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AMERICAN COMMISSIONER-GENERAL. 
 
 PARTS EXPOSITION OF 1S7S. 
 
 * 
 
IN ’78 
 
 THE PARIS EXPOSITION OF 1878, 
 
 ITS 
 
 Side-Shows and Excursions; 
 
 INCLUDING 
 
 TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE 
 
 IN 
 
 BELGIUM, GERMANY, ON THE RHINE, ACROSS TEE SWISS 
 ALPS, IN ITALY AND THE TYROL. 
 
 By HENRY MORFORD, 
 
 .SnO.tor nl JN Yu." “ OVEft Rea,'' “ < i r ) I m ; To J’a.ms.'’ (1878), .v.\ 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 GEO. \V. CARLETON & CO., Madison Square ; and 
 MORFORD’S TRAVEL-PUBLICATION OFFICE, 52 Broadway. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEA RLE A RIVINGTON. 
 
 1379 . 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1879, 
 
 By Henry Morford, 
 
 in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 
 
 Trocadero Palace and Park, 
 
 Paris Exposition of 1878. 
 
 From Scribner's Monthly. 
 
'EOtfie MiL-n-Aiat" 
 
 (BARRACKS) 
 
 From Scribner 1 s Monthly. 
 
RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED 
 
 TO 
 
 Gov. Richard C. McCormick, 
 
 Paris 
 
 Exposition 
 
 Universal 
 
 OF 187 6. 
 
 IN RECOGNITION OF HIS 
 
 Eminent Services, in that Position, 
 
 TO 
 
 American Art, American Invention, 
 
 HONOR OF AMERICA, GENERA ELY. 
 
Paris Exposition of 1878. 
 
 (From Scribner's Monthly.) 
 
 ‘aovrvd nivm 'awoa hsnxod is3M 
 
Paris Exposition of 1878. 
 
 (From Scribner’s Monthly.) 
 
 TANIA HIH0N ‘30VTO ORadVOORl 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 It is almost needless to say that the success of a previous volume of the 
 same character—“Paris in ’67,” issued by the same publishers, and giving 
 an account of the Paris Exposition of that year, with travels in various parts 
 of Europe made convenient by it—was the principal incitement to the repe¬ 
 tition of the experiment, in the publication of “Paris and Half-Europe in 
 •78.” Originally, it was intended to publish during the last winter ; but 
 various causes, principal among which may be named the impossibility of 
 earlier completing some of the most interesting papers, including travels in 
 Belgium, Germany, on the Rhine, across the Swiss Alps, in Italy and the 
 Tyrol, have delayed the issue until the present month. It is believed, how¬ 
 ever, that the publication will not be the less welcome, coming fresh at a 
 season when the book will be found an invaluable travel-companion in the 
 countries named, as well as in that “Paris ’ of which it treats at length. 
 Meanwhile, the fact now evident, that no other work, of a popular character, 
 describing the Exposition of 1878, and giving the “Excursions” incited by 
 it, will be issued from the American press, must both make it welcome to the 
 general reader and give it a permanent value. Attention should be called 
 to the incidental circumstance, that when the first portions of the book were 
 put in type, Bayard Taylor, then our Minister to Germany, and to whom 
 allusion was made at length in the “Opening,” was still alive and so 
 written of ; and it has been thought better to explain the incongruity by a 
 note, than to change the expressions then appropriate and now so painfully 
 interesting. 
 
 New York, July, 1879 . 
 

 
 
 
 
PARIS AND HALF-EUROPE IN 78 . 
 
 X. 
 
 THE CHANGES OF ELEVEN YEARS. 
 
 Eleven years ago, at Interlaken, then and there named “ the 
 heart of the Bernese Oberland,” were written the first words 
 of the description of the Paris Exposition of that year, and 
 the romantic excursions over a part of the Continent made 
 possible from it—“ Paris in ’67.” At the end of that space, 
 assuming the pen for a similar labor with reference to the Ex¬ 
 position of 1878, what changes come immediately into 
 thought!—what spectres from a past even no farther removed, 
 start into view and bid all other speculations pause until they 
 shall have been considered ! 
 
 Changes indeed !—not only in the personnel surrounding the 
 writer as he proceeds, but in the world in which he yet has 
 the privilege of moving, feeling and remembering, while so 
 many others have ceased from all those privileges, in the state 
 which we dimly know as Life ! 
 
 1867. At the height of his glory, then, in the presumed per¬ 
 manency of his imperial power and the consciousness that 
 around him, as around Solomon of old when the monarchs of 
 all the East came to witness his greatness, moved the rulers 
 and notables of a world,—was Napoleon III., Emperor of the 
 French, and exponent of the Idees Napoleonennes which had 
 their origin with his mighty uncle and the virtual founder 
 of his race. A man of past middle age, though bearing 
 his years bravely ; with the heavy brows, furtive eyes and 
 prominent nose of his semi-Italian race, mellowed not a 
 little by time, and the heavy gray of hair and mustache 
 tending naturally to the advantage of his appearance, how¬ 
 ever they might declare the advance of years. A sombre, 
 
6 
 
 PARIS IN ’ 78 . 
 
 silent man, as ever ; but a successful one, and in that success, 
 with an air of ease to which his earlier years had necessarily 
 been strangers, and a hold on the mind of the world to which 
 that world would have been slow to confess at five years 
 earlier in his career. Only three years removed from the 
 Franco-German war and Sedan; and yet with no shadow of 
 his coming fate thrown over the brilliancy of his position or 
 the pride of the land which he had certainly conducted to a 
 glory eclipsing that of its most successful past—who could 
 avoid, catching glimpses of him during that wonderful sum¬ 
 mer, as he walked habitually and unattended in the midst of 
 the blended crowds of his people and the visitors from other 
 lands, saying below the breath: “This man is the Man of 
 Destiny, all said and done : and let no one, henceforward, doubt 
 that due persistence in the attainment of any aim, is sure to 
 bring success at the end.” “ The end ! ”—ah, that was not yet; 
 but our blinded eyes could not see it; and so the proudest 
 monarch upon earth moved before our view, in the richest 
 capital of that earth, and so surrounded with sovereigns for 
 the time tributary to his position, that he seemed to have 
 culminated to the utmost possible in the culminating years of 
 the world. 
 
 Beside the Emperor, as at times he appeared in carriage or 
 at the great State festivals, Eugenie, born Countess de Montijo, 
 and raised, after many vicissitudes and not a few dangerous 
 passages in life, to be Empress of the French and the suc¬ 
 cessor of Josephine. A tall, stately, handsome woman, then 
 only beginning to fade a trifle, and with her oval face and 
 golden blonde hair so familiar to the world in the pictures of 
 Winterhalter (the best of them that under the broad chapeau 
 paille), that not even an attempt at description is necessary. 
 Popular with the French people from her admitted goodness 
 of personal life and her understood religious sentiments, and 
 yet always a trifle feared and disliked from the belief that she 
 was instrumental in bending the actions of the Empire too 
 much toward the interests of the Papacy. The first female 
 reigning-consort then upon earth, beyond a question, the place 
 
CHANGES OF ELEVEN YEARS. 
 
 7 
 
 of her husband and her personal popularity both being taken 
 into the account; not hardened yet, as was he, by those awful 
 griefs and those grim necessities lying only three years in 
 the future and to have their long sequence at Chiselhurst. 
 
 There was a third in this combination—a third, in whose 
 destinies those of both the others promised to combine in the 
 coming years. The Prince Imperial of France, a handsome, 
 mannerly lad of eleven, with much more of the mother than 
 the father in his face, and but little promise of strength to 
 meet any of the rougher vicissitudes of the future—as some 
 of us saw the little fellow more than once, alighting in the 
 courtyard of the Grand Hotel, or similarly elsewhere, with 
 officers of the imperial household in attendance, to visit those 
 older than himself who happened there to be domiciled, with 
 claims upon his boyish courtesy. At that time, creating the 
 indefinable impression that he was a little dazed by the brill¬ 
 iant sunlight of imperial position, and that he might have 
 been happier in the company of humbler companions, with 
 bat and ball, or a pony to ride, in a very different and distant 
 scene. Here, too, the shadow of the future had not yet fallen, 
 even if the boyish mind had been capable of realizi ng it. 
 Disinherited, exiled, orphaned of a father—all these were yet 
 to be. So was the study in an English military college, with 
 the gradual coming back to the knowledge of the world, 
 through the friendship of the British Court and the efforts of 
 those who did not intend that the French Empire should die 
 with Napoleon III. So was that yet indefinite future (who 
 can read it?) in which he may fail altogether and for all his 
 life ; or merely lie in temporary eclipse of long years, like his 
 strange father ; or carry out the rumors of this year, marry the 
 daughter of the King of Denmark, sister of the King of that 
 country yet to be, of the future Empress of Russia and the 
 future Queen of England, and thus and with the will of the 
 powerful Bonapartist section of France, come to be Napoleon 
 IV., and to revenge Sedan as his sire long revenged Waterloo. 
 
 So much for the ruler of the French and his personal sur¬ 
 roundings. Of the nation, Alsace and Lorraine a part of the 
 
 Alas! [July > 1879.] 
 
PARIS IN ’ 78 . 
 
 8 
 
 Empire, and the grand old Cathedral of Strasbourg looking 
 over fortifications manned by Frenchmen and threatening the 
 Germans on the other side of the Rhine ; prosperity appar¬ 
 ently real and exceptional, with no shadow of the territorial 
 loss so soon to come, the humiliations in arms, the occupation 
 of her cities by a cruel foe who remembered Waterloo, the 
 Commune and the Republic, the payment of a fine that would 
 have crushed any other nation of the world into bankruptcy, 
 the rapid and wondrous rising from humiliation to a pros¬ 
 perity scarcely paralleled even in the past. 
 
 Germany as during any year since her arising from the 
 reverses of 1806-1809. King William of Prussia growing old, 
 with the wonderful memories of his youth as yet uneclipsed 
 by the greater realities of 1871 ; the Crown Prince, husband 
 of the eldest Princess of England, but with his fame in arms 
 entirely second to that of the Red Prince; Von Moltke only 
 revolving behind his thin old brow the strategy by-and-by to 
 make him terribly immortal ; Bismarck—Count Bismarck, of 
 Prussia—planning the future, no doubt, even in the midst of 
 the Paris festivities where he showed his unamiable face with 
 a reminder in it of Ben Butler, but far enough away from 
 being Prince Bismarck, receiver of President Grant and 
 Chancellor of the great German Empire. Hanover a kingdom, 
 with English George still on its insignificant and unstable 
 ihrone ; Baden-Baden a magnificent gambling hell, with the 
 Grand Duke, at his royal father-in-law's behest, only prepar¬ 
 ing to give up the revenues of that splendid ruin ; the Ger¬ 
 mans of the upper Rhineland looking over from Kiel to 
 Strasbourg and wondering when ?—when ?—when ? 
 
 Russia—the Czar in Paris, resting yet from the exhaustion 
 of the Crimea, and slowly getting ready for the very differ¬ 
 ent campaign against the Turk, with France and England no 
 longer opposing—of 1S77—’78. England not yet done vilifying 
 the Prince of Wales, whom she was at an early day to respect 
 if never to fully understand ; as yet without an Empress of 
 India; and Benjamin Disraeli with all the ambition of his 
 race beating under his bald brow, but feeling no flutter of the 
 
CHANGES OF ELEVEN YEARS. 
 
 9 
 
 leaves from the coronet of the Earl of Beaconsfield and the 
 broad ribbon of the Knight of the Garter. Italy with the 
 Re Galantuomo still blending the Patriot King and the arden-t 
 hunter, but her unity still afar off and the foot of the Austrian 
 polluting too many acres of her truly sacred soil. Spain, with 
 the wayward Queen yet her ruler, the thunders still unheard 
 that were so soon to make her a republic and yet again a 
 kingdom, with the son of that Queen her King and in 1878 
 one of the saddest and truest mourners on the globe. Turkey 
 cowering, as ever of late, for the blow of her dissolution ; but 
 her Sultan, foremost among the notabilities of Paris, with no 
 prescience of the near day which should cost him at once 
 crown and life. Mexico (during the early months of that 
 year, at least), with Austrian Maximilian holding her throne, 
 and the mongrel Republic only coming—coming. The United 
 States of America, with misunderstood and unappreciated 
 Andrew Johnson in the Presidential chair, and Grant only 
 looming in the distance like an unshapen shadow. 
 
 Enough of these glimpses of what the world was in 1867. 
 So much said, who cannot contrast that time with the present, 
 and measure the changes brought by eleven fleeting years ? 
 Alas, as already said, those changes have not been alone in 
 the rule or the destinies of nations ; they have come to our 
 households and reversed our most cherished associations. 
 
 .Who were those who, in that late summer of 1867, sat on 
 the balcony of the Hotel Victoria at Interlaken, looking out 
 over the valley to where the Jungfrau heaved up her great 
 bulk like a gigantic white spectre in the cloudless moonlight— 
 what time the Governor, haunted by the knowledge of the 
 task that lay before him, sat in his little room above them and 
 penned those first words which have already been once be¬ 
 fore referred to ? And where are now the members of that 
 association so hallowed by many weeks of united interest and 
 close companionship? 
 
 It goes without saying, that the Governor, who wrote then, 
 lingers still. Changed!—ay, who has not changed in eleven 
 years? Even the picture taken of him, not many days later, 
 
10 
 
 PARIS IN ’ 78 . 
 
 at Lucerne, with the pallor on his face of a fearful injury 
 stupidly encountered in one of his mad ascents of a mountain 
 rivalling Pilatus—even that picture, melancholy enough for 
 1867, would be a flattering and welcome one if given as a re¬ 
 flection in 1S7S. The Governor, truth to say, is growing old. 
 Why should he not be so, when time and change have swept 
 away all the companions of that day ? 
 
 The Captain—dear old comrade ol so many a wandering 
 sacred in memory, and best link of the life that had come to 
 be with the life that had been—the Captain, half of the eleven 
 years elapsed, ceased from his journeys upon earth and went 
 home to the rest of the good and the true. His body sleeps 
 amid friends and kindred, but a little distance from the beau¬ 
 tiful home to which, all that summer, he looked back so long¬ 
 ingly when night and weariness came together. We know, 
 thinking of him, that he realizes the sadly-sweet words of a 
 fugitive poet, and dwells amid even higher and clearer moun¬ 
 tains than the great Swiss Alps—that 
 
 “ He walks a better land than this, 
 
 By mortal feet untrod ; 
 
 And he is summering, high in bliss, 
 
 Upon the hills of God.” 
 
 For the rest, Death has made no mark ; but Change, a power 
 only less deadly, has produced an effect quite as material to 
 him who writes. Young Hawesby, who through that notable 
 summer supplied the foil to the ageing gravity of the Captain, 
 in his frank boyishness and noble promise for the future, and 
 who so calmly flirted with Lady Eleanor on all possible 
 occasions,—young Hawesby has taken his place years since 
 in the society and—who knows?—possibly the dissipation 
 of his great native cities, and forgotten, mayhap under less 
 beneficial influences, that ever a Lady Eleanor existed. Lady 
 Eleanor and the Gypsy Oueen, cheerful and valued companions 
 of that wondrous tour, have withdrawn themselves into the 
 seclusion (so far as the Govenor is concerned) of their condi¬ 
 tion of reserved English gentlewomen, and even the post 
 knows nothing, now, of any lines of communication. And 
 
CHANGES OF ELEVEN YEARS. 
 
 11 
 
 Anna Maria, last though not least of the group—Anna Maria 
 has grown richer though scarcely older, become more than 
 half a Frenchwoman, runs over the Continent nearly every 
 season, without the aid of a guide or a courier, and when the 
 Governor met her for a moment under the arches of Notre 
 Dame, in the summer of 1876, seemed lifted altogether into a 
 lighter and gayer atmosphere than that of the old days, and 
 to have little memory of her first experience of European 
 gypsying. 
 
 Ah, well !—Tennyson said, long ago, in the saddest and most 
 melodious of words from human lips : 
 
 “The old order changeth, giving place to new, 
 
 And Time fulfils himself in many ways.” 
 
 So let us accept the change, and merely remembering as an 
 episode the vanished Old, deal with the events and omens of 
 the New. 
 
 VIENNA MEDAL OF 1873. 
 
IX. 
 
 OMENS OF THE FRENCEI EXPOSITION OF 1878. 
 
 It is of no secondary consequence, at this stage, to consider 
 the omens of the Paris Exposition of 1S78, before proceeding 
 to trace rapidly its history, with only incidental glimpses of 
 the event of the same character last preceding. Such occasions 
 form milestones in the progress of the nations; and we shall 
 only half make the journey to advantage without reading un- 
 derstandingly the inscriptions traced on them. 
 
 So many International Expositions have occurred during the 
 last quarter of a century, that there is some danger of the 
 public mind falling into the fancy of their being literally of no 
 consequence—mere shows, intended to tickle the vanity of 
 some particular exhibitor, or only commercial speculations, 
 calculated to aid the sale of the goods put upon view at them. 
 Without doubt, both the ends just mentioned are accomplished 
 by and through those exhibitions ; but those see but a limited 
 distance into the progress of human affairs who fail to recog¬ 
 nize in them something far beyond this limited scope—some¬ 
 thing largely instrumental in carrying out the great plans and 
 purposes of the Creator. If ever the day is to come to the 
 earth when the nations shall “ see, eye to eye,” as promised in 
 the divine revelation, through no agency will the end have 
 been more surely accomplished than the bringing together of 
 the different peoples at international exhibitions, and exhibit¬ 
 ing, by one nation to the others, of the progress made in arts, 
 inventions, and all the arrangements for human good. And if 
 ever the day is to come, when “ the nations shall learn war no 
 more,” by no agency will that result have been so forwarded, as 
 one nation seeing what the others have done, not only in 
 peaceful inventions, but in the very arts of rendering battles 
 destructive ! What if there is something commercial involved 
 in every gathering of the sort, when something so much 
 higher is also involved ? And is it not time that the truth with 
 
OMENS FRENCH EXPOSITION OF 78. 
 
 13 
 
 reference to such exhibitions should be fully understood, and 
 those who claim the power of thought cease to scoff at them 
 as “mere shows,” “doing no one any good,” and “merely 
 spending money and making a fuss for nothing !” Surely 
 Albert the Good, as the English have named him, did a great 
 work, not only for England but for humanity, in forwarding if 
 not originating the first of the great modern exhibitions—that 
 at London Hyde Park in 1851 ; and surely his son, the Prince 
 of Wales, one day, if God so will, to be King of England, could 
 in no way better prove himself worthily his son. than by aid¬ 
 ing, as he has done, the Paris Exposition of 1878, and person¬ 
 ally contributing the costly presents brought home by himself 
 from India, to add to the attractive character of the collection. 
 Surely, as well, those who preferred to celebrate the Centen¬ 
 nial of American Independence by a great American Exposi¬ 
 tion of arts and manufactures, rather than to erect some costly 
 monument of stone or brass for future ages, judged and did 
 well for the country in arranging and managing that Exhibi¬ 
 tion, even if they did not in all things eclipse all such gather¬ 
 ings that had preceded them, and if they did not succeed in 
 attracting all or many of the crowned heads and governing 
 authorities of the world to be spectators. Let these truths be 
 fearlessly spoken and well understood ; and in the light thus 
 shed, let the Exposition of 1878 be hastily and yet intelligently 
 examined. 
 
 The French Exhibition of 1867, held on the same spot occu¬ 
 pied by this of 1878, was probably the most perfect yet 
 gathered by any of the nations, while it certainly was the 
 most brilliant in its surroundings, of any international event 
 in history. Napoleon III., though then within three years of 
 his loss of power, was, as already said, at the very height of 
 his reputation, and France was at her richest moment. Then 
 at peace with each other, literally^ all the nations of the world 
 contributed to the wondrous collection ; and the very name 
 of Paris, as the home and source of costly luxury, was a 
 guarantee that the contributions of each would be of their 
 rarest. The crowned heads of all Europe, and of the more 
 
14 
 
 PARIS IN 73 . 
 
 cultivated countries ot Asia and Africa, came to the great 
 gathering; and the popular saying, that ‘‘one ran against 
 princes at every corner and reigning monarchs at every 
 second square,” was only a trifling exaggeration. The dis¬ 
 tinguished character of the attendance from all the leading 
 countries of the world was only excelled by its immense 
 number; and there is no one who participated in that indus¬ 
 trial carnival, likely ever to forget some of the singular scenes 
 growing out of the blending of the nations and the strange¬ 
 ness of many of the customs of the one to the knowledge of 
 the other. When the Turcoman prince, bargaining to buy all 
 the girls of the sewing-machine exhibition, with whom to es¬ 
 tablish a new and more attractive hareem, was met by the 
 information that he could not be allowed to do so, and would 
 be put in prison if he attempted to lay hand on one of the 
 white beauties, his sensations of angry surprise were only 
 second to those of the bearded Mussulman who made his 
 first essay at drinking a glass of American soda-water and was 
 smothered by the froth in his nostrils. The American who 
 attempted to emulate the Chinese in drinking tea boiling hot 
 from the urn, and who severely scalded himself thereby, was 
 scarcely a match for one of the Eastern potentates who shall 
 be nameless, and who left Paris in dudgeon because he could 
 not be allowed there to cut off the head of a refractory mem¬ 
 ber of his suite, without answering to the local laws for the 
 deed. Through what restaurants and cafes, crowded with all 
 the eatables of all the lands on earth, one ate his way around 
 the great building, which some irreverent genius described as 
 “a sausage laid around in links ;” and through what other 
 circles of drinking places, embodving the bibulatory mixtures 
 of all lands, one similarly drank his way—“ the American 
 Bar” not the least or the worst patronized of the many 
 sources of supply. What mixtures of all the languages heard 
 since Babel, saluted the ears at one time and another, with 
 only a small percentage understood, but the balance sup¬ 
 plied by active fancy. What music sometimes rang through 
 the Parc Fran9ais, when the great band of the Emperor’s 
 
OMENS FRENCH EXPOSITION OF ’78. 
 
 15 
 
 Garde Imperiale interpreted the warlike airs of all lands, com¬ 
 mencing with the “Marseillaise” and “ Partant pour la Syrze,” 
 and ending with a deification of “Yankee Doodle” and an 
 adding of grace to sombre “God Save the Queen and how 
 the foil to all this was supplied by the endless and intolerable 
 thrumming and banging of the Tunisian Caf<s, said to have 
 sent some hundreds to lunatic asylums. And what a summer 
 it was, altogether, the delight only temporarily dampened 
 when the news came of the death of Maximilian in far-off 
 Mexico, throwing the French court into mourning and shad¬ 
 owing everything with the unread omens of the future. 
 
 Some of the special events of that Exposition will stand 
 through all time as types of regal splendor. No musical 
 event of the age had a greater crowd or more significance in 
 its awards than the Grand Concours , at the Palais d'Industrie, 
 in the Champs Elvsees, on Sunday the 7th of July, when the 
 palms of merit were awarded to the musical combinations 
 believed to have most distinguished themselves ; and no 
 social spectacle, of the present century at least, could com¬ 
 pare with the two great civic and imperial fetes of the weeks 
 preceding the Ball of the Municipality at the Hotel de Ville, 
 and the Czar’s Ball at the Tuilleries, the latter given, as the 
 name indicates, in honor of the presence of the Emperor of 
 Russia. In books of the time, as well as in newspaper cor¬ 
 respondence, these and other events of the season had full 
 description, much of it almost forgotten, strange to say, in the 
 brief period of only eleven years, but worth recalling under the 
 incitements of the present Exposition. It is of more import 
 to note the omens connected with the Exposition of 1878, as 
 following that of 1867 and the rival shows of 1873 at Vienna 
 and 1876 at Philadelphia. 
 
 It is easil} r understood that, whatever the amount of national 
 pride involved in each exhibition, commercial prosperity was 
 quite as much in question in every case,—the amount of 
 money received by each nation from visiting foreigners form¬ 
 ing no inconsiderable item, and the revenues of Paris (espec¬ 
 ially) having been so materially added to during the gather- 
 
16 
 
 PARIS IN ’ 78 . 
 
 ing of 1867, that the beneficial result was felt for not less than 
 two years succeeding, and all the other cities having been bene¬ 
 fited in only less proportion. But this point of the monetary 
 advantage was, after all, merely a minor one—the. great result 
 was to be found in the free exhibition of the products of the 
 exhibiting nation, rendered possible by limited distance of 
 carriage, and certain to attract admirers at the time and buy¬ 
 ers thereafter. When France was so terribly driven to the 
 wall in 1870-1871, some of her best territory taken away and a 
 fine laid upon her that must have bankrupted most nations 
 —one of the worst results threatened to be the growing of an 
 impression in the general mind that she had seen her best days, 
 even in a. commercial aspect, and the consequent serious if not 
 fatal injury to her opportunities for supplying the markets of 
 the luxury-loving world. This point seems to have been early 
 recognized by her republican rulers ; and no small share of 
 energy was needed to make the very creditable display of 
 France at Vienna, so soon after the drawing out of what 
 seemed her life-blood. Quite as creditable was the display 
 made at Philadelphia; and those who closely examined it be¬ 
 came aware that France was neither unable nor unwilling to 
 enter the lists as a candidate for the purchasing favors of the 
 world. 
 
 But all this was necessarily secondary to the desire and the 
 necessity of showing her resources, once more and with all 
 the advantages, at home. It is alleged, and probably with 
 truth, (as hereinafter stated in particulars) that the idea of a 
 new International Exposition in the Champs de Mars was 
 broached immediately after the settlement of the form of 
 government; and if true, the fact only proves that the same 
 race were involved who used to enjoy the reputation of im¬ 
 mediately proceeding to gild the dome of the Invalides after each 
 political convulsion that brought some new power into prom¬ 
 inence. At all events, the project was introduced, discussed, 
 became a thing of certainty. Ardent republicans have alleged 
 that the cardinal motive for holding the Exposition of 1878 
 was the desire to show the world that a republic possessed all 
 
OMENS FRENCH EXPOSITION OF 78. 
 
 17 
 
 the power claimed by a kingdom or an empire ; but the best 
 friends of France see further than this, and understand that 
 the national necessity and the national desire had nothing 
 whatever to do with the forms of government-^-that France 
 needed to display her undiminisked resources, her remaining 
 wealth, and her unconquerable industry and determination, so 
 soon after her great calamity as to shame all peoples of slow 
 recuperation, and so conclusively that her ability of luxurious 
 supply would never again be doubted, whatever circumstances 
 might intervene. 
 
 This it is that France has been teaching the world, during 
 1878, on the Champs de Mars ; and the lesson has been by no 
 means the least impressive one taught during the past century 
 on that historic field. Whatever her disasters, she lives and 
 thrives ; whatever her losses, she can and will rival the world 
 in her productions, useful as well as ornamental, though more 
 signally in the latter ; whatever her form of government, she 
 is capable of arranging a great display, receiving the world 
 that may be disposed to visit it, and reaping the benefits that 
 may be derived from it. This, we repeat, has been the lesson 
 of the day, on the Champs de Mars; and equally happy and 
 profitable is it for the exhibiting nation that she formed the 
 resolution so promptly and has carried it out so nobly. 
 
 PARIS MEDAL OF 1867. 
 
III. 
 
 A FEW WORDS OF THE EXPOSITION, HISTORICALLY. 
 
 Bitterly as France, as a nation, suffered in the Franco-Ger¬ 
 man war, and at its close, Paris, as a city, suffered even worse 
 physically, and in the opinions of many who assumed to read 
 the past and to divine the future. Physically, it only needs-to 
 recall to mind the injuries which the French capital suffered 
 in the burning of the Tuilleries, part of the Louvre, the Hotel 
 de Vilie, the Palace of the Legion of Honor, and many other 
 buildings of only less importance—the defacement of many 
 of her statues, following the temporary destruction of the 
 great Napoleonic Column in the Place Vendome—the sweeping 
 away of many of the finest trees in the Bois de Boulogne, and 
 the wide-spread destruction in the suburbs, commencing in 
 the city proper and only ending at Versailles, with the demoli¬ 
 tion of historic St. Cloud disgracefully crowning all. 
 
 For a time, the moral damage to Paris, of its losses during 
 the melancholy struggle, was even greater than the physical. 
 Naturally, in the half-dismantled condition into which it fell, 
 the foot of the pleasure-seeker no longer sought it, for some 
 years, with the avidity to which it had been accustomed, and 
 this loss was only partially made up by the coming, of the 
 curiosity-hunters, eager for any remains of the injury done 
 during the conflict. No slight damage was done to the prestige 
 of the gay city in the continuance of the national legislative 
 sessions at Versailles—up to this time continued ; the effect 
 being all the more deadly from the impression to which the 
 remaining at Versailles gave color, that the populace of Paris 
 could no more be trusted by the national lawgivers. But how 
 much, even beyond what has been named, the city suffered 
 morally and in the world’s speculations, may be better judged 
 than otherwise, through some extracts following from an 
 article in one of the leading London newspapers of the spring 
 of 1871, in which the final dethronement of the Queen of the 
 
A FEW WORDS OF THE EXPOSITION. 
 
 19 
 
 Seine from its centuried place as one of the world's first capi¬ 
 tals, was not only seriously considered but to some extent 
 prophesied. Said that journal, on the occasion referred to : 
 
 “While the Parisians are awaiting with a silent but trans¬ 
 parent feverishness the Imperial word which shall decide 
 whether the streets of their cherished city are to resound to 
 the insulting music and martial tramp of their all-powerful 
 conquerors, * * minds more tranquil and far-seeing are 
 
 asking themselves rvhether a greater and more enduring 
 humiliation is not impending over the famous capital. * * 
 
 It is idle to hope that many generations must not needs 
 elapse before Paris forgets the pitiless German shells and the 
 compelling German hand. Yet a long memory will not be the 
 peculiar attribute of Paris alone. * * In the general mind 
 
 of France is seething the burning question whether it owes its 
 misfortunes more to the rude sword of the victor or to the 
 vain-glorious levity and unreasoning boast of the gay but 
 gasconading metropolis. ‘ C'est Paris qui a fait notre malheur” 
 (' It is Paris that has made our misfortune '), is the reproach 
 addressed to it on every side, as reported by several travelled 
 and trustworthy witnesses ; and for the first time in modern 
 history it has become doubtful whether, by the almost unani¬ 
 mous voice of its sister cities, and certainly by the unbroken 
 consent of society and the rural mind, Paris should not be 
 deposed from its pride of place, and its hitherto unchallenged 
 supremacy be exchanged for a lower estate and a less towering 
 influence. * * Is not the time approaching when even 
 
 Frenchmen will ask aloud if Paris was not the head and front 
 of their offending still more than of their glorjr, and demand 
 that it should expiate the injuries it has inflicted by a timely 
 dethronement? * * Thriftiness has always been a French 
 
 virtue, if we separate France from its once recklessly squan¬ 
 dering capital; and for many years to come this virtue will be 
 doubly guarded by necessity. Paris has hitherto been the 
 exception to the rule ; but the provinces will watch with un¬ 
 speakably jealous eye to see that Paris becomes its chief illus¬ 
 tration. The mantle of M. Haussmann will fall on no man's 
 
 3 
 
20 
 
 PARIS m ’ 78 . 
 
 shoulders. It is on the ground, and there will be nobody to 
 pick it up. * * Theatrical subsidies will scarcely be toler¬ 
 
 ated in a city saddled with a personal debt of two hundred 
 million francs, and whose share of the national fine for 
 unprecedented daring and disaster, will probably be larger. 
 * * The urban woods and lakes which have long been 
 
 the delight of opulence and frivolity are forever shorn 
 of their beauty, unless a bounteous hand, added to that of 
 time, restore them to their loveliness; but time can do 
 nothing of itself to a ‘wilderness of stumps,’ and the in¬ 
 dividual who proposes a more expensive mode of reparation 
 would speak not to deaf but to indignant ears. Many a 
 bewitching hostess has found out, ere this, the effect of re¬ 
 trenchment imposed by a husband’s losses ; and Paris will ex¬ 
 perience, in numerically diminished guests, and in considerably 
 less of the world’s attention, what it is to ‘ possess such lustre 
 and then lack.’ * * While Paris itself will probably in¬ 
 
 dulge in not a few feeble regrets over its vanished glories, and 
 the, flocks of pleasure seekers from both hemispheres will 
 seek in vain for another sojourn as agreeable and congenial, 
 the solid public opinion of France will view the change with 
 severe satisfaction. * * Robbed of its social attractions, 
 
 Paris will thereby lose much of its political importance ; and 
 the native feelings of which we have spoken will again come 
 in aid of the sentence. * * Whether this virtual diminu¬ 
 
 tion of social and political authority will be carried a step 
 further, and the very name and character of ‘capital’ be 
 obliterated, is another matter. It may not be probable, but it 
 is not impossible. * * Is it not possible that Paris itself 
 
 may appear to most Frenchmen a gigantic mistake? * * 
 We feel no confidence, though we fully admit the possibility, 
 that even an actual transfer’ [of capital to Tours or Blois] 
 
 ‘ will take place ; but we entertain little doubt that Paris will 
 not henceforward be quite the pleasant place it has hitherto 
 been esteemed, and that never again will it be allowed to 
 arrogate to itself, as it has so frequently done, the despotic 
 dictum : L'Etat, cest Mai/ 
 
A FEW WORDS OF THE EXPOSITION. 
 
 21 
 
 Such was the prophecy which vented itself, in a direction 
 usually well informed, when the smoke of the conflict had not 
 yet rolled away ; and the very fact that such a prophecy was 
 vented, is proof that in the minds of a large body of mankind 
 Paris had suffered a hurt which must always cripple if it did 
 not destroy her. Perhaps no better proof could be adduced, 
 in all history, of the reliability of uninspired prophecy, one of 
 the things most readily vented in and to the world. 
 
 Meanwhile, it is equally evident that th <z people of Paris, and 
 those who felt lying on their shoulders the burden of its future, 
 did not take any such melancholy view of its coming fate, 
 however they might writhe under its wrongs and lament its 
 deadly injuries. In their minds, unquestionably and from the 
 very first, what had been abolished needed to be restored— 
 needed to be restored, and could be. Very naturally, a repe¬ 
 tition of that which had been the culminating glory of the 
 previous decade, seemed among the early necessities of the 
 revival; and it may be proper, here, to call attention to the 
 fact that no other people on the globe had better warrant, in 
 the long establishment of such exhibitions, and the circum¬ 
 stances under which the very first arose, to hold this opinion 
 of its importance. For the first great French Exhibition 
 (not an international one—that idea was to come to the world, 
 later—but really the avant Lourrier of its class in the world) 
 was originated by Francois de Neufchateau, and held at Paris, 
 within a few years after the establishment of the First Re¬ 
 public, in 1798, when the blood of the aristocrats had not yet 
 been all washed away from the Place de Greve and the Place 
 de la Revolution. Several more followed, when yet no other 
 nation had adopted the idea—the fourth when the First Em¬ 
 pire was really at the zenith of its glory and power, in 1806. 
 The Restoration kept up the tradition with three ; and the 
 reign of Louis Philippe also followed with three. The Second 
 Republic held one in 1849, the largest yet known, with some 
 4,000 contributors. It was only in 1855, however, that the first 
 international exhibition was held, following those of England, 
 1851, and the United States, 1853, and with the large number 
 
22 
 
 PABIS IN ’ 78 . 
 
 of 20,000 contributors. The great Exposition of 1867 increased 
 the number of contributors to 42,000, and the space covered 
 to 642,000 metres, as against the 88,000 square yards of London 
 in 1351, and the 119:000 square yards of the same city in 1S62, 
 and the 152,000 metres of Paris in 1855. 
 
 How early the impression that this leading place in the 
 world’s great exhibitions needed to be retained, fixed itself in 
 at least some portion of the Parisian mind, is best illustrated 
 by the declaration of M. Teisserenc de Bort, Minister of Agri¬ 
 culture and Commerce, who at the opening of the Exhibition 
 stated that the idea of holding it was conceived and discussed, 
 the very day after the definitive establishment of the Republic. 
 This blended feeling and desire for performance was naturally 
 strengthened in many minds and created in many others, by 
 the arrangement and progress of the Vienna Exhibition ; and 
 the after-steps involved in the Parisian repetition were ren¬ 
 dered much the more easy through the necessity of providing 
 for that occasion such a representation of French art, manu¬ 
 factures and luxury as could give the lie to the prophecies of 
 the downfall of the nation and its capital city so freely indulged. 
 Almost at the time of the Austrian Exhibition, the first 
 movements were made in the national legislature, at Versailles, 
 for an Exposition in 1876, 1877 or 187S. Very soon thereafter, 
 the announcement of the American Centennial and its 
 Exhibition at Philadelphia, suggested to the most ardent that 
 during the same year any display at Paris must be at a serious 
 disadvantage ; and a second thought showed that 1877 would 
 come too near the American display and at least to some 
 extent cripple the contributions as well as the attendance 
 from the Western World. To 1878, then, all the proprieties 
 pointed; and to 1878 the national energies were thenceforth 
 bent, with a determination equally illustrating and honoring 
 the national character. 
 
 An early error into which many of the friends ot the Ex¬ 
 position fell, remained throughout the discussions and labors 
 bringing it about, and even to-day can scarcely be said to be 
 eradicated. France was republican—rapidly become so, from 
 
A FEW WORDS OF THE EXPOSITION. 
 
 23 
 
 imperialism. A large proportion of those who could make 
 any claim to forward and manage it, were republicans in senti¬ 
 ment. They committed the error of speaking of the Exhibition 
 as one of the means of proving the stability of the Republic. 
 To this arrogant conversion of the purposes and omens of the 
 occasion, to one purpose which many must altogether deny and 
 nearly all consider secondary, all of those differing from the 
 republican idea, naturally took exception. So far, monarchists 
 and imperialists—the men who looked for the coming of the 
 Comte de Paris, the Comte dc Chambord and the Prince Im¬ 
 perial—agreed cordially. France, for them, was not to be made 
 to bear a testimony in the truth of which they did not believe ; 
 and if such was indeed to be the issue, they would wash their 
 hands of the whole affair. Beyond question, not a man in 
 France would have opposed the exhibition, or sought in any 
 way to belittle or undervalue it, but for this claim. With this 
 claim, an opposition was actually manufactured, and at one time 
 threatened to be formidable. Had the Bonapartists laid the 
 same stress upon the point, that was really laid by the Bour¬ 
 bons and Orleanists, the amount of embarrassment experienced 
 might have been very serious if not fatal. Fortunately, the 
 actual opposition soon narrowed itself to the stronghold of 
 Bourbonism, the Faubourg St. Honore ; and so narrowed, and 
 deprived of the aid of the Imperialists, who were either wiser 
 or more prudent, the obstructing danger could be despised by 
 those having the great design in charge. 
 
 There is no occasion to follow the separate steps by which 
 the enterprise, once decided upon as a thing to be done, was 
 carried out. With the experience of the past, there was no 
 difficulty in deciding as to the place — the Champs de Mars, 
 again and inevitably. For plans of the necessary buildings, 
 the usual controversy was inevitable ; but it is easy to see that 
 the advantages were increased and the difficulties diminished, 
 through the number of buildings of the same character already 
 erected by the different nations, and the experiences encoun¬ 
 tered by one and another. Without the world having known 
 much of him in advance, a very capable “organizer” of the 
 
24 
 
 PARIS IN ’ 78 . 
 
 Exposition came to the front, in M. Ivrantz, despite his sus¬ 
 piciously German name. Early in 1877, the first work took 
 place on the old public ground that lay in dust and scattered 
 with ruins and debris for a long time after 1867. As for all 
 other purposes, that wonderful France could supply funds for 
 the framework of her new apotheosis, and did so, with far 
 less tardiness than many countries have shown, deficient in 
 excuses for any hindrance in appropriations. When the 
 Christmas frosts of 1877-8 fell on the Champs de Mars, the great 
 building to cover it, and the Trocadero Palace, across the 
 Seine, at the Quai de Billy, were well along toward completion, 
 in externals. And when the first of May, 1878, arrived, 
 with the inevitable opening, Paris, and France, were at least 
 able to say that no more was left undone than the habit of 
 all nations under such circumstances seems to render proper 
 if not indeed de rigeur. 
 
IV. 
 
 THE OPENING OF THE EXPOSITION, AND ITS 
 PALACES. 
 
 The opening of the Exposition of 1867, as some of the read¬ 
 ers of the description of that event may remember, was written, 
 in the unavoidable absence of the Governor, by “ Our Boy 
 Tommy,” a youngster of the Empire City, then being educated 
 at Paris. He it was who discovered a circumstance not gen¬ 
 erally known to the world until he made it public, and discred¬ 
 ited by many even after the publication — the interview 
 between the Emperor and Baron Haussmann, on the mornin 
 of the great event, with their speculations on the past an 
 current state of the weather, and the request of the Emperor 
 that Haussmann would bring back Eugenie’s umbrella, which 
 he had borrowed. He it was who, in describing the events 
 and notabilities of the day, so characterized them as probably 
 the leading personages of a great event had never before been 
 described since journalism first became an occupation. And 
 he it was to whom the citation was sent, somewhat late in 
 April, to cut himself loose from any and all entanglements 
 that might arise to prevent, take his way to the gay city in 
 time for the opening ceremonies, and make such report 
 thereon as would fully sustain his past reputation and duly 
 delight an expectant world. 
 
 Let it be understood that “Our Boy Tommy ” of the past 
 existed no longer, as so many things and persons no longer 
 existed, once marked in their influence on humanity. The 
 youngster of seventeen was gone, to return no more ; Dr. 
 Thomas Benningway, an American physician of rising emi¬ 
 nence, located at Stuttgart, Wurtemberg, having his clientelle 
 among the American colony there resident, supplied the only 
 reminder of the son of the Banker, and the widely-miscella- 
 neous pupil of 1867. It was to him that the summons went; and 
 it was from him, a few days before the opening, that the ac- 
 
 CL Oq 
 
26 
 
 PARIS IX ’ 78 . 
 
 ceptance of the commission came, with certain reminders and 
 reservations rendered inevitable by the lapse of eleven years. 
 
 “ I will do your bidding, even at the sacrifice of no little of my 
 material interests and no small wrench to my personal feelings,” 
 he wrote, “for I do not know that any one ever likes to put 
 himself in comparison with what he has been at another time ; 
 and I very much doubt whether I can summon back any of the 
 old vivacity that pleased some of my readers so well, and that 
 (so they said) the Emperor laughed over and at until he 
 came nearer to crying than he had done in a score of years. 
 Besides—I do not like Paris, nowadays. It is not the Paris 
 of the old time, whether better or worse. So much is gone 
 that was; so much exists that was not, and that, in the ripe 
 judgment of twenty-eight (my present measurement of life¬ 
 time) never should have been. The Empire as it was, was 
 better to me than the Republic that is —as I might more 
 freely demonstrate if I lived under the tri-color running the 
 other way, instead of the horizontal bars of the German 
 land. No—I do not like Paris as it is, principally because I 
 once liked it too well as it was. Besides, once more—the 
 dear old place is changed in persons even more than in itself. 
 I might find, I suppose, a good many of those who saw the 
 other Exhibition with me, if I tried; but I could not find any 
 one of three who were the most to me then in such very 
 different ways. The good old Abbe !—I know that you saw 
 him, more than once, during the 1867 summer ; and I especially 
 remember that you drew a not bad picture of him as you saw 
 him at Mabille, in—what was the name of your confounded 
 novel? — ‘ Only a Cucumber,’ c r something of the sort. Ah, 
 he was a much better man than even I knew, and I knew that 
 he was as good as they made them. lie died of fever and 
 privation, the first contracted and the latter endured, nursing 
 the sick through that terrible siege in the winter of 1870-71 ; 
 and he went home to where I should like to follow him when I 
 go. Count Bob—you met him, too, more than once that sum¬ 
 mer,! am sure—Count Bob had his head torn off by a fragment 
 of shell, in one of the sallies made by the despairing Parisians, 
 
THE EXPOSITION ., AND ITS PALACES. 
 
 27 
 
 after I got away, in January,—and died as became a true 
 descendant of Count Robert of Paris, of the Crusades, which 
 the poor, good fellow always boasted himself to be, and which 
 I have no doubt that he was. And Fred- Raikes, the third of 
 the three for whom I really cared in that time that seems so 
 long ago—Fred, is not dead that I know of. I almost wish 
 that he was: better that than the dissipated man-about-town 
 that they tell me he has been, in London, for half a dozen 
 years. 
 
 “ Ah, well. You see that they are gone, as I have no doubt 
 that your companions of that summer are gone too, if you 
 would make a clean breast of it.” [The Governor has done 
 so, Tommy, at the very beginning of this volume.] In spite 
 of all this, I must go back to Paris, and try to recall a 
 little of the feeling of the scribbler, which I have not had 
 now for years. I must try, and I will. Do not be surprised, 
 however, if you think that your grandfather is writing, and 
 miss what you were pleased to call ‘vivacity’ and ‘freedom’ in 
 that account, on which I really prided myself more than 3 r ou 
 knew. If you miss all that, this time, and fail to find half so 
 many personalities and personal descriptions as I was sure to 
 give you when I lived over in the Qnartier Latin, console 
 yourself that you will also miss most of what I then regarded 
 as merely jolly writing, but what was really slang of the fullest 
 body and highest proof.” 
 
 This was part of the somewhat long epistle marking the 
 acceptance of the proposition. By a mail, coming some two 
 weeks after the opening, came the redemption of his promise, 
 strangely marking the change that had fallen on the wild boy 
 of the Empire, and yet with enough occasional flashes of the 
 old spirit to assure the identity of the writer, had that been 
 otherwise doubtful. 
 
 “Well, the Exposition of 1878 is open, and I was ‘there to 
 see.' I am glad to have seen the opening, because I am fond 
 of seeing the beginnings of things when I am to see them at 
 all; and yet I am sorry to have seen it, because for some reason 
 the glory of all such things seems to have departed, and I 
 
28 
 
 PARIS IN 78 . 
 
 can neither grow so merry nor so romantic over them as I 
 could do only eleven years ago. 
 
 “ I reached Paris only twenty-four hours in advance of the 
 opening, and spent my day (i) in looking about the old city, 
 where I had not been for several months; and (2) in using my 
 ticket privilege and making myself familiar a little with the 
 thing to be opened. In the first task I may sa}r, at once, that 
 I was agreeably disappointed. Paris was never lovelier than 
 it is to-day. I need not tell you, who have seen it so many 
 times since the Kalmuck-Tartar-Germanic raid, that, with the 
 exceptions of a very few points, the marks of the conflict have 
 all disappeared, and the stranger would need to have the scars 
 pointed out to him before discovering that there had been 
 any wounds. Old stagers—(think of me, at twenty-eight, an 
 ‘ old stager !’)—old stagers and habitue's miss, of course, the 
 Tuilleries and the Hotel de Ville ; that is literally and abso¬ 
 lutely all. As for the rest, the discontinuance of Baron Hauss- 
 raann’s little operations has been rather a benefit than a 
 disadvantage, the appearance of the city being ‘finished’ 
 having come back to some extent since he laid down whatever 
 instrument he used in demolishing, and the clouds of dust and 
 piles of brick having both disappeared very pleasantly. 
 And indeed, with not much good will toward the present 
 rulers of city or country, I must say that they have managed 
 to place everything in very fair order, and to keep that order 
 unbroken. I do not know that I have ever seen Paris more 
 attractive as a residence, or looking more like the blending of 
 Europe and the Orient which best fills the imagination, than 
 as lying under the sun of May, this day of 1878. Some flowers 
 are perennial; so, I think, is the city that began as Lutetia, 
 occupying merely that little lie de la Cite, and that through 
 enough vicissitudes to have driven any other place on the 
 globe out of existence, has gone on growing, yes, and beauti¬ 
 fying, year after year and century after centur)c 
 
 “ I say, the sun of this day ; I do not say the sun of the day 
 before the opening, for there was none ; and there was nothing 
 of the glamour of sunshine to make it seem fairer to me than 
 
THE EXPOSITION, AND ITS PALACES. 
 
 29 
 
 it was. The weather had been unstable and more than a trifle 
 boisterous, we learned, over all Central Europe, for the three 
 days preceding. It rained when I entered Paris and emerged 
 from my schlaf-wagen, on the morning of the last day of April. 
 Most of that day my umbrella was in occasional requisition ; 
 and at night the very floodgates of heaven seemed opened, 
 while thunder heavy enough boomed over the city to suggest 
 that the fates intended to keep the memory of all the cannon¬ 
 ades in which it had ever taken part, before the general mind by 
 way of instruction and edification. The torrents of rain that 
 swept the streets were exceptional in their force and contin¬ 
 uance. They did some damage, as I understood, to the shrub¬ 
 bery in the grounds of the Exhibition ; and they certainly 
 must have made it somewhat difficult working for the poor 
 fellows who labored on all through the night, to make as 
 nearly ready as possible what was by no means ready and by no 
 means quite fitted for exhibiting to the eyes of the public. 
 Only the violence of the rain gave an)' hope that it would 
 have an early end, and that the ceremonies of the opening, if 
 any there were to be, could be carried on otherwise than in 
 boats and under waterproof canopies. A part of this, as you 
 will see, was carried out in the event, and the remainder was 
 a humbug, as usual. 
 
 “Before describing the 'opening,’ it may be well to under¬ 
 stand what there was to open. And perhaps you can come 
 nearer to that knowledge through comparison than in any 
 other mode. 
 
 “ No one should know better than yourself, the bounds of 
 the Exposition of 1867. If report of that time spoke the truth, 
 you wandered around the buildings and grounds of that year, 
 at all hours of the day and so many of those of the night as 
 did not force the sergens de ville to arrest you oftencr than the 
 national comities allowed. Well, on the assumption that 
 you remember the Old, as well as wish to know the bearings 
 of the New, let me proceed to make the comparison. 
 
 “ The whole of the Champs de Mars—‘ only that and nothing 
 more’—you will remember was occupied in 1867. But only a 
 
30 
 
 PARIS 1Y ’ 78 . 
 
 small part of it, comparatively, was occupied by the Exposi¬ 
 tion Palace, which some person ot porcine tendencies (was it 
 yourself?) compared to a number of links of sausage, each 
 differing in length from the other, laid around in a series of 
 ovals. A much better simile, to my mind, would have been 
 that of a series of oblong boxes, ‘ nested ’ as they say, from 
 the smallest inside to the largest outside. Perhaps not more 
 than one-sixth to one-eighth of the whole ground was covered 
 by the Palace, the length being from the Quai d’Orsav and 
 the Seine, to the Avenue de la Mothe Piquet and the Military 
 School, while the flatter sides faced the Avenue Suffren on the 
 north, and the Avenue de la Bourdonnaye on the south. The 
 western end of the Champs, behind the Palace, formed the 
 splendid Parc Fran9ais; and in the grounds left unoccupied, in 
 all directions, but principally on the north and south, were 
 grouped and scattered the buildings of the different nations, 
 forming so picturesque a feature in the exhibition. 
 
 “ For the present occasion all this was changed. The whole 
 of the Champs de Mars, from the Quai d’Orsay to the Avenue 
 de la Mothe Piquet, and from the Avenue Suffren to the Ave¬ 
 nue de la Bourdonnaye, was taken up at once, many of the 
 annexes holding the machinery and other important exhibits, 
 being at the extremes fronting on Bourdonnaye and Suffren. 
 Something like one-half of the whole space of the Champs was 
 taken up by the Main Palace, (of course principally of glass 
 and iron, like all the rest), while galleries on the four sides (the 
 two larger ones, at the ends, called the Gallerie de Jena and 
 the Gallerie de 1’Ecole Militaire) separated the Main Palace 
 from ranges of machinery halls and annexes. Thus, no orna¬ 
 mental grounds were left behind the Palace, toward the Mili¬ 
 tary School, and all of them, on that side the Seine, were thrown 
 in front of it and towards the river. Meanwhile, the Pont de 
 Jena, in 1867 at its usual width, had for this occasion been wid¬ 
 ened to quite twice that width, by an iron flooring, railed, tem¬ 
 porarily thrown over it, forming one of the most capacious 
 and delightful promenades in the world, and a part of the Ex¬ 
 hibition grounds, included in them and only to be entered upon 
 
THE EXPOSITION , AND ITS PALACES 
 
 31 
 
 by those who had entered those grounds from one or other 
 direction. Beyond the bridge, the rise, which in 3867, stood 
 nearly naked, and then called the Hill of the Trocadero, had 
 been thrown into use in the most splendid manner, really form¬ 
 ing a part of the whole scarcely less important than that on 
 the other side of the Seine. For a distance along the river, 
 corresponding to,the width of the Champs de Mars on the op¬ 
 posite side, the rising height had been laid out in ornamental 
 grounds and sites for the buildings of different nations, form¬ 
 ing, with those beyond the river, a continuous collection only 
 broken by the bridge. Still rising from the river, on the 
 Trocadero side, and at the top of the height, came the splendid 
 Trocadero Palace, of stone, intended as a permanence in erec¬ 
 tion (like your Memorial Hall at Philadelphia,) and certainly 
 worthy ot that preservation, alike from its commanding loca¬ 
 tion, w T ith the matchless view possible from it, and from its size 
 and impressive oddity as a building. If I have succeeded in 
 conveying any idea of space by all this, you will see, now, 
 that the area covered by the Exhibition was an immense 
 parallelogram, about three times as long as wide, taking in the 
 whole Champs de Mars, crossing the river in a line with its two 
 long sides, and enclosing the Trocadero Height to the Rue 
 Franklin and the Avenue de Trocadero, forming its eastern or 
 northeastern boundary. Not covering so much space, by a 
 large difference, as that occupied by the Centennial Grounds 
 at Philadelphia (if I am rightly instructed by the maps and 
 pictures sent over); not even so large as the grounds on the 
 Prater at Vienna, as I myself saw them in 1873 ; and yet, pro¬ 
 bably, with the advantages of location, the view afforded, and 
 the historical memorials within sight and memory, the most 
 perfect, and the most strikingly arranged, of any that the 
 world has yet seen in its great industrial and artistic gather- 
 
THE OPENING OF THE EXPOSITION.— {Continued^) 
 
 “ If 1 had spent, all the late years of my life in studying the 
 anatomy of houses instead of that of men (there !—sink the 
 doctor, old man !—what am I saying ?)—in that case I might 
 be better able to describe the two palaces—the Exposition 
 and the Trocadero—than I can hope to do under existing 
 circumstances. But I must try, if not to describe at least to 
 indicate. 
 
 “ Every attempt at an industrial exhibition building, I sup¬ 
 pose, is an attempt, quite as much, at excelling all others 
 previously constructed, and avoiding the errors of all prede¬ 
 cessors. I know that the Palace of 1867, for which they said 
 that dumpy Prince Napoleon was more than half responsible, 
 aimed at giving the go-by to the English Palace at Sydenham, 
 in convenience if not in size and outer effect. And I suppose 
 that, in convenience, it really was a wonderful success, while in 
 outside appearance one of the most insignificant things ever 
 done for a great purpose. It certainly enraptured no one, with¬ 
 out. It certainly supplied wonderful opportunities, with its rings 
 and circles, for showing the different products of the same 
 country in one direction, and the similar products of all coun¬ 
 tries in another ; and so far it may really have been one of the 
 best results of the century. The Vienna building went back 
 from the oval to the square, and so partially lost those 
 opportunities for comparison ; but it added some grandeurs, 
 especially in the centre space, under the dome, to which the 
 French building could not pretend. The American, at Phila¬ 
 delphia (if the pictures convey the proper idea, again) seems 
 to have followed the Vienna one in return to the square 
 instead of the circular, but retained the central idea of a grand 
 coup d'ceil , setting the dividing lines in minor and different 
 buildings. But the Main French Exposition Palace of this 
 year, seems to have taken much from both the Vienna and 
 
THE OPENING OF THE EXPOSITION. 
 
 33 
 
 the Philadelphia buildings, and yet gone very far from either 
 and from any other yet attempted, It has preserved the 
 parallel lines of the 1867 building, straight instead of curved ; 
 and (the truth may as well be told first as last) its plan has 
 totally ignored anything like a comprehensive central view, 
 which may prove to be an advantage in detail but is certainly 
 a fatal error in the production of any single effect. 
 
 “ Seen from without, the Palace is by no means the equal, 
 in impressiveness, of that at Vienna or that at Philadelphia, 
 while far excelling its predecessor on the Champs de Mars, 
 about which there was really nothing to remember pleasantly 
 except the row of little flags always fluttering all around what 
 would have been the eaves, if there had been any roof. As I 
 have already said, my knowledge of the anatomy of buildings, 
 or in other words, of the styles of architecture, is terribly 
 defective—though that by the way is not of much consequence 
 in an age when every style or none is employed in the same 
 building. So far as I can judge, the Palace proper is about 
 twice as long as wide, a square box instead of the oval butter- 
 bowl of 1867, and low like that. It has four raised towers at 
 the four corners, square, with rounded roofs and glass round- 
 headed sides, for which I know (again) no style of architec¬ 
 ture to supply a name, and yet which you may imagine, if you 
 can recall the central tower of the Etablissement at La Plage, 
 Dieppe. A fifth tower, of the same shape and construction, 
 though apparently lower, is in the middle of the end fronting 
 the Seine, and forms the entrance. I do not know whether 
 General Pleasanton had anything to do with the construction ; 
 but the glass of all the towers, as indeed, of all the sides of 
 the building, seems blue enough to indicate that the builders 
 constructed for health quite as much as appearance, and put 
 in ‘ blue glass’ for that hygienic purpose. All the sides are 
 finished, of course, with finials, (as I think they call them,) 
 forming short flag-staffs, and allowing the fluttering and wav¬ 
 ing of three or four times as many pieces of bunting as the 
 1867 building ever exhibited. 
 
 “ One more feature of consequence, and I have done with 
 
34 
 
 PARIS IN ’ 78 . 
 
 the Main Exposition Palace as it appeared on the opening- 
 da)% on the outside. In the fa9ace of the Palace, and seen 
 from the Seine— really on what would be called the piazza of 
 that end, in an ordinary house—a row of colossal figures 
 stands, under appropriate flags floating above, typifying the 
 different nations exhibiting, and doing so very pleasantly 
 in the main. I do not know the name of the artist who 
 designed them, or if there may have been several, but I think 
 that he has ‘deserved well of the country,’as they used to 
 say in the days following 1793, of some commander who had 
 not yet made the blunder for which they chopped off his head. 
 If I remember correctly, there are about twenty of these 
 national statues, in plaster or some cognate material, of 
 course. Of the American one, part of the idea, at least, is 
 taken from the colossal Freedom of Crawford, on the top of 
 the Capilol at Washington—at least I so remember something 
 between them. The America in the fagade is crowned with 
 leaves and a star on the forehead ; the face is severely Greek 
 in outline, and very stern ; and one of the hands (really I 
 forget which), holds a flagstaff, from which the Star Spangled 
 Banner droops over the shoulders (saving some labor in that 
 part of the figure?—what do you think?) The other hand 
 rests on the Roman fasces, and holds a scroll with the magic 
 word which everybody thinks that he understands and 
 nobody does—‘Constitution.’ There is an eagle at the feet, 
 looking up at the severe face, with, as I think, a little terror 
 expressed in the beak, lest the fasces, with the axe, may 
 directly be employed in bird-taming. Taken all in all, the 
 America is rather good, I fancy, though of course every two¬ 
 penny sculptor who sees it imagines that he could have pro¬ 
 duced a better. Britain, necessarily, has a Britannia, and no 
 more need be said. France is intensely Republican, and again 
 no more need be said. Germany is conspicuous by absence, 
 and very properly so, as she has no exhibit within, and the 
 Emperor’s pictures came too late to allow of a recognition 
 here. Italy has that celebrated and most maternal wolf of 
 Romulus ; Russia manifests the coldness of her climate very 
 
THE OPENING OF THE EXPOSITION. 
 
 35 
 
 effectively; Greece shows her broken sculptures; Belgium 
 parades the lion that is shared by so many nations ; Switzer¬ 
 land (if I remember rightly, again), waves the mighty wings of 
 her lammergeyer; Japan shows her embroidery and her 
 pottery ; Egypt makes boast of the Suez Canal, in a diagram ; 
 and here my recollection, unassisted by any notes, and all the 
 while a little misty, fails altogether, and I can only say, again, 
 grouping the whole together, that the array is a pleasing one, 
 showing a happy conception in the beginning, and carrying 
 out worthy of much consideration, 
 
 “Crossing the river to the alternate Palace, that of the 
 Trocadero, I fear, spite of its solidity, that I may be able to 
 convey only a more shadowy idea than that of the Main Palace, 
 from the fact that this is much more unlike anything ever be¬ 
 fore constructed. This Trocadero Palace, intended for per¬ 
 manence, stands at the apex of the eminence, fronting squarely 
 on the Place du Roi de Rome, north-and-eastward, and the 
 swell which makes it a half circle extending out on the other 
 side, into the grounds and toward the Seine and the Main 
 Palace. The lower story, which is colonnaded after the Vene¬ 
 tian manner, extends far beyond the upper, the retreat of the 
 latter forming the most magnificent of balconies above the 
 first. At the top of the second story rises a noble dome ; and 
 a grand Moorish shaft-tower, half-minaret, rises at each side at 
 the junction of the square and the circle, visible over al] 
 western Paris and down the Seine, and unquestionably affording 
 one of the finest views in the world from the top of either 
 From the main building (here with a bit of a reminder of the 
 effect of St. Peter’s, at Rome) two immense curved wings, of 
 the height of the first story, sweep away toward the edge of 
 the grounds (opposite the boundaries of the Champs de Mars) 
 and toward the Seine, with three round-topped towers on 
 either wing, and the one at either end large enough to convey 
 the same idea of solidity as that of the central building. It is 
 from the lower part of the main building that the great Cas¬ 
 cade leaps downward to the river, with successive after-leaps; 
 and it is in front of the Trocadero Palace that the grand Aqua- 
 
 4 
 
PARIS IAf 78. 
 
 l'ium is to be found, and that the most effective of the orna¬ 
 mental grounds of the exhibition are located. The Trocadero 
 Palace, with one of the grandest Concert Halls in the world 
 within the central building, with a wilderness of show-rooms, 
 meeting rooms, committee rooms and colonnades, is really 
 among the most original pieces of construction of the century ; 
 and if Paris (which means France) derived no other benefit 
 from the Exposition than this noble permanent building, all 
 the outlay and all the anxiety of the year would be eventually 
 repaid. 
 
 “All this, and I have not yet told you of the opening, so 
 long promised. To the event, then, with what intelligence I 
 may, and with a brevity doing something to relieve a possible 
 dullness. 
 
 “The heavy rain of the last night of April abated before 
 the morning of the first of May, but it did not cease 
 altogether. We rose to find the sky heavy and lowering, 
 with alternations of quick bursting rain. But such of us as 
 cared to see, and went out for that purpose, found more flags 
 afloat, however damply and drippingly, than have ever been 
 seen in the streets of Paris since what they call the ‘ Defini¬ 
 tive Consolidation (whatever that may mean) of the Republic/ 
 Naturally, they comprised the colors of ail the nations of the 
 earth, except the German ; and even the horizontal three 
 bars had a few exemplifications, in honor, I suppose, of the 
 Emperor’s sending his pictures. How much the French 
 depend upon us (not a word now about Wurtemburg !—I am 
 of New York, New Yorky !)—how much, I say, they depend 
 upon us of the New World, to make anything ‘go,’ was pretty 
 conclusively shown by the number of starred-and-striped bits 
 of bunting that waved from hotels, banking-houses, steamship 
 offices, and so many other places, that we seemed to have 
 quite the best of it as first national aid-de-camp to the nation 
 in command—in honor, possibly, of our boasting a republic of 
 our own, but a little more, I fancy, in the other honor of our 
 being the very best customers living, not only to the hotels 
 of Ireland and Switzerland, but to the dietary and commercial 
 offerings of the Queen of the Seine. 
 
THE OPENING OF THE EXPOSITION. 
 
 37 
 
 “Meanwhile the cannon joined with the bunting in making 
 a gala day—though I think that if I was a Parisian, and 
 especially a Parisian in authority, after the amount of that 
 manufactured thunder heard during the winter of 1870-71, 
 and the painfully inefficient defence that the city made of it 
 altogether, I should never wish to hear the explosion of 
 another cannon-charge, and would never officially let off 
 another gun, the very sound of which would suggest so much 
 of sorrow and suffering. They banged away, however, from 
 all the fortifications, and I have no doubt from every place 
 where there was a cannon mounted, around the whole city; 
 and all the rest of the account of what happened during the 
 day must be taken with an understood undertone of that de¬ 
 lightful artillery-music which at its best splits ear-drums and 
 breaks windows, and at its worst performs the Chinese office 
 of frightening into fits everybody within hearing. 
 
 “The exercises at the Trocadero were set down for half¬ 
 past two, but the tickets of admission named eleven A. M., 
 and as the light rain broke and the sun made its appearance 
 at half-past ten, I took a fiacre and made my way to the 
 Trocadero side of the Exhibition at once. Even when L 
 reached the scene of attraction of the day, the streets in the 
 vicinity were almost unpleasantly crowded. Even at that 
 early hour nearly every description of vehicle capable of 
 carrying passengers was bringing up the masses from every 
 direction; and the tramways from the Louvre and St. 
 Augustin seemed vieing with each other as to the number 
 that could be accommodated in a single vehicle without apply¬ 
 ing the hanging-on-to-a-bee-hive system of New York. Be¬ 
 sides what the wheels could do, all ages, sexes and conditions 
 were pressing up on foot. With the exception of the mon¬ 
 archical residents of the Faubourg St. Honore, who had 
 loudly boasted (so people said) that the whole thing would be 
 a failure from the lack of their countenance, all Paris seemed 
 determined to make a gala day of the occasion. 
 
 “ I passed within the charmed enclosure, ascended to the 
 main balcony of the Trocadero, overlooking all the city and 
 
38 
 
 PAMS IN ’78. 
 
 its suburbs sweeping westward, southwestward and south¬ 
 ward, and looked upon a scene nearly as impossible to de¬ 
 scribe as to duplicate. Without my having been previously 
 aware of the fact, the atmospheric conditions were the very 
 best that could have been arranged, and the whole panorama 
 was as much grander than it could have been under a clear 
 and unbroken sunshine, as a mountain range from the valley, 
 or a valley from a mountain outlook, would have been under 
 similar circumstances. Every object on which I looked was 
 brightened by the rain, as if newly varnished ; trees, flowers 
 and herbage not less than structures made with hands ; on 
 this the southern sun broke out at intervals with a fiery 
 glow, and alternately looked softly as through a veil of illu¬ 
 sion ; and a perpetual play of shadow and sunlight changing 
 places and chasing each other, followed with theatrical 
 quickness and something of the intensity of spectacular 
 lime-light. 
 
 “ That special section of Paris with which Americans are 
 most steadily familiar, from the western end of the boulevards 
 to the Porte St. Martin, lay well away at the left, the glorious 
 old Madeleine the most prominent object, and the Heights of 
 Montmartre forming the noblest of back-grounds. Nearer, in 
 the same direction, and further westward, the eye followed 
 the line of the Rue Royale to the Place de la Concorde, its 
 blood-red obelisk and splendid fountains, and crept up to the 
 Champs Elysees, the gray bul k of the Palais d’lndustne, and the 
 towering round structure (do you know the name? I do not) 
 not far from the Rond Point and on the Avenue Montaigne.* 
 Dropping back, it caught the long Seine front of the Louvre, 
 and what was the front of the Tuilleries, partially behind the 
 garden of the latter name, with glimpses of the Palais Royal 
 and the higher buildings in its neighborhood, overtopped by 
 the queer old Tour St. Jacques as an appropriate finish. Yet 
 beyond, and where the Se : ne had so far curved itself westward 
 as to be quite invisible, rose grandly in the distance the broad 
 towers of Notre Dame, with the Conciergerie and the Palais 
 de Justice and Hotel Dieu only a glimmer below. Still sweep- 
 
 * That, Tommy, was the Jardin Mabille . 
 
THE OPENING OF THE EXPOSITION. 
 
 39 
 
 ing westward, and nearer, arose the distant dome of the Pan¬ 
 theon, the twin towers of St. Clothilde and St. Sulpice, the 
 spires of St. Eustache and St. Etienne du Mont, and a score of 
 other objects notable elsewhere and otherwise rather than 
 here and now, with the Luxembourg hazy in the far distance. 
 Still nearer, the gilded dome of the Invalides, with the chang¬ 
 ing and doubtful sun playing fantastic tricks upon it; the 
 Ecole Militaire and its grounds ; and then, almost at the feet 
 of the gazer, the Exposition Palace, stately though flat, with 
 its five towers, statued fi^ade, annexes and ornamental 
 grounds, carried over by the Pont de Jena and up to the feet 
 indeed, in the rising shrubberies, buildings, and water-glories 
 of the river side of the Trocadero. Thus severely strained, 
 and here resting a moment, the gaze still swept up on the 
 northward to Passy, Auteuil, and the bosky green of the Bois 
 de Boulogne. 
 
 “ The Seine has not been at all considered as a feature of 
 this view. It must not be understood, however, that it sup¬ 
 plied no important part of it. For, alternately glinting with 
 silver under the outbreaking sun, and lying in sullen gloom 
 under the momentary thickness of the clouds, the little his¬ 
 toric stream well played its part in the pageant. The little 
 steamboats, even at that early hour crowded with passengers, 
 went puffing up and down and in every direction ; and every¬ 
 thing else in the shape of a boat darted and glanced and glided 
 about, most of them, at the distance, looking like so many 
 shuttle-bugs of the American brooks, various in color, and 
 with specially long legs and antennae supplied by the long 
 sweep of the oars. What anyone expected to know of the 
 Exposition by going out in a boat where none of its operations 
 could be seen, is perhaps a problem ; but all the same the 
 aquatic exercise was general, and all the same it added mater¬ 
 ially to the liveliness of a spectacle that even Paris has not 
 often excelled in the very oddity of variety joined to the abso¬ 
 lute embarrassment of extent.” 
 
VI. 
 
 TIIE OPENING OF THE EXPOSITION.— (Continued.) 
 
 “ I am inclined to think (ana-Tom-ically) that when any 
 building is erected, intended for great public uses, it is a good 
 thing to have some balcony or piazza connected with it, 
 sufficiently large and prominent to allow of any outdoor 
 gathering on it that may become a necessity in connection 
 with that building. The builders of our Capitol, at Washing¬ 
 ton, had the same idea, and hence the mighty piazzas on which 
 so large a part of the Presidential inauguration ceremonies are 
 conducted. The people who put up the Main Building at the 
 Philadelphia Centennial Grounds (they tell me) did 7iot have 
 this idea, and hence the necessity, for the opening there, of 
 temporary platforms bringing into use pretty nearly all the 
 planks in the lumber-dealing Quaker City. The people who 
 arranged and built the Trocadero Palace were wiser than their 
 brothers at Philadelphia, and in the colonnaded balconies of 
 that erection supplied a permanent platform for any meetings 
 and any exhibitions likely to occur there within the next 
 century or two at least. And yet, another and a temporary 
 platform, or “tribune,” as Republican France chooses to call 
 it, was erected still in front, where, had there been any possi¬ 
 bility of eclipsing the magnificent view from the front of the 
 building proper, that advantage would certainly have been 
 secured. A most substantial structure, so hung with red cloth 
 and silver, and so decorated with the involved colors of all 
 the prominent nations of the earth, that it needed a keen eye 
 to recognize that it was actually other than part of the oddly 
 beautiful and beautifully odd building which it fronted. 
 
 “ Some arrivals and introductions, however, of no secondary 
 consequence, were to take place elsewhere than on that 
 balcony; and again my indescribable privilege came into use, 
 and my retiring modesty went into the background on the 
 necessity of witnessing those preliminaries. 
 
THE OPENING OF THE EXPOSITION. 
 
 41 
 
 “The reception saloon of the Trocadero, fitted up especially 
 for the gathering of notables, had scarlet furniture and uphols¬ 
 tery, but exhibited a feature appealing to the most aesthetic 
 taste as well as the more ordinary, in being hung with Gobelin 
 tapestry to an extent ot richness and luxury rarely paralleled 
 in the history of decoration. (Those who pass through the 
 Trocadero Palace, with due observation, later in the season, 
 will know that probably no such gathering of this inesti¬ 
 mable luxury in hangings, has ever before been formed, 
 to delight human eyes, at once, in all the ages.) The eye 
 that saw can scarcely recall, even the hour after, the effect 
 in color, in such a chamber, of the brilliant uniforms that 
 began to fill it very soon after the opening of the main 
 entrance, and that before the arrival of the President had 
 culminated in a blaze of rich light and costly glitter impossible 
 to describe, and tasking the very strength of conception. 
 
 “ Writing especially for Americans, I have no apologies to 
 make for first noticing, among the official arrivals, three 
 whom good fortune or excellent management brought to¬ 
 gether in the right place at the right time. Minister Noyes, 
 of the American mission to France, could not well be absent 
 at a period so important to so many of his countrymen. His 
 good-looking face seemed a little shadowed, I thought, by the 
 pesterations that had followed him from home, and that I 
 hope he may be able to brush away, like so many gad-flies, 
 before the season is over. But it was good to see the tall 
 form, high brow and benevolent face of Philadelphia John 
 Welsh, American Minister to England, close beside him, and to 
 recognize the propriety ot the man who seems to have done 
 so much (so they all tell me) for the Centennial Exhibition at 
 home, standing in a position of honor, to give the counte¬ 
 nance of a stainless life and a noble record to this abroad, 
 however accredited beyond the Channel. But there was still 
 another, and this third face set me to thinking as I had not 
 before done in many a day. Bayard Taylor, Minister to Ger¬ 
 many, was the third of this special group ; and what a field 
 for thought, even for others than myself, was embodied in the 
 
42 
 
 PARIS IX 78 . 
 
 stout form, the thinning hair, and the kindly face with the 
 eyes so heavily drawn down at the corners ! I have the 
 ‘ Views-a-Foot ’ among the American books of my little 
 library on the Nesenbach ; perhaps you know, as well as any 
 other, how I came by it and by my somewhat intimate knowl¬ 
 edge of a man so much older than myself, who has lived a 
 romance while he travelled over nearly the known world, 
 and who seems to have no enemies to leaven his troops of 
 friends. May of 1878 . Through what had this man passed, 
 since (it must have been in 1846 , though I can find no date to 
 the pencilling) he first set foot in Paris, and wrote of it; 
 
 ‘ What a gay little world in miniature this is ! I wonder not 
 that the French, with their exuberant gayety of spirit, should 
 revel in its ceaseless tides of pleasure, as if it were an earthly 
 elysium.’ Little, then, could the bright-faced and curly- 
 haired boy, whose picture, with alpenstock in hand and blouse 
 on shoulder, looks out at me every time I open the old book 
 with its broken binding—little, I say, could the poor young 
 fellow, whose limited means more than once blocked him on 
 his way and eventually sent him home with what he then 
 believed so much of the Old World abandoned unseen for¬ 
 ever-little could he have foreseen the day when, gray and 
 honored, he should carry the weight of one of the most 
 important missions in the world on those same shoulders, 
 and stand in such a scene as this, among the notable and 
 specially-observed where all were notable. I do not know 
 him, personally ; I may never know him more nearly ; and 
 yet I ‘ confirm ’ his appointment to that mission, quite as 
 cordially as they say that the Senate did, not for any political 
 or diplomatic power that he may possess, but because he has 
 written, most of them long ago, the ‘ Crusades,’ (over the hat, 
 coat and sword of Godfrey of Bouillon, in the Imperial Armory 
 at Vienna), ‘Sunken Treasures,’ the ‘ Requiem in the North,’ 
 and that sweetest recognition of the sweetest song in all love- 
 music, ‘Annie Laurie,’ in the ‘ Song of the Camp.’ And if, 
 th rougbout the ceremonies of the day, I more than once 
 looked away from the decorations of others to gaze again on 
 
THE OPENING OF THE EXPOSITION. 
 
 43 
 
 the Minister of the United States at Berlin, take notice (and 
 he may take notice, too, if he ever glances over this) that I 
 was not observing the diplomat, the novelist, or the German 
 scholar of America, but the i boy-traveller and the poet! * 
 
 “There were several other ambassadors; but the most 
 noticeable among them, if not the most notable, were Prince 
 Orloff, tall and stately, wearing a Russian General’s uniform 
 which fitted him like a glove ; the Japanese Ambassador, who 
 conceded to the West by wearing a European court dress ; and 
 the Chinese, who presented a marked contrast by wearing the 
 flowing silk robes of the Flowery Land, very much to the ad¬ 
 miration of all eyes in search of the picturesque. 
 
 “ The royal personages arrived with a punctuality at least 
 showing that their duties if not their hearts lay with the cere¬ 
 mony. Madame La Marechale MacMahon, Duchess de Ma¬ 
 genta and wife of the Marshal President, claims the first place. 
 She came accompanied by her son, a stripling of indefinable 
 age, and was received with much courtesy and no little warmth. 
 With gray hair, as became the years that must be somewhat 
 past sixty, she carries those years well, and has a stately 
 dignity which well becomes the woman for the time the ‘ First 
 Lady of France.’ She was closely followed by a woman who 
 has probably attracted as many eyes and caused as much con¬ 
 versation as any other female on the globe—ex-Queen Isabella 
 of Spain, who used to be so fond of sweets and all the other 
 belongings of riotous girlhood, that they nick-named her ‘ Is¬ 
 abel Bon Bon.’ She must be past fifty, now, is stout, and has 
 never been handsome, but is and has been undeniably attrac¬ 
 tive as well as more than a little notorious. Her husband, 
 Don Fran 9 ois d’Assis, came later with the grave and stately 
 Spanish Embassy, the members of which seemed to have been 
 lately at West Point, if one could judge by the ramrody up¬ 
 rightness of their carriage. Looking at that quiet but manceu- 
 vering prince, and then glancing at the ex-Oueen, it was not 
 very difficult to see how and why the gray mare had been the 
 better horse during all the continuance of that ill-omened pol¬ 
 itical marriage, which, after all, may have had one good result 
 
 * 1 he regretted later death of Mr. Taylor, does not necessitate any change in the pre¬ 
 ceding, but requires this notic... 
 
44 
 
 PARIS IN 78 . 
 
 in so clever a young fellow as the boy King Alfonso, who 
 has carried himself steadily since his accession, curbed his 
 dangerous mother, and made an undeniable love-match of 
 pleasant promise with school-girl Mercedes of Montpensier. 
 
 “ Spanish royalty, or the ramifications of it, did not end here, 
 however ; for directly came an ex-King of that lively country, 
 in Prince Amadeus of Savoy, son of my old idol, Victor Em¬ 
 manuel, and looking something like a reduced copy of that 
 homely and straightforward hunter of wolves and enemies of 
 Italian unity, whom I saw seven years ago, at Florence, driv¬ 
 ing in an old battered caleche that would have been relegated 
 to the back yard by any carriage-maker with a conscience, 
 and with a span of horses of the calibre of the Third avenue 
 railroad. Don’t imagine this to be intended for disrespect. 
 While Victor Emmanuel lived, I never failed to lift my hat on 
 coming into the presence of the Italian flag, which typed for 
 me not only the glory ol the old Latin peninsula, but the per¬ 
 sonal status of the odd human being who was what they called 
 him—the ‘ Re Galantuomo.' Prince Amadeus has much of the 
 atmosphere of the dead king; and he was received, on this 
 occasion, not only warmly, but almost with effusion, as was his 
 younger and finer-looking brother, the Duke of Aosta. 
 
 “Not long after the Italian princes, came Prince William of 
 Orange, heir apparent of Holland, a pleasant-looking young 
 man, with no specialty demanding description, accompanied 
 by his uncle, Prince Henry of Holland, the better looking 
 man of the two, if the years could have been equalized. 
 
 “ But all this, to me, after a few moments was neutralized 
 by another arrival—that of one in whom I happened to take a 
 peculiar interest, from causes that lie too deep down lor me to be 
 able to explain them, and that consequently may puzzle some 
 one else than myself. Albert Edward, Prince of Wales, and 
 heir apparent to that mightv Empire which now has an Em¬ 
 press-Queen at the head of it—as also President of the English 
 Commission at the Exposition—came in a state carriage, with 
 a brilliant retinue, and excited far less of attention than of 
 pleasure, from the very fact that he has never made a distant 
 
THE OPENING OF THE EXPOSITION. 
 
 43 
 
 lay monarchical figure of himself, but gone very far towards 
 being a ‘ man of the people.’ 
 
 “ How well I remember the day when we, of America, 
 received young Albert Edward, Prince of Wales, in New York! 
 We, though I was at the time only a boy of twelve, with no 
 idea that I should ever (hem !) have the honor of acting as 
 special foreign correspondent to so dignified a person as the 
 Governor, then already nearly antiquated and holding the high 
 dignity of being a clerk in the New York City Hall, and one 
 of the editors of the official Leader ! (By the way, if I mistake 
 not, that same Governor was concerned in a somewhat 
 complimentary blunder on the part of His Royal Highness, 
 who could not believe that any one of less dignity than a 
 high city official, or a national statesman, would thrust him¬ 
 self so far forward as the said Governor did, without occasion, 
 and who consequently gave him, the said Governor, the lowest 
 of bows and the warmest of hand-shakes, immediately after 
 similarly greeting the President of the Board of Aldermen and 
 Acting Mayor—was not his name Peck ? It seems to me that 
 some of the newspapers amused themselves over it at the 
 time ; am I not correct in my recollection ?) 
 
 “ But to return to what I personally know of that reception, 
 I was only a boy, as I have already said ; but I went out with 
 my mother and some other members of the family, in a car¬ 
 riage, and saw what 1 believe to have been the very best pro¬ 
 cession and the most enthusiastic gathering that New York 
 ever knew. We accompanied the procession for a considera¬ 
 ble distance, and saw all that was to be seen, you may make 
 up your mind to that effect! What awfully bad hats the Duke 
 of Newcastle and some of the others did wear ! and how 
 straight in the brim was the ‘tile ’ of Lord Lyons, who looked 
 sombre enough, I remember, to have been accompanying one 
 of his own family to execution, instead of the son of his Oueen 
 in the reception of honors abroad. All this by the way : I am 
 getting off, again, from the appearance of the boy-prince, as I 
 saw him that day with the eyes of a boy-New Yorker: as I 
 saw him, and liked him from the first glance. 
 
4G 
 
 PARIS IN ’78. 
 
 “ What I heard an old gentleman in the crowd say of him, 
 was, indeed, true: ‘a fine-looking, mannerly young fellow, 
 showing good blood and good bringing up ! ’ said that old per¬ 
 son, using the words of home life ; and they told the whole 
 story. He was not especially bright-looking, with that well- 
 cut boy face, the nose a trifle prominent, and the eyes steel- 
 blue (at least they looked so) under the short cut Saxon hair. 
 Not especially bright looking, but decidedly^rwf looking, and 
 carrying an amount of unobtrusive dignity that would not 
 have sat so well upon most young fellows of nineteen. I was 
 pleased with his appearance, then ; I have been pleased with 
 his appearance more and more, in the several times that I have 
 since seen him in England and on the Continent. I have 
 watched his career very closely—I suppose, chiefly because he 
 was the first scion of royalty whom I happened to see ; and I 
 think that I have known him better, all the while, than most 
 of those who wrote or spoke of him. 
 
 “ Has he been a trifle wild—this man who is one day, if God 
 please, to be King of England ? Probably. Introduce me to 
 the young man who, under corresponding circumstances, 
 would have been less so, and I will pay him a lower reverence 
 than any king living. Meanwhile, he has done what all of us 
 do not do, I am afraid—ripened with his years. In the midst 
 oi the abuses and undervaluation of half England—not on 
 account of it—he has grown more manly day by day, and 
 thrown by, at a very early period, the lighter frivolities of his 
 nature. He has interested himself in more of the industries 
 of the kingdom one day to be his, than any man who ever pre¬ 
 ceded him ; he has travelled more extensively, and apparently 
 more intelligently, than all of them put together; and he has 
 done more, as President of the English Commission, to aid 
 France in this show of 1878, and to induce English manufac¬ 
 turers and English artists to join in it, than any other man 
 could have done, or any other man would have tried to do. 
 And so, and partly on account of all this, I say that England, 
 in the prospect of having what your poor friend and ex¬ 
 publisher, Beeton, called an ‘ Edward the Seventh,’ has no 
 
THE OPENING OF THE EXPOSITION. 
 
 47 
 
 unpleasant future in store in the detail of her monarchy. She 
 will have a useful and a conscientious king, in my opinion, 
 All the better, beyond a question, if his throne is shared by 
 that Alexandra whose sweet personal atmosphere has won so 
 many English hearts, while doing her duty so womanfully in 
 guarding against any failure in succession. 
 
 “ I begin to think, now, that England, very obtuse for so 
 many years, has her eyes open to the omens of her royalty. 
 Perhaps the change began some years ago, when the awful 
 tragedy of bad ventilation took place at Lord Londesborough’s 
 seat on the Yorkshire coast, and when the Heir of England 
 came so near to dying on a fever-bed in the very flower of his 
 youth. I happened to be in London when the bulletins were 
 hourly coming, announcing that the Prince of Wales would 
 live; that he would not; that he might; that he would, unques¬ 
 tionably ; and so I chanced to see the faces of some who at that 
 moment first knew how much they cared for the life so little 
 valued previously. And since then, I think that the balance 
 has been more evenly hung than ever before—not the less 
 evenly, perhaps, of late, because tire Prince is understood to 
 be in close intimacy with Lord Beaconsfield, who at the pres¬ 
 ent moment guides many of the best hopes of Englishmen, 
 which the Prince may merely embody. 
 
 “All this, without my having as yet said a word of the 
 appearance of the Prince, as that day he came, with his bril¬ 
 liant retinue, to the hall of reception. And for this only a few 
 words must suffice. The stripling of i860 has grown to be the 
 stout man of 1878. His face is full, with luxuriant brown 
 beard and moustache worn at moderate length, and the brown 
 hair enough worn away from the brow to indicate fifty instead 
 of thirty-seven, and eventual baldness as a certainty. But the 
 blue eyes are the same as those of the boy ; and the whole fine- 
 looking if not strictly handsome face and figure tell merely of 
 the rapid changing, under a hot sun, of eighteen years. He 
 wore, on this occasion, the scarlet of a Field Marshal, with 
 only a single order of other decoration ; showed all the kindly 
 courtesy of his nature in receiving the warm recognitions 
 
48 
 
 PARIS IN ’78. 
 
 accorded him, and bore with him at the moment a pleasant 
 remembrance of the peerless princess left behind him. in the 
 company of her brother, who, though stouter and browner, 
 might in face almost have been her twin—Frederick, Crown 
 Prince of Denmark, who leaned upon his arm. 
 
 “ There were yet more notables—but how shall I name them 
 all without exceeding my limit in postage ?—more who came 
 into the saloon before the arrival of the President. Let them 
 be ‘ understood,’ even if I did not understand them all and if 
 your readers fail to do so. One man, however, deserves to 
 be mentioned, especially at this moment and in advance of 
 another man who is coming—Francois Certain de Canrobert, 
 Marshal of that name, and only second to the Marshal-Presi¬ 
 dent, if second to him at all, in his connection with French 
 glories of what may be called the ‘ middle period.’ Marshal 
 Canrobert, gray almost to the verge of whiteness, came limping 
 in at a little before two ; and every one in the apartment, except 
 possibly there may have been a few of those who too well 
 remembered and hated the events of December, 1852, bowed to 
 the old warrior. With him, it seemed to me, came in Algiers, 
 the Crimea and Italy, all necessary to be remembered when 
 speaking of the later military glory of France. For it is more 
 than fifty years since this grand old soldier of seventy entered 
 at the military school of St. Cyr, and more than fifty-five have 
 passed since he commenced his epauletted career in Africa. 
 He has been long a terrible sufferer from the gout, hence the 
 limp already alluded to ; but who knows that its fierceness 
 and its location may not have been found in the mangling of 
 that leg in the terrible attack on Constantine, in October, 
 1837, which won him the cross of the Legion of Honor! This 
 was the man, I remembered, who commanded at the terrible 
 Pass of Djerma ; who literally annihilated the Kabyles ; who 
 for the time forgot that he was Commander-in-Chief at Inker- 
 mann, plunged into the thickest of that fight, had a horse 
 killed under him, received another serious wound, and bore it 
 home to France with his resignation to Pellissier and as his 
 warrant for a Marshalship of France and the Grand Cross of 
 the Order of the Bath. 
 
THE OTENING OF THE EXPOSITION, 
 
 49 
 
 “Am I growing too military ? Perhaps so ; but the glories 
 even of the Second Empire stir me, and there must be more of 
 the same historico-military glimpses following very closely. If 
 you did not want them, why did you bother me at Stuttgart— 
 me, who consider the soldier as, next to the doctor, the most 
 useful and the most dangerous of men ? 
 
VII. 
 
 THE OPENING OF THE PARIS EXPOSITION. 
 
 ( Concluded.) 
 
 “ If there was any dependence to be placed on the noise 
 that we heard, even at the Trocadero Palace, the progress of 
 President MacMahon from his official residence at the Elysee 
 to the place of the opening, must have been one very grati¬ 
 fying to him, Some friends who were on the line afterwards 
 told me that the crowd, the whole way, was immense enough 
 to indicate that there could be nobody anywhere else ; and 
 the continued applause, they said, was quite sufficient to 
 indicate that the warrior as well as the President of the 
 Republic was warmly recognized. To all this hubbub of the 
 people there was of course to be added the continuous thun¬ 
 dering of cannon from the fortifications, from the Invalides, 
 and one of the islands in the Seine ; and to the life and color 
 of the Marshal-President's state carriage, surrounded by a 
 brilliant staff, there was also to be added the kaleidoscopic 
 variety of the gay dresses of the season among the liveliest 
 people upon earth, the fluttering of ten thousand flags and 
 streamers, and all the other visible emblems of Paris being at 
 the moment in a state of acute suffering from tele montee , or 
 rather tctc cxaltec, which to the English ear translates as light¬ 
 headedness ! 
 
 “ It was about two o'clock when the noise, which had for an 
 hour been terrific though distant, became redoubled in the 
 nearer approach of the President. Some culmination of 
 boom, hitherto held in reserve in the cannon, thundered out. 
 The noble band of the Garde Repnblicaine (you heard it, old 
 man, in 1867, as the band of the Garde Imperiale !*) broke out 
 with the ‘ Marseillaise,’ correcting itself the moment later 
 with something new-tangled that I did not know ; and from 
 
 * Yes, and heard it again. Tommy, in London, in 1871, as the Band of the Garde 
 Republicaine—not by any means improved. 
 
OPENING OF THE PARIS EXPOSITION. 
 
 51 
 
 without the cry came up, mingled hoarsely, as if rough men 
 did most of the shouting, ‘ Vive Mac Mahon. !' ' Vive la France T 
 ‘Vive la Rcpublique !' ‘Vive le President!' It was, of course, 
 treason in me to expect to hear that other cry which both you 
 and I had heard in other years, when the same crowd (materi¬ 
 ally) was shouting, and the same band playing: ‘Vive 
 TEmpereur !’ But my mental ears listened, and thought that 
 they heard it, as an undertone, possibly very much below the 
 breath, and perhaps (who knows?) never to be heard aloud 
 again in France. But all this by the way, and very irrelevant 
 to the opening of the Exposition ! 
 
 “ The Marshal-President was received at the grand entrance 
 on the Place du Roi de Rome, by the Prelect of the Seine and 
 all the officers of State, there in waiting, and there in all the 
 splendor capable of being communicated by colored cloths 
 and gold lace. The noise, which I could not avoid character¬ 
 izing, in my own mind, as the ‘ row,' redoubled ; the band let 
 out another link in melodious sound ; and the shouts were 
 near enough to deafening for any approach to comfort. A 
 moment of expectancy, not hushed, but flushed and fluttering, 
 and then the ruler of France, accompanied by his brilliant 
 staff, entered the saloon, greeted the distinguished company 
 there in waiting, and was very warmly received in return. 
 
 “You have personally seen Marie Edme Patrick Maurice, 
 Marshal de MacMahon and Duke of Magenta, so often, that 
 you may describe him at your leisure to those who read, if 
 you like. I need only say of him that he is above middle 
 height, a trifle stout, though looking rather gaunt than the 
 reverse, with an iron face, eyes that seem to have been gray in 
 his youth, and hair and moustache grayed almost to white. He 
 wore that day the full uniform of the Marshal, green and 
 white, with heavy embroidery and the Grand Cross of the 
 Legion of Honor ; and he bore in his hand, as he entered, a 
 plumed chapeau of which the ostrich feathers filling the sunken 
 crown would have made the eyes of one of your Fifth Avenue 
 belles dance with envy. A somewhat rough but grandly 
 soldierly-looking man, a year or two older than Marshal Can- 
 
 5 
 
52 
 
 PARIS IN ’78. 
 
 robert (seventy-one, in fact), but looking good for ten years 
 more of life, and not at all likely to fall from disease before the 
 end of his term in 1S80. 
 
 “ We have already contemplated, lately, one prominent 
 figure in French military history. Let us briefly contemplate 
 another, as there was nothing else at Paris, that day, better 
 worthy of the thought or the words. This man was of a race 
 (Irish—you may have heard of it in America !) that lost all, at 
 home, for the Stuart kings, and only sought a new home 
 beyond the Channel when Culloden had finished the melan¬ 
 choly story, forever. A race that had mingled in marriage with 
 some of the best blood of France, and in that description of 
 battle won the castle and estates once held by Maximilian de 
 Bethune, Duke of Sully and Prime Minister to Henry the Great. 
 A man who had personally been in the French service for nearly 
 five-and-fifty years, since his entry at St. Cyr ; who fought in 
 the Algerian wars so long back as 1S30, took part with Achard 
 in the Antwerp expedition of 1832, shared in the assault on 
 Constantine in 1837, and commanded at the storming of the 
 Malakoff, in that crowning success of the war in the Crimea. 
 A Grand Cross of the Legion of Honor; a Knight Grand Cross 
 of the Bath—both for those services in the Crimea. The com¬ 
 mander who really bore the brunt in the fight for Italy’s 
 freedom and unity, with a splendid share in most of the battles 
 of that campaign, and received both the baton of a Marshal 
 and the Dukedom of Magenta as acknowledgments of his 
 victorious command in the crowning conflict of the latter 
 name. 
 
 “ Surely a glorious record this ! And surely I was a little 
 excusable at the moment of his entrance, if I forgot, in the 
 embodiment of forty years military history which he presented,, 
 that he had failed, like all others, matched against Von Moltke 
 and the needle-gun of Germany in 1870-71. I did not know 
 then, and I do not know to-day and thinking over the 
 question, what the grave and gray old Marshal really 
 represents—the Republic ? the interests of the Bonapartes, 
 concentrated in the Prince Imperial ? or the Bourbon interest 
 
OPENING OF THE PARTS EXPOSITION. 
 
 53 
 
 that has bidden very high for him at times? ' Who can say 
 whether he represents either, and if so, which ; or whether he 
 is simply Marshal Edme Patrick MacMahon, fighting ‘for his 
 own hand,’ and doing it very successfully, with an amount of 
 quiet intellect not suspected by the factions attempting to 
 manage him ? Not being at all sure whether he may not tire 
 of governing (no, merely attempting to govern) a certain 
 number of millions of irascible Frenchmen, before 1880—or 
 whether he may not choose to continue to govern them after 
 that time—I merely make my bow to him, here, a very low one, 
 as I did on that occasion—I think without his being heavily 
 impressed with that proceeding on my part, possibly because 
 he did not see me ! 
 
 “ Within a few minutes after the arrival of the President, 
 and the interchange of greetings following, a procession was 
 formed, proceeding to the ‘ tribune ’ temporarily erected for 
 the occasion in the extreme front of the balcony, and already 
 described. And at the moment when they (and we) reached 
 that point, I may say that, in spite of the threatening clouds 
 and an occasional drop of rain to remind us of the oddest of 
 seasons, such a view, from that tribune and at that tribune, 
 was presented, as can very seldom be paralleled. All the 
 features of the first have been previously suggested if not 
 described ; those of the second may be imagined, with the 
 character of the occupation of the balcony remembered. 
 
 “ In the centre of the tribune the Marshal-President took 
 his seat. At his right were Don Francois d’Assis, the Prince 
 of Orange, and Prince Frederic of Denmark ; on his left were 
 the Prince of Wales, Prince Amadeus of Savoy, and the Duke 
 of Aosta. A little at the right, and slightly in the rear, sat 
 Madame MacMahon and ex-Queen Isabella. Clustered imme¬ 
 diately around and behind this group, were the whole body of 
 diplomats, with the German Ambassador, Prince Hohenlohe, 
 seeming the most conspicuous figure, perhaps because he 
 seemed an impossibility in that place, and with their embroid¬ 
 ery in costume kept well in countenance by the flash of 
 bullion on the uniforms, and the glitter of orders on the 
 
54 
 
 PARIS IN ’78. 
 
 breasts, of most of the first men of France—Marshals, Senators, 
 and others—whose names belong to history, and many of the 
 first men of Europe, holding equal claim to the world’s atten¬ 
 tion. Probably at no opening, since the commencement of 
 International Exhibitions, have there been on anyone platform 
 more men of note than were here visible during the short 
 period of the ceremonies. 
 
 “These ceremonies were, to say truth, quite equal to the 
 usual average in stupidity, though possibly answering their 
 place very well as ‘ the thing to do.’ The Marshal-President, 
 dauntless on so many battle-fields, looked a trifle frightened 
 from the beginning; and most of the others seemed more than 
 a trifle bored, as some disreputable people that I have known 
 do during a sermon or a service. M. Teisserenc de Bort, 
 Minister of Agriculture and Commerce, a stately man, without 
 the least claim to the character of an orator, read an address, 
 in which he stupidly and (as I think) inappropriately, more 
 or less sacrificed the Exposition on the altar of the Republic, 
 stating that the thought was first conceived almost at the 
 moment when that government was established ; deducing 
 theretrom the fact that in it the course of the government 
 was indicated and its dependence on the sympathies of the 
 world admitted. So far, beyond a question, M. de Bort was 
 talking bunkum, and pleading for the current torm of govern¬ 
 ment, which may or may not have meant for the continuance 
 of M. de Bort in office as Minister of Agriculture and 
 Commerce! Afterward, having better known ground to 
 tread, he read less inconsequently—stating that the Exhibition 
 was one which would make its mark by proving the virility 
 of the nation, and thanking the foreign countries which had 
 doubly honored France by sending forward their arts and 
 manufactures, and by affording the presence of their most 
 illustrious citizens and best-loved Princes. (There was a little 
 jar in this acknowledgment ofthe ‘ Princes ’ of other nations, 
 immediately after deifying a Republic ; but let that pass !) So 
 M. Teisserenc de Bort (whose godfathers ought to have been 
 indicted for giving him such a name at his christening) con- 
 
OPENING OF THE PARIS EXPOSITION. 
 
 55 
 
 eluded his blending of appropriate address and inappropriate 
 special plea ; and— 
 
 “ The Marshal-President, rising with an alacrity which 
 indicated that the address had bothered him quite long 
 enough, said (or in French to that effect) : 
 
 “ ‘ I desire to join in the sentiments expressed by the 
 Minister of Commerce. I offer my congratulations on the 
 magnificent result achieved, and of which I am happy to have 
 representatives from the whole world as witnesses. I join 
 also in thanking the foreign nations for so readily and nobly 
 responding to the appeal of France.’ 
 
 “ Then, advancing a step, and with a voice much louder than 
 that ot his previous words, he added : 
 
 “‘In the name of the French Republic, I declare the 
 Exposition opened !’ 
 
 “Then followed what could be called the apotheosis of the 
 whole Exposition. To judge by the noise which resulted, 
 there would seem to have been some undefinable doubt 
 remaining all the while, whether the Germans would not come 
 back again, or the royalists make a descent from the Fau¬ 
 bourg St. Honore, and the show, after all, never be opened. 
 But it was opened, now ; and the evidences of joy, which we 
 may assume to have somewhat blended the patriotic and the 
 pecuniary, were unmistakable. A burst of cheering rang out, 
 followed by another and another, that for a few moments 
 drowned the boom of the cannon which just then commenced 
 firing (for what reason the number I know not) a salute of 
 one hundred and one guns from each of the points where 
 they were stationed—at Valerien, the Invalides, &c. More 
 flags, of all the nations, went up on every pinnacle which had 
 as yet remained even partially bare. The fountains, thus far 
 kept a trifle low, commenced playing at their full height. An 
 hundred or two pieces of music burst out in unison and accord 
 (though here they did not bring back the three thousand 
 brass instruments that I once heard play together for the 
 Emperor in the Parc Francais). To make the scene, which was 
 reallyone of the most impressive ever known, much brighter 
 
56 
 
 PARIS IN ’78. 
 
 and more enjoyable, the sun broke out from a rift in the clouds 
 and gilded the Gardens, the Seine, the Exposition Palace, the 
 Paris away over yonder, everything within reach of the eye, 
 with its indispensable and ineffable glory. 
 
 “ ‘ Aren’t you glad you came ?’ demanded, sotto voce, a young¬ 
 ster of a certain noble family, who had admittance on the 
 tribune, and who chanced t.o know your humble but decided 
 correspondent. 
 
 “The saucy query was not answered at the moment, in the 
 fear of being heard and your correspondent ejected ; but I 
 can answer it now. The scene was one worth half a lifetime 
 to have enjoyed ; one ever to be remembered. Where else, 
 under the broad heaven, could such constituents for a notable 
 view have been found ? Under what other circumstances, 
 even here, could motion, light, sound, color, have been brought 
 into such overwhelming conjunction ? 
 
 “ I have nearly finished. The Marshal-President, his strong 
 but heavy old face brighter than it had before been since his 
 coming, thanked M. Krantz, the organizer, for the efforts 
 which had done so much to bring about this auspicious open, 
 ing. M. Krantz (so far as I could hear) principally respond¬ 
 ed in dumb show. Then followed the re-forming (don’t set 
 that word without a hyphen!) of the procession, which made 
 the circuit of the Trocadero, and then took its way down 
 the main allee of the height, and over the Pont de Jena to 
 the Main Palace, the Marshal on this occasion walking between 
 the Prince of Wales, on his right, and Prince Amadeus of 
 Savoy, on his left, with his retinue in all the brilliancy of 
 personality and costume before indicated, and many hundreds 
 in number—perhaps reaching nearly one thousand. A slight 
 dash of rain marred the effect, but only for a moment, as the 
 procession neared the Main Palace, the whole way to which 
 was splendidly kept by a body of troops on either side, in 
 excellent alignment. And when the procession reached the 
 front of the Main Palace, even the spectacle already ex¬ 
 hibited in the tribune was materially eclipsed, numbers now 
 become an element in the superiority. On the terrace, in 
 
OPENING OF THE PARIS EXPOSITION. 
 
 57 
 
 front of the statued facade, and beneath the flags of all 
 nations waving from the finials, were the body of French 
 Commissioners, the Council of State, Senators, Academicians, 
 the members of the Institute and the Legion of Honor, 
 Councils and Magistrates, and indeed every variety of officials 
 and deputies, in robes, flashing orders, rich uniforms, and every 
 detail appealing to the eye and the imagination. Did I say 
 that the scene from the Trocadero was matchless? If that at 
 the entrance of the Main Palace did not excel it, certainly it 
 rivalled it and any preceding having place within the century. 
 
 “ What need that I should describe the progress of the Pres¬ 
 ident and the procession through the Palace—a mere matter 
 of form, with little opportunity, and as little desire, for obser¬ 
 vation ? Nothing was quite ready; and the pressure of the 
 crowd, during portions of this progress, was inconvenient and 
 on the verge of being riotous, though never reaching that 
 point. The official body entered through the Grand Entrance, 
 and passed along the avenue in front of the facades of the 
 different nations (a point of description that you will better 
 understand after personal visit), in front of each of which stood 
 the Commission of the nation to which it belonged, with the 
 attaches connected. 
 
 “ I need not say that the progress was one succession of 
 greetings by and between the official body in movement and 
 the official bodies in waiting. Your America, ay, and my America, 
 may be glad always to remember that Commissioner-General 
 McCormick and his staff, with the marines appointed for the 
 American service during the Exposition, made a show among 
 the most creditable on the line,—and that the greeting, that day 
 of the Commission by the Marshal-President, was markedly 
 unhurried, appreciative and cordial. How much of this was 
 due to the erect figure and fine soldierly face of Governor 
 McCormick, who might himself have been a Marshal of France 
 if there was anything in the appearance of the strong, good- 
 humored face, with its close mustache—and how much to the 
 knowledge which the Marshal-President may have possessed, 
 that this was one of the men who ‘ wrote; about him in the 
 
58 
 
 PARIS IN ’78. 
 
 newspapers,’ from the Crimea—all this I am unable to guess: 
 it is enough to understand that America was known to be well 
 represented on the occasion, and that the man who knew so 
 much was the one whose good opinion was of the first con¬ 
 sequence. Then, through the French section, and to the 
 Military School, where the body of workmen were stationed 
 especially for the official review. Then, with the work of the 
 Opening actually done, to the Porte Rapp, ‘ and so home,’ as 
 good Mr. Pepys would have expressed it, the President taking 
 carriage thence to the Elysee, the procession dissolving into its 
 incongruous elements as he and the Princes disappeared, 
 and the spectacle becoming miscellaneous, as it was and is to 
 remain until the last day, October, 1878. 
 
 “There! I have told you the story of the Opening, Not 
 very artistically, and not too connectedly ; as how could I ? I 
 did not and could not see everything ; and I am not an artist, 
 except in bones! And not too brilliantly, as again, how 
 could I ? Iam not brilliant, thank all the powers watching 
 over stupidity ! I have simply done rvhat one of your own 
 stories represents the revivalist Summerfield as having done, 
 when set to curry off a horse by some one who thought that 
 he was a hostler. ‘ Perhaps I have not done it very well, 
 but I have done my best l' I have the pleasure of knowing that 
 I have finished (and finished for once and all, as you do not 
 catch me at it again!) while you have yet to begin, in any 
 attempt at describing the Exposition, with the points of 
 special interest which it presents to the world. And so 
 descriptively and as your correspondent— Vale!" 
 
■VIII. 
 
 THE EXPOSITION THAT WAS OPENED. 
 
 Thanks to “Tommy,” the Opening of the Exposition has 
 been described somewhat at length, even if all the words of 
 this peculiar correspondent have failed to convey many of the 
 peculiarities of such an occasion, which may be said, indeed, 
 to have the same habit of escaping, as the bubble on the cham¬ 
 pagne before it reaches the lips, or any subtle aroma when the 
 effort is made to examine too closely into its character. So 
 much done, it remains for the Governor, before temporarily 
 leaving the Exposition Palaces and Paris, to express his opin¬ 
 ion of the whole display in the gross, as he saw it—leaving 
 the details to be more carefully examined at a later point in 
 the volume, and at a later time in the Exposition itself, when 
 it may be said to have ripened in the completeness of every 
 point, in the number of visitors giving it attention, and in the 
 approach of those “ awards ” for which the whole display has 
 quite as much sprung into being as at any command of the 
 artistic or the manufacturing instinct. 
 
 Unquestionably this exhibition has been deficient in many 
 of the qualities which made the American Centennial one, at 
 Philadelphia, so extensive and so perfect. There has been by 
 no means so general a showing of the industries of all nations. 
 Germany, as already said, was entirely absent, except in the 
 pictures forwarded by the Emperor. Turkey (with Egypt 
 considered as a part) was also absent. Some of the other 
 countries by no means showed to the advantage which they 
 held in the Philadelphia Exhibition ; and the collection, as an 
 international one, developing the resources of all nations, 
 could not be considered the equal either of that at Phila¬ 
 delphia, that at Vienna in 1873, or that in the same spot in 
 1867. But in particulars it as far exceeded any of the others 
 as it fell short in the respect named. No such showing of the 
 industry and resources of any one nation has ever previously 
 
60 
 
 PARIS IN ’78. 
 
 been put before the eyes of the world, as that here made by 
 France. Her wealth in pictures, art, sculptures, jewelry, 
 velvets, silks, furniture, and indeed all objects of luxury in 
 trade, was truly bewildering ; and if nothing else was shown 
 than this single exhibit, the attraction would have been well 
 worth crossing the ocean to behold. With the advantage of 
 nearness, all the cities of the Republic have had the benefit 
 of special places, duly named, the collective industry and 
 wealth thus systematized ; and in the Pavilion of the City of 
 Paris the capital city has enjoyed exceptional advantages, not 
 before held by any of the exhibition-cities, yet well warranted 
 by her world of attractions for the public eye. Without 
 intending here to enter into any particulars, it must be said 
 that the single collection of the State jewels excelled in 
 brilliancy almost any one ever before made in the history of 
 exhibitions. France, nobly (as well as wisely) proved that in 
 her late misfortunes nothing of the spirit of her people, and 
 literally nothing of her immense resources, had been lost; and 
 in thus proving, the great end and aitn of the Exposition, so 
 far as she felt herself concerned, was accomplished. 
 
 England made a most extensive and splendid display in all 
 the walks of commerce and art. With her, too, however, 
 there was a feature dwarfing all other single characteristics. 
 The Prince of Wales, already at length spoken of by 
 “ Tommy,” as President of the English Commission, and one 
 of the great promoters of the enterprise, had on view the 
 magnificent collection of presents made to him in 1875, in 
 India; and in this wealth of gems and gold literally the whole 
 splendor of the Orient was shown at one ravishing view. In 
 home productions, it is questionable whether England has 
 been the more perfectly at her best in machinery or in 
 potteries. Certainly her display has been wondrously varied 
 in both—the one seeming to be of this new “ iron age,” and 
 the other fighting with the far past of Egypt. Then in carpets 
 she has shown enough, and enough of excellence, to lay a 
 strip for the luxury-loving foot, half around the world. Per" 
 haps after this detail, the most notable features have been 
 
THE EXPOSITION THAT WAS OPENED. 
 
 Cl 
 
 found in her cloths and velvets ; and next after these, her 
 furniture and upholstery. There may be occasion, in a much 
 later paper, to deal more closely with some of the English 
 productions, as with those of the other countries promi¬ 
 nently represented. 
 
 Germany absent and France already mentioned, Sweden 
 and Norway came nearest to England, and may next demand 
 a word. And in that word let it be said that if they surprised 
 all with the variety of their work in iron and the other metals, 
 in woolen and other textile fabrics at Philadelphia, they have 
 much more than equalled that surprise in the present instance. 
 Whatever the status of these northern countries, not many 
 years ago, in international exhibitions, it is sure that they 
 have taken high place now, and can hereafter hold it. 
 Scarcely the same, in comparison, can be said of Russia, in 
 whose exhibit, as was inevitable, furs, iron, and coarse and 
 heavy fabrics have largely predominated, with the domestic 
 arts by no means forgotten, and some exhibits of the finer 
 manufactures, showing that there is a rivalry with the more 
 southern countries of Europe, even on the banks of the 
 Neva. 
 
 As all visitors to the Exposition of 1867 will remember, 
 Austria found her finest representation that year in bronzes, 
 goldsmiths’ work, Bohemian glass, furniture and upholstery. 
 Very nearly the same may be said of the exhibit of 1878, in 
 which, perhaps, as much progress from the best of the past 
 has been shown, as by any other country in the whole array. 
 In glassware, especially, and scarcely less in bronzes, her 
 position has been deservedly a proud one,—while in the deco¬ 
 rations of her department there has been both lavish cost 
 and excellent taste. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to say that Italy has made a splen¬ 
 did display in statuary, bronzes, mosaics and glass ware. 
 Nothing more bewildering in blended profusion and excellence 
 has been shown at any exhibition, than the marbles of this 
 year, of some of which a New York lady said that “ the pro¬ 
 hibition against worshipping images was no longer in force ; 
 
62 
 
 PARIS IN 78. 
 
 she should adore idols, when made from Carrara marble by 
 Italian chisels, henceforward, and all the canons of the Church 
 could not stop her ! ” Scarcely less superb has been her dis¬ 
 play of mosaics, of which so rare a collection will be remem¬ 
 bered as at Philadelphia, to be here thrown quite into the 
 shade in variety if not in excellence. Certainly among the 
 very best honors of the exhibition, in what may be called art- 
 manufactures, rest with the realm of young King Humbert, 
 who may well take the appreciation of the season as a happy 
 omen. 
 
 We have crossed the Alps, to reach Italy, but must return 
 at least partially across them for a word of Switzerland, among 
 the best represented of the list, and worthily one of the five 
 countries (England, France, Belgium, Holland and Switzer¬ 
 land) for the display of the goods of which a sharp wit said 
 that “ the whole affair had been got up, with some of the other 
 countries as foils.” Zurich has rivalled Lyons with her velvets, 
 tapestries and silk goods ; Geneva has been at her best, in 
 watches, clocks, musical boxes, and all the peculiar goods of 
 her line; and she has shown potteries, laces, and a variety of 
 other goods of interest, tempering if not doing away with the 
 wood-carvings in which she will probably always stand pre¬ 
 eminent while she has cold winters, and deft-handed poor 
 peasants S’hut away in the bleak passes of her mountains. 
 
 Belgium has made an effective display in machinery, fire¬ 
 arms and indeed in all the uses and products of iron,—though 
 in the former detail, some of her best features of 1867 have not 
 been excelled or even equalled. Somewhat oddly, though 
 naturally for “ Flanders,” her greatest excellence has lain in a 
 manufacture the farthest opposite possible—laces, and other 
 fine voods more or less connected. In laces, as no other 
 country rivals Belgium, it may be said that no former year has 
 rivalled the splendor of her collection. But a step to Holland, 
 in the exhibit of which as much difference from the preceding 
 has been shown, as if a continent intervened. More home¬ 
 like; more closely appealing to the absolute needs of every day 
 —the exhibition of the Low Countries would be sadly defl- 
 
THE EXPOSITION THAT WAS OPENED. 
 
 63 
 
 cient if the government did not (with a propriety which some 
 others might well emulate) supply largely from its own re¬ 
 sources, and especially bring into view the continual reminder 
 that there are Dutch East Indies, and that they have a world 
 of products equally odd and attractive. 
 
 Something of the same character may be said of Spain, of 
 which the collection, exhibiting much marked engineering 
 skill, and some manufactures of admitted value, has still 
 shown nothing else so attractive to the eye of the ordinary 
 visitor, as some of the features derived from soil in the tropics. 
 This gives her an advantage, at once, over the somewhat 
 bald exhibit of Portugal, and establishes a connection, if not 
 a rivalry, with the exhibits of China and Japan, of which it 
 may be said that they were among the most perfect of all on 
 view. China, in the shapes and colors of her products, solid 
 and textile, has literally carried the luxury-loving heart cap¬ 
 tive, and made even the visiting hoodlums doubtful whether 
 it might be well to murder all the people who could do such 
 work as even the wood-carving of her department; and Japan, 
 in bronze, porcelain, tapestry and several other details than 
 the employment of her traditional varnishes, has shown 
 Europe and America, once more, that “every country,” as 
 well as “ every man to his trade,” has a meaning not destroy¬ 
 ed even if dimmed, by late progress. 
 
 The absence of Turkey and Egypt has been already noted, 
 —the burden of the Orient, remaining, lying literally upon 
 Persia, which showed herself quite capable of bearing it, in 
 shawls, rugs, carpets, and other fabrics, of silk, wool and cot¬ 
 ton, showing the warmth of her sun in colors and the cor¬ 
 responding warmth of the taste of her people. It need not be 
 said that these were only part of a collection really very 
 complete though in small space,—and that the Persian 
 decorations, having the Shah in view, were very rich and 
 elaborate. Tunis, Morocco, and some others of the quasi- 
 Oriental countries, had small spaces, very near to Persia, 
 and collections of a certain interest, though little marked 
 or worthy of special mention. 
 
64 
 
 PARIS IN ’ 78 . 
 
 Something needs to be said, in closing this very hasty 
 glance at countries other than America, of some of the other 
 absences —some of them nearly as conspicuous as were the 
 occasional silences of Coleridge or Macaulay. That both Tur¬ 
 key and Egypt should be missing from the array excited lit¬ 
 tle wonder, all circumstances considered ; but why Mexico, 
 very creditably represented at Philadelphia—and why Brazil, 
 so prominent there and with the personal presence of the Em- 
 porer, and his after progress through Europe, evidencing 
 that there was no lack of either power or will to go “ before the 
 world ? ”—and why, with Canada, as one of the British 
 Provinces, making a very fine display, even if not equal to 
 that at Philadelphia —why the absence of so many of the other 
 colonies waved over by the British flag, and with so much to 
 do and so much already done in sharing the labor-produc¬ 
 tion and the labor-market of the world ? These questions 
 must answer themselves, however, as they were obliged to do 
 many times during the season ; and we must pass to a 
 few words of the collective art-status of the Exposition. 
 
 In this important detail the aggregate collection, very much 
 larger than that at Philadelphia, and also very much larger 
 than that at Paris in 1867, has been better than the Cen¬ 
 tennial show, and yet very far removed from the great excel¬ 
 lence of the Parisian one of the latter year. The extensive 
 galleries may be said to have been well filled throughout; and 
 there have been very few pictures to which the most captious 
 could object; but in great works, the feeling has been uni¬ 
 versal, alike in going through the first gallery and leaving the 
 last—that they were missing: that the different countries had 
 fallen back in the scale of their productions, or that they had 
 grown a little treed of sending their very best. This 6f pictures 
 only, be it understood ; in antique arts, of a certain class, this 
 exhibition has been beyond all others: the eye of man has 
 never before looked, in any one spot, on so glorious a collec¬ 
 tion of Gobelin and other tapestries, as that shown in the 
 Trocadero Palace ; and in many other walks of antiquity pure 
 and simple, yet related to art, the Trocadero has also held a 
 wondrous collection in both curiosity and value. 
 
THE EXPOSITION THAT WAS OPENED. 
 
 65 
 
 America still for the moment out of the calculation, the 
 exercise of the comparative faculty, however ungracious, must 
 be allowed. The temptation is irresistible, to extract a page 
 or two from a work of the close of 1867, showing a few of the 
 leading pictures on the walls of that great circle which so many 
 trod wearily but with undying interest; and in the light thus 
 afforded, perhaps a more intelligent view can be caught, than 
 otherwise, of the corresponding works of ’78: 
 
 It has. been no ordinary privilege to look up in succession to walls 
 bearing pieces presented as worthy the status of reputation, by such artists 
 as ^ French —Rosa Bonheur (“Scottish Razzia,” “Stags,” &c.) ; Meis- 
 sonnier (“Expectations,” ‘‘The Emperor at Solferino,” “Campaign of 
 France,” “ Cavalier Drinking,” &c.) ; Winterhalter (originals of the famous 
 “Napoleon III. ’ and “ Eugenie ”) ; Cabanel (“ Birth of Venus,” “Nymph 
 and Fawn,” &c.) ; Gerome (“The Gladiators, ” “Duel after the Masque¬ 
 rade,” “ Phryne before the Tribunal,” “Death of Caesar,” &c.) ; Rousseau 
 (“ Pass of Apremont,” “ Autumn,” “ Evening after the Rain,” &c.) ; Bouge- 
 reau ; Corot (“Witches in Macbeth,” “Ruins of Pierrefonds,” &c.) ; 
 Lambinet (“Banks of the Ivette ”) ; D'Aubigny (“Valley” and “Village 
 of Opteros,” “Banks of the Oise,”&c.); Iluet (“Equinoctial Tide at 
 Honfleur,” “Groves of Normandy,” ‘ Wood of La Kaye,” &cD ; Merle ; 
 Courbet; Comte Calix (“The Old Friend”) ; Yvon (“Taking of the 
 Malakoff”—Versailles Gallery, and “Convoy of Wounded”) ; Plassan ; 
 and August Bonheur (“Souvenirs of the Pyrenees” and “Auvergne”). 
 By German — Knaus (“Shoemaker’s Wife,” “Peasant Girl,” “Boy 
 Shoemakers,” &c.) ; Baron Leys (“Lancelot von Ursel,” “Archduke 
 Charles,” “ Publication of Edict in Antwerp,” “Conference in the Refor¬ 
 mation, ’ &c. —principally from his great frescoes at Antwerp) ; Andreas 
 and Oswald Achenbach (“Amsterdam” and “Port of Ostend,” and 
 “ Rocca de Papa”) ; Kaulbach (colossal picture of the “Reformation” 
 and Portraits); Piloty (“Death of Caesar,’ “Before Weissenberg,” 
 “Godfrey de Bouillon,” &c.' ; Sigismund L’Allemand ; Matejieko (“Diet 
 of Warsaw ”) ; Baugniet ; Tschaggeny ; Stevens and Willems (“Visit of 
 Marie de Medecis to Rubens,” “ The Armourer,” “The Adieux,” &c.) 
 By Italian —Induno (“Letter from the Camp”); Hayez (“ Massacre of 
 St, Bartholomew”); Gastaldi (“Defense of Tortona ”) ; the Gambas 
 (“Victor Amadeus succoring Carmagnola,” and “Beach at Cheve- 
 ningen ”). B y Dutch — Von Schendel (“Christmas Night,” “Holy 
 Family,” • ‘ Dutch Market at Night,” “Angel Gabriel ” and “ Virgin, ” &c.) ; 
 
PARIS IN 78 . 
 
 6(5 
 
 Meyer(“Coast of France,” Coast of England, &c.) ; and Haas(“Plains 
 in Holland,” “ Before the Storm,” &c.). By Spanish —-Alvarez (“Indul¬ 
 gences ”) ; Gilbert (“Landingof the Pilgrims ”—American—“ Meeting of 
 Francis I. and Eleanor of Austria,” Portraits, &c.) ; and Ruiperez ( genre 
 pieces). By Swedish —Hoeckert (“Fire in the Palace of Stockholm ”) ; 
 and Jernberg (“Bear at the Fair,” “Westphalian Costumes,” &c.). By 
 Russian —Bogoliouboff (“Naval Combat,” “Bombardment of Petropau- 
 lowsky,” &c.) ; Clodt (Landscapes) ; and Proff Village Funeral” and 
 “First Uniform”). And by English — Faed (“His only Pair”); 
 Frith (“Claude Duval ’ —not equal to either his “ Derby Day” or “Rail¬ 
 way Station”) ; Landseer (“Shrew Tamed”) ; Calderon (“Her Most 
 Noble, High and Puissant Grace”); Hunt (“Afterglow in Egypt”); 
 Ansdell (“Treading out the Corn ’) ; Millias (“Eve of St. Agnes,” and 
 “ Romans Leaving Britain”); Davis (“Spring Time in the Pas de Calais”); 
 O’Neill (“Eastward, Ho!”) ; and Sant (“The Fir.-t Sense of Sorrow.”) 
 
 To this must be added, as the addition cannot otherwise 
 come so well in place, a selection, made from the same work, 
 of thirty-six out of seventy-five oil paintings exhibited by 
 American painters in 1867 : 
 
 Beard’s “Dancing Bears”; Bierstadt’s “Rocky Mountains”; Casilear’s 
 “Plains of Genesee”; Church’s “Niagara” and “Rainy Season in the 
 Tropics”; Durand’s “In the Wood ’; Elliott’s “Fletcher Harper’ ; Gig- 
 noux’s ‘ Mount Washington ”; Henry Peters Grey's “ Apple of Discord ”; 
 Hubbard’s “ Adirondacks ”; Huntingdon’s “ Republican Court ”; Eastman 
 Johnson’s “ Old Kentucky Home,” “Violin Player” and ‘ ■ Sunday Morning ”; 
 Kensett’s “ Lake George in Autumn,” “ Opening in the White Mountains ” 
 and “Morning on the Coast of Massachusetts”; Leutze’s “Mary Stuart 
 Hearing Mass ”; Wier’s “ Gun Foundry ”; Edmund White’s “ Recollections 
 of Siberia ”; MacEntee’s “ End of October ” and “ Autumn in the Woods of 
 Asshokan”; Mignot’s “Sources of the Susquehanna”; James M. Hart’s 
 “Connecticut River”; Gifford's “Twilight on Mount Hunter”; Ilealy's 
 “General Sherman”; Winslow Homer’s “Confederate Prisoners”; W. M. 
 Hunt’s “Indian Boys”; Geo. Inness’ “Sunset in America”; Lambdin’s 
 “Last Sleep”; May’s “Lear and Cordelia ’; Moran’s “Autumn in Penn¬ 
 sylvania”; W. T. Richards’ “Foggy Day at Nantucket ”; Whittridge’s 
 “Coast of Rhode Island”; and George A. Baker’s two “ Portraits.” 
 
 This somewhat long reminiscence must end here; and this 
 paper must close with a few words of the American exhibit 
 
THE EXPOSITION THAT WAS OPENED 
 
 67 
 
 of 1878, merely grouped as a whole, and leaving all particulars 
 for concluding papers, later on in this volume as well as in the 
 season. 
 
 The position of America, in this exhibition, has been some¬ 
 thing anomalous; and the peculiarities of anomalies are by no 
 means easy to describe. Never before has the nation won 
 more honors, pitted against the world ; never before, probably, 
 has she better deserved all the honors won ; and yet never 
 before, in any international show enlisting her participation, 
 has there been a more constant succession of remembrances 
 of better things before. In nearly every department, while nearly 
 every department has shown much excellence, there has been 
 an absence of some of the grander features which made so 
 much of our celebrity in former exhibitions. The want of the 
 Grant Locomotive, which supplied our crowning triumph in 
 1867, and of both Steinway’s and Chickering’s pianos, always 
 and everywhere themes of pride and congratulation, may be 
 noted as leading instances in point. 
 
 But in other departments, and sometimes in the same show¬ 
 ing those absences, we have been exceptionally strong and 
 occasionally brilliant. Perhaps it may be said that, the special 
 triumph of Edison, the event of the year, out of the way— 
 we have surprised Europe and the world, most of all with our 
 school and school-book systems and appliances, in which 
 certainly no former exhibition could for one moment compare 
 with the number and variety contributed from the different 
 States, by those States themselves, by colleges, schools, and 
 every form of educational institution. Next to this, unquestion¬ 
 ably comes the immense variety and great excellence of our 
 labor-saving machinery, agricultural and mechanical, in which 
 we have stood even more assuredly at the head of all the nations 
 of the world in their regard than at any previous period, 
 though really holding the same position during the last dozen 
 years. (This year, for the first, the public papers, even of 
 England, have gracefully admitted the fact; and this constitutes 
 an actual bestowment of the “blue ribbon,” remembering the 
 source of the compliment.) 
 
G8 
 
 PARIS IN ’78. 
 
 In watches, plated ware, and cognate manufactures, though 
 with very few exhibits, we have quite as unquestionably taken 
 our place at the head, even if we did not secure the same ac¬ 
 knowledgment at the Centennial Exhibition. In fire-arms we 
 have stood among the first, if even matched by England, 
 France or Belgium. In sewing-machines we have held much 
 less prominence than in 1867, at the same time that we have 
 shown some of the very best of any country or age. In musi¬ 
 cal instruments, while weak in the number of exhibitors, we 
 have held excellent place as to variety and character. In 
 books we have been especially strong, some of our leading 
 book-makers having taken part, though others not less worthy 
 have held back and seriously impaired the “might have been.” 
 So of furniture, of which we manufacture some of the best in 
 the world, but have shown very little in comparison with our 
 opportunities. And so of textile fabrics, cloths, domestics, 
 carpets, &c., in which the world has at last come to know that 
 we have few or no superiors, but of which our display has 
 blended the excellent and the meagre. In photographs we 
 have exhibited much excellence, though again with the ab¬ 
 sence of several who should have borne a full share of the 
 honors, and with a notable lack of the glorious scenery-pho¬ 
 tographs which could have astonished the world. In physical 
 manufactures and appliances we, who have so many command¬ 
 ing applause and ameliorating the human condition, have 
 shown some other collections at least worthy of notice, but 
 principally depended upon our unequalled display of dentists' 
 work, as if our whole life was gastronomic. (This does not 
 apply, however, if the splendid humanitarian collection of Dr. 
 Evans, of Paris—really American—is taken into the account.) 
 
 This list is not intended to be a complete one, and it is not 
 so. We have not dealt with names, reserving that task for a 
 later paper. Edison, as the meteor of the time, who may yet 
 become a fixed star, has been mentioned: so let Pullman and 
 Stephenson be, with their differing “cars” which are rea.lly 
 “palaces;” and let us say that with them, and Fairbanks' 
 scales, and the Philadelphia and Reading locomotives, and the 
 
THE EXPOSITION THAT WAS OPENED. 
 
 69 
 
 wines and grains of our North and West, and the mineral 
 treasures of the Pacific coast, we may almost pardon the 
 absence of many things that should have been on view — 
 some of our very creditable ceramics not among the least 
 important. 
 
 Our collections, in a word, have been by no means complete, 
 even as this hasty resume makes no pretence at embracing 
 the whole subject, with other and more extended examinations 
 in view. Of our art it only remains to say that we have 
 carried out the remarks already made of other nations, and if 
 we have done well, by no means done our best. It is of the first 
 consequence, however, to know that our display, in literally 
 all the departments, has been received by the world with 
 respect, and in many of them with applause. Thanks, no 
 doubt, to an exceptionally good management on the part of 
 Commissioner-General McCormick and his assistants, we have 
 held, throughout, quite the place to which we were entitled, 
 and borne away quite as many honors as we deserved, even if 
 here and there a “ miss” has been scored where a “ hit ” was 
 nobly played for, and vice versa. 
 
 And now, to leave the Exposition for a brief period, after 
 the hastiest of glimpses at the Paris of 1878. And alter that 
 period, revenons a nos vioutons expositionaires, with intention 
 not again to abandon those interesting bucolic animals 
 until the theme which deals with them, if not the animals 
 themselves, shall be thoroughly exhausted. 
 
 PARIS MEDAL OF 1878. 
 
IX. 
 
 PARIS OF >8 AND PARIS OF THE PAST. 
 
 “ Our Boy Tommy ” says, in one of the previous papers, 
 describing the opening of the Exposition, that “ Paris was 
 never lovelier than it is to-day,” at the same time that he shows 
 the absence of any undue bias in its favor, by stating that “ he 
 does not like Paris, nowadays,” because “ it is not the Paris 
 of the old time—whether better or worse.” He is quite right 
 in both statements, which merely express two facts from dif¬ 
 ferent points of view. Paris has never been more truly beauti¬ 
 ful, as a city, than during the summer of 1878; and at the same 
 time the changes in it have made it as different from the Paris 
 of 1867, in [many regards, as if it had been torn down and 
 rebuilt. 
 
 As to the question of beauty. The scars of the great trouble 
 have by no means been effaced from the “ fair city,” but most 
 o-f them have been so carefully dealt with that they have 
 scarcely remained a deformity. The pettily-grand old Tuilleries 
 have not been replaced, nor has the Hotel de Ville, nor the 
 Palace of the Legion of Honor. In the lack of those three 
 buildings, and the damage of several others, the resources of 
 visitors have necessarily been narrowed ; but nature is kindly ; 
 and foliage softens destruction when it cannot hide it, and thus 
 few of the views in the city have been materially damaged. So 
 of most of the injury to the Bois de Boulogne, where the 
 accustomed eye might see, this summer, the lowering of altitude 
 of the trees, with only a few years of growth to repair the loss 
 of the old monarchs,—but where the ordinary visitor needed 
 to be told the late damages of that matchless pleasure-ground. 
 Not so of St. Cloud, however, where the scar is ineffaceable, 
 and where the beauty of what was one of the noblest palaces 
 and finest demesnes of France, passed away for all time when 
 the flames licked up their glories. 
 
PARIS OF THE PAS1 
 
 71 
 
 Within the city proper the question of comparative beauty 
 of the two periods needs much more than a word. There has 
 been much less of disturbance of the existing order of things 
 than there was in 1867, or in any other of the late years of the 
 Empire. Paris was being “ improved,” during all those years ; 
 and the improvement, however tending to eventual beauty 
 and convenience, was rather an eyesore during its progress. 
 The employes of the “ Bureau de Demolition,” who were 
 taking down row after row of houses to make place for one 
 and another of Baron Haussman’s new boulevards—they wore 
 clothes supposably indifferent to lime dust, and brazen helmets 
 that made strangers often mistake them for some arm of the 
 military service, expecting severe cuts with the cavalry broad¬ 
 sword over the caput. So that a falling beam or two might 
 knock them down, but was not likely to beat out their brains ; 
 and a down-pour or an out-pour of lime dust could not injure 
 their sartorial adornments to any extent. But such was not 
 the case with the average visitor, who probably emulated auld 
 Sandy Jemmings in “ wearin’ his guid claes while he was awa 
 frae hame and where naebody kenned him ava.” 
 
 The falling of a beam was at least to be avoided by that very 
 numerous class in 1867, and all the years close on either side 
 of it; and the gusts of lime dust were equally to be eschewed 
 by those who did not carry about pocket-whisks for brushing 
 at every corner. The occasional discomfort of all this may be 
 readily understood ; and added to it was the unsightliness of 
 a gap in some noble street fagade, suggesting a town of out- 
 West just being built, instead of the metropolis of the world 
 undergoing a mild renovation. 
 
 Well, the London newspaper already quoted (in III.) was 
 right in the prophecy that “the mantle of M. Haussman 
 would fall on no man s shoulders.” It did not so fall, and con¬ 
 sequently the “dust” that he “ raised,” in the most emphatic 
 sense, also refrained from falling on the shoulders and the 
 other parts of the visiting body. Paris looked, in 1878, much 
 more like a finished city of the blended sixteenth and nine¬ 
 teenth centuries, and much less like a half-completed after- 
 
72 
 
 PARIS IN ’78. 
 
 thought, than at any late previous period. Indefinably, too, the 
 additional dependence tor some years made on the influx of 
 ioreigners, for the very possibility of reasonable prosperity in 
 the midst of the national loss, has done more than a little to 
 induce the moderating of local specialties—always an advantage 
 in comfort and convenience, however damaging to the pictur¬ 
 esque features of the aspect. 
 
 Meanwhile, transit in the city has been materially better than 
 it was in 1867. The tramways and other regular lines of com¬ 
 munication have been in better working order, as well as more 
 numerous and extensive. Not so large a proportion of the 
 coal-wagons and bakers’-carts have been pressed into the ser¬ 
 vice of conveying passengers to the Exposition ; and that 
 change has been rather a benefit than a bereavement. There 
 have been more and better boats on the Seine, than at the 
 former gathering ; and for the hot weather of July and August 
 that boon has been one of no secondary consequence to a large 
 number. These ameliorations may be said almost to have 
 offset the marked and unfavorable difference between the two 
 years in accommodation for visitors—the added extortion of 
 1878 fairly rivalling that of Vienna in 1873, with either no 
 power or no will on the part of the government or the muni¬ 
 cipality, to mitigate the evil, as was so thoroughly done, though 
 late, by the Austrian authorities in the last-named year. Let 
 it not be understood that there have been no good hotels, or 
 even reasonable ones in demand, during the season. There 
 have been, and so have there been pleasant private hotels and 
 pensions; but the conscienceless and the grasping have been 
 too much the rule; and, as “the greater contains the less,’, 
 according to an old mathematical axiom, Paris, as a whole, has 
 suffered in the detail of comfort and pleasantness, by the mere 
 fact of “ containing ” a certain large number of the grasping 
 and unconscionable. 
 
 In amusements Paris has not equalled, on this later occa¬ 
 sion, the display of 1867. About the same number of theatres, 
 and nearl)' the same in identity, have been open throughout the 
 Exposition, with less effort evident, however, to supply 
 
PARIS OF THE PAST. 
 
 73 
 
 attractions commensurate with the expected attendance. 
 The great Music Hall, Theatre, or “Salle des Fetes,” of the 
 Trocadero Palace, has of course supplied another magnificent- 
 place of musical resort, scarcely second to any other in the 
 world ; and many musical events of interest for the moment, 
 have taken place there. Also, the Grand Opera House has been 
 reasonably well occupied and supported, though only one abso¬ 
 lute sensation has been experienced there—in the production of 
 Gounod’s “ Polyeucte,” which took place so late as the com¬ 
 mencement of October, with at least a fair success, though 
 adding no laurels to the brow of the composer of “ Faust.” 
 Taken all in all, it may be said that in 1878 Paris has offered 
 less for the money (to use an expressive colloquialism) than in 
 1867 ; and to account for this, some of the succeeding con¬ 
 siderations may come well in place. 
 
 Paris was, and always has been, at least in our day, “ nothing 
 if not luxurious.” “Vive la bagatelle ” has belonged to her, 
 quite as appropriately as it would have been inappropriately 
 plastered on the wall of the Tower of London or the front of 
 the Boston Old South. Her people looked it as well as acted 
 it, in that old time so very near ; and in so looking and acting 
 they seemed part of the scene and belonging to it. But they 
 have changed materially. They have not forgotten, even in 
 years of renewed prosperity, the long faces that they pulled 
 when the German cannon were thundering all around them 
 during that terrible winter of 1870-71. (“ Tommy,” in a private 
 
 note, not here to be given, suggests that they have dieted too 
 much on horse-meat, to be the same men who were alternately 
 fierce and poetical, but always polite and with a certain tinge 
 of softness, on the flesh of the cow and the bullock !) Cer¬ 
 tainly they have lost, as a collective people, much of that char¬ 
 acteristic which can be best named as brightness, which made 
 them so generally intensely amusing, often specially pleasant, 
 and always worth study. They have become unpleasantly real, 
 instead of picturesquely and prettily theatrical. They have 
 proved themselves, during the summer, capable of a cabman’s 
 strike, and awakened suspicions that they might have been 
 
74 
 
 PARIS IN ’78. 
 
 fully equal, under favorable conditions, to a “strike” of the 
 English-mill-character—dogged, persistent, even bloody for a 
 principle, or in pursuance of a collective whim. 
 
 That infusion of the blood of the Quartier Latin, through¬ 
 out the whole of Paris and far into the suburbs, which was so 
 evident a dozen years ago, is to be found no more, or only 
 found under much less reputable conditions, depriving it of 
 its pleasantness and making it unfragrant for study. Henri 
 Murger could not write, now, were he alive, another “ Vie de 
 Boheme,” without drawing from the past instead of the pres¬ 
 ent. If Rodolphe, and Marcel, and Schaunard, still exist, and 
 still make their habitat in the Quartier Latin, there is reason 
 to fear that they are students no longer—much more possibly 
 chiffoniers, or, at the best, drivers of fiacres. And if one is to 
 look for Mimi or Musette, sad to think that they are proba¬ 
 bly no longer wearers ol the modest gray of the grisette, but 
 the flaunting colors of the cocotte. Not a year of the old city 
 lately so sorely stricken, and to-day so defiant, could evolve 
 the true merriment of one of these wondrous evenings so in¬ 
 imitably told of by Murger or Beranger. 
 
 And this brings, naturally, suggestions of a change in that 
 pleasant “ unholy -of unholies,” the outside appearance of 
 which “Tommy” did not know when viewing it from the Ex¬ 
 position buildings—the Jardin Mabille. What a place it was, 
 in the days when the Governor first saw it, now somewhat 
 more than a dozen years ago, when the splendor of the Empire 
 was undimmed and all Paris lay under the blaze. And after, 
 in the 1867 days, when the Captain and Anna Maria, and young 
 Hawesby accompanied him there, and Fifine and Gros Jean were 
 among the terpsichorean lights, and the young lady from 
 America advised her newly arrived acquaintances by no means 
 to go there, because, “if they did, they would want to go 
 again !” I f there was any “ glory ” about it, it has unquestion¬ 
 ably depreciated, as the gilt is very apt to rub away from nearly 
 everything less substantial and valuable than solid metal. It is 
 not that the Governor is older, and that he has (merely as a 
 spectator, not as a terpsichorean ora posturist) visited Mabille 
 
PARIS OF THE PAST. 
 
 75 
 
 so often as to have lost the sense of any refreshing novelty in 
 it, that he marks and records this declension. Others than he 
 have seen it, and noted it with reference to this very season of 
 1878, and in comparison with the year of the former Exposi¬ 
 tion. 
 
 Says that popular magazinist, George Augustus Sala, in an 
 August letter in the London Telegraph: 
 
 “ I was at the Jardin Mabille in August, 1867. The crowd 
 was as dense as that which crowded the Gardens last Thurs¬ 
 day, but what a difference in the appearance of the company! 
 The most sumptuous costumes that Worth could furnish, the 
 costliest boquets that Lady Hocquet could build—Valenciennes 
 lace, poult de sole, cashmeres and diamonds—the greatest dan¬ 
 dies from the clubs, millionnaires from Brazil, from Mexico, and 
 from California, English peers and Members of Parliament, 
 Senators, Deputies, diplomatists, bankers, notaries, adven¬ 
 turers—all the Coras, the Theodoras, the Delphines, the Faus- 
 tines, the Messalines, if you will, of this sparkling, profligate 
 city. For hundreds of yards outside the Gardens the roadway 
 was choked with splendid private equipages. Grooms and 
 commissionaires ran hither and thither ; serjents de ville shouted 
 in strident tones as M. le Marquis de Poule Mouille drove off 
 in his tilbury to play baccarat at the club ; or as the sly little 
 coupe of his Excellency Eugene Rougeon drew up to convey 
 his Excellency and Sarah la Sournoise—she who extracted 
 half a million from the Eujaxiean Envoy—to supper in a cabinet 
 at the Maison Doree. Inside the Jardin Mabille how many 
 brindisis, how much smoking of cigarettes and flashing of gems, 
 and changing of bright louis and crisp notes of the Bank of 
 Franee! * * 
 
 “ Where are you, the Princesses, now ? Married and settled, 
 emigrated, in the hospital at St. Lazare, or dead. It is only the 
 poor relations of Cora and Faustinaand Theodora, of Diane la 
 Drolesse and Sarah Sournoise, that I seem to see at Mabille this 
 Thursday night. * * Where are the moires , the gros de 
 
 Naples , the poults de soie, the velvets, the satins, the cashmeres 
 and lace shawls, the brocades and the jewels, the feathers and 
 
76 
 
 PARIS IN ’78. 
 
 the flowers of price? A poor lot of painted women, ranging 
 between sixteen and sixty years of age, paraded the circumfer¬ 
 ence of the dancing platform with wondrously watchful eyes, 
 despite their jaded and wearied mien. * * The dancing 
 
 is a mere hollow imposture. * * 
 
 “ I am inclined to think that the entertainment for which we 
 had paid five francs a head, would have been dear at fifty cen¬ 
 times, or five-pence-halfpenny. There was plenty of gas, to be 
 sure ; but that and the whited sepulchres I can see on the 
 boulevards any night for nothing * * The whited 
 
 sepulchres are presumably on the free list; and the multitude, 
 apart from a proportion of middle-class Englishmen and Ger¬ 
 mans, are mostly composed of poor little whipper-snappers in 
 billicock hats and slop-shop clothes, to any one of whom, to 
 all seeming, it would have been an act of charity to give a cou¬ 
 ple of francs to get some supper withal.” 
 
 This is the report of Mabille in the Summer of 1878, by a 
 very close observer. What does it mean ? For answer, the 
 Governor will go farther than that oft-quoted person who said 
 that, “ if he might make the ballads of a nation, he cared not 
 who made the laws.” He will say that a glance at the favorite 
 amusements of any people, or section of people, tells as much 
 of their relative position at onetime and another, as any blue- 
 book that can be manufactured in the interests of the State. 
 And Mabille tells, quite as w r cll as any more reputable place of 
 resort can do, that the Parisian Frenchman of 1878 is not the 
 Parisian Frenchman who existed in 1867—whether he is better 
 or worse ; whether richer or poorer ; whether changed by the 
 substitution of a Republic not appreciated for an Empire 
 equally understood, liked, and feared—or merely not yet 
 recovered from the blow which temporarily ruined him and 
 momentarily made another and hated nation his master. 
 
 Surely “ Tommy ” was correct in the statement, whatever 
 may have been the correctness of his deduction, that, “ it is 
 not the Paris of the old time, whether better or worse.” And 
 surely the Governor, taking his own experience there during 
 the summer, found that others than “ Tommy ” could acquire 
 
PARIS OF THE PAST. 
 
 77 
 
 the same feeling-, at a very slight temptation. So many of the 
 old fellows were gone ! There was so much of what Thackeray 
 expressed of one locality in the city, in that sad and almost 
 heart-breaking “ Ballad of Bouillibaisse 
 
 “-Nothing’s changed or older. 
 
 How's Monsieur Terre, waiter, pray ? 
 
 The waiter stares, and shrugs his shoulder : 
 
 ‘Monsieur is dead this many a day.’ 
 
 * * * ♦ 
 
 “Where are you, old companions trusty, 
 
 Of early days, met here to dine ? 
 
 Come, waiter, quick, a flagon crusty ! 
 
 I’ll pledge them in the good old wine. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 “Ah. me ! how quick the days are flitting ! 
 
 I mind me of a time that’s gone, 
 
 When here I’d sit, as now I’m sitting. 
 
 In this same place, but not atone /” 
 
 There have been others than Thackeray suffering in the Paris 
 of to-day on account of the Paris of yesterday, though they 
 may net have been able so melodiously to express the bereave¬ 
 ment. “Tommy” felt it acutely when he penned the few 
 words already quoted. And the Governor felt it, as he re¬ 
 membered how many of the “ boys ” of the old days had died, 
 drifted away or changed to him. As on the first morning of 
 his stay in Paris, of the summer, he walked out to the Porte 
 Dauphine and thence slowly and almost shrinkingly the few 
 hundreds of yards leading to the corner of the Avenue de la 
 Roi de Rome and the little Rue de la Faisanderie, on the. bor¬ 
 ders of Passy. The little green wind-mill stood over the 
 gate-way. of the Moulin Vert, as of old, at the corner; and 
 tables could still be seen set in the grounds within, where ere- 
 while the Captain and the Governor had that pleasant supper 
 with a wedding party which they believed to be that of a hat¬ 
 ter who had married a lady’s maid, and where they saw more 
 of heartfelt hilarity, and better learned to understand the true 
 meaning of lifting the wineglass to the lips with the simple 
 “ A vot?-e sante, Madame /” than they would have discovered in 
 a twelvemonth elsewhere. 
 
78 
 
 PARIS IN ’78. 
 
 Yes, the Moulin Vert remained, and no doubt some sort of 
 dry, unappetizing repast might have been procured there; but 
 the ambrosial meal and the hilarity of the past—no. Then the 
 Governor strolled down the Rue de la Faisanderie, only a little 
 distance to No. 23, where legend has it that once Franklin 
 lived when Ambassador to France, where a school followed 
 later, in a court-yarded straggling house with some shrubbery 
 in the yard and barred windows to the annexed buildings, and 
 where Thomas Cook had the Exposition Hotel in 1867. Alas, 
 the building stood, still; but the gate ofwhat had again changed 
 to be a school was closed and locked even against the enquirer; 
 and only over a stone wall could he catch a glimpse of the win¬ 
 dows of that annex-building, in the which the Captain, young 
 Ilawesby and he were one day for a considerable time impris¬ 
 oned through the closing of a spring-lock while the key was 
 on the outside of the door. All looked shabby and gray, and 
 the whole place seemed haunted with the ghosts of the dead 
 past—not the less that only a few yards farther down the 
 street, on the other side, a new “Cook’s Exposition Hotel” 
 had sprung up and appeared to be doing a flourishing busi¬ 
 ness in cockneys and Pittsburg Americans. 
 
 But enough of this, and perhaps too much. As already said, 
 they were all gone—even Hart Durant, who only the year be¬ 
 fore the Exposition summer of 1867, sold American drinks over 
 a marble slab at the corner of Rue Vivienne ; in the Exposi¬ 
 tion year took one of the great gold medals for the noblest bit 
 of machinery in the collection ; and in the year following sold 
 flowers for his bread, with a pretty little grisette tor a partner, 
 in front of the Madeleine ; to be a millionnaire in a year or two 
 following, and thereafter—what? Yes, all gone. Let the re¬ 
 membrances of the time go with them, and the Governor, and 
 those who may choose to accompany him, turn to various 
 “Side-shows and Excursions” made possible by the Paris 
 gatheringof 1878, and literally covering with hasty strides half 
 the more notable places of Europe. The same pen has already 
 written quite enough descriptions and descriptive passages, in 
 other years, of the peculiarities of Paris lying outside the 
 Champ de Mars; and so—elsewhere ! 
 
OVER THE NORTH SEA, TO ANTWERP. 
 
 By preconcerted arrangement, the Governor, condemned to 
 temporary loneliness in London, found company on the verge 
 of his departure for the Continent. This came in the shape of 
 the Artist, a sailing-companion from New York as well as a 
 friend of many years’ standing, who had never before found 
 the opportunity for visiting Europe, though the hair had begun 
 to thin on his brow and his name had long been honorably 
 known among picture-lovers. Slight, nervous, active, restless, 
 widely experienced in other portions of the world than Europe, 
 a favorite among the female sex, and with enough of kindly 
 feeling in him to deserve appreciation anywhere—-the truth 
 must be told that he promised to be a much more welcome 
 companion to the Governor, at his past sixty, than he could 
 have been in his more riotous youth and busier middle-age. 
 
 The Artist came up to town, from the Midlands, where he 
 had been making certain studies, on Friday night; and it is 
 not betraying any confidence to say that between that time and 
 the dawn of Sunday morning, he had “done” London much 
 more thoroughly than most persons can hope to do it in a 
 twelvemonth, besides making his way into half-a-dozen excep¬ 
 tional places to which the ordinal traveller could not have 
 hoped for admission on any pretext, and filling up a book of an 
 hundred pages with sketches of nearly everything animate and 
 inanimate in the metropolis, including Cleopatra’s Needle, in 
 process of uncasing from its caisson, at the Victoria Embank¬ 
 ment,—to which, the commonalty being shut away by a hoard¬ 
 ing which admitted of no view, he had been admitted as of 
 right, and shown about with the effusion due a dignitary. So 
 much done, he was ready for the Continent—as what else 
 remained for him on mere British soil ? 
 
 A hot Sunday noon saw the Artist and the Governor making 
 their way eastward to the City, St. Katharine’s Docks, and the 
 
80 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 Belgian Steam Packet Company’s good steamer Baron Osy, 
 there lying in readiness for Antwerp. The sky was threatening 
 and lowering, as well as hot; and the prospect of leaving the 
 land for eighteen hours of transit by river and sea, was well 
 blended of expectation and uncertainty. Somewhat larger 
 than the other boats between London and Antwerp, however, 
 the Baron Osy was a favorite and “ the fashion and a com¬ 
 pany of respectable numbers and good class was listening 
 impatiently to the blowing steam from her two raking funnels 
 and waiting for the last bell and the last word. 
 
 High noon, and the voyage was begun. It was the first time 
 down the Thames, even for the Governor, though he had be¬ 
 fore ascended that stream on a direct boat from Boulogne ; and 
 it was the first time that he had traversed the whole lower 
 Thames at all by daylight. “ Where does all the shipping of 
 London, that they say is the second seaport in the world, 
 stow itself?” is a question often asked by visitors; and it is 
 only after such a sail down it from London docks that it can 
 be duly answered. Those docks !—they are quite as much the 
 world’s wonders in the way of stowing shipping, as those of 
 Liverpool are in the way of receiving half the steamers afloat; 
 and as row after row of masts follows each other, the observer 
 from the river always seeing them lengthwise, the wonder 
 is changed to the very different one, “ From where, on earth, 
 do all these vessels come?—and have all the mercantile fleets 
 afloat crowded into London at once ?” 
 
 The Baron Osy is a substantial and lively craft of twelve to 
 fifteen hundred tons; and she is officered and managed in ac¬ 
 cordance with her reputation. On that special Sunday her 
 passengers dined well, and certainly enjoyed the voyage down 
 the river without any drawback, albeit one or two fierce gusts 
 and sharp dashes of rain hid the view of the widening banks 
 and drove all outstanding people under shelter. Whether it 
 can be said that they comported themselves as well as enjoyed, 
 remains an open question. Sure it is that at a certain hour in 
 the afternoon, the vanities of everyday life, in the shape of a 
 box of dominoes, came into “play” in the fullest sense of the 
 word ; and equally certain is it that the Governor-. 
 
OVER TO ANTWERP. 
 
 81 
 
 The truth is, that this person, whatever his invulnerability in 
 other regards, has an Achilles heel in his opinion of himself. 
 He can not be told that anything lies beyond his power, with 
 equanimity. And when, he being only an on-looker, the ver¬ 
 satile captain of the Baron Osy, on a broad board extended 
 across some trestles between the paddle-boxes, did mercilessly 
 beat and bother sundry of his passengers, to their loss and his 
 gain of divers sixpences—then the gubernatorial choler (not 
 collar) rose, and he forgot that the day was the Sabbath. 
 
 “ Let me try you, Captain !” and the captain allowed him to 
 do so. In two minutes the stickler for all the proprieties was 
 gambling (a thing that he had not before done for a quarter of 
 a century—not even under the wild incitement of Baden- 
 Baden), and gambling on Sunday. It perhaps does not matter 
 that he was being soundly beaten by the all-prevailmg Captain, 
 when a sudden cry trom the Artist brought him at once to his 
 recollection and his feet. 
 
 “ What, Governor ! ” 
 
 The Artist had been absent in another part of the ship, and 
 had only at that moment arrived, to be thus horror-struck. He 
 did what in him lay; he uttered the exclamation alread y re¬ 
 corded. At the sound, the offending person recollected 
 himself and deserted—not (the assurance needs repeating), 
 not because the gallant captain was literally “ beating him out 
 of his boots,” but on account of the day, which no one else on 
 the vessel except the Artist seemed to remember ! 
 
 It is obvious that, during these and other operations, the 
 afternoon had been wearing away, and the Thames and its 
 banks passing before eyes not too observant. Glimpses had 
 been caught, not far down the river at the right, of Grecn- 
 hithe, with its chalk-pits and commanding position, and the 
 blended remembrance that there, long since the Governor 
 first began to visit it, stood one of the finger-boards, dating 
 from time immemorial, though only of wood, pointing London- 
 ward for Canterbury pilgrims,—and that there, until only one 
 year ago, lived Samuel O. Beeton, the most enterprising of 
 London publishers, and who could have told more of the 
 
82 
 
 OVER HALF-E UR OPE. 
 
 origin of “ The Coming K.,” “ Edward the Seventh," and other 
 holiday rhymes of like satirical character, than any other man 
 about London. Beyond Greenhithe, the Thames widening 
 very fast, and the Baron Osy keeping well away from the south 
 shore, little more was to be seen. At Gravesend, though less 
 than thirty miles from London by river, the narrowness of the 
 Thames really terminates ; and there was nothing to be seen 
 from the ship of the merry-makers who might be supposed, 
 that Sunday afternoon, to be in mad enjoyment there, and at 
 Rosherville and Springhead. Of much more consequence was 
 it, however, to catch a view on the other, or north side of the 
 river, of a low and modest fortification of which the name has 
 sounded over the world for three centuries in connection with 
 the name of a great Queen. Here it was, to this modest little 
 Tilbury Fort, then no doubt reckoned a formidable fortification, 
 that Queen Elizabeth went down to inspect the land’s 
 defenders, when the Spanish Armada was reported at sea and 
 the smoke of warning arose from every headland of note 
 around the little island. Raleigh had been here, and Sir 
 Francis Drake, and Essex : it was worth seeing, if only for a 
 glance, this little Tilbury Fort, made a part of the most 
 momentous day of English history for half-a-dozen centuries. 
 
 Sheerness was dropped too far southward to be seen at 
 all, the steamer bearing away so far for the North Sea cross¬ 
 ing; and only the white cliffs and some of the white houses 
 of Margate came into distant view. And that was the last 
 glimpse of England, except a hazy peep of the North Fore¬ 
 land, far away to the south, an hour before sunset. A 
 parting reminder of her power was given, nearly at the same 
 time, in overtaking and passing the magnificent P. and O. 
 steamer Cathay , going out on her voyage to the land whose 
 ancient name she bore. And another reminder, much more 
 painful, came very soon after. 
 
 “ Would you take the trouble to point out to me when we 
 pass it, the Kentish Knock, where the Deutschland went to 
 pieces two or three years ago ? ” asked the Governor, who had 
 abandoned gambling, from ill-success, of the Captain, who 
 had abandoned it for lack of any more antagonists to conquer. 
 
OVER TO ANTWERP. 
 
 83 
 
 “ The Deutschland went to pieces just about where we are : 
 we are on the Kentish Knock at this moment! ” answered the 
 accomodating Captain, with such energy that for the instant 
 the Governor believed himself a passenger on a wreck, and 
 looked around for life preservers. But as no one else seemed 
 to be seriously alarmed, he grew reassured and, listened with 
 the sensation of water running down his back to the Captain's 
 relation of his own experiences on the night of the catastrophe. 
 
 “ It was a dreadful night—that of the Sixth of December, 
 1875,” said the Commander, speaking in German as he grew 
 excited—so that the Governor would not have profited largely 
 by his discourse, but for the fact that the Artist spoke all the 
 languages of the globe and some not usually heard on it. 
 “ That of the Fifth was not nearly so bad, though bad enough. 
 I crossed the North Sea, by a route only a little northward 
 from this, on the night of the Sixth, in a ship nearly as large 
 as our good Baron , here,” (his way of designating the Osy, 
 every time that he spoke of her), “ and a ship quite as able; 
 and I never went before a worse gale or one that raised a 
 worse sea. We were under water, most of the time, like 
 fishes ; and I had quite enough of it when, in the grey of the 
 morning, we came under the lee of the Essex shore and there¬ 
 after found comparatively smooth water. Cold ?—ach, it was 
 awfully cold, and the snow and sleet drove in the eyes of one 
 so that seeing was next to impossible.” 
 
 “ You did not see anything of the Deutschland, then ? though 
 of course you could not!” queried one of the listeners. 
 
 “ Nothing of her—no, I suppose that if we had, we should 
 all have been lost in trying to save the others. The Deutsch¬ 
 land, you must remember, left Bremerhaven on Sunday 
 morning—that was the Fifth—at nine o’clock, and so was not 
 out quite one day when she struck on the Kentish Knock, 
 which you must know is a sand bank.” 
 
 " But must she not have been very much out of her course 
 from Bremen for New York, to be here at all?” queried the 
 Governor, who has sometimes a fancy that he understands the 
 mere outer sdges of navigation. 
 
 7 
 
84 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 “ Very much out—yes,” answered the Captain. “ But, young 
 man,” and he glanced severely at the grey-haired person so 
 designated, “ if you knew anything of the sea—any more than 
 you do of dominoes—you would understand that in such a 
 snow-storm and gale, a ship, even a steamer, does not obey 
 like a very good child. Yes, she must have been twenty-five 
 or thirty miles out of her course ; but Captain Bruckstein— 
 he was my friend—was a good man, and there is no fault to be 
 found with him or his officers, Lauenstein, Thalenhaust, Mor- 
 risse—they were all good men ; and do you know that one— 
 that was poor Otto von Tramnitz, had been on the search for 
 the North Pole with one of your American commanders ?” 
 
 “ I know the fact,” said one of the auditors—a grav-haired, 
 quiet man, who had not before spoken. “ And perhaps I know 
 something more of that loss than most of you, though 1 was 
 not at sea in the storm.” 
 
 “ Ach ? ” queried the Captain, in one word. 
 
 “Yes; I was at Rochester on the night of the Sixth and 
 morning of the Seventh,” said the speaker, “and I saw some¬ 
 thing there that I shall never forget—something that I shall 
 shudder over, while I live, every time that I think of it. I 
 saw what man can endure, and what he cannot endure. I saw 
 August, one of the quartermasters of the Deutschland , come 
 ashore with his boat, bringing the first intelligence of the dis¬ 
 aster. He was so piteously exhausted that he could not speak 
 for an hour alter we began to give him restoratives ; and how 
 he had continued to hold the oars, is the greatest wonder I 
 have ever known, for both his hands seemed to be frozen stiff 
 when they dropped them. But that was not the worst.” 
 
 “ Acb ? What worse could be ? ” again queried the Cap¬ 
 tain, who seemed not to have heard all, or who had forgotten. 
 
 “ Worse, much worse,” repeated the narrator. “ One living 
 man and two corpses, in any boat, is worse than Charon. Poor 
 August was alive, however frozen ; but another quartermaster, 
 named, I think, Forsenstein, and a common sailor, were lying 
 dead and stiff in the bottom of the boat, while the one man 
 rowed on and on for his life and to seek aid for his com¬ 
 panions.” 
 
OVER TO ANTWERP. 
 
 85 
 
 “Ach, Gott ! that was horrible, indeed. I did not remem¬ 
 ber that, if I heard it,” said the captain. At which juncture 
 the Governor, afraid of being overshadowed by everybody in 
 information about an event of which he had been the first 
 inquirer, communicated his modicum of remembrance. 
 
 “ I remember that they acknowledged hearing the guns of 
 the doomed ship at Harwich, and seeing her rockets nearly 
 a whole day, when no one could put out to her rescue, because 
 no boat could live in the sea. And I remember, also, very 
 well, that those who eventually reached the wreck on the tug 
 Liverpool, the second morning, spoke of the scene as too hor¬ 
 rible for description. Men, women and children lashed in th.e 
 rigging, many of them dead, and those alive taken off more 
 than half naked, as the ship had struck at before daylight in 
 the morning, when they were in their berths. I saw just such 
 a scene, many years ago, on the American coast, when the 
 ship also struck in the night, and the half-dressed lashed 
 themselves in the rigging and froze and died there ; and I have 
 not forgotten the spectacle, and will not to my dying day.” 
 
 “ And /remember something that neither of you have ever 
 heard, probably, in connection with the Deutschland,” said the 
 Artist, who had so far been only listener and occasional trans¬ 
 lator. “When the news of the loss came to New York, an 
 old pilot slapped down his hand on his thigh, declared that he 
 had known for months how that ship would end, and proved 
 that he had told scores of the fact, in advance. She had burst 
 a gun, he said, off Staten Island, when firing a salute, and 
 killed four steerage passengers ; then a skeleton had been 
 found behind the boilers ; and then she had broken her screw; 
 without any weather to justify the accident. She had been 
 doomed all the while, and he had told them so ! ” 
 
 The night was calm and starlit, with literally no sea, though 
 with swell enough to create the regulation pitch and make 
 uncomfortable many of the lady-passengers below. Perhaps 
 two-thirds of the whole number were on deck, and there re¬ 
 mained, paying divided attention to the conversation with the 
 salty flavor, and to the omens and aspects of a night at half- 
 
86 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 sea, a novelty to many. Well along in the evening, the lights 
 of Ostend were made—very distant to starboard, but plain in 
 their long line, showing the extent of the sea-shore resort at 
 that favorite port ; then, much later, those of Blankenburg, 
 with the same suggestion, though also very distant; then, at 
 past midnight, those of Flushing at the mouth of the Scheldt 
 and on the coast of Holland. 
 
 At one in the morning, the good ship Baron Osy ceased from 
 her pitch, as she entered the Scheldt, and gave those remain¬ 
 ing on deck a night view of the antique houses of the old 
 Hollandische town of Flushing, low-lyin-g, shaded, dyked, and 
 with the inevitable wind-mills of the Low Countries coming at 
 once into view, Then, the sea-voyage being over, and the 
 course of the river reported most flat and uninteresting, the 
 before-despised berths were sought even by the most inveterate 
 night-hawks. When they opened their eyes at seven, the next 
 morning, the Baron Osy had ceased moving as well as pitch¬ 
 ing, and a body of men in blouses were engaged in making a 
 bridge from her guards to the wharf by running out long poles 
 and ranging great planks along them ; while the noble tower 
 of a cathedral rising skyward at a little distance, and the 
 peaked gabled houses meeting the eye in long lines as it swept 
 up and down the banks of the river, told that the whole water- 
 transit was concluded at famed historical old Antwerp, 
 
:xi. 
 
 ANTWERP, HISTORY, AND QUENTIN MATSYS. 
 
 It was the first visit of the Governor to Antwerp, as well as 
 the first of the Artist to any of the old Continental cities of 
 Europe. It was, to the former, the carrying out of one more 
 of the hopes of a lifetime ; but that carrying out was to be 
 done in a few hours, as Brussels and the Rhine were calling 
 within a limited number of days. To the Artist, as they landed 
 that morning amid the usual crowd of loungers always attend¬ 
 ing disembarkation from any vessel in which they have no 
 interest whatever (many of the men bloused and most of the 
 women white-capped in this instance), there is no doubt that 
 the Artist was thinking of the treasures in the picture-world so 
 soon to tall beneath his eye; but it is equally sure that the 
 Governor, a perfect glutton in history, was principally ab¬ 
 sorbed in the great past of the old city, and recalling the forms 
 of old that had long since stalked through its narrow streets, 
 done their work in the world, good or evil, and disappeared. 
 Untrained child that he was, and ever has been, he was look¬ 
 ing (in his mind’s eye, Horatio,) to see emerging into view, at 
 one of the street corners, a tall figure, with fierce bearded 
 face, broad plumed hat, spurred boots, and long sword clank¬ 
 ing on the pavement from beneath his black cloak—and to 
 know that this was the terrible Duke of Alva, the virtual de¬ 
 stroyer of the Netherlands, who ought, by any right, to have 
 been dead and rotten lor this three hundred years. 
 
 And what a history it has been—that of this Flemish north¬ 
 ern capital of the Spanish dominion, this city with no equal in 
 position and no rival in its opportunities to be queen of the 
 trade of Western Europe ! What plots have been hatched be¬ 
 neath the eaves ol some of those very old houses, now only 
 picturesque in their slow decay ! What struggles between the 
 old religion and the new, have raged here, and raged without 
 ever coming to any definite victory on either side, as the Prot- 
 
88 
 
 OVER HALF-EUROPE. 
 
 estant stubborness of the Fleming, and his self-willed per¬ 
 sonal rule, on the one hand, and the gilt figures of the Virgin 
 and Child visible at every turn, in niches and on corners, on 
 the other hand, combine to prove. 
 
 Antwerp has been called, at times, the most Catholic city in 
 Europe. Certes it has proved itself, at others, the most un¬ 
 manageable by the hierarchy of Rome, if the most Catholic. 
 The scores of windows in ordinary dwellings, still stanchioned 
 with the iron bars put in them by the hands of blacksmiths 
 who ceased work centuries ago, and the gratings in innumer¬ 
 able doors through which the visitor could always be spied 
 before their opening, in the old and troublous times, tell 
 enough of a history of blood and force through which the 
 Flemings of Antwerp have passed with less of impression on 
 their native character than any other people on the globe. 
 
 What must the old city have been, say up to the middle 
 of the sixteenth century, when it numbered 200,000 inhabit¬ 
 ants, and when from 2,000 to 3,000 vessels daily loaded and 
 unloaded in the Scheldt before it, with 500 wagons daily enter¬ 
 ing its gates, bearing the produce and wealth of fertile Flan¬ 
 ders ! But Philip II., of Spain, willed that it should be not 
 only Spanish but Catholic, while the people willed that they 
 would have the Reformation if they liked. So Alva sacked it, 
 amid the execrations of a world. Then it revolted, and put 
 the Spaniard in ward if it did not drive him out. Then that 
 greatest warrior of his time, and one of the best, Alexander 
 Farnese, Prince of Parma, won one of the noblest successes 
 of his life, by investing and taking it, after the death of Don 
 John of Austria had removed him from a government which 
 he adorned. Here it was that William the Silent, Prince of 
 Orange, displayed some of the ablest qualities of his nature, 
 both in war and diplomacy ; and here it was that the first das¬ 
 tardly attempt was made on his life, the ineffectual bullet actu¬ 
 ally carrying away some of his teeth,—in anticipation of his 
 assassination at Delft, by the fanatic, Balthazar Gerard, in 1585, 
 
 But we must pause here, before this mere sketch becomes 
 that dullest thing in knowledge, a history, with all its false 
 
OVER TO ANTWERP. 
 
 83 
 
 philosophies and inaccuracies. Let us to the Cathedral, to 
 which the steps of the Artist and the Governor did not need 
 any of the proffering guides, the great spire being landmark 
 quite sufficient. 
 
 Beside that of Cologne, or that of Strasbourg, the Cathe¬ 
 dral of Antwerp cannot hold place, however magnificent when 
 uncompared. It is said to have a length of 500 feet, and a 
 width of 250; while the spire, on the right hand of the great 
 Gothic front, is variously alleged to have the height of 350, 
 400, and even 450 feet. In all probability the smallest figure 
 is nearest to the actual height of the noble pile, with many of 
 the best features of the order in its ascent and diminution to 
 the crowning point, and the surmounting vane seeming well 
 up to the low clouds of the Flemish morning. The opposite 
 side of the front has a companion tower, rising, however, only 
 fifty to a hundred feet above the roof of the building, with 
 half-a-dozen points and a low central pepper-box spire. For 
 the rest of the outer appearance of the great Cathedral, what 
 more can or need be said than that it is grandly Gothic, with 
 all the charm of that order of architecture, oppressing the 
 beholder with its immensity and delighting the lover of anti¬ 
 quity with the dingy duskiness which centuries have thrown 
 like a dark veil over the whole ? 
 
 But let it not be supposed that, having thus hurriedly sur¬ 
 veyed the pile, the two visitors obeyed the suggestions of the 
 enforced chaperon, and entered. No—there was that without, 
 compelling almost as much attention as the Cathedral, albeit 
 occupying but little space besides its giant bulk heaved 
 heavenward. And beside this, the Governor held the Artist 
 by the button-hole, after the manner of the Ancient Mariner 
 dealing with the wedding guest, and told him a little story 
 which he may or may not have known quite as well as the 
 relator. 
 
 Once upon a time, say about 1480, when Columbus was 
 dreaming of America but had not yet sailed to discover it, 
 there was a painter of Antwerp who had covered a large 
 amount of canvas with oil and colors, amassed a certain 
 
90 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 amount of money and an uncertain amount of fame thereby 
 (not so much fame that his name has been preserved—so we 
 will call him Johannes von Schmidt, as most convenient), and 
 who stood among the notable men of the city on th-@ 
 Scheldt. Among his property, and by far the most trouble¬ 
 some part of it, was a daughter, who must, for this occasion 
 only, figure as Annetchen von Schmidt, in the absence of any 
 memory on the subject. It goes withourt saying, that An¬ 
 netchen, as became the daughter of an artist, was beau¬ 
 tiful. But it does not go without saying that she had ful¬ 
 filled her woman's destiny (in part) by falling in love, neces¬ 
 sarily with a young man, and unnecessarily with one of the 
 signally ineligible. 
 
 If there was a peculiarly smoky an-d sooty part of the old 
 city, it was to be found in the Borg Strasse, half a mile from 
 the Cathedral, eastward. And if there was a peculiarly smoky 
 and sooty shop on the Borg Strasse, it was that of Jacobus 
 von Boobervaert, iron-worker, and what modern ages call 
 blacksmith-in-general. Von Boobervaert was somewhat ad¬ 
 dicted to his cups, and found in the bier-haus of his gossip. 
 Barent von Scbincken, that which kept him too much of his 
 time from the anvil for prosperity. Things might have gone 
 badly on this account, but for the steady industry of his one 
 apprentice, a young fellow who seemed to have no care for 
 the dirtiness of his face or the scorched condition of his 
 leather apron, so that he could blow—blow—blow, hammer— 
 hammer—hammer away, at forge and anvil. We will call him, 
 for the time, Petrus Baengherz, than which no more befitting 
 name can well be found for the everlasting wielder of forge- 
 hammers. 
 
 Now we have, at last, a glimpse at the love-mate of pretty 
 Annetchen von Schmidt. The stout young blacksmith, who 
 really washed his face and took off his scorched leather apron 
 when he visited the house of the painter (somewhat surrep¬ 
 titiously, be it observed), was beardedly handsome, if the like¬ 
 nesses preserved of him tell a true story. He had fallen the 
 whole ol his six feet in love with the painter’s daughter, and 
 
OVER TO ANTWERP. 
 
 91 
 
 she the whole of her five feet four in corresponding love with 
 him. Things were approaching a crisis, as in such cases made 
 and provided. That love must be declared ; and it would be (as 
 it proved to be) what the students in “ La Vie de Boheme ” 
 thought it would be when they announced that they had no 
 money to pay for the supper already eaten — rough. 
 
 It was rough. Young Petrus Baengherz called upon elderly 
 Johannes von Schmidt, with his face washed and his best 
 clothes donned for the occasion. He found the painter in his 
 studio, brush in hand and velvet cap on head, studying what 
 he thought an “ effect ” in a fresh painted daub, which event¬ 
 ually became a fireboard at Malines. He was not received 
 with effusion—the signal to sit, of Von Schmidt, being such a 
 motion as he would have made to a dog of “down!” And 
 when, after much reddening and some stammering, he an¬ 
 nounced his love for the daughter of the painter, the eyes of 
 the father shot such glances of scorn that they might have 
 paralyzed a man less in earnest than the blacksmith. 
 
 “ What!” and the exclamation of the astounded dauber was 
 accompanied by an expectoration of disdain. “What! you? 
 who are yotj, to ask for my daughter, the high-born Fraulein 
 Annetchen von Schmidt, only child and heiress of the Frei¬ 
 herr Johannes von Schmidt, Painter in Extraordinary to the 
 Burgesses of the Catholic city of Antwerp !” 
 
 “ H umph ! painter in very extraordinary,” was the sotto voce 
 comment of the lover, catching a side glance at the daub. 
 But that was not what he said, aloud; it very often happens 
 that what we say aloud, is not what we silently think. What 
 he said aloud was : 
 
 “You are a great artist, Mynherr von Schmidt, and I am 
 only a poor worker in iron ; but all the same, I want your 
 daughter.” 
 
 “ By Saint Aloysius of Bamberbustel, then, all I can say is, 
 that you will continue to want her !” thundered the painter. 
 “Know, man of leather aprons and cinder heaps, that my 
 daughter shall never marry any one but an artist. Ay, I go 
 further, so as to extinguish your unreasonable hopes at once. 
 
92 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 She shall never marry even an artist, who is not superior to 
 myself. There, we have had enough, I think, of this impudent 
 nonsense —get!” (or words to that effect.) 
 
 But young Petrus Baengherz did not remove from his stool; 
 he merely fumbled for a moment in the pocket of his doublet, 
 and pulled out a florin. 
 
 “ Heads or tails, whether you give me one year or two years 
 to try to win her !” he said, as he spun up the florin in the air 
 and it came down with the tail uppermost. “ Ah, well, it is 
 tails, and I can wait. In two years, Mynherr von Schmidt, I 
 shall claim your daughter, and take her !” And he (careful 
 young man) put the Porin back into his doublet pocket. 
 
 “ What ! In defiance of my will ?” angrily demanded the 
 painter. 
 
 “ No, in pursuance of your will,” was the reply. “ If I am 
 not a greater artist than yourself, and if you do not acknowl¬ 
 edge that I am, in two years, make your daughter up into 
 sausages, for all she can ever be to me! If I do, remember 
 the other side of the story. Good morning !” 
 
 “ Bah ! you an artist!” sneered the painter, as his trouble¬ 
 some guest disappeared. Then he rang the bell (or whatever 
 else of the sort was at hand), and commanded the presence of 
 his daughter. Annetchen came, bewitchingly lovely, and 
 naturally in wonder what could be wanted of her at that time 
 of day. 
 
 ‘‘A young brute of a blacksmith, named Petrus Baengherz, 
 has been here, and says that he loves you.” 
 
 “ Yes, pa ; ” the fact being accepted as the most natural thing 
 in the world. 
 
 “ He wishes to marry you !” 
 
 “Yes, pa !” that fact, too, seeming quite natural. 
 
 “ Humph ! do you love him?" 
 
 “Yes, pa!”—the third point thus being settled with the 
 same brevity. 
 
 “ Now, look here, young lady !” broke out the irate father, 
 who had thus far restrained himself wonderfully, “ we have 
 had just enough of this infernal nonsense, and you may pre- 
 
OVER TO ANTWERP. 
 
 93 
 
 pare yourself to fall in love with the first respectable man I 
 bring you ! Do you hear ?” 
 
 “ Yes, pa.” 
 
 “That will do, then. Go off. I have settled Mynherr 
 Petrus Baengherz, with his diabolical impudence, by inform¬ 
 ing him that my daughter should only be allowed to marry a 
 great artist—even a greater one than myself; and he—St. 
 Ernebastus of Dickenswivel!—do you know what he said ?” 
 
 “ No, pa ; ” as was very natural under the circumstances. 
 
 “ He played me heads or tails whether he should wait one or 
 two years before he came after you, and boasted that in the 
 two years he would be the great artist who would have a 
 right to marry you ! Ila ! ha ! ha ! ho ! ho ! ho ! ” and the 
 dauber, for the first time that day, merry over the recollection 
 of the pitiful boast, laughed until he was obliged to hold his 
 sides with his hands. 
 
 “Yes, pa.” To which part of her sire’s last words this 
 applied, seemed doubtful. 
 
 “ That is all. You understand me!” (Which she did not.) 
 “Go !” And she went. 
 
 All chronicles of the day, while they narrate the behavings 
 of petty princes, the doings of insignificant commonwealths, 
 and other small deer of that order, unaccountably fail to say 
 anything of the occurrences of the next two years in the 
 household of Johannes von Schmidt and the life of lovely 
 Annetchen. Then the curtain lifts with the same suddenness 
 that marked its descent, and all is clear thereafter. 
 
 At exactly two years from the visit of Petrus Baengherz, 
 to the day and the hour, the young man stood again in the 
 painter’s presence, in the same spot—the studio. (The daub 
 had gone away on its journey to become a fireboard.) It was 
 the first reappearance, at least to the eyes of the father ; of 
 what had occurred with the daughter nothing can be said, for 
 obvious reasons. 
 
 “Ha! What do you want ? ” demanded the dauber, recog¬ 
 nizing the unwelcome figure, a trifle older and the face a trifle 
 more bearded. 
 
94 
 
 OVER HALF-EUROPE. 
 
 “ I want you." 
 
 “For what? Are you playing the devil, and have a fancy 
 that you have come for me?” 
 
 “ No ; but I want you, and at once. Come ! ” 
 
 There was something indefinably impressive in the words 
 and the gesture ; and the painter, though he did not know 
 why he should do so, accompanied his summoner. They de¬ 
 scended into the street, and the elder man followed the steps 
 of the younger, with some difficulty keeping up, as the former, 
 with long strides, led the way eastward and to the smoky 
 quarter of the Borg Strasse. All this, without another word. 
 They passed into the shop which two years before had been 
 that of Jacobus von Boobervaert, now that of his quondam 
 apprentice. They passed through the rear door into the back 
 yard, the painter moving somewhat hastily to escape possible 
 grime from the forge. 
 
 “ Here is where I have something to show you,” said the 
 young man ; and Von Schmidt looked to see where anything 
 could be, worth the looking at. All that he saw, was a hoard¬ 
 ing of upright boards, ten or twelve feet in height, by four or 
 five feet square, and tacked together with nails. Very naturally 
 he said, what has since been repeated verv irreverently, not 
 to say slangily: 
 
 “ I don’t see it! ” 
 
 “ No, but you will! ” 
 
 As he spoke, the young man seized one of the loose boards 
 of the hoarding, and pulled it down. Another followed, and 
 another. Then the painter saw that there was iron-work 
 within. Ilalf-a-dozen additional pulls, and all the hoarding 
 lay on the pavement of the dingy back yard, and the astonished 
 eyes of the would-not-be father-in-law had the first sight, of 
 any living man except the creator, of the most marvellous 
 specimen of skill and taste in hammering iron ever looked 
 upon, either in the ages past or present, 
 
 Who shall describe that wonderful canopy of wrought iron, 
 which to this day forms the very apotheosis of that metal in 
 the world? Who shall tell of the delicacy of the leaves and 
 
OVER TO ANTWERP. 
 
 95 
 
 tendrils in hundreds, gemming the heavier portions of the 
 work, and proving that the eye which observed the originals 
 in nature, must have been only less deft than the hand that 
 moulded them again in the ductile iron ? And what marvel 
 that the painter (though only a dauber) stood spell-bound be¬ 
 fore this new revelation of human genius ? He was aroused, 
 after some minutes, by the voice of Baengherz : 
 
 “ That is my work, Mynherr Johannes von Schmidt; and 
 I have brought you here to show it to you, as the first man to 
 whom I have exhibited it, and to ask you whether I am or am 
 not an artist?" 
 
 The dauber was not a fool. He knew, to use a modern 
 phrase, “ a good thing when he saw it.” He took one more 
 look at the marvel, then turned and grasped the hand of the 
 young man, with something like huskiness in his voice, as he 
 said: 
 
 “It is the most glorious piece of iron-work in the world ! 
 The man who has wrought it is an artist fit to have worked 
 with Michael Angelo.” 
 
 “Is it worth your daughter?” was the next question, a 
 highly practical one. 
 
 “A thousand times, yes !—take her, for you have won her.” 
 
 “ Not yet, though I thank you for the admission. Let that 
 iron-work drink the sun for the first time, while I show you 
 something else.” 
 
 The dazed painter followed him back through the rear door 
 of the shop, and up a flight of dark and narrow stairs. There 
 was the smell of paint in the room of bare boards, and pots of 
 colors and jars of oil stood around it. In the middle of the 
 room stood an easel covered with a cloth. Baengherz threw 
 off the cloth, and the “ Descent from the Cross,” for centuries 
 now the pride of the Antwerp Museum, showed in its sorrow¬ 
 ful truth of drawing and sad splendor of color. The painter 
 stood spell-bound before it, until again aroused by the voice 
 of the young man, this time with the hand laid on his shoulder : 
 
 “That I have just finished; and I am glad if Annetchen 
 von Schmidt’s father likes it. Am I an artist ?" 
 
96 
 
 O VER HALF E UROPE. 
 
 The reply to this was Johannes von Schmidt falling on his 
 knees before the awful nobility of the Dead Christ, bowing 
 his head, and while in that position drawing the hand of 
 Quentin Matsys (Petrus Baengherz no longer) to his lips, while 
 he muttered in a voice almost broken by tears: 
 
 “ That should teach you to forgive, my son/ Forgive me. I 
 did not know; 1 could not understand. It is for me to offer 
 my daughter to you, now, if you will accept her.” 
 
 Quentin Matsys did accept her, quickly enough, and they 
 were married almost immediately. Great painter as he after¬ 
 wards became, he is almost always called, in history and legend, 
 the “ Blacksmith of Antwerp.” But there is nothing else 
 that he did, in a somewhat long life, in iron or upon canvas, 
 comparable with that wondrous canopy of hammered iron 
 which stands at near the corner of Antwerp Cathedral, and 
 beside which the Governor bored the Artist with the story 
 almost in the words here repeated. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA MEDAL OF 1876. 
 
ANTWERP CATHEDRAL, ART AND HISTORY. 
 
 They seem to have the sweetest church and cathedral bells 
 in the world in Belgium, which may be the reason why at 
 Bruges and some of the other cities they indulge in the 
 “carillons” so delighting some travellers and so pestering 
 others. At all events, the Governor and the Artist (who did 
 not always agree) agreed that the bells of Antwerp Cathedral, 
 sounding as they went up from the ship to the great building, 
 were among the sweetest they remembered—hoarsely sweet, 
 if the propriety of the phrase may be recognized, and suggest¬ 
 ing the very sound in Longfellow’s poem, when 
 
 “-The great bell tolled among them, like the chanting of a friar.’’ 
 
 The forced inspection of the iron canopy of Quentin Matsys, 
 and the forced hearing of the long story thereanent, being 
 over, they entered the Cathedral (Notre Dame), and found 
 themselves once more under Gothic arches brown with age 
 and sacred with old memories. It needs scarcely to be said 
 that service was going on, as it seems always to be in the great 
 religious houses of Catholic countries, proving that devotion 
 is not, there, as in the Protestant lands, principally a thing 
 only of the Sabbath. And what music that was, whether the 
 hearer was able to associate any special sacredness with the 
 ceremony, or not! The great organ once more reminded the 
 Governor of those days in which he heard the solemn thunders 
 rolling through the arches of Strasbourg and Berne ; and the 
 priestly voices chanting with it embodied the very spirit of 
 the religion of the Middle Ages, of which the Artist, when 
 reminded of the fact, said that, “then it appropriately belonged 
 to the middle aged ”—putting his own gray head and that of 
 his companion at that mild figure ! 
 
 The rows of side-chapels of Antwerp Cathedral are by no 
 means splendid, in comparison with many others ; and the high 
 altar suffers so much when one remembers either Notre Dame, 
 
OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 at Paris, Strasbourg, or the recklesslv-splendid Constance, 
 that the parallel is little less than painful. All the better for 
 devotion, perhaps; for many visits to the great European 
 cathedrals, during service, have failed to show any greater 
 devotion among the attendance than on this occasion was ex¬ 
 hibited by the Catholic Flemings. 
 
 But unquestionably the great features for which the inside 
 of the Cathedral is visited are the paintings, especially of 
 Rubens, about which one of the most astounding heresies is 
 now to be uttered. First among these comes what is called 
 Rubens’ masterpiece, the “ Taking Down from the Cross,” 
 otherwise and improperly called the “ Descent from the 
 Cross.” The picture is said to have been given by the 
 painter for the ground on which he built his house in the 
 city ; and so highly have some of the points in it been esti¬ 
 mated, that Sir Joshua Reynolds (who should have known, 
 though he by no means always painted well) is reported to 
 have pronounced the Christ of this composition “ one of the 
 very finest that ever was invented, with correct drawing, 
 though in a position the most difficult in all art to execute.” 
 So it may be ; and there is reason to believe that the Artist 
 agreed with him. But the Governor begged to dissent, and 
 to say that though he recognized the terrible fiainfulness of 
 the picture, he by no means thought it comparable with 
 others of the works of the same master in the Parisian 
 Louvre and elsewhere. So of his “ Elevation of the Cross,” 
 in the north transept of the same building, his “ Resurrection 
 of the Saviour,” and his “Assumption of the Virgin.” All 
 show the pencil of the great master ; but coming away from 
 all of them, the impression is not weakened that Rubens was 
 essentially not a religious painter, and that no labor of his 
 in that direction ever told so well for his genius, whatever it 
 may have done for his moral nature, as in his historical pic¬ 
 tures with what may be called allegorical fittings, better 
 shown in the Louvre and in the collection at Munich than in 
 any other part of the art-world. There is a picture by 
 Quentin Matsys here, too, but it seems _to be of a period 
 earlier than his best and is principally valuable for his name. 
 
OVER TO ANTWERP. 
 
 99 
 
 But if there may be a difference of opinion as to the picto¬ 
 rial glories of Notre Dame, no question exists as to its charm 
 in another variety of art. The carved pulpit is simply magni¬ 
 ficent in design and execution—possibly with only St. Gudule 
 at Brussels, its superior ; and very little less can be said of 
 the Gothic stalls of the choir, which attract the eye and pro¬ 
 voke a return again and again to some half-overlooked and 
 charming detail. 
 
 It is at the Museum, not far from the Cathedral, and said to 
 have been formed from an old convent, that the picture-world 
 of Antwerp is really at its best. Many of the best works of 
 Vandyck, Rubens, Jordaens, Teniers, Ruysdael and others are 
 there; and there is Quentin Matsys’ “Descent from the 
 Cross,” already spoken of in the last previous paper, and cer¬ 
 tainly alive, after nearly four hundred years, with the light of 
 genius that shone on it at birth, with woman’s love to give it 
 direction. But that and all other pictures in the really great 
 collection go down before a masterpiece that for once no one 
 seems disposed to dispute—the “ Crucifixion,” of Antony 
 Vandyck. No wonder that Scott depicted Cromwell standing 
 before the picture of Charles I., by the same hand that painted 
 this, and acknowledging that for once the painter had been 
 able to depict an actual life , on which he dares not look. The 
 awfully glorious scene, on which hang all the best hopes of 
 humanity, has never elsewhere been so portrayed ; description 
 is impossible ; and truth to say the Governor was not sur¬ 
 prised to hear the Artist, after standing enraptured for some 
 minutes before it, utter a formula of words that he afterwards 
 several times repeated at Munich and Florence : 
 
 “ It is of no use, Governor ! I am not going to paint any 
 more ; and when 1 go home, I shall burn my brushes the first 
 thing.” 
 
 (In a parenthesis. He did not burn his brushes, though he 
 is now painting very little, in the lack of any incentive to 
 labor.) 
 
 But this, once more, is quite by the way. There was another 
 religious house in Antwerp beside the Cathedral of Notre 
 
 8 
 
100 
 
 0 VER IIA LF EUROPE. 
 
 Dame, to which the companions took their way, after leaving 
 the Museum. This was the Church of St. Jacques, behind 
 the high altar of which (appropriate place for one who had 
 decorated so many !) Rubens has slept, with his family, since 
 the close of May, 1640, marble-slabbed under what was once 
 a small chapel belonging to his race. Above this altar hangs 
 one of the very best preserved of his paintings, the “ Adora¬ 
 tion of St. Bonaventura,” rendered especially interesting by 
 his having introduced into it portraits of himself (as St. 
 George), his grandlather, father, and two wives, among the 
 adorers of the I nfant Saviour (and may we not say the Virgin ?). 
 
 But enough of art, of this character, even for Antwerp. 
 The Hotel de Ville is said to have some fine modern historical 
 frescoes; but they must be taken upon trust—as must the 
 rumored existence of some of the houses once occupied by 
 Alva, Parma, the Prince of Orange, and other sharers in the 
 old city’s history, for want of time to look them up and an in¬ 
 telligent and not-too-lying guide to point the way to them. 
 It was not so much trouble to find the plain old house of 
 Rubens, on the street of the same name, and to think of the 
 acres of designs that must have floated through the brain of 
 the great painter, under that roof—as well as to wonder 
 whether one of the English Dukes, him of Newcastle, who 
 resided here, and here entertained Charles II. during his 
 exile, may not have been obliged also to entertain a pretty 
 numerous family of fat flying cherubs, the embodiments of 
 those the dead painter had so plentifully scattered over his 
 canvases. 
 
 Rubens has a splendid colossal statue, with the ever-mem- 
 orable broad hat and feather, in the Grand Place; and the 
 Governor, who has a natural belief in avoirdupois, remarked to 
 the Artist that if they would promise him something like that, 
 in America, for writing better books than Shakspeare, excel¬ 
 ling Bonaparte in arms, or Metternich in diplomacy, or any 
 little thing of that character, he thought that he should go to 
 work at once and do it. There is a much less pretentious statue 
 of Teniers (the exact opposite of Rubens, in every particular) 
 
OVER TO ANTWERP. 
 
 101 
 
 in one of the squares, the name of which does not occur; 
 and thus Antwerp, which boasts of having given birth to 
 Rubens, Vandyck, Jordaens and Quentin Matsys, has at least 
 “ statued ” two of them and well “ pictured ” the others. 
 
 One stands with somewhat more of hating respect before 
 the Citadel of Antwerp (part of the noble fortifications which 
 make it one of the best defended cities in Europe) when re¬ 
 membering that the Duke of Alva commenced it in 1568, at 
 the moment when he believed that his own foot, and that of 
 the Spaniard collectively, were permanently on the neck of 
 the Flemings. It is as stern and grim as that old cut-throat 
 could have been, and seems good, with its immense modern 
 additions, for at least half-a-dozen centuries yet to come. It 
 stands on the right bank of the Scheldt, just at the upper 
 confines of the city ; and its “ star” of batteries is so arranged 
 and so comprehensive that it could equally well sweep city 
 and river. Beside it is the Place d’Arms, the Champ de 
 Mars of Antwerp; and a little further inland, and adjoining, 
 the Esplanade, the favorite promenade of the citizens. The 
 fortifications do not end with the Citadel, however: on the 
 opposite bank, a little below, is the very strong Tete de Flan- 
 dre ; still farther below, on the same side, is smaller Fort Aus- 
 truwell ; and below the city, and again on that side of the river, 
 is the very large five-sided Fort du Nord : the whole array be¬ 
 ing quite sufficient to frighten away an intending foe less per¬ 
 sistent than the French in their long leaguer thirty or forty 
 years ago. They thoroughly command the navigation of the 
 Scheldt, so far as fortifications can do so,—though they will 
 probably not open again upon a vessel in the river for many a 
 long day. For the days of Alva are long past, and- 
 
 Here the reminder comes in, that quite another figure than 
 the grim Spaniard’s might just as reasonably have been 
 expected to start up at one of the corners, in the fanciful 
 hint of the previous paper. This figure would have been 
 much shorter than the other, and stouter, wearing a gray 
 redingote and a little cocked hat over a shaven face super- 
 naturally handsome arid sad-looking. It would have been 
 
102 
 
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 that of Napoleon I., Emperor of the French, to whom Ant¬ 
 werp owes it that she has recovered something of what she 
 lost through the cruelty and stupidity of the Spaniard ; and 
 one is not quite sure that a statue of that man of power and 
 mystery might not well have place on one of the public 
 squares, or on the broad Place de Mere, the wide and shaded 
 principal street, rivalling almost any other in Europe. 
 
 For why ? 
 
 Simply because the Emperor, whether for ends selfish to 
 himself or not, makes no difference—saw and recognized the 
 nobility of the situation of the city on the Scheldt, and took 
 means to make that knowledge valuable. Thousands of the 
 most skilful artisans and the most enterprising merchants 
 drifted away from her during and following the persecutions 
 of Philip II., and Alva ; and when the “ pacification ” with 
 Spain was made in 1679, a virtual end was put to the commer¬ 
 cial greatness of the city, by closing the port to shipping and 
 making it a mere place of boats. It dwindled then and there¬ 
 after to a mere city of the dilletanti, famous for some noble 
 buildings and many pictures, and with nothing more. Napo¬ 
 leon saw beyond all this, when for a time it formed part of the 
 great French First Empire ; and he commenced to make it the 
 rival of London and the great commercial port of the North. 
 To him Antwerp owes many of her noble fortifications, docks, 
 yards for ship-building, and other resources, thanks to which 
 so much of the prosperity of the past has been regained and 
 her place in the future made a certainty. Even though Bel¬ 
 gium remain Belgium, and the foot of the Frenchman no more 
 tread the streets of Antwerp as a master (as no such foot will 
 —much more likely the German), why should not the First 
 Emperor have a statue, for gratitude ? And why should the 
 Governor not meet his grave shade at the corner of a street, 
 quite as likely as that of the fierce and relentless Alva? 
 
 It is less than an hour’s ride over the fertile fields of Flan¬ 
 ders (so much a better name than Belgium, that the pen 
 adheres to it in spite of modern geographical designations), 
 less than an hour’s ride to that other old Flemish capital 
 
OVER TO ANTWERP. 
 
 103 
 
 which divided with Antwerp the glory of the past and divides 
 with it the growing prosperity of the present—Brussels. And 
 thither the two companions took their way, with the one city 
 thus literally “ skimmed ” and little more. 
 
 BefiLi @r 
 
ZXIII- 
 
 GODFREY DE BOUILLON, aND BRUSSELS. 
 
 It is indicated, in another connection, in this volume, that 
 some one person or thing may virtually take possession of a 
 city, to the mind of the traveller—so that thereafter the thing 
 contained will be first remembered, and the place containing 
 it left to be afterwards recalled. Such, duly shown, is the case 
 with Cologne and its Cathedral; and such, though to a less 
 extent, is the case with Brussels and the statue of the Great 
 Crusader, standing in bronze in the Place Royale. The Gov¬ 
 ernor remembered this, most closely oi all, when he left Brus¬ 
 sels after a first visit, though delighted with everything about 
 the sunny and handsome Belgian capital ; and he remembered 
 it first, after a second, and when a score of other attractions 
 had contended with it for mastery. 
 
 Perhaps no man in history has been more truly honored 
 than Godfrey of Bouillon, Duke of Brabant, leader of the 
 Great Crusade and King of Jerusalem. Perhaps no man has 
 better deserved his celebrity, if that is true which is told of 
 him—that no success made him arrogant, no failure despond¬ 
 ent, no injustice to himself unjust to others; that he fought 
 alone to free the Holy Sepulchre from the dominion of the 
 Saracen, without any hope or thought of personal or territorial 
 aggrandizement; and that, when elected King of Jerusalem, by 
 the unanimous voices of the knightly host accompanying him, 
 he refused to wear a kingly crown in the city where his Mas¬ 
 ter had worn one of thorns, and adhered to the helmet of 
 battle as the true head-covering of the Warrior of the Cross. 
 This is a wondrous character ; and yet it would seem to have 
 had a sure foundation in history and reputable legend. The 
 testimony of warriors who by no means agreed among them¬ 
 selves, seems to have been unanimous as to the sterling worth 
 and goodness of “ Ic bon Godcfroi ” ; and how strong an influ¬ 
 ence he left upon the mind of the times following him within 
 
BE BOUILLON AND BRUSSELS 
 
 1C5 
 
 a few centuries, is shown by the fact that Tasso, in the “Geru- 
 saiemme Liberata,” one of the works justly comparable with 
 the “ Iliad ” and infinitely in advance of “ Paradise Lost,” 
 while showing the weaknesses and at times the vices of 
 Rinaldo, of Tancrcd, of Raymond, of Boehemond, and all the 
 other persons of that wondrous knightly array, — has not one 
 word, except of reverance and devotion, for the native of an¬ 
 other land than his and the ruler of still another. It would 
 seem that nature had for once done a work almost perfect; 
 and in such a behalf, others than the Governor will forgive 
 those who raised his most impressive statue in the most con¬ 
 spicuous spot of the whole city of Brussels. 
 
 The statue, comparatively modern, of bronze and slightly 
 colossal size, by Simonis, is a noble one, and worthy the fame 
 it commemorates of the man whose name belongs to his birth¬ 
 place (French Boulogne-sur-Mer—“ Bouillon,”) but all whose 
 glory, not of the Crusades, is the property of his ducal Flan¬ 
 ders. In the lull panoply of his approach to the Holy City, 
 flat-helmed and with the truncheon of command, he bears the 
 flag of the Crusade sweeping down on his shoulder, while his 
 horse, spurred forward, but half recoiling, is in one of the best 
 sculpturesque attitudes for displaying the nobility of his Ara¬ 
 bian breed. No statue in Europe more closely enchains the 
 eye ; none is longer or more admiringly remembered ; perhaps 
 partially for this, as well as for the great glory of the knightly 
 Crusader, it holds pre-eminence among the attractions of the 
 Belgian capital. 
 
 “Apres moi, le deluge! ” is said to have remarked a French 
 King who cared very little for the future ; and Duke Godfrey, 
 if sensitive on the subject of the Governor's next rumina¬ 
 tion, might say : “Apres mot, Is arbres!” For the next thing 
 in Brussels is certainly a cluster of such trees as only three 
 or four other places on earth can hope to rival. The Elms of 
 New Haven make half the glory of that New World uni¬ 
 versity-town, and they have never been excelled in their size 
 and arching glory; those of Versailles are worthy peers, 
 sometimes creating a doubt whether they are not actually the 
 
106 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 finer; and there are rows of those arboreal incarnated splen¬ 
 dors, along the grounds of Lord Leigh, on the road between 
 Kenilworth Castle and Coventry, with no cause to vail their 
 proud heads to any others on the globe. But here, in the 
 Royal Park of Brussels,—here are the worthy peers of any 
 others yet named. Grand in trunk, glorious in arch and foli¬ 
 age, and perfect in alignment, they stand along those avenues, 
 equally forming cathedral-arches whether swept at the length 
 of the square paths or diagonally; and they make the heart 
 literally ache with the sense of their perfection, as the sun 
 shimmers through their leaves, and the birds twitter and sing 
 in the branches, and the swans come out from their haunt in 
 the little lake to strut ungainly along the well-kept walks be¬ 
 neath them. Yonder, just across the Place du Palais, is the 
 Royal Palace, a noble plain building, and worthily-enough 
 filled by the second Leopold who has reigned in Belgium ; but 
 what is the Palace, which any educated set of men could 
 build, and any ignorant set of men could destroy, to those 
 trees, “God's first temples,” ay, and His palaces, in the truest 
 sense of the word, giving new shapes of beauty to the earth 
 at every wave of their branches, smiling in the sunshine, 
 braving the storm, and standing sentry over the mere watch- 
 tick rise and fall of the centuries ! 
 
 Having thus rhapsodized, let us descend the hill (a some¬ 
 what steep one, though only a little distance from the Park 
 and the Palace Royal) to the Cathedral, for once, much better 
 known as St. Gudule. It is a noble church, said to have been 
 founded in ioiq, and restored on the outside (actually “ re¬ 
 stored,” they say—not built over and differently) in the mid¬ 
 dle of the fifteenth century. It is of chaste Gothic construc¬ 
 tion, and has two square towers creating something of the 
 impression of those of Notre Dame at Paris, though much 
 lighter and less oppressive. They have the reputation—those 
 towers-—of showing Antwerp distinctly from their tops. Very 
 likely: neither the Governor nor the Artist went up to ascer¬ 
 tain ; nor did they call for the weighing of the great bell, said 
 to have a ponderosity of nearly eight tons. They merely 
 
DE BOUILLON AND BRUSSELS. 
 
 ior 
 
 took an admiring survey of the whole building, from without, 
 classing it with the best of the great religious houses so freely 
 strown over the world ; and then they went within, to see 
 many things worth remembering, and one thing so overpower- 
 ingly admirable that the Artist, who was not in the habit of 
 making like confessions, said that his pencil was not equal to 
 the task of drawing it, with opportunity and an hundred 
 years for the work. 
 
 This was the carved ivooden pulpit —so immeasurably supe¬ 
 rior to anything that Grinling Gibbons ever did, that it takes 
 rank at once as the very best thing of its kind in the 
 world, and must always henceforth be referred to as 
 the basis of comparison when anything notable of the 
 class comes into view. For these life-size figures of 
 Adam and Eve, in the “Expulsion from Paradise,” by good 
 old Dutch Verbruggen, which forms its subject,—and 
 the Tree of Knowledge, forming the support of the pulpit — 
 and Virgin and Child at the top, the former preparing to 
 bruise the head of the Serpent with the Cross—these are so 
 wonderful in their naturalness of form and ease of handling, 
 that no touch seems wanting, and any additional one could 
 only mar what is nothing less than perfect. As the very 
 highest development of the capacity of wood, this work is far 
 beyond criticism ; and one’s mind almost aches with the 
 thought that such works are done, and the great workmen go 
 away, and fall asleep, and often even their very names are for¬ 
 gotten. Something else than the capacity of wood, too, this 
 pulpit tests, occasionally: in the visit of the Artist and the 
 Governor, it brought out a manifestation of reverence in 
 the former, very touching and quite worth putting upon record. 
 
 “Well, I don’t think that I have ever made such a row 
 over that little contretemps in the Garden, as some others,” 
 placidly said the man of pictures. “ Now I am going a little 
 further, if your exquisite propriety does n't mind.” 
 
 “ As how ? ” sententiously asked the Governor. 
 
 “ Why, just to the extent of saying that I am rather glad it 
 occurred,” was the reply. “ For if there had been nothing of 
 
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 the kind, or nothing of the kind recorded, there would have 
 been no such pulpit as this for St. Gudule ; and Adam and 
 Eve may go out willingly for all me, for the sake of such a 
 representation.” 
 
 “ In which expression of opinion it is very well that you 
 did not indulge, in any language capable of being understood, 
 in the days when St. Gudule was entirely ruled by Rome and 
 the Inquisition ; for j'ou would have been burned for irrever¬ 
 ence and blasphemy — and very nearly deserved what you 
 got,” commented the Governor, with an internal chuckle of 
 satisfaction. 
 
 St. Gudule has some splendidly painted windows, in which 
 the pencils of Florens (a painter of whom very little has been 
 heard) and Roger Van der Weyde (one of whom every art- 
 student knows) seem to have taken part. From the former, 
 the “Last Judgment,” in the great window of the Cathedral, 
 comes ; and from the latter, the “ Miracles and the Sacra¬ 
 ment,” only less attractive and wonderful. 
 
 It is almost incredible, but the Artist, who was “ saving him¬ 
 self” for Munich and Florence, did not so nearly overwhelm 
 his unfortunate companion at the Palace of the Fine Arts, 
 otherwise known as the Bibliothique and M useum, as the victim 
 had naturally expected. This double collection holds a great 
 rank in the world, and deserves it ; while the old palace (not 
 far from the Place Royale) in which the treasures are gathered, 
 is full of memories of the old Spanish and Austrian governors, 
 who long made it their residence. Many of the pictures once 
 belonging to the royal family of Holland, and sold off by one 
 of the kings who had grown tired of them and wanted money, 
 are here ; and there are several Rubenses, and Vandycks, and 
 indeed, specimens of nearly every great painter before the pres¬ 
 ent century ; and so much said, the level is easily understood— 
 a respectable one, almost a high one, not really a great one. 
 The Library, a really splendid one, is said to contain 200,000 
 volumes—too many for any one place, at the present length 
 of man’s life; and the Museum of Natural History (always 
 a bore, except to some comparative student or an idle man) is 
 said to be one of the finest in Europe. 
 
DE BOUILLON AND BRUSSELS. 
 
 109 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to say that after St. Gudule, none of 
 the other religious houses of Brussels, though they were many 
 and with only a few less “ Saints ” than belonged to churchly 
 Cologne, attracted the wandering steps of the companions. 
 No; leaving the Royal Park, they had become aware of a line 
 of railway cars, bearing on their sides, with certain other 
 “ hails,” the name of the Bois du Cambre, known even to the 
 neophyte visitors, to be the great Park of Brussels, and re¬ 
 ported to be one of the largest and one of the finest in the 
 European world (Central Park and Boston Common for once 
 left out of the question). Accordingly, they took one of those 
 railway carriages, very like New York in theirgeneral arrange¬ 
 ment, except that they managed two “ classes ” for the two 
 different styles of riders, and went out to it by a very pleasant 
 road, most of the way planted with double rows of trees at the 
 sides (a la boulevard) with foot-walks between them. And 
 they emerged from the car at the gateway of the Bois du 
 Cambre, perhaps three miles from the Place Royale and the 
 centre of the city—to enter therein, and to see such an actual 
 forest, splendidly kept and well regulated, as might vainly be 
 searched for elsewhere on the continent. If ever wildness is 
 trained to consort with beauty without sacrificing itself or de¬ 
 stroying the other, then is it to be found in the Bois du Cambre, 
 formed during the last twenty years out of a section of the 
 old Forest of Soignes which formed so fatal a part of the bat¬ 
 tle field of Waterloo to Napoleon. In no other park of any of 
 the great cities are there such deeply shaded roads, such bosky 
 dells, such haunts for the most lonely solitude, even within a 
 few hundred yards of a crowded thoroughfare and in the im¬ 
 mediate vicinity of a great city. The trees are numberless, 
 among the tops and branches of which roared and thundered 
 the sounds of the cannon that day decidingthe fate of Europe ; 
 and one can scarcely avoid listening, if the ominous echo has 
 all rolled away. And one may wander on and on, deeper and 
 deeper into the veritable forest, always on well kept roads, 
 but seeing and hearing no one except now and again a rider 
 on horseback or a party in a carriage—on and on, deeper and 
 
110 
 
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 deeper into the forest of grand old trees and dusky dells, un¬ 
 til the world seems all left behind, and the question whether 
 one is not lost and can ever get back again to the gateway and 
 to Brussels, becomes worth considering. 
 
 This by no means of all thisgreat pleasure-ground. There is 
 a Casino, not far within the gate, where the cooling prepara¬ 
 tions, and eke the cooling drinks, of the hot summer, may be 
 procured in plenty and excellence ; and the Governor and his 
 companion remember well the procurement of certain straw¬ 
 berries there, worthy of Merrie England at the period of the 
 “Queens,” and of certain potables, dimly suspected to be 
 champagnes, marvellously well-cooled and satisfactory. Then, 
 at certain parts of the grounds, where the shade is not so 
 heavy as to produce absolute gloom, are actual pleasure- 
 grounds of the people, to which they resort with quite as 
 much freedom as to any American haunt of the same charac¬ 
 ter, and where what we suppose to be the “students” and 
 “ grisettes ” corresponding to those of Paris, take their enjoy¬ 
 ment with a hilarity to which the Bois de Boulogne could never 
 pretend. 
 
 “And now, with this glimpse of the Bois du Cambre, and 
 being so near the edge of the field of Waterloo, in the actual 
 girth of the Forest of Soignes, did you go on to the great 
 battle fie'ld ; or did you prefer to take the English Coach and 
 make the daily excursion, with guard and horn and guides 
 and all the appliances ? ” 
 
 To this supposable question, and one very often asked of 
 the visitor to Brussels, the Artist and the Governor jointly, 
 and each for himself, answer, that they not only did not go to 
 the battle field of Waterloo, but had no wish to do so. That 
 they consider the Battle of Waterloo, all things considered, 
 as having been rather a mistake, at least on the part of some 
 of the minor providences. That they have no interest what¬ 
 ever in the ugly old chateau of Hougomont, the common¬ 
 place farm of La Ilaye Sainte, or the overgrown mound on 
 which stands the belligerent Belgian Lion. That, on a certain 
 morning, which need not be specified, they even stood on the 
 
BE BOUILLON AND BRUSSELS. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Place Royale and saw that Englisii Coach drive away—four- 
 horsed, guarded, horned, filled and covered with delighted 
 passengers, who for the time had a little England in Belgium, 
 and who were going to hear stories told over again, that had 
 much better be buried, by pretenders who knew nothing what¬ 
 ever of the battle, and to buy buttons picked up on the 
 battle field that were really made last year at Birmingham. 
 And that there and then, with no disrepect whatever to the 
 memory of the Duke of Wellington, who was really one of the 
 world’s greatest warriors, they mutually agreed that the afore¬ 
 said world had had about enough of that dead issue, and lifted 
 up their voices and followed that coach with one joint and 
 sonorous “ Bah !” which meant a great many other disgusted 
 words all rolled up into one. 
 
 “What! tired of history, then, old Governor?—You, of all 
 men ? ” Another question to be answered. 
 
 No ; not tired, by any means, but disposed to pick out the 
 special illustrations desired—that is all. For the Artist and 
 the Governor did both go, reverently and with sad interest, to 
 the Old Parliament House, on the Grand Place—the old vice¬ 
 regal and imperial residence, with reminiscences of that inev¬ 
 itable but always interesting Alva, of Maria Theresa in a later 
 day, &c.; and in front of it the fine statuary group of Counts 
 Egrnont and Hoorn, on the very spot where they were treach¬ 
 erously beheaded by Spanish Philip II., after submission in 
 good faith, in defiance of the advice of William the Silent, 
 Prince of Orange, whom the astute Philip failed to catch, 
 and who not being caught, the yet more astute Cardinal 
 Granvelle said, that, “ If you have not caught that silent fish, 
 then is all your fishing for nothing !And they did admir¬ 
 ingly visit the magnificent old Hotel de Ville, on the opposite 
 side of the same square, with an open-work tower, very high, 
 and quite as elaborate and lace-work-y as that of the Cams- 
 dral of Strasbourg,—and within, very old rooms, with histori¬ 
 cal portraits and tapestry, and a splendid modern banqueting- 
 hall, with the keys of the city on a golden salver. And- 
 
 But no—the next visit, and nearly the last, had nothing to 
 
112 
 
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 do with history ; it belonged to poetry. It was to the old house 
 on the corner of two streets near the places last named (what 
 matter for the titles ?), on the first floor of which the Duchess 
 of Richmond gave the celebrated ball on the night before 
 Waterloo. The incident was of little or no consequence ; but 
 Byron saw in it something picturesque and memorable, and 
 that description which has rung round the world was the 
 result: 
 
 ‘ There was a sound of revelry by night, 
 
 And Belgium’s capital had gathered then 
 Her beauty and her chivalry,” &c. 
 
 Not because it had anything to do with Waterloo—no ; but 
 because Byron wrote of it—wrote of it with the magnificence 
 of genius, and so immortalized both the event and the respecta¬ 
 ble old house through which rung those strains of merry music 
 so soon to be changed to the booming of cannon and the 
 struggles of the mightiest of men in the dying throes of his 
 power. 
 
 This would be enough of Brussels, but for the fact that the 
 Artist discovered, in one corner of the Royal Park, a hand¬ 
 some half-open building, and a garden surrounding it—Waux 
 Hall—one of the favorite evening resorts of the Bruxellois. 
 And that he dragged the Governor there, to hold him during 
 an evening of fine music and very pleasant performance, to a 
 crowd who occupied some hundreds of chairs under the noble 
 trees with the starlight shimmering through them. And that 
 they left Brussels the next morning, with that music still ringing 
 in their ears, and each repeating what they had more than 
 once said to each other during the satisfactory sojourn—that 
 Brussels was one of the very handsomest cities on the globe, 
 for visit or residence,—with admirable side-hill location, pure 
 air, all the comforts and conveniences and many of the lux¬ 
 uries and splendors of the modern, yet with a subtle and all- 
 pervading aroma of the antique leavening the whole and fill¬ 
 ing the very sense of satisfaction. 
 
:siv. 
 
 AIX-LA-CHAPELLE AND THE POULLINER WALD- 
 
 CHEN. 
 
 The Artist and the Governor reached Aix-la-Chapelle, from 
 Brussels and Liege, on their way to the Rhine, with their 
 minds heavily charged with the historical, and everything in 
 life, dating back less than two or three centuries, of very 
 little consequence indeed. They had become “ rarefied,” so to 
 speak, with history and romance, so that they presented some 
 of the conditions of a changed atmosphere exhibiting that 
 special state. And if anything in the following relation should 
 chance to be at all mysterious and unaccountable, the expla¬ 
 nation must be found in this “ rarefaction.” Any suggestion 
 that, in the circumstances about to be related, either of them 
 was drunk, will be indignantly denied, and in point of fact re¬ 
 sented. If long lives of, &c., &c., &c., do not supply sufficient 
 guaranty of, &c., &c., &c., then the case is certainly one de¬ 
 manding (the remainder understood). 
 
 From Brussels, by Liege. But not merely through that fine 
 old Flemish city without stopping. They made a halt of some 
 hours there ; and there the Artist made and announced his 
 wonderful discovery for all future ages—that the name of 
 Belgium is merely a contraction of “ Bellgingleunr ”—all the 
 bells throughout the kingdom being kept in a constant state 
 of melodious but rather tiresome clang. They went to the 
 Liegeois Church of St. Jacques, to see a very fine organ-loft, 
 and a noble series of alto-relievos of the Crucifixion, by 
 Halkin and Thomas, only completed in 1865 ; and to the 
 Cathedral of St. Paul, to hear the saying of mass by the 
 Bishop of Liege, and to see the grand carved oak pulpit 
 (modern), very fine pictures of the “ Assumption ” and 
 “Ascension,” splendid windows (also modern), and wood¬ 
 carving and brass work generally of the highest order of 
 excellence ; and to the old Palace of the Prince Bishops of 
 
114 
 
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 Liege, to see the remains of a picturesque old fountain in the 
 quadrangle, and marvellous rows of old Roman and Egyptian 
 columns, and the building itself, high-roofed and picturesque, 
 and so steeped with recollections of Scott’s “Quentin 
 Durward ” that William de la Marck seemed likely at any 
 moment to step out and order the intruders to execution or a 
 dungeon ; and to the top of the Montague St. Martin, to catch 
 the noble view over the city, the winding Meuse, and all that 
 strange panorama; and to see the spirited equestrian statue of 
 Charlemagne, showing all the supposable qualities of that 
 mighty monarch, near the bank of the Meuse, with the 
 passing steamers and activity of that river making a strange 
 background for the imperial warrior ; and then to a rainy 
 night and much euchre (unprofitable to the Governor and no 
 improvement to his temper) at the Hotel de Suede. 
 
 After which they came on, as already noted, out of Belgium, 
 over the borders of the modern Empire, and to Aix, perhaps 
 one of the most remarkable shrines at which the half-mad 
 student of the Middle Ages ever paid his devotions. 
 
 Need it be said that they went first to the Cathedral—quite 
 as predominant as that of Cologne, though for a very different 
 reason? Not because of its grandeur, which is absolute ; or 
 the strange blending of its architecture, which, as one looks 
 at it at a few hundred feet distance, seems to mix all the styles 
 of all countries and all ages ; or the wonderfully fine altar, 
 with its very tall lights and exceptional impressiveness,—but 
 because in the stone floor is a large flat flag, bearing the preg¬ 
 nant inscription, “Carolo Magno,” and showing where, be¬ 
 neath, they set the dead conqueror in his imperial chair, with 
 the crown on his brow and the sceptre and ball in his hands, 
 and the good sword Joyeuse by his side, and all those bribes 
 against neglect and decay to which Death pays no more atten¬ 
 tion than lo the rags of the meanest beggar. They knew that 
 the body of the Great Emperor had been removed long ago— 
 or at least parts of it—and that the emblems of his power 
 had been scattered, to Rome and Vienna and a dozen of other 
 places; and yet it was something to stand above what had 
 
A1X-LA-CHAPELLE, &c. 
 
 115 
 
 been his actual tomb, and to feel creeping around them the 
 indefinable impression of a greatness once moving the whole 
 world, and equally compelling that world’s fear and admiration. 
 Perhaps the effect of the occasion was not diminished, but 
 rather added to, by the fact that at the altar, within the glare 
 of the circular row of lights always kept burning above the 
 tomb, a group of children were making their first communion 
 —babyhood chattering above the memorials of the most 
 declared greatness of manhood, of things more weighty than 
 any, other than themselves, that had ever engaged the atten¬ 
 tion of the great brain so long ago dissolved into its elements. 
 
 There are certain relics and memorials, of personages well 
 known in history (sainted, most of them), which are brought 
 out and exhibited to visitors to the Cathedral, once in every 
 seven years. Why with that space between, except from an 
 application of the old Scripture seven-year period, is not 
 explained. They were last shown, they say, in 1874, and the 
 last time previous to that, when the great crowd of Paris 
 visitors of 1867 were pressing into Germany and up the Rhine. 
 The period will accordingly arrive again, in 1881, and impatient 
 seekers after the hidden and the mysterious must wait with 
 what patience they may. 
 
 But scarcely even the Cathedral held more of interest than 
 the strange old Hotel de Ville or Rathhaus, with the very 
 atmosphere of antiquity hovering around it; its sharp dormer 
 windowed roof, front with two stories almost solid of large 
 square-headed windows, and tower at either end, half Saracen 
 minaret and half spire, with swelling knobs at intervals. 
 Nothing could possibly be more picturesque than this old pile, 
 of which the western tower is said to have stood since the 
 ninth century, as part of the old Palace of the Frankish kings, 
 wlrile the remainder was built in the fourteenth century— 
 where Charlemagne was born, and where so much of interest 
 in history took place in the far centuries. But all the main 
 architecture of the building fades into nothing in face of some 
 of the corner-pieces of the towers, as incongruous as becoming, 
 and a similar corner-piece rising from the street at the left 
 
 9 
 
116 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 corner of the front, which has all the appearance of being a 
 rather large wasps’-nest of clay, stuck by those insects at the 
 corner of a country barn. Ungraceful? No—quite the reverse. 
 But odd, beyond almost anything else to be met in the whole 
 world of travel. 
 
 In front of the Hotel de Ville is a fountain, with the pre¬ 
 dominant Charlemagne on the top of it in bronze, with sceptre 
 globe and crown ; and there remains a very fine and old interior 
 staircase, up the steps of which Charlemagne is believed to 
 have clattered his iron heel, so that the Governor followed 
 him, under the impression that he would gain courage if not 
 dominion thereby—it may be well to say, without any marked 
 success. 
 
 There are few more splendid relics of the mediaeval than 
 the old arched hall of this Hotel de Ville, lately restored, 
 though apparently without the sacrifice of any feature of the 
 original. Here all the early emperors were crowned (with 
 occasional repetitions at Rome) ; and here are some splendid 
 frescoes of Charlemagne’s coronation, his victories over the 
 Moors in Spain, &c., leading the Artist to repeat those peri¬ 
 odical suggestions of his, about throwing away his brushes 
 and pouring out his colors in the gutter. Then the Council 
 Chamber shows original portraits of Charlemagne ; of the 
 one man who followed his career of victory most closely, but 
 far excelled him in misfortunes—Napoleon ; of Josephine and 
 Maria Theresa, &c. In the street, under the windows of the 
 sacred old house, during this examination, a bear-and-monkey 
 show was going on, with appropriate music, and the congruity 
 was delightful ! And when they came out, behold almost 
 under the windows of the Rathhaus was a market, with short- 
 gowned old women selling almost everything in the way of 
 fruits and vegetables. And while the Governor fixed his atten¬ 
 tion on the market and the market people, and tried to think 
 them a few hundreds of years older than they were, the Artist 
 took out his inevitable note-book and commenced sketching 
 the wasp-nest annexe already spoken of, at the corner of the 
 building. And the Governor, being tired-, discovered an up- 
 
AIX-LA-CHAPELLE, &e. 
 
 117 
 
 turned empty basket and sat down upon it. And when he 
 arose, behold the Artist, instead of sketching the tower had 
 sketched him , on the basket, with some suspicions of carica¬ 
 ture. And the market people, being appealed to with the pic¬ 
 ture (in dumb show), did incontinently laugh and clap their 
 hands, as at something pleasant therein; though as to what 
 they laughed at the Governor knoweth not to this day, and 
 he believeth that the Artist did surreptitiously distribute 
 among them certain copper coins of that realm, to the end of 
 producing that applause for himself, and that laughter at the 
 other, aforesaid. 
 
 There are baths at Aix, and the Artist and the Governor 
 visited them—on the outside, not having any occasion for 
 closer acquaintance, either with the Kaiserbad or the Kurhaus. 
 Casually the Governor remarked to his friend, that though 
 this was Aix, and had baths connected with it, it was not Aix- 
 le-Bains (in Savoy), adding the question, whether the Artist 
 thought that there could not be an Aix without baths. “ I 
 should think that there ought not to be any aches without 
 baths, or that at all events the baths would be very good for 
 them,” was the mysterious reply, which may need some ex¬ 
 planation to the reader, but is not very likely to find any. 
 
 Here follows the singular feature connected with the visit 
 to Aix-la-Chapelle, which induced the statement at the com¬ 
 mencement of this paper, that neither of the parties was 
 dru.nk, as at least one of them might have been suspected to 
 be, after the last revelation. On the way from Liege the two 
 friends encountered a Heidelburg student on the train, with 
 whom they entered into conversation with reference to the 
 old city they were about to visit. During that conversation, 
 the student mentioned the existence, at a short distance in 
 the suburbs of Aix, of a singular spot named the Poulliner 
 Waldchen (or Little Wood of Paulina), alleging that there had 
 once been buried a lady of that name, daughter of one of the 
 Roman Emperors, and that interesting remains, monuments, 
 &c., were still to be found at that place. Enough of the 
 antique and singular seemed to hover round the locality to 
 
118 
 
 OVER HALF-EUROPE. 
 
 attract both his hearers—the attraction probably added to 
 rather than diminished by the fact that no one at the hotel at 
 Aix appeared to know anything of such a place or such a 
 name. An outsider was found, eventually, who solved the 
 difficulty. He could not speak English or French, and neither 
 of the inquirers could speak or understand German ; but the 
 information was asked for and communicated— somehow. " Der 
 Poulliner Waldchen ? Oh, Ja ! ” And forthwith he gave direc¬ 
 tions for finding it, principally with his eyes and hands. At 
 last all was satisfactory, and the explorers took the direction 
 indicated (or supposed to be indicated). The sun was hot, but 
 the suburbs of Aix are very pleasant; and really, for a time, 
 the walk was enjoyable. The birds sang, and there were 
 flowers in the meadows bordering the road, and the two artis¬ 
 tic souls were delighted equally with weather, route and 
 errand. Eventually the road came to an end, and a mere foot¬ 
 path formed the continuation, reached by leaping over a fence 
 into some low ground. But even this was dry and firm, and 
 the adventurous explorers pursued their way. 
 
 Then the ground grew less solid, not to say marshy, and 
 the sun in the heavens blazed intolerably. “Artist,” said the 
 Governor, “ I am sweating awfully.” “ So am I,” said the 
 Artist, wiping his brow, as the other had not remembered to 
 do. They went on. The ground grew more marshy, not to 
 say quagmiry. The Artist suggested turning back. “What! 
 and not see the Poulliner Waldchen ! ” exclaimed the Gov¬ 
 ernor. “Perish the thought! No—we go on.” And they 
 went on, partially in a different direction from that contem¬ 
 plated, for the foot of the Artist slipped from a hummock, and 
 he went into about a foot of blueish water. “ How careless 
 you are ! See how safely / go ! ” remarked the Governor, as 
 at that moment he slipped and went into bog nearly to the 
 knees. “Ah, yes; I see!” consolingly sheered the Artist, 
 who was the next moment in deeper bog than his friend. Two 
 minutes more, and two of the most madly-perspiring of travel¬ 
 lers were in bog-mire nearly to their waists. They looked at 
 each other, and smiled grimly. “ Shall we turn back, and try 
 
AIX-LA-dllAPELLE, &c. 
 
 119 
 
 it some other way?” suggested the Governor. “After this? 
 not if I know it!—we go through, now, to the high land yonder, 
 if we do not go through the other way!” courageously 
 answered the Artist. 
 
 And so they floundered on, at various depths of German 
 bog ranging between the knees and the waist. And their 
 perseverence was rewarded ; for they came to higher ground, 
 and to a fence, on which the Artist put his hand, to leap over, 
 bui suddenly recoiled. “What is it?” asked his companion. 
 “Oh, nothing, only my hand slipped.” The Governor put his 
 hand on the fence, anl it too slipped—on another of the 
 hideous blacx slugs, like bloated little serpents, one of which 
 the Artist had first encountered. At that juncture one of the 
 reptiles laid hold of the Artist’s hand, as he tried another spot 
 on the rotting fence—laid hold and held until shaken and 
 pulled off. Close, examination showed that the wood was 
 literally alive with those hideous crawling things, and with 
 inch-long snails, thrusting out their horns. The situation was 
 becoming exciting. “How do you like this, Governor?” 
 inquired the Artist. “ Magnificently! never was better 
 pleased in my life !” was the reply, the Governor at that 
 moment making another clutch at the fence, falling over it, 
 and landing in a clump of briars that entered him, if not “ at 
 every pore,” certainly at very many. The Artist followed ; and 
 they were at last beyond the troublesome boundary, the mani¬ 
 pulator of colors having spirit enough remaining to remark 
 that “ they should have been some time in getting over, as the 
 job was a sluggish one.” “Yes; and we did it at a snail's 
 pace,” was the unscrupulous reply. 
 
 They were now on the upper side of the fence ; and beyond 
 them the ground rose considerably, with a clump of woods at 
 a still higher point, which they had reason to believe might 
 be the Waldchen. They took heart of grace, repaired damages 
 to the very slight extent of pinning up a torn trouser and 
 knocking off a little of the drying bog-mud, and prepared to 
 take the footpath showing blindly upward. But at this mo¬ 
 ment, “Good Lord !” exclaimed the Governor. A second 
 
120 
 
 OVER HALF-EUROPE. 
 
 later, the Artist echoed him, with variations. For they were 
 confronted by about the largest and the most formidable- 
 looking of possible dogs, blocking up that path, and seeming 
 to monopolize the whole region. His jaws were hanging, his 
 eyes were red and bleary, and the mane on his neck stood up 
 like wire. Whence he came was not of so much consequence 
 as when he would go. Neither of the travellers had even a 
 stick for persuasion. The Governor tried conciliation, and ap¬ 
 proached him with a “good dog!” in trembling English. A 
 growl, and a snap. The Artist tried French on him with no 
 better result. “What the deuce will we do? I don’t sup¬ 
 pose the brute understands anything but German, even for 
 ‘fine dog ’ or ‘get out!’” hoarsely suggested the Governor. 
 “ No, I suppose not,” answered the Artist, who wanted to take 
 off his hat and mop his hot head, but for the fear that the mo¬ 
 tion might not at that moment be a prudent one. At last a 
 happy thought broke over that speaking face, and the prob¬ 
 lem was solved. In an instant the Artist had turned his back 
 to the dog, dropped his lithe form nearly double, and pre¬ 
 sented his head between his legs. The effect, as the reporters 
 say, was electric. Only a single glance of the dog at that 
 awful apparition of a man with no head where it ought to be, 
 and a head upside-down between his legs, was too much for 
 the canine mind. The brute uttered a yell of dismay, as if he 
 had been severely hit, turned tail, and was off over the hill 
 with the velocity of a greyhound. The Artist straightened 
 himself, with a very red face but a chuckle of satisfaction in 
 the thought that the schoolboy trick had once more (as 
 always) proved effectual; and the Governor bemoaned in¬ 
 wardly, “Why didn’t I think of that!” without remembering 
 that “ doubling up ” is sometimes a shade difficult ! 
 
 Then they went on up the path, and the hill, to the clump 
 of trees visible above, and found the Poulliner Waldchen- 
 There was an old entrance-way of what seemed to have been 
 once part of a chapel, with some sculptures considerably de¬ 
 faced, but evidently originally fine ; there was a Roman monu¬ 
 ment, on a pedestal, with inscription too decayed to read with 
 
AIX-LA CIIAPELLE, &c. 
 
 121 
 
 any certainty ; and a little distant, in a sort of cave, was what 
 might once have been a sarcophagus—now empty and de¬ 
 serted. Around and above these strange remains, which had 
 the air of such long centuries, fine old trees cast their shade and 
 waved in the light summer wind. From the hill the view was 
 a fine one, over the valley stretching away to Aix, with the 
 city rising behind, and a train of cars passing on the railway 
 at no great distance ; and both the Artist and the Governor 
 had an idea that, whoever Paulina might have been, she had 
 once been entombed in a very pretty place, and should have 
 been allowed to sleep there until the general awakening. 
 
 What is, or was, the Poulliner Waldchen ? Neither Murray 
 nor Baedeker says anything of it; and repeated inquiries on 
 the part of the two persons most nearly concerned, have 
 failed to secure any information, or to find any one who had 
 ever seen it. Does it exist at all ? Or is it one more of those 
 mystical places of the old German legends, of which “ Ger- 
 melshauser ” is the most notable instance, having no reality 
 and only discoverable at certain times and by certain peculiar 
 persons? For the explanation given the Governor, not long 
 after, cannot be accepted. It would be too belittling, after 
 those slugs, and that bog-mud, and that dog ! But here it is : 
 
 “ Poulliner Waldchen ! Bah—there is no such place !” said 
 this authoritative informant. ‘‘ Some one sent you on a fool's 
 errand ; and you merely saw the ‘ monument ’ put up by 
 the government on that hill for astronomical or geographical 
 purposes. Your * sarcophagus ’ was no doubt a feeding- 
 trough that had been used for sheep or pigs ; and the rest of 
 the surroundings are all the result of an unhealthy imagina¬ 
 tion. I wouldn’t say much about the discovery, if I were you !” 
 
 And so nothing more will be said on the subject—partially 
 on account of that advice, and partially because there is 
 really nothing more to say. 
 
COLOGNE, AND COLOGNE CATHEDRAL. 
 
 Coming into London, and through the fashionable part of 
 it, in a carriage some years since, a droll observer, taking cog¬ 
 nizance of the statue of the Duke of Wellington, at Hyde 
 Park corner, characterized it as “the statue of a cocked hat.” 
 Any one familiar with the statue in question, remembering 
 the degree in which that article of head-covering really does 
 overshadow the figure, must be amused with the appositeness 
 of the idea; and any one entering Cologne, and intending to 
 deal with it as a city, finds it overshadowed in the same man¬ 
 ner: the city of Cologne is a Cathedral. 
 
 What was said half-drolly over the grave of Sir Christopher 
 Wren : “ Lie heavy on his bosom, earth ; he laid such weights 
 on thee !” might with equal, or even greater propriety, have 
 been used over the tomb of the architect of the Cathedral, if 
 his identity could be discovered with any certainty. For 
 assuredly no other mass of architectural construction on the 
 globe—St. Peter’s, at Rome, always duly considered—heaves 
 itself skyward with such resemblance-in-difference to Mt. Blanc 
 in the natural creation ; such an overwhelming and overpow¬ 
 ering and yet elevating impression on the poor little mortal 
 who stands in its shadow. “Can mere men, such as myself, 
 have built this wondrous aggregation of stone, little by little? 
 And, if so, what may man not do, given enough of time and 
 sufficiently favorable opportunity ?’’ Such are the questions 
 mentally asked, if not spoken in words, by many an enthusias¬ 
 tic thinker, standing, not for the first time (for no man can 
 measure it at first), in the immediate presence of this glorious 
 architectural colossus, so all-engrossing that it dwarfs the old 
 historic city surrounding it, and so long in continuous erec¬ 
 tion that much of the first stone has crumbled before the 
 whole building has been nearly finished. And thus one of the 
 great missions of architecture is accomplished, in raising the 
 
COLOGNE AND CATHEDRAL 
 
 123 
 
 mind of man to a better appreciation of his capacity as a crea¬ 
 ture, and thus in bringing him nearer to the unapproachable 
 height of the Creator. 
 
 The “old historic city,” Cologne has been called in the pre¬ 
 vious paragraph. And so it is, in the truest sense of the 
 word. Travellers from other lands, wandering through it 
 when the heat of the summer has intensified all the foul odors 
 of a city built before sewerage was known, have suffered from 
 its fetid atmosphere, and joined in the cheap wit of the cry 
 that “ Cologne water was invented on account of the foul 
 smells of the city of its origin.” In point of fact, it may prob¬ 
 ably be said that the attaching of its title to a perfume, and the 
 repetition of a certain name (Jean Marina Farina, said to be 
 the appellation of every third child born in the city, with an 
 eye to future business), have done more to belittle this virtual 
 Queen of the Rhine than any other influence could have done. 
 To be known as a depot of patent medicines or druggists’ 
 wares, is perhaps not the very highest form of celebrity; and 
 assuredly Cologne has been the sufferer by the association, 
 even if its atmosphere has been occasionally sweetened by the 
 liquid reality. 
 
 No badinage, however, can truly belittle the history of the 
 capital of the Rhenish Provinces. It dates from very nearly 
 the commencement of authentic record: it has scarcely 
 ceased in the addition of items of interest up to this day of 
 undervaluations. This German Koln (alternately Cceln) de¬ 
 rived its name, oddly enough, from dropping the important 
 part of its Roman designation, Agrippina Colonia , and retain¬ 
 ing only that portion which marked it as a “ colony,” 
 called after the daughter of the Emperor Germanicus, here 
 born and cradled, when Germanicus commanded the sixteen 
 legions keeping “watch on the Rhine.” Throughout the Ro¬ 
 man dominion of Central Europe it was one of the most import¬ 
 ant places in their occupancy ; in all the stormy days of the 
 German Empire it was always to be considered and often felt, 
 in the wealth it contained, and the force it could send out at 
 need, under the order of Archbishop or Elector; and in more 
 
124 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 modern days, if its actual position in the new German Empire 
 is less influential than that of Berlin and possibly of Frank¬ 
 fort, to few or no others is it obliged to vail a crest claiming so 
 high an antiquity and so unbroken a prosperity and celebrity. 
 
 But to return to the Cathedral, proving once again what 
 has been already said, that the Cathedral is the city. Not for 
 the first time, this summer of 1878, the Governor visited it, 
 though he was free to say, when he had done so, that he had 
 previously known little or nothing of it ; that it had been as 
 far from fixing itself in the mind, in its true proportions, as 
 that other withdrawing sphinx of religious houses, Santa 
 Maria del Fiere, at Florence. 
 
 Probably not one traveller in fifty, unless he looks with 
 unusual closeness at some of the guide-books, knows that 
 Cologne Cathedral has the additional name of St. Peter. In 
 its appellation, as that of the city, the tutelary saint is always 
 forgotten, even if known ; and many have never known it or 
 thought of it. It has the reputation of having been com¬ 
 menced in 1248, when Henry III. was King of England, with 
 Edward I., one day to be so celebrated as Edward Longshanks, 
 then only three years old. Louis IX.—“Saint Louis”—was 
 King of France. Frederic II. was then in his latter days as 
 German Emperor; and Cologne stood at the head of the free 
 imperial cities, admitting a sort of political allegiance to the 
 Empire, but really obeying or disregarding an imperial edict 
 as seemed most convenient. Such is alleged to be the date 
 of its foundation ; while, oddly enough, not only is the date 
 in dispute, but the architect who designed it is not remem¬ 
 bered ; and consequently a monkish legend has long been 
 connected with it—that the devil inspired the artist, taking his 
 soul as the eventual premium for the tuition at its com¬ 
 pletion. Some old drawings, too, exist, alleged to date from 
 that time, of the appearance which it was to bear when fin¬ 
 ished, and when its five hundred feet of length should be 
 matched by two towers of the same height. 
 
 Perhaps the reality of no celebrated building on earth is so 
 little known through the medium of pictures, as this. First — 
 
COLOGNE AND CATHEDRAL. 
 
 125 
 
 It is completely falsified, in the public mind, by those pictures 
 always representing it as it is to be, with the two twin towers 
 or spires of the front carried up to the wondrous height of 
 their design,—whereas, until within a very few years, they 
 have never reached beyond the height of the roof, and even 
 now extend but a little distance above it. Second —There is 
 something in the architecture of the sides, almost as much 
 falsified. It looks, in pictures, light and airy, from the many 
 slender finials crowning the buttresses, whereas in the reality 
 the first thought is that of wondrous and awful solidity mar¬ 
 ried to immortal grace. All that the Cathedral has thus far 
 ever boasted, in this more than six hundred years, of spire, is 
 a slight elegant pointed shaft at the choir, or intersection of 
 the two arms of the cross. Around the great bulk of the 
 rising spires, stands a perfect network of scaffolding, nearly 
 as bewildering to the eye as could be any interlacing of stone, 
 though, singularly, without materially marring the appearance 
 of the building. If the hopes of the master workmen do not 
 prove to be at fault, and the imperial determination at Berlin 
 is not belied, within two years (may it not be two hundred?) 
 the matchless towers will be completed, the crowing religious 
 structure of the world stand forth in all its designed glory, 
 and the devil of the legend have the privilege of claiming the 
 soul of the architect, for which he must have been all this 
 time in impatient waiting. 
 
 Within, it is doubtful if the great Cathedral makes so pow¬ 
 erful an impression on the beholder, as a whole, as from the 
 outside. Not that it fails to be wonderfully grand, but that 
 here others more nearly approach if they do not equal it. The 
 height of the groined arches is something fearful. In figures, 
 the rise of the choir is set at 161 feet, though it seems twice 
 that distance. Perhaps the most astounding feature is so 
 many of the columns—literally almost all—being clustered, 
 and, so to speak, knobbed, with life-sized statues ; while the 
 stained glass, ancient and modern, is in bewildering quantity 
 and splendor. Really, there is so much of costly and labori¬ 
 ous detail, that some danger exists of the most careful 
 
126 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 observer losing many of the nobler features in observation of 
 the minor—and the coup-d'ceil in subordinate views. 
 
 Of course the most notable object in the whole interior, is 
 the shrine of the Three Kings of Cologne, in the sacristy— 
 perhaps the most costly, magnificent, and in many regards 
 the most interesting, of all the places attracting devotion in 
 the great temples of the faith. As an erection, it is something 
 of almost matchless splendor, standing in a coved recess 
 with columns of elaborate work on either side, and spanned 
 by a foliated triple round arch of great beauty and taste, while 
 behind it the lance windows pour in their golden and purple 
 light from without. It is in shape something like the raised 
 altar-tombs of so many of the great dead ; but it is higher 
 than most, more elaborate in work than any other, and the 
 magnificent gifts of the great of all ages have studded it with 
 so many gems amid the carven gold mosaics and frosted 
 silver, that it is literally crusted with them. For once, here, 
 the hackneyed phrase well comes in play: “ It must be seen 
 to be appreciated.” 
 
 There was much more, in connection with this shrine, than 
 the Governor and his companion saw, or, for that, wished to 
 see, on this special occasion. For within the shrine are said 
 to be entombed the remains of the Three Kings, or Holy 
 Magi, in a coffin of silver, never exposed to the public gaze. 
 More accessible, and shown to those who signify the desire, 
 are the three skulls, standing in a row on a shelf—jet black 
 with age, each crowned with gems and gold, and around the 
 brow of each, on a fillet, also in gems, one of the three names : 
 Casper, Melchoir, and Balthazar. Of the needless horror of 
 such exhibitions of ghastly mortality, there is more to be 
 said in another connection; enough of it here, before re¬ 
 turning to the shrine proper and to the interest it excites and 
 the causes more or less justifying that excitement. 
 
 What crowds, during the last five hundred years, have 
 flocked around this shrine, and what reverent lips have been 
 pressed to any part of it capable of being touched, by those 
 who believed that it brought them indefinably nearer to the 
 
COLOGNE AND CATHEDRAL. 
 
 127 
 
 great event of all the ages, the Birth of Christ! IIow much of 
 mere superstition there is in it, who can say? At all events, 
 there is something more than the ordinary excuse for this 
 devotion ; for there is at least a possibility, and some proba¬ 
 bility, that the bones of the Wise Men of the East really rest 
 within. Will a word of explanation of this belief, and of the 
 circumstances giving rise to it, be out of place here ? 
 
 That there came Wise Men from the East, to worship the 
 Young Child, and to give him costly gifts, we have the assur¬ 
 ance of Holy Writ. From their name of “ Wise Men ” came 
 the other name, “Magi,” meaning nearly the same in the 
 eastern dialects. Tradition says that their gifts to the Infant 
 Saviour wer o. gold, as to the King; myrrh, as to him who was 
 appointed to die ; and frankincense, as the sweet savor of the 
 incense to divinity. Herod is known to have sought for them, 
 to kill them ; and it is also known that they escaped. That from 
 the East, Wise Men should have come, with such an errand, is 
 rendered not only credible but easy of belief, from the fact 
 that the heathen sages, and notably the Persian Zoroaster, 
 predicted the coming of a wondrous being, who should be born 
 of a pure virgin, and to whom, when he came, the wise men of 
 that time were ordered to go and pay homage. This being, 
 Zoroaster called Oshanderbcgha, or the Man of all the 
 World (virtually the same word as “ Iskanderbeg,” or “ Scan- 
 derbeg,” both signifying “ Alexander the Great ”); and of him 
 he said: “You, my sons, will perceive the rising [of the star] 
 before all other nations. When, therefore, you shall see the 
 star, go whithersoever it shall direct you. Adore that Child, 
 offering him your gifts. He is the Word which created the 
 heavens.” So much, though much more might be quoted, of 
 the heathen prophecies and directions. 
 
 Traditionally, again, the Wise Men, after escaping Herod, 
 and no doubt hunted by his malevolent power, are said to 
 have gone to India, and to have lived and died there, after 
 being baptized by St. Thomas, the Apostle of the East. 
 Certain it is that they were believed so to have lived and died, 
 and that the Empress Helena of Constantinople, who made so 
 
128 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 memorable a Christian mark on the Oriental world, heard of 
 what she had reason to believe were the bones of the Magi, 
 somewhere in the remote East, and removed them to 
 Christian lands—to Milan, as alleged, though there may have 
 been one or two previous removals. From Milan, where they 
 had unquestionably been intended for the Duomo, Frederick 
 Barbarossa, all-powerful for a time in Italy, and intent on the 
 aggrandizement of his own empire, on the capture of that city, 
 had them removed to Cologne, where they no doubt formed 
 the nucleus around which was built the Cathedral. 
 
 All this may be a trifle tiresome, but it is not the less an 
 interesting speculation. There, in that gemmed and guarded 
 shrine, are believed to be the relics of three men who had the 
 unspeakable glory of recognizing and welcoming the Child 
 Christ to His world. How they became called “ Kings ” may 
 be easily conjectured, as indicating their high place. Long 
 ago they were so entitled. Their names supplied the battle- 
 cry for the German lances, through centuries ; and Bulvver, in 
 “ Rienzi,” oddly draws them into the service of the German 
 Free-Companions, with the shout in conflict, “ Full purses, 
 and the Three Kings of Cologtie." 
 
 After the Cathedral, the next religious attraction in Cologne 
 is naturally the Church of St. Ursula, which is signally insig¬ 
 nificant-looking without, and stands where people often find 
 themselves lost in the effort to discover it. The Governor, on 
 this occasion, would not have mourned over failing to dis¬ 
 cover it at all, having fallen into the bad graces of the cus¬ 
 todian, several years ago, by intimating a doubt whether there 
 had not been a miscount in the eleven thousand virgins there 
 said to be osseously entombed,—and his companion of that 
 time, having even worse offended the same custodian by pre¬ 
 tending to find a male jaw among the rows alleged to belong 
 to the female fellow-sufferers of the early martyr. A visit 
 to it was voted indispensable, however, especially by the 
 Artist, who fancied that he might exhume some faded daub 
 that had once been a picture, and who was punished accord¬ 
 ingly. 
 
COLOGNE AND CATHEDRAL. 
 
 129 
 
 If there can be anything at once more sorrowful and more 
 ghastly, in the world, than the innumerable cabinets of skulls, 
 some of them crowned and many ornamented, and the wagon 
 load after wagon load of ordinary bones, filling what seem to 
 be closets and chests and everything hollow and capable of 
 holding the space of a quart measure—then that other more 
 sorrowful and more ghastly thing ought to be at once abol¬ 
 ished off the face of the earth. Suppose that St. Ursula actu¬ 
 ally existed, and that there were then on the globe eleven 
 thousand virgins, and that they were all martyred by the 
 Huns, during a pilgrimage to Rome, for adhering to their vows 
 of chastity and devotion—what then ? Is there any reason 
 why, for the past hundreds of years, they should have been 
 additionally martyred by being refused burial, and having 
 their sightless eye-sockets set to look out at square rows of 
 little windows ; and their teeth, that may once have been 
 pearly and beautiful, to grin there with the suggestion of con¬ 
 demned malefactors on gibbets in the days when they r allowed 
 them to fall to pieces there ; and their bones to be dealt with 
 after the manner of so many bundles of kindling wood ? 
 Faugh !—the whole idea is equally profane and disgusting; and 
 we will have very little of it—even though the Artist, failing to 
 find anything else to “draw,” may have been tempted to 
 draw some of the grinning teeth ! 
 
 There are plenty of other churches in Cologne—some of 
 them with features capable of attracting the impressionable. 
 That of St. Peter (how of the jarring of this with the Cathedral 
 of the same name?) has one of Rubens’ masterpieces, the 
 “ Crucifixion,” as an altar-piece ; and the font is also there 
 in which he was baptized—late in life, it is worthy of notice. 
 (Rubens was born in Cologne, it should be remembered ; and 
 the house of his birth is shown, in one of the side streets, the 
 Sterner Gasse—stately and court-ymrded, and with an inscrip¬ 
 tion in his honor above the door, quite dwarfing the other 
 recollection, that Marie de Medicis, widowed Queen of Ilenry 
 IV., of France, lived and died in the same house, when 
 banished from France after an attempted disturbance, in the 
 
130 
 
 OVER HALF EUPOPE. 
 
 reign of her son, Louis XIII.) Some twenty others of the 
 churches have also the prefix of “Saint”; they may be 
 left in peace with that appellation, after the Cathedral and St. 
 U rsula. 
 
 Cologne is heavily fortified. Let that fact pass with a mere 
 mention, in this day when there is not likely to be any one to 
 attack it. It is of much more consequence that the Rhine, 
 here, is very wide, tolerably muddy, and exceedingly swift. 
 A magnificent railway bridge crosses it, from the foot of the 
 Frankenplatz, immediately opposite the Cathedral, to Deutz, 
 and so to connection with the great railway system for all 
 Northern Germany. Not far above, a fine bridge of boats 
 also crosses, and also to Deutz, for the accommodation of all 
 travel and traffic not on rail. 
 
 Over this bridge the Artist and the Governor took their 
 way, one pleasant evening, to the military concert in the 
 pleasure-garden on the river bank, at Deutz ; and there and 
 on that bridge they stopped to mark the rapidity of the Rhine 
 flow, rushing by the boats, as if in mad haste to get seaward >' 
 and saw what a quietly-busy scene the river and its wharves 
 were, with the arrivals and departures of steamers and other 
 craft, down the river to Rotterdam and up the river to Coblentz 
 and Mayence ; and heard more pleasant jangling of sunset 
 bells, from all the old steeples of the old city, than they had 
 heard at any one time in a long period ; and found the military 
 concert a loud and continuous one, but never a bad one, as Ger¬ 
 mans do not habitually play out of tune ; and saw enough of 
 soldiers lounging around the tables to induce question, and 
 found that four or five regiments are always quartered at 
 and about Cologne; and then indulged in certain cooling 
 drinks that admitted of straws, and in weeds of strong flavor to 
 follow them—until they half believed that the wheels of time 
 had rolled back for a dozen or twenty years, and they were 
 similarly enjoying themselves and the occasion, in their hot 
 youth, at Jones’ Wood or Hoboken. 
 
 And the evening, at nearly the same hour, gave them the 
 company of the newly-appointed American Consul at Cologne 
 
COLOGNE AND CATHEDRAL 
 
 131 
 
 (a very courteous and capable specimen of the Man of the 
 West, with his pleasant wife, daughter, and “ Little Pearl),” 
 in a drive round the fortifications, which did not frown any 
 worse at nearer view than they had done at a distance, and 
 through the Zoological Gardens, with fine shade and no doubt 
 a bewildering number of undesirable monkeys, snarlin 
 hyenas, and screaming parrots. And then, on the mornin 
 following, they left Cologne for “ up-the-river,” on the good 
 steamer Wilhelm, Kaiser und Konig, whereof Captain Kluth 
 was the commander, with capacities for that station (or indeed 
 any other) which may be more fully and at large alluded to in 
 a succeeding paper. 
 
 THE GOVERNOR, 
 
 10 
 
 be be 
 
XVI. 
 
 UP THE RHINE—COLOGNE TO COBLENTZ. 
 
 “just like the Hudson!’’ exclaims many an American 
 voyager, making his first passage by steamer up the Rhine— 
 especially after reaching certain portions of it, above Bonn ; 
 and “very much like the Rhine!” similarly exclaims many 
 a European traveller, making his first progress up the noble 
 Hudson, possibly in that splendid day-passage, Albany-ward, 
 afforded by the Drew or Chauncey Vibbard , or that afternoon 
 run to West Point, Newburg or Rondout, supplied by the 
 “river queen,” the Mary Powell. Meanwhile, the fancy of any 
 resemblance whatever between the two rivers is principally 
 born of what others have said, and of the simple fact that 
 both the rivers are large, long, and run for a certain distance 
 through hill-country, with picturesque banks in either instance. 
 There is no actual similarity in any other regard ; and, with 
 all the pride that may belong to country, it must be said that 
 the Hudson cannot for one moment be compared with the 
 Rhine in the grouped glories of its progress—as, indeed, what 
 other single stream on the face of the earth can be so 
 compared ? 
 
 Such were the refections of the Governor, after making 
 his first passage up the Rhine from Cologne to Bieberich ; 
 and such were some of the decisions at which both he and the 
 Artist arrived, in advance of the former seeing it for a 
 second time and the latter first seeing it at all,—as they 
 stepped one pleasant and breezy morning on board the Wilhelm, t 
 Kaiser und Konig , then lying impatiently at her wharf at the 
 Freihafen, at Cologne, in readiness for a run up to Mayence. 
 
 Seven years had literally made no change in the appearance 
 of the very handsome steamer, which in the year following the 
 Franco-German war was in the first flush of her youth. A trim 
 and shapely saloon-steamer, paddle-wheeled and two-funnelled F 
 built very much on the American river plan, and affording 
 
UP THE RHINE. 
 
 133 
 
 accommodations very much of the same character, but seem¬ 
 ing to look tar less clumsy than the keenest of American boats, 
 ' from the fact of her being black instead of glaring white, and 
 with the name somewhat conspicuous on her paddle-boxes, in 
 gold on the black ground. A very handsome steamer, indeed; 
 and yet not a whit handsomer than the noble-looking officer 
 deserved, who stood on the paddle-box and directed her 
 casting off, and whom we afterwards knew (and liked) as 
 Captain C. J. Kluth, erewhile of the Kaiser’s service in other 
 lines, and bearing the military stamp most notably in face, 
 figure and movement. 
 
 A moment of bustle, and we were off “up the Rhine.’’ 
 How much there is in the sound of those three words, to 
 many who have never enjoyed the reality !—say to boarding- 
 school girls who hope to make that a part of the bridal tour, 
 when the happy day and the right man come along together !— 
 or to enthusiastic students of history, who have learned the 
 important part borne by the Rhine in the events of the 
 world, and who look forward to “ placing” one and another of 
 those events with their own eyes ! And how much, equally, 
 there is in the same sound to one who has “ done’’ the great 
 river thoroughly and lovingly, and fully impregnated himself 
 (or herself) with the romance of history and legend which 
 belongs to it ! Let there be no question on this point; as a 
 single sail by river, the passage of the Rhine is physically the 
 finest in the world ; and as a single river it includes more of 
 the historical and romantic than any other stream—the Hud¬ 
 son not comparable, and the Thames, Seine and Danube all left 
 far behind in the comparison. 
 
 With no special features near us, except a glance back at 
 dear old Cologne and the giant bulk of its Cathedral looming 
 above all else like one great act in an ordinary life, we sat 
 on the covered promenade, as the boat moved away, and 
 watched the crowd of excursionists who flourished maps, 
 and examined guide-books, and took out opera-glasses, and 
 did all the other acts and things known to the travelling 
 world,—not to mention gabbling in all the languages heard 
 
134 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 since the slight misunderstanding of Babel. By-and-by, 
 however, both the old traveller and the neophyte had other 
 business than attending to them; for Bonn was rising 
 ahead, at the right, and behind it and overtopping it, more to 
 the left, the uneven high dark line of the Siebengeberge 
 (Seven Mountains), with one feature declaring its own name 
 far away, in the pyramidal bulk and the rough, fragmentary 
 shaft of the “Castled Crag of Drachenfels.” 
 
 The Governor remembered, as they approached Bonn, that 
 he had been very hungry, once, years before, when passing 
 through it on his hurried way to Cologne ; so that highly-rea- 
 sonable traveller would not have stopped at it even had he 
 not been booked for the whole day on the river. The towers 
 of a Cathedral, built in the twelfth century, show from the 
 river ; and it is about this that the celebrated application to 
 the English Minister at Berlin is said to have taken place—a 
 female English tourist, whose Murray set down the towers 
 (say) as five, failing to find more than four, deeming herself 
 wronged out of one, and demanding that the Minister should 
 at once apply for redress to the offending government. (JPar 
 parenthese, she is said not to have received the redress de¬ 
 manded, and thereupon to have spent the remainder of her 
 life, and died at her post of duty, writing letters to the Londoti 
 Times, demanding the replacement of that tower or the return 
 of her money paid for a passage ticket.) 
 
 Seriously, Bonn has a noble Cathedral; and it has a Uni¬ 
 versity of even higher than the ordinary high German stand¬ 
 ard, albeit only founded in 1818, and located in a disused castle 
 of a century or two older. The Bonnese, when in other lands, 
 go mad over an avenue of horse-chestnuts leading to the 
 Poppelsdorfer Schloss (Phoebus, what a name !), where there 
 is a collection of natural history adding to the madness. But 
 it is upon record that one of the English seats of learning has 
 prohibited the mention ot this whole complication within its 
 walls, owing to a riot nearly inaugurated some years ago over 
 the question whether the German tutor was endeavoring to 
 explain the exi.tence of “horse-chestnuts” or “ chestnut 
 
UP THE RHINE. 
 
 135 
 
 horses ” in connection with the natural-history collection. 
 There are invitations, too, at Bonn, to go to the Kreuzberg. 
 and to the top of the church of the Holy Steps there, for a 
 wonderful view ; but as no one on the Kaiser und Konig IVii- 
 helm intended to go, this whole thing became confusing, and 
 it is quite as well that she steamed away up the river and al¬ 
 lowed her passengers to fall into contemplation of the great 
 stream and the rising highlands, bringing up Praed and his six 
 lines of matchless description ot the predominant Rhine 
 scenery: 
 
 “Where foams and flows the glorious Rhine, 
 
 Many a ruin, wan and gray, 
 
 O'erlooks the cornfield and the vine. 
 
 Majestic in their dark decay,— 
 
 That among their dim clouds, long ago, 
 
 Mocked the battles that raged below.” 
 
 Whole pages of other words could not so convey, as those six 
 lines, the spirit of the range of scenery beginning at just above 
 Bonn and extending to the Lorleiberg, far beyond Coblentz. 
 At the left, very soon after leaving that town, the Drachenfels 
 came into near view—one of the most rugged remains of an 
 old fortification possible for even the imagination to con¬ 
 struct, and speaking volumes as to the character of the times 
 when any man could have wished to place himself in such an 
 isolation. Behind it, and away to the left, the rough summits 
 of the Seven Mountains seemed to be attending and waiting 
 on that one fastness with its splinter of stone. And on the 
 other side, only a little beyond, a mere remaining archway on 
 the top of the hill, with the pregnant name of Rolandseck, 
 told over again one of those sad tales of love and misfortune 
 that seem never to grow old, however the ages go by while 
 they are woven. Who has not heard the story of Roland, 
 the matchless paladin of Charlemagne, said to have fallen in 
 the defeat of Roncesvalles, in the Pyrenees ? Campbell tells, 
 in one of his sweetest poems, of: 
 
 “-That sad and w ndrous tale, 
 
 How Roland, the flower of chivalry, 
 
 Had fallen at Roncevale.” 
 
OVER HALF EVP OPE. 
 
 13(3 
 
 Wei], that is only a part of the story, and by no means the 
 saddest. Below the crumbling ruin, on a little island, is a nun¬ 
 nery, still in use, called Nonnenwerden, into the very win¬ 
 dows of which people on the steamer may almost look as they 
 go by. The legend has it, that when the news of the death of 
 Roland at Roncesvalles came to Germany, the lady of his love 
 left the world, took the vows, and buried life and love in Non¬ 
 nenwerden. Then one day Roland, who had only been cap¬ 
 tured and imprisoned, came back to the Rhine, to find all that 
 he cared for shut up between the pitiless walls of a convent. 
 He had but one resource, and he took it. On the hill, above 
 the convent, he built the tower of Rolandseck, and buried 
 himself there, with but one sad pleasure remaining in life—to 
 look down at evening on the little island below, and see the 
 nuns come out for their evening walk, with a guess, and 
 nothing more, at the personality of his lost one. Then one 
 later day (the legend does not tell us how he knew ; but what 
 matter ?) a figure was missing, and he knew that she was dead. 
 Then Roland went away, leaving Rolandseck to crumble (as it 
 has very thoroughly done by this time), sought the scenes of 
 battle once more, and died with her name on his lips. The 
 legend is a beautiful one, and should be true if it is not. Let 
 us believe that it is, and so pardon the two gray-haired school¬ 
 boys who sat that day on the deck of the steamer, looking at 
 the old ruin, and telling the tale to the few who would listen 
 with something very like tears in their eyes for the fate of the 
 one true man who loved the one good woman ! 
 
 And then the steamer swept on through what the world 
 agrees to call the very finest portion of the Rhine scenery in 
 roughness and rocky grandeur. Rocky grandeur, indeed ! 
 yet never desolation, in spite of the crumbling towers every¬ 
 where studding the heights; for the vine, emblem at once of 
 fertility and of merriment, was everywhere. Every foot of 
 ground that could be gripped away from the rocks was planted 
 with it; and the broad leaves and long clinging tendrils made 
 a soft green of what would else have been hard, rocky and 
 unlovely. The Rhineland is the Vineland quite as truly. 
 
UP THE RHINE. 
 
 137 
 
 Konigswinter, one of the most convenient places from which 
 to visit the wild group of the Siebengebirge, is passed on the 
 left, by the way, before reaching Rolandseck and Nonnen- 
 werden ; and from that point, partially on both sides of the 
 river, but especially on the right bank (left side as going up), 
 the villages and small towns are very numerous, though only 
 interesting from their picturesqueness. Castles in various 
 states of ruin, and these small villages, little more than ham¬ 
 lets, follow each other and alternate continually. The Castle 
 of Ochenfels rises, black and gloomy, at the spectator’s left; 
 and near it is the town of Linz, showing some threatening 
 fortifications in the neighborhood, and with the much more 
 modern Castle of Leubesdorf studding it on the other side. 
 Then follows, a little later, on the right, the Castle of Rhein- 
 eck, with the little village of Brohl lying near and seeming to 
 belong to it. Hammerstein shows some castle ruins, looking 
 very black and gloomy, at the left, as it may well do with the 
 eight hundred years accredited to it ; and then, on the right, 
 comes Andernach, one of the important towns of the Rhine 
 country, heavily fortified, and with a splendid watch-tower 
 near the river. Very little above Andernach, also on the 
 right, rises a memorial of the French First-Republican days, 
 and of one of the men who won before imperialism. This is 
 the White Tower, a tall, plain shaft, showing where the revo¬ 
 lutionary General Hoche crossed the Rhine, in the face of a 
 powerful Austrian force, in 1797, winning his death and this 
 memorial. 
 
 A little above the White Tower, and again on the opposite 
 or right side of the spectator, is neat-looking and prosperous 
 Neuwied, with a small palace of Emperor-King William near 
 it, in the which that troubled potentate is said sometimes to 
 cool his hot old brow with the Rhine breezes ; though one is 
 puzzled to guess when he finds time to visit it, without being 
 for one day absent from the public eye or out of the range of 
 the pleasant people who periodically find it necessary to 
 shoot him and cut him. The largest island in the Rhine lies in 
 the middle of the river, not far above Neuweid. It is a double 
 
138 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 one, with a name of which ordinary humanity can only re¬ 
 member that it ends with “werth”or “werden” (synony¬ 
 mous), and so is a sister of Nonnenwerden, lower down. And 
 after this island, which lies only a little distance below the 
 sharp bend in the river at which the Mosel debouches into the 
 Rhine, and Coblentz rises with its mighty Ehrenbreitstein on 
 the opposite shore, there is really nothing of any special 
 interest before reaching that bound of the first half-day’s ex¬ 
 cursion ; so that a little chat over the Rhine-boat may be 
 quite in order, to fill the hiatus. 
 
 Let it not be supposed that the run up the Rhine, or down 
 it, is made without meeting with a very large number of boats, 
 dotting it at every turn, and giving variety to what would 
 otherwise be a trifle lonely if not monotonous. Besides, the 
 trade of that portion of Germany is largely carried on up and 
 down the Rhine by water, as is that between New York and 
 Albany, and so between New York and the interior regions of 
 the State, and Lakes Erie and Ontario, on the Hudson. There 
 are not many of the Rheindampschiff (steamboat) ; but the 
 Rhein-bote (sailboat, equivalent to our sloop or schooner) is 
 legion. The Rhine steamboat, when met or passed, is always 
 black and rakish-looking ; the Rhine boat, in similar circum¬ 
 stances, is also black, with tan-colored sails, and no inconsider¬ 
 able resemblance to the same freight-carrier on the English 
 Thames. She has usually two masts, the forward one much 
 the longer, with fore-and-aft sails and a jib from the cutwater, 
 with a clumsy lee-board suspended at the side, and a broad 
 rudder, hung with a hoop to its outer corner, over a stern 
 cocked up a little like that of a Chinese junk ; while at near 
 the bow she is usually cut away half down to the water’s edge, 
 with a strong suggestion that she is never in the habit of 
 meeting a heavy head sea, or being obliged to lie to in a hurri¬ 
 cane. She is usually manned by sleepy-looking and pipe¬ 
 smoking old fellows, in rough caps and blouses, who do not 
 seem to be in a hurry, and who probably are not. Taken 
 altogether, the Rhine boat is a queer-looking affair, but 
 pleasant enough to meet, and quite a picturesque figure in the 
 
UP THE RHINE. 
 
 139 
 
 view. Without it, the Rhine would be—well, not the Rhine as 
 the Governor and the Artist saw it on this occasion, and as 
 the former had previously seen and studied it. 
 
 Long may the Rhine boat flourish ! And may there be, 
 some day, more freight for her to carry, and a livelier outlook 
 for the commercial prosperity of the Rhine, and of all 
 Germany ! For the German land lies under a commercial 
 cloud—dark, heavy and threatening. The heavy fine paid to 
 Germany by France seems not to have impoverished her, and 
 it equally seems not to have enriched Germany. Is there 
 something in what an old German officer, thoroughly familiar 
 with the welfare of the people, said to the Governor that day ? 
 
 “The country is going to the devil,” was his vigorous dictum. 
 “ on Bismarckism. You do not know my name, so you cannot 
 betray me to the Chancellor, who would tear the epaulettes 
 off my shoulders if he knew what I said. He is ruining the 
 commercial chances of Germany with his infernal politics, 
 aggrandizement of the Empire, and so forth. The good old 
 Emperor has nothing to do with it; his heart is with the 
 people, only he is old and overborne by a stronger will than 
 his own. Bismarck is too sharp, too determined, too self- 
 willed. He manages to array one class against another, as 
 well as one religion. He is overstepping his boundary, and 
 Germany suffers on account of his action. He will be no loss 
 to Germany, commercially or socially, when he resigns or dies, 
 whatever may be the effect political^ ; and I doubt if he would 
 be painfully missed even in that regard. Bah ! Germany is 
 over-governed, and we have had too much of it !” 
 
 This brought us nearly off Coblentz, on the right (of us), 
 and under the mingled smile and frown of the great fortress 
 of Ehrenbreitstein on the left. Smile and frown, indeed ; for 
 while there is probably no place in the world stronger than 
 the “ Broad Stone of Honor,” covering the whole height with 
 fortification of the most modern and approved construction, 
 and threatening death and ruin to any attacking force, how¬ 
 ever large or however determined,—there is, at the same time, 
 nothing else in the world so grandly beautiful. Think of a 
 
140 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 lower Gibraltar, not one frowning rock with a citadel at the 
 top, but literally all cut stone arranged in the handsomest 
 and deadliest of terraces, lines, levels and all tne details of 
 the art that made Vauban immortal,—and then we have a 
 faint idea of it. 
 
 The Artist and the Governor gazed upon it long and lov¬ 
 ingly—yes, lovingly—that day. To see one of the strongest 
 places in the world, at the same time one of the most beauti¬ 
 ful—this is something ; yes, it is much, in a world where the 
 two characteristics do not often combine. And the Governor, 
 after sweeping it on every visible side with the eye, and glass 
 in hand, said : 
 
 “ By George ! It couldn’t be taken by all the forces in the 
 world ! ” 
 
 “ It could be taken by a very small force from any one part 
 of the world ! ” replied the Artist, who had his note-book out, 
 but had only sketched a rampart or two. “ But it oughtn’t 
 to be taken—it is so beautiful. ” 
 
 “ I quite agree with you as to the beauty," admitted the 
 Governor. “ But I don’t agree with you as to the possibility 
 of its being taken. Now, don’t you see, it stands so nigh that 
 no elevation of guns could do anything at battering tne main 
 work, and-” 
 
 Probably a formidable lecture on the art of fortification was 
 demolished by the Artist, who merely said : 
 
 “ Don’t be a fool, Governor ! It is a marvellously strong 
 fortification, but it could be taken, and I could take it." 
 
 “ Phew-w-w !’’ This exclamation of the Governor was only 
 half spoken—and the other half whistled. “ You ? When aid 
 you become an artillery commander? You!" 
 
 “ Yes, I!” said the Artist. “ It might cost something, but I 
 could take it. If I wanted to be master of Ehrenbreitstein, as 
 I don 7, I would bombard it with dollars—pounds, shillings and 
 pence—Napoleons—double Frederics and guilders—corrupt 
 every man-jack inside of it, ana buy it.” 
 
 “Oh!” In that exclamation the Governor owned himself 
 defeated, not to say “sold,” as the fortress was to be. The 
 Artist smiled and put up his note-bo®k. And his victim quite 
 
UP THE RHINE. 
 
 141 
 
 agreed with him, as the Wilhelm , Kaiser und Konig swept up 
 to her wharf at Coblentz, and the bridge-of-boats got out ol 
 the way of her with extraordinary speed and discipline—that 
 if Ehrenbreitstein was to be taken, within any length of time 
 at an ordinary mortal's command, the best plan as well as the 
 cheapest would be to bombard it with the current coin of the 
 world, in overwhelming quantity ana persistence. 
 
 Coblentz, as of this journey, must be taken upon trust, as 
 the Artist and the Governor did not land there, and the latter 
 could only refer to old recollections of it. it stands on the 
 diamond-shaped point of land formed by the junction of the 
 Rmne and tne Moselle ; and one would think that it had very 
 respectable fortifications of its own, without any thanks to the 
 beautiful virago over the river. The best building in it is the 
 Paiace of the Bishop of Treves, erected only about one 
 nundred years ago ; and the most interesting is the Church of 
 St. Castor (“ oil,” suggested by the Artist), in front of which 
 Napoleon put up his arrogant inscription when on his march 
 to Russia, whiie only a lew montns iater, the Russian com¬ 
 mandant at Coblentz capitally completed by satirizing it. 
 Below tbe junction of the Rhine and Moseile, and opposite 
 the town, is the monument to General Marceau, killed at 
 Altenkirclien with the French Republican army in 1796, and 
 alluded to by Byron in • Childe Harold.' There is not much 
 more of interest, in this Key of the Moselle and Central 
 Oueen of the Rnine, umess one is interested in knowing that 
 the iVloseue wines come down here in great quantities and 
 tneir nest excellence. And with this the good steamer shoves 
 away from her pier, scatters the bridge-ol-boats, makes a 
 magical lowering of her apparent height, to pass under the 
 splendid other bridge of iron open-work which supplies the 
 main crossing of the river, and is off up that upper half of the 
 Middle Rnine lying between Coblentz and Mayence—Captain 
 Kluth smilingly handsome on the paddle-box, and the modern 
 Damon and Pythias (with a difference), the Artist and the 
 Governor, looking out for something new to reverence and 
 satirize, as the rival ideas may happen to strike them. 
 
XVII. 
 
 UP THE RHINE—COBLENTZ TO MAYENCE. 
 
 It is at about Coblentz, on the upward passage, that that 
 important detail in the voyager's pleasure, dinner, usually 
 comes on the Rhine steamers. Shortly after leaving, that 
 day, the Artist and the Governor had the pleasure of dining 
 in the saloon of the steamer, with a perfection of service that 
 would not have shamed the best hotel on the Continent. That 
 dinner had one defect, however; it was taken at such time as 
 only allowed them to give a very hurried greeting to the sister 
 steamer of the line, the Dentscher Kaiser, coming down from 
 Mayence. There was another point, also, which may or may 
 not have been a defect; the meal was taken in the. saloon and 
 not on the open promenade deck, where the Governor once 
 dined on the same steamer, to his exceeding pleasure, and 
 with some other sensations which make the incident worthy 
 of record. 
 
 The Governor, on that occasion as on this, had a companion. 
 Neither of the two (that was in the early days, seven whole 
 years ago, when everybody was not a millionnaire)—neither of 
 the two, be it remarked, had in pocket or in circular notes 
 payable on demand, such a sum of money as to make extrava¬ 
 gance prudent if the whole tour was to be made. Say that the 
 name of the other, for this occasion, was the Cashier, though 
 that moneyed title is not to convey any additional impression 
 of his pecuniosity. Well, they were on board the K. &= K. W., 
 going up from Cologne, as now, when they entered into con¬ 
 versation with a party of four or five whom they found on 
 deck and discovered to be Americans. One man of past mid¬ 
 dle age seemed to be the director of the party; and the re¬ 
 mainder of it was composed of one lady of middle age, one 
 young man, and two girls as vivacious as pretty. The Cashier 
 and the Governor were made welcome by the group, and in 
 half an hour became very nearly travelling companions. Not 
 
UP THE RHINE. 
 
 143 
 
 to mince the matter, the Governor fell a little in love with one 
 of the young ladies, and the Cashier tumbled into the deepest 
 of attachments for the other. Then and thenceforth they 
 were enslaved, and very willingly. They were not over par¬ 
 ticular as to their destination beyond Mayence, though they 
 had fancied Heidelberg as their first place of rest lor any 
 period. The party of five, however, declared their intention of 
 going to Ems (where Emperor William was at the moment) ; 
 and no long persuasion on the part of the fair tempters was 
 needed to convince the two that they were also going to Ems. 
 Evidently they had rather a nice thing in the way of compan¬ 
 ionship : why not go on and enjoy it? 
 
 Some one mentioned dinner. The leader of the party en¬ 
 quired if the two new additions to his party would not like to 
 dine with them. Wouldn’t they? They were going to dine 
 on deck (i. e., on the promenade), and had already ordered the 
 meal to be served there. The Governor and the Cashier 
 would ioin them with great pleasure. Had they any prefer¬ 
 ence as to what they would have for dinner ? or should he tell 
 the steward to make the covers seven instead of five, and to 
 increase the order for food correspondingly ? Oh, the latter, 
 by all means ! And wines—had they any choice about wines ? 
 His party had ordered some of a rather good vintage ; should 
 he increase the order according to number? At this point 
 the Governor grew effusive, and requested the leader to simply 
 allow his friend and himself to dine with his party, he being 
 the director of everything,—and to pay their share of the 
 whole, as two-sevenths, besides thanks impossible to pay. 
 Very well, then ; and so the thing was settled. 
 
 In due time, and very soon after leaving Coblentz, the din¬ 
 ner for seven was served on the promenade deck, and the 
 party of seven sat down to it. And a dinner it was, worth 
 remembering. Lucullus could not have ordered a better, or 
 Apicius selected better material. Fish, flesh and fowl, fruits 
 and dessert, were all beyond criticism. And for the wines— 
 the Cashier was heard to say, at a certain point of the ban¬ 
 quet, that if the blended fragrances from all the best vintages 
 
U 4 
 
 OVER KALF-EUROPE. 
 
 of the earth could be compressed into one, the result would 
 not excel the bouquet of a certain bottle which came on a 
 little late. Then the service—it was simply worthy of the 
 Reform Club. And this paradisiacal performance went on, on 
 the open deck of a fine steamer on the Rhine, with glorious 
 scenery all around, pleasant company partaking, and the 
 smiles of two lovely girls making the hearts of two men, old 
 enough to have known better, beat double tattoos under their 
 waistcoats. Really there was not much more to be asked for 
 in this mortal life ; and the two fortunate fellows congratu¬ 
 lated themselves on being allowed to join such a party and 
 travel under the guidance of a man who knew so well how to 
 order a dinner. 
 
 About an hour later, all this changed materially, though 
 they were then among the most bewildering beauties of the 
 Rhine; for the waiter brought the bill, and they saw the 
 leader pay it. Only an amount equivalent to eighty-four 
 dollars, gold, for the seven—twelve dollars gold, each, and gold 
 in America at about thirty premium ! They paid their share of 
 that dinner; the smiles of the two girls suddenly losing their 
 lustre, and the two friends as suddenly discovering that they 
 could not go on to Ems with the party, but must go ashore at 
 Bieberich for Frankfort. One dinner like that might do, but 
 two or three would finish up their tour rather suddenly. They 
 could not very well afford to eat dinners with, and travel in 
 the stvle of, one whom they discovered to be one of the 
 richest bankers of California ! And they could not afford to 
 drink any' more of that wine of the wonderful bouquet, which 
 proved to be nothing more nor less than original Johannis- 
 berger, abstracted from Prince Metternich’s cellar, and set 
 down in the bill at an amount equal to fifteen American 
 dollars ! 
 
 “Well, I never fell into such a scrape in my life, before,” 
 said the Cashier, when they were for a moment alone, below 
 decks. “ Did you, Governor? ” 
 
 “Yes, a good many times, in a milder way,” answered the 
 otner victim; “and I once tumbled into one, nearly of the 
 
UP THE RHINE. 
 
 145 
 
 Same kind, that seems to have taught me nothing. I went 
 into the Hotel des Reservoirs, at Versailles, once, with poor 
 Ned • Kingston, to get a cheap lunch, because w r e w r ere a 
 little low in funds for what lay before us. And we did the 
 economical by ordering, to finish our lunch, two bunches of 
 white grapes that we saw hanging there. \Ye found, when 
 we had eaten them, that they were the first of the vintage, 
 hung there for show ; and we paid thirty francs, or six dollars 
 gold, for them, without shedding a tear.” 
 
 The Artist and the Governor dined differently, on this occa¬ 
 sion, as already recorded; and they had no embarrassing 
 recollections, as they swept away from Coblentz, to prevent 
 their enjoying the grand scenery of this upper half of the 
 day’s journey. They saw, in the Castle of Stolzenfels, rising 
 on the right, one of the innumerable residences of the Em¬ 
 peror-King, many towered, bowered in woods, and standing 
 at such height above the river as must at once make the 
 atmosphere wondrously clear and the view from it ravishing. 
 They pronounced the ensemble of the clustered and uneven 
 towers perfect, but did not make out (who ever did ?) what 
 was the subject of the historical picture on the front of the 
 central pile. They remembered that here that sovereign, 
 when only King of Prussia, entertained Oueen Victoria and 
 Prince Albert, in 1845. and that the interior decorations are 
 said to be very magnificent, while the antiques and other curi¬ 
 osities are very rare, and embrace swords of the three men of 
 Waterloo—Napoleon, Wellington and Blucher. And then, 
 having no imperio-royal invitation to ascend to that pleasant 
 height, without paying for admission as to a museum, they 
 took the obvious alternative and passed on. 
 
 But here a picture seldom or never seen in America, and 
 worthy of being long remembered. Just below Oberlanstein, 
 on the left, stands the Johanniskirche, held to enjoy peculiar 
 privileges and sanctity. And at the moment when the steamer 
 came opposite, apparently the whole population of the little 
 town (possibly of Horchheim) lying below it, seemed to be 
 passing in procession, in honor of the day of Corpus Christi, 
 
146 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 from the town to the church. The robed priests walking in 
 front; the Host carried under acanopy, next them; then a 
 body of priests following; then another body of black-robed 
 and white-capped nuns or sisters ; and then the populace, 
 walking in procession, decently and in order ; two or three 
 banners floating among them, and adding to the number of 
 the bits of color appropriately breaking the sombreness of the 
 main procession ; and over the river, as they walked, a sweet, 
 solemn chant coming fitfully, to add sound to what was so 
 beautiful to the eye. “ Ah, that Catholic Church ! ” exclaimed 
 the Governor to the Artist, when they had passed and the 
 chant had died away. “Ah, that Catholic Church, to which 
 neither you nor I belong, and which we fight occasionally— 
 what pictures it presents, after all, for the eyes that are weary 
 of the world ! And how, all said, the world is perhaps no 
 older or wiser than it was a thousand years ago, and there is 
 nothing new under the sun.” 
 
 “ Is there not ? Hark, and look !” was the reply of the Ar¬ 
 tist, with pointed finger. And as the Governor looked, there 
 rushed up the railway track, from below, a flying locomotive 
 with a train of flying carriages behind it—such as they had 
 seen several times before during the day, on both sides of the 
 river, and were to see again repeatedly before night. But at 
 that moment it had a peculiar significance, and no words of 
 the Artist were needed to point it out. There was something 
 new under the sun ; and though the monks and priests might 
 carry the Host with all the ceremonies of a thousand years 
 ago, the world was moving with the power of steam, the tele¬ 
 graph, and the widening press of the age ; and whatever should 
 prove useless as well as antiquated (only that) must eventually 
 go down before it. 
 
 And so, on the good steamer went past Oberlanstein and 
 Braubach, and Filsen, and other places on the left (right bank), 
 and Konigstuhl, and Rhense, and Boppard, and still others, on 
 the right; and then a name was called, and a great mass of 
 crumbling stone heaved itself into view ahead, still at the 
 
UP THE RHINE. 
 
 147 
 
 right of the line of vision, both of which set the pulse thrilling 
 as not every old stronghold can do, even on the Rhine—St. 
 Goar. 
 
 And what is St. Goar, other than a small Rhine town, with 
 Rheinfels a mighty mass of crumbling masonry behind it? 
 And what was it ever, save one of the monkish strongholds, 
 with no special interest except to the men of its time whom it 
 protected or injured ? What more, of St. Goar, than of any 
 other of the Rhine towns about which one knows little or 
 nothing? Why, this, propounder of questions that may mean 
 so much or so little : St. Goar has been touched by the finger 
 of genius, in one of the noblest poetical creations of the 
 century. It was from this monkish stronghold that the priest 
 was brought, to marry Count Otto and his mysterious bride, 
 in Winthrop Machworth Praed’s wierd and wonderful “Bridal 
 of Belmont;’’ and it was of this old pile that Count Otto 
 spoke, when ordering the maiden of the river to sing the 
 priest an Ave Mary: 
 
 “ And if she refuse 
 
 The ditty, Sir Priest, thy whim shall choose : 
 
 Row back to the house ot old St. Goar ; 
 
 I never bid priest to bridal more.” 
 
 What if there was a religious house founded here so long as 
 A. D. 570, when Siegbert was king of Austrasia? And what 
 if the old town was for a long time the capital of the Hes¬ 
 sian Lower Grafschaft ? Once more, all this goes down and 
 fades away in the fact that the priest of the loveliest legend of 
 the Lurleiberg came from here, and that here he no doubt 
 returned (equally disgusted and frightened) when the water- 
 maiden faded away at the first sweep of the harp, and nothing 
 remained of her but a few tears glistening on the golden frame 
 and broken strings. 
 
 The really matchless appearance of St. Goar, from the river, 
 is largely due to the mighty ruins of Rheinfels rising behind it 
 and often believed to be the monkish stronghold itself. This 
 was once the strongest fortress on the Rhine, and has been 
 called “the Ehrenbreitstein of the Middle Ages.” It was 
 
 11 
 
148 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 founded so far back as 1245, strengthened once and again, 
 and remained a formidable fortress until 1758, when the French 
 took it, afterwards leaving it and repeating the taking with 
 the Revolutionary forces of 1794. Then it was blown up, or 
 soon after; and since then it has been probably of more use 
 than ever before, as the noblest of all the Rhine ruins ; so that 
 *t is good to be sure that it will never be rebuilt and thus 
 spoiled ! 
 
 It is only a little above St. Goar, on the opposite or left side 
 of the river to the traveller, that is reached what may be 
 called the culmination of the Rhine as a legendary stream, and 
 a spot perhaps more celebrated in fairy romance than any 
 other in the world. This is the Lorelie Rock, or Lurleiberg 
 (in the German, “ Lurleifelsen ”). It is a huge picturesque 
 mass of rough crags, not beetling, but battered and seamed 
 and crossed in every direction by what may be called the vein 
 or grain of the rock. Much more severely strong, it yet 
 bears a resemblance to some of the more craggy heights of 
 the Hudson, below West Point, while here and there a bit of 
 the Palisades may remind one of it. But that Lurley Rock ! 
 —what has it not been to the poets, weaving romance after 
 romance and fancy after fancy around the one central idea, 
 through so many centuries that the very origin of the whole 
 is lost in something darker than the “ dark ages.” Some one 
 fancied, once, that a fairy being, of the mermaiden order, 
 supernaturally beautiful, was always swimming about at the 
 foot of these rocks, singing a sadly sweet song, irresistibly 
 attractive, and often, after the fashion of “ fair Gil Morrice ” 
 and the Scottish legend, “combing her golden hair.” There 
 was always an idle knight, fishing from the rocks above, and 
 the mermaiden always wooed him, while he grew gradually 
 maddened with her beauty and her music, and eventually 
 forgot the earth behind him, plunged into her embrace, and 
 was lost forever. Some, as Praed, in the “ Bridal of Belmont,” 
 already alluded to, have materially varied the pretty story. In 
 these cases the river temptress has fallen madly in love, too, 
 with the handsome knight on the rocks above, allowed herself 
 
UP THE RHINE. 
 
 149 
 
 to become discovered as a half-drowned maiden in the river, 
 and to be carried away to the knight’s castle. There, there is 
 always one catastrophe. The knight insists on marriage, and 
 the mermaiden is only too willing. A priest is sent for to 
 perform the rite. But the priest cannot marry them without 
 shriving the intending bride; and when he commences to use 
 the sacred formula, at the first word there is a shriek, and the 
 beautiful half-demon disappears. 
 
 Such is, materially, the legend of the Lurleiberg, around 
 which De La Mothe Fouque, and Praed, and a score of the 
 German poets have woven some of their most exquisite 
 fancies, until the place much more belongs to them than to 
 any Rhine Electorate or German Empire that can be named. 
 And is the thought all idle, however hollow and baseless? 
 Perhaps not. Perhaps one of the saddest and most nregnant 
 lessons of human life is taught here at the foot of the Lurlei¬ 
 berg, as nowhere else on earth—that of temptation. Rank, 
 station, knightly honor, the responsibilities of duty, all are as- 
 nothing before it, after a certain amount of sight and hear¬ 
 ing has been indulged in ; and the victim has many a long day 
 of mourning over his degradation as well as his loss, when the 
 mists of his infatuation have cleared away and he is once 
 more his unhappv self. 
 
 Perhaps, too, something else than the romantic story of the 
 Lorelie is taught here to-day ; for the Governor and the 
 Artist, musing and chatting over all this, and full of the very 
 romantic feeling of the poets and romancists, had, on that 
 special day, another of those shocks of the new and 
 the actual, coming to them not long before in connec¬ 
 tion with the Corpus Christi procession. The Lurleiberg 
 is railway tunnelled ! The heart of the mystery, if any there 
 was, has been dug out by dingy men with pickaxes and 
 shovels- Think of it ! And at the very moment when they 
 were deep in recitations of Praed and the other poets who 
 must always be “minor” to him, there was a shriek which 
 would have thrown that of the Lorelie herself into the 
 merest silence, and a train broke with a rush and roar out 
 
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 of the hole at the upper edge, and went madly away up the 
 Rhine bank toward Lorch and johannisberg. Then, to use a 
 modern phrase, they “gave it up !” Evidently there was no 
 longer a spot of ground on the wide earth, to which the steam 
 spirit had not gained access. The fancies of the poets were 
 dwarfed by a more stupendous if a rougher reality; and they 
 resigned themselves to the thought of being whirled by rail, 
 some day, through the Garden of Eden, as they had both 
 irreverently dashed through romantic old Conway Castle with a 
 feeling of entering a lady’s boudoir with a mucky wheelbarrow. 
 Still, the modern has its advantages ! They would not have 
 much fancied such a return to the past as would have sent 
 them that day up the Rhine in a row-boat; and so submitted ! 
 
 Oberwesel lies not far beyond St. Goar, on the right; and it 
 is a very pretty place, with very romantic scenery around it 
 But the great body of travellers who do not pay very close at¬ 
 tention to their guide-books, believe that the crumbling ruin 
 near it is really Oberwesel, instead of being what it really is— 
 Schonberg, or “ Bright Hill.” This old castle is much more 
 than a name to those who trace its history closely ; for within 
 its walls, that had other births of consequence of a warlike and 
 ambitious race, was born Frederick Herman of Schonberg, 
 who fought so gallantly in the French service as to conipel 
 the Spaniards to acknowledge the complete independence of 
 Portugal and the regal rights of the House of Braganza ; then 
 was for awhile in the Prussian diplomatic service ; and finally 
 served under William of Orange in his conquest of England, 
 and died at the Battle of the Boyne, the Marshal Duke of 
 Schonberg, when, 
 
 “ Brave Puke Schonberg lost his life, 
 
 By venturing over Boyne Water.’’ 
 
 Wine and poetry are somewhat closely blended in one of 
 the next points of importance, also on the right—Bacharach- 
 But this must be dismissed with a word ; for most of the 
 volume of rhymes that has been written about the excellence 
 of the Bacharach wine, is quietly forgotton ; and the Governor 
 could only remember of the celebrated triplet comparing the 
 
UP THE RHINE. 
 
 151 
 
 “three best kinds of wine,” that “ Bacharach on the Rhine ” 
 furnished one of them. A little below, and nearer to the east¬ 
 ern bank than the western, stands in the river the six-sided 
 castle known as the Pfalz, or Palatinate, with a church-like 
 low dome rising from the centre, and half a dozen or more of 
 smaller spires around it. It is said to have been erected by 
 Louis II., Emperor, in the thirteenth century, as a toll-house 
 for vessels passing up and down the Rhine ; and whether it 
 has any use or not, it is certainly a picturesque object in the 
 view, with the town of Caub on the bank behind it, and the 
 remains of the noble castle of Gutenfels on the rocky heights 
 above. This was the old house of the knights of Falkenstein ; 
 here Richard, Earl of Cornwall and son of the English King 
 Henry III., as well as once elected Emperor of Germany, fell 
 in love with Beatrice of Falkenstein and eventually married 
 her ; and here Napoleon, about 1805, set his mint mark on it 
 by blowing up a part and dismantling the remainder. 
 
 Not far above the places last named, and on the spectator’s 
 right, at near a very sharp turn of the river in the same direc¬ 
 tion, stands a tower, about which there has probably been as 
 much silly speculation vented, as any other building on the 
 habitable globe. They call it the Mouse Tower. And first one 
 tells a story of it, that there were two brothers, one of whom 
 built a castle on the height opposite (now ruined Ehrenfels), 
 and called it the Cat, as indicating that he intended to catch all 
 passers on the river, while the other built this below and 
 called it the Mouse, in mock humility. But the more import¬ 
 ant legend is that of Bishop Hatto, of Bingen (immortalized 
 by Southey, but by no means originated by him) who, in time 
 of coming famine, bought up all the corn, and stored it in this 
 tower, starving the people, until the rats scented the grain in 
 the building and swam off to it, to the number of a few mil¬ 
 lions, and ate it all, and ate him , leaving only a pile of neatly- 
 picked episcopal bones. Not a bad story, but how stupidly 
 applied ! For the name is the Mouse Tower—not the Ratzen 
 Thurm, as it would be if rats were the vermin indicated ; and 
 some one ought to re-make that legend, and give it a shade 
 
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 more of consistency if not of credibility. Perhaps there might 
 be a trifle of difficulty in piecing it together, from the fact 
 that there really never was any Mouse Tower about it, but 
 that it was the Manse (or Watch) kept on transit up and down 
 the Rhine,—and that it is so to-day, hoisting signals to boats 
 on the river, to slow and be careful against collision, when 
 other boats are coming out from the Nahe, at the Binger- 
 brucke (Bingen bridge) behind the great bluff at the turn. 
 
 All this is, however, “ of no consequence,” as Mr. Toots 
 might say, when placed beside the fact that just here and now 
 is made the approach, also on the right, to the handsome and 
 cleanly-looking old town of Bingen, which seems to have 
 received a baptism of exceptional neatness from the location 
 there of the Hon. Mrs. Norton’s charming poem, “ Bingen on 
 the Rhine.” It lies at the mouth of the little river Nahe, 
 already noted, and so has the same promontory advantages 
 as Coblentz. It is really very pleasant and attractive, and 
 bears the reputation of being very health}' and agreeable as 
 a residence—not to mention the fact that it has a wine-trade, 
 and consequently wines, worth the noting. But what was this, 
 that both the Artist and the Governor heard, as the splashing 
 of the wheels ceased and the steamer was for the time still, 
 at the wharf? There was a party of three or four, English- 
 looking (they may have been Americans, but probably were 
 not), one of whom, a spinster of forty, with curls corkscrewed 
 and a book in her mitted hand, was just repeating, as the two 
 friends passed—repeating, with eyes sentimentally rolled up, 
 four lines of that poem (more or less): 
 
 “ Then hang the old sword in its place— 
 
 My father’s sword and mine ; 
 
 For I was horn at Binjen , 
 
 Dear Binjen on the Rhine.” 
 
 The Artist made a grimace—the Governor made an answer¬ 
 ing one. It was not the first time that either had heard the 
 word so pronounced, and it probably would not be the last 
 similar experience. But at that moment it “ hit them hard,” 
 to quote a modern phrase. The Artist indicated the swallow- 
 
UP THE EUIINE. 
 
 153 
 
 ing of a green persimmon, and continued the composition, 
 sotto voce : 
 
 “That poem is somewhat unhingein’, 
 
 Witii such au end to the line.” 
 
 “Yes,” indorsed the Governor,— 
 
 “How it sets the ears a cringin’: 
 
 At least it does so with mine.” 
 
 Finished by the Artist, with : 
 
 “ Like the yell of a Modoc Injin, 
 
 Comm’ in with scalpin’ design.” 
 
 The moral of all which verbal balderdash is: Do examine 
 dictionaries and gazetteers, and learn to pronounce, at least a 
 little, before extended travelling! Don’t murder one of the 
 sweetest poems in the English language, and one of the often- 
 est repeated, by miscalling the German word “ Bing-en,” “ Bin- 
 jen,” or anything else that rhymes with “ Injun.” 
 
 With Bingen it may be said that the peculiar glory of the 
 Rhine has departed, as the magnificent rocky wildness has 
 most of it ceased at the Lurleiberg. The banks become low, 
 verdurous and partially wooded, though still very beautiful— 
 the hills swelling upward in long rolls of fertile green, and 
 the drooping willows along the banks seeming better to be¬ 
 long to sunny France than to the wild and rocky Rhineland. 
 Away from the river, to the left, stands the Schloss Johannis- 
 berger, or chateau of Prince Metternich, looking much more 
 like a square gentleman’s-mansion of a central building with 
 two lower wings, than a castle. The Artist, when it was 
 pointed out to him, did not believe in it at all. “ Bah !” he 
 said, “you cannot pass off that on me. as anything more than 
 Prince Metternich’s wine house or possibly his stables.” Yet 
 he came to believe in it afterwards, and to confess that it 
 might be a noble residence, especially after being informed 
 that Napoleon gave it to his dragoon, General Kellerman, in 
 the conquest days of both. 
 
 Then a landing at Bieberich, with nothing of any special 
 interest in the appearance of the town—those going to Wies¬ 
 baden disembarking here ; and then on, with the river broad, 
 
154 
 
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 low-banked and gentle. The oddest of all odd spires of a cathe¬ 
 dral rising ahead,—much more like a Turkish mosque than 
 anything else, over a wilderness of clustering roofs ; and the 
 end of the voyage proper was reached. They were at Mayence, 
 bidding a regretful goodby at once to the Wilhelm, Kaiser and 
 Konig, and to good Captain Kluth, whom they both hope some 
 day to see in America and to reciprocate some portion of his 
 gentlemanly attention, even if they cannot guide and direct 
 him so intelligently. At Mayence, to run hastily through the 
 huge old red-sandstone cathedral, with that semi-Saracenic 
 upper finish, and with an eventful history of outrage and sacri¬ 
 lege, culminating with the French using it as a barrack in 
 1813, after the manner of the English with the churches of 
 New York in 1776. They sawthe interior, rich with the mon¬ 
 uments of the Electors ; but with little else entitling it to take 
 place beside its great sisters, so lately unveiling their glories 
 to the eyes of the travellers And not even the statue of Gut- 
 tenberg, by Thorwaldsen, or the site where stood the house of 
 that pioneer of printing, could awaken in the minds wearied 
 out with the Rhine excitement, any absorbing interest in the 
 old city, however important a link it supplied in the chain of 
 towns of the great river, commencing at Constance and end¬ 
 ing at Rotterdam. 
 
XVIII. 
 
 FRANKFORT-ON-THE-MAIN, AND HEIDELBERG. 
 
 Passengers on the Rhine steamers, for Frankfort-on-the- 
 Main, very often disembark at Bieberich, whence they have 
 direct rail (by Wiesbaden, very near Bieberich), by Castel 
 and Hochstadt, to Frankfort. The Governor made landing 
 there on a certain day of the summer; and, there being no 
 longer any special attraction to Wiesbaden, owing to the 
 stoppage of roulette and rouge-et-noir there, and his utter ob¬ 
 jection to unnecessary baths, whether white or of any other 
 color, he took the line of rail just noted, and in an hour of 
 pleasant riding, without stopping for the bath, was in the old 
 city on the Main, which has so long boasted of being one of 
 the freest of the “ Free Cities.” 
 
 Not only one of the freeest of the free cities, but one of the 
 oldest, boasting so much importance, even in 793, that Char¬ 
 lemagne, who was always “ holding ” something, somewhere, 
 held a Council here in that year. Also, that it was fortified by 
 his successors, as one of the keys of the Rheingau, in 838 to 
 843, and erected into a free city in 1154. Leaping suddenly to 
 the late from the far past, Napoleon made it the capital of a 
 Grand Duchy, instead of merely the head of the German Con¬ 
 federation ; and in 1866 it was incorporated with Prussia, and 
 became merely one of the great cities of Germany. But 
 neither Napoleon nor Kaiser Wilhelm could change the 
 remembrance, in the minds of the Frankfurters, that for ages 
 the German electors always elected and crowned the Emperor 
 here ; that here Goethe, perhaps the most universal of German 
 favorites, was born in 1749; and that here the Rothschilds, the 
 first of all the capitalist families of all ages on the earth, had 
 their origin, and wove the golden web literally enmeshing half 
 the world. 
 
 These memories, at least, were running through the mind 
 of the history-worshipping Governor, as he disembarked that 
 
156 
 
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 day from the train, and made his way to the Romer, or Romer 
 Halle, on the'Place des Empereurs, unquestionably the most 
 interesting building in Germany (for what it has contained 
 and for what it contains), and one of the most interesting in 
 the world. There is not much of the picturesque in its outer 
 appearance, except that the extreme age is undoubted, in spite 
 ol those pestering “ restorations,” one of which (equivalent to 
 the forced scrubbing of a child who has objections to the treat 
 ment) the old building underwent in 1840. Nor is there much 
 respect paid to the lower part of the structure, within, one 
 would think,—the ground floor and basement being used as a 
 storage place for merchandise against the great fairs ! But it 
 contains the Kaisersaal (Emperor’s Hall) on the first floor— 
 “ restored,” but not ruined, since the old days when the newly- 
 chosen Emperor dined here with the Electors who had elevated 
 him to his dignity, and then showed himself to the people from 
 the balcony still hanging over the Romerberg, the square in 
 front. 
 
 In any other place, and under any other circumstances, the 
 Governor would heap anathemas on the “restorers” who, 
 some thirty or forty years since, destroyed the antique frescoes 
 on the walls of this gray and grand old hall. But he cannot; 
 no, he cannot, here and now. They did well, those 
 “restorers” and the “princes, societies and private indi¬ 
 viduals,” who employed them and paid the expenses of their 
 work. For the series of life-size and full-length portraits of 
 the Emperors, clustered like so many bees around the walls 
 of this hall, form one of the noblest collections in the world— 
 noble from the subjects handled, and noble in the research 
 which must have been displayed in obtaining so many absolute 
 likenesses from quarters supposed inaccessible, and the genius 
 which must have been employed in the work. 
 
 A wonderful collection, truly ! Here, in the imperial Coro¬ 
 nation chair, the original still preserved at Aix-la-Chapelle, 
 sits Charlemagne, aquiline-nosed, forked-bearded and stern, 
 wearing the six-sided cross-topped iron crown, with sweeping 
 robes, holding the cross-crowned ball of the world in his left 
 
FRANKFORT AND HEIDELBERG. 
 
 157 
 
 hand, and the sword Joyeuse by the hilt across his lap with the 
 right; Louis the Debonnaire, broad-bearded and stately, with 
 right hand on side and the left holding the sword point down¬ 
 ward, stands with his robes covering a width nearly the same 
 as his height; Louis the Germanic, half-robed and tunicked, 
 with short beard, long hair, and grave, noble face, holds the 
 scroll of “ Vero ” in the left hand and lifts the right heaven¬ 
 ward, taking the oath ; Arnulph, fierce-faced, strides forward 
 with banner in his left hand and unsheathed sword in his 
 right, as if in battle ; young Otho the Third, carrying the ball 
 in his left hand and holding fiis staff in his right, shows a face 
 almost sweet enough for that of the Christ; Henry the 
 Second (Saint Henry) has a grave face, worthy of his saintly 
 character; Otho the Fourth, in mail, and carrying an enor¬ 
 mous spade-shield, looks up with too fierce a glance for the 
 monarch who ran away so hastily from the field of Bouvines; 
 Conrad the Salic looks the warrior that he was, in his short 
 garments, many weaponed, and with threatening while attract¬ 
 ive face ; Henry the Fifth presents a fit embodiment for the 
 German Louis XI., crafty and credulous ; Frederic Barbarossa, 
 in his shirt of mail and tunic, with long fair beard, and hand on 
 side, leans on the pedestal of a column and seems looking 
 afar off for his mysterious and melancholy fate ; Rudolph of 
 Hapsburg, in full armor and carrying his broad shield, proudly 
 holds his flag to the winds, as on a stricken field ; Frederic 
 the Handsome, full mailed and wearing high helmet- 
 crown, as well as carrying shield, seems the most 
 pompous as well as the handsomest of his line ; Gunther 
 of Schwarzburg wears full armor and a round skullcap, 
 and carries a perfect arsenal of the weapons which did not 
 keep him from being the Unfortunate; Wenceslaus, in the 
 dress of a Swiss forester, with crossbow and horn, looks far 
 more like scaling a mountain than ascending a throne ; Maxi¬ 
 milian, in full armor, stately and handsome, presents the very 
 knightly face and figure that might be expected of the man 
 who courted and won Mary of Burgundy in the disguise of a 
 poor knight of the Empire ; and Charles the Fifth, with bared 
 
158 
 
 O VER HALF E UROPE. 
 
 head, eyes looking modestly downward, shoulders slightly 
 stooped, and wearing the Golden Fleece and a furred surcoat 
 over full body armor, presents a notable face and figure, 
 having a strange future in the abdication and the long seclu¬ 
 sion in the Monastery of Yuste. 
 
 But here the list must end, with the remark repeated that 
 the array is a noble one, and that Germany could almost bet¬ 
 ter spare anything else within her borders than the old Roraer 
 of Frankfort, and the likenesses, however many of them may 
 be flattered or imaginary, of her long-dead Emperors. 
 
 The most natural of “ drifts ” following, was that to the Cathe¬ 
 dral, an impressive structure, but by no means capable of 
 vieing with many of its rivals. It contained the old carved 
 chair, however, in which all the early emperors were crowned ; 
 and the Governor, being taken captive by a mischievous girl 
 of the party chance-drifted together, was forced down into 
 that very old chair and crowned with a hastily-constructed 
 diadem of newspaper, the result of the coronation being that 
 he has ever since doubted whether he was at the moment 
 invested with a crown or mocked with a fool’s cap. There is 
 a fine old tomb of the Emperor Gunther, with a very antique 
 gilt effigy, balanced by another effigy of the Emperor Rudolph 
 of Sachsenhausen, horn nearly within sound of the cathedral 
 bell ; and if one was not a little surfeited with the old and the 
 historic, the Cathedral of Frankfort would be worth a long 
 visit and close examination of a variety of antique relics. 
 
 But something else was calling—something else than the 
 reminiscences of mere emperors, who could be made by the 
 sword or the voice of a people. At No. 23 Hirschgraben, near 
 the Rossmarkt, stood the plain and respectable house where 
 Goethe was born ; and thither, as to something more sacred 
 than the scene of any imperial reminiscence, the party wended. 
 Over the door is a tablet bearing the inscription : “In Diesem 
 Hause wurde Johann Wolfgang Goethe am 28. August, 1749, 
 Geboren.” The poet’s arms are also over the door—three 
 lyres and a star, not inappropriate, however denoting plenty 
 of self-consciousness. Plain old rooms, those shown as the 
 
FRANKEOR T AND HEIDELBERG. 
 
 159 
 
 one in which he was born, his play-room study in later years, 
 &c., and the rooms in the attic where he lived, later on, in 1773 
 to 1775, and wrote “ Werther ” and “ Goetz von Berlichingen 
 plain, but full of the memory of one of the first geniuses of the 
 world, who, in giving to that world the embodiment of “ Faust,“ 
 took rank beside Homer and Shakespeare. The house has a 
 noble bust of Goethe, and many pictures and autographs, and 
 a fountain in the yard for which he always held a special 
 affection. It is a pilgrimage worth making, that to the Goethe 
 House at Frankfort; let no one who follows the Governor 
 there, fail to recognize that this is one of the places spoken of 
 by Halleck: 
 
 “-The Delphian Vales, the Palestines, 
 
 The Meccas of the mind.” 
 
 Oddly enough, the next most interesting name belonging to 
 Frankfort, is the one so different from his own, and denoting 
 so different a character—that of Rothschild, which family 
 sprung into celebrity here. The impecunious visitor shuddered 
 a little, passing Rothschild’s office on the Fahrgasse, and re¬ 
 membering the difference of two bank accounts. Then he saw 
 the great banker’s birthplace, at No. 148 of the dingy and dirty 
 old Judengasse—one of a row of very old peaked-roofed houses, 
 now with a range of boots in the window and commonly with 
 the face of a withered old woman behind the boots. The Ju¬ 
 dengasse is a picturesque quarter, with most of the houses of 
 two stories and two attics added ; but it cannot be said that it 
 is inviting, even to a borrower, or that the laws of hygiene are 
 too well observed there. But not far away, on the corner of 
 the Kannengeistgasse (oh, that some one would translate 
 that name !) is the house where Doctor Martin Luther once 
 lived—very old, as it needs to be, and still well-kept and re¬ 
 spectable, with a bas-relief portrait of the old Reformer on the 
 doorpost. 
 
 Then there is a grand monument to Gutenberg on the 
 Grossmarkt, with Faust on one side of him and Schtiffer on 
 the other—the group by Launitz, who, in the accessories, 
 has honored all the arts and many of the leading typographi- 
 
OVER HALF-EUROPE. 
 
 160 
 
 cal cities. And Goethe has a noble monument in bronze, not 
 far away, in the Goethe Platz, on the Allee at the north of the 
 town. And in the Schiller Platz is a fine dark bronze statue 
 of the author of “ Wallenstein ” and the “ Song of the Bell.” 
 And then the most interesting object remaining, to one who 
 had no more time at command than the Governor, and who 
 had no financial longings for the Frankfort Bourse (one of 
 the most extensive in influence, as well as one of the hand¬ 
 somest of commercial buildings) was the room with three win¬ 
 dows, in the Theatre Platz, where Bismarck and Jules Favre 
 signed the Franco-German treaty in 1871, and thus concluded 
 the shortest and most momentous war on record. 
 
 The Governor left Frankfort at three o’clock of that busy 
 and eventful day, crossing the Main, with its fleet of boats 
 moored at the banks ; listening with amused wonder to the 
 number of words that could be spoken in a minute, by a 
 group of German students on their way to Heidleberg, and 
 seeing with equal admiration the number of pipes they could 
 smoke within the hour. After a time, he had the grand half- 
 ruined old castle of Eberstadt on a high hill on the left, and 
 vainly tried to remember whether Luther was not at one time 
 a fugitive there. Then, after a little longer time, and more 
 gabble and smoking on the part of the students, the Cat 
 mountains (Phoebus, what a name!—even worse than the 
 Catskills !) rose grandly to the left and ahead. Then they 
 crossed the little Neckar, over very low water, with many 
 picturesque castles crowning the heights, again at the left; 
 then had dim visions of the Castle and the Konigstuhl; then 
 they once more crossed the Neckar (which one would think 
 might be ruffled by such treatment); and as the dusk fell, the 
 train, the still gabbling and smoking students, and the half- 
 dazed and altogether weary Governor, were at Heidelberg. 
 
 Something of the same nature may be said of Heidelberg, 
 elsewhere ventured with reference to Cologne : to the student 
 of history and the picturesque, it principally consists of the 
 Castle, certainly the grandest remain, the most stupendous 
 ruin, on the face of the globe. The Governor climbed to it, 
 
FRANKFORT AND HEIDELBERG. 
 
 161 
 
 on the morning after his arrival, refreshed and strengthened 
 by the good beds and generous fare of the Hotel de 1 'Europe. 
 The climb, in other words, the long walk steeply up-hill, was 
 no trifle to the plethoric. But what of that, with that which 
 lay ahead, with the splendid views caught over Heidelberg, 
 the Neckar, and the whole historic landscape, as a consider¬ 
 able height was attained, and with the bells of the city, call¬ 
 ing to the Sabbath early service, coming up so sweetly on the 
 air of the calm summer morning ! 
 
 This colossal and beautiful remain, the Castle of Heidelberg, 
 stands on the side of the Konigstuhl (“ King's footstool”), 
 only some 400 feet above the level of the Neckar, though it 
 seems to be at least a thousand. Seen from any considerable 
 distance, it to-day presents the appearance of a palace of vast 
 extent, incorporating some of the turrets of a castle ; and it 
 needs the second and much closer view to know that it is 
 ruined and altogether uninhabitable. When approached, it is 
 a bewildering mass of grandeur in masonry—fortification and 
 ornamentation so mingled that the thought becomes confused 
 over it, and desolation made beautiful by the materials on 
 which it has wrought. 
 
 The castle is supposed to have been built by Ludwig the 
 Severe, son-in-law of the first German Emperor, Rudolph of 
 Hapsburg, at near the close of the thirteenth century. The 
 Rupert’s Tower was built by the Elector Rupert III., who was 
 elected Emperor in 1400. The Elector Frederic I., the Victo¬ 
 rious, materially enlarged the building ; and several of the 
 Electors of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, especially 
 Otto Heinrich, Frederic IV., and Frederic V. (the latter of 
 whom married Elizabeth, daughter of James I, of England, 
 and became King of Bohemia) made additions of palace-like 
 splendor to what had before been merely a grand fortress. 
 In the Thirt3r Years’ War, which devastated half Europe, it 
 suffered seriously; and in 1689 the French General Melac 
 blew up what he could of the noble old pile, and destroyed 
 all destructible objects of beauty that fell in his way. But 
 one thing more remained, and that came. In 1764 it was 
 
162 
 
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 struck by lightning, and all that would burn was burned. 
 From that time, only the walls remained ; but enough was 
 left, and enough is still left in this last quarter of the nine¬ 
 teenth century, to justify the remark already made, that it is 
 the noblest ruin on earth. Pieces of it, and fragments of 
 many of the ornamentations, have been carried away, all over 
 the earth, by the unconscionable vandals (one leaf from a 
 capital lies before the writer, as he writes); but still enough 
 remains, in towers, turrets, balconies, stairways, courts, and 
 the outlines of chambers, to justify the guide-book phrase 
 which calls it the “ Alhambra of the Germans.” 
 
 No attempt is here to be hazarded at description ; the sea is 
 not more indescribable. The Governor only knows that he 
 wandered among fallen columns, amid relics alike of artistic 
 taste and military strength, with statues all around him, 
 upright and prostrate, until he only knew that the world had 
 nothing like it, in construction and demolition, and thanked 
 heaven that there had been one round-tower which the French 
 powder was not strong enough to overthrow, so that it only 
 toppled and remains to-day but half-fallen. Nothing can be 
 so sad, and yet nothing so glorious, as what were once noble 
 halls and magnificent gardens, alike choked with carved 
 columns and fallen statues: nothing can be so pregnant a 
 comment alike on the pride and the destructiveness of man, as 
 what remains of grand old Heidelberg Castle. Around it the 
 poets, and the romantic travellers, have thrown the halo of 
 their fancies, aiding the luxurious ivy and the irrepressible 
 trees in hiding every rent and making every fragment beautiful ; 
 and so it may be left to the hands of the coming ages. 
 
 The Grand Duke of Baden (present sovereign of Heidelberg) 
 has magnificent fish-ponds at the Wolfsbrunnen, a few miles 
 away down (or up) the Neckar, and a favorite resort of the 
 students; and the Governor rode down there, and saw some 
 of the finest trout on the globe Avith the single exception of 
 those at the Tahoe Fisheries ear Lake Tahoe, on the borders 
 of California). He tried to buy the privilege of fishing in the 
 ponds, for only one hour, and was indignantly repelled The 
 
FRANKFORT AND HEIDELBERG. 
 
 163 
 
 fact is merely mentioned, so that others may not make the 
 same costly effort and meet with the same signal failure. 
 Nearly a corresponding ill-success attended an attempt to buy 
 and remove to Hoboken the celebrated Heidelberg Tun, of the 
 capacity of 49,000 gallons (why not 50,000 ?—why, oh, why 
 scant it that one miserable thousand ?) which stands in one ol 
 the vaults below the Castle, with a wooden figure of one of 
 the old court-jesters near it, and a second tun of only about 
 30,000 gallons capacity, mouldering away with envy in a near 
 corner. 
 
 The fact is disgraceful, but writing of one of the most cele¬ 
 brated of the German University-towns, the Governor knows 
 nothing and troubles himself less about Heidelberg Univer¬ 
 sity. He saw it, on the Ludwigsplatz, regarded it with a 
 shudder, and passed on. Whether the thought of the alleged 
 duelling, and the effect produced by it on the Heidelberg 
 students’ faces (they are not handsome, most of them, as 
 transiently seen)—whether this, or dread of the vast learning 
 there accumulated, most moved him, who shall say ? Then 
 he did not ascend the Konigstuhl, from the Castle, as he 
 might, could, would and should have done, but for various 
 reasons, indolence the principal. He did wander down by the 
 side of the Neckar, at evening, after deciding that the old 
 town, though with a few picturesque features, is by no means 
 rarely attractive. There wandering, and trying to be romantic 
 over the pretty stream, the walks beside it, and the boats cross¬ 
 ing it, he was beset by so many millions of mosquitoes (01 
 were they gnats?) that he indignantly went back to his hotel, 
 and bade goodby to Heidelberg at least twenty-four hours 
 earlier than he would have done in the absence of that 
 uncalled-for and umntermittent blood-letting, which may 
 have begun on the New Jersey marshes or at Rockaway, but 
 has certainly reached its climax along the Neckar and beside 
 the Adriatic. 
 
 12 
 
ZKIXZS- 
 
 A PLEASANT IIORROR, AT MUNICH. 
 
 The Governor was in Munich, the magnificent capital of 
 Bavaria. He had reached that capital from Heidelberg, in 
 very good company, and yet company with which he could 
 not always keep himself thoroughly amused. He had fairly 
 traversed the streets of the city, so suddenly grown to be one 
 of the handsomest capitals in Europe, since the accession to 
 power of Louis I., who seems to have devoted to it both his 
 fortune and his life ; he had explored the churches, with some 
 of the finest stained glass in the world, and the very finest of 
 modern manufacture ; he had visited the Royal Palace, to see 
 the handsomest throne-room in Europe, in white and gold, 
 with colossal gilded statues, and the royal bed-room, with so 
 much gold bullion on the bed that sleep seemed doubtful; 
 and the Alt Residenz, to see the noblest cartoons of the 
 century, by Kaulbach and others ; and the Pinacothek, to be 
 bewildered with the glory of a mass of paintings by all the 
 great masters of antique and modern art, scarcely to be 
 paralleled in the Louvre or at Florence ; and the Schwan- 
 thaler Museum, to see many of the notables of the world, 
 embodied in statuary as glorious as their best works and as 
 colossal as their fame; and the great bronze foundry of 
 Muller, to see bronze-work intended to decorate the show- 
 places of two continents ; and many other places belonging 
 to the Paris of Central Europe, all proving that the royal 
 lover ofLolaMontez was a connoisseur in other beauties than 
 there represented by her and Wilhelmina Sulzer ; and, all this 
 done, and much more that cannot and need not be recalled 
 (including several ineffectual trials at drinking the celebrated 
 Bavarian beer), he grew slightly lonesome if not ennuyte, and 
 took various and sundry walks and rides, in what the Scotch 
 call “ his lane,” to his profit in some instances, and in others 
 to the enriching of his recollection with what he would quite 
 as willingly forget as remember. 
 
ABOUT MUNICH. 
 
 165 
 
 Among the strolls from the Hotel Bellevue, to which, at 
 this time, he became addicted, was a favorite one to the Eng¬ 
 lish Garden (Englischer Garten) tying on the banks of the 
 Iser, and containing all the charms of the favorite promenades 
 of Continental cities,—from the which, in addition to other 
 attractions, he had the privilege of looking oil at the great 
 range of the Bavarian Highlands, cooling his imagination 
 with their snow-peaks, and making of them, for the time, the 
 Alps, from which he was temporarily debarred during some 
 of the hottest weather in memory. 
 
 It was from the English Garden, on one of those very hot 
 days when rest seemed impossible and motion was discomfort 
 —that the Governor wandered away, guiltless of either know¬ 
 ing or caring for his destination. Without beingat all enl ight- 
 ened, he at last found himself entering a cemetery, not even 
 then recognized as the Great Cemetery of Munich. Not espe¬ 
 cially enraptured with burial-places in general, and with much 
 more fancy for reminders of people’s living than their dying,— 
 the miscellaneous traveller could not avoid being pleased with 
 this special City of the Dead, where so much respect for those 
 gone beyond mortal reach seemed blended with so much 
 that was appropriate in inscription and decoration. Loving 
 hands appeared to have been busy, every day and always, not 
 merely placing flowers on the tombs at the hour of burial, and 
 then going away to leave them, with the dead, unconsidered,— 
 the dead to rot and the flowers to hang withered and unsightly 
 —but renewing them continually, and sprinkling them with 
 moisture only less sacred than the tears of the mourner. 
 I 1 or in front of tomb after tomb, along whole streets of neatly 
 kept and tasteful monuments—in front of each was a little 
 raised font, kept filled with water, for the purpose of reviving 
 the drooping flowers, as the lives gone out within could not 
 be revived. 
 
 Then, what could be more prettily suggestive of that actual 
 affection which the living like to believe will be felt for them 
 when dead—than such simple and homely inscriptions as the 
 invaluable note-book that day took down in fragments: 
 
168 
 
 OVER HALF-EUROPE. 
 
 “ Hier ruhen der beste Vater, Gabriel Sedelmann, Bierbrauer 
 und Elligfabrikant, geboren,” &c. “ Die liebervosse Mutter 
 
 Franziska Sedelmann, geboren Ileik.” “Theresa Wagner, 
 Bierbrauer’s Wittwe,” &c., &c. Then there was some sugges¬ 
 tiveness of the family, existing beyond the sad day of burial, 
 in the general inscription on the larger tombs: “ Familien 
 Grabstatte,” with the occasional personal additions : “ Ruhe- 
 
 staette fur die Familie Von Tausch.” “ Hof braumeister 
 Pfleigersche Grabstatte,” and many others of similar charac¬ 
 ter. Actually—the observer said to himself—these Bavarians, 
 with so many other features to command respect and not a 
 few to awaken the opposite sensation—these Bavarians have 
 done a great work for the world of feeling, in contributing 
 their mite to make the idea of death less repulsive than it is 
 made by so many others; and it is impossible to leave the 
 Cemetery of Munich without carrying away impressions excep¬ 
 tionally pleasant. A remark which he may have modified at 
 a very early period. 
 
 Passing down the long street of tombs which seemed to be 
 one of the principal in the Cemetery, and observing with 
 attention the variety of monuments on either side, the Gover¬ 
 nor gave very little heed to other particulars of his way, and 
 equally little to the end thereof (possibly a bad habit of his, 
 elsewhere than at the burial-ground at Munich). When he 
 looked up, far down the street, a building of some size showed 
 still a hundred or two of yards in advance. A building rather 
 low, and covering some extent of ground, with windows of 
 much more than the average size for an erection of the same 
 dimensions. Ah—once more he remarked to himself—this 
 must be a chapel, where, as in many other cemeteries, service 
 can be held over the dead who have not before had their 
 obsequies celebrated in any church. No vehicles seemed to 
 be standing in the neighborhood, so that there was not likely to 
 be any service in progress; though soon after observing the 
 building, and sauntering towards it at the rate of half a mile 
 the hour, he noticed that two or three persons passed him and 
 that at least one of them ascended some steps to a piazza 
 
ABOUT MUNICH. 
 
 167 
 
 and disappeared. Then, still approaching at the same rate, 
 he allowed some sudden fit of abstraction to take possession 
 of him, bent his eyes to the ground, and did not raise them 
 again until he had mechanically ascended the steps and stood 
 on the piazza (a broad one, along the whole front), within two 
 feet of one of the large windows. 
 
 Horror of the unexpected ! Within two or three feet of 
 that window, in a chair, with the natural position of one at 
 momentary rest there, but with the livid hue of the three- 
 days’ corpse upon his face, sat a dead man. His glassy eyes were 
 open, and he seemed to be gazing at the man without, quite as 
 much as the man without was gazing in upon him. The eye 
 moved away from the ghastly spectacle, and another met it, a 
 little at the right, even worse. A dear little girl, who might 
 have been eight or ten years of age, lay on a couch, half 
 covered with flowers, the little face actually green with the 
 evidences of decay. And near her an old man, with white 
 hair, leaning down on a half-couch, half-bed, grinned in a 
 ghastly death that had been half anticipated before his last 
 breath. Some flowers were around him, too, and above him 
 hung down the branches of a tree. 
 
 By this time the horrified eye began to take in better the 
 whole space of the chamber, and the dead started into view at 
 every point, sitting, lying, reclining, in all the horror of rotten¬ 
 ness, and the terrible feeling materially added to by the whole 
 forest of artificial trees (so known afterward) that hung above 
 them, and the perfect wilderness of flowers (also artificial) 
 from among which their glassy eyes and decaying faces looked 
 out. They were here, there, everywhere—in every condition 
 of decay, up to the very culmination that has no name. 
 Every new glance revealed a new one, and a new horror. But 
 the acme was reached when, sweeping the eye some distance 
 to the right, a young and lovely woman, wearing white robes 
 that might have belonged to a bride, and crowned with a 
 wreath of flowers as a bride might have been, grinned and 
 stared at the gazer with the frightfulness of all the others 
 combined. A very mocking carnival of horrors the whole 
 
168 
 
 OVER HALF-EUROPE 
 
 thing seemed—the leaves and flowers the accessories to make 
 the sensation a thousand times aggravated. If Holbein’s 
 awful “ Dance of Death” could have had an original, here was 
 something quite to equal it at its worst: if there was a spot 
 on all the broad earth where the very different sensations of 
 broken-hearted pity and sickening disgust could come to¬ 
 gether, here was the spot. 
 
 Strangely, the use of one faculty to such an extent had 
 kept all the others dormant. It was only when some dreadful 
 minutes had elapsed, and the gazer, who wished himself any¬ 
 where else than in the face of that horror, and yet could not 
 take away his eyes from it, drew a breath before restrained,— 
 that he became aware of the atmosphere of death in which he 
 stood. Everything was permeated by it—an odor of the 
 vault, heavy, sickening, unendurable. Then some one from 
 within came hurriedly to a door leading to the piazza, 
 threw it open and so held it for a moment as he passed out. 
 God of Mercy ! what an effluvia came out with him. What a 
 combination of all the loathsomenesses to which the daintiest 
 flesh can turn, when the vital spark no longer holds it sweet 
 and fragrant, smote the senses from that crowded charnel- 
 house of perhaps thirty bodies ! 
 
 The Governor had approached the Munich Dead-House 
 (such he afterward knew it to be) very slowly. He left it 
 very suddenly, rather falling off than leaping from the piazza. 
 He paid no attention to the expressions of affection on the 
 tombs, or the arrangements for watering the flowers, as he 
 made what is called “ long legs ” up the avenue of the 
 Cemetery. He was choking with that fetid breath ; stifling 
 with that odor of Gehenna. To get clear of it, at any cost— 
 that was the one idea remaining in his dazed brain. There 
 was a fountain at near the entrance, bubbling with clear, cool 
 water. He paid no attention to law or the proprieties, but, 
 dropping his hat beside the fountain, plunged his head into 
 it, and gurgled and strangled there after the manner of a 
 porpoise in the other element. Fortunately, when an officer 
 came up to arrest him for this desecration (and worse, though 
 
ABOUT MUNICH. 
 
 169 
 
 that the officer did not guess) of the drinking-fountain, he 
 did not know enough of German to understand one word, and 
 so was dismissed with some official oaths as too stupid even 
 for punishment. 
 
 This was the “ pleasant horror ” at the Dead-House of the 
 Munich Great Cemetery, where, as he afterward learned at 
 the Hotel Bellevue, and from books, every one dying in the 
 city is taken, immediately after death, and there placed, with 
 a bell-handle fitted into the hand, so that if any lingering 
 spark of life remains, any slightest motion of that hand will 
 ring a bell within hearing of sleepless watchers, so that pre¬ 
 mature burial is rendered impossible. But where, in spite of 
 the custom, so benevolent, if so ghastly in its details, after¬ 
 inquiry and research could not discover that ever in three 
 hundred years the bell had rung, indicating the wish of one 
 of the supposed dead to come back to the land and the com¬ 
 panionship of the living. 
 
LINDAU, CONSTANCE, AND THE RHINE-FALLS. 
 
 The Governor left Munich with a heavy heart, in spite of his 
 gladness to be away from the Dead-House. Not alone be¬ 
 cause he was leaving behind one of the greatest art centres of 
 the world, but because the Artist had deserted him, to spend 
 a month or two more among the pictures and possibly to die 
 miserably in their midst. He was not alone, however, in 
 leaving: the Dominie was “ to the fore,” and also the wife 
 and heir of that professor ; so that loneliness was out of the 
 question. They left Munich at 10:30, and spent most of the 
 ensuing two hours crossing a flat and uninteresting country, 
 studying the barber-poled fences of white and blue (the colors 
 of Bavaria) literally everywhere and in all directions. At 
 12:30, awakening from this abstruse study, they had a glimpse 
 of the low-banked and sluggish river Lech, and at 1 P. M., 
 picturesque little old Friedburg was near at the right, with a 
 lofty round-tower redeeming the whole scene and giving the 
 nobility of a city. Then more than a trifle of moor and bog, 
 with the peat-smoke from the locomotive obvious ; and a little 
 later older and more picturesque Augsburg came into view, 
 redolent with the atmosphere of the Middle Ages, and 
 with memories of its important connection with many of the 
 great events moving the world through centuries. 
 
 The travellers lunched at Augsburg, and that was all. No, 
 not all ; for they had, from the train and station, a glimpse of 
 queer old Augsburg Cathedral, with a half-Turkish tower, 
 reminding one that it was built while the memory of the Cru¬ 
 sades was heavy on the earth. And if they did not enter the 
 old town, they mused (some of them at least) over the 
 strange history of the old Roman Augusta Vindelicorum ; long 
 a free imperial city ; the spot from which went forth the cele¬ 
 brated “ Augsburg Confession,” even to-day repeated round 
 the world ; and the place from which three daughters of 
 
CONSTANCE AND RHINE FALLS. 
 
 171 
 
 commoners also went forth to princely beds : Clara von Det- 
 ten to that of the Elector Frederick the Victorious ; Agnes 
 Bernauer to that of Duke Albert III. of Bavaria; and Phillip- 
 pina Welser to that of Archduke Ferdinand of Austria. Also, 
 where the “ Rothschilds of the Middle Ages,” the Fuggers, 
 had their origin, to fill the empty coffers of princes and thus 
 privately manage half the affairs of Europe. 
 
 Ah, well—they steamed away from Augsburg, with more of 
 those universal intentions to return and explore the old city. 
 And then the Governor fell into tribulation. For in the same 
 carriage were turee, temporarily set to guard his fate and 
 likewise to embitter it. The first was the Ecclesiastic, and the 
 others were his Appendages. Ecclesiastic sternly pointed to 
 the legand “ Nicht Raucher” on the side of the carriage, and 
 forbade the Gubernatorial lighting of a cigar, under penalty 
 of “calling the guard.” This, in Bavaria, where the very 
 chickens smoke and the sheep are inveterate old puffers ! 
 However, all this was borne, with the objurgations silent if 
 deep ; and they rolled on, by Bissenhoften and Oberdorff, at 
 the latter commencing to catch fine views of the nearing 
 mountains, ahead and at the left. 
 
 [It must have been at Oberdorff, or thereabouts, that the 
 Governor, having the spirit of research strong upon him, 
 made Ihe special acquaintance of a son who was an idiot and 
 a mother who was a fool. There were a considerable number 
 of stoppages; and at every one of them the I. and the F., 
 who were in separate carriages, stuck their heads from the 
 windows and held loud and loving conversations with each 
 other, from which one might have deduced that the separation 
 was murdering them by inches. Then, at Oberdorff—we will say 
 Oberdorff, as near enough—the I. alighted from his compart¬ 
 ment, and went up to that occupied by the F., and they then 
 and thereupon hugged and kissed in the public view, in the 
 style of people separated for a twelvemonth. Then the I., who 
 bought something to eat and something to drink at every stop¬ 
 page, fed the F. with a little of his cake, after the manner of a 
 bird; and then they hugged and kissed again ; and then the 
 
172 
 
 OVER II.A LF-E UR OPE. 
 
 whistle blew and the comedy was suspended, to be recom¬ 
 menced at the first opportunity. Did any one laugh ? Who 
 knows—seeing that the laughter must be in German ? But 
 the same question need not be asked, as to the single and 
 mild detail of disgust, and the other and milder detail of a 
 desire to choke the two fools of different calibres, with one 
 of their own indecent embraces.] 
 
 All this was forgotten bye-and-bye, however, even if the 
 scene was really Oberdorff. For at the left, as they rolled 
 on, came up the very finest of the Bavarian Highlands, rough, 
 picturesque and attractive, and Grunten, called the “ Rhigi of 
 Bavaria,’’ and a summer resort of eminence. Then came Im- 
 menstadt, a picturesque old town, lying under the very brow 
 of the mountains, and with magnificent view's that would not 
 have shamed the Bernese Oberland ; and then, just before 
 sunset, the beautiful little Immensee, at the left—verily, 
 scarcely more than a bowl, but with all the inherent dignity 
 and all the surroundings of one of the great mountain lakes. 
 Here it was that the Dominie unbent from the seventy of his 
 reverie, which had lasted most of the way from Munich, and 
 observed, with the painful suspicion of a smile on his broad 
 brow, “ Humph ! ha ! oh ! They call that the Immensee, do 
 they ? Humph ! well, to me it does not look very much like 
 an immense sea ; rather like a very small one.” 
 
 The records of Bavaria have not been examined as to. the 
 above mild venture being copyright. Enough that there was 
 no arrest; that they rolled on with a glorious sunset among 
 the hills, by Oberstaufen ; as the dusk fell, at Hergatz ; and not 
 long after the chiming of nine from some one of the old towers, 
 at Lindau, on the Lake of Constance, with the new moon shin¬ 
 ing sweetly on the dark waters of the “ Bodensee,” a steam¬ 
 boat just coming in from Constance, and the whole little har¬ 
 bor alive with boats, lights and music, as was only fitting and 
 proper for a place so often named the “ Venice of Germany.” 
 (Parenthetically, the supper, in a large dining-hall over look 
 ing the lake, might have been more quiet if less appetizing, 
 had not the Ecclesiastic, tired of battling only the Governor, 
 
CONSTANCE AND JUIINE-FALLS. 
 
 173 
 
 concluded to assault the whole German nation, and set up his 
 banner of “ Nicht Raucher ” in the supper room where every¬ 
 body smoked between their bits of steak and sups of tea. He 
 had “a good time of it ” before the conclusion, and was finally 
 sent up to a dining room of his own somewhere near the roof, 
 all the while protesting and demanding “ Nicht Raucher” for 
 the entire establishment. So, exit the Ecclesiastic, though 
 not in smoke. Wiih him, too, oddly enough, exit the Dominie, 
 whose companionship with the Governor went no farther than 
 that night; let us say, to the grief and bereavement of all in¬ 
 volved.) 
 
 It was a magnificent summer morning—that following the 
 arrival at Lindau ; and the Governor, however once more lone¬ 
 ly, managed to enjoy it to the full. The little harbor, seen by 
 daylight, had many charms hidden by the night. Two very 
 long piers stretching out into the Lake, formed it, one crowned 
 with a lighthouse, and the other with the lion of Bavaria. 
 Through the narrow passage between them, boats were com¬ 
 ing and going continually—a cross between the Rhine boats 
 and those afterwards known as the Italian and the Mediter¬ 
 ranean. All the centuries seemed rolled back, in the archi¬ 
 tecture of the narrow streets; and one very old building 
 especially, with a six-sided central sharp tower surrounded by 
 four other sharp towers, also six-sided, lower, and forming 
 hanging turrets around it, lingers in memory as the most 
 graceful relic of the old times in all Southern Germany. 
 Everybody took off their hats, during this stroll, with a polite¬ 
 ness evidencing the South ; everybody walked in the middle 
 of the streets—by far the smoothest line of progress, in many 
 instances; and the dogs were numerous and a trifle noisy but 
 by no means troublesome. Such, with very many old houses, 
 and not a few markedly picturesque, was Lindau—with an 
 enviable view, all the while, southward over this largest and 
 bluest of the Central European lakes, at two ranges of noble 
 mountains: to the left those of the Tyrol, and to the right 
 the Swiss Alps of Appenzel, some of the latter still covered 
 with snow, and the whole background of the Bodensee as 
 beautiful as the most active 'magination could have made it. 
 
174 
 
 O VEll HALF E UROPE. 
 
 The Governor left Lindau that morning, on the steamer Dis- 
 cordia, for Constance—wearing an overcoat for the first time 
 in many days ; indeed for the first time since disembarking 
 on the Rhine. A wonderful lake, this of Constance, with its 
 shores jointly owned by Baden, Bavaria, Wurtemburg, Switzer¬ 
 land, and_ the Austrian Tyrol ; and a wonderful sail over it, 
 that of this perfect day. Plenty of boats and not a few of 
 steamers, some with the horizontal black and red flag of Wur¬ 
 temburg, and others with the horizontal red and yellow of 
 Baden. A pretty little port showed at Fredericshafen, and 
 near it a neat modern palace, with tower, of the King of Wur¬ 
 temburg. A big ferryboat, the very pattern of one of the 
 American Brooklyn or Jersey City boats of that class, was 
 crossing from Fredericshafen to Remanshorn, bearing passen¬ 
 gers for the Swiss tour ; but the Governor’s boat was for Con¬ 
 stance, and rounding to the right of the small island of Meinan, 
 bearing a large palace of the Grand Duke of Baden, it set him 
 ashore as per schedule, the mountains coming nearer and 
 nearer, and, their glorious beauty new-flooding his soul in quite 
 a corresponding degree. 
 
 So many years ago as the Paris Exposition of 1S67, the trav¬ 
 eller had experienced a thrill of romance at Geneva, standing 
 above the tomb proudly announced as that of “Cardinal Jean 
 de Brognier, President of the Council of Constance and his 
 first visit in this oldest of old towns was to the scene of that 
 memorable religio-historical episode in the career of several 
 nations. Known in French as the “ Maison du Conseil,” and 
 in German as the “ Consileum Saal,” gravely stands this odd, 
 fine old building, in which that Council held its sessions from 
 1414 to 1418, deposing popes, threatening kings, and burning 
 John Huss and Jerome of Prague, besides doing many other 
 acts and things too tedious to mention. It is of stone and wood, 
 evidently much older than that Council ; has a sharp “ bat¬ 
 tered ” barrack roof with weathercock shafts at the ends of 
 the peak and no less than three rows of dormer windows ; 
 while the eaves have nearly the depth of those of the Swiss 
 chalets, and windows all around immediately beneath the 
 
CONSTANCE AND BHTNE-FALLS. 
 
 175 
 
 roof. The upper is not much more than a half story ; though 
 the great Council Chamber is there located, the great bulk of 
 the building is below. At one end, a penthouse hangs away 
 from the roof, forming a sort of portico—this also crowned 
 with a staff and weathercock. Taken all in all, and from with¬ 
 out, certainly this is the oddest old barn in which events 
 of importance ever had their origin ; and yet who would 
 change one stone or one board of it ? 
 
 Within, the hall of the Council Mouse is found to be very 
 long, with heavy wooden crossbeams and posts, bearing 
 arms at the junctions—all now lately painted and varnished. 
 At the ends are pictures of Pope Martin V. and John Huss ; 
 and there are many modern paintings, some of them very good 
 though none notable, and none capable of for one moment 
 withdrawing the attention from the memorable occupation of 
 1414-1418. In small rooms, above this, are effigies of John 
 Muss, Jerome of Prague, and the Dominican who “con¬ 
 futed ” Huss. Here, also, are the throne, with faded canopy 
 and tapestry, where sat the Emperor Sigismund, whose safe- 
 conduct could not §ave Huss—and the two chairs of Pope 
 Martin and the President; the outer door of Huss’prison, 
 very old, and of wood ; the horse-trappings of Charles the 
 Bold of Burgundy, worn on the fatal day of Nancy; two very 
 old long hide-shields ; a water-bottle from Jerusalem ; the first 
 Bible printed at Augsburg, 1480; the Bible used at the Coun¬ 
 cil ; a Roman sword, of wonderful breadth and weight, with 
 eagle hilt and head, &c. This whole collection ®has great 
 interest as well as undoubted authenticity, and might found 
 half a dozen of modern museums. To crown the interest of 
 the place, out of the window may be seen, on the shore of the 
 lake, the building that was Huss’ prison. (It was too hot at 
 the moment to visit it; and the Governor’s pocket was at the 
 same moment too light to buy the medallion made of clay 
 from the place of his burning.) 
 
 In an orchard, a mile from the town, is the spot where both 
 Huss and Jerome were burned, alike to the shame of the 
 German Empire and the Council of Constance. On it, at 
 
17G 
 
 O VER HALF E UR OPE. 
 
 this time, lies an immense stone, or boulder, said to have 
 come from the lake, though that seems doubtful. On one 
 side of it, in a levelled space, is cut, “ Hieronymus von Prag, 
 30 May—7 Juni, 1416;” and on the other, in a space similarly 
 levelled, “ Johannes Hus f O 14 July, 1415.” 
 
 The ride to the place of death of Huss and Jerome had 
 additionally other and more pleasant results, though not 
 more profitable. For it was continued far some miles away 
 toward the Swiss border, where, in the very old Church of 
 the Holy Cross, at Greuzlingen, is to be found the most won¬ 
 derful and bewildering collection of figures in bronze, on 
 earth—about one foot in height, and of rare merit as sculp¬ 
 tures, illustrating the whole life of Christ, from the manger to 
 the cross. They must be thousands in number, arranged in 
 the scenes and acts of the Divine career ; and the story is 
 easily believed, that they employed the whole life and ab¬ 
 sorbed the whole fortune of a man of large wealth and unde¬ 
 niable talent. And the ride did not stop even here ; for the 
 Governor and his kind chaperons went past the man on 
 guard, and over the boundary, into the Swiss canton Thurgau, 
 and away up the hills, for a glass of wine and a biscuit at a 
 Swiss chalet, and for some magnificent views of the Alps of 
 Appenzel, and of the Centis, their king and pride, lying dark 
 and frowning even under the sun of hot midsummer. 
 
 But there was more of the mediaeval and the religious in 
 Constance than the Council House—much more ; as lovers and 
 students of religious houses need not be told. Where else, 
 on all the broad earth, shall the parallel be found of Constance 
 Cathedral, in more than one regard ? Architecturally, there 
 are several finer. The spire is equally grand and elaborate; 
 but the effect is materially injured by the great height of the 
 square-towered front from which it rises ; nor can it be said 
 to be impressive as a whole, without. But (as may have been 
 already said elsewhere)—what would you ? This old pile dates 
 from the second century, giving odds to the Tower of London 
 of more than eight hundred years !—and it was the seat of an 
 archiepiscopal see from A. D. 507 to 1800. It is very large, 
 
CONSTANCE AND RH 1 NE-FALLS. 
 
 177 
 
 old, and cold-looking. Perhaps its most notable feature is a 
 circular shrine, of date A. D. 1000, copied from that of the 
 Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem ; and there is a vaulted passage, 
 alleged to be of nearly the same date, once leading from the 
 interior all the way to the Rhine, With these, and its age, 
 the interest ceases; but oh, how it commences again on the 
 opening of certain doors (with a key of silver) ! For, outside 
 of Rome, no religious house in the world can compare with 
 this Cathedral of Constance, in the multitude, splendor, un¬ 
 told cost and magnificence of the gold and silver altar-ser¬ 
 vices, furniture, vestments, and all that belongs to what may 
 be called the very luxury of worship. Brought out and named, 
 with the donors, one by one, and each more rare than the 
 others in costly metals and precious stones, the eyes of the 
 Governor (those mild orbs !) for once grew covetcus, and it 
 would not have been well for him to be left alone with those 
 richest belongings of any mere church on earth. It would 
 not have been well for him to be so left, and he was not: 
 very much to the contrary, he was evidently watched through¬ 
 out the whole exhibition, which is by no means ordinarily 
 made or made without strong inducement. 
 
 Enpassant, there is a large cannon ball in the Cathedral, 
 shot into the town by Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden, when 
 besieging it in the Thirty Years’ War ; and just south of the 
 town a cairn of stones shows where the battle was fo ught, 
 leaving that heavy and significant relic. And in the same 
 connection, that of antiquities, the old Stadt Haus has a row 
 of fine frescoes, all along the double crow-stepped front, 
 alleged to be from the pencil of Albert Durer, and literally 
 telling the whole history of Constance in shapes and colors. 
 The number of old houses, and of inscriptions on them, are 
 both legion, blending the habits of both the Swiss and the 
 Germans, between whom the town literally lies, seeming to 
 belong to both or neither. 
 
 Another splendid summer morning, and the Governor was 
 away, up the Rhine, by the steamer Neptun for Schaff.iausen 
 and the Rhine Falls. As he left, the bells of the old town 
 
178 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE., 
 
 seemed all to be pealing, calling every one to a new Council, 
 that should all the while be from four to five hundred years 
 old. More “ Rhine,” but how different from that already 
 noted ! A rapid and rushing stream, but lacking the breadth 
 of the true German Rhine so many leagues below. An hour 
 from Constance, and on some low, rough side hills, but with 
 handsome grounds surrounding them, gleamed out the yellow 
 range of pitched-roofed houses forming the Chateau of 
 Arenenberg, where Queen Hortense lived for many years, and 
 where her boy son Louis Napoleon, perhaps even then with 
 dreams of being Napoleon III., lived with her. It lies on 
 Swiss ground, and so has been free from foreign intervention, 
 at all times and for any member of that remarkable family. 
 To-day, except with an occasional and hasty visit from the 
 ex-Empress Eugenie, it is idle, like those who own it. 
 
 The banks of the river had deepened perceptibly, while 
 some of these reflections went on ; and directly the good 
 steamer Ncptun was at Schaffhausen, a very old Swiss town 
 that might have been of interest but for what la}' beyond. A 
 ’bus went rattling through the old town and away from it, 
 close along the river bank to Newhausen, and the Schweizer- 
 hof, which noble hotel stands on a high bank overlooking the 
 Falls, and adds immeasurably, both in location and the unex¬ 
 ceptionable manner of its keeping, to the pleasure of visiting 
 the Chute du Rhiu. 
 
 Perhaps, to Americans, the Falls of the Rhine are the most 
 easily described of all European falls, as they are certainly the 
 noblest. Reduce Niagara very materially, and wi*th certain 
 differences, the Rhine Falls will be the result. They are about 
 150 feet wide, with a pitch of 70 feet, and a high shrub-grown 
 rock dividing them nearly in the middle (after the manner of 
 Goat Island at Niagara), and another jutting out at the left 
 (face view). They form rather a deep rapid than a cascade, 
 the edge being very rough and irregular, and nearly the whole 
 sheet of water broken and white, like that of Giessbach. There 
 is a handsome stone bridge of nine arches, an hundred feet 
 above; below the Falls and around them the banks of the 
 
CONSTANCE AND RHINE-FALLS. 
 
 179 
 
 Rhine are rather broken and tree-grown than precipitous and 
 Niagara-ish. From the restaurant below, the fall seems much 
 nobler and more complete as a cascade; and from that point 
 the middle rock is seen to be double, with the left part of it 
 clear of the bank. The spray and thunder are reductions of 
 both at Niagara, and much greater than either at Trenton 
 Falls. The largest middle rock (Goat Island in little) has a 
 temple on it, canopied ; and there is a spot there, to which the 
 adventurous (some call them fools) are rowed off and climb. 
 Below the Falls is a ferry by small boats (again like Niagara); 
 and on the opposite side of the Rhine, to make a background 
 in the view, the old Chateau of Woerth rises, with a church 
 and many clustered buildings near it and lying as if under its 
 protection. 
 
 This of the Rhine Falls, certainly one of the finest in all 
 Europe, and in many regards the very finest. But something 
 more remains, and of great interest. Thanks to the enter¬ 
 prise of host Wegenstein, of the Schweizerhof, in the grounds 
 of that hotel there is a sort of dial by which the visitor can 
 accurately discover the direction and make out the identity of 
 nearly every mountain in Switzerland, including the giants of 
 the Bernese Oberland, and Mont Blanc himself, the latter 
 nearly one hundred and eighty miles distant, but all lying 
 plainly in distant view, in long irregular lines of snow-white 
 on the horizon. • Think of this panorama of the great Swiss 
 mountain ranges, to be enjoyed comfortably in the grounds of 
 a well kept hotel ; and then, while blessing the enterprise of 
 the hotel proprietor who could bring a professor from a scien 
 tific institution to arrange it, think what was the enjoyment of 
 the Governor, well fed, not yet bankrupt, gloriously alone, 
 resting himself after Munich and Constance, and leisurely 
 scanning the whole range of the Alps through the Dleasant 
 smoke-wreath of his inevitable cigar. 
 
 13 
 
I. 
 
 AN ALPINE DRIFT, WITHOUT SNOW. 
 
 The word “drift” is used advisedly, though such a mode of 
 crossing the Alps as “drifting” may not have been common 
 since the Deluge, at which time a considerable number of 
 persons probably went over the peaks in that manner. And 
 yet the Governor as truly drifted across the Splugen Pass, as 
 ever dismasted hulk went at the mercy of winds and waves 
 or a stray log floated away w T ith the tide. By the phrase, it is 
 merely meant to express the fact that he did not go where he 
 intended to go, that he went where he did not arrange to go, 
 and yet, without positive volition of his own, in the end found 
 the goal of his wishes, if not his first arrangement. There 
 may be a shade of amusement in some of the circumstances, 
 which are not manufactured for the occasion, but are in all 
 essentials the exact truth, however painful a one. 
 
 The Governor went into the old city of Zurich, in the north¬ 
 east of Switzerland, one day in the middle of July, from the 
 Falls of the Rhine, and Constance, and on his way to Basle, 
 where he had letters of importance awaiting him. From a 
 succession of peculiar circumstances he had been “ drifting” 
 about Central Europe, without anything having occurred 
 worth the trouble of a recital. So far as he knew, the drifting 
 was over. So far as he knew—yes, and no farther. 
 
 It was an understood fact that he was only going to remain 
 in Zurich for an hour or two—going on at once to Basle, the 
 desire to reach which place, after so many hindrances, had 
 now grown upon him to something like a man’s hunger for a 
 belated dinner. So at least he believed, as, oddly enough, on 
 arrival at the station he drifted away from the friends who 
 had brought him there, and found his way, light luggage 
 in hand, into the Hotel Bellevue, on the edge of the famed 
 and beautiful lake, 
 
 It was about twelve o’clock, when he entered the hotel with 
 that “ fixed determination ” already recorded. “ Have me 
 
AN ALPINE DRIFT. 
 
 181 
 
 some dinner ready at two, please ; and in the meantime I will 
 look around the town a little, and see the Lake ; as I am going 
 on to Basle by the three o’clock train,” he said to the good 
 looking man who received him, and who, as afterward discov¬ 
 ered, was the proprietor. He looked sharply at the valise ; 
 the Governor thought for the moment that he was measuring 
 it to see whether it was likely to pay for a good dinner ; but 
 it was afterward suspected that he in some way recognized 
 the name on it, and so marked the bearer as an easy victim. 
 Then he said, adopting the very formula that had several times 
 before rendered the victim helpless : “ No ! you are not going 
 to Basle at three o’clock : you are going riding with me, and 
 then you can go on to Basle to-morrow morning, if you must.” 
 
 The Governor felt another drift coming over him like a 
 dumb ague. “Oh, very well,” he said, “ if you have arranged 
 things in that manner, what am I to contradict you ?” So he 
 did not go by the three o’clock train ; and they went riding 
 around beautiful and wealthy Zurich, with its charming lake 
 (“ fair Zurich’s waters ” of the poets), its splendid views of the 
 great snow peaks, and of the wide baitle field, under the walls 
 of the city, where Massena defeated the Russians and Aus¬ 
 trians and drove them out. of Switzerland. Then they came 
 back, and the Governor ordered an early supper, so as to re¬ 
 tire early and be ready for the seven o’clock train in the morn¬ 
 ing. The seven o’clock train to Basle : how he had got to 
 longing for Basle, that he had so hated on his last visit, be¬ 
 cause it had a bridge with one end of stone and the other of 
 wood, and a cathedral in which ugliness had been made a 
 science. 
 
 He was just concluding his supper, with a view to that 
 early couch, when two Americans, a gentlemen and his wife, 
 came to the table. Some inquiries as to the past routes and 
 future intentions were made on both sides, and answered on 
 both. “ Going to bed, so early ! ” exclaimed both in a breath. 
 “Certainly not—the thing is impossible! You are going with 
 us to the Grand Concert at the Ton Halle, and then to bed 
 when you happen to get there.” “Oh, very well,” the Gov- 
 
182 
 
 O VER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 ernor said, shivering pleasantly under the compelling force of 
 one more “ drift,” “ if that is the case, I am so glad you have 
 told me ! If I am going to the Concert, of course to the Con¬ 
 cert I go.” Then they went to the Concert, and a glorious 
 one it was, with the music of Mendelssohn and Beethoven 
 wonderfully interpreted, at the hands of those perfect German 
 artists But of course it was midnight before they separated ; 
 and, equally of course, forgotten by the porter who was to 
 rouse him, the Governor woke at eight, for the seven o’clock 
 train, instead of six, as intended ; while his tempters, who had 
 no occasion to wake early, were no doubt sleeping the sleep 
 of the virtuou? and hearing Mendelssohn in their dreams. 
 However, if there was no seven o'clock train remaining, there 
 was one at nine ; and to reach that he hurriedly swallowed his 
 breakfast; for to Basle he must get now, and to his letters. 
 
 Twenty minutes to nine ; and he had his valise in hand, 
 going to the omnibus, for the train—and Basle. In the door¬ 
 way he met a stoutish English-looking man of little less than 
 his own indefinite age, with a leather satchel in his hand, lie 
 did not look like the mythological idea of a Fate: rather like 
 a well-to-do and companionable specimen of the middle-aged 
 John Bull, that he was. But he was the Governor’s Fate, 
 especially sent to start him on the most important “drift ” of 
 all. “ Going to Basle ?” he asked, with a sort of impression that 
 everybody must have letters at that place and be going after 
 them. “To Basle? Oh.no!” Taurus answered, without 
 rebuffing (wonder for an Englishman !) the unintroduced and 
 very Yankee address. “ No,” he continued, “ I am going on 
 to Coire, and supposed that you were going there too.” 
 
 To Coire !—good gracious !—the Governor shuddered at the 
 name, with a dreadful suspicion. “To Coire ! Pray for what? 
 Not to go to Italy, I hope ! ”—“ Yes,” he answered, with a calm¬ 
 ness which proved that he did not know the precipice on which 
 he was standing—“my son and I are going to Coire this 
 morning, and then over the Splugen Pass, to Milan.” “But, 
 good gracious,” the other said, “do you know what you are 
 doing? Italy is an oven, just now, where they bake their 
 bread on the sidewalks and boil their fish in the rivers; and 
 
AN ALPINE DRIFT. 
 
 183 
 
 then it is a perfect pest-house of disease, so that going will be 
 just equivalent to committing suicide.” “ Sorry to hear you say 
 so, because we are going, you know,” was his undaunted 
 reply. 
 
 And then he added, fixing the Governor with his blue eye, 
 after the manner of that wedding guest before often mentioned, 
 who button-holed Coleridge’s Ancient Mariner — “ And do 
 \ou know, I have an idea, from something in your face, that 
 you are going to Coire with us, even if you do not go any 
 farther.” “ Well,” the victim said, feeling his moral limbs 
 giving way under him,—“well, if you think so, I suppose that 
 it must be so, and that I had made a mistake in starting.” 
 “ En voiture , messieurs, pour le tram pour Coire!” at that mo¬ 
 ment rang out the summons of the omnibus conductor; and 
 a quarter of an hour later, with Taurus and his boy of sixteen, 
 whom we will call the Junior, the Governor was on board 
 the train, running out of Zurich in exactly the opposite 
 direction from Basle and his letters—but for Coire only, 
 remember; only for Coire. 
 
 As he was only going to Coire, and not across the Alps to 
 Italy, he naturally felt under all the more obligation to 
 observe and enjoy the glories of those few hours elapsing 
 between Zurich and his destination. And glories there were, 
 certainly; for if not going into the heart of the great range, 
 he was certainly entering the edge of that mighty succession 
 and group of mountains, granite-ribbed and snow-crowned, 
 which fill the Canton Schwytz, all the way from the Lake of 
 Lucerne to Zurich, dropping enough over the edge, into the 
 Canton Glarus, to make boasting-material for an ordinary 
 country. And they had never before looked so gloriously 
 grand, repelling and yet inviting, as that day of blended storm 
 and sunshine, when the dun clouds would roll down the sides 
 of the giants skirting the winding railway, hiding all view for 
 a few minutes, then lifting and rolling off, in the struggling 
 sunlight, until one peak after another would leap out into 
 view, each seeming more bold, more craggy, more desolate, 
 and yet more compellingly attractive to the eye than any that 
 had preceded it. 
 
O VER HALF-EUROPE. 
 
 184 
 
 Occasionally, as they wound in and out among the curving 
 ranges, the thought that Italy lay behind all this would occur 
 to the Governor, as well as the awful mountain-glories of 
 which these only formed the gateway ; and he almost wished 
 that he could go on and penetrate the heart of the great 
 mystery. But then, again, looking up to those cloud-piercing 
 granite heights, seeing the black frown that settled over them 
 at any moment when the sun withdrew its light, and marking 
 the altogether threatening and gloomy character of the 
 scenery, he would remember with a shudder of pleasure, that 
 he was not going any farther than Coire, and that while he 
 should be rolling comfortably back to Zurich, and so on to 
 Basle (where he must hurry, now, for those letters !), Johannes 
 Taurus and his son would be floundering miserably among 
 those gloomy and dangerous passes, of which the surround¬ 
 ing great peaks could be dimly seen in the far distance ; and 
 how much better off, all said, was the man ?iot bound for Italy 
 than the man who was! 
 
 Directly they broke out from the close highlands bordering 
 the rugged road, and came at once upon the upper end of the 
 Lake of Zurich proper, and the lower end of the upper lake— 
 at Rapperschwyl, to which point they could have come all the 
 way by steamer from Zurich had they been so minded. And 
 what a view they had, even from the confined windows of the 
 railway carriage, with the noon sun come out in its glory and 
 making a track of gold along the dark blue waters of the lake 
 at the right ; with steamers filled with tourists and excursion¬ 
 ists, plying hither and thither, landing and departing, and giv¬ 
 ing the whole scene the aspect of life, pleasure and variety; 
 with the great mountains coming down to the edge of the 
 water, almost in their very faces, and the Murtschenstock and 
 Frohnalpstock, giants among the giants, lifting their snow- 
 crowned heads behind, with the calm inaccessibility of all 
 things surpassingly grand and noble. 
 
 For the next half hour the run had this great mountain 
 range on the right, and the calmer beauty of hill-bordered 
 dark blue water on the left. For they were running along the 
 
AN ALPINE DRIF1. 
 
 185 
 
 very shore of the Upper Lake ; and the clearing sky enabled 
 the eve to take in the first hint of that feature afterwards des¬ 
 tined almost to satiate it, in the presence of ruined castle and 
 crumbling tower, each picturesque as if built for no other 
 purpose than to satisfy the sense ; on towering peak and ap¬ 
 parently inaccessible crag, where it seemed that it must have 
 needed quite as bold a man to build as to invade. Then, com¬ 
 ing out at the upper end of the Upper Lake, they entered on 
 the wide Linth Valley, and had first a wonderful view up into 
 the snow-encircled Valley of Glarus, and then a proof how 
 human will and might can combat the most formidable oppo¬ 
 sition of nature—in those grand water-works of massive granite 
 leading the Linth River into the Lake of Wallenstadt (seen 
 dark and blue, with its perpendicular precipices, here at the 
 left), the erection draining a broad extent of country that had 
 before been over-soaked and unfertile, preventing inundations 
 once periodically perilling the lives of half the people of the 
 valley, and reflecting such immortal honor on the great head 
 of the iron-founding house of Escher, at Zurich, who planned 
 and perfected the work, that for him and him alone the Re¬ 
 public broke through its stern rule of republican simplicity 
 and created a title of nobility by naming him Escher Von der 
 Linth. 
 
 It was at Sargans, after enjoyment of numerous tunnels, 
 some iron bridges, and every variety of blended lake-and- 
 •mountain scenery, that they came again upon that river which 
 seems to run through half Europe, and set more than half 
 Europe in recurring conflicts—entering the Valley of the 
 Rhine. Ah, then, the observer knew in a moment the 
 meaning of the old castles crowning the heights, and the 
 vineyards fighting for every foot of ground among the 
 rising rocks ; for, granted a bit of the Rhine and a strip of 
 high ground anywhere in the neighborhood, ruined castles and 
 vineyards follow as naturally as potatoes the track of the 
 Irishman, or sauer kraut and sausages that of the German. 
 
 If such a thing could be, as the roughenin^of the scenery 
 from what it had been, half an hour before, that change took 
 
186 
 
 O VER HA LF-E UROPE. 
 
 place as they left Sargans and made a momentary halt at Ra- 
 gatz, the wonderful cleft in the rocks, and fall, of which, they 
 did not have time to see, and must take it upon trust as what 
 they call it—one of the most wildly-grand features in all Swiss 
 scenery. Neither could they go to the Baths of Pfeiffers, 
 lying very near at the right; for though the. waters might have 
 done them more or less of good (probably less) had the Govern¬ 
 or not in view the immediate and hurried journey to Basle? 
 
 More old castles—some with histories dating back to the 
 Roman Empire; cascades innumerable, formed by the melt¬ 
 ing snows on the peaks, and tumbling white down the sides of 
 the mountains, wearing ravines and great gorges as they went ; 
 bridges in all the modes of construction known to a bridge¬ 
 building world, over gorges already worn, and defiles of all 
 the varieties of rugged depth and duskiness; then with a fer¬ 
 tile district opening about them as they rattled on, and yet 
 grand mountain-summits all around them, and the snowy peak 
 of Calanda overlooking the whole and giving aggregate gran¬ 
 deur to a thousand minor details. Such were the salient fea¬ 
 tures of that last half-hour of journey by rail, as they bade 
 adieu to the Canton Glarus and the little corner of the Canton 
 St. Gallen that they had been crossing, and came into the Can¬ 
 ton of the Grisons, one of the largest and most wildly moun¬ 
 tainous in all Switzerland—approaching that place which has 
 so many names, in the different languages, that no one knows 
 when it is spoken of, but best known to ordinary Alpine trav¬ 
 ellers as Coire, with an alternative of Chur. 
 
XXIII. 
 
 ASCENDING THE SPLUGEN PASS. 
 
 At Coire the Governor was to bid goodby to Taurus and 
 the Junior, circumstances being imperative and the call to 
 Basle not the least of them. But what odd things we do, 
 sometimes !—and how we trifle on the edge of precipices that 
 we have no intention of allowing ourselves to tumble down ! 
 For one of Cook’s Swiss Tourist Guides lay on the table of 
 the little reception-room at the Hotel Steinbock ; and not even 
 the recollection of the Governor’s position could prevent his 
 taking it up and reading those words so eminently dangerous to 
 a person in his situation—the following opinion of the Splugen 
 Pass, given by a lady of eminence, after having made several 
 of the great crossings of the Alps : “ I have crossed by the Mt. 
 Cenis Pass, the St. Gotthard, and the Simplon ; and though 
 each has its peculiar attractions, yet the Splugen Pass is 
 truly the most magnificent road over the Alps. No one can 
 go over this road, and enter into the spirit of it, without feel¬ 
 ing that the mind has been enlarged by the communion 
 with nature in her noble grandeur.” Fine reading this, for 
 a man debarred from going over the road—just on the point 
 of parting from those who were going over ! 
 
 Also rational and reasonable was that toying with the 
 tempter, in which he indulged while Taurus and his son were 
 looking after the luggage—which indulgence consisted in in¬ 
 specting the carriages standing around the door of the hotel, 
 with the Alpine grime still on their wheels and cushions, and 
 inquiring the price at which, if he had a fancy to go over, he 
 could hire a private carriage and thus escape the loaded and 
 lumbering diligence. Fortunately, thus far the danger did not 
 press very closely ; for the prices named by the station-master 
 were so abominable that his lean portemonnaie rattled at the 
 thought. “Ah, well ! ” he sighed, as he saw Taurus and the 
 Junior coming out ; “ah, well ! it is all right. I will dine, go 
 
188 
 
 O VER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 back to Zurich, and then to Basle ; and what a delightful time 
 i shall enjoy to-night, reading my letters ! ” So he took a 
 promenade with his new friends around the queer, uneven old 
 mountain village ; talked with them of the route they were 
 about to traverse ; remarked, with a sort of grim satisfaction, 
 that there seemed a promise of more rain, which would catch 
 them in the mountains ; then bade them goodby, and went 
 in to dinner and to prepare for the return train to Zurich, 
 and—Basle. What, except the incipient feeling of another and 
 final drift, could have induced him again to go into the booking- 
 office, to ask about the different routes to that ever-recurring 
 and never-reached Basle? But he did so, and inquired if there 
 was not some other way than that through Zurich, by which 
 he could proceed ? Yes ; there was another, a little longer, by 
 Olten. Ah ! then he would go by that, and have one more 
 glimpse of new scenery. “But,” remarked the station- 
 master, recognizing the Governor’s identity as the late in¬ 
 quirer, “were you not asking, a little while ago, about going 
 to Italy? ” He shamefacedly confessed that he had been, but 
 that he had now made up his mind not to go. “ Ah ! then it 
 is of no consequence,” said the master ; “ but if you had 
 wished to go, the conveyance would be much cheaper now, as 
 two or three carriages are just in from C'olico, and as they 
 may possibly be obliged to return with light fares, some of the 
 vetturini might be bargained with at an advantage." 
 
 The Governor felt a cold shiver seizing him, as in the presence 
 of some imminent danger. He stole a glance at the man’s 
 feet, to see if he had hoofs or any pedal mark of the Tempter, 
 but only saw a heavily-booted foot. Then he listened to hear 
 how deep a thunder that was, echoing from warning after 
 warning against Italy at that season—as well as the smaller 
 voice, much nearer bis heart, calling him to Basle and his let¬ 
 ters. And then, having resisted temptation quite as long as 
 could be expected of a poor fellow who was drifting, he said : 
 “ Send me your vetturino, and let me price him.” Those words 
 sealed his doom ; for in a moment more he was in conference 
 with a dark-faced and dark-bearded, good-looking and evi- 
 
UP THE SPLUGEN. 
 
 189 
 
 dently good-humored man of a little over fifty, inspiring con¬ 
 fidence as one to be trusted and depended upon. He spoke 
 no English, but very good Italian-French,—had a good trap, 
 and a solid-looking pair of French horses. In ten minutes 
 more the Governor had struck up a bargain with him, on be¬ 
 half of Taurus, the Junior and himself, for conveyance that 
 day to Thusis; the next day to Splugen and over the Splugen 
 Pass to Chiavenna, at the Italian foot ofthe mountains ; and the 
 third day to Colico, end of the route, on Lake Como. Then, 
 when the thing was accomplished, his companions notified, 
 and all the arrangements made for leaving in three hours for 
 the route—then the thunders of warning and the whispers of 
 affection ceased altogether, for the time, in the certainty that 
 he was indeed and irrevocably drifting over the Alps, by way 
 of the Splugen. 
 
 They left Coire at 4:30 that afternoon, in the strong, low, 
 open carriage, with top ready for throwing up at an) r moment, 
 and drawn by two horses that looked like slow but steady go¬ 
 ing. What they had of heavy baggage was in the boot behind ; 
 the lighter and most frequently wanted bags were on the front 
 seat; while Taurus and the Governor occupied the back one, 
 and the Junior sat beside the driver, so that no one rode back¬ 
 ward. And here let it be said that no wheel arrangement for 
 crossing the Alps can be better than that just indicated—the 
 carriage of that kind; the luggage so arranged ; the number 
 of passengers not beyond three, or at the most four; the dri¬ 
 ver, one who understands and speaks some one language that 
 can be understood and spoken by at least some one of the 
 passengers (most of them speak Italian, many French, but 
 scarcely any English, on this route), and the whole arrange¬ 
 ment under the charge of as clever and capable an old fellow 
 as held the reins on that occasion. 
 
 And what a wonderful land was that, even to ejms which, like 
 the Governor’s, had known the White Alps somewhat closely 
 —what a wonderful land, into which they were rolling away, 
 as they left mountain-girdled Coire that afternoon, with the 
 storm quite ceased and the sun touching even the baldest 
 
190 
 
 O VER JIALF-E UROPE. 
 
 and roughest peaks with his glory ! A wonderful land, in¬ 
 deed ; for the Canton of the Grisons is literally all high 
 mountains, and their narrow intersecting valleys, the former 
 being almost innumerable and the latter said to number more 
 than one hundred and fifty. Not many snow-peaks, on this 
 portion of the route ; but awful cragg}^ heights lifting them¬ 
 selves apparently to the very skies, with sloping “alps” of 
 green pasture here and there, running far upward toward the 
 tops, specked with the climbing goats or the adventurous 
 cattle, and dotted with the little chalets, with overhanging 
 eaves and the traditional scattering of heavy stones on their 
 roofs, to keep either the shingles or the chalets themselves 
 (no one can quite decide which) from blowing away in winter. 
 Between the mountains, narrow vales of the most luxuriant 
 fertility, the vine and the potato most common, and the maize 
 of the American cornfield a frequent feature, seen scarcely' 
 anywhere else in Europe as in Switzerland, the Tyrol and 
 Italy. 
 
 The Governor had felt the necessity, leaving Coire, of 
 throwing himself a little on the mercy of Taurus, in advance— 
 advising him that his nervous system was not in the best of 
 order, so that he must expect and pardon certain shiverings 
 and shrinkings that would be inevitable; as also that he could 
 not walk well just then, and would undoubtedly suffer from 
 fatigue in the event of any exertion being necessary—in which 
 case Taurus must also bear with him. And Taurus had kindly 
 assured the Governor of his disposition not to laugh at him 
 except under the most extreme provocation, and his benevo¬ 
 lent resolve not to leave the disabled to perish miserably in the 
 mountains, except through the direst necessity. These as¬ 
 surances, from the man who seemed to be as strong as his 
 prototype, and to have no tremors whatever, yvere a great 
 comfort—apart from the resource of a bottle of Ileidsieck 
 that had been stowed ayvay in a spot convenient of access, to 
 be used for raising the spirits in great emergencies-—which 
 bottle of Ileidsieck, by the yvay, grew impatient of being shut 
 away from the outer air and scenery, went off of its own 
 
UP THE SPLUGEX. 
 
 191 
 
 accord, and half-filled Taurus’ satchel, to the deprivation of 
 both and the serious moistening of the owner’s papers. 
 Moral: In carrying champagne over the Alps, don't carry it 
 in a bottle, if there is room to put it anywhere else ! 
 
 But what a fool the Governor felt himself to have been, in 
 making such a confession of weakness, as they bowled along 
 by Ems (a straggling little village, very different from the old 
 gambling place of the same name, in Germany), and by 
 Reichenau, where they were in too much of a hurry to reach 
 Thusis for an early supper and bed, to pause for a glance at 
 the old chateau of that name, where Louis Philippe hid him¬ 
 self away under the humble name of Chabot, in the dark days 
 of the first French Reign of Terror. What a fool he felt him¬ 
 self to have been ! What was there, in crossing the Alps, to 
 make any one shudder ? What was there to- 
 
 Powers of might!—What was that ahead at the moment ? 
 There is an old axiom : “ Never crow until you are out of the 
 woods!” and we may add to it : “Never brag until you are 
 through the Alps !’’ Once more, what was that ahead? Why, 
 they were simply driving to destruction, to annihilation— 
 nothing more nor less ! They were on the side of a mountain 
 that had been gradual in its slope, but which had been sharp¬ 
 ening in descent without their noticing the fact; and now, all 
 at once, what had only been a valley below, became an awful 
 narrow gorge, hundreds of feet down, with the road drawing 
 nearer and nearer to the edge, and a view, ahead, of a point 
 that must be passed on the left, if they were to go on, falling 
 away perhaps eight hundred to a thousand feet below, and 
 rising two or three times that distance sheer above at the 
 other side of that mere sheep-track or shelf that seemed just 
 wide enough for the wheeling of a railway wheelbarrow ! 
 
 The Governor was just clutching the arm of Taurus, when 
 he felt him clutching his. There was a community of feelinrr— 
 in plain words, a mutual fright: that was evident; and proba¬ 
 bly 1 he fact was not displeasing, so far as it went. “Good 
 Lord, old man ! ” the Governor said—“ do you see what we 
 have to pass ? ” “ See it! I wish that I did not see it quite 
 
192 
 
 O YEP, IIA LF E FRO PE. 
 
 so well ! ” was his reassuring response. They looked at the 
 vetturino, who was calmly driving ahead, and at the Junior, 
 who sat beside him, appararently both unconscious of any¬ 
 thing extraordinary ; and there was really something calming 
 to the two "old fools,” in the unconsciousness of the young 
 fool, who did not know what apparent peril meant, and the 
 habituated driver, to whom an Alpine precipice meant no more 
 than a yard-arm means to a sailor at sea. 
 
 At all events, the thought struck both that it would not be 
 precisely the thing to tell the driver to stop and turnback; 
 though the Governor wished himself for the moment—say at 
 Basle—reading his letters ! At last, as the point was approach¬ 
 ing nearer and nearer, the shelf (apparently)growing narrower 
 and narrower, and when they were both ready to jump out of 
 their seats in nervous tremor—the Governor hit upon what 
 he thought about the best course under the circumstances. 
 “ See here, Taurus,” he whispered, hoarsely, “ it is all right, I 
 suppose, because the driver must know his road, and people 
 pass along here every day ; the looks of the thing are all the 
 trouble. Let us shut our eyes, and think of something else !" 
 “ Well so we will,” answered his companion, between what 
 seemed to be teeth already shut. 
 
 They must at that moment have come nearly to the point 
 they were to round, and.were on a flat shelf of road, thrice 
 the width of the carriage, hewn into the solid crag, with a line 
 of low posts and a flimsy little low wooden rail at the edge, 
 and that awful, narrow, perpendicular gulf yawning below. 
 They shut their eyes, as per agreement, and so went round 
 that point; but neither of them kept the other part of the 
 compact and “ thought of something else.” Think of some¬ 
 thing else !—when a wheel might come off, when a horse 
 might shy, when a rein or a bit of harness might give way ; 
 and in either case, such a flying leap into eternity would be 
 taken, as curdles the blood a little to think of, even at a 
 distance. Laughable now, of course, but it was not laughable 
 then. For that first moment it was horrible; there is no other 
 word descriptive of the situation ; to a nervous, unaccustomed 
 and imaginative person—simply horrible / 
 
UP THE SPLUGEN. 
 
 193 
 
 It has been necessary to dwell a little at length upon this 
 point, because the experience was the first of its kind, though, 
 as before suggested, it proved to be nothing beside some 
 others occurring later ; and because, at one time as well as 
 another, the attempt must be made to convey some impres¬ 
 sion of the single feature which makes whatever of fear or 
 anxiety there is connected with an Alpine crossing. All those 
 who have been at all among high mountains know that they 
 are ascended or descended, not by goingup or down in straight 
 lines of ascent or descent, but by creeping round their curves 
 in one direction or the other. Now, as the Alps are won- 
 drously high, with fearfully deep ravines between—and as they 
 are almost all of solid rock, making excavation difficult and 
 costl} r , and obliging the builders to make the roads as narrow 
 as can allow two vehicles to pass abreast—this threatening 
 feature may be easily understood, without remembering the 
 pictures that have made our blood chill, sometimes, in galler¬ 
 ies or in magazines. 
 
 Here a road of ten or twelve feet wide, with a line of posts 
 far apart, and a single fragile rail at the edge; above, perhaps 
 overhanging, solid rock beetling away to the sky ; below, and 
 with a dreadfully fascinating power to make one look down — 
 gorge, ravine, gulf, sheer precipice, or what you will, in depth 
 one hundred, three hundred, five hundred, a thousand feet, 
 with a bed of broken rocks or a white brawling stream at the 
 bottom, to add to the suggestiveness of the whole arrange¬ 
 ment. Perhaps all this, below, naked, bare, awfully visible ; 
 perhaps with just enough of trees at various points to break 
 the view, confuse the calculation, and add immeasurably to 
 the impression of that tremendous descent. 
 
 Well, when they opened their eyes, they were safely round 
 the point, with—thank all the fates !—no more of the same 
 sort immediately to follow. They were descending slightly, 
 now—going down into another Valley ofithe Rhine , and that of 
 the Nolla opening into it, with the picturesque scattered 
 houses and spires of the large village of Thusis in full view ■ 
 rising behind it, the awful cliffs and peaks marking the entrance 
 
194 : 
 
 O VER HALF E UEOPE. 
 
 to the Via Mala ; great mountains, many of them snow-capped 
 or snow-striped, bounding the far view on every hand ; and on 
 the tops of what seemed inaccessible nearer and lower peaks, 
 where no foot but that of the mountaineer could by any possi¬ 
 bility have climbed—houses ; churches, with their white spires 
 pointing still higher; ruined towers in profusion; and the 
 remains of one old castle, dimly seen against the sky, said to 
 be the oldest in Switzerland, and to have an undoubted 
 antiquity of two thousand years. 
 
 More extensive views may often be caught in mountain- 
 lands, but few more remarkable ones than that over Thusis 
 and the entrance to the Via Mala, with that tall arched bridge 
 over the Nolla, and those ruined and unruincd buildings 
 perched at heights where they could be of no possible use 
 except to mountaineers, gymnasts and squirrels. 
 
 Thusis was the goal of that day’s pilgrimage; and the 
 Governor, who should have slept at Basle, slept in a hotel with 
 an ominous name (the Via Mala—“ bad way ”), but with all 
 the comforts and half the elegances of a palace, where he had 
 expected to find at the best a mere cabin. Such hotels are 
 the effects of extended and increasing travel through the 
 Alps—much of it, and of course the best paying of it, being 
 American. 
 
 Taurus and the Governor took a little walk that evening, 
 over the Bridge of the Nolla, and up the commencement of 
 the Via Mala, which was to be traversed in the morning ; and 
 then they held a short conference on the bridge, quite as 
 decisive in its results, if not so important, as the old historical 
 meeting on the Bridge of Montereau. They knew the mean¬ 
 ing of the Italian name, “ Via Mala,” already given—“ bad 
 road or way”—and its reputation as one of the worst passages 
 in the Alps ; they had caught a little glimpse of it, as a 
 sample ; and each was not only slightly frightened, but knew 
 that the other was so, and that the other knew that he was so ! 
 Yet, after the manner of the diplomats, they went round the 
 fact, if they did not falsify it. “ Taurus,” the Governor said, 
 “ don’t you think it unhealthy to ride so much—always sitting. 
 
nr TH E S PLVOEN. 
 
 196 
 
 you know—especially in the morning?” “Yes, I think that 
 1 should like to walk instead of riding—say early to-morrow, 
 just as a matter of health,” was the reply. “ Taurus,” con¬ 
 tinued the Governor, “ suppose that we should get up very 
 early in the morning, get our coffee, and start on foot, say at 
 five, leaving the carriage and the boy to follow at six, so that 
 
 we-” “ Can get our legs stretched before the carriage 
 
 comes up,” he interrupted, perhaps to keep his companion 
 from adding what might have concluded the sentence —“so 
 that we can get over the worst before the carriage overtakes us." 
 Probably they both slept better than they might have done, 
 when that arrangement had been made. And certain it is that 
 they were up at four, had their coffee at half-past, and were 
 on their way up the Via Mala at a little past five, very 
 much obliged by that brief piece of advice which they had 
 found in the Guide Book : “ Tourists, who wish to catch all the 
 best points of scenery, are advised, whenever practicable, to walk 
 through the Via Mala." Ah ! that was the explanation, after 
 all—they were going to walk, instead of riding, so as to catch 
 the views to better advantage ! 
 
 JOHANNES TAURUS. 
 
 14 
 
IXISIIIX- 
 
 THE VIA MALA AND THE SPLUGNERBERG. 
 
 The Via Mala, as they saw it that clear, fine morning of 
 July—who shall describe it, or give any idea of its character? 
 Says one of the Guide-Books : “ It is a remarkable fissure, five 
 miles long, a few feet wide, fifteen hundred feet high, formed 
 by a natural convulsion, as is obvious from the sides sharply 
 corresponding;” and it adds that:—“the carriage road, per¬ 
 fectly protected by a parapet, is hewn out of a rock on one 
 side, from two hundred to five hundred feet above the thin 
 Rhine, which moans away below.” About the perfect protec¬ 
 tion of the parapet there may be two opinions : it is very well 
 for people on foot; but lor those in a carriage, or especially for 
 those perched on the high outer seat of a diligence, we may 
 borrow one of the cant phrases of the day, and say that it 
 seems to be “ too thin ”! Butof the rest of the quotation there 
 cannot be any question. It is undoubtedly the most wonder¬ 
 ful of mountain clefts in the solid rock—wonderful in height, 
 in length, in wildness reaching the verge of the terrible. Take 
 the idea of the Flume at the Franconia Notch of the White 
 Mountains, retain the character, and multiply it, sajr by ten 
 thousand, and then some idea of the rift of the Via Mala may 
 be formed. Then, and afterward, in the awfully wild scenery 
 of all this region, one idea seemed haunting the spectator, as 
 he looked up at the dark beetling rocks that seemed limitless 
 in their height, interminable in their extent, and indescribable 
 in their mass, and wild, terrible broken roughness: that an 
 angry God, wishing for once to show to scoffers 11 is ascend¬ 
 ancy over matter, had taken all the primal elements of a world 
 and hurled them, in frightful and yet attractive confusion, to 
 be wondered over and shuddered at by the crawling worms 
 who call themselves men, but never removed in the slightest 
 particle or particular, till the same Almighty Hand shall 
 change their position once more,—perhaps melt them as metal 
 
VIA MALA AND SPLUONERBERO. 
 
 197 
 
 in the whelming flame of the Last Day ! To a thinking mind, 
 disbelievers and ail irreverent people should keep away from 
 the Via Mala: it might have a tendency to disturb them , and 
 that should be avoided. 
 
 And yet, perhaps, we are all irreverent, as well as often ridic¬ 
 ulous—even in the most solemn of places. For the Gov¬ 
 ernor can laugh at himself, now, and could probably have 
 laughed had he only seen himself with distant eyes, then— 
 noting the figure that both Taurus and he may have cut that 
 morning, even in the midst of their continued raptures over 
 the scenery. As when they were literally crawling (though 
 not on all fours) round some of the sharpest points, and 
 especially round that awful one at the Lost Gulf, where the 
 confusion of elements is so great that no man has ever yet 
 been able to find the river or the place where it runs (whence 
 the name)—crawling round these points, not only avoiding 
 the edge of the road, except in certain moments of peeping 
 over, but even hugging the wall as if the way was not quite 
 wide enough. Or when they actually balanced themselves, in 
 the apprehension of toppling, before making the plunge 
 across the great Premiere Pont, or First Bridge, in the middle 
 of the pass, on the top of which, taking into comparison its 
 size, with the depth of the gorge to the river at the bottom, 
 on either side, a carriage and horses, of which they fortu¬ 
 nately saw a specimen passing over, look as if'they constituted 
 one of those six-inch toy conveyances that little people of 
 three years old drag around the floor by a string! 
 
 Before the carriage overtook them, they were well through 
 the Via Mala, after a communion with the grand and the 
 terrible in nature, not often found in any line of travel, 
 in any land, and for which they were largely indebted, oil 
 that occasion, to being on foot. They had passed through 
 Zillis, with its crumbling towers on the heights above, where 
 they made the first intimate acquaintance with hungry dogs 
 and the Italian-Swiss habit of painting the outsides of half 
 the houses with bright-colored devotional pictures of the 
 Madonna and the Saints ;—they had passed this, and were 
 
198 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 well on their way to Andcer, when the carriage came laboring 
 up, with a third horse on the lead and a horse-boy hanging 
 behind. It was only then that they realized how sharp must 
 have been their six and a half miles of walk up from Thusis, 
 in two and a quarter hours—and recognized the power of eye 
 and brain to take away the feeling of fatigue from the limbs. 
 The carriage overtook them at 7:30 ; and they rolled through 
 the very old town of Andeer, with many of the features of 
 Zillis : some half-asleep dirty people who seemed gazing out 
 in wonder that they did not stop at the dreadful-looking 
 apology for a hotel, for breakfast; and a few dogs who were 
 evidently vexed at not being able to reach their heels. 
 
 It was not far beyond Andeer that they entered upon a sec¬ 
 ond or smaller edition of the Via Mala, called the Gorge of 
 Rofla (or Rofna), with a wonderful series of white and roar¬ 
 ing cascades of the Rhine, awful cliffs shutting it in like a box, 
 and some duplication of the shuddering experience of the pre¬ 
 vious evening, on narrow shelves over frightful precipices— 
 the experience only less marked, now, because they had 
 passed over something so much worse and began to get a 
 little used to the inevitable. It was when they were at about 
 the middle of this pass, that a crash and rumble of loud 
 thunder broke on their ears, and Taurus remarked that the 
 clouds must be quite behind the mountains, as none were vis¬ 
 ible in the clear sky. The Governor for a moment forgot 
 where he was, and had an impression that he was hearing the 
 rumbling of the railway cars passing through the Mt. Cenis 
 Tunnel, or the explosions made by the grimy workmen whom 
 he knew to be at work boring through that great rival tunnel 
 which is to undermine the St. Gotthard and half annihilate the 
 Alps. This only for the moment, however, as the remem¬ 
 brance of distances and directions came back very speedily. 
 “ That is not thunder,” said the vetturino , in answer to a ques¬ 
 tion. “ That is only a stone, or perhaps a body of stones, with 
 some snow—what you call an avalanche—rolling down the 
 side of one of the mountains.” “Where?” “Where! who 
 can say ! ” and the gray man shrugged his shoulders as only an 
 
VIA MALA AND SPL UGNERBEBG. 
 
 199 
 
 Italian can do. “It may be here, there or anywhere; but be 
 sure of one thing—it is behind us, and so it is of no conse¬ 
 quence.” “ And how large may it probably have been, to 
 make that sound?” “ How large ? That is still more difficult 
 to say. If a stone, perhaps no bigger than yourself, or one of 
 the horses; if with snow, who can tell how large?—it might 
 fill half this valley.” They were quite satisfied, then, in sev¬ 
 eral particulars: glad to have heard it, as a sensation ; glad 
 that it was, as the vetturino remarked, behind them, and 
 neither before them nor on the top of them ! 
 
 But this brought them through the pass, and out into mag¬ 
 nificent views of the snow-peaks, with the great snow-fields 
 of the Einshorn seeming almost as broad and spotless as 
 those of Mont Blanc ; and a little beyond, the whole splendid 
 mountain-girdled panorama of the Rheinwaldthal (wooded 
 valley of the Upper or Hinter Rhine) burst into view, with 
 every conceivable feature of the Alpine landscape in full 
 prominence, and Splugen lying immediately before them, 
 scattered but picturesque-looking, and decidedly welcome, 
 because it was to bring breakfast. 
 
 “Well,” the Governor said to Taurus, as they rolled up to 
 the Hotel Bodenhaus, “ I fancy that we have passed the worst, 
 now, as well as probably seen the best ; and what a glorious 
 morning it has been ! ” “ Yes, we have no doubt seen the 
 
 worst, now ; and crossing the Alps is not the most difficult 
 thing in the world to do, after all ! ” gleefully assented Taurus t 
 as they alighted and went in to that deferred meal. “ Passed 
 the worst,” had they ? and “ seen the best ? ” As to both 
 those points, probably Taurus and the Governor were better 
 instructed before nightfall! 
 
 It seemed a dreadfully long wait at Splugen, while they 
 breakfasted, and then while the voiturier fed and groomed his 
 horses—so anxious were they, now that the worst was over, to 
 get on, and down to Italy. It was past noon when they rattled 
 away from the diligences in the inn-yard, some of them on 
 their way to Coire, some to follow over the Splugnerberg, 
 and others to take the other road, branching away farther 
 
O VER HALF E UROPE. 
 
 200 
 
 westward at this point, over the Bernardino Pass, to Bellin- 
 zona. But they were off at last, through the long gallery 
 over the Rhine, with a view, at no great distance, of a roar¬ 
 ing, rushing, cascade pouring down over wild black rocks, 
 forming the head-waters or source of that ubiquitous river. 
 
 And then they began to do, in earnest, what they had before 
 been trifling with—ascending: going up, up, until it seemed 
 that they must be leaving the earth. No precipices now—the 
 ascent on the sloping side of the great mountain of the Splug- 
 nerburg, up to the snow-top of which it craned the neck no 
 little to look, even at the height then attained ; while, as 
 they rose higher and higher, and the view broadened on every 
 hand, half the snow-mountains in Switzerland seemed break¬ 
 ing into view. Up, and up, by zig-zags, the nature of which 
 mode of ascent must be conveyed by the name, as a line of 
 road continually doubling back upon itself, each time rising 
 higher than the other, and the other portions seeming end¬ 
 lessly below and hopelessly above. Up and up—sometimes 
 through woods, breaking the view and at the same time 
 making that section of the way less lonely and desolate. 
 
 Then the woods failed entirely : they were above what they 
 call in the West “ timber-line,” and would soon be above vege¬ 
 tation. Splugen was out of sight; half the despised lower 
 world was far below their feet ; and still they were going 
 higher—out of the range of all they had ever loved, thought 
 or known. And then the atmosphere began to record their 
 height, without the aid of either of the “ ’ometers.” The air 
 became at once so rarefied that the lungs did not know when 
 they were full, and so cold that the great snow-banks, now 
 in near view and only a little above, appeared to be shooting 
 icy darts into them, as some of us have known the icebergs to 
 do at sea. The good vetturino drew out from some concealed 
 Diace a thick winter overcoat, put it on, and then, seeing his 
 companions shivering in their thin wrappers, a burden the 
 day before, and a burden again the next day—threw them, 
 very welcomely, what horse-blankets he could spare from him¬ 
 self and the Junior. 
 
VIA MALA AND SPL UONERBERO. 
 
 201 
 
 “This is getting fearful, you know—abominable! We are 
 certainly going out of the world, into a frozen chaos!” chat¬ 
 tered Taurus, at one point, when they were rapidly approach¬ 
 ing the snow line. Then—strange effect of mentality on the 
 physical—though they were ascending those zig-zags on a 
 gradual slope, with no appearance whatever of danger, and 
 where rolling over would scarcely have been more serious than 
 on an ordinary turnpike, the very height in the air so affected 
 him that he declared his inability to look down at the side of 
 the road, and shrank shivering into his seat with shut eyes. 
 
 Up, and up, and up ! The sun shone clear, and shone hot, 
 no doubt; but it might as well have been a candle, for any 
 impartation of warmth ; and the wind, that had been gradually 
 rising for the previous hour, blew a gale which added at once 
 to the cold and the impression of being swept away. At last 
 the snow line ! Beside them, up to the very road, lay the 
 great banks of snow, three or four feet deep at the edge, and 
 sweeping up in swales of untold depth to the summit, piercing 
 the blue air a quarter of a mile away ; while the great ice 
 mountains of the range, the Schneehorn and Surettahorn, 
 more distant, rose yet thousands of feet higher. They called 
 to the driver to stop, and in a moment both Taurus and the 
 Governor were out of the carriage, rushing for the snow. 
 Here was something earthly and familiar, thank heaven for 
 that! Snow-balling, like an adjournment, is always in order, 
 especially when the material can be found in July ; and they 
 went at it with a will ; while the vetturino thoughtfully cooled 
 the water in their bottle with the snow, and the Junior struck 
 for the summit on foot, across the zig-zags and snow-banks 
 (in which adventure, by the way, he got lost in the ravines, 
 floundered in the snow, caused his anxious father some fear 
 for his life, and came out at last, very much blown, not much 
 higher than he started.) 
 
 But Taurus and the Governor pelted each other, England 
 and America, probably in remembrance of old conflicts by sea 
 and land,—until the voiturier nearly laughed off his coat, at 
 
202 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 about which time England came to grief from a ball striking 
 him in the dexter eye, and America from one lodged in the 
 starboard ear. 
 
 To carriage, again, then, materially warmed, though the air 
 was icy cold in the near approach to the summit. Here on 
 the left, a broad, low stone building came into view at a little 
 distance from the roadside—the cantonniere, or House of 
 Refuge for those caught in sudden snow-storms—in a cor¬ 
 responding one of which, at the top of the Stelvio Pass, by 
 the way, a couple of English friends found occasion for 
 shelter from a violent snow-storm that very day, on their 
 way from Innspruck. Out of the windows of this looked two 
 or three idle faces ; and by the door—not wanted now, but 
 likely to be before many weeks should go over, lay stretched 
 one of those great St. Bernard dogs, in size and appearance a 
 cross between the Newfoundland and the Siberian blood¬ 
 hound, with which the Governor had made acquaintance years 
 before among the White Alps, and found them by no means 
 too good-tempered with people not buried in the snow, how¬ 
 ever they might drag out and rescue those who were ! 
 
 A moment later, and they were at the top of the Splugen 
 Pass, though by no means at the top of the Splugnerberg, 
 the great peak of which still soared thousands of feet above, 
 endless in snowfields. Before them, as the carriage pulled up 
 at the middle of the small level, stood two posts of granite, 
 the one square, with beveled top—on the front the words : 
 “ Confine, 1S65 ” ; and on the two sides, “ Svizzera” (Switzer¬ 
 land) and “ Italia.” The other looked like an ordinary flat 
 erect tomb-stone, and bore the inscription: “Metre 2117— 
 Sulla Livella Della Mara,” announcing the height of the pass 
 —some 7,000 feet. 
 
 They were at the top of the pass, and the top of the Alps, 
 so far as this journey was concerned. Thenceforth—down¬ 
 ward ! 
 
zxzszrv, 
 
 DOWN TO THE ITALIAN LAKES. 
 
 To carriage again, after a little ceremony between Taurus 
 and the Governor, at the summit of the Splugen Pass, welcom¬ 
 ing each other to Italy after the manner of the old discoverers, 
 who took formal possession of the newly-found lands to 
 which they had no right; and then downward with what 
 seemed a very moderate descent strengthening the idea that 
 the “ worst was over." Half a mile of this slight descent, to 
 the Dogana, or Custom House of the Italian side, where the 
 examination of even the small luggage carried brought hints 
 of expective emolument, easy to be understood, but equally 
 easy to be satisfied (as a small amount of money goes for a 
 great deal in the South of Europe). And then on again, still 
 with very moderate descent and increasing reassurance to the 
 nervous, for perhaps two or three miles, when turning a 
 corner- 
 
 It would be miserable affectation to say that the breath 
 fails, now, at the thought of that special moment ; and yet it 
 is no affectation to say that the parties have had many a hun¬ 
 dred of shudders over it, since—by daylight, when something 
 recalled it, or at midnight in dreams. Striking, even frightful, as 
 had been the experience of the previous day, what had it been 
 to this ! For in that instant opened to them that awful “ Gulf 
 of the Cardinell,” the very name of which, given by the 
 Italians (“ Golfa ”), is sufficient to suggest its character ; while 
 to the thought, as the driver called attention to that name, 
 came the recollection that this was the horrible pass down 
 which the French General Brune hurled his troops in Decem¬ 
 ber, 1800, whole batallions dropping away, man by man or in 
 squads, into the yawning death beneath, and the screams 
 and appealing drum-beats from below coming up to those 
 who survived, with a distinctness long giving the place a 
 haunted reputation. 
 
20 i 
 
 O VER IIALF-EUROPE. 
 
 No attempt must be expected to describe the Pass of the 
 Cardinell, as they saw it then and during the next hour ; there 
 is no language at command capable of conveying one thou¬ 
 sandth part of the actual impression when on the spot. There 
 really seemed no bottom to the gorge, which is actually some 
 1,500 to 2,000 feet sheer down from the road; and so nearly 
 perpendicular on that side that the white Fall of the Made- 
 simo, a little farther on, leaps nearly one thousand feet without 
 touching. At the far bottom, in the middle, the silver thread 
 of the little Cardinell river looking like a bent knitting-needle ; 
 around it some houses, seeming just large enough to have 
 been those toy structures with which babies build villages on 
 the nursery carpet; and these even tinged with blue by the 
 tremendous intervening distance. 
 
 Beyond, on the other side of the gorge, the mountains of 
 Italy rising and swelling far ahead in what would have been 
 endless miles of beauty if seen under calmer circumstances— 
 luxuriant with chesnut and olive groves, vineyards and waving 
 cornfields. But what was all that distant view to them, who 
 had matter of interest so much nearer?—to them, who hung 
 in mid air on that narrow road, on that mere notch in the per¬ 
 pendicular cliff, as sailors hang on main-trucks, or birds’ nests 
 on tree-tops, or as aeronauts look down over the edges of their 
 rising balloons ! 
 
 Perhaps it need scarcely be said that they did not ride over 
 this Pass; though one fancies hearing the quiet laughter of 
 some of those, even of the softer sex, who have done so, 
 wondering what on earth there was to be nervous about! 
 That they suddenly found their legs cramped again, ordered 
 the vetturino to drive slowly and wait for them at certain 
 points ; and then started for a short walk of a few miles, in the 
 blazing, beating afternoon sun falling on the side of the 
 mountain and quite repairing the chill of the late ascent. 
 The Junior, who was at once too unconcerned and too lazy 
 not to keep his place on the box, no doubt suspected the 
 reason of their promenade, and despised them accordingly; 
 
TO THE ITALIAN LAKES 
 
 205 
 
 but not so the gray vetturino, who knew the Pass too well to 
 wonder at any effect that it could produce on unaccustomed 
 human nerves. 
 
 They got on, exceedingly well, on foot, keeping close, most 
 of the time, to the inner side of the splendid road, and only 
 occasionally meddling with the outer edge for a moment¬ 
 ary peep, from which they generally went back, with alacrity, 
 until they could touch the back wall. Once, when there was 
 a placard announcing that the best view of the Fall of the 
 Madesimo could be obtained by going out on a railed platform 
 —they tried it: not with distinguished success. For though 
 the broad white fall leaping a thousand feet into the air, and 
 into yet whiter spray, was glorious beyond description, the 
 eye would take too much cognizance of the gulf below, for 
 entire comfort. And once they made an excursion into a hay- 
 field, among the sbort-pet'dcoated female hay-makers and their 
 few male asssistants, in “ crossing lots ” to cut off the carriage ; 
 but they found themselves apparently sliding down the sharp 
 slope into the Gulf itself, and so abandoned the trespass, 
 not because it was unlawful but unprofitable. 
 
 The effort has before been made to explain, in a few words, 
 the meaning of the “ zig-zag " as applied to these mountain 
 roads. The descent of theCardinell Pass, though necessarily 
 involving the zig-zag, adds to it that other feature, the “ gal¬ 
 lery ”—a portion of the road covered and vaulted with stone 
 and wood, sometimes extending hundreds of feet over what 
 are believed to be the worst points for snow-slides : a long one, 
 omitted in mention, having been passed through, on the other 
 side of the mountain, just before reaching the summit; and 
 three of them, in this descent, being among the longest in the 
 Alps, 750, 700 and 1,600 feet. And the zig-zags themselves, 
 here, are very different from those on the side-slope of a 
 gradual mountain. They are literally and exactly so many 
 diagonal notches cut into the side of an upright post, the ends 
 intersecting as they turn, and the traveller continually look¬ 
 ing up to see the road above him that he has just traversed or 
 down to see that to which he is coming, perpendicularly below. 
 
20(3 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 What must be the rate of descent of this gorge, may De in¬ 
 ferred from the fact that not less than 3,000 feet are descended, 
 on the side of that single mountain bulwark, by one zig-zag 
 precisely under another, without the progress forward being 
 more than an hundred or two of yards. Again and again and 
 again they looked up, that da3', to see one passed line of road 
 above them, then two, then three, and so on until the layers 
 one above another must have reached nearly or quite a score. 
 And what, then, must have been the height over the gulf 
 below, of the road upon which they first came out before 
 commencing the sharp descent? And what must have been 
 the irreverence of the wretch who could goto the verge, look 
 calmly down, and propound the lately current query : “IIow 
 is this for high ? ” 
 
 They were virtually at the bottom, at last, having performed 
 about seven miles walking in this second essay, when they 
 rejoined the carriage, not to leave it again until the end of 
 that day’s journey. They were on the sunny' side of the 
 mountains now, amid the broad chesnuts, the olive groves and 
 vineyards; amid yet fearfully rough and broken countiy, true, 
 and with the splendid stone-posted road (far better engineered 
 on the Italian side than on the Swiss) running frequently along 
 embankments and precipices that at some other time would 
 have seemed tremendous. But an hundred or two feet were 
 nothing now, after thousands; and they were in the midst of 
 Italian scenery ; Italian frescoed and inscriptioned houses, yel¬ 
 low and sun-baked ; Italian chapels, sometimes with open- 
 grated doors showing rows of skulls grinning pleasantl\ r 
 within ; Italian girls, dark eyed, abundantly dark haired, well 
 formed, barefoot, comely and dirty; Italian priests, shovel- 
 hatted, oily-faced, shoe-buckled, and going about in droves; 
 Italian beggars, piteous in their looks, and more piteous in 
 their pleading whines ; Italian air, balmy and pleasant, even 
 in its July heat; and Italian gad-flies covering the poor horses 
 with blood and biting through clothes to the bone. So they 
 bowled along, still downward to the sweet fields and meadows 
 bounding Campo Dolcino with the beautiful name ; and then 
 
TO THE ITALIAN LAKES. 
 
 207 
 
 they were at gray, dirty, characteristic Chiavenna for the 
 night, to go on to Colico, on Lake Como, in an hour or two of 
 the next morning; and they had “drifted” across the Alps to 
 Italy. 
 
 Taurus, whom the Governor last saw at Milan, trying to 
 find a decent glass of Italian beer (which he called “ bc-ah ”)— 
 Taurus, if any reader should meet him, would never own to 
 so much as has here been acknowledged, of the nervous 
 sensations of that ride, or admit that he was at all instru¬ 
 mental in carrying the Governor over. But he would say, 
 without a question, that the two days of crossing were among 
 the most notable in memory, and that he would like to repeat 
 their experience, with pleasant friends, more than once, before 
 he ceases earthly travelling and goes on his last journey. 
 
 They went on, as already noted (necessarily before that last 
 meeting), from Chiavenna to Colico, on Lake Como, on the 
 day following their arrival at the former place—to find, at 
 Colico, that for once romance and poetry had not overstated 
 the glorious beauty of the little watery gem of North Italy, 
 lying embowered in mountains and embroidered at the edges 
 with groves so sweet as to deserve all that Rogers and his 
 brother poets have said of them. To find, also (very plea¬ 
 santly), that at Colico a hatfull of fine fruit costs about an 
 English sixpence, or ten cents American, while a small cart 
 may be loaded for an American dollar in gold. But it was on 
 the way to Colico, and when as yet the price of fruit had not 
 entered into their mercanto-gastronomic souls, that they met 
 with a little adventure which the Englishman would be slow 
 to recount in any circle of his home companions, but which 
 the Governor does not intend to conceal, for various reasons 
 not necessary to be noted. They met and fell in love with a 
 Nymph of the Fountain, probably never yet embalmed in 
 song. That is, the Governor fell in love with her; and 
 Taurus would have done so, but for the fact that any such 
 proceeding must have been “ un-English.” At one of those 
 common but picturesque old fountains spouting water into a 
 stone trough from a queer sculptured mouth, which may be 
 
208 
 
 O VER HA LF-E UROPE. 
 
 met with so often in Southern Europe, and this one standing 
 not far from the edge of the first of the Italian lake-chain, 
 Lago de Riva,—there they met this female incarnation of all 
 the Latin races, and experienced those sensations proper for 
 each under such circumstances. 
 
 The morning was hot, and they drew up at the fountain for 
 a drink. It was only when the carriage halted immediately 
 in front of the spout, that the two travellers became aware of 
 the presence of a woman, and a basket of clothes which she 
 was engaged in washing in the broad basin of the fountain. 
 She may have been of any age between eighteen and twenty- 
 five ; and she was dark-skinned, red-lipped, plump-formed, 
 wavy-haired, and (as Taurus said) deusedly handsome. She 
 looked cupid's darts from under her long lashes. Taurus 
 frowned, then relaxed into a smile of admiration. The Gov¬ 
 ernor smiled from the first. Any extended conversation was 
 rendered, to say the least, inconvenient, from the fact that all 
 English existed on the one side and all Italian on the other. 
 So the cyprian duel was confined to what Milton calls “ nods 
 and becks and wreathed smiles.” 
 
 “ By Jove !” exclaimed Taurus, speaking low, so that the 
 Junior would not be likely to hear him, “ if that girl was not 
 a washerwoman, she would be actually lovely.” 
 
 “ By Bacchus !" said the Governor, perhaps the more easily 
 pleased of the two, “ she is lovely, whether washerwoman or 
 empress.” 
 
 “ Faugh !” answered Taurus, “what romance can there be, 
 connected with a dabbler in washing-troughs and a wringer of 
 foul stockings !” 
 
 “ Just as much, if one only took the pains to extract it, in 
 the washerwoman as the empress,” responded the Governor, 
 
 “ I should like to sec some one try it, then !” said Taurus, 
 with something approaching to a sneer. 
 
 “ And I shouldn't mind being the one you set at the job,” 
 responded the Governor, with a laugh. “ Stop—now that I 
 think of it, and as we cannot court her conveniently in any 
 other way, suppose that we do it in rhyme." 
 
TO THE ITALIAN LAKES. 
 
 209 
 
 “ You may, if you like ! / never scribble !" loftily said 
 
 Taurus, thus putting the scribbler out of the pale of society 
 at once. 
 
 “ By George, I will!" replied the Governor, with a certain 
 amiable fierceness, his notebook and pencil coming out of his 
 pocket at the same moment. And he kept his word—after a 
 sort. As the carriage rolled away from the fountain, and they 
 caught the last glimpse of the dusky nymph who graced it, 
 he had the notebook on his knee and was scribbling away. 
 And this is what he afterward showed to Taurus—causing that 
 person to grin with some one of two or three emotions— 
 under the title of 
 
 LOVELY SOAPSUDS ; OR, THE LAVANDIERE OF LAGO 
 DI RIVA. 
 
 Oh, lavandiere, pretty lavandiere! 
 
 Washing clothes at the Lago di Riva’s fountain, 
 
 And making me lose, with your face so fair, 
 
 The mem’ry of Alpine glen and mountain ; 
 
 No Egeria you, by the fountain's brim, 
 
 But something to buy her, over and over— 
 
 One who would not fly, but wait for him, 
 
 Her rash and romantic and doting lover. 
 
 Oh, lavandiere, lovely lavendiere ! 
 
 How I bless that person, thoughtfully human, 
 
 Who gave you a name so sweetly rare, 
 
 And kept me from calling you “washerwoman!” 
 
 For to one I can bow with devotion true, 
 
 While the other conveys wet rags of lmen ; 
 
 And it wouldn’t do—no, it wouldn't do, 
 
 For love in the kitchen to make a beginnin'. 
 
 Oh, lavandiere, charming lavandiere ! 
 
 You can talk no English, I no Italian ; 
 
 So we neither will ever end this affair, 
 
 As we might if you understood this rallyin'. 
 
 But you wring my heart, as you wring that shirt ; 
 
 And a suicide’s might be my demeanor, 
 
 Thus cooling love’s thirst and healing love’s hurt, 
 
 If that fountain was somewhat deeper and cleaner ! 
 
LITTLE COMO AND LARGER MAGGIORE. 
 
 The Governor reached the Lake of Como, as already known, 
 at Colico, from Chiavenna, at the Italian end of the Splugen 
 route proper. It has otherwise been detailed, how sharply the 
 flies bit, along the way from Chiavenna to Colico, by Lago di 
 Riva, and how a nymph of the fountain, engaged in lavatory 
 pursuits, captured the heart of the impressible traveller and 
 drove him to the contemplation (luckily very far off) of a damp 
 suicide. Need it be said that the person of that temperament 
 came to the Italian lakes in a very susceptible condition— 
 ready to fall under any influence attractively presented, and 
 to go mad over any place known to have been embalmed 
 habitually in poetry and romance. 
 
 Such advantages has Lago di Como, beyond a question. 
 One comes to it generally fresh from the wild passes of the 
 Alps, when renewed softened scenes and softening influences 
 seem very welcome, and finds it literally lying under the brows 
 of the great mountains, to some extent realizing the descrip¬ 
 tion given in a few words of the Lake of Geneva—of the 
 parent mountains guarding their child : 
 
 “ On one hand the mother, tender-eyed, 
 
 On the other the father, high in pride, 
 
 O’er their blue-eyed darling stooping.” 
 
 Buhver, in the “ Lady of Lyons,” touched very prettily on 
 some of the peculiarities of any one of the North Italian lakes, 
 but his language has been held to be more peculiarly applica¬ 
 ble to Como than any of the others. At the risk of offending 
 Ihe digestion of some one already crammed with that once- 
 overpraised and now underrated play, a few of the lines most 
 obviously referring to it may be quoted ; though, of course, 
 they refer much more especially to the, abode which Claude 
 Melnotte wished that he had, and to some of the other sur- 
 
COMO AND MAGGIORE. 
 
 211 
 
 roundings, than to the lake itself. The lines have very 
 markedly the atmosphere of the region, and that must suffice. 
 Says the enamored swain: 
 
 “ In a deep vale 
 
 Shut in by Alpine hills from the rude world, 
 
 Near a clear lake, margined by fruits of gold 
 And whispering myrtles, glassing softest skies, 
 
 As cloudless, save with rare and roseate shadows. 
 
 As I would have thy fate. * * * 
 
 A palace lifting to eternal summer 
 Its marble walls, from out a tropic grove 
 Whose every bough was musical with birds 
 That in their songs should syllable thy name. 
 
 * * * And when night came, we’d sit 
 
 Beneath the breathless heavens, and think what star 
 Should be our home when love becomes immortal.” 
 
 Surely the hand that wrote this must have been guided by 
 intimate knowledge of scenery and surroundings like those 
 of Como, if not of it. But Tasso, shaping that glorious “Je¬ 
 rusalem Delivered ” which the present age seems to have 
 nearly forgotten, perhaps more nearly breathed the very feel¬ 
 ing and sentiment of the region, in the environments of 
 Armida’s Palace. In the Wiffen translation, that poem reads : 
 
 -“When at length the steep acclivity 
 
 Is scaled, and passed the snows and breezes keen, 
 
 Beneath the sunshine of a summer sky 
 
 They found an even, smooth and spacious green. 
 
 Here in a clime delightfully serene. 
 
 His wings the everlasting zephyr shakes, 
 
 And breathes a ceaseless sweetness o’er the scene. * * 
 
 -Heaven, than whitest crystal e’en more clear, 
 
 Nursing to fields their herbs, to herbs their flowers, 
 
 To flowers their smell, to leaves th’ immortal trees. 
 
 Here, by its lake, the splendid palace towers 
 
 On marble columns rich with golden frieze.” * * 
 
 ‘ This is the haven of the world ; here Rest 
 
 Dwells with Composure, and that perfect bliss 
 Which in the Golden Age found men possessed 
 In liberty and love unknown to this. * * 
 
 The joyful bii'ds sing sweet in the green bowers ; 
 
 Murmur the winds, and in their fall and rise 
 Strike from the fruits, leaves, fountains, brooks and flowers, 
 
 A thousand strange celestial harmonies.” 
 
 15 
 
212 
 
 OVER HALF-EUROPE. 
 
 All this is no description : no one can be better aware of the,, 
 fact than the writer-copyist. But, indefinably, it is full of the 
 feeling of the region ; and in reading it one cannot but be 
 impressed with the belief that the poet had in his mind this 
 marvellous little region, equally uniting and dividing the 
 rough glories of Switzerland and the soft beauties of Italy, 
 But perhaps we have had enough of poetry, and may well 
 descend to the descriptively prosaic, however hopeless the 
 task involved. 
 
 In those prosaic words, then, Como is a lake of some thirty- 
 six miles in length, by an average of only three in width. It 
 is one of an actual group, of which the members are Como, 
 Lecco, Lugano and Maggiore, with a fifth, the very little 
 Varese, and the infinitesimal Pusiano, Annon, Coniabbio, &c., 
 apparently thrown in for what the farmers Call “ tally.” Como 
 and Lecco are really one, the main body of the former com¬ 
 mencing at the north, at near Como, extending almost directly 
 southward to Belaggio, where it divides, the main branch curv¬ 
 ing westward, being still Como, and the minor, curving east¬ 
 ward, becoming Lecco. Lugano lies a few miles to the west¬ 
 ward, very near the point of Como’s forking; and Maggiore 
 runs nearly northward and southward, a few miles still farther 
 westward, from above the upper end of Como, some distance 
 below the lower. There are no absolute mountains very near 
 to Como, though a wide range of the Swiss giants are in full 
 view from all the upper part of it; but for three-fourths 
 of its distance it is surrounded by hills, sloping upward from 
 the almost always blue water, green at every point, wooded in 
 many places, and with exquisite shrubbery almost continuous. 
 There is literally no language to describe the appearance of 
 some of the swelling banks, of which the verdure is so soft 
 and fine as to make them appear perfect rolls of green velvet, 
 while the thought at times suggests itself of snow wreaths 
 colored vivid emerald, with the sparkle of the crystals yet 
 remaining; and, in this semi-tropical atmosphere, it goes 
 without saying, that the foliage of tree and shrub appeal to 
 the eye with equal luxuriance and softness. Meanwhile, and 
 
COMO AND MAOOTORE. 
 
 213 
 
 to complete the picture,-—Tor centuries wealth and taste have 
 been gemming the banks, above and below, with abodes of 
 beauty and luxury, very much less than the average of ugli¬ 
 ness coming in occasionally to temper the whole. 
 
 Probably the loveliest point on the whole lake is Belaggio, 
 at the divergence of Lecco, the little town having literally a 
 sharp cape on which to nestle, with water on both sides. 
 Menaggio, on the western side, a little above the separation of 
 the two lakes, is also beautifully situated, as well as the point 
 of departure, by omnibuses, the short drive to Porlezzo on 
 Lake Lugano. Como, lying near the extreme upper end (on 
 the route to or from Milan), is a pretty town and has a cathe¬ 
 dral of great size and splendor. Cadenabbia lies on the west 
 shore of the main lake, only a little above Belaggio, and is 
 also pleasant and popular as a residence. Between all these 
 main points, and many others, steamers ply several times a 
 day, with the advantage that nearly all summer long the 
 weather is fine and the water calm ; and omnibus and railway 
 connection is easy to and from Milan, Lago Maggiore, and 
 many other places of interest. 
 
 Out-door life in the summer is even more universal along 
 the banks of Como than in all the cities from Paris south¬ 
 ward. Everybody seems to be out-of-doors, and to be liter¬ 
 ally living there. At Como, especially, rows of covered 
 booths and tents stud the edges of the stream, with figures in 
 all the colors of the south appealing to the passing eye, as 
 they flit hither and thither; and washerwomen, many of 
 them with the picturesque striped flat headdresses lying over 
 the head and drooping behind, make the scene doubly lively 
 with their motions and the white gleam of the clothes they 
 are washing or spreading in rows on the green velvet. Add 
 to this, the boats of the lake, which are black, very much 
 curved, and flaring, with the sails a sort of square lateen, 
 some cross or bar of black always relieving the white canvas 
 at near the yard, and with the boatmen often Greek-capped 
 in colors, and nearly every boat filled (especially at late after¬ 
 noon and evening) with those who seem to have nothing else 
 
214 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 to do than to seek lazy or mad enjoyment. So much said, 
 though probably little or nothing may have been conveyed ; 
 all the story of Como has been told, as the Governor’s eyes 
 saw it once and again, and as he imbibed the atmosphere of 
 the region, its idleness included. There are at various points 
 along the lake the evidences of royalties and nobilities, who 
 flee hither at intervals to escape the noise and bother of 
 courts ; but the Governor does not own any villa on Como, 
 and so he indignantly declines to name any one of them ! 
 
 Milan may be reached from Como by Camerlata and an 
 omnibus ; and thence there is rail to Arona, on Lago Maggiore ; 
 or, diligence may be taken direct from Como (town) to Lav- 
 erno on Maggiore, with some thirty miles of ride worth the 
 taking. The Governor went to Maggiore by the first-named 
 route, from Milan, and thus accidently enjoyed the temporary 
 company of the Major and the Doctor, members of an English 
 line regiment, who were making for the Alps by the Simplon 
 road that afternoon. 
 
 Much lower-banked than Como, and somewhat larger 
 (forty-five miles in length by about three in breadth), Lago 
 Maggiore has many features in common with its smaller sister. 
 There is no view from any one point of Como comparable 
 with that which the Governor reyelled in for an hour from 
 near Somma, of the Monte Rosa range and the monarch 
 mountain itself, snow-crowned, dark-ravined, near in great dis¬ 
 tance, and altogether overwhelmingly grand and commanding. 
 And there is a double row of lime-trees shading an esplanade 
 just without the town of Arona, supplying the very finest 
 promenade, at the very edge of the blue water, to be found in 
 all Italy,—with the boats of Maggiore very like those of 
 Como, only more numerous, larger (possibly a trifle more un¬ 
 cleanly) and all of them awninged with striped cloth against 
 the sun which seems to be much hotter on the larger lake than 
 the smaller. A splendid promenade, truly, with every sense 
 fed and delighted. Then there is also a view from Arona and 
 its neighborhood, of the colossal bronze statue of San Carlo 
 Borromeo, standing on a hill at a little distance and impress- 
 
COMO AND MAOGTORE. 
 
 215 
 
 ively stretching out in blessing the arm belonging to a height 
 of sixty feet—still no more commanding than the memory of 
 the truly good man, priest and prince in one, whom it com¬ 
 memorates. 
 
 The virtual foot of the lake had been crossed at Sesto Cal- 
 ende, on the way from Milan ; and Arona and the other points 
 just named lie also very near the southern end, with Angera, 
 another town of importance on the eastern side, nearly oppo¬ 
 site Arona on the left. Ascending northward from Arona, the 
 shores of the lake are seen (as already said) to be much lower 
 than those of Como ; and they are less beautiful as an average 
 line. Both sides are studded with towns, not many of them 
 of interest, though all favorite resorts for loungers. The halt 
 of importance, and the one made by the Governor and his 
 friends, was at little Stresa, on the left, one-third of the way 
 up, and opposite the islands that have acquired such celebrity 
 Across a wide bay putting in at the left, was Pallanza, one of 
 the most important towns on the lake ; behind it rising Intra, 
 and behind that, mountains worthy of the name, though only 
 far-off spurs of the great chain stretching away northwest¬ 
 ward. 
 
 In front of them and of the town, however, were the special 
 objects for which they had left the steamer from Arona at 
 Stresa. The Borromean Islands—Isoli Bella Pescatori, Madre 
 and San Giovanna—possibly others ; only these were the ones 
 taken in by the delighted eye. There was but one to be vis¬ 
 ited—Isola Bella, considered, world over, the most lovely of all 
 islands, and so named as “ Beautiful Island.” From Stresa, 
 Isola Bella lay nearest and nearly direct; Isola Madre farther 
 ahead and to the right; Isola Pescatori partially hidden be¬ 
 hind Isola Bella ; and behind them the mountains already 
 named. But farther to the left, the more distant mountains 
 arose, snow-crowned ; and there seemed to be a view up them 
 to Dorno d’Orsola, and so into the pass of the Simplon. 
 
 A shabby old and not very cleanly black flaring boat, a 
 cross between a skiff and a canoe, took off the party to Isola 
 Bella. It had bow tops, like those of a farmer’s wagon, but 
 
216 
 
 0 VER IIA LF-E TJR OPE. 
 
 the awning had been forgotten or was being washed, so that 
 the voyagers had the full benefit of a sun inclining toward 
 noon—hot, yet indefinably pleasant. And then they were 
 ashore at Isola Bella, in a blazing heat that was not pleasant, 
 the coolness of the lake water wanting. But it was not far to 
 the well managed Hotel del Delfino (Dauphin), kept on 
 grounds leased for that purpose by Prince Borromeo, owner of 
 the island,—and to a lunch, there, in which the Doctor and 
 the Major, old Alpine climbers, who were going on that after¬ 
 noon up the Simplon road, ate so many omelettes aitx sucre (to 
 the deprivation of the abstemious Governor) that there seemed 
 small probability of their ever being able to climb again 
 during their natural lives—and in which they drank so much 
 of the pleasant light Italian wines, that each might have set 
 up in business as a huge bottle. 
 
 Then to the Palace of Prince Borromeo, on the south end 
 of the little island, and through the cool, picture-hung and 
 mosaic-paved halls of that fine old residence, cordially shown, 
 as became the descendant of good Saint Charles. Some of the 
 pictures and statuary were very fine; and the quarterings of 
 arms of a family dating back very nearly to Attila, were some¬ 
 thing bewildering in the multiplicity of papal crowns, balls, 
 bees, lions, eagles, &c., borne on the different shields so plenti¬ 
 fully hung amid the other treasures. But how cool and breezy 
 were those halls, even in the heat; and how truly the island 
 seemed to deserve its name, gazed out upon from those ter¬ 
 races fashioned by the hands of skill for the luxury of taste 
 and liberality ! Prince Borromeo, however often changed and 
 renewed, is splendidly quartered on Isola Bella; and long 
 may the descendants of a noble race keep the inheritance ! 
 
 There is nothing outside the tropics to compare with the 
 gardens of this Palace, where the visitors walked through 
 groves that might have belonged to Cuba or Brazil—where 
 there were growing, all around them, oleanders, lemon trees, 
 bamboos, banana palms, tea, coffee and camphor trees, each 
 with the fruit appropriate to it ripening in the kindly Italian 
 sun,—and where the harmless little lizards of the veritable 
 
COMO AND MAOOIORE. 
 
 217 
 
 tropics were gliding in and out through the trees, the shrub¬ 
 bery, and the multitude of marble and stone statues making 
 such white and brown glory among the greenery. Yes, as 
 already said, Prince Borromeo is nobly lodged : he is more 
 than nobly gardened, as only wealth and liberality can hope 
 to be in this costly and exigeant world. 
 
 But the hour of parting, of sudden friends as well as from 
 the glories of the spot, came all too soon. One more bottle 
 of the Asti Spumenti, at the Hotel Delfino ; yea, two—and then 
 the Doctor and the Major were crossing the lake to Pallanza, 
 for their run toward the Simplon; and the Governor was 
 going back in his dirty black boat, studying the scenery of 
 the noble and beautiful lake lovingly all the while, and won¬ 
 dering when he might ever again have the privilege of dip 
 ping his hot hand in the lapping blue-green water,—going 
 back to Stresa, and to the good steamer Lucmagno, for Milan 
 and cities adjacent. 
 
FOUR MARVELS OF MILAN. 
 
 The city of Milan is really one of the handsomest in Europe, 
 alike from its location, the freshness of its construction, and 
 some peculiarities which put it at advantage by merely adding 
 to the aggregate amount of charm. It is perhaps all the bet¬ 
 ter in appearance to day, from the fact that the Emperor Fred¬ 
 eric Barbarossa, carrying on his little dispute with the Pope, 
 which eventually cost him crown and life in a useless crusade, 
 literally destroyed it—wiped it off from the face of the penin¬ 
 sula. Rebuildings are profitable to appearance, even if costly 
 as amusements ; and there cannot be a doubt that many an 
 old corner which, without that clearing away in 1162, would 
 have to-day the musty odor of the times of the Caesars, really 
 enjoys sunlight and appeals pleasantly to all the senses. There 
 is an “ old town,” of course, with narrow and winding 
 streets, intersected and surrounded by canals, and with quite 
 enough ot the picturesque quality and odor of antiquity ; but 
 there is a “new town ” as well ; and that new town has much 
 of the lightness and grace of Munich, while the North Italian 
 air gives it incomparable advantages in aspect over the capital 
 of Bavaria, as well as many of the more southerly cities of 
 Italy. 
 
 The city has had, in the past ages, what may be called a 
 “ lively time,” politically ; and possibly its changes from the 
 dominion of one to that of another inajr have produced some¬ 
 thing of the effect of intermarriage in races—strengthened and 
 freshened it. Cremona, Brescia, Bergamo and Mantua, each 
 infinitely smaller than Barbarossa’s victim, united in rebuild¬ 
 ing it when he left it a ruin. Then the Sforzas, who came 
 themselves from nothing and took their name from the “force” 
 they displayed in helping themselves to place and power, fol¬ 
 lowed as rulers the ducal Viscontis, and totally eclipsed them 
 in the splendor of their personal surroundings and of the city 
 which they ruled. Then, through the Austrian connection, it 
 
MILAN MARVELS. 
 
 219 
 
 fell for a time into the hands of the Spaniards, so often and 
 long predominant in various parts of Italy ; then into those 
 of Austria itself. It became the capital of the Cisalpine Re¬ 
 public at the close of the last century, when the French 
 Republicans, and Napoleon after, ^vere arranging affairs gener¬ 
 ally at their will. Then, for a time it was the capital of the 
 Kingdom of Italy, falling back, after 1815, into the hands of the 
 Austrians, who finally, in 1859, surrendered it into those of 
 Victor Emmanuel, the Re Galantuomo, and to incorporation as 
 a part of United Italy. 
 
 All this, merely to show that the “ Milano ” of the sweet- 
 tongued Italian has passed through enough of changes to 
 indicate stability at the last, and that possibly its physical 
 appearance is all the more pleasing for the very misfortunes 
 through which it has passed—because those misfortunes nec¬ 
 essarily brought changes, and change is always better than 
 stagnation, however romantic. The title of this brief paper 
 promises four marvels ; and they will be found as unlike each 
 other as possible. 
 
 Marvel the First.—The Duomo, or Cathedral. This is re¬ 
 garded by the Milanese as the “ eighth wonder of the world ” 
 (whatever that may mean in the present century of wonders) ; 
 and the Governor is disposed to join them, or to go beyond 
 them, in pronouncing it the very finest religious house on earth. 
 So it ought to be, possibly, with the five hundred years of its 
 progress from a wondrous thought to a more wondrous real¬ 
 ity—and with the one hundred and forty million dollars already 
 said to have been expended on it, in a country where materials 
 and labor are both so cheap as in Italy. One hundred and forty 
 millions of dollars !—think of the sum, considerable even in a 
 land where county court houses and suspension bridges over 
 rivers are erected at outlays which the courts consider “ re¬ 
 gardless of expense.” 
 
 “ Figures, or if not figures, then words, Governor, for the 
 statement that the Duomo of Milan is the finest religious 
 house on earth !” There are no figures, and there may be dif¬ 
 ficulty in even finding words. To what does the simple state- 
 
220 
 
 OVER IIA LF-E UR OPE. 
 
 ment amount: that it is some 500 feet in length (477 feet with¬ 
 in), with a breadth of 186 feet, a dome of 214 feet, the extreme 
 height of the tower 300 feet, and the nave height 158 feet? 
 And what more is conveyed by the additional fact that, with 
 the exception of St. Peter^ at Rome and the Cathedral at 
 Seville, it is the largest church in Europe? What if Heinrich 
 Arler, of Gmund (Gemund) commenced it in 1386 ; and most 
 of it was finished before the close of the fifteenth century ; and 
 Napoleon set the artisans at work on it once more in 1805, to 
 go on to the crack of doom in all probability, if they are never 
 to stop until its possibilities are exhausted? All these may 
 be true, and yet Milan Cathedral may remain a deformity. 
 
 Ah, there are a few figures, at last, worth the considering. 
 Say that the structure has ninety-eight Gothic turrets (really 
 pinnacles); that every finial has a white marble statue instead 
 of a point—the number reaching to nearly five thousand, all 
 of life-size or colossal—say this, and for the first time an im¬ 
 pression is conveyed—an impression faint and far-off, and 
 nothing more. 
 
 To what can it be compared ? Absolutely to nothing else 
 ever built by the hand of man. Its lightness and its white¬ 
 ness might suggest the soap-bubble, blown from the pipe of a 
 Titan and not ) r et fallen away ; but soap-bubbles do not thrust 
 up spires into the air, and the Duomo of Milan literally “ does 
 nothing else.” By daylight it is simply a wonderful mass of 
 creamy white marble spires and pinnacles, elaborately sculp¬ 
 tured and statue-crowned, thrust up into the atmosphere with 
 almost the closeness of the blades in a cornfield, while owning 
 the most severe law of architecture by the outer ones being 
 always lower than and subordinated to the inner, so that the 
 immense centre height is naturally and gradually reached and 
 no thought of flatness is possible. Perhaps, of all the emana¬ 
 tions of nature, the idea is most forcibly conveyed by it, of the 
 most wonderful body of stalagmites, of some cave of the giants, 
 having been suddenly uncovered by the removal of the roof, 
 so that they thrust up their ornamented whiteness to the sky, 
 with beauty only matched by the apparent instability. 
 
MILAN MARVELS. 
 
 221 
 
 This by daylight—the description possibly conveying 
 nothing, and yet all that can be thrown into words. By moon¬ 
 light, and especially under the full moon of North Italy—ah, 
 then the apparent idea of the builder becomes more nearly 
 evident. The Governor wandered away to it from his hotel 
 on the night of the full moon, after having drunk himself half 
 mad with its glorious beauty by daylight ; and then he com¬ 
 pleted the intoxication as never before at any point on earth. 
 Had those pinnacles seemed almost innumerable during the 
 day? Now they were multiplied quite beyond the power of 
 arithmetic. Had they seemed almost unreal in their luxurious 
 white beauty ? Now the whole structure floated in an atmos¬ 
 phere of sublimed ether, the moon touching here and glint¬ 
 ing there, and lovingly bathing and enveloping all, so that the 
 power of expression was lost and the only worship was silence. 
 A sunny Italian day on the Duomo is something to be remem¬ 
 bered all the more closely because never to be described : a 
 cloudless Italian full moon on it is a glorification. 
 
 The interior of the Duomo would be striking, if it had no out¬ 
 side ! It is bewildering within, as without, but by no means so 
 impressive and so almost painfully overwhelming. The mosaic 
 pavement is a fine elaboration of lines and colors, but would 
 be more satisfactory if the bad taste had not been exhibited 
 of painting the vaulted ceilings in imitation of stone open¬ 
 work. But any impression of littleness in this obvious blun¬ 
 der is removed by one glance down the long row of columns 
 forming the support of the roof—no less than fifty-two—each 
 fifteen feet in diameter, and the capital of each a colossal statue 
 of white marble under a white marble canopy. These, and 
 the two colossal monoliths of granite at the two sides of the 
 entrance, quite rebuild the temple of architectural faith that 
 may temporarily have fallen ; and the visitor, after seeing 
 them, may afford to leave the Duomo (as the Governor did) 
 without embracing the temptation to ascend to the top of the 
 dome and see all Northern Italy and most of the snow-moun¬ 
 tains of Switzerland. 
 
222 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 Marvel the Second .—The Galleria Vittorio Emmanuelo. To 
 reach this, but a little distance from the Duomo need be trav¬ 
 ersed, as the latter is approached by the Corso (literally Ave¬ 
 nue) of the same name. This Gallery of Victor Emmanuel 
 (how melancholy the sound, now, when he is laid away in so 
 different a gallery !) is simply the most extensive and splendid 
 of arcades, with domed centre, always brilliantly lighted at 
 night and then most frequented—surrounded and filled with 
 shops and cafes, with streets and passages in every direction, 
 and as far beyond the Palais Royal of Paris, the Arcades of 
 Brussels, and the Burlington and other arcades of London, as 
 the just-quitted Duomo excels an ordinary country meeting¬ 
 house. Nowhere else on earth has trade such a resort, with 
 evening promenade one of its great conditions. Shops, pave¬ 
 ment, arrangements, all seem perfect.; the glare of lights is 
 quite matched by the flash of jewelry, the glow of gold and sil¬ 
 ver ware, and all those baits with which the daughters of Eve 
 (ay, and the sons of Adam) are said to be constantly tempted. 
 The chatter of tongues, the chink of the spoons in the coffee- 
 cups, the tinkling of glasses, the steps of the promenaders on 
 the perfect mosaic pavement—these are only a part of the 
 sounds of the Gallery during the evening ; and there are others 
 than the Governor who think that no other city on the globe 
 has anything to be compared with it, even as there was but one 
 man of the name which it bears. 
 
 There are drawbacks even to commercial splendor, however. 
 On the second evening of visiting the Gallery, the Governor 
 fell into the company of a very pleasant Englishman, who was 
 not enthusiastic over the erection. “ Yes, fine, and all that 
 sort of thing, you know,” he answered to some praises guber- 
 naturally bestowed upon it. “ But then it ought to be—don’t 
 you understand ? The blarsted thing has cost us enough.” 
 “ Us—what do you mean ?’’ was the very natural inquiry. “Why 
 us—us English, don’t you see ! Every confounded bit of this 
 was built with English money, borrowed, of course, and with 
 no more chance of ever being paid back again than I have of 
 being Pope—don’t you understand ? Sore thing for us, though 
 
MILAN MARVELS 
 
 223 
 
 it may be a niceish sort of thing to have here." The Governo 
 did understand, and said no more on the subject. Probably 
 if the thing did not pay, as they said, and if his money had 
 been consumed in the bad investment, he might have growled 
 a la John Bull; but as it was, and as some one else, if any one 
 had been the loser, he merely said, below his breath : “ Well, 
 Milan needed this Gallery. If it hadn't money to build it, it 
 needed to get it somewhere. If the English had it, and some 
 one else had not, why the English had to fork over, and very 
 properl)'—don’t you see ?” 
 
 Marvel the Third. —Leonardo da Vinci’s “ Last Supper.” 
 This, one of the most marvellous pictures that the world ever 
 saw, and the crowning work of that master, has had a fate sel¬ 
 dom or never paralleled. Painted originally on the wall of the 
 refectory connected with the monastery chapel of Santa Maria 
 del la Grazia, so that the monks could see the wonderful last 
 banquet while at their own meals,—its location has changed 
 in use, to be a cavalry barrack ? And there, in that atmosphere 
 of t.he stables, it has faded and peeled, until only a part of the 
 original glories remain, and yet enough to show the best ren¬ 
 dering of the Saviour ever attempted, and to make the ruin a 
 pilgrimage. Fortunately it was copied and copied again, long 
 ago and before it was materially destroyed, so that all the world 
 has seen copies of it. But to have saved the picture itself— 
 to have it intact, to-day, and in the perusal of it to come back 
 into the presence of the God-Man as only the eye can assist 
 the mind to come :—this would have been something for an 
 age wandering away so far from Him ! To have seen the 
 divine head so lovingly bowed, and the divine hands so spread 
 in blessing, as in this marvellous picture, however grayed and 
 faded by time and the stabling of horses—this is a privilege 
 which the Governor would not have forgone at any price with¬ 
 in computation. Leonardo da Vinci, in this, came nearer to 
 reproducing the Glory of All the Ages, than any one who pre¬ 
 ceded or followed him: has any other mere man so noble a 
 crown on the forehead of his effort? and is this not truly a 
 “marvel of Milan ” worthy to have been ranked the first in¬ 
 stead of the third ? 
 
224 
 
 OVER HALF-EUROPE. 
 
 Marvel the Fourth .—The pretty women of Milan. Yes, this 
 is the fourth and concluding marvel of the beautiful North 
 Italian city, without the Brera Gallery and its many noble 
 works of art, of Raphael, and Sebastian del Piombo, and An¬ 
 drea Mantegni, and Gaudenzo Ferrari, and da Vinci himself, 
 and Canova in his Napoleonic sculptures, and others innumer¬ 
 able of the immortal line, being at all forgotten or underrated ; 
 and without any denial of the statement that the Belgiojoso 
 Palace is the finest in Milan, and quite worth considering if 
 offered as a token of esteem. 
 
 The subject is a delicate one on which to write, and the 
 Governor can only do it with fear and trembling—also with 
 great brevity. But the women of Milan—at least theyoung ones, 
 who are all that the world seems to care for—are very hand¬ 
 some ; more collectively handsome than those of any other 
 city in Europe, and closely approaching to that city of Amer¬ 
 ica which contains the greatest aggregated beauty of all. 
 (That city is not to be named here, for obvious reasons ; let 
 every reader supply it for himself or herself , and so the eyes of 
 the writer escape.) Something of the piquant attractiveness 
 of the women of Milan is unquestionably due to the bare head 
 and the mantilla {a la Espagnole) which are universal ; but the 
 forms and the eyes, also the lips, are not made by any man¬ 
 tilla, however set off by it. And the Governor, in various 
 wanderings about the city, did so find himself pierced with 
 darts from those Italian eyes, as to carry a veritable bed of 
 prickly nettles beneath his waistcoat, all the more fierce and 
 fiery because of enforced silence (modesty and ignorance of 
 the language both understood). And in a couple of evenings 
 spent at the Giardina Cova, the favorite evening resort of the 
 Milanese, where he went to hear music, drink raspberry syrup, 
 and smoke the cigar of peace—he did so tumble in love with 
 first one and then another of two or three hundred dark-eyed 
 beauties, to each of whom he at the special moment vowed to 
 pay exclusive adoration thenceforth, that the memory is 
 equally confusing and delicious, while whatever of intact 
 heart he may before have possessed, has ever since been rid- 
 
MILAN MARVELS. 
 
 225 
 
 died into the condition of that article of domestic economy 
 known as the colander. 
 
 Ah, those pretty women of Milan, with the ripe forms, the 
 merrj' eyes, the grapevine tendril hair, and the mantilla worn 
 as the finishing charm of all coquetry ! To what excesses might 
 they not lead any one less mindful of the strict proprieties than 
 this one adorer whose addresses they were spared through that 
 blended modesty and lingual ignorance ! And how necessary 
 the Governor feels it that he should go back again to Milan 
 some day, and look to it that no one else suffers from their 
 fascinations, so far as he can stand as a breastwork in general 
 defence of his sex ! 
 
XXVII. 
 
 VENETIAN GONDOLAS, VIEWS AND HISTORY. 
 
 It is very easy and very natural to say that “ Venice is the 
 most interesting city in the world.” So it is, in all probabil¬ 
 ity. But that conveys little or nothing ; and not much more is 
 conveyed by the appellations, “ City of the Sea,” “ Bride of 
 the Adriatic,” and others, so often used because so sounding 
 and poetic. There have been an endless succession of super¬ 
 latives lavished on Venice ; but to judge from the Governor’s 
 experience, they have told us very little in reply to that com¬ 
 mon-sense inquiry : “ What is it like ?” 
 
 In point of fact, the first thing necessary to be known about 
 the City of the Sea, is what is it not like. To describe it by a 
 single phrase, would be to call it the “ City in the Sea for 
 that is its real condition. Most of those who have not visited 
 it, think of it as a city with canals through the streets, say like Am¬ 
 sterdam or Rotterdam, in Holland. It is nothing of the sort: 
 it is a city whose streets are canals ; and the only comprehen¬ 
 sive comparison that can be made is to say that it creates the 
 impression of being a town invaded by a spring freshet, with the 
 water up to the first floors of the houses, and everybody tem¬ 
 porarily going about in boats until the flood dries away. The 
 remark is common, that there is not a horse in Venice ; it 
 might go much further, and say that there is not a street, the 
 usual acceptation of the term being understood ; and only those 
 fabulous draught-animals, the sea-horses, could be of any use. 
 It is not certain whether the stone foundations extend down 
 to the bottom of the water and mud, or Avhether the whole 
 city is built upon piles, like the villages of Siam, in the old 
 geographies ; but certain it is that, with the very scantiest of 
 exceptions, all of the space it covers, not houses, is water. 
 
VENETIAN GONDOLAS , c Sec. 
 
 227 
 
 Rogers’ fine four lines of description, in his poem of “ Italy,” 
 perhaps tell nearly as much, in a brief space, as has been con¬ 
 veyed in all the preceding ; 
 
 “ There is a glorious citv in the sen ; 
 
 The sea is in the broad, the narrow streets, 
 
 Ebbing and flowing, and the salt sea weed 
 Clings to the marble of her palaces.” 
 
 As an illustration of this peculiar location. On the first 
 afternoon of the Governor’s brief sojourn in Venice, coming 
 out of the rear door of his hotel, on what seemed a sort of 
 narrow ledge over the canal, and wishing to find his unas¬ 
 sisted way to the Piazza of St. Marc, he asked the landlord 
 for a direction. “ Oh, you cannot miss it,” he replied ; ” “ keep 
 on until you come to the next wide street, then turn to the 
 left, and you will be in sight of the square.” “ The next wide 
 street! ” he echoed. “ Very good ; but where shall I find the 
 first wide one?” The landlord laughed, and said: “Oh, of 
 course you do not understand, yet! This is the widest street 
 in Venice.” The Governor measured it, as a curiosity, and 
 found it seven feet ■wide! The narrow ones, that he passed, 
 then and afterward, mere passages between rows of houses— 
 averaged about three feet! A narrow riband like this, 
 along the edges of some of the minor canals (there is none at 
 all along the Grand Canal) from the back of one house to 
 another, or where the ends of the hundreds of bridges abut, or 
 a little wider strip at some special landing-place, or in front of 
 some church or other public building, this is all that Venice 
 proper possesses of solid earth, except in the Grand Piazza 
 or square of St. Marc ; the Piazzetta or Little Square ; the 
 Mrolo; and a few other and minor instances. Of course, 
 with no horses, riding is unknown ; and so is walking, to any 
 great extent—others than Paddy, when they wish to enjoy a 
 promenade, being obliged to utter the summons : “What ho, 
 my gay gondolier ! ” and take their walk in a boat ! 
 
 That boat—the gondola ; perhaps it is entitled to the next 
 word, being among the most important things connected with 
 Venice, the oftenest talked of, and the least understood. The 
 
 16 
 
228 
 
 OVER HALE EUROPE. 
 
 Gondolier, a charming figure in pictures, with lithe form, em¬ 
 broidered jacket and all the attractions—is a very ordinary 
 boatmany sort of person, in reality, and without the least pic¬ 
 turesque feature in his attire, while he is habitually dirty (in 
 spite of the water so convenient), and not always pleasant to 
 come on the leeward side of, after he has been making extra 
 exertions. lie does not sing, either: (thank all the fates for 
 that!) though he does yell occasionally. He stands at near 
 the stern of his boat, on a flat platform, and at once rows 
 and steers, with a single oar placed in one or the other of two 
 notches in the sides of a row-lock about two feet high. He 
 handles oar and boat with admirable awkwardness, so far as 
 can be judged by a northern barbarian and a bad oarsman, 
 but one who has known boats and boatmen all his life. He 
 utters one of two cries, always, when approaching a corner 
 behind which another boat may be coming to meet him : 
 “ Stallay ! ” understood to be “ Look out! ” or “ Give me the 
 road !” or “ Au premyay !” translated into “Go ahead!” or 
 “Take the right of way !” 
 
 11 is boat, the far-famed gondola (of which New Yorkers 
 have sometime seen a melancholy and rotting specimen in 
 the Lake at the Central Park)—is a low flaring craft, very much 
 curved upward at bow and stern, so that only a short propor¬ 
 tion of the bottom touches the water, and that it turns easily, 
 A high prow of iron rises, something like a huge butchers’- 
 cleaver, with three or four bars nailed across the handle—said 
 to be always kept at that height, as a gauge, to ensure that 
 when that passes under a bridge, all behind will also pass 
 clear. In the gunwales, at each side, some six or seven feet 
 apart, and inclosing the middle or waist of the boat—are two 
 holes, into which are inserted, for cool weather, the tennons 
 of a sloping-roofed frame, covered with black cloth, and with 
 doors at the ends and windows at the sides. For hot weather, 
 instead of this, bent poles covered with a light frame are in¬ 
 serted into these holes, and a gay-colored or white-cotton 
 awning drawn over the frame, as a protection from the sun— 
 precisely after the manner of the movable bow-top of an ex- 
 
VENETIAN GONDOLAS, &c. 
 
 229 
 
 press wagon. For service, other than the carrying of passen¬ 
 gers, neither frame is supplied, and the boat is left merely an 
 open one, with no suspicion of the traditional “gondola” 
 except in shape. The place for passengers is entirely in the 
 middle, generally on cushions, though that luxury is some¬ 
 times waived. How many of these marine conveyances there 
 may be at and about Venice—who can guess? They are uni¬ 
 versal as indispensable, of all shades of moderate elegance 
 and of shabbiness, and probably number half as many as the 
 cabs of London—four or five thousand. The Governor prob¬ 
 ably saw them nearly all, one night, at the moonlight festival 
 of the Lido ; and there can be no other time so proper as this, 
 to relate his experience in reaching that place, by gondola— 
 an experience that he remembers with a sort of delighted hor¬ 
 ror, as he does storms at sea, prospects of railway-smashes, and 
 other things of the kind, which sometimes fall to the lot of the 
 traveller. 
 
 The festival was, as the name indicates, an extraordinary 
 occasion (to be hereafter again recalled); and the single gon¬ 
 dolas were all taken up as fast as they appeared ; while the 
 two little steamers running across the Lagune to that point, 
 were worse overcrowded than—say a New York horse car at 
 six o’clock in the evening, or a Brooklyn ferryboat at the 
 same hour; people not only sitting on the gunwales and rail¬ 
 ings, but hanging fast of them like so many bees around 
 a swarming hive. There was nothing for it, then, but to look 
 out for an omnibus-gondola—a sort of conveyance with 
 enough of mingled capacity and unpopularity, to make possi¬ 
 ble the obtaining of a seat. Well, the Governor did obtain a 
 place, thanks to—whom could it be possibly imagined ? a fel¬ 
 low who was “touting” or drumming for the boat, on the lit¬ 
 tle dock, by representing to all comers, in the choicest Italian, 
 her advantages over all others—but whom the Governor 
 recognized, and made him admit the fact, as having done the 
 same thing, in vigorous English, on a New York pier, for the 
 Francis Skiddy, in the great Henry Clay and Reindeer racing- 
 year of 1852, when they collared and forced on board one or the 
 
230 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE 
 
 other of the rival boats, every one who happened to come 
 within reach! The Governor may never cross the Dead 
 Sea, or go from one of the South-Sea Islands to another ; but 
 if he does, he will no doubt find that universal person some¬ 
 where about the place of starting, recommending boat or 
 canoe in the choicest of Arabic or Polynesian ! 
 
 He did obtain a place, then, in the omnibus-gondola, which 
 had about twenty other passengers, four rowers seated for¬ 
 ward, and a half-rower and half-steersman standing on the plat¬ 
 form, aft, one oar in his hands, and another hanging loose on 
 an iron pivot, to be taken up and dropped down again semi- 
 occasionally. They left the pier ; they got out into the open 
 Lagune. The wind blew briskly from the east, in a squall that 
 lasted only fifteen minutes, but that tumbled up very pretty lit. 
 tie waves for that length of time, and that would have made 
 the handling of a well-managed overloaded boat not too easy 
 a matter. But, powers of Neptune !—what was it, in that 
 instance ! The boat went here, there, and everywhere (except 
 to t he bottom) at her own sweet will. The four rowers, forward, 
 missed stroke, caught crabs, tumbled backward, and half-lost 
 their oars, about twice a minute. And yet they were nothing 
 to the man at the stern, who jerked, pulled, rested, squirmed, 
 first with one oar and then with the other ; threw off his coat, 
 then his hat, then his neckcloth ; perspired in a stream ; and 
 alternately groaned and howled like a maniac. 
 
 It was a wonderful exhibition of Italian boatmanship, usually 
 praised—a wonderful scene ; and the spectator was glad that 
 he had witnessed it, when it was aver! Meanwhile, it is doubt¬ 
 ful whether the steersman swore, at all, in all his howling; the 
 drivers, and perhaps the boatmen, of an American city, could 
 teach the Venetians something in that direction. For the 
 same observer was in a jam on the Grand Canal, one day, 
 when about twenty boats were hopelessly locked together; 
 and though there was any quantity of pushing and gesti¬ 
 culating, and directions, and yelling, it is not remembered 
 that there was a single oath, or that one of the gondoliers 
 even threatened to “mash the jaw ” of another, or “ put a 
 French roof on him.” 
 
VENETIAN GONDOLAS, &c. 
 
 232 
 
 Of the gondolas and the gondoliers, it is only necessary 
 to add, here, that the boats are nearly as cheap as numer¬ 
 ous—only one franc per hour, each rower, in the day time, 
 and twice that amount at night; though boatmen are human 
 here as elsewhere, and they will sometimes try to get in the 
 second rower, when only one is needed, by representing hard¬ 
 ships that do not exist. Most of the romance, probably, as 
 well as most of the intrigue, connected with these boats, has 
 passed away, with tne power, the glory, and the proud and 
 dangerous vice of the Queen of the Adriatic. It is still some¬ 
 thing, however, in making what was once the “ grand tour,” 
 to have answered Shakespeare’s query and “ swam in a gon¬ 
 dola at Venice and it is perhaps something more to have 
 been rowed, in one and another of these boats, over so many 
 ladies of condition, plunging off the front steps of their 
 palaces, not too voluminously arrayed,—as fell to the Gover¬ 
 nor’s alarmed lot, during various and sundry excursions 
 along that marine thoroughfare. He afterward remembered 
 some of the white limbs in the water, and some of the dark 
 eyes that laughed up at him, on those occasions, with the im¬ 
 pression that Venice has very pretty mermaids, for whom one 
 might go fishing very pleasantly, with the proper bait! 
 
 But we have been more or less “carried away” by the gon¬ 
 dola, as was inevitable with a thing built especially for car¬ 
 rying passengers ; and something more remains to be said of 
 the position of the citv, and its relation to the waters crossing 
 and surrounding it—before dealing with a few specialties, 
 of interest alike to visitor and reader. 
 
 The view of Venice with which non-visitors are most famil¬ 
 iar, is one taken, or supposed to be taken, from a gondola at 
 some little distance off the main water-front, in the open La- 
 gune, just in face of the most remarkable cluster of interesting 
 objects covering the same space at any one point in the 
 known world. In this picture, which many will remember, 
 the central figure, so to speak, is the Doge’s Palace, a large, 
 flat, Moorish building, of white marble mosaicked, with zig¬ 
 zag courses of colored marble—the plan and form used, in 
 
232 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 very much reduced proportions, for the New York Acadamy 
 of Design, but the whole lower story a line of magnificent 
 Moorish open columns and arches. To the right, as seen by 
 the spectator, at only a little distance, a much lower and 
 smaller building, on the same front-line, is the Carceri, or Old 
 Prison building, with the Bridge of Sighs spanning the inter¬ 
 vening canal, from one to the other. In front of both, and 
 thence stretching along the water-side to the right, for some 
 distance, is the Molo, the Riva, or Mola Riva dei Schiavoni, 
 really the principal wharf of Venice. To the left of the Doge’s 
 Palace, an open flagged space, running back alongside of it, 
 is the Piazzetta, or Little Square, with the Libreria, or Old 
 Library, forming the other side ; and on the outer edge of 
 this, aligning with the palace-front, stand the two handsome 
 columns so often spoken of in Venetian history and romance— 
 that nearest the Palace having on its broad top the Winged 
 Lion of St. Marc, emblem of the city ; and that nearest the 
 Libreria being surmounted by a statue of St. Theodore 
 standing on a crocodile, old token of the Republic. 
 
 Immediately behind the Doge’s Palace, and not seen in this 
 view, except its topmast pinnacles, is the church of St. Marc, 
 fronting westward on the Grand Piazza, which opens westward 
 from the Piazetti behind ; and behind the Libreria, just in 
 front of the church, looms up the wonderful Campanile or 
 Bell-Tower, 304 feet in height and as generally visible as Bun¬ 
 ker Hill Monument at Boston, while at once the handsomest 
 and most impressive thing that was ever shaped by human 
 hands out of a mere square pile of red bricks with a raised 
 edging and a sloping top. Around this are always circling 
 and flitting the innumerable doves or pigeons of Venice, said 
 to be descended from those carrier-birds that first brought 
 to the city the news of the successes against Constantinople,— 
 and as sacred from harm and as much regarded as part of the 
 civic glory, as the chimney-nesting storks of Franco-German 
 Strasbourg. To the left of the Libreria lie the Royal Gardens, 
 at the northern side of the entrance of the Grand Canal. 
 
 If the spectator in the gondola, having observed so much at 
 this point of the water-front, should turn around in his boat 
 
VENETIAN GONDOLAS, &c. 
 
 233 
 
 and look southward, he would see that several large islands 
 cut off the view from the open sea—nearest, the islands of the 
 Guidecca and St. Giorgio Maggiorc (with its splendid church 
 of the same name crowning the point), and southeastward and 
 farther away, the Lido, its full name seldom used, being the 
 Lido di Palestrina, the mingled Long Branch and Coney 
 Island of Venice, besides being, at one point, the burial-piace of 
 heretics from the Church. The spectator would find, too, 
 that he was not far from the entrance of the Grand Canal, 
 before mentioned ; that important main street, or watery 
 Broadway, entering from the lagoon just westward from the 
 Royal Gardens, with the Punta della Salute, crowned by the 
 church of the same name (one of the noblest in Venice), 
 forming the outer cape or front of the entrance. Though he 
 could not then sec the fact, he might afterwards learn that 
 this same Grand Canal, there entering, pursues its way through 
 the entire city from that point in the shape of a letter S, 
 made backwards by a schoolboy coming out again to the 
 lagoon at the northwest of the city, at the island of Chiara. 
 
 So much understood, in position : now for a few rapid words 
 of historical review ; and afterward an equally rapid examina¬ 
 tion of certain points of special interest, any attempt at con¬ 
 nected description being at once disclaimed. And if any 
 reader should fancy his extent of information called in ques¬ 
 tion by the historical reminders, let him be consoled by the 
 admission that the present instructor has needed the same 
 “ rubbing up,” and would need it to-day but for a late visit, 
 and those compelled researches incident to the professional 
 direction of travel. 
 
 Venice, on the mainland, was founded and inhabited by the 
 Romans, of course : everything in Europe was “ founded by 
 the Romans." Then, equally of course, the young city 
 was “destroyed by the northern hordes”—the Huns, Goths, 
 &c., who broke up nearly as many things as the Romans 
 founded. After the fall of the Roman Empire, some of the 
 people from the mainland escaped from the pursuing barba¬ 
 rians, to the islands in the lagoon, at this point, and here laid 
 
234 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 the foundations (again in the congenial mud) of the City of 
 the Sea. It had its Doge (duke or governor) as far back as 
 697. But the Crusades may be said to have made it, during 
 the more than 200 years from 1070 to 1300. Venice lay on the 
 sea, very near, comparatively, to the Holy Land ; the north¬ 
 ern nations, who wished to go there to be let blood and dissi¬ 
 pate their wealth, could find no other way of going, so con¬ 
 venient as hiring the Venetian ships, and paying roundly for 
 them, after coming down to the Adriatic by land. Gradually 
 it became virtual mistress of the sea, possessing half Italy, 
 part of Greece, and almost all the islands in the Mediter¬ 
 ranean. 
 
 Perhaps it reached its first culmination in power at about 
 1200, when the Doge Enrico Dandolo had so large a share in 
 the taking of Constantinople and destruction of the East¬ 
 ern Empire—bringing back with him to Venice, by the way, 
 even a larger share of the plunder of the captured city, which 
 we may have later occasion to examine. From 1200 it un¬ 
 derwent continued contests with other piratical powers— 
 the Turks, the Genoese, Hungarians, &c., alternately losing 
 and winning territory, but generally coming out a little ahead 
 from long practice, until about 1500 it reached its second or 
 highest culmination, as other things do, just before they 
 commence tailing. It had then about 200,000 inhabitants ; a 
 fleet of fifty war galleys, holding control of the whole Medi¬ 
 terranean ; some 300 sea-going vessels ; and not less than 300 
 smaller. But from that time it declined. The Turks took 
 away its eastern possessions ; the Portuguese, with the aid of 
 the lately-discovered routes to India, helped themselves to its 
 carrying trade, as the English have done with ours ; and the 
 Pope, the French, and other Powers, who could make nothing, 
 more out of it, inaugurated its ruin by the League of Cambrai. 
 
 It had flashes of glory afterward, however ; as when the 
 Venetian galleys so splendidly aided Don John of Austria to 
 defeat the Turks at Lepanto, 1571 ; and when they themselves 
 defeated the same Power, in 1684, 1696, and 1698. Nevertheless, 
 the doom was written ; all the other Powers helped them- 
 
VENETIAN GONDOLAS, &c. 
 
 235 
 
 selves to pieces of it, at intervals ; and after the Peace of 
 Passarowitz, 1718, which gave the Turks all they claimed, 
 Venice ceased to be a Power with any controlling influence. 
 But the worst was not yet! Venice rejected the proposals 
 of alliance of the French Republic, after the Revolution ; and 
 as a punishment, Napoleon, then General Bonaparte, took 
 possession in 1797, destroyed what did not please him, carried 
 away what did, and handed over the territory to Austria, by 
 the Treaty ofCampo Formio. 
 
 Venice, the once mighty and rapacious, had now become a 
 mere shuttlecock—everybody sent it where they wished. By 
 the Treaty of Presburg, it became Italian ; by that of 1814-15, 
 it went back to Austria. In 1848 it became for a brief time 
 again a republic, under the presidency of Daniel Manin ; but 
 the Austrians took it again in 1849, to lose it once more and 
 finally (let us hope), in 1867 to the Kingdom of Italy, which 
 may Heaven long preserve, if it proves the good government 
 promised ! 
 
 At what time the Council of Ten, at once the pride and 
 dread of Venice, with its patriotism, its treasons, its secrets 
 and its cruelties, became a part of the system of government, 
 it is by no means easy to decide. There is reason to believe 
 that it existed in 1100 ; it is known to have been still in exist¬ 
 ence in 1600; and though now long past, it still exists to-day, 
 with its later variations, the Cinque Cento and the Council of 
 Three—as a shadowy force possessing almost the strength of 
 a reality. To the visitor to Venice, to-day, it moves through 
 the now silent halls of the Doge’s Palace ; it seems to grope 
 in the mouldy darkness of the old dungeons still remaining ; 
 it glides at midnight over the canals, inside the black curtains 
 of tbe gondola. It makes, and must ever make, half of Vene¬ 
 tian history and Venetian romance. 
 
XXVIII. 
 
 AROUND VENICE, GENERALLY. 
 
 After the gondolas and history, the Bridge of Sighs is the 
 next thing at Venice to enchain the attention of the visitor— 
 principally because Byron wrote falsely of it, in “ Childe Har¬ 
 old 
 
 “ I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs, 
 
 A palace and a prison on each hand.'' 
 
 There is nothing of the sort: only a palace on one hand and 
 a prison on the other. The Bridge of Sighs crosses the little 
 Canal di Palazzo, from the Doge's Palace to the Carceri, or 
 Prison ; from the second story of the former to the top story 
 of the latter. It is thus some distance above the water, 
 covered, and with two small windows at the sides, through 
 which the prisoners who crossed it were supposed to draw 
 long breaths (“ sospiri ”) as they went in. 
 
 With a propensity easily understood, even if unexplainable, 
 the Governor went into the Old Prisons, under the leaden roof 
 of the Doge’s Palace, and in the Carceri, and noted the 
 exquisite feeling with which they used to imprison people 
 up under the roof in blazing summer, and down in the damp 
 lower dungeons in mid-winter. On this July day the glass 
 went up to 1340, under the roof; and though it was from the 
 spot where Silvio Pellico fed his pigeons, the visitor had 
 enough of it in a short period, and hurried away. Then into 
 the loathsome and mouldy stone dungeons under the Carceri, 
 where the entrance is actually made by creeping, and the only 
 air is admitted through a six-inch hole in the door, but 
 where poor old Marino Faliero, the two Foscari, and other 
 subjects of romance, were confined until mercifully killed. 
 Mercifully killed ?—perhaps not!—for there is a fearful spot 
 near the door of Faliero’s prison, called something like 
 “ Execution Passage and the irons in the walls still show 
 where stood the iron chair in which the victims were mur¬ 
 dered, and the trap where they were afterward shoved into 
 
ARO UNO VENICE. 
 
 237 
 
 the canal, tor the 1'ishes. Horrible, all this? Decidedly so ; 
 so let us leave the place and linger a brief space in the Doge’s 
 Palace. 
 
 This central spot in all Venetian history is four-sided, sur¬ 
 rounding a courtyard; and in that yard of splendid architec¬ 
 ture and fine statuary there are two.bronze wells, from which 
 all have the privilege of drawing water at certain hours : 
 nearly all the Venetian water being brackish and bad. From 
 this court, ascent is made up the Giant’s Stairs (so named 
 from Sansovini’s “Mars” and “ Neptune ” standing above). 
 Here, at the head of these stairs, Byron’s Marino Faliero was 
 beheaded five hundred years ago ; and here, in the wall, a 
 mere insignificant slit of some four inches by two, was the 
 “ Lion’s Mouth” of the people, into which those fatal accusa¬ 
 tions were put, from which no one in Venice was safe, and on 
 the strength of which the Council of Ten, or Three, or One 
 Hundred, or whatever it was, simply put to death the accused 
 without any trial to speak of. 
 
 Up another staircase, the Scala d’Oro (or Stair of Gold, so 
 called because only those who had their names in the Golden 
 Book could ascend it), and the Governor was in the Great 
 Council Chamber, the largest in the Palace, and one of the 
 most interesting in Europe. It is a magnificent hall, with 
 heavy carved and gilded cornices; and the whole room, 
 which must have 400 feet of wall, is literally filled with noble 
 pictures, by Tintoretto, Paul Veronese, Bassano, and others of 
 the Venetian school, magnifying the glories of Venetian his¬ 
 tory ; while Tintoretto’s “ Paradise ” covers the entire end of 
 the room with some fifty feet by eighty of active, glowing 
 figures, and the frescoed ceiling has some of the very best 
 work of that great artist, in the “Triumph of Venice. ’ 
 
 Around the frieze, at the top of this room, there is a line of 
 portraits of the Doges, with a black curtain, lettered in gold : 
 “ Hiceest locus Marino Faliethri decapitati pro criminibus 
 and here is also a point at which the list suddenly stopped, 
 when Napoleon came one day and there were no more Doges 
 in Venice. 
 
238 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 No one can be expected to thread the maze and under¬ 
 stand the construction of the apartments in this Palace, which 
 seem to have been arranged especially to drive mad the con¬ 
 demned. There would appear to have been about a dozen 
 apartments especially designed for this laudable purpose, 
 with doors here, and passages there, and secret closets yonder, 
 and all the necessaries for this kind of exercise. Then there 
 was a second “ Lion's Mouth, " that of the nobles, here within— 
 an iron box, opening in an inner room, always locked with at 
 least three keys, so that no one could destroy an accusation, 
 if he would, and thus save any accused. Pleasant, again, all 
 this, was it not ? Let us turn to some of the pictures. 
 
 There are nearly a dozen grand apartments of the Doge’s 
 Palace, all glorious in noble paintings by great masters, and 
 rich with gilded cornices and wondrous frescoes. Titian, 
 Paul Veronese, Tintoretto, the -two Palmas, and many others, 
 are here represented, at their best; and among them is Paul 
 Veronese’s celebrated “ Rape of Europa, ” hurled at the Pope, 
 and representing the Bull (Papal “ Bull ”) carrying off Europa 
 (all Europe) on his back. Then there is a horribly-fascinating 
 “ Inferno,” which gives odds to Dante and Dore, representing 
 men being boiled in kettles, smashed flat like pancakes, fried 
 in pans, eaten of serpents, and otherwise generally delighted. 
 And there is (in the Voting Hall, adjoining the Senate Cham¬ 
 ber, where still stands the old throne of the Doge, and the 
 seats of the Senators, under ceilings and cornices of unequalled 
 richness in carving), a picture by Palma the Younger, in which 
 that aged youth, painting on it in three different years, has first 
 put the portrait of his wife in heaven, among the blessed—then 
 (the second year) in purgatory—and then (the third year) in 
 the hottest tortures of the infernal regions, with a diabolical 
 gentleman shoving her still a little further in ! 
 
 The Church of St. Marc, standing on the Grand Piazza of the 
 same name, is one of the most interesting in the world, if not 
 one of the most beautiful. It is Saracen in architecture, with 
 domes, minarets, and round arches. Over the doorway caper 
 the marvellous Bronze Horses of St. Marc, cast at Rome 
 
ARO UND VENICE. 
 
 239 
 
 stolen to Constantinople, then to Venice, then to Paris (by 
 Napoleon), then back to Venice—to go where, next, let no 
 one guess. Near the church, at the right of the entrance, 
 stands the gigantic Campanile, one of the master-works of its 
 class on earth ; and there is a clock-tower, separate from the 
 church, at the left, where two colossal Vulcans, or Moors, 
 strike the hours with hammers, and where, at two o'clock 
 every day, thousands of doves come fluttering, to be fed with 
 grain on the Piazza. There needs no opening of a door to 
 enter St. Marc , it is only to sweep back a curtain from the 
 doorway. Then it is seen that the interior is very dark and 
 dismal, with old mosaic floor, cracked in many places, but 
 with columns of the richest marbles, statues and monuments 
 innumerable, and altars bearing the most lavish decoration in 
 jewels, gold and silver, and the ceilings of all the domes lined 
 with rarest old pictures, in glass mosaic, on ground works of 
 gold, such as no artist has ever attempted elsewhere, and 
 such as illumines the whole dusky interior with an absolute 
 blaze of glory. 
 
 Then there is a square of red marble in the pavement, show¬ 
 ing where the Emperor Frederic Barbarossa kneeled to have 
 the foot of Pope Alexander III. set on his neck. And not far 
 away (ah, how different, this !) behind the high altar is the 
 accredited tomb of St. Mark, the Evangelist, and the personal 
 companion of the Saviour of Men. It is well to leave the 
 church, with this refining fancy in mind, and wander out into 
 the Grand Piazza, paved with dark variegated marble, entirely 
 surrounded by noble colonnaded buildings, albeit now dingy 
 shops and cafes. As we go, however, it is well to note that 
 there are doors to St. Marc, even if one enters through a cur¬ 
 tain. So there are, truly, massive doors of sculptured bronze, 
 stolen from the Christian Church of St. Sophia, at Constanti¬ 
 nople. Then there arc three splendid ornamented flagstaffs 
 near—models from which those at the New York Central 
 Park Lake, and many others, have been made. They were 
 stolen from the Turks three or four hundred years ago. The 
 derivation of the bronze horses has already been given ; and 
 
240 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 the whole story is instructive. It only remains to add to it 
 that the stone lions standing before the Arsenal, and of which 
 Napoleon knocked off the heads, were stolen from the Greeks. 
 There an end ' 
 
 It may be as well, with this reminder, to proceed to the 
 Arsenal itself, one of the most interesting points in Venice, 
 especially to the lover of the antique and the historical. It 
 lies along the great docks, at the northeast of the city, where 
 the immense armaments of Venice used to be prepared ; and 
 the neighborhood of it is hot enough, at midsummer noon, to 
 oblige the sentinel on guard to stand under a Broadway stage 
 umbrella, to avoid sunstroke down his bayonet. 
 
 The interest of the Arsenal is not to be found in the build¬ 
 ing itself, but in the admirable collection of relics and curios¬ 
 ities, gathered from many lands and all ages. The stone lions 
 with the damaged heads, stand in front of the gateway; and 
 the outer wall has a monument to Count Scholenburg, one of 
 the generals of the later Republic. Among the curiosities of 
 first rank, within, are the battle-flag of the Turkish Admiral, 
 taken at Lepanto by Don John of Austria, in 1571, and on 
 which Cervantes no doubt looked ; the great leathern-banded 
 cannon used at the taking of Constantinople ; the hideous one- 
 eyed helmet of Atilla the Hun ; the armor of Ilenry IV. of 
 France; the immense two-handed sword that Enrico Dandolo 
 wielded at Constantinople when he was nearly eighty ; frag¬ 
 ments of the original Bucentaur, with which the Doge went 
 down towed the Adriatic; swords and other weapons, of all 
 ages, many of them colossal ; poisoned daggers, keys, rings, 
 and other articles, with which the rulers of Naples, Florence, 
 Ferrara, &c., put away their unwelcome guests ; part of the 
 raft with which Admiral Angelo Emo took Tunis, when he had 
 lost all his ships; and (alas ! that the story should need to be 
 told !) ; models, not less than three hundred years old, and 
 seeming to be perfect except the percussion, of Colt's re¬ 
 volver and the French mitrailleuse ! 
 
 And so we drift away from the only half-explored Arsenal, 
 to spend a few moments with Shakspeare and with the 
 
A no UN D T ENTICE. 
 
 241 
 
 Shakspearian localities of the old city, where both “ Othello ” 
 and the ‘ Merchant of Venice’ had their home. It is not too 
 easy to locate the scene of the former play. Off the Grand 
 Canal, on the Canal della Carmina, and at the corner of the 
 Campo of the same name, there is a square house, with a 
 mailed full-length statue at the corner of the second story, 
 and a bonneted head over the lower door—known as the 
 “ Palace of Cristofero il Moro,” a Venetian commander, sup¬ 
 posed by many to have been distantly the original of Othello. 
 And there is another palace, on the Grand Canal, with a broad 
 balcony—pointed out as the residence of Brabantio and home 
 of Dcsdemona. All this may be doubtful ; probably it is so. 
 
 But there is no such ambiguity hanging about the principal 
 localities of the “ Merchant of Venice.” The eye sees at a 
 glance the places intended. The Ponte di Rialto, a noble 
 bridge, crosses the Grand Canal at very nearly the centre of 
 the city. It is a substantial and very handsome structure, 
 round-arched, stepped, with an open tower in the centre, with 
 triple passage, and shops on either side of it. This is believed 
 by many playgoers, and also many stage-setters, to be the 
 “ Rialto,” which it is not. That is to be found in the Campo 
 St. Giacomo di Rialto, a small paved and colonnaded square, 
 not far from the end of the bridge, with the Church of St. 
 Giacomo bounding the southern face, and the column known 
 as the “ Gobbo of the Rialto, ” standing near it. Here it was— 
 not on the bridge—that Shylock, and Antonio, and Bassanio, 
 walked, and talked, and spat on each others’ clothes. And only 
 a little distant is another localization, the Calle di Securita, a 
 street of money lenders and pawnbrokers, where is pointed 
 out an iron-barred and strong-shuttered house as that of Shy- 
 lock. Taken all in all, the fitness of place to story, in the 
 “ Merchant of Venice, ” is simply marvellous ; and one can 
 scarcely believe that the master dramatist never visited the 
 Adriatic, in the face of such absolute local accuracies. 
 
 A brief word, and a brief word only, of several of the re¬ 
 maining curiosities of Venice, worthy of far more attention 
 than they can here receive. 
 
242 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 Beside what he saw in the Doge’s Palace, the Governor 
 found, in the Academy of Fine Arts, and elsewhere, miles and 
 acres of the fine drawing and splendor in color, of Titian, 
 Tintoretto, Paul Veronese, the Palmas, Paris Bordone, Bassano, 
 and others,-of whom Venice was literally the home. Among 
 all these there can only be specified, in the Academy, Titian’s 
 “ Ascension of the Virgin,” unspeakably grand and radiantly 
 lovely, and Paul Veronese’s masterwork as well, the “ Martyr¬ 
 dom of St. Sebastian,” going to the very fountain of human 
 pity, pain, sorrow and indignation. Next to these, unquestion¬ 
 ably, are the great works in marble, in the very old Church of 
 Santa Maria dei Frari, where the tombs of Titian and Canova 
 stand opposite each other, each covering half a wall, and each 
 rivalling the other in artistic glory, as the sleepers rivalled 
 each other in fame. Canova designed his own tomb, for 
 Titian, to have it erected over himself by his mourning disci¬ 
 ples, who declared that it should cover no man meaner. It is 
 an alto-relievo pyramid, in the walls, with half-open doors ; 
 while over it guard the Winged Lion of Venice, the Genius of 
 Sculpture, and a veiled woman carrying the urned heart 
 toward the door, with emblamatic figures following. A royal 
 sepulture this; and yet scarcely more royal than that of 
 Titian—a triumphal arch, supported by four columns with 
 winged lions at top. Five of the most celebrated of his paint¬ 
 ings are represented, in bass-relief; and there are full-length 
 statues of himself, as he was at 35, at 65, and at 99, while six 
 allegorical figures of the Arts make up the grand and masterly 
 grouping. After such works, becomes secondary even the 
 colossal tomb of Doge John Pisani, the conqueror of Africa— 
 with its elaborate ornamentation and four turbaned negroes 
 bearing the whole upper portion on their broad bending 
 backs. 
 
 The Grand Canal, which Canaletto painted so wondrously 
 at every point, is wide, the water washing the steps of its 
 palaces, the whole length ; and in front of many are those 
 high, ornamented “ hitching-posts ” so well known in all pic¬ 
 tures of Venice. Palaces they are, that line this canal, indeed 
 
AROUND VENICE. 
 
 243 
 
 as well as in name—as those of the Two Foscari, of Doge 
 Enrico Dandolo, Barberini, Contarini, Grimani, and others— 
 many of them, now (shall we say “ alas ” ?) in trade ! Saracenic 
 architecture prevails throughout, marking the erections, many 
 centuries ago, of men only lately come back from the crusades. 
 Of course, the Grand Canal is the fashionable promenade (in 
 boats) of the city ; and the scene on it, of a summer afternoon, 
 in the stately old palace-fronts, the awninged gondolas full of 
 bright-clothed pleasure seekers, and the athletic gondoliers 
 plying their trade so vigorously,—is one full of life and color, 
 and long to be remembered. 
 
 But it was the privilege of the Governor, in that incident 
 already recorded in the previous paper, going out to the Lido, 
 to see the gondolas of Venice, collective!}', under more favor¬ 
 able circumstances than could have been supplied elsewhere 
 in the world. The Lido, a long island of about half a mile 
 wide, lying some miles over the Lagune, and forming a harbor 
 against the open Adriatic,—has been already spoken of at some 
 length. That nightrbeing the Sommernachtfest or midsummer 
 full-moon festival, lanterns played nearly as important a part as 
 they do with the Chinese. The island was itself a blaze of lights, 
 at every point where a burner could be lit or a lantern hung, 
 from the landing-place all the way across to the open sea 
 of the Adriatic. 
 
 But imagine, if such a thing can be, standing at the principal 
 landing-place; with myriad-lighted Venice over the rippled 
 Lagune, four or five miles away ; the whole shore, on which 
 the observer was standing, crowded with people of both sexes 
 and all ranks and conditions, with lanterns flashing upon them 
 literally everywhere, overhead and at all points; the beach, so 
 far as the eye could reach, lined with gondolas of all sizes and 
 descriptions, and each bearing as many lights as could be put 
 upon it by human ingenuity; then the whole Lagune, from the 
 island to the city, sparkled and dotted, here, there, everywhere, 
 by the lights of hundreds upon hundreds of boats, coming, 
 going, crossing each other, with the number and changeful 
 variety of the fire-flies in a summer meadow. And add to 
 
 17 
 
244 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 this, music in infinite quantity and oddity, but a certain excel¬ 
 lence throughout; voices using all the tongues since Babel, 
 but the soft Italian predominant as the Italian dark-eyes flash¬ 
 ing under the lights ; and above all this the cloudless full- 
 moon pouring down her flood of liquid splendor from a sky 
 blending blue and amber, through air refreshing as wine and 
 fragrant with mingled sea-breeze and flower-perfume. 
 
 Imagine all this, so far as possible ; and then think, with the 
 Governor, that perhaps he followed the practice of the children 
 in eating delicacies—keeping the best to the last—and that he 
 did well in leaving Venice on the morning following the 
 Moonlight Festival of the Lido. 
 
FLORENCE ART, AND MILD BRIGANDAGE. 
 
 The Governor came to Florence, from Venice, in what may¬ 
 be designated as a hurry, and without having entertained the 
 least idea, twenty-four hours before he left the Bride of the 
 Adriatic, of going to Florence at all. But a man younger 
 than himself, athletic, and with a military reputation, hap¬ 
 pened upon him when he was just arranging to leave Venice, 
 and laid upon him those mild commands to “ come along with 
 him, and at once !” which have been obeyed so many times, 
 with fear and trembling, since Mephistopheles (supposably) 
 walked off with John Faust the philosophical printer-doctor- 
 The name of the compelling power, for this occasion, was the 
 Colonel; and that name was more than a mere picture, as the 
 wearer of it had marched up to several batteries and into a 
 considerable number of conflicts, in the War for the Union. 
 Also, he habitually carried a sword-stick, with a blade of about 
 two feet in length, a little loose in the sheath, and consequently 
 in the habit of jingling when he set it violently down on hard 
 ground. Was not the Governor right, to obey the command 
 of this man, and to accompany him anywhere that he hap¬ 
 pened to designate ? 
 
 At all events, they left Venice in company, by rail, at 9:45 
 one hot morning, just when the first mosquito was making 
 his appearance (with a horn under his arm) on the shores of 
 the Lagune. At noon that day they had Rovigo at the left, 
 with a square brick tower the only prominent object, but 
 quite enough to occupy attention, in the fact that near it 
 Napoleon fought one of his great early battles. There was a 
 glimpse, too, of the Adige, which persistent river has an ap¬ 
 parent faculty of distributing itself a little miscellaneously 
 through all the lower Tyrol and most of Northeastern Italy. 
 Then at 12:45 P- M., they were crossing the wide Sarepo by a 
 handsome iron bridge with a bridge of boats immediately above 
 
246 
 
 O VER HA LF-E UR OPE. 
 
 it, and approaching Ferrara, again at the left—a solidly built, 
 low-lying town, with two or three towers of height, and much 
 appearance of durability, besides strong fortifications sur¬ 
 rounding it, and inevitable remembrances of the D’Estes, 
 Dukes of Ferrara, of Leonora Ariosto, and Torquato Tasso, as 
 also of the splendid blades, the “ Andrea Ferraras” which 
 used to have the privilege of “ spitting” as many men, in 
 duels, after the manner of skewering larks, as any other 
 manufacture of steel ever known. The Colonel was already 
 armed, however; and only the Governor, having no other 
 means of wasting a few livres, bought a sword-stick, war¬ 
 ranted to be of the very steel once supplied by Andrea, while 
 probably of about the actual tenacity and keenness of a 
 barrel-hoop. It glittered, however, when drawn, and that 
 was eventually to be of more consequence than he knew at 
 the moment. 
 
 Here the Po came into view for the first, and was duly 
 wondered over—it seeming unlikely that a stream no larger 
 should have had so important a history. Then rose some¬ 
 what higher ground than that on which they had before been 
 running from Venice, the Po much of the time in view, and 
 some suspicions of the coming Apennines. And at 2.20 P. M. 
 they were at Bologna—the weather atrociously hot, and the 
 lunch which they enjoyed at the railway buffet of the level- 
 lying old town, principally composed of soup a la boiled dish- 
 rag, without even a sausage. Had the “ wait ” been longer, 
 they would have been enabled to “do” the really fine old 
 town, of which the Palazzo del Podesta, the Palazzo Pubb- 
 lico, and the Church of St. Petronio, as well as many other 
 objects, were found on another occasion to be of decided 
 interest, as became one of the oldest Italian cities and the 
 Capital of the Campagna: had it been shorter, the Bolognese 
 air would not have been loaded by the irascible Colonel with 
 quite so many silent and half-muttered objurgations. 
 
 They were away from Bologna, however, at a little past three 
 P. M„ and from the moment of leaving were among scenery 
 capable of making them forget the delay. For they were 
 
FLORENCE ART AND BRIGANDAGE. 
 
 247 
 
 entering a spur of the Apennines, beside the Po, with many 
 bridges though very little water, and passing through some 
 twoscore of tunnels. A little beyond, and they were in the 
 midst of engineering of that character—tunnels, bridges and 
 levels—closely approaching if not equal to that of the road up 
 the valley of the Rhone. They seemed to be alternately on the 
 tops of mountains and under them, with the precipices and 
 bridges quite decided enough for any sense of comfort, but very 
 pleasant for after recollection. They were at Pistoja at 6:15 
 P. M., with nothing especial to note about the old town, except 
 that its railway-stoppage arrangements might have been made 
 before the Deluge—and that that very noisy instrument of 
 torture and defence, as well as great instigator of duelling, 
 the pistol, had its origin there. 
 
 Before and after reaching Pistoja, they were making some 
 of the last descents of the Apennines, and some of the finest. 
 The mountain gorges were exceedingly picturesque in their 
 blending of the rocky and the wooded ; and the views over 
 the fertile plains of Tuscany, and the splendidly-wooded hills, 
 became beautiful exceedingly. Then they were at heavily- 
 fortified Prato, actually at the foot of the mountain range 
 proper ; and with a few more leaps and shrieks of the engine, 
 they had reached one more goal of the pilgrimage, quite unex¬ 
 pected to the Governor. They were beside the Arno, at 
 Florence; and if Italy had still something more to offer, it had 
 nothing finer than this beautiful city, with the most melodious 
 name in all nomenclature, and an air approaching more nearly 
 to wine than any other that the traveller has the privilege of 
 breathing on this side of the Dark Valley. 
 
 Close students of geography, or extensive travellers, do not 
 need to be told that Florence lies on both sides of the Arno, 
 in a valley shut in by the Apennines, and with a climate 
 acknowledged to be of great average pleasantness, though 
 subject to some sharp variations. By far the larger propor¬ 
 tion, however, lies on the right bank. The walls, said to have 
 been erected at the same time with the Cathedral, between 
 1280 and an hundred years later, have now been removed, 
 
248 
 
 OVER HALF-EUROPE. 
 
 though the three gates—the Porta alia Croce, Porta St. 
 Gallo, and Porta Romano—still remain, with their noble 
 sculptures, to the credit of the local taste. Most of the best 
 residences of what may be called the new town, are also on 
 the right bank of the Arno, extending down to the Cascine, 
 something after the manner of the best Parisian residences 
 studding the Champs Elysees and stretching away toward the 
 Bois de Boulogne. No less than six bridges cross the river ; 
 the most important being the Ponte Vecchio, extending 
 from the Pitti Palace and the Uffizi to the Palazzo Vecchio 
 (“Old Palace”), the Ponte Santa Trinita, and the Ponte alle 
 Grazie. On both sides of the river stretch the Lung Arno 
 (literally “along the Arno”), broad and handsome quays, 
 affording the most delightful of promenades along the river, 
 something like, but far better than either the Quays of Paris 
 or the Victoria Embankment of London. It remains to be- 
 added, as of the first consequence in locating the leading 
 buildings of interest, that the Duomo, the Piazza della Sig- 
 noria, the Palazzo Vecchio, the Uffizi, Santa Croce, and the 
 matchless Church of San Lorenzo, with most of the other 
 curiosities first attracting the traveller, are on the right or 
 main bank of the Arno, while the Pitti Palace and the Boboli 
 Gardens are on the left or minor bank. 
 
 And now a word of the history of Florence, which may be 
 said to date back to the last century before Christ, and to a 
 foundation by the Romans. It has necessarily taken part in 
 most of the political changes of the peninsula, made wars and 
 endured them, been ridden over and ridden over others, with 
 the usual freedom of important cities in what we call the 
 Middle Ages. Of most consequence, however, is the fact 
 that in the fifteenth century the wealthy commercial family of 
 the Medici developed itself into rank and power, establishing 
 a name and an influence that the ages have been powerless to 
 dim. First Giovanni (John) ; then Cosmo, his son; then 
 Peter, son of the last-named ; then Lorenzo, surnamed the 
 Magnificent, ruled Florence, in what may be considered its 
 palmy days, with a dozen others of their blood more or less 
 
FLORENCE ART AND BRIGANDAGE. 
 
 249 
 
 succeeding, until the extinction of the dynasty by the 
 death of Giovanni Gaston, in 1737. After the Medici, a branch 
 of the Austrian house became Grand Duke of Tuscany, and 
 held that place until the late revolution made it a part of the 
 Kingdom of Italy and with no need of a special local ruler. 
 
 There is no doubt that most of the Medici were quite suffi¬ 
 ciently unpleasant, personally—especially to those who 
 chanced to “run foul of them,” to use a phrase of modern 
 origin—but they were munificent patrons of art; and some¬ 
 thing may be forgiven them, for themselves, and for the bad 
 blood which they gave to France in Catharine and Marie de 
 Medici, for the sake of what they were and did at home. 
 
 But Florence has other prides than those supplied by the 
 Medici. Dante was born here, about 1265. Boccaccio, whose 
 “ Decameron ” has furnished more profitable placers for lit¬ 
 erary “hooking’’ than any other single book in the world, 
 also lived here. Here Machiavelli and Galileo were born, 
 honored, abused and misunderstood. Here originated Giotto, 
 and Brunelleschi, and Ghiberti, and Andrea del Sarto, and 
 Leonardo da Vinci, and Michael Angelo, and so many others 
 of only lesser fame that to recite their names would be to tell 
 over the history of half the art of Eurone. 
 
 It is not to be supposed that either the Colonel or the Gov¬ 
 ernor informed themselves on these points of history or 
 geography, during their brief sojourn in Florence. They did 
 locate both, however, to a very respectable degree. 
 
 Naturally, the first drift of the travellers was to the Duomo, 
 Santa Maria del Fiore, standing, a glory of white, black and 
 colored marble, on the Piazza del Duomo, only a step from the 
 broad Via Calzazoli. They were a little crushed (who could 
 be otherwise ?) under Brunelleschi’s Dome, though they found 
 it impossible to realize that it was the largest in the world ; 
 and they shared in the general impression that the Cathedral, 
 if ever the facade should be finished, as it has not been in 
 three hundred years of waiting for the white marble casing, 
 would be among the grandest of the earth. But their eyes 
 did not long linger on the Duomo, in the presence of the 
 
250 
 
 O VER HALF-E UR OPE. 
 
 Campanile, thrusting up its three hundred feet of Giotto's 
 splendid decorated architecture into the sunlit Italian air, and 
 making one fancy that it must have been dreamed instead of 
 builded, to have that atmosphere of glorious unreality. And 
 they quite agreed with Michael Angelo, that Ghiberti's won¬ 
 drous bronze doors of the Baptistry were -‘worthy of Paradise," 
 though they might not have thought of the fact but for that 
 authoritative statement. Then they strolled to San Lorenzo, 
 only a little distance away, up the Via Pucci, and stood in the 
 veritable presence of that same Michael Angelo, as they had 
 never expected to do on the lower earth. In the vaults, in 
 the crypt below, lie all that was mortal of the Medici; but 
 in the church above are the most royal entombments that 
 the world has ever known, of the Grand Dukes Cosmo, Alex¬ 
 ander, and others, with the arms of Tuscan families in splen¬ 
 did stone mosaics ; and under a noble dome, with frescoes by 
 Benvenuto, andHapestries of “Joseph and Potiphar's wife,” 
 and other Scriptural subjects, are the tombs of Dukes Ferdi¬ 
 nand and Cosmo the Great, with statues that would elsewhere 
 be inconceivable, and all the colored marbles ever before seen 
 seeming to be mere preparations for this crowning glory. 
 
 But all this was of itself only preparatory. For after a time 
 the travellers came to the New Sacristy, and to the tombs of 
 Lorenzo the Magnificent and Guiliano de Medici. The great 
 hand of Michael Angelo Buonarotti has touched both, and 
 they are matchless as immortal. The tomb of Lorenzo has 
 those wonderful twin glories in stone, the “Day” and “ Night ” 
 of the great master, before which so many ages have bowed in 
 something approaching to adoration. In the Medician chapel, 
 which was built with the intention of stealing away the Holy 
 Sepulchre from Jerusalem and here placing it, may be seen 
 such studding of tombs and walls with precious stones, and 
 such quartering of armorial bearings in costly mosaics, as the 
 modern mind cannot easily take in as a reality, until the 
 remembrance comes up of that droll genius who considered 
 losing friends as rather preferable to keeping them, with 
 proper opportunities for burying them in due splendor. 
 
FLORENCE ART AND BRIGANDAGE. 
 
 251 
 
 Certainly the pomp of death is here exhausted ; and it is even 
 a relief to look up to Benvenuto's frescoes of the Last Judg¬ 
 ment, and similar awful grandeurs in color. 
 
 But San Lorenzo and the tombs of the Medici must not de¬ 
 tain us longer from what may be called the “ Heart of Flor¬ 
 ence," quite as truly as St. Giles the “ Heart of Mid Lo¬ 
 thian." Very near the Arno stands the wonderful cluster 
 that must be despatched with so few words. Here, in the very 
 centre of the business portion of Florence, is the Piazza del 
 Gran’ Duca (apparently identical with the Piazza della Sig- 
 noria); and here, at the doorway of the Palazzo Vecchio, 
 opening off it, is Michael Angelo’s “ David,” perhaps to-day, 
 though the sculptor was only twenty-five when he chiselled 
 it, the noblest ideal ever conceived of the Minstrel King. And 
 here is the “ Lion ” of Donatello, on the very spot where Sav- 
 anarola met his cruel death by the flame ; and near it stands 
 a noble equestrian “ Cosmo I.,” by John of Bologna, the most 
 nervous of all modellers ; and a charming “ Fountain of Nep¬ 
 tune,” by Ommanati, rounds the list if it does not complete it. 
 And under this exquisite Loggia di Lanza, a portico itself com¬ 
 manding the applause of a world in architecture, are some 
 noble sculptures, “ Judeth Slaying Holofernes,” and a “ Dying 
 Gladiator,” which we must pass with only a glance or never 
 reach the inner goal. 
 
 It was into the Uffizi Gallery that the Colonel and the 
 Governor entered from the Piazza and the Loggia, and it was 
 here that they found, perhaps, the very best gems of art 
 gathered within the same space in the world. Names ? No, 
 they cannot be given. And works ? No, they cannot be enu¬ 
 merated. Did they not see in the Tribune of this art-honored 
 building the original ‘‘Venus de Medici,” small looking and 
 brown with age, but with a modesty in bearing and a nobility 
 in conception, as well as a womanly softness in the eyes, mar¬ 
 vellous in marble, impossible to copy, and commanding the 
 despairing applause of the sculptors of all time? And 
 Raphael’s “ Fornarina,” unquestionably the warmest breath¬ 
 ing woman still pure, ever extended upon canvas? And 
 
O VER HA LF E UR OPE. 
 
 Titian’s “ Reclining Venuses ” (two of them, one without), 
 equally beyond question the most voluptuously beautiful of all 
 the productions of that painter’s pencil ? And the “ Slave 
 Whetting the Knife,” in which the whole story of involuntary 
 servitude and its result is told, and from which America might 
 have learned a lesson without waiting to sacrifice a million of 
 lives in decyphering it ? And did they not see (here or herea¬ 
 bouts) Gerardo Dell’ Notti’s “Adoration of the Shepherds,” 
 and another “Adoration ” by the same hand, matchless in the 
 soft luminosity of their upward lights? And the “Madonna 
 Seggiola,” in color the rival of the Venus de Medici in shape"? 
 And a bust of “ Lorenzo the Magnificent,” looking indefinably 
 bold and cruel as well as proud,, and leading to the question 
 whether in the old time (of course it is not so in this period) 
 all power was accompanied by the worse passion? And were 
 they not literally blinded by the array of shape and color suc¬ 
 ceeding, so as neither to know names nor care for them ? And 
 were they not completely dazzled next, and made idolators, in 
 the Gem Room, with all the precious stones and shapen metals 
 of all the world, by the world’s greatest artists ? And then, 
 with only half the wonders of the Uffizi seen, and only a tenth 
 understood, did they not cross the Arno by the Ponte Vecchio, 
 nearly a mile in length, the covered corridor lined the whole 
 distance with the portraits of the Medici, and with square 
 acres of the finest of old tapestries ? And then, with only time 
 for the benefit of glances out at the Boboli Gardens, where 
 poor Willis used to locate so many of his pretty fancies in the 
 days when there was a Grand Duke of Tuscany and a court 
 in Florence, were they not in the Pitti Palace and in the 
 midst of another bewildering display of the art of all lands and 
 all ages ? 
 
 It must have been from a little of the “ Keramic Kraze,” 
 that the Colonel here fell rapturously in love with a great 
 blue-and-gold Sevres vase, of such proportions that one 
 might easily have drowned in it—and with a porphyry vase no 
 less than twelve feet across—declaring his intention to elope 
 with them. The Governor, meanwhile, was making love to 
 
FLORENCE ART AND BRIGANDAGE. 
 
 253 
 
 the magnificent galleries, with their heavy white-and-gold 
 cornices and ceilings—until he came upon No. 67, Titian's 
 matchless “ Magdalen,” with the upcast eyes, the rounded 
 bosom, and the sweeps of fair hair literally rippling across the 
 breast in changing lights of silver and gold. Then and there¬ 
 upon he declined to see anything else, pronouncing this pic¬ 
 ture one of the crowning glories of the earth, with the hair 
 something to net and enmesh the hearts of all beholders. 
 Thanks to a second thought, he eventually paid due attention 
 to Murillo’s “ Holy Families,” and once more marked how that 
 painter outdid the world in color, in peasant grace, and the 
 very joy of humanity, but how surely there was not a spark of 
 the spiritual in him and no divine influence ever radiated 
 from one of his infant Saviours. 
 
 This was but little of Florence—who does not know it ? 
 But what would you ? Time pressed, and they could not do 
 all the fair city and its suburbs They could look up, and 
 they did, to see Fiesole on its hills, and to think and talk of 
 the rustling leaves of dimly visible Vallambrosa, and know 
 that somewhere in that region, within sound of the bells of 
 Florence, was laid the scene of the retreat from the Plague, 
 and the marvellous recitals of the “ Decameron.” And 
 yonder, at only a little distance, within the city, was Santa 
 Croce, with the burial urns of so many of the great dead that 
 its name has became a synonym for glorious burial ; and with 
 the monument of Michael Angelo, surrounded by the three 
 figures of Painting, Sculpture and Architecture as his 
 mourners ; with some of the Stuarts and some of the Bona- 
 partes sleeping there, as well as many other people quite 
 secondary to untitled genius. And somewhere in the old city 
 was Casa Guidi, where Mrs. Browning wrote the “Casa 
 Guidi Windows” and added many of the best gems to a 
 crown that can lose no jot of its brilliancy while time endures— 
 somewhere in the old city, but where, for the hurried and 
 unguided traveller ? 
 
 And there were studios, ay, and some of them studios of 
 honored Americans, away over yonder, beyond the Porta 
 
254 
 
 OVER HALF-EUROPE. 
 
 Romana and along the Via Farinata, where they might have 
 supped with memories of Powers and with the living Ball and 
 others—and seen once more the strange old tower where Haw¬ 
 thorne wrote the “ Marble Faun,” that the English have 
 crazed into “ Transfiguration.” But, once more, what would 
 you ? They could not. They could only wander a little down 
 the Lung Arno, as their last evening fell, and breathe the fra¬ 
 grant piny air that holds the one perfume worth living for, 
 and see the curved lines of lights along the quiet river, with the 
 moon high above, and all the combinations of evening beauty. 
 They could only join, in a mild way, in the gayety of the 
 Cascine and its habitues ; and listen a little to the music, 
 “ nothing if not Italianand buy a few slices of watermelon 
 of the vendor, doubting all the while if they were quite equal 
 to the best at Fulton Market ; and then—something more, 
 which may explain at least half the heading of this paper. 
 
 It was well along in the evening, probably later than either 
 the Governor or the Colonel knew—possibly in the neighbor¬ 
 hood of midnight. The crowd of pleasure seekers in the Cas¬ 
 cine had thinned somewhat, and many of the people gone 
 homeward—or elsewhere. But the moon, only a little past 
 the full, had just risen to its glory, and was shining from across 
 the Arno with the light of a dimmer but glorified day. The 
 breeze came refreshingly, also, from across the river, little 
 amount of water as there was to cool it; and the cicadas made 
 such a tangle of chirping music from the trees that it seemed 
 an undertone to every word spoken. 
 
 Neither of the parties in this purview had any fancy for the 
 bed—the experience of the previous night not having been 
 peculiarly pleasant, what with the heat and some other char¬ 
 acteristics of their hotel (which may as well remain nameless) 
 more stable than agreeable. So they walked on down the Lung 
 Arno, at near the bank of the river, seldom speaking, and 
 merely enjoying that delicious scene and the more delicious 
 moonlight all the better for the silence. After a time they 
 were entirely beyond the Cascine proper, and the few voices 
 of those remaining there died away behind them. Still they 
 
FLORENCE ART AND BRIGANDAGE. 
 
 255 
 
 went on, gradually, though without being quite aware of the 
 fact, edging away a little from the river, where he trees seemed 
 to be more thinly “scattered than on the very bank. And so 
 they went on, for how long or how far neither can say, but 
 probably until they were three-quarters of a mile, or a mile, 
 beyond any part of the Cascine frequented by the evening 
 visitors. 
 
 Then, still walking on in silence, they were partially aroused 
 by a silver flash in front of them, and saw that they had curved 
 again in their walk, so as to be once more at near the river- 
 bank, or that the river had curved round to meet them. A few 
 yards farther, and the ground descended a trifle, into a sort of 
 dell, over which the trees threw so thick a shade that the 
 moon was almost totally excluded. Here and there a glint 
 came through, however, like an actual lance of light. 
 
 They were nearly in the middle of this dusky belt when a dark 
 figure darted up from a few feet at the left and stepped out 
 into the path, stopping there. At the next instant, another 
 made its appearance from the right, and acted similarly. And 
 then another and another made like appearances, until at 
 least five or six (the number is not too sure) made a sort of 
 line across the road. 
 
 Which of the two recognized the omens of the situation 
 first, is not certain. Probably both saw, at nearly the same 
 moment, that they had been guilty of a gross imprudence, to 
 wander so far away into the wood from an Italian city, at 
 midnight. They were in for it, beyond a question. There was 
 but one thing certain : they were in the hands of half-a-dozen 
 (more or less) of brigands, of however mild and modern a 
 type. Whatever the thoughts of the Colonel, the Governor 
 realized all this after a moment, and stood still to consider. 
 Without arms- 
 
 Up to that moment, he had not remembered what he carried 
 in his hand—the miserable little purchase of Ferrara. But 
 what good, even that, against such odds, and the number no 
 doubt armed? Armed? Yes, indeed they were, for a knife 
 gleamed in the moonlight, and the sight was not a pleasant one. 
 
OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 256 
 
 Just then something else gleamed. With an oath that need 
 not be recorded, the Colonel jerked his dirk from its sword- 
 stick, as it chanced, just under one of the lines of light. It 
 flashed so sharply that the Governor’s eyes caught the gleam 
 like a blaze. Then he remembered that his own tooth-pick 
 had a sort of a glitter, and jerked it from the cane. Another 
 flash, presumably, to more eyes than those of the two com¬ 
 panions. 
 
 For in the next instant, of all those figures, there was not 
 one within sight. If they had appeared very suddenly, they 
 had disappeared with even more celerity. Whether the 
 ground had swallowed them, or they had managed to dodge 
 behind trees and into the thickest shade with a quickness 
 beyond all calculation, neither the Colonel or the Governor 
 knew, nor have they ever known. But they knew, the next 
 moment, as without a word more they turned and walked 
 back toward Florence, that they had nearly witnessed a little 
 of the mild brigandage under which Italy still suffers when 
 the place and circumstances are favorable to it—and that 
 probably nothing saved them from a very much worse adven¬ 
 ture, except the flash of those two swords in the moonlight, 
 in the eyes of half-a-dozen of those diluted robbers who had 
 no fancy for purses if they were to be accompanied by cold 
 steel ! 
 
 “ Robbers ? Yes, of course they were robbers !” replied an 
 American resident, questioned on the point the next morning. 
 “And you came off very well, thanks to what you carried, 
 and the moonlight, no doubt! That distance below the 
 Cascine, at midnight, is more romantic than safe, let me tell 
 you ; and it would be even less safe if the fellows were not 
 cowards in the face of anything looking like a sword or 
 snapping like the cocking of a revolver.” 
 
2 £ 2 £ 2 £. 
 
 VERONA; AND OVER THE BRENNER. 
 
 “ There is nothing to see in Verona,” said a casual acquaint¬ 
 ance to the Governor, in the railway train between Bologna 
 and the city of the North, when the official had expressed a 
 half intention of stopping over there for a few hours. 
 
 “ Nothing ?” 
 
 “ Well, next to nothing. Let me see ; there is some kind of 
 a tumble-down old Roman building there, I believe; and yes, 
 Shakespeare wrote something about it: what was it? Oh, the 
 ‘Two Gentlemen of Verona.’ I would scarcely stop over, I 
 think, for that.” 
 
 From that instant the pause at Verona, if before doubtful, 
 was determined upon ; for let it be said that the Governor has 
 never yet been known to float down stream when it was pos¬ 
 sible to swim up, To be informed that “there was nothing to 
 see at Verona” was to become at once impressed that it must 
 be one of the most interesting places on earth. So the ac¬ 
 quaintance terminated, at least for the time, by that special 
 traveler “ stopping over ” at Verona and allowing his acquaint¬ 
 ance to go on at once to Trent and Innspruck. 
 
 “ Nothing to see ” was it! Probably there are not really 
 more than four or five spots on earth, covering no more space, 
 better worth the expenditure of at least a few hours, than 
 Verona. And this which follows is what he saw, was told, and 
 thought, during the few hours succeeding that conversation. 
 
 Nothing to see, was there ? If there had been nothing else, 
 it was worth something to catch the first sight of the Adige, 
 to be afterwards followed at some length under that and a dif¬ 
 ferent name. The Adige, forming as complete and perfect a 
 letter S in its passage through the town, as that formed by the 
 Grand Canal at Venice—only with the marked difference that 
 it was not reversed. A rather turbid river, of good width and 
 somewhat rapid current, crossed by some half a dozen of 
 
258 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 bridges, the most important, except the railway bridge, lying 
 at near the centre of the town. Then the fortifications, which 
 are modern and equally beautiful and formidable, Verona be¬ 
 ing one of the famous cities of the “ Quadrilateral,’’ so much 
 talked of when Italy and Austria were fighting that long bat¬ 
 tle for and against freedom. The military mind of the Gover¬ 
 nor had much pleasure in examining them and pronouncing 
 them very perfect in their environment and defence of the 
 town, until an official, observing him with a note-book and 
 pencil, gave him notice that no making drawings of the works 
 was allowed, and that he had better move on. At least this is 
 supposed to have been what he said : the Governor, whose 
 Italian is the reverse of perfect, is not too sure. He “ moved 
 on,” however, and having by that time become additionally im¬ 
 pressed with the military spirit, went away to another fortifi¬ 
 cation, something older, and built by hands sometime mould¬ 
 ered away to dust—the Amphitheatre. 
 
 Seriously, Verona, in this detail, has a remain quite equal 
 to the Coliseum at Rome—much more perfect, if lacking in 
 the immense size of its rival. It stands on the Piazza Vit¬ 
 torio Emmanuele, not far from what is now the centre of the 
 city. Traditionally, the Amphitheatre is said to have been 
 built by the Emperor Diocletian, in A. D., 284. It was cer¬ 
 tainly “ sat upon” (to use a modern phrase) by a greater than 
 he, in 1805 ; for there is a vain-glorious inscription on it, 
 noting the repairs made by Napoleon, when Italy formed only 
 a small part of his conquered world. It has been 546 feet 
 long, by 436 feet wide, with a height of 106 feet, and the size 
 of the arena of combat 239 feet by 141. No less than forty- 
 five tiers of seats surround the arena; and it is estimated that 
 as many as 35.000 spectators may at once have enjoyed what¬ 
 ever attractive spectacle of blood was there presented. Of 
 the outer wall, two-storied and pierced with round-headed 
 arches, only a portion remains, black with age, as it may well 
 be. Within, all is nearly perfect; and some of the arrange¬ 
 ments for caging and letting out the beasts remain ; so that if 
 another Diocletian should ever want a Coliseum for combats, 
 
VERONA, AND THE BRENNER. 
 
 259 
 
 in Italy, he can come nearer to finding it at Verona than else¬ 
 where. It is doubtful, all things considered, if there is a more 
 perfect or more interesting Roman relic on earth ; and any 
 one who passes Verona without visiting it, loses one of the 
 opportunities of a lifetime. 
 
 So much for the Romans, in this connection : now for some¬ 
 thing very different, or not very different, as the case may be ! 
 No remains of any of the scenes or characters of the “Two 
 Gentlemen of Verona” are alleged to exist; but the tomb of 
 Juliet is shown in a side chapel of what was once an old Fran¬ 
 ciscan Monastery ; and after that, who can doubt the veracity 
 of Shakspeare’s very best love-play, “ Romeo and Juliet ?” 
 The fact that this battered old trough was evidently once a 
 Roman sarcophagus, a thousand years old when Juliet is 
 alleged to have lived, does not affect the case to any extent. 
 The miserable old remain will continue to be shown, and its 
 genuineness will continue to be certified to (for a few cop¬ 
 pers)—what more can be desired, or what more demanded ? 
 
 Is the Governor, then, a disbeliever in the Sbakspeare 
 memorials of Verona, after endorsing those of Venice ? 
 Perish the thought! No—he believes in them ; all of theny 
 at least, not too difficult to swallow: he cannot deglutate a 
 Roman sarcophagus of red Verona marble, even for Juliet 
 and the immortal genius who recalled her into being under 
 that name. For the story of “Romeo and Juliet” was not 
 original with Shakspeare : only touched by him with the fin¬ 
 ger of supreme genius, to be no more forgotten forever, while 
 the thousand-and-one of similar interest, not thus touched, die 
 with the leaves of their year. There is an old and narrow 
 house in the Strada San Sebastian (said to have been once 
 the Strada Capelletti) where the hat which formed the cogni¬ 
 zance of the Montagues still hangs over the entrance door. 
 It is called the house of Juliet’s family ; and any one may see it 
 who will—as also learn from the local legends that the date of 
 the tragedy was no further back than the fourteenth century, 
 when the Scaligers ruled Verona, the “ Escalus, Prince of 
 Verona,” of the play, having been Bartolomeo della Scala 
 
 18 
 
260 
 
 O VER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 (Scaliger), then in power. But any one may not chance to 
 have the exceptional fortune of the Governor, and to be in¬ 
 troduced into that house and into the bedchamber of Juliet. 
 
 The official was laughing, somewhat sardonically, at the 
 so-called Tomb of Juliet, when a gentlemen resident in the 
 city (one “gentleman of Verona,” not two!) came up and 
 accosted him. “ You are right,” the gentleman said, speaking 
 in broken English, all the more melodious for having a touch 
 of the bocca Toscana in it. “You are right: that is not Juliet’s 
 tomb, nor has it any claim to be so called. But there are 
 realities of that story in Verona. You know that the story was 
 a real one, I doubt not!” The Governor assented to that 
 knowledge, and the gentleman went on. “There is a house, 
 not far away, which is said to have been, and probably was, 
 the residence of the Capulets, Juliet’s parents. Many people 
 see it. But there is another, with the hat over the door, as 
 well; and if you will go with me there, I will show you some¬ 
 thing worth your seeing.” 
 
 Only too thankful, the Governor accompanied, the two ex¬ 
 changing a few words on the way, but nothing with reference 
 to the tragedy. At perhaps a quarter of a mile distance, in a 
 somewhat narrow street, the gentleman stopped at a door 
 where certainly hung emblazoned the hat of the Capulets, and 
 knocked. It was opened, and the Governor noticed that the 
 female servant, seeing his companion, bowed very low. Some 
 words passed between them, in Italian (not here given, for rea¬ 
 sons obvious to any one who reads of the Guardina Cova, at 
 Milan); then the gentleman motioned to his companion to enter; 
 both did so, and the door closed. The chaperon conducted 
 his protege through a somewhat long passage, threw open a 
 door, and showed him into a small chamber, with two diminu¬ 
 tive windows, and a bed, with white curtains, recessed into the 
 wall. The room was papered after the modern fashion, but 
 showed extreme age in its building and arrangement. The 
 recess was formed in a round-headed arch extending to the 
 floor; and between the partially drawn curtains showed a 
 narrow bed, with a background like the wall. 
 
VERONA, AND THE BRENNER. 
 
 261 
 
 '‘This,” said the gentleman, drawing back the white cur¬ 
 tains with the care of handling anything sacred, “ was the 
 residence of the Capulefs at the time when the marriage and 
 death of their daughter occurred ; and this bedchamber and 
 framework of bed, as I have the best of reasons for being 
 assured, were those of Juliet while still residing in the house 
 of her kindred.” 
 
 Very, very old—the recess, the bed frame, and all belonging 
 to it—very old, everything but the paper on the walls. Who 
 the gentleman was, the Governor had, and has, no means of 
 ascertaining, though he is satisfied that he was a man of 
 mark. There seemed no motive for deception ; and the 
 fact remains that undoubtedly, with what he considered 
 good reason, he believed that bed-frame to have borne the 
 couch of Juliet, and perhaps the little and very old glass of 
 chamfered Venetian make, on the wall, to have mirrored that 
 young face many a morning. Is there any reason why the 
 Governor should not so believe, likewise ? None—he does so 
 believe. He believes that in that little old chamber he really 
 stood beside the coved recess where, in her maiden innocence, 
 slept the type of the Italian love-girl so famous over all the 
 world. And so believing, he smiled a little as he left the old 
 city on the Adige an hour later, at the assertion of his chance- 
 met friend of the morning, “ that there was nothing to see 
 in Verona.” 
 
 The departure for the North, over the Brenner Railway, was 
 made' at a little after two P. M. the same day. (See how 
 much can be crowded within a few hours, when the traveller is 
 very ardent and very much in a hurry !) The road lay along 
 the Adige, as it was to follow it under that name and as the 
 Etsch, all the way to Botzen. Very soon after leaving Verona, 
 came into view Lago de Garda, much the largest of the Italian 
 lakes, and quite the equal of any of them in beauty—perhaps, 
 some day when the law of comparisons becdmes more 
 thoroughly understood, to be reckoned the only rival in the 
 world to California’s Lake Tahoe, which it somewhat resem¬ 
 bles in the rising of the great peaks behind it, northward and 
 
262 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 westward, and the intense blueness of water that apparently 
 might save the laundress any outlay for indigo. It was 
 gloriously beautiful,that summer afternoon, mountain-hemmed, 
 flashing under a fresh breeze, and seeming to lend life and 
 activity to the whole landscape. 
 
 Before four o’clock that afternoon, past Pescantini, Dome- 
 gliari, Peri, &c., the Governor was bidding regretful farewell to 
 Italy, which had shown him so much in so few days, and at 
 the little station of Ala was entering the Austrian Tyrol, ot 
 which the western mountains had shown so grandly a few 
 days before from the Lake of Constance. He was also 
 entering that Grand Pass of the Lower Tyrol, extending all 
 the way to Innspruck, and retaining its picturesque charm 
 throughout. Poetry, meanwhile, came to a renewed recog¬ 
 nition, not very long after entering on the travel of the 
 afternoon, in a glimpse of an old Castle, east of the railway, 
 near Lizzana, in which Dante resided in the first two or three 
 years of the fourteenth century, when exiled from Florence for 
 his attachment to the Ghibellines ; and the thought would 
 obtrude that, barring the feeling of exile, such a residence would 
 not be an unwelcome one for many a poet who had never 
 become mixed up with any political troubles whatever! 
 
 At five the train was at the station of Trent (German 
 “ Trient ”), broadly bosomed away among the rugged hills, and 
 showing not many details from the road, little more than a 
 glimpse being caught of the old Castle Buon Consiglio, rising 
 over the town, once an archiepiscopal residence, now a cavalry 
 barracks, and lower, of the towers of the Cathedral, and of 
 the Church of Santa Maria Maggiore, where the Council of 
 Trent, almost as noted as that of Constance, and more influ¬ 
 ential on the doctrines of the Church, sat with small intermis¬ 
 sion through the eighteen years from 1545 to 1563, leading 
 more than once to a half-determination on the part of some 
 crowned head to break it up by force if it could never come 
 to an end in any other way. However, the Council of Trent 
 rules no longer, at least on the railways; and the travellers 
 
VERONA , AND THE BRENNER. 
 
 263 
 
 were not even examined as to their religious belief (some of 
 them might have fared badly if they had been !) before speed¬ 
 ing away up the Tyrol. 
 
 Beyond Trent, very soon the sides of the road assumed a 
 feature specially characteristic of the region—the rocks very 
 high, upright, and forming a sort of continuous line, although 
 jagged : after the manner of the Palisades of Ihe Hudson. 
 Along the cultivated portions of the route—many of them 
 small patches and little more—the cornfield and the vine 
 became the ruling features. The Adige changed to be the 
 Etsch, became more and more rapid and riotous, and showed 
 more and more the fact that it was in rapid descent. Night 
 was coming on ; but even without that cause, the weather was 
 cooling rapidly, in the ascent of the gorges of the Tyrol; and 
 now and again, ahead, the snow-peaks began to show in the 
 distance and to add one more ennobling feature to what was 
 all the while full of interest and wild beauty. 
 
 At seven they were at Botzen, well up in the pass, as had 
 been for some time indicated by the laboring breath of the 
 engine. A fine old town, visible even in the coming dusk, 
 with the aid of the rising moon, only a little past the full. In 
 the Middle Ages, the great entrepot of all the commerce 
 between Venice and the North, and even now the chief com¬ 
 mercial town ot the Tyrol. One feature of interest showed 
 Itself, even from the train—the splendid open-work tower of 
 the Gothic Parish Church, said to date back to the 14th 
 Century, and this detail and the tesselated roof certainly 
 wonderfully handsome. Here commenced the Eisack River, 
 at Botzen forming a junction with the Talfer, and the two flow¬ 
 ing away to become the Etsch and the Adige ; and here com¬ 
 menced even grander developments of the Tyrolese scenery, 
 with some of the tar peaks of the Dolomite Mountains showing 
 white and needle-like northwestward. 
 
 It was well along in the night, and the moon high in heaven, 
 making another day. The train had passed Atzwang, Klausen, 
 Brixen, and Franzensfeste, and they were running along the 
 really tremendous palisaded Valley of the Eisack, between the 
 
264 
 
 OVER HALF EUROPE. 
 
 latter place and Sterzing, when the Governor saw what he 
 has since found to be an actual culmination of Tyrolese 
 scenery, equally odd and impressive, in the awful height of 
 the palisading rocks, with towers covering them in many 
 places, at the very thought of climbing to one of which the 
 unaccustomed mind makes the whole body shudder,—and 
 when he heard from the lips of a fellow-traveller one of those 
 legends which give the very flavor of romance to so many of 
 those old passes and their strongholds. At the time, they 
 were running along immediately under a range of those 
 perpendicular rocks, at the left, lifting themselves not less 
 than a thousand or fifteen hundred feet directly over the 
 valley ; and at one point a large square old tower stood at the 
 very edge, at the extreme top, seeming to line with the face of 
 the rock. The thought of residence there, and of opening a 
 window over the descent, seemed maddening. The Governor 
 said so much to his travelling companion. 
 
 “Yes,” was the reply. “ And, by the way, that tower, and 
 the face of it at which we are looking, had a window opened, 
 once, to some effect. An unwilling bride was taken by her 
 enforced bridegroom to a bridal-chamber in one of those 
 rooms. What occurred during the night, no one ever knew, 
 though many guessed. In the morning a gibbering maniac 
 woman sat on the side of the bed, when some of the alarmed 
 family forced open the door of the room. One of the windows 
 was open, and the bridegroom was gone. They found him, in 
 very small pieces, at the foot of the rocks, more than a thou¬ 
 sand feet below ; and no one doubted that, seizing the oppor¬ 
 tunity of his having gone to the window and opened it, at 
 some time during the night, she had pushed him out headlong. 
 Horrible, was it not?” 
 
 “ Horrible ! Yes, and just, if the whole story is truly told,” 
 replied the Governor. "Moral: Don’t force women, to 
 marriage or to anything else ! It seldom pays.” 
 
 There was only a moonlight glimpse, a weird and half unreal 
 one, to be caught of Sterzing, which is said to have some fine 
 old picturesque buildings and arcades. Better views were 
 
VERONA, AND THE BRENNER 
 
 265 
 
 caught, however, just before reaching it, of no less than 
 three old castles, their similarity of termination in names 
 showing the German favorite synonym for “ castle ”— “stein.” 
 These weie Welfenstein, Reifenstein, and Sprechenstein ; and 
 they might all have been robber holds, from their appearance, 
 and probably were so, in days not very long passed away. 
 Also before reaching Sterzing, when in the narrow pass or 
 defile, near Mittwald, called since 1809, the “ Sachsensklemme,” 
 (Saxon’s Chasm), a reminder of much more modern and 
 bloodier history came, in the knowledge that in this pass, so 
 dark and gloomy as almost equally to shut away moonlight 
 and daylight, Napoleon’s Marshal, Lefebvre, Duke of Dant- 
 zig, was defeated by the Tyrolese in that year, half his army 
 slaughtered, and some thousand of his Saxon troops taken 
 prisoners. 
 
 Through a long curved tunnel, after leaving Sterzing, and 
 over so many other curves that they seemed capable of con¬ 
 fusing the engine ; and then through a succession of wild 
 scenery (said to be magnificent in the daylight), Brenner was 
 reached—the top of the pass, and the watershed between the 
 Adriatic and the Black Sea—the Sill running northward, to 
 the Inn and the larger rivers of Poland ; and the Eisack 
 taking its course back to the Adige, the Adriatic and the 
 Mediterranean. 
 
 Here a sensation. It had been raining heavily, a day or 
 two before, on the Tyrol, however dry in some other sections 
 ot the Continent. Part of the track, beyond Brenner, and 
 past the little green lake, the Brenner See, had been washed 
 away ; and sufficient time had not yet been given to re-lay it. 
 How long before it would be laid ? A day, at least. What had 
 been done, already? Oh, the roadbed had been repaired 
 and the iron rails laid down over the deep ravine of the Sill, 
 but they were unfastened, and they could not be fastened 
 before well along the next day. Humph ! that day’s delay 
 would cost several of the passengers by the train their appoint¬ 
 ments, and at least two of them their steamers at Liverpool! 
 What was to be done ! what could be done ? Listen ! A prop- 
 
266 
 
 O VER HALF E UR OPE. 
 
 osition to the engineer, and made by an American. “Take 
 us down that pass, if you dare!’’ “What?—with the rails 
 unfastened and that fearful depth beneath? Do you under¬ 
 stand what you ask?” “ Perfectly, we cannot wait, and we 
 must go on.” “No.” “ If I procure you the voices of every 
 
 person on the train, and if we give you (never mind what sum), 
 how then ? ” “ Then ” with the pause of a moment for thought 
 —“ then, yes.” 
 
 Fifteen minutes later, the voices of every one of the forty- 
 seven on the train, with the exception of two who preferred 
 remaining over at Brenner, were obtained ; and ten minutes 
 still later, the train was on the way—where, not even the 
 engineer knew. How far the track was in that condition, the 
 Governor did not know, and did not care to enquire. It is 
 enough to state that the view down into the five or seven 
 hundred feet of the Sill ravine, at the very edge, and with the 
 knowledge that no nail held iron to wood, was somewhat ex- 
 citinv, not to say startling. But, though some breaths may 
 have been held for a time, no accident occurred ; and without 
 many minutes passed in the suspense of an undeniable and fear¬ 
 ful risk, that risk was mastered. The full speed of the train 
 was resumed ; and it rushed on through tunnels and over em¬ 
 bankments of much picturequeness, along the Schirmer Thai, 
 by Steinach, and Matrey, through the great tunnel of Isel, 
 and past the very old Abbey of Wiltau. Some of the last 
 objects were becoming clearer in the light of the early dawn, 
 as they rushed and rumbled into Innspruck, with the passage 
 of the Brenner proper accomplished, and only plain rail, 
 through whatever noble scenery, lying between them and the 
 options of Vienna, Munich or the West. 
 
RETURNING TO TPIE PARIS EXPOSITION—THE 
 TROC-ADERO. 
 
 It now becomes necessary to return from indiscriminate 
 wanderings about Europe, to the Exposition at Paris, in 
 which all the opportunity originated, and from which all the 
 foregoing excursions maybe said to have been made. All the 
 account of the Opening of the Exposition, and all the attempts 
 at description of the buildings, it will be remembered, came 
 from the pen of that habitual victim to the Governor, “ Our 
 Boy Tommy.” For the following, and much closer dealing 
 with the Exposition, the Governor himself is responsible ; 
 though it is possible that “ Tommy ” may be once more forced 
 into service, in the description of some of the events con¬ 
 nected with it, occurring long after the Governor’s departure 
 from Paris, and, indeed, after all the earlier portions of the 
 work had assumed shape. 
 
 The “ return ” was made from the South, as some of the 
 previous papers may indicate. It is of no consequence, and 
 does not involve the possibility of any description, if it 
 occurred by means of a run from Milan and Turin, by Susa, 
 through the temporary gloom but extraordinary speed and 
 time-saving of the Mount Ccnis Tunnel, and thence through 
 the Maurienne Valley of Savoy, by Culoz, Bourg, Macon, 
 Dijon, Tonnerre, Montereau, and all that long and pleasant 
 route of the Paris, Lyons and Mediterranean Railway, to the 
 spot most completely opposed to all the late experiences, 
 and one more and longer glimpse at the great world’s 
 gathering. 
 
 In his earlier visit to Paris and the Exposition, the Gover¬ 
 nor, be it understood, had done somewhat of that “putting 
 the evil day afar off,” said to be characteristic of the luxury- 
 loving and the self-indulgent. He had gone into the sacred 
 grounds—true ; into both the Palaces, and wandered through 
 
268 
 
 PARIS IjST 78 . 
 
 them, rather aimlessly, and with a sort of impression that the 
 man who should come up to him, in one of the avenues, and 
 say: “Ha! old Governor!—looking at everything, I see!— 
 going to write about it all, eh ?” would at once have been 
 knocked down or treated with other contumely quite as effec¬ 
 tive. Now, the time of self-indulgence was over, and (practical 
 old fellow that he is !) he accepted the necessity with alacrity, 
 if not with effusion. 
 
 One of his first penances, it is true, would have been con¬ 
 sidered a pleasure by many—nothing else than attendance 
 at one of the concerts given in the Salle des Fetes of the 
 Trocadero Palace, in which attendance he had the pleasure of 
 observing some of the peculiarities of this type meeting-place 
 of the world's music-lovers. That he heard some good music, 
 there and then, goes without saying ; as Paris has not the 
 habit of offering second-class entertainments on such occa¬ 
 sions. and the orchestra giving the concert was one of mark, 
 from one of the very homes of musical art. But the eye was 
 feasted, at the same time, quite as much as the mind. For let 
 it be understood that the Salle des Fetes immediately under¬ 
 lies one of the very grandest domes in the world—a consid¬ 
 erable number of feet larger in circumference than that of St. 
 Peter’s at Rome, which used to be considered unequalled in 
 dimensions ; and let it be additionally known that both in the 
 terrace of the second stage, with its wilderness of statuary, 
 and in the auditorium itself, Art has been married to Cost in 
 a manner reflecting the very highest credit on the taste of the 
 age. 
 
 Absolutely something new in the language would be nec¬ 
 essary, so to describe this magnificent music-room as to 
 convey any idea of it to eyes debarred the sight. The im¬ 
 mense size of the dome understood, and all figures carefully 
 avoided, let us say that from all sides, sweeping up to the im¬ 
 mense pierced and leaf-foliated centre of the dome, where 
 slavish following of old precedents might so easily have 
 placed the noble painting next to be noticed, to breaking of the 
 necks of all would-be observers,—are the segments of great 
 
BACK TO PARIS. 
 
 2GD 
 
 arches springing from winged caryatides of colossal size and rich 
 elaboration, the whole forming what they call, architecturally, 
 the “ plafond ; ” that the front of the arch of the proscenium is 
 filled with a noble mural painting by M. Charles Lameire, rep¬ 
 resenting “ France, symbolized as Harmony, receiving the 
 Nations,” displaying the symbolical characteristics of all 
 countries, and itself worth the crossing of an ocean to behold 
 and study; that immensed arched windows, at either side, 
 throw the whole into the broadest light of day, which would 
 be so trying to anything less artistic than the whole concep¬ 
 tion ; that an immense organ fills the extreme rear of what 
 would be the stage in an opera house, with ranges of steps 
 below it for the grouping of artists ; and that, partially from 
 the latter cause, which in some degree seems to round and 
 complete the circle, the idea of the antique amphitheatre is 
 much better carried out than in any other assembly-room for 
 similar purposes ; that some five thousand can be comfortably 
 seated in the elaborate and complete auditorium, with its vari¬ 
 ous ranges, while nearly twice the number can find the tra¬ 
 ditional “ room ; ” that the prevailing colors of the ornamen¬ 
 tation are red and gold, giving an effect of richness impos¬ 
 sible with any other combination ; and that, in short (and 
 conceding that this blundering and imperfect description 
 conve} r s no idea whatever of it) it is to-day unquestionably 
 the noblest, the most tasteful and most thoroughly com¬ 
 plete and convenient concert hall on the globe. Need it 
 be said that all the appointments of this absolute musical 
 temple of the gods have proved, during the summer, worthy 
 of the superb framing? 
 
 On this occasion, and some others which followed, the Gov¬ 
 ernor had also the pleasure of refreshing his memory, and 
 adding a trifle to his knowledge, as to the history of the spot 
 where stands this Trocadero Palace of the Spanish name, 
 destined to play so important a part in future Parisian musical 
 festivities. In this case, instead of Place aux dames! let us 
 say Place a Thistoire / and present a few of those reminders, 
 before proceeding to any additional description of the Palace 
 and the views in it and from it. 
 
270 
 
 PARIS IJST 78 . 
 
 The readers of this work have already been reminded, that 
 at the time of the Exposition of 1867, the Hill of the Trocadero 
 was a naked one leading up to the Place de la Roi de Rome at 
 its apex. Also that the name it bore was derived from that of 
 the great fort at Cadiz, in Spain, some half century ago, in the 
 conflicts of which the French troops and the Duke of Augou- 
 leme took part. Going back very much further, it may be well 
 to know that this hill and the present site of the palace is the 
 spot where stood the little old village of Chaillot (the name 
 said to be derived from the very old Celtic word “ Chail,” sig¬ 
 nifying “the destruction of trees”). It seems to have borne 
 that name so early as the eleventh century; and the history 
 belonging to it appears to have been very varied, as a French 
 writer (from whom we translate) remarks that “ it was succes¬ 
 sively a feudal manor, a royal habitation, then a seignorial and 
 a bourgeoise one, then an abode of pleasure, then an asylum of 
 religious retreat, then a necropolis of dethroned sovereigns, a 
 theatre where the misfortune, the ambition and the glory of 
 different epochs found a refuge and a resting place—such is the 
 history of this corner of Paris.” Clothaire II. gave the lands 
 to the Church of Paris, at the time when it was called “ Nimio.” 
 It was a seigneurie under St. Louis ; and a bourgeoise named 
 Arrode held it and the noble chateau, and became Arrode- 
 Chaillonel, with his descendants Signeurs de Chailleau. Then 
 an advocate of the Parliament of Paris held it; and then a cer¬ 
 tain quasi nobleman, one Guy de Levis, from whose hands it 
 went back to the royal by forfeiture. Louis XI. gave it to 
 Philip de Comines, Sieur d’Argenton and his historian, as part 
 of the reward for leaving the service of Charles the Bold of 
 Burgundy, and entering his own. 
 
 It went from the possession of de Comines, to that of 
 Catherine de Medicis, the Italian widow of Henry II.; and 
 then to that of Bassompierre, Marshal of France, author, and 
 enemy of Richelieu', who threw him into the Bastile. The 
 President Janin held it for a time ; Richelieu resided for a few 
 months in the Chateau, in his time become almost a palace ; 
 a certain Count deTilliere became the owner, and from him it 
 
BACK TO PARIS. 
 
 271 
 
 became the property and asylum of Henrietta Maria, widowed 
 queen of Charles I. of England ; then, after a time, it became 
 the Convent of the Dames of the Visitation ; and here it was 
 that, at the feet of the ladies of that order, poor Louise 
 Duchess de la Valliere threw herself in remorse and peni¬ 
 tence, refusing to return to splendid shame, and becoming 
 Sister Louise de la Misericorde of the Carmelites of the 
 Faubourg St. Jacques. After a long time of this religious 
 occupation, the convent was suppressed during the Revolu¬ 
 tion of 1789; and little by little the old edifice fell into decay 
 and was destroyed. Napoleon I., at the height of the glory of 
 his empire, determined to build on the site a palace for his 
 infant son, to be called the Palace de la Roi de Rome ; and 
 the plans were drawn and the foundations laid, before first 
 Elba and then St. Helena broke in on the dreams of the con¬ 
 queror. Oddly enough, the dimensions of Napoleon’s intended 
 palace were precisely those lately adopted for the Palace of 
 the Trocadero ; and with a pretty appropriateness, the re¬ 
 membrance of what was to hiave been is preserved in the name 
 of the Place de la Roi de Rome, occasionally given to the fine 
 open ground at the extremity of the gentle elevation, and that 
 will be always given when they have tired of temporarily call¬ 
 ing it the “ Place du Trocadero.” 
 
 This is a somewhat long story; but has it necessarily been 
 a dull one? Is it not just possible that many of those who, 
 during the season of 1878, have paced the grand colonnade of 
 the Trocadero Palace, would have been quite as glad as the 
 Governor to know how much of the history of France has 
 moved in other days over the very spot where to-day rest 
 those noble foundations? 
 
 And now to return from the historical to the relation of per¬ 
 sonal observations. There followed, after the concert in the 
 Salle des Fetes, something that would have been entirely out 
 of the question but for the modern dictum that “ nothing is 
 likely but the unexpected,” and the statement of the gardener 
 that “his pumpkin did not weigh so much as he had calcu¬ 
 lated, and he never thought that it would.” In other words, 
 
272 
 
 PARIS IN ’ 78 . 
 
 the Governor, who in a long course of varied travel, had care- 
 full)' kept himself from the ascent of an)' of the great domes 
 and towers from the tops of which “ unequalled views” were 
 promised, went up to the top of the eastermost of the two 
 lance-towers dominating the Trocadero on either side. 
 
 Seen from without and below, these towers are square or 
 nearly so ; and in the cross-striping of their color, as well as 
 the sunken centres of the sides, they have a certain reminder 
 of both the great Campanile at Venice and that other and 
 matchless Campanile built by Giotto to dominate Florence. 
 But here, even beside the difference in length, all resemblance 
 necessarily ceases. These towers are both “ telescoped ”—in 
 other words, the tops rise diminished from broad corniced ter¬ 
 minations below them ; and these upper and diminished stories 
 are open—pierced on each of the four sides by immense gothic¬ 
 headed openings, each with a railed balcony at the bottom for 
 observation at ease. Then the crown of each is a Moorish 
 dome, with striped curve, a knotted pinnacle at the apex, and 
 a similar pinnacle at either corner. So much said and the fact 
 added that the sunken centres of the sides are slitted like the 
 old castles, for light and outlook, and that at the top of each 
 of the side depressions, below the cornice, is a triple open 
 window, at least some idea will have been conveyed of these 
 two really remarkable structures which keep the low Troca¬ 
 dero Palace from seeming to be flat and sprawling, and actually 
 lift it to splendid dignity. 
 
 It is a self-evident fact that the labor of making the ascent 
 of five hundred steps is considerable. Deficiency of knee- 
 power, and over employment of the breathing-apparatus, are 
 both inevitable, toiling up that awful five hundred steps, with 
 occasional compensatory glimpses from the slits, and semi- 
 occasional moppings of the hot forehead with the handker¬ 
 chief already damp,—not to mention remembrances, the 
 while, making the present yet more laborious, of other long 
 escaliers similarly and sillily climbed, and of mountain ascents 
 that began in misery and ended in sun-stroke. Now all this 
 might, could and should be, and most certainly would be, but 
 
BACK TO PARIS. 
 
 273 
 
 for the resources of the modern arts of convenience. Steam 
 and water have combined to save the human leg, and likewise 
 the human lungs. An elevator, known as the “ ascenseur 
 Edoux,” carries the would-be observer up to the open win¬ 
 dows of the top of the tower, in two minutes; and the 
 Governor acknowledges that all the preceding has been a 
 mere practice upon human sympathy, and that he went up, 
 with very moderate expenditure, and with no outlay except 
 from the nervous system in the remembrance that elevators 
 sometimes “ come down by the run.” 
 
 But what a view it was, from the top of that tower, with the 
 fear of tumbling off one of the balconies, or being pushed off 
 by some careless fellow, always understood! Overall Paris, 
 for the time ; above it, one might have said, with the bad pun 
 added, of being “ above all its vices and temptations.” The 
 eye literally ached with what it saw ; the brain reeled a little 
 in trying to take in that marvellous feast of wealth, beauty 
 and life. “ Tommy ” has spoken of the view from the lower 
 colonnade of the Trocadero, on the day of the Opening; but 
 his glance had no more relation to this, than that of a six-footer 
 walking along a high-road, to the vision of the bird flying 
 over the fields on either side of him. Immediately in front, the 
 grounds and winding walks of the Trocadero Gardens, with 
 buildings picturesquely scattered here and there, white water 
 flashing down from the great Cascade, the greener}'- of trees 
 and plants giving the necessary relief in color, and amid all, 
 single forms and groups moving incessantly with the propor¬ 
 tions of enlarged ants. Beyond, only a little, the widened 
 Pont de Jena, spanning the Seine, with the same enlarged 
 ants crawling over it in hundreds. Below it, the Seine, its 
 bosom flecked here and there with moving boats, the flash of 
 oars, and the white puffings of steam, and its banks crowded 
 with those interested in the various exhibitions established 
 there. Still beyond, the grounds of the Main Palace, with the 
 same infinite variety shown by those of the Trocadero, not 
 even minus the water. And then the great Main Palace 
 itself, not “ rising,” now, in spite of its really respectable 
 
274 
 
 PARIS IN 78 . 
 
 height and the altitude of its flag-staffs, but entirely subordi¬ 
 nated, so that the view was principally one of roof, and the 
 whole internal arrangement of streets, alleys, separate build¬ 
 ings and annexes, plainly visible. Here, there, everywhere, 
 the human ants to be seen, moving, crawling ; and on the bridge 
 and along the various avenues, these ants seeming to be 
 borne along at speed greater than their own by other and 
 more elongated ants pressed into their service. 
 
 This, and a hundred times this, as the near view. A little 
 beyond, the massive buildings of the Military School. A 
 little more distant, and a trifle to the left, the gilded dome of 
 the Invalides. Still beyond, again, the repeated twin towers 
 of St. Clothilde and San Sulpice. Still beyond, the noble 
 pile of the Lumembourg. Crowning the hill, the dome of 
 the Pantheon. Sweeping around to the left, where the silver 
 curves of the Seine were reached again, a sombre poem in 
 stone, oddly blending History and Victor Hugo in equal pro¬ 
 portions, the dark pile and heavy towers of Notre Dame. 
 Still farther eastward, the Tour St. Jacques, the matchless 
 river facade of the Louvre, and immediately in front of it the 
 remains of the poor old Tuileries. 
 
 Stop here ! The remains, and something more. From amid 
 the ruins, and dominating them, something ovoidly globular, 
 with a forest of hanging cords surrounding it, springs to the 
 sky. It is of brownish yellow, and even at this distance 
 colossal. No meteor, however, threatening more calamities 
 to the Parisians—rather an omen that some of them are 
 “ making money.” In other words, it is the Ballon Captif, of 
 such immense proportions that only those who saw the Lowe 
 balloon, the intended-to-be flying machine of Dr. Solomon 
 Andrews, at Houston and Mercer streets, New York, some 
 fifteen years ago, or the shameless humbug of the Graphic 
 Goodsells at the Brooklyn Capitoline grounds, some years 
 later, can form any conception of the monster. In this, for a 
 Napoleon (four dollars), any man anxious for aeronautic honors 
 may make an ascension of some fourteen hundred feet, at' 
 many times during the day—as report has it that Mile. Sarah 
 
BACK TO FAR1S. 
 
 275 
 
 Bernhardt, the celebrated Parisian actress, has been doing 
 nearly every day during the season. Opinions divide whether 
 for pure air, to alleviate incipient consumption, or as an adver¬ 
 tisement. 
 
 In the which, as already said, any one may go up for a 
 Napoleon ; but in the which not all do go up who make 
 the essay. Le voila! They tell a good story—and it 
 may already have crept into print, but the Governor has not 
 so seen it,and what matter?—of two Englishmen who at first 
 thought that they would make the ascension, and then that 
 they would not. They rushed to the “ booking office ” (no 
 doubt that was what they called it) with precipitation only 
 less assured than they would have found by tumbling out of 
 the Ballon Caplif. “ But, good gracious !—why, we couldn’t 
 pay that, you know !—why, it is an awful do, by Jove !” one 
 said to the other, when they found that the tariff for going up 
 was nearly sixteen shillings sterling. “Of course we couldn't 
 pay that!” echoed his friend, with the addition of certain 
 expletives indicating a desire to bestow corporal punishment 
 on the “ muffs ” and “ cads ” who were guilty of anything “ so 
 un-English ” as overcharging. But at that moment of dis¬ 
 couragement the eye of one of them lighted on the announce¬ 
 ment of another balloon in the same neighborhood—smaller, 
 but large enough for all practical purposes— "Ballon Libre." 
 “ Halloo !” exclaimed the discoverer, “ why, don’t you see that 
 we have just been making (sanguinaceous) asses of ourselves ! 
 Sixteen shillings for that, when yonder is one for nothing !” 
 His companion looked, and assented. “ By Jove !—so there 
 is ! ‘ Ballon Libre ’—‘ libre ’ means ‘ free,’ of course : now we 
 
 will go up, you know, and no thanks to this swindling 
 Crapaud !” So they went to the “ Ballon Libre,” and took 
 seats in it, and went up—somewhat farther than they had 
 intended, on a small circuit of the boundless upper air, paying 
 each one hundred francs, four pounds, or twenty dollars, when 
 they came down. After which they may or may not have 
 discovered that “libre” has more than one meaning, and 
 
 19 
 
276 
 
 PARIS IN ’ 78 . 
 
 that one of the meanings may be “ free to go up into the air ” 
 instead of “ free of cost to any one who wishes to do the thing 
 economically.” 
 
 Necessarily, apropos of the balloon, the gaze from the top 
 of the Trocadero tower stopped at the Louvre and the Tuil- 
 eries Gardens. But in the case of the often checked Gover¬ 
 nor, the stop was only temporary. Sweeping on, it came back 
 over a part of the interval and took in the Obelisk of Luxor 
 in the Place de la Concorde, followed up, still much nearer, to 
 the Arc de 1 ’Etoile, and then passing back along the Avenue 
 through the Champs Elysees, embraced the line of the Boule¬ 
 vards and followed them easily so far as the Porte St. Martin ; 
 whence the prominence of the Heights of Belleville and the 
 Buttes Chaumont drew the eye away and prevented anything 
 more than a mere glance southeastward to the thin needle 
 marking the Place de la Bastille, and the white glimmer of 
 Pere la Chaise. Then the spectator turned in the other di¬ 
 rection and swept the Heights of Montmartre, saw the green 
 glimmer of the Parc Monceaux, Neuilly and Courbevoie, and 
 the Islands of Puteaux and Grand Jatte, coming to a conclu¬ 
 sion with Passy and Auteuil, and the broad leafage of the Bois 
 de Boulogne, with St. Cloud visible at a far bend of the Seine, 
 and Ville d’Avray and the other heights rising toward Ver¬ 
 sailles. Necessarily all this was absolutely encircled or cut 
 with fortifications, with Mt. Valerien, Issy, Vanvres, and 
 the other forts that could not save Paris from the spoiler, 
 frowning ominously and correcting the character of what might 
 else have been lacking in redeeming roughness. 
 
 Really, this was a wondrous view over modern and perfect 
 Paris; and the visitor who has failed to catch it or the rival 
 approaching it, from the top of the Arc de l'Etoile, has by no 
 means mastered all the geographical position of the “ fair city,’* 
 and may well devote his earliest hour of opportunity to re¬ 
 pairing the omission. For this, if forthis only, the towers of 
 the Trocadero have a sufficient raison d'etre. 
 
ZEIZKIZXIXI. 
 
 FROM AND AT THE TROCADERO PALACE. 
 
 The Governor was by no means satisfied in the matter of 
 “ views,” even after the splendid coup d’oeil caught from the 
 Edoux tower of the Trocadero. Several more remained of 
 much less altitude, but not necessarily of less interest; and at 
 least two of them needed to be taken and were taken “ accord- 
 ingly,” as was once sententiously observed by a certain 
 Colonel who was in the habit of having his orders, to shoot 
 people, punctually obeyed. 
 
 The first of these was from the Grand Colonnade of the 
 Trocadero, over the grounds and the Main Palace—no longer 
 at such a height above the earth as to obscure all particulars. 
 In this glance, quite the equal of the preceding in beauty, while 
 so much more limited in extent, all tne outer details of the 
 Trocadero side of the Seine came very favorably into view. 
 Standing on this colonnade, a little to the right of the centre 
 and in front of the Poste Medical, the following was briefly 
 the scene presented. 
 
 A little to the left, in the centre, the waters of the Grand 
 Cascade went leaping down from beneath the outer circle of 
 the auditorium of the Salle des Fetes, throwing up innumer¬ 
 able jets on the way, and losing themselves in the double¬ 
 playing and statuary-studded fountain at the extremity. At 
 the far left, nearly in front of the terminatory tower of the left 
 wing, showed the placid water and artistically rough rock- 
 work of the Aquarium. A little to the left, and in front of the 
 Aquarium, rose the large Moorish building with a telescoped 
 and domed tower, representing Algeria. Near the latter, little 
 and unpretending, but with a sad interest, was the modest struc¬ 
 ture of Alsace and Lorraine, seeming like a last and weak pro¬ 
 test against the rape of those provinces. Below the Aquarium, 
 and leading toward the centre and the Quai de Billy, were a 
 variety of minor buildings devoted to the exhibitions of me- 
 
278 
 
 FABIS IN ’ 78 . 
 
 teorology, the forests, insects, waters, cements, ores, and many 
 manufactures. On the right, nearly at the corresponding 
 point occupied by the Algerian building on the left, was the 
 large and characteristic structure of the Chinese, with that of 
 Siam (very small), almost immediately behind it and toward 
 the Seine. Very nearly in a line with the Chinese, parallel to 
 the river and forming a group below the cross avenue of the 
 gardens, stood the tasteful structure of Persia ; the smaller and 
 characteristic one of Norway ; that of Egypt, nearly as large as 
 the Chinese, and only less appropriate in architecture to the 
 people represented, with a supplementary and smaller build¬ 
 ing in line with it; that of Sweden, with a supplementary 
 clock-tower—both small but picturesque; that of Tunis, form¬ 
 ing an L, with a second building in the angle, and the main 
 structure full of Arabic grace ; that of Morocco, of moderate 
 size and little pretension, beside that of Tunis; and that of 
 Japan, in quite extended grounds of its own, showing the 
 architecture of that ingenious nation quite as well as so many 
 remember its exponent at Philadelphia. Much nearer to the 
 observer, on either side and parallel with the Great Basin of 
 the Cascade, was a restaurant of prominence ; and some other 
 and minor buildings, devoted to special interests, and below 
 the grade of nationality, appeared at various points and espe¬ 
 cially at the lower edge of the grounds, adding to the variety 
 and interest of the whole. 
 
 It needs scarcely be said that amid all the buildings named, 
 the walks, regular and irregular, and many of them tastefully 
 curved, showed the perfection of laying and keeping, with 
 grasses, flowers and shrubbery as necessary and important 
 adjuncts; and, so much conveyed, obviously the view over the 
 Trocadero grounds from the colonnade, could not be other than 
 a notable one, even ignoring the Seine, the broad Pont de 
 Jena, the grounds of the Main Palace, and that Palace itself, 
 nobly closing in the immediate prospect. 
 
 But now came to the Governor another view from a portion 
 of the Trocadero more characteristic than any preceding, even 
 if much more limited in extent. This was that obtained from 
 
FROM AND AT THE TROCADERO. 
 
 279 
 
 the Chateau d’Eau (as the Parisians phrase it) of the Great 
 Cascade—literal^ the ground floor of the immense bow-front 
 of the Palace, under the Salle des Fetes. And in speaking of 
 it, the Cascade itself, the Great Basin, and their surroundings, 
 arc necessarily involved. 
 
 Beyond a question, no feature of the Exposition has awakened 
 more pride in the minds of the Parisians than this Cascade, 
 the precursors of which have been found in many years of 
 admirable and almost matchless water displays at Versailles. 
 In the building of the Trocadero Palace much stress was laid 
 upon the construction of this Chateau d’Eau and the liberal 
 supply of water made by the immense steam pump of Chaillot 
 from the reservoirs of Passy. This lower story of the central 
 great building is of heavy yet graceful stone-work, with some 
 of the key stones of the arch displaying the highest art of 
 the sculptor, from such chisels as that of Lcgrain ; and no less 
 than six sitting figures, of gilded bronze, on the pilasters, 
 complete its effect, from some of the best statuaries of France : 
 “ Europe,” by Schoenewerck ; “ Asia,” by Falguiercs ; “Africa,” 
 by Delaplanche; “North America,” by Iliollc; “South 
 America,” by Millet; and “Occanica,” by Moreau. This does 
 not complete the sculptures involved, however. Four magni¬ 
 ficent animal figures surround the Great Basin below— 
 colossal, in bronze, and all thoroughly admirable in handling;— 
 The Bull, by M. Cain; the Horse, by M. Rouillard; the Rhi¬ 
 noceros, by M. Jacquemart; and the Elephant, by M. Fremiet. 
 
 Figures are always tiresome and often misleading ; let us 
 have none of them. Enough to say that a thin sheet of water, 
 of fair height and immense width, falls from the arch of the 
 Chateau d’Eau into a basin beneath ; that thence six “ cas- 
 catelles,” or semi-cascades (really “ rapids”) convey the flood 
 down to the edge of the circular Great Basin, where it finds a 
 final fall of some distance ; that at each of the cascatelles a 
 noble single stream springs into the air; and that in the 
 Great Basin play two immense sheaf-fountains with a jet 
 rising high in the middle of each, while one powerful jet, 
 
280 
 
 PARIS IN ’78. 
 
 possibly a foot in diameter and not less than a hundred feet i r 
 height, throws up its wealth of flashing silver in the very 
 centre of the Basin. 
 
 To those who have made water a study, and the admiration 
 of it something approaching to worship, even this incomplete 
 description may convey some impression of the Great Cascade 
 of the Trocadero. Meanwhile, only those can be expected to 
 realize, in imagination, the “view,” for the production of 
 which the last paragraphs have been merely a preparation. 
 For nowhere else on the face of the travelled earth is there 
 anything approaching it in a certain sort of beauty and its 
 resulting sensation. Damp, indeed, is the vault of the Chateau 
 d’ Eau at all hours, with the fine particles of water drifting 
 back into it; and very damp is it, to absolute wetness, when 
 the wind chances to be from the west and to exert a consider¬ 
 able force in driving those particles back into the virtual cave. 
 But who, duly instructed, would not risk silks or patent- 
 leathers, or even the throat, for a few moments, to see how a 
 bit of the world looks through a solid inch thick of the most 
 delicate cobweb lace, all the while being literal!}' poured down 
 in a broad sheet, with just enough wavering and flickering in 
 the wind to make the ensemble more ravishing while with no 
 loss of distinctness ? 
 
 Such is, indeed, the bald fact, looking through the Cascade 
 from within, on a day with no play of sunlight. But with the 
 sun high in heaven, and cloudless; with every mesh of the 
 lace made glittering silver as well as thread ; with all bright¬ 
 ness added, and yet no clearness of view taken away,—abso¬ 
 lutely there are no words in which to describe the sensations 
 of thrilled satisfaction with which one gazes through this 
 marvellous white flickering, transparent curtain, let down 
 from fairy-land, on the cascatelles below, the fountains flash¬ 
 ing up from them and in the Great Basin, on the beautiful 
 walks, shrubbery and buildings of the Trocadero Gardens, the 
 Seine, the Main Palace grounds, the Main Palace itself, and all 
 southwestern Paris, softened but undimmed, and all made 
 part of the same fairy-land whence the falling water proceeds. 
 
FROM AND A T THE TROCADERO. 
 
 281 
 
 by this pure and radiant medium through which the vision 
 comes back to the enraptured eye. Many a time before, the 
 Governor had been behind sheets of falling water—at Goat 
 Island and under the English Fall, at Niagara ; looking out 
 through the Fall of Lauterbrunnen ; amid the flashing glares 
 of white and green of that of Giessbach ; and repeatedly 
 elsewhere. But never before had he seen anything like this 
 overwhelmingly beautiful effect of water and sunlight, pro¬ 
 duced through so simple means by the active brain of Inven¬ 
 tion and the capable hand of Art. 
 
 So much for the views, near and more distant, from the 
 Trocadero Palace. Now for the result of certain brief obser¬ 
 vations—once more within the Palace itself. Understood that 
 the Salle des Fetes occupied the virtual whole of the front 
 of the central building above, and the Chateau d'Eau the 
 whole of that portion below—there still remain to be accounted 
 for, that portion of it fronting on the Place du Trocadero, the 
 choirs of the wings, and those long curved wings themselves. 
 
 One of the most important offices of the Trocadero Palace, 
 present or future, is filled by the two halls, occupying what is 
 really the first story, separated by the two elevators from the 
 outer line of the central Salle des Fetes, and called (somewhat 
 at length) the Flails of Conference and of Scientific Congres¬ 
 sional Reunions (“ salles aflectees aux conferences et aux re¬ 
 unions des congres scientifiques”). These two noble rooms, 
 of which mention was made in the description of the Opening 
 of the Exposition as witnessing the gathering and receptions 
 of the foreign notables, diplomats, &c., have, with great pro¬ 
 priety, been devoted, additionally, to the exhibition of historic 
 portraits, of which nearly seven hundred, drawn from the 
 choicest repositories of France, were collected for the great 
 occasion through the efforts of the Marquis de Chennevieres, 
 honorary director of Fine Arts; M. Henry Jouin, the secretary, 
 and others associated with them. Among those who contrib¬ 
 uted to the really wonderful collection, may be named the 
 Orleans princes, the Due d’Aumale, the Comte de Paris, Mar¬ 
 quis de Laborde, M. de Beauvais, &c. It may be said that 
 
282 
 
 PARIS IN 78 . 
 
 every class of celebrity, in the history of France, was here 
 represented—kings, generals, prelates, savans, inventors, 
 poets, philosophers, artists, men of benevolence, &c., from 
 pencils famous as those of Largilliere, Rigaud, Boucher, 
 Greuze, Delatour, David, Prudhon, Watteau, Ingres, Ary 
 Scheffer, and others only less celebrated. Perhaps among all 
 the collection, which has during the summer attracted so 
 closely the eyes of all privileged to enter these halls, no por¬ 
 traits have more surely riveted the attention than those of 
 poor Andre Chenier, the poet, by Suree, and his later and hap¬ 
 pier brother, Bcranger, by Ary Scheffer. Splendid busts of 
 Chateaubriand and of the savant Arago, both by David of 
 Angers, diversified the remarkable collection, which was 
 further aided in variety if not in tone by the presence of a 
 “ burning bush ” from the Cathedral of Aix, in Provence, in 
 which an authentic image of good King Rene and his queen 
 awakened the curiosity of the imaginative. 
 
 It may be said that all the Trocadero Palace, not already 
 designated as otherwise employed, was devoted to the depart¬ 
 ment of “L'Art Retrospectif ”—literally, the History of Art. 
 This display, really one cf the most important of the sea¬ 
 son, and scarcely equalled at any previous exhibition, bears 
 the name of having been organized by M. Longperier, mem¬ 
 ber of the Institute, and entitles him and his assistants to the 
 warm thanks of every visitor. The three divisions of the 
 Palace thus occupied have been that portion of the central 
 building opening on the Place du Trocadero, in the rear of the 
 Salle des Fetes, and the entire two long curved wings of the 
 structure—one devoted principally to the past art of France, 
 and the other to that of the world generally. 
 
 In all this large and important department of the Exposition, 
 it may be possible to convey to the minds of many of those de¬ 
 barred from the actual sight, some idea of its character, by 
 saying that here was represented, a thousand in one, of the 
 creditable and generous Loan Collections shown in different 
 years at the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art, Academy 
 
FROM AND AT THE TROCADERO. 
 
 283 
 
 of Design, etc , of the same general scope, but with the im¬ 
 mense resources of Continental Europe for the supply, instead 
 of the gatherings of a few liberal art-lovers living beyond seas, 
 and thus distant from the possible avenues of acquisition. The 
 number of princely and wealthy contributors has been literally 
 legion ; and among those from whose collections came the 
 veritable master-works in Gobelin, Ceauvais, and other antique 
 tapestries, jewelry, works of art, faiences, rare manuscripts, 
 etc., may be mentioned M. de Rothschild, whose very name 
 at once suggests corresponding experience and immense 
 resources. 
 
 Necessarily, the bulk of the exhibition of Retrospective Art 
 was to be found in the immense curved wings, in the structure 
 of each of which there are two intermediary towers or pavil¬ 
 ions, with one tower at the head or end. In these there have 
 been some magnificent glass-works, by eminent masters in 
 that detail ; but we must pass them for a hasty resume of the 
 contents of the many halls of the wings. 
 
 In the Left Wing (as seen from the Gardens) no less than 
 fifteen halls have been brought into requisition, of the contents 
 of which may be mentioned some of the more prominent ob¬ 
 jects. ist Hall: flint and stone weapons of the early ages; 
 bronze arms of the ancient Gauls ; modes of sepulture of the 
 Gauls ; several interesting bronzes of the Gallo-Roman age, 
 including the “ Hercules ” from the Museum of Bordeaux, the 
 “ Apollo ” from that of Troyes, two “ Jupiters’’ from those of 
 Lyons and Evreux, Gallic medals, etc. 2d Hall : bronzes, mar¬ 
 bles, and terra-cottas, all antique ; among them, the “ Victory ” 
 of Phidias, from the Parthenon ; statue from the tomb of 
 Mausoleus at Hallicarnassus ; terra-cotta statuettes from 
 Bceotia; Greek painted vases; bronze chest from Palestrina; 
 medals of the Greeks, Romans and Asiatics; the great silver 
 tripod from the museum of Pesth ; arms of gladiators, etc. 3d 
 Hall: (the Greau collection) antique bronzes ; terra-cottas ; 
 Assyrian bas-reliefs ; arms of Greece, Italy and Gaul, etc. 4th 
 Hall: relics of the Middle Ages, in jewels, coins, arms, manu- 
 
284 
 
 PARIS IN 78 . 
 
 scripts, seals, carved ivories ; enamelled cross from the Muse¬ 
 um of St. Orner; sword of the crusader, Hugh of Meaux; 
 wooden statue of the son of St, Louis, etc. 5th Hall: (the 
 Basilewski collection) goldsmiths’ work and ivories of the 12th 
 and 13th centuries; Italian majolicas; enamels of Limoges ; 
 terra-cottas of Bernard Palissy ; great Ilispano-Moresco vase ; 
 Italian faiences, etc. 6th Hall ; relics of the 15th and 16th cen¬ 
 turies ; has relief from the Doria Palace, Genoa; bas-relief 
 from the Chartreuse of Pavia, by Mantegazza ; varnished 
 terra-cottas by Luca Della Robbia; splendid collection of 
 French coins, from the 10th century to the present; stuffs of 
 the Middle Ages; sacerdotal relics, etc. 7th Hall: relics of 
 the 15th century ; marbles, bronzes, ivories, ceramics, arms, 
 goldsmith’s work ; busts and bas-reliefs by Donatello ; the 
 “Wounded Young Man,” a magnificent marble attributed to 
 Michael Angelo ; seven panels of the history of John the Bap¬ 
 tist; grand medallions of the 15th and 16th centuries, etc. 
 8th Hall: Italian majolicas; potteries of Bernard Palissy; the 
 “ Twelve Apostles,” on Limoges enamel, by Michael Rochetel, 
 1545, held as the supreme treasure of the Church of St. Peter 
 at Chartres, and never before publicly exhibited ; Guttenberg’s 
 Bible—one of the only seven known; statue of St. Francis 
 d’Assisi by Alonzo Cano, etc. 9th Hall (Spitzer collection) : 
 arms of the Middle Ages ; immense collection of watches and 
 mathematical and astronomical instruments ; arms of the 15th 
 century ; bronzes of the same century and that following; ar¬ 
 mor of the Earl of Essex, of Queen Elizabeth’s time, etc. 10th 
 Hall : tapestries, stuffs, sacred utensils, manuscripts, etc., of 
 the Middle Ages and Renaissance (many of them Jewish); 
 splendid sculptured canopy of the baptismal font from the 
 Church of St. Romain at Rouen, etc. nth Hall: Polish monu¬ 
 ments, pictures, stuffs, armor; Persian carpets ; the fan of 
 Maria Leczynski, etc. 12th Hall : furniture, bronzes and mar¬ 
 bles of the 16th century; arms, including splendid collection 
 of swords. 13th Hall: old armor of different European nations ; 
 splendid horse-armor; Scottish targets ; medals of the 16th 
 
FROM AND AT THE TROCADERO. 
 
 285 
 
 Century. 14th Hall: carved furniture ; faiences from Rouen 
 and Nevers ; group in marble by Sarrazin ; “ Eneus Carrying 
 Andrises,’’ group attributed to Puget; silver work, etc. 15th 
 Hall: delicate porcelains of France, from 1731 ; Sevres porce¬ 
 lains ; Delft faiences ; the bronze “ Diana,” b)' Pigalle ; bronzes 
 b) r Gouthifere ; musical instruments ; the astronomical clock 
 of Versailles ; rare and curious books, etc. 
 
 In the Right Wing (as from the gardens) there have been 
 eleven halls in occupancy. 1st Hall: ancient and modern 
 Egyptian utensils ; arms, religious standards, harnesses, etc. 
 2d Hall : Egyptian antiquities; stone statues attributed to the 
 first Pharaonic empire ; bust of the Khedive of Egypt. 3d 
 Hall: carpets, lamps, three Korans, etc., of Egypt under the 
 Califs: Mussulman money. 4 th Hall: monuments of Cam¬ 
 bodia, including a giant with many serpent-heads, from Indian 
 tomb. 5th Hall: manufactures in porcelain, lacquer-work, etc., 
 from Japan. 6th Hall : antiquities, curiosities, jewelry, etc., of 
 Africa and Central America. 7th Hall: the same. 8th Hall: 
 collection from Oceanica, brought by Dumont Durville in the 
 Astrolabe. 9th Hall : fine old Belgian furniture and tapestries ; 
 a splendid “Christ,” in ivory, attributed to Dufresnoy, 17th 
 century. 10th Hall: Spanish collection ; statue of Charles V., 
 surrounded by armors of Columbus, the Duke of Alva, Gon- 
 salvo de Cordova, and Philip III. ; many historic helmets and 
 casques—among others that of Boabdil, last Moorish king of 
 Grenada ; magnificent Portuguese bed, of the 17th century, 
 nth Hall: Swedish collection; very interesting groups of 
 typical national figures, with domestic surroundings ; interior 
 of a Swedish habitation. 
 
 The length at which the Trocadero Palace has thus far been 
 examined makes it necessary to leave it with some abruptness, 
 without any attempt at specifying the marvellous sculptural 
 and architectural adornments which make it really one of the 
 prides of Paris and the world. Three features, however, com¬ 
 mand notice: the slightly-colossal winged wreath-extending 
 and trumpet-blowing statue of Renown (“ La Renommee ”), 
 
286 
 
 PARIS IN ’ 78 . 
 
 modelled in brass by M. Antoine Mercie, and crowning the 
 summit of the dome, over the Salle des Fetes ; the thirty stat¬ 
 ues which decorate the summit of the portico, or terrace of 
 the first story—in stone, by different sculptors, and nobly rep¬ 
 resenting the Arts, Sciences and Manufactures ; and the al¬ 
 most endless succession of the celebrated names in all the 
 walks of human effort, decorating the walls and porticos of 
 literally the whole edifice. To those who have seen the Tro- 
 cadero during the summer of 1S78, even the partial descriptions 
 given may serve in some sort as a pleasant reminder ; to those 
 who missed that privilege, they may have some influence in 
 determining to visit it in the future of its permanency, however 
 despoiled of many of its wondrous temporary attractions. 
 
287 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 IN THE TWO EXPOSITION PARKS. 
 
 As already understood, all the open grounds of the Exposi¬ 
 tion have been those between the Trocadero Palace and the 
 Seine, on the one side of the river, and between the Main 
 Palace and the river, on the other side—the latter palace run¬ 
 ning back quite to the Avenue de la Mothe Picquet and the 
 grounds of the Ecole Militaire. These have formed, so to 
 speak, the two Parks of the Exposition. From the tower of 
 the Trocadero, the colonnade, and the Chateau d’Eau of the 
 cascade, we have glanced casually over the constructions in 
 the Trocadero grounds ; but many of them warrant at least 
 some attempt at hasty description. 
 
 The Aquarium (called the “Aquarium d'Eau Douce ”—liter¬ 
 ally the “aquarium of soft water”) stood, as already noted, at 
 near the extreme terminatory tower of the left wing, not far 
 from the Rue de Magdebourg. It was arranged under the care 
 of the engineer, Barois, and was in many regards one of the 
 most admirable works of its class, occupying altogether a space 
 of some nine hundred square feet, with admirable accommoda¬ 
 tion forthe variety of fishes, among rocks picturesquely arrang¬ 
 ed and marine plants proper for their habitation. A succession 
 of rough and picturesque caverns, appearing natural, formed 
 one of the leading attractions. Six rustic bridges gave com¬ 
 munication between the different portions ; and two others led 
 to a little chalet in the centre, where were hydraulic machines, 
 which at once furnished the water of the Aquarium and oxy¬ 
 genated it. Several cascades formed part of the beauty of 
 this ingenious contrivance ; and one, at near the entrance, 
 would have formed a feature of the grounds but for the pres¬ 
 ence of the great cascade of the Trocadero in the immediate 
 neighborhood. 
 
 Very near the Aquarium was the building of Algeria, already 
 
28 S 
 
 PARIS IN ’78. 
 
 designated as among the largest in the grounds. This struc¬ 
 ture, without, was picturesquely Moorish in construction, 
 broken, towered and domed after the well-known manner of 
 that architecture, with several square telescope towers—one 
 of considerable height and elaborate ornamentation, and a 
 domed tower at the opposite corner, showing in small the very 
 proportions of St. Sophia. Needless to say that the outside 
 was surrounded by the plants and small trees of the semi¬ 
 tropics, which would flourish in French air; and that within, 
 surrounding a court filled with the tall palms and other ex¬ 
 otics in apparently wild profusion, and in galleries surrounding 
 the court, with the nameless charm of semi-Oriental arrange¬ 
 ment, were shown the fruits, minerals, wines, coffee, tobacco 
 and other productions ; the national costumes, arms, jewels, 
 cloths, carpets, &c., sent by more than two thousand exhibit¬ 
 ors, and well displaying the wealth of this great colony of 
 France. By a natural instinct, many of the costumes of visit¬ 
 ors, appropriate to such surroundings, were often to be found 
 in this pavilion, giving it the tone that might otherwise have 
 been lacking, and seeming, so to speak, to acclimatate it. 
 
 Nothing could well be more thoroughly opposite to the Al¬ 
 gerian, in aspect, than another, from the same Africa, standing 
 across the grounds from it, at near the end of the right wing 
 —the Egyptian. It was a reproduction of the times of the 
 Pharaohs, immensely massive in construction, of two square 
 battered towers with coved overhanging eaves, two stories of 
 windows broad and colonnaded, and a centre-part, lower, with 
 long sunken pilasters and an entrance-way square and heavy 
 enough for one of the tombs of the order. Ileavy-looking, yet 
 with a marked appropriateness, when the two star-and-crescent 
 flags waved above it. Within, the galleries, surroundinga court, 
 like those of the Algerians, had much more of lightness, with 
 an absolute oddity in the triple upright supporters. In the 
 vestibule, were the textile fabrics of the Khedive’s day, in no 
 small variety; and in the innumerable cases of the galleries 
 were shown not only many of the splendid potteries of Keneh 
 and Assouan, but magnificent cutleries equal to those of Da- 
 
IN THE EXPOSITION PARKS. 
 
 289 
 
 mascus, woollen, camels’-hair and other stuffs, the rice and 
 other cereals of the Valley of the Nile, and an almost endless 
 succession of Egyptian products and manufactures. One could 
 very well have spared the absolutely horrid pictures of the 
 slave-trade, found in the saloon of the International African 
 Society ; but one could ill have missed the great chart and 
 relief-plan of the Suez Canal, or the active face and gray head 
 of M. Ferdinand de Lesseps, sometimes visible in this honored 
 and attractive building. 
 
 Near the Egyptian structure, and at the right outer edge of 
 the grounds, near the Rue Le Notre, was the Chinese Pavilion, 
 about which the few words spoken cannot be very connected. 
 For it was, what Rosa Bud, in “ Edwin Drood,” would have 
 designated as “too, too, too droll I" There were two main 
 pavilions, with fretted railings in front, the roofs of which sug¬ 
 gested immense enraged butterflies, just flying away ; and an 
 inner pagoda, round or nearly so, seemed all composed of those 
 fugitive roofs. Meanwhile, there were four tall posts, in the 
 middle of the front space, with four cross-pieces, very highly 
 ornamented and somewhat inscribed ; and over all this, on two 
 very tall poles with something like hawk’s nests two-thirds of 
 the way up, waved two of the hideous dragon-flags of the Ce¬ 
 lestial Empire. Really, without, this structure, largely in bar¬ 
 baric red-and-gold, and its surroundings, were “ fearsome.” 
 It is pleasant to know that it was constructed at Pekin, taken 
 apart, conveyed here, and rebuilt piece by piece. Within, the 
 arrangement was equally striking and much more inde¬ 
 scribable. The ornamentation was elaborate, and in some 
 particulars unapproachable. And the collection exhibited, in 
 porcelains, lacquer-work, furniture, jewellery and articles of 
 curiosity, made the bazars which formed part of the building 
 very busy and profitable. 
 
 The pavilions of Sweden and Norway (the two together, as 
 in government) were immediately in the van of the Egyptian, 
 toward the Seine. Of the two principal, the first was a gabled 
 Swiss chalet, overhanging, with diamond windows, and colon¬ 
 naded balcony in the hanging gable : properly the architecture 
 
200 
 
 PARIS IN 78 . 
 
 of the Scandinavian lands, as well as that of Switzerland. The 
 second was a square tower, battered, with sharp, pent-roofed 
 heading and four clock faces; and the interest excited by its 
 odd picturesqueness was enhanced to many by the knowledge 
 that it was a copy of the tower of the mansion of the old 
 Swedish kingly hero, Gustavus Vasa. The Swedish collection, 
 of much value, was in the first, and consisted principally of the 
 exposition of the Swedish Society of Friends of Manual Labor, 
 in revivals of Mediaeval furniture and many other objects of 
 interest. The second was, as it appeared, merely a character¬ 
 istic clock tower. In two other and minor pavilions was the 
 especial exhibit of Norway, of the furniture, surroundings and 
 modes of living of “ Gamle Norje.” 
 
 Still in the rear of the Swedish and Norwegian came the 
 small and solid looking building, with the sunken colonnaded 
 front and deep bay windows, of Persia. In the interior the 
 most marked features were the central apartment of the ground 
 floor, with its great fountain surrounded by a wilderness of 
 flowers,—and the “ Salon des Glaces ” of the first story, in 
 which the really marvellous employment of glass on all sides, 
 as also in the ceiling, made a veritable glimpse of fairyland. 
 Traditionally, even that imperial brute, the Shah, who visited 
 it, is said to have approved of it and not ordered any heads 
 cut off on account of its construction. 
 
 Beside the Persian, southward, was the Tunisian Cafe,— 
 long, low, Moorish-looking, with striped sides, and the arches 
 the round-headed bulged Saracen; within, columned, cur¬ 
 tained, light-looking and attractive, with the service of its 
 name, and continuous music recalling to the visitors of 1867 
 the endless and doleful “ tum-tum ’’ of the Tunisian Cafe in the 
 Champ de Mars, of that year. Needless to say that the Bazaar 
 had an endless and attractive collection of Tunisian goods, 
 always on sale and attended after the best manner of Paris. 
 The small pavilion of Morocco was almost beside that of Tunis, 
 showing some of the tasteful architecture of the Moors, but 
 with no special feature demanding comment. 
 
 Only one more of the national buildings in the Trocadero 
 
IN THE EXPOSITION PARKS. 
 
 291 
 
 can have space—that of Japan, already spoken of as a small 
 building—actually a congeries of small buildings, in the boun¬ 
 daries of a perfect “ farm ” of the plantations and shrubberies 
 belonging to the life of that country. In this enclosure, 
 entirely shut in by a bamboo fence, in the various buildings 
 and grounds, not only were the modes shown of Japanese 
 housekeeping, sleeping, and other details of living, but the 
 stabling of horses (in three little ponies), the raising of fowls, 
 the growing of grains, tobacco, &c.; so that a virtual epitome 
 of Japan was presented in little, to the immense delihgt of 
 crowds always visiting and surrounding the attractive novelty. 
 
 The pretty little pavilion of Siam, lying between the river 
 and the Chinese building, and the Bazaar Oriental, near the 
 Algerian, and always surrounded by crowds of bibulous and 
 purchasing visitors, receiving necessarily but scant mention— 
 there only remains for notice one building in the Trocadero 
 Grounds, perhaps quite as interesting as any other, and afford¬ 
 ing a valuable hint to all after exhibitions. This was the 
 Pavilion of Forests, nearly equidistant from the Aquarium and 
 the Algerian building. It was handsomely constructed, 
 entirely of different woods, in natural colors, with double- 
 pitched roof and gabled centre front, ascended by several 
 steps, and thickly bowered in shrubbery. Within it, under 
 the capital arrangement of Mr. Lucien Etienne, was gathered 
 one of the most interesting collections possible, of the vege¬ 
 table and mineral products of the French forests ; the types of 
 their denizens, from ferocious beasts to tiny insects ; the tools 
 and weapons of the forester; and, indeed, the whole study of 
 forestry mapped and illustrated, to the delight of all who saw 
 and the gratitude of all who remember. 
 
 So much hastily shown, it becomes necessary to leave the 
 Trocadero Grounds, and, passing over the Seine, to take a 
 corresponding view of a few objects in the Park of the Champ 
 de Mars. 
 
 In this view, we stand on the magnificent Terrace of the 
 M ain Palace, some six hundred and fifty feet in length by 
 sixty in depth, with no less than twenty-seven doors leading 
 
 20 
 
292 
 
 PARIS IN 78 . 
 
 into the Grand Vestibule of Honor of the Palace. We stand 
 in front of the central entrance, near the splendid sitting 
 Statue of the Republic, by Clesinger, bearing the tablet 
 of the erection of the Republic and the upright sword of 
 power; and under the escutcheon crowning the grand 
 entrance, of two female figures, winged and soaring, linking 
 hands and holding torches, with shields on either side, the 
 magic word “ Pax " above their clasp, and the “ R. F.” of the 
 present form of government below. Behind, on either side 
 the statues of the Nations taking part in the Exposition, 
 already noticed by “ Tommy ” in his description of the Opening 
 and its Palaces. 
 
 From this point of view not very many national buildings 
 met the eye, though several structures of interest; while an 
 irregular basin, or fountain, on either side of the central walk 
 leading down to the Pont de Jena, a variety of well-kept 
 trees and shrubbery, and many greenhouses filled with ex¬ 
 quisite greenery and flowers, gave an attractive character to 
 the scene. 
 
 At the extreme left, beyond the left-hand fountain, showed 
 the immense building forming one of the English annexes 
 beyond the bounds of the Main Palace and annexes proper. 
 In this were displayed many of the British agricultural ma¬ 
 chines, carriages, articles of saddlery, fac-similes of the stable 
 arrangements of the Prince of Wales, &c. Very near, to the 
 right, were the group of small buildings containing some of 
 the Australian products—chief among them the rough hut of 
 an Australian miner, and serving for the (practical) exhibition 
 of the wines of the antipodes. Still beyond, was a handsome 
 pavilion, of half-Moorish order, surmounted by a group of 
 statues, containing the agricultural products of Spain ; and, 
 in one department of this, no less than 40.000 bottles of the 
 best Spanish wines, disposed in the form of a Moresco monu¬ 
 ment, perhaps induced as many smacks of the lips as any 
 other exhibit within the grounds. Very near this was the 
 smaller but handsome pavilion of the principality of Monaco, 
 attracting much more attention, within, than many larger 
 
IN TIIE EXPOSITION PARKS. 
 
 293 
 
 buildings, in a really remarkable exhibition of the artistic 
 majolicas and other potteries of Monte Carlo, the woods, 
 liqueurs, perfumes, and other productions of that little border 
 of the Mediterranean, besides some busts in marble and 
 bronze of the governing powers, and one or two pictures of 
 similar character and more than average merit. 
 
 Still continuing the view to the river, beyond the Spanish 
 pavilion, some low, long buildings met the eye, attracting 
 little attention from many visitors while deserving the regard 
 of all—nothing less than the admirable collection of tents, 
 ambulances, wagons, and other arrangements of mercy, of the 
 French Society of Succors for the Wounded, whose labors- 
 have alleviated the horrors of so many battle fields. 
 
 Leaving as minor the English kiosk, English cottages and 
 many other small buildings, greenhouses, fountains, &c., here 
 lining the bank of the Seine, turn we to the right of the 
 broad central avenue leading to the Pont de Jena. 
 
 Here the eye was first arrested, at near the right hand foun¬ 
 tain, by the colossal head of Bartholdi’s statue of America, 
 designed for erection on Bedloe’s Island, in New York harbor, 
 and of which many will remember the gigantic arm, bearing a 
 torch, exhibited at Philadelphia in 1876, and afterward on one 
 of the public squares of New York city. This head, severe¬ 
 faced, with hair en neglige, crowned with a circlet of radiating 
 spikes of great length, showed the statue to the neck, and 
 stood on a pedestal of some ten feet in height—its own height 
 being some twenty-six feet. It was ascended within by a 
 staircase of thirty-eight steps ; and many thousands made the 
 ascent, who wished at once to dwarf the recollections of the 
 “ San Carlo Borromeo ” on Lago Maggiore, and Schwantha- 
 ler’s gigantic “ Bavaria,” standing in the suburbs of Munich— 
 as also those who wished to enjoy the sensation of looking 
 out of a mouth capable of swallowing all the giants of the 
 world of fancy. 
 
 Very many of the great cluster of buildings filling this por¬ 
 tion of the Park, beyond the “America,”’ were devoted to the 
 mechanical works which have made French labor so notable 
 
294 
 
 PARIS IN 78 . 
 
 as well as so profitable—to the exhibition of the Ministry of 
 Public Works, of the Parisian Gas Company, of Fuels and 
 Lighting, of Cements, Artistic Reproductions, Tobacco Manu¬ 
 factures, the French Horticultural Society, &c. But among 
 them all, of first interest has been the large pavilion, with its 
 immense appendages, of the foundries of M. Schneider, at 
 Creusot, of which the colossal steam-hammer has loomed 
 above every other object in the neighborhood, as it had a 
 right to do, with a force the most powerful known (72,000 kilo¬ 
 grammes), and yet an ability of being managed actually un¬ 
 equalled. In this exhibit of Creusot have also been shown 
 some of the most immense masses and productions in steel 
 and iron, for naval and other purposes, ever placed before the 
 public eye ; a relief plan of Creusot itself, displaying admirable 
 ingenuity; and details of the schools of instruction of that 
 great establishment, reflecting the highest honor on the 
 founder and his system. 
 
 Before closing with this, the series of incomplete views on 
 and over the great place of assemblage, merely referring to 
 the two Monumental Fountains, on either side of the central 
 avenue, adjoining the Quai d’Orsay, and the really marvellous 
 array of foliage in the greenhouses aligning with them, it is 
 pleasant to say that the last glance, before reaching the marine 
 arrangements which stud the veritable river bank, tell upon 
 the exhibit of another merciful enterprise, only second to that 
 for Succors of the Wounded—the Society Protective of 
 Animals, doing the same good work, in a less pronounced and 
 aggressive manner, performed by Mr. Berghand his associates 
 on the Western side of the Atlantic. 
 
IXZXIIXII'V'. 
 
 IN THE VESTIBULE OF HONOR. 
 
 Entrance was made into the Main Palace, from the magnifi¬ 
 cent Terrace, from which the preceding supplementary view 
 was supposed to be taken, by way of the Grand Vestibule ol 
 Honor, alternately called, in respect to the Bridge, the “ Ves¬ 
 tibule of Jena.” And here, at the very entrance of the princi¬ 
 pal exhibition, were found grouped a variety of objects of the 
 very first interest, well worthy of that splendid gallery, with 
 architecture rich while plain, perfect light, and nearly one 
 thousand feet in length with a width of some seventy-five to 
 eighty feet. 
 
 In the middle of the noble space under the entrance tower, 
 stood the Monumental Clock, constructed by M. Eugene 
 Farcot, immense in size, elaborate in design, and almost 
 equalling as a wonder, though falling very far short in elabor¬ 
 ation, the celebrated Clock of Strasbourg. It was of about 
 twenty-two and a half feet in height, with four faces, rich 
 though chaste in ornamentation; and the motion was com¬ 
 municated by a pendulum more than one hundred feet in 
 length, suspended from the centre of the dome above, with a 
 terrestrial globe of some four feet in diameter at the end, 
 oscillating in about ten seconds, and acting upon a needle, in¬ 
 visible, like all the other mechanism. The lower portion had 
 elaborate bas-reliefs in bronze with caryatides of the seasons at 
 the corners ; and it was surrounded, at a distance marking the 
 limits of the central pavilion, by a circle of statues virtually 
 forming a guard of honor for the central mechanical curiosity 
 of the exhibition. 
 
 Immediately at the left of the clock (reckoning from the 
 entrance just made) was an exhibition of which the character 
 might be more easily understood than the name, and around 
 which, probably, more visitors moved on any given day oi 
 
296 
 
 IN PARIS 78 . 
 
 the exhibition, than any other object contained in the Palace. 
 On the maps used during the season, and in the guide books 
 circulated in the Palace and elsewhere in Paris, this curiosity 
 was enumerated as “ Les Diarnants de la Couronne ” (“ Dia¬ 
 monds of the Crown”), recalling the title of a celebrated opera, 
 but equally recalling the fact that the appellation was a 
 ridiculous misnomer, or that the French are only resting a 
 little in republicanism and expect very soon to welcome back 
 a Bonaparte or a Bourbon. Diamonds of what “ Crown,” 
 pray, Messieurs of the Direction ? And why not “ Diamonds 
 of the State,” if France is indeed and earnestly a republic? 
 
 But whatever the name, the exhibition has certainly been, 
 throughout the season, one well entitling it to a place in the 
 Vestibule of Honor, and one producing something of the effect, 
 in allowing the Commons to feast their vision on the rarest 
 treasures of old royalty, which was indicated by the wise coal- 
 heaver in thanking the handsome but scornful Duchess of 
 Queensberry for “ the use of her diamonds ” (with his eyes). 
 In an eight-sided vitrine (glass case), with wide Persian canopy 
 forming the top, and the bottom in two widening elevations, 
 have reposed, during all the six memorable months, wealth 
 estimated at more than forty millions of francs ($8,000,000). 
 Within the case, on a raised tablet of colored velvets, neces¬ 
 sarily also eight-sided, were shown this bewildering wealth of 
 diadems, orders, collars, sword hilts, head circlets, bracelets, 
 watches, &c„ of diamonds, turquoises, rubies, sapphires, and 
 other precious stones, many of them recalling the old luxu¬ 
 ries of the kings of France and their favorites, and the whole 
 representing that enormous value. Among the principal of 
 these maybe hastily mentioned, the great “ Regent Diamond,” 
 bought by the Duke of Orleans, when Regent, for 2,500,000 
 francs—called by the English the “Pitt Diamond,” after the 
 great Minister, who had it brought from India; the seven “Maza- 
 rin Diamonds ” acquired by France during the time of that Min¬ 
 ister ; a diadem of pearls and diamonds, of which the one great 
 pearl is valued at 500,000 francs ; the “ Jarretiere,” “Elephant 
 of Siam,’’ and other diamonds, en plaque, presented to Napo* 
 
IN THE VESTIBULE OF HONOR. 
 
 297 
 
 leon III. by different sovereigns ; a sword hilt in diamonds, 
 made for Charles X. ; a watch in diamonds, originally destined 
 for the Dey of Algiers ; and others in infinite variety, priceless 
 as nameless. It goes without saying that this tempting and 
 dangerous mass of wealth has been at every moment of the day 
 guarded by gensd'armes at all sides; that a circling and on- 
 moving body of visitors have been constantly passing around it 
 (no positive stop before it being permitted); and that the pride 
 of many a grand dame in her personal adornments of jewelry, has 
 received rude shocks from this unfortunate opportunity' ofcom- 
 parison. But what does not necessarily reveal itself is, that, 
 supplementing the laborious care of the day', the whole case has 
 every night been lowered, by machinery, into a fireproof and 
 thiefproof vault at the bottom of the building, iron plates let 
 down above it, and the beds of the attendants spread on the 
 top of those plates, so as to make an absolute and perfect safety' 
 for what was properly held invaluable. 
 
 Almost immediately adjoining the great exhibition last 
 noticed, was the pavilion devoted first to the Sevres Porce¬ 
 lains, displaying the very' highest blended arts of the modeller 
 and the painter. Among the objects of first interest in this 
 charming collection, grouped principally at the sides of the 
 pavilion, may be mentioned the following literal gems: the 
 two large and celebrated vases, the “Neptune” and the 
 “Opera”; two superb cydinder vases, one representing the 
 “ City' of Paris,’’ by Celos, and the other “ Flanders,’’ by 
 Bulot; two other vases, the “ Vintage,” by' Derichsweiler, and 
 the “Triumph of Truth,” by' Abel Schilt ; a matchless panel¬ 
 painting, the “ Labors of Hercules,” by Lameire ; two Chinese 
 Cabinets, with Persian decorations in colors and gold ; a jewel- 
 coffer of great elaboration, by Avisse ; an ovoid cabinet, of 
 gold decoration on blue, matchlessly beautiful, by' David ; 
 and a jardiniere with plateau, decorated in colors and gold, by 
 Bonnuit, after designs by Emile Renard. Let it be said, at 
 once, of this wondrous Sevres work, that no previous exhibi- 
 i ion has equalled the pieces in absolute perfection; though 
 the favored visitors of past years at the manufactory at Sevres 
 
298 
 
 PARIS US' 78 . 
 
 have necessarily seen the excellence equalled and the variety 
 many times repeated. 
 
 Nearly the same may be said of the exhibition of Gobelin 
 Tapestries, having place in the same pavilion, as also the 
 Beauvais. Prominent among the Gobelins, which those not 
 enslaved by the canons of antique art consider quite equal to 
 the best of the old, were eight decorative panels, intended for 
 the buffet of the Opera, with subjects as follows - “Wine,” 
 “Fruits,’’ “ The Chase,” “The Fishes,” “The Pates,” “The 
 Ices,” “The Tea,” and “The Coffee”—all by M. Mazerolle. 
 And succeeding, the exquisite pieces : “ Earth and Water,” 
 after Le Brun; the “Madonna of St. Jerome,” and “The 
 Visitation,’’ after Italian masters; the “Conqueror,” by 
 Ehrman ; “Selene,” by Machard ; “Modelling” and “Sculp¬ 
 ture,” two decorative panels, by Le Chevalier-Chevignard; 
 “The Study,’’after Fragonard; “Penelope;” “ St. Agnes ; ” 
 “Melancholy; ” “St. Elizabeth of Hungary,” after a tapestry 
 of 1594, belonging to La Marechale MacMahon ; and a cai'pette 
 of more than 100 yards, with green, yellow and red flowers and 
 branches on a black ground, equally novel and beautiful, and 
 destined for the Palace of Fontainebleau. In the exhibition 
 of the Beauvais,’’’immediately succeeding the Gobelins, were 
 “The Lion Grown Old,” the “Cock and Pearl,” and the 
 “Wolf Become Shepherd”—all after Oudry; “Dogs,” 
 “ Hares,” “ Pheasants ” and “ Ducks,” after Desportes ; “ Dead 
 Nature,” after Monnoyer. 
 
 These rare exhibitions literally filled that portion of the 
 Vestibule o'f Honor extending southward, or left, from the 
 centre entrance. At the extremity, under the grand pavilion 
 of the ehd dome, was the equestrian statue of Charlemagne, 
 by Rochet. This noble statue, full of character though by no 
 means strikingly original, had the singular honor of being 
 elevated on a monument literally the body cf a miniature 
 church, in bronze, with the smaller works of art of the 
 founder set in the sides as in niches. 
 
 This completing the curiosities of the southern end of the 
 Vestibule, turn we to the contents of the opposite end, the 
 
IN THE VESTIB ULE OF HONOR. 
 
 299 
 
 northern—once more proceeding from the great clock under 
 the central dome. 
 
 On the right of the clock, occupying nearly a correspond¬ 
 ent position to that of the “ crown diamonds ” of France, was 
 a vitrine containing the “ English diamonds ”—generic term, 
 including all gems of that derivation. This collection, though 
 not strikingly large, is said to have been worth about ^2,000,- 
 000 or $10,000,000. Of the special features composing it, only 
 a few can be mentioned. Among the first meeting the view, 
 was a crown formed of a violet velvet cap, literally covered 
 with pearls of the greatest size and perfection, the whole band 
 or circlet in very large diamonds. Another diadem, contain¬ 
 ing no less than eighty-six diamonds of great size and un¬ 
 equalled lustre, is said to have had in the centre the cele¬ 
 brated “ Kohinoor,” or “ Mountain of Light,” long known as 
 one of the most inestimable possessions of the Ouecn of 
 England. Seeing it, the Governor took leave to doubt, at the 
 moment, and takes leave to doubt, to-day, whether that 
 marvellous brilliant was really present, or whether its place 
 was not filled by the splendid substitute well known for so 
 long a time to have held the place of it at the Tower of Lon¬ 
 don, while Her Majesty kept the original in personal charge 
 at Windsor Castle. If so much jealousy has all the while 
 existed with reference to its charge, by the Queen, how is it 
 likely that the Kohinoor would be sent across the Channel 
 and allowed to remain for six months in an exhibition which 
 she did not visit ? Can we not have some official statement, 
 settling the question whether we really saw the Kohinoor in 
 this instance? And if such a statement has been made, when 
 was it made, and who saw it ? 
 
 A double diadem follows, in this collection, of diamonds and 
 emeralds, bearing in the centre the great stone of Kandavass} r , 
 estimated at nearly one million of dollars, and that would be 
 worth more than twice as much, but for a defect not apparent 
 to any one but a lapidary. This is succeeded by probably the 
 most beautiful and certainly the costliest collar in the world, 
 composed of one hundred and eight diamonds, with the 
 
300 
 
 PARIS IN 78 . 
 
 largest known emerald supplying the centre piece. Then fol¬ 
 low collars, agraffes, clasps, &c., in endless number and im¬ 
 mense value ; two small Indian shields, the one studded with 
 large diamonds in the centre and the other with still larger 
 emeralds ; pistols, veritably incrusted with gems, and sword- 
 hilts similarly buried in brilliants. 
 
 From this, one of the most brilliant (no pun intended) ex¬ 
 hibits in the whole exhibition, we must pass to the Indian Pa¬ 
 vilion of the Prince of Wales, and the collection filling and 
 surrounding it. This stood still to the right of the clock in 
 the centre, filling a large part of the remaining space of the 
 Vestibule of Honor, and extending backward into that part 
 of the Section of Strangers especially belonging to Great 
 Britain. 
 
 Of the Pavilion, one cannot think of any words to over¬ 
 praise its beauty and taste; albeit a French critic says of it 
 (we translate):—“ It is borrowed, above all, from those sou¬ 
 venirs of the Punjaub or of Cashmere, which make Indian 
 models really English. It is not of the style of Calcutta, nor 
 of Madras, nor of Delhi, nor of Benares, the sacred city of 
 the Ganges. It is much more fanciful. To find the idea for a 
 construction of this kind, double-storied, and surrounded 
 with thin wooden columns, the whole painted in sombre red ; 
 with the arabesques square ; with coquettish and mysterious 
 windows, finely indented ; with quantities of cupolas, and, on 
 the whole, the aspect of a red kettle ;—the architect, Mr. 
 Clarke, needed to mount to the Higher Indies.” In spite of 
 this delicate ridicule, all the while to some extent describing 
 it, the Pavilion was very handsome, a 3 already said—the two 
 ends being two-storied kiosks, each crowned by four flat- 
 round Mohammedan domes, and each slenderly columned at 
 both stories; while the connection, of some length, was made 
 by a colonnade of one story, with balustraded practicable 
 roof; and the kiosks giving admission to the privileged had 
 their free ornamentation added to by rich curtains. 
 
 In this Pavilion, itself sufficiently a curiosity to warrant the 
 length of description, was displayed the shawls, tissues, and 
 
IN THE VESTIBULE OF HONOR. 
 
 301 
 
 many of the silken and fine woollen goods belonging to the 
 collection brought home by the Prince of Wales from his 
 Indian visit in 1875—a part purchases, but a large proportion 
 presents of loyalty from the rulers and nobles of the Oriental 
 dominion. The Governor had enjoyed the opportunity of 
 inspecting the whole of the collection at the India Museum at 
 South Kensington, in 1876, and had then expressed the 
 opinion that a passage aoross the Atlantic would be well re¬ 
 paid by that single privilege. No need to say that he was 
 glad to renew the acquaintance, and once more to inspect 
 some of the rarest works of the East, under auspices addition¬ 
 ally favorable. 
 
 There is no intention of attempting to describe or enumer¬ 
 ate the articles of this collection, contained in a multitude of 
 glass cases surrounding the Pavilion and the equestrian statue 
 hereafter to be noticed. Jewels and jewelled articles of every 
 conceivable name and every variety of precious stone ; 
 swords, daggers and firearms, with the stocks crusted with 
 gems ; boxes and cylinders of solid carved gold, in which the 
 addresses of welcome of different dependencies had been 
 made to the Prince ; other boxes and caskets of the most 
 fragrant and precious woods, rich with the most elaborate in¬ 
 laying and the most laborious carving possible to that mate¬ 
 rial ; silken and velvet stuff', and cloths-of-gold, beggaring 
 the ideas of so-called civilized nations ; saddlecloths and 
 housings used by the Prince in various receptions, all oi pure 
 bullion embroidery, and some with the flowers in precious 
 stones ; pictures, in costly settings, of most of the Oriental 
 dignitaries; robes of honor, carpets, umbrellas of state, jew¬ 
 elled bucklers, fans, sandals, works in the rarest tropical 
 feathers—these, and a hundred rare and valuable objects im¬ 
 possible to dwell in any one memory in particulars, made up 
 a whole suggesting that the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments 
 may have been less exaggerated than commonly supposed, 
 and bringing the costly luxuries of the Southern Orient to 
 Western Europe, as they have never before been brought in 
 all ether instances combined. 
 
302 
 
 PARIS IN 78 . 
 
 These emblems, at once of 'the connection of the Prince of 
 Wales with the Exposition, in the arrangement of which he 
 had borne so prominent a part, and with the power of England 
 in the East,—concluded and in some sense culminated, in a 
 noble bronze equestrian statue of the Prince, standing in 
 front of the Pavilion, and conveying very perfectly the form 
 and face of the subject, bare-headed, wearing the uniform of a 
 Field Marshal, and ordered by Sir Albert Sassoon, of Bombay, 
 at the time of the Prince’s visit to India, for erection at 
 Bombay. 
 
 One other object of interest in the Vestibule of Honor, de¬ 
 mands notice—standing at the extreme north end of the Ves¬ 
 tibule, and thus occupying the same corresponding place in 
 that end, held by the Statue of Charlemagne in the other. 
 This was the Trophy of Canada, a tall and tasteful erection 
 in native Canadian woods, of some four stories, and graceful 
 enough in shape and construction to have been an actual 
 temple to Labor. In the trophy itself was necessarily em¬ 
 bodied much of the wealth of Canada, in her unequalled tim¬ 
 ber production ; and around it were hung canoes and other 
 productions characteristic other people and climate, making 
 up a veritable artistic triumph for the Dominion, and show¬ 
 ing how much could be made out of plain materials by the un¬ 
 erring hand of Taste. 
 
ixixxint'. 
 
 THE FACADES OF THE RUE DES NATIONS. 
 
 Starting out from the Vestibule of Honor, which we have so 
 closely examined, and running down from a little to the right 
 of the central clock in the vestibule, all the way to the Gal¬ 
 lery of Labor (“ Gallerie de Travail ”) at the other end of the 
 Main Palace, was an open space, adjoining on the northern 
 side, the Strangers' Section of the Palace, forming an uncov¬ 
 ered street designated as the Rue des Nations (“ Street of 
 Nations ”), and having on the southern side the Facades con¬ 
 nected with different national exhibitions, erected by the vari¬ 
 ous countries in conformity with their own ideas, and sup¬ 
 plying somewhat of the deficiency in what could be called 
 “ national structures,” shown by this Exposition in compari¬ 
 son with that of 1867. It is with this “ Rue des Nations ” and 
 the Facades forming it that we have next to do, in a brief ex¬ 
 amination of the styles of architecture displayed in those 
 Facades. 
 
 [In this examination, necessarily the styles and orders of the 
 architecture become important features. Meanwhile, neither 
 the writer nor the great body of his readers can be expected 
 either to use or understand the technical terms of the science ; 
 and all attempted here is the use of such words, suggesting 
 comparisons with commonly understood shapes, as seem most 
 likely to convey ideas of the appearance of different buildings 
 without the aid of illustrations.] 
 
 This typical and extraordinary “ street ” was considerably 
 over one-third of a mile in extent—2,115 feet ,n point of fact— 
 or equal to more than ten “ blocks ” of an ordinary street in 
 the city of New York. Its whole length was by no means 
 filled with the Facades, no less than five of the French build¬ 
 ings intervening at intervals, while a much wider “ break ” 
 was made from the space occupied by the Pavilion of the City 
 of Paris, and the two broad transverse allies crossing the 
 
30i 
 
 PARIS IN J 78. 
 
 whole Champ de Mars from the Porte Rapp to the Porte 
 Dessaix on the eastern side of the last-mentioned building, 
 and correspondingly from the Wine Exhibit to the Russian 
 and Hungarian annexes on the western. 
 
 Coming first of the foreign list (non-French), as leaving the 
 Vestibule of Honor, were no less than five buildings forming 
 the English Facade,—a number well warranted by the extent 
 of the exhibit of Great Britain, and equally by the excellent 
 taste giving to it so much and such agreeable variety. 
 
 The first of these fine edifices was a seignorial mansion of 
 the reign of Queen Anne, of red brick, with white stone bal- 
 lusters, and occupied by the English Commission. The sec¬ 
 ond was the Pavilion of the Prince of Wales, built after 
 designs by Mr. Gilbert Redgrave, and offering one of the 
 most beautiful possible examples of the Elizabethan style of 
 architecture. (The French say, “reproducing the front of a 
 castle which the Prince possesses in England,” which may or 
 may not be true, and may or may not interfere with the 
 alleged “ design ” by Mr. Redgrave.) Enough that it was very 
 beautiful as an erection and exquisitely appropriate for its 
 office. It afforded within, a vestibule, a dining-hall, sky¬ 
 lighted, and showing the extreme of tasteful luxury in decor¬ 
 ation, walls, tapestries, carpets, pictures, and indeed all appli¬ 
 ances ; and it is doubtful whether any apartment having the 
 same Durpose, either in England or on the Continent, could 
 have been found more suggestive of quiet and perfect princely 
 elegance. It also supplied an exquisite sleeping chamber for 
 the Princess of Wales ; the official bureau of the Prince, and 
 several other apartments. Meanwhile, it is pleasant to say, 
 that visits to it were made possible, through the courtesy of 
 Mr. Cunliffe Owen, Secretary to the Commission, and so well 
 known as one of the ablest promoters of international exhi¬ 
 bitions. Following this came a mansion, appropriate tc$' a 
 merchant, say in the suburbs of one of the cities of the Mid¬ 
 lands, built of timber and plaster ; then a delicious little cot¬ 
 tage, with equally delicious little panes of glass in its diminu¬ 
 tive sashes, and the air of having been built for roses to 
 
NATIONAL FACADES. 
 
 305 
 
 embrace and climb over ; and then a country house, equally 
 in keeping, of the time of William III. Besides these, a noble 
 gateway may be mentioned, leading in between the two prin¬ 
 cipal buildings ; the posts of stone, of weight and elaboration 
 fitting them for a country residence of distinction, and sur¬ 
 mounted by rampant lions, and the gate of ornamented 
 wrought iron. 
 
 With a certain appropriateness as connecting two peoples 
 of the same language, the Facade of the United States of 
 America comes next to be considered, after that of Great 
 Britain ; and in considering it, the Governor begs to take 
 issue with a considerable number of undervaluers, in news¬ 
 papers and otherwhere, some of whom have spoken of it as a 
 “mere backwoods schoolhouse,” and a French authority 
 characterized it as a “ dock-warehouse.” He takes leave to 
 say that it was somewhat odd, but characteristically so, and 
 showed the rare art of combining the modest and the effective 
 in an extraordinary degree. To give an idea of the shape of 
 this building, making no pretence to eclectic architecture, it 
 is only necessary to say that the ground floor represented 
 five dice laid side by side ; the next story, three dice laid upon 
 the central three of the five lower; and one die laid upon the 
 central one of the three beneath it, forming the low square 
 tower of the top story—open, and with the national arms in 
 the centre and the national flag floating above it. Each of 
 the “ dice ” of the ground floor and story above had very 
 large windows (showing the characteristic of the “ Crystal 
 Palace ” of the period, so far)—the lower, square-headed and 
 the upper round-headed. Below the cornice of the upper 
 story ran a close row of shields, bearing the arms and names 
 of States; and on the pilasters of both stories were other and 
 more richly ornamented shields, with upper and lower 
 scrolled appendages. A very small square portico, with the 
 words “ Etats Unis” over it, formed the entrance. "Was all 
 this, in natural woods, common-looking and shabby? Let the 
 question be best answered by the fact that very many visitors, 
 without any one of them being able to explain why, indefina- 
 
306 
 
 PARIS IN ’78. 
 
 bly thought of the Hyde Park Crystal Palace (London, 1851) 
 in looking at it, and developed the agreement in after and 
 accidental comparison of notes. Need it be said that the 
 American Commission was here quartered, and that it showed 
 appropriate American characteristics throughout? 
 
 The Italian Facade is the next to be considered ; and the 
 Commander G. B. F. Basile, Professor of Architecture at the 
 Royal University of Palermo, honored his country equally 
 with himself in the design furnished for the occasion. It is 
 said by the French authorities, to have been “modelled after 
 the beautiful facade of a Milanese palace,” which may or may 
 not be true, as the Governor remembers nothing at Milan 
 from which it can have been copied, even in general features. 
 The centre was a square monumental porte, with escutch- 
 eoncd top, and a noble marble column, with Corinthian capi¬ 
 tals, on either side. Spanning this, rose over the centre a 
 round arched pediment, elaborate in architecture, pierced to 
 allow of the dark curtains showing from within. At the key 
 of this arch was a rich arabesque finial, from which rose the 
 flagstaff with the Italian flag. At each side of the bottom of 
 this arch, was a sitting emblematic figure ; and in the centre 
 of the pediment the arms of Italy were broadly displayed on 
 an imperial mantle. On each side of this portal was a wingj 
 the extreme cornice lining with the bottom of the main arch 
 already described, and each wing having two entrances, each 
 of them being diminished reproductions of the centre, with 
 columns, round arch, and escutcheons. At the termination, 
 each wing had a small statued finial ; and literally the whole 
 facade was rich with elaborate ornamentation, as proper for 
 that Italy which is recognized as the “ home of Art.” The 
 heavy dark curtains draped and festooned within the main 
 entrance, and also within the corresponding entrances of the 
 wings, contrasted somewhat sadly with the light color of the 
 material of the erection, and gave the whole a certain grace¬ 
 ful sombreness which may well have been designed, in 
 memory of the deceased “ Re Galantuomo.” 
 
 Within the Italian Facade the ornamentation was in keeping 
 
NATIONAL FACADES. 
 
 307 
 
 with the front ; and also within were to be seen a fine bust of 
 Victor Emmanuel ; portraits of King Humbert and Queen Mar¬ 
 guerite ; many statues, statuettes and medallions, representing 
 Italian artists, poets, statesmen, &c. ; and some of the very 
 finest golden mosaics of Florence and Murano. 
 
 The Swedish-Norwegian Facade followed next after that of 
 Italy, half Europe being thus shrunken to a step, and the land 
 of the fiords brought side by side with that of the Poland the 
 Arno. In this, as in the Swedish building on the Trocadero 
 grounds, there was a marked suggestion of Swiss architecture, 
 though less pronounced than in that instance, and with much 
 more of solidity in the erection. It really consisted of two 
 chalets, gabled to the view, with the right hand one thrusting 
 forward its upper story, much broader and lower than the left; 
 the left battered, and much sharper-roofed than the right; and 
 a lower gallery, side-roof to view, connecting them. A small 
 sharp-roofed entrance marked the centre—the arms of Sweden 
 and Norway being quartered under the peaks of both this and 
 the right-hand chalet; while solid-looking and somewhat long 
 round-headed windows, with double pilasters between, a part 
 of them bearing shields of arms, gave at once light an d light¬ 
 ness to the whole. This facade was in natural woods (princi¬ 
 pally of northern pine), and its effect was generally admitted 
 to be strikingly appropriate while full of a poetical simplicity. 
 
 The Japanese Facade was at once a wonder of strength, sim¬ 
 plicity and ugliness. It was built by artisans from Jeddo, and 
 consequently no outsider ever knew for what it was intended, 
 as a representation. Some said, a temple ; some said, a country 
 house ; still others, a fortification. The Governor suggests, 
 additionally, a barn, with intention to keep the contents very 
 safely. For nothing else was ever so strong as the heavy san¬ 
 dal-wood gates, and the iron-clasped posts that held them. 
 Within these, there was a gabled porch, with the word “ Japan ” 
 very boldly displayed ; and still behind this was a low, flat 
 building, with an awning-cornice, and not even a pretence at 
 grace. This, outside, merely, No one has denied the ex¬ 
 cellence of the Japanese exhibit, or the fact that the nation is 
 
 21 
 
308 
 
 PARIS IN ’78. 
 
 rapidly working its way to the front, even in the matter of 
 international expositions. It should be said, additionally, that 
 they had a fountain, on each side of the inner entrance, a gi¬ 
 gantic flower in majolica ; and that the plans of Tokio and 
 chart of Japan, within, were both markedly attractive. 
 
 Naturally, the Chinese Facade comes into consideration, 
 close beside that of Japan. It is literally impossible to des¬ 
 cribe it, at the same time that the general effect must be ad¬ 
 mitted to have been striking, and probably appropriate. The 
 impression of the facade would have been low and square, with 
 the wing portions of solid national brick-work with porcelain- 
 work plaques in the centre, and the entrance sunken, small, 
 and square, with an ornamental tablet over the door,—but for 
 the cornice, which was fearfully elaborate, and turned up at 
 the ends like a Chinese junk, and the higher central tower, 
 which bore the same aspect of an enraged colossal butterfly, 
 carrying the whole structure away with it after the manner of 
 Aladdin’s Lamp or Ilassan’s Ca-rpet. Perhaps, after a long 
 survey of all this, and of the hideous dragon flag flying over it, 
 in contrast with the red ball of Japan on white, so near, one 
 should have comprised the whole comment in a few words: 
 ‘‘It is extraordinary ; it is almost fearful ; but it is Chinese!” 
 
 The Facade of Spain was exquisitely beautiful—a phrase 
 conveying literally nothing, without specifications, and yet 
 more conclusive than all explanations possible. It was Moor¬ 
 ish, in the somewhat elaborate style of that order : a central 
 building of two stories, both columned, and the heads of the 
 lower columns wide-spread, fretted, and running into each 
 other, while the roof widened in an overhanging cornice, with 
 arms and decorations below it, and a Moorish pinnacle 
 crowned all ; a lower wing on either side, with an immense 
 bulge-round-headed window filling nearly all the lower story 
 and a colonnaded gallery of five arches forming the upper ; 
 and a square tower supplying either end, with bulge-round¬ 
 headed entrance-wmy; a great circular outer arch, with the 
 lower part of the circle cut away, still above, and the upper 
 story, triple-windowed and rising to.the height of the central 
 
NATIONAL FACADES 
 
 301 ) 
 
 building, bearing the national shield of arms, crowned at the 
 embattled cornice with flagstaff's and the national flag above 
 each. It goes without saying, that all this structure was 
 highly ornamented, and that it bore many indefinable remind¬ 
 ers of that wonder among the buildings of earth, the Alham¬ 
 bra at Grenada. 
 
 The Facade of Austria-Hungary, perhaps one of the most 
 remarkable of the succession, was simply a very long colon¬ 
 nade, forming a portico, the columned arches round and their 
 crowns elaborately sculptured in figures, wreaths, scrolls, &c.; 
 while the whole entablature was also richly sculptured ; a line 
 of pedestalled statues of life size arrayed along the front above 
 it; statues of the Emperor Francis Joseph, Beethoven and 
 others of the artistic notabilities of the Empire, holding sim¬ 
 ilar positions between the arches, at the ground level ; nar¬ 
 row buildings, of three stories, with windows, and similarly 
 ornamented, forming the terminations of a design equally 
 strange and fanciful; and a tall, spiral-fluted flagstaff at the 
 inner corner of each of the last named, bearing aloft the flag 
 of the United Empire which has lost Venice and the head¬ 
 ship of Germany, but risen higher in the regard of the world 
 with both losses. 
 
 The Russian Facade, with some reminders of the Moham¬ 
 medan combined with the Muscovite, is said to have been a 
 reproduction, at least in part, of the old Palace of Kolomna, 
 near Moscow, where Peter the Great was born, and whence 
 sprung, consequently, much of the greatness of modern Russia. 
 It consisted of two towers, with a flat connection : the right- 
 hand one square, with Saracen open gallery and chamfered 
 roof of four sides, an elaborate staircase (borrowed from the 
 Kremlin) descending to the ground level ; the left-hand one 
 broader, with Tartar arch sprung in lront of the broad-topped 
 chamfered roof, and the principal entrance between two virtual 
 towers rising from the ground, windowed in two stories, and 
 with a balcony dividing them at the second. All this, mean¬ 
 while, in wood, with some of the peculiarities of the “ log cabin,” 
 and forming a whole as incongruous as the first Napoleon be- 
 
310 
 
 PARIS IN 78. 
 
 lieved the Russian character to be, with the polish of Western 
 Europe overlaying all the barbarism of the Tartar. 
 
 Of the Swiss Facade, one was puzzled, at the first glance, to 
 know what to say, and precisely what it really meant. It was 
 so natural to expect a chalet of wood, with hanging eaves, 
 balconies, and carved inscriptions, that nothing else seemed 
 admissable, from the Land of Tell. A second and longer glance 
 revealed what was intended ; and then it was fully understood 
 how noble was the design and how appropriately executed. 
 What we at first saw was a veritable gateway, open, round- 
 arched, and between two massive battered piers of channeled- 
 jointed heavy stones—the rampant bears on the plain top of 
 either pier, holding shields-of-arms between them ; above this, 
 a flat round arch, deep, open, and the inside of it of blue, sown 
 with golden stars—with a clock at the top of the lower arch, 
 above it a bell on a slight frame, and figures on either side 
 (said to be relics of the battle-field of Morat, from the Museum 
 of Zurich) holding hammers for striking the hours; a railing 
 on either side of the clock, extending to crows’-nests similarly 
 railed, at the intersection of the arch and the piers; above the 
 upper arch the structure extending into a roof flat at top 
 and with the double pitch of the old Dutch house in descent 
 to overhanging eaves ; and a narrow conical belfry, with bell, 
 crowning the summit. This was what we at first saw, and so 
 saw an apparent incongruity. What we afterward saw was 
 that this heavy arch was a reproduction of one of the old 
 Swiss city-gates, through which the Men of Grutli may have 
 marched home from victory; and then the wooden-work as¬ 
 sumed reason as copied from the best Swiss domestic archi¬ 
 tecture, and the noble motto of those Men of Grutli crowned 
 the whole with a charm as there inscribed ; “ Un Pour Tous! 
 Tous Pour Un !” (“ One for all! all for one !”—stolen by Alex¬ 
 andre Dumas as the cry of his Three Guardsmen). There was 
 a plain wing at either side, with enormous half-round-arched 
 window in each, filled with the wrought glass of Zurich ; and 
 above the windows (a little suggesting those of a prison) hung 
 under the cornices the shields of the Confederate Cantons. 
 
XZXVL 
 
 FACADES; AND THE CITY-OF-PARIS PAVILION. 
 
 The Belgian Facade has been proclaimed, by the general 
 voice, the finest and most characteristic of all in the Rue des 
 Nations, though there may occasionally be more than one 
 dissenting from that verdict. It was said, by authority, to 
 have been “constructed in the style of the chateaux and old 
 monuments of Belgium, but without reproducing any one edi¬ 
 fice in particular;” and it is known to have been planned by 
 a Belgian architect, M. Janlet, and built by Belgian workmen, 
 of marble, stone and other materials brought from that indus¬ 
 trious and prosperous Flanders of the present. It was, mean¬ 
 while, by no means easy to describe many of the features 
 absolutely needing the technical terms of architecture. It 
 may be said, however, that two elaborate narrow fronts, with 
 a single lower window in each, rose to a second story with a 
 double window supported by caryatides at either side ; and 
 still above, an elaborate scrolled gable, pointed, with large 
 round window ; that between the two, falling back a few feet, 
 rose the centre, of massive stone—a square entrance under a 
 round arch, with, still above, the windowed third story of a 
 chateau, and, yet above, a domed roof and pointed gable of 
 the very highest elaboration. Left of all, rose a clock tower, 
 joined to the leftermost of the first-mentioned by the body of 
 a lower building, side roof to view, with galleried second 
 story. This tower was eight-sided, above, and diminished 
 into a knobbed low spire, also eight-sided, with an open belfry 
 crowning all. Above the central arch, the proud modern 
 “Belgique” stood; and it scarcely needs to be said that 
 within this noble facade were not only the rooms of the Bel¬ 
 gian Comm : ssion, but began an exhibition only equalled by 
 one or two of the contributing nations. 
 
 The Greek Facade was intended as a reproduction of an 
 Athenian mansion of the time of Pericles, with a portico 
 
312 
 
 PARIS IN 78. 
 
 more or less borrowed from the Parthenon. So much said, 
 the character of its architecture is at once conveyed—plain, 
 chaste, Greek, actually seeming tame in the neighborhood of 
 so much deserving of the term flamboyant. The portico was 
 a practicable balcony ; and there were two entrances, near the 
 right one of which stood, on a high pedestal, a statue of 
 Minerva with the Greek name inscribed “ Athenae.” This 
 facade seemed to cling closely to antiquity : it is doubtful 
 whether anywhere else, along the whole Rue des Nations, 
 there was better proof than Greece gave, within, of being in 
 harmony with modern progress. 
 
 The Danish Facade, much smaller and really very different, 
 had a certain reminder of that of Belgium, in the style of 
 erection. It was of red brick and white stone, with stucco 
 columns imitating marble at the entrance of the tower on the 
 right; and the arms of Denmark were a little more showily 
 displayed than any other quartering in the Rue des Nations, 
 below the rounded and pointed gable of the same tower. To 
 the left of this, was a veritable house-front, of two stories, 
 with a doorway and two windows in each, and an ornamented 
 scrolled gable—the plain surface of the front in white stucco. 
 Rumor has it that there were difficulties about the moneys, 
 leading to this facade being far less elaborate than had been 
 first intended. 
 
 The Facade of South and Central America had a peculiar 
 charm of oddity, in its left square tower and right gable, con¬ 
 nected by a lower building with three ornamented Moorish 
 columns forming a colonnade at the ground level, and a glass- 
 enclosed balcony above them. Taken as a whole, this struc¬ 
 ture seemed much more likely to belong to Andalusia or some 
 portion of Portugal, whence many of the settlers of both 
 South and Central America came, than to the lands whence it 
 emanated ; and it was voted, as understood, ires charmante, by 
 the general voice, with the reflection that it symbolized the 
 very spirit of Spanish-American derivation and life, as did the 
 exhibits of the nations erecting it. 
 
 The next Facade was really a quadruple one—that of Persia, 
 
FACADES; AND PARIS PAVILION. 
 
 313 
 
 Siam, Tunis and Morocco. It also contained the exhibition of 
 Cambodia, and that of Annam, making what the French drolly 
 called “ Six tetes sous un meme bonnet ” (six heads under one 
 bonnet). It goes without saying, that the architecture was 
 “ somewhat mixed,” the portion contributed by Persia having 
 plenty of pointed work with flowers straying over a blue 
 ground, more or less representing the Mosque of the Shah, at 
 Ispahan ; that of Siam showing plenty of brown wood, mixed 
 up rather diabolically than otherwise, and with the White Ele¬ 
 phant at the gate ; that of Tunis being decidedly Moresco, with 
 the continual mixture of belts of white and red, blue and red ; 
 and that of Morocco very like that of Tunis, with a difference 
 that all could see and none could explain. 
 
 Another association followed—that of the Grand Duchy of 
 Luxembourg, the Republic of the Val d'Andorre, the Republic 
 of St. Marin, and the Principality of Monaco. TheVal d’Andorre, 
 b}' virtue of its high position in the mountains, contributed the 
 top balustrade ; the window below, with an escutcheon of three 
 towers, belonged to St. Marin ; also below, the front of the 
 porte, charged with lozenges of silver and red, was the property 
 of Monaco; while Luxembourg contributed the much more 
 important part of the reception rooms, wdth the lodge copied 
 from a Spanish mansion of the 16th century belonging to the 
 Grand Duke. What gave, however, most of character to the 
 whole, was the handsome octagonal tower, with coquettish 
 crosses, thrown out a little on the Rue des Nations, and prob¬ 
 ably belonging to the whole combination. 
 
 We come, now, to the Facade of Portugal, really one of the 
 most impressive of the whole array, and, with whatever of 
 propriety involved, certainly one of the most beautiful of all. 
 It was, undoubtedly, a reproduction of some part of the match¬ 
 less Belem Castle, near Lisbon ; but only words of the highest 
 architectural authority (not here at command) could describe 
 it adequately. Speaking in general, it was a church-porch, 
 with high round arch of great elaborateness, floriated and 
 pointed at the centre, between two broad piers, magnificently 
 ornamented, with canopied niches and statues at the centres. 
 
314 
 
 PARIS IN ’ 78 . 
 
 and tapering in chamfers to points at top. In the centre, 
 above the arch, the point of that arch extended higher than 
 the side-points, ending in an elaborate crossed finial, with can¬ 
 opied statue above the level of the square entablature forming 
 the cornice ; and between the centre finial and the side-points, 
 a floriated railing crossed, forming the upper finish. Within 
 the main arch, two entrance-ways, with flat-round headings, 
 had an ornamented pier in the centre, with the statue of a hi¬ 
 dalgo at near the springing of the arches, other statues match¬ 
 ing this at the sides ; and above, each entrance-way was carried 
 up to a Gothic arch, with pictures in bas-relief filling the head¬ 
 ings, and the arms of Portugal holding the space immediately 
 below the key of the main rounded arch. Within, the decora¬ 
 tion was only less elaborate than this so imperfectly described ; 
 and the whole was well worthy of the national collection to 
 which this formed the introduction. 
 
 The Facade of Holland was said to have been a reproduction 
 of some parts of the Hotel de Ville at the Hague—a statement 
 which the Governor's memory can neither accept nor deny. 
 At all events, the style of the structure, in red brick and white 
 stone, horizontally striped, was very effective; and the style 
 was both pleasing and substantial. The facade was a square 
 structure, of two stories, with a central gabled elevation rising 
 above the balustradcd side-roof; and at the right of all a 
 tower with entrance-way and window, ending in a cupola of a 
 balcony and two stories, entirely open, telescoped, and 
 crowned with a point bearing the rampant lion. In the centre 
 of the gabled elevation, were the arms of Holland, elabor¬ 
 ately displayed ; and on the entablature of this, above the 
 roof and below the arms, four niches held the same number 
 of statues. The entrance-way was small and simple, with a 
 niched statue above it and a head in a circular opening at the 
 level of the second-story heading. It only remains to say 
 that there were two main windows, two smaller ones, and a 
 circled door-heading, at the ground floor, four windows at the 
 second story, and one on the gabled elevation,—and that these 
 windows were all diamond-paned, with singular appropriate- 
 
FACADES; AND PARIS PAVILION. 
 
 315 
 
 ness to the horizontal striping of the architecture. This con¬ 
 cludes, in effect, the line of Facades of the Nations, on the 
 Rue of that name. But as the line was broken, at about the 
 middle, by a building of very large size and great importance, 
 there seems a certain appropriateness in introducing that 
 structure and its contents as belonging to the same array. 
 
 This was the Pavilion of the City of Paris, in the erection 
 and the filling of which the “fair City” only embraced the 
 privilege well belonging to it as the scene of one of the great 
 exhibitions,—by there putting on view, under favorable cir¬ 
 cumstances, many of those articles which could not so well 
 come into the general display of the country inclosing it. 
 
 This Pavilion, of which the architect was M. Bouvard, was 
 in general shape an elongated square, rather low in effect as 
 a whole, but relieved by the gable points of raised roofs at the 
 corners, with the arms of the city in the tympan of the pedi¬ 
 ment of each, and flagstaff's, bearing banderols, rising from 
 heavy ornamented piers at each side of the gable points, and 
 from other small pointed false gables in the middle of the 
 sides. There were several principal entrances, under the 
 gable points before named ; and the sides were colonnades 
 supported by thin ornamented iron columns—cast iron play¬ 
 ing a very important part throughout the construction, and 
 ornamentation in that metal being carried to great height and 
 with unexceptionable taste. 
 
 In the interior of this pavilion were displayed, as already in¬ 
 dicated, innumerable articles connected with the city, and 
 coming under the provinces of the managements of the Fine 
 Arts, Public Works, Public Assistance, Central Administra¬ 
 tion, Primary and Professional Instruction, Public Waj's, 
 Water and Drainage, Promenades and Plantations, Public 
 Health, Fire Service, and other departments. 
 
 In the First Hall, on the right of the entrance, was the office 
 of the Prefect of Police of the Exposition ; on the left, the 
 office of the Expositionary Commission. On panels, right and 
 left, were large pictures of religious subjects. In the Second 
 Hall, at near the entrance, stood a noble typical statue of the 
 
31G 
 
 PARIS JJV ’78 
 
 City of Paris, standing on the bow of a boat bearing the arms 
 of the city and the motto: “ Fluctuat Nec Mergitur.” Here 
 also followed large panels, bearing the names of Paul Dela- 
 roche, Bonnat, Maillart, &c., portraying allegorical and his¬ 
 torical subjects more or less nearly connected with the destiny 
 of Paris. Among these may be mentioned as especially no¬ 
 ticeable, the “Christ” and the “St. Vincent de Paul” of 
 Bonnat; the “Jesus in the Garden of Olives,” of Delacroix; 
 the “ Conquerors of the Bastile,” by Delaroche ; and among 
 the sculptures in near proximity, the “Gloria Victis ” of 
 Mercie, and some of the most imposing works of Chapu, Cabet, 
 Millet and Carrier-Belleuse. 
 
 The hints already given convey sufficiently the practical 
 character of most of the contents of the Pavilion, in which 
 models, reliefs, and special furniture, assisted so powerfully in 
 understanding the great resources and corresponding labors 
 of the city; but of the models it should be remarked, before 
 leaving, that especial interest attached to those of the Church 
 of St. Joseph, in the Quartier dn Temple , and that of the recon¬ 
 structed Hotel de Ville, as it will appear on its completion. 
 
FRENCH ART AT TIIE EXPOSITION. 
 
 In an earlier paper of this volume, “The Exposition That 
 Was Opened ” (VIII), something has been said of the art 
 status of the collection ; and in that paper has also been ex¬ 
 pressed the opinion that the contributions of the different 
 countries—especially the pictures—have been markedly want¬ 
 ing in great works belonging to great names, in comparison 
 with the show made by the same countries in 1867. It is with 
 much gratification that, since the writing of that opinion, the 
 Governor has chanced upon more than one elaborate article 
 conclusively showing that the picture exhibition of 1878 has 
 been immeasurably better than that of 1867. He does not 
 admit the truth of the statement; but it is pleasant to know 
 that those bearing the rank of accomplished critics have been 
 pleased, and that, as a consequence, even a hurried examina¬ 
 tion of the collections of different nations must have a certain 
 interest. 
 
 Incidentally, in other descriptions, some of the more colos¬ 
 sal sculptures of the season have been alluded to—as the 
 “ Renown ” and others, of the Trocadero Palace, the Basin, &c., 
 and the “Charlemagne ’’occupying the southern termination 
 of the Pavilion of Honor of the Main Palace. Of some of 
 the remaining sculptures belonging to the different collec¬ 
 tions there will be a word to say, later on ; at present we 
 have to do with French pictures, with only a word, preceding, 
 of the monument to General Lamoriciere, by Dubois, stand¬ 
 ing on the Rue de France, outside the Fine Art Saloons, and 
 destined for the Cathedral of Nantes. It was a fine soldierly 
 figure, and (judging from portraits) well conveying the char¬ 
 acteristics of that soldier ; but, oddly enough, of the four 
 allegorical figures forming supports at the angles, the two of 
 “ Military Courage ” and “Charity” were in bronze, while the 
 remaining two, “Faith”, and “ Meditation,” were in plaster-— 
 
318 
 
 PATHS IN 78. 
 
 presumably to be supplied by their duplicates in bronze, later. 
 Taken all in all, this monument was a noble one, to one of the 
 true heroes of the Algerian wars, the foe of the Third Em¬ 
 peror at the coup d'etat, and one who, no doubt, owed his spe¬ 
 cial place in the Nantes Cathedral to his having taken com¬ 
 mand of the Papal troops after his exile from France by the 
 Emperor, until their defeat by the Piedmontese at Castelfi- 
 dento. 
 
 The location of the Fine Art Department of the Exposition 
 may be easily understood, even by those who did not visit it, 
 with the explanation that it was principally to be found in a 
 range of buildings at the exact centre of the Main Palace, 
 extending from the Vestibule of Honor at the eastern end to 
 the Gallery of Labor at the Western, and with the Rue des 
 Nations (already examined, as being fronted by the Facades) 
 forming its northern boundary, and the Rue de France, par¬ 
 allel with it, supplying the southern. 
 
 It has been computed that there were from five thousand to 
 six thousand works of pure art in the whole exhibition— 
 France showing about two-tbirds of the whole number; Eng¬ 
 land having about seven hundred ; Belgium and Italy four 
 hundred each ; Germany (pictures only) some two hundred ; 
 the United States of America something less than two hun¬ 
 dred ; and the other countries having varied representations, 
 with only two or three going beyond the latter number. Nec¬ 
 essarily, not only in number but in interest, the French col¬ 
 lection has held pre-eminence, though no occasion is admitted 
 for changing the opinion already enunciated, of the absence 
 of master works. 
 
 In noticing the Pavilion of the Ville de Paris, it has already 
 been said that two of the best works of Leon Bonnat were 
 there on view—his “ Christ on the Cross,” from the Court of 
 Assizes of the Palace of Justice, treading close upon the heels 
 of the most reverent antiquity in portrayal of the Man of 
 Sorrows in his extreme hour,—and his “Saint Vincent de 
 Paul Taking the Irons off a Galley Slave,’’ from the Church of 
 St. Nicholas des Champs, with a very noble individualization 
 
FRENCH ART EXHIBIT 
 
 319 
 
 of that pattern of legendary Christian humility. Of Bonnat’s 
 there was also a second painting from the Palace of Justice— 
 “Justice Between Guilt and Innocence,” telling the story of 
 painful but inevitable decision with great force. This great 
 artist also exhibited several portraits, instinct with his per¬ 
 sonal power—those of “ Don Carlos,” “ M. Thiers,” “ M. Rob¬ 
 ert Fleury,” “ Mme. Pasca,” “ A Lady ” (unnamed), &c. 
 
 Perhaps better known among Americans, than Bonnat, is 
 the dead Corot, many of whose works have crossed the Atlan¬ 
 tic. Of his landscapes in the collection too much cannot be 
 said in approval of their color and feeling ; while evidently he 
 materially improved, during the past few years of his life, in 
 the substitution of finish for the massing of color. Two land¬ 
 scapes by Daubigny attracted, worthily, perhaps, as much at¬ 
 tention as any others in the exhibition. The one was a “ Spring ” 
 in the open country, with blossoming apple-trees in the fore¬ 
 ground, low hills, a flecked blue sky, and a peasant girl wan¬ 
 dering through the half-grown grain with her lover ; the other 
 a “Winter,” with a road through deep snow, a reddish winter 
 sky, straggling trees, circling crows, and a low light wonder¬ 
 fully managed. With these, and of corresponding merit in 
 spite of the yet lower standing of the artists, should be named 
 a landscape by Pontelin, on very large canvas, of a declining 
 field, with trees half bare and melancholy rocks, and a gray 
 sky seeming to emit light at all points ; and one by Sege, of 
 a plain, with a peasant, dogs and sheep in the foreground, and 
 the distance broken by farm houses and a remote church spire, 
 all lying under the warm light of a summer afternoon. 
 
 Still beside these should be mentioned some landscapes by 
 Pelouse, the largest of them a rocky hillside, with a spring in 
 the foreground, some figures kneeling around it, and a twiligh'f 
 sky marking the fact that they are not resting from their daily 
 labor but reposing after it. Another shows some fine trees, 
 with the colors of the sunset behind them, admirably and 
 chastely managed. Ofother landscapes of more than average 
 merit, there were some of the Breton coasts and marine sections 
 adjacent, by MM. Eugene Feyen and Feyen-Perrin, apotheosiz- 
 
320 
 
 PARIS IN ’78. 
 
 ing the fisherwomen and bathing-women of those picturesque 
 regions, and conveying water effects with force and propriety ; 
 some views along the Valley of the Allier, of decided merit, by 
 M. Ilarpignies ; some good work, suggestive of Troyon, by M. 
 Van Marcke, &c. 
 
 Passing from landscape to figure subjects, perhaps it may be 
 said that the most impressive work in the collection was the 
 “Annunciation to the Shepherds,’’ of Bastien Lepage, whose 
 “Haymaking,” in the Salon of the year, should have been on 
 view in the Champ de Mars. The angel, in this picture, falsi¬ 
 fied the usual traditions of art, by being ethereal in suggestion ; 
 and the figures and attitudes of the wondering shepherds, 
 aroused from sleep by their watch-fire, and regarding the ce¬ 
 lestial visitant with wondering awe and belief, showed the very 
 highest religious feeling on the part of the painter—not too 
 common in works of this class, in which so much of truth is 
 often sacrificed to anatom}''. 
 
 We have already spoken of the works of Bonnat, from the 
 Palace of Justice. Similarly, one of the most important works 
 of Cabanel came to the Exposition from the Pantheon—the 
 “St. Louis,” a series of large decorative paintings depicting 
 the most notable scenes in the career of the canonized king. 
 It need not be said that this historic grouping showed much 
 of the best force of the artist; but a better appeal was made to 
 the judgrnent of the ordinary critic by either ot two pictures 
 of the same artist: “ Tamar and Absalom,” wringing the heart 
 with an inexpressible pity, and the “ Death of Francesca di 
 Rimini ’’filling it with an absorbing grief. 
 
 Even a more remarkable yielding up of treasured works to 
 the public demand was shown by the museums of Havre, 
 Nantes, Toulouse, and other places, in sending forward the 
 canvases of M. J. P. Laurens, dealing with periods in history, 
 and with phases of those periods, not often attempted by 
 other artists. In ordinary hands, such subjects as the “ Ex¬ 
 humation of Pope Formosus,” and “ Francis Borgia before the 
 Coffin of Isabella of Portugal,’’ and “ The Interdict,” would 
 be simply horrible if they did not fall into the lower reputa- 
 
FRENCH ART EXHIBIT. 
 
 321 
 
 tion of being simply disgusting; but it is truth to say that M. 
 Laurens seems literally opening a path in the broad field of 
 genius, into which many must follow—and that his “ Death 
 of Marceau ” and “ Execution of the Due d’Enghien ” ap¬ 
 pealed to the most cultivated tastes as well as the most sym¬ 
 pathetic, by an absolute propriety combined with undeniable 
 power. 
 
 Much more of the intrinsically terrible was shown by M. 
 Sylvestre in “ Locusta and Nero Trying a Poison,” in which 
 the obvious force was so subordinated to the moral feeling as 
 to make the picture simply repulsive ; and it was well that 
 this disgust should be neutralized, as it was, by M. Dupain, in 
 his “ Good Samaritan.” No little of the horrible, however, 
 was revived, in the two immense works, the “ Reform of the 
 Madhouse in 1795,” and the “ Sack of Corinth,” in both of 
 which it goes without saying that the faculties of pity were so 
 strained that admiration for the works was partially par¬ 
 alyzed. Benjamin Constant’s “ Entry of Mohammed II. into 
 Constantinople ” again lifted the observer into a purer air, 
 well justifying the prize won by it at the last Salon. 
 
 Perhaps too much time has elapsed before speaking of M. 
 Meissonier, so thoroughly a favorite with Americans. He was 
 somewhat liberally represented, the most important of his pic¬ 
 tures being a “ Portrait of M. Alexandre Dumas,” full of char¬ 
 acter and which (we believe) has already been engraved; 
 “Cuirassiers of 1805,” with his elaborate finish giving the 
 peculiarities of costume as would else have been impossible; 
 “ Moreau and Dessoles before Ilohenlinden,” in which the for¬ 
 mer was absolutely apotheosized; “A Sergeant,” “ Petite 
 Poste,” and “ Vidette,” in all of which observation of real life 
 on the battlefield seems to have been indispensable; and 
 “ Dictating His Memoirs,” in which the sadness of great fame, 
 combined with inordinate personal vanity, has an exemplifica¬ 
 tion not easily to be forgotten. 
 
 M. Bougereau displayed a somewhat singular blending of his 
 powers, in the “ Virgin, Child Jesus and St. John,” full of his 
 elaboration, but reverent enough in management to have 
 
322 
 
 PARIS IX 78. 
 
 originated three hundred years ago ; the “Virgin Consolatress,” 
 perhaps one of the sweetest Madonna faces of the past two 
 centuries, alive with love and pity ; the “ Youth of Love,” riant 
 with the modern and almost the sensuous; “ Charity,” again 
 on the higher and holier plane of his dual genius; “Piety,” 
 displaying many of the same characteristics; the “ Meeting of 
 Nymphs” and “ Flora and Zephyr” back again to the earth 
 very materially, &c. Gerome dealt principally with Oriental 
 subjects, Turkish baths, Turkish irregular soldiery, &c., scarce¬ 
 ly any of his pieces at what we fancy his best, though one, 
 with a trooper watering his horse at a fountain, deer hounds 
 accompanying; and another, of women bathing, recalled some 
 of his most matured powers; and “His Gray Eminence”— 
 Richelieu’s Joseph descending a stair, reading his breviary and 
 paying no attention to the crowd of obsequious courtiers, has 
 won many admirers if not all the critics. Some of Gerome’s 
 students, by the way, seem to have taken up the brush oc¬ 
 casionally dropped, as Hector Leroux, in “A Miracle in the 
 Temple of Vesta ” (thus far his very best work), and a “ Toilette 
 of Minerva Polias Gustave Boulanger, in his “ Roman Baths,” 
 “Roman Comedians” and “Roman Promenades;” and Le- 
 compte du Nouy in his “ Homer Begging ” and “ Pharaoh Slay¬ 
 ing the Bearers of Evil Tidings”—all pleasantly characteristic, 
 and the Homer especially forcible. 
 
 M. Gustave Moreau had many pictures ; and it is not too 
 much to say that in some of them he rose higher than at any 
 previous exhibition, especially in allegorical tableaux, evi¬ 
 dencing a rare blending of imagination and technical abili¬ 
 ty—almost if not quite justifying the critical dictum of M. Paul 
 de St. Victor, which called them, what much of the best 
 poetry might with propriety be called, taking words as col¬ 
 ors—“painted dreams.” The most ambitious among them was 
 “ Hercules and the Lernian Hydra,” with enough of force to 
 galvanize half-dead mythology for the nineteenth century,— 
 followed by “Jacob and the Angel,” “Moses Exposed on the 
 Nile,” “ Salome,” “ David," &c., all instinct with a rare scrip¬ 
 tural propriety. M. Vibert had three very creditable pic- 
 
FRENCH ART EXHIBIT. 
 
 323 
 
 tures, rich in color and admirable in drawing, in the “ De¬ 
 parture of the Spanish Bride and Bridegroom,” the “ Sere¬ 
 nade,” and the “Toilette of the Madonna’’—all more or less 
 suggestive of the manner of Meissonier; and similarly com¬ 
 plimentary mention may be made of the “Coup de Canon” 
 of M. Berne Bellecour, and the “ Flower Girl ” of M. Firmin- 
 Girard. 
 
 A word must dismiss the matchless “Wedding Feast” of 
 Isabey, once more met here, equally as a surprise and a relief. 
 And little more space can be devoted to several pieces by 
 Jules le Breton, one of which, “ The Gleaner,” was one of the 
 sweetest of his Breton studies ; while another showed a male 
 peasant of that province, carrying a taper, with the blended 
 lights admirably managed ; and a third, with three peasant 
 girls, their arms linked over each other’s shoulders, wonder¬ 
 fully conveyed the impression of a field half filled with pop¬ 
 pies, which no one conversant with the harvest scenes ol 
 Brittany, the Pas de Calais, or Picardy, can fail to recognize 
 lovingly. M. Comte-Calix appeared to excellent advantage 
 in his “Adam and Eve ” ; M. Lefebvre, in “ The Dream ;M. 
 Signol, in the “Soldier of Marathon,” and scarcely less in his 
 excellent characterizations of “Justice” and “Goodness”*; 
 M. Glaize, in “ The Fugitives M. Delaunay (though in both 
 of these the element of terror was too prominent), in the 
 “ Plague at Rome ” and “ Death of Nessus ” ; M. Guillaumet, 
 in “An Arab Market ” (showing the very closest study of 
 people and customs); and M. Hebert, in “ La Pastorella,” the 
 “Popular Italian Muse,” and “A Wood Nymph.” It is pain¬ 
 ful to be obliged to add that political propriety kept away 
 from the Exposition some of the wonderful battle pieces of 
 M. Detaille, which had place in a picture-house in Paris, but 
 missed their great opportunity. 
 
 It is almost needless to say that in the misunderstood and 
 only halt-appreciated department of object-painting (improper¬ 
 ly called “ still-life ”) there were, in this collection, some ad¬ 
 mirable examples. As of right, M. Blaise-Desgoffes, who may 
 be said to stand at the head of this branch of art, had three 
 
 22 
 
324 
 
 PARIS IN ’78. 
 
 examples, of which the most notable was “ A Corner of the 
 Cabinet of Louis XVI.,” with the royal jewels, their boxes, 
 missals, &c., so displayed that one would have thought twice 
 before giving the picture for the originals. Nearly or quite 
 equal, in the same line, were some of the pieces of M. Vollon, 
 displaying goldsmiths’ work, armor, tapestries, damascened 
 weapons, &c.; some of those of Philippe Rousseau, and other 
 young masters of an admirable detail which seems to be per¬ 
 manently reviving. 
 
 No previous universal exhibition has exhibited so many'por¬ 
 traits as those shown, especially and almost exclusively in the 
 French department. A few of the more prominent have been 
 casually mentioned, in connection with other works by the 
 same artists—those of“ Don Carlos,” “M. Thiers,” “ Fleury,” 
 &c., by Bonnat; “Alexandre Dumas,” by Meissonier, &c. Per¬ 
 haps two of the most striking in the whole collection were by 
 a woman, Mile. Jacquemart, of whose portrait of President 
 Thiers, Victor Cherbuliez said that: “ The house is inhabited ; 
 some one is looking out of the window.” Her portraits, in this 
 instance, were those of “Marshal Canrobert,” “M. Duruy” 
 and M. Dufaure”—all singularly strong, virile, and impressed 
 with the very truth of life—and of “ Mdlle. G. B.,” pleasing but 
 inferior to both the others. M. Iluas had a portrait of Doctor 
 Ricord, worthy the fame of the great alleviator of suffering. 
 M. Cabanel exhibited several, the most notable among them 
 those of Madame de Lavalette, the Duchess de Luynes, and 
 the Countess of Mercy-Argenteau—Madame de Luynes sur¬ 
 rounded by her children, and thus softenedfrom the Cabanelian 
 chilliness shown by the others. M. Dubufe had also several, 
 with more than the average celebrity in subjects, including 
 “ M. Gounod” (the composer), “ M. Alexandre Dumas, Jr.,” 
 “M. Philippe Rousseau,” and “ M. Emile Augier;” and M. 
 Carolus Duran blended literature and art very effectively, in 
 “ M. Emile de Girardin ” and “ M. Gustave Dore.” 
 
 «, The French sculptures, one of the most extended collections 
 in the Main Palace, after all contributed to and at the Troca- 
 dero, must be very briefly dismissed. No less than three cf 
 
FRENCH ART EXHIBIT 
 
 325 
 
 the first halls of the Beaux Arts, entered from the Vestibule of 
 Honor, were filled with the works of French statuaries, exe¬ 
 cuted since 1867. Several of those works, of importance, were 
 grouped near the principal entrance : “ Lamartine,” in bronze, 
 by Falguiere; “Brennis,” in marble, by Taluet; “The Invoca¬ 
 tion to Minerva,” in gray marble, by Millet; “The Pythoness,” 
 in veined marble, by Bourgeois ; an “Antique Dancing Faun,” 
 by Blanchard, which held place in the Salon of 1876; and a 
 group of “ Ferocious Animals,” by Cain. Facing the door, 
 with splendid appropriateness to the occasion, stood a statue of 
 “Marshal-President MacMahon,” with busts of “M.Teisserenac 
 de Bort ” and “M. Krantz ” on either side of it. Of several other 
 figures, near, one was that of “Jean d’Arc,” by Chapu, the 
 status of which may or may not have been affected by the fact 
 that during the summer a visitor, questioned of the identity 
 of this statue by his wife, pronounced it the “Woman 
 Taken in Adultery 1 ” 
 
 Busts of Ingres, Frederic Lemaitre, Champfleury and Gen¬ 
 eral Wimpffen followed, most of them in that terra-cotta which 
 seems destined to play so grand a part in the art of the future ; 
 then an embodiment of “The Actor,” by Lormier ; and two 
 effective statues, by Marcilly—a “Piping Bacchante” and a 
 “Young Girl at the Spring,” both redolent of the very spirit 
 of youth and gayety. MM. Cordier, Ponis and Legest followed, 
 in an “Egyptian Harp-Girl,” in enamel, with a face of silver, 
 actually seeming to ray light from the threefold union of in¬ 
 tellects, in modelling, sculpture, and enamelling. The sad 
 “Piety” ofM. Sanson, a very effective work, was somewhat 
 disfigured by one of those tricks of color sometimes indulged 
 in by marble, and which might have furnished Charles Lamb 
 with one more illustration of the “Depravity of Inanimate 
 Matter” (as he might have found another, by the way, in the 
 ink-staining of the fine group in the fror.t of the Equitable Build¬ 
 ing, on Broadway, New York). A much more ambitious sub¬ 
 ject was that of M. Chatrousse, the “Crimes of War,” a group 
 of a dying child, a bound prisoner, and a broken-hearted 
 woman, touching the very fount of sympathetic pity. 
 
326 
 
 PARIS IN 78. 
 
 In the third hall (necessarily passing many minor objects) 
 was to be found the true “Woman Taken in Adultery,” for 
 whom poor “Jean d’Arc” was lately mistaken. It was by M. 
 Cambos, and had a melancholy truth of conception worthy of 
 an earnest worker. This was followed by “ Young Curiosity ” 
 tearing away a mask, from the gardens of the Luxembourg, and 
 bearing the name of M. Blanchard, with the date of 187 r. A 
 fine bust of George Sand, by Millet, necessarily excited general 
 interest, alike from the subject and the excellence of the re¬ 
 production ; and the last work of Perraud was near it, with the 
 sad title, so doubly appropriate, “The Adieux.” The sadness 
 of the last works named was redoubled here by the “Head of 
 Andre Chenier,” the poet and victim of the Revolution, by 
 Noel, and standing on the awfully appropriate “ block ”—one 
 of the purest, saddest, sweetest faces jn memory. 
 
 Schoenewerk’s “Shipwrecked Female” follows, sadly sug¬ 
 gestive ; and Delaplanche’s “ Eve,” of which the only fault 
 seems to be its almost unearthly beauty of face, with too little 
 of the sorrow of the Fall. “ Unquiet Happiness,” by Madame 
 Leon Bertaux, next caught the eye, with more than a sugges¬ 
 tion of Ondine ; and “ The Love-Bearer,” by M.Gandoz, in close 
 connection with it. This hurried glance at only a moiety of 
 the French sculptures must close with the “Romeo and 
 Juliet,” of whom the sculptor has been forgotten; and the 
 “Narcissus ” of M. Iliolle, and the “ Bacchante ” of M. Marcel- 
 lin—the latter taking her triumphant but slightly perilous ride 
 on a panther. 
 
IXIXlZKI'YriII. 
 
 ART OF THE NATIONS, GENERALLY. 
 
 It has already been said that by far the largest exhibitor, 
 after France, was Great Britain ; and that statement holds 
 good quite as well in the art-world as elsewhere. The Eng¬ 
 lish collection is accordingly entitled to head the list, in a 
 hurried examination of the art-works of all the European 
 nations, collectively. 
 
 And, “ first among the first.” To this place is undoubtedly 
 entitled Frederick Leighton, whose “Elias in the Desert” 
 was one of the most purely religious pictures of the century, 
 full of grace and strength, with the solidity of the human flesh 
 of the prophet, and the aeriality of the angel bringing him food > 
 as strongly marked in contrast as could have been done in two 
 differing compositions. This picture would undoubtedly have 
 taken the grand prize but for the retiracy of the new President 
 of the Royal Academy from competition, owing to certain 
 scruples, doing more credit to his independence than hisjudg- 
 ment. (With this retiracy, the grand prize went to Herkomer 
 for his “Last Parade,” a gathering of veterans at Chelsea Hospi¬ 
 tal, with one sitting erect while dying, and the ranks of the old 
 soldiers in their pews admirably painted in varying reds. In 
 fact, in one of the critiques it was called a “ symphony in red.”) 
 Mr. Leighton had also the “ Music Lesson,” painted as deli¬ 
 cately and airily as his portrait of “Captain Burton” (the 
 explorer) was broad, firm and massive. 
 
 Alma-Tadema, a Hollander by birth, but English by adoption 
 and exhibition, had no less than ten pictures, most or all of 
 them on Roman subjects, and two, very large, painted 
 especially for the Exposition—the “ Picture Gallery” and the 
 “ Sculpture Gallery,” the latter notably in warm tones, and the 
 former in gray and cold ones. In both these pictures, as in¬ 
 deed in all the others, the marvellous finish of this artist was 
 
328 
 
 PAMIS IJST 78 . 
 
 discernible ; while it was worthy of notice that in all of them, 
 also, he showed as little flesh as possible (though that very 
 finely painted), and depended most on the elaboration of robes 
 and accessories. John Pettie had also seven pictures, of which 
 the one attracting most attention was a boldly-painted 
 “Conditions of Surrender,’’ with a reckless knight conveying 
 those conditions to the Council, who listen incredulously, but 
 with a variety of expressions in their faces. His second best 
 was “ High Treason,” a more strictly historic painting; and 
 both of his portraits, especially that of “ Bishop Ullathorne,” 
 were clear, forcible, and human. William Orchardson showed 
 some good pictures, notably the “Queen of Swords” (the 
 allusion may be easily understood) and “The Antechamber,” 
 both displaying care in costume and clear development of 
 individual character. 
 
 Sir John Gilbert’s “ Cardinal Wolsey at Leicester Abbey” 
 was, perhaps, after the “Elias,” or competing with it, the 
 noblest picture in the English section, showing the hunted 
 and broken Cardinal escaping, like a hare from the hounds, 
 to a place to die. And much of the same feeling, noble if a 
 trifle theatrical, was shown in his “ Richard II. and Boling- 
 broke.” It almost goes without saying that Frith’s “ Derby 
 Day” and “Railway Station” filled their accustomed place, 
 and elicited conflicting opinions that they were not true paint¬ 
 ings (as they were not), and that they were wonderful photo¬ 
 graphs without the lens (as they were, and as most of Hogarth’s 
 pictures were). But this artist gave us, also, the “Hall of 
 Play at Hombourg,’’ a striking reminiscence of splendid vice 
 not long departed ; and “ Charles II. at Whitehall,” in which 
 more absolute power was displayed than in any previous pro¬ 
 duction of Mr. Frith. Mr. Luke Fildes, so well remembered by 
 many for his collaboration with Dickens, showed his painfully- 
 grand picture of the “London Poor Waiting the Opening of 
 the Night Asylum ” (better known as the “Casual Ward "), in 
 which perhaps as much of sorrow and misery could be learned 
 as from any other canvas of the same size on the globe ; and 
 something like the opposite pole (England's misery ; England’s 
 
ART OF THE NA TIONS. 
 
 32S 
 
 glory) was found in Sir Francis Grant's rich and elaborate 
 battle piece, forcible in color and correct in drawing, the 
 “ Duke of Cambridge at the Battle of the Alma.” 
 
 A strong rival to the best of English historical painters made 
 himself evident to many who had not before known much of 
 him, in Poynter, whose “Catapult” (at the siege of Carthage) 
 showed the hand of a master, both in correct drawing and rich, 
 transparent color; while his “Israel in Eg} r pt ” would have 
 been even better but for the fact that the laboriously-painted 
 architecture overshadowed the figures of the toilers, however 
 equally well conceived and elaborated. Briton Riviere had a 
 “Daniel in the Lion’s Den,” of which the drawing was abso¬ 
 lutely powerful, and the whole fearful theme brilliantly ren¬ 
 dered. Calderon’s “Last Touch,” a fancy of the reign of 
 Pompadour, displayed close study and marvellous skill in 
 technique. Leslie’s “ Visit to the Pensioners,” showing a great 
 lady coming to see her proteges, and surrounded by them, was 
 in the highest degree pleasing, natural (especially in the faces 
 eagerly regarding her satchel), and the very reverse of theatri¬ 
 cal. England would necessarily have been deprived of some- 
 hing of the glory properly belonging to her, without Sir Edwin 
 Landseer’s “ Swans Attacked by Eagles,” containing some of 
 his very best study of motion in animal nature; and his 
 “ Connoiseurs ” (belonging to the Prince of Wales), in which 
 the great painter was shown, crayon in hand, in the midst of a 
 veritable Noah’s Ark of all the creatures of the earth, working, 
 with two grand dogs playing the part of critics, and apparently 
 approving the progress made. The best work of Millais, on 
 exhibition, was his “Northwest Passage,” in which an old 
 pilot, with a grand head, amid accessories not too carefully 
 painted, was pointing out the route of the lost navigator. The 
 next best of his pictures were the “ Royal Guard” and “Chill 
 October.” Watts had several portraits, among them “ Lord 
 Lawrence,” “Calderon,” “Duke of Cleveland,” and “Robert 
 Browning”—all forcible as portraits, but all with a sensation 
 of unpleasing and unstable color. 
 
330 
 
 PARIS IN 78. 
 
 Orchardson had a picture of much force, “ Borrowinga Mort¬ 
 gage,’' but with the fault of the borrower’s face seeming keener 
 than that of the lending miser. Morgan exhibited “ The Hay¬ 
 makers, ’* with the subdued light of approaching twi light, 
 but the trees noble and the composition a pleasing one. It 
 can only be said, in addition, that Crofts had an “ Eve of 
 Waterloo,” displaying not a little of the force of Horace Ver- 
 net ; and that Burne-Jones, Albert Moore, Boughton, Sandys, 
 Davis, Marks and others had more or less creditable pictures, 
 some of them no doubt deserving quite as much hasty honor 
 as has been paid to those preceding. 
 
 The collection of English sculpture was somewhat extensive, 
 though in excellence not comparable with the French. The 
 first among the works in positive merit was unquestionably 
 that of the painter. Leighton, already spoken of—a group in 
 bronze of “ Hercules and the Python,” showing his really 
 wonderful knowledge of anatomy. “Marie Antoinette,” in 
 silver bronze, by Gower, had possibly too much of hauteur 
 evident in her fire, but showed much of the woman as we 
 understand her. There were, also, a fine bronze of “ Thomas 
 Carlyle’; a bust of the “Princess of Wales,” by D’Epinay; 
 one of “ Her Majesty Queen Victoria,” by Brodie ; one of “ Sir 
 Francis Grant,” by Miss Grant; one of “ Lady Campbell,” by 
 Acton ; and several others, minor for this occasion, and which 
 must be passed without mention. 
 
 In recognition of the German pictures in the Exposition 
 being actually contributed through the personal means of good 
 old Emperor William, whose foresight of the future seems to 
 excel that of all the so-called statesmen surrounding him, it is 
 only proper that this department should have brief notice, in 
 advance of all other countries succeeding. Perhaps the most 
 notable specimens in the German collection were the eight 
 pictures of Louis Knaus, bearing dates from 1869 to 1873, with 
 two entirely new, even if not prepared for this occasion. Among 
 the best of them, and very full of character, was the “Old 
 Clothesdealer,” who, with pipe in mouth, gossiped with a 
 little gamin, both the faces veritably speaking, as well as the 
 
ART OF TIIE NATIONS- 
 
 331 
 
 mouths intended for that office. “A Good Bargain,” with the 
 little rabbit-skin merchant full of gayety over his successes, was 
 also excellent; and even more may be said of the “ Children’s 
 Fete,” full of charming insouciance and bonhommie. Many of 
 Knaus’ pictures have been engraved for America, and his 
 charm will therefore be fully understood by non-visitors. 
 “The Furnace,” by Menzel, held something of the same posi¬ 
 tion, this year, held in the Exposition of 1867 by Weir’s “Gun 
 Foundry,” it having a massiveness of detail, with a skill in the 
 management of lights, entitling it to be remembered beside 
 that admirable picture. Holding a place entirely of its own, 
 was the “ Baptism After the Death of the Father,” by Hoff, 
 who may be called the head of the German realistic school, 
 and a comparison of whose work with that of some of the Eng¬ 
 lish realists will be an instructive lesson of the modes of two 
 nations. It was a strong and impressive picture, with grief 
 seeming to be made an absolute reality and emotion inevitable. 
 There were pictures by both Andreas and Oswald Achenbach 
 —pleasing as always, but without sufficient departure from the 
 well-known powers of those acknowledged masters to demand 
 any special mention. Joseph Brandt displayed, in the “Cos¬ 
 sacks of the Ukraine,” admirable drawing and fine manage¬ 
 ment of color. Gabriel Max, in “ Jairus’ Daughter,” exhibited 
 a most remarkable picture—in a cavern, sombre to a degree, 
 and yet impressed with the wierd and wonderful power of the 
 painter of the “Last Token.” Piloty, in “Wallenstein Sur¬ 
 rendering to Eger,” showed some of his careful elaboration, 
 on a subject too broad for that treatment. 
 
 There were, also, a portrait of a “ Young Woman,” by Kaul- 
 bach ; a portrait of “ Baron Liphart,” by Lenbach ; “ Caffres,” 
 by Meyerheim ; the “ Pursuit of Fortune,” by Henneberg ; and 
 “Autumn Evening on the Isar,” by Lier. The most important 
 of the German sculptures, all in marble, were the “Rape of 
 the Sabines ” and “ Mercury and Psyche,” both by R. Begas ; 
 a “ Satyr and Bacchus,” by C. Begas ; a “ Satyr and Cupid,” by 
 Harter; and “Adam,” by Hildebrand. It may be said, in fine, 
 of the German collection, that the Emperor, in sending it for- 
 
332 
 
 PARIS IN 78. 
 
 ward, “deserved well” (to use a phrase of the Directory) of 
 both the countries contributing and receiving. 
 
 Perhaps the most notable picture in the Belgian collection, 
 though by no means the most pleasing one, was “The Pope 
 and the Emperor of Germany at Canossa, in 1077,” by Cluy- 
 senaar, a very large composition, effective, though cold, and 
 well characterizing the humbled imperious Henry IV, and the 
 yet more imperious Hildebrand, the reverse of humble, as Pope 
 Gregory VII. A picture of some force and much interest was 
 Wauters’ “ Mary of Burgundy Taking the Oath to the Com¬ 
 mons at Brussels, 1477.” Perhaps its charm was not a little 
 added to by the romance attached to the woman who made a 
 love-match with the disguised Emperor Sigismund, and was 
 killed in the early days of her married life and love. Wauters 
 had another charming picture, “ Portrait of a Child,” eliciting 
 much admiration. J. Stevens had a highly enjoyable picture, 
 “ Dog and Cat,’’ a dog at the mirror, and the whole riant with 
 animal life well observed. A. Stevens and Willems repeated, 
 in paintings of costumes, some of their triumphs of 1867. Clays 
 showed some marine paintings, in his best laborious style, of 
 the “ Basin ” and “Roads,” at “Antwerp,” “The Thames, at 
 London,” &c. A, De Vrient would have made a capital picture 
 of “ Charles V. at Yuste,” but for an attempt to make the face 
 of that unamiable monarch, amiable, which shocked the sense 
 of history. Weber had a noble “ Entrance of the Port of Fe¬ 
 camp, Normandy.” Verlat (we have lost the title) displayed 
 some excellent contrasts in grouping and color, in a picture of 
 tourists and their carriers at Jerusalem, the atmospheric effects 
 notably fine. Verhas’ “ Inundation ” was very carefully painted. 
 Van Den Bosch’s “ Cats’Amusement ” was spirited and well 
 drawn. Of a very vigorous Biblical scene, “ Give us Barabbas !’’ 
 we have this time lost the name of the painter. Was it Verlat? 
 Probably. There were many other good pictures in the 
 Belgian collection,with the names of Stallaert, Bossuet, Bource, 
 Tscharner, Van Luppen and others. 
 
 The first honors of the fine collection of Austria-Hungary 
 were held by Hans Makart’s very large picture, the “ Entref 
 
ART OF THE NATIONS. 
 
 333 
 
 Of Charles V. into Antwerp.” This picture was called by many 
 the very best in the whole exhibition, in richness of color, 
 careful drawing, and the utmost attention to costuming, while 
 opportunity for elaborate painting was not lost on the damas¬ 
 cened armor of the young emperor, and on the virtually nude 
 girls who formed part of the escort in the bewilderingly elabo¬ 
 rate triumphal procession. Equally pronounced in color, and 
 scarcely inferior in drawing, was Matejko’s “ Union of Poland 
 and Lithuania,” with the Grand Duke Jagellon taking the oath 
 and the great Polish nobles receiving it. Munkacsy's “ Blind 
 Milton Dictating the Paradise Lost ” was in all regards a noble 
 picture, though by no means comparable, in the elements of 
 popularity, with his “Last Day of the Condemned,” of which 
 the face of the doomed man, in set despair, with his weeping 
 wife at the wall, his wondering children and sympathizing 
 peasant friends, will haunt many a spectator for a long period. 
 Muller’s “ St. Marc,Venice,” had some fine atmospheric effects ; 
 Gabriel Max exhibited the least pleasing of the two “ Last 
 Tokens,” with which his name is indissolubly connected ; 
 L'Allemand showed a noble equestrian portrait of “ Marshal 
 Laudon,” of 1759; D’Angeli had nearly a dozen exquisite por¬ 
 traits, and Canon, of Vienna, a fine portrait of “Comtesse 
 Schonborn,” and another equally pleasing. “A Holland 
 Landscape” was the best work of that class, by Jettel ; and 
 there was other good work by Schindler, Blan, Ditscheiner, 
 Ribarz, Russ, &c. 
 
 Spain had a wealth of Fortunys, most of them badly hung, 
 but nearly all in his best style—among them the most notable, 
 his “ Repetition of the Comedy,” “ Posada,” *“ Snake 
 Charmers,” “Arab Fountain,” “ German Soldier,” &c. Zama- 
 cois had three very pleasing pictures, in the “Madman,” the 
 “Monk,” and the “Chess Players. Pradilla’s “Jeanne the 
 Crazy,” and Ferrant’s “ Early Christian Burial,” were both 
 solidly painted and forcible. Plasencia’s “ Death of Lucreze ” 
 was perhaps the strongest picture in the Spanish collection ; 
 Sala’s “ Guillen de Vmatea ” was a bold historical sketch ; and 
 
334 
 
 PARIS IN 78. 
 
 it may be said that some of Madrazzo’s portraits were among 
 the most graceful in the whole exhibition. 
 
 In the collection of Holland, perhaps the most impressive 
 picture, as well as one of the most freely painted, was the 
 “ Village Poor ” of Israels, who seems to blend a little Wilkie 
 of the past and Fildes of the present; his “ Workmen’s Soup,” 
 his “Alone in the World,” and his “ Interment ”—all these were 
 elaborated as well as well studied. Bisschop had an excellent 
 “Portrait of a Lady,” in what might be called “undress cos¬ 
 tume ” (juponais ) ; Haanen some excellent studies made on 
 the Adriatic, among them a “ Venetian Workmen’s Interior” 
 and the “Pearl Threaders of Muiano”; Mesdag, some noble 
 marine pieces, among them the “Wreckers’ Boat at Schevin- 
 ingen ” and “ Lifting the Anchor Gabriel, a breezy “ Morning 
 in the Polders of Holland ” and “ Time of Gales ” ; Sadee, 
 the “Return from Market”; Miss Henriette Ronner, “The 
 Cat,” &c. 
 
 The collections of Portugal and Greece occupied the same 
 saloon. In the Portuguese division, really but one work 
 especially enchained the attention: the “Washerwomen of 
 Lupi,” a bit of excellent study and quiet color. In the Greek, 
 the most important work, with very fine management of lights, 
 was the “Burning of an Ottoman Frigate,” by Altamura; 
 Lytras had two pleasant pictures in “ The Kiss ” and the “ New 
 Year Veil”; and Rallis three of characters as different as 
 possible—“A Soubrette under Louis XIV.,” “ Slave Playing 
 the Guitar,” and “After the Burial.” 
 
 The Swiss department was not very extensive, and, while 
 creditable, it showed little mark of there being any national 
 school. The most important historical work was the “ Day of 
 Sempach,” by Conrad Grob, full of spirit but lacking finish; 
 and the “Birth of Venus,” of M. Zuber-Buhler, had great 
 delicacy without marked force. Among the best of the other 
 pictures was the “Storm in the High Alps,” by Roller, full of 
 the feeling of uneasy nature; the “ Zephyrs of Evening,” by 
 M. Robert, was pleasing and poetic ; some excellent coloring 
 and close observation of nature was shown in “A Village 
 
ART OF THE NATIONS. 
 
 335 
 
 Wedding ” (High Savoy) by Costres ; Carl Bodmer’s “ Fleshing 
 the Hounds” had his habitual strength and directness; Bur- 
 nand’s “ Village Bakery ” had much strength as a composition ; 
 and there were other fair pictures, if no strikingly good ones, 
 in the “Roman Campagna,” by Emile David; “Gendarmes 
 Making an Arrest,” by Durand ; “A Blue Glacier,” by Luppe, 
 &c. 
 
 Denmark showed several pictures by Carl Block, the most 
 important of them being “ Christian II., Captive,” and several 
 pleasant interiors following: “Fishermen near Skagen,” by 
 Neumann, with excellent costuming and massive color; a 
 “ Swiss Guard,” by Lund, important enough in characterization 
 for a general; some good small pictures by Wicksi, Daagard, 
 Rolle, Kyhn, &c. 
 
 The Swedish and Norwegian exhibit was thrown into close 
 juxtaposition with that of the United States, by occupying 
 part of the same halls. There was a “ Fantasy of Norwegian 
 Mythology,” by Arbo, commanding attention equally by its 
 crudities and its undeniable beauties ; a “ Terrestrial Paradise,” 
 by Borg, showed the Northern conception of “ Adam and Eve ” 
 very pleasingly and very blondely; there were some cold but 
 effective coast and other subjects by Hagborg, Zetterstein, 
 Ross, &c. But all the other works of this collection were 
 necessarily thrown into the background by one picture of great 
 strength and most severe simplicity, by CEderstrom—the 
 “ Dead Charles XII. borne by his soldiers before Frederics- 
 hall.” The bronzed and broken veterans, tramping in the 
 snow around a rocky pass, with the dead hero-king on their 
 shoulders, and their faces an awful woe of hopelessness,—this 
 made up really one of the grandest historical pictures in the 
 whole Exposition, and one of the most enduringly memorable. 
 
 Russia did not make any display approaching to that of 
 1867. One of the largest of her pictures was the “ Living 
 Torches of Nero,” by Siemiradski, and with a certain weird 
 power; Makouski had a “Procession at Cairo” and a 
 “Bulgarian Martyr,” with his admitted religious delicacy, 
 Jacobi supplied a very curious “ Wedding in the Glass Palace ;” 
 
336 
 
 PARIS IN 78. 
 
 Jouravlief showed to advantage in the “ Funeral Banquet ’’ (so 
 suggestive of the Northland and of Hamlet’s “ funeral baked 
 meats”) ; there were sortie remarkable, but no doubt faithful, 
 landscapes by Aivazowski ; “ The Fisherman,” by Perof; and 
 some thrilling pictures, the reverse of pleasant, outlining the 
 reign of Ivan the Terrible. 
 
 The Italian department followed close after the English in 
 quantity ; and in some respects it may be said that it approached 
 it in interest. The painter most freely represented was 
 De Nittis, whose “Green Park,’’ “Westminster,” “Cannon 
 Street Bridge” (all of London), and “Return from the Boisde 
 Boulogne Races,” had something of the photographic close¬ 
 ness of observation, and no little of the stiffness of Frith— 
 excellent and effective representations, however. “Italy in 
 1866,” a work executed by Induno for Victor Emmanuel, showed 
 much of the power of that painter, so successful in 1867. Both 
 Didioni and Pagliano exhibited pictures on the same subject— 
 the “Divorce of Napoleon”—the first in “ The Divorce,” and the 
 second in “Reasons of State”—that of Didioni, the smaller, 
 touching the heart the more nearly, and that of Pagliano 
 displaying wonderful perfection in the accessories of that 
 historic scene. Pasini had no less than ten pictures, princi¬ 
 pally Oriental studies, of which the “Market in Turkey,” 
 “ Promenade of the Harem,” “ Falcon Chase,” &c., reminded 
 many observers that there was no Turkish exhibit in the 
 Exposition. Deleani (could that have been a pseudonym for 
 Italo-Irish Delany ?) showed a “ Regatta on the Grand Canal,” 
 of the time, and with something of the coloring, of Paul 
 Veronese. Castiglione had two pretty pictures: “ Haddon 
 Hall Taken by Cromwell’s Soldiers” and “A Visit to Uncle- 
 Cardinal ”; Mancini displayed two pleasing little pieces in the 
 “ Little Tumbler ’’ and “ Bread " ; Fiardi a companion-piece in 
 the “ Little Fisher,” &c. 
 
 It need not be said that the Italian sculptures at least 
 divided interest with the pictures. Perhaps the most pleasing 
 work of the whole was the recumbent “Cleopatra” of Pasini, 
 exquisitely moulded and highly ornamental in all the acces- 
 
ART OF THE NATIONS. 
 
 337 
 
 soffes, but far too delicate for the subject, and much more 
 possibly conveying a Greek nymph than the impurely-passion- 
 ate Egyptian Queen. The “Jenner Vaccinating his Son,” of 
 Monteverde, was a very effective group, with the face of the 
 physician-father and that of the child half-assured and half- 
 frightened, equally effective ; but the subject is rather repulsive 
 than the reverse, and some of the many pictorial representa¬ 
 tions already made might have been spared. The sitting statue 
 of “Cromwell,’’ by Borghi, in bronzed plaster, was a noble 
 rendering of one of the most contradictory of men ; and the 
 “ Pope Pius IX.,’’ also sitting (in marble), by Pagliacetti, was 
 a strong and admirable rendering of one of the really notable 
 faces of the century. Borghi had another effective work, in 
 “ Berenice’s Hair ” ; Barcaglia two, in “ Love Blinds Us ” and 
 “A Bacchante”—both in marble; D'Orsi “The Parasites,” in 
 plaster; Amendola, “ Cain and His Wife,” in plaster, but 
 effective enough to deserve the destined marble ; Monteverde 
 another effective work, an “Angel on the Tomb of Massari”; 
 and (in the saloons and the long passages connected) a 
 “ Bather,” by Tabacchi; an “ Infant with Paroquet,” by Pagani 
 (the infant in marble and the paroquet in silver) ; “ I’m First, 
 Sir!” a characteristic group by Bortone; “ Savanarola,” by 
 Dini; and many others that can only be passed as minor, 
 however creditable. 
 
 It will be noted that in this paper, somewhat hurriedly 
 grouping the art of countries other than France, no mention 
 has been made of those from the United States. Writing 
 especially for readers belonging to America, a separate paper, 
 actually a catalogue, must be devoted to the contributions, 
 principally pictures, from the North American Republic. 
 

 AMERICAN ART, SOLUS. 
 
 The location of the Art Department of the United States has 
 already been given—in a single saloon, in conjunction with 
 that of Sweden and Norway. And the opinion lias already 
 been clearly expressed that, while very creditable as a whole, 
 it by no means reached the standard shown at the Exposition 
 of 1867, when, among many others, the pictures noted in VIII. 
 (p. 66 of this volume) were put before the eyes of the world. 
 
 The United States officials especially connected with this 
 department were as follows : 
 
 D. MAITLAND ARMSTRONG, Superintendent 
 
 CoMMlTTi\F.S OF SELECTION. 
 
 In New York : E. D. Morgan, 
 
 J. W. Pinchot, 
 N. M. Be< Jcwilh, 
 Parke Godwin, 
 Robert G. Dun, 
 
 Jno. Taylor Johnston, 
 R .bert Gordon, 
 
 Henry G. Marquand, 
 Jo'in H. Sherwood, 
 Charles S. Smith. 
 
 In Paris: Augustus St. Gaudens, D. Maitland Armst'Ong, 
 
 C. E. Detmold. 
 
 Following will be found a complete catalogue, alphabetically 
 arranged, of the American contributions : 
 
 Works in Oil. 
 
 Anderson, A.—“Palm Sunday.” 
 
 Bacon, Henrx— “ Land ! Land !” 
 
 Beard, W. H. — “The Wreckers.” 
 
 Beckwith, J. Carroll — “ Portrait” ; “The Falconer.” 
 
 Bellows, A. F. — “A New E 'gland Village School ” 
 
 Bl'iomer, H. R. - “Old Bridge at G ez. ’ 
 
 Benson, Eugene —“Hasheesh Smokers, Jerusalem.” 
 
 Boit, Edward D.—‘ Beach of Villers, Normandy.” 
 
 Boughton, Geo. H. — “Wouter Van Twiller’s First Court in New 
 Amsterdam.” 
 
AMERICAN ART. 
 
 339 
 
 Bbidgman, F. A.—“Funeral of a Mummy on the Nile”; “Allah, 
 Allah, Akbah. ” 
 
 Bristol, J. B.—“Lake Champlain, from Ferrishurg, Vt.” 
 
 Brown, J. G—“St. Patrick’s Day” ; “ Ihe Passing Show.” 
 
 Bunce, W. Gedney— “Approach to "Venice.” 
 
 Butlek, Geo. B., Jr.—“A Cat ” ; “ Dogs on the Campana.” 
 
 Cassatt, MissM.—“H ead.” 
 
 Church, F. E.—“ Morning in the Tropics ” ; “ The Parthenon.” 
 Coleman, Chas. C. — “Decorative Panel”; “Venice, Ancient and 
 Modern.” 
 
 Colman, Sam'l—“ Emigrant Tram Crossing a Ford ” ; “ The Guadal- 
 quiver. ” 
 
 Coman, Mrs. C. B.— “Near Fontainbleau.” 
 
 Dana, W. P. W.—“ The Shore at Dinard ” ; “ Solitude ” ; “A Squall.” 
 Deforest, Lockwood — “ The Pyramid of Sakkareh.” 
 
 De Haas, M. F. H. - “Rapids Above Niagara Falls.” 
 
 Dielman, F.—“Patrician Lady of the 16th Century.” 
 
 Dodson, Miss S. P. B.— “ The Dance.” 
 
 Dubois, Chas. E. — “Morning in Venice” ; “Autumn” ; “View on the 
 Hudson.” 
 
 Eaton, Wyatt—“H arvesters at Best” ; “Beverie.” 
 
 Elliott, C. L. (dec'd)—“Portrait of A. W. Morgan.” 
 
 Flagg, Montague—“ The Finishing Touch.” 
 
 Fowler, Frank —“Young Bacchus.” 
 
 Gat, Walter—“L andscape.” 
 
 Gardner, Miss E. J.—“ Flower Girl ” ; “Buth and Naomi.” 
 
 Gifford, B. Swain—“N ew England Cedars.” 
 
 Gifford, Sandford B.—“Mount Benier ” ; “Saint Georgio, Venice.” 
 Graham, William—“V iew in a California Cemetery.” 
 
 Gut, S. J. — “Baby’s Bedtime” ; “Learning the Gamut” ; “Portrait 
 of C. L Elliott.” 
 
 Hamilton, J. McL —“ Cerise.” 
 
 Hart, James M.—“American Landscape, Indian Summer”; “A 
 Summer Memory of Berkshire.” 
 
 Healy, G. P. A.—“Portrait of Mrs. Noyes” ; “Portrait of Lord 
 Lyons.” 
 
 Henry, E. L. - “ Off for the Baces.” 
 
 Homer, Winslow. — “A Country School-Boom” ; “A Visit from the 
 Old Mistress”; “Snapping the Whip”; “Sunday Morning in 
 Virgini t. ” 
 
340 
 
 PARIS IN 78 , 
 
 Hovenden, T.—“ A Breton Interior.” 
 
 Howland, A. C.—“Ford’s Glen.” 
 
 Huntingdon, Dan’l—“ Philosophy and Christian Art” ; “ Portrait.” 
 Inness, Geo.—“S t. Peter's, Home, from the Tiber”; “View near 
 Medfield, Massachusetts.” 
 
 Irving, J. B. (dec’d)—“ The Connoisseurs.” 
 
 .johnson, Eastman—“T he Corn Husking ” ; “ What the Shell Says.” 
 Jones, W. Bolton—“R eturn of the Cows, Brittany.” 
 
 Kensett, J. F. (dec’d) —“The White Mountains.” 
 
 Lafaege, John—“P aradise Valley, Newport.” 
 
 Lambdin, Geo. C.—“Boses on a Wall.” 
 
 LeClear, T.—“Portrait of Parke Godwin.” 
 
 Lippincott, Wm. H.—“Portrait of Dr. G. D. Cochrane” ; “Portrait of 
 Dr. Nachmann.” 
 
 Loomis, Chester— “A Poacher in the 15th Century.” 
 
 May, E. II.—“Portrait of General Carroll Tevis.” 
 
 Maynard, Geo. W.—“Portrait.” 
 
 McEntee, Jervis—“A n Autumnal Idyl ” ; “ The Falling Leaves.” 
 Miller, C. H.—“Oaks at Creedmoor.” 
 
 Moran, Edward—“ Return of the Life-Boat.” 
 
 Moore, II. H. —“The Moorish Bazaar.” 
 
 Odinheimer, Miss M. B.—“Marie.” 
 
 Porter, B. C.— “Portrait of Miss Howe.” 
 
 Quartley, Arthur—“M orning Effect in New York Harbor.” 
 
 Rein, E.— “Winter Evening in New England.” 
 
 Richards, W. T.—“In the Woods”; “Spring Landscape”; “The 
 Forest.” 
 
 Robbins, H. W.—“Harbor Islands, Lake George.” 
 
 Sai.gent, J. L.—“Portrait of Miss W-.” 
 
 Shade, W. A.—“A Page” ; “La Marguerite” ; “My Daily Visitor.” 
 Shirlaw, Walter.—“S heep-Shearing in the Bavarian Highlands.” 
 Shonborn, Lewis T.—“Portrait.” 
 
 Thompson, A. Wordsworth—“T he School-House on the Hill.” 
 Tiffany, L. C. — “Duane Street, near William Street, New York.” 
 Tompkins, Miss Clementina—“ The Little Artist ” ; “ RosalaFileuse.” 
 Van Schaick, S. W.—“Portrait.” 
 
 Vedder, E.—“Cumean Sybil”; “The Young Marsyas” ; “The Old 
 Madonna.” 
 
 Vinton, F. P. — “ Head of a Neapolitan Boy ” ; “ Head.” 
 
 Volkmar, Chas.—“L andscape, with Cattle.” 
 
AMERICAN ART. 
 
 341 
 
 Ward, Edgar M.—“The Sabot-Maker” ; “Venetian Water-Carriers” ; 
 
 “Washing in Brittany.” 
 
 Ward, Myeon—“H ead.” 
 
 Weir, J. Alden—“A Breton Interior.” 
 
 Weir, John F.—Forging the Shaft.” 
 
 Williams, F. D. — “The Marne.” 
 
 Willmarth, L. E.—“Ingratitude ” 
 
 WHiTTEErGE, W.—“Forest Brook” ; “The Platte River.” 
 
 Wood, T. W.—“The Contraband ” ; “ The Recruit” ; “The Veteran.” 
 Wyant, A. H.—“A New England Landscape.” 
 
 Wylie, Robert (dec’d)—“Death of a Vendean Chief.” 
 
 Yewell, Geo. H.—“Mosque of Kait Bey, Cairo” ; “Carpet Bazaar, 
 Cairo.” 
 
 Water Colors. 
 
 Abbey, E. A.—“The Stage-Office.” 
 
 Bellows, A. F.—“A New England Homestead.” 
 
 Bricher, A. T.—“ In a Tide-Harbor.” 
 
 Colman, S.—“ The Cathedral at Quimper.” 
 
 Farbeb, H. —“ A Quiet Pool.” 
 
 Gifeord, R. Swain—“ Evening in the Sahara”; “On the Lagoon, 
 Venice” ; “Salt Vats at Dartmouth.” 
 
 Nicoll, J. C.—-“Shower on the Coast”; “On the Gulf of St. Law¬ 
 rence.” 
 
 Richirds, W. T.—“ South West Point, Conanicut.” 
 
 Robbins, H. W.—“New England Homestead.” 
 
 Tiffany, L. C.—“A Stranger’s Visit to the Cobblers of Bonfrait” ; 
 
 “Market Day on the Cathedral Steps of St. Melaine.” 
 
 Wust, T.—“Sketches of Virginia Negroes.” 
 
 Wyant, A. H.—“ Reminiscence of the Connecticut River.” 
 
 Drawings. 
 
 By E. A. Abbey, engravings by David Nichols ; by A. B. Copeland, 
 “Outward Bound,” by Wyatt Eaton, “Portrait of H. H. Boyesen ” ; 
 by Gordon Greenough, ‘ ‘ Portrait of Countess de Banuelos ” ; by Mrs. 
 Eliza Greatorex, “House of Talleyrand, New York ” ; by J. E. Kelly, 
 “ Measuring Boys ” ; by T. Moran, engravings by F. S. King. 
 
 Etchings and Engravings. 
 
 By T. Cole, J. P. Davis, and F. S. King, after designs by J. C. 
 Beard, Miss F. Bridges, Sol. Eytinge, Jr, and F. Sandham ; by T. 
 
342 
 
 PARIS IN 78 . 
 
 Cole, after various designs ; by Wyatt Eaton, “Lincoln’ ; by J. A. 
 Mitchell, “Place de l’Opera ” and “End of tlie Act” ; by IIenby 
 Marsh, after designs by John La Farge, Mrs. Mary Hallock Foote, and 
 Miss Helena Le Kay ; by Frederick Holler, after designs by Lancan. 
 
 Statuettes. 
 
 By Montague Handley, “Bough Day on the Boman Campagna”; 
 “Cattle-Driver of the Boman Campagna ” ; and “ Portrait.” 
 
 After what has been already said, it cannot be here expected 
 that any extended criticism will be made on the American 
 pictures—all the less, because the usual conflicts of opinion 
 have not been wanting, with the equally-usual comments on 
 “ hanging,” the “ sight-line,” the “ cobwebs of the ceiling,” &c. 
 
 Briefly, it may be said that among the very best of the genre 
 and figure pictures were the “ Corn-Huskers ’’ of Eastman 
 Johnson, showing close study and fine judgment of color ; the 
 “Funeral of a Mummy,’’ of that rapidly-rising artist, F. A. 
 Bridgman, with the figures strong, the water dull, but the 
 sunlight on the banks thoroughly fine ; the “Sabot-Maker’’ 
 and “ Venetian Water-Carriers,” of J. M. Ward, representing 
 entirely different schools, but both pleasing; the “Forging 
 the Shaft,’’ of John F. Weir, with the management ot 
 hot lights conveying a reminder of his splendid 1867 “Gun 
 Foundry,” though by no means equalling that picture ; the 
 “Young Marsyas” and “ Cumean Sybil” of Vedder, both 
 faulty in management and yet both showing much strength 
 and fine management of color; the “ Passing Show” of J. G. 
 Brown, showing some boys looking at a circus, with much 
 propriety but no roundness of effect; the “Snapping the 
 Whip ’’ of Winslow Homer, thoroughly American and satis¬ 
 factory ; the “Carpet Bazaar, Cairo,” of G. If. Yewell, with fine 
 management of lights and gradations of textures ; the “ Page,’ 
 
 “ Marguerite ” and “ Daily Visitor ” of Shade, all pleasing, and 
 all promising better things in the future; the “Cerise” of 
 J. McL. Hamilton, showing a Parisian cocotte reading, with 
 much oddity but no small force and appropriateness; the 
 “Reverie” and “Harvesters at Resty of Wyatt Eaton, the 
 
AMERICAN ART. 
 
 343 
 
 latter the more pretentious, but the former far the better 
 picture ; the “ Falconer” of Beckwith, &c. 
 
 The most striking landscapes in the collection were the 
 “ Solitude,” a clouded sea-moonlight, with many faults but 
 much force, and certainly going beyond the title in the cold 
 shiver of awful hopeless loneliness which it created; R. S. 
 Gifford’s “Mount Renier,” with Sierra Nevada snow-clad 
 features nobly conveyed, and his “San Georgio, Venice” as 
 pleasing as the other was striking; Whittredge’s small but 
 exquisite “Forest Brook,” with his “Platte River” a less 
 pleasing pendant; James Hart’s “ Summer Memory of Berk¬ 
 shire,’’ with his gray faults but much of his best manner; 
 Arthur Quartley’s vigorous “New York Harbor,” making 
 another of the pleasant promises of the future ; De Haas’ 
 “Niagara Rapids,” well conveying the scene but not the 
 painter ; Wyant’s “ New England Landscape ” ; Bristol’s “ Lake 
 Champlain”; McEntee’s two Autumn pictures; Moran’s 
 “ Return of the Life-Boat ” ; and John Lafarge’s anything else 
 than paradisical “ Paradise Valley.” 
 
 There were, fortunately, very few portraits in the American 
 collection ; nor was there anything in those exhibited, leading 
 to the right or the necessity of close attention. And so this 
 brief notice closes as it began : without a doubt Mr. Armstrong 
 and those associated with him did their best with the materials 
 at command, and yet America, though showing many pleasing 
 pictures, won very little new honor before the world, as, indeed, 
 the world won very little collectively, with its past triumphs 
 remembered, in the Art Exhibition at Paris in 1878. 
 
DIS¬ 
 FEATURES OF DIFFERENT NATIONAL EXHIBITS. 
 
 Following the account of the opening of the Exposition 
 some opinions were expressed as to the status of the show of 
 1878 as compared with several others; and in the same con¬ 
 nection a hurried glance was taken at the general features of 
 some of the exhibits. All that is additionally intended, here, 
 is to indicate the principal lines in which the different countries 
 made their more marked displays ; arid, even in this, those 
 debarred from visiting the Exposition may at least catch a 
 glimpse of what might have been called the glory of confusion, 
 while visitors may find some aid, even in the bare names of 
 departments, in recalling the salient points of their pleasant 
 while fatiguing experience. 
 
 [The exhibits of the United States of America remain for a 
 separate paper.] 
 
 France. 
 
 The Gobelins and Beauvais Tapestries. 
 
 The Sevres Porcelains. 
 
 | Ceramics generally, including Terra Cottas in various and 
 many rare preparations. 
 
 Cristallerie and glassware, in immense profusion, including 
 a Grecian Temple of large size and much elaboration, with a 
 silver statue of Mercury occupying the centre. In this depart¬ 
 ment, the most notable manufactures were those of Baccarat, 
 St. Gobain, Clichy, Sevres, &c. 
 
 The Erard Pianos, some of them with rich and elaborate 
 ornamentation. 
 
 Goldsmiths’ Work (“ Orfeverie ”) of Christofie and other 
 manufacturers. 
 
 Watches and horologerie from Doubs, Besancon, &c.; and 
 Musical Toys of the same and corresponding derivations. 
 
 Furniture in great originality and variety, including a Gift to 
 the Pope, supplied by subscription, of large size and rich 
 
DIFFERENT NATIONAL EXHIBITS. 
 
 345 
 
 elaboration, intended to contain the Bull of the Immaculate 
 Conception translated into sixty languages. 
 
 Bronzes in great diversity and excellence, including the 
 “Neptune” of Durenne ; many holy statues by Denonvillez 
 (founder of the “ Nations,” at the Trocadero Palace), Thiebault, 
 Lemerle-Charpentier, Delaplanche, Lemaire, Falguiere, &c. 
 
 Mechanical Toys, especially the celebrated Singing Birds. 
 
 Tapestries and Painted (wall) Papers. 
 
 Velvets; Silks; Ribbons; Laces ; Embroideries ; Millinery ; 
 Robes and Clothing. 
 
 Heavy Machinery ; Works and Foundries in Brass and Iron. 
 
 Diamonds (commercial), with the Processes of their Cutting 
 and Preparation. 
 
 Printing Machines and Appliances. 
 
 Food and Alimentary Products in all Varieties. 
 
 Ivory Carvings ; Filigree Work ; Glass Engraving; Feathers 
 and Flowers. 
 
 Instruments of Music ; Surgical Instruments ; Collections of 
 the National School of Decorative Art, &c. 
 
 French Colonies {as Appendiary). 
 
 Guiana —Stuffed Birds, a very rare collection ; Gold, and 
 other Mineral Products. Martinique—Coffee ; Rum ; Wines 
 and Liqueurs. Guadeloupe —Sugars ; Spices ; Fruit Confections. 
 St. Pierre and Miquelon —Products of the Fisheries. Senegal— 
 Tiger Skins and Tropical Products. Gaboon —Ivories. Tahiti — 
 Mother-of-Pearl. Reunion —Coffee; Sugar; Vanilla. New 
 Caledonia —Nickel Mining Products; Illustrations of Peniten¬ 
 tiary Service. 
 
 Great Britain. 
 
 The Indian Collection, already named, and embracing, among 
 its chief objects, a Palankeen of Carved Ivory ; a Throne of 
 Silver; an Elephant Howdah, absolutely solid, of gold and 
 silver; Horse Trappings equally costly and elaborate ; Arms of 
 the East, in precious metals and jewels; crowns, coronets, and 
 personal adornments of great number and value. 
 
346 
 
 PARIS IN ’ 78 . 
 
 Glass Work, including a Fauteuil in that material, really one 
 of the wonders of the Exposition, and a copy of the Portland 
 Vase (British Museum), exciting only less attention. 
 
 Ceramics, in infinite variety, including the superb potteries 
 of Doulton, Worcester, Minton and Wedgevvood. 
 
 Goldsmiths’ Work, especially the superb exhibition of El king- 
 ton, rich in reproductions of antique art. 
 
 Watches and Jewelry. 
 
 Furniture ; especially notable in large pieces, the “ Fountain 
 of Helicon,” in white wood, by a Scotchman, Peter Cairns, and 
 excelling most of the Continental work ; and the diversity and 
 richness of the whole array quite matched by its evident solidity 
 of workmanship. 
 
 Sheffield Cutlery. 
 
 Arms, in all modern inventions and improvements. 
 
 Birmingham Manufactures, principally in metals. 
 
 Velvets; Cloths; Silks, and Manchester Cottons. 
 
 Kidderminster and other carpetings. 
 
 Robes ; Clothing ; Boots and Shoes. 
 
 Perfumeries, especially those of Rimmel, with an absolute 
 palace for their display. 
 
 Laces ; Threads in all manufactures ; Yarns. 
 
 Metallurgic Products. 
 
 Chemical Goods and Products. 
 
 Manufacturing Machinery. 
 
 Alpine Club Map of Switzerland, engraved by Stanford. 
 
 Steam Engines; Printing Machines; Agricultural and 
 Industrial Machinery, &c. 
 
 Canada {as Appendiary). 
 
 Marbles; Metallic and Mining Products; Furs and Skins; 
 Marmalades and other Fruit Preparations; Snow Shoes and 
 Weapons of the Chase ; Swinging Chairs ; Fishery Implements ; 
 Agricultural Products. 
 
 Cape of Good Hope {as Appefidiary). 
 
 Furs; Skins; Ivories; Grains; Woods; Native Wines; 
 Indigenous Flowers ; Portraits of Inhabitants. 
 
DIFFERENT NATIONAL EXHIBITS. 
 
 347 
 
 Australia {as Appendiary). 
 
 Furs in immense variety; Kangaroos and other Preserved 
 Animals (the kangaroo forming part of the Australian Arms) ; 
 W ines; Mining Products (gold, silver, &c.); Medical and 
 Agricultural Products ; Orfeverie, Jewelry, and Filigree Work ; 
 Preserved Fruits in great variety ; Ostrich Eggs, natural and 
 elaborated. 
 
 New South Wales and Queensland {as Appendiary). 
 
 Picture of Sydney; Tobacco; Skins; Wines; Pictures of 
 Indigenous Cattle ; elaborate Tables of Cattle Products of the 
 sections (somewhat doubted by the French, it is worthy of 
 notice). 
 
 Belgium 
 
 Laces, of Brussels, Malines, &c., in unequalled display and 
 richness. 
 
 Belgian Glass Products, Mirrors, &c., especially large, per¬ 
 fect and notable. 
 
 Ceramics; Faiences; Wrought Marbles. 
 
 Carved Woods (“ Bois de Spa”), rivalling the Swiss ; Furni¬ 
 ture. 
 
 Locomotives; Railway Carriages; Wagons, in immense 
 variety ; Railway Appliances and Inventions ; Industrial and 
 other heavy Machinery. 
 
 Austria. 
 
 Bohemian Glasses, in every detail of that rare manufacture. 
 
 Musical Instruments. 
 
 Jewelry. 
 
 Silk Curtains and Embroideries. 
 
 Hand-made Laces of Bohemian Mountains. 
 
 Vienna Pipes and Meerschaum Goods, in corresponding 
 variety. 
 
 Clocks, principally of carved woods, in diversity and beauty 
 equal to either of the before-named. 
 
 Bronzes; Furniture; Boots and Shoes ; Cloths; Carriages; 
 Waxen Column ; Machines, <Sic. 
 
348 
 
 PARIS IS 78 . 
 
 Hungary {as appertaining). 
 
 Gigantic Tun, emblematically carved, and rivalling that of 
 Heidelberg. 
 
 The Musicians Tziganes, with their characteristic building. 
 
 Photography; Potteries; Mining Products ; Wines ; Carved 
 Goods, &c. 
 
 Russia. 
 
 Plaster Models, ingeniously proving, by machinery, the 
 passage of air through solid substances. 
 
 Arrangement of Studies and Records in Natural History, 
 considered one of the most complete in the world. 
 
 Malachite of Siberia, in Vases, Tables, and many other ob¬ 
 jects of art. 
 
 Golden Mosaics of Moscow. 
 
 Jewelry and Goldsmiths’ Work, much of it very ingenious, 
 and some reproducing the Byzantine. 
 
 Ceramics, in good variety and originality. 
 
 Furs, especially varied, rich and rare. 
 
 Cloths and Stuff Manufactures. 
 
 Tallow and heavy Chemical Products. 
 
 Remarkable Clock, with oscillating sunflower face and some 
 amusing machinery. 
 
 Drosschkis and other Carriages. 
 
 Heavy Industrial and other Machinery. 
 
 Switzerland 
 
 Velvets and Silks of Zurich. 
 
 Embroideries of great richness and taste—many of them 
 from St. Gall. 
 
 Watches and Musical Boxes from Geneva, Chaux-de- 
 Fonds, &c. 
 
 Bijouterie in wide range of manufactures. 
 
 Carved Woods of all varieties of excellence, and from many 
 Cantons. 
 
 Cheeses and Milk Products. 
 
 Charts of the St. Gothard Tunnel; Machine illustrating the 
 ascent of the Rhigi, &c. 
 
DIFFERENT NATIONAL EXHIBITS. 
 
 
 Holland. 
 
 Liquors; Tobacco; Pipes. 
 
 Viands of “ Peptone,” for artificial digestion. 
 
 Chocolate in a majestic monument; Stearine in large quan¬ 
 tity. 
 
 Carpets ; Glassvvork ; Cottonades and other stuffs. 
 
 Bricks ; Cordages ; Oils. 
 
 Plans and Charts of the Public Works of Holland—drying 
 of the Haarlem Lake, clearing of the Meuse, &c. 
 
 Monument of the Dutch East Indies, in form of an immense 
 Indian wigwam of native woods, and with the products of the 
 various colonies surrounding. 
 
 Charts of Public Instruction, Geography, &c. 
 
 Machinery, heavy and practical. 
 
 Sweden and Norway. 
 
 Ceramics—the most important those of Rorstrand ; Glass¬ 
 ware; Jewelry and Filigree Work, much of it of a striking 
 originality and peculiar Northern taste. 
 
 Furs, many of them displayed in a trophy in form of a pyra¬ 
 mid, and the collection very complete and valuable. 
 
 Mining Products of unequalled richness and value. 
 
 Wood Tapestry (“ Pate de Bois ”) of singular originality. 
 
 Embroideries ; Bijouterie ; Wood Carvings ; Toys, principally 
 from the peasantry. 
 
 Costumes of the North; Stuffs; Articles of Domestic Use 
 and Industry; Perfumeries; Matches in endless profusion; 
 Appliances for Lighting and Warming in cold regions. 
 
 Denmark and Greece. 
 
 [Denmark and Greece being almost absolutely conjoined in 
 the Exhibition, many visitors were puzzled to distinguish at 
 first glance between the productions of the two.] 
 
 Of Denmark —Furs; Painted Hemicycle of Costumes of the 
 country ; Potteries of much merit and fine taste ; Tapestries ; 
 Carpets; Cordage; Instruments of Fishing and the Chase; 
 
350 
 
 PARIS IN ’ 78 . 
 
 Alimentary Products; Beer (some of it after a two years’ 
 expedition around the world); Jewelry and Silversmiths 
 Work; Watches. 
 
 Of Greece —Marbles in great and beautiful diversity; Woods 
 of the country, well arranged ; Mineral Exhibits of the French 
 Company of the Mines of Laurium ; Santorin and other wines; 
 Raisins; Oils; Photographs of Recent Antique Discoveries; 
 admirable Stairway leading to the rooms of the Commission, &c. 
 
 Spain. 
 
 Ceramics, including Arabic and other Potteries, of fine taste 
 and great variety; two Magnificent Vases after Benvenuto 
 Cellini; Wood Mosaic containing millions of pieces, and of 
 large value; Mantillas and Fans in endless varieties ; Woollen 
 Manufactures; brilliant Stuffs of Andalusia and Catalonia; 
 Arms and Materials of War; Figures in Costumes of Spanish 
 Army; Toledo Blades and other Cutlery; Leathers in richest 
 manufactures; Skins; Steel Cannon; Mining Products; 
 Industrial and Labor-Saving Machines ; Valuable Engineering 
 Models, &c. 
 
 Bronze Bust of M. Emilio Santez, Spanish Commissioner to 
 the Exposition, surrounded by various industrial emblems. 
 
 Portugal. 
 
 Photographs, very fine, of the Cloisters of Belem (near 
 Lisbon), and of the projected Convent of Batalha, most of them 
 special work of M. Carlos Relvas ; also of the University of 
 Coimbra, Monuments, Costumes, &c.; of the Bulls of the 
 Arena, &c. 
 
 Model of Iron Bridge over the Douro; Furniture in ebony 
 and ivory; Wood Sculptures; Arabic Potteries and other 
 Ceramics, including Faiences by Coldas; Filigree Work; 
 Figures with Costumes of Portugal; Damask and other Silks 
 and Embroideries ; Cigars and Tobacco; Pyrites of Iron and 
 other Mineral Products; Oporto, Madeira, and other Wines; 
 Labor-Saving Machines, &c. 
 
DIFFERENT NATIONAL EXHIBITS. 
 
 351 
 
 Italy. 
 
 Venetian Glass Manutactures, including the celebrated 
 productions of the Society of Murano and ot Salviati—display 
 of great extent and unparalleled richness, including the 
 “Treasure of St. Marc,” an exact copy of the Cup of the same 
 name in the Church of St. Marc at Venice, the equally celebra¬ 
 ted “ Vases Murrhins,’’ many imitations of the Byzantine 
 Antiques, &c.; Mosaics in array equally profuse and invaluable, 
 and of the three varieties, Venetian, Florentine, and Roman. 
 
 Reproductions of Pictures by the Great Masters, also in 
 Mosaics; Pictures in Wood Mosaics; Ceramics rivalling the 
 antique productions of the same country, including the Majoli¬ 
 cas and Faiences of Gubio, Urbino, Faenza, &c. ; Straw Manu¬ 
 factures, in variety and beauty equalling either of the others 
 named; Musical Instruments; Silks; Jewelry (the Florentine 
 notable); Sculptured Furniture; Preserved Fruits; Wines; 
 Instruments of Precision ; Machinery. 
 
 Japan. 
 
 Porcelains and Lacquered Goods in great variety and rich¬ 
 ness ; Silk Embroideries ; Sculptured Woods ; Furniture; 
 Carved Ivories ; Bronze Articles ; Domestic and Characteristic 
 Goods; Teas. 
 
 China. 
 
 Porcelains and Lacquered Goods; Fans; Screens; Bed¬ 
 chamber Furniture, including one Rosewood Bedstead said to 
 be worth $5,000 ; Ironwood Furniture for saloon, also said to be 
 worth $5,000 ; other Furniture in woods, carved ivories, &c.; 
 Silks and Stuffs ; Museum of National Costumes ; Teas. 
 
 Persia. 
 
 Persian Carpets ; Furniture, embroidered with the needle; 
 Damascened Steel Goods and other fine Works in Metals; 
 Wines of Shiraz; Damascened Arms ; Toilet and other Boxes 
 in Sculptured Woods; Toilet Articles ; Stuffs; Perfumes. 
 
352 
 
 PARIS IN 78 . 
 
 Tunis. 
 
 Carpets in especially bright colors ; Stuffs embroidered in 
 gold ; Damascened Weapons ; Tables and other Furniture of 
 HardWoods; Potteries; Hookahs and other Pipes ; Tobaccos. 
 
 Siam. 
 
 Stuffs ; Musical Instruments; Bed in Red Lacquer, consid¬ 
 ered especially elegant and tempting ; Domestic and Toilet 
 Articles. 
 
 Luxembourg. 
 
 Perfumery; Liquors; Beer; Pottery, very original in form 
 and color; Metal Goods; Educational Exhibit, &c. 
 
 Andorre. 
 
 Figures in Costume of the Country; Wines; Tobaccos; 
 Sausages. (On dit, that both the tobacco and the sausages 
 were poisoned, and so labelled, to prevent stealing, to which 
 some had been previously subject.) 
 
 Argentine Republic. 
 
 Stuffed Birds; Skins ; Preserved Meats; Curious Stairway 
 in Cedar Wood ; Costumes. 
 
 Peru. 
 
 Imitations of Ancient Monuments and Palaces; Figures in 
 Costume of Lima; Plan of the great Inca Road leading to 
 Chili; Pictures of Places and People; Carpets; Jewelry and 
 Filigree Work ; Guano ! 
 
 Hayti. 
 
 Coffees; Spices; Native Woods; Fruits; Hammocks and 
 other Tropical Furniture and Appliances. 
 
 Uruguay. 
 
 Nuts of many varieties ; Wool; Tobacco; Preserved Meats 
 and Fruits; Photographs of Country and People. 
 
 Venezuela. 
 
 Fine Straw Goods; Tobacco and Cigars; Coffee and Cocoa. 
 
 Nicaragua. 
 
 Straw Goods; Hammocks and other Tropical Furniture; 
 Native Woods ; Figures in Costume of the Country. 
 
XLI. 
 
 PROMINENT AMERICAN EXHIBITS AND AWARDS. 
 
 In an earlier paper of this volume, “The Exposition That 
 Was Opened ” (No. VIII., pp. 59 to 69), some idea was given 
 of the general character of the American exhibits, though no 
 attempt was made at enumerating or classing them. In this 
 concluding paper will be found mentioned the American 
 exhibits and awards of most prominence, and that, either 
 from their character or the high premium accorded, seem to 
 have been among the most notable things of the year. 
 
 Before proceeding with the partial record, however, it should 
 be noted that the number of awards given to American Educa¬ 
 tional Books and systems, has been phenomenal, and reflecting 
 the very highest credit upon the American management of 
 that important branch of human welfare. Very wisely, as 
 already said in the paper before referred to, the illustrations 
 of the systems and means of teaching, in nearly all branches, 
 were freely sent to the Exposition ; and the result was found 
 (without reckoning the strictly personal honors hereafter to 
 be noted) in Medals (most of them with Diplomas) to the 
 National Bureau of Education, at Washington ; to the State 
 Exhibits of Ohio, Massachusetts, Illinois, Indiana, Pennsyl¬ 
 vania, New Jersey, Kansas, Rhode Island, Wisconsin, and 
 possibly other States overlooked in the great aggregate; to 
 the U. S. Naval Academy at Annapolis, Harvard University, 
 Columbia College, the Peabody Foundation for Education in 
 the South, the Perkins Blind Institute of Boston, Boston 
 University, Hampton Institute, Georgia Female College, State 
 University of Michigan, State University of Wisconsin, Hamil¬ 
 ton College, Vassar Female College, Wellesley Female College, 
 Industrial University of Illinois, Williston Seminary, Mount 
 Holyoke Seminary, Washington College, Cooper Union, and 
 probably others (again) overlooked; to the Exhibits made by 
 
 24 
 
354 
 
 PARIS IN ’ 78 . 
 
 the Cities of Washington, Philadelphia, Boston, Cincinnati, 
 Albany, Milwaukee, St. Louis, Portsmouth, &c.; and to various 
 other and minor organizations, as well as to the compilers 
 (T. W. Higginson and William Swinton being prominent among 
 them) of educational manuals, and to their publishers in infinite 
 number. 
 
 It is necessarily impossible, in the limited space at our com¬ 
 mand, to notice any considerable proportion of the honors 
 which may be called festival, connected with the Exposition, 
 and reflected upon Americans. We cannot pass, however, 
 without referring to one event of special importance—the 
 banquet offered to ex-President Grant, during his early sojourn 
 in Paris, by the exhibitors of the 7th group, headed by Mr. E. 
 T. Bell, of the house of W. J. Wilcox & Co., New York, who 
 w r as President of the Committee on the occasion, and also 
 Commissioner from the State of New Jersey. The pleasure of 
 this festival was materially added to by the tender, on behalf 
 of Messrs. Wilcox & Co., of the splendid pavilion erected by 
 them for the exposition of their products, and constructed of 
 natural American woods, with enviable taste and beauty. 
 This banquet, graced by the presence of most of the Ameri¬ 
 can and other officials, may be said to have been really one of 
 the features of the brilliant season. 
 
 While dealing with this matter, closely connected with indi¬ 
 vidual celebrity, it is proper to give, additionally, what may 
 be called the personal expositionary honors of the season, as 
 they fell to the lot of Americans, during the Exposition, at its 
 close or somewhat later, after the opening of 1879. As a mat¬ 
 ter of comparison it may be noted that, at the Paris Exposi¬ 
 tion of 1867, twelve Americans received the order of the 
 Legion of Honor, and at the Vienna Exhibition of 1873, ten 
 received the order of Francis Joseph of Austria. At the Paris 
 Exposition of 1878, something more than a score of Ameri¬ 
 cans were decorated, the advance thus shown being well in 
 place with the marked increase of volume of products exhi¬ 
 bited, and the corresponding appreciation of the national repu¬ 
 tation. These decorations may be thus specified : 
 
AMERICAN EXHIBITS AND A WARDS. 
 
 355 
 
 Gov.Richard C. McCormick, Commissioner-General (whose 
 services to the Exposition are fully recognized by this 
 volume in its dedication, and who materially added to his ser¬ 
 vices by an article recounting the American triumphs, in the 
 North American Review, July, 1879), received the decoration 
 of the Legion of Honor, with the rank of Commander. A 
 much more important and significant honor, however, was 
 conferred on the Commissioner-General, in October-Novem- 
 ber, 1878, in the presentation of two bronze statues, “Venus 
 Armed “and “ Egyptian Priestess,” the voluntary contributions 
 of American exhibitors, the final ceremonies connected with 
 which occurred at the Hotel Windsor, Rue de Rivoli, on 
 Thu rsday evening, the 7th November. (Among those promi¬ 
 nently connected with the bestowment of this well-deserved 
 honor, may be mentioned the names of Messrs. Justus 
 O. Woods, of the house of Wheeler & Wilson ; E. T. 
 Bell, of the house of W. J. Wilcox & Co.; Herman Marcus, 
 representing the house of Tiffany & Co. ; W. R. Page, of 
 the Howe Scale Company; and Geo. R. Ostheimer, of 
 Ostheimer Brothers). 
 
 The decoration of the Legion of Honor, with the rank of 
 Officer, was received by Messrs F. A. P. Barnard, Andrew D. 
 White and William W. Story, of the Commission, and Messrs. 
 Cyrus H. McCormick and Walter A. Wood, exhibitors. 
 
 The same decoration, with the rank of Chevalier, was re¬ 
 ceived by Messrs. William P. Blake and Edward H. Knight, 
 Honorary Commissioners; Messrs. Thomas Alva Edison, Elisha 
 Gray, Charles L. Tiffany, Henry Brewster, F A. Bridgeman, 
 J. Van D. Reed, and William A. Cole, exhibitors ; and Messrs. 
 Auguste H. Girard, Secretary ; Henry Pettit, Engineer and 
 Architect; John D. Philbrick, Superintendent of Educational 
 Division ; D. Maitland Armstrong, Superintendent of Art 
 Gallery ; Thomas R. Pickering, Superintendent of Machinery 
 Division ;and Lieut. Benjamin H. Buckingham, Naval Attache. 
 
 The Gold Palm of the University, with the title of “ Officer 
 of Public Instruction,” was also given to Dr. Philbrick (above 
 named), and to Commissioner Eaton, of the Bureau of Educa- 
 
356 
 
 FAEIS IIV ’ 78 . 
 
 tion ; and the Silver Palm of the University, with the title of 
 “ Officer of the Academy,” was conferred on Dr. W. T. Harris, 
 of St. Louis, Mr. Henry Kiddle, of New York, and Mr. J. O. 
 Wilson, of Washington, D. C„ Superintendents of Public In¬ 
 struction in their respective cities. 
 
 Of honors, other than those already named, and that claim 
 to be considered as peculiar, may be mentioned the no less 
 than one hundred and forty gold medals taken at this time by 
 American exhibitors, as against eighteen in 1867, and the re¬ 
 ception of eight of very large size, as “Grand Prizes,” by 
 Messrs. Edison and Gray, for the phonograph and telephone, 
 Tiffany & Co., C. H. McCormick, Wheeler & Wilson Manufac¬ 
 turing Company, Memphis Cotton Exchange, Jerome Wheel- 
 ock, and Bergner & Engel, for the various productions with 
 which their names are so well known to be connected. Also, 
 the winning of no less than seven of the twelve “ objects of 
 art” offered by the Agricultural Society of France for the 
 most successful machines in field trials, by American manu¬ 
 facturers, necessarily headed by Walter A. Wood and Cyrus 
 If. McCormick. Also, the exceptional and special prize given 
 to the American Society of Civil Engineers, for their collec¬ 
 tive exhibit, embracing, among other features, sections of the 
 great wire cables used in the construction of the New York 
 East River Bridge, of which Col. W. A. Roebling is the chief 
 engineer. These sections were a pleasing surprise to many 
 visitors, and in much demand for British and Continental 
 museums. 
 
 In the Art Department but four awards were secured—be¬ 
 lieved by many, but not all, to be entirely inadequate to the 
 excellence of the display. These were, a Silver Medal to Mr. 
 F. A. Bridgeman, for the “Funeral of a Mummy a Bronze 
 Medal to Mr. S. W. P. Dana, for “ Solitude v ; and Honorable 
 Mention to Mr. John Lafarge, for “ Paradise Valley, near 
 Newport,’’ and Mr. Walter Shirlaw, for “ Sheep Shearing in 
 the Bavarian Highlands.” 
 
 The standing of most of the more important American 
 Exhibits, and the honors won by them, will be very fairly 
 
AMERICAN EXHIBITS AND AWARDS■ 
 
 357 
 
 conveyed by the selections following from the awards, in 
 which the effort has been made to group most of those articles 
 reflecting the highest credit upon American invention and 
 industry, without attempting to name nearly all of the im¬ 
 mense number reaching above seven hundred, 
 
 TAKING GRAND PRIZES. 
 
 Bergner & Engel, Philadelphia.—Lager Beer, in Casks. 
 
 Edison, Thomas Alva, Menlo Park, N. J.—Phonograph; Quadruple Electric 
 Pen; Speaking Telephone; Musical Telephone; Pressure Belay; and Electro- 
 motographe. 
 
 Gray, Elisha, Chicago, Ill.—Apparatus for transmitting Musical and other sounds 
 by Telegraph; including the Multiple Acoustic Telegraph, Way Duplex Tele¬ 
 graph, Musical Telephone, and Speaking Telephone. 
 
 Memphis Cotton Exchange, Memphis, Tenn.—Tennessee Cotton. 
 
 McCormick, C. II., Chicago, Ill.—Mowing, Reaping and Binding Machines. 
 Tiffa-ny & Co., New York City.—(Jewelers, Gold and Silver Smiths, and Art 
 Metal Workers, Makers of Diamond and Gem Jewelry).—Gold and Enamelled 
 Jewelry of Special and Original Designs. Silver of 923-1000 quality Spoons, 
 Eorks, and Articles for Domestic Use. Art Work in Silver and other Metals, 
 Repousse Work of high quality. Incrustated Work. Chromatic Decoration of 
 Silver. Damascened W T ork of Steel, Gold, Silver, and Copper. Hammered 
 Silver, decorated with Alloys of various metals and their patines. Mixed or 
 laminated metals, consisting of Gold, Silver, Copper, and their alloys. Electro- 
 deposited Works. Exact reproductions in Gold of the Curium Treasures, 
 Cesnola Collection, and reproductions in all metals of Museum articles. Elec¬ 
 trotype reproduction of the “ Bryant Vase.” [In addition to the award and 
 decoration before noted, Tiffany k Co. received six special awards for co¬ 
 laborers, and a Gold Medal for Jewelry composed entirely of goldsmith's 
 work, with no diamonds or other precious stones to assist in giving brilliancy, 
 the merit being concentrated in design and workmanship.] 
 
 Wheelock, Jerome, Worcester, Mass.—Steam-Engine, with Patent Automatic Cut-off, 
 Patent Packing, &c.; furnishing Motive Power for the United States, Norwegian, 
 and Swedish Departments. 
 
 Whetler & Wilson 3Ianufacturing Company, New York City, and 
 Bridgeport, Conn.—Sewing Machines for General Use; Attachments for 
 Machines and Cabinet Work; Sewing Machines used for Industrial Education; 
 Machines for Sewing Books; Specimens of Work made with Machines. [The 
 Machines of the Wheeler & Wilson Manufacturing Company are adapted to 
 every kind of domestic sewing, and every grade of manufacture ot 6titched 
 goods. Of their, new styles of machines, the “No. 6” is especially adapted to the 
 stitching of boots and shoes, and leather work generally ; the “No. 7" to 
 tailoring and heavy manufacturing; the “No. 8“ to domestic sewing and a 
 wide range of light manufacturing. AJ’ter the magnificent successes of this 
 Company at Paris in 18G7, Vienna 1873, and Philadelphia 1S7G, the fact that at 
 Paris in 1878, the Only Grand Prize for Sewing Machines was awarded to this 
 Company, over eighty competitors, stamps their products as superior to all 
 
358 
 
 PA BIS IB 78 . 
 
 others of that class, and fully confirms the judgment before rendered by the 
 highest authorities in the United States, that the Wheeler & Wilson Machine 
 is “ The Best Sewing Apparatus in the World.”} (See “ Announcements.") 
 
 American Society of Civil Engineers.—Models, Plans and Photographs. [Diploma, 
 &c., equivalent to Grand Prize.] 
 
 TAKING GOLD MEDALS. 
 
 Abendroth Brothers, New York City.—Stoves, Ranges, and Heating Apparatus. 
 
 American Watcli Co., Waltham, Mass.—Watches, Watch Movements, and 
 Watch Materials. 
 
 Appleton, D. Si Co., New York City. — Text Books for Elementary, Secondary 
 and Superior Instruction, G1 vols., in Educational Department. Miscellaneous 
 Books. 
 
 Daier, Walter & Co., Boston, Mass.—Chocolate and Cocoa. 
 
 Barnum, Richardson & Co., Lime Rock, Conn.—Salisbury Iron Ores, Charcoal Pig 
 Iron, Car Wheels, &c. 
 
 Bechtel, George, Stapleton, S. I, N. Y.—Lager Beer. 
 
 Best, Philip, Brewing Co., Milwaukee, Wis.—Lager beer, bottled for Export. 
 
 Bigelow Carpet Company, Clinton, Mass.—Wilton Carpeting. [The original 
 power-loom Manufacturers of Wilton and Brussels Carpets.] (See “ Announce¬ 
 ments. ’’) 
 
 Booss, F. Si Brotlier, New York City. — Fancy Furs for Ladies and Gentlemen, 
 Sleigh Robes and Skins. [Specialty of Seal Sacques, Dolmans, and Fur-lined 
 Garments.] (See “ Announcements. ") 
 
 Brewster Si Co., New York City. — Thirteen Vehicles, ranging from Four-Horse 
 Drag, through all varieties of elegant Carriage Manufacture, to Racing Sulkey, 
 all fitted with. “ Rubber-Cushioned Axle." (See “ Announcements.") [In addi¬ 
 tion to this Gold Medal to Firm of “Brewster & Co.," decoration of Chevalier 
 of the Legion of Honor to Mr. Henry Brewster, senior of the firm (elsewhere 
 mentioned) ; also Silver Medal; and Bronze Medal and Three Diplomas to five 
 heads of departments of manufacture.] 
 
 Brown & Sharpe, Providence, R. I.—Machine Tools. 
 
 Burt, E. C., New York City.—Ladies’ Boots and Shoes. 
 
 Collins Si Co., Hartford, Conn.—Axes, Hatchets, Picks; Railway and Mining 
 Tools; Steel Ploughs, Gang Ploughs, &c. 
 
 Dixon, Joseph, Crucible Co., Jersey City, N. J.—Lumber Pencils; Lubricating 
 Plumbago; Founders’ Perfect Wash; Carburet of Iron; Stove Polish; Pencils 
 and Crucibles. 
 
 Daryeas’ Glen Cove Manufacturing Co., Glen Cove, Long Island, New 
 York.—Maizena and Starch. [ This award is a continuation of an unbroken 
 recoi d of success, having received the highest award in every instance of 
 competitive exhibition.] (See “ Announcements. ’’) 
 
 Fa air Ibanks, E. and T. & Co., St. Johnsbury.Vt,, and New York City —Railway 
 Track Scales. Scales for Weighing Cattle, and fcr Various Farm Uses. Iron 
 Scales for Foundries, Rolling-Mills, &c. Metric Scales and Weights, for use in 
 Schools, with Case. Scales for Druggists’ Use. Newspaper and Letter Scales. 
 Cotton Beam Frame and Scales. Weighing Machines for General Use. [Class 
 54.—Gold Medal. Highest Award given, for General Exhibit. Class 76. 
 —Gold Medal. Highest Award and only Gold Medal to any Scale Manufac¬ 
 turer. Class 15 . — Silver Medal. Highest Award, and only, to any Scale 
 
AMERICAN EXHIBITS AND A WARDS 
 
 359 
 
 Manufacturer, for Accuracy and Precision. Class 68.—Silver Medal. High¬ 
 est Award for Weighing Machines for Military Transport Service. Class 64. 
 —Bronze Medal. Highest Award for Railroad Track Scales. Class 61.— 
 Gold Medal. Highest Award for Perfected Type-Writer. Class 54.—Special 
 Award for Oscillating Pumps.] (See “ Announcements.” ) 
 
 Fairchild, Leroy W., New York City. — Gold pens; Gold and Silver pencil 
 cases, &c. [ Also awarded thirteen Highest medals, at other exhibitions. ] 
 
 Gillott, Joseph, New York, and Birmingham, England.—Steel pens, for Fine 
 Writing, General Writing, and Broad Writing, as used in the First Commer¬ 
 cial Houses in the World. (See “Announcements. ”) 
 
 Globe Horseshoe Nail Co., Boston, Mass.—Horseshoe Nails made from cold 
 rolled iron. (Two Medals.) 
 
 Goodyear, Henry B., New York City.—Machines for Making Boots and Shoes. 
 
 Gossamer Rubber Clothing Company, Boston, Mass.—Rubber Clothing, Water and 
 Heat Proof. 
 
 Hancock. Inspirator Co., The, Boston, Mass.—Improved Injector for feed¬ 
 ing water to boilers. [Lifts water 25 feet; requires no adjustment for varying 
 steam pressures; works reliably, high or low steam, high or low lift, and 
 takes water (suction) 150 ° Fah. Useful for Marine, Stationary, or Locomotive 
 Purposes, and Portable Engines and Boilers.] 
 
 Harper Brothers, New York City.—Text Books for Elementary and 
 Secondary Instruction, 194 volumes. Miscellaneous Books and Periodicals. 
 
 Hoopes <& Townsend, Philadelphia, Pa.—Bolts, Rivets and Nuts. 
 
 Herring, Farrell Si Sherman, New York City.—Fire and Burglar Proof 
 Safes, for exhibition, and for use of the Commission. 
 
 Howe Scale Company, Rutland, Yt.—Improved Scales and Weighing Machines. 
 
 Johnston Harvester Company, Brockport, N. Y.—Mowers and Reapers; Combined 
 Machines; and Grain Binder. 
 
 Lalance & Grosjean Manufacturing Company, New York City._ 
 
 Culinary Utensils made of Agate Iron (the metal being coated with an abso¬ 
 lutely pure and safe enamel: cannot break or rust in ordinary use); Planished 
 Tin (brilliant and durable lustre obtained by the use of highly-polished steel 
 hammers and rolls, and by sufficient labor to thoroughly close the pores of 
 the metal); Tinned and Polished Iron, Copper, Brass, &c.; Planished Brass 
 and Copper Wire; Spoons and Forks heavily coated with pure Block Tin, 
 Blue and White Enamelled Ware, made like the Agate, and having a pure, 
 white Porcelain coating on the inside. Plain Deep and Retinned Deep 
 Stamped Ware; Galvanized, Polished and Bright Iron Ware. Tinned and Ja¬ 
 panned Hotel Ware; also, Toys of various styles and shapes. [In addition to 
 the present award, have received, among others, wherever exhibited, the 
 highest awards at the 1876 Philadelphia Centennial, and at the 1877 Sydney 
 Intercolonial Exhibitions. ] 
 
 Larrabee, E. J. «& Co., Albany, N. Y. — Plain and Fancy Biscuits and Cakes, 
 400 varieties.—[In addition to the Gold Medal at this Exposition, here noted. 
 Silver Medals at State Fair, Albany, N. Y., 1S73, and American Institute Fair, 
 New York, 1874; also Bronze Medal at Centennial Exhibition, Philadelphia, 
 1876.] 
 
 Libby, McNeal & Libby, Chicago, HI.—-Canned Meats. 
 
360 
 
 PARIS IN 78 . 
 
 liippit&cott, J t 15. & Co., Philadelphia, Pa. — Text Books for Elementary and 
 Secondary Instruction, 52 vols. Set of Cutler’s Anatomical Charts. Miscella¬ 
 neous Books. 
 
 McCormick, Richard C.— [American Commissioner General.]—Collective 
 Educational Exhibit. 
 
 Mail lard, Henry, New York City.—Chocolate and Confectionery. Chocolate 
 Statues representing the four parts of the world, made by a new process, 
 weighing one hundred pounds each. Five Medicis Yases, made of solid 
 Chocolate, weighing 180 pounds each. Album, entitled “ Voyage dans File des 
 Plaisirs,” containing 3,000 different styles of Bonbons and Fancy Chocolates. 
 
 Mallory, Wheeler & Co., New Haven, Conn.—Reversible Door Locks, W T rouglit Iron 
 Padlocks, Door Knobs and Handles in Mineral, Porcelain and Bronze. 
 
 Marcotte, 1L. & Co., New York City. — Furniture. [Manufacturers of Cabinet 
 Furniture; Looking-Glass Frames and Plates; Gas Fixtures; Bronzes; Porcelain 
 and Faience Plates and Yases; Curtain Materials and Chair Coverings; Fine 
 Upholstery; Interior Painting and Decoration ; Papier Mache Ornaments for 
 Ceilings and Walls; French and English Paper Hangings; Hardwood Trim¬ 
 mings for Doors and Mantels; French Moquette and Aubusson Carpets; Sole 
 Agency for Carpets of the Royal Manufactory of Holland.] 
 
 Mason <& Hamlira Organ Coanpany. New York City.—Cabinet Organs and 
 Harmoniums. Two Medals. [Inventors and original manufacturers of the 
 American Cabinet or Parlor Organ, widely adopted in Europe. Excellent 
 character of these Instruments has won highest honors at every World’s Ex¬ 
 hibition for thirteen years. ] 
 
 Nashua Manufacturing Company, Nashua, N. H.—Unbleached or Gray Cotton 
 Cloths and Flannels. 
 
 Naval Academy of the United States, Annapolis, Md.—Publications, Catalogues aad 
 Views. 
 
 New York Consolidated Card Co., New York City.—Playing Cards. 
 
 Ohio State Department Public Instruction, Columbus, O.—Reports and Documents. 
 
 Oregon State Commission, Portland, Oregon.—Extensive Agricultural Exhibit. 
 
 Osborne, D. M., Manufacturing Co., Auburn, N. Y.—Mowing and Reaping Machines. 
 
 Philadelphia and Reading Coal & Iron Co., Philadelphia, Pa.—Anthracite Coal. 
 
 Pkcenix Card and Paper Co., New York City.—Fine Paper; Card Board; 
 Cut Cards; Shipping Tags and Ruled Matter, for Printers and Stationers. 
 
 Pratt & WJi.its8.ey Co., The, Hartford, Conn.—Gardner Machine Gun. 
 
 Providence Tool Company, Providence, R. I.—“ Peabody-Martini ” Breech¬ 
 loading Military and Sporting Rifles, and their i^arls. The Military Rifles 
 used by England, Turkey, Roumania, China, America and other countries. 
 (Also, Silver Medal.) 
 
 Heed, iIoSibi Vasa. I>., New York City.—Canvas Hose, and Circular Loom. 
 (Received also the decoration of Legion of Honor.) [Mr. Reed is Inventor and 
 Patentee of the Circular Loom, for weaving Multiple-fabric Fire Kcse, as man¬ 
 ufactured by the Eureka Fire-Hose Company—a seamless fabric of cotton, 
 treble-web or three-ply (weighing 50 pounds per length of CO feet), rubber 
 lined, the result of many years labor, and involving a large expenditure. This 
 Eire Hose is a perfect one, combining lightness, great strength and durability- 
 and sufficient body (one-quarter of an inch in thickness) to stand the rough 
 
AMERICAN EXHIBITS AND AWARDS. 
 
 3G1 
 
 usage to which it may be subjected. It is the product of an ingeniously- 
 constructed Loom, consisting of no less than 6.000 pieces. The fabric pro¬ 
 duced by it, has three distinct solid walls of cotton solidified together (In 
 addition to the rubber lining), so that in case of the one receiving any injury 
 the others remain intact. The producing of Hose in this form ha3 hitherto 
 been considered an impossibility; and the ingenious and complicated mechan¬ 
 ism by which it has been accomplished is justly regarded as one of the tri¬ 
 umphs of modern invention.] 
 
 Remington, E. «$s Sons, Hion, N. Y.— Breech-loading Fire-Arms and Ammu¬ 
 nition. Pistols, Shot Guns, Hunting and Target Eifles, and Ammunition for 
 same. Military Bre-ch-loacLing and Magazine Eifles and Metallic Cartridges. 
 
 Reynolds, A. J., Chicago, Ill.—Fruit-evaporating Machine, and Evaporated Fruit. 
 
 Eichardson & Bobbins, Dover, Del.—Canned Meats and Fruits. 
 
 Russell & Erwin Manufacturing Co., Now Britain, Conn.—Builders’ 
 and General Hardware ; Reversible Door Lochs, Padlocks, Hinges, lire Ir >ns, 
 Chisels, &c. Artistic fittings in Statuary, Brouzo, Nickel, Gold anl Euamel, 
 for Door, Window and Fireplace Decoration. (Received Two Gold Medals, 
 two Bronze Medals, and honorable mention.) 
 
 Sarony, Napoleon, New York City.—Photographic and Crayon Portraits and 
 Sketches. 
 
 Schultz, Soutliwicli & Co., New York City.—Sole Leather. 
 
 Stephenson, John, Company (Limited), New Yk.rk Cf.y—Threo Tramway 
 Cars, with all modern improvements, showing the progress of the American 
 Idea (street railways), from the heavy car whh top scats f r massing passen¬ 
 gers, to the small coupe car for one horse anl managed by one man—having 
 fewer passengers and moving quickly. Among advances in Construction, the 
 following: (1) The door of small cars operate! by the driver. (2) Deflector 
 above the face of driver, showing movemen'.s of passengers (1) System 
 of signal bells, by which seated passengers can communicate v. h driver. 
 (4) Powerful Brakes, stopping the cars quickly, without agitation ( ) Life¬ 
 guards before the wheels, to prevent persons falling before them. ( ’•) System 
 of Springs and India-rubber Insulators, off rding ease of motion. (7) System 
 of Construction and Ornamentation, scouring, in (he highest degree, Elegance, 
 Eoonomy and Durability. (See “Announcements.’') 
 
 Striedlinger & Doerflinger, Brooklyn, N. Y r —Model of Blasting Apparatus used at 
 Hell Gate. 
 
 Swinton, William, Cambridge, Mass.—School Books (series), 
 
 Thurtoer, H. K. ami E. E. <& Co., New York City.—Edible Cotton-Seed Oil; 
 CottonSeed; Cotton-Seed Oil for lubricating purposes. Canned Meats, Fish, 
 Fruits and Vegetables Sugar, and Syrups, made from Maize ( torn); Oats and 
 Oatmeal; Eye and Eye Flour; Hominy,Com and Corn Med; Earley; Wheat 
 and Cracked Wheat; Wheat Flour; Wax and Honey, fi medals.) 
 
 Tiffa ny A < o., New York City—(See Grand Prizes.) 
 
 Type-Writer Company, New York City.—Six '■ Type-Writers " lor printing Corre¬ 
 spondence. 
 
 Enit*-cl States Department of Asrrie»l''ure, Washington, D. C.— 
 Collection of Fibres and Materials employed in the Manufacture of tgoer. 
 Collection of Vegetable Fibres employed iu the Manufacture of To.w 'io Fabrics 
 
3C2 
 
 PARIS IN 78. 
 
 (Cotton, &c.) Wools. Plaster Casts of Fruits and Vegetables. Collection of 
 Insects injurious to the principal Crops of the Country. American Grains 
 and their Products. Essential Oils. Specimens of Woods of Forest Trees 
 (407). Large Plank of Redwood. Photographs of Useful and Ornamental Trees 
 of America. Bird and Fish Guano. South Carolina Phosphates. Dried 
 Blood, &c. 
 
 Wamsutta Mills, New Bedford, Mass.—Bleached and Brown Shirtings, Cambrics, &c. 
 
 Westingliow.se Air Brake Co., Pittsburg, Pa.—Automatic Brakes for 
 Railway Cars. 
 
 White, ganmel Philadelphia, Pa—Porcelain Teeth, Dental Engine, Instru¬ 
 
 ments, Chairs, Foils, and other Dental Goods and Apparatus. 
 
 Whiting Paper Co., Holyoke, Mass.—Fine Papers. 
 
 Wilcox, W. *J. Co., New York City.—Refined Lards, Oils and Stearine. (Ca¬ 
 pacity of Works, per year, 450,000 tierces Lard; 28,000 tierces Stearine; 
 23,000 barrels Oil.) [It i3 notable that no display made by Americans at Paris, 
 during the Exposition of 1378, was more effective or attracted more attention 
 than that of Messrs. Wilcox k Co., who, additionally, deserved and received 
 the warm thanks of Americans by their tender of their splendid Pavilion to 
 Gen. Grant, on the reception of the Ex-President at Paris. Statistically, it 
 should be added that the industry with which they are connected, has few 
 equals in importance, the domestic consumption of Lard, during 1878, being 
 valued at $7,000,000, and the sales of Wilcox & Co., for exportation, reaching 
 during the same year $8,000,000.] (See “Announcements.”) 
 
 Wilson, 1?. H* Co., New York City.—Corn Brooms; Broom-Corn; Wooden 
 Ware; House-furnishing Goods. 
 
 Wood, Walter A., Hoosic Falls, New York.—Harvester and Self-Binder; Self-Rake 
 Controllable Reapers; One and Two Horse Grass Mowing Machines; One and 
 Two Horse Combined Mowing and Reaping Machines. 
 
 Vale IjOcHx Company, Stamford, Conn., and New York City.—Post-Office Lock 
 Boxes ; Time and Bank Locks ; House and Cabinet Locks, and Bronze Hard¬ 
 ware. (Also Silver Medal.) 
 
 TAKING SILVER MEDALS. 
 
 Adrlan.ce, Platt 4§J Co., New York City.—One Model “D” A. P. k Co., Buckeye 
 Mower; one do. with Manual Delivery; one A. P. k Co. “ Buckeye ” Combined 
 Mower and Self-Raking Reaper; one “ Adriance ” Self-Raking Reaper. 
 
 Aikin, Lambert k Co., New York City.—Gold Pens, Cases, &c. 
 
 American Grape Sugar Company, Buffalo, N. Y.—Sugar and Syrup, from Grapes. 
 
 Appleton Co., Lowell, Mass.—Unbleached and Gray Cotton Cloths. 
 
 Appleton, <& Co., New York City.—Books. (See Gold Medals.) 
 
 Boeder, Adamson k Co., Philadelphia, Pa.—Glue, Emery, Sand-Paper, Hair, Moss, &c. 
 
 Bausch & Lomb Optical Co., New York City.—Optical Instruments: Eye Glasses, 
 Magnifiers, Microscopes, Telescopes, kc. 
 
 Bay State Rake Company, Winchendon, Mass.—Horse Hay Rake. 
 
 Bien, Julius, New York City.—Geographical, Geological and Astronomical Maps and 
 Atlases. Lithography and Typography. (2 Medals.) 
 
 Blaike Cru her Co,, New Haven, Conn,—Blake’s Patent New Pattern Stone and 
 Ore Crusher. 
 
AMERICAN EXHIBITS AND A WARDS. 
 
 363 
 
 Brill, J. G., Philadelphia, Pa.—Street Railway Cars. 
 
 Brown Caloric Engine Co., New York City. — Improved Self-Feeding Caloric 
 Engine. [Notable for its steady motion and compact construction. Motor 
 adopted by the United States, English and German governments to operate 
 on Fog Signals and on Electric Lights. Considered the most reliable and 
 effective power for hoisting and elevating and for auxiliary purposes.] (See 
 “Announcements.”) 
 
 Brace, Geo., ?on Si Co., New York City.—Specimen Book of Printing Types 
 and Press Pictures. 
 
 Carter, Dinsmore & Co., New York City.—Writing and Copying Inks; and Mucilage. 
 
 Centennial Photograph Company, Philadelphia.—Photographs of the Centennial 
 Exhibition, 187G. 
 
 Clausen, Henry & Co., New York City.—Bottled Beer. 
 
 Collencler, H, YV. Si Co., New York City.—Billiard Table, with Markers, 
 Cue Racks, &c. 
 
 Corcoran, Andrew .1., New York City.—Improved Solid Wheel Self-regulat¬ 
 ing Wind Mill. [Novel application of wind as a motor, especially commented 
 upon by the judges as combining great strength with simplicity and the best 
 method of utilizing wind yiower for pumping water and driving machinery.] 
 
 Cowperthwait & Co., Philadelphia, Pa.—Series of Text Books. 
 
 Darling, Brown & Sharpe, Providence, R. I.—U. S. Standard Rules; patent hardened 
 Cast Steel Try-Squares; American Standard Wire Gauge; variety of Tools for 
 Accurate Measurements. 
 
 Delamater, C. H. & Co., New York City.—D. L. Kennedy’s Patent Concentrated 
 Power Shearing and Punching Machines, 
 
 Dougherty, Andrew, New York City.—Playing Cards, 
 
 Douglass Axe Manufacturing Co., Boston, Mass.—Axes, Hatchets, &c. 
 
 Erie Preserving Co., Buffalo, and New York City.-—Canned Goods; Fruits, 
 Vegetables, Jams, Jellies, Sausage-Meat, Roast Beef and Poultry, all in Tins. 
 
 Fairbanks, E. and T. Si Co., St. Johnsbury, Vt., and New York City. (See 
 Gold Medals.) 
 
 Fletclier Manufacturing C’o., Providence, R. I. — Boot, Shoe and Corset 
 Laces; Stove, Torch, Lamp and Fuse Wicks; Yarns, Harness, Seine and Wrap¬ 
 ping Twines. (Also, Bronze Medal.) 
 
 Gatling Gun Company, Hartford, Conn. — Gatling Gun, on Tripod; Ten-Barrel 
 1 inch Gatling Gun; Medium Sized Gatling Gun, on Field Carnage. (See “An¬ 
 nouncements. r ) 
 
 Goodyear, Henry B,, New York City.—Machines for Making Boots and Shoes. 
 
 Gregg, William L., Philadelphia, Pa.—Brick-making Machines, Triple Pres¬ 
 sure and Steam Power Repressing, Hand Power Presses. Specimen Bricks. 
 (See “ Announcements.”) 
 
 Gutekunst, E., Philadelphia, Pa. — Artistic Photographic Pictures. 
 
 Harper Si Brolliers, New York City,—Books. (See Gold Medals.) 
 
 Hosgkt >n, II. O. Si Co., Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass. — Miscellaneous 
 Books. 
 
 Hongtiton, Osgood & Co., Boston, Mass.—Books and Periodicals. 
 
 Howe Scale Company, Rutland, Vt —Improved Scales and Weighing Machines. 
 
364 
 
 PARIS IN 78. 
 
 Hoyt, J. B. Co., New York City.—Superior Oak Leather Belting, including 
 large belts in use, of excellent workmanship and material, made from selected 
 hides tanned with Oak Bark by the Exhibitors. Also, Oak Sole Leather. 
 [In addition to this award received highest medals at Philadelphia Centennial 
 Exhibition, 1876; at Berlin Exposition, 1877, and at various other Industrial 
 Exhibitions.! (See “Announcements.”) 
 
 Ingersoll Rock Drill Co., New York City.—The Ingersoll “ Eclipse ” Rock 
 Drill, for “simplicity, speed, automatic rotating and feed.’’ [Has but two 
 quick moving parts, the piston and valve. In addition to the present award 
 has received the highest medals wherever exhibited.) (See “Announcements.’’) 
 
 IvIsoji, Olaketaaji, Taylor Co., New York City.—Text Books for Ele¬ 
 mentary and Secondary Instruction. Four Series of Copy Books and Spencerian 
 Writing Charts. 
 
 Jenkins, F. W. & Brother, New York City.—Flour. 
 
 William S. Co., Rochester, N. Y. — Tobacco and Cigarettes. 
 
 K.aaimz, Wm. F. & < o., New York ( ity. Champagne Lager Beer, put up in 
 bottles, especially for the tropical climates. 
 
 Lea, Henry C., Philadelphia, Pa.—medical Text-Books, 37 vols. 
 
 Lincoln I>. F , Boston, Mass.—Collection of Works on Health of Schools. 
 
 Lobdell Car Wheel Co , Wilmington, Del. Cast Chilled Iron Car Wheels; Cast Chilled 
 Iron Rolls for Calendering Paper. (3 Medals.) 
 
 MacKellar, Smiths & Jordan, Philadelphia.—Specimen Book of Printing Types; 
 Types, Borders and Rules. 
 
 National Rubber Co„ Bristol, R. I —Rubber Goods. 
 
 New Haven Wheel Company, New Haven, Conn.—Carriage, Cart, Wagon and Truck 
 Wheels, and Wheel Material of American Woods. 
 
 Northampton Emery Wheel Co., Leeds, Mass.—Emery Wheels, Patent Solid; and 
 Emery Wheel Machinery. 
 
 Open stove Venliisatiaiig Cc&mrcpnsiy, New York City. — “Fire on the 
 Hearth,” Combination of an Open Fire, Close Stove, and Warm-air Furnace. 
 
 Osborne, C, S. & Co., Newark, N, J.—Saddlers’ and Harness-Makers' Tools. 
 
 Paieii, Gforge & ( o , New York City,—Hemlock Tanned Leather, especially 
 for Export Trade Also Hides and Oils. [The award to this house was made espe¬ 
 cially in recognition of certain characteristics rendering all leather shipped 
 abroad, esj)ecially desirable, in solidity, color and finish. In addition to this 
 award, has x*eceived “Lee” Gold Medal at American Institute Fair, 1874, and 
 other equally flattering testimonials.] (See “ Announcements.”) 
 
 Pern-y, F. II., Providence, R. I.—Preserved Fruits. 
 
 Pltii delpUiaCo legeof Fha mi*cy, Philadelphia.—Collection of American 
 
 Drugs. 
 
 Fiiiludelphia, a <1 He 1 **! i bus? t Hiboad Co^pnity, Philadelphia.— 
 
 American Locomotive, adapted for the use of Anthracite Coal. General De¬ 
 scription :—Approximate weight o Engine, 83,7G2 lbs,; approximate weight 
 of Tank, empty, 22,.:00 lbs.; diameter of Drivers. 51 inches Journals, 6>a 
 inches; life of Steel Tire, 17.” 000 miles; life of < ast iron Tiro, 27,000 miles; di¬ 
 ameter of Truckwheel 30 inches; life of Truckwheel 50 000 miles; side-rod 
 Brasses run 30 000 mile ; ; Cylin ’es, 13 by 21 inches; Roller-Valves (Bristol's 
 Patent), 30 000 miles; L^p j inch Leal 1-16 inch Full Throw inches; 
 
AMERICAN EXHIBITS AND A WARDS. 
 
 365 
 
 Steam Pipe in Boiler, 4 inches, S. B. 4%; Exhaust, 4 to 5 inches; Boiler 46 
 inches diameter, 100 Flues 2 inches diameter, 10 feet 2 inches long; Boiler 
 largest diameter 54 inches; Heating Surface in Flues 850 square feet; life of 
 Iron Flues, 123,000 miles; Total Heating Surface, 967 square feet; Fire Box, 
 inner side sheets Lf-inch. thick, good for 129,000 miles; Crown Sheet Iron 5-16 
 inche, outside Water Grate Bars 2 inches outside, inside, 2\. 
 
 clearance, 4^ fall; will last as long as Fire-Box; Grate Area, 64 square feet; 
 Fire Box 8% by 7>£ feet; Boiler Iron ? 8 ' and inch double riveted; Water 
 Space, 3y z inches; Smoke Box 31 inches long from flue sheet, Stack 20>£ inches 
 inside; Spark Arrester, Corrugated Iron ) 8 -inch thick at bottom, 1-lGincliat 
 top; Pump 3^ by 11 inches; Grate Bars 3-16 and 9-13 inch space; 168 bars. 
 
 Prang, L. k Co., Boston, Mass.—Books, Chromos and Lithographs. 
 
 Pullman Palace Car Company, Chicago, III.—Model Palace Sleeping-Car; Full-Size 
 Palace Sleeping-Car. 
 
 Itathbone, Sard k Co., Albany, N. Y.—Stoves and Ranges. 
 
 iiubber-^iisliioned Axle Company, New York City.—Axles and Wheels, 
 the latter fitted with the Rubber-Cushioned Axle, ensuring Safe and Easy 
 Riding, Increased Speed, also Great Economy in wear and tear. [Approved 
 and used by Leading Builders in the United States and Europe, where this 
 Axle is protected by letters patent. Has also received Medals at the Philadel¬ 
 phia Centennial and other prominent Exhibitions.] 
 
 St. Louis Beef Canning Co., St. Louis, Mo.—Canned Meats. 
 
 Scriboer, Armstrong A* Co., Hew York City.—Text-Books for Elementary 
 and Secondary Instruction (27 vols.) Set of Drawing-Cards. Miscellaneous 
 Books. Maps. 
 
 Sharp’s Rifle Company, Bridgeport, Conn.—Breech-loading Military and Sporting 
 Rifles. 
 
 Stow Flexible Sluift Company, Philadelphia.—Flexible Shafts with Drill 
 Presses. 
 
 Thomas, Seth, Clock Company, New York City.—Tower Church, House and Marine 
 Clocks. 
 
 Thompson, Brown «$£ C’o., Boston, Mass.—Eaton & Bradbury’s Series of 
 Mathematics. 
 
 Tilt, B. B. k Son, Paterson, N. J.—Jacquard Power Silk Loom. 
 
 Tobin, Josepli F., New York City.—Manufactured Whalebone. [In addition 
 to this, the highest award ; received the only one at the Centennial Exhibition 
 of 1876, for “accuracy in shape and form,” “excellence in preparing the 
 Whalebones for all purposes intended,” and “perfect workmanship of pro¬ 
 ducts.”} 
 
 Valentine Co., New York City.—Coach Varnishes. (See “Announcements ”) 
 
 Whitman, Stephen F., Philadelphia.—Chocolate and Confections. 
 
 Whitney, A. & Sons, Philadelphia.—Car Wheels. 
 
 Wiiey, Jolm, & Sons, New York City.—Text Books for Schools, Colleges, 
 Agricultural Colleges, Polytechnic Institutions, &c., &c., on Agriculture, Assay¬ 
 ing, Astronomy, Bridges, Bookkeeping, Chemistry, Drawing and Painting, 
 Engineering, Metallurgy, Mechanics, Mineralogy, Resistance of Materials, 
 Ship building. Steam-engine, Ventilation, Weights and Measures, «hc. 
 
 Willimantic Linen Company, Hartford, Conn.—Spool Cotton. 
 
368 
 
 PARIS IN ’78. 
 
 Yule Look Company, Stamford, Conn. (See Gold Medals.) 
 
 Young, Tliayer & Co., Boston, Mass.—Hemlock Bark Extract Manufactures. 
 
 TAKING BRONZE MEDALS. 
 
 Abbey, Clias. & Sons, Philadelphia.—Dentists’ Fine Gold Foil. 
 
 Allen, John & Sons, New York City.—Artificial Dentures. 
 
 Allendale Co., Providence, B. L—Bleached and Brown Cotton Goods ; Wide 
 Sheetings; Quilts, &c. 
 
 American Printing House for the Blind, Louisville, Ky.—Raised and 
 Dissected Map of the United States. Publications in three styles of type, 59 
 volumes. Spelling and Composition Frame. Writing Guides for the Pencil. 
 Apparatus illustrating new Methods of Making Stereotype Plates. 
 
 American Wine Co , St. Louis, Mo.—Champagnes. 
 
 Ames, Oliver & Sons, North Easton, Mass.—Shovels, Spades, &c. 
 
 Ansonia Clock Co., Ansonia, Conn.—Clocks and Movements. 
 
 Asher and Adams, New York City.—Map of the United States; and Pictorial 
 Album of American Industry. (See “Announcements.”) 
 
 Auburn Manufacturing Co., Auburn, N. Y.—Agricultural Hand Implements : Forks, 
 Hoes, Rakes, &c. 
 
 Barnes, A. S. •& Co., New York City.—Text-Books for Elementary and Secondary 
 Instruction (156 vols.) Miscellaneous Books. The “ International Review.” 
 
 Biehnell, T. W., Boston, Mass. — National and New England Journals of Educa¬ 
 tion. 
 
 Bienville Oil Works, New Orleans, La.—Cotton Seed Products. 
 
 Blateltley, Clias. G., Philadelphia, Pa.—The Patent Horizontal Ice Cream 
 Freezer. [Has received the highest award wherever exhibited. Silver Medal, 
 Franklin Institute, Philadelphia, 1874. “Diploma de Co-operacion,” Inter¬ 
 national Exhibition, Santiago de Chile, 1875. Medal and Diploma, Centennial 
 Exhibition, Philadelphia, 1876.] 
 
 Bolen & Byrne, New York City.—Mineral Waters and Appliances. Syphons, 
 and Aerated Beverages. 
 
 Brown, A. & F., New York City—Siren',’with Fog Trumpet (for Nautical Use 
 and Warning). 
 
 Brown, B. F. & Co., Boston, Mass. — Shoe Dressings; Army and Navy Black¬ 
 ings; Satin Polish; French Dressings, and all Fine Preparations for Leather. 
 (See “Announcements.”) 
 
 Campbell, Hall & Co., New l r ork City.—National Safety Paper, incapable of 
 Alteration, for Checks and Important Documents. [The only sure protection 
 against loss by fraudulent alterations, to be used for Checks, Drafts, Notes, 
 Exchanges, Certificates of Deposit, Stock Certificates, Railroad Bonds, Legal 
 Documents, and all written evidences of value.] 
 
 Clark & Maynard, New York City.—Anderson s Series of School Histories; and various 
 other Educational Text-Books. 
 
 ColFa Patent Fire-Arms Company, Hartford, Conn — Guns and Pistols. 
 
 Cortland Wagon Manufacturing Co., Cortland, N. Y., and New York City.—Platform 
 Spring Wagons, for Pleasure or Business Use. 
 
 Datigliatlay, <J. W. & Co., Philadelphia, Pa.—The “ Model ” Job Printing 
 Press: hand, foot and steam power; for Fine Job Work and General Mer¬ 
 cantile Printing. 
 
AMERICAN EXHIBITS AND A WARDS. 
 
 367 
 
 Demorest, Mr. and Mrs. Jennings, New York City—Fashion Plates and Drees 
 Models. 
 
 Douglas Axe Manufacturing Co., Boston.—Axes, &c. (See Silver Medals ) 
 
 Dixon, Joseph, Crucible Co., Jersey City, N. J.—Lumber Pencils, Plumbago, &c. (See 
 Gold Medals.) 
 
 Doremus, Peter C., New York City.—Automatic Sofa, Spring-bed and Lounge. 
 
 Dorman Manufacturing Co., New York City.—Ja-se-po-ri Ware of Bamboo (Oriental 
 Designs). 
 
 Donnell Manufacturing Co., Pawtucket, R. I —Printed calicoes. 
 
 Fairbanks, E. and T. <& Co., St. Johnsbury, Yt. — Railway Track Scales. (See 
 Gold and Silver Medals.) 
 
 Fall Mountain Paper Co., Bellows Falls, Yt.—News, Printing and Double Manila 
 Papers. 
 
 Fletcher Manufacturing Co., Providence, R. I. (See Silver Medals.) 
 
 Fritzsche Brothers, New York City.—Essential Oils. 
 
 Funck, Joseph, Staten Island, N. Y.—Light-house and Domestic Lamps. 
 
 Gaily, Merritt, New York City.—Power Printing and Embossing Presses. 
 
 Gebbie & Barrie, Philadelphia.—Books and Publications. 
 
 Gubelman, Theodore, Jersey City, N. J. Photographic Portraits ; Specialty. 
 Permanent Crayon, without Chemical Base. 
 
 Hance Brothers & White, Philadelphia.—Chemical and Pharmaceutical Preparations. 
 
 Hartmann, Peter, New York City. — Filigree Silver Jewelry. (7v T ire Work, of 
 Egyptian Origin.) [A beautiful variety of personal ornaments, embracing 
 Bridal Wreaths, Necklaces, Brooches, Ear-rings, Crosses, Bracelets, Ilair Orna¬ 
 ments, Flower Sprays, Hair Pins, Combs, Laurel and Oak Wreaths, Bouquet 
 Holders, Card Cases, Baskets, Epergnes, &c. These goods are made with a view 
 to their being refinished and made equal to new, whenever soiled, and with¬ 
 out any injury .being done to the article, however often the operation may be 
 repeated: a quality specially commending these goods to the attention of 
 ladies.] 
 
 Holt, Henry & Co., New York City.—Text-Books for Elementary and Secondary 
 Instruction (67 vols.) Miscellaneous Books. 
 
 Howe Scale Co., Rutland, Yt.—Scales and Weighing Machines. (See Gold Medals.) 
 
 Hoyt, A. C., New York City. — American Printing Inks of every known shade. 
 [Above award for Superior Body, Unequalled Distributing Qualities, Brilliancy 
 and Purity of Color.] (See “ Announcements.”) 
 
 Ivers, F., North Cambridge, Mass. — The “ Ivers Buggy ” (American Carriage for 
 light driving). [Claims perfection of workmanship, and great durability of 
 materials. Specialty of manufactures for foreign markets, in all styles appro¬ 
 priate.] 
 
 Justice, Pin Slip Syng, Philadelphia, Pa. — Iron and Steel from the Ores direct, 
 without blast-furnace operations. [Invention of Chas. Meredith DuPuy, C. E. J 
 
 Libby, James L., New York City.—Paper Collars and Cuffs ; and Cloth-faced Paper 
 Collars and Cuffs. 
 
 Lippincott, J. B. & Co., Philadelphia, Pa.—Text-Books for Elementary and Sec¬ 
 ondary Instruction. 
 
 Lovell, Job si P. & Sons, Boston, Mass. — Revolvers, Single Pistols, Air Rifles 
 and Air Pistols. 
 
368 
 
 PARIS IN ’78. 
 
 Mason, Volney W. & Co., Providence, R. I.—“Friction Clutch Pulleys”; 
 Hoisting Machinery and Elevators. 
 
 Massey, Wm. & Co., Philadelphia.—Brewers of Ales, Porters and Brown Stout, 
 for home and foreign consumption. 
 
 Matthews, John, New York City.—Soda Water Apparatus, for dispensing Pure 
 Soda Water ; Marble and Steel Portable Fountains for the transportation of 
 Aerated Beverages ; Fountains of Steel and Iron ; Inventions and Processes for 
 the Manufacture and Dispensing of the same, as used universally in the Amer¬ 
 ican Cities and over much of Europe. (See “ Announcements.”) 
 
 Mc.Kenney, E. F. & F. L., Marengo, Ill.—Preserved Fruits. 
 
 McKesson & Eobbius, New York City.—American Crude Drugs and Essential 
 Oils, comprising their entire exhibit—every article being indigenous to the 
 United states. [This line was especially adapted for the export trade to Eu¬ 
 rope, Central and South America, West Indies and Australia. In addition to 
 honors here received, have taken two first medals of merit at Exhibitions 
 at Vienna, 1873, and Philadelphia, 1876, for excellence of pharmaceutical pre¬ 
 parations.] (See “Announcements.”) 
 
 Merriam, G. & C., Springfield, Mass.—Webster's Dictionaries. 
 
 Meyer, Conrad & Sons, Philadelphia.—Pianofortes. [Grand, Upright and 
 Square Pianos. Oldest Piano Manufactory in the United States. Inventors of 
 Full Iron Plate Frame for Pianos, 1832.] 
 
 Morris WSieeler & Co., Philadelphia, — Sample card of Cut Nails, all varieties. 
 
 Morton, James, New Yorfi City.—Gold Pens and Pencils. 
 
 National Rubber Co., Bristol, R. I.—Rubber Goods. 
 
 New England Granite Works, Hartford, Conn. —Vase of Polished 
 “Westerly” Granite. Three cubes of Granite. (2 Medals.) 
 
 New York Silicate Book Slate Co., New York City.—Silicate Book Slates; Liquid 
 Slating ; Silicate Blackboard Cloth ; Slated Paper. 
 
 Ohio Tool Company, Columbus, Ohio.—Carpenters’ HandTools. 
 
 Ott & Brewer, Trenton, N. J.—White and Colored Vases, Busts, &c., in true 
 Porcelain. 
 
 Packer, CIsas. W., Philadelphia.—Ice Cream Freezers. [The “Standard” 
 Patent Ice-Cream Freezers. Medals and Diplomas awarded by Mass. Chari¬ 
 table Mechanic Association, Boston, 1865, 1869,1S74. Indiana State Board of 
 Agriculture, 1871. Cincinnati Industrial Exposition, 1874. franklin Insti¬ 
 tute, Philadelphia, 1874. Exposition International de Chile, 1875. Interna¬ 
 tional Exhibition. Philadelphia, 1876. Paris Exposition, 1878.] 
 
 Putt berg, Lewi; & Bro., New l’ork City,—Fancy Picture Frames, combined 
 of velvet, satin and metal; Toilet Mirrors ; fine Leather Goods ; Metal Grapho- 
 scopes ; and Fancy Goods of great variety. 
 
 Pennsylvannia File Works (McCaffrey & Bro.) Philadelphia.—Files and Rasps. 
 
 Pickering, T. It. & Co., Portland, Conn. — Steam-Engine Governors with Im¬ 
 proved Automatic Stop Motion ; and Speed Adjuster. For use of Commission 
 on Engines, in U. S. Section. 
 
 Plummer, M., Portland, Oregon.—Dried Fruits and Vegetables. 
 
 Porter & Mowbray, Winona, Minn.—Flour. 
 
 Pretty, Grime & Co., Philadelphia.—Gray and Mourning Prints. 
 
 Publishers’ Weekly (F. Leypoldt), New York City.—Book Trade Journal: Biblio¬ 
 graphical Publications. 
 
AMERICAN EXHIBITS AND A WARDS. 369 
 
 Rauchfuss, G., New York City.—Wigs, Toupees and Hair Work. 
 
 Reynolds, A. J., Chicago, Ill.—Fruit Evaporating Machine, and Evaporated Fruit. 
 
 Russell & Erwin Manufacturing Co., New Britain, Conn.—Builders’, 
 Cabinet and General Hardware. (See Gold Medals.) 
 
 Sabin, J. & Sons, New York City.—Dictionary of American Books. (A- H.) 9 
 volumes. 
 
 Sadlier, W. H., New York City. Superior Text-Books for Catholic Education, 
 consisting of Spellers, Readers, Geographies, Histories, Maps and Map Draw¬ 
 ings, Geographical Charts. 
 
 Scribner, Armstrong Co., New York City.—Books and Maps. 2 medals. 
 (See Silver Medals.) 
 
 Scribner & Co., New York City.—Periodicals ; Scribner'sMonthly Illustrated Maga¬ 
 zine, conducted byJ. G. Holland : and St. Nicholas, an Illustrated magazine 
 for Girls and Boys, edited by Mary Mapes Dodge. (See “Announcements.”) 
 
 Seefeldt, Wm. F., Philadelphia.—Band Instruments. 
 
 Semple, Samuel & Sons, Mount Holly, N. J.—Spool Cotton. 
 
 Shoninger, B., Piano and Organ Co., New Haven, Conn.—Universal, 
 Upright Boudoir Pianofortes. Universal, Cymbella, Orchestral and Chapel 
 Organs. [Established, 1850. Highest honors at the Centennial Exhibition of 
 1876, at Philadelphia, and Exposition Universelle, at Paris, 1878, as here noted. 
 First Premiums at New England and other Fairs.] 
 
 Shriver, T. & Co., New York City. Copying Presses, such as are used by Rail¬ 
 way, Transportation and Express Companies, and in offices generally, for Way 
 Bills, Manifests, Letters, &c. [Also on Exhibition, Iron Plates for Grand, 
 Square and Upright Pianos. J (See “ Announcements.”) 
 
 Slote, Woodman & Co., New York City.—Blank and Scrap Books. 
 
 Stanley Rule and Level Company., New Britain, Conn., and New York 
 City.—Boxwood and Ivory Rules, Plumbs and Levels, Try-Squares, Bevels, 
 Gauges, Mallets, Screw Drivers and other Improved Carpenters’ Tools, in¬ 
 cluding Bailey’s Patent Adjustable Planes [of which latter, over 200,000 are 
 reported to be already in use]. 
 
 Steams, John N. & Co., New York City.—Manufactured Silk. 
 
 Steiger, E., New York City.—Encyclopaedia of Education ; Text Books, and Appar¬ 
 atus for Primary and Secondary Instruction ; Kindergarten Materials and 
 Globes. 
 
 Stoddart, John W. & Co., Dayton, Ohio.—Self-Operating Hay Rake, Grain Drill and 
 Broadcast seeder. 
 
 Taylor Manufacturing Co., Westminster, Md.—Three Agricultural Engines, 
 10,10 and 20 horse-power ; Empire Threshing Machine ; Two Engines for Use 
 of Commission ; Model of Clipper Engine. 
 
 Tilden, William, & Stokes, New York City.—Varnishes, especially manu¬ 
 factured for Inside and Outside Work, on Carriages, Railway Cars and Loco¬ 
 motives. Also Japans and Varnishes for Furniture, Pianos and General 
 Purposes. (See “Announcements.”) 
 
 Tower, John «T., New York City.—Iron Planes, Wrenches, Padlocks, &c. 
 
 Underwood Belting Co., Tolland, Conn.—Belts for Commission. Two Medals. 
 
 XJrbana Wine Co., Hammondsport, N. Y., and New York City.—American 
 Sparkling Wines. (Champagnes, Sweet and Dry Catawbas, Ports, Sherries, 
 
870 
 
 pahi& nsr ’ 78 . 
 
 Brandies, &c.) [In addition, had First Grand Prize, Diploma, “Gold Seal" 
 and “ Imperial,” Vienna Exhibition, 1873 ; Two Medals and Two Diplomas, 
 “ Gold Seal ” and “ Gold Seal Extra Dry,” Philadelphia, 1876 ] (See “ Announce¬ 
 ments.) 
 
 Van Nostrand, D.,New York City.—Scientific and Technological Publications. 
 
 Warner Brothers, New York City.—Patent Corsets. 
 
 AVlieeler & Meliclx Company, Albany, N. Y.—Patent Sulkey Rakes ; Horse 
 Powers, for One or More Horses ; Threshing Machines, self-cleaning ; Horse 
 Harrows and Forks ; Shingle Machines ; Ploughs, &c. [Silver Medals from 
 New York, Pennsylvania, and Ohio State Fairs ; also Vienna and Philadelphia 
 Centennial Expositions.] 
 
 Wlieeler <& Wilson Manufacturing Co., New York City.—Cabinet Work, 
 Embroidery, &c. Three Medals. (See Grand Prizes.) 
 
 IViley, John & Sons, New York City. (See Silver Medals.) 
 
 Zell, T. Elwood, Davis Co., Philadelphia.—General Cyclopaedia. 
 
 RECEIVING HONORABLE MENTION. 
 
 Allen, R. H. & Co., New York City.—Warehouse Trucks, for use of Commission. 
 
 Aslicr & Adams, New York City.—Map of the United States. (See Bronze Medals.) 
 
 Aultman, B. & Co., Canton, Ohio.—Agricultural Machines. 
 
 Bulltley, Dunton Co., New York City.—Blotting Paper. 
 
 Claxton, Remsen & Haffelfinger, Philadelphia.—Scientific Text-Books. 
 
 Cleveland Paper-Box Machine Co., New York City.—Paper Boxes. 
 
 Davis, J. W., Washington, D. C.—The Davis Elevating Telescopic Signal. 
 
 Day, Austin G., New York City.—Kerite Insulated Telegraph Wire. 
 
 Edson, Mannoat B., New York City.—“ Edson’s Automatic Recording Pressure 
 Gauge,” combined with “Electrical and Mechanical Alarm Apparatus,” 
 adapted to Steam, Oil, Water, &c., under Pressure, in Boilers, Reservoirs, 
 Pipes, &c. [Gives dial indications and accurate diagrams of all pressure, and 
 fluctuations, upon Graduated Charts, the horizontal lines being a scale of 
 pressures, and the vertical lines a scale of hours—the safety alarm gongs being 
 sounded whenever any specified limit is exceeded. Adopted by the United 
 States Centennial Commissioners, during trials of boilers, as standard of 
 pressure.] 
 
 El dr edge & Brother, Philadelphia.—Text-Books for Instruction. 
 
 Ervien, Charles W., Philadelphia.—Horizontal and Vertical Non-condensing Steam- 
 Engine, for use of Commission. 
 
 Exton, Adam & Co., Trenton, N. J.—Unfermented Crackers and Biscuits. 
 
 Farrington, Horace J., New York City. — Furniture. [Manufacturer of 
 Cottage Furniture. A full line of Queen Anne, Eastlake and Japanese styles. 
 Specialty of Enamelled and Knock-Down Work, of varied and attractive De¬ 
 signs, for Foreign Markets; all manufactured of the very best seasoned 
 material, and finished in pure white lead and best of varnishes.] 
 
 Gaff, Rush & Thomas, Columbus, Ind.—Corn and Meals in many varieties. 
 
 Gay, Edward J. & Co., New Orleans, La.—Sugars, Molasses and Syrups. 
 
 Gurney, J., New York City.—Colored and Enamelled Photographs. 
 
 Hayes, Geo., New York City.—Perforated Metallic Blinds. 
 
 Higginson, T. Wentworth, Newport, R. I.—“ School History of the United States." 
 
AMERICAN EXHIBITS AND A WARDS 
 
 371 
 
 Knapp Dovetailing Machine Co., Northampton, Mass.—Machine for Dovetailing. 
 
 Lassalle, Charles, New York City.—Files of Courrier des Etats Unis. 
 
 Lee & Shepard, Boston, Mass.—Text-Books. 
 
 Lippincott, W. H., Philadelphia—Banner or Shield of a variety of Native American 
 Woods. 
 
 Messereau, W. T. & J., Newark, N. J.—Stair Rods. 
 
 Moline Wagon Co., Moline, Ill.—Farm Wagon. 
 
 National Car Spring Company, New York City.—The Yose Graduated Car 
 Spring, invented and patented by Richard Yose: arranged for Bolster, Pedestal 
 or Equalizer. [An entirely new feature in Car Springs,—the steel carrying the 
 car or light load, the cones coming into requisition when the coil becomes 
 overburdened. At no time, even should the spring be closed, can there be the 
 slightest friction of parts, as the rubber and steel are never in contact. The 
 cushion being soft, the meeting of cones cannot be felt ] 
 
 Norton, C. B., New York City.—Treasures of Art, Industry and Manufactures at 
 the International Exhibition, 1876. 
 
 Olmstead, Fredk. Law, New York City.—Landscape Drawings. 
 
 Oscillating Pump Co., New York City.—Force and Bilge Pumps. 
 
 Page, E. W. Si Son, New York City.—Oars, Sweeps and Sculls, of peculiar' 
 construction and excellence. [In addition, received highest award, wherever 
 offered for competition : at World’s Fair, London, 1851; Paris Exposition, 1867; 
 Philadelphia Centennial Exhibition, 1876, &c., &c.J (See “ Announcement^,’’) 
 
 Peters’ Combination Lock Co., Waterbury, Conn.—Combination Locks. 
 
 Ricketts, J. H., Newburg, N. Y.—Wines. 
 
 Schaffer, William, New Y’ork City.—Square Pianoforte. 
 
 Schuttler, Peter, Chicago, Ill.—Farm, Freight & Plantation Wagons. 
 
 Sheldon Si Co., New York City.—Text-Books. 
 
 Smith's Horn oeopatliic Pharmacy, New York City.—Standard Homoeopathic 
 Preparations. [Medicines; Globules made of refined cane sugar, uniform in 
 color and size; pure, with sugar, the first made in the United States; Tinc¬ 
 tures, made from American Plants; Compact Cases for family and professional 
 use; Alkathrapta, a preparation of chocolate made from the Cocoa bean with¬ 
 out any admixture of spice or flavoring extract.] 
 
 Tuchfarber, Frank & Co., Cincinnati, Ohio,—Enamelled and Porcelain Finished Iron 
 Show-Cards. 
 
 Underwood, John, Hoboken, N. J.—Chemical Safety Check Paper. 
 
 Union Paper Manufacturing Co., Holyoke, Mass.—Writing Paper. 
 
 United States Regulation Fire Arms Co., Springfield, Mass., and New York City.-^ 
 Springfield Muskets. 
 
 United States Department of Agriculture, Washington, D. C.—Collection of Mate 4 
 rials. (See Gold Medals.) 
 
 University Publishing Co., New York City.—Text-Books for Elementary and Secon* 
 dary Instruction. 16vols. Wall Map of South America. 
 
 Waterbury Button Company, Waterbury, Conn.—Buttons, Metallic, with Special 
 Designs. 
 
 Winchell, S. R., Chicago, Ill.— National Educational Weekly. 1877. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS, AND INDEX. 
 
 i. 
 
 ii. 
 
 hi. 
 
 IV. 
 
 V. 
 
 VI. 
 
 VII. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 IX. 
 
 X. 
 
 XI. 
 XII. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 XIV. 
 XV. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 XX. 
 
 XXI. 
 XXII. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 XXVI. 
 XXVII. 
 XXVIII. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 XXX. 
 XXXI. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 The Changes of Eleven Years. ... 
 Omens of the French Exposition of 1878 . - 
 
 A Few Words of the Exposition, Historically. 
 The Opening of the Exposition, and its Palaces. 
 The Opening of the Exposition, continued. 
 
 The Opening of the Exposition, continued. 
 
 The Opening of the Exposition, concluded. - 
 The Exposition that was Opened. - 
 Paris of ’78 and Paris of the Past. - 
 Over the North Sea to Antwerp. 
 
 Antwerp, History and Quentin Matsys. 
 
 Antwerp, Cathedral, Art and History. 
 
 Godfrey de Bouillon and Brussels. 
 Aix-la-Chapelle and the Poulliner Waldchen. - 
 Cologne and Cologne Cathedral. 
 
 Up the Rhine—Cologne to Coblentz. 
 
 Up the Rhine—Coblentz to Mayence. - 
 Frankfort-on-the-Main, and Heidelberg. - 
 A Pleasant Hoiror, at Munich. - 
 Lindau, Constance, and the Rhine Falls. - 
 An Alpine Drift, without Snow. - 
 Ascending the Splugen Pass. .... 
 The Via Mala and the Splugnerberg. - 
 Down to the Italian Lakes. .... 
 Little Como and Larger Maggiore. 
 
 Four Marvels of Milan. ..... 
 Venetian Gondolas, Views and History. 
 
 Around Venice, Generally. .... 
 Florence Art and Mild Brigandage. - 
 Verona, and Over the Brenner. ... 
 Returning to the Paris Exposition—the Trocadero. 
 From and at the Trocadero Palace. 
 
 In the Two Exposition Parks. .... 
 
 page. 
 
 - 5 
 12 
 
 - 18 
 
 25 
 
 - 32 
 40 
 
 - 50 
 59 
 
 - 70 
 
 79 
 
 - 87 
 
 97 
 104 
 ii3 
 122 
 I32 
 142 
 155 
 164 
 170 
 180 
 187 
 196 
 203 
 210 
 218 
 226 
 237 
 245 
 257 
 267 
 277 
 287 
 
TABLE OF ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 XXXIV. In the Vestibule of Honor. ----- 295 
 
 XXXV. The Facades of the Rue des Nations. - 303 
 
 XXXVI. Facades, and the City-of-Paris Pavilion. - - 3ll 
 
 XXXVII. French Art at the Exposition. ----- 317 
 
 XXXVIII. Art of the Nations, Generally. - 327 
 
 XXXIX. American Art, Solus. ...... 338 
 
 XL. Features of Different National Exhibits. ... 344 
 
 XLI. Prominent American Exhibits and Awards. - * 353 
 
 TABLE OF ANNOUNCEMENTS, 
 
 (Following). 
 
 Banking Houses. —Brown, Bros. & Co., 59 Wall street. New York. 
 
 do. Drexel, Morgan & Co., Wall and Broad sts., New York. 
 
 Carpets. — Bigelow Carpet Company, 100 and 102 Worth street, New York. 
 
 Carriags a?id Road Wagons. —Brewster & Co., Broadway, Forty-seventh 
 and Forty-eighth streets, New York. 
 
 Cars and Omnibuses.— John Stephenson Company, 47 East Twenty-seventh 
 street, New York. 
 
 Cognac Brandies. —(De Forge & Co.), Ives, Beecher & Co., 98 Front 
 street, New York. 
 
 Champagne. —(De Venoge & Co.), Leon de Venoge, 37 South William 
 street, New York. 
 
 Copying Presses. —T. Shriver & Co., 333 East Fifty-sixth street, New York. 
 
 Drugs and Medicines. —McKesson & Robbins, Fulton and Ann" streets, 
 New York. 
 
 Encyclopedia (Zell's).—B. W. Bond, 5 Beekman street, New York. 
 
 Engines (Brown Caloric).—A and F. Brown, 57, 59 and 61 Lewis street, 
 New York. 
 
 Fire Insurance. —La Caisse Generale, Paris, and Pine street, New York. 
 
 do. La Confiance Insurance Co , Paris, and 155 Broadway, 
 
 New York. 
 
 Flax Threads (Barbour’s Irish).—Barbour Bros., 134 Chambers street. New 
 York. 
 
 Furs. —F. Booss & Brother, 449 Broadway and 26 Mercer st., New York. 
 
 Gatling Guns. —Gatling Gun Company, Hartford, Conn. 
 
 Guide Books — C. T. Dillingham, 678 Broadway; and H. Morford, 52 
 Broadway, New York. 
 
 Gregg Brick Machines. —W. L Gregg, 115 Broadway, New York; and 
 402 Walnut street, Philadelphia. 
 
TABLE OF ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 Hides, Leather and Oil. —Geo. Palen & Co., 87 Gold street, New York. 
 Lard and Lard Oils. —W. J. Wilcox & Co., Washington, Greenwich and 
 Vestry streets, New York. 
 
 Leather and Beltings. —J. B. Hoyt & Co., 28 and 30 Spruce st., New York. 
 Life Insurance Companies .—The Equitable, 120 Broadway, New York. 
 
 do. The Mutual, 140 to 146 Broadway, New York, 
 
 do. The United States, 261 to 263 Broadway, New 
 
 York. 
 
 Maps and Books. —Geo. II. Adams & Son, 59 Beekman street, New York. 
 Novels. —Geo. W. Carleton & Co., Madison square, New York. 
 
 Oars, Sweeps, &c.—E. W. Page & Son, 69 West street, New York. 
 
 Baris in '67.—Geo. W. Carleton & Co., Madison square, New York. 
 
 Pens (Steel).—Jos. Gillott, 91 John street, New York. 
 
 Pianos. — Chickering & Sons, 130 Fifth avenue, New York. 
 
 Printing Inks. —A. C. Hoyt, 28 Frankfort street, New York. 
 
 Rock-Drill (Ingersoll “Eclipse”).-—I^-Park place, New York. 
 
 Scales .—Fairbanks & Co., 311 Broadway, New York. 
 
 Sewing Machines .—Howe Machine Company, 2S Union square, New York, 
 do. Wheeler & Wilson Manufacturing Company, 44 Four¬ 
 
 teenth street, Union square, and Boston. 
 
 Scribners Magazines .—Scribner & Co., 743 Broadway, New York. 
 
 Shoe Dressings, &c. —B. F. Brown & Co., Boston, Mass. 
 
 Soda Fountains, die —John Matthews, First avenue and Twenty-sixth street, 
 New York. 
 
 Starch Manufacturing Co. (Duryeas’ Glen Cove).—Wm. Duryea, 29, 31 
 and 33 Park place, New York. 
 
 Steamship Lines .—Guion Line, 29 Broadway, New York. 
 
 do. Inman Line, 31 & 33 Broadway, New York, 
 
 do. National Line, 69, 71 & 73 Broadway, New York. 
 
 Varnishes, &c .—Edward Smith & Co., 158 William street, New York. 
 
 do. Wm. Tilden & Stokes, corner of First avenue and Thirty- 
 
 first street, New York. 
 
 do. Valentine & Co., 323 Pearl street, New York. 
 
 Wines. —Urbana Wine Co., Hammondsport, New York, and New York 
 city. 
 
 Wire Cables &c.— Jno. A. Roebling’s Sons, 117 and 119 Liberty street, 
 New York. 
 
 Watches, Jewelry &c .—Ve Magnin, Guedin & Co., 29 Union square, New 
 York. 
 
ANNOUNCEMENTS 
 

 
 
 
 
©KM ''President. 
 
 PARIS IN ’IS.—ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
PARTS IS ’78 — ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 ESTABLISHED, 1 S 27 . 
 
 Edward Smith & Co., 
 
 COACH 
 
 AND 
 
 mC A Rcm> 
 
 VARN IS 
 
 JAPAN S, 
 
 AND 
 
 MANGANIC LIQUID DRYER. 
 
 158 WILLIAM STREET, 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 CHESTER HUNTINGTON. JOHN A. ELMENDORF. 
 
 P. o. BOX 1780. 
 
PARIS IN ’78 .—ANNO TJNCEMENTS. 
 
 AN UNBROKEN RECORD OF SUCCESS. 
 
 Fac-Similes of Prize Medals awarded the Messrs, Duryea. 
 
 DURYEAS’ SATIN GLOSS STARCH gives a beautiful, white, glossy and lasting 
 finish. 
 
 DURYEAS’ IMPROVED CORN STARCH, from the best selected Indian Corn, and 
 warranted perfectly pure. 
 
 DURYEAS’ STARCH lias in every instance of competition received the highest award. 
 
 WM. DURYEA, G-en’l Agent, 29, 31 & 33 Park Place, IT. Y. 
 
PA TtlS IN ’78 —ANNO UNCEMENTS. 
 
PARIS IN ' 78 .-ANNO UNCEMENTS. 
 
 Urbana Wine 
 
 COMPANY, 
 
 njiMMOj^ns<Poit t, jstjzw roA/r. 
 GrdlcL Seal 
 
 First Grand Prize.— Diploma, “ Gold Seal ” and “ Impe¬ 
 rial," Vienna World’s Fair, 1873. 
 
 Highest Honors. —Two Medals and two Diplomas, “ Gold 
 Seal ” and “ Gold Seal Extra Dry,” International 
 Exhibition, Philadelphia, 1876. 
 
 Highest Honors. — Medal, “Gold Seal,” Paris Exposition, 
 107S. 
 
 THE 
 
 
 AMERICAN CHAMPAGNE. 
 
 Also, Sweet and Dry Catawba, Port, Stan and Brandy. 
 
PARIS IN ’ 7 8 .-ANNO UNCEMENTS ,. 
 
 Received the ONLY MEDAL awarded for Copying Presses at 
 Paris Exposition, 18 76 . 
 
 Sold by every prominent Stationer in New York. Philadelphia and Boston, and 
 by tlie Trade everywhere. 
 
 PRESSES OF ALL SIZES, from small¬ 
 est Press for Office use, to large 
 24x27 STEEL ARCH 
 
 FCR 
 
 Railroad, Express, and Transportation Co.'s use. 
 
 Just added lo our List, for copying Way 
 Bills, 
 
 Extra Heavy Wrought iron Arch Press, 15x20 inclies, 
 
 Styles op Finish of very great variety, from Black Japan, striped in 
 gilt, to richest ornamentation in color, 
 
 T. SHRIVER & CO. originated the use oi wheel instead of t.ever for opera¬ 
 ting the Press. Nickel-Plating nl polished parts—New Designs and 
 Elegant Styles oi Ornamentation. 
 
 SH RIVER’S 
 Hydraulic O r » a11 Bl° wer - 
 
 A simple, inexpensive and convenient Machine for sup¬ 
 plying wind to Church or Parlor Organs, by 
 pressure of water from Ciiy supply, or 
 other available source of pressure. 
 
 For Circulars, and any desired Information, address. 
 
PARIS IV ’ 78 . ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 Bigelow Carpet Company. 
 
 -. Oo^oO —- 
 
 Highest Award wherever Exhibited, 
 
 -- —< o=§=o --- 
 
 Philadefphia, 1876. Paris, 1878. 
 
 -- Oo§oO,- 
 
 THE ORIGINAL 
 
 
 WM. B. KENDALL, 
 
 SOLE AGENT, 
 
 100 and 102 WORTH STREET, MEW YORK. 
 
PARIS IN 78.—. ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 BARBOUR’S 
 
 Irish Flax Threads. 
 
 F OR distinguished excellence in Linen Threads and Yarns of all 
 kinds. This is the only Grand Prize given to Ireland, and the 
 only one received by any Thread Manufacturer in the World. 
 
 OF EVERY DESCRIPTION. 
 
 Qlhese threads take the lead in Strength and Smoothness. 
 
 For Sale by all Leading Jobbers. 
 
 
 & SONS, Tliread Work, Liston, Ireland. 
 
PARIS IN ’78 .—ANNO UNCEMENTS. 
 
 McKesson & Robbins, 
 
 EXPORTEltS, IMPORTERS, AND JOBBERS OF 
 
 ^ruggisls jpitnbms, tit., 
 
 AND MANUFACTURERS OF 
 
 Chemical and Pharmaceutical Preparations. 
 
 VieDna. 1873. 
 
 Philadelphia, 1876. 
 
 jnSflESf :£«- 
 
 -He Tiwmu, 
 
 MCKESSON & ROBBINS’ Gelatine Coated Pills. 
 
 MCKESSON & ROBBINS’ Fluid Extracts of Medicinal Barks, Leaves 
 
 and Roots. 
 
 MCKESSON & ROBBINS’ Cinchona Alkaloids, Sulph. Quinine, Sulph. 
 
 Cinchonidia, &c. 
 
 Offices, Nos. 91, 93 and 95 Fulton Street. 
 Warehouses and Factory in Fulton and Ann Streets, 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 26 
 
PARIS IN ’ 78 .— ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 GEO. PALEN & CO,, 
 
 = 87 = 
 
 GOLD STREET, 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 T A NNE~R8s 
 
 And Commission Merchants in 
 
 Leather for Export Trade 
 
 A SPECIALTY. 
 
 T anneries .— Addison, Athens, Limestone and 
 
 Southport. 
 
 GEO. PALEN, 1 
 A. L. KNIGHT j 
 
 4S- The Limestone and Athens Tanneries especially 
 adapted to Leathers for the European Markets. 
 
PARIS' IN 78 .—ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 J. B. HOYT & CO., 
 
 28 and 30 SPRUCE STREET, 
 
 New York Ci‘y. 
 
 ri 
 
 w- T Jm£h 
 
 
 HIGH 
 
 Superior Q. 
 
 EST AWARD FOR 
 
 AkJjEATHER^I 
 
 ELTING 
 
 0?IK+WipED-{*IiE7ITpit 
 
 Pronounced by the President of the Berlin Exhibition of 1877 (where It received 
 the highest award), " the best that ever reached the European Continent.’' 
 
 Received Medal at the Philadelphia Centennial Exhibition, 1876 ; the Lorillard 
 Medal ot the American Institute, 1874, Ac. 
 
PARIS EXHIBITION, 1878 , 
 
 PARIS IN '7S—ANNO UNCEMENTS. 
 
PARIS IN 78.—. ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 THE 
 
 | ONLY AWARD i 
 
 'b ___S' 
 
 FOR AMERICAN 
 
 -HcINKg, 
 
 AT 
 
 Paris Exposition 
 
 1378 , 
 
 TO 
 
 7UC.->F0¥T, 
 
 28 Frankfort St., 
 
 New York. 
 
 “Awarded for superior body, unequalled distributing quali¬ 
 ties, brilliancy and purity of color.” 
 
 Ci 
 
 THE INGERSOLL 
 
 ECLIPSE : ”|SH 
 
 The most Simple, Durable and Effective. 
 
 100 Working in 
 SUTRO TUNNEL and COMSTOCK LODE 
 Special Mining, Railroad and Submarine 
 Drills made, also 
 
 AIR-COMPRESSORS. 
 
 Has received, the highest Medals wherever exhibited. 
 
 Awarded the Silver Medal at Paris 
 Exposition, 1878. 
 
 INGERSOLL ROCK DRILL CO. 
 
 Is Park Place, Hew York. 
 
 Send for Catalogue. 
 
NANIS IX '78 —ANNO UNCEMENTS. 
 
 PWIM878 
 
 
 <-!l f ]fHvl{ROW]^v('7iIi0KI(3vE]VGINER- 
 
 " 
 
 
 Simple in Construction. 
 
 Substantial and Durable. 
 
 No Danger of Explosion. 
 
 Cheapest Running Expense. 
 
 Apply, for particulars, to the Manufacturers, 
 
 A. & F. BROWN, 
 
 57 , 59 and 61 Lewis Street, 
 
 NEW YORK CITY. 
 
ESTABLISHED 184 = 3 . 
 
 PABIS IN '19,.-ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 HIGHEST PRIZE WHENEVER AND WHEREVER OFFERED FOR COMPETITION. 
 
PARIS IN 'IS —ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 W. J. WILCOX & CO.. 
 
 AMERICAN 
 
 Ijtfbml %m\ ;u|rf Tnrtl IHl 
 
 Prepared for Export to all Countries. 
 
 WORLD EEISTOWdSTEI). 
 
 Washington, Greenwich and Vestry Sts., N. Y., U. S. A. 
 
 SALES OFFICE 41 BROAD STREET, NEW TORE. 
 
 Highest Award at Philadelphia, 1ST3. Legion of Honor and Gold Medal at 
 
 Paris. 13TS. 
 
PARIS IN ’78.— ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 Awarded Highest Prize Paris Exposition, 1878. 
 
 The above is a cut of Gregg’s No. 2 Brick Machine, simple, strong, and efficient, for 
 making and re-pressing bricks. 
 
 Gregg's Triple Pressure Brick Machines. Gregg’s Combination Brick Machines. 
 Gregg’s Steam-Power Re-Pressing Machines. Gregg’s Hand-Power Presses. 
 
 Agents wanted in every city and town. Send for Catalogue. 
 
 W. L. GREGG, 
 
 402 Walnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa., and 
 “Boreel Building,” 115 B’way, New York. 
 
ESTABLISHED 1817. 
 
 PARIS IN -n.—ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 
 i—» 
 
 c 
 
 'W 
 
 pp 
 
 O 
 
 o 
 
 r>) 
 
 po 
 
 GQ 
 
 s» 
 N 
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 as 
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 S. 
 
 •s 
 
 £ 
 
 K) 
 
 cs> 
 
 
 sap 
 
 
 gT© 
 
PARIS IN 'IS.—ANNO UNCEMENTS. 
 
 CENTENNIAL AWARD. 
 
 Valentine & Company, New York. 
 
 A full display of Varnishes for Carriage and Railway Car Makers’ use. 
 The merits and qualities of these Varnishes are fully sustained by numerous 
 and reliable testimonials and affidavits of parties who have used them, and 
 by the presence in the Exhibition of many carriages of the best makers in 
 the country which have been finished with them, and furnish further positive 
 proof of the great excellence of these Varnishes in Working Quality, Color, 
 Brilliancy and Durability. 
 
 THOS. GODDARD, 
 
 M. GUIET, 
 
 WM. DUFFUS, 
 
 B. F. MOORE, 
 
 Philadelphia, Pa., U. S. A. Judges. 
 
 Established 1830. 
 
 William Tilden & Stokes, 
 
 CGflcji 4 r^imwHY YWP? 
 
 A SPECIALTY. 
 
 (PR_IjrOI(PJLZ OFIICN: 
 
 Cor. First Avenue and Thirty-first Street, 
 JVew York City . 
 
PARIS IN ’78. - ANNO UNCEMENTS. 
 
 AND 
 
 ROAD WAGONS. 
 
 BREWSTER & CO. (of Broome St), 
 BROAD WAT, 47th and 48th Sts , 
 
 (ONLY PLACE OF BUSINESS.) 
 
 NEW YORK CITY. 
 
 The Standard for Strictly First-Class Carriages for Town and 
 Country Use. Manufacturers of the well-known 
 
 BREWSTER WAGON. 
 
 All fitted with the “Rubber Cushioned Axle.” 
 
 Recipients of Decoration of Legion of Honor, Gold Medal 
 and Diplomas, and Bronze Medals to five heads of depart¬ 
 ments, at Paris Exposition, 1878 . 
 
PARIS IN ’78.—ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 THE HIGHEST RECOMPENSE OVER ALL COMPETITION. • 
 
 PATHS, X867. 
 
 Op 
 
 gol» «v" >V 
 
 108 FEB® 
 
 At Exhibitions in the U. C. First Premium over all Competition, 
 
 ^ alt t„ U ± ersa/ W. 
 
 eiiCEEinrc & gem 
 
 No. 130 Fifth. Avenue, New York. 
 
PARIS IN 78 -ANNO UNCEMENTS. 
 
 DE VENOGE & 00., 
 
 EPERNAY (Marne), FRANCE. 
 
 Established Half a Century. 
 
 The Sales of this popular Champagne in France, 
 England, Germany, Russia, United States, and 
 other parts of the "World, are— 
 
 Sales for 1878, over 180,000 Dozen. 
 
 Branch Houses:—Paris, 5 Rue Scribe; London, 5 Mark Lane. 
 
 LEON De VENOGE, 
 
 SOLE AGENT FOR THE UNITED STATES AND CANADA, 
 
 37 SOUTH WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. 
 
ESTABLISHED 
 
 PARIS IN HZ.—ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 GOLD MEDAL AT PARIS EXPOSITION, 1878. 
 
 F. BOOSS & BRO., 
 
 IMPORTERS AMD 
 
 Manufacturers of Fine Furs 
 
 AND DEALERS IN 
 
 SKINS AND FURRIERS’ TRIMMINGS, 
 
 449 BROADWAY and 26 MERCER ST., 
 
 Between Howard and Grand Sts., NEW YORK. 
 
 Highest 
 
 AWARD 
 
 Centennial 
 
 EXHIBITION, 
 
 AT THE 
 
 1876. 
 
HGILLOTTS 
 
 PARIS IN ’78 .—ANNO UNCEMENTS. 
 
 Wholesale Warehouse, qi John Street, New 
 
PARIS IN '78 .—ANNO UNCEMENTS. 
 
 THE WORLD’S STANDARD. 
 
 Seven Medals- 
 
 FAIRBANKS & CO., Scale Manufacturers, received at the 
 Paris Exhibition Seven Medals. 
 
 Their Weighing Machines received Twice as many Gold 
 Medals as any other Scales. 
 
 More Medals of all kinds than any other Scales. 
 
 More Medals than were ever Awarded any other Ex¬ 
 hibitor at any World’s Fair. 
 
 Gold Medal at a higher rating than any other Scales. 
 
 The only Medal for Precision in Scales. 
 
 And was The only Scale which was placed in the Palace 
 of Industry at the Distribution of Awards, as a Trophy of 
 American Skill and Mechanism. 
 
 FAIRBANKS & CO- 
 
 No. 311 BROADWAY, NEW YORK. 
 
PARIS IN ’78.— ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 ILSON 
 
 EXPOSITION 
 
 Champ-de-J/Tars, 
 
 UNIVERSELLE INTERNATIONALE 
 de 1878. 
 
 —-- (Paris. 8th JTov., 1878 
 
 COMMISSARIAT GENERAL 
 
 ETATS UNIS D’AMERIQUE. 
 
 I have examined the official list of awards at the Universal Exposi¬ 
 tion, as published by the French Authorities, and find that only one 
 Grand (Prize was awarded for Sewing JVEachines ; that was given to 
 the Wheeler Wilson Company of JTew York. 
 
 (Zhe Grand Gold J/Ledal and Qiploma were delivered to me at the 
 (Palace de VIndustrie, October SI, and by me at once given to the repre¬ 
 sentative of that Company at the Exposition. 
 
 (Signed,) 
 
 WHEELER & WILSON 
 
 Com. General. 
 
 M’F’G CO., 
 
 14, 14th Street, Union Square, 
 
 NEW YORK CITY. 
 
 Factory at Bridgeport, Conn. 
 
 167 Tremont Street 
 
 BOSTON. MASS. 
 
PARIS IN 78 .—ANNO UNCEMENTS. 
 
 THE 
 
 Howe Sewing Machine Co. 
 
 28 Union Square, New York City. 
 
 AWARDED 
 
 AT THE 
 
 JS 67 § JS 7 S 
 HIGHEST PRIZES: 
 
 AND 
 
 GOLD MEDAL. 
 
 This cut is a cor¬ 
 rect representation 
 of the first Sewing 
 Machine. It was 
 constructed by Elias 
 Howe, Jr., and in 
 April, 1845, sewed 
 the first seam ever 
 made by machinery. 
 This fact has been 
 established beyond 
 
 dispute, notwith¬ 
 standing the musty 
 archives of every na¬ 
 tion on the face of 
 the globe have been 
 searched, and un¬ 
 scrupulous pretend¬ 
 ers brought forward 
 in the vain endeavor 
 to prove a prior in¬ 
 vention. 
 
PARIS IN 78 .—ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
PARIS IN ’78 .—ANNO UNCEMENTS, 
 
 JOHN MATTHEWS, 
 
 First Avenue and Twenty-Sixth Street, 
 
 NEW YORK CITY, 
 
 Manufacturer of Marble, Steel, and all descriptions of approved 
 
 SODA FOUNTAINS, 
 
 And all the appliances for the making and dispensing of 
 
 SODA and MINERAL WATERS. 
 
 INTRODUCER OF FINE AND PURE DERATED 
 BEVERAGES INTO EUROPE. 
 
 SUPPLIER OF SODA FOUNTAINS. SODA AND MINERAL WATERS, AND 
 ALL THE MATERIALS USED IN THEIR MANUFACTURE 
 AND DISPENSING, TO 
 
 All the Cities of America 
 
 AND 
 
 Most of those of Europe and Australia. 
 
 PRIZE MEDALS AT ALL THE INTERNATIONAL EXHIBITIONS 
 
 ESPECIALLY AT THE 
 
 PARIS EXPOSITION OF 1878, 
 
 FOR 
 
 FOUNTAINS OF UNEQUALLED STRENGTH, RARE ARTISTIC BEAUTY 
 AND ALL THE CONDITIONS OF HEALTHFULNESS. 
 
 This Establishment literally supplies more than half the world with Soda 
 Fountains, Soda Water, Mineral Waters and their appliances. 
 
PARIS IN 78 .—.ANNO UNCEMPNTS. 
 
 Drexel, Morgan & Co., 
 
 Wall Street, Corner of Broad 
 JJEW YO(RK, 
 
 DREXEL & CO., DREXEL, HARJES & CO. 
 
 34 South Third Street, 3, Hue Scribe, 
 
 PHILADELPHIA, PARIS, 
 
 ISS'CJE 
 
 m 
 
 n. 
 
 RAVELLING (jREDITS 
 
 Available, in all parts of the world .’ 
 
 Tit jittsfttYEs 
 
 TJ AND FROM 
 
 Ea;.A.,-v,A.3sr^., 
 
 ANB 
 
 
 Attorneys and Agents of 
 
 Messrs, J, S, MORGAN & CO, London. 
 
PARIS IX ’78.— ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 BROWN BROTHERS 4 CO, 
 
 WALL 
 
 ftEW YOJ^K, 
 
 Issue against cash deposited, or satisfactory guarantee of repayment, 
 Circular Credits for Travellers, in Dollars for use in the United States 
 and adjacent countries, and in rounds Sterling for use in any part of 
 the world. 
 
 These credits, bearing the signature of the holder, afford a ready 
 means of identification ; and the amounts for which they are issued can 
 be availed of from time to time, and wherever he may be, in sums to 
 meet the requirements of the traveller. 
 
 Applications for Credits may be made to the above house direct, or 
 through any first-class bank or banker in America. 
 
 They also ksue Commercial Credits, make Cable Transfers of Money 
 between America and England, and Draw Bills of Exchange on Great 
 Bri‘ain and Ireland. 
 
 Founder's Court, Lothbury. London. 
 
 Chapel Street, Liverpool. 
 
PARIS IR ’78.— ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 THE UNITED STATES 
 
 LIFE INSURANCE CO. 
 
 IN THE CITY OF NEW YORK, 
 
 (Incorporated (850,) 
 
 261, 262 & 263 BROADWAY, 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 ASSETS, 
 
 SURPLUS, 
 
 $4,87-4,947 01 
 $826,873 99 
 
 J71PH£ BIIEItlt, - - PI^EJSIDEJI¥, 
 
 (Also President Imp. and Traders Nat’l B’k.) 
 
 C. P, FRALEIGH, Secretary. 
 
 T. H. BROSHAH, Sup’t of Agencies. 
 
 GEO. H. BERFORD, Actuary. 
 
 ALL FORMS OF HE AND ENDOWMENT FOLKS ISSUED. 
 
 Read our New Form of Policy, on opposite page, and mark its special 
 advantages : 
 
 FutsT.—It is non-forfeiting after three years, upon notice. 
 
 Second.— The entire reserve is allowed as a single premium to continue 
 the Policy at its full face. 
 
 Third,— After three years ell the usual restrictions and conditions 
 
 cease. 
 
Sum Insured $ No. Premium $ 
 
 THE UNITED STATES LIFE INSURANCE COMPANY 
 
 IN THE CITY OF NEW YORK, 
 
 In consideration of the payment to it of the premium of dollars aud 
 
 cenis on or before the day of during each year for the next years 
 
 of the life hereby insured, 
 
 Doth assure the life of (hereinafter called the insured) for the amount of 
 
 dollars, for the term of his natural life, commencing on the 
 day of 18 at noon; 
 
 And doth agree to pay the sum assured, at its office in New York City, to if living, and if not 
 
 living, then to the executors; administrators or assigns of the insured, in three months after due notice and 
 satisfactory proofs of the death of the insured and ol the just claim of the beneficiaries under this policy, the 
 balance of the year’s premium, if any, and any other indebtedness to the Company, being first deducted 
 therefrom: 
 
 Upon the conditions and agreements following : 
 
 I. This policy shall not take effect until the first premium hereon shall have been paid, and both the 
 Receipt therefor and this Policy be delivered to the assured personally, during the lifetime and sound health 
 of the insured: and in case any premium or payment required or agreed to be made now or hereafter, in 
 connection with this insurance, shall not be so paid when due, then this contract shall become null and void, 
 and of no effect, except that 
 
 II. After there shall have been paid under this contract three full years’ premiums, if default shall be made 
 in any payment above specified, the entire reserve on this Policy, including dividend additions thereon, as 
 calculated at that date according to the American Experience Table of Mortality, with interest at the rate 
 of four and one-half per ceut. per annum and the net annual premiums method, after deducting at their 
 face the unpaid deferred or fractional part of the anuual premium which may belong to the then current 
 policy-year, together with the amount of any note, draft, indebtedness or charge (with the interest accrued 
 thereon) against this Policy (other than such amount which may represent said deferred or fractional prem¬ 
 ium already included), shall, ou written demand made at the Company’s principal office in New York City, 
 upon the blank forms furnished by the Company on application therefor, within six months after sucli default, 
 and during the life of the insured, be taken as a single premium to continue the insurance named in this Pol¬ 
 icy in force at its full amount, for such time beyond such default as such single premium will purchase that 
 amount as [non-participating] Paid-up insurance at the Company’s present published rates, taken at the age 
 [nearest birthday] of the insured at the date of said default, subject to all the conditions and agreements of 
 this Contract: Provided, however, that if the death of the insured occurs within three years after such default, 
 and during such continued time of insurance, there shall be deducted from the principal sum payable the 
 amount ot all payments that would have become due up to the time of said death, had no default occurred. 
 
 III. All premiums are payable in New York City at the Company’s office. No payment made to any; 
 person, except in exchange for a receipt therefor, signed by the President, Secretary, Assistant-Secretary, or 
 Actuary, and in accordance with the terms and provisions of such receipts, and in cash, will be valid. 
 
 IV. If any of the statements contained In the Application herefor are found to be untrue in any respect, or 
 if any of the agreements therein are violated, thereupon this contract shall become null and void. 
 
 V. If Wit hill three yenrs from the date named for the commencement of this insurance the insured 
 shall die in consequence of a duel; or by the hands of justice ; or in consequence of the violation of or at-, 
 tempt to violate any law ; or of resistance to any legally constituted authority; or by disease, violence or, 
 accident brought about by his intoxication ; or by any act of self-destruction whatever, whether voluntary or 
 involuntary, whether he be sane or insane at the time ; or shall impair his health by narcotics or stimulants;] 
 or shall have delirium tremens; or without previous consent of tnis Company, signed by the President, to¬ 
 gether with the Secretary or Actuary thereof, shall pass beyond those parts of the settled regions of civilized 
 habitation ol the United States and Dominion of Canada, which lie between the parallels of 50 degrees, and 
 36 degrees 30 minutes north latitude ; or those parts of Europe which lie north of the 42nd parallel of north! 
 latitude; or shall remain after July 1st and belore November 1st within those parts of the United States] 
 which lie south of the parallel of 36 degrees 30 minutes north latitude (residence in the settled regions olj 
 civilized habitation thereof being permitted during the rest of the year, and travel being permitted by first-1 
 class vessels by direct route between any of the above allowed parts, provided no port is entered not included 
 at the time in the limits above allowed for residence and travel) ; or shall personally engage, without like] 
 consent, in blasting, mining, submarine labor, neronautic excursions, the manufacture, handling or transporta¬ 
 tion of inflammable or explosive substances; service upon any railroad, steamboat or other vessel or boat;) 
 military or naval service of every kind, whether as combatant or non-combatant (the militia in time of peace I 
 excepted), this contract shall become null and void. 
 
 VI. The contract of insurance is contained only in this Policy and the Application [which is hereby made 
 part hereof], taken together, and none of its terms or conditions shall be modified or waived, except in writ-1 
 ing, signed by the President, together with the Secretary or Actuary. 
 
 VII. In every case where this contract would become null and void all payments made thereon shall be 
 forfeited to the Company. 
 
 VIII. The proofs of death, and of just claim aforesaid, shall be furnished to the Company within one year 
 after such death, under oath, and in accordance with the blanks furnished by the Company therefor. Any 
 fraud or attempt at fraud shall forfeit all claim on this Company ; no action or proceedmg shall be brought 
 under this contract after eighteen months from the date of such death. 
 
 IX. This Company shall not take notice of any assignment of this policy until a duplicate of such assign¬ 
 ment be delivered to it at its office in New York City. 
 
 X. This policy shall participate in the protits of the Company as determined and declared by the Company 
 iroiu time to time. 
 
 In witness whereof) the said Company lias, by its President and Secretary, signed this policy at its 
 office in New York City, the day of eighteen hundred and 
 
 ... . Pbksidrnt. 
 
 [Wife’s Life Participating, Ed. 779.] 
 
 .Secretary. 
 
PARIS IN ’78 .—ANNO UNCEMENTS. 
 
 OF THE UNITED STATES, 
 
 No. 120 BROADWAY, NEW YORK. 
 
 jSZZ Gash. 
 
 IJIPOIWflpT /IXX<XCK]:IKXT, JULY, JS79. 
 
 The following important concessions are made to policy-holders throughout the 
 United States. 
 
 1. Policies will be made incontestable after three years from their date. 
 
 2 . Each ordinary policy will provide for a definite surrender-value in paid-up as¬ 
 surance, in case the policy is forfeited after three years from this date. 
 
 3. Each Tontine policy will contain a definite surrender-value in cash, in case of 
 withdrawal at the end of the Tontine period. 
 
 4. The contract will be concisely and clearly expressed, containing only such pre¬ 
 visions as are necessary to protect the policy-holders. 
 
 5. The above concessions will hereafter inure to the benefit of all policies already issued 
 and in force, after three years from their dates respectively , 
 
PARIS IJSf 78 .—ANNO UNCEMENTS. 
 
 The Mutual Life 
 
 INSURANCE COMPANY 
 
 OF NEW YORK 
 
 140 to 146 BROADWAY, 
 
 NEW YORK CITY. 
 
 F. S. Winston, President. 
 
PARIS IJST ’ 78 .— AN~NO UN CEMENTS. 
 
 La Caisse Generale 
 
 Insurance Company, 
 
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 Manager Middle States. 
 
 W. G. McCORMICK, 
 B. D. WEST, 
 
 J. B. BENNETT, - 
 HUTCHINSON & MANN, 
 DARGAN & TREZEVANT, 
 
 - General Agent New England States. 
 
 CHICAGO; 
 
 - Local Agent. 
 
 - - - General Superintendent Western States. 
 
 ST. LOUIS; 
 
 ------- - General Agent. 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO: 
 
 ------ General Agents. 
 
 - General Agents. 
 
 DALLAS, TEXAS : 
 
PARIS IN ’ 78 .—ANNO UNCEMENTS. 
 
 ORGANIZED 1844. 
 
 n. 
 
 INSURANCE COMPANY, 
 
 OF 
 
 3 7 PH.AMOE. 
 
 ADMINISTRATORS: 
 
 President, M. DTJOLEEO, (Former Minister of Finance; at present Senator.) 
 M. H. CHARLON, Managing Director. 
 
 EOTJ5CI^Ii £T?I¥EjaE]W, JIIEY ], JS79. 
 
 Cash Capital, ------- 4,000,000f. 
 
 Net Surplus, ------ 6,500, OOOf. 
 
 AMERICAN INVESTMENTS, Registered Bonds. 1 - - $450,000 
 
 TRUSTEES IN NEW YORK: 
 
 Mr. GEORGE C. MAGOUN, of the firm of Messrs. Kidder, Peabody & Co., 
 of Boston and New York. 
 
 Mr. RICHARD BUTLER, of the firm of Messrs. Howard, Sanger & Co., 
 of New York. 
 
 Mr. EUGENE KELLY, of the firms of Messrs. Eugene Kelly & Co., of New 
 York, and Donohoe, Kelly & Co., San Francisco, Cal. 
 
 Mr. LOUIS de BEBIAN, Agent General Transatlantic Steamship Co. 
 
 MONROSE & MULVILLE, 
 
 General Agents, 
 
 1SS 
 
 KTEW 
 
 HUTCHINSON & MANN, 
 
 General Agents, 
 
 S -A- UST FRANCISCO, CAL. 
 
PARIS IN 78 .— ANNOUNCEMENTS'. 
 
 S& The New Novels 
 
 An Unmistalka'ble Flirtation.— A chatty new novel for Sea Shore and 
 Watering Places, by Louis Garner. The spicy young lady who flirts with, and capti¬ 
 vates every man she meets, will be easily recognized by Piazza frequenters. Price 
 75 cents. 
 
 Her Friend Laurence.—An intensely interesting new Society novel, by Frank 
 Lee Benedict , author of “My Daughter Elinor,” “’l'wixt Hammer and Anvil,” 
 “Madame/'&c. Price $i. 50. 
 
 Two of Us*—A charming little novel, by Calista Halsey ; especially interesting to 
 lovers of Decorative Art, and to young women with or without a Lover. Price 75 
 cents and $1.00. 
 
 Ange.—A new novel, by Florence Marryatt , author of “Love’s Conflict.” Price 
 75 cents and $1.00. 
 
 Cnpicl on Crutches.— A Vacation Love Story, or one Summer at Narragansett 
 Pier. By A. P. W. of “The Elmwood Club.” 75 cents. 
 
 Wired. Love.—A bright little Telegraphic romance, by Ella Cheever Thayer . 
 Price 75 cents. 
 
 Sorry Her Lot WS10 Loves Too Well.— A charming novel, by Miss Grant, 
 author of “ The Sun Maid,” &c. Price 75 cents and $1.00. 
 
 Heart’s Delight.— A fresh and readable new novel by E. W. A. Cloth bound. 
 Price $1.50. 
 
 The Two Brides. —A new novel by Rev. Bernard O' Reilly, author of “ Heroic 
 Women.” Price $1.50. 
 
 Gervaise [ L’AssommoirJ. —The only unabridged translation, by Binsse, of 
 Zola's great French novel, L'Assommoir. With a portrait. Price $1.00. 
 
 II. M. Pinafore.—Carleton’s Libretto edition. With Portraits from life. 
 
 Price 10 cents. 
 
 Lady Darner’s Secret. —A novel by Bertha Clay , author of “ Thrown on the 
 World,” &c. $1.50. 
 
 Mississippi Ouflaws and Detectives. — A thrilling new book, by Allan 
 Pinkerto?i, author of “ Molly Maguires and Detectives.” Price $1.50. 
 
 Fallen among Thieves. —A novel by M\ Louise Rayne, author of “ Against 
 Fate.” $1.50. 
 
 Spell Bound. A vivid and intense novel, by Alexander Dumas. Cloth bound. 
 Price 75 cents. 
 
 A Southern Woman’s Story. —By Phoebe Yates Pember , of South Carolina. 
 Price 75 cents. 
 
 Les Miseral>les. —A new and handsome edition of this famous novel, by Victor 
 Hugo. Cloth bound. Elegant. Price $1.50. Unabridged and unaltered. 
 
 These books are all beautifully printed and bound. Sold everywhere—and sent 
 by mai \, postage free, on receipt of price, by 
 
 G. W, CARLET0N & CO., Publishers, 
 
 Madison Square, New York. 
 
PARIS IJST 78.- ANNO UNCEMENTS. 
 
 NEW EDITION 
 
 OF 
 
 PARIS IN '6 7.” 
 
 In order to meet late demands for the companion volume to ‘ ‘ Paris 
 and Half-Europe in ’78 Mr. Morford’s account of the Paris Expo¬ 
 sition of 1867 , called “Paris in ’ 67 ”—a new edition of that book, 
 limited in number, will be issued immediately. No pleasanter or more 
 instructive reminder of the “old days” of the Empire, can be found, 
 than in this volume, in which “Our Boy Tommy” had his origin, 
 and the gayeties of Paris at the height of the glory of Napoleon III., 
 were so merrily described, with many of the most attractive scenes on 
 the Continent as “Side Shows.” 
 
 Send early orders to 
 
 G. W. CARLETON, Publisher, 
 
 Madison Square, Mew York City. 
 
PARIS US ’ 78 .—ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 OUR AMERICAN MAGAZINES. 
 
 The marvellous beauty of the illustrated magazines of this country is 
 attracting attention throughout the world. The edition of Scribner in 
 England has doubled within a few months. The London correspondent of 
 the New York Times says : ‘ The whole lot of magazine annuals (English) 
 put together, are not equal in pictorial art to a single number of Scribner’s 
 Monthly.” But the price at which our magazines are sold is even a 
 greater marvel. For example, a single number of Scribner’s contains 
 about one hundred and sixty pages of letter-press, and from fifty to one 
 hundred illustrations, many of which are works of art such as before the 
 advent of Scribner appeared only in gift works and purely art magazines, 
 and yet it is soldfor jy cents. It would be difficult to find an illustrated 
 book to match it at $5. The subscribers for the current year, get, in 
 Scribner, four full-paged portraits, and nearly two thousand pages of text 
 (equal to 5,000 book pages) of the choicest current literature, with more 
 than 1,000 illustrations, completed novels, shorter stories, poems, reviews, 
 descriptions of travel, the latest thoughts in science and art, biographical 
 sketches, &c., and papers of travel and exploration in various parts of the 
 world. 
 
 In Children’s Periodicals, too, America leads the world with St. Nicholas. 
 Trof. Proctor, the astronomer, writes from London : ‘ 1 What a wonderful 
 magazine it is for the young folks! Our children are quite as much 
 delighted with it as American children can be. I will net say they are 
 more delighted, as that may not be possible.” St. Nicholas is sold for 25 
 cents a number, and fourteen numbers (November, 1S7S to 1SS0) are given 
 for $3. 
 
 At first glance one would say, literature, art, and cheapness can no further 
 go—but in this country intelligence is so widespread, and artistic culture is 
 so extended, that there is scarcely any end to the demand for such magazines 
 as Scribner’s for grown-ups and St. Nicholas for children, and, as the 
 sale of these publications increases their conductors will continue to add new 
 features of excellence and attraction. 
 
 SCCRIBISrER & CO., 
 
 74-3 Broadway, New York. 
 
PARIS IN "18 —ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 Z ELL’S 
 
 ENCYCLOPEDIA. 
 
 With 35 Large and Beautiful Maps. 
 
 Price, complete, - - $37.BO and $40. 
 
 Also Sold in Nos. at 50c. each. 
 
 The shape of the book, type, plan of the work, &c., have been made 
 to produce the greatest amount of matter in the smallest space, and at 
 the lowest cost. The amount of printed matter is equal to that of 
 the largest Encyclopedia published by an American firm. While every 
 essential fact and date is included in each article, yet every subject 
 is so condensed that our Encyclopedia has five times as many articles 
 as the most voluminous ones. 
 
 This gives not only the convenience of compactness, but enables you 
 to make references in so short a time that you are tempted to look 
 them up when your interest is aroused, and they are thus fastened in 
 your mind. 
 
 B. W. BOND, 
 
 No. 5 Beekman St., 
 
 NEW YORK CITY. 
 
PARIS IN ’78 —ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 Map and Book Publishers, 
 
 59 BEEKMAN STREET, NEW YORK. 
 
 S T ^ :£sr ID ^ IR. ID 
 
 MAPS, ATLASES, GAZETTEERS AND GUIDES. 
 
 PUBLISHERS OF THE 
 
 FOR 
 
 TOURISTS and 00MMER0IAL TRAVELERS. 
 
 PRICE 50 CENTS EACH. 
 
 SENT POST-PAID TO ANY PART OF THE WORLD. 
 
 HIGHEST AWARD AT CENTENNIAL FAIR, 
 
 AND AT 
 
 PARIS EXPOSITION OF 18T8. 
 
PARIS IN 'IS—ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 INMAN LINE, 
 
 Established 1850. 
 
 City op Berlin, City of Richmond, City of Paris, 
 
 City of Chester, City of Brussels, City of New York, 
 
 City of Montreal. 
 
 NEW YORK TO LIVERPOOL, every Thursday or Saturday, 
 
 (From Pier 45, N. R.) 
 
 LIVERPOOL TO NEW YORK, every Tuesday or Thursday, 
 
 (Queenstown the day following). 
 
 Saloons amidships; Staterooms large and -wall ventilated; and 
 every modern convenience. 
 
 RATES OF PASSAGE. 
 
 $80 and $100, according to accommodation. Children between 2 and 12, half fare. 
 Servants, $50. Round Trip Tickets, good for 12 months, $135 and $160. 
 
 To London, $7 additional. To Paris, $15 and $20 additional, 
 according to route chosen. 
 
 JOHN fi. DALE, Agent. 
 
 31 and 33 Broadway, N. 7. 
 
 Geo. A. Faulk, 105 South Fourth street, Philadelphia. L. H. Palmer, 
 3 Old State House, Boston. F. C. Brown, 32 South Clark street, 
 Chicago. J. J. McCormick, corner Fourth and Sinithlield streets, Pitts¬ 
 burgh. 
 
 Vm. INMAN, 22 Water Street, Liverpool. 
 
PARIS IN '7%.—ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 NATIONAL LINE, 
 
 SAILING WEEKLY BETWEEN 
 
 NEW YORK, QUEENSTOWN, AND LIVERPOOL, 
 
 AND 
 
 HEW YORK and LOEDOK DIRECT. 
 
 SPAIN, 
 EGYPT, 
 EBGLAJID, 
 THE Q,IIEEI, 
 HELVETIA, 
 ERIN, ~ 
 
 4,871 Toms. 
 5,083 “ 
 
 4,300 “ 
 
 4,471 “ 
 
 4,588 « 
 
 4,577 “ 
 
 CASABA, 
 GREECE, 
 PRANCE, ■ 
 HOLLAND, 
 DENMARK. 
 ITALY, - 
 
 4,270 Tons. 
 4,310 “ 
 
 3,076 « 
 
 3,847 « 
 
 3.724 “ 
 
 4,341 “ 
 
 One of tie above MA6YIFICEWT STEAMERS will sail from New York,. 
 Pier 44 , North River, EVERY SATURDAY, for Queenstown and Liverpool, and 
 EVERY THURSDAY from New Pier 33 , North River, for London direct, 
 (Victoria Docks.) 
 
 The Steamships of this Line are amongst the largest in the Atlantic service leaving the 
 Port of New York, They have been constructed by the most celebrated builders, in 
 Great Britain, and are of great strength and power, and of beautiful model, enabling 
 them to make regular passages in all kinds of weather. They are built entirely of iron 
 and steel, except the merely decorative parts, and divided into water-tight and fire-proof 
 compartments, with steam pumping, hoisting, and steering gear, and provided .with fire 
 extinguishers, improved sounding apparatus, and generally found throughout in every' 
 thing calculated to add to their Safety, and to the Comfort and Convenience of Passengers, 
 heretofore unattained at Sea. 
 
 CABIK PASSAGE 
 
 To Liverpool, Queenstown or London, $50, $60, cr $70, according to Location of 
 Sleeping rooms, All Passengers have equal privileges in the Saloon, Eeturn 
 Tickets at reduced rates, Steerage Passage, $26, Currency. 
 
 For Passage, &c., apply at the Company’s Offices, 
 
 Eos. 21 and 23 Water Street, Liverpool, and at 
 
 Eos. 69, 71 and 73 Broadway, Eew YorL. 
 
 F. W. J. HURST, Manager. 
 
PARIS IN IS.—ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 GUION LINE. 
 
 UNITED STATES MAIL STEAMERS FOR 
 
 LIVERPOOL. 
 
 Sailing from New York, Tuesdays; 
 
 from Liverpool, Saturdays. 
 
 NEVADA, - - 3,350 TOWS I WISCONSIN, - 3,720 TOM’S 
 UTAH, - 5,500 TOMS MONTANA, - « 4,320 TOMS 
 
 WYOMING, - - 3,710 TOMS I ARIZONA, - - 5,500 TOMS 
 
 CABIN PASSAGE, TO QUEENSTOWN OE LIVEEPOOL, 
 
 (According to Berth location,) 
 
 $ 65 , $ 75 , $80, Currency. Round Trip, $110, 
 $130, $140. To London, $5 additional. 
 
 To Paris, Havre, or Hamburg, 
 
 $i 5 additional. 
 
 Intermediate, $40. Steerage, $26. 
 
 WILLIAMS & GUION, 29 Broadway, New York, 
 
 GUION & CO., 25 "Water St., Liverpool. 
 
PA PIS IN 78 —ANNO UNCEMENTS. 
 
 TP BEJ3T 61UDE& 
 
 CHEAP, CONCISE, COMPREHENSIVE, PERFECT. 
 
 Short-Trip Guide to Europe. 
 
 16 mo, cloth, green and gold, with Map, $1.50. 
 
 MOEFORD’S 
 
 Short-Trip Guide to America. 
 
 16 mo, cloth, blue and gold, with Map, $1.00. 
 
 JZSi 5 ~ Make the most reliable dependence of travellers on both Continents. 
 
 C. T. DILLINGHAM, 
 
 678 Broadway, New York. 
 
 MORFORD’S TRAVEL OFFICE, 
 
 52 Broadway, New York. 
 
4 ’ 77 17 
 
 yk< 
 
 PARIS IN 'IS.—ANNOUNCEMENTS. 
 
 1878. PARIS EXHIBITION. 1878. 
 
 It 
 
 AND 
 
 MEDAL1 
 
 FOR 
 
 OIE DRESSINGS, &0. 
 
 
 TO 
 
 B. F. BROWN & Co., 
 
 Boston, TJ. S. A., 
 
 And London, England. 
 
 Manufacturers of 
 
 Army and Navy 
 Bli/ICKIP, 
 
 And all kinds of 
 
 DRESSINGS 
 
 FOR 
 
 LEATHER. 
 «3Crr,TiP jITEDAlj. 
 
 PRIZE MEDAL AWARDED AT