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PREFACE.
PREFACE.
The book which follows, requires little or no introduction. It tells its own story, and tells it well. The interest in it, which induces the writer of this preface to be its usher to the public, is simply that of his having chanced to be among the first appreciators of the author's talent—an appreciation that has since been so more than justified, that the writer is proud to call the author of this book his friend, and bespeak attention to the peculiar energies he has displayed in travel and aut
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CHAPTER I. — THE VOYAGE.
CHAPTER I. — THE VOYAGE.
An enthusiastic desire of visiting the Old World haunted me from early childhood. I cherished a presentiment, amounting almost to belief, that I should one day behold the scenes, among which my fancy had so long wandered. The want of means was for a time a serious check to my anticipations; but I could not content myself to wait until I had slowly accumulated so large a sum as tourists usually spend on their travels. It seemed to me that a more humble method of seeing the world would place withi
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CHAPTER II. — A DAY IN IRELAND.
CHAPTER II. — A DAY IN IRELAND.
On calling at the steamboat office in Liverpool, to take passage to Port Rush, we found that the fare in the fore cabin was but two shillings and a half, while in the chief cabin it was six times as much. As I had started to make the tour of all Europe with a sum little higher than is sometimes given for the mere passage to and fro, there was no alternative—the twenty-four hours' discomfort could be more easily endured than the expense, and as I expected to encounter many hardships, it was best
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CHAPTER III. — BEN LOMOND AND THE HIGHLAND LAKES.
CHAPTER III. — BEN LOMOND AND THE HIGHLAND LAKES.
The steamboat Londonderry called the next day at Port Rush, and we left in her for Greenock. We ran down the Irish coast, past Dunluce Castle and the Causeway; the Giant's organ was very plainly visible, and the winds were strong enough to have sounded a storm-song upon it. Farther on we had a distant view of Carrick-a-Rede, a precipitous rock, separated by a yawning chasm from the shore, frequented by the catchers of sea-birds. A narrow swinging bridge, which is only passable in calm weather, c
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CHAPTER IV. — THE BURNS FESTIVAL.
CHAPTER IV. — THE BURNS FESTIVAL.
We passed a glorious summer morning on the banks of Loch Katrine. The air was pure, fresh and balmy, and the warm sunshine glowed upon forest and lake, upon dark crag and purple mountain-top. The lake was a scene in fairy-land. Returning over the rugged battle-plain in the jaws of the Trosachs, we passed the wild, lonely valley of Glenfinlas and Lanric Mead, at the head of Loch Vennachar, rounding the foot of Ben Ledi to Coilantogle Ford. We saw the desolate hills of Uam-var over which the stag
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CHAPTER V. — WALK FROM EDINBURG OVER THE BORDER AND ARRIVAL AT LONDON.
CHAPTER V. — WALK FROM EDINBURG OVER THE BORDER AND ARRIVAL AT LONDON.
We left Glasgow on the morning after returning from the Burns Festival, taking passage in the open cars for Edinburg, for six shillings. On leaving the depot, we plunged into the heart of the hill on which Glasgow Cathedral stands and were whisked through darkness and sulphury smoke to daylight again. The cars bore us past a spur of the Highlands, through a beautiful country where women were at work in the fields, to Linlithgow, the birth-place of Queen Mary. The majestic ruins of its once-proud
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CHAPTER VI. — SOME OF THE "SIGHTS" OF LONDON.
CHAPTER VI. — SOME OF THE "SIGHTS" OF LONDON.
In the course of time we came to anchor in the stream; skiffs from the shore pulled alongside, and after some little quarrelling, we were safely deposited in one, with a party who desired to be landed at the Tower Stairs. The dark walls frowned above us as we mounted from the water and passed into an open square on the outside of the moat. The laborers were about commencing work, the fashionable day having just closed, but there was still noise and bustle enough in the streets, particularly when
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CHAPTER VII. — FLIGHT THROUGH BELGIUM.
CHAPTER VII. — FLIGHT THROUGH BELGIUM.
Bruges. —On the Continent at last! How strangely look the century-old towers, antique monuments, and quaint, narrow streets of the Flemish cities! It is an agreeable and yet a painful sense of novelty to stand for the first time in the midst of a people whose language and manners are different from one's own. The old buildings around, linked with many a stirring association of past history, gratify the glowing anticipations with which one has looked forward to seeing them, and the fancy is busy
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CHAPTER VIII. — THE RHINE TO HEIDELBERG.
CHAPTER VIII. — THE RHINE TO HEIDELBERG.
HEIDELBERG, August 30. Here at last! and a most glorious place it is. This is our first morning in our new rooms, and the sun streams warmly in the eastern windows, as I write, while the old castle rises through the blue vapor on the side of the Kaiser-stuhl. The Neckar rushes on below; and the Odenwald, before, me, rejoices with its vineyards in the morning light. The bells of the old chapel near us are sounding most musically, and a confused sound of voices and the rolling of vehicles comes up
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CHAPTER IX. — SCENES IN AND AROUND HEIDELBERG.
CHAPTER IX. — SCENES IN AND AROUND HEIDELBERG.
Sept. 30. —There is so much to be seen around this beautiful place, that I scarcely know where to begin a description of it. I have been wandering among the wild paths that lead up and down the mountain side, or away into the forests and lonely meadows in the lap of the Odenwald. My mind is filled with images of the romantic German scenery, whose real beauty is beginning to displace the imaginary picture which I had painted with the enthusiastic words of Howitt. I seem to stand now upon the Kais
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CHAPTER X. — A WALK THROUGH THE ODENWALD.
CHAPTER X. — A WALK THROUGH THE ODENWALD.
B—— and I are now comfortably settled in Frankfort, having, with Mr. Willis's kind assistance, obtained lodgings with the amiable family, with whom he has resided for more than two years. My cousin remains in Heidelberg to attend the winter course of lectures at the University. Having forwarded our baggage by the omnibus, we came hither on foot, through the heart of the Odenwald, a region full of interest, yet little visited by travellers. Dr. S—— and his family walked with us three or four mile
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CHAPTER XI. — SCENES IN FRANKFORT—AN AMERICAN COMPOSER—THE POET FREILIGRATH.
CHAPTER XI. — SCENES IN FRANKFORT—AN AMERICAN COMPOSER—THE POET FREILIGRATH.
Dec. 4. —This is a genuine old German city. Founded by Charlemagne, afterwards a rallying point of the Crusaders, and for a long time the capital of the German empire, it has no lack of interesting historical recollections, and notwithstanding it is fast becoming modernized, one is every where reminded of the Past. The Cathedral, old as the days of Peter the Hermit, the grotesque street of the Jews, the many quaint, antiquated dwellings and the mouldering watch-towers on the hills around, give i
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CHAPTER XII. — A WEEK AMONG THE STUDENTS.
CHAPTER XII. — A WEEK AMONG THE STUDENTS.
Receiving a letter from my cousin one bright December morning, the idea of visiting him struck me, and so, within an hour, B—— and I were on our way to Heidelberg. It was delightful weather; the air was mild as the early days of spring, the pine forests around wore a softer green, and though the sun was but a hand's breadth high, even at noon, it was quite warm on the open road. We stopped for the night at Bensheim; the next morning was as dark as a cloudy day in the north can be, wearing a heav
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CHAPTER XIII. — CHRISTMAS AND NEW YEAR IN GERMANY.
CHAPTER XIII. — CHRISTMAS AND NEW YEAR IN GERMANY.
Jan. 2, 1845. —I have lately been computing how much my travels have cost me up to the present time, and how long I can remain abroad to continue the pilgrimage, with my present expectations. The result has been most encouraging to my plan. Before leaving home, I wrote to several gentlemen who had visited Europe, requesting the probable expense of travel and residence abroad. They sent different accounts; E. Joy Morris said I must calculate to spend at least $1500 a year; another suggested $1000
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CHAPTER XIV. — WINTER IN FRANKFORT—A FAIR, AN INUNDATION AND A FIRE.
CHAPTER XIV. — WINTER IN FRANKFORT—A FAIR, AN INUNDATION AND A FIRE.
After New Year, the Main, just above the city, and the lakes in the promenades, were frozen over. The ice was tried by the police, and having been found of sufficient thickness, to the great joy of the schoolboys, permission was given to skate. The lakes were soon covered with merry skaters, and every afternoon the banks were crowded with spectators. It was a lively sight to see two or three hundred persons darting about, turning and crossing like a flock of crows, while, by means of arm-chairs
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CHAPTER XV. — THE DEAD AND THE DEAF—MENDELSSOHN THE COMPOSER.
CHAPTER XV. — THE DEAD AND THE DEAF—MENDELSSOHN THE COMPOSER.
It is now a luxury to breathe. These spring days are the perfection of delightful weather. Imagine the delicious temperature of our Indian summer joined to the life and freshness of spring, add to this a sky of the purest azure, and a breeze filled with the odor of violets,—the most exquisite of all perfumes—and you have some idea of it. The meadows are beginning to bloom, and I have already heard the larks singing high up in the sky. Those sacred birds, the storks, have returned and taken posse
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CHAPTER XVI. — JOURNEY ON FOOT FROM FRANKFORT TO CASSEL.
CHAPTER XVI. — JOURNEY ON FOOT FROM FRANKFORT TO CASSEL.
The day for leaving Frankfort came at last, and I bade adieu to the gloomy, antique, but still quaint and pleasant city. I felt like leaving a second home, so much had the memories of many delightful hours spent there attached me to it: I shall long retain the recollection of its dark old streets, its massive, devil-haunted bridge and the ponderous cathedral, telling of the times of the Crusaders. I toiled up the long hill on the road to Friedberg, and from the tower at the top took a last look
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CHAPTER XVII. — ADVENTURES AMONG THE HARTZ.
CHAPTER XVII. — ADVENTURES AMONG THE HARTZ.
On taking leave of Carl at the gate over the Göttingen road, I felt tempted to bestow a malediction upon traveling, from its merciless breaking of all links, as soon as formed. It was painful to think we should meet no more. The tears started into his eyes, and feeling a mist gathering over mine, I gave his hand a parting pressure, turned my back upon Cassel and started up the long mountain, at a desperate rate. On the summit I passed out of Hesse into Hanover, and began to descend the remaining
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CHAPTER XVIII. — NOTES IN LEIPSIC AND DRESDEN.
CHAPTER XVIII. — NOTES IN LEIPSIC AND DRESDEN.
Leipsic, May 8. —I have now been nearly two days in this wide-famed city, and the more I see of it the better I like it. It is a pleasant, friendly town, old enough to be interesting, and new enough to be comfortable. There in much active business life, through which it is fast increasing in size and beauty. Its publishing establishments are the largest in the world, and its annual fairs attended by people from all parts of Europe. This is much for a city to accomplish, situated alone in the mid
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CHAPTER XIX. — RAMBLES IN THE SAXON SWITZERLAND.
CHAPTER XIX. — RAMBLES IN THE SAXON SWITZERLAND.
After four days' sojourn in Dresden we shouldered our knapsacks, not to be laid down again till we reached Prague. We were elated with the prospect of getting among the hills again, and we heeded not the frequent showers which had dampened the enjoyment of the Pentecost holidays, to the good citizens of Dresden, and might spoil our own. So we trudged gaily along the road to Pillnitz and waved an adieu to the domes behind us as the forest shut them out from view. After two hours' walk the road le
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CHAPTER XX. — SCENES IN PRAGUE.
CHAPTER XX. — SCENES IN PRAGUE.
Prague. —I feel as if out of the world, in this strange, fantastic, yet beautiful old city. We have been rambling all morning through its winding streets, stopping sometimes at a church to see the dusty tombs and shrines, or to hear the fine music which accompanies the morning mass. I have seen no city yet that so forcibly reminds one of the past, and makes him forget everything but the associations connected with the scenes around him. The language adds to the illusion. Three-fourths of the peo
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CHAPTER XXI. — JOURNEY THROUGH EASTERN BOHEMIA AND MORAVIA TO THE DANUBE.
CHAPTER XXI. — JOURNEY THROUGH EASTERN BOHEMIA AND MORAVIA TO THE DANUBE.
Our road the first two days after leaving Prague led across broad, elevated plains, across which a cold wind came direct from the summits of the Riesengebirge, far to our left. Were it not for the pleasant view we had of the rich valley of the Upper Elbe, which afforded a delightful relief to the monotony of the hills around us, the journey would have been exceedingly tiresome. The snow still glistened on the distant mountains; but when the sun shone out, the broad valley below, clad in the luxu
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CHAPTER XXII. — VIENNA.
CHAPTER XXII. — VIENNA.
May 31. —I have at last seen the thousand wonders of this great capital—this German Paris—this connecting link between the civilization of Europe and the barbaric magnificence of the East. It looks familiar to be in a city again, whose streets are thronged with people, and resound with the din and bustle of business. It reminds me of the never-ending crowds of London, or the life and tumult of our scarcely less active New York. Although the end may be sordid for which so many are laboring, yet t
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CHAPTER XXIII. — UP THE DANUBE.
CHAPTER XXIII. — UP THE DANUBE.
We passed out of Vienna in the face of one of the strongest winds it was ever my lot to encounter. It swept across the plain with such force that it was almost impossible to advance till we got under the lee of a range of hills. About two miles from the barrier we passed Schoenbrunn, the Austrian Versailles. It was built by the Empress Maria Theresa, and was the residence of Napoleon in 1809, when Vienna was in the hands of the French. Later, in 1832, the Duke of Reichstadt died in the same room
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CHAPTER XXV. — THE AUSTRIAN ALPS.
CHAPTER XXV. — THE AUSTRIAN ALPS.
It was nearly dark when we came to the end of the plain and looked on the city at our feet and the lovely lake that lost itself in the mountains before us. We were early on board the steamboat next morning, with a cloudless sky above us and a snow-crested Alp beckoning on from the end of the lake. The water was of the most beautiful green hue, the morning light colored the peaks around with purple, and a misty veil rolled up the rocks of the Traunstein. We stood on the prow and enjoyed to the fu
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CHAPTER XXVI. — MUNICH.
CHAPTER XXVI. — MUNICH.
June 14. —I thought I had seen every thing in Vienna that could excite admiration or gratify fancy; here I have my former sensations to live over again, in an augmented degree. It is well I was at first somewhat prepared by our previous travel, otherwise the glare and splendor of wealth and art in this German Athens might blind me to the beauties of the cities we shall yet visit. I have been walking in a dream where the fairy tales of boyhood were realized, and the golden and jeweled halls of th
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CHAPTER XXVII. — THROUGH WURTEMBERG TO HEIDELBERG.
CHAPTER XXVII. — THROUGH WURTEMBERG TO HEIDELBERG.
We left Munich in the morning train for Augsburg. Between the two cities extends a vast unbroken plain, exceedingly barren and monotonous. Here and there is a little scrubby woodland, and sometimes we passed over a muddy stream which came down from the Alps. The land is not more than half-cultivated, and the villages are small and poor. We saw many of the peasants at their stations, in their gay Sunday dresses; the women wore short gowns with laced boddices, of gay colors, and little caps on the
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CHAPTER XXVIII. — FREIBURG AND THE BLACK FOREST.
CHAPTER XXVIII. — FREIBURG AND THE BLACK FOREST.
Frankfort, July 29, 1845. —It would be ingratitude towards the old city in which I have passed so many pleasant and profitable hours, to leave it, perhaps forever, without a few words of farewell. How often will the old bridge, with its view up the Main, over the houses of Oberrad to the far mountains of the Odenwald, rise freshly and distinctly in memory, when I shall have been long absent from them! How often will I hear in fancy as I now do in reality, the heavy tread of passers-by on the rou
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CHAPTER XXIX. — PEOPLE AND PLACES IN EASTERN SWITZERLAND.
CHAPTER XXIX. — PEOPLE AND PLACES IN EASTERN SWITZERLAND.
We left Schaffhausen for Zurich, in mist and rain, and walked for some time along the north bank of the Rhine. We could have enjoyed the scenery much better, had it not been for the rain, which not only hid the mountains from sight, but kept us constantly half soaked. We crossed the rapid Rhine at Eglisau, a curious antique village, and then continued our way through the forests of Canton Zurich, to Bülach, with its groves of lindens—"those tall and stately trees, with velvet down upon their shi
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CHAPTER XXX. — PASSAGE OF THE ST. GOTHARD AND DESCENT INTO ITALY.
CHAPTER XXX. — PASSAGE OF THE ST. GOTHARD AND DESCENT INTO ITALY.
Leaving Amstegg, I passed the whole day among snowy, sky-piercing Alps, torrents, chasms and clouds! The clouds appeared to be breaking up as we set out, and the white top of the Reassberg was now and then visible in the sky. Just above the village are the remains of Zwing Uri, the castle begun by the tyrant Gessler, for the complete subjugation of the canton. Following the Reuss up through a narrow valley, we passed the Bristenstock, which lifts its jagged crags nine thousand feet in the air, w
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CHAPTER XXXI. — MILAN.
CHAPTER XXXI. — MILAN.
Aug. 21. —While finding our way at random to the "Pension Suisse," whither we had been directed by a German gentleman, we were agreeably impressed with the gaiety and bustle of Milan. The shops and stores are all open to the street, so that the city resembles a great bazaar. It has an odd look to see blacksmiths, tailors and shoemakers working unconcernedly in the open air, with crowds continually passing before them. The streets are filled with venders of fruit, who call out the names with a lo
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CHAPTER XXXII. — WALK FROM MILAN TO GENOA.
CHAPTER XXXII. — WALK FROM MILAN TO GENOA.
It was finally decided we should leave Milan, so the next morning we arose at five o'clock for the first time since leaving Frankfort. The Italians had commenced operations at this early hour, but we made our way through the streets without attracting quite so much attention as on our arrival. Near the gate on the road to Pavia, we passed a long colonnade which was certainly as old as the times of the Romans. The pillars of marble were quite brown with age, and bound together with iron to keep t
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CHAPTER XXXIII. — SCENES IN GENOA, LEGHORN AND PISA.
CHAPTER XXXIII. — SCENES IN GENOA, LEGHORN AND PISA.
Have you ever seen some grand painting of a city, rising with its domes and towers and palaces from the edge of a glorious bay, shut in by mountains—the whole scene clad in those deep, delicious, sunny hues which you admire so much in the picture, although they appear unrealized in Nature? If so, you can figure to yourself Genoa, as she looked to us at sunset, from the battlements west of the city. When we had passed through the gloomy gate of the fortress that guards the western promontory, the
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CHAPTER XXXIV. — FLORENCE AND ITS GALLERIES.
CHAPTER XXXIV. — FLORENCE AND ITS GALLERIES.
Sept. 11. —Our situation here is as agreeable as we could well desire. We have three large and handsomely furnished rooms, in the centre of the city, for which we pay Signor Lazzeri, a wealthy goldsmith, ten scudo per month—a scudo being a trifle more than an American dollar. We live at the Cafès and Trattone very conveniently for twenty-five cents a day, enjoying moreover, at our dinner in the Trattoria del Cacciatore, the company of several American artists with whom we have become acquainted.
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CHAPTER XXXV. — A PILGRIMAGE TO VALLOMBROSA.
CHAPTER XXXV. — A PILGRIMAGE TO VALLOMBROSA.
A pilgrimage to Vallombrosa!—in sooth it has a romantic sound. The phrase calls up images of rosaries, and crosses, and shaven-headed friars. Had we lived in the olden days, such things might verily have accompanied our journey to that holy monastery. We might then have gone barefoot, saying prayers as we toiled along the banks of the Arno and up the steep Appenines, as did Benevenuto Cellini, before he poured the melted bronze into the mould of his immortal Perseus. But we are pilgrims to the s
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CHAPTER XXXVI. — WALK TO SIENA AND PRATOLINO—INCIDENTS IN FLORENCE.
CHAPTER XXXVI. — WALK TO SIENA AND PRATOLINO—INCIDENTS IN FLORENCE.
October 16. —My cousin, being anxious to visit Rome, and reach Heidelberg before the commencement of the winter semestre, set out towards the end of September, on foot. We accompanied him as far as Siena, forty miles distant. As I shall most probably take another road to the Eternal City, the present is a good opportunity to say something of that romantic old town, so famous throughout Italy for the honesty of its inhabitants. We dined the first day, seventeen miles from Florence, at Tavenella,
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CHAPTER XXXVII. — AMERICAN ART IN FLORENCE.
CHAPTER XXXVII. — AMERICAN ART IN FLORENCE.
I have seen Ibrahim Pacha, the son of old Mehemet Ali, driving in his carriage through the streets. He is hero on a visit from Lucca, where he has been spending some time on account of his health. He is a man of apparently fifty years of age; his countenance wears a stern and almost savage look, very consistent with the character he bears and the political part he has played. He is rather portly in person, the pale olive of his complexion contrasting strongly with a beard perfectly white. In com
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CHAPTER XXXVIII. — AN ADVENTURE ON THE GREAT ST. BERNARD—WALKS AROUND FLORENCE.
CHAPTER XXXVIII. — AN ADVENTURE ON THE GREAT ST. BERNARD—WALKS AROUND FLORENCE.
Nov. 9. —A few days ago I received a letter from my cousin at Heidelberg, describing his solitary walk from Genoa over the Alps, and through the western part of Switzerland. The news of his safe arrival dissipated the anxiety we were beginning to feel, on account of his long silence, while it proved that our fears concerning the danger of such a journey were not altogether groundless. He met with a startling adventure on the Great St. Bernard, which will be best described by an extract from his
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CHAPTER XXXIX. — WINTER TRAVELING AMONG THE APPENINES.
CHAPTER XXXIX. — WINTER TRAVELING AMONG THE APPENINES.
Valley of the Arno, Dec 22. —It is a glorious morning after our two days' walk, through rain and mud, among these stormy Appenines. The range of high peaks, among which is the celebrated monastery of Camaldoli, lie just before us, their summits dazzling with the new fallen snow. The clouds are breaking away, and a few rosy flushes announce the approach of the sun. It has rained during the night, and the fields are as green and fresh as on a morning in spring. We left Florence on the 20th, while
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CHAPTER XL.
CHAPTER XL.
Dec. 29. —One day's walk through Rome—how shall I describe it? The Capitol, the Forum, St. Peter's, the Coliseum—what few hours' ramble ever took in places so hallowed by poetry, history and art? It was a golden leaf in my calendar of life. In thinking over it now, and drawing out the threads of recollection from the varied woof of thought I have woven to-day, I almost wonder how I dared so much at once; but within reach of them all, how was it possible to wait? Let me give a sketch of our day's
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CHAPTER XLI. — TIVOLI AND THE ROMAN CAMPAGNA.
CHAPTER XLI. — TIVOLI AND THE ROMAN CAMPAGNA.
Jan. 9. —A few days ago we returned from an excursion to Tivoli, one of the loveliest spots in Italy. We left the Eternal City by the Gate of San Lorenzo, and twenty minutes walk brought us to the bare and bleak Campagna, which was spread around us for leagues in every direction. Here and there a shepherd-boy in his woolly coat, with his flock of browsing sheep, were the only objects that broke its desert-like monotony. At the fourth mile we crossed the rapid Anio, the ancient Teverone, formerly
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CHAPTER XLII. —
CHAPTER XLII. —
Palo. —The sea is breaking in long swells below the window, and a glorious planet shines in the place of the sunset that has died away. This is our first resting-place since leaving Rome. We have been walking all day over the bare and dreary Campagna, and it is a relief to look at last on the broad, blue expanse of the Tyrrhene Sea. When we emerged from the cool alleys of Rome, and began to climb up and down the long, barren swells, the sun beat down on us with an almost summer heat. On crossing
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CHAPTER XLIII. — PILGRIMAGE TO VAUCLUSE AND JOURNEY UP THE RHONE.
CHAPTER XLIII. — PILGRIMAGE TO VAUCLUSE AND JOURNEY UP THE RHONE.
We left Marseilles about nine o'clock, on a dull, rainy morning, for Avignon and the Rhone, intending to take in our way the glen of Vaucluse. The dirty faubourgs stretch out along the road for a great distance, and we trudged through them, past foundries, furnaces and manufactories, considerably disheartened with the prospect. We wound among the bleak stony hills, continually ascending, for nearly three hours. Great numbers of cabarets, frequented by the common people, lined the roads, and we m
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CHAPTER XLIV. — TRAVELING IN BURGUNDY—THE MISERIES OF A COUNTRY DILIGENCE.
CHAPTER XLIV. — TRAVELING IN BURGUNDY—THE MISERIES OF A COUNTRY DILIGENCE.
Paris, Feb. 6, 1840. —Every letter of the date is traced with an emotion of joy, for our dreary journey is over. There was a magic in the name that revived us during a long journey, and now the thought that it is all over—that these walls which enclose us, stand in the heart of the gay city—seems almost too joyful to be true. Yesterday I marked with the whitest chalk, on the blackest of all tablets to make the contrast greater, for I got out of the cramped diligence at the Barrière de Charenton,
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CHAPTER XLV. — POETICAL SCENES IN PARIS.
CHAPTER XLV. — POETICAL SCENES IN PARIS.
What a gay little world in miniature this is! I wonder not that the French, with their exuberant gaiety of spirit, should revel in its ceaseless tides of pleasure, as if it were an earthly Elysium. I feel already the influence of its cheerful atmosphere, and have rarely threaded the crowds of a stranger city, with so light a heart as I do now daily, on the thronged banks of the Seine. And yet it would be difficult to describe wherein consists this agreeable peculiarity. You can find streets as d
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CHAPTER XLVI. — A GLIMPSE OF NORMANDY.
CHAPTER XLVI. — A GLIMPSE OF NORMANDY.
After a residence of five weeks, which, in spite of some few troubles, passed away quickly and delightfully, I turned my back on Paris. It was not regret I experienced on taking my seat in the cars for Versailles, but that feeling of reluctance with which we leave places whose brightness and gaiety force the mind away from serious toil. Steam, however, cuts short all sentiment, and in much less time than it takes to bid farewell to a German, we had whizzed past the Place d'Europe, through the ba
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CHAPTER XLVII. — LOCKHART, BERNARD BARTON AND CROLY—LONDON CHIMES AND GREENWICH FAIR.
CHAPTER XLVII. — LOCKHART, BERNARD BARTON AND CROLY—LONDON CHIMES AND GREENWICH FAIR.
My circumstances, on arriving at London, were again very reduced. A franc and a half constituted the whole of my funds. This, joined to the knowledge of London expenses, rendered instant exertion necessary, to prevent still greater embarrassment. I called on a printer the next morning, hoping to procure work, but found, as I had no documents with me to show I had served a regular apprenticeship, this would be extremely difficult, although workmen were in great demand. Mr. Putnam, however, on who
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CHAPTER XLVIII. — HOMEWARD BOUND——CONCLUSION.
CHAPTER XLVIII. — HOMEWARD BOUND——CONCLUSION.
We slid out of St. Katharine's Dock at noon on the appointed day, and with a pair of sooty steamboats hitched to our vessel, moved slowly down the Thames in mist and drizzling rain. I stayed on the wet deck all afternoon, that I might more forcibly and joyously feel we were again in motion on the waters and homeward bound! My attention was divided between the dreary views of Blackwall, Greenwich and Woolwich, and the motley throng of passengers who were to form our ocean society. An English fami
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