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TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES, 
 
 
 BY 
 
 u 
 
 PORTE PLUME." 
 
 
 ^v 
 
 / 
 
 GEORGE F. NESBITT & CO., PRINTERS AND STATIONERS, 
 Corner of Pearl and Pine Streets. 
 
 1870. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, by 
 
 W. M. HARDING, 
 
 April 22, 1870, in tiie Clerk's Office of the District Court of 
 
 tiie Southern District of New-York. 
 
 
 
A small portion of the following " Sketches " appeared as " Letters 
 to the Brooklyn Union," with the signature of u Porte Plume," in 
 that journal in the fall of 1868, and as these letters appeared to 
 afford so much pleasure to many of my personal friends, who followed 
 me with so much interest in my journey as to peruse them, I have been 
 flattered into the belief that by " writing up " an account of how I 
 spent my short vacation abroad in the fall of the year above stated, and 
 producing the " whole story" complete in one number, I should further 
 gratify the many indulgent and friendly critics who have been kind 
 enough to be pleased with my descriptions of men and things. 
 
 W. M. HAEDING. 
 Brooklyn Heights, March, 1870 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 BY "PORTE PLUME." 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 FAREWELL TO NEW-YORK— PASSENGERS — SEA- SICKNESS — 
 CAPT. NEYNABER AND THE STEAMER BREMEN — LAND 
 HO ! — COWES AND THE YACHT RACE — UP THE CHANNEL 
 — BREMERHAVEN AND BREMEN — HOTEL DE L'EUROPE 
 — MY FRIEND MAX — SERVANTS. 
 
 It was on Thursda}^ the 22nd of July, at 2 o'clock, P. M., 
 that the steamer "Bremen," of the North German Lloyds 
 Company, cast off the last ties that bound her to the Jersey 
 shore, and glided out into the North River, bound for the 
 port whose name she bears, while friends on shore waved 
 adieus, shouted farewells and hurrahed hurrahs in response 
 to the adieus, farewells and hurrahs of those on board. 
 Swiftly clown the noble harbor of New- York we glided ; 
 passed from our view the smilingly beautiful and verclured 
 shores of Staten and Long Island ; frowned upon us as 
 we left them astern, the grim fortresses of Lafayette, Wads- 
 worth, Hamilton and Richmond ; smiled upon us the sum- 
 mer's setting sun over the almost barren arm of Sandy 
 Hook ; dusky grew the eastern sky as we gently rose on 
 the ocean swell, and — we were at sea. 
 
 With a human freight of seventy-one "souls, beside the 
 Captain and the crew," who by some people are supposed 
 
 4* 
 
6 TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 to be totally ignorant of the existence of such a commodity, 
 much less to possess it, we gaily dipped and rolled in the 
 bright blue waters speeding on our way to Europe. 
 
 There is but little joy in steamship life under ordinary 
 circumstances, and there is little joy in the hearts of steam- 
 ship passengers, if you look there for joy, within a few 
 hours of and after a separation from home and loved ones; 
 there were weeping women clinging to one another, and 
 there were weeping women clinging to dejected looking men ; 
 there were dejected looking men in groups smoking and 
 s iv i ng nothing ; and there were dejected looking men gazing 
 astern long after land was out of sight There were critical 
 eyes from one to another, and no one seemed disposed to 
 prove the adage that "misery loves company;" yet in time 
 we became acquainted, and if there was ever a jollier, pleas- 
 ant er, more sociable company crossed the Atlantic in a 
 passenger steamer before, I would like to immortalize that 
 company as socially fitted to people the mansions of the 
 gods — I refer to Olympus, not to Mount Ida. 
 
 The weather for the first three clays was mild and beauti- 
 ful, and the time passed very agreeably and pleasantly ; but 
 there came a day — a fourth day — a day of misery, and a day 
 of fasting ; a day on which " the winds blew and the sea 
 arose, and there was a great storm." Imagine }^ourself, kind 
 reader, (if you haven't been there,) in a room six feet long, 
 six feet wide, seven feet high, half of which room is occu- 
 pied by a washstand, a sofa-seat and two berths, and im- 
 agine yourself sea-sick ; but it is impossible to imagine that. 
 Imagine yourself helplessly indifferent to all that is tran- 
 t spiring about you. Imagine that your bed, which is two 
 and a half feet wide, is assuming an angle of forty-five de- 
 grees to the right, then forty -five degrees to the left, and 
 between each angle a delightful jerking motion, which in- 
 
TKANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 7 
 
 creases your indifference regarding the world in general. 
 Imagine again, for you must imagine much if you would 
 have a true picture, that your room window is the size of 
 the bottom of a quart pot, and that a man is playing at it 
 from the outside with a hose ; imagine that twenty or thirty 
 men in new squeaking boots are balancing themselves over 
 your head on deck, as the bed assumes its different angles ; 
 that in the story below, two butcher boys are racing horses ; 
 that a coffee mill of gigantic proportions, is constantly grind- 
 ing in the basement ; that a battering ram is hammering at 
 the cellar door; that a street fight is in progress on the roof; 
 that several cats, (time midnight) and at least a dozen chim- 
 neys with the wind whistling in them, are aiding the general 
 confusion— and you can perhaps imagine in a degree, the 
 surroundings of a sea-sick landsman during a storm at sea — 
 add to this and the feeling of general indifference, the feel- 
 ing that you are gradually losing confidence in your stomach 
 —and you have the picture as complete as it is possible to 
 imagine it. Notwithstanding the rolling and the jerking, the 
 creaking and the pounding, and the horrible feeling within 
 me, I rolled out of my bed, rolled into my clothes, was 
 jerked through the saloon, by a breakfast table . groaning 
 with good things, and finally jerked upon deck — how I 
 know not, to the lea-side of the ship, where, gazing out upon 
 the watery waste, I sank before the shrine of Neptune, and 
 offered up my sacrifice to the Aquatic god. I" cast my 
 bread (and beef too,) upon the waters, and hope never to 
 find it after many days. 
 
 There were several of our passengers who were, and who 
 remained during the whole voyage so well and bappy and 
 hearty, that it was exasperating to an indescribable degree 
 to witness them ; and one of these at a peculiar period of my 
 sickness, at a period when I was on my knees at the altar 
 
8 TBANS-ATLAOTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 of N"t'ptutit 4 offering a sacrifice — at this extremely trying 
 and excessively discouraging period, one of these inhuman 
 fellow passengers of mine — and I "blush to say it was a lady 
 
 was seated a1 the piano in the saloon, and while one gal- 
 lant homme held the music and another the music stool, 
 played in a most heartless and cruelly beautiful manner, 
 Thalberg's variations of "Home, Sweet Home." Ye gods! 
 was there ever in the history of man so trying a moment? 
 Tantalus, with the apple swinging before his thirsty eyes, 
 or Prometheus chained to Caucasus, never suffered more 
 mental pain than I did. as the strains of that music were 
 borne to my sen -sick ears, and I could, I am satisfied, have 
 been persuaded at that moment to allow r myself to be bodily 
 ejected into the roaring flood, as it danced and leaped before 
 my watery eyes as if in mockery of my woes. 
 
 Finally the stormy weather passed away, the warm sun 
 shone out upon a bright smooth sea, and as we sped along 
 over the beautiful waters, the sea-sick passengers one by 
 one made their appearance, and we became once more joy- 
 ful and gay. 
 
 Oapt II. A. F. JSTeynaber, a most courteous and pleasing 
 gentleman, seemed as if constantly studying the comfort of 
 his passengers, and when all else failed, as was the case 
 when most were sea-sick, kept their spirits buoyant by his 
 witty and jovial raillery. He taught us the game of Shuffle 
 Board, explained the mysteries of that wonderful play at 
 cards- particularly recommended to young ladies — called 
 Schwartz Peter, or "Muggins;" set off the pyrotechnic sig- 
 nals of the steamer at night for our amusement, and in a 
 thousand ways contributed to the general pleasure of his 
 passengers. 
 
 The " Bremen '* is as comfortable as any of the ocean 
 steamships; the attention of servants is excellent. The 
 
TRANS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 9 
 
 table, which is set four times each day, is bountifully 
 supplied with all the good things that can be had on 
 shore, and the variety of food as great as the supply. 
 As a matter of economy, quick transit and comfort, I 
 heartily recommend the North German Lloyd Steamships 
 to any of my countrymen who propose visiting the Conti- 
 nent, particularly if all their captains are like the gentle- 
 man who commands the "Bremen."' 
 
 The voyage soon drew to a close, for on the tenth day, at 
 4 P. M., land was to be seen from the steamer's deck— the 
 Scilly Isles— and at 6 the main land of Old England- 
 Lands' End — loomed up blue and .purple in the distance. 
 A most beautiful sunset greeted our vision after passing the 
 Lizard. The sky assumed the appearance of a walled city, 
 whose turrets and spires of crimson and vermillion were 
 tinged with a golden light. The illusion continued for some 
 minutes, and was much admired. The following morning 
 the Needles were passed, and at 10 A. M. we were anchored 
 off Cowes. It was a regatta day. The Queen's Cup was : < > 
 be raced for, and the harbor presented an unusually lively 
 and gay appearance ; the shipping was gaily decorated with 
 bunting ; the Royal Yacht, with the Queen on board, lay 
 near us; hundreds of sailing craft, steam and sail yachts, 
 and excursion boats were continually passing and repassing 
 us as we lay discharging specie, mail and passengers. The 
 ivy-clad towers of Osborn Castle peeped out from among 
 the foliage at us; and the verdant shores of the Isle of 
 Wight shone smilingly upon the festive scene. We left a 
 friend here— a lady friend— whose society was a great 
 pleasure to us all. After getting under weigh again a bet- 
 ter view was obtained of Osborn Castle, and also of Osborn 
 House, the residence of the Prince of Wales. On the 
 English shore — I mean the main land — among other objects 
 
LO TRANS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 of interest, the frigate on whieh Nelson won the battle of 
 Trafalgar, was pointed out to us. The newspapers which 
 were obtained at Cowes, shed but little light on events in 
 America since our departure, and with the exception of 
 g<»ld and stock quotations, nothing of interest under that 
 head was to be found. 
 
 I noticed, with much satisfaction, and after reading it, 
 felt inmieasureably easier in body and mind, (?) that "Her 
 Majesty drove out yesterday afternoon, accompanied by Her 
 Royal Highness, the Princess Louisa, the Marchioness of Ely 
 being in attendance," and also that " Her Majesty, and their 
 Royal Highnesses, the . Princess Louisa, the Princess Bea- 
 trice, the Duke of Edinburgh, Prince Leopold, and Prince 
 Louis Hesse, attended Divine service at Wappingham 
 Church this morning (3d)." I almost expected to see writ- 
 ten "were pleased to worship God at, etc." The effect 
 of this cheering and exciting intelligence upon my indivi 
 dual feelings, can be readily imagined when I announce 
 that I had a most vigorous appetite at luncheon. And, this 
 confidentially, dear reader, there were doubtless some ill- 
 minded people at our table, (although I hadn't found them 
 out during the voyage) who attributed my voraciousness to 
 the fact that I had partaken lightly of an early breakfast. 
 But such is " man's inhumanity to man." 
 
 During the remainder of the afternoon, and far into the 
 beautiful moon-lit night, we kept upon deck, bringing into 
 constant use our opera-glasses as we passed successively the 
 towns and cities of Portsmouth, Hastings, (where William 
 the Conqueror fought his memorable battle) Ryde, Brighton, 
 Folkstone, Dover, etc., and the points of Beachy Head, — 
 which better deserves the name of Mountain Head — Dun- 
 geness and others. We were also, with the help of a vivid 
 imagination and the captain's spy-glass, assisted to a sight 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 11 
 
 of the French coast. We could see the coast-lights, and 
 when we came on deck again on the following morning we 
 were far into the North Sea, with " water, water, every- 
 where." During the afternoon the coast of Holland "from 
 afar off," looked like a struggling fog bank ambitious to 
 rise. On the morning of the 6th, at 7 o'clock, the "Bre- 
 men" came to an anchor below the bar at Bremerhaven, and 
 at 10 we, passengers, together with other valuables, were 
 transferred to a tug-boat, and shortly after landed at the 
 town, whence a waiting train conveyed us rapidly (?) to 
 Bremen. 
 
 The novelty of a low, flat Dutch (Holland) looking coast, 
 the novelty of wind-mills, the novelty of tiled and thatched 
 roofs, of houses whose ambition seems to involve the idea 
 of an acute triangle, the base of which is the ground floor, 
 the novelty in men and women, in things animate and inani- 
 mate, in fine, the novelty of stubborn Continental stupidity, 
 demonstrated in a hundred ways, was really refreshing and 
 entertaining. 
 
 As the ladies — the American ladies- — of our passengers 
 were going to the Hotel de l'Europe, at Bremen, and as I 
 had no partiality to any other hotel, and a decided partiality 
 to the ladies, I went there too, and we soon found ourselves 
 snugly and comfortably ensconced in homelike and pleasant 
 rooms, the windows of which looked — the front out upon a 
 portion of the City Park, the rear upon a pleasant garden, 
 beautified by ivy vines, holly trees, flowers and pavillions, 
 with tables and chairs placed accidentally about for the 
 accommodation of open-air lovers, and the consumption of 
 necessaries and luxuries. Being without traveling com- 
 panions, and by no means of the solitary order of men, I 
 took a room in connection and partnership with a Prussian 
 gentleman, a native and citizen of Berlin, whose first name 
 
12 TRANS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 was Max (not of Sedelite-Calambourg-—" Grand Duchesse,") 
 
 and whose knowledge of the world, the French and English 
 languages, and particularly the German, made him not only 
 a most acceptable, but instructive companion. Max had 
 been voyaging in the States, and had intelligence enough 
 to discern our good qualities, and sense enough to acknow- 
 • them. His criticisms on our national and social errors 
 were comparatively just and impartial, and his education 
 and intelligence qualified him for the task. When we 
 drove up to the hotel there were servants in dress-coats to 
 open the door of the carriage ; there were servants in dress- 
 coats to relieve you of your baggage ; there were servants 
 in dress-coats to bow to you as you passed through the halls : 
 there were servants in dress-coats to fly before you and open 
 your room door ; there were servants in dress-coats at your 
 honorable service ; and there were servants in dress-coats in 
 your way when you did not want them, courting the high 
 distinction of being commanded by you to the performance 
 of any duty your distinguished mind, within the limits of 
 reason, might dictate, and all in irreproachable dress-coats 
 and shirt-fronts above slander. Hardly had our room door 
 •closed upon the excluded dress-coats when— 
 
 " With bow and cringe, flinging the parlor door upon its hinge," 
 
 appeared a person who in broken English informed us that 
 he was the " barbarr of ze hotel," and that he wanted our 
 decision on the momentous question of "to shave or not to 
 shave," and was prepared to carry out our wishes, if in the 
 affirmative, on the spot,' producing a bundle, I think by 
 Legerdemain, from I know not where, which subsequently 
 was discovered to contain all the paraphernalia of a ton- 
 serial inquisition. After he had left us, and Max and I 
 were alone again, he said to me, "You had slavery in 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 13 
 
 America, my dear sir, but the slavery of our country is 
 much worse than was the slavery in yours. These are our 
 slaves and worse than yours were, for they know the value 
 of liberty and are intelligent slaves ; slaves with two or 
 three languages on their tongues, and slaves as abject as your 
 Southern black-a-moor. You know not the evils of this 
 slavery ; but I know it and I assure you, my dear sir, * * * 
 but this is treason. I forget I am home again." 
 
 That evening, alone in my room, I sat reflecting on these 
 words of my friend Max, and I found much reason in them, 
 and as I thought grew glorious with pride, within myself, 
 that I was a child of that great land beyond the sea where 
 " all men are born free and equal." 
 

 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 15 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 SERVANTS AND GUIDE BOOKS, AND SOME IDEAS ABOUT 
 THEM — SIGHT SEEING IN BREMEN — ADIEU TO MY 
 COMPANIONS DE VOYAGE — BREMEN FLOWERS — BEER 
 GARDENS AND AMUSEMENTS — THE ROAD TO COLOGNE, 
 WITH A FEW REMARKS ON THE STREETS OF THE 
 LATTER CITY — AIX-LA-CHAPELLE. 
 
 Without pursuing to -any length, the train of thoughts 
 called into expression by reflection on the words of my 
 friend Max, I soon found myself cogitating on the present, 
 and the pursuit of happiness, without any heart for the 
 slaves who were in attendance to cater to my fancies. The 
 fact is, it is as human to be selfish as it is human to err ; 
 and I leave it to you, kind reader, if one does not expe- 
 rience an agreeable sensation when his landlord is obse- 
 quious and his landlord's minions servile. The kind of 
 flattery they use is none of your harsh, unnatural blarney ; 
 it is well studied, naturally uttered and — fearfully charged 
 for on your bill. But so frail is human nature that your 
 conceit is satisfied, and you pay for civility as you pay for 
 candles, as a matter of course. Republican, as I am, I 
 cannot but express my satisfaction at being waited upon at 
 table by a servant in faultless attire and scrupulously clean 
 hands. It gives one's dinner a relish, and refines the ani- 
 mal necessity of eating. 
 
 On the evening of our arrival at the hotel in Bremen, 
 Max and myself took tea, together with the ladies, in the 
 garden. The air was very sweet and mild, and the 
 flowers, shrubs, vines and shade trees made the novelty 
 
10 TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 more than - ■ r agreeable. It was half-past eight, yet quite 
 light enough for us to take our evening meal without gas 
 or candles. 
 
 In the afternoon we (Max, the ladies and myself) took 
 carriages and drove through sonic of the principal streets, 
 and then to the church, where we were shown the remains 
 of several once human bodies in a state of mummified pre- 
 servation : were told the age of the building, saw some very 
 ancient carving in wood, by no means pretty ; some stained 
 glass windows, and, as usual in foreign churches, several 
 oil paintings of undoubted antiquity. For particulars vide 
 M,urrav or Harpers' Hand-book. 
 
 I wish to express an opinion on the subject of tourists' 
 Letter- writing, and I think I can express that opinion here 
 better than Liter. I don't propose to tell you what can be 
 found in every guide book; that this or that church was 
 " built or commenced in the 12th century ;" that " on this 
 spot the noble this," or "the tyrannical that" did the other 
 thing: that "not far from this place" some foolish King- 
 did something consonant with his nature, or that " in this 
 bouse lived for many years the eccentric" noodle. The 
 guide books tell you all these things, and tell them much 
 bett t than I can ; for if I told them I should have to copy 
 the guide book or the guide, and of course alter the phrase- 
 i >L >gy, and naturally spoil the story. I write merely to give 
 an account of my impressions; to describe things and people 
 not described in guide books, and to do this in an original 
 manner, if possible, with now and then an idea of my own 
 in illustration of these impressions. Murray's hand-book 
 is the best descriptive traveler I have ever read; not that I 
 read it constantly, for I do not ; but it is good to have some 
 kind of an indicator to the sights of town or country, wher- 
 ry t v<>n may be, if you are not traveling with a valei-de- 
 
TRANS-ATLAXTIC SKETCHES. 17 
 
 place or co wrier. It is minute in its descriptions, and if 
 any one in the pursuit of knowledge is desirous of ascer- 
 taining the particulars of this or that building, town or 
 city, I would suggest Murray as a very good authority con- 
 densed. 
 
 Being a representative of a nation of progress, and of a 
 party of progress, I look to the present and the future with 
 the idea of ridiculing things of the past that in Europe so 
 impede the present and make progress in the future ignored 
 and unrecognized. They are great enemies in Europe to 
 progress, where progress will educate the masses. They 
 would have you believe that the dead issues of times as 
 dead as their originators, are the saving clauses to their 
 life and prosperity. They would have you believe that 
 those in power may break faith with those not in power, 
 as often as it please them, as they have often done and are 
 likely to so do again. So I look to the present with a view 
 to improve the future, and " let the dead bury the dead." 
 
 After the church, we visited the Court House, a very 
 ancient building, with carved front and window panes 01 
 small diamond shapes, and the wine cellars beneath it. 
 where we tried some of the wine, not the oldest I have 
 drank by any means. In the square before the Rathhaus 
 is a rudely cut stone statue of a knight, about 15 or 20 feet 
 high, who doubtless years ago slew many other knights, and 
 thereby became immortalized.* The Exchange is a very fine 
 and extensive building, and a great credit as well as ornament 
 to the city of Bremen. The ladies joined us at breakfast, in 
 the garden, the following morning. Two tame starlings made 
 free to hop upon our table, and receive from our hands bits 
 
 * Since writing the above I have learned from Murray that the statue is a 
 Eolandmule or Roland Column, and that many of them are found in Germany. 
 This one was erected in the 13th century, and is' intended as a symbol of the rights 
 and privileges of the town. 
 
18 TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 of bread. One, bolder than the other, went so far as to dip 
 bis head into the cream pitcher and take a drink, for which 
 liberty be was summarily dismissed the table. 
 
 As our fair companions de voyage proposed going on to 
 their destination that evening, I called about five o'clock to 
 offer them my services (which in any event was not much of 
 an oiler, since I was almost as ignorant of the customs as of 
 the language of this people). Of course there was a "little 
 mistake" in the bill, and though the fact of there being a 
 mistake may not appear strange, it would doubtless assume 
 an extraordinary my steriousness were it not that the error 
 was in favor of the landlord. So that being rectified and 
 the account adjusted, and the ladies and their trunks being 
 ready, and Captain Neynaber being in attendance to assist 
 them, we started off for the depot, where the trunks were 
 every one opened and examined, thereafter weighed, and 
 .all over 50 lbs. charged for and finally put somewhere out 
 of sight and a slip of paper given as a check for them. In 
 •due course the train came along, and we saw the ladies 
 safely seated in a carriage by themselves, with particular 
 instructions from Captain Neynaber to the guard to take 
 good care of and safely deliver them at their destination. 
 There were "good byes" said and "pleasant journeys" 
 wished and kind words spoken, and away went the train, 
 bearing with it friends whose acquaintance, although of to- 
 day, will ever be remembered by me with pleasure, and the 
 parting with whom will always be associated with sad regret. 
 There was a simple purity of idea and expression about this 
 family that was charming. Educated in New England, far 
 from the contamination of evil examples, and with the puri- 
 tanic — if you like — principles of their forefathers instilled 
 into their minds, liberally educated, and far from entertain- 
 ing bigoted or partixan views, with the simplicity of pure 
 
TRANS -ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 19 
 
 and beautiful women, they were as charming, interesting, and 
 delightful acquaintances as one could wish to find. It was 
 particularly refreshing to me to meet such ladies. I am 
 sorry to say it ; but the young women of to-day, generally, 
 all over the country, are not what they should be. We 
 have not those characteristics in young females, or we do 
 not develop them, that make good wives and mothers. We 
 have not that simplicity of character which distinguished 
 the lives of many noble women in years gone by. We do 
 not see in women now that devotion to domestic life which 
 makes her honored and honorable ; and when these virtues 
 are met with — as they are, thank God, sometimes — we can- 
 not but admire, respect and love their possessors. May the 
 pleasures anticipated by these ladies be fully realized, may 
 the primary objects of their journey be successfully at- 
 tained, and may they be returned safely to their native 
 land, uncontaminated by the follies of fashion and pride. 
 But I know they will. 
 
 With an apology for my dissertation, which I know will 
 be accepted, because the ladies are the cause of it, I return 
 to Bremen, the hospitality of several of whose citizens it 
 was my good fortune to enjoy during my stay there. 
 
 Bremen looks like a city cut out of stone. You might 
 fancy that, " many years ago, in the days of good King 
 Arthur," or some one else, a mighty worker in stone before 
 the Lord came down upon the City of Bremen, which your 
 fancy will suppose a great rock, and cut out of it streets and 
 houses, squares and churches, and left them to be peopled 
 in course of time by the wandering children of the earth. 
 The architecture is solid and clumsy, and has the appear- 
 ance of being conceived principally with a view to resisting 
 earthquakes. Every window-sill almost in Bremen is groan- 
 ing under a load of flower-pots, with blooming flowers in 
 
20 TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 them too. From the balconied and verandahed mansions 
 of the wealthy on the ramparts, to the cribbed, crooked 
 and distorted house fronts of the poor, in equally crooked, 
 cribbed and distorted streets, without side-walks, bloom- 
 ing and fragrant and many colored flowers are seen, pleas- 
 ing the love for natural art on the one hand, cheering 
 the lowly, yet contented, homes on the other. Flowers in 
 the hotel windows, flowers on the stone steps of houses, in- 
 stead of bannisters, flowers nodding and trembling in the 
 morning air from attic to basement windows. Flowers 
 beautiful, fragrant, everywhere. I declare I loved the 
 people merely for their love of flowers, and. often, as I 
 looked up and down a street, where flowers and vines were 
 struggling — it seemed as if for the mastership — over the 
 house fronts, have I thought of the hanging gardens of 
 Babylon The comparison may be extravagant, but never- 
 theless it came naturally. 
 
 I dined one day in Bremen with the family of a gentle- 
 man to whom I had a letter of introduction, and I never 
 spent a more pleasant afternoon in my life. The house, 
 beautifully situated on the old ramparts, in a luxuriant gar- 
 den, is covered with vines and flowers. Orange trees in 
 tubs, rare shrubs and exotics in pots, placed about in a pic- 
 tures* pie manner, while the beauties of the natural vegeta- 
 tion form an ensemble as delightful as can be imagined. 
 
 Alter dinner, coffee was served on the verandah over- 
 looking a portion of the garden ; and while we sat there 
 enjoying it and our segars, with the lady and daughter of 
 mine host near at hand, the sparrows came down upon the 
 steps, and even upon the table, to be fed by them with 
 bread crumbs. Then, turning from this beautiful picture, 
 as I hotelward go, 1 see women with the gait of men. I 
 see them swinging along the streets like beasts of burden, 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 21 
 
 with fardles on their backs or heads. I see them without 
 their loads, looking like female Atlases just relieved of the 
 world's weight, I see them so masculine in feature, form 
 and manner, that they need but men's clothes to make the 
 deception complete. 
 
 Boys with men's faces and men's coats pass me ; girls 
 with old women's wrinkles stare at me ; men with children's 
 jackets on look stupid as I pass them — all with that lazy, 
 dragging, dreary step, as if the road of life were a sad and 
 weary way to them, and they fain would end it, 
 
 I was still studying these things — still giving reasons for 
 them to myself, then rejecting them — when Capt. Neynaber 
 called and desired me to accompany him to a theatre and 
 garden near at hand ; so I went. The admission was six 
 cents, about. The performance, on the variety order, very 
 good. From the theatre the door opened into a large garden, 
 beautifully illuminated with Chinese lanterns. When the 
 performance was over, the band stationed itself in a pavillion 
 in the centre, and played some very good music, while fire- 
 works were set off in different parts of the garden. 
 
 Seated at tables all about, beneath shade trees and in 
 natural arbors, were men or women and children drinking 
 beer or wine, all enjoying themselves rationally, without 
 confusion, noise or rude behavior. Could I parallel this 
 place of amusement with anything of the kind among us, 
 without giving the verdict in favor of the Tivoli, Bremen? 
 I think not ! Could I sit at home as I did at Bremen, for 
 an hour, enjoying the music and the cool night air in a pub- 
 lic garden, without being the witness of some rude conduct, 
 some drunken wantonness, some malicious rowdyism? I 
 think not. Both countries have national evils. This is one 
 of Germany's national virtues. 
 
 Sunday morning the 9th I spent in my room at the hotel, 
 
22 TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 writing and reading. In the afternoon Capt, Neynaber sent 
 his son with an invitation to me, to walk with his family 
 and take tea at his house, whieh invitation I cheerfully ac- 
 c pted. We left the city by a beautiful broad road lined 
 on each side with fine shade trees, and some two miles' out 
 of the city halted at a fine garden where were a great many 
 family parties sitting at tables scattered about and partaking 
 of refreshments. There was a miniature fish-pond here, a 
 shooting-gallery, a bowling-alley, cages containing rabbits, 
 monkeys, etc. The building on the premises, quite a large 
 one, was divided into a cafe, a dining-hall, and several small 
 apartments for parties. The same quiet order prevailed 
 everywhere. We sent the ladies home in a carriage, the 
 captain and myself preferring to walk into town, stopping 
 at one or two gardens on our way to witness the dancing in 
 halls erected for that purpose. I spent a very pleasant eve- 
 ning at the captain's house, and next morning, at eleven 
 o'clock, started for Cologne. 
 
 The same annoyances the ladies were subjected to at the 
 station, I in my turn experienced — my baggage was exam- 
 ined, weighed, paid a fare for and a paper check given for 
 it. As I was going to take my seat in the cars, I met Capt. 
 Neynaber who came to assist me, if necessary, and wish me 
 good-bye. He is an excellent man, and I can hardly say 
 enough in his praise. 
 
 The road to Cologne must be, to a native, rather monoto- 
 nous. The country through which it runs is flat and low, 
 but thoroughly cultivated. It would have been a dull day's 
 ride to me, I think, if it were not for a repetition of the 
 novelties already mentioned, besides women in leathern 
 aprons and wooden si iocs working in the fields with men ; 
 women at the small stations in bright red petticoats and 
 bright blue jackets and uncouth head-dresses. Soldiers of 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 23 
 
 tlic Prussian army, here, there, everywhere. The railway 
 guards and station-masters in silver buttoned uniforms, 
 trimmed off with red — the hedged railroad, as clean and as 
 clear as a private park road — made the ride to Cologne a 
 pleasant and interesting one. 
 
 At Wunsdorff I changed cars, and had an hour's time for 
 dinner. At nine o'clock we crossed the iron bridge over 
 the Ehine, and I was soon at the Hotel de Mayence, wash- 
 ing off the dust of travel and preparing myself for supper. 
 
 I was awakened next morning, at an early hour, by the 
 carts and towns-people passing in the street just below my 
 window. My room was on the first floor front. You can't 
 exactly tweak your across-the-street neighbor's nose with- 
 out going out of the house in Cologne, as they say can be 
 done in Genoa, but you can certainly wish him good morn- 
 ing in an ordinary conversational tone, and he will assuredly 
 hear you ; and you are not obliged to go to the window 
 either, provided no cart be passing through the stony street, 
 for I can certify that after I was dressed and had pulled my 
 curtains up, I sat at the table writing, and was occasionally 
 much amused as I, from time to time, glanced into the 
 room across the street at a family at breakfast, ivhose voices 
 were perfectly audible to me. 
 
 My experience in some of the old streets of Bremen had 
 prepared me, I confess, for much worse ones in Cologne ; 
 but a street of the former, compared to a street of the latter, 
 is like comparing Broadway to New Street. In some of 
 the Bremen streets the sidewalks were two or three feet 
 wide. Such streets in Cologne have no sidewalks, and the 
 pedestrian is warned out of the way of vehicles by the 
 cracking of the driver's whip, which in the narrow, crooked 
 street sounds like a patent torpedo just behind him. Streets 
 with no sidewalks then, and streets with sidewalks a foot 
 
24 TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 vride, and streets with sidewalks varying from that to five 
 feet— very few of these— and you can imagine what the 
 pleasures of ;t street promenade in Cologne are; streets 
 where a clumsy cab, coming around the corner, with its 
 torpedo whip, bails another cab to stop and give the right 
 of way ; for they cannot pass each other in many of these 
 streets: streets where the house-tops on each side are 
 striving, by closer connection, to become better acquainted ; 
 streets with dirty gutters and foul smells; streets with in- 
 numerable "original" and "genuine" Joanna Maria Farina 
 Cologne water manufacturers and dealers in them, many of 
 whom extend their ramifications to every great city on the 
 globe, by agencies at Paris, London, " New Jork (with a J), 
 and elsewhere. 
 
 Cologne ! the romance of thy waters is forever gone ! 
 I took an early train for Aix-la-Chapelle, for the purpose 
 of visiting the United States Consul there, Mr. W. H. 
 Vesey, an old family friend. I found him at the Hotel du 
 Grand Monarque, well and hearty. The same genial, kind, 
 elegant and courtly gentleman, with ten years more of time 
 upon him than when I saw him last in France, but not a 
 whit changed. It was a great pleasure to meet him. I 
 dined with him, visited the Cathedral, where the tomb of 
 Charlemagne was pointed out, and listened to an amusing 
 legend about the bronze wolf, the pine-apple and the devil's 
 thumb outside the doors (which can undoubtedly be found 
 in Murray, though I don't know). Drank some (a teaspoon- 
 full, perhaps,) of the hot mineral water. It tasted much as 
 a '• decomposed hen fruit" smells. At 5.30 I tock the train 
 back to Cologne, having passed another most agreeable and 
 pleasant day. 
 
TRANS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 25 
 
 CHAPTEK III. 
 
 AIX-LA-CHAPELLE — COLOGNE AGAIN — FRENCH AND GER- 
 MAN COMMERCIAL TRAVELERS — A BATH IN THE 
 RHINE, AND STREET SCENES — THE CATHEDRAL, ETC. — 
 DUSSELDORF, MEETING WITH A FRIEND — SCENES IN 
 DUSSELDORF, MILITARY REVIEW, ETC. — COLOGNE FOR 
 THE THIRD AND LAST TIME — THE RHINE TO MAYENCE. 
 
 I have not quite done with Aix-la-Chapelle yet. 
 
 At street corners and otherwise than at street corners — in 
 niches in the walls of houses — I observed gaudily painted 
 images of the Virgin Mary with the child Jesus, images of 
 the Saviour alone, almost life size, unnaturally painted and 
 impaled upon the cross, a narrow shed over the figure from 
 the top of the cross, to protect it from the rain. Before 
 one a candle in a lantern burning, before another a poor 
 wretch, upon his knees, without the price of a candle 
 in the world, not knowing where to lay his head, not know- 
 ing where to find a mouthful of food, ragged and wretched, 
 desperate perhaps, yet on his knees before the image, pray- 
 ing. Praying for what? For death, for food, for strength 
 to live without it, perhaps ! God knows, yet there upon 
 his knees, bare headed, in the bright and burning Summer's 
 sun, the air stirring his thin and whitened locks, was this 
 fragment of a man. And the world passed on, to the right 
 and to the left — the priest in black and dismal robes, the 
 monk in drab and temporal looking vestments, soiled no 
 doubt with wine; and from the altar steps the padre 
 chants the mass, in church hard-by ; his robes are rare and 
 costly ; in the dimly lighted, richly ornamented church, 
 
20 TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 his bass and steady voice sounds solemn to the kneeling 
 there, and through the colored panes the sun-light makes its 
 rainbow path far up the nave. 'Tis still and solemn here, 
 vet in ilie street, made wild and noisy by the voice of man. 
 before the gaudy cross, still on his ragged knees, the poor 
 wight benda Which, think you, Christian friend, of these 
 two gates, the gate to Heaven? 
 
 The evening of my return to Cologne I went with two 
 Frenchmen and a Prussian to the cafe in the "passage," 
 and thence over a pontoon bridge to a garden across the 
 river, where was a hand of music. My companions were 
 commercial travelers, whom I accidentally met upon the 
 ears. They recklessly indulged in beer, and finally 
 their arguments became intensely amusing to me, especially 
 as it tinned on languages. The Frenchmen could neither 
 of them speak any language but French ; the Prussian 
 spoke, besides his own, English, French, Spanish, Italian, 
 Dutch and Russian. The Frenchmen held that whereas 
 everybody with any common sense learned French, it was 
 not necessary for them to learn the other languages ; and the 
 reason common sense people learned French was, because 
 French modes, French goods and French styles were neces- 
 sary to the general happiness, comfort and pleasure of out 
 side barbarians. The Prussian held this argument — as 
 indeed it was — not only selfish and mean, but untrue, and 
 attributed the ignorance of other languages among the 
 French to a feeling of superiority over other nations. So 
 from one thing to another, until they had matched armies, 
 re-fought the Austrian campaign, and fought an ideal one 
 between Prussia and France — the one making Prussia issue 
 edicts in Paris, the other two with the French army destroy- 
 ing or stealing works of art in Berlin. I was intensely 
 amused throughout the whole argument, and finally begged 
 
TRANS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 27 
 
 them to talk of other things until a war really did occur ; 
 so we walked amicably back to the hotel, and went to bed. 
 At six next morning the Prussian called at my room -door 
 and asked if I would accompany him to a bath in the Rhine, 
 which I readily agreed to do, and soon was dressed and 
 joined him in the hotel court. A walk of half an hour 
 brought us beyond the line of fortifications up the river, 
 where a fine swimming bath was moored far out in the 
 rapid tide, and where for nearly an hour we enjoyed our- 
 selves immensely. 
 
 As we walked along the river's side I noticed canal boats 
 coming up against the tide, with men dragging at the line 
 instead of horses, all on an angle of 45 degrees, with the tow- 
 line over their shoulders and their arms hanging over it, 
 and all with long pipes in their mouths, half asleep, dumb 
 as cattle, taking the place of cattle. As I saw them, I 
 thought of my friend Max, of trans- Atlantic acquaintance, 
 and of his words : " These are our slaves." As we came 
 into the town again market boats along the quay were 
 discharging freight, and I saw old women and young girls 
 staggering under baskets of fruit and vegetables, as they 
 came up the stone step from the river's level to the street, 
 and I thought of my friend Max and his words again. 
 Squads of soldiers, with the famous needle-gun, passed and 
 re-passed us before we reached the hotel — soldiers in squads 
 without arms, soldiers singly and in twos and threes, and 
 again I thought of Max and his words to me in Bremen. 
 My Prussian friend and I breakfasted together, then he 
 went to his business (patent kerosene lamps), I to mine 
 (sight-seeing). I visited the Cathedral first. 
 
 I had from the hotel a commissionaire or guide who smelt 
 horribly of liquor, and who insisted in getting very near 
 me when imparting information. To begin with, this was 
 
28 TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 disagreeable, but as I did not discover it until our departure 
 from the hotel, I concluded to keep on. I am opposed to 
 guides. I never employ them unless unacquainted with 
 the language of the country I am visiting. I can always get 
 along as well without them and much more economically ; 
 I took this one at Cologne (the first and last with me during 
 my trip,) more for charity than anything else. 
 
 The Cathedral is a gigantic mass of carved stone, and a 
 study to any one, whether interested directly in architecture 
 <>r not ; its unfinished state — on one side the carving clipped 
 and ruined, black and green with age, on the other the stone 
 quite fresh-looking — gives a striking evidence of the per- 
 severance and yet weakness of man. The architect is 
 unknown ; and one of the legendary tales connected with 
 him and the cathedral seems not unreasonable, when one 
 thinks of the more than human mind that conceived the 
 plan. It relates that he made a bargain with the devil to 
 furnish him the plan, and that having failed in some portion 
 of his agreement, he was carried off by his infernal majesty 
 bodjr and soul with all the plans and calculations regarding 
 the construction of the edifice. On entering the church, 
 the wonder of the spectator is increased, and the vast area 
 covered by the building is only understood. The stained 
 glass windows are the finest and richest in color and shading 
 I have ever seen. All the objects of interest were duly 
 visited by me, and I heard the history of every tomb, 
 chapel and painting, told off in a monotonous voice by a 
 healthy priest, as if he was saying an Ave. I must dwell 
 a moment in that part of the Cathedral named the Treasury, 
 where in addition to the most costly crosses, and mitres and 
 jewelled robes, and candlesticks and the service of the 
 church, are two caskets of incredible value. The one of 
 gold and silver holds the archives of the church, the other 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 29 
 
 entirely of gold, as large as a bureau, is said to contain the 
 bones of the Magi, whose names are inscribed on the 
 skulls, exposed to view, in rubies. The whole is beautifully 
 carved for the times, in bas-relief, and covered with jewels. 
 
 As I was going out, a dirty -looking priest shoved a silver 
 plate at me, begging for something to help finish the church. 
 (A fee had already been paid for seeing it.) At the door, 
 beggars, squalid, ragged, wretched-looking creatures, asked 
 in piteous tones for alms. In the town, people were, perhaps, 
 starving ; many poor were sick and needy, and yet, with the 
 wealth of millions in baubles, the church asks for more. 
 Asks more, with starving wretches at its portals ; asks for 
 more, with fatal sickness and terrible poverty in the streets 
 near by ; asks the hard- worked laborer for his pay, the poor 
 and needy farmer for a portion of his gains ; asks, and re- 
 ceives, with useless millions at its command. 
 
 Max, you are right again, these taxed and tribute paying- 
 masses, taxed by Church and State, these ignorant and fear- 
 ful people are your slaves. Since 1817, over $3,550,000 
 have been expended by the church, preserving the old parts 
 from cle^ay and building slowly the new. 
 
 This three-and-a-half million came from the people, di- 
 rectly or indirectly. 
 
 Among other interesting facts connected with this cathe- 
 dral is the fact that the heart of Maria de Medicis was once 
 buried here. The remainder of the morning I spent visit- 
 ing the museum, the zoological garden, and the markets. 
 The fruit markets — rich, ripe, and luscious fruit — were the 
 only pleasant reminiscences I have of Cologne, if I except the 
 bath in the Ehine ; but that even was outside the city's walls. 
 
 After visiting the Cathedral and the markets, and the 
 iron tubular bridge over the Khine and other places of in- 
 terest, and after tiring myself out in the narrow, nasty 
 
30 TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 streets of Cologne, T took an afternoon train to Dusseldorf. 
 An hour's ride brought me to Obercassel (with only two 
 changes of cars on the road), whence a clumsy, rickety. 
 broken-springed cab, drawn by a wretched horse and navi- 
 gated by a sleepy driver, and in company with three large, 
 fat German women and a little, lean German man, I was 
 jerked along the river's side and bumped over a pontoon 
 bridge into the town of Dusseldorf— the seat of German art, 
 —the only impediment in the course of transfer being a short 
 respite on the bridge to the horse, who dragged us a funeral 
 gait, by reason of a halt to give the right of way to a flock 
 of at least a thousand dirty sheep and twenty dirty men, 
 women and children who were driving them. 
 
 Under an arched passage, through a narrow street, where 
 the houses looked as if trying to get out of your reach ; 
 through another narrow street, where the houses looked as 
 if reaching over for you ; through another narrow street, 
 where the houses looked indifferently at you, into a broad 
 avenue, lined with trees — the town's old moat made into a 
 lake all along it — fine buildings and fine stores ornamenting 
 it, and lively, happy looking people promenading on it, 
 all along this broad avenue to the Europaischer Hof. 
 Then the usual form: a room, a wash, a clean shirt, a 
 feeling of independence, a walk or a ride. Carriages are 
 so cheap in Germany, that it is economy in regard to shoe 
 Leather to ride. At Aixda-Chapelle 10 cents, about, for a 
 cab from one designated spot to another — Dusseldorf about 
 the same. 
 
 I weul first to the Consular Agent's to find the address of 
 a gentleman with whom it was my good fortune to become 
 acquainted in New-York, three or four }^ears ago, a native 
 of Holland, who is educating his son at Dusseldorf He 
 was delighted to see me, and his kindness and hospitality 
 
TRANS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 31 
 
 certainly proved it, and when he heard of my intention to 
 go np the Ehine, agreed to hurry up his business affairs in 
 Dusseldorf and go with me as far as Frankfort, where he 
 would remain some time and then go on to Switzerland. 
 I was so well pleased with this arrangement and the 
 prospect of his company, that I at once agreed to it and 
 found a day and a half at Dusseldorf well and pleasantly 
 spent. 
 
 There is a beautiful little park here, and with ponds and 
 flower gardens, and rustic bridges and old, full-grown trees, 
 and in the centre a " Casino," where a band of music from 
 the garrison played beautifully for two hours in the after- 
 noons, and where the society and style of Dusseldorf passes 
 the time pleasantly, chatting among themselves and drinking 
 wine or beer. A half bottle of good Rhine wine for 10 cents ; 
 what think you of that my wine-drinking friends ? 
 
 It was at the Music Conversazionne — if you will accept 
 the term — of Dusseldorf that I first became aware of the 
 fact that there existed handsome women in Germany. I 
 believed that there were handsome women in Germany, but 
 I had not seen any — they had kept out of sight ; but during 
 the two hours so spent in the Dusseldorf Park I saw many 
 of them — all kinds of beauty, too. There was the blonde, 
 with rich luxuriant tresses, golden as the ripened grain, and 
 twisted and tortured into a chignon of wondrous mastership, 
 with the pink of health and beauty on her cheeks and the 
 light of youth and happiness beaming from her fair blue 
 eyes ; the brunette, whose raven-wing chevelure and down- 
 cast eye gave a look of sweet sadness to her Grecian features. 
 There were beauties of all kinds, beauties of all ages ; beau- 
 ties in all colors and beauties in any number. 
 
 I was awakened the morning following my arrival before 
 six o'clock, by the music of a regiment passing the hotel, 
 
32 TRANS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 on its way to the parade ground not far distant, and as it 
 was a lovely morning I dressed myself and started out to 
 see the morning drill. The inspiring effect of military 
 music, the morning's sun reflected from the bayonets and 
 polished brass work of the Prussian infantry casques, the 
 orders of the officers, the winding of the clarions and the 
 prompt and rapid movement of the troops, produced a very 
 charming effect, and made the early morning pass very 
 agreeably. About four thousand infantry and a thousand 
 cavalry participated in the drill. On my way back to the hotel 
 I passed several heavily laden dog carts, with poor brutes 
 harnessed to them, who, with their tongues lolling from 
 their mouths, strained every muscle to drag the load; while 
 a lazy peasant, pipe m mouth, and half asleep rested himself 
 upon the shafts and let the poor dogs do the hard work. I 
 think sometimes that the horse is too noble an animal to 
 be made a beast of burden of, but for dogs to be put to 
 hard labor, it is pitiable. 
 
 After seeing the two picture- galleries of Dusseldorf, and 
 walking about in some of its principal streets, (new part,) 
 you have seen all that can interest you, and naturally desire 
 a change. So the morning of the second day after my ar- 
 rival came not unwelcomely, though it came with chilly 
 wind and dismal rain. I was awakened early again by mil- 
 itary music and met my friend Mr. V. at the Station. About 
 seven o'clock we started for Cologne, and in due course ar- 
 rived at that city. After some bother finding my baggage, 
 (there's always a bother about baggage in Europe,) we got 
 to the steamboat and secured seats on the forward deck, put 
 on our overcoats and tried to make ourselves comfortable, 
 which was in a measure effected, notwithstanding the drizzly 
 rain. An awning kept that from wetting us, so with our 
 
TRANS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 33 
 
 "broadcloth, close buttoned to the chin," we sat on dock 
 determined to see the Rhine at all hazards. 
 
 The drizzle continued until we reached Bonn, when it 
 suddenly stopped, and then very suddenly also the sun 
 burst through the clouds and a breeze denoted that the 
 wind had changed, and the disagreeable prospect of a rainy 
 day upon the Rhine vanished. 
 
 The boat was crowded with passengers, among whom the 
 (traditional may I say ? or) habitual English tourist, was a 
 marked, and strongly marked too, feature. With Scotch 
 cap upon his head, opera-glasses in one hand, guide-book in 
 the other, a satchel over one shoulder, and his opera-glass- 
 case over the other by straps, the breeze fanning his 
 "leg of mutton" whiskers out from each side of his face, 
 with an air of perfect self-satisfaction, and evident and un- 
 questionable superiority over other men, he sits upon the 
 deck from Cologne to Mayence, and " does " the Rhine. 
 He has " done " it several times, my " deah fellah, you 
 know, and reallj' begins to, to find it a bore, this Rhine, you 
 know." 
 
 I remember 'tis ten years gone b}^, I was in the restaurant 
 of the Grand Hotel du Louvre, and near by were seated two 
 Englishmen ; soon there entered another, who after saluting 
 the other two, said as he took his seat, that he had been im- 
 proving his morning by " doing " the Louvre. It was twelve 
 o'clock ; he could not have been at it more than two hours. 
 To appreciate this absurd speech one must know at least 
 what this magnificent Repository of Art is. 
 
 From Cologne to Bonn the Rhine is excessively tame in 
 
 point of scenery, but the low banks ornamented with quaint 
 
 houses, and boats of extraordinary model, passing us bound 
 
 down the river, relieved it of its otherwise monotony. Even 
 
 3 
 
;»,[ TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 from Bonn to Coblentz the river is not rich in beautiful 
 landscape, excepl where 
 
 " The castled crag of Draclienfels 
 Fn.wn o'er the wide and winding Rhine/'— ' 
 
 which istakeu from the guide Baedeker, who in turn took 
 Li from Byron. The height of this ruin from the river is 
 wonderful, and every projecting rock up the mountain's side 
 = LS to possess ;in interest for the beholder. The fortress of 
 Ehrenbreitstein, opposite Coblentz, is magnificently grand ; 
 and one can almost imagine, from the name, the beauty and 
 strength it so pre-eminently possesses. From Coblentz to 
 Mayenee the Rhine is certainly a most enchanting and grand 
 picture. It is not more so naturally than our Hudson, but 
 the winding river with mountains rising on both sides of it, 
 shutting it out of sight every mile or so, and giving the 
 impression of a chain of fairy lakes ; the ruined towers of 
 Stolzenfels, Marxburg, Rhinefels and Rkmestein, ivy-clad 
 and crumbling, perched upon the highest points of land. 
 the quaint and meagre villages at the waters edge, and every 
 one with painted saints in niches in the walls, the watch- 
 towers here and there, the Gothic spires of rural churches 
 peeping out from amongst luxuriant foliage, the mountains 
 cultivated with the vine from base to summit, the peasantry 
 in odd and uncouth costumes, rocky heights pierced by 
 tunnels for the railway, the legendary lore of every spot, 
 the historic fame of every foot, the interest attached to 
 every hamlet, all tend to make the Rhine the most enchant- 
 ing river in the world. I believe I could pass months along 
 its banks, mentally drinking to intoxication the enchant- 
 ment it so profusely gives. 
 
 I was not feeling well when I left Cologne that morning, 
 I,,,! before sunset I was not only cured— and I had been 
 suffering bodily pain too— but I was actually elated and 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 35 
 
 invigorated. My friend, Mr. V., too, kept my spirits effer- 
 vescing by his jovial companionship and his witty and 
 amusing anecdotes ; and I shall ever remember with plea- 
 sure, I shall often revert with joy, as one of the sunshiny 
 spots of my life, to my passage up the Khine. 
 
 About eight o'clock Ave passed " Sweet Bingen," famed 
 not only in history but in song, as the home of the " Soldier 
 of the Legion who lay dying in Algiers." At ten we ar- 
 rived at Mayence, where we took a carriage and drove 
 across the river on the pontoon bridge to Castel, and, fati- 
 gued with the pleasures of the day, I soon sought repose in 
 a comfortable bed at the Hotel Barth. 
 
TRANS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 37 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 CASTEL — WIESBADEN — THE CURSAAL AND THE GARDENS 
 — GAMBLING AND SOME IDEAS THEREON — A RIDE — 
 SCENES ABOUT THE GAMING TABLES— CASTEL TO FRANK- 
 FORT, AND SCENES IN THE LATTER CITY — THE ROAD 
 TO HEIDELBERG — THE ECCENTRIC ENGLISH FAMILY — 
 HEIDELBERG AND ENVIRONS— THE CHATELET AND THE 
 VOLUBLE WAITER — THE CASTLE. 
 
 The last chapter closed, leaving me fatigued and sleepy 
 at the Hotel Barth, in Castel, on the Rhine, across the river 
 (by a bridge of boats) from Mayence. I was up early, how- 
 ever, on the following morning ; first, because the garrison, 
 near the hotel, was up, and nois}^ with trumpets and drums, 
 and bands of music ; second, because the merry morning 
 sun found me abed, and teased my eyes open ; third, be- 
 cause my friend, Mr. V., was an early riser, and had 
 received my promise to meet him in the breakfast-room at 
 seven o'clock. So, being only a few moments behind-hand, 
 we had our coffee and eggs together, and then walked 
 over the bridge of boats to Mayence, across the river 
 Rhine. Here we took a can iage and drove about the city: 
 Every public building seemed a Caserne, every male habi- 
 tant a soldier, to the right and left, soldiers, before and be- 
 hind bugles sounding, horses prancing (military horses), 
 squads of brass capp'd soldiers marching, single soldiers 
 loafing, pairs of soldiers drinking, and at every street cor- 
 ner an image of the Yirgin Mary. Images in stone, images 
 in plaster, images clothed for winter weather, painted, 
 images in summer vestments, unpainted, but always images. 
 
38 TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 I was amused, forgive me For being amused at this idolatry, 
 ,. at the corner of a street, in a niche in the wall, a 
 four-fool statue of the Virgin, high up, about the second 
 story : a shop at the corner, and over the shop door, between 
 the image of the Virgin and the door-top „ itself, another 
 image, an image of which we have the original, but not 
 quite so unfaithfully represented, an image two feet high, 
 an image black as the Styx, with a coral crown on its head, 
 and eyes betokening gin, and mouth like a raw beef- 
 steak, holding a dark-green salad leaf towards the sun. sans 
 eoat, sans pants, sans everything in the tailoring line— a 
 slander on the sons of Africa's burning sands. This image 
 meant something, at least that was comprehended by those 
 who saw it daily; it meant that adulterated tobacco was 
 sold in the shop beneath. What did the other image above 
 mean, that was not comprehended by those who saw it 
 daily? The image with the pea-green robe, and a blood- 
 colored child in its arms, and a gilt crown upon its head, 
 before which the peasant knelt, "and toward which the lov- 
 ing timid mother held her child. What did this tawdry 
 image mean, I have asked, and the answer comes, telling 
 that it means slavery of the soul. The tobacconist's sign 
 was tvpical too of a slavery once existing with us— the 
 slavery of the body— now a thing of the past. These signs 
 ,,f the Church of Rome are typical of the slavery of the 
 soul, a thing of the past, the present and the future. The 
 mental note I took of all this would read if written, and 
 tor pages, too, " A study on Images, Mayence, 1868.'" Let 
 us leave the images then and Mayence. The drosche 
 driver cracks his whip, and around a corner we go, scatter- 
 in-- right and left groups of idle women gossipers, children 
 and dogs. 1 was feeling at this moment all the American 
 national pride my heart was capable of containing, and pos- 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 89 
 
 sibly it was working in me to such an extent that it came 
 out at my pores, and so impregnated the atmosphere as to 
 make the world about me aware that a live Yankee, or some 
 foreign animal was in the midst of Mayence. However, 
 that may be, I can assert, that an inhabitant, either of the 
 city or its environs, from malice, or the reason given, cer- 
 tainly without any provocation on my part, struck my 
 only ungloved hand, so violently and suddenly, and pro- 
 duced so much pain, that it immediately began to swell un- 
 til it became quite deformed in consequence. I was at the 
 time " laying back" in the carriage, resting my hands upon 
 the handle of my umbrella. As quick as thought I knocked 
 the vile thing senseless at my feet, and in another moment 
 killed him with one stroke of my umbrella handle — a heavy 
 knotted one. My friend, Mr. Y., who had been intently 
 engaged with his thoughts, questioned me, with a look of 
 astonishment, for an explanation. I pointed to my swollen 
 hand, and then to the lifeless remains of the victim of his 
 own imprudence. Mr. Y. seized the corpse by the wings — 
 I forgot to state that it was a species of wasp — and flung it 
 from the carriage with an expression of disgust, while I 
 applied my mouth to the stung part of my hand to suck 
 out the poison. So, finally over the bridge of boats again, 
 leaving the city and its images behind us, across the river 
 Rhine into Castel once more. 
 
 At eleven o'clock we took the cars for Wiesbaden ; ten min- 
 utes after we were there. Gaining the street in front of the sta- 
 tion, a long avenue bordered with trees is bef< >re us. This is 
 intersected at right angles with another avenue, likewise 
 bordered with shade trees, making a green arcade from the 
 railroad station to the Cursaal. Up the avenue then ; every 
 one is going that Avay. Houses and gardens to the right, 
 hotels and grim port cocheres to the left. Everywhere the 
 
4-0 TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 dismal tfhite and black flag, from every house top, hotel 
 fronl and villa balcony. Eere, just in front, like the sun- 
 shine in a thunder cloud, the glorious Stars and Stripes of 
 the United States undulate to the gentle breeze. We have 
 no time to asm-tain to what is due this displayed bunting 
 f the land across the sea, but on with the crowd we go, 
 towards the Cursaal. 
 
 A Long, Bee building, columned and arcaded, its counter- 
 part ehjace, wide apart though, with two broad carriage- 
 ways and a pretty park between— a park with fountains 
 playing in it— and among the branches of whose trees the 
 birds chirped deafeningly. Under the arcades on each side, 
 goods displayed temptingly, frightful prices asked for them 
 hum lest I v." extravagant prices got for them naturally; for 
 every sho£> tended by a pretty, interesting, smirking crea- 
 ture,\vho%liows you her wares so temptingly, who praises 
 them so prettily, who takes your money so coquettishly, and 
 sells the goods and you so unassumingly, that you declare, 
 x By Jove, she is a lovely creature, and deserves to dispose 
 of her entire stock at great profit." 
 r For objects of Swiss manufacture, girls in the peasant 
 stumes of the Tyrolese and Austrian provinces, etc., it was 
 £ very gay, very attractive,, but very expensive, you know. 
 At the end of the park, and so situated as to make the long, 
 arcaded and column -fronted buildings look like wings be- 
 longing to it, stands the Cursaal, with its cafes and restaur- 
 ants and reading rooms, and lounging and ball room and 
 gambling saloons. Saloons fit for monarchs to dwell in; 
 richly, even gorgeously furnished, frescoed and gilded, 
 decked ou1 with every allurement for the eye, and spread 
 like a silver and gold spider's web, to catch its human flies. 
 lo>i?r immense saloons, four immense gaming tables, four 
 immense struggling, excited crowds, from eleven in the 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 41 
 
 morning to twelve at night. How many ruined ones I 
 cannot say. Behind the Cursaal, which, by the way, my 
 friend, Mr. V., called the Curs'd-saal, or damned saloon, is 
 a beautiful garden Park, with flowers and lakes (small ones) 
 and fountains, and rustic bridges and beautiful walks in 
 groves— a charming spot — frequented mostly, however, by 
 nurses and bonnes and female attendants with children, 
 whose parents, male and female, are — gambling. Gigantic 
 geranium and orange trees in flower, in wooden boxes, 
 are set all about the exterior of the Cursaal. In apavillion, 
 immediately in front of its principal entrance, a band of 
 music from the garrison, playing beautifully; crowds of 
 people, young and old, beautiful and otherwise, walking, 
 lounging, beer drinking, ice cream eating, smoking, talk- 
 ing, the soldier and the civilian, the priest and the rascal ; 
 personages with rows of medals on their breasts, personages 
 without medals eating dirt to them ; the local social villain, 
 the cosmopolitan social villain ; the Church, the State, Avar, 
 peace, art, science, good, bad, virtue, sin, all mingling to- 
 gether in the moving crowd, all brushing skirts in the gar- 
 den of the Cursaal ; and in the lulls of music, as it became 
 soft and sweet, out from the open windows, far above the 
 noise of the crowd without, far above the suppressed breath- 
 ing and low murmurings of the four struggling crowds within, 
 came the chink, chink, chink of gold, and the cries of the 
 bankers as the cards were dealt and the stakes lost or won. 
 
 We dined, Mr. Y. and I, at the Hotel Grimenwalde— a 
 very good dinner, including wine — for, I think, one and a 
 half guilders, and while we ate an hour and a half (six 
 courses and dessert) two pretty Tyrolese girls played very 
 charmingly their native music, with guitar and pipe and 
 castinets, and with several other instruments to me un- 
 known by name. It was very pretty — so novel too. They 
 
42 TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 wore the shepherdess hat, with a rosette and feather, and 
 short dresses of gay color, low laced corsage. Mack velvet 
 jackets and ruffles of lace at the shoulders, and their beau- 
 tiful bare necks and arms were very attractive, and alto- 
 gether they looked very picturesque I can assure you. 
 Alter dinner and coffee we took a ride up out of the 
 valley in which Wiesbaden lies so snugly, by a picturesque 
 #6ad, to the Russian Chapel, an expensive structure in 
 colored marbles, containing considerable richness in interior 
 decoration and the tomb of some noted female, whose effigy 
 in white marble, caps the tomb {vide Baedecker.) Through 
 the grating and pink colored glass of the side door, opposite 
 the tomb, a view in panorama of the valley and Wiesbaden 
 is had. The effect of the light and color of the glass on the 
 landscape is beautiful, and produces a picture more like the 
 creation of some fantastic magic than natural scenery. By 
 another road we gained the Cursaal Park again, and took 
 tea in the garden, walked about after and visited the gambling 
 tables again. The same insatiable, eager crowds, the same 
 monotonous voiced bankers, the same chinking of gold, the 
 same stoic ami dispassioned faces, the same excited and pas- 
 sionate ones. A beautiful looking young woman, and yet 
 one in whom no one could be mistaken as to her profession, 
 threw a large sealed roll of gold and some bank notes on 
 the table. Whirr, whirr, went the roulette, and click, click, 
 click the ivory hall. It stopped. " Dix et Eouge," cried 
 the hanker: the little wooden rake went out, the roll of 
 gold and the hank notes were taken in. The young woman 
 in her expensive laces and rustling silk turned away from 
 the table without an expression, a smile upon her lace, a 
 devil-may-care look in her eye. She had lost six thousand 
 florins. 
 
 And people from all Europe conic here to escape the heat 
 
.• TEANS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 43 
 
 and noise, and excitement of great cities ! The world is 
 mad, dear reader ; but if we tell it so, we may be ourselves 
 put in a mad-house. People come here for their health of 
 body to the detriment of their health of mind. They 
 bring their children with them too. The report of a pistol 
 sometimes echoes on the midnight air, and a mutilated corpse 
 is found — a suicide. Men are ruined in fortune and health 
 here ; vet here they come for health. Women lose their 
 virtue here who never had an evil thought before. Men 
 rob and steal, borrow and beg here, who never would have 
 done so had they stayed away. Yet the games go on. Still 
 the Hell of Earthly Hells exists, and like the car of Jug- 
 gernaut, counts its victims, self immolated, year after year. 
 If Sadowa did no other good, it did the good of giving 
 Prussia the authority to say to the bankers of Wiesbaden, 
 Homborg, Baden Baden, "yon may play for four years, in 
 1872 you must stop." And the Grand Duke of iNassau, 
 who gets his revenue from it must then look for honest 
 employment. 
 
 The illuminated fountains in the Park, as we left to take 
 the cars for Castel, arrested my attention for some minutes. 
 The effect was magical and enchanting. It was fairy-like, 
 celestial. 
 
 The night after returning from Wiesbaden was spent 
 at Castel again, and on the following morning we took 
 an early breakfast and the cars for Frankfort, where Ave ar- 
 rived at ten o'clock, and settled ourselves at the Hotel 
 Landsburg, an old-fashioned house, or rather a half dozen 
 of old-fashioned houses, in a narrow street with narrow 
 courts all around them, but very well kept and very well 
 patronized. We dined at table d'hote at one o'clock, took 
 coffee at a cafe in the square near by, walked thence to the 
 garden and waited there for the sun to get lower before 
 
4-A TRANS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. . 
 
 taking a ride. It was intensely hot, and we did not call a 
 carriage until after five o'clock. The ride was for the most 
 pari in the new portion of the city, which is very .beautiful, 
 like most European cities formerly fortified, and whose walls 
 have given place to beautiful gardens and palatial residences. 
 Frankfort enjoys the reputation of being the richest of the 
 free German cities, and certainly if one can judge correctly 
 from appearances, it fully shows it. Beautiful gardens, 
 beautiful (lowers, beautiful houses greet the eye at every 
 turn. We rode for quite a distance along the river's bank ; 
 the Main was rather dry I should think — it had certainly 
 room between its banks for a large body of water, but 
 the stream was scarcely wider than a country brook with 
 us. We drove through the Jewish quarter, where the 
 houses, built of wood and cement, went up from the narrow 
 street, growing broader at each story until they almost meet 
 across it. So old, so quaint, so wretched looking, so like 
 the pictures that Gustave Dore draws of streets in Ancient 
 Paris. The house Avhere the "Rothschild was born and laid 
 the foundation of his colossal fortune was shown us ; it was 
 miserable like the others ; the house where Gcethe died was 
 little better. 
 
 The monuments of Guttenberg, Luther, Schiller and the 
 churches were visited, and then we went back to the hotel 
 t»> tea, first stopping to hear the music at the Zoological 
 Garden, which was crowded with citizens of Frankfort, 
 enjoying themselves after the heat of the day. We took 
 an ice-cream here and spent half an hour looking at the 
 animals and some of the curious birds, etc. After tea we 
 drove to the Ca/e Chantant and drank beer, and listened 
 to some songs and amusing dialogues, the aim of which 
 seemed to be to ridicule the new order of things since 
 Prussia has control of the city and its wealth. An amusing 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 45 
 
 story is told of the wit of one of Frankfort's citizens and 
 the folly of the Prussian authorities, as follows : It seems 
 that the city, in addition to other taxes imposed by Prussia, 
 is obliged to maintain the Prussian garrison, and furnish 
 each man with so much bread, a pound of meat and six 
 segars daily. They were playing Shylock at the theatre, 
 shortly after the conclusion of the war, and at that part 
 where the judge declares that Antonio must pay the forfeit 
 of the bond, viz., "a pound of flesh," which also means 
 meat in German, some one in the gallery cried out, " and 
 six segars," which was considered so good a joke that the 
 demonstrations of its enjoyment interrupted the play. 
 Instead of taking no notice of the amusing incident, the 
 Prussian authorities caused the theatre to be closed and an 
 apology to be made by the City Government before it could 
 be re-opened. 
 
 The next morning, at ten o'clock, I bade farewell to my 
 friend Mr. V., who was intending to remain some time in 
 Frankfort, and started for Heidelberg. The scenery was 
 rather interesting, but the weather so hot as to make it 
 tiresome even to exert oneself to look at it. Our carriage 
 was full of smokers too, and the bother I had experienced 
 in getting my baggage weighed and safely started for the 
 train had put me out of humor ; so, on the whole, I was 
 not enchanted with the trip, and was glad enough when at 
 half-past two we arrived at Heidelberg and the Hotel 
 Schrieder. 
 
 There was an English family on the train from Frankfort 
 to Heidelberg, and this English family was so eccentric, so 
 odd, so English and so unable to prevent any one from 
 knowing it, that really I enjoyed them as much as a play. 
 They had a first-class carriage all to themselves, and from 
 its six windows, whenever the train stopped, six heads, 
 
l<i TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 from the father tcrthe youngest son (a boy of 8 or 10, with 
 a tall hat and a cane), appeared. Of course, if they had a 
 first-class carriage, they had it to themselves, because no 
 one in Germany but noblemen and fools (and I have heard 
 some people say Americans) travel in first-class carriages ; 
 yet my lord, or my English traveler at least, saw good to 
 put a guilder in the guard's hands, and tell him in the most 
 English manner possible that he desired to be "without 
 company, you know, if you please.'' My English traveler — 
 I must hang on to him a while longer, though it is far from 
 my mind to be personally unpleasant or disagreeable with 
 liuii — was a man of fifty odd years, with irreproachable 
 whiskers, in style what the French call favoris, and as gray 
 as a badger ; he was quite lean and quite tall, and wore a 
 short shooting coat and extremely tight pantaloons; he car- 
 ried a telescope at his Avaist, suspended by a strap, and on the 
 i 'thci- side, to correspond with it, a traveling sack. He never 
 walked, he ran, and he never ran without a hop, skip and jump 
 step, peculiar to a game well known to me in my school days. 
 When I first saw him, he carried in his right hand a port- 
 manteau, and in his left a hat box, and several canes and 
 uml >rellas. Each of the boys were correspondingly loaded ; 
 and each of the three girls, the old one his w r ife, and the 
 two young ones his daughters, were band-boxed and 
 bundled to the eyes, and all very fearful that the}' were 
 going astray, appealing to their Pa, in chorus, to know 
 was he sure he was right. The oldest girl — I mean the wife 
 and mother — was not far behind the father in point of 
 years, for her hair Avas gray, too, and her features A^ery 
 boney, bu1 she was dressed, believe me, like a fair shep- 
 herdess, and only wanted the bundles taken from her, a 
 crook given her. and the usual traditional back-ground of 
 an arcadian pasture with very white and clean sheep in it, 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 47 
 
 all with ribbons about their necks, to make the picture com- 
 plete. The children looked like dwarf specimens of their 
 parents, the boys very like their father, the girls very like 
 their mother ; their features were as pinched, their eyes as 
 wondering, their dress as absurd, their hair a good deal 
 whiter. They were at the table when I went to dine in the 
 Hotel Schrieder, and when I was taking coffee in the garden 
 I saw them all setting out, opera-glass and guide-book in 
 hand, for a walk, all looking as if they had no idea of where 
 thev were 2:01112:, vet ^oino; there witli all their might 
 
 I enjoj^ed my dinner very much at Heidelberg, and when 
 I enjoy eating a good dinner, I always enjoy digesting it; so 
 I sipped my coffee and smoked my segar in the shady 
 garden of the Hotel Schrieder, until four o'clock, when I 
 took a carriage and got rid of an importuning guide, and 
 started off to view the beauties of Heidelberg. For a way 
 the road led along the banks of the Neckar, unfolding, at 
 every turn, new beauties in the landscape, of the grandest 
 description. The Heidelberg itself, green with wild ver- 
 dure to its summit, seemed a towering giant among the 
 surrounding hills. As the road was winding upward all 
 the white, and changing, the scenery became more grand 
 and beautiful, until it seemed to~ me impossible to imagine 
 anything more charming or impressive. The first halt Ave 
 made was at the Wolfsbrunnen, a wild, weird spot, where 
 there are trout-breeding ponds, and where I was shown all 
 arrangements for breeding the fish and preserving them, by 
 a girl with a sore mouth, who asked me, when I had paid 
 her a liberal fee, to remember the poor. I saw some beau- 
 tiful trout in one of the boxes opened for my inspection — 
 several of the fish could not have weighed less than five 
 pounds. 
 
 From the Wolfsbrunnen to the Chatlet, an eminence over- 
 
48 TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 Looking the valley of the Neckar, the town of Heidelberg, 
 and the ruined Castle; a beautiful view, with mountains on 
 one hand for hack-ground, and the Rhine in the far distant 
 sunshine, with the Neckar flowing towards it, and wind- 
 ing in and out at the mountains' feet like*fir thread of silver. 
 The Chatlet is a sort of restaurant and cafe, as well as a 
 point of observation ; and the Chatlet is possessed among 
 other rare and charming qualities, of a waiter — none of 
 your ordinary waiters either — but a waiter of merit, and 
 a waiter of disagreeable merit too to the traveler. This 
 waiter, who is a master of languages as well, approached 
 me in a deferential and waiterly manner, addressed me in 
 the English language, and assured me, as he asked my opin- 
 ion of the view, that many of my countrymen (Americans) 
 annually visited Heidelberg^ and the Chatlet, offered me a 
 spy-glass to view the scenery through, and a bit of red 
 glass, designated (with his napkin) the most interesting 
 points in the landscape ; and after exhausting (as I 
 imagined) his volubility, concluded by taking it as a 
 matter of course that I was thirsty, and asking me what 
 wine T preferred to drink, recommending me at the same 
 time to try a small bottle of Neckar champagne, with 
 a glass of beer for my coachman. I confess this master of 
 the waiters' art was too much for me; and in the height of 
 uiv admiration for his genius and his natural fitness for his 
 occupation, I admitted my thirstincss, the half bottle of 
 Neckar for myself, and the -lass of beer for the coachman, 
 to quench it. A wine glass full of the bubbling beverage 
 sufficed me; then I called this reminiscence of David Cop- 
 perfield to me, and asked hint how he knew I was an Amer- 
 ican, at the same time telling him I did not care for the 
 wine, and he mighl drink the rest of it, which he did with 
 greal gusto. The coachman had told him I was an Ameri- 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 49 
 
 can, and the coachman had learned at the hotel ; and after 
 I had paid the cost of the beer and the wine, and as I sat 
 contemplating the beautiful landscape, I wondered how 
 many commissions were annually divided beljp^eil.'the vol- 
 uble waiter, the coagJiman, and his informer 'at- the hotel, 
 resulting from^visils^ paid>;'by strangers to the Chatlet at 
 Heidelberg. v $ ^ . ^^\ 
 
 There was mqre to interest^ne on that afternoon's drive, 
 than the romaj&tic scenery and the varying landscape; 
 there were wonien "and ^C-hildren working barel^ded in 
 the sun, reaping, ploughing, binding sheaves ; there were 
 cows harnessed to drags and lumbering clumsy carts and 
 harrows of the year one ; there were wretched looking 
 children at every turn in the road, offering fruit and offer- 
 ing flowers for sale ; there wer^e- Ragged beggar children 
 chasing the carriage with a patience, incredible as the 
 distance they ran, asking for ajnis. There were many such 
 instances during the ride to make me thoughtful and 
 moralizing. >$ 
 
 From the Chatlet to the Castle — t&e grandest ruin in Ger- 
 many, through stone gateways, over .'draw -bridges, long, 
 stationary, under-arched passages, which have long since 
 ceased to echo the tramp of armoredjffieU, and whose port- 
 cullis chains have rattled for the last time, many, many 
 years ago, into a vast court-yard— the court-yard of the 
 castle of Heidelberg. There are rows of empty carnages 
 here, hired by sight-seers, and there are sight-seers themselves 
 in groups and singly ; there are artists, amateurs and pro- 
 fessional, with sketch-book and camp-stool, taking croquis 
 of an old gateway, a ruined arch, a broken statue, a carved 
 window, a griffin's head, all to be found in this, the grandest 
 ruin in all Germany. 
 
 4 
 
 
50 TRANS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 For a small sum, a ticket and a guide admit rue into vast 
 halls in ruin; the reception-room of the counts of the Pala- 
 tini, their banqueting halls, the kitchen, where an ox was 
 often roasted whole, the prisons, whose victims and whose 
 secrets make their associations terrible and blood-chilling, 
 the chamber of relics, the chapel, the wine cellar, the tot- 
 tering towers, ivy-clad and weird-looking, the terrace, the 
 Tun of tuns, the vast chamber, once a chapel, then a 
 ball-room, then a cooperage. An hour or two is spent in 
 seeing these, and as interesting an hour or two as I ever 
 spent in my Life. 
 
 I met two young American travelers here who had walked 
 over most of Switzerland and Germany on foot; their ages 
 were respectively 18 and 19. It is a school I most earnestly 
 believe in. 
 
 Then down the steep hill again, into the quiet nestling- 
 town of Heidelberg. 
 
TRANS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 51 
 
 CHAPTEK V. 
 
 HEIDELBERG STUDENTS — THE ROAD TO STRASBURG — JULES 
 CLARTIE — STRASBURG SIGHTS — THE CATHEDRAL AND 
 GREAT CLOCK — MUSIC AND AN OPINION FROM CLARTIE 
 — ADVICE GRATIS TO THE TRAVELER --HOTELS, RAIL- 
 WAYS, ETC. — GERMANS, AND SOME GERMAN CUSTOMS — 
 STRASBURG TO PARIS — HENRI ROCHEFORT, AND SOME 
 EXTRACTS FROM "LA LANTERNE." 
 
 If before leaving Heidelberg, I detain yon with a few 
 remarks in reference to its students, " famed in story," yon 
 must pardon me, and if in these few remarks in reference to 
 its students, I tread, be it heavily or lightly, upon the men- 
 tal corns of any seeker after krowledge in the University 
 of Heidelberg, or whilom e of the University, or anticipa- 
 ting the University, I must excuse myself with an apology 
 for wounding the feelings of any human being, above all 
 the feelings of a student, and above all and all, a student of 
 Heidelberg, on the gronnd that " I am nothing if not criti- 
 cal." 
 
 The student of Heidelberg then is a foolish fellow, he is 
 a fop, he is a beer drinking, wrangling, dog in the manger 
 wretch, who seeks to annoy those who do not drink beer or 
 wrangle, and who are not fops or foolish like himself. To 
 prove that he is a foolish fellow, I have but to say that in 
 the nineteenth century, the man who with a blind and mis- 
 takened sense of honor, stands up before his fellow-man 
 — perhaps his friend — and hacks at him with a fencing foil 
 until one or the other of them loses the end of his nose, 
 or a slice from his cheek, or gets a gash under his eye, the 
 
b"l 
 
 TRANS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 scar o[ which will last a life time— I say that when a man 
 such a foolisb and disgraceful thing, and then calls it 
 • : satisfying his honor," I say that man is a fool. 
 
 To prove that he is a fop, I ask yon to look at him; he 
 is a model for a tailor's shop, and wears a cap two-thirds too 
 small Lor his head ; he keeps it there by means of an elastic 
 band passing behind his ears and under his hair, after the 
 manner of adjusting hats on chignons; he ^_^ ave tlie 
 best eyes in the world, but he must torture ****** with a 
 frightful squint to hold a single ^p-glass in his right eye 
 and stare with it at a woman; he is a wrangling, quarrel 
 hunting wretch, because if you in a public place say to your 
 friend, or him perchance, that yonder white house contrasts 
 prettily with the surrounding green, he will tell you that 
 the house is not white, and that the contrast with the sur- 
 rounding green is not at all pretty, and insult you if you 
 argue with him. 
 
 He is a beast at beer-drinking, for when he can no longer 
 hold it, he relieves himself with- a stomach-pump and then 
 commences drinking again. I grant you many exceptions, 
 but as a rule such is the student. Of course when they 
 grow older, they must look back to these student days, as 
 days mixed up with folly ; they must regard their former 
 ideas of honor as mistaken ideas, and they must look upon 
 th< ■ student's private life as a necessary and melancholy fact ; 
 yet no effort is made it seems to ameliorate their social con- 
 dition. Yet great minds have been developed at the Heidel- 
 berg University. Great men have honored it with their 
 names in studenl days ; great hearts have sighed in studious 
 grief within its classic shades o'er man's degrading base- 
 aess, and here great souls have learned to praise what little 
 godliness mankind can boast of; and thus we leave the 
 
TRANS -ATLANTIC SKETCHES. £3 
 
 student, merely quoting as we go, " good in all, and none 
 all good." 
 
 At nine o'clock next morning I left Heidelberg the beau- 
 tiful, on the express train for Strasburg, my next resting 
 place. The country through which we passed was charm- 
 ing, the day delightful, the air salubrious, and although the 
 ride was somewhat tiresome, it was enjoyed by me very 
 much ; and rendered doubly agreeable by the society of a 
 gentleman who entered our carriage at Carlsruhe, and with 
 whom it was my good fortune to become by accident ac- 
 quainted — Jules Clartie, a young and already distinguished 
 French journalist, whose erudition and sociability charmed 
 me completely. 
 
 At half past two we entered Strasburg by the Porte d' 
 Austerlitz, with monotonous fortifications to the right and 
 to the left, deep moats dry and grass covered, high em- 
 bankments dotted Avith masonry, frowning brick work and 
 granite walls with black guns watching from embrasures, 
 terraces, and parapets, and moving squads of soldiers, indi- 
 cate very plainly that this frontier town of France, is well 
 protected. 
 
 I was amused with a sign at the base of a high peaked 
 roof of a county inn, just outside the fortifications. It is : 
 " On loge a cheval et a pied" conveying to the weary or 
 belated traveler — the gates of the city are closed at eleven, 
 P. M. — the information that, " Travelers, foot and horse, 
 can lodge here," but reading literally, " Travelers lodged on 
 horse-back and on foot." 
 
 At the Strasburg gave we all huddled into a room to 
 claim our baggage. The French Custom officers are on the 
 watch, and I am contemplating again the disagreeable neces- 
 sity of the examination, but am agreeably disappointed. 
 He (the officer next me) says : "Have you anything in it 
 
54 TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 (my trunk), liable to duty?" "No, sir;" I reply. He 
 chalks a Letter on it, and the examination is over; he 
 takes my word for it, and saves me the annoyance of 
 having my clothes pulled over and "mussed." This man 
 holds his office for life; he knows, the moment he sees a 
 physiognomy, whether or no the physiognomy is owned by 
 a smuggler or a gentleman, traveling, and acts accordingly. 
 It is his profession to have studied men so well as to know 
 them : and he is au fait in his profession. 
 
 We Clartie and myself, descend at the Hotel de la 
 Maisou Rouge, a roomy house in the Place Kelber. In 
 the centre of the square is a statue of the general. His 
 remains are buried beneath the statue— a strange spot for 
 a tomb, it has been said, but I think appropriate; for to 
 the left is the Caserne with soldiers, en faction, soldiers 
 hanging about the portals, in groups, soldiers lounging on 
 • the door steps, soldiers chatting and smoking on the side- 
 walk, soldiers drawn up in line, just starting to relieve a 
 
 guard. 
 
 I took an early breakfast at Heidelberg, and am hungry; 
 so I order a beefsteak (filet), with sauce madere, fried po- 
 tatoes, a half bottle of Medoc, which, with bread and butter, 
 constitute a lunch— and the price of it three francs, twenty- 
 five centimes— sixty-five cents— served upas good as Del- 
 monico can do it, with an attentive waiter standing near, 
 ^freshed in body by the lunch, I smoke a segar, seated on 
 a chair just outside the hotel door, on the street, where some 
 twenty oleanders, in large tubs, and blooming, assist the 
 imagination to absurd vagaries. Then I walk to the Pro- 
 testant church of St Thomas, and spend half an hour con- 
 templating the tomb of the Marshal of Saxe, acknowledged 
 and world-renowned as the chef d'ceuvre of Pigalle — certainly 
 a beautiful -roup of chiseled marble; also see twomumified 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 bodies here, very, very old, and very, very disgusting to 
 look at. 
 
 The cathedral, and the museum opposite it, was next 
 visited. The museum contains parts of the cathedral fallen 
 to decay, and models and. facsimiles of some of its exterior 
 decorations ; it also contains the dissected remains of the 
 original ''Great Clock." 
 
 There was a woman-keeper in the museum, to show me 
 around. She must have been crossed in love at an early 
 age, and broken her heart over it, for she was as miserable 
 a looking woman as ever lived, and she had a voice as mis- 
 erable as herself; it was a voice without flexion or accent, 
 and sounded like one. high note of a melodeon in bad order, 
 the bellows of which were extremely weak, yet could raise 
 wind enough to keep that one note going, but no others. 
 And this miserable woman, with her voice pitched at one 
 key and one note, told off her story in her peculiar melan- 
 choly melodeon style, with such a broken-hearted look, that 
 I was glad when I got out of the place. And she was so 
 well learned in her way of telling her story, that she dared 
 to get off a joke at the expense of the brazen cock, which 
 whilome crowed when the dissected clock was yet telling 
 the hours, and the stars, and the eclipses, and the other 
 things its successor tells to-day. it was a wretched farce. 
 Poor creature ! poor soul ! 
 
 There is a stair-case in the Museum that is very beauti- 
 ful. It is circular, and built of stone, and winds to the top 
 of the house. When looking up its centre you imagine 
 you are looking through a long rifled cannon, the muzzle 
 of which terminates just before a beautiful purple-stained 
 glass bull's-eye sky-light. 
 
 The exterior beauty of the Cathedral is striking and 
 wonderful ; it is the most delicate stone-work, and excels 
 
56 TRANS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 anything I have ever seen in Gothic architecture. You 
 would imagine it to be built of iron, so light and fragile 
 does it appear. Its interior barrenness is also very strik- 
 ing, and inclines you to a desire to get outside again as 
 soon as possible. I went up on the top of the plat 
 form at the base of the great tower — the highest spire 
 in the world. It was a dizzy height, and I grew nervous 
 every time I looked below me. " Ah ! who can tell how 
 hard it is to climb," except those who have climbed it. 
 [ was glad to take a seat and rest myself 15 minutes, and 
 register my name in a book kept for that purpose. Far 
 below lay the busy city of tiled roofs, but no noise came 
 from it to my ears, save a dull hum, like the tumble of a 
 distant waterfall. Moving things in the streets were with- 
 out shape. The regiments of soldiers, in line, before the 
 arsenal, looked like a swarm of flies ; their gleaming bayo- 
 nets alone told they were soldiers. The Yosges Mountains 
 are wonderfully distinct from here. The Black Forest, in 
 Germany, over the frontier, looks like the dismal Book of 
 Dismal Tales it really is. I go into the base of the spiring 
 tower with the watchman, to see the clock strike. I decline 
 to purchase views of Strasbourg at twice the price of shops 
 in the town, which he not only offers me, but bores me 
 with, until I am compelled to emphatically and angrily 
 repeat my disinclination to purchase, after which lie asks 
 my pardon and goes off. Then down the weary circle of 
 steps, down the long stone shaft, following the thread of 
 that gigantic screw, with its 440 steps, to the street again. 
 Phew ! It's too much of a good thing. I once vowed, after 
 reaching the cross on St. Paul's, London, and gaining terra 
 firma once more, that I never would go up into a church 
 steeple, cathedral spire, or watch tower's top again; but I 
 forgot mvselfat Strasbourg, besides, it's the highest church 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 57 
 
 tower in the world. I repeated the vow though when I got 
 through with my climb. 
 
 The clock here is a wonder. I was astounded at its 
 mechanism and its accuracy. It is easier to say what it 
 don't do regarding time, than to tell what it does ; it is the 
 product of a brain, in my opinion superior to the inventors 
 of steam engines or telegraphs ; these are more the results of 
 accident, the clock is the result of the most wonderful 
 mental labor and patience unwavering. It is calculated to 
 run eternally. At midnight on the 31st of December of 
 each year it regulates itself without any assistance. 
 
 I dined at table d'hote at six, walked after with Clartie to 
 the Place Broglie, where we took coffee, and sat till ten 
 o'clock listening to the music of the military band stationed 
 in a pavillion in the centre of the square. All Strasbourg 
 seemed to be there. An old woman came around collecting- 
 two sous from each person occupying one of the straw 
 bottomed chairs set out in rows under the trees — those who 
 preferred to hear the music gratis had but to stand. Many 
 preferred to hear it gratis, and man}^ like Clartie and myself 
 preferred to take seats, thinking that the concert was too 
 good to be missed, and to be appreciated should be listened 
 to attentively, and to be listened to attentively must be sat 
 down to. I sighed to him as we sat there under the trees 
 in the balmy night air, that we in the United States, did not 
 have more of such things, that it was only occasionally twice 
 a week, and only in our largest cities with large parks that 
 we had music. 
 
 " Ah ! happy people ! " exclaimed Clartie, " happy people, 
 who do not have music forced upon } ou, and who do not 
 have the money to pay for it forced from you." Yet here 
 they call this making pleasure for the people, and they 
 tax the people for all the pleasures they have, I can 
 
58 TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 •assure you: and also tax them for their own pleasures, 
 which are by no means as limited as what they term the 
 "people's pleasures." 
 
 As you have been kind enough, reader, to follow me safe 
 over the frontier of Germany, into the old town of Stras- 
 bourg, I will ask your attention to " a few hints to travelers " 
 that have occurred to me in my Germanic experience. 
 Whether these " hints " be of use or not, matters little, they 
 directly or indirectly influence the traveler, and although 
 after the manner of most Americans, you may prefer to 
 learn from your own experience, still being charged with 
 this matter, I must " shoot it off "before proceeding. 
 
 German hotels are generally good, travelers are comfort- 
 ably and fairly taken care of, if they have a mind to be. 
 It is not right to find fault with every little inconvenience. 
 If you travel you must expect to meet them everywhere, 
 you cannot carry " home comforts " with you, and you must 
 learn to overcome your desire to find fault at discomforts 
 which you will be continually encountering. If you cannot 
 do this you had better stay at home. You will find if you 
 arrive at a hotel with an extra quantity of baggage, and give 
 yourself great airs, find fault with this, that, and the other, 
 that when you come to pay your bill, it will be a bill fit for 
 a lord or a Vault-finder; you had better go quietly, ask for 
 what you want quietly, and when you pay for it you will 
 find that you are not paying too much, and that you are 
 treated with more consideration than a person whom nothing 
 suits. I would recommend that if you are staying any 
 length of time at a hotel, to keep a memoranda of all or any 
 extras you may command, and to pay your bill as often at 
 least as weekly, and to request an explanation of any item 
 which you may not understand. 
 
 It is disagreeable to pay for a room, and then pay extra 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 59 
 
 for what belongs, or ought to belong, to it The charge for 
 candles and for waiters seems outrageous to an American, 
 and that, too, when the hotel has none of the comforts of 
 an American hotel. 
 
 Always ask for your bill several hours before your in- 
 tended departure, and insist on its being brought very soon 
 after being asked for; if you don't, you will not get it until 
 the last moment, and will not have time to examine it or 
 correct any errors it may contain. The landlords know 
 this. I never knew of a hotel bill that had a mistake in it 
 in favor of the traveler, and I have known man}' hotel bills 
 with errors in them. 
 
 There are more Hotel Victorias in Germany (particularly 
 in the middle and southern parts) than any other. They 
 stare you in the face at every town and city ; they charge 
 more than others just as good — except that they are not 
 Hotel Victorias — which to the English traveler makes a vast 
 difference ; and they are generally so crowded that you are 
 not attended to so well as at a non- Victoria hotel. 
 
 The table d'hote of the German hotels is by no means as 
 pleasant as in France. Some of the tables are so narrow 
 that you run 'great risk of bringing your knees in contact 
 with those of your vis-a-vis, and very often, unless you pro- 
 test, no clean knives and forks are given with the different 
 courses. They take the same ones from your plate and lay 
 them, stained with gravy or with what you may have been 
 eating, on the table cloth, and expect you to eat the next 
 course with them. These, however, are exceptions. Wine 
 is cheap and generally good ; I suppose good, because it is 
 cheap; it don't pay to give bad wine, "there's no money 
 in it." 
 
 The railroads in Germany are well managed ; not as fast 
 as in England or France, but very safe. There are four 
 
60 TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 classes of carriages. The first class carriages are generally 
 found empty. The second class are quite as good as first 
 class in France or England. The third class is comfortable 
 looking, but generally patronized by poor laboring people, 
 and. 1 have hoard, carry more living passengers than human. 
 The fourth class is horrible, has no seats, and people stand 
 in them like cattle. Traveling by rail is very expensive in 
 Germanv. You can go in the United States a thousand 
 miles for what they charge in Germany for three or four 
 hundred. The conductor, guards and railroad employees 
 are uniformed, and many of them, particularly at the 
 ticket offices and baggage rooms, speak French and English. 
 Cab drivers are also uniformed ; they have printed tariffs, 
 and are obliged to show them whenever demanded; they 
 consequently cannot impose on you. The charges are 
 moderate. 
 
 German towns all look alike, quaint, obsolete, ancient, dull. 
 The great drink of Germany, beer, is bitter, mild, and cheap. 
 There is a wonderful distinction in Germany between high 
 and low classes, the rich and the poor. This is particularly 
 remarkable to Americans. The King is spoken of every- 
 where with as much loyalty and veneration as the Emperor 
 of France is spoken of with hatred and contempt. The 
 prevailing religion, particularly in the south of Germany, is 
 Roman Catholic; but I think there are as many Germans 
 without religion as with it, i e., professors of religion. Liv- 
 ing is quite cheap in Germany, particularly in the southern 
 part, where good wine costs about twenty cents per bottle. 
 The Germans are hospitable, kind, domestic, happy of dis- 
 position, joyful and merry, without being gay or intoxicated 
 with pleasure. The women are phlegmatic and spiritless 
 almost, but make good wives and mothers. They have 
 some absurd conventionalities in German society, and are 
 
TKANS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 61 
 
 extravagantly fond of titles ; and so far do they carry this 
 frivolous pride, that the wife, daughter and sons of an hon- 
 orable, a professor, a doctor, a consul, or an inspector, are 
 addressed as Mrs. Doctoress, Mrs. Honorable, Mrs. Consul- 
 General, Mrs. Inspectress, or Master Consul -General, or Miss 
 Inspectress, as the case may be. Of course this is the height 
 of folly to us Americans, and I know some Germans who 
 think so too. 
 
 Having relieved myself of this matter, I will proceed on 
 my journey. 
 
 The morning I left Strasbourg I was up quite early, and 
 strolled out about the town, observing and taking mental 
 notes as usual. 
 
 There is a stream of water running through Strasbourg, 
 and it is called a river. It has steep banks on either side, 
 and bridges of heavy stone thrown across it. It has boats, 
 (?) flat-bottomed boats, and covered with a house to the 
 very gunwale, so that they look like floating houses, and 
 in these floating houses are washerwomen. They hang over 
 the edge of the boats, out of its doors, and out of its win- 
 dows ; and they slap their soiled linen into the muddy 
 stream, and beat it with a stick on the cill of door or win- 
 dow, and thus they wash. The name of the river (?) is the 
 Lil. I can easily imagine its once having been called Lil- 
 liput ; and my only wonder is, (having established the fact 
 in my imagination) that the name was ever changed. 
 
 At ten o'clock we left the city — famous for its clock, its 
 cathedral, and its goose liver pates — and sped along over the 
 beautiful country of Alsace, Lorraine, and Champagne. 
 Charming landscapes, with white walls of distant towns 
 peeping from luxuriant foliage at us now and then ; pic- 
 turesque cottages, quaint implements of agriculture, beau- 
 tiful hedges ; on a distant hill the ruin of some feudal 
 
62 TRANS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 castle; nearer, in a quiet valley, the shining roof of some 
 
 nobleman's chateau. 
 
 "And peasant girls with deep 'black' eyes, 
 And hills all rich with blossomed trees, 
 And fields which promise corn and wine." 
 
 And thus, with something beautiful in landscape at every 
 turn, and with the social and friendly Clartie to talk with, 
 I enjoyed the hours from 10 A. M. to 10 P. M.— from Stras- 
 bourg to Paris — more than I have enjoyed a railroad ride 
 for many a day. We breakfasted at Nancy, and dined 
 (table d'hote) at Rancy ; but the other meal we had to leave 
 to Fancy 
 
 Among other topics of conversation between Mr. Clartie 
 and myself during the ride from Strasbourg 1o Paris, the 
 topic of Henry Kochefort, of " La Lanterne " fame, was 
 discussed. Rochefort was self-ostracised in Brussells, print- 
 ing his pamphlet and disseminating his revolutionary and 
 wild ideas from that city. The Tribunal having his case in 
 hand, had condemned him - on two charges to fourteen 
 months imprisonment, and twenty thousand francs ($4,000) 
 fine. The sale ol "La Lanterne 1 ' was prohibited in Paris 
 and France, and stopped at all the frontier post-offices by 
 the agents of the government. I might go off here into a 
 long dissertation on the weakness of absolute monarchies, 
 and the fear of grasping emperors ; but as I can't treat the 
 subject with sufficient time and attention, I pass on. 
 
 There was an overcoat in our carriage belonging to one 
 of its occupants, and in the inside pocket of that overcoat 
 was No. 11 — the famous No. 11 of La Lanterne — "printed 
 at Brussels, the 8th of August, 1868." I borrowed it, and 
 took considerable pleasure in reading it, possibly enhanced 
 by the fact that its circulation in France was interdicted. 
 It is a small pamphlet, with a blood-red cover, and looks 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 63 
 
 as inflammable as it really is. There is a wood cut of an 
 old watch lantern on the cover, and grotesque letters define 
 the wood-cut. It was terribly satiric and gallingly severe 
 against what the Prussian "Punch" calls "He," meaning 
 Napoleon III. 
 
 Kochefort must be a misanthrope and a cynic, and must 
 regard Napoleon as the embodiment of mankind. He must 
 be a terribly disagreeable fellow ; he must be cold and 
 bloodless ; he must be one of that kind who covet martyr- 
 dom, and prefer to die at the stake or on the rack to any 
 natural way of ending this life. He must study to displease 
 those in power by studying to please those who are not. 
 He is popular, and every Frenchman who is not in the Em- 
 peror's interest loves him. Clartie is a journalist, and natu- 
 rally thinks Hochefort an abused and ill-treated man. You 
 know his first offence I suppose, if not, I will repeat the 
 story here. In an early number of "La Lanterne " he pub- 
 lished the following : 
 
 Scene, a cafe in Paris ; time, evening ; epoch, nineteenth 
 century. Enter gentleman — " Waiter, bring me some cof- 
 fee and 'La France' (newspaper)." 
 
 Garcon — "Yes sir; but ' La France ' is engaged ; :.f you 
 will wait until it is libre (free), you shall have it." 
 
 Gent — "Wait until 'La France' is free: oh! that will 
 never be." 
 
 For this " La Lanterne " was suppressed. 
 I remember only two of the bitter satires in No. 11, and 
 here they are. I give them as samples of "La Lanterne's " 
 style, and allowance must be made for the loss, in transla- 
 tion, of their piquancy : 
 
 " In announcing the new issae of four hundred millions, 
 which the growing prosperity of our finances obliges us to 
 borrew, the Moniteur adds naively: 'The (Jouissance) enjoy- 
 
64 TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 ment of the loan will be from the first of July.' The 'en- 
 joyment!' How these financiers have words of their own. 
 It is like a judge savin-- to an accused man, 'you are con- 
 demned to death upon the scaffold, prepare yourself for 
 the enjoyment of the guillotine to-morrow." 
 
 Again : 
 
 " It is very important to me that I do not constitute my- 
 self a prisoner until after the 15th of August (the Em- 
 peror's birth-day). The men who have done everything pos- 
 sible to dishonor me, are capable of pushing their perfidy 
 even to sending me a pardon under pretext of national re- 
 joicings. We must try and avoid that. It would be the 
 unkindest cut of all." 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. Qo 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 ARRIVAL AT PARIS — THE STREETS BY XIGHT — THE CHAMPS 
 
 ELYSEES — CAFES CHAXTAXT — MR B , AXD THE 
 
 WAY HE "AMUSED " ME— PARIS, AXD ITS PLEASURES- 
 MR. G— MY FRIEXD MR. YESEY AGAIN — BATTLE OF 
 
 solferixo — Je me souviens. 
 
 After the confusion necessary to the examination of 
 baggage at the railway station in Paris, is somewhat abated, 
 I manage to get at my trunk, and finally secure a porter to 
 take it to the carriage I had engaged while waiting admis- 
 sion to the examining room, and soon after its deposit on the 
 roof of the vehicle we started for the Grand Hotel. 
 
 I was a boy when in Paris last, but the impressions Paris 
 made then upon my mind are as fresh as ever, and as I am 
 carried along its shining streets remember vividiy that the 
 same scenes of years gone by are but renewed again. The 
 same brilliantly lighted streets, the same illuminated shop 
 windows, the same glaring cafes, the same peopled 
 thoroughfares, the same confusion, gayety, wild joy and 
 reckless dissipation are apparent everywhere. "Paris! the 
 only city in the world worth living in," is changed only in 
 that it be more beautiful, more gay, more dissipated, more 
 extravagant, more revolutionary, more expensive, more 
 fashionable, more modern. The people are Paris; with- 
 out the people what would Paris be ? " A banquet hall 
 deserted." 
 
 At half-past ten I alighted in the court of the Grand 
 Hotel, secured a room on the fourth floor at five francs per 
 day, including service, went up to it in the " dummy," made 
 5 
 
GO TRANS- ATI. ANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 my toilette, went down to the court again, and walked out 
 upon the Boulevard. Where shall I go ? The brilliancy 
 of gaslight makes the night seem day, and promenaders con- 
 firm the illusion. I am without a companion in this world 
 of a city to-night, and so I wander along the Boulevard, 
 observing and thinking. By the Madelaine, through the 
 Rue Royale, across the Place de la Concorde, at the other 
 end of which I see lights in countless numbers and hear the 
 distant strains of music. I know it well, 'tis the Champs 
 Elvsees : the lights are the lights of the open air concerts, or 
 Cafes Chantant, for which the Champs Elysees are famous, 
 and the music is the music of their orchestras. What shall 
 I do? I can't go to bed yet, with these beautifully lighted 
 streets, so gay and wide awake about me, with the strains of 
 music coming to my ears from arcadian bowers ; with every 
 passing man, woman and child so boisterously happ}-. No ! 
 I can't go to bed yet ; it's too early ; it seems too early. 
 The very coachmen, who with us at home would be dozing 
 on their boxes at this hour, are wide awake and looking for 
 business. So I keep on towards the Champs Elysees, that 
 magnet attracting me as it attracts many others, towards it. 
 I pass through a natural gateway in a boxwood hedge, eight 
 or ten feet high, into a Cafe Chantant. Rows of seats, rows 
 of tables, crowds of people being amused, a stage, an or- 
 chestra, and " a talented company of artists " amusing them ; 
 waiters, the proverbial French gargons, rurning hither and 
 thither, always on hand, always servile, always polite, 
 always attentive, always waiters, omnipresent. Rows of 
 Chinese lanterns swing between trees, rows of gaslights be- 
 hind them, the scene as brilliant as if noonday's sun were 
 shining on it, and it alone; uproarious applause when the 
 song is ended, and calls to the waiters for " Bocks" " Maza- 
 grands" " Gifts" " Groseillcs" etc. Such is the Cafe Chan- 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 67 
 
 taut. There is no charge for admission, but you are ex- 
 pected to order something to drink. Alcoholic beverages 
 are not popular in France ('tis a curse to America that they 
 are popular with us) ; so the evening spent at a Cafe Chan- 
 tant, is an evening rationally and soberly spent. There are 
 no drunkards at the Cafe Chantant. There are no rows, 
 no loafers, and no "musses" there, and the people who 
 frequent them are general^, but not necessarily, working 
 people, and this is one of their pleasures. Just as the last 
 performance concluded it commenced to sprinkle rain, so I 
 took a cab back to the hotel (35 sous including pour 
 boire) and went to bed, although I felt that it was a shame, 
 a great shame, to leave the brilliantly lighted streets. 
 ■ My first business next morning was to call at my bankers, 
 and thence to the office of a French gentleman, to whom I 
 had a letter of introduction. I had an idea that if there was 
 any one thing we United Statesians, could brag about, 
 it was our "hospitality;" but judging from the man- 
 ner in which I was received by Mr. B , the French are 
 
 up to us if not ahead of us in their hospitality to strangers. 
 I was warmly received, invited to breakfast — I had just 
 breakfasted ; then I must dine with him at six at Paesy. 
 I accepted with thanks. Where was I stopping ? How 
 long was I to remain in Paris ? I must be " amused." Was 
 I alone ? Yes. Then I must have a companion who knew 
 Paris of to-day, and who could " amuse me." He touched a 
 little bell upon his desk, and an excessively French looking 
 
 individual entered. Mr. , Mr. G. I was presented. Mr. 
 
 Gr., you will relinquish your office duties to-day and wait 
 
 upon Mr. . Amuse him as you best know how, and 
 
 come with him, chez moi at Passy at six, to dine. I should 
 
 go with }^ou myself, Mr. , but I am very busy indeed ; 
 
 besides,, Mr. Gr. is younger and can amuse you better. So 
 
68 TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 we If It Mr. B. and went down into the street together. 
 Mr. (J. had not breakfasted, so we went to Peter's in the 
 Passage cles Princes, and before the meal was concluded we 
 had become well acquainted and good friends. 
 
 We took a carriage and visited the Invalides, Notre 
 Dame, the Morgue, rode to the Bois de Boulogne, strolled 
 through the Horticultural and Botanical Gardens, and then 
 went to the house of Mr. B., at Passy. 
 
 Passy is to Paris what Murray Hill is to New-York, pro- 
 ided Murray Hill adjoined Central Park. Passy was for- 
 merly an environ of Paris, now included in the city's 
 limits, and Passy is alongside the Bois de Boulogne. The 
 house of Mr. B. is his "hotel," and is approached through 
 teway, opened after ringing a bell, by an unseen porter 
 in a Lodge near by, and through an avenue with high im- 
 penetrable hedges each side of it. This admits us to a gar- 
 den, in the centre of which is the house, or houses, for there 
 are two, of Mr. B. The garden is surrounded by high 
 ■ walls. The house is a small palace, the garden a 
 small paradise. Mr. B. comes out to meet us, and leads me 
 fco the steps of the other house, where I am introduced to 
 Mrs. B. " The other house " is a sort of lounging place, 
 smOking-house, a quiet place to read or write in, too large 
 to be called a summer-house, for it has two stories, and yet 
 it is a summer-house. The grounds are perfect, the flowers 
 beautiful and rare, and-arbors and walks and real summer- 
 houses to suit the most fastidious. The dinner is princely, 
 and the attendants in dress coats and white gloves give it a 
 relish. AWrr dinner we traverse a magnificently furnished 
 salon, cross a courtyard, the floor of which is marble, in 
 Mosaic, with rare tropical plants in the centre and glass 
 covered over head, to a pavillion or saloon, Oriental in 
 cj :i, and Oriental in luxury. There, seated on cushions 
 
TRANS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 69 
 
 of down, with everything about us to cater to the most re- 
 fined taste, we take coffee and light our segars. Says Mr. B. 
 
 to Mrs. B., " Our friend, Mr. , is not to tarry long in Paris ; 
 
 he must be " amused " ; he cannot amuse himself in the house 
 
 with us. Mr. G., where will you take Mr. to-night? 
 
 You had better, I think, take him to the Palais Royal :1 
 (theatre.) Again a magic bell brings in a dress coat and 
 white gloves, and an order to harness horses to the coupe 
 is given. Ten minutes later word comes that the coupe is 
 ready, and with good evenings and kind invitations to 
 come again on the part of Mr. and Mrs. B., and with sin- 
 cere thanks and expressions of pleasure on my part, we 
 enter the coupe, Mr. Gr. and I, and rattle out of the beautiful 
 garden, through the beautiful avenue, into the streets of 
 Passy, on our way to the Palais Royale in Paris, a heavy 
 shower all the while. Three comedies at the Palais Royale, 
 side-splitting and very Frenchy, did " amuse " me. After the 
 theatre we walked to the Boulevards, up and down them, 
 stopping now and then before a brilliant cafe, sitting on 
 chairs upon the side-walks, talking, seeing the passing 
 world, and wondering and thinking of this beautiful Paris. 
 
 Midnight — Mr. Gr. lives at Montmartre. " Good night, 
 Mr. ." " Good night Mr. G., a demean." 
 
 It will be of little interest to my readers, to know what I 
 did in Paris every day, so I shall not trouble them with 
 airy detail under that head. Of course I saw all that could 
 be seen there (in the limited space of two weeks) ; the mu- 
 seums, the palaces, the churches, the parks, the gardens, the 
 theatres and the balls, were all visited, all admired, all won- 
 dered at, and with an increased interest since ten years ago. 
 There were the shops of the Palais Royale and the shops of 
 the Boulevards ; there were the cafes and restaurants, there 
 were men and manners to be studied, and there were women 
 
70 Tl! A NS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 and dress that could aot be studied. There were the gay 
 Champs Elysees crowded with bonnes and children, and 
 loungers and itinerant merchants, and Punch and Judy 
 booths in the day time, and wild with music and glare of 
 light and pleasure-seekers in the night. There were rides 
 to the Bois and the Batten Chaumont and the Pare Monceaux, 
 and the hundreds and thousands of carriages and their 
 occupants to look at when you tire of the landscape. There 
 was the kind, hospitable and generous Mr. B., who did his 
 1 1 1 1 1 lost, and succeeded too, in " amusing " me. There were the 
 galleries of art, science and beauty at every turn. There 
 were dinners at Pass)' and dinners at the Cafe American, 
 and breakfast at Peters, and h bonne foi and suppers at the 
 Cafe Riche — glorious repasts. There was the bal mabide, 
 with its three thousand gas jets, and its decently behaved 
 habitues, and its elegant music and dancers, and its grottoes 
 and illumined fountains and vine screened nooks. There 
 was the Closerie das Lilas, with its savage students and badly 
 behaved women and demoniac dancers, and wild, unchecked, 
 uncontrollable joy, worth the lives of a regiment of Chas- 
 sepots, to attempt to interfere with. There was the Chateau 
 Rouge, with its historical associations and its pretty garden, 
 where the lorettes and grizettes and cocotes of Montmartre dance 
 till their lovers get tired and then go to bed to dream of it. 
 There were the theatres, brilliant with good actors and 
 actresses, crowded with critical audiences (chary of applause), 
 orchestra'd with the best of music and devoted to the best 
 of plays. There was the one unending round of pleasure, 
 the one idea of joy and gayety, the one thought — free from 
 care, the one magic and enchanted word — Paris. 
 
 M v lr'n mkI. Mr. dr., is a Frenchman I fear, whose mind 
 runs in the line of the mind of Henri Rochefort. I know 
 that his opinion of the Third Napoleon is not the most ele- 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 71 
 
 vated opinion in the world, and I know that he don't relish 
 having other people spend his money for him. I know 
 that he reads La Lanterne when he can get a copy of it, and 
 that he don't appreciate the Invalides or Versailles, because 
 they both cost so " sacre " much money, and don't do any one 
 but foreigners any good. That Versailles was the harem of 
 Louis XIV, and that the people had to support its luxury. 
 We went out there to see the Grandes JEJaux, or the waters 
 play. The day at starting was magnificent, but just before 
 the fountains in that kingly park sent their white, glisten- 
 ing jets upward, the lowering sky sent water downward 
 upon between fifteen or twenty thousand people gathered 
 to see the "great waters" play. " Certes/" said Mr. G. to 
 me, as we stood wet and dripping under a great elm tree, 
 " Certes/ mon cher Monsieur, you have seen the grand 
 waters at Versailles with a vengeance." Later, when con- 
 templating the Neptune Fountain in action, he observed, 
 " Ah mais ! this sacre Louis XIV. picked out a nice place 
 for his mistresses, eh?" I know that Mr. Gr., if not the cynic 
 I expect Mr. Eochefort to be, is at least an " honest hater " 
 of nobility, titles and honorary appellatives. I shrewdly 
 suspect that if Mr. Gr. Avas of the nobility, had titles and 
 honorary appellatives, he would be less a hater of them than 
 he now is. Said, I one day, " Mr. Gr., how many people 
 we meet with the ribon a la boutonniere. How many decora- 
 tions I see." "Ah, ca ! but it is too much ; I am tired of 
 seeing them. You know, in olden times, they used to put 
 the rascals (coquins) on the cross, now they put the crosses 
 on the rascals. So the world goes." And as he takes his 
 fiftieth pinch of snuff since morning, he lifts his shoulders 
 in a deprecating manner, and hates nobility, titles and lion- 
 orary appellatives more. than ever. 
 
 One morning, as I came down into the court of the Grand 
 
72 TRAXS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 Hotel, I was surprised to meet there my friend and coun- 
 tryman, the United States Consul at Aix-la-Chapelle, Mr. 
 W. II. Vesey, of whom I have already spoken in these 
 pages. It was an agreeable surprise to me to meet Mr. 
 Vesey m Paris; it was a pleasure to me to walk and talk 
 and dine with him, infinitely greater than to "gad*" about 
 the Boulevards in search of amusements. He showed 
 me where "Charley's" is, and we went several times 
 together to the narrow street of Gaudet Mauroy and break- 
 fasted on fish-balls and buckwheat cakes and baked 
 beans, and always found Americans there, representatives 
 of every section. 
 
 One morning, returning from the American Legation, as we 
 entered the Champs Elysees, Mr. Vesey suggested that we 
 should visit the Panorama of the Battle of Solferino, and 
 which, though the name indicates nothing extraordinary, is 
 certainly an effect in optical illusion I have never before 
 seen the equal of. Entering the building and passing 
 through a narrow stone passage, we ascend a spiral flight 
 of stone steps and emerge from darkness into the light of 
 mid day, upon the summit of a hill commanding the battle- 
 field. The earth is disturbed and the sod ground to dust 
 where we stand, as if horse and foot in thousands had passed 
 but an instant before over the spot ; to the right a broken 
 musket, a canteen near it lay ; further on a disabled piece 
 of artillery, a portion of an exploded shell to the left, with 
 a soldier's cap and part of his dress, all natural, all brought 
 from the battle-field itself, and a landscape thirty miles in 
 circumference, all painted. The illusion is perfect. One can- 
 not realize that the canvass is but fifteen feet distant. If 
 the roar of battle could have filled that place, I could 
 hardly have believed I was not witnessing one. The Cent 
 Gardes arc coming up to the front, headed by the Emperor 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 73 
 
 and his Generals, with their staffs. It is the moment of 
 victory ; the distant heights are purple with the smoke of 
 musketry ; in the foreground an Austrian caisson is explod- 
 ing and reflects its red light upon the ground at our feet ; in 
 the valley and through the orchards and fields, fruited and 
 abundant, pour the French infantry, while up the hillside the 
 retreating Austrians try to make a stand. In the opposite 
 extreme distance the French reserves and troops not yet en- 
 gaged, come on like the rush of many waters, their bugles 
 sounding and their tricolor flags catching the light breezes, as 
 the sky above smiles down upon the field of carnage. .V 
 struggle by the Austrians for a captured piece of artillery 
 is wonderfully delineated, and the fierce passions of men in 
 the life or death struggle is truthfully, yet frightfully por- 
 trayed. We stood there wrapt in wonder at the scene, and 
 for a time unable to understand that we were looking at a 
 painting on canvass, circular in form and but fifteen feet 
 from the centre of the elevated spot whence we were con- 
 templating it. 
 
 I must not forget to mention the delightful evening I 
 spent at Mr. Yon B.'s house in the Eue Turin, nor his hos- 
 pitality, nor his kindness. I must not forget my friend Mr. 
 G\, — his sarcastic allusions to the great, his satire on their 
 acts, and his wit and the good-heartedness and generosity at 
 the bottom of all ; and above all I must not forget that the 
 pleasure of my stay in Paris was greatly enhanced by my 
 meeting with Mr. Tesey and by the kind attentions and solici- 
 tous efforts of Mr. B. for my "amusement." 
 
 " Sunny land of France, when I forget thee, then shall I 
 forget to say my prayers." 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 75 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 HAVRE— OLD SCENES AND FACES — THE EXPOSITION THE 
 
 ORPHEONISTS— THE BULL FIGHT— HAVRE TO SOUTH- 
 AMPTON—STEAMER U HERMANN " — INCIDENTS ON THE 
 PASSAGE TO NEW-YORK— ARRIVAL HOME. 
 
 I left Paris at 1 P. M. and arrived at Havre at 5.30 on 
 Saturday. The cars were crowded with sportsmen and 
 leather- cased fowling pieces, and when the train stopped at 
 way stations, dismal howls from the baggage car gave evi- 
 dence of the other necessary accompaniments to hunters- 
 dogs. 
 
 I went immediately to the Hotel de l'Europe on my ar- 
 rival at Havre, and was just in time to secure the only room 
 not engaged, with a promise of a change for the better on 
 the morrow. The steamer from New- York had just ar- 
 rived and the hotel was overflowing. When the}- turn 
 away a customer from a hotel in Europe you may depend 
 they are full to overflowing. 
 
 I dined quietly at table dhote and took a stroll on the 
 street after. I say "the street," because all the life of 
 Havre, all the pretty shops, and all the light, at night are on 
 " the " street, and the name of the street is symbolic of its 
 life, and pretty shops and brilliant lights; it is called the 
 Street of Paris. 
 
 Ten years have made some changes in Havre, but no 
 changes in the Eue de Paris : this Broadway of this provin- 
 cial town is the same it was ten years ago, and as it will 
 probably remain ten years to come. I strolled about on this 
 street and down on to the/e&s, where I saw great changes 
 
76 T1IAXS ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 and where T sat watching the bright moon and its silvery 
 shadow on the water, and the Lights away over the broad 
 baj at Honfleur, and heard the music at Frascatti's, and I 
 thought of my college Life here, and the changes in myself 
 arc more than the changes in this old town. I sat there so 
 long and became so lost in reveries, that it was ten o'clock 
 before I had any idea of it, so I walked Lack to the hotel, 
 still thinking of the changes in myself — the changes and the 
 changing scenes from youth to manhood. 
 
 And the next day was Sunday. In the morning I called 
 at the United States Consulate, and met my dear friend Mr. 
 Taylor. He was very glad to see me, not more so than I 
 ■ him. I was a great favorite of his when at college 
 here, and the recollection of his kindness to me then and 
 the recollection of his kindness to me now, can never fade 
 away. In his generous and hospitable manner he invited 
 me to dine with him every day while I remained in Havre, 
 and I did, with one exception. Mr. Hunt, too, the Yice- 
 Consul here, was cordial, kind and very friendly, and I shall 
 ever remember him with earnest friendship. I think I 
 must be singularly fortunate in regard to friends, for I have 
 met them during this trip everywhere, not passing acquaint- 
 ances, but sincere and interested friends, and their efforts to 
 make me happy have been deeply felt and affectionately 
 appreciated. 
 
 The town, that Sunday, was crowded with country people 
 and pcoph; from adjacent towns, and the streets were alive 
 with them. The Orpheons, as they are termed, or singing 
 societies of Normandy, were there to attend the exhibition 
 and compete for prizes. They marched through the streets 
 with hands of music and gorgeous banners and made a fine 
 appearance. h\ the afternoon they assembled at the different 
 : ' amusement, where the singing contests took place. 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 77 
 
 The first prize was awarded to the Society of Roubaix (45 
 members. The singing was very good, 
 
 In the evening I went to the Exposition with Mr. 
 Hunt. It was quite extensive as an exposition, but much 
 more like a fair with us than an exposition, and par- 
 ticularly a marine exposition. The United States was 
 very meagerly represented, and the marine portion of the 
 exposition was the smallest, unless boots and shoes, 
 tapestry and furniture, glass and chinaware, chocolate 
 manufacturers and sewing machines, distilling apparatus 
 and glass blowers come under the head "maritime," and 
 i believe they don't generally. The aquarium was very 
 good, and struck me as the only thing worth seeing. In 
 the evening Theresa sang in the " Circle International ,: to a 
 crowded house. The enthusiasm was unbounded, and the 
 other performances were interrupted by the vociferous calls 
 for Theresa to re-appear. But she came not. At midnight the 
 park and garden of the Exposition were illuminated with 
 Bengal lights, but a "torchlight procession," announced on 
 the programme to take place at one o'clock was broken up, 
 owing to a misunderstanding between the citizens and sol- 
 diery, which at one time gave me good reason to apprehend 
 would terminate less quietly. Morning dawned on Havre 
 and found the dissipated Orpheonists still making merry at 
 the Grand Ball at the Theatre. 
 
 The next day and the day after I spent calling on friends, 
 and presenting letters of introduction, and visiting some 
 familiar places ; and so the time passed pleasantly with me 
 during the. term of my sojourn in Havre. I always finished 
 the day by dining with Mr. Taylor, and enjoyed myself 
 more during those social hours than at any other time dur- 
 ing the twenty -four. 
 
 There is very little variety in Havre, even with a Mari- 
 
7<S TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 time Exposition, and when ten days had passed I began 
 absolutely to be bored, for there was nothing to relieve the 
 monotony of the place hut the Exposition ; and after two or 
 three visits, that began to be a bore too. If it had not been 
 for my many kind friends, I should have become wearied 
 of the place in a day or two. So I passed the time calling 
 on them, walking about the town, loitering at the cafes, 
 lounging at Frascatti's, watching the bathers there, visiting 
 the docks, the College and the Lycee, where the con- 
 conjugation of irregular French verbs was wont in days 
 gone by to be the bane of my scholarly existence, going- 
 over the exposition again, writing letters at the hotel, to 
 friends at home. But although glad to leave Havre, I re- 
 gretted to bid adieu to my friends there, whose kindness 
 will ever be associated with the pleasant spots in life's 
 cloudy pathway. 
 
 Near the Exposition grounds in Havre is an immense 
 structure of wood, a vast amphitheatre capable of seating 
 fifteen thousand people, open to the winds and light and rain 
 of heaven ; and every Sunday, from ten to fifteen thousand 
 people gather here to witness the "Bull Fight." It is an 
 importation, and will disappear with the Exposition. On 
 the principle of " when you are in Borne do as the Romans 
 do," and impelled by a curiosity to see all that was to be 
 seen, I went to see the bull fight, I went there with the 
 impression of Childe Harold's experience and Byron's 
 poetry fresh upon my mind. 
 
 ***** -::- * 
 
 " The lists are oped, the spacious area cleared. 
 
 Thousands on thousands piled, are seated round. 
 Long ere the first loud trumpet-note is heard, 
 
 No vacant space for lated wight is found. 
 
TRANS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 79 
 
 Hushed is the din of tongues. On gallant steeds, 
 
 With milk white crest, gold spur and light poised lance, 
 
 Four cavaliers prepare for venturous deeds ; 
 And slowly bending, to the lists advance. 
 * * # * * * * 
 
 In costly sheen and gaudy cloak arrayed, 
 But all afoot, the light limbed matadore 
 Stands in the centre. 
 
 Thrice sounds the clarion. Lo ! the signal falls, 
 The den expands, and expectation mute 
 
 Gapes around the silent circle's peopled walls. 
 Bounds with one lashing spring the mighty brute 
 
 And, wildly staring, spurns with sounding foot 
 
 The sand. 
 
 Foiled ; bleeding, breathless, furious to the last, 
 Full in the centre, stands the bull at bay, 
 
 'Mid wounds and clinging darts and lances brast, 
 And foes disabled in the brutal fray. 
 
 Once more through all he bursts his thundering way. 
 Vain rage ! The mantle quits the cunning hand, 
 Wraps his fierce eye. 'Tis past. He sinks upon the sand. 
 ******* 
 
 Such the ungentle sport, that oft invites 
 
 The Spanish maid, and cheers the Spanish swain. 
 
 In poetry this sounds valorous and. noble ; in fact it is dis- 
 gusting and blood-curdling, cowardly, atrocious. 
 
 The bull's horns were swathed and foiled with cloth to 
 such an extent that they were no defense to him, while their 
 lances, their darts and firebrands were as sharp and as burning 
 as ever. A low fence all around the circle in which the fight, 
 or to give it the proper name, torment, took place, offered 
 
30 TKANS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 an eS cape to the "light limbed matadores," who vaulted 
 over it when pursued by the bull. A more cowardly ex- 
 hibition I never beheld, and I left heart-sick and faint at the 
 brutal scene I had been a witness to. 
 
 But the shouts of men, and women and children, when 
 the bull was struck with Lance, or dart, or squib, showed that 
 they loved these bloody sights, and like the Spaniard 
 " Nurtured in blood betimes, their heart's delight, 
 !n vengeance, gloating in another's pain." 
 
 I felt that I should enjoy seeing the bull become sud- 
 denly possessed oi' the use of his horns and gore to the 
 death the cowardly wretches who surrounded him. Four 
 bulls were to be tormented and sacrificed to the popular love 
 for seeing blood spilled. 
 
 At the moment- 1 left, the animal had been exhausted; 
 blood flowed from his neck and flanks, his bellowing in the 
 agony of pain had a pitiable sound, his red eyes glared upon 
 his tormentors ; he pawed the dust with his last energy, and, 
 as he bent his head to plunge upon horse and rider before 
 him, a cloak was thrown over his head, and a squib-dart 
 was thrust into his neck by a matadore. On came the 
 horse and the rider, plunging his lance into the already 
 bleeding neck. Stung with the burning dart, and frenzied by 
 the lance stroke, he rushed on, actually lifting the horse 
 from his feet, and throwing the rider from him; then "sank 
 upon the sand,'* still bellowing. 
 
 " 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful." 
 
 At this moment the band struck up " Partant pour la 
 Syrie." I heard the music as I weut my way from the place, 
 and I thought of the chorus to that chivalric song, "Love 
 to the Fair, Honor to the Brave." 
 
 " Amour a la plus Belle, 
 Honour au plus Vaillant." 
 
 Didst thou, oh Queen Hortense, when writing that soul- 
 
TRANS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 81 
 
 stirring song, didst thou for a moment think it would 
 degenerate unto making honor at a ball fight ? Where was 
 thy shade that it arose not and rebuked the multitude ? 
 
 With a smooth sea and a bright moonlight, I crossed the 
 English Channel from Havre to Southampton. I saw the 
 fair shores of Normandy fade from my sight, and in the 
 morning the grey-with-mist shores of England break upon 
 my vision. The early morn was chilly and damp, but 
 there was interest enough for me in landscape and sea, and 
 in observing my fellow-passengers, to keep me on deck 
 until our arrival at the dock in Southampton. I designated 
 my baggage and its destination, and quitted the warehouse 
 for the Steamship " Hermann," only a short distance off, 
 pursued the whole way by a persistent beggar, whose elo- 
 quence was really worthy of attention, if not the object on 
 which it was expended. Arriving on board the steamer, I 
 located the few portable things I had with me in my state- 
 room, and " fixed " myself for the sea voyage of over three 
 thousand miles across the broad Atlantic, to my native land, 
 after which, I went ashore, pursued all the way by a boot- 
 black, as persistent as the beggar, until a friendly chop-house 
 excluded him from my company ; here, under the influence 
 of a good steak, and accompaniments, I recovered from the 
 boot-black, and ventured to return to the steamship again. 
 I had hardly achieved a block, however, before a woman 
 with a child in her arms, accosted me with a petition for as- 
 sistance, and followed me until a desire to get rid of her — 
 not true charity, for she looked like a drunken wretch — com- 
 pelled me to purchase her room, which was far more pre- 
 ferable than her company. Once on the steamer's deck 
 again, I satisfied my interest in Southampton by watch- 
 ing the passengers, the workmen on the docks, and the 
 6 
 
82 TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 spectators until the hour of departure arrived, when I found 
 enough to interest me in the charming scenes of the land- 
 scape, from the port to the Needles. 
 
 Before dark land was so far distant as to be hardly 
 worth looking at, and the heavy east and southern swell, 
 told plainly that we were once more upon the ocean. I 
 retired early, and without making an acquaintance 
 among our large number of passengers. There was 
 "quite a sea on 1 ' next morning, but I ate my break- 
 fast with a hearty relish, and during the whole day 
 felt no inclination to be sea-sicl^. I made some acquaint- 
 ances — we had a mixed assemblage on board — representa- 
 tives of almost every clime, but they were not up to time 
 at the dinner hour; in fact, all day they were more fully rep- 
 resented on deck than at table. Eecliners, pillowed heads, 
 si Kiwi and rug-covered forms, pale faces, disordered toilets, 
 and indifference regarding them, told the tale. King Nep- 
 tune and his prime minister, Sea Sickness, had them in his 
 power. Poor wretches ! howl pity you all. I am not sick, 
 I know that I am not going to be, so I ask a pale-faced 
 American girl, if I can do anything to make her more com- 
 fortable. I noticed her yesterday when she came on board 
 at Southampton, and I thought to myself that she was 
 very pretty, and I said (to myself also) that the passage 
 ought not to be so tedious after all. She is reclining on a 
 settee, and looks very ill ; she is not so pretty to-day as she 
 was yesterday, but she is more melancholy looking, and the 
 past and the present excite my sympathy for her, and I ask 
 her can I do anything to make her comfortable. She has a 
 mother and brother on board, both are below ; both are 
 locked from vulgar gaze in their respective staterooms, both 
 -are lacking energy to gain the deck, both are sea-sick. 
 
 "Yes," she thanks me languidly, yet so kindly, "yes," 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC 'SKETCHES. 83 
 
 I can get a cushion or a pillow for her, and I am very kind. 
 As I go to fetch it, I feel so strong and unlike sea-sickness, 
 and so proud that I can help one who is; and to be told 
 that I am kind, very kind, by a pretty girl who means what 
 she says, " oh ! it's awfully jolly, you know." 
 
 Shall I go on, reader ? shall I romance a little ? nothing- 
 more ; this is no love story, this only a picture of every day 
 life ; this is only a little sunshine thrown over a three 
 thousand mile sea voyage, with the " wild waves " and a 
 " tossing bark " to add to its interest; this is only a short 
 story of a little gallantry on one side, and a little coquetry 
 on the other, passing acquaintances on a steamship mid- 
 ocean. Ah ! reader, if we all would be more gallant as 
 passing acquaintances, if we all would study that social page 
 in the book of life, there would be more true gentlemen and 
 more real ladies, more pleasure, and fewer selfish enjoyments, 
 than the world of society now boasts of. 
 
 Shall I go on ? Yes, I may, for I know there is enough 
 good in society yet to enjoy this picture of innocent pleasure, 
 romanced by the uncontrollable elements. 
 
 What would your " lone horsemen " amount to, unless 
 they crossed wide "morasses," or deserted "heaths," mid 
 thunder and lightning and pelting rain ? What interest 
 would your Eomeos and Juliets excite, unless the hours 
 were improper, and the moon shining on a balcony ? What 
 excitement would it create in your heart if some modern 
 Spartacus, with a handful of followers, captured a citadel, in 
 broad daylight? Who would honor Columbus so much 
 had he discovered America without privation, pain, and a 
 crew in mutiny ? 
 
 Well, I get the pillow for the pretty girl, and I suggest this 
 and that, and I make her as comfortable as it is possible to 
 make any one who is sea-sick, and finally she goes to sleep, 
 
E i TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 still thanking me, still telling me I am very kind. About 
 noon her brother crawls up on deck, and crawls to a settee, 
 and crawls out full length upon it, and when I go to him and 
 ask him (a good deal for his sister's sake,) how he is, and 
 does he waul anything, he looks at me resentfully with his 
 sea-sick eyes; knowing well, I see him helpless, and not 
 very energetically nor politely, informs me that he feels 
 wretchedly, and only wants to be let alone. So I let him 
 alone. It strikes me he is angry with me because I am not 
 sick too. I let him alone, however, but I have an eye 
 on him, notwithstanding, and during the afternoon he occa- 
 sionally rises hurriedly from the settee and seeks the lee 
 rail, and then returns after some minutes, and very slowly; 
 and every time he comes back he is paler and paler, and 
 weaker and weaker until at last, instead of going back to 
 settee, he goes down the companion-way and is seen no 
 more for a day or two. He must be very sick, or very in- 
 different, for he doesn't even say "Good night, sis," to the 
 girl I thought pretty when she came on board at Southamp- 
 ton. She after awhile rouses herself, and at my suggestion 
 cats something — a baked apple — and to see her enjoy it and 
 thank me for it, sitting there on steamer's deck, with the 
 wilderness of blue waves all about us, and the cloudy sun 
 half hiding above us, and the rolling, tossing ship beneath 
 ns. "oh ! it was awfully jolly, you know, indeed it was." 
 
 For the next three days there was " more sea," (a nautical 
 phrase expressive of increased agitation of the waters, not 
 qualifying quantity,) and *f consequence an increased mo- 
 tion to the steamer, and increased number of covered 
 forms on deck, beings who paid not the slightest attention 
 to the summons of the gong to meals — all good cases in the 
 event of a famine. My interesting and pretty lady friend, 
 is quite bright and cheerful, however; she is recovering 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 85 
 
 rapidly, and can sit up and chat, and we come to the con- 
 clusion that as a generality, passengers on ocean steamships 
 are very selfish and uninteresting people ; and that it is ver}^ 
 fortunate that society has provided that the acquaintance of 
 such people can be honorably " cut " on shore, and every 
 time I assist her she tells me " I am so kind," that I begin 
 to believe (such is vanity) that I really am ; but I 
 ask her not to mention it, and that it is a pleasure to assist 
 her or add to her comfort — really a pleasure, I tell her, worth 
 encountering the disagreeable features of an Atlantic voy- 
 age, to experience. Then she says any one might know /had 
 just come from France, and I tell her I don't take, and ask her 
 to explain ; then she says I am very innocent (?), and laughs, 
 and so we make the dreary monotony quite pleasant, until she 
 thinks she had better go down now and see Ma. She has 
 to take my arm, for she hasn't quite got accustomed to the 
 steamer's motion yet, and a little extra roll (for which I am 
 increasing my debit to Neptune,) makes her cling desperate- 
 ly to me, and that's very jolly too, you know. There are 
 several young foreigners on board, and they court my com- 
 pany, I imagine, since I have become so friendly with the 
 girl I thought pretty when she came on board at South- 
 ampton. 
 
 I don't know what I should do if it wasn't for her ; it 
 would be very dull, for she is the only lady on deck who 
 appears to be animate. Eating, drinking, smoking, sleeping, 
 over and over again. Such is life on an ocean steamship. 
 
 As we draw near the end of r "*- voyage, my pretty friend 
 is as lively and as merry as cricket ; we walk together 
 and talk together, and criticise all the other passengers 
 together, and watch the waves and sky together. When 
 the "wind is fresh," (another nautical term, implying "in- 
 creased in violence," not qualifying wind as to its taste or 
 
86 TRANS- ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 age,) we stand together watching the waste of waters, a rich 
 blue desert of white capped waves away to the horizon, 
 looking- like a velvet robe with tufts of ermine on it, the 
 bright sunlight on all, and each breaking crest — there are 
 thousands upon thousands of them — has its rainbow. On, 
 on we go, plunging and rolling into the head sea, breaking 
 the blue waters away each side of us in snow drifts of 
 dazzling white foam, leaving behind us a track colored with 
 all the shades of blue, green and purple, and my pretty 
 friend can enjoy all this, and will walk the deck now 
 when the young foreigners are afraid to, and she excites 
 their admiration more than ever, and she is so jolly and 
 merry that when I tell her it is worth crossing the Atlantic 
 to make such an acquaintance, I mean what I say ; but her 
 poor brother is as pale and weak as sea-sickness can make 
 him, and smiles languidly when we try to cheer him. 
 
 One night, when crossing the Grand Banks, the Aurora 
 Borealis appeared in the sky ; the flashes of electric light 
 seemed like the reflection of" some gigantic hidden conflag- 
 ration, and lit the whole heavens with the brilliancy of day 
 for several hours. 
 
 On the early morning of the tenth sea day we came in 
 sight of Sandy Hook. The r sun rose in all its glory 
 " round as my shield," and lead as vermillion, as we came 
 up the lower bay. And Staten Island, with its Swiss land- 
 scape looked like the portal of some haven of rest to the 
 victims of sea-sickness. There was joy in the hearts of our 
 passengers that morning, if there had been no joy in them 
 during the voyage. There was joy in my heart too, that 
 morning, but there was a little sadness also, for I was soon 
 to lose the companionship of my pretty steamship acquaint- 
 ance, and I said so to her ; but she laughed and alluded to 
 France again, and then she gave me her card and told me I 
 
TRANS-ATLANTIC SKETCHES. 87 
 
 must certainly call and see her if I ever came to the place 
 she lived in — some horrid city miles and miles away — but 
 I promised I would if I ever did go there, and I will. 
 
 As we approached the Company's dock at Hoboken, a 
 band of music on the roof of the dock-house, struck up the 
 " National Hymn of Germany ;" and the bunting of the 
 " Weser " and the Hamburg steamers were displayed from 
 every mast and yard, dressed up man-of-war fashion. It 
 was a pretty welcome " home again," and due to the fact that 
 the North-German Confederation's Consul-General at New- 
 York — Dr. Kosling — was a passenger with us. 
 
 I could not begin to tell you with what joy and pride I 
 inwardly exclaimed, "this is my own, my native land," as 
 I set foot upon the dock at Hoboken, or with what truth 
 I began to experience it by having my trunk well ransacked 
 by a Custom-House officer, and being very rudely handled 
 by cab-drivers as I left the Company's premises ; but I can 
 assure you, that Europe, with all its pleasures and beauties, 
 and arts, and science, and allurements, and splendors, has 
 not the charms for me that has my own Sweet Home. 
 
 FINIS. 
 

 
 
 
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