Glass. 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
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 The Library of Congress 
 
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YIEWS A-FOOT; 
 
 EUROPE SEEN 
 
 WITH OAPSACK AND STAFF. 
 
 BAYARD TAYLOR. 
 
 Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way, 
 
 And merrily hent the stile-a , 
 ▲ merry heart goes all the day, 
 
 Your sad tires in a mile-a. 
 
 WiwTMi'8 Tale. 
 
 TWENTY-FOURTH EDITION. REVISED. 
 
 NEW YORK : 
 G. P. PUTNAM, 506 BROADWAY. 
 
 1859. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 185fi, by 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM <fc CO. 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Uuited States for the Southern District 
 of New York. 
 
 
 -t 
 

 i '/CO 
 
 ^¥ 
 
 FRANK TAYLOR, 
 
 THIS STORY OF THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 WHOSE TOILS AND ENJOYMENTS WE SHARED TOGETHER, 
 
 AFFECTIOlfATELY I15"SCRIBED, 
 
 HIS RELATIVE AND FRIEND. 
 
PKEFACE. 
 
 This work was first publislied in Deceraber, 1846, 
 six months after my return from Europe. Some litera- 
 ry friends, who had been interested in the letters which 
 I sent home during my pedestrian journeys, encouraged 
 me in the design of collecting them, completing the 
 story from my journals, and producing a book, which, 
 while treating of beaten tracks, might possess some 
 interest from the circumstances under which they were 
 trodden. Mr. N". P. Willis, whose kindness to me was 
 as prompt as his friendship has been generous and con- 
 stant, wrote an introduction, giving the buoyancy of 
 liis name to a craft which might not otherwise have 
 ridden so fortunately the capricious sea of literary suc- 
 cess. Several editions were sold during the following 
 year, and in August, 1848, I added to the eighth edition 
 a chapter containing some practical information for 
 pedestrians, in answer to numerous letters from young 
 
men wlio desired to follow my example. To the same 
 edition I attached the following prefatory remarks : 
 
 " In presenting to the public a ne-w and improved edition of this re- 
 cord of his wanderings, the author could not justly suffer the opportu- 
 nity to go by, without expressing his grateful acknowledgment of the 
 kindness with which his work has been received. Although his aim 
 was simply to give a narrative of personal experience, which it was hoped 
 might be of some value to many a toiling student in the college of the 
 world, he was aware that it would be considered a test of his literary 
 ability, and that whatever hearing he might have hoped to obtain for the 
 works of maturer years, would be dependent on its success. With a 
 total ignorance of the arts of book-making, and uncertain whether a 
 new voice from the track where thousands had been before him 
 would find a patient auditory, it was therefore not without considera- 
 ble anxiety that he gave his volume to the wo^ld. But he was not 
 prepared to hope for such an imcmediate and generous favor as it re- 
 ceived. By the press of our own country, as well as the more rigid 
 reviewers of Great Britain, whatever merits it possesses were cordially 
 appreciated, while its faults were but lightly touched — ^perhaps from a 
 sympathy with the youth of the author, and the plan of his enthusias- 
 tic pilgrimage. But what was most gratefid of all, he learned that 
 many another young and hopeful spirit had been profited and encou- 
 raged by his own experience, and was ready to try the world with as 
 little dependence on worldly means. The letters he received from 
 young men whose hopes and circumstances were what his own had 
 been, gave welcome evidence that he had not written in vain. He will 
 not say that this knowledge repaid him for whatever toil and hardship 
 he had undergone ; whoever is subjected to the same experience will 
 learn that it brings its own reward ; — ^but it will nerve him henceforth 
 to bear any lot, however severe, through which he may be enabled 
 to say a word that shall cheer or strengthen another. 
 
 " He is now fully aware how much he has omitted from these pages, 
 which would have been curious and perhaps instructive to the reader ; 
 
— ^ho-w many blunders of inexperience ; ho-w much tliouglitlesa confi- 
 dence in the -world; hovr many painful struggles with pride, and a too 
 selfish independence ; how many strange extremities of want and amus- 
 ing expedients of relief. His reluctance to relate much that was entire- 
 ly personal and could not have been told without some little sacrifice 
 of feeling, has since been regretted, from the belief that it might have 
 been useful to others. Perhaps, however, it will be better that each one 
 should learn these lessons for himself. There is a sensation of novelty, 
 which, even in the most embarrassing situations, produces a desperate 
 kind of enjoyment, and in addition to this, the sufferer's sympathies for 
 humanity are very much deepened and enlarged by an acquaintance 
 with its trials, 
 
 " In preparing the present edition of his book, the author at first 
 contemplated a complete revision. The fact that seven editions had 
 been sold in a year and a half from the publication, seemed to require 
 that he should make such improvements as his riper judgment suggested, 
 and which should render it more worthy of so extensive a circulation. 
 But further reflection convinced him that it would be best to make 
 little change. It was written during his wanderings — partly by the 
 wayside, when resting at mid-day, and partly on the rough tables of 
 peasant inns, in the stillness of deserted ruins, or amid the sublime soli- 
 tude of the mountain-top. It thus reflects faithfully the impress of his 
 own mind, in every part of the journey, and he would prefer that it 
 should remain a boyish work, however lacking in finish of composition, 
 rather than risk taking away whatever spirit it may have caught from 
 nature. Some particulars, which have been desired by persons about 
 to undertake a similar journey, and which may be generally interesting, 
 have been given in a new chapter at the close." 
 
 At the time the foregoing preface was written, I aid 
 not venture to anticipate that the work would become 
 permanently popular. It had fulfilled the object of 
 its publication, and I should have been satisfied had 
 
it tlien gradually passed away from the remembrance 
 of the reading public. Since tliat time, however, 
 twelve more editions have been sold, and there appears 
 to be an increase rather than an abatement of the 
 demand for it. "When, therefore, Mr. Putnam, in order 
 to produce a collected "and uniform edition of my tra- 
 vels, proposed to destroy the original stereotype plates 
 and reprint the work, to correspond with the later 
 volumes, I could not suffer the opportunity to pass with- 
 out giving it that careful revision which was rendered 
 necessary by its crudities of style and carelessness of 
 arrangement. 
 
 I have endeavored to make no change which should 
 impair that spirit of boyish confidence and enthusiasm, 
 to which alone I must attribute the success of the work. 
 I have not meddled with the language further than to 
 correct occasional violations of taste. My task has 
 been, to omit much that was irrelevant to the story 
 and to my object in telling it, replacing these omissions 
 with personal particulars, which had been withheld 
 through an unnecessary pride. I have even in some 
 instances suffered opinions to stand, which I have long 
 since outgrown, because they illustrate my ignorance 
 and immaturity at the time. My object is to make 
 this account of my two years' experiment more clear 
 and intelligible to the reader — to retain everything that 
 is novel or characteristic, while relieving it of an over- 
 plus of mere description, which possesses no general 
 interest. I have also added an introductory chapter, 
 
containing all the particulars mentioned bj Mr. Willis 
 in his original introduction, with others which seemed 
 necessary to make the storj complete. In with- 
 drawing the book from the shelter of that gentle- 
 man's name, I can do no less than say that the 
 kindness of heart which made him one of my first 
 literary friends, leaves me still his debtor ; but those 
 who know him truly, know that indebtedness to him is 
 a burden lightly and gladly borne. 
 
 In conclusion, I must disclaim any particular talent 
 for economy, which has sometimes been accorded to 
 me, on account of having seen so much on such short 
 allowance. Had I possessed more I should have spent 
 more, and the only value of my experience is, to prove 
 to young men of scanty means that they need not ne- 
 cessarily be debarred from enjoying the pleasures and 
 the advantages of travel. The story of this experience 
 has been, and may still be, useful to others ; and I 
 claim for it no further merit than that of truth, without 
 reserve or exaggeration. 
 
 B. T 
 
 IS'ew York, October, 1855. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 Introductory 
 
 CHAPTEE 11. 
 
 The Second Cabin — Our Fellow Passengers — Sea Life — The Banks of Newfoundland- 
 Black Fish — Unfavorable Weather — ^The Iowa Indians — Their Songs and Dances — • 
 Raising the Wind— Off the Hebrides— First Sight of Land— Scenery of the North 
 Channel — A Burial at Sear— The Isle of Man— Approach to Liverpool — Objects on 
 Landing — A Race for the Custom House — ^A Day in Liverpool, .... 24 
 
 CHAPTER IIL 
 Leaving Liverpool — The Second Cabin again — Irish Fellow Passengers — The Channel 
 — The Northern Coast of Ireland — Port Rush — A Rainy Day — An Irish Hut — 
 Dunluce Castle — Rain and Ruin — The Giant's Causeway — The Giant's Well — 
 Basaltic Columns — The Giant's Organ, and Chimneys— A Coast Scene — The Shore 
 at Night — Wandering in the Storm — Return to Port Rush, .... 33 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 Passage to Greenock — The Deck Passengers— Arrival at Night — The Blind Fiddler — 
 Dumbarton Rock— An Adventure—" On Leven's Banks " — Loch Lomond — Voyage 
 up the Lake — Anecdotes — Sailing on a Meadow — The Ascent of Ben Lomond- 
 View from the Summit— The Descent — Highland Scenery — Loch Katrine— The 
 Boatmen — Trip down the Lake — Ellen's Isle — The Trosachs — ^The Inn of Ard- 
 cheancrochan, 41 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 Morning on Loch Katrine — Walk to Stirling — Out-door Life — The Burns Festival — 
 Preparations — Journey to Ayr— The " Twa Brigs "—The Streets of Ayr — Scotch 
 Beggars — An Incident — The Burns Cottage— Alloway Kirk— Engli.-h Exclusiveness 
 —The Sister and Sons of Burus— Lord Eglintoun— Professor Wilson— The Proces- 
 sion-Performance of Tarn O'Shanter— The Burns Monument— Speech of Robert 
 Burns— An Anecdote of the Poet— Crowd at the Station— Return to Glasgow, 65 
 
CHAPTEE YL 
 Eide to Edinburgh — The Monumental City — Lost and Found — Seeing Edinburgh— 
 The March Eesamed — The Muirfoot Hi'.ls — American Books at Melrose — Wading 
 the Tweed — Abbotsford — The Armory and Library — Scotfs Study — A "Prospect"' 
 Eecovered — Euins of Melrose Abbey — Teviot Dale — Jedburgh — Over the Border — 
 Scenery of the Cheviots — Appreciative Tourists — ^Shepherds on Chevy Chase — ^The 
 Moorland — A Night at Whelpington Knowes — Walk to Newcastle — Cheap Lodgings 
 — The Eoman Wall — Miners in Distress — Passage for London — A Meeting — The 
 Yoyage — The Thames at Night — ^London at Dawn, 64 
 
 CHAPTEE YIL 
 Entering London — Cheap Lodgings and Bad Company — The Thoroughfares — St 
 Paul's — Yiew from the Dome — St. James's Park — ^Westminster Abbey — Poet's 
 Comer— Tombs of Sovereigns— Hall of the Bath— The Thames Tunnel— The lowas 
 again — The Parks — Crime and Misery in London — The End of our Sojourn — Cost 
 of the Tour through Scotland, . 79 
 
 CHAPTEE YIIL 
 Feelings on Yisiting the Continent — Imprisonment at Dover — Arrival at Ostend — 
 A Stroll— The Streets of Bruges— The Cathedral— The Belfry and its Chimes— 
 A Night on the Canal — Ghent — A Eainy Eide — ^Scenery of the Meuse — Entering 
 Prussia— Aix-la-Chapelle— The Cathedral— The Tomb of Charlemagne— The Ca- 
 thedral of Cologne— Tradition of its Plan— The Smells of the Streets, . . 83 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 In Heidelberg — The Star Hotel at Bonn — Passing the Drachenfels — Coblentz and 
 Ehrenbreitstein — The Charms of the Ehiae — Lurlei Eockand its Echo — A Eainbow 
 at Oberwesel — Mavence — Eide to Frankfort — Hunting an Address — Mr. Eichard S. 
 Willis — The Festival at Darmstadt — Scenery of the Bergstrasse — German Peasants — 
 Fellow Passengers— Heidelberg at Sunset— A Besting Place, . . . .96 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 Eooms in Heidelberg — The Landlady — Yiew from our Window — The Yalley of the 
 Neckar— Heidelberg Castle— The Towers— The Great Tun— The Wolfsbrunnen— 
 An Afternoon Party — Ascent of the Heiligenberg — The Pastor of Zeigelhausen — 
 The University Library— A Wedding — Conscripts — German Cookery and Cus- 
 toms—The Melibochus— The Sea of Eocks— The Giant's Column— Eeturn, . 105 
 
 CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 Eemoval to Frankfort — A German Parting— Twilight on the Mountains— The Inn of 
 
 Elsbach — ^A ^'rosty Morning— A Yillage Fair — Ths Castle of Erbach— Historical 
 
 Armor — An Antiquarian Theft — Curiosity of the Peasants — Castle of the Wild 
 
 Huntsman — ^An Old Peasant — The Emigrant Family, 117 
 
 CHAPTEE Xn. 
 Frankfort and its Associations— Our Quarters— Mr. Eichard S. WUlis— The Market- 
 Women — Inauguration of the Statue of Goethe— The Streets of Frankfort — The 
 Main Bridge— The Golden Cock— Weather— Baron Eothschild— The Promenades- 
 Celebration of the Yintage— The Poet Freiligrath, 125 
 
CHAPTEE Xlir. 
 
 A "Walk to Heidelberg— "Winter Journey— -d Commers— The Eed Fisherman— The 
 Hall of Assembly— The Students — Songs and Speeches— The Ceremony of the 
 Landsfatlier — Gervinus and Schlosser — A Duel at Neuenheim — Its Eesult — Charac- 
 ter of the Students, 134 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 Expenses of the Eirst Six Months Abroad— Prospects for the Future — Christmas in 
 Germany— The Christmas Booths — Visit of St. Xicholas— Preparations for Christ- 
 mas — ^Excitement among the Children — Christmas Eve — The Christmas Tree — • 
 Poetry of the Festival — "Welcome to the New Year — Scene in the Streets, 143 
 
 CHAPTEE XV. 
 Sports on the Ice — Lessing's Picture of Huss — The Eschernheim Tower — Severity 
 of the "Winter— Sufferings of Men and Beasts— My "Winter Life— Matteus and the 
 Stove— Hopes of Spring — The Fair — Picturesque Crowds — A Vender of Black-ng 
 — Eise of the Main — ^The City Inundated—Sachsenhausen under "Water — A Day of 
 Sunshine — Faces in the Streets — German Beauty — The Flood Increases— Devasta- 
 tion — ^The Eiver Falls — ^An Explosion — German Fire-Engines and Firemen, . 149 
 
 CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 The Beauty of Spring — The Frankfort Cemetery — Precautions against Burying 
 ^live — Monument by Thorwaldsen — The Speaking Deaf— Manner of Healing them 
 
 Story of a Boy — ^The Hall of the Emperors — Mendelssohn, the Composer — Seeing 
 
 him in a Crowd— Interview with him — His Personal Appearance and Conversation, 
 
 163 
 
 CHAPTEE XVII. 
 Leaving Frankfort — Plan of our German Tour — The Country in Spring— A " Fighting" 
 Journeyman— Giessen — The Valley of the Lahn — Foot-travelling in Hesse Cassel— 
 A Village Inn— A Tattling Boy — Mountain Scenery — Meeting with Students — The 
 City of Cassel— Carl, the Student — "Walk to the "Wilhelmshohe — The Giant's Castle- 
 Cascades and Fountains, 1T2 
 
 CHAPTEE XVIIL 
 
 Parting from Carl- The Town of Munden — Illness — Guttingen, and a Physician- 
 Approach to the Hartz—Osterode— Entering the Mountains— "Wild Scenery— A 
 Stormy Night— Climbing the Brocken— A Snow Storm— Perilous Travelling— The 
 Brocken House— The Spectre— Peeps through the Clouds— Descent of the Brocken 
 —Valleys of the Hartz— The Eosstrappe— The Landlady's Legend— "Walk to Hal- 
 berstadt— A Suspicious Inn— The Sleeping Chamber— Anticipation of Murder— 
 Belief, 180 
 
 CHAPTEE XIX. 
 Magdeburg— Suspected Passengers— Leipsic— View of the Battle-Field— The Eosen- 
 thal— Schiller's Eoom— Auerbach's Cellar— Leipsic Publishers— Gersiacker— Charms 
 of Dresden— The Picture Gallery— The Madonna di San Sisto— Monument to 
 Moreau- The Eoyal Library— The Green Vaults— Cages of Gems— Eoyal Play- 
 things, 194 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Farewell to Dresden — The King of Saxony — Beauty of the Country— Sunken Glens— 
 The Uttewalder Grand -Precipice of the Bastei— Effects of the Inundation— The 
 Fortress of Konigstein — Anecdote of a Baron — A Mountain Valley— A Cascade 
 Show— The Kuhstall— The Little Winterberg— Cloudy Landscapes— The Prebisch- 
 tbor— Entering Austria— Bohemian Scenery— The Battle-Pield of Kulm — The 
 Baths of Teplitz — Plains of the Elbe — Distant View of Prague, . . . 2C3 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Impressions of Prague— Past and Present— The Moldau Bridge— Johannes of Nepo- 
 muck— A Day Dream— The Cathedral— The Shrine of Nepomuck— Jesuitical 
 Music— An Attack of Jews— The Old Hebrew Cemetery, .... 215 
 
 CHAPTER XXIL 
 
 The Scenery of Bohemia — The Inhabitants — Wayside Shrines — Disgusting Images — 
 Devotion of the People— Iglau— The Peasant Girls — Bohemian Teams— A Religions 
 Pageant— A New Companion— His Astonishment— Lodging with the Lancers— The 
 City of Znaim— Talk with the Handwerker— Rain— A Drunken Baron — Summer 
 Scenery— First View of the Alps— The VaUey of the Danube— Arrival at Vienna, 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Vienna— The Ferdinand's Bridge— The Streets— The Old City— The Suburbs— Bean ■ 
 ty of the Prater— St. Stephen's Cathedral— The Belvidere Gallery— The Lowc 
 Belvidere— Historical Relics — The Respectful Custode — The Iron Stick — Straasa 
 and his Band— The Tomb of Beethoven— Galleries of Art — The Imperial Library 
 — Cabinet of Natural History — State Carriages of Austria — Prince Liechtenstein's 
 Gallery — Correggio's Venus and Cupid — The Imperial Armory — The Crusty Custode 
 — A Pole — Relics of the Past— Banners of the Crusaders — A Scene at the Police 
 Oflace — ^Light Hearts and Empty Purses, 232 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 A Strong Wind— The Palace of Schonbrunn— The Abbey of Melk— The Luxury of 
 Foot-Travel — American Scenery — Rencontre with Bohemian Gipsies — Danubian 
 Landscapes — The Styrian Alps — Holy Florian — Votive Shrines — ^Linz and its Towers 
 — More Money Wanted — Lambach— A Moantain Portrait — Falls of the Traun — Bat- 
 tle-Field of the Unknown Student, 249 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 The Lake of Gmunden— Among the Alps— The Lumber Business— The Baths of Ischl 
 —St. Wolfgang— Climbing the Schafberg- Lost — The Track of an Avalanche — 
 Walking over a Forest— Panorama from the Summit— Descent to St. Gilgen — An 
 Alpine Eden— The Shoemaker and his Wife— '• Footsteps of Angels "—The Valley 
 of Salzburg— The Alps— The Boy of the Mountain — Sights in Salzburg— Entering 
 Bavaria— People and Scenery -Wasserburg— Field of Hobenlinden — Arrival at 
 Munich — An Enthusiastic Acquaintance, . . 258 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXYL 
 The Splendor of Munich— King Ludwig's Labors— The Ludwigstrasse — ^The Library 
 — The Church of St. Louis— Monument to Eugene Beauharnois — The Parks on the 
 Isar— The New Kesidence— Magnificence of its Hall&— Hall of the Throne — The 
 Kings Apartments — The Eoyal Chapel — A Picture of Devotion — The G-lTptothek 
 — Its Sculptures — The Son of Niobe — ^The Pinacothek — A Giant — The Basilica— 
 Schwanthaler's Studio — History of an Artisan — Condition of our Finances, . 2T1 
 
 CHAPTEE XXYIL 
 The Eailroad to Augsburg— Traces of Ancient Splendor — "Walk to Ulm — ^Entering 
 "Wiirtemburg- Seeking Lodgings in the Eain — The •' Golden "Wheer' — Funds — 
 Good-bye to the Alps— The Yalley of the Eils— The Suabian Land— Arrival at 
 Stuttgard— Thorwaldsen's Statue of Schiller— The Bewildered Omnibus Driver- 
 Walking in the Eain— Ludwigsburg— Empty Pockets— Beauty of the Zabergau- 
 The Last Night— Approaching Heidelberg — Familiar Scenes — The Castle — An End 
 of Hardship— A Student's Burial— Eeturn to Frankfort— A Midnight Farewell, 284 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVIIL 
 
 On the way to Italy— Meeting with a Neighbor— A Talk with the Farmers— Journey 
 to Freiburg— The Minster— Market Day— The New Eailroad— The Institute for 
 the Blind — The Grand Duchess Stephanie — The Kingdom of Heaven— The Yalley 
 of Hell— Natives of the BlackForest— Climbing the Fcldberg— Scenery of the Black 
 Forest— The Alps again— We enter Switzerland— Schaflfhausen— The Falls of the 
 Ehine, i 296 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIX. 
 
 Canton Zurich— The Country and People — The City of Zurich — Its Promenades — 
 Friendly Gfreetings— Walk along the Lake Shore— The Alp-Glow— The Grave of 
 Ulrich von Hutten — Freiligrath, the Banished PoQt — The Alps in the Eain — Ein- 
 siedeln— The Cathedral and Pilgrims— Music— Alpine Scenery— The Slide of the 
 Eossberg — Schwytz — The Lake of the Four Cantons — The Meadow of Grutli—Teirs 
 Chapel— Altorf— Night in the Yalley of the Eeuss, 805 
 
 CHAPTEE XXX. 
 
 An Alpine Day— Chasm of the Eeuss— The Devil's Bridge— Andermatt— Climbing 
 the St. Gothard — Summit of the Pass — A Eapid Descent into Italy— Yalley of the 
 Ticino— Eugged Scenery— Southern Yegetation—Yineyards— Italian Experiences- 
 Junction with the Spliigen Eoad — Bacchus — On Lago Maggiore — The Borromean 
 Isles— Landing in Lombardy — \n Italian Landlord— Arrival at Milan, . .317 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXL 
 
 The Streets of Milan— The Duomo— Its Interior— Art based on Nature— Italian 
 Priestcraft— The Arch of Peace— Financial Distress— Eelieved by a German 
 Lawyer— Thunder Storms— Lions in Pavia— Crossing the Po— Magnificent Yiew 
 of the Alps— The Second Day's Travel— An Italian Sunset— A Pinta of Wine- 
 Morning— Pilgrim Travel— First Yiew of the Mediterranean— The Descent to 
 .Geuee, 827 
 
CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 Genoa at Sunset— Appearance of the City— A Eeligious Procession— Another 
 Financial Difficulty— Embarking for Leghorn— A Night at riea— Morning in Tus- 
 cany—Landing— A Polyglott Population— The Ardenza— Criminals at Work— My 
 Comrades Eelieved— Approach to Pisa—The City— The Leaning Tower—The 
 Echo in the Baptistery— The Campo Santo— A Vetturino for Florence— An 
 Italian Companion — Night-Journey in fhe Eain — Florence at Last, . . . 839 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXIII. 
 
 Eooms in Florence— Cost of Living— The Eoyal Gallery— The Venus de Medici — 
 Titian and Eaphael— Michael Angelo— The Hall of Niobe— Value of Art to Italy — 
 A Walk to Fiesole — ^View of Val d'Arno — Ancient Eoman Theatre — ^Etruscan 
 Walls— The Tombs of Santa Croce— The Pitti Palace— Titian's "Bella"— The Ma- 
 donna della Sedia— Michael Angelo's "Fates" — The Boboli Gardens — Eoyal and 
 Eepublican Children, , , ... 351 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXIV. 
 V Pilgrimage to Vallombrosa— The Valley of the Arno — Eain— Tuscan Peasants — 
 Pellago — Associations — Climbing the Mountain — Pastoral Scenery — Monastic 
 Wealth— Arrival at Vallombrosa — ^An Italian Panorama — The Paradisino — An 
 Escape from the Devil — A Capture by the Devil— The Chapel— Milton io Italy- 
 Departure from Vallombrosar— Evening en the Mountain Side— The Charms of 
 Italy, 362 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXV. 
 
 A Walk to Siena— The Landlady- The Inn at Querciola— Siena and its Cathedral- 
 Parting from F The Grapes of Italy— The Dome of the Duomo— Climbing 
 
 in the Dark— A Cathedral Scene— Walk to Pratoiino— The Vintage— The Colossus 
 of the Appenines— The Grand Duke's Farm — Degeneracy of the Modern Italians — 
 The Joy of Travel— The Eaces at the Cascine— The Holy Places of Florence— The 
 Anatomical Museum — American Artists in Florence — Progress of American Art — 
 Brown— Kellogg— Greenou^ — Ives — Mozier— Powers— The Statue of Eve — The 
 Fisher Boy — Ibrahim Pasha ia Florence — Tuscan Winter — Galileo's Tower — Our 
 Financial Experiences — Belief- The Memory of Pleasure and Privation — An Inci 
 dent— Boat Voyage on the Arno— Amateur Starvation— The Ascent oi Monte 
 Morello— The Chapel of the Medici— A Farewell Meditation, . . .371 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXVI. 
 Departure from Florence — Eain among the Appenines— The Inn at Cucinar— Talks 
 with the Tuscan Peasants — Central Italy — Arezzo— Italian Country Inns — ^Engaging 
 a Calesino— Lake Thrasymene— The Battle-fleld— Night-Eide to Perugia— Journey 
 to Fofiigno— Vale of the Clitumnus — Our Fellow Passengers— Spoleto and Monte 
 Somma — Terni without the Cascade— Narni — Otricoli— Travelling by Vetturino — 
 Soracte at Sunset— Walking with the Dragoon— The Campagna— First Sight of St. 
 Peter's— Entering Eome— The Pantheon by Starlight— The Dragoons Adieu— 
 Eome, 894 
 
CONTENTS. ivU 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 The First Day in Eome— The Corso— We fiad the Forum— Trajan's Column— Papal 
 Profanation— St. Peter's Found— The Square and ObeUsk— The Interior of St- 
 Peter's-The Galleries of the Vatican— Statues— Ancient Arl>-Hemicycle of the 
 Belvidere— The Laocoon— The Divine Apollo— New Tear's Day in Rome -The 
 Quirinal HiU-^St. John Lateran— The Temple of Vesta— The Pyramid of Cestius— 
 The Tombs of Keats and Shelley— The Ruins of Rome— The Coliseum at Sunset- 
 Mausoleum of Augustus— Crawford's Studio— The Square of the Pantheon— Pro- 
 fane and Pious Beggars— The Trattoria del Sole— Impressions of Roman Ruins— 
 The Coliseum by Moonlight, 40T 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 Excursion to Tivoli— A Sulphur Bath— The Temple of the Sibyl— A Windy Night— 
 The Cascade of the Auio— The Cascatelles— The Campagna— Museum of the 
 Capitol — The Dying Gladiator — Ruins on the Campagna— Tomb of Cecilia Metella 
 —The Aqueducts— Egeria's Grotto— The Villa Borghese— Tasso's Tomb— Passport 
 Fees in Italy— The Turning Point of the Pilgrimage— Farewell 1 . . . 423 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 Departure from Rome— The Campagna— The Shore of the Mediterranean— Civita 
 Vecchia — The handsome Sailor — Disadvantage of not being Servants — Embarking 
 — Sleeping on Deck— Elba and Corsica by Moonlight — Second Night on the Deck 
 — ^A Rainy Day at Genoa— A Stormy Night — A Sailor's Compassion — The Coast 
 of France — Approach to Marseilles — The Two Servants — Marseilles — Our Circum- 
 stances. ^^ 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 The Hilla of Provence— Rainy Travel— A night at Aix— Provencal Scenery— The 
 Mother of Soldiers — ^Bivouac at Senas — ^The Valley of the Sorgues — Approach to 
 Vaucluse — ^The Fountain of Vaucluse — More Rain — A Gleam of Sunshine — Avignon 
 —The Blacksmith's Shop — Economical Travel— The Kindness of the Poor — Roman 
 Eemains at Orange — Travel up the Rhone — A Soldier's Camp — Daybreak Scene — ■ 
 Valence — The Rhone — A. Night at Vienne — Approach to Lyons — A Quandary — 
 Monsieur and Madame Ferrand— The Mistrust of Poverty— Experiences in Lyons 
 — Gloomy Days — Le Caehot— The Sixth Day — The Letter — A Plan to Borrow a Franc 
 — ^The Relief— Excitement— A Marvellous Change, 440 
 
 CHAPTER XLL 
 The Pleasure of Rest— Leaving Lyons^Voyage up the Saone — An Inundation — The 
 Strolling Musicians and their Child— Walking in Burgundy— The Upland Region 
 — A Drenching Storm — Slow Ride to Auxerre — Miseries of a Country Diligence — 
 The Bloody Seine— Arrival at Paris— Getting a Draft Paid— Seeing Paris perforce — 
 Letters from Home .' 457 
 
 CHAPTER XLIL 
 ' Rooms to Let — A disappointed Landlord — Our Apartment, ches Zatribert — ^Living on 
 a Franc a Day — Amusements — The Streets of Paris — The Place de la Concorde — 
 The Hotel des Invalides— The Garden of the Tuileries— What we saw— The Ameri 
 can Minister — An Experience of Suicide — Empty Pockets again — The Sick Mer- 
 chant—Lying in Wait— The Relief- 1 Determine to visit London, . . 464 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLIIL 
 
 Leaving Paris— Versailles — Travel in March — The Saspicious Landlord— The Scenery 
 of Normandy- Eouen— The Yale of the Cailly — A Windy Night — 1 Hail the Atlantic 
 — ^A Night at Dieppe — Crossing the Channel — From Brighton to London. . 473 
 
 CHAPTEE XLIV. 
 
 My Circumstances — ^Lodgings in Aldgate — ^Visits to the Printers — Illiberal Eules of 
 the Craft — Dodging a Landlord — Success and Failure — Happy and Penniless — Yisit 
 to Mr. Putnam— The Mistrust of Poverty — Employment at Last — Life in Aldgate 
 — ^Letters of Introduction — A Breakfast with Lockhart — Bernard Barton— Croly — 
 Daniel O'Connell, and a Temperance Meeting— Trip to Greenwich— The " Fun of 
 the Fair" — Games in the Park— Greenwich Hill— Ground and Lofty Tumbling— A 
 Swinging Experiment— London Atmosphere — A Fog — Arrival of Money and 
 Friends— Embarking for Home, 478 
 
 CHAPTEE XLY. 
 Quarters on Ship-board— Passage through the Channel— Portsmouth— The Yoyage 
 Home— Excitement of Eeturn — ^Landing— Land Sights and Scents — The Last Day 
 of the Pilgrimage — Approaching Home — The Lighted Window — Eequisites for a 
 Pedestrian Journey— Travelling on Small Allowance — Cost of Sleeping— The Knap- 
 sack-Manner of Travel— Open- Air Life— A Pedestrian's Equipment- Books- 
 Sketching— German Students— Companions— Ignorance concerning America — 
 Hotels — Country Taverns — Passports — Funds — Personal Safety — Comparative 
 Expense of Different Coimtries— Statement of my Expenses — Farewell, . 490 
 
VIEWS A-F T 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 An enthusiastic desire of visiting the Old World haunted 
 me from early childhood. I cherished a presentiment, 
 amounting to positive belief, that I should one day behold 
 the scenes, among which my fancy had so long wandered. 
 When a boy of ten years I read Willis's " Pencillings by the 
 Way," as they appeared from week to week in the country 
 newspaper, and the contemplation of those charming pictures 
 of scenery and society filled me with a thousand dreams and 
 aspirations. I wandered along the shores of the Mediter- 
 ranean, while hoeing corn or tending cattle in my father's 
 fields ; the geography of Europe and the East was at my 
 tongue's end, and the confidence with which I spoke of 
 going to London, and Paris, and Rome, often subjected me 
 to the ridicule of my schoolfellows. But this confidence 
 
18 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 was too settled for either ridicule or reason to shake in the 
 slightest degree. 
 
 In my fifteenth year, a little book entitled " The Tourist 
 in Europe," written by Mr. George P. Putnam, fell into my 
 hands. In addition to lively sketches of a summer trip on 
 the continent, it contained the programmes of several Euro- 
 pean tours, with statements of the time, expenses, and other 
 details of travel, which furnished me with a basis whereon to 
 construct my own plans. The want of means was a serious 
 check to my anticipations ; but I could not content myself 
 to wait until I had slowly accumulated so large a sum as 
 tourists usually expend. It seemed to me that a more hum- 
 ble method of seeing the world would place within the 
 power of almost every one, what had hitherto been deemed 
 the privilege of the wealthy few. Meanwhile, two years 
 passed away, and I became an apprentice to the printing 
 business in the neighboring county town. Howitt's " Hural 
 Life in Germany," which appeared about this time, confirm- 
 ed me in my ideas, and I resolved to delay no longer, but 
 to undertake a pedestrian tour through Europe, as soon as 
 I could obtain sufficient means to start with. It was not 
 simply the desire for a roving life which impelled me ; it 
 was the wish to become acquainted with other languages 
 and other races; to behold the wonders of classic and 
 mediaeval Art ; to look upon renowned landscapes and feel 
 the magic of grand historical associations; in short, to 
 educate myself more completely and variously than my 
 situation and circumstances enabled me to do at home. 
 
 With this view, I wrote to several gentlemen who had 
 made the tour of Europe, requesting information and advice. 
 
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. ^ 19 
 
 Witliont a single exception they answered that it would be 
 impossible to travel according to the estimates I had made, 
 or without the possession of sums, which then appeared to 
 me fortunes in themselves. I was not discouraged bj their 
 replies, but, although I was entirely without money and 
 could not see where it was to come from, felt myself con- 
 tinually drawing nearer to the realization of my hopes. 
 Finally, in January, 1844, my cousin. Dr. Frank Taylor, 
 announced his determination to visit Europe, and urged me 
 to accompany him. I had still two years of my apprentice- 
 ship to serve ; the project Avas opposed by my friends as 
 something utterly visionary and impracticable ; my cousin 
 had barely sufficient means for himself, and my pockets 
 were as empty as they could well be ; but I decided to go. 
 For some months previous, I had been publishing from 
 time to time occasional boyish poems, which had procured 
 me the kind encouragement of Dr. Griswold, who was then 
 editor of " Graham's Magazine," and of Mr. N. P. Willis, 
 who was conducting the '* New Mirror." The former gen- 
 tleman had advised me to commence my literary career with 
 a small volume of these effusions, and the idea came into 
 my head that by so doing, I might — on the strength of some 
 inherent promise in the poems — obtain a newspaper corre- 
 spondence which would start me on my way. My friends, 
 whose personal kindness exceeded, for the time, their lite- 
 rary taste, subscribed for a sufficient number of copies to 
 defray the expense of publication, and in the following 
 month, a small volume of very crude verses appeared. It 
 was charitably noticed by the Philadelphia press, however, 
 and subserved my plans by introducing me to the acquaint- 
 
20 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 auce of several literary gentlemen, who promised to aid me 
 with their influence. Trusting to this faint prospect of 
 procuring employment, I made preparations to leave the 
 printing-office, which I fortunately accomplished withor^ 
 difficulty, the editor being willing to release me from my 
 engagement on conditions which I was able to fulfil. 
 
 Another friend and schoolfellow, Mr. Barclay Pennock 
 (whose recently published " E-eligion of the Northmen" has 
 made his name known to the literary world), joined my 
 cousin and myself, and we at once began to prepare for our 
 departure. I made many applications to different editors, 
 and met with nothing but disappointment. Europe was 
 already becoming familiar to the reading public, and merely 
 descriptive letters, although not yet a drug in the literary 
 market, were no longer in the same demand as formerly. 
 Two weeks before the day fixed upon for leaving home, I 
 had secured no employment, and did not possess a dollar 
 towards my outfit. I then went to Philadelphia and spent 
 two or three days in calling upon all the principal editors 
 and publishers of the city, but I seemed doomed to be 
 unsuccessful. At last, when I was about to return home, 
 not in despair, but in a state of wonder as to where my 
 funds would come from (for I felt certain they would come), 
 Mr. Patterson, at that time publisher of the Saturday Eve- 
 ning Post, offered me fifty dollars, in advance for twelve 
 letters, with the promise of continuing the engagement, if 
 the letters should be , satisfactory. The Hon. Joseph B,. 
 Chandler, editor of the United States Gazette, then made 
 me a similar offer. It is needless to say that I instantly and 
 joyfully accepted both, and thus found myself in possession 
 
INTKODUCTORY CHAPTER. 21 
 
 of one hundred dollars. Mr. George E. Graham also paid 
 me liberally for some manuscript poems, and I returned 
 home in triumph, with a fund of one hundred and forty 
 dollars, which at that time seemed sufficient to carry me to 
 the end of the world. 
 
 Our plan was to spend a year and a half in Europe, and 
 I trusted implicitly to future remuneration for letters for 
 my means, or, if that should fail, to my skill as a composi- 
 tor, for I supposed I could at the worst work my way 
 through Europe, like the German handwerkshurschen. My 
 parents, who had good reason to look upon the project at 
 first as the mad whim of a boy, were encouraged by this 
 first success, and their reluctant consent removed the only 
 shadow that hung over my dazzling hopes ; but many good 
 old country friends shook their heads gravely, predicting 
 that we would all return as repentant prodigals, in less than 
 six months. Our slender preparations were soon made. 
 My cousin and myself travelled on foot to Washington, 
 called on Mr. Calhoun, then Secretary of State, procured 
 our passports, and walked home again. We took no more 
 baggage than we could carry in our hands, for, as we antici- 
 pated being obliged to practise the strictest economy, we 
 determined to commence with the very moment of leaving 
 home. Towards the close of June the farewells were said, 
 and we went with light hearts, and by the cheapest route, 
 to New York. 
 
 I called at once upon Mr. Willis, who sympathized with 
 my own enthusiasm, and strengthened me with his hearty 
 encouragement. He gave me a note of recommendation, 
 with which I visited the editors of the leading journals, but 
 
22 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 failed to make any further engagements, except a condi- 
 tional one with Horace Greeley, of the New York Tribune. 
 When I first called upon this gentleman, whose friendship 
 it is now my pride to claim, he addressed me with that 
 honest bluntness which is habitual to him : " I am sick of 
 descriptive letters, and will have no more of them. But I 
 should like some sketches of Grerman life and society, after 
 you have been there and know something about it. If the 
 letters are good, you shall be paid for them, but don't write 
 until you know something," This I faithfully promised, 
 and kept my promise so well, that I am afraid the eighteen 
 letters which I afterwards sent from Germany, and which 
 were published in the Tribune, were dull in proportion as 
 they were wise. Mr. Willis also gave me letters to some 
 printers of his acquaintance in London, thinking they might 
 be useful in case I should be compelled to resort to my 
 handicraft. 
 
 Our first plan was to take passage to some continental 
 port, and we spent two days in' visiting the vessels in the 
 North and East Rivers, but could find none in which the 
 fare was less than fifty dollars. We were on the point of 
 embarking in a Dutch vessel, bound for Antwerp, the cap- 
 tain of which agreed to take us for that sum, after Mr. AYil- 
 lis had interceded with the consignees in our behalf; but as 
 we afterwards found we should be obliged to furnish our 
 own bedding and incur various other expenses, we relin- 
 quished this chance, calculating that a steerage passage to 
 England would cost us but half the money, while the 
 remaining twenty -five dollars would support us for at least 
 a month after pur arrival. We therefore took what was 
 
INTRODUCiOliY CHAPTER. 23 
 
 tlien called a second-cabin passage, in the ship Oxford, for 
 Liverpool. The second-cabin was a small space amid-ships, 
 flanked with bales of cotton, and fitted up with temporary- 
 berths of rough ^^lanks. We paid ten dollars apiece for the 
 passage, with the privilege of fiiiding our oAvn bedding and 
 provisions. At a warehouse of ships' stores on Pine street 
 wharf we found everything that we needed, and received 
 great assistance from the salesman, who calculated with per- 
 fect honesty and exactness what articles we should need, 
 and what quantity of each. In our inexperience we should 
 probably have gone to sea but half supplied. The ship's 
 cook, for a small compensation, undertook to prepare our, 
 provisions, thus relieving us from one of the most disagreea- 
 ble necessities of a second-class passage. On summing up 
 our expenses we were gratified to find that we should reach 
 Liverpool at a cost of twenty-four dollars apiece. 
 
 On the 1st of July, 1844, we left New York, sending a 
 last hastily pencilled note by the pilot, to our relatives at 
 home. As the blue hills of Neversink faded away and 
 sank with the sun behind the ocean, and I first felt the 
 swells of the Atlantic and the premonitions of sea-sickness, 
 my heart failed me, for the first and last time. The irre- 
 vocable step was taken ; there was no possibility of retreat, 
 and a vague sense of doubt and alarm possessed me. Had 
 I then known anything of the world this feeling would have 
 been more than momentary ; but to my ignorance and 
 enthusiasm all things seemed possible, and the thoughtless 
 and happy confidence of youth soon returned. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE VOYAGE. 
 
 The Second Cabin— Our Fellow Passengers— Sea Life- The Banks of Newfoundland- 
 Black Fish — Unfavorable Weather — The Iowa Indians— Their Songs and Dances — 
 Eaising the "Wind— Oflf the Hebrides— First Sight of Land— Scenery of the North 
 Channel — A Burial at Sea— The Isle of Man — Approach to Liverpool — Objects on 
 Landing — A Eace for the Custom House — A Day in Liverpool. 
 
 The second cabin of the Oxford was just abaft tbe main- 
 mast. A batcliway, barely large enougb to admit a man's 
 body, communicated witli the deck, or rather, with that 
 portion of it which we were allowed to frequent. Below, 
 there were eight berths and nine passengers, two of whom 
 were therefore obliged to turn in together. The lot fell 
 upon my cousin and myself, and as the berths were barely 
 wide enough for one, and not more than five feet long. I 
 suffered nightly tortures from cramped limbs. Our only 
 light came through the hatch, which was battened down in 
 stormy weather, leaving us in almost total darkness, with a 
 horrid sense of suffocation. Our box of stores, with a bag 
 of potatoes, were stowed under the berths, and our barrel of 
 pilot-bread served as a seat. Our fellow-passengers were a 
 
OUR FELLOW PASSENGERS. 25 
 
 motley company. There was an intelligent German student, 
 with a pale, melancholy face ; a wild young Englishman, 
 evidently of good family, but a runaway and heartily tired 
 of sailor life ; an honest Scotch woman, who had been two 
 years in Vermont ; two Irish grocers, and one of those indi- 
 viduals whose characters are colorless, and whose j)i*esence 
 is almost as blank as the memory of them. We were soon 
 on familiar terms, and did our best to dissipate, by harmless 
 jollity, the annoyances of our situation. The German, 
 whose whole stock of provisions consisted of ten pounds of 
 soda crackers and a few lemons, was soon thrown upon our 
 hospitality, which he accepted with a readiness that made 
 him welcome. The Scotch woman, who entertained us with 
 legends of " that terrible man, Graham of Claverhouse," 
 shared also with us her store of Vermont gingerbread, as 
 long as it lasted. The Englishman sat down beside us with 
 his platter, and encouraged a mutual exchange of delicacies ; 
 but I must do the Irish grocers the justice to say that they 
 took care of themselves and were satisfied. Capt. Rathbonc, 
 the commander of the Oxford, was a fine specimen of the 
 hearty, generous sailor character, and never ceased to treat 
 us with kindness. He gave us the use of the cabin library, 
 and ordered the steward to supply us Avith any article we 
 might need. 
 
 Could one live on the sense of beauty alone, exempt 
 from the necessity of creature comforts, a sea-voyage v/ould 
 be delightful. To the landsman there is sublimity in' the 
 wild and ever-varied forms of the ocean ; they fill his mind 
 with living images of a glory he had only dreamed of before. 
 But after a fortnight at sea we would have been willing to 
 
26 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 forego all tins and get back the comforts of the shore. The 
 days dragged on so slowly that as we approached the Euro- 
 pean side of the world, the space of a lifetime seemed to 
 separate us from the experiences of home. 
 
 As we approached the Banks of Newfoundland, a gale 
 arose, which for two days and nights carried us on, career- 
 ing Mazeppa-like, up hill and down. The sea looked truly 
 magnificent, although the sailors told us it was nothing at all 
 in comparison with the storms of winter. But we were not 
 permitted to pass the Banks, without experiencing one of 
 the calms, for which that neighborhood is noted. For three 
 days we lay almost motionless on the glassy water, some- 
 times surrounded by large flocks of sea-gulls. The weed 
 brought by the Gulf Stream floated around, and the branches 
 we fished up were full of beautiful little shells. Once a 
 large school of black-fish came around the vessel, and the 
 carpenter climbed down on the fore-chains with a harpoon, 
 to strike one. Scarcely had he taken his position, when 
 they all darted ofl" in a straight line, through the water, and 
 were soon out of sight. He gravely declared they had 
 smelt the harpoon. 
 
 We congratulated ourselves on having reached the Banks 
 in seven days, as it is considered the longest third-part of 
 the passage. But the hopes of reaching Liverpool in 
 twenty days, were soon overthrown. A succession of 
 southerly winds drove the vessel as far north as LaL 55°, 
 without bringing us much nearer our destination. It was 
 extremely cold, for we were but five degrees south of the 
 latitude of Greenland, and the long northern twilights came 
 on. The last glow of the evening twilight had scarcely 
 
INDIANS AT SEA. 2.7 
 
 faded, before the first glimmering of dawn appeared. I 
 found it extremely easy to read, at 10 P. M., on the deck. 
 
 We had much diversion on board from a company of 
 Iowa Indians, under the celebrated chief " White Cloud," 
 who were on a visit to England. They were truly a wild 
 looking company, and helped not a little to relieve the 
 tedium of the passage. The chief was a very grave and 
 dignified person, but some of the braves were merry enough. 
 One day we had a war-dance on deck, which was a most 
 ludicrous scene. The chief and two braves sat upon their 
 haunches, beating a small drum violently, and ho^A'ling forth 
 their war-song, while the others in full dress, painted in a 
 grotesque style, leaped about, brandishing tomahawks and 
 spears, and terminating each dance with a terrific yell. Some 
 of the men were quite handsome, but the squaws wei-e all 
 ugly. They occupied part of the second cabin, separated 
 only by a board partition from our room. This proximity 
 was anything but agreeable. They kept us awake more 
 than half the night, by singing and howling in the most 
 dolorous manner, with the accompaniment of slapping their 
 hands violently on their bare breasts. We tried an opposi- 
 tion, and the German made our room ring with the chorus 
 from Der Freischiitz — but in vain. They tvould howl and 
 beat their breasts, and the pappoose icould squall. Any loss 
 of temper is therefore not to be wondered at, when my 
 cramped limbs alone were enough to drive off half the night's 
 slumber. 
 
 It was a pleasure, at least, to gaze on their strong athletic 
 frames. Their massive chests and powerful limbs put to 
 shame our lean proportions. One -old man, in particular, 
 
28 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 who seemed tlie patriarch of the band, used to stand for 
 hours on the quarter-deck, sublime and motionless as a 
 statue of Jupiter. An interesting incident occurred during 
 the calm of which I spoke. They began to be fearful we 
 were doomed to remain there forever, unless the spirits were 
 invoked for a favorable wind. Accordingly the prophet lit 
 his pipe and smoked with great deliberation, muttering all 
 the while in a low voice. Then, having obtained a bottle of 
 beer from the captain, he poured it solemnly over the stern 
 of the vessel into the sea. There were some indications of 
 wind at the time, and accordingly the next morning we had 
 a fine breeze, which the lowas attributed solely to the 
 Prophet's incantation and the offering of beer. 
 
 After a succession of calms and adverse winds, on the 
 25th we were off the Hebrides, and though not within sight 
 of land the southern winds came to us strongly freighted 
 with the meadow freshness of the Irish bogs, so we could at 
 least smell it. That day the wind became more favorable, 
 and the next morning we were all roused out of our berths 
 by sunrise, at the long wished-for cry of "land!" Just 
 under the golden flood of light that streamed through the 
 morning clouds, lay afar-off and indistinct the crags of an 
 island, with the top of a light-house visible at one extremity. 
 To the south of it, and barely distinguishable, so completely 
 was it blended in hue with the veiling cloud, loomed up a 
 lofty mountain. I shall never forget the sight. As we drew 
 nearer, the dim and soft outline it first wore, was broken into 
 a range of crags, with lofty precipices jutting out to the sea, 
 and sloping off inland. The white wall of the light-house 
 shone in the morning's light, and the foam of the breakers 
 
THE NORTH CHANNEL. 29 
 
 dashed up at the foot of the any cliffs. It was worth all the 
 troubles of a long voyage, to feel the glorious excitement 
 which this herald of new scenes and new adventures created. 
 The light-house was on Tory Island, on the north-western 
 coast of Ireland. The captain decided on taking the North 
 Channel, as it was in our case nearer, as well as more interest- 
 ing than the usual route. 
 
 We passed the Island of Ennistrahul, near the entrance 
 of Londonderry harbor, and at sunset saw in the distance 
 the islands of Islay and Jura, off the Scottish coast. Next 
 morning we were close to the promontory of Fairhead, a 
 bold, precipitous headland, like some of the Palisades on the 
 Hudson ; the highlands of the Mull of Cantire were on the 
 opposite side of the Channel, and the wind being ahead, we 
 tacked from shore to shore, running so near the Irish coast, 
 that we could see the little thatched huts, stacks of peat, 
 and even rows of potatoes in the fields. It Avas a cheering 
 panorama : the view extended for miles inland, and the 
 fields of different colored grain were spread out before us, a 
 brilliant mosaic. Towards evening we passed Ailsa Crag, 
 the sea-birds' home, within sight, though about twenty miles 
 distant. Some fishermen came off to us, towards evening, 
 and we succeeded in exchanging a few pounds of pilot bread 
 for fresh fish, which, fried by our black cook, made us a 
 feast fit for the Gods. Our provisions, which had held out 
 remarkably well, were almost entirely exhausted, and this 
 unexpected supply was as welcome to us as the loaves and 
 fishes to the famished multitude. 
 
 On Sunday, the 28th, we passed the lofty headland of the 
 Mull of Galloway and entered the Irish Sea. Here there 
 
30 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 was an occurrence of an impressive nature. A woman 
 belonging to the steerage, who had been ill/ the whole pas- 
 sage, died the morning before. She appeared to be of a very 
 avaricious disposition, though this might indeed have been 
 the result of a laudable self-denial. In the morning she was 
 speechless, and while they were endeavoring to persuade her 
 to give up her keys to the captain, died. In her pocket were 
 found two parcels, containing forty sovereigns, sewed up with 
 the most miserly care. It was ascertained she had a widowed 
 mother in the north of Ireland, and judging her money 
 could be better applied than to paying for a funeral on 
 shore, the captain gave orders for committing the body to the 
 waves. It rained drearily as her corpse, covered with starred 
 bunting, was held at the gangway while the captain read the 
 funeral service ; then one plunge was heard, and a white ob- 
 ject flashed up through the dark waters, as the ship passed on. 
 In the afternoon we passed the Isle of Man, having a 
 beautiful view of the Calf, with a white stream tumxbling 
 down the rocks into the sea ; and at night saw the sun set 
 behind the mountains of Wales. About midnight, the pilot 
 came on board, and soon after sunrise I saw the distant 
 spires of Liverpool. The Welsh coast was studded with 
 windmills, all in motion, and the harbor spotted with buoys, 
 bells and floating lights. How delightful it was to behold 
 the green trees on the banks of the Mersey, and to know 
 that in a few hours we should be on land ! About 1 1 
 o'clock we came to anchor in the channel of the Mersey, 
 near the docks, and after much noise, bustle and confusion, 
 were transferred, with our baggage, to a small steamboat, 
 giving a parting cheer to the lowas, who remained on board. 
 
A RACE FOR THE CUSTOM HOUSE. 31 
 
 On landing, I halted a moment to observe the scene. The 
 baggage-wagons, drawn by horses, mules and donkeys, were 
 extraordinary objects to my eyes ; men were going about 
 crying '^ the celebrated Tralonim gingerbread T^ which they ' 
 carried in baskets, and a boy with long blue gown and yel- 
 low knee-breeches, was running to the wharf to look at the 
 Indians. A man came up to me, exclaiming, " These are the 
 genuine Tralorums!" and hunger (for our supplies were all 
 gone), combined with curiosity, induced me to purchase some 
 of them. I was not in a good condition to discriminate, but 
 I found the Tralorums worthy of their great renown. 
 
 At last, the carts were all loaded, the word was given to 
 start, and then, what a scene ensued ! Away went the 
 mules, the horses and the donkeys ; away ran men and 
 women and children, carrying chairs and trunks, and boxes 
 and bedding. The wind was blowing, and the dust whirled 
 up as they dashed helter-skelter through the gate and 
 started off on a hot race, down the dock to the customs 
 office. Two wagons came together, one of which was over- 
 turned, scattering the broken boxes of a Scotch family over 
 the pavement ; but while the poor woman was crying over 
 her loss, the tide swept on, scarcely taking time to glance at 
 the mishap. 
 
 The wild Englishman advised us to go to the Chorley 
 Tavern, where we could get a good dinner. On finding a 
 porter who knew where it was, we trusted ourselves entirely 
 to his guidance. Taking our baggage, he signified by a 
 mysterious sign, that we should follow him, and marched 
 directly into the city. We had gone about a hundred yards 
 and had lost sight of the Custom House, when one of the 
 
32 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 officers came up at full speed and commanded us to return 
 and submit our baggage to the usual examination. I antici- 
 pated a rough handling, but everything we had was passed 
 with little trouble, the officer merely opening the trunks and 
 pressing his hands on the top. Even some American 
 reprints of English works which my companion carried, and 
 feared would be taken from him, were passed over without 
 a word. I was agreeably surprised at this, as from the 
 accounts of some travellers, I had been led to fear horrible 
 things of custom-houses. This over, we took a stroll about 
 the city, I was first struck by seeing so many people 
 walking in the middle of the streets, and so many gentlemen 
 going about with pinks stuck in their button-holes. Then, 
 the houses being all built of brown stone or dark brick, 
 gives the town a sombre appearance, which the sunshine 
 (when there is any) cannot dispel. Of Liverpool we saw 
 little except that bountiful dinner at the Chorley Tavern — a 
 meal ever to be remembered. Before the twilight had 
 wholly faded, we were again tossing on the rough waves of 
 the Irish Sea. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 A DAY IN IRELAND. 
 
 Leaving Liverpool— The Second Cabin again— Irish Fellow Passengers — The Channel 
 —The Northern Coast of Ireland— Port Rush— A Eainy Day— An Irish Hut— 
 Dunluce Castle — Eain and Euin — The Giant's Causeway — The Giant's Well — 
 Basaltic Columns — The Giant's Organ, and Chimneys — A Coast Scene — The Shore 
 at Night— Wandering in the Storm- Eeturn to Port Eush. 
 
 Instead of going directly to London, we decided to take 
 Scotland in our way, as the season was favorable for a pedes- 
 trian tour in the Highlands. But there was no boat to 
 leave for Glasgow for two days, and rather than spend the 
 time uselessly in Liverpool, we embarked on board a small 
 steamer for Londonderry, which was to* stop at Port Rush, 
 near the Giant's Causeway. The German student, who was 
 bound for Paris, sent his baggage to Havre, retaining only a 
 knapsack, and joined us for the trip. We also forwarded 
 our portmanteaus to London, and took with us only the most 
 necessary articles of clothing. On calling at the steamboat 
 office we found that the fare in the fore cabin was but two 
 shillings and a half, while in the chief cabin it was six times 
 as much. As I had started to make the tour of all Europe 
 
34 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 with a sum little higher than is given for the mere passage 
 across the ocean, there was no alternative — the twenty -four 
 hours' discomfort could be more easily endured than the 
 expense, and as I expected to encounter many hardships, it 
 was best to make a beginning, I had crossed the ocean 
 with tolerable comfort for twenty-four dollars, and was 
 determined to try whether England, where I had been told 
 it was almost impossible to breathe without expense, might 
 not also be seen on the same scale of expenditure. We 
 accordingly took our tickets, and laid in a stock of bread 
 and cheese for provision on the way. 
 
 The fore cahin was merely a bare room, with a bench 
 along one side, which was occupied by half a dozen Irish- 
 men in knee-breeches and heavy brogans. As we passed 
 out of the Clarence Dock at 10 P. M., I went below and 
 managed to get a seat on one end of the bench, where I 
 spent the night in sleepless misery. The Irish bestowed 
 themselves about the floor as they best could, for there was 
 no light, and very soon the deepness of their snoring gave 
 token of blissful unconsciousness. 
 
 The next morning was misty and rainy, but I preferred 
 walking the deck and drying myself occasionally beside the 
 chimney, to sitting in the dismal room below. We passed 
 the Isle of Man, and through the whole forenoon were 
 tossed about very disagreeably in the North Channel. In 
 the afternoon we stopped at Larne, a little antiquated village, 
 not far from Belfast, at the head of a crooked arm of the 
 sea. There is an old ivy-grown tower near, and high green 
 mountains rise up around. After leaving it, we had a beau- 
 tiful panoramie view of the northern coast. Many of the 
 
AN IRISH HUT. 35 
 
 precipices are of the same formation as the Causeway ; 
 Fairhead, a promontory of this kind, is grand in the extreme. 
 The perpendicular face of fluted rock is about three hundred 
 feet in height, and towering up sublimely from the water, 
 seemed almost to overhang our heads. My companion com- 
 pared it to Niagara Falls petrified ; and I thought the simile 
 very striking. It is like a cataract falling in huge waves, 
 in some places leaping out from a projecting rock, in others 
 descending in an unbroken sheet. 
 
 We passed the Giant's Causeway after dark, and about 
 eleven o'clock reached the harbor of Port Rush, where, after 
 stumbling up a strange old street, in the dark, we found a 
 little inn, and soon forgot the Irish Coast and everything 
 else. 
 
 In the morning when we arose it was raining, with little 
 prospect of fair weather, but having expected nothing better, 
 we set out on foot for the Causeway. The rain, however, 
 soon came down in torrents, and we were obliged to take 
 shelter in a cabin by the road- side. The Avhole house con- 
 sisted of one room, with bare walls and roof, and earthen 
 floor, while a window of three or four panes supplied the 
 light. A fire of peat was burning on the hearth, and the 
 breakfast, of potatoes alone, stood on the table. The occu- 
 pants received us with rude but genuine hospitality, giving 
 us the only seats in the room to sit upon ; except a rickety 
 bedstead that stood in one corner and a small table, there 
 was no other furniture in the house. The man appeared 
 rather intelligent, and although he complained of the hard- 
 ness of their lot, had no sympathy vfith O'Connell or the 
 Repeal movement. 
 
36 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 We left this miserable hut as soon as it ceased raining — 
 and, though there were many cabins along the road, few 
 were better than this. At length, after passing the walls of 
 an old church, in the midst of older tombs, we saw the roof- 
 less towers of Dunluce Oastle, on the sea-shore. It stands 
 on an isolated rock, rising perpendicularly two hundred feet 
 above the sea, and connected with the cliffs of the mainland 
 by a narrow arch of masonry. On the summit of the cliffs 
 are the remains of the buildings where the ancient lords 
 kept their vassals. An old man, who takes care of the cas- 
 tle for Lord Antrim, on whose property it is situated, show- 
 ed us the way down the cliff. We walked across the 
 narrow arch, entered the ruined hall, and looked down on the 
 roaring sea below. It still rained, the wind swept furiously 
 through the decaying arches of the banqueting hall and 
 waved the long grass on the desolate battlements. Far 
 below, the sea foamed white on the breakers and sent up an 
 unceasing boom. It was the most mournful and desolate 
 picture I had ever beheld. There were some low dungeons 
 yet entire, and rude stairways, where, by stooping down, I 
 could ascend nearly to the top of one of the towers, and 
 look out on the wild scenery of the coast. 
 
 Going back, I found a way down the cliff, to the mouth of 
 a cavern in the rock, which extends under the whole castle 
 to the sea. Sliding down a heap of sand and stones, I stood 
 under an arch eighty feet high ; in front the breakers dashed 
 into the entrance, flinging the spray half-way to the roof, 
 while the sound rang up through the arches like thunder. 
 It seemed to me the haunt of the old Norse sea-gods ! 
 
 We left the road near Dunluce and walked along the 
 
THE giant's causeway. 37 
 
 gmootli beach to tlie cliffs that surround the Causeway. 
 Here we obtained a guide, and descended to one of the 
 caves which can be entered from the shore. Opposite the 
 entrance a bare rock called Sea Gull Isle, rises out of the 
 sea like a church steeple. The roof at first was low, but we 
 shortly came to a branch that opened on the sea, where the 
 arch was forty-six feet in height. The breakers dashed far 
 into the cave, and flocks of sea-birds circled round its mouth. 
 The sound of a gun was like a deafening peal of thunder, 
 crashing from arch to arch till it rolled out of the cavern. 
 
 On the top of *he hill a spacious hotel is erected for visi- 
 tors to the Causeway ; after passing this we descended to 
 the base of the cliffs, which are here upwards of four hun- 
 dred feet high, and soon began to find, in the columnar- 
 formation of the rocks, indications of our approach to the 
 spot. The guide pointed out some columns which appeared 
 to have been melted and run together, from which Sir Hum- 
 phrey Davy attributed the formation of the Causeway to the 
 action of fire. Near this is the Giant's "Well, a spring of the 
 purest water, the bottom formed by three perfect hexagons, 
 and the sides of regular columns. One of us observing that 
 no giant had ever drunk from it, the old man answered — 
 " Perhaps not : but it was made by a giant — God Almighty !" 
 
 From the well, the Causeway commences — a mass of 
 columns from triangular to octagonal, lying in compact forms, 
 and extending into the sea. I was somewhat disappointed 
 at first, having supp/)sed the Causeway to be of great height, 
 but I found the Giant's Loom, which is the highest part of 
 it, to be but about fifty feet from the water. The singular 
 appearance of the columns and the many strange forms 
 
38 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 wliicli they assume, render it, nevertheless, an object of the 
 greatest interest. Walking out on the rocks we came to the 
 Ladies' Chair, the seat, back, sides and footstool, being all 
 regularly formed by the broken columns. The guide said 
 that any lady who would take three drinks from the Giant's 
 Well, then sit in this chair and think of any gentleman for 
 whom she had a preference, would be married before a 
 twelvemonth. I asked him if it would answer as well for 
 gentlemen, for by a wonderful coincidence we had each 
 drunk three times at the well! He said it would, and 
 thought he was confirming his statement., 
 
 A cluster of columns about half-way up the cliff is called 
 the Giant's Organ — from its very striking resemblance to 
 that instrument, and a single rock, worn by the waves into 
 the shape of a rude seat, is his chair. A mile or two further 
 along the coast, two cliffs project from the range, leaving a 
 vast semicircular space between, which, from its resemblance 
 to the old Roman theatres, was appropriated for that pur- 
 pose by the Giant. Half-way down the crags are two or 
 three pinnacles of rock, called the Chimneys, and the 
 stumps of several others can be seen, which, it is said, were 
 shot off by a vessel belonging to the Spanish Armada, in 
 mistake for the towers of Dunluce Castle. The vessel was 
 afterwards wrecked in the bay below, which has ever since 
 been called Spanish Bay, and in calm weather the wreck 
 may be still seen. Many of the columns of the Causeway 
 have been carried off and sold as pillars for mantels— and 
 though a notice is put up threatening persons with the rigor 
 of the law, depredations are occasionally made. 
 
THE SHORE AT NIGHT. 39 
 
 Returning, we left tlie road at Dunluce, and took a path 
 Wliich led along tlie summit of the cliffs. Tlie twilight was 
 gathering and the wind blew with great fury, which, com- 
 bined with the black and stormy sky, gave the coast an air 
 of extreme wildness. All at once, as we followed the wind- 
 ing path, the crags appeared to open before us, disclosing a 
 yawning chasm, -down which a large stream, falling in an 
 unbroken sheet, was lost in the gloom below. Witnessed in 
 a calm day, there may perhaps be nothing striking about it, 
 but coming upon us at once, through the gloom of twilight, 
 with the sea thundering below and a scowling sky above, it 
 was absolutely startling. 
 
 The path at last wound, with many a steep and slippery 
 bend, down the almost perpendicular crags, to the shore, at 
 the foot of a giant isolated rock, having a natural arch 
 through it, eighty feet in height. We followed the narrow 
 strip of beach, having the bare crags on one side and a line 
 of foaming breakers on the other. It soon grew dark ; a 
 furious storm came up and swept like a hurricane along the 
 shore. I then understood what Home means by " the 
 lengthening javelins of the blast,'' for every drop seemed to 
 strike with the force of an arrow, and our clothes were soon 
 pierced in every part. 
 
 Then we went up among the sand hills, and lost each 
 other in the darkness, when, after stumbling about among 
 the gullies for half an hour, shouting for my companions, I 
 found the road and heard my call answered ; but it happen- 
 ed to be two Irishmen, who came up and said — " And is it 
 another gintleman ye're callin' for? we heard some one 
 cryin', and didn't know but somebody might be kilt." 
 
40 VIEWS A FOOT. 
 
 Finally, about eleven o'clock we all arrived at the inn, 
 dripping with rain, and before a warm fire concluded the 
 adventures of our day in Ireland. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 BEN LOMOND AND THE HIGHLAND LAZES. 
 
 Passage to Greenock — ^The Deck Passengers — Arrival at Night — The Blind Fiddler-* 
 Dumbarton Eock — An Adventure—" On Leven's Banks " — Loch Lomond — Voyage 
 np the Lake — Anecdotes — Sailing on a Meadow — The Ascent of Ben Lomond — 
 View from the Summit — The Descent — Highland Scenery — Loch Katrine — The 
 Boatmen — Trip down the Lake — Ellen's Isle — The Trosachs — The Inn of Ard- 
 cheancrochan. 
 
 The steamboat Londonderry called tlie next day at Port 
 E-usli, and we left in lier for Greenock. We ran down tlie 
 Irish coast, past Dunluce Castle and the Causeway ; the 
 Giant's Organ was very plainly visible, and the winds were 
 strong enough to have sounded a storm song upon it. Far- 
 ther on we had a distant view of Carrick-a-Rede, a precipi- 
 tous rock, separated by a yawning chasm from the shore, 
 frequented by the catchers of sea-birds. A narrow swing- 
 ing bridge, which is only passable in calm weather, crosses 
 this chasm, two hundred feet above the water. 
 
 The deck of the steamer was crowded with Irish, and cer- 
 tainly gave no very favorable impression of the condition 
 of the peasantry of Ireland. On many of their counte- 
 
42 VIEWS A-FOOT. • 
 
 nances there was scarcely a mark of intelligence ; they were 
 a most brutalized and degraded company of beings. Many 
 of them were in a beastly state of intoxication, which, from 
 the contents of the pockets of some, was not likely to 
 decrease. As evening drew on, two or three began singing, 
 and the others collected in groups around them. One of 
 them, who sang with great spirit, was loudly applauded, and 
 poured forth song after song, of the most vulgar and inde- 
 cent character. 
 
 We took a deck passage for three shillings, in preference 
 to paying twenty for the cabin, and having secured a vacant 
 place near the chimney, kept it during the whole passage. 
 The waves were as rough in the Channel as I had seen them 
 on the Atlantic, and our boat was tossed about like a play- 
 thing. By keeping still, we escaped sickness, but we could 
 not avoid the sight of the miserable beings who crowded 
 the deck. Many of them spoke in the Irish tongue, and 
 our German friend (the student whom I have already men- 
 tioned) noticed in many of the words a resemblance to his 
 mother tongue. I procured a bowl of soup from the stew- 
 ard, but it was so greasy and repulsive that I was unable to 
 eat it, and gave it to an old man whose hungry look and 
 wistful eyes convinced me it would not be lost on him. He 
 swallowed it with ravenous avidity, together with a crust of 
 bread, which was all I had to give him, and seemed for the 
 time as happy and cheerful as if all his earthly wants were 
 satisfied. 
 
 We passed by the foot of Groat Fell, a lofty mountain on 
 the island of Arran, and sped on through the darkness past 
 the hills of Bute, till we entered the Clyde. We arrived at 
 
THE BLIND FIDDLER. 43 
 
 Greenock at one o'clock at night. All the houses were 
 closed, and we walked for some time at random through its 
 silent streets, until we met a policeman, to whom we stated our 
 case, and asked him to show us where we might find cheap 
 lodgings. He took my cousin and myself to the house of a 
 poor widow, who had a spare bed which she let to strangers, 
 and then conducted our comrade and the German to another 
 similar lodging-place. 
 
 An Irish strolling musician, who was on board the Dum- 
 barton boat, commenced playing soon after we left Greenock 
 next morning, and, to my surprise, struck at once into '• Hail 
 Columbia.'* Then he gave 'the Exile of Erin," with the 
 most touching sweetness ; and I noticed that always after 
 playing any air that was desired of him, he would invariably 
 return to the sad lament, which I never heard executed with 
 more feeling. It might have been the mild, soft air of the 
 morning, or some peculiar mood of mind that influenced me, 
 but I have been far less affected by music which would be 
 considered im^measurably superior to his. I had been think- 
 ing of America, and going up to the old man, I quietly bade 
 him play " Home." It thrilled with a painful delight that 
 almost brought tears to my eyes. My companion started as 
 the sweet melody arose, and turned towards me, his face 
 kindling with emotion. 
 
 Dumbarton Hock rose higher and higher as we went up 
 the Clyde, and before we arrived at the town I hailed the 
 dim outline of Ben Lomond, rising far off among the high- 
 lands. The town is at the head of a small inlet, a short 
 distance from the rock, which was once surrounded by Avater. 
 We went immediately to the Castle. The rock is nearly 
 
44 VIEWS A-rooT. 
 
 500 feet high, and from its position and great strength as a 
 fortress has been called the Gibraltar of Scotland. The 
 top is surrounded with battlements, and the armory and 
 barracks stand in a gap between the two peaks. We passed 
 down a green lane, around the rock, and entered the Castle 
 on the south side. A soldier conducted us through a narrow 
 cleft, overhung with crags, to the summit. Here, from the 
 remains of a round building, called Wallace's Tower, from 
 its having been used as a look-out station by that chieftain, 
 we had a beautiful view of the whole of Leven Yale to 
 Loch Lomond, Ben Lomond and the Highlands, and on the 
 other hand, the Clyde and the Isle of Bute. In the soft 
 and still balminess of the morning, it was a lovely picture. 
 In the armory, I lifted the sword of Wallace, a two-handed 
 weapon, five feet in length. We also examined a Locha- 
 ber battle-axe, from Bannockburn, and several ancient 
 claymores. I had a little adventure at Dumbarton, which 
 came near bringing my travels to a sudden termination, 
 Noticing a bunch of pink mallows growing in a crevice of 
 the rock, seventy or eighty feet from the ground, I climbed 
 up the projecting points to get them. The rock at last 
 became perpendicular, and I only found a little notch where 
 I could rest the end of one foot. The mallows were still 
 just beyond my reach, whereupon I caught hold of a bunch 
 of tough grass with one hand, and drew myself slowly up 
 until I plucked the flowers with the other. On lowering 
 myself back again, I could not find the notch, and hung thus 
 by one hand to the frail bunch of grass, which threatened 
 to give way beneath my weight. It could not have been 
 many seconds before I recovered the slender foothold, but 
 
" ON leven's banks." 46 
 
 when I readied the ground I was bathed from head to foot 
 in a cold persphation, and had some difficulty in concealing 
 from my comrades the faintness I felt. 
 
 We lingered long upon the summit before we forsook the 
 stern fortress for the sweet vale spread out before us. It 
 was indeed a glorious walk, from Dumbarton to Loch 
 Lomond, through this enchanting valley. The air was mild 
 and clear ; a few light clouds occasionally crossing the sky, 
 chequered the hills with sun and shade. I have as yet seen 
 nothing that in pastoral beauty can compare with its glassy 
 winding stream, its mossy old woods, and guarding hills — 
 and the ivy-grown, castellated towers embosomed in its 
 forests, or standing on the banks of the Leven — the purest 
 of rivers. At a little village called Renton, is a monument 
 to Smollett, but the inhabitants seem to neglect his memory, 
 as one of the tablets on the pedestal is broken and half 
 fallen away. Further up the vale a farmer showed us an 
 old mansion in the midst of a group of trees on the lank of 
 the Leven, which he said belonged to Smollett — or Roderick 
 Random, as he called him. Two or three old pear trees, 
 under which he was accustomed to play in his childhood, 
 were still standing where the garden had formerly been. 
 
 At the head of Leven Vale, we set oflP in the steamer 
 ''Water Witch'' over the crystal waters of Loch Lomond, 
 passing Inch Murrin, the deer-park of the Duke of Mon- 
 trose, and Inch Caillach, 
 
 " where gray pines wave 
 
 Their shadows o'er Clan Alpine's grave." 
 
 Under the clear sky and golden light of the declining sun, 
 
46 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 we entered the Higlilands, and heard on every side names 
 we had learned long ago in the lays of Scott. Here were 
 Glen Fruin and Bannochar, E-oss Dhu and the pass of Beal- 
 ma-na. Further still, we passed Rob Roy's rock, where the 
 lake is locked in by lofty mountains. The cone like peak 
 of Ben Lomond rises far above on the right, Ben Yoirlicli 
 stands in front, and the jagged crest of Ben Arthur looks 
 over the shoulders of the western hills. A Scotchman on 
 board pointed out to us the remarkable places, and related 
 many interesting legends. Above Inversnaid, where there 
 is a beautiful waterfall, leaping over the rock and glancing 
 out from the overhanging birches, we passed McFarland's 
 Island, concerning the origin of which name he gave a 
 history. A nephew of one of the old Earls of Lennox, the 
 ruins of whose castle we saw on Inch Murrin, having mur- 
 dered his uncle's cook in a quarrel, was obTiged to flee for 
 his life. Returning after many years, he built a castle upon 
 this island, which was ahvays afterwards named, on account 
 of his exile. Far-land. On a precipitous point above Inver- 
 snaid, are two caves in the rock ; one near the water is called 
 Rob Roy's, though the guides generally call it Bruce's also, 
 to avoid trouble, as the real Bruce's Cave is high up the hill. 
 It is so called, because Bruce hid there one night, from the 
 pursuit of his enemies. It is related that a mountain goat, 
 who used this probably for a sleeping place, entered, trod on 
 his mantle, and aroused him. Thinking his enemies were 
 upon him, he sprang up, and saw the silly animal before him. 
 In token of gratitude for this agreeable surprise, when he 
 became king, a law was passed, declaring goats free through- 
 out all Scotland — unpupishable for whatever trespass they 
 
VOYAGE UP LOCH LOMOKD. 47 
 
 miglit commit, and the legend further says, that not having 
 been repealed, it remains on the statute books at the present 
 
 day. 
 
 On the opposite shore of the lake is a large rock, called 
 •' Bull's Rock," having a door in the side, with a stairway 
 cut through the interior to a pulpit on the top, from which 
 the pastor at Arroquhar preaches a monthly discourse. The 
 Gaelic legend of the rock is, that it once stood near the 
 summit of the mountain above, and was very nearly balanced 
 on the edge of a precipice. Two wild bulls, fighting vio- 
 lently, dashed with great force against the rock, which, 
 being thrown from its balance, was tumbled down the side 
 of the mountain, until it reached its present position. The 
 Scot was speaking with great bitterness of the betrayal of 
 Wallace, when I asked him if it was still considered an 
 insult to turn a loaf of bread bottom upwards in the pre- 
 sence of a Monteith. " Indeed it is, sir," said he, "I have 
 often done it myself." 
 
 Until last May, travellers were taken no higher up the 
 lake than Rob Roy's Cave, but another boat having com- 
 menced running, they can now go beyond Loch Lomond, 
 two miles np Glen Falloch, to the Inn of Inverarnan, thereby 
 visiting some of the finest scenery in that part of the High- 
 lands. It was ludicrous, however, to see the steamboat on 
 a river scarcely wider than herself, in a little valley, hemmed 
 in completely with lofty mountains. She went on, however, 
 pushing aside the thickets which lined both banks, and I 
 began to think she was going to take the shore for it, when 
 we came to a place widened out for her to be turned around 
 
48 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 in ; here we jumped ashore in a green meadow, on which 
 the cool mist was beginning to descend. 
 
 When we arose in the morning, at four o'clock, to return 
 with the boat, the sun was already shining upon the west- 
 ward hills, scarcely a cloud was in the sky, and the air was 
 pure and cool. To our great delight Ben Lomond was 
 unshrouded, and we were told that a more favorable day for 
 the ascent had not occurred for two months. We left the 
 boat at Rowardennan, an inn at the southern base of Ben 
 Lomond. After breakfasting on Loch Lomond trout, I stole 
 out to the shore while my companions were preparing for 
 the ascent, and made a hasty sketch of the lake. 
 
 We purposed descending on the northern side and cross- 
 ing the Highlands to Loch Katrine. Although it was repre- 
 sented as difficult and dangerous by the guide who v/ished to 
 accompany us, we determined to run the risk of being 
 enveloped in a cloud on the summit, and so set out alone, 
 the path appearing plain before us. We had no difficulty 
 in following it up the lesser heights, around the base. It 
 wound on, over rock and bog, among the heather and broom 
 with which the mountain is covered, sometimes running up 
 a steep acclivity, and then winding zigzag around a rocky 
 ascent. The rains two days before, had made the bogs 
 damp and muddy, but with this exception, we had little 
 trouble for some time. Ben Lomond is a doubly formed 
 mountain For about three- fourths of the way there is a 
 continued ascent, when it is suddenly terminated by a large 
 barren plain, from one end of which the summit shoots up 
 abruptly, forming at the northern side a precipice five hun- 
 
CLIMBING BEN LOMOND. 49 
 
 dred feet high. As we approached the summit of the first 
 part of the mountain, the way became very steep and toil- 
 some ; hut the prospect, which had before been only on the 
 south side, began to open on the east, and we saw suddenly 
 spread out below us, the vale cf Menteith, with *' far Loch 
 Ard and Aberfoil " in the centre, and the huge front of 
 Benvenue filling up the picture. Taking courage from this 
 sight, we hurried on. The heather had become stunted 
 and dwarfish, and the ground was covered with short brown 
 grass. The mountain sheep, which we saw looking at us 
 from the rock above, had worn so many paths along the 
 side, that we could not tell which to take, but pushed on in 
 the direction of the summit, till thinking it must be near at 
 hand, we found a mile and a half of plain before us, with 
 the top of Ben Lomond at the farther end. The plain was 
 full of wet moss, crossed in all directions by. deep ravines or 
 gullies worn in it by the mountain rains, and the windswept 
 across with a tempest-like force. 
 
 I met near the base, a young gentleman from Edinburgh, 
 who had left Rowardennan before us, and we commenced 
 ascending together. It was hard work, but neither liked to 
 stop, so we climbed up to the first resting place, and found 
 the path leading along the brink of a precipice. We soon 
 attained the summit, and mounting a little mound of earth 
 and stones, I saw the half of Scotland at a glance. The 
 clouds hung just above the mountain tops, which rose all 
 around like the waves of a mighty sea. On every side — 
 near and far— stood their misty summits, but Ben Lomond 
 was the monarch of them all. Loch Lomond lay unrolled 
 under my feet like a beautiful map, and just opposite, Loch 
 3 
 
60 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 Long thrust its head from between the feet of the crowded 
 hills to catch a glimpse of the giant. We could see from 
 Ben Nevis to Ayr — from Edinburgh to Staffa. Stirling and 
 Edinburgh Castles would have been visible, but that the 
 clouds hung low in the valley of the Forth and hid them 
 from our sight. 
 
 The view from Ben Lomond is nearly twice as extensive 
 as that from Oatskill, being uninterrupted on every side, but 
 it wants the glorious forest scenery, clear, blue sky, and 
 active, rejoicing character of the latter. We stayed about 
 two hours on the summit, taking refuge behind the cairn, 
 when the wind blew strong. I found the smallest of flowers 
 under a rock, and brought it away as a memento. In the 
 middle of the precipice there is a narrow ravine or rather 
 cleft in the rock, to the bottom, from whence the mountain 
 slopes regularly but steeply down to the valley. At the 
 bottom we stopped to awake the echoes, which were repeat- 
 ed four times ; our German companion sang the Hunter's 
 Chorus, which resounded magnificently through this High- 
 land hall. We drank from the river Forth which starts from 
 a spring at the foot of the rock, and then commenced de- 
 scending. This was also toilsome enough. The mountain 
 was quite wet and covered with loose stones, which, dis- 
 lodged by our feet, went rattling down the side, oftentimes 
 to the danger of the foremost ones ; and when we had run 
 or rather slid down the three miles, to the bottom, our knees 
 trembled so as scarcely to support us. 
 
 Here, at a cottage on the farm of Coman, we procured 
 some oat cakes and milk for dinner, from an old Scotch wo- 
 man, who pointed out the direction of Loch Katrine, six 
 
SCENERY OF THE HIGHLANDS. ' 61 
 
 miles distant ; there was no road, nor indeed a solitary dwell- 
 ing between. The hills were bare of trees, covered with 
 scraggy bushes and rough heath, which in some places was 
 so thick that we could scarcely drag our feet through. Added 
 to this, the ground was covered with a kind of moss that 
 retained the moisture like a sponge, so that our boots ere 
 long became thoroughly soaked. Several large streams 
 were rushing down the declivities, and many of the wild 
 breed of black Highland cattle were grazing around. After 
 climbing up and down one or two heights, occasionally 
 startling the moorcock and ptarmigan from their heathery 
 coverts, we saw the valley of Loch Con ; while in the middle 
 of the plain on the top of the mountain we had ascended, 
 was a sheet of water which we took to be Loch Achill. 
 Two or three wild fowl swimming on its surface were the 
 only living things in sight. The peaks around shut it out 
 from all view of the world ; a single decayed tree leaned 
 over it from a mossy rock, and gave the whole scene an 
 air of the most desolate wildness. I forget the name of the 
 lake ; but we learned afterwards that the Highlanders con- 
 sider it the abode of the fairies, or " men of peace," and that it 
 is still superstitiously shunned by them after nightfall. 
 
 From the next mountain we saw Loch Achill and Loch 
 Katrine below, but a wet and weary descent had yet to be 
 made. I was about throwing off my knapsack on a rock, 
 to take a sketch of Loch Katrine, which appeared very 
 beautiful from this point, when we discerned a cavalcade of 
 ponies winding along the path from Inversnaid to the head 
 of the lake, and hastened down to take the boat when 
 they should arrive. Our haste turned out to be unnecessary, 
 
62 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 however, for they had to wait for their luggage, which was 
 long in coming. Two boatmen then offered to take us for 
 two shillmgs and sixpence each, with the privilege of stop- 
 ping at Ellen's Isle ; the regular fare being two shillings. 
 We got in, when, after exchanging a few words in Gaelic, 
 one of them called to the travellers, of whom there were 
 a number, to come and take passage at two shillings — then 
 at one and sixpence, and finally concluded by requesting 
 them all to step on board the shilling boat ! At length, 
 having secured nine at this reduced price, we pushed off ; 
 one of the passengers took the helm, and the boat glided 
 merrily over the clear water. 
 
 It appears there is some opposition among the boatmen 
 this summer, which is all the better for travellers. They are 
 a bold race, and still preserve many of the characteristics 
 of the clan from which they sprung. One of ours, who had 
 a chieftain-like look, was a MacGregor, related to Rob Hoy. 
 The fourth descendant in a direct line, now inhabits the 
 Eob Roy mansion, at Glengyle, a valley at the head of the 
 lake. A small steamboat was put upon Loch Katrine a 
 short time ago, but the boatmen, jealous of this new invasion 
 of their privilege, one night towed her out to the middle of 
 the lake and there sunk her. 
 
 Near the point of Brianchoil is a very small island with a, 
 few trees upon it, of which the boatman related a story that 
 was new to me. He said an eccentric individual, many 
 years ago, built his house upon it — but it was soon beaten 
 down by the winds and waves. Having built it up with 
 like fortune several times, he at last desisted, saying, 
 " bought wisdom was the best ;" since when it has been call- 
 
THE BOATxMEN OF LOCH KATRINE. ' 53 
 
 ed the Island of Wisdom. On the shore below, the boat- 
 man showed us his cottage. The whole family were out at 
 the door to witness our progress ; he hoisted a flag, and when 
 we came opposite, they exchanged shouts in Gaelic. As 
 our men resumed their oars again, we assisted in giving three 
 cheers, which made all the echoes of Benvenue ring. 
 Some one observed his dog, looking after us from a project- 
 ing rock, when he called out to him, " go home, you brute !" 
 We asked him why he did not speak Gaelic also to his dog. 
 "Very few dogs, indeed," said he, "understand Gaelic, but 
 they all understand English. And we therefore all use 
 English when speaking to our dogs ; indeed, I know some 
 persons, who know nothing of English, that speak it to 
 their dogs !" 
 
 They then sang, in a rude manner, a Gaelic song. The 
 only word I could distinguish was Inch Caillach, the burying 
 place of Clan Alpine. They told us it was the answer of a 
 Highland girl to a foreign lord, who wished to make her his 
 bride. Perhaps, like the American Indian, she would not 
 leave the graves of her fathers. As we drew near the east- 
 ern end of the lake, the scenery became far more beautiful. 
 The Trosachs opened before us, Ben Ledi looked down over 
 the bare forehead of Ben An, and, as we turned a rocky 
 point, Ellen's Isle rose up in front. It is a beautiful little 
 turquoise in the silver setting of Loch Katrine. The north- 
 ern side alone is accessible, all the others being rocky and 
 perpendicular, and thickly grown with trees. We rounded 
 the island to the little bay, bordered by the silver strand, 
 above which is the rock from which Fitz-James wound his 
 horn, and shot under an ancient oak which flung its long 
 
64 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 gray arms over the water. Here we found a flight of rocky 
 steps, leading to tlie top, where stood the bower erected by 
 Lady Willoughby D'Eresby, to correspond with Scott's 
 description. Two or three blackened beams are all that 
 remain of it, having been burned down some years ago by 
 the carelessness of a traveller. 
 
 The mountains stand all around, like giants, to " sentinel 
 this enchanted land." On leaving the island, we saw th« 
 Goblin's Cave, in the side of Benvenue, called by the Gaels, 
 " Coir-nan-Uriskin." Near it is Beal-nam-bo, the pass of 
 cattle, overhung with gray weeping birch trees. 
 
 Here the boatmen stopped to let us hear the fine echo, 
 and the names of " Rob E-oy," and " Hoderick Dhu," were 
 sent back to us nearly as loud as they were given. The de- 
 scription of Scott is wonderfully exact, though the forest that 
 feathered over the sides of Benvenue has since been cut 
 down and sold by the Duke of Montrose. When we reached 
 the end of the lake it commenced raining, and we hastened 
 on in the twilight through the pass of Beal-an-Duine, scarce- 
 ly taking time to glance at the scenery, till Loch Achray 
 appeared through the trees, and on its banks the ivy-grown 
 front of the inn of Archeancrochan, with its unpronounce- 
 able name. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE BURNS FESTIVAL. 
 
 Morning on Loch Katrine— Walk to Stirling— Out-door Life— The Burns Festival—' 
 Preparations — Journey to Ayr— The " Twa Brigs " — The Streets of Ayr — Scotcll 
 Beggars— An Incident — The Burns Cottage— Alloway Kirk — English Exclusiveness 
 — The Sister and Sons of Burns — Lord Eglintoun — Professor "Wilson — The Proces- 
 sion — Performance of Tarn O'Shanter — The Burns Monument — Speech of Eobert 
 Burns — An Anecdote of the Poet — Crowd at the Station — Eeturn to Glasgow. 
 
 We passed a glorious summer morning on the banks of Loch 
 Katrine. The air was pure, fresh and balmy, and the warm 
 sunshine glowed upon forest and lake, upon dark crag aiid 
 purple mountain-top. The lake was a scene in fairy -land. 
 Eeturning over the rugged battle-plain in the jaws of the 
 Trosachs, we passed the wild, lonely valley of Glenfinlas 
 and Lanric Mead, at the head of Loch Vennachar, rounding 
 the foot of Ben Ledi to Coilantogle Ford. We saw the deso- 
 late hills of Uam-var, over which the stag fled from his lair 
 in Glenartney, and keeping on through Callander, stopped 
 for the night at a little inn on the banks of the Teith. The 
 next day we walked through Doune, over the lowlands to 
 Stnding, where we arrived at noon. Crossing Allan Water 
 
56 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 and the Forth, we climbed Stirling Oastle and looked on the 
 purple peaks of the chill Mountains, the far Grrampians, 
 and the battle-fields of Bannockburn and Sheriff Muir. We 
 were favored with pleasant weather during the whole of 
 this journey, and found that our expenses did not exceed 
 the moderate estimate we had made. In the neat little 
 country inns, we readily procured lodgings for a shilling, 
 while bread, butter, cheese and ham, purchased at the 
 baker's and grocer's, furnished us with the material for our 
 roadside meals. I shall long remember the breakfast we 
 made, sitting in the grass at the foot of Doune Oastle, on 
 the banks of the swift Teith, whose clear water filled our 
 cups. At Stirling, we took the coach to Falkirk the same 
 afternoon, and thence proceeded by railroad to Glasgow, in 
 order that we might attend the Burns Festival at Ayr, on 
 the following day, the 6th of August. Our German com- 
 panion, feeling little interest in the memory of the poet- 
 ploughman, parted from us and took the steamer to Edin- 
 burgh, with the hope of meeting us somewhere on the road 
 to London. 
 
 The 6th of August, 1844, was a great day for Scotland — 
 the assembling of all classes to do honor to the memory of 
 her peasant-bard. And right fitting was it, too, that such a 
 meeting should be held on the banks of the Doon, the 
 stream of which he has sung so sweetly, within sight of the 
 cot where he was born, the beautiful monument erected by 
 his countrymen, and more than all, beside " Alloway's witch- 
 haunted wall !" One would think old Albyn would rise up 
 at the call, and that from the wild clansmen of the northern 
 hills to the shepherds of the Cheviots, half her honest yeo- 
 
THE BURNS FESTIVAL. Sl 
 
 manry would be there, to render gratitude to the memory 
 of the bard who was one of them, and who gave their wants 
 and their woes immortal utterance. 
 
 For months before had the proposition been made to hold 
 a meeting on the Doon, similar to the Shakspeare Festival 
 on the Avon, and the 10th of July was first appointed for 
 the day, but owing to the necessity of further time for pre- 
 paration, it was postponed until the 6th of August. The Earl 
 of Eglintoun was chosen Chairman, and Professor Wilson 
 Vice-Ohairman ; in addition to this, all the most eminent 
 British authors Avere invited to attend. A pavilion, capable 
 of containing two thousand persons, had been erected near 
 the monument, in a large field, which was thrown open to 
 the public. 
 
 When we arose at Glasgow it was raining, and I feared 
 that the weather might dampen somewhat the pleasures of 
 the day, as in the case of the celebrated tournament at 
 Eglintoun Castle. We reached the station in time for the 
 first train, and sped in the face of the wind over the plains 
 of Ayrshire, which, under such a gloomy sky, looked most 
 desolate. We ran some distance along the coast, having a 
 view of the Hills of Arran, and reached Ayr about nine 
 o'clock. We came first to the New Bridge, which had a 
 triumphal arch in the middle, and the lines, from the *' Twa 
 Brigs of Ayr :" 
 
 "Will your poor narrow foot-path of a street, 
 Where twa wheel-barrows tremble when they meet, 
 Your ruin'd, formless bulk o' stane and Ume, 
 Compare wi' bonnie brigs o' modern time ?" 
 3* 
 
58 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 While on the arch of the " old brig " was the reply 
 
 " I'll be a brig when ye're a shapeless stane." 
 
 As we advanced into the town, the decorations became 
 more frequent. The streets were crowded with people car- 
 rying banners and wreaths, many of the houses were adorned 
 with green boughs, and the vessels in the harbor hung out 
 all their flags. We saw the Wallace Tower, a high Gothic 
 building, having in front a statue of Wallace leaning on his 
 sword, by Thorn, a native of Ayr ; and on our way to the 
 green, where the procession was to assemble, passed under 
 the triumphal arch thrown across the street opposite the 
 inn where Tarn O'Shanter caroused so long with Souter 
 Johnny. Leaving the companies to form on the long mea- 
 dow bordering the shore, we set out for the Doon, three 
 miles distant. Beggars were seated at regular distances 
 along the road, uttering the most dolorous winnings. Both 
 bridges were decorated in the same manner, with miserable 
 looking objects, keeping up, during the whole day, a con- 
 tinued lamentation. Persons are prohibited from begging in 
 England and Scotland, but I suppose, this being an extra- 
 ordinary day, license was given them as a favor, to beg free. 
 I noticed that the women, witA their usual kindness of heart, 
 bestowed nearly all the alms which these unfortunate objects 
 received. The night before, as I was walking through the 
 streets of Glasgow, a young man of the poorer class, very 
 scantily dressed, stepped up to me and begged me to listen 
 to him for a moment. He spoke hurriedly and agitatedly, 
 begging me, in God's name, to give him something, however 
 little. I gave him what few pence I had with me, when he 
 
THE BURNS COTTAGE ALLOW AY KIRK. 69 
 
 grasped my hand with a quick motion, saying, " Sir, you 
 little think how much you have done for me." I was about 
 to inquire more particularly into his situation, but he had 
 disappeared among the crowd. 
 
 We passed the " cairn where the hunters found the mur- 
 dered bairn," along a pleasant road to the Burns cottage, 
 where it was spanned by a magnificent triumphal arch of 
 evergreens and flowers. To the disgrace of Scotland, this 
 neat little thatched cot, where Burns passed the first seven 
 years of his life, is now occupied by somebody, who has 
 stuck up a sign over the door, " licensed to retail sjnrits, to be 
 drunk on the premises ;^' and accordingly the rooms were 
 crowded full of people, all drinking. There was an original 
 portrait of Burns in one room, and in the old-fashioned 
 kitchen we saw the recess where he was born. The hostess 
 looked towards us as if to inquire what we would drink, and 
 I hastened away — there was profanity in the thought. But 
 by this time, the bell of Old Alloway, Avhich still hangs in 
 its accustomed place, though the walls only are left, began 
 tolling, and we obeyed the call. The attachment of the 
 people for this bell is so great, that a short time ago, when 
 it was ordered to be removed, the inhabitants rose en masse, 
 and prevented it. The ruin, which is close by the road, 
 stands in the middle of the church-yard, and the first thing 
 I saw, on going in the gate, was the tomb of the father of 
 Burns. I looked in the old window, but the interior was 
 filled with rank weeds, and overshadowed by a young tree, 
 which had grown nearly to the eaves. 
 
 The crowd was now fast gathering in the large field, in 
 the midst of which the pavilion was situated. We went 
 
60 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 down by tlie beautiful monument to Burns, to the " Auld 
 Brig o' Doon," wliicli was spanned bj an arch of evergreens, 
 containing a representation of Tam O'Shanter and his grey 
 mare, pursued by the witches. It had been arranged that 
 the procession was to pass over the old and new bridges, 
 and from thence by a temporary bridge over the hedge into 
 the field. At this latter place a stand was erected for the 
 sons of Burns, the officers of the day, and distinguished 
 guests. Here was a beautiful specimen of English exclusive- 
 ness. The space adjoining the pavilion was fenced around, 
 and admittance denied at first to any, except those who had 
 tickets for the dinner, which, the price being fifteen shillings, 
 entirely prevented the humble laborers, who, more than all, 
 should participate on the occasion, from witnessing the 
 review of the procession by the sons of Burns, and hearing 
 the eloquent speeches of Professor Wilson and Lord Eglin- 
 toun. Thus, of the many thousands who were in the field, 
 but a few hundred who were crowded between the bridge 
 and the raihng around the pavilion, enjoyed the interesting 
 spectacle. By good fortune, I obtained a station where I 
 had an excellent view of the scene. The sons of Burns 
 were in the middle of the platform, with Eglintoun on the 
 right, and Wilson on the left. Mrs. Begg, sister of the 
 Poet, with her daughters, stood by the Countess of Eglin- 
 toun. She was a plain, benevolent looking woman, dressed 
 in black, and appearing still active and vigorous, though she 
 is upwards o^ eighty years old. She bears some likeness, 
 especially in the large, dark, lustrous eye, to the Poet. 
 Robert Burns, the eldest son, appeared to me to have a 
 strong resemblance to his father, and it is said he is the only 
 
THE PROCESSION. 61 
 
 one who remembers lils face. He has for a long time had 
 an office under Government, in London. The others have 
 but lately returned from a residence of twenty years in 
 India. Among other notable characters on the stand were 
 Alison, the historian, who is nov»r Sheriff of Lanark, and 
 Mrs. S. C. Hall. Professor Wilson appeared to enter into 
 the spirit of the scene better than any of them. He shout- 
 ed and waved his hat, and, with his fine, broad forehead, his 
 long brown locks already mixed with gray, streaming on 
 his shoulders, and that eagle eye glancing over the vast 
 assemblage, seemed a real Christopher North, yet full of the 
 fire and vigor of youth — *' a gray -haired, happy boy !" 
 
 About half of the procession consisted of lodges of masons, 
 all of whom turned out on the occasion, as Burns was one 
 of the fraternity. I was most interested in several compa- 
 nies of shepherds, from the hills, with their crooks and 
 plaids ; a body of archers in Lincoln green, with a handsome 
 chief at their head, and some Highlanders in their most 
 picturesqflie of costumes. As one of the companies, which 
 carried a mammoth thistle in a box, came near the platform, 
 Wilson snatched a branch, regardless of the pricks, and 
 placed it on his coat. After this pageant, which could not 
 have been much less than three miles long, had passed, a 
 band was stationed on the platform in the centre of the field, 
 around which the procession formed in a circle, and the 
 whole company sang, " Ye Banks and Braes o' Bonnie Doon." 
 Just at this time, a person dressed to represent Tam O'Shan- 
 ter, mounted on a gray mare, issued from a field near the 
 Burns Monument and rode along towards Alloway Kirk, 
 from which, when he approached it, a whole legion of 
 
62 VIEWS A -FOOT. 
 
 witches sallied out and commenced a hot pursuit. They 
 turned back, however, at the keystone of the bridge, the 
 witch with the " cutty sark" holding up in triumph the 
 abstracted tail of Maggie Soon after this the company 
 entered the pavilion, and the thousands outside were enter- 
 tained, as an especial favor, by the band of the S7th Regi- 
 ment, while from the many liquor booths around the field 
 they could enjoy themselves in a grosser way. 
 
 We went up to the Monument, which was of more par- 
 ticular interest to us> from the relics within, but admission 
 was denied to all. Many nersons were collected around the 
 gate, some of whom, having come from a great distance, 
 were anxious to see it ; but the keeper only said, such were 
 the orders and he could irot disobey them. Among the 
 crowd, a grandson of the original Tarn O'Shanter was shown 
 to us. He was a raw-looking boy of nineteen or twenty, 
 wearing a shepherd's cap and jacket, and muttered his disap- 
 probation very decidedly, at not being able to visit the 
 Monument. • 
 
 There were one or two showers during the day, and the 
 sky, all the time, was dark and lowering, which was unfavor- 
 able for the celebration ; but all were glad enough that the 
 rain kept aloof till the ceremonies were nearly over. The 
 speeches delivered at the dinner, which appeared in the 
 papers next morning, are undoubtedly very eloquent. I 
 noticed in the remarks of Robert Burns, in reply to Profes- 
 sor Wilson, an acknowledgment which the other speakers 
 forgot. He said, *' The Sons of Burns have grateful hearts, 
 and to the last hour of their existence, they will remember 
 the honor that has been paid them this day, by the noble, 
 
AKECDOTE OF BURNS. 63 
 
 the lovely and the talented, of their native land — ^by men of 
 genius and kindred spirit from our sister land — and lastly, 
 they owe their thanks to the inhabitants of the far distant 
 West, the country of a great, free, and kindred people J 
 (loud cheers.)" In connexion with this subject, I saw an 
 anecdote of the poet which is not generally known. During 
 his connexion with the Excise, he was one day at a party, 
 where the health of Pitt, tlien minister, was proposed, as 
 " his master and theirs.*^ He immediately turned down his 
 glass and said, " I will give you the health of a far greater 
 and better man — George Washington !" 
 
 We left the field early and went back through the muddy 
 streets of Ayr. The street before the railway office was 
 crowded, and there was so dense a mass of people on the 
 steps, that it seemed almost impossible to get near. Seeing 
 no other chance, I managed to take my stand on the lo^^'est 
 steps, where the pressure of the crowd behind, and the 
 working of the throng on the steps, raised me off my feet, 
 and in about a quarter of an hour carried me, compressed 
 into the smallest possible space, up the steps to the door, 
 where the crowd burst in by fits, like water rushing out of 
 a bottle. We esteemed ourselves fortunate in getting room 
 to stand in an open car, where, after a two hours' ride 
 through the wind and pelting rain, we arrived at Glasgow. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 OVER THE BORDER FROM EDINBURGH TO LONDON". 
 
 Ride to Edinburgh — ^The Monumental City— Lost and Found— Seeing Edinburgh— 
 The March Resumed— The Muirfoot Hills— American Books at Melrose— Wading 
 the Tweed— Abbotsford— The Armory and Library— Scott's Study— A "Prospect" 
 Recovered— Ruins of Melrose Abbey— Teviot Dale— Jedburgh— Over the Border — 
 Scenery of the Cheviots— Appreciative Tourists— Shepherds on Chevy Chase— The 
 Moorland — A Night at Whelpington Knowes— Walk to Newcastle— Cheap Lodgings 
 —The Roman Wall— Miners in Distress— Passage for London— A Meeting— The 
 Voyage- The Thames at Night— London at Dawn. 
 
 We left Glasgow on the morning after returning from the 
 Burns Festival, takmg passage in the open cars for Edin- 
 burgh, for SIX shillings. On leaving the depot, we plunged 
 into the heart of the hill on which Glasgow Cathedral stands, 
 and were whisked through darkness and sulphury smoke 
 to daylight again. The cars bore us past a spur of the 
 Highlands, through a beautiful country where women were 
 at work in the fields, to Linlithgow, the birth-place of Queen 
 Mary, The majestic ruins of its once proud palace stand 
 on a green meadow behind the town. In aii'other hour we 
 were walking through Edinburgh, admiring its palace-like 
 edifices, and stopping every few minutes to gaze up at some 
 
LOST AND FOUND. 65 
 
 lofty monument. Tleally, thought I, we call Baltimore the 
 " Monumental City" for its two marble columns, and here 
 is Edinburgh with one at every street-corner ! These, too, 
 not in the midst of glaring red buildings, where they seem 
 to have been accidentally dropped, but framed in by lofty 
 granite. mansions, whose long vistas make an appropriate 
 background to the picture. 
 
 While intently gazing upon one of these monuments, my 
 friends passed me and were lost in the crowd. All my 
 efforts to find them were vain, and finally giving up the 
 search, I went upon Calton Hill, where I spent two hours in 
 contemplating the noble panorama it commands. A sense of 
 hunger at last recalled me to myself, and I descended to the 
 city to seek for an inn. I had given up all hope of seeing 
 my friends, and made up my mind to go on alone to London, 
 by the route we had proposed. As I was sauntering along 
 in the crowd, a coarsely-dressed man suddenly accosted me. 
 *' Your two friends," he said, " have sent me out to hunt 
 you. They are at an inn not far from here." " Are you 
 sure 1 am the right person ?" I asked. " Oh yes," 
 said he, " I knew it as soon as I saw you." I followed him, 
 and, truly enough, found my comrades, installed in a cheer- 
 ful tavern, and enjoying a bottle of ale. They had taken 
 it for granted that the man would find me, and were not at 
 all astonished at his success. 
 
 We again looked from Calton Hill on Salisbury Crags and 
 over the Frith of Forth, and then descended to dark old 
 Holyrood, where the memory of lovely Mary lingers like a 
 stray sunbeam in her cold halls, and the fair, boyish face of 
 Eizzio looks down from the canvas on the armor of his 
 
66 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 murderer. We threaded the Canongate and climbed to the 
 Castle ; and finally, after a day and a half's sojourn, buckled 
 on our knapsacks and marched out of the Northern Athens. 
 In a short time the tall spire of Dalkeith appeared above 
 the green wood, and we saw to the right, perched on the 
 steep banks of the Esk, the picturesque cottage of Haw- 
 thornden, where Drummond once lived in poetic solitude. 
 We made haste to cross before nightfall the dreary waste 
 of Muirfoot Hills, from the highest summit of which we 
 took a last view of Edinburgh Castle and the Salisbury 
 Crags, then bhie in the distance. Far to the east were the 
 hills of Lammermuir, and the country of Mid-Lothian lay 
 before us. It was all *Sro/^land, The inn of Torsonce, 
 beside the Cala Water, was our resting-place for the night. 
 As we approached Galashiels the next morning, where the 
 bed of the silver Gala is nearly emptied by a number of 
 dingy manufactories, the hills opened, disclosing the sweet 
 vale of the Tweed, guarded by the triple peak of the Eil- 
 don, at whose base lay nestled the village of Melrose. 
 
 I stopped at a bookstore to purchase a view of the Abbey, 
 and to my surprise nearly half the works were by Ameri- 
 can authors. There were Bryant, Longfellow, Channing, 
 Emerson, Dana, Ware and many others. The bookseller 
 told me he had sold more of Ware's Letters than any other 
 book in his shop, " and also," to use his own words, " an 
 immense number of the great Dr. Channing." I have seen 
 English editions of Percival, Willis, Whittier and Mrs. 
 Sigourney, but Bancroft and Prescott are classed among the 
 ' standard British historians." 
 
 Crossing the Gala we ascended a hill on the road to Sel- 
 
WADIKG THE TWEED. 6Y 
 
 kirk, and behold ! the Tweed ran below, and opposite, in 
 the midst of embowering trees planted by the hand of Scott, 
 rose the grey halls of Abbotsford. We went down a lane 
 
 to the banks of the swift stream, but finding no ferry, B 
 
 and I, as the water looked very shallow, thought we might 
 
 save a long walk by wading across F preferred hunting 
 
 for a boat ; we two set out together, with our knapsacks on 
 our backs, and our boots in our hands. The current was 
 ice-cold and very swift, and as the bed was covered with 
 loose stones, it required the greatest care to stand upright. 
 Looking at the bottom, through the rapid water, made my 
 head so giddy, that I was forced to stop and shut my eyes ; 
 my friend, who had firmer nerves, went plunging on to a 
 deeper and swifter part, where the strength of the current 
 made him stagger very unpleasantly, T called to him to 
 return ; but the next thing I saw, he gave a plunge and 
 went down to the shoulder in the cold flood. While he was 
 struggling with a frightened expression of face to recover 
 his footing, I leaned on my staff and laughed till I was on 
 
 the point of falling also. To crown our mortification, F 
 
 had found a ferry a few yards higher up and was on the 
 opposite shore, watching us wade back again, my friend 
 with dripping clothes and boots full of water. I could not 
 forgive the pretty Scotch damsel who rowed us across, the 
 mischievous lurking smile which told that she too had wit- 
 nessed the adventure. 
 
 We found a foot-path on the other side, which led through 
 a young forest to Abbotsford Eude pieces of sculpture, 
 taken from Melrose Abbey, were scattered around the gate, 
 some half buried in the earth and overgrown with weeds. 
 
68 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 The niches in the walls were filled with pieces of sculpture, 
 and a marble greyhound reposed in the middle of the court 
 yard. We rang the bell in an outer vestibule, ornamented 
 with several pairs of antlers, when a lady appeared, who, 
 from her appearance, I have no doubt was Mrs. Ormand, 
 the " Duenna of Abbotsford," so humorously described by 
 D'Arlin court, in his " Three Kingdoms." She ushered us 
 into the entrance hall, which has a magnificent ceiling of 
 carved oak, and is lighted by lofty stained windows. An 
 effigy of a knight in armor stood at either end, one holding a 
 huge tv/o-handed sword found on Bosworth Field ; the walls 
 were covered with helmets and breastplates of the olden 
 time. 
 
 Among the curiosities in the Armory are Napoleon's 
 pistols, the blunderbuss of Hofier, Rob Roy's purse and gun, 
 and the offering box of Queen Mary. Through the folding 
 doors between the dining-room, drawing-room and library, 
 is a fine vista, terminated by a niche, in which stands Chan- 
 trey's bust of Scott. The ceilings are of carved Scottish 
 oak and the doors of American cedar. Adjoining the library 
 is the study, the walls of which are covered with books ; the 
 doors and windows are double, to render it quiet and undis- 
 turbed. Scott's books and inkstand are on the table and 
 his writing-chair stands before it, as if he had left them but 
 a moment before. In a little closet adjoining, where he 
 kept his private manuscripts, are the clothes he last wore, 
 his cane and belt, to which a hammer and a small axe are 
 attached, and his sword. A narrow staircase led from the 
 study to his sleeping room above, by which he could come 
 down at night and work while his family slept. The silence 
 
A "prospect" recovered. 69 
 
 about tlie place is solemn and breathless, as if it waited to 
 be broken by Ms returning footstep. I felt an awe in tread- 
 ing these lonely halls, like that which impressed me before 
 the grave of Washington — a feeling that hallowed the spot, 
 as if there yet lingered a low vibration of the lyre, though 
 the minstrel had departed forever ! 
 
 Plucking a wild rose that grew near the walls, I left 
 Abbotsford, embosomed amoTig the trees, and turned into a 
 green lane that led down to Melrose. We went immediately 
 to the Abbey, in the lower part of the village, near the 
 Tweed. As I approached the gate, the porteress came out, 
 and having scrutinized me rather sharply, asked my name. 
 I told her ; — " Well," she added, *•' there is a prospect here 
 for you." Thinking she alluded to the ruin, I replied : 
 *' Yes, the view is certainly very fine." " Oh ! I don't mean 
 that," she replied, "a young gentleman left a prospect here 
 for you !" — whereupon she brought out a spy-glass, which I 
 recognized as one that our German comrade bad given to me. 
 He had gone on, and hoped to meet us at Jedburgh. 
 
 Melrose is the finest remaining specimen of Gothic archi- 
 tecture in Scotland. Some of the sculptured flowers in the 
 cloister arched are remarkably beautiful and delicate, and the 
 two windows — the south and east oriels — are of a lightness 
 and grace of execution really surprising. We saw the tomb 
 of Michael Scott, of King Alexander II., and that of the 
 Douglas, marked with a sword. The heart of Bruce is 
 supposed to have been buried beneath the high altar. The 
 chancel is all open to the sky, and rooks build their nests 
 among the wild ivy that climbs over the crumbling arches. 
 One of these came tamely down and perched upon the hand 
 
70 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 of oiir guide. By a winding stair in one of the towers we 
 mounted to the top of the arch and looked down on the 
 grassy floor. I sat on the broken pillar, which Scott always 
 used for a seat when he visited the Abbey, and read the dis- 
 interring of the magic book, in the " Lay of the Last 
 Minstrel." I never comprehended its full beauty until then, 
 and the memory of Melrose will give it a peculiar interest, in 
 the future. When we left, I was willing to say, with the 
 Minstrel : 
 
 " Was never scene so sad and fair 1" 
 
 After seeing the home and favorite haunt of Scott, we felt 
 a wish to stand by his grave, but we had Ancrum Moor to 
 pass before night, and the Tweed was between us and Dry- 
 burgh Abbey. We did not wish to try another watery 
 adventure, and therefore walked on to the village of Ancrum, 
 where a gate-keeper on the ]K)ad gave us lodging and good 
 fare, for a moderate price. Many of this class practise this 
 double employment, and the economical traveller, who looks 
 more to comfort than luxury, will not fail to patronize them. 
 
 Next morning we took a foot-path over the hills to Jed- 
 burgh. From the summit there was a lovely view of the 
 valley of the Teviot, with the blue Cheviots in the distance. 
 I thought of Pringle's beautiful farewell : 
 
 " Our native land, our native vale, 
 A long, a last adieu, 
 Farewell to bonny Teviot-dale, 
 And Cheviot's mountains blue !" 
 
 The poet was born in the valley below, and one that looks 
 
CHEVY CHASE. 7l 
 
 upon its beauty cannot wonder how his heart clung to the 
 scenes he was leaving. We saw Jedburgh and its majestic 
 old Abbej, and ascended the valley of the Jed towards the 
 Cheviots. The hills, covered with woods of a luxuriant and 
 even gorgeous beauty of foliage, shut out this lovely glen 
 completely from the world. I found myself continually 
 coveting the lonely dwellings that were perched on the 
 rocky heights, or nestled, like fairy pavilions, in the laps 
 of the groves. These forests formerly furnished the wood 
 for the celebrated Jedwood axe, used in the border fo- 
 rays. 
 
 As we continued ascending, the prospect behind us widen- 
 ed, until we reached the summit of the Carter Fell, whence 
 there is a view of great extent and beauty. The Eildon 
 Hills, though twenty -five miles distant, seemed in the fore- 
 ground of the picture. With a glass, Edinburgh Castle 
 might be seen over the dim outline of the Muirfoot Hills. 
 After crossing the border, we passed the scene of the 
 encounter between Percy and Douglass, celebrated in 
 " Chevy Chase," and at the lonely inn of Whitelee, in the 
 valley below, took up our quarters for the night. 
 
 Travellers have described the Cheviots as being bleak 
 and uninteresting. Although they are bare and brown, to 
 me the scenery was of a character of beauty entirely original. 
 They are not rugged and broken like the Highlands, but lift 
 their round backs gracefully from the plain, while the more 
 distant ranges are clad in many an airy hue. Willis quaintly 
 and truly remarks, that travellers only tell you the picture 
 produced in their own brain by what they see, otherwise the 
 world would be like a pawnbroker's shop, where each 
 
12 VIEWS A-FOOT, 
 
 traveller wears the cast-off clothes of others. Therefore let 
 no one, of a gloomy temperament, journeying over the 
 Cheviots in dull November, arraign me for having falsely 
 praised their beauty 
 
 I was somewhat amused with seeing a splendid carriage 
 with footmen and outriders, crossing the mountain, the 
 glorious landscape full in view, and the richly dressed lady 
 within lying Just asleep ! It is no uncommon thing to 
 meet carriages in the Highlands, in which the occupants 
 are comfortably reading, while being whirled through the 
 finest scenery. And apropos of this subject, my German 
 friend related to me an incident. His brother was travelling 
 on the E,hine, and when in the midst of the grandest scenes, 
 met a carriage containing an English gentleman and lady, 
 both asleep, while on the seat behind was stationed an 
 artist, sketching away with all his might. He asked the 
 latter the reason of his industry, when he answered, " Oh ! 
 my lord wishes to see every night what he has passed 
 during the day, and so I sketch as we go along! " 
 
 The hills, particularly on the English side, are covered 
 with flocks of sheep, and lazy shepherds lay basking in the 
 sun, among the purple heather, with their shaggy black 
 dogs beside them. On many of the hills are landmarks, 
 by which, when the snow has covered all the tracks, they 
 can direct their way. After walking many miles through 
 green valleys, down which flowed the Red Water, its very 
 name telling of the conflicts which had crimsoned its tide, 
 we came to the moors, and ten miles of blacker, drearier 
 waste I never saw. Before entering them we passed the 
 pretty little village of Otterburn, near the scene of the. 
 
THE INN AT WHELPINGTON KNOWES. 73 
 
 battle. I brought away a wild flower that grew on soil 
 enriched by the blood of the Percys. On the village inn is 
 their ancient coat of arms, a lion rampant on a field of gold, 
 with the motto, " Esperance en Dieu.'^ 
 
 Scarcely a house or a tree enlivened the black waste, 
 and even the road was marked on each side by high poles, 
 to direct the traveller in winter. "We were glad when at 
 length the green fields came again in sight, and the little 
 village of Whelpington Knowes, with its old ivy-grown 
 church tower, welcomed us after the lonely walk. 
 
 At the only inn in the place, I found it quite impossible 
 to understand the servants, who spoke the rugged North- 
 umbrian dialect. The landlady, who spoke tolerable 
 English, came to our assistance, and received us with more 
 cordiality than our knapsacks and dusty garments led us to 
 expect. She quartered us for the night in an out-building, 
 which appeared to be a kind of hunting lodge. It was a single 
 room, with two beds, fowling-pieces and shot-belts hanging 
 on the walls, and some stufiPed grouse on the top of a quaint 
 old wardrobe. The evening Avas cool, and the unintelligible 
 servants made a cheerful fire on the hearth. Our supper 
 was served in a room of the inn, which was occupied by 
 a young lady, whose appearance contrasted strangely with 
 her situation. She was pale, but handsome, dressed with 
 perfect taste, and the few words she spoke gave evidence of 
 thorough refinement and cultivation. Her face was very 
 sad, her manner subdued, yet with a quiet dignity which 
 forced the landlady, who made very unceremonious use of 
 her room, to treat her with respect. A shelf of classic 
 authors, and some flower-pots in the window, were the 
 
74 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 tokens of her tastes. Here is a romance, if not a tragedy, I 
 thought, but I did not venture to ask any questions. 
 
 As one specimen of the intelligence of this part of Eng- 
 land, we saw a board conspicuously posted at the com- 
 mencement of a private road, declaring that " all persons 
 travelling this way will h^ persecuted.^' As the road led to 
 a church, however, there may have been a design in the 
 expression. 
 
 On the fifth day after leaving Edinburgh, we reached a hill 
 overlooking the valley of the Tyne and the German Ocean, 
 as sunset was reddening in the west. A cloud of coal-smoke 
 made us aware of the vicinity of Newcastle. On the summit 
 of the hill a large cattle fair was being held, and crowds of 
 people were gathered in and around a camp of gaudily 
 decorated tents. Fires were kindled here and there, and 
 drinking, carousing, and horse-racing, were flourishing in full 
 vigor. After entering the town, we applied to a policeman 
 to conduct us to a cheap lodging-place. He readily took us 
 to a house in a dingy street near the river, inhabited by a 
 poor family, who furnished us with beds (probably their 
 own), and cooked us frugal meals, during the two days that 
 we were obliged to await the departure of a steamer for 
 London. 
 
 We set out the next morning to hunt the Roman Wall. 
 Passing the fine buildings in the centre of the city and the 
 lofty monument to Earl Grey, we went towards the Avestern 
 gate and soon came to the ruins of a building, about whose 
 origin there could be no doubt. It stood there, blackened 
 by the rust of ages, a remnant of power passed away. 
 There was no mistaking the massive round tower, with its 
 
DISTRESS AMONG THE MINERS. '75 
 
 projecting ornaments, such as are often seen in the ruder 
 works of the Romans. On each side a fragment of wall 
 remained standing, and there appeared to be a cliamber 
 in the interior, which was choked up with rubbish. There 
 is another tower, much higher, in a public square in another 
 part of the citj, a portion of which is fitted up as a dwell- 
 ing' for the family which takes care of it ; but there was 
 such a ridiculous contrast between the ivy-grown top, and 
 the handsome modern windows and doors of the lower story, 
 that it did not impress me half as much as the first, with 
 all its neglect. These are the farthest limits of that power 
 Avhose mighty works I hope hereafter to view at the seat of 
 her grandeur and glory. 
 
 I witnessed a scene at Newcastle that cannot soon be 
 forgotten ; as it showed more plainly than I had before an 
 opportunity of observing, the state to which the laboring 
 classes of England are reduced. Hearing singing in the 
 street under my window one morning, I looked out and 
 saw a body of men, apparently of the lower class, but 
 decent and sober-looking, who were singing in a rude and 
 plaintive strain some ballad, the purport of which I could 
 not understand. On making inquiry, I discovered it was 
 part of a body of miners, who, about eighteen weeks before, 
 in consequence of not being able to support their families 
 with the small pittance allowed them, had struck for higher 
 wages. This their employers refused to give them, and 
 sent to Wales, where they obtained workmen at the former 
 price. The houses these laborers had occupied were all 
 taken from them, and for eighteen weeks they had had no 
 other means of subsistence than the casual charity given 
 
76 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 them for singing the story of their wrongs. It made my 
 blood boil to hear those tones, wrung from the heart of 
 poverty by the hand of tyranny. The ignorance, permitted 
 by the government, causes an unheard amount of misery 
 and degradation. We heard afterwards in the streets, 
 another company who played on musical instruments. 
 Beneath the proud swell of England's martial airSj there 
 sounded to my ears a tone whose gathering murmur will 
 make itself heard ere long by the dull ears of Power. 
 
 At last, at the appointed time, we found ourselves on 
 board the " London Merchant," in the muddy Tyne, waiting 
 for the tide to rise high enough to permit us to descend 
 the river. There is great competition among the steam- 
 boats this summer, and the price of passage to London is 
 reduced to five and ten shillings. The second cabin, how- 
 ever, is a place of tolerable comfort^ and as the steward had 
 promised to keep berths for us, we engaged passage. On 
 going below, the first person we met was our German com- 
 rade, who had preceded us all the way from Edinburgh. It 
 was a joyous meeting on both sides. Following the wind- 
 ings of the narrow river, we passed Sunderland and Tyne- 
 mouth, where it expands into the German Ocean. The 
 water was barely stirred by a gentle wind, and little re- 
 sembled the stormy sea I expected to find. "We glided over 
 the smooth surface, watching the blue line of the distant 
 shore till dark, when I went below expecting to enjoy a 
 few hours' oblivion. But the faithless steward had given 
 up the promised berth to another, and it was only with 
 difficulty that I secured a seat by the cabin table, where I 
 dozed half the night with my head on my arms. It grew at 
 
LONDOX AT DAWX. 77 
 
 last too close and wearisome ; I went up on deck and lay- 
 down on the windlass, taking care to balance myself well 
 before goin^to sleep. Tlie earliest light of dawn awoke me 
 to a consciousness of damp clothes and bruised limbs. We 
 were in sight of the low shore the whole day, sometimes 
 seeing the dim outline of a church, or a group of trees over 
 the downs or flat beds of sand, which border the eastern 
 coast of England. About dark, the red light of the Nore 
 was seen, and we hoped before many hours to be in London. 
 The lights of Gravesend were passed, but about ten o'clock, 
 as we entered the narrow channel of the Thames, we struck 
 another steamboat in the darkness, and were obliged to cast 
 anchor for some time. 
 
 When I went on deck in the gray light of morning 
 again, we were gliding up a narrow, muddy river, between 
 rows of gloomy buildings, with many vessels lying at 
 anchor. As the day brightened, we turned a point, and 
 right before me lay a vast crowd of vessels, and in the 
 distance, above the wilderness of buildings, stood a dim, 
 gigantic dome in the sky ; what a bound my heart gave at 
 the sight ! And the tall pillar that stood near it — I did 
 not need a second glance to recognize the Monument. I 
 knew the majestic bridge that spanned the river above ; 
 but on the right bank a cluster of massive buildings, 
 crowned with many a turret, attracted my eye. A crowd 
 of old associations pressed bewilderingly upon the mind, to 
 see standing there, grim and dark with many a bloody 
 page of England's history — the Tower of London ! The 
 morning sky was as yet but faintly obscured by the coal- 
 smoke, and in the misty light of coming sunrise, all objects 
 
78 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 seemed grander than their wont. In spite of the thrilling 
 interest of the scene, I could not help recalling Byron's 
 ludicrous but most expressive description. 
 
 " A mighty mass of brick and smoke and shipping, 
 
 Dirty and dusky, but as wide as eye 
 Can reach ; with here and there a sail just skipping 
 
 In sight, then lost amidst the forestry 
 Of masts ; a wilderness of steeples peeping 
 
 On tip-toe through their sea-coal canopy ; 
 A huge dun cupola, like a fool's-cap crown 
 On a fool's head, — and there is London towa." 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A WEEK IN LONDON. 
 
 Entering London — Cheap Lodgings and Bad Company — The Thoroughfares — St. 
 PauVs— View from the Dome— St. James's Park— "Westminster Abbey— Poet's 
 Corner— Tombs of Sovereigns — Hall of the Bath — The Thames Tunnel— The lowas 
 again — The Parks — Crime and Misery in London — The End of our Sojourn — Cost 
 of the Tour through Scotland. 
 
 London, Aug. 22, 1844. 
 In tlie course of time we came to anchor in the stream ; 
 skiffs from the shore pulled alongside, and after some little 
 quarrelling, we were safely deposited in one, with a party 
 who desired to be landed at the Tower Stairs. The dark 
 walls frowned above us as we mounted from the water and 
 passed into an open square on the outside of the moat. 
 The laborers were about commencing work, the fashionable 
 da?/ having just closed, but there was still noise and bustle 
 enough in the streets, particularly when we reached White- 
 chapel, part of the great thoroughfare, extending through 
 the heart of London to Westminster Abbey and the Parlia- 
 ment buildings. Our first care was to find a resting-place, 
 and we had not wandered far along Whitechapel before the 
 
80 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 signs " Ohop-House," " Lodgings," met our eye. We select- 
 ed one of the most decent of these places, where we 
 obtained bare rooms and questionable beds for a shilling a 
 day, while the public room supplied us with a chop and 
 potatoes for sixpence. Our company, I am afraid, was not 
 the most respectable which London can boast of — actors of 
 low grade, from low theatres ; dissolute shop boys, sailors 
 and cads, and women whose roses were not the natural bloom 
 of English air. We did not cultivate their acquaintance, 
 but became so disgusted after a day or two that we shifted 
 our quarters to the Aldgate Coffee House, where the terms 
 were equally cheap and the society a very little better. 
 
 After breakfast, on the first day, we set out for a walk 
 through London. Entering the main artery of this mighty 
 city, we passed on through Aldgate and Oornhill, to St. 
 Paul's, with still increasing wonder. Further on, through 
 Fleet street and the Strand — what a world! Here come 
 the ever-thronging, ever-rolling waves of life, pressing and 
 whirling on in their tumultuous career. Here day and night 
 pours the stream of human beings, seeming, amid the roar 
 and din and clatter of the passing vehicles, like the tide of 
 some great combat. How lonely it makes one to stand still 
 and feel that of all the mighty throng which divides itself 
 around him, not a being knows or cares for him ! What 
 knows he too of the thousands who pass him by ! How 
 many who bear the impress of godlike virtue, or hide 
 beneath a goodly countenance a heart black with crime ! 
 How many fiery spirits, all glowing with hope for the yet 
 unclouded future, or brooding over a darkened and desolate 
 past in the agony of despair ! There is a sublimity in this 
 
81 
 
 human Niagara that makes one look on his own race with 
 something of awe. 
 
 St. Paul's is on a scale of grandeur excelling every thing 
 I have yet seen. The dome seems to stand in the sky, as 
 you look up to it ; the distance from which you view it, 
 combined with the atmosphere of London, gives it a dim, 
 shadowy appearance, that startles one with its immensity. 
 The roof from which the dome springs is itself as high as the 
 spires of most other churches ; blackened for two hundred 
 years with the coal-smoke of London, it stands like a relic 
 of the giant architecture of the early world. The interior 
 is what one would expect to behold, after viewing the out- 
 side. A maze of grand arches on every side, encompasses 
 the dome, at which you gaze up as at the sky ; and from 
 every pillar and wall look down the marble forms of the 
 dead. There is scarcely a vacant niche left in all this 
 mighty hall, so many are the statues that meet one on every 
 side. With the exception of John Howard, Sir Astley 
 Cooper and Wren, whose monument is the church itself, 
 they are all to military men. I thought if they had all been 
 removed except Howard's, it would better have suited such 
 a temple, and the great soul it commemorated. 
 
 I never was more impressed with the grandeur of human 
 invention, than when ascending the dome. I could with 
 difficulty conceive the means by which such a mighty edi- 
 fice had been lifted into the air. The small frame of Sir 
 Christopher Wren must have contained a mind capable of 
 vast conceptions. The dome is like the summit of a moun- 
 tain ; so wide is the prospect, and so great the pile upon 
 which you stand. London lay beneath us, like an ant-hill, 
 4* 
 
VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 with the black insects swarming to and fro in their hocg 
 avenues, the sound of their employments coming up like the 
 roar of the sea. A cloud of coal-smoke hung over it, 
 through which many a pointed spire was thrust up ; some- 
 times the wind would blow it aside for a moment, and the 
 thousands of red roofs would sliine out clearer. The brido-- 
 ed Thames, covered with craft of all sizes, Avound beneath 
 us like a ringed and spotted serpent. 
 
 It was a rehef to get into St. James's Park, among, the 
 trees and flowers again. Here beautiful winding walks led 
 around little lakes, in which were hundreds of water-fowl, 
 swimming Groups of merry children were sporting on the 
 green lawn, enjoying their privilege of roaming everywhere 
 at will, while the older bipeds were confined to the regular 
 walks-. At the western end stood Buckingham Palace, look 
 ing over the trees towards St. Paul's ; and through the 
 grove on the eminence above, the towers of St. James's 
 could be seen. But there was a dim building with two 
 lofty square towers, decorated with a profusion of pointed 
 Gothic pinnacles, that I looked at Avith more interest than 
 these appendages of royalty. I could not linger long in 
 its vicinity, but going back again by the Horse Guards, took 
 the road to Westminster Ahheij. 
 
 We approached by the general entrance. Poet's Corner. 
 I hardly stopped to look at the elaborate exterior of Henry 
 VII.'s Chapel, but passed on to the door. On entering, 
 the first thing that met my eyes were the words, " Oh rare 
 Ben Jo^son," under his bust. Near by stood the monu- 
 ments of Spenser and Gay, and a few paces further looked 
 down the sublime countenance of Milton. Never was a spot 
 
POEl S CORNER. 83 
 
 SO full of intense Interest. The light was just dim enough 
 to give it a solemn, religious air, making the marble forms 
 of poets and philosophers so shadowy and impressive, that 
 I felt as if standing in their living presence. Every step 
 called up some mind linked with the associations of my 
 childhood. There was the gentle feminine countenance of 
 Thomson, and the majestic head of Dryden ; Addison with 
 his classic features, and Gray, full of the fire of lofty 
 thought. In another chamber, I paused long before the 
 tablet to Shakspeare ; and while looking at the monument 
 of Garrick, started to find that I stood upon his grave. 
 What a glorious galaxy of genius is here collected — what a 
 constellation of stars whose light is immortal ! The mind is 
 fettered by their spirit, everything is forgotten but the 
 mighty dead, who still " rule us from their urns." 
 
 The side-chapels are filled with tombs of knightly fami- 
 lies, the husband and wife lying on their backs on the tombs, 
 with their hands clasped, while their children, about the size 
 of dolls, are kneeling around. Numberless are the Barons 
 and Earls and Dukes, whose grim effigies stare from their 
 tombs. In opposite chapels are the tombs of Mary and 
 Elizabeth, and near the former that of Darnley. After 
 having visited many of the scenes of her life, it was with no 
 ordinary emotion that I stood by the sepulchre of Mary. 
 How differently one looks upon it and upon that of the 
 proud Elizabeth ! 
 
 We descended to the Chapel of Edward the Confessor, 
 within the splendid shrine of which his ashes repose. Here 
 the chair on which the English monarchs have been crowned 
 for several hundred years was exhibited. Under the seat 
 
84 TIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 is the stone, brouglit from the Abbey of Scone, whereon the 
 Kings of Scotland were crowned. The chair is of oak, 
 carved and hacked over with names, and on the bottom some 
 one has recorded his name with the fact that he once slept 
 in it. We sat down and rested in it without ceremony. 
 Near this is the hall where the Knights of the order of the Bath 
 met. Over each seat their dusty banners are still hanging, 
 each with its crest, and their armor is rusting upon the wall. 
 It resembled a banqueting hall of the olden time, where the 
 knights had left their seats for a moment vacant. Entering 
 the nave, we were lost in the wilderness of sculpture. Here 
 stood the forms of Pitt, Fox, Burke, Sheridan and Watts, 
 from the chisels of Chantry, Bacon and Westmacott. 
 Further down were Sir Isaac Newton and Sir Godfrey 
 Kneller — opposite Andre, and Paoli, the Italian, who died 
 here in exile. How can I convey an idea of the scene ! 
 Notwithstanding all the descriptions I had read, I was totally 
 unprepared for the reality, nor could I have anticipated the 
 hushed and breathless interest with which I paced the dim 
 aisles, gazing, at every step, on the last resting place of some 
 great and familiar name. A place so sacred to all who 
 inherit the English tongue, is worthy of a special pilgrimage 
 across the deep. To those who are unable to visit it, a de- 
 scription may be interesting ; but so far does it fall short of 
 the scene itself, that if I thought it would induce a few of 
 our wealthy idlers, or even those who, like myself, must 
 travel with toil and privation, to come hither, I would write 
 till the pen dropped from my hand. 
 
 We walked down the Thames, through the narrow streets 
 of Wapping. Over the mouth of the Tunnel is a large 
 
THE THAMES TUNNEL. 85 
 
 circular building, with a dome to light the entrance below. 
 Paying the fee of a penny, we descended by a windmg 
 staircase to the bottom, which is seventy-three feet below 
 the surface. The carriage-way, still unfinished, will extend 
 further into the city. From the bottom the view of the two 
 arches of the Tunnel, brill" antly lighted with gas, is very 
 fine ; it has a much less heavy and gloomy appearance than 
 I expected. As we walked along under the bed of the 
 river, two or three girls at one end began playing on the 
 French horn and bugle, and the echoes, when not sufficient 
 to confuse the melody, were remarkably beautiful. Between 
 the arches of the division separating the two passages, are 
 shops, occupied by venders of fancy articles, views of the 
 Tunnel, engravings, &c. In the middle is a small printing 
 press, where a sheet containing a description of the whole 
 work is printed for those who desire it. As I was no strang- 
 er to this art, I requested the boy to let me print one my- 
 self, but he had such a bad roller I did not succeed in get- 
 ting a good impression. The air within is somewhat damp, 
 but fresh and agreeably cool, and one can scarcely realize in 
 walking along the light passage, that a river is rolling above 
 his head. The immense solidity and compactness of the 
 structure precludes the danger of accident, each of the sides 
 being arched outwards, so that the heaviest pressure only 
 strengthens the work. It will long remain a noble monu- 
 ment of human daring and ingenuity. 
 
 We spent a day in visiting the lungs of London, as the 
 two grand parks have been called. From the Strand 
 through Kegent Circus, the centre of the fashionable part of 
 the city, we passed to Piccadilly, calling on our way to see 
 
86 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 our old friends, the lowas. They were at the Egyptian 
 Hall, in connexion with Catlin's Indian collection. The 
 old hraves knew us at once, particularly Blister-Feet, who 
 used often to walk a line on deck with me, at sea. Further 
 along Piccadilly is Wellington's mansion, Apsley House, 
 and nearly opposite it, in the corner of Hyde Park, stands 
 the colossal statue of Achilles, cast from cannon taken at 
 Salamanca and Vittoria. The Park resembles an open com- 
 mon, with here and there a grove of trees, intersected by 
 carriage roads. It is like getting into the country again to be 
 out on its broad, green field, with the city seen dimly around 
 through the smoky atmosphere. We walked for a mile or 
 two along the shady avenues and over the lawns, having a 
 view of the princely terraces and gardens on one hand, and 
 the gentle outline of Primrose Hill on the other. Regent's 
 Park itself covers a space of nearly four hundred acres ! 
 
 But if London is unsurpassed in splendor, it has also its 
 corresponding share of crime. Notwithstanding the large 
 and efficient body of police, who do much towards the 
 control of vice, one sees enough of degradation and brutality 
 in a short time, to make his heart sick. Even the public 
 thoroughfares are thronged at night with characters of the 
 lowest description, and it is not expedient to go through 
 many of the narrow bye-haunts of the old city in the day- 
 time. The police, who are ever on the watch, immediately 
 seize and carry off any offender, but from the statements of 
 persons who have had an opportunity of observing, as well 
 as from my own slight experience, I am convinced that there 
 is an untold amount of concealed misery and crime. 
 
 I have now been six days in London, and by making 
 
EXPENSES OF TRAVEL. 87 
 
 good use of my feet and eyes, have managed to become fa- 
 miliar with ahiiost every object of interest within its precincts. 
 My whole time has been devoted to sight-seeing, and I have 
 neither made a single acquaintance, nor obtained the least 
 insight into the social life of England. Having a plan 
 mapped out for the day, I started from my humble lodgings 
 at the Aldgate Coffee House, where I slept off fatigue for a 
 shilling a night, and walked up Cheapside or down White- 
 chapel, as the case might be, hunting out my way to 
 churches, halls and theatres. In this way, at a trifling 
 expense, I have perhaps seen as much as many who spend 
 here double the time and ten times the money. Our whole 
 tour from Liverpool hither, by way of Ireland and Scotland, 
 cost us but twenty-five dollars each ! although, except in one 
 or two cases, we denied ourselves no necessary comfort. 
 This shows that the glorious privilege of looking on the 
 scenes of the old world need not be confined to people of 
 wealth and leisure. It may be enjoyed by all who cau 
 occasionally forego a little bodily comfort for the sake of 
 mental and spiritual gain. We leave this afternoon for 
 Dover. To-morroAV I shall dine in Belgium ! 
 
OHAPTEE VIII 
 
 ON THE CONTINENT. 
 
 Feelings on Visiting the Continent— Imprisonment at Dover — Arrival at Ostend—* 
 A Stroll— The Streets of Bruges— The Cathedral— The Belfrv and its Chimes— 
 A Night on the Canal— Ghent— A Eainy Eide — Scenery of the Meuse — Entering 
 Prussia— Aix-la-Chapelle — The Cathedral— The Tomb of Charlemagne — The Ca- 
 thedral of Cologne — ^Tradition of its Plan— The Smells of the Streets. 
 
 On the Continent at last ! How strangely look the 
 centmy-old towers, antique monuments, and quaint, narrow 
 streets of the Flemish cities ! It is an agreeable and yet a 
 painful sense of novelty to stand for the iirst time in the 
 midst of a people whose language and manners are different 
 from one's own. The old buildings around, linked with 
 many a stirring association of past history, gratify the 
 glowing anticipations with which one has looked forward 
 to seeing them, and the fancy is busy at work reconciling 
 the real scene with the ideal ; but the want of a communi- 
 cation with the living world about, walls one up with a 
 sense of loneliness he could not before have conceived. 
 I eAvied the children in the streets their childish language. 
 Bidding adieu to our German friend, who took passage 
 
IMPRISONMENT AT DOVER. 89 
 
 direct to Havre, we left London in tlie afternoon, and sped 
 tln'ougli the green wooded lawns and vales of England, to 
 Dover, which we reached at sunset, passing by a long 
 tunnel through the lofty Shakspeare Cliff. We had barely 
 time, before it grew dark, to ascend the cliff. The glorious 
 coast view looked still wilder in the gathering twilight, 
 which soon hid from our sight the dim hills of France. On 
 the cliff opposite frowned the massive battlements of the 
 Castle, guarding the town, which lay in a nook of the rocks 
 below. As the Ostend boat was to leave at four in the 
 morning, my cousin aroused us at three, and we felt our 
 way down stairs in the dark. But the landlord was reluc- 
 tant to part with us ; we stamped and shouted and rang 
 bells, till the whole house was in an uproar, for the door 
 was double-locked, and the steamboat bell began to sound. 
 At last the scamp could stand it no longer ; we gave a 
 quick utterance to our overflowing wrath, and rushed down 
 to the boat but a second or two before it sailed. 
 
 The water of the Channel was smooth as glass, and as 
 the sun rose, the far chalky cliffs gleamed along the horizon, 
 a belt of fire. I waved a good-bye to Old England and 
 then turned to see the spires of Dunkirk, which were visible 
 in the distance before us. On the low Belgian coast we 
 could see trees and steeples, resembling a mirage over the 
 level surface of the sea ; and at length, about ten o'clock, 
 the square tower of Ostend came in sight. The boat passed 
 into a long, muddy basin, in which many unwieldy, 
 red-sailed Dutch craft were lying, and stopped beside a 
 high pier. Here amid the confusion of three languages, an 
 officer came on board and took charge of our passports 
 
90 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 and luggage. As we could not get the former for two or 
 three hours, we did not hurry the passing of the latter, and 
 went on shore quite unencumbered, for a stroll about the 
 city, disregarding the cries of the hackney-coachmen on 
 the pier, " Hotel d' Angleterre,'^ "-Hotel des Bains ! " and 
 another who called out in English, "I recommend you 
 to the Eoyal Hotel, sir ! " 
 
 There is little to be seen in Ostend. We wandered 
 through long rows of plain yellow houses, trying to read the 
 French and Dutch signs, and at last came out on the wall 
 near the sea. A soldier waved us back as we attempted to 
 ascend it, and muttering some unintelligible words, pointed 
 to a narrow street near. Following this out of curiosity, we 
 crossed the moat and found ourselves on the great bathing 
 beach. To get out of the hands of the servants who imme- 
 diately surrounded us, we jumped into one of the little 
 wagons and were driven out into the surf. 
 
 To be certain of fulfilling the railroad regulations, we took 
 our seats a quarter of an hour before the time. The dark 
 walls of Ostend soon vanished and we were whirled rapidly 
 over a country perfectly level, but highly fertile and well 
 cultivated. Occasionally there was a ditch or row of trees, 
 but otherwise there was no division between the fields, and 
 the plain stretched unbroken away into the distance. The 
 twenty miles to Bruges we made in forty minutes. The 
 streets of this antique city are narrow and crooked, and the 
 pointed, ornamented gables of the houses, produce a novel 
 impression on one who has been accustomed to the green 
 American forests. Then there was the endless sound of 
 wooden shoes clattering over the rough pavements, and 
 
BRUGES. 91 
 
 people talking in that most unmusical of all languages, 
 Dutch. Walking at random through the streets, we came 
 by chance upon the Cathedral of Notre Dame. I shall long 
 remember my first impression of the scene within. Th6 
 lofty gothic ceiling arched far above my head and through 
 the stained windows the light came but dimly — it was all 
 still, solemn and religious. A few worshippers were kneeling 
 in silence before some of the shrines, and the echo of my 
 tread was like a profaning sound. On every side were pic- 
 tures, saints and gilded shrines. A few steps removed one 
 from the bustle and din of the crowd to the stillness and 
 solemnity of the holy retreat. 
 
 We learned from a guide, whom we had engaged because 
 he spoke a few words of English, that there was still a 
 treckshuyt line on the canals, and that a boat was to leave at 
 ten o'clock that night for Ghent. Wishing to try this old 
 Dutch method of travelling, we walked along the Ghent 
 road to the canal, where a moderate sized boat was lying. 
 Our baggage deposited in the plainly furnished cabin, I ran 
 back to Bruges, although it was beginning to grow dark, to 
 get a sight of the belfry ; for Longfellow's lines had been 
 chiming through my head all day : 
 
 "In the market-place of Bruges, stands the belfry old and brown. 
 Thrice consumed and thrice rebuilded, still it watches o'er the town.'* 
 
 And having found the square, brown tower in one corner 
 of the open market place, we waited to hear the chimes, 
 which are said to be the finest in Europe. They rang out 
 at last with a clear silvery tone, most beautifully musical 
 indeed. We then returned to the boat in the twilight. We 
 
92 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 were to leave in about an hour, according to the arrange- 
 ment, but as yet there was no sound to be heard, and we 
 were the only tenants. However, trusting to Dutch regu- 
 larity, we went to sleep in the full confidence of awakening 
 in Ghent. 
 
 I awoke once in the night and saw the dark branches of 
 trees passing before the v/indow, but there was no perceptible 
 sound nor motion the boat glided along like a dream, and 
 we were awakened next morning by its striking against the 
 pier at Ghent. After paying three francs for the whole 
 night journey, the captain gave us a guide to the railroad 
 station, and as we had nearly an hour before the train left, 
 I went to see the Cathedral of St. Bavon. A.fter leaving 
 Ghent, the road passes through a beautiful country, culti- 
 vated like a garden. The Dutch passion for flowers is dis- 
 played in the gardens around the cottages ; even every vacant 
 foot of ground along the railway is planted with roses and 
 dahlias. At Ghent, the morning being fair, we took seats in 
 the open cars. About noon it commenced raining and our 
 situation was soon anything but comfortable. My cousin 
 had fortunately a waterproof Indian blanket with him, 
 which he had purchased in the Far West, and by wrapping 
 this around all three of us, we kept partly dry. I was much 
 amused at the plight of a party of young Englishmen, w4io 
 were in the same car ; one of them held a little parasol 
 which just covered his hat, and sent the water in streams 
 down on his back and shoulders. 
 
 We had a misty view of Liege, through the torrents of 
 rain, and then dashed away into the wild mountain scenery 
 of the Meuse. Steep, rocky hills, covered with pine and 
 
EKTERING PRUSSIA. 93 
 
 crowned with ruined towers, hemmed in the winding and 
 swollen river, and the wet, cloudy sky rested like a canopy 
 on their summits. Instead of threading their mazy defiles, 
 we plunged directly into the mountain's heart, flew over the 
 narrow valley on lofty and light-sprung arches, and went 
 again into the darkness. At Verviers, our baggage was 
 weighed, examined and transferred, with ourselves, to a 
 Prussian train. There was a great deal of disputing on the 
 occasion. A lady, who had a dog in a large willow basket, 
 was not allowed to retain it, nor would they take it as bag- 
 gage. The matter was finally compromised by their sending 
 the basket, obliging her to carry the dog, which was none of 
 the smallest, in her arms ! The next station bore the sign 
 of the black eagle, and here we were obliged to give up our 
 passports. Advancing through long ranges of wooded hills, 
 we saw at length, in the dull twilight of a rainy day, the 
 old kingly city of Aix la Chapelle on a plain below us. 
 After a scene at the custom-house, where our baggage was 
 reclaimed with tickets given at Verviers, we drove to the 
 Hotel du Ellin, and while warming our shivering limbs and 
 drying our damp garments, felt tempted to exclaim with the 
 old Italian author : " ! holy and miraculous tavern !" 
 
 The Cathedral, with its lofty Gothic tower, was built by 
 the emperor Otho in the tenth century. It seems at present 
 to be undergoing repairs, for a large scaffold shut out the 
 dome. The long hall was dim with incense smoke as we 
 entered, and the organ sounded through the high arches with 
 an effect that startled me. The windows glowed with the 
 forms of kings and saints, and the dusty and mouldering 
 shrines which rose around were colored with the light that 
 
94 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 came through. The music pealed out like a triumphal 
 march, sinking at times into a mournful strain, as if it 
 celebrated and lamented the heroes who slept below. In 
 the stone pavement nearly under my feet was a large square 
 marble slab, with the words " Oarolo Magno." It was 
 like a dream, to stand there on the tomb of the mighty war- 
 rior, with the lofty arches of the Cathedral above, filled with 
 the sound of the divine anthem. I mused above his ashes 
 till the music ceased and then left the Cathedral, that 
 nothing might break the romantic spell associated with that 
 crumbling pile and the dead it covered. I have always 
 revered the memory of Charlemagne. He lived in a stern 
 age, but he was in mind and heart a man, and like Napoleon, 
 who placed the iron crown which had lain with him centuries 
 in the tomb, upon his own brow, he possessed a breadth and 
 grandeur of mind, which the world was forced to acknowledge. 
 At noon we took the chars-a-hanc, or second-class carriages, 
 for fear of rain ; and continued our journey over a plain dotted 
 with villages and old chateaux. Two or three miles from 
 Cologne we saw the spires of the different churches, con- 
 spicuous among which were the unfinished towers of the 
 Cathedral, with the enormous crane standing as it did when 
 they left off building, two hundred years ago or more. On 
 arriving, we drove to the Bonn railway, where, finding the 
 last train did not leave for four hours, we left our baggage 
 and set out for the Cathedral. Of all Gothic buildings, 
 the plan of this is certainly the most stupendous ; even 
 ruin as it is, it cannot fail to excite surprise and admiration. 
 The King of Prussia has undertaken to complete it accord- 
 ing to the original plan, which was lately found in the pos* 
 
LEGEND OF THE COLOGNE CATHEDRAL. 95 
 
 session of a poor man, of whom it was purchased for 40,000 
 florins, but the workmen have not jet finished repairing what 
 is already built. The legend concerning this plan may not 
 be known to every one. It is related of the inventor of it, 
 that in despair of finding any sufficiently great, he was 
 walking one day by the river, sketching with his stick upon 
 the sand, when he finally hit upon one which pleased him 
 so much that he exclaimed, " This shall be the plan !" "I 
 will show you a better one than that !" said a voice sudden- 
 ly behind him, and a certain black gentleman who figures in 
 many German legends stood by him, and pulled from his 
 pocket a roll containing the present plan of the Cathedral. 
 The architect, amazed at its grandeur, asked an explanation 
 of every part. As he knew his soul was to be the price of 
 it, he occupied himself, while the devil was explaining, in 
 committing its proportions carefully to memory. Having 
 done this, he remarked that it did not please him and he 
 would not take it. The devil, seeing through the cheat, 
 exclaimed in his rage : " You may build your Cathedral 
 according to this plan, but you shall never finish it !" This 
 prediction seems likely to be verified, for though it was com- 
 menced in 1248, and continued for 250 years, only the choir 
 and nave and one tower to half its proposed height, are finished. 
 We visited the chapel of the Eleven Thousand Virgins, the 
 walls of which are full of curious grated cells, containing 
 their bones, and then threaded the narrow streets of Cologne, 
 which are quite dirty enough to justify Coleridge's lines : 
 " The river Rhine, it is well known, 
 Doth wash the city of Cologne ; 
 But tell me, nymphs, what power divine 
 Shall henceforth wash the river Rhine!" 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE RHINE TO HEIDEI.BER^. 
 
 In Heidelberg— 'The Star Hotel at Bonn — Passing the Drachenfels— Coblentz ani 
 Ehrenbreltstein — The Charms of the Ehine — Lurlei Rock and its Echo— A Eainbow 
 at Oberwesel— Mayence — Ride to Frankfort — Hunting an Address— Mr. Richard S. 
 "Willis — The Festival at Darmstadt — Scenery of the Bergstrasse — German Peasants — 
 Fellow Passengers— Heidelberg at Sunset— A Resting Place. 
 
 Heidelberg, August 80, 1844. 
 Here at last ! and a charming place it is. This is our 
 first morning in our new rooms, and the sun streams warmly 
 in the eastern windows, as I write, while the old castle rises 
 through the blue vapor on the side of the Kaiserstuhl. The 
 Neckar rushes on below ; and the Odenwald, before me, 
 rejoices with its vineyards in the morning light. The bells 
 of the old chapel near us are sounding most musically, and a 
 confused sound of voices and the rolling of vehicles comes up 
 from the street. It is a place to live in ! 
 
 I must go back five or six days and take up the record of 
 our journeyings at Bonn. We had been looking over 
 Murray's infallible Handbook, and observed that he recom- 
 mended the " Star " hotel in that city, as " the most mode- 
 
THE STAR HOTEL AT BONN", 97 
 
 rate in its prices of any on the Rhine;" so when the train 
 from Cologne arrived and we were surrounded, in the dark- 
 ness and confusion, by porters and valets, I called out : 
 " Hotel de VEtoile d' Or /" our baggage and ourselves were 
 transferred to a stylish omnibus, and in five minutes we 
 stopped under a brilliantly-lighted archway, where Mr. 
 Joseph Schmidt received us with the usual number of smiles 
 and bows bestowed upon untitled guests. We were furnished 
 with neat rooms at the summit of the house, and then de- 
 scended to the salle a manger, I found a folded note by my 
 plate, which I opened. It contained an engraving of the 
 front of the hotel, a plan of the city and catalogue of its 
 lions, together with a list of the titled personages who have, 
 from time to time, honored the " Golden Star" with their 
 custom. Among this number were " Their Eoyal High- 
 nesses the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, Prince Albert," 
 etc. Had it not been for fatigue, I should have spent an 
 uneasy night, thinking of the heavy bill which was to bo 
 presented on the morrow. We escaped, however, for seven 
 francs apiece, three of which were undoubtedly for the 
 honor of breathing an aristocratic atmosphere. 
 
 I was glad when we were really in motion on the swift 
 Rhine, the next morning, and nearing the chain of mountains 
 that arose before us. We passed Godesberg on the right, 
 while on our left was the group of the Seven Mountains 
 which extend back from the Drachenfels to the Wolkenberg, 
 or Castle of the Clouds. Here we begin to enter the 
 enchanted land. The Rhine sweeps around the foot of the 
 Drachenfels, while the precipitous rock of Rolandseck 
 opposite, crowned with the castle of the faithful knight, looks 
 5 
 
98 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 down upon the beautiful island of Nonnenwerth, tlio white 
 walls of the convent still gleaming through the trees, as they 
 gleamed when the warrior's weary eyes looked upon them 
 for the last time. I shall never forget the enthusiasm with 
 which I saw this scene in the bright, warm sunlight, the 
 rough crags softened in the haze which filled the atmosphere, 
 and the wild mountains springing up in the midst of vine- 
 yards, and crowned with crumbling towers, haunted with 
 the memories of a thousand years. 
 
 After passing Andernach, we saw in the distance the high- 
 lands of the middle Ehine, which rise above Coblentz, 
 guarding the entrance to its wild scenery, and the mountains 
 of the Moselle. They parted as we approached ; from the 
 foot shot up the spires of Coblentz, and the battlements of 
 Ehrenbreitstein crowning the mountain opposite, grew 
 larger and broader. The air was slightly hazy, and the 
 clouds were laboring among the distant mountains to raise a 
 storm. As we came opposite the mouth of the Moselle and 
 under the shadow of the mighty fortress, I gazed up witli 
 awe at its massive walls. Apart from its magnitude and 
 almost impregnable situation on a perpendicular rock, it is 
 filled with the recollections of history and hallowed by the 
 voice of poetry. The scene went past like a panorama, the 
 bridge of boats opened, the city glided behind us and we 
 entered the highlands again. 
 
 Above Coblentz almost every mountain has a ruin and a 
 legend. One feels everywhere the spirit of the Past, and 
 its stirring recollections come back upon the mind with irre- 
 sistible force. I sat upon the deck the whole afternoon, as 
 mountains, towns and castles passed by on either side, watch- 
 
LURLEI ROCK AXD ITS ECHO. 99 
 
 ing them with a feeling of the most enthiisiastiQ enjoyment. 
 Every place was familiar to me in memory, and they seemed 
 like friends I had long communed with in spirit and now met 
 face to face. The English tourists, with whom the deck 
 was covered, seemed interested too, but in a different man- 
 ner. With Murray's Handbook open in their hands, they 
 sat and read about .the very towns and towers they were 
 passing, scarcely lifting their eyes to the real scenes, except 
 now and then, to observe that it was " very nice'' 
 
 As we passed Boppart, I sought out the Inn of the 
 " Star," mentioned in " Hyperion ;" there was a maiden 
 sitting on the steps who might have been Paul Flemming's 
 fair boat-woman. The clouds which had here gathered 
 among the hills, now came over the river, and the rain clear- 
 ed the deck of its crowd of admiring tourists. As we were 
 approaching Lurlei Berg, I did not go below, and so enjoyed 
 some of the finest scenery on the Rhine alone. The moun- 
 tains approach each other at this point, and the Lurlei Rock 
 rises up for six hundred feet from the water. This is the 
 haunt of the water nymph, Lurlei, or Loreley, whose song 
 charmed the ear of the boatman while his barque was dashed 
 to pieces on the rocks below. It is also celebrated for its 
 remarkable echo. As we passed between the rocks, a guard, 
 who has a little house built on the road-side, blew a flourish 
 on his bugle, which was instantly answered by a blast from 
 the rocky battlements of Lurlei. The German students 
 have a witty trick with this echo : they call out, " Who is 
 the Burgomaster of Oberwesel ?" a town just above. The 
 echo answers with the last syllable "Esel!" which is the 
 German for ass. 
 
100 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 The sun came out of the clouds as we passed Oberwesel, 
 with its tall round tower, and the light shining through the 
 ruined arches of Schonberg castle, made broad bars of light 
 and shade in the still misty air. A rainbow sprang up out 
 of the Rhine, and lay brightly on the mountain side, color- 
 ing vineyard and crag, in the most singular beauty, while 
 -its second reflection faintly arched like a glory above the 
 high summits. In. the bed of the river were the seven coun- 
 tesses of Schonberg, turned into seven rocks for their cruelty 
 and hard-heartedness towards the knights whom their beauty 
 had made captive. In front, at a little distance was the 
 castle of Pfalz, in the middle of the river, and from the 
 heights above Oaub frowned the crumbling citadel of Guten- 
 fels. Imagine all this, and tell me if it is not a picture whose 
 memory should last a life-time ! 
 
 We came at last to Bingen, the southern gate of the High- 
 lands. Here on an island in the middle of the stream, is 
 the old Mouse Tower where Bishop Hatto of Mayence was 
 eaten up by the rats for his wicked deeds. Passing Riide- 
 sheim and Geissenheim, celebrated for their wines, at sun- 
 set, we watched the varied shore in the growing darkness, 
 till, like a line of stars across the water, we saw before us 
 the bridge of Mayence. 
 
 The next morning I parted from my friends, who were 
 going to Heidelberg by way of Mannheim, and set out alone 
 for Frankfort. The cars passed through Hochheim, whose 
 wines are celebrated all over the world ; but there is little 
 to interest the traveller until he arrives at Frankfort, whose 
 spires are seen rising from the groves of trees as he 
 approaches. I left the cars unchallenged for my passport, 
 
FRANKFORT-ON-THE-MAIN. 101 
 
 greatly to my surprise, as it had cost me a long walk and 
 five shillings in London, to get the signature of the Frank- 
 fort Consul. I learned afterwards that it was not at all 
 necessary. Before leaving America, Mr. N. P. Willis had 
 kindly given me a letter to his brother, Richard S. Willis, 
 who is now cultivating a naturally fine taste for music in 
 Frankfort, and my first care was to find the American Con- 
 sul, in order to learn his residence. I discovered at last 
 from a gentleman who spoke a little French, that the Con- 
 sul's office was in the street Bellevue, which street I not only 
 looked for through the city, but crossed over the bridge to 
 the suburb of Sachsenhausen, and traversed its narrow, dir- 
 ty alleys three several times, but in vain. I was about giv- 
 ing up the search, when I stumbled upon the office accidental- 
 ly. The name of the street had been given to me in French, 
 and very naturally it was not to be found. Mr. Willis 
 received me very kindly, and introduced me to the amiable 
 German family with whom he resides. 
 
 After spending a delightful evening with my newly-found 
 friends, I left the next morning in the omnibus for Heidel- 
 berg. Four hours' driving over the monotonous plain 
 brought me to Darmstadt. The city wore a gay look, left 
 by the recentye^e^. The monument of the old Duke Lud- 
 wig had just been erected in the centre of the great square, 
 and the festival attendant upon the unveiling of it, which 
 lasted three days, had just closed. The city was hung with 
 garlands, and the square filled with the pavilions of the 
 royal family and the musicians, of whom there were a thou- 
 sand present, while every where were seen red and white 
 flags— the colors of Darmstadt. We met wagons decorated 
 
102 VIEWS A-FOOT, 
 
 with gai:lands, full of peasant girls in tlie odd dress whicli 
 tliey have worn for three hundred years. 
 
 After leaving Darmstadt we entered upon the Bergstrasse, 
 or Mountain-way, leading along the foot of the mountain 
 chain which extends all the way to Heidelberg on the left, 
 while on the right stretches far away the Rhine-plain, across 
 which we saw the dim outline of the Donnersberg, in 
 France. The hills are crowned with castles and their sides 
 loaded with vines ; along the road the rich green foliage of 
 the walnut trees arched and nearly met above us. The sun 
 shone warm and bright, and every body appeared busy and 
 contented and happy. All whom we met had smiling coun- 
 tenances. In some places we saw whole families sitting 
 under the • trees shelling the nuts they had beaten down, 
 while others were returning from the vineyards, laden with 
 baskets of purple and white grapes. The scene realized all 
 I had read of the happiness of the German peasantry, and 
 the pastoral beauty of the German plains. With the pas- 
 sengers in the omnibus I could hold little conversation. 
 One, who knew about as much French as I did, asked me 
 where I came from, and I shall not forget the expression of 
 incredulity, as I mentioned America. " Why," said he, 
 " you are white — the Americans are all black !" 
 
 We passed the ruined castles of Auerbach and Starken- 
 burg, and Burg Windeck, formerly one of the royal residences 
 of Charlemagne, and finally came to the Heiligenberg or 
 Holy Mountain, guarding the entrance to the valley of the 
 Neckar. The sun was just setting as the ponderous vehicle 
 rounded the foot of the mountain, and Heidelberg — the 
 brave, romantic, beautiful old electoral city — lay spread out 
 
HEIDELBERG AT SUNSET. 103 
 
 before me on the opposite side of tlie river. Far above it 
 rose tlie wooded Kaiserstulil, midway down whose side hung 
 the massive bastions, terraces and roofless halls of the 
 famous Castle. Heavy masses of ivy hung from its arches, 
 and overran the <][uaint sculpture oi its walls, while the foli- 
 age of its gardens was visible behind, deep in the shadow 
 of the mountain. A faint yellow glow trembled over the 
 pines and birches on the top of the Kaiserstulil, and kept 
 the clear blue on the distant hills up 'the Neckar. Down 
 the steep paths of the Holy Mountain, on our left, came the 
 peasant-girls, with baskets on their heads, laden with the 
 purple clusters of the Muscatel, and talking to each other 
 gaily over garden walls. Careless students, pipe in hand, 
 sauntered along the river bank, listening to the sweet 
 evening chimes, rung first in the belfries of the town, and 
 taken up like an echo, from village to village among the 
 hills. 
 
 Looking forward to Heidelberg as a place for rest and 
 quiet study, there was something peculiarly grateful and 
 tranquillizing in the scene. To my eyes the scenery pre- 
 sented a mingling of the wild with the cultivated — of the 
 pastoral with the grand — a combination so inspiring that I 
 found it difficult to keep my enthusiasm within proper 
 bounds. From the river-bank, above the bridge, cannon were 
 firing a closing salute for the Grand Duke's birth-day, the 
 sound crashing from hill to hill, far away into the Oden- 
 wald. The German passengers in the omnibus were highly 
 gratified by my dehght, for they were proud of Heidelberg. 
 By good luck, my friends, who had arrived the day before, 
 
104 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 happened to be passing up tlie main street, when the vehicle 
 stopped and took me at once to their temporary q^uarters at 
 the Badischer Hof. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 A MONTH AT HEIDELBERG. 
 
 Eooms in Heidelberg— The Landlady— Yiew from our "Window— The Yalley of the 
 Neckar— Heidelberg Castle— The Towers— The Great Tun— The Wolfsbrunnen— 
 An Afternoon Party— Ascent of the Heiligenberg— The Pastor of Zeigelhausen— 
 The University Library— A Wedding— Conscripts— German Cookery and Cus- 
 toms—The Melibochus— The Sea of Eocks— The Giant's Column — Keturn. 
 
 Heidelberg, September 30, 1844. 
 The clay after my arrival here, by tlie help of a valet de 
 place, who spoke a few words of English, we obtained three 
 rooms in a large Louse overhanging the Neckar. "We pay 
 for them, with attendance, thirty florins — about twelve dol- 
 lars — a month, and Frau Dr. Grosch, our polite and talkative 
 landlady, gives us a student's breakfast — coffee and biscuit 
 — for about seven cents apiece. We are often much amused 
 to hear her endeavors to make us understand. As if to con- 
 vey her meaning better, she raises both thumbs and fore- 
 fingers to her mouth and pulls out the words like a long 
 string ; while her tongue goes so fast that it keeps my mind 
 always on a painful stretch to comprehend an expression 
 
 here and there. Dr. S , from whom we take lessons in 
 
 5* 
 
106 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 German, has kindly consented to our dining with liis family 
 for the sake of practice in speaking. The language is fast 
 grooving familiar, since women are the principal teachers. 
 
 Opposite to my window rises the Heiligenberg, on the 
 other side of the Neckar. The lower part of it is rich with 
 vineyards, and many cottages are embosomed in shrubbery 
 among them. Sometimes we see groups of maidens standing 
 under the grape arbors, and every morning the peasant 
 women go toiling up the steep paths with baskets on their 
 heads, to labor among the vines. On the Neckar below us, 
 the fishermen glide about in their boats, sink their square 
 nets fastened to long poles, and haul them up with the glit- 
 tering fish, of which the stream is full. I often lean out of 
 the window late at night, when the mountains above are 
 wrapped in dusky obscurity, and listen to the low, musical 
 ripple of the river. It tells to my excited fancy a knightly 
 legend of the old German time. Then comes the bell, rung 
 for closing the inns, breaking the spell with its deep clang, 
 which vibrates far away on the night air, and wakes all the 
 echoes of the Odenwald. I then shut the window, turn 
 into the narrow box which the Germans call a bed, and in a 
 few minutes am wandering in America. Half way up the 
 Heiligenberg runs a beautiful walk, dividing the vineyards 
 from the forest above. This is called the Philosopher's 
 Way, because it was the favorite ramble of the old Profes- 
 sors of the University. It can be reached by a toilsome, 
 winding path among the vines, called the Snake-way, and 
 when one has ascended to it he is well rewarded by the 
 lovely view. In the evening, when the sun is behind the 
 mountain, it is delightful to sit on the stone ste]^s and watch 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE NECKAR. l(^t 
 
 the golden liglit creeping up the side of the Kaiserstuhl, 
 until at last twilight begins to darken in the valley and a 
 mantle of mist gathers above the river. 
 
 The valley of the Neckar is narrow, and only the little 
 slopes which here and there lie between the feet of its 
 wooded mountains are capable of cultivation. Higher up, 
 there are glens and meadows of luxuriant grass, to which 
 the peasants drive their cattle ; further still, it is barren and 
 rocky, and upon the summits rests a solitude as complete as 
 upon the unsettled prairies of the West. An hour's walk 
 takes one from the busy streets of the little city to this 
 beautiful and lonely region, and the stranger may explore 
 the paths he finds leading far away among the hills, for 
 weeks together. The people of Heidelberg are rich in 
 places of pleasure and amusement. From the Carl Platz, 
 an open square at the upper end of the city, two paths lead 
 directly up to the castle. By the first walk we ascend a flight 
 of steps to the western gate, passing through which, we 
 enter a delightful garden, between the outer walls of the 
 Castle, and the huge moat which surrounds it. Great linden, 
 oak and beech trees shadow the walks, and in secluded 
 nooks, little mountain streams spring from the side of the 
 wall into stone basins. There is a tower over the moat on the 
 south side, next the mountain, where the portcullis still hangs 
 with its sharp teeth as it was last drawn up ; on each side 
 two grim knights guard the entrance. In one of the wood- 
 ed walks is an old tree brought from America in the year 
 1618. It is an arhor vitce, uncommonly tall and slender for 
 one of this species ; yet it does not seem to thrive well in a 
 foreio^n soil. In the curve of the mountain is a handsome 
 
108 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 pavilion, surrounded witli beds of flowers and fountains ; 
 here all classes meet together in the afternoon to take re- 
 freshment in the shade, while frequently a fine band of 
 music gives them their invariable recreation. The Germans 
 enjoy life under all circumstances, and are a much happier 
 people than we, who have far greater means of being so. 
 
 At the end of the terrace built for the Princess Elizabeth 
 of England, is one of the round towers which was split in 
 twain by the French. Half has fallen entirely away, and 
 the other semicircular shell which joins the terrace and part 
 of the Castle buildings, clings firmly together, although part 
 of its foundation is gone, so that its outer ends actually hang 
 in the air. Some idea of the strength of the castle may be 
 obtained when I state that the walls of this tower are twen- 
 ty-two feet thick, and that a staircase has been made through 
 them to the top, where one can sit under the lindens growing 
 upon it, or look down from the end on the city below, with 
 the pleasant consciousness that the great mass upon which 
 he stands is only prevented from crashing down with him by 
 the solidity of its masonry. On one side, joining the gar- 
 den, the statue of the Archduke Louis, in his breastplate 
 and flowing beard, looks out from among the ivy. 
 
 There is little to be seen about the Castle, except the walls 
 themselves. The guide conducted us through passages, in 
 which were heaped many of the enormous cannon balls re- 
 ceived in sieges, to some chambers in the foundation. This 
 was the oldest part of the Castle, built in the thirteenth cen- 
 tury. We also visited the chapel, which is in a tolerable 
 state of preservation. A kind of narrow bridge crosses it, 
 over which we walked, looking down on the empty pulpit 
 
THE WOLFSBRUNNEN. 109 
 
 and deserted shrines. We then went into the cellar to see 
 the celebrated Tun. In a large yault are kept several 
 enormous hogsheads, one of which is three hundred years 
 old, but they are nothing in comparison with the tun, which 
 itself fills a whole vault. It is as high as a common two- 
 story house ; on the top is a platform upon which the people 
 used to dance after it was filled. It will contain 800 barrels 
 of wine, but has been empty for fifty years. 
 
 Then there is the Wolfsbrunnen, which one reaches by a 
 beautiful walk up the bank of the Neckar, to a quiet dell in 
 the side of the mountain. Here a path wanders off by 
 rustic mills, always in motion, and orchards laden with ripen- 
 ing fruit, to the commencement of the forest, where a quaint 
 stone fountain stands, commemorating the abode of a sorcer- 
 ess of the olden time, who was torn in pieces by a wolf. 
 There is a handsome rustic inn here, where every Sunday 
 afternoon a band plays in the portico, while hundreds of 
 people are scattered around in the cool shadow of the trees, 
 or feeding the splendid trout in the basin formed by the little 
 stream. They generally return to the city by a path along 
 the mountain side, to the eastern terrace of the castle, where 
 they have fine views of the great Hhine plain, terminated by 
 the Alsatian hills, stretching along the western horizon like 
 the long crested swells on the ocean. We can even see 
 these from the windows of our room on the bank of the 
 Neckar ; and I often look with interest on one sharp peak, 
 for on its side stands the Castle of Trifels, where Coeur de 
 Lion was imprisoned by the Duke of Austria. 
 
 A few days ago a party was formed by our German friends, 
 and we spent an afternoon at the Wolfsbrunnen. Frau Dr. 
 
110 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 S , who was always ready for any social undertaking, 
 
 had the management of the excursion, and directed us with 
 the skill of a general. Fratilein Elise, her niece, a blooming 
 
 maiden of sixteen, and Madame — , a sprightly little 
 
 widow from Mannheim, with Dr. S , one or two students, 
 
 and we Americans, were her subjects. The books, the cards, 
 the guitar and music were distributed among those best able 
 to carry them, and we finally started, without any particular 
 order of march. German etiquette forbids a lady to take the 
 arm of a male friend, unless she is betrothed to him : talking 
 is allowed, fortunately. 
 
 As we climbed to the terraces of the castle, we could see 
 the thread of the Ehine, in the distance, sparkling through 
 the haze. The light air which came down the Neckar was 
 fragrant with pine and the first falling leaves of summer 
 trees. The vineyards below us were beginning to look crisp 
 and brown, but hanging from stake to stake the vines were 
 bent down by blue clusters, with the bloom still upon them. 
 Troops of light-hearted students, children, blue-eyed and 
 blond-haired, and contented citizens, were taking the same 
 path, and like them, we forgot every thing but the sense of 
 present happiness. We had a table spread upon the upper 
 balcony of the inn, after our scattered forces returned from 
 many a long ramble up the glen and out on the meadows. 
 
 Frau Dr. S ordered a repast, and the " landlady's 
 
 daughter" — not the sweet maid of Uhland's song, but a 
 stout-armed and stout-waisted damsel — brought us a jar of 
 curds, dripping with the cool water in which it had stood. 
 A loaf of brown bread next made its appearance, followed 
 by a stone jug of foaming beer, and two or three dishes of 
 
CLIMBING THE HEILIGENBERG. Ill 
 
 those prune-tarts peculiar to Germany completed the fare. 
 On the porch below us, two or three musicians played 
 waltzes, and the tables around the fountain were filled with 
 students, laughing, clinking their beer-glasses, or trolling 
 some burschen chorus. Our own table did not lack the 
 heartiest spirit of mirth ; this could not be otherwise so long 
 
 as Frau Dr. S sat at the head of it. The students were 
 
 gay and full of life, and even Dr. S , the most correct 
 
 and studious of the party, was so far influenced by the spirit 
 of the time, that he sang the " King of Thule " with more 
 warmth than I had thought possible. 
 
 We ascended the Heiligenberg a few days ago. There is a 
 path which leads through the forest, but we took the shortest 
 way, directly up the side, although it was at an angle of 
 nearly fifty degrees. It was hard work enough,- scrambling 
 through the thick broom and heather, and over stumps and 
 stones. In one of the stone-heaps I dislodged a large 
 orange-colored salamander, seven or eight inches long. 
 They are sometimes found on these mountains, as well as a 
 very large kind of lizard, which the Germans say is per- 
 fectly harmless, and if one whistles or plays a pipe, will 
 come and play around him. The view from the top is simi- 
 lar to that from the Kaiserstuhl opposite, but on a smaller 
 scale. Nestled at the base below us, was the little village 
 of Handschuhheim, one of the oldest in this part of Germa- 
 ny. The castle of its former lords has nearly all fallen 
 down, but the massive solidity of the walls which yet stand, 
 proves its antiquity. A few years ago, a part of the outer 
 wall which was remarked to have a hollow sound Avas taken 
 down, when a skeleton, clad in a suit of the old German 
 
112 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 armor, fell from a deep niche built therein. "We followed a 
 road through the woods to the peak on which stand the 
 ruins of St. Michael's chapel, which was built in the tenth 
 century and inhabited for a long time by a sect of white 
 monks. It had a wild and romantic look, and I sat on a 
 rock and sketched at it, until night came on, when we got 
 down the mountain the best way we could. 
 
 The village of Ziegelhausen, up the Neckar, with its grim 
 old convent, gardens and cascades, and the delightful arbors 
 of vine, reaching down to the very brink of the river, is 
 another favorite place of resort. The pastor of its church, 
 who is familiar with our German friends, frequently joins us 
 in an afternoon walk, followed by a cup of tea in the garden 
 of the inn, or a share in the games of the village children. 
 The pastor is a most jovial, genial character ; he sings very 
 finely — indeed he is brother to the primo tenore in the Opera 
 at Brunswick — and his wit is inexhaustible. His religion is 
 as genuine as his cheerfulness ; it is no gloomy asceticism, 
 which looks on mirth as sin, but a joyous, affectionate, and 
 abounding spirit, bright as God's sunshine, and as uncon- 
 scious of its blessing. How happily pass our September 
 afternoons, warmed by such true social feeling, and re- 
 freshed by all the kindly influences of nature ! If a return 
 like this to the simple joys of the child's heart be but 
 obtained by the mature age of a nation, I could almost wish 
 our own country might grow old speedily. The restless 
 energy of Youth is still upon us. The nation overflows 
 with active impulses, which fear nothing, and yield to 
 nothing. We have not yet felt the need of Rest. 
 
 We lately visited the great University Library. You 
 
A WEDDING — CONSCRIPTS. 113 
 
 walk tlirougli hall after hall, filled with books of all kinds, 
 from the monkish manuscript of the middle ages, to the most 
 elegant print of the present day. There is something to me 
 more impressive in a library like this than a solemn Cathedral. 
 I think involuntarily of the hundreds of mighty spirits who 
 speak from these three hundred thousand volumes — of the 
 toils and privations with which Genius has ever struggled, 
 and of his glorious reward. As in a church, one feels as it 
 were the presence of God ; not because the place has been 
 hallowed by His worship, but because all around stand the 
 inspirations of His spirit, breathed through the mind of 
 genius, to men. 
 
 A few nights ago there was a wedding of peasants across 
 the river. The guests assembled at the house where it was 
 given, by torchhght. The night was quite dark, and the 
 bright red torches glowed on the surface of the Neckar, as 
 the two couriers galloped along the banks to the bride- 
 groom's house, Here, after much shouting and confusion, 
 the procession was arranged, the two riders started back 
 again with their torches, and the wagons containing the 
 guests followed after, with then- flickering lights glancing on 
 the water, until they disappeared around the foot of the 
 mountain. The choosing of conscripts also took place 
 lately. The law requires one person out of every hundred 
 to become a soldier, and this, in the city of Heidelberg, 
 amounts to nearly 150 recruits. It was a sad spectacle. 
 The young men, or rather boys, who were chosen, went 
 about the city with cockades fastened on their hats, shouting 
 and singing, many of them quite intoxicated. Many were 
 rough, ignorant peasants, to whom nearly any kind of life 
 
114 
 
 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 would be agreeable ; but there were some whose counte- 
 nances spoke otherwise, and I thought involuntarily that 
 their drunken gaiety was only affected to conceal their 
 repugnance to the lot which had fallen upon them. 
 
 We are gradually becoming accustomed to the German 
 style of living, which is very different from our own. Their 
 cookery is new to us, but is nevertheless palatable. We 
 have every day a different kind of soup, so that I have sup- 
 posed they keep a regular list of three hundred and sixty- 
 five, one for every day in the year ! Then we have potato 
 salad, veal flavored with orange peel, barley pudding, boiled 
 artichokes, and rye bread, in loaves a yard long. Neverthe- 
 less, we thrive on such diet, and I have rarely enjoyed more 
 sound and refreshing sleep than in the narrow and coiEn-like 
 beds, uncomfortable as they seem. Many of the German 
 customs are amusing. We never see oxen working here, 
 but always cows, sometimes a single one in a cart, and some- 
 times two fastened together by a yoke across their horns. 
 The women labor constantly in the fields, and from our vrin- 
 dow we can hear the nut-brown maidens singing their cheer- 
 ful songs among the vineyards on the mountain side. Their 
 costume, too, is odd enough. Below the tight-fitting vest 
 they wear such a number of short skirts, one above another, 
 that it reminds one of an animated hogshead, with a head 
 and shoulders starting out from the top. I have heard it 
 gravely asserted that the wealth of a German damsel may 
 be known by counting the number of her kirtles. An 
 acquaintance of mine remarked, that it would be an excel- 
 lent costume for falling down a precipice. 
 
 We have just returned from a second visit to Frankfort, 
 
THE SEA OF ROCKS. 115 
 
 where tlie great annual fair filled the streets with noise and 
 bustle. On our return, we stopped at the village of Zwin- 
 genberg, which lies at the foot of the Melibochus, for the 
 purpose of visiting some of the scenery of the Odenwald. 
 Passing the night at the inn there, we slept with one bed 
 under us and two above, and started early in the morning to 
 climb up the side of the Melibochus. After a long walk 
 through the forests, which were beginning to change their 
 summer foliage for a brighter garment, we reached the sum- 
 mit and ascended the stone tower which stands upon it. 
 This view gives one a better idea of the Odenwald, than 
 that from the Kaiserstuhl at Heidelberg. In the soft autumn 
 atmosphere it looked even more beautiful. After an hour 
 in that heaven of uplifted thought, into which we step from 
 the mountain-top, our minds went with the path downward 
 to the earth, and we descended the eastern side into the wild 
 region which contains the Felsenmeer, or Sea of Rocks. 
 
 We met on the way a student from Fulda — a fine speci- 
 men of that free-spirited class, and a man whose smothered 
 aspiration was betrayed in the flashing of his eye, as he 
 spoke of the present painful and oppressed condition of 
 Germany. We talked so busily together that without notic- 
 ing the path, which had been bringing us on, up hill and 
 down, through forest and over rock, we came at last to a 
 halt in a valley among the mountains. Making inquiries 
 there, we found we had gone wrong, and must ascend again 
 by a different path. Near the summit of the mountain, in 
 a wild pine wood, was the Felsenmeer — a great collection of 
 rocks heaped together like pebbles on the sea shore, and 
 worn and rounded as if by the action of water. So much 
 
116 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 do they resemble waves, that one who stands at the bottom 
 and looks up, cannot resist the idea, that they will flow 
 down upon him. It must have been a mighty tide whose re- 
 ceding waves left these masses piled together. The same 
 formation continues at intervals, to the foot of the mountains. 
 A little higher up, lies a massive block of granite called the 
 " Giant's Column." It is thirty-two feet long and three or 
 four feet in diameter, and still bears the mark of the chisel. 
 When or by whom it was made remains a mystery. Some 
 have supposed it was intended to be erected for the worship 
 of the Sun, by the wild Teutonic tribes who inhabited this 
 forest ; it is more probably the work of the Romans. A 
 project was once started, to erect it as a monument on the 
 battle-field of Leipsic, but it was found too difficult to carry 
 into execution. 
 
 After dining at the little village of E-eichelsdorf in the 
 valley below, where the merry landlord charged my friend 
 two kreutzers less than myself because he was not so tall, 
 . we visited the Castle of Schonberg, and joined the Berg- 
 strasse again. We returned to Heidelberg on foot the same 
 evening, but long before we arrived, the moon shone down 
 on us over the mountains, and when we turned around the 
 foot of the Heiligenberg, the mist descending in the valley 
 of the Neckar, rested like a light cloud on the church 
 spiresp 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A WALK THROUGH THE O D E N W A L D . 
 
 Removal to Frankfort — A German Parting— Twilight on the Mountains — The Inn of 
 Elsbach — A Frosty Morning — A Tillage Fair — The Castle of Erbach— Historical 
 Armor — An Antiquarian Theft — Curiosity of the Peasants — Castle of the "Wild 
 Huntsman— An Old Peasant — The Emigrant Family. 
 
 Frankfort-on-the-Maine, Oct. 25, 1844. 
 I AM now comfortably settled for the winter in this stately 
 old city, having emigrated hither from Heidelberg three 
 
 weeks ago. My friend B and I, through the assistance 
 
 of Mr. E-ichard Willis, have obtained quarters with the 
 amiable family with whom he has been residing for two 
 years past. We find that the cost of living is somewhat 
 less here than in Heidelberg, and hope to see more of the 
 domestic and social life of Germany. My cousin, who 
 desires to attend the winter course of lectures at the Uni- 
 versity, remains at the latter place. 
 
 Having forwarded our baggage by the omnibus, we came 
 hither on foot, through the heart of the Odenwald, a region 
 
 full of interest, yet little visited by travellers. Dr. S 
 
 and his family walked with us three or four miles of the 
 
118 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 way, and on a Jbill above Ziegelhausen, with a splendid view 
 behind us, through the mountain-door out of which the 
 Neckar enters on the Ehine-plain, we parted. This was a 
 first, and I must confess, a somewhat embarrassing experi- 
 ence of German leave-taking. After bidding adieu three or 
 four times, we started to go up the mountain and they down 
 it, but at every second step we had to turn around to 
 acknowledge the waving of hands and handkerchiefs which 
 continued as long as we were in sight. We descended on 
 the other side into a wild and romantic valley, whose mea- 
 dows were of the brightest green ; a little brook which 
 wound through them, put now and then its silvery shoulder 
 to the wheel of a rustic mill. By the road-side two or three 
 wild-looking gipsies sat around a fire, with some goats feed- 
 ing near them. 
 
 Passing through this valley and the little village of Scho- 
 nau, we commenced ascending one of the loftiest ranges of 
 the Odenwald. The side of the mountain was covered with 
 a thick pine forest. There was no wind to wake its solemn 
 anthem ; all was calm and majestic, and even awful. The 
 trees rose all around like the pillars of a vast Cathedral, 
 whose long arched aisles vanished far below in the deepen- 
 ing gloom. We went on and up and ever higher ; the beech 
 and dwarf oak took the place of the pine, and at last we 
 arrived at a cleared summit whose long brown grass waved 
 desolately in the dim light of evening. A faint glow still 
 lingered over the forest hills, but down in the valley the 
 dusky shades hid every vestige of life, though its sounds 
 came up softened through the long space. When we reach- 
 ed the top, a bright planet stood like a diamond over the 
 
SCENERY OF THE ODENWALD. 119 
 
 brow of the eastern hill, and the sound of a twilight bell 
 came up clearly and sonorously on the cool, damp air. The 
 white veil of mist slowly descended the mountain side, but 
 the peaks rose above it like the wrecks of a world floating 
 in space. "We made our way in the dusk down the long 
 path, to the rude little dorf of Elsbach. I asked at tlie first 
 inn for lodging, and we were ushered into a great room, 
 in which a number of girls who had been at work in the 
 fields, were assembled. They were all dressed in cloth 
 jackets and short gowns, and some had their hair streaming 
 down their backs. The landlord's daughter, however, was a 
 beautiful girl, whose modest, delicate features contrasted 
 greatly with the coarse faces of the others. I thought of 
 Uhland's beautiful little poem of " The Landlady's Daugh- 
 ter," as I looked on her. In the room hung two or three 
 pair of antlers, and they told us deer were still plenty in 
 the forests. 
 
 When we left the village the next morning, we again 
 commenced ascending. Over the whole valley and half way 
 up the mountain, lay a thick white frost, almost like snow, 
 which, contrasted with the green trees and bushes scattered 
 over the meadows, produced the most singular efi'ect. We 
 plucked blackberries ready iced from the bushes by the 
 road-side, and went on in the cold, for the sun shone only on 
 the top of the opposite mountain, into another valley down 
 which rushed the rapid Ulver. At a little village which 
 bears the beautiful name of Anteschonmattenwagj we took 
 a foot-path directly over a steep mountain to the village of 
 Finkenbach. Near the top I found two wild-looking chil- 
 dren, cutting grass with knives, both of whom I prevailed 
 
120 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 upon for a few kreutzers to stand and let me sketch them. 
 From the summit the view on the other side was very strik- 
 ing. The hills were covered with wood, and not a dwelling 
 in sight. It reminded me of our forest scenery at home, 
 except that the trees were much smaller. 
 
 At length, after scaling another mountain, we reached a 
 wide, elevated plain, in the middle of which stood the old 
 dorf of Beerfelden. It was then crowded with people, on 
 account of a great cattle-fair being held there. All the 
 farmers of the neighborhood were assembled, clad in the 
 ancient country costume— broad cocked hats and blue frocks. 
 An orchard near the town was filled with cattle and horses, 
 and near by, in the shade, a number of pedlars had arranged 
 their wares. The cheerful looking country people touched 
 their hats to us as we passed. This custom of greeting 
 travellers^ universal in Germany, is very expressive of their 
 social, friendly manners. Among the mountains, we fre- 
 quently met groups of children who sang together their 
 simple ballads as we passed by. 
 
 From Beerfelden we passed down the valley of the Mim- 
 ling to Erbach, the principal city in the Odenwald, where 
 we halted a short time to view the Kittersaal in the old 
 family castle of the Counts of Erbach. An officer, who 
 stood at the gates, conducted us to the door, where we were 
 received by a noble-looking, gray-headed steward. He 
 took us into the Eittersaal at once, which was like stepping 
 back three hundred years. The stained windows of the 
 lofty Grothic hall let in a subdued light, which fell on the 
 forms of kings and knights, clad in the armor they wore 
 during life. On the left as we entered, were mail-eovered 
 
THE CASTLE OF ERBACH. 121 
 
 figures of John and Cosmo de Medici ; further on stood the 
 Emperor Maximilian, and by his side the celebrated dwarf 
 who was served up in a pie at one of the imperial feasts. 
 His armor was most delicate and beautiful, but small as it 
 was, Tom Thumb would have room to spare in it. Gustavus 
 Adolphus and Wallenstein looked down from the neighboring 
 pedestals, while at the other end stood Goetz von Berlichin- 
 gen and Albert of Brunswick. The steward told me that . 
 the iron hand of Goetz was in possession of the family, but 
 not shown to strangers ; he pointed out, however, the buckles 
 on the armor, by which it was fastened. Adjoining the hall 
 is an antique chapel, filled with rude old tombs, and contain- 
 ing the sarcophagus of Count Eginhard of Denmark, who 
 lived about the tenth century. There were also monkish 
 garments five hundred years old hanging up in it. 
 
 The collection of antiquities is large and interesting ; but 
 it is said that the old Count obtained some of them in rather 
 a questionable manner. Among other incidents they relate 
 that when in Rome he visited the Pope, taking with him an 
 old servant who accompanied him in all his travels, and was 
 the accomplice in most of his antiquarian thefts. In one of 
 the outer halls, among the curiosities, was an antique shield 
 of great value. The servant was left in this hall while the 
 Count had his audience, and in a short time this shield was 
 missed. The servant, who wore a long cloak, was missed 
 also ; orders were given to close the gates and search every 
 body, but it was too late — the thief was gone. 
 
 Leaving Erbach we found out the direction of Snellert, 
 the castle of the Wild Huntsman, and took a road that led 
 us for two or three hours along the top of a mountain ridge. 
 
122 YIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 Through the openings in the pine and larch forests, we had 
 glimpses of the hills of Spessart, beyond the Main. When 
 we finally left the by-road we had chosen it was quite dark, 
 and we missed the way altogether among the lanes and 
 meadows. We came at last to a full stop at the house of a 
 farmer, who guided us by a foot-path over the fields to a 
 small village. On entering the only inn, kept by the Burgo- 
 master, the people, on finding we were Americans, regarded 
 us with a curiosity quite uncomfortable. They crowded 
 around the door, watching every motion, and gazed in through 
 the windows. The wild huntsman himself could scarcely have 
 made a greater sensation. The news of our arrival seemed 
 to have spread very fast, for the next morning when we 
 stopped at a prune orchard some distance from the village to 
 buy some fruit, the farmer cried out from a tree, " they are 
 the Americans ; give them as many as they want for 
 nothing !" 
 
 With the Burgomaster's little son for a guide, we went 
 back a milQ or two of our route to Snellert, which we had 
 passed the night before, and after losing ourselves two or 
 three times in the woods, arrived at last at the top of the 
 mountain, where the ruins of the castle stand. The walls 
 are nearly level with the ground. The interest of a visit 
 rests entirely on the romantic legend, and the wild view 
 over the hills around. On the opposite mountain are the 
 ruins of Rodenstein, to which the wild Huntsman was wont 
 to ride at midnight — where he now rides no more. The 
 echoes of Eodenstein are no longer awakened by the sound 
 of his bugle, and the hoofs of his demon steed clanging on 
 the battlements. But the hills around are wild enough, and 
 
THE ExMIGRANT FAMILY. 123 
 
 the roar of the pine forests deep enough to have inspired the 
 simple peasants with the romantic tradition. 
 
 Stopping for dinner at the town of Rheinheim, we met an 
 old man, who, on learning we were Americans, walked with 
 us as far as the next village. He had a daughter in America, 
 and was highly gratified to meet any one from the country 
 of her adoption. He made me promise to visit her, if I 
 ever should go to St. Louis, and say that I had walked with 
 her father from E-heinheim to Zwangenburg. To satisfy his 
 fears lest I might forget it, I took down his name and that 
 of his daughter. He shook me warmly by the hand at 
 parting, and was evidently made happier for that day. 
 
 We reached Darmstadt just in time to take a seat in the 
 omnibus for Frankfort. Among the passengers were a 
 Bavarian family, on their way to Bremen, whence they 
 intended sailing for Texas. I endeavored to discourage 
 the man from choosing such a country for his home, by 
 telling him of the climate and the Indians, but he was too 
 full of hope to be shaken in his purpose. I .would have 
 added that it was a slave-land, but I thought on our own 
 country's curse, and was silent. The wife was not so san- 
 guine ; she seemed to mourn in secret at leaving her beauti- 
 ful fatherland. It was saddening to think how lonely they 
 would feel in that far home, and how they would long, with 
 true German devotion, to look again on the green vintage- 
 hills of their forsaken country. As night drew on, the little 
 girl crept over to her father for his accustomed evening kiss, 
 and then sank back to sleep in a corner of the wagon. The 
 boy, in the artless confidence of childhood, laid his head on 
 my breast, weary with the day's travel, and soon slept also. 
 
124 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 Thus we drove on in the dark, till at length the lights of 
 Frankfort glimmered on the breast of the rapid Main, as we 
 passed over the bridge, and when we stopped near the 
 Cathedral, I delivered up my little charge, and sent my 
 sympathy with the wanderers on their lonely way. 
 
OHAPTEE XII. 
 
 RESIDENCE IN FRANKFORT. 
 
 Frankfort and its Associations— Our Quarters— Mr. Richard S. Willis — The Market- 
 Women — Inauguration of the Statue of Goethe — The Streets of Frankfort — The 
 Main Bridge — The Golden Cock — Weather — Baron Rothschild — ^The Promenades — 
 Celebration of the Vintage— The Poet Freiligrath. 
 
 Frankfort, December 4, 1844. 
 This is a genuine old German city. Founded by Charle- 
 magne, afterwards a rallying point of the Crusaders, and for 
 a long time the capital of the German Empire, it has no 
 lack of interesting historical recollections, and notwithstand- 
 ing it is now fast becoming modernized, one is everywhere 
 reminded of the Past. The Cathedral, old as the days of 
 Peter the Hermit, the grotesque street of the Jews, the 
 many quaint, antiquated dwellings and the mouldering watch- 
 towers on the hills around, give it a more interesting charac- 
 ter than any German city I have yet seen. The house we 
 dwell in, on the Markt Platz, is more than two hundred 
 years old ; directly opposite is a great castellated building, 
 gloomy with the weight of six centuries, and a few steps to 
 the left brings me to the square of the Eomerberg, where 
 
126 VIFWS A-FOOT. 
 
 the Emperors were crowned, in a corner of whicli is a curi- 
 ously ornamented house, formerly the residence of Luther. 
 There are legends innumerable connected with all these 
 buildings, and even yet discoveries of secret chambers and 
 staircases are frequently made in old houses. When you add 
 to all this, the German love of ghost stories, and, indeed, 
 their general belief in spirits, the lover of romance could not 
 desire a more agreeable residence. 
 
 We have two rooms on the second floor, overlooking the 
 crowded market, and commanding the top of the E-omerberg. 
 As in all old German houses, there are no carpets, and the 
 furniture is of the simplest and plainest character. We 
 
 take our meals with the family of Herr S , of which, 
 
 indeed, we now form a part, conforming in every respect to 
 their habits, and sharing in all their social enjoyments. The 
 difficulties of the language are at last overcome, and all the 
 more familiar phrases of the hearty German tongue come 
 as naturally to my lips as the corresponding English ones. 
 I now read Hauff, and Uhland, and Schiller, without difficul- 
 ty, and look forward to a winter of rich enjoyment, in the 
 
 study of the great German authors. I pay Herr S , 
 
 twenty -five florins — about ten dollars — monthly, for all the 
 privileges of a home, and thus, in spite of my diminishing 
 funds, I am at least certain of knowing Germany and the 
 Germans, before being obliged to return home. 
 
 Mr. Willis, whose society adds another pleasure to our 
 sojourn here, has been in Frankfort since 1842, studying 
 and preparing himself for the higher branches of musical 
 composition. The talent he displayed while at college, and 
 the success following the publication of a set of beautiful 
 
THE MARKET-WOMEN. 12*7 
 
 waltzes he there composed, led him to choose this most diffi- 
 cult but lofty path. The result justifies his early promise, 
 and gives the most saDguine anticipation for the future. He 
 studied the first two years here under Schnyder von War- 
 tensee, a distinguished Swiss composer ; and his exercises 
 have met with the warmest approval from Mendelssohn, at 
 present the first German composer, and Einck, the celebrated 
 organist. The enormous labor and application required to 
 go through the preparatory studies alone, would make it 
 seem almost impossible for one with the restless energy of 
 the American character, to undertake it ; but as this very 
 energy gives genius its greatest power, we may now trust 
 with confidence that Mr. Willis, since he has nearly com- 
 pleted his studies, will win himself and his country honor in 
 the difficult path he has chosen. 
 
 I often look out on the singular scene below my window. 
 On both sides of the street, leaving barely room to enter 
 the houses, sit the market-women, with their baskets of 
 vegetables and fruit. The middle of the street is filled with 
 female purchasers, and every cart or carriage that comes 
 along, has to force its way through the crowd, sometimes 
 rolling against and overturning the baskets at the sides, an 
 occurrence which is always followed by a Babel of unintel- 
 ligible sounds. The country-women in their jackets and 
 short gowns go backwards and forwards with great loads on 
 their heads, sometimes nearly as high as themselves. The 
 market-women sit here from sunrise till sunset, day after 
 day, for years. They have little furnaces for cooking and 
 for warmth in winter, and when it rains they sit in large 
 wooden boxes. One or two policemen are generally on the 
 
128 VIEWS A-rooT. 
 
 ground in the morning to prevent their disputing about 
 places, which often gives rise to grotesque scenes. Perhaps 
 this kind of life in the open air is conducive to longevity ; 
 for certainly there is no country on earth that has as many 
 old women. Many of them resemble walking machines 
 made of leather ; and to judge from what I see in the streets 
 here, I should think they work until they die. 
 
 On the 21st of October a most interesting fete took place. 
 The magnificent monument of Goethe, modelled by the 
 sculptor Schwanthaler, at Munich, and cast in bronze, was 
 unveiled. It arrived a few days before, and was received 
 with much ceremony and erected in the destined spot, an 
 open square in the western part of the city, planted with 
 acacia trees. I went there at ten o'clock, and found the 
 square already full of people. Seats had been erected 
 around the monument for ladies, the singers and musicians. 
 A company of soldiers was stationed to keep a vacant space 
 for the procession, which at length arrived with music and 
 banners, and entered the enclosure. A song for the occasion 
 was sung by the choir with such perfect harmony and unity, 
 that it seemed like some glorious instrument touched by a 
 single hand. Then a poetical address was delivered, after 
 which four young men took their stand at the corners of the 
 monument ; the drums and trumpets gave a flourish, and the 
 mantle fell. The noble figure seemed to rise out of the 
 earth, and thus amid shoutings and the triumphal peal of 
 the band, the form of Goethe greeted the city of his birth. 
 He is represented as leaning on the trunk of a tree, holding 
 in his right hand a roll of parchment, and in his left a wreath. 
 The pedestal, which is also of bronze, contains bas-reliefs^ 
 
THE STREETS OF FRANKFORT. 129 
 
 representing scenes from Faust, Wilhelm Meister and 
 Egmont. In the evening Goethe's house, in an adjoining 
 street, was illuminated by arches of lamps between the 
 windows, and hung with wreaths of flowers. Four pillars 
 of colored lamps lighted the statue. At nine o'clock the 
 choir of singers came again in a procession, with colored 
 lanterns, and after singing two or three songs, the statue was 
 exhibited in the red glare of the Bengal light. The trees 
 and houses around the square were covered with the 
 glow, which streamed in broad sheets up against the dark 
 skj. 
 
 Within the walls the greater part of Frankfort is built in 
 the old German style — the houses six or seven stories high, 
 and every story projecting out over the other, so that those 
 living in the attics can nearly shake hands out of the win- 
 dows. At the corners one sometimes sees grotesque figures, 
 bearing the projecting upper stories on their shoulders and 
 making horrible faces at the weight. "When I state that in 
 all these narrow streets which constitute the greater part of 
 the city, there are no sidewalks, while the windows of the 
 lower stories have iron gratings extending a foot or so into 
 the street, which is only wide enough for one cart to pass 
 along, you can have some idea of the facility of walking 
 through them, to say nothing of the piles of wood, and 
 market-women with baskets of vegetables which one is con- 
 tinually stumbling over. 
 
 As I walked across the Main, and looked down at the 
 
 swift stream on its way from the distant Thiiringian forest 
 
 to join the Rhine, I thought of the time when Schiller stood 
 
 there in the days of his early struggles, an exile from his 
 
 6* 
 
180 VIEWS A-rOOT. 
 
 native land, and looking over the bridge, said in the loneli- 
 ness of his heart, " That water flows not so deep as my 
 sufferings ! " In the middle, on an iron ornament, stands 
 the golden cock at which Goethe used to marvel when a 
 boy. Perhaps you have not heard the legend connected 
 with this. The bridge was built several hundred years ago, 
 with such strength and solidity that it will stand many 
 hundred yet. The architect had contracted to build it 
 within a certain time, but as it drew near, without any 
 prospect of fulfilment, the devil appeared to him and 
 promised to finish it, on condition of having the first soul 
 that passed over it. This was agreed upon, and the devil 
 performed his part of the bargain. The artist, however, on 
 the day appointed, drove a cock across before he suffered 
 any one to pass over it. His majesty stationed himself 
 under the middle arch of the bridge, awaiting his prey ; 
 but enraged at the cheat, he tore the unfortunate fowl in 
 pieces, and broke two holes in the arch, saying they should 
 never be built up again. The golden cock was erected on 
 the bridge as a token of the event, but the devil has perhaps 
 lost some of his power in these latter days, for the holes 
 were filled up about thirty years ago. 
 
 From the hills on the Darmstadt road, I had a view of the 
 country around — the fields were white and bare, and the 
 dark Taunus, with the broad patches of snow on his sides, 
 looked grim and shadowy through the dim atmosphere. It 
 was like the landscape of a dream — dark, strange, and 
 silent. The whole of last month we saw the sun but two or 
 three days, the sky being almost continually covered with 
 a gloomy fog. England and Germany seem to have ex- 
 
BAR0J3 ROTHSCHILD. 131 
 
 changed climates this year, for in the former country we 
 had delightfully clear weather. 
 
 I have seen the banker Rothschild — Anselmo, the most 
 celebrated of the brothers — several times driving about the 
 city. He is a little, bald-headed man, with marked Jewish 
 features, and is said not to deceive his looks. At any rate, 
 his reputation is none of the best, either with Jews or Chris- 
 tians. A caricature was published some time ago, in which 
 he is represented as giving a beggar woman by the way- 
 side a kreutzer — the smallest German coin. She is made to 
 exclaim, " God reward you a thousand fold ! " He imme- 
 diately replies, after reckoning up in his head, *' How much 
 have I then ? — sixteen florins and forty kreutzers ! " 
 
 One evening, after sunset, we took a stroll around the 
 promenades. The swans were still floating on the little 
 lake, and the American poplar beside it, was in its full 
 autumn livery. As we m.ade the circuit of the walks, guns 
 were firing far and near, celebrating the opening of the vin- 
 tage the next day, and rockets went glittering and sparkling 
 up into the dark air. Notwithstanding the late hour and 
 lowering sky, the walks were full of people, and we strolled 
 about with them until it grew quite dark, watching the fire- 
 works which arose from the gardens around. The next day 
 we went into the Frankfort wood. A party of six Ameri- 
 cans (all who are now in Frankfort), we walked over the 
 Main and through the dirty suburbs of Sachsenhausen, 
 where we met with many peasants laden with the first day's 
 vintage, and crowds of people coming down from the vine- 
 yards. As we ascended the hill, the sound of muskets was 
 heard in every direction, and from many vineyards arose 
 
132 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 tlie smoke of fires, wliere groups of merry children were col- 
 lecting and burning the rubbish. V»"e became lost among 
 the winding paths of the pine forest, so that by the time we 
 came out upon the eminence overlooking the valley of the 
 Main, it was quite dark. From every side, far and near, rock- 
 ets of all sizes and colors darted high up into the sky. We 
 stopped under a garden wall, by which a laughing company 
 were assembled in the smoke and red blaze, and watched seve- 
 ral comets go hissing and glancing far above us. The crack- 
 ing of ammunition still continued, and when we came again 
 upon the bridge, the city opposite was lighted as if illumin- 
 ated. The full moon had just risen, softening and mel- 
 lowing the beautiful scene, while beyond, over the towers 
 of Frankfort, rose and fell the meteors that heralded the 
 vintage. 
 
 Since I have been in Frankfort, an event has occurred, 
 which shows very distinctly the principles at work in Ger- 
 many, and gives us some foreboding of the future. Ferdi- 
 nand Freiligrath, one of the most popular living poets, lias 
 within a few weeks published a volume of poems entitled 
 " My Confessions of Faith, or Poems for the Times." It 
 contains some thrilling appeals to the free spirit of the Ger- 
 man people, setting forth the injustice under which they 
 labor, in simple but powerful language, and with the most 
 forcible illustrations, adapted to the comprehension of every 
 one. Viewed as a work of genius alone, it is strikingly 
 powerful and original ; but when we consider the effect it is 
 producing among the people — the strength it will add to the 
 rising tide of opposition to every form of tyranny, it has a 
 still higher interest. Freiligrath had, three or four years 
 
THE POET FREILlGrRATH. 133 
 
 before, received a pension of three hundred thalers from the 
 King of Prussia, soon after his accession to the throne : he 
 ceased to draw this about a year ago, stating in the preface 
 to his volume that it was accepted in the belief that the 
 King would adhere to his promise of giving the people a 
 new Constitution, but that now, since time has proved there 
 is no dependence to be placed on the King's word, he must 
 speak for his people and for his land. 
 
 The book has not only been prohibited, but Freiligrath 
 has exiled himself voluntarily, to escape imprisonment. He 
 is now in Paris, where the poets Heine and Herwegh, both 
 banished for the same reason, are living. The free spirit 
 which characterizes these men, who come from among the 
 people, shows plainly the tendency of the times ; and it is 
 only the great strength with which tyranny here has envi- 
 roned itself, combmed with the proverbial apathy of the 
 Germans, which has prevented a change ere this. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A GLIMPSE OF STUDENT LIFE, 
 
 A "Walk to Heidelberg— Winter Journey — A Commers— The Eed Fisherman — ^Th« 
 
 Hall of Assembly — The Students — Songs and Speeches — The Ceremony of the 
 Zandsfather — G-ervinus and Schlosser — A Duel at Neuenheim— Its Eesult— Charac- 
 ter of the Students. 
 
 Receiving a letter from my cousin one bright December 
 morning, the idea of visiting him struck me, and so, within 
 
 an hour, B and I were on our way to Heidelberg. It 
 
 was delightful weather ; the air was mild as the early days 
 of spring, the pine forests around wore a softer green, and 
 though the sun was but a hand's breadth high, even at noon, 
 it was quite warm on the open road. We stopped for the 
 night at Bensheim ; and the next morning was as dark as a 
 cloudy day in the north can be, wearing a heavy gloom I 
 never saw elsewhere. The wind blew the snow down from 
 the summits upon us, but beiug warm from walking, we did 
 not heed it. The mountains looked higher than in summer, 
 and the old castles more grim and frowning. From the hard 
 roads and freezing wind, my feet became very sore, and 
 
A COMMERS. 135 
 
 after limping along in excruciating pain for a league or two, 
 I poured some brandy into my boots, which deadened the 
 wounds so much, that I was enabled to go on in a kind of 
 trot, which I kept up, only stopping ten minutes to dinner, 
 until we reached Heidelberg. But I have not yet recovered 
 from the lameness which followed this performance. 
 
 The same evening there was to be a general commers, or 
 meeting of the societies among the students, and I determin- 
 ed not to omit witnessing one of the most interesting and 
 characteristic features of student-life. ' So, borrowing a cap 
 and coat, I looked the student well enough to pass for one 
 of them, although the former article was somewhat of the 
 Philister form. Baader, a young poet of some note, and 
 president of the "Palatia" Society, having promised to take 
 us to the Commers, we met at eight o'clock at an inn fre- 
 quented by the students, and went to the rendezvous, near 
 the Markt Platz. 
 
 A confused sound of voices came from the inn, as we 
 drew near, and groups of students were standing around the 
 door. In the entrance hall we saw the Hed Fisherman, one 
 of the most conspicuous characters about the University, 
 He is a small, stout man, with bare neck and breast, red 
 hair, whence his name, and a strange mixture of roughness 
 and benevolence in his countenance. He has saved many 
 persons at the risk of his own life, from drowning in the 
 Neckar, and on that account is leniently dealt with by the 
 faculty whenever he is arrested for assisting the students in 
 any of their unlawful proceedings. Entering the room I 
 could scarcely see at first, on account of the smoke that 
 ascended from a hundred pipes. All was noise and confn- 
 
136 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 sion. Near the door sat some half dozen musicians, who 
 were getting their instruments ready for action, and the 
 long room was filled with tables, all of which seemed to be 
 full, yet the students were still pressing in. The tables were 
 covered with great stone jugs and long beer glasses ; the 
 students were talking and shouting and drinking. One who 
 appeared to have the arrangement of the meeting, found 
 seats for us together, and having made a slight acquaintance 
 with those sitting next us, we felt more at liberty to witness 
 their proceedings. They were all talking in, a sociable, 
 friendly way, and I saw no one who appeared to be intoxi- 
 cated. The beer was a weak mixture, which I should think 
 would make one fall over from its weight, rather than its 
 intoxicating properties. Those sitting near me drank but 
 little, and that principally to make or return compliments. 
 One or two at the other end of the table were more bois- 
 terous, and more than one glass was overturned upon their 
 legs. Leaves containing the songs for the evening lay at 
 each seat, and at the head, where the President sat, were 
 two swords crossed, with which he occasionally struck upon 
 the table to preserve order. Our President was a fine, 
 romantic-looking young man, dressed in the old German 
 costume, — black beaver and plume, and velvet doublet with 
 slashed sleeves. I never saw in any company of young 
 men, so many handsome, manly countenances. If their 
 faces were any index of their characters, there were many 
 noble, free souls among them. Nearly opposite to me sat a 
 young poet, whose dark eyes flashed with feeling as he 
 spoke to those near him. After some time passed in talking 
 and drinking together, varied by an occasional air from the 
 
SONGS AND SPEECHES. 13Y 
 
 musicians, the President beat order with the sword, and the 
 whole company joined in one of their glorious songs, to a 
 melody at the same time joyous and solemn. Swelled by 
 so many manly voices it arose like a hymn of triumph 
 — all other sounds were stilled. Three times during the 
 singing all rose to their feet, clashed their glasses together 
 around the tables and drank to their Fatherland, a health 
 and blessing to the patriot, and honor to those who struggle 
 in the cause of freedom. 
 
 After this song, the same order was continued as before, 
 except that students from the different societies made short 
 speeches, accompanied by some toast or sentiment. One 
 spoke of Germany — predicting that all her dissensions would 
 be overcome, and she would arise at last, like a phoenix, 
 among the nations of Europe ; and at the close gave 
 " strong, united, regenerated Germany ! " Instantly all 
 sprang to their feet, and clashing the glasses together, gave 
 a thundering ''lioch ! " This enthusiasm for their country 
 is one of the strongest characteristics of the German stu- 
 dents ; they have ever been first in the field for her freedom, 
 and on them mainly depends her future redemption. 
 
 Cloths were passed around, the tables wiped off, and 
 preparations made to sing the " Landsfathery''^ or consecra- 
 tion song. This is one of the most important and solemn 
 of their ceremonies, since by performing it the new students 
 are made burschen, and the bands of brotherhood continually 
 kept fresh and sacred. All became still a moment, then 
 commenced the lofty song : 
 
 " Silent bending, each one lending 
 To the solemn tones his ear. 
 
138 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 Hark, the song of songs is sounding — 
 Back from joyful choir resounding. 
 Hear it, German brothers, hear I 
 
 " German proudly, raise it loudly, 
 
 Singing of your fatherland — 
 Fatherland ! thou land of story, 
 To the altars of thy glory 
 
 Consecrate us, sword in hand I 
 
 ** Take the beaker, pleasure seeker, 
 
 With thy country's drink brimmed o'er I 
 In thy left the sword is blinking, 
 Pierce it through the cap, while drinking 
 To thy Fatherland once more ! " 
 
 With tlie first line of the last stanza, the Presidents 
 sitting at the head of the tahle, take their glasses in their 
 right hands, and at the third line, the sword in their left, 
 at the end striking their glasses together and drinking. 
 
 " In left hand gleaming, thou art beaming, 
 
 Sword from all dishonor free ! 
 Thus I pierce the cap, while swearing. 
 It in honor ever wearing, 
 
 I a valiant Bursch will be ! " 
 
 They clash their swords together till the third line is 
 sung, when each takes his cap, and piercing the point of 
 the sword through the crown, draws it down to the guard. 
 Leaving their caps on the swords, the Presidents stand 
 behind the two next students, who go through the same 
 ceremony, receiving the swords at the appropriate time, and 
 giving them back loaded with their caps also. This cere- 
 
CEREMONY OF THE LANDSFATHER. 139 
 
 mony is going on at every table at the same time. These 
 two stanzas are repeated for every pair of students, till all 
 have performed it, and the Presidents have arrived at the 
 bottom of the table, with their swords strung full of caps. 
 Here they exchange swords, while all sing : 
 
 " Come, thou bright sword, now made holy, 
 
 Of free men the weapon free ; 
 Bring it solemnly and slowly. 
 
 Heavy with pierced caps, to me! 
 From its burden now divest it ; 
 
 Brothers, be ye covered all, 
 
 And till our next festival, 
 Hallowed and unspotted rest it I 
 
 " Up, ye feast companions ! ever 
 
 Honor ye our holy band ! 
 And with heart and soul endeavor 
 
 E'er as high-souled men to stand I 
 Up to feast, ye men united ! 
 
 Worthy be your fathers' fame, 
 
 And the sword may no one claim. 
 Who to honor is not pHghted !" 
 
 Then each President, taking a cap off his sword, reaches 
 it to the student opposite, and they cross their swords, the 
 ends resting on the two students' heads, while they sing the 
 next stanza : 
 
 " So take it back ; thy head I now will cover 
 
 And stretch the bright sword over. 
 Live also then this Bursehe, hoch 1 
 
 Wherever we may meet him, 
 
 Will we, as Brother, greet him — 
 Live also this, our Brother, hoch 1 " 
 
140 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 This ceremony was repeated till all the caps were given 
 back, and they then concluded with the following : 
 
 " Rest, the Burschen-feast is over, 
 
 Hallowed sword, and thou art free I 
 Each one strive a valiant lover 
 ' Of his fatherland to be ! 
 
 Hail to him, who, glory-haunted. 
 Follows still his fathers bold ; 
 And the sword may no one hold 
 But the noble and undaunted I " 
 
 The Landsfather being over, the students were less order- 
 ly ; the smoking and drinking began again, and we left, as it 
 was already eleven o'clock, glad to breathe the pure cold air. 
 
 In the University I heard Gervinus, who was formerly 
 professor in Gottingen, but was obliged to leave on account 
 of his liberal principles. He is much liked by the students, 
 and his lectures are very well attended. They had this 
 winter a torchlight procession in honor of him. He is a 
 stout, round-faced man, speaks very fast, and makes them 
 laugh continually with his witty remarks. In the room I 
 saw a son of Riickert, the poet, with a face strikingly like 
 his father's. The next evening I went to hear Schlosser, 
 the great historian. Among his pupils are the two princes 
 of Baden, who are now at the University. He came hur- 
 riedly in, threw down his portfolio and began instantly to 
 speak. He is an old, gray -headed man, but still active and 
 full of energy. The Germans find him exceedingly difficult 
 to understand, as the construction of his sentences is said to 
 be English rather than German ; for this reason, perhaps, 
 
A DUEL. 141 
 
 I understood liim quite easily. He lectures on tlie Frencli 
 Revolution, but is engaged in writing a Universal History, 
 the first numbers of which are published. 
 
 Two or three days after, we heard that a duel was to take 
 place at Neuenheim, on the opposite side of the Neckar, 
 where the students have a house hired for that purpose. 
 In order to witness the spectacle, we started immediately 
 with two or three students. Along the road were stationed 
 old women, at intervals, as guards, to give notice of the ap- 
 proach of the police, and from these we learned that one duel 
 had already been fought, and they were preparing for the 
 other. The Red Fisherman was busy in an outer room grind- 
 ing the swords, which are made as sharp as razors. In the 
 large room some forty or fifty students were walking about, 
 while the parties were preparing. This was done by taking 
 off the coat and vest, and binding on a great thick leather gar- 
 ment, which reached from the breast to the knees, completely 
 protecting the body. They then put on a leather glove reach- 
 ing nearly to the shoulder, tied a thick cravat around the 
 throat, and donned a cap with a large vizor. This done, they 
 were walked about the room a shoft time, the seconds holding 
 out their arms to strengthen them ; their faces all this time 
 betrayed considerable anxiety. 
 
 All being ready, the seconds took their stations imme- 
 diately behind them, each armed with a sword, and gave 
 the words : " ready — hinci your weapons — loose .'" They 
 instantly sprang at each other, exchanged two or three 
 blows, when the seconds cried "halt!" and struck their 
 swords up. Twenty-four rounds of this kind ended the duel, 
 without either being hurt, though the cap of one of them was 
 
142 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 cut througli and his forehead grazed. All their duels do not 
 end so fortunately, however, as the frightful scars on the 
 faces of many of those present testified. It is a gratification 
 to know that but a small portion of the students keep up this 
 barbarous custom. In Heidelberg, four societies, comprising 
 more than one half the students, have been formed to discon- 
 tinue it. A strong desire for such a reform seems to prevail, 
 and the custom will probably be totally discontinued in a 
 short time. 
 
 This view of the student -life was very interesting to me ; 
 it appeared in a much better light than I had been accus- 
 tomed to regard it. Their peculiar customs, except duelling 
 and excessive drinking, of course, may be the better tole- 
 rated when we consider the stand which they have taken 
 for the liberty of Germany. It is principally through them 
 that a free spirit is kept alive ; they have ever been foremost 
 to rise up for their Fatherland, and bravest in its defence. 
 And though many of their customs have so often been held 
 up to ridicule, among no other class cau one find warmer, 
 truer, or braver hearts. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 CHRISTMAS AND NEW-YEAR IN GERMANY. 
 
 Expenses of the First Six Months Abroad— Prospects for the Future— Christmas In 
 Germany— The Christmas Booths — Visit of St. Nicholas— Preparations for Christ- 
 mas-T-Excitement among the Children — Christmas Eve — The Christmas Tree — 
 Poetry of the Festival — Welcome to the New Year— Scene in the Streets. 
 
 Frankfort, January 2, 1845. 
 I have lately been computing how much my travels have 
 cost me up to the present time, and how long I can remain 
 abroad to continue the pilgrimage, with my present expecta- 
 tions. The result has been most encouraging to my plan. 
 Before leaving home, I wrote to several gentlemen who had 
 visited Europe, asking the probable expense of travel and 
 residence abroad. They sent different accounts ; one saii^! 
 must calculate to spend at least $1500 a year ; another 
 suggested $1000, and the most moderate of all, said that it 
 was impossible to live in Europe a year on less than $500. 
 Now, six months have elapsed since I left home — six 
 months of greater pleasure and profit than any two years 
 of my former life — and my expenses, in full, amount to 
 $130 ! The sum with which I left home will soon be 
 
144 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 exhausted, it is true, but as the letters which I have sent 
 to the Gazette and Post have proved acceptable, I trust to 
 receive a remittance shortly, in-j;<5ontinuance of the engage- 
 ment. I find that it would be almost useless for me to 
 endeavor to obtain employment as a printer, as the wages 
 are comparatively small, and the trade is overstocked with 
 workmen. Besides, after a tough grapple, I ajn just begin- 
 ning to feel at home in German literature, and am so fasci- 
 nated with the wonderful field it opens to me, that I would 
 rather undergo considerable privation than give up my 
 regular hours of daily study. 
 
 We have lately witnessed the most beautiful and interest- 
 ing of all German festivals — Christmas — which is celebrated 
 in a style truly characteristic of the people. About the 
 commencement of December, the Christmarkt, or fair, was 
 opened in the Romerberg, and has continued to the present 
 time. The booths, decorated with green boughs, were filled 
 with toys of various kinds, among which, during the first 
 days, the figure of St. Nicholas was conspicuous. There 
 were bunches of wax candles to illuminate the Christmas 
 tree, gingerbread with printed mottoes in poetry, beautiful 
 little earthenware, basket-work, and a wilderness of play- 
 things. The fifth of December, being Nicholas evening, 
 the booths were lighted up, and the square was filled with 
 boys, running from one stand to another, all shouting and 
 talking together in the most joyous confusion. Nurses were 
 going around, carrying the smaller children in their arms, 
 and parents bought presents decorated with sprigs of pine 
 and carried them away. Some of the shops exhibited very 
 beautiful toys, as for instance, a whole grocery store in 
 
VISIT OF ST. NICHOLAS. 145 
 
 miniature, with barrels, boxes, and drawers, filled witb 
 sweetmeats, a kitchen with a stove and all suitable utensils, 
 which could readilj be used, and sets of dishes of the most 
 diminutive patterns. 
 
 Many of the tables had bundles of rods with gilded bands, 
 which were to be used that evening by the persons who 
 represented St. Nicholas. In the family with whom we 
 reside, one of our German friends dressed himself very 
 grotesquely, with a mask, fur robe, and long tapering cap. He 
 came in with a bunch of rods, a sack, and a broom for a 
 sceptre. After we all had received our share of the beating, 
 he threw the contents of his bag on the table, and while we 
 were scrambling for the nuts and apples, gave us many smart 
 raps over the fingers. In many families the c^nldren are made 
 to say, " I thank you, Herr Nicholas," and the rods are hung 
 up in the room until Christmas, to keep them in good 
 behavior. This was only a forerunner of the Christ-kind- 
 chen's coming. The Nicolaus is the punishing spirit, the 
 Christ-kindchen the rewarding one. 
 
 When this time was over, we all began preparing secretly 
 our presents for Christmas. Every day there were consulta- 
 tions about the things which should be obtained. It was so 
 arranged that all should interchange presents, but nobody 
 must know beforehand what he would receive. What 
 pleasure there was In all these secret purchases and prepara- 
 tions ! Scarcely anything was thought or spoken of but 
 Christmas, and every day the consultations became more 
 numerous and secret. The trees were bought some time be- 
 forehand, but as we Americans were to witness the festival 
 for the first time, we were not allowed to see them prepared, 
 7 
 
i^t> VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 in order that the effect might be as great as possible. The 
 market in the Romerberg Square grew constantly larger and 
 more brilliant. Every night it was illuminated with lamps 
 and thronged with people. Quite a forest sprang up in the 
 street before our door. The old stone house opposite, with 
 the traces of so many centuries on its dark face, seemed to 
 stand in the midst of a garden. It was a pleasure to go out 
 every evening and see the children rushing to and fro, 
 shouting and selecting toys from the booths, and talking all 
 the time of the Christmas that was so near. The poor 
 people went by with their little presents hid under their 
 cloaks, lest their children might see them ; every heart was 
 glad and every countenance wore a smile of secret pleasure. 
 Finally, the day before Christmas arrived. The streets 
 were so full I could scarce make my way through, and the 
 sale of trees went on more rapidly than ever. Th§se were 
 usually branches of pine or fir, set upright in a little minia- 
 ture garden of moss. When the lamps were lighted at night, 
 our street had the appearance of an illuminated garden. 
 We were prohibited from entering the rooms up stairs in 
 which the grand ceremony was to take place, being obliged 
 to take our seats in those arranged for the guests, and wait 
 with impatience the hour when Christ-kindchen should call. 
 Several relatives of the family came, and what was more 
 agreeable, they brought with them five or six children. I 
 was anxious to see how they would view the ceremony. 
 Finally, in the midst of an interesting conversation, we heard 
 the bell ringing at the head of the stairs. We all started up, 
 and made for the door. I ran up the steps with the children 
 at my heels, and at the top met a blaze of dazzling light, 
 
POETRY OF THE FESTIVAL. 147 
 
 coming from the open door. In each room stood a great 
 table, on which the presents were arranged, amid flowers 
 and wreaths. From the centre rose the beautiful Christmas 
 tree, covered with wax tapers to the very top, which made 
 it nearly as light as day, while every bough was hung with 
 sweetmeats and gilded nuts. The children ran shouting 
 around the table, hunting their presents, while the older per- 
 sons had theirs pointed out to them. I had a little library 
 of German authors as my share ; and many of the others 
 received quite valuable gifts. 
 
 But how beautiful was the heartfelt joy that shone on 
 every countenance ! As each one discovered his presents 
 he embraced the givers, and it was a scene of unmingled joy. 
 It is a glorious feast, this Christmas time ! What a chorus 
 from happy hearts went up on that evening to Heaven ! 
 Full of poetry and feeling and glad associations, it is here 
 anticipated with delight, and leaves a pleasant memory be- 
 hind it. We may laugh at such simple festivals at home, 
 and prefer to shake ourselves loose from every shackle that 
 bears the rust of the Past, but we would certainly be 
 happier if some of these beautiful old customs were better 
 honored. They renew the bond of feeling between families 
 and friends, and strengthen their kindly sympathy ; even 
 lifelong associates require occasions of this kind to freshen 
 the tie that binds them together. 
 
 New Year's Eve is also favored with a peculiar celebra- 
 tion in Germany. Every body remains up and makes him- 
 self merry until midnight. The Christmas trees are again 
 lighted, and while the tapers are burning out the family play 
 for articles which they have purchased and hung on the 
 
148 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 bougts. It Is so arranged that each one shall win as much 
 as he gives, and the change of articles creates much amuse- 
 ment. One of the ladies rejoiced in the possession of a red 
 silk handkerchief and a cake of soap, while a cup and saucer 
 and a pair of scissors fell to my lot. As midnight drew near, 
 the noise became louder in the streets, and companies of 
 people, some of them singing in chorus, passed by on their 
 way to the Zeil. Finally, three-quarters struck, the windows 
 were opened, and every one waited anxiously for the clock 
 to strike. At the first sound, such a cry arose as one may 
 imagine, when thirty or forty thousand persons all set their 
 lungs going at once. Every body in the house, in the street, 
 over the whole city, shouted, " Prossi Ned Jahr /" In 
 families, all the members embrace each other, with Avishes of 
 happiness for the new year. Then the windows are thrown 
 open, and they cry to their neighbors or those passing by. 
 After we had exchanged congratulations, three of us set 
 out for the Zeil. The streets were full of people, shouting 
 to one another and to those standing at the open windows. 
 We failed not to cry " Frosst Neu Jalir r wherever we saw 
 a damsel at the window, and the words came back to us more 
 musically than we sent them. Along the Zeil the spectacle 
 was most singular. The great wide street was filled with 
 companies of men, marching up and down, while from the 
 mass rang up one deafening, unending shout, that seemed to 
 pierce the black sky above. The whole scene looked 
 stranger and wilder in the flickering light of the swinging 
 lamps, and I could not help thinking it must resemble a night, 
 in Paris during the French Revolution. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 INCIDENTS OP A WINTER IN FRANKJORT. 
 
 Sports on the Ice— Lessing's Picture of Huss— The Eschernheim Tower — Severity 
 of the Winter — Sufferings of Men and Beasts — My Winter Life— Matteus and the 
 Stove— Hopes of Spring— The Fair— Picturesque Crowds — A Vender of Blacking 
 — Rise of the Main— The City Inundated— Sachsenhausen under Water — A Day of 
 Sunshine — Faces In the Streets — German Beauty — The Flood Increases— Devasta- 
 tion— The Elver Falls — An Explosion— German Fire-Engines and Firemen. 
 
 After New Year, the Main, just above the city, and the 
 lakes in the promenades, were frozen over. The ice was 
 tried by the police, and having been found of sufficient 
 thickness, to the great joy of the schoolboys, permission was 
 given to skate. The lakes were soon covered with merry 
 skaters, and every afternoon the banks were crowded with 
 spectators. It was a lively sight to see two or three hun- 
 dred persons darting about, turning and crossing like a flock 
 of crows, while, by means of arm-chairs mounted on runners, 
 the ladies were enabled to join in the sport, and whirl 
 around among them. Some of the broad meadows near the 
 city, which were covered with ice, were the resort of the 
 
150 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 schools. I went there often in my walks, and always found 
 two or three schools, with the teachers, all skating together, 
 and playing their winter games on the ice. I have often 
 seen them on the meadows along the Main, and the teachers 
 were generally quite as boisterous as the scholars in their 
 sports. 
 
 In the Art Institute I saw the picture of "Huss before 
 the Council of Constance," by the painter Lessing. It con- 
 tains upwards of twenty figures. The artist has shown the 
 greatest skill in the expression and grouping of these. Bish- 
 ops and Cardinals in their splendid robes are seated around 
 a table, covered with parchment folios, and before them 
 stands Huss alone. His face is pale and thin with long im- 
 prisonment ; he has lain one hand on his breast, while with 
 the other he grasps one of the volumes on the table ; there 
 is an air of majesty, of heavenly serenity, on his lofty fore- 
 head and in his calm eye. One feels instinctively that he 
 has truth on his side. There can be no deception, no false- 
 hood in those noble features. The three Italian cardinals 
 before him appear to be full of passionate rage ; the bishop 
 in front, who holds the imperial pass given to Huss, looks 
 on with an expression of scorn, and the priests around have 
 an air of mingled curiosity and hatred. There is one, how- 
 ever, in whose mild features and tearful eye is expressed 
 sympathy and pity for the prisoner. It is said this picture 
 has had a great effect upon Catholics who have seen it, in 
 softening the bigotry with which they regarded the early 
 reformers ; and if so, it is a triumphant proof how much 
 Art can effect in the cause of truth and humanity. 
 
 The Eschernheim Tower, at the entrance of one of the 
 
THE ESCHERNHEIM TOWER. 151 
 
 city gates, is universally admired by strangers, on account 
 of its picturesque appearance, overgrown with ivy and ter- 
 minated by the little pointed turrets, which one sees so 
 often in Germany, on buildings three or four centuries old. 
 There are five other watch-towers of similar form, which 
 stand on different sides of the city, at the distance of a mile 
 or two, and generally upon an eminence overlooking the 
 country. They were erected several centuries ago, to dis- 
 cern from afar the approach of an enemy, and protect the 
 caravans of merchants, which at that time travelled from 
 city to city, from the attacks of robbers. The Eschern- 
 heim Tower is interesting from another circumstance, 
 which, whether true or not, is universally believed. When 
 Frankfort was under the sway of a prince, a Swiss hunter, 
 for some civil offence, was condemned to die. He begged 
 his life from the prince, who granted it only on condition that 
 he should fire the figure 9 with his rifle through the vane 
 of this tower. He agreed, and did it ; and at the present 
 time, one can distinguish a rude 9 on the vane, as if cut 
 with bullets, while two or three marks at the side appear to 
 be from stray shots. 
 
 The promise of spring, which lately visited us, was not 
 destined for fulfilment. Shortly afterwards it grew cold 
 again, with a succession of snows and sharp northerly winds. 
 Such weather at the commencement of spring is not uncom- 
 mon in America ; but here they say there has not been such 
 a winter known for a hundred and fifty years. In the north 
 of Prussia many persons have been starved to death on ac- 
 count of provisions becoming scarce. • Among the Hartz 
 also, the suffering is very great. "VVe saw something of the 
 
152 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 misery even here. It was painful to walk through the 
 streets and see so many faces bearing plainly the marks of 
 want, so many pale, hollow-eyed creatures, with suffering 
 written on every feature. We were assailed with petitions 
 for help, which could not be relieved, though it pained and 
 saddened the heart to deny. The women, too, labor like 
 brutes, day after day. Many of them appear cheerful 
 and contented, and are, no doubt, tolerably happy, for the 
 Germans have all true, warm hearts, and are faithful to one 
 another, as far as poverty will permit ; but one cannot see 
 old, grey-headed women, carrying loads on their heads as 
 heavy as themselves, exposed to all kinds of weather and 
 working from morning till night, without pity and indig- 
 nation. 
 
 So unusually severe has been the weather, that the deer 
 and hares in the mountains near, came nearly starved, and 
 quite tamed by hunger, into the villages to hunt food. The 
 people fed them every day, and also carried grain into the 
 fields for the partridges and pheasants, which flew up to 
 them like domestic fowls. The poor ravens made me really 
 sad ; some lay dead in the fields and many came into the 
 city perfectly tame, flying along the Main with wings hardly 
 strong enough to bear up their skeleton bodies. The storks 
 came at the usual time, but went back again. I hope the 
 year's blessing has not departed with them, according to the 
 old German superstition. 
 
 I have passed the winter days in an almost unbroken 
 roiitine of study, relieved by a daily stroll through the city 
 and suburbs, with an occasional visit to the Opera, the Art 
 Institute, the Library and Museum, or a cheerful social even^ 
 
MY WINTER LIFE. 153 
 
 ing in the family of Herr S . Frankfort is now as fami- 
 liar to me as my own home, and I have so completely 
 adopted the German nature that' I have totally lost the con- 
 sciousness of being a foreigner. I begin to long for the 
 spring, in order to shoulder my knapsack once more, and 
 wander off to the thousand marvels of Europe which yet 
 remain unseen. A letter from home, received not long since, 
 brings me a welcome remittance of one hundred dollars, and 
 I can now look forward confidently to seeing the whole of 
 Germany as well as Switzerland. Of this sum, half was 
 advanced by Mr. Patterson, for a further batch of twelve 
 letters, and the other half by Mr. Graham, for some poems 
 which I forwarded to him. The former gentleman has also 
 agreed to continue his engagement for the remainder of my 
 stay in Europe. Thank God, all my hazards are now over ! 
 The experiment is successful ; and I only need to exercise 
 strict economy — perhaps endure a little privation — to accom- 
 plish all I have undertaken. 
 
 We have suffered somewhat from the cold this winter. 
 The room is heated by an immense earthenware stove, which 
 gives out little warmth until it has devoured much fuel, and 
 fuel is very expensive here. Besides, the draught is very 
 imperfect, and sometimes our fire will not burn at all. The 
 knecht (man-servant) of Herr S , a moon-faced, blue- 
 eyed Suabian, named Matteus, exhausts much of his energy 
 upon our stove, and nothing can exceed his grin of triumph 
 when, after an hour's labor, he pops his flaming face in at 
 the door, points to the huge mass of earthenware, and 
 exclaims r '-Da ist's ! da ist's /" (There it is !) Matteus 
 sometimes hears Herr S 's bony old schimmel in his 
 
154 ^^ET^s a-foot. 
 
 antiquated carriage, and drives tis four Americans— Mr. "Wil- 
 lis, his brotber-in-law, Mr. Dennet, B and myself — around 
 
 the suburbs. Xothiug can 'exceed his gravity and dignity 
 on such occasions. There is no other knecht in Frankfort 
 who can drive four Americans through the streets, and Mat- 
 teus feels all the responsibility of his position. TTe are also 
 great favorites with all the old market-women in our street, 
 who call me " the tall American," and Willis " the handsome 
 
 American," while Herr S 's house is known as "the 
 
 American Colony." 
 
 March 26. 
 
 We have hopes of Spring at last. Three days ago the 
 rain began, and has continued with little intermission until 
 now. The air is warm, the snow melts, and every thing 
 seems to announce that the long winter is breaking up. 
 The Main rises fast, and rushes by the city like an arrow, 
 whirling large masses of ice upon the banks. The hills 
 around are coming out from under the snow, and the lilac- 
 buds in the promenades begin to expand for the second time. 
 
 The Fair has now commenced in earnest, and it is a most 
 singular and interesting sight. The open squares are filled 
 with booths, leaving narrow streets between them, across 
 which canvas is spread. Every booth is open, and filled 
 with a dazzling display of wares of all kinds. Merchants 
 assemble from all parts of Europe. The Bohemians come 
 with their gorgeous crystal ware ; the Xurembergers with 
 their toys, quaint and fanciful as the old city itself; men 
 from the Thuringian forest, with minerals and canes, and 
 
PICTURESQUE CROWDS. 155 
 
 traders from Berlin, Yienna, Paris, and Switzerland, with 
 dry-goods and wares of all kinds. Near tlie Exchange are 
 two or three companies of Tyrolese, who attract much of my 
 attention. Their costume is exceedingly picturesque. The 
 men have all splendid manly figures, and honor and bravery 
 are written on their countenances. One of the girls is a 
 charming mountain maiden, and with her pointed, broad- 
 brimmed black hat, as romantic in appearance as one could 
 desire. The musicians have arrived, and we are entertained 
 the whole day long by wandering bands, some of which play 
 very finely. The best, which is also the favorite company, 
 is from Saxony, called " The Mountain Boys." They are 
 now playing in our street, and -while I write, one of the 
 beautiful airs of Norma comes up through the din of the 
 crowd. In fact, music is heard all over the city, and the 
 throngs that fill every street with their variety of faces and 
 dresses, somewhat relieve the monotony that was beginning 
 to make Frankfort tiresome. 
 
 We have an ever-varied and interesting scene from our 
 window. Besides the motley crowd of passers-by, there are 
 booths and tables stationed thick below. One man in par- 
 ticular is busily engaged in selling his store of blacking in the 
 auction style, in a manner that would do credit to a real 
 Down-easter. He has flaming certificates exhibited, and 
 prefaces his calls to buy with a high-sounding description of 
 its wonderful qualities. He has a bench in front, where he 
 tests it on the shoes of his customers, or if none of these are 
 disposed to try it, on his own, which shine like mirrors. So 
 he rattles on with amazing fluency in French, German, and 
 Italian, and this, with his black beard and moustache, and 
 
156 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 his polite, gracefuil manner, keeps a crowd of customers 
 around liim, so that the wonderful blacking goes off as fast 
 as he can supply it. 
 
 April 6. 
 
 Old Winter's gates are shut close behind us, and the sun 
 looks down with his summer countenance. The air, after 
 the long cold rain, is like that of Paradise. All things are 
 gay and bright, and every body is in motion. Spring com- 
 menced with yesterday in earnest, and lo ! before night the 
 roads were dry and fine as if there had been no rain for a 
 month ; and the gardeners dug and planted in ground which, 
 eight days before, was covered with snow ! 
 
 After having lived through the longest winter here, for 
 one hundred and fifty years, we were destined to witness the 
 greatest flood for sixty, and little lower than any within the 
 last three hundred years. On the 28th of March, the river 
 overflooded the high pier along the Main, and rising higher 
 and higher, began to come into the gates and alleys. Before 
 night the whole bank was covered, and the water intruded 
 into some of the booths in the Romerberg. When I went 
 there the next morning, it was a sorrowful sight. Persons 
 were inside the gate with boats ; so rapidly had it risen, 
 that many of the merchants had no time to move their wares, 
 and must suffer great damage. They were at work rescuing 
 what property could be seized in haste, and constructing 
 passages into the houses which were surrounded. No one 
 seemed to think of buying or selling, but only on the best 
 method of escaping the danger. Along the Main it was still 
 
THE CITY INUNDATED. 157 
 
 worse. From the water-gauge, it had risen seYenteen feet 
 above its usual level, and the arches of the bridge were filled 
 nearly to the top. At the Upper-Main gate, every thing 
 was flooded — houses, gardens, workshops, &c. ; the water 
 had even overrun the meadows above and attacked the city 
 from behind, so that a part of the beautiful promenades lay 
 deep under water. On the other side, we could see houses 
 standing in it up to the roof. It came up through the servers 
 into the middle of Frankfort ; a large body of men were 
 kept at work constructing slight bridges to walk on, and 
 transporting boats to places where they were needed. This 
 was all done at the expense of the city, and the greatest 
 readiness was everywhere manifested to render all possible 
 assistance. In the Fischergasse, I saw them taking provi- 
 ^sions to the people in boats ; one man even fastened a loaf 
 of bread to the end of a broomstick and reached it across the 
 narrow street from an upper story window, to the neighbor 
 opposite. News came that Haus.m, a village towards the 
 Taunus, about two miles distant, was quite under water, and 
 that the people clung to the roofs and cried for help ; but it 
 was fortunately false. About noon, cannon shots were 
 heard, and twenty boats were sent out from the city. 
 
 In the afternoon I ascended the tower of the Cathedral, 
 which commands a wide view of the valley, up and down. 
 Just above the city the plain resembled a small lake — be- 
 tween two and three miles wide. A row of new-built houses 
 stretched into it like a long promontory, and in the middle, 
 like an island, stood a country-seat with large out-buildings- 
 The river sent a long arm out below, that reached up through 
 the meadows behind the city, as if to clasp it all and bear it 
 
158 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 away together. A heavy storm was raging along the whole 
 extent of the Taunus ; but a rainbow stood in the eastern 
 sky. I thought of its promise, and hoped, for the sake of 
 the hundreds of poor people who were suffering by the 
 waters, that it might herald their fall. 
 
 "We afterwards went over to Sachseuhausen, which was, if 
 possible, in a still more unfortunate condition. The water 
 had penetrated the passages and sewers, and from these 
 leaped and rushed up into the streets, as out of a fountain. 
 The houses next to the Main, which were first filled, poured 
 torrents out of the doors and windows into the street 
 below. These people were nearly all poor, and could ill 
 afford the loss of time and damage of property. The stream 
 was filled with wood and boards, and even whole roofs, with 
 the tiles on, went floating down. The bridge was crowded 
 with people ; one saw everywhere mournful countenances, 
 and heard lamentations over the catastrophe. After sunset, 
 a great cloud, filling half the sky, hung above ; the reflec- 
 tion of its glowing crimson tint, joined to the brown hue of 
 the water, made the river seem like a current of fire. 
 
 What a difference a little sunshine makes i I could have 
 forgotten the season the next day, but for the bare trees and 
 swelling Main, as I threaded my way through the hundreds 
 of people who thronged its banks. It was that soft warmth 
 that comes with the first spring days, relaxing the body and 
 casting a dreamy hue over the mind. I leaned over the 
 bridge in the full enjoyment of it, and listening to the roar- 
 ing of the water under the arches, forgot every thing else for 
 a time. It was amusing to walk up and down the pier and 
 look at the countenances passing by, while the fancy was 
 
FACES IN THE STREET. 159 
 
 ever ready, weaving a tale for each. My favorite Tyrolese 
 were there, and I saw a Greek leaning over the stone balus- 
 trade, wearing the red cap and white frock, and with the 
 long dark hair and fiery eye of the Orient, I could not but 
 wonder, as he looked at the dim hills of the Odenwald, 
 along the eastern horizon, whether they called up in his 
 mind the purple isles of his native Archipelago. 
 
 The general character of a nation is plainly stamped on 
 the countenances of its people. One who notices the faces 
 in the streets, can soon distinguish, by the glance he gives 
 in passing, the Englishman or the Frenchman from the 
 German, and the Christian from the Jew. Not less striking 
 is the difference of expression between the Germans them- 
 selves ; and in places where all classes of people are drawn 
 , together, it is interesting to observe how accurately these 
 distinctions are drawn. The boys have generally handsome, 
 intelligent faces, and like all boys, they are full of life and 
 spirit, for they know nothing of the laws by which their 
 country is chained down, and would not care for them, if 
 they did. But with the exception of the students, who talk, 
 at least, of Liberty and Hight, the young men lose this spirit, 
 and at last settle down into the calm, cautious, apathetic citi- 
 zen. One distinguishes an Englishman or an American, also, 
 in this respect, very easily ; the former, moreover, by a cer- 
 tain cold stateliness and reserve. There is something, how- 
 ever, about a Jew, whether English or German, which dis- 
 tinguishes him from all others. However different their 
 faces, there is a family character which runs through the 
 whole of them. It lies principally in their high cheek- 
 bones, prominent nose, and thin, compressed lips ; which, es- 
 
160 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 peclally in elderly men, gives a peculiar miserly expression 
 that is unmistakable. 
 
 I regret to say, one looks almost in vain, in Germany, for 
 a handsome female countenance. Here and there, perhaps, 
 is a woman with regular features, but that intellectual ex- 
 pression, which gives such a charm to the most common face, 
 is wanting. I have seen more beautiful women in one night, 
 in a public assembly in America, than during the seven 
 months I have been on the Continent. Some of the young 
 Jewesses, in Frankfort, are considered handsome, but their 
 features soon become too strongly marked. In a public 
 walk the number of positively ugly faces is really asto* 
 nishing. 
 
 About ten o'clock that night, I heard a noise of persons 
 running in the street, and going to the E-omerberg, found the 
 water had risen, all at once, much higher, and was still rapid- 
 ly increasing. People were setting up torches and length- 
 ening the rafts, which had been already formed. The lower 
 part of the city was a real Venice — the streets were full of 
 boats, and people could even row about in their own houses ; 
 though it was not quite so bad as the flood in Georgia, where 
 they went up stairs to bed in boats ! Persons were calling 
 in all directions — " The water ! the water ! it rises continu- 
 ally !" The river rushed through the arches of the bridge, 
 foaming and dashing with a noise like thunder, and the red 
 light of the torches along the shore cast a flickering glare on 
 the troubled waves. It was then twenty-one feet above its 
 usual level. Men were busy all around, carrying boats and 
 ladders to the places most threatened, or emptying cellars 
 into which it was penetrating. The sudden swelling was 
 
AN EXPLOSION. 161 
 
 occasioned by the coming down of the floods from the moun- 
 tains of Spessart. 
 
 Part of the upper quay cracked next morning and 
 threatened to fall in, and one of the projecting piers of the 
 bridge sank away three or four inches from the main body. 
 In Sachsenhausen the desolation occasioned by the flood is 
 absolutely frightful ; several houses have fallen into total 
 ruin. All business was stopped for the day ; the Exchange 
 was even shut up. As the city depends almost entirely on 
 pumps for its supply of water, and these were filled with the 
 flood, we have been drinking the muddy current of the Main 
 ever since. The damage to goods is very great. The fair 
 was stopped at once, and the loss in this respect alone, must 
 be several millions of florins. The water began to fall on 
 the 1st, and has now sunk about ten feet, so that most of 
 the houses are again released, though in a bad condition. 
 
 Yesterday afternoon, as I was sitting in my room, writing, 
 I heard all at once an explosion like a cannon in the street, 
 followed by loud and continued screams. Looking out of 
 the window, I saw the people rushing by with goods in 
 their arms, some wringing their hands and crying, others 
 running in all directions. Imagining that it was nothing 
 less than the tumbling down of one of the old houses, we 
 ran down and saw a shop a few doors off, wrapped in flames. 
 The windows were bursting out, and the mingled mass of 
 smoke and red flame reached half way across the street. 
 We learned afterwards that it was occasioned by the explo- 
 sion of a jar of naphtha, which instantly enveloped the whole 
 room in fire, the people barely escaping in time. The per- 
 sons who had booths near were standing still in despair, 
 
162 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 while the flames were beginning to touch their property^ A 
 few butchers who first came up, did almost everything. A 
 fire-engine arrived soon, but it was ten minutes before it 
 began to play, and by that time the flames were coming out 
 of the upper stories. Then the supply of water soon failed, 
 and though another engine came up shortly after, it Avas 
 some time before it could be put in order, so that by the time 
 they got fairly to work, the fire had made its way nearly 
 through the house. .The water was first brought in barrels 
 drawn by horses, until some officer came and opened the 
 fire-plug. The police were busy at work seizing those who 
 came by and setting them to work ; and as the alarm had 
 drawn a great many together, they at last began to effect 
 something. All the military are obliged to turn out, and the 
 officers appeared eager to use their authority while they 
 could, for every one was ordering and commanding, till it 
 became a scene of perfect confusion and uproar. I could not 
 help laughing heartily, so ludicrous was the spectacle. 
 There were little miserable engines, not much bigger than a 
 hand-cart, and looking as if they had not been used for half 
 a century, the horses running backwards and forwards, 
 dragging barrels which were emptied into tubs, after which 
 the water was finally dipped up in buckets, and emptied 
 into the engines ! These machines can only play into the 
 second or third story, after which the hose was taken up 
 into the houses on the opposite side of the street, and made 
 to play across. After four hours the fire was overcome, the 
 house being thoroughly burnt out ; it happened to have 
 double fire-walls, which prevented the adjoining buildings 
 from catching easily. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE SPEAKING DEAF MENDELSSOHN. 
 
 The Beauty of Spring— The Frankfort Cemetery— Precautions against Burying 
 Alive — Monument by Thorwaldsen — ^The Speaking Deaf— Manner of Healing them 
 — Story of a Boy — ^The Hall of the Emperors — Mendelssohn, the Composer — Seeing 
 him in a Crowd — Interview with him — His Personal Appearance and Conversation. 
 
 Frankfort, April 20, 1845. 
 It is now a luxury to breathe. These spring days are the 
 perfection of delightful weather. Imagine the delicious 
 temperature of our Indian summer joined to the life and 
 freshness of spring, add to this a sky of the purest azure, 
 and a breeze filled with the odor of violets, — the most 
 exquisite of all perfumes, — and you will have some idea of 
 it. The meadows are beginning to bloom, and I have 
 already heard the larks singing high up in the sky. Those 
 sacred birds, the storks, have returned and taken possession 
 of their old nests on the chimney-tops. They are some- 
 times seen walking about in the fields, with a very grave 
 and serious air, as if conscious of the estimation in which 
 they are held. Everybody is out in the open air ; the 
 woods, although they still look wintry, are filled with 
 
164 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 people, and the boatmen on the Main are busy ferrying gay 
 parties across. The spring has been so long in coming, 
 that all are determined to enjoy it well while it lasts. 
 
 We visited the Cemetery a few days ago. The dead- 
 house, where corpses are placed in the hope of resuscita- 
 tion, is an appendage to cemeteries found only in Germany. 
 We were shown into a narrow chamber, on each side of 
 which were six cells, into which one could distinctly see, by 
 means of a large plate of glass. In each of these is a bier 
 for the body, directly above which hangs a cord, having on 
 the end ten thimbles, which are put upon the fingers of the 
 corpse, so that the slightest motion strikes a bell in the 
 watchman's room. Lamps are lighted at night, and in 
 winter the rooms are warmed. In the watchman's chamber 
 stands a clock with a dial of twenty -four hours, and oppo- 
 site every hour is a little plate, which can only be moved 
 two minutes before it strikes. If then the watchman has 
 slept or neglected his duty at that time, he cannot move it 
 afterwards, and his neglect is seen by the superintendent. 
 In such case, he is severely fined, and for the second or 
 third offence, dismissed. There are other rooms adjoining, 
 containing beds, baths, galvanic battery, &c. Nevertheless, 
 they say there has been no resuscitation during the fifteen 
 years since the Cemetery has been opened. 
 
 We afterwards went to the end of the Cemetery to see 
 the bas-reliefs of Thorwaldsen, in the vault of the Bethmann 
 family. They are three in number, representing the death 
 of a son of the present banker, Moritz von Bethmann, who 
 was drowned in the Arno about fourteen years ago. The 
 middle one represents the young man drooping in his chair, 
 
THE SPEAKING DEAF. 165 
 
 t"he beautiful Greek Angel of Death standing at his back, 
 with one arm over his shoulder, while his younger brother 
 is sustaining him, and receiving the wreath that drops from 
 his sinking hand. The young woman who showed us these 
 told us of Thorwaldsen's visit to Frankfort, about three 
 years ago. She described him as a beautiful and venerable 
 old man, with long white locks hanging over his shoulder, 
 and still vigorous and active for his years. There seems to 
 have been much resemblance between him and Dannecker — 
 not only in personal appearance and character, but in the 
 simple and classical beauty of their works. 
 
 On our return to the city we visited the Institute for the 
 Deaf; for by the new method of teaching they are no longer 
 dumb. It is a handsome building in the gardens skirting the 
 city. We applied, and on learning we were strangers, they 
 gave us permission to enter. The instructress took us into 
 a room where about fifteen small children were assembled, 
 and addressing one of the girls, said in a distinct tone : 
 " These gentlemen are from America ; the deaf children 
 there speak with their fingers — canst thou speak so ?" To 
 which the child answered distinctly, but with some effort : 
 *' No, we speak with our mouths." She then spoke to seve- 
 ral others with the same success ; one of the boys, in parti- 
 cular, articulated with astonishing fluency. It was interest- 
 ing to watch their countenances, which were alive with 
 eager attention, and to see the apparent efforts they made 
 to utter the words. They spoke in a monotonous tone, 
 slowly and deliberately, but their voices had a strange, 
 sepulchral sound, which was at first unpleasant to the ear. 
 I put one or two questions to a little boy, which he answered 
 
106 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 quite readily ; as I was a foreigner, this was tlie best test 
 that could be given of the success of the method. We con- 
 versed afterwards with the director, who received us kindly, 
 and appointed a day for us to come and see the system more 
 fully. He spoke of Dr. Howe and Horace Mann, of Bos- 
 ton, and seemed to take a great interest in the introduction 
 of this system into America. 
 
 We went again at the appointed time, and as their draw- 
 ing teacher was there, we had an opportunity of looking 
 over their sketches, which were excellent. The director 
 showed us the manner of teaching them, by means- of a look- 
 ing-glass, in which they were shown the different positions 
 of the organs of the mouth, and afterwards made to feel the 
 vibrations of the throat and breast, produced by the sound. 
 He took one of the youngest scholars, covered her eyes, and 
 placing her hand upon his throat, articulated the second sound 
 of A. She followed him, making the sound softer or louder 
 as he did. All the consonants were recognized and repeated 
 distinctly, by placing her hand before his mouth. Their ex- 
 ercises in reading, speaking with one another, and writing 
 from dictation, succeeded perfectly. He treated them as if 
 they were his own children, and sought by jesting and play- 
 ing, to make the exercise appear like sport. They call him 
 father, and appear to be much attached to him. 
 
 One of the pupils, about fourteen years old, interested me 
 through his history. He and his sister were found in Sach- 
 senhausen, by a Frankfort merchant, in a horrible condition. 
 Their mother had died about two years and a half before, 
 and during all that time, their father had neglected them, 
 until they were near dead through privation and filth. The 
 
THE HALL OF THE EMPERORS. 167 
 
 boy was placed in tliis Institute, and the girl in that of the 
 Orphans. He soon began to show a talent for modelling 
 figures, and for some time he has been studying under the 
 sculptor Launitz. I saw a beautiful copy of a bas-relief of 
 Thorwaldsen which he made, as well as an original, very 
 interesting, from its illustration of his own history. It was 
 in two parts ; the first represented himself and his sister, 
 kneeling in misery before a ruined family altar, by which an 
 angel w^as standing, who took him by one hand, and pointed 
 to his benefactor, standing near. The other represented the 
 two kneeling in gratitude before a restored altar, on which 
 was the anchor of Hope. From above streamed down a 
 light, where two angels were rejoicing over their happiness. 
 For a boy of fourteen, deprived of one of the most valu- 
 able senses, and taken from such a horrible condition of 
 life, it is a surprising work, and gives brilliant hopes for his 
 future. 
 
 "We went lately into the Romerberg, to see the Kaisersaal 
 and the other rooms formerly used by the old Emperors of 
 Grermany, and their Senates. The former is now in the 
 process of restoration. The ceiling is in the gorgeous illu- 
 minated style of the middle ages ; along each side are rows 
 of niches for the portraits of the Emperors, which have been 
 painted by the best artists in Berlin. Dresden, Vienna and 
 Munich. It is remarkable that the number of the original 
 niches in the old hall should exactly correspond with the 
 number of the German Emperors, so that the portrait of the 
 Emperor Francis of Austria, who was the last, will close the 
 long rank coming down from Charlemagne. The pictures, 
 or at least such of them as are already finished, are kept in 
 
168 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 another room ; they give one a good idea of the changing 
 styles of royal costumes, from the steel shirt and helmet to 
 the jewelled diadem and velvet robe. I looked with interest 
 on a painting of Frederic Barbarossa, by Lessing, and mused 
 over the popular tradition that he sits with his paladins in a 
 mountain cave under the Castle of Kyffhiiuser, ready to 
 come forth and assist his Fatherland in the hour of need. 
 There was the sturdy form of Maximilian ; the martial Con- 
 rad ; and Ottos, Siegfrieds and Sigismunds in plenty — many 
 of whom moved a nation in their day, but are now dust and 
 almost forgotten. 
 
 Mendelssohn, one of the greatest living composers, has 
 been spending the winter here, and I have been fortunate 
 enough to see him twice. One sunny day, three weeks ago, 
 when all the population of Frankfort turned out upon the 
 budding promenades and the broad quays along'the Main, 
 to enjoy the first spring weather, I went on my usual after- 
 noon stroll, with my friend Willis, whose glowing talk con- 
 cerning his art is quite as refreshing to me after the day's 
 study in the gloomy Markt-platz, as are the blue hills of 
 Spessart, which we see from the bridge over the river. As 
 we were threading the crowd of boatmen, Tyrolese, Sua- 
 bians, and Bohemians, on the quay, my eye was caught by 
 a man who came towards us, and whose face and air were in 
 such striking contrast to those about him, that my whole 
 attention was at once fixed upon him. He was simply and 
 rather negligently dressed in dark cloth, with a cravat tied 
 loosely about his neck. His beard had evidently not been 
 touched for two or three days, and his black hair was long 
 and frowzed by the wind. His eyes, which were large, 
 
A GLIMPSE OF MENDELSSOHN. 169 
 
 dark, and kindling, were directed forward and lifted in the 
 abstraction of some absorbing thought, and as he passed, I 
 heard him singing to himself in a voice deep but not loud, 
 and yet with a far different tone from that of one who hums 
 a careless air as he walks. But a few notes caught my ear, 
 yet I remember their sound, elevated and with that scarcely 
 perceptible vibration which betrays a feeling below the 
 soul's surface, as distinctly now as at the time. Willis 
 grasped my arm quickly, and said in a low voice, '* Mendels- 
 sohn ! " I turned hastily, and looked after him as he went 
 down the quay, apparently but half conscious of the stirring 
 scenes around him. I could easily imagine how the balmy, 
 indolent sensation in the air, so like a soothing and tran- 
 quillizing strain of music, should have led him into the serene 
 and majestic realm of his own creations. 
 
 It was something to have seen a man of genius thus 
 alone and in communion with his inspired thoughts, and. I 
 could not repress a feeling of pleasure at the idea of having 
 unconsciously acknowledged his character before I knew 
 his name. After this passing glimpse, this flash of him, 
 however, came the natural desire to see his features in 
 repose, and obtain some impression of his personality. An 
 opportunity soon occurred. The performance of his " Wal- 
 purgisnacht," by the Csecilien-Verein, a day or two there- 
 after, increased the enthusiasm I had before felt for his 
 works, and full of the recollection of its sublime Druid 
 choruses, I wrote a few lines to him, expressive of the 
 delight they had given me, and of my wish to possess his 
 name in autograph, that I might take to America some 
 token connected with their remembrance. The next day I 
 8 
 
170 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 received a very kind note in reply, enclosing a manuscript 
 score of a chorus from the " Walpurgisnacht." 
 
 Summoning up my courage tlie next morning, I decided 
 on calling upon him in person, feeling certain that he would 
 understand the motive which prompted me to take such a 
 liberty. I had no difficulty in finding his residence in the 
 Bockenheimei' Gasse, in the western part of the city. The 
 servant ushered me into a handsomely furnished room, with 
 a carpet, an unusual thing in German houses ; a grand piano 
 occupied one side of the apartment. These struck my eye 
 on entering, but my observation was cut short by the 
 appearance of Mendelssohn. A few words of introduction 
 served to remove any embarrassment I might have felt on 
 account of my unceremonious call, and I was soon put 
 entirely at ease by his frank and friendly manner. As he 
 sat opposite to me, beside a small table, covered with 
 articles of vertiij I was much struck with the high intel- 
 lectual beauty of his countenance. His forehead is white, 
 unwrinkled, and expanding above, in the region of the ideal 
 faculties. His eyes are large, very dark, and lambent with 
 a light that seemed to come through them — like the phos- 
 phorescent gleam on the ocean at midnight. I have ob- 
 served this peculiar character of the eye only in men of the 
 highest genius. None of the engravings of Mendelssohn 
 which have yet been made give any idea of the kindling 
 effect which is thus given to his face. His nose is slightly, 
 prominent, and the traces of his Jewish blood are seen in 
 this, as well as the thin but delicate curve of the upper lip, 
 and the high cheek-bones. Yet it is the Jewish face softened 
 and spiritualized, retaining none of its coarser characteristics. 
 
HEKDELSSOHN. lYl 
 
 The faces of Jewisli youth are of a rare and remarkable 
 beauty, but this is scarcely ever retained beyond the first 
 period of manhood. In Mendelssohn, the perpetual youth 
 of spirit, which is the gift of genius alone, seems to have 
 kept his features moulded to its expression, while the 
 approach of maturer years but heightens and strengthens 
 its character. 
 
 He spoke of German music, and told me I should hear it best 
 performed in Vienna and Berlin. Some remarks on America 
 led him to speak of the proposed Musical Festival in New 
 York. He has received a letter inviting him to assist in it, 
 and said he would gladly attend it, but his duty to his family 
 will not permit of his leaving. He appeared to be much 
 gratified by the invitation, not only for the personal appre- 
 ciation which it implied, but as a cheering sign of progress 
 in the musical art. Mr. Willis, who met with Mendelssohn 
 last summer, at the baths of Kronthal, said that he expressed 
 much curiosity respecting our native negro melodies — which, 
 after all, form the only peculiarly national music we possess 
 — and that he considers some of them exceedingly beautiful 
 and original. 
 
 I did not feel at liberty to intrude long upon the morning 
 hours of a composer, and took my leave after a short inter- 
 view, Mendelssohn, at parting, expressed his warm interest 
 in our country's progress, especially in the refined arts, and 
 gave me a kind invitation to call upon him in whatever Ger- 
 man city I should find him. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 JOURNEY ON FOOT FROM FRANKFORT TO CASSEI* 
 
 Leaving Frankfort— Plan of our German Tour — The Country in Spring— A " Fighting" 
 Journeyman— Giessen— The Valley of the Lahn— Foot-travelliog in Hesse Cassel — 
 A Village Inn — A Tattling Boy— Mountain Scenery — Meeting with Students— The 
 City of Cassel— Carl, the Student— Walk to theWilhelmshOhe— The Giant's Castle- 
 Cascades and Fountains, 
 
 The day for leaving Frankfort came at last, and I bade adieu 
 to the gloomy, antique, but still quaint and pleasant city. I 
 felt like leaving a second home, so much had the memories 
 of many delightful hours spent there attached me to it : I shall 
 long retain the recollection of its dark old streets, its massive 
 devil-haunted bridge and the ponderous cathedral, telling of 
 the times of the Crusaders. I toiled up the long hill on the 
 road to Friedberg, and from the tower at the top took a last 
 look at the distant city, with a heart heavier than the knap- 
 sack whose unaccustomed weight rested uneasily on my 
 shoulders. Being alone — starting out into the wide world, 
 where as yet I knew no one, — I felt much more deeply 
 what it was to find friends in a strange land. But parting 
 is the wanderer's lot. 
 
PLAN OF OUR GERMAN TOUR. l73 
 
 We had determined on making the complete tour of Ger- 
 many on foot, and in order to vary it somewhat, my friend 
 and I proposed taking different routes from Frankfort to 
 Leipsic. He chose a circuitous course, by way of Nurem- 
 berg and the Thiiringian forests ; while I, whose fancy had 
 been running wild with Goethe's witches, preferred looking 
 on the gloom and grandeur of the rugged Hartz. We both 
 left Frankfort on the 23d of April, each bearing a letter of 
 introduction to the same person in Leipsic, where we agreed 
 to meet in fourteen days. As we were obliged to travel as 
 cheaply as possible, I started with but seventy -nine florins 
 (a florin is forty cents American), well knowing that if I took 
 more, I should, in all probability, spend proportionably more 
 also. Thus, armed with my passport, properly vised, a knap- 
 sack weighing fifteen pounds and a cane from the Kentucky 
 Mammoth Cave, I began my lonely walk through Northern 
 Germany. 
 
 The warm weather of the week previous had brought out 
 the foliage of the willows and other early trees, and the 
 violets and cowslips were springing up in the meadows. Keep- 
 ing along the foot of the Taunus, I passed over great, broad 
 hills, which were brown with the spring ploughing, and by 
 sunset reached Friedberg — a large city, on the summit of a 
 hill. The next morning, after sketching its old, baronial 
 castle, I crossed the meadows to Nauheim, to see the salt 
 springs there. They are fifteen in number ; the water, which 
 is very warm, rushes up with such force as to leap several 
 feet above the earth. The buildings made for evaporation 
 are nearly two miles in length ; and a walk along the top 
 gives a delightful view of the surrounding valleys. After 
 
1V4 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 reaching the chaussee again, I was hailed hy a wandering 
 journeyman or handwerker, as they are called, who wanted 
 company. As I had concluded to accept all offers of this 
 kind, we trudged along together very pleasantly. He was 
 from Holstein, on the borders of Denmark, and was just return- 
 ing home, after an absence of six years, having escaped from 
 Switzerland after the late battle of Luzerne, which he had 
 witnessed. He had his knapsack and tools fastened on 
 wheels, which he drew after him quite conveniently. I could 
 not help laughing at the adroit manner in which he begged 
 his way along, through every village. He would ask me to 
 go on and wait for him at the further end, where he would 
 join me after a short delay, with a handful of small copper 
 money, which he said he had fought for, — the handwerker's 
 term for hegged. 
 
 We passed over long ranges of hills, with an occasional 
 view of the Vogelsgebirge, or Bird's Mountains, far to the 
 east. I knew at length, by the pointed summits of the hills, 
 that we were approaching Giessen and the valley of the 
 Lahn. Finally, two sharp peaks appeared in the distance, 
 each crowned with a picturesque fortress, and the spires of 
 Giessen rose from the valley below. Parting from my 
 " fighting" companion, I passed through the city without 
 stopping, for it was the time of the university vacation, and 
 Dr. Liebig, the world-renowned chemist, whom I desired to 
 see, was absent. 
 
 Crossing a hill or two, I came down into the valley of the 
 Lahn, which flows through meadows of the brightest green, 
 with red-roofed cottages nestled among gardens and orchards 
 upon its banks. The -women here wear a remarkable cos- 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE LAHN. 1*75 
 
 tume, consisting of a red boddice with white sleeves, and a 
 dozen skirts, one above another^ reaching only to the knees. 
 I slept at a little village among the hills, and started early 
 for Marburg. The meadows were of the purest emerald, 
 through which the stream wound its way, with even borders, 
 covered to the water's edge with grass so smooth and 
 velvety, that a fairy might have danced along on it for miles 
 without stumbling over an uneven tuft. This valley is one 
 of the most charming districts in Germany. I thought, as I 
 saw the peaceful inhabitants at work in their fields, that I 
 had most probably, on the battle-field of Brandywine, 
 walked over the bones of some of their ancestors, whom a 
 despotic prince had torn from their happy homes, to die in 
 a distant land, fighting against the cause of freedom. 
 
 I now entered directly into the heart of Hesse Cassel. 
 The country resembled a collection of hills thrown together 
 in confusion — sometimes a wide plain left between them, 
 sometimes a cluster of wooded peaks, and here and there a 
 single pointed summit rising high above the rest. The valleys 
 were green as ever, the hill-sides freshly ploughed, and the 
 forests beginning to be colored by the tender foliage of the 
 larch and birch. My custom was to walk two or three 
 hours at a stretch, and then, when X could find a dry, shady 
 bank, I would rest for half an hour and finish some hastily- 
 sketched landscape, or lie at full length, with my head on 
 my knapsack, and peruse the covuitenances of those passing 
 by. The observation which every traveller excites, soon 
 ceases to be embarrassing. It was at first extremely 
 unpleasant; but I am now so hardened, that the 
 strange, magnetic influence of the human eye, which we 
 
1*76 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 cannot avoid feeling, fails to penetrate my acquired indif- 
 ference. 
 
 During the day several showers came by, but as none of 
 them struck quite to the skin, I kept on, and reached about 
 sunset a little village in the valley. I chose a small inn, 
 which had an air of neatness about it, and on going in, the 
 tidy landlady's " be you welcome," as she brought a pair of 
 slippers for my swollen feet, made me feel quite at home. 
 After being furnished with eggs, milk, butter, and bread, for 
 supper, which I ate while listening to an animated discussion 
 between the village schoolmaster and some farmers, I was 
 ushered into a clean, sanded bedroom, and soon forgot all 
 fatigue. For this, with breakfast in the morning, the bill 
 was six and a half groschen — about sixteen cents ! The air 
 was freshened by the rain, and I journeyed over the hills at 
 a rapid rate. Stopping for dinner at the large village of 
 Wafcern, a boy at the inn asked me if I was going to Ameri- 
 ca ? I said no, I came from there. He then addressed to 
 me many silly questions, after which he ran out and told the 
 people of the village. . When I set out again, the children 
 pointed at me and cried : " see there ! he is from America !" 
 and the men took off their hats and bowed ! 
 
 The sky was stormy, which added to the gloom of the 
 hills around, although some of the distant ranges lay in 
 mingled light and shade — the softest alternation of purple 
 and brown. . There were many isolated, rocky hills, two of 
 which interested me, through their attendant legends. One 
 is said to have been the scene of a battle between the 
 Komans and Germans, where, after a long conflict, the 
 rock opened and swallowed up the former. The other. 
 
MEETIXa WITH STUDENTS. 17*7 
 
 whicli is crowned with a rocky wall, so like a ruined fortress, 
 as at a distance to be universally mistaken for one, tradition 
 says is the death-place of Charlemagne, who still walks 
 around its summit every night, clad in complete armor. On 
 ascending a hill late in the afternoon, I saw at a great dis- 
 tance the statue of Hercules, which stands on the Wilhelms- 
 hohe, near Cassel. Night set- in with a dreary rain, and I 
 stopped at an inn about five miles short of the city. While 
 tea was preparing, a company of students came in and asked 
 for a separate room. Seeing I was alone, they invited me 
 to join them. They seemed much interested in America, 
 and leaving the table gradually, formed a ring around me, 
 where I had enough to do to talk with them all at once. 
 When the omnibus came along, the most of them went with 
 it to Cassel ; but five remained and persuaded me to set out 
 with them on foot. They insisted on carrying my knapsack 
 the whole way, through the rain and darkness, and when I 
 had passed the city gate with them, unchallenged, conducted 
 me to the comfortable hotel, " Zur Krone '^ 
 
 It is a pleasant thing to wake up in the morning in a 
 strange city. Every thing is new ; you walk around it for 
 the first time in the full enjoyment of the novelty, or the 
 not less agreeable feeling of surprise, if it is different from 
 your anticipations. Two of my friends of the previous 
 night called for me in the morning, to pilot me around the 
 city, and the first impression, made in such agreeable com- 
 pany, prepossessed me very favorably. I shall not, how- 
 ever, take up time in describing its many sights, particularly 
 the Frederick's Platz, where the statue of Frederick the 
 Second, who sold ten thousand of his subjects to England, 
 8* 
 
178 VIEWS A-rooT. 
 
 has been re-erected, after having lain for years in a stable 
 where it was thrown by the French. 
 
 I was much interested in young Carl K , one of my 
 
 new acquaintances. His generous and unceasing kindness 
 first won my esteem, and I found, on ne<irer acquaintance, 
 the qualities of his mind equal those of his heart. He re^ 
 to me many beautiful poems of his which were of remark- 
 able merit, considering his youth, and I thought I could read 
 in his dark, dreamy eye, the unconscious presentiment of a 
 power he does not yet possess. He seemed as one I had 
 known for years. 
 
 He, with a brother student, accompanied me in the after- 
 noon to TTilhelmshiJhe, the summer residence of the Prince, 
 on the side of a range of mountains three miles west of the 
 city. The road leads in a diiect line to the summit of the 
 mountain, which is thirteen hundred feet in height, surmount- 
 ed by a great structure, called the Giant's Castle, on the 
 summit of which is a pyramid ninety-six feet high, support- 
 ing a statue of Hercules, copied after the Famese, and 
 thirty-one feet in height. By a gradual ascent through 
 beautiful woods, we reached the princely residence, a mag- 
 nificent mansion standing on a natural terrace of the moun- 
 tain. Xear it is a little theatre built by Jerome Buonaparte, 
 in which he used to perform occasionally. We looked into 
 the green-house in passing, where the floral splendor of every 
 zone was combined. There were lofty halls, with glass 
 roofs, where the orange grew to a great tree, and one could 
 sit in myrtle bowers, with the brilliant bloom of the tropics 
 around him. It was the only thing there I was guilty of 
 coveting. 
 
CASCADES AT WILHELMSHOHE. 1*79 
 
 The greatest curiosity is the water-works, which are 
 perhaps unequalled in the world. The Giant's Castle on 
 the summit contains an immense tank in which water is 
 kept for the purpose, but unfortunately, at the time I was 
 there, the pipes, which had been frozen through the winter, 
 were not in condition to play. From the summit an inclined 
 plane of masonry descends the mountain nine hundred feet, 
 broken every one hundred and fifty feet by perpendicular 
 descents. These are the Cascades, down which the water 
 first rushes from the tank. After being again collected in a 
 great basin at the bottom, it passes into an aqueduct, built 
 like a E-oman ruin, and goes over beautiful arches through 
 the forest, where it falls in one sheet down a deep precipice. 
 When it has descended several other beautiful falls, made 
 in exact imitation of nature, it is finally collected and forms 
 the great fountain, which rises twelve inches in diameter 
 from the middle of a lake to the height of one hundred and 
 ninety feet ! We descended by lovely walks through the 
 forest to the Lowenburg, built as the ruin of a knightly 
 castle, and fitted out in every respect to correspond with the 
 descriptions of a fortress in the olden time, with moat, draw- 
 bridge, chapel and a garden of clipped trees. Further below, 
 there are a few small houses, inhabited by the descendants 
 of the Hessians who fell in America, supported here at the 
 Prince's expense ! 
 
OHAPTEE XVIII. 
 
 ADVENTURES AMONG THE HARTE. 
 
 Parting from Carl— The Town of Munden— Illness— Gottingen, and a Physician- 
 Approach to the Hartz — Osterode — ^Entering the Mountains — Wild Scenery— A 
 Stormy Night — Climbing the Brocken — A Snow Storm — Perilous Travelling — ^The 
 Brocken House — The Spectre — Peeps through the Clouds — Descent of the Brocken 
 — ^Valleys of the Hartz — The Eosstrappe — The Landlady's Legend— Walk to Hal- 
 berstadt — ^A Suspicious Inn — The Sleeping Chamber — Anticipation of Murder — 
 Eelief. 
 
 On taking leave of Carl at the gate over the Gottingen road, 
 I felt tempted to hestow a malediction upon travelling, from 
 its merciless breaking of all links, as soon as formed. It 
 was painful to think 'we should meet no more. The tears 
 started into his eyes, and feeling a mist gathering over 
 mine, I gave his hand a parting pressure, turned my back 
 upon Cassel, and started up the long mountain, at a despe- 
 rate rate. On the summit I passed out of Hesse into Hano- 
 ver, and began to descend the remaining six miles. The 
 road went down by many windings, but I shortened the 
 way considerably by a foot-path through a mossy old 
 forest. The hills bordering the Weser are covered with 
 wood, through which I saw the little red-roofed city of 
 
GOTTINGEN AND A PHYSICIAN. 181 
 
 Miinden, at the bottom. I stopped there for the night, and 
 next morning walked around the place. It is one of the old 
 German cities that have not yet felt the effect of the 
 changing spirit of the age. It is still walled, though the 
 towers are falling to ruin. The streets are narrow, crooked, 
 and full of ugly old houses, and while standing in the little 
 square before the public buildings, one would think himself 
 bom in the sixteenth century, Just below the city, the 
 "Werra and Fulda unite and form the Weser. The triangu- 
 lar point has been made into a public walk, and the little 
 steamboat was lying at anchor near, waiting to start for 
 Bremen. 
 
 In the afternoon I got into the omnibus for Gottingen. 
 The ride over the wild, dreary, monotonous hills was not at 
 all interesting. There were two other . passengers inside, 
 one of whom, a grave, elderly man, took a great interest in 
 America, but the conversation was principally on his side ; 
 for I had been taken with a fever in Miinden. I lay 
 crouched up in the corner of the vehicle, trying to keep off 
 the chills which cojpstantly came over me, and wishing only 
 for Gottingen, that I might obtain medicine and a bed. We 
 reached the city at last, and I got out with my knapsack 
 and walked wearily through half a dozen streets until I saw 
 an inn. But on entering, I found it so dark and dirty and 
 unfriendly, that I immediately went out again and hired the 
 first pleasant looking boy I met, to take me to a good hotel. 
 He conducted me to the best in the city. I felt a trepida- 
 tion of pocket, but my throbbing head pleaded more power- 
 fully, so I ordered a comfortable room and a physician. The 
 host, Herr Wilhelm. sent for Professor Trefurt, of the Uni- 
 
182 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 versity, who told me I had over-exerted myself in walking. 
 He made a second call the next day, when, as he was 
 reth'ing, I inqmred the amount of his fee. He begged to be 
 excused, and politely bowed himself out. I asked the 
 meaning of this of Herr Wilhelm, who said it was customary 
 for travellers to leave what they chose for the physician, as 
 there was no regular fee. He added, moreover, that twenty 
 groschen, or about sixty cents, was sufficient for the two 
 visits ! 
 
 I stayed in Gottingen two dull, dreary, miserable days, 
 without getting much better. I took but one short walk 
 through the city, in which I saw the outsides of a few old 
 churches and got a hard fall on the pavement. Thinking 
 that the cause of my illness might perhaps become its cure, 
 I resolved to resume my walk rather than remain in the 
 melancholy — in spite of its black-eyed maidens, melancholy 
 — Gottingen. On the afternoon of the second day, I took 
 the post to Nordheim, about twelve miles distant. The 
 Gottingen valley, down which we drove, was green and 
 beautiful, and the trees seemed to have c«3me into leaf all at 
 once. We were not within sight of the Hartz, but the 
 mountains along the Weser were visible on the left. The 
 roads were extremely muddy from the late rains, so that I 
 proceeded but slowly. 
 
 A blue range along the horizon told me of the Hartz, as I 
 advanced, but although there were some fine side-glimpses 
 through the hills, I did not see much of them until I reached 
 Osterode, about twelve miles further. Here the country 
 begins to assume a different aspect. The city lies in a 
 narrow valley, and as the road goes down a steep hill 
 
ENTERING THE HARTZ. 183 
 
 towards it, one sees on each side many quarries of gypsum, 
 and in front the gloomy pine mountains are piled one above 
 another in real Alpine style. But alas ! the city, though it 
 looks exceedingly romantic from above, is one of the dirtiest 
 places I ever saw. I stopped at Herzberg, six miles farther, 
 for the night. The scenery was very striking ; and its effect 
 was much heightened by a sky full of black clouds, which 
 sent down a hail-storm as they passed over. The hills are 
 covered with pine, fir, and larch. The latter tree, in its first 
 foliage, is most delicate and beautiful. Every bough is like 
 a long ostrich plume, and when one of them stands among 
 the dark pines, it seems as light and airy as if the wind 
 might carry it away. Just opposite Herzberg, the Hartz 
 lowers in its gloomy and mysterious grandeur, and I went 
 to sleep with the pleasant thought that an hour's walk on the 
 morrow would shut me up in its deep recesses. 
 
 The next morning I entered them. The road led up a 
 narrow mountain valley, down which a stream was rushing 
 — on all sides magnificent forests of pine. It was glorious 
 to look down their long aisles, dim and silent, with a floor of 
 thick green moss. There was just room enough for the road 
 and the wild stream which wound its way zigzag between the 
 hills, affording the most picturesque mountain scenery along 
 the whole route. As I ascended, the mountains became 
 rougher and wilder, and in the shady hollows were still drifts 
 of snow. Enjoying every thing very much, I walked on 
 without taking notice of the road, and on reaching a wild, 
 rocky chasm called the " Schlucht," was obliged to turn 
 aside and take a footpath over a high mountain to Andreas- 
 berg, a town built on a summit two thousand feet above the 
 
184 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 sea. It is inhabited almost entirely by the workmen from 
 the mines. 
 
 The path from Andreasberg to the Brocken leads along 
 the E-ehberger Ditches, which carry water about six miles 
 for the ore-works. After going through a thick pine wood, 
 I came out on the mountain-side, where rough crags over- 
 hung the way, and through the tops of the trees I had 
 glimpses into the gorge below. It was scenery of the 
 wildest character. Directly opposite rose a mountain wall, 
 dark and stern through the gloomy sky ; far below the little 
 stream of the Oder foamed over the rocks with a continual 
 roar, and one or two white cloud- wreaths were curling up 
 from the forests. 
 
 I followed the water-ditch around every projection of the 
 mountain, still ascending higher amid the same wild scenery, 
 until at length I reached the Oderteich, a great dam, in a 
 kind of basin formed by some mountain peaks on the side 
 of the Brocken. It has a breastwork of granite, very firm, 
 and furnishes a continual supply of water for the works.' 
 The rain soon began to fall, and I took a footpath which 
 went winding up through the pine wood. The storm still 
 increased, and finally became so thick and dark that I was 
 obliged to stop about five o'clock at Oderbruch, a toll-house 
 and tavern on the side of the Brocken, on the boundary be- 
 tween Brunswick and Hanover — the second highest inhabit- 
 ed house in the Hartz. The Brocken was invisible through 
 the storm, and the weather foreboded a difficult ascent. The 
 night was cold, but by a warm fire I let the winds howl and 
 the rain beat. When I awoke the next morning, we were in 
 clouds. They were thick on every side, hiding what little 
 
THE BROCKEN IN A STORM. 185 
 
 view there was through the openings of the forest. After 
 breakfast, however, they appeared to be somewhat thinner, 
 and I decided to start for the Brocken. This is not the 
 usual road for travellers who ascend, being not only rough 
 but difficult to find, as I soon discovered. The clouds 
 gathered around again after I set out, and I was obliged to 
 walk in a storm of mingled rain and snow. The snow lay- 
 several feet deep in the forests, and the path was in many 
 places quite drifted over. The white cloud-masses were 
 whirled past by the wind, continually enveloping me and 
 shutting out every view. During the winter the path had 
 become, in many places, the bed of a mountain torrent, so 
 that sometimes I waded knee-deep in snow, and sometimes 
 I walked over the wet, spongy moss, crawling under the 
 long, dripping branches of the stunted pines. After a long 
 time of such dreary travelling, I came to two rocks called 
 the Stag Horns, standing on a little peak. The storm, now 
 all snow, blew more violently than ever, and the path was 
 lost under the deep drifts. 
 
 Comforting myself with the assurance that if I could not 
 find my way, I could at least return, I began searching, and 
 after some time, came upon the path again. Here the forest 
 ceased ; the way led on large stones over a marshy, ascend- 
 ing plain, but what was above, or on either side, I could not 
 see. It was solitude of the most awful kind. There was 
 nothing but the storm, which had already wet me through, 
 and the bleak gray waste of rocks. The mountain grew 
 steeper and steeper ; I could barely trace the path by the 
 rocks which were worn, and the snow threatened soon to 
 cover these. Added to this, although the walking and the 
 
186 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 fresh mountain air had removed my illness, I was still weak 
 from the effects of it, and the consequences of a much longer 
 exposure to the storm were greatly to be feared. After two 
 or three hours spent in this way, I found myself growing 
 chill in spite of the labor of climbing ; the path was wholly 
 lost, the snow was blinding, and the wind increased at such 
 a rate, that I began to think I should be carried away 
 bodily, when suddenly something dark loomed up above me. 
 through the storm. A few steps more and I stood beside 
 the Brocken House, on the very summit of the mountain ! 
 The mariner, who has been floating for days on a wreck at 
 sea, could scarcely be more rejoiced at a friendly sail, than I 
 was on entering the low building. Two large Alpine dogs 
 in the passage, gave notice to the inmates, as I walked in, 
 dripping with wet, and I was soon ushered into a warm room, 
 where I changed my soaked garments for dry ones, and sat 
 down by the fire with feelings of comfort not easily imagin- 
 ed. The old landlord was quite surprised, on learning the 
 path by which I came, that I had succeeded in finding the 
 way at all. The summit was wrapped in the thickest cloud, 
 and he gave me no hope of any prospect for several hours, 
 so I sat down and looked over the Stranger's Album. 
 
 There were a great many long-winded German poems — 
 among them, one by Schelling, the philosopher. Some of 
 the visitors spoke of having seen the Spectre of the Brocken. 
 I inquired of the landlord about the phenomenon ; he says 
 it is frequently seen in winter, but in summer more seldom. 
 It always occurs at sunrise, when the eastern side of the 
 Brocken is free from clouds, and at the same time, the mist 
 rises from the valley on the opposite side. The shadow of 
 
GLIMPSES THROUGH THE CLOUDS. 187 
 
 every thing on tlie Brocken is then projected in grand pro- 
 portions upon the mist, and sometimes surrounded with a 
 luminous halo. It is somewhat singular that such a spectacle 
 is peculiar to the Brocken alone, but this is probably account- 
 ed for by the formation of the mountain, which collects the 
 mist at just such a distance from the summit as to render 
 the shadow visible. 
 
 Soon after dinner the storm subsided and the clouds sepa- 
 rated a little. I could see down through the rifts on the 
 plains of Brunswick, and sometimes, when they opened a 
 little more, the mountains below us to the east and the 
 adjoining plains, as far as Magdeburg. It was like looking 
 on the earth from another planet, or from some point in the 
 air which had no connection with it j our station was com- 
 pletely surrounded by clouds, rolling in great masses around 
 us, now and then giving glimpses through their openings of 
 the blue plains, dotted with cities and villages, far below. 
 At one time when they were tolerably well separated, I 
 ascended the tower, fifty feet high, standing near the 
 Brocken House. The view on three sides was quite clear, 
 and I can easily imagine what a magnificent prospect it 
 must be in fine weather. The Brocken is only about four 
 thousand feet high, nearly the same as the loftiest peak of 
 the Catskill, but being the highest mountain in Northern 
 Germany, it commands a more extensive prospect. Imagine 
 a circle described with a radius of a hundred miles, com- 
 prising thirty cities, two or three hundred villages, and one 
 whole mountain district! We could see Brunswick and 
 Magdeburg, and beyond them the great plain which extends 
 to the North Sea in one direction and to Berlin in the other. 
 
188 VIEWS A-FOOT, 
 
 while directly below us lay the dark mountains of the Hartz, 
 with little villages in their seq[uestered valleys. It was only 
 during a few moments that I could look on this scene — in 
 an instant the clouds swept together again and completely 
 hid it. In accordance with a custom of the mountain, one 
 of the girls made me a " Brocken nosegay," of heather, 
 lichens and moss. I gave her a few pfennings and stowed 
 it away carefully in a corner of my knapsack. 
 
 I now began descending the eastern side of the mountain, 
 by a good road over fields of gray rock and through large 
 forests of pine. Two or three bare brown peaks rose oppo- 
 site with an air of the wildest sublimity, and in many places 
 lofty crags towered above the forest. This is the way by 
 which Goethe brings Faust up the Brocken, and the scenery 
 is graphically described in that part of the poem. At the 
 foot of the mountain is the little village of Schiercke, the 
 highest in the Hartz. Here I took a narrow path through 
 the woods, and after following a tediously long road over 
 the hills, reached Elbingerode, where I spent the night. 
 The next morning I started for Blankenburg. I happened 
 to take the wrong road, however, and went through Riibe- 
 land, a little village in the valley of the Bode. There are 
 many iron works here, and two celebrated caves, called 
 " Baumann's Hohle," and " Biel's Hohle." I kept on 
 through the gray, rocky hills to Huttenrode, where I inquir- 
 ed the way to the Eosstrappe, but was wrongly directed, 
 and after walking nearly two hours in a heavy rain, arrived 
 at Ludwigshiitte, on the Bode, in one of the wildest and 
 loneliest corners of the Hartz. I dried my wet clothes at a 
 little inn, ate a dinner of bread and milk, and learning that 
 
THE ROSSTRAPPE. 189 
 
 I was just as far from tlie Rosstrappe as ever, and tKat it 
 was impossible to find the way alone, I engaged an old pea- 
 sant woman as a guide. Slie insisted on carrying my knap- 
 sack in a basket whicli sbe strapped to her shoulders, and 
 then set off at a pace which I could scarcely keep up with. 
 We went over the mountains through a fine old forest, for 
 about two hours, and came out on the brow of a hill near 
 the end of the Hartz, with a beautiful view of the country 
 below and around. Passing the little inn, the path led 
 through thick bushes along the summit, over a narrow ledge 
 of rocks that seemed to stretch out into the air, for on either 
 side the foot of the precipice, vanished in the depth below. 
 
 Arrived at last at the end, I looked around me. What a 
 spectacle ! I was standing on the end of a line of precipice 
 which ran out from the mountain like a wall for several hun- 
 dred feet — the hills around rising perpendicularly from the 
 gorge below, where the Bode, pressed into a narrow channel, 
 foamed its way through. Sharp masses of gray rock sprang 
 from the main body like pillars, with trees clinging to the 
 clefts, and although the defile was nearly seven hundred 
 feet deep, the summits, in one place, seemed almost to touch. 
 Near the point at which I stood, which was secured by a 
 railing, was an impression in the rock like the hoof of a giant 
 horse, from which the place takes its name. It is very dis- 
 tinct and perfect, and about two feet in length. 
 
 I went back to the little inn and sat down to rest and chat 
 awhile with the talkative landlady. Notwithstanding her hor- 
 rible Prussian dialect, I was much amused with the budget 
 of wonders, which she keeps for the information of travellers. 
 Among other things, she related to me the legend of the 
 
190 VIEWS A-FOOT* 
 
 Rosstrappe, wliich I give in her own words : " A great many 
 hundred years ago, when there were plenty of giants through 
 the world, there was a certain heautiful princess, who was 
 very much loved by one of them. Now, although the pa- 
 rents of this princess were afraid of the giant, and wanted 
 her to marry him, she herself hated him, because she was in 
 love with a brave knight. But, you see, the brave knight 
 could do nothing against the great giant, and so a day was 
 appointed for the wedding of the princess. When they w^ere 
 married, the giant had a great feast, and he and all his ser- 
 vants got drunk. So the princess mounted his black horse 
 and rode away over the mountains, till she reached this val- 
 ley. She stood on that square rock which you see there 
 opposite to us, and when she saw her knight on this side, 
 where we are, she danced for joy, and the rock is called the 
 Tanzplatz, to this very day. But when the giant found she 
 had gone, he followed her as fast as he might ; then a holy 
 bishop, who saw the princess, blessed the feet of her horse, 
 and she jumped on it across to this side, where his fore feet 
 made two marks in the rock, though there is only one left 
 now. You should not laugh at this, for if there were giants 
 then, there must have been very big horses too, as one can 
 see from the hoofmark, and the valley was narrower then 
 than it is now. My dear man, who is very old now, (you 
 see him through the bushes, there, digging,) says it was so 
 when he was a child, and that the old people living then, 
 told him there were once four just such hoof-tracks, on the 
 Tanzplatz, where the horse stood before he jumped over. 
 And we cannot doubt the words of the good old people, for 
 there were many strange things then, we all know, which the 
 
HALBERSTADT A SUSPICIOUS INN. 191 
 
 dear Lord does not let happen now. But I must tell jou, 
 lieber Herr, that the giant tried to jump after her and fell 
 away down the valley, where they say he lives yet in the 
 shape of a big black dog, guarding the crown of the princess, 
 which tumbled off as she was going over. But this part of 
 the story is perhaps not true, as nobody, that I ever heard 
 of, has seen either the black dog or the crown !" 
 
 After listening to similar gossip for a while, I descended 
 the mountain-side, a short distance to the Biilowshohe. 
 This is a rocky shaft that shoots upward from the mountain, 
 having from its top a glorious view through the door which 
 the Bode makes in passing out of the Hartz. I could see at 
 a great distance the towers of Magdeburg, and further, the 
 vast plain stretching away like a sea towards Berlin. From 
 Thale, the village below, where the air was warmer than in 
 the Hartz, and the fruit-trees already in blossom, it was four 
 hours' walk to Halberstadt, by a most tiresome road over 
 long ranges of hills, all ploughed and planted, and extending 
 as far as the eye could reach, without a single fence or 
 hedge. It is pleasant to look over scenes where nature is 
 so free and unshackled ; but the people, alas ! wear the 
 fetters. The setting sun, which lighted up the old Brocken 
 and his snowy top, showed me also Halberstadt, the end of 
 my Hartz journey ; but its deceitful towers fled as I ap- 
 proached, and I was half dead with fatigue on arriving 
 there. 
 
 Tlie ghostly, dark and echoing castle of an inn (the Black 
 Eagle) whei'e I stopped, was enough to inspire a lonely 
 traveller, like myself, with unpleasant fancies. It looked 
 heavy and massive enough to have been a stout baron's 
 
192 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 strongliold in some former century; the taciturn landlord 
 and his wife, who, with a solemn servant girl, were the 
 only tenants, had grown into perfect keeping with its gloomy 
 character. When I groped my way under the heavy, 
 arched portal into the guests' room — a large, lofty, cheerless 
 hall — all was dark, and I could barely perceive, by the little 
 light which came through two deep-set windows, the inmates 
 of the house, sitting on opposite sides of the room. After 
 some delay, the hostess brought a light. I entreated her to 
 furnish me something for supper, and in half an hour she 
 placed a mixture on the table, the like of which I never 
 wish to taste again. She called it beer-soup ! I found, on 
 examination, it was beer, boiled with meat, and seasoned 
 strongly with pepper and salt ! My hunger disappeared, and 
 pleading fatigue as an excuse for want of appetite, I left the 
 tab.le. When I was ready to retire, the landlady, who had 
 been sitting silently in a dark corner, called the solemn servant 
 girl, who took up a dim lamp, and bade me follow her to the 
 " sleeping chamber." Taking up my knapsack and staff, I 
 stumbled down the steps into the arched gateway ; before 
 me was a long, damp, deserted court-yard, across which the 
 girl took her way. I followed her with some astonish- 
 ment, imagining where the sleeping chamber could be, when 
 she stopped at a small, one-story building, standing alone in 
 the yard. Opening the door with a rusty key, she led me 
 into a bare room, a few feet square, opening into another, 
 equally bare, with the exception of a rough bed. " Cer- 
 tainly," said I, '* I am not to sleep here ! " " Yes," she 
 answered, " this is the sleeping chamber," at the same time 
 setting down the light and disappearing. I examined the 
 
APPREHENSIONS OF MURDER. 193 
 
 place — it smelt mouldy, and the walls were cold and damp ; 
 there had been a window at the head of the bed, but it was 
 walled up, and another at the foot of the bed was also closed 
 to within a few inches of the top. The bed was coarse and 
 dirty ; and on turning down the ragged covers, I saw with 
 horror, a dark brown stain near the pillow, like that of 
 blood ! For a moment I hesitated whether to steal out of 
 the inn, and seek another lodging, late as it was ; at last, 
 overcoming my fears, I threw my clothes into a heap, and 
 lay down, placing my heavy staff at the head of the bed. 
 Persons passed up and down the courtyard several times, 
 the light of their lamps streaming through the narrow aper- 
 ture up against the ceiling, and I distinctly heard voices, 
 which seemed to be near the door. Twice did I sit up in 
 bed, breathless, with my hand on the cane, in the most 
 intense anxiety ; but fatigue finally overcame suspicion, 
 and I sank into a deep sleep, from which I was gladly 
 awakened by daylight. In reality, there may have been no 
 cause for my fears — I may have wronged the lonely inn- 
 keepers by them ; but certainly no place or circumstances 
 ever seemed to me more appropriate to a deed of robbery or 
 crime, I left immediately, and when a turn in the street 
 hid the front of the ill-omened inn, I began to breathe with 
 my usual freedom. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 LEIPSIO AND DRESDENe 
 
 Magdeburg— Suspected Passengers— Leipsic— View of the Battle-Field— The Eosen- 
 thai — Schiller's Eoom— Auerbach's Cellar— Leipsic Publishers — Gerst acker— Charms 
 of Dresden— The Picture Gallery— The Madonna di San Sisto — Monument to 
 Moreau- The Eoyal Library— The Green Yaults— Cages of Gems— Eoyal Play- 
 things. 
 
 Dresden, May 11, 1845. 
 The delay occasioned by tlie bad weather obliged me to 
 take the railroad at Halberstadt, to keep the appointment 
 with my friend, in Leipsic. I left at six in the morning for 
 Magdeburg, and after two hours' ride over a dull, tiresome 
 plain, passed under the mounds and fortifications by the side 
 of the Elbe, and entered the old town. The day was very 
 cold, and the streets were muddy, so I contented myself 
 with looking at the Broadway, [der breite Weg,) the Cathe- 
 dral and one or two curious old churches, and with walking 
 along the parapet leading to the fortress, which has a view 
 of the winding Elbe. The Citadel was interesting from 
 having been the prison in which Baron Trenck was confined, 
 whose narrative I read years ago, when quite a child. 
 
195 
 
 We were soon on tlie road to Leipsic. The way was over 
 one great, uninterriipted plain — a more monotonous country, 
 even, than Belgmm. Two of the passengers with me in the 
 car were much annoyed at being taken by the railway 
 agents for Poles. Their movements were strictly watched 
 by the gensd'armes at every station we passed, and they 
 were not even allowed to sit together ! At Kothen a branch 
 track went off to Berlin. We passed by Halle without 
 being able to see anything of it or its University, and 
 reached Leipsic in four hours after leaving Magdeburg. 
 
 On my first walk around the city, the next morning, I passed 
 the Augustus Platz — a broad green lawn, on which front 
 the University and several other public buildings. A chain 
 of beautiful promenades encircles the city, on the site of its 
 old fortifications. Following their course through walks 
 shaded by large trees and bordered with flowering shrubs, I 
 passed a small but chaste monument to Sebastian Bach, the 
 composer, which was erected almost entirely at the private 
 cost of Mendelssohn, and stands opposite the building in 
 which Bach once directed the choirs. As I Avas standing 
 beside it, a glorious choral, swelled by a hundred voices, 
 came through the open windows, like a tribute to the genius 
 of the great master. 
 
 Having found my friend, who had arrived on the previous 
 day from Weimar and Jena, we went together to the Stern 
 Warte, or Observatory, which gives a fine view of the 
 country around the city, and in particular the battle-field. 
 The Castellan who is stationed there, is well acquainted 
 with the localities, and pointed out the position of the hostile 
 armies. It was one of the most bloody and hard-fought 
 
196 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 battles which history records. The army of l^apoleon 
 stretched like a semicircle around the southern and eastern 
 sides of the city, and the plain beyond was occupied by the 
 allies, whose forces met together here. Schwarzenburg, with 
 his Austrians, came from Dresden ; Blucher, from Halle, 
 with the Emperor Alexander. Their forces amounted to 
 three hundred thousand, while those of Napoleon ranked at 
 one hundred and ninety -two thousand men. It must have 
 been a terrific scene. The battle raged four days, and the 
 meeting of half a million of men in deadly conflict was 
 accompanied by the thunder of sixteen hundred cannon- 
 The small rivers which flow through Leipsic were swollen 
 with blood, and the vast plain was covered with upwards 
 of fifty thousand dead. It is difficult to conceive such 
 slaughter, while looking at the quiet and peaceful landscape 
 below. It seemed more like a legend of past ages, when 
 ignorance and passion led men to murder and destroy, than 
 an event which the last half century witnessed. For the 
 sake of humanity it is to be hoped that the world will never 
 see such another. 
 
 There are some lovely walks around Leipsic. We went 
 in the afternoon with a few friends to the Rosenthal, a 
 beautiful meadow, bordered by forests of the German oak, 
 very few of whose Druid trunks have been left standing. 
 There are Swiss cottages embowered in the. foliage, where 
 every afternoon the social citizens assemble to drink their 
 coffee and enjoy a few hours' escape from the noisy and 
 dusty streets. One can walk for miles along these lovely 
 paths by the side of the velvet meadows, or the banks of 
 some shaded stream. We visited the little village of Golis, 
 
LEIPSIC PUBLISHERS. 197 
 
 a short distance off, where, on the second story of a little 
 white house, hangs the sign, " Schiller's Eoom." Some of 
 the Leipsic literati have built a stone arch over the entrance, 
 with the inscription : " Here dwelt Schiller in 1795, and 
 wrote his Hymn to Joy." Everywhere through Germany 
 the remembrances of Schiller are sacred. In every city 
 where he lived, they show his dwelling. They know and 
 reverence the mighty spirit who has been among them. 
 
 Another interesting place in Leipsic is Auerbach's Cellar, 
 which, it is said, contains an old manuscript history of Faust, 
 from which Goethe derived the first idea of his poem. He 
 used to frequent this cellar, and one of his scenes in *' Faust " 
 is laid in it. We looked down the arched passage ; but not 
 wishing to purchase any wine, we could find no pretence for 
 entering. The streets of Leipsic abound with book stores, 
 and one half the business of the inhabitants appears to con- 
 sist in printing, paper-making and binding. The publishers 
 have a handsome Exchange of their own, and during the 
 Fairs, the amount of business transacted is enormous. The 
 establishment of Brockhaus is contained in an immense build- 
 ing, adjoining which stands his dwelling, in the midst of 
 magnificent gardens. That of Tauchnitz is not less exten- 
 sive. I became acquainted at the Museum, with Friedrich 
 Gerstacker, a young German author who has been some 
 time in America, and is well versed in our literature. He is 
 now engaged in translating American works, one of which 
 — Hoffman s " Wild Scenes of the Forest and Prairie " — will 
 soon appear. In no place in Germany have I found more 
 knowledge of our country, her men and her institutions, than 
 in Leipsic, and as yet I have seen few that would be prefer- 
 
198 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 able as a place of residence. Its attractions do not consist in 
 its scenery, but in tlie social and intellectual character of its 
 inhabitants. 
 
 We are now in the " Florence of the Elbe," as the Sax- 
 ons have christened Dresden. Exclusive of its galleries of 
 art, which are scarcely surpassed by any in Europe, Dresden 
 charms the traveller by the natural beauty of its environs. 
 It stands in a curve of the Elbe, in the midst of green mea- 
 dows, gardens, and fine old woods, with the hills of Saxony 
 sweeping around like an amphitheatre, and the craggy 
 peaks of the Highlands looking at it from afar. The domes 
 and spires at a distance give it a rich Italian look, which is 
 heightened by the white villas, embowered in trees, gleaming 
 on the hills around. In the streets there is no bustle of 
 business — nothing of the din and confusion of traffic which 
 mark most cities ; it seems like a place for study and quiet 
 enjoyment. 
 
 The railroad brought us in three hours from Leipsic, over 
 the eighty miles of plain that intervene. We came from the 
 station through the Neustadt, passing the Japanese Palace 
 and the equestrian statue of Augustus the Strong. The 
 magnificent bridge over the Elbe was so much injured by 
 the late inundation as to be impassable, and we were obliged 
 to go some distance up the river bank and cross on a bridge 
 of boats. Next morning my first search was for the Picture 
 Gallery. We set off at random, and after passing the 
 Church of Our Lady, with its lofty dome of solid stone, 
 which withstood the heaviest bombs during the war with 
 Frederick the Great, came to an open square, one side of 
 which was occupied by an old, brown, red- roofed build- 
 
THE MADON^TA DI SAN SISTO. 199 
 
 ing, which I at once recognized as the object of our 
 search. 
 
 I have just taken a last look at the gallery this morning, 
 and left it with real regret ; for, during the two visits, 
 Raphael's heavenly picture of the Madonna and Child had 
 so grown into my love and admiration, that it was painful 
 to think I should never see it again. There are many more 
 which clung so strongly to my imagination, gratifying in the 
 highest degree the love for the Beautiful, that I left them 
 with sadness, and the thought that I would now only have 
 the memory. I can see the inspired eye and god-like brow 
 of the Jesus-child, as if I were still standing before the 
 picture, and the sweet, holy countenance of the Madonna 
 still looks upon me. Yet, though this picture is a miracle of 
 art, the first glance filled me with disappointment. It has 
 somewhat faded, during the three hundred years that have 
 rolled away since the hand of Raphael worked on the can- 
 vas, and the glass with which it is covered for bettei 
 preservation, injures the effect. After I had gazed on it a 
 while, every thought of this vanished. The figure of the 
 Virgin seemed to soar in the air, and it was difficult to think 
 the clouds were not in motion. Two divine cherubs look up 
 from below, and in her arms sits the sacred child. Those 
 two faces beam from the picture like those of angels. The 
 dark, prophetic eye and pure brow of the young Jesus 
 chain one like a spell. There is something more than 
 mortal in its expression — something in that infant face which 
 indicates a power mightier than the proudest manhood. 
 There is no glory around the head ; but the spirit which 
 shines from those features, marks his divinity. In the 
 
200 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 sweet face of the mother a sorrowful foreboding mingles 
 with its tenderness, as if she knew the world mto which the 
 Saviour was born, and foresaw the path in which he was to 
 tread. It is a picture which one can scarce look upon with- 
 out tears. 
 
 The plain, south of Dresden, was the scene of the hard- 
 fought battle between Napoleon and the allied armies, in 1813. 
 On the heights above the little village of Racknitz, Moreau 
 was shot on the second day of the battle. We took a foot- 
 path through the meadows, shaded by cherry trees in bloom, 
 and reached the spot after an hour's walk. The monument 
 is simple — a square block of granite, surmounted by a hel- 
 met and sword, with the inscription : •* The hero Moreau fell 
 here by the side of Alexander ^ August 11th, 1 813." I gathered, 
 as a memorial, a few leaves of the oak which shades it. 
 
 By applying an hour before the appointed time, we ob- 
 tained admission to the Royal Library. It contains three 
 hundred thousand volumes — among them the most complete 
 collection of historical works in existence. Each hall is 
 devoted to a history of a separate country, and one large 
 room is filled with that of Saxony alone. There is a large 
 number of rare and curious manuscripts, among which are 
 old Greek works of the seventh and eighth centuries ; a Koran 
 which once belonged to the Sultan Bajazet ; the autographs 
 of Luther and Melancthon ; a manuscript volume with pen 
 and ink sketches, by Albert Diirer, and the earliest specimens 
 of the invention of printing. Among the latter was a book 
 published by Faust and Schaeffer, at Mayence, in 1457. 
 
 We were fortunate in seeing the Grime Gewolhe, or Green 
 Vaults, a collection of jewels and costly articles, unsurpassed 
 
THE GREEN VAULTS 201 
 
 in Europe. Admittarifee Is only granted to six persons at a 
 time, who pay a fee of two tlialers. The customary way is 
 to employ a Lohnbedientei-j who goes around from one hotel 
 to another, until he has collected the required number, when 
 he brings them together and conducts them to the keeper, 
 who has charge of the treasures. As our visit happened to 
 be during the Pentecost holidays, when every body in Dres- 
 den goes to the mountains, there was some difficulty in 
 effecting this, but after two mornings spent in hunting up 
 curious travellers, the servant finally conducted us in triumph 
 to the palace. The first hall into which we were ushered, 
 contained works in bronze. They were all small, and 
 chosen with regard to their artistical value. The next room 
 contained statues, and vases covered with reliefs, in ivory. 
 The most remarkable work was the fall of Lucifer and his 
 angels, containing ninety-two figures in all, carved out of a 
 single piece of ivory sixteen inches high ! *It was the work 
 of an Italian monk, and cost him many years of hard labor. 
 However costly the contents of these halls, they were, only 
 an introduction to those which followed. Each one exceeded 
 the other in splendor and costliness. The walls were covered 
 to the ceiling with rows of goblets, vases, &c., of polished 
 jasper, agate, and lapis lazuli. We saw two goblets, each 
 prized at six thousand thalers, made of gold and precious 
 stones ; also the great pearl called the Spanish Dwarf, near- 
 ly as large as a pullet's o^^^ ; globes and vases cut entirely 
 out of the mountain crystal ; magnificent Nuremberg watches 
 and clocks, and a great number of figures, made ingeniously 
 of rough pearls and diamonds. The seventh hall contains 
 the coronation robes of Augustus 11. of Poland, and many 
 9* 
 
202 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 costly specimens of carving in wood. A cherry-stone is 
 shown in a glass case, which has one hundred and twenty- 
 five faces, all perfectly finished, carved upon it ! The next 
 room we entered sent back a glare- of splendor that perfect- 
 ly dazzled us. It was all gold, diamond, ruby, and sapphire. 
 Every case sent out such a glow and glitter that it seemed 
 like a cage of imprisoned lightnings. Wherever the eye 
 turned it was met by a blaze of broken rainbows. They 
 were there by hundreds, and every gem was a fortune. 
 We here saw the largest known onyx, nearly seven inches 
 long and four inches broad ! One of the most remarkable 
 works is the throne and court of Aurungzebe, the Indian 
 king, by Dinglinger, a celebrated goldsmith of the last cen- 
 tury. It contains one hundred and thirty -two figures, all of 
 enamelled gold, and each one most perfectly and elaboimtely 
 finished. It was purchased by Prince Augustus for fifty- 
 eight thousand fhalers,* which was not an exorbitant sum, 
 considering that the making of it occupied Dinglinger and 
 thirteen workmen for seven years ! 
 
 It is almost impossible to estimate the value of the trea- 
 sures these halls contain. That of the gold and jewels 
 alone must be many millions of dollars, and the amount of 
 labor expended on these toys of royalty is incredible. As 
 monuments of patient and untiring toil, they are interesting : 
 but it is sad to think how much labor and skill and energy 
 have been wasted, in producing things which are useless to 
 the world, and only of secondary importance as works of art. 
 Perhaps, however, if men could be diverted by such play- 
 things from more dangerous games, it would be all the better. 
 
 * A Prussian or Saxon thaler is about 70 cts 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 RAMBLES IN THE SAXON SWITZERLAND. 
 
 Farewell to Dresden — The King of Saxony — Beauty of the Country — Sunken Glens— 
 The Uttewalder Grund — Precipice of the Bastei — Effects of the Inundation — The 
 Fortress of Konigstein — Anecdote of a Baron — A Mountain Valley — A Cascade 
 Show— The Kuhstall— The Little Winterberg— Cloudy Landscapes— The Prebisch- 
 thor— Entering Austria— Bohemian Scenery — The Battle-Field of Kulm— Tha 
 Baths of Teplitz— Plains of the Elbe— Distant View of Prague. 
 
 After four days' sojourn in Dresden we shouldered our 
 knapsacks, not to be laid down again until we reached 
 Prague. We were elated with the prospect of getting 
 among the hills again, and we heeded not the frequent 
 showers which had dampened the enjoyment of the Pente- 
 cost holidays for the good citizens of Dresden, and might 
 spoil our own. So we trudged gaily along the road to 
 Pillnitz, and waved an adieu to the domes behind us as the 
 forest shut them out from view. After two hours' walk the 
 road led down to the Elbe, where we crossed in a ferry- 
 boat to Pillnitz, the seat of a handsome palace and gardens, 
 belonging to the King of Saxony. He happened to be there 
 at the time, on an afternoon excursion from Dresden ; but 
 
^04' VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 as we had seen him before, in the latter place, we passed 
 directly on, only pausing to admire the flower-beds in the 
 palace court. The King is a tall, benevolent looking man, 
 Rnd is apparently much liked by his people. As far as I 
 have yet seen, Saxony is a prosperous and happy country. 
 The people are noted all over Germany for their honest, 
 social character, which is written on their cheerful, open 
 countenances. On our entrance into the Saxon Switzerland, 
 at Pillnitz, we were delighted with the neatness and home- 
 like appearance of the villages. Every body greeted us ; 
 if we asked for information, they gave it cheerfully. I felt 
 willing to say, in the words of an old ballad, which I believe 
 Longfellow has translated : 
 
 *' The fairest kingdom on this earth, 
 It is the Saxon land!" 
 
 Keeping the left bank of the Elbe, we passed over mea- 
 dows purple with the tri-colored violet, and every little bank 
 was bright with cowslips. At length the path led down into 
 a cleft or ravine filled with trees, whose tops were on a level 
 with the country around. This is a peculiar feature of 
 Saxon scenery. There are many of these clefts, some of 
 which are several hundred feet deep, having walls of per- 
 pendicular rock, in the crevices of which the mountain pine 
 roots itself and grows to a tolerable heig'ht without any 
 apparent soil to keep it alive. We descended by a foot-path 
 into this ravine, called the Liebethaler Grund. It is wider 
 than many of the others, having room enough for a consider- 
 able stream and several mills. The sides are of sandstone 
 rock, quite perpendicular. As we proceeded, it grew nar- 
 
THE UTTEW ALDER GRUND. 205 
 
 rower and deeper, wliile tlie trees covering its sides and 
 edges nearly shut out the sky. An hour's walk brought us 
 to the end, where we ascended gradually to the upper level 
 again. 
 
 After passing the night at the little village of Uttewalde, 
 a short distance further, we set out early in the morning for 
 the Bastei, a lofty precipice on the Elbe. The way led us 
 directly through the Uttewalder Grund, the most remarkable 
 of all these chasms. We went down by rocky steps into its 
 depths, which in the early morning were very cold. Water 
 dripped from the rocks, which, but a few feet anart. rose far 
 above us, and a little rill made its way along the bottom, 
 into which the sun has never shone. Heavy masses of rock, 
 which had tumbled down from the sides, encumbered the 
 way, and tall pine trees sprang from every cleft. In one 
 place the defile is only four feet wide, and a large mass of 
 rock, fallen from above, has lodged near the bottom, making 
 a low arch, under which the traveller has to creep. After 
 going under two or three arches of this kind, the defile 
 widened, and an arrow cut upon a rock directed us to a side 
 path, which branched oflf into the mountains. Here the 
 masses of stone immediately assumed another form. They 
 projected like shelves sometimes as much as twenty feet 
 from the perpendicular walls, and hung over the way, 
 threatening to break off every moment. I felt glad when 
 we had passed under them. Then, as we ascended further, 
 we saw pillars of rock separated entirely from the side of 
 the mountain, and rising a hundred feet in height, with trees 
 growing on their summits. They stood there gray and 
 time-worn, like the ruins of a Titan temple. 
 
206 VIEWS A.-FOOT. 
 
 The path finally led us out into the forest and through 
 the clustering pine trees, to the summit of the Bastei. An 
 inn has been erected in the woods, and an iron balustrade 
 placed around the rock. Protected by this, we advanced to 
 the end of the precipice and looked down on the swift Elbe, 
 more than seven hundred feet below! Opposite, through 
 the blue mists of morning, rose Konigstein, crowned with an 
 ^impregnable fortress, and the crags of Lilienstein, with a fine 
 forest around their base, frowned from the left bank. On 
 both sides were horrible precipices of gray rock, with rugged 
 trees hanging from the crevices. A hill rising on one side 
 of the Bastei, terminates suddenly a short distance from it, 
 in an abrupt precipice. In the intervening space stand 
 three or four of those rock-columns, several hundred feet 
 high, with their tops nearly on a level with the Bastei. A 
 wooden bridge has been thrown across from one to the 
 other, and the traveller passes over it, looking on the trees 
 and rocks far below him, until he reaches the hill, where a 
 steep zigzag path takes him down to the Elbe. 
 
 We crossed the river for the fourth time at the foot of the 
 Bastei, and walked along its right bank towards Konigstein. 
 The injury caused by the inundation was everywhere apparent. 
 The receding flood had left a deposit of sand, in many places 
 several feet deep, on the rich meadows, so that the labor of 
 years will be requisite to remove it and restore the land to 
 an arable condition. Even the farm-houses on the hillside, 
 some distance from the river, had been reached, and the 
 long grass hung in the highest branches of the fruit trees. 
 The people were at work trying to repair the injuries, but 
 they will fall heavily upon the poorer classes. 
 
THE FORTRESS OF KONIGSTEIN. 207 
 
 The mountain of Konigstein is twelve liundred feet high. 
 A precipice, varying from one to three hundred feet in 
 height, runs entirely round the summit, which is flat, and a 
 mile and a half in circumference. This has been converted into 
 a fortress, whose natural advantages make it entirely impreg- 
 nable. During the Thirty Years' War and the late war 
 with Napoleon, it was the only place in Saxony u^occupied 
 by the enemy. Hence it is used as a depository for the 
 archives and royal treasures, in times of danger. By giving 
 up our passports at the door, we received permission to 
 enter, and were furnished with a guide around the battle- 
 ments. There is quite a little village on the summit, with 
 gardens, fields, and a wood of considerable size. The only 
 entrance is by a road cut through the rock, which is strongly 
 guarded. A well seven hundred feet deep supplies the 
 fortress with water, and there are storehouses sufficient to 
 hold supplies for many years. The view from the ramparts 
 is glorious, embracing the whole of the Saxon Highlands, as 
 far as the lofty Schneeberg in Bohemia. On the other side, 
 the eye follows the windings of the Elbe, as far as the spires 
 of Dresden. Lilienstein, a mountain of exactly similar for- 
 mation, but somewhat higher, stands directly opposite. On 
 walking around the ramparts, the guide pointed out a little 
 square tower standing on the brink of a precipice, Avith a 
 ledge, about two feet wide, running around it, just below 
 the Avindows. He saidj that during the reign of Augustus 
 the Strong, a baron attached to his court, rose in his sleep 
 after a night of revelry and stepping out of the window, 
 stretched himself at full length along the ledge. A guard 
 fortunately observed his situation and informed Augustus 
 
208 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 of it, who had him bound and secured with cords, and tlien 
 awakened by music. It was a good lesson, and one which 
 no doubt sobered him for the future. 
 
 Passing through the little city of Konigstein, we walked 
 on to Schandau, the capital of the Saxon Switzerland, situ, 
 ated on the left bank. It had sustained great damage from 
 the flood,.the whole place having been literally under water. 
 Here we turned up a narrow valley which led to the Kuh- 
 stall, some eight miles distant. The mountain sides, as usual, 
 were of steep gray rock, but wide enough apart to give room 
 to some lovely meadows, with here and there a rustic cottage. 
 The mountain maidens, in their bright red dresses, with a 
 fanciful scarf bound around the head, made a romantic addi ■ 
 tion to the scene. There were some quiet secluded nooks, 
 where the light of day stole in dimly through the thick foli- 
 age above and the wild stream rushed less boisterously over 
 the rocks. We sat down to rest in one of these cool retreats, 
 and made the glen ring with a cheer for America. 
 
 As we advanced further into the hills the way became 
 darker and wilder. We heard the sound of falling water in 
 a little dell on one side, and going nearer, saw a picturesque 
 fall of about fifteen feet. Great masses of black rock were 
 piled together, over which the mountain-stream fell in a 
 snowy sheet. The pines above and around grew so thick 
 and close, that not a sunbeam could enter, and a mysterious 
 twilight pervaded the spot. In Greece it would have been 
 chosen for an oracle. I have seen, somewhere, a picture of 
 the Spirit of Poetry, sitting beside just such a cataract, and 
 truly the nymph could choose no more appropriate dwelling. 
 But alas for sentiment! while we were admiring its pic- 
 
THE KUHSTALL. 209 
 
 turesque beauty, we did not notice a man wlio came from a 
 near hut and went up behind the rocks. All at once there 
 was a roar of water, and a strong torrent came pouring down. 
 I looked up, and lo ! there he stood, with a gate in his hand 
 which had held the water imprisoned, looking down at us to 
 observe our admiration. I ordered him to shut it up again, 
 and he rejoined us in haste, lest he should lose his fee for 
 the sight. • 
 
 Our road now left the valley and ascended through a forest 
 to the Kuhstall, (Cow's Stable,) which we came upon at once. 
 It is a remarkable natural arch, through a rocky wall or 
 rampart, one hundred and fifty feet thick. Passing through, 
 we came at the other end to the edge of a very deep preci- 
 pice, while the rock towered abruptly far above. Below 
 us lay a deep circular valley, two miles in diameter, and sur- 
 rounded on every side by ranges of crags, such as we saw 
 on the Bastei. It was entirely covered with a pine forest, 
 and there only appeared to be two or three narrow defiles 
 which gave it a communication with the world. The top of 
 the Kuhstall can be reached by a path which runs up through 
 a split in the rock, directly to the summit. It is just wide 
 enough for one person to squeeze himself through ; pieces 
 of wood have been fastened in as steps, and the rocks in 
 many places close completely above. The place derives its 
 name from having been used by the mountaineers as a hiding- 
 place for their cattle in time of war. 
 
 Next morning we descended by another crevice in the 
 rock to the lonely valley, which we crossed, and climbed 
 the Little Winterberg on the opposite side. There is a wide 
 and rugged view from a tower on a precipitous rock near the 
 
210 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 summit, erected to commemorate the escape of Prince 
 Augustus of Saxony, who, being pursued by a mad stag, 
 rescued himself by a lucky blow when on the very brink. 
 Among the many wild valleys that lay between the hills, 
 we saw scarcely one without the peculiar rocky formation 
 which gives to Saxon scenery its most interesting character. 
 They resemble the remains of some mighty work of art, 
 rather than one of the thousand varied forms in which 
 Nature delights to clothe herself 
 
 The Great Winterberg, which is reached by another hour's 
 walk along an elevated ridge, is the highest of the moun- 
 tains, celebrated for the grand view from its summit. We 
 found the handsome Swiss hotel recently built there> full of 
 tourists who had come to enjoy the scene, but the morning 
 clouds hid every thing. We ascended the tower, and look- 
 ing between them as they rolled by, caught glimpses of the 
 broad landscape below. The G-iant's Mountains in Silesia 
 were hidden by the mist, but sometimes when the wind 
 freshened, we could see beyond the Elbe into Bohemian 
 Switzerland, where the long Schneeberg rose conspicuous 
 above the smaller mountains. Leaving the other travellers 
 to wait at their leisure for clearer weather, we set off for 
 the Prebischthor, in company with two or three students 
 from the Polytechnic School in Dresden. An hour's walk 
 over high hills, whose forest clothing had been swept off by 
 fire a few years before, brought us to the spot. 
 
 The Prebischthor is a natural arch, ninety feet high, in a 
 wall of rock which projects at right angles from the precipi- 
 tous side of the mountain. A narrow path leads over the 
 top of the arch to the end of the rock, where, protected by 
 
THE AUSTRIAN FRONTIER. 211 
 
 a railing, the traveller seems to hang in the air. The valley 
 is far below him — mountains rise up on either side — and onlj 
 the narrow bridge connects him with the earth. AYe 
 descended by a wooden staircase to the bottom of the arch, 
 near which a rustic inn is built against the rock, and thence 
 into the valley below, which we followed through rude and 
 lonely scenery, to Hirnischkretschen (!) on the Elbe. 
 
 Crossing the river again for the sixth and last time, we 
 followed the right bank to Neidergrund, the first Austrian 
 village. Here qur passports were vised for Prague, and we 
 were allowed to proceed without any examination of bag- 
 gage. I noticed a manifest change in our fellow travellers 
 the moment we crossed the border. They appeared anxious 
 and careful ; if we happened to speak of the state of the 
 country, they always looked around to see if anybody was 
 near, and if we even passed a workman on the road, quickly 
 changed to some other subject. They spoke much of the 
 jealous strictness of the government, and from what I heard 
 from Austrians themselves, there may have been ground 
 for their cautiousness. We walked seven or eight miles 
 along the bank of the Elbe, to Tetschen, there left our com- 
 panions and took the road to Teplitz. I was pleasantly dis- 
 appointed on entering Bohemia. Instead of a dull, uninter- 
 esting country, as I expected, it is a land full of the most 
 lovely scenery. There is every thing which can gratify 
 the eye— -high blue mountains, valleys of the sweetest pas- 
 toral aspect, and romantic old ruins. The very name of 
 Bohemia is associated with wild and wonderful legends, of 
 the rude barbaric ages. Even the chivalric tales of the 
 feudal times of Germany grow tame beside these earlier and 
 
212 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 darker Mstorles. The fallen fortresses of the Ehine, or the 
 robber-castles of the Odenwald, had not for me so exciting 
 an interest as the shapeless ruins cumbering these lonely 
 mountains. The civilized Saxon race was left behind ; I 
 saw around me the features and heard the language of one 
 of those rude Sclavonic tribes, whose original home was on 
 the vast steppes of Central Asia. I have rarely enjoyed 
 travelling more than our first two days' journey toAvards 
 Prague. The range of the Erzgebirge ran along on our 
 right ; the snow still lay in patches upon it, but the valleys 
 between, with their little clusters of white cottages, were 
 green and beautiful. 
 
 About six miles before reaching Teplitz, we passed Kulm, 
 the great battle-field, which in a measure decided the fate of 
 Napoleon. He sent Vandamme with 40,000 men to attack 
 the allies before they could unite their forces, and thus effect 
 their complete destruction. Only the almost despairing 
 bravery of the Russian guards under Ostermann, who held 
 him in check until the allied troops united, defeated Napo- 
 leon's design. At the junction of the roads, where the fight- 
 ing was hottest, the Austrians have erected a monument to 
 one of their generals. Not far from it is that of Prussia, 
 simple and tasteful. A woody hill near, with the little vil- 
 lage of Kulm at its foot, was the "station occupied by 
 Vandamme at the commencement of the battle. There is 
 now a beautiful chapel on its summit, which can be seen far 
 and wide. A little distance further, the Emperor of Russia 
 has erected a third monument to the memory of the Rus- 
 sians who fell. Four lions rest on the base of the pedestal, 
 and on the top of the shaft, forty-five feet high, Victory is 
 
THE BATHS OF TEPLITZ. 213 
 
 represented as engraving tlie date, ** Aug. 30, 1813," on a 
 shield. The dark, pine -covered mountains on the right, 
 overlook the whole field and the valley of Teplitz ; Napo- 
 leon rode along their crests several days after the battle, to 
 witness the scene of his defeat. 
 
 Teplitz lies in a lovely valley, several miles wide, bounded 
 by the Bohemian mountains on one side, and the Erzgebirge 
 on the other. One straggling peak is crowned with a pic- 
 turesque ruin, at whose foot the spacious bath-buildings lie 
 half hidden in foliage. As we walked down the principal 
 street, I noticed that nearly every house was a hotel ; in 
 summer the usual average of visitors is five thousand. The 
 waters resemble those of the celebrated Carlsbad ; they are 
 warm, and particularly efficacious in rheumatism and diseases 
 of like character. After leaving Teplitz, the road turned 
 to the east, towards a lofty mountain, which we had seen 
 the morning before. The peasants, as they passed by, salut- 
 ed us with ** Christ greet you !" 
 
 "We stopped for the night at the foot of the peak called 
 the Milleschauer, and must have ascended nearly 2,000 feet, 
 for we had a wide view the next morning, although the mists 
 and clouds hid the half of it. The weather being so un- 
 favorable, we decided not to ascend, and taking leave of the 
 Jena student who -came there for that purpose, descended 
 through green fields and orchards snowy with blossoms, to 
 Lobositz, on the Elbe. Here we reached the plains again, 
 where every thing wore the luxuriance of summer, and it 
 was a pleasant change from the dark and rough scenery we 
 had left. The road passed through Theresienstadt, the for- 
 tress of Northern Bohemia. The little city is surrounded 
 
214 VIEWS A-rooT. 
 
 by a double wall and moat, which can be filled with water, 
 rendering it almost impregnable. In the morning we were 
 ferried over the Moldau, and after journeying nearly all day 
 across barren, elevated plains, saw late in the afternoon the 
 sixiy-seven spires of Prague below us ! The dark clouds 
 which hung over the hills, gave us little time to look upon 
 the singular scene ; and we were soon comfortably settled 
 in the half-barbaric, half- Asiatic city, with a pleasant pros- 
 pect of seeing its wonders on the morrow. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 SCENES IN PRAGUE. 
 
 Impressions of Prague— Past and Present — The Moldan Bridge— Johannes of Nepo- 
 muck — A. Day Dream — The Cathedral — The Shrine of Nepomuck — Jesuitical 
 Music — ^An Attack of Jews — The Old Hebrew Cemetery. 
 
 Prague, Mai/, 1845. 
 I FEEL as if out of the world in this strange, fantastic, yet 
 beautiful old city. We have been rambling all morning 
 through its winding streets, stopping sometimes at a church 
 to see the dusty tombs and shrines, or to hear the fine music 
 which accompanies the morning mass. I have seen no city 
 yet which so forcibly reminds me of the Past. The lan- 
 guage adds to the illusion. Three-fourths of the people in 
 the streets speak Bohemian, and many of the signs are 
 written in the same tongue, which has no resemblance to 
 German. The palace of the Bohemian kings still looks 
 down on the city from the western heights, and their tombs 
 stand in the Cathedral of the holy Johannes. When one 
 has climbed the stone steps leading to the fortress, there is a 
 glorious prospect before him. Prague with her spires and 
 
216 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 towers, lies in the valley below, through which curves the 
 Moldau around its green islands until it disappears among 
 the northern hills. The fantastic Byzantine architecture of 
 many of the churches and towers, gives the place a peculiar 
 oriental appearance. They seem to have been transported 
 hither from Persia or Tartary. Its streets are full of 
 palaces, fallen and inhabited now by the poorer classes. Its 
 famous University, which once boasted forty thousand stu- 
 dents, has long since ceased to exist. In a word, it is, like 
 Venice, a fallen city ; though, as in Venice, the improving 
 spirit of the age is beginning to give it a little life, and to 
 send a quicker stream through its narrow and winding 
 arteries. The railroad which, joining that to Brunn, con- 
 nects it with Vienna, will be finished this year; and in 
 anticipation of the increased business which will follow, 
 speculators are building enormous hotels in the suburbs and 
 tearing down the old buildings to give place to more 
 splendid edifices. These operations, and the chain bridge 
 w^hich spans the Moldau towards the southern end of the 
 city, are the only things which are modern — everything 
 else is old, strange and solemn. 
 
 Having first determined a few of the principal points, we 
 wandered through its difficult labyrinths, seeking every place 
 of note or interest. Reaching the bridge at last, we decided 
 to cross and ascend to the Hradschin — the palace of the Bohe- 
 mian kings. The bridge was commenced in 1357, and was 
 not finished for a hundred and fifty years. Such w^as the way 
 the old Germans did their work, and they made a structure 
 which will last a thousand years longer. Every pier is sur- 
 mounted with groups of saints and martyrs, all so worn and 
 
THE MOLDAU BRIDGE. 217 
 
 weatlier-beaten, that there is little left of their beauty, if 
 they ever had any. The most important of them, at least 
 to Bohemians, is that of the holy "Johannes of Nepomuck,'* 
 now considered as the patron-saint of the land. Many cen- 
 turies ago he was a priest whom one of the kings threw from 
 the bridge into the Moldau, because he refused to reveal to 
 him what the q[ueen confessed. The legend says the body 
 swam for some time on the river, with five stars around its 
 head. The 16th of May, the day before our arrival, was 
 that set apart for his particular honor ; the statue on the 
 bridge was covered with an arch of green boughs and flow- 
 ers, and the shrine lighted with burning tapers. A railing 
 was erected around it, near which numbers of the believers 
 were kneeling. The bridge was covered with passers-by, 
 who all took their hats off until they had passed. Had it 
 been a place of worship, the act would have been natural 
 and appropriate, but to uncover before a statue seemed to us 
 too much like idolatry, and we ventured over without doing 
 it. A few years ago it might have been dangerous, but now 
 we only met with scowling looks. There are many such 
 shrines and statues through the city, and I noticed that the 
 people always removed their hats and crossed themselves in 
 passing. On the hill above the western end of the city, 
 stands a chapel on the spot where the Bavarians put an end 
 to Protestantism in Bohemia hy the sword, and the deluded 
 peasantry of the land make pilgrimages t3 this spot, as if it 
 were rendered holy by an act over which Religion weeps ! 
 
 Ascending the broad flight of steps to the Hradschin, I 
 paused a moment to gaze upon the scene below. A slight 
 blue haze hung over the clustering towers, and the city glim- 
 10 
 
218 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 mered througli it, like a city seen in a dream. It was well 
 that it should so appear, for not less dim and misty are the 
 memories that haunt its walls. There was no need of a 
 magician's wand to bid that light cloud shadow forth the 
 forms of other times. They came uncalled for, even by fancy. 
 Ear, far back in the past, I saw the warrior-priocess who 
 founded the kingly city — the renowned Libussa, whose 
 prowess and talent inspired the women of Bohemia to rise 
 at her death and storm the land, that their sex might rule 
 where it obeyed before. On the mountain opposite once 
 stood the palace of the bloody Wlaska, who reigned with 
 her Amazon band for seven years over half Bohemia. Those 
 streets below had echoed with the fiery words of Huss, 
 the castle of whose follower — the blind Ziska, who met 
 and defeated the armies of the German Empire — moulders 
 on the mountain above. Many a year of war and tempest 
 has passed over the scene. The hills around have borne the 
 armies of Wallenstein and Erederick the Great ; the war-cries 
 of Bavaria, Sweden and Poland have echoed in the valley, 
 and the glare of the midnight cannon or the flames of burning 
 palaces have often reddened the blood-dyed waters of the 
 Moldau ! 
 
 But this was a day-dream. The throng of people coming 
 up the steps awaked me. We turned and followed the 
 crowd through several spacious courts, until we reached the 
 Cathedral, which is magnificent in the extreme. The dark 
 Gothic pillars, whose arches unite high above, are surround- 
 ed with gilded monuments and shrines, and the side chapels 
 are rich in elaborate decorations. A priest was speaking 
 from a pulpit in the centre, in the Bohemian language, 
 
THE SHRINE OF NEPOMUCK. 219 
 
 which not being the most intelligible, I went to the other 
 end to see the shrine of the holy Johannes of Nepomuck. 
 It stands at the end of one of the side aisles, and is composed 
 of a mass of gorgeous silver ornaments. At a little distance, 
 on each side, hang four massive lamps of silver, constantly 
 burning. The pyramid of statues, of the same precious 
 metal, has at each corner a richly carved urn, three feet 
 high, with a crimson lamp burning at the top. Above, four 
 silver angels, the size of life, are suspended in the air, hold- 
 ing up the corners of a splendid drapery of crimson and 
 gold. If these figures were melted down and distributed 
 among the poor and miserable people who inhabit Bohemia, 
 they would then be angels indeed, bringing happiness and 
 blessing to many a. ruined home-altar. In the same chapel 
 is the splendid burial-place of the Bohemian kings, of gilded 
 marble and alabaster. On our return to the bridge, we 
 stepped into the St. Nicholas Church, which was built by 
 the Jesuits. The interior has a rich effect, its colors being 
 only brown and gold. The music chained me there a long 
 time. There was a grand organ, assisted by a full orchestra 
 and large choir of singers. At every sound of the priest's 
 bell, the flourish of trumpets and deep roll of the drums 
 filled the dome with a burst of quivering sound, while the 
 giant pipes of the organ breathed out their full harmony 
 and the very air shook under the peal. It was a triumphal 
 strain ; the soul became filled with thoughts of power and 
 glory, and the senses were merged into one dim, indistinct 
 emotion of rapture. I could almost forgive the Jesuits the 
 superstition and bigotry they have planted in the minds of 
 men, for the indescribable enjoyment that music gave. 
 
220 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 When it ceased, we went out to the world again, and the 
 recollection of it is now but a dream — a dream whose 
 influence will last longer than many a more palpable 
 reality. 
 
 There is another part of Prague which is not less interest- 
 ing, though much less poetical — the Jews' City. In our 
 rambles we got into it before we were aware, but hurried 
 immediately out of it again, perfectly satisfied with one visit. 
 We entered first a dark, narrow street, whose sides were 
 lined with booths of old clothes and second-hand articles. 
 A sharp-featured old woman thrust a coat before my face, 
 exclaiming, " Herr, buy a fine coat !" Instantly a man as- 
 sailed me on the other side, " Here are vests ! pantaloons ! 
 shirts !" I broke loose from them and ran on, but it only 
 became worse. One seized me by the arm, crying, " Lie- 
 her Herr, buy some stockings !" and another grasped my 
 coat ; " Hats, Herr ! hats ! bui/ something, or sell me some- 
 thing T^ I rushed desperately on, shouting "no! no!" 
 with all my might, and finally got safely through. My 
 friend having escaped their clutches also, we found our way 
 to the old Jewish Cemetery. It stands in the middle of the 
 city, and has not been used for a hundred years. We 
 could find no entrance, but by climbing upon the ruins of 
 an old house near, I looked over the wall. A cold shudder 
 crept over me, to think that warm, joyous Life, as I then felt 
 it, should grow chill and pass back to clay in such a foul char- 
 nel-house. Large mounds of earth, covered with black, de- 
 caying grave-stones, which were almost hidden under the 
 weeds and rank grass, filled the enclosure. A few dark, 
 crooked alder-trees grew among the crumbling tombs, and 
 
THE HEBREW CEMETERY. 221 
 
 gave the scene an air of gloom and desolation, almost fear- 
 ful. The dust of many a generation lies under these mould- 
 ering stones ; they now scarcely occupy a thought in the 
 minds of the living ; and yet the present race toils and seeks 
 for wealth alone, that it may pass away and leave nothing 
 behind — not even a memory for that which will follow ! 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 JOURNEY THROUGH BOHEMIA AND MORAVIA. 
 
 The Scenery of Bohemia— The Inhabitants— Wayside Shrines— Disgusting Images- 
 Devotion of the People— Iglau— The Peasant Girls— Bohemian Teams— A Religious 
 Pageant— A New Companion — His Astonishment— Lodging with the Lancers — The 
 City of Znaim — Talk with the Handwerker — Rain — A Drunken Baron—Summer 
 Scenery— First View of the Alps— The Valley of the Danube— Arrival at Vienna. 
 
 Our road for the first two days after leaving Prague led 
 across broad, elevated plains, over which a cold wind came 
 direct from the summits of the Eiesengebirge, far to our left. 
 Were it not for the pleasant view of the rich valley of the 
 Upper Elbe, which afforded a delightful relief to the mono- 
 tony of the hills around us, the journey would have been 
 exceedingly tiresome. The snow still glistened on the dis- 
 tant mountains ; but when the sun shone out, the broad val- 
 ley below, clad in the luxuriance of summer, and extending 
 for at least fifty miles with its woods, meadows, and white 
 villages, was like a glimpse of Paradise. The long ridges 
 over which we travelled extended for nearly a hundred and 
 fifty miles — from the Elbe almost to the Danube. The 
 soil is not fertile, the inhabitants are exceedingly poor, and 
 
BOHEMIA AND ITS PEOPLE. 223 
 
 from our own experience, the climate must be unhealthy. 
 In winter the country is exposed to the full sweep of the 
 northern winds, and in summer the sun shines down on it 
 with unbroken force. There are few streams running through 
 it ; and the highest part, which divides the waters of the Baltic 
 from those of the Black Sea, is filled for a long distance with 
 marshes and standing pools, whose exhalations must inevi- 
 tably subject the inhabitants to disease. This was percepti- 
 ble in their sallow, sickly countenances ; many of the women 
 are afflicted with the goitre, or swelling of the throat ; and I 
 noticed that towards evening they always carefully muffled 
 up their faces. According to their own statements, the 
 people suffer much from the cold in winter, as the few forests 
 the country affords are in possession of the noblemen to 
 whom the la»d belongs, and who are not willing the trees 
 should be cut. The dominions of these petty despots are 
 marked along the road with as much precision as the bound- 
 aries of an empire. We saw sometimes their stately castles 
 at a distance, forming quite a contrast to the poor scattering 
 villages of the peasants. 
 
 At Kdllin, the road, which had been leading eastward in 
 the direction of Olmiitz, turned to the south, and we took 
 leave of the Elbe after tracing back his course from Magde- 
 burg nearly to his home in the mountains of Silesia. The 
 country was barren and monotonous, but a bright sunshine 
 made it look somewhat cheerful. We passed, every few 
 paces, some shrine or statue by the roadside. This had 
 struck me, immediately on crossing the border, in the Saxon 
 Switzerland — the boundary of Saxony was that of Protest- 
 antism. But here in the heart of Bohemia, the extent to 
 
224 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 wliich this image worship is carried, exceeds anything I had 
 imagined. There is something pleasing as well as poetical 
 in the idea of a shrine by the wayside, where the weary tra- 
 veller may rest, and lift his heart in thankfulness to the 
 Power which protects him ; it was no doubt a pious spirit 
 which placed them there ; but the people appear to pay the 
 reverence to the picture which they should give to its spi- 
 ritual image, and the pictures themselves are so shocking 
 and ghastly, that they seem better calculated to excite hor- 
 ror than reverence. It is truly repulsive to look on images 
 of the Saviour covered with blood, and generally with 
 swords sticking in different parts of the body. The Al- 
 mighty is represented as an old man, wearing a Bishop's 
 mitre, and the Virgin always wears a gay silk robe, v<^ith 
 beads and other ornaments. From the miserable painting, , 
 the faces often have an expression that would have been 
 exceedingly ludicrous, if the shock given to our feelings of 
 reverence were not predominant. The poor degraded pea- 
 sants always uncovered or crossed themselves when passing 
 by these shrines, but it appeared to be rather the effect of 
 habit than any good impulse, for the Bohemians are noted 
 all over Germany for their dishonesty, and we learned by 
 experience that they deserve it. It is not to be wondered 
 at, either ; for a people so poor and miserable and oppressed 
 will soon learn to take advantage of all who appear better 
 off than themselves. They had one custom which was touch- 
 ing and beautiful. At the sound of the church -bell, as it 
 rang the morning, noon and evening chimes, every one 
 uncovered, and repeated to himself a prayer. Often, as we 
 rested at noon on a bank by the roadside, that voice spoke 
 
PEASANT GIRLS. 225 
 
 out from tlie liouse of worship, and every one heeded its tone. 
 Would that to this innate spirit of reverfence were added 
 the light of Knowledge, which a tyrannical government 
 denies them ! 
 
 On the third night of our journey we stopped at the little 
 village of Stecken, and the next morning, after three hours' 
 walk over the ridgy heights, reached the old Moravian city 
 of Iglau, built on a hill. It happened to be Corpus Christi 
 day, and the peasants of the neighborhood were hastening 
 there in their gayest dresses. The young women wore a 
 crimson scarf around the head, with long fringed and em- 
 broidered ends hanging over the shoulders, or falling in one 
 smooth fold from the crown. They were attired in black 
 velvet vests, with full white sleeves, and skirts of some 
 gay color, which were short enough to show to advan- 
 tage their red stockings and polished shoe-buckles. Many 
 of them were not deficient in personal beauty, and there 
 was a gipsy-like wildness in their eyes, which, combined 
 with their rich hair and graceful costume, reminded me of the 
 Italian maidens. The towns, too, with their open squares 
 and arched passages, have quite a southern look ; but the 
 damp, gloomy weather was enough to dispel any illusion 
 of this kind. 
 
 In the tieighborhood of Iglau, and, in fact, through the 
 whole of Bohemia, we saw some of the strangest teams that 
 could well be imagined. I thought the Frankfort milk^ 
 women, with their donkeys and hearse-like carts, comical 
 objects enough, but they bear no comparison with these 
 Bohemian turn-outs. Dogs — for economy's sake, perhaps — ■ 
 generally supply the place of oxen or horses, and it is no 
 10* 
 
226 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 uncommon thing to see three large mastiffs abreast, har- 
 nessed to a couAtry-cart. A donkey and a cow together, 
 are sometimes met with : and one man, going to the festival 
 of Iglau, had his wife and children in a little wagon, drawn 
 by a dog and a donkey. These two, however, did not 
 work well together ; the dog would bite his lazy companion, 
 and the man's time was constantly employed in whipping 
 him off the donkey, and in whipping the donkey away from 
 the side of the road. Once I saw a wagon drawn by a dog, 
 with a woman pushing behind, while a man, doubtless her 
 lord and master, sat comfortably within, smoking his pipe 
 with the greatest complacency ! The very climax of all 
 was a woman and a dog harnessed together, taking a load 
 of country produce to market ! I hope, for the horor of the 
 country, it was not emblematic of woman's condition there. 
 But as we saw hundreds of them breaking stone along the 
 road, and occupied at other laborious and not less menial 
 labor, there is too much reason to fear that it is so. 
 
 As we approached Iglau, we heard the sound of cannon ; 
 the crowd increased, and following the road, we came to an 
 open square, where a large number were already assembled ; 
 shrines were erected around it, hung with pictures and pine 
 boughs, and a long procession of children was passing down 
 the side as we entered. We went towards the centre, 
 where Neptune and his Tritons poured the Avater from 
 their urns into two fountains, and stopped to observe the 
 scene. The procession came on, headed by a large body 
 of priests, in white robes, with banners and crosses. They 
 stopped before the principal shrine, in front of the Rathhaus, 
 and began a solemn religious ceremony. The whole crowd 
 
A NEW COMPANION. 227 
 
 of not less tlian ten thousand persons, stood silent and 
 uncovered, and the deep voice of the officiating priest was 
 heard over the whole square. At times the multitude sang 
 responses, the sound swelling and rolling up like a mighty- 
 wave, until it broke and slowly sank down again to the 
 deepest stillness. The effect was marred by the rough voices 
 of the officers commanding the soldiery, and the volleys of 
 musketry which were occasionally discharged, degrading 
 the solemnity of the pageant to the level of a military 
 parade. 
 
 In the afternoon we were overtaken by a travelling hand- 
 werlie:\ on his way to Vienna, who joined company with us. 
 We walked several miles together, talking on various mat- 
 ters, without his having the least suspicion that we were not 
 Germans. He had been at Trieste, and at length began 
 speaking of the great beauty of the American vessels there, 
 *' Yes," said I, *' our vessels are admired all over the world." 
 He stared at me without comprehending ; — " your vessels ?'* 
 " Our country's," I replied; " we are Americans !" I can 
 still see his look of incredulous astonishment, and hear the 
 amazed tone with which he cried, *' You Americans — it is 
 impossible !" We convinced him nevertheless, to his great 
 joy, for all through Germany there is a curiosity to see our 
 countrymen and a kindly feeling towards them. " I shall 
 write down in my book," said he, " so that I shall never 
 forget it, that I once travelled with two Americans !" We 
 stopped together for the night at the only inn in a large, 
 beggarly village, where we obtained a frugal supper with 
 difficulty ; for a regiment of Polish lancers was quartered 
 there for the night, and the pretty Kellnerin was so busy in 
 
228 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 waiting on the officers that slie had no eye for wandering 
 journeymen, as she took us to be. She even told us the 
 beds were all occupied and we must sleep on the floor. 
 Just then the landlord came by. " Is it possible, Herr 
 Landlord," asked our new companion, " that there is no bed 
 here for us ? Have the goodness to look again, for we are 
 not in the habit of sleeping on the floor, like dogs ! " This 
 speech had its effect, for the Kellnerin was commanded to 
 find us beds. She came back unwillingly after a time, 
 and reported that two only were vacant. As a German bed 
 is only a yard wide, we pushed these two together, but they 
 were still too small for three persons, and I had a severe 
 cold in the morning, from sleeping crouched up against the 
 damp wall. 
 
 The next day we passed the dividing ridge which sepa- 
 rates the waters of the Elbe from the Danube, and in the 
 evening arrived at Znaim, the capital of Moravia. The city 
 is built on a steep hill looking down on the valley of the 
 Thaya, whose waters mingle with the Danube near Press- 
 burg. The old castle on the height was formerly the resi- 
 dence of the Moravian monarchs, and traces of the ancient 
 walls and battlements of the city are still to be seen. The 
 handwerker took us to the inn frequented by his craft — the 
 leather-curriers — and we conversed together until bed-time. 
 While telling me of the oppressive laws of Austria, the 
 degrading vassalage of the peasants, and the horrors of 
 the conscription system, he paused as in deep thought, and 
 looking at me with a suppressed sigh, said, " Is it not true, 
 America is free ? " I told him of our country and her insti- 
 tutions, adding that though we wejre rot yet as free as we 
 
A DRUNKEN BARON. 229 
 
 hoped and wished to be, we enjoyed far more liberty than 
 any country in the world. ** Ah ! " said he, " it is hard to 
 leave one's fatherland, oppressed as it is, but I wish I could 
 go to America ! " 
 
 We left next morning at eight o'clock, after having done 
 full justice to the beds of the "Golden Stag," and taken 
 leave of Florian Francke, the honest and hearty old land- 
 lord. Znaim appears to great advantage from the Vienna 
 road ; but the wind which blew with fury against our backs, 
 would not permit us to look long at it, but pushed us on 
 towards the Austrian border. In the course of three hours 
 we were obliged to stop at a little village ; it blew a hurri- 
 cane, and the rain began to soak through our garments. 
 Here we stayed three hours among the wagoners, who 
 had stopped on account of the weather. One miserable, 
 drunken wretch, whose face was disgustingly brutal and 
 repulsive, distinguished himself by insulting those around 
 him, and devouring like a beast, large quantities of food. 
 When the reckoning was given him, he declared he had al- 
 ready paid, and on the waiter denying it, said, " Stop, I will 
 show you something!" pulled out his passport and pointed 
 to the name — " Baron von Reitzenstein." It availed nothing ; 
 he had fallen so low that his title inspired no respect, and 
 when we left the inn they were still endeavoring to get their 
 money, and threatening him with a summary proceeding if 
 the demand was not complied with. 
 
 Next morning the sky was clear, and a glorious day opened 
 before us. The country became more beautiful as we ap- 
 proached the Danube ; the hills were covered with vine- 
 yards, just in the tender green of their first leaves, and the 
 
230 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 rich valleys lay in Sabbath stillness in the warm sunshine. 
 Sometimes from an eminence we could see far and wide over 
 the garden-like slopes, where little white villages shone 
 among the blossoming fruit-trees. A chain of blue hills arose 
 in front, and I knew almost instinctively that they stood by 
 the Danube ; but when we climbed to the last height and 
 began to descend to the valley, where the river was still 
 hidden by luxuriant groves, I saw far to the southwest, a 
 range of faint, silvery summits, rising through the dim ether 
 like an airy vision. There was no mistaking those snowy 
 mountains. My heart bounded with a sudden thrill of rap- 
 turous excitement at this first view of the Alps ! They were 
 at a great distance, and their outline was almost blended with 
 the blue drapery of air which clothed them. I gazed until 
 my vision became dim, and I could no longer trace their airy 
 lines. They called up images blended with the grandest 
 events in the world's history. I thought of the glorious 
 spirits who have looked upon them and trodden their rugged 
 sides — of the storms in which they veil their countenances, 
 and the avalanches they hurl thundering to the valleys — of 
 the voices of great deeds, which have echoed from their 
 crags over the wide earth — and of the ages which have 
 broken, like the waves of a mighty sea, upon their ever- 
 lasting summits ! 
 
 As we descended, the hills and forests shut out this sub- 
 lime vision, and I looked to the wood-clothed mountains 
 opposite and tried to catch a glimpse of the current that roll- 
 ed at their feet. We here entered upon a rich plain, about 
 ten miles in diameter, which lay between a backward sweep 
 of the hills and a curve of the Danube. It was covered 
 
ARRIVAL AT VIENNA. 231 
 
 with the richest grain, every thing wore the luxuriance of 
 summer, and we seem to have changed seasons since 
 leaving the dreary hills of Bohemia. Continuing over the 
 plain, we had on our left the fields of Wagram and Essling, 
 the scene of two of Napoleon's splendid victories. The out- 
 posts of the Carpathians skirted the horizon — that great 
 mountain range which stretches through Hungary to the 
 borders of Russia. 
 
 At length the road came to the river's side, and we crossed 
 on wooden bridges over two or three arms of the Danube, 
 all of which together were little wider than the Schuylkill 
 at Philadelphia. When we crossed the last bridge, we 
 came to an island covered with groves of the silver ash. 
 Crowds of people filled the cool walks ; booths of refresh- 
 ment stood by the roadside, and music was everywhere 
 heard. The road finally terminated in a circle, where 
 beautiful alleys radiated into the groves ; from the opposite 
 side a broad street lined with stately buildings extended 
 into the heart of the city, and through this avenue, filled 
 with crowds of carriages and people on their >vay to those 
 delightful walks, we entered Vienna ! 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 VIENNA. 
 
 Vienna— The Ferdinand's Bridge— The Streets— The Old City— The Suburbs— Beau- 
 ty of the Prater— St. Stephen's Cathedral— The Belvidere Gallery— The Lower 
 Belvidere — Historical Eelics — The Eespectful Custode— The Iron Stick — Strauss 
 and his Band — The Tomb of Beethoven— Galleries of Art— The Imperial Library 
 — Cabinet of Natural History — State Carriages of Austria — Prince Liechtenstein's 
 Gallery — Correggio's Venus and Cupid — The Imperial Armory— The Crusty Custode 
 — A Pole — Eelics cf the Past — Banners of the Crusaders— A Scene at the Police 
 Office — Light Hearts and Empty Purses. 
 
 Vienna, May 31, 1845. 
 I HAVE at last seen the thousand wonders of this great capi- 
 tal — this German Paris — this connecting link between the 
 civilization of Europe and the barbaric magnificence of the 
 East. It is pleasant to be again in a city whose streets are 
 thronged with people, and resound with the din and bustle 
 of business. Although the end may be sordid for which so 
 many are laboring, yet the very sight of so much activity is 
 gratifying. It is peculiarly so to an American. After 
 residing in a foreign land for sometime, the peculiarities of 
 our nation are more easily noticed ; I find in my countrymen 
 abroad a vein of restless energy — a love for exciting action 
 
THE STREETS OF VIENNA. 233 
 
 t 
 
 — which to many of our good German friends is perfectly- 
 incomprehensible. It may have been this activity which 
 gave me at once a favorable impression of Vienna. 
 
 The morning of our arrival we sallied out from our lodg- 
 ings in the Leopoldstadt, to explore the world before us. 
 Entering the broad Praterstrasse, we passed down to the 
 little arm of the Danube, which separates this part of the 
 new city from the old. A row of magnificent coffee-houses 
 occupies the bank, and numbers of persons were taking their 
 breakfasts in the shady porticoes. The Ferdinand's Bridge, 
 which crosses the stream, was filled with people ; and in the 
 motley crowd we saw the dark-eyed Greek, and Turks in 
 their turbans and flowing robes. Little brown Hungarian 
 boys were selling bunches of lilies, and Italians with baskets 
 of oranges stood by the sidewalk. The throng became 
 greater as we penetrated into the old city. The streets 
 were filled with carts and carriages, and as there are no 
 side-walks, it required constant attention to keep out of their 
 way. Splendid shops, fitted up with great taste, occupied 
 the whole of the lower stories, and goods of all kinds hung 
 beneath the canvas awnings in front of them. Almost 
 every store or shop was dedicated to some particular person 
 or place, which was represented on a large panel by the 
 door. The number of these paintings added much to the 
 brilliancy of the scene ; and I was gratified to find, among 
 the images of kings and dukes, one dedicated " to the Ameri- 
 cauy^ with an Indian chief in full costume. 
 
 The Altstadt, or old city, which contains about sixty 
 thousand inhabitants, is completely separated from the sub- 
 urbs, the population of which, taking the whole extent within 
 
234 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 the outer b.arrier, numbers nearly half a million. The old 
 city is situated on a small arm of the Danube, and is encom- 
 passed by a series of public promenades, gardens and walks, 
 varying from a quarter to half a mile in length, called the 
 Glacis. This once formed part of the fortifications of the 
 city, but as the suburbs grew up so rapidly on all sides, it 
 was appropriately changed to a public walk. It is a beauti- 
 ful sight, to stand on the summit of the wall and look over 
 the broad Glacis, with its shady roads branching in every 
 direction, and filled with inexhaustible streams of people. 
 The Vorstaedte, or new cities, stretch in a circle around, 
 beyond this ; all the finest buildings front on the Glacis, 
 among which the splendid Vienna Theatre and the church 
 of San Carlo Borromeo are conspicuous. The mountains 
 of the Vienna Forest bound the view, with here and there a 
 stately castle on their woody summits. 
 
 There is no lack of places for pleasure and amusement. 
 Besides the numberless walks of the Glacis, there are the 
 Imperial Gardens, with their cool shades and flowers and 
 fountains ; the Augarten, laid out and opened to the public 
 by the Emperor Joseph : and the Prater, the largest and 
 most beautiful of all. It lies on an island formed by the 
 arms of the Danube, and is between two and three miles 
 square. From the circle at the end of the Praterstrasse, 
 broad carriage-ways extend through its forests of oak and 
 silver ash, and over its verdant lawns to the principal stream, 
 which bounds it on the north. These roads are lined with 
 stately horse-chestnuts, whose branches unite and form a 
 dense canopy, completely shutting out the sun. Every 
 afternoon the beauty and nobility of Vienna whirl through 
 
THE PRATER. 235 
 
 the cool groves in their gay equipages, while the sidewalks 
 are thronged with pedestrians, and the numberless tables 
 and seats with which every house of refreshment is sur- 
 rounded, are filled with merry guests. Here, on Sundays 
 and holidays, the people repair in thousands- The woods 
 are full of tame deer, which run perfectly free over the 
 Avhole Prater. I saw several in one of the lawns, lying 
 down in the grass, with a number of children playing 
 around or sitting beside them. It is delightful to walk 
 there in the cool of the evening, when the paths are crowd- 
 ed, and everybody is enjoying the release from the dusty 
 city. It is this free, social life which renders Vienna so at- 
 tractive to foreigners, and yearly draws thousands of visitors 
 from all parts of Europe. 
 
 St. Stephen's Cathedral, in the centre of the old city, is 
 one of the finest specimens of Gothic architecture in Ger- 
 many. Its unrivalled tower, which rises to the height of 
 four hundred and twenty-eight feet, is visible from every 
 part of Vienna. It is entirely of stone, most elaborately 
 ornamented, and is supposed to be the strongest in Europe. 
 The inside is solemn and grand ; but the effect is injured by 
 the number of small chapels and shrines. In one of these 
 rest the remains of Prince Eugene of Savoy, " der edle 
 Ritte?','" known in a ballad to every man, woman and child 
 in Germany. 
 
 The Belvidere Gallery fills thirty-five halls, and contains 
 three thousand pictures. It is absolutely bewildering to 
 walk through such vast collections ; you can do no more 
 than glance at each painting, and hurry by face after face, 
 and figure after figure, on which you would willingly gaze 
 
236 VIEWS A-FOOT, 
 
 for hours and inhale the atmosphere of beauty that surrounds 
 them. Then after you leave, the brain is filled with their 
 forms — radiant faces look upon you, and you see constantly 
 in fancy, the calm brow of a Madonna, the sweet young 
 face of a child, or the blending of divine with mortal beauty 
 in an angel's countenance. I endeavor, if possible, always 
 to make several visits — to study those pictures which cling 
 first to the memory, and pass over those which make 
 little or no impression. It is better to have a few images 
 fresh and enduring, than a confused and indistinct memory 
 of many. 
 
 The Lower Belvidere, separated from the Upper by a 
 large garden, laid out in the style of that at Versailles, con- 
 tains the celebrated Ambraser Sammlung, a collection of 
 armor. In the first hall I noticed the complete armor of 
 the Emperor Maximilian, for man and horse — the armor of 
 Charles V., and Prince Moritz of Saxony, while the walls 
 were filled with figures of German nobles and knights, in 
 the suits they wore in life. There is also the armor of the 
 great *' Baver of Trient," trabant of the Archduke Ferdi- 
 nand. He was nearly nine feet in stature, and his spear, 
 though not equal to Satan's in Paradise Lost, would still 
 make a tree of tolerable dimensions. In the second hall 
 we saw weapons taken from the Turkish army who besieged 
 Vienna, with the horse-tail standards of the Grand Vizier, 
 Kara Mustapha. The most interesting article was the 
 battle-axe of the unfortunate Montezuma, which was pro- 
 bably given to the Emperor Charles V. by Cortez. It is a 
 plain instrument of dark colored stone, about three feet 
 long. 
 
RELICS OF PAST HISTORY. 237 
 
 We also visited tlife BdrgeriicJie Tjcughatn, a collection 
 of arms and weapons, belonging to the citizens of Vienna. 
 It contains sixteen thousand weapons and suits of armor, 
 including those plundored from the Turks, when John Sobi- 
 eski conquered them and relieved Vienna from the siege. 
 Besides a great number of sabres, lances and horse-tails, 
 there is the blood-red banner of the Grand Vizier, as well 
 as his*skull and shroud, which is covered with sentences from 
 the Koran. On his return to Belgrade, after the defeat at 
 Vienna, the Sultan sent him a bow-string, and he was ac- 
 cordingly strangled. The Austrians having taken Belgrade 
 some time after, they opened his grave and carried off his 
 skull and shroud as well as the bow-string, as relics. 
 Another large and richly embroidered banner, which hung 
 in a broad sheet from the ceiling, was far more interesting to 
 me. It had once waved from the vessels of the Knights 
 of Malta, and had, perhaps, on the prow of the Grand 
 Master's ship, led that romantic band to battle against the 
 Infidel. 
 
 A large number of peasants and common soldiers were ad- 
 mitted to view the armory at the same time. The grave 
 custode who showed us the curiosities, explaining every thing 
 in phrases known by heart for years and making the same 
 starts of admiration whenever he came to any thing peculiar- 
 ly remarkable, singled us out as the two persons most worthy 
 of attention. Accordingly his remarks were directed entirely 
 to us, and his humble countrymen might as well have been 
 invisible, for the notice he took of them. On passing out, 
 we gave him a coin worth about fifteen cents, which hap- 
 pened to be so much more than the others gave him, that, 
 
238 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 bowing graciously, he invited us to write our names in the 
 album for strangers. While we were doing this, a poor hand- 
 werker lingered behind, apparently for the same object, 
 whom he scornfully dismissed, shaking the coin in his hand, 
 and saying : " The album is not for such as you — it is for 
 noble gentlemen !" 
 
 On our way through the city, we often noticed a house on 
 the southern side of St. Stephen's Platz, dedicated to " the 
 Iron Stick." In a niche by the window stood what ap- 
 peared to be the limb of a tree, completely filled with nails, 
 which were driven in so thick that no part of the original 
 wood is visible. We learned afterwards the legend concern- 
 ing it. The Vienna Forest is said to have extended, several 
 hundred years ago, to this place. A locksmith's apprentice 
 was enabled, by the devil's help, to make the iron bars and 
 padlock which confine the limb in its place; every lock- 
 smith's apprentice who came to Vienna after that, drove a 
 nail into it, until finally there was room for no more. It is 
 a singular legend, and whoever may have placed the limb 
 there originally, there it has remained for two or three hundred 
 years at least. 
 
 We spent two or three hours delightfully one evening in 
 listening to Strauss's band. We went about sunset to the 
 Odeon, a new building in the Leopoldstadt. It has a refresh- 
 ment hall nearly five hundred feet long, with a handsome 
 fresco ceiling and glass doors opening into a garden walk of 
 the same length. Both the hall and garden were filled with 
 tables, where the people seated themselves as they came, 
 and conversed sociably over their coffee and wine. The 
 orchestra was placed in a little ornamental temple in the 
 
BTRAUSS AND HIS BAND. 239 
 
 garden, in front of which I stationed myself, for I was anxi- 
 ous to see the world's waltz-king, whose magic tones set the 
 heels of half Christendom in motion. After the band finished 
 tuning their instruments, a middle-sized, handsome man 
 stepped forward with long strides, with a violin in one hand 
 and bow in the other, and began waving the latter up and 
 down, like a magician summoning his spirits. As if he had 
 waved the sound out of his bow, the tones leaped forth from 
 the instruments, and guided by his eye and hand, fell into a 
 merry measure. The accuracy with which every instrument 
 performed its part, was truly marvellous. He could not have 
 struck the measure or the harmony more certainly from the 
 keys of his own piano, than from that large band. Some- 
 times the air was so exquisitely light and bounding, that the 
 feet could scarcely keep on the earth ; then it sank into a 
 mournful lament, with a sobbing tremulousness, and died 
 away in a long-breathed sigh. Strauss seemed to feel the 
 music in every limb. He would wave his fiddle-bow awhile, 
 then commence playing with desperate energy, moving his 
 whole body to the measure, until the sweat rolled from his 
 brow. A book was lying on the stand before him, but he 
 made no use of it. He often glanced around with a half- 
 triumphant smile at the restless crowd, whose feet could 
 scarcely be restrained from bounding to the magic measure. 
 It was the horn of Oberon realized. 
 
 The company, which consisted of several hundred, ap- 
 peared to be full of enjoyment. They sat under the trees 
 in the calm, cool twilight, with the stars twinkling above, 
 and talked and laughed together during the pauses of the 
 music, or strolled up and down the lighted alleys. We 
 
240 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 walked up and down with them, and thought how much we 
 should enjoy such a scene at home, where the faces around 
 us would be those of friends, and the language our mother 
 tongue ! 
 
 We went a long way through the suburbs one bright 
 afternoon to a little cemetery about a mile from the city, to 
 find the grave of Beethoven. On ringing at the gate, a girl 
 admitted us into the grounds, in which are many monu- 
 ments of noble families who have vaults there. I passed up 
 the narrow walk, reading the inscriptions, till I came to the 
 tomb of Franz Clement, a young composer, who died two or 
 three years ago. On turning again, my eye fell instantly 
 on the word " Beethoven," in golden letters, on a tomb^ 
 stone of gray marble. A simple gilded lyre decorated the 
 pedestal, above which was a serpent encircling a butterfly^ — 
 the emblem of resurrection to eternal life. Here, then, 
 mouldered the remains of that restless spirit, who seemed to 
 have strayed to earth from another clime, from such a 
 height did he draw his glorious conceptions. The perfection 
 he sought for here in vain, he has now attained in a world 
 where the soul is freed from the bars which bind it in this. 
 There were no flowers planted around the tomb by those 
 who revered his genius ; only one wreath, withered and 
 dead, lay among the grass, as if left long ago by some 
 solitary pilgrim, and a few wild buttercups hung with their 
 bright blossoms over the slab. I could not resist the 
 temptation to pluck one or two, while the old grave-digger 
 was busy preparing a new tenement. I thought that other 
 buds would open in a few days, but those I took would be 
 treasured many a year as sacred relics. A few paces off is 
 
GALLERIES OF ART. 241 
 
 the grave of Scliubert, the composer, whose beautiful songs 
 are heard all over Germany. 
 
 It would employ one constantly for a week to visit all the 
 rich collections of art in Vienna. They are all open to the 
 public on certain days, and we ha^e been kept in perpetual 
 motion running from one part of the city to another, in 
 order to arrive at some gallery at the appointed time. 
 Tickets, which must often be procured in quite different 
 parts of the city, are necessary for admittance to many ; 
 and on applying after much trouble and search, we fre- 
 quently found that we came at the wrong hour, and must 
 leave without effecting our object. We employed no guide, 
 but preferred finding everything ourselves. We made a list 
 every morning of the collections open during the day, and 
 employed the rest of the time in visiting the churches and 
 public gardens, or rambling through the suburbs. 
 
 We visited the Imperial Library a day or two ago. The 
 hall is 245 feet long, with a magnificent dome in the centre, 
 under which stands the statue of Charles V., of Carrara 
 marble, surrounded by twelve other monarchs of the house 
 of Hapsburg. The walls are of variegated marble, richly 
 ornamented with gold, and the ceiling and dome are covered 
 with brilliant fresco paintings. The library numbers 300,000 
 volumes, and 16,000 manuscripts, which are kept in walnut 
 cases, gilded and adorned with medallions. The rich and 
 harmonious effect of the whole cannot easily be imagined. 
 It is exceedingly appropriate that a hall of such splendor 
 should be used to hold a library. The pomp of a palace 
 may seem hollow and vain, for it is but the dAvelling of a 
 man ; but no building can be too magnificent for the hun- 
 11 
 
242 VIEWS A-FOOT, 
 
 dreds of great and immortal spirits, wlio have visited earth 
 during thirty centuries, to inhabit. 
 
 We also visited the Cabinet of Natural History, which is 
 open twice a week " to all respectably dressed persons," as 
 the notice at the door says. But Heaven forbid that I should 
 attempt to describe what we saw there. The Mineral Cabi- 
 net had a greater interest . :> me, inasmuch as it called up 
 the recollections of many a schoolboy ramble over the hills 
 and into all kinds of quarries, far and near. It is said to be 
 the most perfect collection in existence. I was pleased to 
 find many old acquaintances there, from the mines of Penn- 
 sylvania : Massachusetts and New York were also very well 
 represented. I had no idea before, that the mineral wealth 
 of Austria was so great. Besides the iron and lead mines 
 among the hills of Styria and the quicksilver of Idria, there 
 is no small amount of gold and silver, and the Carpathian 
 mountains are rich in jasper, opal and lapiz lazuli. The 
 largest opal ever found, was in this collection. It weighs 
 thirty-four ounces, and looks like a condensed rainbow. 
 
 In passing the palace, we saw several persons entering the 
 basement story under the Library, and had the curiosity to 
 foIloA, them. By so doing, we saw the splendid equipages 
 of the house of Austria. There must have been near a 
 hundred carriages and sleds, of every shape and style, from 
 the heavy, square vehicle of the last century, to the most 
 light and elegant conveyance of the present day. One 
 clumsy, but magnificent machine, of crimson and gold, was 
 pointed out as being a hundred and fifty years old. The 
 misery we witnessed in starving Bohemia, formed a striking 
 contrast to all this splendor. 
 
PRINCE LIECIITEXSTETN S GALLERY. 243 
 
 Besides tlie Imperial Picture Grallery, there are several 
 belonging to princes and noblemen in Vienna, T\'hicb are 
 scarcely less valuable. The most important of these is that 
 of Prince Liechtenstein, which we visited yesterday. We 
 applied at the porter's lodge for admittance to the gallery, 
 but he refused to open it for two persons. As we did not 
 wish a long T»^alk for nothing, we determined to wait for 
 other visitors. Presently a gentleman and lady came 
 and inquired if the gallery was open. We told them 
 it would probably be opened now, although the porter 
 required a larger number. The gentleman went to seek 
 him, and presently returned, saying : " He Avill come imme- 
 diately ; I thought best to put the number a little higher, 
 and so I told him there were six of us !'' Having little 
 artistic knowledge of paintings, I judge of them according to 
 the effect they produce upon me — in proportion as tluy 
 gratify the natural instinctive love of the Beautiful. I have 
 been therefore disappointed in some painters whose names 
 are widely known, and surprised again to find works of 
 great beauty by others of smaller fame. Judging by such 
 a standard, I should say th;it " Cupid sleeping in the lap of 
 Venus," by Correggio, is the glory of this collection. The 
 beautiful limbs of the boy-god droop in the repose of slum- 
 ber, as 'Is head rests on his mother's knee, and there is a 
 smile lingering around his half-parted lips, as if he was 
 dreaming new triumphs. The face is not that of the wicked, 
 mischief-loving child, but rather a sweet cherub, bringing a 
 blessing to all he visits. The figure of the goddess is ex- 
 quisite. Her countenance, unearthly in its loveliness, 
 expresses the tenderness of a young mother, as she sits 
 
244 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 with one finger pressed on her rosy lip, watching his 
 slumber. 
 
 One of the most interesting objects in Vienna, is the 
 Imperial Armory. We were admitted by means of tickets 
 previously procured from the Armory Direction. Around 
 the wall on the inside, is suspended the- enormous chain 
 which the Turks stretched across the Danube at Buda, in 
 the year 1529, to obstruct the navigation. It has eight thou- 
 sand links, and is nearly a mile in length. The court is filled 
 with cannon of all shapes and sizes, many of which were 
 conquered from other nations. I saw a great many which 
 were cast during the French Revolution, with the words 
 ^' Liberti! Egalite T upon them, and a number of others 
 bearing the simple letter *'N.'* 
 
 Finally, a company which had precedence of us, finished 
 their sight-seeing, and the forty or fifty persons who had 
 collected during the interval were admitted. The Armory 
 is a hollow square, and must be at least a quarter of a mile 
 in length. We were taken into a circular hall, made 
 entirely of weapons, to represent the four quarters of the 
 globe. Here the crusty old guide who admitted us, rapped 
 with his stick on the shield of an old knight who stood near, 
 to keep silence, and then addressed us : " When I speak 
 every one must be silent. No one can write or draw any- 
 thing. No one shall touch anything, or go to look at any- 
 thing else, before I have done speaking. Otherwise, they 
 shall be taken immediately into the street again ! " Thus 
 in every hall he rapped and scolded, driving the women to 
 one side with his stick and the men to the other, until we 
 had nearly completed the tour cf the halls, when the thought 
 
THE CRUSTY CUSTODE. 245 
 
 of tte coming fee made him a little more polite. He liad a 
 regular set of descriptions by heart, which he delivered with 
 a great flourish, pointing particularly to the common military 
 caps of the late Emperors of Prussia and Austria, as " treasures 
 beyond all price to the nation ! " Whereupon, the crowd 
 of common people gazed reverently on the shabby beavers, 
 and I verily believe, would have devoutly kissed them, had 
 the glass covering been removed. I happened to be next to 
 a tall, dignified young man, who looked on all this with a 
 displeasure amounting to contempt. Seeing I was a for- 
 eigner, he spoke, in a low tone, bitterly of the Austrian 
 government. " You are not then an Austrian ? " I asked, 
 " No, thank God ! " was the reply ; " but I have seen 
 enough of Austrian tyranny. I am a Pole ! " 
 
 Some of the halls represent a fortification, with wallss 
 ditches, and embankments, made of muskets and swords. 
 A long room in the second wing contains an encampment, 
 in which twelve or fifteen large tents are formed in like 
 manner. Along the sides are grouped old Austrian ban- 
 ners, standards taken from the French, and horse-tails and 
 flags captured from the Turks. '* They make a great boast," 
 said the Pole. " of a half dozen French colors, but let them 
 go to the Hopital des Invalides, in Paris, and they will 
 find hundreds of the best banners of Austria ! " They also 
 exhibited the armor of a dwarf king of Bohemia and Hun- 
 gary, who died, a gray -headed old man, in his twentieth 
 year; the sword of Marlborough; the coat of Gustavug 
 Adolphus, pierced in the breast and back with the bullet 
 which killed him at Liitzen ; the armor of the old Bohemian 
 princess Libussa, and that of the amazon Wlaska, with a 
 
246 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 steel vizor made to fit the features of her face. The last 
 wing was the most remarkable. Here we saw the helm and 
 breastplate of Attila, king of the Huns, which once gleamed 
 at the head of his myriads of wild hordes, before the walls 
 of Rome ; the armor of Count Stahremberg. who com- 
 manded Vienna during the Turkish siege in 1529, and the 
 holy banner of Mahomet, taken at that time from the Grand 
 Vizier, together with the steel harness of John Sobieski, of 
 Poland, who rescued Vienna from the Turkish troops under 
 Kara Mustapha ; the hat, sword, and breastplate of Godfrey 
 of Bouillon, the Orusader-king of Jerusalem, with the ban- 
 ners of the cross the Crusaders had borne to Palestine, and 
 the standard they captured from the Turks on the walls of 
 the Holy City ! I felt all my boyish enthusiasm for the 
 romantic age of the Crusaders revive, as I looked on the 
 torn and mouldering banners which had once waved on the 
 hills of Judea, or perhaps followed the sword of the Lion 
 Heart through the fight on the field of Ascalon ! What 
 tales could they not tell, those old standards, cut and 
 shivered by spear and lance ! What brave hands have 
 carried them through the storm of battle, what dying eyes 
 have looked upwards to the cross on their folds, as the 
 last prayer was breathed for the rescue of the Holy Se- 
 pulchre ! 
 
 I must now close the catalogue. This morning we shall 
 look upon Vienna for the last time. Our knapsacks are 
 repacked, and the passports (precious documents !) vised for 
 Munich. The getting of this vise, however, caused a comi- 
 cal scene at the Police Office, yesterday. We entered the 
 Inspector's Hall and took our stand quietly among the 
 
SCENE AT THE POLICE OFFICE. 247 
 
 crowd of persons wlio were gathered around a railing which 
 separated them from the main officCo One of the clerks 
 came up, scowling at us, and asked in a rough tone, " What 
 do you want here 1 " We handed him our tickets of sojourn 
 (for when a traveller spends more than twenty-four hours in 
 a German city, he must take out a permission and pay for 
 it), with the request that he would give us our passports. 
 lie glanced over the tickets, came back, and with constrained 
 politeness, asked us to step within the raihng. Here we 
 were introduced to the Chief Inspector. " Desire Herr 
 
 to come here," said he to a servant ; then turning to 
 
 us, " I am happy to see the gentlemen in Vienna." An 
 officer immediately came up, who addressed us in fluent 
 English. "You may speak in your native tongue," said 
 the Inspector : — " excuse our neglect ; from the facility with 
 which you speak German, we supposed you were natives of 
 Austria ! " Our passports were signed at once and given us 
 with a gracious bow, accompanied by the hope that we 
 would visit Vienna again before long. All this, of course, 
 was perfectly unintelligible to the wondering crowd outside 
 the railing. Seeing, however, the honors we were receiving 
 they fell back, and respectfully made room for us to pass 
 out. I kept a grave face until we reached the bottom of 
 the stairs, when I gave way to restrained laughter in a 
 manner that shocked the dignity of the guard, who looked 
 savagely at me over his forest of moustache. I would 
 ' nevertheless have felt grateful for the attention we received 
 as Americans, were it not for our uncourteous reception as 
 suspected Austrians. 
 
 We have just been enjoying a hearty laugh again. 
 
248 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 though from a very different cause, and one which, accord- 
 ing to common custom, ought rather to draw forth tears, or 
 
 at least sighs and groans. This morning B suggested 
 
 an examination of our funds, for we had neglected keeping 
 a strict account, and what with being cheated in Bohemia 
 and tempted by the amusements of Vienna, there was an 
 apparent dwindling away. So we emptied our pockets, 
 counted up the contents, and found we had just ten florins, 
 or four dollars apiece. The thought of our situation, away 
 in the heart of Austria, five hundred miles from our Frank- 
 fort home, seems irresistibly laughablec By allowing twenty 
 days for the journey, we shall have half a florin (twenty 
 cents) a day for our travelling expenses. This is a homoeopa- 
 thic allowance, indeed, but there is nothing to be done, ex- 
 cept to make the attempt. So now adieu, Vienna ! In two 
 hours we shall be among the hills again. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 UP THE DANUBE. 
 
 A. Strong Wind— The Palace of SchGnbrunn— The Abbey of Melk— The Luxury d 
 Foot-Travel — American Scenery — Rencontre with Bohemian Gipsies — Danubian 
 Landscapes — The Styrian Alps — Holy Florian— Votive Shrines— Linz and its Towerg 
 —More Money Wanted— Lambaoh— A Mountain Portrait— Falls of the Traun— Bat- 
 tie-Field of the Unkno-vra Student, 
 
 We passed out of Vienna in the face of one of the strongest 
 winds it was ever my lot to encounter. It swept across the 
 plain with such force that we found it almost impossible to 
 advance until we got under the lee of a range of hills. 
 About two miles from the barrier we passed Schonbrunn, 
 the Austrian Versailles. It was built by the Empress Maria 
 Theresa, and was the residence of Napoleon in 1809, when 
 Vienna was in the hands of the French. Later, ia 1832, 
 the Duke of Reichstadt died in the same room which his 
 father once occupied. Behind the palace is a magnificent 
 garden, at the foot of a hill covered with rich forests and 
 crowned with an open pillared hall, three hundred feet long, 
 called the Gloriette. The colossal eagle which surmounts it, 
 can be seen a great distance. 
 
 11» 
 
250 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 The lovely valley in wliicli Sclionbrunn lies, follows tlie 
 course of the little river Vienna into the heart of that moun- 
 tain region lying between the Styrian Alps and the Danube, 
 and called the Vienna Forest. Into this our road led between 
 hills covered with wood, with here and there a lovely green 
 meadow, where herds of. cattle were grazing. On the third 
 day we came to the Danube again at Melk, a little city built 
 under the edge of a steep hill, on the summit of which 
 stands the palace-like abbey of the Benedictine Monks. 
 The old friars must have had a merry life of it, for the wine- 
 cellar of the abbey furnished the French army 50,000 
 measures for several days in succession. The shores of the 
 Danube here are extremely beautiful. Although not so 
 picturesque as the Rhine, the scenery of the Danube is on a 
 grander scale. On the south side the mountains bend down 
 to it with a majestic sweep, and there must be delightful 
 glances into the valleys that lie between, in passing down its 
 current. 
 
 But we soon left the river, and journeyed on through the 
 enchanting inland vales. To give an idea of the glorious 
 enjoyment of travelling through such scenes, let me copy a 
 leaf out of my journal, written as we rested at noon on the 
 top of a lofty hill : — " Here, Avhile the delightful mountain 
 breeze that comes fresh from the Alps cools my forehead, 
 and the pines around are sighing their eternal anthem, I 
 seize a fcAV moments to describe the paradise around me. I 
 have felt an elevation of mind and spirit, an unmixed 
 rapture, from morning till night, since we left Vienna. It 
 is the brightest and balmiest June weather ; a fresh breeze 
 sings through the trees and waves the ripening grain on the 
 
THE LUXURY OF FOOT-TRAVEL. 251 
 
 verdant meadows and hill-slopes = The air is filled with 
 bird-music. The larks sing above us out of sight, the bull- 
 finch wakes his notes in the grove, and at eve the nightin- 
 gale pours forth her passionate strain. The meadows are 
 literally covered with flowers — beautiful purple salvias, 
 pinks such as we have at home in our gardens, and glowing 
 buttercups, color the banks of every stream. I never saw 
 richer or more luxuriant foliage. Magnificent forests clothe 
 the hills, and the villages are embosomed in fruit trees, 
 shrubbery and flowers. Sometimes we go for miles through 
 some enchanting valley, lying like a paradise between the 
 mountains, while the distant, white Alps look on it from 
 afar ; sometimes over swelling ranges of hills, where we can 
 see to the right the valley of the Danube, threaded by his 
 silver current and dotted with white cottages and glittering 
 spires, and farther beyond, the blue mountains of the Bohe- 
 mian Forest. To the left, the range of the Styrian Alps 
 stretches along the sky, summit above summit, the farther 
 ones robed in perpetual snow. I never tire gazing on these 
 glorious hills. They fill the soul with a sense of sublimity, 
 such as one feels when listening to triumphal music. They 
 seem like the marble domes of a mighty range of temples, 
 where Earth worships her Maker with an organ-anthem of 
 storms ! 
 
 " There is an exquisite luxury in travelling here. We 
 walk all day through such scenes, resting often in the shade 
 of the fruit trees which line the road, or on a mossy bank 
 by the side of some cool forest. Sometimes for enjoyment 
 as well as variety, we make our dining-place by a clear 
 spring instead of within a smoky tavern ; and our simple 
 
252 Views a-fooTo 
 
 meals have a relish an epicure could never attain. Away 
 with your railroads and steamboats and mail-coaches, or keep 
 them for those who have no eye but for the sordid interests 
 of life ! With my knapsack and pilgrim-staff, I ask not 
 their aid. If a mind and soul full of rapture with beauty, 
 a frame in glowing and vigorous health, and slumbers un- 
 broken even by dreams, are blessings any one would attain, 
 let him shoulder his knapsack and walk through Lower 
 Austria !'* 
 
 I have never been so strongly and constantly reminded 
 of America, as during this journey. Perhaps the balmy 
 season, the same in which I last looked upon the dear 
 scenes of home, may have its effect ; but there is also a rich- 
 ness in the forests and waving fields of grain, a wild luxu- 
 riance in every landscape, which I have seen nowhere else 
 in Europe. The large farm houses, buried in orchards, 
 scattered over the valleys, add to the effect. Everything 
 seems to speak of happiness and prosperity. 
 
 We were met one morning by a band of wandering Bo- 
 hemian gipsies — the first of the kind I ever saw. A young 
 woman with a small child in her arms came directly up to 
 me, and looking full in my face with her wild black eyes, 
 said, without any preface : " Yes, he too has met with sor- 
 row and trouble already, and will still have more. But he 
 is not false — he is true and sincere, and will also meet with 
 good luck!" She said she could tell me three numbers 
 with which I should buy a lottery ticket and win a great 
 prize. I told her I would have nothing to do with the lot- 
 tery, and would buy no ticket, but she persisted, saying .• 
 '♦Has he a twenty kreutzer piece ? — will he give it ? Lay 
 
DANUBIAN LANDSCAPES. 253 
 
 it m his hand and make a cross over it, and I will reveal the 
 numbers !" On my refusal, she became angry, and left me, 
 saying: "Let him take care — on the third day something 
 will happen to him !" An old, wrinkled hag made the same 
 proposition to my companion with no better success. They 
 reminded me strikingly of our Indians ; their complexion is 
 a dark brown, and their eyes and hair are black as night. 
 These belonged to a small tribe who wander through the 
 forests of Bohemia, and support themselves by cheating and 
 stealing. 
 
 We stopped on the fourth night at Enns, a small city on 
 the river of the same name, which divides Upper from 
 Lower Austria. After leaving the beautiful little village 
 where we passed the previous night, the road ascended one 
 of those long ranges of hills, which stretch off from the 
 Danube towards the Alps. We walked for miles over the 
 broad and uneven summit, enjoying the enchanting view 
 which opened on both sides. If we looked to the right, 
 we could trace the windings of the Danube for twenty miles, 
 his current studded with green, wooded islands ; white cities 
 nestled at the foot of the hills, which, covered to the summits 
 with grain-fields and vineyards, extended back one behind 
 another, till the farthest were lost in the distance. I was 
 glad we had taken the way from Vienna to Linz by land, 
 for from the heights we had a view of the whole course of 
 the Danube, enjoying besides the beauty of the inland vales 
 and the far-off Styrian Alps, From the hills we crossed 
 we could see the snowy range as far as the Alps of Salzburg 
 — some of them seemed robed to the very base in their white 
 mantles. In the morning the glaciers on their summit glit- 
 
254 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 tered like stars ; it was tlie first time I saw the sun reflected 
 at a hundred miles' distance ! 
 
 On descending the ridge we came into a garden-like plain, 
 over which rose the towers of Enns, built by the ransom- 
 money paid to Austria for the deliverance of the lion-hearted 
 Eicliard. The comitr; legends say that St. Florian was 
 thrown into the river by the Romans in the third century, 
 with a millstone around his neck, which, however, held him 
 above the water Hke cork, until he had finished preaching 
 them a sermon. In the villages we often saw his image 
 painted on the houses, in the act of pouring a pail of water 
 on a burning building, with the inscription beneath — " Oh, 
 holy Florian, pray for us!" This was supposed to be a 
 charm against fire. In Upper Austria, it is customary to erect 
 a shrine on the road, wherever an accident has happened, 
 with a descriptive painting, and an admonition to all travel- 
 lers to pray for the soul of the unfortunate person. On one 
 of them, for instance, was a cart with a wild ox, which a man 
 was holding by the horns ; a woman kneeling by the wheels 
 appeared to be drawing a little girl by the feet from under 
 it, and the inscription stated : " By calling on Jesus, Mary 
 and Joseph, the girl was happily rescued." Many of the 
 shrines had images which the people no doubt, in their igno- 
 rance and simplicity, considered holy, but to us they were 
 impious and almost blasphemous. 
 
 From Enns a morning's walk brought us to Linz. The 
 peasant girls in their broad straw hats were weeding the 
 young wheat, looking as cheerful and contented as the larks 
 that sang above them, A mile or two from Linz we passed 
 one or two of the round towers belonging to the new fortifi- 
 
LINZ AKD ITS TOWERS. 255 
 
 cations of the city. As walls have grown out of fashion, 
 Duke Maximilian substituted an invention of his own. The 
 city is surrounded by thirty-two towers, one to three miles 
 distant from it, and so placed that they form a complete line 
 of communication and defence. They are sunk in the earth, 
 surrounded with a ditch and embankments, and each is capa- 
 ble of containing ten cannon and three hundred men. The 
 pointed roofs of these towers are seen on all the hills around. 
 We were obliged to give up our passports at the barrier, the 
 officer telling us to call for them in three hours at the City 
 Police Office ; we spent the intervening time very agreeably in 
 rambling through the gay, cheerful-looking town. With its 
 gilded spires and ornamented houses, with their green lattice- 
 blinds, it is strongly suggestive of Italy. Although we had 
 not exceeded our daily allowance by more than a few kreut- 
 zers, we found that twenty days would be hardly sufficient 
 to accomplish the journey, and our funds would therefore 
 need to be replenished before we could reach Frankfort. 
 Accordingly I wrote from Linz to a friend at Frankfort, di- 
 recting a small sum to be forwarded to Munich, which city we 
 hoped to reach in eight days. 
 
 We took the horse cars at Linz for Lambach, seventeen 
 miles on the way towards Gmunden. The mountains were 
 covered with clouds as we approached them, and the storms 
 they had been brewing for two or three days began to march 
 down on the plain. They had nearly reached us, when we 
 crossed the Traun and arrived at Lambach, a small city built 
 upon a hill. We left the next day at noon, after the storm had 
 ceased, and on ascending the hill after crossing the Traun, 
 had an opportunity of seeing the portrait on the Traunstein, 
 
256 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 of whicli the old landlord at Lambacli told us. I recogmaed 
 it at the first glance, and certainly it is a most remarkable 
 freak of nature. The rough back of the mountain forms the 
 exact profile of the human countenance, as if regularly hewn 
 out of the rock. What is still more singular, it is said to be 
 a correct portrait of the unfortunate Louis XVI. The land- 
 lord said it was immediately recognized by all Frenchmen. 
 The road followed the course of the Traun,whose green waters 
 roared at the bottom of the glen below us ; we walked for 
 several miles in a fine forest, through whose openings we 
 caught glimpses of the mountains we longed to reach. 
 
 The river roared at last somewhat louder, and on looking 
 down the bank, I saw rocks and rapids, and a few houses 
 built on the edge of the stream. Thinking we must be near 
 the celebrated fall, we went down the path, and lo ! on cross- 
 ing a little wooden bridge, the whole affair burst in sight ! 
 Judge of our surprise at finding a cascade of fifteen feet, 
 after we had been led to expect a tremendous leap of forty 
 or fifty, with all the accompaniment of rocks and precipices. 
 Of course the whole descent of the river at the place was 
 much greater, and there were some romantic rapids over the 
 rocks which blocked its course. 
 
 The Traunstein-grew higher as we approached, present- 
 ing the same profile until we had nearly reached Gmunden. 
 From the green upland meadows above the town, the view 
 of the mountain range was glorious, and I could easily con- 
 ceive the effect of the Unknown Student's appeal to the 
 people to fight for those free hills. I think it is Howitt who 
 relates the incident — one of the most romantic in German 
 history. Count Pappenheim led his forces here in the 
 
BATTLE-FIELD OF THE UNKNOWN STUDENT. 257 
 
 year 1626, to suppress a revolution of the people of the 
 whole Salzburg region, who had risen against an invasion of 
 their rights by the Austrian government. The battle which 
 took place on these meadows was about being decided in 
 favor of the oppressors, when a young man, clad as a stu- 
 dent, suddenly appeared and addressed the people, pointing 
 to the Alps above them and the sweet lake below, and ask- 
 ing if that land should not be free. The effect was electri- 
 cal ; they returned to the charge and drove back the troops 
 of Pappenheim, who were about taking to flight, when the 
 unknown leader fell, mortally wounded. This struck a sud- 
 den panic through his followers, and the Austriaris, turning 
 again, gained a complete victory. But the name of the 
 brave student is unknown, his deed unsung by his country's 
 bards, and almost forgotten. 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE AUSTRIAN ALPS. 
 
 The Lake of Gmunden— Among the Alps— The Lumber Business— The Baths of IscW 
 — St. Wolfgang— Climbing the Schafberg— Lost — The Track of an Avalanche— 
 "Walking over a Forest — Panorama from the Summit — Descent to St. Gilgen — An 
 Alpine Eden— The Shoemaker and his Wife—" Footsteps of Angels "—The Valley 
 of Salzburg— The Alps— The Boy of the Mountain— Sights in Salzburg— Entering 
 Bavaria— People and Scenery— Wasserburg— Field of Hohenlinden — Arrival at 
 Munich— An Enthusiastic Acquaintance. 
 
 It was nearly dark when we came to the end of the plain, 
 and looked on the city at our feet and the lovely lake that 
 lost itself in the mountains before us. We were early on 
 board the steamboat next morning, with a cloudless sky 
 above us and a snow-crested Alp beckoning on from the 
 end of the lake. The water was of the loveliest green hue, 
 the morning light colored the peaks around with purple, and 
 a misty veil rolled up the rocks of the Traunstein. We 
 stood on the prow and enjoyed to the fullest extent the 
 enchanting scenery. The white houses of Gmunden sank 
 down to the water's edge like a flock of ducks ; half-way 
 we passed castle Ort, on a rock in the lakp, whose summit 
 is covered with trees» 
 
AMONG- THE ALPS. 259 
 
 As we neared tlie other extremity, the mountains became 
 steeper and loftier ; there was no path along their wild 
 sides, nor even a fisher's hut nestled at their feet, and the 
 snow filled the ravines more than half-way from the summit. 
 An hour and a quarter brought us to Ebensee, at the head of 
 the lake, where we landed and plodded on towards Isclil, fol- 
 lowing the Traun up a narrow valley, whose mountain- walls 
 shut out more than half the sky. They are covered with 
 forests, and the country is inhabited entirely by the wood- 
 men who fell the mountain pines and float the timber rafts 
 down to the Danube. The steeps are marked with white 
 lines, where the trees have been rolled, or rather tumbled from 
 the summit. Often they descend several miles over rocks and 
 precipices, where the least deviation from the track would 
 dash them in a thousand pieces. This transportation is 
 generally accomplished in the winter when the sides are 
 covered with snow and ice. It must be a dangerous busi- 
 ness, for there are many crosses by the way-side, where the 
 pictures represent persons accidentally killed by the trees ; 
 an additional painting shows them burning in the flames of 
 purgatory, and the pious traveller is requested to pray an 
 Ave or a Paternoster for the repose of their souls. 
 
 On we went, up the valley of the Traun, between moun- 
 tains five and six thousand feet high, through scenes con- 
 stantly changing and constantly grand, for three or four 
 hours. Finally the hills opened, disclosing a little triangu- 
 lar valley, whose base was formed by a mighty mountain 
 covered with clouds. Through the two side-angles came 
 the Traun and his tributary the Ischl, while the little town 
 of Ischl lay in the centre. Within a few years this has 
 
260 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 become a very fashionable bathing-place, and the influx of 
 rich visitors, which in the summer sometimes amounts to two 
 thousand, has entirely destroyed the primitive simplicity 
 which the inhabitants originally possessed. From Ischl we 
 took a road through the forests to St. Wolfgang, on the lake 
 of the same name. The last part of the way led along the 
 banks of the lake, disclosing some delicious views. These 
 Alpine lakes surpass any scenery I have yet seen. The 
 water is of the most beautiful green, like a sheet of molten 
 beryl, and the cloud-piercing mountains that encompass 
 them shut out the sun for nearly half the day. St. Wolf- 
 gang is a lovely village, in a cool and quiet nook at the foot 
 of the Schaf berg. The houses are built in the picturesque 
 Swiss style, with flat, projecting roofs, and ornamented bal- 
 conies, and the people are the very picture of neatness and 
 cheerfulness. 
 
 We started next morning to ascend the Schafberg, which 
 is called the Righi of the Austrian Switzerland. It is some- 
 what higher than its Swiss namesake, and commands a 
 prospect scarcely less extensive and grand. We followed 
 a footpath through the thick forest by the side of a roaring 
 torrent. The morning mist still covered the lake, but the 
 white summits of the Salzburg and Noric Alps opposite 
 us, rose above it, and stood pure and bright in the upper 
 air. We passed a little mill and one or two cottages, and 
 then wound round one of the lesser heights into a deep ravine, 
 down in whose dark shadow we sometimes heard the axe 
 and saw of the mountain woodmen. Finally the path dis- 
 appeared altogether under a mass of logs and rocks, which 
 appeared to have been whirled together by a sudden flood. 
 
CLIMBING THE SCHAFBERG. 261 
 
 We deliberated what to do ; tlie summit rose several 
 thousand feet above us, almost precipitously steep, but we 
 did not like to turn back, and there was still a hope of 
 meeting with the path again. Clambering over the ruins 
 and rubbish, we pulled ourselves by the limbs of tress up a 
 steep ascent and descended again to the stream. We here 
 saw the ravine was closed by a wall of rock, and our only 
 chance was to cross to the west side of the mountain, where 
 the ascent seemed somewhat easier. A couple of mountain 
 maidens whom we fortunately met, carrying home grass for 
 their goats, told us the mountain could be ascended on that 
 side, by one who could climb well — laying a strong emphasis 
 on the word. The very doubt implied in this expression 
 was enough to decide us ; so we began the work. And 
 work it was, too ! The side was very steep, the trees all 
 leaned downwards, and we slipped at every step on the dry 
 leaves and grass. After making a short distance this way 
 with the greatest labor, we came to the track of an ava- 
 lanche, which had swept away the trees and earth. Here 
 the rock had been worn rough by torrents, but by using 
 both hands and feet, we climbed the precipitous side of the 
 mountain, sometimes dragging ourselves up by the branches 
 of trees where the rocks were smooth. After half an hour 
 of such work we came above the forests, on the bare side of 
 the mountain. The summit was far above us, and so steep 
 that our limbs involuntarily shrank from the task of climbing. 
 The side sloped at an angle of nearly sixty degrees, and the 
 least slip threw us flat on our faces. We had to use both 
 hand and foot, and were obliged to rest every few minutes 
 to recover breath. Crimson-flowered moss and bright blue 
 
262 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 gentians covered the rocks, and I filled mj books with 
 blossoms for friends at home. 
 
 Up and up, for what seemed an age, we clambered. So 
 steep was it, that the least rocky projection hid my friend 
 from sight, as he was climbing below me. 1 sometimes 
 started stones, which went down, down, like cannon-ballsj 
 till I could see them no more. At length we reached the 
 region of dwarf pines, which was even more difficult to pass 
 through. Although the mountain was not so steep, this 
 forest, centuries old, reached no higher than our breasts, 
 and the trees leaned downwards, so that we were obliged to 
 take hold of the tops of those above us, and drag ourselves 
 over the others. Here and there lay large patches of snow ; 
 we sat down in the glowing June sun, and bathed our hands 
 and faces in it. Finally, the sky became bluer and broader, 
 the clouds seemed nearer, and a few more steps through the 
 bushes brought us to the summit of the mountain, on the 
 edge of a precipice a thousand feet deep, whose bottom stood 
 in a vast field of snow ! 
 
 "We lay down on the heather, exhausted by five hours' 
 incessant toil, and drank in, like a refreshing draught, the 
 sublimity of the scene. The green lakes of the Salzburg 
 Alps lay far below us, and the whole southern horizon was 
 filled with the mighty range of the Styrian and Noric Alps, 
 their summits of never-melting snow mingling and blending 
 with the cloudS: On the other side the mountains of Salz- 
 burg lifted their ridgy backs from the plains of Bavaria, and 
 the Chiem lake lay spread out in the blue distance. A line 
 of mist far to the north betrayed the path of the Danube, 
 and beyond it we could barely trace the outline of the Bo- 
 
DESCENT TO ST. GILGEN. 263 
 
 hemian mountains. With a glass the spires of Munich, one 
 hundred and twenty miles distant, can be seen. It was a 
 view whose grandeur I can never forget. In that dome 
 of the cloud we seemed to breathe a purer air than that of 
 earth. 
 
 After an hour or two, we began to think of descending, 
 as the path was yet to be found. The summit, which was a 
 mile or more in length, extended farther westward, and by 
 climbing over the dwarf pines for some time, we saw a little 
 wooden house above us. It stood near the highest part of 
 the peak, and two or three men were engaged in repairing 
 it, as a shelter for travellers. They pointed out the path 
 which went down on the side toward St. Gilgen, and we 
 began descending. The mountain on this side is much less 
 steep, but the descent is fatiguing enough. The path led 
 along the side of a glen where mountain goats were grazing, 
 and further down we saw cattle feeding on the little spots of 
 herbage which lay in the forest. My knees became so weak 
 from this continued descent, that they would scarcely sup- 
 port me ; but we were three hours, partly walking and 
 partly running down, before we reached the bottom. Half 
 an hour's walk around the head of the St. Wolfgang See, 
 brought us to the little village of St. Gilgen. 
 
 The valley of St. Gilgen lies like a little paradise between 
 the mountains. Lovely green fields and woods slope gradu- 
 ally from the mountain behind, to the still greener lake 
 spread out before it, in whose bosom the white Alps are 
 mirrored. Its picturesque cottages cluster around the neat 
 church with its lofty spire, and the simple inhabitants have 
 countenances as bright and cheerful as the blue sky above 
 
264 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 them. We breathed an air of poetry. The Arcadian sim- 
 plicity of the people, the pastoral beauty of the fields around 
 and the grandeur of the mountains which shut it out from 
 the world, realized my ideas of a dwelling-place, where, 
 with a few kindred spirits, the bliss of Eden might almost 
 be restored. 
 
 We stopped there two or three hours to relieve our hunger 
 and fatigue. My boots had suffered severely in our moun- 
 tain adventure, and I called at a shoemaker's cottage to get 
 them repaired. 1 sat down and talked for half an hour 
 with the family. The man and his wife spoke of the delight- 
 ful scenery around them, and expressed themselves with 
 correctness and even elegance. They were much pleased 
 that I admired their village so greatly, and related every 
 thing which they supposed could interest me. As I rose to 
 go, my head nearly touched the ceiling, which was very 
 low. The man exclaimed : " Ach Grott ! how tall !" I told 
 him the people were all tall in our country ; he then asked 
 where I came from, and I had no sooner said ** America," 
 than he threw up his hands and uttered an ejaculation of the 
 greatest surprise. His wife observed that " it was wonder- 
 ful how far man was permitted to travel." They wished 
 me a prosperous journey and a safe return home. 
 
 St. Gilgen^was also interesting to me from that beautiful 
 chapter in " Hyperion" — " Footsteps of Angels," — and on 
 passing the church on my way back to the inn, I entered 
 the grave-yard mentioned in it. The green turf grows thick, 
 ly over the rows of mounds, with here and there a ros^ 
 planted by the hand of affection, and the white crosses were 
 hung Avith wreaths, some of which had been freshly added. 
 
'* FOOTSTEPS OF ANGELS.'' 265 
 
 Behind the church, under the shade of a tree, stood a small 
 chapel : I opened the unfastened door, and entered. The 
 afternoon sun shone through the side window, and all was 
 still around. A little shrine, adorned with flowers, stood at 
 the other end, and there were two tablets on the wall, to 
 persons who slumbered beneath. I approached these and 
 read on one of them with feelings not easily described : ** Look 
 not mournfully into the past — it comes not again ; wisely 
 improve the present — it is thine ; and go forward to meet the 
 shadowy future, without fear, and with a manly heart!" 
 This then was the spot where Paul Flemming came in lone- 
 liness and sorrow to muse over what he had lost, and these 
 were the words whose truth and eloquence strengthened and 
 consoled him, " as if the unknown tenant of the gra-v^e had 
 opened his lips of dust and spoken the words of consola- 
 tion his soul needed." 
 
 We reached a little village on the Fuschel See, the same 
 evening, and set off the next morning for Salzburg. The 
 day was hot and w^e walked slowly, so that it was not until 
 two o'clock that wq saw the castellated rocks on the side of 
 the Gaissberg, guarding the entrance to the valley of Salz- 
 burg. A short distance further, the whole glorious pano- 
 rama was spread out below us. From the height on which 
 we stood, we looked directly on the summit of the Capuchin 
 Mountain, which hid part of the city from sight ; the double 
 peak of the Staufen rose opposite, and a heavy storm Avas 
 raging along the Alpine heights around it, while the lovely 
 valley lay in sunshine below, threaded by the bright current 
 of the Salza. As we descended and passed around the foot 
 of the hill, the Untersberg came in sight, whose broad sum- 
 12 
 
266 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 mits lift themselves seven thousand feet above the plain. 
 The legend says that Charlemagne and his warriors sit in 
 its subterraneous caverns in complete armor, and that they 
 will arise and come forth again, when Germany recovers 
 her former power and glory. 
 
 I wish I could convey in words some idea of the elevation 
 of spirit experienced while looking on these eternal moun- 
 tains. They fill the soul with a sensation of power and 
 grandeur which frees it awhile from the cramps and fetters 
 of common life. It rises and expands to the level of their 
 sublimity, until its thoughts soar solemnly aloft, like their 
 summits, piercing the heart of heaven. Their dazzling and 
 imperishable beauty is to the mind an image of its own 
 enduring existence. When I stand upon some snowy summit 
 — the invisible apex of that mighty pyramid — there seems a 
 majesty in my weak will which might defy the elements. 
 This sense of power, inspired by a silent sympathy with the 
 forms of Nature, is beautifully described — as shown in the 
 free, unconscious instincts of childhood — by the poet Uhland, 
 in his ballad of the " Mountain Boy." 
 
 A herd-boy on the mountain's brow, 
 I see the castles all below. 
 The sunbeam here is eai-liest cast 
 And by my side it lingers last — 
 I am the boy of the mountain I 
 
 The mother-house of streams is. here-^ 
 I drink them in their cradles clear; 
 From out the rock they foam below, 
 I spring to catch them as they go ! 
 I am the boy of the mountain ! 
 
THE MOUNTAIN BOY. 267 
 
 To me belongs the mountain's bound, 
 Where gathering tempests march around; 
 But though from north and south they shout. 
 Above them still my song rings out — 
 " I am the boy of the mountain ! ' 
 
 Below me clouds and thunders move; 
 I stand amid the blue above. 
 I shout to them with fearless breast ; 
 " Go leave my father's house in rest !" 
 I am the boy of the mountain ! 
 
 And when the loud bell shakes the spires 
 And flame aloft the signal-fires, 
 I go below and join the throng, 
 And swing my sword and sing my song : 
 *•' I am the boy of the mountain !" 
 
 Salzburg lies on both sides of the Salza, hemmed in on 
 either bend by precipitous mountains. A large fortress 
 overlooks it on the south, from the summit of a perpendicu- 
 lar rock, against Avhich the houses in that part of the city 
 are built. The streets are narrow and crooked, but the 
 ncAver part contains many open squares adorned with hand- 
 some fountains. The variety of costume among the people 
 is very interesting. The inhabitants of the salt district have 
 a peculiar dress ; the women wear round fur caps, with 
 little wings of gauze at the side. I saw other women with 
 head-dresses of gold or silver filigree, something in shape 
 like a Homan helmet, with a projection at the back of the 
 head, a foot long. The most interesting objects in Salzburg 
 to us, were the house of Mozart, in which the composer was 
 born, and the monument lately erected to him. The St. 
 
2^3 
 
 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 Peter's Cliurcli, near bj, contains the tomb of TTnvfln, the 
 great composer, and the Church of St. Sebastian that of the 
 renowned Paracelsus, who was also a native of Salzburg. 
 
 Two or three hours sufficed to see every thing of interest 
 in the city. We had intended to go further through the 
 Alps, to the beautiful vales of the Tyrol, but our time wap 
 getting short ; our boots, which are the pedestrian's sole de- 
 j)endence, began to show symptoms of wearing out ; and our 
 expenses among the lakes and mountains of Upper Austria, 
 left us but two florins apiece, so we reluctantly turned our 
 backs upon the snowy hills and set out for Munich, ninety 
 miles distant. After passing the night at Saalbruck, on the 
 banks of the stream which separates the two kingdoms, we 
 entered Bavaria next morning. I could not help feeling 
 glad to leave Austria, although within her bounds I had 
 passed scenes whose beauty will long haunt me, and met 
 with many honest, friendly hearts among her people. We 
 noticed a change as soon as we had crossed the border. 
 The roads were neater and handsomer, and the country 
 people greeted us in passing, with a friendly cheerfulness that 
 made us feel half at home. The houses arc built in the 
 picturesque Swiss fashion, their balconies often ornamented 
 with curious figures, carved in wood. Many of them, where 
 they are situated remote from a church, have a little bell on 
 the roof which they ring for morning and evening prayers, 
 and we often heard these simple monitors sounding from the 
 cottages as we passed by. 
 
 The next night we stopped at the little village of Stein, 
 famous in former times for its robber knight, Hans von Stein. 
 The ruins of his castle stand on the rock above, and the 
 
THE FIELD OF HOHENLINDEN. 269 
 
 caverns liewn in the sides of the precipice, where he used 
 to confine his prisoners, are still visible. Walking on through 
 a pleasant, well-cultivated country, we came to Wasserburg, 
 on the Inn. The situation of the city is peculiar. The Inn 
 has gradually worn his channel deeper in the sandy soil, so 
 that he now flows at the bottom of a glen, a hundred feet 
 below the plains around. Wasserburg lies in a basin formed 
 by the change of the current, which flows around it like a 
 horse-shoe, leaving only a narrow neck of land which con- 
 nects it with the country above. 
 
 We left the little village where we were quartered for 
 the night and took a foot-path which led across the country 
 to the field of Hohenlinden, about six miles distant. The 
 name had been familiar to me from childhood, and my love 
 for Campbell, with the recollection of the school-exhibitions 
 where '' On Linden when the sun was low " had been so 
 often declaimed, induced me to make the excursion to it. 
 We traversed a large forest, belonging to the King of Bava- 
 ria, and came out on a plain covered with grain-fields and 
 bounded on the right by a semicircle of low hills. Over 
 the fields, about two miles distant, a tall minaret-like spire 
 rose fi'om a small cluster of houses, and this was Hohenlin- 
 den ! To tell the truth, I had been expecting something 
 more. The " hills of blood-stained snow " are very small 
 hills indeed, and the " Isar rolling rapidly," is several miles 
 off; it was the spot, however, and we recited Campbell's 
 poem, of course, and brought away a few wild flowers as 
 memorials. There is no monument or any other token of 
 the battle, and the people seem to have already forgotten the 
 scene of Moreau's victory and their defeat. 
 
2Y0 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 From a hill twelve miles off we had our first view of the 
 spires of Munich, like distant ships over the sea-like plain. 
 They kept in sight until we arrived at eight o'clock in the 
 evening, after a walk of more than thirty miles. We cross- 
 ed the rapid 1 . on three bridges, entered the magnificent 
 Isar Grate, and were soon comfortably quartered in the heart 
 of Munich. Entering the city without knowing a single 
 soul within it, we made within a few minutes an agreeable 
 acquaintance. After we passed the Isar Grate, we began 
 looking for a decent inn, for the day's walk had been 
 fatiguing. Presently a young man, who had been watching 
 us for some time, came up, and said that if we would allow 
 him, he would conduct us to a good lodging-place. Finding 
 we were strangers, he expressed the greatest regret that he 
 had not time to' go with us every day around the city. Our 
 surprise and delight at the splendor of Munich, he said, 
 would more than repay him for th^ trouble. In his anxiety 
 to show us something, he took us some distance out of the 
 way, (although it was growing dark and we were very 
 tired,) to see the Palace and the Theatre, with its front of 
 rich frescoes. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 MUNICH. 
 
 The Splendor of Munich — King Ludwig's Labors— The Ludwigstrasse— The Library 
 — The Church of St. Louis— Monument to Eugene Beauliarnois— The Parks on the 
 Isar — The New Eesidence — Magnificence of its Halls — Hall of the Throne— The 
 King's Apartments— The Eoyal Chapel — A Picture of Devotion— The Glyptothek 
 — Its Sculptures— The Son of Niobe— The Pinacothek— A Giant— The Basilica— 
 Schwan thaler's Studio — History of an Artisan— Condition of our Finances. 
 
 MuxicH, June 14, 1845. 
 I THOUGHT I liad seen every thing in Vienna that could 
 excite admiration or gratify fancy ; but here I have my 
 former sensations to live over again, in an augmented degree. 
 It is well I was at first somewhat prepared by our previous- 
 travel, otherwise the glare and splendor of Avealth and art 
 in this G erman Athens might blind me to the beauties of the 
 cities we shall yet visit. I have been walking in a dream 
 where the fairy tales of boyhood Avere realized, and the 
 golden and jewelled halls of the Eastern genii rose glittering 
 around me — a vision of the brain no more. All 1 had con- 
 ceived of oriental magnificence, all descriptions of the splen- 
 dor of kingly halls and palaces, fall sliort of what I here 
 
272- 
 
 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 see. Where shall I begin to describe the crowd of splendid 
 edifices that line its streets, or how give an idea of the pro- 
 fusion of paintings and statues — of marble, jasper and gold 1 
 
 Art has done every thing for Munich. It lies on a large, 
 flat plain, sixteen hundred feet above the sea, and continually 
 exposed to the cold winds from the Alps. At the beginning 
 of the present century it was but a third-rate city, and was 
 rarely visited by foreigners. Since that time its population 
 and limits have been doubled, and magnificent edifices 
 in every style of architecture erected, rendering it scarcely 
 secondary in this respect to any capital in Europe. Every 
 art that wealth or taste could devise, seems to have been spent 
 in its decoration. Broad, spacious streets and squares have 
 been laid out, churches, halls and colleges erected, and 
 schools of painting and sculpture established, which draw 
 artists from all parts of the world. All this is the result of 
 the taste of the present king, Ludwig I., who began twenty 
 or thirty years ago, when he was Crown Prince, to collect 
 the best German artists around him and form plans for the 
 execution of his grand design. He can boast of having 
 done more for the arts than any other living monarch, and 
 if he had accomplished it all without oppressing his people, 
 he would deserve an immortality of fame. 
 
 Let us take a stroll down the Ludwigstrasse. As we pass 
 the Theatiner Church, with its dome and towers, the broad 
 street opens before us, stretching away to the north, between 
 rows of magnificent buildings. Just at this southern end, 
 is the Hrhlusshallb, an open temple of white marble, terminat- 
 ing the avenue. To the right of us extend the arcades, 
 with the trees of the Eoyal Garden peeping above them ; 
 
THE CHURCH OF ST. LOUIS. 273 
 
 on the left is the spacious concert building of the Odeon, 
 and the palace of the Duke of Leuchtenberg, son of Eugene 
 Beauharnois. Passing through a row of palace-like private 
 buildings, we come to the Army Department, on the right — 
 a neat and tasteful building of white sandstone. Beside it 
 stands the Library, which possesses the first special claim on 
 our admiration. With its splendid front of five hundred 
 and eighteen feet, the yellowish brown cement with which 
 the body is covered, making an agreeable contrast with the 
 dark red window-arches and cornices, and the statues of 
 Homer, Hippocrates, Thucydides and Aristotle guarding the 
 portal, is it not a worthy receptacle for the treasures of 
 ancient and modern lore which its halls contain ? 
 
 Nearly opposite stands the Institute for the Blind, a plain 
 but large building of dark red brick, covered with cement, 
 and further, the Ludwig's Kirche, or Church of St. Louis. 
 How lightly the two square towers of gray marble lift their 
 network of sculpture ! Over the arched portal stand marble 
 statues by Schwanthaler, and the roof of brilliant tiles 
 worked into mosaic, resembles a rich Turkey carpet covering 
 the whole. We must enter, to get an idea of the splendor of 
 this church. Instead of the pointed arch which one would 
 expect to find above his head, the lofty pillars on each side 
 bear an unbroken semicircular vault, which is painted a 
 brilliant blue, and spangled with silver stars. These pillars, 
 and the little arches above, which spring from them, are 
 illuminated with gold and brilliant colors, and each side- 
 chapel is a casket of richness and elegance. The Avindows 
 are of silvered glass, through which the light glimmers softly 
 on the splendor within. The end of the chancel behind the 
 ]2* 
 
274 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 higli altar, is taken up with Cornelius's celebrated fresco 
 painting of the " Last Judgment,"— the largest paintiug in 
 the world — and the circular dome in the centre of the cross 
 contains groups of martyrs, prophets, saints, and kings, 
 painted in fresco on a ground of gold. The work of Cor- 
 nelius has been greatly praised for sublimity of design and 
 beauty of execution, by many acknowledged judges ; I was 
 disappointed in it, but the fault possibly lay in me, and not 
 in the painting. The richness and elegance of the church 
 were so new to me, that I can scarcely decide whether I am 
 impressed by its novelty or charmed by its beauty. 
 
 As we leave the church and walk further, the street expands 
 suddenly into a broad square. One side is formed by the new 
 University building, and the other by the Eoyal Seminary, 
 both displaying in their architecture new forms of the grace- 
 ful Byzantine school, which the architects of Munich have 
 adapted in a striking manner to so many varied purposes. 
 On each side stands a splendid colossal fountain of bronze, 
 throwing up a great mass of water, which falls in a triple 
 cataract to the marble basin below. A short distance 
 beyond this square the Ludwigstrnsse terminates. The end 
 will be closed by a magnificent gate, in a style to correspond 
 with the unequalled avenue to which it will give entrance. 
 
 We went one morning to see the collection of paintings 
 formerly belonging to Eugene Beauharnois, who was 
 brother-in-law to the present king of Bavaria, in the palace 
 of his son, the Duke of Leuchtenberg. We have since seen 
 in the St. Michael's Church, the monument to Eugene, from 
 the chisel of Thorwaldsen. Tlie noble figure of the son of 
 Josephine is represented in the Roman mantle, with his 
 
THE PARKS ON THE ISAR. 275 
 
 helmet and sword lying on tlie ground beside Mm. On one 
 side sits History, writing on a tablet ; on tbe other, stand 
 tlie two brother-angels, Death and Immortality. They lean 
 lovino-ly together, with arms around each other, but the 
 sweet countenance of Death has a cast of sorrow, as he 
 stands with inverted torch and a wreath of poppies among 
 his clustering locks. Immortality, crowned with never- 
 fading flowers, looks upwards with a smile of triumph, and 
 holds in one hand his blazing torch. It is a beautiful idea, 
 and Thorwaldsen has made the marble eloquent with feeling. 
 
 The inside of the square formed by the Arcades and the 
 New Eesidence, is filled with noble old trees, which in sum- 
 mer make a leafy roof over the pleasant walks. Passing 
 through the northern Arcade, one comes into the magnificent 
 park, called the English Garden, which extends more than 
 four miles along the bank of the Isar, several branches of 
 whose milky current wander through it, and form one or two 
 pretty cascades. It is a beautiful alternation of forest and 
 meadow, and has all the richness and garden-like luxuriance 
 of English scenery. Winding walks lead along the Isar, or 
 through the wood of venerable oaks, and sometimes a lawn 
 of half a mile in length, with a picturesque temple at its 
 farther end, comes in sight through the trees. I was 
 better pleased with this park than with the Prater in Vienna. 
 Its paths are always filled with persons enjoying the change 
 from the dusty streets to its quiet and cool retirement. 
 
 The New Residence is not only one of the wonders of 
 Munich, but of the world. Although commenced in 1826 and 
 carried on constantly since that time by a number of architects, 
 sculptors, and painters, it is not yet finished; and if Art 
 
 / 
 
276 VIEWS A -FOOT, 
 
 were not inexhaustible, it would be difficult to imagine what 
 more could be added. The north side of the Max Joseph 
 Platz is taken up by its front of four hundred and thirty 
 feet, which was nine years in building, under the direction 
 of the architect Klenze. The exterior is copied after the 
 Palazzo Pitti, in Florence. The northern front, which faces 
 on the Royal Garden, is now nearly finished. It has the 
 enormous length of eight hundred feet ; in the middle is a 
 portico of ten Ionic columns, but instead of supporting a 
 triangular fagade, each pillar stands separate, and bears a 
 marble statue from the chisel of Schwanthaler. 
 
 The interior of the building does not disappoint the pro- 
 mise of the outside. It is open every afternoon in the absence 
 of the king, for the inspection of visitors ; fortunately for us, 
 his majesty is at present on a journey through his provinces 
 on the Rhine. We went early to the waiting hall, where 
 several travellers were already assembled, and at four o'clock, 
 were admitted into the neAver part of the palace, containing 
 the throne hall, ball-room, etc. On entering the first hall, 
 designed for the lackeys and royal servants, we were all 
 obliged to thrust our feet into cloth slippers to walk over the 
 polished mosaic floor. The second hall, also for servants, 
 gives tokens of increasing splendor in the richer decorations 
 of the walls and the more elaborate mosaic of the floor. We 
 next entered the receiving saloon, in which the Court Mar- 
 shal receives the guests. The ceiling is of arabesque sculp- 
 ture, profusely painted and gilded. Passing through a little 
 cabinet, we entered the great dancing saloon. Its floor is 
 the richest mosaic of wood of different colors, the sides are 
 of polished scagliola, and the ceiling a dazzling blaze of 
 
THE THRONE HALL, 2*77 
 
 colors and gold. At one end is a galL^iy for the orchestra, 
 supported by six columns of variegated marble, above which 
 are six dancing nymphs, painted to represent life. 
 
 We next entered two smaller rooms containing the por- 
 traits of beautiful women, principally from the German no- 
 bility. I gave the preference to the daughter of Marco 
 Bozzaris, now maid of honor to the Queen of Greece. She 
 had a wild dark eye, a beautiful proud lip, and her rich 
 black hair rolled in glossy waves down her neck, from under 
 the red Grecian cap stuck jauntily on the side of her head. 
 She wore a scarf and close-fitting vest embroidered with gold, 
 and there was a free lofty spirit in her countenance worthy 
 the name she bore. These pictures form a gallery of beauty, 
 whose equal cannot easily be found. 
 
 Finally we entered the Hall of the Throne. Here the 
 encaustic decoration, so plentifully employed in the other 
 rooms, is dropped, and an effect even more brilliant obtained 
 by the simple use of marble and gold. Picture a long hall 
 with a floor of polished marble, on each side twelve columns 
 of white marble with gilded capitals, between which stand 
 colossal statues of gold. At the other end is the throne of 
 gold and crimson, with gorgeous hangings of crimson velvet. 
 The twelve statues in the hall are called the " Wittelsbach 
 Ancestors," and represent renowned members of the house 
 of Wittelsbac-h, from which the royal family of Bavaria is 
 descended. They were cast in bronze by Stiglmaier, after 
 the models of Sch\vanthaler, and then completely covered 
 with a coating of gold, so that they resemble solid golden 
 statues. The value of the precious metal on each one is 
 about $3,000, as they are nine feet in height ! What would 
 
278 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 the politicians who make such an outcry about the papering 
 of the President's House, say to such a palace as this ? 
 
 Heturning to the starting point, we crossed to the other 
 wing of the edifice and joined the party who came to visit 
 the apartments of the king. Here we were led through two 
 or three rooms, appropriated to the servants, with all the 
 splendor of marble doors, floors of mosaic, and frescoed 
 ceilings. From these we entered the king's apartments. 
 The entrance hails are decorated with paintings of the Ar- 
 gonauts and illustrations of the Hymns of Hesiod, after 
 drawings by Schwanthaler. Then came the Service Hall 
 containing frescoes illustrating Homer, by Schnorr, and the 
 Throne Hall, with Schwanthaler's bas-reliefs of the songs of 
 Pindar, on a ground of gold. The throne stands under a 
 splendid crimson canopy. The Dining Room, with its floor 
 of polished wood, is filled with illustrations of the songs of 
 Anacreon. To these follow the Dressing Room, with twen- 
 ty-seven illustrations of the Comedies of Aristophanes, and 
 the sleeping chamber with frescoes after the poems of Theo- 
 critus, and two beautiful bas-reliefs representing angels 
 bearing children to Heaven. It is no wonder the King 
 writes poetry, when he breathes, eats, and sleeps in an atmo- 
 sphere of it. 
 
 Adjoining the new residence on the east, is the Royal 
 Chapel, lately finished in the Byzantine style, under the 
 direction of Klenze. To enter it, is like stepping into a 
 casket of jewels. The sides are formed by a double range 
 of arches, the windows being so far back as to be almost out 
 of sight, so that the eye falls on nothing but coloring and 
 gold. The lower row of arches is of alternate green and 
 
THE ROYAL CHAPEL 27&- 
 
 purple marble, beautifully polished ; but the upper, as well 
 as the small chancel behind the high altar, is entirely covered 
 with fresco paintings on a ground of gold. The richness and 
 splendor of the whole church is absolutely incredible. Even 
 after one has seen the Ludwig's Kirche and the Residence 
 itself, it excites astonishments I was surprised, however, 
 to find at this age a painting on the wall behind the altar, 
 representing the Almighty. It seems as if human presump- 
 tion has no limit. The simple altar of Athens, with its in- 
 scription " To the Unknown God,'" was more' truly reverent 
 than this. As I sat down awhile under one of the arches, a 
 poor woman came in, carrying a heavy basket, and going 
 to the steps which led to the altar, knelt down and prayed, 
 spreading her arms out in the form of a cross. Then, after 
 stooping and kissing the first step, slie dragged her knees 
 upon it, and commenced praying again with outspread arms. 
 This performance she continued until she had climbed them 
 all, which occupied some time ; then, as if she had fulfilled a 
 vow, she turned and departed. She was undoubtedly sin- 
 cere in her piety, but it made me sad to look upon such de- 
 luded superstition. 
 
 Yesterday morning we visited the Glyptothek, the finest 
 collection of ancient sculpture, except that in the British 
 Museum, I have yet seen, and perhaps elsewhere unsurpass- 
 ed, north of the Alps. The building, which was finished by 
 Klenze in 1830, has an Ionic portico of white marble, with 
 a group of allegorical figures, representing Sculpture 
 and the kindred arts. On each side of the portico, there are 
 three niches in the front, containing on one side, Pericles, 
 Phidias and Yulcan; on the other, Hadrian, Prometheus, 
 
280 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 and Daedalus. The building forms a hollow square, and is 
 lighted entirely from the inner side. There are in all 
 twelve halls, each containing the remains of a particular era 
 in the art, and arranged according to time, so that, beginning 
 with the clumsy productions of the ancient Egyptians, one 
 passes through the different stages of Grecian art, afterwards 
 that of Rome, and finally ends with the works of our own 
 times — the almost Grecian perfection of Thorwaldsen and 
 Canova. These halls are worthy to hold such treasures, and 
 what more could be said of them ? The floors are of 
 marble mosaic, the sides of green or purple scagliola, 
 and the vaulted ceilings covered with raised ornaments on a 
 ground of gold. No two are alike in color and decoration, 
 and yet there is a unity of taste and design in the whole, 
 which renders the variety delightful. 
 
 From the Egyptian Hall, we enter one containing the 
 oldest remains of Grecian sculpture. Then follow the cele- 
 brated Egina marbles, from the temple of Jupiter Panhel- 
 lenius, on the island of Egina. They formerly stood in the 
 two porticoes, the one group representing the fight for the 
 body of Laomedon, the other the struggle for the dead Pa- 
 troclus. The parts wanting have been admirably restored 
 by Thorwaldsen. They form almost the only existing spe- 
 cimens of the Eginetan school. Passing through the Apollo 
 Hall, we enter the large hall of Bacchus, in which the pro- 
 gress of the art is distinctly apparent. A satyr, lying asleep 
 on a goat-skin which he has thrown over a rock, is believed 
 to be the work of Praxiteles. The relaxation of the figure 
 and perfect repose of every limb, is wonderful. The coun- 
 ti??aance has traits of individuality which led me to think it 
 
THE SON OF NIOBE. 281 
 
 migM have been a portrait, perhaps of some rude country 
 swain. 
 
 In the Hall of Niobe, which follows, is one of the most 
 perfect works that ever grew into life under a sculptor's 
 chisel. Mutilated as it is, without head and arms, I never 
 saw a more expressive figure. Ilioneus, the son of Niobe, 
 is represented as kneeling, apparently in the moment in 
 which Apollo draws his bow, and there is an imploring sup- 
 plication in his attitude which is touching in the highest 
 degree. His beautiful young limbs shrink involuntarily 
 from the deadly shaft ; there is an expression of prayer, of 
 agony, in the position of his body. It should be left un- 
 touched. No head could be added, which would equal that 
 which one pictures to himself, while gazing upon it. 
 
 The Pinacothek is a magnificent building of yellow sand- 
 stone, five hundred and thirty feet long, containing thirteen 
 hundred pictures, selected with great care from the private 
 collection of the king, which amounts to nine thousand. 
 Above the cornice on the southern side, stand twenty-five 
 colossal statues of celebrated painters, by Schwanthaler. 
 As we approached, the tall bronze door was opened by a 
 servant in the Bavarian livery, whose size harmonized so 
 well with the giant proportions of the building, that, until I 
 stood beside him and could contrast him with myself, I did 
 not notice his enormous frame. I saw then that he must be 
 near eight feet high, and stout in proportion. He reminded 
 me of the great " Baver of Trient," in Vienna. The Pina- 
 cothek contains the most complete collection of works by 
 old German artists, anywhere to be found. There are, in 
 the hall of the Spanish masters, half a dozen of Murillo's 
 
282 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 inimitable beggar groups. It was a relief, after looking 
 upon the distressingly stiff figures of the old German school, 
 to view these fresh natural countenances. 
 
 One of the most remarkable buildings now in the course 
 of erection is the Basilica, or Church of St. Bonifacius. It 
 represents another form of the Byzantine style, a double 
 edifice, a little like a North Hiver steamboat, with a two- 
 story cabin on deck. The inside is not yet finished, 
 although the artists have been at work on it for six years, 
 but we heard many accounts of its splendor, which is said to 
 exceed anything that has been yet done in Munich. We 
 visited to-day the atelier of Schwanthaler, which is always 
 open to strangers. The sculptor himself was not there, but 
 five or six of his scholars were at work in the rooms, build- 
 ing up clay statues after his models, and working out bas- 
 reliefs in frames. We saw here the original models of the 
 statues on the Pinacothek, and the " Wittelsbach Ancestors," 
 in the Throne Hall of the palace. 
 
 Our new-found friend came to visit us last evening and 
 learn our impressions of Munich. In the course of conver- 
 sation we surprised him by revealing the name of our coun- 
 try, for he had taken us for wandering German students. 
 His countenance brightened up, and he asked us many ques- 
 tions about the state of society in America. In return, he 
 told us something more about himself — his story was simple, 
 but it interested me. His father was a merchant, who, hav- 
 ing been ruined by unlucky transactions, died, leaving a 
 numerous family without the means of support. His chil- 
 dren were obliged to commence life alone and unaided, 
 which, in a country where labor is so cheap, is difficult and 
 
THE STORY OF AN ARTISAN. 283 
 
 disheartening. Our friend chose the profession of a machin- 
 ist, which, after encountering great obstacles, he succeeded 
 in learning, and now supports himself as a common laborer. 
 But his position in this respect, prevents him from occupying 
 that station in society for which he is intellectually fitted. 
 His own words, uttered with a simple pathos which I can 
 never forget, will best describe how painful this must be to 
 a sensitive spirit. " I tell you thus frankly my feelings," 
 said he, " because I know you will understand me. I could 
 not say this to any of my associates, for they would not 
 comprehend it, and they would say I am proud, because I 
 cannot bring my soul down to their level. I am poor and 
 have but little to subsist upon ; but the spirit has needs as 
 well as the body, and I feel it a duty and a desire to satisfy 
 them also. When I am with any of my common fellow- 
 laborers, what do I gain from them ? Their leisure hours 
 are spent in drinking and idle amusement, and I cannot join 
 them, for I have no sympathy with such things. To mingle 
 with those above me, would be impossible. Therefore I am 
 alone — I have no associate !" 
 
 I have gone into minute, and it may be tiresome detail, 
 in describing some of the edifices of Munich, because it 
 seemed the only way in which I could give an idea of their 
 wonderful beauty. It is true that in copying after the man- 
 ner of the daguerreotype, there is danger of imitating its 
 exaggeration. We leave to-morrow morning, having receiv- 
 ed the sum written for, twenty florins (eight dollars), which, 
 after paying the expenses of our stay here, will barely ena- 
 ble us to reach Heidelberg. It is a week's journey, and we 
 have even less than twenty kreutzers a day, to travel upon. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 JOURNEY THROUGH W U R T E M B U R G AND 
 RETURN TO FRANKFORT, 
 
 The Railroad to Augsburg— Traces of Ancient Splendor— "Walk to Ulm — ^Entering 
 Wurtenaburg— Seeking Lodgings in the Rain — The " Golden Wheel"— Funds — 
 Good-bye to the Alps— The Valley of the Fils— The Suabian Land— Arrival at 
 Stuttgard— Thorwaldsen's Statue of Schiller— The Bewildered Omnibus Driver — 
 Walking in the Rain— Ludwigsburg— Empty Pockets— Beauty of the Zabergau- 
 The Last Night — Approaching Heidelberg — Familiar Scenes — The Castle — An End 
 of Hardship— A Student's Burial— Return to Frankfort— A Midnight Farewell. 
 
 We left Munich in the morning train for Augsburg. Be- 
 tween the two cities extends a vast unbroken plain, exceed- 
 ingly barren and monotonous. Here and there is a little 
 scrubby woodland, and sometimes we passed over a muddy 
 stream which came down from the Alps. The land is not 
 more than half-cultivated, and the villages are small and 
 poor. We saw many of the peasants at the stations, in 
 their gay Sunday dresses, the women wearing short gowns 
 with laced boddices of gay colors, and little caps on the top 
 of their heads, with streamers of ribbons three feet long. 
 After two hours' ride, we saw the tall towers of Augsburg, 
 and alighted on the outside of the wall. The deep moat 
 
286 
 
 whlcli surrounds tlie city is overgrown witli velvet turf, tlie 
 towers and bastions are empty and desolate, and we passed 
 unchallenged under the gloomy archway. Immediately on 
 entering the city, signs of its ancient splendor are apparent. 
 The houses are old, many of them with quaint, elaborately 
 carved ornaments, and faded fresco paintings. The latter 
 generally represent some scene from the Bible history, 
 encircled with arabesque borders, and pious maxims in 
 illuminated scrolls. We went into the old Ratlihaus, whose 
 golden hall still speaks of the days of Augsburg's pride. I 
 saw in the basement a bronze eagle, weighing sixteen tons, 
 with an inscription on the pedestal stating that it was cast 
 in 1606, and formerly stood on the top of an ohl public 
 building, since torn down. In front of the Rathhaus is a 
 fine bronze fountain, with a number of figures of angels and 
 tritons. 
 
 The same afternoon we left Augsburg for Ulm. Long, 
 low ranges of hills, running from the Danube, stretched far 
 across the country, and between them lay many rich, green 
 valleys. We passed, occasionally, large villages, perhaps 
 as old as the times of the Crusaders, and appearing quite 
 pastoral and romantic from the outside ; but we were always 
 glad when we had gone through their filth and into the 
 clean country again. On the afternoon of the second day 
 we came in sight of the fertile plain of the Danube ; far to 
 the right lay the field of Blenheim, where Marlborough 
 and the Prince Eugene conquered the united French and 
 Bavarian forces and decided the war of the Spanish suc- 
 cession. 
 
 We determined to reich Uhn the same evenirg, although 
 
286 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 a heavy storm was raging along the distant hills ofWiirtem- 
 burg. The dark mass of the mighty Cathedral rose m the 
 distance through the twilight, a mountain in comparison 
 with the little houses clustered around its base. We 
 reached New Ulm, finally, and passed over the lieavy 
 wooden bridge into Wiirtemburg, unchallenged for passport 
 or baggage. The Danube is here a little muddy stream, 
 hardly as large as my native Brandywine, and a traveller 
 who sees it at Ulm for the first time would most probably be 
 disappointed. It is not until below Vienna, where it receives 
 the Drave and Save, that it becomes a river of more than 
 ordinary magnitude. 
 
 We entered Ulm, as I have already said. It was after 
 nine o'clock, nearly dark, and beginning to rain ; we had 
 walked thirty-three miles, and being of course tired, we 
 entered the first inn we saw. But, to our consternation, it 
 was impossible to get a place — the fair had just commenced, 
 and the inn was full to the roof. We must needs hunt 
 another, and then another, and yet another, with like fate at 
 each. It grew quite dark, the rain increased, and we were 
 unacquainted with the city. I became desperate, and at 
 last, when we had stopped at the eighth inn in vain, I told 
 the people we must have lodgings, for it was impossible Ave 
 should walk around in the rain all night. Some of the 
 guests interfering in our favor, the hostess finally sent a ser- 
 vant with us to the first hotel in the city. I told him on the 
 way we were Americans, strangers in Ulm, and not accus^ 
 tomed to sleeping in the streets. " Well," said he, " I will 
 go before, and recommend you to the landlord of the Golden 
 Wheel." I knew not what magic he used, but in half an 
 
TEE VALLEY OF THE FIL^'. 287 
 
 hour our weary limbs were stretclied in deliglitful repose, 
 and we thanked Heaven more gratefully than ever, for the 
 blessing of a good bed. The night's lodging, however, told 
 severely upon our finances, and when we left the city, for 
 our walk of a hundred and twenty miles, to Heidelberg, we 
 had but sixty cents apiece in our pockets. 
 
 There is an immense fortification now in progress of erec- 
 tion behind Ulm. It leans on the side of the hill which 
 rises from the Danube, and must be nearly a mile in length. 
 Hundreds of laborers are at work, and from the appearance 
 of the foundations, many years will be required to finish it. 
 The lofty mountain-plain which we afterwards traversed for 
 eight or ten miles, divides the waters of the Danube from 
 the Rhine. From the heights above Ulm, we bade adieu to 
 the far, misty Alps, until we shall see them again in Swit- 
 zerland, Late in the afternoon, we came to a lovely green 
 valley, sunk as it were in the earth. Around us, on all 
 sides, stretched the bare, lofty plains ; but the valley lay 
 below, its deep sides covered with the richest forest. At 
 the bottom flowed the Fils. Our road led directly down the 
 side ; the glen spread out broader as we advanced, and 
 smiling villages stood beside the stream. A short distance 
 before reaching Esslingen, we came upon the banks of the 
 ^N'eckar, whom we hailed as an old acquaintance, although 
 much smaller here in his mountain home than when he 
 sweeps the walls of Heidelberg, 
 
 Delightful Wiirtemburg ! Shall I ever forget thy lovely 
 green vales, watered by the classic current of the Neckar, 
 or thy lofty hills covered with vineyards and waving forests, 
 and crowned with heavy ruins, that tell many a tale of Bar- 
 
288 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 barossa and Duke TJlric and Goetz with the Iron Hand! 
 No — were even the Suabian hills less beautiful — were the 
 Suabian people less faithful and kind and true, still I would 
 love the land for the great spirits it has produced ; still 
 would the birth-place of Frederick Schiller, of Uhland and 
 HaufiP, be sacred. I do not wonder that Wiirtemburg can 
 boast such glorious poets. Its lovely landscapes seem to 
 have been made expressly for the cradle of Genius ; amid 
 no other scenes could his childhood catch a more benign 
 inspiration. Even the common people are deeply imbued 
 with a poetic feeling. "We saw it in t^heir friendly greetings, 
 and open, expressive countenances ; it is shown in their love 
 for their beautiful homes, and the rapture and reverence with 
 which they speak of their country's bards. No river in the 
 world, equal to the Neckar in size, flows for its whole course 
 through more delightful scenery, or among kinder and hap- 
 pier people. 
 
 After leaving Esslingen, we followed its banks for some 
 time, at the foot of an amphitheatre of hills, covered to the 
 very summit, as far as the eye could reach, with vineyards. 
 The morning was cloudy, and white mist- wreaths hung 
 along the sides. We took a road that led over the top of a 
 range, and on arriving at the summit, saw all at once the 
 city of Stuttgard, lying beneath our feet. It lay in a basin 
 encircled by mountains, with a narrow valley opening to the 
 south-east, and running off between the hills to the Neckar. 
 The situation of the city is one of wonderful beauty, and even 
 after seeing Salzburg, I could not but be charmed with it. 
 
 I inquired immediately for the monument of Schiller, for 
 there was little else in the city I cared to see. We had be- 
 
THE STATUE OF SCHILLER. 289 
 
 come tired of running about cities, hunting this or tliat old 
 church or palace, which perhaps was nothing when found, 
 Stuttgard has neither galleries, ruins, nor splendid buildings, 
 to interest the traveller ; but it has Thorwaldsen's statue of 
 Schiller, calling up at the same time its shame and its glory. 
 For the poet in his youth was obliged to fly from this very 
 same city — from home and friends, to escape the persecution 
 of the government on account of the free sentiments expressed 
 in his early works. We found the statue, without much dif- 
 ficulty. It stands in the Schloss Platz, at the southern end of 
 the city, in an unfavorable situation, surrounded by dark old 
 buildings. It should rather be placed aloft on a mountain 
 summit, in the pure, free air of heaven, braving the storm 
 and the tempest. The figure is fourteen feet high, and stands 
 on a pedestal of bronze, with bas-reliefs on the four sides. 
 The head, crowned with a laurel wreath, is inclined as if in 
 deep thought, and all the earnest soul is seen in the coun- 
 tenance. Thorwaldsen has copied so truly the expression 
 of poetic reverie, that I waited, half-expecting he would lift 
 his head and look around him. 
 
 As we passed out the eastern gate, the workmen were busy 
 near the city, making an embankment for the new railroad 
 to Heilbronn, and we were obliged to wade through half a 
 mile of mud. Finally the road turned to the left over a 
 mountain, and we walked on in the rain, regardless of the 
 touching entreaties of an omnibus-driver, who felt a great 
 concern for our health, especially as he had two empty seats. 
 I shall never forget the man's amazement when I gravely 
 assured him that we preferred walking in the rain. " You 
 need only pay me half the fare," he urged. " If it was fair 
 13 
 
290 TIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 weather,'' said I, " I would ride ; but I would rather walk 
 when it rains." "You will get sick," he persisted. "No," I 
 answered, " I would get sick if I rode." The man must have 
 thought us insane, for he turned at last with a look of mingled 
 pity and horror, whipped his horses, and drove away from us. 
 There is a peculiarly agreeable sensation in walking in a 
 storm, when the winds sweep by and the rain-drops rattle 
 through the trees, and the dark clouds roll past just above 
 one's head. It gives a dash of sublimity to the most common 
 scene. If the rain did not finally soak through the boots, 
 and if one did not lose every romantic feeling in wet gar- 
 ments, I would prefer storm to sunshine, for visiting some 
 kinds of scenery. We saw the North Coast of Ireland and the 
 Giant's Causeway in stormy weather, at the expense of being 
 completely drenched, it is true ; but our recollections of that 
 wild day's journey are as vivid as any event of our lives — 
 and the name of the Giant's Causeway calls up a series of 
 pictures as terribly sublime as any we would wish to behold. 
 
 The rain at last came down a little too hard for comfort, 
 and we were quite willing to take shelter when we reached 
 Ludwigsburg. This is here called a new city, having been 
 laid out with broad streets and spacious squares, about a 
 century ago, and is now about the size of our five-year old 
 city of Milwaukie ! It is the chief military station of Wiir- 
 temburg, and has a splendid castle and gardens, belonging to 
 the king. A few miles to the eastward is the little village 
 where Schiller was born. It is said that the house in Avhich 
 liis parents lived is still standing. 
 
 It was not the weather alone which prevented our making 
 a pilgrimage thither, nor was it alone a peculiar fondness for 
 
THE ZABERQAU. 291 
 
 rain which induced us to persist in walking in the storm. 
 Our feeble pockets, if they could have raised an audible 
 jingle, would have told another tale. Our scanty allowance 
 was dwindling rapidly away, in spite of a desperate system of 
 economy. It was the evening of the third day since leaving 
 Ulm, and our sixty cents were almost exhausted. As soon 
 therefore as the rain slackened a little, we started again, 
 although the roads Avere very bad. At Betigheim, where we 
 passed the night, the people told us of a much nearer and 
 more beautiful road, passing through the Zabergau, a region 
 famed for its fertility and pastoral beauty. At the inn we 
 were charged higher than usual (five cents) for a bed, so that 
 we had but thirteen kreutzers to start with in the morning. Our 
 fare that day was a little bread and water ; we walked steadily 
 on, but, owing to the wet roads, made only thirt}^ miles. 
 
 A more delightful region than the Zabergau I have seldom 
 seen. The fields were full of rich, heavy grain, and the 
 trees had a luxuriance of foliage that reminded me of the 
 vale of the Jed, in Scotland. The long hills were covered 
 with waving fields of grain, except where they were steep 
 and rocky, and the vineyard terraces rose one above another. 
 Sometimes a fine old forest grew along the summit, like a 
 mane waving back from the curved neck of a steed, and 
 white villages lay coiled in the valleys between. A line of 
 blue mountains always closed the vista, on looking down 
 one of these long valleys ; occasionally a ruined castle with 
 donjon tower, was seen on a mountain at the side, making 
 the picture complete. As we lay sometimes on the hillside 
 and looked on one of those sweet vales, we were astonished 
 at its Arcadian beauty. The meadows were as smooth as a 
 
292 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 mirror, and there seemed to be scarcely a grass-blade out of 
 place. The streams wound through with a subdued ripple, 
 as if they feared to displace a pebble ; and the great ash 
 trees which stood here and there, had lined each of their 
 leaves as carefully with silver and turned them as gracefully 
 to the wind, as if they were making their toilettes for the 
 gala-day of Nature. 
 
 That evening brought us into the dominions of Baden, 
 within five hours' walk of Heidelberg. At the humblest 
 inn in an humble village, we found a bed which we could 
 barely pay for, leaving a kreutzer or two for breakfast. 
 Soon after starting the next morning, the distant Kaiserstuhl 
 suddenly emerged from the mist, with the high tower on its 
 summit, where, nearly ten months before, we sat and looked 
 at the summits of the Vosges in France, with all the excite- 
 ment one feels on entering a foreign land. Now, the scenery 
 around that same Kaiserstuhl was nearly as familiar to us 
 as that of our own homes. Entering the hills again, we 
 knew by the blue mountains of the Odenwald, that we were 
 approaching the Neckar. At length we reached the last 
 height. The town of Neckargemiind lay before us on the 
 steep hillside, and the mountains on either side were scarred 
 with quarries of the rich red sandstone, so much used in 
 building. The blocks are hewn out, high up on the moun- 
 tain side, and then sent rolling and sliding down to the river, 
 where they are laden in boats and floated with the current 
 to the distant cities of the Rhine. 
 
 We were rejoiced, on turning around the corner of a 
 mountain, to see on the opposite side of the river, the road 
 winding up through the forests, where last September our 
 
RETURN TO HEIDELBERGo 293 
 
 Heidelberg friends accompanied us, as we set out to walk to 
 Frankfort, through the Odenwald. Many causes combined 
 to render it a glad scene to us. "We were going to meet 
 our friend again, after a separation of months ; we were 
 bringing an eventful journey to its close ; and finally, we 
 were weak and worn out from fasting and the labor of walk- 
 ing in the rain. A little further we saw Kloster Neuburg, 
 formerly an old convent, and remembered how we used to 
 look at it every day from the windows of our room on the 
 Neckar ; but we shouted aloud, when we saw at last the 
 well-known bridge spanning the river, and the glorious old 
 castle lifting its shattered towers from the side of the moun- 
 tain above us. I always felt a strong attachment to this 
 matchless ruin, and as I beheld it again, with the Avarm sun- 
 shine falling through each broken arch, the wild ivy draping 
 its desolate chambers, it seemed to smile on me like the face 
 of a friend, and I confessed I had seen many a grander 
 scene, but few that would cling to the memory so familiarly. 
 While we were in Heidelberg, a student was buried by 
 torchlight. His brethren assembled at dusk in the Univer- 
 sity Square, each with a blazing pine torch three feet long, 
 and formed into a double line. Between the files walked at 
 short distances an officer, who, with his sword, broad lace 
 collar, and the black and white plumes in his cap, looked 
 like a cavalier of the olden time. The thick smoke from 
 the torches filled the air, and a lurid, red light was cast over 
 the hushed crowds in the streets and streamed into the dark 
 alleys. The Hauptstrasse was filled with two lines of flame, 
 as the procession passed down it ; but when they reached 
 the extremity of the city, the hearse went on, attended with 
 
294 V.IEWS A-FOOi*. 
 
 torch-bearers, to tlie Cemetery, some distance furtlier, and 
 tlie students turned back, running and whirling tlieir torches 
 in mingled confusion. The music struck up a merry march, 
 and in the smoke and glare, they resembled a company of 
 mad demons. The presence of death awed them to silence 
 for awhile, but as soon as it had left them, they turned re- 
 lieved to revel again, and thought no more of the lesson. 
 They assembled again in the square, and tossing their torches 
 up into the air, cast them blazing into a pile ; while the 
 flame and black smoke rose in a column into the air, they 
 sang in solemn chorus, the song " Gaudeamus igitiir,'' with 
 which they close all public assemblies. 
 
 I shall neglect telling how we left Heidelberg, and 
 walked along the Bergstrasse again, for the sixth time ; how 
 we passed the old Melibochus and through the quiet city of 
 Darmstadt ; how we watched the blue summits of the Tau- 
 nus rising higher and higher over tlie plain, as a new land 
 rises from the sea; and finally, how we reached at last the 
 old watch-tower and looked down on the valley of the 
 Main, clothed in the bloom and verdure of summer, with 
 the houses and spires of Frankfort in the middle of the well 
 known panorama. We again took possest^ion of our old 
 rooms, and having to wait for a remittance from America, 
 we sat down to a month's rest and study. Towards the end 
 
 of July, Mr. Willis and the family of Herr S — returned 
 
 from the baths of Kreuznach, where they had been spending 
 the warm weather, and our happy family circle was re- 
 stored. I received another remittance of a hundred dollars, 
 which secured me Switzerland and Italy, and immediately 
 began to prepare for my departure. 
 
A FAREWELL AT MIDNIGHT. 295 
 
 Frankfort, July 29, 1845 
 It would be ingratitude towards the old city in which I 
 Lave passed so many pleasant and profitable hours, to leave 
 it, perhaps for ever, without a few words of farewell. How 
 often will the old bridge, with its view up the Main, over the 
 houses of Oberrad to the far mountains of the Odenwald, 
 rise freshly and distinctly in memory, when I shall have 
 been long absent from them ! Hew often will I hear in 
 fancy, as I now hear in reality, the heavy tread of pas- 
 sers-by on the rough pavement below, and the deep bell 
 of the Cathedral, chiming the swift hours, with a hollow 
 tone that seems to warn me, rightly to employ them ! 
 Even this old room, with its bare walls, little table and 
 chairs, in which I have thought and studied so long, that it 
 seems difficult to think and study anywhere else, will crowd 
 out of memory images of many a loftier scene. IMay I but 
 preserve for the future the hope and trust which have 
 cheered and sustained me here, through the sorrow of 
 absence and the anxiety of uncertain toil \ It is growing 
 towards midnight, and I think of many a night when I sat 
 here at this hour, thinking of the pleasant past, and the 
 doubtful future, and my beloved home across the sea. All 
 this has now an end. I must begin a new wandering, and 
 perhaps in ten days more I shall have a better place for 
 thought, among the valleys of the everlasting Alps. I look 
 forward to the journey with romantic, enthusiastic anticipa- 
 tion, for afar in the golden distance stand the Coliseum and 
 St. Peter's, Vesuvius and the lovely Naples. Farewell, 
 friends who have so long given me a home in a strange 
 land! 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 FREIBURG AND THE BLACK FOREST. 
 
 On the way to Italy— Meeting with a Neighbor— A Talk with the Farmers— Journey 
 to Freiburg— The Minster— Market Day— The New Eailroad- The Institute for 
 the Blind— The Grand Duchess Stephanie— The Kingdom of Heaven— The Valley 
 of Hell— Natives of jthe Black Forest— Climbing the Feldberg— Scenery of the Black 
 Forest— The Alps again— "We enter Switzerland— Schaffhausen— The Falls of the 
 Bhine. 
 
 Of our walk to Heidelberg over the oft-trodden Bergstrasse, 
 I shall say nothing, nor how we spent two last delightful 
 days with our friends, lingered about the Castle, climbed 
 the Kaiserstuhl again, and danced around on the top of the 
 tower for an hour, amid cloud and mist, while there was 
 sunshine below in the valley of the Neckar. I left Heidel- 
 berg on the 8th of August, in the atehwngen, for Carlsruhe. 
 The engine whistled, the train started, and although I kept 
 my eyes steadily fixed on the spire of the Hauptkirche, 
 three minutes hid it and all the rest of the city from sight. 
 Carlsruhe, the capital of Baden, which we reached in an 
 hour and a half, is unanimously pronounced by travellers to 
 be a most dull and tiresome city. Even its name, in Ger- 
 man, signifies a place of repose. 
 
A TALK WITH THE FARMERS. 297 
 
 I stopped at Kork, on the branch road leading to Stras- 
 bourg, to meet a German-American about to return to my 
 home in Pennsylvania, where he had lived for some time. I 
 inquired according to the direction he had sent me to Frank- 
 fort, but he was not there ; however, an old man, finding 
 who I was, said that Herr Otto had directed him to go with 
 me to Hesselhurst, a village four or five miles off, where ho 
 would meet me. So we set off immediately over the plain, 
 and reached the village at dusk. 
 
 Several of the farmers of the neighborhood were at the 
 little inn, and seemed to consider it as something extraordi- 
 nary to see a real, live, native-born American. They over- 
 whelmed me with questions about our country, and its 
 government. The hostess brought me a supper of fried eggs 
 and wurt, while they gathered around the table and began 
 a long category in the dialect of the country, which is diffi- 
 cult to understand. I gave them the best information I 
 could, about our mode of farming, the different kinds of 
 produce raised, and the prices paid to laborers ; and one 
 honest old man cried out, on my saying I had worked on a 
 farm, "Ah! little brother, give me your hand !" which he 
 shook most heartily. I told them also something about our 
 government, and the militia system, so different from the 
 conscription of Europe, when a farmer, becoming quite warm 
 in our favor, said to the others with an air of the greatest 
 decision : " One American is better than twenty Germans !" 
 What particularly amused me, was, that although I spoke 
 German with them, they seemed to think that I did not 
 understand what they said to one another, and therefore 
 commented very freely on my appearance. I suppose they 
 13* 
 
298 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 had the idea that we were a rude, savage race, for I over- 
 heard one say : " One sees, nevertheless, that he has been 
 educated!" Then- honest, unsophisticated character was 
 verj interesting to me, and we talked together until a late 
 hour. 
 
 My friend arrived at three o'clock the next morning, and 
 after two or three hours' talk about home, and the friends 
 whom he expected to see so much sooner than I, a young 
 farmer drove me in his wagon to Offenburg, a small city at 
 the foot of the Black Forest, where I took the cars for Frei- 
 burg. The scenery between the two places is grand. The 
 broad mountains of the Black Forest rear their fronts on the 
 east, and the blue lines of the French Vosges meet the 
 clouds on the west. The night before, in walking over the 
 plain, I saw distinctly the whole of the Strasburg Minster, 
 the spire of which is the highest in Europe, being four hun- 
 dred and ninety feet, or but twenty-five feet lower than the 
 Pyramid of Cheops. 
 
 The Minster of Freiburg is a grand, gloomy old pile, dat- 
 ing from the eleventh century — one of the few Gothic 
 churches in Germany that have ever been completed. The 
 tower of beautiful fretwork, rises to the height of three 
 hundred and ninety-five feet, and the body of the church, 
 including the choir, is of the same length. The interior is 
 solemn and majestic. The day after my arrival w^as the 
 great market-day, and the peasantry of the Black Forest 
 came down from the mountains to dispose of their produce. 
 The square around the Minster was filled with them, and 
 the singular costume of the women gave the scene quite a 
 picturesque appearance, Many of them wore bright red 
 
THE INSTITUTE FOR THE BLIND. 299 
 
 head-dresses and shawls, others had high-crowned hats of 
 yellow oil-cloth ; the young girls wore their hair in long 
 plaits, reaching nearly to their feet. 
 
 The railroad has only been open to Freiburg within a few 
 days, and is consequently an object of great curiosity to the 
 peasants, many of whom never saw the like before. They 
 throng around the station at the departure of the train, and 
 watch with great interest the operations of getting up the 
 steam and starting. One of the scenes that grated most 
 harshly on my feelings, was seeing one day a company of 
 women employed on the unfinished part of the road. They 
 were digging and shovelling away in the rain, nearly up to 
 their knees in mud and clay ! 
 
 I called at the Institute for the Blind, under the direction 
 of Mr. Miiller. He showed me some beautiful basket and 
 woven work by his pupils, made with astonishing accuracy 
 and skill. They read with great facility from the raised 
 type, and by means of frames are taught to write with ease 
 and distinctness. In music, that great solace of the blind, 
 they most excelled. I was indebted to ]\Ir. Miiller, to whom 
 I was introduced by an acquaintance with a friend of his in 
 America, for many kind attentions. He accompanied me to 
 the Jiigerhaus, on a mountain near, where we had a very fine 
 view of the city and its great black Minster, with the plain 
 of the Briesgau, broken only by the Kaiserstuhl, a long 
 mountain near the Ehine, whose goldca stream glittered in 
 the distance. On climbing the Schlossberg, an eminence 
 near the city, we met the Grand Duchess Stephanie, who is 
 now generally believed to be the mother of Caspar Hauser. 
 Through a work lately published, which has since been sup- 
 
SOO VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 press,ed, the wliole history has come to light. Caspar Hau- 
 ser was the lineal descendant of the house of Baden, and 
 heir to the throne. The guilt of his imprisonment and mur- 
 der rests, therefore, upon the present reigning family. 
 
 After two days delightfully spent, we shouldered our 
 knapsacks and left Freiburg. The beautiful valley, at the 
 mouth of which the city lies, runs like an avenue for seven 
 miles directly into the mountains, and presents in its loveli- 
 ness such a contrast to the horrid defile which follows, that 
 it almost deserves the name which has been given to a little 
 inn at its head — the " Kingdom of Heaven." The moun- 
 tains of the Black Forest inclose it on each side like walls, 
 covered to the summit with luxuriant woods, and in some 
 places with those forests of gloomy pine which give this re- 
 gion its name. After traversing its whole length, just before 
 plunging into the mountain-depths, the traveller rarely meets 
 with a finer picture than that which, on looking back, he 
 sees framed between the hills at the other end. Freiburg 
 looks around the foot of one of the heights, with the spire 
 of her cathedral peeping above the top, while the French 
 Vosges grow dim in the far perspective. 
 
 The road now enters a wild, narrow valley, which grows 
 smaller as we proceed. From Himmelreich, a large rude 
 inn by the side of the green meadows, we enter the Hollen- 
 thal — that is, from the " Kingdom of Heaven " to the " Val- 
 ley of Hell !" The latter place better deserves its appella- 
 tion than the former. The road winds between precipices 
 of black rock, above which the thick foliage shuts out the 
 brightness of day, and gives a sombre hue to the scene. A 
 torrent foams down the chasm, and in one place two mighty 
 
CLIMBING THE FELDBERG. 301 
 
 pillars interpose to prevent all passage. The stream, how- 
 ever, has worn its way through, and the road is hewn in the 
 rock by its side. This cleft is the only entrance to a valley 
 three or four miles long, which lies in the very heart of the 
 mountains. It is inhabited by a few woodmen and their 
 families, and but for the road which passes through, would 
 be as perfect a solitude as the Happy Valley of E-asselas. 
 At the farther end, a winding road called " The Ascent," 
 leads up the steep mountain to an elevated region of country, 
 thinly settled and covered with herds of cattle. The cher- 
 ries, which in the Rhine-plain below had long gone, were 
 just ripe here. The people spoke a most barbarous dialect, 
 but they were social and friendly, for everybody greeted us, 
 and sometimes, as we sat on a bank by the roadside, 
 those who passed would say " Rest thee !" or " Thrice 
 rest!" 
 
 Passing by the Titi Lake, a small body of water which 
 was spread out among the hills like a sheet of ink, so black 
 was its hue, we commenced ascending a mountain. The 
 highest peak of the Schwarzwald, the Feldberg, rose not 
 far off, and on arriving at the top of this mountain, we saw 
 that a half hour's walk would bring us to its summit. This 
 was too great a temptation for my love of climbing heights ; 
 so, with a look at the descending sun to calculate how much 
 time we could spare, we set out. There was no path, but 
 we pressed directly up the steep side, through bushes and 
 long grass, and in a short time reached the top, breathless 
 from such exertion in the thin atmosphere. The pine woods 
 shut out the view to the north and east, which is said to be 
 magnificent, as the mountain is about five thousand feet high. 
 
302 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 The wild, black peaks of the Black Forest were spread be- 
 low us, and the sun sank through golden mist towards the 
 Alsatian hills. Afar to the south, through cloud and storm, 
 we could just trace the white outline of the Swiss Alps. 
 The wind swept through the pines around, and bent the 
 long yellow grass among which we sat, with a strange, 
 ' mournful sound, well suiting the gloomy and mysterious 
 region. It soon grew cold, the golden clouds settled down 
 towards us, and we made haste to descend to the village of 
 Lenzkirch before dark. 
 
 Next morning we set out early, without waiting to see 
 the trial of archery which was to take place among the 
 mountain youths. Their booths and targets, gay with ban- 
 ners, stood on a green meadow beside the town. We walked 
 through the Black Forest the whole forenoon. It might be 
 owing to the many wild stories the scenes whereof are laid 
 among these hills, but to me there was a peculiar feeling of 
 solemnity pervading the whole region. The great pine 
 woods are of the very darkest hue of green, and down 
 their hoary, moss-floored aisles, daylight seems never to 
 have shone. The air was pure and clear, and the sunshine 
 bright, but it imparted no gaiety to the scenery : except the 
 little meadows of living emerald which lay occasionally in 
 the lap of a dell, the landscape wore a solemn and serious 
 air. In a storm, it must be sublime. 
 
 About noon, from the top of the last ran^e of hills, we 
 had a glorious view. The line of the distant Alps could be 
 faintly traced high in the clouds, and all the heights between 
 were plainly visible, from the Lake of Constance to the 
 misty Jura, which flanked the Vosges on the west. From 
 
ENTERING- SWITZERLAND. 303 
 
 our lofty station we overlooked half Switzerland, and had 
 the air been a little clearer, we could have seen Mont Blanc 
 and the mountains of Savoy. I could not help envying 
 the feelings of the Swiss, who, after long absence from their 
 native land, first see the Alps from this road. If to the 
 emotions with which I then looked on them were added the 
 passionate love of home and country which a long absence 
 creates, such excess of rapture would be almost too great to 
 be borne. 
 
 In the afternoon we crossed the border, and took leave of 
 Germany with regret, after near a year's residence wdtliin 
 its borders. Still it was pleasant to know that we were in 
 a republic once more, and the first step we took made us 
 aware of the change. There was no policeman to call for our 
 passports or search our baggage. It was just dark when 
 we reached the hill overlooking the Rhine, on whose 
 steep banks is perched the antique town of Schaffhausen. 
 It is still walled in, with towers at regular intervals ; the 
 streets are wide and spacious, and the houses rendered ex- 
 tremely picturesque by the quaint projecting windows. The 
 buildings are nearly all old, as we learned by the dates 
 above the doors. At the inn, I met with one of the free 
 troopers who marched against Luzerne. He was full of 
 spirit, and ready to undertake another such journey. Indeed 
 it is the universal opinion that the present condition of things 
 cannot last much longer. 
 
 We took a walk before breakfast to the falls of the Hhine, 
 about a mile and a half from Schaffhausen. I confess I was 
 somewhat disappointed in them, after the glowing descrip- 
 tions of travellers. The river at this place is little more 
 
304 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 fhan thirty yards wide, and the body of water, although 
 issuing from the Lake of Constance, is not remarkably strong. 
 For some distance above, the fall of the water is very rapid, 
 and as it finally reaches the spot where, narrowed between 
 rocks, it makes the grand plunge, it has acquired a great 
 velocity. Three rocks stand in the middle of the current, 
 which thunders against and around their bases, but cannot 
 shake them down. These and the rocks in the bed of the 
 stream, break the force of the fall, so that it descends to the 
 bottom, about fifty feet below, not in one sheet, but shivered 
 into a hundred leaps of snowy foam. The precipitous 
 shores, and the tasteful little castle which is perched upon 
 the steep just over the boiling spray, add much to its beauty, 
 taken as a picture. As a specimen of the picturesque, the 
 whole scene is perfect. I should think Trenton Falls, in 
 New York, must excel these in wild, startling effect ; but 
 there is such a scarcity of waterfalls in this land, that the 
 Germans go into raptures about them, and will hardly be- 
 lieve that Niagara itself possesses more sublimity. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 A WALK THROUGH EASTERN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 Canton Zurich — ^The Country and People — The City of Zurich — Its Promenades — 
 Friendly Greetings — Walk along the Lake Shore — ^The Alp-Glow — The Grave of 
 Ulrich von Hutten — Freiligrath, the Banished Poet — The Alps in the Eain — Ein- 
 siedeln — The Cathedral and Pilgrims — Music — Alpine Scenery — ^The Slide of the 
 Eossberg— Schwytz— The Lake of the Pour Cantons— The Meadow of Grutli— Tell's 
 Chapel— Altorf— Night in the Valley of the Eeuss. 
 
 We left Schaffhausen for Zurich, in mist and rain, and 
 walked for some time along the northern bank of the Rhine. 
 We could have enjoyed the scenery much better, had it not 
 been for the rain, which not only hid the mountains from 
 sight, but kept us constantly half soaked. We crossed 
 the rapid Rhine at Eglisau, a curious antique village, and 
 then continued our way through the forests of Canton Zu- 
 rich, to Biilach, with its groves of lindens — " those tall and 
 stately trees, with velvet down upon their shining leaves, 
 and rustic benches placed beneath their overhanging eaves." 
 When we left the little village where the rain obliged us to 
 stop for the night, it was clear and delightful. The far- 
 mers were out, busy at work, their long, straight scythes 
 
306 VIEWS A-Foor. 
 
 glancing through the wet grass, while the thick pines 
 sparkled with thousands of dewy diamonds. The farm- 
 houses were scattered over the country in real American 
 style, and the glorious valley of the Limmat, bordered on 
 the west by a range of woody hills, reminded me of some 
 scenes in my native Pennsylvania. The houses were neat- 
 ly and tastefully built, with little gardens around them, and 
 the countenances of the people spoke of intelligence and 
 independence. I fancied I could read on the brows of the 
 Swiss a lofty self-respect, a consciousness of the liberties 
 they enjoy, which the Germans of the laboring class neve^ 
 show. 
 
 As we approached Zurich, the noise of employment from 
 mills, furnaces and factories, came to us like familiar sounds, 
 reminding us of the bustle of our home towns. The situa- 
 tion of the city is lovely. It lies at the head of the lake, 
 and on both sides of the little river Limmat, whose clear 
 green waters carry the collected meltings of the Alps to the 
 Rhine. Around the lake rise lofty green hills, which, slop- 
 ing gently back, bear on their sides hundreds of pleasant 
 country-houses and farms, and the snowy Alpine range ex- 
 tends along the southern sky. The Limmat is spanned by 
 a number of bridges, and its swift waters turn many mills 
 which are built above them. From these bridges one can 
 look out over the blue lake and down the thronged streets 
 of the city on each side, whose bright, cheerful houses are 
 prophetic of Italy. 
 
 Zurich can boast of finer promenades than any other city 
 in Switzerland. The old battlements are planted with trees 
 and transformed into pleasant walks, which being elevated 
 
FRIENDLY GREE'IINGS. 307 
 
 above the city, command views of its beautiful environs. A 
 favorite place of resort is the Lindenliof, an elevated court- 
 yard, shaded by immense trees. The fountains of water 
 under them are always surrounded by washerwomen, and in 
 the morning groups of merry school children may be seen 
 tumbling over the grass. The teachers take them there in 
 a body for exercise and recreation. The Swiss children are 
 beautiful, bright-eyed creatures ; there is scarcely one who 
 does not exhibit the dawning of an active, energetic spirit. 
 It may be partly attributed to the fresh, healthy climate of 
 Switzerland, but I am republican enough to believe that the 
 influence of the Government under which they live, has also 
 its share in producing the effect. 
 
 While enjoying the cool morning breeze on the bastion, 
 and listening to the stir of the streets below us, we were 
 also made aware of the social and friendly politeness of the 
 people. Those who passed us, on their walk around the 
 ramparts, greeted us almost with the familiarity of acquaint- 
 ances. Simple as was the act, we felt grateful, for it had at 
 least the seeming of a friendly interest and a sympathy with 
 the loneliness which the stranger sometimes feels. A school 
 teacher leading her troop of merry children on their morn- 
 ing walk around the bastion, nodded to us pleasantly, and 
 forthwith the whole company of chubby-cheeked rogues, 
 looking up at us with a pleasant archness, lisped a " guten 
 morgen " that made the hearts glad within us. I know of 
 nothing that has given me a more sweet and teiKler delight 
 than the greeting of a little child, who, leaving his noisy 
 playmates, ran across the street to me, and taking my hand 
 which he could barely clasp in both his own soft little ones, 
 
308 VIEWS A- FOOT. 
 
 looked up in my face with an expression so winning and 
 affectionate, that I loved him at once. The happy, honest 
 farmers, too, spoke to us cheerfully everywhere. We learned 
 a lesson from all this — we felt that not a word of kindness 
 is ever wasted, that a simple friendly glance may cheer the 
 spirit and warm the lonely heart, and that the slightest 
 deed, prompted by generous sympathy, becomes a living 
 joy in the memory of the receiver, which blesses unceasingly 
 him who bestowed it. 
 
 "We left Zurich the same afternoon, for Stafa, where we 
 were told the poet Freiligrath resided. The road led along 
 the bank of the lake, whose shores sloped gently up from the 
 water, covered with gardens and farm-houses, which, with 
 the bolder mountains that rose behind them, made a com- 
 bination of the lovely and grand, on which the eye rested 
 with rapture. The sweetest cottages were embowered among 
 the orchards, and the whole country bloomed like a garden. 
 The waters of the lake are of a pale, transparent green, and 
 so clear that we could see its bottom of white pebbles, for 
 som^e distance. Here and there a quiet boat floated on its 
 surface. The opposite hills were covered with a soft blue 
 haze, and white villages sat along the shore, " like swans 
 among the reeds." Behind, we saw the woody range of the 
 Brunig Alp. The people bade us a pleasant good evening ; 
 there was a universal air of cheerfulness and content on 
 their countenances. 
 
 Towards evening, the clouds, which had hung in the south 
 all day, dispersed a little, and we could see the Dodiberg and 
 the Alps of Glarus. As sunset drew on, the broad summits 
 of snow and the clouds which were rolled around them, as- 
 
THE ALP-GLOW. 309 
 
 sumed a soft rosy nue, which increased in brilliancy as the 
 light of day faded. The rough, icy crags and snowy steeps 
 were fused in the warm light and half blended Avitli the 
 bright clouds. This blaze of the mountains at sunset is called 
 the Alp-glow, and exceeds all one's highest conceptions of 
 Alpine grandeur. We watched the fading glory until it quite 
 died away, and the summits wore a livid, ashy hue, like the 
 mountains of a world wherein there was no life. In a few 
 minutes more the dusk of twilight spread over the scene, the 
 boatmen glided home over the still lake, and the herdsmen 
 drove their cattle back from pasture on the slopes and 
 meadows. 
 
 On inquiring for Freiligrath ai Stafa, we found he had 
 removed to Rapperschwyl, some distance further. As it was 
 already late, we waited for the steamboat which leaves 
 Zurich every evening. It came along about eight o'clock, 
 a little boat carried us out through rain and darkness to 
 meet it, and in half an hour we landed on the wharf at Rap- 
 perschwyl. 
 
 There are two small islands in the lake, one of which, 
 with a little chapel rising from among its green trees, is 
 Ufnau, the grave of Ulrich von Hutten, one of the fathers of 
 the German Reformation. His fiery poems have been the 
 source from which many a German bard has derived his in- 
 spiration ; and Freiligrath, who now lives in sight of his tomb, 
 has published an indignant poem, because an inn with gam* 
 ing tables has been estabUshed in the ruins of the castle near 
 Creuznach, where Hutten found refuge from his enemies with 
 Franz von Sickingen, brother-in-law of "Goetz with the Iron 
 Hand." The monks of Einsiedeln, to whom Ufnau belongs, 
 
310 VIEWS A-rooT. 
 
 have carefully obliterated all traces of his grave, so that the 
 exact spot is not known, in order that even a tombstone 
 might be denied him who once strove to overturn their 
 order. It matters little to that bold spirit whose motto Avas — 
 ''^ The die is cast — / have dared it T' — the whole island is 
 his monument, if he need one 
 
 I spent the whole of the next morning with Freiligrath, 
 the poet, who was lately banished from Germany on account 
 of the liberal principles his last volume contains. He lives 
 in a pleasant country-house on i;he Meyerberg, an eminence 
 near Rapperschwyl, overlooking a glorious prospect. He 
 received me kindly and conversed much upon American lite- 
 rature. He is a warm admirer of Bryant and Longfellow, 
 and has translated many of their poems into German. He 
 said he had received a warm invitation from a colony of 
 Germans in "Wisconsin, to join them and enjoy that freedom 
 which his native land denies, but that his circumstances 
 would not allow it at present. He is perhaps thirty -five 
 years of age. His brow is high and noble, and his eyes, 
 which are large and of a clear gray, beam with serious, sad- 
 dened thought. His long chestnut hair, uniting with a hand- 
 some beard and moustache, gives a lion-like dignity to his 
 energetic countenance. His talented wife, Ida Freiligrath, 
 who shares his literary labors, and an amiable sister, are with 
 him in exile, and he is happier in their faithfulness than when 
 he enjoyed the favors of a corrupt king. 
 
 We crossed the long bridge from E-apperschwyl, and took 
 the road over the mountain opposite, ascending for nearly 
 two hours along the side, with glorious views of the Lake of 
 Zurich and the mountains which inclose it. The upper and 
 
EINSIEDELN. 311 
 
 lower ends of the lake were completely hidden by the storms, 
 Avhich, to our regret, veiled the Alps, but that portion below 
 us lay spread out dim and grand, like a vast picture. It rained 
 almost constantly, and we were obliged occasionally to take 
 shelter in the pine forests, whenever a heavier cloud passed 
 over. The road was lined with beggars, who dropped on 
 their knees in the rain before us, or placed bars across the 
 way, and then took them down again, for which they de- 
 manded money. 
 
 At length we reached the top of the pass, where many pil- 
 grims to Einsiedeln had stopped at a little inn. Some of them 
 had come a long distance to pay their vows, especially as 
 the next day was the Ascension day of the Virgin, whose 
 image at Einsiedeln is noted for performing many miracles. 
 Passing on, we crossed a wild torrent by an arch called the 
 " Devil's Bridge." The lofty, elevated plains were covered 
 with scanty patches of grain and potatoes, and the boys 
 tended their goats on the grassy slopes, sometimes trilling or 
 yodling an Alpine melody. An hour's walk brought us to 
 Einsiedeln, a small town, whose only attraction is the Abbey 
 — after Loretto, in Italy, the most celebrated resort for pil- 
 grims in Europe. 
 
 We immediately en.tered the great church. The gorgeous 
 vaulted roof and long aisles were dim with the early evening ; 
 hundreds of worshippers sat around the sides, or knelt in 
 groups on the broad stone pavements, repeating their Pater- 
 nosters and Ave Marias in a shrill, monotonous tone, while 
 the holy image near the entrance was surrounded by persons, 
 many of whom came in the hope of being healed of some dis- 
 order under which they suffered. I could not distinctly 
 
312 VIEWS A-FOOT 
 
 make out tlie image, for it was placed back within tke 
 grating, and a crimson lamp behind it threw a strong lustre 
 on all sides, in the form of a glory. Many of the pilgrims 
 came a long distance. I saw some in the costume of the 
 Black Forest, others who appeared to be natives of the 
 Italian Cantons, and a group of young women wearing conical 
 fur caps, from the forests of Bregenz, on the Lake of Constance. 
 
 I was astonished at the splendor of this church, situated 
 in a lonely and unproductive Alpine valley. The lofty 
 arches of the ceiling, which are covered with fresco paint- 
 ings, rest jon enormous pillars of granite, and every image 
 and shrine is richly ornamented with gold. Some of the 
 chapels were filled with the remains of martyrs, and these 
 were always surrounded with throngs of believers. The 
 choir was closed by a tall iron grating ; but a single lamp, 
 which swung from the roof enabled me to see through the 
 darkness, that though much richer in ornaments than the 
 body of the church, it was less grand and impressive. The 
 frescoes which cover the ceiling are said to be the finest 
 paintings of the kind in Switzerland. 
 
 In the morning our departure was delayed by the rain, 
 and we took advantage of it to hear mass in the Abbey and 
 enjoy the heavenly music. The latter was of the loftiest 
 kind ; there was one voice among the singers I shall not 
 soon forget. It was like the warble of a bird which sings 
 out of very wantonness. On and on it sounded, making its 
 clear, radiant sweetness heard above the chant of the choir 
 and the thunder of the orchestra. Such a rich, varied, and 
 untiring strain of melody I have rarely listened to. 
 
 "When the service ceased, we took a small road leading to 
 
THE SLIDE OF THE KOSSBERG, 313 
 
 Scliwytz. We liad now fairly entered tlie Alpine region, 
 and our first task was to cross a mountain. This having 
 been done, we kept along the back of the ridge which 
 bounds the lake of Zug on the south, termiuatiiig in the well 
 known Hossberg. The scenery became wilder with every 
 step. The luxuriant fields of herbage on the mountains 
 were spotted with the picturesque chalets of the hunters and 
 Alp-herds ; cattle and goats were browsing along the de- 
 clivities, their bells tinkling most musically, and the little 
 streams fell in foam down the steeps. I here began to 
 realize my anticipations of Swiss scenery. Just on the 
 other side of the range, along which we travelled, lay the 
 little lake of Egeri and the valley of Morganten, where Tell 
 and his followers overcame the army of the German Em- 
 peror. As we wound around the lake of Lowertz, we saw 
 the valley lying between the Eossberg and the Highi, which 
 latter mountain stood full in view. To our regret, and that 
 of all other travellers, the clouds hung low upon it, as they 
 had done for a week at least, and there was no prospect of 
 a change. The Rossberg, from which we descended, is 
 about four thousand feet in height ; a dark brown stripe 
 from its very summit to the valley below, shows the track 
 of the avalanche which, in 1806, overwhelmed Goldau, and 
 laid waste the beautiful vale of Lowertz. Four hundred 
 and fifty persons perished by this catastrophe, which was so 
 sudden that in five minutes the whole lovely valley was 
 transformed into a desolate wilderness. 
 
 An hour's walk through a blooming Alpine vale brought 
 us to the little town of Schwytz, the capital of the Canton, 
 whicli stands at the foot of a tremendous rock-mountaiu. 
 14 
 
314 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 The bare and rugged STimmits hang directly over the town, 
 but the people dwell below without fear, although the 
 warning ruins of Goldau are full in sight. A narrow blue 
 line at the end of the valley which stretches westward, 
 marks the lake of the Four Cantons. Down this valley we 
 hurried, that we might not miss the boat which plies daily 
 from Luzerne to Fluelen. I regretted not being able to visit 
 Luzerne, as I had a letter to the distinguished Swiss com- 
 poser, Schnyder van Wartensee, who resides there at present. 
 
 The scenery of the lake is exceedingly grand. Looking 
 towards Luzerne, we could see the dark mass of Mount 
 Pilatus on one side, and on the other the graceful outline of 
 the Righi, still wearing his hood of clouds. We put off in 
 a skiff to meet the boat, with two Capuchin friars in long 
 brown mantles and cowls, carrying rosaries at their girdles. 
 
 Nearly opposite Schwytz is the meadow of G-rutli, where 
 the union of the Swiss patriots took place, and the bond was 
 sealed that enabled them to cast off their chains. It is a 
 little green slope on the side of the mountain, between the 
 two Cantons of Uri and Unterwalden, surrounded on all 
 sides by precipices. A crystal spring in the centre is 
 believed by the common people to have gushed up on the 
 spot where the three " men of G-riitli " joined their hands in 
 the cause of Swiss liberty. It is also a popular belief that 
 they slumber in a rocky cavern near the spot, and that they 
 will arise and come forth when the nation is in danger. 
 Switzerland at present stands greatly in need of a new triad 
 to restore the ancient harmony. 
 
 We passed this glorious scene, almost the only green spot 
 on the bleak mountain- side, and swept around the base of 
 
tell's chapel. 315 
 
 tlie Axenberg, at tlie foot of whicli, in a rocky cave, stands 
 the chapel of William Tell, built on the spot where he leaped 
 from Gessler's boat during the storm. It sits at the base of 
 the rock, on the water's edge, and can be seen far over the 
 waves. The Alps, whose eternal snows are lifted dazzling 
 to the sky, complete the grandeur of a scene so hallowed by 
 the footsteps of Freedom, The grand and lonely solemnity 
 of the landscape impressed me Avith an awe, like that one 
 feels when standing in a mighty cathedral, when the aisles 
 are dim with twilight. And how full of interest to a citizen 
 of young and free America is a shrine Avhere the votaries of 
 Liberty have turned to gather strength and courage, through 
 the storms and convulsions of five hundred years ! 
 
 "We stopped at the village of Fluelen, at the head of the 
 lake, and walked on to Altorf, a distance of half a league. 
 Here, in the market-place, is a tower, said to be built on the 
 spot where the linden tree stood, under which the child of 
 Tell was placed, while, about a hundred yards distant, is a 
 fountain with Tell's statue, on the spot from whence he shot 
 the apple. If these localities are correct, he must indeed 
 have been master of the cross-bow. The tower is covered 
 with rude paintings of the principal events in the history of 
 Swiss liberty. I viewed these scenes with double interest 
 from having read Schiller's " Wilhelm Tell," just before 
 leaving Germany. The beautiful reply of his boy, when he 
 described to him the condition of the "land where there are 
 no mountains," was sounding in my ears during the whole 
 day's journey ; 
 
 " Father, I'd feel oppressed in that broad land, 
 rd rather dwell beneath the avalanche I " 
 
316 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 The little village of Burglen, whose spire we saw above 
 the forest, in a glen near hy, was the birth-place of Tell, 
 and the place where his dwelling stood, is now marked by a 
 small chapel. In the Schachen, a noisy mountain stream 
 that comes down to join the Reuss, he was drowned, when 
 an old man, in attempting to rescue a child who had fallen 
 in — a death worthy of the hero ! We bestowed a blessing 
 on his memory in passing, and then followed the banks of 
 the rapid Reuss, Twilight was gathermg in the deep 
 Alpine glen, and the mountains on each side, half-seen 
 thrqugh the mist, looked like vast, awful phantoms. Soon 
 they darkened to black, indistinct masses ; all was silent 
 except the deepened roar of the falling floods ; dark clouds 
 brooded above us like the outspread wings of night, and we 
 were glad when the little village of Amstegg was reached, 
 and the parlor of the inn opened to us a more cheerful, if 
 less romantic scene. 
 
CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 PAiSSAGE OF THE ST. GOTHARD. 
 
 An Ajptne Day— Chasm of the Eeuss— The Devil's Bridge— Andermatt— Climbing 
 the St. Gothard — Summit of the Pass — A Eapid Descent into Italy — Valley of the 
 Ticino — Eugged Scenery — Southern Vegetation — Vineyards — Italian Experiences — 
 Junction with the Spliigen Eoad — Bacchus — On Lago Maggiore — The Borromean 
 Isles — Landing in Lombardy — An Italian Landlord — Arrival at Milan. 
 
 Leavl\g Amstegg, I passed the whole day among snowy, 
 sky-piercing Alps, torrents, chasms and clouds ! The clouds 
 appeared to be breaking up as we set out, and the white 
 top of the E-eussbQrg was now and then visible in the sky. 
 Just above the village are the remains of Zwing Uri, the 
 castle begun by the tyrant Gessler, for the complete subju^ 
 gation of the canton. Following the Reuss up through a 
 narrow valley, we passed the Bristenstock, which lifts its 
 jagged crags nine thousand feet in the air, while on the 
 other side stand the snowy summits which lean towards the 
 Rhone Glacier and St. Gothard. From the deep glen 
 where the Reuss foamed down towards the Lake t)f the 
 Forest Cantons, the mountains rose with a majestic sweep 
 so far into the sky that the brain grew dizzy in following 
 
318 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 their outlines. Woods, chalets, and slopes of herhage 
 covered their bases, where the mountain cattle and goats 
 were browsing, while the herd-boys sang their native melo- 
 dies or woke the ringing echoes with the loud, sweet sounds 
 of their wooden horns ; higher up, the sides were broken 
 into crags and covered with stunted pines ; then succeeded 
 a belt of bare rock with a little snow lying in the crevices, 
 and the summits of dazzling white looked out from the 
 clouds half-way to the zenith. Sometimes when the vale 
 was filled with clouds, it was startling to see them parting 
 around a solitary summit, apparently isolated in the air at 
 an immense height, for the mountain to which it belonged 
 was hidden to the very base ! 
 
 The road passed from one side of the valley to the other, 
 crossing the E-euss on bridges sometimes ninety feet high. 
 After three or four hours' walking, we reached a frightful 
 pass called the Schcjllenen, So narrow is the defile that*, be- 
 fore reaching it, the road seemed to enter directly into the 
 mountain. Precipices a thousand feet high tower above, and 
 the stream roars and boils in the black depth below. The 
 road is a wonder of art ; it winds around the edge of horri- 
 ble chasms or is carried on lofty arches across, with some- 
 times a hold apparently so frail that one involuntarily shud- 
 ders. At a place called the Devil's Bridge, the Eeuss leaps 
 about seventy feet in three or four cascades, sending up a 
 continual cloud of spray, while a wind created by the fall, 
 blows and whirls around, with a force that nearly lifts one 
 from his feet. 
 
 Beyond the Devil's Bridge, the mountains which nearly 
 touched before, interlock into each other, and a tunnel three 
 
CLIMBING THE ST. GOTHARD. 319 
 
 hundred and seventy-five feet long leads througli the rock 
 into the vale of Urseren, surrounded by the Upper Alps. 
 The little town of Andermatt lies in the middle of this val- 
 ley, which, with the peaks around, is covered with short yel- 
 lowish-brown grass. We met near Amstegg a little Italian 
 boy walking home from Germany, quite alone and without 
 money, for we saw him give his last kreutzer to a blind beg- 
 gar along the road. We therefore took him with us, as he 
 was afraid to cross the St. Gothard alone. 
 
 After refreshing ourselves at Andermatt, we started, five 
 in number, including a German student, for the St. Gothard. 
 Behind the village of Hospiz, which stands at the bottom of 
 the valley leading to Eealp and the Furca pass, the way 
 commences winding backwards and forwards, higher and 
 higher, through a valley covered with rocks, with the mighty 
 summits of the Alps around, untenanted save by the chamois 
 and mountain eagle. Not a tree was to be seen. The sides 
 of the mountains were covered with loose rocks waiting for 
 the next rain to wash them down, and the tops were robed 
 in eternal snow. A thick cloud rolled over us as we went 
 on, following the diminishing brooks to their snowy source 
 in the peak of St. Gothard. We cut off the bends of the 
 road by footpaths up the rocks, Avhicli we ascended 
 in single file, little Pietro with his staff and bundle 
 bringing up the rear. The rarefied air we breathed, seven 
 thousand feet above the sea, was like exhilarating gas. We 
 felt no fatigue, but ran and shouted and threw snow-balls in 
 the middle of August ! 
 
 After three hours' walk we reached the two clear and 
 silent lakes which send their waters to the Adriatic and the 
 
3-0 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 Kortli Sea. Here, as we looked down on tlie Italian side, the 
 sky became clear ; we saw 'the top of St. Gothard many 
 thousand feet above, and stretchmg to the south, the sum- 
 mits of the mountains which guard the vales of the Ticino 
 and the Adda. The former monastery has been turned 
 into an inn ; there is, however, a kind of church attached, 
 attended by a single monk. It was so cold that, although 
 late, we determined to descend to the first village. The 
 Italian side is very steep, and the road, called the Via 
 Trimola, is like a thread dropped down and constantly 
 doubling back upon itself. The deep chasms were filled with 
 snow, although exposed to the full force of the sun, and for 
 a long distance there was scarcely a sign of vegetation. 
 
 I thought, as we went down, that every step was bringing 
 me r.earer to a sunnier land — that the glories of Italy, 
 which had so long lain in the airy background of the future, 
 would soon spread themselves before me in their real or 
 imagined beauty. Eeaching at dusk the last height above 
 the vale of the Ticino, we saw the little village of Airolo, 
 with its musical name, lying in a hollow of the mountains. A 
 few minutes of leaping, sliding, and rolling, took us down 
 the grassy declivity, and we found we had descended from 
 the top in an hour and a half, although the distance by 
 the road is nine miles ! I need not say how glad we were 
 to relieve our trembling knees and exhausted limbs. When 
 at night, I looked out of my chamber-window, the silver 
 moon of Italy (for we fancied that her light was softer and 
 that the skies were already bluer) hung trembling above the 
 fields of snow that stretched in their wintry brilliance along 
 the mountains around. I heard the roar of the Ticino and 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE TICINO. 321 
 
 tlie deepened sound of falling cascades, and tliouglit, if I 
 were to take those waters for my guide, to what glorious 
 places they would lead me ! 
 
 We left Airolo early the next morning, to continue our 
 journey down the valley of the Ticino. The mists and 
 clouds of Switzerland were exchanged for a sky of the 
 purest blue, and we felt, for the first time in ten days, 
 uncomfortably warm. The mountains which flank the Alps 
 on this side, are still giants — lofty and bare, and covered 
 with snow in many places. The limit of the German 
 dialect is on the summit of St. Grothard, and the peasants 
 saluted us with a " huon giorno,^^ as they passed. This, 
 v,dtli the clearness of the skies and the warmth of the' air, 
 made us feel that Italy was growing nearer. 
 
 On our first day's journey we passed through two terrific 
 mountain gorges, almost equalling in grandeur the defile of 
 the " Devil's Bridge." The Ticino, in its course to Lago 
 Maggiore, has to make a descent of nearly three thousand 
 feet, passing through three valleys, which lie like terraces, 
 one below the other. In passing fi-om one to the other, it 
 forces its way in twenty cataracts through a cleft in the 
 mountains. The road, constructed with the utmost labor, 
 threads these dark chasms, sometimes carried in a tunnel 
 through the rock, sometimes passing on arches above the 
 boiling flood. I here noticed a very beautiful eff'ect of the 
 water, perhaps attributable to some mineral substance it 
 contained. The spray and foam thrown up in the dashing 
 of the vexed current, was of a light, delicate pink, although 
 the stream itself was a soft blue ; and the contrast of these 
 two colors was very remarkable. 
 14* 
 
322 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 As we kept on, liowever, there was a very perceptible 
 change in the scenery. The gloomy pines disappeared, and 
 the mountains were covered, in their stead, Avith picturesque 
 chestnut trees, with leaves of a shining green. The grass 
 and vegetation were much more luxuriant than on the other 
 side of the Alps, and fields of maize and mulberry orchards 
 covered the valley. We saw the people busy at work reel- 
 ing silk in the villages. Every mile we advanced made a 
 sensible change in the vegetation. The chestnuts were larg- 
 er, the maize higher, the few straggling grape-vines increased 
 into bowers and vineyards, while the gardens were filled 
 with plum, pear and fig-trees, and the display of delicious 
 fruit which we saw in the villages, gave us promise of the 
 luxuriance that was to come. 
 
 The vineyards are much more beautiful than the German 
 fields of stakes. The vines are not trimmed, but grow from 
 year to year over a frame higher than the head, supported 
 through the whole field on stone pillars. They interlace 
 and form a complete leafy screen, while the clusters hang 
 below. The light came dimly through the green, transpa- 
 rent leaves, and nothing was wanting to make them real 
 bowers of Arcadia. Although we were still in Switzerland, 
 the people began to have that lazy, indolent look which 
 characterizes the Italians ; most of the occupations were 
 carried on in the open air, and brown-robed, sandalled friars 
 were going about from house to house, collecting money and 
 provisions for their support. 
 
 We passed Faido and Giornico, near which last village 
 are the remains of an old castle, supposed to have been 
 built by the ancient Gauls, and stopped for the night at 
 
ALPINE VALLEYS. 323 
 
 Cresciano, whicli being entirely Italian, we had an opportu- 
 nity to put in practice the few words we had picked up from 
 Pietro. The little fellow had parted from us with regret a 
 few hours before, at Biasco, where he had relations. The 
 rustic landlord at Cresciano was an honest young fellow, 
 who tried to serve us as well as he could, but we made some 
 ludicrous mistakes through our ignorance of the language. 
 
 Three hours' walk brought us to Bellinzona, the capital 
 of the canton. Before reaching it, our road joined that of 
 the Spliigen which comes down through the valley of 
 Bernardino. From the bridge where the junction takes 
 place we had a triple view, the grandeur of which took me 
 by surprise, even after coming from Switzerland. We stood 
 at the union of, three valleys — that leading to St. Gothard, 
 terminated by the glaciers of the Bernese Oberland, that 
 running off obliquely to the Spliigen, and finally the broad 
 v^ale of the Ticino, extending to Lago Maggiore, whose pur- 
 ple mountains closed the vista. Each valley was perhaps 
 two miles broad and from twenty to thirty long, and the 
 mountains that inclosed them from five to seven thousand 
 feet in height, so you may perhaps form some idea what a 
 view down three such avenues in this Alpine temple 
 would be. 
 
 We left Bellinzona at noon, and saw, soon after, from an 
 eminence, the blue line of Lago Maggiore stretched across 
 the bottom of the valley. We saw sunset fade away over 
 the lake, but it was clouded, and did not realize my ideal of 
 such a scene in Italy. A band of wild Italians paraded up 
 and down the village, drawing one of their number in a hand- 
 cart. They made a great noise with a drum and trumpet, 
 
324 • VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 and were received everywhere with shouts of laughter. A 
 great jug of wine was not wanting, and the whole seemed 
 to me a very characteristic scene 
 
 We were early awakened at Magadino, at the head of 
 Lago Maggiore, and after swallowing a hasty breakfast, went 
 on board the steamboat " San Carlo," for Sesto Calende. We 
 got under way at six o'clock, and were soon in motion over 
 the crystal mirror. The water is of the loveliest green hue, 
 and so transparent that we seemed to be floating in mid-air. 
 Another heaven arched far below us ; other chains of moun- 
 tains joined their bases to those which surrounded the lake, 
 and the mirrored cascades leaped upward to meet their ori- 
 ginals at the surface. It may be because I have seen it more 
 recently, that the water of Lago Maggiore appears to me the 
 most beautiful in the world. I was delighted with the 
 Scotch lakes, and enraptured with the Traunsee and " Zurich's 
 waters," but this last exceeds them both. I am now incapa- 
 ble of any stronger feeling, until I see the Egean from the 
 Grecian Isles. 
 
 The morning was cloudy, and the white wreaths hung low 
 on the mountains, whose rocky sides were covered every 
 where with the rank and luxuriant growth of this climate. 
 As we advanced further over this glorious mirror, the houses 
 became more Italian-like ; the lower stories rested on arched 
 passages, and the windows were open, without glass, while 
 in the gardens stood the solemn, graceful cypress, and vines, 
 heavy with ripening grapes, hung from bough to bough 
 through the mulberry orchards. Half-way down, in a broad 
 bay, which receives the waters of a stream that descends 
 with the Simplon, are the celebrated Borromean Islands. 
 
ON LAGO MAGGIORE. 325 
 
 The J are four in number, and seem to float like fairy crea- 
 tions on tlie water, while the lofty hills form a background 
 whose grandeur enhances by contrast their exquisite beauty. 
 
 On passing by Isola Madre, we could see the roses in its 
 terraced gardens and the broad-leaved aloes clinging to the 
 rocks. Isola Bella, the loveliest of them all, as its name 
 denotes, was farther off; it rose like a pyramid from the 
 water, terrace above terrace to the summit, and its gardens 
 of never fading foliage, with the glorious panorama around, 
 might make it a paradise, if life were to be dreamed away. 
 On the northern side of the bay lies a ,large town with a lofty 
 Romanesque tower, and noble mountains sweep around as 
 if to shut out the world from such a scene. The lake was 
 perfectly calm, and groves and gardens slept mirrored in the 
 dark green wave, while the Alps rose afar through the dim, 
 cloudy air. Towards the other end the hills sink lower, and 
 slope off into the plains of Lombardy. Near Arona, on the 
 western side, is a large monastery, overlooking the lower 
 part of the lake. Beside it, on a hill, is a colossal statue of 
 San Carlo Borromeo, w^ho gave his name to the lovely islands 
 above. 
 
 After a seven hours' passage, we ran into Sesto Calende, 
 at the foot of the lake. Here passengers and baggage were 
 tumbled promiscuously on shore, the latter gathered into the 
 office to be examined, and the former left at liberty to ram- 
 ble about an hour until their passports could be signed. We 
 employed the time in trying the flavor of the grapes and 
 peaches of Lombardy, and in looking at the groups of tra- 
 vellers who had come down from the Alps with the annual 
 avalanche at this season. The custom-house officers were 
 
326 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 extremely civil and obliging, as tliey did not think necessary 
 to examine our knapsacks, and our passports being soon signed, 
 we were at liberty to enter again into the dominions of his 
 Majesty of Austria. Our companion, the German, whose 
 feet could carry him no further, took a seat on the top of a 
 diligence for Milan ; we left Sesto Oalende on foot, and 
 plunged into the cloud of dust which was whirling towards 
 the capital of Northern Italy. 
 
 We spent the night at the little village of Oasina, about 
 sixteen miles from Milan, and here made our first experience 
 of the honesty of Italian inns. We had taken the precaution 
 to inquire beforehand the price of a bed ; but it seemed un- 
 necessary and unpleasant, as well as evincing a mistrustful 
 spirit, to do the same with every article we asked for, so we 
 decided to leave it to the host's conscience not to overcharge 
 us Imagine our astonishment, however, when at starting, 
 a bill was presented to us, in which the smallest articles 
 were set down at three or four times their value. We re- 
 monstrated, but to little purpose ; the fellow knew scarcely 
 any French, and we as little Italian, so rather than lose time 
 and temper, we paid what he demanded and went on, leav- 
 ing him to laugh at the successful imposition. 
 
 About noon, the road turned into a broad and beautiful 
 avenue of poplars, down which we saw at a distance, the 
 triumphal arch terminating the Simplon road, which we had 
 followed from Sesto Calende. Beyond it rose the slight and 
 airy pinnacle of the Duomo. We passed by the exquisite 
 structure, gave up our passports at the gates, traversed the 
 broad Piazza d' Armi, and found ourselves at liberty to choose 
 one of the dozen streets that led into the heart of the city. 
 
CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 MILAN AND THE JOURNEY TO GENOA. 
 
 The Streets of Milan— The Duomo— Its Interior— Art based on Nature— Italian 
 Priestcraft— The Arch of Peace— Financial Distress— Eelieved by a German 
 Lawyer — Thunder Storms — Lions in Pavia — Crossing the Po — Magnificent View 
 of the Alps — The Second Day's Travel — An Italian Sunset — A Pinta of "Wine — 
 Morning— Pilgrim Travel— First View of the Mediterranean— The Descent to 
 Genoa. 
 
 While seeking our way at random to the " Pension Suisse," 
 wliither we had been directed by a German gentleman, we 
 were agreeably impressed with the gaiety and bustle of 
 Milan. The shops and stores are all open to the street, so 
 that the city resembles a great bazaar. It was odd to see 
 blacksmiths, tailors, and shoemakers, working unconcernedly 
 in the open air, with crowds continually passing before them. 
 The streets are filled with venders of fruit, who call out the 
 names with a long, distressing cry, like that of a person 
 in great agony. Organ-grinders parade constantly about, 
 and snatches of song are heard among the gay crowd, on 
 every side. 
 
328 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 In this lively, noisy Italian city, nearly all there is to see 
 may be comprised in four things : the Duomo, the triumphal 
 arch over the Simplon, La Scala, and the Picture Gallery. 
 The first alone is more interesting than many an entire 
 city. It stands in an irregular open place, closely hemmed 
 in by houses on two sides, so that it can be seen to advan- 
 tage from only one point. It is a mixture of the Gothic and 
 Romanesque styles ; the body of the structure is entirely 
 covered with statues and richly wrought sculpture, with 
 needle-like spires of white marble rising up from every 
 corner. But of the exquisite, airy look of the whole mass, 
 although so solid and vast, it is impossible to convey an 
 idea. It resembles some fabric of frost-work which winter 
 traces on the window panes. , 
 
 Ascending the marble steps which lead to the front, I 
 lifted the f3lds of the heavy curtain and entered. "What a 
 glorious aisle ! The mighty pillars support a magnificent 
 arched ceiling, painted to resemble fretwork, and the little 
 light that falls through the small windows above, enters 
 tinged with a dim golden hue. A feeling of solemn awe 
 comae over one as he steps with a hushed tread along the 
 colored marble floor, and measures the massive columns 
 until they blend with the gorgeous arches above. There 
 are four rows of these, nearly fifty in all, and when I state 
 that they are eight feet in diameter, and sixty or seventy in 
 height, some idea may be formed of the grandeur of the 
 building. The Duomo is not yet entirely finished, the 
 workmen being still employed in various parts, but it is said 
 that, when completed, there will be four thousand statues 
 on different parts of it. 
 
ART BASED ON NATURE. 329 
 
 The design of the Duomo is said to be taken from Monte 
 Rosa, one of the loftiest peaks of the Alps. Its hundreds 
 of sculptured pinnacles, rising from every part of the body 
 of the church, certainly bear a striking resemblance to the 
 splintered ice-crags of Savoy. Thus we see how Art, 
 mighty and endless in her forms though she be, is in every- 
 thing but the child of Nature. Her divinest conceptions are 
 but copies of objects which we behold every day. The 
 faultless beauty of the Corinthian capital — the springing 
 and intermingling arches of the Gothic aisle — the pillared 
 portico or the massive and sky-piercing pyramid — are but 
 attempts at reproducing, by the studied regularity of Art, 
 the ever-varied and ever-beautiful forms of mountain, rock 
 and forest. But there is oftentimes a more thrilling sensa- 
 tion of enjoyment produced by the creation of man's hand 
 and intellect than the grander effects of Nature, existing 
 constantly before our eyes. It would seem as if man mar- 
 velled more at his own work than at the work of the Power 
 which created him. 
 
 The streets of Milan abound with priests in their cocked 
 hats and long black robes. No sight lately has saddened 
 me so much as to see a bright, beautiful boy, of twelve or 
 thirteen years, in those gloomy garments. Poor child !. he 
 little knows now what he may have to endure. A lonely, 
 cheerless life, where every affection must be crushed as un- 
 holy, and every pleasure denied as a crime ! And I knew 
 by his fair brow and tender lip, that he had a warm and 
 loving heart. It is mournful to see a people oppressed in 
 the name of religion. Immense treasures, wrung drCp by 
 drop from the credulity of the poor and ignorant, are made 
 
330 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 use of to pamper the luxury of those who profess to be 
 mediators between man and the Deity. The poor wretch 
 may perish of starvation on a floor of precious mosaic which 
 perhaps his own pittance has helped to form, while ceilings 
 and shrines of inlaid gold mock his dying eye with their 
 useless splendor. Such a system of oppression, disguised 
 under the holiest name, can only be sustained by the con- 
 tinuance of ignorance and blind superstition. Knowledge — 
 Truth- — Reason — these are the ramparts which Liberty 
 throws up to guard her dominions from usurpation. 
 
 Kext to the Duomo, the most beautiful specimen of archi- 
 tecture in Milan is the Arch of Peace on the northern side 
 of the city, at the termination of the Simplon Road. It was 
 the intention of Napoleon to carry the road under this 
 arch, across the Piazza d' Armi, and to cut a way for it direct- 
 ly into the Iveart of the city, but the fall of his dynasty pre- 
 vented the execution of this magnificent design, as well as 
 the completion of the arch itself. This has been done by 
 the Austrian government, according to the original plan ; 
 but they have inscribed upon it the name of Francis I., and 
 changed the bas-reliefs of Lodi and Marengo into those of 
 fields where their forces had gained the victory. It is even 
 said that in many parts which were already finished, they 
 altered the splendid Roman profile of Napoleon into the hag- 
 gard features of Francis of Austria. 
 
 The bronze statues on the top were made by an artist of 
 Bologna, by Napoleon's order, and are said to be among the 
 finest works of modern times. In the centre is the goddess 
 of Pe'ace, in a triumphal car, drawn by six horses, while on 
 the corners four angels, mounted, are setting out to convey 
 
FINANCIAL DISTRESS. 331 
 
 the tidings to the four quarters of the globe. The artist has 
 caught the spirit of motion and chained it in these moveless 
 figures. One would hardly feel surprised if the goddess, 
 chariot, horses and all, were to start and roll away through 
 the air. 
 
 We saw the opera of William Tell at La Scala, visited 
 the famous Picture Gallery in the Palazzo Cabrera, and after 
 a stay of two days, were ready to continue our journey, but 
 for one very disagreeable circumstance. Nearly all our 
 funds were contained in a draft on a Saxon merchant in 
 Leghorn, which was useless in Milan ; we had failed to re- 
 ceive at Heidelberg a sum which our host in Frankfort 
 promised to send us, and there was barely enough in our 
 pockets to pay our bill at the Pension Suisse. Our German 
 companion had gone off to Como, on his way homeward, 
 and we knew no one in the city. AVhat Avas to be done ? 
 We racked our brains to find some expedient, but without 
 success, when, on coming out of the Duomo one afternoon, 
 we encountered Mittermaier, the distinguished Law Profes- 
 sor in the University of Heidelberg, with whom my cousin 
 was slightly acquainted. It was a bold undertaking to ask 
 
 assistance of such a man, but F resolved to do it, and 
 
 accordingly visited him in the evening at his hotel. Herr 
 Mittermaier was no doubt accustomed to applications of the 
 kind, and very likely his confidence had often been abused, 
 for he showed great reluctance, but finally consented, with a 
 bad grace, to advance two napoleons, to be repaid in Heidel- 
 berg, at the commencement of the next University term. 
 
 We shared thoroughly in F 's mortification and wounded 
 
 pride when he returned to us, and resolved to undergo any- 
 
332 VIEWS A- FOOT. 
 
 thing but starvation before asking a similar favor of any one 
 again. We paid our bill the same night, and in order to 
 make our slender store last as long as possible, arose at dawn 
 and set out on foot for Glenoa. 
 
 Once fairly outside of the city we took the road to Pavia, 
 along the banks of the canal, just as the rising sun gilded 
 the marble spire of the Duomo, The country was a perfect 
 level, and the canal, which was in many places higher than 
 the land through which it passed, served also as a means of 
 irrigation for the many rice-fields. The sky grew cloudy 
 and dark, and before we reached Pavia gathered to a heavy 
 storm. Torrents of rain poured down, accompanied with 
 heavy thunder ; we crept under an old gateway for shelter, 
 as no house was near. Finally, as the clouds cleared away, 
 the sq[uare brown towers of the old city rose above the trees, 
 and we entered the gate through a fine shaded avenue. Our 
 passports were of course demanded, but we "were only de- 
 tained a minute or two. The only thing of interest is the 
 University, formerly so celebrated ; it has at present about 
 eight hundred students. 
 
 We have reason to remember the city from another circum- 
 stance — the singular attention we excited. I doubt if 
 Columbus was an object of greater curiosity to the simple 
 natives of the new world, than we three Americans were to 
 the good people of Pavia. I know not what part of our 
 dress or appearance could have caused it, but we were 
 watched like wild animals. If we happened to pause and 
 look at anything in the street, there was soon a crowd of 
 attentive observers, and as we passed on, every door and 
 window was full of heads. We stopped in the market-place 
 
CROSSING THE PO. 333 
 
 to purcliase some bread and fruit for dinner, which increased, 
 if possible, the sensation. • We saw eyes staring and fingers 
 pointing at us from every door and allej. I am generally 
 willing to contribute as much as possible to the amusement 
 or entertainment of others, but such attention was absolutely 
 embarrassing. There was nothing to do but to appear 
 unconscious of it, and we went along with as much noncha- 
 lance as if the whole town belonged to us. 
 
 We crossed the Ticino, on whose banks near Pavia, was 
 fought the first great battle between Hannibal and the 
 Romans. On the other side our passports were demanded 
 at the Sardinian frontier and our knapsacks searched, which 
 having proved satisfactory, we were allowed to enter the 
 kingdom. Late in the afternoon we reached the Po, which 
 in winter must be a quarter of a mile wide, but the summer 
 heats had dried it up to a small stream, so that the bridge of 
 boats rested nearly its whole length in sand. We sat on the 
 bank in the shade, and looked at the chain of hills which 
 rose in the south, following the course of the Po, crowned 
 with castles and villages and shining towers. It was here 
 that I first began to realize Italian scenery. Although the 
 hills were bare, they lay so warm and glowing in the sun- 
 shine, and the deep blue sky spread so calmly above, that it 
 recalled all my dreams of the fair land we had entered. 
 
 We stopped for the night at the little village of Casteggio, 
 which lies at the foot of the hills, and next morning resumed 
 our pilgrimage. Here a new delight awaited us. The sky 
 was of a heavenly blue, without even the shadow of a cloud, 
 and full and fair in the morning sunshine we could see the 
 whole range of the Alps, from the blue hills of Friuli, which 
 
334 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 sweep down to Venice and the Adriatic, to the lofty peaks 
 which stretch away to Nice and Marseilles ! Like a summer 
 cloud, except that they were far more dazzling and glorious, 
 lay to the north of us the glaciers and untrodden snow-fields 
 of the Bernese Oberland ; a little to the right we saw the 
 double peak of St. Gothard, where six days before we shi- 
 vered in the region of eternal winter, while far to the north- 
 west rose the giant dome of Mont Blanc. Monte Rosa stood 
 near him, not far from the Great St. Bernard, and further to 
 the south Mont Cenis guarded the entrance from Piedmont 
 into France. I leave the reader to conceive the majesty of 
 such a scene, and he may perhaps imagine, for I cannot de- 
 scribe, the feelings with which I gazed upon it. 
 
 At Tortona, the next post, a great market was being held ; 
 the town was filled with country people selling their produce, 
 and with venders of wares of all kinds. Fruit was very 
 plentiful — grapes, ripe figs, peaches and melons were abun- 
 dant, and for a trifle one could purchase a sumptuous baif- 
 quet. On inquiring the road to Novi, the people made us 
 understand, after much difficulty, that there was a nearer 
 way across the country, which came into the post-road again, 
 and we agreed to take it. After two or three hours' walk- 
 ing in a burning sun, where our only relief was the sight of 
 the Alps and a view of the battle-field of Marengo, which lay 
 just on our right, we came to a stand — the road terminated 
 at a large stream, where workmen were busily engaged in 
 making a bridge across. We pulled off our boots and 
 waded through, took a refreshing bath in the clear waters, 
 and walked on through by-lanes. The sides were lined 
 with luxuriant vines, bending under the ripening vintage, 
 
SUNSET VIEW OF THE ALPS. 335 
 
 and we often cooled our thirst with some of the rich 
 bunches. 
 
 The large branch of the Po we crossed, came down from 
 the mountains, which we were approaching. As we reached 
 the post-road again, they were glowing in the last rajs of the 
 sun, and the evening vapors that settled over the plain con- 
 cealed the distant Alps, although the snowy top of the Jung- 
 frau and her companions the Wetterhorn and Schreckhorn, 
 rose above it like the hills of another world. A castle or 
 church of brilliant white marble glittered on the summit of 
 one of the mountains near us, and as the sun went down 
 without a cloud, the distant peaks changed in hue to a glowing 
 purple, amounting almost to crimson, which afterwards dark- 
 ened into a deep violet. The western half of the sky was 
 of a pale orange, and the eastern a dark rose-color, which 
 blended together in the blue of the zenith, that deepened as 
 twilight came on. 
 
 • We stopped the second night at Arquato, a little village 
 among the mountains, and after having bargained with the 
 merry landlord for our lodgings, in broken Italian, took a last 
 look at the plains of Piedmont and the Swiss Alps, in the 
 growing twilight. On ordering our supper, the landlord 
 asked whether we would have a pinta of wine. In our igno- 
 rance of Italian we supposed that a pinta of course meant 
 a pint, and on learning that it cost about seven cents, sup- 
 posed that the wine must be very good. But the pinta 
 proved to be three quarts at least, and we drank the whole 
 of it (having paid for it) without exhilaration. We gazed 
 out on the darkening scene until the sky was studded with 
 stars, and went to rest with the exciting thought of seeing 
 
336 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 G-enoa and the Mediterranean on the morrow. Next morn- 
 ing we started early, and after walking some distance made 
 our breakfast in a grove of chestnuts, on the cool mountain 
 side, beside a fresh stream of water. The sky shone like a 
 polished gem, and the glossy leaves of the chestnuts gleamed 
 in the morning sun. Here and there, on a rocky height, 
 stood the remains of some knightly castle, telling of the Goths 
 and Normans who descended through these mountain passes 
 to plunder E-ome. 
 
 As the sun grew high,. the heat and dust became intolera- 
 ble, and this, in connection with the attention we raised 
 everywhere, made us somewhat tired of foot-travelling in 
 Italy. I verily believe the people took us for pilgrims on 
 account of our long white blouses, and had I a scallop shell 
 I would certainly have stuck it into my hat to complete the 
 appearance. We stopped once to ask a priest about the 
 road, and when he had told us, he shook hands with us and 
 gave us a parting benediction. At the common inns, wherfe 
 we stopped, we always met with civil treatment, though, in- 
 deed, as we only slept in them, there was little chance of 
 practising imposition. We bought our simple meals at the 
 baker's and grocer's, and ate them in the shade of the grape 
 bowers, whose rich clusters added to the repast. In this 
 manner, we enjoyed Italy at the expense of a franc 
 daily. 
 
 About noon, after winding about through the narrow de- 
 files, the road began ascending. The reflected heat from 
 the hills on each side made it like an oven ; there was not 
 a breath of air stirring ; but we all felt, although no one said 
 it, that from the summit we should see the Mediterranean, 
 
FIRST VIEW OF THE MEDITERRANEAN. 337 
 
 and we pushed on as if life or death depended on it. 
 Finally, the highest point came in sight — we redoubled our 
 exertions, and a few minutes more brought us to the top, 
 breathless with fatigue and expectation. I glanced down 
 the other side, and a confusion of barren mountains lay be- 
 fore me ; the farthest peaks rose up afar and dim, crowned 
 with white towers, and between two of them which stood apart, 
 like the pillars of a gateway, we saw the broad expanse of 
 blue water stretching away to the horizon ! 
 
 It would have been a thrilling delight to see any ocean, 
 when one has rambled thousands of miles among the moun- 
 tains and vales of the inland, but to behold this sea, of all 
 others, was glorious indeed ! This sea, whose waves wash 
 the feet of Naples, Constantinople and Alexandria, and 
 break on the hoary shores where Troy and Tyre and Car- 
 thage have mouldered away — whose breast has been fur- 
 rowed by the keels of a hundred nations through more than 
 forty centuries, from the first rude voyage of Jason and his 
 Argonauts to the thunders of Navarino that heralded the 
 second birth of Greece ! You cannot wonder that we grew 
 romantic ; but short space was left for sentiment in the 
 burning sun, with Genoa to be reached before night. The 
 mountain we crossed is called the Bochetta, one of the 
 loftiest of the sea- Alps (or Appenines). The road winds 
 steeply down towards the sea, following a broad mountain 
 rivulet, now dried up, as is nearly every stream among the 
 mountains. It was a long way to us ; the mountains seem- 
 ed as if they would never unfold and let us out on the 
 shore, and our weary limbs did penance enough for a multi- 
 tude of sins. The dusk was beginning to deepen over the 
 15 
 
338 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 bay, and the purple hues of sunset were dying away from 
 its amphitheatre of hills, as we came in sight of the gorge- 
 ous city. Half the population were out to celebrate a fes- 
 tival, and we made our entry in the triumphal procession of 
 some saint. 
 
OHAPTEE, XXXII. 
 
 SCENES IN GENOA, LEGHORN, AND PISA. 
 
 Genoa at Sunset— Appearance of the City— A Eeligious Procession— Another 
 Financial Difficulty— Embarking for Leghorn— A Night at Sea— Morning in Tus- 
 cany—Landing—A Polyglott Population— The Ardenza— Criminals at Work— My 
 Comrades Believed- Approach to Pisa— The City— The Leaning Tower— The 
 Echo in the Baptistery— The Campo Santo — A Vetturino for Florence— An 
 Italian Companion — Night-Journey in the Eain — Florence at Last. 
 
 Has the reader ever seen some grand painting of a city, 
 rising with its domes and towers and palaces from the edge 
 of a glorious bay, shut in by mountains — the whole scene 
 clad in those deep, delicious, sunny hues, which we admire 
 so much in the picture, although they appear unrealized in 
 Nature? If so, he can figure to himself Genoa, as she 
 appeared to us at sunset, from the battlements west of the 
 city. When we had passed through the gloomy gate of the 
 fortress that guards the western promontory, the whole 
 scene opened on us at once in all its majesty. The battle- 
 ments where we were standing, and the blue mirror of the 
 Mediterranean just below, with a few vessels moored near the 
 shore, made up the foreground ; just in front lay the (][ueenly 
 
340 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 city, «tretcliing out to tlie eastern point of the bay, like 'a 
 great meteor — this point, crowned with the towers and 
 dome of a cathedral, representing the nucleus, while the tail 
 gradually widened out and was lost among the numberless 
 villas that reached to the top of the mountains behind. As 
 we gazed, a purple glow lay on the bosom of the sea, while 
 .far beyond the city, the eastern half of the mountain cres- 
 cent around the gulf was tinted with the loveliest hue of 
 orange. The impressions which one derives from looking 
 on remarkable scenery depend, for much of their effect, on 
 the time and weather. I have been very fortunate in this 
 respect in two instances, and shall carry with me through 
 life, two glorious pictures of a very different character — the 
 wild sublimity of the Brocken in cloud and storm, and the 
 splendor of Genoa in an Italian sunset. 
 
 Genoa has been called the " city of palaces," and it well 
 deserves the appellation. Eow above row of magnificent 
 structures rise amid gardens along the side of the hills, and 
 many of the streets, though narrow and crooked, are lined 
 entirely with the splendid dwellings of the Genoese nobles. 
 All these speak of the republic in its days of wealth and 
 power, when it could cope successfully with Venice, and 
 Doria could threaten to bridle the horses of St. Mark. At 
 present its condition is far different ; although not so fallen 
 as its rival, it is but a shadow of its former self. 
 
 We entered Genoa, as I have already said, in a religious 
 procession. On passing the gate we saw from the concourse 
 of people and the many banners hanging from the windows 
 or floating across the streets, that it was the day of a.festa. 
 Before entering the city we reached the procession itself, 
 
A RELIGIOUS PROCESSION. 341 
 
 whicli was one of unusual solemnity. As it was impossible 
 in the dense crowd to pass it, we struggled through until we 
 reached a good point for seeing the whole, and slowly moved 
 on with it through the city. First went a company of boys 
 in white robes ; then followed a body of friars, dressed in 
 long black cassocks, and with shaven crowns ; then a com- 
 pany of soldiers with a band of music ; then a body of nuns, 
 wrapped from head to foot in blue robes, and chanting in a 
 low voice ; then followed another company of friars, and 
 after thent a great number of priests in white and black 
 robes, bearing the statue of the saint, with a pyramid of 
 flowers, crosses, and blazing wax tapers, while companies of 
 soldiery, monks, and music, brought up the rear. The 
 whole scene, dimly lighted by the wax tapers, produced in 
 me a feeling nearly akin to fear, as if I were witnessing 
 some ghostly, unearthly spectacle. To rites like these, 
 however, which occur every few weeks, the people must be 
 well accustomed. 
 
 Although we had spent but three francs apiece since 
 leaving Milan, and hoped to save enough to enable one of 
 us to go on to Leghorn and have our draft cashed, we found 
 that the signing of a passport would cost twenty francs {ten 
 of which went to the American Consulate), and a second- 
 cabin passage to Leghorn as much more. We again fell 
 short, and in this emergency applied to Mr. Moro, the Ameri- 
 can Vice-Oonsul. After submitting the draft to his secretary, 
 who was a German and pronounced it genuine, and who 
 made many unsuccessful inquiries among the merchants to 
 ascertain whether the house on which it was drawn had any 
 correspondents in Genoa, Mr. Moro finally agreed to advance 
 
342 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 me money for my passage, with the understanding that I 
 should immediately forward enough to repay him, and to 
 relieve my two friends, who were to remain behind as 
 hostages. Our second embarrassment was thus overcome, 
 and we now felt confident of getting to Florence before 
 any further difficulties occurred. There was a boat to 
 leave the same evening for Leghorn, and I at once took 
 
 The Virgilio was advertised to leave at six o'clock, and I 
 accordingly went out to her in a little boat half an hour 
 beforehand ; but we were delayed much longer, and I saw 
 sunset again fade over the glorious amphitheatre of palaces 
 and mountains, with the same orange glow — the same purple 
 and crimson flush, deepening into twilight — as before. An 
 old blind man in a skiff, floated around under the bows of the 
 boat on the glassy water, singing to the violin a plaintive air 
 that appeared to be an evening hymn to the Virgin. There 
 was something very touching in his venerable countenance, 
 with the sightless eyes turned upward to the sunset heaven 
 whose glory he could never more behold. 
 
 The lamps were lit on the tower at the end of the mole as 
 we glided out on the open sea ; I stood on deck and watched 
 the receding lights of the city, until they and the mountains 
 above them were blended with the darkened sky. The sea- 
 breeze was fresh and cool, and the stars glittered with a 
 frosty clearness, which would have made the night delicious, 
 had not a slight rolling of the waves obliged me to go below. 
 Here, besides being half sea-sick, I was placed at the mercy 
 of many voracious fleas. This was the first time I had suf- 
 fered from these cannibals, and such were my torments, that 
 
MORNING IN TUSCANY. 343 
 
 I almost wislied some bloodthirsty Italian would come and 
 put an end to them with his stiletto. 
 
 The first ray of dawn that stole into the cabin sent me on 
 deck. The hills of Tuscany lay in front, sharply outlined 
 on the reddening sky ; near us was the steep and rocky isle 
 of Gorgona ; and far to the south-west, like a low mist along 
 the water, ran the shores of Corsica — the birth-place of 
 Columbus and Napoleon ! As the dawii brightened we saw 
 on the southern horizon a cloud-like island, also imperishably 
 connected with the name of the latter — the prison-kingdom 
 of Elba. North of us extended the rugged mountains of 
 Carrara — that renowned range whence has sprung many a 
 form of almost breathing beauty, and where yet slumber, 
 perhaps, in the unhewn marble, the god-like shapes of an 
 age of Art, more glorious than any the world has ever yet- 
 beheld ! 
 
 The sun rose from behind the Appenines, and masts and 
 towers became visible through the golden haze, as we 
 approached the shore. On a flat space between the sea and 
 the hills, not far from the foot of Montenero, stands Leg- 
 horn. The harbor is protected by a mole, leaving a narrow 
 passage, through which we entered, and after waiting two 
 hours for the visit of the health and police officers, we were 
 permitted to go on shore. The first thing that struck me, 
 was the fine broad streets ; the second, the motley character 
 of the population. People were hurrying about, noisy and 
 bustling — Creeks in their red caps and capotes ; grave 
 turbaned and bearded Turks ; dark Moors ; the corsair- 
 looking natives of Tripoli and Tunis, and seamen of nearly 
 every nation. At the hotel where I stayed, we had a singu- 
 
344 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 lar mixture of nations at dinner : — two Frencli, two Swiss, 
 one Genoese, one E-oman, one American and one Turk — 
 and we were waited on by a Tuscan and a Moor ! 
 
 The only place of amusement liere in summer is a drive 
 along the sea shore, called the Ardenza, which is frequented 
 every evening by all who can raise a vehicle. I visited it 
 twice with a German friend. The road leads out along the 
 Mediterranean, past an old fortress, to a large establishment 
 for sea bathers, where it ends in a large ring, around which 
 the carriages pass and re-pass, until sunset has gone out over 
 the sea, when they return to the city in a mad gallop, or as 
 fast as the lean horses can draw them. In driving around, 
 we met two or three carriages of Turks, in one of which I 
 saw a woman of Tunis, with a curious gilded head-dress, 
 eighteen inches in height. 
 
 I frequently witnessed a spectacle which was exceedingly 
 revolting to me. The condemned criminals, chained two and 
 two, are kept at work through the city, cleaning the streets. 
 They are dressed in coarse garments of a dirty red color, 
 with the name of the crime for which they were convicted, 
 painted on the back. I shuddered to see so many marked 
 with the words — " omicidio premeditatoP All day they are 
 thus engaged, exposed to the scorn and contumely of the 
 crowd, and at night dragged away to be incarcerated in 
 damp, unwholesome dungeons, excavated under the public 
 thoroughfares. 
 
 I presented my draft, drew a sufficient amount of money 
 for my needs, and forwarded the requisite sum to Genoa. I 
 noticed that Mr. Moro's correspondent insisted on sending 
 the money to him, instead of to my friends — ^probably to 
 
APPROACH TO PISA. 345 
 
 make sure of the payment of the loan. On going down to 
 
 the wharf two days afterwards, I found F and B 
 
 just stepping on shore from the steamboat, tired, enough of 
 the discomforts of the voyage, jet anxious to set out for Flo- 
 rence as soon as possible. After we had shaken off the crowd 
 of porters, pedlars and vetturini, and taken a hasty breakfast 
 at the Cafe A/nericano, we went to the Police Office to get 
 our passports, and had the satisfaction of paying two francs 
 for permission to proceed to Florence. The weather had 
 changed since the preceding day, and the sirocco-wind 
 which blows over from the coast of Africa, filled the streets 
 with clouds of dust, which made walking very unpleasant. 
 The clear blue sky had vanished, and a leaden cloud hung 
 low on the Mediterranean, hiding the shores of Corsica and 
 the rocky isles of Gorgona and Oapraja. 
 
 The country between Leghorn and Pisa is a flat marsh, 
 intersected in several places by canals to carry off the stag- 
 nant water which renders this district so unhealthy. The 
 entire plain between the mountains of Carrara and the hills 
 back of Leghorn has been gradually formed by the deposits 
 of the Arno and the receding of the Mediterranean, which 
 is so shallow along the whole coast, that large vessels have to 
 anchor several miles out. As we approached Pisa over the 
 level marsh, I could see the dome of the Cathedral and the 
 Leaning Tower rising above the gardens and groves which 
 surround the city. 
 
 Our baggage underwent another examination at the gate, 
 
 where we were again assailed by the vetturini, one of whom 
 
 hung on us like a leech until we reached a hotel, and there 
 
 was finally no way of shaking him off except by engaging 
 
 15* 
 
846 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 him to take tis to Florence. The bargain having been con- 
 cluded, we had still a few hours left, and set oiF to hunt the 
 Cathedral. . We found it on an open square near the outer 
 wall, and quite remote from the main part of the town. 
 Emerging from the narrow and winding street, one takes in 
 at a glance the Baptistery, the Campo Santo, the noble Cathe- 
 dral and the Leaning Tower — forming altogether a view 
 rarely surpassed in Europe for architectural effect. But the 
 square is -melancholy and deserted, and rank, untrampled 
 grass fills the crevices of its marble pavement. 
 
 I was surprised at the beauty of the Leaning ToAver. 
 Instead of an old, black, crumbling fabric, as I always supposed, 
 it is a light, airy, elegant structure, of white marble, and its 
 declension, which is interesting as a work of art (or accident), 
 is at the same time pleasing from its novelty. There have 
 been many conjectures as to the cause of tSis deviation, 
 which is upwards of fourteen feet from the perpendicular ; 
 but it is now generally believed that the earth having sunk 
 when the building was half finished, it was continued by 
 the architects at the same angle. The upper gallery, which 
 is smaller than the others, shows a very perceptible inclina- 
 tion back towards the perpendicular, as if in some degree 
 to counterbalance their deviation. There are eight galleries 
 in all, supported by marble pillars, but the inside of the 
 Tower is hollow to the very top. 
 
 We ascended by the same stairs which were trodden so 
 often by Galileo in going up to make his astronomical ob- 
 servations. In climbing spirally around the hollow cylinder 
 in the dark, it was easy to tell on which side of the Tower 
 we were, from the proportionate steepness of the staircase. 
 
THE ECHO IN THE BAPTISTERY. 347 
 
 There is a fine view from the top, embracing the whole 
 plain as far as Leghorn on one side, with its gardens and 
 grain fields spread out like a vast map. In a valley of the 
 Carrarese Mountains to the north, we could see the little 
 town of Lucca, much frequented at this season on account 
 of its baths ; the blue summits of the Appenines shut in the 
 view to the east. In walking through the city I noticed 
 two other towers, which had nearly as great a deviation 
 from the perpendicular. We met a person who had the key 
 of the Baptistery, which he opened for us. Two ancient 
 columns covered with rich sculpture form the doorway, and 
 the dome is supported by massive pillars of the red marble 
 of Elba. The baptismal font is of the purest Parian mar- 
 ble. The most remarkable thing was the celebrated musical 
 echo. Our cicerone stationed himself at the side of the font 
 and sang a few notes. After a moment's pause they were 
 repeated aloft in the dome, but with a sound of divine sweet- 
 ness — as clear and pure as the clang of a crystal bell. 
 Another pause — and we heard them again, higher, fainter 
 and sweeter, followed by a dying note, as if they were fad- 
 ing far away into heaven. It seemed as if an angel lingered 
 in the temple, echoing with his melodious lips the common 
 harmonies of earth. 
 
 The Campo Santo, on the north side of the Cathedral, 
 was, until lately, the cemetery of the city ; the space in- 
 closed within its marble galleries is filled to the depth of 
 eight or ten feet, with earth from the Holy Land. The ves- 
 sels which carried the knights of Tuscany to Palestine were 
 filled at Joppa before returning, with this earth as ballast, 
 and on arriving at Pisa it was deposited in the Cemetery. 
 
318 TIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 It lias a peculiar property of decomposing all human bodies 
 in a very short time. A colonnade of marble incloses it, 
 with windows of exquisite sculpture opening on the inside. 
 At each end are two fine, green cypresses, which thrive re- 
 markably in the soil of Palestine. The dust of a German 
 emperor, among others, rests in this consecrated ground. 
 There are other fine churches in Pisa, but the four build- 
 ings I have mentioned, are the principal objects of inter- 
 est. The tower where Count Ugolino and his sons were 
 starved to death by the citizens of Pisa, who locked them 
 up and threw the keys into the Arno, has lately been 
 destroyed. 
 
 An Italian gentleman having made a bargain in the 
 meantime with our vetturino, we found every thing ready 
 on returning to the hotel. On the outside of the town we 
 mounted into the vehicle, a rickety-looking concern, and as 
 it commenced raining, I was afraid we would have a bad 
 night of it. After a great deal of bargaining, the vetturino 
 agreed to take us to Florence that night for five francs 
 apiece, provided one person would sit on the outside with 
 the driver. I accordingly mounted in front protected by a 
 blouse and umbrella, for it was beginning to rain dismally. 
 The miserable, bare-boned horses were fastened with rope- 
 traces, and the vetturino having taken the rope-lines in his 
 hand, gave a flourish with his whip ; one old horse tumbled 
 nearly to the ground, but he jerked him up again and we 
 rattled off. 
 
 After riding ten miles in this way, it became so wet and 
 dreary, that I was fain to give the driver two francs extra 
 for the privilege of an inside seat. Our Italian companion 
 
NIGHT-JOURNEY IN THE RAIN. 349 
 
 was agreeable and talkative, but as we were still ignorant 
 of tbe language, I managed to hold a scanty conversation 
 with him in French. He seemed dehghted to learn that we 
 were from America ; his polite reserve gave place to a 
 friendly familiarity, and he was loud in his praises of the 
 Americans. I asked him why it was that he and the Italians 
 generally were so friendly towards us. *' I hardly know," 
 he answered ; " you are so different from any other nation ; 
 and then, too, you have so much sincerity.'* 
 
 The Appenines were wreathed and hidden in thick mist, 
 and the prospect over the flat cornfields bordering the road 
 was not particularly interesting. We had made about one- 
 third of the way as night set in, when on ascending a hill 
 
 soon after dark, F happened to look out, and saw one 
 
 of the axles bent and nearly broken off. We were obliged 
 to get out and walk through the mud to the next village, 
 when, after two hours' delay, the vetturino came along with 
 another carriage. Of the rest of the way to Florence, I 
 cannot say much. Cooped up in the narrow vehicle, we 
 jolted along in the dark, rumbling now and then through 
 some silent village, where lamps were burning before the 
 solitary shrines. Sometimes a blinding light crossed the 
 road, where we saw the tile-makers sitting in the red glare 
 of their kilns, and often the black boughs of trees were 
 painted momentarily on the cloudy sky. If the jolting 
 carriage had even permitted sleep, the horrid cries of the 
 vetturino, urging on his horses, would have prevented it ; 
 and I decided, v^^hile trying to relieve my aching limbs, that 
 three days' walking in sun and sand was preferable to one 
 night of such travel. 
 
350 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 Finally about four o'clock in the morning the carriage 
 stopped ; my Italian friend awoke and demanded the cause. 
 " Signor," said the vetturino, ^' we are in Florence ! ^^ I 
 blessed the man, and the city too. The good-humored 
 officer looked at our passports and passed cur baggage without 
 examination ; we gave the gatekeeper a paul and he ad- 
 mitted us. The carriage rolled through the dark, silent 
 streets — passed a public square — came out on the Arno — 
 crossed and entered the city again — and finally stopped at a 
 hotel. The master of the ^^Lione Bianco " came down in 
 an undress to receive us, and we shut the growing dawn out 
 of our rooms to steal that repose from the day which the 
 night had not given. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 RESIDENCE IN FLORENCE. 
 
 Rooms in Florence— Cost of Living — The Eoyal Gallery — The Venus de Medici — 
 Titian and Raphael— Michael Angelo— The Hall of Niobe— Value of Art to Italy— 
 A Walk to Fiesole — View of Val d'Arno — Ancient Roman Theatre — Etruscan 
 Wall*— The Tombs of Santa Croce— The Pitti Palace— Titian's " Bella"— The Ma- 
 donna della Sedia — ^Michael Angelo'a "Fates" — The Boboli Gardens — Royal and 
 Republican Children. 
 
 Florence, September, 1845. 
 On the day after our arrival here we met an American at 
 the table d'hote of the Lione Bianco, who was kind enough 
 to assist us in procuring rooms, and in twenty -four hours we 
 were comfortably and permanently installed in Florence. 
 We have taken three large and tolerably well furnished 
 rooms in the house of Signor Lazzeri, a wealthy goldsmith, 
 in the Via Vacchereccia, for which we pay ten scudi per 
 month — a scudo being a trifle more than an American dollar. 
 This includes lights, and the attendance of servants, to 
 whom, however, we are expected to give an occasional 
 gratuity. We live at the Coffee and Traftorie very readily 
 for about twenty -five cents a day, so that our expenses will 
 
362 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 not exceed twelve dollars a montli; each. For our dinners at 
 the Trattoria del Cacciatore we pay about fourteen cents, 
 and are furnished with soup, three or four dishes of meat 
 and vegetables, fruit and a bottle of wine ! These dinners 
 are made exceedingly pleasant and cheerful by the society 
 of several American artists whose acquaintance we have 
 made. Another countryman, Mr. Tandy, of Kentucky, 
 occupies a room in the same building with us, and will make 
 our trio complete after the departure of my cousin, who will 
 
 leave* shortly for Heidelberg. B and I are so charmed 
 
 with the place and the beautiful Tuscan dialect, that we 
 shall endeavor to spend three or four months here and master 
 the language, before proceeding further. 
 
 Our first walk in Florence was to the Hoyal Gallery. 
 Crossing the neighboring Piazza del Granduca, we passed 
 Michael Angelo's colossal statue of David, and an open gal- 
 lery containing, besides some antiques, the master-piece of' 
 John of Bologna. The palace of the Ufizii, fronting on 
 the Arno, extends along both sides of an avenue running- 
 back to the Palazzo Vecchio. We entered the portico 
 which passes around under the great building, and after 
 ascending three or four flights of steps, came into a long hall, 
 filled with paintings and ancient statuary. Towards the 
 end of this, a door opened into the Tribune — that celebrated 
 room, unsurpassed by any in the world for the number and 
 value of the gems it contains. I pushed aside a crimson 
 curtain and stood in the presence of the Venus de Medici. 
 
 It may be considered heresy, but I confess I did not go 
 into raptures, nor at first perceive any traces of superhuman 
 beauty. The predominant feeling was satisfaction ; the eye 
 
TITIAN AND RAPHAEL. 353 
 
 dwells on its exquisite outline with a gratified sense, that 
 nothing is wanting to render it perfect. It is the ideal of a 
 woman's form— a faultless standard bj which all beauty may 
 be measured, but without marked expression, except in the 
 modest and graceful position of the limbs. The face, though 
 regular, is not handsome, and the body appears small, being 
 but five feet in height, which, I think, is a little below the 
 average stature of women. On each side, as if to heighten 
 its elegance by contrast with rude and vigorous nature, are 
 the statues of the Wrestlers, and the slave listening to the 
 conspiracy of Catiline, called also The Whetter. 
 
 As if to correspond with the value of the works it holds, 
 the Tribune is paved with precious marbles and the ceiling 
 studded with polished mother-of-pearl. A dim and subdued 
 light fills the hall, and throws over the mind that half- 
 dreamy tone necessary to the full enjoyment of such objects. 
 On each side of the Venus de Medici hangs a Venus by 
 Titian, the size of life, and painted in that rich and gorgeous 
 style of coloring which has been so often and vainly attempt- 
 ed since his time. Here also are six of Raphael's best pre- 
 served paintings. I prefer the " St. John in the Desert" to 
 any other picture in the Tribune. His glorious form, in the 
 fair proportions of ripening boyhood — the grace of his atti- 
 tude, with the arm lifted eloquently on high — the divine 
 inspiration which illumines his young features— chain the 
 step irresistibly before it. It is one of those triumphs of the 
 pencil which few but Raphael have accomplished. 
 
 The *' Drunken Bacchus" of Michael Angelo is greatly 
 admired, and indeed it might pass for a relic of the palmiest 
 times of Grecian art. The face, amidst its half-vacant> 
 
354 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 sensual expression, sIioays traces of its immortal origin, and 
 there is still an air of dignity preserved in the swagger of 
 his beautiful form. At one end of the gallery is a fine copy 
 in marble of the Laocoon, by Bandinelli, one of the rivals 
 of Michael Angelo. When it was finished, the former boast- * 
 ed it was better than the original, to which Michael made 
 the apt reply : " It is foolish for those who walk in the foot- 
 steps of others, to say they go before them !" 
 
 Let us enter the hall of Niobe. One starts back on seeing 
 the many figures in the attitude of flight, for they seem at 
 first about to spring from their pedestals. At the head of 
 the room stands the afflicted mother, bending over the 
 youngest daughter, who clings to her knees, with an upturn- 
 ed countenance of deep and imploring agony. In vain ! 
 the shafts of Apollo fall thick, and she will soon be childless. 
 No wonder the strength of that woe depicted on her counte- 
 nance should change her into stone. One of her sons — a 
 beautiful, boyish form,— is lying on his back, just expiring, 
 with the chill languor of death creeping over his limbs. We 
 • seem to hear the quick whistling of the arrows, and look 
 involuntarily into the air to see the hovering figure of the 
 avenging god. In a chamber near is kept the head of a 
 faun, made by Michael Angelo, at the age of fourteen, in 
 the garden of Lorenzo de Medici, from a piece of marble 
 given him by the workmen. 
 
 Italy still remains the home of Art, and it is but just she 
 should keep these treasures, though the age that brought 
 them forth has passed away. They are her only support 
 now ; her people are dependent for their subsistence on the 
 glory of the Past. The spirits of the old painters, living 
 
VALUE OF ART TO ITALY. 355 
 
 still on tlieir canvas, earn from year to year the bread of 
 an indigent and oppressed people. This ought to silence 
 those utilitarians at home, who oppose the cultivation of the 
 fine arts, on the ground of their being useless luxuries. Let 
 them look to Italy, where a picture by Raphael or Correggio 
 is a rich legacy for a whole city. Nothing is useless that 
 gratifies that perception of Beauty, which is at once the most 
 delicate and the most intense of our mental sensations, bind- 
 ing us by an unconscious link nearer to nature and to Him, 
 whose every thought is born of Beauty, Truth and Love. I 
 envy not the man who looks with a cold and indifferent 
 spirit on these immortal creations of the old masters — these 
 poems written in marble and on the canvas. They who 
 oppose every thing which can refine and spiritualize the 
 nature of man, by binding him down to the cares of the 
 work-day world alone, cheat life of half its glory. 
 
 The sky was clear and blue, as it always is in this Italian 
 paradise, when we left Florence a few days ago for Fiesole. 
 We passed the Porta Ban Gallo, with its triumphal arch to 
 the Emperor Francis, stridiug the road to Bologna, and 
 took the way to Fiesole along the dried-up bed of a mountain 
 torrent. The dwellings of the Florentine nobility occupy the 
 whole slope, surrounded with rich and lovely gardens. The 
 mountain and plain are covered with luxuriant olive or- 
 chards, Avhose foliage of silver gray gives the scene the look 
 of a moonlight landscape. At the base of the mountain of 
 Fiesole we passed one of the summer palaces of Lorenzo the 
 Magnificent, and a little distance beyond, took a foot-path 
 overshadowed by magnificent cypresses, between whose 
 
356 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 dark trunks we looked down on the lovely Val d'Arno. But 
 I will reserve all description of the view until we arrive at 
 the summit. 
 
 The modern village of Fiesole occupies the site of an 
 ancient city, generally supposed to be of Etrurian origin. 
 Just above, on one of the peaks of the mountain, stands the 
 Acropolis, formerly used as a fortress, but now untenanted 
 save by a few monks. From its walls, beneath the shade of 
 a few cypresses, there is a magnificent view of the whole of 
 Yal d'Arno, with Florence — the gem of Italy — in the cen- 
 tre. Stand with me a moment on the height, and let us 
 gaze on this grand panorama, around which the Apennines 
 stretch with a majestic sweep, wrapped in a robe of purple air, 
 through which shimmer the villas and villages on their sides ! 
 The lovely vale lies below us in its garb of olive groves, 
 among which beautiful villas are sprinkled as plentifully as 
 white anemones in the woods of May. Florence is in front 
 of us, the magnificent cupola of the Duomo crowning its 
 clustered palaces. We see the airy tower of the Palazzo 
 Vecchio — the new spire of Santa Croce — and the long front of 
 the Palazzo Pitti, with the dark foliage of the Boboli Gardens 
 behind. Beyond, far to the south, are the summits of the 
 mountains near Siena. We can trace the sandy bed of the 
 Arno down the valley until it disappears at the foot of the 
 Lower Appenines, which mingle in the distance with the 
 mountains of Carrara. 
 
 Galileo was wont to make observations " at evening from 
 the top of Fiesole," and the square tower of the old church 
 is still pointed out as the spot. Many a night did he ascend 
 
ANCIENT ROMAN THEATRE. 867 
 
 to its projecting terrace, and watch the stars as they rolled 
 around through the clearest heaven to which a philosopher 
 ever looked up. 
 
 We passed through an orchard of fig trees, and vines 
 laden with beautiful purple and golden clusters, and in a few 
 minutes reached the remains of an amphitheatre, in a little 
 nook on the mountain side. This was a work of Roman 
 construction, as its form indicates. Three or four ranges of 
 seats alone are laid bare, and these have only been dis- 
 covered within a few years. A few steps further we came 
 to a sort of cavern, overhung with wild fig-trees. After 
 creeping in at the entrance, we found ourselves in an oval 
 chamber, tall enough to admit of our standing upright, and 
 rudely but very strongly built. This was one of the dens 
 in which the wild beasts were kept ; they were fed by a 
 hole in the top, now closed up. This cell communicates 
 with four or five others, by apertures broken in the walls. I . 
 stepped into one, -and could see in the dim light, that it was 
 exactly similar to the first, and opened into another beyond. 
 
 Further down the mountain we found the ancient wall of 
 the city, without doubt of Etrurian origin. It is of immense 
 blocks of stone, and extends more or less dilapidated around 
 the whole brow of the mountain. In one place there stands 
 a solitary gateway, of large stones, which appears to have 
 been one of the first attempts at using the principle of the 
 arch. These ruins are all gray and ivied, and it startles 
 one to think what a history the Earth has lived through, 
 since their foundations were laid ! 
 
 One of my first visits was to the church of Santa Croce. 
 This is one of the oldest in Florence, venerated alike by 
 
358 
 
 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 foreigners and citizens, for the illustrious dead whose 
 remains it holds. It is a plain, gloomy pile, the front of 
 which is still unfinished, though at the base one sees that it 
 was originally designed to be covered with black marble. 
 On entering the door we first saw the tomb of Michael 
 Angelo. Around the marble sarcophagus which contains 
 his ashes are three mourning figures, representing Sculpture, 
 Painting, and Architecture, and his bust stands above — a 
 rough, stern countenance, like a man of vast but impatient 
 mind. Further on are the tombs of Alfieri and Machiavelli, 
 and the colossal cenotaph lately erected to Dante. Opposite 
 reposes Galileo. "What a world of renown in these few 
 names ! It makes one venerate the majesty of his race, to 
 stand beside the dust of such lofty spirits. 
 
 In that part of the city, which lies on the south bank of 
 the Arno. is the palace of the Grand Duke, known by the 
 name of the Palazzo Pitti, from a Florentine noble of that 
 name, by whom it was first built. It is a -very large, impos- 
 ing pile, preserving an air of lightness in spite of the rough, 
 heavy masonrv. It is another example of a magnificent 
 failure. The Marquis Strozzi, having built a palace which 
 was universally admired for its beauty, (which stands yet, a 
 model of chaste and massive elegance,) his rival, the Marquis 
 Pitti, made the proud boast that he would build a palace, in 
 the court-yard of which could be placed that of Strozzi. 
 These are actually the dimensions of the court-yard ; but in 
 building the palace, although he was liberally assisted by the 
 Florentine people, he ruined himself, and his magnificent 
 residence passed into other hands, while that of Strozzi is 
 inhabited by his descendants to this very day. 
 
GALLERY OF THE PITTI PALACE. 359 
 
 The gallery of the Palazzo Pitti is one of the finest in 
 Europe. It contains six or seven hundred paintings, select- 
 ed from the best works of the Italian masters. By the 
 praiseworthy liberality of the Duke, they are open to the 
 public, six hours every day, and the rooms are thronged 
 with artists of all nations. Among Titian's works, there is 
 his celebrated "Bella," a half-length figure of a young wo- 
 man. It is a masterpiece of warm and brilliant coloring, 
 without any decided expression. The countenance is that 
 of vague, undefined thought, as of one who knew as yet 
 nothing of the realities of life. In another room is his 
 Magdalen, a large, voluptuous form, with her brown hair 
 falling like a veil over her shoulders and breast, but in 
 her upturned countenance one can sooner read a prayer 
 for an absent lover than repentance for sins she has com- 
 mitted. 
 
 "What could excel in beauty the Madonna delta Sedia of 
 Haphael ? It is another of those works of that divine artist, 
 on which we gaze and gaze with a never-satisfied enjoyment 
 of its angelic loveliness. Like his unrivalled Madonna in the 
 Dresden Gallery, its beauty is spiritual as well as earthly ; 
 and while gazing on the glorious countenance of the Jesus- 
 child, I feel an impulse I can scarcely explain — a longing 
 to tear it from the canvas as if it were a breathing form, and 
 clasp it to my heart in a glow of passionate love. 
 
 There is a small group of the " Fates," by Michael Angelo, 
 which is one of the best of the few pictures that remain of 
 him. As is well known, he disliked the art, saying it was 
 only fit for women. This picture shows, however, how much 
 he might have done for it, had he been so inclined. The 
 
360 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 three weird sisters are gliostly and awful — the further one 
 holding the distaff, almost frightful. She who stands ready- 
 to cnt the thread as it is spun out, has a slight trace of pity on 
 her fixed and unearthly lineaments. It is a faithful embodi- 
 ment of the old Greek idea of the Fates. I have wondered 
 why some artist has not attempted the subject in a different 
 way. In the Northern Mythology they are represented as 
 wild maidens, armed with swords and mounted on fiery cour- 
 sers. Why might they not also be pictured as angels, with 
 countenances of a sublime and mysterious beauty — one all 
 radiant with hope and promise of glory, and one with the 
 token of a better future mingled with the sadness with which 
 she severs the links of life 1 
 
 Occupying all the hill back of the Pitti Palace, are the 
 Boboli Gardens, three times a week the great resort of the 
 Florentines. They are said to be the most beautiful gar- 
 dens in Italy. Numberless paths, diverging from a magni- 
 ficent amphitheatre in the old Homan style, opposite the 
 court-yard, lead either in long flights of steps and ter- 
 races, or gentle windings among beds sweet with roses, to 
 the summit. Long avenues entirely arched and embowered 
 with the thick foliage of the laurel, which here grows to a 
 tree, stretch along the slopes or wind in the woods through 
 thickets of the fragrant bay. Parterres, rich with flowers and 
 shrubbery, alternate with delightful groves of the Italian 
 pine, acacia, and the laurel-leaved oak ; and along the hill- 
 side, gleaming among the foliage, are placed statues of 
 marble, some of which are from the chisels of Michael 
 Angelo and Bandinelli. In one part there is a little sheet 
 of water, with an island of orange-trees in the centre, from 
 
ROYAL AND KEPUBLICAN CHILDREN. 361 
 
 whicli a broad avenue of cypresses and statues leads to tlie 
 very summit of the hill. 
 
 We often go there to watch the sun set over Florence 
 and the vale of the Arno. The palace lies directly below, 
 and a clump of pine trees on the hillside, that stand out in 
 bold relief on the glowing sky, makes the foreground to one 
 of the loveliest pictures this side of the Atlantic. I saw one 
 afternoon the Grand Duke and his family get into their 
 carriage to drive out. One of the little dukes, who seemed 
 a mischievous imp, ran out on a projection of the portico, 
 where considerable persuasion had to be used to induce him 
 to jump into the arms of his royal papa. I turned from 
 these titled infants to watch a group of beautiful American 
 children playing, for my attention was drawn to them by 
 the sound of familiar words, and I learned afterwards they 
 were the children of the sculptor Powers. I contrasted 
 involuntarily the destinies of each ; — one to the enjoyment 
 and proud energy of freedom, and one to the confining and 
 vitiating atmosphere of a court. The merry voices of the 
 latter, as they played on the grass, came to my ears most 
 gratefully. There is nothing so sweet as to hear one's 
 native tongue in a foreign land from the lips of children ! 
 
 16 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 A PILGRIMAGE TO VALLOMBROSA, 
 
 A Pilgrimage to Vallombrosa— The Valley of the Arno — Eain — Tuscan Peasants — 
 Pellago — Associations — Climbing the Mo antain — Pastoral Scenery — Monastic 
 Wealth — Arrival at Yallombrosa — An Italian Panorama— The Paradisino — An 
 Escape from the Devil — A Capture by the Devil — The Chapel — Milton in Italy — 
 Departure from Vallombrosa— Evening on the Mountain Side — The Charms of 
 Italy. 
 
 A PILGRIMAGE to Vallombrosa ! — in sooth it has a romantic 
 sound. The phrase calls up images of rosaries, and crosses, 
 and shaven-lieaded friars. Had we lived in the olden days, 
 such things might verily have accompanied our journey to 
 that holy monastery. We might then have gone barefoot, 
 saying prayers as we toiled along the banks of the Arno 
 and up the steep Appenines, as did Benvenuto Cellini, be- 
 fore he poured the melted bronze into the mould of his 
 immortal Perseus. But we are pilgrims to the shrines of 
 Art and Genius ; the dwelling-places of great minds are our 
 sanctuaries. The mean dwelling, in which a poet has bat- 
 tled down poverty with the ecstasy of his lofty conceptions, 
 and the dungeon in which a persecuted philosopher has 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE ARNO. 363 
 
 languislied, are to us sacred ; we turn aside from tlie palaces 
 of kings and the battle-fields of conquerors, to visit them. 
 The famed miracles of San Giovanni Gualberto added little, 
 in our eyes, to the interest of Yallombrosa, but there was 
 reverence and inspiration in the names of Dante, Milton, and 
 Ariosto. 
 
 We left Florence early, taking the way that leads from 
 the Porta della Croce, up the north bank of the Arno. It 
 was a bright morning, but there was a shade of vapor on the 
 hills, which a practised eye might have taken as a prognostic 
 of the rain that too soon came on. Fiesole, with its tower 
 and Acropolis, stood out brightly from the blue background, 
 and the hill of San Miniato lay with its cypress groves in 
 the softest morning light. The Contadini were driving into 
 the city in their basket wagons, and there were some fair 
 young faces among them, which made us think that Italian 
 beauty is not altogether in the imagination. 
 
 After walking three or four miles, we entered the Appe- 
 nines, keeping along the bank of the Arno, whose bed is 
 more than half dried up from the long summer heats. The 
 mountain sides were covered with vineyards, glowing with 
 their wealth of white and purple grapes, but the summits 
 were naked and barren. We passed through the little town 
 of Ponte Sieve, at the entrance of a romantic valley, where 
 our view of the Arno was made more interesting by the 
 lofty range of the Appenines, amid whose forests we could 
 see the white front of the monastery of Vallombrosa. But 
 the clouds sank low and hid it from sight, and the rain came 
 on so hard that we were obliged to take shelter occasionally 
 in the cottages by the wayside. In one of these we made 
 
364 VIEWS A-FOOT, 
 
 a dinner of tlie liard, black bread of tlie country, rendered 
 palatable by the addition of mountain cheese and some chips 
 of an antique Bologna sausage. We were much amused in 
 conversing with the simple hosts and their shy, gipsy -like 
 children, one of whom, a dark-eyed, curly -haired boy, bore 
 the name of Eaphael. We also became acquainted with a 
 shoemaker and his family, who owned a little olive orchard 
 and vineyard, which they said produced enough to support 
 them. Wishing to know how much a family of six consum- 
 ed in a year, we inquired the yield of their property. They 
 answered, twenty small barrels of wine, and ten of oil. It 
 was nearly sunset when we reached Pellago, and the wet 
 walk and coarse fare we were obliged to take on the road, 
 well qualified us to enjoy the excellent supper the pleasant 
 landlady gave ns. 
 
 This little town is among the Appenines, at the foot of the 
 magnificent mountain of Yallombrosa. What a blessing it 
 was for Milton, that he saw its loveliness before his eyes 
 closed on this beautiful earth, and gained from it another hue 
 in which to dip his pencil, when he painted the bliss of 
 Eden ! I watched the hills all day as we approached them, 
 and thought how often his eyes had rested on their out- 
 lines, and how he had carried their forms in his memory for 
 many a sunless year. The banished Dante, too, had trod- 
 den them, flying from his ungrateful country ; and many 
 another, whose genius has made him a beacon in the dark 
 sea of the world's history. It is one of those places where 
 the enjoyment is all romance, and the blood thrills as we 
 gaze upon it. 
 
 We started early next morning, crossed the ravine, and 
 
PASTORAL SCENERY. 3bo 
 
 took tlie well-paved way to tlie monastery along tlie moun- 
 tain side. The stones are worn smooth by the sleds in 
 which ladies and provisions are conveyed up, drawn by the 
 beautiful white Tuscan oxen. The hills are covered with 
 luxuriant chestnut and oak trees, of those picturesque forms 
 which they only wear in Italy: one wild dell in particular 
 IS much resorted to by painters for the ready-made fore- 
 grounds it supplies. Further on, we passed the Puterno, 
 a rich farm belonging to the Monks. The vines which hung 
 from tree to tree, were almost breaking beneath clusters as 
 heavy and rich as those which the children of Israel bore 
 on staves from the Promised Land. Of their flavor, we can 
 say, from experience, they were worthy to have grown in 
 Paradise. We then entered a deep dell of the mountain, 
 where little shepherd girls were sitting on the rocks tending 
 their sheep and spinning with their fingers from a distafi", in 
 the same manner, doubtless, as the Homan shepherdesses 
 two thousand years ago. Gnarled, gray olive trees, centu- 
 ries old, grew upon the bare soil, and a little rill fell in many 
 a tiny cataract down the glen. By a mill, in one of the 
 coolest and wildest nooks I ever saw, two of us acted the 
 part of water-sprites under one of these, to the great 
 astonishment of four peasants who watched us from a dis- 
 tance. 
 
 Beyond, our road led through forests of chestnut and oak, 
 and a broad view of mountain and vale lay below us. We 
 asked a peasant boy we met, how much land the Monks of 
 Vallombrosa possessed. " All that you see !" was the re- 
 ply. The dominion of the good fathers reached once even 
 to the gates of Florence. At length, about noon, we emerged 
 
366 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 from the woods into a broad avenue leading across a lawn, 
 at the extremity of which stood the massive buildings of 
 the monastery. On a rock that towered above it, was 
 the Paradisino, beyond which. rose the mountain, covered 
 with forests — 
 
 " Shade above Bhade, a woody theatre 
 Of stateliest view." 
 
 "We were met at the entrance by a young monk in cowl 
 and cassock, to whom we applied for permission to stay until 
 the next day, which was immediately given. Brother Pla- 
 cido (for that was his name) then asked us if we would not 
 have dinner. We replied that our appetites were none the 
 worse for climbing the mountain ; and in half an hour sat 
 down to a dinner, the like of which we had not seen for a 
 long time. Verily, thought I, it must be a pleasant thing to 
 be a monk, after all ! — that is, a monk of Vallombrosa. 
 
 In the afternoon we walked through a grand pine forest 
 to the western brow of the mountain, where a view opened 
 which it would req[uire a wonderful power of the imagina- 
 tion for the reader to see in fancy, as I did in reality. From 
 the height where we stood, the view was uninterrupted to 
 the Mediterranean, a distance of more than seventy miles ; 
 a valley watered by a branch of the Arno swept far to the 
 east, to the mountains near the lake of Thrasyraene ; north- 
 westwards the hills of Carrara bordered the horizon ; and 
 the space between these wide points was filled with moun- 
 tains and valleys, all steeped in that soft blue mist which 
 makes Italian landscapes more like heavenly visions than 
 realities. Florence was visible afar off, and the current of 
 
AN ESCAPE FROM THE DEVIL. 367 
 
 the Arno flashed in the sun. A cool and almost chilling 
 wind bleY>^ constantly over the mountain, although the 
 country below basked in summer heat. We lay on the 
 rocks, and let our souls luxuriate in the lovely scene until 
 near sunset. Brother Placido brought us supper in the 
 evening, with his ever-smiling countenance, and we soon 
 after went to our beds in the neat, plain chambers, to get 
 rid of the unpleasant coldness. 
 
 Next morning it was damp and misty, and thick clouds 
 rolled down the forests towards the convent. I set out for 
 the "Little Paradise," taking in my way the pretty cascade 
 which falls some fifty feet down the rocks. The building is 
 not now as it was when Milton lived there, having been 
 rebuilt within a short time. I found no one there, and 
 satisfied my curiosity by climbing over the wall and looking 
 in at the windows. A little chapel stands in the cleft of the 
 rock below, to mark the miraculous escape of St. John 
 Gualberto, founder of the monastery. Being one day very 
 closely pursued by the Devil, he took shelter under the 
 rock, which immediately became soft and admitted him into 
 it, while the fiend, unable to stop, was precipitated over the 
 steep. All this is related in a Latin inscription, and we saw 
 a large hollow in the rock near, which must have been 
 intended for the imprint left by his sacred person. 
 
 One of the monks told us another legend, concerning a 
 little chapel which stands alone on a wild part of the 
 mountain, above a rough pile of crags, called the " Peak of 
 the Devil." " In the time of San Giovanni Gualberto, the 
 holy founder of our order," said he, " there was a young 
 man, of a noble family in Florence, who was so moved by 
 
368 , VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 the words of tlie saintly father, that he forsook the world, 
 wherein he had lived with great luxury and dissipation, and 
 became monk. But, after a time, being young and tempted 
 again by the pleasures he had renounced, he put off the 
 sacred garments. The holy San Giovanni warned him of 
 the terrible danger in which he stood ; and at length the 
 wicked young man returned. It was not a great while, 
 however, before he became dissatisfied, and in spite of all 
 holy counsel, did the same thing. But behold what hap- 
 pened ! As he was walking along the peak where the 
 chapel stands, thinking nothing of his great crime, the devil 
 sprang suddenly from behind a rock, and catching the young 
 man in his arms, before he could escape, carried him with a 
 dreadful noise and a great red flame and smoke over the 
 precipice, so that he was never afterwards seen." 
 
 The church attached to the monastery is small, but very 
 solemn and venerable. I went several times to muse in its 
 still, gloomy aisle, and hear the murmuring chant of the 
 monks, who went through their exercises in some of the 
 chapels. At one time I saw them all, in long, black cas- 
 socks, march in solemn order to .the chapel of St. John 
 Gualberto, where they sang a deep chant, which to me had 
 something awful and sepulchral in it. Behind the high altar 
 I saw their black, carved chairs of polished oak, with pon- 
 derous gilded foliants lying on the rails before them. The 
 attendant opened one of these, that we might see the manu- 
 script notes, three or four centuries old, from which they sang. 
 
 We were much amused im looking through two or three 
 Italian books, which were lying in the travellers' room. One 
 of these which our friend, Mr. Tandy, read, described the 
 
MILTON IN ITALY. 369 
 
 miracles of tlie patron saint witli an air of the most ridicu- 
 lous solemnity. The other was a description of the Monas- 
 tery, its foundation, history, etc. In mentioning its great 
 and far-spread renown, the author stated that even an Eng- 
 lish poet, by the name of Milton, had mentioned it in the 
 following lines, which I copied verbatim from the book : 
 
 "Thick as autumnal scaves that strow she brooks 
 In vallombrosa, whereth Etruian Jades 
 Stigh over orch d'embrover !" 
 
 We were so delighted with the place that we would have 
 stayed another day, but for fear of trespassing too much on 
 the lavish and unceasing hospitality of the good fathers. So 
 in the afternoon we shook hands Avith Brother Placido, and 
 turned our backs regretfully upon one of the loneliest and 
 loveliest spots of which earth can boast. The sky became 
 gradually clear as we descended, and the mist raised itself 
 from the distant mountains. We ran down through the 
 same chestnut groves, diverging a little to visit the village of 
 . Tosi, which is very picturesque when seen from a distance.-^but 
 extremely dirty to one passing through. I stopped in the 
 ravine below to take a sketch of the mill and bridge, and- as 
 we sat, the line of golden sunlight rose higher on the moun- 
 tains above. On walking down the shady side of this glen, 
 we were enraptured with the scenery. A brilliant yet mel- 
 low glow lay over the whole opposing height, lighting up 
 the houses of Tosi and the white cottages, half seen among 
 the olives, while the mountain of Vallombrosa stretched far 
 heavenward like a sunny painting, with only a misty wreath 
 floating and waving around its summit. The glossy foliage 
 of the chestnuts was made still brighter by the warm light, 
 16* 
 
3*70 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 and the old olives softened down into a silvery gray, whose 
 contrast gave the landscape a character of the mellowest 
 beauty. As we wound out of the deep glen, the broad val- 
 leys and ranges of the Appenines lay before us, forests, cas- 
 tles, and villages steeped in the soft, vapory blue of the Ita- 
 lian atmosphere, and the current of the Arno flashing like a 
 golden belt through the middle of the picture. 
 
 The sun was nearly down, and the mountains just below 
 him were of a deep purple hue, while those that ran out to 
 the eastward wore the most aerial shade of blue. A few 
 scattered clouds, floating above, soon put on the sunset robe 
 of orange, and a band of the same soft color encircled the 
 western horizon. It did not reach half way to the zenith, 
 however ; the sky above was blue, of such a depth and 
 transparency, that to gaze above was like looking into 
 eternity. Then how softly and soothingly the twilight came 
 on ! How deep a hush sank on the chestnut glades, broken 
 only by the song of the cicada, chirping its good-night carol ! 
 The mountains, too, how majestic they stood in their deep 
 purple outlines ! Sweet, sweet Italy ! I can feel now how 
 the soul may cling to thee, since thou canst thus gratify its 
 insatiable thirst for the Beautiful. Even thy plainest scene 
 is clothed in hues that seem borrowed of heaven ! In the 
 twilight, more radiant than light, and the stillness, more elo- 
 quent than music, which sink down over the sunny beauty 
 of thy shores, there is a silent, intense poetry that stirs the 
 soul through all its impassioned depths. With warm, bliss- 
 ful tears filling the eyes and a heart overflowing with its 
 own happy fancies, I wander in the solitude and calm of 
 such a time, and love thee as if I were a child of thy soil ! 
 
CHAPTER XXXV, 
 
 TLORENCE — EXCURSIONS AND INCIDENTS. 
 
 A Walk to Siena— The Landlady— The Inn at Querciola— Siena and its Cathedral- 
 Parting from F The Grapes of Italy— The Dome of the Duomo— Climbing 
 
 In the Dark— A Cathedral Scene— "Walk to Pratolino— The Vintage— The Colossus 
 of the Appenines— The Grand Duke's Farm— Degeneracy of the Modern Italians— 
 The Joy of Travel— The Eaces at the Cascine— The Holy Places of Florence— The 
 Anatomical Museum — American Artists in Florence — Progress of American Art — 
 Brown-Kellogg— Greenough— Ives— Mozier— Powers— The Statue of Eve— The 
 Fisher Boy— Ibraham Pasha in Florence— Tuscan Winter— Galileo's Tower— Our 
 Financial Experiences — Relief— The Memory of Pleasure and Privation — An Inci- 
 dent — Boat Voyage on the Arno — Amateur Starvation — The Ascent of Monta 
 Morello— The Chapel of the Medici— A Farewell Meditation. 
 
 Florence, October 22, 1846. 
 Towards tlie end of September, my cousin, who was 
 anxious to reach Heidelberg before the commencement of 
 the winter term of the University, left Florence on foot for 
 Rome, whence he intended returning to Genoa by way of 
 Civita Vecchia. We accompanied him as far as Siena, forty 
 miles from here, and then returned to our old quarters and 
 the company of our friend, Mr. Tandy. The excursion was 
 very pleasant, and the more interesting because B and 
 
372 VIEWS A-rooT. 
 
 I intend taking tlie mountain road to Rome by way of • 
 Perugia. 
 
 We dined the first day seventeen miles from Florence, at 
 Tavenella, where, for a meagre dinner, the hostess had the 
 assurance to ask us seven pauls. We told her we would 
 give but four and a half, and by assuming a decided manner, 
 with a respectful use of the word " Signoraj'* she was per- 
 suaded to be fully satisfied with the latter sum. From a 
 height near, we could see the mountains coasting the Medi- 
 terranean, and shortly after, on descending a long hill, the 
 little town of Poggibonsi lay in the warm afternoon light, on 
 an eminence before us. It was soon passed with its dusky 
 towers, then Stagia looking desolate in its ruined and ivied 
 walls, and following the advice of a peasant, we stopped for 
 the night at the inn of Querciola. As we knew something 
 of Italian by this time, we thought it best to inquire the price 
 of lodging, before entering. The padrone asked if we meant 
 to take supper also. We answered in the affirmative ; "then," 
 said he, " you will pay half a paul (about five cents) apiece 
 for a bed." We passed under the swinging bunch of boughs, 
 which in Italy is the universal sign of an inn for the common 
 people, and entered the bare, smoky room appropriated to 
 travellers. A long table, with well-worn benches, was the 
 only furniture ; we threw our knapsacks on one end of it 
 and sat down, amusing ourselves, while supper was preparing, 
 in looking at a number of grotesque charcoal drawings on 
 the wall, which the flaring light of our tall iron lamp reveal- 
 ed to us. At length the hostess, a kindly-looking woman, 
 with a white handkerchief folded gracefully around her head, 
 brought us a dish of fried eggs, which, with the coarse black 
 
SIENA AND ITS CATHEDRAL, ~ 373 
 
 bread of the peasants and a basket full of rich grapes, made 
 us an excellent supper. We slept on mattresses stuffed with 
 corn-husks, placed on square iron frames, which are the bed- 
 steads most used in Italy. A brightly -painted caricature of 
 some saint, or rough crucifix, trimmed with bay-leaves, hung 
 at the head of each bed, and under their devout protection 
 we enjoyed a safe and unbroken slumber. 
 
 Next morning we set out early to complete the remaining 
 ten miles to Siena. The only thing of interest on the road, 
 is the ruined wall and battlements of Castiglione, circling a 
 high hill and looking as old as the days of Etruria. The 
 towers of Siena are seen at some distance, but the traveller . 
 does not perceive its romantic situation until he arrives. It 
 stands on a double hill, which is very steep on some sides ; 
 the hollow between the two peaks is occupied by the great 
 public square, ten or fifteen feet lower than the rest of the 
 city. We left our knapsacks at a cafe and sought the cele- 
 brated Cathedral, which stands in the highest part of the 
 town, forming with its flat dome and lofty marble tower, an 
 apex to the pyramidal mass of buildings. 
 
 The interior is rich and elegantly perfect. The walls are 
 alternate bands of black and white marble, which has a sin- 
 gular but agreeable effect. The inside of the dome and the 
 vaulted ceilings of the chapels, are of blue, with golden 
 stars ; the pavement in the centre is so precious a work that 
 it is kept covered with boards and only shown once a year. 
 In an adjoining chamber, with frescoed walls and a beautiful 
 tesselated pavement, is the library, consisting of a few huge 
 old volumes, which, with their brown covers and brazen 
 clasps, look as much like a collection of flat leather trunks 
 
374 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 as any thing else. In the centre of the room stands the 
 mutilated group of the Grecian Graces, found in digging the 
 foundation of the Cathedral. The figures are still beautiful 
 and graceful, with that exquisite curve of outline which is such 
 a charm in the antique statues. Oanova has only perfected 
 the idea in his celebrated group, which is nearly a copy of 
 this. 
 
 We strolled through the square and then accompanied 
 
 F to the E,oman gate, where we took leave of him for 
 
 six months at least. He felt lonely at the thought of walking 
 in Italy without a companion, but was cheered by the antici- 
 pation of soon reaching Rome. We watched him awhile, 
 walking rapidly over the hot plain towards Eadicofani, and 
 then, turning our faces towards Florence, we commenced 
 the return walk. I must not forget to mention the delicious 
 grapes which we bought, begged and stole on the way. 
 The whole country is a vineyard — and the people live, in a 
 great measure, on the fruit during this part of the year. 
 Would the reader not think it highly romantic and agreeable 
 to sit in the shade of a cypress grove, beside some old 
 weather-beaten statues, looking out over the vales of the 
 Appenines, with a pile of white and purple grapes beside 
 him, the like of which can scarcely be had in America for 
 love or money, and which had been given him by a dark- 
 eyed peasant girl? If so, he may envy us, for such was 
 exactly our situation on the morning before reaching Flo- 
 rence. 
 
 Being in the Duomo, two or three days ago, I met- a Ger- 
 man traveller, who has walked through Italy thus far, and 
 intends continuing his journey to Rome ^d Naples. His 
 
TEE DOME OF THE DUOMO. 375 
 
 name was Yon E,aumer. He was well acquainted with the 
 present state of America, and I derived much pleasure from 
 his intelligent conversation. "We concluded to ascend the 
 cupola in company. Two black-robed boys led the way ; 
 after climbing an infinite number of steps, we reached the 
 gallery around the foot of the dome. The glorious view of 
 that paradise, the vale of the Arno, shut in on all sides by 
 mountains, some bare and desolate, some covered with villas, 
 gardens, and groves, lay in soft, hazy light, with the sha- 
 dows of scattered clouds moving slowly across it. They 
 next took us to a gallery on the inside of the dome, where 
 we first saw the immensity of its structure. Only from a 
 distant view, or in ascending it, can one really measure its 
 grandeur. The frescoes, which from below appear the size 
 of life, are found to be rough and monstrous daubs ; each 
 figure being nearly as many fathoms in length as man is 
 feet. Continuing our ascent, we mounted between the in- 
 side and outside shells of the dome. It was indeed a bold 
 idea for Brunelleschi to raise such a mass in air. The dome 
 of St. Peter's, which is scarcely as large, was not made 
 until a century after, and this was, therefore, the first attempt 
 at raising one on so grand a scale. 
 
 There was a small door in one of the projections of the 
 lantern, which the sacristan told us to enter and ascend still 
 higher. Supposing there was a fine view to be gained, two 
 priests, who had just come up, entered it ; the German fol- 
 lowed, and I after him. After crawling in at the low door, 
 we found ourselves in a hollow pillar, little wider than our 
 bodies. Looking up, I saw the German's legs just above 
 my head, while the other two were above him, ascending by 
 
ol6 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 means of little iron bars fastened in the marble. The priests 
 were very much amused, and the German said : — " This is 
 the first time I ever learned chimney-sweeping !" We 
 emerged at length into a hollow cone, hot and dark, with a 
 rickety ladder going up somewhere ; we could not see where. 
 The old priest not wishing to trust himself to it, sent his 
 younger brother up, and we shouted after him : — " What 
 kind of a view have you ?" He climbed up until the cone 
 got so narrow that he could go no further, and answered 
 back in the darkness : — " I see nothing at all !" Shortly 
 after he came down, covered with dust and cobwebs, and we 
 all descended the chimney quicker than we went up. The 
 old priest considered it a good joke, and laughed till his fat 
 sides shook. . We asked the sacristan why he sent us up, 
 and he answered : — " To see the construction of the Church !" 
 I attended service in the Cathedral one dark, rainy morn- 
 ing? and was never before so deeply impressed with the 
 majesty and grandeur of the mighty edifice. The thick, 
 cloudy atmosphere darkened still more the light which came 
 through the stained windows, and a solemn twilight reigned 
 in the long aisles. The mighty dome sprang far aloft, as if 
 it inclosed a part of heaven, for the light that struggled 
 through the windows around its base, lay in broad bars on 
 the blue, hazy air. I should not have been surprised at 
 seeing a cloud float along within it. The lofty burst of the 
 organ boomed echoing away through dome and nave, with 
 a chiming, metallic vibration, shaking the massive pillars 
 which it would defy an earthquake to rend. All was wrap- 
 ped in dusky obscurity, except where, in the side-chapels, 
 crowns of tapers were burning around the images. One 
 
THE COLOSSUS OF THE APPENINES. 377 
 
 knows not wliich most to admire, the genius wliich could 
 conceive, or the perseverance which could accomplish such 
 a work. On one side of the square, the colossal statue of 
 the architect, glorious old Brunelleschi, is most appropriately 
 placed, looking up with pride at his performance. 
 
 We lately made an excursion to Pratolino, on the Appe- 
 nines, to see the vintage and the celebrated colossus, by 
 John of Bologna. Leaving Florence in the morning, with 
 a cool, fresh wind blowing down from the mountains, we 
 began ascending by the road to Bologna, We passed Fiesole 
 with its tower and acropolis on the right, ascending slowly, 
 with the bold peak of one of the loftiest Appenines on our 
 left. The abundant fruit of the olive was beginning to turn 
 brown, and the grapes were all gathered in from the vine- 
 yards, but we learned from a peasant-boy that the vintage 
 was not finished at Pratolino, 
 
 We finally arrived at an avenue shaded with sycamore?, 
 leading to the royal park. The vintagers were busy in the 
 fields around, unloading the vines of their purple tribute, 
 and many a laugh and jest among the merry peasants en- 
 livened the toil. We assisted them in disposing of some fine 
 clusters, and then sought the " Colossus of the Appenines." 
 He stands above a little lake, at the head of a long moun- 
 tain-slope, broken with clumps of magnificent trees. This 
 remarkable figure, the work of John of Bologna, impresses 
 one like a relic of the Titans. He is represented as half- 
 kneeling, supporting himself with one hand, while the other 
 is pressed upon the head of a dolphin, from which a little 
 stream falls into the lake. The height of the figure, when 
 erect, would amount to more than sixty feet ! We measured 
 
3*78 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 one of the feet, whicli is a single piece of rock, about eight feet 
 long ; from the ground to the top of one knee is nearly twenty- 
 feet. The limbs are formed of pieces of stone, joined toge- 
 ther, and the body of stone and brick. His rough hair and 
 eyebrows, and the beard, which reaches nearly to the ground, 
 are formed of stalactites, taken from caves, and fastened 
 together in a dripping and crusted mass. These hung also 
 from his limbs and body, and gave him the appearance of 
 Winter in his mail of icicles. By climbing up the rocks at 
 his back, we entered his body, which contains a small-sized 
 room ; it was even possible to ascend through his neck and 
 look out at his ear ! The face is in keeping with the figure 
 — stern and grand, and the architect (one can hardly say 
 sculptor) has given to it the majestic air and sublimity of 
 the Appenines. But who could build up an image of the Alp 1 
 We visited the factory on the estate, where wine and oil 
 are made. The men had just brought in a cart-load of large 
 wooden vessels, filled with grapes, which they were mashing 
 with heavy wooden pestles. When the grapes were pretty 
 well reduced to pulp and juice, they emptied them into an 
 enormous tun, which they told us would be covered air-tight, 
 and left for three or four weeks, after which the wine would 
 be drawn off at the bottom. They showed us also a great 
 stone mill for grinding olives ; this estate of the Grand 
 Duke produces five hundred barrels of wine and a hundred 
 and fifty of oil, every year. The former article is the 
 universal beverage of the laboring classes in Italy, or I 
 might say, of all classes ; it is, however, the pure blood of 
 the grape, and although used in such quantities, one sees 
 little drunkenness — ^far less than in our own land. 
 
ITALIAN MORALS. 3Y9 
 
 Altliougli this sweet climate, with its wealtH of sunliglit 
 and balmy airs, may enchant the traveller for awhile and 
 make him wish at times that his whole life might be spent 
 amid such scenes, it exercises a most enervating influence on 
 those who are born to its enjoyment. It relaxes mental and 
 physical energy, and disposes body and mind to dreamy 
 inactivity. The Italians, as a race, are indolent and effemi- 
 nate. Of the moral dignity of human nature they have 
 little conception. Those classes who are engaged in active 
 occupation seem even destitute of common honesty, practis- 
 ing all kinds of deceits in the most open manner and appa- 
 rently without the least shame. The state of morals is low- 
 er than in any other country of Europe ; what little virtue 
 exists is found among the peasants. Many of the most 
 sacred obligations of society are universally violated, and as 
 a natural consequence, the people are almost entire strangers 
 to that domestic happiness, which constitutes the true enjoy- 
 ment of life. 
 
 This dark shadow in the moral atmosphere of Italy bangs 
 like a curse on her beautiful soil, weakening the sympathies 
 of citizens of freer lands with her fallen condition. No 
 people can ever become truly great or free, who are not 
 virtuous. If the soul aspires for liberty — pure and perfect 
 liberty — it also aspires for everything that is noble in Truth, 
 everything that is holy in Virtue. It is greatly to be feared 
 that all those nervous and impatient efforts which have* beer, 
 made and are still being made by the Italian people to bet- 
 ter their condition, will be of little avail, until they set up a 
 better standard of personal principle and improve the cha- 
 racter of their lives. 
 
380 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 I attended to-day tlie fall races at tlie Cascine. Thie is a 
 dairy farm of the Grand Duke on the Arno, below the city ; 
 part of it, shaded with magnificent trees, has been made into 
 a public promenade and drive, which extends for three miles 
 down the river. Towards the lower end, on a smooth green 
 lawn, is the race-course. To-day was the last of the season, 
 for which the best trials had been reserved. It was the very 
 perfection of autumn temperature, and I do not remember 
 to have ever seen so blue hills, so green meadows, so fresh 
 air and so bright sunshine combined in one scene before. 
 Travelling increases very much one's capacity for admira- 
 tion. Every beautiful scene appears as beautiful as if it had 
 been the first ; and although I may have seen a hundred 
 times as lovely a combination of sky and landscape, the 
 pleasure which it awakens is never diminished. This is one 
 of the greatest blessings we enjoy — the freshness and glory 
 which Nature wears to our eyes for ever. It shows that the 
 soul never grows old — that the eye of age can take in the 
 impression of beauty with the same enthusiastic joy which 
 leaped through the heart of childhood. 
 
 We found the crowd around the race-course but thin ; 
 half the people there, and all the horses, appeared to be 
 English. It was a good place to observe the beauty of 
 Florence, which, however, may be seen in a short time, as 
 there is not much of it. There is beauty in. Italy, undoubt- 
 edly, but it is either among the peasants or the higher ranks 
 of the nobility. I will tell our American women confiden- 
 tially, for I know they have too much sense to be vain of it, 
 that they surpass the rest of the world as much in beauty as 
 they do in intelligence and virtue. I saw in one of tha 
 
RACES AT THE CASCINE. 381 
 
 carriages the wife of Alexander Dumas, the Frencli author. 
 She is a large, fair-complexioned woman, and is now, from 
 what cause I know not, living apart from her husband. 
 
 The jockeys paced up and down the fields, preparing their 
 beautiful animals for the approaching heat, and as the hour 
 drew nigh the mounted dragoons busied themselves in clear- 
 ing the space. It was a one-mile course, to the end of the 
 lawn and back. At last the bugle sounded, and off went 
 three steeds like arrows let fly. They passed us, their light 
 limbs bounding over the turf, a beautiful dark-brown taking 
 the lead. We leaned over the railing and watched them 
 eagerly. The bell rang — they reached the other end — we 
 saw them turn and come dashing back, nearer, nearer ; the 
 crowd began to shout, and in a few seconds the brown one 
 had won it by four or five lengths. The fortunate horse was 
 led around in triumph, and I saw an English lady, remark- 
 able for her betting propensities, come out from the crowd 
 and kiss it in apparent delight. 
 
 Florence is fast becoming modernized. The introduction 
 of gas, and the construction of the railroad to Pisa, which is 
 nearly completed, will make sad havoc with the air of poe- 
 try which still lingers in its silent streets. There is scarcely 
 a bridge, a tower, or a street, which is not haunted by some 
 stirring association. In the Via San Felice, Raphael used 
 to paint when a boy ; near the Ponte Santa Trinita stands 
 Michael Angelo's house, with his pictures, clothes, and paint- 
 ing implements, just as he left it three centuries ago ; on the 
 south side of the Arno is the house of Galileo, and that of 
 Machiavelli stands in an avenue near the Ducal Palace. While 
 threading my way through some dark, crooked streets iu 
 
382 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 an unfrequented part of the citj, I noticed an old untenant- 
 ed house, bearing a marble tablet above the door. I drew 
 near and read : — " In this house of the Alighieri was born 
 the Divine Poet !" It was the birth-place of Dante ! 
 
 We lately visited the Florentine Museum. Besides the 
 usual collection of objects of natural history, there is an 
 anatomical cabinet, very celebrated for its preparations in 
 wax. All parts of the human frame are represented so 
 wonderfully exact, that students of medicine pursue their 
 studies here in summer with the same facility as from real 
 subjects. Every bone, muscle, and nerve in the body is 
 perfectly counterfeited, the whole forming a collection as 
 curious as it is useful. One chamber is occupied with repre- 
 sentations of the plague in Rome, Milan, and Florence. 
 They are executed with horrible truth to nature, but I re- 
 gretted afterwards having seen them. There are enough 
 forms of beauty and delight in the world on which to em- 
 ploy the eye, without making it familiar with scenes which 
 can only be remembered with a shudder. 
 
 We derive much pleasure from the society of the Ameri- 
 can artists who are now residing in Florence. At the 
 houses of Powers, and Brown, the painter, we spend many 
 delightful evenings in the company of our gifted country- 
 men. They are drawn together by a kindred, social feeling, 
 as well as by their mutual aims, and form among themselves 
 a society so unrestrained, American-like, that the traveller 
 who meets them forgets his exile for a time. These no- 
 ble representatives of our country, all of whom possess the 
 true, inborn spirit of republicanism, have made the Ame- 
 rican name known and respected in Florence. Powers, 
 
AMERICAN ARTISTS IN FLORENCE. 383 
 
 especially, wlio is intimate with many of the principal Ita- 
 lian families, is universally esteemed. The Grand Duke has 
 more than once visited his studio and expressed the highest 
 admiration of his talents. 
 
 In Florence, and indeed through all Italy, there is much 
 reason for our country to be proud of the high stand her 
 artists are taking. The sons of our rude western clime, 
 brought up without other resources than their own genius 
 and energy, now fairly rival those, ,who from their cradle 
 upwards have drawn inspiration and ambition from the glo- 
 rious masterpieces of the old painters and sculptors. 
 Wherever our artists are known, they never fail to create a 
 respect for American talent, and to dissipate the false notions 
 respecting our cultivation and refinement, which prevail in 
 Europe. There are now eight or ten of our painters and 
 sculptors in Florence, some of whom, I do not hesitate to 
 say, take the very first rank among living artists. 
 
 I have been greatly delighted with the Italian landscapes 
 of Mr. George L. Brown ; they have that golden mellow- 
 ness and transparency of atmosphere which gives such a 
 charm to the real scenes. He has wooed Nature like a 
 lover, and she has not withheld her favors. Mr. Kellogg, who 
 has just returned from the Orient, brought with him a rich 
 harvest of studies, which he is now maturing on the canvas. 
 His sketches are of great interest and value, and their re- 
 sults will give him an enviable reputation. Greenough, who 
 has been some time in Germany, returned lately to his stu- 
 dio, where he has a colossal group in progress for the por- 
 tico of the Capitol. It represents a backwoodsman just 
 triumphing in the struggle with an Indian, and promises to 
 
3d4 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 be a very powerful and successful work. Mr. Ives, a young 
 sculptor from Connecticut, has just completed the clay 
 models of two works — a boy with a dead bird, charmingly 
 simple and natural, and a head of Jephthah's Daughter. 
 There are several other young countrymen here, just com- 
 mencing their studies, who show all that enthusiasm and 
 extravagance, without which there is no success in Art. 
 
 Mr. Mozier, an American gentleman, who has been resid- 
 ing here for some time with his family, recently took a piece 
 of clay for pastime, and to the astonishment of his friends, 
 has now nearly completed an admirable bust of his little 
 daughter. He has been so successful that he intends devot- 
 ing himself to the art — ^a devotion so rare, that it must surely 
 meet with some return. 
 
 Would it not be better for some scores of our rich mer- 
 chants to lay out their money on statues and pictures, 
 instead of balls and spendthrift sons ? A few such expendi- 
 tures, properly directed, would do much for the advancement 
 of the fine arts. An occasional golden blessing, bestowed 
 on genius, might be returned to the giver, in the fame he had 
 assisted in creating. There seems, however, to be at pre- 
 sent a rapid increase in refined taste, and a better apprecia- 
 tion of artistic talent in our country. And as an American, 
 nothing has made me feel prouder than this, and the steadi- 
 ly increasing reputation of our artists. 
 
 Of these, no one has done more within the last few years, 
 than Powers. "With a tireless and persevering energy, such 
 as could have belonged to few but Americans, he has alrea- 
 dy gained an imperishable name in his art. I cannot de- 
 scribe the enjoyment I have derived from looking at his 
 
THE " EVE OF POWERS. 885 
 
 matcliless works. I slioiild liesitate in giving my own im- 
 perfect judgment -of tlieir excellence, if I had not found it 
 to coincide with that of many others who are better versed 
 in the rules of art. "When I read a notice seven or eight 
 years ago, of the young sculptor of Cincinnati, whose busts 
 exhibited so much evidence of genius, I little dreamed that 
 I should meet him in Florence, with the experience of years 
 of toil added to his early enthusiasm, aqd every day increas- 
 ing his renown. 
 
 The statue of Eve is in my opinion one of the finest works 
 of modern times. So completely did the first view excite my 
 surprise and delight, and thrill every feeling that awakes at the 
 sight of the Beautiful, that my mind dwelt intensely on it for 
 days afterwards. This is the Eve of Scripture — the Eve of 
 Milton — mother of mankind and fairest of all her race. 
 With the full and majestic beauty of ripened womanhood, 
 she wears the purity of a world as yet unknown to sin. 
 With the bearing of a queen, there is in her countenance the 
 softness and grace of a tender, loving woman : 
 
 " God-like erect, with native honor clad 
 In naked majesty." 
 
 She holds the fatal fruit extended in her hand, and her face 
 expresses the struggle between conscience, dread, and desire. 
 The serpent, whose coiled length under the leaves and 
 flowers entirely surrounds her, thus forming a beautiful 
 allegorical symbol, is watching her decision from an ivied 
 trunk at her side. 
 
 Powers has now nearly finished an exquisite figure of a 
 fisher-boy, standing on the shore, with his net and rudder in 
 17 
 
386 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 one hand, wliile with the other he holds a shell to his ear, 
 and listens if it murmur to him of a gathering storm. His 
 slight, boyish limbs are full of grace and delicacy — you feel 
 that the youthful frame could grow up into nothing less than 
 an Apollo. Then the head — how beautiful ! Slightly bent 
 on one side, with the rim of the shell thrust under his locks, 
 lips gently parted, and the face wrought up to the most 
 hushed and breathless expression, he listens whether the 
 sound be deeper than its wont. It makes you hold your 
 breath and listen, to look at it. Mrs. Jameson somewhere 
 remarks, that repose or suspended motion should be always 
 chosen for a statue that shall present a perfect, unbroken 
 impression to the mind. If this be true, the enjoyment must 
 be much more complete where not only the motion, but 
 breath and thought are suspended, and all the faculties are 
 wrought into one hushed and intense sensation. In gazing 
 on this exquisite conception, I feel my admiration filled to 
 the utmost, without that painful, aching impression, so often 
 left by beautiful works. It glides into my vision like a form 
 long missed from the gallery of beauty I am forming in my 
 mind, and I gaze on it with an ever new and increasing 
 delight. 
 
 The other day I saw Ibrahim Pacha, the son of old Me- 
 hemet Ali, driving in his carriage through the streets. Pie 
 is here on a visit from Lucca, where he has been spending 
 some time on account of his health. He is a man of ap- 
 parently fifty years of age ; his countenance wears a stern 
 and almost savage look, very consistent with the character 
 he bears and the political part he has played. He is rather 
 portly in person, the pale olive of his complexion contrasting 
 
GALILEO S TOWER. 387 
 
 strongly with a beard perfectly wtite. In common with all 
 his attendants, he wears the high red cap, picturesque blue 
 jacket, and full trowsers of the Egyptians. There is 
 scarcely a man of them Avhose face with its wild, oriental 
 beauty, does not show to advantage among us civilized and 
 prosaic Christians. 
 
 December 19, 1S45. 
 
 I took a walk lately to the tower of Galileo. In company 
 with three friends, I left Florence by the Porta Romana, and 
 ascended the Poggie Impcr'ale. This beautiful avenue, a 
 mile and a quarter in length, leading up a gradual ascent to 
 a villa of the Grand Duke, is bordered with splendid 
 cypresses and evergreen oaks, and the grass banks are 
 always fresh and green, so that even in winter it calls up a 
 remembrance of summer. In fact. Winter does not wear the 
 scowl here that he has at home ; he is robed rather in a 
 threadbare garment of autumn, and it is only high up on the 
 mountain tops, out of the reach of his enemy, the sun, that 
 he dares to throw it ofP, and bluster about with his storms 
 and scatter down his snow-flakes. The roses still bud and 
 bloom in the hedges, the emerald of the meadows is not a 
 whit paler, the sun looks down lovingly as yet, and there 
 are only the white helmets of some of the Appenines, with 
 the leafless mulberries and vines, to tell us that we have 
 changed seasons. 
 
 A quarter of an hour's walk, part of it by a path through 
 an olive orchard, brought us to the top of a hill, which was 
 surmounted by a square, broken, ivied tower, forming part of 
 
VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 a storeliouse for tlie produce of tlie estate. "We entered, 
 saluted by a dog, and passing through a court-yard, in which 
 stood two or three carts full of brown olives, found our way 
 to the rickety staircase. I spared my sentiment in going 
 up, thinking the steps might have been renewed since Ga- 
 lileo's time, but the glorious landscape which opened around 
 us when we reached the top, time could not change, and I 
 gazed upon it with interest and emotion, as my eye took in 
 those forms which had once been mirrored in the philosopher's. 
 Our Tuscan life is at last at an end. After a residence of 
 nearly four months, we shall take leave of beautiful Florence 
 to-morrow. Our departure has been somewhat delayed by 
 the necessity of waiting for remittances from home. By the 
 first of November, our means were entirely exhausted, but 
 our friend, Mr. Tandy, generously shared his purse with us 
 until the long-expected letters arrived. Finally, I received 
 a draft for one hundred dollars,. sixty of which were due to 
 Mr. T., who, in his turn, was beginning to look anxiously 
 for remittances, and had stinted himself for our sakes. 
 
 B- was out of money, and does not expect to get any 
 
 more until we reach Paris, so that we had only forty dollars 
 between us, for the journey to E,ome and thence to Paris. 
 We had already pushed economy to its furthest point, and 
 it was evident that the thing was impossible. But it was 
 equally impossible to give up our plan^of travel. I finally 
 went to Mr. Powers, who has treated me with the greatest 
 kindness and hospitality during our residence here, and 
 asked him to lend me fifty dollars for two or three months. 
 He complied with a readiness and cordiality which was most 
 grateful, and relieved me of the painful embarrassment 
 
AN AMUSING EXPERIENCE. 389 
 
 whicli I could not help feeling. We have now ninety 
 dollars, which we are confident will carry us through. But 
 Greece — Greece is lost to us ! Oh for a hundred dollars, 
 that I might see the Parthenon before I die ! 
 
 My residence in Florence has been thoroughly happy and 
 delightful, and I leave it with sincere regret. These priva- 
 tions, and anxieties, and embarrassments, are forgotten the 
 moment they are over, while the memory of pleasure re- 
 mains as distinct as the reality. I know I shall hereafter 
 find even a delight in thinking of the hardest of my 
 experiences ; one of them is already sufficiently amusing, 
 and may amuse the reader also. Mr. Tandy, as I said, 
 shared his own means Avith us, after our own had failed, 
 until what he had in Florence was nearly exhausted. His 
 banker lived in Leghorn, and he determined to go there and 
 draw for more, instead of having it sent through a corres- 
 pondent. B decided to accompany him, and two young 
 
 Englishmen, who had just arrived on foot from Geneva, 
 joined the party. They resolved on making an adventure 
 out of the expedition, and it was accordingly agreed that 
 they should take one of the market-boats of the Arno, and 
 sail down to Pisa, more than fifty miles distant, by the 
 river. We paid one or two visits^ to the Avestern gate of the 
 city, where numbers of these craft always lie at anchor, and 
 struck a bargain with a sturdy boatman, that he should take 
 them for a scudo each. 
 
 The hour of starting was nine o'clock in the evening, and 
 I accompanied them to the starting-place. The boat had a 
 slight canvas covering, and the crew consisted only of the 
 owner and his son Antonio, a boy of ten. I shall not recount 
 
390 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 their voyage all that night (which was so cold, that they tied 
 each other up in the boatmen's meal-bags, around the neck, 
 and lay down in a heap on the ribbed bottom of the boat), 
 nor their adventures in Pisa and Leghorn. They were to be 
 absent three or four days, and had left me money enough to 
 live upon in the meantime, but the next morning our bill for 
 washing came in, and consumed nearly the whole of it. I 
 had about four crazie (three cents) a day left for my meals, 
 and by spending one of these for bread, and the remainder 
 for ripe figs, of which one crazie Avill purchase fifteen or 
 twenty, and roasted chestnuts, I managed to make a diminu- 
 tive breakfast and dinner, but was careful not to take much 
 exercise, on account of the increase of hunger. As it hap- 
 pened, my friends remained two days longer than I had ex- 
 pected, and the last two crazie I had were expended for one 
 day's provisions. I then decided to try the next day with- 
 out anything, and actually felt a curiosity to know what 
 one's sensations would be, on experiencing two or three days 
 of starvation. I knew that if the feeling should become insup- 
 portable, I could easily walk out to the mountain of Fiesole, 
 where a fine fig orchard shades the old E-oman amphitheatre. 
 But the experiment was broken off in its commencement, by 
 the arrival of the absent ones, in the middle of the following 
 night. Such is the weakness of human nature, that on find- 
 ing I should not want for breakfast, I arose from bed, and 
 ate the two or three remaining figs which, by a strong exer- 
 tion, I had saved from the scanty allowance of the day. I 
 began to experience a powerful feeling of weakness and 
 vacuity, and my breakfast the next day — the most delicious 
 meal I ever ate — cost me at least ten cents 
 
ASCENT OF MONTE MORELLO. 391 
 
 Whoever looks on the valley of the Arno from San Miniato, 
 and observes the Appenine range, of which Fiesole is one, 
 bounding it on the north, will immediately notice to the 
 northwest a double peak rising high above all the others. 
 The bare, brown forehead of this, known bj the name of 
 Monte Morello, seemed so provokingly to challenge an 
 ascent, that we determined to try it. So we started early, 
 a few days ago, from the Porta San Gallo, with nothing but 
 the frosty grass and fresh air to remind us of the middle of 
 December. Leaving the Prato road, at the base of the 
 mountain, we passed Careggi, a favorite farm of Lorenzo the 
 Magnificent, and entered a narrow glen where a little brook 
 was brawling down its rocky channel. Here and there stood 
 a rustic mill, near which women were busy spreading their 
 washed clothes on the grass. Following the footpath, we 
 ascended a long eminence to a chapel where some boys were 
 amusing themselves with a common country game. They 
 have a small wheel, around which they wind a rope, and, 
 running a little distance to increase the velocity, let it off with 
 a sudden jerk. On a level road it can be thrown upwards of 
 a quarter of a mile. 
 
 From the chapel, a gradual ascent along the ridge of a 
 liill brought us to the foot of the peak, which rose high be- 
 fore us, covered with bare rocks and stunted oaks. The 
 wind blew coldly from a snowy range to the north, as we 
 commenced ascending with a good will. A few shepherds 
 were leading their flocks along the sides, to browse on the 
 grass and withered bushes, and we started up a large hare 
 occasionally from his leafy covert. The ascent was very 
 toilsome ; I was obliged to stop frequently on account of the 
 
^92 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 painful throbbing of my heart, which made it difficult to 
 breathe. When the summit was gained, we lay down awhile 
 on the leeward side to cover ourselves. 
 
 We looked on the great valley of the Arno, perhaps 
 twenty -five miles long, and five or six broad, lying like a 
 long elliptical basin sunk among the hills. I can liken it to 
 nothing but a vast sea ; for a dense, blue mist covered the 
 level surface, through which the domes of Florence rose up 
 like a craggy island, while the thousands of scattered villas 
 resembled ships, with spread sails, afloat on its surface. The 
 sharp, cutting wind soon drove us down, with a few hundred 
 bounds, to the path again. Three more hungry mortals did 
 not dine at the Cacciatore that day. 
 
 The chapel of the Medici, which we visited, is of wonder- 
 ful beauty. The walls are entirely encrusted with pietra 
 dura and the most precious kinds of marble. The ceiling is 
 covered with gorgeous frescoes by Benevenuto, a modern 
 painter. Around the sides, in magnificent sarcophagi of 
 marble and jasper, repose the ashes of a few Cosmos and 
 Ferdinands. I asked the sacristan for the tomb of Lorenzo 
 the Magnificent. " Oh !" said he, "he lived during the Ee- 
 public — he has no tomb; these are only for Dukes!" I 
 could not repress a sigh at the lavish waste of labor and 
 treasure on this one princely chapel. They might have 
 slumbered unnoted, like Lorenzo, if they had done as much 
 for their country and Italy. 
 
 It is with a heavy heart, that I sit down to-night to make 
 my closing note in this lovely city and in the journal which 
 
A FAREWELL MEDITATION. 393 
 
 has recorded my thoughts and impressions since leaving 
 America. I should find it difficult to analyse my emotions, 
 but I know that they oppress me painfully. So much rushes 
 at once over the mind and heart — memories of what has 
 passed through both, since I made the first note in its pages 
 — alternations of hope and anxiety and aspiration, but never 
 despondency — that it resembles, in a manner, the closing of a 
 life. I seem almost to have lived through the common term 
 of a life in this short period. Much spiritual and mental ex- 
 perience has crowded into a short time the sensations of 
 years. Painful though some of it has been, it was still wel- 
 come. Difficulty and toil give the soul strength to crush, in 
 a loftier region, the passions which draw strength only from 
 the earth. So long as we listen to the purer promptings 
 within us, there is a Power invisible, though not unfelt, which 
 protects us — amid the toil and tumult and soiling struggle, 
 there is ever an eye that watches, ever a heart that over- 
 flows with Infinite and Almighty Love ! Let us trust then 
 in that Eternal Spirit, who pours out on us his warm and 
 boundless blessings, through the channels of so many kin- 
 dred human hearts ! 
 
 17* 
 
CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 WINTER TRAVELLING AMONG THE APPENINES. 
 
 Departure from Florence — Eain among the Appenines— The Inn at Cucina— Talks 
 with the Tuscan Peasants — Central Italy — Arezzo— Italian Country Inns— Engaging 
 a Calesino— Lake Thrasymene — The Battle-field — Night-Ride to Perugia— Journey 
 to Foligno — Vale of the Clitumnus — Our Fellow Passengers— Spoleto and Monte 
 Somma— Terni without the Cascade— Narni — Otricoli — Travelling by Vetturino — 
 Soracte at Sunset — Walking with the Dragoon — The Campagna— First Sight of St. 
 Peter's — Entering Rome— The Pantheon by Starlight— The Dragoon's Adieu- 
 Rome. 
 
 Rome, December 28, 1845. 
 "We left Florence on tlie 20tli, while citizens and strangers 
 were vainly striving to catcli a glimpse of the Emperor of 
 Enssia. He is, from some cause, very shy of being seen, in 
 his journeys from place to place, using the greatest art and 
 diligence to prevent the time of his departure and arrival 
 from being known. I waited some time in front of his hotel 
 to see him drive out, and at that very time he was in the 
 Pitti Palace, with the Grand Duke. The sky did not pro- 
 mise much, as we set out ; and when we had entered the 
 Appenines and taken a last look at the lovely valley behind 
 us, and the great dome of the city where we had spent four 
 
THE INN AT CUCINA. 395 
 
 delightful months, it began to rain heavily. Determined to 
 conquer the weather at the beginning, we kept on, although 
 before many miles were passed, it became too penetrating 
 to be agreeable. The mountains grew nearly black under 
 the shadow of the clouds, and the storms swept drearily 
 down their passes and defiles, until the scenery was more like 
 the Hartz than Italy. We were obliged to stop at Ponte 
 Sieve and dry our saturated garments : when, as the rain 
 slackened somewhat, we rounded the foot of the mountain 
 of Vallombrosa, above the swollen and noisy Arno, to the 
 little village of Cucina. 
 
 We entered the only inn in the .place, followed by a crowd 
 of wondering boys, for two such travellers had probably 
 never been seen there. They made a blazing fire for us in 
 the broad chimney, and after the police of the place had satis- 
 fied themselves that we were not dangerous characters, they 
 asked many questions about our country. I excited the 
 sympathy of the women greatly in our behalf by telling 
 them we had three thousand miles of sea between us and 
 our homes. They exclaimed in the most sympathizing 
 tones : *' Poverini ! so far to go ! — three thousand miles of 
 water !" 
 
 The next morning we followed the right bank of the Arno. 
 At Incisa, a large town on the river, the narrow pass broad- 
 ens into a large and fertile plain, bordered on the north by 
 the mountains. The snow storms were sweeping around 
 their summits the whole day, and I thought of the desolate 
 situation of the good monks who had so hospitably enter- 
 tained us three months before. It was weary travelling ; but 
 at Levane our fatigues were soon forgotten. Two or three 
 
396 \IEVV3 A-rOOT. 
 
 peasants were sitting at niglit beside the blazing fire, and we 
 were amused to hear them talking about us. I overheard 
 one asking another to converse with us awhile. " Why 
 should I speak to them ?" said he ; " they are not of our 
 profession — we are swineherds, and they do not care to talk 
 with us." However, his curiosity prevailed at last, and we 
 had a long conversation together. It seemed difficult for 
 them to comprehend how there could be so much water to 
 cross, without any land, before reaching our country. Find- 
 ing we were going to Eome, I overheard one remark that 
 we were pilgrims, which seemed to be the general supposition, 
 as there are few foot-travellers in Italy. The people said to 
 one another as we passed along the road : — " They are 
 making a journey of penance !" These peasants expressed 
 themselves very well for persons of their station, but they 
 were remarkably ignorant of every thing beyond their own 
 olive orchards and vine fields. 
 
 On leaving Levane, the morning gave a promise, and the 
 sun winked at us once or twice through the broken clouds, 
 with a watery eye ; but our cup was not yet full. After 
 crossing one or two shoulders of the range of hills, we de- 
 scended to the great upland plain of Central Italy, watered 
 by the sources of the Arno and the Tiber. The scenery is 
 of a remarkable character. The hills appear to have been 
 washed and swept by some mighty flood. They are worn 
 into every shape — pyramids, castles, towers — standing deso- 
 late and brown, in long ranges, like the ruins of mountains. 
 The plain is scarred with deep gullies, adding to the look of 
 decay which accords so well with the Cyclopean relics of the 
 country. A storm of hail which rolled away before us, dis- 
 
ITALIAN COUNTRY INNS. 397 
 
 closed tlie city of Arezzo, on a hill at the other end of the 
 plain, its heavy cathedral crowning the pyramidal mass of 
 buildings. Our first care was to find a good trattoria, for 
 hunger spoke louder then sentiment, and then we sought 
 the house where Petrarch was born, A young priest show- 
 ed it to us on the summit of the hill. It has not been 
 changed since he lived in it. 
 
 On leaving Florence, we determined t ) pursue the same 
 plan as in Germany, of stopping in the inns frequented by 
 the common people. They treated us here, as elsewhere, 
 with great kindness and sympathy, and we were freed from 
 the outrageous impositions practised at the greater hotels. 
 They always built a large fire to dry us, after our day's 
 walk in the rain, and placing chairs in the hearth, which was 
 raised several feet above the floor, stationed us there, like 
 the giants Gog and Magog, while the children, assembled 
 below, gazed up at our elevated greatness. They even 
 invited us to share their simple meals with them, and it was 
 amusing to hear their good-hearted exclamations of pity at 
 finding we were so far from home. We slept in the great 
 beds (for the most of the Italian beds are calculated for a 
 man, wife, and four children !) without fear of being assas- 
 sinated, and only met with banditti in dreams. 
 
 This is a very unfavorable time of the year for foot-travel- 
 ling, as we found before the close of the third day. We 
 walked until noon over the Yal di Ohiana to Camuscia, the 
 last post-station in the Tuscan dominions. On a mountain 
 near it is the city of Oortona, still inclosed Avithin its Cyclo- 
 pean walls, built long before the foundation of Rome. Here 
 our patience gave way, melted down by the unremitting 
 
398 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 rains, and while eating dinner we made a bargain for a 
 vehicle to take us to Perugia. We gave a little more than 
 half of what the vetturino demanded, which was still an 
 exorbitant price — two scudi each for a ride of thirty miles. 
 
 In a short time we were called to take our seats. I be- 
 held with consternation a rickety, uncovered, two-wheeled 
 vehicle, to which a single lean horse was attached. " What !" 
 said 1 : *' is that the carriage you promised ? " " You bar- 
 gained for a calesino,'" said he, " and there it is ! " adding, 
 moreover, that there was nothing else in the place. So we 
 clambered up, thrust our feet among the hay, and the 
 machine rolled off with a kind of saw-mill motion, at the 
 rate of five miles an hour. Soon after, in ascending the 
 mountain of the Spelunca, a sheet of blue water was re- 
 vealed below us — the lake of Thrasymene ! From the emi- 
 nence around which we drove, we looked on the whole of 
 its broad surface and the mountains which encompass it. It 
 is a magnificent sheet of water, in size and shape somewhat 
 like New York Bay. While our calesino was stopped at 
 the papal custom-house, I gazed on the memorable field 
 below us. A crescent plain, between the mountain and the 
 lake, was the arena where two mighty empires met in com- 
 bat. The place seems marked by nature for the scene of 
 some great event. I experienced a thrilling emotion, such 
 as no battle plain has excited, since, when a schoolboy, I 
 rambled over the field of Brandywine. I looked through 
 the long arcades of patriarchal olives, and tried to cover the 
 field with the shadows of the Eoman and Carthaginian 
 myriads. I recalled the shock of meeting legions, the clash 
 of swords and bucklers, and the waving of standards amid 
 
A NIGHT-RIDE IN THE RAIN. 399 
 
 the dust of battle, while stood on the mountain amphi- 
 theatre, trembling and invisible, the protecting deities of 
 Rome. 
 
 We rode over the plain, passed through the dark old town 
 of Passignano, built on a rocky point by the lake, and 
 dashed along the shore. A dark, stormy sky bent over us, 
 and the roused waves broke in foam on the rocks. The 
 winds whistled among the bare oak boughs, and shook the 
 olives until they twinkled all over. The vetturino whipped 
 our old horse into a gallop, and we were borne on in unison 
 with the scene, which would have answered for one of Hoff- 
 man's wildest stories. 
 
 Ascending a long hill, we took a last look in the dusk at 
 Tlirasymene, and continued our journey among the Ap- 
 penines. The vetturino was to have changed horses at 
 Magione, thirteen miles from Perugia, but there were none 
 to be had, and our poor beast was obhged to perform the 
 whole journey without rest or food. It grew very dark, 
 and a storm, with thunder and lightning, swept among the 
 hills. The clouds were of pitchy darkness, and we could 
 ' see nothing beyond the road, except the lights of peasant- 
 cottages trembling through the gloom. Now and then a flash 
 of lightning revealed the black masses of the mountains, on 
 which the solid sky seemed to rest. The wind and cold rain 
 swept wailing past us, as if an evil spirit were abroad on the 
 darkness. Three hoiu'S of such nocturnal travel brought us 
 to Perugia, wet and chilly, as well as our driver, but I pitied 
 the poor horse more than him. 
 
 When we looked out the window, on awaking, the 
 clustered house-tops of the city, and the summits of the 
 
400 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 mountains near, were covered with snow. As the rain con- 
 tinued, we left for Foligno the next morning, in a close but 
 covered vehicle, and descending the mountain, crossed the 
 muddy and rapid Tiber in the valley below. All day we 
 rode slowly among the hills ; where the ascent was steep, 
 two or four large oxen were hitched before the horses. I 
 saw little of the scenery, for our Italian companions would 
 not bear the windows open. Once, when we stopped, I got 
 out and found we were in the region of snow, at the foot of 
 a stormy peak, which towered sublimely above. At dusk, 
 we entered Foligno, and were driven to the " Croce Bianca" 
 . — glad to be thirty miles further on our way to Rome. 
 
 After some discussion with a vetturino, who was to leave 
 next morning, we made a contract with him for the re- 
 mainder of the journey, for the rain, which fell in torrents, 
 forbade all thought of pedestrianism. At five o'clock we 
 rattled out of the gate, and drove by the waning moon and 
 morning starlight, down the vale of the Glitumnus. As the 
 dawn stole on I watched eagerly the features of the scene. 
 Instead of a narrow glen, as my fancy had pictured, we 
 were in a valley, several miles broad, covered with rich 
 orchards and fertile fields. A glorious range of mountains 
 bordered it on tlie north, resembling Alps in their winter 
 garments. A rosy flush stole over the snow, which kindled 
 with the growing morn. The Glitumnus, beside us, was the 
 purest of streams. The heavy rains which had fallen, had 
 not soiled in the least its limpid crystal. 
 
 When it grew light enough, I looked at our companions 
 for the three days' journey. The two other inside seats 
 were occupied by a tradesman of Trieste, with his wife and 
 
SPOLETO AND MONTE SOMMA. 401 
 
 child ; an old soldier, and a young dragoon going to visit his 
 parents after seven years' absence, occupied the front seat. 
 Persons travelling together in a carriage are not long in 
 becoming acquainted — close companionship soon breeds 
 familiarity. Before night, I had made a fast friend of the 
 young soldier, learned to bear the perverse humor of the 
 child with as much patience as its father, and even drawn 
 looks of grim kindness from the crusty old vetturino. 
 
 Our mid-day resting-place was Spoleto. As there were 
 two hours given us, we took a ramble through the city, 
 visited the ruins of its B-oman theatre, and saw the gate 
 erected to commemorate the victory gained here over Han- 
 nibal, which stopped his triumphal march towards Rome. 
 A great part of the afternoon was spent in ascending the 
 defiles of Monte Somma, the highest pass on the road 
 between Ancona and Rome. Assisted by two yoke of oxen 
 we slowly toiled up through the snow, the mountains on 
 both sides covered with thickets of box and evergreen oaks, 
 among whose leafy screens the banditti hide themselves. It 
 is not considered dangerous at present, but as the dragoons 
 who used to patrol this pass have been sent off to Bologna, 
 to keep down the rebellion, the robbers will probably return 
 to their old haunts again. "We saw many suspicious looking 
 coverts, where they might have hidden. 
 
 We slept at Terni and did not see the falls — not exactly 
 on Wordsworth's principle of leaving Yarrow unvisited, but 
 because, under the circumstances, it was impossible. The 
 vetturino did not arrive there until after dark ; he was to 
 leave before dawn; the distance was five miles, and the 
 roads very bad. Besides, we had seen falls quite as grand, 
 
402 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 whicli needed only a Byron to make them as renowned — we 
 had been told that those of Tivoli, which we shall see, were 
 equally fine. The Velino, which we crossed near Terni, 
 was not a large stream — in short, we sought as many reasons 
 as possible, why the falls need not be seen. 
 
 Leaving Terni before day, we drove up the long vale 
 towards Narni. The roads were frozen hard; the ascent 
 becoming more difficult, the vetturino was obliged to stop at 
 a farm-house and get another pair of horses, with which, 
 and a handsome young contadino as postillion, we reached 
 Narni in a short time. In climbing the hill, we had a view 
 of the whole valley of Terni, shut in on all sides by snow- 
 crested Appenines, and threaded by the Nar. At Otricoli, 
 while dinner was preparing, I walked around the crumbling 
 battlements to look down into the valley and trace the far 
 windings of the Tiber. In rambling through the crooked 
 streets, we saw everywhere the remains of the splendor 
 which this place boasted in the days of Eome. Fragments 
 of fluted pillars stood here and there in the streets ; large 
 blocks of marble covered with inscriptions were built into 
 the houses, defaced statues were used as door-ornaments, and 
 the stepping-stone to our rude inn, worn every day by the feet 
 of grooms and vetturini, contained some letters of an inscrip- 
 tion which may have recorded the glory of an emperor. 
 
 Travelling with a vetturino, is unquestionably the plea- 
 santest way of seeing Italy. The easy rate of the joUrney 
 allows time for becoming well acquainted with the country, 
 and the tourist is freed from the annoyance of quarrelling 
 with cheating landlords. A translation of our written con- 
 tract will best explain this mode of travelling : 
 
SORACTE AT SUNSET. 403 
 
 'Caeeiage foe Eome. 
 
 " Our contract is, to be conducted to Eome for tlie snm of twenty 
 francs each, say 2 Of. and the huona mano^ if we are well served. 
 "We must have from the vetturino, Giuseppe Nerpiti, supper each 
 night, a free chamber with two beds, and fire, until we shall arrive 
 at Eome. I, Geronymo SartareUi, steward of the Inn of the White 
 Cross, at FoUgno, in testimony of the above contract." 
 
 Beyond Otricoli, we passed through some relics of an age 
 anterior to E-ome. A few soiled masses of masonry, black 
 with age, stood along the brow of the mountain, on the 
 extremity of which were the ruins of a castle of the middle 
 ages. We crossed the Tiber on a bridge built by Augustus 
 Caesar, and reached Borghetto as the sun was gilding with 
 its last rays the ruined citadel above. As the carriage with. 
 its four horses was toiling slowly up the hill, we got out and 
 walked in advance, to gaze on the green meadows of the 
 Tiber. 
 
 On descending from Narni, I noticed a high, prominent 
 mountain, whose ridgy back, somewhat like the profile of a 
 face, reminded me of the Traunstein, in Upper Austria. As 
 we approached, its form gradually changed, until it stood on 
 the Campagna 
 
 " Like a long-swept -wave about to break, 
 That on the curl hangs pausing " — 
 
 and by that token of a great bard, I recognized Monte So- 
 racte. The dragoon took us by the arms, and away we 
 scampered over the Campagna, with one of the loveliest sun- 
 sets before us, that ever painted itself on my retina. I can- 
 
404 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 not portray in words the glory that flooded the whole west- 
 ern heaven. It was a sea of melted ruby, amethyst and 
 topaz — deep, dazzling and of crystal transparency. The 
 color changed in tone every few minutes, till in half an 
 hour it sank away before the twilight to a belt of deep 
 orange along the west. 
 
 We left Civita Oastellana before daylight. The sky was 
 red with dawn as we approached Nepi, and we got out 
 to walk in the clear, frosty air. The dragoon, who had become 
 my bosom friend, threw one arm around my neck and gave 
 me half of his thick military cloak, and thus, muffled up 
 together, we walked nearly all forenoon. In traversing the 
 desolate Oampagna, we saw many deep chambers dug in 
 the earth, used by the charcoal burners ; the air was filled 
 with sulphureous exhalations, very offensive to the smell, 
 which rose from the ground in many places. Miles and 
 miles of the dreary waste, covered only with flocks of graz- 
 ing sheep, were passed, — and about noon we reached Bac- 
 cano, a small post station, twenty miles from Rome. A long 
 hill rose before us, and we sprang out of the carriage and 
 ran ahead, to see E-ome from its summit. As we approach- 
 ed the top, the Campagna spread far before and around us, 
 level and blue as an ocean. I climbed up a high bank by 
 the roadside, and the whole scene came in view. Perhaps 
 eighteen miles distant rose the dome of St. Peter's near the 
 horizon — a small spot on the vast plain. Beyond it and 
 further east, were the mountains of Albano — on our left 
 Soracte and the Appenines, and a blue line along the west 
 betrayed the Mediterranean. There was nothing peculiarly 
 beautiful or sublime in the landscape, but few other scenes 
 
ENTERING ROME. 406 
 
 on earth combine in one glance such a myriad of mighty 
 associations, or bewilder the mind with such a crowd of con- 
 fused emotions. 
 
 As we approached Rome, my dragoon became anxious and 
 impatient. He had not heard from his parents for a long 
 time, and knew not if they were living, His desire to 
 reach the end of his journey finally became so great, that 
 he hailed a peasant who was driving past in a light vehicle, 
 left our slow carriage and went out of sight in a gallop. 
 
 As we descended to the Tiber in the dusk of evening, the 
 domes and spires of Eome came gradually into view, St. 
 Peter's standing like a mountain in the midst of them. Cross- 
 ing the yellow river by the Ponte Molle, two miles of road, 
 straight as an arrow, lay before us, with the light of the 
 Porta del Popolo at the end. I felt strangely excited as the 
 old vehicle rumbled through the arch, and we entered a 
 square with fountains and an obelisk of Egyptian granite in 
 the centre. Delivering up our passports, we waited until 
 the necessary examinations • had been made, and then went 
 forward. Three streets branch out from the square, the 
 middle one of which, leading directly to the Capitol, is the 
 Corso, the Roman Broadway. Our vetturino chose that to 
 the left, the Via della Scrota, leading off towards the bridge 
 of St. Angelo. I looked out the windows as we drove along, 
 but saw nothing except butcher-shops, grocer-stores, etc. — 
 horrible objects for a sentimental traveller ! 
 
 Being emptied out on the pavement at last, our first care 
 was to find rooms ; after searching through many streets, 
 with a coarse old Italian who spoke like an angel, we ar- 
 rived at a square where the music of a fountain was heard 
 
406 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 through the dusk, and an obelisk cut out some of the star- 
 light. At the other end I saw a portico through the dark- 
 ness, and my heart gave a breathless bound on recognising 
 the Pantheon — the matchless temple of Ancient Rome ! And 
 now while I am writing, I hear the gush of the fountain — 
 and if I step to the window, I see the time-worn but still 
 glorious edifice. 
 
 On returning for our baggage, we met the funeral proces- 
 sion of the Princess Altieri. Priests in white and gold car- 
 ried flaming torches, and the coffin, covered with a magnifi- 
 cent golden pall, was borne in a splendid hearse, attended 
 by four priests. As we Avere settling our account with the 
 vetturino, who demanded much more huona mano than we 
 were willing to give, the young dragoon returned. He was 
 greatly agitated. " I have been at home ! " said he, in a 
 voice trembling with emotion. I was about to ask him fur- 
 ther concerning his family, but he stopped me by saying : 
 "I have only come to say ^ addio !* I hope we shall meet 
 again." He then threw his arms around me, kissed me 
 twice, said " addio I " with an unsteady voice, and was gone, 
 I almost wish we had not met, for I shall never see him 
 again. I stop writing to ramble through Rome. This city 
 of all cities to me — this dream of my boyhood — giant, god- 
 like, fallen Rome — is around me, and I revel in a glow of 
 anticipation and exciting thought that seems to change my 
 whole state of being. 
 
CHAPTEE XXXVII. 
 
 The Fivst Day in Eome— The Corso— We find the Forum— Trajan'3 Column— Papal 
 Profanation— St. Peter's Found— The Square and Obelisk— The Interior of St. 
 Peter's — The Galleries of the Vatican — Statues — Ancient Art^— Hemicycle of the 
 Belvidere — The Laocoon— The Divine Apollo — New Year's Day in Eome— The 
 Quirinal Hill— St. John Lateran— The Temple of Vesta— The Pyramid of Cestius^ 
 The Tombs of Keats and Shelley— The Euins of Eome— The Coliseum at Sunset — 
 Mausoleum of Augustus— Crawford's Studio — The Square of the Pantheon — Pro- 
 fane and Pious Beggars— The Trattoria del Sole — Impressions of Eoman Euins — 
 The Coliseum by Moonlight. 
 
 Rome, December 29, 1845. 
 One day's walk througli Rome — how shall I describe it ? 
 The Capitol, the Forum, St. Peter's, the Coliseum — what 
 few hours' ramble ever took in places so hallowed by poetry, 
 history and art ? It was a golden leaf in my calendar of 
 life. In thinking over it now, and drawing out the threads 
 of recollection from the varied web of thought I have woven 
 to-day, I almost wonder how I dared so much at once ; but 
 within reach of them all, how was it possible to wait ? Let 
 me give a sketch of our day's ramble. 
 
 Hearing that it was better to visit the ruins by evening or 
 
408 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 moonliglit (alas ! there is no moon now), we set out to hunt 
 St. Peter's. Going in the direction of the Corso, we passed 
 the ruined front of the magnificent Temple of Antoninus, 
 now used as the Papal Custom House. "We turned to the 
 right on entering the Oorso, expecting to h^ve a view of the 
 city from the hill at its southern end. It is a magnificent 
 street, lined with palaces and splendid edifices of every kind, 
 and always filled with crowds of carriages and people. On 
 leaving it, however, we became bewildered among the narrow 
 streets — passed through a market of vegetables, crowded 
 with beggars and contadini — threaded many by-ways between 
 dark old buildings — saw one or two antique fountains and 
 many modern churches, and finally arrived at a hill. 
 
 "We ascended many steps, and then descending a little 
 towards the other side, saw suddenly below us the Roman 
 Forum / I knew it at once — and those three Corinthian 
 columns that stood near us — what could they be but the re- 
 mains of the temple of Jupiter Stator ? "We stood on the 
 Capitoline Hill ; at the foot was the Arch of Septimus Se- 
 verus, brown with age and shattered ; near it stood the ma- 
 jestic front of the Temple of Fortune, its pillars of polished 
 granite glistening in the sun, as if they had been erected 
 yesterday, while on the left the rank grass was waving from 
 the arches and mighty walls of the Palace of the Csesars ! 
 In front ruin upon ruin lined the way for half a mile, where 
 the Coliseum towered grandly through the blue morning 
 mist, at the base of the Esquiline Hill ! Good heavens, 
 what a scene ! Grandeur, such as the world has never 
 since beheld, once rose through that blue atmosphere; 
 splendor inconceivable, the spoils of a world, the triumphg 
 
TKA JAN'S COLUMN. 409 
 
 of a thousand armies had passed over that earth ; minds, 
 which for ages moved the ancient world, had thought there ; 
 and words of power and glorj, from the lips of immortal 
 men, had been syllabled on that hallowed air. To call back 
 all this on the very spot, while the wreck of what once was 
 rose mouldering and desolate around, kindled a glow of 
 thought and feeling too powerful for words. 
 
 Returning at hazard through the streets, we came sud- 
 denly upon the column of Trajan, standing in an excavated 
 sq^uare below the level of the city, amid a number of broken 
 granite columns, which formed part of the Forum dedicated 
 to him by Eome, after the conquest of Dacia. The column 
 is one hundred and thirty-two feet high, and entirely cover- 
 ed with bas-reliefs representing his victories, winding about 
 it in a spiral line to the top. The number of figures is com- 
 puted at two thousand five hundred, and they were of such 
 excellence that Raphael used many of them for his models. 
 They are now much defaced, and the column is surmounted 
 by a statue of some saint. The inscription on the pedestal 
 has been erased, and the name of Sixtus V. substituted. 
 Nothing can exceed the ridiculous vanity of the old popes 
 in thus mutilating the finest monuments of ancient art. 
 You cannot look upon any relic of antiquity in Rome, but 
 your eyes are assailed by the words " Pontifex Maximus," 
 in staring modern letters. Even the magnificent bronzes of 
 the Pantheon were stripped to make the baldachin under the 
 dome of St. Peter's. 
 
 Finding our way back again, we took a fresh start, happi- 
 ly in the right direction, and after walking some time came 
 out on the Tiber, at the Bridge of St. Angelo. The river 
 18 
 
410 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 rolled below in his muddy gloiy, and in front, on the oppo- 
 site bank, stood " the pile which Hadrian reared on high " — 
 now, the Castle of St. Angelo. Knowing that St. Peter's 
 was to be seen from this bridge, I looked about in search of 
 it. There was only one dome in sight, large and of beauti- 
 ful proportions. I said at once, '' surely that cannot be St. 
 Peter's !" On looking again, however, I saw the top of a 
 massive range of building near it, which corresponded so 
 
 • nearly with the pictures of the Vatican, that I was unwil- 
 lingly forced to believe the mighty dome was really before 
 me. I recognised it as one of those we had seen from the 
 Capitol, but it appeared so much smaller when viewed from 
 a greater distance, that I was quite deceived. On consider- 
 ing we were still three fourths of a mile from it, and that 
 we could see its minutest parts distinctly, the illusion was 
 explained. 
 
 Going directly down the Borgo Vecchio, it seemed a long 
 time before we arrived at the square of St. Peter's ; and 
 
 'when at length we stood in front, with the majestic colonnade 
 sweeping around — the fountains on each side sending up 
 their showers of silvery spray — the mighty obelisk of Egyp- 
 tian granite piercing the sky — and beyond, the great facade 
 and dome of the Cathedral, I confessed my unmingled ad- 
 miration. It recalled to my mind the grandeur of ancient 
 Rome, and mighty as her edifices must have been, I doubt 
 if she could boast many views more overpowering than this. 
 The facade of St. Peter's seemed close to us, but it was 
 a third of a mile distant, and the people ascending the steps 
 dwindled to pigmies. 
 
 I passed the obelisk, went up the long ascent, crossed the 
 
THE INTERIOR OF ST. PETEr's. 411 
 
 portico, pushed aside the heavy leathern curtain at the 
 entrance, and stood in the great nave. I need not describe 
 my feelings at the sight, but I will give the dimensions, and 
 the reader may then fancy what they were. Before me 
 was a marble plain six hundred feet long, and under the 
 cross four hundred and seventeen feet wide ! One hundred 
 and fifty feet above, sprang a glorious arch, dazzling with 
 inlaid gold, and in the centre of the cross there were four 
 hundred feet of air between me and the top of the dome ! 
 The sunbeam, stealing through the lofty window at one end 
 of the transept, made a bar of light on the blue air, hazy 
 with incense, one tenth of a mile long, before it fell on the 
 mosaics and gilded shrines of the other extremity. The 
 grand cupola alone, including lantern and cross, is two hun 
 dred and eighty -five feet high, or sixty feet higher than the 
 Bunker Hill Monument, and the four immense pillars on 
 which it rests are each one hundred and thirty-seven feet in 
 circumference ! It seems as if human art had outdone 
 itself in producing this temple — the grandest which the 
 world ever erected for the worship of the Living God ! The 
 awe I felt in looking up at the colossal arch of marble and 
 gold, did not humble me ; on the contrary, I felt exalted, 
 ennobled — beings in the form I wore planned the glorious 
 edifice, and it seemed that in godlike power and persever- 
 ance, they were indeed but a little lower than the angels. 
 I felt that, if fallen, my race was still mighty and immortal. 
 The Vatican is only open twice a week, on days which 
 are not festas; most fortunately, to-day happened to be one 
 of these, and we took a run through its endless halls. The 
 extent and magnificence of the gallery of sculpture is 
 
412 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 amazing. The halls, which are filled to overflowing with 
 the finest works of ancient art, would, if placed side by side, 
 make a row more than two miles in length ! Yon enter at 
 once into a hall of marble, with a magnificent arched ceiling, 
 a third of a mile long; the sides are covered for a great 
 distance with Eoman inscriptions of every kind, divided into 
 compartments according to the era of the empire to which 
 they refer. One which I examined, appeared to be a kind 
 of index of the roads in Italy, with the towns on them ; and 
 we could decipher on that time-worn block, the very route 
 we had followed from Florence hither. 
 
 Then came the statues, and here I am bewildered, how to 
 describe them. Hundreds upon hundreds of figures — statues 
 of citizens, generals, emperors, and gods — fauns, satyrs, and 
 nymphs — children, cupids, and tritons — in fact, they seemed 
 inexhaustible. Many of them, too, were forms of matchless 
 beauty ; there were Venuses and nymphs, born of the 
 loftiest dreams of grace; fauns on whose faces shone the 
 very soul of humor, and heroes and divinities with an air 
 of majesty worthy the " land of lost gods and godlike men !" 
 
 I am lost in astonishment at the perfection of art attained 
 by the Greeks and E-omans. There is scarcely a form of 
 beauty, that has ever met my eye, which is not to be found 
 in this gallery. I should almost despair of such another 
 blaze of glory on the world, were it not my devout belief 
 that what has been done may be done again, and had I not 
 faith that the dawn in which we live will bring on another 
 day equally glorious. And why should not America, with 
 the experience and added wisdom which three thousand 
 years have slowly yielded to the old world, joined to the 
 
THE LAOCOON. 413 
 
 giant energy of her youtli and freedom, re-bestow on the 
 world the divine creations of Art 1 
 
 But let us step on to the hemicycle of the Belvidere, and 
 view some works greater than any we have yet seen, or 
 even imagined. The adjoining gallery is filled with master- 
 pieces of sculpture, but we will keep our eyes unwearied 
 and merely glance along the rows. At length we reach a 
 circular court with a fountain flinging up its waters in the 
 centre. Before us is an open cabinet ; there is a beautiful, 
 manly form within, but you would not for an instant take it 
 for the Apollo. By the Gorgon head it holds aloft, we re- 
 cognise Canova's Perseus — he has copied the form and atti- 
 tude of the Apollo, but he could not breathe into it the same 
 warming fire. It seemed to me particularly lifeless, and I 
 greatly preferred his Boxers, who stand on either side of it. 
 
 Now we look on a scene of the deepest physical agony. 
 Mark how every muscle of old Laocoon's body is distended 
 to the utmost in the mighty struggle ! What intensity of 
 pain in the quivering, distorted features ! Every nerve, 
 which despair can call into action, is excited in one giant 
 effort, and a scream of anguish seems just to have quivered 
 on those marble lips. The serpents have rolled their stran- 
 gling coils aroimd father and sons, but terror has taken away 
 the strength of the latter, and they make but feeble resist- 
 ance. After looking with indifference on the many casts of 
 this group, I was the more moved by the magnificent 
 original. It deserves all the admiration that has been 
 heaped upon it. 
 
 I absolutely trembled on approaching the cabinet of the 
 Apollo. I had built up in fancy a glorious ideal, drawn from 
 
414 TIEWS A-rOOT. 
 
 all that bards have sung or artists have rhapsodized about 
 its divine beauty. I feared disappointment — I dreaded to 
 have my ideal displaced and my faith in the power of human 
 genius overthrown by a form less than perfect. However, 
 with a feeling of desperate excitement, I entered and looked 
 upon it. Now what shall I say of it ? How describe its 
 immortal beauty ? To what shall I liken its glorious per- 
 fection of form, or the fire that imbues the cold marble with 
 the soul of a god 1 Not with sculpture, for it stands alone 
 and above all other works of art — nor with men, for it has 
 a majesty more than human. I gazed on it, lost in wonder 
 and joy — joy that I could, at last, take into my mind a fault- 
 less ideal of god-like, exalted manhood. The figure seems 
 actually to possess a soul, and I looked on it, not as on a piece 
 of marble, but as on a being of loftier mould, and waited to 
 see him step forward when the arrow had reached its mark. 
 I would give worlds to feel one moment the sculptor's 
 triumph when his work was completed ; that one exulting 
 thrill must have repaid him for every ill he might have suf- 
 fered on earth. 
 
 January 1, 1846. 
 New Year's Day in the Eternal City ! It will be some- 
 thing to say in after years, that I have seen one year open 
 in Rome — that, while my distant friends were making up 
 for the winter without, with good cheer around the merry 
 board, I have walked in sunshine by the ruins of the 
 Coliseum, watched the orange groves gleaming with golden 
 fruitage in the Farnese gardens, trodden the daisied meadow 
 
NEW-YEARS DAY IN ROME. 415 
 
 around the sepulchre of Oaius Cestius, and mused by the 
 graves of Shelley, Keats and Salvator llosa ! The Palace 
 of the Cassars looked even more mournful in the pale, slant 
 sunshine, and the yellow Tiber, as he flowed through the 
 " marble wilderness," seemed sullenly counting up the long 
 centuries during which degenerate slaves have trodden his 
 banks. A leaden-colored haze clothed the seven hills, and 
 heavy silence reigned among the ruins, for all work was 
 prohibited, and the people were gathered in their churches. 
 Rome never appeared so desolate and melancholy as 
 to-day. 
 
 In the morning I climbed the Quirinal Hill, now called 
 Monte Oavallo, from the colossal statues of Castor and 
 Pollux, with their steeds, supposed to be the work of Phi- 
 dias and Praxiteles. They stand on each side of an obelisk 
 of Egyptian granite, beside which a strong stream of water 
 gushes up into a magnificent bronze basin, found in the old 
 Forum. The statues, entirely browned by age, are consider- 
 ed masterpieces of Grecian art, and whether or not from the 
 great masters, show in all their proportions, the conceptions 
 of lofty genius. 
 
 We kept on our way between gardens filled with orange 
 groves,- whose glowing fruit reminded me of Mignon's beau- 
 tiful reminiscence — " Im dunkeln Laub die gold-Orangen 
 gliihn!" Rome, although subject to cold winds from the 
 Appenines, enjoys so mild a climate that oranges and palm 
 trees grow in the open air, without protection. Daisies and 
 violets bloom the whole winter, in the meadows of never- 
 fading green. The basilica of the Lateran equals St. Peter's 
 in splendor, though its size is much smaller. The walls are 
 
416 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 covered with gorgeous hangings of velvet embroidered with 
 gold, and before the high altar, which glitters with precious 
 stones, are four pillars of gilt bronze, said to be thos^ which 
 Augustus made of the spars of Egyptian vessels captured at 
 the battle of Actium. 
 
 We descended the hill to the Coliseum, and passing under 
 the Arch of Constantine, walked along the ancient triumphal 
 way, at the foot of the Palatine Hill, which is entirely 
 covered with the ruins of the Cajsars' Palace. A road, 
 rounding its southern base to\v ards the Tiber, brought us to 
 the Temple of Vesta — a beautiful little relic which has been 
 singularly spared by the devastations that have overthrown 
 so many mightier fabrics. It is of circular form, surrounded 
 by nineteen Corinthian columns, thirty -six feet in height ; a 
 clumsy tiled roof now takes the place of the elegant cornice 
 which once gave the crowning charm to its perfect propor- 
 tions. Close at hand are the remains of the temple of For- 
 tuna Virilis, of which some Ionic pillars alone are left, and 
 the house of Cola di E-ienzi — the last Tribune of Rome. 
 
 As we approached the walls, the sepulchre of Caius Cestius 
 came in sight — a single solid pyramid, one hundred feet in 
 height. The walls are built against it, and the light apex rises 
 far above the massive gate beside it, which was erected by 
 Belisarius. But there were other tombs at hand, for which 
 we had more sympathy than that of the forgotten Roman, 
 and we turned away to look for the graves of Shelley and 
 Keats. They lie in the Protestant burying ground, on the 
 side of a mound that slopes gently up to the old wall of 
 Rome, beside the pyramid of Cestius. The meadow around 
 is still verdant and sown thick with daisies, and the soft 
 
GRAVES OF KEATS AND SHELLEY. 417 
 
 green of the Italian pine mingles with the dark cypress 
 above the slumberers. Huge aloes grow m the shade, and 
 the sweet bay and bushes of rosemary make the air fresh 
 and fragrant. There is a solemn, mournful beauty about the 
 place, green and lonely as it is, beside the tottering walls of 
 ancient Rome, that takes away the gloomy associations of 
 death, and makes one wish to lie there, too, when his thread 
 shall be spun to the end. 
 
 We found first the simple head-stone of Keats, alone, in 
 the grassy meadow. Its inscription states that on his death- 
 bed, in the bitterness of his heart, at the malice of his 
 enemies, he desired these words to be written on his tomb- 
 stone : " Here lies one whose name was written in water^ 
 
 Shelley lies at the top of the shaded slope, in a lonely 
 spot by the wall, surrounded by tall cypresses. A little 
 hedge of rose and bay surrounds his grave, which bears the 
 simple inscription — "Percy Bysshe Shelley; Cor Cor- 
 diumy 
 
 "Nothing of hira that doth fade, 
 But doth suffer a sea-change 
 Into something rich and strange." 
 
 Glorious Shelley ! He sleeps calmly now in that silent 
 nook, and the air around his grave is filled with sighs from 
 those who mourn that so pure a star of poetry should have 
 been blotted out before it reached its meridian. I plucked 
 a leaf from the fragrant bay, as a token of his fame, and a 
 sprig of cypress from the bough that bent lowest over his 
 grave ; and passing between tombs shaded with blooming 
 18* 
 
418 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 roses, or covered with unwitliered garlands, left the lovely 
 spot. 
 
 Amid tlie excitement of continually changing scenes, I 
 have forgotten to mention our first visit to the Coliseum. 
 The day after our arrival we set out with two English 
 friends, to see it by sunset. Passing by the glorious foun- 
 tain of Trevi, we made our way to the Forum, and from 
 thence took the road to the Coliseum, lined on both sides 
 with the remains of splendid edifices. The grass-groAvn 
 ruins of the Palace of the Caesars stretched along on our 
 right ; on our left we passed in succession the granite front 
 of the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina, the three grand 
 arches of the Temple of Peace and the ruins of the Temple 
 of Venus and E-ome. We went under the ruined triumphal 
 arch of Titus, with broken friezes representing the taking of 
 Jerusalem, and the mighty walls of the Coliseum gradually 
 rose before us. They grew in grandeur as we approached 
 them, and when at length we stood in the centre, with the 
 shattered arches and grassy walls rising above and beyond 
 one another, far around us, the red light of sunset giving 
 them a soft and melancholy beauty, I was fain to confess 
 that another form of grandeur had entered my mind, of 
 which I knew not before. 
 
 A majesty like that of nature clothes this wonderful edi- 
 fice. Walls rise above walls, and arches above arches from 
 every side of the grand arena, like a sweep of craggy, pin- 
 nacled mountains around an oval lake. The two outer cir- 
 cles have almost entirely disappeared, torn away by the ra- 
 pacious nobles of Eome, during the middle ages, to build 
 their palaces. When entire, and filled with its hundred 
 
THE COLISEUM AT SUNSET. 419 
 
 thousand spectators, it must have exceeded any pageant 
 which the world can now produce. While standing in the 
 arena, impressed with the spirit of the scene around me, 
 which grew more spectral ^nd melancholy as the dusk of 
 evening began to fill up the broken arches, my eye was as- 
 sailed by the shrines ranged around the space, doubtless to 
 remove the pollution of paganism. In the centre stands 
 also a cross, with an inscription, granting an absolution of 
 forty days to all who kiss it. Now, although a simple cross 
 in the centre might be very appropriate, both as a token of 
 the heroic devotion of the martyr Telemachus and the 
 triumph of a true religion over the barbarities of the Past, 
 this congregation of shrines and bloody pictures mars very 
 miich the unity of association so necessary to the perfect 
 enjoyment of any such scene We saw the flush of sunset 
 fade behind the Capitoline Hill, and passed homeward by 
 the Forum, as its shattered pillars were growing solemn and 
 spectral in the twilight. 
 
 In the Via de* PoTUefici, not far distant from the Borghese 
 Palace, we saw the Mausoleum of Augustus. It is a large 
 circular structure somewhat after the plan of that of Hadrian, 
 but on a much smaller scale. The interior has been cleared 
 out, seats erected around the walls, and the whole is now a 
 summer theatre, for the amusement of the peasantry and 
 tradesmen. What a commentary on greatness ! Harlequin 
 playing his pranks in the tomb of an Emperor, and the 
 spot which nations approached with reverence, resounding 
 with the mirth of beggars and degraded vassals ! 
 
 I was in the studio of Crawford, the sculptor ; he has at 
 present nothing finished in the marble. There were many 
 
420 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 casts of Ms former works, wliicli, judging from their appear- 
 ance in plaster, must be of no common excellence — for the 
 sculptor can only be justly judged in marble. I saw some 
 fine bas-reliefs of classical subjects, and an exquisite group 
 of Mercury and Psyche, but his masterpiece is undoubtedly 
 the Orpheus. The face is full of the inspiration of the poet, 
 softened by the lover's tenderness, and the whole fervor of 
 his soul is expressed in the eagerness with which he gazes 
 forward, on stepping past the sleeping Cerberus. 
 
 We are often amused with the groups in the square of the 
 Pantheon, which we can see from our chamber window. 
 Shoemakers and tinkers carry on their business along the 
 sunny side, while the venders of oranges and roasted chest- 
 nuts form a circle around the Egyptian obelisk and fountain. 
 Across the end of an opposite street we get a glimpse of the 
 vegetable market, and now and then the shrill voice of a 
 pedlar makes its nasal solo audible above the confused chorus. 
 As the beggars choose the Corso, St. Peter's, and the ruins 
 for their principal haunts, we are now spared the hearing 
 of their lamentations. Every time we go out we are 
 assailed with them. " Maladetta s'a la vostra testa !" — 
 '^Curses be upon your head!" — said one whom I passed 
 without notice. The priests are, however, the greatest beg- 
 gars. In every church are kept offering-boxes, for the sup- 
 port of the church or some unknown institution ; they even 
 go from house to house, imploring support and assistance in 
 the name of the Virgin and all the saints, while their bloat- 
 ed, sensual countenances and capacious frames tell of any- 
 thing but fasts and privations. Once, as I was sitting among 
 the ruins, I was suddenly startled by a loud, rattling sound j 
 
THE TRATTORIA DEL SOLE. 421 
 
 turning mj head, I saw a figure clothed in white from head 
 to foot, with only two small holes for the eyes. He held in 
 his hand a money-box, on which was a figure of the Virgin, 
 which he held close to my lips, that I might kiss it. This I 
 declined doing, but dropped a baiocco into his box, when 
 making the sign of tlie cross, he silently disappeared. 
 
 Our present lodging (Trattoria del Sole) is a good speci- 
 men of an Italian inn for mechanics and common tradesmen. 
 Passing through the front room, which is an eating-place for 
 the common people — with a barrel of wine in the'corner, 
 and bladders of lard hanging among orange boughs in the 
 window — we enter a dark court-yard filled with heavy carts, 
 and noisy with the neighing of horses and singing of grooms, 
 for the stables occupy part of the house. An open staircase, 
 running all around this hollow square, leads to the second, 
 , third, and fourth stories. On the second story is the dining 
 room for the better class of travellers, who receive the same 
 provisions as those below for double the price, and the ad- 
 ditional privilege of giving the waiter two baiocchi. The 
 sleeping apartments are in the fourth story, and are named 
 according to the fancy of a former landlord, in mottos above 
 each door. Thus, on arriving here, the Triester, with his 
 wife and child, more fortunate than our first parents, took 
 refuge in " Paradise/' while we Americans were ushered 
 into the " Chamber of Jove." We have occupied it ever 
 since, and find a paul (ten cents) apiece cheap enough for a 
 good bed and a window opening on the Pantheon. 
 
 I have been now several days loitering and sketching 
 among the ruins, and I feel as if I could willingly wander 
 for months beside these mournful relics, and draw inspiration 
 
422 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 from tlie lofty yet melancholy lore they teach. There is a 
 spirit haunting them, real and undoubted. Every shattered 
 column, every broken arch and mouldering wall, but calls 
 up more vividly to mind the glory that has passed away. 
 Each lonely pillar stands as proudly as if it still helped to 
 bear up the front of a glorious temple, and the air seems 
 scarcely to have ceased vibrating with the clarions that 
 heralded a conqueror's triumph. 
 
 I have seen the flush of morn and eve rest on the Coli- 
 seum,,! have seen the noon-day sky framed in its broken 
 loopholes, like plates of polished sapphire ; and last night, 
 as the moon has grown into the zenith, I went to view it 
 with her. Around the Forum all was silent and spectral — 
 a sentinel challenged us at the Arch of Titus, under which 
 we passed, and along the Caesar's wall, which lay in black 
 shadow. Dead stillness brooded around the Coliseum ; /the 
 pale, silvery lustre streamed through its arches, and over 
 the grassy walls, giving them a look of shadowy grandeur 
 which day could not bestow. The scene will remain fresh 
 in my memory for ever. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 TIVOLI AND THE ROMAN CAMPAGNA. 
 
 Excursion to Tivoli— A Sulphur Bath— The Temple of the Sibyl— A Windy Night— 
 The Cascade of the Anio — The Cascatelles — The Campagna — Museum of the 
 Capitol — The Dying Gladiator— Euins on the Campagna— Tomb of Cecilia Metella 
 — The Aqueducts — Egeria's Grotto — The Yilla Borghese— Tasso"s Tomb — Passport 
 Fees in Italy— The Turning Point of the Pilgrimage— Farewell ! 
 
 Rome, Jan. 9, 1846." 
 A FEW days ago we made an excursion to Tivoli, one of the 
 loveliest spots in Italy. We left the Eternal City by the 
 Gate of San Lorenzo, and twenty minutes' walk brought 
 us to the bare and bleak Campagna, which was spread 
 around us for leagues in every direction. Here and there a 
 shepherd-boy in his woolly coat, with his flock of browsing 
 sheep, were the only objects that broke its desert-like 
 monotony. At the fourth mile we crossed the rapid Teve- 
 rone, the ancient Anio, formerly the boundary between 
 Latium and the Sabine dominions, and at the tenth, came 
 upon some fragments of the old Tiburtine way, formed of 
 large irregular blocks of basaltic lava. A short distance 
 further we saw across the plain the ruins of the bath of 
 
424 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 Agrippa, built by the side of the Tartarean Lake. The 
 wind, blowing from it, bore to us an overpowering smell of 
 sulplmr ; the waters of the little river Solfatara, which 
 crosses the road, are of a milky blue color, and carry those 
 of the lake into the Anio. Finding the water quite warm, 
 we determined to have a bath. So we ran down the plain, 
 which was covered with a thick coat of sulphur, and sounded 
 hollow to our tread, until we reached a convenient place, 
 where we threw off our clothes, and plunged m. The warm 
 wave was delightful to the skin, but extremely offensive to 
 the smell, and when we came out, our mouths and throats 
 were filled with the stifling gas. 
 
 It was growing dark as we mounted through the narrow 
 streets of Tivoli, but we endeavored to gain some sight of 
 the renowned beauties of the spot, before going to rest. 
 From a platform on a brow of the hill, we looked down into 
 the defile, at the bottom of which the Anio was roaring, and 
 caught a sideward glance of the Cascatelles, sending up 
 their spray amid the evergreen bushes that fringe the rocks. 
 Above the deep glen that curves into the mountain, stands 
 the beautiful temple of the Sibyl — a building of the most 
 perfect and graceful proportion. It crests the rocky brow 
 like a fairy dwelling, and looks all the lovelier for the wild 
 caverns below. Gazing downward from the bridge, one 
 sees the waters of the Anio tumbling into the picturesque 
 grotto of the Sirens; around a rugged corner, a cloud of 
 white spray whirls up continually, while the boom of a 
 cataract rumbles down the glen. All these we marked in 
 the deepening dusk, and then hunted an albergo. 
 
 The shrill-voiced hostess gave us a good supper and clean 
 
THE CASCADE OF THE ANIO. 425 
 
 beds ; and in return we diverted the people very mucli by 
 tbe description of our sulphur bath. We were awakened in 
 the night by the wind shaking the very soul out of our loose 
 casement. I fancied I heard torrents of rain dashing against 
 the panes, and groaned in bitterness of spirit on thinking of 
 a walk back to Rome in such weather. When the morning 
 came, we found it was only a hurricane of wind which was 
 strong enough to tear ofiP pieces of the old roofs. I saw some 
 capuchins nearly overturned in ciossing the square, by the 
 wind seizing their wide robes. 
 
 I had my fingers frozen and my eyes .filled with sand, in 
 trying to draw the Sibyl's temple, and therefore left it to 
 join my companions, who had gone down into the glen to 
 see the great cascade. The Anio bursts out of a cavern in 
 the mountain-side, and like a prisoner giddy with recovered 
 liberty, reels over the edge of a precipice more than two 
 hundred feet deep. The bottom is hid in a cloud of boiling 
 spray, which shifts from side to side, and driven by the wind, 
 sweeps whistling down the narrow pass. It stuns the ear 
 with a perpetual boom, giving a dash of grandeur to the 
 enrapturing beauty of the scene. I tried a foot-path that 
 appeared to lead down to the Cascatelles, but after advanc- 
 ing some distance along the side of an almost perpendicular 
 precipice, I came to a corner that looked so dangerous, espe- 
 cially as the wind was nearly strong enough to carry me oiBP, 
 that it seemed safest to return. We made another vain 
 attempt to get down, by creeping along the bed of a torrent, 
 filled with briars. The Cascatelles are formed by that part 
 of the Anio which is used in the iron works, made out of the 
 ruins of Mecaenas' villa. They gush out from under the 
 
426 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 ancient arches, and tumble more than a hundred feet down 
 the precipice, their white waters gleaming out from the dark 
 and feathery foliage. Not far distant are the remains of the 
 villa of Horace. 
 
 On our return to Eome we took the road to Frascati, and 
 walked for miles among cane-swamps and over plains cover- 
 ed with sheep. The people we saw, were most degraded 
 and ferocious-looking, and there were many I would not 
 willingly meet alone after nightfall. Indeed it is still con- 
 sidered quite unsafe to venture without the walls of Eome, 
 after dark. The women, with their yellow complexions, 
 and the bright red blankets they wear folded around the 
 head and shoulders, resemble Indian squaws. 
 
 I lately spent three hours in the Museum of the Capitol, 
 on the summit of the sacred hill. In the hall of the Gladia- 
 tor I noticed an exquisite statue of Diana. The Faun of 
 Praxiteles, in the same room, is a glorious work ; it is the 
 perfect embodiment of that wild, merry race the Grecian 
 poets dreamed of. One looks on the Gladiator with a hushed 
 breath and an awed spirit. He is dying ; the blood flows 
 more slowly from the deep wound in his side ; his head is 
 sinking downwards, and the arm that supports his body 
 becomes more and more nerveless. You feel that a dull 
 mist is coming over his \asion, and wait to see his relaxing 
 limbs sink suddenly on his shield. That the rude, barba- 
 rian form has a soul, may be read in his touchingly expres- 
 sive countenance. It warms the sympathies like reality to 
 look upon it. Yet how many Romans may have gazed on 
 this work, moved nearly to tears, who have seen hun- 
 dreds perish in the arena without a pitying emotion ! Why 
 
RUINS ON THE CAMPAGNA. 427 
 
 is it ttat Art lias a voice frequently more powerful tlian 
 Nature ? 
 
 Two days ago we took a ramble outside tlie walls. Pass- 
 ing the Coliseum and Caracalla's Baths, we reached the 
 tomb of Scipio, a small sepulchral vault, near the roadside. 
 The ashes of the warrior were scattered to the winds long 
 ago, and his mausoleum is fast falling to decay. The old 
 arch over the Appian way is still standing, near the modern 
 Porta San Sehastiano, through which we entered on the far- 
 famed road. Here and there it is quite entire, and we walk- 
 ed over the stones once worn by the feet of Virgil and 
 Horace and Cicero. After passing the temple of Romulus 
 — a shapeless and ivy~grown ruin — and walking a mile or 
 more beyond the walls, we reached the Circus of Caracalla, 
 whose long and shattered walls fill the hollow of one of the 
 little dells of the Campagna. The original structure must 
 have been of great size and splendor, but those twin Van- 
 dals — Time and Avarice — have stripped aAvay everything 
 but the lofty brick masses, whose nakedness the pitying ivy 
 strives to cover. 
 
 Further, on a gentle slope, is the tomb of " the wealthiest 
 Roman's wife," familiar to every one through Childe Har- 
 old's musings. It is a round, massive tower, faced with large 
 blocks of marble, and still bearing the name of Cecilia 
 Metella. One side is much ruined, and the top is overgrown 
 with grass and wild bushes. The wall is about thhty feet 
 thick, so that but a small round space is left in the interior, 
 which is open to the rain, and filled with rubbish. The echoes 
 pronounced hollowly after us the name of the dead for whom it. 
 Vvas built, but they could tell us nothing of her life's history. 
 
428 VIEWS A-roor. 
 
 I made a hurried drawing of it, and we then turned to 
 the left, across the Campagna, to seek the grotto of Egeria. 
 Before us, across the brown plain, extended the Sabine 
 Mountains; ^j. the clear air the houses of Tivoli, twenty 
 miles distant, were plainly visible. The giant aqueduct 
 stretched in a long line across the Campagna to the moun- 
 tain of Albano, its broken and disjointed arches resembling 
 the vertebrae of some mighty monster. With the ruins of 
 temples and tombs strewing the plain for miles around it, 
 it might be called the spine of the skeleton of Rome. 
 
 We passed many ruins, made beautiful by the clinging 
 ivy, and reached a solemn grove of evergreen oak, overlook- 
 ing a secluded valley. I was soon in the meadow, leaping 
 ditches, rustling through cane-brakes, and climbing up to 
 mossy arches to find the fountain of Numa's nymph, while 
 my companion, who had less taste for the romantic, looked 
 on complacently from the leeward side of the hill. At 
 length we found an arched vault in the hill bide, overhung 
 with wild vines, and shaded in summer by umbrageous trees 
 which grow on the soil above. At the further end a stream 
 of water gushed out from beneath a broken statue, and an 
 aperture in the wall revealed a dark cavern behind. This, 
 then, was " Egeria's grot." The ground was trampled by 
 the feet of cattle, and the taste of the water was anything 
 but pleasant. I tried to creep into the grotto, but it was 
 unpleasantly dark, and no nymph appeared to chase away 
 the shadow with her lustrous eyes. 
 
 I went afterwards to the Villa Borghese, outside the Porto 
 del Popolo. The gardens occupy thirty or forty acres, and 
 are always thronged in the afternoon with the carriages of 
 
THE TOMB OF TASSO. 429 
 
 the Eoman and foreign nobility. In summer, it must be a 
 heavenly place ; even now, with its musical fountains, long 
 avenues, and grassy slopes crowned with the fan-like branches 
 of the Italian pine, it reminds one of the fairy landscapes of 
 Boccaccio. We threaded our way through the press of car- 
 riages on the Pincian hill, and saw the enormous bulk of 
 St. Peter's loom up against the sunset sky. I counted forty 
 domes and spires in that part of Eome which lay below us — 
 but on what a marble glory looked that sun eighteen centu- 
 ries ago ! Modern E-ome — it is, in comparison, a den of filth, 
 cheats and beggars ! 
 
 Yesterday, while taking a random stroll through the city, 
 I visited the church of St. Onofrio, where Tasso is buried. 
 It is not far from St. Peter's, on the summit of a lonely hill. 
 The building was closed, but an old monk admitted us on 
 application. The interior is quite small, but very old, and 
 the floor is covered with the tombs of princes and prelates 
 of a past century. Near the end I found a small slab with 
 the inscription : — " torquati tassi : ossa : hic jacent." 
 That was all — but what more was needed ? Who knows 
 not the name and fame and sufferings of the glorious bard ? 
 The pomp of gold and marble are not needed to deck the 
 slumber of genius. On the wall, above, hangs an old and 
 authentic portrait of him, very similar to the engravings in 
 circulation. A crown of laurel encircles the lofty brow, 
 and the eye has that wild, mournful expression which ac- 
 cords so well with the mysterious tale of his love and 
 madness. 
 
 Owing to the mountain storms, which imposed on us the 
 expense of a carriage-journey to Eome, we shall be prevent- 
 
430 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 ed from going further. One great cause of this is the heavy 
 fee required for passports in Italy. In most of the Italian 
 cities, the cost of the different vises amounts to $4 or $5 : 
 and a few such visits as these reduce our funds very materi- 
 ally. The American Consul's fee is $2, owing to the illibe- 
 ral course of our government, in withholding all salary from 
 her Consuls in Europe. Mr. Brown, however, in whose 
 family we spent last evening very pleasantly, on our request- 
 ing that he would deduct something from the usual fee, 
 kindly declined accepting anything. We felt this kindness 
 the more, as from the character which some of our late Con- 
 suls bear in Italy, we had not anticipated it. We shall re- 
 member him with deeper gratitude than many would sup- 
 pose, who have never known what it is to be a foreigner. 
 
 To-morrow, therefore, we leave E-ome — here is, at last, 
 the limit of our wanderings. We have endured much toil 
 and privation to reach here, and now, after two weeks' 
 rambling and musing among the mighty relics of past glory, 
 we turn our faces homeward. The thrilling hope I cherish- 
 ed during the whole pilgrimage — to climb Parnassus and 
 drink from Castaly, under the blue heaven of Greece— to 
 sigh for fallen Art, beneath the broken friezes of the Par- 
 thenon, and look with a pilgrim's eye on the isles of Homer 
 and Sappho — must be given up, unwillingly and sorrowfully 
 though it be. These glorious anticipations — among the 
 brightest that blessed my boyhood — are slowly wrung from 
 me by stern necessity. Even Naples, the lovely Parthenope, 
 where the Mantuan bard sleeps on the sunny shore, by the 
 bluest of summer seas, with the disinterred Pompeii beyond, 
 and Psestum amid its roses on the lonely Calabrian plain — 
 
farewell! 431 
 
 even this, almost within sight of the cross of St. Peter's, is 
 barred from me. Farewell then, since it must be I Fare- 
 well Greece, that I shall not see — and, Rome, for all thou 
 hast taught me, take in return a pilgrim's blessing! 
 
CHAPTEB, XXXIX, 
 
 THE MEDITERRANEAN IN WINTER. 
 
 Departure from Eome — ^The Oampagna — ^The Shore of the Mediterranean — Civita 
 Yeescbm— The handsome Sailor — Disadvantage of not being Servants — ^Embarking 
 — Sleeping on Deck — Elba and Corsica by Moonlight — Second Night on the Deck 
 — ^A Eainy Day at Genoa — A Stormy Night — A Sailor's Compassion— The Coast 
 of France — Approach to Marseilles — The Two Servants — ^Marseilles — Our Circum- 
 stances. 
 
 Marsehxes, January 16, 1846. 
 We repacked our knapsacks on tho morning of the 10th, 
 bade adieu to the two young Englishmen, and the tall, mys- 
 terious Swede, who had been our only companions in E,ome, 
 and started on foot for Civita Vecchia. When we emerged 
 from the cool alleys of the city, and began to climb up and 
 down the long, barren swells of the Campagna, the sun beat 
 down on us with almost a summer heat. On crossing a ridge 
 near Castel Guido, we took our last look at Eome, and saw 
 from the other side the sunshine lying like a dazzling belt 
 on the far Mediterranean. The country is one of the most 
 wretched that can be imagined. Miles and miles of uncul- 
 tivated land, with scarcely a single habitation, extend on 
 
THE SHORE OF THE MEDITERRANEAN. 433 
 
 either side of the road, and the few shepherds who watch 
 their flocks in the marshy hollows, look wild and savage 
 enough for any kind of crime. It made me shudder to see 
 every face bearing such a villanous stamp. 
 
 We made twenty-five miles, and spent the night at the 
 village of Palo, on the sea-shore. Eising early, we walked 
 in the cool of the morning beside the blue Mediterranean. 
 On the right, the low outposts of the Appenines rose, bleak 
 and brown, the narrow plain between them and the shore 
 resembling a desert, so destitute was it of the signs of civil- 
 ized life. A low, white cloud that hung over the sea, afar 
 off, showed us the locality of Sardinia, although the land was 
 not visible. The sun shone down warmly, and with the blue 
 sky and bluer sea we could easily have imagined, a milder 
 season. The barren scenery took a new interest in my eyes, 
 when I remembered that the day on which I saw it completed 
 my twenty -first year. In the afternoon we found a beautiful 
 cove in a curve of the shore, and went to bathe in the cold 
 surf. It was very refreshing, but not quite equal to the 
 sulphur-bath on the road to Tivoli. The mountains now ran 
 closer to the sea, and the road was bordered with thickets 
 of myrtle. I stopped often to beat my staff into the bushes, 
 and inhale the fragrance that arose from their crushed 
 leaves. 
 
 The sun was sinking in a sky of orange and rose, as Civita 
 Vecchia came in sight on a long headland before us. Be- 
 yond the sea stretched the dim hills of Corsica. We walked 
 nearly an hour in the clear moonlight, by the sounding shore, 
 before the gate of the city was reached. We found a cheap 
 inn called La Stella, where fleas and dirt were plentiful, but 
 19 
 
434 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 our rapidly declining means made us blind to discomfort. Be- 
 sides, there was a handsome Italian sailor at the inn, who 
 treated me with the greatest kindness, and to whom I took 
 a strong liking. He devoted himself to making me as com- 
 fortable as the place would allow, and in spite of our despe- 
 rate circumstances, his bright, honest, affectionate face made 
 me entirely happy. 
 
 About the old town of Civita Vecchia there is not much 
 to be said, except that it has the same little harbor which 
 Trajan dug for it, and is as dirty and disagreeable as a town 
 can well be. We saw nothing except a little church, and 
 the prison-yard, full of criminals, where the celebrated ban- 
 dit, Gasparoni, has been confined for eight years. 
 
 The Neapolitan Company's boat, Mongihello, was adver- 
 tised to leave on the 12th, so, after procuring our passports, 
 we went to the of&ce to take passage. The official, however, 
 refused to give us tickets for the third place, because, for- 
 sooth, we were not servants or common laborers ! and words 
 were wasted in trying to convince him that it would make 
 no difference. As the second cabin fare was nearly three 
 times as high, and would have exhausted all our money at 
 once, we went to the office of the Tuscan Company, whose 
 boat was to leave in two days. Through the influence of an 
 Italian gentleman, whom we accidentally met in the street, 
 the agent agreed to take us for forty-five francs, on deck, 
 the fare on the Neapolitan boat being thirty. 
 
 Eather than stay two days longer in the dull town, Ave 
 went again to the latter Company's office and offered forty- 
 five francs to go that day in their boat. This removed the 
 former scruples, and tickets were immediately made out. 
 
SLEEPING ON DECK. 435 
 
 After a plentifal dinner at tlie albergo, to prepare ourselves 
 for tlie exposure, we filled our pockets witli a supply of 
 bread, cheese, and figs, for tlie voyage. We then engaged . 
 a boatman, who agreed to row us out to the steamer for two 
 pauls, but after he had us on board and an oar's length from 
 the quay, he said two pauls apiece was his bargain. The 
 other boatmen took his part, and as our kind sailor friend 
 was not there, we were obliged to pay. 
 
 The hour of starting was two o'clock, but the boat lay 
 quietly in the harbor until four, when we glided out on the 
 open sea, and went northward, with the blue hills of Corsica 
 far on our left. A gorgeous sunset faded away over the 
 water, and the moon rose behind the low mountains of the 
 Italian coast. Having found a warm and sheltered place 
 near the chimney, I drew my hat further over my eyes, to 
 keep out the moonlight, and lay down on the deck with my 
 knapsack under my head. It was a hard bed, indeed ; and 
 the first time I attempted to rise, I found myself glued to 
 the floor by the pitch which was smeared along the seams 
 of the boards ! Our fellow-sufi'erers were a company of 
 Swiss soldiers going home after a four years' service under 
 the King of Naples, but they took to their situation more 
 easily than we. 
 
 Sleep was next to impossible, so I paced the deck occa- 
 sionally, looking out on the moonlit sea and the dim shores 
 on either side. A little after midnight we passed between 
 Elba and Corsica. The dark crags of Elba rose on our 
 right, and the bold headlands of Napoleon's isle stood oppo- 
 site, at perhaps twenty miles' distance. There was some- 
 thing dreary and mysterious in the scene, viewed at such a 
 
436 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 time — the grandeur of his career, who was born on one and 
 exiled to the other, gave it a strange and thrilling interest. 
 
 We made the light-house before the harbor of Leghorn at 
 dawn, and by sunrise were anchored within the mole. I sat 
 on the deck the whole day, watching the picturesque vessels 
 that skimmed about with their lateen sails, and wondering 
 how soon the sailors, on the deck of a Boston brig anchored 
 near us, would see my distant country. Leaving at four 
 o'clock we dashed away, along the mountain coast of Car- 
 rara, at a rapid rate. The wind was strong and cold, but I 
 lay down behind the boiler, and though the boards were as 
 hard as ever, slept two or three hours. When I awoke at 
 half-past two in the morning, after a short rest, Genoa was 
 close at hand. We glided between the two revolving lights 
 on the mole, into the harbor, with the amphitheatre on which 
 the superb city sits, dark and silent around us. It began 
 raining soon, the engine-fire sank down, and as there was 
 no place of shelter, we were shortly wet to the skin. How 
 long those dreary hours seemed, until the dawn came ! All 
 was cold and rainy and dark, and we waited in a kind of 
 torpid misery for daylight. I passed the entire day, sitting 
 in a coil of rope under the eaves of the cabin, and even the 
 beauties of the glorious city starce affected me. We lay 
 opposite the Doria palace, and the constellation of villas and 
 towers still glittered along the hills ; but who, with his teeth 
 chattering and limbs numb and damp, could feel pleasure in 
 looking on Elysium itself 1 
 
 We got under way again at three o'clock. The rain very 
 soon hid the coast from view, and the waves pitched our 
 boat about in a most violent and disagreeable manner. I 
 
A sailor's compassion. 437 
 
 goon experienced sea-sickness in all its horrors. We had 
 accidentally made tlie acquaintance of one of the sailors, a 
 swarthy Neapolitan, who had been in America. He was 
 one of those rough, honest natures which abound in his class 
 — tender-hearted as women, with all their rudeness and pro- 
 fanity. As we were standing by the chimney, wet, cold and 
 sick, reflecting dolefully hoAV we should pass the coming 
 night, he came up and said ; " I am in trouble about you, 
 poor fellows ! I don't think I shall sleep three hours to- 
 night, for thinking of you. I shall tell the officers to give 
 you beds. They should see you are gentlemen, and I will 
 tell them so !" The noble fellow was as good as his word. 
 I knew not what he said or did, but in half an hour a ser- 
 vant called us into the second cabin, gave us first some warm 
 soup, and then pointed out our berths. 
 
 I turned in with a feeling of relief not easily imagined, and 
 forgave the fleas willingly, in the comfort of a shelter from 
 the storm. "When I awoke, it was broad day. A fresh 
 breeze was drying the deck, and the sun was half-visible 
 among breaking clouds. We had just passed the Isle of the 
 Titan, one of the Isles des Hghes, and the bay of Toulon 
 opened on our right. It was a rugged, rocky coast, but the 
 hills of sunny Provence rose beyond. The sailor came up 
 with a smile of satisfaction on his rough countenance, shook 
 hands with us heartily, and said : " Ah, you slept last night, 
 I think ! I told the officers, every one of them, and they 
 would be cursed rascals not to give beds to you gentlemen !" 
 
 We ran along, beside the brown, bare crags, until nearly 
 noon, when we reached the eastern point of the Bay of Mar- 
 seilles. A group of small islands, formed of bare rocks, 
 
438 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 rising in precipices tliree or four hundred feet high, guards 
 the point ; on turning into the Gulf, Tve saw on the left the 
 rocky islands of Pomegues, and If, with the castle crowning 
 the latter, in which Mirabeau was confined. The ranges of 
 hills which rose around the great bay, were spotted and 
 sprinkled over with thousands of the country cottages of the 
 Marseilles merchants, called Bastides ; the city itself was 
 hidden from view. We saw. apparently the whole bay, but 
 there was no crowd of vessels, such as would befit a great 
 sea-port ; a few spires peeping over a hill, with some fortifi- 
 cations, were all that was visible. At length we turned 
 suddenly aside and entered a narrow strait, between two 
 forts. Immediately a broad harbor opened before us, locked 
 in the very heart of the hills on which the city stands. 
 It was covered with vessels of all nations ; on leaving the 
 boat, we rowed past the " Aristides," bearing the blue cross 
 of Grreece, and I searched eagerly and found, among the 
 crowded masts, the starry banner of America. 
 
 As we were preparing to go ashore, the servant who had 
 summoned us to the second cabin, and who had behaved 
 very civilly towards us, came up and bade us welcome to 
 Marseilles. I thanked him, whereupon the other servant, 
 who had not taken the least notice of us, laughed sneering- 
 ly. I have the former a two-franc piece for his courtesy, 
 which stopped the other's laugh at once. He came up very 
 respectfully, and began to make some polite remarks, which 
 I answered by turning my back on him and walking off. 
 We lodged in a neat little tavern, frequented by the Pro- 
 vencal teamsters, and found it a pleasant change from the 
 Italian inns. In the evening, as we were walking on the 
 
MARSEILLES. 439 
 
 quay, we were suddenly hailed by a cheerful voice. It was 
 the Neapolitan sailor, who greeted us with an oath of delight. 
 I thanked him once more for his kindness, but he answered, 
 bluntly : " Don't say anything more about it — I saw you 
 were gentlemen !" 
 
 I have rambled through all the principal parts of Mar- 
 seilles, and am very favorably impressed with its appear- 
 ance. Its cleanliness, and the air of life and business which 
 marks the streets, are the more pleasant after coming from 
 the dirty and depopulated Italian cities The broad avenues 
 lined with trees, which traverse its whole length, must be 
 delightful in summer. I am often reminded, by its spacious 
 and crowded thoroughfares, of our American cities. Al- 
 though founded by the Phoceans, three thousand years ago, 
 it has scarcely an edifice of greater antiquity than three* or 
 four centuries, and the tourist must content himself with 
 wandering through the narrow streets of the old town, ob- 
 serving the Provencal costumes, or strolling among Turks 
 and Moors on the Quai d' Orleans. 
 
 We have been detained here a day longer than was neces- 
 sary, owing to some misunderstanding about the passports. 
 This has not been favorable to our reduced circumstances, 
 for we have now but fifteen francs each left to take us to 
 Paris. Our boots, too, after serving us so long, begin to 
 show signs of failing in this hour of adversity. Although 
 we are somewhat accustomed to such circumstances, I cannot 
 help shrinking when I think of the solitary napoleon and 
 the five hundred miles to be travelled. Perhaps, however, 
 the coin will do as much as its great namesake, and achieve 
 for us a Marengo in the war with fate. 
 
CHAPTER XL. 
 
 THROUGH PROVENCE AND UP THE RHONE. 
 
 The Hills of Provence — Eainy Travel — A night at Afe — Provencal Scenery— The 
 Mother of Soldiers — Bivouac at Senas — ^The Valley of the Sorgues— Approach to 
 Vaucluse — The Fountain of Vaucluse — More Eain — A Gleam of Sunshine — A-oignon 
 — ffhe Blacksmith's Shop — Economical Travel — The Kindness of the Poor — Roman 
 Remains at Orange— Travel up the Ehone — A Soldier's Camp — Daybreak Scene — 
 Valence — The Ehone — A. Night at Vienne — Approach to Lyons— A Quandary- 
 Monsieur and Madame Ferrand- The Mistrust of Poverty— Experiences in Lyons 
 —Gloomy Days— Ze Oachoir— The Sixth Day— The Letter— A Plan to Borrow a Franc 
 — The Relief— Excitement — A Marvellous Change. 
 
 We left Marseilles about nine o'clock, on a dull, rainy morn- 
 ing, for Avignon and the Rhone, intending to take in our 
 waj the glen of Vaucluse. The divtj Jtmbourgs stretch out 
 along the road for a great distance, and we trudged through 
 them, past foundries, furnaces and manufactories, considera- 
 bly disheartened with the prospect. We wound among the 
 bleak stony hills, continually ascending, for nearly three 
 hours. Great numbers of cabarets, frequented by the com- 
 mon people, lined the roads, and we met continually trains 
 of heavily laden wagons, drawn by large mules. The coun- 
 try is very wild and barren, and would have been tiresome, 
 
RAINY TRAVEL. 441 
 
 except for tlie pine groves with tlieir beautiful green foliage. 
 We got something to eat with difficulty at an inn, for the 
 people spoke nothing but the Provengal dialect, and the place 
 was so cold and cheerless we were glad to go out again into 
 the storm. It mattered little to us, that we heard the lan- 
 guage in which the gay troubadours of King E,ene sang their 
 songs of love. We thought more of our dripping clothes 
 and numb, cold limbs, and would have been glad to hear in-, 
 stead, the strong, hearty German tongue, full of warmth and 
 kindly sympathy for the stranger. The wind swept dreari- 
 ly among the hills ; black, gusty clouds covered the sky, 
 and the incessant rain filled the road with muddy pools. We 
 looked at the country chateaux, so comfortable in the 
 midst of their sheltering poplars, with a sigh, and thought 
 of homes afar off, whose doors were never closed to us. 
 
 This was all forgotten, when we reached Aix, and the 
 hostess of the Cafe d'Afrique filled her little stove with fresh 
 coal, and hung our wet garments around it, while her daugh- 
 ter, a pale-faced, crippled child, smiled kindly on us and 
 tried to talk with us in French. Putting on our damp, heavy 
 
 coats again, B and I rambled through the streets, while 
 
 our frugal supper was preparing. We saw the statue of the 
 Bon Roi Rene, who held at Aix his court of shepherds 
 and troubadours — the dark Cathedral of St, Sauveur — the 
 ancient walls and battlements, and gazed down the valley 
 at the dark, precipitous mass of Mont St. Victor, at the base 
 of which Marius obtained a splendid victory over the bar- 
 barians. 
 
 The shallow, elevated valleys we passed in the forenoon's 
 walk next day, were stony and barren, but covered 
 19* 
 
442 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 witli large orchards of almond trees, the fruit of which 
 forms a considerable article of export. This district 
 borders on the desert of the Orau, a vast plain of stones, 
 reaching to the mouth of the Ehone, and almost entirely un- 
 inhabited. We caught occasional glimpses of its sea-like 
 waste, betAveen the summits of the hills. At length, after 
 threading a high ascent, we saw the valley of the Durance 
 suddenly below us. The sun, breaking through the clouds, 
 shone on the mountain wall, which stood on the opposite 
 side, touching with his glow the bare and rocky precipices 
 that frowned far above the stream. Descending to the 
 valley, we followed its course towards the Khone, '..ith the 
 ruins of feudal bourgs crowning the crags above us. 
 
 It was dusk, when we reached the village of Senas, tired 
 with the day's march. A landlord, standirg in his door, on 
 the look-out for customers, invited us to enter, in a manner 
 so polite and pressing, we could not choose but do so. This 
 is a universal custom with the country innkeepers. In a 
 little village which we passed towards evening, there was a 
 tavern with the sign : " The Mother of Soldiers^ A portly 
 woman, whose face beamed with kindness and cheerfulness, 
 stood in the door, and invited us to stop there for the night. 
 "No, mother!" I answered; "we must go much further 
 to-day." " Go, then," said she, " with good luck, my chil- 
 dren ! a pleasant journey !" On entering the inn at Senas, 
 two or three bronzed soldiers were sitting by the table. My 
 French vocabulary happening to give out in the middle of a 
 consultation about eggs and onion-soup, one of them came 
 to my assistance and addressed me in German. He was from 
 Fulda, in Hesse Oassel, and had served fifteen years in Africa 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE SORGUES. 443 
 
 Two other young soldiers, from the western border of Ger- 
 many, came during the evening, and one of them being part- 
 ly intoxicated, created such a tumult, that a quarrel arose, 
 which ended in his being beaten and turned out of the 
 house. We all bivouacked together in the loft, and there 
 was so much noise that I got very little sleep. We met 
 every day, large numbers of recruits in companies of 
 one or two hundred, on their way to Marseilles to em- 
 bark for Algiers. They were mostly youths, from sixteen 
 to twenty years of age, and seemed little to forebode their 
 probable fate. 
 
 Leaving next morning at day-break, we walked on before 
 breakfast to Orgon, a little village in the corner of the 
 cliifs which border the Durance, and crossed the muddy river 
 by a suspension bridge a short distance below, to Cavaillon, 
 where the country people were holdifig a great market. 
 From this place a road led across the meadow-land to L'Isle, 
 six miles distant. This little town is so named, because it 
 is situated on an island formed by the crystal Sorgues, 
 which flows from the fountains of Yaucluse. It is a very 
 picturesque and pretty place. Great mill-wheels, turning 
 slowly and constantly, stand at intervals in the stream, 
 whose grassy banks are now as green as in spring-time. We 
 walked along the Sorgues, which is quite as beautiful and 
 worthy to be sung as the Clitumnus, to the end of the vil- 
 lage, to take the road to Vaucluse. Beside its banks stands 
 a dirty, modern " Hotel de Petrarque et Laure." 
 
 The bare mountain in whose heart lies the poet's solitude, 
 now rose before us, at the foot of the lofty Mont Yentoux, 
 whose summit of snows extended beyond. We left the 
 
444 VIEWS A-rooT. 
 
 river and walked over a barren plain, across which the wind 
 blew most drearily. The sky was rainy and dark, and com- 
 pleted the desolateness of the scene, which in no wise 
 heightened our anticipations of the renowned glen. At 
 length we rejoined the Sorgues and entered a little green 
 valley running up into the mountain. The narrowness of 
 the entrance entirely shut out the wind, and except the roll- 
 ing of the waters over their pebbly bed, all was still and 
 lonely and beautiful. The sides of the dell were covered 
 with olive trees, and a narrow strip of emerald meadow lay 
 at the bottom. It grew more hidden and sequestered as we 
 approached the little village of Vaucluse. Here, the moun- 
 tain towers far above, and precipices of grey rock, many 
 hundred feet high, hang over the narrowing glen. On a 
 crag over the village are the remains of a castle ; the slope 
 below this, now rugged and stony, was once graced by the 
 cottage and garden of Petrarch. All traces of them have 
 long since vanished, but a simple column, bearing the in- 
 scription, *' A Petrarque," stands beside the Sorgues. 
 
 We ascended into the defile by a path among the rocks, 
 overshadowed by olive and wild-fig trees, to the celebrated 
 fountains of Vaucluse. The glen seems as if struck into the 
 mountain's depths by one blow of an enchanter's wand ; and 
 just at the end, where the rod might have rested in its down- 
 ward sweep, is the fathomless well whose overbrimming ful- 
 ness gives birth to the Sorgues. We climbed up over the 
 mossy rocks and sat down in the grot, beside the dark, still 
 pool. It was the most absolute solitude. The rocks 
 towered above and over us, to the height of six hundred 
 feet, and the gray walls of the wild glen below shut out all 
 
THE FOUNTAIN OF VAUCLUSE. 445 
 
 appearance- of life. I leaned over the rock and drank of the 
 blue crystal that grew gradually darker towards the centre, 
 until it became a mirror, and gave back a perfect reflection 
 of the crags above it. There was no bubbling — no gushing 
 up from its deep bosom — but the wealth of sparkling waters 
 continually welled over, as from a too-full goblet. 
 
 It was with actual sorrow that I turned away from the 
 silent spot. I never visited a place to which the fancy clung 
 more suddenly and fondly. There is something holy in its 
 solitude, making one envy Petrarch the years of calm and 
 unsullied enjoyment which blessed him there. As some 
 persons, whom we pass as strangers, strike a hidden chord 
 in our spirits, compelling a silent sympathy with them, so 
 some landscapes have a character of beauty Avhich harmo- 
 nizes entirely with the mood in which we look upon them, 
 until we forget admiration in the glow of spontaneous attach- 
 ment. They seem like abodes of the Beautiful, which the 
 soul in its wanderings long ago visited, and now recognises 
 and loves as the home of a forgotten dream. It was thus I 
 felt by the fountains of Yaucluse ; sadly and with weary 
 steps I turned away, leaving its loneliness unbroken as 
 before. 
 
 We returned over the plain in the wind, under the gloomy 
 sky, passed LTsle at dusk, and after walking an hour with 
 a rain following close behind us, stopped at an auherge in Le 
 Thor, where we rested our tired frames and broke our long 
 day's fasting. We were greeted in the morning with a dis- 
 mal rain and wet roads, as we began the march. After a 
 time, however, it poured down in such torrents, that we were 
 obliged to take shelter in a remise by the road-side, where a 
 
446 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 good woman wlio addressed us in the unintelligible Proven- 
 gal, kindled up a blazing fire to dry us. -On climbing a long 
 hill, when the storm had abated, we experienced a delight- 
 ful surprise. Below us lay the broad valley of the Rhone, 
 its meadows looking fresh and spring-like after the rain. The 
 clouds were breaking away ; clear blue sky was visible over 
 Avignon, and a belt of sunlight lay warmly along the moun- 
 tains of Languedoc. Many villages, with their tall, pictur- 
 esque towers, dotted the landscape, and the groves of green 
 olive enlivened the barrenness of winter. Two or three 
 hours' walk over the plain, by a road fringed with willows, 
 brought us to the gates of Avignon. 
 
 We walked around its picturesque turreted wall, and 
 rambled through its narrow streets, washed here and there 
 by streams which turn the old mill-wheels lazily around. 
 We climbed to the massive palace, which overlooks the city 
 from its craggy seat, attesting the splendor it enjoyed, when 
 for thirty years the Papal Court was held there, and the 
 gray, weather-beaten, irregular building, resembling a pile 
 of precipitous rocks, echoed with the revels of licentious pre- 
 lates. We could not enter to learn the terrible secrets of 
 the Inquisition, here unveiled, but we looked up at the tow- 
 er, from which the captive Rienzi was liberated at the inter- 
 cession of Petrarch. 
 
 After leaving Avignon, we took the road up the Ehone 
 for Lyons, turning our backs upon the rainy South. We 
 reached the village of Sorgues by dusk, and accepted the 
 invitation of an old dame to lodge at her inn, which proved 
 to be a blacksmith's shop ! It was nevertheless clean and 
 comfortable, and we sat down in one corner, out of the reach 
 
TRAVELLING UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 44*7 
 
 of the showers of sparks, whicli flew hissing from a red-hot 
 horse-shoe, which the smith and his apprentice were hammer- 
 ing. A Piedmontese pedlar, who carried the " Song of the 
 Holy St. Philomene" to sell among the peasants, came in 
 directly, and bargained for a sleep on some hay, for two sons. 
 For a bed in the loft over the shop, we were charged five 
 sous each, which, with seven sous for supper, made our ex- 
 penses for the night about eleven cents ! Our circumstances 
 demanded the greatest economy, and we began to fear 
 whether even this spare allowance would enable us to reach 
 Lyons. Owing to a day's delay in Marseilles, we had left 
 that city with but fifteen francs each ; the incessant storms 
 of winter and the worn-out state of our shoes, which were 
 no longer proof against water or mud, prolonged our jour- 
 ney considerably, so that by starting before dawn and walk- 
 ing until dark, we were only able to make thirty miles a 
 day. We could always procure beds for five sous, and as 
 in the country inns one is only charged for what he chooses 
 to order, our frugal suppers cost us but little. We purchas- 
 ed bread and cheese in the villages, and made our breakfasts 
 and dinners on a bank by the roadside, or climbed the rocks 
 and sat down by the source of some trickling rill. This 
 simple fare had an excellent relish, and although we walked 
 in wet clothes from morning till night, often lying down on 
 the damp, cold earth to rest, our health Avas never affected. 
 It is worth all the toil and privation we have as yet under- 
 gone, to gain, from actual experience, the blessed knowledge 
 that man always retains a kindness and brotherly sympathy 
 towards his fellow — that under all the weight of vice and 
 misery which a grinding oppression oi soul and body brings 
 
448 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 on tlie laborers of earth, there still remain many bright 
 tokens of a better nature. Among the starving mountaineers 
 of the Hartz — the degraded peasantry of Bohemia — the 
 savage contadini oi Centrdl Italy, or the dwellers on the hills 
 of Provence and beside the swift Ehone, we almost invaria- 
 bly found kind, honest hearts, and an aspiration for some- 
 thing better, betokening the consciousness that such brute- 
 like, obedient existence was not their proper destiny. We 
 found few so hardened as to be insensible to a kind look or a 
 friendly word, and nothing made us forget we were among 
 strangers so much as the many tokens of sympathy which 
 met us when least looked for. A young Englishman, who 
 had travelled on foot from Geneva to Home, enduring many 
 privations on account of his reduced circumstances, said to 
 me, while speaking on this subject : "A single word of kind- 
 ness from a stranger would make my heart warm, and my 
 spirits cheerful, for days afterwards." There is not so much 
 evil in man as men would have us believe ; and it is a happy 
 comfort to know and feel this. 
 
 Leaving our little inn before day-break the next morning, 
 we crossed the Sorgues, grown muddy since its infancy at 
 Vaucluse. The road passed over broad, barren ranges of 
 hills, and the landscape was destitute of all interest, until we 
 approached Orange. This city is built at the foot of a rocky 
 height, a great square projection of which seemed to stand in 
 its midst. As we approached nearer, however, arches and 
 lines of cornice could be discerned, and Ave recognised it as 
 the celebrated amphitheatre, one of the grandest E-oman 
 relics in the south of France. 
 
 1 stood at the foot of this great fabric, and gazed up at it 
 
UP THE RHONE. 449 
 
 in astonishment. The exterior wall, three hundred and 
 thirty-four feet in length, and rising to the height of one 
 hundred and twenty -one feet, is still in excellent preserva- 
 tion, and through its rows of solid arches one looks on the 
 broken ranges of seats within. Passing through the city, we 
 came to the beautiful Roman triumphal arch, which to my eye 
 is a finer structure than that of Constantine at Rome. It is 
 built of a rich yellow marble, and highly ornamented with 
 sculptured trophies. From the barbaric shields and the letters 
 Mario, still remaining, it has been supposed to commemorate 
 the victory of Marius over the barbarians, near Aix. 
 
 For the rest of the day the road was monotonous, though 
 varied somewhat by the tall crags of Mornas and Mont- 
 dragon, towering over the villages of the same name. Night 
 came on as the rock of Pierrelatte, at whose foot we were to 
 sleep, appeared in the distance, rising like a Gibraltar from 
 the plain, and we only reached it in time to escape the rain 
 that came down the valley of the Rhone. Next day we 
 passed several companies of soldiers on their way to Africa. 
 Near Montelimart, we lost sight of Mont Yentoux, whose 
 gleaming white crest had been visible all the way from Vau- 
 cluse, and passed along the base of a range of hills running 
 near to the river. So went our march, without particular 
 incident, until we bivouacked for the night among a company 
 of soldiers in the little village of Loriol. They were steady, 
 merry fellows, and we fraternized thoroughly. We were all 
 tired with the day's journey, and the loft, which was our 
 common sleeping-room, was quiet enough in five minutes 
 after we went to bed. 
 
 Leaving at six o'clock, wakened by the trumpets which 
 
450 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 called up tlie soldiers to their day's march, we reached the 
 river Drome at dawn, and from the bridge over its rapid 
 current, gazed at the dim, ash-colored masses of the Alps of 
 Dauphine, piled along the sky, far up the vallev. The 
 coming of morn threw a yellow glow along their snowy sides, 
 and lighted up, here and there, a flashing glacier. The 
 peasantry were already up and at work, and caravans of 
 pack-wagons rumbled along in the morning twilight. We 
 trudged on with them, and by breakfast-time had made 
 some distance of the way to Valence. The road, which does 
 not approach the Rhone, is devoid of interest and tiresome, 
 though under a summer sky, when the bare vine-hills are 
 latticed over with green, and the fruit-trees covered with 
 blossoms and foliage, it may be a scene of great beauty. 
 
 Valence, which we reached towards noon, is a common- 
 place city on the Rhone ] and my only reasons for traversing 
 its dirty streets in preference to taking the road, which passes 
 without the walls, were — to get something for dinner, and 
 because it might have been the birth-place of Aymer de 
 Valence, the valorous Crusader, chronicled in " Ivanhoe," 
 whose tomb I had seen in Westminster Abbey. One of the 
 streets, which was marked " Rue Bayard," shows that my 
 valiant namesake — the knight without fear and reproach — is 
 still remembered in his native province. The ruins of his 
 chateau are still standing among the Alps near Grrenoble. 
 
 In the afternoon we crossed the Isere, a swift, muddy 
 river, which rises among the Alps of Dauphine. We saw 
 their icy range, among which is the desert solitude of the 
 Grand Chartreuse, far up the valley ; but the thick atmo- 
 sphere hid the mighty Mont Blanc, whose cloudy outline, 
 
VIENNE. 451 
 
 elglitj^ miles distant in a bee line, is visible in fair weather. 
 At Tain, we came upon the Ehone again, and walked along 
 the base of the hills which contract its current. Here, I 
 should call it beautiful. The scenery has a wildness that 
 approaches to that of the Rhine. Winding around the 
 curving hills, the scene is constantly varied, and the little 
 willowed islets clasped in the embrace of the stream, mingle 
 a trait of softened beauty with its sterner character. 
 
 After passing the night at a village on its banks, we left it 
 again at St. Vallier, the next morning. At sunset, the spires 
 of Vienne were visible, and the lofty Mont Pilas, the snows 
 of whose riven summits feed the springs of the Loire on its 
 western side, stretched majestically along the opposite bank 
 of the Rhone. Vienne, which is mentioned by several of 
 the Roman historians under its present name, was the capital 
 of the Allobroges, and I looked upon it with a new and 
 strange interest, on calling to mind my school-boy days, 
 when I had become familiar with that warlike race, in toil- 
 ing over the pages of Caesar. We walked in the mud and 
 darkness for what seemed a great distance, and finally took 
 shelter in a little inn at the northern end of the city. Two 
 Belgian soldiers, coming from Africa, were already quartered 
 there, and we listened to their tales of the Arab and the 
 Desert, while supper was preparing. 
 
 The morning of the 25th was dull and rainy ; the road, 
 very muddy and unpleasant, led over the hills, avoiding the 
 westward curve of the Rhone, directly towards Lyons. About 
 noon, we came in sight of the broad valley in which the 
 Rhone first clasps his Burgundian bride, the Saone, and a 
 cloud of impenetrable coal-smoke showed us the location of 
 
452 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 Lyons. A nearer approacli revealed a large flat dome, and 
 some ranges of tall buildings near tlie river. We soon en- 
 tered the suburb of La Guillotiere, which has sprung up on 
 the eastern bank of the Ehone. Notwithstanding our clothes 
 were like sponges, our boots entirely worn out, and our 
 bodies somewhat thin with nine days' exposure to the wintry 
 storms in walking two hundred and forty miles, we entered 
 Lyons with suspense and anxiety. But one franc apiece 
 remained out of the fifteen with which we left Marseilles. 
 
 B wrote home some time ago, directing a remittance to 
 
 be forwarded to a merchant at Paris, to whom he had a 
 letter of introduction, and in the hope that this had arrived, 
 he determined to enclose the letter in a note, stating our 
 circumstances, and requesting the merchant to forward a 
 part of the remittance to Lyons. We had then to wait at 
 least four days; people are suspicious and mistrustful in 
 cities, and if no relief should come, what was to be done ? 
 
 After wading througli the mud of the suburbs, we chose 
 a common-looking inn near the river, as the comfort of our 
 stay depended wholly on the kindness of our hosts, and our 
 experiences had taught us that there is most genuine kind- 
 ness among the poorer classes. We engaged lodgings for 
 four or five days ; after dinner the letter was dispatched, and 
 we wandered about through the dark, dirty city until night. 
 Our landlord, Monsieur Ferrand, was a rough, vigorous 
 man, with a gloomy, discontented expression ; his words 
 were few and blunt ; but a certain restlessness of manner, 
 and a secret flashing of his cold, forbidding eye, betrayed to 
 me some strong hidden excitement. Madam^e Ferrand was 
 kind and talkative, though passionate ; but the appearance 
 
A MISTRUSTFUL LAKDLORD. 453 
 
 of the place gave me an unfavorable impression, -vrliieli was 
 lieightenecl by the thonglit that it was now impossible to 
 change our lodgings until relief should arrive. When bed- 
 time came, a ladder was placed against a sort of high plat- 
 form along one side of the kitchen ; we mounted and found 
 a bed, concealed from the view of those below by a dusty 
 muslin curtain. We lay there, between heaven and earth — 
 the dirty earth of the brick floor and the sooty heaven of 
 the ceiling — listening until midnight to the boisterous songs, 
 and loud, angry disputes in the room adjoining. Thus ended 
 our first day in Lyons. 
 
 Five weary days, each of them containing a month of 
 torturing suspense, succeeded. A man who has no mcney 
 in his pocket soon begins to suspect that he is a vagabond, 
 and fears that he shall be found out. I believe Monsieur Fer- 
 rand mistrusted us from the beginning. One night, when 
 he thought us asleep, he carefully felt our knapsacks, which 
 Madame Ferrand kept at the head of her bed, just under 
 our platform. I had a small pocket telescope, which he at 
 first took for a roll of five-franc pieces, but after much feel- 
 ing decided that it was something else. I lay awake nearly 
 all night, trying to devise some plan of relief, in case no 
 money should come, but could think of nothing that was at 
 all practicable. In order to account for our stay, we pre- 
 tended to have business in the city, so we wandered all day 
 long through the misty, muddy, smoky streets, taking refuge 
 in the covered bazaars when it rained heavily. We walked 
 so incessantly up and down the same streets, that the market- 
 women knew us, and made their daily comments when we 
 appeared. The policemen knew us, too, and some of them 
 
454 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 (so we thought) watched us. I soon became intimately ac- 
 quainted with every part of Lyons, from Tresqu' isle Per- 
 raclie to Croix Rousse. I knew the contents of every shop 
 in the Bazaar, and the passage of the Hotel Dieu — the title 
 of every volume in the bookstores in the Place Belcour — 
 and the countenance of every boot-black and apple woman 
 on the Quais on both sides of the river. 
 
 It rained every day, and the sun was not once visible. 
 The gloom of everything around us, entirely smothered 
 that lightness of heart which made us laugh over our em- 
 barrassments at Vienna. When at evening, the dull, leaden 
 hue of the clouds seemed to make the air dark and cold 
 and heavy, we walked beside the swollen and turbid Ehone, 
 under an avenue of leafless trees, the damp soil chilling our 
 feet and striking a numbness through our frames, and then 
 I knew what those must feel who have no hope in their des- 
 titution, and not a friend in all the great world, who is not 
 as wretched as themselves. One night, as we were pacing 
 dismally along the Ehone, a man who was walking before 
 us, kept saying to himself: " le cacJiot ! lecachot l" (the dun- 
 geon.) *' Yes," said I, involuntarily, " we shall have either 
 the cash O ! or the cachoU before long." The man turned 
 around, shrugged his shoulders, gave a curious spring into 
 the air, snapped his fingers two or three times, and then ran 
 off, still exclaiming : " le cachot ! le cachet ./" 
 
 On the morning of the sixth day I said to B , " this 
 
 morning will terminate our suspense." I felt cheerful in 
 spite of myself; and this was like a -presentiment of coming 
 good-luck. To pass the time until nine o'clock, when the 
 Post Office was opened, I climbed to the chapel of Fourvieres, 
 
A. PLAN TO BORROW A FRANC. 4:55 
 
 on the western bank of the Saone. But at the precise min- 
 ute I was at the office, where B was already in waiting. 
 
 What an intensity of suspense was crowded into those few 
 seconds, while the clerk was looking over the letters ! What 
 an electric shock of joy, when it came at last ! But the 
 postage was fourteen sous, and we had not a centime. The 
 clerk put the letter back again. Hope was more suggestive 
 than anxiety, and I instantly hit npon a plan for getting it. 
 " You know that I went out first this morning," I said to my 
 friend, " and Madame Ferrand knows it too. Go back and 
 ask if I have returned. Of course, she will say * no.' 
 Then tell her that I carry our common stock of money, (!) 
 that you don't know where I have gone, that there is 
 a letter in the office for you, and you can't get it. Ask 
 her to lend you a franc until you find me, when I will 
 repay it." 
 
 This was a desperate experiment, for there might be no 
 money in the letter after we got it, in which case we should 
 only have added to our difficulties. I paced up and down 
 
 the square, until B returned with the franc, my plan 
 
 having succeeded. It required a deal of courage to break 
 the seal, but then, thank God ! our suspense was over. 
 The remittance from home had reached the merchant only 
 
 the day before he received B 's letter, and he enclosed 
 
 an order for part of the money on his correspondent in 
 Lyons. This providential relief gave rise to an overpower- 
 ing revulsion of feeling. For my part, my nerves were 
 strung to such a pitch that — not knowing what else to do, — 
 I walked up to the statue of Louis XIV. in the middle of 
 the square, seized with both hands the heavy iron railing 
 
456 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 wliicli surrounds it, and pulled until I expected to see the 
 raUs give way. 
 
 After getting the money, the first thing we did (so weak is 
 human nature !) was to step into a pastry-cook's and pur- 
 chase two delicate cheese-cakes, which we had heen examin- 
 ing with hungry eyes, for five days. The market-women in 
 the square, who knew us too well, saw this unusual action, 
 and shouted with laughter. But nothing disturbed us, for 
 all mankind was changed in our eyes. The policemen 
 looked at us with calm confidence ; the cold and suspicious 
 faces of the crowd had suddenly become kind and cheerful. 
 Our own faces, too, must have shown a change, for when 
 we returned to the inn Madame Ferrand met us with a 
 friendly smile, and prepared us a much better dinner than 
 we had had before. In the afternoon we purchased new 
 shoes at a small shop in the suburbs. I gave the cobbler 
 my old pair, which he instantly flung into the street, with 
 the exclamation : " lis ne valent jpas un sous, Monsieur ^" 
 
CHAPTEE XLl. 
 
 THE JOURNEY TO PARIS. 
 
 The Pleasure of Rest— Leaving Lyons — Yoyage up the Saone— An Inundation— The 
 Strolling Musicians and their Child— "Walking in Burgundy— The Upland Region 
 —A Drenching Storm— Slow Ride to Auxerre — Miseries of a Country Diligence — 
 The Bloody Seine— Arrival at Paris— Getting a Draft Paid— Seeing Paris perforce — 
 Letters from Home. 
 
 Paris, February 6, 1846. 
 Every letter of the date is traced with an emotion of joy, 
 for our dreary journey is at an end. There was a magic in 
 the name that revived us during anxious days, and now the 
 thought that it is all over — that these walls which inclose 
 us, stand in the heart of the gay city — seems almost too 
 joyful to be true. Yesterday I marked with the whitest 
 chalk, for I got out of the cramped diligence at the Barriere 
 de Charenton, and saw before me in the morning twilight, 
 the immense grey mass of Paris. I forgot my numbed and 
 stiffened frame, and every other of the thousand disagreea- 
 ble feelings of diligence travelling, in the pleasure which 
 that sight afforded. 
 
 We arose in the dark at Lyons, and after bidding adieu to 
 20 
 
468 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 morose Monsieur Ferrand, traversed tlie silent city, and found 
 our way in the mist and gloom to the steamboat landing on 
 the Saone. The waters were swollen much above their 
 usual level, which was favorable for the boat, as long as 
 there was room enough left to pass under the bridges. 
 After a great deal of bustle we got under way, and were 
 dashing out of Lyons, against the swift current, before day- 
 break. We passed JWIsle Barbe, once a favorite residence 
 of Charlemagne, and now the haunt of the Lyonnaise on 
 summer holidays, and going under the suspension bridges 
 with levelled smoke-stacks, entered the picturesque hills 
 above, which are covered with vineyards nearly to the jtop ; 
 the villages scattered over them have those square, pointed 
 towers, which give such a quaintness to French country 
 scenery. 
 
 The stream being very high, the meadows on both sides 
 were deeply overflowed. To avoid the strong current in the 
 centre, our boat ran along the banks, pushing aside the 
 alder thickets and poplar shoots. A little after noon, we 
 passed the large town of Macon, the birth-place of the poet 
 Lamartine. The valley of the Saone, no longer inclosed 
 among the hills, spread out to several miles in width. Along 
 the west lay in sunshine the vine-mountains of Cote d'Or ; 
 among the dark clouds in the eastern sky, we could barely ' 
 distinguish the outline of the Jura. The waters were so 
 much swollen as to cover the plain for two or three miles. We 
 seemed to be sailing over a lake, with rows of trees spring- 
 ing up out of the water, and houses and villages lying like 
 islands on its surface. A sunset that promised better weather 
 tinged the broad brown flood, as Chalons came in sight. We 
 
STROLLING MUSICIANS AND THEIR CHILD. 459 
 
 squeezed througli the crowd of porters and diligence men, 
 declining their kind offers, and hunted quarters to suit 
 ourselves. 
 
 "We left Chalons on the morning of the 1st, in high spirits 
 at the thought that there were but little more than two hun- 
 dred miles between us and Paris. In walking over the cold, 
 muddy plain, we passed a family of strolling musicians, who 
 were sitting on a heap of stones by the roadside. An ill- 
 dressed, ill-natured man and woman, each carrying a violin, 
 and a thin, squalid girl, with a tambourine, composed the 
 group. Their faces bore that unfeeling stamp, which springs 
 from depravity and degradation. When we had walked 
 somewhat more than a mile, we overtook a little girl, who 
 was crying bitterly. By her features, from which the fresh 
 beauty of childhood had not been worn, and the steel triangle 
 which was tied to her belt, we knew that she belonged to 
 the family we had passed. Her dress was thin and ragged, 
 and a pair of wooden shoes but ill protected her feet from 
 the sharp cold. I stopped and asked her why she cried, but 
 she did not at first answer. However, by questioning, I 
 found her unfeeling parents had sent her on without food ; 
 she was sobbing with hunger and cold. Our pockets were 
 full of bread and cheese which we had bought for breakfast, 
 and we gave her half a loaf, which stopped her tears at 
 once. She looked up and thanked us, smiling ; and sitting 
 down on a bank, began to eat as if half famished. 
 
 The physiognomy of this region is very singular. The 
 country seems to have originally been a vast elevated plain, 
 in which some great power has scooped out, as with a hand, 
 deep circular valleys all over its surface. In winding along 
 
460 VIEWS A-FOOT 
 
 the high ridges, Ave often looked down, on either side, into 
 such hollows, several miles in diameter, and sometimes en- 
 tirely covered with vineyards. At La Eochepot, a quaint, 
 antique village, lying in the bottom of one of these dells, we 
 saw the finest ruin of the middle ages that I have met with 
 in France. We passed the night at Ivry (not the Ivry which 
 gained Henri Quatre his kingdom), and then continued our 
 march over roads which I can only compare to our country 
 roads in America during the spring thaw. In addition to 
 this, the rain commenced early in the morning and continued 
 all day, so that we were completely wet the whole time. 
 The plains, too high and cold to produce wine, were varied 
 by forests of beech and oak, and the population was thinly 
 scattered over them in small villages. Travellers generally 
 complain very much of the monotomy of this part of 
 France, and, with such dreary weather, we could not dis- 
 agree with them. 
 
 As the day wore on, the rain increased, and the sky put 
 on that dull, gray cast, which denotes a lengthened storm. 
 We were fain to stop at nightfall, but there was no inn near 
 at hand — not even a hovel of a cabaret in which to shelter 
 ourselves, and, on inquiring of the wagoners, we received 
 the comfortable assurance that there was yet a league and a 
 half to the nearest stopping place. On, then, we went, with the 
 pitiless storm beating in our faces and on our breasts, until 
 there was not a dry spot left, except what our knapsacks 
 covered. We could not have been more completely satu- 
 rated if we had been dipped in the Yonne. At length, 
 after two hours of slipping and sliding along in the mud 
 and wet and darkness, we reached Saulieu, and by the 
 
MISERIES OF A COUNTRY DILIGENCE. 461 
 
 warm fire, thanked our stars that the day's dismal tramp 
 was over. 
 
 By good or bad luck (I have not decided which) a vehicle 
 was to start the next morning for Auxerre, distant sixty 
 miles, and the fare being but five francs, we thought it wisest 
 to take places. It was always with reluctance that we de- 
 parted from our usual mode of travelling, but, in the present 
 instance, the circumstances absolutely compelled it. 
 
 Next morning, at sunrise, we took our seats in a large 
 square vehicle on two wheels, calculated for six persons and 
 a driver, with a single horse. But, as he was fat and round 
 as an elephant, and started off at a brisk pace, and we were 
 well protected from the rain, it was not so bad after all, 
 barring the jolts and jarred vertebrae. We drove on, over 
 the same dreary expanse of plain and forest, passing through 
 two or three towns in the course of the day, and by evening 
 had made somewhat more than half our journey. Owing to 
 the slowness of our fresh horse, we were jolted about the 
 whole night, and did not arrive at Auxerre until six o'clock 
 in the morning. After waiting an hour in a hotel beside the 
 rushing Yonne, a lumbering diligence was got ready, and we 
 were offered places to Paris for seven francs. As the dis- 
 tance is one hundred and ten miles, this would be considered 
 cheap fare, but I should not want to travel it again and be 
 paid for doing so. Twelve persons were packed into a box 
 not large enough for a cow, and no joiner ever dove-tailed 
 his corners tighter than did we our knees and nether extre- 
 mities. It is my lot to be blessed with abundance of stature, 
 and none but tall persons can appreciate the misery of sitting 
 for hours with their joints in an immovable vice. The close- 
 
462 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 ness of the atmosphere — -for the passengers would not permit 
 the windows to be opened for fear of taking cold — combined 
 with loss of sleep, made me so drowsy that my head was 
 continually falling on my next neighbor, who, being a heavy 
 country lady, thrust it indignantly away. I would then try 
 my best to keep it up awhile, but it would droop gradually, 
 until the crush of a bonnet or a smart bump against some 
 other head would recall me, for a moment, to consciousness. 
 
 We passed Joigny, on the Yonne, Sens, vrith its glorious 
 old cathedral, and at dusk reached Montereau, on the Seine. 
 This was the scene of one of Napoleon's best victories, on 
 his return from Elba. In driving over the bridge, I looked 
 down on the s^ift and swollen cuiTcnt, and hoped that its 
 hue might never be darkened again so fearfully as the last 
 sixty years have witnessed. No river in Europe has such 
 an association connected with it. We think of the Danube, 
 for its majesty, of the Rhine, for its wild beauty, but of the 
 Seine — for its blood ! All that night did we endure squeez- 
 ing and suffocation, and no morn was ever more welcome 
 than that which revealed to us Paris. With matted hah*, 
 wild, glaring eyes, and dusty and disordered clothes, we en- 
 tered the gay capital, and blessed every stone upon which 
 we placed our feet, in the fulness of our joy. 
 
 In paying our fare at Auxerre, I was obliged to use a draft 
 on the banker, Eougemont de Lowenberg. The ignorant 
 conductor hesitated to change this, but permitted us to go, 
 on condition of keeping it until we should arrive. There- 
 fore, on getting out of the diligence, after forty-eight hours 
 of sleepless and fasting misery, the facteur of the office went 
 with me to get it paid, leaving B to wait for us. I knew 
 
SEEING PARIS PERFORCE. 463 
 
 nothing of Paris, and this merciless man kept me for three 
 hours at his heels, following him on all Jiis errands, before 
 he did mine, in that time traversing the whole length of the 
 city, in order to leave a haunch of venison at an aristocratic 
 residence in the Faubourg St. Germain. Yet even combined 
 weariness and hunger could not prevent me from looking 
 with vivid interest down a long avenue, at the Column of 
 the Place Vendome, in passing, and gazing up in wonder at 
 the splendid portico of the Madeleine. But of anything else 
 I have a very faint remembrance. " You have an appetite 
 for breakfast, now, I should think;" said he, when he re- 
 turned, *' we have Avalked more than four leagues !" 
 
 About noon we sat doAvn quietly to a most complete break- 
 fast. Our first walk was to a bath, and then, with com- 
 plexions several shades lighter, and limbs that felt as if lifted 
 by invisible wings, we hurried away to the Post Office. I 
 seized the welcome missives from my far home, with a beat- 
 ing heart, and hastening back, read until the words became 
 indistinct in the twilight. 
 
CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 LIFE IN PARIS. 
 
 Eooms to Let — ^A disappointed Landlord — Our Apartment, ch&z Lambert— lA\\xig on 
 a Franc a Day — Amusements — The Streets of Paris — The Place de la Concorde— 
 The Hotel des Invalides — The Garden of the Tuileries — What we saw— The Ameri- 
 can Minister — An Experience of Suicide— Empty Pockets again — The S'.ck Mer- 
 chant—Lying in Wait — The Relief— I Determine to visit London. 
 
 Our first care on reaching Paris, was to find cheap quar- 
 ters, for we had a residence of at least two months in pros- 
 pect, and the remittance which my friend had received 
 consisted of two hundred and eighty francs only. The inn, 
 to which we had been taken by the mercilessycc^e?<r, was a 
 dingy place, somewhere in the Faubourg St. Antoine, fre- 
 quented by Burgundian teamsters, and for the gloomy room 
 we occupied the hard-visaged landlord demanded thirty 
 francs a month. We sallied out the next morning, and after 
 inspecting a number of *' chambres a louer,'" finally found a 
 little room at the top of a tall house in the Eue de la Harpe, 
 *' chez Lambert, Coiffeur," for twelve francs a month, and 
 instantly engaged it. The Burgundian landlord thought he 
 had us, and was so vexed that we had slipped through his 
 
OUR APARTMENT. 465 
 
 fingers, that lie charged us enormously for the few meals we 
 had had, and refused to give us our passports until we had 
 paid him. Not content with this, he assailed us with a 
 variety of coarse epithets, which I, who was boiling over 
 with rage, repaid with ironical politeness, only yielding so 
 far as to say *^ adieu, vieux diahle T' — the worst French I 
 knew — when we left. 
 
 Our new abode was a box, rather than a room. We were 
 obliged to pass through M. Lambert's hair-dressing room, 
 then through Madame Lambert's apartment, then to mount ' 
 four flights of steep old stairs, with very dark landing-places 
 between, after which we reached the topmost story, in which 
 was our room, containing a small single bed, two chairs, a 
 table, a washstand, and a diminutive mirror. There was 
 neither stove nor fire-place, and the only window faced the 
 north, giving us a prospect of tiled roofs and chimneys. It 
 was a bleak little den, but it seemed delightful after our 
 experience in Lyons, and the only thing that embarrassed 
 us was the excessive politeness of Monsieur and Madame 
 Lambert, which seemed misapplied to persons in our cir- 
 cumstances. There was another lodger — a pale young man 
 from Gascony, who was consumptive, and a hater of Louis 
 Philippe : he was very bitter and cynical, and we did not 
 cultivate his acquaintance. 
 
 Our wardrobe was by this time in such a dilapidated con- 
 dition, that we found it necessary to make various pur- 
 chases, which consumed so much of our funds that we 
 determined at the outset to spend no more than a franc a 
 day each, for our meals. After a number of experiments, 
 20* 
 
466 VIEWS A-FOOT, 
 
 we discovered a cafe near the Pantheon, where it was pos- 
 sible to get a large bowl of coffee (chicory), with a roll, for 
 six sous ; a restaurant in the E-ue de la Harpe furnished us 
 with soup, " unplat " and " marmalade d' abricots,'' for twelve 
 sous ; and we invested the remaining two sous in rolls and a 
 kind of fish-cake, which we purchased at the stands on the 
 quay where they were baked, and ate in the privacy of our 
 room. Our dinners, it is true, were so disguised that the 
 original materials were not always to be ascertained, and 
 our favorite " hoeuf provcngal " had a flavor very suggestive 
 of horse-flesh, but there was always enough to satisfy 
 hunger, and we were content. We could not afford the 
 luxury of a French teacher, but we subscribed to a circu- 
 lating library for two francs a month, and read Victor Hugo 
 and Theophile Gautier, until we became chill and numb in 
 our fireless room, when we w^ould go forth into the streets 
 and extend our acquaintance with that out-door Parisian 
 life which is always fresh and entertaining. 
 
 What a lively little world in miniature it is ! I wonder 
 not that the French, with their exuberant gaiety of spirit, 
 should revel in its ceaseless tides of pleasure, as if it were 
 an earthly Elysium. I soon felt the influence of the cheer- 
 ful atmosphere, and have rarely threaded the crowds of a 
 foreign city with so light a heart. And yet it would be 
 difficult to describe wherein consists this agreeable peculi- 
 arity. You can find streets as dark and crooked and dirty 
 anywhere in Germany, and squares and gardens as gay and 
 sunny beyond the Alps, and yet they would affect you far 
 differently. You could not, as in Paris, divest yourself of 
 
THE PLACE BE LA COXCORDE. 467 
 
 eveiy particle of sad or serious tliouglit, and be content to 
 gaze for hours on the showy scene, without an idea beyond 
 the present moment. 
 
 Our favorite walk was through the Place du Carrousel 
 and the Gardens of the Tuileries, to the Place de la Con- 
 corde. What is there in Europe — naj, in the world — equal 
 to this ? In the centre, the mighty obelisk of red granite 
 pierces the sky, — on either hand showers of silver spray are 
 thrown up from splendid bronze fountains — statues and pil- 
 lars of gilded bronze sweep in a grand circle around the 
 Place, and on each side magnificent vistas lead the eye off, 
 and combine the distant with the near, to complete this 
 unparalleled view ! Eastward, beyond the tall trees in the 
 garden of the Tuileries, rises the long front of the Palace, 
 with the tri-color floating above ; Avestward, in front of us, 
 is the Forest of the Elysian Fields, with the Arc de Tri- 
 omphe nearly a mile and a half distant, looking down from 
 the end of the avenue, at the Barriere de Neuilly. To the 
 right and left are the marble fronts of the Church of the 
 Madeleine and the Chamber of Deputies, the latter on the 
 other side of the Seine. Thus the groves and gardens of 
 Paris — the palace of her kings— the proud monument of her 
 military glory — and the masterpieces of modern French 
 architecture, are all embraced in this one superb couj? d'osil. 
 
 Following the motley multitude to the bridge, I crossed 
 and made my way to the Hotel des Invalides. Along the 
 esplanade, playful companies of children were running and 
 tumbling in their sports over the green turf, which was as 
 fresh as a meadow ; while, not the least interesting feature 
 of the scene, numbers of scarred and disabled veterans, in 
 
468 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 the livery of the Hospital, basked in the sunshine, watching 
 with quiet satisfaction the gambols of the second generation 
 they have seen arise. What tales could they not tell, those 
 wrinkled and feeble old men ! What visions of Marengo, 
 and Austerlitz, and Borodino, shift with a fiery vividness 
 through their fading memories ! Some may have left a limb 
 on the Libyan desert ; and the sabre of the Cossack may 
 have scarred the brows of others. They witnessed the rising 
 and setting of that great meteor, which intoxicated France 
 with such a blaze of power and glory, and now, when the 
 recollection of that wonderful period seems almost like a 
 stormy di'eam, they are left to guard the ashes of their 
 ancient General, brought back from his exile to rest in the 
 bosom of his own French people. It was to me a touching 
 and exciting thing, to look on those whose eyes had wit- 
 nessed the filling up of such a fated leaf in the world's 
 history. 
 
 As we step out the western portal of the Tuileries, a beau- 
 tiful scene greets us. We look on the palace garden, 
 fragrant with flowers and classic with bronze copies of 
 ancient sculpture. Beyond this, broad gravel walks divide 
 the flower-bordered lawns, and ranks of marble demigods 
 and heroes look down on the joyous crowd. Children troll 
 their hoops along the avenues or skip the rope under the 
 clipped lindens, whose boughs are now tinged a pale yellow 
 by the bursting buds. The swans glide about on a pond in 
 the centre, begging bread of the bystanders, who watch a 
 miniature ship which the soft breeze carries steadily across. 
 Paris is unseen, but heard, on every side ; only the Column 
 of Luxor and the Arc de Triomphe rise blue and grand 
 
WHAT WE SAW IN PARIS. 469 
 
 above the top of tlie forest. What with the sound of voices, 
 the merry laughter of the children and a host of smiling 
 faces, the scene touches a happy chord in one's heart, and 
 he mingles with it, lost in pleasant reverie, until the sounds 
 fade away with the fading light. 
 
 In the course of two or three weeks these long daily ram- 
 bles, which we were obliged to take in order to keep ourselves 
 warm, made us acquainted with every part of Paris, from 
 Pere la Chaise to the Bois de Boulogne, and from St Denis 
 to the Jardin des Plantes. We visited all objects of interest 
 and curiosity — all the galleries of art which are open to the 
 public — in short, everything which could be seen without 
 expense, except the famous Rachel, for whom we paid and 
 by whom we were repaid tenfold. We saw Louis Philippe 
 ride to St. Cloud with the Prince de Joinville and the Duke 
 de Nemours ; we witnessed the saturnalia of the Carnival 
 and the Procession of the Boeuf Gras ; we tried to procure 
 admission to the Chamber of Deputies, but our notes (sent 
 in the manner prescribed) were never answered. I called 
 upon the American Minister, the Hon. William Hufus King, 
 who received me with great kindness and invited me to a 
 ball at the Legation on the 22d of February. I declined, 
 on account of lacking the necessary dress, but called upon 
 him twice afterwards and was treated with the same cordi- 
 ality. With this exception, I did not make a single acquaint- 
 ance during the whole of our stay in Paris. With regard 
 to the temptations of the gay city, I was safe enough. They 
 do not assail a man who is limited to a franc a day. . 
 
 Towards the end of February I had a little experience, 
 which came near terminating seriously. I was preparing my 
 
470 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 letters to send home, and had written until I was thoroughly 
 chilled, when the idea of procuring a brazier of coals, such 
 as are used in Italy, came into my head. On applying to 
 Madame Lambert, she at once furnished me with the article, 
 for four sous, assuring me, in reply to my question, that the 
 coals were not made from charcoal, but from wood. I fas- 
 tened the door and window tightly, in order to re»tain the 
 heat, placed the brazier under the table, at my feet, and re- 
 sumed my letters. In about half an hour I became conscious 
 of a heavy and painful sensation in the head, which I attribut- 
 ed to my cold hands and feet. The feeling increased, until 
 a sharp spike driven through my temples could scarcely 
 have given me greater pain. The paper became blurred, so 
 that I could no longer write ; a dull gray mist floated before 
 my eyes ; I dropped the pen and laid my head on the table. 
 I was fast losing consciousness, when my friend, who had 
 been out, opened the door. He at once noticed that the 
 room was filled with a stifling gas, and threw open the win- 
 dow. I arose, staggered down stairs and went into the 
 streets, but, finding that I saw nothing distinctly and was 
 constantly on the point of falling, I returned to my bed, 
 which I kept for two days, before I fully recovered. If the 
 suicides by charcoal suffer in proportion as I did, their deaths 
 must be terrible. 
 
 Our resources, at last, were reduced to a few francs, ^and 
 
 it became necessary to find some method of relief. B 
 
 had written for another remittance, but could not expect to 
 receive it for a month to come. He determined, however, 
 to state our situation to the merchant through whom the 
 former remittance had been received, and ask for a small 
 
THE SICK MERCHANT. 47l 
 
 advance. But tlie mercliaiit was absent in tlie countiy, and 
 before liis return M. Lambert presented his bill for another 
 month's rent of our room. I asked him to wait a day or 
 two, as our banker was absent, to which he replied with a 
 politeness that disconcerted me : " Tres hien, Monsieur." 
 Finally, the merchant returned and my friend called again, 
 but failed to see him : he was sick. By this time our funds 
 had dwindled to a single franc, and Ave could not afford to 
 lose time. My friend called on the second day, but the mer- 
 chant was still sick. "Well," said he to the servant, "let 
 me speak with him." " But he is not able to speak ; his 
 
 throat is affected," was the reply ; and B returned to 
 
 me with a melancholy mistrust, more than half convinced 
 that the merchant had suspected his errand, and feigned 
 sickness to avoid seeing him. " Still," said I, " it may be 
 true. Go back and write a note, stating our circumstances, 
 send it to him and wait for an answer. This will decide 
 the matter one way or the other." He went back, and I 
 agreed to wait for him at the nearest corner. After waiting 
 ten minutes, however, I could no longer endure the suspense, 
 and resolved to secrete myself near the house, in order that 
 
 I might guess, from B 's appearance as he came out, 
 
 whether he had been successful. There Was a cart standing 
 opposite the door, and I crouched behind it as if for shelter, 
 for the day was cold and rainy. I waited about ten minutes 
 longer, when the door opened and my friend issued forth. 
 His face had a wild, excited expression ; one hand was 
 clenched tightly, but as he reached the trottoir and started 
 for the street-corner, his feet were lifted as if the cobble- 
 stones were red-hot under them. This was enough : I jumped 
 
4*72 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 up from beliind the cart, rushed across the street, and slap- 
 ped him on the back with a mighty shout, causing his clench- 
 ed hand to open and disclose a roll of twenty five-franc 
 pieces which the good merchant (who was really ill) had 
 sent in answer to his note. 
 
 This was the last of our financial troubles in Paris. My 
 cousin, who wished to spend a month or two in the French 
 capital before going home, arrived from Heidelberg early in 
 March, and took a room near us. The season grew milder 
 and our condition became more pleasant ; but as I had order- 
 ed my next remittance to be sent to London, and feared to 
 bring my friend into further difficulties, I decided to go on 
 alone to that city. My conscience reproached me for the 
 idle life I was leading. I had letters to several printers in 
 London, and hoped to be able to find employment, in case of 
 necessity I accordingly borrowed enough for the journey, 
 took what clothing my Grerman knapsack would hold, and 
 prepared for a walk to Dieppe. 
 
CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 A WALK THROUGH NORMANDY. 
 
 Leaving Pairis— Versailles — Travel in March— The Suspicions Landlord— The Scenery 
 of Normandy— Eouen— The Vale of the Cailly— A Windy Night— 1 Hail the Atlantic 
 —A Night at Dieppe — Crossing the Channel — From Brighton to London. 
 
 After a residence of five weeks, which in spite of our few 
 troubles, passed away quickly and delightfully, I turned my 
 back on Paris. It was not regret I experienced on taking 
 my seat in the cars for Versailles, but that feeling of reluc- 
 tance with which we leave places.whose brightness and gaiety 
 force the mind away from serious toil. Steam, however, 
 cuts short all sentiment, and in much less time than it takes 
 to bid farewell to a German, I had whizzed passed the 
 Place d'Europe, through the barrier, and was watching the 
 spires start up from the receding city, on the way to St. 
 Cloud. 
 
 At Versailles I spent three hours in a hasty walk through 
 the palace, which allowed but a bare glance at the gorgeous 
 paintings of Horace Vernet. His " Taking of Constantine " 
 has the vivid look of reality. The white houses shine in 
 the sun, and from the bleached earth to the blue and dazzling 
 
414 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 sky, tliere seems to hang a heavy, scorcMng atmosphere. 
 The white smoke of the artillery curls almost visibly off the 
 canvas, and the cracked and half sprung walls seem about 
 to topple down on the besiegers. The afternoon was some- 
 what advanced by the time I had seen the palace and gar- 
 dens. After a hurried dinner at a restaurant, I shouldered 
 my knapsack, and took the road to St. Germain. The day 
 was gloomy and cheerless, and I should have felt very lone- 
 ly but for the thought of soon reaching England. There is 
 no time of the year more melancholy than a cold, cloudy 
 day in March ; whatever may be the delights of pedestrian 
 travelling in fairer seasons, my experience dictates that dur- 
 ing winter storms and March glooms, it had better be dis- 
 pensed with. However, I pushed on to St. Germain, 
 threaded its long streets, looked down from the height over 
 its magnificent tract of forest and turned westward down the 
 Seine. Owing to the scantiness of villages, I was obliged 
 to walk an hour and a half in the wind and darkness, before 
 I reached a solitary inn. As I opened the door and asked 
 for lodging, the landlady inquired if I had the necessary 
 papers. I answered in the affirmative and was admitted. 
 While I was eating supper, they prepared their meal on the 
 other end of the small table and sat down together. They 
 fell into the error, so common to ignorant persons, of think- 
 ing a foreigner could not understand them, and began talk- 
 ing quite unconcernedly about me. " Why don't he take the 
 railroad V said the old man : " he must have very little 
 money — it would be bad for us if he had none." *' Oh !" 
 remarked his son, " if he had none, he would not be sitting 
 there so quiet and unconcerned." I thought there was some 
 
ROUEN VALE OF THE CAILLY. 475 
 
 knowledge of human nature In this remark. " And besides," 
 added the landlady, " there is no danger for us, for we have 
 his passport." Of course I enjoyed this in secret, and men- 
 tally pardoned their suspicions, when I reflected that the high 
 roads between Paris and London are frequented by many 
 impostors, which makes the people naturally mistrustful. 
 
 I walked all the next day through a beautiful and richly 
 cultivated country. The early fruit trees were bursting into 
 bloom, and the farmers led out their cattle to pasturage in 
 the fresh meadows. The scenery must be delightful in sum- 
 mer — worthy of all that has been said or sung about lovely 
 Normandy. On the morning of the third day, before reach- 
 ing Rouen, I saw at a distance the remains of Chateau Gal- 
 liard, the favorite castle of E-ichard Coeur de Lion. Eouen 
 breathes everywhere of the ancient times of Normandy- 
 Nothing can be more picturesque than its quaint, irregular 
 wooden houses, and the low, mossy mills, spanning the 
 clear streams which rush through its streets. The Cathe- 
 dral, with its four towers, rises from among the clustered cot- 
 tages like a giant rock, split by the lightning and worn by 
 the rains of centuries into a thousand fantastic shapes. 
 
 Hesuming my walk in the afternoon, I climbed the heights 
 west of the city, and after passing through a suburb four or 
 five miles in length, entered the vale of the Cailly. This is 
 one of the sweetest scenes in France. It lies among the 
 woody hills like a Paradise, with its velvet meadows and 
 villas and breathing gardens. The grass Avas starred with 
 daisies, and if I took a step into the oak and chestnut woods, 
 I trampled on thousands of anemones and fragrant daffodils. 
 The upland plain, stretching inward from the coast, wears a 
 
476 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 different character. As I ascended, towards evening, and 
 walked over its monotonous swells, I felt almost homesick 
 beneath its saddening influence. The sun, hazed over with 
 dull clouds, gave out that cold and lifeless light which is 
 more lonely than complete darkness. The wind,, sweeping 
 dismally over the fields, sent clouds of blinding dust down 
 the road, and as it passed through the forests, the myriads 
 of fine twigs made a sound as deep and grand as the roar 
 of a roused ocean. Every chink of the Norman cottage 
 where I slept, whistled most drearily, and as I " looked out 
 the little window of my room, the trees were swaying in the 
 gloom, and long, black clouds scudded -across the sky. 
 Though my bed was poor and hard, it was a sublime sound 
 that cradled me into slumber. Homer might have used it as 
 the lullaby of Jove. 
 
 My last day on the continent came. I arose early and 
 walked over the hills towards Dieppe. The scenery grew 
 more bleak as I approached the sea, but the low and shelter- 
 ed valleys preserved the pastoral look of the interior. In 
 the afternoon, as I climbed a long, elevated ridge, over which 
 a strong northwester was blowing, I was struck with a beau- 
 tiful rustic church, in one of the dells below me. While 
 admiring its neat tower I gained unconsciously the summit 
 of the hill, and on turning suddenly around, lo ! there was 
 the glorious old Atlantic stretching far before and around me ! 
 A shower was sweeping mistily along the horizon, and I 
 could trace the white line of the breakers that foamed at 
 the foot of the cliffs. The scene came over me like a vivid 
 electric shock, and I gave an involuntary shout, which might 
 have been heard in all the valleys around. After a year 
 
CROSSING THE CHANNEL. 477 
 
 and a half of wandering over the continent, that gray ocean 
 was something to be revered and loved, for it clasped the 
 shores of my native America. 
 
 I entered Dieppe in a heavy shower, and after finding an 
 inn suited to my means and obtaining a permis d* embarque- 
 ment from the police office, I went out to the battlements 
 and looked again on the sea. The landlord promised to call 
 me in time for the boat, but my anxiety awakened me sooner, 
 and mistaking the strokes of the cathedral bell, I dressed, 
 unlocked several doors, felt my way through dark passages, 
 and finally gained the street. When I reached the wharf 
 it was only one o'clock, and no one was stirring on board 
 the boat, so that I was obliged to pace the silent, gloomy 
 streets of the town for full two hours. I watched the steamer 
 glide out on the rainy Channel, and turning into the topmost 
 berth, drew the sliding curtain and strove to keep out cold 
 and sea-sickness. But it was unavailing ; a heavy storm of 
 snow and rain rendered our passage so dreary that I did not 
 stir until we were approaching the chain pier of Brighton. 
 
 I looked out on the foggy shores of England with a feel- 
 ing of relief ; my tongue would now be freed from the diffi- 
 cult bondage of foreign languages, and my ears be rejoiced 
 with the music of my own. After two hours' delay at the 
 Custom House, I took my seat in an open car for London. 
 The day was dull and cold ; the sun resembled a milky 
 blotch in the midst of a leaden sky. I sat and shivered, as 
 we flew onward, amid the rich, cultivated English scenery. 
 At last the fog grew thicker ; the road was carried over the 
 tops of houses ; the familiar dome of St. Paul's stood out 
 above the spires ; and I was again in London ! 
 
CHAPTEE XLIV. 
 
 EXPERIENCES IN LONDON. 
 
 My Circumstances— Lodgings in Aldgate— Visits to the Printers— Illiberal Enles of 
 the Craft— Dodging a Landlord — Success and Failure— Happy and Penniless— Visit 
 to Mr. Putnam— The Mistrust of Poverty— Employment at Last— Life in Aldgate 
 — Letters of Introduction — A Breakfast with Lockhart — Bernard Barton— Croly — 
 Daniel O'Oonnell, and a Temperance Meeting— Trip to Greenwich— The " Fun of 
 the Fair "—Games in the Park— Greenwich Hill— Ground and Lofty Tumbling— A 
 Swinging Experiment— London Atmosphere — A Fog — Arrival of Money and 
 Friends— Embarking for Home. 
 
 When I got out of the third-class car in which I had ridden 
 from Brighton, and found myself, henumbed with cold, on 
 London Bridge again, my funds consisted of a franc and a 
 half — -just enough to pay for one night's lodging. In this 
 emergency, I remembered the coffee-house in Clmrch E,ow, 
 Aldgate, where we had lodged in the summer of 1844, and 
 when the dreary day darkened into a foggy, starless night, 
 I was seated in the well-known room, smelling of ale and 
 tobacco. The landlord and his wife evidently felt some 
 curiosity concerning me, but they were respectful and asked 
 no questions. They gave me a room on the second floor, 
 looking down into Aldgate Churchyard — a little room with 
 
VISITS TO THE PRINTERS. 479 
 
 a bad bed, a rickety chest of drawers and a piano of the 
 past century, the keys of which had long been silent : all for 
 a shilling a night. I did not venture to eat anything, but 
 went to bed soon and drowned my forebodings in slumber. 
 The next morning I took a slender breakfast, for which I 
 offered the franc in payment, but the landlord refused to 
 take it. " Well," said I, " I have just come from France and 
 have nothing but French money, I shall get it changed to- 
 day and pay you this evening." I then went out, determin- 
 ed to seek instant employment as a printer. Before leaving 
 New York, Mr. Willis had given me a note to three printers 
 of his acquaintance in London. I called upon the first of 
 these, who referred me to his foreman, who informed me 
 that although printers were in demand and were receiving 
 very good pay, the rules of the trade prohibited him from 
 employing any one who had not passed through a regular 
 apprenticeship, and could not present his indentures certify- 
 ing to the fact. This, of course, I was not able to do. I 
 then, after much search, discovered the second printer to 
 whom the note was addressed, was again referred to the 
 foreman and received the same answer. At two or three 
 other printing establishments in the same street, my applica- 
 tion met with a similar fate. All were willing to employ 
 me, all needed my services, but the rules of the trade pre- 
 vented them : their regular journeymen would desert them, 
 rather than permit it. By this time the day was drawing 
 to a close, and I Avandered back to Aldgate. On the way I 
 stopped at the Post Office, and saw that there was a letter for 
 myself advertised — a letter from home — but I had no money 
 to pay the postage, and w^ent away savage and disheartened. 
 
480 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 On paying the landlord for my breakfast, he informed me 
 that it was customary to settle every day for the lodging, 
 hut added ; " You can pay for both days to-morrow morning, 
 if you choose." " Very well," said I, although I had not 
 enough to pay for a single night. The next morning I got 
 up early, while the master and mistress were still in bed, 
 and went into the streets, determined to find some relief 
 before returning. I was obliged to walk the raw, misty 
 thoroughfares for three hours before I could find the master- 
 printers in their offices. I called on the third and last 
 printer addressed by Mr. "Willis, who gave me the same 
 answer, but referred me to another establishment, where he 
 thought I might be accepted. I went thither, and after 
 some conversation with the foreman, was told I might go to 
 work. I took off my coat, rolled up my sleeves, and was 
 getting a case in order, when I noticed that the workmen, 
 of whom there were a number, were looking at me and 
 whispering among themselves. Presently the foreman came 
 up to me and said : " I am very sorry, but you can't work 
 here. The men won't allow it, because you cannot show 
 that you have served the usual term of apprenticeship." I 
 thereupon put on my coat and went into the street again, 
 and that was all the type-setting I ever did in Europe. 
 
 By one of those curious psychological laws which have 
 never been explained by philosophers, the last chance of 
 obtaining employment was no sooner taken away from me, 
 than I became perfectly happy and contented. I had but 
 two-pence in my pocket, which I spent for some biscuits, to 
 satisfy my keen hunger, and then, as the day was rather 
 milder than usual, I wandered into St. James's Park, where 
 
INTERVIEW WITH MR. PUTNAM. 481 
 
 I sat for two or tliree hours, looking at the swans. I 
 scarcely tSouglit of my desperate situation , my mind was 
 tranquil, and a purely animal confidence in being provided 
 for, took possession of me. The thought of the letter from 
 horne finally recalled me to my anxieties, and I determined 
 to crush the pride which made me blush to think of such a 
 thing, and ask some one to help me. I remembered then Lo 
 have heard that there was a branch of an American pub- 
 lishing house in London, and by inquiring at a bookstore, 
 procured the address. In half an hour I was at Waterloo 
 Place, and found myself in the presence of Mr. Putnam. I 
 first asked for employment, but he had none to give, and 
 knew of none which I could procure. The consciousness of 
 being a vagabond (which every man feels when he is penni- 
 less in a strange land) made me suppose that he looked upon 
 me as such. To my morbid mood, his manner seemed con- 
 strained and mistrustful ; and I was about to turn and 
 leave, when the thought of my letter impelled me to ask the 
 loan of a sovereign. He gave it to me without hesitation, 
 but I still saw mistrust everywhere, and did not feel as 
 grateful for the kindness as I ought. 
 
 I went with rapid steps to the Post Ofiice, secured the 
 precious letter, returned to Aldgate, paid my score, and 
 established a credit with the fat landlord, which was not 
 shaken afterwards. Mr. Putnam had requested me to call 
 the next day, when, after some conversation, he furnished 
 me with sufficient employment in his establishment to sup- 
 port myself until the receipt of my final remittance. I saw 
 plainly that he made employment for me, for all that I did 
 might readily have been done by his other assistants. I 
 21 
 
482 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 packed up books, made out catalogues, visited all tlie pub- 
 lishing bouses in London, in order to fill orders from Ameri- 
 ca, and did occasional copying. Mr. Stevens, who was 
 engaged in supplying several private libraries in New Eng- 
 land, also gave me similar employment, so that I was sure 
 of tbe daily three shillings on which I managed to live. I 
 still remained at the Aldgate Coffee-house, in the room 
 with the silent piano. The master and mistress treated me 
 with marked respect, and never asked more than my name, 
 while I had no inclination to tell them more. The tap-room 
 was frequented by actors from low theatres, a few half- 
 starved clerks, and some sailors, and though I frequently 
 passed the evening there, for the sake of the fire, and the 
 three-days-old Times, they never annoyed me with their 
 curiosity. Sometimes their visits were prolonged far into 
 the night, and became boisterous. I was then sure to sec 
 swollen faces next morning, and the little servant-girl would 
 say, in a confidential way : " Oh, but didn't master and 
 missus fight last night ! " 
 
 As soon as I was sure of being able to live in London, I 
 delivered two letters of introduction which Mrs. Trollope 
 had given me in Florence, to her brother, Mr. Milton, and to 
 Mr. Murray, the publisher. The former received me in a 
 very friendly manner, and I spent several delightful even- 
 ings at his residence in Little Chelsea. By Mr. Murray I 
 was treated with no less kindness, and received through 
 him an invitatio-n to breakfast one morning with Lockhart, 
 and Bernard Barton, the Quaker poet, at the house of the 
 former. Mr. Murray accompanied me thither. I was much 
 pleased with Lockhart's appearance and manners. He has 
 
A BREAKFAST WITH LOCKHART 483 
 
 a noble, manly countenance — ^In fact, the handsomest Eng- 
 lish face I ever saw — a quick, dark eye, and an ample fore- 
 head, shaded by locks which show, as yet, but few threads 
 of gray. There is a peculiar charm in his rich, soft voice ; 
 especially when reciting poetry, it has a clear, organ-like 
 vibration, Avhich thrills deliciously on the ear. His daughter, 
 a very lovely girl, sat at the head of the table. 
 
 Bernard Barton, who is now quite an old man, is a very 
 lively and sociable Friend. His head is gray and almost 
 bald, but there is still plenty of fire in his eyes and life in 
 his limbs. His many kind and amiable qualities endear him 
 to a large circle of literary friends. He still continues 
 writing, and within the last year has brought out a volume 
 of simple, touching " Household Verses." We went after- 
 wards into Lockhart's library, which was full of interesting 
 objects. I saw the private diary of Scott, kept until within 
 a short time of his death. It was melancholy to trace the 
 gradual failing of all his energies in the very wavering of 
 the autograph. In a large volume of his correspondence, 
 containing letters from Campbell, Wordsworth, Byron, and 
 all the distinguished characters of the age, I saw Campbell's 
 "Battle of the Baltic" in his own hand. I Avas highly in- 
 terested and gratified with the visit ; the more so, as Mr. 
 Lockhart had invited me without previous acquaintance. 
 
 I Avent one Sunday to the Church of St. Stephen, to hear 
 Croly, the poet. The service, read by a drowsy clerk, avis 
 long and monotonous ; I sat in a side-aisle, looking up at the 
 dome, and listening to the rain which dashed in torrents 
 against the window-panes. At last, a tall, gray-liaired man 
 lame down the passage. He boAved Avith a sad smile, so full 
 
484 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 of benevolence and resignation, that it went into my heart 
 at once, and I gave him an involuntary tribute of sympathy. 
 He has a heavy affliction to bear — the death of his gallant 
 son, one of the officers who were slain in the late battle of 
 Ferozeshah. His whole manner betrayed the tokens of sub- 
 dued but constant grief. 
 
 I attended a Temperance Meeting in Exeter Hall, for the 
 purpose of hearing Daniel O'Oonnell. There were about 
 two thousand persons present. The great Agitator was evi- 
 dently not inspired by the subject, for his remarks were very 
 common-place and his manner heavy and unimpressive. 
 Nevertheless, the people cried " hear ! hear !" at the end of 
 every sentence, whether it was worth hearing or not. I 
 never saw an audience with less taste and discrimination. 
 O'Connell was followed by two or three excessively stupid 
 speakers, who were listened to with solemn endurance, after 
 which a physician — a man of real intelligence — commenced 
 making an admirable speech, and was hooted down, for no 
 cause that I could perceive, except his want of the stupidity 
 which seemed to be so attractive. 
 
 One day in April Mr. Stevens invited me to accompany 
 him to Greenwich Fair. We took a penny steamer from 
 Hungerford Market to London Bridge, and jumped into the 
 cars, which go every five minutes. Twelve minutes' ride 
 above the chimneys of London and the vegetable fields of 
 Eotherhithe and Deptford brought us to Greenwich, and we 
 followed the stream of people which was flowing from ail 
 parts of the city into the Park. Here began the merriment. 
 We heard on every side the noise of the " scratchers," or, 
 as the venders of these articles denominated them—" the 
 
SCENES IN GREENWICH PARK. 485 
 
 fun of the fair." This is a little notched wheel, with a 
 piece of wood fastened on it, like a miniature watchman's 
 rattle. The " fun " consists in drawing them down the back 
 of any one you pass, when they make a sound precisely 
 like that of ripping cloth. The women took great delight 
 in this, and as it is only deemed politeness to return the com- 
 pliment, we soon had enough to do. No one seemed to take 
 the thing amiss, but it was irresistibly droll to see a large 
 crowd engaged in this singular amusement. 
 
 As we began ascending Greenwich Hill, we were assailed 
 with another kind of game. The ground was covered with 
 smashed oranges, with which the people above and below 
 were stoutly pelting each other. Half a dozen heavy ones 
 whizzed uncomfortably near my head as I went up, and I 
 saw several persons get the full benefit of a shot on their 
 backs and breasts. The young country lads and lasses 
 amused themselves by running at full speed down the steep 
 side of a hill. This was, however, a feat attended with some 
 risk ; for I saw one luckless girl describe an arc of a circle, 
 of which her feet was the centre and her body the radius. 
 All was noise and nonsense. They ran to and fro under the 
 long, hoary boughs of the venerable oaks which crest the 
 summit, and clattered down the magnificent forest-avenues, 
 whose budding foliage gave them little shelter from the pass- 
 ing April showers. 
 
 The view from the top is superb. The stately Thames 
 curves through the plain below, which loses itself afar off 
 in the mist ; Greenwich, with its massive hospital, lies just 
 at one's feet, and in a clear day the domes of London skirt 
 the horizon. The wood of the Park is entirely oak — the 
 
486 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 majestic, dignified, English oak — which covers, in picturesque 
 chimps, the sides and summits of the two billowy hills. It 
 must be a sweet place in summer, when the dark, massive 
 foliage is heavy on every mossy arm, and the smooth and 
 curving sward shines with thousands of field flowers. 
 
 Owing to the showers, the streets were coated with mud, 
 of a consistence as soft and yielding as the most fleecy Per- 
 sian carpet. Near the gate, boys were holding scores of 
 donkeys, which they offered us at threepence for a ride of 
 two miles. "We walked down towards the river, and came 
 at last to a group of tumblers, who with muddy hands and 
 feet were throwing summersaults in the open street. I re- 
 cognised them as old acquaintances of the E-ue St. Antoine 
 and the Champs Elysees ; but the little boy who cried be- 
 fore, because he did not want to bend his head and feet into 
 a ring, had learned his part better by this time, so that he 
 went through it all without whimpering and came oif with 
 only a fiery red face. The exercises of the young gentle- 
 men were of course very graceful and classic, and the eff'ect 
 of their 'poscs of strength was very much heightened by the 
 muddy foot-marks which they left on each other's orange- 
 colored skins. 
 
 The centre of the square was occupied by swings, where 
 some eight or ten boat-loads of persons were flying topsy- 
 turvy into the air, making one giddy to look at them, and 
 constant fearful shrieks arose from the female swingers, at 
 finding themselves in a horizontal or inverted position, high 
 above the ground. One of the machines was like a great 
 wheel, with four cars attached, which mounted and de- 
 scended with their motley freight. We got into a swinging 
 
WONDEUFUL EXHIBITIONS. 487 
 
 boat by way of experiment. The starting motion was plea- 
 sant, but very soon it flew with a swiftness and to a height 
 rather alarming. I began to repent having chosen such a 
 mode of amusement, but held on as well as I could, in my 
 uneasy place. Presently we mounted until the long beam 
 of the swing was horizontal ; at one instant, I saw three 
 young ladies below me, with their heads downward, — then 
 I was turned heels up, looking at them. I was fast becom- 
 ing sea-sick, when after a few minutes of such giddy soaring, 
 the ropes were slackened and we all got out, looking some- 
 what pale, and feeling nervous, if nothing else. 
 
 There were also many great tents, hung with boughs and 
 lighted with innumerable colored lamps, where the people 
 danced their country dances in a choking cloud of dry saw- 
 dust. Conjurors and gymnastic performers were showing 
 off on conspicuous platforms, and a continual sound of drums, 
 cymbals and shrill trumpets called the attention of the crowd 
 to some " Wonderful Exhibition" — some infant phenomenon, 
 giant, or three-headed pig. A great part of the crowd be- 
 longed evidently to the worst classes of society, but the 
 watchfulness of the police prevented any open disorder. We 
 came away early and in a quarter of an hour were in busy 
 London, leaving far behind us the revel and debauch, which 
 was prolonged through the whole night. 
 
 London has the advantage of one of the most gloomy at- 
 mospheres in the world. During the opening spring weather, 
 no light and scarcely any warmth can penetrate the dull, 
 yellowish-gray mist, which incessantly hangs over the city. 
 Sometimes at noon we had for an hour or two a sickly gleam 
 of sunshine, but it was soon swallowed up by the smoke and 
 
488 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 drizzling fog. The people carry umbrellas at all times, for 
 the rain seems to drop spontaneously out of the very air, 
 without waiting for the usual preparation of a gathering 
 cloud. One day there was a genuine London fog — a speci- 
 men of November weather, as the people said. The streets 
 were wrapped in a veil of dense mist, of a dirty yellow 
 color, as if the air had suddenly grown thick and mouldy. 
 The houses on the opposite sides of the street were invisible, 
 and the gas-lamps, lighted in' the shops, burned with a white 
 and ghastly flame. Carriages ran together in the streets, 
 and I was kept constantly on the look-out, lest some one 
 should come suddenly out of the cloud around me, and we 
 should meet with a shock like that of two knights at a tour- 
 nament. 
 
 I led thus a misty, monotonous life for about six weeks, 
 enlivened by an occasional visit to Mr. Murray or Mr. Put- 
 nam, or my kind friends at Chelsea, after which I returned 
 to my room over the Aldgate Churchyard, the dreariness of 
 which became pleasant after the annoyances of London streets 
 at night. There is no city in the world where vice has so 
 brazen a front, as In London. At last, on the 20th of April, 
 I received a remittance of fifty dollars, and my friends, who 
 had also replenished their funds, arrived from Paris two or 
 three days afterwards. We immediately made preparations 
 to return home, and succeeded in engaging passage In the 
 Victoria, which was to sail on the 26th. The price of a 
 passage in the second cabin was 6ei2 lO*., which included 
 sailors' fare. Our funds were Insufficient to pay the whole 
 fare, after our final expenses In London had been defrayed ; 
 but Capt. Morgan, who was not so mistrustful as my Nor- 
 
EMBARKINO FOR HOME, 489 
 
 man landlord, agreed that tlie rest should be paid on our 
 arrival in New York. On the day of our departure, we took 
 dinner, for the first time, at the coffee-house, and the fat 
 landlord made us a pudding as round and puffy as his own 
 face, in honor of the event. He desired me to write to him, 
 which was the only act of familiarity he was guilty of. 
 After dinner I heard the old Aldgate clock strike for the 
 last time, and set out for St. Katharine's Docks overjoyed 
 at the thought of returning home, and feeling satisfied that, 
 now my pilgrimage in Europe was over, I had done all, and 
 more than all, which I had set out to do. 
 
 21* 
 
OHAPTEH XLV. 
 
 THE RETURN HOME — HINTS FOR PEDESTRIANS. 
 
 Quarters on Ship-board— Passage through the Channel— Portsmouth— The Yoyage 
 Home— Excitement of Eeturn— Landing— Land Sights and Scents— The Last Day 
 of the Pilgrimage— Approaching Home— The Lighted Window— Eequisites for a 
 Pedestrian Journey— Travelling on Small Allowance— Cost of Sleeping— The Knap- 
 Back— Manner of Travel -Open- Air Life— A Pedestrian's Equipment— Eooks— 
 Sketching— German Students- Companions— Ignorance concerning America- 
 Hotels — Country Taverns — Passports — Funds — Personal Safety— Comparative 
 Expense of Different Countries— Statement of my Expenses— Farewell. 
 
 We slid out of St. Katharine's Dock at noon on the appoint- 
 ed day, and with a pair of sooty steamboats hitched to our 
 vessel, moved slowly down the Thames in mist and drizzling 
 rain. I stayed on the wet deck all afternoon, that I might 
 more forcibly and joyously feel we were again in motion on 
 
 the waters and homeward bound ! B ^ and I, with two 
 
 young Englishmen, took possession of a state-room of rough 
 boards, lighted by a bull's-eye, which in stormy weather 
 leaked so much that our trunks swam in water. A narrow 
 mattress and blanket, with a knapsack for a pillow, formed 
 a passable bed. A long entry between the rooms, lighted 
 by a feeble swinging lamp, was filled with a board table, 
 
PASSAGE THROUGH THE CHANNEL. 491 
 
 around wliicli tlie thirty-two second cabin passengers met to 
 discuss politics and salt pork, favorable winds and hard sea- 
 biscuit. 
 
 We lay becalmed opposite Sheerness the whole of the 
 second day. At dusk a sudden squall came up, which drove 
 us foaming towards the North Foreland. When I went on 
 deck in the morning, we had passed Dover and Brighton, and 
 the Isle of Wight was rising dim ahead of us. The low 
 English coast on our right was bordered by long reaches of 
 dazzling chalky sand, which glittered along the calm blue 
 water. Gliding into the Bay of Portsmouth, we dropped 
 anchor opposite the romantic town of Ryde, built on the 
 sloping shore of the green Isle of Wight. Eight or nine 
 vessels of the Experimental Squadron were anchored near 
 us, and over the houses of Portsmouth, I saw the masts of 
 the Victory — the flag-ship in the battle of Trafalgar, on 
 board of which Nelson was killed. The wind was not strong 
 enough to permit the passage of the Needles, so at midnight 
 we succeeded in wearing back again into the channel, around 
 the Isle of Wight. A head wind forced us to tack away 
 towards the shore of France. We were twice in sight of 
 the rocky coast of Brittany, near Cherbourg, but the misty 
 promontory of Land's End was our last glimpse of the Old 
 World. 
 
 We had the usual experience of an Atlantic voyage — • 
 pleasant weather for a week, a very severe gale for five 
 days off the coast of Ireland, variable winds in mid-ocean, 
 a calm on the Banks of Newfoundland, and a fresh breeze 
 from the eastward, which failed us on the 31st of May, 
 when but thirty-five miles from Sandy Hook. We lay there 
 
492 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 all day in the fog, listening to the surf on the Long Island 
 shore. A pilot who found us, gave us newspapers with the 
 first account of the war with Mexico and the battles of Palo 
 Alto and Eesaca de la Palma. The next morning at sun- 
 rise we saw Sandy Hook ; at eleven o'clock a tug-boat took 
 hold of us, and at noon we were gliding up the Narrows, 
 with the whole ship's company of four hundred persons on 
 deck, gazing on the beautiful shores of Staten Island, and 
 agreeing almost universally, that it was the most delightful 
 scene they had ever looked upon. 
 
 I shall not attempt to describe the excitement of that 
 afternoon. After thirty-seven days between sky and water, 
 any shore would have been beautiful, but when that shore 
 was Home, after we had been two years absent, during an 
 age when time is always slow, it required a powerful effort 
 to maintain any propriety of manner. The steward prepar- 
 ed a parting dinner, much better than any we had had at 
 sea ; but I tried in vain to eat. Never were trees such a 
 glorious green as those around the Quarantine Buildings, 
 where we lay to for half an hour, to be visited by the physi- 
 cian. The day was cloudy, and thick mist hung on the tops 
 ' of the hills, but I felt as if I could never tire looking at the 
 land. 
 
 At last we approached the city. It appeared smaller 
 than when I left, but this might have been because I was 
 habituated to the broad distances of the sea. Our scanty 
 baggage was brought on deck, for the inspection of the 
 custom-house officer, but we were neither annoyed nor delay- 
 ed by the operation. The steamer by this time had taken 
 us to the pier at Pine-street wharf, and the slight jar of the 
 
LAND SIGHTS AND SCENTS. 493 
 
 vessel as she came alongside, sent a thrill of delight through 
 our frames. But when finally the ladder was let down, and 
 we sprang upon the pier, it was with an electric shock, as if 
 of recognition from the very soil. It was about four o'clock 
 in the afternoon, and we were glad that night was so near at 
 hand. After such strong excitement as we had felt since 
 morning, the prospect of rest was very attractive. 
 
 Life at sea sharpens one's sensibilities to the sounds and 
 scents of land, in a very high degree. We noticed a differ- 
 ence in the atmosphere of different streets, and in the scent 
 of leaves and grass, which a land friend who was with U9 
 failed entirely to distinguish. The next day, as we left 
 New York, and in perfect exultation of spirit sped across 
 New Jersey (which was never half so beautiful to our eyes), 
 I could feel nothing but one continued sensation of the 
 country — fragrant hay-field and wild clearing, garden and 
 marshy hollow, and the cool shadow of the Avoodlands — I 
 was by turns possessed with the spirit of them all. The 
 twilight deepened as we passed down the Delaware ; I stood 
 on the promenade deck, and watched the evening star 
 kindling through the cloudless flush of sunset, while the 
 winds that came over the glassy river bore me the odor of 
 long-remembered meadow flowers. We asked each other 
 what there was in the twilights of Florence and Vallambrosa 
 more delicious than this 1 
 
 A night in neat, cheerful, home-like Philadelphia, whose 
 dimensions were also a little shrunken in our eyes, and a 
 glorious June morning broke on the last day of our pil- 
 grimage. Again we were on the Delaware, pacing the deck 
 in rapture at the green, luxuriant beauty of its shores. Is 
 
494 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 it not worth years of absence, to learn how to love one's 
 land as it should be loved ? Two or three hours brought us 
 to Wilmington, in Delaware, and within twelve miles of 
 home. Now came the realization of a plan we had talked 
 over a hundred times, to keep up our spirits when the 
 weather was gloomy, or the journey lay through some 
 waste of barren country. Our knapsacks, which had been 
 laid down in Paris, were again taken up, slouched German 
 hats siibstituted for our modern black cylinders, belt and 
 blouse donned, and the pilgrim staff grasped for the rest of 
 our journey. But it was part of our plan, that we should 
 not reach home till after nightfall ; we could not think of 
 seeing any one we knew before those who were nearest to 
 us ; and so it was necessary to wait a few hours before 
 starting. 
 
 The time came ; that walk of three or four hours seemed 
 longer than many a day's tramp of thirty miles, but every 
 step of the way was familiar ground. The people we met 
 £tared, laughed, or looked suspiciously after us, but we were 
 quite insensible to any observation. We only counted the 
 fields, measured the distance from hill to hill, and watched 
 the gradual decline of the broad, bright sun. It went down 
 at last, and our homes were not far off. When the twilight 
 grew deeper, we parted, each one of us thinking what an 
 experience lay between that moment and the next morning. 
 I took to the fields, plunged into a sea of dewy clover, and 
 made for a light which began to glimmer as it grew darker. 
 When I reached it, and looked with the most painful ex- 
 citement through the window on the unsuspecting group 
 within, there was not one face missing. 
 
 ( 
 
REQUISITES FOR A PEDESTRIAN JOURNEY. 495 
 
 Altliougli tlie narrative of my journey, " with knapsack 
 and staff," is now strictly finished, a few more words of 
 explanation seem necessary, to describe more fully the 
 method of travelling which we adopted. I add them the 
 more willingly, as it is my belief that many, whose circum- 
 stances are similar to mine, desire to undertake the same 
 romantic journey. Some matter-of-fact statements may be 
 to them useful as well as interesting. 
 
 To see Europe as a pedestrian requires little preparation, 
 if the traveller is willing to forego some of the refinements 
 of living to which he may have been accustomed, for the 
 sake of the new and interesting fields of observation which 
 will be opened to him. He must be content to sleep on 
 hard beds, and partake of coarse fare ; to undergo rudeness 
 at times from the officers of the police and the porters of 
 palaces and galleries ; or to travel for hours in rain and 
 storm without finding a shelter. The knapsack will at first 
 be heavy upon the shoulders, the feet will be sore and the 
 limbs weary with the day's walk, and sometimes the spirit 
 will begin to flag imder the general fatigue of body. This, 
 however, soon passes over. In a week's time, if the pedes- 
 trian does not attempt too much on setting out, his limbs are 
 stronger, and his gait more firm and vigorous ; he lies down 
 at night with a feeling of refreshing rest, sleeps with a 
 soundness undisturbed by a single dream, that seems almost 
 like death, if he has been accustomed to restless nights ; and 
 rises invigorated in heart and frame for the next day's 
 journey. The coarse black bread of the peasant inns, with 
 cheese no less coarse, and a huge mug of milk or the 
 nourishing beer of Germany, have a relish to his keen 
 
496 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 appetite, wliicli excites his own astonishment. And if he is 
 willing to regard all incivility and attempts at imposition as 
 valuable lessons in the study of human nature, and to keep 
 his temper and cheerfulness in any situation which may try 
 them, he is prepared to walk through the whole of Europe, 
 with more real pleasure to himself, and far more profit, than 
 if he journeyed in style and enjoyed (?) the constant ser- 
 vices of couriers and valets de place. 
 
 Should his means become unusually scant, he will find it 
 possible to travel on an amazingly small pittance, and with 
 more actual bodily comfort than would seem possible, to one 
 who has not tried it. I was more than once obliged to walk 
 a number of days in succession, on less than a franc a day, 
 and found that the only drawback to my enjoyment was the 
 fear that I might be without relief when this allowance 
 should be exhausted. One observes, admires, wonders, and 
 learns quite as extensively, under such circumstances, as if 
 he had unlimited means. 
 
 The only expense that cannot be reduced at will, in 
 Europe, is that for sleeping. You may live on a crust of 
 bread a day, but lower than four cents for a bed you cannot 
 go ! In Germany this is the regular price paid by travel- 
 ling journeymen, and no one need wish for a more comforta- 
 ble resting-place than those massive boxes (when you have 
 become accustomed to their shortness) with their coarse but 
 clean linen slieets, and healthy mattresses of straw. In Italy 
 the price varies from half a paul to a paul (ten cents), but a 
 person somewhat familiar with the language would not often 
 be asked more than the former price, for which he has a bed 
 stuffed with corn-husks, large enough for at least three men. 
 
MANNER OF TRAVEL. 497 
 
 I was asked in France, five sous in all the village inns, from 
 Marseilles to Dieppe. The pedestrian cares far more for a 
 good rest than for the quality of his fare, and a walk of 
 thirty miles prepares him to find it, on the hardest couch. I 
 usually rose before sunrise, and immediately began the day's 
 journey, the cost of lodging having been paid the night 
 before — a universal custom among the common inns, which 
 are frequented by the peasantry. At the next village, I 
 would buy a loaf of the hard brown bread, with some cheese, 
 or butter, or whatever substantial addition could be made 
 at trifling cost, and breakfast on a bank by the roadside, 
 lying at full length on the dewy grass, and using my knap- 
 sack as a table. I might also mention that a leathern pouch, 
 fastened on one side of this table, contained a knife and fork, 
 and one or two solid tin boxes, for articles which could not 
 be carried in the pocket. A similar pouch at the other side 
 held pen and ink, and a small bottle, which was filled some- 
 times with the fresh water of the streams, and sometimes 
 with the common country wine, which costs from three to 
 six sous the quart. 
 
 After walking more than half the distance to be accom- 
 plished, with half an hour's rest, dinner would be made in 
 the same manner, and while we rested the full hour allotted 
 to the mid-day halt, guide-books would be examined, jour- 
 nals written, or a sketch made of the landscape. If it was 
 during the cold, wet days of winter, we sought a rock, or 
 sometimes the broad abutment of a chance bridge, upon 
 which to lie ; in summer, it mattered little whether we rested 
 in sun or shade, under a bright or rainy sky. The vital 
 energy which this life in the open air gives to the constitu- 
 
498 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 tion, is remarkable. The very sensation of health and 
 strength becomes a positive luxury, and the heart overflows 
 with its buoyant exuberance of cheerfulness. Every breath 
 of the fresh morning air was like a draught of some spark- 
 ling elixir, gifted with all the potency of the undiscovered 
 Fountain of Youth. We felt pent and oppressed within the 
 walls of a dwelling ; it was far more agreeable to march in 
 the face of a driving shower, under the beating of which the 
 blood grew fresh and warm, than to sit by a dull fireplace 
 waiting for it to cease. Although I had lived mainly upon 
 a farm until the age of seventeen, and was accustomed to 
 out-door exercise, I never before felt how much life one may 
 draw from air and sunshine alone. 
 
 Thus, what at first was borne as a hardship, became at 
 last an enjoyment, and there seemed to me no situaiion so 
 extreme, that it did not possess some charm to my mind, 
 which made me unwilling to shrink from the experience. 
 Still, as one depth of endurance after another was reached, 
 the words of Cicero would recur to me as encouragement — 
 " Perhaps even this may hereafter be remembered with plea- 
 sure." Once only, while waiting six days at Lyons in 
 gloomy weather and among harsh people, without a sous 
 and with a strong doubt of receiving any relief, I became in- 
 different to what might happen, and would have passively 
 met any change for the worse — as men who have been ex- 
 posed to shipwreck for days, scarce make an effort to save 
 themselves when the vessel strikes at last. 
 
 A few words in relation to a pedestrian's equipment may 
 be of some practical value. It is best to take no more 
 clothing than is absolutely required, as the traveller will not 
 
A pedestrian's equipment. 499 
 
 desire to carry more than fifteen pounds on his back, knap- 
 sack included. A single suit of good dark cloth, with a 
 supply of linen, will be amply sufficient. The strong linen 
 blouse, confined by a leather belt, will protect it from the 
 dust, and when this is thrown aside on entering a city, the 
 traveller makes a very respectable appearance. The slouched 
 hat of finely woven felt, is a delightful covering to the 
 head, serving at the same time as umbrella or night cap, 
 travelling dress or visiting costume. No one should neglect 
 a good cane, which, besides its feeling of companionship, is 
 equal to from three to five miles a day, and may serve as a 
 defence against banditti, or savage Bohemian dogs. In the 
 Alps, the tall staves, pointed with iron, and topped with a 
 curved chamois horn, can be bought for a franc apiece, and 
 are of great assistance in crossing ice-fields, or sustaining the 
 Aveight of the body in descending steep and difficult passes. 
 
 An umbrella is inconvenient, unless it is short and may 
 be strapped on the knapsack, but even then, an ample cape 
 of oiled silk or India rubber cloth is far preferable. The 
 pedestrian need not be particular in this respect ; he will 
 soon grow accustomed to an occasional drenching, and I am 
 not sure that men, like plants, do not thrive under it, when 
 they have outgrown the hot-house nature of civilization, in 
 a life under the open heaven. A portfolio, capable of hard 
 service, with a guide-book or two, pocket-compass and spy- 
 glass, completes the contents of the knapsack, though if there 
 is still a small corner to spare, I would recommend that it be 
 filled with pocket editions of one or two of the good old 
 English classics. It is a rare delight to sit down in the 
 gloomy fastnesses of the Hartz, or in the breezy valleys of 
 
500 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 Styria, and read the majestic measures of our glorious Saxon 
 bards. Milton is first fully appreciated, when you look up 
 from his page to the snowy ramparts of the Alps, which shut 
 out all but the Heaven of whose beauty he sang ; and all 
 times and places are fitting for the universal Shakspeare. 
 Childe Harold bears such a glowing impress of the scenery 
 on which Byron's eye has dwelt, that it spoke to me like the 
 answering voice of a friend from the crag of Drachenfels, in 
 the rushing of the arrowy Rhone, and beside the breathing 
 marbles of the Vatican and the Capitol. 
 
 A little facility in sketching from nature is a most useful 
 and delightful accomplishment for the pedestrian. He may 
 bring away the features of wild and unvisited landscapes, 
 the picturesque fronts of peasant cottages and wayside 
 shrines, or the simple beauty of some mountain child, watch- 
 ing his herd of goats. Though having little knowledge and 
 no practice in the art, I persevered in my awkward attempts, 
 and was soon able to take a rough and rapid but tolerably cor- 
 rect outline of almost any scene. These memorials of two 
 years of travel have now a value to me, which I would not 
 exchange for the finest engravings, however they might ex- 
 cel in faithful representation. Another article of equipment 
 which I had almost forgotten to mention, is a small bottle of 
 the best Cognac, with which to bathe the feet, morning and 
 evening, for the first week or two, or as long as they con- 
 tinue tender with the exercise. It was also very strengthen- 
 ing and refreshing, when the body was unusually weary with 
 a long day's walking or climbing, to use as an external sti- 
 mulant; for I never had occasion to apply it internally. 
 Many of the German students wear a wicker flask, slung 
 
GERMAN STUDENTS. 501 
 
 over their shoulder, containing kirscliwasser, which they mix 
 with the water of the mountain streams, hut this is not at 
 all necessary to the traveller's health and comfort. 
 
 These students, with all their irregularities, are a nohle, 
 warm-hearted class, and make the hest companions in the 
 world. During the months of August and September, hun- 
 dreds of them ramble through Switzerland and the Tyrol, 
 extending their route sometimes to Venice and Rome. With 
 their ardent love for every thing republican, they will 
 always receive an American heartily, consecrate him as a 
 bursch, and admit him to their fellowship. With the most 
 of them, an economy of expense is part of the habit of their 
 student-life, and they are only spendthrifts on the articles of 
 beer and tobacco. A month's residence in Heidelberg, the 
 most beautiful place in Germany, will serve to make the 
 young American acq[uainted with their habits, and able to 
 join them for an adventurous foot-journey, with the greatest 
 advantage to himself. 
 
 We always accepted a companion, of whatever kind, while 
 walking — from chimney-sweeps to barons. In a strange 
 country one can learn something from every peasant, and we 
 neglected no opportunity, not only to obtain information, but 
 to impart it. We found every where great curiosity respect- 
 ing America, and we were always glad to tell them all they 
 wished to know. In Germany, we were generally taken for 
 Germans from some part of the country where the dialect 
 was a little different, or, if they remarked our foreign pecu- 
 liarities, they supposed we were either Poles, Russians, or 
 Swiss. The greatest ignorance in relation to America, pre- 
 vails among the common people. They imagine we are a 
 
502 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 savage race, witliont intelligence and almost without law. 
 Persons of education, who had some slight knowledge of 
 our history, showed a curiosity to know something of our 
 political condition. They are taught by the German news- 
 papers (which are under a strict censorship in this respect) 
 to look only at the evil in our country, and they almost in- 
 variably began by adverting to Slavery and Repudiation. 
 While we admitted, often with shame and mortification, the 
 existence of things so inconsistent with true republicanism, 
 we endeavored to make them comprehend the advantages 
 enjoyed by the free citizen — the complete equality of birth 
 — which places America, despite her faults, far above any 
 other nation on earth. 
 
 In large cities we always preferred to take the second or 
 third-rate hotels, which are generally visited by merchants 
 and persons who travel on business ; for, with the same 
 comforts as those of the first rank, they are nearly twice as 
 cheap. A traveller, with a guide-book and a good pair of 
 eyes, can also dispense with the services of a courier, whose 
 duty it is to conduct strangers about the city, from one 
 lion to another. We chose rather to find out and view the 
 sights at our leisure. In small villages, where we were often 
 obliged to stop, we chose the best hotels, which, particularly 
 in Northern Germany and in Italy, are none too good. But 
 if it was a post, that is, a town where the post-chaise stops 
 to change horses, we usually avoided the post-hotel, where 
 one must pay high for having curtains before his windows 
 and a more elegant cover on his bed. In the country 
 taverns we always found neat, comfortable lodging, and 
 a pleasant, friendly reception from the people. They 
 
COUNTRY INNS PASSPORTS. 503 
 
 saluted ns, on entering, with "Be you welcome," and 
 on leaving, wished us a pleasant journey and good fortune. 
 The host, when he brought us supper or breakfast, lifted his 
 cap, and wished us a good appetite — and when he lighted us 
 to our chambers, left us with " May you sleep well !" We 
 generally found honest, friendly people ; they delighted in 
 telling us about the country around ; what ruins there were 
 in the neighborhood — and what strange legends were con- 
 nected with them. The only part of Europe where it is 
 unpleasant to travel in this manner, is Bohemia. We could 
 scarcely find a comfortable inn ; the people all spoke an un- 
 known language, and were not particularly celebrated for 
 their honesty. Beside this, travellers rarely go on foot in 
 those regions ; we were frequently taken for travelling liand- 
 werker, and subjected to imposition. 
 
 With regard to passports, although they were vexatious 
 and often expensive, we found little difficulty when we had 
 acquainted ourselves with the regulations concerning them. 
 In France and Germany they are comparatively little trou- 
 ble ; in Italy they are the traveller's greatest annoyance. 
 Americans are treated with less strictness, in this respect, 
 than citizens of Other nations, and, owing to the absence of 
 rank among us, they also enjoy greater advantages of ac- 
 quaintance and intercourse. 
 
 The expenses of travelling in England, although much 
 greater than in our own country, may, as we learned by 
 experience, be brought, through economy, within the same 
 compass. Indeed, it is my belief, from observation, that 
 with few exceptions, throughout Europe, where a traveller 
 enjoys the same comfort and abundance as in America, he 
 
604 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 must pay tlie same prices. The principal difference is, that 
 he only pays for what he gets, so that, if he be content with 
 the necessities of life, without its luxuries, the expense is in 
 proportion. 
 
 The best coin for the traveller's purpose, is English gold, 
 which passes at a considerable premium on the Continent, 
 and is readily accepted at all the principal hotels. Having 
 to earn my means as I went along, I was obliged to have 
 money forwarded in small remittances, generally in drafts 
 on the house of Hottingeur & Co., in Paris, which could be 
 cashed in any large city of Europe. If only a short tour is 
 intended, and the pedestrian's means are limited, he may 
 easily carry the necessary amount with him. There is little 
 danger of robbery for those who journey in such an humble 
 style. I never lost a single article in this manner, and 
 rarely had any feeling but that of perfect security. No part 
 of our own country is safer in this respect than Germany, 
 Switzerland or France. Italy still bears an unfortunate 
 reputation for honesty ; the defiles of the Apennines and the 
 hollows of the Roman Oampagna are haunted by banditti, 
 and persons who travel in their own carriages are often 
 plundered. I saw the caves and hiding-places of these out- 
 laws among the evergreen shrubbery, in the pass of Monte 
 Somma, near Spoleto. A SAvedish gentleman in Rome told 
 me that he had walked from Ancona, through the mountains 
 to the Eternal City, partly by night, but that, although he 
 met with many suspicious faces, he was not disturbed in any 
 way. An English artist of my acq[uaintance walked from 
 Leghorn along the Tuscan and Tyrrhene coast to Oivita 
 Vecchia, through a barren and savage district, ov^ergrown 
 
COMPARATIVE EXPENSES OF DIFFERENT LANDS. 505 
 
 with aloes and cork-trees, without experiencing any trouble, 
 except from the extreme curiosity of the ignorant inhabitants. 
 TLe fastnesses of the Abruzzi have been explored with like 
 facility by daring pedestrians ; indeed, the sight of a knapsack 
 seems to serve as a free passport with all highwaymen. 
 
 I have given, at times, through the foregoing chapters, the 
 cost of portions of my journey and residence in various cities 
 of Europe. The cheapest country for travelling, as far as 
 my experience extended, is Southern Germany, where one 
 can travel comfortably on twenty-five cents a day. Italy and 
 the south of France come next in order, and are but little more 
 expensive ; then follow Switzerland and Northern Germany, 
 and lastly. Great Britain. The cheapest city, and one of 
 the pleasantest in the world, is Florence, where we break- 
 fasted on five cents, dined sumptuously on twelve, and went 
 to a good opera for ten. A man would find no difficulty in 
 spending a year there, for about $250. This fact may be 
 of some importance to those whose health requhes such a 
 stay, yet are kept back from attempting the voyage through 
 fear of the expense. Counting the passage to Leghorn at 
 fifty or sixty dollars, it will be seen how little is necessary 
 for a year's enjoyment of the sweet atmosphere of Italy. In 
 addition to these particulars, the following connected state- 
 ment of my expenses, will better show the minimum cost of 
 a two years' pilgrimage : 
 
 Voyage to Liverpool, in the second cabin, . . . $24 00 
 
 Three weeks' travel in Ireland and Scotland, . . 25 00 
 
 A week in London, at three shillings a day, . . . 4 50 
 
 ti'rom London to Heidelberg, . . . . 15 00 
 
 Amount carried over, . . $68 50 
 
 2-2 
 
506 VIEWS A-FOOT> 
 
 Amount brought forward, . . |68 50 
 
 A month at Heidelberg, and trip to Frankfort, , . 20 00 
 
 Seven months in Frankfort, at |10 per month, . . '70 00 
 
 Fuel, passports, excursions and other expenses, . . 30 00 
 
 Tour through Cassel, the Hartz, Saxony, Austria, Bavaria, cfec, 40 00 
 
 A month in Frankfort, . . . . , . 10 00 
 
 From Frankfort through Switzerland, and over the Alps to Milan, 15 00 
 
 From Milan to Genoa, ...... 60 
 
 Expenses from Genoa to Florence, . . . . 14 00 
 
 Four months in Florence, . . . . . 50 00 
 
 Eight days' journey from Florence to Rome, two weeks in Eome, 
 
 voyage to Marseilles, and journey to Paris, . . 40 00 
 
 Five weeks in Paris, . . . . . 15 00 
 
 From Paris to London, . . . . . . 8 00 
 
 Six weeks in London, at three shillings a day, . . 31 00 
 
 Passage home, . . . . . . . 60 00 
 
 $4:12. 10 
 
 The cost for places of amusement, guides' fees, and other 
 small expenses, not included in this list, increase the sum 
 total to $500, for which I made the tour, and for which 
 others may make it. May the young reader, whom this 
 book has encouraged to attempt the same pilgrimage, meet 
 with equal kindness on his way, and come home as well re- 
 paid for his labors ! 
 
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