J , \. '-ISSfc ^\ l Wm : .j*\l '»9K*° . 4> ^f % d£^V ^ d 'Jk " ? isms** **# :«. "ov* :£ v,^a_ o^,^-^>o a^.a. y.. <§aajin*-. * -r» Pencil Sketches, or Europe as I Saw It By MRS. S. H. HERRIMAN. ILLUSTRATED BY : JESSIE PER I.EE BARRICK. THE WHITWORTH BROS. CO., CLEVELAND, OHIO. 1902. CONGRESS, ".' LOEIVED «/ XXc. No 3> & la M- / COPY 8. COPYRIGHT 1902. By MRS. S. H. HERRIMAN. All Rights Reserved. XV 1 r! TO MY HUSBAND AND DAUGHTER LUCILE, THESE PAGES ARE AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. PREFACE. While traveling in Europe, I kept a journal of each day's doings, sending home every week from twenty to forty pages. This was written early in the morning, late at night, between courses at dinner, on boats, on the cars, in railroad stations, in catacombs, in dungeons, among ruins, in palaces and on mountain tops. After returning home, at the request of my husband, I gathered these frag- ments together and rewrote them, but with no thought of publication. The earnest solicitations of my friends led me to think that what has afforded me so much delight and profit, might possibly give pleasure to others; hence this humble volume. I am greatly indebted to Jessie Per Lee Barrick, whose beautiful etchings have made this book much more attrac- tive than it otherwise would have been. Also to Thos. Cook & Son, for plates loaned. If by these pages I arouse a desire in any one to visit the places mentioned, or have made plainer any of the customs of the countries traveled through, I will have achieved more than I could have justly hoped. Frances Sampson Herriman. Contents. Page. Chapter 1 15 Off for Europe. Chapter II 22 Sunday on Shipboard — Ocean Scenes. Chapter III 28 Our First Day in England. Chapter IV 33 London From the Top of an Omnibus. Chapter V 3 8 St. Paul's Church— London Tower— British Museum — The National Gallery. Chapter VI 45 From London to Paris. Chapter VII 49 Lost in a Foreign City. Chapter VIII. 58 A Sunday in Paris. Chapter IX 64 Sight-seeing in Paris and Versailles. Chapter X 71 From Paris to Rome — Genoa — Pisa. Chapter XI 80 A Drive About Rome. Chapter XII 87 Churches of Rome. Chapter XIII 93 In Royal Halls, The King's Palace and the Vatican. CONTENTS— Continued. Page. Chapter XIV 98 The Appian Way, Catacombs and Coliseum. Chapter XV 108 A Morning in Naples, Pompeii. Chapter XVI 116 Vesuvius, From Naples to Florence. Chapter XVII 124 Florence, Across the Apennines, A night in Venice. Chapter XVIII 132 Shops, Doge's Palace, St. Mark's Chapter XIX 136 A Ride on the Grand Canal. Chapter XX 139 An Evening in a Gondola. Chapter XXI 142 Milan Cathedral, Lombard y and the Alps. Chapter XXII 147 Lucerne — The Lake and City. Chapter XXIII 152 The Glacier Garden, A Restful Villa, On to Mayence. Chapter XXIV 160 The Rhine and its Legends. Chapter XXV 173 Cologne, Back to London. Chapter XXVI 179 Westminster Abbey. Chapter XXVII 184 London Shops, Homeward Bound. Pencil Sketches, or Europe as I Saw it. CHAPTER I. Off for Europe. T LAST, after childhood's dreams, young woman- hood's passion, and maturer thought and longing, I have found it possible to carry out my long cherished desire, "a trip to Europe." It is now settled that I am really to go ; and my daughter Veiva is to accompany me. Our stateroom is engaged on the St. Louis, which is to sail from New York July 4th, 1900. Though it is onlv the first of February, we feel that the time is all too short to prepare for such a trip. I do not refer to bodily needs, but our knowledge of the history of those countries we are to visit must be refreshed and broadened. We must become more familiar with the different styles of PENCIL SKETCHES, architecture and the period to which they belong, to say nothing of the history of art and artists of the old world. We recall the subject of many a discussion at school, "whether there is more enjoyment in anticipation or reali- zation/' and wonder which will win in our case. Truly, the anticipation of these months affords us great pleasure, but we hope for more substantial enjoyment in the partici- pation of those that are to come. The months have dwindled into weeks, and the weeks into days, and now the time has come for us to start on our journey. Our only regret is that we must leave those that are dear to us behind. Our suit cases are packed ; we are not to be encumbered with much luggage. Our good- byes are said, and in company with two lady friends, who are to travel with us, and daughter Lucile, who is to accompany us as far as New York, we start for our summer picnic, July 2nd. Our journey to New York is very pleasant, though uneventful. Indeed our minds are so full of the wonders we anticipate seeing across the ocean that ordinary things impress us as small and commonplace. We are to spend the night before sailing with Mr. and Mrs. Myers, at East Orange, friends of long standing, and Lucile ifc to be made happy all summer by their kindness and generosity. 16 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. In our lives we have started for many a picnic on the Fourth of July, but never on one so stupendous. Who would not overlook a little self-consciousness and impor- tance in us, who for the first time step aboard a palatial ocean steamer? Soon, above the shouting of sailors, hissing of steam, roar and confusion, is heard the order, "Cast off." Then the revolution of the screws and the tearing of the ropes from the capstans, with such velocity that pieces fly in every direction and the souvenir hunters have the opportunity to lay away their first treas- ures — bits of rope folded in tissue paper. We try to get a position where we can see our friends, but fail, so we wave Our handkerchiefs at the crowd as we pull away from the shore and sail down the beautiful harbor. Then I turn and, with the capstan for a desk, pen goodbyes to several distant friends. Soon the mail is distributed, but there is nothing for me. Of course I am disappointed. Before we realize it, we have passed the Statue of Liberty and are out through the Narrows. With shouts and wavings from two or three pleasure boats, we are off for the Old World. We spend the forenoon promenading through this floating palace, which is to be our home for one week, at least, and getting settled in our stateroom. Very soon after starting, our traveling companions realize their 17 PENCIL SKETCHES, expectations. One is seasick, and the other is both sea- sick and homesick. We laugh, of course; not because they are sick, but because we are well and ready for our first meal, which nearly every one makes a rush for, as though they had been fasting for a week. Americans can not forget in one day what has been instilled into them by precept and example all their lives ; so they bolt their dinner as though business were urgent and they have not the whole afternoon to walk the deck and breathe in the invigorating salt sea air, which is to quiet and soothe their overstrung nerves. As I sit in my steamer chair I can feel the "tired" slipping away and a careless, pleasant sensation taking possession of me. Oh! the ocean is beautiful, ever changing — just enough swell to be delightful. To-night we see our first sunset on the ocean. We go aft and stand and look at the sky, then down to the water, churned by the immense screws to snowy whiteness and glinted by the last rays of the sun as it drops into a bed of clouds, which it has already painted with its most brilliant tints. It is so beautiful that it would be very easy for one's eyes to add another drop to the briny deep. Just now some one is playing "Narcissus," and it sounds like home. The evening is warm, and the beautiful moonlight tempts us to 18 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. stay out on deck until late; but when we do retire to our berths we find them comfortable, although we have the feeling that we are laying ourselves away in large bureau drawers. After a good night's rest, I will not say we are, but I am up, for a walk on deck before breakfast. These morn- ing walks are very interesting; for the second day on ship- board one is supposed to have at least a speaking acquaint- ance with every one else. There are no introductions, but you just talk to every one. Some, even this early, are playing shuffleboard or quoits, the two games furnished by the steamship company. A few of the sick ones have crawled out, and wrapped in their blankets, are curled up in chairs, dismally eating their biscuit and coffee and look- in 2f wretched ; while others, with their heads over the boat's rail are gazing down into the sea with that look of despair which only a seasick person can have. We tell them we are sorry, and advise them to try and think of something else. It is so easy to give advice, you know. We that are well eat five times a day and sometimes between times. Breakfast at 8 a. m. ; bouillon and sea biscuit at 1 1 a. m. ; lunch at I p. m. ; dinner at 6 and tea at 9 p. m. We are finding, as one may always do if he looks, really congenial companions. It seems the most natural 19 PENCIL SKETCHES, thing that we should form into little companies and discuss ways and means of travel and sightseeing. These things seem uppermost in the thoughts of each one. There are some, of course, who would not feel at home, or that they were doing their duty, unless they burdened themselves with the affairs of the whole party. They even have mar- riages taking place on shipboard, between parties who have lived together in wedded bliss for months and, perhaps, years. Happy must be that couple who, having their ten year old son at home, are mistaken for bride and groom of but a day. There are about fifteen hundred souls on board, including the crew, six hundred of them being steerage passengers. Among them are quite a number of Christian Endeavorers who were to have sailed on the ill-fated boats that were burned at Hoboken July 1st. Though their tables are spread with white linen, and their food looks clean, I think a refined person would have to be endowed with a great deal of courage to undertake the trip with their surroundings. But though there be steerage, second cabin and first cabin passengers on board, there is one thing that shows our common humanity. When, in the evening they gather on the lower deck and sing, it becomes contagious, and the passengers from all parts of the boat come to the 20 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. same side and join with them in singing, from the jolly college songs to "Nearer My God to Thee," and we feel that we all meet on a plane of equality, and are dependent for care and protection on the same Divine Being. PENCIL SKETCHES, CHAPTER II. Sunday on Shipboard, Ocean Scenes. MOST delightful surprise comes to me on Sab- bath morning. The stewardess hands me a letter. Think of it! Sabbath morning and in mid- ocean! I wave it and call out, "A letter from home!" The expressions on the different faces, and the ques- tions, "Where did you get it?" "How did you get it?" showed I was not the only one surprised. It had been miscarried ; and I am glad it was, for how much more I appreciate it now, when so far away. One can have a choice of service to-day. A Catholic priest says mass in the ladies' cabin at 7 a. m. ; in the second salon a Methodist minister preaches both morning and evening, and in the first salon the Episcopal service is conducted by the ship's purser. The pipe organ is very good, and is well played by one of the crew. They utilize 22 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. their men, making them do double duty. All the services are well attended, and why not? There are no ball games, no century runs to be made on wheels, no accounts to be balanced, no business letters to be received and answered — nothing to attract people from giving at least one hour of the day to religious services. There are quite a number of ministers on board, and one of the sailors told us they always expected a stormy voyage when that was the case. But it does not come, for each day seems more beautiful than the one before. There is so much to interest one all the time. If it were only to watch the ever-changing sky and water, it would not be monotonous to me. But there are the birds, ''Mother Carey's chickens," which follow us, picking up the refuse thrown into the water. They fly here and there, backward and forward, but always keeping near the ship. There are, also, the porpoises, which fly from the tops of the waves in such large numbers, and occasionally a shark or whale is seen, to say nothing of the ships that we pass near enough to signal. It is wonderful how much excitement there is when there is the least bit of life to be seen. Some- times in the evening, the young people gather on the deck and dance, but it looks as though it were rather hard for them to make believe they enjoy it ; for most of the time, 23 PENCIL SKETCHES, the boat rolls so it is as much as one can do to walk grace- fully, to say nothing of dancing. The St. Louis is not making as good time as usual, this trip, so we shall land one day late at Southampton. To-morrow we are to sight land, and a feeling of sadness comes over us as we think of breaking up the home to go our several ways. Some of our new-found friends we love, and hope our paths may often cross each other in the future. To the dear old ship, and the brave sailors and stewards, who lead such hard lives that it may be possible for us to enjoy these privileges — to them all we will be sorry to say good-bye. Another beautiful sunset is ours to enjoy; in which we trace castles, rivers, forest and field, all in gold. To these we must say a last good-bye, for to us there can never be another voyage like this. One more evening of song in the entrancing light of the glorious moon, which we have overtaken each night and found located in the same place. We think of our friends at home, and know to them it is becoming an old moon, but to us she shows her beaming face each evening at the same hour. As we go on deck in the morning we realize that our last day on the water is to be one of our most interesting days. Everyone is busy and animated. The immense 24 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. stacks of mail on deck help us to form some idea of Uncle Sam's work in his postal department. We must also watch the sailors taking the soundings, 130 fathoms deep, and the hauling in of the log, which takes six strong men. We expect to see something large and cumbrous, but soon what looks like a little bird flitting over the waves appears, and when it is drawn up on deck, we see only a brass rod about twelve inches long, with several little brass wings attached to it. We realize that land is not far away, for thous- ands of sea gulls fill the air around us. It looks like a beautiful snow storm. Their white bodies gleaming in the sun, as they poise in air and then float down to the water and disappear as though they melted and became a part of it. Our cases are packed, ready for inspection, and we feel that every moment on deck is precious. Soon the limestone banks of England appear. We near Wizzard's Point, crowned with its twin lighthouses, and think we see our first castle, but, like most of our castles, it is not what it seems. When we come near enough to shore to get a glimpse of the white farm houses and emerald fields, divided by the hedgerows and stone walls, we are charmed with the view, and know we shall enjoy England. We pass the Isle of Wight in the early evening and reach Southampton at midnight. 25 4 -~ / J PENCIL SKETCHES, Our voyage has been a delightful one, and we have enjoyed every moment of it. It has given an ideal op- portunity to study character. The crank, the bad man, the young girl without companion, for whom we are anxious, are all here, as well as the grumbler, who complains that the voyage is too long, the weather is too warm, the food does not suit ; in fact if he ever gets back home, you'll never catch him on the ocean again. Then there is the dude, who imagines that all the young ladies are dying for just one look or word from him, and he struts the deck with painful self-consciousness. One of the most unique characters with us is an old Frenchman, who is going to Paris to visit a young gentleman friend of his, who has been studying art there for a number of years. He dresses very gaily, in pink shirts, bright colored vests and red ties. He says he leads the fashion for gentlemen of quality in New York. He reads his love letters to some of the young ladies, and tells them how he loved his wife at eighteen, and now, at seventy, true to all Frenchmen's ideas, he loves her still. One family in particular I shall always think of with great pleasure, Professor and Mrs. Wicks and son, of Chicago. There seemed to be a bond of sym- pathy between us. There were times when we stood to- gether and looked out over the vast expanse of water at 26 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. the beautifully tinted sky, and spoke of God's greatness and goodness, and at such times it seemed as though we had already seen about all our feelings could bear. I must not neglect to speak of one celebrated person- age who boarded the St. Louis at New York. He came si- lently and unseen, but with his wiles he is influencing lives in this company in such a way that the mischief may never be undone. For fear some may not recognize this char- acter, never having had their hearts pierced by one of his missiles, I will inscribe his name in full, Cupid. 27 PENCIL SKETCHES, CHAPTER III. Our First Day in England. E LAND at Southampton at 6 a. m., July 12th, one whole day late, but we step on foreign soil and are happy. People and things look strange to us. The policemen, or "bobbies," as they are called here, dressed in short skirts and with queer little caps hung on the right ear and strapped under the chin, do not make the fine appearance that the men of that order do in American cities. The funny little engines and cars look like toys. Someone sug- gests taking one home for a souvenir. The cars, like most of those throughout Europe, are divided into compartments holding eight persons each, four riding forward and four backward, facing each other. The seats are nicely uphol- stered almost to the ceiling, and so arranged that the arms of the seats fold back, making them like large couches. We step into our little room, the door is shut and locked, and with a little toot, toot, from the toy engine we are off for 28 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. London, not to be disturbed until we reach there, when our tickets are taken. The cars run so smoothly we can con- verse without effort, and we like them. Soon we are riding through beautiful rural Eng- land. The houses are mostly of brick or stone. We see the tiny thatched roof cottage nestling among the trees, then the shady lane leading up to the more imposing dwelling on the estate of some English ^ gentleman. The fields are divided by beautifully clipped v hedge rows, in which the red poppy shows its blushing face in such profusion that it looks like splashes of blood. We catch a glimpse of an old ruined cathedral, overgrown with ivy, and are reminded that we are in a country that / was hoary with age long before our own land was discov- ered. The chimneys of the houses have from one to a dozen chimney pots, large tiles, upon them. When we ride above the house tops as we approach London by the elevated road, we look down on a perfect forest of them. We know we are in the wealthiest and most populous city in the world, and find it difficult to curb our impatience while we go through with the details of attending to bag- gage and settling ourselves in our hotel ; and last, but not least, getting our money changed and becoming acquainted with it. Our morning ride from Southampton has given 29 PENCIL SKETCHES, us a desire to see more of the country, so before we start out to do London, we will spend one day, at least, away from the noise and confusion of the city. Then, too, we want to get accustomed to walking on the earth again ; for, unlike the ship's deck, it does not rise halfway to meet us, but we feel as though we are stepping off some high place in the dark. We take the car at Chelsea station and enjoy the pleasant ride to Sydenham, where stands the Crystal Palace. It is constructed of the materials of the building that housed the great exhibition of 1851, in Hyde Park, at a cost of £1,000,000 sterling. It is entirely of glass and iron. The immense water towers at either end add greatly to its architectural beauty. The view from the palace is said to be one of the most beautiful in Great Britain, or, perhaps, in the world, taking into consideration the imme- diate surroundings. The gardens are most delightful, there being beautiful walks, serpentine streams, statues, fountains and lawns, rendering them unsurpassable. There is a portion of the building appropriated to tropical trees and plants ; to casts of Egyptian, Greek and Roman sculpture; to courts of Assyria, Alhambra, Germany and Italy. Reproductions of the masterpieces of the great sculptors of both ancient and modern times, we see here. 30 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. Then we turn from all this art and wander through the gardens, and admire the flowers, for they are just in their prime. Such roses we have never seen before. There are no signs "keep off the grass," so we seat ourselves on a high mound, where we can look down into an open field and see the English gentlemen seated so gracefully on their beautiful horses, playing polo, the horses seeming to enjoy it as well as their riders. The declining sun warns us that the day is drawing near its close, and although this is our first day in Europe, we have learned that dinner is not served from seven to nine o'clock, but at seven. Guests are requested to be prompt, so we return to our hotel, "The Salisbury," where we do full justice to our first dinner in a foreign land and pronounce it excellent. We notice the absence of butter, also tea and coffee. Of course, one may have them by paying extra, but we want to live, for the time, just as near as possible like the people in the countries we visit. There are three questions we have already decided: First, however unpleasant the circumstances, if they cannot be changed, to make the best and most of them, and not let the annoyance detract from the enjoyment of more import- ant things. Second, never to hesitate to show our ignor- ance, if by so doing we can gain knowledge. We find we 3i PENCIL SKETCHES, have ample opportunity along this line. And lastly, all those little vexatious, annoying, unexpected predicaments that come to most travelers, to try, at least, to treat as jokes. The future only can tell how well we succeed. In the evening a young gentleman from home, who has been spending some time in Paris, calls to see us. We think it very pleasant to have a neighbor to welcome us in this distant city. 32 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. CHAPTER IV. London from the Top of an Omnibus. E HAVE read that one ought to view the exterior of London first, and enjoy the differ- ent styles of architecture. With a gay party we start for Ludgate Circus, where begins our first experience in seeing London from the top of an omnibus. The London omnibus is a study in itself. It looks like a small house on wheels and is literally cov- ered with advertisements, from "Mellens Food" to the latest prima donna who will appear at Drury Lane theater. There are winding stairs at the rear, which one must learn to ascend or descend while the driver is lashing his horses and they are doing their best. They only stop long enough for one to step on or off, as the case may be. But when we are once seated on top near the driver, and get accus- tomed to the swinging and swaying of the ponderous vehicle, which just misses crashing into another by a hair's breadth, we can see much more and get more information 33 PENCIL SKETCHES, than down on the earth, where people are walking or driving; especially if the driver's memory be refreshed by a small fee. Leaving Ludgate Circus, a few minutes' ride brings us into St. Paul's church-yard, with the cathedral on our right and the postoffice on our left. St. Paul's church, Christopher Wren's masterpiece, is remarkable for its massive simplicity and beautiful proportions. The front to the west, consists of a double row of Corinthian pillars, flanked by towers of great height, and the trancepts are bounded by semi-circular rows of Corinthian pillars. We are told that the wall at the base is eighteen feet thick. As we ride through Cheapside, we notice Bow church, another of Wren's best works. Through Poultry street to the great financial center, we notice the names of the differ- ent streets — Threadneedle, Bread, etc. They sound very strange to us. In the early days of the town, special articles were sold on certain streets, hence the name. We are now in the busiest part of London, and we view with admiration the beautiful architecture of the Bank of Eng- land, and the Royal Exchange, in front of which stands an equestrian statue of the Duke of Wellington. We next go down King William street to London Bridge, passing in view of the splendid monument erected to commemorate 34 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. the great fire. There were so many suicides committed by people jumping from the top of the tower that there has been a high railing placed around it. London Bridge is one of the greatest sights of the city, especially between the hours of nine and eleven m the forenoon. In the vicinity, hundreds of steamers are unloading their living freight for the city, amidst a fearful clamor of bells, steam whistles and shouting cabmen and omnibus drivers, while the bridge itself is a perfect maze of moving vehicles and foot passengers. It is estimated that more than twenty-two thousand vehicles, and one hundred and ten thousand pedestrians cross this bridge daily. On our left is Billingsgate, the famous fish market ; then the Custom House, with its imposing front, and farther on, the wonderful new Tower Bridge, which is ranked as one of the triumphs of the century. This bridge consists of twin draw-bridges, which are raised by hydraulic machinery with the greatest ease, to let vessels pass through. Above is a permanent footway. The huge Gothic towers on either side contain elevators, so that when the bridge is opened it does not retard the stream of people that constantly surge and jostle one another as they go on, each intent on what life has for him. We return by Blackfriar's Bridge, along the Thames embankment to the Houses of Parliament. One of the 35 PENCIL SKETCHES, towers is pointed out as containing the robing room of the queen. Westminster Hall, the Law courts, and West- minster Abbey, are also observed. Here we see the finest edifices, from an architectural point of view. In Whitehall street is the old banqueting hall in front of which Charles I. was beheaded. We ride through Pall Mall, the great club and social centre of London. St. James street leads past the palace of the same name and Marlborough House, to Buckingham Palace, the winter home of Queen Victoria. It is a grand old building, partly hidden from view by the mammoth trees. There are flowers everywhere in Eng- land, from the palace gardens to the little window gardens in the dwellings of the poor; for they seem to grow spon- taneously. Coming to Hyde Park, with its fine triple entrance, near by we see Aspley House, presented by the Government to the Duke of Wellington, and next to it is the residence of Baron Rothschild. We return by the way of Piccadilly and Regent street, the fashionable shopping district, to Trafalgar Square, the finest open space in London. In the center are granite fountains. At the west end is the National Gallery, built in Grecian style. In this square, among other monuments, is the Nelson Column, in bronze, one hundred and forty 36 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. feet high, at the base of which are four huge lions, the work of Landseer. We then pass through Charing Cross, along the Strand into Fleet street. It is the time in the afternoon when the streets are thronged with carriages. We enjoy looking at the costumes, for the ladies' dresses for street wear are much more showy than in our cities. They look very fine in their little hansoms. I think the people enjoy looking at us too, for when we alight at Ludgate Circus, we have quite an audience. The paving is very smooth and we have enjoyed the omnibus ride, although at first we thought the driver did not understand his business, as he always turned to the left on meeting another vehicle. We are not disappointed in London. Her buildings are grand, her people courteous, and we know we shall enjoy our stay here. 37 PENCIL SKETCHES, CHAPTER V. St. Paul's Church, London Tower, British Museum, National Gallery. IE WING London from the exterior has not les- sened our desire to peer into the mysteries of her old and historical buildings. On our way to London Tower we stop and view the interior of St. Paul's Church. "This is the grandest building in London," our guide tells us. One architect and one master mason spent thirty-five years on this building, under one bishop. There is now being put in a beautiful mosaic frieze, that it may be full of color, as Wren, the architect, desired. His body, among those of many other noted persons, rests in the crypt of this wonderful monument. The Duke of Wellington's funeral car, made of iron from the cannon which were taken in battle by him, is also here. The choir is extremely 38 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. beautiful in its rich carvings. The great organ is in two parts, one on either side. The many marble columns with the subdued light which niters through the colored windows resting upon them, give us a remarkably fine impression as we enter. We have the authority of Shakespeare, that the London Tower was at least begun by Julius Caesar. Prince Edward says, "I do not like the tower of any place. Did Julius Caesar build that place, my lord?" Gloster. — He did, my gra- cious lord, begin that place, which succeeding ages have re-edified. Prince. — Is it on record, or else repeated successively from age to age, he built it? Buckingham. — Upon record, my gracious lord. This fortress is situated in the extreme eastern part of the city, and is separated from it by Tower Hill. It covers about twelve acres of ground. It is sur- rounded by a moat, which is now used as a garden. On the river side is "Traitors' Gate," through which persons of state entered the Tower, being brought here in boats. This structure is made up of many buildings, including the c[l;E' ITf) i 39 PENCIL SKETCHES, Barracks, Armory, Jewel House, White Tower, the Bloody Tower, where Richard III. murdered his nephews; the Bowyer Tower, where the Duke of Clarence was drowned in a butt of Malmsey, and the Brick Tower, where Lady Jane Gray was imprisoned. It has been used as a residence for the monarchs of England, and many are the kings, queens, warriors and statesmen who have not only been imprisoned, but murdered within its walls. The Horse Armory is an extensive gallery containing a fine collection of armor used from the 13th to the 18th century. Some of these are extremely rich and beautiful. From here we are conducted into Queen Elizabeth's Armory, which is filled with arms and relics. It is located in the walls of the White Tower, which are fifteen feet thick. We stop for a few minutes in the room where Sir Walter Raleigh was confined. Also where Lord Guilford Dudley, the husband of Lady Jane Gray, was confined, in Beauchamp Tower, the walls of which are covered with inscriptions by former prisoners, among them being the names of several members of the Dudley family. The block on which Lord Lovet was beheaded, and many ancient instruments of torture, we look upon with horror. On the way to the Jewel House are some interesting specimens of ancient cannon. The Jewel House contains 40 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. all the crown jewels of England. They are in an immense glass case. Prominent among them is the crown made for the coronation of Queen Victoria, at an expense of about $600,000. Among a profusion of diamonds is the large ruby worn by the Black Prince. Among the royal plate, the silver baptismal font, from which the children of royalty are baptized, is conspicuous. We stopped in front of the Barracks, where the soldiers were drilling, and notic- ing that some of them carried their knapsacks, we were informed that for some misdemeanor they were obliged to carry that burden as a punishment. The gates are guarded as of old, by the beef-eaters in their ancient looking costumes of red and black; for they still wear the same kind of uniform that the guards did centuries ago, when the youthful couple, Lord Dudley and Lady Jane Gray, suffered death on the scaffold, neither of them being over seventeen years of age. As Lady Jane sat at her window, where she could look out on the place where the scaffold stood, she sent this message to her husband : ''Our separation will be but for a moment ; we shall soon meet each other in a place where misfortunes will never more disturb our eternal felicity." As one approaches the British Museum, he is impressed by the magnificence of this Grecian structure. It has a 4i PENCIL SKETCHES, ?=\> frontage of three hundred and seventy feet, with a col- onnade of forty-four Ionic columns. The library is in the center, containing one million, eight hundred thousand books, which occupy forty miles of shelving. The reading room is magnificent, is surmounted by a dome larger than that of St. Peter's Church at Rome, and has accommodations for five hundred readers, each having a desk. In one of the halls devoted to Egyptian antiqui- ties is the celebrated Rosetta stone, which furnished Dr. Young the clew for deciphering the Egyptian hiero- glyphics. The inscription is three times repeated, in Greek, Demotic and hieroglyphic. The stone is three feet long, two feet broad, and ten inches thick. It was found near the Rosetta mouth of the river Nile. There are many rare specimens of Egyptian sculpture, and mummies with their coffins covered with pictures telling the history of the occu- pants, dating back more than sixteen centuries before Christ. In the sculpture gallery is a valuable collection of ancient sculpture, mostly original specimens from all parts of the old world. Especially interesting are the remains of the original Parthenon, at Rome, consisting of the statues 42 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. and columns; also the remains of the Temple of Minerva, and a large statue of the goddess holding the reins of two mammoth horses. This statue is said to be the largest in existence. In another hall is a fine collection of coins, vases and miniature carvings. One piece not more than two and one half inches square when opened, contained scenes of the crucifixion so perfect in the minutest detail that the muscles of the soldiers' arms and hands and the trappings of the horses are fully distinct. A rosary bead when opened disclosed marvelous carvings of bible scenes. The price- less possessions of this museum might afford food for a life's study. The National Gallery is also Grecian in architecture. It contains about fifteen hundred choice paintings, many being works of the old masters. Some of them were espe- cially interesting: DeVinci's Virgin, with the holy children, attended by an angel ; Raphael's Madonna ; Mur- rillo's Virgin ; Van Dyck's Old Man ; Visions of a Knight, by Raphael. The Brook, by Gainsborough, is beautiful. We fancy we hear the gurgle and purling as the limpid water goes rippling over the pebbles. Landseer's animal pictures are fascinating. He had a rare power of rendering tex- tures. He seemed to depict with perfect ease feathers, hair, horn ; in fact every texture of animal life. His 43 PENCIL SKETCHES, paintings, Shoeing, Dignity and Impudence, A Dis- tinguished Member of the Humane Society, and many others are simply charming. The evening has come for us to leave England for a time, but we shall look forward with pleasure to our return visit. After dinner, in the private dining-room where our party, numbering about forty, is served, the U. S. flag is suspended from the chandelier in the center of the room. Of course, we all applaud, then the British flag is hung beside it. More applause. It shows to us the kindly feeling this great nation sustains for our own equally great nation, and is a beautiful God-speed to our company. 44 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. CHAPTER VI. From London to Paris. HE scene in a London railroad station is inde- scribable. There is very poor, if any, system for taking care of baggage. Each person seems to be obliged to look out for his own. Every package except what you carry in your hands must be weighed; and the din of hundreds of people shouting and screaming, as they rush hither and thither, is bewild- ering. Seated on our suit cases, happy in the thought that these are all we possess, we write cards to our home friends before starting for Paris. On reaching New Haven, we are fortunate in getting bunks on the channel steamer. Many are obliged to stay out on deck all night. The trip is without incident or accident, though we are told in the morning that our boat just escaped a collision with another boat in the night. 45 PENCIL SKETCHES, We are on deck early for we are to land in Dieppe at 5 a. m. The first object that meets the eye is a large cross, and we realize we are to enter a country where Catholicism holds sway. Dieppe is a quaint old town, and we would like to explore some of its many mysteries, but that is not for us to do. We go directly from the boat to the cars, and after waiting long enough to be visited by a score of French beggars, who are as persistent as they are polite, we go forward for a little way, then backward, then we go in a circle until we don't know which way we are headed. Now for the first time we fully realize that we are in a foreign country ; for from this time we converse with the people under difficulties, not understanding their language, with the exception of a few words, which prove to be invaluable. The morning ride from Dieppe to Paris is certainly delightful. It is through a beautiful farming country, with high hills rising on either side some of the way, cov- ered with many colored grains so planted that they give a very pleasing effect — reminding one of his grandmother's rag carpet. At times w r e ride for long distances near the river Seine. But whether we look on river or hill, in the morning light of this perfect day, the scene is charming. Arriving at the Exposition Hotel, Paris, at ten o'clock, we breakfast and are shown to our rooms. They are on 46 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. the fourth floor and no lift, or elevator, but when we are there, and throw open the windows, and look out upon the picture spread before us, we are paid for the climb. In front and not far from us is the Terrestrial Globe. To the left is the river Seine, with its myriads of boats passing con- stantly. Across the river are the Trocadero Hotels, and a little farther away is the Great Trocadero Palace, with the domes and towers of the Exposition buildings in the distance. We spend the remainder of the day going through the Exposition grounds and getting a general view of the buildings. While the grounds are small and somewhat crowded, when compared with our Chicago fair, the build- ings are grand in sculpture and rich in artistic effect; just what we would expect of the French people. To-day is the celebration of the storming of the Bastile, and Paris is in holiday attire. To-night there is to be a grand illumination of the whole city. The question arises, how can we best see and enjoy this splendid display? Veiva and I decide to go on one of the Seine boats, while others go in carriages and many go to bed. We are located at the extreme west side of the citv, and the river 47 PENCIL SKETCHES, passes through the Exposition grounds for a long distance, and near it are many of the finest buildings of Paris. To- night, whichever way one looks, there flashes upon the vision the most gorgeous display of electric lights im- aginable. 4 8 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. CHAPTER VII. Lost in a Foreign City. ARLY in the evening we go to one of the little stations or landings, and seating ourselves in the bow of one of the Seine boats, we begin a never-to-be-forgotten ride. Besides the won- derful illumination of the buildings, millions of colored lights are festooned from tree to tree, which latter are literally covered with their ripened fruit of Japanese lan- terns, enticing one into imagining he is riding through orange groves. Many of the boats are gaily decorated, and as we pass them, we catch glimpses of the gay parties, dressed in beautiful costumes, who are being served by waiters clad in snowy linen. These floating banqueting halls, together with the reflections of the lights in the water, make the beauty fairly intoxicating. So much so that we ride on and 49 PENCIL SKETCHES, on, not taking note of the passing time, under a score of bridges which span the river with a single arch, looking like so many rainbows, with their numberless colored lights. The moon seems to rise up out of the water like a great ball of blood, as if to commemorate the scene that was enacted here so many years ago. But we glide on; the lights grow fewer, the water looks black, and there is darkness on the land. We think we must be near the end of the line, when the boat passes up to one of the stations and the few remaining passengers begin to go off. We think we will stay on board and return to Paris, for we know now we are far beyond the limits of the city. The conductor motions for us to go off the boat. We tell him by gestures and the few words of French we can speak, that we want to go back to "Paree." He makes us understand that there is no "batteau" (boat) going back to Paree (Paris) to-night. The French talk in such an excited way and gesticulate so vehemently, that that alone is enough to frighten one, and this conductor is no exception to the rule. I know he is trying to help us, but I helplessly put my finger to my lips and shake my head. We are both thoroughly frightened, but I say to Veiva, we must treat it as the greatest joke yet, and trust the Lord to guide us. We must not stay on the boat, so 50 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. we follow the people up the bank. It is a place where four roads meet, and several hacks are standing here; but which one to take, we do not know. Women run here and there screaming, "Place de la Bastile!" "Place de la Bastile!" They call up the passengers, while their husbands at- tend to the driving. As their shrill voices ring out on the night air they sound weird and not at all soothing to our nerves. Several people seem to realize that we are in trouble, and point one way and then another, talking all at once, just as we do in America, which only confuses us the more. A fine looking gentleman points to and helps us into a hack and passes on. Soon the people that are in it begin to climb out, and we do likewise. But when we attempt to get into the hack they do, it is already full. At last we find room in a very large vehicle with seats running lengthwise, and are actually started, but not knowing where we are going. A gentleman and lady sit opposite us, and they comprehend the fact that we are lost, and are so very kind. They talk to us in their language, and I repeat the only French sentence I am master of, "Je ne parle pas francais." A little French peddler who used to stay all night occasionally at our house when I was a girl, taught me a few sentences of French, and this one comes to my mind 5i PENCIL SKETCHES, now, as also does the memory of my dear father and mother. They never turned any one from their door, white or black, rich or poor. The little north-west bedroom up stairs was always kept ready for any homeless traveler who might come that way, and when I used to fret because mother would take in every tramp who came along, in her sweet way, she would say, " How do I know but one of my children may be far from home sometime, and need someone to care for them?" So she cast her bread upon the waters, and it has re- turned after many days. We feel reassured, so we enjoy the long ride through the beautiful boulevard. There is a feeling of safety comes to us each time we see the river, for our home while in Paris is near that river, somewhere; but, like lost children, we can tell neither our street nor number. This is our first day in Paris, and we did not expect to get lost when we left our hotel, or I should have taken a little phrase book that I brought from home for such occasions. After a long ride, the hack stops. Every one gets out and we know this must be the Place de la Bastile. We know, too, that we are far from our hotel, for neither Eiffel Tower nor the great Globe are in sight. Our friends stay by us, or we would be in a worse plight than when we left the boat. 52 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. We point to a carriage and say "cab," and they answer, "Oui, oui," (yes, yes). Then that little woman fairly flies from one carriage to another. But, no, their drivers would not go. It was plain to be seen why. Their horses were nearly dead with fatigue. They talk a few moments together, the gentle- man stays near us, while the lady darts off in another direc- tion, and soon returns with a couple of policemen. But how are we to make them understand where we want to go? We say "L'exposition" (with a strong emphasis on the last syllable,) "Hota," and they say it over after us, and we say "Oui — oui" (yes, yes). Then they talk together, and look as though they don't know what to do with us or for us. Just here Veiva pro- duces a little slip of paper. She has always had the habit of carrying something in her hand. When she was a wee thing and had her afternoon nap, she usually managed to carry a bit of paper or string to bed with her. This slip of paper is our salvation; for on it is the address of our hotel, both in French and English. The policemen procure a carriage and instruct the driver where to take us. With very demonstrative hand- shaking and waving, we take leave of our friends, wishing 53 PENCIL SKETCHES, we might know and recompense in some way these good people, who have been so kind and helpful to us. Our ride is now a charming one, along beautiful streets almost as light as day, thronged with gay people, promenad- ing, singing, dancing and drinking until it seems as though the whole city had gone wild with pleasure. We pass through a grand square and know it must be the celebrated Place de la Concorde, where the guillotine stood at the time of the Reign of Terror ; for here on our left, is the main entrance to the Exposition, with its flaming arch. Farther on we look back through this maze of trees, fountains and monuments, spread out beneath a sky which seems to reflect each twinkling light. Then we look far, far in front of us, up the Avenue des Champs Elysees, bordered on either side with those wonderful trees for which Paris is so famous. These trees are hung with thousands of orange-colored lan- terns, and we say, truly, this must be the most beautiful city in the world. Soon we see the lights of Eiffel Tower and know we are nearing home; but after riding a long distance, we know, too, that we are being carried far beyond our hotel, which is on the opposite side of the river. We cannot shout to the driver and tell him he is going wrong, for we do not know what to say; and we do not dare pull his coat tail, 54 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. as a lady we knew of did last summer when she was here, for she loosed it from its moorings and had a good round sum to pay for damages. We console ourselves by think- ing, "This fellow does not know where to take us, or else he has some dark and evil designs, and our friends will never know what has become of us." In the midst of these pleasant meditations, he turns his horse and crosses a pont, (bridge) and drives toward our home, but suddenly stops in front of a dark, gloomy looking building, and pointing with his whip toward it, turns to us. We shake our heads and motion for him to go on, but he persists in pointing to that building and talking French. Veiva thinks it is a prison. This street is not as light as some we have been in this evening, and we do not feel exceedingly comfortable; so, to convince him, Veiva steps out of the carriage and goes to the massive iron gate and looks through. She comes back shaking her head, and motioning, with quite marked emphasis, for him to pro- ceed, which he does, and soon stops before our hotel. I have a very kindly feeling toward this cabman, and after giving him the stipulated fare, I want to give him a generous tip. When we started out for our boat ride, 1 expected it would cost us just six cents each. We hadn't planned for such an extended tour through the city, so my 55 PENCIL SKETCHES, small change is all gone. I do not distrust the fellow's honesty, but am afraid if I give him a five franc piece, he might not be able by the street lamp to see to make the right change. I have heard people say that they always got rid of the small coins they had left from one country, by using them to pay tips in the next one they went into, so I offer him several English coins. Well, for once I am glad I cannot understand French, for I am sure I should not feel flattered if I could understand the classical oration he treats us to. Just as in books, at this moment, the hotel porter comes upon the scene, and asks : "Have you paid him the regular fare?" I tell him I have, he says a few short words in French, and the cab and driver are gone. Well, we do not feel just comfortable to have even a hotel porter see us come home at such an hour, for it is not the same day we started away. We are thankful to be safe in our rooms again, and decide not to tell our experi- ence; for it might be the means of spoiling the same pleas- ure for others. So in the morning, when we are asked how we spent the evening we answer that we went on a boat down the river as far as we cared to, and came back in a 56 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. carriage through the finest streets of Paris, having a most magnificent ride. But two or three days after, when I hear some of the ladies and gentlemen telling about getting caught in the same way, I say, "Oh, that is nothing ; my daughter and I had that most delightful experience the first night we were in Paris." Now, when we hear the gentleman talking in a lofty way about seeing Paris by gas light, we look wise, but keep mum. 57 PENCIL SKETCHES, CHAPTER VIII. A Sunday in Paris. HE next morning being the Sabbath, Veiva and I start out again on one of the Seine boats, for the Church of the Madeleine. Fortunately we get on the wrong boat, where we meet an English gen- tleman and his daughter, who invite us to accompany them to Notre Dame. This is the most sumptuously ornamented church in Paris, and is more like a great museum than a place of worship. We get good seats, for which a little old woman collects ten centimes, (two cents), and enjoy the music. Afterwards we spend some time looking through the cathedral. Our new-found friends invite us to spend the afternoon with them in the Louvre Gallery, and ask if we have the nerve to visit the Morgue. After last night's exploits, we think we have nerve for almost anything. We learn from these friends, that while we were riding through Paris in 58 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. a carriage, they were wandering around on foot, lost in the slums. At the Morgue we see a ghastly sight. The bodies of persons who have been murdered or have committed suicide are brought here and placed in an immense glass case, where they are kept frozen for several days, to be identified. There are five men in the case at this time. They recline in chairs, their bodies being covered with black cloth. One middle-aged man has such a fine, scholarly face, and there are no marks of violence upon him ; while another carries the marks of blows and the blood stains as it trickled over his face. This is too terrible! We will away to more cheerful scenes. We feel the need of food, and sit down at one of the little tables on the sidewalk, which are found everywhere in Paris, and eat ; but when it comes to drinking — well, they don't drink water in Paris. So they bring us a bottle of one of their crushed strawberry effects, and it reminds us of the wine we used to make when we were children, by squeezing the juice of a few currants or cherries into a quart of water. But it is cold, and we are refreshed and ready to enjoy the most wonderful art collection in the world. The Old Louvre, which has been connected with the Tuilleries by the New Louvre, is considered, from an archi- 59 PENCIL SKETCHES, tectural point of view, to be unequaled, especially its eastern front, by any other building in the city. Its famous colon- nade, composed of twenty-eight double Corinthian columns, was erected by Louis XIV. The facade is five hundred and twenty-five feet in length. The magnificent gateway in the center, with its gates of bronze, produces a grand effect. We have a better idea of its extent when we remember that this palace covers over sixty acres of ground. We have not listened to any sermons this morning, but this afternoon we look upon and feel the impress of thought on canvas, as so vividly expressed by the old masters. We are enthusiastic over some of them, but when we stand before such paintings as "The Immaculate Conception," by Murillo, the very atmosphere about it seems sacred, and we admire it in silence. In Notre Dame we saw where Napoleon and Josephine were crowned. Here we see the wonderful painting, "The Coronation," so perfect in every detail that it seems almost as though the figures breathe. To use a slang expression, the English girl is a dandy, worth two Paris guides. She reads French, and with cata- logue in hand, she leads the way through these galleries as though she was perfectly at home here. We are glad to be led, for we never should be able to find our way through these miles of corridors. We visit the halls of sculpture, 60 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. but the place in which we linger longest is the hall of the Venus de Milo. Here that most beautiful statue stands in all its grandeur, in the center of the room, alone. The walls are draped with deep red velvet, which forms a very effec- tive background for the pure white marble. We have spent four hours most delightfully and profit- ably in this palace of art, with these charming people, ana when we separate they very cordiallv invite us to visit them at their home in Oxford, England, on our return to London. I have had a strong desire to enter an English home, and I am sure theirs is an ideal one. On our return to the hotel, as we pass through the court, we stop to speak with a group of gentlemen of our party, mostly ministers, I believe, and ask them where they have spent the day. They reply, "Right here." This reminds me of the time when a number of the ladies of our church used to meet once a week to sew rags for rugs, which we sold to help defray the church expenses. Most of us had to pay, at least, ten cents for car fare, we all took our luncheons, and the janitor used to shovel in about a half-ton of coal each day, to heat the church. Altogether, we would perhaps sew three or four pounds of rags ; for we must not cut round corners, but they must all be torn off square and sewed together, so as 61 PENCIL SKETCHES, to have the rugs nice and smooth. Well, socially it was a great success, but we did not pay expenses. Neither will these men, if they sit here and talk of what they are quite confident their wives will have for supper to-night, and get homesick, when there is so much to be seen. We saw one man who was actually so homesick that he shed tears — "out loud" too, and someone said, "That man ought never to go so far away from home without his wife and children." But we noticed after he had taken a certain young lady to the opera, a few nights later, that he was much better, if not entirely recovered. Another man, a Dr. E , who had purchased his ticket for a trip through Italy and Switzerland before leav- ing the United States, was so badly off with the same com- plaint that he offered me his ticket at a great sacrifice. I did not try to persuade him to go, nor tell him I did not take any stock in the Roman fever scare, but took his ticket, and he went back to England to bide his time of sailing, happy in the thought that he can at least understand a part of what is said to him there. After dinner, we walk over to the Eiffel Tower and go up into the sky and spend the evening enjoying the illumi- nations. The flames of light start on the buildings either side of the Champs des Mars, the palaces of Industries on 62 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. the one side, and the palaces of Chemistry, Education and Science on the other, and creep along like fiery serpents until they reach the Electricity Building, when they burst into dazzling brightness of many colored lights, so beauti- fully blended that a babel of voices cry, "Oh ! oh !" each in his own language. I have been told by those who have spent some weeks in Paris, that, although the people drink so constantly, they did not see a drunken person while there. We must be seeing the unusual, for there is a man in the tower who is as full as the glass he is trying to carry. In his zigzag course he makes directly for the desk where we sit writing, and begins talking and gesturing, also coming nearer than is pleasant. Indeed, it seems as though the man is made of rubber, the way he sways this way and that, all the time dancing a little measure with his feet to keep his equilibrium. I do not answer him in French, but I do in plain English, and he understands enough to know that we are not partic- ularly desirous of his company. The next moment he is hustled into a lift (elevator) by an officer, and "lifted" down on to the ground, where he can have more room for his gyrations. The people of Paris seem to have nothing to occupy their time but to sit in the cafes or on the sidewalk and "eat, drink and be merry." Victor Hugo must have said truly in his "Les Miserables" "To err is human, to loaf is Parisian." 63 PENCIL SKETCHES, CHAPTER IX. Sight-seeing in Paris and Versailles. ITH a four-in-hand we start out to see Paris, riding through many of its beautiful boulevards and squares. The Arc de Triomphe stands in a center from which twelve avenues radiate. It was built by Napoleon I, in the year 1806, and is the finest arch in existence. Of course we view the Grand Opera House, noted as being the largest in the world, covering an area of three acres. Perhaps it is a little overloaded with carving and sculpture. Paris has splendid churches. We especially like the Madeleine. It is of early Greek style. The carvings over the front entrance represent the "Last Judgment," and groups illustrating the ten commandments adorn the bronze doors. The interior, with its monuments, chapels, and its bas-reliefs, is indeed exquisite. Saints' Chapel, with its wonderful stained glass, and the Hall of Justice, Hotel des Invalides, Napoleon's Tomb, the palaces and monuments, 64 i kms OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. and — and — one can't write about Paris ; it is too magnifi- cent, too beautiful, too entrancing. One can only admire and enjoy. In one of the squares a woman comes along with a queer little cart, which she pushes before her. One of the party calls out, "Ice cream !" This is something we all can appreciate this warm day. In a moment's time our carriage is without an occupant, and in a few minutes more that woman has converted her stock in trade into cash. She sells her cream for ten centimes a taste, and serves those tastes on little glass dishes which have no depth, but are a delusion and a snare. No spoons are furnished, and the only way to eat this cream is to — eat it. They serve cream in very dainty quantities in this country, though I heard some say they got a very reasonable- sized dish for two hundred centimes (40 cents) at a cafe. How we have looked forward to a visit to Versailles, and now the day has come for us to realize that pleasure. The weather is perfect, the company congenial, and what a delightful drive it is ! Past lordly estates, where we catch glimpses of the beautiful grounds; but only glimpses, for they are mostly hid from view by the high walls or fences. It was over this same road that the hungry, howling, blood- thirsty mob of men and women passed on their way to Ver- 65 PENCIL SKETCHES, sailles on that terrible day when they compelled the king and queen, Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette, to return to Paris with them, to live in the Tuilleries and be tortured by insults, and at last to be taken to prison, and then to the guillotine. We halt for a little while at St. Cloud, six miles from Paris. This place has been the scene of many great events. It was here that Napoleon put himself at the head of the government. The palace destroyed in the last war was the favorite residence of Marie Antoinette ; also of Napoleon and Josephine. The marriage of Napoleon and Marie Louise took place here in 1810. Previous to the reign of Louis XIV. Versailles was a hunting station. That monarch determined to build a palace here that would command the admiration of the world. To obtain room for the grounds, he purchased land to the extent of sixty miles in circumference. By excavat- ing or building up, as was necessary, the landscape was made perfect, at a cost of over two hundred million dollars. History tells us this, but no words or figures can give one the least conception of the beauty spread out here for us to admire at our own sweet will, without money and without price. The trees are a marvel to us, and we wonder how they train them to grow just the right height, and to send out 66 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. their branches in just the right places. We ride through long tunnels formed by the meeting overhead of the branches of those double rows of trees, so trimmed as to be as perfect as masonry. Then on through another avenue, on either side of which is a solid wall of green, raised thirty or forty feet above the ground, and seemingly resting on, and being supported by the huge trunks of trees, so straight and smooth that they look like immense pillars. The magnificent palace stretches away, block after block for more than a quarter of a mile, with equally mag- nificent surroundings. The grand promenade in front, and everywhere flowers in all conceivable arrangements. Con- spicuous also, are the many colossal statues, and fountains of unique design. We ascend the broad steps of the palace and walk through the numberless halls of paintings illus- trative of the victories of France. From the balcony we have a fine view of that most wonderful park, with its canals and lakes, and miniature ships that sail upon them, and the myriads of fountains, the largest of which cost three hundred thousand dollars. This one only plays on state occasions. We wander through the Grand Trianon, built by Louis XIV. for Madame Maintenon, his favorite mistress, and the story goes that after it was finished, he asked her if there 67 PENCIL SKETCHES, was anything else she would like, for he wanted to have it perfect. She said there was but one thing she could think of. It was summer, as now, but she thought she would like a sleigh ride in the streets of Versailles. The next morning, miles of the avenue were spread thick with salt and sugar, and a procession of quaint sleighs were in wait- ing to take that bad, vain woman out under those summer skies for a ride. It is hard to believe that even Louis XIV. could have been such an idiot as to attempt to satisfy her whim. The apartments in this palace are splendid in decora- tions, paintings and furnishings. In one room, most richly decorated, is the furniture used by Josephine. The bed is the one used at Malmaison, probably the one in which she died, with the exact reproduction of its furnishings. We notice in one of the bath-rooms the very small bath tub used by Napoleon. The Petit Trianon is near, in the garden of which Marie Antoinette used to play the shepherdess, and Louis XVI the miller, carrying the sacks of flour upon his broad shoulders for the amusement of the company. Not far from these palaces is the building where the state carriages are kept. There are eight of them, all magnificent. The one in which Napoleon took his son, the "King of Rome," 68 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. to Notre Dame for baptism, is far the richest, having cost two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. We return to Paris by the way of Sevres, carrying with us many pleasant remembrances. Our last day in Paris has a very full program. We must pay one more visit to the Exposition and enjoy its palaces of Art and Industry. The ceramic art, and exqui- site wood carving are intensely interesting to me. And who of the gentler sex, though she may have no use for them, does not like to admire those wonderful creations of feminine apparel that only such houses as Worth's and Felix' can display ? We spend the afternoon very profitably in the gardens and Palace du Luxembourg. This palace was built by Marie de Medicis in 1612, and has passed through many hands and been occupied by many of the French nobility. The rooms are very sumptuously deco- rated and gilded, some being devoted to sculpture, and others containing the paintings of the first living artists. After the death of the artist, his works are removed to the Louvre, if thought worthy. As we prepare to leave the palace, there is a little difficulty in obtaining our parcels, which we left in keeping at the desk. A young man comes to us and says: "Let me have your cheque, and I will get them for you." We 69 PENCIL SKETCHES, gladly accept his kindness. After receiving our parcels he points out many works of merit, and tells us his home is in America, but he has been studying art here in Paris for the past three years. We avail ourselves of the opportunity to make inquiries concerning the most direct route to a certain point to which we wish to go. As we go out on the steps of the palace, he says : "I can just as well call my carriage and take you there/' at the same time motioning to the driver, who is in waiting a short distance down the street. We should have been a little loth to accept so much kindness from a stranger if at that moment we had not caught sight of a flaming necktie, and recognized our old friend the Frenchman, whom we met on the St. Louis. He is in the carriage, and this is the young friend he had told us about. This is certainly a pleasant surprise, and we enjoy the drive greatly. People have been so kind and helpful to us, it will be hard to say good-bye to Paris. Thus far we have been cared for by Thos. Cook & Son, when we did not prefer to care for ourselves, and well cared for, too. They have done all and more than they pledged. But when we leave here we are to travel independently. Our party will consist of five. Dr. McFarren, a minister from Ten- nessee, will travel with us through Italy and Switzerland. 70 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. CHAPTER X. From Paris to Romk. Genoa, Pisa. N LEAVING Paris, our little compartment car is full, so we are obliged to sit up most of the night. How smoothly they run, and how secure we feel, for we know in this country there are no railroad crossings, and if an accident occurs and the fault rests on any individual, that person is severely punished, sometimes having to pay the penalty with his life. Not, as in our country, quite a hero if he wrecks a train. In the morning we find ourselves riding through a most delightful country. The buildings are all of stone, in various forms, with and without cement, but making a variety of colors very pleasing to the eye. Each farmer is a genius, using every inch of ground to the best advantage, and working out his color scheme with the skill of the true artist. Then there are the beautiful highways. Mark Twain says, "They look as though they had been sandpapered and 7i PENCIL SKETCHES, rubbed down, and are clean enough to eat on without a tablecloth." To me they looked as though they were spread with the snowiest damask, and laid on a background of emerald velvet. This white ribbon follows us everywhere we go. Sometimes it forms itself into loops high above our heads, and at other places it is far below us. It seems to come out of the most unexpected places to meet us, but it is always smooth and pure white. Hills are now growing higher, and the farmer has to go up a little farther with his white oxen to plow. Very soon we see no more white oxen, but the little sure-footed donkey trudges along drawing the plow, with submission written all over him. Now our train begins to shoot through tunnels at a fearful rate of speed, coming out to find that the hills have grown into mountains lifting their snowy heads far above the clouds, which trail their misty shadows along their sides, like the snowy robes of a bride. The little white church and cottages away up the mountain side are a hint of how life goes on up there. We come to a place where women and children are washing clothes in a stream, hanging them on the ground to dry and pinning them on with stones. We wave our handkerchiefs to them, and they laugh and return the 72 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. salute. Then along the mountain side comes a moving mass of household furniture, everything from the iron kettle to the baby's cradle, and we know that in the very heart of this animated cargo is the body of a living donkey ; for we see beneath it all, the four tiny feet, as he so carefully picks his way over the rough surface. And so the day passes, our train winding like a serpent around mountains, and over torrents driven to madness by the melting snows on the mountains. With a screech our engine dives into a tunnel, and we bid farewell / to France ; for we know when we see daylight, nine miles ahead, we shall be in sunny Italy. GENOA. Arriving in Genoa near midnight, we appreciate the benefits derived from traveling on Cook's railroad tickets and carrying their hotel coupons; for his agent is here to meet us. He secures a carriage for us, and is ready to give us any information desired. We will never forget these suites of rooms at the hotel in Genoa, with polished floors so bright that they reflect the tints of the beautiful 73 PENCIL SKETCHES, ceilings and tasteful furnishings of the rooms. Did ever anything look more inviting to tired travelers than these dainty, canopied beds? Genoa has been called the "superb," and its appearance as viewed from the sea must be beautiful indeed. There being but little level ground near the gulf, it has had to climb the hills, which afford fine advantages for its archi- tectural display. Still farther away, forming a background, are the hills, each one crowned by its ancient fortification. The city is a confusion of narrow streets, lanes and alleys, some of them entirely inaccessible to ordinary vehicles. Its marble palaces, once so beautiful, extend away into the sky, and the streets are mere cracks that allow a little sunshine to sift through. One of the great sights of Genoa is its wonderful cemetery, Camposanto. Colon- naded corridors enclose a great open space, where they tell us the poor are buried. These corridors have broad marble floors, every slab covering a grave, and on either side for miles are the most exquisitely wrought monuments in marble, snowy white in its virgin purity. Figures are clad in garments or draperies so chis- eled that one is certain of the texture imitated by the 74 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. sculptor. Here is the shimmering satin in all its crispness, and there, the lusterless velvets. As we look down the long ranks of sculptured forms, so entrancing in their loveliness, we marvel, but are silent; for words are inadequate. We have not the time to visit Christopher Columbus' birthplace, but we see a fine statue of him as we return to the station, and proceed on our way to the Eternal City. PISA. There are several hours between trains at Pisa; long enough to see the principal points of interest in the shrunken and diminished little city that once was so populous, and whose ships commanded the sea. But now she is on the increase again, and may become, if she is not already, one of the most flourishing cities of the fertile and productive province of Tuscany. We get a fine view of the surround- ing country when we have climbed to the top of the Leaning Tower. Here we walk lightly, and cannot get rid of the feeling that our own weight will topple the whole vast pile of marble over. We steer shy of the down side, for there the sensation of falling is very acute. There is nothing in the inside except a rope, which hangs from the high side down this tilted well, and touches the other side before it 75 PENCIL SKETCHES, reaches the bottom. The walls at the base are thirteen feet thick, and are half as thick at the top. Each story is sur- rounded by fluted columns with Corinthian capitals. The eighth story, which contains the bells, is much smaller in diameter than the others. It has been built seven hundred years, but no record tells whether it was built as it stands or not. The cathedral, which is very large, and rich in choice marbles and mosaics, itself speaks to us of the wealth of ancient Pisa. The baptistry is still more wonderful. It is circular in form, being' one hundred feet in diameter, and is covered with a cone-surmounted dome. In it hangs the lamp whose measured swing suggested to Galileo the pen- dulum. In the center is the baptistry, of finest marble. This building is endowed with a most wonderful echo. When our guide sounds the tones, do-me-sol-do, they are repeated over and over, the notes seeming to form themselves into melodies with the most bewitching vpKfations, as they chase each other through the beautiful cadences as though played on some wonderful instrument by a master hand. The word "ha!" is sounded, is taken up by the echo, and we hear the most jolly, hearty, rollicking laugh imaginable. Then it grows fainter and fainter until lost in the distance. We return to the celebrated railroad station which is so 75 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. beautifully frescoed and possesses such fine sculpture. But we are growing accustomed to these art treasures, and expect to see them at every turn. After a many course dinner, daintily and beautifully served, in the station dining room, we continue our journey. Two Italian ladies, mother and daughter, occupy the compartment for dames with us, and furnish us with enter- tainment and amusement for a good part of the night. They are well dressed and scrupulously neat. The daugh- ter is beautiful. They have a large satchel and a lunch basket, both of which they place in the rack above their heads. Soon after starting the mother takes off her dress and puts on a dressing sacque, and with a small pillow, arranges herself very comfortably for the night, and all is quiet. In a few minutes she seems to think of something in the satchel that is not placed to suit her, for she arouses herself and takes it down and begins to unpack. Then she re-packs it, locks it and replacing it in the rack, settles her- self again. For the night? Oh. no. In a few minutes, up she gets, and down comes both the satchel and lunch- basket, which are re-arranged. This is more than we can bear, and we all begin to laugh, and they laugh, too. Soon all is quiet again, and we try to get some sleep, when down comes the old satchel with a thud, on the floor. We laugh 77 PENCIL SKETCHES, until we almost cry. She takes a bottle from the satchel and a glass from the basket, and passes wine to the com- pany ; after which she takes a long draught herself. Surely, the woman will rest, now that she has had the thing she has wanted all the time. With an occasional giggle from different members of the party, we gradually subside into quiet and restful slumber, when, horrors! there she is with her lunch basket open and an array of provender enough to feed an army. This is too much ; we fairly scream, and the daughter joins us, while the mother arranges the goodies and passes them around. After a few more turns at the satchel and lunch basket, we arrive at the station where they change cars. But they have left their cheer with us ; the laugh has done us good. I awake in the early morning. I cannot sleep, for there is too much of interest. We are nearing Rome. The country resembles our home land. The buildings are much the same as in France; and as in France, there are few fences, and we wonder how the farmer knows his boun- dary line. The cattle are large, with broad horns, and dark legs shading into light cream, the color of their bodies. At one station we saw an ox and a donkey harnessed together, and one of our party said she saw a woman and a donkey drawing a cart, but I did not observe that. 7» OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. We pass the marble quarries of Caracara and ride along by the side of the yellow Tiber, and soon are really in the Eternal City. It is magnificent ! So beautiful, so clean, we are in love with it from the first moment. Our hotel accommodations are all that could be desired ; everything is on an immense scale. The beautiful frescoes and marble floors, together with the elegant furnishings make our sur- roundings ideal, and we do not dream of, but we actually dwell in, marble halls. 79 PENCIL SKETCHES, CHAPTER XL A Drive: About Romk. UR GUIDE, Caesar Borromeo Palmili — surely he has a high sounding name — is a very intel- ligent and pleasant young man., a descendant from a family of cardinals for many generations back. With confidence in his ability to show us Rome, we start out in animated spirits for Palatine Hill, the entrance way of which is near the Roman Forum, Romulus, followed by a number of Alban shepherds, occu- pied the Hill of Pales in 753 B. C, and we see some of the huge tuf*/ blocks which are supposed to be a part of the original wall that he built to protect his colony. Not far from here stood the den of Pan, the god of the shepherds, and here, also, was the ancient bronze group of the Nursing Wolf, commemorating the mystic one which suckled Romu- lus and Remus. On this hill those proud, patrician monarchs, the Caesars, reared their palaces, and it is strewn with imposing 80 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. ruins. Now the grass grows and the flowers bloom above the ruins of those palace halls, which resounded to the mirth and jests of those who enacted life's drama so many cen- turies ago. From this hill they could look down upon the Roman Forum, and the Coliseum, with its numberless col- umns and arches, looking like lace work as the sunlight sifted through. The palace of Severus was built facing the Appian Way, so travelers coming from the south could see its mag- nificence. But now that grandeur has all passed away, and all that remains to be seen are the broken columns and ruined walls which have been unearthed. Those old mon- archs had things very convenient. They could sit in their guard houses or balconies and watch the horse and chariot races in the Circus Maximus below. This great circus, with a seating capacity of two hundred thousand spectators, has shared a worse fate even than more ancient Rome; for every trace of it is obliterated, the site being now covered by the gas works. It would be very enjoyable to stay here on the hilltop and dream of Rome in her imperial splendor, but as it is the most natural thing to go from one extreme to the other, we are soon standing before Guido Reni's celebrated Arch- angel, in the Church of the Capucians, which claims our attention for some time. This is the first masterpiece we 81 PENCIL SKETCHES, have seen in Rome, so we must show proper appreciation. Our Caesar rings a bell near the high altar, and a monk appears who leads the way down a flight of steps into the vaults below. Here is a different style of decoration from anything we have seen before. There is no lack of mate- rials, if it has taken centuries to collect them, for here are the bones of four thousand monks, arranged with the most artistic skill. The archways separating the rooms are built of the thigh bones, with elaborate designs at the top. Over the ceilings and walls are vines and flowers, their leaves and petals being of knee-caps, finger nails and toe nails ; and the graceful tendrils, of the cords and sinews, dry and crisp, giving a touch of color very pleasing to the artistic eye. The ground is of earth brought from Calvary, upon which are piled pyramids of skulls. The monk picks one up and turns it in his hand very much as a huckster would a fine potato or cab- bage, at our back door. I have no doubt he has a modest pride in thinking that some day his own white and polished skull will be exhib- ited in like manner. J At regular intervals along the walls are the W//j dried bodies of monks, perhaps those whose '' lives of sacrifice have entitled them to the priv- ilege of having their bodies remain intact. Dressed in black flowing robes they stand with outstretched hands, 82 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. as though invoking a blessing on the work ac- complished. There is such a pleased look on their shrunken and drawn features, that it is almost a grin. We take a spoonful of the Calvary earth as thousands do every year, and still it is not exhausted. I suppose they have a car load sent over once in a while. And as we meditate, the thought comes, what a stirring time there would be among these dry bones if we should hear the sound of Gabriel's trump. It is a dreary place, but when we descend into the dun- geons of the old Mamertine prison, where the light of day has never penetrated, the gloom is simply terribl^ In the lower dungeon, many notable persons have been executed. Tradition says that Paul and Peter were confined here be- fore their execution. A spring of water in the middle of the room is said to have gushed forth at Peter's command, and with it he baptized the two jailors, Processius and Mar- tineus. In the stone wall at the head of the stairs leading down into the lower dungeon, is the imprint of a man's face, and tradition says that as Peter started to go down those stairs, the jailor struck him and he fell against the wall, leaving the image of his face. One of our party turned to the guide and asked : "Do you believe it?" 83 PENCIL SKETCHES, He shook his head and said, "No, I don't believe it, but tradition says it is so." We drink from the spring, the water being clear and sparkling and icy cold. As we drive about the city, Caesar points out many objects of interest; as Paul's hired house, where he lived for two years, and where Luke wrote most of the Acts. Now it is converted into a chapel. The house of Bernini, one of the greatest sculptors ; Cardinal Barbarena's palace, built of marble taken from the Coliseum ; the house of Raphael's sweetheart, and the house where Garibaldi took refuge when he was condemned to death, are also pointed out by our guide. The Temple of Fortune, built 554 B. C, and the Temple of Vesta, 350 B. C, are observed with interest. Near the latter are the ruins of the house where the Vestal Virgins lived. They had the task of keeping the fires of Vesta, symbol of the Roman power, always burning. In case they neglected their duty, they were severely punished ; and if they violated their vows of chastity, the penalty was death by being buried alive. The Golden House of Nero seems endless. As Caesar points to it and says, "This is the Golden House of Nero," some one remarks, "I thought we saw that away back some time ago." 84 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. And he replies, with pride, "You did, but this is another part of it." I suppose this was an extra room which he built on for Poppaea. Rome has many beautiful piazzas, or squares. In one stand the mammoth statues of Castor and Pollux holding their horses. On the bases are inscriptions stating that these statues are the work of Phidias and Praxiteles. In the Piazza del Papolo, between four marble water-spout- ing lions, stands the obelisk which Augustus brought from Heliopolis and erected in the Circus Maximus, and Sextus V. removed to this square. We visit Trivi Fountain, built by Clement VIII. Nep- tune, god of the sea, rules the storm from a chariot drawn by horses driven by Tritons, mythological figures, half fish and half human. We drink from this charmed fountain, as visitors do who wish to return to Rome. Modern Rome with its high marble blocks, has much the appearance of an American city, the lower stories being used for shops of various kinds. The doors must be re- moved or concealed during the day, for the great archways are hung with portiers of bright colored materials, and some even have lace ones underneath, giving the streets quite an oriental appearance. And whether the wares are bread, fruits or meats, everything is scrupulously clean, 85 PENCIL SKETCHES, and the women and children who attend these shops are no less so. They have no need of screens, for there are very few flies here, and when we do see one he looks lonely and out of place. 86 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. CHAPTER XII. Churches of Rome. H HIS Sabbath morning we are to visit St. Peter's Church, and although we have read and been told about it by friends who have visited it, we have failed to comprehend its magnificence. We are anxious about getting seats unless we are early, for we can- not realize that eighty thousand persons would have to conic to St. Peter's to crowd it. And vet there are more than four hundred other churches, which must have congregations. We ride through the piazza, with the obelisk and twin fountains. On either side Bernini's colonnade, four rows of columns and pilasters surmounted by a vast number of statues, forms a girdle for it of monumental majesty. W T e gaze at the basilica, and know it is the largest church in Christendom. Yet we are not surprised at its greatness. We are not very enthusiastic about it, for it does not im- press us as being so large. A pebbled incline stretches out under the blazing sun and steps follow steps. At last we reach the door and go 87 PENCIL SKETCHES, in. Still we cannot realize its vastness. Everything is on such an immense scale, we have nothing for comparison. There are gigantic basins for holy water ; cupids ten feet high ; an apostle writing with a pen like a soldier's spear, and here is the wonderful statue of Moses, Michael Angelo's masterpiece. There is nothing small in St. Peter's except the people. We look down the middle nave a few hundred feet and see men and women, and they look like so many ants running around. We walk down where the great but- tress piers support the dome. The capitals of these piers are as large as an ordinary cottage, and the cupola above looks like a planet, resplendent with bright mosaics. Oh, the dazzling splendor of it all ; not a place as large as an infant's hand but is gorgeous with the richest and most beautiful marble. Now the story of the officer who was to meet ten thou- sand troops here in the church to celebrate mass seems prob- able. At the time appointed he came, but not seeing them, thought they were late. They were in one of the trancepts. The high altar beneath the dome is raised over the tomb of St. Peter, and from it descends the double steps of the confessional, illumined by ninety-three lamps, which are always kept burning. At the right of the nave is the famous bronze statue of St. Peter, which is supposed to have been cast by Leo I. from the bronze statue which stood 88 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. in the temple of Jupiter. And soon some more ancient bronze must be found, to repair St. Peter's big toe, which is fast being kissed away. We will try to imagine that high mass is to be cele- brated to-day by Pope Pius XIII. The procession moves with great pomp and majesty down the long nave. First of all come the Swiss Guards, in full uniform ; then valets, in scarlet; the Knights of the Cape and Sword, in Renais- sance costume ; prelates, in violet silk, follow ; cardinals, in purple, with train bearers, and finally his Holiness, in white vestments, raised high, on his royal chair, which is draped with red velvet ; and grouped around him are the high dignitaries of the Vatican. The pope ascends the high altar amid breathless silence, and his powerful voice rings clear as he says the mass and blesses the forty or fifty thousand people who are gathered in the central part of the church. Now is heard the low chanting of the hundreds of voices in the cupola, which grows louder and fuller, until the very heavens seem filled with the melody as the throng passes out from the impressive service. I have read and been told that the roof of this vast museum, high in air, is a little world in itself, where the people who care for it and keep it in repair live. These re- pairs cost no less than $30,000 annually. These people have 89 PENCIL SKETCHES, streets, houses and gardens on the roof of St. Peter's. Children are born and reared here, and life goes on very much the same as in any small village. They certainly live exalted lives. The people of Rome make the most of St. Peter and everything connected with his name. In the church of St. Peter's Chains, a monk lights a candle and leads the way to an altar. He draws aside a heavy silk curtain, and there, hanging in a glass case, is quite a modern-looking chain, perhaps three or four feet long. But, of course, it is the very identical chain with which Peter was bound nearly two thousand years ago. We visit several churches with names of the various saints, as Santa Maria of the Angels, where an ancient Roman temple stood ; Santa Maria of the People, built on the site of Nero's tomb; Saint Bernardo, etc., etc., ad infinitum. In these churches we see the masterpieces of the great artists and sculptors, and the attendants, or care- takers usually have a piece of the true cross to show us, and a few trinkets ; like a dozen or so of the pillars from Solo- mon's Temple or the Temple of Jupiter, or the sarcophagus of Marcus Agrippa or some other old Roman. The Italians have a recipe for preserving their saints and keeping them three or four hundred years. When a 90 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. cheek caves in, they fill it up with wax. Indeed, we see one young and beautiful saint — I mean young when she departed this life, but very, very old now — whose body is wholly cov- ered with wax. It is dressed in showy silk, and is lying in a glass case, reminding one of the best doll, laid away for special occasions. Of all the churches we visit, St Paul's-Without-the- Wall pleases me most. Church annals state that the body of St. Paul was buried in a small cemetery which belonged to a Roman matron whose name was Lucina. Constantine erected a basilica over this tomb, which was enlarged and embellished about the year 286. It has been twice injured by fire and restored again. There is a main entrance being erected at the present time, which when completed, will make St. Paul's- Without-the- Wall second to no other church in the world. The main nave is decorated with great pillars of fine granite and divided by rows of the same, from four smaller naves. In the center rises the papal altar, covered by a bronze pavilion supported by four alabaster pillars. It covers the spot where St. Paul and Timothy are buried. High up on the wall are paintings representing scenes from the life of St. Paul, and forming the frieze are por- traits in mosaics, of two hundred and sixty-three popes, from St. Peter to Pope Pius XIII. Still there is room for 9i PENCIL SKETCHES, hundreds more. Two immense pillars support the arch of Placidia, which shows, in mosaic, the oldest image of our Lord in Rome. In the trancepts are two altars covered with malachite presented to Gregory XIV. by Nicholas of Russia. The ceiling is a mass of gold gilt, and the floor is of highly polished marble. Now, contrast this wealth with the poverty and squalor that meet us as we emerge from the church. Beggars of every description, from the tiny babe to old creatures who hardly seem human. In these we see the natural results of Catholicism. 92 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT CHAPTER XIII. In Royal Halls, The King's Palace and the Vatican. WRITE to-day on royal paper, which our guide ap- propriated for me from the king's council chamber. In this room is the statue of Pompey, at the foot of which Caesar fell. There is, also, one of the present king. The walls of this cabinet are decorated with old paintings by Romano, "The Flight into Egypt/' and "The Slaughter of the Innocents," being among them. On entering the Royal Palace we are taken into a room containing Victor Immanuel's funeral decorations. There is also a solid gold crown of acorn leaves, presented to him by the people. In another apartment are the tapestries of the Medicis family. After enjoying these rare treasures, we make a tour of the royal halls. Each one has a dif- ferent color scheme. I will only mention two of these halls, although they are all marvels of richness and beauty. The Throne Room is furnished in red, the ceiling being of gold gilt, and the walls are covered with the richest of 93 PENCIL SKETCHES, silk damask to harmonize with the furniture, which is beautifully carved and overlaid with gold. In one end is the throne, with its canopy of red velvet, and in the opposite end are life-sized standing portraits of the king and queen, while at one side are the portraits of the Prince of Naples and his wife. The Conversational Hall, where the king and queen meet the court people, is furnished in cream and gold. Every- thing about it is so light and airy ! The floor is inlaid with the most beautiful of woods, highly polished, and the ceiling — well, they paint such ceilings only in Italy. On it there is a mingling of fair forms and garlands of flowers, while cherubs laden with roses seem to be tossing them in every direction. The walls are hung with the richest Gobelin tapestries. In the center of the hall is a gilded crown per- haps ten feet across, for the arrangement of flowers. With its many glistening chandeliers and exquisite furnishings, it is a dream. Then I think of our chief executive at home, in Amer- ica, who, I have heard it hinted, if he has guests numbering more than four, has to have a bed made on the floor for him- self and the "first lady of the land." Near the Royal Pal- ace is another palace built in 1063 on the ruins of the Baths of Constantine. On the ceiling of the central room 94 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. we see the finest fresco in the world, "The Aurora." It cannot be described ; it must be seen. In keeping with the Royal Palace is the queen's milk- house. In the stables is a long row of beautiful cows leis- urely chewing their cuds while standing in clean straw up to their sides. When Caesar asks if we would like some milk, the rest refuse, but not I. I am tired and hungry, and when he brings a large glass full, right from the cow, I know I never tasted anything better ; and it refreshes me for the long walk through the Vatican. Driving through the Piazza San Petro, we look long again at that king of churches, St. Peter's, whose dome seems to almost fill the sky. The brass globe above the dome, which we know twelve persons can occupy at the same time, seems but a tiny ball that a child might hold in its hand. It is nearly four hundred and fifty feet from the ground. To the right is the Vatican Palace, the home of the pope and his court since Gregory XL Each one has added to it in a way that renders it the largest and most splen- did building in the world. It has twenty courtyards and more than eleven thousand rooms. When Pope Pius is car- ried from his apartments to his gardens, he passes through one mile of corridors, halls and stairways resplendent with 95 PENCIL SKETCHES, the most exquisite marble, frescoes, sculpture and paintings ; and all from the hands of such artists as Michael Angelo, Raphael, Guido Reni, etc. As we enter the Vatican, we see the Swiss Guards, in their gaudy uniforms of red, black and yellow. These uniforms were designed by Michael Angelo. Going up the Scala Regia, or Royal Staircase, we enter the Sala Regia, or Royal Hall, with its wonderful frescoes. These frescoes on the ceiling are a marvel to us. We can understand how effects can be produced on flat surfaces, but on these curved ceilings, the foreshortening and wonderful intricacies of drawing, the delicacy of touch, the simplicity of laving on of colors, the feeling, the soul, leave us spellbound with the magnificence. Now we real- ize how those old masters worked for years on one ceiling. This palace is bewildering in its vastness and its rich- ness of art. There are forty halls of Grecian sculpture, every piece a gem, besides miles of paintings, gathered here and preserved and cared for, free for all who will, to en- joy. Yet, I am sorry to say, there are people who will par- take of all these privileges, and then complain of being rob- bed, if perchance they are asked for a small fee by some one in attendance. A look into the garden of the Vatican must suffice, as we are not allowed to enter. Neither do we see his holiness, the pope. Our guide obtained per- 96 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. mission for us to do so, but it is for Wednesday, one day beyond our sojourn in this city. The papal carriages are very elegant in gold decorations, yet they are not as fine as the royal carriages at Versailles. Some of the tombs of the popes are very magnificent. That of Pope Pius IX. is rich in the choicest mosaic work, with gold and gems. The ceiling and walls are of the most elaborate designs, worked out with those tiny bits of colored marbles so that the shading and softness of colors would almost rival the most beautiful paintings. Not far from the tomb, or chapel, is the stone which marks the place where St. Lorenzo was burned alive. There is something else one enjoys in Rome besides the art, ruins and tombs, and that is the music. Every evening a fine military band plays on a piazza close to our hotel. The first evening we "do as the Romans do," prom- enade in the piazza. But the second night we think we will enjoy the music in a more restful way, and nature as- serts her rights and we fall into a dreamless sleep, lulled by the sweet Italian airs. 97 PENCIL SKETCHES, CHAPTER XIV. The Appian Way, Catacombs and Coliseum. HE horses' hoofs click on the pavement, the car- riage wheels roll as smoothly as on any other road, and we feel no differently, although we are riding in the Appian Way, the queen of roads, built by Appius Claudius three centuries before Christ was born. Passing the family tomb of the Scipios, a door, with steps close by, leads to the tomb of the writers, physicians, silversmiths and Li! musicians of Nero's household. Then we ride through the Arch of Drusus, erected to record his victories over the Germans, The remains of the aqueduct which sup- plied Caracalla's baths are still to be seen at this place. These baths must have been very magnificent. In- deed, wherever we go in Europe, if we are at a loss to re- member where any ancient and beautiful piece of sculpture. 98 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. or baths of onyx or alabaster, came from, we would be quite safe in saying they came from the Baths of Cara- calla, or the Golden House of Nero. The chapel "Domini Quo Vadis," is a little farther on. It was built to commemorate an early Christian tradition, which says, "The Lord bearing his cross, met Peter at this spot when he was leaving Rome to escape a martyr's death ; but when Peter saw his Lord and the evidences of his suf- ferings, he turned back and willingly submitted to be cru- cified, but requested that it might be with his head down- ward." Jesus disappearing left his "footprints," which Caesar tells us we will see in St. Sebastian's church. On the high ground in front of us towers the tomb of Metella, and beyond are ruins, ruins, ruins — crumbling pillars, and broken statues. In the distance before us are the Apen- nines and Sabine hills, to the right, the Alban and to the left, die Etruscan hills. !n the plain called the Campagna, among other ruins are the remains of the aqueduct which Claudius built to bring water to Rome. The Appa Forum mentioned in the Acts, is forty miles beyond here, but the site of the Three Taverns is unknown. We stop at St. Sebastian's church and see the "foot- prints," but we are disappointed. Either that tradition is at fault or they picked up the wrong footprints, for these iL.r&. PENCIL SKETCHES, must have belonged to a giant. After looking through the apartments of the friars, with their plain but mas- sive old furniture, Little Joseph, a fat, curly haired old friar, lights a taper for each one of us, and we descend into the catacombs. Here the early Christians buried their dead, and concealed themselves, to avoid per- secution. It is estimated that there are nearly six hundred miles of these subterranean passages about Rome. I thought I had been in dark places before, but here is darkness that can be felt. The light from our candles penetrates the gloom only for a few inches. We keep close together, for we realize that in this maze of passages, extending in every direction, it would be fatal to become separated from our guide. We tell what we would do if such were the case, but it seems as if the blackness, the gloom and stillness would soon kill one. We are encouraged and comforted (?) by being told of a company, with two friars, who were lost here a short time ago, and never found. With confidence in our guide, we proceed along the main corridor. In some of the niches are lying the bones of human beings, and as the flickering light from our can- dles falls through the eyeless sockets of these skulls, I am reminded of a time when a friend and myself attempted to put a temperance lesson on canvas. We arranged a ioo OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. study consisting of a human skull, a whisky bottle and glasses. The skull was placed near the bottle so its ghastly profile was reflected bv the dark glass. We arranged this most interesting study in the farthest corner of our attic, somewhat in shadow, and while we worked we dis- cussed the subject "whether departed spirits are permitted to revisit this earth," and we wondered if, perchance, the soul to whom this skull belonged might not be near and taking a lively interest in our work. In the stillness of the place it seemed as though each sound that reached us was the stealthy step or fluttering garments of some invisible being. That night before retiring I made some trivial excuse for returning to the attic. I was so pleased with the prog- ress we had made that I wanted to have just one more look, as one does at a new hat or a new gown. Taking a candle I tip-toed the whole length of the attic, and there was the study and canvases, as we had left them, but, some way, I had lost interest and turned to retrace my steps, when that same queer feeling that used to tak° me in the back when a child, when I was sent into the dark cellar for vegetables, came over me. I turned about and backed the whole length of that long room, and the next moment I was in my own apartment with my mind fully made up to 101 PENCIL SKETCHES, defer my admiration until daylight. But in this place we have no queer feelings in our backs ; we are getting accus- tomed to seeing bones everywhere ; they seem to be the swell thing for decorations. I have heard it said that in one of the cathedrals here in Europe, the skull of one of the Magi is used as a drinking cup. We are shown the tomb of St. Cecelia, and we take a little of the rock as a memento, and yet we are in doubt ; for we have heard of this same saint being buried in another catacomb. A little distance farther on we come to a chapel where the Christians met for worship. It is a room about ten or twelve feet square, with a simple altar of stone. We think of the pomp and grandeur of the monuments erected to perpetuate the lives of those pagan monarchs, which we passed on our way here, and contrast it with the gloomy but peaceful resting place of these Christians, where they await the resurrection morn. The darkness is so intense and the gloom so unnerving that some of the party refuse to go any farther. 102 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. We return to the warmth of day, and the cheer of sun light and ride back over that highway on which the victorious legions of the great Cciesars marched in triumphal procession toward Rome. Paul, too, walked over this road, bound as a prisoner. He fought no battles with sword and battle ax, but his consecrated life has battered down the walls of superstition, and permeated and enriched the lives of millions and brought them to a saving faith in the world's Redeemer. His was not a triumphal entry into the "eternal city," but the king whom he served and for whom he suf- fered, has gone on from triumph to triumph, on down through the ages ; and the songs of his victories shall echo and re-echo when the name of Rome shall be lost in oblivion. We have feasted our eyes on churches and temples ; the Pantheon and villas: arches dedicated to Constantine, Titus and many others ; the Trojan forum and the Roman forum, where are seen the ancient remains of those build- ings which have witnessed the rise and fall of the greatest empire of the world. We visit the spot where Nero died. There is no imposing monument to mark the spot; only a plain, flat stone. Flowers grow in the court, which is sur- rounded by buildings occupied by the very poor As at other feasts, the best is often saved until the last, and so it is with us ; for we are now to visit the most 103 PENCIL SKETCHES, magnificent ruin in the world, the amphitheater of imperial Rome, the Coliseum. It was begun A. D. 72, by Vespacian, on the site of the Golden House of Nero, and was inaugu- rated by Titus in 80, with sports that lasted one hundred days, during which, thousands of men and beasts gave up their lives. History states that at least eighty thousand Christians perished in this building alone. We imagine old Nero would have heaved a sigh of satisfaction if he had known that the site of his house was to be dedicated to the carrying on of his fiendish persecutions. We can hardly imagine the grandeur of this gigantic structure in its early days, for it is grand even in its decay. It is Greek in architecture, and changes at every tier. The first is Doric, the second Ionic, and the third Corin- thian, each of the lower tiers having eighty arches, and the whole being veneered with marble. The interior is awe- inspiring. Perfect stillness reigns. The rays of the de- scending sun shining through its many arches shed a mel- low light over all, and if we speak, it is in whispers. This is not a place in which to talk, but to think. In our imaginations we re-people this vast structure with its eighty thousand spectators. When the great arena is flooded with water, thirty-six ships can play at battle, but naval battles do not interest this great assembly ; it must see 104 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. blood flow. Before us is the podium, where the emperor and his vestal virgins s«.t. For them it was to save the lives of any they wished by turning down their thumbs, but how seldom they did it, and thousands of poor victims raised their pleading eyes to them in vain. In the centuries that have rolled by, this building has warred with many elements, and now the grass and ferns grow from the niches in the walls, and lizards, sleeping in the sunshine, are its only occupants. But it stands alone in its majesty and is still victor. Near by the Coliseum is Sudan's Fountain, where the gladiators bathed after their contests in the arena. Again we recall history which says, on great occasions this mam- moth building was fitted up with gold, silver and amber furniture, and we think perhaps Mrs. Caesar might have sent down from her back parlors on the hill, fifty or a hundred of those exquisite amber and ivory divans, inlaid with gems and silver filigree, and upholstered with the rich- est cloth from the looms of the far East. Speaking of amber reminds me of one morning when a young lady of our party came rushing in and asked me to go with her to see a love of a set of toilet articles, which she wanted for her room at home. We hastened to the shop fearing it might be sold. The shopkeeper handed 105 PENCIL SKETCHES, down a beautiful satin-lined box containing in its folds, mirror, brush and comb, etc., set in amber. The young lady's eyes sparkled as she said, "Isn't that exquisite? Will not that look fine on my dresser? I need something nice when I have company, you know." I answered, "It is beautiful. What is the price?" "I have not enquired yet," she said ; "I thought I would have you see how you liked them first." So thoughtful of the shopkeeper ! The price was only four hundred and fifty marks ($90). She looked up at me with something of the same expression in her eyes, 1 imagine, as those gladiators had in theirs when they turned their faces toward the vestal virgins. I turned my thumbs down, and said : "The articles are very reasonable, but you have so much to carry, had you not better wait until we get to London, and get some there?" And she thought she had. The other cities visited, we have not found just as we had pictured them in our minds, but in this city we have felt at home. When, from one of the seven hills, we have looked down on ruined temple, arch or forum, each has seemed strangely familiar, and when we caught our first glimpse of the Coliseum, it was as though we had been ac- customed to the sight all our lives. We have suddenly 106 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. come upon people from our own state, and stood in the shadow of some triumphal arch and talked of commonplace things while the earth under our feet was layer upon layer deep with history and tragedy. I have long desired to visit Rome and view the ruins of her past splendor, and I shall go home and often long to visit her again. 107 PENCIL SKETCHES, CHAPTER XV. A Morning in Naples, Pompeii. Vesuvius smokes in sight, whose font of fire, Outgushing, drowned the cities on his steeps . And murmuring Naples, spire o'ertopping spire, Sits on the slope beyond where Virgil sleeps." T is after midnight when we arrive in Naples. A long carriage ride brings us to the Parker House, BM31 where we are ushered into most beautiful apart- ments. In the morning long before the others are awake, I start on a little tour of exploration. We had ascended so gradually in the night I did not realize at what height we were, but as I swing open the shutters of one of the win- dows, a most entrancing scene meets my eyes. The hotel is on a high elevation overlooking the city and beautiful bay, and in the distance is Vesuvius, its head amidst the fleecy clouds, which are tinged by the rays of the morning sun, and sending its curl of purple smoke straight up into the sky. I can hardly suppress a little scream of delight as 1 08 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. I drink in the beauty and the pure, cool morning air until I am satisfied. Then turning to another window, I open it and step out onto a balcony perhaps twenty feet square, with a floor of blue and white tile, and bordered with potted plants. From here I look down into the gardens, filled with rare plants, and far down the hillside covered with vines and olive trees, among which are seen the bright tile roofs of the houses. From this balcony a long, narrow one leads back to a court in which grow, very luxuriantly, palms, oleanders and other tropical plants; and forming a back- ground to this is a ledge of rocks towering far above the hotel — all under the fair sky of this glorious morning. Naples is the most populous city in Italy, and disputes with Constantinople the claim of occupying the most beau- tiful site in Europe. Its buildings are very large and high, but can boast of little architectural beauty. Nowhere have we seen such splendid turnouts, and so many beautiful and exquisitely dressed ladies and children. The nurses, in their odd head-dresses, with wide, bright-colored rib- bons hanging to the ground, and the quaintly-dressed little sprites are very attractive to us. We notice, too, that the horses have no bits in their mouths and wear no check reins, but are guided by a little arrangement fastened to the nose. 109 PENCIL SKETCHES, Here are to be seen, as in all Italian cities, large num- bers of goats. They run along the business streets, in their wise way, seeming to know just where to stop. Men and women come out with their dishes, and then and there a goat is milked, whether in front of a fashionable shop, or in some back alley. No grumbling here about watered milk or its being churned over the pavements and soured before being delivered to the customer. The National Museum is one of the finest in the world, and we just revel among its treasures, finding it verv help- ful in preparing us to see Pompeii intelligently. It contains a large part of the statuary, paintings, bronzes, mosiacs, etc., that have been excavated from Pompeii in the last century. Now they allow nothing to be taken away. Everything is left where found. This museum is also unique as a treasure house of Roman and early Italian antiquities. While the variety is great, the artistic value is even greater. In the halls of sculpture we are fascinated by the wonderful pieces of mar- ble, which have been preserved for so many centuries. The Farnese Hercules, the Farnese Bull, Amphion and Zethur binding Dirce to its horns and the Dancing Faun are among many which are particularly interesting. It is about one-half hour's ride from Naples to Pom- peii, on the cars, and there is more fun crowded into that no OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. short time than one could imagine. A young student from a college in Rome, against our protestations, enters our compartment for dames at the last moment before starting. He can speak very little English, but what he lacks in speech he makes up in gestures. He is a whole circus in himself, and we have a merry time. We find that the people in European countries take up our language much more readily than we do theirs. After we had left the car at Pompeii and were some distance away, I heard some one speak my name very distinctly. I was startled at first to hear it spoken by some one away off here in this far away country, and turning around I saw that young man leaning out of the window. Pie threw my pencil to me, and waved us a good bye as the train pulled out from the station. Securing a guide, we start for the city of Pompeii. We walk along a narrow street, with oleander trees, laden with blossoms, on either side and forming an arch overhead. On our way we visit a small museum where we see many wonderful relics from the buried city. There is quite an array of eatables — loaves of bread, cake, fried cakes, prunes, nuts, etc., all as perfect in form though somewhat black- ened, as though they were of yesterday's baking, instead of one more than eighteen hundred years ago. Then there are those terrible reminders of that day of horrors, the casts of bodies found. The ashes settled around the victims. in PENCIL SKETCHES, forming a cement. In time the flesh decayed leaving the bones lying in a perfect mould of the bodies. By filling this mould with liquid plaster they have the exact cast of the forms. The terrible contortions of the bodies and the look of agony on the faces, showed plainly the unspeakable suf- ferings experienced. At the entrance to the city, our guide points out the barns where the chariot "horses" were left, slaves being used instead of horses in the narrow streets of Pompeii. As the sea used to come into the streets at times, there are large stepping-stones at the crossings. The streets are paved with square blocks of volcanic rock, in which are deep grooves worn by the passing of the chariots for many cen- turies. The sidewalks are very narrow, and are raised to the level of the stepping-stones. The houses do not always open on the street, but into courts, some of which are still kept beautiful with flowers, and the statuary and garden tables are as pure white as though they just came from the sculptor's chisel. What marvels of beauty these miniature palaces must have been, with their exquisite mosaics and paintings, bronzes, costly vases and gems, and rich draperies, of Tyrian purple. Many of the old doorplates have been found, enabling the excavators to identify the homes of many. We enter the house of Glaucus, the wonderful paintings of 112 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. which we saw in the Neapolitan Museum. Lord Lytton has most perfectly described this house in "The Last Days of Pompeii." We also visit the house of Pansa. It is with feelings of awe, we wander through these silent houses, which once resounded with laughter and song, on through the wine cellars, and the bake shops, where the baker left his bread in the oven and in his flight or destruction let it bake on down through the ages. In one house we imagine they were preparing for their aunts and cousins who were coming to attend the games in the after- noon, for in the oven they show us the remains of a suck- ing pig, which was being prepared for guests, who left with- out a word of apology, without even a wish to stay and en- joy the sports. There is one house in Pompeii that women are never allowed to enter, nor would they wish to do so ; for never has pen been bold enough to describe the obscene and degrading pictures which decorate its walls. We are tired, and sit down in the tragic theater and think. We wonder how old this city was at the time of that terrible day, the 24th of August, 79 A. D., which the younger Pliny describes so graphically. "By this time," Pliny says, "the murky darkness ' had so increased that one might have believed himself 113 PENCIL SKETCHES, abroad in a black and moonless night, or in a chamber where all the lights had been extinguished. On every hand was heard the complaint of women, the wailing of children and the cries of men. One called his father, another his son, and another his wife, and only by their voices could they know each other. Many in their terror begged that death would come and end their distress. Some implored the gods to succor them, and some believed that this night was the last, the eternal night which should engulf the universe. Even so it seemed to me, and I consoled myself for the com- ing death with the reflection: 'Behold the world is passing away !' " Here are stone steps in this theater worn thin by the feet of thousands of pleasure seekers, as they passed in to see the brilliant performance of the latest star in the theat- rical horizon, and passed out to take up the duties of the home, the shop, the court, or whatever life held for them. We have placed our hands in the deep groove worn in the flint- like stone at the fount where the tired, heated toilers placed theirs, as they bent over to drink. This was a very old town when Christ was born. But why do we stay here? These seats will never be filled again ; that stage will never re-echo the footfalls and voices of those actors, for that terrible day so many centuries ago was positively their last appear- ance. 114 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. As we pass out through the gate of the silent city, we are told of the brave Roman soldier clad in complete ar- mor, who, true to his charge, stood unflinchingly at his post until his noble spirit was burned out, and when found, that soulless armor was keeping guard over a soulless city. On our return to the station we see coming on the highway what looks like a huge bundle of rags in the midst of a cloud of dust. As it comes nearer, we realize that it is a part of a human being, both legs and one arm being gone. As he wriggles himself towards us we shrink from his repulsive face, and his voice, which sounds more like an animal's when suffering pa in, than a human being's. He holds out his one hand, left for that purpose, I suppose, to receive alms, which we are glad to give, to be rid of the sight. If these Italian beggars' incomes are in proportion to their deformities this fellow must be a multi-millionaire. ii5 PENCIL SKETCHES, CHAPTER XVI. Vesuvius, From Naples to Florence. E arise early this morning for we are to ascend the great Vesuvius today. It looks but a short distance from here. At half past seven we be- gin our long ride through the worst part of Naples. It has been said : "see Naples and die." I think one would want to, if he were obliged to see this part of it very long. The poverty, filth and squalor is frightful. Women and children with scarcely clothing enough to cover their naked- ness are contentedly sitting in their doorways as we pass. Trudging along at our side, perfectly naked, is a pretty little fellow pushing an old wheelbarrow. It is a common sight to see some of the gentler sex sitting flat on the pavement picking lice from each other's hair, and the men stretched out anywhere, asleep, with a stone for a pillow. All kinds of work is being done outside of these great blocks, on the sidewalk. Tailors sewing, small girls and boys knitting and the women even have their sewing 116 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. machines out on the walk. While they work, or sleep, or search for vermin, as the case may be, others boil sweet corn in great kettles, over charcoal stoves. With a stick of bread in one hand and an ear of corn in the other, these people look perfectly contented and happy. Some of our party have been wishing for some corn, but when I offer to stop and buy some for them, they ignore my generosity. Beggars run beside our carriage. The blind, led by little children, the old, with distorted joints and haggard faces, until we almost sicken and cover our eyes to keep out the horrible sights. Here, as everywhere in Italy, are to be seen the sleek, well fed priests, in their rich vestments, on their errands of — mercy? We hope so. We are now beginning the ascent of the mountain, and soon come to where the road winds like a ribbon up its rocky and uneven surface. We are accompanied by music on either side. On the one, several small boys convert them- selves into cart-wheels and roll along by our side, even if the road is steep, all the time singing their weird songs. Every time they assume an upright position, with a grace- ful gesture they hold out their hands for pennies. We throw some to them and laugh to see the scramble to get the coins. On the other side walk two men, playing on 117 PENCIL SKETCHES, instruments, and although their music is good, somehow they do not arouse our sympathies. We ride for hours through fig and olive orchards, past large tracts of lava-covered fields, stopping' occa- sionally for the horses to rest, and for peddlers to sell us trinkets made of the lava from great Vesuvius. The buildings of Naples are growing more and more indistinct, but we can still discern the castle St. Elmo, on the summit. At noon we reach the railroad station. As we see a car creeping up the mountain side, almost perpendicular, we realize it is a time for nerve. Encouraging each other, we step into the car and begin the ascent. We experience the sensation, I imagine, one would if he were at the end of a vast pendulum suspended from the very heavens. We grow brave, and look down. Everything seems inverted ; the sea looks like the sky and the sail boats like sea gulls. We meet a car coming down, and know we are half way up. In what seems an age, time to live over a whole life, our car grates against the platform and we step on terra firma. But where is the top, the crater we came to see? We are informed that it is about twenty minutes walk higher up. Can't go without a guide. The guide is paid and we begin the climb, going in a zigzag path and sinking into the ashes and lava to our shoe tops at every step. 118 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. After climbing for a long time we are told by our guide and his followers that we are just half way, and they ask, "Would you have a chair, and be carried?" "Would you have a strap, and be pulled up?" We prefer, if our necks are to be broken, to have a hand in the operation ourselves, so we plow along, not daring to look back ; not for fear of turning into a pillar of salt, but a roly-poly. Passing holes where sulphurous smoke is pouring out, for the volcano is not entirely quiet now, climbing over huge blocks of lava, we stand at last by the mouth of the crater and look down into its smoky depths. At first we are almost suffocated by the sulphur- ous smoke, but growing accustomed to it, we see in this great chasm a minature world, with its mountains and val- leys, fields and rivers, and all surrounded by a great moat. The sun shining through the veil of smoke imparts a sub- dued, but beautiful coloring to the sulphur-coated lava. The crater is much larger than I had expected to see. It looks to be a full quarter of a mile in diameter. Now we realize how it could have vomited up the thousands of acres of lava and rocks we passed on our way up. "Keep, O, Traveler ! a firm and powerful Hand on your heart now. Mine well nigh slipped from my hold, As I stood here trembling with rapture." 119 PENCIL SKETCHES, The view of the surrounding country and sea is mag- nificent. Pompeii and Herculaneum seem, from this great height, to lie just at the foot of the mountain. This is one of the places where one desires to go, but fears to, is glad he has been, but never wants to go again. While ascending the mountain, after the cart-wheel boys and the musicians had left us, there still walked along by the side of the carriage fy, a bare-footed lad of about twelve years of age. His one suspender held up a pair of patched, though clean, trowsers, and he wore an old straw hat which could boast of only a part of its brim. Supposing him to be following us for the same purpose the others had, one of the party motioned for him to go back. He turned his bright, honest face to us and said, in the most musical voice I ever heard, "I go to the stazeone" (station) "to work, madam, to care for the horses, madam." He walked beside us for a little distance and then darted into some side path, taking a short cut to a place higher up the mountain where we found him waiting. When we reached the station, he watered the horses, sponging out their mouths and pouring water on their heads, making 1 20 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. himself useful in many ways. Now, as we descend the mountain, he rides on the back of the carriage and is a valuable guide. Though his vocabulary is limited he speaks very good English, his only teachers having been tourists who were interested in him and helped him to learn a few words, as we are doing to-day. His knowledge of the history of Vesuvius and its surroundings is remarkable. He tells us the date and points out the lava of the different eruptions, and brings us pumice stone and flowers to carry home with us. He tells us he studies morning and evening and goes up the mountain during the day. He gets a little money for work, and the tourists give him some. His grace and politeness would open the closest purse, I am sure. Farther down the mountain, among the olive groves, we come to a group of cottages, with children playing about. One tiny little sprite leaves her playmates and runs by our side, her little brown hand held out for pennies and her big brown eyes looking so wishfully up in our faces. This appeal is more than we can withstand and we begin to search for small coins, when our little guide tells us that her mother called to her and said she must not ask for money. But I shall always feel a twinge at my heart 121 PENCIL SKETCHES, h'kurf i I whenever I ihink of that cunning little figure trudging back home empty-handed, heavy-hearted, feeling, I have no doubt, as one does on a return trip from selling tickets for a church sup- per. Suddenly the boy jumps from the carriage and gathers his hands full of stones, and a few feet from the roadside as fierce a battle takes place as I ever care to see. An immense snake lies coiled up in the grass, but as he spies the lad he raises his head several feet and darts at him. But the boy is prepared and jumps to one side, then a volley of stones are thrown, but with little effect. Again the snake's head is raised and with forked tongue distended, he aims another blow at his antagonist which the boy just escapes, and so the battle goes on, the snake strik- ing at the boy and the boy hurling stones and such a torrent of Italian epithets at him, that we laugh one moment and are startled with fear the next. Finally, a sharp stone well aimed, cuts an ugly gash in the snake's body which makes him all the more furious. We cheer the boy but it is almost impossible for him to hit the snake, so rapidly does he coil and strike. At last he runs to the carriage and seizes the whip and as the snake raises his head 22 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. the long lash of the cow hide coils around his body. It is almost pitiful to see him writhe in agony and fight for his life, but soon he succumbs and his head is crushed with a stone. With the handle of the whip our little victor lifts and drags the reptile to the carriage, and the driver hangs him over the dashboard and there he hangs perfectly limp, except the end of his tail, which will wiggle back and forth until the sun goes down. That fact was a great mystery to me when a child, and is still the same. Perhaps it is a way of saying "I told you so," handed down from the Garden of Eden. The boy, with scarcely breath enough left to thank us for our small contribution and to bid us good-bye as he leaves us to go to his home, is well satisfied with his day's work, no doubt ; for his trophy is carried to Naples, from whence he will be sent a reward. This is the way at least one little Italian boy is earning his education. We enjoy the ride back to Naples, where we refresh ourselves and rest a few hours. To-night we turn our faces homeward. We start for Florence, stopping several hours at Rome. The ride is pleasant though uneventful, and at nine o'clock in the evening of the following day we arrive in the historic city of Florence, and are greeted by a most magnificent concert in the piazza in front of our hotel. But long before the music ceases, we are in dreamland. 123 PENCIL SKETCHES, CHAPTER XVII. Florence, Across the Apennines, A night in Venice. HAT a happy time we have here in Florence, peering into these little shops where they carve such dainty and beautiful things in wood, ivory, and marble, and make those wonderful mosaics of intricate designs worked out with bits of glass or marble no larger than a mustard seed. No wonder the workmen's sight fails them in only a few years. We feel that we can look, to our heart's content. We are troubling no one ; for all that they have in their shops is spread out before you with the prices marked in plain terms ; and they don't molest you with, "What can I do for you? Is there any- thing I can show you to-day?" But here we are in the Piazza della Signoria, in the midst of Florentine business and political life. In the center of this square stands the finest monument in the city, that of Cosimo I. Here, also, Savonarola, or "the Frate," as he was called in Florence, suffered martyrdom 124 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. for his denunciations of the immoral lives of its citizens. Here he was dragged to prison, torture and execution. On one side of the piazza is the palace of state, on another, the splendid loggia, or porch, built as a protection for the prior during the elections. From this loggia the decrees of the government were proclaimed to the people, who gathered in the piazza at the sound of the bell, which still hangs in the tower. Palazza Vecchio Steps, in front, lead to a plat- form which is covered by a vaulted roof. The three large arches resting on the solid but light Corinthian-capped columns, and adorned with original statues from some of the best sculptors the world has ever produced, forms a structure that the citizens of Florence may well be proud of. Leaving this grandeur we now visit a most enchanting little spot called Michael Angelo's Grotto, in the center of which fountains throw their silvery spray into beds of ferns. The walls are entirely covered with carvings in stone, of shepherds and sheep, trees and flowers, and so intricate and perfect is the work that one feels that it is a fitting and appropriate monument to that great man. who was a marvel in painting, architecture and sculpture. This is the only monument dedicated to his memory we have seen. His tomb in Rome is very simple. The Petti Art Gallery, though small when compared with many in Europe, is considered ore of the best col- 125 PENCIL SKETCHES, lections in the world. There are only five hundred paint- ings, but nowhere else are so many original masterpieces collected in one place. A half length portrait of our Savior, by Tozione ; The Assumption, by Andrea del Sarto ; Madonna del Granduca, by Raphael ; Cleopatra, by Guido Reni, were some which particularly appealed to us. Raphael's portrait of Leo X. and his cardinals is very fine ; no painter has produced or ever will produce anything better. We are told this by our guide. We would not presume to advance such a statement on our own author- ity. We walk through the long gallery across the Arno river, hung with hundreds of portraits of the Medicis family, to the Ufnzi Gallery. The great cathedral of Florence is most magnificent, and, like many another in Italy, was so long building that several architects did their work and passed away before it was completed. It is Gothic in style, the narrow windows being surrounded by the finest carvings imagina- ble. The four side doors are splendid monuments of the ornamental sculpture of different ages. Entering the building one is struck with the plainness, the majestic sim- plicity ; the feeling being that he is in the house of God and not in a great museum. 126 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. Pope Pius IX. said, "In St. Peter's, man thinks; in Santa Marie del Fiore, man prays." The Campanile, or bell tower, designed by Giotto, is incrusted with three kinds of marble. The red marble of Perugia, green serpentine, and white marble. These colors are varied by the introduction of elaborate patterns inlaid in delicate marble mosaic, in every available space, while- glass mosaic is introduced behind sculpture to make the figures stand out more distinctly. This is said to be the most carefully wrought out work of its kind in all Europe. Before leaving Florence, we take a drive about the city. The palaces, constructed of rough hewn stone, give it a peculiar character differing from other European cities. The river Arno is crossed by six bridges, two being suspension and four built of stone. The Jewelers' Bridge retains its ancient form and is still lined on either side by goldsmiths' shops. Another is adorned with statues, and is remarkable for the perfect symmetry of its arches. We cannot leave Florence without a piece of her marble, but after making our small purchases, we prepare to depart for Venice. I have heard it said that the ride from Florence to Venice is the most disagreeable one in all Europe, and after making the trip I have not the least reason to dispute the assertion. 127 PENCIL SKETCHES, There are forty-eight tunnels, varying in length, the longest one being about nine miles in extent. These we have to pass through before the Apennines are crossed. It is like being shut up in a box without light or air until nearly suffocated, and then being ushered into the sunniest and most exhilarating air and charming mountain scenery one can imagine, only to be again plunged into darkness and stifling heat; which latter the engine belches forth as it pants and labors to draw its load up the steep ascent. But each glimpse we get of the beautiful homes ana farms — for these mountains are terraced to the very tops — ■ is like the dainty morsel taken after the bitter pill. At last we reach the summit of the Apennines. Brakes are ad- justed — there is no use for steam — and we begin a long coast down the opposite side, the cataracts, villages, herds of goats, and groups of merry children flying past us like birds on the wing. Late in the afternoon we arrive at a station and an unusual condition meets us. There is not a man, woman or child to be seen with the usual eatables or drinkables. We are nearly famished, and the minister leaves the car saying, "I will see what I can find." One of the party calls after him, "Bring anything that is wet." 128 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. Just as the car starts, he jumps aboard with one lone little innocent-looking straw-covered bottle in his hand, say- ing, "This is all I could find." It is a bottle of Florenza wine. This is the first time we have had the shadow of an excuse for partaking of the wine of this country ; as we have always found good water and plenty of ice, excepting on the cars. There was not enough in that little bottle hardly to moisten our throats, much less to make habitual drunkards of us all ; but to ease our consciences, this conversation takes place : The minister — Now, if I were at home, I would not do this ; not that I think it would harm me, but for the sake of the example. One of the party — No, indeed, nor I either. The minister — I know there in Paris it would have been very much better for me to have drank wine than water, but I would not do it, for the same reason. One of the party — Yes, I thought, myself, I should be obliged to take a little wine as a tonic, in order to be able to endure the sight-seeing, but I got along very nicely with- out it. So the little bottle is emptied and put away, to be kept as a souvenir. The rest of the journey is without interest, and at last we see the lights of Venice. 129 PENCIL SKETCHES, As we come out from the station we behold a fairy picture. Thousands of lights are reflected in the dark waters, and the gondolas are crowding up to the marble steps like so many graceful swans. We step into one, and with a few dips of the oar we are gliding quietly be- tween high buildings, turning sharp angles with nicety and precision, just missing boats or some building by a hair's breadth. We can but admire the skill of the gondolier. But this silently slipping through these watery streets at night, seems weird and unreal, and I pinch myself to be assured I am really not dreaming. But all too soon, our gondola stops before the Hotel Victoria, a beautiful and well-equipped house, and we go up into the sky to sleep. Veiva would say, to be tortured, to be roasted alive and then devoured by thousands of hungry mosquitoes. She would say the Roman flea is just a pleasing pastime when com- pared with these Venetian pests. I awake in the early twilight and look across Veiva's bed at the rosy tints of the morning sky. There is a living, moving halo over her head from which little particles dart down upon her face and hands in the most playful and affectionate way, and as she beats the air ana groans, this 130 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. halo moves higher up ; but it always returns, swaying and balancing itself into place again. ''Fair insect that, with thread-like legs spread out, And blood-extracting bill and filmy wing, Does murmur, as thou slowly sail'st about, In pitiless ears full many a plaintive thing, And tell how little our large veins would bleed, Would we but yield them to thy bitter need." 131 PENCIL SKETCHES, CHAPTER XVIII. Shops, Doge's Palack, St. Mark's. SIDE door of the Victoria leads mto one of the little streets of Venice, crowded with shops; and these shops are equally crowded with every conceivable article. Nowhere have we seen such rich and beautiful laces. The factory is nearby, where hundreds of women spend their lives working out these exquisite designs. Of course, we visit the glass works, where we enjoy seeing those rare and delicate colored vases fashioned, and are entertained and instructed some time in their p-reat storerooms, not only looking at the glass, but the wonderful carvings in wood. Here orders are filled and sent to all parts of the world. After spending some time in these places we call a scow and proceed to the Doge's Palace, near the Piazza San Marco. Nothing can be finer than the inner facade of the east wing of this palace. The Giants' Staircase received its name from the colossal statues of Mars and 132 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. Neptune, finished in 1566. On the landing at its head, the doges were crowned in ancient times. Our attention is called to two holes in the wall. These are where the lions' mouths had been ; where if any one desired to be rid of an enemy or rival, or even a friend, he could thrust his accusa- tion down the lion's mouth, and straightway the Council of Three, elected secretly by the Council of Ten and known by them only, would pass judgment, and the doomed victim, though, perhaps, innocent, passed over the Bridge of Sighs, never to be seen or heard from more. We visit the hall of the Council of Ten, splendidly decorated with magnificent paintings, also the hall of the Council of Three, where they met at midnight, dressed in their scarlet robes, to enact deeds too fiendish to be witnessed by God's sunlight. Passing along a corridor illustrated by Tintoretto, we make our exit through a massive door, and descend a dark and narrow stairway into the terrible dun- geons. Some have beds in them, consisting of slabs of stone, others nothing but the four walls and stone floors. If these walls could speak, what tales they could tell of lin- gering sufferings and despair. Then we go up and across the Bridge of Sighs, where the condemned passed for execution. In a narrow passage our guide shows us the holes in the walls where the guillotine was placed for secret 133 PENCIL SKETCHES, V executions, and we think how many were the poor victims who passed from here into eternity without even the sem- blance of a trial. Leaving these horrors, we seek respite by visiting St. Mark's. This church was founded in the ninth cen- tury. It is Byzantine in architecture, and is surmounted by five domes. The ground plan is in the form of a Greek cross. Its decorations are com- posed of the richest mosaics, panels and statuary from different countries, and there are at least five hundred beautiful marble col- umns. On the gallery, above the central door, are the four bronze horses said to have decorated Trojan's triumphal arch at Rome. These horses had been carried from one city to another by conquerors, but were at last restored to Venice in 1816, and placed where they now are. And here they ought to remain; for, surely, if Venice cannot have the real article, she should have, at least, the semblance. Hundreds of her people have never seen a horse, save these bronze ones. The high altar stands under a canopy of verd-antique supported by four columns of Greek marble, remarkable 134 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. for the workmanship of the numerous scenes deeply sculp- tured on them. Behind the altar, which is said to contain the bones of St. Mark, is the celebrated Pala d'ora, a rich altar-piece of gold and silver plate, ornamented with gems, enamels and cameos ; a curious and splendid specimen of art. Still back of this are more of the alabaster spiral columns from Solomon's Temple. Our eyes are tired, our minds can grasp no more ; so we go out into St. Mark's Square and watch the pigeons, which seem numberless. People buy corn at the little stalls and feed them, while they alight on one's head, hands, or any- where they can cling. It was an ancient custom, on Easter day to set free from the gallery of St. Mark's, a number of small birds and pigeons. These taking refuge in the cornices around the square, remained there, and thence spread all over Venice. St. Mark's Square is very large and beautiful, and is surrounded by most magnificent buildings. As the wonderful clock in the tower near St. Mark's tells the hour, two large bronze figures of men on an opposite building swing ponderous hammers, striking the immense bell, which is between them. We lunch to-day at Florian's handsome cafe, which has not been closed, day or night, for more than three hundred years. Palms and flowers are everywhere, and we feel that we are in a perfect fairy bower. 135 PENCIL SKETCHES, CHAPTER XIX. A Ride: on the Grand Canal. ROM the deck of one of the small steamers which ply on the Grand Canal, we have a fine view of the stately old palaces of Venice. I feel that I want to be alone, and think and dream. For- tunately I secure a seat in the bow of the boat, and now be- gins a panorama which Hopkinson Smith has not exagger- ated in his various paintings; neither could any painter do so. For beauty of domestic architecture, it is said Venice ranks before any other city in the world. The most beau- tiful palaces from as early as the eleventh century still exist, and externally are in a very perfect state of preservation. The coloring is unique, as many of the palaces are faced with beautifully colored oriental marbles and enriched with bands and panels of delicate carvings. We pass the mag- nificent church Madona della Salute, built of white marble 136 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. and heavily decorated with statuary, and we try to imagine the appearance of this canal on Sabbath morning, all alive with the gondolas of the wealthy, wtfi their richly dressed occupants on their way to worship. Farther on we come to a palace on the front of which is an immense picture in glass mosiacs, with a background covering nearly the whole front, of gold mosiac. The bright coloring of the draperies not only at the windows, but on balconies, together with flowers and vines, which over- hang the water, enlivened by daintily dressed ladies and children, and all reflected back by the water, complete a picture which once seen can never be forgotten. A gondola rocks and tilts in front of a stately palace, and as a fairy-like creature trips down the steps and settles herself among the silken cushions and adjusts the heavy lace curtains, our imagination again comes to our aid and we hear her say to her gondolier: "Down past the Rialto to the shops near St. Mark's." Where she flits from one shop to another, buying a piece of silk here, and a bit of lace there, and a few strings of those lovely Roman pearls at another place. So she goes on having loads of goods pulled down for her inspection. Her coachman is not 137 PENCIL SKETCHES, obliged to drive his restless steeds up and down the avenue for hours ; but the soothing- motion of his boat lulls him to sleep and he dreams of his sweetheart who, in the great hall of the palace he left, in her dainty cap and frills is kept busy receiving parcels from a veritable fleet of scows. We like to think of these things, for they remind us of home Haven't we passed right by a Reubens, Titian or Tintoretto, to pat the great cat that lay curled up in one of the cathedral chairs, just because it looked like home? When one dines at the Victoria, he has his choice of sitting out on the great open veranda among the flowers, or in the dining hall, whose walls and ceiling are draped with some airy material which, in color, harmonizes with the many tints of the great and elaborate chandeliers of Venetian glass. The same kind of glass sparkles on the tables and buffets ; and when they serve us with the minia- ture mountains of colored gelatine, capped with snowy whip- ped cream, it seems almost as though we were to be fed with the same material. We are refreshed, and prepare to leave Venice, but we must have a ride on the Grand Canal when all is gay. So we arrange for a gondola, there being ample time before our train leaves. 133 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. CHAPTER XX An Evening in a Gondola. HO does not appreciate, when leaving a place where he has had 'a happy time, having the whole household come to the door and out on the steps, to see him off and wish him God- speed? They do that in this country. So all these people who have served us in any way, whether by word, look or deed, are interested in us as we are leaving, and they line themselves up along the corridor and follow us to the door. Our gondola is ready, we step in and start, but stop ; we have forgotten the little bell boy, who sits perched on the top step, looking, in his scarlet and gilt livery, not much larger than a big cock robin. A coin is thrown, but it misses its mark and drops into the water. A moment's flutter, a splash, and he holds it up and smiles and bows as gracefully as a circusman when he has performed some daring feat. Our gondolier is in evening attire, with snowy trowsers and blouse, with scarlet silk collar and sash, the latter with 139 PENCIL SKETCHES, heavy gilt fringe across the ends and tied in a most artistic way. The gondola is about thirtv feet long, the bow and stern curving up out of the water. The gondolier stands a. on the stern, and the graceful - r :M^\ swaying of his body as he noise- "fffsfe* l^ssly P ue s his one oar, seen against j the twilight sky, or dark water, forms a picture that will long re- main in memory's gallery. Now, in the mellow, golden twilight, we see the Venice of old. The musty, dingy palaces, with their broken statues, are transformed, and she looks as proud and autocratic as when her ships controlled the seas and her commerce was looked upon with envy by other nations. Phantoms of the past seem to lurk in and flit through every watery high- way, and we dream that we are living in the golden days of her old magnificence. From a high balcony of a palace comes a flood of light and such a voice as one hears but seldom in a lifetime, so powerful, yet so pure and liquid. And as we glide farther away, we hear another voice singing a most difficult selec- tion and soon a mass of colored lanterns appears in the middle of the canal, where, upon a flat-boat large enough for singers, piano and orchestra, a prima donna is charming an audience, 140 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. seated in their unstable boxes, but with the whole star-lit heavens for a canopy. Now from the distance a man's voice mingles and blends with hers, and as their voices rise and fall, it seems as though the very air throbs and vi- brates with the cadence, and we think, surely this is an enchanted place! From the sublime to the ridiculous, we are suddenly brought down. The bathers come down the marble steps and plunge into the canal, one after another, until, perhaps, fifteen or twenty black heads are seen above the water. They swim very rapidly, keeping up with our boat for a time, singing some Italian melody. As we glide through this broad avenue with its watery lawns, the words of Longfellow are recalled to mind : "White swan of cities, slumbering in thy nest, So wonderfully built among the reeds of the lagoon That fences thee and feeds, so sayest thy old historians and their guests, White' water lily, cradled and caressed by ocean streams, And from the silt and weeds lifting their golden filia- ments and seeds, Thy sun illuminated spire, thy crown and crest ! White phantom city, whose untrodden streets are rivers And whose pavements are the shifting shadows of pal- aces and strips of sky, I wait to see thee vanish like the fleet seen in mirage Or towers of cloud uplifting in air their unsubstantial masonry.'' But all things must come to an end. Our boat grates on the steps of the station and we say good night and good bye to Venice. 141 PENCIL SKETCHES. CHAPTER XXL Milan Cathedral, Lombardy and the Alps. E arrive in Milan in the early morning and find that by staying over trains we can have ample time to visit the great Duomo. The other mem- bers of our party, not caring to visit the cathe- dral, leave for Lucerne. After disposing of our baggage, Veiva and I take a tram car and ride to the cathedral, which is situated in the center of the town. In front of it is the largest square Milan can boast of, Piazza del Duomo, surrounded by quite modern- looking buildings. Among them are the royal and arch- bishop's palaces. This square contains some very fine monuments, but we have eyes only for this wonderful struc- ture, the cathedral, with its hundreds of spires piercing the morning sky. In the sunshine, every spire is tipped with a statue of gold, and besides, thousands of statues are look- ing out from openings in these hollow steeples. In the front of the Dasilica are five great doors, the central one being surrounded by elaborate carvings in 142 Can it be that I am dreaming? Or do I now behold This mighty marble giant, Bathed in the purest gold ? Or is it some fairy vision That will vanish from my sight? Or spars of a fleet cf phantom ships As seen in the clouds at night ? Mf LAN CA THE ORAL. It may be a vision of splendor. To help me to understand The words of my Lord and Master When He dwelt upon the land. And talked with Mis disciples Of the mansions He'd prepare: Mansions transcendent in splendor, So bright is the glory there. OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. marble. As we gaze at this great marble giant, so mam- moth, yet so graceful in every outline, we are charmed by its beauty and awed by its grandeur. Although it is not seven o'clock in the morning, the doors are open. We go inside and wander about among its tombs. To the right of the entrance is the tomb of Archbishop Heribert, the champion of Milanese liberty, and next to that is the tomb of Otho Visconti, founder of that fam- ily as a reigning house. This cathedral was begun under Gian Galeazzo Visconti, in 1386, and is built of marble from the quarries he donated for that purpose. New stat- ues are constantly being added. The roof is supported by fifty-two columns with canopied niches for statues instead of capitals. The windows contain brilliantly painted glass, casting a rich but subdued tone over every object. There are also choice paintings and exquisite mosaics. Under the dome in a crypt, lies the embalmed body of Saint Carlo Borromeo, worshiped for his good deeds during the great famine and plague of 1579. The body is in a silver sarcophagus faced with rock crystal as trans- parent as air. There are a few hundred people away down the main nave near an altar, and they look like small child- ren, so great is the distance. There are also people passing through a large door at one side, and we make our way 143 PENCIL SKETCHES, there and follow the crowd down a broad and beautiful staircase into the crypt of the church. At first we can only go down a few steps. We are very im- polite, and crowd and elbow our way a little farther, for we think these people can see this church any Sabbath morning, but this is our first and possibly our only oppor- tunity, so we crowd a little farther until we look down on the vast throng filling this great room to its utmost capaci- ty. Then we gaze at the ceiling and walls, and as far as the eye can penetrate there is one mass of sculptured marble, representing fruits, flowers and vines, so perfect and so graceful that one ceases to wonder that it has taken centuries to give birth to this wonderful and beautiful struc- ture. By the way, if we see people crowding and pushing, and insisting, we know that they are from America ; for the people of these countries take plenty of time for everything. We learn that there is a funeral ceremony taking place, and conjecture it must be some prominent person, to call forth such a multitude as is here gathered. Returning to the Piazza del Duomo, we look long and admiringly again at the exterior of this marvelous building, for never will we see anything, built by human hands, more beautiful. Someone has very appropriately said: "It is an anthem sung in stone, a poem wrought in marble." 144 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. We return to the station, our ride, sight-seeing and all having cost us just two cents apiece. While that funeral was, without doubt, a misfortune to the people of Milan, it was a source of economy to us. We were neglected and left to wander about the church and enjoy its magnificence without even being given the opportunity to contribute to its maintenance, but, respecting their sorrow, we freely for- gave the slight. We procure a nice luncheon to take on the train, and return for our baggage, consisting of two suit cases besides other packages. We are charged by the baggagemaster the enormous sum of five centimes, (one cent). I gave him five times that amount, and if I had increased it ten fold, he might have felt, for once in his life, like an Amer- can. And yet tourists and guide books tell us that this is a country of thieves, robbers and extortionists. The lake district of Italy, lying between the glaciers of the high Alps and the sunny plains of Lombardy, is a region of sunshine, where the vegetation of the chilly North and luxuriant South meet and mingle. As we pass, all too rapidly, through this charming garden, we look with delight into the glassy waters of these beautiful lakes, reflecting the smiling blue skies, all of which is soon to be supplanted by frowning chasms, precipitous heights and 145 PENCIL SKETCHES, glimpses of glaciers. Wild waterfalls descend from dizzy heights, being converted into mist before reaching the val- ley below and looking like a sheer veil of illusion. Here and there, we see villages nestling on the moun- tain's side, and roads which look as though coils of ribbon unloosed were thrown to shape themselves as they may. At a small station, Swiss peasants come aboard the train with hands and baskets filled with flowers and mountain strawberries, still wet with the morning dew and rich with fragrance. They tell us by gestures that they gathered them high up on the mountain side, and kindly contribute to our collection of specimens. Farther on, Altdorf, away among the mountains, is pointed out to us as the birthplace of William Tell. At Altdorf the hat was raised upon the pole, and the famous arrow was shot from the cross-bow, the story of which will be told by all future generations ; and this legend is William Tell's best monument. After a charming ride of six hours from Milan, over and through the very heart of the moun- tains of the St. Gotthard road, we arrive at Fluelen. This town is full of life and bustle. Steamers are coming and going every hour, bringing and taking away passengers, from all nations. We go aboard one of these boats and start for Lucerne. 146 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. CHAPTER XXII. Lucerne — The Lake and City. "Yonder lies The Lake of the Four Forest Town, apparelled In light; and lingering like a village maiden, Hid in the bosom of her native mountains, Then pouring all her life into another's, Changing her name and being." — Longfellozc. HREE hours of unalloyed bliss ! three hours to commune with nature, God's handiwork ot majesty and grandeur, as we glide over the trans- parent waters of Lake Lucerne. And whether our eyes rest on this liquid mirror, as bright as burnished silver, or on the landscape, we see the grand old monarchs with snowy heads looking down over the tops of their smal- ler companions, which are robed from head to foot in the brighest of emerald verdure, and are dotted here and there with the most artistic homes we have yet seen, the Swiss chalets. The white buildings of the villages nestling at 147 PENCIL SKETCHES, the feet of the mountains, gleam in the sunlight, reminding one of nests that are cradled and protected by the forest trees. After feasting our eyes on this grandeur, we turn our attention, for a time at least, to those about us. Several of the peasants on board are in holiday attire, which is very beautiful and picturesque, and a group of them charm and entertain us with their songs. All too soon we see the towers and pointed turrets of Lucerne, between Rigi and Pilatus. These mountains look like two mighty sentinels keeping guard over this lovely siren, who smiles and beck- ons as she plays the coquette with her own image, reflected from the crystal waters of the lake. Had we come upon this scene four hundred years ago, when Lucerne was called the "wooden stork," town, be- cause those birds made their nests on the roofs of the houses, which were built of wood and straw, what a dif- ferent picture we would have seen. Then we could have walked through the new covered bridge, Kapellbrucke, which crosses the river Reuss diagonally, as this bridge was built only one hundred and sixty-eight years before. The one hundred and twenty-one triangular paintings, placed at regular intervals beneath the roof, celebrating the heroic deeds of the old Switzers, were then bright with 148 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. fresh paint from the artist's brush, but today they are dim and faded. In the middle of this bridge stands the octagon- al tower Wassertrum. It was used as a treasure house and a prison in those ancient days. It also is said to have contained the torture chamber. The municipal archives are now preserved here. As we saunter through this long bridge, we are its only occupants, for now the splendid new Seebrucke bridge is the greater attraction for the pedestrian. The old wood and straw buildings are replaced by magnificent edifices, grand hotels and palatial residences of marble. Along the Reuss is the Lucerne that has experienced the vicissitudes of the centuries. The wooden bridge and the Musegg, surmounted by their nine gray towers, give the town an antique appearance despite the modern and fine buildings. Crossing the Seebrucke we reach the Quay with its shady avenues. This is the famous promenade of the fashionable visitors of Lucerne, and especially toward even- ing it presents an exceedingly gay appearance. For here is mingled the wealth, culture and aristocracy of not only Europe, but America as well. While these things delight us, our eyes are ever returning to the long line of snowy peaks stretching away on either side of the lake. Although Lucerne is so charming and beautiful, there are days at a 149 PENCIL SKETCHES. time when the mountains are veiled in mist and tourists find only disappointment if they ascend their dizzy heights. We go on board the boat bound for Mount Rigi, but the threatening sky induces us to return to the town, and in the shops of Alpenstrasse during a very severe storm, we revel among the wonderful carvings in wood and ivory with which they are filled. And as if to compensate us for our disappointment in not being able to visit the Rigi, we are directed to Meyers Diorama of Alpine views. Enter- ing this panorama, we seem to be suddenly transported to the summit of the Rigi, or Pilatus. We look down the long slopes of the mountain on which we seem to stand and away on to the distant peaks and glaciers, and cannot tell where the natural leaves off and the artificial begins. To those who have not seen a sunset from either of these moun- tains, this counterfeit is so real that he will always carry with him the impression that he has actually stood on the mountain top and watched the sun descend, dyeing every cloud and mountain peak with crimson and gold. Not very far from this building is the beautiful garden of the Lion of Lucerne, in which grow magnificent trees and flowers. There is a crystal sheet of water back of which a rock rises perpendicularly sixty feet high. In a dark recess lies the wounded lion defending, even in death, 150 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. the shield and golden lilies. This colossal masterpiece was modeled by Thorwaldsen and sculptured by Ahorn of Constance, in 1821. It commemorates the death of the Swiss guards who fell on that fated tenth of August, 1792, while defending the royal family of France. An inscription was placed over it more than fifty years ago : "Helvetiorum fidei ac vistuti" ("To the valor and fidelity of the Swiss.") with the names underneath of those who fell in defence of ?' H ? % the Tuilleries. ty % Toward evening we visit the Hofkirche of St. Leode- gar, the principal catholic church of Lucerne, which is replete with history. The beautiful carved choir stalls and wonderful wrought iron screens, besides the magnificent woodcarvings dating back from the fifteenth century, are still perfect and are intensely interesting. Every week ${ day evening, from half past six to half past seven o'clock., jj there is an organ recital here, when the wonderful instru- •fo- ment, with its ninety stops, may be enjoyed by lovers of music. A s 1 151 PENCIL SKETCHES, CHAPTER XXIII. The Glacier Garden, A Restful Villa, On to Mayence. "Look what streaks Do lace the severing clouds in younder east ; Night's tapers are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops." — Shakespeare. E have witnessed the most severe thunder storm that the "oldest inhabitants" of Lucerne remem- ber ever having seen, and now the splendors of a radiant morning burst on the mountains, lake and town. The sky, as though repentant of her anger and tears, looks down with beaming smile, and nature, still trembling and wet with the glistening drops, lifts her blushing face to receive the kiss of peace. The Glacier Gardens are a most wonderful and inter- esting natural phenomenon. While excavations were being made for a house about thirty years ago, nine pot holes of an ancient glacier were discovered. The largest of them is thirty-one feet deep and twenty-six feet across. These 152 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. were evidently hollowed out in prehistoric times by the water, which found its way through the fissures of the glaciers and turned the stones on the rocks with a rotary motion until the deep holes were worn, leaving the stones in deep hollows when the glaciers receded. There is one active at the present time, and, passing through a tunnel in the rock, we look up through an opening where the water passes through. In this cavity is a most brilliant light, of peacock blue. They teli us the reason of this cannot be explained. Passing through the musuem, where we enjoy seeing many marvelous curiosities, w T e follow a path, winding up the mountain side, until we come to a mountaineer's cottage. One room contains everything he possesses for his comfort and convenience, viz. a little box stove, teapot, coffeepot, plate, cup, spoon, knife and fork, table, stool and couch. On the wall hangs a pair of boots, with nails in the soles for climbing. There are also a staff, gun and pow- der horn. This cottage and furnishings tells its own story of the lives of hundreds of brave and hardy mountaineers, who know few of the comforts of civilization. They spurn those comforts that they may brave the frost and storm to rescue and save the lives of their flocks, which are as dear to them as their own. 153 PENCIL SKETCHES, We climb up, up, across rustic bridges, through wind- ing paths to an observatory where, if one drops a dime into a slot he can view the surrounding country through a tele- scope. This is the most American of anything we have seen in this country. But, alas, not a dime have we in our possession! So, after enjoying this most delightful view without the aid of the instrument, we retrace our steps, fol- lowing side paths that lead into most enchanting nooks, where are little cottages nestling on the mountain side, and buildings containing groups of Alpine animals, tastefully arranged. This must be a fairy-like spot on pleasant even- ings when bright with electric lights. "Above me are the Alps, The palaces of nature, whose vast walls Have pinnacled in clouds their snowy scalps, And throned Eternity in icy halls Of cold sublimity, where forms and falls The avalanche — the thunderbolt of snow." — Byron The charming walks around Lucerne are numberless, they tell us. One we especially enjoy. Taking a tram, we ride along north of the lake at the foot of the mountains, to where the car stops. The scenery is so beautiful we are lured farther and farther along. A cool and shady avenue leads into a thicket of trees, and in its windings the 154 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. highway is lost to view. I always have a strong desire when I see a road like this, to know what is beyond. While I am trying to curb my curiosity a lady comes along the road, and I ask if these are private grounds. In very broken English she replies, "It is my home; will you come and walk in the grounds?" This she says in such a cordial manner we could not refuse, had we the least desire to do so. She leads the way through the winding driveway, overhung with the branches of trees, to a lovely white villa, such as the banks of Lake Lucerne are dotted with. With evident pride she shows us her five beautiful children. After spending some time in the garden, she leads the way to the shore of the lake, where are the bath and boat houses, and seats us upon a rustic bench near the water, commanding a most exquisite view of the towns and mountains along the lake. She then excuses herself, as some duty claims her at- tention, and says, as she bids us good bye, "Remain here as long as you wish and then go wherever you like and enjoy the grounds." Never will we forget that quiet hour, after the constant whirl and rush of travel and sightseeing. Neither the one who permitted us to enjoy it. Here in this secluded spot, the silence broken only by the singing of the birds and the 155 PENCIL SKETCHES, low splash and murmur of the waves as they break on the shore and recede, and these sounds mingled with the sweet- est music on earth, the rippling laughter of children at play, the symphony created is so merry yet so soothing, we are lulled into restfulness. How happy those whose lot it is to stay here among these mountains for weeks! Months could not exhaust the sights and wonders of this picturesque land. But we must away for the Rhine. The ride from Lucerne to Mayence is mostly through a very beautiful and fertile farming country. The people do their work in quite a primitive way, using the ox instead of the horse, the scythe in place of the mowing machine, the sickle instead of the reaper. It is the opinion of some that they had better come to America and learn how to do things right. It recalls to my mind a picture which has hung in memory's hall for many years, but, covered and hidden by the veil of oleasures and cares of life, has been somewhat dimmed. With one sweep of thought, the dust is cleared away and it stands out real and distinct. I see again a large field of waving grass, and in the midst is a strong man, who swings his scythe with steady and vigorous strokes, leaving behind him a swath as true as a sea wave's crest. Some distance away under a spreading tree are two 156 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. little maids, barefooted and brown, with their natty pink sun bonnets thrown back on their shoulders. They weave garlands of the daisies and butter- cups they have gathered in the high grass. The strong man stops work for a moment to wipe the drops of sweat from his handsome brow, and sends a cheery shout across the billowy waves of grass. The two little maids laugh and lift the cover of the ample basket and peep in at the goodies which the dear wife and mother has so lovingly prepared for them. The sun shines and the birds sing. The picture is complete. I look again, but the picture now is somewhat marred. The sun shines just as brightly, the birds sing just as sweet- ly, but a shadow rests upon the scene. The strong man seems a little stooped, and his scythe moves more slowly as he presses on in his task. The large tree spreads its branches just the same, but only one little maid is there, and the flowers she has gathered lie withering by her side. Her little companion has left her for even a brighter world than this, but she lives on, and to-day this question comes to her as she gazes upon this landscape, and these peasants, dressed in their simple costumes, at their work: "In the onward march of science and invention, has not much of the 157 PENCIL SKETCHES, simple pleasure and enjoyment of a more primitive life been swept away, for which there has been no adequate compensation ?" Late in the afternoon, as we halt at a station, the con- ductor comes along and looks at our tickets, and says some- thing in German and points out of the window. Not un- derstanding the language we are just as wise as though he had not said anything. A young French gentleman sitting opposite us, who speaks a very little English, looks at our tickets and tries to enlighten us, but without success. He is quite social and makes us understand that he is a brother- in-law of the French minister to Holland, also that he owns a million dollars worth of property in South America. So entertaining is he that our tickets are forgotten, though evidently designating a change of cars ; for when we stop at a station farther on, he again points out of the window in a hurried and excited manner. We look out, but not seeing anything unusual, coolly keep our seats. In an instant his hat is on and he has our suit cases one in either hand, and makes a grand rush out of the car. We bring up the rear in a very unready-like manner. He fairly flies along the pavement into a building, down a flight of steps, through a long corridor, up another flight and we after him, just in time to catch the train which is ready to pull out. 158 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. We hardly have enough breath to express our thanks for his kindness. I have quite an elastic imagination, but stretch it as I may, I cannot quite conceive of an American millionaire so interesting himself in a couple of travel-stained foreign- ers as to risk the chance of missing his own train to assist them to catch theirs. We arrive in Mayence in the evening in company with a jolly old judge from Marietta, Ohio, whom we met on the train. For want of better company, he was carrying on a conversation with himself, or, perhaps, practicing a lit- tle for fear he might forget his mother tongue. Hearing him speak, I turned, with the usual salute, "Can you speak English?" Looking up quickly, he said, in his gruff way, "Well, I can't speak anything else." We find him a very pleasant traveling companion, and he gives us news of our acquaintances whom he met on the voyage coming over. Here in Mayence, we find our friends who left us at Milan, also several who were with us on the St. Louis. 159 PENCIL SKETCHES, CHAPTER XXIV. The Rhine and its Legends. "Bora where blooms the Alpine rose, Cradled in the Boden see — Forth the infant river flows, Leaping on in childish glee, Coming to a riper age, He crowns his rocky cup with wine, And makes a gallant pilgrimage To many a ruined tower and shrine." N ideal day for an ideal trip on the clear, green waters of the Rhine. This stream takes on, at different stages of its course, the characters of the torrent, gulf, lake, sluggish river and marsh. Probably no spot on earth is so rich in legendary lore or so suggestive of poetry, especially to the German heart, as this river and the surrounding country. From Mayence to Bingen the banks are dotted with pretty villages, and beyond these, rich and fertile plains stretch far away as if to say to the river, "There is plenty of room. Occupy all you 1 60 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. wish." At Bingen, the rocky cliffs rise up disputing its rights, and turning it from its course they crowd it until they compress it into a narrow channel. And so closely do these hills abut on the river that there is scarcely room for a highway along its banks. From Mayence to Koenigswinter is the most historic, the most poetic, the most picturesque part of the Rhine. At every turn there comes in view some ancient castle crowning the top of a rocky crag, or hill, whose sloping sides are cov- ered with luxuriant vineyards, and at whose feet, as if seeking protection, nestles some village or hamlet. Here the fisherman mends his net in his boat, and the merry voices of children ring out in play on the bank, while the good wife in the cottage sings at her work. How we long to stop and visit some of these old ruined castles and go still farther away, over beyond the hills. For we know that the foot traveler stum- bles onto many an ancient and ivy-covered ruin, each one of them having some strange legend which makes it doubly interesting. Near Bingen, in the middle of the Rhine, is an old castle called Mausethrum, or the Rat, and its legend is strange and weird. It runs like this: "Once upon a time there lived in Mayence a cruel and miserly archbishop, 161 PENCIL SKETCHES, named Hatto, who was lavish with his blessings, but chary with his gifts. One bad harvest he purchased all the corn, so as to be able to sell it again at a high price. At length the famine became so great that the peasants along the Rhine were starving for lack of bread. They assembled in Mayence and, weeping, demanded corn. This the arch- bishop refused to give them. They persistently surround- ed the palace uttering frightful groans and cries. This annoyed Hatto and he commanded his officers to seize men, women and children and shut them up in a granary 10 which he set fire. "Hatto laughed and said : 'Hear the rats squeal,' as he heard their screams. "But lo ! from the ashes of the granary sprang millions of rats, rilling the town, swarming the streets, the citadel, the palace. Every niche was alive with them. Hatto in despair, quitted Mayence and fled to the plains, but the rats followed him there. He shut himself up in Bingen, which was surrounded by a wall but they crept under the walls. Then the frantic bishop caused a tower to be built in the middle of the river, for refuge, but thousands of rats swam across, climbed up the tower, gnawed the doors, win- dows and ceilings and at last reached the place where the wicked Hatto was hidden and devoured him." 162 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. Now the old castle is deserted and crumbling into ruin. Sometimes now, they say there is a red vapor issu- ing from it, resembling the smoke of a furnace. The soul of Hatto, no doubt, still hovers over the place. It adds much to our enjoyment to read these strange legends, which have been told from generation to genera- tion for many centuries. So, for the day, we will indulge in the fancy that those mysterious creatures which peopled these legends really did exist. The very air we breathe seems laden with the atomic deities or sylphs who, seen in the night, assume bodies by no means void of grace and beauty. While in the deep green waters, Nixens and Undines, the restless souls of poor girls who, driven to despair by love, have thrown themselves into the river, hold their court, presided over by the great Nichus. And the wind whispers in our ears its own tales of marvelous adventure. In Germany the wind was not deified as in Rome, but the poets gave Master Wind an important place. I copy a ballad from "Myths of the Rhine." "Gretchen, the miller's daughter was courted by the son of the king. Her father, the miller, knowing that kings' sons are not apt to marry, had chosen her a husband, a voimg: flour merchant from Rotterdam. '£> ■63 PENCIL SKETCHES, "The Dutchman was on his way up the Rhine; that very evening he was expected to arrive to make his pro- posals. "Gretchen called upon Master Wind to help her; he came in by the window, but not without breaking a num- ber of panes. " 'What do you wish me to do ?' " 'A man wants to marry me against my will; he is com- ing in a sail boat; contrive it so that he cannot land at Bingen.' "The wind blew and blew so well that the boat, instead of coming up to Bingen, was driven back again as far as Rotterdam. "At Rotterdam also it could not make land; it was driven into the North Sea and there the Dutchman is per- haps still sailing about at this day. "But Master Wind had made his conditions before he went to work to blow so well; and the miller's pretty daughter had agreed to them without hearing them, for all around her the furniture, the doors, and the blinds were shaking and rattling furiously, thanks to her visitor. Thus it came about that poor Gretchen found herself betrothed to Master Wind, which made her very sad, for now she had less hope than ever of marrying the king's son. 164 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. "However, Master Wind was as gallant towards his fair betrothed as he could be. Every morning when she opened her window, he would throw her beautiful bouquets of flowers which he had torn off in the neighboring gardens. "If any young man of the village whom she had re- jected passed without saluting her, Master Wind was promptly at hand to carry off his hat and send it up in the air until soon it looked no bigger than a lark. It was well for him that Master Wind did not, with the hat, take his head off at the same time. "One day (when Master Wind must have been asleep), the king's son came to the mill, made his way without diffi- culty to Gretchen's chamber and forthwith desired to kiss her. Gretchen did not object. But at once and although out of doors all was quiet, the tables and chairs performed a wild dance, and the doors and windows began to slam as if they had been mad. "Gretchen herself began to twirl around and around in the most unaccountable manner. Her hair was loosed by an invisible hand and whisked about her head with strange rustling and dismal whistling. "Terrified by the sight of a tempest in a close room, the prince cried : ' Ah ! accursed one, you are the betrothed of Master Wind !' 165 PENCIL SKETCHES, "And at the same moment a terrible gust of wind car- ried off the king's son, the miller's daughter and the mill, and no one ever saw or heard anything more of them." Perhaps they went to join the Dutchman, who was all this time sailing about in the North Sea, or the hat which was still on its way in the clouds. The legend does not tell us whether it was before or after this occurrence that Master Wind married Mistress Rain. We pass the rock of Lorelei, or Lurley, celebrated for its beautiful echo, which repeats the sound five times, and a company on board sing the song of Heine, "Ich weiss nicht was, soil es bedeuten," "(I do not know what it presages.)" After leaving St. Goar behind, a turn in the river brings us in sight of Brauback castle perched high on a rocky crag, and its legend runs like this : "Count Herman von Filsen, whose estate lay on the right bank of the Rhine, between Oster Spei and Brauback, was about to marry the rich heiress of the castle of Rheins, on the other bank. His messenger had started to carry the letters of invitation to all the guests, but a sudden rise of the water had nearly prevented his crossing a small stream. In trying to get over his horse stumbled and was drowned. The messenger, however, did not lose courage, but went 1 66 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. on his way on foot. Everywhere he found the brooks swollen into streams and the torrents seemed to press him more and more closely, describing curves and zigzags, with countless obstacles barring the way on all sides and making the usual path impassable. "By the aid of a huge stick, and jumping from rock to rock the poor, half bewildered man kept on, walking well- nigh at haphazard, till he found himself near the Rhine, into which the swollen torrent rushing after him with sud- den fury, seemed determined to push him. Fortunately a small boat was lying quite near the shore. He loosed it, took the oars and returned to Filsen. "When he reached the castle, he said to the count : 'Sir a nix has barred me the way.' "The count did not believe in nixen. He sent out another messenger, but the same adventure befell him. "The wedding day had been fixed and the count went on, although he feared his friends and followers would be few in number. One morning as he crossed the river from the right bank to the left, in order to pay a visit to his lady love, a sudden tempest broke out. He thought he saw a pale form arising from the water, bending over the bow of the boat and trying to draw it down into the abyss beneath the waters. Thereupon he became thoughtful, sent 167 PENCIL SKETCHES, for his steward and advised him to find out what had be- come of a certain girl of the neighborhood, Gottfried, from Brauback. " 'I met her a few days ago,' replied the steward, 'as she was going to St. Mark's chapel, and I offered her holy- water. Gottfried asked me about your approaching wed- ding. She was very well and seemed to be in good spirits.' " 'Go and see if you can find her,' said the count, 'and bring me word.' "During the wedding feast, Herman von Filsen ap- peared joyous and attentive to his bride, the new countess, but the effort to appear so caused his perspiration to break out profusely, especially when all of a sudden a small woman's foot, white and delicate, appeared to his eyes, and to his only, on the ceiling of the dinner hall. "He felt a chill in all his limbs. He rose suddenly and fled to another room, followed by his wife, his mother and all the guests, who thought he had been seized with sudden illness. "In his room he saw, and he alone again saw, a white hand raise a curtain and with the forefinger beckon him to follow. "Long time ago Herman had heard, without paying any attention at that time to the statement, that such a 1 68 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. small white foot and a small white hand indicated the presence of an Undine, and the coming of an inevitable calamity. Now he believed it. The bishop who had per- formed the marriage ceremony was at the dinner. Herman went straight up to him, knelt down and confessed aloud and with tears, that a young girl named Gottfried, fairer and better than all her sisters, had loved him dearly and he had returned her love and then abandoned her. Gottfried had sought oblivion of her sufferings in the river, and now was bent upon revenge. " 'Bless me, father, for I am going to die !' "The bishop, before uttering the words of absolution, demanded first that the count should abjure his impious faith in such supernatural beings, of whom the church knew nothing. " 'How can I refuse to believe what I see ? There she is! Looking as pale as she was this morning at the bow of the boat. Her hair, full of green grass, is hanging in disorder all over her shoulders, she looks at me with a tear- ful smile.' " 'Nothing but visions,' replies the bishop. 'Your eyes deceive you/ " 'But it is not only by my eyes I am aware of her presence, I hear her voice ; she is calling me. Forgive me Gottfried.' 169 PENCIL SKETCHES, " 'You are out of your mind ! These are the devil's snares ! And who tells you that the girl has ceased to live ? That she has committed a crime? Thanks be to God, Gott- fried came to me; she confessed to me penitently, and now is in a convent!' "At this moment the assembly, already deeply excited, was somewhat startled by the entrance of the steward, who looked terrified, went up to the count's mother and whis- pered some words into her ear. She could not repress a cry. " 'Dead !' she said. ' 'Yes, she is dead, and I also must die !' cried Herman in accents of despair. "The young bride, offended at this avowal of a previous attachment, had at first stood aloof; now, consulting her own heart alone she thought of contesting the right of this invisible rival, and with open arms drew near the count, but he pushed her aside rudely. "The bishop began his exorcisms. While he was re peating the prescribed words, the count asked : 'What do you want of me, Gottfried? Forgive me and we will all pray for you. You are weeping and kissing me by turns, but your kisses are nothing but bitterness and sorrow to me, since I have given my name to another, since another is my ' 170 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. "He could not complete the sentence. Uttering a sharp cry, he fell at full length to the ground, and on his neck appeared a long bluish mark, such as is seen on strangled persons." It is interesting to watch the huge rafts of timber we pass on our way down the river. Although not as large as they formerly made them, we are informed, still we think a raft four or five hundred feet long is quite a sight. It takes two hundred men and sometimes more to navigate it. They have their little city of huts on the raft, not a miniature Venice, but then it is a home where these men live from two to six weeks at a time. At Dart, the rafts are broken up and sold, some of them bringing more than thirty thousand pounds, or nearly $150,000. We are now in the district where the finest wines are made. Rhine grapes are for sale on the boat. They are not as large as those of Eschol, but they are the largest grapes we ever saw, and the highest priced, also, being one dollar a bunch. We will not indulge, but deny our stomachs and add to our collection of souvenir spoons. Bonn is of interest to us, being the birthplace of Beethoven. Indeed, every mile of the way is fraught with interest, and we would like to know the history of this stream, for to know that, would be to know the history of nearly all western Europe. 171 PENCIL SKETCHES, I have heard it remarked that the Germans in their own country do not drink as Americans do, but sit a long time by their glasses and sip their beer. Today we have watched with some amusement, a very striking example of their customs. Not very far from us at a table on the deck of the steamer, a party of four, two men and two women, have sat by their glasses all day, but I think I am safe in saying that the contents of those glasses have been changed at least every fifteen minutes. They must have sampled every variety of wine made in this country and these were sand- wiched with lager beer. At Coblenz, their faces were flushed, at Bonn, they were scarlet and when we reached our destination, Cologne, they did not seem to care a whit whether it was Cologne or attar of roses. 172 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. CHAPTER XXV. Cologne, Back to London. ATE in the afternoon we reach Cologne, and pro- ceed at once to our hotel. We make a hasty toilet and repair to the dining room. Mr. McFarren, looking rather glum, meets us and imparts the in- formation that we are a few minutes late, the dining room is closed and we will be obliged to go somewhere else for dinner. He also makes this remark : "That piece of statuary in the office thinks he is about the prettiest thing that ever was," meaning the proprietor, who certainly is a handsome man. Well, for a party of half famished travelers, this is not just agreeable. I volunteer to interview the "piece of statuary," so, walking into the office in a very matter-of- fact way, for I knew well it would be best to be pleasant about it, I ask, "How soon can our dinner be served ?" He politely says, "You are too late, dinner was served at seven o'clock." 173 PENCIL SKETCHES, With a forced laugh, I reply, "You don't mean to say that we cannot have any dinner, after traveling all day, do you?" For an instant he looked in my face, and he must have seen famine written there, for he said, "Tell your party to come right this way," pointing in an opposite direction from the general dining room, where we were soon bounti- fully served, in a most beautiful private room. Go where you will in Cologne, the lofty spires of the great cathedral can be seen towering high above every other structure. Indeed, as one approaches the city, he sees the cathedral before he does the town. It is one of the famous churches of the world, and contains a wealth of art in paintings and sculpture. The reputed tomb of the three wise men, or magi, of the East, who visited Bethlehem soon after the birth of our Lord, is here. The windows of this magnificent building are beautiful and brilliant be- yond description, being painted with all the extravagance of the German Renaissance style. It is in the early morning when we enter the cathedral. The light is subdued and silence reigns. We sit down and enjoy the stillness. It had been a dream of ours, before leaving home, and we had often spoken of it — that we would love to go into one of those old, dimly lighted cathedrals and sit down and listen to the organ. 174 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. After a time I turn to Veiva and say, "I guess our lit- tle dream of sitting alone in one of the old cathedrals and listening — " I get no further, for at that moment the soft, low tones of the organ in a distant part of the church fall upon our ears. The strains grow stronger and louder until they throb and vibrate through the great building. Then, as the chanting of the choir is heard, we involuntarily turn and clasp each other's hands and look into each other's faces and it seems almost as though a prayer is being an- swered. We spend hours rambling about this old town, through its shops and beautifully ornamented squares and gardens. It goes without saying that every one who visits this city carries away some of its celebrated perfume. On the Rhine steamer, our traveling companions who left us at Milan, made the discovery that their tickets for that trip had been taken from them by mistake somewhere on the journey. Now, here at Cologne, Veiva has the misfortune to lose her ticket to Antwerp. She feels that it was carelessness and says, "I am not going to worry a moment, but I am going to punish myself by riding third class." She also thinks it will be a good opportunity to study character. She is so anxious to do so, I give my consent, 175 PENCIL SKETCHES, providing she can go on the same train that I do. The ticket agent says she will do so, and we start that way, she being in about the fourth car in front of mine. She waves to me and tells me she is all right, and so she does at the second and third stations after leaving Cologne. But as we back out of the station at the next town, I look out once more and lo! the train is cut in two and the car she is in with others, is left, and we go sailing off without her. One can hardly imagine how I feel as I see the gap widening between us, unless it is Veiva, who, with sinking heart, sees our train as it diminishes, becomes a mere speck and dis- appears in the distance. We both know that our train should reach Antwerp just in time for the steamer that leaves for Harwich. At first I am inclined to be frantic with worry, for how do I know where she will be taken? Then I think, "This is an- other joke." I find consolation in knowing she has plenty of money with her and is bright enough to find her way to London, so I think I will go right along, as that is all I can do, and try to enjoy the scenery. But, someway, there was always a girl in tan, with an anxious look on her face, in the picture, and I don't think I shall ever have a clear idea of what I saw between Cologne and Antwerp. We reach the station in Antwerp and go on board the steamer. It is time for sailing, my hope of seeing Veiva i 7 6 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. is abandoned, as the sailors are about to pull in the gang plank, when she springs across and, with a laugh, tells me her experiences. After we left her, she changed cars at four different stations, in company with a couple of Ger- man girls from America, who were very kind and helpful. She said she had a rare opportunity to study character ; but when she stepped off from the train at Antwerp, she was alone and in the opposite part of the town from where we stopped. As she stood helpless and not knowing just what to do, a young man, evidently an officer of some kind, picked up her suit case, but with a lot of dignity she said, "If you please, I will attend to my own luggage." He started on with it, laughing and saying, "If you want to make that boat, come with me quick." He helped her on a tram which brought her directly to the steamboat landing, not a moment too soon. After dinner, we go on deck and stay until driven in by the wind. It grows very stormy as we reach the open sea, and we have a rough passage; at least, so think many, I imagine, by the doleful sounds which echo and re-echo through the ship. Veiva and I still prove ourselves good sailors. After the night's rest, we step on old England's shore again, at Harwich, and during the ride to London we 177 PENCIL SKETCHES, are again filled with admiration for her pleasant rural homes and farms. As we ride through the streets of London it is like meeting an old friend, and most of all, we appreciate the fact that we can talk and be understood. Our visit to Oxford, which we have looked forward to with so much pleasure, must be given up, as we have only one day before sailing from Southampton. 178 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. CHAPTER XXVI. Westminster Abbey. "That antique pile behold, Where royal heads receive the sacred gold; It gives them crowns ; and does their ashes keep ; These made like gods, like mortals there they sleep, Making the circle of their reign complete — These suns of empires, where they rise, they set." FTER visiting so many of the celebrated churches on the continent, we have thought perhaps West- minster Abbey might be disappointing, but we do not find it so. It has an individuality of its own. As one passes down its aisles in the subdued light, it inspires a feeling of reverence and awe, which is lacking when in those great catholic cathedrals. The Abbey is of Gothic design, built in the form of a cross, four hundred feet long and two hundred feet wide It was first founded in 610 A. D., by King Sebert. It has been once destroyed and rebuilt, and several times injured 179 PENCIL SKETCHES, and restored. The last time it was restored by Christopher Wren, and, like all his work, is both substantial and beau- tiful. In the last century, many windows have been painted, representing the most beautiful and touching scenes of the Te Deum, also other windows illustrative of the old testa- ment characters. The great rose window is commemora- tive of our Lord and His apostles. In the center of the Abbey and surrounded by other chapels, is that of Edward the Confessor. Here is the mosaic shrine of the confessor, before which Henry IV. was stricken down with his last illness, while confessing, besides many fine monuments erected to the memory of other kings and queens. Here, too, are the chairs used at the coronation of the sovereigns of Great Britain since Ed- ward the Confessor. Underneath the seat of one, is the famous "Stone of Scone." Tradition says it was this stone on which Jacob rested his head when he had that wonder- ful "ladder dream." It was formerly known in Scotland as "Jacob's Pillow." The royal coronation always takes place here, and even though the ceremony has been performed elsewhere, it is thought necessary to repeat it here, with great pomp and magnificence, before the most noted per- sonages of the land. The moment the crown is placed upon the head of the king or queen, the tower guns are signaled to fire a royal salute. 1 80 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. We linger some time in the Poet's Corner, situated at the end of one of the trancepts where are buried, and monu- ments erected to the memory of, a large number of the greatest poets and dramatists. A few have statues, but the larger number have busts, medallions or merely inscrip- tions. The monument to Milton, author of "Paradise Lost," has a bust, and a tablet with a lyre around which a serpent holding an apple is entwined. That to Shakespeare is a full length statue leaning against a pillar with the crowned heads of Queen Elizabeth, Henry V. and Richard II. While they ruled over a kingdom, he was king of the realm of literature. A beautiful monument, with full length statue, organ and music scroll, commemorates the memory of Handel; but in his composition of the wonderful oratorio, "The Messiah," he erected a monument to himself more enduring than stone or marble. We have wandered among the tombs of kings and queens, lords and ladies, knights and generals; for West- minster seems like one vast sepulcher. We have stood by the grave of the handsome, haughty, Elizabeth ; and nearby it is the tomb of Mary, Queen of Scots, on which the marble figure of the beautiful but unfortunate queen is lying. Our eyes wander through this vast and magnificent pile, along the ancient chapels crowded with monuments 181 PENCIL SKETCHES, representing the human form in numberless postures. Here a beautiful cherub, kneeling in prayer, and there, in the monument to Mr. and Mrs. Nightingale, is the sheeted skele- ton, aiming his dart at his victim, who sinks into her terri- fied husband's arms. He tries to avert the blow, but death's aim is sure, and his shaft is driven home. Surely, he who could conceive such a strange design as this last did not believe in robbing death of its horrors. Above these marble tombs the walls are carved with designs of such delicacy of workmanship that the massive stone assumes a light and airy texture. Then, mounting to the groined ceiling, the eye rests on the most exquisite spec- imens of fan tracery in existence, the whole surface being covered with a network of lace-like carvings, so delicate that it seems more like the work of the frost king, than of man's work in stone. A melancholy silence reigns throughout the building. We feel very humble and small as we stand amidst this mighty grandeur, which time and atmosphere are so sadly defacing. The stone is crumbling, and many of the carv- ings are becoming obliterated ; and we fancy that in the cen- turies to come, the ivy-grown towers, broken arches and rubbish-strewn chapels may be pointed out to the traveler as the ruins of the famous Westminster Abbey. 182 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. In the words of Irving, "'What, then, is to insure this pile, which now towers above me, from sharing the fate of mightier mausoleums ? The time must come when its gilded vaults, which now spring so loftilv, shall lie in rubbish be- neath the feet; when instead of the sound of melody and praises, the wind shall whistle through the broken arches and the owl hoot from the shattered tower ; when the garish sunbeam shall break into these gloomy mansions of the dead, and the ivy twine around the fallen columns, and the foxglove hang its blossoms about the nameless urn, as if in mockery of the dead. Thus man passes away; his name perishes from record and recollection; his name is as a tale that is told, and his very monument becomes a ruin." 183 PENCIL SKETCHES, CHAPTER XXVII. London Shops, Homeward Bound. HFTER lunching in a scrupulously clean and airy restaurant in Trafalgar Square, we mount an I omnibus and ride to within a few blocks of the "Old Curiosity Shop," made famous by Charles Dickens. We do not need to have it pointed out to us, for we know it the moment we come in sight of it. I go directly to the little front door with the old-fashioned knocker, or bell, not looking through the glass in the upper part of it at first, but the next instant I see a little old man at his desk in the hall, with a very angry expression on his face, as he shakes his head and motions for us to go away. For a moment, the delusion is strong that Daniel Quilp, the ugly dwarf, is still in possession of the shop, and still making use of his horrible grimaces to frighten people. We make bold and go, by another door, into a small room rilled with articles seemingly as old and queer as the shop itself. There are water-color sketches of the different char- acters of the story, in the window, but when we ask the man if there is not something he will sell us, either they are 184 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. not for sale, or he is too much offended at our intrusion ; for he shakes his head and replies, ''Nothing, madam." We decide to spend the remaining part of the afternoon in the most fashionable shopping district of London, Regent and Oxford streets, although we have by no means exhaust- ed all the interesting and historical places of the city. Re- gent street is one of the handsomest, broadest and most fashionable of London's thoroughfares. Certainly, neither the streets nor shops are disappointing. In all European cities, a good representation of their merchandise is displayed in the windows, the rich and more elegant articles being very artistically arranged, but we are surprised at the smallness of the interiors. The shops are not crowded with customers, there is no rush. The shopkeeper, when he discovers we are from America, has ample time to go out into the street and point out places of interest to us and tell us of the good will England bears our country. We go from place to place, admiring and enjoying the beautiful, making our purchases arid wishing we were rich enough to surprise all our friends at home with some beauti- ful souvenir from this great and magnificent city. And now, at half past ten o'clock in the evening, I sit in my room writing the last words of my journal of expe- rience in a foreign land. We are to leave London to- 185 PENCIL vSKETCHES, morrow morning at half past eight o'clock, for Southamp- ton, from whence we sail, at eleven o'clock, for New York, on the St. Paul. And it is with a quicker heart-throb that we think of clasping our dear ones in our arms and talking with them, face to face, and heart to heart. We are again out at sea, but this time, homeward bound. The last narrow line of land has dropped into the water, out of sight, and we settle down to ship life once more as naturally as though it were but yesterday that we left the St. Louis. The St. Paul is the exact counterpart of the St. Louis, and if it were not for the change of captain and crew, we would not realize but what we were again on that steamer. Many of our friends of the St. Louis are returning home with us. We gather in groups, at times, and relate some of our experiences while traveling on the continent, and we learn that we were not the only ones who got into predica- ments. But we all agree that we would not have had those same experiences omitted from our program for a great deal, for they were the spice which flavored many an hour that otherwise might have been less enjoyable. And I fancy that long after the picture of mausoleums, ruins and preserved saints has faded from our memories, these things, which seem of so little importance now, will stand out clear and distinct. 1 86 OR EUROPE AS I SAW IT. Most of the time for the first three days we spend in sleep ; for not until we are again on the ocean do we realize how tired we are. The weather has been stormy much of the time since leaving Southampton, and many are seasick. Several of us are watching a certain Dr. M , an M. E. divine, who is to treat us to ice cream if he succumbs to that complaint ; but I fear we will be left, for he is fighting bravely. In the evenings several gather together and sing, but it is only half-hearted. Yet, some even have the courage to arrange an entertainment. There is excellent talent on board, and the concert proves a great success; there being programs enough sold to leave a handsome sum of money for the benefit of the sailors' widows and orphans, in London and New York. After a safe but uneventful voyage of seven days, the last day comes that we are to spend on the St. Paul. Every- one is busy. There is packing to be done, accounts to be balanced, so as to know how we stand with the world, lists to be made of all purchases made while abroad, and their values to be made out, to facilitate matters with the custom house officers, and good-byes to be said. Unfortunately for our friends at home, but very for- tunately for ourselves, we shall have no tales of hairbreadth escapes on land, or fierce storms at sea, but only those com- 187 PENCIL SKETCHES, mon occurrences that are incident to most travelers abroad. We stay on deck until near midnight, for this is our last evening to enjoy old ocean, who is in one of his most pleasant and amiable moods. Early in the morning we steam into beautiful New York harbor. As we feel the tremble of the ship as she comes alongside of her moorings, it is like being awakened from some vivid and delightful dream, only to find ourselves in our own room, with its familiar furnishings. We rub our eyes to make sure it is real. Oh, yes ! There are duties to be performed to-day, but the wonderful dream mingles with and beautifies the dullest task. So the memories of this most delightful of pleasure trips are to broaden our thoughts, deepen our charity and love for our fellow creatures, and lighten and beautify our every task, be they ever so humble. THE END. W 9 5 X .0* o^l%*q, ,**\.j^«* '% ^*^feX i*^fe% ^*^kS ."V y.-,a«fc.% >».-iSii..\. c»*..i^.% ^-Ta^ A ^ ^6 > A *.jJfifcV >*.!lS:._*. ^.atfi&V J W :. ™J> V"V V^V \fl^\ *>X f\ ^ ./\. W (1 WERT U ^ ^ I Crantv.lle Pa Q I VV