Hal's travels in Europe, Egypt, and the Holy Land: A twelve months' tour during which he saw many wonderful things and a vast deal of fun

              AUBURN UNIVERSITY
LIBRARIES
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.W5
NONCIBCUILATIHte .V
TO
' OF
"MYRTLE HALI " HUNTSYILLE, ALA.BAMA,
IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED,
BY
THE AUTHOR.
HUNTSVILIE, AlA., JajT.. 18G1..
Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2010 with funding from
Lyrasis IVIembers and Sloan Foundation
i
http://www.archive.org/details/halstravelsineurOOinwigg
1
HAL'S TIUVELS
/ " * .
^^
IN
A TU'ELYE MONTHS' TOUK
I'l IMNi; WllllJH
UK SAW MANY WONDF.UrUL TJlLMiS AND A A'AST
^
1)J:;al or fun.
]} Y A. K. Auvnp^aacc;; ss.
NASHVILLE, TENN.:
PRINTED FOR TUE AUTHOR BY J. E. M'FERRIN, Ac't.
18G1.
Entered, according to act of Congress, in the year 18(il, by
A. II. AVIGGS,
in tlic office of the Clerk of tlie District Court for the Middle
District of Tennessee.
sTiO!U-:uTvri;D and i'iuntkd at the
SOUTllKHN MKlllOinST rUHl.lSIIING HOU^^K, NASHVH.LK, TKN-V.
Tho "highly respectable gentlemen" who propose to conduct our party
across tho Desert to Mount Siuui.—Stt Letter from Cairo, p. 200.
AUBURN UNIVERSITY
RALPH BROWN DRAllGHOr; i qRARY
AUBURN UNlVtIiSllV ALAa^MA 36841
HAL'S TRAVELS.
l!Tow, my friends, if you feel inclined to travel, I
would be pleased to have you quit your pleasant
homes for a season, and journey with me into
foreign lands. I think you will find yourselves
amply repaid for all the toils you may undergo, for
we shall visit many lands and many peoples, and
shall look upon sights both quaint and curious.
"We will take our staves, bind on our sandals, and
provide ourselves with scrip, for our wanderings
will be long, and mayhap wearisome. I promise
you, however, fair entertainment and. genial com-panions
by the way, for we shall refresh ourselves
on "praties" with our Irish friends, herrings with
the cannie Scotch, roast-beef with bluff, honest
John Bull, and rabbits with the hardy Welch ; with
the polite Frenchman we will partake of wine and
frogs, sour-krout with the pursy Dutchman, pipes
and lager-beer with the German, goat's-milk and
cheese with the Swiss—and then cross the proud
Alps, and eat maccaroni with the Italian. We will
(5)
b HALSTRAVELS.
then visit Egypt, aud test the qiiaUty of its flesh-pots—
sail upou the chissic waters of the Xile, view
the wonderful ruins of Thebes and Memphis, climb
the mighty Pyramids, and—ride donkeys. Thence
to the Holy Land, wliere priests and prophets dwelt
;
to Jerusalem, where our blessed Saviour lived, and
moved, and had his beiug—preached and taught, and
healed the sick—was crucified, buried, and rose
again. We will stand npon the mount from which
he ascended, and many other of the sacred moun-tains
of Palestine; will quench our thirst at the
sacred fountains, and bathe in the waters of the
Jordan. Thence to Phoenicia, Syria, Turkey, and
the classic land of Greece.
But stop ! to make this journey properly, we
must begin at the beginning ; which we \vill do on
the following page.
HAL S TRAVELS.
HUNTSYILLE TO NEW YOEK.
Well, our trunks are jDacked—Pittman comes
round with his omnibus, and we ride to the depot,
where the "iron horse" stands panting, impatient
to be going. We get aboard. The "steed" neighs
—bounds away—and in a few moments we lose
sight of dear friends, and the lovely little city of
Huntsville. One tear—only one—steals down our
cheeks, and then our thoughts are reaching forward
to scenes that lie before. We are on the fast line
now, and shall only take time to glance hastily at
the objects along the way. Reach Chattanooga
about night, and "put up" at the Crutchfield
House—because we see no other house to "put up"
at. In the morning, ride out to Lookout Mountain,
and spend the day with the Carey family, who are
not only clever people, but know just how to keep
a hotel. The scenery from this mountain we shall
not find surpassed this side of Switzerland. Return
to Chattanooga in the evening, and on the arrival
of the eight o'clock train, are joined by Mr. Arthur
Robinson, who is to accompany us on our travels.
We are heartily glad to see him. At nine o'clock,
take the cars, and bid farewell to Chattanooga, not
deeply impressed with the excellence of its hotel,
8 II A L S T II A V E L S
.
but Avilling to admit tliat its proprietor is a good
man. liun all uight, and breakfast at Kuoxville
—
most of our fellow -passengers taking " sugar in
thcr'n" before attacking the beefsteak and coffee.
Leaving Knoxville, we arrive at Bristol, one hun-dred
and thirty miles, in just twelve hours and a
lialf I—nearly eleven miles an hour! Shall remem-ber
the clever conductor on that part of the line,
because he stopped several times to let us pick black-berries.
Remain three hours at Bristol, and listen
with delight to native music, by some real old Vir-ginia
negroes, who entertain us with the classic
songs of "Walk Jawbone" and "Iloopta-doodeu-do,"
accompanied with the banjo, and other varia-tions.
Leave Bristol at nine o'clock P. M., run all
night, and in the morning find ourselves in the
midst of the most romantic scenery of Virginia
the blue Peaks of Otter towering up just before us.
Breakfast at Liberty, and take supper at Richmond
—a first-class meal only in price. Leave Richmond
at sunset, and at daylight next morning find our-selves
approaching "Washington—the nation's capi-tal.
We stop at Willard's, a number one hotel
judging by the bills we pay. Find some lialf-dozen
of our Iluntsville boys here, who are out on a gene-ral
"bust"—seeing the sights, and having a good
time generally. They will accompany us to New
York. Stop a couple of days in Washington, and
look round at the lions. View the Ca[»itol and
other public buildings with pride, and conclude that
every American who has a heart, and not a gizzard,
HAL' S TRAVELS. 9
slioulcl be proud of them. Sunday is a quiet day in
Washington ; most that is to be seen is a horde of
clerks and under-strappers connected with the dif-ferent
Departments, strutting about in their Sunday
clothes, looking fiercely Democratic. Call upon
Secretary Cass, and after assuring him in the most
positive manner that we are truly American citi-zens,
and not likely to be drafted into foreign ser-vice,
he grants us passports for our foreign travels.
Leave Washington, three o'clock P. M., pass
through Baltimore at telegraphic speed, and arrive
at Philadelphia ten o'clock at night. Spend a
couple of days here. Walk through Chestnut
street, and stare at her wonderful stores. The
stream of people on this street, and the crowd about
old Independence Ball, suggest the idea to some of
the Huntsville boys that it is the "First Monday."
Call on Siter, Price & Co., fix up our financial mat-ters,
and leave for ISTew York—the rollicking, jost-ling,
bustling, rip-roaring, go-ahead Gotham, where
every thing and everybody centres on Broadway.
Here the boys are dumfounded with astonishment,
for Chestnut street is not a circumstance to Broad-way
for bustle and confusion. We stop at the St.
Mcholas, the finest hotel in the world.
There are three of us together now, bound for the
Old World, Mr. John Gamble, of Limestone county,
having overtaken us at Philadelphia. We are won-derfully
pleased with the accession. The steamer
City of Baltimore lies in her dock, almost ready to
put to sea. We take passage on her for Liverpool.
10 n A L ' S T R A V E L S .
Now, having joined ourselves to "those who go
down to the sea in ships," we shall commit our-selves
to the vasty deep, looking for protection to
that God who holdeth the winds in his fists, and the
mighty seas in the hollow of his hand. AVe leave
our native shores and our friends with many regrets,
but with anticipations of much pleasure beyond the
water. Should we get safely over on the other
shore, our friends shall hear from us again ; but if
otherwise ordered, and we should be in old ocean
buried, we hope to meet them all in that haven of
rest where sorrow is not known, and where love
and harmony shall reign for ever.
HAL'S TRAVELS. 11
LETTEE I.*
NEW YORK TO LIVERPOOL.
As I rock and roll on the raging billows this
morning, being confined within doors by a chilling
rain, I will redeem my promise by penning you a
few paragraphs.
Ten days ago, myself and two friends (Eobinson
and Gamble) wended our way from the St. Nicholas
Hotel, IsTew York, to the ocean steamer City of Bal-timore,
arriving just in time to get ourselves snugly
stowed away before she set sail. Found great con-fusion
reigning on board, and the continued arrival
of passengers and their friends rendered the con-fusion
worse confounded. The starting moment
arrived. The bell rang—and then such crying,
blubbering, hugging and kissing took place as is
seldom seen, except on similar occasions. The last
good-bye was finally said, and the noble steamer
glided out of her dock, and took her course towards
the open sea. Expected to feel awfully sublime and
desperately solemn and romantic upon witnessing
the gradual disappearance of the shores of mf native
land—but didn't. Although the li^avens wept, I
* This and most of the succeeding letters were addressed to and
published in the Huntsville Independent.
12 HAL'S TRAVELS.
remained comparatively unmoved, for the chilling
rain falling at the time, and the dense fog, were
death to romance. A few hundred yards put us
out of sight of both city and shore.
Steamed ahead for two hours, and came to a halt,
owing to a brisk head-wind and dense fog. Lay to
near Sandy Hook till near nightfall, then went
ahead. Spent the evening in reconnoitring and
studying my fellow-passengers, of whom we had a
large number. Came to the conclusion that we had
several "characters" aboard — and was not tar
wrong. Felt "deep sympathy for some of the ladies,
(blessed tender-hearted creatures !) who were still
wiping their red eyes, sorrowing for those they had
left behind. "Was somewhat anmsed at the chatter-ing
of a couple of damsels, (of uncertain age,) who
made it convenient to impress the fact upon all
W'ithin hearing, that they were setting out on a
European tour, to be gone for at least four months.
Have since learned that the elder and more strong-minded
of the two intends writing a book ! She
will no doubt "do" Europe in stylo. Shall culti-vate
her acquaintance, and get some ideas upon the
art of book-making.
Found it interesting to notice the assiduity with
which several young gentlemen labored to keep off
sea -sickness. They had started out from N'ew
York with a bountiful supply of medicine, of which
they imbibed freely and frequently from wicker-covered
flasks. They soon grew hilarious, and
snapped their fingers at sea-sickness.
HAL'S TRAVELS. 13
Had a pair of Catholic bishops and three or four
priests on board. Had no diificulty in singling
them out, for their portly persons and sleek round
Irish faces bespoke their calling at once. "Was mis-taken
as to one, however, for the jolly red -nosed
man I had taken for a priest turns out to be a
retired Kew York merchant. He is travelling with
his family for pleasure. Has two grown-up daugh-ters—
fine-looking and sprightly. They talk like
books, sing like birds, and know how to put on
airs. They look "killingly" at my two friends,
John and Arthur, but the effect is not yet very
perceptible. The father of these damsels has in-formed
me, "with a great burst of confidence," that
he is very wealthy, and that the man who gets his
daughter will get a prize.
Sunday morning found us far out to sea, with
clear sky above, and smooth sea beneath. Looked
out upon the dreary waste of waters, and came to
the conclusion that the "sublime grandeur" of the
ocean, so much spouted about by poets and travelling
writers, was all humbug. Saw nothing peculiarly
"sublime" about it. All congratulated ourselves
that we had escaped sea-sickness. In the afternoon
a whale—a live whale—intrepidly came alongside
the steamer, blowing and spouting most obstrep-erously.
]!!Tot so large a fish as I had expected to
see ; but perhaps my idea of a whale was extrava-gant.
I can still, however, believe the story of
Jonah and the whale.
Late in the afternoon, the wind blew hard, and
14 HAL'S TRAVELS.
the sea looked angry, as the white-caps burst and
foamed upon its troubled surface. The ship rolled
and rocked like a restless monster of the deep. Con-versation
flagged, and a serious gravity took posses-sion
of most of the passengers. Your correspondent
felt remarkably serious. Some living monster
seemed to have set up a gallop within his stomach,
and while the cold perspiration rolled down his face,
he made a bold attempt to go below to his berth.
It was necessary for the steward to follow with
broom and water, for he soiled the clean deck.
There was a heaving on all sides, and a demand for
bowls, buckets, etc. Finally got below, and found
John in his berth, rolling and groaning. Joined
liim, while Arthur, more fortunate than we, laughed
at us most barbarously.
Monday the sea was still very rough. The sun
shone gloriously, but the wind blew tierce and cool.
Few made their appearance on deck, and fewer at
the table. My appetite has not yet come to me.
Hope to tind it in Liverpool.
On Tuesday morning the wind was blowing great
guns. The sea boiled like a pot. Great waves
chased each other, and leaped like so many furious
mad bulls, and occasionally mounted even upon t^ie
upper deck of our noble vessel, as she struggled
and panted to surmount them. It was a fearful da}'.
The heavens lowered and scowled. Two sails were
snapped and torn away by the gale. Timid lubbers
looked pale, and manifested a weakness in the knees.
Friend Arthur "caved in" that day, but John and
hal'sthavels. 15
myself felt too serious to laugli at liim. I am now
willine: to admit that all that has been said and
written about the grandeur and sublimity of the
ocean is true—no humbug about it. Ay, but the
Atlantic is a rouffh old bruiser—a rollicking, bluff
old bully—boxing and tossing about the monster
steamer and the light jolly-boat with like ease and
impunity—and, withal, more anti-bilious and anti-dyspeptic
than all the medicines ever compounded
or concocted by that " retired physician whose sands
of life have nearly run out." If it was only at play
on Tuesday—and that is what the sailors called it
—
I never wish to see it angry.
"Wednesday and Thursday the weather was more
pleasant, and as nothing occurred worth writing
about on those days, you must indulge me in a little
eulogy on hogs. I respect hogs. In fact, I may say
that I reverence a fine fat porker. Ever since I read
the account of the Apostle Peter's vision on the
house-top, when he stopped with one Simon, a tan-ner,
at Joppa, I have had a weakness for swine.
Yes, with all their hoggish ways, I love them. They
are good things in their place. But I do protest
asrainst their beins* admitted into the saloons of
ocean steamers. There they are out of place, and
should be put out. "We have three of them with us,
of the biped breed, in the shape of three huge beef-headed
English bulls. They may have been well
raised, but if so, they have been out from home long
enough to forget their raising. They have no con-versation
for anybody except each other, and seem
i
16 H A L ' S T 11 A V E L S .
to look upon Americans as potatoes too small for
their digging. They sit opposite us ever}- day at
table, aud annoy and disgust every one ^vLo sits
near them, with their loud talk, bigoted self-impor-tance,
and gluttony. At breakfast they monopo-lize
every thing -within their reach, and keep the
steward trotting for 'am and heggs. At dinner they
continually call for roast beef, hale, etc. "We can
scarcely get a steward to bestow any attention upon
us, and it is so annoying, that Arthur has more than
once been on the point of throttling the most vil-lainous-
looking one of the trio. John and your
correspondent would delight in pitching into the
other two. One of them I take peculiar pleasure in
detesting, more perhaps on account of his looks
than any thing else. He is a hard-fcaturcd crea-ture,
with short chin, very large mouth, huge nose,
and pop-eyes, long arms, bowed-back, and bow-legs.
If he were a good-looking man, his manners
might be bearable ; but to see such a looking crea-ture
putting on airs makes me mad. One of my
friends gives it as his unbiased opinion that these
fellows belong to the latter of two classes that in-habit
the world—to wit, natural fools, and d d
fools. I merely record this as my friend's indivi-dual
opinion.
Friday we were among the icebergs. Wind blew
cold like winter. Passed three during the day, one
of which seemed to be a quarter of a mile in dia-meter
at the base, and towered up two or three
hundred feet. I was gazing at it through a spy-
HAL'S TRAVELS. 17
glass, when a Georgia friend cam-e up and wanted to
"look through, that brass thing" to see if he could
see any bears : said he had heard them say down
in Georgia that bears could always be seen on ice-bergs.
I gratified him with a look through the
"brass thing," but he discovered "nary" bear.
Saturday, Sunday, and Monday were lovely days
;
sky clear and serene, and the atmosphere bracing.
The sea was blue and beautiful, and I passed much
time on deck, watching the waves as they sported
and chased each other like gleesome children at
play. On such days I love to sit for hours together
and watch the rolling and swelling of the deep blue
waters. There is a charm about the sea which
grows upon one in spite of himself, and I wonder
not that seamen become so much attached to the
briny deep.
Had Divine service on Sunday, in the saloon.
Passengers and sailors, except those on duty, were
called together by the ringing of the ship's bell.
The Captain led the service, which was Episcopal.
The Catholic clergy and their followers refused to
be present, fearing, perhaps, that coming in contact
with Protestantism might defile them—not a Cath-olic
remained in the saloon. In the afternoon,
Catholic service was held, led by Bishop Connor, of
Pittsburg. The burden of his discourse was on
Charity ! The Protestants were all present to hear
him
—
'practicing what he onlj ijreached. At night we
had sacred music, and indulged in some good old
18 II A L ' S T n A V E L S
.
camp-meeting songs, whicli iiuule mo think of home
and the revival scenes I have witnessed there.
A\'c(hiesday morning early, was aroused from my
slumbers with the joyful shout of "Land! Laud!"
Rushed up on deck, half dressed, and after straining
my eyes for some time to penetrate the thick fog,
descried a long, low, black streak in the horizon,
said to be the coast of Irelaud. The fog soon blew
away, and sure enough, there lay, in all its beauty,
the Emerald Isle—the " gem of the ocean." Steamed
into the Cove of Cork, said to be one of the finest
harbors in the world ; discharged about one hun-dred
passengers—among them the Catholic clergy,
and the Yankee spinsters who are to travel four
months, and write a book ! Leaving Cork, we
steamed ahead for Liverpool, and landed here early
this morning.
So here we are in Liverpool—the great commer-cial
emporium of Great Britain—one of the first
commercial cities of the world. We have tramped
round most of the day, looking at the magnificent
edifices and some fine monuments. Boot-blacks
and newsboys annoy strangers a good deal, and
beggars are also to be met. "VVe shake all oft', and
keep the even tenor of our way. To-morrow we go
to London, and from there I will write you again.
Adieu. Hal.
hal'stravels. 19
LETTER II.
LONDON".
So we are in London at last ! London, the capital
of Great Britain, the seat of royalty, and the me-tropolis
of the world—the great city, the smoke of
whose furnaces ascends np for ever and ever, and
then comes down again, leaving its dark impress
upon all objects below. London, where Shakspeare
lived, and wrote, and played, and swilled his 'alf-and-'
alf ; where rare Ben Jonson lived, and moved,
and had his being; where Goldsmith, and many
other poets and philosophers, came well-nigh starving
to death, and where Spenser actually did die for
want of bread. London, where princes and beggars
jostle each other; where millionnaires and gaunt,
starving wretches stare each other in the face; where
the jungles of infamy and the palaces of luxury are
within a stone's-throw of each other ; where priests
and pickpockets are near neighbors, and where the
philosopher and the clown swill two-penny beer from
the same pot. Ay, but London is a great city, and
to tell of but the half I have seen here would fill a
book. One sees so much here, he becomes be-wildered
and sick, and gets things so jumbled up
in his mind that it is next to impossible to get
20 hal'stravels.
them untangled. My two friends and myself make
it a business to keep going and seeing, but when
we return to our domiciles at night, we have but an
indistinct recollection of splendid palaces, magni-ficent
churches, beautiful parks and gardens, monu-ments,
rich paintings, and an innumerable multitude
of people. Each place we visit would require days
to get it foirly and fully impressed upon the mind.
One should stay a full year in London to see the
"lions."
'V_ I find that we are known here by all classes as
Americans, and are consequently "set upon" by
beggars, and continually swindled by cab-drivers.
Don't know what it is that betrays our nationality.
Can't be our dress, for we dress like the English
;
nor can it be our language, for we speak plain
English ; and to suppose it any thing like verdancy
in our appearance would be absurd, for we even
labor to look wise. Yet we are known and
"spotted" as "Yankees" in all parts of London.
It may possibly be our good looks. Started out the
other morning to find the Thames Tunnel. Police-man
tendered his services, saying he knew we were
Americans and strangers, and he would conduct us
to the proper place to take the down-river boat
;
gave him pleasure to serve Americans, as he had
once visited Mobile. The agent who gave us tickets
for the boat, remarked that they were worth eight
cents apiece, as we probably understood the Ameri-can
better than the English currency, lleachcd the
entrance to the Tunnel, paid our pennies, and as
hal's travels. 21
we passed in, the gate-keeper handed us a printed
description of the great and curious work, saying
we might take it back to America with us. Passing
along through the brilliantly lighted Tunnel, were
seen by a musician who sat near the opposite end.
He recognized us at a distance of fifty yards, and
struck up "Yankee Doodle." We stopped to listen,
and then approached him slowly, when he commenced
"Hail Columbia." "We gave him some pennies and
passed on. Upon one occasion we were hailed by
a newsboy. We refused to buy the Times, when
the little scamp turned up his nose and ran oif,
crying, "I smell Yankee ! I smell Yankee !" And
this is about the way we are continually made to
remember the fact that we 2a^Q foreigners !
Leaving the Tunnel, we wandered through the
venerable precincts of Wapping, that we might see
something of low as well as Mgh life.' Passed
through "Bleeding-heart Yard," and, not 'far dis-tant,
saw the remains of " Tom-all-alone's," and if
we didn't see poor "Joe," certainly saw his suc-cessor.
Pie is still kept "moving on." The elder
Mr. Turveydrop is still to be met on the street, but
begins to look seedy, while the "young man of the
name of Guppy" seems to be doing ar thriving busi-ness
in Chancery Lane.
Have visited Greenwich, about six miles down
the river, to see the great hospital for superannuated
seamen, the Naval School, and the Observatory,
from which longitude is reckoned. Same day paid
a visit to the Great Eastern steamship, the largest
22 II AL'S TRAVELS.
craft ever put afloat—Noah's ark not excepted.
London is full of wonders, but this monster steamer
is the greatest wonder of them all. She is nearly
seven hundred feet long, one hundred and twenty
feet wide across the paddle-boxes, sixty feet deep
;
has nineteen water-tight compartments. Has Ave
large saloons, two of which are seventy feet long.
Diameter of the side-wheels fifty-six feet. Has an
enormous screw-propeller. Engines three thousand
horse-power. Has five decks. Wliole ship built
of wrought iron. Can spread six thousand yards
of canvass ! When finished, she will visit the
United States. Guess Brother Jonathan will go
into big ecstasies, and tear his trowsers, when he
sees her paddling about in his waters.
Went Sunday to hear the celebrated Spurgeou
preach. It was with difficulty we found the place.
Met a respectable " Pecksniffian"- looking gentle-man,
and asked him if he could tell us where Mr.
Spurgeon would preach that day. Hung down his
head, hemmed a little, seemed in deep thought,
looked up, and asked if we were not Americans ?
Told him we were. Hung his head again, paused,
put his finger to the side of his nose, and repeated
the word slowly three times, "Spurgeon, Spurgeon,
Spurgeon." Shook his head, rolled up his eyes,
and said "No !" Asked a cab-driver, and his reply
was, "Two shillin's." Met the elder Mr. Turvey-droj),
and put the question to him. Put the head
of his cane to his nose, and said he was sure he had
lieard the name of Spurgeon before—quite sure he
HALS TRAVELS. Z6
had—but really could not tell where, when, nor in
what connection. Policeman told us to go to Park
Lane. Another policeman said "IsTo — not Park
Lane." Finally, we were informed by genteel-looking
individual—very genteel, but a little seedy
—
who spoke with all the confidence of a Micawber
that Mr. Spurgeon preached at Surrey Gardens
quite sure of it, for he lived in that neighborhood.
We took a cab, and rode three miles to Surrey Gar-dens,
and found the gentleman's statement correct.
Found the great hall densely crowded, and the
people still coming in streams. With difficulty we
got standing room. Got our places just as the
preacher commenced his first prayer. ,^
'Now that I have heard Spurgeon, perhaps you
expect me to give my opinion of the preacher and
his sermon. It may be presumption—and is pre-sumption—
for me to attempt to criticise the sermon
of a man whose reputation is so extensive on both
sides of the Atlantic. But I speak for myself, and
nobody else, when I say I was grievously disap-pointed.
Perhaps I expected too much—no doubt
did—^but I say what I believe to be true, and what
I felt to be true at the time, that I have heard ser-mons
in the United States that pleased me much
better, and were better calculated to lead sinners to
repentance. Mr. Spurgeon is a good man and a
good preacher, but if he is worthy of his great repu-tation,
then I am dull indeed. His style of preach-ing
is so very difierent from other preachers in this
country, that it has given him a great notoriety,
24 hal'stravels.
and the people run to liear liim in great numbers,
because they are ever ready to hear some new thing.
"While the preachers of tlie Church of England de-liver
dr}^ windy, punctilious, big-worded, written
sermons, Spurgeon marches up oit-hand, and takes
the bull by the horns, just as some of our preachers
do. He calls things by their right names — uses
language plain and easy to be understood—and
hence takes hold of the people. His figures are apt,
vivid, and to the point—homely enough, some of
them. Voice clear, and words distinct ; yet, in de-clamation,
I know stump - speakers in Tennessee
that can beat him. There are plenty of preachers
in our country who could get up as great if not a
greater furor in London than Mr. Spurgeon has.
His sermon on Sunday was preached from Matthew
xi. 29: "For I am meek and lowly in heart."
Do not infer from what I have said that I think
Mr. Spurgeon an ordinarj' man. He is a great
preacher ; and we, too, have great preachers on our
side of the water—greater, perhaps, than Mr. Spur-geon.
My two friends are entirely delighted with
liim, and differ with me as to his ability, ^fr. S.
looks to be about thirty or thirty-five years of ago,
has rather a boyish fjice, full and round, wears a
high shirt collar and white cravat, to make him look
ministerial.
But enough of Spurgeon. There are a thousand
things I might write about, but shall not do it.
You may expect me to give you a description of the
splendid House of Parliament, of "Windsor Castle,
HAL'S TRAVELS. 25
St. Paul's Church, IlTational Art Gallery, Hyde
Park, Eegent's Park, St. James's Park, and the
thousand-and-one things of national and historical
interest here ; but you will be disappointed, for I
shall not attempt anything of the sort. I didn't
intend from the start to write any such letters.
For information on these things I refer you to any
book of travels, for all travellers who write think
themselves in duty bound to describe those places,
and I shall not follow in their footsteps. I could
not do it without copying copiously from the guide-books
; hence, will not try. If I can't be original, I
won't be at all.
"Went down the other evening and took a look at
Buckingham Palace, the town residence of Her
Royal Highness, Queen Victoria. Her Majesty not
being at home, we did n't call. She, with her little
responsibilities, is on a visit to the Isle of "Wight.
Left a few days before we reached London. Pre-sume
she did not know we were coming.
Shall visit the Tower of London to-morrow, where
all the State prisoners have been imprisoned and be-headed
from time immemorial. Place of terrible
interest, that Tower. Must also visit the House of
Lords and the Crystal Palace. Sorry we have not
more time to spend in London, for one should not
run through it in a hurry. But must be in Paris on
the 15th, to witness the great ISTapoleon /e/e, and the
entree of the grand army of Italy. It will be one of
the greatest pageants ever seen in the world. It
will compensate us in some degree for the disappoint-
26 HAL'S TllAVELS.
ment in not getting over here in time to sec a great
battle fought in Italy.
Hold ! List ! There's another hand-organ thun-dering
away ! The seventh time that an organ has
been played under my window since this letter was
commenced ! I acknowledge my Aveakness for mu-sic,
but must confess that m}^ respect for Italy and
for Italians generally is daily giving w^ay under the
pressure of too much grinding upon the organ.
There is no less than a regiment of stout Italians
now in London, assiduously devoting themselves to
the profession. It would be a good thing if they
could be put on a cotton-plantation in Alabama,
under a good overseer.
The hotels of London are not to be compared
with those of New York. Upon arriving here we
stopped at Morlcy's Hotel, Charing Cross, said to
be one of the finest in Loudon ; but to those coming
from Philadelphia or l!Tcw York, it will appear as
small potatoes. We soon discovered that the charges
ranged at least fifty per cent, higher than in New
York, and we took ourselves suddenly away, and
would advise our friends, if they ever come to Lon-don,
and feel economicall}'- disposed, to take private
lodgings, as we have done.
This letter is long enough. Good-bye.
Hal.
HAL'S TRAVELS. 27
LETTER III.
LONDON.
I HAD an idea before coming to Loudon that it
was a great city. Am now convinced that it is all
my fancy painted it, and fifty per cent. more. Since
my last letter I have been going, going, going con-tinually,
and the more I try to find the end of it,
the more I can't do it. Have seen it from the
"deck" of an omnibus for ten miles at a stretch
viewed it from the tallest towers and steeples
walked it until my feet are blistered, and my mus-cles
sore—and still it seems the same endless Lon-don—
full of interest, full of magnificent architec-ture,
full of classic localities, and full of wicked-ness.
I have seen the " lions" and the " elephant"
—have tramped from " Blackfriars" to "White-friars"—^
have threaded my way from Pall-mall to
" Temple Bar"—have run the gauntlet from "Pud-ding
Lane" to "Pie Corner"—forced myway through
the mass from "Billingsgate" to " Cock Lane"
scrambled from "Kewgate" to " Dog's-Misery"
—
have cabbed it from "Regent's Park" to "Surrey
Gardens"—'bussed it from "The Angel" to the
"Elephant-and-Castle"—from "Piccadilly" to "The
28 HAL'S TRAVELS.
Eagle"—and from " Chariug Cross" to " Vauxball
Gardens"—in sliort, have been, it seems, almost
everywhere, and jet have seen but little of London,
comparatively.
Visited to-day St. Bartholomew's church, in Smith-field
Market, to see the ground where so many
Christian martyrs were burned during the reign of
bloody Queen Mary. Also the tower erected to
commemorate the great fire of London, in 1666. It
is an immense column, two hundred and two feet
high, and located two hundred and two feet from
the spot in "Pudding Lane" where the fire origi-nated.
After its erection, the following inscription
was engraved upon the base :
" This pillar was set up in perpetuall remembrance of that most
dreadful burning of this Protestant citye, begun and carryed on by
ye treachery and malice of ye Popish factio, in ye beginning of Sep-tem,
in ye yearc of our Lord 1G66, in order to ye carrying on their
liorrid plot of extirpating ye Protestant religion and old English
liberty, and yc introducing Popery and slavery."
As many as six persons have committed suicide
by throwing themselves from the top of this monu*
ment. Also visited Charter House Square, where
sixty thousand of the better class of the citizens of
London were buried during the Great Plague. Also
T3unliill Fields Cemetery, where rest the mortal re-mains
of Kcv. Mr. Fox, the founder of the Quaker
sect of religionists ; Dr. Isaac Watts, wdiose hymns
will be sung till time shall be no more; John Bun-yan,
whose " Christian" in the Pilgrim's I'rogress
will ever be the admiration of Christian warriors
;
HALS TRAVELS. 29
aud many others are buried there whose names are
familiar to Protestant Christians throughout Chris-tendom.
On Sunday, instead of going to hear S^Durgeon
again, went to the Wesley Chapel, and after service
went to the rear of the church and saw the tomb of
the great divine and founder of Methodism. Also
the ground where Goldsmith is said to have been
buried.
Friend Arthur went again last Sunday to hear
Spurgeon, and came back rather chapfallen. Don't
now think quite so much of him as he did. Says
he didn't preach near so well as on the Sunday be-fore—
and took occasion to come down upon Ameri-can
slavery with a vim ; quoted the sixth verse of
Psalm ciii., " The Lord executeth righteousness
and judgment for all that are oppressed," and said
that was a "fit legacy left by David to the slave-holders
of America." "Won't some kind-hearted
philanthropist have the goodness to send Mr. Spur-geon
a copy of Ross's Bible Defence of Slavery ? I
am persuaded that the overrated individual might
read it with profit. It is said that Spurgeon intends
shortly to visit America. If so, I trust our good
people will endeavor to hold themselves on the
ground. It is not customary, I know, for them to
be temperate when famous foreigners go among
them. All the talent of America might come to
London, and there would not be half the sensa-tion
manifested as in 'New York when Charles
Dickens went among them. Guess Spurgeon will
30 UAL'S TRAVELS.
meet a similar reception. If so, hope lie -will write
a " Martin Chuzzlewit."
- I have been through most of the parks, many of
the churches, castles, and towers, but among them
all found no spot which brought up such thoughts
as the Tower of London, the place where has been
shed so much royal and so much innocent blood,
and where have been imprisoned many hundreds
whose names adorn or blacken the pages of history.
This tower is an immense fortress, surrounded with
a deep moat which can be filled at any moment
with water from the Thames, on the banks of which
it stands. In the centre stands a tower, from which
the fortress takes its name. Tradition says it was
built by Julius Csesar, some say by William the
Conqueror. The arms and armor of England,
from Edward the First on down through successive
reigns, are still preserved here, as well as thousands
of other relics of antiquity. I was in the cell where
Sir Walter Raleigh was confined for twelve years.
It is small, without a particle of light, and the walls
are fifteen feet thick. In front of this cell stands
the block on which so many have been beheaded,
including kings, queens, lords and ladies. The
fatal axe lies beside it, blackened with rust—the
same axe which severed the heads of Lady Jane
Grey, Anne 13oleyn, Sir Walter Raleigh, and hun-dreds
of others. I passed through many cells, but
lingered longest to gaze upon the one in which the
gentle Queen Anne Boleyn was confined previous
to her execution. The history of that tragedy
HAL'S TRAVELS. . 31
passed before me, and I almost cursed the memory
of tlie bloody Henry YIII. I thought of the splen-dor
and pomp with which she was received at the
palace (then in the Tower) on her espousal to the
brutal Henry. She was on that occasion escorted
by the Lord Mayor and his train, arrayed in scarlet,
with gold chains about their necks, in gilded barges
of great magnificence, and was received amidst the
melody of trumpets and musical instruments, and
a mighty peal of guns. This was the reception
Henry gave her. The next day she proceeded from
the Tower to "Westminster, with all the pomp and
heraldry of pride and power. She is described as
tall and slender, face oval, hair black, complexion
rather pale, features and figure symmetrical ; and it
is said that beauty and sprightliness sat on her lips;
and in readiness of wit she was unsurpassed.
This was truly a splendid beginning—but what
an ending ! Three years after, the tongue of jeal-ousy
and slander aspersed her fair name. She was
committed to the Tower, a prisoner ; arraigned
and tried for unfaithfulness to her royal but villain-ous
husband, and pronounced guilty. When her
sentence was pronounced, she raised her hands and
eyes to heaven, and exclaimed: "0 Father! O
Creator ! Thou who art the way, the truth, and
the life, thou knowest I have not deserved this
death !" She was conducted to the place of execu-tion
without being permitted even to see the cruel
author of her death. Those who were eye-witnesses
of the scene, record that her beauty €n that day
32 UAL'S TRAVELS.
was mournfully brilliant. After addressing a few
words to those who stood around, she laid her head
on the fatal block, and it was severed at one stroke.
Her body was thrust into an old chest, and hurried
away to the vault of the chapel, in front of which
the scaffold stood. The place where the scafibld
stood is marked with black stones, while the rest of
the court is paved with stones of a light color.
I have visited some of the London theatres, and
have seen the boards trod by some of the ancient
worthies. "Went to the Haymarket last night, and
saw a play which might be performed to advantage
in some parts of our own country—entitled, "The
Contested Election ; or, the way M. P.'s get their
seats." It was a good "take-off" of the manner in
which members of Parliament are made. None but
rich men can get a seat in the English Parliament,
for almost every elector has his price, and votes for
the highest bidder. Have learned this from debates
in the House of Commons, where about a dozen
cases of contested election arc now being tried.
The proof shows that nearly all were elected by
bribery. The constituencies being small, it is easier
for a man to buy them up here than in the United
States, where every man is a voter. They have a
curious way here of managing elections. The can-didate
is in the background—gives the canvass up
into the hands of a club or committee. He fur-nishes
the money, and the committee hire and send
out "electioncerers." The "electioneerers" buy
votes, paying each voter his price. The candidate
HALST RAVELS. 33
justifies himself by saying that lie is a poor hand to
electioneer, and merely hires these men to do it for
him, paying them for their time, and giving them a
certain sum of money extra, to be expended for
"refreshments." Several members have been oust-ed
within the last few days. The play above al-luded
to was got up to take off the cases now being
tried, and does it admirably.
The city of London proper is but a small part of
London. What is called "The City" is independent
of the rest, having its own government. It was a
walled city in ancient times. Part of the wall still
stands. Temple Bar (an ancient gate) remains as a
remembrance of the old wall, dividing the city from
the new part of London. It is an immense arch,
spanning the street just at the meeting of the Strand
and Fleet streets. Upon the top of this arch the
heads of desperate criminals used to be placed, to
be scoffed at by the public.
People here have a singular idea about time and
age. I dropped into a barber-shop the other day,
under Temple Bar, to get my hair cut. Found the
barber a loquacious fellow, as all barbers are. Told
him I thought he had a good stand for his business,
being located under the ancient and time-honored
Temple. "Bless you, sir," said he, "this haint the
hold bar. This is the new 'un. The hold 'un was
pulled down, it got so rickety, and this new 'un
built. This haint 'ardly two 'undred years hold
yet." I thought two hundred years a good old age.
Billingsgate, I am persuaded, is hardly maintain-
2
34 hal'stravels.
ing its ancient reputation. I spent half an lioiir
there one day, and did not hear more than lialf a
dozen oaths, and but few indecent expressions.
The coarse language of this place is notorious
throughout the world.
Thcvo stripped, fair rhetoric languished on the ground.
His blunted arms by sophistry are borne,
And shameless Billingsgate her robes adorn.
—
Pope.
Billingsgate is a fish-market, and is about the
loudest smelling place I have found about London,
even surpassing the river Thames, if possible.
Don't know but I begin to feel a little more im-portant
than I used to feci. It is not common for
plain republicans to be admitted within less than
bow-shot of royalty, but I have been much nearer ;
in fact, almost in the very presence of the royal
family. Through the intercession of the American
Legation, I was granted a card of admission to the
Queen's Stables. The document was crowned with
the royal arms, (to wdt : a lion and unicorn rampant,)
and read as follows
:
Mastkr of the ITohse's Office, "(^
Royal Mews, Pimuco. J
Admit Mr. ITal and party of two to view the
Queen's Stables.
J. H. Groves,
Crown Equerry.
Did myself the honor to call at the Master of the
Horse's oflice yesterday, and was well paid for the
visit. The finest stud of horses I ever saw, of
hal'stravels. 35
course. There are one liundred and fifty horses.
Great ceremony is observed at these stables. An
ofiicial received me at the gate in rich uniform—cut
off part of my ticket of admission, and handed me
over to a cockaded gentleman, who conducted me
to another office, v^diere I was required to register
my name and place of residence, and deliver up the
rest of my ticket. A third individual with gold lace
and shiny buttons conducted me into a stable where
stood a dozen of Prince Albert's saddle-horses.
After explaining to me the qualities of each parti-cular
horse, (for he understood "'orse-talk" per-fectly,)
he handed me over to a fourth, and thus I
was conducted through all the stables, coach and
harness houses, a different "gentleman" accom-panying
me through each place. And now you
know how near an approach I have made to royalty
since my sojourn in London.
Guess I have bored you enough, and will desist.
Shall go to Paris to-morrow.
Yours, etc., Hal.
36 hal'stravels.
LETTER IV.
PARIS.
I AM in a state of excitement this morning—be-wildered—
in fact, I might say, dumfounded—and
the reliability of what I write on this occasion may
well be doubted. I have seen enough within the
last few days to turn the head of a sage, or to com-pletel}^
derange a man of ordinary' sense. I am in
Paris, and have seen something of Paris life. You
don't know what that means, nor does any one who
has never been here. I have heard of Paris and
read of Paris all my life, but had not the most faint
conception of its grandeur, beauty, gayety, or frivo-lity
until now. It is the place of places—the city
of cities—where voluptuousness abides, -and Avhere
wickedness doth abound ; where the people sit down
to eat and drink, and rise up to phiy—a city that
seems to be verging upon the condition of the great
Babylon before its downfall—because it seems to
mo she makes "all nations drink of the wine of the
wrath of her fornication."
I have seen enough since my arrival in Paris to
keep me writing a wi'ck, and to fill six newspapers;
but don't be alarmed—I'm not going to do it. I
must put a rein upon my scribbling inclination.
hal'stravels. 37
Tlie great fete of tlie age—yea, the greatest the
world has ever known, has just closed—a fete got
up, directed and managed by Emperor ISFapoleon
III., backed by the city of Paris, and aided and
assisted by the entire French nation. My pen
shrinks back appalled when I think of attempting
to give you even a distant glimmering of the bril-liancy
of the scenes in Paris during the last two
days—to-wit, Sunday and Monday. It can't be
portrayed on paper. An attempt to do so would
be simply ridiculous. I can mention some things
that were done, however. The entree of the Grand
Army of Italy, headed by Napoleon and his staff",
was a scene of grandeur seldom witnessed. It was
not the army alone that constituted the beauty of
the scene : it was the manner in which it was wel-comed—
the immense crowd of people—the thou-sands
upon thousands of flags, banners and devices
which greeted the war-worn veterans—the shouts,
and the immense showers of wreaths and bouquets
showered upon them from the windows, the bal-conies,
and housetops, as they passed the streets.
Their march was from the Place du Trone along the
Boulevards, (the broadest and most beautiful street
of Paris,) a distance of nearly five miles, to what is
called the Place Yendome, (a square in which stands
the great column surmounted with the statue of
ISTapoleon Bonaparte, the whole cast from the can-non
taken by him in his various battles.) This
square, which is four hundred and fifty feet across,
was surrounded with seats,, capable of seating
38 hal'stravels.
twenty-one thousand persons, all of whom were of
the privileged classes, and entered the place by
ticket. Every window, and the balconies of the
houses surrounding this square, and even the roofs,
were tilled with people—the cliic of Paris. On one
side was a crimson velvet canopy over a tribune,
where the Empress and her royal guests sat during
the four hours and ten minutes that it took the
army to pass. The Emperor sat on his horse in
front of the tribune during the whole time, and
greeted each regiment as it passed. The brilliancy
of the decorations of this square cannot be described.
It seemed as if millions of dollars had been expended
for banners, arches and columns ; crimson, blue and
purple velvet, trimmed and embroidered with gold
lace, were suspended from every window around the
square. The Empress sat during most of the time
with the little Prince Imperial in her arms. The
little fellow was dressed in the uniform of the Impe-rial
Guards. But wh}' should I attempt a detailed
account ? I will sura it up by saying that the whole
distance marched by the army, from the place of
starting, about ten miles, back to the Bastilc, was a
scene of flaunting banners, triumplial arches, crowds
of peoi)lc, both on the streets, in the windows,
and on the housetops, and the continual yell of
"Vive I'Empereur!" "Vive rArmec !" "Vivo les
Zouaves !" etc., etc.
The procession consisted of 69,800 men, and 144
pieces of cannoji, besides many thousands of other
troops not belonging to the Array of Italy. It
hal'stravels. 39
took four hours and ten minutes for the procession
to pass. There were 63,000 infantry, 2800 cavahy,
2400 artillerymen, 800 engineers, and 300 with the
wagon-train. I do not know the number of soldiers
not of the Army of Italy, though there were many
thousands. There were also 6500 horses attached
to the cannon and wagon -train. The regiments
marched about sixteen abreast, headed by their re-spective
officers. The order was as follows
:
1st. The Emperor and his escort, (from the Bas-tile
to the Place Vendome.)
2d. The banners taken from the Austrians.
3d. The Austrian cannon.
4th. The wounded—some limping, some with
bandages around their heads, and others with their
arms in slings.
5th. The Zouaves, composed of Turks, Moors,
and desperate-looking Frenchmen.
6th. Artillery and baggage-wagons.
7th. Infantry.
8th. Regiment of Lancers.
9th. Cavalry of the Guard, in glittering armor.
10th. The Emperor and his attendants brought
up the rear from the Place Yendome, down Rue de
Rivoli, to the Palace of the Tuileries.
After the street had been somewhat cleared, the
Empress and her household followed on to the Tuil-eries
in the State carriages, each drawn by only
two horses, and entirely unattended except by the
footmen.
"We had a good opportunity to see the whole of
40 II A L ' S T n A V E L S .
the procession, having a stand in a balcony in front
of our liotcl, from which we could see both the army
and the masses of people np and down the streets
for miles. It is estimated that there were from five
to eight hundred thousand people on the streets on
Sunday, besides what were in the houses and on the
housetops. It seemed to an American like any thing
but Sunday. The hundred brass bands, the scores
and scores of kettle-drums, the yells of' the masses,
and the confusion generally, made it seem more like
pandemonium than a city professing to be Chris-tian.
Hundreds of priests, monks, and friars were
pushing and crowding along with the rest, lookijig
any thing but meek and lowly, as would have be-come
their long black robes and shaven pates. The
day finally closed with a partial illumination of
many of the streets.
But Monday was the big fete day. Interesting,
and brilliant spectacles were got up and carried .on
during the day in every part of the city. As I could
not sec all, I chose to go to the Hotel des Invalides,
(a church, fortification, and hospital for invalid sol-diers,
all coml)ined,) in which is the Tomb of Napo-leon
I., and in which was sung a grand To Deum,
and High Mass was celebrated, which is done twice
a year, viz., on Christmas and on the lAth of Au-gust.
The perlbrmancc was rather imposing, but
did not strike me forcibly. The high dignitaries of
the Church wore dressed in rich gold-embroidored
robes, and looked ferociously pious; but during
their wails, lamentations, waving of censers, and
HAL'S TRAVELS. 41
beseecliings of tlie Virgin Mary to pray for tlie re-pose
of the soul of ISTapoleon I., I could not but
think of the impious manner in which they had
desecrated the Sabbath but the day before.
After the service concluded, I spent the rest of
the day in wandering about from place to place, see-ing
the various shows and sights got up for the oc-casion.
The large plot of ground in front of the
Invalides (from fifty to one hundred acres) was
crowded with exhibitions of all kinds. There were
five or six circuses going on, four theatres, the whole
fronts being entirely open ; several platforms on
which were performing rope-dancers, dancing-girls,
tumblers, etc. ; innumerable Punch and Judy shows
;
monkeys and ponies performing ; one or two
dozen "flying-jennies" on which twenty or thirty
persons could ride at once; several sham-battles;
four very tall greased poles, on the tops of which were
hung watches and other trinkets, prizes for any one
who could reach them. I noticed one chap who had
started up with his pockets full of pulverized chalk
which he rubbed upon the pole as he ascended. He
had almost reached the prize, but my attention being
called to something else, I did not see how he came
out. Balloons in the shape of mammoth bulls,
lions, leopards, and men, were sent up at intervals
during the day, and late in the evening a very large
balloon was let off" with two men in the car attached.
They went very high, and soon disappeared in the
distance. All these exhibitions were free to the pub-lic,
being paid for by the government.
42 n A L ' S T K A V E L S
.
Late in the cveniiiiir I wandered through the large
open spaces of the Champs Elysees, Place de hi
Concorde, the Tuilories (Jardens and Grove, the
streets de Rivoli, Bonlevards, and the Place Ven-dome,
and found them all crowded alike with a
dense mass of men and women. It would be im-possible
almost to exaggerate the number of people.
"Were I to say I saw a thousand acres of human
beings, I should fall short of the mark, and I saw-but
a small portion of the city.
But now I come to the illumination at night.
"What shall I say ? What can I say about it ? Its
beauty was a thousand degrees beyond any thing I
had dreamed of. If I were to study and write for
twelve months, and emi)loy every word in the Eng-lish
language that signifies, either directl}' or re-motely,
the beautiful, you would have but a faint
glimmering of the scene I would attempt to paiut.
Every street, every house, every garden, every foun-tain,
every tree, every column, monument, and
statue, was brilliant. The number of lights was
beyond calculation. Figures and devices of every
fantastic shape could be seen—festoons, eagles,
chicken-cocks, banners, palaces, pyramids, etc., etc.,
could be seen on every hand. The whole city was
as light as day, and the streets as densely crowded
as could be. Our hotel (de Hivoli) fronts the Tuil-eries
Gardens, and the scene from our balcony was
as fine as could be had from any point. AVe could
see for miles.
The grand fireworks commenced about 9 o'clock,
hal'stravels. 4S
and if Vesuvius ever presented a finer appearance,
it was certainly astonishing to the natives. The
fireworks, like the illuminating lamps, were of the
tri-color—red, white, and blue.
To conclude, it is estimated that there were more
people in Paris by far yesterday than were ever here
before, and that more moneywas expended in getting
up the fetes than was ever expended since the world
began.
I have much more to write, but must reserve it
for another occasion. I must see more of Paris, and
will next time write you a Ifiore interesting letter.
For the present. Adieu. Hal.
P. S.—I must not omit to tell you that at one
time during Sunday I was within a few feet of Em-press
Eugenia. I got a good look at her, and must
call her beautiful. I pulled ofi" my hat, and smiled
and bowed to her. She waved her fan gracefully,
and bowed and smiled in return. (The Emperor
was not near enough to observe us.) Since then I
have felt inclined to cut the acquaintance of my
American friends. Don't know what I may do on
reflection. I dislike to do it, for I have two most
excellent companions, John G. and Arthur E.., who,
by the way, are enjoying Paris extensively.
44 hal's travels.
LETTER V.
PARIS.
Paris, for beauty and magnificence, surpasses
any thing I had dreamed of. Its gay inhabitants,
its beautiful gardens, its magnificent palaces, its
brilliant cafes, its lovely promenades, its cooling
fountains, its galleries of paintings and statuar}^ its
gorgeous shops, its bustling boulevards, and its
flashing quays—all those things I have heard of
from my youth up, but the half had not been t<dd
me. Nor is it possible for me to give you any thing
approaching a correct idea of Paris. To be known
as it is, it must be seen.
I have been studying the French people assidu-ously
for the past three weeks, and have arrived at
a conclusion ! Yes, sir—I have come to a conchi-sion
! You may say this is preposterous—absurd
—
ridiculous—for a fresh import all tlie way from
Ahibama (a region generally regarded by Europeans
as heathendom) to form, and actually cxpresi^ iu
writing, an opinion of this highl}- enlightened and
doubly-refiiu'd pcojile after a study of only three
weeks! Call it what you please. I have ibrmt^d
an opinion, and shall express it boldly, without
equivocation or mental reservation. It is this:
HAL'S TRAVELS. 45
That the French are a strange and unaccountable
people ! The more I see of them, the more I am
constrained to quote the brilliant exclamation of
Hans Yon Vochensberg, upon liis first visit to Paris
:
"Mine Got! vat a peoples!" and again, when he
saw a monkey, with eyes rolled up and hands
erect he exclaimed, " Donner and blitzen ! vat vill
de Frenchman make next?" These classic expres-sions
pass through my mind daily because of the
strange things I see. If there be any thing that a
Frenchman cannot make o% imitate, I do n't know
what it is. And if they are not a happy people,
appearances are deceptive, for they always seem so.
Few of them have hom.es. They live in hired apart-ments,
and take their meals at restaurants. It is
quite common to see whole families walk into a
restaurant together, and take dinner. The mass
of the people seem to live out-doors—all classes.
The public squares, gardens and groves, are thronged
from morning till night. You will see family groups
sitting in the shade in those pleasant gardens, chat-ting
merrily, and doing their work as if they were
at home. Fathers read the papers, mothers and
grown-up daughters ply the needle, little girls skip
the rope, and little boys play ball or fly kites.
Belles promenade, and young "whiskerandoes" do
the agreeable. To a stranger it looks like a per-petual
fete. Babies are never heard to cry here.
The garden of the Tuileries is a place of general
resort; is very extensive, and contains many beau-tiful
fountains, and a great number of statues. A
46 n A L'S TRAVELS.
band of fifty instruments plays here almost every
evening, at government expense, for the edification
of the people—also at many other places of resort.
This is one of the means adopted by Louis Na-poleon
to render the people content, and keep them
from taking off his head.
I have not confined my observation alone to the
French people. There are many strangers here
—
many Americans, but more English. It pays well
to note their manners. They are a peculiar people
—the English arc. The}' delight in hating the
"frog-heating basses," as they call the French, and
suflfer no opportunity to pass to speak disparagingly
or contemptuously of tlicm. The French, in turn,
take pleasure in turning up their noses at the pecu-liarities
and l)igotry of tlie John Bulls. It is amus-ing
to hear the English speak of the French and
^ their institutions. I dropped in at the Grand Hotel
du Louvre the other evening, and spent a delicious
half-hour listening to the conversation of a small
squad of angry Britons. One of them, it seemed,
had been swindled by a coachman out of ever so
many sous; was in consequence very wrathy, and
considered himself licensed to say just what he
pleased about the entire French nation; and all
he said was endorsed by his companions. He
termed them a " 'cathcnish, houtlandish people
;
hutterly hignorant of the courtesies due a stranger."
Believed they would, from the Emperor down,
"cheat the heyes out of a man if they could."
Tliought it strange they didn't "learn to speak
HAL'S TRAVELS. 47
Hinglisli." Thouglit tlie French language "'orrible
gibberish." Met another party in Bois de Boulogne,
a magnificent woodland park—the finest, perhaps, in
the world. They acknowledged its beauty, but said
that "for a display of fine hequipages and haristo-cracy,
it was hinferior to 'yde Park in London."
Still another party, at the Jardin des Plantes, con-ceded
that it was very extensive and beautiful, but
then "the hanimals were hinferior to those in the
Zoological Gardens in Regent's Park." As to the
public buildings of Paris, the}^ were not to be com-pared
with St. Paul's. Pronounced the French
cookery "'orrid." From what I have seen and
heard, I am constrained to believe that the English
hate (not to say fear) the French with the hatred
that only the intensely jealous feel. But the French
turn up their noses, and laugh in their sleeves (they
are too polite to laugh openly) at the growling
British.
But with all the bluff bluntness and dogmatical
bigotry of the English people, and with all their
scorn and jealousy of every thing not English, I
shall favor their success (much as I like the French)
whenever there is a war between them and their
Gallic neighbors—and that there will be a war be-tween
them at no distant day I have no doubt.
Such a war, if declared to-morrow, would be popu-lar
on both sides the Channel. The reasons why I
should favor England are obvious. She is our
mother. Her language is the same, her religion is
48 HAL'S TRAVELS.
the same, and licr government nearly the same.
This is more than we can say of any other country
upon earth ; therefore my cry shall be, " Vice VAn-gtetare!"
Many of the streets of this city are broad and
beautiful. The Boulevards, a succession of wide
streets, are said to be the tinest in the world. One
of them—the Boulevard des Italiens—is the chief
thorouii'hfare for fashion and gayety. Here the
Mrs. Harrises and the Flora McFlimseys most do
congregate ; and here people ma}' be met every
day, the worldwide fame of whom would render
them "lions" anywhere but in Paris. Should one
of them chance to visit the United States, his
advent would be heralded by telegraph, from Maine
to Texas, and the toadies of Kew York would get
up a demonstration.
A stranger in Paris, from a Christian country, is
almost forced to the conclusion that this is a God-despising,
inlidel people. The workshops, lirpior-shops,
stores, and all other kinds of work and play
go on here on Sunday as on other days. Theatres,
circuses, gambling-hells, and all other places of
amusement and infamy, are open. The public
works by the Government and city are carried on.
In short, Sunday is little regarded by the masses.
But there is some salt in Paris; some people
who worship God in the good old way. Found a
little Methodist chapel, last Sunday, and heard an
old-fashioned Methodist sermon. It seemed like
Wk^M.
HAL'S TRAVELS. 49
\getting back home ; for both the singing and
)reaching were such as I have often heard there.
'!h.e congregation was Enghsh.
Went to the Opera last night, and witnessed the
pWformance of Robert le Diable. I was greatly
pleased with the music, which was the finest I ever
heArd, I never before heard a hundred voices in
ehoWs, accompanied by nearly as many instru-men\
s. The Opera, like every thing else in Paris,
is on\ a grand scale. They bore with big augers
here, Wid whatever they undertake to do they do
with ayim.
It is \ raining here to-day; a thing much less
commons in Paris than in London. People, how-ever,
dont seem to mind it. The streets are pretty
well thronged. Crinoline is displayed liberall}^
;
and ladies' knees are no secret in Paris. Modesty
is a jewel h^re ; yet it is to be found.
I have hardly yet become reconciled to the hours of
serving meals bere : coffee at eight or nine o'clock,
breakfast at tw^ve, and dinner at six. JS'o two arti-cles
of food are ^ver served on the same plate. The
stuff the French call bread, is a libel—a slander
upon the genuine\article ; almost tough enough to
draw teeth ; innocent of butter, lard, or salt ; open
as honeycomb, but yith none of its sweetness, and
is never used until it is stale. It is bought by the
yard or foot, to suit |]^urchasers. This is no joke,
but a stubborn fact, ^he bakers furnish it in rolls
from a yard to a yard and a half in length, about
60 nAL'STRAVELS.
the size of a man's arm. Go into a restaurant, and
you ma}' see these rolls stacked in one corner of the
room, one end resting upon the lioor, and the othe:
against the wall.
Our party will he divided in a few days. JoVn
and myself are going into Germany, on the I\hii.e,
to be there during the vintage, or grape harvest.
"We are anxious to learn all we can ahout the cilti-vation
of the grape, and the modus operandi of
making wine. Arthur and Camp Turner (wto, by
the way, I had almost forgotten to tell you is of our
party now—and a valuable accession too) n'ill re-main
here and pursue their studies till cool -veather,
when they contemplate uniting with us in Italy.
If I had time, I would tell you somethingabout our
visit to Versailles, and o^ the Jif/ccn miles jf paintings
we saw there, representing all the important battles
fought by the French nation for fourtJen hundred
years. The palace covers twenty acr^is of ground,
and the forest belonging to it six thousand acres !
The strong-minded maiden lady—the literary
female mentioned in a previous letter—is here. ISbc
is "doing up" Paris with a rush. She goes out at
all hours of the day, and in all sorts of weather. If
there be any sights in Paris t^iat she don't liiid,
they'll hardly be worth looking for. Being of the
pantaloons order of ladies, s^ie goes it alone. I
love, honor—yea, reverence—a modest, retiring
woman ; but from a he woman, good Lord deliver
me
!
HAL'S TRAVELS. 5l
We go from here first to Brussels, wliere we shall
spend a week or two perhaps.
Yonrs, Hal.
P. S.—Dr. Ford, Miss Hobson, and Miss Elliott,
ot l!^ashville, are spending a season here. They
haVe just returned from a tour through Switzerland
and on the Rhine—one of the most interesting
tour)s that can he made in Europe.
52 n A L ' S T R A V E L S
.
LETTER VI.
LRUSSELS.
In the begininng of tins letter permit me to make
a few suggestions for the benefit of all Americans
who ever expect to travel on this continent. I
advise them, in making their preparations to leave
home, to lay in a good supply of charity, forbear-ance,
brotherly kindness, and as much patiem-e Us
they can conveniently carry. They will find abun-dant
use for all these graces at every stage of the
journey—especially the latter. I thought I started
with a pretty good supply, but it is well-nigh ex-liausted.
A few more such attacks as I have suf-fered
since my arrival in the Belgian capital, and I
shall be "done for." Since my arrival here the
beggars have stuck to me like the locusts to the
Egyptians. The "commissionaires," who seek to
guide nie over the city, I have found harder to shake
oif than a Xew York hack-driver, or a hanger-on
about a Niagara Falls hotel. Thus far I have kept
them at bay. I have to use my stick to keep off the
dirty-faced beggar children, many of whom carry
disgustingly besmeared babies in their arms to
excite compassion. I don't know Avhich prcdomi-
hal'stkavels. 5S
,nates. here, the beggars or the black-robed, broad-primmed
Catholic clergy. The number of each is
alarming. I am told that their number is corre-s|)
ondingly great or small in all Catholic countries.
"Where you find one, the other is sure to be. A
numerous armed police is always necessary, too, in
such countries.
This is the greatest city for bells I have yet found.
A stranger is apt to think, from the incessant ring-ing
of ponderous bells, that the town is burning up.
Even now while I write, between eight and nine
o'clock at night, the din is distracting. If I make
any egregious blunders in this letter, you may lay
the sin to the bells of Brussels, or to the Catholic
Ciurch.
. Speaking of churches, this city is somewhat
famous for its ancient and costly edifices. There
are some here many hundreds of years old. I have
visited some of them, and found them quite interest-ing
on account of their age, architecture and paint-ings.
The Church of St. Gudule is the finest
church in the city, and one of the finest in Europe.
It is truly magnificent, and I found it interesting to
wander through and around it for hours. The
painting of the windows is not surpassed anywhere.
The internal adornments are elaborate, and quite
enchanting to all who admire sculpture and paint-ings.
In this church are deposited what are called
the miraculous loafers, said to have been stolen from
the altar at the instio-ation of a sacrileo-ious Jew, and
subjected to the insults of himself and brethren in
-64 hal'stravels.
their synagogues. And this outrageous and diabo-lical
act is said to have been ooramittod on Good
Friday^ which of course added to the heinousness
of the sin. It is said that when these Jewish scof-fers
stuck their knives in the wafers, jets of blood
burst forth from the wounds, and that, by a second
miracle, they were struck senseless. The sinful
Jews wlio had done this were denounced by one
who had been converted to Christianity, and were
seized and put to death by the most cruel treatment,
having their flesh torn off by hot pincers before they
were burned to death at the stake. This is said to
have taken place about the end of the fourteenth
century. This "triumph of the faith," as it is called
here, is celebrated once a 3'ear, on the Sunday fal-lowing
the lifteenth of July, by a solemn procession
of the clergy, and an exhibition of the identical
wafers. This is Catholicism in Belgium. You
may know by this to what degree the intelligence
of the people rises. That beggars abound here is
not to be wondered at.
But with all its superstitions and gullibility, I
must say that Brussels is a beautiful city. The mod-ern
part of the city (which my friend Gamble and
myself have succeeded in exploring without the aid
of a commissionaire) is decidedly handsome, and
would not suffer much by a comparison with Paris.
Indeed, Brussels has been called, and not without
reason, Paris on a small scale. The streets arc broad
and straight, while the buildings are magnificent,
being uniformly four stories high, and nearly all
hal'stkavels. 65
of a snowy whiteness—built of stone or brick, stuc-coed.
The old part of the city is not so handsome.
The buildings are all fine and good, and the streets
are kept perfectly clean, but they are very narrow
most of them, and run in no particular direction.
'They wind about every way, and I find it the easiest
thing in the world to get lost among them. It would
be hard for a snake to put itself into a more awk-ward
shape than the streets of lower Brussels.
And, by the way, speaking of these winding
streets reminds me of a little incident I met with
to-day. I was threading my waj' along one of them,
and met two well-dressed ladies, who seemed to be
w^andering about at random. They were looking up
at signs, and showed plainly by their actions that they
were strangers in the city. Being a stranger myself, I
sympathetically halted near them, when they ap-proached
me, and one of them asked, " Sir, do you
speak English ?" Throwing m3'self back as straight
as a policeman, (for I was glad to hear my native
language spoken in this modern Babel,) I replied,
"Madam, I don't speak an}- thing else!" "Then,
sir," said she, "will you be so kind as to tell ns
where to find a lace manufactory?" "Madam,"
said I, "I will not tell you, but show you a lace manu-factory,"
which I did in short order. I found them
to be a couple of English ladies who had wandered
out from their hotel—^very polite, and as thankful
for my assistance as it is in the nature of the Eng-lish
to be.
And now, being at the lace manufactory, I will
66 _ HAL'S TRAVELS.
tell you something about it. The lace is all made
by hand, no machinery whatever being used in the
making of the Brussels lace. Some thread was
shown me, so fine, that I was told a pound of it was
worth twelve hundred dollars ! and that when manu-factured
into lace the pound would be worth nearly
three times that amount of money ! It was almost
like a spider's web. The women who make the lace
labor very hard, and frequently ruin their eyes wliile
they are yet young. A lace handkerchief worth ten
dollars requires sixty-five days labor ; other laces
in the same proportion. This city, as Americans all
know, is celebrated for its fine laces. Not on]}- the
figures but the groundwork of Brussels laces are
made by hand. The proprietor of the establishment
made desperate efforts to sell me a bill of laces, but
I resisted the temptation to buy.
Went out to AVaterloo yesterday, aud spent the
day wandering about over the old battle-ground.
Had Sergeant Munday (who was in the battle of
Waterloo) for a guide. He is an Englishman, and
of course points out all the interesting parts of the
field with pride. No man who looks at the ground
carefully will Avonder at the defeat of the French.
The English had groat advantage in position. The
Duke of AVclliiigton had reconnoitred and chosen
the ground with a view to draw Najioleon into a
battle there twelve months before the battle was
fought. In the midst of the field a great mound of
earth has been thrown up to mark the spot where
the boucs of the thousands of friends and foes lie
HAL'S TRAVELS. 5T
Iieapecl together. The mound is two hundred feet
high, and sixteen hundred feet in circumference at
the base. It is surmounted by the Belgic lion, a
huge bronze cast, which, with the pedestal it stands
upon, is forty feet high. This lion is intended as a
memorial of the Prince of Orange, and to mark the
spot where he was wounded.
The church and churchyards of Waterloo village
are crowded with memorials of English officers.
They contain about thirty tablets and monuments
to those who fell.
Waterloo is twelve miles from Brussels. "Went
out on a great lumbering stage-coach, crowded in-side
and out with passengers, all English, except G.
and myself. Had the good fortune to sit facing two
prim English spinsters on an outside seat. Took
them for sisters from the favor. Both had auburn
hair—intensely auburn—in fact, some people would
call it red ; thin lips, and fiery, spiteful-looking
eyes. It would have required more than an ordinary
amount of courage to have sought information as to
the age of either of those damsels. Held their
heads very high, and sat straight as Indians. I tried
to draw one of them into conversation, but could n't.
Thought I had succeeded once, when she ventured
a reply to a remark I made about the extremely hard
features of the Belgian peasantry. Said she thought
the "Belgian childring looked rather hinteresting."
Our confab ended here. I amused myself with
drumming Yankee Doodle on the footboard, while
58 HAL's TRAVELS.
she elevated her head two or three degrees higher,
and looked dotiaiitly at her male companions.
Before getting ott' the stage upon reaching the
battle-ground, we were set upon by a horde of relic-venders,
who stuck to us as tenaciously as the Brus-sels
beggars. Ever}'' ragged urchin in the neigh-borhood
seemed to have a pocket full of bullets,
buttons, and other relics, said to have been picked
up on the battle-field. Our guide told us that he
was sure that enough such relics had been sold there
to supply a dozen such battles as that of Waterloo.
The road between Brussels and AYatcrloo is
thronged with beggars. It is as amusing as it is
lamentable to see the eagerness with which the chil-dren
from five to twelve years old run after the
coach. The oldest of them will follow it for miles
in a brisk trot, occasionally turning summersaults
to attract the attention of passengers. Others hump
themselves, throw back their heads, and with their
shaggy hair streaming in the wind, and their elbows
pointing back like the knees of a grasshopper, will
run for nearly an hour without seeming to tire,
never taking their eyes oft" the passengers. If they
get a copper or two, all right ; if not, they don't
seem disajipointed.
Now all these things—the manners, customs, fol-lies,
superstitions, etc., are interesting to me, for my
object in travelling is to see and learn. I think I
am getting the lull value of my time, trouble, and
money. I am learning what books cannot teach.
HAL'ST RAVELS. 59
Tourists generally go in one beaten track, and their
wake is so broad that it is difficult to steer clear of
it, but thus far I have succeeded in doing so. Those
who write books of travel, or for the newspaper
press, have a peculiarly easy way of getting up their
letters and volumes. It is an easy thing to write
either letters or books. For instance, one of these
learned and prolific authors will go to a city, and as
soon as his name is registered at his hotel, he has as
" commissionaire" engaged, and is on the wing see-ing
the lions of the place. He runs from church to
church, from gallery to gallery, and to all the places
of interest, and thus, in a few hours, he "does" the
entire city. At night he sits down, and, with the
assistance of his guide-book and "commissionaire,"
he compiles a huge amount of matter which he
imagines will be read with greediness by the un-travelled,
and consequently ignorant public. By
elaborate plagiarisms from his guide-book, and some
marvellous legends told him by his guide, he is
made to appear exceedingly learned and well-read.
This mode of getting up letters and books of travel
will account for the great similarity observable in
such productions. "With a few items gathered from
their guides, such writers not unfrequently are en-abled
to enter into a learned discussion of the poli-tics
of the countries through which they pass. They
find many things to condemn, but rarely any thing
to commend in a government.
Now such is the track followed by most of the
book and letter writers. I have seen many of them
60 HAL'S TRAVELS.
since my arrival in Europe. I met one in Paris
three weeks ago. He is now here, having visited
more tlian a dozen other cities since leaving Paris.
He thinks he is collecting material for a first-rate
book. Bah
!
Xow as I am travelling for my own edification,
and not to gather materials fi)r a book, I shall make
it a point to stop long enough in every important
city I visit, to learn something about it.
I have now been in Brussels since Saturday last,
(five days,) and the beauty of this city has grown
upon me every day. It is a charming place, and if
the climate were more temperate, I should be surely
tempted to remain here through the winter. It is
the cheapest place to live in I have found in Europe.
Every thing is cheap except beef and mutton.
Hotel bills are very moderate. Dry-goods of almost
every description are astonishingly low. jNIany
English families live here on account of the cheap-ness
of living and the advantageous educational
facilities, but it is said that their presence is grad-ually
banishing the cheapness they seek.
I must acknowledge my indebtedness to Gen. E.
Y. Fair, our Minister to Belgium, for his many
kindnesses; and also to the charming and highly
accomplished Mrs. Fair, for her amiable hospitality.
Alabama may well be proud of the honor of being
BO well represented at the court of Brussels.
Farewell.
Hal.
eal's travels. 61
LETTER VII.
BRUSSELS TO OSNABRUCK,
My last letter to you was written from the fair
city of Brussels, which place we left on the 10th
iust., and I will now proceed to give you a rambling
account of what I have picked up along the way
since that time.
Our first stopping-place was Cologne, a city re-nowned
both in song and story for many things
—
its antiquity, its churches, its galleries of paintings,
its antique curiosities, its massive walls, its bridge
of boats, its castles and towers, its quaint old build-ings,
its Eau de Cologne, and, more than all, for its
great Cathedral. Cologne is a city in which every
one must be interested, especially the antiquarian
and the architect ; whilst those who are willing to
be humbugged (and most people like it) will find
many things to rejoice their hearts, for in barefaced
humbuggery and brazen impudence, Cologne bears
off the palm, as will be seen before the conclusion
of this letter.
The first great object of attraction in Cologne is
the Cathedral, a great building, which is visited, of
course, by every stranger. It is a massive Gothic
60 HALSTRAVELS.
Structure, commenced huudreds of years ago, and
•which is yet unfinished; and so immense is the
work, tliat the present generation will hardly see it
completed, although the work is being vigorously
prosecuted. It will be the finest, but not tnc largest
church in the world. It is 511 feet long, 231 feet
wide, and will be 511 feet high. To finish it, will
cost $5,000,000. The choir is IGO feet high. In-ternally,
the cliurch seems to be almost completed,
and from its size, height, and disposition of pillars,
arches, chapels, and beautifully colored windows,
resembles a splendid vision. I attended the cele-bration
of high mass here on Sunday last.
This Cathedral, like all other Catholic churches
in Europe, possesses many wonderful curiosities,
Bome of which will cliallenge the credulity of the
most credulous. For instance, we are shown the
shrine of the Three Kings of Cologne, or jilagi, who
came from the East with presents for the infant
Saviour. The bones of these wise men are pre-served
in a massive silver case. Their names,
Gaspar, Melchoir, and Baltl^azer, are inscribed
•upon their skulls in rubies. The bedel who ex-hibits
these bones asserts roundly that thoy are
truly and positively the bones of the Magi, and that
all others who pretend to exhibit them are impos-tors.
There is also exhibited here a bone of St.
Matthew ! But the " trump card" of the Cologueans
is the church of St. Ursula, and the curiosities it
contains. Here the wonderful things of the city
are exhibited, and no traveller is permitted to pass
hal'stravels. 63
tiirough Cologne without being importuned to visit
it. Here he is shown the bones of St. Ursula, and
the skulls of the eleven thousand virgins who were
her companions. On entering the church, these
hideous relics meet the eye, beneath, above, and
&,round ; they are built into the walls, in the ceiling,
and displayed in glass cases in various parts. The
saint herself reposes in a coffin behind the great
altar, while the skulls of a select few of her asso-ciates
are permitted to remain near her.^ We are
told, with prodigious seriousness, that this St. Ursula
was the daughter of an English king, who, with
eleven thousand virgin followers, made a pilgrimage
to Rome. On their return, the whole party suffered
martyrdom at Cologne, at the hands of the barba-rian
Huns, because they refused to break their vows
of chastity ! The skulls of the whole 11,000 have
been preserved. Some of them are pierced with
bullet holes, which causes some skeptical infidels to
insinuate that they have been picked up on various
battle-fields. The true' believers, however, scout
such an idea. In this church is also one of the ves-sels
in which the water was turned into wine at the
marriage in Cana of Galilee. Kow, all these things,
including a piece of the true cross, and one of the
identical thorns with which our Saviour was crowned,
are exhibited with imperturbable gravity, (not to say
impudence,) and the spectator besought to believe
that they are truly what they are represented to be.
To see them costs money, of course, but what seeker
after knowledge would refuse to pay a few francs to
G4 H A L ' S T R A V E L S
.
see SO many M'ondcrful relies ! The student of hur
man nature is richly repaid for liis time and money,
in witnessing the coolness with which these people
assert the genuineness of their relics ; while the
credulous antiquarian views them with an astonish-ment
only equalled by his delight. The Roman
Catholics are great judges of human nature. They
know that the people love to be humbugged, and
knowing this, they delight in humbugging them.
The}' lind it a paying business. They have learned
that the wise man is as susceptible as the fool, and
will pay his money for being liumbugged with equal
liberality. Barnum, as a Bishop, Avould be a jewel
to the Catholic Church.
But aside from the churches of Cologne and their
curiosities, I viewed the city with much interest.
I walked about the narrow streets, looked at the
moss-covered walls and sharp antique gables, and
wondered liow many centuries the storms had beat
upon them—strolled upon the old Roman Avails and
gazed at the old towers—sauntered upon the quay
and the bridge of boats, and looked with delight up
and down the classic Rhine, admiring the curiously
shaped little steamers as they scudded by. And
then tlie pooiilc look so odd ! The groat wooden
shoes, the llaring caps, and the short skirts of the
peasant women, Avere objects of interest. The
clumsy Avagons and carriages, the large horses and
small donkeys, to say notliing of the dogs in har-ness,
all came in for a share of admiration.
From what I saAV Avhile there, I Avould say that
A
hal'stravels. 65
the ladies of Cologne were fond of being seen.
Large numbers were on the streets at all times.
'Now in some portions of our country, ladies' feet
are little more than traditionary leg-ends, but not so
with the Prussian ladies. Their feet are palpable
facts, not sought to be concealed, but displayed with
much boldness. Nor are they wanting in size. A
visitor at Cologne will be struck with these facts.
I would write a paragraph about the iilthiness of
the streets and alleys of Cologne, if I could do so
without following in the footsteps of other writers
;
but as everybody who writes at all about this city
gives them a benefit, I shall pass them by. Much
ink has been shed and many hard things said about
these streets, and some have been so uncharitable
as to even abuse them in poetry, which is terrible,
you know. I^ow I remember to have read once a
verse or two, by some heartless individual, running
somewhat thus
:
"In Col'n, that town of monks and bones,
And pavements fanged with murderous stones,
And hags and rags and hideous wenches,
I counted two-and-seventy stenches,
All well-defined and genuine stinks
!
The river Rhine, it is well known.
Doth wash the city of Cologne ;
But tell me, ye powers divine
!
What e'er can wash that river Rhine ?"
It was confidently predicted by the people of
,
Cologne, that the writer of the above wicked lines
would come to no good end, which proved true; for
3
66 ual'stravels.
not many years after, he Avas suftbcated by tlie
stench in one of the alleys of that city. Verdict of
the jury of inquest, "Served him right."
Eau de Cologne, so renowned all over the "world,
is pleaded as an oifset to the two-and-seventy
stenches observable in the city. It is an article of
considerable commerce. There are upwards of sixty
manufacturers of the article, and, strange to say,
more than half of them bear the name of Farina, all
claiming to be descendants of the original inventor
of the perfume, whose name was Farina. lie lived
in 1670. Jean Maria Farina is said to be the right-ful
heir. Don't know how many of them bear the
name of Jean Maria.
But let us leave the perfumed city of Cologne, and
say a word about Osnabriick—a city of smaller size,
less note, and less odoriferous, but one which has a
name and a place in history, and is withal no mean
city. Osnabriick contains about 15,000 inhabitants,
and is one of the oldest cities I have seen. It is, I
believe, the capital of a province of the kingdom of
Hanover—is a walled, city, situated very prettily in
a level plain, surrounded on nearly- all sides by high-lands,
which present a picturesque appearance.
Friend G. and myself have been here several days,
enjoying ourselves extensively, having been kindly
and hospitably entertained in the families of Mr. L,
and Mrs. II. We shall remember Osnabriick and
some of its good citizens for many days. ^Ir. L.
and young Mr. II, have kindly showed us all the
notable buildings, and other things of interest, in-
HAL'ST RAVELS. 6T
eluding the cturclies, City Hall, and some very fine
Coffee Houses and Gardens in tlie suburbs. The
Cathedral and St. Maria's (Lutheran) are the finest
churches in the city. The City Hall is a castellated
building, in which the negotiations for the peace of
"Westphalia were conducted. It contains a curious
collection of very old plate. In the open space op-posite
-this Hall stands a bronze statue of Justus
Moser. An evening or two ago, in company with
the intelligent Mrs. H. and her accomplished
daughters, we drove out to the ancient village of
Iburg, and viewed the venerable castle and palace
from which the village takes its name. The scenery
about Iburg cannot be sketched by any thing short
of a master's pencil ; it would therefore be bad taste
in me to attempt it. I would, however, say to all
travellers who pass through Hanover, to visit Iburg,
and view the surrounding panorama from the
heights of the Great Timpen. I would also recom-mend
a visit to Schwitzenhoff, a beautiful place of
general resort and recreation for all the good people
of Osnabriick. Also "Little Switzerland."
Taking the people of Osnabriick for a sample, I
must say that I am much pleased with the Germans.
I find them, so far as my acquaintance extends, in-telligent,
educated, and refined, and also very hospi-table.
Their great number of places of public resort
and amusement, shows them to be a very lively, fun-loving
people ; philosophers who believe in enjoying
time as it passes. This is all right. I should like
them more, however, if it were not for their national
68 ual'stravels.
and iudividiial disregard of the Sabbath. They do
not seem to have learned all the Commandmeuts.
"We shall start to-morrow for Cobleuz ou the
Rhine, and shall probably make a little trip from
there up the Moselle river, on which is said to be
some of the finest scenery in Europe, and where the
grape is grown to great perfection. Moselle wines
are celebrated and quite popular. From there we
will wander on up the Rhine at leisure. AVe wish
to see the country as it is, and shall therefore take
our time. It is the object of travellers generalh' to
travel over as much territory as they can in as short
a space as possible. But we are content to see less
and learn more. Adieu.
Hal.
H A L'S TRAVELS. 69
LETTER VIII.
ON THE EHINE.
When Beavers was a candidate for Congress, in
1857, lie opened the canvass with a history of the
Democratic party, which he continued from day to
day, at his diiferent appointments, until he finished
it, beginning each day at tlie place he left off the day
before ; thus giving to each audience its portion, not,
however, in due season. I shall adopt Beaver's plan in
this letter, and begin Avhere I left ofi" in my last. That
was dated Osnabrlick, and it is but proper that you
should know my wanderings since leaving that city.
"Well, I left there about a week ago, and have since
that time been lingering among and drinking in.
the beauties of the Rhine, gliding upon its peaceful
bosom, climbing the lofty peaks along its margin,
exploring the feudal castles and ruined towers
which crown their craggy heights ; in short, I have
been bathing and basking amid those classic scenes
that have been intermingled with my day-dreams
from early boyhood. The first grand scenery of
the Rhine begins with the " Seven Mountains," not
far above the city of Bonn. At Cologne we bought
tickets and embarked on a steamer for Coblenz
;
70 U A L'S TRAVELS.
but finding that it would be downright stupidity to
rush by so much l)eautiful scenery at steamboat
speed, we debarked at KonigsAvinter, a town just
opposite the tallest of the " Seven Mountains," and
have since that time been wandering from place to
place on foot, which is the only way the Rhine and
its neighborhood can be properly seen. He who
travels up or down this glorious river by steamer,
never stopping, and then boasts of having seen its
beauties, is a deceived individual.
At Konigswinter we were met by a swarm of
commissioners or guides, each of whom professed
to know every inch of ground and every stone
upon the Seven Mountains. We succeeded, after a
struggle, in fighting our way through them just in
time to be set upon by a horde of muleteers, who
wanted us to ride up the mountain upon diminu-tive
donkeys, no larger than billygoats. AVe
resisted the temptation to ride, notwithstanding
the red saddles, and, with our staves in our hands,
started up on foot. It looked like a perilous under-taking
to reach the pinnacle of the Drachenfels,
(Dragon Rock,) on the top of which stands, or
rather seems to hang, a noble old ruin. We reached
it, however, and the view amply repaid the toil.
This rock and ruin has been rendered more interest-ing
by the verses of Byron :
*' The castlctl crng of Draclicnfels
Frowns o'er tlie wide nml winding Kliine;
Whose brcnst of waters broadly swells
Between the banks which bear the vine;
hal's travels. 71
And hills all rich with blossomed trees,
And fields which promise corn and wine ;
And scattered cities crowning these,
Whose far white walls along them shine,
Have strewed a scene which I should see
With double joy, wert thou with me.
"And peasant girls, with deep blue eyes,
And hands which offer early flowers,
Walk smiling o'er this Paradise.
Above, the frequent feudal towers
Through green leaves lift their walls of gray
;
And many a rock which steeply towers.
And noble arch, in proud decay,
Look o'er this vale of vintage bowers.
But one thing want these banks of Rhine
—
Thy gentle hand to clasp in mine !
" The river nobly foams and flows ;
The charms of this enchanted ground.
And all its thousand turns, disclose
Some fresher beauty varying round.
The haughtiest breast its wish might bound
Through life to dwell delighted here
:
Nor could on earth a spot be found
To nature and to me so dear.
Could thy dear eyes, in following mine.
Still sweeten more these banks of Rhine."
From the heights of Drachenfels I counted twelve
cities and towns in plain view, besides a number of
ruined castles on other points along the river.
"We descended about sundown, and slept at our
inn at Konigswinter. In the morning we shouldered
our carpet-bags, crossed the river, and took our
way along the high road towards the village of
Rolandseck, above which, on the heights, stands
72 n AL S TR AVE LS.
the ruin of the ancient baronial ibrtress and tower
of Rolantlseck. There is a little romantic story
connected with this ruin. It receives its name from
a tradition that the famous Roland, nephew of
Charlemagne, chose this spot because it commanded
a view of the convent of Nonnenworth, (which con-vent
still stands on an island in the river, just oppo-site,)
within whose walls his betrothed bride had
taken the vail, npon hearing a false report of his
having fallen in battle. He lived here a lonely
hermit for many years, which has furnished the
subject of one of Schiller's most beautiful ballads,
"The Knight of Toggenburg." The scene, how-ever,
has been transferred by Schiller from the
Rhine to Switzerland. So says Murray.
After climbing to this height, and viewing the
grand scenery from many points, we again de-scended,
and took the highway for the town of
Ramagcn, in the course of which we met with an
adventure not to be forgotten. (I had forgotten to
mention that there arc now three in our party,
instead of but two, young Mr. Ilollenberg having
accompanied ns from Osnabriick. lie speaks both
German and English, and is quite an agreeable
travelling companion.) The road runs immediately
through vineyards nearly the whole wa}-. The
vines bend beneath the weight of a heavy crop,
and, as there are no fences in this country, the
luscious clusters hang temptingly over the road.
We liailed this sight with a gladness similar to that
of the spies who entered the promised laud. See-
HAL'S TRAVELS. 73
ing so many hundreds of acres of the blushing
fruit, and deeming it nothing amiss, we, with that
innocence peculiar to ignorance, began to pluck
and eat. A long, gangling, blue-sliirted fellow,
standing in the road some hundred yards ahead of
us, raised his long bony arm ominously, and uttered
a horrible sentence, in which our friend H. detected
the word "police." He then called some half
dozen laborers, near by, and with them started for
the village of Oberwinter, (I shall always remember
the name,) lying just ahead of us. We followed
on very slowly, feeling assured that something was
going to happen. When we entered the village we
saw heads projected from every window, and know-ing
winks and nods were passed from neighbor to
neighbor as we threaded the narrow streets. Young
women laughed at us, and the old women looked at
us -with, a sort of pitying expression, while the
crowd of boys trudging at our heels momentarily
swelled and grew larger. It was evident that every-body
in Oberwinter knew that we were in a scrape.
Even the dogs barked at us. At the far end of the
village we saw a crowd collected, in the midst of
which stood the blue-shirted individual, with his
arms going like winding-blades. His gestures in-dicated
that we were the subject of his discourse.
We trudged on, and, upon reaching the crowd,
were surrounded by the rabble, and informed that
we must go before the burgomaster of the town, to
answer to the charge of stealing grapes. The
tongue of the informant was going like a bell-
74 hal'stravels.
clapper, and the witnesses who had accompanied
him were scarcely loss noisy. The burgomaster
was present, and, in a very loud tone, gave us to
understand that we had committed a very grave
offence ; that he was a man of great authority, and
that we should feel the weight of his power. We
followed him into his tilth}' office—a small room
redolent of lager- beer and tobacco smoke. lie
opened a ponderous book, and proceeded to read
the law, which was all "Dutch" to us. Then, with
his rusty spectacles thrown back, he proceeded to
deliver a loud harangue, while his arms swayed to
and fro like the sails of a wind-mill. Told us we
must go to prison ; to which we dissented most
empliatically ; and my friend John was about be-ginning
to give the old skunk a lesson in civility
with the butt end of his cane, and I felt inclined to
give the leading witness a similar lesson, when
friend Ilollenberg quieted the clamor by producing
his purse, and asking how much money it would
take to get us off. The eyes of the belligerent
magistrate brightened, and smiles took the i)lace
of frowns. But for all his smiles, John thought a
cudgelling due him, wliich he wcnild have ]»ro-ceeded
to administer, had I not persuailed him that
discretion was the better part of valor ; which to
me was evident, when I looked at the crowd
of big, greasy, bloused i'russians standing round.
The burgomaster told us if we would pay a good
round sum of money, (which amount would go for
the benefit of the poor,) we should be released. I
hal's travels. 75
supposed we sliould have to pay ten or fifteen
dollars apiece, and was prepared to disburse to that
extent ; but Hollenberg knew his countrymen better
than I did, and offered him half a thaler, (about
thirty-seven and a half cents ;) which he disdain-fully
refused. He then offered him a thaler, and
told him we would give no more. He took it, and
we shook the dust from our feet, and departed. As
we left the office, a friend said to us, (I know he
was a friend, from a remark he made,) " Go, gen-tlemen,
and sin no more." This was the interpre-tation
given to the remark b}'' H. I have made up
my mind as to one thing : if ever I catch that bur-gomaster,
or either of the half dozen Moused wit-nesses,
in the streets of Huntsville, I'll—I'll—but
there's no use saying what I'll do, for it is danger-ous
to make threats ; but I '11 make them sorry they
ever saw a bunch of grapes.
' Leaving Oberwinter, we soon reached the town of
Ramagen, an old town in which are traces of Ko-man
architecture, dating back to the year 375. Re-mained
at Ramagen all night, and the next day
made an excursion up the winding valley of Ayr,
down which the crystal waters of the little river Ayr
flow beautifully. The scenery up this valley is pic-turesque
beyond description. "We ascended about
fourteen miles to the towns of Ahrweiler and Alte-nah.
Kear the latter place is a very high peak of
the mountain, on the top of which stands a majestic
old ruin, the history of which I could not learn, ex-cept
that it was built by a robber chief many hun-
76 hal'stravels.
dred years ago. While standi up; upon tlie tallest
pinnacle, a gust of wind took my hat ott", and I have
not seen it since. Not wishing to return to Rama-gen
bareheaded, I took a large comforter which re-sembled
two or three yards of fancy carpeting, and
wound it around my head, a la Turk. I was the
admiration of the rustics all along the road to Kama-gen,
and in the village of Ahrweiler nearly the whole
town gathered to sec me, and a crowd of little boys
followed me for some distance beyond the wall.
Some said " Turko," and others said " Zouave.'' I
enjoyed the fun very much.
After returning from the Ayr (or Ahr) valley,
which, by the way, is Avorld-rcnowiied for its vine-yards,
we took boat and procoodcd up to Brohl,
(one or two hours' run,) from whirli point we walked
to Laacher Sea, where we now are. This is a very
singular lake, nearly circular in form, supposed to
occupy the crater of an extinct volcano, is about
two miles long, and one and a half miles wide, and
very deep. The appearance of a deep bine lake
liemmed in on all sides by a ridge of hills completely
covered with luxuriant wood down to the water's
edge is exceedingly beautiful, as well as singular.
At one end of this lake, cinl>owcrcd in a forest of
large trees, rises a grand old Abbev, Avith five im-mense
towers, built about scvrn hundred years ago.
The Abbey, with the many buildings attached to it,
is enclosed with a massive stone wall. This is not
used for church ]>urposes now, but is ]>rivate i)ru-perty
; and many of the halls once occupied by nuns
HAL'S TRAVELS. 77
and monks are now used for granaries and cow-stalls.
One of the buildings is an inn, in which I
now write.
I must now go to bed, for John and Benno have
been snoring this hour. Yours, etc.,
Hal.
P. S.
—"We have passed through many vineyards
since our interview with the burgomaster of Ober-winter,
but thinking the grapes " sour," we troubled
them not.
78 n A l'S TRAVELS.
~l-
LETTER IX.
RHINE TO GENEVA.
"While "taking mine ease at mine inn,"' ami
smoking my fair long })ipc, I will scribble you a lew
items picked up along the way since ni}' last letter.
By glancing at the map, you will see that I am
many hundreds of miles away from the plaee from
which I last addressed you. I was then lolling upon
the lair shores of the pretty little Laachar Sea, away
up in Prussia. Since then I have visited many
places. Have wandered upon the "banks of the
blue ^loselle ;" clambered among the ruins of the
old "Mouse Castle;" stood upon the heights of the
great Neiderwald ; have tarried at " Bingen on the
Rhine;" have roved through the celebrated vine-yards
of Johannisberg; groped through the world-renowned
wine-cellars of Rndesheim ; lingered in
the groves and around the hot springs of Ems aij^d
AV^eisbaden; strolled through the streets and gardens
of llic beautiful <ity of Erankfort-on-the-Main ;
have struggled w\) the high mountains and gazed
upon the ruitu'd castles of Heidelberg; have looked
and wondered at the great tower of the Strasburg
Cathedral ; have traversed the romantic hills and
valleys of Switzerland; stood upon "the margin of
HAL'S TRAVELS. 79
fair Zuricli's waters;" walked "beneath the dark
shadows of the Jura Mountains, and gazed with awe
at the snow-crowned, cloud-capped peaks of the
terrible Alps ; have sailed upon the limpid waters
of the lakes of Bienne, ISTeufchatel, and Geneva
;
have been charmed with the beauties of the " ar-rowy
Rhone," and now find myself quietly nestled
down in the quiet city of Geneva, long noted for
its beauty, the taste of its people, and as the place
where they make watches. Geneva is one of the
most beautiful cities I have seen, situated at the
west end of the lake of the same name—a noble
sheet of water which no European traveller fails to
see, and which has been rendered classic by the his-torian,
the romance writer, and the poet. It seems
that the beauties of this lake well-nigh made a vir-tuous
man of Lord Byron, judging by the following
lines penned by that illustrious poet :
"Clear, placid Leman! thy contrasted lake,
With the -wild world I dwelt in, is a thing
Which warns me, with its stilkiess, to forsake
Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring.
This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing
To waft me from distraction ; once I loved
Torn ocean's roar, but thy soft murmuring
Sounds sweet, as if a sister's voice reproved,
That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved."
Thus was the great poet moved to write upon
viewing this lake when calm and peaceful. Later
he was nigh being lost in a storm, while making an
excursion on the lake, when he wrote as follows
:
80 UAL's TRAVELS.
" The sky is changed ! and sucli ;i change I night,
And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong,
Yet lovel}' in your strength as is the light
Of a dark eye in woman ! Far along,
From peak to peak, the rattling crags among,
Leaps the live thunder ! Not from one lone cloud,
But every mountain now hath found a tongue,
And Jura answers through her misty shroud,
Back to the joyous Alps who call to her aloud!
How the lit lake shines, a phosphoric sea,
And the big rain comes dancing to the earth
!
And now again 'tis black—and now the glee
Of the loud hills shakes with its mountain-mirth,
As if they did rejoice o'er a young earthquake's birth."
I liave been now two days in Geneva, charmed
and delighted witli tlio rugg6d scenery which pre-sents
itself on every hand. The black, steep Jura
mountains stretch themselves all along the northern
Rhore of the lake. To the south rise the noble Alps,
and away in the distance is seen the gigantic iSIont
]>]anc, with its snow and glaciers glistening in the
sun. I shall not be content until I have a nearer
view of this giant of mountains.
If I had not begun this with a determination to
write a very short letter, I Avould tell you a great
deal about what I have seen within the last week or
two, but as I don't wish to bore you or your readers
very deep, I will refrain ; for it would be as a thrice-told
tale, as every nincom})oop who travels over the
route, if he can write at all, must needs atteippt a
description. I refer you to various books of travel,
where you will lind all that I could say.
HAL's TRAVELS. 81
I have been mucli interested in the vintage, and'
have learned what I could about the process of cul-tivating
the grape and making wine. It is interest-ing
to see the Swiss peasantry gathering the grapes.
They make a frolic of it, and sing with great glee
as they perform their labor. They are liard-lookiDg
creatures, both male and female, the latter coarse to
an astonishing degree. It is romantic to talk and
write about the hardy and frugal Swiss peasantry,
and to see them at a distance is very well ; but when
you come in contact with them, the poetry vanishes.
I have not yet seen a handsome or even passable
face among the female peasants—though it is said
they are virtuous and happy. I doubt not there
is rustic virtue among them—a vast deal of it—but
they are certainly a most filthy people. They labor
in the fields much harder than the negroes of the
South, and every woman among them can carry a
load upon her head that would make an ordinaiy
mule stagger. They live like hogs—men, women,
children, horses, cows and goats, all under the same
roof.
But I must close this brief scroll. John, who has
just come in, (he has been out to buy us some to-bacco,)
says it is time to go to bed. We start for
Italy to-morrow. Shall cross the Alps by waj of
the Simplon Pass. Shall have plenty of company.
The flat-bosomed lady, who is gathering notes for a
book, will proba'bly be in the party—also the bandy-legged
gentleman who wears gold spectacles, of
whom I intended to tell you, but sha'n't do it now.
82 hal'stravels.
Friend Robinson Las declined going to Italy, pre-ferring
to return home, and will probably go by the
steamer that carries this letter, or soon after. He
saj's he is tired of Europe. I regret his determina-tion
much, for he is a noble travelling companion,
and I had hoped to spend the Avinter with him be-neath
the "fair Italian skies." Had also hoped to
have friend Turner with us, (who is as clever as
boys ever get to be,) but fear we shall not. Don't
know what his plans are. He is in Paris.
Farewell. Hal.
nAL'S TRAVELS. 83
LETTER X.
GENEVA TO MILAN.
I AM at length in Italy—fair, bright, beautiful,
sunny Italy !—the land of poetry and popery—of
song and sausages — music and maccaroni — of
orange-groves and organ-grinders— of roses and
rogues—of soldiers and sardines—of minstrels and
monkeys—of fat, round-bellied priests, and lean,
gaunt, starving beggars—in short, the land where
pleasure and misery jostle each other in the streets,
and often go hand in hand. Such is Italy, aud
such are the strange blending of things here. The
Italian towns are all strangely marked; houses with
colonnades, streets with awnings, shops teeming
with sausages, maccaroni and garlic ; lazy-looking,
loitering lazzaroni, in red nightcaps, and bare maho-gany-
colored legs, intermixed with mules, burly
priests, organ-grinders, and females veiled with the
black mantilla : these things fill up the picture of
an Italian town, poets and romance-writers to the
contrary notwithstanding.
But Milan is a fine city, and, to say nothing of its
people and their habits, is a city that any country
might be proud of. I have been on the pad all day,
84 n A L'S TRAVELS.
seeing its beauties and lions. Tlie first place of in-~
terest, and which has been termed, not inappropri-ately,
perhaps, the eighth -wonder of the world, is
the great Cathedral, the finest building, no doubt,
in the world, but not so large as ISt. Peter's at Home
or St. Paul's, London. It is built of pure white
marble, is four hundred and ninety-one feet long,
three hundred and thirty-six feet high. There are
ten thousand spires and pinnacles on this church, and
seven thousand of them are surmounted with statues,
and the other three thousand will be when the work
is finished, which will require at least a century. It
was commenced four hundred and seventy-three
years ago. The interior is adorned with man}- line
paintings. The massive windows are of the finest
stained glass, representing thousands of Scripture
scenes. The scene from the top of the Milan Ca-thedral
can certainly not be surpassed in the world.
The spires of perhaps a hundred towns and cities
may be seen, while in the far-off distance may be
seen the snowy chain of the Alps. Mount Rosa
looms up more grandly than any other peak,
although Mont Blanc is plainly seen : the former is
one hundred and twentj'-tive miles away, and the
latter two hundred and twenty.
Among the other things of interest I have visited
in Milan, I may mention the Amphitheatre, (now
filled with French artillery,) which is capable of
seating thirty-seven thousand people ! Uerc all the
fvfcs of a national character are performed. Also
went to see the great original painting of the "Last
HAL'S TRAVELS. 85
Supper," by Leonardo Da Vinci. It is a fresco, in
what was formerly the Convent of Le Grazie, but is
now used as a barracks for soldiers. The world is
flooded with copies of this celebrated painting,
which is a proof of its excellence.
I have visited many other places of interest in the
city, but it would be a bore to you for me to dwell
on them. In fact, I have no disposition to dwell on
them now, for I am becoming bored seriously with
Milan, not less than six street organs having been
furiously grinding near by ever since I commenced
this letter. I am fond of music, but too much of a
good thing is not pleasant.
But perhaps I ought to tell you something about
our trip from Geneva to this city. I will do it for
the want of something else to write about, although,
like nine out of every ten who attempt to do so, I
have no "knack" of describing scenery.
To begin : "We left Geneva on the morning of the
ninth, just as the god of day rolled proudly and
sublimely up above the snowy mountains of the
east. The sky was clear, serene and lovely. 'Not a
breath of wind disturbed the placid bosom of the
silvery lake which reflected the deep shadows of the
black Jura on one side, and the towering Alps on
the other. Our feathery craft glided swiftly and
gracefully over the still waters like a thing of life,
and nothing was there to jar upon the senses save a
slight hissing of steam and the flutter of the paddle-wheels,
and even that seemed musical. The snowy
villages along the shore were as lilies nestling upon
86 II AL'S TRAVELS.
the bosom of the ^vaters, while far away in the dis-tance
eoukl be seen the beautiful city of Vevay, with
its tall spires reflected beautifully in the deep blue
lake. Our captain stood leaning lazily upon the
quarter- rail, smoking his pipe, while passengers
stood in mute wonder at the glorious scenery loom-ing
up on every hand. Flocks of happy waterfowl
were skimmiug about in various directions, and
anon the nimble trout could be seen to spring high
out of the water to seize the unsuspecting butterfly
as it dallied above the ripple. All on board that
little steamer seemed wrapped in meditation. Your
correspondent was in a peculiar mood—bordering
on poetry—and had actually got two lines fully com-posed,
when his meditations were cruelly broken in
upon by the literar}- young lady with the scanty
breastworks, (mentioned in former letters,) who
came up and said, "Why, Mr. Hal, what is the
matter with you ? You are as solemn as if you were
going to a funeral. Do rouse yourself and come
forward, and see what a thumpin' big iish a sailor
has caught. Come, it's in a tub of water in the
forward part of the boat."' The itoetry fled, and up
to this time I have not been able to whistle it back.
I went and saw the fish, of course.
But to go on with the story. We left the steamer
at a town callod liouvoret, (pronounced Bouvc/v/y,
for yon know the French take a sort of malicious
pleasure in pronouncing things diflerently from the
way they 8j>ell them,) at the east end of the lake,
took the cars and travelled through the mountain-
HAL'S TRAVELS. 87
gorges for about twenty miles, where the railway
ceases. Here we took diligence, and continued the
journey up the valley of the river Rhone, until
about two o'clock at night, halting at the town of
Breig, just where the ascent of the Alps begins.
All along the route from Geneva to Breig we noticed
that the people were idle, and dressed up in their
Sunday clothes. We concluded that the ninth of
October must be a general Swiss holiday.
At Breig we stopped on the 10th, for we have
made it a rule, ever since leaving home, to rest on
the Sabbath. Were greatly shocked to see the
people of Breig attending to all the ordinary affairs
of life, seeming to care no more for the Sabbath
than if they had never known such a day. The
smith's hammer, the mason's trowel, and the car-penter's
saw were heard, while the mowers in the
neighborhood were busy gathering in their scanty
crops of hay. The stores and shops were all open,
and the peasant women were lugging their great
burdens about as usual. The churches were there,
but no glad bell was heard calling the people to
worship, John and I read our Bibles, and deeply
commiserated the poor ignorant people, believing
that they were ignorant of the holiness of the day.
Late in the afternoon John concluded to look over
his diary, in doing which he discovered to his amaze-ment
that we were keeping Monday, and had actually
travelled all day Sunday ! We could then account
for the Swiss holiday.
Tuesday morning we took the diligence, and
88 II A L's TRAVELS.
started up the moimtain, the Simplon Pass. Tliis
is the best mountain road ever built. It is a tri-umph
of engineering skill never accomplished before
nor since. The world is indebted to Napoleon
Bonaparte for it, who, remembering the great dith-cultj
he found in crossing the Alps, determined to
make a highway that cannon could be carried over
without ditiiculty. It is a stupendous work, the
greatness of which cannot be appreciated without
being seen. It winds up the mountain in such a
tortuous and zigzag way, that even where it is
steepest, it does not rise more than one foot in thir-teen.
The cost of this road averaged about ^2"),000
per mile. It took six years to build it, and more
than thirty thousand men were employed on it at
one time. Houses of refuge—seven in number
—
arc erected at convenient distances, to protect tra-vellers
from avalanches, which occur frequently in
early summer. For more than two-thirds of the
way up, the sides of the mountain are covered with
vegetation, and wherever a dozen yards of arable
land can be found, there is the hut of the hardy
mountaineer. In some places the cabins seem to
cling to the sides of the mountain as tenaciously as
a bat clings to the wall of a cavern. After gaining
two-thirds or more of the ascent, nothing but a pic-ture
of desolation surrounds the traveller. The pine
has no longer the scanty jnttance of soil which it
requires for nourishment, the hardy buf beautiful
Alpine ilower ceases to eml)cHish the sterile soli-tude.
The eye wanders over snow and glacier,
hal'stravels. 89
fractured rock and roaring cataract, relieved only by
that stupendous monument of human labor, the
road itself, winding along the edges of precipices,
penetrating the solid granite, striding over the furi-ous
torrents, burrowing through dark and dripping
grottoes, beneath accumulated masses of ice and
snow.
Upon reaching the highest summit or culminat-ing
point of the Pass, I made a vigorous effort to
work myself up into a poetical mood. Thought of
all the romance I had read about crossing the
"proud Alps." Jumped up on a large rock, waved
my hat above my head, gazed at the country below
and the eternal glaciers above ; threw my shawl
about me, and imagined that it looked very much
like Julius Csesar's mantle ; and while it waved in
the breeze, and my hair streamed in the wind, I
looked away down the acclivity and saw far down
in the distance a great lumbering diligence with its
long team crawling around a point of the mountain.
I thought it looked like a huge ant winding round
a potato-hill. The idea was so ridiculous that I in-voluntarily
burst into a laugh, which banished ro-mance.
Just then I was enveloped in a passing
cloud, and a few spits of snow and sleet together,
with the piercing cold wind, warned me that I was
exposing myself, when I muffled up, and crawled
into the diligence.
We descended the mountain in a sweeping trot,
and slejDt that night in Domo d'Ossolo, Italy. The
next day went by diligence to Palanza on Lake
90 11 A L ' S T 11 A V E L S
.
Maggiore, "wlierc we took steamer to Arona, and
fiuished the trip to Milan by railroad. Aronld tell
you something about the beauties of Lake Maggiore,
but these miserable hand-organs have put my head
to aching, so I'll quit and go to bed. Good-night.
p. s.
—"We go to Venice to-morrow. If you find
this letter bunglingly got up, just laj- it to the organ-grinders,
for they have kept up a most horrible
squeaking.
hal'stravels. 91
• LETTER XI.
VENICE.
At last in Yenice !—"Beautiful Venice, the bride
of tlie sea"—a city fair to look upon, and as strange
as it is fair. Here the houses are palaces, the streets
are canals, and the omnibusses, hacks, and pleasure
carriages are gondolas. Dwelling in "marble halls"
is not a "dream" here, but a reality. The Hotel
Yittoria, where we stop, was in olden times a marble
palace of great splendor; but now, like many other
palaces in Yenice, it looks seedy. Indeed, the
whole city wears what may be termed a shabby-genteel
appearance, though it bears evidences of
having once been one of the richest and most mag-nificent
cities of the world. It is beautiful yet, but
cities, like belles, must fade before time.
Every thing is so strange, so quiet here. The
loudest noise heard is man's voice ; no lumbering
drays or wagons in the streets—no clattering car-riages,
nor tramp of horse. There be grown-up
men and women too, perhaps, who never saw a
horse or wheeled carriage of any description ! for
such things are not here. Gondolas take their
place.
I love dearly to skim about in the graceful gon-
92 n A L ' S T R A V E L S
.
dola. There is poetry about it, especially on a
moonlight night. Though I suspect the race of
gondoliers is degenerating. When Lord Byron
lived here they used to sing as they plied the oar,
and we read that he caught the inspiration, and
upon one occasion wrote as follows
:
"'Tis SYTcet to bear
At midnight, on the blue and moonlit deep,
The song and oar of Adria's gondolier.
By distance mellowed, o'er the waters sweep."
These gondoliers don't sing any more. I have
listened for one of their songs ever since my arrival
here;- but have heard "nary" song.
The Grand Canal is to Venice what Broadway is
t^ Xew/'Tork—the great thoroughfare. I have
spent fnuch time in gliding up and down this canal,
gazing at the great and gorgeous palaces, wonder-stricken,
with eyes stretched to a size little less than
tea-cups. And then the flashing eyes that beam
and sparkle from the palace windows, and the
graceful forms that lean from the balconies, set my
lieart all a-flutter. I imagine that Jessica, the fixir
Jewess, looked as they look, when watching for her
Lorenzo; (believe that's the name of the fellow who
stole old Shylock's daughter.)
And I have stood upon the Rialto, the splendid
arch that spans t^is Grand Canal. Hard b}' it is the
Exchange, (it is a market now for lishcs,) where
'Antonio and Shylock were wont in former times
to talk of trade and commerce, and where Antonio
spat upon the Jew's gabardine, and call©i|him
iiBiiMtim '
:^
\ I
I
I I
, , A
HAL'S TRAVELS. 95
"dog;" and it was there, or thereabout, the bond
was sealed for the pound of flesh. Some of the
Shylock family are said to be still found in the
neighborhood. The Rialto is a specimen of archi-tecture
never surpassed, either in ancient or in
modern times. l^Tumerous little shops for the sale
of bogus jewelry, cheap goods, and worthless
trinkets, are now upon this bridge.
St. Mark's Square is the centre of attraction in
Venice. It is an open space of several acres, paved
with marble slabs, and surrounded with buildings
of great magnificence. These houses are occupied
as splendid shops and brilliant cafes, with colonnades.
It is a place of general resort, and bands of music
often play in it. The elite of the city, and strangers
innumerable, may always be found in St. Mark's
Square. In front of the cafes, people of all nations
under the sun may be seen sipping their punch,
their wine, or their coiFee—playing cards, dominoes,
or chess.
On one side of this square stands St. Mark's
Cathedral, one of the most quaint as well as most
magnificent buildings in the world. It would fill
many pages to give any thing approaching a descrip-tion
of this ancient structure, so I shall not attempt
it. E"early the whole of the interior is mosaic of
the finest kind, representing many sacred scenes.
The four gilded bronze horses, stolen, I believe, by
the Venetians from Constantinople, stand above the
grand portal of this church. The Doge's palace, of
which structure everybody has read something, is
96 HAL'S TllAVELS.
connected with tliis cathedral. In architecture it is
a masterpiece, and very hirge. I luive wandered
through it, and looked at almost acres of paintings,
many of them by Titian, Tintoretto, and other old
masters. Titian was a Venetian. Was also con-ducted
through the gloomy prisons of this palace,
where many noble, wise, and good men have pined
their lives away. Also crossed the Bridge of Sighs,
leading from the palace prison to another prison
more gloomy still, and from which no prisoner ever
returned who entered it by way of this fatal bridge.
The prison is separated from the palace b}- a canal,
across which the Bridge of Sighs is suspended, some
twenty feet above the water.
A part of the Palazzo San Marco, or St. Mark's
Square, opens upon the ba}*, where two magnificent
granite columns stand, one of which is crowned
with a winged-lion, called St. Mark's lion ; (St! Mark
is the patron saint of Venice, and every thing im-portant
must be called after him.) The story of
these columns is this: They were pillaged from
some other city, (don't remember what city,) and
brought to Venice many centuries a'go, but so great
"was their size that no man could be found who
would undertake to elevate them upon their pedes-tals.
Alter they had lain for a great many years
upon the ground, a celebrated gambler of the city
proposed to the Doge that he would raise and place
them upon their pedestals, upon tlio condition ih-^t
lie and liis friends should ever after have the privi-lege
of gambling between them, without being in-
HAL'S TRAVELS. 97
terferecl wifh by the law. This was granted by the
Doge, although gambling was prohibited in all
other parts of Venice, and severely punished by the
law. The columns were elevated on this condition,
but in the course of time the space between them
became such a resort for gamblers and desperate
characters, that the civil authorities found it abso-lutely
necessary to do something to suppress the
scenes there enacted. They could only do it by
decreeing that all public executions should take
place on the same spot. This broke up the gam-bling.
We have now been in Venice four days, and have
visited a great many churches, palaces, asylums,
etc., and have looked at and admired paintings by
the acre, and statues innumerable.
It would not take me long to tire of Venice
;
every thing is so silent and monotonous. I want to
be where I can see hills and mountains, and look
upon running water. John is already satisfied with
Venice.
We came throu