet smooth for so rapid a stream, its black
waters as they rushed by seemed almost to shout
their music in our ears the whole nieht lonp-.'
Early morning brought me to the window, almost-
astonished that with such swiftness the river had
not run itself dry ; but there it still was, illustrating
the old simile, as, self-absorbed, it, hastened with
unslackened speed to the valley beyond. A week
later, however, the black, noisy river had shrunk
into a shallow, narrow stream, and had it been by
the Laisse that the classic sluggard laid himsell
down to wait for the river to dry up that he might
cross, he would not have been so foolish after all.^
The not distant neighborhood of the Mont Cenis
tunnel allured us from Chambery into Italy. Itis^
with an uncertain feeling of timidity or awe that
one enters upon his first passage through the
grand tunnel of the Alps. The engine labored
slowly up the steep acclivity, and miserly views
opened into wonderful valleys beyond and snow-
clad heights above, rendering us speechless as
the train almost staggered up the dizzy path. At
last we reached the Tunnel.
As we entered its darkness 1 took one hasty,
daylight glance around me, and as I looked at my
174 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
opposite neighbor his presence inspired me with
more courage than that of my right-hand neighbor;
for was not the former a fine old priest whose pro-
fession bespoke safe passage through the deepest
and darkest of tunnels, yet who showed that he
merited this world too, by the good use he made
of it; for did he not lovingly hold in his embrace
a goodly knapsack from, which protruded the necks
of two well-filled bottles, and did I not recall to
myself as I looked at him the story of the wise
virgin who took her oil with her? From the priest
and his wine-bottles my eye wandered to a notice
over his head, cautioning passengers against alarm
at any explosion they might hear, as, the tunnel
being under repairs, torpedoes were placed on the
track to warn workmen of the approach of the
train. The rest of the passage I spent in bracing
my nerves against the expected shock, and was
almost disappointed at not hearing a single explo-
sion. We were just twenty-three minutes in
passing through the tunnel, and the first five were
longer than all the rest. The first warning we had
of having nearly completed the passage was the
sight of a red glowing furnace through a semi-
circular opening; immediately afterward we flew
by another furnace, and then we knew — though
the illusion was the same in spite of our knowing
— that those red-hot furnaces were but glimpses
of the sun-lighted earth.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. I 75
At last we emerofed from the tunnel and looked
for the first time in our lives on fair Italy beneath
us. It would take another pen than mine to tell
you of that wonderful descent of the Alps; we
were without words, and could but clasp each
other's hands in silence. Soon tunnel followed
tunnel, near together as if to keep each other in
countenance for daring to be tunnels after the great
one we had just left; sometimes they so nearly
joined each other that we had but a short glimpse
as we hurried over some mountain torrent, foaming
and leaping almost perpendicularly down, down,
down, whither we could not tell; next we tremble
as the yawning chasm beneath the bridge we cross
frowns and threatens with the blackness of its
immeasurable depths. And so for many a mile we
rush through tunnel after tunnel, over chasm after
chasm, and mountain torrent after mountain tor-
rent, till closing day finds us far down the Italian
Alps. As we descend, it is the heights above us
rather than the lauQ^hino- fields below that draw our
eyes with irresistible power. It was our first
sunset in Italy; the mountains lifted their snowy
caps to salute the retiring sun; the dark shadows
slowly rose higher and higher, till their giant
forms rivaled the mountains in height ; the soft
clouds hovered in gentle beauty — half of earth
and half of heaven — and when the sun, reluctantly
and slowly, stooped and imprinted its final good-
176 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
night kiss on earth's brow, they blushed, and
blushing, hid in roseate beauty the now lonely
mountain top.
Turin, Aitgust, 1875.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. I 77
XVI.
MILAN— PALACE AND CATHEDRAL.
)JD you ever, when a little boy, find yourself
drawn right towards the place where all
sorts of things pleasing to the taste
appealed to the only two senses the old-fashioned
boy was supposed to possess, taste and smell ? And
did you ever in your impatience snatch at some
delicious morsel and bite into it only to drop it
from your mouth and run for a draught of cold
water '^ That was the way we last week took a
taste of Italy. It was so inviting, and, taking a
generous bite, our teeth came right down on the
Milan Cathedral. It was a luscious morsel, but
very hot, and we dropped it from our mouths and
are running away as fast as we can in search of a
draught of cool air. Italy is one of those places
of which one always hears so much that one
doubts if its charms be not exaggerated, and I
have always thought I should be quite content to
visit Europe without seeing Italy; but now I
should be almost content to visit Italy without
seeing the rest of Europe. To be sure we saw the
little we did see in the perfection of its natural
beauty; everywhere its full harvests just on the
eve of ripening, everywhere the unusual rains
178 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
having preserved a Spring-like verdure ; and then
its sky is all that poets say. Our California skies
have a brilliant clearness like the sparkle of a
diamond, but here, though clear, the same charm-
ing softness that envelops the earth pervades also
the sky ; landscape, sky and atmosphere seem to
be tempered with a poetic ideality wholly inde-
scribable.
Doubtless the contrast with France heightened
this impression, for the latter country, through
which I have three times traveled from north to
south, is of comparatively tame scenery, which the
gala costume of Spring flowers greatly improves.
I hope to be pardoned for finding a comparison
between the country and the people of France,
and saying that each owes a greater charm to Art
than to Nature.
" Art is man's nature ere the earth he trod."
In every other nation I have found some striking
physical beauty, as the complexion of the English,
and the almost universal perfection of the teeth of
the Italians, but the French seem to have done
with their men and women as with their f^ibrics —
sent their choicest specimens abroad. At home
they are all homely, for the most part even to
uirliness; but here comes in the charm of artificial
grace, and their perfect manners captivate you and
blind you to their want of beauty. A Frenchman
is born polite, and I have no doubt the first thing
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. I 79
a French baby does when a hat is put on his head
is to raise it, A French woman is born with all
the graces which more awkward nations must
acquire by years of training.
The Itahans, on the other hand, are a very hand-
some people; but here I may be prejudiced, for had
they not spoken I should have thought myself
among Americans, so much do they resemble us.
In northern Italy it is not the black, but the blue
or gray eye that predominates, with dark hair
and medium complexion. The first Italian word I
heard was " signora," and I thought it the prettiest
appellation that ever woman was addressed by.
The different titles of address make one of the
curious features of travel. I was amused in
Ireland at being called "your honor," the English
" missus," seems vulgar, the French " madame "
has an offensive resemblance to some Eno^lish
monosyllables, and the Italian "signora" is very
musical.
Our first stopping-place in Italy was Turin,
Victor Emmanuel's Capital when he was King of
only one corner of Italy. It is a clean and pretty
enough little city ; one of its principal features is
its large, paved and unshaded squares, which,
though they must be much healthier than the
usual narrow streets of Italy, are very uncomfort-
able to cross in the heat of day. Hie King's
palace is one of the roughest, homeliest and
l8o LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
most unpretending buildings, on the outside, that
ever was built for a palace, hardly handsome
enough for a stable; its interior is rich. The apart-
ments looked rather small for a palace, but the
frescoed ceilings and paintings were beautiful,
while the wood-work was, for the most part,
elaborately carved, and all of it was entirely
covered with gilding. One room — the private
salon, I believe, of the father of the present King
— had its walls entirely composed of panels fitted
together of Japanese inlaid work, like the beautiful
tables, cabinets, etc., so common with us ; the
heavy silk draperies of the windows were woven
expressly to match the paneled walls, and the
white drapery underneath was of silk, delicate and
transparent as lace; the beautifully frescoed dome
which made the ceiling, completed the original
style of the room.
The most memorable event of our stay in Turin
wasan evening spent with Moleschott.or Professori
Moleschotti, as he is called here, the great German
physiologist and apostle of modern rationalism,
author of the " Kreislauf des Lebens." He is
a splendid-looking, corpulent, fair-complexioned
German, with so charming a family that you
wonder he does not believe in Immortality from
the mere strong desire of loving and being loved
by them forever. He impresses you as a man of
immense intellect, but of still greater heart and
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. l8l
kindness, and I am sure he practices the profession
that he loves beyond aught else, with a tenderness
and sympathy which many a physician lacks.
Milan is a larger and finer place than Turin,
and we found it, too, a great deal hotter. We
selected a hotel near to the great Cathedral, in
order to see as much as possible of it during our
short stay there. Of course it is useless for me to
tell you what it is, for everybody has read some
description of this marble wonder of the world
with its two thousand marble statues on its
exterior walls; and if, by chance, any one has not
read of it, I should shrink from attempting its
description. I can only say that, however other
edifices have overwhelmed with their grandeur or
transformed themselves by the great associations
connected with them, this is the first structure I
have ever seen that represented the very spirit
of poetry, embodied and vivified ; it is the ideal
realized, and imagination can conceive nothino-
more beautiful, more perfect.
Although it was Sunday and mass was being said,
the custodians of the treasures of the Cathedral
were in attendance upon strangers, and we were
not obliged to await the close of service. After
seeing the treasures, of which I only remember
two life-sized statues of solid silver and several
busts of the same metal, all richly inlaid with
precious stones, an immense cross several feet in
l82 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
length of solid gold, some carved Ivory dating
from the fifth century and thereabouts, and any
quantity of sacred implements and treasures in
gold and silver, jeweled and without jewels, we
descended into the tomb or subterranean chapel of
St. Carlo Borromeo. The dimensions of this I
must guess at ; its walls must have been some
eight or nine feet in height, of which the upper
three feet were a cornice of solid silver, wrought by
the silversmith into pictures in high relief, for the
most part scenes in the life of the saint, one repre-
senting him in his ministrations among the dead
and dying at the time of the plague ; vertical
pilasters of silver separated the pictures and
descended nearly to the floor ; a silver altar stood
before the silver sarcophagus of the saint, and
we examined the whole by the light of candles
in the silver candlesticks of the altar, and by
torches held in the hands of the two Guards who
accompanied us. After examining the walls and
altar, the custodian, by turning a revolving handle
at the side, caused the wrought silver front of
the sarcophagus to descend, and there was seen
the coffin of plates of crown glass, with silver
trimmings, and the body of the saint inside; outside
were hung strings of rings and jewels offered by
visitors, many of royal rank ; among other things
a golden cross, the offering of Cardinal Wiseman.
The body presented the appearance of a brown
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 1 83
mummy, the features crumbling Into decay. It
was dressed in magnificent robes of cloth of gold,
gloves upon the hands, a large topaz ring on one
finger outside of the glove. Jewels upon jewels,
sacred and regal insignia, glittered around and
upon the body. Over his breast was suspended a
cross some five inches in length of large emeralds
set in QTold and valued at five millions of francs.
Over his head was suspended a rather delicate
crown of gold set with large rich pearls, said to be
of inestimable value. The work of the silver-
smiths, we were told, was given as a tribute of
love ; and without counting the labor, and the
value of the emerald cross and the crown, we
computed the value as given to us of the solid
silver and the other jewels, to be about three
millions of our dollars. As we paid our five francs
and ascended again, we found something inhar-
monious in such costly decoration of the tomb of
one who, when alive, sold all that he had and gave
it to the poor. We spent the sultry evening in
the open square before the Cathedral, without
bonnet, shawl or gloves, fanning and cooling our-
selves with ices as we watched the moon rise and
shed its silver light on the white glory of the
marble roof, with its hundred turrets and
numberless statues glistening in purity and beauty.
M I LAN, August, 1 875.
184 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
XVII.
MILAN— GALLERIA VITTORIO— ITALIAN LAKES.
\EXT to that great poem in stone, the
Cathedral of Milan, the object of most
interest to us there was the Galleria
Vittorio Emmanuele, and this interested the more
as I could not help thinking how well such a
promenade was adapted to the climate and wants
of our own city, inasmuch as it would shelter from
the wind and dust, be as light as the open street,
and serve as a brilliant evening promenade. The
Galleria is a section of two streets crossing each
other at right angfles, havino- thus the form of a
Latin cross ; it is entirely roofed over with glass,
and at its four entrances are arches ornamented
with statues and surmounted with frescoes repre-
senting respectively Science, Industry, Art and
Agriculture. It is the grandest and most beautiful
crystal arcade in all Europe, and its cost was about
a million and a half dollars of our money. There
are, in all, twenty-four statues; the arcade is three
hundred and twenty yards in length, and is, of
course, for pedestrians only; its pavement is a
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 1 85
mosiac of blocks of various colored marbles, laid
so as to represent a variety of designs ; the width
of each of the four promenades radiating from its
center is forty-eight feet ; the glass roof being at a
height of considerably over two hundred feet from
the ground; the center of the Galleria is an octagon
formed by the four arms of the cross alternating
with four intervening buildings, whose elegant
fronts are richly ornamented with statues and
surmounted by elegant frescoes which cover the
whole surface of the semi-circular upper stories of
the buildings, and represent respectively, Europe,
Asia, Africa and America. The designs of these
frescoes were all good, but of course that of our
own land interested us most. Of this the central
figure was America crowned ; at her left hand an
Indian with bow, arrows, etc.; between these two
a medallion bearing the profiles of Columbus and
Washington and their names around the margin ;
the face of America is turned toward the sea to
which her right hand points, and on whose shore
two negroes are rolling bales of cotton into an
open boat, while near them are growing sugar-
cane, tobacco, cocoa-palm trees, etc. The whole
picture is lighted by the rays of the setting-sun
seen in the distance beyond the open sea which
forms the horizon of the picture. Over this
central octagon rises a glass dome one hundred
and eighteen feet m height, and here it is
12
1 86 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
illuminated by a close line of gas-jets forming'
eight arches of light around the base of the
dome.
The off-branching streets are not less brilliant,
there being two thousand gas-jets in all. The
streets are lined on each side with building's four
or five stories in height, with elegantly orna-
mented fronts. The lower two stories of these
buildings are occupied as shops for articles of
elegance and luxury and as restaurants. Around
the central space under the dome, and also in front
of all the restaurants, are chairs and tables, where
you may seat yourself, and, sipping your chocolate,
coffee, or ice, watch the gay promenaders and
enjoy the out-of-door life of an Italian city.
From Milan we turned our faces again north-
ward, to the lakes Como and Maggiore, and here
we were drawn in by some circular tickets that we
supposed would be as convenient as other tourist-
tickets which we have sometimes found to save
much trouble. We tried to ascertain who gained
and who lost — those who traveled with them, or
those who traveled without them — and finally
decided that those who bought circular tickets
paid the most, while those who did not buy them
saved nothing, and the only advantage on either
side was that if you had not the tickets you could
stop where you wanted to, but if you had them
you could stop where you didn't want to.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 1 87
It is impossible to describe the effect of these
Itahan lakes, and I did not before know that earth
could be so beautiful ; only to see them makes one
feel "this is worth being born for; this pays for
having lived ; after such a dream of beauty it is
easier to accept the dreamless sleep which comes
to all." Were I to speak of the one impression
above all others which this beauty made upon me,
it would be of its unrealness. The wonderful,
indescribable softness and peculiar light, made me
feel as if the whole were some optical illusion, and
that were I to seek the opposite shore there would
be nothing there ; while the water before me was
not water but some mysterious element unknown
to human chemistry; and were I to write a poem
here it would be of some mortal gazing and drink-
ing in the strange beauty before him until he
changed into an ethereal being, and becoming one
with the scene, hovered evermore on the other
side of the boundary line between the real and the
unreal, luring each soul who came to drink of this
beauty to leave the realm of reality to forever-
more embosom himself in this loveliness, and
dream himself away into the spirit of eternal
beauty and eternal mystery. Doubtless this
extreme beauty is not a constant picture, and at
this time was the effect of excessive heat on the
atmosphere.
One can make the trip through Lake Como by
1 88 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
Steamer in about four hours; at the same time it is
one of the most alluring places to spend days, and
the arrangements are admirably convenient for
such loiterinof. Fine hotels and beautiful villas
ornament the encircling shores, which are one
continuous garden draped in the mingled gray
and green of the olive and the vine; they rise more
or less abruptly from the bosom of the lake,
from hundreds to thousands of feet in height,
dotted far, far up their slopes, often in seemingly
inaccessible places, with houses whose warm, soft
tints so harmonize with the landscape that it
seems as if the architect had stolen the moonlight
and dipped it in Italian glory for their coloring.
The steamer is continually interrupted in her
course by boats bringing passengers from the shore,
or coming to take others who wish to land, or for
the mail which I saw sometimes consisted of one
postal card and nothing more; thus embarking and
landing, landing and embarking at will, the trip
may be lengthened from hours to days, nor even
then seem long enough. Here, it being the fashion-
able season, we saw the elite and aristocracy of
Southern Italy, more particularly of Milan, passing
from villa to villa in interchange of visits, charming
their fellow-passengers with their gracefulness
and refinement. The Parisian taste in dress does
not excel theirs, and their quiet ease and elegance
of manner is very attractive. Their personal
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 1 89
beauty, however, did not on the whole, seem
superior to that of the common classes.
It was on Lake Luo-ano, a small lake between
Como and Maggiore, that I saw the most charming^
effects of light, even more beautiful than on Lake
Como; it was over this lake that I saw the full
moon rise and seem to hang stationary for hours,
as if even the planets stood, themselves arrested
in their course, to marvel at such a scene. The
little boats skimming back and forth over the
surface of the lake made a wonderfully pleasing
feature in the picture as I watched them from
the balcony of my hotel on the shore of the lake;
they were cushioned with a brilliant red, and bright
red flags floated from their stern, while the motion
of their oars made them look throuofh this atmos-
phere, which appeared to hang like a vail of magic
softness and fairy texture, as if moving by wings
of light from which dripped liquid emeralds.
On the diligence-road across the country from.
Lake Lugano to Lake Maggiore we saw our first
Italian way-side chapel, although way-side shrines
— niches with images of the Virgin — had become a
not infrequent sight. As we rode along in the
burning Summer heat, at the side of the road a
group of large trees made a thick, inviting shade; a
floor some two or three yards square of stone, a
rear wall against which was erected an altar, a roof
supported by pillars, one or two benches, and at
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the side, falHn^^ from the rocks above and making
the cool shade yet cooler, a mountain stream of
water, crystal-clear. What weary foot-traveler
could pass such a shrine nor stop to pray or praise?
Lake Maggiore is, as its name implies, the largest
of this chain of lakes, but I did not find it the
most beautiful; indeed, for my own taste, I always
find small lakes the more charming:. The larger
ones lose their lake character and take on an ocean
aspect. It is not the traveler who always finds the
sublime unmingled with and far apart from the
amusing and ridiculous; and thus, on this lake,
while my eye was charmed by the former, my ear
caught a strain of the latter. The unusual sound
of English words arrested my attention, and,
turning, I saw a fine-looking, gentlemanly, and
evidently well-educated Mulatto talking with one
of the fairest blondes I ever saw; the latter was
proclaiming the merits of homeopathy and the
immunity from fever which one might enjoy in
Italy by the use of her "big box" of remedies.
Her gentleman acquaintance, who, perhaps by the
law of contrasts, evidently admired her fairness as
much as I did, said that he found himself quite
yellow and thought he must be bilious and asked
her advice as to the use of her remedies in his
case. A friend at my elbow who has no great faith
in Hahnemann's creed, suggested that all the
white homeopathic powders in the world, dissolved
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. IQI
in the multitudinous waters of Como and Maggiore,
* would fail to change his bilious complexion to
Caucasian clearness.
The Borromean Islands of Lake Maggiore,
which all the guide-books hold out as a tempting
bait to travelers, present nothing which allured us
to stop; artificially terraced gardens which we
could see verv well from the steamer, and chateaux
with inferior picture-galleries, tend to make them
a sort of catch-penny affair for the benefit of the
boatmen and hotel-keepers, but unworthy of the
attention of any one but the excursionist of a day
or two. In Italy at this beautiful season, merely
to live is a luxury beyond description; there is no
prompting to effort, for one can wish for nothing
more; resting in elysium he breathes in bliss, and
for the first time knows all the meaning of dolce
far nierite.
Lake Maggiore, Attgitst, 1875.
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XVIII.
SWITZERLAND-LAKE LUCERNE— LAKE GENEVA.
5 lonp- as the world has a Switzerland
so long will men be travelers ; and
whatever other routes may be opened
and become " the fashion," Switzerland will never
be neglected, even though its inhabitants do their
best, or worst, to bring about such a result. Once
having seen Switzerland, you wonder not that the
Switzer sometimes dies of homesickness, but rather
that he ever oudives it. It is not in the unrivaled
beauty of each separate feature of the country, but
rather — considering first its lakes, which are indeed
to a landscape what the eye is to the human coun-
tenance — in the perfect combinations covering,
unbroken, so wide an extent ; for Switzerland,
small as it is, is not seen in a day, and nowhere
does the eye rest on tame or commonplace scenery;
beauty becomes the rule instead of the exception,
or rather both rule and exception, for it covers
the whole ground, and at last the eye feels itself
satiated with beauty. There were so many lovely
spots here where I wished I could spend a Summer,
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 1 93.
that I might as well have wished life to be all
Summer and know no end. I was several times
asked in Switzerland my opinion of the relative
beauties of our country, more particularly of
Yosemite and Switzerland. I found that Cali-
fornians particularly had done us justice, indeed to
such an extent that I could afford to tell what I
truly thought ; and as I am only one in many,
and as there must always be two sides to a
story, I frankly acknowledged that I should rank
Switzerland first.
At Chambery we saw a fountain, original in
design, that had been erected to a native of the
place, who, having made a large fortune abroad,
returned home to divide it with his fellow-citizens ;
the central column, of considerable height, was
surmounted by a memorial statue, while from the
four sides issued four elephants, half of their
bodies being in sight and each throwing a stream
of water from his trunk.
From Annecy to Geneva we took our first ride
in a genuine Swiss diligence, and at the time we
thought it better than rail or boat ; but the shady
side of the vehicle and the roads freed from dust
by recent rains, made the journey unusually
agreeable. As we entered Geneva we could not
help smiling at the sign of " Christ, Tailor," even
after our Parisian experience, where, besides the
" fur store to the Infant Jesus," there are thousands.
194 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
of Others of every kind, each dedicated to some
saint.
It is of no use to tell of the blueness of the water
of Lake Geneva, for however blue you may think
it, and that in your bluest mood, when you come to
see it you will find it still bluer than your thought.
It is so blue that it almost seems to reflect a tint
of its coloring upon the surrounding landscape.
An excursion on Lake Leman was one of those
disappointments which the European traveler
thinks himself unusually lucky to escape, and the
freedom from which is, one of these days, going to
make California the tourist's paradise. There was
a pouring rain, and the clouds almost entirely
obscured the shores, while the mountains did not
even wink at us. By the time we reached Chillon
the weather cleared up, but I lost my visit to the
Castle of Chillon by switching off, in as Byronic a
manner as possible, all alone on the wrong train.
As I was without money or credit I could do
nothincr but s^et out at the first station, and
wait for reinforcements. Meanwhile I made the
acquaintance of an old lady from Berne. As I
was placing some flowers between the leaves of
my guide-book she asked me if it was my Bible.
I felt tempted to tell her it was the traveler's Bible,
the light and guide of his life. She had learned
considerable touching the war of the dis-Unitf^d
States of America, as she called them, and she
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 1 95
explained to me the great sufferincrs of the negroes
since deprived of the protection of their masters ;
but when I told her how much more her son, the
depot master — of whom she was very proud — •
could earn in America, she began to think it would
not, after all, be so bad, were it not for the hyenas,
tic£ers and lions in the streets of its cities, I
thought she already knew enough, so I said nothing
of our San Francisco bulls and bears.
By the time we reached Interlaken, so often
called the gem of Switzerland, we had lost all
power of comparison between beauty and beauty ;
we felt that we ought to get up a little extra
enthusiasm, but we had long since been filled to
overflowing with all that springs from the contem-
plation and enjoyment of natural scenery, and we
could only return a calm assent to Nature's con-
tinued appeal to our admiration. The Falls of
Giessbach, just beyond Interlaken, did not tempt
us to tarry, particularly as we had a pretty good
view of them from the steamer, and saw by the
volume of water that, like many of the famous
waterfalls of Europe, it was made more of land
than of water. Near Killarney, in Ireland, was
one waterfall without any water at all; it was kept
locked up beyond a gate, and at the time of our
visit its keepers showed the rocks over which it
fell when there happened to be any water, as they
assured us there sometimes was.
ig6 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
From Brienz, on the opposite shore of the lake
from Giessbach, we crossed the country to Lake
Lucerne, by the mountain road of the Bruning
Pass. Going in a Httle open carriage, we enjoyed
through the whole distance an uninterrupted view-
in all directions; and had we the picture of this
single drive by itself alone in memory, it would be
sufficient to refresh the weariness of many a labor-
filled day. As we neared the summit, the Jungfrau
smiled upon us in great benignity; one can see
she is getting along in years, for her snowy curls
rivaled in whiteness the purity of her brow ; and
she looked as serene and bright as some of her
mortal sisters, so many of whom we all know and
love, those a/^e yuno;fra2icn sharing and dis-
pensing their sunshine, but generously vailing
from others their darker and sunless hours.
From Lucerne we made the assent of the Righi.
Three-quarters of an hour by steam-boat carried
us to the Righi side of the lake, whence we took
railroad up the mountain. The road is built on an
average ascent of one foot in everv four feet, and
the trip to the summit is made in about an hour
and a half. To each eng^ine there is attached but
one car; this has the sides almost wholly of glass
and it carries about seventy persons. In ascend-
ing, the engine follows the car and pushes it up ;
descendinc:, it holds it back. Besides the ordinary
wheels, there are wheels of cast steel running
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 1 97
under the middle of the car ; these wheels are
cogged, catching into corresponding cogs of an
underlying cast steel rail, thus holding the car and
making its progress sure and safe. The engine
stands at a very slanting angle, giving the impres-
sion that it keeps late hours. The traveler's feel-
ing of security is mingled with a satisfactory touch
of awe as he crosses two or three deep and wide
ravines yawning under the seemingly fragile iron
bridges. The mountain is six thousand feet high,
and the view becomes finer and more advantage-
ous on account of its isolated position at the
extremity of a mountain spur. From its summit
is a view three hundred miles in extent, and here
"Where Alpine solitudes ascend,
We sat gs down a pensive hour to spend,
And, placed on high above the storm's career,
Looked downwards"
on one side upon the country spread out like a
map whereon the distant rivers were drawn in
distinct lines, the woods and forests contracted
into black patches, and thirteen blue lakes looked
up into our eyes, the nearer ones reflecting back
the clouds over our heads, while the steamers on
the lakes looked like miniature boats. On the
other side the view is entirelv different, for here
you look across and upwards to the pinnacled
mountain tops, whose sierrad ridges surprise
you with their sharply-cut lines ; many of the
summits are covered with snow, while between
198 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
them in their higher depressions, five or six
glaciers spread out their fields of everlasting ice.
Once more at the foot of the mountain, we
strolled around the Villaofe of Vitznau which Qrave
us one of the prettiest little incidents of our
travel. Entering the quiet church, which of itself
was quite original, we startled two little birds
that had built their nest over the arch in front
of the chancel ; they flew hither and thither in
the greatest dismay, twittering forth notes that
sounded half-appealing, half-remonstrating. It
was almost wicked so to alarm them, and we
staid but to repeat with the poet :
" Gay, guiltless pair,
What seek ye from the fields of heaven ?
Ye have no need of prayer,
Ye have no sins to be forgiven.
"Why perch ye here
Where mortals to their Maker bend ?
Can your pure spirits fear
The God ye never could offend ? ''
I wish I could finish my letter by saying that
in this land of beauty man is superior to Nature,
but instead, I have only to repeat the universal cry
of tourists against the dishonesty of almost every-
body into whose hands one falls, from the landlord
to the bootblack and the porter. We met several
parties who said their whole tour in Switzerland
had been spoiled by the annoyance of continued
imposition, and two or three parties who had
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 1 99
made the trip around the world said they had
nowhere found anything to equal it. The Ameri-
can Consul at Zurich told us that he himself had
been connected with several lawsuits where suf-
ferers had determined to sue for justice from the
legal authorities, but that in no case was it possible
to obtain it, for every Swiss will swear to anything
his next neighbor demands, and in a court of
law the word of the meanest villain native born,
is believed in preference to that of the most
respectable foreigner. He told us of one man,
who, on remonstrating against a very exorbitant
bill, was kicked down the stairs, bruised, and his
clothes torn ; going to law he was put off week
after week till the adjournment of court, when he
again returned to the charge, only finally to be
refused redress; at the time we were there he was
still in town, armed with a club, watching for a
chance to take at his own hands the redress he
had vainly claimed at the hands of the law. For
our own part we had the experience, after hirino-
a carriage for a certain place at a certain price, of
being told by the driver when he had gone three-
fourths of the distance and had reached a point
where we could not help ourselves, that he would
go no farther unless he were paid more than the
price agreed upon. Having a trunk with us there
was no help but to promise compliance ; arrived
at our destination we sought protection from the
200 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
imposition, but were told by the local authorities
that if we dared to bring the case to trial, we
should have it decided against us and be made to
pay a great deal more. It was for this reason that
we applied for information to the Consul and were
told by him that in Switzerland justice does not
exist.
Geneva, Auf^ust, 1S75.
The Swiss Government expressed great indig-
nation at the first publication of the above facts;
it is to be hoped their indignation extended to
the facts themselves, and that in the years since
intervening, the relation between tourist and
resident has been established on a more honorable
basis. Switzerland's scenery is her business
capital ; she has built the finest roads, the most
elegant hotels; from these she must gain in
three months of the year enough to support her
population twelve months; hence, tourists ought to
pay a larger tax on their pleasure here than else-
where; this they willingly do; in return, they
demand as average fair-dealing as human nature
is capable of with the unequal conditions of
leisurely business plans of the host at home,
and of haste and quest of pleasure of the guest
abroad.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 20I
XIX.
THE RHL\E— COLOGNE— BERNE— STRASBURG— HAMBURG
'^F you are comfortably settled at home and
want to visit Europe for nothing more
than to see the Rhine, take my advice, stay
where you are, shut your eyes and imagine it to
yourself ; and if your imagination does not allow
you to build more castles than the Rhine ever had,
and if they do not fall into ruins more complete
than those of the Rhine ever did, your experience
must have been exceptionally free from illusions,
and your landed estates far from Spain. I
acknowledge that three preceding nights devoted
to entomological pursuits, and a cloudy, windy
day, do not best fit one to do justice to any
landscape ; and, seen direcdy after Switzerland,
the banks of the Rhine lose by comparison ; it
should be seen first. But if nothing but its actual
sight will satisfy you, by all means come within
the next hundred years, for the finger of Decay
and the tooth of Time are fast destroying these
antique ornaments which the river has for ages
13
202 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
been so proud to wear as a girdle, and in a century
from now the tourist on the Rhine will hardly be
able to discover even the ruin of ruins. But one
only of these castles, so far as I know, has the
hand of man sought to reclaim from the ravages
of Time ; this is the Castle of Stolzenfels, restored
by the Prussian Government and converted into a
museum. The castles are less numerous, though
hardly less picturesque, than I had thought ; and,
though there are many spots whose wildness
impresses, and many more whose beauty charms,
yet I must say I found the Rhine not equal to its
reputation.
As wild a spot as any was the Lorelei, where
the river, between two abrupt turns that it makes,
forms a sort of parallelogram, on one side of which
the land rises high and very steep, and on the
other an almost perpendicular rock some five
hundred feet or more in height. The echo
naturallv reflected from this rock has ofiven rise to
the poetical fiction of the siren dwelling here and
singing such enchanting strains that he who listens
lingers, and he who lingers is lost ; lured by the
weird music, he throws himself into the bosom of
the river, as if it were into the embrace of the
enchanting spirit.
But if the scenery around it was somewhat
inferior to what I had imagined, the river itself
was superior. It is a grand old river, and worthy
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 203
to be called Old Father Rhine ; but here, again,
it fails to find in me a worthy praise-giver, because
I so little love the water that the less in body the
more beautiful is it to me, and if the Atlantic
Ocean were not more than half as wide as it is I
should like it much better ; and I believe there are
many others whose fancy it would equally satisfy.
We followed the Rhine from its falls — the Falls of
Schaffhausen — to Cologne. To see the Falls of
Schaffhausen you are not to go to Schaffhausen,
because there are no falls there, but to Neuhausen,
where are a number of hotels, with beautiful
grounds near to and overlooking the falls.
One who knows our great American waterfalls
will hardly find grandeur in anything of the same
kind in Europe ; but the falls of the Rhine,
divided into three parts by isolated pillars of rock,
extending from bank to bank between two-hundred
and three hundred feet, and fallinor over seventv
feet, are not insignificant even to an American,
while they have a more than usual softness and
gracefulness of character which wins your
admiration, as does a womanly woman, whose
loveliness and grace make her complete nor leave
room for you to wish her greater or stronger,
bolder or more ambitious.
Voyaging down the Rhine we passed Bonn
about sun-set; the wharf was decorated with
banners, and full-loaded boats were steaming away
204 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
to the salute of cannons on shore. It was the
celebration of the victory of Sedan. It is, I
believe, as yet hardly decided on which of two
days this anniversary shall fall, consequently we
found Cologne the next day in the same holiday
attire ; the streets were almost invisible from the
number of flags extended across them from house
to house, and very beautiful was the sight of the
many different banners, and very prominent was
the black eagle of Prussia. We tried to find
out at the hotel some particulars of the day's
programme ; the waiters did n't know ; they
guessed it was a celebration, because the flags
were all out ; they certainly did n't care much
whether it was a celebration or not, and they
did n't care at all what it was about. We went
outside and made our inquiries, going to Cook's
office for tourists, where different languages are
spoken, and where it is their especial business to
know whatever of interest to the stranger the
place presents ; but they knew as little as the
others. Perhaps there was going to be a
procession ; perhaps there was going to be a
meeting and speeches ; perhaps there was
something in the newspapers about it ; and we
thought, perhaps among such a stupid set of
people a celebration would not amount to much,
and we would trouble ourselves no more about it ;
but we also queried to ourselves whether, in this
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 205
Catholic city, some want of sympathy with the
anti-CathoHc government might not have some-
thino- to do with this, indifference.
Seeing a notice of an international horticultural
exhibition, we took a ferry-boat across the river
to the Winter Gardens, These are admirably
arranged ; they are large houses of glass and iron,
surrounded, of course, at the present season by
beautiful Summer grounds. Within the glass
houses, besides a bountiful display of smaller
plants, are large trees and galleries with railings
draped in growing vines ; from the roof are
suspended large crystal chandeliers ; in the
galleries are places for bands of music and
spectators ; on the ground floor, extending
nearly around the inclosure, are long tables for
refreshments, where we were served with as fine
a dinner as the best hotel could afford. Near us
at the table sat two twin sisters with their
husbands, evidently twin brothers ; the sisters
looked so much alike you could hardly tell one
from the other, while the resemblance between the
brothers was almost as great. To make the sight
more striking, the sisters had the most peculiar,
bright, carrot-colored hair, as brilliant as a glowing
furnace ; added to their natural abundant locks
they seemed to wear false hair also, which I am
sure each must have cut off and sold to the other,
for all the hair dealers in the world could never
206 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
match it. After they had left the table, a German
sitting opposite said to his friends, "A single pair
of twins is nothing, but two such pairs is o^anz
net.''
The horticultural exhibition was the rarest
assortment and most perfect collection of plants I
have ever seen, and I never expect to see another
equal to it. There were contributions from every
part of Europe ; every plant, even the most
delicate, looked perfectly healthy and vigorous,
and there was not one fading leaf. I cannot think
of the houses of ferns and of tropical plants without
wishing every lady in the world could have seen
them ; for these latter plants the glass houses were
almost covered with blue paint, thus producing a
shade almost like that of umbrageous tropical
groves.
Of course we saw the Cathedral of Cologne, for
we could not leave our hotel without almost
stumbling upon it. Why some Woman's Rights
Convention does not bring up this Cathedral as an
instance of man's incapacity to work alone, I do not
know ; but here these men have been at work six
hundred years building one house, which is not
yet finished, and it looks as if it would cost more
to replace the stones first i)ut in, and now decayed
— a work of repair which has been extensively
done and is still going on — than to finish the
building, which is approaching completion. Its
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 20/
outside looks immense, and it is advantageously
situated, isolated and on rising ground, but its
interior, though vast, seemed so much smaller than
its exterior that I could hardly believe I was
within the colossal structure I had been gazing at
from without.
Since having seen what a long job this has been,
and that it is likely to last some time yet, it has
occurred to me that the line learned when a
child,
" Satan always has some work for idle hands to do,"
referred to the work on the Cologne Cathedral,
and the legend connected with it warrants the idea.
Its first architect applied to Mr. Satan for a plan
superior to any other that should be produced,
promising his soul in payment ; according thereto
the plan was furnished by the said S., but the
Church hearing of this transaction felt itself much
scandalized and soucjht redress at the Court of
Saints. St. Ursula, on being consulted, advised
that the thigh bone of St. Peter be brought from
Rome, asserting that whenever the devil should
claim his due, by striking him therewith he would
retire abashed. Whether it is always the case or
not, it seems that for once this person was near
when his name was mentioned, and, getting angry
at what he heard, as many a listener since has
done, he snatched the plan from the architect,
declaring to the latter that his name should never
208 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
be known in connection with his work, and that no
man should ever be able to carry out the plan.
Since the last two things are facts — namely, that
the first architect's name is unknown and that it
has been the puzzle of centuries to decide what
plan of completion would harmonize with the
commencement of the cathedral — it is probable
that the whole story is true.
In recognition of St. Ursula's services Cologne
has built a church to her, and in it you may find
her bones mouldering away in company with
those of the eleven thousand virgins of Cologne.
Before reachinor the Rhine we went to Berne, the
Capital of Switzerland, and of course saw the bears,
from which animal the city is said to have been
named, and several of which have for hundreds of
years been kept at the public expense for the public
amusement. A stranger coming here is not
supposed to have seen Berne unless he has seen the
bears of Berne, and it looks as if half the contents
of every shop in the city was bears ; bears daintily
carved in wood, bears rudely cut in wood, bears in
gold, bears in silver, bears in gingerbread, bears
in candy, bears for charms, bears little, bears big,
bears on the churches, bears on the fountains,
bears everywhere. Around the open subterranean
inclosure where the bears are kept, and into which
one looks down from the street, are women who
make their living by selling to visitors morsels of
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 209
food to throw to the animals. Berne has also a
puppet show on its clock tower. The tower is a
square massive structure, once forming part of the
ramparts of the town but now in its center, and
the rotary toy-works upon it look about as much
in character as would a jumping-jack in the hands
of a respectable, staid old giant. The performance
occupies some three minutes, terminating with
the striking of the hour. First a cock flaps his
wings and crows, then a procession of bears issues
from the tower and passes before a central figure,
probably Old Time himself; then something else
occurs, and finally, as the clock strikes, the figure
on the throne turns the hour-glass in his hand and
gapes at each stroke of the bell.
The older portions of many of the old cities of
Europe are built with arcades ; that is, the second
and upper stories of the houses project over the
sidewalk even to its outer edge, being supported
by columns. Thus the sidewalk is a covered
promenade, on a level with the ground floor that
is usually occupied by shops. One peculiarity of
the ancient city of Chester, in England, is that the
houses have two stories of arcades, and thus two
streets of shops, one above the other. In the
arcades of Berne the front wall of the upper
stories is supported by arches unusually low, the
buttresses between which are very massive ; this
must render the shops and walks generally gloomy
2IO LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
and dark, but in a bright, hot Summer day, like
the weather during our visit, it is deHghtfully cool
and refreshing to walk through them.
We should hardly have cared to look at the
Cathedral of Strasburg — cathedrals are getting to
be such common things — had we not been anxious
to see what injuries it had sustained during the
Franco- Prussian war. At the first glance we said,
"Why, it has not been injured at all;" but a
higher glance upward discovered empty window-
frames and shattered pinnacles, though not to the
extent we had anticipated.
At "fair Bingen on the Rhine" we were
interested less in the banks of the Rhine than in
the Bank of California, the news of whose failure
we learned there. We would have taken out our
purses and counted our money had we known
how, but all we could do with money there was,
when a bill was presented, to take out money and
tell people to help themselves. Prussia has
adopted a new decimal monetary system which is
very simple and is to become the only currency.
Such was the coin we had, but it had not yet come
into use in this part of Prussia, and the people
knew the value of our coins as little as we knew
theirs. It seemed quite consistent with her years
when one puzzled old woman said to us, " Ah !
the old way of doing things was much better."
On the opposite high banks of the Rhine,
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 2 I I
overlooking Bingen, a fine allegorical monument
is to be erected in commemoration of Germany's
victories during the late war.
From Cologne we pushed forward to Northern
Prussia as fast as steam would carry us. Bremen
peeped in at our car window with a clean, bright,
smiling and inviting face, but we shook our heads
and pointed to Hamburg.
At Hamburg the first thing that struck us was
the air and manner of the people, which we put
down as the characteristic manner of a commercial
sea-port. The people did not, as elsewhere, stare
at us as if they wondered what strangers were
doing there, but, if they regarded us at all, it was
rather with an abstracted, self-absorbed air, as
if accustomed to think of things far distant,
while their brisk, quick gait and business manner
was almost American. Hamburg is a beautiful,
handsome city, and everything in it impresses as
belonging to a wealthy city that has at her
command all the luxuries, refinements and pleasures
of modern civilization.
It was at nine o'clock in the evening that we
left Hamburg to take the cars for Kiel, whence
a midnight steamer was to take us further north-
ward. It is one of the delights of traveling that
you can always start at any hour you do not want
to, and it is the fashion up here in the north of
Europe to put to sea at the twelfth hour ; another
2 12 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
of these delights is that one can eat at almost
any hour except when he is hungry, and as for
sleeping, he is a poor traveler who cannot sleep in
any position or catch a nap between the cup and
the lip. Walking from the hotel to the railroad
station, Hamburg presented one of the prettiest of
scenes by gaslight. We passed by coffee-houses
and beer-gardens, with their occasional music and
colored lights, and then came to a bridge crossing
a large basin of water formed by the Alster, a
small river on which, as well as on the Elbe,
Hamburg is built. This sheet of water is an
irregular square over a mile in circumference ;
handsome stone quays form its banks on which are
built fine hotels and palatial residences, many of
which were brilliantly lighted, the lower stories
particularly, which came down near to the water's
edge and were so bright as to look almost like a
wall of fire. The water was as smooth as trlass
and, mirroring- the whole scene and revealinor the
little steamers and boats hiding away in its
shadows, was like an illuminated lake. Thouirh
enjoyed only during our hurried walk, the scene
made as distinct a picture in our minds as ever the
sun's rays photographed, and Hamburg as she
looks by gaslight we shall long remember.
Hamburg, September, 1875.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
213
XX.
DENMARK- COPENHAGEN— THE OLD MARKET PLACE—
THE HOLMENSKIRCHE.
HERE 'S nothing rotten in Denmark ;
it 's sound all around and healthy at
heart," is what you would have said
had you traversed it with me by land and by water.
In a little more than twelve hours we made the
journey from Hamburg to the capital of Denmark.
Leaving the former place at nine p. m., we arrived
by rail in Kiel in time for the midnight steamer,
which brought us to Korsor, on the southwestern
coast of the island of Zealand, in half-a-dozen
hours ; thence we again took rail, and before noon
had crossed to Copenhagen on the opposite side
of the island. No country we have traveled
through has made a stronger impression upon us
than Denmark, and this, not from its physical
character, which is wholly wanting in marked
features, but if I may so speak, from its moral
character. We had come direct from the Italian
lakes robed in supernal loveliness, as if the painters
of Paradise had accidentally spilled their colors,
2 14 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
which, mixing themselves with kindred Hght, fell,
touching the earth just here with a beauty which
melts into the human soul and dissolves it
in ineffable emotion ; from Switzerland, whose
heaven-reflecting lakes and snow-white summits
are an eternal sermon of innocence and purity ;
from the grand old Rhine begirt with romance ;
from all these we had come direct to Denmark
lying low and unpretending by the sea ; and yet,
with all this disadvantage of contrast, with one
bound, as it were, did she nestle close to our hearts,
and we loved her. What is her charm ? It is the
charm of ho?nes, and the contrast is but that which
the wanderer feels, when, satiated with the sight
of grand old temples and fallen palaces, he enters
within old familiar walls shining with an unpre-
tending light more joyous and cheering than is
reflected from the foreign splendors of all the world
beside.
Denmark is like a snug, comfortable home, or
rather, like thousands of homes cemented together
in the closest and most harmonious bonds of family
and kin. As we journeyed mile after mile, there
appeared to be no waste-land, everywhere well-
cultivated fields, evervwhere " Little farms well
tilled," everywhere " Little barns well filled," and, I
doubt not, everywhere " Little wives well willed,"
as they ought to be. It was indeed like Sunday
morning in a well-kept house, so snug and so tidy,
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 215
like the orderly cleanliness after the Saturday's
" putting to rights." It would seem that generation
after generation build upon the same spot ; for,
although the houses were not old, nor many of
them very new, almost every one we saw was
surrounded by a cluster of grand old trees
crowned with the growth of many years. Again
our eye was attracted by the almost universally
clean and white-curtained windows filled with
pots of house-plants ; and I have learned to look
upon this apparently insignificant sign as a
starting-point where indoor enjoyment and the
cultivation of the home spirit begin — it is a national
flag of social health. So far as my observation
goes, the cultivation of flowers most prevails where
the people are the happiest and the most moral,
and a land of cheerful fireside-homes is almost
sure to be a land of cheerful flower-potted windows.
Our forenoon was enlivened by railroad gossip
between two gentlemen, who, I am sure, never
imagined that either of those two silent foreigners,
who certainly could n 't understand a word of
English, would ever put them in print. The
one was a most remarkable specimen of octo-
genarianism — nearer ninety than eighty, in fact,
as he told with legitimate pride. His skin was
unwrinkled, his hands fair, smooth and steady,
his thought quick, only his step somewhat uncer-
tain, willingly borrowed the aid of a staff. Of
2l6 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
course such robust old age, iron framed and tough-
sinewed, could only belong to an Englishman; he
had served in the English army through all the
more active years of his life, had something to tell
of his experience in the Peninsula war, and for
the last twenty years had spent his Summers on
his farm in the south of England, and his Winters
in Copenhagen, which word he rolled out with the
deep, full voice of a younger man. The gentleman
conversing with him gave first his own history,
then the history of his business, and, had the
journey been long enough, I think we should have
had the history of the world. Himself was of
Italian parentage, by name Count ■ , which title
he, however, modestly kept to himself till the old
gentleman, at parting, asked his name ; born in
E ngland, educated in France on account of religion,
his wife and children living in Italy on an estate
most beautifully situated, according to his descrip-
tion, in a house, which he less modestly spoke of
as one of those "built by fools for wise men to
live in." Beginning with a few interesting remarks
touchinof the Suez Canal and the Mont Cenis
tunnel, he went on to speak of the submarine
tunnel between England and France, which he
said was already commenced — a fact we were
before ignorant of. He stated that it was expected
to be finished in six years ; that the depth between
the bottom of the sea and the roof of the tunnel
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 217
was to equal the depth of the water above — I forget
the figures he gave ; that one great impediment
which might arise was that the bed of the sea, thus
far of chalk formation, might become more sandy
in character. He said that the English were very-
wary of being taken in by any speculation, fearing
such might prove a swindle ; that English subscrip-
tions were sought, and sought in vain, for the Suez
Canal project, if only to lend respectability to the
enterprise ; but, he added, when an Englishman is
caught in a swindle, or in the making of one, it is
sure to be the biggest swindle in the world. He
also described a visit he paid to Napoleon after his
reverses ; the latter called the attention of the
Empress to what they were saying — Voila, ce que
Von dit de nous ; he described the ex-Emperor as
being then in a state of weakness even to trembling,
and said he was sure as he left him that he had
but a short time to live.
Copenhagen is the most respectable city in
the world. It is overflowing with respectability.
Streets, houses, people teem with it, and the very
atmosphere breathes it. You see here, at first
glance, nothing great and nothing small, nothing
splendid and nothing squalid, nothing modern and
nothing ancient. I do not know that I have seen a
really elegant house here, but all look like family
homes of a few generations, and you picture to
yourself their interiors filled with comforts, but
14
2l8 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
comparatively destitute of ostentatious elegance.
The windows here, as in Norway and Sweden, are
all what we call French windows, but opening out-
wards like outside blinds, and as I look at them,
row after row thrown half back at ritrht angles
with the front of the house, and offering such a
splendid target for stones, I think to myself what
respectable little fellows Copenhagen boys must be,
for not one window is broken. As for the people,
who thus seem to have learned that those who live
in glass houses should not throw stones, there is a
wonderful air of decency and sobriety about them ;
but, as I look at them, I cannot help questioning if
this very absence of excitement, amounting almost
to lack of animation, does not betray a correspond-
ing want of character; they do not look spirited nor
are they a strong-looking people; indeed, I never
saw in one city so many bloodless faces. Perhaps
this dispirited air is but the influence of the terrible
reverses which befell them early in the present
century, when England, to her shame, grand old
nation as she is, reduced Denmark from one of the
first maritime nations in the world to a state of
maritime beggary. Without even declaring war
the capital was bombarded. The day before the
attack, the city had unsuspectingly victualed and
provisioned the British fleet which on the morrow
opened fire upon her while she was in an almost
defenseless condition, the Danish army being
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 219
absent in Finland, and but five thousand men,
mostly militia, at home to protect her. At the end
of three days she was forced to yield and England
took the whole Danish fleet ; Denmark was anni-
hilated as a maritime power, and is but now
beginning to rise from her misfortunes. The Danes
love their king very much although he came to
them unwelcome as a German, against which
nation there is a national prejudice; they rather
pity him too, because, as they say, he is so poor.
Well, I thought he was when I saw what a looking
old rat-trap of a palace he lived in. I asked a
man, in whose shop we were looking at the king's
photograph, if he ever came there. "Oh, yes;
particularly about Christmas when he comes in
like any ordinary customer to buy presents for his
children." " And does he ever ask you to take less
than your price?" " No, not he; but his servants,
* the purveyors of his household, try to make good
bargains in their department, but then they must —
the king is so poor." We told him he had more
than our king whom we did not consider poor at
all. Judge of our surprise, at this distance and by
a foreigner, to be reminded in reply, of the back-
pay-matter and increase in our President's salary.
I believe the Danes are an intelliofent and well-
educated people, but I thought their spelling
terribly twisted when I had to pronounce Kjoeben-
havtt Copenhagen, and some of their proper names
2 20 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
look quite improper to English eyes. The old
Market- Place with its open market presents a
peculiar picture. It was comparatively deserted
when I passed through it late in the day, and the
most curious feature were the fish-women; there
was a long line of them seated on low seats, each
with a large, high basket before her. All wore the
same head covering — a plaid gingham kerchief,
which, by means of a piece of pasteboard or other
stiff material loosely sewed in around the face,
formed a sort of sun-bonnet. As I passed along,
the whole company, a hundred or more, each held
out a fish at arm's length towards me ; the row of
kerchiefed heads, the row of arms and the row of
fishes, all for one solitary possible purchaser, was
quite a comical sight. Close to the bridge along
which the fish-women had their place, were moored
together several small schooners, some dozen or
twenty; a flight of wooden steps led down to
these, where on boards running the length of the
boats, were displayed long rows of cheap earthen-
ware; above, on the opposite bank, were vegeta-
bles, fruits, etc. Were I to select any one scene
as an original, characteristic picture of the Danish
capital, I would take a corner of the Gammeltorv
with its bridge, its fish-women and its floating
crockery-mart. Not far from this spot is the
Bourse, a curious-looking building, handsome, too;
it is very long and comparatively low, but its
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 22 1
Steeple is one of the land-marks of Copenhao-en;
put it in any picture and it will at once tell what
city the rest of your scene should represent; it is
a twisted spire rising from the center of the long
roof of the Bourse, and can be seen at a o-reat
distance ; it represents four dragons resting, head
downwards, on the roof of the cupola, and it is
their uplifted tails twined together that gives so
original a character to the spire. In this vicinity we
found the Holmenskirche or Seaman's Church, but
one of the last places, I imagine, where one would
find a congregation of sailors. It is a wonderful
place on account of its fine wood-carving. One
might think the pulpit and overhanging sounding-
board enough for one city ; but the carving behind
the altar so far surpasses these in quantity, though
not in execution, that I cannot find words to
describe the amount of work and its wonderfully
exquisite and minute perfection ; this piece is in
the form of a Greek cross corresponding in form
with the church, but the space between the arms
of the cross is so filled in that at first sight it
seems almost an ellipse; in size it reaches from
the altar to the ceiling by no means low, and is
nearly as wide as the chancel ; the center of the
cross, from below upwards, represents the last
supper, the crucifixion, the resurrection, the
Trinity ; the horizontal arms bear the aposdes
and prophets. Many of the figures are of
222 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
considerable size, but the artist, or artists, have
not availed themselves of the larger figures to
spare labor, for behind them, as in every part, the
finest and most elegantly finished carving meets
the scrutinizing eye. The galleries and pews of
the church are likewise carved.
Expressing my admiration to our landlord of
this, which I supposed to be an unequaled master-
piece of carving, I was told I should visit a church
some two hours distant, which, though smaller, is
much more wonderful. He told me, and I could
believe him after what I had just seen, that in this
other church there was hardly a place so large as
one's hand not covered with the same fine carving,
an approach to whose excellence I have nowhere
seen. He said it was in some parts inlaid with
silver and was entirely unique in character. It
was not from want of appreciation that I did not
visit it, accepting his statement that Europe has
not a secoud such church.
We had the good fortune to have stopped at
a second-rate hotel with a first-rate landlord ; he
has the most winning way, not of taking strangers
in, but of taking them out, or rather of sending
them out and insisting upon their staying till
they have done justice to his city. You may tell
him you are in a hurry to " get on " to some
other place, but he tells you in such a persuasive
manner that " Copenhagen has to be seen, too,"
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 223
that you yield ; and when he says to your " No,"
" But you must," you go straightway and do what
he tells you and always have to say to him after-
ward, " You were quite right, sir ; I would n't have
missed that for anything." His house is called
the Union Hotel and ought to be easy to find,
being just opposite the office of " God's
Expedition," according to the sign I read from
my window.
Copenhagen, September, 1875.
2 24 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
XXI.
COPENHAGEN— THORWALDSEN— HIS LIFE— HLS WORKS—
HIS MUSEUM.
F ever there was a city whose whole
atmosphere was but the emanation from the
genius of one man alone, if ever there was
a man the folds of whose garments covered a
whole city with glory, that man is Thorwaldsen,
that city is Copenhagen. Commerce and politics
no more exist for the visitor to this classic city of
modern art — classic through the work of one man ;
this is no more one of the great sea-ports of the
world, the capital of Denmark and the home of
her king ; it is Thorwaldsen's city and he is its
immortal ruler and possessor. Copenhagen is
sometimes called the great sculptor's monument,
but I would rather call it his descendant and heir
animated by the spirit of his genius. What a pity
it is that great men's biographies have to be
written ! Why not put an end to the business by
burning every biographer on the funeral pyre of
his own works and thus leave some heroes, some
ministers of Art to worship ? What a pity to be
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 225
continually shown that the difference between a
greater and a lesser man is often but in the wearing
of his cloak — the one with glory without and
rags within, the other shabby without but lined
with homespun decency. We strike the balance
between the two, and lo ! the former scarcely turns
the scale against the average humanity of the
latter. But Thorwaldsen's very weaknesses were
but the downward tending roots of his genius, and
the rents in the inner side of his garment were
torn by his passion for the divine outlines of
physical beauty which the Great Sculptor, perhaps
as compensation to inferior bodies, sometimes
neoflects to animate with a beautiful soul.
Thorwaldsen's portraits at different periods of his
life, bear the impress of a great, loving, genial and
benevolent nature. He was born at sea between
Iceland and Copenhagen. His long life, filled with
the faithful use of the talent given him, extended
from the year 1770 to 1844, and nearly one-half of
it was spent in Italy. His father was a carver of
the figure-heads of ships. The son's first school was
the wharf of Copenhagen where he worked with
his father. As one of the seafaring population
of Denmark, he was entitled to education by
the Government, and thus, at eleven years of age
he entered the Royal Academy of Art, where not
till after six years' study, did his gaining of several
prizes draw that attention towards him which
2 26 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
resulted in the fostering of his talent by men of
influence.
It is wonderful to see how thoroughly one man
can take possession of a city and people ; here is
hardly a spot where the scope of one's vision does
not take in some mark of his influence ; the many
statues ornamenting its streets and squares, its
multitudinous shops filled with statuettes, busts
and copies of Thorwaldsen's works, to suit every
purse, continually tell of him, and one feels the
greatness of the man almost as much in the cheap
plaster casts in the poor man's home, as in his
pupils' faithful marble copies of the master's
nspired visions.
Our first introduction to Thorwaldsen was in the
Frauenkirche. One gets very tired in Europe of
visiting churches, and yet it is in vain for him to
declare on leaving a country that he will never
visit the churches in another. Let him stop where
he will, in nine cases out of ten the first building
he visits is another church, for they are all show-
places. But it is worth paying the penalty of a
visit to all the others in Europe to enjoy the
privilege of seeing the Metropolitan Church or
Frauenkirche of Copenhagen. The exterior, with
the exception of its front, is plain and rather
homely. At either side of the portico are two
statues, one of Moses writing the law upon the
tablet he holds in his hand, the other of David
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 227
leaning in inspired mood on his harp. The space
in the pediment over the portico is occupied by a
sculpture, in demi-relief, of John the Baptist
preaching in the wilderness ; this consists of
some fifteen figures, of which he is the central one
having one hand upraised while the other grasps
a cross; children, youths, women and mature men
sit, recline or stand in careless attitudes but with
interested faces. Standing within the building
and looking around, one thinks never did sacred
building more beautifully illustrate the foundation
of the Christian religion, the story of which is
told by the speaking marbles that gaze upon
him. No need of preaching here — the place
itself is a sermon. The unostentatiousness of the
religion taught by Christ is expressed in the
beautiful simplicity of its architecture. Its grace
and beauty breathe from the marble forms around
you while the almost total want of color fills the
place with an atmosphere of purity akin to heaven.
It is the perfection of Art. As a building
consecrated to Him whose lessons were purity of
life and grandeur of soul, the Frauenkirche of
Copenhagen is perhaps the most perfect church in
Europe. The interior of the building is a long
parallelogram, with arched roof and semi-circular
chancel. The dome of the latter and the ceiling
of the main body of the building are quietly
beautiful but unostentatious in ornamentation and
2 28 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
color. The gallery running the length of the two
sides, does not project, but recedes within the
walls behind a row of pillars ; the walls are
almost white, tinged only with the least possible
shade of gray ; the lower half of the wall on
either side consists of seven arches, above the
arches a cornice ; above this are pillars half the
height of the building which support the roof;
behind them is the gallery. In the middle of
the gallery is the royal pew, with crimson velvet
canopy, hangings and cushions. All the other
churches here have also a royal pew, but it is
in the Frauenkirche that the Kinor of Denmark
usually attends public divine service.
Once within the doors one involuntarily stands
still, impressed by the original effect of the whole ;
then the pleased eye gradually takes in the whole
line of statuary— -the twelve apostles, six on either
side, (only Judas Iscariot has found a substitute,)
while in the chancel over the altar stands the arisen
Christ, and in the center of the chancel is a
kneeling angel holding in her hands a large shell
also of marble ; the latter is the baptismal font.
The apostles stand on pedestals some five or six
feet high. The figures are all somewhat more
than life size, and of the finest marble. Some of
them are the work of Thorwaldsen's own hands,
the others the work of his pupils, after his own
designs and under his own direction. Nothing
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 229
can surpass the exquisite beauty and effect of the
kneehng angel ; the wings nearly touch the
ground ; the face and look is upwards. Each
statue is a study by itself, each face betrays
the individual character, and each figure bears
some sign of that apostle's calling. Matthew
stands with one foot on his bags of money, the
knee thus raised supports the tablet on which
he has been writing, but from which he now is
looking away, and at his side a kneeling angel
looks up into his face. Doubting Thomas stands
absorbed in reverie; his face, with downcast eyes,
rests on one hand, in the other he holds a carpenter's
square. Paul is in the attitude of preaching, his
face animated as if speaking, one hand pointing
upwards, the other resting on his sword. John,
with book and pencil in hand, looks heavenward,
lost in inspiration, at his foot an eagle. Peter,
with stern face, grasps the keys in his hand.
Equally in all the others are read character and
calling. In the two chapels at either side of the
altar are two bas-reliefs, one of the baptism of
Christ, the other of the Last Supper. The latter is
original in design ; instead of being seated around
a table as usually represented, Christ is standing
holding the cup, while before Him, in irregular
order, kneel the apostles, all looking towards Him,
some with uplifted hands, some with hands upon
their hearts. Judas, with face partially turned
230 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
towards them, is hurrying from their midst.
Extending all around the upper part of the
chancel is a bas-relief representing the procession
of Christ's entrance into Jerusalem.
The remains of Thorv/aldsen were first placed
in this church while awaiting the completion of
his final resting-place. Thorwaldsen died as he
had lived, without relatives or family. The State,
whom he had made his heir, had already
commenced a special building to receive his works ;
this, begun during his life after designs approved
by himself, was not completed till two years after
his death. Its exterior is most peculiar; it
certainly does not seem beautiful at first sight, but
its originality renders it easy to be remembered,
and once having spent a few hours within,
you would not for the world change anything
without.
To me its atmosphere was that of the dwelling-
place of the Spirit of Harmony and Peace ; I felt
better and happier for being there, and the
remembrance of the mood which there fell upon
me, has even yet a kind of strange mesmeric
charm.
Thorwaldsen's Museum is a nearly square
building, less in height than in breadth ; it is
surmounted by a chariot of Victory drawn by
four horses. Its style is mingled Etruscan and
Pompeian. Its exterior is mostly covered with
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 23 I
cement, painted principally in black, dark red and
dingy yellow — the dark colors predominating.
Around three sides these colors present a sort of
panorama of Thorwaldsen's triumphal reception
by the people on his return from Italy with his
art treasures, after an absence of eighteen years.
It is all of life-size; boats filled with people waving
handkerchiefs and shouting, immense cases being
landed from boats, etc.; it is a very good memento
of the fact, but far from beautiful. The edifice
is built around an open court ; its walls towards
the court are of the same colors as the other walls
— black, red and yellow — but the designs are
antique ; yellow palm trees on a black ground,
flying chariots, etc. The ground of the court is
covered with cement — white center surrounded
by a very broad black border — and here, in the
center, without other monument than the building
and its contents, Thorwaldsen's body is buried ;
his grave, nearly square like the court, is
surrounded by a stone base about a foot high, on
which is inscribed the dates of his birth and death ;
the top is a bed of ivy. The interior of the
museum consists of two stories ; these are divided
into long corridors looking upon the court, while
surrounding the corridors toward the outer wall
the space is cut up into smaller or larger rooms, of
which there are forty-two. All these rooms and
corridors are filled. Many of the smaller rooms
232 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
are only large enough to contain some half-dozen
pieces, and these generally harmonize in subject.
Besides Thorwaldsen's own works, both in marble
and plaster, the building also contains the collection
made by him of ancient and modern works of art.
His library and paintings are also here, and in a
corner room of the upper story is the furniture of
his living-room during the last years of his life.
In this last room are two pieces left unfinished at
his death ; the one a bust nearly completed, now
placed within a glass case, the other a crayon
portrait-sketch, in a very confused, incomplete
condition. Here is also a very Interesting little
painting representing him seated in the midst of a
gallery of his works. There are several portraits
of him, and a very fine statue of himself in his
working-frock, mallet in one hand, his other arm
leaning on the head of a half-completed piece of
statuary — the figure of a young girl. Thorwaldsen
is as famous for his portrait-statues and busts, of
which there are many here of his own time —
Humboldt, Napoleon, Walter Scott, Byron, and
others — as for his ideal pictures ; besides there are
many of his bas-reliefs, and they are all so
beautiful that I do not know why they have not
become as common as his world-wide known
Night and Morning. Among the bas-reliefs is
one of which the idea is remarkably pretty and
pleasing ; it represents Love at different stages
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 233
of life; at the right hand a young maiden has
just uncovered a basket filled with cherubs, and
from them has lifted out the infant Love ; Psyche,
the mother of Love, a goddess with butterfly
wings, takes her child and passes it to a kneeling
maiden who stretches out her hands to take it ;
the next figure is a maiden hugging the infant
Love to her heart and kissing its lips ; in the
next she is carrying him along as she walks,
the arm that carries him carelessly swings at her
side, but she wisely holds him by the wings ; the
next figure is a man sitting on the ground, his
bowed head rests in the hand which his knee
supports, and his form is bent under a weight,
which is but Love, who sits perched on his
shoulder with roguish face ; last, with face turned
to the others, stands an old man bent over on the
staff which supports him ; his other hand he
reaches out to Love, who is flying from him and
saucily looking back to the beseeching face and
outstretched hand of the old man, as he laughs
and flies away.
Another is of exceedingly touching beauty — it
is Priam begging of Achilles the dead body of
his son. These two are the central figures ; behind
Achilles two attendants, " stupid with surprise, yet
seem to question with their eyes ; " behind Priam
two followers bring costly gifts. The young and
godlike Achilles sits, while the venerable old Priam,
15
2 34 LKTTERS OF TKAVKL.
whose face tells his woe, kneels, embracing
Achilles' knees, clasping his hand, and looking
into his face with entreaty.
" Tlic luiij^ liih cnti'}' made,
And prostrate iu)w Ijcforc Achilles laid.
Embraced liis knees and hatlied his liantls in tears.
' Ah, think, thou favored of tlie powers divine,
Think of thy father's age and pity mine !
In me that fatlier's reverend image trace,
Those silver hairs, that venerable face.
His trembling limbs, his helj^less jK-rson see —
In all my etiual but in misery.
Yet still one comfort in his soul may rise.
He hears his son still lives to glad his eyes.
No comfort to my griefs, no hopes remain.
The best, the bravest of my sons is slain !
Him, too, thy rage has slain ! Beneath thy steel,
Unhappy, in his country's cause, he fell ;
For him through hostile camps I bend my way,
For him thus prostrate at thy feel I lay ;
Large gifts proportioned to thy wrath I bear ;
Oh ! hear the wretched and the gods revere.
Think of thy father, and this face behold ;
See him in me, as helpless and as old,
Though not so wretched — there he yields to me,
The first of men in sovereign misery,
Thus forced to kneel, thus groveling to embrace
The scourge and ruin of my realm and race ;
.Suppliant my children's murderer to imjilore.
And kiss those hands yet reeking with their gore ! ' "
CoPENiiAOEN, September, 1S75.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 235
XXII.
COPENHAGEN — FREDERICKSBERG HAVE — GARDENS OF
TIVOLI AND VAUXHALL — DENMARK'S SCULPTORS.
E have lingered in this quaint old city
till we are getting really to love it, and
since it is neither young nor handsome
this must be, I suppose, because it is so good, and
we would call it a dear old place had we not too
often before been forced to apply the same words
to other cities, but with quite a different meaning.
In one of our first walks we accidentally came upon
the residence of the King. This is situated in
Frederik's Plads, an octagonal space whose four
alternate sides are formed by four palaces ; between
these are four grand portals as high as the palaces
themselves, each forming the entrance-way into a
broad thoroughfare. The square is paved with
stone, and the only verdure to be seen is a scant
growth of grass springing up here and there
between the pavements, giving the spot a desolate
air. In its center is a line equestrian statue of
Frederick V. The palaces, which are occupied
respectively by the King, the Oueen-dowager, the
Crown Prince and the Minister of Foreign Affairs,
are uniform in size and style ; they are old, gray
2^6 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
Stone buildings with rickety windows and wholly
unpretentious in character ; many an American
would refuse to hire either as a residence without
its being agood deal renovated. Beyond one of the
portals a garden-like view drew our steps thither-
ward. We came into a grassy field with trees; it
was skirted by the rear of houses — or their fronts,
for really it is pretty hard in Old Europe to tell a
back door from a front door. But the wonder of
the place is a ruin which looks a little as if newly
built to order, and, so far as beauty goes, it is,
perhaps, the prettiest spot in Copenhagen. This
is a roofless, circular building, between whose two
massive, circled walls of stone is a curved, broad
walk with outlined arches prophesying undeveloped
grace ; the handsome pillared portico is nearly
finished, some of the columns already crowned
with their capitals, others incomplete, broken at
varying heights. All around was in harmony with
the building ; the field covered with an uneven
growth of Qfrass which seemed to have been left to
its own sweet will to grow by fits and starts, the
branches of the trees hung negligently, and the
lazy leaves forgot to frisk about and play with the
winds. As we stood in the centre of the building
within its perfect circle, the mosaic of grass and
wild flowers beneath our feet, the dome of clear
blue sky above our heads, we thought that man
had done well to stay his hand where he did,
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 237
and that Nature had finished the work with a
perfection beyond that of Art. This building is
Copenhagen's marble church, and the winds and
the rains and the sunshine of a hundred years have
planted and nourished the hanging verdure
growing here and there out from between the
stones of its high walls, thus contrasting Nature's
handiwork with the sculptor's chiseled scroll and
leaf. The staid old city began this work in a
freak of extravagance ; her funds gave out and the
work was suspended. Later it was found that the
swampy soil forbade its completion, and hence it
has always thus remained, more beautiful I believe
in its incompleteness than ever architect's design
could have made it.
The environs of Copenhagen have some of the
most beautiful pleasure-grounds in all Europe ;
they are accessible by horse-railways, and, indeed,
most of them are within the compass of an
agfreeablv lonof walk.
Fredericksber<j Have is the Versailles of
Copenhagen, an extensive park of wonderful
beauty. Its slot (palace), an unhandsome structure
and no longer a royal residence, is on elevated
ground, its portico overlooking Copenhagen, the
harbor, and I might add all Denmark, for
Denmark is so level that a very low hill
affords a very extensive prospect. But the
grounds are indescribable, and with the exception
238 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
of its want of fountains, are, to my taste, far
beyond those of Versailles, though reminding one
of the latter by some of the far-stretching views
over lawns and lakes through thicket-openings.
Here are woods seemingly of primeval growth,
broad alleys arched over by grand old trees,
winding dreamy walks, groves with clean-swept
grounds and inviting seats where the shade is so
dense that twilight reigns at midday and the
solitary wanderer who sits himself down and opens
the volume he carries, refuses to strain his eyes
by the dim light, closes the book, and launches
his thoughts on the wave of his own meditation,
and in this leafy obscurity forgets the near and the
actual and delivers himself to poetic dreams in
which the real before him rhymes harmoniously
with his most fantastic imaginings. If the spot
be such a paradise to the old, what must it be to
youth and love ? Here, too, are islands with
picturesque summer-houses and gay flower-gardens
all duplicated in the surrounding waters ; meander-
ing streams spanned by ornamental bridges, and
broad, open, grassy fields; and all on so extensive
a scale that the park seems endless.
Between Fredericksberg Have and the city are
the Gardens of Tivoli and Vauxhall. We had the
good fortune to see the former on a gala occasion,
which happens not more than once or twice a year,
although it is always a much frequented Summer
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 239
evening resort. It was Sunday evening, and
twenty thousand visitors thronged in so close, one
after another, that the unfortunate one, who was not
hke ourselves luckily warned beforehand but put
down more than his entrance fee, was forced on
through the turn-stile without getting his change.
How shall I recount the amusements of these
extensive gardens? Theaters, concerts, fire- works,
restaurants, acrobatic performances where the ropes
were stretched from tree to tree high up among
their branches, and the scene lighted by Bengal
lights below ; lakes with illuminated water-lilies
floating upon their surface — altogether it rivaled,
or more than rivaled, the gay Champs Elysees of
Paris. The water illuminations were by means
of small, flat oil-lamps placed inside of tumbler-
shaped lanterns not much larger than a common
drinking-glass. Each lantern was of one color —
red, blue, green or yellow — and was made of tissue-
paper covering a wire frame ; those in green
formed the leaves of illuminated trees, some of
them fifteen or twenty feet in height, which stood
near the banks of the lakes and streams; they
covered the whole frame-work of bridges which
looked like paths of colored fire ; Chinese pagodas
and Turkish kiosks two stories high, had their
walls covered with a mosaic of liofht which traced
architectural design, windows and doorways ; and
all trees, bridges, and fanciful buildings were
240 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
mirrored In the still waters which seemed the
marriage scene of water-sprite and flame. Then
there were gardens fenced with rows of light,
flower-beds bordered in the same wav, and aoain
whole flower-beds of illuminated tulips of various
colors ; all were made by gas pipes on the surface
of the ground, winding and twisting about to form
low hedges, or knotted together, as it were, into
flower-beds, the thick-set jets each furnished with
a flower-shaped glass shade. The broader and
narrower alleys were arched overhead with similar
colored lights, which often varied from regular
lines into fantastic combinations and figures.
But wonderful as were the grounds, the people
were no less so ; such order and decorum as every-
where reigned was remarkable in so large a public
gathering; not an oath, (at least in English,) not
an insolent stare, rude gesture or unmannerly
shove ; it was well-behaved propriety, so very
proper that one might have doubted its being a
festive occasion, had not the uniform expression
of happy content lighted every face. It all recalled
to my mind anecdotes I had read of Danish
morality ; of the high judicial officer who com-
plained that his office was a sinecure, he had
absolutely nothing to do, ajid of the drinking-glass
which had stood unchained for over ten years at
the side of a drinking-fountain in the open high-
way.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 24 I
Copenhagen is very rich in other museums as
well as in that of Thorwaldsen, and besides the
latter she has also had other great artists, but
none so favored. Before him, a worthy predecessor
was Wiedevelt, who in a moment of despair threw
himself into the sea to escape his life of poverty.
In the middle of one of the streets of the city is
, a monument — an obelisk and pedestal — erected to
Frederic VI., by the peasantry, as a thank-offering
for the freedom then conferred upon them. Around
the pedestal of this are four marble statues, said to
be the work of Wiedevelt. One of these represents
Denmark ; she stands with hand upon her heart,
and sad, tearful face, looking in the direction of the
spot where the sculptor drowned himself and his
misery. Now, they say of this statue that it weeps
and mourns him forever, and that it is doomed
always to stand with face turned towards the fatal
spot.
Contemporaneous with and surviving Thorwald-
sen was Bissen, to whom the former bequeathed
the completion of many of his works, and Bissen
again had a rival in Zerichan. As remarkable
museums here are the Ethnographic Museum and
that of Northern Antiquities; the former is one of
the richest of its kind in Europe, and the collection
occupies thirty-five rooms. The Museum of
Northern Antiquities is said to be the finest of the
kind in the world and of great value in the study
242 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
of the history of civih'zation ; it contains over
40.000 objects chronologically arranged ; among
other curiosities are runic inscriptions, which he
that runs may read just as well as if he were
standing still. This may, indeed, be called a
National collection, for the nation has, in a great
measure, been its collector. Whenever a peasant
has turned up with sword or spade any antique
coin, ornament, or any relic whatever, he has
carried it to the owner of the land, to the pastor or
to some officer, to be forwarded to the Museum of
Antiquities ; he has received on the spot its full
value, and if the object were one of special interest
he has been paid an extra premium for his con-
tribution.
Copenhagen, September, 1875.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 243
XXIII.
FROM DENMARK TO NORWAY— CHRLSTIANIA.
^O IV long from Copenhagen to Chris-
tiania ? " we asked landlord, steam-
boat-clerk and captain, and captain,
steamboat-clerk and landlord all replied twenty-
two hours, which in our innocence or ignorance
we believed. It was a splendid day when, with
trembling stomachs, we went on board the steamer
that was to carry us from Denmark to Norway.
As from her beautiful harbor we looked back
towards the quaint old city of Copenhagen, lying
there in the midst of bright blue waters, verdant
with her grand old trees and fragrant with the
name and fame of her Thorwaldsen, she looked
like a beautiful flower dropped from Olympian
Gardens, and clasping the girdle of the goddess of
the sea. Yet, beautiful as is the picture she thus
makes, and more so to him who has learned to know
and love her than to the approaching stranger, she
would doubtless have gained in perspective beauty
were there rising ground on which to lift up prom-
inent buildings, or had Nature surrounded her
with a background of hills.
244 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
To go to Denmark and not to think of Hamlet
would be like studying English literature and
leaving out Shakespeare. As we sail northward
through the Sound we soon come to Elsinore, and
at this point the coasts of Denmark and Sweden
so nearly approach each other that a genuine old-
fashioned giant could readily step across from one
country to the other. On a point projecting out
into the Sound is the fortress of Kronberg, the
very castle on whose platform Hamlet interviewed
the ghost. As we sailed by we began to question
whether, after all, we had done wisely to refuse our-
selves a visit to the spot, to Hamlet's grave and to
the fountain of Ophelia, which, it is said, has so
little water that she could only have drowned her-
self in it by the aid of some friend to forcibly hold
her head therein. It is very foolish to question the
authenticity of such places, for the sight-seeing
traveler who doubts is lost — or loses his labor, and
illusions are, for the most part, more charming
than realities. But we visit real scenes of real
persons and think we are going out of curiosity to
see the places ; we find afterward we went for the
thrill. One of the greatest pleasures the traveler
reaps is his remembrance of such visits. How
well I remember my experience among the scenes
of Stratford-on-Avon. I arrived there in a pour-
ing rain, blase, as it were, with travel, weary
of sight-seeing, and, 1 thought, with emotional
LETTERS OF TRAVEI,. 245
susceptibilities worn out; I left with my whole
being throbbing with emotion, and with a feeling
of solemnitv akin to that with which one turns
from the spot where he has just left, hidden away
from him forever, the mortal cast of a loving and
beloved friend. To this dav the thought of that
visit — so many months, so many miles between —
never fails to thrill me with emotion.
Elsinore and its castle is a chosen spot for
spirits, for not only Shakespeare has peopled it,
but dear old Hans Andersen, too, and here he finds
the home of Holger Danske, the god who watches
over Denmark, and who is seen to walk here when-
ever danger threatens the country he guards.
Losing Elsinore from sight we turned our
thoughts from Denmark and toward more northern
lands. We next came into the Cattegat. I repeated
to myself the old familiar school-day words,
"CattegatandSkagger-rack," recalling with a smile
how glibly, as a child, I had repeated the easily-
remembered names, with but a vague idea of
whether they were land, water or rocks. Beyond
Elsinore we turned toward the Swedish coast to
put in at Gotheborg, where many of the passengers
left to go direct to Stockholm, via the celebrated
Gotha Canal and Lakes Werner and Wetter.
We were now twelve hours from Copenhagen, and
as yet not fairly out into the open sea. We began
to ask again, " How long from Copenhagen to
246 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
Christiania ? " "Thirty hours," was now the
answer, and as at later repetitions of the question
the time was continually lengthened, we finally
refrained lest we should never arrive, and, indeed,
so delightful was the voyage we should not have
been impatient to do so had we not regretted the
loss of such fine weather for land-travel. The sea
was very smooth, no wind, pleasant sunshine and
moonshine, and the steamer so steady that, for the
most part, we were quite unconscious of any
motion. This, to be sure, was not much to be
unconscious of, for of all the slow going sailers
that ever put to sea. this one was certainly never
equaled, unless by the Gute Frau in which the
Dutch settlers of Manhattan Island sailed from
Holland. The Gnte Frau, I believe, was round,
so that she could sail forwards or sideways equally
well ; our vessel was not exactly round, but it was
not much longer than it was broad, and the engine
was of about sufficient power to turn a family
coffee-mill. One of the wonders of this voyage
was the moon, who, so far away from home, was
acting a most whimsical, fantastic part ; no one
seeing such vagaries could doubt her lunacy; there
she was, hanging about corners in the heavens
where we should never have thought of looking
for a respectable moon, and instead of going along
around the earth in a well-behaved manner, she
stood still in one spot as if waiting for the earth
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 247
to come to her if it wanted to be shone upon ;
then, in a sort of lunatic freak she would rush
down below the horizon as suddenly as she had
risen above it and at a point of the compass where
I can't believe she was expected.
On such a little steamer we could not but make
acquaintance with our fellow passengers; I became
quite interested in a Danish family going on a trip
to Sweden to assist at a family wedding. The
lady was very intelligent and knew Bret Harte's
works perfectly well, much better than I did. Of
course, I felt somewhat proud of her appreciation
of one of our local writers ; but later I was
thoroughly astonished, as you may imagine, to
learn from a casual remark she made, that she
had taken his inventions and pictures of camp-life,
mountain and mining adventure, etc., for a correct
picture of life in San Francisco to-day.
To us who have heard in England intelligent
people speak of the war between North and South
America, it is not strange that those still further
away should make no distinction between California
and San Francisco. Bret Harte's works are
abundantly displayed for sale in Denmark, Norway
and Sweden, translated into two of these languages,
and I believe into all three. He is, it would
seem, the most widely known and most extensively
read American author in northeastern Europe,
Mark Twain being his only equally popular
248 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
competitor. Then, too, it was in Stockholm that
I first saw a photograph of Toby Rosenthal's
"Elaine." Indeed, I began to think that California
geniuses, like California squashes, were spreading
over a good deal of ground and covering them-
selves with gold. People abroad believe in the
geniuses, too, more than they do in the squashes.
Our second stopping-place, the first Norway soil
we trod upon, was at Laurvig, situated on a little
peninsula just at the entrance of Christiania Fjord.
We went ashore for half an hour^ and strolled
through the hilly, quiet little town, searching with
curious eyes for some striking characteristic of
place or people. We found nothing so novel as
the fact of our being there. Nearly opposite
Laurvio- — but here the distance between the
western and the eastern coasts is too o^reat for the
eye to travel — is a little inlet and stream called the
Idefjord, which makes the boundary between
Norway and Sweden ; it is less noticeable from
this fact, however, than from the little town of
Fredrickshold, situated on its banks, near whose
fortress, three hundred feet above the town,
Charles XII. of Sweden was killed.
We had had quite an incorrect idea of the length
of Christiania Fjord or bay ; instead of a short
distance it was a twelve hours' sail. All was new
and as charming as new. Our maps certainly give
us a correct idea of the Norwegian coast, with its
LETTERS OF TRAVEL, 249
irregular fringe of long peninsulas floating out
into the ocean, like sea-grass fastened to its shores;
but to this general picture there is to be added the
gentle slope of these long tongues of land lapping
up the ocean, and the innumerable rocks lying
with their rounded cheeks just enough above the
water to be kissed by the sunshine, and thickly
dotting the water out so far from the shore as to
make of this wide arm of the sea but a compara-
tively narrow channel for navigation. Although
the general features are continually the same —
inlet, peninsula, rock, grassy slope, forest of pine —
there is, too, endless variety ; now, the land on
either side stretching toward us, we seem to sail
between the grassy banks of a beautiful inland
river ; again, we are on the bosom of a broad sea ;
now, the coast-line is overshadowed by dark forests
of evergreen; again, it retreats far, far into the land
beyond some rock-bound bay, and still again it
marks the level of distant fields that present a wide
and smiling landscape. Looking at this deeply
indented coast-line, wnth alternating promontory
and inlet, we have but to add the thought of her
thirty thousand inland lakes and her almost
unbroken forests of pine, to get a good idea of the
scenery in the interior of Norway.
It was after 12 o'clock at night when we finally
arrived at Christiania, after a voyage of torty-four
hours from Copenhagen. We learned that there is
16
250 LETTERS OP^ TRAVEL.
one fast steamer which makes the direct passage
from the latter port to Christiania in twenty-two
hours, and since that steamer has begun to run,
every little old craft calls it a twenty-two hours'
trip from port to port.
It did not occur to us in our anxiety to be
" getting on " that it would be better to stop on
board till morning. Some half-dozen passengers
who landed at the same time as ourselves
disappeared almost immediately with the solitary
hand-cart, which was the only vehicle awaiting
the arrival of the steamer. My companion and
myself started for a near hotel, the name and
direction of which we had taken from a fellow-
traveler.
The moon was just rising over the city, which,
as yet, lay covered with shadows. Not a light
did we see in any window, nor a person in the
streets ; the only sign of life was the sound of
watchmen's voices in nearer or more distant
streets, crying out the hour of the night. We
walked on and on and round and round, but could
find nothing that looked like a hotel. Every
moment we were becoming sleepier, every moment
our baggage was getting heavier. At last we
saw three men advancing arm-in-arm towards us,
and glad indeed were we to see them. Before we
had observed their condition we had asked them
to show us to the hotel we had been looking for.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 25 [•
No one, or rather no three, could be more
obHging ; they would not only show us, they
would go with us ; each was polite according to
his stage of inebriation ; the drunkenest being the
politest of all. The hotel, after all, was not so
far away, and we might have found it, had lamp
or light of any kind made it visible. We now:
began to take leave of our guides, not caring to
appear at a strange hotel at such a late — or early
— hour with such a drunken crowd; two of them
were willing to go, but the third was too drunk
for such cold-heartedness and was bound to see us
out of our trouble, and it was only when the door
was at last opened, that, with a final shaking of
hands, his companions were able to induce him to
leave us. The sleepy porter opened the door
and we stepped into the hall only to be refused
further admittance ; he declared there was no.
room, no, not even a chair in the dining-room
where we might sit till morning ; and when we
asked him to tell us where we could find another
hotel he knew of none.
Apain we found ourselves in the street, with the
night and the city before us ! After strolling about
awhile we met a young man who, in reply to our
inquiries, went with us to within sight of another
hotel, where he left us; we rang a good half-hour,
no one opened. At last two young men belonging
in the house joined us, and after we four had, by
252 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
turns, pulled steadily at the bell for another
fifteen minutes, the sleepy porter woke up.
Fortunately, one of the young men spoke English,
and we explained our position to him — that we
were respectable persons and had landed in a
respectable way. He asked for a room for us
and was refused, insisted, and was again refused.
I could go no further, and had made up my mind
that a settee outside the door was just the place
to pass the rest of the night, when to the persistent
demands of the young man the porter finally
consented to see if there was a room. He was too
lazy to look far, and perhaps that was the reason
he so soon re-appeared and conducted us into one
of the best rooms in the hotel. As we put
ourselves to rest in a clean, comfortable bed, under
beautiful silken bed-coverings, and looked around
upon the luxurious and richly-furnished apartment,
we forgot all indignation at the lying, lazy porter,
in our own ease and satisfaction at having at last
found such shelter, and our morning's moralizing
was something like this: "What a lucky thing it
is for strangers that the young men of Christiania
stay out late o' nights."
Christiania, Septenibci-, 1875.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 253
XXIV.
SCENERY AND INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL IN NORWAY.
ORWAYh^s already become a popular
^'^ Summer resort, particularly for the
English, of whom hundreds of families
come over here every year and spend a couple
of the Summer months. They usually go north
towards Throndhjem where there is fine sport,
both hunting and fishing. As yet a good part of
the distance from Christiania to there must be
made by stage, a journey of about two days, but
a railroad is contemplated. This year so many
left at the same time that the steamboat accommo-
dations from Christiania were inadequate, nearly a
hundred families more than could be accommodated
applying- for passage home on the same steamer.
Not only the peculiar phenomena of the high
latitude, with its midnight sun, the exceeding
beauty of the country not yet hackneyed by
written descriptions, the novel landscape, and
equally novel personal experience, but also the, as
yet, comparative honesty of the people, make a
tour in Norway one of the pure pleasures which
European travel offers. " Of course we shall
come to it," said a young Norwegian clergyman,
• 2-54 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
whose acquaintance we maxie during our steamer
passage from Copenhagen to Christiania, "only
give us time and we promise you to become as
bad as the Swiss ; aught else would be too much
to expect when we have to deal with people who
know neither our language nor our coin, and thus
every transaction offers an opportunity for
dishonesty ; human nature is not going to long
■remain proof against such temptations." We
were much indebted to this gentleman for the
success of our Norwegian trip. We had not time
to go to the rainy, thousand-year old city of
Bergen, situated on the extreme western coast
and encircled by its background of seven
mountains, nor to go north to Throndhjem where
is the partly ruined cathedral once built for the
worship of St. Olaf, the patron saint of Norway ;
besides, it is at midsummer that one should visit
the latter place, and we were every day fearing
the setting in of the Winter season, although the
country still stood in its full, ripened glory of
Autumn beauty, and air and sunshine were soft
and radiant. This gentleman told us, however,
that in a circular trip from Christiania as far as
Gausta, and which we could make in less than
a week, we could see the very gems of Norwegian
scenery and gain a proper idea of the whole
country.
We had always read that the English language
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 255
was somewhat generally spoken in Norway, and we
came here expecting to help ourselves with our
native tongue; by accident, rather than purposely,
we had brouofht a little Swedish and German
traveler's phrase book, but the Swedish and
Norwegian languages are so very unlike that the
book was of no use to us here. Our new friend
assured us that, once out of Christiania, we should
find only the native tongue spoken or understood,
and he kindly insisted upon teaching us a few
phrases, such as, " How much does it cost to such
a place?" Besides this he gave us some general
hints in regard to his countrymen. The Nor-
wegian peasant, said he, is noted for his thick-
headedness ; for instance, a stranger may ask to be
directed to a certain place ; the peasant directs
him, but the traveler, not understanding well, takes
the wrong course, which does not at all disturb
the peasant, who looks after him and wishes him a
pleasant journey. As we came here to see
Norway, and not the unimportant city of
Christiania, early morning found us, after a four
hours' sleep, ready to continue our journey ; but
as our breakfast-table stood by the window, we
meanwhile made the best possible use of our eyes.
It was the school-going hour and not in all Europe
had we seen school-children that looked so much
like our own; groups of fashionably-dressed girls,
with books swinging in straps or carried in their
256 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
hands, boys with knapsacks on their backs, and
the hurried step of teachers; it was a new-old
sight, and, from the looks of the pupils, we felt
assured that the public schools here must be
superior to those of England or France, where, as
in London, the most respectable class send their
children away from home or instruct them by
private teachers, and thus, in general, the school-
children of the street are those of the miserably
poor or wear the uniform — blue coats and long
orange-colored stockings, fastened at the knee,
and the like — of some private institution ; while in
Paris the better schools usually own a sort of
omnibus which they send to bring their scholars
from home in the morning and to convey them
back at night, and they are only seen walking in
the streets in procession conducted by one or more
teachers. As we drove to the station we had
opportunity to see that Christiania is a clean and
well-built modern-looking city ; its environs, of
which we had a good view from the railroad car,
are of unusual beauty ; all around, the most
charming and beautiful country-houses with
gardens and ornamental grounds reminded us
of the beautiful environs of some of the large
Eastern cities of our own country ; indeed, if the
school-children had made Christiania seem some-
what American, the beautiful homes around made
it still more so.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 257
Two hours by rail brought us to the town of
Drammen, a lumber-port of importance counting
twenty thousand inhabitants, and here we were
obliged to wait till afternoon. The most I can say
of the place, however, is, that here one can get the
most sleep for the least money of any place in
Europe.
It was after dark when we arrived at Kongsberg,
celebrated for its silver mines, and here our
Norwegian experience fairly began. We had the
name of an hotel, and an obliging young man
brought us near it ; I was going to say, in sight of
it, but we could not see it. There was no name,
no light, nothing but a black hole in the wall.
We went into this because we did not see
anywhere else to go. and it proved to be an
entrance-arch leading into a square court ; no one
was within sight or in attendance, and we went into
the house and roamed around till we found some
one. It was easy to make our want of a room
understood. Our landlord was a strong, strapping
woman who looked as if she could whip a dozen
men. She did n't know nor could n't guess at the
meaning of anv word which did not belonof to
her own language, but yet it was necessary for
us somehow to converse with her. We could say
till Tinoset (to Tinoset), and we knew the word
for " to-morrow morninqr." Our landlord eot the
idea of what we wished to say, and she pounced
258 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
upon my companion and pulled his watch out of
his pocket in regular brigand fashion, but she only
wished to show him the hour at which he must
start in the morning. She obeyed orders for
arranging the room, which I could only give her
by signs, with a soldier-like promptness and
exactitude, and then would wheel around with a
martial air as if more prepared for action than
ready for peace. At last, glancing at my
companion's boots, it occurred to her that she had
better black them, and he was like a feather in
her hands as she took him by the shoulders,
backed him into a chair, and pulled his boots off
him.
It was with a look of relief as if we did n't know
from what, that we watched our opportunity to
lock her out of the room. We felt, as you may
imagine,, that we had made no very definite
arrangements for the morrow, so, early the next
morning, my companion arose and went out in
search of some other hotel where English might
be spoken; we had been told that at the Scandi-
navian, where we were, this was the case, and for
that reason we had gone there, but we afterwards
learned that our informer was not to blame, only
the hotel had very recently changed hands. Soon
after my companion had gone out the landlady
came in, of course without knocking; fortunately
I was up, but she marched straight to the bed,
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 259
evidently with the intention of putting her other
lodger on his feet and making sure of his being
readv at the hour fixed, but she turned from the
bed with empty hands. With dumb motions for
eating and drinking, I ordered breakfast, and she
disappeared. When, an hour later, the team my
companion had engaged drove into the court, we
found she had understood and arranged everything
for us, and that a team in waiting — a double-seated
barouche, two horses and two bags of hay — was
standing ready at our service. As our vehicle was
the cheaper of the two, we begged the English-
speaking man, who had brought our team and
driver, to explain and make the matter right for
us.
We had a cosy, funny-looking carriage, like an
arm-chair for holding two persons ; on two wheels,
it swung as easy as a rocking-chair. The only
place for the driver was an iron step behind, about
two inches wide and four or hve inches long. We
looked at it and thought he had a tiresome journey
before him.
We were now fairly on our way to the heart of
Norway, to the midst of her wild beauties. Our
travel this day was one of those drives the picture
and memory of which remain fresh for a litetime.
All day long our road lay for the greater part
through pine forests whose grounds were carpeted
with thick beds of moss, variegated with the
26o LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
ripened brown and yellow of ferns. Sometimes
we came into the open country, and then our road
usually commanded the view of some beautiful
lake, some inland sea, often brincrinof us within
sight of waterfalls, and, oftener still, within sound
of their roarinof. The immense amount of fine
white marble astonished us ; huge, and smaller
boulders and rough-cut road posts of the same
material, and sometimes for a mile we could hardly
see any other stone. Now and then we came to
clearincrs where were a cluster of woodmen's
dweUings. This day, however, we saw but few-
people ; it was Norway fresh from her Creator's
hand, untouched and unpeopled bv civilization.
The birch is almost the only tree which divides
these wide reaches of forest with the pine. As the
latter is celebrated for its beauty in Norway, so
here, the birch, too, is remarkable for its size,
becoming a tall, majestic tree, whose graceful
branches remind us of the weeping willow, and
whose foliage relieves the otherwise monotonous
coloring of the pine.
Different as they are. there is yet much in
Norway that reminds one of Switzerland. The
vegetation is often similar, and there is the same
abundance of lake scenery, only here the vegeta-
tion is more verdant and more abundant, the
mountains are comparatively wanting in height,
and the same scene remains longer in view. What
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 26 1
I would make one of the prominent characteristics
of travel in Switzerland is the rapid changes in the
panorama. We were also reminded of Switzerland
by the houses ; indeed, in Norway we saw more
of what are usually called Swiss cottages than in
the former country. These houses are generally
lifted up, sometimes on wooden piles, sometimes
on heaps of stone, and consist of two cube-shaped
stories, the larger one on top of the smaller one
and projecting on all sides several feet beyond it.
The deep eaves of the pointed roof project again
far beyond the story below. One feels in looking
at these houses that a ton's weight more on one
side than on the other would tip them over. There
are comparatively few houses in the interior of
Norway built in any other fashion. These Swiss
cottages reminded me of having somewhere read
that in a certain valley in Switzerland the peasants
have a tradition that they are of Scandinavian
origin, that an ancient ballad preserves this history,
and that in Berne a play for children contains
certain odd, unintelligible words which also occur
in a play with which the children of Copenhagen
amuse themselves.
TiNosET, Septe?7ibe7', 1875.
262 LETTERS OF TRAVEL
XXV.
AUTUMN IN NORWAY— RURAL LIFE.
TARTING from Kongsberg- at a
reasonably early time of the morning, we
rode for some hours in our arm-chair-like
vehicle, now through forests of pine, now by the
borders of lakes or within sight or sound of
waterfalls. Never was weather more delightful
for travel ; the clear air of the later season was
still warm with the breath of Summer, and we
found Autumn in Norway speaking to us with all
the eloquence of the season in other lands, but
not in her usual tone of melancholy. Although
the golden hue of ripened ferns made more
golden the sunshine sifted through the trees, it
was to the unchanging evergreen foliage, perhaps,
that was owing that absence of a sentiment of
sadness which we always associate with the Fall
of the year. To us these beautiful days of
Autumn seemed glad as Spring. Our enjoyment
of beautiful cities, of monuments and the works
of man, overflows in words, but the power of
Nature can only measure itself by silence ; thus,
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 263
though the novelty of the scenery exhilarated our
spirits, it was with few words that we greeted
this new land, though we could feel our own pulse
throb stronger and quicker, responsive to the
wonderful beauty with which the heart of Norway
teemed.
Towards noon we arrived at a sort of halting
station called Bolkesjo, consisting of one house
and outbuildings, and bearing, I should guess from
the sign over the door, the name of the occupant.
To reach it we turned off from the road, where
cleared fields slanted down from the highway to a
large lake shut in on the opposite shore by low
mountains gradually rising toward the horizon.
We guessed afterwards that we were expected to
take dinner here; in fact, they showed us a bill of
fare, original in style, but very easy to read ; it
consisted first of being shown a wooden tray filled
with large speckled trout, fresh from the lake, then
of being taken into the store-house — a separate
building, in the style of a Swiss cottage — here
were the usual stores for the year, I suppose, of a
Norwegian household, with additional allowance,
perhaps, for the needs of the traveler. The scant
measure of a little dish of flour bespoke it a
luxury. There were also large pans of milk,
strings of dried fish, cheeses, pots of butter, and,
most curious of all, the bread just baked for the
year's consumption ; of this there was a pile, and
264 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
apparently made from unsifted oatmeal, from six
to eight feet high, baked in round sheets some
two feet in circumference, of the thickness and of
about the toughness of a piece of pasteboard. A
poor sick man, who was trying to entertain me by
showing me all around the farm, and vainly
endeavoring to converse, insisted on my tasting
the bread and cheese, which were indeed very
palatable. Thinking, I suppose, that I might be
fastidious or squeamish, he insisted on making
the already clean-looking knife, with which he cut
the cheese, still cleaner, and this he did by wiping
it several times up and down the leg of his
pantaloons, which certainly were not new.
All through Norway every particle of vegetation
is carefully turned to account. The fodder for
cattle is generally dried on upright frames, and
consists mostly of potato-tops and the leaves of
similar vegetables ; it looks almost pitiable to see
sometimes not more than a half-bushel of such
material being carefully dried, and as 1 traveled
through the country and saw so little land culti-
vated, so little to cultivate, I continually wondered
how the people lived. Often one sees a wood-
man's dwelling, its kitchen-garden, if, indeed, it
have any, not more than six feet square. These
people, I was told, depend on Christiana for such
supplies as are indispensable, for which they pay
with their wages as wood-cutters. Here at
LETTERS OF TRAVEL, 265
Bolkesjo I found in the barn a pretty good supply
of hay for the horses, and still more was drying
on frames outside, while on the ground was spread
out a large quantity of birch-leaves ; such caretully-
collected piles of these leaves had already on the
way excited our curiosity, and we now found that
dried birch-leaves constitute a large portion of the
winter food for cows. 1 did not resist the tempta-
tion of taking the rake from the hands of the
woman at work and turning over several new
leaves for myself.
Seeing that the proprietor of our team, whose
function as driver was almost a sinecure, had
finished his dinner and begun his pipe, we inquired
for the road to Tinoset, and requested, intelligibly
enough as we supposed, that he should be told to
follow. We walked on for an hour through a most
romantic forest road ; at last, having often looked
backwards in vain for our team, my companion
wisely concluded to return ; he found our man
contentedly smoking, apparently without the least
idea of following, and I do believe, left to himself,
he would have staid there a day or two, and then
have returned home. It was an hour worth the
hundreds of miles I had traveled, that which I
now, while waiting, spent alone m this strange
forest solitude. Half reclining upon the luxuriant
couch which the soft thick moss almost everywhere
covering the ground afforded, 1 looked around
17
266 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
Upon the graceful brown and yellow ferns damask-
ing the greener moss, and upwards where the tall,
stately pines, far above my head, spread out their
green branches, through which a rain of golden
sunshine fell, while old Dame Nature chanted in
my ears her old familiar story, but to music so
sweet, so strange, as if it were the song of a youth-
ful maiden wooed from some other sphere, and
glad in the arms of this, her rugged northern
lover.
We could hardly travel hour after hour, day in
and day out, without trying to establish some
verbal communication with our guide. As he
understood no language I could speak, I followed
the unreasonable idea of making up unheard-of
words as if he could better understand such. How-
ever, we soon became able by help of strange,
syllables and signs to entertain and to some degree
communicate with each other, and he expressed
his satisfaction at this by gathering for me quanti-
ties of blueberries and also a red edible berry
growing abundantly, close to the ground and much
resembling the cranberry, though sweeter.
In the latter part of the day we left the woods,
and the road became a succession of hills, by no
means in good traveling condition. The fashion
of managing a horse here is in some respects the
opposite of what it is with us. The horse is
taught to run at full speed down every hill he
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 267
comes to ; the driver whistles to slacken his horse's
speed, and to stay him he makes a peculiar noise
like that with which we sometimes entertain babies,
by trilling the lips and cheeks. I quite gained
the heart of our good-natured driver when I had
learned to make this noise sufficiently well to
control the horse, and after that he loaded me with
more berries than I could begin to eat, and from
coming to lift me out at the top of every steep
hill, every descent of a few feet brought him to
my side, making a Norwegian interrogation point
of his hand and arm.
We stopped on the road at but two places, the
second a clearing where was a scattered settlement
of a dozen woodmen's cottages. A well-dressed
girl of some sixteen years was carrying a load of
wood to one of her neighbors ; she sat upon the
ground and threw a rope over each shoulder ; on
these a man, apparently the father, laid a heavy
load nearly three feet in diameter ; she then pulled
the loose ends of the ropes forward, thus drawing
the load upon her shoulders, rose, and walked
down the road as if her burden was as lieht as
her heart probably was. It is difficult to imagine
many heart-breaking events amid such primitive
life.
It was towards night when we arrived at
Tinoset, and strangely novel as the scenery all
day had been, this was indescribably so. It
2 68 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
was a landscape in India ink, shaded in black and
white, without color. The light of day fell white,
reflected from the sky, upon a portion of the
long, comparatively narrow lake, the rest of the
lake was covered by a black shadow thrown
from the abrupt mountain-shore, the foliage of
whose dark pine forests was of invisible green ;
the other shore, whose margin was elevated
some feet above the level of the lake, was a
remarkably level plateau, an eighth of a mile
or less in width, extending back from the lake
to a perpendicular mountain-wall of rock, and
reaching from where we were to some distance
where a bend in the lake terminated our view ;
this dark, weather-beaten rock, almost as regularly
perpendicular as a mason's wall, borrowed a deep
shade from declining day, but a still deeper one
from the black mountain-forests opposite. This
steep mountain rock lent a decided Yosemitic
character to the scene, such as I have not seen
elsewhere in Europe.
The first attendant who came to wait upon us in
the neat, modest house for travelers here, did not
even understand the words tea and coffee, a most
unusual fact, but a second one succeeded better ;
judge then of our surprise at having our bill
presented, written in good English, the token left
behind evidently of some English traveler who had
preceded us. We were also surprised at the fine
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 269
china, glass and plated-ware with which the table
was spread for us in this rough, out-of-the-way
mountain nook. One of those little incidents
which speak so much to and for the human heart
occurred to me in this place, where we had hardly
been able to make ourselves understood by signs.
The next day, as I was about to kave, a delicate-
looking, rather more than middle-aged woman,
whom I had not before seen, went into the scant,
almost miserable-looking inclosure, which seemed
vainly aspiring to be a flower-garden, and gathered
all the flowers she could find. These she made into
a bouquet and gave it to me with a smile and a
friendly shake of the hand as I left. To fully
appreciate such a gift, one must be a stranger in a
strange land with a stranger language, and then,
perhaps, like me, he will wear it for days and at
last lay aside the dried, crumbling stems with a
tender feeling, reminding him that the human
heart is a unit and that the same blood runs in the
veins of all, warming to life the same deep centers
of sympathy.
TiNOSET, September, 1875.
270 LETTERS OF TRAVEL
XXVI.
LAKE TINN— THE OLDEST CHURCH IN NORWAY— DRESS
AND MORALS OF THE PEASANTRY.
E had intended to make Gausta the
furthest Hmit of our circular, or rather
triangular, tour westward from Chris-
tiania ; but from Tinoset it was necessary to
continue the journey by the Lake of Tinn. The
steamer, which had commenced making less
frequent trips than during the Summer, had left
the same day that we arrived, and as we would by
no means trust ourselves to a little row-boat in
which some drunken boatmen were anxious to
take us, and as we dared not at this season delay
the necessary three days before the steamer would
again make the trip, we were obliged to give it up.
Gausta is one of Norway's principal mountains ;
although but six thousand feet in height it
commands a very extensive view, reaching south
to the sea and north an equal distance to the
mountain range of Totunfjeldne. I n relinquishing
this part of our journey we were also obliged to
LETTERS OF TRAVEL, 27 1
give up seeino^ the Falls of Rjukan, seven hundred
and eighty feet in height and one of the finest in
all Europe. Then we knew, too, of the wild
mountain scenery beyond, where the valley
narrows more and more until a footpath, or trail as
we should call it, is the only possible road for the
traveler ; but, on the other hand, we had been
traveling continuously many weeks, which means,
in general, exhaustion from want of proper food,
weariness from want of sleep, and eyes tired from
looking, and if we were to go to Gausta we were
hardly fresh enough to feel equal to making its
long ascent. After all, the disappointment was not
so great as one might imagine, for we were so filled,
so overflowing, with wonder and delight at all the
strange landscape around us, that it was as if we
could not take in any more.
The morning view of Tinoset and its lake was of
the same extraordinary character as that of the
evening before, the same landscape in India ink,
only with more of light and less of shade. A more
weird, mysterious spot I think I have never seen
than this long and narrow lake of Tinn — its surface
half black, half white, itself shut in by dark, high
mountain walls destitute of vegetation, except
where forests of trees rising one above another
spread out a black banner of foliage, darkened
with age. It was very different from the landscape
of rich, dark green, and golden brown and yellow.
272 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
through which we had reached it. By thus
shortening the hmit of our journey we were able
to retain for another day the comfortable little
vehicle in which we had been traveling, and with
which — although we had already repeatedly
declared it the cosiest little carriage in the world— -
we were doubly pleased in comparing it with the
only vehicles we could obtain here, which were
nothing but square wooden boxes, sides and back
at ri^ht angrles with the seat, destitute of cushions
or springs.
Our road now turned nearly south, up hill and
down dale, gradually changing from steep barren
mountains to more verdant valleys, and finally
widening into an open country, where occasional
orchards, carefully planted groves of birch trees
and clean harvested fields, spoke of comparative
agricultural prosperity. Several times we had a
view of the pyramidal peak of Gausta, so that we
were at least able to say we had seen it.
We were to terminate our journey by land and
continue it by water on arriving at Lake Hitterdal,
a broad, open sheet of water, miles in length.
Within sight of it is the church of Hitterdal, one
of the oldest in Norwav. Here we straved into
the Sunday afternoon service. The church stands
a few rods back from the road, in a field separated
from the road by an ordinary wall of stones heaped
one upon another, and broken by a narrow, awk-
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 273
ward gate; through this we passed, walking over
the pathless grass. The church is an old wooden
building, around the walls of which are simple
carvings of dragons, etc., remarkable only for their
rudeness. It is a double building, a house within
a house; the two sets of walls, being three or four
feet apart, form between them a narrow corridor,
into which we first entered; the roug-h wood-work
at the sides, and the old stone slabs of the pave-
ment, trodden into the ground under the steps of
successive generations, gave an air of rude
antiquity. Ascending a few steps we entered the
inner building, which has been renovated with
new seats and flooring, while a few panes of purple
and orange-colored glass in the small windows of
its turrets, looked too new for the place.
The minister was a gray-haired old patriarch
who might well, indeed, have been the preacher
in Longfellow's beautiful translation of " The
Children of the Lord's Supper ; " reverend in
appearance and holy, so aged that one could
imagine he might already have caught glimpses
into that hereafter for which he would prepare his
flock. A younger man stepped out from the choir
of rugged, rustic youths ranged along either side
of the chancel, and dismissed the congregation
with the Lord's Prayer, while the aged priest
stood before the altar, his back turned toward the
congregation.
2 74 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
The latter made a rather picturesque assembly,
the men together in the pews on one side of the
single aisle, the women on the other. The women
were all dressed alike, and the men were also in
uniform dress, looking like a sisterhood of nuns
and a company of soldiers ; whether here invisible
currents of romance streamed from one side to the
other, whether even here Mammon claimed his
share of the worshiper's thought, least of all can
the stranger say, but certainly here was one place
of worship where the world of fashion and formal
vanity had never entered, and where it seemed to
the observer like the pure worship of simple hearts.
We passed out from the church, looking off at
one side to where green hillocks, overshadowed
by a few scattered trees, told the ever-recurring
tale of mortality.
Under the shade of a tree near the gate stood
two travelers, apparently English, prayer-book in
hand, having evidently joined in spirit in the
worship whose sound had floated out to them on
the calm Sabbath air. ■
Outside the gate the men of the congregation
immediately formed a group around one of their
number who read some business notice of sale or
bargain, the usual manner, time, and place, of
announcing matters of public interest.
The Norwegian peasantry are among the best-
dressed people, taken as a whole, I have ever seen.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 2/5
and one might think that at some stated time of
the year everybody puts on a whole new suit and
that this was the time. Not only did I see no old
or patched clothes, but the cloth, particularly that
which the men wore, was both strong and hand-
some. They wear dark-colored pantaloons which
reach nearly up to the arm-pit, also a cloth jacket
of a very light drab color, bordered with an
applique of black cloth some two inches wide, which
border is embroidered with bright-colored braids ;
the short fronts are yet a little longer than the
back, and are trimmed with two rows of thickly-
set tiny steel buttons with long loops of black
braid. These jackets are very short behind,
comingdown only across the middle of the shoulder-
blades. The pieces of the back are widened out
so as to allow of their forming two deep plaits,
which stand out in a sort of stiff ruffle between the
shoulders.
The gown of the women is invariably of a dark,
heavy, rather stiff cloth, and reaches only just
below the knee. The whole fulness of the skirt
is carried up to the shoulders, where it is gathered
into a band fitting around the neck which is covered
by a high chemisette. This enormous fullness,
which, of course, conceals all symmetry of figure, is
held in around the waist by a belt of a sort of
cashmere pattern ; the apron, of the same material
as the dress, is trimmed around with the same, as
276 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
is also the lower edtre of the skirt of the dress.
The head is covered with a black shawl, confined
around the neck so that one half is thrown up over
the head and the other falls over the shoulders. It
was these black-shawled heads on one side, and
the light, short, stick-out jackets on the other,
which gave the congregation in the church, bending
forward in their devotions, so peculiar and uniform
an appearance from the back seat where I had
placed myself The stockings of the women are
cut out from thick, black cloth ; they are clocked
or embroidered at the ankles and halfway to their
tops with a wool as coarse as carpet-yarn. I
examined several pair drying near one of the
houses, but I cannot say whether the ankle inside
corresponds with the measure of the stocking,
which was wide enough to allow of an embroidery
of full-sized red roses and spreading green leaves,
each vine being from three to four inches in width.
The Norwegian peasants are a healthy, moral,
fine-looking people, apparently innocent of every
vice — but one ; this one is drunkenness. As we
were driving, a noise behind us caused us to turn
our heads just in time to get out of the way of a
galloping team carrying two young men, both so
drunk that their heads had fallen forward quite on
their knees, and it was a puzzle to us how they
kept their places in the wagon. The loosely-held
reins failed to guide the horse, who went, some-
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 277
times at his own discretion, sometimes at his
driver's indiscretion, who, by fits and starts, would
retard or hasten his pace to keep near us, and for
several miles we could not get out of their way.
Again, awaiting the arrival of the steamer, we
were seated on a bank by the road-side leading
down to the lake; here we had a view through its
wide-open door into the interior of a cottage
opposite ; a lad of not more than fourteen or fifteen
years came staggering down the road so drunk
that he swung from one side of the doorway to the
other on entering the house ; it was a dreadful
sight, and I expected to see the father and mother
within struck with grief or anger, but they hardly
seemed awareof the boy's condition as he staggered
around the room, apparently senseless and aimless.
A few rods further on, between the house and
the lake, we came upon another young man, well
dressed as all the rest, lying dead drunk across
our pathway. This recalled to us our conversa-
tion with a Norwegian clergyman, who, seeking
to give us an idea of the characteristics of his
countrymen, had not refrained from acknowledg-
ing, though with evidently troubled spirit, this
baneful appetite, yet adding, as he asked if it were
as bad with us, that perhaps some excuse might be
found in their severe northern climate. This is
not unlike the views on the same subject that I
last Winter heard expressed by a man in a London
2/8 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
omnibus, who said he should Hke to have some of
those temperance preachers take his place, and
stand all day in cold water up to his waist and then
pour cold water inside ; he would like to see what
would become of the little partition between.
Lake Tinn, September, 1875.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 279
XXVII.
FALLS OF TINNEFOS— A NORWEGIAN INN— RETURN TO
CHRISTIANIA.
FEPV miles beyond the old church of
HItterdal is a noteworthy cataract —
that of Tinnefos — and, as our driver
told us we could find lodorinors near, we concluded
to make that our changing-point from land to
water travel. Quite a large river here falls over a
high precipice, making a cataract which might in
any country claim the right to be classed among
the tourist's gems. From the bridge on which we
crossed the river we had a good view of it, but
later we made our way through bushes and down
sloping banks to a spot quite near to it, where, half
reclining on a projecting rock, and yielding our-
selves to the luxurious abandon which the traveler
so enjoys amid the free landscapes of Nature's
solitudes in strange lands, we drank in for hours
deep draughts of the refreshing spirit of Norwegian
scenery. From the river the road ascends half a
28o LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
mile up a steep hill to the little house where we
were to stop ; still beyond, hill rises above hill,
and on the highest spot of all stands the country
school-house; thus, even in Norway, it is the same
old up-hill road to learning.
On this hill-top, when evening came, we spent a
wonderful sunset-hour ; the face of the glad sky
blushed from west to east as Apollo lingered so
long, lovingly holding open the gates of Day, and
when at last Night had gently closed them with
her sparkling bolts, the north star had stationed
himself high up toward the zenith, and the touch
of the clear, soft light dropping upon the earth
seemed to vibrate through the air like beautiful
music.
The house we had come to was evidently but a
sort of a way -side stopping-place for the refresh-
ment of man and beast ; consequently we were
shown to no room, until, tired of waiting lor such
attention, we took our umbrellas and shawls and
started up stairs, beckoning for some one to follow
us. There we were given a cozy little attic, with
white woolen blankets on the beds, a very little
circumstance to write about, but any one who has
ever made acquaintance with the blood-red bed-
coverings of southern Europe will appreciate their
significance ; truly, there is something more in
Italy than Italian art and Italian skies.
Opposite the house and on the other side of the
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 28 1
road were pine woods extending half a mile down
to the lake. Here we made sitting-room and
lounging place, still enjoying the fresh air fragrant
with purity. Sitting here we were, to our surprise,
accosted in English by a man who, as it proved,
had served many years in the navy of the United
States. He had learned to speak English with a
stronof Irish brogfue, and seemed also to have
o o
caught the Irish vivacity of character, the more
remarkable to us as we compared it with the quiet
character of his son, our host. He was as great
an anomaly here in these Norwegian wilds as is
Petrified Charley, the Swede, guide in the petrified
forest of California,
This man had risen from» landsman to quarter-
master, which he thought a "good billet ; " had
accompanied Commodore Perry's expedition which
opened the ports of Japan ; had served in the
Mexican war, and spoke of the pension due him for
which he had never applied. With genuine sailor
restleness he replied to some remark about being
contented to remain in his native land, that he
was stopping there for a while, but he thought of
taking a little voyage to England soon.
As one of those co-incidences which are always
occurring in life, one of our party had also been
in the United States navy, and here in this out-
of-the-way corner of the world the two mutually
recalled names familiar in memory to each. The
18
282 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
old man told of being on board the ship with
Herman Melville, midshipman, afterwards the
successful author of " Typee," etc. ; also with
another midshipman, who later rising to the rank
of Captain, died at Acapulco a few years ago as
Captain of the Saranac ; and while he told us of
the final fate of several, he too, in turn, learned
from my friend the good or evil fate of others.
Within the house the arrangements for cooking-
were a model of simplicity ; there was nothing but
an elevated hearth some two and a-half feet high
and five or six feet long ; there was neither crane
to hang a kettle upon, nor oven to bake in ; nothing
but three little iron triangles some two inches high,
on which the iron kettles were set over the coals
or the blazing sticks of the row of separate little
fires ; an iron pot and a triangle seem to be all
that is needed to commence housekeeping in Nor-
way ; with such a aiisine many of our fresh Irish
servant-girls would be saved great perplexity and
many a sufferer be cured of his dyspepsia. Yet
our simple meals here were a feast ; such tea I had
hardly tasted in all Europe ; fragrant coffee quite
innocent of chiccory or other alloy ; rich, thick
cream which we heaped on the boiled potatoes
white and lio^ht as the fresh-fallino- snow, and
sweet golden butter. We did not before know
that food so innocent of fraud still existed in the
world, and we left Tinnefos refreshed in body,
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 283
and in our faith in human nature, coffee and
cream.
At noon the next day, giving to a passing wagon
our baggage, which, since studying the science of
traveling, we find daily dwindling to smaller and
smaller proportions, we started on foot for the lake
and steamer ; a boatman rowed us out into the
middle of the lake, where the steamer stopped to
pick us up.
Our passage back to Christiania through the
lakes Hitterdal, Nordsjo, down the river Skien to
the canal of Lovejd, by which we cut across the
peninsula from the town of Skien to Laurvig, was
still as novel and charming as if it were our first
day's travel in Norway. The general view resem-
bled the Scottish lakes and Scottish scenery rather
than that of Switzerland. The sentiment, if I
may so speak, of Lake Hitterdal is not unlike
that of Loch Lomond. Later in the day we came
in sight of farm-houses at sociable distances, with
orchards and fields, and finally to towns of consid-
erable business, generally in lumber.
At Skien, where we passed the night, we trusted
to the promise of the best-natured-looking landlord
in the world to wake us in season for the morning
boat ; but good nature is not always a reliable
foundation to build upon, as we found the next
morning when obliged to hunt up a servant to
unlock the door for us as we made a runnine exit
284 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
from the hotel, half our wardrobe and toilet
articles dangling from our hands.
From Laurvig to Christiania we made, for the
second time, the trip through Christiania Sound,
but as it has two channels separated by long, low
islands, and as our first voyage was up the easterly
passage, and this through the westerly one, we
did not exactly repeat our journey.
Our travel in Norwav was at an end, and we
reviewed our Norwegian tour with a feeling of
most complete satisfaction. We had had the
delight of looking upon beautiful scenery, which,
being not yet worn threadbare by the scratch of
the traveler's pen, seemed a fresh creation. We
had lived among a thoroughly happy, contented
and prosperous people ; not a sign of misery and
poverty had we anywhere seen. If we had some-
times wondered what people found to think about
in their lonely forest homes, we yet knew that
every one could read and write, and had received
a certain degree of mental and moral education.
A universal air of decency and dignity prevailed,
while nowhere had we seen a naturally stupid or
brutal countenance ; even those whom we had
seen under the cloud of drunkenness were peace-
able, while their good clothing bespoke industry
and self-respect in other directions. And over
all this hung an apparently universal satisfaction
with their Government, which protects without
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 285
Oppressing, and the ready, hearty tone in which
everybody whom we questioned replied, "We
have the best Government in the world," carried
with it a conviction of their sincerity, and a
conviction that they are a free and happy people.
Christl\nla, September, 1875.
286 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
XXVIII.
SWEDEN AND ITS LAKES— A SWEDISH INN.
WE DEN loses greatly thereby when the
traveler in Scandinavia visits Norway
before seeing the former country, for
Sweden is picturesque enough with a beauty of its
own, but in comparison with Norway it is tame
and unromantic. I speak only of the south of
Sweden, as we did not get farther north than
Upsula ; but if we did not see it in its whole
length, we did see it in its widest breadth from
west to east, making the journey from Christiania
to Stockholm, which requires exactly two days by
rail, stopping over night to sleep. The striking
feature of the south of Sweden is her lakes, and
although these are exceedingly charming and
pretty, and oftentimes still more than these
commonplace words express, it is yet in Sweden
one learns that what shading is to a picture,
mountains are to a lake ; you may see a thousand
mountain lakes, one after another, and ever find
the last more charming ; but in a level country,
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 287
however fine the coloring of the surrounding
landscape, they soon begin to lose in expression,
then you weary of them a little, and at last you
think — to yourself if with natives and aloud if with
foreigners like yourself — what a wet, swampy
country this must be. But although Norway may
be the favorite with the traveler in search of
the picturesque, the agriculturist would certainly,
prefer the more fertile soil, the gentle undulating
fields and extensive meadows of Sweden.
There was a sort of attraction in the names Lake
Wenern and Lake Wettern, names familiar from
early school-days, which made us feel that we
must certainly voyage across these lakes, but after
traveling all along the northern shore of the
former, we found that we had a sufficiently good
idea of it and we had no longer any desire to
embark upon either of them.
Lake Wenern is the largest lake in Sweden,
having an area of ninety-five geographical square
miles ; its greatest length and greatest breadth are
apparently about equal, its coast line is very
irregular, broken by deep inlets and jutting
peninsulas ; it has also several important islands ;
thirty rivers empty into it.
The form of Lake Wettern, which is but half
the size of Wenern, having an area of only thirty-
four geographical square miles, is very different
from that of the latter lake. Nearly as long, it is
288 LETTERS OF TRAVEL
very narrow in proportion to its length, and it has
a comparatively regular coast line ; ninety rivers
empty themselves into it, while it has but one for
an outlet — the Motala-Elf. This lake is subject
to terrible tempests which often arise in a moment ;
it is noted for its strong- currents, its whirlpools,
and especially for its magnificent mirages. Both
lakes have an average depth of about four hundred
feet.
Not long after leaving Christiania we came within
sight of the river Glommen, along whose banks the
railroad runs for some distance. Soon after sunset
we had made the distance to Lake Wenern, and
alono- its coast to Kristinehamm, a little town but
yet quite important as a market-place for iron.
Standing on the steps of the depot considering in
which direction weshould turn for a night's lodging,
we saw, not many rods distant, a respectable-
looking two-story house with a terribly hard-
looking name, and although we would not have
objected to walking a little further in the pleasant
twilight, we had learned the full value of lodgings
conveniently near a railroad station when obliged
to be in season for an early morning train. Once
within this house we found it a specimen of the
most extreme neatness ; our large, square room
seemed actually brilliant with cleanliness ; there
was not a thread of carpet on the floor to cover the
exceeding whiteness of its plain boards ; perhaps
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 289
the particular kind of wood was capable of being
scoured to a purer white than any wood we have,
but whether the merit lay in the wood or in the
housekeeper, I shall never be able to picture to
myself rural life in Sweden without having in the
foreground a floor of dazzling whiteness. Then,
besides, there were on the beds real clean sheets
whose freshness was sweet as perfume ; I say real
clean because in Europe there are two kinds of
clean beds, real clean and make-believe clean, and
even in the best European hotels it is not easy to
find a bed of the former character. The make-
believe clean is the result of taking sheets already
used, sprinkling them sufficiently to remove the
wrinkles, then folding them and pressing them in a
rolling machine or mangle ; the tired traveler turns
back the bed clothes the next night, examines
them, probably by the dim light of a tallow candle,
and accepts the deep, fresh creases as a warrant
of cleanliness.
Served in such a room as we found here of
course we could not but relish our supper,
especially when waited upon by one of the
brightest, tidiest little bodies in the world — it
seemed as if her very clothes were made of good
nature. After supper we went out to take a stroll
under the beautiful evening-sky and enjoy a
moonlight view of Lake Wenern. On returning,
I found the good-natured house-maid hostess
290 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
deeply absorbed in reading my book of German
and Swedish phrases. She looked up, smiled,
nodded, and then went on reading until I was at
last obliged to remind her of what she had come
into the room to do. Afterward, she was as
pleased and delighted as a child in teaching me to
pronounce various words, almost indispensable to
our comfortable travel in Sweden. I ordered
potatoes for breakfast with perfect confidence in
making myself understood, for the word is spelled
nearly the same as in our language, but as she
shook her head again and again, I at last
showed her the word which she pronounced by
transposing all the vowels, as it seemed to my
English ears.
As we wished to exchange some Danish money,
our attendant offered to bring some one to do it ;
thereupon appeared at our door an exceedingly
well-dressed man with broad face and still broader
smile, and behind him a friend, evidently to keep
him in countenance in presence of the Eyiglanders,
as they took us to be. The foreign gold-piece was
looked upon as a curiosity desirable to possess,
and as we knew its approximate value the exchange
was soon made.
The men were overflowing with a sort of hospit-
able amiability, not diminished by the effects of a
little stimulant evidently taken just before their
visit ; hence, the business completed, there they
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 29 1
remained, speechless, except what their broad-
smiHng. good-natured faces and friendly-beaming
eyes said, yet were they unwilHng to go without
in some other way bidding us welcome. Finding
the duty of dismissing them devolving upon
ourselves, we thanked them, shook hands with
them and bade them good night, then they shook
hands with us and bade us good night, but still
remained standing where they were, unsatisfied
or uncertain whether to go or stay ; so we again
shook hands with them, then they with us, and
thus, reciprocally smiling, nodding and hand-
shaking, we gradually approached the door, where
they were at last enabled to make their exit with
a final bow, smile and good night.
Our attendant now finished her arranoements in
the room giving a good-natured air to everything
she touched. A glass of fresh, cool water was
thoughtfully placed by the bedside, and one more
extra rub and polish given to the toilette-table ;
then, as she turned to leave the room, to our
repeated warnings not to forget to wake us in
season, she nodded and laughed again as she took
the key to our room in her hand, went out, and
carefully locked us in from the outside ; after that
manoeuver we felt that she had indeed taken upon
herself the responsibility of our morrow's journey.
The next morning, finding we could take a
train an hour later than we had intended, we had
292 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
time to enjoy the outside of the house, which was
surrounded on all sides by a flower-garden, and
seldom, for the same size, have I seen a rarer
assortment of colors or more beautiful collection of
flowers. I found myself continually exclaiming
with delight, but when I came to a bed of golden
escholtzias, a flower I had not seen since leaving
California, I stood and gazed in silent pleasure
and felt as if it were a greeting from home. The
abundance of flowers warranted my picking a
bouquet for myself, my only embarrassment,
where all were so beautiful and many so new to
me, being to decide which to choose.
In all our travels we have seldom been more
agreeably entertained than in this unpretending
house — half home, half hotel ; there was in all such
regard for nicety and comfort, all was so bright
and clean that we began to wish all the world was
a Swedish country-inn. and there was such a
cheery, cheerful air about everybody and every-
thing, that we left the litde place with the impres-
sion that Kristinehamm is the most good-natured
place in Christendom.
Our second day's travel across Sweden was not
essentially different from that of the previous day.
except that the landscape, perhaps, became more
watery. There have been many expensive canals
constructed in Sweden connecting its various lakes.
vSomehave been cut through solid rock at immense
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 293
expense, but as the system of railroads widens out
year by year over the country, its canals gradually
become less important both for trade and travel.
Baron Ericsson has distinguished himself as the
constructor of many such works of civil engineer-
inor. Amono- the various others the Gota Canal
is the best known to the world ; it has fifty-three
locks, occupied twenty-two years in its construction,
and cost upwards of fourteen million rix-dollars,
or a little less than four millions of our money.
Including Lake Wenern, Lake Wettern, and other
lakes whose waters it connects, it extends the
whole distance across the south of Sweden and
connects the North Sea with the Baltic.
Lake Wenern, 5^/>/^;«^^7', 1875.
294 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
XXIX.
STOCKHOLM— HOUSE OF EMANUEL SWEDENBORG—
ROYAL PALACE— HOTELS.
^ TOCKHOLM, the capital of Sweden,
claims, from its situation, to be ranked
among the most beautiful cities of Europe,
and in this respect Constantinople is, by some,
considered its only rival. Neither like Copen-
hagen, lying low like a floating flower, nor like
Naples, rising amphitheatre-like above its blue
walls, it is built on many rocks and islands of
unequal height and size, that are washed on the
east by the Baltic Sea and on the west by Lake
Maelar, whose broad, open waters seem almost
more sea-like than the Baltic itself, dotted as the
latter is with thick-set rocks and islets. From its
higher points it is easy to get a bird's-eye view of
the city, to see the mingling waters of sea and lake
intersecting it like broad and winding streets, and
the numberless bridijes, sometimes lono-, sometimes
hardly a couple of rods in length, like a mesh of
slender threads spun from isle to isle. Of course
the impression of a city like this, variegated with
blocks of well-built houses alternating with its
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 295
Streets of liquid-blue lined with the white sails of
shipping, cannot be otherwise than cheerful and
pleasing, while its most magnificent buildings all
have, either from choice or necessity, an open and
imposing foreground.
In its narrowest sense, the city of Stockholm is
built on but three islands, which lie directly in the
channel, almost blocking it up, where the waters
of Lake Maelar and the Baltic unite ; these three
islands are named in the order of their size —
Stadsholmen, or the Isle of the City, on this the
palace of the king is built — Riddarsholmen, or the
Isle of the Knights, where we find the principal
government buildings — and Helgeandsholmen, or
the Isle of the Holy Spirit, a very small island
where the royal stables are the principal thing of
interest.
But as the City of London constitutes but a
small part of Metropolitan London, so these
islands are but the kernel of Stockholm, which
spreads out at the north and northeast in two
large faubourgs built on a peninsula, and at the
south makes an equally large faubourg occupying
two or three islands, one of them almost the
largest in these waters ; besides this, Stockholm
covers several other islands, amonof which is
Kungsholmen, or King's Island, while the eastern
part of the city still embraces four islands lying
wholly in the waters of the Baltic and collectively
296 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
known under the poetical name of the " Isles of the
Sea." On Kungsholmen we find the Mint, Insane
Asylum, City Hospital, Military College, Orphan
Asylum and the principal factories of Stockholm.
On Castelholmen we have the citadel. Longhol-
men is mostly occupied by the Penitentiary, and,
in short, we find so many islands, each with its
almost characteristic group of buildings, that
Stockholm seems like an illustration of our old
proverb with a difference — an island for everything
and everything on its island. In connection with
the southern faubourg I must not forget to men-
tion a spot of great interest to many American
travelers, the house and garden of Emanuel
Swedenborg.
With scarcely a follower or believer in all
Sweden — a prophet without honor in his own
country — here he was looked upon, as I learned to
my great surprise, as a half-insane charlatan, and
hence it is not to be wondered at that this is a
neglected, dirty spot whose associations its nearest
neighbors know little or nothing about. The
house in which he lived is occupied by tenants of
the poorer class of people; what is called his
" study " is a small wooden house in the garden,
and this is unoccupied and entirely empty, though
kept tolerably clean-swept. One is fortunate if,
after a dozen inquiries in the immediate neighbor-
hood, he finds any one to conduct or direct him
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 297
to the spot. The garden is a kind of back-yard
partitioned off from a common court surrounded
by a block of buildings, and it is only accessible
throuQfh one of these houses. The front of
this little garden-house presents a door two or
three steps from the ground, and a small window
with outside wooden shutters on either side of the
door ; a low, attic room under the slanting roof is
shown as the place where, in his inspired moods,
he often passed the night; the doorway is shaded
by trees, one of which is said to have been planted
by his own hand; every visitor is allowed to break
off or cut a memento from a beam inside the
house, and to carry away as many leaves from the
tree as he chooses; nature sends a fresh supply
of leaves every year and new beams as often as
they are needed. One would think that some of
Swedenborg's wealthy followers in our own country
might well do something toward the preserva-
tion and cleanly maintenance of this spot which
should be almost sacred to them.
The Royal Palace, from its size, and open,,
exposed position, is one of the most prominent
buildings in Stockholm, It is situated on an
eminence on the northeastern corner of the island of
Stadsholmen, a carriage-road only intervening, on
these two sides, between the broad, open arm of
P the sea and its lofty walls; from its northern ram-
parts a fine granite bridge extends first to the
19
298 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
island of Helgeandsholmen, and then to the oppo-
site shore, where a spacious square corresponds
with the palace crowning its opposite extremity;
this square bears the name of Gustavus Adolphus,
whose statue ornaments its center; the three sides
of the square are occupied respectively by a fine
hotel, the palace of the Crown Prince, and the
opera house. The Royal Palace is a quadrangular
building of grand proportions, 418 feet from north
to south by 392 feet from east to west; it is built
around a court 300 feet long by 262 feet in width;
this court is entered on its four sides by four grand
portals built in the walls of the palace. The
northern portal, the rampart leading to which is
named from its two colossal bronze lions on granite
pedestals, bears the coat-of-arms of Sweden, a
triple crown supported by Fame; its southern
wall Is ornamented by trophies of war; its western
front bears enormous caryatides in stone with nine
medallion portraits representing the kings of
Sweden from Gustavus I. to Charles IX.; under
the portico of the eastern entrance is a colossal
group representing History recording the exploits
of Gustavus the Great; this portal is the private
entrance of the royal family and is approached
through the private gardens which, sloping down
from the palace wall, command a fine view out into
the Baltic, and down upon the shipping anchored
at the long line of wharves.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 299
Notwithstanding the almost unequaled position,
commanding as it does, sea and city, the palace is
magnificent only in position and size; its long line of
comparatively plain brown walls gives it a barrack-
like aspect. Within, the stairways are grand
in proportion and beautiful in outline, but inferior
in richness to many other European palaces; the
family living-rooms, too, were too high, too square,
and too plain to look really social and home-like,
and seemed to want the charm of taste in arrange-
ment, particularly (to my thinking at least) where
table-sets of valuable service-china ornamented the
walls instead of pictures; a cabinet containing a
tea-service belonging to Marie Antoinette was
more interesting. A room called the Porcelain
Cabinet, also seemed to me more curious than
pretty, although its furniture is said to be very
valuable. This was bought by Gustavus III.
and is wholly of Dresden china; it consists of
etageres, picture-frames and mirror-frames, wall-
brackets, a whole chimney-piece surmounted by a
high mirror, vases, candlesticks, candelabra and
chandelier and tables, all made of porcelain; the
tops of the tables are fine landscape views painted
on china; all the rest is ornamental, representing
leaves, vines, flowers, birds, etc. The chairs were
upholstered, the frames only being of porcelain.
The hotel accommodations here are excellent,
and the Grand Hotel of Stockholm is one of the
300 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
finest in Europe, and really worth being visited
for its beauty. The passages are called streets
and are named from different cities, and thus your
room is known as 26 New York Street, or 81
Paris Street, etc. If I were to mention one thing
more elephant than another in the mag'nificent
dining-hall it would be the two beautiful porcelain
stoves. These must be sixteen feet or more in
height. The lower part is of the size and shape
of our marble mantels, with grate and mantel-shelf;
the stove continues upward like a broad chimney
terminating in a cornice-like ornamentation. The
whole is of beautiful porcelain, the principal color
beinor a delicate blue with lines of o-old. Above
the mantel-shelf is a deep niche in which stands a
graceful urn or vase, matching the rest in material
and color; the vases are between two and three
feet in height and both stoves are alike. The
walls of the reading-rooms are maps and railroad-
routes in plaster. The smoking-room is almost
entirely of porcelain, an admirable arrangement in
point of cleanliness; the ceiling and side walls
are of the same material ; in the centre of the
room stands a curious, fanciful-shaped, porcelain
stove.
There were elegant apartments, one of the
finest of which was awaiting the arrival of Ole
Bull, who here shares the usual fate of a prophet
in his own country, where is told a sad tale of
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 3OI
his first marriage with bitter fruit of infelicity
and insanity ; yet who shall say that the incom-
parable notes of this unique artist so child-like
simple yet so grand as he was wont to stand
before us, were not the echo from a finely strung
nature quivering under the stroke of a concealed
disappointment— were not expressed from a suffer-
ing soul by the costly alchemy of sorrow.
Stockholm, September, 1875.
302 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
XXX.
STOCKHOLM— PUBLIC BUILDINGS— ROYAL MAUSOLEUM
TOCKHOLM, skipping about from island
to islet and up and down over the rocks,
wears the cheerful air of comparative
youth on the face of most of her buildings; yet is
she not wanting in those of that historical associa-
tion which makes an unbroken link between the
heroes of antiquity and those of kindred modern
renown. Of all such buildings we find the most
interesting on Riddarsholmen, one of the three
islands which constitute the original site of the
city, and which is, perhaps, the most interesting
of all. In an open square in its center stands a
bronze statue in armor, erected in 1854 by the
citizens of Stockholm to Birger Jarl, regent during
the minority of his son Waldemar whom the
people elected their king very early in the thir-
teenth century. Birger Jarl is considered the
founder of Stockholm, for although under its
present name it has a history — doubtfully authen-
tic — extending back to the fifth century, it was he
LETTERS OF TRAVEL, 303
who first appreciating the importance of its situa-
tion, erected walls around the Isle of the Citv and
built upon it two towers, one on a precipice
commanding the Baltic, where the waters were of
considerable depth, the other commanding the
southern strait between the lake and the sea ; he
thus protected the city and fortified the entrance
to Lake Maeler. In 1272 King Waldemar removed
his capital from Upsala to Stockholm, which has
ever since remained the capital and chief citj' of
Sweden.
Near this square stands the Equestrian Palace,
the former House of Lords of the Swedish Diet,
both departments of which, however, since its
reconstruction, occupy the Houses of Parliament
built on this same island. Thus the Equestrian
Palace stands to-day an interesting and elegant
historical monument. In front of it is a statue
erected by the nobility to Gustavus Vasa, in the
year 1773, on the two hundred and fiftieth anni-
versary of that King's entrance into Stockholm.
The outer front of the palace is ornamented with
allegoric statues and Latin inscriptions ; the halls
of its interior are decorated with the coats-of-arms
of all the royal families of Sweden and with
numberless portraits of distinguished Swedish
nobles.
But the most interesting building of all is
Riddarholmskyrkan — the Church of the Eques-
304 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
trian Isle, or Isle of Knights. This is no more,
in fact, a church, but a royal mausoleum. It is
often called the Westminster Abbey of Sweden,
unhappily, I think, for a Westminster Abbey must
have, withal, its gende minstrels of song and poesy
— its artists of peace and the peaceful arts, while
the Church of the Equestrian Isle echoes but with
the martial notes of war and records the deeds of
warriors.
For nearly one hundred years it hasbeen stripped
of all the paraphernalia of church ceremonies,
except the altar-piece and the organ in a gallery
extending across one end only of the church ; it
has a chime of bells heard only on the occasion of
the death of some member of the royal family, or
of a Knight of the Royal Order of the Seraphim.
We enter and stand in the nave of the church,
nearly two hundred feet long and a third as wide ;
it is destitute of seats and unbroken by columns,
while its whole floor is a pavement of flat stones
covered with the names of distinguished men to
whom this registry of their names is the only
monument to their memory. Along each side of
the nave of the church are a row of side-chapels,
each of which is the sepulture place of a company
of illustrious warriors, and each of which contains
a rich sarcophagus. Picture to yourself these
chapels, the walls and sides almost concealed by
the trophies of victory, flags and clusters of
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 305
Standards that have been captured or defended on
the battle-field by the very warriors over whose
moldering dust they here droop ; on the floor
irregular heaps of drums, kettle-drums, bows and
other relics of war, make an indescribably strange
impression in this hall of tombs, and I found
myself wondering whether if one but dared to beat
upon one of those drums whose notes had often
roused so many a sleeping warrior, if, at its sound,
the dead would not spring from their tombs, and,
seizing the familiar standards there at hand, fill the
empty space with a ghostly army. I can hardly
conceive of a person standing for the first time in
this temple of death and war, without having his
imagination strangely and supernaturally moved.
The chapel nearest to the altar on the right is
called the Gustavian Chapel ; its architecture is
Gothic, and it is lighted by seven long, narrow
windows ; it is the burial place of several royal
personages, but isdedicated principally to Gustavus
the Great, the champion of Lutheran Protestant-
ism, who died on the battle field of Lutzen ; his
remains are enclosed in a sarcophagus of green
marble, a piece of Italian sculpture ; on a marble
slab is the following inscription in Latin ; " He
braved dangers, loved piety, overcame his enemies,
enlarged hisdominions, exalted his nation, liberated
the oppressed and triumphed in death."
Opposite this chapel at the left of the altar is
306 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
the Chapel of the Charles, in which, however,
several other persons have found sepulture. As
we stand in the street or square outside of the
church and look at this chapel, which was added
to the main building in the latter part of the
seventeenth and the beginning of the eighteenth
century, w^e read the following inscription in Latin
on the upper part of its outer walls :
" Erected to the eternal memory of the three
Charles, Charles X.. Charles XL, Charles XI L,
of Sweden ; the first conquered four provinces ;
the second victoriously defended them ; the third
preferred rather to die as ruler than not to keep
what others had won."
As may well be imagined, none of the sepulchral
chapels are so crowded with emblems, trophies
and relics of war as this ; the sarcophagus which
ornaments it contains the bodv of Charles XI L;
it is of white marble on a pedestal of green marble,
and partially covering its top is an ornament in
gilt-bronze representing a lion's skin bearing the
name Carolus XI L, and on this skin area crown,
sceptre and sword, likewise in gilt-bronze.
It cannot be disputed that Sweden is proud of
her Charles XII., for how could she help being
so when all the world is proud of him '^ But it is
pretty hard for a nation when such remarkable glory
as was won for it and himself by this wonderful
man, is paid for in the financial ruin, extensive
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 307
loss of territory and enormous depopulation of his
kingdom. Every man in the nation seems to feel
it and almost to smart under it still, and we did not
speak with any one Swede concerning his Charles
XII., who did not betray that his feeling of pride
was a modified one ; it was as if he said with a
sigh, "Yes, we are proud to have had him, but
we would rather dispense with such glory in the
future — it costs too much." In short, they have
put to themselves the question so often asked by
us all, "Does it pay?" and, like ourselves oft-
times, are obliged to reply in the negative.
In the King's Park, in another part of the city,
is a splendid gilt-bronze statue of Charles XII.
At the base of the high granite pedestal are four
cannons taken by him in war. The attitude is
striking and commanding ; in one gauntleted hand
is his sword, the other is pointing forward. He
is represented as tall and .slender, of the most
erect figure imaginable ; the same long, elliptical
face without beard that we always see in his
portraits ; forehead high but not broad ; large
nose, full lips and prominent chin, such as it is
difficult to imagine in a face characterized on the
whole by an almost extreme delicacy; add to this
an expression which inspires enthusiasm for him,
and which one can readily conceive might inspire
his soldiers with the power and the certainty of
victory. It is the embodiment of the very spirit
308 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
of youth and genius, so winning that even his
faults become virtues, and one's admiration grows
into love.
Among other remarkable things to be seen in
the Church of the Equestrian Isle, are the shields
of the deceased knights of the Royal Order of
Seraphims. These number some hundreds and
are placed close together, covering a large space
on the walls ; they are black and apparently of
tin ; each is less than a foot square, and bears
only the name of the Knight, the date of his
decoration with the Order, and that of his death.
1 believe none but Crowned Heads or royal
consorts receive this decoration, and it is only at
the death of the Knight that his shield is placed
here; that of Napoleon III. was the latest. Here
also were the shields of Napoleon I. and of
Albert, late Prince Consort of England. Cath-
erine the Great is the only woman who has ever
received the honor of being decorated with this
Order. As the guide was calling our attention
to different names of note, I playfully asked him
if there were none from America, when he
immediately pointed to the shield of the
unfortunate Maximilian, Emperor of Mexico.
The exterior of the Equestrian Church is quite
picturesque, although less ancient in appearance
than in reality, owing to the extensive repairs
made since its considerable injury by lightning in
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 309
the year 1835 ; but its tower of open ifon-work
three hundred feet high, the gothic style of the
main building, and the several chapels added to
the oricjinal buildinyf no two of which are alike in
size or architecture, give it a pleasingly original
character.
Stockholm, September, 1875.
3IO LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
XXXI.
STOCKHOLM'S MUSEUM— MYTHOLOGY IN STATUARY AND
PAINTINGS— RELICS.
VERY orem of architecture is the
National Museum in Stockhohn, and
its site is most favorable to the showing-
off of the beauty of its exterior. It is built on
the extremity of a peninsula, with only a broad
avenue between it and the surrounding granite
quay which throws back the waves of the Baltic;
directly opposite, on the other shore of this arm
of the sea rises the Royal Palace. The Museum
is of granite and marble, a modern building
three stories high and only about ten years old.
Its front is ornamented with marble statues and
busts of Sweden's distinguished scholars in
letters and science. Entering beneath the portico
of green marble your eye takes in the beauty of
the interior from foundation to roof. On each
side of the grand entrance-hall is a semi-circular
marble stairway ; these% two meet on the first
story at the foot of another marble stairway
which reaches like an inclined plane to the upper
story. Looking up then from the vestibule, you
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 3 I I
have before you the broad stairway reveahng the
whole depth of the building, with spacious
surrounding halls supported by marble columns,
lighted from the roof of glass, and richly filled
with statuary, for these broad central corridors
constitute part of the galleries of sculpture. In
the lower hall within the semi-circle formed by the
stairs stand two colossal marble statues, while a
third corresponding one looks down upon them
from the first landing and completes this group
which receives us and introduces us to the halls
of Scandinavian history and Scandinavian art.
These three statutes represent Odin, Thor and
Balder, the three great gods of the mythology of
the north, whose memory modern civilization
perpetuates in Odin's or Wodin's day (Wednes-
day), and Thor's day (Thursday).
Scandinavian polytheism presents itself to us
under two aspects; the one, allegoric or mythologic;
the other, historical; in the one, Odin corresponds
to the Jupiter of Grecian mythology, his name
sometimes signifying the heavens or the sky, as
Jupiter sometimes represented the Aether personi-
fied ; in the other Odin, the leader of invading
conquerors from Asia, becomes King of Scandi-
navia and High Priest.
In the Odinic polytheism we meet with the
Gods and the Giants ; the former typifying
creative and preserving powers, the latter devas-
312 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
tating and destructive powers. The Giants
existed prior to the Gods, as chaos, disorder, and
darkness preceded creation, order and light ; and
they dwelt in subterranean darkness, inventing
maliofn influences on man. The Gods inhabited
celestial regions, dwelt amid delights, and occupied
themselves with beneficial influences.
In a historical aspect, the Giants were the
aboriginal inhabitants of Scandinavia, who resisted
the introduction into their country of the religion
of their invading conquerors. The natives, or
Giants, had not yet learned the art of weaving
cloth or of tanning hides ; they protected them-
selves from cold by wearing the skins of beasts,
and as they did not remove from them the head
and horns, this added greatly to their apparent
stature and gave them so fierce an appearance,
that their enemies ascribed to them the united
natures of man and of beast. Such is probably a
mode of dress common to all savages, as the first
Carthaginian and Phoenician navigators who
landed on the British Isles, to introduce commerce
there, report that these Islands were inhabited by
giants with human bodies and heads of wolf, boar,
wild-bull. etc.
The Odinic mythology is preserved to us in
two books called the two Eddas, Edda being the
Icelandic word signifying great-grandmother or
ancestress; it was given by the first compiler, a
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 313
Christian native priest born in 1054, to the first
of these books known as the Elder Edda, in
contradistinction from the younger or prose Edda.
One of the books of the Elder Edda is known
as The Sublime Discourse of Odin. It consists
of a series of moral maxims reminding one of the
Proverbs of Solomon. One of them reads thus :
"The foolish man watches all the night and thinks
of many things. When the morning comes he is
wearied, and his grief still remains with him;"
another: "Thy troops shall die, thy friends shall
die, and thou thyself shalt die; but a good name
shall live forever ;" a third : " The best pro-
vision the traveler can take with him is wisdom.
In a strange place it is worth more than gold."
If this last be true, we must have left our wisdom
at home, for thus far in our travels we have always
found our money our best friend. The mytho-
logical portion of the Edda makes Odin the father
of man and of the Gods. He created the world
by throwing the body of the giant Ymir into the
primeval abyss, which abyss was bordered on the
north by the region of darkness, and on the south
by the region of fire ; from the flesh of this giant
was created the land, from his blood the sea, from
his bones the mountains, from his hair the forests,
from his skull the heavens, whose stars are sparks
that flew from the southern region of fire, and
from his brain the haze and fogs ; the latter, by
20
314 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
the way, is no compliment to his clear-headedness.
The worms developed from the corrupted flesh
of Ymir became that mischievous but skillful race
of dwarfs who play so conspicuous a part in
Northern mythology. One day, as Odin and his
brothers were taking a walk, they met two
embryo trees, an ash and an alder. Odin breathed
into them the breath of life ; his brother eave
them intelligence ; and the third, blood and a
beautiful countenance. Thus were created man
and woman, and then began the grand cycle of
the destinv of created beings. Afterwards, in a
terrible combat between the Giants and the Gods,
the world was destroyed and Odin perished.
Valhalla, meaning the chosen hall, was a grand
salon in the celestial palace of Odin, where he
received the Gods and deified heroes, and spread
banquets before them. Warriors who distinguished
themselves upon the field of battle, were borne
thence by the Valkyries, celestial virgins, and
transported to Valhalla ; there they were re-
suscitated, and Eir, the Goddess of Medicine,
healed their wounds by pouring upon them the
juice of the beet root.
Thor, the God of thunder, was the son of Odin;
Balder was also his son, the mother being Frigga,
from whom we have PVigga's day, or Friday.
She was the goddess of marriage, the Juno of
Northern mythology.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
O'D
Balder was the most beautiful and amiable of
beings, beloved by all. The mythology of the
North had conceived the idea of life in the world
as a struggle between good and evil powers ;
between the Giants and the Gods. The world
was to come to an end by a final combat between
the two, in which the Giants should prevail, but
so long as Balder the Good lived, they were
secure. Dreams prophesy to the latter his
approaching destiny, but his mother engages the
divinities to unite in demanding of all nature to
spare the life of Balder, her son. Odin commands
fire and light to do him no harm ; /Eglr, the
Neptune of the North, holds back the sea from
assailing him ; Freya, the Northern Venus, rules
the air, her empire, in his favor ; and Frigga
controls the earth and all that it brings forth.
Only one little fragile plant was forgotten — a
branch of mistletoe. Of this Loki, the spirit of
Evil and Deceit, engaged the dwarfs to make an
arrow, and, placing it in the hands of a blind
brother of Balder, who loved him most of all, at a
sort of tournament given by the Gods to prove
the invulnerability of Balder, the arrow flew and
Balder fell dead at its touch. Loki, as punish-
ment for his crime, was chained among the rocks,
where, from a serpent suspended over his head,
drops of venom continually fall upon his face.
Afterwards the earth is destroyed by a sea of fire,
3l6 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
but from its molten waves arises a new earth,
over which Balder and his beloved brother, whose
hand had shot the fatal arrow, returned to reign
in peace, and dwell in the new halls of Odin. A
single human pair, saved from the universal
destruction, and nourishing themselves with dew,
were the founders of the new human race.
Entering the gallery of paintings, one of the
first pictures we see represents Thor in combat
with the Giants. He is seated in a chariot among
clouds and forked lightning; two Giants have
already fallen backward before his strength, and
he is just in the act of overcoming the third.
Opposite this hangs a painting of Loki chained to
the rocks, while Sigyn, true to her woman's nature,
is trying to catch the drops of venom from the
mouth of the serpent coiled on the rock above his
head, thus preventing their falling on his face.
A third interesting painting was of Freya, or
Love, the Venus of Northern mythology. She is
represented as a golden-haired goddess riding in
a chariot drawn by two playful kittens, one gray,
one yellow, both with white faces, paws and
breasts; seven cherubs with gossamer wings nestle
around her, follow and fly before in the bright
clouds through which her chariot rolls. The
husband of F'reya was Odur, but when the goddess
Iduna, guardian of the apples of immortality, was
carried off by one of the Giants, Freya, with all
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 3 I /
the Other goddesses, lost her youth and beauty,
and Odur, disgusted at this change, abandoned
her. When by Thor's efforts Iduna was restored
to Valhalla, Freya recovered her beauty, but Odur
never returned to her. Freya bitterly wept his
loss, and tJie tears of her constant love were drops
of liquid gold, and she is known as the Goddess of
the Golden Tears.
The gallery contains over one thousand oil-
paintings, some of which are the work of royal
hands, of Charles XV. and his son.
In the regalia room of the museum is a curious
collection of royal costumes, coronation robes, etc.,
from the time of Gustavus Vasa to the late king ;
the different garments kept m glass cases bear the
names of the owners, and dates when worn. Some
of the dresses are wholly of cloth of silver, flounces,
ruffles, etc., of the same material embroidered in
flowers and other patterns of silver thread on
eold. There are also suits of velvet embroidered
all over with the Swedish crown in gold ; there
are hundreds of such suits of attire both for men
and women.
But the most interesting garments of all are
those once worn by Charles XII ; here are an
otter-skin cap and the light brown wig worn by
him as a disguise on his return from Turkey, and
here is also the complete suit he had on when
killed ; the rough, much-worn cow-hide boots with
I 8 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
spurs, his stockings, shirt, the long scarf of thin,
dark blue silk, which he wore with the ends tied
behind ; the long blue tight-buttoning military
coat, fastened from throat to waist with brass
buttons; the leather pouch slung over his shoulders,
and the long blue cloak with the mud upon it of
his last ride ; the three-cornered leather hat turned
back with one brass button, with the hole made by
the fatal bullet, and the light-colored leather
gauntlets stained with his blood as he raised his
hand to his forehead after the bullet struck him.
In still another room is seen his cradle, his baby-
chair, his grandmother's easy-chair, and at last
the rouofh wooden bench on which he died at
only thirty-seven years of age; that wonderful
man whose brilliant career, begun even in boy-
hood, a whole world had looked upon with
amazement and awe ; this General, whom Napo-
leon took as his model; this unique example in
history, with his fabulous exploits and his nine
years of victories whose miraculous escapes and
preservations seemed indeed, to warrant his confi-
dence in his own destiny and his belief that he
bore a charmed life — and yet who at last died,
king still, but king of a plague-stricken, impover-
ished country; one more illustration of the old
Grecian maxim, true from the time of Solon even
to our own day, "Reckon no man as fortunate
until he is dead."
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 319
The museum also contains departments illus-
trating the history of Swedish culture in earlier
ages, different halls being devoted respectively to
the age of stone, the age of iron, etc. Among
modern relics are seen the diploma of Linnaeus
and some chemical apparatus belonging to the
celebrated Swedish chemist, Berzelius. In the
regalia room is also the horse ridden by Gustavus
Adolphus in the battle in which he was killed.
Stockholm, September, 1875.
320 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
XXXII.
UPSALA— ITS UNIVERSITY— CATHEDRAL— MONUMENTS-
HOME OF LINN/EUS.
^^HE one national custom which I particularly
remarked among the Swedes and Fin-
landers was the eating of what was called
" smorgasbord," that is, partaking of a lunch before
sittinof down to table. At the entrance to the
dining-room in every hotel and on board every
steamer, is a side-table furnished with bread,
butter, cheese, sardines and other fish preserved
in oil, and several kinds of cold meat, not forgetting
a good supply of "knackebrud," a hard-baked, thin
and brittle sort of brown bread, made, I should
think, of coarse oatmeal, etc. At this table every
one as he enters the dining-room stops and takes
not merely an appetizing bite, but what I should
call a full meal, which he is sure not to forget to
moisten with a glass or two of raw brandy or other
strong liquor also found upon the table, after which
he immediately seats himself at the table and com-
mences his regular meal. I could understand this
habit were the tables in Sweden served as I have
often found them in other countries, where the
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 32 1
guests are kept waiting half an hour for their soup
and twenty minutesafter every scanty course. But
the Swedes are a nation of good Hvers, and they
allow themselves an abundant and nutritious diet.
The Swedish workman, I am told, indulges in five
or six meals a day. In Norway we had a peculiar
kind of cheese which looked like bar-soap, being
of a dark, dingy brown color, and in blocks five
or six inches square; this was made of goat's milk.
Of course one could hardly think of coming to
Sweden without visiting Upsala; accordingly, one
pleasant afternoon we took the cars for the two
hours' journey thence by rail, in order to begin
with the morning's freshness, the one day we
allowed ourselves there, Upsala occupies a beauti-
ful site on both sides of the little stream called the
Fyris, and is just hilly and elevated enough for
agreeable views. On arriving at our hotel I had
again to remark the character of cleanliness every-
where prevalent, but emphatically so in the glisten,
ing white boards of the bare floor. To an American
who, more than a European, is accustomed to
ample carpets, the first impression of such a room
is certainly one of bareness, chilliness and insufifi-
cient comfort, yet I cannot express the air and
shine of purity and cleanliness which such a floor
reflects on everything around.
The delicately served breakfast of the next
morning almost repaid for the disappointment of
32 2 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
being kept in my room by a cold until the sun had
warmed the clear, fresh morning air; its neatness
and nicety made it an interlude of luxuriant
elegance between the rougher episodes of the
traveler's ordinary meals; there was the ever
prominent brilliant floor rivaling in whiteness the
exquisitely fine linen damask of the table, the
bright polished silver, the delicate china, and the
morning sun shining through the snow-white
muslin drapery of the window upon the crystal
pendants of chandelier and candelabra, making
the room gay with the changing colors of a pris-
matic dance. And yet this was a modest little inn
in a plain, quiet, country-village-like town, where
the traveler would be quite ready to excuse the
want of everything but sufficiency of warmth and
food.
Upsala is /«r excellence a university city,
having at the present time about 1500 students,
making one-eighth of its population ; its customary
studious air of quiet was intensified for us by our
visit occurring at the time of the college vacation;
nothing can be more complete than the profound,
almost sad, silence which reigns around such halls
of scholastic fame, and pervadesstreets, temporarily
deserted by professors and students. The
University of Upsala was founded 400 years ago,
by Stenon Sture the Elder, one of the late Kings
by election, who reigned over the United King-
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 323
dom of Denmark, Sweden and Norway. This
University, like Sweden's other University at
Lund, has four departments, viz : theology, law,
medicine and philosophy. In past years it has
been said that the intellectual character of Upsala
offered a direct contrast to that of Stockholm,
whose culture leans rather to French literature
and science, and where the physical sciences have
been illustrated by the great name of Berzelius,
while Upsala was said to lean toward what is
called German mysticism, and to have rather a
poetic and speculative tendency; in short, that
Upsala was the center of Swedish conservatism,
Stockholm of vSwedish radicalism.
Throughout the Kingdom education is obliga-
tory, usually extending from the seventh to the
fourteenth year ; where parents refuse to comply
with this law, the children are taken from them
and put to school, the parents being forced to pay
their board. To provide for the education of all,
there is a peculiar system of ambulatory schools
for those districts where the population is sparse
and scattered.
One comes to Upsala to see the interesting,
not the beautiful, for the latter fails, unless you
include the rather pleasing scenery, which, how-
ever, is not marked or striking enough to be
independent of the season and the weather for its
charm. Both these conditions were favorable to
324 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
3
US, and consequently Upsala presented us with a
really pretty picture of itself, which I am sure in
less perfect weather, and at a less beautiful season,
the traveler would fail to receive.
In looking over our rather limited programme
for the day, we concluded to begin with the
biggest thing first, and thought that by taking
hold of the Cathedral, we should have our hands
full for about an hour ; but we reckoned without
our host, or in other words, without the clerk of
the Cathedral. As a general thing, in visiting
such places, when obliged to accept the services
of a guide, we are suspiciously followed or
impatiently waited for, and shuffled off as hastily
as possible. The old man who shows this Cathe-
dral knows it all by heart (as they all do), but it is
rare to meet one who so loves what he knows,
and really, once outside the walls again, we found
we had derived quite as much pleasure from his
enthusiasm as from the orratification of our own
sight-hunting curiosity; may a long life be his!
for so long as he can enjoy that Cathedral, so long
will he be a happy man. When we offered him
the customary fee, he actually looked as if he
would rather like to pay us for having come.
The Cathedral occupies the site of an old
heathen temple, and ancient tradition speaks of
its immense size and enormous wealth. The
building was commenced six hundred years ago.
LETTERS OP^ TRAVEL. 325
but was not finished till one hundred and fifty years
later ; it bears the impress, however, of many
renovations.
Although truly inspiring in size and unique in
character, yet not for the sake of itself do we visit
the Cathedral, but for what it contains, for its
broken links of chains which hold us to the past
of historical development and of scientific com-
mencements. Behind the altar, at the end of the
church, which is three hundred and seventy feet
in length, is a chapel called the Gustavian Chapel,
principally sight-worthy for its central monument
in marble^ which consists of a catafalque some
six or eight feet high, the four corners surmounted
by high obelisks. On this catafalque rest
three marble statues of life-size, representmg
Gustavus I., and two of his wives; his ashes
with those of his three wives, moulder in
the vault directly beneath. The walls of this
chapel, between the windows of painted glass,
are covered with a series of seven frescoes
painted between forty and fifty years ago, and
representing important events in the life of
Gustavus. Most of the principal characters are
of life-size; the first represents him asking of a
Municipal Council aid against the Danes; in the
second, he is in the diso;^uise of a Dalecarlian
peasant ; in the third, he is addressing a company
of peasants ; the fourth is a battle scene ; the fifth
326 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
is his triumphal entrance into Stockhohii ; in the
sixth he is being presented with the first Swedish
translation of the Bible ; the seventh represents
him with his sons at his side, seated on the throne
and addressing his parliament.
GustavLis Vasa freed Sweden from the power
of Denmark, who, in the union of the three
countries, including Norway, had sought to
maintain an oppressive supremacy ; it was he who
established in Sweden the Lutheran religion, the
present religion of the State, and which Bernadotte,
Marshall of France, was obliged to embrace in
order to acend the throne of Sweden. Gustavus
I. was proclaimed King in the year 1523, and he
caused his descendants to be declared hereditary
heirs to the crown, which, a. d. 18 18, passed
to the present family, through Bernadotte,
the adopted heir of Charles XIII., the last
sovereign of the Vasa family. Bernadotte
ascended the throne under the name which he
took of Charles John or Charles XIV., of Sweden.
Leaving the Gustavian Chapel, the visitor is
shown the treasures of the Cathedral, among
which is an ancient image of the heathen God
Thor. There are also several golden crowns
belonging to past Kings, for this Cathedral was
long the coronation place of Swedish sovereigns.
Here, too is a orolden chalice with other valuable
things, brought from Prague during the thirty
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 327
years' war. At the side of the altar is a silver
casket or shrine plated with gold, some three or
four feet lonor, which is said to contain the bones
of St. Eric, the patron saint of Stockholm, who
died in the year 1160. It was he who put an
end to the continual wars which had raged
between the worshipers of Odin and the Christians,
from the time of the first introduction of Christian-
ity into Sweden, about the year looo. There are
many tombs and mural monuments, some of which
are 500 years old, but no one will forget to look
for the name o( Linnaeus, who lies buried here ;
a tablet in the form of an obelisk projecting from
a side-wall near the end opposite the altar, bears
the name and medallion portrait of Linnaeus; a
photographer was taking a picture of it during
our visit.
Our next walk was to the house and grounds
of the former home of the great botanist. There
is to-day but little left to connect his memory
with the spot. The house is a sort of club-house
for students; the garden, by no means an extensive
one, is no longer worthy the name ; in fact it is
overgrown with grass, and used as a sort of beer-
garden ; there remain a goodly number of trees
— poplars, lindens, and acacias — many of which
were planted by the hand which has made the
spot memorable and worthy of a visit from every
one whose heart has ever gladdened at the sight
328 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
of a flower ; of course there is not a vestige of
his floral clock. The house is an inferior little
wooden structure at the corner of the garden, and
with two sides directly on a line with the dusty
walk. In another part of the town is a botanical
garden, containing a rich collection of plants from
all parts of the world, and in the hall connected
with it is a bust of Linnaeus.
Upsala, September, 1875.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 329
XXXIII.
ST. PETERSBURG— MAGNIFICENT VIEW OF THE CITY
FROM THE NEVA— BEAUTY OF ARCHITECTURE-
BRILLIANCY OF COLORING.
UR terrible niorht on the tossing: waves of
the Gulf of Finland, with its wild, fierce
storm, was enough of itself to turn our
heads, but when early morning brought us to
anchor alongside the renowned stone quays of
the Neva, and we looked upon the glorious city
before us, we might, indeed, well have doubted
if the sight were not an illusive play of our fancy.
I would fain give you an idea of the impression
made by this view of St. Petersburg, but better
than words would it be could you convert these
lines into leaf of gold, and with it cover the space
occupied by my description; yet, even then, there
would be wanting the beauty of the iris-like play
of varied color relieving the golden splendor in
which the city is roofed. The first surprise were
groups of brightly- burnished, gilded domes, so
brilliant that I immediately thought of St. John's
vision of that city, which shall need the light
neither of the sun nor of the moon, for the glory
21
330 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
of God shall illuminate it ; and this comparison
becomes more apt when you know that these
thickly-set domes mark the site of the multitude
of churches, which makes of St. Petersburg a
colossal religious temple ; nor, at first, does a
nearer acquaintance diminish this impression —
that religion is one of the strongest characteristics
of this capital of the world's great empire ; for the
number and magnificence beyond conception of
its many churches, and the devoutness of the
people, are things to be marveled at but never
described.
In throwing a general glance over the entire
city, there is not spread out over it, as elsewhere,
that homely prospect of black roofs or still uglier
brown tiles ; but, instead, relieving the lavish
gold, the city is decked in that soft yellow, so
frequent a color in Italy, and which, though
golden as sunlight, is yet soft as moonlight,
mingled with plentiful patches of delicate blue
and delicate green.
Driving from boat to hotel and coming upon a
bridge, we saw a most elaborate open shrine, on
whose wall, behind its little altar, was a life-size
picture of some saint, apparently in brilliant
mosaic; the roof and sides of the shrine or minia-
ture temple, were of corresponding beauty.
Turning our eyes from this to the river view,
they were riveted, as it were, on the scene, until
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 33 I
we were borne beyond it. There, for miles along
the broad, open waters of the Neva, are its splen-
did embankments of hewn stone, the red granite
of Finland. Upon these quays are broad carriage
drives, along whose side arise far-stretching lines
of palaces, vying with each other in beauty, and
making the banks of the majestic Neva the
victorious rival in architecture of every river in
Europe, Every particle of sand that helps build
up the shores of the Thames, as it laves the feet
of that grand old giant of cities, London, may
have its story and may contribute its historical
weight; the Seine may borrow, sometimes beauty,
but oftener interest, from beautiful Paris, of whom
its murmuring waters have sung for centuries, but
as a point of beauty neither can offer themselves as
rivals to the Neva — a river more beautiful in itself,
with its breadth and clearness of waters, than the
Thames or the Seine, and flowing as it does
between lines of palaces and magnificent buildings,
which have only been stayed in their ambitious
grandeur by the impossible.
Coming to Russia, the traveler finds his pass-
port and a well filled purse equally necessary.
Before landing he must show the former, viseed
by the Russian minister resident in whatever
country he last comes from ; on arriving at the
hotel, it must be shown to the landlord, who gives
permission to retain it probably for one day, in
332 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
order to afford opportunity to visit certain
building's to which a passport is the only card of
admission ; it must then be given to the local
authorities, from whom it is again received in a
few davs, the landlord sometimes holding it back
when returned, in order to delay your departure
from his hotel. On it is written permission, if
you have requested it, to travel further in Russia,
for any period less than six months ; also, if you
have requested it, permission from the Govern-
ment, to re-cross the Russian borders unmolested,
within some short, stated period.
We found ourselves in a hotel on what is called
the Nevskoi Prospekt. The centre of all that is
lively in St. Petersburg, and the fashionable
afternoon drive at this season of the year, it
corresponds to the grand boulevards of Paris and
to the Regent Street of London, and extends in a
straight line for nearly three English miles. Of
its magnificence and character we may get a
general idea by glancing along its length, where
we count, besides bazaars and elegant shops with-
out number, several palaces, one or two theatres,
the Imperial Public Library, the Greek Church,
the Lutheran Church of St. Peter, the American
Church, the Dutch Church, built at a cost of half
a million of dollars, the Roman Catholic Church
of St. Catherine, which contains the tomb of
Stanislaus Poniatowski, King of Poland, the
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 333
military escort at whose funeral was led in person
by the Emperor Paul of Russia ; the Church of
Kasan, of which the building alone cost two
millions of dollars, and which, in addition to other
wealth of like treasure, counts a miraculous image
of the Virgin, covered with gold and jewels to the
value of eighty thousand dollars ; at the end of
the line of view, the eye falls upon the Cathedral
of St. Isaac, on which twenty millions of dollars
have been spent.
The novel picture of gaiety and life which the
Prospekt presents constantly allures the traveler
to his windows, which he finds are double, while
the walls of the house are, on account of the severe
climate, necessarily so thick that the window-sill
furnishes a wide and spacious seat, which is not
left unprovided with warm and comfortable
cushions. Our windows looked upon a public
square called the Alexandra, the other three sides
of which were bounded respectively by the Impe-
rial Public Library, the Theatre Alexandra, and
the Palace Anitchkoff. The facade of the library,
towards the Square, but not its principal front, is
ornamented with eighteen columns, between which
are ten large statues of Grecian philosophers; the
second side is the Theatre, which presents a
beautiful front of columns and statues; the third
side is the crarden to the Palace. In the centre
of the square is a colossal statue of Catherine the
334 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
Great, whose magnificent proportions make it
rival the surrounding- buildings in height; it con-
sists of a circular pedestal crowned by a statue of
the Empress, at her feet a circle of figures, colossal
also, representing her principal statesmen or
lovers ?
The driving in this city of wonders is remark-
able. In the first place there are the drojkies,
which are mere single seats without back or arms,
so small that it is next to impossible for two per-
sons to seat themselves thereon, and two strangers
thusseated canal ways be recognized by each having
his arms clasped around the other, there being
nothing else to hold to; the driver has a similar
seat a little higher and in front. His passengers
seated, the driver starts ; he is none of your lazy
fellows, and having learned that St. Petersburg
is a city of magnificent distances, his horse starts,
and keeps on, at a good run, and could one but hold
on to the drojky with his feet as tightly as he
holds to his companion with his arms, one would
feel tolerably secure of not falling from his seat.
He finds the Nevskoi Prospekt crowded with
vehicles, the greater number of them drojkies, all
running as fast as his own ; now he puts out his
hand to turn away a running horse's head within
a foot of his own face, and directly his other
shoulder wipes the foam from the mouth of another
passing horse, and this is done so often that his
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 335
outside o^arment soon looks like a winter land-
scape ; for observation he has no time, his whole
attention being occupied in wondering at the skill
with which imminent collisions are dodged, and
when at last he becomes used to it, he thinks it
the most fascinating drivingf in the world.
Not only the driving, but the driver's dress
and horses' gear, are peculiar. Fastened to the
shafts of all vehicles drawn by a single horse, is
a hoop bent from one shaft to the other, and
rising to the height of three or four feet above
the horse's neck; the check rein is fastened to the
top of this hoop. For drays this hoop is larger
and heavier, often three inches thick, five inches
wide, and painted in bright colors, as a wreath of
red roses on a ground of grass-green. In all teams
where three or more horses are used they are all
harnessed abreast. The private teams are of
extreme elegance. While in France there is a
majority of white horses, in St. Petersburg the
greater number of fine horses are black, and
the private carriages are very elegant. The
drojky drivers are in uniform, wearing a blue
double-breasted, wadded gown, which reaches to
the feet ; under this is a sheep-skin skirt, and on
the head a hat-shaped covering, with broad,
spreading crown, but nearly as low as a cap.
Twice in the early part of the day, I saw a
passing funeral. In the first, instead of a hearse.
336 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
was a broad platform, covered with a black pall
bordered with silver lace, with a few words
wrought in the same material inside the border ;
it was drawn by four horses whose heads, ears
and whole bodies were covered with housings of
black cloth, which reached the ground. In the
second funeral, the coffin, also on a platform, was
upholstered in cloth of silver, and trimmed with
many rows of silver fringe, and with silver handles;
over this and folded back sufficiendy to reveal
half the coffin, was thrown a pall falling half-way
to the ground ; this pall was of heavy cloth of
gold, embroidered with bright flowers, forming
immense bouquets. 1 1 was a strange sight, and one
in keeping with all in this city, sitting here in
regal splendor. Queen of the North, and knowinof
so artfully to conceal her dreary latitude and
natural barrenness under lines of beauty, forms of
grace, bounty of color, and richness of material to
which the vari-colored marbles of her own Siberia
bring so large a contribution.
St. Petersburg, Russl\, October, 1875.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 337
XXXIV.
ST. PETERSBURG-THE TOMB OP^ THE GRAND DUKE
ALEXANDER NEVSKY— STATUE OF PETER THE GREAT
—MAGNIFICENT CHURCHES— SURPASSING SPLEN-
DOR OF THE CATHEDRAL OF ST. ISAAC.
^AZED and dazzled as my own vision is
by the reflected rays from roofs of
polished gold, by the sheen of silver, the
clear light through masses of crystal, and the
glitter of precious jewels, I surely may be
pardoned for still wondering if St. John himself
did not get a little confused in his vision of the
coming city, and mix in something of the new
city of Peter, that was to be, with the New
Jerusalem and its streets of gold, walls of precious
stones, and gates of jewels.
Limiting my description of the richness of the
Churches of St. Petersburg to one letter, do not
suppose that I therein exhaust the subject; on the
contrary, I but give a hint for the guidance of
the imagination in the filling out of the whole
picture.
^^8 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
00
Let US first take a glance into the monastery of
St. Alexander Nevsky. The whole property is
enclosed by a stone wall, within which are fine
and well-kept grounds, spacious lawns, and long
avenues of trees carefully trimmed, so that those
of each avenue are always uniform in size. No
less than six churches are within the enclosure,
where are also separate buildings for the residence
of the monks, for the ecclesiastical academy, for
the seminary, the preparatory school, etc. In
one of these six churches are the tombs of the
sister, sister-in-law, and one son of Peter the
Great, as well as other royal sepulchres ; to
another of the six churches there is yearly a
solemn procession from the Church of Kasan,
several miles distant, and during several reigns
it was the custom for the Empress of Russia to
accompany, on foot, the procession, the whole
distance.
But the principal church within the monastery
grounds is called the Cathedral of the Trinity,
and is remarkable for containino^ the tomb of the
Grand Duke Alexander Nevsky, who is said to
have been the hero of a remarkable victory gained
over the Danes, Livonians and Swedes in the
year 1241. In 1724, Peter the Great had his
bones transferred to the church he had built to
receive them. They were brought here part of
the way by land, then transferred to a boat built
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 339
for the purpose, and in this the great Emperor
stationed himself at the helm, while the eight
highest officers of his empire took the oars and
rowed. At the landing the funeral cortege was
received by the royal family and all the great of
the land, and the holy relics were deposited in
their mausoleum amid reverberating peals of
cannon. The space allotted to this sacred deposit
is at the right of the altar. Of the church itself,
I will only say that all is in rich harmony with the
sainted warrior's sepulchral paraphernalia. The
tomb itself is a catafalque with canopy above, and
is all of silver, of which metal three thousand
two hundred and fifty pounds were used for the
casket and canopy alone.
The silver canopy above the catafalque is
supported by silver angels, equal in size to full-
grown men; they hold silver trumpets garlanded
with flowers of silver. Partly covering the casket
is a veil of satin and rich lace, on which is
embroidered in diamonds and pearls the face and
name of the hero. This was the gift of the
Empress Catherine the Great. On fete days, a
gold lamp with a pendent tassel of diamonds and
pearls is suspended from the canopy. Against
the wall is a tent of silver, while around are
ranged suits of arms, and other warlike accouter-
ments, and all these, too, as well as the inter-
spersed candelabra, are of silver, of which three
340 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
thousand six hundred pounds have been used
in their manufacture. Yet, this bounteous display •
of precious metal does not exceed in amount
that employed in the embellishment of many
churches here, as for instance that of Our Lady
of Kasan, where the whole ikonostas is of silver
while in its center sparkles the name of the
Almighty, written wholly in precious jewels ;
before the ikonostas stand four immense candelabra
of silver, and the steps leading to it are of
polished jasper.
All Greek churches are built in the form
of a cross, the eastern arm of which is
separated from the rest of the edifice by a very
hi^rh screen which is called the ikonostas. The
space behind it is set apart for the priests and
into it no woman, not even the wife of the
Emperor, may enter. The ikonostas conceals a
throne-like altar, under which, and extending
towards the screen, is a sacred carpet on which,
although for some special ceremonies it is some-
times carried to the centre of the church, no foot
but that of a priest may ever step. During
service the folding doors of the ikonostas are at
intervals open, and at intervals closed. In the
Church of Our Lady of Kasan, the balustrades
of the ikonostas, the doors, the arches rising
twenty feet above the altar, the door-frames, the
picture-frames — all is of the finest silver, whose
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 34 I
surface reflects, in dazzling brilliancy, the light of
a thousand tapers burning before it.
But perhaps no building in the world, or at least
none west of India, can, for its size, compare in cost
with the Cathedral of St. Isaac. In the first place,
to make its foundation, a forest of pines had to
be sunk in the swampy soil, at the expense of a
million of dollars. Its location is advantageous, as
it occupies a wide, open space, surrounded by
palaces and parks.
From one portico you look on the public square,
where stands the famous equestrian statue of Peter
the Great, representing him curbing his rearing
steed on the precipitous edge of the immense
irregular rock, which forms its pedestal. Before
him rolls the majestic Neva, while his right hand
points to the proud city he created, and whose
most remarkable buildings rise within sight.
The Cathedral overlooks the Palace of the
Admiralty, whose front is five hundred feet in
length, and composed of columns, statues, and
allegoric groups emblematic of Russia's greatness.
From its center rises a very hiQ-h and orraceful
spire, and its open grounds extend from the Neva
on one side, to the grand avenue of the Nevskoi
Prospekt, on the other.
The Cathedral of St. Isaac is, as is customary,
in the form of a Greek cross, but differs from
many of the buildings here in the comparative
342 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
O
somberness of its exterior, which is wholly of rich,
dark marble, stone and bronze, with the excep-
tion of its five cupolas covered with copper and
plated with gold. From the center of the roof
rises a rotunda supported by thirty immense
pillars of polished granite and surmounted by a
cupola crowned by a beautiful shining cross,
discernible at a great distance, while four smaller
cupolas rise from the four angles of the roof
The Cathedral has four grand portals of entrance,
one on each side. The broad landing under
the portico and the steps ascending to it are of
polished dark red granite; the wide, deep
porticoes are supported by columns sixty feet
high and seven feet in diameter, each column
consisting of but one single piece of stone
with base and capital of bronze; two of the
porticoes have each sixteen of these columns,
each of the other two have eight; wide and
high folding-doors open directly from the
porticoes into the main body of the building;
they are of wrought metal, divided into panels,
and represent, I should think, the whole Bible
history. Outside, half-way up the rotunda that
supports the main cupola, is a circle of twenty-
four winged angels, and, including these, there
are upwards of one hundred colossal bronze
figures; but magnificent as all this is from gilded
dome to marble base, the eye is chiefly conscious
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 343
of grandeur of proportion and beauty of outline
only. Entering the interior in vain the eye
searches for a square inch of surface, mean or
unornamental; rich paintings, rare marble,
precious stones, gold and silver — naught else to be
seen; the walls, where not covered with frescoes,
are of beautiful marble of different varieties.
The immense dome is frescoed above with a
colossal representation of the Virgin. At her side
is St. John, while the rest of the space is filled with
the patron saints of the imperial family. Below is
a circle of twelve windows, between which are
frescoes representing the twelve apostles; still
lower, painted on canvas, are the evangelists;
and still again, at the base of the cupola, four
grand pictures representing the passion of Christ,
the kiss of Judas, Ecce Homo, the scourging and
the carrying of the cross.
All these you see as you look up into the dome,
but there are many others frescoed on the walls,
on canvas, and here and there resting on gilded
pedestals, and all of wonderful beauty. This you
will believe when told that no picture or statue has
been allowed admittance here without having first
received the approval of the Holy Synod of Russia,
and afterwards being subjected to the severest
criticism of the Academy of Arts, in order that
no picture which is not a masterpiece might find
place in Russia's grandest temple of worship.
344 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
There are some two hundred statues inside the
Cathedral, and these have cost over half a million
of dollars. Some are in mosaic, others are of
metal plated with gold while the hands and faces
are painted on a flat surface, the effect of this
being very fine.
The ikonostas occupies the whole of one side
of the church; it comprises three altars, the center
and principal one being dedicated to St. Isaac,
that at the right to St. Catherine, that at the
left to St. Alexander Nevsky. A gilded railing
at the head of the steps leading to it separates the
broad platform in front of the ikonostas from the
main floor. This platform is two hundred and
twenty-six feet long and is made of large slabs of
polished porphyry. In front of the ikonostas is a
remarkable range of columns extending the whole
width of the church. They are ten in number,
eight being of malachite and the two central
ones of lapis lazuli. The malachite columns
are thirty feet high and two and a half feet
in diameter. The columns of lapis lazuli
measure fourteen feet in height by two feet
in diameter. The pedestals of these ten columns
are in white marble with o-ilded moldincfs and
panels of the same material as the columns.
The altars and the chapels which contain them
are principally of white Carrara marble, but this is
embedded in, and overlaid with malachite, lapis
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 345
lazuli, mosaic paintings, and gilded bronze; and
the astonished eye looks almost with incredulity
upon what itself sees, and instead of doubting the
cost of twenty millions of dollars, wonders that
twenty millions could have paid for it. All the
articles used in the service of the altar are in solid
gold and silver ; for one set of these over eighty
pounds of solid gold was used, and the handiwork
alone cost nearly fifteen thousand dollars in
addition. There is also a spoon made from an
agate, the handle being of diamonds. There are
candelabra, vessels for holy water, etc., twenty-
six articles in all, whose weight in pure silver is
two thousand two hundred and seventy-nine
pounds, and on which the labor alone has
cost one hundred thousand dollars. There are
also two other sets in which three thousand three
hundred and seventy-seven pounds of pure
silveV have been used, and on which the labor has
cost over fifty thousand dollars. On the main
floor of the building is a tomb of Christ, to con-
struct which five hundred pounds of pure silver
was used, and fifteen thousand dollars paid for the
labor.
I attended divine service in this Cathedral on
a Sunday. The place was crowded to its utmost
capacity and all were standing, for not even the
Emperor may seat himself in the Holy Temple.
Here, God's Temple, like God's religion, is free
22
346 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
to all; and in this land of aristocrats, the mean,
the low and the dirty stand side by side and
crowd closely against the rich and the proud as
they pray and worship together. At several
different places, before certain images, was a cir-
cular table for the burning of little cheap tapers,
which could hardly have cost a copek, the smallest
Russian coin — a little less in value than the
American cent. Frequently some child or grown
person would elbow his way through the crowd
and offer his candle, which was immediately
lighted if there was room; if not, it was laid by to
be burned in its turn. The whole congregation
was most devout and attentive. I have often
heard ot muscular Christianitv, but I never saw it
so thoroughly put into practice and worship as
by a rough, dark-whiskered, and long-haired
Russian at my side; he had a little more space in
front of him than most of the others and through
the whole of the long service he was continually
bending his head down to his knees, and vigor-
ously crossing himself, repeating now and then a
few words. As I looked at him, and observed
also the general air of devotion all around me, I
began to think that perhaps we travelers were
the only wicked people in Russia. There is one
wonderful painted window in this Cathedral, and
at a certaim part of the service, the gilt-bronze
doors of the ikonostas, twenty-three feet in
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 347
height, which have heretofore remained closed,
are rolled back, and, as they open, the window
suddenly reveals its colossal picture of Christ
ascending among clouds, one hand stretched out
as in benediction, the other pointing upward; the
effect is overwhelming.
St. Petersburg, Russl\, Octobe7^, 1875.
-1
48 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
XXXV.
ST. PETERSBURG— INTERIOR OF WINTER PALACE.
)N'E of the sights of St. Petersburg, in the
absence of the Imperial family, is the
Winter Palace, and this seen, the traveler
begins to think that the Churches of St. Peters-
burg have not exhausted the wealth of the
Empire, but are a fitting introduction to the
magnificence of its palaces. The Winter Palace,
with its front seven hundred feet long, directly
faces the grand Neva at the point of its greatest
width. The Neva, before emptying into the Gulf
of Finland, divides into several branches, and is
known as the Great Neva and the Little Neva.
We were admitted to the Palace through a side
entrance, a long and lofty arch, elaborate with
curious sculpture and designs, which led us under a
semi-circular wall, into an immense open space
lying between the semi-circular building and the
Palace. In the centre of this open space rises the
remarkable monument erected to Alexander I.
This is of red granite, and its shaft is a monolith
eighty-four feet in height. It is surmounted by an
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 349
angel and a cross, and the whole, from base to
pinnacle, measures over one hundred and fifty feet
in height. It is guarded night and day by grena-
diers, who have distinguished themselves by some
military exploit.
Within the Palace one becomes so confused by
its extent, by the immense number of its rooms,
and by the brilliant magnificence, that he carries
away but an uncertain picture of marble halls,
ceilings covered with wondrous paintings, pillars
of precious marbles with gilded base and capital,
walls hung with the richest damasks, all making a
royal and fitting abode for the ruler of the greatest
empire in the world.
The Imperial Saloon, also called the Saloon of
Nicolas, is spacious enough to contain fifteen
hundred persons; it is lighted by twelve immense
chandeliers of crystal, which, on lete occasions,
blaze with five thousand candles ; at both ends
are bufiets reaching to the ceiling, on which are
ranged gold and silver plates, some as much as
two feet in diameter, and all displaying marvelous
skill of workmanship. In this hall each sovereign,
after his coronation, receives deputations from his
various provinces, who come to express their
fealty, as an emblem whereof each presents him
with a piece of black bread and a pinch of salt,
oftered upon these rich, gold, and silver salvers,
brought by them and left here. /Adjoining is
350 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
another smaller hall ornamented with statues ; in
this, the Emperor at Easter receives certain
peasants, from near and far, each of whom has
been selected by the peasants of certain districts,
and sent by them to congratulate their ruler.
Here the mighty potentate receives them,
embracing and kissing each one.
In the Saloon of Peter, the most remarkable thing
is a large painting behind the throne ; it repre-
sents the dream of Peter the niofht before the
battle of Pultowa. Peter is sleeping, and the
Angel of Victory is seen descending toward him
bearing in her hand a wreath and crown. The
room has its walls covered with crimson velvet,
embroidered in gold thread, the pattern being the
Imperial escutcheon surrounded by a wreath of
laurel. Below the velvet a white marble dado
extends around the room. At the side of the
room opposite to the throne are two tables of
solid silver. Around the room stand six high
silver candelabra ; six more are fastened to the
walls, and chandeliers of silver are suspended from
the ceiling.
The Saloon of Esculchias has its ceiling
supported by one hundred and four gilded pillars;
a gilded gallery surrounds it, and it is lighted by
twelve gilded chandeliers. The hall of St. George
has similar decorations of marble and gilding ; the
throne is gilded, and ten immense chandeliers of
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 35 1
crystal light this banqueting-hall, where the
Grand Dukes always celebrate their coming of
age.
The Golden Saloon has its doors and all its
wood-work gilded, and its walls and ceilings are
heavily ornamented with gold. Over the mantel
is inserted a long panel of mosaic work, represent-
ing an Italian landscape. This panel has a value
of thirty thousand dollars. The room is furnished
with crimson draperies, and contains mosaic
tables, vases several feet high of malachite, of
jasper, etc.; a beautiful fire-screen consisting of
one large plate of crimson glass standing in a gilt
bronze frame; marble statues and candelabra of
lapis-lazuli, and much other elegant furniture.
This, we were told, was the saloon of the late
Empress, mother of the present Emperor.
The malachite hall has its walls ornamented
with sixteen malachite pillars reaching from floor
to ceiling; two malachite marble mantel-pieces
and malachite vases. The doors and trimmings
of the room are gilded. One room has remark-
able doors, each of which, we are told, cost four
thousand rubles, equal to three thousand dollars.
They are of rosewood, inlaid with the wood of
the palm tree, and the panels are ornamented
with paintings on porcelain ; another room com-
municates with the adjoining apartments by
several sets of folding-doors covered with tortoise-
352 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
shell inlaid with a fine pattern in gold, and each
pair of these doors cost twelve thousand dollars.
In still another room each panel of the doors
bears a large oval medallion of imitation cameo,
made at the manufactory of Sevres, near Paris.
In one room is a marble mantel with panels of
mosaic, bordered with lapis-lazuli ; another has a
mantel of white marble and lapis-lazuli. A very
valuable mosaic table, its top representing eight
separate Italian landscapes, was, we were told,
the giftof Garibaldi to one of the Grand Duchesses.
A massive silver mantel-set, of clock and vases
curiously and heavily wrought, together with the
central chandelier in the room, we were also told,
was presented by the City of London to the
Emperor of Russia, at a cost of three hundred
thousand dollars.
Hall after hall and gallery after gallery is filled
with paintings of historical interest ; the Gallery
of the F'ield Marshals, with battle scenes and
full-length, life-size portraits of great Russian
Generals ; elsewhere, other pictures perpetuating
the memory of remarkable and momentous
incidents of war. The Romanoff Gallery contains
the portraits of all the sovereigns of the present
ruling dynasty, and also those of their wives ;
many of the sovereigns are represented by
several pictures taken at different periods of their
lives. So we wander on throut^h an almost
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 353
endless range of imperial halls and all the items
we can carry away in our memory seem but a few
scattered crumbs from an overflowing banquet,
better fitted for the pleasure and amusement of a
month than of a day.
But we have yet to take a peep into the private
apartments of the Imperial family, which if not
equal to the state apartments, are nevertheless
extremely rich, and many of them have their
walls covered with heavy damasked silk in various
colors. In the general sitting-room of the
Empress and her ladies, of whom I judge from
the number of chairs and tables she has enough,
Her Majesty's seat is on a raised platform sepa-
rated by a railing from the rest of the room ; the
walls are of crimson satin, and there are a number
of beautiful pictures; but the chief thing I noticed
here were tall folding screens of exquisite work-
manship, illustrating, in colored glass, miniature
scenes of royal story. The walls of the sleeping-
rooms of the now Duchess of Edinburgh were,
like the drapery and furniture, of pearl-colored
brocaded silk ; from this room we passed into her
boudoir, with walls and furniture of white silk
wrought with bouquets of bright flowers ; both
rooms had arched ceilings frescoed in delicate
but cheerful colors. Beyond was the bath-room
belonging to this suite of apartments ; it was
solely lighted by mosaic windows of rich-colored
354 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
glass. Between the windows was a marble
mantel of exceeding beauty and workmanship,
and before the grate a fire-screen of crimson
glass in gilt frame and very heavy. On the
opposite side of the room was the marble bath-tub
partly sunk in the floor. Behind the bath the
wall was one wide, hia"h mirror; the ceilinofoverhead
was an arched dome, not, however, with smooth
carved surface, but hanging in scalloped stalactites
of stucco. These stalactites were of various
delicate colors, their edges shining with a slight
line of orildinof. The side walls of the room were
covered to correspond with the ceiling overhead,
and the thick, soft carpet harmonized with roof
and ceiling. There was but little furniture, save
a table, sofa, and a couple of chairs in a small
alcove. These were white and covered with
pale blue silk. I could not help wondering if the
fair young girl for whom all this had been
arranged might not sometimes, in her far-away
English home, be homesick for familiar sur-
roundings.
The last room visited was in the upper story,
and contained the Imperial jewels, a wonderful,
rare, and extensive collection; they were guarded
by two armed soldiers, and two keepers. They
are arranged in show cases on tables extending
half-way around the room. In the first compart-
ment were mostly diamonds, among which was a
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 355
diamond necklace, whose value we were told is so
great that I actually dislike to repeat it, and will
only say that it was several millions of dollars.
It is a circlet of twenty-two large diamonds, with
fifteen pendants, each a rare jewel. Here are
also jewels arranged in the form of trimmings,
ready to be applied to dresses, shoes, head-dresses,
etc. In the second case was a large collection of
black diamonds to be worn as court mourning,
emeralds, pearls, diamonds, and an assortment of
fans to match whatever jewels might be selected
for wear. In the third compartment the
collection was more mixed, consisting of almost
every jewel known, sapphires, rubies, garnets,
opals, etc., but few diamonds. In the centre of
the room stand two glass cases, one containing
the Emperor's crown, scepter, and the globe he
holds in his hand, the other containing the crown
of the Empress. The scepter is surmounted by
the largest diamond in Europe, and one of the
most beautiful. It weighs over eight carats more
than the English Kohinoor weighed before it was
cut, but its color is less pure. It is known in
England as the Effingham diamond, and here as
the Orloff diamond, from its having been presented
to the Empress Catharine the Great by the
famous Count Orloff; its owner had previously
offered it for sale to the Empress who would not
consent to his terms. The history of the diamond
356 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
has been remarkable, but is not accurately known.
It was, most probably, the eye of an idol of
Seringham in East India (Seringham having
become Effingham), and was stolen from the
temple- The keeper told us it was first smuggled
into Russia by its owner, who made an incision
in his leg sufficiently deep to slip it within and
thus conceal it. The globe held in the hand
of the Emperor at his coronation is of gold
surmounted by a large sapphire and a diamond.
The crown is mitre-shaped, around the head is
a bandeau of twenty-eight large diamonds ; the
partings consist of arcs composed of rows of
diamonds and pearls, between which are leaves of
silver filigree, the whole surmounted by a cross of
five large diamonds resting upon one of the
most remarkable rubies in the world. This ruby
is polished but of irregular shape, never having
being cut. The crown of the Empress is of
diamonds and pearls. It is said that no other
ornament in the world presents such a collection
of diamonds of color so pure and so free from
flaw, while the pearls are equally choice and rare.
St. Petersburg, Russia, October, 1875.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 357
XXXVI.
ST. PETERSBURG— DEVOUTNESS OF THE PEOPLE— TEA
DRINKING AND SMOKING-IMPERIAL MUSEUM OF THE
GREAT CATHERINE— FORTRESS OF ST. PETER AND
ST. PAUL— ROYAL TOMBS.
)NE of the strongest impressions made
upon the visitor to St. Petersburg arises
from the rehgious habits of the people,
and of these habits one single day in its streets
will give a better idea than much reading.
Besides the shrines at frequent intervals by the
wayside, each church is also a shrine, and even
the busiest driver or teamster seldom forgets to
uncover his head and cross himself at every church
he passes, and before which he is sure to see
brother-believers kneelino" on the g^round in
worship ; while the larger number of foot passen-
gers pay the same reverent recognition to the
other shrines, frequently stopping and either
prostrating themselves on the ground before the
shrine or slowly three times bowing the body
nearly to the ground, three times crossing them-
selves and repeating a prayer, then proceeding on
358 LETTERS OF TRAVEL,
their way, only again at every succeeding shrine
to at least uncover their heads and make the
si2fn of the cross.
The Summer Garden, like some other of the
public parks, at its principal entrance has its
shrine, too, with a life-size, complete figure of its
saint in brilliant mosaic on golden background ;
and at every railway station the waiting-room has
its rich shrine with lighted candles and swmging
lamp, only a slight railing separating from the
surrounding turmoil a little space for the prayerful
devotee who does not, like some foreign travelers,
forget in his journeying to take his religion along
with him.
One result of railroad communication and much
travel is the gradual blotting out of national
costumes, and here the middle and upper classes
are dressed in the prevailing European styles of
the day ; yet in the streets I see carriages rolling
along whose occupants wear bright colored tur-
bans and long wadded robes of flowered silk,
while the gay-colored dress of peasant-looking
people lights up the streets with picturesque
effect. I look from my window on a group all
equally gaily dressed, one of whom wears a
white skirt trimmed with red bands, a scarlet
apron, bright blue sack, and orange-colored ker-
chief on her head. At my side in St. Isaac's
Church during the Sunday service, stood a woman
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 359
with dress and small round cape of light blue
merino trimmed with silver lace, a hat of the
same material thickly dotted with silver spangles,
and apron of white muslin ; and in the street I
saw another dress of exactly the same material
and fashion, but the color was bright scarlet and
the trimming of gold lace and gold spangles.
The market of St. Petersburg is one of the
most luxurious in the world, a fact one wonders
at on reflecting that all edibles must be brought
from immense distances, arriving here from almost
every point of the compass, by sledge, by rail,
by water, and by caravan, bringing fish from the
far northern seas, Mediterranean fruits and camel-
loads of Asia's teas. Perhaps it is because it
were useless to bring so far anything but the
best, that nothing but the best is seen here. It
would seem, too, from the prices demanded, that
the Petersburger is not a stranger to that spirit of
lavish extravaofance which characterized California
in her earliest days; and when one sees apples
marked at one ruble (about seventy-five cents)
apiece, it is because the people are determined to
have at any cost whatever pleases the palate.
Evidently when the Great Peter founded this
City he knew it was for a people who would
manage to help themselves wherever he put them.
One of the peculiarities of a Russian city is its
tea-houses, corresponding to the beer-gardens of
360 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
Germany, and the drinking-saloon of our own
country, although the Russian drinks deep enough
of strong spirits besides. Other refreshments
such as cakes, bread, cheese, etc., may also be
obtained in these places, but tea is usually the
only refreshment demanded ; a company seat
themselves around a table on which is placed a
large and generously filled tea-pot, and talk over
their affairs and gossip, drinking cup after cup.
It is said that a Russian can drink more than a
dozen cups of tea at one sitting. The Russian
takes neither milk nor cream in his tea, but prefers
to float therein delicate slices of lemon. Smoking,
too, is a favorite habit with the Russian, as I
had learned even before finding myself seated at
a restaurant-table opposite a man who, with a
cigar in one hand and a fork in the other,
refreshed himself with alternate morsels of food
and puffs at his cigar. I also met a young,
accomplished and elegant Moscow lady, who
besides smoking in her own room, always joined
her husband in his after-dinner ciorarette smoked
at the table.
It will not be doubted that the traveler here
finds his expenses by no means small. Although
there are countries where he may indulge in the
caprice of avoiding his countrymen if he love
himself and his own pursuits better than his
fellow-men and theirs, he will have to pay dearly
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 36 1
for it in a country like this where he needs to be
able to use his own tongue, as well as that of
preceding travelers. Every landlord here has a
way of making every guest feel comfortable up
to the last moment of presenting his bill. Most
hotels advertise dinners at one ruble and two
rubles; there is but little difference between the
two and both are excellent ; of course, the
"innocent abroad" supposes he is having his
other meals at a corresponding figure, until his
bill is presented, and he finds himself charged at
the rate of from two to three rubles for every
simple breakfast of a chop, tea and bread, and in
addition other items accordingly. In fact there is
but one cheap thing in St. Petersburg, and that
is drojky-driving, and for a few copecks you can
drive in one of these single-seated, topless
vehicles as fast and as far as any Christian ought
to go.
Adjoining the Winter Palace of the Emperor,
is a building known by every body here as the
Hermitage, and which is, in fact, the National
Imperial Museum. The first building on this site
was a little house erected by Catherine the Great,
and here she used to withdraw from the confusion
of the palace, and spend quiet hours with chosen
friends. Hence, it was called the Hermitage,
and the name has been transferred to the present
building. Like everything else in this splendid
23
362 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
capital, this, too, is a wonder of art and magnifi-
cence. It has a front of five hundred and fifteen
feet, by a depth of three hundred and seventy-
five feet, inclosing two courts ; it is constructed
wholly of granite and marble of different kinds,
and is covered by an iron roof Its only wood-
work is an occasional inlaid fioor. The outer
walls are beautified by multitudinous columns and
countless statues. Within, thcstairs are of white
Carrara marble, the ceilings supported by elegant
marble columns of various colors, the walls covered
with rich paper, silk, or of marble, and most of
the floors of inlaid marbles. These rich and
various stones are brought from near, and from far
distant, provinces, and it is only here that one can
form a conception of their beauty and variety ;
they make of the building, aside from its contents,
a national exposition of Russia's subterranean
treasure. Where everything is on so grand a
scale, I need hardly say that great sums have
been expended to secure rare paintings, and the
whole collection is one of the most extensive in
Europe.
One wanders through hall after hall, and gallery
after gallery of paintings, till it seems as if there
were no end. Every hall of pictures contains at
least two large vases, averaging from six to eight
feet in height, of stones, whose colors I could
hardly give, much less their names. Besides
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 363
these there were usually two or three smaller
vases at one side, on elegant tables, each of the
latter being some rare specimen of mosaic or other
work. Many of the room.s were furnished with
sofas for visitors, and these, with royal lavishness,
were left with all their beauty unprotected from
dust and sunlight. The wood-work of these
was usually entirely covered with gilding ; the
cushioned seats, with rich silk. There was an
endless succession of halls thus furnished: the
floors of tessellated marble, ceihngs of rich frescoes,
walls covered with silk and hung with choice
pictures, and a far reaching line of vases of rare
materials and graceful forms. In one room, con-
taining principally pictures by Murillo, the ceiling
overhead is elaborate in color and stucco; the walls
crimson, furniture crimson and gold, and in the
centre of the room are two tables of lapis-lazuli,
in size six or eight feet long, by some four feet
wide, and two high vases of the same material,
and corresponding dimensions. The adjoining
hall contains principally the brighter-hued pictures
of Raphael. It is almost a copy of the Murillo
room, except that the vases and tables of the same
size, are of malachite. The catalogue of paintings
contains over fifteen hundred numbers, and there
is besides a gallery of sculpture and other collec-
tions.
But one of the most interesting departments of
364 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
the Hermitage is the Gallery of Peter the Great.
This is devoted almost wholly to objects connected
with his memory. His image, dressed in the
costume of his day, is seated in the centre of the
room, while around him are the tools with which
he himself worked ; the iron cane he usually
carried, and which I found very heavy to lift ;
statuettes, and casts of his face ; the stuffed bodies
of the horse he rode, and of his favorite dogs ;
his books, mathematical instruments, and countless
other things.
No one will willingly leave St, Petersburg
without seeing its Fortress, but that, not for its
fortification, but because it encloses the Chapel
where are buried all the rulers of Russia, with
but one exception, from Peter the Great to our
own day. Driving within the gate as far as was
allowed, our driver motioned for us to alight and
proceed on foot. At a little distance an ascend-
ing walk led up under an arched gateway,
across which was extended a line of clothes to dry,
leading to a fortified embankment, promising a
fine view. My companion walked on to enjoy
this, while I remained behind. Soon an alarm
was raised, soldiers ran, an officer appeared, the
eyes of all were directed to the audacious stranger,
and it was evident that either he or the Fortress
was in danger of being taken. I approached the
officer and endeavored to explain ; the stranger
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 365
was a perfectly harmless individual ; we admired
St. Petersburg very much, but we had really no
desire to take its Citadel ; had no room for it in
our carpet bags, and should'nt know what to do
with it if we did, being Americans. "Americanski!
Americanski!" interrupted the hitherto glum-look-
ing officer, bowing most politely, and cordially
smiling, and the stern officer was lost in the
hospitable host. Soldiers were dispersed in every
direction, for some one who could speak English,
but the most any of the summoned could do in
English was to shake his head ; finally, one was
selected to accompany us, and was evidently told
to take us everywhere and explain everything;
the latter he did in pure Russian, which, of course,
was most edifvino- to us, and the former he did so
thoroughly, that before we got through we
concluded that the Fortress of St. Petersburg, or
of St. Peter and St. Paul, as it is called, was as
extensive as all Russia. Besides all kinds of
cannon, modern and ancient, and general arms of
war, were many things connected with the personal
history of Russian rulers, particularly with Peter
the Great and Catherine, there being several
splendid life-size portraits of the latter at different
periods of her life.
At last we came to the Chapel which may be
called the Russian Royal Mausoleum, Its exterior
is not imposing; it measures two hundred and ten
366 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
feet in length, by ninety-eight in width, its
walls being fifty-eight feet in height, and these
dimensions are dwarfed by comparison with the
surrounding fortifications; but its most remarkable
feature, exteriorly, is a slender, graceful spire which
had attracted our attention during our whole stay
in St. Petersburg, and which rises twenty-six feet
hiofher than the cross of the celebrated St. Paul's
of London. The tombs within are all alike; plain
blocks of marble some six feet long, three feet
wide and high, each enclosed by a gilded railing,
and bearing only a sunken golden inscription of a
cross, and the name by which the moldering dust
below once ruled this, the modern world's largest
empire. Over one tomb hang the keys of
fortresses taken by the valiant w^arrior lying below
in abject submission to a greater than he; over
another droops batde flags, and still again the
diamond betrothal-ring of another sparkles in the
light of the never-extinguished memorial lamp
swinging over a neighboring tomb. The present
Emperor has inherited none of the aristocratic
tendencies of his ancestors, and subjects here will
tell you of the shabby coat and ink-stained cuffs
in which he may be often seen driving out for
recreation from his assiduous labors. A few years
ago he lost his oldest son, who was said to be like
his father, the people's friend and lover, while the
present heir apparent is said to be an aristocrat
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 367
without sympathy in the present Emperor's efforts
for the elevation and freedom of the common
people. Nothing can be more touching, more
accurately descriptive of the spot, than the follow-
ing from Hepworth Dixon's " Russia."
"Meantime the reforming Emperor holds his
course, a lonely man much crossed by care, much
tried by family afflictions, much enduring in his
public life. One dark December day, two English-
men hail a boat on the Neva brink and push out
rapidly through the bars of ice towards that grim
Fortress of St. Peter and St. Paul, in which lie
buried under marble slab and golden cross, the
Emperors and Empresses since Peter the Great.
As they pushed onward they observed the water-
men drop their oars and doff their caps, and,
looking around, they see the Imperial barge
impelled by twenty rowers. The Emperor sits
in that barge alone, an officer stands at his side,
the helmsman directs the rowers how to pull,
saluting as he glides past their boat. The Em-
peror jumps to land, and muffling his loose gray
coat about his neck, steps hastily toward the
church. No one goes with him. Trying the
front door of that sombre church, he finds it locked,
and strides quickly to a second door, beckoning
to a man in plain clothes to admit him. The
door is quickly opened, and the lord of seventy
millions walks into the church that is to be his final
368 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
home. The EngHsh visitors are near. 'Wait
for an instant,' says the man in plain clothes, 'the
Emperor is within, but step into the porch, he
will not keep you long.' The porch is separated
from the church by glass doors only, and the
visitors look upon the scene within. Long aisles
and columns stretch and rise before them. Flags
and trophies won in a hundred battles adorn the
walls, and here and there a silver lamp burns
fitfully in front of a pictured saint. Between the
columns stand in white sepulchral rows the
Imperial tombs, a weird and ghastly scene, gleam-
ing in that red and sombre light. Alone, his cap
drawn tightly on his brow, and muffled in his
loose gray coat, the Emperor passes from slab to
slab, now pausing an instant, as if conning an
inscription on a stone, now crossing the nave,
absorbed and bent. The dead are all around him
— Peter, Catherine, Paul, fierce warriors, tender
women, innocent babes; and overhead, the dust
and glory of a hundred wars. What brings him
hither in this wintry dusk? The weight of life?
The love of death? He stops, unbonnets, kneels
— at the foot of his mother's tomb ! Once more
he pauses, kneels — kneels a long time as if in
prayer; then, rising, kisses the golden cross; that
slab is the tomb of his eldest son. A moment
later he is gone."
Gone — but how few the years ere once more he
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 369
is to come, lonelier still, but this time, alas! the
door stands open to receive him — this time he
visits but one tomb, his own, and it is the prayers
of others that rise, the tears of others that fall,
over his shattered body torn by assassin-ball of
Nihilist.
St. Petersburg, Russia, October, 1875.
370 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
XXXVII.
A ROYAL CELEBRATION IN BERLIN— THE EMPEROR OF
GERMANY AND HIS COURT— THE CHAPEL OF THE
OLD SCHLOSS.
^^0-DA V, the first Sunday following the
anniversary of the Coronation of the King
of Prussia and present Emperor ' of
Germany has occurred a general celebration by all
the different orders of nobility and of merit, from
the highest to the lowest in the Empire. The
celebration, commencing by a religious service in
the Old Schloss or Castle, was to be participated
in by all who have received the Decoration of any
Order, and by no one else.
The service took place in the Chapel of the
Schloss; this Chapel is situated on the upper
floor under the dome, and although apparently
neither so large nor so high as it is, it must be
capacious enough to hold at least two thousand
persons. Its ceiling is a high dome frescoed in
gold and in medallion paintings, there being of
the latter three rows at some distance, one above
the other, and in each row twenty-four medallions,
of course diminishing in size, those of the upper
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 371
circle belne from three to four feet in diameter,
and representing two heads of winged cherubs
looking downwards from out the clouds. The
circle below the dome is divided at equal distances
by statues, twenty-four in number; below these
again are twenty-four arched windows. Still
below the latter is the gallery with gilded balus-
trade, greatly elevated above the main floor. A
broad band above the circular gallery and another
below it recite to the eye the words of the Beati-
tudes of the Holy Scriptures. In this gallery
were placed the few spectators admitted, and also
the musicians, and from it they looked down upon
a sea of gold, of silver, and of brilliant colors,
made by the rich uniforms, regalia, scarfs and
jewels of this thronged assembly, including both
nobles and commoners by birth, whom Imperial
honors distinguish from the ranks of the people.
The main body of the Chapel is also circular;
the curve of its wall being broken by four equi-
distant semi-circular alcoves and the whole covered
with frescoes of biblical or sacred pictures, or with
mosaic of marble.
The altar is furnished with a gilded baldachin,
or pointed canopy, supported by four columns of
Egyptian marble, bright orange and white in color.
Behind the altar is a cross several feet in height,
set with real jewels selected by one of the late
Kino;s from his own collection. From the centre
372 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
of the dome is suspended an immense crystal
chandelier, and following- the circle of the wall, at
equal distances, are twelve candelabra supported
by twelve slender marble columns, the latter
having been excavated from the ruins of Pompeii.
Before the altar is a broad unoccupied space on
each side of which are seats forming lines at right-
angles with the altar. These seats at the left of
the altar, as we stand facing it, are arm-chairs, in
number about eighty, and are to be occupied by
the Court; those opposite are ordinary chairs.
The first chair at the left and nearest the altar, is
the Emperor's seat; directly opposite this and
at the right of the altar is Bismarck's chair, which
to-day, however, Bismarck being absent, was
occupied by the venerable Field -Marshal Von
Wrangel, an old man nearly ninety years of age,
wearing a complete uniform of white with trim-
mings of gold. Next to him was seated Von
Moltke, whose slender and wrinkled face might
betoken a plain and simple character, but I
surmise his heart yet hides in strong life a full
portion of military pride.
For more than an hour we stood, and waited,
and gazed, as wave after wave of glitter and of
color agitated the shining surface upon which we
looked down. So elaborate were most of the
costumes with embroidery in gold, with bands of
gold and of silver lace, added to shining epaulets,
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 373
scarfs and sashes of various colors, that their
ground colors could scarcely be distinguished.
An officer on guard near the door, wore a uniform
of white cloth, with cuirass of scarlet, while a solid
star made of narrow silver braid completely
covered the breast. There were embassadors
representing all the splendor of their respective
Courts and Monarchs; there were honored heroes
of battle-fields, whose names are known world-
wide; and there were still other heroes whose
banner is Science, whose cause is Progress, whose
weapons are the sharp poignard of intellectual
insight, the two-edged sword of studied thought,
and who, the vanguard of the intellect of our
century, have received, for their brave service.
Imperial honors. There was the Rector of
Berlin's Universitv, with lonor circular cloak of
purple velvet, heavy with embroidery in thread
of gold; there were University Professors in plain
suit of black, the breast decked with one or more
honors; Professors of Medicine, too, those other
heroes who fight, not to destroy, but to save,
whose standard, following ever in the wake of
the Warrior's Banner of Death, bears the motto,
''Life and Victory." In our republican country
the position of the medical man is a one-sided
one; he gives orders, but does not receive them;
here we have the old rule of give and take — order
for order — and one or two breasts were so covered
-1
74 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
v/ith decorations as to suggest that his Imperial
Majesty had conferred one for every bitter pill
administered, while the scarf so gracefully worn
over the shoulder seemed emblematic of the
surgeon's bandage, and the sword at the side
suggested the surgeon's knife in this military
nation.
As- we were observing all this display and
appreciating its significance, our attention was
attracted to one of the officers, who, carrying
burning incense, walked slowly thrice around the
triangle of chairs reserved for the Court, and then
passed with it down the stairway that Royalty
was to ascend. An interval, and then the Master
of Ceremonies, Count , knocked on the
floor with his silver-headed mace, and suddenly
the whole assembly stood in hushed, respectful
silence to receive Wilhelm I., Emperor of
Germany, and his Court. The Emperor enters
with slow and stately step, the arm of the Empress
in his; a few steps within the door they stop, then
^reet with a single bow and courtesy, slight but
respectful, the standing assembly.
The Emperor, although in his seventy-ninth
year, looks not more than sixty, and his step has
the firmness, if not the elasticity of that of a
younger man. Surely one must believe that
simple habits, freedom from dissipation, out-of-
door exercise, and not too much study, have been
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 375
the rules of his hfe. Yet, Time, who brought him
one crown, took from him a fairer une, so that in
vain he tries to cover his baldness with a few
straggling hairs. To-day he wears a dark uniform
trimmed with gold; across the shoulders the
yellow sash of the Order of the Black Eagle, the
highest Order in the Empire; conspicuous on his
breast hangs a small iron cross, the insignia of an
Order founded in 1813, by Friedrich-Wilhelm III.,
and revived by the present Emperor in 1870, as
an honorary reward for distinguished bravery in
the battles of the Franco-Prussian war ; he has
modestly conferred this on himself. The Emperor
has one of those faces which we call good-natured,
and which means, I surmise, good-natured so long
as he has his own way, for he is a determined-
looking old fellow withal, and has a sturdy will of
his own, which I am sure he as little relishes to
have opposed as would you or I ours, were we
Emperors.
The Empress Augusta, is a sickly, miserable-
looking woman, whom all the resources of art fail
to make look either healthy or happy. On her
head is a double diadem of diamonds magnificently
brilliant as becomes her station; her head-dress in
addition consists of white ostrich-plumes which
fasten a long veil of soft lace falling behind. Over
her shoulders she wears a deep ermine cape which
she does not remove, but at the throat escape the
'^'j(:> LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
pendants of a necklace matching in magnificence
the diamonds of her diadem; her dress is of
white satin, trimmed with a delicate, soft, golden
lace; she wears a train some four yards in length,
of a deep, scarlet velvet, embroidered with golden
crowns of some half-dozen inches in dimension,
and with black eagles; the sides and bottom of
the train are finished with a band of ermine.
The train of the Empress, as also that of every-
one of the six ladies of the Imperial family, is
carried by two pages, one at each corner, who
raise it about a foot from the ground, thus
revealing the ordinary train of the skirt beneath.
The dozen pages are from fourteen to sixteen
years of age and are all dressed alike, in white
stockings and white knee-breeches with silver
garters, scarlet coats trimmed with silver lace, and
muslin cravats that fall over the breast in long,
broad ends of soft lace; after their ladies are
seated they form themselves in a group at one
corner, looking like a cluster of scarlet and white
geranium blossoms.
Behind the Emperor and Empress follow the
Crown Prince and the Crown Princess. The
former is a tall, straight, soldierly-seeming man,
who looks as if he had plentyof good, hard, practical
sense; his complexion, more fair than dark, is
somewhat browned as that of a soldier should be;
his dress is similar to that of the Emperor.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. ■}^']']
One who could see beauty in the Crown
Princess must be bhndly loyal; yet I have heard
Englishwomen enthusiastic upon the charm in
her face and in her eyes; to me her coarse com-
plexion and cold, red, bare arms were anything
but charming; yet her solitary example of
declining the cosmetic use of paint and enamel
so disgustingly conspicuous that day among the
ladies of the Court, commanded respect and
bespoke character. The Crown Princess wore
dress and train of velvet, apple-green in color and
trimmed with ermine; a small ermine collar
covered the neck; she also wore a diadem of
diamonds and head-dress of white ostrich-plumes
confining a veil of orlisteningf lace.
Next followed the Princess Carl and her pages;
her dress was a white satin skirt with waist and
train of dark crimson velvet, elaborately and
heavily embroidered and bordered in gold; a
sparkling necklace of brilliants sufficed as protec-
tion to her low-dressed shoulders, while her veil
of golden lace was fastened with tinted ostrich-
plumes.
The Prince and Princess Friedrich Carl, who
followed next, were son and daughter-in-law of
the preceding. The Princess's waist and train of
bright blue velvet worn over a skirt of white
satin, was relieved with embroidery of silver and
pearls; her diadem, was of diamonds and pearls,
24
T^yS LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
with necklace like a liquid stream of light and
blaze. These were followed by two young ladies,
their daughters, dressed alike, in blue and white,
each with her pages, and in their dress the national
corn-flower blossomed among the jewels they
wore.
It was very interesting to see how skillfully
the pages arranged the trains when the ladies
seated themselves; that of the Empress was
dexterously laid in folds over her arm-chair, thus
falling around her as she sat. For the other
ladies, the train was drawn to one side as each
sank in her chair, and then brought forward and
spread out upon the floor before her, and as the
wearers sat in line these trains formed a mao^nifii-
cent carpet reaching half across the wide space in
front of the altar.
Directly behind these already mentioned were
seated the eldest son of the Crown Prince, the
Grand Duke of Mecklenburg, four Princes of the
House of Hohenzollern, and, still behind, other
nobles who had arrived from different parts of
Germany to attend these festivities; the remaining
seats were occupied by the ladies of the Court,
among whom was so little beauty that the Goddess
of Discord would never have thrown into their
midst her golden apple with its inscription, " Let
the fairest take me."
After all were seated the church service was
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 379
performed, six clergymen assisting, chant, prayer
and sermon failinofnot.
Let us hope that when, finally, Heaven calls
her roll of nobility, all these of to-day may respond
with jewels as bright, with honors as well earned,
with titles as secure, as those displayed on this
occasion.
At the close of the religious ceremonies the
royal and noble company adjourned to a colossal
banquet awaiting them in the most splendid halls
of the castle.
Berlin, January i, 1876.
I
180 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
XXXVIII.
ALEXANDRIA— EGYPTIAN WOMEN— COSTUMES-
STREET SCENES.
UST four days and nights on one of
the Messaorerie's finest Mediterranean
steamers between Naples and Alexandria.
Long unaccustomed to the sea, the first half of
this time has numbered one hundred and twenty
seconds to a minute, one hundred and twenty
minutes to an hour, and each separately noted
and counted ; the other two days were like those
sunny, Summer days of the long ago, that drew
their slow length so dreamily, so lazily along,
such as we all remember, and such as I had been
told I should find lying around loose everywhere
in staid old Europe, and which for the past two
years I have looked for in vain, finding them at
last only as we glide smoothly over the blue
waters of the Mediterranean far towards the
traveler's Orient, as were those other days they
mirror far away towards life's Orient.
As we have made the most direct voyage
between the two ports our course has been in
mid-sea, with no view of land except an occasional
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 38 I
dim outline in the horizon, and our eyes are fresh
and keen for the first view of the city of the great
Macedonian, of the land of Cleopatra.
Behind a glistening snow-white breakwater,
stretching out its long protecting arm of stone,
lies the spacious harbor of Alexandria alive with
boats and shipping ; the light-houses and large
government-buildings loom forth in equal white-
ness, while beyond spreads out the large, level,
white-looking sunny and bright city of Alex-
andria. An obliging fellow-traveler, resident in
Alexandria, points out to me Pompey's Pillar. I
thank him, only to find out afterward that my
eyes had made a mistake, and I had exhausted
my enthusiasm over a brand-new tower-like
chimney to a modern factory.
The steamer comes to anchor at a quarter of a
mile from the shore, and for our dozen passengers
— a small company on account of the lateness
of the season — -suddenly and in an instant the
deck swarms with a hundred dragomen, who have
rushed on board from their boats ; their large,
loose trousers, some of white cotton, some of
colored woolen stuff matching the jacket, look
like the full skirt of a woman, with the extremities
of its width orathered with some fullness around
each ankle, while the intermediate width of cloth
is sufficient to allow of a very long stride ; the
broad, bright sash wound at least twice around
382 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
the waist, the wide ends hanging gracefully at the
side, the close-fitting, red Turkish cap, and the white
cloth wound turban-like around the outside of it,
transform the whole in an instant into an Eastern
picture, as if it were the sudden shifting on the
staofe of a theatre from an Eno;lish scene on board
ship to the midst of an Oriental city. These
men push each other and quarrel, as a dozen at a
time surround and assail a single passenger, and
the very tolerable English and French with which
they accost the voyagers, mingle with the strange
sounds of their native language as they dispute
and threaten each other, each asserting priority
of claim to the stranger ; and we find ourselves
speechless, helpless and almost in despair, as
stunned and amused as the transformation of scene
has been sudden and novel.
At last we descend the ship's ladder into a boat
from which we have first to expel some three or
four Arabs who declare we have hired them all
to take our luggage on shore ; landing, our honest
dragoman demands now double the fare for which
he agreed to take us — just as he will demand it
from you, my friend, about to follow in our foot-
steps, and which we peaceably paid, as you, my
friend, may as well do, too. The officer examining
our trunk gets a peep at a brown terra-cotta
figure of the withered face of Seneca and accuses
us of trying to smuggle a mummy through the
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 383
Custom-house, as if we had not already in our
lives carried too many coals to Newcastle to begin
now to carry mummies to Egypt; unrolling the
statuette he laughs and is satisfied, and we pass,
freed from Egyptian duties, into the full liberty
of Egyptian life.
It is very well to talk of the picturesqueness
of life in Southern Europe and in the East; it
is so, especially in the East, but /low picturesque
no one can imagine till he sees it, nor fully
appreciate till he returns again to the compara-
tively tame monotony of dress, and buildings,
and customs, of our civilization. But though
picturesque, it becomes almost equally disgusting,
and, first or last, you are sure to long to see
laboring people well clad, clean markets and
thrifty-looking dwellings and shops, and to thank
God, who made the Orient for these, that He did
not forget to make the Occident for us.
Scorning the thought of devoting our first hours
in this novel land to so commonplace an object as
seeking a hotel, from the Custom-house we start
immediately for a stroll through the streets.
The poet and his song have perhaps associated
a poetic illusion with the veiled women of the
East ; nothing could be more prosaic and unillu-
sive than they really are. Their outside garment is
generally of a dingy dark-blue or black, loose and
shapeless; the head is covered by a black or dark-
384 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
colored piece of cloth, falling loosely over the
neck behind, and partially covering the forehead.
The prominent feature of their dress is a round,
spiral-like ornament of gold, silver or wood ; it is
about two inches long and as large round as one's
finger, reaches from the middle of the forehead
to the middle of the nose, and serves to attach
the veil to the covering of the head. The veil
is of thick black stuff, silk or cotton, and extends
just. under the eyes way across the face, where it
mingles with other wrappings near the ears, while
in length it falls nearly to the feet and is pointed
in shape ; there are also here and there, veils of
thick white muslin. The veil, I am told, is not
worn in their homes, but only when the women
are in danger of being looked upon by Christians,
or perhaps when the Christians are in danger of
seeing them ; I am not sure at this moment on
which side the danger is. Later in the day a
good-natured man, whose sidewalk restaurant we
were glad to patronize, that we might continue
drinking with our thirsty eyes while feeding our
hungry mouths, said to us: "There's a good
manv of the women who wear the veil to .show
their husbands how good they are, but they
associate with Christians all the same." He
also said that the woman who is able to sport a
ring in her nose is the envy of all her female
friends ; and that a Pasha came down from Cairo
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 385
last week, bringing with liim sixty-three carriages
full of wives, about two hundred and fifty in all,
to his Summer palaces near the sea.
The bright reddish stain of the henna, with
which the finger-nails are universally colored, we
first observe as one Arab lights his cigar by that
of another ; then our eyes are attracted to the
tall, upright figures and regular features of men
wearing a long, loose, white cotton dress, falling
open to the waist, fully revealing the whole
breadth of chest, the wide sleeves open and
flowing, turbaned head and bright-red shoes.
There is every variety of combination of color in
this gay panorama of strange costumes, which
grows in picturesqueness even in the very
observing of it ; wide blue trousers, with shirt of
broad stripes of red and white, and stately-looking
men in long, loose gowns of sky-blue, wide
flowing sleeves, white turbans and perhaps white
beards on their dark brown skins. There is
every colored skin here but white ; the faces are
for the most part thin, with fine and regular
features and an expression of keen intelligence,
all of which combine to convey an impression of
refinement. There are. too, not a few black
faces. I thought I had seen blacks in America,
but I was mistaken ; ebony is almost brown in
comparison with these, but there is a total
absence of the animal features that we connect
386 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
with the negro race ; their eyes are wonderfully
beautiful ; the lashes and lids manage to conceal
the ugly contrasting white, and their brilliant
light, like the sparkle of some strange jewel, is
nevertheless gentle as it twinkles like a bright
star and beams with intelligence. With fine and
delicate features the effect is wonderful, dressed
as they are in a simple, loose gown and turban,
both as perfectly white as themselves are perfectly
black ; in fact I find them very handsome, and I
remember that the heathen orod Memnon had his
surpassing beauty enhanced by its rare blackness,
and the story of Othello and Desdemona does
not seem so utterly absurd after all.
In the streets there are no great signs of indus-
try or activity, and it seems as strange as every-
thing else to be in danger of stepping upon the
bodies of sleeping men, who have lain down to
sleep wherever they happened to be — on the
sidewalk, in the public square, sometimes in the
shade, sometimes in the burning sunshine, lying
scattered around the sandy streets in slumber at
midday. For vehicles we see English carriages and
horses, but evidently rather for wealthy residents
and the use of travelers; some camels with their
burdens, but everywhere little bits of donkeys
with big men in loose trousers astride of them, the
saddle built up to a considerable height, while as
every Jack has his Gill, so every donkey has his
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 387
donkey-boy who runs behind, whipping or rather
hitting him continually with a good-sized cudgel,
the blows falling on the flesh ever raw from
continued beating. I have found out now the
meaning of the horrible unearthly sound of the
donkeys' bray; all over the world they are echoing
the complaint of the Eastern donkeys' woe,
cudgeled from one century to another, cudgeled
by Arab, cudgeled by Bedouin, cudgeled by
Nubian, cudgeled by Egyptian, cudgeled by Turk,
cudgeled by Copt, Mussulman and heathen — are
these wounds ever to cry to heaven unheard ?
So much have we seen and heard in something
less than a half-day in Alexandria. All Egypt is
before us, and we are athirst with the traveler's
feverish longing for the beyond; we accordingly
drive to the railroad station, having concluded to
finish our first day in Egypt with a six-hours'
journey to Cairo. As we take our luggage a sly
Arab smuggles himself along with it. Arrived at
a station, he claims a fee. He has done nothing
and we have nothing for him to do, but his
persistence is so great and our efforts to rid our-
selves of him so ineflectual that our only choice
seems to be between giving him a franc or
keeping him till death doth us part, and so we
naturally accede at last to his demand.
Alexandria, Egypt, March, 1876.
388 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
XXXIX.
FROM ALEXANDRIA TO CAIRO— HAPPY BEGGARS-
FEMALE WATER-CARRIERS— VILLAGES OF MUD HUTS
—A MOSLEM BURYING GROUND.
7" is not during the first twenty-four hours
in Egypt that one remembers that even
change of scene may become monotonous;
here all the enthusiasm of the fresh and unspoiled
traveler returns, and eye and ear awake to keenest
observation and revel and delight in a new world
and a new people. There are railroad stations
more elegant than those at Alexandria, where the
naked earth well trodden down is the only carpet,
except in the ladies' waiting-room, where there is
a plank floor ; divans, too, extend around this
room, covered with bright colored cloth and
upholstered with cushions, but with seats as high
or hi^'her than an ordinarv table; I tried to climb
up on one of them to rest but gave it up as too
much labor for the result.
The railway carriages are rather rough, but
comfortable, and the wheels are so low that we
are on a level with the crowds of natives who flock
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 389
around the windows at every stopping-place.
These natives are in every degree of scant
clothing, filth, and wretchedness, yet, with the
exception of some sick beggars, they look gener-
ally so happy, as to make us doubt if there be a
careworn countenance in Egypt. Many offer, at
the windows of the cars, refreshments, which are
heads of lettuce and salad, necessarily somewhat
wilted, or stunted green vines just pulled from the
earth, and bearing a sort of bean much eaten here,
or lemons and oranges, generally carried upon
the head in low, large, round baskets, for it is as
easy and natural for these people thus to balance
a load upon their upright graceful figures, as for
us to carry a bundle in the hand. When the
basket is smaller an extra supply is stowed away
next to the skin, inside the single garment which
they wear, and, as neither the wearer nor the
garment is very clean, and, moreover, as it
is hot, sweating weather, our appetite for this
beautiful reddish-golden fruit, as extraordinary in
size as in color, is somewhat diminished. The
Egyptian seems always to carry his food about
his person, and from this same sort of pocket or
receptacle formed by a dexterous twist of the
garment, one sees him take out his bread when
hungry, or thrust it therein when hunger is satis-
fied. Besides this there is plenty of water offered,
by girls who nicely balance upon the head the
3 go LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
ever graceful water-jar of the country, the same
which you find on your toilet-table, on your
dinner-table, and carried on the head of water-
carriers from the fountains in the streets; it is of
common, porous pottery, which is said to keep
the water very cool, and is always of the same
bulb-like shape, round, with a long narrow neck.
On the railway you must of course drink, if you
drink at all, directly from the water-jar ; fastidi-
ousness not being a grace of Egyptian origin.
At some of the minor halting-places few others
than flocks of children are seen ; the very soil
here teems with them ; wherever you stop, though
it be but for an instant, they swarm around you as
if they had sprung up in a moment from amidst the
sand at your feet, showing the happiest, merriest,
children's faces I have ever seen. Their spirits
have evidently never been plagued out of them
by the training of the school-room, nor checked
by the rules of propriety, nor cramped within-
doors in rainy weather. As you look at their
elastic movements and see their careless merri-
ment you feel that there is a very full meaning to
the expression, " the freedom of a child of the
desert," and it would be a treat indeed to look at
the ofladness of their faces were it less often
obscured by dirt, or more seldom rendered repul-
sive by sore eyes, upon which sores you often see
scores of flies on one sing^le face. Of course at
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 39 1
every station we hear little but repeated and
continued cries for "backsheesh," which the new-
comer might be almost sorry not to hear ; for so
frequently does the word occur in the tales of
travelers that to me Egypt without its backsheesh
would be almost as disappointing as Egypt with-
out its Pyramids. But the children apparently
cry for it as much in sport as m earnest, and when
we laugh and repeat the word after them they
take it as a frolic, and finally run after the train
in great glee to pick up the lumps of sugar we
throw to them at parting.
We pass many small villages of mud huts ;
these have the appearance of lumpy hillocks, or
as if within an irregular mound of clay cubical
rooms, a few feet square, had been shaped ; a
single group of palm trees usually spreads its
broad branches high above the united roofs, and
women and children are seen sitting on the ground
outside the doors.
As we travel on. the car reserved for foreigners,
in which we are seated, becomes monotonous, and
I long for a peep into the one behind filled with
natives; so I cautiously draw near to the open
door, and steal a glance over a surface of mingled
white turbans, scarlet fezes, and other gay and
gaudy colors, and my eye falls upon one native
seated just before me. whose head is enwrapped
in the ample folds of a brimstone-colored scarf
392 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
with border of red and blue and who wears a
loose flowing garment of the same hues. But my
sacrilegious gaze is abruptly rebuked by the
unappreciative conductor who makes himself into
an " envious wall " unfeeling as that which
separated Pyramus from Thisbe, and so shuts
from my eves this paradisaical vision, and from
those soul-gifted Mohammedans, the sight of my
unhallowed face. I wait for him to withdraw,
but his patience is as persistent as mine, and I at
last retire to the seat I left, just in time to see
a long train of camels slowly plodding along the
highway, and, from then, the sight of these
awkward creatures awkwardly grazing in field
and by road-side becomes more and more
common.
The country between Alexandria and Cairo is
a wide plain. The extensive and cultivated
fields of the Valley of the Nile stretch out on
either side ; sheep, donkeys, and a few oxen are
seen grazing thereon ; here and there the white
gleam of a tent ; tall palm-trees, scattered or in
groups, wave their long leaves; the loose trousers,
blue or white, of the laborers in the fields spread
themselves to their full width, sail-like, in the
breeze, and the more sombre hue of the women's
garments bespeaks their presence, too. Half-way
between Alexandria and Cairo we come for the
first time within sight of the Nile, which the rail-
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 393
road crosses on a long bridge ; the river, now
low, muddy, and ruffled by a strong breeze, looks
rough and ugly.
Just beyond this bridge we stop at a station.
In an open shed-like building we see, for the first
time, a Mussulman at his devotions. The Mussul-
man knows that his God demands clean hands of
him who prays for a clean heart, and he never
omits his ablutions before prayer. For this man
a servant holds a water-jar, from which he pours
water into the hands of his master who washes
with it hands, face, arms, and then, putting off
his shoes, his feet. With feet still uncovered, he
walks to a carpet of matting lying on the ground
quite near, turns his face in the direction of
Mecca and falls upon the ground in prayer ;
again he stands erect, again kneels, each time
touching his forehead to the ground, and thus,
several times alternately prostrate and erect, and
at the end standing and turning his head to the
right and to the left, which motion I have been
told signifies looking for Satan whom he now
challenges to approach, he thus concludes his
prayer, puts on his shoes and walks away.
Here too, I remark for the first time the
Eastern salutation, whose grace and elegance
make it worthy of perpetuation through all time.
Two acquaintances meeting, touch hands without
clasping or shaking them ; then bowing, the one
25
394 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
lays his right hand first on his heart, then on his
lips, and thence on his forehead, then turns and
walks away with a grace equaled only by that of
his salutation. I have been told that the sio-nifi-
cance of these motions is, first, the offering of the
devotion of a sincere heart; next the words of the
mouth in his service; and thirdly, the sacrifice of
his head if heart or ton_^ue prove treacherous.
As we travel on by-and-by the railroad skirts a
Moslem burying-ground, and such you should see
would you have an impression of a barrenness
beside which the desert looks fertile, an image of
absolute death, with no suggestion of further life
of spirit or of matter, hopeless as eternity is long,
and petrifying your spirit as you gaze. There is
not one blade of grass, nor a flower, tree or shrub;
no memorial wreath, no ornament, however
tawdry, symbol of remembrance and affection of
survivinof friend; no beautiful desio^n in marble;
no gracefully outlined stone to mask the ugly
skeleton of death ; no reverent or loving inscrip-
tion; — all that you see is a wide field baked under
the burning sun, with no color, of earth or stone,
but the dead gray of ashes.
The tombs, which are a low pile of stone and
mortar, from either end of which rises a low,
rough-hewn, upright stone, look as if the great
army and "innumerable procession" of the dead
had indeed here pitched their everlasting tents in
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 395
an eternal desert, where Death has built himself a
fitting throne upon this ashy, livid, colorless plain.
In the near distance we discern the minaret of a
neighboring mosque, and, beyond, a lonely palm-
tree lifts its broad leaves high toward heaven, as
if its solitary color were seeking sympathy with
the blue above.
It is late in the evening when we at last arrive
in Cairo. There are plenty of carriages in
waiting, from which we select an open barouche,
with driver in long white night-gown, and as we
roll along the road we look upwards with admiring
gaze to the wonderfully bright stars sparkling
through the transparent veil of Egypt's brilliant
sky of night, and we are hardly conscious of
fatigue as the day draws to a close — our first day
in the land of the sacred ancient Past, in the land
where Pharaoh ruled, where Moses was born —
the land to which the babe Christ fled for refuore.
&
Cairo, Egypt, Maixh, 1876.
396 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
XL.
CAIRO— HOTELS— PYRAMIDS— VISIT TO A BEDOUIN'S
HOME.
first morning in Cairo awoke us
refreshed for sight-seeing by our few
days of sea-travel, and excited, rather
than wearied, by the strange impressions of
the previous day — our first in Egypt. We had
yesterday opened our eyes so widely at so
many novel sights that to-day we had but an
ordinary stare for the few un-European features
of our hotel ; for the waiter at table — a Greek
in Christian costume to which was added the
universally-worn scarlet fez with black tassel ;
for the chamber-maid man — an Egyptian in scant
costume of white cotton, shirt and loose trousers,
the latter reaching a little below his knees,
showing the dark-brown, stockingless legs, and
feet thrust into gay-colored leather slippers ; for
the Arab — the carrier of water and blacker of
boots, in costume almost too slight for description.
There are three principal hotels for European
travelers in Cairo ; the Hotel Abbat, which we
have selected, stands directly upon one of the
wide thoroughfares to be found in the outer part
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 397
of the city^ and here we can spend the hotter
hours of the day at the windows, looking down
upon a moving panorama of Egyptian Hfe. This
avenue is the principal drive leading to the
gardens of the Palace of Shubrah, to which
gardens the fashionable world of Cairo daily
drives in the afternoon ; not a day that we do not
see one or more of the wives of the Khedive,
each with her separate ^•^/zV^ and equipage, driving
in that direction ; they are always dressed, as if
for an evening ball, in brig^htest colored silk
robes over which fall, veil-like, in ample folds,
transparent silken tissues embroidered in gold or
silver ; their carriages are preceded and followed
by outriders on horse and outrunners on foot.
The New Hotel, situated on the same avenue
as the Hotel Abbat, is remarkable for its palatial
beauty and its grand dimensions, but this one
stands back from the road in the midst of a
beautiful garden with majestic tropical trees ; it is
approached from the street through a pavilion
wholly open at the sides, its broad, shading roof
supported by a large number of slender, graceful
pillars.
The best known hotel and the favorite of
travelers is the Hotel of the Nile, the only
objection to be offered to it is, perhaps, that its
location is rather too remote from the principal
haunts of the stranger, yet the approach to it,
398 LETTERS OF TRAVPX.
markedly characteristic of the city, winds through
the narrow and crowded labyrinth of the streets
of Cairo. Once arrived at this hotel, you find
yourself shut off from all the busy, crowded life
through which you have passed in your approach
to it ; the central court around which it is built, is
a luxuriant tropical garden into which you may
step from your own room, and under the shade of
whose living roof of graceful^ lofty palms you
may breakfast or dine ; or there you may recline
in delightful, luxuriant languor, so captivated and
so filled with the sentiment of the place and the
scene, that European life seems like the remem-
brance of a far-back dream, our distant homes
like unreal phantoms, and the world itself so wide,
that the imagination can scarcely compass it.
I cannot imagine it being a question with any-
one what he shall do with his first day in Cairo.
What to do ? with the Pyramids in sight, and, by a
drive of less than two hours, within touch of the
hand ! Our party of four is just enough for an
open barouche ; accompanied by the native guide
or dragoman, whose services are indispensable to
every stranger here, and whom, at a certain sum
per day, we engage to serve our whole party
during the time we remain here, we start, after an
early breakfast, to visit these Giants of the Desert,
almost since the beginning of historic time the
ever-recurring theme of the traveler's pen.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 399
Although it is very late in the season, so late
that travel hitherward has stopped and tourists
already here have been driven away and
frightened away by the heat, yet, to-day, a cool
breeze so tempers the sun's rays as not only to
render a winter dress comfortable, but also the
addition of a woolen shawl advisable and almost
necessary. Even from the broad outlying
avenues of Cairo itself, we have a view of the
Pyramids, breaking with their unmistakable out-
lines the desert-hued horizon. Small as they
look at this distance yet are they unmistakably
themselves, and were one brought here from the
antipodes and in a state of unconsciousness, he
would immediately exclaim on opening his eyes,
" I behold the Pyramids." The road is excellent,
having been made the best possible on the
occasion of the visit of Eugenie when Empress
of the French ; it is shaded for long distances by
double lines of acacias, which grow here very
large ; a thickly-growing reed, nearly eight or ten
feet in height, skirts the road in many places,
and, as we cross the bridge over the Nile, we
look up and down along its rush-lined banks and
question for the spot where
" Pharaoh's fair daughter..
Went down to the water
To bathe, at the close of the day,"
and found the celebrated rushian, Moses ; but
whatever we see, we still keep our eyes on the
400 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
wonderful monuments beyond, growing in size
and in interest with every step that we advance.
Besides our dragoman — whose name is Tolbah
and who always replies to the ladies with "yes,
sir," and " no, sir," — there is the driver and the
sais or outrunner ; our calculations were, however,
founded in ignorance when we expected to be
left to the assistance of these three only. Within
some two miles from the Pyramids a figure
suddenly arises from the field at the road-side and,
running by the side of our carriage, accosts us.
His skin is dark brown, I might say like that of
the negro were he not so different from that race
as we know it; he is a very handsome man, tall,
straight, and elegant, a rich man, too, our guide
tells us ; his features are fine and regular with no
line of grossness ; his dark eye, keen and quick
as a flying arrow, yet with a pleasant and friendly
expression revealing the brightness of a smile
twinkling in its corners and hid in its depths, can
never be described nor be compared with any
other eye, yet, whoever has once seen it will
never foreet it: this is a Bedouin, a true child of
the desert. His dress is a wrap of white cotton
muslin, hanging around his body in many loose
folds. Soon he is joined by others, all of whom
offer their services as guides to the Pyramids, to
none of whom, however, do we pay any attention.
We are interested in the first one, and, conversing
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 4OI
with him, he tells us about his wife, his family,
and his child, and points out to us his home
yonder in the field. The horses are going at a
rapid trot, yet he keeps ever at our side without
abating his running pace for an instant, and
talking all the time with no perceptible want of
breath ; nay, more — he even obliges us with a
song, and if we do not discover much melody in
it, I yet doubt if a skillful artist in music would do
better during a rapid and unbroken run of two
miles or more. The name of this Bedouin is
Abdallah.
Within half a mile of the Pyramids the road
becomes steep and sandy and we are now obliged
to alight from the carriage and walk. One by
one, Arab after Arab has joined us, and we find
it impossible to rid ourselves of their services.
Each of my arms is grasped and I am half-lifted
from the ground as they try to assist me through
the yielding sand, while they but render my walk
more tiresome by their rapid gait. If I shake off
one set I am immediately grasped or grabbed by
another two, and, finally, by the time we arrive at
the first Pyramid we are in the midst of a small
army of upwards of a hundred of half-naked
Arabs, each mingling, in imperfect French and
English, the offer of his personal service, or of
some little specimen of his wares, as a bit of
pottery in the form of a mummy, etc., with the
402 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
Strange accents of their native tongue as they
dispute among themselves. We hardly know
whether they are in concord or in conflict, so
great is the confusion, but we remember that
" forty centuries are looking down upon us " and
we try to be equal to the occasion.
At last we stand at the very base of Cheops,
the Great Pyramid of Gizah, and look up its
slanting side to the hei8:ht of more than five
hundred feet. We do not all agree in its effect
upon us, but the general impression leans towards
disappointment in the appreciationof itsmagnitude.
I hardly share in this feeling, for my reading of
the experience of others has thoroughly prepared
me to see the pyramid of my imagination dwarf
when seen in reality ; still, as we gaze, still does
the wonder grow, and the giant proportions
unfold minute by minute, more and more, filling
out with reality the continually expanding power
of perception.
We give our first and longest observation to
the largest of the four Pyramids around us ; the
stone which once covered it, making of its
surfaces smooth inclined planes, has long since
disappeared, and, as we now see them, each is, as
it were, a pyramid of stairs with steps from three
to six feet in height, of rough masonry, rising
from base to central apex.
A quarter of a mile distant, the Sphinx lifts its
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 403
head from the desert plain, and to it we next plod
our way through the sand, always in the midst of
an army of Bedouins, who leave us no peace for
our thoughts, no freedom for our steps. Eye
and thought are rapidly educating themselves to
the objects of our view, and the Sphinx is either
more impressive in itself, or is better appreciated
at first sight, than even Cheops. It takes us so
long to walk from the side-view of its face to a
front view, and thence around to the other side-
view, that we thereby somewhat measure its size;
and, as we gaze up to its colossal features, we
wonder, so gigantic are its proportions, whether
the skill of a human race has indeed carved its
own image from this mountain of rock, or whether
the all-powerful hand of Nature, in love with
man's face divine, may not have attempted an
imperishable image thereof, confiding its care to
the giant beast below; in its somewhat mutilated
features, something superhuman, something super-
natural, something mysterious like life, seems to
lurk, and the familiar words run through the
mind, " The Sphinx sleeps, when will she
awake ?"
Near by is the Temple of the Sphinx, with
its walls of alabaster. There are also the other
Pyramids with gradually diminishing proportions,
and the Tombs of the Kings, mammoth sepulchre-
chambers, down into whose wide extent we look
404 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
from a surroundino" circle of hills of sand from
which they have been excavated ; these tombs
form a solid square of roofless chambers, separated
or joined by thick walls of stone.
We retrace our steps to the first Pyramid, but
there is no opportunity for the quiet contemplation
one so longs for. "Will you let us take you up
the Pyramid?" is the cry of fifty Arabs pressing
around us. "No, we will not!" "Will you ^o
into the Pyramids?" "No, no!" "Will you
pay this man to go up the Pyramid for you^ — he
will do it, and down again, in eight minutes?"
" This one, he will do it in nine — this one in ten?"
We would like to hire the whole body of them
and pay them for the length of time taken instead
of its shortness; but we tell them to select one
whom they please, who is to bring to each of us a
stone from the summit, and we make up a little
purse for him. Soon his black body with scant
white clothing is seen mounting from step to
step, with a rapidity almost rivaling the flight of
a bird, and his diminished size as he approaches
the apex, gives us a better idea than aught else of
its height. In just nine minutes from the time of
starting he stands again at its base, his breathing
hardly disturbed by this great feat of rapid and
difficult climbing.
The sand of the desert beneath the mid-day
sun is scorchino^ us with its heat, and we turn
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 405
Cairo-ward. Now the Arabs rain their cries for
backsheesh; they press into the carriage; they
block its wheels and wholly impede the horses;
we give, and give, but in their love of money they
are thoroughly civilized. Finally, our dragoman
cries " enough" to us, the driver whips his horses
which make a way for themselves, while a dozen,
or thereabouts, of Arabs still run by our side,
keeping up with the running pace of the team
and demandinsf additional backsheesh. This
is, however, a sort of legitimate business, a
band of them paying the Government for the
exclusive right of serving visitors at the Pyra-
mids and of levying a tax upon them, while they
allow no one near but members of their own
band. Abdallah, whose name signifies servant
of God, still stays by us.
Our companions are an intelligent and
interesting lady from the northernmost part of
Scotland, and her niece; the former fancies she
would like to visit the Bedouin's home and family;
she tells him so and he is rather pleased. We
ask permission for the one gentleman of our
party to accompany us, but it is not for a male
Christian to enter within the sanctity of an Arab's
family circle; still the request is repeated, and
Abdallah, hesitating, fixes upon the gentleman
such a keen, scrutinizing gaze, that it were half
worth coming to Egypt to witness; the result of
406 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
the examination is favorable and the invitation is
extended to the gentleman likewise. But we find
that to reach the house it is necessary to ford a
stream; the gentleman declines to be carried
across, and, much as I admire the beauty of our
host, that is to be, I do not care about clasping-
my arms around his neck while being carried
through the stream upon the shoulders of himself
and an associate son of the desert. We two,
therefore, remain in the carriage and watch the
safe depositing of the two ladies upon the opposite
bank; we follow them with our eyes as they take
a path through a field of tall barley, our carriage
keeping abreast of them till, having advanced on
the road about half a mile, we see them arrive at
the little cluster of mud huts under a group of
palm trees, towards which their steps have been
leading them. Arrived there they find that
messengers announcing their coming have
evidently been sent on in advance, for a group of
women are squatted on the floor, and waiting to
receive them; there is the wife, the mother-in-law,
the uncle, there are several women, and children
with the usual fly-covered sore eyes. The house
being hot and smoky, with no aperture except
the door, our friends suggest it would be pleasant
to sit under the trees; and there questions are
freely asked and answered on both sides, and
rings, necklaces, bracelets and other jewelry are
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 407
brought out, shown, and even offered for sale if
the ladies desire them. " But why have they
left their husband in the carriage?" " Because
his favorite wife is there and he thinks more of
her than of any of his other wives; he does not
like to have her carried across the stream and
does not like to leave her." But the women
want verv much to see the other wife, and
Abdallah is sent half a mile to us, with a pressing
invitation and assurance of safety; but here the
water is much deeper than at the fording-place
further back; to keep his clothing dry Abdallah
himself must now be carried on the shoulders of
two men who wade through the water up to their
waists, and so the hospitable invitation is again
declined by us.
Meanwhile, coffee is made for our friends and
served to them in Arab style, in tiny cups held in
wrought brass or gilded holders; at last making
presents of money to the children who doubtless
expected it — for the Egyptian child cries for
backsheesh as soon as it is born — adieus are
spoken, thanks for hospitality given and received,
and our companions return to us who, with some
uneasiness, watch their transit across the stream.
Abdallah, notwithstanding our rejection of his
hospitality, brings to us in the carriage a small
pot of fresh-made coffee and cups to drink from;
at parting he promises a visit at our hotel;
408 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
whether the visit be rendered or not, we shall
always remember Abdallah, our Bedouin friend
of the Plains of Gizah.
As our returning carriage rolls smoothly along,
the shadow of the immense monuments we
have visited still projects itself into our thoughts,
creating there a mental twilight filled with the
monumental ghosts of a great, mysterious Past.
Cairo, Egypt, March, 1876.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 409
XLI.
HELIOPOLIS— MARY'S WELL— OBELISK OF OUSERTAN—
DRAGOMAN— SAI.S.
^O students of ancient history, to lovers of
its philosophers, the very word Heliopolis
has an inappreciable charm ; the City of
the Sun — that is, the feeder of life — as this city
was, indeed, the mental nurse, the school-room of
the greatest of the philosophers. From Cairo to
Heliopolis and back again is but a pleasant drive
of from two to four hours, just as you choose to
make it. Most of the road is delightful, shaded
on both sides by very large acacia trees, which
thrive wondrously in this soil and climate ; there
are also mulberry trees of most luxuriant growth,
whose berries we stopped to pluck and eat ; wild
flowers, and fields of the famous Egyptian barley
with its large grains swollen with the fatness of
the land, and its heavy heads each bearing nearly
twice the number of grains of the barley of our
country. On the way we stopped at some
gardens belonging to the Copts ; they were filled
with rare and choice flowers, which had blossomed
into gigantic specimens ; the walks were lined
with orange trees, whose fallen flowers flecked
26
4IO LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
our paths with their white petals, and with lemon
trees still retaining their blossoms or dropping
them upon us in showers of beauty. But the
great attraction to tourists, and to see which
everybody stops here, is a very ancient tree with
wide-spreading branches; it is a sort of sycamore,
bearing figs which, at our visit, were small and
unpalatable. The tree is known as " Mary's
Tree," from the tradition that Mary and Joseph
rested under its shade on their way when escaping
into Egypt. In the garden is also a well called
" Mary's Well," because she drank of its water
while reposing here, or, as the common people
will tell you, because she used its waters to wash
the clothes of the babe Jesus.
The once famous city of Heliopolis has
disappeared like the dew drunk up by the sun,
its sole vestige to be seen only in the ripening
fruit of subsequent ages. But one stone remains
to mark its erave. Its site is now converted into
a laree tract of cultivated fields, with not a
building, unless it be perhaps a mud hut or two,
for the habitation of man. This one stone, how-
ever, is a remnant worthy of the great city which
antedates historv. In the midst of a field of
barley is a little spot some thirty feet in diameter
and well worn by the feet of the traveler. To
reach it we leave the carriage and follow a half-
trodden path through the ripening harvest growth
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 4II
and thus arrive at the Obelisk of Ousertan, so
named from the king who erected it, and who
reigned two thousand seven hundred years before
Christ. This is the oklest known obehsk in
Egypt. One-third of it is buried under the
accumulated soil of fiftv centuries, and it still
stands from sixty to seventy feet high. It is
some six feet square at its base, and its sides are
largely covered with wasps' nests. The four sides
are engraved from base to top with hieroglyphics,
each of whose characters measures a foot or
two, and which present the outlines of birds,
of eyes, etc. It once was one of several pillars
standing at the entrance of the Great Temple of
the Sun, which adorned the City of the Sun ;
there is no other trace than this of the ancient
temple, but this alone is sufficient to suggest an
edifice of inconceivable grandeur. From one of
the angles of the obelisk a piece is split, and
Tolbah tells us that the Khedive once gave the
column away, and the attempt was being made to
remove it when it cried out with the voice of a
child ; the voice was listened to and heeded, and
hence the monument still stands to-day on its
original site.
Besides the cry for backsheesh, the great
demand upon travelers is for the purchase of
"antiques," which are thrust continually into one's
face with the cry of "Antique? antique.'*" and
412 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
we might have filled our trunks with these old
bits of rusty metal, bone, etc. As we stood at
the foot of the obelisk a little, tottling, nearly-
naked child, who could not fairly walk nor hardly
speak, came to us holding up a broken piece of
miniature mummy in light green crockery — a
trinket much sold here — and trying its best to say
the word " antique," which it had more than half
learned to pronounce.
But besides the many daily excursions to be
made, the conscientious tourist is not quite content
when night comes if he has not made the day
include a stroll through the native quarters, one
of the most curious of sights, and the very place
to which should come the political economist who
is studying to ascertain how to crowd together
the largest number of human beings into the
smallest space possible. An ant-hill at its highest
state of activity is desolate and deserted in com-
parison with these quarters. The houses are
generally very high, with frequent projecting bay-
windows made entirely of close-latticed wood-
work, and the streets are so narrow that these
windows, if opposite, would approach each other
very nearly. The people are lounging along the
length of these passages — their only streets —
sitting on the ground, leaning against the houses,
sleeping, eating, talking, musing and tending their
babies, occasionally at work at some light occupa-
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 413
tion, but usually idle rather than industrious; the
little shops with food for sale are not very appe-
tizing; at one place a native woman, coming to buy,
takes up a fish, bites a piece out of it, shakes her
head in disapproval of its quality, and then
passes on to bestow her patronage on a neigh-
borino; vender.
But the genuine bazaars are the real bee-hives,
and the traders in many of them are clean, well
dressed, and often in picturesque attire, or some-
times wearing European costumes — " Christian
dress," as it is called here. The bazaars are exten-
sive, irregular quarters, with intricate, winding,
and intersecting, narrow streets, presenting con-
tinuous lines of little shops, all the shops in one
quarter generally containing but one kind of
goods; for instance, hundreds of them, one after
the other, with nothing but shoes and slippers, but
these of every variety of color and degree of em-
broidery; thousands upon thousands of leather
slippers of bright yellow, much worn here, also
of bright red; street after street where nothing is
seen but slippers of every size, so covered with
gold and silver embroidery that the gay velvet or
cloth of the shoe is hardly seen. Another day
you visit the bazaars where nothing but embroi-
deries is for sale ; then there is the Gold Bazaar,
where only articles in gold are to be found, the
Silver Bazaar of the same nature, another with
414 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
nothing but silks from Damascus, another with
goods from Tripoli, from Tunis, and so on.
The merchants are often dressed in the costume
of the country from which they come. One of
the most benignant and kindly countenances I
ever saw was that of an Algerian sitting by his
commodities and looking with grave but gentle
expression upon a little boy, half embracing him;
he was an unusually large man, with delicate
skin, full white beard, and a white turban of ample
folds which, in the dim light of declining day,
gave an increased expression of softness to his
whole figure.
In another direction you come upon a conglom-
eration of little shops with nothing but perfumes
and essences from the East. The floor of these
tiny shops, which the one occupant almost fills, is
about as hio^h above the street as a table, and
wide enough for three persons to stand comfortably
before it; the shop is hardly so deep as it is wide;
in the centre, sitting cross-legged on the floor,
is the merchant, very likely dressed in a long,
gay-flowered silk robe, with tasseled girdle around
his waist, and becoming turban, his nargileh near
at hand, while at either side and behind him,
within reach of his hand without rising, are the
shelves containing his wares, bottles (large, small
and of every shape) filled with essential oil, attar
of roses, etc., and pastes or gums of pungent
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 415
flavor and fragrance, costly enough to be made
into balls hardly larger than a pea. These dealers
are usually rather elegant in their manners and
are quite liberal with their wares, with which they
smear your gloves and face and moisten yourhand-
kerchief, as if they were not selling them at as near
their weight in gold as they can make you pay.
The native Gold and Silver Bazaar is the most
crowded spot of all, and through the widest of
the streets it is but barely possible for your
carriage to make its way, while at every few
steps are litde side-passages so curious we cannot
resist them, and in which, aside from work-benches,
the artisans' little work-benches and tables placed
close to the walk, there is scarcely room for us to
press along in single file. Here you see the pure
gold without alloy, being beaten by hand-
instruments into various shapes, as cups, or
pendants for necklaces, ear-rings, bracelets, etc.,
making most curious and quaint ornaments. The
little apartment, quite open to the street, is hardly
the size of a medium bed, and in it and filling it
you may sometimes see the proprietor stretched
in sleep, or the sick lying on a sort of projecting
shelf filling up the passage and blocking your way;
in fact, the people are so close together that they
almost touch each other, and you sicken at the
thought of some contagious disease entering
among them.
41 6 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
It would be impossible to find our way through
the mysterious windings of the bazaars without
the oruidance of a dragoman. The bazaars must
be visited during the day only, for the true
Egyptian likes to go to sleep with the birds, and
darkness settles early over these quarters, from
the fact of the narrow streets being darkened and
protected from the burning rays of the sun by a
sort of roofing high above our heads, and con-
sisting of pieces of thin board, and of matting
stretched across from roof to opposite roof.
Nor can the stranger well force his way on
foot through the thronged streets, and a carriage
is a necessity. His equipage for driving through
the city must necessarily include at least three
attendants — the driver, the dragoman and the
sais. Our driver has a dark-brown skin, and is
dressed in a white cotton gown with red fez upon
his head. Tolbah, the dragoman, may always be
seen entering the waiting-hall at the fixed morning
hour, punctual as if he regulated the sun by his
movements, or throughout the day sitting on the
door-step when we are not using him. Tolbah
does not yet wear very elegant clothes, for it is
not long since he was only a donkey-boy,
and ran, half naked, behind his donkey, which he
propelled by continuous blows from his cudgel,
doubtless to the greater satisfaction of the rider
than of the beast. Tolbah wears a long, dingy,
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 417
blue dress, so wrapped about him as to hang in
indescribable but most graceful folds, and a light-
colored turban twisted around his head. But
Tolbah one day has a fight with another dragoman
who envies him for getting a party at this late
season of the year; they come to blows, and
Tolbah whips his opponent. This we know, for
he tells us so; but, for a victor, he is the most
thoroughly scared man I ever saw; and now,
every day when we come to a certain part of the
city, he leaves us at a certain point, and joins us
again beyond. He is hardly down from the
carriage when he draws out from under his dress
a black mantle some half-dozen yards in length,
and drapes himself in it so as to completely conceal
his face, and he has at the same time so disguised
his figure that we, who have watched the whole
proceeding, can hardly recognize his identity.
As we watch him slinking away through the
narrow streets, we feel very proud that it was
our drasfoman who o-ave the other one such a
whipping.
The sais is the peculiar institution, however,
that we most delicrht in. The first dav one of
our party thought him rather an imposition upon
us, and wanted to know what that man was along
for, but he found out before our arrival home.
The name of our sais is Abdallah, and the day of
our excursion to the Pyramids I was supported
4l8 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
on one side by Mahomet and on the other by
Abdallah. It is probable that the sais is the same
as the herald of ancient times. He is the indis-
pensable attendant upon every carriage, although
there are drives where he becomes a mere orna-
ment. In old Cairo, the most densely populated
part of the city, it would be impossible without
his services for the carriage to make its way
through such streets as are wide enough to admit
it. The sais always runs before the carriage,
shouting at every few steps, and waving his wand-
like rod, the people press against the walls of the
houses, and thus we penetrate through the crowd.
The sais, as an institution, is the most orna-
mental thing in Egypt, and the elegance of his
costume corresponds to the wealth of his master.
His dress is of white cotton or linen, reaching in
the shape of very loose trousers only to his knees,
his legs and feet remaining quite bare ; the white
sleeves are long and open, each measuring some
two yards around the hand, and the points of
these are pinned together behind, and, filling out
balloon-like with the wind as he runs, they give
to his rapid course an aspect like the winged
flight of a bird. Over the white garment, he
wears a bright colored sort of Zouave jacket —
red, purple, yellow or blue — which often only
comes up over one shoulder and slants down
under the other arm to the waist. This jacket is
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 419
most exquisitely embroidered in gold, silver or
contrasting color ; around his waist is wound a
broad sash of rich silk, its ends hanging at his
side ; in his hand he carries a slender rod twice
the height of himself; this rod should be of
bright color, highly ornamented in gold, silver
or ivory. Yet it is not his dress which contributes
most to the impression the sais makes upon the
beholder ; it is the wonderful beauty of his figure
and his erace of motion ; the wand he carries
is not straighter than himself, nor does it bend
with greater suppleness and grace, while his
step and gait are the very poetry of motion.
The sais is trained to his office, and his powers
are most wonderful ; I have been told he will
run all day long, and I, myself, have seen a sais
run without pause mile after mile before a fast-
trotting horse. The carriages we have seen
from the establishment of the Khedive have
each eight of these attendants; first, two mounted
on horseback followed by two running on foot ;
then comes the carriage, followed by two foot-
runners and two mounted sais behind. The
whole train passes at rapid speed, carriage, out-
runners and riders all maintaining a constant
uniform distance from each other.
Cairo, Egypt, April, 1876.
420 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
XLII.
CITADEL OF CAIRO— UNIVERSITY OF EGYPT— MOSQUES—
THEIR REMARKABLE FEATURES AND PROPERTIES.
VISIT to the Citadel is one of the
items which the tourist must never
omit from his list of things of
greatest interest in Cairo. The Citadel, seven
hundred years old, is built on an elevated site
commanding the city and surrounding plains — the
valley of the Nile — while behind rises above it an
immense natural fortification of rock looking
terrible in its immense strength.
From the parapet of the Citadel we had a wide
and wonderful view of the strange, dusky-hued,
ancient city — a forest of minarets — and of the
desert stretching out beyond, embracing in its
horizon the Pyramids of Gizah, and Heliopolis,
and the plains of Memphis ; the whole monotone
landscape bathed in the sunbeams from a cloudless
sky — sifted, as it were, through the yellow sand
of the desert.
Within the Citadel we were shown the court
where occurred the terrible massacre of the
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 42 1
Mamelukes, who had been artfully enticed
therein, and where four hundred and thirty-nine of
them were put to death ; one only, as the story
goes, escaping by making a most incredible leap
over the high and abrupt walls. To the present
day the point from which he leaped with his
horse is still pointed out. Within the Citadel
walls is also the Mosque of Mohammed Ali,
which looks quite new, and is, in fact, the only
one we visited which did not bear the marks of
the grime of age, of dilapidation and decay.
This mosque is an imposing building, of grandest
dimensions, the floor entirely covered with thick
Eastern carpets, its whole extent bare of seat or
other obstruction, except the four immense pillars
supporting the great dome, and intervening
between it and the four lesser domes that
surround it. These immense pillars are of
transparent yellow and white alabaster, and a
large portion of the whole surface of the interior
walls is of the same precious and beautiful
material ; in one corner, and inclosed by a high
gilt bronze railing, is the tomb of Mohammed Ali.
As we leave the Citadel we flrst visit Joseph's
Well, which popular story improperly connects
with the Joseph sold into slavery by his brothers;
indeed, the well was known as such in very
ancient Egyptian records ; it was for many
centuries filled with sand and nearly lost; to get
42 2 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
to it we went up and down through the dirtiest
kind of barnyard and stable places. The water
is drawn up from a great depth to nearly a level
with the Citadel by means of a sort of windlass
and horizontal wheel turned by two Egyptian
buffaloes, which animal here takes the place of
our field ox. We had some water drawn up for
ourselves, and we all drank of it to the memory of
Joseph.
In many respects all the mosques, be they
newer or older, more or less dirty, are alike. In
the first place each has its fountain in its open,
roofless court. The fountain is a pool or basin of
water elevated a few steps above the pavement,
and is two or three feet deep and some twenty or
thirty feet in diameter. It is covered by a roof
supported by pillars rising from the rim of the
basin or by a central shaft. Perched upon this
rim are always to be seen several Mussulmans
performing the ablution imperative upon them
before offering their prayer. They wash them-
selves quite thoroughly, face, hands, arms, neck,
feet, nostrils, ears and mouth. The interior of
the mosques is empty and is always built with a
mihrab and a mastaba.
The mihrab is simply a small arched alcove ; on
its arch it generally bears an inscription from the
Koran. The mihrab is always built in that wall
of the building which faces towards Mecca, in
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 423
order that to the faithful, who must always pray
with their faces in that direction, it may serve as
a sort of one-pointed compass.
The mastaba, or tribune for readers, corresponds
to the pulpit of our churches. It is a small, high
platform with a straight, narrow flight of steps
leading up in front of it, and from it the priest
explains the Koran to the faithful, few of whom,
I believe, can read it for themselves. Christians
are never admitted to the mosques during the
Friday services.
Again, into no mosque may Mussulman,
Christian or Heathen enter without removing the
shoes from his feet. The Mussulman goes in
with his clean-washed bare feet ; for Christians
there are always kept a few pairs of large slippers
of plaited grass or reeds. In one instance there
were not slippers enough for all, and the odd
member of our party, declining to walk in his
stockine-feet, was oblioed to remain at the
entrance, where a crowd of young- Mohammedan
urchins paid their respects to him by spitting at
him.
A large number of the mosques are immense,
half dilapidated and wholly dirty places. The
first mosque we visited was that of Hassan.
, This was built from stones taken from one of the
Pyramids, being built as it now stands without a
roof; the court of the fountain is in the centre
424 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
and the body of the mosque Is a surrounding
colonnade, with pointed arches connecting the
pillars ; but in the rear is the tomb of the Cahph
Hassan, Its builder, which is In the centre of an
apartment roofed in with a dilapidated dome
crowning its lofty walls. It Is said that the
architect, having finished his work, had his hand
cut off to prevent his ever planning a rival edifice.
The Mosque of Amron Is one of the largest.
Its central court Is a barren, leafless tract of sun-
baked earth nearly white, to cross which at
mid-day Is like making an excursion across the
burning desert. Extending around the four sides
of this vast barren square are deep colonnades
with roofs, but with no side-walls toward the
court, and the colonnade consists of many, many
hundreds of stone and marble pillars. One of
these has a remarkable history. It stood In
Mecca, where the Prophet one day seeing it,
struck it with his whip and commanded it to
fly to Cairo, which order the pillar obeyed,
accomplishing the journey in less than a minute.
Tolbah, our dragoman, is quite certain in regard
to the length of time. The mark of the whip Is
still to be seen upon It. The pillar is of light
gray marble, and one may easily see a vein of a
darker shade, forming a peculiar waved line about^
six inches in length, a line long known to be the
handwriting of the Almighty, which, however, no
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 425
one could read until the gifted Caliph Omar
translated it.
Not far from the pillar, in the same mosque,
is a well which is mysteriously connected with
the famous well of Zem-Zem in Mecca, but we
were not told how it finds its way through
the Red Sea. A stone of the pavement of the
colonnade forms the cover to the well. We
were told that a draught of the water would cure
all disease and insure perfect health ; hence a
Moslem urchin was dispatched in quest of a stone
jug, which was lowered into the well and filled;
it being raised again, we all then drank from its
overflowing brim and have known no illness
since. The water has an alkaline taste like that
of Zem-Zem, the sacred well from which every
Mohammedan making a pilgrimage to Mecca
drinks, and in which he bathes.
Another mosque contains a piece of black
stone, looking something like hardened asphaltum;
on this is the imprint of a colossal foot — it is the
footprint of the Prophet. One of our party asked
how that could be; were himself to step on a
stone there would be no impress left. Tolbah,
with turban wound around his head, his long blue
mantle falling in loose and ample folds all around
his person, laid his hand reverently upon his hearty
and, rolling his eyes heavenward, said, in tones
of reproof, " Because Mohammed same as God."
27
426 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
We felt a little conscience-stricken for treatinof so
lightly what was so sacred to him, and listened
afterward twice as reverently to his stories.
But almost the strangest sight in Egypt was
at the Mosque of El Azhan, Here is the oldest
and largest University in all the East, and the
number of students studying there at any one
time may be counted by thousands. It was
already our last day in Cairo and we wished to
visit it. Formerly, Christians were exposed to
insult here and a guard was at least advisable if
not necessary, and therefore we were obliged to
take one, but in our visit we found no reason
to suppose that state of things still to exist. We
were nearly two hours in an open carriage under
the scorching heat of the mid-day sun, first to get
a ticket of admission and then to obtain a police
officer to accompany us. We drove through
the wholly native quarters of old Cairo, and
alighting found our way through narrow alleys to
the Mosque itself. The school was in session,
or I might rather say in recumbence, as I suppose
It always is, for the students sleep, eat and study
all on the same spot. Around the court of the
fountain were galleries where, as well as upon the
ground below, mattresses and beds were spread
out; we entered and found ourselves in the body
of the edifice, which was long and large, with
roof and walls on both sides; it could contain at
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 427
least two thousand persons. It was so filled
with students that it was with great difficulty we
could make our way among them without some-
times stepping upon them. These students, like
all the rest of the natives, looked like half-naked,
dirty beggars, who would hardly be allowed to be
seen in our streets. Throughout the buildino-
they were crowded equally close together. Of
course there were no seats, nothing but here and
there patches of straw matting; some students
were lying asleep stretched out at full length on
the floor; others, seated cross-legged, were reeling
backwards and forwards and repeating aloud the
lesson they seemed to be committing to memory
from the book before them; others, seated in the
same manner, were transcribing or ciphering. I
took the book from two or three and looked at it
without any opposition on their part; the books
bore the impress of age but of careful use. The
students ranged in age from boys of fifteen years
to middle-aged men. Occasionally we came near
treading on a spread-out, on the tioor, of thin,
round cakes, evidently for sale to the students, of
whom some here and there were eatine, but
always alone. The civilized pleasure of social
meals I judge to be unknown to them.
It takes several days to visit those mosques
most worthy to be seen, but their whole number
is innumerable. Women, as they have no souls.
428 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
are not admitted to Friday worship. There is
no hour when there may not be seen a larger or
a lesser number of the faithful at prayer, and their
successive kneelings, touchings of the forehead to
the ground, risings and final turnings of the head
from side to side are always the same.
There is no mosque without one or several
slender minarets rising high above the rest of the
building, and these, when seen at a little distance,
constitute one of the most picturesque features of
an Eastern city. Some of the mosques are
painted in broad, lateral, red and white bands, a
foot or two in width.
We visited one Christian church, known as the
Coptic Church. This is situated in one of the
dirtiest parts of the city, and as we walked through
the filthy, narrow lanes the stench almost choked
us in spite of muffled nostrils and mouth. The
Copts are, I believe, the only native Christians —
a branch of the Catholic Church, almost or quite
the oldest in the world. The women are veiled
the same as the Mohammedan women, but with
some distinguishing mark of color in their dress.
Arrived at last at the church-building we found it
dark and dirty enough, and hid away in the depth
of almost unthreadable labyrinths, but sufficiently
curious to be worthy of its great antiquity. The
inside walls are very elaborately inlaid with very
fine open-work carvings in real ivory, and high
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 429
screens before the altar are largely made of panels
of the same. The ivory is brown with age, and
the church, though small, shows everywhere the
marks of extreme ancient richness. A railing in
the centre surrounds a flight of steps which
descends into a subterranean chapel, where, during
her flight into Egypt, the Virgin, with her Babe,
hid herself for several days. About to leave the
church, an additional demand was made upon our
purse, when, after we had distributed the usual
backsheesh among the crowd of Copts who had
collected around us, one of them seized a plate
from the altar and cried, ** Backsheesh for the
Virgin Mary!"
Cairo, Egypt, April, 1876.
430 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
XLIII.
EGYPT— PALACE OF GHEEZEH— TRAVELERS FROM THE
HOLY LAND— FAREWELL.
\UR interesting excursions in Cairo and its
vicinity are approaching their close, but
one thing we have not yet seen, and that
is "Joseph's Granaries." A pleasant and intelli-
gent Scotch lady, who makes one of our party, is
most anxious to see them, but Tolbah, when he
took his diploma as dragoman, did n't graduate in
the granary department. Every morning reg-
ularly when we start upon our drives one of the
first remarks is, "Tolbah, we want to go to
Joseph's Granaries to-day." At first Tolbah tries
to put us off by offering to show us the place
where Moses was found in the bulrushes, but that
only sharpens our curiosity for the granaries.
Tolbah evidendy consults other dragoman
authority, and next tells us that they do not exist
any more — " it's all the same as the street;" but
then we want to see the street, the place where
they once were, and so we torment Tolbah with
Joseph's Granaries till, I have no doubt, he wishes
Joseph had never built them.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 43 1
Day by day the weather is increasing in heat
and warning us to make the best use of our time;
and, although we start at an early hour, we are
almost scorched by the sun as we drive across
the Nile to visit the Palace and Gardens of
Gheezeh. The palace is built directly on the
river bank. The gardens are lar^e and beautifully
laid out; they also present a good display of
flowers, but we could not help saying to ourselves,
"Were this already beautiful spot but in the
hands of a skillful and educated European
gardener, what a paradise it might become."
There was also an extensive zoological department
well filled with a great variety of animals, from
all kinds of elephants to the prettiest and most
curious birds. After wandering through the
gardens as long as we could endure the heat, we
next turned our steps to the kiosk, a one-story
summer-house containing several apartments, and
which pleased me even more than the palace a
little beyond — in fact, it impressed me as the
most charming house I ever saw. It is fitted up
chiefly in European style for the entertainment
of European royal guests. The kiosk consists of
some six or eight large and lofty rooms. The
ceilings are frescoed in delicate colors; crystal and
gilt chandeliers are suspended from them, while
the floors are all of most beautiful marble highly
polished, the centre only of some of them being
432 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
covered with carpets, brilllant-hued and very
thick; the furniture is European, and upholstered
in brio^ht-colored satins and damasks.
But the architecture is the most pleasing part.
The rooms all open into each other, and the
length of the building is broken in the centre by
a court, roofed overhead, but with open sides ; its
marble pavement is on a level with the marble
drawing-room, which opens upon it at one end,
and with the marble dining-room at the other end.
A fountain rises in its centre, and vari-colored
swinging lamps are suspended from the roof,
which is supported by graceful arches resting on
pillars extremely slender and graceful, yet not
giving the idea of fragility. These pillars and
arches are dark-colored and elaborately gilded.
A balcony in the same style of architecture
surrounds the kiosk. One of the rooms was
noticed by the attendant who waited upon us as
the one where the Khedive best likes to sleep
when here, but in reply to our remark that no
bed was to be seen, we were told that one is
always brought in when the Khedive wishes to
sleep in this apartment; hence it may be taken for
granted that, like his subjects, the Khedive of
Egypt sleeps on the floor and finds it very
convenient to roll up his bed and carry it to what-
ever spot may be coolest.
The dining-room was European, with long
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 433
table and chairs, two for royalty being ornamented
with crowns. The mirrored sideboards were
resplendent with white and colored glasses of
choicest desio-n. There were Sevres vases on
pedestals and some four or five fountains around
the room to sprinkle their falling water upon the
flowers with which their basins were to be filled.
From the kiosk we again stroll through the
garden, till we come upon a grotto, or rather a
gallery of grottoes, built of a sort of artificial lava
rock, and very curious. Through winding
passages, in which we become lost and confused,
we make our way between rocky walls and under
a roof hung with stalactites. At intervals the
passage widens out, or turns aside into larger
grottoes which usually command through opening
vistas a peep into the gardens. Such grottoes
are fitted up with rustic seats and table. All the
ground under foot is laid in a mosaic of pebbles,
and we notice gas-burners projecting here and
there from the walls for illuminating the grotto
at evening.
Emerging from the grotto into the garden
again, we advance through shady avenues of
trees, and finally reach the palace itself, a fine,
modern building. We were not admitted to the
part occupied by the women, but were shown
many royal rooms and those destined for the use
of European royal visitors.
434 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
On the ground floor we first enter an immense
marble hall, among the various furniture of which
we notice tables, flower-stands, and so forth, in
fanciful design and painted red, with trimmings
of blue and gold. All is gay, for, ever as you
approach the equator from the north, beginning
perhaps to be marked in the latitude of northern
Italy and Turkey, the taste for bright colors
grows with the brightening skies and more
glowing sunlight. A broad marble stairway
ascends from this hall ; it is lighted overhead by
a roof elaborately set in glass, chiefly yellow,
which color seems to gild the golden rays of the
sun ; on either side of the banister at the foot of
the stairs are two exceedingly pretty statues in
marble; half-way up, where the stairway branches
ofl" to the right and to the left, is a piece of
marble sculpture representing a winged youth
seated on the parapet of a tower, and laughing as
if playing with the lightning as he holds the
upper end of the lightning-rod fastened to the
wall of the tower beneath him ; underneath is a
bas-relief medallion of Benjamin Franklin, with
the motto in Latin, "He snatched the lightning
from heaven." We should much sooner have
expected to see Moses than Franklin in this
place.
At the head of the stairs is another hall, with
walls and floor of white marble ; its windows
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 435
open upon a balcony looking down directly upon
the broad waters of the Nile and across to grand
old Cairo on its opposite shore. The colored
sunlight descends through the roof of glass upon
furniture shining with golden satin looking like a
bed of sunlight, its glare tempered by an embossed
lace pattern in silvery silk. High vases of rare
Egyptian marbles break the long lines of the hall,
and chandeliers of rich cut glass catch the light
to send it dancing through the air in broken bits
of rainbow.
We were shown the rooms occupied by the
Prince of Wales during his visit here on his
Indian journey. His bedroom, dressing-room
and bathroom were all fitted in bright blue and
gold; all the rooms in the palace seemed as high
as a whole house with us, and, of course, the
tropical climate must demand extremely lofty and
spacious apartments. The walls of the bed-
chamber were upholstered in blue satin forming
diamond- shaped puffs, held in place by rosette-
buttons of yellow and white satin that resembled
tiny marguerites or daisies; the ceiling overhead
was frescoed with a centre-piece representing
Aurora scattering flowers ; the bed was hung with
a mosquito-net of white silk gauze striped with
blue, outside of which were blue satin curtains
festooned and trimmed with fringe and tassels of
gold-colored silk ; furniture, writing materials,
436 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
everything, was of the same color. The walls of
the adjoining dressing-room were in quilted satin
like the bed-chamber, but the ceiling overhead
was covered with blue satin plaited into a pattern
whose various parts were divided by lines of
golden silk cord. In the bathroom the walls
were of plain blue satin, and the ceiling overhead
of blue velvet with rays of yellow cord. After
these rooms we were shown into many other
apartments, all of equal richness and size, but
European rather than Eastern in character. In
the whole palace there was but one picture, and
that one not extraordinary, and there was but
little sculpture. One of the most beautiful
features of the palace, and one repeated in several
of its apartments, were chimney-pieces, consisting
of mantel and mirror frame, apparently all in one
piece, of very beautiful white alabaster, having a
polish like satin; the model of these corresponded
with the architecture of the palace and kiosk;
the same slender, delicate columns, the same
beautiful arches.
On our way home we visited the royal stables.
The greater number of the horses had gone to
the sea-shore for the Summer, and those we did
see were mostly English horses under the care of
an English groom. The Arab horse is not at all
the handsome horse I had imagined it, and its
most striking feature is the shortness of its neck ;
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 437
in fact, the Arab horse has almost no neck at all.
:;■; :^ ^ ii; i-\ ijf
From Carlo, as from other places, we carry-
away pleasant remembrances of dinner-table
acquaintances and entertaining chance com-
panions. Our Scotch lady friend contributes to
the bill of fare of the day's sight-seeing, side-dishes
of anecdote from the most northern county of
Scotland, where to shave the beard of a Sunday
or to receive a letter on that day is a crime
immeasurably more heinous than getting drunk
or telling lies about one's neighbors. One day
the company at table was individually airing its
knowledge of the Koran and Mohammedanism in
general, when this lady and another seeking to
give even the Prophet his due, credited him with
having done some things that at least are not bad.
At table was also a Scotch divine, in general
charge of the whole field of Presbyterian
missionary labor in Turkey, Egypt and Palestine,
and such opinions were more than rigid and
inveterate Scotch Presbyterianism could bear, and
it was worth the most effective eloquence from
practiced dramatist on the stage to hear the rich
Northern accent, the full rolling of the voice,
the Scotch curtness and the Scotch decision with
which he exclaimed, somewhat sarcastically, " I
don't know what you ladies think, but / think he
was a s-c-o-u-n-d-r-e-l ! "
438 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
At last our pleasant little company separates in
diverging directions, and we retrace our way to
Alexandria, thence for a tour through the isles of
the Mediterranean, notwithstanding that, lying
temptingly near us is the Holy \^2ind. par excellence,
for the thoughtful wanderer, in distant journeyings
reading ever backwards through the world's
history, comes at last to feel that wherever he
treads is holy ground.
Our further path, however, meets the current of
returning travel from Asia, and we learn much at
second-hand from the yet fresh impressions of
numerous travelers thence; still more from others,
long-time residents there ; moreover, we escape
the reputation of being possessed by an evil
spirit, the belief, as we learn from one who has
spent a life-time among them, that the Eastern
natives entertain regarding their European visitors,
whom they also suppose to be driven, by the
same evil spirit, from one part of the world to
another in search of hidden treasure.
Nor are there wanting lessons from the Holy
Land of the Mohammedan as well as from that of
the Jew and the Christian, as, sailing hither and
thither, from island to island, and from port to
port of the Eastern Mediterranean, on almost
every steamer we find the space allotted to such
passengers overcrowded with pilgrims returning
from Mecca, most of them ragged, dirty, carrying
LETTERS OF TRAVEL. 439
bed and food as they travel, yet impelled by
religious sentiment to this most sacred pilgrimage
with observance of its prescribed ceremonies, and
at cost of danger, distress and sacrifice of scant
wealth ; their simple-minded devotion admonishes
us — curious lookers-on, claiming to be guided by
a superior light — as, far from minareted-mosque,
they yet hear in their hearts the muezzin-call of
the Spirit, and in humble response, unheedful of
our obtrusive gaze, turn their faces to Mecca,
and, kneeling, repeat the prayers of the Faithful.
But it is easier to talk of leaving Alexandria
than to do it. Thinking we have traveled enough
to be able at least to get on board a steamer
without assistance, we take no porter with us from
the hotel. The carriage stops on the wharf, and
a small army assails us. It is with the greatest
difficulty that we retain possession of our hand-
satchels and lighter baggage; once from our
grasp and each will be carried in a different
direction, and which shall we follow? Unable to
get hold of our baggage, a dozen different boat-
men seize hold of us by arm, shoulder and
package ; a spare hand grabs our trunk, and we
follow it to the door of the Custom-house, where
one of the Arabs, or robbers, or whatever they
be, demands that we pay duty on our trunk
leaving the country. We think he has for once
made a mistake in the word, but as he doesn't
440 LETTERS OF TRAVEL.
call it backsheesh and as there is nobody to help
us, we pay this self-constituted Custom-house
officer what he demands, on condition that he
shall put our trunk into a boat, and we finally
embark with it for the steamer lying out in the
harbor. We think it a master-stroke of policy to
have engaged a deaf and dumb boatman, but we
change our mind when, a few yards from the
shore, the mute lays down his oars and holds up
his fingers, demanding more passage-money,
howling then and making the most hideous noises
close to our ears and refusing to understand all
our signs. We find there is no talking back to a
man without ears, and so, finally, rather than
spend the rest of our lives in the harbor of
Alexandria, midway between ship and shore, we
submit to a compromise. The mute upon that
takes up his oars, and we are soon ascending the
ship's ladder, and a half-hour later looking our
last upon the low, receding shore, dividing with
its white line the blue of the heavens above from
the blue of the waters below.
Cairo, Egypt, April, 1876.
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