'^^'— 
 

 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 a MANEY, Henry, Memories Over the Water, 
 introduction by Edwin H. Ewing. 1st ed., Nash- 
 ville, 1854. S5.00 
 * These sketches were 1st published in the 
 Nashville Gazette.
 
 M E M U I E S 
 
 OVER THE WATER, 
 
 OB 
 
 STRAY THOUGHTS ON A LONG STROLL. 
 
 BT 
 
 HENRY MANEY. 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTORY 
 
 BV THE 
 
 HON. EDWIN n . E W I N a . 
 
 NASIIVIL]^: 
 
 TOON, NELSON <fe COMPANY, 
 
 18 5 4.
 
 Eutered, according to act of Congress, in the year 1854, by 
 
 TOON, NELSON & CO., 
 
 In the Clerk's OfBce of the District Court of the United States, for the Middle 
 
 District of Tennessee. 
 
 C. A. MORGAN & CO., 
 STERE0TYPEE3 AND PUBLISHERS, 
 
 HAKMOHD STREET. 
 
 c « « t c
 
 
 
 DEDICATED 
 
 TO TUG 
 
 MEirOHY OF MISS F. W. S., OF MIIFIIEESBOIIOUGH, N. C. 
 
 P^ In the Btill, darkened home, time can never replace 
 ^ Her fair winsome beauty, her gladness and grace ; 
 
 So light was her footstep, so joyous her eye, 
 ^ Who ever had thought that the dear one could die? 
 ol But make ye a chamber, for the fair one to rest, 
 g "Where the sun-light may fall from the amber-hued "West, 
 For, as one at Machpelah, tho' beauteous and bright, 
 Was buried by sorrowing love out of sight, 
 O So we, gentle friends, crave, in mem'ry, a place 
 
 ^ To embalm this pure casket of beauty and grace. 
 
 § She hath left us her virtues, as jewels to keep— 
 
 ■•^ And so lot the young and the beautiful sleep! 
 
 ij ( iii ) 
 
 448SS3
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 It has been said that when a man sits doggedly in 
 his study, and says to himself, " I mean to write a 
 good book," it is certain, from the necessity of the 
 case, that the result will be a bad one. If the result 
 of our book is a bad one it cannot be from this 
 cause. For the succeeding sketches were loosely thrown 
 together, and originally published, under the signature 
 of " Quoi DoNC," for the amusement of the readers of 
 the "Nashville Gazette," without the remotest idea, at 
 the time, of their ever coming before the public in 
 the shape of a book. But by some singular chance — 
 whether at the solicitation of numerous friends, or for 
 the fulfillment of some enemy's prayer, we '11 not stop to 
 consider — they certainly have assumed that form. Writ- 
 ten at an early age, when Fancy more than Fact was 
 the bias of the mind, conscious of their defects, though 
 confident of the reader's charity, the Author would even 
 yet hesitate to put them before the public, did he not 
 know that, with the Introductory of his friend and 
 fellow-traveler, the Hon. Edwin H. Ewing, who has 
 kindly consented thus to preface them, they cannot prove 
 unwelcome. In giving them up to the world, he would 
 only say, with the Bard, 
 
 " Ye who shall trace the pilgrim to the scene 
 Whicli is liis last, if on your memories dwell 
 A thought which once was his — if on ye swell 
 A single recollection, not in vain 
 He wore his saudal-shoon and scallop-shell." 
 
 (V)
 
 Xashv'ille, Ajyril 6(h, 1854. 
 EDWIN II. EWING, ESQ.: 
 
 My Dear Sir — As you are aware, some time after 
 my return from Europe I commenced a series of Sketches, 
 recounting incidents of travel, etc., under the nom de plume 
 of Quoi DoNC. These sketches, which were pubUshed in 
 the Nashville Gazette, met with the kind approval of some 
 of my friends ; and when they were finished, the partial 
 favor of these same friends induced them, perhaps, to re- 
 quest of me that the letters should be published in some 
 more durable form. Having resolved to publish, I would 
 fain find some ground upon which I may stand, in justifi- 
 cation of my course, more reliable than friendly partiality. 
 I knew something of the severity of your judgment, and 
 therefore did not dare to submit to you, in the first instance, 
 the question whether I should publish or not ; but I know, 
 also, something of the substantial kindness of your temper, 
 and of your ingenuity even in "making the worst appear 
 the better reason," where one is irretrievably committed. 
 And so, now, I may venture to ask you — Have I done 
 well, or have I done ill ? If you should not choose to 
 express an opinion upon this important question, still I 
 should be glad that you would write something to me in 
 return, as I feel that there is a peculiar propriety in con- 
 necting your name with my Travels. You were the first 
 sufrsrester of a foreiim tour amonsr us, and, te duce, much of 
 my travel was performed, and many of my most important 
 
 observations made. 
 
 Your friend, 
 
 HENRY MANEY. 
 ^ vii>
 
 LNTRODUCTORY LETTER FROM HOiN. EDWIN 11. EWING. 
 
 Nashville, April Qth, 1854. 
 HENEY MANET, ESQ.: 
 
 My Dear Friend — As you have already determined 
 to commit your barque to the waves of pubhc opinion, you 
 must, I suppose, abide their buffets ; nor can I or any one 
 else interpose a shield that will break their force. Hap- 
 pily, I think, you will not need such a shield. 
 
 Soon after my return from Europe, I found you in a 
 course of publication in the Gazette, and naturally turned 
 with interest to see how the sights and incidents that we 
 had witnessed together would tell to me, who had been an 
 actor, as well as to those who had remained at home not 
 altogether uninterested inquirers after our wanderings. I 
 turned too, with no incurious eye, to your Letters, to see 
 what impression had been made upon one young, ardent 
 and enthusiastic as yourself, by objects which I had also 
 viewed with a mind worn, jaded, and then somewhat weary 
 of the things of life. Romance, with me, was but a memory; 
 with you it was the day-spring of life ; History to you was 
 a living picture; to me it was but a mouldering skeleton. 
 To the one the Poetry, the Painting, the Music of by-gone 
 times were wells of inspiration ; while to the other, they 
 were but the insipid waters of the stagnant reservoir. The 
 reading of your letters was then to me not merely the 
 renewal of faded memories — the repainting of scenes dim- 
 med by time and distance — the replacing of forgotten inci- 
 
 ( viii )
 
 Leiteu FiioM Hon. Edwin 11. Ewinu. ix 
 
 dents, but it was as if I had seen again, and from a differ- 
 ent point of view, the cities and structures, the rivers and 
 mountains, the landscapes and objects of art, the manners 
 and customs of the elder continent. The sullen roar of 
 London, the gay rattle of Paris, the smiling quietude of 
 Florence, the solemn grandeur of voiceless Rome, were all 
 renewed before me ; and not renewed only, but quickened 
 and vivified, and rendered doubly suggestive. 
 
 These were naturally the impressions and feelings pro- 
 duced upon my mind by the reading of your letters, seeing 
 that we had traveled over a good portion of Europe toge- 
 ther, and that, previously to our becoming fellow-travelers, 
 we had separately traversed the same ground. What 
 impression they may make upon the mind of the general 
 public, in these days, when books of travels are so abun- 
 dant — when Europe has become but a holiday-ground for 
 American idlers, and when even the "ancestral East" is 
 yearly invaded by traveling armies — it is not a little difficult 
 to say. Nor is it any part of my intention to forestall public 
 opinion by an expression of my own, which, at best, might 
 be regarded as prejudiced and partial. Thus much, how- 
 ever, I may say with propriety — that your book will be 
 found free from that vice, so common to books of travels, 
 as to have brourrht them to rank as next of kin to works of 
 fiction, if not in the same category. I mean the want of 
 veracity, and even sometimes of veri-similitude. The trav- 
 eler seems to forget, in most instances, that he is a his- 
 torian and not a poet, and that the Muses have not, as yet, 
 allowed to the one the "license" so generously extended to 
 the other. Exaggerated descriptions, factitious incidents, 
 quaint adventures, "wondrous scapes by flood and field,"
 
 X Introductory Letter from 
 
 are pressed into service, to eke out what it is feared might 
 be otherwise tame and uninteresting; and such general 
 discredit is thus brought upon this character of writing, 
 that "he hes hke a traveler" has passed almost into a 
 proverb. 
 
 Traveling, as you did, from the interior of America 
 through your own country, and crossing the ocean, 
 through the British Isles, France, Switzerland, Germany 
 and Italy, you have certainly had ample opportunity to see 
 and to recount matters of interest to those whom duty or 
 incHnation has kept within their native territory. To the 
 graphic character of your descriptions ; to your truthful and 
 yet pleasing pictures of manners and customs ; to your life- 
 like painting of landscapes and scenery; to your accurate 
 delineation of works of art; to your just presentation of the 
 world-renowned structures of the architect, and withal to 
 your agreeable and appropriate infusion of incidents of 
 travel, I may not be allowed to testify. These must be 
 found by the reading of your book. 
 
 Your work will have at least one peculiarity, and indeed 
 one advantage in the State in which you live. You are, I 
 believe, the first Tennessean who has undertaken to pub- 
 lish a book of foreign travel. Those who have preceded 
 you from this State, in the great track of curiosity and 
 instruction, have been content with the name of " Hadji," 
 and with fireside details of what they had heard and seen 
 in distant lands. Your book will give to those who have 
 known you, nearly a realizing sense of the existence and 
 character of foreign countries which they have never yet ex- 
 perienced. Your reality will make substantial what before 
 was somewhat dim and shadowy. The distant country, seen
 
 Hon. Edwin II. Ewing. xi 
 
 through the distant author, leaves large scope for optical 
 illusions, and both are felt to be in a slight degree myth- 
 ical. The book is, in that case, but the picture of both, and 
 the material proof is wanting. Your book, on the con- 
 trary, will have the advantage, with your immediate fellow- 
 citizens, of a "tale that is told." They will feel a prox- 
 imity, and as it were an identity with the scenes described 
 and the incidents recounted, that nothing else could give 
 them. Beginning at your and their common home, you 
 will travel and return toijether. From the heart of our 
 Republic to the " Toe of Italy," they will be led insensibly 
 on, seeing and feeling all that of which before they had 
 only vaguely thought or faintly heard. Such, at least, has 
 been my observation and experience of the difference 
 between reading: the book of an author whom I had seen 
 and personally known, and the book of one who was known 
 to me only by its contents or by the trumpet of Fame. 
 
 As a matter of private feeling, I am glad that one of 
 those with whom I traveled has thought proper to give the 
 results of his observation to the public eye. I hope that 
 it may be the means of inspiring others to enlarge their 
 experience, and gratify their longings by a communion 
 with the people of other lands. That they may be induced 
 to enjoy the intense satisfaction to be derived by Avell- 
 stored minds in a nearer approach to the fields and scenes 
 of "modem instance," and of "ancient story." That 
 they may be persuaded to garner up for themselves a 
 treasure of rich memories, which are at last the only virgin 
 gold in the storehouse of the mind. Who would deny him- 
 self, if he could but know it in advance, the glorious joy 
 of standing upon an Alpine height and looking upon the
 
 xii Intkoductoky Lettek from 
 
 snow-clad giants that rest around him in the dignity of 
 lasting silence ? Who Avould refuse himself the memory 
 of having stood upon some field of blood, -where he 
 could almost hear the tramp of charging squadrons, and 
 the despairing cry of down-trodden thousands from the 
 "lost battle flvinsr?" Who would forget the fearful hor- 
 ror with which he had looked into the bowels of Vesu- 
 vius, beetling upon its crater's "perilous edge," and 
 dumb with awe at the dread throes of mysterious nature 
 in this her last retreat? Whose heart should not leap 
 with the thought of seeing the faded glories of Venice, 
 "the City of the Sea," the throneless Adrian Queen; of 
 basking upon the sunlit shores of Naples' bay, with its 
 vine-clad hills and smihng islands, rich in remains of the 
 "unforgotten dead;" of taking at least a look at Genoa 
 the Proud, and dallying for a time upon the glacis of gay 
 and laucrhino; Vienna ? 
 
 Ah, me ! the memory of such sights and scenes comes 
 upon me now, with the melancholy but not painful thought 
 that I shall see them no more. But it is not alone in 
 musing silence that pleasure is derived from such recol- 
 lections ; whenever a book is read or a discourse is heard 
 where countries are introduced over which one has trav- 
 eled, they seem nearer and more real than of old. Rome 
 and Greece, and that far land where salvation was first 
 revealed for the sons of men, used to seem to me as 
 Laputa or Atlantis — their existence and their story met 
 my acquiescence rather than my belief — they were but 
 shadows of the real. Now I can feel their substance and 
 their truth ; their ruins and their monuments have rescued 
 them from the land of dreams and imagination.
 
 Hon. Edwin II, Ewing. xiii 
 
 How much I regretted that you found it necessary to 
 turn your steps homeward, when we parted at Naples — you 
 to reside for a time in that "unililicus terrcc," iXiai Festu- 
 ground of nations, "Lutetia Parisiorum" — I to tempt the 
 sands of Egypt, and to track the Israelites in their wan- 
 derings. But you will yet Hve, I hope, to visit "the 
 Father of Waters," and to rest yourself under the brow 
 of " Old Sinai ;" to see the waste places of the City of 
 Jehovah, and to pitch your tent by "the river of Damas- 
 cus." And then again the world may hear from you with 
 renewed interest. Indeed /feel sometimes almost a desire 
 to write of these lands of miracle and romance — not for 
 the world's applause — not for its amusement, nor yet with 
 the presumptuous hope of affording it instruction, but as it 
 were, to renew my visit — to bring closer my recollections, 
 and to give vent to my dreamy meditations. On the top 
 of the Pyramids ; in the shadow of Memnon's Statue ; by 
 the Well of Samaria ; along the Valley of Jehoshaphat, and 
 at the Pool of Bethesda, I had my dreams. When I 
 looked from Hebron toward "the Sea of Death," and saw 
 forever ascending a smoke like the breath of a furnace ; 
 when I bathed in the " Sea of Galilee," and looked across 
 at the mountains of Gilead ; when I stood upon Mount 
 Tabor, and viewed a-back the wide plain of Esdraelon, 
 there came up the mighty shadows of the past — Abraham 
 and the cities of the plain — the Son of Mary stilling the sud- 
 den storm — Saul breathing out his despairing soul upon the 
 mountains of Gilboa. In Greece, too, I seemed sometimes 
 to be with the spirits of the "mighty dead" — Agamemnon 
 with his host ; Xerxes with his crowded millions ; Sparta 
 with her iron sons; Athens with ils brilliant heroes — all
 
 xiv Introductory Letter, etc. 
 
 lived again and passed in review before me. But I find 
 that I am ratlier telling you my story tlian writing to you 
 about your own ; and indeed I have, perhaps, said as much 
 about each as propriety may demand. One remark more, 
 however, I will make. I observe in your Letters that 
 which some may regard as a defect, but which is with me 
 rather matter of commendation. I mean the omission of 
 anything like extended commentary upon the social or 
 governmental relations of the people among whom you 
 traveled. I regard it as but a piece of shallow presump- 
 tion, on the part of any one who passes rapidly from point 
 to point in a country, to undertake to give views of govern- 
 ment and society, that should be the result only of long 
 residence and intimate means of knowledge. Facts may 
 be given, but deductions from them, as to the happiness 
 or misery of a people — as to their capacity for self-govern- 
 ment ; as to their practical oppression and their means of 
 relief — require a larger view and more reflection than can 
 be given by a mere traveler. 
 
 But enough. I am sure that you deserve success ; and 
 if public applause should be commensurate with my 
 respect and friendship for you, yourself would be satisfied 
 that it had been accorded to you in full and even over- 
 flowing: measure. 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 EDWIN 11. EWING. 
 
 o
 
 MEMORIES 
 
 OVER THE WATER. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 It is proposed in the following sketches — not to 
 indulge in any learned disquisitions on the laws, 
 manners, or customs of the various nations through 
 which we will conduct our readers — not to discourse 
 of matters, whose investigation probably would 
 most become the historian or the philosopher — nor 
 yet to weary the attention by the enumeration of 
 trite and uninteresting facts, familiar to every one, 
 whose vocation or whose pleasure has led him to 
 cross over " the big waters" and look on foreign 
 lands. But we would simply turn once more upon 
 our track, ere the lapse of time has dimmed the 
 remembrance of our travels, and recall some of the 
 pleasant memories, that gather round the recollec- 
 tion of the rover. We claim for these Sketches no 
 literary merit, but would relate in a social, fireside 
 manner some of the incidents that enlivened our 
 long ramble over foreign shores. And here wo 
 
 would say, that if it should seem to any that our 
 
 (23)
 
 24 Memories over the "Water. 
 
 random productions smack too much of the personal, 
 our simple apology is that the general groundwork 
 of such articles has been so completely covered, that 
 to be at all original, one's observations must be 
 principally confined to his own personal experience. 
 Trusting then, in all confidence, to the indulgent 
 charity of our readers, we will to our wanderings. 
 
 It was on the memorable twenty-first of July, 
 1851, that we left our home, by morning moonlight, 
 for the far-distant shores of the Old World, still 
 sufiering under the ravages of a Southern fever, but 
 buoyant with hope and busy with reflections on the 
 chanixes which might occur in the circle of home 
 and friends ere our return. The passion of our 
 life was about to be gratified, the roving visions of 
 our early boyhood tried by veritable reality, and 
 the rattle of the stage-coach was as music in our ears. 
 
 It is needless to relate how from the " home of 
 our boyhood " the stage-coach bore us to the banks 
 of the Ohio ; how from the fair city of Louisville 
 we went gliding up the Ohio, whose lovely waters 
 have so richly merited and received the appellation 
 of " La Belle Eiviere ;" how from the " Queen City 
 of the West " we took the cars for Cleveland, and 
 went bounding away through the "Buckeye State" 
 — the land of "bread and cheese" — a flat and 
 monotonous route, utterly void of any interesting 
 scenery. But rapidly trees, houses and farms flit 
 by us, and ere the sun had sunk behind the western
 
 Memoeies over the Water, 25 
 
 hills, we were safely deposited in Cleveland city. 
 Making a resolute push through the vociferous army 
 of hackmen and porters that dogged our steps, we 
 marched immediately aboard the splendid steamer 
 that was then in waiting for our train, and soon we 
 were dancing over the blue bosom of Lake Erie. 
 On our right sat queenly Cleveland, looking out 
 upon the broad waters, while the white sails of 
 many vessels on our left, glimmered in the golden 
 rays of the west-going sun as he slowly dipped to 
 the distant wave. — 'Tvvas forsooth a scene for paint- 
 er's pencil or poet's verse as first we witnessed sun- 
 set on the waters. But night soon vails the land 
 and wave, while music, the song and the deck prom- 
 enade serve to wing the golden hours. 
 
 Early on the following morning, we landed at the 
 flourishing city of Buflalo, and at nine o'clock, 
 A. M., of the same morning, took the swift-footed 
 cars for the falls of Niagara, those wondrous waters 
 whose fame " hath gone forth into other lands," and 
 whose very name is the poetry of might, majesty 
 and beauty. Any attempt at description would be 
 but impotent and vain. Suffice it to say that we 
 had a merry romp over "Main Island" with several 
 fair ladies from the "city of rocks," among the num- 
 ber, Mrs. James Bankhcad, and Miss Jennie Wat- 
 son, whose witchincc smiles shed sunlifrht on the 
 scene, and lent the finishing touch to the beauty of 
 the whole ; that we ascended " Prospect Tower," 
 
 overlooking tlie chasm of the " Ilorse-Shoe," and 
 2
 
 26 Memokies ovek the Water. 
 
 looked down upon the roaring waters below ; that 
 we crossed over to the Canada side by the " Suspen- 
 sion Bridge," and from the dizzy height of this fairy 
 work, gazed down on the rushing river far beneath 
 us ; that we stood upon the giddy brink of " Table 
 Hock," and saw the snow-white rapids come racing 
 on, to plunge with the roar of thunder to the misty 
 caldron at our feet, while beauteous Iris spanned 
 the boiling chaos, hovering like some angel of mercy 
 over the region of the damned. 
 
 But our mission was still far in the distance ; so 
 bidding a reluctant adieu to the glories of Niagara, 
 we pursued our way toward the eastern limits of 
 our native land. Our iron steed is once more har- 
 nessed, his shrill snort heard, and tossing high his 
 dark mane of smoke, he dashes onward, passing 
 through as lovely a country as eye could wish to 
 rest upon. Well may the "Empire State" lift up 
 her head, proud of her flourishing cities, and their 
 teeming thousands, her noble rivers and her lovely 
 lakes, her goodly hills and her fertile valleys. We 
 viewed, with delighted eye, her many treasures, and 
 felt a proud satisfaction that it was our own land 
 we looked upon. One day sufficed to bring us from 
 Buffalo to Albany, whence we took the steamer 
 down the Hudson, wanting only the ornamental 
 villas and the crumbling, vine-clad castles of the Rhine, 
 to render it the most beautiful river in the world. 
 Reached New York in due time, and after devoting sev- 
 eral days to the city, we made preparation for sailing.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 It were hard to describe the contendino: emotions 
 that now swelled the heart, as we trod the deck of 
 a noble vessel, bound direct for foreign shores. The 
 moment was rapidly drawing on, when we should 
 bid adieu to the land of our birth, and have the face 
 of nature shut out from our view, until our eyes 
 should open on the olden world. The good ship 
 "Asia" was crowded with passengers, and a great 
 number had come to witness the departure of rela- 
 tives and friends, while many a thoughtful, anxious 
 face, and many a moistened eye, told how the flood- 
 gates of the heart were unlocked, and its deep 
 fountains stirred at the thought that they were part- 
 ing, and perhaps forever. But for us no eye was 
 dimmed, no loved voice trembled in the fond fare- 
 well ! for we were alone, without a friend, an 
 acquaintance, or one familiar face, with whom we 
 could claim an adieu. 
 
 Precisely at 12 o'clock, m., the last warning-bell 
 is rung, our cables slipped, and as the brave ship 
 moves out, her booming cannon shout a jiarting 
 salute to the shores of our native land. Again and 
 
 CD 
 
 jigain, as we glide on, her guns arc loaded, and as 
 
 (27)
 
 28 Memoeies over the Water. 
 
 the active sailor rams home the charge, again the 
 loud report reverberates along the coast, and echoes 
 over the bay. Eapidly we cleave the still, calm 
 water, while our officers, in their handsome uniforms 
 of blue, stand upon the gangways, and issue with 
 trumpet-voice their many orders, to which is readily 
 returned the hearty "aye, aye, sir!" Still swiftly 
 glides onward our mammoth ship, passing by Gover- 
 nor's island, the Battery, the Fort, Staten Island, and 
 other objects of interest, and erelong we are out upon 
 the mighty deep, with the dim shores of Long Island 
 trailing on our left, and the coast we had so lately 
 quitted growing more and more indistinct. The 
 shades of night came creeping on, the day-king had 
 sought his western couch, and as the last, faint out- 
 line of our native shores faded slowly away through 
 the increasing gloom, we gave over our lingering 
 gaze, and turning to our cabin sighed — 
 
 " My native land, good night !" 
 
 On the following morning we rose refreshed with 
 sleep, and though the vessel was rocking slightly, we 
 experienced no diflSculty in making our simple toilet, 
 nor felt as yet that wretched, deathly sensation, 
 usually denominated, sea-sickness. But we were not 
 destined to escape entirely the ills that the fresh 
 mariner is heir to ; so just conceive a woe-begone 
 youth, most dejectedly seated on a four-legged stool, 
 with his forlorn phiz buried in his hands, and whew ! 
 heaving like old Vesuvius, while a few old salts fill 
 up the background, making merry over pur misfor-
 
 Memories oveu the Water. 29 
 
 tunes, and you liave our daguerreotype. At any other 
 time we mig-ht have felt halt-way disposed to rise 
 from our seat, and throw our four-legged friend at the 
 heads of the graceless jesters, but now the awfully 
 collapsed state of the internal system bo completely 
 mastered every effort of the will, that verily had one 
 come up and pulled our nose, we could hardly have 
 recognized it as an insult. 
 
 But our spell was of brief duration, and erelong 
 we had learned to tread the rolling deck with buoyant 
 step and — steady stomach. — So now we began to 
 look about us to learn what manner of men we were 
 to be associated with during the voyage. We discov- 
 ered, from the jargon of many tongues and varied 
 language in the painting-decked saloon, that each and 
 every nation, of any consequence, claimed a represen- 
 tative among our passengers — the indefatigable Amer- 
 ican, the phlegmatic German, the morose Englishman, 
 the social Frenchman, the somber Spaniard, the 
 volatile Irishman, with a scattering of Cuban, Creole, 
 and African. 
 
 But what shall we say of our voyage, what others 
 have not said, and what mention shall we make of 
 the good ship " Asia " — English though she be, and 
 built of British Oak ? Every incident of a sea-voyage 
 has been made familiar, and a repetition would only 
 pall upon the car. Enough to say, then, that the 
 night succeeded to the day, and we successively saw 
 sunrise, sunset, and moonlight on the ocean. Sweep- 
 ing the broad horizon of water round, we have
 
 30 Memoriks oyer the "Water. 
 
 ■watched some distant ship, when its cloud-like sails 
 were first dimly traced in faint relief upon the sky, 
 but growing more and more distinct, until it loomed 
 boldly out over the heaving waters, and was again 
 gradually lost, as our lordly vessel, like some mon- 
 ster of the deep, held its onward course. — When 
 floundering on through dense and impenetrable fogs, 
 we have heard the faithful bell send forth its warninsr 
 voice upon the restless waves, and when suddenly 
 meeting with some other ship by night, we have seen 
 the brilliant sky-rocket shooting from our deck, 
 throwing a fitful glare upon the waste of waters, and 
 briefly revealing the outlines of the other vessel, 
 wafted on like some silent specter of the sea. We 
 have held converse with the " watch " by night, and 
 have lent a willing ear to the long yarns of the 
 veteran son of Neptune. We have heard the hoarse 
 " all's well " rise, in the stillness of night, from the 
 " bow-watch," while the cry was taken up and 
 repeated at the larboard, the starboard, and the wheel, 
 sending assurance of safety to the heart of the 
 anxious traveler. Gazing down by night upon the 
 phosphoric fire that glimmered round our rushing 
 ship, and looking back upon the long train of snow- 
 white foam that followed in her wake, intuitively we 
 have called her the comet of the waters. In fine we 
 have enjoyed all the beauties of a sea- voyage, while 
 youth lent a golden tinge to every incident, and ere 
 that chilling of the heart, by rough contact with the 
 world, had blunted the appetite for roniance.,
 
 Memories over the Water. 31 
 
 When within a few days' sail of our destination, an 
 incident occurred, which carried an electric excite- 
 ment throughout our ship. It was about the hour of 
 ten at night, and the passengers were all gathered in 
 the main saloon, some reading, some conversing, and 
 some engaged with cards and dice. Suddenly, we 
 were startled to our very feet, by the loud cry of 
 " Hard, hard a-port," borne with thrilling accent and 
 trumpet-tongue upon our ears, while the hurried 
 trampling of feet over-head, announced that some 
 danger was impending. An immediate rush was 
 made from the cabin to the deck, which, as we 
 reached, we descried just before us the clouded image 
 of a schooner. For a few moments the excitement 
 was intense, and — 
 
 " The boldest held his breath 
 For a time." 
 
 The deck was thronged, yet no one spoke. — All 
 eyes were directed toward the devoted schooner, and 
 all hearts hushed, as she floated on within a few feet 
 of our prow. In a moment the crash would come or 
 the danger pass. The moment rolled by, and the 
 schooner came gliding hard upon our larboard, so 
 close, indeed, that you might have tossed a biscuit on 
 her deck. Again we drew our breath, and the heart 
 resumed its pulsation, as the danger passed. But a 
 narrow escape did the schooner run ! for rushing with 
 immense impetus through the thick fog, we had sud- 
 denly come upon her, and only by promptly checking 
 steam, and bearing hard to the right, we had avoided
 
 32 Memokies over the "Water. 
 
 a collision. Ilad our mammoth ship, going at the 
 rate of twelve knots an hour, come in contact with 
 the ill-starred schooner, her doom had been scaled. 
 She would have gone down beneath our rushing prow, 
 and all her crew had sunk — "unknelled, uncoffined, 
 and unknown," to the blue depths below. We again 
 descended to our saloon, but so excited were the 
 minds of the passengers, that at the least unusual 
 noise, you might see their heads pop up as if scenting 
 some new danger, and ready at any moment to take 
 alarm ; for which, however, there was thenceforward 
 no occasion. 
 
 On the morning of the 10th we heard the grateful 
 cry of " Land ho !" We were standing on deck, and 
 though an Irish sailor was pointing out the Cape, we 
 could discover nothing. — But the son of Erin was not 
 mistaken. His practiced eye had caught the distant 
 peaks of his native coast, when w^e could discover 
 nothing but the Uuq sky above and the blue wave 
 beneath us. Soon the bold, bleak shores of the Emer- 
 ald Isle — land of the Shillelah and Shamrock — loomed 
 distinctly out. We fired a salute abreast of Holy- 
 head, that our approach might be announced, by 
 telegraph, at Liverpool and London, and thence mov- 
 ing on, we passed by " old Kilsale Point," where the 
 ill-fated Albion went down, and by "Derrynane 
 Abbey "—the castle of the famous agitator, Daniel 
 O'Connell, which, from the Channel, presented only 
 a flat, square appearance, without any architectural 
 pretensions. Stood on deck to have a view, of Liver-
 
 Memories over the Water. 33 
 
 pool as wo came in. The scene was at once lovely 
 and magnificent. The sea was as calm and placid as 
 Beauty's sleep, while the broad-flowing Mersey swept 
 gently down, dividing the two cities of Liverpool and 
 Birkenhead — the former ennobled by its splendid 
 docks, which are crowded with the vessels of every 
 nation whose flasr dances in the breath of ocean — the 
 latter beautified and adorned with quiet villas. At 
 last, with anchor cast, and custom-house examination 
 over, we took one of the numerous little tugs, that 
 were racing about in every direction, and soon our 
 foot had pressed a foreign soil, AVe stood in " mer- 
 rie old England " — the land of our forefathers — and, 
 for the first time, under " petticoat government." 
 3
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 Liverpool is a great place ! Sucli at least was our 
 conclusion after several clays' rambling among its 
 docks, cabs, tugs, beggars and police. The city 
 abounds in magnificent structures — splendid piles of 
 architecture — the most noted of which are the Custom- 
 House, the Exchange, St. George's Hall, and the 
 Sailor's Home. Several fine monuments also lend 
 an additional attraction to this great commercial 
 emporium — one erected to the memory of William 
 Huskisson, another to Lord Nelson, and one to George 
 the Third. The amount of shipping at this port is, 
 to one who will look into its numerous and extensive 
 docks, ail-but incredible. 
 
 Just before we landed, a friend who had visited 
 England before, said to us — " Now if you wish to see 
 a picture of English life, don't go to one of those 
 fashionable hotels, to which all Americans resort, 
 but come with me, and I will show you ' mine host 
 of the inn,' a true specimen of English life and 
 character." Nothing loth to adopt his suggestion, 
 we proceeded forthwith to Dale street, and made 
 ourselves comfortable at the sign of the " Saracen's 
 Head." Our hale and hearty landlord realized the 
 
 (34)
 
 Memouies over the Water. 35 
 
 very idea \vc had formed of an English innkeeper. lie 
 usually sat at the head of his table, his " fair, round 
 belly with fat capon lined," and his broad visage beam- 
 ing with good humor, as he carved with evident pride 
 and satisfaction the huge piece of roast-beef that uni- 
 versally graced the head of his board. An air of clean- 
 liness and comfort pervaded his entire house, which at 
 once gave it a pleasant and home-like appearance. 
 
 After nightfall, we determined on a solitary ramble 
 through the city, feeling no anxiety whatever, cither 
 as to losing our way, or meeting with any molestation, 
 BO long as an occasional policeman, in his close, blue 
 uniform, and short, stout baton greeted our sight, for 
 we were sure of his direction when at a loss, and of 
 his assistance when in a difficulty. So, starting out 
 down Dale street, we thence turned to the left, and 
 were soon sauntering under the deep and somber 
 shadows of the old Custom-IIouse — a huge, venerable 
 building, whose imposing appearance had first at- 
 tracted our attention on our way from the ship to the 
 hotel. We were lazily loitering along its dingy, time- 
 stained walls, when, in looking about us, we discov- 
 ered that our movements were watched by no other 
 than a "polls" himself, who seemed to regard us as a 
 suspicious character, and to that eflect kept pace with 
 our wanderings. Observing this, wo stopped under 
 the shadow of one of the huge columns that adorn 
 each extremity of the building, when he strolled care- 
 lessly up and accosted us with a civil — " Good eve- 
 ning, sir !" Well, thought we, would it not be a pretty
 
 3t) Memories over the Water. 
 
 story to reach home, that on tlio first night of our 
 arrival in Europe we were nabbed by a policeman. 
 But, conscious of our innocent purposes, we returned 
 the salutation, and entered into conversation with our 
 friend of the buttons. He was a ready, intelligent 
 fellow, and finding that we were an American, fresh 
 from the New World, he seemed to throw off all 
 suspicion and reserve, and conversed freely with us 
 about our countiy, and about the World's Fair, which 
 was then being held in London. It struck us as a 
 peculiar fact, that this man, though within eight 
 hours' ride of the Crystal Palace, had never visited 
 his country's capital ; that he had trodden for years 
 his constant round, without once having an oppor- 
 tunity of stirring from his post, and without one 
 dream of ever leaving, even for a three days' absence, 
 to view the wonders of the World's Fair. It was 
 gi-owing on toward " the small hours of night," when 
 we bade our chance acquaintance adieu, and repaired 
 to our hotel, when our flickering fancies soon floated 
 away into the land of dreams. 
 
 After spending several days in the city, we rose 
 one morning with the determination to set out that 
 day for London, and, in accordance with the resolve, 
 we shook hands with our kind old landlord, and 
 started off" for " Edge Hill Station ;" arrived at the 
 depot of the London and North-Western Eailroad, 
 and found the cars just on the eve of departure. One 
 of the porters seized our luggage, and broke off, 
 crying — " Look sharp," while we followed at a brisk
 
 Mkmoriks ovKit TiiK Watkk. 37 
 
 gallop close oil his heels, aflbrding consideraLlc 
 amusement to the rest of the passengers, who, snugly 
 cnseonsed in their seats, could aflbrd to laugh. 
 Reached the hindmost car just as the train was on 
 the move, when the obliging porter of the London and 
 North-Western Railroad pitched our baggage in, and 
 we tumbled in after it. Daylight fades behind us. 
 and darkness visible presses upon our eyelids, as we 
 rattle on through " Edge Hill Tunnel," with Liverpool 
 city overhead. Suddenly we again dash out into the 
 light of heaven, and speed merrily onward over the 
 proud soil of England. The landscape, owing to its 
 high state of cultivation, was the loveliest and richest 
 we had ever seen. The surface of the country was 
 beautifully diversified by countless village churches, 
 generally built in the pure Gothic style ; with haw- 
 thorn hedges, and model cottages, and grim iron fac- 
 tories, with dark volumes of smoke rolling from their 
 sky -piercing chimnies. 
 
 Eleven miles from London, we passed by the 
 celebrated school of Harrow, where Lord Byron's 
 "young idea was first taught to shoot." A rush of 
 associations came sweeping over our mind, as we 
 looked on that lovely hill-side. The day had been 
 dark throughout, and heavy clouds had curtained in 
 the sky. But lo ! as we passed this spot, sacred in 
 the early memories of many of England's gifted sons, 
 the day -king smiled for an instant through the craggy 
 clouds, sheddin<]c a flood of clorious sunlight on the 
 scene, and thm all was dark and gloom again. AVe 
 
 44' -^ '^3
 
 38 Memories over the AVater. 
 
 thought the incident typical of the life of the immor- 
 tal bard. 
 
 During our transit from Liverpool to London, some 
 Englishman in our car, finding that there were Amer- 
 icans aboard, broached the subject of slavery. Now 
 it so happened that there was in our company a 
 young Virginian, who in his heart believed that 
 slavery was not only no stigma on his country's 
 escutcheon, but was indeed a divine institution, or- 
 dained by Heaven itself, as a means of reclaiming 
 the benighted African from the lowest depths of igno- 
 rance and barbarism to the light of knowledge and 
 Christianity. So, as the unwary Englishman con- 
 demned, in no measured terms, the slaveholding por- 
 tion of our country, he found himself suddenly picked 
 up by the warm-blooded Southerner, and quite a 
 sharp controversy ensued. The debate grew warmer 
 still, yet neither would be convinced, until the Vir- 
 ginian, wheeling off, remarked, in his wrath to his 
 opponent, that he hadn't the brains to comprehend, 
 nor the candor to confess the truth, and he therefore 
 declined all further discussion with him. The dis- 
 concerted Englishman complied with this plain hint, 
 and the subject was dropped. 
 
 But away we went racing on, and reached London 
 in the midst of a severe hailstorm, and that too in 
 the month of August. It soon passed away, how- 
 ever, and we proceeded to the "Euston Hotel," situ- 
 ated hard by the railroad depot, and we were safely 
 landed in London city.
 
 Memories over the Water. 39 
 
 From our l)ricf experience, wc judged the English 
 rail to be superior to the American. The speed, hy 
 exjpress^ is greater, hut the cars, excepting the first 
 class, are very inferior, both in point of comfort and 
 appearance. 13ut strength and utility are legibly im- 
 pressed on everything English. The English ladies 
 we found certainly neither so pretty nor so elegant as 
 our own — in point of classic beauty and delicate grace 
 no comparison can be made. The English lady is, 
 generally speaking, well-formed, hearty, robust. But 
 wo are not disposed to admire woman, when she 
 seems so perfectly capable of self-protection ; perhaps 
 we may admire, but to love is out of the question. 
 "We seem to feel that she can battle her own way 
 through life, and that idea at once breaks down one 
 of the strongest inducements for man to love. But 
 we would not that the Duchess of Sutherland, nor 
 any other of Albion's fair dames, should consider us 
 censorious, or disposed to meddle with matters which 
 concern us not; for, indeed, we found much where- 
 with to be pleased in "our cousins over the water." 
 We have found their women well-favored, but not 
 pretty ; intelligent, but not captivating — their men 
 reserved, but not uncourteous ; severe, but not un- 
 generous.
 
 CHAPTER IV, 
 
 Having located ourself in comfortable quarters at 
 No. 44, St. James' Place, we began to open our eyes 
 on the countless objects of interest to be found in the 
 great city of London. Our situation was admirably 
 adapted both for the instruction and amusement of the 
 stranger, for within the reach of a pleasant walk were 
 Hyde and St. James' Park, Westminster Abbey, Buck- 
 ingham and St. James' Palace, the new House of 
 Lords, and many other buildings, whose names are 
 " as household words " to every reader of English his- 
 tory. "With a chosen companion — young Taylor, of 
 Tipton, Tennessee — we began a systematic survey of 
 the wealth of wonders about us. Our first desire was, 
 of course, to seek the Crystal Palace, and so we were 
 soon on our way, through the vast wilderness of houses, 
 to the grand international exhibition. A short ride 
 brought us to Hyde Park, and paying our admission 
 fee of one shilling at the door of the glittering build- 
 ing, we stood beneath the roof of that fairy palace, 
 amid the richest products of earth, and among the 
 rarest inventions of the human mind. Never can we 
 forget, and yet never can we describe the magnificent 
 scene that then broke wilderingly upon our vision, 
 f 40)
 
 Memories over the Water, 41 
 
 We had expected to encounter sights of gorgeous 
 splendor and magic beauty, but never did we con- 
 ceive of such a display as then met our wondering 
 gaze. Articles the richest, the rarest, the most beau- 
 tiful, the most curious, the most magnificent ! all 
 under the transparent roof of a most exquisite and 
 fairy structure — producing such an overpowering effect 
 that the mind, when rushing forth to grasp them in 
 its fold, would turn and seek again its silent recesses, 
 exhausted by the struggle. A few statistical facts 
 may serve to convey some slight idea of the vast di- 
 mensions of the palace and its myriad wonders. The 
 building, according to estimation, covered upward of 
 twenty acres of ground. Its length was eighteen 
 hundred and fifty-one feet — a foot to represent each 
 year from the commencement of the christian era 
 down to the time of its erection. The entire length 
 of the tables, all combined, was estimated at eight 
 miles — quite a pedestrian journey to one, who would 
 iimcisehj undertake to see, at one visit, their comple- 
 ment of contents. 
 
 We first made a circuit round the entire building on 
 the ground-floor, and then ascending to the galleries 
 above rapidly scanned their arrangement, in order to 
 get, at first, a general view of the whole, and so under- 
 stand the plan of the building, that in our succeeding 
 visits we might pursue a systematic course of inspec- 
 tion. The contributions from the various nations 
 represented were ranged in their respective apart- 
 ments, with the name of the country from which they
 
 42 Memoeies oyer the Water. 
 
 came printed on a red banner above. One end of the 
 building was allotted to the American representations, 
 while pretty much the whole space of the opposite 
 extremity was appropriated to, and filled with, the 
 tributes of Great Britain; the intermediate ground 
 being methodically divided off and distributed to the 
 various other nations. "We will not detail the minutiae 
 of their contributions, for that were ail-but as endless 
 an effort as the task of Sisyphus. Enough to say that 
 during our peregrination through that wondrous struc- 
 ture we looked on "the Mount of Light" and other 
 costly gems ; on beautiful and sparkling fountains ; on 
 glittering and gorgeous furniture ; on luxurious and 
 splendid coaches ; on rich and dazzling chandeliers ; on 
 hu2:e and maOTificent mirrors ; on fountains of cologne- 
 water ; on antique curiosities ; on ancient mosaics ; on 
 curiously- wrought representations of anatomy; on ex- 
 quisite statuary and most finished sculpture ; on soft 
 and blushing paintings ; on softest fabrics of silk and 
 cotton ; on rarest machinery ; on implements of peace 
 and war ; on purple and gold ; on beauty and utility, 
 and in fine on the best specimens of all imaginable 
 invention. One glance at that goodly array from 
 under the folds of the American flag, down to where 
 the banner of St. George drooped above the wealth of 
 the Encrlish nation, were well worth a flight across the 
 deep waters. The scene was one of the most animated, 
 gorgeous and imposing that the imagination can pic- 
 ture, or the fancy conceive ; rendered lovely, too, by 
 the thought that we here behold a peaceful , union of
 
 Memories otek the "Wateu. 43 
 
 all nations, who had " heat their swords into plow- 
 shares, and tlicir si)earri into pruning-hooks," all 
 min^linir in social concord, with no strife or conten- 
 tion among them, save to excel in the great and the 
 good. All was order, good-will uial harmony. 'Twas 
 a scene on which poet, philosopher and philanthropist 
 might dwell with delight. The only regretful feeling 
 which came creeping over our heart was, that our own 
 glorious land, though many the honors awarded her, 
 was so inadequately and so unfairly represented. 
 
 Toward the close of the day, according to previous 
 agreement, we met friend Taylor in the transept of the 
 buildinfr, l>v the beautiful central fountain, whose 
 sparkling waters sent a delightfully cool and refresh- 
 ing influence through the densely-crowded palace. 
 Near by were the exquisitely beautiful porti-aits of his 
 royal highness Prince Albert and her majesty the 
 Queen. While attentively considering the latter we 
 observed to our friend, that if report had not much 
 slandered the royal lady, the portrait before us was 
 most highly flattering, for that rumor had said that 
 dame nature had not been very prodigal in her gifts 
 to Queen Vic. 
 
 The words were scarcely out when a burly Briton 
 close by retorted, that we were laboring under a great 
 mistake, and assured us that the portrait was not flat- 
 tering but only a correct likeness. Now, though we 
 knew that this was only a gratuitous ebullition of 
 loyal feeling, yet from the innate gallantry of our own 
 nature wo could not dispute the fact, but silently
 
 44 Memories oyer the "Water. 
 
 acknowledged the enlightenment. Indeed, before we 
 had left the sliores of England, we concluded that the 
 English people, to this good day, were as loval, from 
 lord to lackey, as in the days of old, when mail-clad 
 forms were couched, with lance in rest, if but one 
 breath of calumny should assail the heaven-anointed 
 monarch. Tlie English are still devoted to their 
 Queen, not so much by personal love and attachment, 
 but as the embodiment of a principle to which they 
 are wedded. 
 
 About 4 o'clock, p. m., we left the Crystal Palace, 
 and strolled out upon the green-sward of Hyde Park, 
 along the bank of the Serpentine, a small winding 
 lake, but more like a river, that meanders through this 
 handsome space of field and forest. Pedestrians with 
 their sagacious dogs, male and female equestrians on 
 their handsome horses, and elegant equipages, con- 
 taining the fashionable and noble, were to be seen in 
 all directions. History and fiction have alike ren- 
 dered Hyde Park a subject of interest to everybody, 
 but especially to the young and imaginative mind. 
 As we roved over the soft turf, and rambled through 
 its quiet retreats, we thought how many a tale of love 
 had been told beneath those wide-spreaking oaks — ■ 
 how many a heart had thrilled with sweetest joy, and 
 alas I how many, too, had been deceived. How 
 many an unknown story of love, of treachery and 
 broken hearts, had those ancient trees been the silent 
 witness — an unrecorded drama in the history of each 
 sullcring spirit. Earth was pillowed upon the bosom
 
 Memories over the Water. 45 
 
 of nij^ht — toil had rocked licr softly to rest — silence 
 hung like a heavy mantle over her slumbers, -while 
 the starry firmament above, flung out like some broad 
 banner from the battlements of heaven, curtained in 
 her couch, Naught else heard or spoke, save the 
 "wind, as it wooed the dim old woods, and the rustlincr 
 leaves as they whispered the tale about. 
 
 But away with musing — for just now a " still, 
 small voice " was whispering that we had passed the 
 day — without our dinner. Being thus admonished, 
 we were oflf in a trice for this indispensable item of 
 life, and while cozily seated at our table, our reflec- 
 tions were something in this wise — " Well, London is, 
 upon the whole, quite a pleasant place — provided your 
 shillings arc abundant, but if you have not a super- 
 fluity of cash, why then you have no business in this 
 vast metropolis. Money is here a friend on whom 
 you may safely rely, while you have him in posses- 
 sion, but one who ''loill leave and forsake you ' at 
 every turn." 
 
 Just here we were about to give an order, but 
 involuntarily hesitated, when, on looldng up, wc dis- 
 covered, instead of Sir Ebony, a gentleman "in 
 cloth," with white vest and white cravat, meekly 
 awaiting our commands. — But our democratic scru- 
 ples soon vanished before the returning thought that 
 we were still master so long as the potent shilling 
 rested in our x^urse, and so suflered the elegant waiter 
 to obey our behest, without discountenance, and in 
 his own subservient wav.
 
 46 Memories over tuv: Water. 
 
 Having dined, our next f[ucry was '• in what, man- 
 ner should we spend the evening ?" Taylor was 
 fatigued, and positively swore he would not stir fortli 
 that night ; so, per necessity, we must go it alone. 
 Sallying out under the blazing glare of the gas-light, 
 we strolled up the Strand, and turned in at the 
 Lyceum, wdiere "Only a Clod," "Court Beauties," 
 and "King Charming " were performed. "We were 
 much pleased with the evening's entertainment — the 
 scenic effect in the last play being superior to anything 
 of the kind w^e had yet witnessed. To add to the 
 attractions of the bill, twenty-four young girls, charm- 
 ingly dressed in light floating gauze, appeared in the 
 ballet, with eight banners in their hands, represent- 
 ing eight several nations, under which they succes- 
 sively danced the national dance of each country 
 represented. Among the flags shone conspicuous 
 " the stars and stripes." " Yankee Doodle " w-as the 
 air, and something which we supposed the "pigeon- 
 wins " was the dance attributed to America. 
 
 How it causes the heart of the stranger to swell 
 with untold emotions, to hear the national air of his 
 own dear land, while w^andering over foreign shores, 
 especially, too, w^ith the well-loved banner of his 
 country before his eyes. One thus situated can never 
 have those feelings erased from his memory, though 
 the snows of many winters may whiten his brow, and 
 the tide of many years sti-ive to pour forgetfulness 
 over the scenes of his early youth. And we would 
 ask no stronger current of cherished memories to
 
 Memories oveu tiii: Watek. 47 
 
 come sweeping over the bending heart, than to hear, 
 as we have heard, the sweet notes of some favorite 
 song, oft heard from beauty's lips at home, suddenly 
 to greet the ear, where many a weary mile, and many 
 a restless billow, intervene between the pilgrim and 
 the home of his fathers. It chains the very spirit 
 into stillest mood, and wakes the "key-note of the 
 saddest dirge that fancy ever played to melancholy."
 
 CHAPTER V, 
 
 A STROLL through St. James' Park serves as an 
 excellent antidote to the " noise and confusion of the 
 Strand. Buckingham Palace, the Queen's city resi- 
 dence, fronts down the Park, and is quite a royal 
 building. Standing in front of the Palace, and look- 
 ing down the Park, you see the lofty towers of West- 
 minster peeping over the tree-tops to the left, while 
 just to the right of the Abbey, rises the unfinished 
 tower of the new House of Lords. St. James' 
 Palace, where the Queen holds her Court, lies over to 
 the right, fronting up St. James-street, at the foot of 
 Pall Mall, and presents a queer old face to your view, 
 with its time-stained walls and peaked towers. Just 
 outside the high iron fence, that fronts Buckingham 
 Place, promenade the stiff English sentinels, in their 
 blood-red coats, snow-white pants, and high conical 
 fur hats. Lolling about over the soft sward, may be 
 seen the city-bred Londoners, rolling over the green 
 grass, as if the very contact did their souls good. 
 Swans and ducks paddle unmolested about in the 
 Park lake, and seem well content with their pen- 
 sion . 
 
 ( 48.^
 
 Memories oveii the Watek. 49 
 
 Starting out early ono morning — friend Taylor and 
 ourself — we took an outside berth aboard a " bussy " 
 on Piccadilly, and went lumbering toward St. Taul's 
 Cathedral. Passing through Trafalgar Square, under 
 the shadow of Lord Nelson's colossal monument, we 
 wended our way np Fleet-street and the Strand. 
 Occasionally a pair of horses would have their feet 
 tripped from under them on the slippery pavement, 
 which would for a moment block np the street, and 
 impede our progi-ess. — Immediately, however, on such 
 an occurrence, you might see half-a-dozen active 
 policemen, diving about among the innumerable vehi- 
 cles, checking some, and urging on others, until all 
 were again fairly "under- weigh." How implicitly 
 everything obeys the beck of a policeman's wand ! 
 To dispute his authority were a piece of presumption 
 passing all belief. 
 
 But speaking of " busses," we cannot forbear 
 mentioning a mishap which befell an Irish acquain- 
 tance in the streets of London. He was an aged 
 man, but an excellent specimen of the rollicking Irish 
 character. Having occasion to go some distance, he 
 concluded, in order to have a fair view of his route 
 through the city, that he would mount to the roof of 
 the omnibus, which was rather a precarious experi- 
 ment for his tottering limbs. He, however, reached 
 the top in safety, but no sooner was the heavy coach 
 under full headway, than he began to tremble for the 
 security of his position. At every crossing, the huge 
 
 omnibus would rear up and down like a vessel on the 
 4
 
 50 Memories oyer the Water. 
 
 waves, aud as often would the son of Erin seize his 
 nearest neighbor for support. At last, up suddenly 
 bounced the " bussy," and away glided our friend 
 over the side. On his way he grabbed, with the 
 grip of a vice, the fat leg of an Englishman, who, in 
 turn, clung to his next companion, at the same time 
 roaring " Murder !" at the top of his voice. But our 
 Irish friend had not the time just then to bandy civili- 
 ties, or beg pardon for his rudeness ; but picking out 
 as soft a place as he could find, he fell sprawling on 
 his back, into the very center of a lake of mud, spat- 
 tering a perfect deluge of mire on every side. Recov- 
 ering his feet, he escaped the imminent danger of 
 being run over, but presenting an appearance over- 
 whelmingly ludicrous. A crowd began at once to 
 gather around him, but giving one despairing glance 
 at his bedaubed attire, he rushed into the nearest 
 empty omnibus, and dived down into its farthest cor- 
 ner. Peace to your memory, friend ]\Iac ! for many 
 a joke have we heard you crack over that day's 
 adventure, until we verily thought our sides would 
 split. 
 
 But we were on our way to St. Paul's. — Keaching 
 this venerable monument of the past, we took tickets 
 for the whole building ; for, be it known, that in this 
 great city, churches, like theaters, must be seen by 
 the purchase of your permission. Leaving the ground- 
 floor of the imposing edifice, witli its countless marble 
 monuments, we commenced our journey upward, 
 under the guidance of one of tlio church -pilots.
 
 Mkmokies ovKii TiiK "Waticu. 51 
 
 Among the curiosities which are shown the stranger, 
 we saw the library-room, with its curious, nailless 
 floor of tesselatcd oak, musty volumes, and antique 
 sacred music ; the geometrical staircase — the first of 
 the kind ever constructed iu England ; the trophy- 
 room of Lord Nelson, wherein are many colors taken 
 li'om the enemy, also a huge lantern that figured in 
 the burial of the heroic naval commander ; the Whis- 
 pering gallery ; the great Bell ; and then the outside 
 " golden gallery," whence is to be had the finest view 
 that can be obtained of London. But now, to " cap 
 the climax," we left our hat below, and commenced 
 the arduous task of climbing up into " the ball." By 
 dint of hard work, we finally succeeded, and enjoyed 
 the commendable ambition of being squatted in a 
 small iron cage at the highest elevation in London 
 city, but putting like a porpoise, and feeling an 
 instinctive dread lest our lofty lodge should topple 
 over, and we roll headlong to the earth.— But our 
 purpose being accomplished, we descended to the 
 ground, well willing to stand once more on "terra 
 firma." 
 
 We now engaged a " cabby," and passing through 
 the celebrated London Docks, we rattled away for tiic 
 Tunnel of the Thames. — Paid a penny each to enter, 
 and descended by a winding staircase, ornamented 
 with fresco paintings, to the floor of the Tunnel. 
 Eeaching the bottom, we \\\'\v. induced, by the elo- 
 quence of the doorkeeper, to enter a small apartment, 
 fitted u]-> with microscopic glasses, througli wliioli we
 
 52 Memories ovek the Water. 
 
 looked, and saw many well-wronght battle-scenes, 
 dazzling bright under the light of the lamps, and 
 wrapped in the lurid glare of the battle-shock. 
 Thence we strolled on through the Tunnel, brilliantly 
 ' illuminated with gas, and decorated with the stalls of 
 toy-venders. The Tunnel is 1,200 feet long, and 
 presents a very picturesque appearance, with its 
 lights, and stalls, and throngs of pedestrians. Its 
 original design was for the passage of vehicles, which, 
 however, was defeated by the enormous expense that 
 would have been incun-ed by the purchase of suffi- 
 cient ground at each end to admit of a gradual 
 descent into the Tunnel. 
 
 As we strolled along, with the muddy Thames 
 rolling overhead, we were accosted by a merry naiad, 
 who desired us to purchase some little mementoes of 
 the Tunnel "for our friends in America." "And 
 how know you we are an American ?" returned we in 
 surprise. " Ah ! sir, that is easily discovered," quoth 
 the fair water-nymph. Of course, we complied with 
 her request to select some one of her toys, and the 
 more willingly, that we might linger near this 
 divinity of the Thames, for she possessed that pass- 
 port to the heart of man — a w^inning manner, with a 
 fair face, and an eye of blue that would rival the hue 
 of heaven's deepest arch. We left the fair daughter 
 of the Thames, but with the mental reservation, that 
 our first should not be our last visit to the Tunnel.
 
 CHAPTEPt VI. 
 
 Leaving the Tuimcl, wc now started for the Tower, 
 witli about a dozen ra^-o-ed urchins swarmino; round 
 our cab, and craving a penny. One little fellow, 
 emaciated and lame, hobbled on after us, with his 
 thin and beseeching countenance, until his persever- 
 ance was rewarded, when he returned rejoicing to his 
 companions, whether to divide with them the spoil or 
 hoard it for the relief of a destitute and suffering home- 
 circle we know not. 
 
 A short ride brought us to the far-famed " Tower 
 of London," around whose name history has woven a 
 spell more wild and fanciful than the weird wand of 
 bewitching romance ever threw over the enthralled 
 mind of the schoolboy. For here the gentle and the 
 bravo have alike been debarred the sweet breath of 
 heaven, lingering in long confinement, until even the 
 voice of hope had ceased to whisper one cheering 
 word, dving darklv out from the sick heart, and 
 fleeing like some pale specter from the temple, where 
 it had long sat the solitary occupant. Here the fair 
 princes of Edward were murdered in their guileless 
 childhood, innocent victims to the bloody ambition of 
 their uncle Gloster. Here the sweet Lady Jane Gray, 
 
 (53)
 
 5-1 Memokies over the Water. 
 
 persuaded contrary to her own inclinations to accept 
 lier crown, which pressed as a burning brand upon 
 her fair brow, was locked in dungeon dank and dark, 
 and greeted the smile of day only to pass — a gentle 
 sufferer, a patient martyr, and a true heroine — to an 
 ignominious death. Here the brave Sir Walter ling- 
 ered for twelve long years wdthin his prison-cell, 
 where stygian darkness dwells, and where the foul 
 spider wove his web, mocking in its calm content the 
 wild and feverish throbbings of that high-born heart, 
 accustomed to the stirring excitement of love, ambi- 
 tion, and brave deeds, but now wasting under the 
 consuming fires of slow and lingering confinement. 
 We entered the dark recess, and as we groped our 
 way through his dismal cell, we thought what ages of 
 duration must have been crowded in those twelve 
 years, as they dragged on their weary length, each 
 hour a year, each year a century in itself. On the 
 door of his dungeon we found the Scriptural inscrip- 
 tion — " He that eudureth to the end shall be saved." 
 In the chapel of " St. Peter in Yinculis" lie the head- 
 less bodies of Fisher, Ann Boleyn, Thomas Cromwell, 
 Catharine Iloward, the Duke of Somerset, and the 
 Duke of Monmouth. 
 
 On entering the gates of the Tower the stranger 
 first procures his tickets, and then takes his seat in a 
 small anteroom, awaiting the arrival of other visitors, 
 until a full compliment is made up. This is done for 
 the economy of time, for there is ever a constant 
 throng pouring in, and it would be impossible to
 
 Memories over the Water. 55 
 
 show each visitor tlirough separately. Our company 
 was soon made up, and we were marshaled ofi" by one 
 of the numerous guides in gay and gaudy livery, 
 through the various apartments. "Wc first entered 
 the " Horse Armory." Ilerc the collection of eques- 
 trian knights is certainly extensive and interesting to 
 the curious. The most striking are the eflSgies of the 
 Kings of England, mounted on their steeds of war, 
 and clad "cap-a-pie" in their burnished armor. The 
 line commences with "William the Conqueror and 
 extends to George the Second. But a feeling of dis- 
 appointment came over us as wc looked along the 
 glittering line. We had thought, as we stepped 
 before those mail-clad forms, to have the embodiments 
 of the past before our eyes — to feel ourself carried far 
 away into the dim shadows of the days of yore, and 
 feel a solemn assurance that we were treading the 
 courts of antiquity, mingling by easy fancy amid 
 scenes softened by the touch of romance and hallowed 
 by the dust of far-distant ages — but no such sensation 
 could we realize ; all seemed modern and new ; the 
 very armor was all burnished and bright. The voluble 
 guide within, the rumbling of the heavy cartwheels 
 without, the ringing of the mason's hammer en^asred 
 in repairing the building, all broke the spell, and told 
 that we were still in the active present, where all 
 were battling, not for the honor of chivalry or the light 
 of lady's eye, but for the potent dollar or the magic 
 shilling. We stood before the grim iron forms of
 
 66 Memories oyer the "Water. 
 
 England's kings, but felt not the august presence of 
 Albion's majesty, unable to doff our hat before the 
 royal brow, or to bend reverently before the shrine of 
 the past. After passing through the several armo- 
 ries — replete with arms, foreign trophies, and historical 
 curiosities — we were finally conducted to the jewel 
 office, where for safe-keeping the crown jewels are 
 deposited. The whole regalia presented a most daz- 
 zling and magnificent appearance, with its scepters, 
 crowns, crosses, swords and spurs, all studded with 
 diamonds enough to make the eye of woman dance 
 with delight, or the fingers of the miser ache to 
 clutch. The entire collection is valued at fifteen mil- 
 lion dollars, and the crown of the present Queen at 
 five millions of dollars. With a look at the " Bloody 
 Tower," and the "Traitor's Gate" our visit was 
 concluded. 
 
 On the following morning we started out, afoot and 
 alone, bending our way toward Westminster Abbey, 
 where sleep Albion's noble dead. We were soon 
 within its sacred precincts, loitering in "the dim reli- 
 gious light" of this time-honored Abbey, and looking 
 over the many monuments erected to heroes, naval 
 and military ; celebrities, civil and ecclesiastic ; poets 
 and orators. Lord Byron has been denied a resting- 
 place in "the poet's corner," which, however, can 
 never be complete without him. And yet tliey have 
 placed there monumental marble to the memory of 
 the profligates Sheridan, Tope, and others of equally
 
 Memories over the Water. 57 
 
 culpable character. " O rare Ben Johnson" meets 
 your eye to the left as you enter, while the immortal 
 Shakspeare stands immediately on your right. 
 
 After looking over the more plebeian monuments, 
 we dropped our admission fee into the "itching palm" 
 of the holy sexton, and commenced a survey of the 
 series of chapels, wherein repose the relics of the 
 kings and queens of England. Among the most con- 
 spicuous monuments are the tombs of Mary queen of 
 Scots, Queen Elizabeth, and the shrine of Edward 
 the Confessor. As we looked on those cold marble 
 figures, in the attitude of death, with hands meekly 
 folded over rude warrior and gentle woman, we could 
 but think how empty and how vain the emoluments 
 of this life. Those moldering ashes of royalty lie 
 as unconscious of their honored resting-place as those 
 of the veriest beggar of their rude neglect. And 
 then we thought that we would not have our body to 
 rest in the dark and chilly gloom of the cathedral, but 
 rather in some sweet and quiet spot, out in the open 
 fields and under the smile of the blue skies, where no 
 cold and heavy marble should weigh upon our breast, 
 but the sod grow green, the summer winds blow, and 
 the wild flowers bloom upon our simple grave. 
 
 Leaving the elaborate architecture of Westminster, 
 we passed on up to Charing-Cross, passing the new 
 House of Lords, which, when completed, will bo a 
 most splendid building. Then took a cab and called 
 upon our millionaire minister at his residence on Pic- 
 cadilly, whom w^e found a venerable and courteous 
 "5
 
 68 Memories over the Water. 
 
 gentleman, kind and cordial in his manner toward all 
 bis countrymen. Went thence to the National Gallery, 
 situated on Trafalgar Square, and made a rapid sur- 
 vey of its paintings, some of which were from the 
 magic pencil of Raphael, Rubens, Rembrandt, Corre- 
 gio, Claude, Guido, Titian, Velasquez, and a host of 
 others of lesser note; made a tour of the several 
 rooms and took our departure, glad to escape the 
 crowd and the clouds of dust raised by the sweeping 
 dresses of the numerous ladies. Strolled thence up 
 Regent street, passing through Portland Place, round 
 Park Crescent and Park Square into Regent Square, 
 one of the loveliest spots in the neighborhood of Lon- 
 don, Our foot fairly joyed to press the green-sward, 
 as we rambled on, with buoyant spirit and elastic 
 step, under the cool shade of the wide-branching oaks. 
 Erelong the classic Holford House, nestling its white 
 front in the deep green woods, attracted our attention 
 and elicited our admiration. But onward still we 
 t^-amp, pay our shilling, and enter the Zoological 
 Gardens, where may be found "the beasts of the 
 field, the fowls of the air, and the fishes of the sea," 
 The grounds are beautifully laid out, and bloom 
 with every variety of shrub and flower. Left the 
 gardens and went out toward the left, when we came 
 in view of a bold, high hill, smooth as velvet, and 
 without a tree to break its outline on the sky, and 
 beyond which the blood-red, rayless sun was just 
 sinking. The hill-side was covered with men and 
 boys, engaged in the old English sports, with a dim
 
 Memokies over the Water. 69 
 
 and liazy atmosphere resting over the busy scene. 
 It seemed, as we stood and looked on the panorama 
 before us, that long ago, away in our early boyhood, 
 we had once dreamed of the very identical scene 
 spread before our eyes. Some picture from the dark 
 background of the past rises indistinctly up, and is 
 succeeded by a spectral host, as fond memory pours 
 forth in pale and shadowy train her trooping phan- 
 toms, yielding obedience to her fairy wand, like as 
 the fabled genii of old, called from their dark abodes 
 by the voice of the magician.
 
 CIIAPTEIl VII 
 
 London is an inexhaustible Held for the investiga- 
 tion of the cui'ious stranger, and we might dwell with- 
 out limit on its myriad wonders. We might tell of 
 the British Musem, and the Queen's Opera ; of the 
 Vernon gallery, and the Royal mews ; of the London 
 docks, and the beer vaults; of the fish market, and the 
 Burlington Arcade ; of Greenwich and Woolwich ; of 
 the old Bailey and Bow-street, of churches and theaters; 
 of the Strand by day, and of Regent street by gas 
 light, and in fine, of matters innumerable peculiar to 
 the city of London. But weary of the din and smoke 
 we sigh for the pure atmosphere of travel, and so we '11 
 plume our wings for sunny France. 
 
 About 3 o'clock a. m., we were roused by " Boots," 
 according to orders, who buckled on our trunks, gave 
 the last touch of his nimble brush to our wardrobe, 
 saw us seated in our cab, and receiving his farewell 
 bonus, wished us a long life and a happy journey, as 
 we dashed away from St. James' Place. We had 
 started for the special express train, by means of 
 which passengers from London reach Paris in eleven 
 hours. It was in the cold gray of the morning, the 
 streets were comparatively clear, and we rattled on at 
 a rapid pace over the well-paved road. ,We were 
 
 (CO)
 
 Memories over the Water. 61 
 
 rather behind our time, and bo ordered " cabhv " to 
 drive like Jehu. He did his duty, and so did his 
 trotter, but we reached the railway station just as the 
 snortinff iron steed had bounded from his stable. 
 Fo^s: and Brevard had also arrived a moment too late, 
 and so our misfortune was consolingly mutual. To 
 ffo back, WG were one and all resolved not to do, and 
 so concluded to take the 6 o'clock train down to 
 Brighton. The hour arrived and we were on the move, 
 rejoicing to escape the uproar of city, and no-wise loth 
 to fiee the impositions there practiced on the unwary. 
 A few hours' ride over green glades and through 
 chalky tunnels brought us to Brighton — that watering 
 place so famous in English novels. After breakfasting 
 in one of the numerous coffee-houses we strolled over 
 the city, which contains, it is said, in the fashion- 
 able season, a population of eighty thousand, while 
 the permanent citizens number only thirty thousand, 
 leaving a floating population of fifty thousand. An 
 amusing feature of this city is the great number of 
 miniature carriages, drawn by goats^ in harness ; a 
 convenience, we supposed, for gouty squires, and 
 superannuated dames. Saw the royal pavilion, one 
 of Victoria's numerous country seats, but which, we 
 were told, she had never occupied, though reserved 
 for her exclusive use. Many of the houses arc beau- 
 tifully stuccoed witii dark gravel, which, with their 
 verandas, present an appearance, at once elegant and 
 unique. Ascended Ilace Hill, just back of the city, 
 and from its bold, bald summit, had a fine view of
 
 62 Memories oyer the Water. 
 
 the city and its channel ; met here with a picture a 
 rural life in the olden time, viz: the shepherd boys 
 with their crooks and sasjacious dosrs, tendinef their 
 flocks in the open fields. At 6 o'clock p. m., we took 
 the cars for New Haven, a small port on the coast of 
 England, and at 11 o'clock at night we put out into 
 the boisterous English channel, on a small and filthy 
 steamer, bound for the port of Dieppe, on the coast of 
 France. A more disagreeable and nauseating night 
 we never passed, than on board that little "dug-out," 
 as it danced exultingly over the rough waters of the 
 Channel. The very memoiy of our internal agonies, 
 and external circumstances, causes us even now to 
 shudder. The night was dark as Erebus, and the 
 waters dashed madly against our frail vessel, as she 
 pushed out into the angry elements. Our steamer 
 was unprovided with berths, and so great was the 
 number of passengers on the occasion, that not even 
 a sofa or a chair could be paraded for the accommo- 
 dation of each one of us. We, however, crowded 
 down into the cabin, which soon became almost equal 
 to the " Black-hole of Calcutta;" so much so that we 
 could endure the close atmosphere and constant vol- 
 canic heavings for only a short while, and then sought 
 relief on deck, which, though cold and comfortless 
 was yet preferable to the foul confinement below. 
 With our overcoat about us we lay down on the 
 hard boards, while our wee bit of a craft was dancins: 
 like a feather tossed to and fro by the wind. In fact we 
 were just in that peculiar state of indifierence, which
 
 Memories over the "Water. 63 
 
 renders one perfectly insensible to all other sufferings, 
 and callous even to his own life. Before morning 
 dawned we stumbled once again down into the cabin, 
 and despite our own physical demolition, we could not 
 suppress a smile at the scene before us. Friend 
 Taylor, who possessed, in an eminent degree, that 
 faculty of ever being at home ; had managed, by some 
 art of Jious pocus^ to secure an entire sofa, and was 
 stretched out at full length, reveling in the luxuiy of 
 unbroken sleep, and hlissfully ignorant of all that 
 was transpiring about him. A few feet off were two 
 surly sons of England, who, not having even sufficient 
 room for a comfortable seat, described their sufferings 
 as perfectly "stunning," and swore heartily at the 
 prostrate form of our friend for a d — d lazy rascal, 
 because he seemed so entirely comfortable and recon- 
 ciled to the evils of the hour. He, though, slept hap- 
 pily on, without once knowing w^hat an object of 
 malice and envy he was to those about him. 
 
 But "finis omnibus est," and so at last the long 
 night wore away, and the morn broke, like an angel 
 visitant above our heads, and about 9 o'clock a. m., 
 we reached Dieppe. Our vessel was brought up into 
 her accustomed berth, and arrangements made for the 
 examination of passports and baggage. About thirty 
 yards from the shore sat the Custom-IIousc office, 
 on each side of which were attached ropes, reaching 
 down to the vessel's side, thus forming an inclosed 
 space into which the passengers were huddled like so 
 many pigs in a pen. From this temporary quaran-
 
 64 Memories ovek the Water, 
 
 tine we were passed one by one tlirongh the Ciistom- 
 House office — in at one door, and out at another, as 
 the passport and baggage of each passenger was suc- 
 cessively examined. Beside this office there were two 
 additional wings, appropriated for the examination of 
 the persons of the two sexes, whenever they might 
 present a suspicious appearance. Without knowing 
 whither we were going we found ourself suddenly 
 hustled into one of these apartments, when one of 
 the officials proceeded to place his hand on each one 
 of our pockets, in quest of contraband articles. His 
 search was, however, merely nominal, and of course, 
 fruitless, when he politely bowed us out at one door 
 and turned to perform the same kind office on another. 
 
 At last free from this tedious and farcical proceed- 
 ing, we got breakfast at " Morgan's Hotel," well 
 known by every stranger as the first in the city, and 
 at half-past eleven we took our seats in the cars bound 
 for the French capital. The French cars we found far 
 more comfortable than the English, and provided with 
 lamps, which, like those of Vesta, are kept continu- 
 ally burning, to lighten the gloom of the damp, dark 
 tunnels, which are so abundant on this road. 
 
 On reaching the fine old city of Rouen, celebrated 
 in history as the place where Joan of Arc was burned, 
 we changed cars, taking an omnibus through the city, 
 and passing immediately by its famous cathedral, to a 
 different station. In a few moments we were again 
 on the move, and at 6 o'clock p. m,, we were in Paris, 
 the great emporium of fashion, fully, fun, and frolic.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 Our firgt sojourn in the fair city of Paris was 
 limited to a single week, whose seven days seemed 
 but so many hours, so magically fleeting was their 
 flight. We reserve our memories of Paris until 
 our return, from wandering over the Continent, to 
 that queen of European capitals, when we were 
 initiated, during a winter's residence, into the mys- 
 tic circle of its mirth and merriment. We pause 
 only for a moment to have a glimpse at the out-door 
 life during the summer months ; for in that season the 
 Parisians proverbially live abroad. Indeed, we know 
 of no word in the French language, whose literal 
 meaning corresponds with our word — home. They 
 say " chez moi " — that is, " with me," and wherever 
 they are, that we must presume is home. 
 
 The " Chateau des Fleurs " is one of the numerous 
 
 pleasure-grounds of Paris, where the gay "cits" 
 
 assemble of an evening for dancing, and where the 
 
 foreign stranger invariably repairs, either to enjoy the 
 
 dance himself, or to witness some of the various 
 
 phases of Parisian life. "Without stopping to defend 
 
 the propriety of our purpose, we candidly confess that 
 
 ive went, both to participate in tlie former, and to 
 
 (G5)
 
 66 Memories oyer the Water. 
 
 observe the latter. Starting out from " Rue du Dau- 
 phin," we strolled through the " Tuilleries Gardens," 
 across the magnificent "Place de la Concorde," under 
 the shadow of the " Obelisk of Luxor," and up the 
 "Champs Elysees," toward the " Triumphal Arch." 
 About midway up the broad thoroughfare, we turn 
 into the left, and observe, over an arched gateway, the 
 -^ords — " Chateau des Fleurs," dancing in lambent 
 letters from the burning gas. Here admission is 
 charged for the gentlemen only, the ladies being per- 
 mitted to pass unchallenged. Passing through the 
 gateway, we thought we had suddenly stepped into 
 fairy land, so novel and so beauteous was the scene 
 before us. The gardens were beautifully laid off, and 
 brilliantly lighted. The air was redolent with the 
 perfume of flowers— the gentle zephyrs laden with 
 the strains of dulcet music, entrancing as ever flowed 
 from Memnon's fabled statue at set of sun, or woke 
 euphonious from Euterpe's fingers. In the center of 
 the gardens was erected a canopy, under which the 
 musicians sat, while before them the gay dancers 
 were floating through tlie mazy measures of the 
 waltz, treading as lightly to the music's rise and fall, 
 as elfin forms in their mystic revels. Unaccustomed 
 to such enticing scenes, we felt as though we stood 
 upon enchanted ground. The gay dancers, the strains 
 of alluring music, the festoons of light and flowers, 
 the fair daughters of France— all combined to win 
 away the senses, and produce the impression that wo 
 were transported to some other planet, perhaps ram-
 
 Memoeies over the Water. 07 
 
 bling through the regions of King Charming, or lost 
 in the reveries of dream-land. "What some of the 
 sober, anti-dancing brethren of our own good city 
 would say to the untrameled license of the " Chateau 
 dcs Fleurs," or "I3al Mobile," we surely wot not. 
 Yet with the French they are recognized as an inno- 
 cent recreation. No one is heard to cry out against 
 them ; no condemnation, no wish, that they should be 
 abolished. But we hope the day is yet distant, ere 
 such a state of morals shall -[.irevail in our own west- 
 ern land; for no lover of his country — no advocate 
 for "the pure, the noble and the good — could wish such 
 customs to receive the national sanction of his own 
 people. 
 
 On the 30th of August, about eleven o'clock, we 
 left the handsome railway station at Paris, en route 
 for the city of Geneva. Soon after, we passed by the 
 old palace of Fontainebleau, traversing a beautiful 
 section of country, whose lovely scenery was varied 
 by groups of peasantry, in their dangling white caps, 
 blue blouses and wooden shoes, forming, to the eye of 
 an American, a tableau at once novel and picturesque. 
 About dusk, passing through a long tunnel, we 
 dashed out into mountain scenery, some of which 
 was ti'uly grand — the dark clouds belting the rock- 
 ribbed sides of the towering hills, rolling and wreath- 
 ing like huge serpents around their lofty crests. But 
 night came on, shutting out the view, and about nine 
 O'clock we reached " Chalons-sur-Saone." Rested 
 here until morning, at the'TEotcl Chevrcuil," and
 
 68 Memories over the Water. 
 
 about ten o'clock, a. m., the next day, commenced our 
 journey, by post, for the shores of Lake Leman. 
 Our company consisted of eight persons — Mr. Kerr 
 Boyce, of South Carolina, with his son and daughter, 
 Mr. and Mrs. Rice, Fogg, Taylor, and ourself. We 
 therefore engaged two carriages, each capable of 
 containing four. All seated, baggage aboard, and 
 postillion mounted, when, cracking his whip with 
 professional gusto, away we rattled over the stone- 
 paved streets of Chalons, and soon were beyond the 
 farthest borders of the town. The vine-clad hills of 
 sunny France were out in all their summer beauty, 
 and Nature's bonny smile lent sweet contagion to our 
 hearts. Our spirits were in finest flow, and lad and 
 lassie received both merry bow and civil word as we 
 passed them in their daily labors. Some few looked 
 sour, and returned not the salutation, construing our 
 civilities, perhaps, as ill-timed pleasantry. But the 
 great majority either smiled or courtesied, and gener- 
 ally accompanied the same with some playful remark. 
 The incessant cracking of the whip of our merry pos- 
 tillion called the attention of the peasant from his 
 labor, and the cottagers to their windows, to stare at 
 what they thought some spry sprigs of English 
 nobility, who generally travel by post, not realizing 
 that they looked upon those whose proud title was 
 American Sovereign. 
 
 About sunset, we commenced our first ascent of 
 the Jura Mountains, and as lovely a view as ever 
 gladdened the captive fancy, while straying through
 
 Memories ovEii the Wateu. C9 
 
 the Buulight and shadows of dream-land, now greeted 
 our vision, as wo slowdy wended our way u[) the 
 winding mountain road. Below us lay a pretty vil- 
 lage, nestling its peaceful head in the valley at our 
 feet, and lo ! as we journey on foot up the mountain 
 side, the sweet tones of the vesper-bell tell the hour 
 of prayer in the village below. We stop, and, linger- 
 incr. list to the soft music of the sound, as it comes, 
 in sweet and mournful accents, floating up the 
 rugged heights. Its mellow cadence creeps caress- 
 ingly into each mountain crevice, and as the silver 
 waves of its broken melody reach the ear, they also 
 find their way into the still chambers of the heart, 
 and awake from its chords a sympathetic strain. 
 Many a lonely cross we encounter on the road-side, 
 generally commemorating some accident which had 
 befallen the traveler at that particular spot, and 
 pointing the wayfaring wanderer to life's final goal 
 — his home on high. On reaching the summit, we 
 found there, on our left, a modest little chapel, sur- 
 mounted, as usual, by the stone cross, and containing 
 within its glass doors an image of the Virgin Mary. 
 About nine o'clock, we reached the village of Clair- 
 vaux, and there remained until the next morning, 
 when we were again bright and early on our way. 
 The cool mountain breeze played upon our cheeks, 
 braced our limbs, and sent a light and buoyant feeling 
 through our bodies. The bonny Lizzie Boyce and the 
 lovely Mrs. Rice, enhanced each pleasure, and 
 smoothed every asperity of the journey, by the magic
 
 70 Memories over the Water. 
 
 of their winning ways and pretty faces. Our 
 postillion, too, was a merry lad, who cracked his 
 whip and blew his favorite horn, till echo answered 
 back, as our tough ponies jogged on over hill and dale, 
 and along the mountain side. At intervals of about 
 every ten miles, we would change horses, at the 
 *' poste-aux-chevaux." Occasionally, on our route, 
 the " gens d'arraes " would make their appearance, 
 and request the privilege of seeing our passports. 
 They were, however, invariably courteous and polite, 
 and performed their unpleasant duties with much 
 civility, grace, and good-will. 
 
 When about twelve miles from Geneva, we stopped 
 to change our weary horses, and while quietly dozing 
 in the "voiture," Miss B. tripped up to our carriage, 
 and wondered if we were too lazy to get out and look 
 at Mont Blanc. That final word acted like magic on 
 our stupid senses, and we sprang out at one bound, 
 when, without the least preparation, that " monarch 
 of mountains " burst, in all its glory, on our enrapr 
 tured sight. The broad, fair valley of Geneva, with 
 its lovely lake, lay quietly reposing at our feet, while 
 rising up, in majesty supreme, from the opposite side, 
 Mont Blanc towered up above the sky-kissing Alpine 
 range, with the golden rays of the west-going sun 
 gilding his snow-clad crest. — "Wood and water, vale 
 and mountain, lent their several charms, blending in 
 one harmonious whole, a picture of grandeur and 
 sublimity, which nor pen nor pencil could portray. 
 That beauteous, glorious scene is indelibly fixed — is
 
 Memokies over the Water. 71 
 
 written with a pen of iron on the tablets of our mem- 
 ory. Beneath its pure and elevating influence, we 
 instinctively bared our brow, as though before the 
 altar of the Most High, and breathed a silent tribute 
 of worship and of prayer to Ilim, who "holds the 
 earth in the hollow of his hand," and at whose com- 
 mand '^ the everlastino; hills bow down their heads." 
 AVe gazed long and silently on that scene of wondrous 
 beauty — the white crest of the mountain — the blue 
 wave of Leman — the green fringe of th'e valley — the 
 dark shade of the forest, and turned regretfully to the 
 impatient call of the postillion. Getting into our 
 carriages, we went rapidly down the tortuous road, 
 passed swiftly through the valley, and soon were 
 within the strong walls of Geneva.
 
 CIIAPTEH IX. 
 
 At Geneva we were much pleased to find our Tennes- 
 see friends, Bishop Otey, Mrs. Eakin, and Miss Marie 
 L. Bass. K tTiere is any one thing which to the sojour- 
 ner in foreign lands comes with grateful welcome, it 
 is the grasp of acquainted hands — the greeting of fa- 
 miliar faces — the glance of friendly eyes, which speak 
 at once of kindred sympathies and our distant homes. 
 The stranger, while treading the soil of his pilgrimage, 
 goes on his way unknowing and unknown. He reads 
 at every step that no one cares for him — his weal or 
 his woe, his health or his sickness, his ■ joys or his 
 sorrows are alike unheeded by those who throng about 
 him. An alien to their hearts and homes, we have 
 found that if at all observed, it is only that he may 
 become the victim of the swindler and the rogue. lie 
 is the fair and legitimate subject for indiscriminate 
 plunder, and often the unwary traveler, in his perse- 
 cution, might exclaim, in the letUr but not in the 
 spirit of scriptural gratitude — "I was a stranger, and 
 ye toolc me in.^^ 
 
 On our arrival at Geneva, we had gone immedi- 
 ately to the "Hotel des Bergues;" but finding that our 
 friends were just across the river at "Hotel L'Ecu" we 
 
 C72;
 
 Memories oveu tiik Watek. 73 
 
 went over forthwith to see them. Now it so happened 
 that while we were there some lady of the party, wish- 
 ing to purchase a shawl, had ordered several to be 
 sent up into the private parlor. Having selected one 
 out of the number, a certain young friend of ours, 
 taking a lancy to a second one, determined on its ac- 
 quisition to his own wardrobe, that he might wear it 
 (as is frequently the case with travelers in Switzer- 
 land) in the highland lashion, and thus be securely 
 protected against the cold, during his transit over the 
 mountain passes. But he had never learned the pe- 
 culiar "modus" of arranging it about his person; and 
 so while vainly essaying to acquire the art, a certain 
 fair lady kindly volunteered to assist him. But alas 
 for poor — "ZbricA-/" In winding the long plaid about 
 his form, the wicked lady, with mysterious art, did 
 likewise around his heart so weave the meshes of the 
 mischievous Boy-god, that from that same hour to this 
 good day he has been "a prisoner in bonds." Should 
 these wayward lines ly chance meet her eye, she, will 
 doubtless remember the incident, and must in fairness 
 acknowledge the justice of our accusation. We know 
 that without " malice aforethought" the mischief was 
 done, but yet the result was equally fatal. 
 
 The situation of Geneva is beautiful beyond descrip- 
 tion. Lying just at the foot of the lake of the same 
 name, it is divided into three nnequal parts by the 
 blue waters of the river llhone, and connected toge- 
 ther by various handsome bridges. On one side rise 
 the dark, wooded heights of Jura, and on the other
 
 74 Memories over the Water. 
 
 tower up in wild disorder the snow-clad rugged Alps, 
 as though here the fabled giants of antiquity had piled 
 "Ossa on Pelion" to scale the high battlements of 
 heaven. And then in beautiful contrast, beneath the 
 dark frown of the one and the stern solemnity of the 
 other, sleep the happy waters of Lcman, resting like 
 "the smile of the Great Spirit" in the valley below. 
 Indeed the eye which has once dranJc in the beauty 
 of that scene can never forget it: it will dwell as a holy 
 spell upon his heart haunting his memory like the 
 voice of some wild melody. 
 
 Among the objects worthy of notice in and about 
 the city are Calvin's tomb — without inscription or 
 monument ; the canopy in the old cathedral, from 
 under which the impetuous reformer promulgated his 
 bold doctrines ; the tomb of the licentious prelate 
 — Prince Louis de Rohan — who figured so conspicu- 
 ously with Madame Lamotte in "the affair of the 
 necklace;" the house in which Rousseau was born; 
 Ferney, where Voltaire lived ; and the glaciers of Cha- 
 mouny, situated a day's journey from Geneva. This 
 " aristocratico-democratic" city contains twenty-five- 
 thousand inhabitants, two-thousand eight-hundred of 
 whom are engaged in the manufacture of watches, and 
 make annually seventy thousand time-pieces. Here 
 too are manufactured with great skill mathematical 
 and surgical instruments, gold-lace, silks and porcelain. 
 
 Soon after our arrival in Geneva we made an ex- 
 cursion up the lake of Geneva, along its northern 
 margin, to the village of Coppet, to visit the Chateau
 
 Memokies ovee the Water. 75 
 
 of Mad. do Stael. On arriving at our destination wo 
 found the gateway guarded by a fierce dog of the St. 
 Bernard breed, who seemed little disposed to greet us 
 with that becoming hospitality for which his species 
 is so celebrated; with hair all bristled "like quills upon 
 the fretful porcupine," and snarling so as to show an 
 unpleasant array of shaqi, white teeth, he stood reach- 
 ing forward to the utmost tension of his chain — pre- 
 senting such a ferocious aspect that, though securely 
 fastened we could hardly prevail on the ladies to set 
 foot within the grounds. Finally however we all 
 passed in, when we were met by a servant to whom 
 we communicated our desire to see the Chateau. Per- 
 mission was very politely granted, and we were 
 shown through the various apartments, in one of 
 which we saw the portraits of Mad. de Stael and her 
 parents — M. and Mad. Necker: Also a marble bust 
 of the romantic soldier M. Rocca — Mad. de Stael's 
 second husband. We were also shown into the studio, 
 where the authoress of Corinne composed many of her 
 works, and saw there the identical writing-desk and 
 inkstand which she was accustomed to use. In the 
 garden adjoining the Chateau, M. Necker and his 
 illustrious daughter are buried, but we were not permit- 
 ted to visit their tombs for fear, we suppose, of that 
 general spoliation to which all such spots are subject. 
 There is something very fascinating in looking upon 
 the homes of those authors whom we have delighted 
 to read, and especially so when woman has thrown 
 the sacred spell of her nature and her genius over the
 
 76 Memories over the Water. 
 
 spot. "We profess no great admiration for literary 
 "blues," but it were criminal to detract aught from 
 the meed of praise, which posterity has awarded to the 
 name of Mad. de Stael. Associated from her earliest 
 childhood with the "savans" of the age, her mind 
 natui-ally became imbued with the love of political ex- 
 citement and research . By her prominent position in 
 the world of letters, she stands a living assertion of 
 the disputed truth, that woman may think and write 
 equally with proud man. To such a reputation had 
 she attained that, it is related that Napoleon, when 
 about to draft a new constitution for France, extended 
 a pressing invitation to her to visit Paris and assist 
 in its delineation, which however she declined, 
 
 On our return to Geneva, Antonio, the courier, 
 pointed out "Campagne Diodati," on the opposite 
 side of the lake, where Byron resided in 1816, and 
 where he composed his great poem Manfred, as also 
 the third canto of Childe Harold.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 At Geneva, we parted with our friend Taylor, and 
 with much regret, for we had found him a true- 
 hearted fellow, a boon companion, and a certain 
 friend. "We were also loath to bid adieu to such asree- 
 able acquaintances as Mr. Kerr Boyce and family, 
 and especially to tlie fair daughter of the Palmetto 
 state. But they were limited to their time, and so 
 proposed traveling immediately to the Ilhinc, thence 
 down the river, and back to Paris ; while our route 
 led us eastward through Switzerland, thence up North 
 as far as the Prussian capital, and southward thence 
 to the sunny plains of Italy. 
 
 But before leaving Geneva, we of course made an 
 excursion up to Chamouny, in order to have a nearer 
 glimpse at old Mont Blanc. A few miles beyond the 
 walls of the city, we entered the kingdom of Sardinia, 
 on whose boundaries our passports must needs be 
 examined, lest the trace of our errant footsteps might 
 here be lost. Sucli is the passport system of Conti- 
 nental Europe, and so certain are the clues by whicli 
 the traveler is attaclied, that his pathway may be 
 traced, and, if necessary, his course arrested, with as 
 unerring precision, as though the eyes of Argus and
 
 7S Memories over the Wateu. 
 
 the hands of Briareus were ever about liini. Our 
 road through Sardinia led us over a l)roken and 
 varied landscape, whose alternate features were lofty 
 mountain and deep ravine, fruitful valley and fertile 
 plain, dashing cascade, and mountain torrent. Par- 
 ticularly beautiful was one fountain which we saw, 
 springing sheer out from the mountain height, and 
 falling in comet-like spray upon the rocks below. 
 Reached the village of St, Martin about noon, where 
 we changed our carriage for a species of vehicle, 
 used especially for mountain travel, and denominated, 
 in the lingo of the country, " Char-a-bancs." Just 
 beyond St. Martin ripples a bold little stream, over 
 whose limpid waters is thrown a picturesque stone 
 bridge, where each and every traveler pauses to look 
 again on the majesty of Mont Blanc ; for, from this 
 point, a clear and unobstructed view may be had of 
 his huge proportions. Moving onward, we pass by 
 several immense glaciers, which stretch themselves 
 down from the mountain top, like huge robes of molten 
 silver, rolling from the brawny shoulders of the hills, 
 and reach Chamouny about sunset. 
 
 Being in a meditative mood that evening, we 
 walked out alone, to look, without interruption, upon 
 the grandeur that encompassed us on every side. The 
 goddess of the night had not yet begun her course 
 through the azure sky, and her expectant train were 
 looking eastward for her coming. Mont Blanc is 
 beautiful, as the last rays of the setting sun linger 
 and play upon its summit! It is beautiful when the
 
 Memories oveu the Wateu. 79 
 
 gorgeous Day-king, from his rosy couch arising, first 
 greets its unsullied brow, kissing away the mists that 
 have gathered there, with his ardent rays ! But glo- 
 rious, supremely beautiful is it, when the pale mother 
 of dreams hath gathered under her sable wings the 
 silent earth, and the still spirit of night is brooding, 
 like the chost of an extiniijuislicd world, above our 
 globe. "We rested in the solemn stillness of the hour, 
 under the deep and somber shadows of the great 
 mountain before us, which, lifting its lofty head high 
 into the blue vault of heaven, seemed, with its chaste 
 brow of virgin snow, a meet abiding-place for the 
 spirit of its Creator. Pure, proud, and peerless it 
 stood ! All was silent as the dream of death, as 
 nature calmly slept beneath the holy watch of the 
 stars. Not a single cloud was seen to vail the sacred 
 head of earth's high altar — not a light- winged zephyr 
 stirred the slumbering leaves. But elevating was the 
 grandeur and inspiring the all-pervading beauty of 
 the scene. The faint outline of the white mountain - 
 top seemed mingling with the arch of heaven, while 
 the bright stars encircled its brow like a brilliant 
 tiara. "Well hatli the child of poetry sung — 
 
 " Mont Blanc is the monarcli of mountains ; 
 They crowned him long ago— 
 On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds, 
 With a diadem of snow." 
 
 On the following morning, we had mules ordered, 
 and started for Flegere, a lofty point on the west side 
 of the Chamouny valley. Our entire company seemed
 
 80 Memories over the Water. 
 
 most racri'ily disposed, and woman's silvery laugh 
 blended in sweet accord with tlie hoarser mirth of 
 man, as our sagacious animals picked their way along 
 the tortuous mountain-path, making progress, slow, 
 but sure, up the toilsome ascent. We met, on our 
 journey up the mountain, lasses in great profusion, 
 who, with saucers of fruit, and glasses of goat's milk 
 in their hands, accost the traveler, and invite him to 
 refreshment. But " excelsior" is our motto, and still 
 higher we urire on our faithful mules. Here we 
 encounter a clamorous bevy of highland maids, and 
 there, under the shadow of that tree to the right, 
 reclines a young Englishman, adding to the numerous 
 scenes of his sketch-book. At last, we reach our 
 destination, but with mountain -heights still towering 
 above us. Our ambition, however, is satisfied, and 
 so we decline further ascension, well content to rest 
 and gaze on the glorious views around, about, below, 
 above us : at the sweet little valley, economically 
 cultivated, glowing with golden grain and deep-green 
 verdure, far down in the chasm below ; on tlie num- 
 berless peaks above and around us ; and lastly, on 
 the sky-kissing summit of the snow-clad monarch — 
 the home and throne of Winter, where, robed in his 
 white mantle, he sits, looking down on Summer 
 kneeling at his feet. 
 
 But now we begin our descent, some laughing, and 
 some chatting, some walking, with highland stock 
 in hand, ajid some quietly sitting on their mules, 
 wlicn hark ! we stop and hold our breath, as the first
 
 Memories oveu the Watek. 81 
 
 roar of the Alpine avalanche is borne, like muttering 
 thunder to our ears. The avalanche ! the avalanche ! 
 now leaps from tongue to tongue, and our hearts rise 
 and swell with the rushing sound, and only resume 
 their regular beating as the murmuring echo rolls 
 away, like " dying thunder on the distant wind." 
 
 Keached our hotel in safety, dined heartily, mounted 
 our mules, and were oif for the famous " Mer de 
 glace," situated high up on the east side of the valley. 
 Clambered up the rocky pathway, now through the 
 dense shade of the pine, and now across the fearful 
 track of some former avalanche, that with mighty 
 sweep had made bare the mountain side. Reached 
 the little rustic hotel, and there leaving our mules, 
 we descended on foot, and clambered over this won- 
 derful " sea of ice," whose surface is covered with 
 stones of immense weight and magnitude, brought 
 down from the heights above, and fearfully dangerous 
 vdth its deep fissures and slippery chasms. These 
 huge glaciers glide gradually down, through their 
 deep beds in the mountain side, to the valley below, 
 as the accumulating weight of snow above presses 
 onward the solid, glittering mass, which, as it reaches 
 the warmer atmosphere of the valley, terminates in a 
 mountain stream. Occasionally, a part breaks away, 
 which then occasions the most destructive of ava- 
 lanches. 
 
 But time tails us to mention the myriad wonders 
 here displayed: we can only confide them to the 
 keeping of memory. There is proverbially much
 
 82 Memories over the Water. 
 
 humbug in the stories of travelers, and, as a general 
 thing we found it so. But in Switzerland there can 
 be no disappointment. Reality often far exceeds the 
 utmost anticipation, and you only wonder why more 
 has not been said and sung. No cramped and disap- 
 pointed feeling can find place in the heart of the 
 traveler as he journeys amid the deep and inspiring 
 beauties of the Alps. The free spirit goes exultingly 
 forth, and worships on its buoyant wings, amid the 
 mighty tabernacles of nature.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 On our return from Chamouny wc again resumed 
 our route of travel, and now proceeded by private 
 conveyance, called in the language of the country, 
 traveling by " Vetturini." These " Yctturini " agree, 
 for a certain amount, to convey you from one desig- 
 nated point to another, and, if you wish it, within a 
 certain time, furnishing for you both the carriage and 
 horses. This mode of traveling in Switzerland, or 
 any other country, which you may wish to see 
 thoroughly, is, by far, preferable to any other, and is 
 generally adopted by those traveling in parties. So, 
 starting out from "Ilotcl L'Ecu" with "four in 
 hand," we rattled across " the blue waters of the 
 arrowy Rhone," and winding along the northern 
 margin of lake Geneva, we made our way toward the 
 head of Leman's waters. The tinkling bells about 
 our horses' necks jingled meiTily, the wind blew 
 lustily, and the little black dog of our coachman 
 barked with delight as we drove on through the land 
 of William Tell. The route was a beautiful one ; the 
 clear blue waters of Leman were dancing in the breeze 
 just on our right, while immediately on our left arose 
 the vine-clad, and stone-terraced hills, with soil well 
 
 (83)
 
 84 Memokies over the Wateu. 
 
 tilled and space closely economized, while many a 
 pretty chateau and rustic chapel peered through the 
 openings of autumn's golden umbrage. At the bend 
 of the lake we passed by the beautiful city of Lau- 
 sanne, situated just on the brow of the hill on our 
 left, and famous for its cathedral and college. In a 
 few hours afterward we reached the village of Yevey, 
 and procured apartments at the '"Hotel des Trois 
 Couronnes," most beautifully located immediately on 
 the beach of the lake, and one of the handsomest 
 establishments of the kind to be found in Europe. 
 Pleasure boats, of every description, are moored hard 
 by the hotel door, and every facility offered for excur- 
 sions out upon the water. No wonder that Byron 
 and Gibbon, Rousseau and Yoltaire, Calvin and De 
 Stael should have loved the fresh, fair banks of 
 
 " romantic Leman," for never yet hath our eye rested 
 on a land so fertile in beauty and grandeur of scenery ; 
 
 whose mountains are so majestic, or whose waters so 
 blue ; whose valleys rejoice with their golden har- 
 vests, and whose hills blush with the purple grape. 
 Far away over the rolling billow, in our own native 
 land, we were wont to look on such scenes, so sacred 
 in the associations of history and of poetry, as holy 
 beauties, which we must ever worship afar off. But 
 now were we brought into very contact with them . We 
 had stood where Byron wrote ; where Calvin preached ; 
 where Yoltaire sneered ; where Rousseau lived ; where 
 Cuesar trod, and we, ail-but, feared the spell of the 
 enchantment might thenceforth be broken.
 
 Memories over the Water. 85 
 
 About eight o'clock on the following morning we 
 procured carriages from the hotel, and set out on an 
 excursion toward " Chillon's snow-white battlements," 
 where the scene of that touching story, " the Prisoner 
 of Chillon," is laid. The castle lies just in the edge 
 of the water, and the waves lave on every side its 
 weather-beaten walls. How lovely was the morning ; 
 how cool the mountain air ; how still the placid lake ; 
 how green the Alpine sides ; how white their hoary 
 brows ! Our fine horse bore us rapidly from the hotel 
 to the castle, a distance of some six or eight miles, 
 when we were taken in charge by a merry lady, who 
 officiated as our guide for the day. But Byron has 
 more prettily spoken of this spot than we may possi- 
 bly speak : 
 
 " Chillon ! thy prison is a holy place. 
 And thy sad floor an altar, for 'twas trod. 
 Until his very steps have left a trace, 
 Worn as if the cold pavement were a sod. 
 By Bonnivard ! May none those marks efface, 
 For they appeal from tyranny to God." 
 
 We saw those traces worn in the living rock, by the 
 impatient footsteps of the luckless Bonnivard, who, 
 for six long years, was here imprisoned. We saw the 
 pillar, and the iron bolt by which he was confined. 
 Entered the room in which tradition asserts that two 
 thousand Jews were put to death ; and stood upon the 
 very rock upon which the most of them were smoth- 
 ered ; saw, too, the beam on which some of their 
 bodies were hung, and the window through which 
 they were cast into the lake.
 
 86 Memokies over the Water. 
 
 " There are seven pillars of Gothic mold 
 In Chillou's dungeons, deep and old ; 
 There are seven columns massy and gray ; 
 •Dim -with a dull imprison'd ray." 
 
 On tliese gray columns are found tho names of 
 many illustrious men, wlio have visited Chillon — 
 among them, that of Byron in his own hand. Saw- 
 through the window the little spec of an island, so 
 minutely described in the poem — 
 
 " And then there was a little isle 
 That in my very face did smile ! 
 A small green isle — it seemed no more — 
 Scarce broader than my dungeon floor, 
 But in it there were three tall trees, 
 And o'er it blew the mountain breeze. 
 And by it there were waters flowing, 
 And on it there were young flowers growing, 
 Of gentle breath and hue." 
 
 Leaving the dungeons, we were next conducted 
 through the various apartments of the castle. Saw 
 the sleeping chamber of the Duke of Savoy, and the 
 curiously carved bed-post, which was made in the 
 fifteenth century. Now the merry lady, our guide, 
 had, in the beginning, admonished us against taking 
 away any of the mementoes, that might be lying 
 about ; but we must have something to remind us in 
 after days of our visit to Chillon, and so while our 
 fair cicerone was busily engaged in relating some old 
 tradition in the adjoining room, we most irreverently 
 did borrow from the good bishop his own knife, and 
 therewith did feloniously cut away one of the numer- 
 ous little knobs of tlie carving, where many a similar
 
 Memories over the Water. 87 
 
 spoliation had been made. But in our guilty hurry 
 the truth of the maxim, that " honesty is the best 
 policy," was fully illustrated, for the knife suddenly 
 slipped, and our hand striking hard against the sharp 
 carving, a couple of badly bruised fingers, caused us, 
 for some time after, to have a very vivid recollection 
 of that same old bed-post. 
 
 Dropping some small coin into the hand of our 
 guide, we bade her good morning, and returned to 
 Yevey. Passed by Clarens, " birthplace of deep 
 love," and had the " Chateau Blonay " pointed out 
 on the right, said to have been in the possession of 
 the family, who now occupy it, for upward of seven 
 hundred years.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 From Ycvey our route led us northward toward the 
 Bernese Alps. Ascending the high hills in the rear 
 of the village, we had a constant and successive change 
 of the most witching scenery, afforded by the gradual 
 ascent of the tortuous road, as it wound gracefully up 
 the mountain height. "When about three miles from 
 Balle we met the "Diligence," and in it we dis- 
 covered the familiar face of our Nashville friend, R. 
 W. McGavock, who, in company with young John- 
 stone, of So. Ca., was traveling down to Geneva. He 
 likewise recognized our company and got out to speak 
 with us. Unfortunately he delayed too long, and the 
 impatient driver of the "Diligence" drove ofl' and he 
 was left on the roadside to make his way as best he 
 might to Yevey. We subsequently learned that he 
 arrived in safety, having footed it a portion of the way, 
 when meeting with the cart of a countryman he took 
 a seat by the side of the peasant and thus entered the 
 village. We reached Balle about dusk, and rested 
 for that night at the hotel of the " Cheval Blanc." 
 
 Early on the following morning we took a stroll 
 down to a neighboring village, whose name we have 
 
 forgotten. But entering the cliureli-yard, we were 
 
 (88)
 
 Memories over the Water. 89 
 
 witness to a peculiar custom of the country. Within 
 a small recess of the church-wall was an immenso 
 quanty of human skulls and bones. The latter were 
 all carefully piled up, and systematically arranged the 
 one upon the other, while capping this pyramid of in- 
 animate humanity was exposed a ghostly array of 
 skulls, grinning ghastly smiles upon the intrusive 
 traveler. 
 
 Keturned to our hotel, and were soon journeying on 
 toward the city of Berne. The morning was clear 
 and cloudless, and the face of nature had dawned its 
 sweetest smile. But the fresh, fair countenance of 
 Switzerland is in sad contrast with the homely visages 
 of her children. The people are generally courteous 
 and honest, but by no means handsome. The women 
 perform much of the drudgery of the land, laboring 
 daily in the open fields with their brothers and hus- 
 bands. As we passed them in groups, with their 
 broad -brimmed hats flapping upon their shoulders 
 engaged in gathering in the haiTCst, we would greet 
 them with a smile and a bow, which they would 
 merrily return, seeming both amused and gratified at 
 our salutations. 
 
 About noon we rode into the fine old town of 
 Freiburg, with its ancient walls and time-worn 
 cathedral. Dined at the " Zahringer Ilof," which 
 commands a fine view of the two celebrated suspen- 
 sion bridges, overhanging the deep gorge of the 
 Saarine river, and then went to hear the famous organ
 
 90 Memories over the "Water. 
 
 in the clnirch of St. Nicholas, said to be the finest in 
 the world, and whose mournful music has been known 
 to draw tears from the eye of the wayfaring stranger. 
 But such was not its effect upon us, though we felt 
 the inspiration of its deep-toned melody in all its 
 touching beauty. Now its soft, sweet notes came 
 forth, like the low murmur of love upon the heart of 
 the young, and now the lofty arches were echoing 
 with the full flood of melody, that rolled along their 
 swelling sides like the loud chorus of angel and 
 archauQ-el. Anon some dulcet note would steal like 
 the whisper of an angel upon our ears, and then the 
 loud peal of the thunder and the lightning crash 
 would seem to shake the old cathedral to its deepest 
 foundations as the representation of the storm con- 
 cluded. 
 
 On our return to the hotel, we saw the old lime- 
 tree, twenty feet in circumference, which, according to 
 the tradition of the town, was thus planted on the 
 day of the battle of Morat, in 1476. A Freibour- 
 geois youth, wounded in the fierce engagement, ran 
 with a lime-branch in his hand from the scene of 
 conflict to his native city, to communicate the glad 
 tidings of triumph. He reached the home of his 
 fathers, faint and bleeding, and shouting with his last 
 feeble breath, the cry of victory, he fell into the arms 
 of death. The branch that he bore in his hand was 
 planted on the spot, and grew into an immense tree. 
 Centuries have showered their summers and their
 
 Memories over the Water. 91 
 
 snows upon its venerable boughs, and yet it still 
 stands, to commemorate the name and virtues of that 
 noble youth. Such, at least, is the tradition, 
 
 Freiburg is one of the strongholds of the Romish 
 priesthood, and there we first saw the Capuchin friar, 
 in all his coarse attire — rough, brown gown, long 
 and flowing beard, closely shaved head, and sandals 
 without stockings. There is something which com- 
 mands our admiration in the self-denial of the Chris- 
 tian, and much to respect in the exercise of his true 
 penitence and unaffected contrition ; but there is 
 nothing commendable in the outward show of pen- 
 ance, nor yet anything praiseworthy in such a dis- 
 regard for the fashions of earth, as to dress in filth 
 and rags, as we have seen many of the Capuchin 
 order. 
 
 About three o'clock, p. m., we were again "en 
 route," crossing over the famous suspension -bridge, 
 said to be the longest, of a single sweep, in the world. 
 Its length is estimated at 941 feet, its elevation above 
 the water ISO feet, and its width 22 feet and 11 
 inches. The scenery still continued beautiful, here a 
 smiling valley, there a green-clad hill, and now and 
 then we could descry the sky-piercing peaks of the 
 Bernese range peering over the line of lofty hills on 
 our right. About sundown, we entered Berne by the 
 gate of Morat, which is flanked on each side by the 
 image of an enormous bear. Bruin seems to be the 
 presiding divinity of the good city of Berne ; for he
 
 92 Memories oyer the Water. 
 
 has a fiit office, and lives at the public expense. The 
 citizens take great pride in their pet, and willingly 
 contribute to his generous sustenance. We put up at 
 " L'llotel du Faucon," and thence strolled down to the 
 Terrace, which, supported by a massive wall of heavy 
 masonry, rises 188 feet above the foaming Aar, 
 This elevation is planted in trees, and serves as a 
 public promenade for the citizens ; and from here a 
 beautiful view of the Bernese Alps is presented — six 
 white peaks, rising in regular succession, like so 
 many tall giants, clad with silver helmets, and stand- 
 ing out in bold relief against the blue sky beyond. 
 Some of the peculiarities of Berne are its curious 
 old town-clock, its gloomy arcades, its bear-decked 
 fountains, and the Swiss soldier — not sword in hand, 
 but pipe in mouth. 
 
 Made an early start on the following morning, and 
 reached the village of Thun about ten a. m. Had all 
 variety of scenery, and were especially pleased with 
 the appearance of the queer old Swiss cottages, their 
 roofs covered with stones to prevent their being blown 
 away, and witli pious and patriotic sentiments written 
 over their doorways — "bound like frontlets on their 
 brows." We went over the old feudal castle of Thun, 
 said to be seven hundred years old. Stood in the 
 churchyard terrace, which Byron speaks of in his 
 letters as affording some of the finest views in the 
 world. Our horses being fed and refreshed, we moved 
 on toward Interlaken, along the southern margin of
 
 Memokip:s ovia: the Watku. 93 
 
 lakcThun. The old hills loukcd dreamily down upon 
 its classic waters, soothed, as it were, into a quiet sleep, 
 and slumbering away in the soft and hazy atmos- 
 phere. Passed through the dilapidated village of 
 Unterseen, at the head of the lake, and entered Inter- 
 laken, a most beautiful summer resort, and especially 
 patronized by the wealthy class of the Traveling 
 English.
 
 CIIAPTEU XIII. 
 
 Interlaken is one of the most beautiful villages in 
 the world. Located just between the waters of Lake 
 Thun and Lake Brienz — and hence its name, Inter- 
 laken — it commands every variety of scenery, from 
 the virgin snows of the Jung-Fran to the placid 
 waters of Thun; from the lofty brow of the " Silver 
 Horn" to the still bosom of Brienz; from the dense 
 forest of the mountain to the wild flower of the valley. 
 Being sustained almost exclusively by the patronage 
 of the wealthy and the cultivated, each and every 
 building within its corporate limits is handsomely 
 ornamented both in style of architecture, and in the 
 decorations of shrubs and flowers. An atmosphere 
 of health and purity seemed to pervade the place, 
 for we found within its fair borders neither the care- 
 worn visage of poverty, nor the bloated countenance 
 of vice. 
 
 Immediately after our arrival we procured a couple 
 
 of light carriages, and struck out westward toward 
 
 Lauterbrunnen, passing by the old and dilapidated 
 
 Castle of Unspunnen, the reputed residence of Byron's 
 
 Manfred. The walls are all crumbling away under 
 
 the burden of their years, and tlie green ivy grows 
 (94)
 
 Memokies over the "Water. 95 
 
 lovingly over their moldering ruins, seeking as it 
 were to conceal the desolation of decay. Wc now 
 enter the wild and broken gorge of the Lutschine 
 torrent, presenting to the eye of the traveler a most 
 savage and sublime appearance, the craggy cliffs 
 rising abruptly on either hand to kiss the fleecy 
 clouds. In many places we found the strata of rocks 
 of curious formation, being curved and contorted, 
 reminding one of that pristine state which geologists 
 tell about, when earth was young, and the liquid 
 mass of primeval matter bubbled up from the boiling 
 caldron of chaotic nature. Saw on the roadside 
 " the brother's stone," marking the spot where one 
 brother fell by the hand of the other. The legend 
 tells how the fate of the first Cain pursued the 
 wretched fratricide, and wandering off among the 
 mountains he perished with the wild beasts of the 
 field. 
 
 About two miles from the gateway of the Lutschine 
 gorge, the chasm diverges, the right hand leading 
 up to Lauterbrunncn, and the left to Grindelwald. 
 Lauterbrunnen lies two thousand four hundred and 
 fifty feet above sea-level, and yet is so sunk within 
 the sides of the mountain-chasm that in summer the 
 sun is never visible before seven o'clock, and in the 
 winter not before noon. From the brows of the over- 
 hanging clifls, dangle no less than thirty cascades, 
 falling like threads of silver into the valley below. 
 They all, however, " hide their diminished heads" 
 before the exquisite beauty of the Staubbach, one of
 
 96 Memories over the Water. 
 
 the most wonderful waterfalls in Europe, measuring 
 eight hundred feet in height. The volume of water is 
 not great, and as it pours over the wave-worn cliff 
 down into the dark ravine, most of it, ere it reaches 
 the bottom, is converted into gentle spray, and looks, 
 with the sun-light streaming the colors of the rainbow 
 among the crystal drops, like some angel of light and 
 beauty weeping down into the gloom of Hades. 
 Byron thus mentions this cascade in his Manfred — 
 
 •' The sunbow's rays still arch 
 The torrent with the many hues of heaven, 
 And roll the sheeted silver's waving column 
 O'er crags headlong perpendicular; 
 And fling its line of foaming light along, 
 And to and fro, like the pale courser's tail. 
 The giant steeds to be bestrode by death. 
 As told in the Apocalypse." 
 
 The traveler from Interlaken to Lauterbruunen 
 meets with beggars innumerable ; but there is one 
 feature about their profession which not only robs the 
 calling of one-half its objections, but will fully com- 
 pensate the passenger for the exercise of his charity. 
 The mountain girls, sometimes with instruments of 
 music, keep pace with the "char-a-banc," warbling 
 their wild Swiss melodies, which find an echo for 
 every note along the mountain side. Tliis they do 
 not without the expectation of reward ; and as to the 
 flower girl of Florence, so to the minstrel girl of Swit- 
 zerland you must give, if but for the poetry of their 
 vocation.
 
 Memouies over the Water. 97 
 
 On the following day we were up bright and early, 
 and paid a second visit to the Staubbach. The morn 
 was all roseate with beauty and laughing with joy, 
 while the mountain air seemed as permeant ambrosia 
 to our system, lleturning to the hotel, escorted by a 
 whole bevy of tow-headed damsels, we dispatched our 
 breakfast, and made preparations for returning to 
 Interlaken. Mrs. Eakin, little Willie, and Antouia 
 went immediately back by carriage, while the remain- 
 der of our party purposed crossing the Wengern Alp 
 on horseback. As we left the hotel, Henry and our- 
 self being in the rear of the rest, we started off in a 
 
 CD 7 
 
 great hurry, and in endeavoring to quicken the pace 
 of our lazy animal by the application of Solomon's 
 principle, we broke a pretty little cane that we had 
 brought all the way from Mont Blanc as a memento. 
 As for friend Fogg, he got on pretty well, until he 
 reached a stable on the roadside, where his obstinate 
 steed called a determined halt, and neither kicks nor 
 coaxing would induce him to proceed. The entire 
 vocabulary of endearing epithets was exhausted, 
 switches innumerable worn out, and even the force of 
 heels well nigh spent, yet with head tucked down 
 and cars thrown back the ungracious beast stood 
 immovable. How the result would have been we 
 cannot tell, had not one of the guides, who had loit- 
 ered behind, now come up, and led the stubborn old 
 fellow along beyond view of the tempting stable. 
 Spurring across the ''Lutschine Blanc," nearly oppo- 
 site the Staubbach, we commenced the steep and toil- 
 8
 
 98 Memokies ovek the Watek. 
 
 some ascent of the Wengern Alp. Unlike the hardy 
 mnle, our horses must, every now and then, be per- 
 mitted a breathing spell. On reaching the first bench 
 of the mountain we bore off to the right, and had a 
 view of Interlaken, lying far down in the valley of the 
 Thun. Turning now up to the left, we crossed over 
 a boggy meadow on the mountain side, and soon after 
 reached the rustic hotel, immediately facing the Jung- 
 Frau. The day was " beautiful as a dream," and in 
 every respect favorable for the falling of the ava- 
 lanche. We took our seats on the rough wooden 
 bench, in front of the " Half-way House," and list- 
 ened to the faint, musical tinkling of the cow-bells, as 
 their patient bearers fed far down in the valley. All 
 else is silent, when suddenly we are startled by the 
 roar of the avalanche, and casting our eyes over to 
 the snow-clad sides of the mountains opposite, we 
 see it rushing down, producing a sound that exactly 
 resembles the distant murmuring of deep-toned thun- 
 der. The grandeur of the avalanche, however, as it 
 is witnessed on a warm day among the Alps, consists 
 more in the sound than in the sight, so much so that 
 you can hardly realize that those echoing thunders 
 arise from yon small cascade of snow, as it steals on its 
 meandering course down to the valley. But the trav- 
 eler must bear in mind that he stands at a distance, 
 and that those apparently insignificant streams of 
 snow are composed of whole tons of ice — and woe to 
 "the hamlet of the harmless villager" that lies in the 
 sweep of their pathway. We heard and saw no less
 
 Memories over the Water. 99 
 
 than hair a dozen avalanches in the course of an hour, 
 and then resumed our passage over the mountain. 
 About two miles further on we attained the summit of 
 the pass, where is situated a clean, white " chalet," and 
 from this point we had a most beautiful view of Grin- 
 del wald, loosely sprinkled along the well-tilled valley. 
 This "•chalet" is six thousand two hundred and eighty 
 feet above the level of the sea. "We now pass from 
 under the smile of the "Young Bride," and com- 
 mence our descent, which is steep and dangerous to 
 ride. "We passed in sight of many trees, which 
 seemed to have been shattered cither by storm or 
 avalanche. Of this spot Byron thus speaks — 
 " Whole woods of withered pines, all withered ; 
 trunks stripped and barkless ; branches lifeless ; done 
 by a single winter ; their appearance reminded me of 
 myself and family." As we descended still further, 
 our approach was hailed, as usual, by the sound of 
 music ; the little boys running ahead of us and 
 blowing on their Alpine horns to produce the echo, 
 while a little farther down sat an old woman, in front 
 of her cottage, picking away on a species of the 
 mandelin, and making good music. 
 
 Found our carriage in waitinsi: at the " Hotel des 
 Ours," and getting in we started down the vallev of 
 the " Lutschine Noir," toward Interlaken. Occasion- 
 ally we would encounter an old woman with an 
 immense goitre, standing on the roadside, and with 
 extended hand soliciting charity. Iler deformity she 
 ^eeps carefully and conspicuously exposed, which she
 
 100 Memories over the "Water. 
 
 has learned \\i\l excite the sympathy of the traveler, 
 and then extract the gift. The goitre is very preva- 
 lent among the Swiss, many having the tumor as 
 large and sometimes even larger than the head. But 
 this unkindness of dame Nature is frequently found 
 to be a prolific source of revenue, for placing himself 
 in a prominent position on the roadside, he who can 
 parade the most unsightly spectacle will, in proportion 
 to the extent of his deformity, realize a pecuniary 
 profit.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 On resuming our journey from Intcrlaken, tlie 
 majority of our company went on to Lucerne, by the 
 carriage, while we and the Bishop took the following 
 route : Leaving our baggage to be carried around by 
 the coachman, we started by early sunrise from the 
 hotel, and taking a row-boat at the foot of Lake 
 Brienz, we went gliding over its peaceful waters, to 
 the village of the same name, situated near the east- 
 ern extremity of the lake. We arrived about nine 
 o'clock, A. M., and, having procured a guide and a 
 couple of Alpine stocks, we set out afoot to make the 
 pass of the Brunig. Brienz we found to be an old 
 and shattered village, with nothing very remarkable 
 about it, excepting, perhaps, the great quantity of 
 fancy woodwork that is here manufactured. The 
 Swiss peasants, during thd long hours of winter, 
 when they are confined within doors, employ their 
 leisure time in cutting out all manner of curious 
 devices in wood, which find a ready sale, as memen- 
 toes, among the travelers through that region of coun- 
 try. We did not leave the village before the Bishop 
 had made the purchase of several articles ; and we, 
 
 forsooth, had bought a devil. Sulphur and brimstone 
 
 f 101 )
 
 102 Memories ovkij thk Wa'iek. 
 
 are generally associated with our ideas of his Satanic 
 majesty, and so the ingenious architect had strapped 
 a match-box to the back of Sir Lucifer, reckoning it 
 an applicable ornament. — " Get thee behind me, 
 Satan," said we, as we rammed the gentleman of the 
 cloven foot into our coat-pocket, and followed on after 
 our reverend companion. With a devil behind, and 
 a bishop before us, we congi*atulated ourself upon the 
 comical variety of our fellowship, and trudged onward 
 up the valley, along the foot of the mountain. In 
 about one hour we reached the ]:>athway that led up- 
 ward toward the Brunig, and here we began our 
 ascent. Our guide was a merry fellow, and though 
 he spoke not a word of English or of French, still he 
 seemed determined to hold converse with us on our 
 upward tramp. By various signs and gesticulations, 
 we strove to instruct him in our own vernacular, 
 while he readily sought to enlighten us in the jaw- 
 breaking German. Frequently we would pause, to 
 look down on the valley, and occasionally to send a 
 stone leaping and bounding away over all opposition, 
 to the base of the mountain. The cool and refreshing 
 breezes of the mountain braced up our limbs, sending 
 an elastic strength and a new health dancing through 
 every vein, as we strode sturdily onward and upward. 
 On reaching the summit, we found there the usual 
 refreshment-room, where we rested over a bottle of 
 wine. On again taking up our line of march, we, 
 (the singular number, of course,) found that the 
 generous beverage had so mello^yed our spirit-Sj and
 
 Memories over the Water. 103 
 
 enlivened our tongue, that we made merry with 
 Bishop, guide, and devil, and on any subject that 
 might come uppermost in our mind. Soon after 
 leaving the rustic retreat, we encountered a second 
 party, who were crossing over to Brienz. They were on 
 the well-beaten bridle-path, and we on the smooth 
 footpath, being distant from each other about one 
 hundred yards. But a salute must be given, and so 
 lifting our hats upon our Alpine stocks, and waving 
 them toward the advancing party, we raised a genuine 
 Yankee hurrah. The compliment was understood and 
 appreciated; for, imitating the example, they too, 
 raised their hats in return, the ladies waving their 
 white " mouchoirs," while a shout of hearty good-will 
 echoed among the mountain-tops. Thus we passed, 
 each party doubtless feeling all the better for the warm 
 and friendly greeting. Presently we reached the spot 
 where stands an old chapel, and from which we 
 looked down on the village of Lungerne. From this 
 point we began our descent, the mountain-path being 
 steep and precipitous, hewn out into steps, and over- 
 hanging a deep chasm. The clustering branches 
 overarched the pathway, excluding every ray of sun, 
 and shrouding it in a mantle of deepest shade, ren- 
 dering the route peculiarly romantic and inspiring. 
 On rcachino; Lunirerne, we were well willing to rest 
 our wearied limbs in a small carriage, which bore us 
 along the southern shores of Lakes Lungerne and 
 Sarnen, to the village of Alpnach. Passed by several 
 huge bowlders along the way, and by the lonely stone
 
 lOi Memories ovek the Water. 
 
 cross and tlie miniature chapel that stood by tlie road- 
 side, we knew that we had again entered a Koman 
 Catholic canton. One little white cross we recollect, 
 which stood solitary and alone, far up upon the high- 
 est summit of a bare and isolated peak, scarcely 
 visible from the road, but pointing, with extended 
 arms, high into the pure heavens above. "We can see 
 it now, as it glimmered, like a dim spec, on the lofty 
 brow of the naked mountain, and we even remember 
 the face of the Swiss girl, who, as we were gazing on 
 the distant cross, came tripping out from her 
 mother's cottage, and offered her basket of mellow 
 fruit. 
 
 On reaching Alpnach we again took the row-boat, 
 and speeding over the " Alpnach Bay," we rounded 
 the point on our left, and glided out into the beautiful 
 " Lake of the Four Cantons." The golden sun was 
 vailing his face behind a bank of clouds, that girdled 
 the craggy head of Old Pilatus, while the atmosphere 
 was of that soft and sweet description, which, in the 
 gentle twilight of autumn, makes the heart grow 
 fond and pensive. The lake was calm as Beauty's 
 sleep, extending in all directions, and its smooth sur- 
 face of the deepest green. Still bearing to the right, 
 we rouR'lod several other points, just off one of which, 
 stood out, like a sulky schoolboy, a small rocky 
 island, on whose top was erected a little chapel to the 
 Virgin Mary. On our right stood up the famous 
 Rigi, to whose summit it is required that every trav- 
 eler should ascend. It was now growing dark, and,
 
 Memories over the Water. 105 
 
 as we glided on, wc would now and then encounter 
 some other boat, and rowed by women^ who looked, 
 in the dim twilight, like witches of the water, as they 
 stood bolt upright at the helm, impelling their IVail, 
 plank boats. Our senses were lulled into a dreamy, 
 thoughtful mood, and we could almost imagine the 
 spectral boat, as it glided silently by, to be guided by 
 the hand of some Sibyl of old, as she sought her 
 lonely cave by the shore of the lake — some Demo- 
 phile, perhaps, who had been wandering forth to 
 gather the leaves on which to inscribe her prophetic 
 verses. 
 
 But rounding now our final point, the city of Lu- 
 cerne came in view, with its tower-studded walls, and 
 tall, tapering spires. In a few moments more, we 
 landed at the door of our hotel, the " Schweizerhof," 
 an elejrant and handsome structure, situated imme- 
 diately on the lake, and looking out over its still, 
 calm waters. 
 
 On the following morning, it being Sunday, we 
 attended divine service at the English chapel. These 
 Protestant churches are quite numerous throughout 
 the Catholic countries of Europe, and we have fre- 
 quently found an English chapel attached to the first- 
 class hotels, in order to draw the English patronage. 
 After service, we visited the long, queer, old painting- 
 decked bridges, the two Cathedrals, and " Thorwals- 
 den's Lion." Tliis celebrated piece of sculpture is cut 
 and chiseled out from the solid rock, which rises in 
 
 a perpendicular blurt' to a considerable height, and in 
 9
 
 106 Memories over the Water. 
 
 a recess, hewn out of the bkiff, reclines the lordly 
 lion, a broken spear piercing his side. Immediately 
 at the foot of the statue, is a pool of water, which 
 adds to the effect of the scene. The figure of the 
 wounded lion is colossal, and his mournful face is full 
 of expressive sorrow. The first view that you catch 
 through the foliage of the trees, as you approach the 
 spot, is the best.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 It was our purpose, on the morning after reaching 
 Lucerne, to make the ascent of the Rigi ; but the 
 summit being vailed in clouds, and the entire pano- 
 rama thus shut out from view, our labor would have 
 been lost. Even old Mont Pilatus, whose rough head 
 serves as a weather-index to the good people of 
 Lucerne, had donned his cloudy cap, thus promising 
 a rain. Concernins; this mountain there is an ancient 
 tradition, that Pontius Pilate, after consenting to the 
 death of our Saviour, was so haunted by the dark- 
 winged spirit of remorse, that he wandered over the 
 face of the earth, a fugitive from the scourges of con- 
 science, and finding life at last an intolerable burden, 
 he threw himself headlong from the heights of this 
 craggy peak, and hence came the name, Mont Pilatus. 
 
 About eight o'clock a. m., we left the city of 
 Lucerne, and wound along the northern margin of 
 Coosnacht Bay, passing by the spot where the mem- 
 orable " slide of the Rossberg" took place, devastating 
 four several villages, and burying more than four 
 hundred human beings beneath its destructive march. 
 We reached Zui:!:^: about noon, and here launched. 
 
 Visited the old cathedral, with its long flight of stone 
 
 (107)
 
 108 Memories over the Water. 
 
 steps, and strolled out upon the pier that reaches out 
 into the lake. About two o'clock we were again on 
 the move, and all in a feverish excitement about the 
 execution of Lopez and his fifty comrades by the 
 Cuban authorities, which intelligence we had acci- 
 dentally learned from an Amei'ican gentleman, wliom 
 we encountered at Zugg, and who himself was furious 
 with indignation. 
 
 On the road from Lucerne to Arth, at the foot of 
 the Eossberg, is the Chapel of William Tell, erected 
 to commemorate the celebrated incidents of Gessler's 
 death. In the chapel there is a painting, which 
 represents the lordly tyrant plierced by the avenging 
 shaft of the immortal Tell, and falling headlong from 
 his horse. He is surrounded by his warlike, but now 
 woe-stricken retinue, who look in vain for the secret 
 hand that guided the death-dealing arrow. The very 
 spot is pointed out where the champion of liberty lay 
 concealed, and also the identical place w^here Gessler 
 fell, Near the latter spot we plucked a green leaf as 
 a memento, and again taking our scats we resumed 
 our journey. Late in the afternoon w^e came suddenly 
 on a view of the lake and city of Zurich, the hills 
 rising gradually up from the edge of the water, like 
 the tiers of some vast amphitheater. The borders of 
 the lake were all beautifully sprinkled wath their 
 pretty white chateaus, presenting to the eye a very 
 pleasant aspect. Lucerne contains about nine thou- 
 sand inhabitants, and Zurich about fifteen thousand. 
 The latter is noted for its silk manufactures, and as
 
 Memories over the Water. 109 
 
 Lcin;-- one of the lirst cities where the Reformation 
 found a foothold, Tlie appearance of the place indi- 
 cates a present prosperous condition, as well as a 
 recent advancement in gi'owth of manufactures and 
 commerce. The respective situations of Geneva, 
 Lucerne and Zurich are strikingly similar. For in- 
 stance, Geneva is located at the foot of Lake Geneva, 
 and divided by the river Ilhone ; Lucerne at the foot 
 of lake Lucerne, and divided by the river Eeuss ; 
 Zurich at the foot of lake Zurich, and di\ddcd by the 
 river Limmat. 
 
 We rested but one night at Zurich, and started, 
 about our usual time, on the following morning for 
 the famous "Fall of the PJiine." Taking down the 
 northern bank of the rapid Limmat we made our way 
 over a capital road toward the town of Schaffhausen. 
 All along the route, the agrarian countrymen were 
 engaged in breaking up their grounds with heavy, 
 cumbrous ploughs, with broad coulters, and running 
 on wheels. As a remarkable fact, these plows were 
 drawn by milch cows. We passed on through seve- 
 ral old villages, and when about twenty miles from 
 Zurich we crossed over the Rhine, by a covered 
 wooden bridge, into the village of Eglisau. Here our 
 coachman baited his horses on bread, baked for that 
 especial purpose, and again we moved on. Soon after 
 we arrived at the *' Hotel Weber," overlooking the 
 Falls of the Rhine. These much-talked-of Falls 
 have nothing of grandeur about them, but arc very 
 beautiful, as you look down from the terrace of the
 
 110 Memories over the Water. 
 
 hotel upon a noble river, rushing over a fall of some 
 thirty feet in height. Two small and isolated stone 
 islands stand up just on the verge of the waterfall, 
 thus dividing the stream into three separate parts. 
 The snow-white foam, caused by the rush of the rapid 
 current over the rocks above, is exquisitely beautiful, 
 and as the racing torrent plunges over the rocky 
 ledge, the wreathing spray, with its attendant iris, 
 "rises like incense from the altar of nature." 
 
 Among our memories of " Hotel Weber" we may 
 not forget the beautiful and blushing young bride, 
 that we encountered upon the hotel terrace. Her fair 
 face flitted for a moment only athwart our delighted 
 vision, then passed away. It came like the flash of 
 some loving sunbeam upon the dark waters of mem- 
 ory, and was gone. Seen but for a moment, it will 
 yet linger for a lifetime amid the phantom beauties 
 of the heart. 
 
 At this point we discharged our coachman, and 
 taking an omnibus to Shaffhausen, about two miles 
 distant, we there embarked aboard a small steamer, 
 it being our purpose to reach Constance by the river 
 Khine. Moving out into the middle of the stream, 
 we went gliding up the swift current, and making but 
 slow progress against its rapid headway. Winding 
 quietly along the fair banks of this poetic river, whose 
 verdant sides were covered with the vine-clad terrace, 
 and whose wondrous beauty was rendered all but holy 
 by the moldering ruins of the ivy-grown castles, we 
 thought of all those wild and entrancing legends, the
 
 Memories oveii the "Water. Ill 
 
 perusal of wliicli had so often caused us, iu our college 
 days, to come up with a "bob-tailed nine" to our re- 
 citations. Occasionally we would dash under one of 
 the low and narrow bridges which span the Khine 
 between Constance and Schaffhausen, and whose 
 floors we touched with our hand as we glided under. 
 The ruin of Ilohenklingcn, perched on the summit of 
 a lofty hill, is one of the most prominent points on 
 the passage up. After shooting the second bridge, the 
 passengers were all shipped aboard a larger and bet- 
 ter boat, called the "Helvetia," while the little "dug- 
 out that had brought us thus far, turned back again. 
 During the transfer of the passengers and their bag- 
 gage, we were standing quietly on the deck of our 
 boat, and noting the various objects presented to our 
 view, when we observed a huge, moustached German 
 rush forward to greet a fellow-countrymau, who like 
 himself was bountifully supplied with the upper-lip 
 ornament, and throwing his arms afiectionately 
 around his delicate companion, they kissed — actually 
 kissed — each other. The whole afiair was to us so 
 ludicrous — the surprise so shocking — that we ail-but 
 tumbled backward into the water. But at last we 
 managed to regain our composure; yet never to this 
 good day have we ceased to wonder at the barbarous 
 custom.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 Passengers and baggage being transferred, we 
 again moved on np the Ehine, Passed by Itznang, 
 the birthplace of Mesmer, the discoverer of animal 
 magnetism, and also by the picturesque old castle of 
 Gottlieben, with its gray and aged towers. This castle 
 is remarkable as having been the prison of John 
 Huss, the reformer and martyr, and also of Jerome of 
 Prague, his companion and colleague. Passing now 
 under an old and dilapidated bridge, we bore around 
 to the left, and landed at the wharf of Constance. A 
 long stone pier here reaches out into the lake, and 
 bending into a wide embrace, serves to break the force 
 of the waves, thus rendering a safe harbor to the 
 steamers and other small craft, that may come within 
 its friendly arms. Here your passports are generally 
 called for, and your baggage examined ; both of 
 which, however, were kindly dispensed with, in our 
 case, by the courteous officers, on learning that we 
 were a party of Americans. 
 
 Constance is a decayed old city, containing only 
 seven thousand two hundred inhabitants, though it 
 once possessed the respectable number of forty thous- 
 and. Robert Hallam, Bishop of Salisbury, is buried 
 (112)
 
 Memories over the Water. 113 
 
 here, under a monument of bronze, brought from the 
 shores of Enghmd, Here the great "Council of Con- 
 stance "" lielJ its sittings from 1414 to 1418, which im- 
 mortalized itself by declaring Church Council superior 
 to the will of the Pope, and deposing John 23d, and 
 Benedict 13th to elect Martin 5th ; but which, also, 
 eternally disgraced itself by the treacherous seizure and 
 cruel murder of John Uuss and Jerome of Prague. 
 Before leaving Constance we took a walk over the city, 
 and visited first the cathedral, and then the old council 
 chamber, situated hard by the shore of the lake. The 
 council hall is now nothing more than a dilapidated 
 old room, more like a depository for ancient lumber, 
 than aught else. In this chamber we saw the sedan 
 in which John Huss was borne to the stake. "We 
 also went into the museum adjoining, which, for the 
 benefit of others, we will say is a decided humbug. 
 They have here the efiigies of IIuss, Jerome, and 
 a Dominican friar; all hideous-looking objects. The 
 voluble door-keeper will persuade you to purchase 
 a small image, which he will tell you is the express 
 likeness of the innocent and heroic martyr, and which 
 is made of the clay taken from the very identical spot 
 on which he was burned, and inclosed in a small box, 
 which is also manufactured of the wood growing near ; 
 all of which are pretty heavy drafts upon the bank of 
 your credulity. 
 
 Our hotel at Constance, the "Brochct," was an 
 elegant establishment, and admirably conducted. Our 
 landlord, M. Keppler, was at once an attentive host.
 
 114 Memories oyer the "Water. 
 
 and a courteous, yea, a courtly gentleman, who spoke 
 the English language with the ease and the fluency 
 of a native. In his handsomely furnished apartments 
 we felt more as an invited guest, than tenant by right 
 of pay. The position of the hotel was likewise agree- 
 able, for, from our window at night, we might look 
 forth upon the fair queen of love, rising over the dis- 
 tant mountains, a misty vail about her pensive face, 
 which was reflected down in the quiet lake, trailing a 
 long train of burnished silver through the calm waters 
 of Constance. 
 
 The German ladies, as well as the gentlemen, have, 
 generally, much better forms, and more pleasant 
 features than other European nations. They seem, in 
 their dispositions, more social and afiectionate; more 
 honest and sincere. They have intelligent, often intel- 
 lectual countenances, with fair complexions, blue eyes 
 and brown hair. Their soldiers, in their handsome 
 uniform, present a fine appearance, and, as a general 
 thing, are excellent specimens of manhood. 
 
 About 10 o'clock a. m., we again went aboard the 
 Helvetia, and crossed over the lake to Friedrich- 
 shafen, situated on its northern shore, about midway 
 from end to end. Here we took the rail, and went 
 rushing over a beautiful country toward the city of 
 Ulm. The intermediate region was thickly dotted 
 with villages, and seemed fertile and productive, the 
 land being generally level, and lying exceedingly well 
 fur cultivation. About 4 o'clock p. m., we arrived at 
 Ulm, and having first found our hotel, we sallied out
 
 Memories over the Water. 115 
 
 to visit tlio liuge, gotliic cathedral of this city. "Wo 
 entered its massive doors in the dhn shadows of 
 twilight, anil as we looked upon its lofty arches, 
 reposing in the deep silence and "dim religious light" 
 of the temple, the imposing spectacle called into play 
 a feeling of pensive thought and solemn reverence. 
 Ulm contains about twenty-three thousand inhab- 
 itants, and is famous as the city, surrendered by 
 "Mack the Incapable" to Napoleon, though he was 
 posted in a strongly fortified tow^n, and in command 
 of thirty thousand men. We cannot say much for the 
 soldier, who would thus yielcl to the terror of a name, 
 without striking one blow for his country, his com- 
 rades, and his character. Near Ulm we saw and 
 crossed the Danube. 
 
 ^Yhile at Ulm we remember that a very genteel old 
 lady came up to our rooms, with an assortment of 
 various toys for sale. In our conversation she cas- 
 ually learned that we were Americans, and was there- 
 upon afiected to tears, as she told how she, too, had a 
 dear son, far away in Chili of South America, who 
 had been expelled from his native land, because he 
 was a republican in principle. The good old lady 
 had been chatting merrily the while, and a garrulous 
 old age seemed making its stealthy advances upon 
 her declining years. But so soon as the name of 
 America was mentioned, her mirth and merriment 
 ceased, a flood of memories, connected with the child- 
 hood of the absent son, seemed sweeping across her 
 mind, and the tears trickled rapidly down her furrowed
 
 IIG Memories oyek the Watek, 
 
 cheeks. Her toys were all forgotten, and as the dew 
 of her fond sorrow slione in her eyes, now dim with 
 age, she told ns, in broken accents, how kind a son he 
 was and how bitter was her sorrow that he should 
 be taken away. Though we bought a memento of 
 the Bavarian mother, yet no tangible souvenir was 
 requisite to keep her kind old face still fresh in our 
 memory. 
 
 About 10 o'clock that night we took our seats in 
 the diligence, and traveling all night we reached 
 Augsburg the next morning about sunrise, and im- 
 mediately took the cars for Munich. The country 
 through which we passed was a lovely picture ; though 
 the land was almost a perfect level, admirably adapted 
 for railroads and race-courses. Previous to reaching 
 Munich, w^e saw the bold outline of the Tyrol Moun- 
 tains, or Rhsetian Alps, rising abruptly out of the 
 plains, and covered with perpetual snow.
 
 CHAPTETv XVII. 
 
 Munich is situated on the poetic Iscr, immortal in 
 English song, and contains 100,000 inhabitants. The 
 country around is one vast plain, over which roam 
 and feed large herds of cattle. No fence nor cottage 
 breaks the monotony of the continued level, and at 
 each nightfall it seems that the countrymen all gather 
 themselves within the friendly walls of the city. 
 
 Soon after our arrival, a carriage and " commis- 
 sionaire " were ordered, and we went forth from our 
 hotel, to see whatever sights the city aflbrded. We 
 drove first to the " Pinacotheque," and on our way 
 we saw the cotta2:e-residence of the noted Lola Mon- 
 tez, from which she was expelled by an infuriated 
 mob of students. The Pinacotheque is a magnificent 
 gallery of paintings, whose walls are hung with the 
 choicest productions in the Bavarian kingdom. They 
 are ranged, according to the diflerent schools, in nine 
 beautiful halls and twenty-three small cabinets, and 
 were, at the time of our visit, 1 270 in number. In 
 the grand hall, we accidentally encountered a very 
 courteous and accomplished English gentleman, who, 
 as an exception to the general character of his 
 countrymen, was socially inclined, and being well 
 
 ril7 )
 
 118 Memokies oyer the Water, 
 
 acquainted with the arrangement of the galleries, he 
 kindly volunteered to point out the most celebrated 
 works in the vast collection. Passing bv the more 
 eminent productions, we will only advert to a few, 
 whose merits especially commended themselves to our 
 own untaught appreciation. Particularly were we 
 pleased with the benevolent expression that rested 
 upon the face of an old man. His features were 
 represented to the very life, and seemed to stand out 
 bona fide flesh and bone — each separate wrinkle dis- 
 tinctly marked, and each gray hair so perfectly 
 natural, it seemed as though you might lift that thin, 
 white lock from ofi' the furrowed forehead. We also 
 observed a most exquisite painting of the infant 
 Savior, holding a bouquet of flowers, freshly gathered, 
 in his hand. How softly gentle — how serenely wise 
 — ^how more than human was the expression of that 
 sweet face ; how true to nature, and how true to art — 
 how childlike and how graceful, w'as his winning atti- 
 tude. Those two paintings linger yet lovingly upon 
 our memory — rest yet calmly and sweetly upon our 
 heart. So potent and so sacred was the influence of 
 their mysterious power, that they might serve as a 
 guardian amulet to our thoughts, a protecting talisman 
 against the Tempter. 
 
 The porter of the Pinacotheque was a huge, 
 lantern-jawed, big-fisted, raw-boned, slab-sided Por- 
 phyrion, by the side of whom our portly Bishop 
 dwindled down into corporeal insignificance. He was 
 the first and last object that greeted our attention, as
 
 Memokies o^EK THE Water. 110 
 
 he stood, a silent and stolid sentinel, at the door of 
 the Finacotheque. 
 
 We now drove to the Basilica of St. Boniface, whose 
 interior is of the richest and most gorgeous character, 
 abounding, too, in ornaments of the chastest beauty, 
 and the purest elegance. The floor is entirely laid 
 with costly mosaic, and the roof is supported by sixty- 
 six handsome marble pillars. Along the walls arc 
 ranged ten large and twelve smaller frescoes, repre- 
 senting the principal events in the history of the 
 patron saint. The exterior of the building is 
 nothing remarkable, either in architecture or embel- 
 lishment. 
 
 We next found our way to the bronze, colossal 
 statue, representing the Genius of Bavaria. Such arc 
 the proportions of this splendid image, that a man may 
 stand upright in the cavity of its head. At the feet 
 of this Guardian Genius, reclines a gigantic lion ; 
 in her left arm she holds the wreath of victory, and 
 on her right arm reposes the sword of justice. At 
 the time of our visit, workmen were cne;ao;ed in 
 erecting a semi-circular temple just in the rear of 
 the statue. 
 
 We now went to the telescope and eye-glass estab- 
 lishment of the celebrated Frauenhofl'en (brothers). 
 Thence wo rode to the Church of St. Michael, where 
 wo saw the monument erected to the memory of Eu- 
 gene Bcauharnais, step-son of Napoleon, by his wife. 
 Thence to the huge old cathedral — a massive and 
 towering pile of red brick. Ilere we saw a splendid
 
 120 Memories over the Water. 
 
 bronze monument to the Emperor Louis the Barerian. 
 At each corner of the sarcophagus kneels an armed 
 knight, clad "cap-a-pie" in burnished armor, and 
 bearing in their left hands the pennon of their lord. 
 On either side stand two Barerian dukes in mournful 
 attitude. The monument is all of the finest bronze, 
 and beautifully wrought. 
 
 We next made our way to the royal Palace, or, as 
 it is there called, the " Residenz." After waiting a 
 short while in the vestibule, we were finally ap- 
 proached by a conductor, who supplied the company 
 with large, soft slippers of cloth, to go over our 
 shoes, and thus prevent injury to furniture and floor 
 during our ramble through the various apartments. 
 Before commencing our march, we bought a small 
 guide-book of the Palace, from a pretty Bavarian 
 girl, whose own fair face, rather than the intrinsic 
 service of the book, M^as the motive of the pur- 
 chase. 
 
 We were now first ushered, through several ante- 
 chambers, into the Ballroom, a spacious and a fitting 
 place to trip the merry dance, when beauty and when 
 royalty are gathered there. Above is the gallery for 
 the musicians, and on the walls are groups of dancers 
 in fresco. Next we entered the Hall of Beauty, 
 so called because containing the portraits of the most 
 celebrated beauties of the present day. They are 
 all from the brush of Stieler, and are exquisitely 
 executed. We were ever susceptive to the enchant- 
 ment of the fair — ever submissive to the magic of
 
 Memories over the "Water. 121 
 
 their wand. Upon the pathway of our lilc, the 
 smile of beauty breaks like the " Will o' the wisp," 
 and wc blindly follow in the wildering lure of the 
 spirit-light. No marvel, then, that as our eye rested 
 fondly on those beauteous brows, our heart should 
 softly yield to the pulsation of love; for, unrebuked, 
 WG looked upon the deep, the love-beaming eye of 
 blue ; and the free fancy reveled in the dark depths 
 of the passionate orb of jet. Tlicre was the fiiiry 
 blonde and the bonny brunette — ringlets of the sun- 
 set hue, carelessly straying over ivory shoulders, and 
 dark masses of wavy hair, closely braided from the 
 polished brow. There were carnation lips, whose 
 sweet pouting seemed like two blushing strawberries, 
 just kissed by the morning dew, and there was 
 again the closely-chiseled mouth, bespeaking a heart 
 which might love, and yet a will that might dare. 
 There was the proud daughter of the monarch, and 
 the peerless child of the peasant, the belle of the 
 ball and the pride of the stage, the court beauty and 
 the cloister-nun. In fine, no one, whatever phase of 
 loveliness may be his choice, may pass through that 
 magic chamber, unchallenged by the mute appeal of 
 those fair faces. The dormant fires of age itself 
 shall wake at least to a fitful life, and the heart 
 of the most devoted anclioritc thrill once more, 
 beneath the unseen touch of Beauty's hand. He 
 who puts foot within that enchanted room, comes out, 
 for a time at least, in love. Among the portraits 
 
 10
 
 122 Memories over the Water. 
 
 that there look lovingly dowu upon the visitor, we 
 saw that of Lola Montez, who even now, in the land 
 of the West, leads captive the popular mind. 
 
 From the Hall of Beauty, we passed into the Hall 
 of Victory, containing several immense paintings, 
 representing the various battle-scenes, in which the 
 Bavarian army was engaged, from 1805 to 1815. 
 Thence we entered the Hall of Charlemagne, where 
 are twenty superb paintings, portraying various 
 scenes in the eventful career of that triumphant 
 emperor. Thence to the Hall of Barbarossa, adorned 
 with one dozen elegant pictures. Thence to the 
 Hapsburg Hall, used by their majesties the King 
 and Queen, on state occasions ; and, finally, to the 
 Throne Boom — a most magnificent apartment — orna- 
 mented by twelve colossal statues of various kings 
 and emperors, mounted on pedestals, and placed at 
 corresponding intervals on each side of the room. 
 They are all of bronze, but washed with the richest 
 gilt, which gives tliem the appearance of golden sta- 
 tues. "With this room our trampling was concluded, 
 when, weary and v^oljisli^ we sought our hotel, and 
 sat down to a sumptuous dinner. 
 
 "We had now seen many handsome cities, since 
 we set sail from the land of the West, but none 
 had we visited, whose appearance was as pleasing as 
 the fair city of Munich. It is, tlirougliout, remark- 
 ably clean, airy, and open, with broad avenues and 
 spacious streets. Each house seems to have "elbow
 
 Mkmoiues over the Water. 123 
 
 room," and the beauty oi" the buildings generally is 
 much enhanced by their white stuccoed fronts, giving 
 a delightful air of cleanliness to the place. The 
 Munich gentleman we found the pink of politeness, 
 who doffs his hat to the high and the low, and 
 almost beats the Parisian himself in punctilio.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 Well! we left the fair city of Munich at six o'clock 
 on the morning of the lOtli of September, and after a 
 weary railway ride we arrived at the city of Ilof soon 
 after dark. "We observed as we passed out from 
 Munich, that great quantities of peat were taken up 
 from the turf in its neighborhood. On the plains 
 near Augsburg we saw the Bavarian troops on parade. 
 Passed by many populous cities in our rapid flight, 
 whose names and number of inhabitants were given 
 us by a very courteous gentleman, whom we had as a 
 traveling companion, and who, though a German, 
 spoke the English language perfectly well. He en- 
 lightened us on many points concerning the present 
 condition of the German Confederacy, and spoke most 
 disparagingly of its political organization, of its 
 chaotic and unintelligible rule, of its degeneracy and 
 its oppression, and evidently showing, from many sen- 
 timents which escaped his lips, his utter disgust at his 
 own government, and that he, like many of his coun- 
 trymen, would be a republican if he dared. 
 
 On the following: morninej while makino; the best 
 
 of a bad breakfast, preparatory to an early start from 
 
 Ilof, we were much amused at the manipulating 
 (124) • .
 
 Memories over the AVater, 125 
 
 method, adopted by our wurtliy Bishop, of" iiiduciug 
 a certain German to dispense with his cigar. Now 
 the Germans are the most inveterate smokers in the 
 world, and deem it no infringement of good-breeding 
 and etiquette to smoke in the presence of ladies. Tliis 
 we knew, and consequently could never insist that 
 one of these phlegmatic sons of humanity should 
 throw away his cigar, when by chance we might be 
 thrown in contact duriuo; the hours of travel. But on 
 this occasion the ladies of our party were at breakfast, 
 and this devotee of tobacco was standing near the 
 fire puffing away with the most provoking noncha- 
 lance. The disagreeable odor was submitted to for a 
 considerable time; but finally the fumes of the noxious 
 weed grew intolerable, and called for some redress. 
 Quietly rising from the table our Herculean Bishop 
 strode heavily across the room, and without deigning 
 one word of German, French or English, he looked 
 the ofi'ending smoker full in the face, and placing his 
 two fingers upon his lips deliberately motioned to 
 him to throw away the cigar — at the same time 
 pointing, as some apology, to the ladies at the table, 
 thereby intimating that his smoking M-as to them 
 ofiensive. The stupefied German stood astounded 
 and nmte, staring with eyes wide open into tiie 
 American's face, until the significant intimation was 
 again slowly and deliberately repeated. Slyly scan- 
 ning the stalwart frame and formidable look of him, 
 who had so suddenly stalked before him with liis 
 t^ilent admonition, the fallow now slowly drew the
 
 126 Memories over the Water. 
 
 cigar from his mouth, but would not throw it away, 
 reserving the luxury for some other and more pro- 
 pitious occasion. This, however, was a satisfactory 
 compromise, and the Bishop again returned to his 
 seat as silently as he had left it. During the entire 
 transaction not one word was spoken on either side, 
 giving the whole afiair an air of the most comic 
 gi-avity. 
 
 At six o'clock, A. M., we were speeding away 
 toward the Prussian capital. In about four hours 
 after we had reached the handsome city of Leipzic, 
 and there awaited the train, which was to leave for 
 Berlin at three o'clock in the afternoon. The day 
 was damp, dark and dreary, while a dull and drizzling 
 rain lent to the face of nature a somber and gloomy 
 aspect. Leipzic is not without its share in the lights 
 and shadows of historic romance ; for here the brave 
 but unfortunate Poniatowsky was first wounded and 
 then drowned, when Napoleon, flying before the 
 combined forces of the allied army, blew up the bridge 
 over the Elster, in order to intercept the pursuit of 
 his enemies, but thereby dooming a portion of his 
 own devoted comrades to inevitable destruction. The 
 gallant steed, though faint and bleeding, bore his 
 dauntless rider into the turbid stream, and fearlessly 
 breasting the angry waves reached the opposite side. 
 But here the weary charger, breathless and exhausted, 
 while still struggling up the slippery bank, fell back- 
 ward again, and the waters of the dusky Elster closed 
 oyer the soul of chivalry, the very emblem of honor
 
 Memories over the Water. 127 
 
 and fidelity. The sheen on that warrior's lance was 
 lost, the glitter of his blade was gone, as weak and 
 battle-worn both horse and rider sank beneath the 
 blood-stained wave. 
 
 But the appointed hour came round, and again we 
 were on the move, scouring across the level plains of 
 Leipzic, on which history affirms the camp-fires of the 
 allied troops were nightly seen to glimmer for thirty 
 miles in the distance, as they gradually concentrated 
 to cnish the dreaded foe, that like lion in his lair lay 
 waiting for their cominsr. Nearer and more near the 
 gay and glittering troops, their bright banners flouting 
 in the morning wind and furled again at nightfall, 
 came vcrgino; to a center. Their bristling ranks now 
 encircled the walled city like a band of living steel, 
 when bursting, like the avenging thunderbolt from 
 the red right-hand of heaven, came the invincible 
 Napoleon, breaking like flaxen tJireads their serried 
 columns and hurling death and destruction on that 
 myriad host. 
 
 The country still mainly preserved its uniform level, 
 varied principally by several splendid bridges, built 
 upon a succession of arches, and of awful height. 
 The depth to the river below seemed immense, as 
 our snake-like train wound slowly over the tremeih- 
 dous structures — noble specimens of architecture and 
 workmanship. The little dormer-windows, built in 
 the precise shape of an eye, and peeping out from the 
 roof of the village cottage, attracted our particular 
 attention. No fence nor rural hamlet here dots the
 
 128 Memories over the Water. 
 
 surface of this land of military rule. The people 
 cluster in walled towns, protected by turret and 
 tower, whence they hie to their labor at early dawn, 
 to mow their hay and reap their gi-ain. At half past 
 nine o'clock, p. m., we rolled into the station-house 
 at Berlin, and were soon amid a promiscuous crowd 
 of porters, soldiers, cab-drivers and travelers. Taking 
 a "droskic" we rattled away, over well -paved and 
 handsomely-lighted streets, to the " Hotel do Kussie."
 
 CHATTER XIX. 
 
 Our hotel in Berlin was located in the finest por- 
 tion of the city, having for its immediate neighbors 
 the Royal Palace, the Museum, the Arsenal, the 
 Opera House, and the University — all superb build- 
 ings, and many of them adorned with statues of 
 marble and of bronze. The Museum especially com- 
 mended itself to our admiration by the immense and 
 beautiful frescoes which grace the front of this hand- 
 some edifice. They represent the gradual develop- 
 ment of the human intellect and the progressive 
 formation of the universe. The conception of the 
 artist was no less lofty than the execution was ele- 
 gant. A mammoth basin of beautiful granite stands 
 just at the flight of stone steps, wliich lead up into 
 the vestibule, while on the right is the celebrated 
 group in bronze, representing the combat between a 
 mounted Amazon and an enraged tigress. 
 
 On the Monday following a carriage and "valet de 
 
 place" were engaged, and in company with the ladies 
 
 of our party we started out on a search for the sights 
 
 of Berlin. "We first drove out to the low sandhill, 
 
 called the Kroutzbcrg, on whose suumiit is erected an 
 
 iron monuinont, commemorating the victories gained 
 11 (lOo/
 
 130 Memokies over the Watek. 
 
 by the Prussians over the French. The entrance of 
 the inclosure is kept by an old soldier with only one 
 leg ; the other, he will tell you, was carried away by a 
 cannon ball on the field of Waterloo. Next we drove 
 down the " Rue Belle- Yue," on which are situated 
 some of the most beautiful private residences of the 
 city. We stopped on the border of the " Thier Gar- 
 ten," and got out to see the fine marble statue of 
 Frederick William Third, dressed in the plain garb 
 of a private citizen. Thence we drove out to Char- 
 lottenberg, a small village about three miles distant 
 from Berlin, where the palace, denominated the 
 Schloss, is situated, but which, as we know, is not 
 worth the trouble of entering. The chief object of 
 attraction about this village is the Mausoleum of 
 Louisa, Queen of Prussia. We found it an exqui- 
 sitely beautiful Doric temple, resting in a quiet and 
 secluded spot, just at the termination of a long 
 avenue of trees, and built entirely of ]5ure granite of 
 the finest polish. It contains the sarcophagi of the 
 ill-fated Louisa and the late King. The face and 
 form of the unfortunate princess are strikingly beauti- 
 ful, and are said to be a correct likeness. She is 
 represented in the attitude of death, reclining above 
 the marble tomb, with hands meekly folded over her 
 gentle bosom, while a simple and tranquil air of 
 sweet repose lingers upon her lovely features, which 
 is very touching. The body is attired in a plain 
 dress of drapery, which falls in graceful folds about 
 her fair form. Several withered garlands are to be
 
 Memories over the Water. 131 
 
 Boeii upon the walls, which are said to be the first 
 offerings of the children at the grave of their mother. 
 The body of the King is also a line specimen of 
 sculpture, as he reposes by the side of the Queen, 
 with his "martial cloak around him." The effect 
 upon the pure white marble is heightened by the 
 light streaming down from above, through the stained 
 glass, with a pallid, death-like hue. 
 
 Berlin is a very handsome, well-built city. The 
 houses are generally low, and the streets perfectly 
 level. The principal thoroughfare is the "Unter-den 
 Linden," which serves the purpose of both park and 
 street. Near the head of this avenue is a superb 
 monument in brass, with a colossal equestrian statue 
 of Frederick the Great, surmounting tlic handsome 
 pedestal, which is wrought with elaboration and 
 exceeding skill. 
 
 Our next visit was to the Eoyal Palace, of which 
 we made only a rapid and cursory inspection. Our 
 "castellan" we found a jovial fellow, whose facetious 
 remarks enlivened our tramp through the entensive 
 suite of royal apartments. The "White Ilall" is a 
 beautiful room, which had lately been fitted up, as we 
 are told, at the cost of eight hundred thousand dol- 
 lars. The picture-gallery is very fine. We saw there 
 the original of "Napoleon crossing the Alps," by 
 David. Saw Bonaparte's bedroom, occupied by him 
 during his temporaiy residence in Berlin ; and in his 
 chamber were shown a clock which requires winding 
 up only once a year. The apartments are enriched
 
 132 Memokies ovek the Watek. 
 
 by many beautiful and curious pieces of furniture. 
 The floors are elaborately tassellated, their centers 
 being frequently inlaid with ivory. 
 
 Returning to our hotel, we started, by droskie, for 
 the railway station, and took the eleven o'clock train 
 for Potsdam, which is called the Prussian Yersailles, 
 and about twenty miles distant from Berlin. The 
 country traversed was, as usual, level, devoid of either 
 beauty of scenery or fertility of soil. In about one 
 hour we reached the city, containing about thirty 
 thousand inhabitants. The principal object of our 
 visit to Potsdam was to see Baron Alexander Yon 
 Humboldt, the illustrious philosopher and traveler, 
 our Minister at Berlin, Mr. Barnard having kindly 
 furnished us with a letter of introduction. "We found 
 the author of Kosmos posted in very plain apartments 
 in the " Old Palace," and who received us with the 
 greatest kindness and cordiality. The old gentleman 
 was modestlv attired, with a laro-e white cravat about 
 his neck, the only part of his dress at all calculated 
 to attract attention. lie took each one of us by the 
 hand as we entered, invited ns to be seated, and 
 began at once a very animated conversation, referring 
 chiefly to the rising race of American astronomers 
 and philosophers, our Cuban diflSculties, and our late 
 war with Mexico. He spoke very highly of Tennes- 
 see's gifted son. Lieutenant Maury, of the United 
 States' navy, and complimented our country as a 
 nation of enterprise and intelligence. But he thought 
 our war with Mexico unjust, and the spirit of our
 
 Mkmouiks ovKii TiiK WAua:. 133 
 
 people more rapacious than it slioukl be. Tlicrc was 
 soniethinj^ extremely agreeable about his amiable 
 countenance, despite the rather severe but at the 
 same time complimentary criticism on America ; 
 thouf!h Ave tliou<i;ht the renowned traveler was evi- 
 dently falling into the loquacity commonly incident to 
 old age. Bishop Otey requested tlie honor of his 
 autograph, which he very readily granted. It ran 
 thus — "Baron Von Ilumboldt, 83 years old," and was 
 •written in a bold and steady hand for so old a man. 
 We parted, much pleased with this author of world- 
 wide fame — this grave philosopher and gentle old 
 man — whom the nations of the earth admire and 
 praise, and whom everybody loves and venerates. 
 
 "We now drove to the gardens of Charlottenhof, 
 where there is a villa of the present King, built in 
 the same style with the houses of Pompeii. The 
 grounds are beautifully laid out, and abound with 
 every variety of shrub and flower. Next we went to 
 the gardens and Palace of " Sans Souci," lavishly 
 ornamented Avith marble statues, fountains, obelisks, 
 etc. Tiie Palace is situated on the summit of a flight 
 of terraces, to which we sought admission ; but as 
 the King was hourly expected we were not permitted 
 to enter. Saw the spot where the favorite dogs and 
 war-steed of tlie eccentric Emperor Frederick the 
 Great were buried ; and also had the famous wind- 
 mill of historic note pointed out. On our return to 
 the railway station we just missed a sight of the
 
 134 Memoeif.s over the Water. 
 
 King, who had been out to a review of twenty thou- 
 sand of his troops. "We saw, however, his youngest 
 brother and stafi', mounted on horses. The Prince 
 was dressed in a neat-fitting uniform of blue, and sat 
 on his horse with much grace. We met also a large 
 detachment of cavalry returning from the field, and 
 returned to Berlin in the same train with the Com- 
 mander-in-chief of the •Prussian army. 
 
 f
 
 CIIAPTEU XX. 
 
 On the night of the 23d of September, we went to 
 the opera with the expectation of seeing the King and 
 Qneen of Prussia, having understood that it was the 
 intention of their majesties to be there on that occasion. 
 Ill tills, however, we were disappointed. The Opera 
 House at Berlin is an exceedingly handsome edifice, 
 surpassing, in point of convenience and beauty, any- 
 thing of the kind that we had, as yet, seen. The 
 orchestra was very numerous, and composed of the 
 first talent in the country. The audience was, by fiir, 
 the most brilliant we had ever seen, being thickly 
 interspersed with the rich uniforms of the officers of 
 rank in the Prussian army. 
 
 On the following morning we went to the City 
 Hospital, in order to see the method of instructing 
 the Cretins. But the school-hours having been con- 
 cluded we did not care to be admitted, especially as 
 the privilege seemed to be reluctantly granted. This 
 establishment is here carried out on a very extensive 
 scale, and with thorough treatment. The building is 
 a large and handsome structure. While we were at 
 the main entrance they brought one of those unfor- 
 tunate creatures to become an inmate, who was moan- 
 
 (135 )
 
 136 Memokiks over the Water, 
 
 ing and gibbering in liis idiotic suffering ; his mind 
 a perfect blank, devoid of life, of light, of reason, 
 or of hope. 
 
 We now visited the cabinet of curiosities in the 
 Royal Palace, where you are shown relics innumer- 
 able of Frederick the Great ; some of which are of 
 rather a disgusting nature ; for such is the devotion 
 of the Prussian people to the memory of their wamor- 
 king, that they have preserved, as sacred State treas- 
 ures, the garments that he wore, and the handkerchief 
 that he used, during his last illness. The Bishop 
 struck up a few notes on the flute, the same which 
 his highness was wont to play, beguiling with music's 
 holy flow the cares that line the royal brow. As we 
 were not much of an advocate for man-worship, we 
 did not linger here long. 
 
 On our return toward the hotel, lo ! the royal car- 
 riage came rattling, at a rapid rate, down the "Unter- 
 den-Linden," drawn by four spanking blacks. The 
 top was tlirowu back, and seated there were four gen- 
 tlemen — among them the King, conspicuous by a 
 tall bonnet, with a red badge dangling from its top. 
 We turned back to the museum, and had a fair view 
 of his majesty, as he alighted from the carriage. He 
 was dressed in a handsome military suit, and seemed 
 to us quite a dignified, good-looking gentleman ; his 
 manner appearing plain and unassuming before the 
 eyes of his people. His equipage was by no means 
 gaudy, but neat and elegant, lie looked to be a 
 man of about forty years of age, but the locks of gray
 
 Memories over the WATKit. 137 
 
 that shone in his dark hair seemed to speak of early 
 dissipation. The Trincc of Bavaria was with the 
 Kin<>-. having come from his own reahns on a visit to 
 his royal Iriend. As we again turned homeward we 
 encountered the carriage of the Queen, drawn by six 
 grays, and preceded by two outriders, mounted on 
 horses likewise gray. "We were favored with a lair 
 view of the Queen, and also of the Princess of 
 Bavaria, who sat by her side. 
 
 At Berlin our traveling party was broken up. On 
 the morning of the 26th, Bishop Otey, Mrs. Eakin, 
 Miss Boss, with little "Willie, left Berlin in the six 
 o'clock A. Ji. train, bound direct for Paris. At seven 
 o'clock A. M., of the same day, Fogg and ourself took 
 the cars and started Southward toward the Saxon 
 capital. The journey was made, for the most part, 
 over a flat and uninteresting country, with nothing to 
 break its dead monotony, save the venerable old 
 windmills, with their long arms whirling in tlie air. 
 To add to the discomforts of the day, a cold and 
 driving shower commenced falling, compelling us to 
 sliut down the windows of the car, and thereby sub- 
 jecting ourselves to the suflbcating fumes of the Ger- 
 man smokers, who plied their numberless cigars and 
 incessant jargon, enough to craze any man of ordi- 
 nary powers of endurance. But on leaving Riesa, 
 about twenty miles from Dresden, the whole aspect 
 of nature changed. The heavens became clear and 
 cloudless, the sun shone cheerily down, and instead 
 of the bleak waste of barren plain, the eye now
 
 138 Memories over the "Water. 
 
 brightened over a lovely landscape, pleasantl}'' diver- 
 sified by neat villages, vine-clad-hills and white 
 chateans. On our left the sails of the river-craft 
 were glittering in the rays of the sun, as they moved 
 lazily over the bosom of the muddy Elbe, down 
 whose valley we were speeding. But away we dash, 
 the hoofs of our iron steed rin^-ino; on the rail, and 
 soon the four tall spires of Dresden town are seen 
 pointing high into the blue concave of heaven. At 
 half-past twelve we were deposited at the station, and 
 thence we drove immediately to the "Hotel de 
 France," crossing over the Elbe into Dresden proper, 
 by a fine, substantial bridge. Dined at one o'clock, 
 and immediately after visited the celebrated gallery of 
 paintings, ranking above the collections of both Berlin 
 and Munich, inasmuch as these apartments contain 
 many rare productions of "the old masters," with 
 other works of " vertu." Within a series of outward 
 rooms there is also an interior gallery, containing a 
 rare and costly collection. Having at last concluded 
 our survey we next strolled over the town. The 
 streets we found narrow and dirty, and the houses 
 high and dingy, like the smoky buildings of London. 
 In our peregrination we ascended the "Terrace," 
 overhanging the river Elbe, and found it to be a 
 favorite evening resort for the citizens of both sexes. 
 Entered a beautiful little temple overlooking the river, 
 which combined, witliin itself, both coffee-house and 
 concert room. Here the citizen, whose leisure may 
 admit, may sit and si]) his coffee, and at the same
 
 Memories over the Water. 139 
 
 time list to the strains of music. Nurses, with bevies 
 of flaxen-haired children, ramble about under the 
 thick shade of the trees without, and all is one ani- 
 mated scene of happiness and content. 
 
 Next we went to the theater, a very handsome 
 stone building of circular form, situated just on tlie 
 right as you cross the stone bridge into Dresden. 
 Wo entered the parterre of this fashionable temple of 
 Thespis, and found the audience full, and fair looking 
 in the main. But the performance was in German, 
 and so not comprehending the wit of the comedy, (at 
 which, however, those about us seemed provokingly 
 pleased,) we were quite rejoiced when the unintel- 
 ligible jargon was concluded, and the curtain fell. 
 We now sought our hotel through the busy unknown 
 streets, and thus closed our first day in the capital of 
 Saxony.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 "While in Dresden we desired very much to see 
 the famous " Green Vault," where the State jewels 
 are kept, but the limited number of tickets having 
 been already issued for that day, we could not gain 
 admission. "We visited however the fine establish- 
 ment of porcelain -ware, and then crossing over the 
 bridge we strolled over the greater portion of Dres- 
 den lying beyond the river. Returning to the hotel, 
 we paid up our bills, changed our loose money from 
 the Prussian to the Austrian currency, (making a 
 considerable profit by the discount of the latter,) took 
 a cab, and started again for the railway depot. At 
 a quarter past one o'clock, p. m., we were on our way 
 to Prague. The scenery was exceedingly beautiful, 
 as we skirted along the right bank of the river Elbe, 
 whose winding course we followed for many hours. 
 As we dashed on the delighted eye danced merrily 
 over the high conical rocks, craggy blufl's, and white- 
 walled towns of this " Saxon Switzerland." Occa- 
 sionally a lonely cross, or moldering tower, perched 
 high up on the dreamy old hills, would come and 
 vanish before our gaze, as we sped along the deep 
 and narrow valley. About dusk we reached a small 
 
 ( 140 )
 
 Memokii-js uvkk tiik Watku. 141 
 
 village, whose immu wc do not rciiifiiilH']', Imt wlierc 
 tliu valley suddenly spreads out into a broad and 
 level basin. Here the lamps in our cars were lighted 
 to dispel the darkness of night, which was drawing 
 rapidly on. 
 
 On our way down from Dresden to Prague we 
 struck up an acquaintance with a young officer of 
 the Austrian Army, who, having resided for several 
 years in England, was perfectly conversant with the 
 language of that country, and having discovered that 
 we were from the distant shores of America, he 
 seemed disposed to make some use of his accom- 
 plishment. "We accordingly entered into conversa- 
 tion, by which we casually learned that he had been 
 engaged in the Hungarian struggle, which led us to 
 make some inquiries relative to the war. We found 
 him, however, not at all willing to speak on the sub- 
 ject, inasmuch as the government regarded all those 
 found conversing thereon among the suspicious and 
 the disafi'ected. lie advised us moreover, so long as 
 we were in the Austrian dominions, neither to speak 
 of Hungary, nor even to mention the name of Kos- 
 suth or of any other Hungarian refugee ; for that we 
 would thereby excite the distrust of the national 
 police, and probabl}' subject ourselves to imprison- 
 ment. He denounced Kossuth as more an agitator 
 than a patriot — more an orator than a soldier. He 
 was very minute in his inquiries relative to slavery 
 in America, and could not understand how we, pro- 
 fessing so much sympathy for the nations of Europe,
 
 142 Memories over the Water. 
 
 who were struggling i'or their livcdoui, should yet 
 hold millions in absolute subjection in our own land. 
 Neither could we convince him that it was more a 
 case of necessity than of option. But we found that, 
 in Austria, to canvass the acts of government was 
 among the number of unpardonable sins, and all tliat 
 the subject is required to do is — to be mum and obey. 
 Liberty of speech seemed especially prohibited, and 
 it was most strange to us that where such restrictions 
 were imposed, the citizens should remain so quiet 
 and apparently content. 
 
 We reached Prague about twenty minutes past 
 nine, and after passport and baggage were examined, 
 we took a carriage for the "Blue Star." Ko rooms 
 were vacant, and so we drove to the " Golden Angel," 
 who sheltered us beneath its wings for the night. 
 But on the following morning we became satisfied 
 that we were not possessed of such angelic accommo- 
 dations as we had been led to expect, and so calling 
 up the "garcon," we had accounts forthwith squared; 
 and again marched over to the "Blue Star," which 
 we now found more propitious than on the past even- 
 ing. Breakfast over, we next repaired to the " Hotel 
 D'Angleterre," where we found several gentlemen, 
 whose acquaintance we had previously formed by 
 contact in our line of travel — among the number 
 were Col. Wm. Hart, Kentucky, and Lieutenants 
 Boudinot, Bent and Gwathmey, of the U. S. Kavy, 
 With them we started out on an indefinite stroll over 
 the city. First we took up the handsome street,
 
 Memokiks ovi:ii the Watek. 143 
 
 whereon the'^lJlue Star" is situated, iim I a i'ur pro- 
 ceeding: several liiiiRlrcd yards, we turned uij to the 
 lelV, following a very broad and liaudsomc thorough- 
 fare, whereon we Ibund several fountains and statues 
 ornamenting its center. This street is abruptly ter- 
 minated by the fortiiications of the city. Mounting 
 on the high walls we bore off to the right, making a 
 semicircle to the banks of the rapid Moldau, which 
 divides in twain the old city of Prague. Keeping 
 down the river we erelong came to the monument of 
 the late Emperor Francis. This bronze equestrian 
 statue stands within a beautiful gothic tower, and 
 encircling the base of the pedestal are various alle- 
 gorical figures, representing the different callings of 
 the Bohemian people. Turning back a few paces we 
 crossed over the Moldau, which is here a broad and 
 shallow stream. The suspension bridge is a long 
 and substantial structure, being supported in the 
 center by a stone pillar, resting on a small island in 
 the middle of the stream. In the meanwhile, how- 
 ever, we had lost siglit of Boudinot and Gwathmey, 
 and so the remainder of our party, numbering four 
 engaged a carriage and ascended to the "IL-adschin" 
 — the place of the old Bohemian Kings. On the 
 ascent our attention was drawn to many queer old 
 buildings, with gigantic statues standing on each 
 Bide of the doorway, and represented as supporting 
 the massive masonry on their bare and brawny 
 shoulders. A heavy Irown generally lowers upon 
 their brows, as though a sullen and angry feeling
 
 144 Memories over the Water. 
 
 possessed their hearts, that they should be compelled 
 perpetually to bear so weighty a burden. Reaching 
 the " Hradshin " we were first shown into the room, 
 where the Bohemian emperors were crowned. It is 
 a handsome apartment only, with none of that splen- 
 dor which is seen in the palaces of Paris, Munich, 
 Berlin, etc. Next we entered "the green room," 
 and saw the window through which the two unpop- 
 ular nobles Slawata and Martinitz, with their Secre- 
 tary, Fabricius, were ejected after the "Bohemian 
 style." One of these, it is said, on falling upon the 
 head of a peasant passing by, got up and politely 
 begged pardon for his unceremonious descent. From 
 this same old window we looked out upon one of the 
 finest views we ever beheld. The white-walled city 
 of Prague, containing one hundred and twenty thou- 
 sand souls, lay snugly at rest in a circular vallej^, 
 with the sleepy old hills rising gradually up on every 
 side, and stretching their sunny summits far away 
 in the distance. Receding on either side of the 
 river bank rose, tier, by tier, the handsome white 
 buildings, all reposing in pensive slumbers — all 
 bathed in golden sunshine — all blushing in autum- 
 nal beauty. 
 
 We now turned to visit the old Cathedral, rich in 
 gotliic ornament, and moss-grown and dim with age. 
 We looked with reverence on turret and spire of 
 that venerable old pile, and thought how great the 
 sacrilege that the Emperor Frederick should have 
 made that ancient churcli the target for his artillery.
 
 Memories over the Water. 145 
 
 The interior of the l»nildiii2: still retains somethinir 
 of its former beauty and magnificence. In the body 
 of the church stands the Imperial Mausoleum, erected 
 by lludolf the 2d, as the receptacle for his own 
 body after death. The Shrine of St. John Nepomuk 
 displays an immense profusion of silver, and is con- 
 sidered one of the richest in the world. The ever- 
 burning lamps hang above the coffin of the saint, 
 which is represented as borne aloft by four winged 
 angels, the size of life and of unadulterated silver. 
 Among the relics contained in this church are said 
 to be — "portions of the bones of Abraham, Isaac and 
 Jacob ; the pocket-handkerchief of the Virgin Mary ; 
 a piece of the true cross, inclosing a bit of the sponge, 
 which was placed on a hyssop ; two thorns of the 
 crown of thorns ; one of the palm branches that were 
 strewed in our Saviour's way, with an immense 
 number of similar curiosities, equally authentic and 
 valualile." 
 12
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 On our descent from the " Ilradsliin" we crossed 
 over the Moldau by the massive old stone bridge, 
 which measures one thousand seven hundred and 
 ninety feet in length, and is ornamented on either 
 side with twenty-eight statues of various saints. 
 Many of these figures, however, have been disman- 
 tled — some of the uplifted arm, some of the reverend 
 head, and some otherwise disfigured by "the accident 
 of flood and field." 
 
 Having dined at the " Blue Star," we next visited 
 the Jewish synagogue and cemetery, which we found 
 situated in a difierent part of the city, thickly crowded 
 with houses, and densely populated with the dark- 
 eyed sons of Judah. Their place of worship was 
 built under-ground, and service was being performed 
 when we arrived. As we descended into this gloomy, 
 dungeon-like synagogue, we intuitively pulled off our 
 hat, but immediately replaced it at the request of one 
 of tlie congregation, all of whom, we observed, had 
 their heads covered. The venerable old priest was 
 engaged in the performance of the ancient rites of the 
 Hebrew worship ; and as we gazed around on those 
 
 dark and swarthy faces, in the dim light of the dnst- 
 (\4G)
 
 Memokies over TriE Waticu. 147 
 
 covered room, we could but feel a compassionate 
 regard for that unhappy race, who thus clung to the 
 wayward faith of their fathers, denying the Saviour 
 of the world, and still anticipating the advent of their 
 Messiah. As we advanced toward the altar, the 
 con^-recation, observing that we were strangers, would 
 politely give way, that we might draw as near as we 
 wished. Through a few narrow, loophole windows, 
 we looked into an adjoining apartment, and there saw 
 the female audience assembled, no woman being 
 allowed the privilege of the sanctuary. "We looked 
 with great interest on the worship of these children 
 of Israel, and only left when hurried away by our 
 companions to visit the burying-grounds above. 
 This ancient resting-place of the Jewish dead presents 
 a most lonely and singular appearance, with its gray 
 old tombstones falling to decay, and thickly over- 
 grown with a dense underwood of the gnarled and 
 twisted elders. As we left this cm-ions city of the 
 dead, the dark shadows of night were gathering about 
 the desolate graves, and the melancholy cricket was 
 chirping his evening song beneath the matted grass. 
 
 On the following morning we were aroused accord- 
 ing to order, about four o'clock, and having dressed, 
 taken a cup of cofiee, paid up our bills, and bade 
 adieu to our accomplished landlord, we started off 
 a-foot, with "garcon" bearing our luggage in the van, 
 leading the way toward the railway station. Bag- 
 gage deposited, tickets secured, and " boots" having 
 received his tarewcU bonus, for which ho wished us
 
 148 Memories oyer the Water. 
 
 the usual "bon voyage," we were soon moving 
 toward the Austrian capital. The entire route was 
 one of charming beauty and varied interest. Now 
 we were dashing along by gently rolling meadows, in 
 their mantle of waning green ; now winding along 
 the tortuous course of some brawling mountain 
 stream ; and now shooting through a succession of 
 dark tunnels, hewn out of the living rock. About 
 four o'clock, p. M., we reached the city of Brunn, not 
 far from which was fought the battle of Austerlitz. 
 Here we chan2;ed our indifferent cars and slow- 
 moving train for most excellent carriages and winged 
 engine, and went rushing on toward the city of 
 Yienna. Out on our left arose the dark and wooded 
 heights of the Carpathian mountains, while on our 
 right slowly sank the setting sun, shedding its light 
 and mellow rays o'er the auburn hills, the deep-blue 
 mountains, and numerous tidy, white-walled towns. 
 In our route we passed through a portion of Hungary, 
 whose late struggle against the Austrian dynasty 
 created such a sympathetic commotion in the hearts 
 of our own countrymen. When a few miles from 
 Vienna, we crossed over the Danube, and soon after 
 entered the Paris of Austria, containing a population 
 of four hundred thousand ; the same number as the 
 capital of Prussia. From current accounts, we had 
 anticipated here a very rigorous examination of pass- 
 port and baggage, and had prepared ourself quietly 
 to submit to whatever annoyance the city police 
 might impose. We were, however, agreeably sur-
 
 Memories oveu the "Watek. 149 
 
 ])riscd to find the ofiiccrs extremely courteous, and \>y 
 no means so suspicious of onr purposes as we hud 
 been led to suppose. Only a cursory glance was 
 civen to our accouterments, and we were suffered to 
 
 try ' 
 
 proceed. Getting into a cab, we sung out — "Hotel 
 Munsch;" when our driver sprang to his scat, gave 
 his good steed the word, dashed away through the 
 devious streets, and soon drew rein in the courtyard 
 of the hotel designated. And thus were a couple of 
 "modern travelers" safely deposited in the city of 
 Vienna — having, in the course of one month, trav- 
 ersed tiiousands of miles, and looked on more than it 
 usually falls to the lot of man to see in a lifetime — 
 nor yet undergone that singular metamorphose from 
 the plain and unassuming citizen to the nondescript 
 animal, which has been represented as " lisping 
 broken English," with heels full of polka and head 
 full of nonsense, an abomination unto men, but an 
 Adonis unto ladies.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 On our arrival at the city of Vienna, our first pro- 
 ceeding, on the following day, was to climb the lofty 
 steeple of the Cathedral of St. Stephen, from whose 
 summit we had a splendid panoramic view of the ele- 
 gant city and its handsome environs. While on our 
 way to the cathedral, we saw what our guide-books 
 called, " the tree of iron," This memento of the past 
 is nothing more than the trunk of a tree, about six feet 
 in length, and posted on one of the public corners of 
 the city. Its entire exterior surface is covered with 
 the heads of iron spikes, driven in by the wandering 
 apprentices of Vienna. It seems that it was the 
 custom of those mechanics, who, when they had 
 served out tlie term of their apprenticeship, sought 
 their fortunes in a distant land, first to repair to this 
 " iron tree," and drive therein a nail. When we saw 
 this ancient trunk it looked like some venerable old 
 warrior, clad "cap-a-pie" in his coat of mail, and even 
 more impervious than the Grecian hero, whose unfor- 
 tunate heel was left sticking out when his mother, 
 Thetis, plunged him into the river Styx. 
 
 But arriving at the Cathedral, we began the ascent 
 
 of its sky-piercing tower, which is said to be four 
 (1 50 ) '
 
 Memories over the "Water. 151 
 
 hundred and sixty-five feet in height. On a clear day 
 the scope of the horizon, from this elevated point, 
 extends not only over the city and its suburbs, but 
 embraces in its wide compass the battle-fields of 
 Lobau, Wagram, Asperne, and Essling, where clashed 
 the contending armies of France and the Allied 
 Powers, during the bloody exhibition of the Napo- 
 leonic drama. Ilulf way up the tower is the station 
 of the city fire- watch, from which the sleepless sentinel 
 looks out over the city, and whence the Count Stahrem- 
 berg was wont, with liis field-glass, to reconnoiter the 
 camp of the besieging Turks, until from the height of 
 the Kahlenberg, the christian banner was unfurled by 
 John Sobieski, bringing welcome deliverance to the 
 beleaguered city. The spire of St. Stephen stands a 
 lofty guide to the bewildered stranger in Vienna. It 
 is the central focus point of this circular city, whence 
 the streets radiate like the fibers of the spider's web. 
 Descending from the tower we next visited the 
 Imperial Arsenal, where is an unnumbered collection 
 of all manner of arms, so arranged as to beautify and 
 adorn the long galleries, and yet ready for service o,t 
 a moment's warning. This magazine of military 
 stores far surpasses, in extent, the armory in the tower 
 of London. "We saw here many ancient relics, such 
 as banners, and suits of armor that were once worn 
 by illustrious persons. Among them was the bull- 
 coat of Gustavus Adolphus, pierced by the bullet 
 which caused his death at the battle of Lutzen. Unfor- 
 tunately the hole ?s in the haclc of the cuat. Leav-
 
 152 Memories oyer the Water. 
 
 ing this unlucky memento of the King we came to an 
 immense pile of rusty muskets, taken up from the 
 battle-fields of the late IIun2;arian war. AYe were 
 told by the guide that many of them were still loaded . 
 With this we concluded our visit, and thence strolled 
 out upon the broad open space, which extends like a 
 band about the interior city, and called by the citi- 
 zens the " Glacis." It serves as a handsome park 
 and promenade, and has been aptly termed "the 
 lungs of Vienna." Thence we proceeded to the 
 " Yolks-garten " — the evening resort of the city — 
 and saw there the colossal group of Theseus killing 
 the Centaur, by the hand of the immortal Canova. 
 This much-admired sculpture is placed in a small 
 temple, erected exclusively for its reception, and into 
 which we were admitted, by slipping a few kreutzers 
 into the willing hand of the guard, who kept the 
 key of the building. The execution of this work is 
 very fine ; the eflect striking and impressive. Theseus 
 is represented with his left knee planted against the 
 breast of the exhausted Centaur, his left-hand grasp- 
 ing the neck, while in his right he brandishes a club. 
 The muscles of the body are all beautifully developed, 
 and the proportions combine strength with activity of 
 limb. On the brow of the Athenian hero is written 
 vengeance and undaunted courage. 
 
 At 7 o'clock wc repaired to the opera, and wit- 
 nessed the performance of "Robert Le Diable." The 
 fine music wc could, of course, enjoy, but only 
 regretted tliat we could not understand the words ; the
 
 Memories oveu the Water. 153 
 
 opera being originally French, but translated into the 
 German. The audience was full ; the music superb ; 
 the dancing delightful, and the scenic effect, at the 
 opening of the ballet, beautiful beyond conception. 
 In the scene just preceding the ballet you look upon 
 the lonely graveyard, the white tombstones glimmer- 
 ing in the pale rays of the moon, and a death-like 
 stillness prevailing over the soft-winged hours of 
 night. But as you gaze upon the dreamy solitude, 
 a tall and stately figure, robed in a garment of white, 
 with slow and solemn step approaches the dwelling 
 place of the dead. Ko murmur escapes his lips; no 
 sound from the measured footfall strikes upon the ear. 
 Pausing now he waves his long and slender wand 
 
 O CD 
 
 above the cold, gray tombs, and lo ! their marble lids 
 
 are lifted up, and the very blood within your veins 
 
 seems freezing round the heart, as the pale forms of 
 
 the shrouded dead rise, with a cold and fixed gaze, 
 
 upon their feet. But just here a loud crash of 
 
 music breaks upon the ear, the glittering lamps throw 
 
 a flood of light upon the stage, and dashing aside the 
 
 vesture of the grave, about forty beautiful girls, like 
 
 a trooping band of angels, flash upon your sight, and 
 
 float gayly through the dance. At the conclusion, the 
 
 devil, disappointed in obtaining his victim, suddenly 
 
 descends into the infernal regions, amid the flashing 
 
 of unearthly flames ; and the woman, his guardian 
 
 angel, and apparently the queen of his heart, leads 
 
 him triumphantly away to have their happy nuptials 
 
 celebrated in the presence of the King and Queen. 
 13
 
 154 Memories over the Water. 
 
 On the following day we went to see the Imperial 
 Picture Gallery, called the "Belvidere," The situa- 
 tion of this beautiful edifice is very fine, commanding 
 an excellent view of Vienna. The grounds arc well 
 laid ofi'and abound in flowers, fountains and statuary. 
 The collection of paintings in the palace is very exten- 
 sive, and some of the sculpture exquisitely beautiful. 
 Especially chaste and pure was the gi'oup of "Isaac 
 and Rebecca," and also the figure of "Morning," 
 coming from the east with her long and flowing mantle, 
 the star upon her forehead, and the bough within her 
 hand. Eeturned to the hotel, and after dinner we 
 strolled around the city, along by the high and frown- 
 ing ramparts, whose bastion and redoubt arc planted 
 with cannon and guarded by soldiery.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 While in Yieuna we called upou our Minister, 
 Mr. McCurdy, of Connecticut, and were hospitably 
 received by himself, his fair daughter, and his secre- 
 tary. On the afternoon of the same day we took our 
 seat in an omnibus at the door of our hotel, and 
 visited the palace of Schonbrunn, the summer resi- 
 dence of the Emperor, situated about two miles fi-om 
 the city. Here Napoleon made his quarters in 1809 ; 
 and here his son, the Duke of Eeichstadt, died, in 
 IS 32, at the age of twenty-one, and in the same room 
 and in the same bed, it is said, that his father had 
 occupied. The gardens are most magnificently laid 
 ofi", and elegantly adorned with the greatest profusion 
 of statuary, and a number of splendid fountains, fish- 
 ponds, and waterfalls. It was in these gardens that 
 the German student Stapps, attempted the life of 
 Napoleon, while strolling through the grounds, and 
 for his temerity was shot down and buried on the 
 spot. Just on the summit of the rising ground in 
 the rear of the Palace, and overlooking the beautiful 
 grounds below, is situated the "Gloriettc," a hand- 
 some structure, built in the style of a triumphal 
 arch. From the summit of this monument we had a 
 
 (155)
 
 156 Mehokies over the Water. 
 
 charming view of Vienna and the adjacent country. 
 Leaving Sclioubrunn we now strolled down to the 
 villao-e of Ilitzing, and rested at the "Casino Dom- 
 maycr," where the ruralizing Viennese come to 
 breathe the country air, and while they sip their ices 
 and coffee, to list to the enchanting strains of Strauss' 
 Band, which here, about the hour of sunset, discourse 
 their inspiring music. Before leaving Vienna we had 
 visited everything that was worthy of note, among 
 other things the Cabinet of Antiquities, and the 
 Church of San Augustine, famous for its celebrated 
 mourning group at the sepulcher of Christina. 
 Prominent among our recollections of Vienna was 
 the kind and civil conduct of our gentlemanly land- 
 lord, Mr. Munsch, and the cool and impudent bearing 
 of the rascally commissioner of the hotel. Each and 
 every traveler who comes in contact with this mealy- 
 mouthed valet, votes him without exception the vilest 
 and most deceitful dog that goes unhung. As for 
 ourself, we may well say that we left the fair city of 
 Vienna both "a sadder and a wiser man," and 
 among the many lessons we had learned in our trans- 
 atlantic travel was the truth of that old Latin 
 maxim — '-'• Ccdura non animum mutant qui trans 
 mare currunty But " live and learn" was our ever- 
 consoling motto, and so, with a light heart, we again 
 went forth in quest of other scenes and other adven- 
 tures, amid difierent people and in diflerent lands. 
 Our wings were now plumed for the sunny plains of 
 Italy, where from the pall of the past spring themes
 
 Mkmokiks ovkk TiiK Waikk. 157 
 
 for lofty thought — where glory and valor and song had 
 birth, and where immortal heroes of classic memory 
 had their homes, by the shores of the "Yellow Tiber" 
 and the gentle Arno. Our heart was swelling with 
 pleasant memories, fresh from the pages of Virgil, of 
 Horace, and of Cicero ; and our very spirit leaped 
 within us as the strong-limbed iron steed dashed out 
 from the handsome depot, and sped onward toward 
 "that child of sorrow and that land of sons." Soon 
 after leaving Vienna we passed through Baden, the 
 great watering-place of Austria, and thence held on 
 our course toward Glocknitz, winding mostly along 
 the bed of some mountain stream, through valley and 
 gorge, watli old ruins innumerable capping the pine- 
 clad hills above us. A ride of a few hours brought 
 us to the Glocknitz, and here we changed our cars for 
 the omnibus, by which to cross the Semmering Alp, 
 which was then being partly graded and partly tun- 
 neled for the passage of the cars over its lofty height. 
 Never can we forget the highly amusing and ridicu- 
 lous confusion that we experienced in the change 
 from the train to the coaches. Immediately that the 
 cars stopped, the most of the passengers rushed out 
 and secured their seats in the omnibuses, filling up 
 most of them, which as soon as they had received 
 their complement of persons, forthwith drove on. 
 Friend Fogg and ourself, having been delayed for 
 some time about our baggage, began to be apprehen- 
 sive lest all the scats might be taken before us, and 
 we be left behind. Indeed we began in confusion.
 
 158 Memories over the Water. 
 
 and concluded in "confusion worse confounded." 
 "We could speak only the fewest words of German, 
 and were compelled to rely upon our wits and the 
 motions of the crowd about us to direct our own 
 movements. So, on reaching our destination, Fogg 
 approaching a stranger with a huge moustache — who, 
 by the way, was a jovial son of Neptune, Lieutenant 
 Jones, of the United States' navy — and taking him to 
 be a German, and one who could not understand 
 English, says Fogg — "Glocknitz, Glocknitz?" look- 
 ing Jones in the face, and pointing through the win- 
 dows of the car to the town without. " Yaw ! yaw !" 
 returned Jones, encouraging the mistake, and looking 
 as grave as a deacon. Thereupon our two "modern 
 travelers" got out, and after being bothered for a con- 
 siderable time about our baggage, we next bethought 
 ourselves of a seat in an omnibus. For some time 
 we searched in vain. All the seats were compactly 
 filled, and omnibus after omnibus rattled away, until 
 we began to grow desperate. Now these cumbrous 
 old diligences are curiously constructed. The body 
 of the coach is divided off into several partitions, and 
 among these was one division just behind, and capa- 
 ble of containing only two persons. It so happened 
 that Fogg, in his search for a seat, had found a 
 diligence, in whose rear apartment was a single 
 German traveler. Without more ado, he possessed 
 himself of this remaining vacant seat. But Fogg and 
 ourself were traveling on the same "through ticket," 
 and as this last diligence drove off, he called to us
 
 Memories ovek the Water. 159 
 
 that this was our only chance, at the same time 
 making as much room for us as possible at his side. 
 No sooner said than we piled in on our friend of 
 " Fader-land," without the first word of apology or 
 preliminary notice, and there we were, a precious trio, 
 rammed as tight as wax within the naiTOw inclosure. 
 Upon being thus unceremoniously crowded, the Ger- 
 man's face grew red with ire, and volley after volley 
 of Dutch abuse he poured upon us. But not compre- 
 hending one word of his violent tirade, save the 
 constant repetition of the "zwei persons" — signifying 
 two persons — we paid not the least attention to his 
 increasing wrath, and were only intent on learning 
 whether all was right with us. The German's choler 
 was now waxing louder and stronger, and we were in 
 momentary expectation of his attempting to expel us 
 "vi et armis" from the coach. But our own equa- 
 nimity had been a little ruffled, and we were just in 
 the humor, provided the son of a Dutchman had 
 resorted to any physical arguments, to have seized 
 him by the nape of the neck and tumbled him " heels 
 over head" out of the door. In this delectable con- 
 dition we had ridden, we suppose, about one mile, 
 when suddenly recollecting the custom of German 
 traveling, we turned to our companion and said — 
 "But, Fogg, have you changed our ticket?" "No! 1 
 have not," was the curt reply. " Then, by the piper! 
 we are in a pretty mess," we returned. ""Well, we 
 must go back, that's all," quoth Fogg, and suiting 
 the action to the word, he bounced out, and went
 
 IGO Memokiks oveu tiij': Watek. 
 
 tearing back, like uuul, to the office we liiid just left, 
 his overcoat dan<2,ling on his arm, and flying in the 
 wind. Now as we were both traveling on the same 
 ticket, and Fogg had that, we concluded we would 
 have to follow, and so, without even bidding our 
 German friend good morning, we also jumped out, 
 gathered up ourself upon our legs, and made an efibrt 
 to follow. But just here, with the rear of our flying 
 friend in full view, and our choleric companion 
 behind us, our sense of the ridiculous came so per- 
 suasively upon us that we gave over the chase, laugh- 
 ing heartily at our condition, and perfectly reconciled 
 to anything that might now turn up. But the 
 doughty Dutchman concluded in his own mind that 
 we had been put to flight by his valorous words, 
 when in truth we had heard but little and heeded less 
 of what he said. On again coming up to the office, 
 we found friend Fogg pale from his rapid exercise, 
 and panting between every word, as he endeavored to 
 explain to the German officer our dilemma, while he, 
 equally mystified, bounced about, jabbering his jaw- 
 breaking German. This was too much for our com- 
 posure, and despite our predicament, we sat down 
 and laughed until we could hardly move. In the 
 end, our misfortune turned out not so serious as we 
 had imagined. Another omnibus was procured, and 
 in due time we overhauled those who had gone 
 on before us.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 On reaching the foot of the Semmering Alp, we 
 dismounted and commenced the ascent of the moun- 
 tain-pass afoot, outstripping the cumbrous coaches 
 by short tacks and brisk walking. The summit of 
 the Semmerinsc is estimated at three thousand one 
 hundred and twenty-five feet above sea level. At 
 ''Murzzuschlag Stat," the railway depot on the southern 
 side of the mountain, Ave again took the cars, and 
 went rattlincj along the banks of the Mur, whose bold 
 and lofty views, standing out in clear relief against 
 the sky, make glad the heart, as the delighted eye 
 glances along the proud mountain scenery. About 
 nightfall we passed by the city of Gratz, the capital 
 of Styria, and containing about forty thousand inhab- 
 itants. We traveled all that night, and about day- 
 break on the following morning we reached Laybach. 
 Here the railway terminated, and taking " the post" 
 at six o'clock we bolted right on lor Trieste. The 
 country, through which we passed, abounded still in 
 beautiful views, many of them receiving the cluinn of 
 romance by the battlemented walls of some old feudal 
 castle, tiiat, like a grim sentinel, sat moldering and 
 
 lonely upon the isolated hills. We nuiy not forget 
 
 (IGl)
 
 1G3 Memories over the Water. 
 
 the fair lady whom we had as a traveling companion 
 — a pleasant, affable and intelligent German, with blue 
 eves and brown hair, who had been on a visit to a 
 friend, who lived beyond the Semmering, and was now 
 homeward bound, alone and unprotected, to her res- 
 idence on the Gulf of Venice. She spoke the French 
 language with perfect fluency, and with that ease and 
 " abandon " of manner, so peculiar to the fair travelers 
 of France ; she entered into conversation with us, by 
 which we managed very pleasantly to while away the 
 weary hours. As night came on our fair incognito 
 opened a small carpet-bag, and taking tlierefrom a 
 couple of close-fitting traveling bonnets, she put on one 
 herself, and handed the other to us, suggesting that we 
 would find it more comfortable for sleeping than our 
 hat. "With our kindest thanks for her considerate 
 courtesy, the bonnet immediately usurped the place of 
 our beaver ; an exchange which fully verified the 
 words of our pretty companion, and rendered doubly 
 agreeable by the reflection that her own sweet face and 
 dimpled cheeks had often nestled within the same 
 soft, silken folds, wherein our own caput was now so 
 snugly ensconced. A few hours rolled quietly by, 
 and after a lono; and wearisome ascent, our driver 
 stopped to give his horses a breathing-spell, and the 
 lady observed that we were now in view of Trieste. 
 We had, indeed, reached the summit of the mountain, 
 which, rising up immediately in the rear of the city, 
 looks out upon the Gulf of Venice. That name, like 
 a magnetic shock, aroused us from our drowsy mood.
 
 Memories over the Water. 163 
 
 .and we spran^^ out of tlio diligence to view the 
 noble scene that lay spread before us. All earth was 
 cradled upon the bosom of night. The moon and the 
 stars, from out their azure home, shone serenely down 
 on city, gulf and mountain. The lamps, along the 
 margin of the water, reflected their glowing rays out 
 upon the placid surface of the Adriatic, that like a 
 mass of molten silver stretched far away, until sky 
 and water blended. In fine we had crossed the proud 
 Alps, and standing on the last spur of the Carnic chain, 
 by the light of the loving moon we first hailed "the 
 bright clime of battle and of song." lie who, from 
 his early youth, hath loitered among academic shades, 
 treading tiic quiet courts of the Goddess Minerva, 
 whose spirit hath been ever straying amid the deep, 
 dim shadows of the past, and lingering long above the 
 classic clime of Italy, where 
 
 «'A thousand years their cloudy wings expand, 
 And a dying glory smiles — " 
 
 he may know the throng of busy fancies that hurried 
 throu'di our heart, as in the stillness of that autumn 
 night we first looked out upon the waters of the 
 Adriatic. 
 
 " Cold is the heart, fair land, that looks on thee, 
 Nor feels as lovers o'er the dust they loved I" 
 
 As the old patriarch of Judah, from the hoary brow 
 of Fisgah, gazed upon the 'laud of promise,' so did 
 our exultant eye go forth to greet this embodiment of 
 our early dreams. But, unlike the great lawgiver, 
 our foot was not forbidden to press that classic ground,
 
 164 JNIemokiks ovek the Water. 
 
 where every step is sacred in history and song, and 
 from whose every vale and mountain wake memories 
 of the past. Far away in our western home, across 
 the roUino; billows of the broad Atlantic, our budding 
 thoughts were wont to seek this very land, and like 
 some lone spirit of the unburied dead haunt its sad 
 and holy beauties. 
 
 But our horses are rested, and the impatient coach- 
 man is calling for us to mount. It may be that our 
 rough friend is anxious to get down into the city, and 
 receive the warm welcome of his wife and children. 
 He may, even now, have before his eyes the pictures 
 of his happy fireside, and so we will no longer delay. 
 "All aboard !" and again we are in motion, lumbering 
 down the tortuous mountain road, until we reached 
 the city walls. Admission gained we proceeded on 
 our way, and draw up at the diligence depot, whence 
 we must foot it to the " Hotel National," situated just 
 upon the margin of the Gulf. 
 
 Having slept but little for several nights previous, 
 on arriving at Trieste we found ourself considerably 
 exhausted, and the sun was high in the heavens on 
 the following morning when we awoke. Breakfast 
 over we started out for a long stroll over the city. We 
 found it a busy and thriving place, reminding us, in 
 its activity and trade, more of an American city than 
 any we had seen on the continent. The docks were 
 filled with vessels of every class, and the sailors of 
 all nations were busily engaged in receiving and 
 discharging their costly cargoes. Here you may hear
 
 Memokiks ovek tiik "Watkii. 165 
 
 . VI rv hiugnagG and view every costume. Trieste is, 
 in fact, the great "entire port" lor all southern 
 Germany, and is ra])idly despoiling Venice of what- 
 ever trade she may, at this day, possess. The popu- 
 lation of Trieste is necessarily of a motley character — 
 being a free port — and amounts to about seventy-five 
 thousand souls. 
 
 Before leaving we went up to see Duomo and tlie 
 castle. The old Cathedral was founded in the fifth 
 century, and its tower, " according to the tradition of 
 the elders," stands on the former site of an ancient 
 temple, dedicated to Jupiter. We saw the old broken 
 pillars of marble, with their Corinthian capitals, 
 inclosed in the walls of the tower, and braced 
 together by bands of iron. "While loitering about 
 the church, the bells of the tower pealed loudy forth, 
 and a detachment of soldiers, filing out from the 
 castle gates, marched down into the city, a relief- 
 guard to those then on duty below. On our return to 
 the hotel we suddenly came upon the great fruit 
 market, where every variety of the production, that 
 could tempt the palate, was spread out in the greatest 
 profusion. Among many others we recollect there 
 were olives, oranges, grapes, figs, pomegranates, 
 lemons, apples, pears, chestnuts and tomatoes.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 About six o'clock on the morning of the 7th of 
 October, we left the city of Trieste aboard a small 
 steamer, called the " Arciduca Federico," bound 
 direct for Venice. Our prow is pointed to the 
 south-west, and gliding smoothly over the tranquil 
 gulf, about noon we came in view of the ocean queen, 
 rising from out the Adriatic wave with a diadem of 
 domes. Eoimding the long sand-bank, and doubling 
 the strip of land which intervenes between Venice 
 and the sea, we entered the city of the gondola, 
 and dropped our anchor in the "Grand Canal." 
 Our water-ladders are now let down, and descend- 
 ing to the wave, we tumbled our baggage into one 
 of the numerous gondolas, which were flocking round 
 the vessel, and forthwith proceeded to the "Albergo 
 dell Europa," situated just opposite the "Dogana 
 del Mare," and in other days called the " Giustiani 
 Palace." The beak of our gondola strikes the mar- 
 ble steps, and springing from her prow, we stood 
 within the city of a hundred Isles. 
 
 " I loved her from my boyliood — she to me 
 Was as a fairy city of the heart, 
 Rising like water columns from the sea. 
 Of joy the sojourn, and of -wealth the mart." 
 
 (166)
 
 Memokies oveu the AVateu, 1»17 
 
 The first thing that strikes the eye of the stranger in 
 Venice is the shattered appearance of the buildings, 
 and the mournful desolation that seems to prevail 
 over this "bride of the sea." How sad the contrast 
 of her present condition to the days of her early 
 bloom and beauty. She seems even like unto one 
 of her bankrupt merchants. The days of her doges 
 are passed I she is shorn of her glory — she has long 
 gone to decay ! Her marble fronts arc timeworn 
 and broken, and in the halls of her former princes 
 now revels the Austrian hireling — a palace for his 
 barracks and the bedrooms of royalty for his ruth- 
 less desecration. Iler people are poor and degraded — 
 her noble sons now evil and degenerate — her beaute- 
 ous daughters now wayward and wretched. 
 
 " In Venice, Tasso's echoes are no more, 
 And silent rows the songless gondolier ; 
 Her palaces are crumbling to the shore. 
 And music greets not always now the ear — 
 But unto us she hath a spell beyond 
 Her name in story, and her long array 
 Of mighty shadows, whose dim forms despond 
 Above the dogeless city." 
 
 Venice is at present an Austrian province, contains 
 106,000 inhabitants, is built on 76 islands, with 146 
 canals crossed by 306 public bridges. But it is not 
 absolutely necessary for you to take a gondola in 
 your travels through the city ; it will certainly much 
 expedite your progress ; but yet there are side-walks 
 along the most of the canals, by means of which the
 
 168 Mem OKIES over tjie Wateu. 
 
 pedestrian may find liis way from one extremity to 
 the other. At every step some object, associated 
 ■with the poetry of his early reading, presents itself 
 before him. Our first visit was to the Piazza and 
 Cathedral of San Marco, the former one of the hand- 
 somest squares in the world, and the latter one of 
 tlie richest and most sinsjular churches. The Cathe- 
 dral floor is beautifully tasselated, but time-worn and 
 uneven. Its many domes and spires rise up from the 
 massy roof, resembling in their peculiar architecture 
 the Mosques of Mohammedan worship. On the left 
 of the Cathedral is the Molo. On the right, fronting 
 the Molo, stand the two famous columns, the one 
 mounted with a Lion, the other with a Crocodile. 
 
 " St. Mark yet sees his Lion, where he stood, 
 Stand, but in mockery of his -withered power, 
 Over the proud place where an Emperor sued — 
 The Suabian sued, and now the Austrian reigns — 
 An Emperor tramples where an Emperor knelt, 
 Kingdoms are shrunk to provinces, and chains 
 Clank over sceptered cities ; nations melt 
 From power's high pinnacle, when they have felt 
 The sunshine for a while, and downward go. 
 Like lauwine loosened from the mountain's bolt." 
 
 Upon the brow of St. Mark we saw the celebrated 
 bronze horses, four in number, whose history has 
 been one of constant migration. Coming first from 
 the far east, they landed at Yenice. Thence they 
 were taken to Paris by Napoleon, but subsequently 
 restored again to Venice. On the right of tlie Cathe- 
 dral is a lofty tower, surmounted by two bronze
 
 Memories ovek the Watek. 1G9 
 
 statues, who with their iron arms strike the lionr 
 of the day, against a large bell, by the side of which 
 they stand. One of these figures once committed 
 murder, by knocking an unfortunate workman, who 
 was engaged in making repairs, over the parapet 
 upon the pavement below. Whether the grim statue 
 was ever indicted for manslaughter we did not learn. 
 At one corner of the Cathedral there is a stone called 
 " the pillar of shame," because thereupon it was com- 
 manded that the Venetian merchants, who had be- 
 come insolvent, should publicly receive "the benefit 
 of the bankrupt law." We saw too the old bell of the 
 Tower, that tolled the election of Foscari's successor, 
 sending a dull and heart-heavy sound to the old 
 man's soul, as his tottering steps bore lain from the 
 halls of his ancestors. 
 
 While in Venice we would frequently engage a 
 gondola, and explore the old city throughout its 
 every nook and corner. The gondola is an odd-look, 
 ing afi'air, and pretty well described by Byron in the 
 following oft'-hand style — 
 
 " Didst ever see a gondola? For fear 
 You should not, I'll describe it you exactly : 
 'Tis a longcover'd boat tliat's common here, 
 Carved at the prow, built lightly but compactly, 
 Row'd by two rowers, each call'd "goudolier :" 
 It glides along the water looking blackly, 
 Just like a coffin clapt in a canoe, 
 Where none can make out what you say or do." 
 
 Taking our start from the nioutli of the " Grand 
 Canal," that througii the center ui' the city winds 
 U
 
 lYO Memories over the Water. 
 
 like the letter S, we would direct the prow wherever 
 onr faucy might lead. On one occasion we were 
 «ibout concluding an agreement with an old and 
 grizzly gondolier to take us over the city, when 
 gliding rapidly by came a youthful and athletic oars- 
 man, plying his gondola with such dexterity and 
 grace, that abandoning the idea of employing our 
 ancient waterman, we turned and forthwith eniz;ao;ed 
 his more youthful rival. The indignant old man, 
 deliberately stepping upon the Molo, as we moved 
 away, with that graceful dignity of manner peculiar 
 to the Italian race, made us his profoundest bow : 
 then turning right about witJi his rear guard directed 
 upon onr front^h.Q again repeated his lowly salutation, 
 and next, completing the revolution, he made his 
 third salaam, with a dignified wave of the head, and 
 retired. We foro:ave the old villain his shameless 
 insolence, and richly enjoyed the peculiar expression 
 of his haughty contempt. In fact it is fur better to 
 be civil to the gondolier under all circumstances ; for 
 then he will ever be courteous to you. As a class of 
 men they are a set of careless, singing, good-looking, 
 devil-may-care fellows, who beg no favors and brook 
 no abusive treatment. But moving up the Grand 
 Canal we proceeded throughout its entire length, 
 passing by many a lordly palace, whose marble fronts, 
 though sadly shattered by the hand of time, still bear 
 evidence of their former glory. " Gently glides our 
 gondolier," and here is the old "Exchange" — a 
 perfect picture of decay — so changed that the accus-
 
 MeMOKIKS OVKIi THE "WaTEK. 171 
 
 tomed eye of Shylock would now hardly recognize its 
 battered walls. There stands the former abode of the 
 Foscari family ; here the " Pizarro Palace," and 
 yonder the building where Byron resided with the 
 fair Countess Guiccioli. Coming out at the upper 
 end of the canal we paused under one of the arches 
 of the " Ponte di Laguna " — a magnificent structure 
 built for the railway, across the Lagoon, and connect- 
 ing Venice with the main land. This bridge is more 
 than two miles in length, and is said to have occupied 
 two thousand workmen for several years of daily 
 labor before it was completed. Changing our route 
 we returned to our hotel, making on our way a 
 general exploration of the city winding along through 
 broad and narrow canals, and by many a marble 
 palace, to wliich the salt sea-weed was idly clinging. 
 We visited the " Manfrini Palace," so famous for its 
 pictures. "We saw there the celebrated portrait of 
 Ariosto by Titian, of which Byron so enthusiastically 
 speaks. Visited more cathedrals, whose histories are 
 nearly coeval with that of Venice herself. We also 
 rowed to the Arsenal, but not havinig written permits 
 from the city authorities, we were not allowed to 
 enter. While meandering through tlie dark and 
 narrow canals \vq were kept in continual trepidation, 
 lest some busy Venetian housewife should ilischarge 
 the contents of her tul)S upon our devoted heads. 
 We heard their splash behind and before us, but 
 happily escaped. We ascended the liigh tower at 
 the corner of the :N[o1o, wlunc.' wo Ptndied the o-eo-
 
 172 Memories over the Water. 
 
 graphy of the city, and wound np the proceedings 
 of the day by a stroll upon the " Piazza San Marco " 
 at night. Here the Venetians assembled every even- 
 ing of the week, Avhilc the fine military band, 
 quartered in the city, beguile their ears with their 
 martial strains — an Austrian artifice to cheat the 
 abject sons of Venice into a contented spirit, and 
 lure their thoughts from their pristine liberties. 
 Here the citizens of both sexes nightl}'- congregate, 
 strolling along under the brilliantly illuminated ar- 
 cades, peering into the shop windows, or else saunter- 
 ing out in the open squares, under the smile of the 
 cloudless sky. Venice by moonlight is indeed a glorious 
 sight. The moonbeams fall like a mantle of beauty 
 over the battered walls, as if in mercy to hide their 
 wasting decay. The soft stars look lovingly into 
 their own bright eyes, through the mirror of the 
 waves — the memory of the past weaves a holy spell 
 around the heart, and the still spirit worships once 
 more at the shrine of its early dreams.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Before leavinc^ Venice we, of course, " did up" 
 the Ducal Palace from the Giant's Staircase to the 
 Pionibi. Whether the head of old Marino Faliero 
 did really roll tlown tiiese same marblesteps is of no 
 consequence. You are told that such was the case, 
 and to make the best of your travels you must look 
 on such places as though they were certainly the 
 witnesses to the deed. It creates the same feeling, 
 and answers the same purpose. We next saw the 
 famous " Lion's Mouth," which, now that Venice is 
 no more, is no longer the terror of the traitor's heart. 
 After ascending several flights of stairs we were 
 shown into the Inquisitorial Chamber, where the 
 prisoners were examined and tortured. Thence, we 
 proceeded to the council chamber of the " Ten." 
 From this we passed into several large antecham- 
 bers, one leading into the Senate Chamber, and 
 another into the Reception Ilall of the Ambassadors 
 — the latter being the handsomest room in the Palace. 
 Here we found the Rape of Europa and the Venice 
 Triumphant, by J'aul Veronese. Kext we visited the 
 other side of the Palace. We entered the Hall of 
 Debate, now converted into a Library. The Paradise 
 
 ( 173 )
 
 17-i Mkmouiks ovek Tin; Watkk. 
 
 of Tintoretti occnpies one end of it, ami the other 
 Bides are covered with representations of the diflerent 
 battles of the Republic. Napoleon has robbed the 
 Ducal Palace of many of its choicest ornaments, 
 some of whicli arc now to be seen in the Louvre 
 Galleries at Paris. But he left the long line of the 
 Doges, ranged close to the ceiling, in the Hall of 
 Debate, untouched. The lengthy succession is yet 
 unbroken, except where the black curtain of Marino 
 Faliero suddenly rivets the attention, and fills the 
 mind with a mournful and mysterious interest. '' It 
 breathes the vindictive spirit of Patrician hate, whose 
 mask was patriotism, but whose aim was power." 
 Finally, under the pilotage of a guide, with a lighted 
 torch in his hand, we visited the dungeons. They 
 all open on a narrow passage, are about six feet 
 square, and as dark as Erebus. Our ambition for 
 groping about in the " deeper depths " of darkness 
 was fully gratified by the time we once more emerged 
 into the light of day, when mounting a flight of stone 
 steps 
 
 "We stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs, 
 A palace and a prison on either hand." 
 
 This was our last sight-seeing expedition in Venice, 
 and soon after we took a gondola from the door of 
 
 " Hotel Europa," and in company wuth II and 
 
 F started for tlie railway station. On arriving at 
 
 the passenger depot we found a goodly number of the 
 Venetians in waiting. It was Sunday morning, and 
 Sunday with them is a gala-day. About half-past
 
 Memories ovek the "Water. 175 
 
 ten the long train was on the move, -with a line mili- 
 taiy band playing in onr foremost cars. Speeding 
 over the magnificent bridge, connecting main-land 
 with the " city of the sea," we went bounding over 
 " terra-firma " with the bright sun of a cloudless 
 morn shining down on our pathway. The chain of 
 the Tyrolcse Mountains stood out toward the north, 
 and, as seen through the soft and dreamy haze of the 
 morning, was classically beautiful. But we could not 
 relish the idea of rushing through Italy upon the rail- 
 car. It seemed as tliough we were disturbing the 
 dust of antiquity — that we were breaking the sacred 
 spell of ages, and desecrating with ruthless step the 
 shrine, wliither love and poetry and romance had fled 
 for seclusion. But speeding onward through a lovely 
 country, blushing with the purple grape, we succes- 
 sively passed by Padua and Vicenza, and about two 
 o'clock, p. M., reached the lair city of Verona. Taking 
 an omnibus from the railway terminus, we were 
 driven forthwith to the city gates, where we were 
 detained for some time by the examination of our 
 passports. Passing now under the dark and heavy 
 iratewav, above which frowned the black-mouthed 
 cannon, we drove " tout-a-droit " down an almost 
 interminable street, and were finally deposited at our 
 excellent hotel — the "Torre di Londra " — where we 
 first washed, dined, emplo3'ed a "commissionaire," 
 and set out to see the sights of Verona. First, we 
 visited the palace and burying-grouud of some noble 
 house, whose name we have forgotten, but which we
 
 176 Memories over the Water. 
 
 found rich in marble monument. Went next to the 
 arapliitlieater, which is said to be in a better state of 
 preservation than any other extant. This old ruin is 
 really an interesting object, being built entirely of 
 stone, and withal colossal in its proportions. The 
 seats rise one above the other in some forty-four tiers, 
 existing just as they were in the days of the Empire. 
 We made the circuit of the topmost tier, and plucked 
 therefrom a little flower that modestly grew in one of 
 the crevices of the stonework. Next we went to the 
 old Roman Gate, which, it is said, was long standing 
 prior to the birth of Christ. Here our companions. 
 Hart and Fogg, grew weary and returned to the 
 hotel. But discharging the valet w^e went forth upon 
 a voyage of discovery, rather preferring to sail with- 
 out the escort of a convoy. We again retraced our 
 steps to the old Amphitheater, crossed over the 
 "Grand Place," and struck into the handsome prome- 
 nade leading out to the southern gate. An immense 
 concourse of citizens thronged along this thorough- 
 fare, and we w^ere struck with a gentility of dress and 
 manner, which does not usually belong to the cities 
 of Italy. The beauteous women, and total absence 
 of beggars, contrasted agreeably with what we had 
 just left in the squalid alleys of Venice. But one 
 seeks in vain here for the golden locks and softened 
 features of Titian's " Bella Donna." The women are 
 dark, imperious and bewitching, with a dashy style, 
 anrl a wicked sparkle in their eye. The warm gaze 
 of the Verona girl is paf-sion's essence, and the pages
 
 Memories oveu the Watek, 177 
 
 of romance could scarcely exaj^gerate the deeds she 
 dare do in her love's madness. l>ut onward we went, 
 passing out of the cit}', turning to the west, and 
 strolling along the grass-clad moats and lofty walls, 
 while as lovely and as glowing a picture as ever 
 found "a habitation and a home," in the day-dreams 
 of the poet, was flitting before our view. The sun 
 had just gone to rest, and left his purple mantle 
 on the Tyrol Hills. All was so calm, so soft, so 
 dream-like, and so still, that it seemed as though 
 some sweet vision had stolen gently o'er the musing 
 heart, soothing it into an oblivious trance, and trans- 
 porting the passive spirit to the golden realms of 
 dream-land. "We looked upon the sunset scene 
 before us, and within our heart we could have wept 
 over the fallen state of that land of the classic and 
 the cloudless clime. The bright morning breaks as 
 beauteously, and the calm sweet night steals as gently 
 o'er thy blushing bosom as in the days of yore. But 
 alas ! how changed thy lot, how wasted is the beauty 
 of thy smile ! Like to thy sweet daughter, Beatrice, 
 thine was the gift, the dangerous gift of beauty, and 
 thou art fallen. We turned from the fairy view and 
 from our own meditation, as the shadows of night 
 began to curtain in the city, and re-entering by the 
 southern gate, we mingled again amid the gay and 
 busy crowd, that swarmed along the illumined 
 streets. As we returned hotel- ward we encountered a 
 funeral procession, bearing the body of some departed 
 brother, by the light of the flickering torch, to his
 
 178 Memories otek the Water. 
 
 last restiug-place. The priest preceded the corpse in 
 his loner -white robes, and the mourners followed after. 
 A funeral cortege is a solemn sight under the smile 
 of day, but a burial by torchlight haunts the remotest 
 recess of the soul, and stirs from their silent caverns 
 a thousand dismal specters. It puts to flight every 
 thought of human folly, and sweeps with a strong 
 arm every vestige of mirth from out the heart of the 
 spectator.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 On the morning of the 13th of October, 1851, the 
 Tower of Verona disappeared rapidly from our sight, 
 as we made the run down to Mantua in an hour and 
 a quarter on the cars. Mantua is a singular place, 
 unique in its appearance and position, and conspicu- 
 ous for the sieges that have been made against its 
 walls in both ancient and modern times. The gar- 
 rison of soldiery comprises no inconsiderable portion 
 of its population, and is doubtless an eyesore as well 
 as a burden to the laboring classes. "We could only 
 feel thankful that no such incubus rested on the pro- 
 gress of our own country, and that freedom might still 
 claim a home so long as the institutions of America 
 found existence; that liberty of speech was not 
 visited with the penalty of the code of Venice, where 
 only a few days before some poor fellow, more rash 
 than wise, for the expression of some republican 
 opinion, was swung from the gallows, and actually 
 sufi'ered to hang by the neck throughout the entire 
 day, a ghastly warning to all others of a similar 
 creed. 
 
 Mantua is one of the best fortified cities in the 
 
 world, both by nature and by art. But the city, 
 
 (179)
 
 180 Memories over the Water. 
 
 impregnable to the assaults of man, yet finds its 
 conqueror in the monster death, Avho, owing to the 
 noxious miasma arising from its stagnant marshes, 
 revels in this birthplace of the poet Virgil. Barracks 
 and military hospitals abound, and from the latter 
 ■we would frequently see file forth a wan and ghastly 
 body of emaciated men, whose woe-begone appear- 
 ance would have put to blush the corps of Falstaff 
 itself. 
 
 "We left Mantua in the "Courier'' — the regular 
 mail coach — passing through Modena and Bologna, 
 and reached Florence on the following morning about 
 sunrise. In traveling through Italy, the stranger to 
 its arts and customs may as well reconcile himself, 
 from the word 'go,' to a constant succession of 
 impositions. Though he may not for once be de- 
 cidedly '■'■taken in,^^ yet he will encounter at every 
 step a species of swindling, which it is utterly impos- 
 sible to evade. We could but wonder that such a 
 policy is pursued by the people of Italy, supported 
 and sustained as they arc by the immense influx of 
 strangers, who annually leave them a golden harvest. 
 They must feel and know that their country has 
 become, as it were, one vast exhibition ; that what- 
 ever of wealth and vitality it now possesses may be 
 attributed to the golden shower that is hailed upon 
 them, principally from the pockets of English and 
 American travelers ; and yet it would seem that, 
 by their swindling, their impositions, and their 
 knavery, it was the one object to get as much as
 
 M?:mokiks ovkk the WATiui. 181 
 
 possible iVoiii tlie purse of the stranger, and leave 
 only the resolution in liis heart never to set foot upon 
 that soil again, if it be his good fortune once more to 
 get out of it. The cities of Italy are perfect catch- 
 traps for the unwary. You bribe in and you bribe 
 out. The keeper of the gate tells you that you must 
 allow your baggage to be looked into and your pass- 
 port to be seen. But the sight of a handful of silver 
 will allay all the worthy potential's curiosity, and he 
 will pass you in with a 'God speed' on your way, and 
 never feel the first blush for his own corruption. The 
 cities, too, are entered through frowning fortifications, 
 planted with cannon and guarded with soldiery. 
 They are generally surrounded by high walls and 
 deep moats, the latter being crossed by means of the 
 drawbridge. 
 
 Bologna w^e found quite a handsome city, its 
 outward appearance indicating a cleanliness and 
 prosperity that was in marked contrast with the 
 majority of Italian towns. "We left Bologna about 
 five o'clock, p. M., and passing many handsome 
 villas, with their stately gateways, hedge-fences, and 
 long avenues, we were soon after ascending the 
 heights of the Apennines, which, throughout the day, 
 we had seen off to the right. We traveled all that 
 night, and with a dull and heavy headache, which 
 utterly incapacitated us for the enjoyment of the fine 
 mountain views by moonlight. Indeed we spent a 
 most wretched night, and morn came like an angel 
 from the East, as it broke lovinuly over the fair
 
 182 Memories over the Watek. 
 
 landscape, discovering to our eyes the poetic Florence, 
 lying in a rich and smiling valley at our feet, its 
 proud dome lifting its lofty head among the clouds, 
 and the many white-walled villas in its vicinity 
 embowered in their green orchards, and shining 
 brightly in the morning sun. We reached the 
 " Hotel New York," overlooking the turbid Arno, 
 and in due time our physical condition was much 
 improved by cold bath and clean linen. This much 
 accomplished, we started out from our hotel, and soon 
 after dropped in at the " Caffe Americano," to get a 
 cup of coffee. While quietly sipping the refreshing 
 beverage, our sight w^as suddenly greeted by one of 
 those pictures of Italian life, which from our early 
 boyhood had been associated with our images of 
 beauty and romance, in the person of a genuine 
 flower-girl of Florence, with her broad-brimmed hat 
 and blue ribbon, basket of flowers and tid}'^ dress, a 
 rosy cheek and a smiling face. She must have 
 immediately recognized us as a stranger, for, passing 
 by all the other visitors at the Cafie, she came 
 directly to our table, and made us the object of her 
 special attention. Culling two of her fairest bouquets 
 from her basket of flowers, she presented them with 
 an easy grace, entering at the same time into a series 
 of pretty questions and observations in the courteous 
 and musical language of her country, and finally 
 retiring with the same winning grace that distin- 
 guished her "entree." These flower-girls never expect 
 that you should pay for their pretty presents on
 
 Memories ovee the Watek. 183 
 
 receiving them, Tliey will, however, meet you, with- 
 out fail, each morning with a fair and fresh bouquet, 
 and only anticipate a recompense prior to your depar- 
 ture from their city. If they meet you walking on the 
 street, they will, with an ease and dexterity almost 
 miraculous, fasten a bunch of their flowers in the 
 buttonhole of your coat, and with a smile pass on. 
 This is certainly a species of begging ; but w^ith us 
 they were ever welcome, for the poetry of their 
 vocation, for their sweet smiles, their bright eyes, and 
 their blooming cheeks.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 On reaching Florence the weather, which np to 
 that time had been bright and cloudless, suddenly 
 grew damp and drear3\ The rainy season had set in, 
 and the clouds continually poured forth their floods, 
 rendering the streets slippery and disagreeable, and 
 causing the Arno, fed by mountain tributaries, to 
 surge madly along, a bold and muddy torrent. With 
 nothing more important on hand, we would fre- 
 quently loiter along the "Vin Maggiv," and stopping 
 on the "Ponte Santa Trinita," watch the crowd that 
 unceasingly poured across. This bridge is a broad 
 and handsome structure, whose four corners are 
 severally ornamented with marble statues, represent- 
 ing the four seasons. But the most interesting spot 
 about Florence is the " Panza Gran Duca," where 
 sculpture of world-wide fame is to be found in rich ' 
 profusion. In the center of the square stands the 
 bronze equestrian statue of Cosmo First, in all the 
 regal dignity of his character. Fronting the " Palazza 
 Vechia," whose somber walls look as stern and for- 
 bidding as the lawless democracy that once ran riot 
 there, is the celebrated David of Michael Ani=:elo. 
 
 The marble of this statue, however, is defective ; but 
 (184)
 
 Mkmokies ovEii THE Wateu. 185 
 
 independent of this we could perceive nothing of tliiit 
 rare merit in tlie execution of the work that an 
 admiring world accords it. Among the other groups 
 we recollect Hercules destroying Cacus, Perseus cut- 
 ting off the head of the Medusa, the llape of the 
 Sabines, and Theseus killing the Centaur. The 
 Fountain of Keptune, on the left of the Palace, 
 is a matinificent work of art. The Duomo of 
 Florence is a huge and costly building, -whose dome 
 •was the proudest of all the works of the iunnortal 
 Angelo. Adjoining the Cathedral is the Baptistery, 
 whose doors the artist pronounced worthy to be the 
 gates of Paradise. We thought them most beautifully 
 and elaborately wrought, but could not agree with 
 Angelo in his profane admiration, especially when 
 such representations as Leda and the Swan, and other 
 heathen fables equally objectionable, were engraved 
 in bold relief upon their sides. Most of the churches 
 of Florence have a rough and unfinished appearance, 
 and the palaces wear a gloomy, feudal air, recording 
 with their iron bars and massive doors the violence 
 of the aire in which their architect flourished. The 
 popular evening resort is the Cascine, a handsome 
 arrangement of pleasure-grounds, about a mile below 
 the city, on the left bank of the Arno. On one 
 Sunday afternoon, as we were strolling along the 
 smoothly -graveled walks, we encountered the Grand 
 Duke of Tuscany, making an airing in an open car- 
 riage. He seemed to us a venerable and benevolent 
 old man, and was graciously dofiing his hat to his
 
 186 Memories over the Water. 
 
 loyal and devoted subjects as he passed. On reach- 
 ing the Cascine we discovered, in one of the numerous 
 carriages that are generally ranged about the band of 
 music, one of the fair acquaintances of our college 
 days, Miss Anna Henning, of New Orleans, with 
 whom we had danced away many a merry hour in 
 our native city. Just for the sake of an experiment, 
 we strolled carelessly up to the carriage, and without 
 making ourself at all known, addressed our fair 
 friend, when to the gratification of a pardonable 
 vanity, we were immediately recognized. Next fol- 
 lowed an introduction to a young lady from Russia, 
 and then a stroll over the grounds. While on the 
 promenade, however, a young officer of the Austrian 
 army came up and laid us under many obligations by 
 taking charge of the lady of the snowy clime, and 
 leaving us alone with the i)retty Anna. We had a 
 pleasant chat over the olden time, and about our 
 mutual friends in Nashville, and on parting in the 
 evening we received a pressing invitation to call fre- 
 quently at the " Casa Gratzieni." It was now dusk, 
 and on our return to the city we overtook our travel- 
 ing companion, Fogg, in company with Messrs. Hart 
 and Gait, two young American sculptors, located in 
 Florence. Hart has won considerable reputation as 
 an artist, and was delegated by the ladies of Rich- 
 mond, Virginia, to go to Florence for the purpose of 
 executing a statue of Henry Clay. Young Gait is 
 also a sculptor of promise. While we were in Flor- 
 ence he was at work on a piece, which he called the
 
 Memokies over the Water. 187 
 
 nympli Psyche, and which was considered a very 
 creditable execution. 
 
 On the following day we did nothing but ramble 
 about, alone, over every quarter of the city. When 
 the cravings of appetite admonished us of the hour 
 for dinner, we would step into a restaurat, satisfy its 
 clamorous calls, and resume again our solitary pere- 
 grinations, with ears ready to hear and eyes on the 
 look out to see whatever might cross our path. The 
 close of the day found us again at the Cascine, and 
 nio-ht had come on ere we commenced our hotel-ward 
 return. Keeping immediately on the bank of the 
 river, we came to the Suspension Bridge, and con- 
 cluding we would like to explore the region on the 
 other side the Arno, we crossed over, and was just 
 on the point of stepping again on " Terra Firma," 
 when the custode popped his head out from a little 
 cuddy-hole to the left, and demanded the usual toll of 
 three quatrini. Now it so happened that we had not 
 a single quatrine in our purse, and so could not pay 
 the sum required. But we w^ere unwilling to go 
 back — knowing, too, that by so doing we should have 
 twice crossed the bridge without toll — and so taking 
 out our empty porte-monnaie, and clapping our hand 
 upon it that the custode might be witness to the hol- 
 low sound, we started off. The merry keeper "let us 
 rip," laboring though, wo verily believe, under the 
 impression that we would return again that way, and 
 then pay the double toll. But it was now quite
 
 188 Memokies over the Water. 
 
 dark, and as wc fumbled along, all alone, through the 
 narrow, obscure streets, among the dark-browed 
 Florentines, we buttoned up our coat, and kept a 
 sharp look out for the stiletto. We were not, how- 
 ever, molested in our course, and a short while after, 
 we had found one of the city gates, through which 
 we were glad to enter, and soon we had reached our 
 room. 
 
 One of the most striking features of Florence is the 
 frequent procession of men, which the stranger meets, 
 all dressed in long dominoes, with their forms and 
 features perfectly concealed, and bearing with them 
 some sick and suffering mortal to the charity hospital. 
 We were told that these men were members of a 
 society, composed of the first rank in Florence, with 
 the Grand Duke himself at their head, and whose 
 object was to alleviate the sufferings of humanity — 
 to visit the sick, to provide for the poor, and to bury 
 the penniless dead. This they are required to do 
 under cloak and mask, that their charity be unknown 
 and un vaunted. A beautiful idea we thought it was, 
 and an honorable comment upon the city, that these 
 noble and high-born families should thus perform 
 their deeds of goodness, closely following the admo- 
 nition of Ilira, M-ho hath said — " Let not thy right- 
 hand know what thv left-hand doeth." 
 
 On the day following we took a run through the 
 Imperial Gallery, famous for its rare sculpture ; and 
 whom should we meet in the tribune but our friend
 
 Memokies ovek the Watek. 189 
 
 R, W. McGavock, of Nashville, gazing; on the Venus 
 di Medici. We were of course delii^hted to greet 
 again his lamiliar face, and together we made the 
 tour of the iralleries. "What treasures of art does that 
 little room contain I whichever way you turn, some 
 immortal creation greets your eye. Every picture is 
 a gem, and every piece of marble famous. The dis- 
 puted Knife-grinder stoops lifelike by the side of the 
 eroddess of Love ; the intricate contortion of the 
 AVrestlers contrasts well with the joyful abandonment 
 of the Dancing Fawn, while the god of music closes 
 the circle of exclusives. There is also here a fine 
 copy of the group of Laocoon and his sons. The 
 Priest of Apollo had dared to hurl his iron spear into 
 the side of the wooden horse, and the patriotic father 
 and devoted sons paid the penalty by their death. 
 "Tmco Danaos etiam dona ferentes.'''' Among the 
 more noted paintings are the Virgin of Angelo; 
 Niobe and her children ; the Mercury of John of 
 Bologna ; the Head of Medusa, by the gloomy pencil 
 of Caravazzio; and the blue-hooded Magdalene, of 
 Sassafarato. The face of the Medusa, with her 
 matted locks of livid, gory reptiles, is "horribly 
 beautiful" — a mutilated fright — that, by the fair 
 countenance of the sainted Madonna, looks like 
 heaven and hell contrasted. Having completed the 
 survey of the galleries, we returned with Mr. 
 McGavock to "Hotel de York," where we found our 
 friends, Mr. Edward H. Ewing, of Kashville; James
 
 190 Memories over 'niE Water. 
 
 Price, of Lebanon; and Johnstone, of South Caro- 
 lina; not forgetting, either, the Kniglit of the Razor, 
 Frank Parrish. It was our purpose, on reaching 
 Florence, to rest about a month within tlie walls; 
 but our newly-found friends proposing that we should 
 accompany them down to the "Eternal City," our 
 stay in the Tuscan capital was cut short.
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Among the most prominent objects of interest in 
 Florence are the Museum and the Pitti Palace. The 
 former is one of the most extensive and well-arranged 
 establishments of the kind in Europe, containing, 
 among a thousand other attractions, the astronomical 
 apparatus of Galileo. The wax-gallery is gotten up 
 on a most magnificent scale. The plagues of Florence 
 and Milan, especially, attract attention for the truthful- 
 ness of their representation. The execution is most 
 excellent, but the horrible scenes presented to the 
 eye, nauseate the very soul with their loathsome 
 Bights. The anatomical department is most perfect 
 and complete. The medical student might there 
 learn, in one day, more of the construction of the 
 human frame, than by six months of diligent study 
 in his office. Not a bone, nor a vein, nor a single 
 fiber is there in "this mortal coil" that does not 
 find there its perfect countei-part. But Florence is 
 the Paradise of loafers. The English, especially, 
 make this their refuge in time of pecuniary or politi- 
 cal distress ; and many of them, bankrupt in pui*se 
 and reputation, find this an asylum from a home 
 persecution. Living in Florence is proverbially cheap, 
 
 (191)
 
 192 Memokies over the Water. 
 
 and many an English nobleman, of the "shabby- 
 genteel" rank, who, in his own country, could hardly 
 support the semblance of his position, here moves in 
 lordly style. A palace may be rented, and dashing 
 equipages, with liveried servants, be had for what 
 in England would hardly suffice for the necessities of 
 life. Then, as wc have observed, Florence is the 
 Paradise for loafers. The routine of daily amuse- 
 ments is more varied, and at the same time less 
 expensive, than at any other place in the world. The 
 toilet having been leisurely accomplished in the morn- 
 ing you may pass over to Doney's, and breakfast 
 upon eggs, cofiee, and delicious bread and butter, for 
 which you pay one paul — about ten cents. Then a 
 ramble through the Imperial Gallery will fatigue you 
 just enough to make you relish an ice or a lemonade, 
 which will cost only half a paul. You may then 
 pass over the Arno, and walking unquestioned into 
 the Pitti Palace, sink into a soft, cushioned scat, and 
 gaze upon the Madonna de Seggiola of Eaphael, or 
 the Virgin of Murillo. One turn of the head, and 
 the lovely, guileless, glorious Judith of Allori stands 
 before you, with a strange contrast exhibited in the 
 cruel clutch of her fingers in the gory, matted hair of 
 the fallen warrior, and the soft, w^omanly beauty of 
 her dark eyes and full, warm lips. In the next room 
 you will find the death-scene of Cleopatra, and for the 
 moment you will forgive the infatuation, which lost 
 a world to the victim of Egypt's queen ; but turning 
 thence to the "Sister Fates'' of Angelo, and the
 
 Memories ovek the Water. 193 
 
 gloomy, dark-browed " Couspirators " of Salvator 
 Kosa, that fond weakness will give way to a sterner 
 mood, as you gaze upon the inexorable calmness, and 
 the cold inhumanity depicted upon every feature of 
 those withered old women ; and upon the unrelenting 
 purpose of the arch conspirator, Cataline. But when 
 your eye grows weary of the canvass, pass through 
 these priceless halls of painting, and view the Venus 
 of Canova, She is a shade larger than the Venus di 
 Medici, and tiie marble from which she is wrought is 
 slightly defective ; but yet she is 
 
 "All that ideal beauty ever blessed 
 The mind with." 
 
 But, perhaps, you are now content with the sight of 
 gorgeous halls, glowing with sculpture and painting. 
 If so, and you would wish to separate true beauty from 
 the trappings of wealth, then call at the studio of our 
 gifted countryman, Iliram Powers, and see there such 
 genius as will not shrink from comparison with that 
 of the immortal Greek. His productions most properly 
 rank among the choicest pieces of modern sculpture. 
 In the words of another — " without having that clas- 
 sical severity of the ancient ideal, they have all their 
 beauty, and just enough of earth to keep them out of 
 heaven." 
 
 But by this it is time for dinner ; after which you 
 either have a drive down to the Cascine with the 
 Florentine fashionables, or else enjoy a quiet stroll 
 through the Boboli Gardens. By this time the sun is 
 set, and the theaters open. The liours of poetry begin, 
 it;
 
 194 Memories over the "Water, 
 
 and you sink into sleep that night with the notes of 
 " II Bravo" or " Torqnato Basso " murmuring in your 
 ear. Thus closes a day in Florence. 
 
 But, of a truth, Florence is a fair place to dwell in. 
 The galleries and public places are thrown open at all 
 times free of expense, and free of annoyance. The 
 liberty of the press can hardly be called restricted, 
 and an enlightened policy marks the present rule of 
 Tuscany. The soldiers are few and civil ; the people 
 loyal and contented ; for the Grand Duke is liberal 
 and loves his subjects. There is an absence of exor- 
 bitant taxation, and consequently an abundance, a 
 cheapness, an excellence of almost everything. Beside 
 this Florence is now the home of the Fine Arts, where 
 many of our own painters and sculptors resort for the 
 advantages it affords. Then, too, its history has been 
 one, around which the charm of romance and poetry 
 is thrown. In perilous enterprises ; in deeds of daring 
 and endurance; in adventures of love and war, 
 Florence stands, almost, without a rival. But now it 
 is a sweet and gentle place ; quite different from the 
 turbulent city it once was, when Guelf and Ghibelline 
 warred the one against the other, and dyed the ducal 
 threshold with fraternal blood. In the peaceful 
 loungers along the Cascine you would hardly recog- 
 nize the descendants of that restless democracy whose 
 law was vengeance, and whose liberty was license ; 
 nor in the fair administration of the present govern- 
 ment would you dream that the idiotic sway of the 
 bastard Medici was once observed and respected.
 
 Memories oveu the Water. 195 
 
 But our companions are anxious to resume their 
 travels, and we bid a reluctant adieu to the fair city 
 of Florence. We are consoled only with the reflec- 
 tion that we are journeying toward the "eternal city," 
 and that within a few days more we shall stand upon 
 her "seven hills," and view with our own eyes the 
 scene of former greatness, grandeur, glory, power. 
 Our company consisted of seven persons, and we 
 traveled by "Vetturino." That is, wc engaged a 
 private conveyance, and bargained with the driver 
 that, for a certain sum, he should take us, by such a 
 route and in so many days, from Florence to Rome. 
 This is much the most pleasant and cheapest mode of 
 traveling in Italy. The greater portion of the country 
 through which we passed the first day was abundant 
 in beautiful scenery. Wc went skirting along the 
 base of the lowland Apennines, and reached Arezzo 
 about niirhtlUU, having come a distance of about 
 forty miles. We did not stop to see the frame of the 
 man, inclosed in the brick wall, so minutelv and 
 so touchingly described by the American author, 
 lleadlcy. Arezzo is famous as the scene of many 
 eventful struggles of the middle ages. Here were, 
 also, born Mceceuas, Fetrarch, and other men of 
 ancient renown. Early on the following morning we 
 were again on our wa}', wending along the left side of 
 the fertile valley of Chiana. About noon wc reached 
 the village of Camuscia. Here we rested a few hours, 
 and while dinner was in course of preparation, we 
 made an excursion afoot, up the side of the mountain,
 
 196 Memories over the Water. 
 
 to the old town of Crotona. Our guide first led us to 
 the reputed grave of Pythagoras; a little green 
 hillock, with a few loose stones, lying without the city 
 walls. "We bore away a flower as a memento. Next 
 we entered the old Etruscan city, and proceeded first 
 to the cathedral, where we saw the sarcophagus of the 
 consul Flaminius. We then explored the museum, 
 under the guidance of a long-robed priest, and found 
 nothing worthy of note within it, excepting, perhaps, 
 its famous old bronze lamp, that was dug up by 
 somebody somewhere, some long time ago. From 
 Cortona we had a delightful view of lake Thrasimene 
 and its battle-field, of the valley of Chiana, and several 
 spurs of the blue and misty Apennines. x\s we came 
 out of the gates of the city we caught a glimpse of a 
 beautiful girl, looking out from her window. She 
 had espied our party of Americans, and being con- 
 scious of the beauty of her fair face, she graciously 
 smiled upon us as we passed. Dinner over we again 
 resumed our route, now bordering along the left shore 
 of the poetic lake, Thrasimene, whose sheeted waters 
 were sleeping calmly in the golden sunshine of 
 autumnal beauty. We passed immediately over the 
 battle-ground, where Flaminius and his Roman cohorts 
 went down under the charging squadrons of the victo- 
 rious Hannibal. 
 
 " I roam by Thrasimene's lake, in the defilea 
 Fatal to Roman rashness, more at home ; 
 For there the Carthaginian's warlike wiles 
 Come back before me, as his skill beguiles
 
 Memoriks over the Water. 197 
 
 The host between the mountain and tlie shore, 
 
 Where courage falls in her despairing files, 
 
 And torrents, swollen to rivers with their gore. 
 
 Reek through the sultry plain, with legions scattered o'er." 
 
 Reached Passignano and rested for tlie night. 
 
 While at Camuscia, our merry friend P , having 
 
 been challenged by the wager of his expenses down to 
 Rome, by the patriarch of our party, to kiss the bar- 
 maid before leaving the hotel, accepted the challenge, 
 and vowed that we should see him win the wager 
 before leaving the dining-hall. The unsuspecting 
 Susaimah soon came in, and was busily engaged in, 
 
 removing dishes, plates, etc., when friend P , 
 
 with a merry twinkle in his eye, and his jovial face 
 beaming with a dare-devil humor, suddenly slipped 
 up behind this nymph of the kitchen, and throwing 
 both arms around her neck, imprinted a kiss upon her 
 rosy cheek, that sounded like the echo of a sixty-four 
 pounder. A would-be indignation followed this ex- 
 plosive expression of his admiration, which, however, 
 soon yielded to the burst of merriment that rose from 
 our party, on witnessing the successful achievement. 
 
 Did you ever tell 3'our young wife, P , of that 
 
 adventure?
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 On leaving Passignano, we soon al'ter passed 
 through the curious old city of Perugia. The next 
 object of interest on our route was the " Grotto di 
 Volunni," called the largest and most beautiful in 
 Etruria. These grottoes, it will be remembered, are 
 the depositories of the ashes of the old Romans, and 
 to the antiquary are exceedingly interesting. They 
 are generally excavated out of the earth, and you 
 descend into them by a flight of stone steps. The 
 Volunni Grotto we found composed of many dark 
 and vaulted chambers, replete with cinerary urns, 
 Gorgon heads, iron serpents, and Etruscan inscrip- 
 tions. "We had now reached the valley of the " Yellow 
 Tiber," and erelong passed over the famous river by 
 means of a handsome stone bridge. Separate from 
 its historic and poetic associations, we thought the 
 Tiber a very insignificant and ugly stream, not so 
 large nor by any means so beautiful as the Cumberland. 
 We next passed by the picturesque city of Assissi, 
 pitched upon the mountain side to our left, and 
 reached Foligno that evening about dusk. Here we 
 were delighted to find a clean and comfortable hotel. 
 
 On the following morning we entered upon the 
 (IDS;
 
 Memories over the Water. 199 
 
 " Via Flarainia," and followed its course throughout 
 the day. AVc passed through the classic valley of 
 Clitnmnus, of which Virgil had thus discoursed to 
 ns in our school-boy days — 
 
 " Hinc albi, Clitumne, greges, et maxima taurus 
 Victima, srepe tuo pcrfusi flumine sacro, 
 Romanosad templa ileum duxere triumphos." 
 
 Next we saw the fair town of Trevi, seated on the 
 mountain side, its white-walled houses glittering 
 under the ravs of the rising sun. Then came the 
 pretty little temple, dedicated to the river-god of 
 Clitumnus, whose clear and crystal waters rise from 
 the green meadows about this building. This temple, 
 some say, was the Trebia of Pliny, and is thus de- 
 scribed by Byron in his Childe Harold — • 
 
 " But thou, Clitumne, in thy s\reetest wave 
 Of tlie most living crystal that was e'er 
 The haunt of river-nymph, to gaze and lave 
 Her limbs where nothing liid them, thou dost rear 
 Thy grassy banks, whereon the milk-white steer 
 Grazes ; the purest god of gentle waters ! 
 And most serene of aspect and most clear ; 
 Surely that stream was unprofaned by slaughters — 
 A mirror and a bath for Beauty's youngest daughters. 
 And on thy happy shore a temple still, 
 Of small and delicate proportions, keeps, 
 Upon a mild declivity of hill, 
 Its memory of thee ; beneath it sweeps 
 Thy current's calmness ; oft from out it leaps 
 The finny darter, with the glittering scales. 
 Who dwells and revels in thy glassy deeps ; 
 While chance some scalter'd water-lily sails 
 Down where the shallower wave, still tells its bubbling tales."
 
 200 Memories over the Watkk. 
 
 Having left our names inscribed upon this object of 
 Byron's especial admiration, we left the fair little 
 temple ; and erelong reached the town of Spoleto, 
 somewhat famous for its woolen manufactures. We 
 stopped for a few hours at the "Hotel La Posta," 
 and climbed up the steep hill opposite to the citadel, 
 which commands one of the most extensive views in 
 Italy, embracing in its compass the valley Clitumnus, 
 the Apennines, and the cities of Perugia, Foligno and 
 Assissi. Across the very narrow and very deep 
 ravine is thrown the Aqueduct — a stupendous work, 
 which serves the double purpose of water conductor 
 and bridge. It is built upon ten arches of brick, 
 its height is 243 feet, and its length 615 feet. 
 We observed that the windows of the citadel were 
 filled with prisoners, some for moral and some for 
 political offenses. 
 
 Bills all settled we were again en route^ winding 
 over the steep ascent of Monte Sommia, whose sum- 
 mit is 3738 feet above the level of the sea. Along 
 the road-side grew in great profusion the wild ilex, 
 which was in many places planted and trimmed into 
 beautiful hedges. Our descent presented some magni- 
 ficent views, as we wound along down the mountain 
 road, with the lofty hills on either hand, and before 
 us a soft, dim, and blue-tinted vista, with a valley as 
 fair as the one inhabited by the discontented Kasselas. 
 That night we reached Terni, and on the morning 
 following Ave were up bright and early, and off to see 
 tlie famous "Falls of Terni," having for our guide
 
 Memories over the Water. 201 
 
 Michsel Angclo, as celebrated among travelers in 
 Italy as the renowned Stephen among the visitors 
 to the Mammoth Cave. We passed along a roman- 
 tic pathway, shaded on each side by groves of ilex, 
 and bordering on the rapids below. In our course 
 we passed the Villa Graziani, the residence of Queen 
 Caroline, when Princess of Wales. The scenery all 
 along this wild valley is exceedingly beautiful, and 
 to one, who is fond of the sketch-book, affords a fine 
 field for the exercise of his pencil. About five miles 
 from the village we came upon the Falls. We first 
 climbed the tortuous pathway on the left of the Velino, 
 and from the little arbor on the mountain side had 
 the best view of the falling water. It must have 
 been here that Byron stood, when he felt the inspi- 
 ration of his glorious description. We thought the 
 falls exquisitely beautiful, and only wished as we 
 paused to read from Childe Harold the following 
 lines, that he, who could pen such glowing thoughts, 
 might have seen and described the might and majesty 
 of Niagara — 
 
 " The roar of waters ! from the headlong height 
 Velino cleaves the wave-worn precipice. 
 The fall of waters ! rapid as the light 
 The flashing mass foams shaking the abyss ; 
 The hell of waters ! where they howl an.d hiss ; 
 And boil in endless torture ; while the sweat 
 Of their great agony, wrung out from this 
 Their Phlegethon, curls round the rocks of jet. 
 That gird the gulf around, in pitiless horror set. 
 And mounts in spray the skies, and thence again 
 Returns in an unceasing shower, which round, 
 
 17
 
 202 Memoeies ovek the Water. 
 
 With its unemptied cloud of gentle rain. 
 
 Is an eternal April to the ground, 
 
 Making it all one emerald : — how profound 
 
 The gulf ! and ho'w the giant element 
 
 From rock to rock leaps with delirious bound. 
 
 Crushing the cliffs, which downward worn and rent 
 
 With his fierce footsteps, yield in chasms a fearful vent 
 
 To the broad column which rolls on, and shows 
 
 More like the fountain of an infant sea, 
 
 Torn from the womb of mountains by the throes 
 
 Of a new world, than only thus to be 
 
 Parent of rivers, which flow gushingly, 
 
 With many windings, through the vale — look back I 
 
 Lo ! where it comes like an eternity. 
 
 As if to sweep all things in its track. 
 
 Charming the eye with dread, the matchless cataract. 
 
 Horribly beautiful ! But on the verge. 
 
 From side to side, beneath the glittering morn. 
 
 An Iris sits amidst the infernal surge, 
 
 Like hope upon a death-bed, and unworn 
 
 Its steady dyes, while all around is torn 
 
 By the distracted waters, bears serene 
 
 Its brilliant hues with all their beams unshorn ; — 
 
 Resembling mid the torture of the scene. 
 
 Love watching Madness with unalterable mien." 
 
 Having satisfied ourselves with the falls we now 
 returned to the village. Terni we found to be a 
 thriving little place, where they manufacture prin- 
 cipally silken and woolen goods, and contains ?, popu- 
 lation of some 9,000 souls. It boasts itself the birth- 
 place of Tacitus the historian, Tacitus the emperor, 
 and Florian the emperor. Many travelers make it 
 a point to tarry awhile at Terni, and thence make 
 excursions about in its neighborhood. As a curious
 
 Memouii^s ovek the Watek, 203 
 
 instance wc rcmcmbcrod that our friend Johnstone, 
 on looking over the register of the Hotel, found there 
 the names of his father, his mother and himself, 
 dated in the year 1837. lie was at that time a mere 
 child and in company with his parents was making 
 the tour of Europe. He purchased the leaf of the 
 book for a paul, and took it as a memento of Terni, 
 About one o'clock wc were again on our way, and a 
 ride of some two hours brought us to Narni, which is 
 most beautifully situated. From the village we went 
 into the valley to have a look at the " Bridge of 
 Augustus," which we found to be a magnificent old 
 ruin. One of its massive and well built arches was 
 still standing entire, a grim old monument to its ancient 
 architect. This vast work of marble masonry was 
 built by Augustus to allow the Flaminian way a pas- 
 sage over the river Kar, whose narrow valley it here 
 spanned at an immense height over the rushing waters 
 
 below. McG , here had in tow a good-natured 
 
 Italian youth as a guide, and took great delight in 
 making him dance and turn somersets — for which 
 the promise of a few coppers was ample inducement. 
 One of the first things which strikes the American 
 traveler in Italy is the bleak and desolate appearance 
 of its villages. They look the very picture of a man- 
 abandoned, God-forsaken wreck, and the few mise- 
 rable wretches who crawl through their cold and 
 gloomy streets, seem the last lingering remnant of 
 wasting humanity.
 
 CHA.PTEII XXXII. 
 
 From the village of Narni we proceeded along a 
 beautiful road, passing through tlie town of Otricoli, 
 and again crossing the Tiber by a bridge, built in the 
 time of Augustus. Immediately after we entered the 
 village of Borghetto, with its moldering old fortress, 
 while on our left lay the level plain on which the gal- 
 lant McDonald so completely routed the Neapolitan 
 army, under Mack the Incapable, whose force thrice 
 numbered that of the French Marshal. Monte Soracto 
 now began to form a very prominent object of 
 interest along the wayside, its craggy sides towering 
 abruptly up from out the plain on our left. This 
 mountain has a name upon the pages of both ancient 
 and modern poetry. 
 
 " Vides ut. alta stet nive candidum 
 
 Soracte." — Hoeace. 
 Also — 
 
 " The loue Soracte's heights displayed. 
 Not now in snow, which asks the lyric Roman's aid 
 For our remembrance, and from out the plain 
 Heaves like a long-swept wave about to break, 
 And ou the curl hangs pausing." — Childe Harold. 
 
 Next we came to Civita Castellana, crossing over a 
 bridge one hundred and twenty feet above the bottom
 
 Mp:mories ovku tiik Watkk. 205 
 
 of the ravine. This town contains a population of 
 some two thousand eight hundred inhabitants, a fine 
 fortress, and some interesting remains of the old 
 Etruscan architecture. It was fired by the French, 
 in 1799, and nearly reduced to ruins. Then came the 
 hotel of " Lc Sette Vene," where we rested for the 
 night, and within twenty-two miles of Home. Left 
 on the following morning, about sunrise, all impatient 
 for the first glimpse of the Eternal City. Between 
 Baccano and La Storta, from an elevated point, we 
 caught sight of the dome of St. Peter's 
 
 " Oh ! Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! 
 The orphans of the heart must turn to thee. 
 Lone mother of dead empires I and control 
 In their shut breasts their petty misery. 
 What are our woes and sufferance ? Come and see 
 The cypress, hear the owl and plod j'our way 
 O'er steps of broken thrones and temples ! Ye 
 Whose agonies are evils of a day, 
 A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. 
 The Niobe of nations ! There she stands 
 Childless and crownless in her voiceless woe ; 
 An empty urn within her withered hands. 
 Whose holy dust was scattered long ago." 
 
 Again crossing the Tiber, by the " Ponte Molle," 
 built upon the foundation of the ancient " Pons 
 Milvius," we proceeded onward, and soon reached 
 the " Porta del Popolo." Here our passports were 
 surrendered into the hands of the villainous oflScials ; 
 but a bribe of ten pauls freed us from an examination 
 of ])aggage at the Dogana. We had entered the city
 
 206 Memories over the Water. 
 
 walls, and were in Rome, that city whereon time has 
 showered down its ages, but which yet stands, though 
 only a shattered shell, a wasted wreck riven from the 
 glories of the past. Up to this time we had enjoyed 
 the balmy air, the blue skies, and blushing fields 
 of Italy. But now a change had come over the face 
 of nature, and nothing but cloud and rain, filthy 
 streets, and dingy buildings greeted our advent to the 
 Seven-hilled City. "We first procured rooms at the 
 " Hotel d'Europe," but on the next day moved our 
 cparters to "Hotel d'Angleterre." 
 
 Our first adventure in Home was of rather an 
 amusing character, in fact not at all suited to the 
 dignity nor to the poetry of this Queen of the Past. 
 But to the adventure. On Saturday morning, Novem- 
 ber 1st, we went to the Sistine Chapel, to see the Pope 
 celebrate Mass. "We soon reached the Vatican, and 
 mounting the long fiight of gradually-ascending steps, 
 we stood with a considerable crowd, in the anteroom, 
 awaiting the opening of the doors of the chapel. 
 Now we had heard it said, that without a dress-coat, 
 no one would be permitted to enter the chapel on this 
 occasion. But our wardrobe at the time did not boast 
 a dress-coat, and it was with some misgivings that we 
 looked upon the many swallow-tails that surrounded 
 our unassuming frock. Instead, too, of imitating the 
 device of some others, whom we saw, of pinning up 
 the corners of the frock into the cut of the dress-coat, 
 we very honestly hung out our true colors, determined 
 to effect an entrance, if the expression of an outward
 
 Memokies over the Water. 207 
 
 assurance would accomplish it. At length the Swiss 
 Body-Guard, rigged out like a company of harlequins 
 in their colors and stripes, and armed with swords 
 and long pikes, marched in and took their respective 
 stations, as sentinels, assigned them by the officer in 
 command. The doors were now thrown open, and 
 the crowd began to push in. We would not, how- 
 ever, seem very solicitous, and so quietly followed on 
 behind, with the utmost nonchalance that we could 
 assume. But, alas ! as we put our foot upon the 
 threshold of the door, our course was suddenly 
 arrested, and our gravity totally upset, by one of 
 the sturdy sentinels opposing our further progi-ess, 
 and accounting for the rudeness of his conduct by the 
 simple repetion of — "Ilabito! habito!" pointing at 
 tlie same time to our unfortunate frock. Now friend 
 Price was also along, and in the same predicament 
 with ourself ; but by tucking his coat-tail, and keep- 
 ing in the center of the crowd, he had managed very 
 adroitly to smuggle himself in, under cover of the 
 rush, while we, for our independence, were turned 
 back. Nothing daunted, however, we went below; 
 borrowed a pin from one of the guard, who chuckled 
 at the idea of the cheat, and even assisted us in 
 making the metamorphose, and returned with our 
 counterfeit coat-tail to make a second trial. But we 
 did not now have the advantage of the crowd, and 
 beside, our perseverance at the first had attracted the 
 guard's attention to our person, and so our disguise 
 was forthwith detected, and the wretch obstinately
 
 208 Memories over the Water. 
 
 persisted in refusing ns entrance thus sailing under 
 false colors. Wc now began to think our chances for 
 seeing the Pope that day rather meager ; but were 
 still determined to go in, if artifice could do what 
 honesty had failed in. Just at this time a stranger 
 came along with a dress-coat, but having a walking- 
 cane in his hand. This latter was also a contraband 
 article, and the guard rushed after its possessor with 
 the purpose of turning him back. Now, thought we, 
 is the time for a bold move ; and immediately acting 
 upon the suggestion, we glided softly in behind the 
 sentinel, in pursuit of the man with the cane. But 
 the fates seemed against us ; we were again foiled, 
 and both the strano-er and ourself were brouf^ht back 
 to the door by the impervious sentinel, who would 
 not be moved either by love or money, and who was 
 now waxing wroth at our obstinate encroachments. 
 "We had now almost despaired ; both fair means and 
 foul had been tried without avail ; nothing but the 
 swallow-tail would do, and that we did not have. 
 But just at this crisis of affairs, a kind-hearted priest 
 who was standing by, and who had been witness to 
 our several shifts, stepped in and spoke to the Captain 
 of the Guard. This was all-sufScient. The courteous 
 soldier immediately came out, and taking us under 
 his wing, the frock-tail passed triumphantly through. 
 A blessing, say we, on the head of that kind priest, 
 and worthy captain. 
 
 Being now fairly entered, we took our seat, and 
 awaited with some impatience the entrance of Pius
 
 Memories over Tiit: Water, 209 
 
 IX. One by one the gray-headed and decrepid car- 
 dinals came dropping in, with their red silk caps 
 upon their white locks, and fullowcd by two or three 
 train-bearers to hold up their long and flowing red 
 robes. Finally about twenty of these goodly veterans 
 had assembled, as also a number of English and 
 American spectators, a few ladies, several foreign 
 ambassadors with their attaches, and a small sprink- 
 ling of the French soldiery. 
 
 The Sistine Chapel is not at all striking in its 
 
 appearance, being quite small, and by no means so 
 
 rich in its internal ornaments as we had been led to 
 
 suppose. After patiently waiting for about one hour, 
 
 the choir suddenly struck up, and the Pope, entering 
 
 by a side-door to the right, marched slowly out before 
 
 the altar, and meekly bowing as he passed, kept on 
 
 his way, and took his seat under a silken canopy on 
 
 the left. Here he received the cardinals, who one by 
 
 one approaching, had the honor of kissing — not his 
 
 toe — but his covered hand. The choir still continued 
 
 its chanting ; and occasionally the peculiar voice of 
 
 the eunuch might be distinguished, rising in clear 
 
 mellow tones above the swell of the dcep-toncd organ. 
 
 At times one of the priests would respond, while 
 
 now and then the Pope himself would rise from his 
 
 seat — when a couple of cardinals would elevate the 
 
 pontifical bonnet — and muttering a few words in 
 
 Latin sit down again. Meanwhile the incense was 
 
 being burned until the whole room was filled witii its 
 
 fragrance. During the celebration a young man.
 
 210 Memories over the Water. 
 
 dressed somewliat differently from the rest, and who, 
 we were told, was a Roman noble, arose from his 
 seat and made an address to his Holiness, standing 
 with his cap on. We could not comprehend what 
 was said ; but the gesture of the young orator was 
 very good, and his delivery firm and graceful. But 
 at last the ceremony was concluded, and we were 
 glad to escape, making our way from the Sistine 
 Cliapel into the Church of St. Peter.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 On the morning of the second day of November, 
 1851, we started out from our hotel, and made our 
 ■way along the Corso up to the Coliseum. We 
 were, indeed, in Home — that one thought was ever 
 crowding on our mind, and with the poet we were 
 wont to say: 
 
 And I am there ! 
 
 Oh I little thought I, when in school I sat, 
 
 A school-boy on his bench, at early dawn, 
 
 Glowing with Roman story, I should live 
 
 To tread the Appian, once an avenue. 
 
 Of monuments most glorious, palaces. 
 
 Their doors sealed up and silent as the night — 
 
 The dwellings of the illustrious dead. 
 
 The Corso, so called from the races that are run 
 upon it, is the principal street in Home, running 
 directly through the city, leading from the Capitoline 
 Hill or thereabouts, down to the Piazza del Popolo. 
 During the carnival a company of horses, unbridled 
 and unbacked, are started from the Capitoline, and 
 made to run to the Piazza, amid the clattering of tin 
 pans and infernal yells, going at break-neck speed 
 through the entire length of the city. Proceeding up 
 
 (211)
 
 212 Memories ovek the Water. 
 
 this street, we came first to the " Basilica of Con- 
 stantine," with its huavy, towering arches of brick ; 
 the old ruin now converted into a ha3"-market. A 
 shower of rain coming up we sought shelter under 
 the walls of the old Roman Amphitheater. Yes ! we 
 stood within that arena, on which have been enacted 
 scenes of horror and immortal courage. We have 
 stood there under the broad blaze of the noon-day 
 sun, and in the calm hour of the silent night. The 
 moon shone down on the mighty ruin, as we strolled 
 under the far-reaching shadows, pouring a flood of 
 silver light through the craggy windows, and silence 
 sat like a mantle on the scene, broken only by the 
 challenge of the soldier on guard, or by the hooting 
 of the owl upon the Palatine. Yes ! night and soli- 
 tude are the fit trappings of decaying splendor. At 
 such a time the Coliseum encircles you like some vast, 
 unearthly thing, one sees in dreams. Up, up to 
 the very heavens, rise the dark remnants of its 
 Titanic form. The black depths of its arches ; the 
 shadowy outline of its lofty walls ; the solitude of its 
 myriad scats ; the sight of the cold stars above ; the 
 huge ruin around — all conspire to impress the mind 
 that 
 
 While stands the Coliseum Rome shall stand ! 
 When falls the Coliseum, Rome shall fall ! 
 And when Rome falls — the world ! 
 
 But what a tumult of thoughts come rushing on 
 the mind as one stands upon the sandy arena of the 
 Coliseum ; where tlie godlike martyr hath died,
 
 Memoriics ovkk 'jnic Waiku. 213 
 
 because lie wouUl not deny his tUith ; wlicrc woman, 
 frail and fickle woman, hatli imflincliingly met the 
 fagot and the wild beast, rather than surrender 
 her hope of heaven ; where the daring gladiator 
 hath drooped his dying head ; his immortal spirit 
 sent a victim to the cruel pleasures of a barbarous 
 age, and where the wild denizen of the forest, 
 foaming with rage and famished with hunger, hath 
 plunged to meet the keen steel of his brave and 
 active combatant, weltering the ground with his 
 gore. 
 
 How mournful, yet how beautiful, does the spirit of 
 Byron haunt, with its imperishable verse, this city of 
 the soul. There is scarcely a ruin, tomb or temple to 
 which his genius has not given a deeper charm. The 
 voice of Manfred speaks in the sepulchral moonlight 
 of the Coliseum, and the wandering Harold muses 
 over the melancholy destiny of earthly glory in the 
 Palace of the Cnssars ; here, in this solemn scene of a 
 whole country's desolation, his own passion and his 
 faults are dumb, and in all the beauty of a holy 
 calling he lays the oflcring of his inspiration and his 
 sorrow on a nation's urn. If the errors of a way- 
 ward disposition, and the abuse of higli talents may 
 be atoned for, this might, alone, obtain it. So wo 
 thought, at least, as we stood, by night, and looking 
 on the Coliseum, thought on these lines : 
 
 I do reuicmbcr nic, that in rny youth, 
 Wlicn I was ■w^andcriiig — upon such a night, 
 I stood within the Coliseum's walls.
 
 214 Memories over the Water. 
 
 Midst the chief relics of almighty Rome ; 
 The trees, ■svhich grew along the broken arches, 
 Waved dark in the blue midnight, and the stars 
 Shone through the rents of ruin ; from afar 
 The watch-dog bayed beyond the Tiber, and 
 More near, from out the Cajsar's Palace came 
 The owl's long cry, and interruptedly. 
 Of distant sentinels the fitful song 
 Began and died upon the distant wind. 
 
 According to the data of liistory, the amphitheater 
 was founded by Vespasian, A. D. T2, and completed 
 by Titus, A. D. 80. At its dedication five thousand 
 wild beasts were slain in the arena. In its perfect 
 state it was capable of seating eighty-seven thousand 
 spectators. From the Coliseum we next went to the 
 old Roman Forum : 
 
 The forum, -where the immortal accents glow — 
 
 And still the eloquent air breathes, burns with Cicero. 
 
 Excavations were, at the time, being made upon the 
 old site of the Forum, and many objects of interest 
 had been revealed within the past few years. Tri- 
 umphal arches and scattered groups of marble pillars 
 stood now about us ; memorials, sad and silent, of 
 the days that have passed. Next we visited the Chapel, 
 built upon the site of the prison, where, according to 
 the tradition, St. Peter and St. Paul were confined. 
 While in this consecrated building Col. Kimmel, of 
 Baltimore — the Pickwick of our party — had his 
 pocket picked of his handkerchief, and the humorous 
 laments he made on losing such an article in such a 
 place, caused us to laugh until our sides ached.
 
 Memories over the Water. 215 
 
 Ascending to the summit of the Capitoline we saw 
 the "Senator of Rome" as he came out of his Palace 
 to get into his carriage. His coach, like those 
 of the Cardinals and other high officers in Rome, 
 was exceedingly gaudy, with fancifully-dressed driver 
 and footman. Two other carriages containing his 
 attaches, generally follow the coach of his excellency. 
 
 On the following day we set out on a systematic 
 survey of what is yet left of the once glorious 
 inheritance of Rome. First we saw the Church of 
 Santa Maria del Popolo, where is the tomb of the 
 Princess Odescalchi. A well-executed marble lion 
 is represented as looking up at an eagle perched 
 up in a bronze tree above his head, while a long 
 mantle of porphyry sweeps in heavy folds down 
 to its base. There is, also, here a horrible image of 
 death. 
 
 Standing in front of the obelisk, in the center of 
 the " Piazza del Popolo," and looking up toward the 
 city, you face the Corso, which is flanked on the right 
 by the Ripetta, and on the left by the Babuino — three 
 of the principal streets in Rome, all of which termi- 
 nate, as the radii of a circle, in the Piazza del Popolo. 
 On the left rises the Pincian Hill, the favorite drive 
 and promenade of the modern Romans. 
 
 Went now to the studio of Canova, then occupied 
 by one of his pupils. Saw here some beautiful sculp- 
 tures; especially an Eve, standing in an attitude of 
 sorrow and remorse, while the bitten apple lies at her 
 feet, and the conquering serpent is coiled around a
 
 216 Memories over the Water. 
 
 tree at her side. Also, a very pretty little group, 
 called, Time Lost. It represents a little boy, of white 
 marble, busily and wonderingly engaged in the 
 endeavor to wash away the sooty color of a young 
 African's face. Went into the Church of "San 
 Lorenzo, in Lucina," to see the celebrated Crucifixion 
 by Guido Reni. As we entered the Priest was per- 
 forming service, and the painting w^as vailed ; yet a 
 few coppers from our "valet de place" sufficed to 
 remove the curtain, and we had a fair view of the 
 famous picture. We could not discover any extraor- 
 dinary beauty in the work, and would not ape an 
 admiration that we could not feel, simply because 
 the painting was a celebrated one. Went next to 
 Monte Citerio — a fine Piazza. Saw there the solar 
 obelisk, erected at Helipolis by Psammeticus the first, 
 king of Egypt, and brought to Rome and placed iu 
 the Campus Martins, by Augustus. Saw the old 
 temple of Antoninus, with its eleven Corinthian 
 columns, serving as a front to the present custom- 
 house. Went into several other churches; among 
 them " Santa Maria in Yia Lata," supposed to be 
 built on the spot once occupied by the house in w4iicli 
 St. Paul lived ; also, the Church of St. Mark, where 
 the body of the Evangelist is deposited ; also, the 
 Pantheon — "Pride of Rome" — built by Marcus 
 Agrippa, A. D. 2G. This famous building has passed 
 from the Pagan to the Christian worship, and stands 
 one of the most wonderful monuments of antiquity. 
 Its vast dome is its chief attraction. Next we
 
 Memories over the Water. 217 
 
 ascended the Capitoline Hill. The i'iiizza is orna- 
 mented with a fine fountain, uitli colossal statues, in a 
 recumbent position on either hand, allegorical represen- 
 tations of the Nile and the Tiber. In the center is the 
 bronze equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius, acknowl- 
 edged to be the best piece of bronze workmanship 
 in the world. On the balustrade, at the top of the 
 steps leading to the Piazza, are colossal statues 
 of Castor and Pollux, verv old and somewhat sliat- 
 tered. On the right-hand you have the Senatorial 
 J^ilace, in front the Tower, and on the left the 
 Museum. In the Pahace we saw the bronze wolf, 
 suckling Romulus and Pemus, alluded to by Byron 
 in Ciiilde Harold. The Palace contains, also, many 
 fine frescoes, representing eventful eras in the history 
 of the Empire. Also, went over to the Museum. 
 In the court-yard, beside a little fonntaiu, reclines 
 the somber statue of old Ocean. At the foot of 
 the stairs is the statue of Mars, colossal and striking 
 in its proportions, and rich in its elaborately-carved 
 accouterments. Among myriad other interesting 
 objects that the Museum contains, we may mention 
 the Capitoline Yenus, Pliny's Doves, Loeda and 
 the Swan, Cupid and Psyche, antique Sarcophagi, 
 Antinous, busts and vases innumerable, and, finally, 
 the statue of the Dying Gladiator. Of all the sculp- 
 ture we have ever seen we give the palm to this 
 immortal piece. Byron has again, over this statue, 
 shed the light of his genius: 
 IS
 
 218 Memokies ovek the Water. 
 
 I see before me the gladiator lie ; 
 He leans upon his hand — his manly brow 
 Consents to death, but conquers agony. 
 And his drooped head sinks gradually low — 
 And through his side the last drops — ebbing slow 
 From the red gash — fall heavy one by one. 
 Like the first of a thunder-shower ; and now 
 The arena swims around him — he is gone. 
 Ere ceased the inhuman shout, which hail'd the wretch 
 who won.
 
 CHAPTEH XXXIV. 
 
 The Tarpeian Rock we found situated in the rear 
 of a small garden on the Capitoline Hill. Its height 
 is by no means so great, as the dreamer in classic 
 shades would probably imagine. Sam Patch would 
 laugh at such a leap. Put there is pointed out the 
 famous spot — 
 
 The steep Tarpeian, fittest goal of Treason's race, 
 
 The Promontory ■whence the Traitor's leap, cured all ambition. 
 
 Next we ascended the Tower of the Capitol, and had 
 an excellent view of both ancient and modern Rome. 
 We had the seven hills here pointed out to us by name; 
 they are not easily distinguished: our "Capitoline" 
 surpasses them all in point of size and beauty. We 
 visited next the Protomotheca, a suite of rooms, con- 
 taining a great many busts, all of them either by the 
 hand of Canova or of some one of his pupils. Thence 
 we proceeded to the Mamertiue Prison, and descended 
 into the dark dungeon, where, according to the Roman 
 Catholic story, both St. Paul and St. Peter were con- 
 fined. We drank from out the spring of water, thai 
 rises up from 'the floor of the bottom-most cell, and 
 which tradition tells miraculously sprung up that St. 
 
 Paul might baptize his converts to the Christian 
 
 (219)
 
 220 Memories over the Water. 
 
 rclio'ion in its holy waters. Our guide presuming, 
 perhaps, upon our ignorance of Scriptural History, or 
 perhaps himself deceived, went so far as to point out 
 the very door, by which the angel conducted St. Peter 
 from Prison. But in this dark vault there is a repre- 
 sentation in bas-relief on brass, showing St. Peter 
 and St. Paul, both in chains, baptising the converted 
 prisoners. St. Paul is pouring the water, from his 
 cap, upon the heads of his repentant brethren. In this 
 dungeon it is stated and believed that Jugurtha was 
 starved to death. 
 
 On the following morning we started off for the 
 church of San Carlo to witness the celebration of some 
 festival, in which the Pope himself was to officiate. 
 On each side of the Corso we found a long line of 
 soldiers drawn up, while from out the windows above 
 floated white and red banners. One by one the 
 gaudy equipages of the Cardinals rolled up, and 
 erelong the Pope himself came, riding in his richly- 
 gilded coach, drawn by six black horses, in fancy 
 trappings, and followed by a troop of dragoons. As 
 the Pope passed between the lines, in his carriage, 
 the soldiery went down on their knees before him, 
 as did also the motley crowd of spectators. On 
 reaching the church his Holiness descended from his 
 coach, and under a close escort, entered into a private 
 apartment of the building. All now entered the 
 church, and soon after the Pope appeared, entering by 
 a side door, and sitting on a throne, that was borne 
 on the shoulders of his attendants, all dressed in long
 
 Memories over the Water. 221 
 
 red rr)bcs. On each side ol' liiiii was carried a broad 
 bunch of the featliers of the peacock, lie waved his 
 hand over the assembly as he passed, muttering mean- 
 w'liile his blessing and his prayers. Again the crowd 
 bent their knees before him ; but as it did not appear 
 that it was required of the Protestant stranger to make 
 this lowly salutation we stood upon our feet, though 
 his Holiness passed within a few feet of our position. 
 We this time had a i'air view of his countenance. 
 He seemed to us a man of some sixty years, and has 
 regular and rather handsome features, though around 
 the corners of his mouth there seemed to lurk an easy, 
 self-complacent expression. On reaching the altar 
 the attendants carefully deposited their precious bur- 
 den, and the service began. It was much the same 
 as that which we had witnessed at the Sistine chapel, 
 and consequently we were well willing to depart on 
 its conclusion. 
 
 The streets of Rome we found horribly filthy. So 
 far as we came in contact with the better class of her 
 citizens, we thought them courteous, civil, and intelli- 
 gent. But beggars are abundant, and a great majority 
 of the populace look ragged and dirty. In liome, as 
 elsewhere in Italy, you arc liable to be cheated if you 
 are not ever watchful — robbed if vou are ne<"lio;ent, 
 and assassinated if you recklessly expose 3'ourself. 
 Of the ladies of Rome Me saw several very beautiful. 
 But as a general thing there is a grossness about 
 them by no means agreeable to a iiistidious taste. 
 Beside the blue eyes of America, the dark-eyed seno-
 
 222 !Mi;mokiks ovkk thk Watkk. 
 
 ritas of Italy would seem positively ugly. Indeed in 
 no land, which our foot hath trod, did we find that 
 degree of general beauty and intelligence that grace 
 "this home of the heart — the land of the "West." 
 But under the combined influence of despotism and 
 ignorance — under the galling chains of a political 
 slavery and a religious thraldom — the Roman citizen 
 has not even the shadow of his former glory. The 
 poor, abject creature that now creeps along her streets 
 would hardly recognize his own ancestry in that day, 
 when the triumphal procession was seen wending its 
 rich and glittering length along the Via Sacra to the 
 Capitol, bending under the weight of golden spoils, 
 and graced by captive kings and princes — humbled at 
 the chariot- wheel of the Roman conqueror. 
 
 On Wednesday, November 5th, we made a thorough 
 exploration of St. Peter's. This building is computed 
 to be 613 feet in length, 434 in total height, covers 
 240,000 square feet, and its erection cost 50,000,000 
 dollars. We first ascended to the roof, by a winding 
 staircase, up which a lady may ride on horseback. 
 The roof of St. Peter's afibrds a fine view of Rome. 
 We then mounted to the first gallery of the dome, 
 which for the purpose of a "whispering gallery" is 
 much better than St. Paul's at London. Again we 
 ascended and reached the second gallery. As one 
 looks down from this lofty balcony upon the interior 
 of the church, objects grow indistinct, and men seem 
 like pigmies moving over the tasselated floor below. 
 The whole of this most wonderful dome is covered
 
 Memories over tue "Water. 223 
 
 with mosaic work of the finest order. But again wo 
 mount upward, and here is the outside balcony, en- 
 circHng the cap of the dome, whence we had a glori- 
 ous view of the panorama about us. " Excelsior " is 
 still the word, and we clamber up into the very ball, 
 that from below looks like an apple, stuck on the end 
 
 of a rod. Friend F and ourself were the first 
 
 to squeeze in, while several other members of the 
 party followed after. We had a merry time of it, by 
 closing up with our caps and handkerchiefs the small 
 apertures in the ball, through which the light was 
 admitted, and thereby causing darkness, confusion 
 and dismay to the party then ascending. But in the 
 midst of our laughing, rather a solemn feeling would 
 come over us ; as we reflected for a moment wliat a 
 ridiculous figure we would cut, if our iron cage, 
 perched some 425 feet above the earth, should sud- 
 denly take it into its head to topple from its precarious 
 position, and bounding over all opposing obstacles 
 come clattering to the ground. But we were destined 
 to the performance of no such "ground and lofty 
 tumbling.-' "We came safely down, and felt a spirit 
 of thankfulness in our heart, when our foot pressed 
 again the "terra firma." But we feel utterly inade- 
 quate to any description of the beauty, the splendor, 
 the wonder of St. Peter's. It is a glorious structure— 
 a proud and lasting monument to the genius of man. 
 Its rich and powerful and colossal statuary, its sarco- 
 phagi and its altars, its paintings and its gilded dome,
 
 224: Memories over the Water. 
 
 its columns and its mosaics, its tassclated floor and 
 its glowino; hic^li-altar, all combined to form one of 
 tlie most gorgeous and imposing sights that earth 
 can boast. We can only say with Byron, that — 
 
 " Majesty, 
 Power, glory, strength and beauty, all are aisled 
 In this eternal ark of worship undefiled." 
 
 On the next day we again went forth upon a sight- 
 seeing excursion. First we visited Csesar's Palace — 
 now nothing more than a mass of moldcring brick 
 arches, with its grounds laid out in cabbage beds. 
 Next to the Campanile Tower, and descended into 
 the Vivarium — a series of long and arched vaults, 
 dark as Erebus and abounding in pools of water. 
 It is said that here were confined the wild beasts, 
 destined for exhibition at the Coliseum. Thence to 
 the Church of " San Stephano Kotondo," passing on 
 our way under the arch of Dolabella, which, by the by, 
 is a great humbug. The interior of San Stephano is 
 lined with barbarous paintings in fresco, representing 
 scenes of martyrdom in the time of the early Chris- 
 tians. Thence to the Lateran Piazza, with its Egyp- 
 tian obelisk, the largest in Pome, and corresponding 
 with the one in the Piazza del Popolo. Went over 
 the " ?.Iuscum Gregorianum," with its colossal statue 
 of Antinous ; the sarcophagus of Bacchus ; the mosaic 
 of our Saviour with St. Peter and St. Paul ; the two 
 ancient pillars found in the bed of the Tiber; the 
 black marble stag ; and the fine statue of Sophocles,
 
 Memories over the Water. 225 
 
 recently discovered and considered the gem of the 
 collection. Went into the Latcran Palace, and saw 
 there a copy of the "Flagellation of St. Gregory" 
 — an elegant and speaking painting. In another 
 chamber are two fine copies of the Assumption and 
 Annunciation as also a dashing, full-length portrait 
 o/ George IV, of England. Saw the Saloon of the 
 Gladiators, its floor being entirely covered with fine 
 antique mosaic, found in the Baths of Caracalla, 
 and representing, in sixty-three separate plates, the 
 various actors, in diflerent scenes, on the arena of the 
 Coliseum — the gladiator, the boxer, the racer, the 
 wrestler and the conqueror. Next we went to the 
 church of St. John Lateran, in whose center is erected 
 a beautiful Gothic Tabernacle, and there, among 
 many other sacred relics, repose^ as you are told^ 
 the heads of St. Peter and St. Paul. In this church 
 we were shown (believe it who will) the identical 
 table on which our Saviour celebrated the last supper ; 
 and in the cloister of Constantine, the marble curbing, 
 that once stood over the well of Samaria ; the por- 
 phyry slab, on which the soldiers played for the gar- 
 ments of our Saviour ; a pillar that was rent in twain 
 at his death ; and many other such curious relics, 
 equally interesting and authentic. Such fabulous in- 
 ventions, sanctioned by Holy Church and propagated 
 by her ministers, are ample proof of the ignorance 
 and superstition of the masses in Rome, as well as the 
 deceptions practiced by her Priesthood. The poor 
 
 10
 
 226 Memories over the Water. 
 
 peasant and the pauper implicitly believe the stories 
 thus trumped up, and as the long-robed priest, (who 
 must be paid for his information,) leads the intel- 
 ligent traveler among these holy relics, v^ith an assur- 
 ance that is absolutely farcical, he will put off the 
 same preposterous stories on him.
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 On the outskirts of Eomc there is a little church, 
 called the Chapel of St. Salvadorc. The marble 
 steps that lead up into the building are said to be 
 the same by which our Saviour descended from the 
 presence of Pontius Pilate, when condemned to death 
 by that prelate. They were taken, it is supposed, 
 from the Tribunal of Justice at Jerusalem, and 
 brought over to Pome. Now in such veneration are 
 these steps held, that they are never ascended save on 
 the knees. They are, moreover, covered with plank, 
 which is worn smooth by the constant friction. 
 Several coatings of plank, we were told, had been worn 
 out, and replaced by a new covering. On several of 
 the steps there are holes through which the marble is 
 visible, and where the penitent children of Holy 
 Church pause and devoutly kiss the cold rock. Now 
 we had no such superstitious reverence for these stairs 
 as the many Romans about us — in fact we did not 
 at all credit the story of their having been trod by 
 the foot of our Saviour — but yet, for the mere men- 
 tion of the thing, we concluded that we, too, would 
 make the ascent on our knees. Price, who was ever 
 ready for something novel in its way, agreed to join 
 
 ' ( 227 ) '
 
 228 Memories ovek the Water. 
 
 us. The rest of the company declined, excepting our 
 knight of the razor, who followed most devoutly 
 behind. There were a good many pilgrims on the 
 " Santa Scala," when we started, the majority in 
 advance, mounting slowly up and muttering their 
 prayers as they ascended. The enterprise proceeded 
 very well with us at first, until we began to feel our 
 knees grow sore from pressing against the hard 
 plank, and we almost repented of our undertaking. 
 But go back on our knees we could not, and to place 
 a foot upon the steps would be to outrage the public 
 opinion of all Rome. "VVe therefore, with most 
 irreverent haste, pressed on, scrambling past several 
 devout old ladies, who looked with astonishment 
 upon our sacrilegious speed, and probably oifered a 
 prayer that we might escape the clutches of Satan for 
 our rash temerity. We had so far, however, preserv- 
 ed a grave face, until, looking back, we observed the 
 burly form of Frank Parrish, his hands meekly folded 
 on his breast, slowly ascending the stairs. On reach- 
 ing one of the holes, he too, with all the gravity of a 
 firm believer, bent his lips to the rock. This was too 
 great a provocation to our risible organs, and scuf- 
 fling up as soon as possible to the top to hide our ill- 
 timed merriment, we mentally vowed we would never 
 again undertake the ascent of the " Santa Scala," 
 We were amused at the astonishment expressed by 
 our worthy guide, as he told us that we would cer- 
 tainly be visited that night by some demon of dreams, 
 as a punishment for our profanation. But the demon
 
 Memories over the "Water. 229 
 
 did not come. Near the chapel of St. Salvadore is 
 the shrine at which Pope Benedict XIV, received 
 Charlemagne, on his entrance into Rome. 
 
 Thence we went to the church of " Santa Croce in 
 Gerusalemmc," founded by St. Helena, the mother 
 of Constantine. It is one of the seven Basilicas of 
 Home, and contains an especial piece of the true 
 cross. Next we went to the Porta Maggiore, and 
 looked at the old Roman Aqueduct, by means of 
 which Rome is at this day supplied with M-ater, 
 brought from the neighboring mountains, at a distance 
 of twenty-four miles. Next we saw the Trophy of 
 Marius, nothing more now than a huge pile of brick 
 and rubbish. Then came to the Church of Santa 
 Maria Maggiore, on the Esqueline Ilill, containing 
 the chapel of the Borghese Family, and two rows of 
 Ionic columns, thirty-six in number, and supposed to 
 have belonged to the Temple of Juno. 
 
 Descending the Esqueline, we ascended the Quiri- 
 nal Hill, which is also called Monte Cavallo, from a 
 fine fountain on its summit, decorated with gi-oups of 
 men taming wild horses. One group is the work of 
 Phidias, and the other of Praxiteles — both considered 
 masterpieces of Grecian sculpture. 
 
 Descending again into the city, we passed by the 
 Fontana di Trevi, the handsomest fountain in Rome. 
 The chariot and colossal statue of Neptune, drawn by 
 sea-horses and guided by Tritons, are seated on a 
 mass of numerous rocks, over which the water is 
 pouring in every direction. In the lateral niches are
 
 230 Memories over the Water. 
 
 the statues of Salubrity and Plenty, with Las-reliefs 
 above, representing the interview between Agrippa 
 and the Yirgin who discovered the fountain. The 
 Colonna Gardens next claimed our attention, where 
 we saw some few fragments of the frieze of the Tem- 
 ple of the Sun, and the decayed old trunk of a tree, 
 said to have been planted by Kienzi, the last of the 
 Koman Tribunes. Then the Baths of Constantine, 
 and the Baths of Diocletian. Then the Church of 
 Santa Maria Angeli, built on the plan of the Greek 
 Cross, and said to occupy the site of the grand hall 
 of the Baths of Diocletian. The roof is supported by 
 eight antique granite columns, each a single block, 
 and standing just as they stood in the Baths. They 
 are each fifteen feet in circumference, and forty-five 
 feet in height. Went then into an adjoining chapel, 
 where we were shown the bones of many martyrs ; 
 thence to the cloister of Diocletian, in which now 
 grow the orange, the cypress, the cedar and the cab- 
 bage. The building is occupied as a barrack for the 
 Erench soldiery. Next we visited the studio of Mr. 
 Crawford, an x\merican artist, who has been em- 
 ployed by the State of Virginia to make several 
 colossal statues of her principal heroes. We saw the 
 model of a fine statue of Patrick Henry, with a cloak 
 thrown over his left shoulder, and holding a sword in 
 his right-hand. His arms are stretched forth in the 
 attitude of oratory, and the memorable words — "Give 
 me liberty or give me death"— seem trembling on his 
 lips. These statues are first to be modeled in Rome,
 
 Memories over the Water. 231 
 
 and then taken to Municli and cast in the famous 
 Bronze Foundry of that city. Next we saw the Porta 
 Salaria, where occurred the rape of the SaLines. 
 Looked over into the Gardens of Salhist, and thence 
 to the Villa Albani, one of the most celebrated in 
 Rome, and abounding in busts, bas-reliefs, bronzes, 
 box-hedges, flower-gardens, and water-fountains. The 
 view of the Alban hills, with their snow-clad tops, is 
 very fine from this villa. Among the antique busts 
 to be found here, we recollect those of Agi'ippa, 
 Brutus, Scipio, Titus, and Themistocles. We made 
 the tour of the building, beginning with the oval 
 chamber, with its fawns and marble vase ; the cabinet 
 of Mosaic, with the bronze statue of Apollo, described 
 by Pliny ; a bust of the hump-backed JEsop, and a 
 statuette of the Farnese Ilercules ; the saloon, a 
 beautiful marble hall, with statues of Jove and Pallas, 
 and a bas-relief, representing the taming of Buce- 
 phalus by Alexander ; the cabinet of bas-reliefs, the 
 best of which is the one representing the interview 
 between Diogenes and Alexander. The cynic philo- 
 sopher is sitting in his tub, and motions to the con- 
 queror of the world to move out of his sunshine ; 
 cabinet of the Vase, so called from the magnificent 
 white marble vase, situated in the center of the apart- 
 ment ; the vase is twenty-two feet in circumference, 
 and bears on its outward rim, in bas-relief, the 
 labors of Ilercules. With the Billiard-room and 
 Coflee-house we finished up the villa, and returned to 
 our hotel.
 
 232 Memories over the "Water, 
 
 "While in Rome we generally occupied the entire 
 day, from an early breakfast to dinner hour, at six 
 o'clock, p. M., in sight-seeing. Dinner generally 
 occupied an hour or two, strict attention being given 
 to the numerous courses, ab ovo bisque malum. 
 During the intervals the eyes of our party were gene- 
 rally directed either to the Eussian bride, the Scotch 
 girls, or the ladies from France. The bride from the 
 Bnowy clime, however, bore away the palm. Such a 
 complexion, and such teeth ! and then so young, and 
 such a husband ! It was beauty and the beast. But 
 dinner over, we would repair to our private parlor — 
 provided we were confined within doors by the 
 
 rain — when the romp would invariably ensue. K 
 
 was our Pickwick, and E our orator. The latter, 
 
 feeling again the spirit of earlier days, would make 
 the center-table his rostrum, and under the local 
 influence of the Roman Forum, give us a touch of 
 Ciceronian oratory. "We recollect the subject of one 
 address — Light; in the which our patriarch did 
 discourse most learnedly of the difierence between 
 a wax and a tallow candle. His arguments were 
 unanswerable, being enforced by the most touching 
 appeals to our past experience in our travel through 
 Italy. At the close of the exciting peroration, the 
 enthusiastic orator would spring from the table, and 
 throwing himself into a trao-ic attitude, challenire the 
 whole squad of us to combat. The glove was im- 
 mediately taken up, and a promiscuous battle-royal 
 would ensue. Lights were blown out, heavy pillows
 
 JUemories over the Water. 233 
 
 wielded by lusty hands flashed in tlio air, tables were 
 upturned, chairs smashed, and more than one sofa 
 rendered hors du comhat from the loss of a leg. 
 F and J rolled over and over in close cm- 
 brace, E and F tugged away at each other 
 
 in one corner, while McG and ourself indulged 
 
 in cart and tierce exercise with a couple of formida- 
 ble bolsters. The prude Englishman and the sprucy 
 son of Gaul heard with holy horror the tumult in the 
 Yankee quarter; while the eyes of the elegant waiter 
 grew to the size of saucers, as he opened the door and 
 looked in on the chaos of objects, animate and inani- 
 mate. But still "the combat deepens" — the work 
 goes bravely on — until at last weak from our rapid 
 exercise and exhausted with laughter, avc threw 
 ourself upon the bed, and suffered our victorious 
 opponent to beat away at his pleasure. And well 
 did he improve upon his advantage, for with "neither 
 strength in our arm nor mercy in our woe," he 
 pounded away, until our aching sides suggested the 
 necessity for a retreat. It was our only remedy — the 
 'dernier ressort' — and so jumping up, we ingloriously 
 
 fled, but with the tireless McG in hot pursuit, down 
 
 the long passage toward the stairway, his flaming 
 locks flying in the wind, and the infernal bolster still 
 dangling on his arm. On our way we encountered a 
 lady returning to her room, but who on seeing the 
 fierce charge of the fieiy " Tennesseean," also turned 
 about and fled. But on we rushed, close upon her
 
 234 Memokies over the ^yATER. 
 
 heels, and reaching the head of the staircase glided 
 down with marvelous rapidity ; not so fast, however, 
 that we did not hear the quick whiz of that same old 
 bolster, as it came flashing by our head, hurled from 
 the hand of the doughty knight above, but who being 
 slightly " en dishabille^'''' did not dare venture any 
 farther.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI 
 
 On the mornins: of the 10th of November the heavy 
 clowls, which had so long hung the heavens in 
 mourning, were brushed away, and we beheld old 
 Rome baskino; in the li2:ht of a clear and cloudless 
 sky. The yellow Tiber was up and booming, and 
 the descendants of the ancient Romans stood upon its 
 banks to look in wonder and admiration on the 
 rushing waters. But we had been upon the broad 
 bosom of the mighty Mississippi, so that the Tiber, 
 in all the majesty of its flooded banks, seemed but a 
 muddy rivulet in comparison. 
 
 Tiiat morninoj we entered the Vatican in the wake 
 of a beautiful English woman. Slfe threw the fine 
 arts into the shade, and it was some time before we 
 could descend to the worship of Raphael. We began 
 first with the Library, but not having a permit from 
 the Pope, we were refused a sight of the books and 
 manuscripts, all of which are shut up in countless 
 drawers. The great hall of the Library is a mag- 
 nificent room. The entire floor is laid with beauti- 
 fully polished marble, and both the walls and the 
 ceilings are covered with paintings in fresco. But 
 lookini? at these frescoed ceilings is cnouirh to break 
 
 ( '235 )
 
 236 Memories ovek the Water. 
 
 the neck of a Hercules. It is worse than star-gazing. 
 How they were ever painted so well we cannot con- 
 ceive. Our artistic enthusiasm would soon evaporate, 
 if compelled to lie on our back and paint upward. 
 But we had begun to doubt our own taste in regard 
 to painting ; it did not coincide with the established 
 despotism. We had been barbarian enough to admire 
 pictures of little reputation, and to see but little beauty 
 in some of the masterpieces of the world. However, 
 it may be a blessing not to be a connoisseur ; one can 
 admire without being condemned, and condemn with- 
 out being regarded. In the long gallery we saw an 
 exquisitely sweet face of the young Augustus, in Parian 
 marble. This gallery is called the Corridor of Inscrip- 
 tions, on account of the walls being literally lined 
 with antique inscriptions found among the ruins of 
 ancient Rome. In the square vestibule is the Belvi- 
 dere Torso; a fragment of Ilerciiles in repose, and 
 greatly admired by Michael Angelo. Here, also, is 
 the sarcophagus of Scipio. From the Round Vesti- 
 bule we passed into the Portico, which is graced by 
 some of the most noted sculpture in the world. In 
 the first cabinet on tlie riglit we found the Boxers, 
 and also Perseus with the head of the Medusa — all 
 by the hand of Canova. In the second cabinet is 
 the Belvidere Mercury. Next comes the original 
 group of Laocoon and his two sons. It is said, by 
 Pliny, that this celebrated piece of sculpture formerly 
 occupied a place in the Palace of Titus, and that it 
 was executed conjointly by three Phodian sculptors —
 
 Memories ovei: the Watek. 237 
 
 AL'esandcr, Polidorus and Athenodorus. The follow- 
 ing lines, from the pen of Byron, lend additional inter- 
 est to this group, while they illustrate the Trojan story: 
 
 Or turning to the Vatican, to see 
 
 Laocoon's dignifj'ing pain, 
 
 A father's love and mortal's agony, 
 
 With an immortal's patience blending ; vain 
 
 The struggle ; vain against the coiling strain, 
 
 And gripe, and deep'ning of the dragon's grasp. 
 
 The old roan's clench ; the long envenom'd chain 
 
 Rivets the living links ; the enormous asp 
 
 Enforces pang on pang, and stifles gasp on gasp. 
 
 The last cabinet of the Portico contains the Belvi- 
 dere Apollo, considered one of the finest statues of 
 antiquity. Immediately following the above verse, 
 from Childe Harold, will be found this description of it: 
 
 Or view the lord of the unerring bow, " 
 The god of life, and poesy, and light — 
 The sun in human limbs array 'd and brow 
 All radiant from his triumph in the fight ; 
 The shaft hath just been shot — the arrow bright 
 With an immortal's vengeance ; in his eye 
 And nostril beautiful disdain, and might. 
 And majesty flash their full lightnings by. 
 Developing in that one glance the deity. 
 But in his delicate form — a dream of love, 
 Shaped by some solitary nymph, whose breast 
 Longed for a deathless lover from above, 
 And madden'd ia that vision — are expressed 
 All that ideal beauty ever blessed 
 •The mind with, in its most unearthly mood, 
 When each conception was a heavenly guest — 
 A ray of immortality — and stood 
 Starlike around, until they gathered to a god.
 
 238 Memories over the Water. 
 
 We next, successively, went through the Hall of 
 Animals; the Gallery of Statues; the Hall of Busts; 
 the Cabinet of Masks ; the Hall of the Muses ; the 
 Sala Rotunda, and the Hall of the Greek Cross ; all 
 abounding in antique statuary. We now ascended 
 the beautiful staircase of Carrara marble, and entered 
 the Hall of the Eiga ; so called from a beautiful 
 chariot, drawn by two horses, which occupies its 
 center, and all of pure white marble. Then came 
 another gallery, replete with vases, cups, bas-reliefs, 
 busts and candelabra. Following this corridor to its 
 end we next entered the long Tapestry Gallery ; so 
 called from immense pictures of tapestiy which 
 occupy its walls, and principally subjects taken from 
 Biblical History. From this we were led into the 
 
 Geographical Gallery, down which P andourself 
 
 took a foot-race, much to the ire of our worthy patri- 
 arch, who thought such conduct, in the Palace of the 
 Pope, utterly disgraceful. Next we saw the Vatican 
 Tapestries, executed on the cartoons of Raphael, and 
 afterward entered the Picture Gallery. Here is the 
 Transfiguration, the Madonna di Foligno, and a host 
 of frescoes, in what are called the Loggia of Raphael. 
 With this we finished up the Vatican ; a few statis- 
 tical facts of whose history may not be uninteresting. 
 It is built upon one of the seven hills of Rome, and 
 covers a space of twelve hundred feet in length and 
 one thousand in breadth. It occupies the site of the 
 gardens of Nero, but owes its origin to the Bishop of 
 Rome, who, in the early part of the sixteenth century,
 
 Memories over the "Water, 239 
 
 erected there a humble residence. About the year 
 1150 Pope Eugenius rebuilt it on a grand scale. Inno- 
 cent the 2d, a few years aftcrwai-d, gave it np as a 
 lodging to Peter the 2d, King of Arragon. In 1305 
 Clement the 5th, at the instigation of the King of 
 France, removed the Papal See of Rome to Avignon, 
 when the Vatican remained in a condition of obscurity 
 and neglect for more than seventy years. But soon 
 after the return of the pontifical court to Rome in 
 1376, the Vatican was put into a state of repair, and 
 was thenceforward considered the regular palace and 
 residence of the Popes, who, one after another, added 
 new buildings to it, and gradually enriched it with 
 antiquities, statues, pictures and books, until it has 
 become the richest depository in the world. The 
 Library was commenced fourteen hundred years 
 ago, and contains four hundred thousand manu- 
 scripts, among which are some by Pliny, St. Thomas, 
 St. Charles Borromeo, and many Ilcbrew, Syriac, 
 Arabian and Armenian Bibles. And then when it 
 is known that there have been exhumed more than 
 seventy thousand statues from the ruined temples 
 and palaces of Rome — the best of which have been 
 deposited in the Vatican — the reader can form some 
 idea of the extent and riches of this building. So 
 much then for our visit to the Vatican. 
 
 As it is impossible to do justice to the many objects 
 of interest to be seen in Rome, we will just mention 
 the most prominent that came within the scope of our 
 researches. The list for the 11th of November ran as
 
 240 Memories ovku the Water, 
 
 follows: Theater of JMarcelliis ; Portico of Octavia ; 
 the Fabrician Bridge ; the Tiberiau Island ; the 
 Romanura Populwn trans Tihevum^ and the Porta 
 Ripa Grande, where we found some little shipping, 
 an immense custom-house, and a great abundance of 
 codfish, all the way from America. Saw the ruins 
 of the house of Kienzi, where Pilate is said to have 
 resided during his sojourn in Eome. Saw the church 
 of St. Nicholas, built on the site of the prison, where 
 the father of the Roman daughter was confined, and 
 his life sustained by nourishment from his child's 
 breast. This beautiful incident has not escaped the 
 muse of Byron, who thus speaks of the Roman story: 
 
 The starry fable of the milky way 
 
 Has not thy story's purity ; it is 
 
 A constellation of a sweeter ray, 
 
 And sacred nature triumphs more in this. 
 
 Reverse of her decree, than in the abyss 
 
 Where sparkle distant worlds ; oh ! holiest nurse ! 
 
 No drop of that pure stream shall miss its way, 
 
 To thy sire's heart, replenishing its source 
 
 With life, as our freed souls rejoin the Universe. 
 
 Saw the remains of the Palatine Bridge, the Temple 
 of Fortuna Yirilis ; of Vesta, and of Janus. Went to 
 the entrance of Cloaca Maxima ; the immense sewer 
 constructed for the purpose of draining Rome. Saw 
 the Bocca della Yerita — one of the mouths of an an- 
 cient oracle — in the church of Santa Maria in Cosrae- 
 din. Visited the Pyramid of Caius Cestius out by the 
 Ostia Gate. Crossed over the rising of the Tiber, on 
 the Via Ostia, by means of a mule cart, and went to
 
 Memories oveh the Water. 211 
 
 see the Basilica of St. Paul. AVhcn coinpletcd this 
 church will prove a most iiia[;;nificent allair. Its 
 nave is supported by eighty huge granite columns of 
 the finest polish. On our return, along by the banks 
 of the Tiber, we stopped at the foot of the Aventine 
 hill to look at a team of European buffaloes, attached 
 to a cart as we do our oxen. Thence we went to the 
 Barbarini Palace, which possesses one of the most 
 interesting pictures in Rome — the head of Beatrice 
 Cenci, by Guide. The face is one of the most beauti- 
 ful in the world — just the one to go mad about. It is 
 an astonishing performance which defies reproduction ; 
 an off-hand dash of inspiration which the artist, him- 
 self, could not have repeated. There is no limb 
 visible — nothing but a draped face. Shelley has 
 given a truthful analysis of its expression. Tradition 
 would have us believe that this portrait was taken the 
 evening before her execution ; but it needs no such 
 artificial aid to rivet one's attention. There is that 
 indefinable something in the face which sets one a 
 dreaming. It breathes the language of thoughtful, 
 unmerited suffering ; it is a countenance that comes 
 long after, at your bidding, from the depths of 
 memory, and almost persuades you it was once your 
 friend. We have met one face that was something 
 like it; 'twas not in the clime of the Roman daugh- 
 ter, but on the soil of far-western shores. The voice 
 of the mountain stream did murmur, from out its 
 mossy bed, a sullen song ; the flashing cascade, un 
 spanned by the attendant Iris, dashed angrily down 
 20
 
 242 Memories ovek the Water. 
 
 the wave-worn cliff; the storm-king, like some Titanic 
 monster, rode his heavy steed far down the dark pa- 
 villion ; the hoarse wind surged madly through the 
 forest, until its proudest monarchs bowed their heads ; 
 the thunder echoed among the mountain-peaks, and 
 the forked lightning flashed along the solemn sky. 
 But there was a fountain of sunlight in fondest eyes, 
 and lo ! 'mid the fury of the storm, and througli the 
 craggy clouds above, burst down one golden gleam to 
 mingle with that spirit-light. The fire from Heaven 
 glowed upon a holy altar, and the two young hearts 
 that worshiped there, did know their vows accepted. 
 Though from the Earth it die darkling out, yet, as 
 from the great Source and through the dense panoply 
 of gloom it came, so shall it backward stream, even 
 through the shadows of death, and lend sweet luster 
 to the light of the Spirit-land.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 While in Rome vca saw the Prince Barbarini and 
 the Prince Borghese. The latter was riding leisurely 
 through the streets on horseback, in the midst of a 
 hard rain, Rachel, the tragic actress of Paris, was 
 also in the Eternal City on a visit, whom we had the 
 pleasure of seeing at the Theater. We thought there 
 was a good deal of character in her acting, but rather 
 too much of the tigress. She resembles very much, 
 in personal appearance, Mrs. II , of Xashville. 
 
 In the Protestant burial-ground, near the Porta St. 
 Paulo, are the graves of Shelley and of Keats. 
 Above the grave of Shelley the roses were in bloom, 
 and by his side reposed the ashes of his countryman. 
 The hand of affection was visible in the fresh sod, the 
 flowers, and the smooth cleanliness of the lettered 
 marble ; but over poor Keats the rank grass lay mat- 
 ted and half-decayed ; the broken lyre upon his little 
 slab was almost obliterated, and the dark cypress 
 around only mocked the unsympathizing solitude. 
 In death as in life he seemed an object of neglect. 
 He the most sorrowful-fated — even among the poets — 
 the spirit whose diviner moments gushed forth in 
 
 pong — over whose young years already the wing of 
 
 ( 213 )
 
 244 Mkmokies over the Water. 
 
 death sat brooding, and to whom a " thing of beauty 
 was a joy forever ;" this being, whose stinted exist- 
 ence was but a record of good deeds, sleeps worse 
 than the common herd of mortals. 
 
 On the morning of the 13th of November we went 
 out riding on the Appian Way. We stopped first at 
 the Columbaria, the burial-vaults of the bones and 
 ashes of the slaves of the noble families of ancient 
 Rome, and so called because their internal arrange- 
 ment much resembles a dove-cot or pigeon-house. 
 They consist simply of a square apartment, built 
 under-ground, and ranged round, tier above tier are 
 the niches for the ashes of the dead. These niches 
 are earthen jars, covered with a top. Several of these 
 tops were removed by our companions, and their 
 hands went dabbing down among the ashes and the 
 bones of the warlike Roman, without ever saying — 
 " By your leave, sir ! " We had a custode in our 
 company here, who demanded on our parting a most 
 exorbitant fee for his trouble in showing us around. 
 This we decided not to pay ; but gave him, as we 
 drove off, what we deemed a sufficient bonus lor his 
 services. With all the energy of Italian gesticulation, 
 lie insisted on a greater remuneration, and fretted 
 himself into a towering rage, which was increased to 
 
 fever heat by McG 's performing that expressive 
 
 gyration of the thumb from the tip of the nose at the 
 scamp, as our carriage rattled away. This was more 
 than Roman patience could endure, and so grabbing 
 up a few rocks that lay loosely about, he offered to
 
 Memories over tfie Water. 245 
 
 Btone the carriage. Seeinf^ this, our driver was 
 immediately ordered to hold up; but on preparing to 
 get out the valorous custode forthwith disappeared 
 within the gate. 
 
 We next descended into the Tombs of the Scipios, 
 guarded by a tall and solitary cypress. Thence we 
 went out by the Porta Appia, and stopped at the 
 Basilica of St. Sebastian, where we saw a beautiful 
 marble statue of the patriot saint, represented in a 
 recumbent position, and pierced with four arrows. 
 Here we descended into the great Catacombs at 
 Rome, an immense labyrinth of subterranean caverns, 
 where it is said fourteen of the early Popes and one 
 hundred and seventy thousand Christians were buried. 
 Next we visited the Circus of Romulus. Passed by 
 the huge ruins of the Baths of Caracalla, and visited 
 
 CD J 
 
 the Tomb of Secilia Metella, the finest and best pre- 
 served monument on the Appian. Saw the Temple 
 of Bacchus, and stood at the Fountain of Egeria, where 
 Nuraa Pompilius, the second of the seven Roman 
 Kings, was wont to meet the beauteous nymph, and 
 receive from her instruction how he mijLrht best govern 
 Rome. But it requires more credulity than we pos- 
 sess to believe this grotto to have been the haunt of 
 any nymph. We do not envy Numa the interview, 
 if it took place there. It looks very like a quiz ; 
 even the valet looked doubtful, and when the valet 
 doubts the Devil would not believe. On our return 
 to the city we stopped to have a close inspection of 
 the old Roman Aqueduct. It is constructed by means
 
 246 Memories ovku the Water. 
 
 of a series of arches, and is built of a species of soft 
 stone called Pepperino. Its appearance is exactly 
 that of pepper, and hence we suppose its name. 
 Entered the city by the Porta San Giovanni, and 
 reached our hotel by way of the Coliseum. We then 
 went to the Mausoleum of Augustus, and found it 
 fitted up for, and occupied by, a circus company. 
 What a commentary on life. The bufibon and clown 
 mock and jest over an emperor's tomb. In the after- 
 noon, while coming down the Corso, we encountered 
 the carriage of the Pope, lie was- followed by a 
 second carriage, and behind that a troop of dragoons. 
 Preceding him rode three horsemen, the one after the 
 other, whose duty it was to clear the way for the car- 
 riage of his Holiness. The populace, as usual, bent 
 the knee before him, with head uncovered, as he 
 passed. 
 
 On the next day we went out with J in search 
 
 of some paintings. What we principally sought was 
 a copy of Beatrice Cenci, and of Hope — both by 
 Guido. In the studio of one artist, we were shown 
 the paintings by his pretty wife, who spoke a little 
 English. 
 
 "And is this the only copy of Ilope you have, 
 Madam ?" we inquired. 
 
 " Yes, Sir, the only one," replied the lady. 
 
 " Then it wvjuld be hard to deprive you of your 
 only Hojye^ Madam," returned our friend from the 
 Santee. And so we left without making the purchase. 
 
 But we had now been in Pome for nearly thre^
 
 Memokies over the Water. 247 
 
 weeks, and many of our party were anxious to move 
 on southward. And finally it was agreed by all to 
 go. But first our passports must be put en regie for 
 our departure, and this the American traveler in Italy 
 will find to be no inconsiderable tax. As an item or 
 two in illustration, we had to pay, in order to get out 
 from liome, about four dollars, and out from Naples 
 about seven. But we were in no disposition to grum- 
 ble. Our visit to the Seven hills had been most 
 satisfactory, and we left knowing that we had seen all 
 that was most worthy of note within their compass. 
 We had wandered about here so much that we knew 
 nearly every nook of the Eternal City, from the Coli- 
 seum down to the Porta del Popolo. We have stood 
 upon her Seven hills, and from the solitary summit of 
 Tcstatio have passed in review her glories from the 
 step of Remus to the leap of the Bourbon. We have 
 walked again and again about her walls, and paused 
 daily beneath her monuments to realize the fact that 
 we were in Rome. Like her early youth, she is still 
 a dream ; and often as one roams carelessly through 
 her streets, the sound of " Roma" fulls upon the car 
 with a startling cadence, as if the certainty of her 
 presence was made manifest for the first time to one's 
 bewildered senses. It is not the first glance of Rome, 
 as her towers rise above the plain, that awakens the 
 schoolboy feeling of awe within you, but after you 
 have dwelt aniid her desolation, and iamiliarized 
 yourself with her woe, you feel how truly melancholy 
 has been her fate. She has quafl'ed deeply of the cup
 
 248 Memories oviai nii: Water. 
 
 of conquest, and played the spoiler till the very earth 
 grew weary of her ponderous weight, and now her 
 possessions have been partitioned out like stray old 
 trinkets among the vandal dynasties that she did 
 quicken into life. Yerily, she is the "Kiobe of 
 Nations," and her "dower is present woe." 
 
 On the morninor of the 18th of November we set 
 out from Rome, southward bound, for the city of 
 Naples. "We traveled again by Vetturino, and this 
 time our party filled two carriages. In one were Mr. 
 Thurston and his two sisters. Colonel Kimmel, and 
 fi'iend Johnstone ; in the other Messrs. Ewing, 
 McGavock, Price, Fogg, and ourself, and Frank Par- 
 rish. Including the two drivers, we formed a respect- 
 able party of thirteen persons, and so had but little 
 apprehension of the. banditti, who were reported to 
 infest the route between Pome and Naples. At 
 Albano we had breakfast. Our hotel, called the 
 "Poyal," was formerly a very handsome palace. 
 The view, from its balcony over the Marshes to the 
 Mediterranean, was superb. Our ensuing route was 
 along a wild and picturesque road, leading through 
 Velletri and several other villages, and bringing us 
 about dusk to Cisterna, where we rested for the night. 
 
 On the following morning we were off at an early 
 hour, and soon entered on the famous Pontine Marshes, 
 over whose unbroken level we traveled for about 20 
 miles, and through an interminable avenue of elms 
 that stood on either side of the road. These Marshes 
 consist of a vast body of low, level grounds, over
 
 Memories ovkr iiik Water. 249 
 
 which roam and feed hirge lienls of cattle. We 
 reached Terracina about one o'clock, and took dinner 
 at a very comfortable hotel, situated immediately on 
 tlie shore of the hoarse old Mediterranean. As we 
 sat at the window, watching the waves that came 
 chasing each other to the shore, their long white curls 
 breaking with a dull and heavy sound upon the 
 beach, a host of beggar boys and girls came up and 
 gathered in a crowd below, calling on us for a few 
 baiocchi. On tossing them a copper they would pile 
 themselves up in one promiscuous bundle where the 
 coin fell, frequently losing the coveted prize in the 
 sand, and yet keenly enjoying the rough-and-tumble 
 scuffle. Terracina is built upon the mountain side, 
 its white-walled houses rising, terrace above terrace, 
 for some distance up ; hence we suppose its name. 
 Leaving Terracina the road winds for several miles 
 along the shore of the Mediterranean, and then turn- 
 ing into the interior enters the Neapolitan territory. 
 Here on the border line we were about to have much 
 vexation and delay with the examination of passports 
 and baggage, until the oiling of a few pauls caused 
 papers and luggage to glide with marvelous ease 
 through the hands of these official functionaries. 
 Entered Fondi about dusk, encountering a horde of 
 ferocious, banditti-looking lazzaroni, clad in their 
 long brown cloaks, and scowling from out the heavy 
 caps that dangled over their dark brows. But our 
 company was too numerous to be trifled with, and so 
 we passed on without interruption. 
 21
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 On leaving Fondi we journeyed on till we reached 
 the village called Mola, where we rested for the night. 
 On the day following we passed through the towns of 
 Santa Agata and Casano, arriving at Capua about 
 dark. Here we found every nook and corner in the 
 hotels filled with the military, who, passing through 
 the village, had been mercilessly quartered, without 
 leave or license, in the public houses. Part of our 
 company, in one carriage with the ladies, resolved to 
 go on to Naples, but we, in the other, concluded, in 
 preference to proceeding any farther in the dark and 
 rain, to take whatever accommodations one small 
 room could afibrd for the comfort of five persons. 
 So we kindled a little fire in a brazier, and as we 
 hovered around its scanty warmth, in the cold and 
 dismal room, with the true philosophy of travel, we 
 made merry over our misfortunes. The next morning 
 we rose, in good humor, even with adverse fortune, 
 and" though the rain came down in torrents, at nine 
 o'clock, A. M., we were on the rail and rushing on 
 toward Naples. We reached the city in the midst of 
 a perfect deluge, and as soon as we could get through 
 the custom-house, we all took cabs and started for the 
 
 (250)
 
 Memokies ovKii Tiiii Wateu. 251 
 
 Hotel des Etrangers. As we rattled along the well- 
 paved streets, the rain and the hail came dashing in 
 our faces with such a drenching force as almost to 
 suffocate us. But still we pushed on by the shore of 
 the bay, where the long-swept waves raged and dashed 
 upon the stone piers, causing the heavy spray to fly 
 high above their summits. To add to the gloom of 
 the scene the wreck of a small schooner lay along the 
 shore, around which, in despite of the fierce breakers, 
 gathered a greedy crowd of lazzaroni. Our first view 
 of Naples and its famous bay was, indeed, enough to 
 make us exclaim, " See Naples and die.'''' 
 
 But on the following day the whole aspect of nature 
 was changed. Our hotel we found beautifully located ; 
 lying immediately on the margin of the bay. On 
 risinir in the morning we unclosed our window and 
 looked out upon the scene before us. The surface of 
 the bay was still agitated, and we listened with a 
 well-pleased ear to the sullen roar of the rushing 
 waves, as one by one they dashed their snow-white 
 burdens on the beach, and retired again as if to 
 gather a new supply. Like sportive school-boys 
 they seemed to chase each other to the shore, their 
 crested caps curling in very joy. Over their raging 
 tops danced the white sea-gull, like a warrior's plume 
 above his battered helmet. On looking over the bay 
 the eye caught sight of old Vesuvius, looming up on 
 the opposite shore, with a thin cloud of white smoke 
 curling lazily from the crater. Little sign of anger was 
 visible about the old fellow's brow. He seemed to be
 
 252 Memories over the Water. 
 
 dreaming away, harmless in his quiet slumber, and as 
 if little addicted to those furious spasms that history 
 accords him. Farther off to the right lay the islands 
 of Ischia and Capri, basking in the sweet, bright 
 beams of the morning sun. Our second view of 
 Naples and its famous bay w'as enough to make us 
 exclaim: " See Naples and livey 
 
 Eome has about one hundred and fifty thousand 
 inhabitants, while Naples contains a population of 
 four hundred and fifty thousand. In the latter city 
 there are three hundred churches and thirty-seven 
 asylums. With such charitable provision it is a 
 question for the statesman and the moralist to deter- 
 mine why wretchedness and rags should so abound 
 in her sti'eets. The city is twelve miles in circum- 
 ference, and is defended by three prominent forts — 
 Castel St. Elmo, Castel Nuova, and Castel dell Uovo. 
 The houses are high, with flat roofs; the streets well 
 paved with lava, brought from Vesuvius ; and the 
 water abundant and good. The water is furnished 
 through under-ground aqueducts, and by means of 
 which, it is said, the city has been twice captured by 
 her enemies. The cabs are a miserable set of rattle- 
 traps, and their drivers the most importunate and 
 impudent of rascals. The beautiful bay is terminated 
 on either side by a jutting cape — that of Misenum 
 on the right, and that of Minerva on the left. Just 
 beyond the latter lies the long and picturesque island 
 of Capri, rising abruptly like a camel's back, out of 
 the bay, and serving as a breakwater to the harbor.
 
 Mkmouiks ovF.ii Tiiio ^\^^Tl:I^ 253 
 
 The theater of San Carlo, hard by the Royal Palace, 
 is reputed the largest in the world. Yis-a-vis to the 
 Palace is the church of St. Francis de Faola, with 
 loni' colonnades cxtendincr on the riij-ht-hand and the 
 left, forming a semicircle in front much after the 
 manner of St. Peter's, at Rome. Toward the western 
 end of the city lie tlie public gardens, called the 
 Villa Reale, and filled with fountains, flowers, and 
 finely-finished statuary. 
 
 It would seem that in the very atmosphere of 
 Naples there is something that makes life one lasting 
 smile. The wearisome ennui of idleness is forgotten, 
 and without being in love you become a constant 
 dreamer. Existence is, in itself, a happiness, and 
 this it is, that causes the face of the penniless laz- 
 zaroni to wear as bright a smile as that of the favored 
 son of fortune. We have seen these cast-oflf wretches, 
 without a copper in their pocket, or a meal in per- 
 spective, as merry as the jocund lark. But the laz- 
 zaroni of Naples is a physical phenomenon. They 
 beg, but beg with such a saucy, insolent air, that you 
 hardly know whether they are asking charity or 
 claiming a right. And yet they will study when to take 
 you in your kindest mood, and in walking the street 
 a good-humored expression of countenance is almost 
 sure to be the precursor of an appeal to your benevo- 
 lence. If the petition be disregarded, it is more than 
 probable the applicant will laugh in your face, and 
 move mockingly away.
 
 254 ]\Iemokiks over the Water. 
 
 At the foot of the Villa Eealo, on the shore of the 
 bay, are ever congregated the boats and nets of the 
 fishermen ; and here is the chief rendezvous of the 
 lazzaroni, where they gather in knots, jabbering, ges- 
 ticnhitiug, and capering like so many monkies. On 
 strolling by we stopped to look in one of the fish- 
 baskets, which had just been replenished from the 
 net. On observing this the veteran owner of the 
 fish approached where we were standing, and with a 
 waggish humor in his eye, he took his empty pipe 
 from his mouth, and lovingly tapping the solacer of 
 his sorrows with his fore-finger intimated, by the 
 most expressive pantomine, that he would like for us 
 to fill it up again. 
 
 " But, my friend, I don't use the weed," said we ; 
 whereupon he stared as if shocked at our unculti- 
 vated taste in using such slang phrase. We left him 
 wondering, perhaps, at the bad manners of Americans. 
 
 But the lazzaroni is a fit subject for the study of the 
 philosophic mind. He is the child of nobody ; he does 
 nothing ; he lives on nothing. lie is the poorest of 
 the poor, yet the happiest of the happy. The very air 
 seems to be his parent and his support. He lodges in 
 a fish-basket in the summer, and disappears like the 
 swallow at the approach of winter. His mode of 
 life has not a few advantages ; family cares, family 
 loves, and family quarrels are alike unknown to him; 
 and when you see the little lazzaroni crawling about, 
 like a mud turtle on a log, you take it for granted 
 he is a spontaneous growth, not to be recognized by
 
 Memories over the Water. 255 
 
 the census. He costs the government nothing, and 
 his parental claims are more visionary than the profits 
 of the South Sea Company. It would be a positive 
 vulgarity for the lazzaroni to recognize his offspring. 
 He gives the brat an existence, and casts him into the 
 market place, as though he were hurling a planet into 
 its orbit. Instinct and climate do the rest. The infant 
 lazzaroni expands into a red cap and a piece of blanket; 
 he then makes his entree into society, and becomes a 
 frequenter of the Mole. When the lazzaroni wears 
 out — for he never dies — they drop him into the Campo 
 Santo, wardrobe and all, without the formality of a 
 funeral service, the sound of a dirge, or the discord 
 of a will. Ilis wordly goods and chattels are hardly 
 sufficient to induce the squabbling of greedy heirs. 
 Thus lives and thus departs the lazzaroni. But 
 Diogenes, in faith, was a fool to those fellows. He 
 was one of your ancient lazzaroni, who lived in indo- 
 lence and dirt, and yet the world dubbeth him Phi- 
 losopher par excellence ; while a thousand of his 
 confreres doze unnoticed along yon sunny market- 
 place. The one lived in a tub, the other dwells in a 
 basket. But the one is called a noble stoic, the other 
 a shameless vagrant. The police don't allow men to 
 live in tubs now-a-days. It would seem like evading 
 the house-tax. And if any eccentric character, in imi- 
 tation of the Grecian philosopher, should be caught 
 running about in the day-time with a lantern in his 
 hand, he would, possibly, be indicted for a burglarious 
 intent to commit arson. The oddities of ancient
 
 256 Memories over the "Water. 
 
 philosophy would hardly be tolerated at the ]»reseiit 
 da}^ though any one might liave the same inclination 
 and equal reason. The fellow with the lantern, instead 
 of finding the object sought, would most likely be 
 introduced to the janitor of a Lunatic Asylum — Sic 
 tempora mutant, et mores. 
 
 "While in Naples we went to see the tomb of Virgil, 
 and found the resting-place ascribed to the old Latin 
 poet, situated in a wild, romantic spot, just above the 
 mouth of the Grotto Posilipo. The tomb is now noth- 
 ing more than an old stone apartment, about six feet 
 square, cold and bare, containing only a white marble 
 slab, apparently of recent manufacture, but bearing 
 this inscription : 
 
 Mantua me genuit, Calabres rapiiere, 
 
 Tenet nunc Parthcnope, cecini pascua, ruva duces. 
 
 The roof of the tomb is overgrown with matted 
 grass, and weeds tangled with rose-bushes. In 
 memory of the old author, the friend and companion 
 of our school-boy days, we gathered a leaf from off 
 the sod, that grew lonely and neglected above his 
 head. 
 
 "We also made the tour of the Museum, where wo 
 saw the Farnese Hercules and the Farnese Bull ; two 
 of the most celebrated specimens of ancient sculpture. 
 Hercules is leaning, in an attitude of repose, against 
 a stone, over which is thrown the hide of the Nemean 
 lion, while the club of the hero is resting at his side. 
 The left-hand he holds behind hiin, M'hich contains 
 the three golden apples, stok'n fnuii the gardens of the
 
 Memories over the Water. 257 
 
 Hesperides. On tlic base of the statue we fonnd, in 
 Greek letters, the inscription: {(Jlukoii Athanalos 
 Eporel.) Tlie Farnese Bull is a beautiful <^TOup in niai - 
 ble, said to have been sculptured from a sini^le block. 
 It is a very complicated piece of workmanship ; repre- 
 senting two men binding Dircc to the horns of an infu- 
 riated bull, while a dog stands by, barking np into the 
 face of the captive animal. This group is the reputed 
 work of the two Grecian brothers — ApoUonius and 
 Theoriscus. While in this hall we fell in love with 
 the statue of a water girl ; a creature of the most 
 exquisite form and face. She is just stepping into the 
 edge of the water, and seems smiling at the reflection 
 of her own beauty in the crystal wave. 
 
 Among other objects of interest in the Museum we 
 saw several antique frescoes, found in the excavation 
 of Pompeii, and the glassware used by its inhab- 
 itants ; a cameo, said to be the finest in the world, 
 and found in the tomb of the Emperor Hadrian ; it is 
 supposed to have been used by him as a drinking cup ; 
 a petrified loaf of bread, with the name of the baker 
 stamped thereon, said to have been taken from the 
 shop of a bread-vender in Pompeii ; a complete 
 assortment of medical and dental instruments; the 
 various articles of a lady's toilet — rouge not excepted; 
 lamps, bathing-tubs, drinking cups, inkstands, cook- 
 ing-stoves, stocks for criminals, vases, locks, keys, 
 scales, weights, stamps, and Greek and Roman 
 armor, all dug uj) from the ruins of " the city of the
 
 25S Memokies oyer the Water. 
 
 dead." We even saw the skull of the Roman sentinel, 
 encased in his helmet, who stood and perished at his 
 post, at the gate of the citj, when Pompeii was over- 
 whelmed ; a striking instance of the extent to which 
 discipline in the Roman soldier was carried. We 
 saw, too, the fierce dog in mosaic, with the inscrip- 
 tion at his feet, "Cave Canem," that covered the 
 floor of the Vestibuhwi, in the House of Glaucus, as 
 described by Bulwer in his "Last Days of Pompeii." 
 Also, the splendid mosaic, representing the battle 
 between Darius and Alexander, taken from the House 
 of Diomede. 
 
 Along the Strada Toledo — the Broadway of Naples — 
 the stranger finds much to amuse, but more to annoy 
 him. Among some of the " tableaux vivants " he will 
 see many old men and women, sitting behind their 
 stalls, with piles of copper coin upon their coun- 
 ters. These are the " Gambia Monete," or money 
 changers for the rabble route. The profits of this 
 brokerage must be most beggarly, and yet there they 
 sit with all the dignity and importance of a Wall 
 street merchant. We wonder if they are quoted on 
 change ! Then there are the cabmen — a difierent 
 class of men — who hiss and crack their whips, and 
 cry " Signer " at you as you pass ; and if you will 
 not deign them a notice they will sometimes drive 
 their shabby vehicles along by your side, keeping 
 pace with you for some hundred yards, and not unfre- 
 quently check their cabs directly across your path, to
 
 Memories oveu the Wateu. 259 
 
 impede your progi'ess, and, if possible, to compel you 
 to get in and ride ; for which kindness you feel a 
 strong inclination to knock the rascals from their 
 boxes, from which, however, you are deterred by the 
 reflection that you arc thereby waging war with 
 notliincr to <2;ain aud all to lose.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 On the evening of the 26th of November we made 
 an early rise, and finding the heavens free of clouds 
 we prepared to visit the ruins of Pompeii. TVe had a 
 rank republican for our guide, who informed us that 
 the king spent the greater part of his time at his 
 palace in the country, and seldom came to Naples for 
 fear of being assassinated. Indeed wherever and when- 
 ever in Italy we were enabled to converse with the 
 populace, we found a republican, or at least a revo- 
 lutionary spirit running riot through their thoughts. 
 But at nine o'clock, a, m., we were on the move from 
 the railway station, and winding along the shore of 
 the bay, now looking out upon its joyous waters, 
 and now darting through immense quarries of lava, 
 we passed by Portici, Resini, Torre del Greco, Torre 
 del Annunciata, and moving partly around the base 
 of Vesuvius we were deposited at the Pompeii station. 
 Along the route we observed cotton growing, but the 
 stalks were small, the bolls dirty and undeveloped, 
 and the quality of the cotton, of course, indiflerent. 
 At Hotel Dioraede one of the guides, in government 
 uniform, took us in charge, and ascending a slight 
 
 rise of ground we stood amid the rnins of Pompeii. 
 (2G0 )
 
 J\I KMOKIKt) ONKli TIIIO WaTKK. 2f)l 
 
 You do not descend into the i^ronnd, as we liad been 
 led to suppose, to enter this fated city ; the entire 
 superstratum of lava, ashes and soil, has all been 
 removed, and the naked walls of the city lie before 
 you, but robbed of their chief beauty and valuables. 
 "We entered "the city of the dead" on part of the 
 old Appian Way, in whose stone pavements you may 
 still trace the mark of wheels. The streets of Pompeii 
 arc very narrow, the houses very small and generally 
 of one story only — but were most elegantly and luxu- 
 riously furnished. They arc not so high nor spacious 
 as the buildinois of modern times. Their construction 
 was curious, but most convenient. You enter by the 
 vestihulum into the airiian^ round which are ranged 
 the cuhicula. In the center of the atrium is the 
 irrfpluvhim^ a receptacle for the water in time of 
 rain, as the atrium is unprotected by any roof. In the 
 rear of the atrium is the peristylum. All of these 
 apartments arc on a small scale, and to judge from 
 the size of their dining-rooms one would conclude 
 that the citizens of Pompeii esteemed it eminently 
 ungenteel to give large entertainments. 
 
 The work of excavation is still going on at Pompeii. 
 According to the map, much of the city still remains 
 under-ground, though it is probable the best portion 
 has been disentombed. Mosaics, frescoes, sculp- 
 tures — all that bespeaks the perfection of art and 
 civilization may here be found, and forming an over- 
 whelming evidence of the luxury, genius and refine- 
 ment of these people. Not only this, but such proof
 
 262 JMemories over the Water. 
 
 of their abandoned and licentious morals, such confir- 
 mation of a lascivious and wanton brutality, that one 
 cannot wonder that the judgments of Heaven should 
 have fallen upon their heads, even to their utter ex- 
 tinction as a city. It is both melancholy and humi- 
 liating to wander through the empty rooms, stripped 
 of their ornaments, save here and there some frag- 
 ments of mosaic or some half-obliterated fresco — and 
 to think that all our efibrts are bounded by a bourne 
 long since reached in these unburied walls, and that 
 our boasted march of intellect has had a parallel in 
 the calendar of time. The seal of two thousand years 
 has been removed, and we discover the corpse of a 
 mere provincial town of the Roman Empire, arrayed 
 in more than the laborious splendor of our most ex- 
 alted capitals. In such a place the ghostly phantoms 
 of by-gone grandeur rear their sable images before 
 the explorer of the past, and with an unearthly great- 
 ness haunt the soul. We feel that we are, at least, 
 but imitators, and if all the inventions of past days 
 could be rent from the dark cloud in which they are 
 shrouded, we might blush for the boyishness of our 
 pride. We shall not be surprised if they should one 
 of these days find a telegraph office, or a steam engine 
 with an improvement on the caloric principle, in one 
 of the Roman Yillas. A few of the singular features 
 of Pompeii are the tombs, situated immediately on the 
 jjublic street ; also an assignation house immediately 
 opposite the Temple of the Vestal Yirgins. 
 
 But for a brief outline of our explorations. We
 
 Memories ovku the Wati;r. 2t>3 
 
 went first to the House of Diomede, and descended 
 into the wine cellars of the wealthy roue. These 
 vaults consist of a long under-ground hall, running 
 along the outer foundations of the building, forming 
 three sides of a parallelogram. We saw there many 
 of the old wine-jars, their contents, singular to relate, 
 having been displaced and supplanted by the pene- 
 tratincr ashes. The floors of this house were laid with 
 mosaic. After exploring the dining-room, the fish- 
 pond, and the wine-cooler, we proceeded up the Rue 
 des Tombeaux — so called from the tombs and monu- 
 ments erected on either side — and entered the city 
 proper. Attached to one of these tombs, we saw the 
 furnace used for burning the bodies of the dead. On 
 the right-hand, as you enter the city, not far from the 
 gate, there are circular scats of marble, where the 
 priests were wont to sit and converse on an afternoon. 
 Around this circle we observed the following in- 
 scription : 
 
 MaximcB, P. F. Sacerdoti PubliccB Locus. Sepul- 
 iur Datus Decurionum Decreto. 
 
 "We entered the city by the Porte cV Jlerculaninn., 
 and saw the spot, where the faithful Eoman soldier 
 stood, and perished at his post. His skull, skeleton 
 and helmet were found, and placed in the Museum. 
 A good portion of the ancient walls of Pompeii still 
 exist. We saw in one dilapidated house, the family 
 altar, where the household made their private sacri- 
 fice. On each of its four sides were appropriate 
 frescoes. In the court-vards we found fountains,
 
 264 Memories over the AVater. 
 
 beautifully decorated with shells and mosaic. On the 
 floor of the vestihulum you may still trace the word — 
 Salve — a beautiful custom, we thought, and indicative 
 of the hospitable disposition of the Pompeian people. 
 We saw restaurants, and baker-shops, with stoves for 
 baking the bread and stones for grinding the grain, 
 not very dissimilar from those of the present day. We 
 entered the House of Sallust, containing several an- 
 tique frescoes, among them the bathing scene of 
 Diana and Actseon, the Eape of Europa, Mars and 
 "Venus, and other such -like representations. We saw 
 the house of Pansa, the sedile, with its Corinthian 
 columns and capitals in i\\Q peristyhim. We saw the 
 house of the tragic Poet, with its obscene frescoes, 
 and drank a glass of wine in the Public Bath-IIouse, 
 whose arrangements of luxury and beauty far surpassed 
 any of the present day. We visited the Temple of 
 Fortune, situated at the corner of the street of Fortune 
 and the street of Mercury. We entered the house of 
 the Fountain, and the house of the Fawn, as also 
 several shops for the sale of oil. We looked in at the 
 House of the Musician, the last one exhumed at that 
 time, with many pieces of statuary left, by request of 
 the King, in the same position as when found. We 
 saw the Temple of Isis, and stood in the room in 
 which the six skeletons were discovered. Here we 
 met a hideous remnant of humanity — a decrepid old 
 man — a living emblem of the city about us — the 
 hermit of the ruins — who on our approach began to 
 blow most lustily on his pipes, at the same time
 
 Mkmories over tiik Water. 205 
 
 raakinf^ several lame cflbrts at a shiiftling dance. 
 Ills rcjward was a few coppers, thoui^h as for his 
 music we had rather paid him to be quiet. We saw 
 the Theater for Trairedy, the Barracks, and the 
 Theater for Comedy. On the floor of the last men- 
 tioned there is a fine bronze inscription which reads 
 thus — M. Olconius, M. F. Verus. II. Vir _pro 
 Liidis. 
 
 We now went out beyond the city walls and visited 
 the Amphitheater. The walls of tlie arena are 
 rimmed with white marble slabs, and tlio buildino; 
 generally is in a fine state of preservation. The 
 transverse axis is four hundred feet in length and the 
 ordinate three hundred and fifteen. This visit con- 
 cluded, we returned to the railway station, to be in 
 readiness for the down-train at half-past three o'clock, 
 p. M. Here we met several of the upper-ten lazza- 
 roni, who, with their guitars, their songs and dances, 
 beguiled our leisure time. We reached Naples again 
 in due time, well pleased with our trip to Pompeii. 
 While in Naples, we on one occasion met the Queen, 
 on the Strada Chiaja. She was riding in rather a 
 plain carriage, drawn by a single pair of fine bay 
 horses, and preceded by a single outrider. Her 
 Majesty has not a very prepossessing person. 
 
 On the mornins: of the 2Sth of November we made 
 an excursion out to Baia3, down the Strada Chiaja, 
 past the Villa Rcale and the Tomb of Virgil, and 
 through the long, high-roofed and lamp-lighted Grotto 
 Posilipo. The first thing on the day's programme
 
 266 Memories over the Water. 
 
 was the Lago d'Agnano, a small body of water occn- 
 pying the crater of an exhausted volcano. Here we 
 found the famous Sulphur Baths, where you are 
 steamed by the warm vapor that rises from out the 
 soil. Next we proceeded, under the direction of a 
 long-legged, slab-sided, cone-headed guide, to a cer- 
 tain part of the lake, where hot water bubbles up in 
 the midst of cold. Thence to the Grotto del Cane, 
 from which arises a deadly gas. A torch, on being 
 placed near the ground, was immediately extin- 
 guished. An old woman had a little dog in readiness 
 to show its effect upon an animate creature. The 
 nose of the poor canine was thrust within reach of 
 the noxious atmosphere, when he soon began to 
 scuffle and make desperate efforts to escape. But his 
 tormentor held him firmly, until his struggles began 
 to relax. His energies seemed exhausted, and with 
 tongue lolling from his mouth, and eyes rolling as if 
 in the agonies of death, he grew perfectly still. He 
 was now taken out and laid upon the ground ; when 
 in a few moments he recovered, and went frisking 
 about as gayly as ever. We went next to the crater 
 of another exhausted volcano, which on being struck 
 with a pole gave forth a hollow, rumbling sound, as 
 if there were only a thin shell, upon which we stood, 
 and beneath an immense gulf in the earth. Here 
 we saw them manufacturing alum ; the furnace was 
 simply the old Volcano, in whose crater we were 
 standing, the heat from below being amply sufficient
 
 Memories over the Water, 267 
 
 for tliG boiling of water. At one extremity of the 
 crater we found a small cavern, through which the 
 steam was roaring and hissing at a terrible rate. Its 
 appearance was anything but pleasant, and we could 
 almost imagine it the mouth of hell. We felt a 
 ])leasant relief when wo got safely out from the 
 crater. 
 
 We next successively visited the Amphitheater, the 
 Temple of Jupiter Serapis, the Temple of Diana, the 
 Temple of Mercury, and the Temple of Venus — all 
 of which are now a medley of ruins. Then we saw 
 the Lake of Avernus, an insignificant body of water, 
 lying hard by the coast of the bay. Then saw Baia3, 
 a succession of moldering walls and arches. Then 
 the Lago del Fusara, the Mare Morto, and the famous 
 Elysian Fields. From this point we returned to 
 Naples, winding along the Bay of Eaioe, which we 
 thought equal, in point of beauty, to the Bay of 
 Naples, We passed by the Baths of Nero, the Lago 
 Lucrino, and through the village of Pozzuoli. Again 
 we entered the Grotto Posilipo, and soon after reached 
 our hotel, with the conviction that the entire region of 
 country round about Naples was of a most wonderful 
 and extraordinary nature. The stranger, as he looks 
 upon its many volcanoes — some exhausted, but many 
 still in motion — almost fears to trust himself lono^ in 
 that country. On one side is the old monster Vesu- 
 vius, and on the other an uninterrupted succession of 
 what were once volcanoes, and from whose white
 
 2G8 Memories over the Water. 
 
 craters the smoke and steam still hiss. It would not 
 be unreasonable to suppose that, some day or other 
 the entire country will collapse, when a general blow- 
 ing up and caving in shall change the whole aspect of 
 that region. 
 
 On reaching our hotel we were delighted to meet 
 our old traveling companion, Brevard, of North 
 Carolina, and Col. W. P. Bryan, of Nashville.
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 On the calendar of our days we "mark with a 
 white stone" the 27th of November, 1851, for on that 
 day we stood upon the summit of Mount Vesuvius. 
 The weather was favorable, and about nine o'clock in 
 the morning we set out from the hotel door. Our 
 party numbered thirteen persons, eleven gentlemen 
 and two ladies, and filled up two large traveling 
 coaches. Thus mounted we rattled away from the 
 Hotel des Etrangers, wound around the Strada 
 Gigante, passed by the Royal Palace, and struck out 
 into the broad and well-paved road, running along 
 the eastern shore of the bay. At the village of 
 Eecini we all got out, and descended into the ancient 
 city of Herculaneum, by means of steps hewn out of 
 the solid bed of lava. Eecini is built immediately 
 over the ancient site of Herculaneum, and owing to 
 this fact very little excavation has been made. We 
 descended to a considerable depth into this voiceless 
 city of the dead, and, under the pilotage of guides 
 with torches, rambled through the coiTidors of an 
 ancient theater, a large and handsome building, 
 whose arrangement is not niuch dissimilar from the 
 
 ( 2Gi) )
 
 270 Memories over the AVateb, 
 
 theaters of the present day. This is ahoiit all that 
 the traveler sees of Ilerculaneum. 
 
 Ascending again to the light of day we made pre- 
 paration for the ascent of Vesuvius. A majority of 
 the gentlemen determined on walking from the vil- 
 lage up to the summit of the mountain, a distance of 
 several miles, and not to he outdone, we agreed to 
 keep them company. On leaving Eecini we were 
 beset with a crowd of lazzaroni, who, with bundles of 
 walking-canes in their hands, endeavored to torment 
 us into a purchase. We had to beat one importunate 
 scamp over the head with our overcoat, before -"we 
 could get shed of him. But no sooner had we passed 
 the outer limits of the village than a new persecution 
 succeeded. This latter was a squad of lazzaroni, 
 mounted on horses, who came capering and prancing 
 about us, pronouncing all manner of encomiums on 
 their steeds, and assuring us M^e would find the road 
 very rough and fatiguing. This was of course done 
 to induce us to hire a horse ; but we had determined 
 on walking, and so pressed on without heeding their 
 solicitations. The entire troop now fell behind, and 
 were soon lost to sight. We concluded they had 
 given over their hopes of making any profit out of our 
 party, and had returned to the village. But in this 
 we were much mistaken. It was only a ruse du 
 guen^e on the part of the adversary ; for suddenly we 
 heard a great clattering of feet over the rocky road, 
 and looking back we saw the same band of equestrians 
 come racing on with whip and spur, whoo])ing and
 
 Memories oveii the Watee. 271 
 
 squalling like so many mad devils just broke loose 
 from the caverns of Hades. On they dashed ; but on 
 reachini^ the rear-guard of our party they reined in 
 their horses, and again renewed their invitations for 
 a ride. 
 
 This sport was too much for our weakness to with- 
 stand, and so bidding our comrades adieu, we took 
 the pick of the crowd, paid the rider the price of a 
 day's hire, and springing to the back of our mountain 
 pony, we mingled in the crowd of lazzaroni, and lent 
 our voice to the general cry of our Neapolitan com- 
 rades. Our gallant little steed bore us bravely for- 
 ward ; was fleet of limb, and strikingly like "Bullit," 
 whom we had so often backed in the camp-hunts of 
 Arkansas. Sagacious, sure-footed, and spirited ; 
 spiteful too, he was, and would throw his heels with 
 a perfect looseness on being provoked. A short ride 
 now brought us to the Hermitage, where, in our anx- 
 iety to press on, we left the remainder of our party, 
 and with Clay, of New York, dashed on for the foot 
 of tlie Cone, passing, in our route, the Observatory — 
 a very neat and handsome building, and so situated 
 on the back-bone of a high ridge as to be out of the 
 reach of the lava in times of eruption, "We now 
 entered on that bleak and dreary field, that sweeps 
 down from the brow of Vesuvius to the plains below ; 
 a scene of utter desolation. On its dark and dismal 
 surface blooms no flower, grows no blade of grass. 
 All is one mass of curled and crisped lava, as it 
 rolled its blood-red tide from the mouth of Nature's
 
 272 Memories ovek the Watek. 
 
 great furnace, and cooling, clothed the mountain in 
 a mantle of hideous gloom; bare and barren, and 
 black as the hills of Tartarus. It is the violence of 
 JSTature in her most infernal form; whole miles of 
 rough, up-turned lava, lying like huge masses of iron 
 ore in wild disorder. Nothing could leave a more 
 fearful memorial of the wrath of Vesuvius. War has 
 its wreck, but also its returning bloom ; decay its 
 herbage; the desert waste its palm and shrub; but 
 here all is one dark, lifeless, joyless, mis-shapen 
 region. But despite the dreary aspect a buoyant 
 feeling was dancing in our heart, the spirit of excite- 
 ment ran high in our veins, and we challenged our 
 comrade to a race. No sooner offered than accepted, 
 and away we sprang, with a hoop and wild halloo, 
 along the flinty pathway, making the cavernous 
 mountain-side echo with our memment. Beside, a 
 couple of lazzaroni had accompanied us on foot, hold- 
 ing by the tails of our horses ; and no sooner did they 
 see the premonitions of the race than, griping with 
 a vice-like grasp their several tails, they held on 
 like grim death, though we spurred on at the top of 
 our speed. It was forsooth an odd and laughable 
 sight — two horsemen going with whip and spur at a 
 furious rate, over a rough and broken pathway, with 
 a lazzaroni clinging to the tail of each horse, his long 
 red cap dancing gayly in the breeze. It was a scene 
 for the Lady Gay Spanker to portray. On reaching 
 the foot of the Cone, we dismounted and commenced 
 climbing toward tlie top of the Crater, leaving our
 
 Memokies oveu the Water. 273 
 
 horses in charge of a man below. Here again we 
 were set upon by the lazzaroni, who would insist on 
 helping us up. Tliey ke])t close in our rear, and on 
 the first indication of fatigue would renew the ofier 
 of their assistance. But no, we obstinately met ob- 
 stinacy ; and every now and then, as we paused for a 
 breathing spell, we would lecture our persevering 
 audience on their indelicate breach of good manners ; 
 all of which, as they understood not a word that was 
 said, they received with stupid respect. But Clay, at 
 last, became weary and impatient, and accepted the 
 assistance so eagerly profiered. One pulled him up 
 in front, another pushed him up from behind ; and no 
 sooner did they reach the top than they all made an 
 enormous demand upon his purse. This was as we 
 expected. With this hope they had perse veringly 
 trotted the whole distance, and now, with some show 
 of justice, they came down like locusts upon poor 
 Clay. There was no refusing, and so he had to 
 "shell out." Let but an Italian hold your coat for an 
 instant, or touch your bridle-rein, and there is no 
 getting rid of him without a heavy forfeit. 
 
 The ascent of the Cone is exceedingly steep, and 
 very laborious, owing to the rough and uncertain foot- 
 ing. Every few moments we would pause to enjoy 
 the view, which grew wilder and grander as we 
 ascended. Naples and its famous ba}' — the islands of 
 Capri and Ischia — the blue waves of the Mediterra- 
 nean, and the wide-spreading plains, the hazy moun- 
 
 23
 
 274 Memories over the AVater. 
 
 tains and yellow valleys, were all spread out in one 
 glorious panorama ; while just above our heads rolled 
 the sulphurous smoke from the mouth of the volcano, 
 curling lazily away like some torpid serpent. On 
 reaching the summit we drew on our overcoat, for the 
 wind was now blowing high and chill. Without ven- 
 turing any further we here awaited our friends below 
 with the guide. They all soon made their appear- 
 ance, some borne on the shoulders of the lazzaroni in 
 a port-a-chaise^ some assisted up as Clay was, and 
 some independently as we ascended. At last we all 
 stood upon the summit, and now placing ourselves 
 under the direction of the guide, we proceeded over 
 what seemed the bed of an exhausted crater, and 
 next, scrambling through a dense cloud of sulphur- 
 ous smoke, we stood upon the lip of the principal 
 crater. The steam and smoke came boiling up from 
 the abyss at our feet, and utterly prevented our look- 
 ing down. The sulphur was so strong as almost to 
 suffocate us, and we would frequently have to retreat 
 a few steps to recover breath. We were told though, 
 that this smoke was not only innoxious, but in fact 
 beneficial to the lungs, and so we stood it out like 
 martyrs. 
 
 An old, gray-headed veteran, who had followed 
 us from the foot of the Cone, now produced a bas- 
 ket of refreshments, which, though not suited to the 
 most fastidious palate, yet to men in our condition 
 presented a most inviting display. Among other
 
 Memouies ovek the Wateu. 275 
 
 items were several bottles of M'ine, whose contents 
 most magically disappeared. 
 
 But just here, as we stood on the very verge of the 
 crater, the dense clouds of smoke spouting up from 
 the great caldron below, and wreathing themselves 
 in fantastic shapes about our head, a thought of home 
 and its bright-eyed beauties flashed over our mind. 
 The blue-eyes of Nashville were before us, and as in 
 imagination we traced their fairy forms in the sportive 
 eddies of the M'hirling smoke, we raised a brimming 
 bumper of tlie Lacryma Christi to our lips, and 
 pledged all health and happiness "to the girl we left 
 behind us." Anon a puff of wind would clear away 
 the clouds of vapor that issued from the slumbering 
 fires below, and revealed to our sight the forms of our 
 companions, dimly seen through the cloudy vail, and 
 moving like the misty spirits of the unknown land 
 about the yawning mouth of that fearful pit, where 
 " the worm dieth not and the fire is not quenched." 
 It was a capital idea of the ancients to suppose the 
 existence of some Titanic form under this superin- 
 cumbent mass, struggling to release itself, and with 
 each effort belching forth his thick, hot breath. It is 
 a miniature representation of the infernal regions, and 
 likely to awaken serious reflections upon the locality 
 and character of that much -disputed place. 
 
 "We remained on the top of the mountain about two 
 hours, and then made our descent from the other side, 
 through the deep cinders into which you sink anklo
 
 270 Memories over the Water. 
 
 deep at every step. It is very steep, and if the doc- 
 trine of specific gravity, as connected with equi- 
 librium, be forgotten, one might lose his balance and 
 shame the speed of steam ere he reached the bottom. 
 But we all reached our hotel at Naples that evening, 
 without a serious accident, well pleased with the day's 
 adventures. For the novelty, the excitement and the 
 dangers of this excursion, the ascent of Vesuvius far 
 surpasses the generality of incidents in a European 
 tour.
 
 CHAPTER XLI 
 
 At Naples we parted with our traveling companions, 
 Ewing, Johnstone, McGavock, Price, and our knight 
 of the razor, Frank Parrish ; they to bend their pilgrim 
 steps toward the Holy Land, and we to winter in the 
 gay capital of France. Brevard was to sail in a few 
 days for Greece, Col. Kimmel had resolved to look upon 
 the dark-eyed senoritas of Spain, while Bogan wished 
 to linger longer by the Bay of Naples. And thus 
 was our pleasant party dispersed in devious routes. 
 
 At four o'clock, p. m., Fogg and ourself bade adieu 
 to onr friends, and taking a cab from the door of our 
 hotel, we started for the steamer that was to bear us 
 along the western shore of Italy to the city of Mar- 
 seilles, on the coast of Southern France. On reaching 
 the Molo we discharged our cabman, and were about 
 having the baggage placed in the skifl", in waiting to 
 receive it, when a fellow in uniform rushed up, and 
 intimated that it was his peculiar province and privi- 
 lege to inspect all baggage before its going aboard. 
 We had been too much accustomed to such demands 
 to demur, and so forthwith whipped out our keys, 
 and were about to unlock, when a gentle, quiet 
 nudge in the side from the elbow of the official caused 
 
 ( 277 )
 
 278 Memories o\t<;r the "Water. 
 
 us to inquire, by our look of astonisbmGnt, "What 
 the devil he meant." Not receiving any verbal reply, 
 we did not yet take^ and again proceeded to unlock, 
 when a second gentle, quiet tap, and a significant 
 twinkle in the eye of the ossifer at once revealed the 
 mystery of his conduct. "Without more ado we drop- 
 ped some silver coin into his inviting palm, and 
 followed our unopened baggage to the skiff. He 
 waved us an affectionate adieu — a graceful hon voy- 
 age^ and we thought on the farce of government, the 
 vanity of trust, the power of gold. In a few moments 
 we reached the vessel's side, and paying off our jolly 
 watermen, we sprung up the water-ladders and stood 
 upon the deck, "cribbed, cabined, and confined" 
 aboard the steamer Capri, bound for the port of Civita 
 Vecchia. 
 
 It was about the set of sun when our little vessel 
 slipped her cables, and sped rapidly out into the bay, 
 passing by an American man-of-war, that was rock- 
 ing lazily to the swell, as she lay anchored out in 
 the harbor, her black-mouthed guns gaping on the 
 city-walls, and the stars and stripes dancing in the 
 evening breeze. A sight of that flag in a foreign 
 land brings a tear of pride and joy to the eye of tlie 
 wandering American, and the heart, with full voice, 
 shouts — God bless the banner of the free! "We 
 lino-ered on the deck to take our farewell view of 
 Naples and her glorious bay ; of old Yesuvius and the 
 bold, bare island of Capri ; of St. Elmo and Castel-a-e- 
 mare; all bathed in a flood of golden sun-light —
 
 Memories ovku the Water. 270 
 
 blusliins: under tiic soft warm kiss of the settinoj sun. 
 As nii^ht came on we rounded Cape Miseum, and 
 stood out in open ocean. But now the dinner 
 bell — "that tocsin of the soul" — sent its summons 
 through the cabin. The ground-swell was heavy 
 and few had the heart to look dinner in the face. 
 
 But F and ourself had fasted since breakfast, 
 
 and 60 repaired, with the courage of Caesar, to the 
 attack. We sat down with the air of one who had 
 seen salt water before, and dashed right gallantly 
 into the smoking viands. A few moments rolled 
 silently by, when on looking up we thought a shade 
 of deepest melancholy seemed to flit for an instant 
 over the face of our friend. He laid gently down his 
 knife and fork, and paused, as if the soft memory of 
 some fond hour were brooding on his heart. The 
 spell passes away. Again he resumes the weapons 
 of destruction, and falls fearfully to work. But the 
 phantom dream has come again. Ilis soul seems to 
 heave like the billows below. The shadow of some 
 deep sorrow steals over the now anxious face. Pain 
 and grief speak in his mournful eyes. A naiTOw 
 twitching of the mouth tells of the struggle that is 
 going on. But see ! his emotions overcome him. 
 lie rises from his seat and rushes from the cabin — 
 Neptune's spasmodic victim. 
 
 There is a romance about the ocean, but it shows bet- 
 ter from the shore to many poetically disposed and — 
 biliously inclined. It requires only one sea-emetic to 
 dush the beauty and poetry of ocean info dream-land.
 
 2S0 Memoeies over the "Water. 
 
 In the eyes of a ship-steward few men are heroes. 
 The ocean, like death, is a great leveler. It takes the 
 starch out of human dignity, and is an excellent 
 moralist on the vanity of pride. Napoleon Bonaparte 
 could not stand the sea, and the rebellious Ilonian 
 had not yet embarked when he talked so proudly of 
 "Caesar and his fortunes." Byron was in the habit, 
 it is said, of " playing familiar with ocean's hoary 
 locks," while the old fellow, doubtless, reciprocated 
 the compliment by playing familiar with the poet's 
 stomach. Csesar, we venture to say, has, like any 
 other saltwater victim, felt an intense inclination to 
 turn himself inside out like you would a turkey's 
 gizzard ; and Bonaparte gazed for hours at vacuity 
 with that defiant air, something like the look a negro 
 would throw out in giving Hamlet's soliloquy. But 
 shades of the departed forgive us ! 
 
 Would you see then the photographic picture of the 
 modern victim ? Mark that young man coiled up in 
 the corner of yonder lounge, like a torpid constrictor 
 basking in the sun. One would suppose from the 
 desperate energy with which he has fastened on his 
 hat that he never intended to take it off in this world. 
 He is in the last stage of a temporary relaxation — in 
 the negative enjoyment of bilious repose. He is at 
 this moment comparatively happy, and fondly im- 
 agines the last link that bound him to his breakfast 
 is broken. But were you barbarian enough to whis- 
 per " gravy !" in his ear, the evil spirits would gather, 
 and you would see him looking steadfastly down into
 
 Memories over the Water, 281 
 
 the ocean like a searcher after truth. ]3ut alas! what 
 to him is the "deeply, darkly, beautil'ully blue!" 
 What the pule stars and the unwritten poetry of the 
 Ideal ! — The music of the mermaid or the love-incitini;: 
 breath of the pure heaven! Kothiug! The things 
 of yesterday and to-day are before his e3'es — rdics of 
 joy — fleeting and painful! It is the highest bur- 
 lesque of pathos — indeed in the whole history of broken 
 hearts there is nothing so touching as the languid 
 "go away now" of a sea-sick damsel. It is most 
 pathetic — most distressing — and perhaps the only 
 time when one willingly obej's the " go away " of a 
 pretty mouth. 
 
 On rising the morning after our departure from 
 Naples we went out on deck and found the bright 
 sun breaking beautifully over the blue waves of this 
 classic ocean. The sea was calm and still, and on 
 looking toward the land we discovered we were ap- 
 proaching the harbor of Civita Vecchia. Soon our 
 little steamer lay snugly anchored ; but as we did not 
 have our passport visaed for this port we were not 
 permitted to go ashore. By the help of " David 
 Copperfield," letter-writing and day-dreaming, we 
 managed to wdiile away the long idle day. About 
 five o'clock, r. m., we again slipped cables, and turn- 
 ing our prow northward, we passed, in the silent 
 hours of midnight, by that famous isle, where France's 
 exiled chieftain for a time was caged. On the morn- 
 ing following we rose just as our steamer was putting 
 in at the port of Leghorn, and fuund it cold and
 
 282 Memories over the Water. 
 
 raininfr. But about eleven o'clock the shower was 
 over, and in company with a goodly number of our 
 fellow-passengers we left the steamer and were soon 
 landed at the wharf. Jumped aboard the cars and 
 paid a flying visit to Pisa. Crossed the Arno in a 
 cab, and visited the Cathedral, the Baptistery, the 
 Campo Santo and the famous Leaning Tower. From 
 the top of the Campanile we had a fine view of the 
 Apennines. Pisa is a small but handsome city, silent 
 and noiseless as the desert, while Leghorn is a busy, 
 populous, thriving sea-port. We returned in time 
 to get aboard our boat, and at five o'clock w^e weighed 
 anchor and again were on our way northward, still 
 skirting along the western coast of Italy. About one 
 o'clock that night we landed at " Genova la Superba." 
 On rising the next morning we found ourself quietly 
 lying in a most magnificent harbor, around which the 
 city of Columbus stretched its promontories in a pro- 
 tecting embrace. A view of the city from the harbor 
 is picturesque in the extreme. As w^e stepped ashore 
 we could but think how much more readily had we 
 crossed from the far-foreign shores of America — 
 scoured over the continent of Europe — and landed at 
 his native city, than had the discoverer of the New 
 World reached his daring flight, in his frail bark, 
 across the watery waste of the trackless deep. The 
 day was cool, and bracing, and beautifully fair ; the 
 sea as calm as beauty's sleep, and the mountains that 
 rise abruptly up froijf the water's edge seemed the 
 guardians of its slumbers, AVe spent the greater part
 
 Memories over the Water. 283 
 
 of that day in scrambling over the lofty hills, in rear 
 of the city, drinking in the health -giving air, and en- 
 joying many glorious views, over the mountain and 
 over the valley, over the city and over the sea. Still 
 upward would we climb, and following round the 
 long line of frowning forts and cannon-moimtcd walls, 
 the silence broken only by the song of the peasant 
 girl, as she hied from the city to her cottage-home 
 in the opposite valley, or by the lonely tread of the 
 solitary sentinel pacing his hourly round — we de- 
 scended again into the walled town. On our way 
 down we passed by what we thought the house of 
 Columbus, from observing on its walls a fresco repre- 
 senting a mailed figure pointing down at a globe at 
 his feet, whereon were traced the name and continent 
 of America. 
 
 The streets of Genoa are very narrow, and abound 
 in donkeys, fruit and women. The palaces in the 
 Strada Nuova are superb. They seem formed to 
 laugh at time. What a glorious place Genoa must 
 have been in the days of its pride ! when all this 
 silent and decaying splendor had a soul — when tlie 
 princely Dorias ruled over land and sea, and the light 
 of incessant reveliy flashed along these marble walls. 
 But now the remnants of her proud nobility, the in- 
 mates of her lofty palaces, too poor to light their fes- 
 tive fires, are content to sport the relics of their splen- 
 dor in i\\Q foyer of a theater, and like true pliiloso- 
 phers, waltz and laugh as joyously as though their 
 ancestral halls were still the scene of their gayety.
 
 284 Memories over the Water. 
 
 The women are not pretty, but their costume is capti- 
 vating in the extreme. Tliey wear a thin white vail, 
 thrown loosely over tlie head, which falls gracefully 
 back, saucily dancing as they walk. They look veiy 
 picturesque, especially when kneeling in the dim light 
 of the cathedral. The churches give evidence of the 
 former wealth and superstition of Roman Catholi- 
 cism. To the bare walls and Gothic chastity of 
 the North succeed the rich ornament, the luxurious 
 profusion of the South. Spiritual influence stands 
 embodied in all its pomp. Shrines of untold cost — 
 pillars of the rarest stone — walls encased in marble — 
 gilt altars and frescoed ceilings — all attest the enthu- 
 siasm of devotion, the influence of priestly power, 
 and Papal veneration. Step into the Cathedral at 
 what hour you will, some penitent is kneeling — some 
 mass is saying — some vesper pealing. Turn to the 
 other chapels on your route, the same scene presents 
 itself: one crowd of devotees follows another in suc- 
 cessive prayer, and were it not for the wicked glance 
 of some frail worshiper, as she tells her rosary, one 
 would suppose the Italian world thought but of 
 Heaven. Breathed but comprehended not is their 
 fervent orison, and the moral light of the Godhead 
 streams as dimly on their vision as the dying rays 
 of the sun struggling through the stained glass, and 
 falling faintly on the deep fret- work, the faded paint- 
 ings and hidden sculpture of their solemn cathedral. 
 Yet there is a winning beauty, a breathing poesy in 
 the Roman religion that will enchant her votaries for
 
 AI EMORIES OVEIi THE WaTEU. 285 
 
 ages to come. Tliruugli the avenues of the senses 
 she wins her way ; while the Protestant mother leads 
 her children along the rugged paths of reason. But 
 in the realms of intellect, and not of outward sense, 
 should the mind worship its Creator, The spirit of 
 devotion should seek an humble, yet a lofty flight. 
 The human mind must be disabused of the trammels 
 of ignorance and superstition. The infallibility of 
 God alone must be recognized, and that worship, to 
 which presumptuous man has oft aspired, be rendered 
 only to the Iligh Jehovah . Yet it were hardly mor- 
 tal for the heir to the Throne of St. Peter willingly 
 to part with his patrimony. The ambition of the 
 Pontiflf would rather die, like a warrior, sword in 
 hand, than surrender that tiara before which king and 
 emperor have bowed and were subservient ; to sink 
 from his high pinnacle, and forego forever the dazzling 
 hope of former power.
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 We left Genoa on the evening of the 2cl of Decem- 
 ber, and arrived at Marseilles early on the following 
 morning. After getting clear of the clever little 
 steamer " Capri," we went ashore and put np at the 
 "Hotel des Emperenrs." As we passed along the 
 busy streets we observed that some intense excitement 
 was manifest on the faces of the citizens, and on 
 inquiring into the cause, we learned that news had 
 just been received by telegraph, from Paris, an- 
 nouncing that Louis Napoleon, the Prince President, 
 dissenting with the National Assembly, had suddenly 
 turned that body politic neck and heels out of Coun- 
 cil, and had appealed to the people to support him in 
 the proceeding. This was of course productive of a 
 most startling effect throughout the whole of France, 
 and in Marseilles the authorities seemed apprehensive 
 of a general riot. To suppress any such demonstra- 
 tion the entire garrison was called out, and a large 
 detachment of soldiers, horse, foot and artillery, lined 
 the broad and handsome street, on which our hotel 
 was situated. The people seemed highly incensed, 
 and though they dared not, under the frown of fifty 
 
 cannon, openly rebuke this high-handed movement, 
 ( 286 )
 
 Memories over the "Water. 287 
 
 yet tliey marched about thu streets wavinj^ their hats 
 and shouting Vive la Repiiblique! We thought, as 
 we looked from our hotel window upon the frantic 
 crowd, upon the days of the Jacobins and of tlic 
 Marseilles Hymn. 
 
 But we were anxious to reach Paris, which we 
 thought would soon prove the theater of a bloody 
 revolution, and so at half-past three o'clock, r. m., 
 took our seat in the Diligence, and started for tlic 
 railway station. Ilerc the body of the Diligence, 
 passengers, baggage and all, was lifted, by means of 
 machinery arranged for tlic purpose, from off the 
 wheels and deposited on an empty wagon of the train. 
 At four o'clock we were on the move, and about ten 
 o'clock that night reached that old seat of revelry, 
 Avignon, on the Rhone. Here, without a moment's 
 pause, we were again lifted, in a similar manner as 
 before, from off the train, and placed again on wheels, 
 whose motive power was horse-flesh. Our tough 
 coursers are immediately attached, and away we 
 rattle, with a clatter, a jolt and a thump, following 
 up the left bank of the "arro^vy Rhone" toward 
 the city of Lyons. And now our sufferings. All 
 that long, weary night, we traveled on, driving too, 
 like Jehu, the infernal old Diligence keeping up 
 just such a din as would a wagon loaded with 
 long iron bars over a rough road — rattle, rattle, 
 rattle — until we thought our tympanum would give 
 way. Only one incident served to break the weari- 
 some monotonv, and shed some amusement over
 
 288 Memories over the Water. 
 
 the tedious hours. At Yalence we stopped for 
 dinner, and on resuming our seats found that we 
 democrats of the Rotonde had an additional com- 
 panion — a fat, chuffy, bull-headed specimen of a frog- 
 eater — who sat just opposite and facing Mrs. B . 
 
 During the night we were suddenly roused from our 
 dozing by a terrific hubbub in our apartment of the 
 Diligence. On rubbing our eyes and collecting our 
 scattered senses, we saw by the light of the waning 
 
 moon Mr. B cuffing the Frenchman over the head 
 
 with might and main, while Mrs. B made night 
 
 vocal with her screams. It seems the garlic-eating 
 Gaul had, under the cover of darkness, been taking 
 improper liberties with the American lady, and to 
 which she had called the attention of her husband, 
 
 who sat just by her side. Mr. B waited to see 
 
 the movement of the fellow repeated, and thereby 
 assuring himself he could not be mistaken, had, with- 
 out one word of warning, fired away at the French- 
 man's head with all the force of his arm. The blow, 
 coming thus unexpectedly upon the licentious rascal, 
 put a most abrupt termination to his soft dalliance, 
 and so discomfited him that, without the least pre- 
 tension to any hostile demonstration, he only sought 
 to avoid the rapid blows of his assailant, which now 
 came showering about his ears like a hailstorm. 
 The harmony of the scene was beautifully diversified 
 by the protestations of — '•'•Doucement^ Doucement^ 
 Monsieur^'' on the part of the Frenchman; "You 
 d — n villain, d — n villain," with each blow of the
 
 Memories over the Water. 2S9 
 
 rabid American ; and the shrill screams of ^Irs. 
 
 B . But not content with hammering away with 
 
 his fist, the fiery little New Yorker had braced him- 
 self against the side of the Diligence, and calling his 
 heels into seryice, was letting them fly into the 
 Frenchman's "belly with a perfect looseness of limb 
 and desperation of purpose. At last, however, he 
 became satisfied ; while Monsieur, all the time, M^as 
 protesting most lustily at being thus maltreated. It 
 was, forsooth, a scene so confoundedly ridiculous that 
 we laughed until the tears started to our eyes. The 
 next morning the battered champion of gallantry pre- 
 tended to be exceeding drowsy, kept his bruised face 
 concealed under the folds of his cloak, and at the first 
 village made his disappearance, having learned a 
 most practical lesson as to the difierence between an 
 American wife and a French grisettc. 
 
 But again to our route. "With what rapidity French 
 postillions change horses ! A curse, a kick, a crack 
 of the whip, and all is over. One has scarcely time 
 to poise a flask of wine upon the lips before the huge 
 machine is again in motion. It would be rather 
 amusing to see a Diligence break into an American 
 village ! It would create a greater sensation than a 
 menagerie. The postillion's boots would be the first 
 point of attack for the young democracy ; his short- 
 tailed coat the next ; and should he unfortunately be 
 undersized, so as to make the mass of leather about 
 his posterior show to advantage, there is no telling 
 
 what might be the consequence. What a laugh the 
 24^
 
 290 Memories oyer the Water. 
 
 boisterous stage-driver would raise, as lie criticised 
 the dimensions, the singular internal arrangement, 
 and the terrible weight of the mammoth vehicle, pro- 
 phesying death to any team that might be hitched to 
 that car of Juggernaut ! What a contemptuous sneer 
 would our four-in-hand Jehues indulge in, as they 
 looked upon the postillions mounted on the backs 
 of the team ! Some Brummel of a saddler might 
 pronounce an emphatic "d — n," as he looked upon 
 the gear, and ironically inquire — "Say, Johnson, 
 where did you get your harness ? " 
 
 At any rate we found our lumbering old machine a 
 perfect purgatory. Fatigue gives way to impatience, 
 impatience to desperation, and desperation to illness. 
 Between the cold air and the infernal racket we were 
 now chilled into teeth-chattering, and now burning 
 with fever. Thursday, December 4th, 1851, "we 
 mark with a hlach stone" on the calendar of our 
 days. All that day we went jolting on. Not even 
 the smile of a bright eye at the village inn, nor a 
 tempting dejeuner a la fourchette could appease us. 
 At last about ten o'clock on the succeeding night we 
 reached the city of Lyons, and as we stepped out of 
 tlie miserable old Diligence, which for some thirty-six 
 consecutive hours had been a rack of torture to our 
 feverish frame, we mentally vowed that not a forty 
 horse-power could ever force us into another, if there 
 was one earthly chance of traveling by any other 
 conveyance. But getting into a cab we drove to 
 " Hotel du Nord," and having ordered a fire in our
 
 Memories over the Water. 291 
 
 room went straii^htway to bed. The next morning 
 we felt badly enough. Got up though, drank a cup 
 of tea, and went immediately to bed again. Suffice 
 it to say, that for three days we were confined in our 
 room with a raging fever. Mr. and Mrs. Brady were 
 to have gone immediately on to Paris. But on seeing 
 our condition Mrs. Brady, with woman's true instinct, 
 informed lier husband that he must remain over a few 
 days; to which he kindly consenting, she set dili- 
 gently to work to break our fever. Without suffering 
 us to send for a physician, she hovered like some 
 ministering angel about our pillow, supplying our 
 wants with the care and tenderness of a sister. 
 Without one claim upon her consideration, saving the 
 fact of our being sick and a stranger in the land, she 
 was to us the good Samaritan. The reflection that a 
 countryman of her own — between whom and his 
 home lay many a weary mile, rolled many a restless 
 billow — was ill, was of itself sufficient to enlist her 
 warmest sympathies. But her heart M-as most gentle, 
 most kindly in its nature. We have known her on 
 ship-board, when some rebellious sailor had trans- 
 gressed the commands of his officer, and, as a penalty 
 for tlie ofi'ense, lay in his cold quarters in irons, and 
 without food, to seek the rough officer, and implore 
 for her sake his release. When the grateful memory 
 of her kindness to us shall fade, may we have no 
 gentle hand about our pillow to charm the weary 
 hours of illness into halcyon moments. Enough to 
 say, that under tlie caro of an owrrnling Providencj,
 
 292 Memoeies over the Watkk. 
 
 and with the kind and skillful nursing of our new 
 made friend, we started again for Paris on the 7th, 
 taking a steamboat up the Soane to Chalons. From 
 that day we parted not company until together we 
 landed at the of New York. 
 
 As we drove through the streets of Lyons in the 
 early hours of morning, from the hotel to the steamer, 
 we observed here a picket of dragoons, their horses 
 equipped and standing in line, ready for service at a 
 moment's warning ; there a group of infantry, sitting 
 round their camp-fires, their arms stacked hard-by, 
 and the flickering light flashing in their rough, 
 bearded faces, and dancing over their red uniforms. 
 On reaching the boat, we descended into her cabin, 
 where we were soon visited by a couple of officers, 
 who requested the privilege of looking at our pass- 
 ports. In scanning over the group of passengers 
 there assembled, we were agreeably surprised again 
 to greet the bright eyes of the " Russian Bride." We 
 subsequently met her on the " Champs Elysees" of 
 Paris. Our little steamer was warm and comfortable, 
 but most curiously constructed. Its length from stem 
 to stern was immense, while the breadth of beam was 
 only a few rods. It resembled in fact a long, keen 
 arrow, and plowed the current of the stream most 
 beautifully. The Soane has many cities, towns and 
 villages along its banks, and is spanned by suspen- 
 sion bridges innumerable. It was at this time full in 
 its banks, and perfectly alive with other steamers 
 plying on its bosom, and all built after the singular
 
 Memories ovkr tiik Watkr. 293 
 
 fashion of cm- own. AVc reached Chalons aljoiit 
 noon, and immediately took the express train fur 
 Paris, About ten o'clock that nii,dit wc were de- 
 posited at our destination, and though wc had heard 
 the city gates were closed against strangers, we found 
 no difficulty in obtaining entrance. Taking a cab we 
 proceeded to the "Hotel du Paris," along the lamp- 
 lighted streets of the gay capital, which only a few 
 days past witnessed the bloody and singularly suc- 
 cessful coiq) (Vetat of Louis Napoleon, then the Prince 
 President, now the self-elected Emperor of France.
 
 CHAPTER XLIII 
 
 We left Paris on the 30th of August, and returned 
 again December the 7th, having in the meanwhile tra- 
 versed France, Switzerland, Germany, and Italy. We 
 left the laughter-loving city, all quietude and peace, 
 and found on our return a most rigid military sur- 
 veillance prevailing, the mouths of the citizens locked 
 from fear of arrest, and the doctrine that "might is 
 right" most practically proclaimed. Louis jVapoleon 
 had, with an armed force, expelled the members of the 
 National Assembly, suffering the more timid and 
 inoffensive to go at large, but placing the bolder 
 spirits of that body under arrest. A bloody emcute 
 had succeeded this expulsion, provoked by the indig- 
 nant members of the Senate. It was soon quelled, 
 but with the loss of some five hundred ouvriers. 
 They fought behind barricades, which were either 
 blown down by the artillery, or stormed by the lancers. 
 Many of the soldiers were killed by shots fired from 
 the windows of the Boulevards, while their com- 
 rades in turn peppered the houses right and left with 
 their bullets. The struggle was a brief one only; and 
 Louis Napoleon soon had his heel upon the neck of 
 the Empire. Put at the time of our arrival the city 
 
 ' 204 )
 
 Memories over the Water. 295 
 
 was still in a state ot" great excitement, and in mo- 
 mentary expectation of again seeing the streets run 
 blood. The Prince President had shown an undis- 
 puted courage, an unflinching firmness, and a singu- 
 lar foresight in his every movement. He had made 
 his great uncle the guiding-star of his action, and no 
 sooner were his designs conceived than triumphantly 
 carried out. lie had successively issued appeals to 
 the army and to the people, and appointed the 21st of 
 December a day for the exercise of universal suffrage 
 on his conduct, whether approved of or condemned by 
 the French nation at large. "With this seeming show 
 of honesty of purpose — this apparent disposition to 
 abide by the decision of the people — combined with 
 his gallant daring and the jprestige of a glorious 
 name, he had won upon the admiration of the French, 
 and so encircled himself with the dazzling eclat of his 
 achievements, that the entire nation stood stupefied 
 and bewildered, while he rode on in proud defiance to 
 secure his now precarious footing. He had adopted 
 the plan best calculated to exalt him in the estimation 
 of the French. They have no mercy for awkward- 
 ness, either in manner or in murder. Do a thing 
 gallantly, bravely, completely, and all the atrocity of 
 the action will be lost and forgotten in the glory of 
 successfully achieving your purpose. It seems to be 
 one of their greatest characteristics to get up an idol 
 for themselves in the person of some man whom they 
 imagine vastly superior to anybody else. They have, 
 too, an exceeding fondness for outward formula, a
 
 296 Memories ovicr the Water. 
 
 reverence for a certain finish of procedure, and an 
 intense passion for the denouement. Some spicy and 
 observant writer lias said that — "If a Frenchman 
 should accidentally stab his father with a table-knife, 
 his greatest regret would be, that it was not a 
 poniard." 
 
 On reaching Paris we learned, with much regret, 
 that an old traveling companion — Lieutenant Jones, 
 of the United States' navy — had been shot down 
 during the late bloody emeute, enacted on the Boule- 
 vards. He was our companion in a very amusing 
 adventure on the Rialto at Venice, and little thought, 
 while skipping so spryly over the Piazza San Marco, 
 of the sad fate which awaited him. So soon as we 
 could discover his address we called and found him 
 in a very crippled condition. He informed us that he 
 had gone out to witness the excitement, but never 
 for an instant dreaming that there was danger in 
 w^alking the streets. He was standing in a crowd of 
 citizens — men, women and children — looking on at 
 the evolutions of the military on the Boulevards ; a 
 shot was fired from a window among the soldiers, 
 when they turned and deliberately poured a volley 
 into the mass of people before them. Our friend was 
 among tlio first that fell, his left leg badly shattered 
 by a ball, and the fore-finger of his left hand-shot 
 entirely away. The assembled multitude of course 
 dispersed with headlong speed, while the killed and 
 the wounded lay neglected in the street till the close 
 of day. Our friend was then taken up, among the
 
 Mkm(jkiks ovek the Wateu. 297 
 
 rest, and carried to the military hospital, and thence 
 
 removed, by his request, to his lodf^ings on line St. 
 
 Honorc. It was at first thought it would be necessary 
 
 to amputate his leg ; but he determined on saving it, 
 
 at the risk of his life. When we left Paris, at the 
 
 beginning of the following spring, he was still lying 
 
 in a precarious situation. The poor fellow had never 
 
 been enabled, for several months, even to change his 
 
 position in bed. 
 
 Our first care on returning to Paris — after our long 
 
 ramble through Switzerland, Germany, and Italy — 
 
 was to secure a pleasant local habitation. This we 
 
 managed to do at No. 5 Rue du Dauphin. Our 
 
 apartments were situated in one of the most agreeable 
 
 portions of the city, within a few steps of the Tuil- 
 
 leries Gardens and Palace, and convenient to the 
 
 Louvre, the Champs Elysees, the Boulevards, the 
 
 Tiieaters, the Opera Houses, and the Ball Rooms. 
 
 On an afternoon we would generally sally forth, and 
 
 turning in at the Tuilleries Gardens, stroll down their 
 
 entire length ; then, crossing the magnificent Place de 
 
 la Concorde, loiter along up the Champs Elysees as 
 
 far as the Triumphal Arch at the barriere de I'Etoile. 
 
 Here one may see the hewu and the mauvais monde 
 
 of Paris turn out in all their glory for an afternoon 
 
 promenade — some on foot, some on horseback, some 
 
 driving tandems, and some lolling lazily in their lux- 
 
 iirious coaches. There goes the coxcomb, twirling 
 
 his delicate white cane with soft hand encased in 
 
 Alexander gloves, his attenuated nether limbs impri- 
 25
 
 298 Memories ovek the Water. 
 
 soned in pants which fit as thongh he had been melted 
 and poured in, his shining beaver sitting jauntily on 
 one side of his head, and his glib tongue discoursing 
 on the merits of the last opera. There move grace- 
 fully along a pair of beauteous ladies, lifting their 
 white skirts over the dry pavement, and just high 
 enough to show the prettiest ankle and neatest bootee 
 in the world. The sweetest smile imaginable is 
 playing over their cheeks, w^iich blush under the 
 tints of the magic rouge, yet blushing and bewitching 
 nevertheless. Here sits some old beldam, grinding 
 away on her hand-organ, while her little dog, dressed 
 up in red jacket and pants, sits piteously upon his 
 hind-legs, and with a small cup in his mouth invites 
 you to deposit. A little higher up, where the crowd 
 is not so dense, you may see some mendicant fellow, 
 with a whole regiment of dogs that perform all man- 
 ner of capers under his instruction. A crowd always 
 gathers here, and the dog-trainer reaps a rich harvest 
 of sous. Out there under the trees you find Punch 
 and Judy ever engaged in their domestic tragedies. 
 A few rods beyond is an auctioneer of cosmetics, 
 warranted to render the worst complexion surpassing 
 fair. The voluble vender of the "saponaceous com- 
 pound" is an orator of the first stamp. Hear his 
 invitation — " Venez ! venez ! Messieurs 1 Ici, ici ! 
 chose extraordinaire ! " You approach his stand ; 
 when immediately you are honored with an especial 
 notice. " Pardon, Messieurs. Place pour Monsieur ; 
 par ici — pardon — non — par la ! bien ! voila, Monsieur."
 
 Memories ovek the Wateu. 299 
 
 And he ofiers a small box for your inspection, at the 
 same time dcscantini; most eloquently on its virtues, 
 and concluding with — "Pour deux francs; deux 
 Irancs seulement ! " Of course this gentleman is 
 extensively patronized by the beauty-cultivating Pa- 
 risians ; and many a credulous victim hands up his 
 two francs, and pockets the object of his purchase 
 with such a smile of intense satisfaction that you 
 might imagine he had in his fancy already become a 
 Hyperion. Farther out among the trees you may see 
 whole troops of tidily dressed children, attended by 
 their nurses, who indulge them in a ride upon the 
 flying-horses, or a sail in one of the many boats sus- 
 pended in the air, and made to imitate the rocking of 
 a vessel. 
 
 Such are some of the "tableaux vivants" that 
 attract the stranger's eye, as he takes his afternoon 
 stroll up the Champs Elysees. Everybody seems 
 amused — seems contented and happy — though at 
 the same time the professed President of the so-called 
 Republic is exercising, unopposed, the power of an 
 absolute monarch ; trampling the Constitution of a 
 nation under foot ; violating, with perfect impunity, 
 his solemn oath ; subverting the liberties of the 
 people and the press ; imprisoning and liberating 
 citizens at his pleasure ; and in fine riding rough-shod 
 right onward for the crown that now glitters before 
 his eyes. Enough, indeed, to make the blood of a 
 free-born American boil with indignation, though 
 only a stranger in tlie land. As you move along —
 
 300 Memories oyer the Water. 
 
 musing, perhaps, on the vast difference in the govern- 
 ment of nations, contrasting the state of your own 
 with that of the purple land — a small carriage dashes 
 rapidly down the broad avenue. It is flanked on 
 either side, followed and preceded by a troop of dra- 
 goons, and in it sits the usurper, Louis Napoleon. 
 His approach is heralded by no shout of "Yive 
 Napoleon," "Yive I'Empereur;" but the idle crowd, 
 ouvrier, and prince, suffer him to pass on in silence. 
 In a few days the free vote of the people is taken on 
 the conduct of the President. Everything is con- 
 ducted under the eye of the modem Cromwell, and 
 of course the majority approving his course is over- 
 whelming. They have no confidence in, no love for, 
 the man ; yet they support him, simply in fact, 
 because they can do no better. Step by step he 
 marches onward, and finally mounts the throne of 
 France. And still he is unopposed ; because, weary 
 of fruitless revolutions, the people crave peace — no 
 matter w'hether it be monarchical or republican — that 
 their private interests may go on and prosper.
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 December the lOtli we paid a visit to "Pere La 
 Chaise " — the famous burying-ground of Paris. We 
 caught aa omnibus just at the church of St, Pooh, 
 and by means of the corresponding lines were con- 
 veyed to the very gate of the cemetery. We there 
 employed a guide, who piloted us through this beau- 
 tiful resting-place of the dead, and pointed out the 
 graves of the most distinguished characters. Many 
 of the Marshals of France have found a resting-place 
 here — among them may be seen the grave of the 
 gallant Ney ; but it has no monumental marble about 
 it — not a slab nor a stone to mark the spot where 
 the "bravest of the brave" reposes. The space is 
 simply inclosed by an iron railing, while above his 
 head droops the evergreen but mournful cypress. 
 Conspicuous among the countless tombs is the monu- 
 ment erected over the remains of Abclard, the martyr 
 of love, and Heloise, the pale-faced nun. What 
 schoolboy hath not mused over the melancholy story 
 of their mutual love, until he hath almost worshiped 
 at the shrine of so beautiful an attachment ; and what 
 matnrer manhood, in all the strong conviction, per- 
 haps the bitterness of his skepticism, might not drop 
 
 ''301) ■
 
 302 Memories over the "Water. 
 
 a tear above their heads. As the sun was about 
 sinking in the west we took our departure, and re- 
 turned homeward by way of the Boulevards — that 
 gay thoroughfare so prolific in objects of interest to 
 the seekers of pleasure or the students of history. 
 Beginning at the Place Bastille you proceed from the 
 Boulevard du Temple, where blouses and enormous 
 beards abound, down to the Boulevard des Capucines, 
 where yellow kids and patent leather predominate. 
 The Boulevards are in fact a regular graduation 
 from the hard-working, revolutionary classes, to the 
 pomatumed, perfumed and brocaded froth of society. 
 Next to the Boulevard du Temple, or the Boulevard 
 de Crime, as it has been historically called, succeed 
 the Boulevards, St. Martin, St. Denis and Poissonnier, 
 with their coquettish grisettes and dandy dry-goods 
 shopmen. Then come the Boulevards des Italiens 
 and des Capucines — the microcosm of brilliant, 
 gilded Paris, exhibiting all the fashion of coat and 
 pantaloons, of bonnets, bootees and braces that the city 
 contains. The motion of these pretty bootees might 
 be called a sort of a prose polka, so graceful and easy, 
 so elastic and magnetic is the musical tapping of the 
 high-heeled gaiters. But if in a historical mood the 
 omnibus driver may point you out the street where 
 Mirabeau died, the house where Richelieu made 
 love, and the building in which Lafitte hatched the 
 revolution of 1830; the hell of Frascati; the garden 
 of Bcaumarchais, and the triumphal arches of the 
 Portes St. Denis and St. Martin. By the time you
 
 Memories over the Water. 303 
 
 have reached the Church of the Madeleiue, with its 
 lofty iluted columns, commenced by Napoleon, and 
 by him called the Temple of Fame, the gas is lighted, 
 and the entire length of the Boulevards is one brilliant 
 illumination, as busy with its thousands of pedestrians 
 as in the broad blaze of day. You may now turn in 
 at the restaurant of the " Trois Freres," and dine in 
 just whatever manner you may see fit. This much 
 accomplished you leave the mirror-cased walls of this 
 fashionable resort, and repair to the Theatre Francaise, 
 on Rue Richelieu, not far from the Palais Royal, and 
 listen to some of the deep tragedies of Rachel. Per- 
 haps you may see her in Adrienne, and if so we will 
 defy you to keep back the tear, when she receives 
 again the bouquet of roses from the Count de Saxe, 
 and in such sad. touchiner and heart-broken tones 
 murmurs " Ma pauvre bouquet! demandee par lui! 
 donnee parmoi!" Iler accent is the very echo of 
 bleeding confidence, and the fondling of the dear 
 flowers in her hands a mournful elegy to expiring 
 love. Though she spoke not in our native tongue, 
 yet never before nor since hath woman, on the stage, 
 so stirred the latent emotions of our heart. 
 
 On the first of January, 1852, Louis Napoleon 
 gave a grand fetc^ which he celebrated in person at 
 the time-honored cathedral of Notre Dame. The 
 church was most royally fitted up for the occasion. 
 The soldier}'' and citizens of Paris turned out tn masse^ 
 though a close observer might have detected the deep 
 under-cnrrent of hatred that was running riot in the
 
 304 Memories over the Water. 
 
 hearts of many against the usurper, yet the outward 
 show was all in his favor. One murmur of discontent 
 was the sure precursor to imprisonment, and so what- 
 ever opposition he may have had, it was left to rankle 
 in the heart of the possessor. We could but conclude, 
 as Louis Xapoleon rode at the head of his thousands 
 of troops, cheered by citizen and soldier, that though 
 he might reach the throne of France in safety, he 
 could never maintain his seat. Change, political 
 change, seems the necessary aliment — the national 
 nourishment of the French people. They bore then 
 the nephew of their great chief in triumph to the con- 
 summation of his heart's desire : it may be in a few 
 years more the masses, beginning to crave some new 
 excitement, will rise up and depose the present incum- 
 bent of the throne for some new idol. So wa2;s tlie 
 world, and who shall say nay 1 
 
 But in the meanwhile Louis Napoleon rode tri- 
 umphantly on. The French Republic was rapidly 
 merging into the French Empire. By order of the 
 dictator the trees of liberty were all laid Ioav in the 
 dust ; the motto of the Eepublic — " Liberte, Egalitc, 
 Fraternite " — erased from the public buildings ; the 
 goddess of Freedom on the French coin supplanted by 
 the head of Napoleon ; and soon the daring President 
 had exchanged his democratic residence for the Palace 
 of the Tuilleries. Balls and fetes were his policy. 
 High living to the army insured their devotion to his 
 cause, and magnificent celebrations so tickled the eye 
 of the capital, that in their pomp and parade the
 
 Memories over the Water. 305 
 
 oLjoct fur which they were gotten up Avas all forgotten. 
 From some, who hiul lost relatives and friends in the 
 tight on the Boulevards, went up curses '^nut loud 
 but deep." Yet the tyrant was a determined fatal- 
 ist — he believed in his star, and heard no foreboding 
 omen in the deep muttering of the discontented, lie 
 thought it probable he might be assassinated, and 
 with reference to that event calmly made his will, 
 ordaining that France, at his death, should be gov- 
 erned by four of his favorite generals, whom he named. 
 Whether his last will and testament, instituting this 
 military oligarchy, would have been as much respect- 
 ed, in the event of his decease, as his commands when 
 livino-, and with a hundred thousand armed men to 
 enforce them, might be a matter of some doubt. 
 
 But from the hour on which he struck the first 
 bloody blow he had everything his own w'ay. Under 
 his bold dominion all things moved smoothly on. It 
 seemed that the very wheels of faith were oiled for his 
 purposes, so easily did he accomplish his every design. 
 The most powerful men in the empire, whom he had 
 the least reason to deem hostile to his administration, 
 were banished the state. He had trampled one con- 
 stitution under foot, and now promulgated another. 
 Its provisions were short and concise, positive and 
 pertinent, giving almost absolute power into the 
 hands of the President, It was prefaced by a long 
 appeal to the people, whose tenor was to inculcate 
 implicit faith in his integrity and unhesitating obedi- 
 ence to his mandates, lie boldly grasped the reins
 
 30 G Memokies ovek the Water. 
 
 of government, but to give some show of authority 
 to his daring assumption, he himself gets up a con- 
 stitution, which gave the President the power of the 
 Emperor. Despite the bold and uncompromising 
 manner in which he wielded the power he had usurp- 
 ed, matters soon began to assume a settled complexion. 
 Decree after decree went forth, and whatever its pur- 
 port, its mandates were unhesitatingly executed. The 
 estates of the Orleans Family were declared confis- 
 cated, and when remonstrated with, he simply ad- 
 duced the example set him by the successors of 
 Napoleon Bonaparte. But he might have been told 
 that his uncle, like himself, was an interloper, and 
 not the lineal and legitimate heir to the throne ! 
 
 The foreiijners at that time in Faris were almost 
 unanimously of the opinion, that the fires of a fearful 
 revolution were slumbering under the pacific exterior 
 of afiairs, and that any one, who should quiet himself 
 with the thought that all danger had passed, was only 
 sleeping, in fancied security, on the crater of the 
 troubled Volcano. But the eruption is yet delayed, 
 and the calm seems likely to continue some time 
 longer, unless the Turko-Eussian war give occasion 
 to the disaffected to vent their smothered wrath. 
 
 On reviewing the course of Louis Napoleon, sub- 
 sequent to his expulsion of the members of the 
 National Assembly, we were more and more inclined 
 to indulge a lenient opinion on his late conduct. 
 From our observation of the French people we had 
 become convinced that tlie time had not yet arrived
 
 Memories over tlie Water. 307 
 
 when a permanent Republicau fonn of government 
 could be instituted in France, When ruled with a 
 strong arm and an iron rod she seemed as prosperous 
 and more contented than during the brief life of the 
 Republic. Moreover, by the bold stroke of 2d of 
 December Louis Napoleon had at least maintained 
 order, and thereby preserved France, and possibly 
 Europe, from a bloody revolution. Yet as an Ameri- 
 can, wo could but regret the extinction of the French 
 Republic. The failure of that experiment tended 
 much to weaken the faith of the world in the efficacy 
 of popular institutions, and greatly retarded the ad- 
 vance of freedom, of humanity and of general intelli- 
 gence. Again America stood alone, the only Repub- 
 lic amons: the nations of rank that could command 
 the respect of the world. May she still live on the 
 same glorious fabric — the great exemplar of truth in 
 the midst of error — the fair daughter of Freedom 
 vailed in the pure light of Republican principles — 
 immutable as the adamant — unsullied as the snow 
 upon her mountain tops!
 
 CHAPTER XLV 
 
 Every American who spends a winter in Paris 
 will, of course, attend one of the grand Masked Balls, 
 which begin about the first of January. They are 
 rich, rare and racy, quaint, queer and quizzical, en- 
 chanting, wicked and brilliant. Just imagine several 
 thousand people let loose at midnight in the Grand 
 Opera House, determined to dance, flirt, shout, and 
 gallop until morning, with Musard for the presiding 
 genius ! Our first view of the floor, as we stepped 
 inside the building, was enough to induce the thought 
 of one general rush to insanity. The dance was in 
 full blast, and from the very foot of the orchestra to 
 the balustrade of the boxes was one grand "cancanic" 
 movement. The soul of every man and woman 
 seemed absorbed in the rioting vortex, while the 
 fiddle-bow of Musard described the most fantastic, 
 maniac diagrams upon the frighted air. The upper 
 tiers were crowded wdth dominoes of every descrip- 
 tion, and it was almost impossible to thrust yourself 
 through the dense mass of intriguants assembled in 
 the foyer. Disguised voices and unknown pressures 
 of the hand greeted you from every side. You step 
 down into the parterre to get a better look at the 
 
 (30H)
 
 Memoriks ovek tiik Water, 309 
 
 dancers. You liavc scarcely touched the floor before 
 you are whizzed oft" in the embrace of some big war- 
 rior, and away goes the gallopade, neck or nothing — 
 hundreds before, hundreds behind you — they come 
 like the Assyrian. You are in the very midst of the 
 melee. Your warrior urges you on, shouting, push- 
 ing, helter-skelter, until all tumble headlong together. 
 Then comes a burst like a war-whoop, and yon find 
 yourself about three feet deep among the petticoats. 
 Your hat is irretrievably ruined. But in another 
 moment all are upon their legs, and again dash off 
 into the maddening excitement. 
 
 " 'T is tlie carnival's madness, 
 When riot runs free. 
 And revel wins sadness 
 To share in its glee." 
 
 Amiability reigns supreme. Give and take is the 
 motto. A hasty pardon is sufficient atonement for 
 a flesh-wound from the spur of a cavalier, or having 
 your eye damaged by the pointed chapeau of some 
 military hero. The personation of the devil is a 
 favorite character, and you see his red legs and 
 chicken-cock feather on every occasion. The women 
 delight in playing the "gamin" — a vagabond sort of a 
 boy — or the Spanish cavalier, with his slashed sleeves 
 and velvet sombrero. It is no easy matter to detect 
 your most intimate acquaintance in domino and mask. 
 The figure is so completely concealed, and the eyes 
 have sucli a singular appearance, peeping from behind
 
 310 Memories over the Water. 
 
 the pasteboard bulwarks, that they can defy the closest 
 scrntiii}''. It is a point of honor not to attempt to raise 
 the small piece of silk falling from the bottom of the 
 mask over the mouth ; so you have but few points left 
 to identify your tormentor. The hand and foot may 
 sometimes betray, but your cunning companion takes 
 good care never to draw her glove or allow you to tie 
 her shoe. After much legerdemain you may succeed 
 in stealino; her handkerchief. You now feel like 
 Bonaparte at Marengo. You run your eye over 
 every inch of the cambric ; but it is as blank as a 
 virgin page or a dandy's face, not even a hieroglyphic. 
 Your invention is exhausted. You arc without helm 
 or compass, and must cry quarter. You may never 
 discover the incognito, though she speaks English 
 fluently, and is w^ell acquainted with the history of 
 your life. 
 
 But you return to the parterre, from the foyer, and 
 find the dance still going on. An innumerable bevy 
 of damsels, with short velvet jackets and Turkish 
 pants of white, striped at each side with blue satin, 
 are whirling like so many tops before your eyes. 
 Every design and caricature of fantastic dress, a most 
 dazzling and brilliantly-illuminated room, and one of 
 the finest orchestras in the known world are a few of 
 the attractions of the magnificent display. The 
 measure of the music is so bewitchingly inviting that, 
 though you went not for the purpose of mingling with 
 the dancers, your restive feet finally bear you away, 
 nolente volente. Every one vies with the other in
 
 Memories over the Watp:r, 311 
 
 cutting; tlie most amazlnt,' and oxtravaj^ant capers. 
 Everything is one ceaseless whirl, until you tiiiuk 
 that all the wild gayety and maddening dissipatitm 
 of Paris had concentrated in one focus. "We had 
 visited the Mabille, the Chateau des Flcurs, the 
 Valentino, the balls at the Opera Comique, and the 
 Jardin d'lliver, but never had we witnessed so varied 
 and so droll, so animated and so dazzling a scene of 
 dissipation, as the parterre of that Opera House that 
 night presented. Every one had free license to act 
 just as they pleased, provided only there was no 
 fighting. This is seldom the case ; though we have 
 seen a struggling grisette borne out of the house on 
 the shoulder of some stoic gend'arme, who had found 
 her about to plunder some successful rival of a pair 
 of eyes. But these scenes are very unusual, and the 
 greatest good-will generally prevails. The dance is 
 carried on until the gas-lights begin to pale before the 
 morning sun. The ball is over, and the thousands 
 of the gay votaries of pleasure depart — who knows 
 where % 
 
 We heard of an amusing adventure of an American 
 youth, which occurred on his starting homeward from 
 one of these balls. lie and his friend made a slight 
 error in coming out in the dark, and took possession 
 of a private carriage, standing in front of the Opera, 
 mistaking it for a cab ; indeed the rain was falling in 
 torrents, and in the darkness and hurry they took no 
 trouble to distinguish the diflercnce. The coachman 
 grew furious at the astonishing coolness with which
 
 312 Memokiks ovkk thk Water. 
 
 the gay Lothario ordered him to drive to his lodgings. 
 The little man threatened to hand them over to the 
 police, if they did not descend instantcr. The in- 
 truder insisted upon explaining the matter before 
 alirrhtino:; but the incensed Jehu would not listen 
 to him, fully persuaded he had entered the coach 
 designedly. Finding the gentleman unreasonable, he 
 became indignant, and knocked the unhappy man's 
 •hat over his eyes, and made his escape into another 
 vehicle, while he vcas filling the depths of his chapeau 
 with his execrations, and dancing about in the rain 
 like a decapitated chicken. 
 
 During the winter that we were in Paris it M^as the 
 custom of the American Consul, Mr. Goodrich, to 
 hold a reception at his rooms on Hue de la Paix 
 every Friday evening. Here you might meet with 
 most of the Americans in Paris, with a charming 
 diversity in the way of the gay French. These social 
 gatherings were very agreeable, and served to render 
 our Consul very popular with his countrymen in 
 Europe. His wife and two daughters were very 
 pleasant ladies, especially the daughters, who danced 
 superbly. Mr. Goodrich, who, be it remembered, 
 is the veritable Peter Parley — that old gentleman 
 so popular with every child in the Union — we 
 found a courteous and accomplislied gentleman. 
 Among the agreeable acquaintances we formed at his 
 receptions, we may not forget a sweet young girl from 
 the city of New York — a fair maiden with pensive, 
 lustrous hazel eyes that seemed the very windows of
 
 Memoeies over the Watek. 313 
 
 a feelin2r, full and trutlifnl soul. She was one of 
 those magnetic fairies to whom you felt involuntarily 
 attracted — in whose presence you loved to linger, and 
 whose absence you immediately felt and regretted. 
 Her beaming smile went directly to the heart, awoke 
 its chords to a responsive sympathy, and filling up 
 its recesses with the breathing music of a congenial 
 spirit. As regularly as the appointed hour rolled 
 round we would find ourself wending our way to bask 
 again in the sunshine of that smile. 
 
 On the evening of the 7th of February we went, in 
 company with Brady, Bent and "Walker, to a very 
 fashionable ball, celebrated by the dramatic artists of 
 Paris, at the Opera Comique, Our companion Bent, 
 Lieutenant in the United States' navy, is the same 
 gentleman of whom Bayard Taylor speaks so highly 
 in his letters descriptive of the Japan Expedition. 
 He was at that time on furlough, and traveling 
 through Europe. He had for companions, during a 
 portion of his tour, Messrs. Walker, Boudinot, Jones, 
 and Gwathmey — all lieutenants in the United States' 
 navy. On reaching the ballroom we found most of 
 the stage celebrities of Paris in attendance. The 
 handsome room presented a very brilliant appearance, 
 resplendent with a dashing display of dress among 
 the ladies. Many of them were quite pretty. The 
 balls at the Opera Comique are something sul gen- 
 eris. They are more dressy, more distingue than 
 those of the Jardin d'Hiver ; they are not charac- 
 terized by the untrammelcd revelry of thei?a? Masque 
 20
 
 314 Memokies ovek the Watek, 
 
 at the Grand Opera ; they have not the poetry of the 
 Chateau des Flours, the Mabille, or the Chateau 
 Rouge ; nor yet have they the plebeian cast of the 
 Valentino or the Paganini. They are more patron- 
 ized by the liaut ton of the capital, and boast a 
 greater degree of reserve than any other public affair. 
 The stranger, as he glances over the city of Paris, 
 sees its worst features at a blush. There is an 
 atmosphere of frivolity and looseness about the place 
 that convinces him immediately must, in a greater or 
 less degree, contaminate tlie entire population. Yet 
 the aggregate of wickedness may not rise much higher 
 here than in many other European capitals. It is 
 indeed more openly patronized, and therefore appears 
 the more enormous. Vice stands un vailed, and the 
 social system, like an ostrich, hides but a small 
 portion of its carcass in the decencies of life, and 
 leaves the rest uncovered. Suicide, Foundling Hos- 
 pitals, the Morgue, the Theaters, the Masked Balls, 
 etc., form strong features in the first view of Paris. 
 But, alas for the nature of man, how soon one gets 
 used to them ! how soon indifferent to their horrors 
 or their follies.
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 Among our many pleasant resorts at Taris we may 
 not forget the social balls given by our dancing- 
 master at No. 320 Rue St. Ilonore. They were not 
 very numerously attended, but all the more pleasant 
 for that. The leader of our festivities was a very 
 clever young Frenchman, whose rare entertaining 
 qualities and inexhaustible fund of new and amusing 
 dances made him at once the "damoiseau du bal." 
 But the " helle of the ball " was a pretty little French 
 woman, married to a dark-browed and somber-look- 
 ing individual, who seemed not much to relish the 
 merry-making. His gay and fascinating little wife, 
 however, danced away, and was as light-hearted 
 and joyous as the merriest at the jubilee. B. was 
 there, and having aboard several glasses, was one 
 of the politest and happiest fellows in the world. 
 He would insist on helping and re-helping the ladies 
 to punch, and when the dance was concluded would 
 go round fanning each and every lady in the room. 
 V. was also there. His natural disposition was gay 
 and animated, but on these occasions he was a perfect 
 wild-cat. Poor fellow ! he was then under the advice 
 
 p,nd treatment of the celebrated physician Baron Loui3 
 
 ( :^l•^ )
 
 31G Memories over the AVater. 
 
 for consumption. And then there was the fat Ger- 
 man, weighing not an ounce less than two hundred 
 avoirdupois, and yet one of the best waltzers we ever 
 saw. 
 
 Among the many curious dances we must not omit 
 mention of one, Avherein the company all join hands 
 and dance around a lady posted iu the center. After 
 the lapse of a few moments the lady iu the circle 
 chooses from among the sterner sex a partner, who 
 leaves the ring and joins hands with his fair com- 
 panion. The dance is then continued again, and 
 accompanied with a song; at a certain part thereof 
 the center couple bow ; at another they kneel facing 
 each other ; and at another the lady gracefully and 
 coquettishly presents each cheek for the gentlemen to 
 salute. They then rise, the lady joins the circle of 
 dancers, and the gentleman chooses him a partner 
 from among the gentler sex ; and so on alternately. 
 This dance was quite the favorite, only it was painful 
 to see how assiduously the prettiest ladies were sought, 
 and alas ! to see how studiously certain others were 
 avoided. 
 
 Witli many such dances were the festivities pro- 
 longed, until frequently the gray eye of' morning 
 looked in, and found the revelers there. 
 
 On the evening of the 14th of February we attend- 
 ed the grand ball given for the benefit of the poor, 
 at the Jardin d'lliver, and under the especial aus- 
 pices of the Prince President. Turning down Rue 
 Rivoli, from Rue du Dauphin, we proceeded under
 
 Memories over the Waikr. 317 
 
 the cover of its handsome arcades, until wi; reached 
 the Place de la Concorde. Crossing' over this niairui- 
 ficent Square, we passed under the shad(jvv ut' the 
 obelisk of Luxor, and proceeded ouM-ard up the 
 Champs Elysecs. Tlie stranger who has once seen 
 this portion of Paris by gas-light, may never forget 
 its magic beauty. A long line of brilliant lights 
 reach far away in the distance, up to the Triumphal 
 Arch, sparkling like thick-set gems in the deep man- 
 tle of night. On each and every side of the Place 
 de la Concorde flicker the burnished lamps, shedding 
 a flood of light to guide the nocturnal rambler on his 
 way. On every hand dark-browed buildings lift up 
 their giant forms, and cast their far-reaching shadows 
 out upon the Square. In its center stands the famous 
 obelisk of Luxor, with its queer hieroglyphics, and 
 looking down upon the spot where, in the dark and 
 bloody days of Prance, the insatiate Guillotine called, 
 with clamorous voice, for food. 
 
 But we have crossed the square, and about half- 
 way up the Champs Elysees we reach the Jardin 
 d'lliver. Depositing our hat and palteau at the door, 
 and paying our admission fee, we pass in, and a scene 
 of perfect enchantment is spread before our eyes. We 
 stand under the roof of a beautiful crystal palace, 
 brilliantly illuminated with countless chandeliers, 
 and redolent with the perfume of flowers. A magni- 
 flcent band of music is playing one of its most spirited 
 airs, and thousands of the gay dancers, with flying 
 feet, sweep before us, as we stand for a moment in
 
 318 Memories ovek the Watee. 
 
 silent admiration of the magic scene. Between the 
 pauses of the music, you hear the busy hum of voices, 
 and in the distance the sound of falling water, as it 
 joyously mounts upon the perfumed air, from the 
 depths of the sculpture-decked fountains, and falls 
 airain, like a shower of diamonds, into the marble- 
 rimmed basin. You stroll leisurely along through 
 the mazy labyrinths of tliis fairy building, now ming- 
 ling with the dancers under the full glare of the 
 chandelier, and now straying under the shade of the 
 orange-grove. The senses are lulled into a dreamy 
 repose, as the soft swell of the music and the lute- 
 like murmuring of the falling water steal, with deli- 
 cious footsteps, along the avenues of the soul. There 
 is a dream of happy lands upon the spirit — lands 
 beneath the tropics, where all is beauty, and the 
 heart doth waste itself in mere pursuit of joy. There 
 are fountains and flowers, music and mirth, crimson 
 and blue, the draped glory of oriental luxury. Along 
 through the Paphian bowers we stray, and turning 
 into a shaded pathway, a being of youth and beauty 
 breaks upon our sight like a startled fawn. Not one 
 only, but a host of Cyprians lovelier than the Lamias 
 of old — crushed rose-leaves scattered from the vases 
 of luxury to feed the passions and lure the judgment 
 of man. Look at the eyes of that child of sin — see 
 the dove-like expression of her glance — the pure 
 white of her lily fingers as she parts the long hair 
 from her brow where purity itself seems throned — 
 then mark that seductive little foot nestled on its blw§
 
 Memories over the "Water. 319 
 
 cushion like a Halcyon on the water, and that young 
 breast, whose gentle movement swells to rapture at 
 your dreamy gaze, and those light lips so ripe, so 
 warm, so full of bliss yet unrcvealed; and tell us 
 where mischief stops when such an agent holds the 
 torch ! Look on a picture such as this, and see one 
 phase in Paris life — see the current of that flowery 
 stream along which glide the chain bound captives 
 of the Syren, heedless of that deep, dark gulf toward 
 which their oarless boats are swiftly tending. But 
 when once the murky goal is reached, at memory's 
 call shall start — 
 
 Such hideous phantoms from the pall. 
 
 That shuts the present from the past. 
 As turn life's sweetest cup to gall 
 
 And wormwood — the sirocco blast, 
 Thatwitliers with its dragon breath. 
 
 Perchance the return hope hath fed 
 A faint and sickly flame, ere yet 
 
 Its every feeble ray had fled. 
 And, struggling on its course, had set 
 
 In the still chaos of despair. 
 Grim specters, like to murder'd ghosts. 
 
 Then lift their grizzly forms, and stare 
 And scowl upon the soul ; but lost 
 
 To joy or fear, it voiceless sits, 
 As the mute statue vacant looks 
 
 Upon the fiery waste, nor recks 
 Where roll the red and lambent floods. 
 
 But we are getting metaphysically moral, and so will 
 return to the ball. Not until about two o'clock in tlie
 
 320 Memories over the Water. 
 
 morning did the crowd begin to disperse, and give the 
 gay dancers the open field. This desideratum being 
 accomplished, innumeraible couples went whirling 
 away to the measure of most exquisite music. Now 
 and then two of them would come in contact, and 
 send each other spinning and laughing away in oppo- 
 site directions. But nothing broke the. enjoyment of 
 the night — "all went merry as a marriage bell." 
 The close of the ball was its most pleasant part. The 
 spectators had departed, leaving the room cool and 
 pleasant, and the dancers to conclude the festive 
 scene. Then came that reckless, frenzied dance, 
 denominated the " Cancan." It is said that it origi- 
 nated with the Due d'Orleans. To describe it were 
 impossible, but when once seen it is never forgotten. 
 
 " On with the dance — let joy be unconfincd! 
 No sleep till morn, wlien youth aud pleasure meet 
 To chase the glowing hours with flying feet." 
 
 And on went the dance until the early morn, when 
 the curtain dropped upon the scene of mirth, and the 
 gay revelers dispersed to rouse the drowsy " con- 
 cierge," and sleep the next day out. We slumbered 
 unconscious of the busy world about us, until about 
 two o'clor-k, p. M., on the succeeding day. We then 
 got up, and, after rather a late breakfast, we betook 
 ourself to the Tuilleries Gardens to look on at the gay 
 gambols of the children that gather here to enjoy the 
 many amusements incident to childhood. Some we 
 found jumping the rope; others were chasing the
 
 Memories over the Water, 321 
 
 variegated foot-ball over the smooth, hard ground ; 
 some were feeding the swans, as they glided so 
 proudly over the water-ponds; some sailing their 
 boats, and some playing hide-and-seek with their 
 favorite poodles — presenting a scene of perfect happi- 
 ness. He who would have his heart refreshed, after 
 the dissipation of a night, let him go, on a bright 
 Sunday afternoon, to the Tuilleries Gardens, where, 
 in strong contrast to the reckless revelry of maturer 
 age, he will see the bright faces and hear the sweet 
 voices of happy, innocent childhood. Let him not, 
 however, speculate upon the future lot of those 
 guileless ones — for heavy shadows may loom before 
 the sight, and chase the smile of sweet innocence 
 from off those sunny brows. The hour of study, the 
 world, the lover, the neglect, the Seine, the Morgue, 
 the dissecting-room. 
 
 A visit to St. Cloud may be made both profitable 
 and pleasant. You may see the maneuvers of the 
 military, and explore the Chateau and its adjacent 
 grounds. The list runs — bedroom of the Emperor, 
 furniture of Josephine, the scene of the announce- 
 ment. Billiard-room, Library, and Orangery. The 
 Seine winds gently along by the Palace, lending the 
 charm of water scenery to his favorite resort of 
 Napoleon. The situation of the Chateau is very 
 fine, and commands an excellent view of Paris. 
 
 Then one should see too the Pantheon, the Palace 
 of the Luxembourg, the Jardin des Plants, the 
 
 Gobelins, the Hotel Cluney, the Quatier Latin, the 
 
 27
 
 822 Memories over the Water. 
 
 Jews' Quarter, the Champs de Mars, the Morgue, 
 the Artesian Well, the Bois dii Boulogue, the Chateau 
 Mendon, the Sevres Porcelain Manufactory the Place 
 de la Carrousel, the Louvre and its galleries of sculp- 
 ture and paintings, the Madeleine, the Observatoire, 
 the Palais Royal, St. Roch, the Oratoire, the Institut 
 de France, Neuilly, the City Granary, the Salle Yic- 
 toire, the Valentino, the Paganini, the Prado, the 
 Academic, the Sorbonne, etc., to the end of the chap- 
 ter. They will all repay the trouble of a visit, but 
 are too well known to require a description.
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 On the 23d of February, 1852, tlie three days of 
 tlie Carnival began, and, as customary, with the 
 celebration of the " Boeuf Gras," At 10 o'clock, a. m., 
 the procession set out from the Ilippodrome, and 
 moved down the Faubourg St. Ilonore, stopping for a 
 short time before the " Elysee National," then the 
 residence of the Prince President. 
 
 But this time-honored and national custom has 
 sadly degenerated from its former magnificence, 
 and the affair we witnessed was by no means a 
 creditable one to the city of Paris. The procession 
 was headed by about twenty drummere — they never 
 use the fife in France — after whom followed a com- 
 pany of fancifully-dressed horsemen. Then came 
 "the fatted ox," with his horns gilded, and his body 
 wreathed with flowers. ISText succeeded a chariot, 
 drawn by four horses abreast, in which stood a 
 woman with a helmet on her head, representing, wo 
 presume, the Goddess of Liberty. Then came two 
 handsome cars, very large, and crowded with men 
 and women in fancy dress, all bedecked with banners 
 and flowers. The procession was accompanied by a 
 body of mounted men to preserve order and prevent 
 
 any riotous disposition. The cavalcade, with its 
 
 323 >
 
 324 Memories over the Water. 
 
 pageantry, proceeded throngliout tlic length of the 
 cit}^ winding up about the close of the day. 
 
 The Monday following was celebrated in pretty 
 much the same way, and Tuesday concluded the fes- 
 tival. In the early part of the day the " Boeuf Gras" 
 was again led around the city, and toward evening a 
 long line of carriages began to form along the Boule- 
 vards, down Rue Royal and across the Place de la 
 Concorde. The line extended up the Boulevards as 
 far as the Porte St. Denis, where it turned down 
 again on the opposite side, and retraced its course 
 back to the Place de la Concorde, thus forming a 
 circle. It was composed of every class of vehicle, 
 and must have been miles in length. Here was the 
 gilded coach of the Nabob, there the light chariot of 
 the Prince, here the democratic cab, there the coarse 
 cart of the peasant overflowing with his buxum wife 
 and many chubby offspring. As we stood looking 
 on there passed by a handsome carriage, with liveried 
 driver and footman, and in it sat the very embodi- 
 ment of loveliness — a beautiful French girl, with 
 hazel eyes and flowing curls. Just as the coach 
 came opposite where we stood, the fair inmate threw 
 open the window and called to the footman, who sat 
 perched up behind. But the lackey in livery was so 
 busily occupied in noting the accouterments of the 
 cavalcade, that he did not hear the repeated calls of 
 his fair lady. Observing this, we stepped up, and, 
 tapping the absent-minded servant with our cane, 
 directed his attention to the fair maiden. How little
 
 Memokiks ovicii THE "Watek. 325 
 
 incidents Bometimes linger on tlie mind ! For our 
 courtesy we were rewarded with one of the sweetest 
 of smiles. That fair face came and passed ; but the 
 heart-cheering light of that smile took up its abode in 
 our memory, and even now, in our lonelier moments, 
 will come gleaming, like a ray of sunshine, from out 
 the twilight of the past, to illumine the pathway of life. 
 
 From the top of the Tanthcon, the Triumphal 
 Arch, and the column in the Place Yendome, may 
 be had excellent views of the great city Paris. Fre- 
 quently we would climb to their summits to look 
 over the vast metropolis, and study the map of its 
 geography. Then coming down we would visit the 
 Morgue, a small, dingy building, sitting just on the 
 bank of the Seine. This house of the dead was 
 seldom without some occupant. The features of some 
 were distorted as though they had died in violent 
 agonies, while those of others wore as calm and placid 
 a smile as though the insensate clay were only sleep- 
 ing. Outside the gloomy building you might ever 
 find a crowd, gathered to laugh and amuse itself at 
 the comic actions of some poor devil, who, by his 
 mimicry of monkey capers, was wont to gather a few 
 sous that might keep body and soul together. There 
 Avas but one step from noisy life to pulseless death. 
 
 On the Champs Elysees you might, every after- 
 noon, meet the carriage of the embryo Emperor. As 
 you pass along you observe a policeman suddenly 
 appear on the crowded carriage-way, arresting the 
 progress of some, and hurrying that of others. By
 
 326 Memories over the Water. 
 
 this yon may know the President is about to appear. 
 Soon a modest little coujpee dashes out, now accom- 
 panied by no body-guard. The stranger steps to the 
 side-walk to have a fair view of him as he passes. 
 He is greeted with a few feeble cheers, and you have 
 a fine view of his face as he goes by, for he is bending 
 forward, looking out of the window, and gracefully 
 touching his hat to those who cheer him. Occasion- 
 ally some poor woman rushes out from the sidewalk, 
 and throws a petition in at the carriage window. 
 She was made a widow, perhaps, during the fight on 
 the Boulevards. 
 
 After visiting the Hotel Cluney, built on the site of 
 the old Palace of Thermes, and filled with all manner 
 of antiquities, you may stroll over the " Quatier 
 Latin," look in at the Sorbonne, and note the medical 
 students, the Bedouins of Paris. On your return call 
 in at the time-honored Cathedral of Notre Dame, 
 and stroll among its solemn arches. Here you may 
 see the magnificent robes of state worn by Napoleon 
 at his coronation ; many rich and costly jewels ; and 
 the gorgeous apparel of the priests, who, with the 
 Pope, ofiiciated at the ceremony. Here you may also 
 see a beautiful painting, of modern execution, repre- 
 senting the death of the Archbishop of Paris, during 
 the revolution of 184:8. You will also be shown a 
 piece of the spine of the revered man, pierced by a 
 golden arrow, to show the course of the ball which 
 occasioned his death. On its point is stuck the 
 identical piece of lead, which is preserved as a
 
 Memories over the Water. 327 
 
 precious memento of the holy martyr. You may see, 
 too, a very expressive marble group, representing the 
 prophetic dream of a wife. She is portrayed as 
 gazing on the emaciated body of her husband, as he 
 raises himself from out his coffin, the lid of which is 
 held up by a sorrowing angel. At its head stands 
 the gaunt figure of Death, wrapped partially in a 
 gloomy mantle, above which peers his hideous head. 
 
 In this cathedral we stood upon the very stone 
 where Napoleon stood to receive the crown from the 
 Pope, while Mrs. B. occupied the position of the 
 Empress Josephine. The guide will tell you that 
 Napoleon approached the steps of the altar to receive 
 the crown, and, inasmuch as his Holiness was too 
 long in pronouncing the coronation ceremony, the 
 impatient warrior took the crown himself from the 
 hands of the Pope, and placed it on his brow, and 
 then turning deposited the diadem on the head of 
 Josephine. Ill-fated omen to the Napoleon dynasty. 
 
 On the 2Sth of February we paid a visit to Lafay- 
 ette's grave. Accompanied b}^ Brady and Brevard 
 we took an omnibus at Palais lloyal, and passing up 
 the left bank of the Seine we reached, by Rue St. 
 Antoine, the Place Bastille. Here we changed our 
 omnibus, and, by means of our through tickets, 
 called by the Parisiens correspojidence^ we left the 
 Bastille with its beautiful bronze column, capped by 
 a winged statue, richly gilded, and erected to the 
 memoiy of those who fell in the revolution of the 
 27th, 28th, and 29th of July, 1830, and pursued our
 
 328 Memories over the "Water. 
 
 way toward the Barriere du Troiie, On each side of 
 this gateway rises a beautiful and lofty fluted column, 
 its base handsomely ornamented with bas-reliefs, and 
 presenting a fine appearance, as seen from a distance. 
 Soon after passing the Barriere we reached the fine 
 old fortress of Vincennes, situated about a mile and a 
 half out from the city. By means of Brady's pass- 
 port, which he fortunately had in his pocket, we were 
 admitted within the walls by the sentinel on guard. 
 Applying next to the pretty concierge we were by her 
 placed in charge of one of the numerous soldiers, 
 who marched us ofi" to the commanding general, who 
 furnished us with written permission to explore the 
 garrison. First we climbed to the top of the lofty 
 watch-tower, and looked down upon the spot where 
 the gallant Due D'Enghien was shot by order of 
 Napoleon. We then proceeded to the Armory, which 
 we found well stocked with all manner of warlike 
 instruments, and so arranged as to be ready at a 
 moment's warning for service. In the courtyai'd are 
 immense numbers of cannon-balls, bomb-shells, etc., 
 all neatly piled in pyramids, and ready for trans- 
 portation. Next we visited the new and elegantly- 
 arranged stables for the cavalry, containing at the 
 time four thousand steeds of war. These stables 
 were put up by Louis Philippe, just previous to his 
 expulsion from the throne of France. 
 
 We now proceeded to the Cemetere du Piepus, and 
 stood by the grave of the noble-hearted Lafa^'ette, the 
 loved and gallant champion of American independ-
 
 Memories oveu the Water. 329 
 
 ence. lie lies in the fur corner of this solitary little 
 cemetery, und the plain slab of black marble, tliat 
 rests above the breast of the hero, bears upon it no 
 vaunting inscription. Who could write the epitai»h 
 of Lafayette? By his side reposes the body of his 
 wife, and close by that of his son, George Washing- 
 ton Lafayette. Wo plucked a green leaf from a vine 
 that clambered over the -wall, to remind us in after 
 days of our visit to the grave of this matchless man. 
 lu the same burial-ground are the family vaults of 
 Montmorency, Montague, Morillon, Lorambo, etc. 
 
 A few days after, we visited the magnificent Mau- 
 soleum, then in process of erection for the reception 
 of the body of Napoleon. It is built under the dome 
 of the Hotel des Invalides. The sarcophagus will 
 be placed in the center of "the wreath of victory," 
 represented in beautiful mosaic on the floor, and, 
 ranging round, stand mournful statues of the purest 
 marble. The descent to the tomb is most imposing 
 in its gloomy, solemn grandeur. When completed, 
 this Mausoleum will surpass, in cost and magniii- 
 cence, anything of the kind in Europe. Above the 
 doorway are to be inscribed the words of the great 
 chieftain — "When I die, let rac sleep upon the 
 banks of the Seine, among the people whom I have 
 so much loved." At the time of our visit the body of 
 Napoleon was reposing in a side-chapel of the Hotel 
 des Invalides. There were at that time 3,300 of the 
 old soldiers of the Napoleonic wars in the hospital, 
 hobbling about the resting-place of their dead chieftain.
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 On the 4tli of March we took the omnibus at the 
 Place dn PaLais Royal, and paid a visit to the Cathe- 
 dral of St. Denis, situated about five miles from 
 Paris. Here repose the bodies of the former kings 
 of France — Gallia's great — her undying ones. But 
 we did not feel so enthusiastic as when, in tlie dim 
 light of Westminster, we stood above the ashes of 
 England's worthies. And yet the solitary grave of a 
 Smollet or a Keats is more apt to impress you with 
 the vanity of earthly fame, and to awaken those 
 solemn reflections which lead to a lofty and nobler 
 view of man's destiny than the somber Cathedral, 
 with its cold, damp vaults, its marble monuments, 
 and stained glass. Westminster Abbey is more fitted 
 to give the poet food for his dreams than the states- 
 man remorse for his ambition, or the historian an 
 antidote for his prejudice. The epitaph of royalty' is 
 but a poor record of truth ; the churchman's adulation 
 not unfrequently a poorer proof of goodness ; and the 
 poet's monument a miserable consolation for a life- 
 time of neglect. Still, it is something in praise of 
 mankind that Genius should be able to secure a 
 grave by the side of Royalty ; it goes too, to prove 
 
 the equality of death. Beside, it is pleasant to see old 
 ( 3:j(i )
 
 Memories over the Water. 331 
 
 rivals sleep so quietly side by side — to read over the 
 names of Elizabeth and Mary, Pitt and Fox, as 
 though they -were twin cherries — to wonder how the 
 children of song manage matters over in their depart- 
 ment ; whether Johnson finds a folio to hurl at his 
 argumentative neighbor, or Goldsmith turns his un- 
 speculative eye upon spiritualized Gamck, The tombs 
 of "Westminster are the poetry of death. The ruling 
 stars of faction have sunk into the same embrace. 
 The hostile orbs of beauty, poesy and sovereignty 
 have closed their fiery orbits in one common center. 
 Would the ashes of Byron, every stranger will in- 
 quire, disturb this heavenly repose ? Would it startle 
 the Regent from his cofiincd propriety, or taint the or- 
 thodox atmosphere of Southey ? Yet here sleeps War- 
 ren Hastings, near the scene of his political apotheosis ; 
 and there lie Burke and Sheridan, the consumers of 
 his glory. The sensual and the immoral, the vicious 
 and the vain, the tyrant, the usurper, and the mur- 
 derer — all find place ; but there is no room for Byron ! 
 In the gloom of the Cathedral's heavy arches 
 there is something exceedingly solemn and beautiful. 
 There is a mystic power, a voiceless religion in its 
 vacant stalls and knightly banners, filled with the 
 dust of centuries, and untouched by the breezes of 
 Heaven. Time stands like a stoled priest at its 
 altar, and the beings of the mind move noiselessly 
 over the marble floor. Around you lie the marble 
 cfiigies of buried majesty ; with here and there some 
 kneeling form, with stony hands stretched in eternal
 
 332 Memories over the AVater. 
 
 supplication. Eiide figures, with trailing garments, 
 bend life-like, in the dim, discolored light, over the 
 stiff and outstretched body of some armed warrior ; 
 and pale statues look coldly from their pedestals upon 
 your reverential homage. You stalk like an earthly 
 intruder amid the devotion of unimpassioned penitents, 
 whose vow is silence, and whose occupation prayer. 
 
 On the Gth of March we went out to look upon 
 some of the shadows of life in Paris. We crossed 
 over the Seine, and proceeded up the river as far as 
 the Institut de France. Here we turned up Kue du 
 Seine, and went on as far as Kue de Bussi. First we 
 stopped in at Ecole du Medecin, and went over the 
 fine anatomical museum. Then, a few paces farther, 
 we came to Ecole Pratique, and went over its 
 museum, which served as an excellent preparative for 
 the scenes that were to follow. Passing into the 
 courtyard, the first object that greeted our sight was 
 the dead body of a man lying perfectly nude, and 
 exposed on the cold stones, neglected and unnoticed 
 until some one should come and take him up for the 
 dissecting knife. The body lay close to the door; 
 and one of the students, finding it in his way as he 
 came out, gave the senseless corpse a kick, which 
 sent it rolling over the courtyard. This was more 
 than the humanity of our companion, old man 
 McCullough, could bear. lie said that he was sick 
 at heart to witness such barbarity, and immediately 
 retraced his steps homeward. But Brady and ourself, 
 owing, perhaps, to our less sensitive nature, passed
 
 Memories ovkr jiiI': Watkk. 333 
 
 on, to look in at tlic dissecting rooms. On each side 
 of the courtyard were ranged small, dingy buildings, 
 much resembling the Morgue, only with many win- 
 dows at their sides, that the light of Heaven might 
 peer through upon their nauseating scenes. In one 
 corner sat the somber, coffin-shaped litter, in which 
 the bodies were brought for dissection. Proceeding 
 to the larger building at the farther end of the court- 
 yard, and mounting a nan-ow flight of dirty stairs, we 
 opened the first door on our left, and entered one of 
 the largest of the dissecting rooms. Here, on the 
 many tables arranged for the purpose, lay about forty 
 bodies, around which gathered the students and pro- 
 fessors of the healing art. There stood a knot of 
 young men, attentively listening to their instructor, 
 as, with knife in hand, he was blending theory with 
 practice in demonstrating the proper method of am- 
 putating an arm. At an adjoining table sat a second 
 professor, earnestly discussing some point in anatomy, 
 over the dead body of a subject, to a handsome and 
 fash ion ably -dressed student, who nonchalantly sat on 
 the other side. We thought, as we looked on the 
 butchers of that charnel-house, with their blouses 
 smeared with the gore of the dead, and their hands 
 all red in the blood of the same, that not for the 
 wealth of Crcesus, nor the wisdom of Baron Louis, 
 would we so dabble in the corruption of humanity. 
 Let others devote themselves to the noble calling, 
 which, they say, is followed for the prolonging of life 
 and the preservation of health : if it be necessary to
 
 33-4 Memokies ovek the Watek. 
 
 undergo such scenes daily as we there witnessed, our 
 ambition is not equal to reach the goal. And yet 
 how merrily did these fellows chat over the sickening 
 corruption before them ! IIow careless did they seem, 
 and how unfeelingly did they cut away with the cold 
 steel on the bodies, all livid with the hue of death. 
 Here lay the muscular limbs of a once powerful man, 
 all mangled and bloody ; there the figure of a youth- 
 ful woman, formed in beauty's mold ; and here, on 
 this gory board, the tiny body of an infant, undergoing 
 mutilation at the hands of a student. But, hurrying 
 out from this horrible place, we sought the galleries 
 of the Louvre, to lose, amid its creations of beauty, the 
 grizzly shapes that were floating through our brain, 
 and blot out, if possible, the memory of our visit. 
 
 On the evening of the Sth of March the opera of 
 William Tell was performed at the grand French 
 Opera House. The scenic arrangement was perfect, 
 and the effect of the bold mountain scenery very 
 beautiful. The music of this opera is considered very 
 fine, and on this occasion it was well received by the 
 audience. The ballet was charming, exhibiting some 
 of the best dancing we ever saw. The house was 
 well filled, and presented a very dressy appearance. 
 In addition to all this, the Prince President made his 
 appearance in the royal box, above which were to be 
 seen the significant initials L. N. We fortunately 
 sat just opposite the daring arbitrator, and having a 
 good glass, we enjoyed an excellent view of his face 
 and person. He wore a blue dress coat, with plain
 
 Memouies ovek 'iiiK Waikk, 335 
 
 gilt buttons, and with nothing to distinguish liini as 
 the Dictator of France, save a Lroad, red sash, that 
 passed across his white vest, and disappeared under 
 the lappcl of his coat. His face wore its usual 
 abstracted expression. At times he would lean his 
 head upon the balustrade, and seem lost in revery 
 for the space of some 10 or 15 minutes. Then rousing 
 himself at some of tlie finest passages of the opera, 
 he would rise to his feet, and applaud by clapping his 
 hands. His late career had been one so full of singular 
 interest — of even dramatic romance — that we occu- 
 pied ourself most of the time in studying his striking 
 physiognomy. He could not be called a handsome 
 man, and yet he has by no means an ordinary counte- 
 nance. Its expression is considerably concealed by 
 the enormous moustache and imperial that he wears. 
 The audience took but little notice of his presence ; 
 and not one voice cried — " Vive Napoleon." "We sub- 
 sequently saw Madame Ted esco and Roger in the much 
 admired opera Le Prophete — the latter playing the part 
 of the Prophet, and the former the part of his mother. 
 The scenery was gorgeous and imposing beyond de- 
 scription ; and the famous skating scene, by the ballet 
 troupe, called forth continued applause. Madame 
 Taglioni danced, and, though then well advanced in 
 years, her performance was rapturously received. 
 
 On the 21st of March we attended a review of the 
 military, by Louis Napoleon, in the Place de la 
 CaiTOusel. The President was dressed in a militaiy 
 suit, and appeared well, mounted on his fine Arabian,
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 A VISIT to Versailles is an era in the traveler's 
 memory. A short ride on the railway will bring 
 you to the village, whence you proceed to the Palace. 
 We had, ere we saw Versailles, looked on many 
 glorious Palaces, proud triumphs of the genius of 
 architecture : but never a one had we seen, which 
 could rival in stately magnificence that majestic 
 pile — the Palace of Versailles. Much we might 
 write of this gorgeous edifice, but we know not where 
 to begin, and much less would know where to end. 
 
 But first we visited the Grande Trianon, and then 
 the gardens of the Petite Trianon. This accomplish- 
 ed we went over the Palace proper, in which, by its 
 miles of marble and of canvass, one may read the 
 history of France, ay, we might say, of the world ; 
 so extensive and so varied is the field, wherein the 
 sculptor and the painter have exercised their genius. 
 In our early boyhood, in the rude simplicity of our 
 Republican birth-land, we had often dreamed of some 
 gorgeous palace, on whose walls hung paintings that 
 poesy had breathed upon, and on whose stately stair 
 ways stood the immortal creations of the sculptor: 
 
 in whose Elysian fields were grottoes and bowers, 
 esse)
 
 Memokiks over the Water. 337 
 
 with the music of many waters murmuring from out 
 their mossy beds; while on the enchanted view re- 
 freshing fountains played and fragrant flowers fed, 
 with redolent perfume, the balmy air. And all this 
 did we look upon, as we stood amid the wealth of 
 wonders of the Versailles Palace. 
 
 But the presiding genius of this gorgeous temple is, 
 as might be expected, the Emperor Napoleon. On 
 every side you will find that marked, that bold and 
 determined face, now in the cold, white marble, and 
 now on the glowing canvass. You may pass in 
 review, step by step, the drama of his brilliant career, 
 and see him, as he looked, on each of his many battle- 
 fields, in councils of war and in treaties of peace, in 
 his bridal robes and assuming the imperial crown, in 
 his hours of triumph and on the day of his great 
 defeat, in "the pomp and circumstance" of his high 
 station and in the solitude of his exile. 
 
 "We explored the Palace, from cellar to attic, and, 
 amonof the almost interminable series of rooms, 
 passing through the private apartments of the luxu- 
 rious Louis, the Hall of the Crusades and the Sallo 
 des Empires. Among the myriad portraits of illus- 
 trious men we may mention that we saw those of 
 Washington, Jefferson, Adams, Jackson, Polk, Clay, 
 Webster, Calhoun, Jay, Jones, Hancock, and other 
 American celebrities. We may not forget either the 
 exquisitely beautiful statue of Joan of Arc, executed 
 by the daughter of Louis Philippe. 
 
 At four o'clock in the afternoon the doors of the 
 2S
 
 338 Memories over the Water. 
 
 Palace are closed upon visitors. So leaving the 
 lavish profusion of gorgeous wealth and glittering 
 magnificence, we strolled forth, hand in hand with 
 one of Albion's fairest daughters, into the warm sun- 
 shine of a cloudless heaven, wandering listlessly 
 amid the bowers and the grottoes of those fairy 
 grounds. Our gentle companion was one around 
 whom dwelt a spell of sunlight and loveliness, in 
 which we did love to linger, but which alas ! was so 
 soon to be broken. Years may roll onward, blotting 
 out with their oblivious tide many of the star-gleams 
 of the Past, yet as oft as memory shall revert to our 
 travels, in early youth, over the olden world, so oft 
 shall the recollection of her of the warm heart and 
 the bright eyes come with a rush of feeling over the 
 spirit, and — 
 
 Softly, softly, sofUy it falls, 
 The music in those fairy halls. 
 
 A visit to the old Palace of Fontainbleau will repay 
 the traveler well. It is situated about forty miles 
 from Paris, on the Lyons' Railway. A ride of about 
 two hours, over one of the best roads in the world, 
 brings you to your destination. The palace consists, 
 as usual, of a numberless suite of splendid apartments, 
 ornamented with frescoed walls and ceilings, with 
 paintings, sculpture and tapestry, with tesselated 
 floors, Sevres porcelain, and glittering chandeliers, 
 with curtains of the richest silk and embroidered 
 drapery for the couch of royalty. The small plain
 
 MEMORIIiS OVEK TIIK WaTEU. 339 
 
 table was shown us on which Napoleon signed his 
 abdication, the chair in which he sat and the bed in 
 which he slept. Having finished up the usual routine 
 of doing up a palace, we next strolled out into 
 the Jardin Anglaise, along by the margin of a fine 
 sheet of water, over whose surface royalty was wont 
 to boat it. Kext we visited the Long Vineyard, 
 and then procuring carriages we set out for a ride 
 through the famous forest. Saw the Bouquet du Roi, 
 the Two Twins, and other celebrated trees, and among 
 them one said to be nine hundred years old. These 
 specimens are regarded as mighty giants by the 
 French, but to one who has roamed the forests of the 
 far-west they appear as pigmies. Next we went to 
 the " Rock of the two Sisters," thence to Mont Ussy, 
 thence to the village hotel where we dined, and thence 
 back to Paris that night. 
 
 nOMEWAKD BOUND. 
 
 Winter had come and gone, as we loitered in the 
 gay capital of France, and now as the young flowers 
 of Spring began 'to put forth their timid faces, a 
 thought of our distant home came with such appeal- 
 ing force upon our heart, that we made instant pre- 
 paration to leave the follies and fricinations of the 
 great emporium of fashion, and seek again the quiet 
 happiness of our native shores, where we might devote 
 ourself to some useful pursuit and woo to our em- 
 brace the gentle goddess of content. The following 
 extracts from our landsman's log-bonk will show
 
 oiO Memories over the Water. 
 
 how we reached once more the shores of the Western 
 World. 
 
 Ship Gallia, Lat, 49°, 400 miles out from Havre. 
 Dead calm, Wednesday, March 31st. 
 
 Left Paris on Thursday morning last about eight 
 o'clock. Passed by Rouen and reached Havre three 
 o'clock, p. M. Had baggage put aboard the Gallia, 
 and slept that night at Wheeler's Hotel. At 11 
 o'clock next morning went aboard, and at 3 o'clock 
 in the afternoon got the vessel out of her berth, 
 unfurled sails, and glided out into the ocean. 
 A few miles from shore dropped anchor, counted 
 over steerage passengers (about 750), discharged pilot, 
 and again sped on our course. All souls counted 
 aboard the ship we number 808. Have now been 
 out five days. Fair weather and no wind. Captain 
 Richardson is a pleasant, talkative fellow, but too 
 much of the Yankee to be the model of a sailor. — 
 Our fare is most excellent, the ship clean and comfort- 
 able. Company in the first cabin, Mrs. Eve, an 
 elderly French lady, and her pretty grand-daughter, 
 Miss Amelina Poret, a resident of New York on her 
 return home from a visit to her relatives in Nor- 
 mandy; Brady, his wife, the German Doctor and 
 ourself making up the complement. Day before yes- 
 terday spoke the Witch of the Wave, 83 days out 
 from China. Her captain an old schoolmate of our 
 captain. 
 
 Ship Gallia, Lat. 47°, Lon. 25°, Tuesday, April 
 Gth, '52.
 
 Memouiks over the Watek. 341 
 
 Again another week has gone by, and still we speed 
 o'er the blue waves, the bright heaven above us, the 
 dancing billows around. Time hangs not heavily on 
 our hands, for all vestige of that malady, to which 
 the salt-water novitiate is inevitably heir, having 
 disappeared, we begin our ocean domestication, and 
 enjoy the novelties of our water-bound confinement. 
 We love to mount the tapering mast, and thence 
 look down on the broad plains of ocean,- while our 
 gallant vessel rears and plunges onward through the 
 bounding billows. More frequently however we 
 climb the riiTi^ino- as a rcfus-e from the attacks of 
 Madam B. and the bewitching Amelina. The latter 
 is an arch little mischief-maker of some seventeen 
 summers. Her naivete is really charming. The 
 emigrant passengers, down on the second deck, kept 
 up a constant series of amusements, with their songs 
 and their merry antics. They are not suffered to 
 walk our deck or enter our cabin. Who says that 
 money does not establish rank! 
 * Night before last an infant of one of the emigrants 
 died, and last night at 8 o'clock the body of the 
 little innocent was committed to the deep, while the 
 ship was careering before a strong wind, and the 
 rollinc: waves dashed hi^-h above her decks. The 
 ocean spray was its winding-sheet and the surging 
 winds a requiem song. Young pilgrim, thou hast 
 reached a better asylum than earth can give thee, 
 though Ions: shall the lone mother sorrow for her 
 precious treasure in the ocean buried.
 
 842 Memories over the "W^ater. 
 
 So far nor iceberg, nor dolphin, nor porpoise, nor 
 aught else of ocean's monsters has crossed our path- 
 way through the deep, save only one small whale, 
 that came almost within arm's reach of the ship. 
 For the last few days we have had favorable winds, 
 and hence have made considerable progress westward. 
 We have had too some stormy weather, giving us 
 a sight of Ocean in its wrath. We love, while the 
 waves roll high, and the strong wind bellows through 
 the cordage, to take our stand on deck, and clinging 
 to a rope, watch the triumphant vessel rear and 
 plunge, as if wrestling with a foe, her prow now rising 
 upright over the mad billows, and now dipping deep 
 down into the trough of the sea. 
 
 At night, as we lay us down to be " rocked to sleep 
 on the rolling deep," the thought of home and friends 
 calls up the angel of many a holy purpose, ay, and the 
 ghost of many a murdered hour. We long to spring 
 once more upon our native land, never again to leave 
 it — to lead a better and a purer life. And then there 
 will visit us too, in our waking dreams, the sweet face 
 of Albion's daughter, who perhaps at that moment 
 was breathing a holy prayer to Heaven for our own 
 safety, for so she said she would, as oft as night 
 should gather earth beneath her wings, and as oft as 
 the morning sun should fright the sable queen away 
 again. Heaven guard and bless thee, gentle one ! 
 
 Ship Gallia, Lat. 41 deg. 30 m., Lon. 61 deg. 30 ra. 
 April 18, 1852. 
 
 Hours, days and weeks wear on. Wo like tl)e
 
 Memories oyer tue "Water. 3-i3 
 
 ocean life. The sca-brceze is a perfect renovator. 
 We feel as though we were made of india rubber. "We 
 prefer the sailing vessel to the steam-ship. There is 
 poetry in being wafted by the wind over the moonlit 
 waves. This afternoon a jolly old gentleman from the 
 steerage cabin, his fair round belly with "fat capon 
 lined," dressed himself out as a coquettish old dame, 
 and making his appearance on the main deck com- 
 menced a spirited waltz to the music of the violin. 
 Seizing on a stalwart bystander he would lift him up 
 and spin him round as lightly as puss would toy with 
 the captive mouse. Finally, grabbing the "beau of 
 the steerage," the promising couple went whirling 
 round cutting all manner of light-heeled gyrations, 
 until suddenly the ship either lurching, or else the 
 ponderous petticoats interfering with the free play 
 of the fair lady's abdominal supporters, the merry 
 couple were simultaneously capsized, and the corpu- 
 lent old dame rolled over on her beam-ends, drawing 
 the steerage beau headlong in her wake.
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 CONCLUSION 
 
 On ship-board one may find ample excuse for a 
 tumble. While our vessel was wallowing heavily on 
 the banks of Newfoundland, and tables, chairs, and 
 books were playing leap-frog in the cabin, we were 
 one day clinging desperately to one end of a sofa, 
 while the pretty Miss P. was holding as for dear life 
 to the other. Suddenly our vessel gave a heavy lurch 
 to the larboard, and thump ! came our fair acquaint- 
 ance against our side. Letting go our hold on the 
 sofa, we were endeavoring to sustain the merry 
 maiden, when lurch went the ship again over to the 
 starboard, and away shot Miss P. and ourself, all 
 locked up in a bundle, over and over on the floor. 
 No lover ever strained his heart-treasure closer than 
 did we each other, as we rolled like one solid ball 
 from side to side of the cabin, she unable and we 
 unwilling to regain a footing. True to the instinct 
 of our nature we held on, and our frightened and 
 discomfited fair friend found herself an object of 
 uproarious laughter from passengers, captain, and 
 
 steward. In the hurrv of tlic moment we could not 
 ( :J44 )
 
 Memories over the Water. 345 
 
 get a fair view of our relative positions ; but our 
 photograph at that moment would doubtless exhibit 
 an amusing scene. 
 
 On the succeeding evening we had escaped the 
 heavy swell, and were moving along through com- 
 paratively calm water. Brady was out on the 
 quarter-deck, dancing with the fair heroine of the yes- 
 terday, while we were figuring out the Schottish with 
 his wife. A rivalry sprung up between the two 
 couples, as to which could bump the hardest the one 
 against the other. Several collisions had taken place, 
 but neither was recognized the conqueror. But 
 finally, having more tonnage and equally as much 
 * speed to make up our momentum, we struck our lar- 
 board-side square against the aft- quarters of our 
 adversary, and away tumbled the enemy over the 
 deck — the fair one falling keel bottom-most, and 
 Brady performing a complete somerset over her 
 rigging in most gallant style. 
 
 During our homeward trip several corrections were 
 administered to a refractory crew for drunkenness and 
 insubordination. One of the sailors, during a tight 
 blow, when hurried by the mate, drew a knife on his 
 ofiicer. For this ofiense Jack was marched aft, and 
 a pair of iron bracelets soon graced his hands. For 
 the next twenty-four hours he was placed in a cold 
 room to himself, and there suftered to lie without food 
 or water. On being released he was as tractable as 
 a lamb. 
 
 On the morning of the 20th of April, while dressing 
 29
 
 346 Memories o\Ti:R the Water. 
 
 in our stateroom, Brady came clashing down into 
 the cabin shouting — "Land, ho!" Let those who 
 have been, for many weary weeks, out upon the 
 watery waste, imagine the excitement this announce- 
 ment created. Hastily accomplishing our toilet, we 
 ascended to the quarter-deck, and there, in truth, out 
 upon our starboard, lay the dim shores of Long 
 Island. It was with mingled feelings of gratitude 
 and exulting joy that our eye ran caressingly along 
 the hills of our native coast, A fair breeze filled our 
 sails, and we were dashing right gallantly over the 
 crested waves, each moment drawing the shore 
 nearer to our eager embrace. Soon a pilot-boat was 
 observed, with her signal up, and making for our' 
 vessel. But the wind was all in our favor, and so, 
 without shortening sail, we bore right onward, as 
 though the pilot had not been seen from our deck. 
 Anon the weather grew misty, and then we held up 
 for the boat. In a short time the trim little vessel 
 came dancing around our ship, and her row-boat put 
 out with her pilot aboard. In a few moments the 
 ocean veteran, who looked as though he had stared 
 many a nor'wester out of countenance, mounted to our 
 deck. Again we were on our way, and erelong our 
 anchor plunged with joyful sound into the Empire 
 Harbor. Here we lay until the following morning, 
 when a small steamer came alongside, and attaching 
 itself to our bow, puffed and paddled away, seeming, 
 in its fussy w^ay, to rejoice at the good turn it was 
 doing us. Passing scotfrce through the Quarantine
 
 Memories over the Water. 34:7 
 
 and Custom-IIouse investigation, v?c moved on to the 
 shore, and were met by a whole fleet of skiffs, full of 
 hotel runners, etc. — those land -sharks whose occupa- 
 tion is to inveigle and plunder the unposted emigrant. 
 In a few moments after, wo stood once more upon 
 our native soil, whose happy shores were even then 
 smiling under the first kiss of the Virgin Spring. 
 With a song on her lips and a wreath on her brow, 
 she came sporting along the ocean coast from her 
 home in the South, and under her light footsteps 
 nature smiled, and young flowers awoke to life. Not 
 less joyously did our foot greet again the soil of our 
 birthland. Our wanderings were now fast drawing 
 to a close. So far we had been going with the 
 stream ; now we were to turn the prow of our little 
 bark about, and lay hold on the oars. We had been 
 only a looker-on at the battle of Hie ; now we must 
 put on our armor and mingle in the fray. 
 
 We spent several days in New York, and there met 
 many friends of old acquaintance — among them 
 
 Nannie A , of the good city Nashville, whose 
 
 familiar face awoke many a cheery memory of the 
 past. 
 
 On the morning of the 2Sth of April we were 
 aboard the cars, booked for the city of Washington. 
 Soon reached the Delaware river, a few miles above 
 Philadelphia, and there took steamer to the Quaker 
 city. Thence proceeded down the lair waters of the 
 Delaware, whose placid tide was thickly studded with
 
 34:8 Memories over the Water, 
 
 the white sails of every class of vessels, and instinct 
 with the rushing steamers. At New Castle we again 
 took the train, and crossed, in an hour and a half, the 
 little State of Delaware. Reaching the waters of the 
 Chesapeake we went aboard the steamer, and arrived 
 at Baltimore at ten o'clock that night. At eleven 
 o'clock on the following morning we were in Wash- 
 ington City. Here we passed several days, and most 
 pleasantly, under the auspices of the fair daughters 
 of Major D. 
 
 On the morning of the 2d of May we took the 
 steamer down the broad-iiowing Potomac, passing in 
 fair view of Mount Yernon, and even catching a 
 glimpse of the Tomb of Washington, peering through 
 the green foliage about it. At noon we landed from 
 the steamer, and took the cars. Passed through 
 Richmond and Petersburg, Ya., and reached Weldon, 
 N. C, that night. 
 
 Here we got out, and in the old village of Mur- 
 freesboro', and on the banks of the Meherrin and the 
 Chowan, we learned the hospitality of the old North 
 State, Many were our evening rides on horseback, 
 and many a cozy hour, with our lady friends and 
 favorite poets, went magically by. But among those 
 bright-eyed ones there was a being of youth and 
 beauty, from out whose large blue orbs broke a wild 
 and spiritual light. Into the fair paradise of that 
 young heart no thought of evil passed — over the glad 
 canopy of her life no storm-cloud sent its frown.
 
 Memories over the Water. 349 
 
 From out the sweet, unbroken dream of youth she 
 had ne'er awakened. She 
 
 Dreatu'd tliat earth was bright with beauty, 
 Drcaiu'd that hearts grew never cold, 
 
 Dream'd that all were true and worthy, 
 And dreaming sought the spirit-fold. 
 
 Upon her pure and gentle dreaming, and all un- 
 known to the loved and loving ones about her, the 
 shadow of death was stealing. We have stood by 
 her side, at evening's blushing sunset, and by the 
 grave of those who had gone before her to the spirit- 
 land ; and we heard, as though it were the voice of an 
 angel, her thoughts of the life that was, aud of tho 
 life that is. At that lone spot, where weeps the wil- 
 low, she slumbers now. She bloomed awhile, like 
 some fairy lily by the shore of death's dark stream. 
 The envious current saw and bore away the jflower. 
 But the Kind Mariner looked upon the lily, tossed 
 upon the turbid tide, and taking it up transplanted it 
 to smile for ever in his garden home. 
 
 How like the dew of Ilcaven on drooping flowers — 
 how like the sunlight on the pathway of the night- 
 traveler — is the smile of the innocent on the heart of 
 the strong. It, for a time, dispels the sad contempla- 
 tion of the selfishness of earth, and lends a brighter 
 hue to life. The tear that swims in the eye of the 
 loved when the farewell is spoken — the voice that 
 trembles in the fond adieu — the light that breaks out 
 from the heart at the return — are all heart treasures
 
 350 Memories over the Water. 
 
 that memory stores away. They are like sweet stars 
 that shine through the mist of the past — like bright 
 angels that stand upon the shores of the future, and 
 beckon us on to the heavenly hills. 
 
 But our farewell is said, and our flag is up for Ten- 
 nessee. Jumping into the baggage-wagon with our 
 
 friend Tom W , we rattled away to Boykin's 
 
 Depot, there to await the express train. The waving 
 of the red flag, as it comes thundering on, causes the 
 breakers to he put hard down. Bidding friend Tom 
 adieu, we jumped aboard, and soon after were on 
 the Southern road down to Wilmington. There got 
 aboard an ocean steamer and ran down to Charleston. 
 Immediately after took the cars for Chattanooga, and 
 reached the borders of our native State about five 
 o'clock in the afternoon. Got into the stage-coach 
 and crossed the Cumberland Mountains by night, and 
 in the midst of a heavy thunder-storm. Arrived at 
 the Winchester Depot at ten o'clock on Friday. At 
 three o'clock, p. m., took the train, and at nightfall 
 we were in Nashville. 
 
 And here the curtain falls upon our travels. The 
 ruling desire of our heart had been, from earliest 
 youth, to cross the big waters and look on foreign 
 lands. That desire had been gratified, and we re- 
 turned to our home, having learned to love and 
 appreciate the more our native land. We had ling- 
 ered in the capitals of England and of France — in the 
 homes of the Saxon and the Gaul. We had mingled 
 with the German of the North and the Hungarian of
 
 Memories over the Water. 351 
 
 tne East. Wc had floated on the waters of the Rhine, 
 and looked, with almost holy reverence, on its ivy- 
 mantled ruins. We had stood upon the woody Lrows 
 of Jura, and crossed the villa-studded Apennines. 
 Wc had climbed the snowy mantles of the Alps, and 
 boated o'er the deep-embowered lakes that lay smiling 
 at their feet. We had stood within the shadows of 
 the Coliseum, and looked down into the crater of 
 Vesuvius. We had mingled with those who had 
 their homes by the Danube and the Po, the Moldau 
 and the Iser, the Arno and the Tiber. Then west- 
 ward turned our face again, with the prayer that wo 
 might once more look upon the fresh, fair hills of our 
 distant birth-land, where our dust might mingle with 
 the soil of the free ; and where, above our simple 
 grave in the Far-Western Land, the wild flowers 
 might bloom and the summer winds blow.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 ^ REC'D LDUffi 
 
 ?r 
 
 Form L9 — 15m-10,'48(Bl039)444 
 
 UNIVERSITY 01 UAi^it* uiiwaa 
 
 AT 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 TJRRARY
 
 0919 L'nrr^y - 
 
 m 
 
 ^31-ri 
 
 Ldemories over 
 t-hn -Abater. 
 
 D919 
 
 M31ra 
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY