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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
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 The Library of Congress 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/gypsyingbeyondseOOIent 
 
GYPSYING BEYOND THE SEA 
 
 FROM ENGLISH FIELDS TO 
 
 SALERNO SHORES 
 
 
 WILLIAM BEMENT LENT 
 
 r^78r?Vf 
 
 ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH ^COMPANY 
 (.mcorpowted) |32 FIFTH AVE..NEWYORK 
 
 \ 
 \' 
 
THE LIBRARY 
 OF CONGRESS 
 
 WASHINGTON 
 
 Copyright, 1893, 
 By Anson D. F. Randolph and Company 
 
 (INCORPORATED). 
 
 
 John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A. 
 
CO^TTE^TS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Toward the Northern Lights 1 
 
 The Winter Palace 10 
 
 The Cathedral of St. Isaac's 19 
 
 In St. Petersburg 26 
 
 The Hermitage 36 
 
 Peterhof 45 
 
 Tsarskoe Selo ..... 54 
 
 A Change of Base 63 
 
 Holy Moscow 70 
 
 The Acropolis of Moscow ....... 79 
 
 A Te Deum in Stone 103 
 
 Fragmentary 110 
 
 JFintaift. 
 
 An Unbeclouded Way 119 
 
 The Danish Capital 127 
 
 The Venice of the North ....... 136 
 
iv CONTENTS. 
 
 Etalg, 
 
 Page 
 
 An Eden of To-day . . . 147 
 
 The Bride of the Sea . 165 
 
 The Lily of the Arno 181 
 
 The Sanctuaries of Florence ...... 190 
 
 Some Sights in Rome not mentioned in Baed- 
 
 aeker 199 
 
 Ribs of an Old Hulk 206 
 
 A Fagot of Italian Sticks 211 
 
/ GYPSYIXG BEYOND THE SEA. 
 
 RUSSIA, 
 
 TOWARD THE NORTHERN LIGHTS. 
 
 To hear the average tourist, the ordinary 
 hotel proprietor, or the bland ticket-agent talk 
 of a proposed trip to Russia, one would think 
 that over every gateway to the czar's dominions 
 is inscribed the legend, " Who enters here leaves 
 hope behind." "A long, hard journey," "noth- 
 ing worth seeing," "poor hotels," "exasperating 
 customs-examination," "annoying police sur- 
 veillance," and "horribly expensive," were some 
 of the Anak giants conjured up by the crowd 
 of spies who knew not the land; but neverthe- 
 less the few Calebs and Joshuas we met gave 
 us the Eschol grapes of quiet assurance in the 
 remarks, "It is a long journey, but it pays," 
 and, "Be sure to go " As a matter of fact, 
 however, we had no trouble; the hotels were 
 
 VOL. II. — 1 
 
2 TOWAKD THE NORTHERN LIGHTS, 
 
 excellent, travelling more than comfortable, and 
 the dreaded customs-examination were in our 
 case the merest form. Doubtless we were under 
 the surveillance of the police, — our passports 
 demonstrated that; but as we didn't hurt any- 
 body or seek to overturn the present regime, 
 they did not molest us, and the days came and 
 went in a glory of novelty, interest, and inces- 
 sant change. 
 
 But it is hard to get started! Ordinarily, it 
 is an easy matter to procure any needed infor- 
 mation for out-of-the-way trips in Europe ; but 
 when the eyes are turned Russia-ward, all 
 sort of dust is thrown in them. Even in the 
 matter of guide-books one's choice is small; for 
 " Baedaeker " is published only in German, and 
 one must fall back upon large, dull, and volumi- 
 nous "Murray," of which it can be truly said 
 that if what you do want was put in one volume 
 and what you don't in another, the latter would 
 be most cumbersome! 
 
 After all our foraging it was humiliating, but 
 at the same time a little droll, to leave Berlin at 
 the uncanny hour of eleven o'clock at night. 
 For the first time in our wanderings Ave had 
 been able to check our luggage direct from the 
 hotel to our destination, — St. Petersburg. Our 
 compartments in " Wagon-lit," or sleeper, had 
 been engaged some days before, and our beds 
 
ON TO RUSSIA. 3 
 
 were ready for occupancy, all handsome and 
 commodious. The night was uneventful; no 
 collisions or delays occurred, and there was 
 only the steady, jog, jog, jog of the train. In 
 the early morning we looked out upon a level 
 country dotted with fine villages, farms, and 
 detached houses, and having a general appear- 
 ance of high cultivation; we soon passed the 
 Baltic Sea, and about nine reached Konigsberg, 
 where in 1861 the late Kaiser William was 
 crowned. But the strongly fortified station was 
 too far from the town to allow us to get more 
 than a glimpse of distant towers, spires, and 
 roofs; and for three or four succeeding hours 
 there was really little to see, for the country 
 was very level, and each mile simply repeated 
 the one just passed. Yet the appearance of 
 farms, hamlets, and buildings was interesting, 
 all being very finished, and indicative of great 
 prosperity. 
 
 A few minutes before one o'clock we arrived 
 at Eydkuhen, the last Prussian station, and five 
 minutes later we were at Werballen, and on 
 Russian soil at last! Here we left the train, 
 and filed into a large room, giving up our pass- 
 ports as we entered, and waited to see what we 
 should see. The customs-examination was most 
 courteous and informal. A fair, delicate -faced 
 officer in handsome military uniform came along 
 
4 TOWARD THE NORTHERN LIGHTS. 
 
 in a few moments with our passports, and in a 
 most gentlemanly manner asked us in perfect 
 English if we had anything dutiable. On 
 receiving our usual answer to such a question, 
 he motioned to two of his subordinates, who 
 opened our trunk, glanced lightly at its con- 
 tents, closed it, and without any examination 
 of our hand-satchels a porter took them by the 
 officer's order and guided us to the restaurant. 
 That was all there was of that great giant of 
 Anak, which had made us fairly afraid! After 
 that we went through the land with our colors 
 flying, for silken "stars and stripes" lay always 
 on top of the things inside our trunk and bags^ 
 
 It was amusing to note the change a few min- 
 utes had made. At Eydkuhen we saw fair 
 German faces, German uniforms, and heard the 
 German language ; five minutes later we encoun- 
 tered the astrakan and scarlet cap, white cock- 
 ade and cossack uniforms, the long-cloaked, 
 flat-capped officials, and the indescribable Eus- 
 sian signs. The latter, all along the line and 
 throughout the whole country, were near about 
 the death of us. In the formation of the Eus- 
 sian alphabet, it looks as though the philological 
 committee, after a long carouse, had chosen a 
 number of our Eoman letters to use straight, a 
 lot more to place "hind side before," a few of 
 the remaining ones to arrange upside down for 
 
ON TO RUSSIA. 5 
 
 variety; and then, to crown all, they appear to 
 have added ad libitum a job lot of original char- 
 acters of their own distorted fancy, producing 
 altogether a most topsy-turvy result, which 
 would be amusing were it not so exasperating. 
 
 The outside of the Russian sleeping-car which 
 we occupied looked like a long sheet-iron box. 
 Inside, the compartments, which were placed 
 crosswise, were commodious but plain, with 
 oilcloth-covered sides and ceiling, and one small 
 window, — presenting a striking contrast to the 
 rich appointments and sumptuous belongings of 
 our Pullmans and Wagners. 
 
 The change from German to Russian territory 
 is very noticeable, for the farms and buildings 
 of the latter are much inferior to those of the 
 former. The country reminded us of Kansas 
 lands, looking perfectly level, but being in 
 many places really quite billowy and undulat- 
 ing. All over the verdant plain were little 
 groups of one-story, thatched-roof farm build- 
 ings, quite as poor looking as those upon newly 
 opened lands in our far West. As we travelled 
 on and on, however, the appearance was more 
 like waste or only partially cleared and culti- 
 vated lands. The villages were quite uniform; 
 the houses, being of one story, with a porch in 
 the centre, unpainted and brown with age, and 
 with dull-colored thatched roofs, seemed poor 
 
6 TOWARD THE NORTHERN LIGHTS. 
 
 and inferior, although apparently tidy and well 
 kept. Late in the afternoon we passed through 
 some fortifications, and came into quite an 
 undulating country. The whole stretch is his- 
 toric ground, for Napoleon fought over it; but 
 one wonders, from the look of it, what there 
 was worth struggling for! At every station 
 were groups of stolid-faced, fair-haired people, 
 and once in a while a characteristic costume 
 or dress ; but military uniforms, gray-brown 
 worsted or linen working-suits, and ordinary 
 European dress predominated. The station- 
 houses and surroundings were remarkably pretty, 
 in a style plainly the outgrowth of the old log- 
 houses, and were surrounded by neat fences 
 and a profusion of shrubbery and trees. Even 
 the water-tanks were very ornamental. At 
 the larger towns the stations were of brick 
 and very imposing, surpassing any upon our 
 roads. At every "eating-place" we found large 
 dining-saloons with lofty ceilings and palatial 
 appointments. 
 
 At 8 p. m. we arrived at Vilna, — called " little 
 Paris," — a place of importance, with a popula- 
 tion of ninety-four thousand, and a centre of 
 great historical interest. The view of the town 
 (situated in a hollow at one side), with its 
 numerous domes, towers, and roofs, is very 
 pretty and picturesque. The masses of tall 
 
ON TO RUSSIA. 7 
 
 blossoming shrubs and lilacs, just beyond the 
 station, were a sight, and our respect for the 
 latter as an ornamental feature will be greater 
 hereafter. It was at this place that Napoleon 
 on his retreat from Eussia parted with his 
 army in disguise, and heartlessly left twenty 
 thousand sick in rude hospitals. In 1812 it 
 was the centre of Napoleon's operations ; he 
 entered it in triumph on the last of June, but 
 left it dishonored within six short months. It 
 is also the scene of many Polish vicissitudes 
 and hardships. But now, surrounded by a 
 succession of ravines "clothed with foliage of 
 the fir, the birch, and the lime," it presents a 
 serene and attractive appearance, as though war 
 or even rumors of war had never reached it. 
 After leaving Vilna, the country was exceed- 
 ingly pretty, being a succession of tiny ravines 
 and wooded hills, with poor but most pictur- 
 esque cottages half hidden in the woods. We 
 had a glorious sunset, — a clear horizon, with 
 light broken leaden clouds high above, which 
 catching the light were transfigured into crim- 
 son and gold, while the sky glowed in every 
 shade of orange, amber, gold, and yellow. At 
 8.30 p. m. the sun was still above the horizon; 
 at 9.30 the sky was still glowing in glorious 
 tints of amber and yellow, and it was very 
 light. We awoke at 3 a. m. to find it "as light 
 
8 TOWARD THE NORTHERN LIGHTS. 
 
 as day." Unconsciously we had been going 
 north, and had come into the long twilight and 
 early dawn, to which we could never quite 
 become accustomed. We found it perfectly 
 easy later, while in St. Petersburg, at 2 a. m. 
 to read small print without artificial light, and 
 were always obliged to darken the windows 
 with tablecloths so that we might sleep. 
 
 The next morning we looked upon a country 
 even more suggestive of Canada than that of 
 the day before was of our Western plains. It 
 was of course monotonous, but everything was 
 so verdant, the birch woods so pretty, and the 
 cleared farms and houses so picturesque, that 
 the time passed pleasantly. There is so little 
 motion to the train that one can read, sew, or 
 even write with ease. We stopped at Pskof for 
 breakfast ; but as this important town is some 
 two miles away, all we saw was a large and 
 imposing station, with tracks covered with 
 arched roof of iron and glass, and a number of 
 ornamental summer cottages, with attractive 
 surroundings among the fir-trees, quite like one 
 of our pretty Jersey shore summer-resorts. The 
 only other place of note was Gatchina, a lovely 
 and ornamental village of tasteful and pretty 
 villas. Somewhere in the woods near by is the 
 favorite royal palace of the present czar, which 
 contains six hundred rooms, and is surrounded 
 
ON TO RUSSIA. 9 
 
 by an extensive park, neither of which is the 
 public allowed to enter. There the czar lives 
 in greatest seclusion. All his movements are 
 kept secret, so that it is not even known when 
 he visits his capital. 
 
 The last hours of our journey, because of dust 
 and excessive heat, became very wearisome. A 
 few minutes before reaching the capital we 
 could see, in the distance, piercing the hazy 
 atmosphere, the familiar slender spire of the 
 Admiralty, and beyond, the glitter of golden 
 domes. At exactly two o'clock, thirty-nine hours 
 after leaving Berlin, we rolled into the station at 
 St. Petersburg. A hotel porter awaited us, and 
 in a few moments we were driving rapidly over a 
 good old-fashioned cobble-stone pavement. Later, 
 we never ceased to look in amazement at the 
 miles of handsome streets paved in this manner. 
 Upon some of the most important thoroughfares 
 there is a narrow strip of wood pavement in- 
 serted; but the Tartar Jehus seem to take a 
 fiendish delight in driving the little low -wheeled 
 droskies always on the stones. We were soon 
 settled at the Hotel de L'Europe, with attrac- 
 tive rooms, good table, and English spoken by 
 the servants; and so giant No. Two was laid. 
 
THE WINTER PALACE. 
 
 At a first glance St. Petersburg, in a certain 
 sense, was disappointing. At so great a dis- 
 tance from the frontier, and in the very heart 
 of the Russian Empire, we looked for something 
 more characteristic and national, more startling 
 and bizarre, — or, as it was humorously put, 
 expected to see a Pole stuck up here, a Tartar 
 squatting there, and a wild Cossack riding full 
 tilt through the streets, much as many good 
 English people think to see the Indians walk- 
 ing up Broadway. Instead we looked upon a 
 modern and beautiful city, so modern that but 
 for the peculiarly clustered domes, the inde- 
 scribable signs, the droll little droskies, and 
 an occasional priest in flowing robes and dis- 
 hevelled hair, one could easily imagine himself 
 in any other European capital. It is indeed 
 a beautiful city, with many wide and handsome 
 streets making fine and effective vistas, open 
 plazas, and small parks, monuments and statues, 
 churches whose gilded domes and tinted towers 
 flush and glisten in the sunlight, and palaces 
 
ST. PETERSBURG. 11 
 
 and public buildings of great extent and number. 
 Canals wind through the city, and the rapid 
 Neva courses its way through the city's heart, 
 lined with massive granite quays, and faced by 
 fine structures, gardens, and fortresses. 
 
 The Kussian peculiarities really show but 
 little in St. Petersburg. The droskies are 
 characteristic, small, and low, with traces at- 
 tached to the hubs of the front wheels, and the 
 most comically attired coachmen, who look like 
 old women in their long grotesque wrapper-like 
 livery, but like "the girl of the period" in their 
 queer little beaver hats. As bearing upon "the 
 origin of species," it is only necessary to say 
 that the very same hats can be seen on our 
 streets to-day, with the additional features of 
 a feather stuck up behind. We always laughed 
 at the cabbies, and it seemed as if they "got 
 square" by rattling our bones over the cobble- 
 stones every chance they had; and how they 
 did go ! The priests of the Greek Church walk 
 the streets in long voluminous robes and droll 
 band-box hats, and are a wild, unkempt-appear- 
 ing set, with long flowing hair, which oftener 
 than not looks as if it needed a good combing. 
 Occasionally mendicant nuns, in high stove-pipe 
 hats all enveloped in black veils, entirely unlike 
 any costume seen elsewhere, are met. Once in 
 a while, a man goes along in a sheep-skin coat, 
 
12 THE WINTER PALACE. 
 
 and you give him a wide berth. Military cos* 
 tumes are literally the rule, for Eussia is a 
 military despotism. Looking at the officers, as 
 representing an educated class, one would say 
 the Eussians are not a handsome race. Thin, 
 pale faces predominate; about every other one 
 wears spectacles, and all look sober, hurried, and 
 careworn. But one needs to come twice, — once 
 at this time of the year (June) when the climate, 
 the churches, and galleries are warm enough to . 
 make sight-seeing a pleasure; and once in the 
 winter, to see the characteristic sledges and 
 costumes and gay life of the capital. 
 
 Few Continental cities except Paris give finer 
 vistas than those afforded by Nevski Prospect, 
 the principal business street, wide and impos- 
 ing, and ending with a park, above the great 
 trees of which, like a lance hurtling through 
 the air, appears the slender spire of the Admi- 
 ralty; or by the turbid rapid Neva, with its 
 long line of palaces and public buildings dying 
 away in the soft golden haze of distance. The 
 city itself is monumental, a tribute to indomit- 
 able energy and perseverance, for its site was 
 an extensive marsh when in 1703 Peter the 
 Great began its construction. It is said that 
 for years forty thousand men were drafted 
 annually from distant parts of the empire to work 
 upon this " window to the north" which he 
 
ST. PETERSBURG. 13 
 
 wished to create; and they tell a droll story, 
 that for years every cart or vessel that entered 
 it was bound to bring a certain number of 
 cobble-stones for paving. From present appear- 
 ances it is doubtful if a single one was ever lost 
 or wasted. Embellished and enriched by a long 
 line of sovereigns, the monotonous but beautiful 
 metropolis floats to-day like a richly ladened 
 Argosy literally upon (for it is surrounded by) 
 the waters, and in constant peril of inundation. 
 
 None of the Eoyal or Grand Ducal or impos- 
 ing private palaces are open to visitors save 
 the celebrated Winter Palace, long the abode 
 of the court, and the scene in former j^ears of 
 festivities and gayeties of unsurpassed extrava- 
 gance and lavish richness and display; and con- 
 siderable "red tape" had to be unrolled before 
 we found admittance even to this. First, a call 
 at our own embassy, where a polite request was 
 written for us ; then, a presentation at the palace, 
 only to be told that we must apply at an office 
 of the court, there to be told that the card of 
 admission would be given the next day; then, 
 fully armed and equipped, we presented our- 
 selves at the stated time, only to be told that 
 some foreign prince was to be shown the rooms, 
 and no one else would be admitted; finally, 
 upon the third and last time success perched 
 upon our banners. Gorgeously attired flunkies 
 
14 THE WINTER PALACE. 
 
 received us, and in a few moments we began 
 what proved to be a continuous walk of two 
 hours, through apartments grande and petite; 
 through glittering marble halls, salons gorgeous 
 with colors and gold; corridors brilliant with 
 pictures; winter gardens of palms and ferns; 
 suites of private drawing-rooms, etc., furnished 
 much as such rooms are everywhere by persons 
 of wealth, and suites of dainty bedrooms, 
 boudoirs, baths, etc. It tired us out, for the 
 polished floors were as slippery as glass, and 
 the maze of decorations and multitude of pic- 
 tures and "articles of bigotry and virtue," 
 necessitated a wearisome craning of the neck 
 in every direction. The structure is simply 
 immense, with a frontage upon the Neva of 455 
 feet, and a depth of 350, and a wide exposure 
 on three sides, and a height of four stories. It 
 is neither imposing nor impressive, being monoto- 
 nous in style, of a warm pinkish terra-cotta 
 tint, and quite like a huge hotel. The grand 
 entrance faces the Neva; and from the top of its 
 porch, which forms a large balcony, the most 
 magnificent and sweeping view in the city up 
 and down the river is obtained. Lifted just 
 high enough, the eye takes in the entire sweep 
 of the rapid stream until it bends in either 
 direction out of sight. It was superb, that 
 lovely sunny day, for every palace and public 
 
ST. PETERSBURG. 15 
 
 building, every dome and tower, was ablaze with 
 golden sunlight. 
 
 The palace is a perfect labyrinth, confusing 
 and wearisome. Since the cruel death of the 
 late emperor it has been used only for state 
 ceremonials, banquets, and court balls. When 
 illuminated, it must be dazzling and magnifi- 
 cent. We went up stairs and down, a half-mile 
 here and a half-mile there, and saw the stately 
 marble staircases, the enormous and imposing 
 state departments, and the pretty little suites 
 of private rooms; we also saw the place where 
 the premature but fearful explosion of dynamite 
 occurred in 1880, just as the late emperor and 
 family, with several royal guests and a brilliant 
 court, were passing into the banqueting-hall, 
 and the staircase, by which a year later the 
 fearfully lacerated emperor was brought into 
 the palace to die. 
 
 To give an idea of the state rooms, we note, 
 first, the Nicholas Hall, or ball-room, — a most 
 lofty, palatial, and magnificent apartment with 
 four immense buffets, gorgeous with, huge and 
 superb pieces of gold and silver plate, and with 
 eight crystal chandeliers and twelve standard 
 candelabra, all of enormous size, making the 
 cold, white, and golden rooms a glitter of iri- 
 descent and prismatic lights. Then, second, 
 there was St. George's Hall (one hundred and 
 
16 THE WINTER PALACE. 
 
 forty feet long and sixty feet wide), with mag- 
 nificent Corinthian columns; a large concert 
 room, with shelves heavily laden with enormous 
 gold platters and dishes, exquisitely encrusted 
 with brilliantly colored enamels; another room 
 richly fitted up and covered with lovely blue 
 china; a circular hall, with balustraded gallery 
 and domed roof, hung with faultlessly beautiful 
 full-length portraits of several defunct emperors 
 and empresses, against superb draperies of 
 plush. One room had furniture of solid silver; 
 another a gorgeous throne-room, a dazzle of gold 
 and color; and still another two-story room, 
 with eight huge panels hung closely with gold 
 and silver plate. The amber, gold, and silver 
 ornaments, statues, porcelains, crystals, and 
 china were simply magnificent. In many of 
 the rooms were enormous candelabra and vases, 
 twelve and fifteen feet high, of St. Petersburg 
 glass, resembling closely the exquisite rock- 
 crystal, superbly mounted in delicate ormolu. 
 Equally tall vases of porcelain, exquisitely 
 painted, graced some of the rooms. The furni- 
 ture was principally of gold and crimson. One 
 room was filled with testimonials and gifts 
 presented in 1880 to Alexander II. upon the 
 twenty-fifth anniversary of his accession to the 
 throne. It was a regular museum of books 
 with bindings studded with gems, marvellous 
 
ST. PETERSBURG. 17 
 
 embroideries, and articles in gold, silver, and 
 bronze. With the exception of a few of the 
 "Old Masters" in the private drawing-rooms, 
 the pictures all through the wilderness of cor- 
 ridors and rooms were war-scenes upon land 
 and sea; some in the wild mountain-passes, in 
 raging snow-storms, were repulsive and pain- 
 ful. One wearies of all this strife and blood 
 and carnage. These pictures quite stamp upon 
 the palace a national character of brute force. 
 They say an Englishman awakes in the morn- 
 ing and says, "Let us kill something;" but 
 judging from these pictures, the Eussian must 
 be able to take an extra snooze, for there can 
 be nothing left to kill! 
 
 We witnessed an amusing and grotesque scene 
 in one of the wide spacious corridors, where a 
 squad of fifteen men, under the command of an 
 officer, were polishing the glassy floor. With 
 something bound to each foot, they moved with 
 skating-like motion, in concert, with all the 
 precision of a dance or military drill. 
 
 The rooms and decorations were all showy 
 and glittering. The suites of rooms occupied 
 by different emperors and empresses, with 
 appointments, toilet articles, etc., just as they 
 left them, and the camp-beds upon which the 
 Emperors Alexander and Nicholas died, form 
 a most pathetic sight. The Grand Chapel is a 
 
18 THE WINTER PALACE. 
 
 wild, barbarous, and bizarre tumult of gold and 
 rococo ornamentation, with a hideous "ikon," 
 or religious picture, "unwrought by hands," and 
 another painted by Saint Luke ! The rubies 
 and sapphires around them surpass all the mag- 
 nificent ones in other churches. Beside them 
 even the diamonds are insignificant. Close to 
 it, in a costly cabinet, was the dried hand of 
 John the Baptist ! Much to our regret we did 
 not see the crown jewels, long one of the sights 
 of Europe, with the "Orloff," the largest cut 
 diamond in the world; for they have not been 
 shown for the last ten years. 
 
 It is a wearisome tramp through this palace, 
 but one would not like to lose it; and even 
 with modest fees there is nothing left of five 
 dollars when the sight-seeing is finished! Three 
 officials received us ; another attended us through- 
 out the tour; at every suite a servant stood 
 with the keys and took us in (in more ways 
 than one) ; and every one of them expected and 
 received a fee! 
 
St. Isaac's. 
 
THE CATHEDRAL OF ST. ISAAC'S. 
 
 The morning after our arrival, without plan 
 or purpose, we sauntered along Nevski Pros- 
 pect, the principal business thoroughfare, — a 
 scene of life and gayety, with droskies and 
 carriages and many large and very handsome 
 coal-black horses, dashing rapidly along, and 
 a succession of pretty little shops, with a good 
 display of Russian manufactures. At these the 
 gold-plated and brilliant-colored enamelled silver 
 table-ware and the peculiar papier-mache and 
 lacquered articles were peculiarly beautiful. The 
 country embroideries were not pretty enough to 
 bring away, although the "drawn work" was 
 exquisite. The gold and silver brocades for 
 ecclesiastical and court purposes were magnifi- 
 cent, and seemed often like spun metal. But 
 we looked in vain for anything novel in Russian 
 leather. The metal-work, such as chandeliers, 
 hanging lamps, etc., are unusually handsome. 
 
 Turning toward a little park at the end, we 
 caught a glimpse of the Cathedral of St. Isaac's, 
 the grandest and finest building in the city. 
 
20 THE CATHEDRAL OF ST. ISAAC'S. 
 
 Now, a glimpse of a stately and imposing cathe- 
 dral has much the same effect upon inveterate 
 travellers as a red rag has upon a bull. In an 
 instant we were in a glow, and to the cathedral 
 we must go. As it stands in an immense open 
 square, we first walked all around it, and saw its 
 grand proportions, stately architecture, noble 
 porticos, superb dome, enormous columns, and 
 large groups of bronze statues, to the best advan- 
 tage. In its massiveness and simplicity, its in- 
 trinsic costliness of material, its immense propor- 
 tions, and its grand and solemn impressiveness, it 
 ranks with the finest structures in Europe; while 
 its isolated position gives it an advantage over 
 many, in that it throws every architectural line 
 and peculiarity in boldest relief, so that nothing 
 is lost. It is in the form of a Greek cross, with 
 a superb and imposing portico and magnificent 
 flights of granite steps at the end of each arm, 
 and lofty portals and elaborate doors of bronze. 
 Figures alone can convey an idea of its costli- 
 ness and extent. Its foundations measure three 
 hundred and sixty-four by three hundred and 
 fifteen feet. Each of the porticos is supported 
 by forty-eight columns, sixty feet in height and 
 seven feet in diameter, "all magnificent, round, 
 and highly polished monoliths M of Finland gran- 
 ite, resting upon superb bases and crowned with 
 richly wrought capitals of bronze. Upon the 
 
ST. PETERSBURG. 21 
 
 frieze above them are texts in great bronze let- 
 ters, such as "To the King of Kings," and 
 " Mine house shall be called a house of prayer." 
 In each pediment above is a colossal group in 
 bronze. Cupolas rise from each of the four 
 corners, and in the centre appears a huge but 
 perfectly proportioned dome. The barrel of 
 this, lifted high in air, is encircled by twenty- 
 four smoothly polished granite columns (" thirty 
 feet in height and weighing sixty-four tons 
 each"), above which springs the dome itself, 
 covered with gold, with a lantern above it, sup- 
 porting a cross three hundred and thirty-six feet 
 above the pavement, It is said that two hun- 
 dred pounds' weight of gold were used upon 
 the dome, and one hundred and eight pounds 
 upon the decorations of the interior, The entire 
 cost is said to have been sixteen and a quarter 
 millions of dollars, — one million alone having 
 been expended in the driving of piles for foun- 
 dations, because of marshy soil. 
 
 Upon entering, our first feeling was that of 
 disappointment. It seemed so very dark. But 
 as the eye became accustomed to the "dim reli- 
 gious light," the magnificent, solemn, and stately 
 character of the structure appeared. The effect 
 is one of sombre, oppressive, and magnificent 
 proportions. The great dome soars away, dingy 
 and dull, however. One cannot help thinking 
 
22 THE CATHEDRAL OF ST ISAAC'S. 
 
 of that of St. Peter's with its heavenly blue, 
 its cheering glory of golden stars and orna- 
 ments, and its clouds of prophets and saints, 
 and its glad and exultant expression. Costliness 
 of material and lavish use of the same is duly 
 impressed upon one by the screens across the 
 entire altar end of the building; for they are 
 a blaze of gilding, mosaic pictures, and enor- 
 mous malachite and lapis-lazuli columns with 
 richly burnished and wrought capitals and bases 
 of golden bronze. There are ten hollow iron 
 columns coated with malachite, and two with 
 lapis-lazuli more than thirty feet in height, the 
 latter said to have cost thirty thousand dollars 
 each. In the centre are two lofty metal gates, 
 or doors (twenty-three feet high) of bronze, of 
 openwork pattern, so exquisitely wrought and 
 richly gilded as to seem of solid gold. 
 
 The Greek Church differs widely from the 
 Eomish in its forms and ritual. No instru- 
 mental music is allowed. This cathedral has 
 a choir of men and boys that ranks second 
 only to the Chapel Royal. As they stood upon 
 either side of the great golden gateways, all in 
 dark -blue robes, they looked hideous, but sang 
 divinely. Just what the service was we knew 
 not. The priests in gorgeous flowing robes of 
 blue and gold brocade, and with long, unkempt, 
 and dishevelled hair, came through the gates from 
 
ST. PETERSBURG, 23 
 
 the inner shrine and walked with a swaying, 
 commanding air to an altar against one of the 
 central piers, and there, before a jewel-encrusted 
 and gold-covered Madonna and child, intoned a 
 service. Such constant attention and apparent 
 participation in the service by the people are 
 rarely ever seen. They cross themselves every 
 few moments most peculiarly, repeating the 
 motion very rapidly three times, and then bow 
 low, or upon their knees, bend over and touch 
 their foreheads to the earth. The effect of a 
 large concourse thus swaying to and fro is most 
 singular, but at the same time solemn and im- 
 pressive. Those who cannot look upon the 
 religious expression of any service, no matter 
 how little they may sympathize with it, without 
 a feeling of pathetic reverence and sincere 
 respect, are to be pitied. There was more or 
 less of candle lighting and extinguishing, and 
 at the end the people ascended the platform, 
 kissed fervently the picture, and passing the 
 high priest with cap or mitre, dazzling with 
 costly jewels, kissed the crucifix in his hand. 
 Then the procession of priests with lordly mien 
 passed through the crowd, entered the portals, 
 and the great golden gates were closed. 
 
 There are 'no chairs or seats in the great 
 church; all stand, for rich and poor are the 
 same before God. Even the emperor stands 
 
24 THE CATHEDRAL OF ST. ISAAC'S. 
 
 upon a dais, beneath a regal canopy, to one 
 side. All around the churches are "ikons," or 
 religious pictures of Madonnas or saints, richly 
 framed, — some hanging upon the walls, and 
 others supported by sumptuously carved and 
 gilded lecterns. Only the hands and faces 
 show as a general thing; all the rest is covered 
 with a thin, elaborately-embossed and curiously- 
 wrought plate of gold, often superbly ornamented 
 with pearls, diamonds, and costly gems. The 
 effect is rather fussy, showy, and tawdry in spite 
 of the limitless cosfc, and does not accord with 
 the stately, imposing character and dignity of 
 the larger buildings. But none of their churches 
 give the peculiarly solemn and spiritual impres- 
 sion which is the charm of so many of the great 
 European cathedrals. The blinding blaze of 
 gold, the riot of costly gems and priceless deco- 
 rations, appeal to the sensuous and material, and 
 while they dazzle the eyes do not so touch the 
 sober, tender, and solemn stratum that lies some- 
 where in every heart. So far as observance of 
 form indicates, the Russians are a very devout 
 people. It is curious to note all classes and 
 conditions of men, from officers to cabbies, as 
 they pass on foot or in carriages the shrines and 
 churches, repeatedly bow and cross themselves 
 with the peculiar triple movement. 
 
 The multitude of churches, with clustered 
 
ST. PETERSBURG. 25 
 
 Oriental domes surmounted by metal crosses 
 apparently steadied by long guys, all richly 
 gilded, is a marked feature of the city. When 
 the atmosphere is hazy, the effect of these 
 golden globules, or bubbles, apparently hang- 
 ing in the air, is weird and striking. Every 
 church seems to have a number of bells, the 
 sound of which is very musical, and is more 
 like a continuous reverberation, slightly muffled, 
 than the sharp, quick stroke of a bell. Often it 
 is like a continuous drooning sound, rather 
 plaintive and subdued, and not unpleasing. 
 
IN ST. PETEKSBUKG. 
 
 Upon a small island in the rapid flowing Neva 
 is the ancient and celebrated Fortress of St. 
 Peter and St. Paul, begun by Peter the Great in 
 1703. It is now used as a state-prison, and 
 encloses within its encircling walls huge bar- 
 racks, the Mint, and the quaint old-time Cathe- 
 dral of St. Peter and St. Paul. This, as the 
 burial-place of all the sovereigns of Eussia 
 (excepting Peter II.) since the founding of St. 
 Petersburg, is the most peculiar and interesting 
 of all the ecclesiastical edifices. The exterior is 
 white and simple, with a tower and an exces- 
 sively slender spire, the summit of which pierces 
 the air some three hundred and two feet above 
 the ground, and is the tallest in the realm. 
 Covered with copper, richly and heavily gilded, 
 it glitters and trembles in the sunlight like a 
 golden blade or lance. In all the views over the 
 city this delicate and slender and elegant spire 
 is conspicuous and striking. 
 
 Passing just within the portal, a most singular 
 scene is presented. The whole opposite or altar 
 
THE BURIAL-PLACE OF THE CZAHS. 27 
 
 end is an unbroken and solid mass of gilded 
 carving and open-work ornamentation, over 
 which rises a dome, and a wide nave and two 
 aisles spread out before one. Against each side 
 of the great square piers that support the roof 
 and separate nave from the aisle are clustered 
 groups of captured battle-flags, the staffs resting 
 upon great golden bosses. Against each pier is 
 an altar and "ikon" all ablaze with solid and 
 brilliant gilt. Following the walls all round the 
 building are the royal mausoleums, a ghost-like 
 procession! There are thirty-one of them, all 
 exactly alike, being in form similar to perfectly 
 plain oblong boxes of pure white polished mar- 
 ble, the tops with bevelled edges, with each 
 corner ornamented with a golden national double- 
 headed eagle, and upon the slab or cover a large 
 golden cross. Each is surmounted by a black 
 iron fence with gilded ornaments, which gives to 
 the interior quite a churchyard appearance. 
 Wreaths and floral emblems lie upon them, while 
 ivy is trained over them, and some are surrounded 
 by palms and pots of blooming plants. It is all 
 so white, clean, and simple that the effect is 
 unique and harmonious. No one of less rank 
 than an emperor or empress, grand duke or duch- 
 ess, can be here interred. Here and there in the 
 aisles stand great jardinieres of palms and rare 
 flowers. The tomb of Alexander IT., who was 
 
28 IN ST. PETERSBURG. 
 
 assassinated in 1881, was covered with freshly- 
 cut flowers, while candles burned around it, and 
 in a huge glass-faced cabinet in the opposite wall 
 were a large number of silver wreaths and offer- 
 ings. Upon one tomb lay the two enormous keys 
 of conquered Polish fortresses. Just beyond, 
 between Catherine and Anne, is that of Peter the 
 Great. Near by is a curious image of Saint 
 Peter, "the exact size of Peter the Great at his 
 birth, " — 19^ by 5 \ inches! Attached to an 
 "ikon" near the tomb of Alexander I. is his 
 diamond wedding-ring! The bodies are buried 
 beneath the church pavement, and these tombs 
 that look as if they held them only rest above 
 them. It is a very odd and peculiar scene ; but 
 with the sumptuous gildings, the soft colors of 
 the faded battle-flags, the lofty roof and the sun- 
 light lying aslant these white and simple tombs, 
 it surpasses in unostentatious richness and 
 impressiveness any royal burial-place we have 
 seen. 
 
 In the immediate vicinity of the fortress is a 
 relic of the past, reverently and religiously pre- 
 served, — the cottage of Peter the Great, the first 
 house built upon the banks of the Neva, in 1703, 
 and inhabited by him while superintending the 
 laying out and building of this now gay capital- 
 It is covered or protected by a pretty square and 
 surrounded by a little garden, and is entered 
 
PETER THE GREATS HOUSE. 29 
 
 through an imposing portal with tall gilded iron 
 gates. The house is fifty -five feet long by twenty 
 wide, and is built of logs well planed, and has 
 very modern looking windows, with ornamen- 
 tal hinges, and being well painted seems like 
 everything but a genuine "antique." There are 
 but two rooms, one having several pieces of old 
 carved furniture and straight -back chairs. The 
 other room, originally the kitchen, is now fitted 
 up as a chapel, and is a dazzling mass of superbly 
 gilded, framed, and faced "ikons." Service was 
 going on, candles were burning, and the compact 
 crowd bowing continually. Near by, under 
 cover, is the boat of Peter the Great, which is 
 called "the grandfather of the Eussian navy." 
 Built before his day, and found by him under a 
 shed upon the estate of his grandfather, he caused 
 it to be launched, and by sailing it acquired a 
 nautical taste which resulted in the construction 
 of a fleet. It is tenderly cared for, and kept 
 painted exactly as in the "good old times." 
 
 Next to St. Isaac's, Kazan Cathedral is the 
 most imposing and magnificent sacred edifice in 
 St. Petersburg. Situated upon an open square, 
 facing Nevski Prospect, the principal street, it 
 presents a most majestic and noble appearance, 
 with a continuous semi-circular colonnade of four 
 rows of columns (one hundred and thirty-six in 
 all) with a huge dome rising above the facade. 
 
30 IN ST. PETERSBURG. 
 
 It is called the Eussian St. Peter's, but the 
 resemblance is not striking. It is in the form of 
 a Latin cross, a most unusual thing. Were it a 
 Bom an church the interior would be very fine, 
 while it is really, because of the gilded screens 
 and showy " ikons, " flags, and stalls for sale of 
 candles, etc., decidedly "shoppy" and unimpres- 
 sive. The long nave with two rows of columns 
 upon either side, each, a monolith of polished 
 Finland granite (fifty-six in all) with bronze 
 capitals and bases, and an arched coppered ceil- 
 ing, is superb. 
 
 The whole eastern end is filled with " ikonastas " 
 (a long screen), with railings, all of solid silver! 
 There is said to be half a ton of the metal used. 
 Then there are six huge candelabra of solid sil- 
 ver, each weighing two hundred pounds. But 
 with all the golden frame-work and paintings and 
 silver screens, etc., the effect is neither rich nor 
 handsome, but tawdry, theatrical, and bizarre. 
 The doors of the sanctuary are of solid silver, 
 with painted panels with saints, and, above, the 
 name of the Almighty in diamond letters! Upon 
 one side of the doors hangs a copy of the miracu- 
 lous Kazan picture of the Virgin, covered, save 
 the face and hands, with the finest and most deli- 
 cately wrought mat of gold, — literally covered 
 with the richest and most costly gems. The 
 value is over seventy-five thousand dollars, — 
 
KAZAN CATHEDRAL. 31 
 
 diamonds by the hundreds, pearls, emeralds, and 
 rubies without number, and in one corner a huge 
 and superb sapphire presented by a late grand 
 duchess. The gold is fairly incrusted with these 
 jewels, left in their original settings. Near by 
 is another with ten large sapphires and as many 
 good-sized emeralds. Nowhere have we seen 
 such lavish and costly votive offerings of jewels 
 as in the Eussian churches. The interior is also 
 made martial by conquered battle-flags and the 
 great keys of a large number of subjugated for- 
 tresses, hanging upon brass panels ; so that 
 visitors from Hamburg, Dresden, Leipsic, Utrecht, 
 and Eheims can see their city and fortress keys 
 displayed as trophies in a most ornamental man- 
 ner. Somehow the interior does not look 
 " churchly " nor even religious, although there is 
 no limit to cost or spectacular effect. 
 
 The Gallery or Museum of Peter the Great is 
 without exception the most unique, dainty, and 
 interesting of all the sights. The rooms devoted 
 to this fascinating exhibit are in the Winter Pal- 
 ace, but connected with and only approached from 
 the Hermitage by a covered and inclosed bridge- 
 like passage. The suite looks as if a long corri- 
 dor, overlooking a court, had been divided into a 
 succession of small rooms, each with a domed 
 ceiling and with little chandeliers. The first 
 bring that strange, gigantic character — Peter the 
 
32 IN ST. PETERSBURG. 
 
 Great — vividly before one, for they contain a 
 " collection of objects of art and industry, illus- 
 trative of his life and activity." 
 
 A versatile genius was Peter, to say the least. 
 Strange things to associate with an emperor are 
 the rude, well-used turning-lathes and tools for 
 carving! Stranger still the specimen of his 
 handiwork! His head evidently was never 
 uneasy from wearing the crown. The eight-hour 
 law would never have bound such a tireless, ener- 
 getic digger and delver in all branches of knowl- 
 edge. Mathematical instruments in great variety, 
 telescopes by the dozen, and cases of books tell of 
 mental as well as physical activity. His gigantic 
 stature is impressed upon the visitor by an effigy, 
 clad in a court dress of the period embroidered 
 by Catherine I. for her coronation fetes. His 
 heavy iron staff and sword suggest Goliath of old. 
 Numerous casts and portraits of his face before 
 and after death, several of his favorite dogs 
 (stuffed), the horse he rode in battle, medals of 
 important events during his reign, a great variety 
 of coins, portraits of his "right-hand men," and a 
 most amusing effigy of his housekeeper in Hol- 
 land fill several rooms. In strange contrast with 
 all the homely and matter-of-fact accessories of 
 his life is an elaborate and open gilt chariot 
 sometimes used by him. Russia does well to 
 hoard these recollections of a strange, busy, and 
 
MUSEUM OF PETER THE GREAT. 33 
 
 fruitful life, for she stands to-day because of his 
 foundation. 
 
 The other rooms are crowded with cabinets and 
 cases, filled with the most choice and curious 
 specimens of jewelry, silver, china, etc., all asso- 
 ciated with successive sovereigns of Eussia, — a 
 dazzling and most interesting display. One curi- 
 ous structure is called a time-piece, but is more 
 like a shrub six or eight feet high, with a superb 
 and enormous peacock, a "rooster," an owl, grass- 
 hoppers,' and a little of everything, all in brilliant 
 colors. It is now broken; but we were assured 
 that as the cock crowed the hour, the peacock 
 expanded his beautiful tail, and the owl rolled up 
 his eyes, and the grasshoppers, etc., ate the mush- 
 rooms! "A case of small boxes, left by various 
 sovereigns," gives no idea of the richness, deli- 
 cacy, and costliness of the articles contained in 
 it. One presented by a sultan of Turkey has his 
 portrait in miniature encircled by superb dia- 
 monds; another has a pathetic interest with its 
 miniature of Marie Antoinette and her children, 
 for it was given on the scaffold by Louis XVI. to 
 his valet. All are wrought with the exquisite 
 delicacy of a piece of jewelry, and are marvellous 
 to behold. Then follow beautiful historical mini- 
 atures, richly mounted in gold. A long gallery- 
 like room had countless historical curiosities, 
 knick-knacks and jewels, silver toilet-sets, rare 
 
 VOL. II. — 3 
 
34 IN ST. PETERSBURG. 
 
 Limoge enamelled dishes, carving in ivory, enor- 
 mous pearls, salvers, caskets, and inkstands, 
 silver filigree models and other articles, Japanese 
 and Chinese gold and silver ornaments, exquisite 
 crystal cups, precious stones, diamonds and rubies 
 set in strange devices of parrots, bouquets, cas- 
 kets, etc., and a superb service of tea china pre- 
 sented to somebody or other by a king of Prussia. 
 To give a better idea of the lavish profusion 
 and the intrinsic costliness of this display we 
 need only say that we counted eighty-seven superb 
 enamelled and jewelled watches, many with 
 unique and exquisite chatelaines, and sixty-nine 
 delicate and beautiful snuff-boxes! And then the 
 articles in glass, in exquisite gold filigree and in 
 ivory, twisted and wrought into quaint and beau- 
 tiful devices, are countless. Even such prosaic 
 things as pocket-books and porte-monnaies are 
 jewelled and adorned with miniatures and strange 
 devices in gold and silver, and lie there as if 
 they cost nothing. And finger-rings of all descrip- 
 tions exhaust your last " oh ! " and " ah ! " One 
 is filled with wonder that precious stones and 
 metals can be shaped in such an infinite variety 
 of forms of utility and ornament. Conspicuous 
 among the silver was the huge and magnificent 
 wine-tank, a reproduction of which graces the 
 Metropolitan Museum in New York, and one 
 looks as well as the other. 
 
MUSEUM OF PETER THE GREAT. 35 
 
 It seems just like making a catalogue, to try to 
 tell of the articles in a place like this, but only 
 in this way can an idea be given of the extreme 
 richness and intrinsic value of it. And to think 
 that a succession of comparatively small rooms 
 contains them all. Alas! the wealth that lies 
 idle and tied up in the collections of St. Peters- 
 burg and Moscow alone is enough to relieve the 
 wants of an empire. It may be narrow and small, 
 but one cannot help having some queer thoughts 
 as he looks upon the extreme contrasts of Kussian 
 life. 
 
THE HERMITAGE. 
 
 The good people (and their name is legion) who 
 so confidently affirm that there is not enough 
 to see in Russia to pay for the trouble, fatigue, 
 and expenditure of the trip, should be set 
 down for a single day in the Hermitage, the 
 magnificent repository of superb art treasures, 
 which has scarcely a peer in all Europe. Many 
 of the Continental museums contain simply "col- 
 lections," and "collections " pure and simple 
 cover a multitude of artistic sins. Anything 
 from the jaws of the past finds room in their 
 capacious maws, and some embryo Ruskin insists 
 there is beauty in every piece. But here is a 
 treasure-house, indeed, with scarce an object 
 "common or unclean " or even mediocre, — and so 
 beautifully housed! Only the accumulations of 
 the matchless Pitti in Florence fare so sumptu- 
 ously. The collections of the Louvre in Paris, 
 the Belvedere in Vienna (now in new costly 
 buildings), the Uffizi in Florence, and the 
 National Gallery in London line the walls of 
 regular museum buildings; but the Pitti and the 
 
THE GLORY OF ST. PETERSBURG. 37 
 
 Hermitage have a palace, gorgeous and rich with 
 regal purple and fine linen, all to themselves. 
 And wonderfully "at home " and "to the manner 
 born " do they seem! 
 
 Adjoining and so connected by covered passage- 
 ways with the great Winter Palace as to seem a 
 part of it, this immense structure (375 by 573 
 feet) in pure Greek style, of costly material and 
 faultless workmanship, enclosing open courts, etc., 
 stretches along and faces the Neva, in striking 
 beauty and imposing magnificence. Its grand 
 entrance is peculiar, being protected by a porch 
 with massive roof, sustained by ten huge gray 
 polished-granite figures, some twenty-two feet in 
 height. Within, one scarcely knows which way 
 to turn, — whether to mount at once the majestic 
 and imposing staircase, with its array of princely 
 and superb monolithic columns of granite and 
 its richly polished balustrades of white Carrara 
 marble, which leads to the " salons " where hang 
 the seventeen hundred paintings, gems culled 
 from a collection numbering four thousand; or to 
 make the round of the numerous rooms upon the 
 ground floor, with their rich and varied collec- 
 tions of Greek and Koman sculpture, Scythian, 
 Siberian, Oriental, and Eussian antiquities and 
 relics, and countless articles of elegance and 
 beauty. What a bewildering mass it is ! Antique 
 statues and casts, fragments of Greek and Roman 
 
38 THE HERMITAGE. 
 
 sculpture, vases and tazzas fill room after room. 
 One superb tazza, or shallow bowl, of green 
 jasper stands eight feet in height and with cir- 
 cumference of fifty feet. There is here an 
 intensely interesting collection of articles found 
 in the Cimmerian Bosphorus, which attest the 
 existence of Greek colonies along the north shore 
 of the Black Sea fully six hundred years before 
 Christ, — sarcophagi, figurines, vessels of silver, 
 gold, and glass, toilet articles of ivory, decorated 
 vases, jewelry of delicate design and exquisite 
 workmanship, and articles of male and female 
 adornment and attire. The gems and the richly 
 worked articles of jewelry, bracelets, necklaces, 
 etc., are marvellous in detail and design. A 
 library, a collection of choicest engravings, an 
 interesting lot of Pompeian trophies, drawings 
 by the old masters, and a collection of Etruscan 
 and Greek vases numbering thirteen hundred, 
 "as fine as any in the world," constitute some of 
 the attractions. There is also an invaluable array 
 of exquisite arms and armors, silver, jewels, 
 ivories, enamels, amber, and choice articles of 
 "virtu," a collection transferred intact from the 
 old palace of Tsarskoe Selo, a museum of itself. 
 One large room is filled with arms, etc., richly 
 enamelled and jewelled, presented by Eastern or 
 Oriental potentates. One long case is filled with 
 jewelled saddles, cloths, bridles, holsters, and all 
 
THE GLORY OF ST. PETERSBURG. 39 
 
 sorts of horse-trappings, presented by the Sultan 
 of Turkey in 1829 to Nicholas I. after the treaty 
 of Adrianople. One saddle-cloth of delicate lilac 
 velvet had an embroidered border, inwrought 
 with small festoons and tassels of diamonds, 
 pretty enough for a lady's bodice. The accom- 
 panying stirrups were of gold, and every possible 
 place in the set was studded with flashing dia- 
 monds, some of goodly size. The two richest 
 sets are valued at seventy-five thousand dollars. 
 These, with sword-cases and swords, ablaze with 
 brilliant and costly gems (presented to successive 
 emperors), make a dazzling and glittering array. 
 And then there are rooms with personal articles, 
 — field-glasses, silver dishes, and toilet appliances 
 taken from Napoleon in the Eussian retreats. 
 Did we see all these things ? No ! we looked at 
 them! To really see them, weeks and months 
 would be consumed; but even a look is a memory 
 of form and color, of magnificence and lavishness 
 for a lifetime! 
 
 Up and up the grand marble staircase so impos- 
 ing and palatial, and, presto ! opening before you 
 in breathless richness and magnificence are the 
 picture and art galleries. Several devoted to the 
 paintings are lofty and extensive, and are sump- 
 tuously hung with crimson satin, a beautiful 
 background for the priceless gems. Tall and 
 magnificent vases, tazzas, and enormous cande* 
 
40 THE HERMITAGE. 
 
 labra of malachite, lapis-lazuli, green and gray 
 jasper, and lovely pink rhodenite, with trimmings 
 of gorgeous ormolu, stand in all their glory of 
 form and color through the centre; while mas- 
 sive gold and antique dark wood furniture, chairs, 
 lounges, etc., and tables with great slabs of pre- 
 cious marbles, stand around the border of the 
 rooms. The collection of paintings is unusually 
 fine, and while there are some subjects one would 
 part with, yet as works of art and specimens of 
 the respective masters there is scarcely one that 
 is not a gem. The charm of it is the hanging 
 and grouping together in sumptuous apartments 
 of such a large number of each respective artist's 
 works, whereby the peculiar characteristics of 
 composition, drawing, and color are accentuated, 
 and can be better learned and judged than when, 
 as is usual, they are separated and scattered all 
 over various rooms. For instance, in the Span- 
 ish rooms eighteen Murillos hang together, and 
 his wondrous and delicious coloring makes a last- 
 ing impression. Separately, it did not seem to us 
 any were as fine as his Saint Anthony at Berlin, 
 the Saint John at Vienna, or the Madonnas at the 
 Pitti. In the centre is a lovely Eepose in Egypt, 
 or Holy Family, with a mass of melting and 
 glowing tints encircling the Divine babe. A 
 lovely Saint John recalls vividly that of the Belvi- 
 dere at Vienna, only the position of the lamb is 
 
THE GLORY OF ST. PETERSBURG. 41 
 
 different and the guileless face not so beautiful. 
 Two Assumptions quite suggest the famous 
 Immaculate Conception in the Louvre, having 
 the same golden indescribable glory about the 
 head and face. Opposite hang six or eight por- 
 traits by Velasquez, dark, rich, and mysterious 
 in hue and expression. Another large room has 
 glorious pictures by Tintoretto, Paul Veronese, 
 Domenichino, the Caraccis, Carlo Maratta, Carlo 
 Dolce, and Guido. Another has specimens of 
 the Flemish school, with numerous portraits, 
 etc., by Eubens and Van Dyck. Rubens' cele- 
 brated portrait of his second wife, that we so 
 often see in engravings as the "Chapeau de 
 Paille," hangs here. His rose-leaf pinks are 
 always a delight; his over-fat figures always a 
 disgust! But Van Dyck, — one cannot get away 
 from the indescribable charm of his portraits and 
 their marvellous coloring and life-likeness. 
 
 The Italian rooms are full of fine specimens, 
 but are meagre compared with galleries we have 
 seen. In one hangs Raphael's Madonna called 
 the "Maison d'Alba," — a circular canvas with 
 the Virgin, Infant Christ, and Saint John. It is 
 like all of Raphael's pictures, full of "sweetness 
 and light," with grace in every line. It is seri- 
 ous and impressive in expression, for the Infant 
 Christ seems already to know the meaning of the 
 cross-suggested staff, and to be imparting it to 
 
42 THE HERMITAGE. 
 
 the child Saint John; while the Virgin seems 
 also to see the prophetic vision, and to feel 
 already the sword entering her soul. One of the 
 loveliest of the Italian school is a Holy Family 
 by Andrea del Sarto, exquisite in color, and so 
 natural in position and expression. In Rem- 
 brandts the gallery is rich indeed. It is said 
 that nowhere (not even in Holland) can he be 
 studied as well as here, for every period and sub- 
 ject of his rapidly changing style is illustrated by 
 superb specimens and masterpieces. The familiar 
 and often etched portrait of John III. Sobieski 
 of Poland is here, and is a marvellous work. 
 When one stands close to it, it looks like a daub. 
 Three feet away, every line is as clear and dis- 
 tinct as a Messonier. This collection alone is 
 worth the journey. What a wonderful artist he 
 was ! It may be heresy, but it seemed to as that 
 the vigorous portraits of Rembrandt, Bal, Franz 
 Hals, and Van Dyck are worth more from an 
 artistic standpoint than all the dreamy, mystical 
 pictures of the Italian schools. 
 
 Other rooms are brilliant and fascinating, with 
 pictures of the English, Dutch, German, French, 
 and Eussian schools. The "Hobbema's," the 
 ''Cuyps," the " Wouvermans," and a wonderful 
 dog by Paul Potter are simply exquisite. No 
 wonder the collection is so fine, for it contains 
 the gems of three celebrated galleries, — the 
 
THE GLORY OF ST PETERSBURG. 43 
 
 Crozat, the Walpole, and the Malmaison of the 
 Empress Josephine, to which have been added 
 the best of the collection of Queen Hortense and 
 several titled connoisseurs, with here and there 
 some choice work picked up at the occasional 
 great sales. And as if this was not enough, there 
 is a numismatic collection, and one long noble 
 room filled with fifty or more superb cases con- 
 taining a bewildering collection of engraved gems 
 and cameos, "one of the largest in existence," all 
 appropriately and richly mounted in gold, and 
 displayed most satisfactorily. It comprises the 
 "cabinet of the Duke of Orleans purchased by 
 Catherine II., " with each gem set in dull or 
 deadened gold. There are exquisite cameos pre- 
 sented by Josephine and other sovereigns, — a 
 most bewitching display, for every one, modern 
 or antique, bears the closest inspection and 
 examination. 
 
 But hold! is not all this enough to explain 
 why some of the happiest hours of an extensive 
 European tour were passed in these enchanted 
 halls ? And when all was done, and the hour of 
 our departure drew nigh, was it a wonder that 
 we turned away from the old city for an hour's 
 stroll through them, to say a long and last 
 "good-by"? In other galleries and cities the 
 feeling that we might some day come again was 
 strong and comforting within us ; but here we felt 
 
44 THE HERMITAGE. 
 
 that never again would these mortal eyes of ours 
 loot upon and revel in this the crowning glory of 
 St. Petersburg ; and so we turned away with a 
 genuine "feeling of sadness and longing/' which 
 was wonderfully "akin to pain." 
 
PETEEHOF. 
 
 One sunny morning, taking a small handsome 
 steamer, we passed rapidly down the gradually 
 widening Neva, and came ere long into the broad 
 expanse of the Gulf of Finland, whose low-lying 
 verdant shores sparkling with occasional gleam 
 of gilded dome or roof, and whose distant islands 
 and fortifications and forest of shipping of far- 
 away Cronstadt glistening in the sunlight, 
 presented a beautiful scene. At the end of an 
 hour and a quarter we reached the wharf at 
 Peterhof. 
 
 There is here quite a village, and embosomed 
 in the trees numerous villas occupied in summer 
 by the wealthy classes 5 a very extensive park, 
 miles in extent, which our courier declared it 
 was " impossybeel " to drive through in " von 
 day; " a magnificent palace begun in 1720 by 
 Peter the Great ; and full a mile away the gleam- 
 ing roofs and towers of Alexandria, the private 
 residence of the Czar, where the court always 
 assembles at midsummer. 
 
46 PETERHOR 
 
 Taking a landau at the wharf, we drove to the 
 lower park, which skirts the shore of the inland 
 sea. Although perfectly level, it is densely and 
 skilfully planted with a great variety of decidu- 
 ous and evergreen trees, so that with the 
 long straight paths, carriage and bridle roads, 
 stretching away through the woods to immense 
 distances, forming vistas of breathless and exqui- 
 site beauty, a constant change of scene and effect 
 is given. One moment we were in a dandelion- 
 starred open field ; the next between wild cherry- 
 trees in full bloom, simulating immense snow- 
 drifts ; or by great forest trees or superb balsams, 
 with constantly the long cool vistas radiating in 
 every direction, and often terminating with a 
 statue or picturesque summer-house, or giving 
 glimpses of the old palace, with its golden domes, 
 upon a terrace sixty feet above, with curious 
 water-works and fountains. 
 
 As we drove along, entertained with the 
 outlook, we came suddenly upon Marly, the 
 celebrated and favorite resort of Peter the Great, 
 — a square villa, with double mansard roof, f ac • 
 ing an extensive oblong artificial fish-pond, and 
 overlooking at the rear a large semicircular mir- 
 ror-like pool, with three bridges, radiating like 
 the spokes of a wheel. Alas! the " spring clean- 
 ing," whitewashing, etc., that has seemed to be 
 going on everywhere since we left Venice (which 
 
THE VERSAILLES OF RUSSIA. 47 
 
 never knows such an experience) was here in full 
 blast, and consequently the pretty little villa was 
 in disorder. The furniture and square-bottom 
 high back chairs were not unlike the old Dutch 
 bits we gather with such avidity at home. The 
 little kitchen was tastefully and entirely lined 
 with blue-and- white Dutch tiles. In his bed- 
 room, which was hung with chintz, we saw his 
 bed, writing-table, etc., and a blue -and- white 
 brocade dressing-gown, presented to him by the 
 Shah of Persia. It was an attractive house, and 
 the outlook from doors and windows so lovely 
 that a body would not mind having it for the 
 summer. In some of the rooms were "ikons," 
 so small and so inconspicuously placed as easily 
 to be unnoticed. Yet any failure to at least lift 
 the hat would have given great offence and genu- 
 ine shock. As we passed out the old custodian 
 stepped to the edge of the pond, rang a bell, and 
 for our amusement fed the carp, which rose in 
 great numbers. 
 
 A little way farther on we came to the Hermi- 
 tage, a pretty little villa near the seashore, 
 surrounded by a moat, which was a favorite resort 
 of Catherine II. Here too the " spring cleaning" 
 was in progress, and confusion reigned. The 
 dining-room was in the second story, and con- 
 tained a most curious arrangement, — an oval 
 table so constructed that every dish could be 
 
48 PETERHOF. 
 
 changed and served from the room below, thus 
 avoiding the presence of an attendant who could 
 hear everything that was said, It was covered 
 with a white cloth, upon which lay fifteen plates 
 and centre-pieces. When they were to be 
 changed, a little cord in front of each one, coiv 
 necting with small bells below, was pulled. 
 Then a servant in the lower room drew the plate 
 down (which rested upon a tiny trap door) and 
 replaced it with the next course. In like manner 
 the centre-pieces were changed also. The table- 
 cloth, of course, was cut and fitted. We saw the 
 apparatus below, which was very curious and 
 amusing. The same thing can be seen in the 
 apartments of Frederick the Great at Sans Souci, 
 near Berlin. So close to the gulf shore and with 
 the charming background of the park, the little 
 villa was a lovely picture. 
 
 We drove along until we came to Montplasir, 
 a long, low, Dutch summer-house built also in 
 the reign of Peter the Great. As we stopped 
 before the inclosure and looked at the large geo- 
 metrically laid-out flower-garden, with the whole 
 length faced by a red-and-white pavilion, with 
 long low glass corridors connecting it with ser- 
 vants' houses, which lined either side, it was all 
 so stiff, quaint, and old-fashioned that it seemed 
 like a bit of Holland dropped in the heart of the 
 Russian empire. The long pavilion has a large 
 
THE VERSAILLES OF RUSSIA. 49 
 
 central apartment, the entire height of two stories, 
 — a quaint and attractive room, with a row of 
 windows and doors opening upon a charming 
 balustraded terrace looking off upon the blue and 
 flashing waters of the gulf. There were several 
 other rooms, with rolling and easy chairs, slip- 
 pers and other mementos of Peter, and some 
 lovely cups, saucers, and jars of old China, which 
 fill the wayfaring man with envy. One curious 
 Chinese room was lined with richly lacquered 
 panels and brackets, with a multitude of tiny 
 cups, saucers, vases, etc. 
 
 Leaving this little gem, we drove to the terrace 
 above the park, upon which stands the old Royal 
 Palace, begun by Peter the Great, and added to 
 by a long line of succeeding sovereigns. But the 
 original style is unchanged, and the color (a sort 
 of pinkish salmon with white trimmings) the 
 same as in his day. The palace is a long, appar- 
 ently two-story and basement structure, with a 
 chapel at either end. One of them has a large 
 central and four small Oriental domes and roof of 
 solid silver, the domes and ornaments being heav- 
 ily gilded. It is dazzling and gorgeous, to say 
 the least. But a more charming interior we 
 have rarely seen. We passed upstairs, and were 
 ushered into a great square central room, the 
 entire walls of which were covered with a patch- 
 work of painted heads or portraits (three hun- 
 
 VOL. II. — 4 
 
50 PETERHOF. 
 
 dred and sixty) of various sizes, said to illustrate 
 the costumes and styles of beauty of some fifty 
 of the provinces of Kussia, all painted for 
 Catherine II. by one artist. The effect was very 
 odd, although many were very beautiful. The 
 collection made for her is said to number eight 
 hundred and sixty -three; and the variety of 
 positions, expressions, and costumes is certainly 
 very remarkable. 
 
 From this we walked leisurely through some 
 thirty apartments, ten or twelve of which in a 
 row were drawing or reception rooms of medium 
 and comfortable size, with walls hung with beau- 
 tiful cream-white, crimson, pale-blue, yellow, 
 and green brocaded satin and delicate tinted and 
 embroidered china silks. The finishings of the 
 room, such as door-frames, etc., were flamboyant 
 with great spreading ornaments, richly gilded, 
 which we would call "steamboaty," but which 
 added much to the gorgeous and sumptuous effect. 
 All the Russian palaces seem a strange combina- 
 tion of refinement and semi-barbarism in their 
 fittings and ornamentation. The furniture here 
 stood with droll precision in a straight row 
 around the rooms, and was of gold, enamel, or 
 rich dark woods. In several of them hung full- 
 length portraits of various maids of honor, some 
 dancing or playing upon instruments, but all in 
 a merry laughing mood, and exceedingly dainty 
 
THE VERSAILLES OF RUSSIA. 51 
 
 and pretty. All through the rooms were scat- 
 tered lavishly many choice bits of old furniture, 
 — exquisite mantels, with mirror frames all of 
 painted porcelain as dainty as a vase, tall and 
 low clocks, beautiful tapestries, magnificent 
 tazzas of porcelain, malachite, and rich marbles, 
 paintings, and rare bric-a-brac. The truth is, 
 one is dazed and bewildered by the unlimited 
 expenditure in the Russian palaces. 
 
 Parallel with these rooms are several suites 
 of sleeping, dressing, and sitting rooms, only 
 used when royal visitors are entertained. They 
 are exquisitely furnished, and with their satin 
 and cretonne-covered walls, rich carpetings, 
 draperies, and every conceivable decorative and 
 toilet articles, are marvels of beauty and refine- 
 ment. The sleeping-room, occupied two years ago 
 by the present Emperor William of Germany, 
 was profusely hung with white brocade satin, 
 and had a superb cheval glass with porcelain 
 frame, delicately painted, with toilet parapher- 
 nalia to correspond. Their suites were cozy and 
 "liveable," and possessed an air of refinement 
 not found in the larger ones. All commanded 
 lovely outlooks upon the surrounding park. 
 
 Eeturning to the portrait-room, we passed into 
 the grand state apartments, all two stories in 
 height, and fairly riotous with costly and mag- 
 nificent but not always tasteful ornamentation. 
 
52 PETERHOF. 
 
 They seem so fond of gold, for it is used literally 
 by the rod! But that was a peculiarity of the 
 age in which the palace was built. Perhaps 
 nowadays just as much gold would be used, 
 but certainly in a more refined and less bizarre 
 method. A large concert-room was lined with 
 white relievos upon delicately tinted grounds. 
 Ante-rooms were in white and gold; and a superb 
 ball-room was a blaze of gold and dazzle of 
 white, enriched by crimson draperies. But the 
 royal banqueting-hall was ornamentation and 
 gold "run mad." Everywhere upon the walls 
 of the immense apartment were flowing orna- 
 ments, running like a wild growth, all richly 
 gilded, and having often a mirror for a back- 
 ground. And yet with all this fabulous expendi- 
 ture there was no real beauty. From the central 
 window a lovely vista is obtained through the 
 woods, clear out to the sea, beginning with a 
 succession of terraces profusely ornamented with 
 gilded statues, fountains, cascades, and flower- 
 borders, beyond which is a watercourse like a 
 canal, with graceful marble-basined fountains at 
 intervals upon either side. It has a most festive 
 and fairy-like appearance. 
 
 We drove for an hour in the park in the rear 
 of the palace, passing at first numerous attendant 
 buildings, in one of which like an extensive 
 china warehouse was the china, etc., used at 
 
THE VERSAILLES OF RUSSIA. 53 
 
 royal balls and banquets, arranged upon shelves 
 to the ceiling, and in each window a tall epergne, 
 all richly decorated. We came to a little lake, 
 and crossing by a raft to a pretty island, visited 
 a sort of classic and Pompeian tea-house. It 
 was daintiness itself, with its profusion of small 
 bronzes, pretty interior court, with its fountain 
 and little porches and terraces where one could 
 sit and dream for hours, with the loveliest out- 
 look imaginable in every direction, over pretty 
 waters and shady park. Upon this island is an 
 oak raised from an acorn from "George Wash- 
 ington's home," which the plate attached says 
 "was presented to Nicholas I., 1838, by George 
 Sumner" (a brother of Charles). W"e took off 
 our hats; for this memento of our immortal 
 Washington, way off in this far-away land, was 
 thrilling. The park seemed with its drives, its 
 hills and dales, its variety of buildings, well- 
 nigh endless. As far as we could see all was 
 "park," and beyond it were the blue waters, 
 over which, somewhat wearied with splendor, 
 we passed rapidly at the close of the day to St. 
 Petersburg. 
 
TSAKSKOE SELO. 
 
 "What under the sun is Tsarskoe Selo?" says 
 one. And no wonder, for without a knowledge 
 of Russ the words give no more suggestion of 
 their meaning ("the Czar's village") than their 
 pronunciation (" Sarko Sel-low ") does of the 
 name itself. Yet it is not the Czar's village 
 that one goes out on a railway journey of an hour 
 from St. Petersburg "for to see/' but the czar's 
 favorite summer palace. He possesses the im- 
 mense Winter Palace, which took us two hours 
 to walk through ; lovely Peterhof with its large 
 and smaller residences ; Tsarskoe Selo with its 
 wilderness of apartments, and Gatchina with its 
 six hundred rooms, where he resides now most 
 of the time; to say nothing of smaller palaces, 
 Moscow, etc., and the year is only twelve months 
 long. A man, however, is not to be blamed for 
 his inheritance. It was a pleasant journey in 
 cars quite like our own American conveyances. 
 We had a " Commissionaire " of course ; one 
 cannot get along with the jaw-breaking language 
 and eye-bewildering alphabet of Russia without 
 
TSARSKOE SELO. 55 
 
 such a companion. We chanced to have a man 
 who for years was attached to the American 
 legation, a bright, gentlemanly fellow. We sug- 
 gested his holding the tickets lest we should 
 lose them. "I navare lose any think," he replied, 
 "except — my first wife; and I feel so bad." 
 
 It was a good ten minutes' drive from the 
 station to the old palace, but through wide hand- 
 some streets lined with tasteful and pretty villas 
 and cottages, the summer residences of the wealthy 
 classes of St. Petersburg. They were so won- 
 derfully like our seaside resorts or pretty country 
 towns that we did not feel far away. Some idea 
 of the extent and importance of the Eoyal pos- 
 session can be gained from the fact that the park 
 is some eighteen miles in circumference, with 
 woods of larch and birch, handsome gateways, 
 and immediately around the palaces superb and 
 lovely gardens. Originally a zoological garden, 
 etc., of the marvellous Peter the Great, it became 
 a royal residence in time of Catherine L, but 
 was brought to its present magnificence through 
 the care of that man in draperies, Catherine II. 
 
 We drove directly to the old palace, little 
 dreaming of the surprise and magnificence that 
 awaited us ; for compared with the apartments 
 of this, everything we have seen in Europe must 
 "pale its ineffectual fires." The structure of 
 white, with green-bronze gilt ornaments, stretches 
 
56 TSARSKOE SELO. 
 
 away with a facade of seven hundred and eighty 
 feet, broken by porches and slight projections, 
 upheld by enormous caryatides or "hermes." 
 Originally every capital, base, and ornament 
 was covered with solid gold. The state apart- 
 ments are in a straight line along the front of 
 the palace, so that one stands at either end, 
 and looks through a vista of golden glittering 
 doorways a distance of seven hundred and eighty 
 feet. The private rooms are in parallel suites, 
 but overlook the forests and park. One's supply 
 of adjectives and ejaculations fairly gives out, 
 as room after room, all ablaze with unlimited 
 gold and colors and superb painted ceilings, are 
 visited. The furniture too is all so very beauti- 
 ful, the old Chinese and modern porcelains so 
 rare and choice, and the tables, etc., of priceless 
 lapis-lazuli and malachite so wonderful! Every- 
 thing is as fresh and clean as if the czar was 
 expected in a few hours. Nowhere have we seen 
 such profusion of odd and beautiful furniture, 
 or such a really choice collection of porcelain; 
 and we had time enough to see everything 
 fully, — a rare experience. 
 
 We began with the chapel at one end, — an 
 immense and lofty affair, the walls of which 
 were entirely in dark blue, with profusion of 
 gilded ornaments. We saw it from the room 
 in the second story, where the emperor and 
 
TSARSKOE SELO. 57 
 
 empress stand, which overlooks the whole inte- 
 rior. Then we passed slowly through lovely 
 rooms, large and small, — boudoirs, etc., with 
 hangings of cretonne, Japanese silk, and damasks ; 
 a dining-room with pale green stucco; a recep- 
 tion-room with hangings of white satin and gold, 
 paintings, malachite ornaments, and huge porce- 
 lain stoves reaching to the lofty ceiling; one 
 with imitation tortoise-shell panels, and another 
 in silver and blue; one pure white, with immense 
 buffets laden with a dozen peerless Chinese jars 
 and plaques, and another white and gold with 
 choicest porcelains, and others with columns of 
 gold, rich wood finishings, superb Russian vases, 
 all bewildering in size, decorations, costly bronz* 
 ings, and priceless bric-a-brac. 
 
 Three rooms, however, surpass all others we 
 have ever seen. One is an immense apartment, 
 lofty and square, with side walls covered with 
 thin sheets of " amber " in a sort of crazy-quilt 
 or hit-or-miss pattern, producing a soft, mot- 
 tled, and pleasing appearance. Upon this at 
 regular intervals are fitted engraved metal mould- 
 ings, forming panels. The amber is so fitted 
 over these that the glitter of the silver and the 
 pattern of the design show through. The cor- 
 ners are finished with exquisite ornaments carved 
 out of different shades of amber as finely as if 
 for personal adornment. Large Florentine mosaic 
 
58 TSARSKOE SELO. 
 
 pictures are fitted in these panels. Mouldings, 
 cornices, and profuse ornaments about the room, 
 are all richly carved and polished. The Eussian 
 Arms appear in the wainscoting, while above 
 the cornice is a frieze of mottled effect, upon 
 which are a large number of golden candle- 
 brackets. In each window stands a large glass 
 cabinet filled with boxes, etc., of various colored 
 and wrought amber. Slender mirrors are in- 
 serted at intervals in the walls. The effect is 
 very lovely and pleasing, for the combined tints 
 are so mellow and delicious. The amber was 
 presented by Frederick the Great of Prussia to 
 Catherine II., and very appropriately in the 
 centre of the room stands a miniature model of 
 the Berlin statue, etc., of Frederick. 
 
 Another is the famous "Lapis-lazuli" room, 
 which is, without exception, the most superb 
 and magnificent apartment we have seen any- 
 where. The stone is found in Russia, and never 
 in large pieces, and is very costly. The color 
 is so exquisite one never tires of it, as of mala- 
 chite. It varies in tints, some being light, but 
 generally it is of a rich deep-blue, with flecks 
 and streaks of lighter hue and of gold. It is of 
 course incrusted work, the stone being sawed 
 in very thin slices and applied to walls, slabs, 
 etc. The room is oblong, and of beautiful pro- 
 portions. Cornice, frieze, and wainscot, etc., are 
 
TSARSKOE SELO. 59 
 
 all of bands of the precious stone in alternate 
 shades, held in place by narrow mouldings of 
 gold. In two corners are chimneys, with man- 
 telpieces and mirror frames, all of the lovely 
 stone with delicate ormolu trimmings. At each 
 end, skilfully blended with the whole design, 
 are cherubs in white marble upholding ormolu 
 candelabra, — a combination of color, gold, glass, 
 and marble indescribably charming and refined. 
 The doors are like polished rosewood, inlaid 
 with mother-of-pearl; while the floor is in a 
 rich floriated mosaic of ebony and other costly 
 woods, with mother-of-pearl flowers and rosettes. 
 Pendant from the centre of the ceiling is an 
 immense chandelier, entirely of delicately, ex- 
 quisitely wrought ormolu and lapis-lazuli. It 
 hangs a great graceful mass of lovely blue and 
 gold, as if floating in the air, — a marvel of 
 design and workmanship. Unlike most palatial 
 halls, the furniture stood out in groups all over 
 the room, with a variety of coverings and tables 
 of ormolu and lapis-lazuli to carry the tone 
 through all. Nothing could be more rich, refined, 
 and exquisite than the general air and expres- 
 sion of this room, for it was a harmony, a 
 symphony in color, a triumph of design, and 
 an "apotheosis" of Kussia's choicest mineral 
 production. 
 
 The other room was the Chinese Drawing- 
 
60 TSARSKOE SELO. 
 
 room, — a very long two-storied hall-like apart- 
 ment, with side Avails covered with panels of 
 gayly decorated lacquer, all fitly joined together 
 by scarlet, gold, and black mouldings. Small 
 lacquered tables, chairs, screens, and pedestals, 
 with enormous jars and lovely etageres covered 
 with vases, etc., fill the room. Everywhere 
 there is some priceless jar or plaque ; and 
 although it is a mass of glossy black, fiery 
 scarlet, and gold, and of floral and figure decora- 
 tion, it is harmonious and pleasing. 
 
 A gorgeous ball-room one hundred and eighty 
 feet long, a blaze of solid gold, crystal chande- 
 liers for forty-eight hundred candles, mirrors, 
 and rich draperies, and several other large 
 rooms, beautifully decorated with central rows 
 of jasper, malachite, and other precious Russian 
 stones, vases, and tazzas, completed the list. 
 In one was a sort of toboggan slide, of richly 
 polished wood, with prettily railed stairway to 
 one side. Seated upon velvet rug-like cushions, 
 one could slide quietly some thirty to fifty feet. 
 
 We were extremely fortunate in seeing the 
 private rooms parallel with these, as they are not 
 often shown. There were bedrooms, boudoirs, 
 and dressing-rooms in suites, hung in white satin 
 and gold, Japanese embroidered silks and lovely 
 brocades, with exquisite furniture, dainty knick- 
 knacks, and a few fine pictures. Those of Alex- 
 
TSARSKOE SELO. 61 
 
 ander L, who died in the north in a peasant's 
 cottage, look as if just vacated; for his boots 
 and slippers stand behind his iron camp bed- 
 stead, his cap lies on a chair, his toilet articles 
 are spread out upon a dressing-table, and his 
 shaving-glass and handkerchief lie near by. All 
 these private rooms are charming in color, deco- 
 rations, and furnishings, and look as if they 
 could be lived in. 
 
 At the extreme end of the palace is a dainty 
 suite of small rooms, used by the late empress, 
 for years an invalid. From these one is ushered 
 upon an elevated terrace overlooking a beautiful 
 undulating part of the park, in English style, 
 with great masses of shrubbery here and there 
 upon a lovely lake. It was tranquillizing and 
 restful. Upon this terrace was a "tea-house' 7 
 with small rooms at either end and a long one 
 between, with exquisite ceiling and rows of 
 marble columns. One of the small rooms was 
 lined with polished red marble with delicate 
 trimmings of ormolu, all finished as finely and 
 minutely as a clock or set of mantel ornaments. 
 Beyond this, also upon the terrace, was a long 
 classic building (four hundred and twenty feet), 
 — a summer banqueting-hall surrounded by a 
 colonnade of marble columns, with between them 
 fine bronze replicas of celebrated busts and statu- 
 ary. The colonnade was simply charming, for 
 
62 TSARSKOE SELO. 
 
 it was lifted high above and looked off upon 
 verdant knolls and quiet waters. No wonder 
 this end of the palace, this terrace and tea- 
 house, have been the favorite resting-places of 
 successive empresses. 
 
 We went downstairs and passed through the 
 study, library, uniform and military trophy- 
 rooms of the late emperor Alexander II. They 
 were full of arms, miniature models of soldiers, 
 etc. War, war, everywhere! But some rooms 
 were full of photographs of his family. The 
 writing-materials, knick-knacks, etc., were all 
 placed as naturally as if just left. We passed 
 through some fifty to sixty rooms, many of which 
 were wild, riotous, and barbaric in glitter, gor- 
 geousness, and lavish expenditure, and we were 
 tired! After driving for some five or ten 
 minutes, we walked through the New Palace, the 
 home of the Crown Prince. The rooms are 
 large and handsome, but everything as modern 
 as at one of our palatial hotels. The wind came 
 up keen and cold, and a short drive in the park, 
 with its multitude of lovely vistas, flowering 
 shrubs, etc., quite satisfied us, and we gladly 
 turned our faces toward St. Petersburg again. 
 
Russian "Cabby. 
 
A CHANGE OF BASE. 
 
 All tourists are subject to periodical attacks 
 of economy. Blessed is he who, acting under 
 this hallucination, makes no exasperating or 
 egregious mistakes. You can go from St. Peters- 
 burg to Moscow in fourteen or eighteen hours, as 
 you like. By taking the slower train we found 
 we would have the same cars, more hours of 
 daylight on the road, see more of the country, 
 and save our money. And so we left at half- 
 past three one afternoon, and at 9.30 the next 
 morning rolled into "Holy Moscow." 
 
 The Nicholas Bailway is a fine one, built by 
 Winans, of Baltimore, for the Emperor Nicholas, 
 at an enormous cost. It is a standard joke that 
 some prominent Englishman asked a royal visitor 
 if he had seen the old contract for the Nicholas 
 Kailway; for if not, he had missed the greatest 
 curiosity in Russia. It brought Winans a for- 
 tune, for every proviso piled on additional dol- 
 lars; but Bussia as a result has a first-class 
 railway. The survey was shown the emperor. 
 He asked, "Why build so long and irregular a 
 
64 A CHANGE OF BASE. 
 
 road ?" They replied, "Because of the towns." 
 He called for a map, and with a rule drew a 
 straight line from St. Petersburg to Moscow, 
 saying, "There is the survey." "But what will 
 become of the towns? " they asked. "The towns 
 may come to the railway," he said; for fighting 
 old emperor that he was, like all the rest of 
 them, he cared only for " rapid transit " for his 
 troops in case of need. 
 
 We had a very handsome "sleeper," much 
 more comfortable than the ones from Berlin. 
 There was little to see. Miles and miles of 
 cultivated and half-cleared level land, with 
 rarely anything but slight undulations, but all 
 so green and fresh; acres of balsams and birches 
 and pretty linemen's houses all the way. The 
 station-houses were unusually large and hand- 
 some, with pretty gardens and fine dining-rooms 
 and restaurants. Frequently when the train 
 stopped, boys would come with great glasses or 
 tumblers of tea, and biscuits. 
 
 You will never know what tea is until you go 
 to Russia. The Russians seem as inveterate 
 tea-drinkers as the English, but theirs is a 
 very different article. Everywhere is seen the 
 "Samovar," which insures boiling water, which 
 is poured over the tea, and immediately it is 
 ready. Then you have none of the dark, acrid, 
 bitter decoction which in nine places out of ten 
 
ON TO MOSCOW. 65 
 
 in Europe is served under this name, but a clear, 
 brilliant, amber liquid, fragrant and enticing, 
 "fit for the Gods." They contend also that the 
 tea., having been brought overland, is more deli- 
 cate in flavor, and that the long sea-voyage and 
 confinement in clammy holds of vessels destroy 
 the aroma. Be this as it may, it is a fact that 
 at hotels, cafes, and along the railroads the 
 beverage is uniformly delicious, while elsewhere 
 it is rarely palatable. Everywhere the people 
 may be seen drinking it, when not pulling at 
 vodka, the vile native whiskey. They say that 
 when the Apostles were sent out without any- 
 thing, the one who was a Eussian came back and 
 asked if he could not take a little tea. 
 
 As we had arranged to visit for a few days 
 in the country an English friend who had resided 
 in Russia some thirty years or more, we did not 
 stop in Moscow, but went immediately to another 
 station a few blocks awa} r . As we drew near, 
 there was evidently "something in the air." A 
 great crowd was assembled, and through a long 
 space kept open were laid beautiful scarlet car- 
 pets, from the curb to within the entrance. 
 "Heigh ho!" we said, "we are going to see the 
 czar!" A few moments later an open carriage 
 drew up, with two gentlemen in uniform, and 
 then one with two ladies; and we learned that it 
 was the Grand Duke Sergius, brother of the czar 
 
 VOL. II. — 5 
 
66 A CHANGE OF BASE. 
 
 and governor of Moscow, and his retinue "going 
 up to the temple/' or rather the monastery of 
 Troitsa some fifty miles away, to pray! Gen- 
 tlemen in evening dress and military uniform 
 were moving quickly about. We were permitted 
 to stand by a window overlooking the platform 
 and train. Along the length of the platform 
 was laid a pale-blue carpet, dainty enough for 
 a boudoir. It was impossible to look at this 
 pageant, — all these scarlet and blue covered 
 walks, this sumptuous train, this army of gold- 
 laced and uniformed officials hurrying to and 
 fro, this gayly-attired court going up to the 
 temple to pray, — and not think of the command, 
 " When thou prayest enter into thy closet," and 
 of the poor fellow who scarcely dared to lift his 
 eyes with his "God be merciful to me a sinner! " 
 For an hour after leaving, we passed through 
 a lovely country, almost every station showing 
 a number of pretty summer villas. Richly 
 dressed ladies and children awaited the trains, 
 — the ladies invariably without bonnets, but 
 often with handsome lace scarfs and elegant 
 parasols. We left the train at Pushkin, between 
 twenty and thirty miles from Moscow. A car- 
 riage awaited us, and we drove by a perfectly 
 smooth road across a beautifully undulating 
 country highly cultivated, a stretch of living 
 green, a distance of sixteen miles. Away over 
 
ON TO MOSCOW. 67 
 
 a sweep of miles we would see a gold-crested 
 dome or tower, or the roofs and tall chimneys 
 of manufactories, or the gleam of villages. 
 
 Our friend was in charge of a large cotton - 
 mill belonging to a company. The grounds 
 were extensive, with a fine villa and garden for 
 the "Master," residences for the physician and 
 overseer, a hospital, a school for five hundred 
 children, large buildings for employees, shops, 
 and a beautiful Greek church. Some fifteen 
 hundred hands were employed, and the mills 
 were fine and extensive. As we stood by the 
 bales of American cotton we felt we were citi- 
 zens of no mean country. It seemed strange 
 that this cotton from New Orleans should be 
 carded and cleaned, twisted and reeled, and 
 finally be turned out in sheetings and cotton 
 cloth way off here in Russia. Across the road 
 from the company's enclosure is a beautiful 
 pine forest, with wide winding paths and seats 
 and summer-houses, a most restful and lovely 
 retreat. The trees are very straight and tall, 
 and the bark takes some way from the ground 
 a very reddish, metallic tint, which is exquisite 
 as the sunlight slants through the green thickets. 
 The ground is cleared of underbrush, and is very 
 park-like. All through the turf are thousands 
 of our little lilies of the valley growing wild; 
 small wild-flowers dot the grass all along the 
 public highways; large and tall dandelions, 
 
68 A CHANGE OF BASE. 
 
 yellow anemones, Johnny-jump-ups, violets, but- 
 tercups, and a host of tiny blue, white, and 
 purple flowers are everywhere. In the lovely 
 pine-woods the nightingales whistle and the 
 cuckoo sings. Along the fields occasionally a 
 lark soars away, and gray crows (with gray 
 bodies and black wings) sing the same delight- 
 ful monotone as with us. 
 
 On Sunday afternoon we visited a serf -village 
 in the neighborhood. It was very picturesque, 
 with its green-sward streets, and quaint log-houses 
 with thatched roofs; but like the Swiss chalets 
 at Andermatt "distance lends enchantment to 
 the view." The serfs own the land their houses 
 are built upon, and have also allotted to them 
 a certain amount to cultivate ; but somehow there 
 does not seem much development or future for 
 them. They grow wheat and buckwheat, but 
 use the most comical and primitive ploughs and 
 tools. What is worse, they do not want any of 
 the modern inventions. They are more to be 
 pitied than our southern colored population, for 
 literally nothing is done to elevate, educate, or 
 develop them. They look so stupid and numb. 
 
 We went into two of the houses, — one of 
 the best, the other of the poorest. The latter 
 was dreadful! One corner of the structure was 
 partitioned off in two rooms for the human, and 
 the rest given up to the domestic, creatures. In 
 the stalls the horses and cattle live in the midst 
 
ON TO MOSCOW. 69 
 
 of their excrements, which are never cleaned out 
 except upon a certain day in the year! The 
 rooms had a bench all round, a table, and a few 
 rude chairs. One bench or bed was high up 
 against the oven; another was on top of it; and 
 still another was like a shelf, close to the ceiling. 
 The other house was large, and divided into 
 summer and winter apartments, with a bed alcove 
 neatly curtained, and the windows draped, and 
 the whole interior furnished with planed boards, 
 and having rude prints and showy gilt "ikons," 
 hanging profusely around. 
 
 They do not work on Sundays, so all the vil- 
 lagers were standing in picturesque groups about 
 the houses. They are very fond of red, and wear 
 very comical waists and full-skirted coats of 
 skins, with fur trimming inside! About forty 
 children followed us around, and probably were 
 as much entertained as we were. The men all 
 wear their hair alike, having it cut exactly as 
 if a bowl was fitted on the head and the line of 
 edge followed by shears. 
 
 These characteristic sights are intensely inter- 
 esting, but equally painful. One cannot but feel 
 that a fearful and almost difficult problem is to 
 be solved and worked out in Russia. And, 
 alas! they need that which they are the least 
 likely to receive, — education, enlightenment, 
 and uplifting! 
 
HOLY MOSCOW. 
 
 In visiting Russia, one naturally looks for the 
 picturesque, novel, and characteristic, and so 
 may in a certain sense be disappointed in St. 
 Petersburg, because, while beautiful, it is so 
 regular and modern. But in Moscow, the "Holy 
 City " of the Greek Church, no such emotion or 
 wave of trouble rolls across the traveller's 
 peaceful breast. As the waves of the sea surge 
 round and beat against a great solitary rock, 
 so these undulations, like great waves, rise and 
 fall round the grand central group of gilded 
 domes and stately Ivan tower, within the high- 
 encircling and battlemented walls of the renowned 
 Kremlin. 
 
 As a sight Moscow is unique. Its streets are 
 narrow and crooked, opening frequently into 
 small irregular plazas. The demolition of two 
 encircling lines of fortifications makes possible, 
 as in several of the large European capitals, 
 the opening of fine wide boulevards. But the 
 universal pavement is the exasperating, mad- 
 dening cobble-stone; and the Jehus drive the 
 
 
HOLY MOSCOW. 71 
 
 little low-wheeled vehicles "like all possessed," 
 until every bone and nerve cry out for vengeance. 
 Again and again have fire and sword devas- 
 tated it; and in the rebuilding, palaces jostle 
 against hovels, and a magnificent mansion with 
 Corinthian colonnades may be close to the white- 
 washed house of a common citizen. Hence a 
 continual surprise is afforded as one drives 
 through the streets, or standing upon some 
 elevation "views the prospect o'er." Some four 
 hundred churches and chapels, with gayly col- 
 ored and profusely gilded domes and towers, 
 give to every outlook a most picturesque feature. 
 The river Moskva bends through the city, and 
 from the bridges which span it some of the most 
 pleasing views are obtained. One is kept upon 
 the qui vive constantly in the streets, between 
 the droll-looking people from the provinces, the 
 drosky drivers who implore constantly "please 
 to ride," and the numerous chapels. 
 
 Close to the Kremlin is a large double passage- 
 way city-gate (called the " Resurrection ") to the 
 Kitai Gorod, or Chinese city. It is a large 
 building, with two carriageways, principally 
 interesting because between them upon the city 
 side is the most characteristic sight of the place, 
 — a small square one-story chapel, which shel- 
 ters a miraculous and much revered "ikon," 
 called the "Iberian Mother of God," brought 
 
72 HOLY MOSCOW. 
 
 from Mt. Athos in 1648. It is felt to possess 
 wonderful powers, and is carried (at large ex- 
 pense, of course) to the bedside of the sick, to 
 the opening of new houses, and to w r edding 
 festivities. The little chapel is covered with 
 gold, and has numerous beautiful hanging lamps 
 and candelabra. Over the head of the Virgin 
 (a dark and hideous face) is a magnificent crown 
 of diamonds, etc., and a net of large pearls. 
 Enormous brooches and other pieces of rich 
 jewelry of fabulous worth are fastened here and 
 there. The revenue is very large, part of it 
 forming the stipend of the Metropolitan, or 
 Bishop of Moscow. When the emperor visits 
 the city he always drives first to this shrine 
 and pays his devotions. It is crowded at all 
 hours. Outside, a long line of nuns in black 
 hold out flat cloth-covered square plates, em- 
 broidered with a cross, for contributions. It is 
 curious to watch the crowd of droskies, carriages, 
 and pedestrians, for drivers and all take off their 
 hats and bow and cross themselves, at least three 
 times. When a service is conducted before a 
 picture, repeated obeisance made to it, and at 
 the close the multitude are encouraged to kneel 
 before and kiss it, it can be called by no other 
 name than idolatry. With this view of it, the 
 evident sincerity and unmistakable devotion of 
 the people is pitiable, for in Moscow so many 
 
HOLY MOSCOW. 73 
 
 pilgrims, the poorest and most ignorant from 
 the rural districts, are seen, all intent upon 
 paying devotions and seeing the sacred places 
 of their holy city. 
 
 One afternoon we drove to the Sparrow Hills, 
 a thickly wooded ridge across the river, two or 
 three miles to the southwest of the city, which 
 command a magnificent view. From this point 
 Napoleon and his disheartened and well-nigh 
 exhausted legions first looked upon Holy Moscow, 
 — a glittering city literally at their feet, for it 
 was evacuated by the Eussians without a blow 
 being struck in its defence. But the most thrill- 
 ing sacrifice of modern history occurred as he 
 entered the Kremlin the next day, for the city 
 was fired in eleven different places by the people. 
 As we drove across the river bridge we had the 
 most comprehensive and picturesque view of 
 the Kremlin obtainable, for all others are so 
 fragmentary. 
 
 The Kremlin is to Moscow what the Acropolis 
 is to Athens. It burst upon us like a revela- 
 tion. Above the verdure and foliage of the 
 Alexander gardens at the base of the Kremlin 
 hill rose the red flower-like battlement of the 
 walls, broken by varied and picturesque towers 
 at frequent intervals, and beyond, the great 
 regular salmon-colored pile of the treasury and 
 the royal palace with its crown and crest of 
 
74 HOLY MOSCOW. 
 
 gold; while still farther away, like globules or 
 bubbles floating in the air, rose the numerous 
 gilded clustered domes of the Ascension and 
 Assumption cathedrals and the lofty stately 
 tower of Ivan. Glistening and flashing in the 
 full blaze of the afternoon sun it was a sugges- 
 tive, Oriental, and poetical picture. We were 
 far enough away to make us unconscious of the 
 material. Had it all been of richest marbles 
 and precious stones it could not have been more 
 exquisite in color, more picturesque in grouping, 
 or more graceful in outline. It was a scene that 
 set one dreaming and seeing some things that 
 are invisible. These churches and buildings 
 that look so beautiful in paintings and photo- 
 graphs need to be seen from a distance, for they 
 are white, blue, green, and red washed, and 
 while picturesque and charming in general effect 
 are cheap and tawdry in detail. Yet in the haze 
 they are tremulous with beauty, and in the broad 
 sunlight they are often transfigured. 
 
 The drive took us past several very fine and 
 palatial looking hospitals, homes, and summer 
 residences of Moscow merchants, churches with 
 green and red, pale-blue and cream and great 
 golden domes, and gave us through the trees 
 occasional pretty glimpses of the old city. We 
 stopped at a beautiful public park, — Neskutchy, 
 also called Sans Souci. A long straight avenue 
 
HOLY MOSCOW. 75 
 
 with four rows of trees leads to the entrance 
 of the grounds, which are laid out about as any 
 park or country place is with us, only they 
 cannot keep the grass as a lawn. The grounds 
 rolled beautifully, and were charmingly diversi- 
 fied and planted most effectively. The bank 
 sloped gradually to the river ; wild-flowers of 
 crimson hue, bells of purple tint, and blossoms 
 of white and yellow dotted the grassy bank, and 
 walks around in every direction, giving repeated 
 and charming vistas and pretty glimpses of the 
 little river and the distant country through the 
 trees. We drove on, past the Alexandrina Palace 
 and park, until we came to a little group of Rus- 
 sian log and fancifully decorated houses and a 
 gay cafe. Leaving the carriage we passed 
 through the cafe to a terrace in the rear, all 
 unconscious of what joys awaited us. The cafe 
 and its terrace stand upon the crest of the ridge 
 of the Sparrow Hills. The bank drops suddenly 
 away. Beneath us, pleasant park-like gardens, 
 with fine forest-trees and shady walks, stretch 
 away to the river's edge, which bends like a 
 huge horseshoe in either direction out of sight. 
 Stretched out directly before us, in this hoop- 
 like enclosure of the river, was a richly culti- 
 vated plain dotted with little picturesque huts 
 and farm-houses and masses of trees, with not a 
 rod but was beautiful. Beyond lay the long level 
 
76 HOLY MOSCOW. 
 
 mass of white houses, buried in verdure, broken 
 by innumerable towers and domes, brilliant with 
 touch of carmine, blue, and green, and flashing 
 with gold of the ancient city of Holy Moscow. 
 
 We sat there that warm sunny afternoon in a 
 strange thrill of reverence and delight we could 
 neither analyze nor understand. All we could 
 hear was, " And I, John, saw the holy city, new 
 Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, 
 prepared as a bride adorned for her husband." 
 And yet it was only an ancient city, a kingdom 
 of this world basking and flashing in the glo- 
 rious slanting rays of an afternoon sun. Only 
 one other scene has ever so affected us, and that 
 was the view of the silver roofs of Quebec glit- 
 tering in the sunlight, as seen from Mont- 
 morency. That, lifted upon the great rock, was 
 like the heavenly city of the Hebrew singers. 
 This was like a dream, a vision, — a something 
 seen but well-nigh unattainable. Almost directly 
 before us, in the mass of the city, rose stately 
 and grand the new church of St. Saviour, built 
 to commemorate the deliverance from the French. 
 Its great dome and four attendant golden-tipped 
 cupolas flashed as if set with huge brilliants. 
 It quite hid the palace, etc., of the more distant 
 Kremlin, but not the tall Ivan tower, which 
 with its miniature dome of gold glowed like a 
 beacon or lighthouse above the walls and smaller 
 
HOLY MOSCOW. 77 
 
 domes of burnished gold. Nearer us was a forti- 
 fied monastery, — "the girls' field/' — besieged 
 by Napoleon, with quaint bottle-like tower in 
 red and white, with golden tip, and over its 
 little church four pale miniature domes, sur- 
 rounding a golden one. To our right, in the 
 trees, almost obscured, gleamed the white walls 
 of the Alexandrina Palace, while the densely 
 wooded banks followed the river's bend and 
 gradually sank to its level. Above the green 
 crest of the sloping hill-range in the distance 
 glistened numerous towers and gilded domes. 
 As the sun sank lower and struck at different 
 angles, it seemed to pick out the scene with 
 brilliant dots of gold. Calm, stately, and dig- 
 nified, the city with forest of temples made with 
 hands, with steady gleam of white and constant 
 flash of gold, was beautiful beyond description, 
 a revelation of glorious beauty and grace. And 
 all around us were Russian ladies quietly puffing 
 their cigarettes! 
 
 We looked at the scene long and well, feeling 
 that we never again would see it in such glo- 
 rious flood of sunlight. But as we looked upon 
 the beatific vision, we thought with greater 
 pleasure of the tall red chimneys that rose here 
 and there in the distance, with their long plumes 
 of smoke telling of the occupation and liveli- 
 hood of thousands. For Moscow is a busy city. 
 
78 HOLY MOSCOW. 
 
 In it are represented some six or eight hundred 
 manufactories and works, giving employment to 
 over seventy thousand people. Many are in and 
 about the city, others a few miles away. Cotton 
 spinning and weaving, cloth, silk, and worsted 
 mills and machine-works, bring prosperity and 
 new life to the whited sepulchre of Holy Moscow. 
 
 
Moscow and St. Savior's. 
 
THE ACEOPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 
 
 Ax intelligent Englishman, in speaking of a 
 trip to Russia, said, "Take Moscow: there is 
 nothing there but the Kremlin." But he had 
 never sat when a small boy in our old Village 
 Hall at home, and looked in wonder and delight 
 at the " Grand moving panorama of the Burning 
 of Moscow," concluding with an explosion of 
 the magazine in the Kremlin, and never then 
 and there said to himself, "Some day these eyes 
 shall look upon Holy Moscow and the Kremlin; " 
 nor through long years kept the little spark of 
 hope alive by reading, in book or newspaper, 
 descriptions of the place. He knew nothing of 
 the suppressed excitement of being so near to 
 a hope fulfilled and a day-dream realized, and 
 so was excusable. We could afford to be mag- 
 nanimous, for we were already on our way. But 
 no reading of Napoleon's campaigns, nor study 
 of his eventful history, ever fixed the vivid 
 impression of one of the most thrilling episodes 
 on record upon boyish mind, as was made by 
 
80 THE ACROPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 
 
 that (probably) cheap and common panorama of 
 long ago. 
 
 It must be extremely difficult to convey a 
 correct idea of it by word-description, for we 
 found, notwithstanding our familiarity from 
 repeated readings with its form, extent, and 
 character, that it — as an estimable old lady 
 invariably said, whenever she reached any place 
 or came into the presence of any object of which 
 she had long heard — "was not at all as we 
 expected." The name " Kremlin," said to be 
 the Tartar for fortress, is misleading. With 
 the word or idea of fortress, or even fortifica- 
 tion, looms up in the mind a structure massive, 
 sombre, and well-nigh impregnable, adequate to 
 modern defence; while in reality the Kremlin 
 looks more like a small walled town upon an 
 elevation in the centre of a busy city, a thing 
 whose picturesque beauty should ever insure its 
 protection. The lofty and pretty red walls, with 
 walk all round the inner side, do not seem like 
 fortifications, for they look so slight and are 
 without armament. 
 
 We entered Moscow at ten o'clock one evening. 
 The windows of heaven were evidently open, for 
 the sheeted rain fell in torrents, and of course 
 we saw nothing. But the next day a five min- 
 utes' walk upon the little narrow sidewalk, along 
 a busy street teeming with interesting figures 
 
THE KREMLIN. 81 
 
 and vehicles (something to see every moment), 
 brought us face to face with a high brick wall 
 with petal-like battlements and a tall white 
 ancient Gothic tower. Over its portal was a 
 mosaic " ikon " of Saint Nicholas, much revered, 
 because when Napoleon ordered the structure 
 to be blown up and destroyed, it was rent and 
 cracked to the very edge of the picture, and not 
 even the glass was broken nor the lamp before 
 it shattered. We passed through the tunnel- 
 like way and emerged in a large open place 
 with a huge arsenal to the right of us, and a 
 massive domed palace to the left of us, and a 
 great barrack for "the six hundred" in front of 
 us, with glimpses in the distance of gilded and 
 colored Oriental domes, gleams of exterior fres- 
 cos, and glistening crosses and tall towers. At 
 last, we were within the Kremlin. 
 
 The old fortress has a history, interesting and 
 thrilling; for built in the fourteenth century, it 
 has withstood siege after siege, has been burned 
 three or four times, and has been the scene of 
 the baptism, coronation, and burial of a long 
 line of czars. Even now an emperor must be 
 crowned there. Its ruddy walls measure some 
 7,280 feet, and scattered along its line at irregu- 
 lar intervals in most picturesque and riotous 
 variety are some eighteen towers and five gates. 
 One of the latter, called "the Redeemer's," is the 
 
 VOL. II. — 6 
 
82 THE ACROPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 
 
 sacred gate of Moscow. Over it is a picture of 
 our Saviour, painted in 1647. Every one, from 
 emperor to poorest peasant, who passes through 
 this portal must remove his hat. It is said that 
 Napoleon declared he would ride through it cov- 
 ered; but just as he reached it, the wind swept 
 off his hat! Within the enclosure of these walls 
 are barracks, an arsenal, a judicial building, 
 convents, a grand royal palace, the treasury, 
 synodical buildings, and some six or seven 
 churches and cathedrals, all standing in most 
 picturesque confusion. Some are buff, some 
 terra-cotta, and others are yellow and white ; 
 while the churches are also ornamented with 
 antique frescos, and with towers and domes of 
 indigo blue, white, and burnished gold. 
 
 As it was Ascension Day (Greek calendar), 
 the churches were crammed with a motley and 
 unsavory crowd. Not liking the atmosphere, we 
 loitered about until after service, looking at the 
 quaint, grotesque, yet picturesque structures 
 from different points, and " getting the geogra- 
 phy of it," when we came to a wall overlooking 
 a fine sweeping view of a large portion of the 
 city. The undulating mass of white walls and 
 pale -green roofs, fairly buried in a wealth of 
 foliage, with a forest of red and white towers 
 and spires and gilded domes rising all along 
 the line, made an enchanting and fairy-like 
 
THE KREMLIN. 83 
 
 picture. Again and again, during our stay in 
 Moscow, we went to this point, for even upon 
 gray and cloudy days there was an exquisite 
 mother-of-pearl look to this mass of white, roll- 
 ing and trembling in verdure. Directly in front 
 of us the grass-covered bank dropped away into 
 narrow gardens, while directly opposite were 
 the tower and gate by which the French victo- 
 riously entered, and by which they ignominiously 
 retreated. 
 
 A trio of churches within a stone's throw of 
 one another and of the palace are most interest- 
 ing, as representing the three important epochs 
 of baptism, coronation, and sepulture in the 
 lives of a long line of czars of the Rurik and 
 the Eomanoff families, and are as thrilling and 
 fascinating in their way as San Marco or West- 
 minster Abbey. The smallest of the three, the 
 church of the Annunciation, with nine gilded 
 domes, is close to the royal palace, and is the 
 scene of the baptism of the imperial infant. 
 It was undergoing extensive repairs, and was 
 crowded with scaffoldings, etc. ; but we saw the 
 passage-way covered with queer old frescos, the 
 gallery which the czar enters privately from 
 the palace, the jasper and agate floor presented 
 by a shah of Persia, and the "ikon" of the 
 " Holy Virgin of Don " carried even as long ago 
 as 1380 as a standard in battle, and considered 
 
84 THE ACROPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 
 
 possessed of miraculous powers. Around the 
 hideous face was a circlet or tiara of emeralds. 
 In a niche in the wall was a seat occupied by 
 Ivan until he married his fourth wife, and then 
 he was disgraced and obliged to kneel outside by 
 a window. But "his successors remain stand- 
 ing during the service." This church was sadly 
 pillaged by the French, but was restored by the 
 merchants of Moscow as a thank-offering for 
 deliverance from the plague, some one hundred 
 and ninety-six pounds of silver being used for 
 the screens alone. This queer old building has 
 been the scene also of many of the royal mar- 
 riages. It possesses many treasures and relics, 
 even to the sponge upon which vinegar was 
 offered to our Saviour! It seemed to us that 
 more strain was laid upon credulity in Eussia 
 than anywhere else. 
 
 By far the most interesting of the three 
 churches is the cathedral of the Assumption 
 (architecturally a mixture of Byzantine and 
 Lombard styles), because it retains so much of 
 its primitive forms, and has witnessed the gor- 
 geous and magnificent ceremonial of the corona- 
 tions, from Ivan the Terrible to the present czar. 
 None of them, compared with celebrated church 
 edifices, are large, and all have whitewashed 
 exteriors and look cheap, although some have 
 way up under projecting eaves bright frescos 
 
THE KREMLIN. 85 
 
 of religious subjects. But comparatively small 
 and disproportionately tall as they are, all are 
 surmounted by groups of small, graceful, Oriental 
 domes richly gilded and topped by open-work 
 crosses, steadied by guys of golden chains. It 
 is difficult to convey an idea of how exquisite 
 these domes and crosses appear, glittering and 
 flashing in the sunlight against a clear blue sky, 
 for it is so unlike anything we have. Above 
 the Assumption bask in the sunshine five domes, 
 one hundred and twenty-eight feet from the 
 pavement, all ablaze with gold. The interior 
 at first glance is disappointing, for it seems so 
 small, so confused, and so lacking in impressive 
 effect. Four enormous round piers support the 
 domed roof and break the interior into small 
 spaces. But as one loiters awhile and takes in 
 the details of solid golden surfaces, with quaint 
 old frescoed figures, the multitude of hanging 
 lamps, the immense central chandelier and the 
 silver, "ikon "-decorated screens across one end, 
 it opens, as the Venetian San Marco, like a huge 
 tropical flower, and grows in solemnity, sub- 
 limity, and impressiveness. It has always been 
 extremely rich in appointments, so much so that 
 the French, notwithstanding the principal objects 
 of value had been removed, took away from it 
 five tons of silver and five hundred weight of 
 gold. Much of this, however, was recovered by 
 
86 THE ACROPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 
 
 the Cossack soldiery, who in gratitude presented 
 a huge silver chandelier, which now hangs before 
 the sanctuary, containing one hundred and ninety- 
 six pounds of pure silver, wrought into a beauti- 
 ful cluster of forty-six branches. Several almost 
 as large, but of gilded metal, keep it company, 
 while some twenty or more superb hanging - 
 lamps burn before a dado of " ikons " along the 
 side walls. Only the Primates or Metropolitans 
 of the Greek Church are buried here. Wall and 
 ceilings are covered with ancient frescos upon 
 golden grounds, and age, dust, and incense- 
 smoke have dulled all but the gold, producing a 
 weird and uncanny effect. The immense screen 
 across the sanctuary is a mass of carving and 
 gold, with row after row of pictures, — a regular 
 gallery ! One of the holy pictures is the " Holy 
 Virgin of Vladmir," painted by Saint Luke, 
 brought to Moscow from Constantinople in 1135, 
 It is covered as usual, except face and hands, with 
 an ornamental "repousse " plate of gold, studded 
 with brilliant jewels, to the value of two hundred 
 and twenty-five thousand dollars, — one emerald 
 alone being valued at fifty thousand dollars. 
 Pendant from it, with other jewels given as 
 votive offerings, were a superb diamond neck- 
 lace and a tiara of lovely diamond flowers. 
 The face is scarcely distinguishable, being very 
 ancient, dark, and painted on wax. It is piti- 
 
THE KREMLIN. 87 
 
 able to see the people kiss and adore it. One can- 
 not help wondering as he looks at this fearfully 
 illiterate and simple accepting crowd, whether 
 He who looks upon the heart may not in some 
 way say " according to thy faith be it done unto 
 thee!" 
 
 Dean Stanley in his "Eastern Church" gives 
 a thrilling and vivid picture of the utter loneli- 
 ness of the coronation ceremonial, even to the 
 czar himself administering the sacrament, typical 
 of his being next to and alone with God, — which 
 latter, however, Murray says is incorrect. But 
 it is a fact that here beneath this dull and lofty 
 roof, upon a low platform, between two of these 
 ponderous columns, and directly opposite the 
 royal doors of the sanctuary, surrounded by all 
 this gold and decoration of ancient times and 
 these old frescos of councils, Last Judgment, 
 Life and death of Virgin, Patriarchs, Fathers, 
 and Saints, — every one of a long line of empe- 
 rors clad in the costly, magnificent robes of office, 
 has here lifted a heavily and gorgeously jewelled 
 crown to his head, has knelt and audibly " recited 
 the confession of the orthodox faith," and offered 
 up "the prayer of intercession for the Empire," 
 and then entering the Holy of Holies has par- 
 taken of the sacrament of the broken body and 
 shed blood. With the whole interior hung with 
 cloth-of-gold and richest velvets, and surrounded 
 
88 THE ACROPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 
 
 by a court surpassing all others in gorgeousness 
 of costume and richness of attire and semi-bar- 
 baric wealth and displa} r of priceless jewels, 
 these scenes must be magnificent. Later we 
 saw a large painting of the coronation of the 
 present czar, which for lavish magnificence was 
 indescribable. 
 
 The tombs of the Primates are held in high 
 esteem, and are buried in a mass of silver, gold, 
 and gorgeous velvet hangings. No woman is 
 permitted to enter the sanctuary. We saw under 
 glass a silver model of Moses upon Mt. Sinai, 
 containing nineteen pounds of gold and the same 
 of silver. Beneath it is kept the certificate and 
 state papers of the last coronation. In some 
 side-rooms are silver tombs, reliquaries, and a 
 celebrated "ikon/' called the Blessed Virgin of 
 Jerusalem. These tombs are caskets, or sar- 
 cophagi, of solid silver. Lift up the lids, and 
 there, covered with richest vestments, is the 
 body of the saint. Frequently an opening, or 
 aperture, shows the blackened nose or hand, 
 and the people cross themselves and bend over 
 and kiss them as we would a fresh, rosy baby! 
 The sacred relics run the usual gamut of "a nail 
 from the true cross," "a piece of our Saviour's 
 robe," etc., while the ecclesiastical treasures 
 are a blinding blaze of silver, gold, and precious 
 stones. 
 
THE KREMLIN. 89 
 
 A few steps from this building is the last 
 of the trio, the Cathedral of the Arch-Angel 
 Michael, built in 1332. The interior presents 
 a most remarkable appearance, for it looks, 
 between the gorgeous screen, the multitude of 
 hanging-lamps, chandeliers, and metal banners, 
 quite like a bric-a-brac shop. The banners are 
 seen everywhere, and are gorgeous to the ex- 
 treme. Some are of velvet, richly embroidered 
 with gold, but oftener of openwork of silver- 
 gilt, enriched with exquisite enamels and pre- 
 cious stones. AVithin this small interior and 
 taking up full one half of it are the dark, uni- 
 form box-like tombs of czars and princes to the 
 number of fifty or more, all covered with red- 
 velvet palls, each embroidered with a golden 
 cross. That of Ivan the Terrible is covered 
 with black to denote his death as a monk. Alas ! 
 that of his little son, murdered at the age of six, 
 lies near by. Xo wonder that twice a year " a 
 funeral service is performed here, and forgive- 
 ness invoked for that burden of sins, voluntary 
 or involuntary, known to themselves or unknown, 
 which those who are buried in the cathedral 
 committed when on earth." 
 
 We visited two of the large convents which 
 enclose three churches, all with clustered gilt 
 domes, and very pretty interiors, but with noth- 
 ing of marked interest except the tombs of the 
 
90 THE ACROPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 
 
 czarinas and other royal ladies, covered with 
 embroidered velvet palls, which well-nigh fill one 
 church. It is a strange sight, all these velvet- 
 covered tombs, surrounded by a blaze of gold 
 and cloud of color, with the black-robed nuns 
 who care for them flitting to and fro, dusting 
 one or tidying another. 
 
 Close to the Cathedral of the Assumption, 
 where the emperors are crowned, is a long build- 
 ing one end of which is surmounted by white 
 cupolas and domes. In an upper story is the 
 Sacristy of the Holy Synod, — three rooms, with 
 presses containing ecclesiastical robes, embroi- 
 dered with pearls, medallions, rubies, emeralds, 
 and diamonds, mitres with precious stones, pas- 
 toral staffs richly jewelled, and some superb 
 crosses and ornaments worn around the neck by 
 the priests. One robe, presented by Ivan the 
 Terrible in expiation of a murder, is of crimson 
 velvet, and so loaded with chased medallions 
 and embroidery of gold, with pearls, rubies, 
 emeralds, and diamonds, as to weigh fifty-four 
 pounds. In one room is a large case of silver 
 and gold vessels for church use, of quaint and 
 beautiful design. In a smaller one is a copper 
 vase, or- bottle, with a long narrow neck com- 
 pletely covered with small scales of thin mother- 
 of-pearl, called the "Alabaster," containing the 
 precious ointment used by Mary Magdalen! 
 
THE KREMLIN. 91 
 
 Just how any was saved we did not under- 
 stand, for it is written that she broke the pre- 
 cious box of ointment and poured it over the 
 Saviour's feet. 
 
 In this room is prepared every two or three 
 years, during Lent, by the Metropolitan and 
 higher clergy, the Holy Chrism used at the 
 baptism of every Russian, at the consecration 
 of every church, and for the anointing of the 
 emperor at his coronation. It is u composed of 
 thirty different elements, — oil, wine, gums, 
 balsams, and spices," — and it is made holy by a 
 few drops from the "Alabaster." These drops 
 are replaced by some of the completed mixture, 
 so, like the widow's cruse, it never fails, and 
 at the same time the new represents to every 
 believing Russian the precious ointment of Mary. 
 It is prepared according to a strict formula. In 
 the adjoining room stands a magnificent silver 
 caldron with handles of gold, full four and a 
 half feet in height, and two great silver kettles 
 three feet in height, presented by Catherine II. 
 for its preparation; the great ladles, sieves, etc., 
 used are also of silver. When finished, it is 
 poured into sixteen tall vase-like silver jars, 
 presented by Paul I. It is said that there is 
 twelve hundred weight of silver in them all. 
 The vases stand upon the floor in a semi-circle 
 in the plate press, and look like antique cinerary 
 
92 THE ACROPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 
 
 urns. The "Alabaster" is of a very graceful 
 shape and is very beautiful. " At the baptism 
 of children the priest crosses with a small camel- 
 hair brush, dipped in the chrism, the mouth, 
 eyes, ears, hands, and feet, besides the back and 
 breast. The eyes are anointed in order that 
 the child may see only good, the ears that they 
 may admit only what is pure, the mouth that 
 he may speak as becomes a Christian, the hands 
 that they may do no wrong, and the feet that 
 they may tread in the path of virtue." 
 
 One of the most stately and picturesque struc- 
 tures within the Kremlin is the "Ivan tower," — 
 a tall (325 feet) five-story tower, surmounted by 
 a gilded dome and cross. It rises from one end 
 of a long narrow building, which also upholds 
 two other lower towers and domes and a chapel 
 dedicated to Saint Nicholas, the patron saint of 
 ladies about to marry. Go where you may, this 
 uplifted dome towers above everything else. 
 The view from it is said to be magnificent, but 
 its four hundred and fifty steps were too much 
 for us, although we looked at the summit with 
 longing eyes and strong desire. It holds thirty- 
 four bells, beginning with one weighing sixty- 
 four tons and ending with two small ones of 
 silver of exquisite tone. Near its base upon a 
 frame-work or foundation of brick stands the 
 great bell of Moscow, "the King of bells." Way 
 
THE KREMLIN. 93 
 
 back in 1636 a huge bell was cast. In 1654 this 
 was recast. It was broken in 1706, and again 
 recast in 1733 by the Empress Anne. Some 
 heavy rafters fell upon it during a fire in 1737, 
 and it lay half buried in the ground until 1836, 
 when it was placed as now seen. Beside it lies 
 a large piece broken from it, said to weigh eleven 
 tons. The whole bell stands twenty -six feet 
 in height, and is surmounted by a crown and 
 ornamented with bass-reliefs of Alexander and 
 Empress Anne, with below a scroll-work bearing 
 our Saviour, the evangelists, and cherubim. It 
 weighs two hundred tons. It is said that in the 
 recasting, the ladies of the court standing by 
 threw their jewels in the molten metal, and that 
 the shattering of it was owing to this. 
 
 There are several smaller churches and palaces, 
 etc., not open to visitors. In front of the great 
 Arsenal lie trophies of war, being some eight 
 hundred and seventy-five cannon. There are 
 also many ornamental pieces, and one cannon 
 weighing forty tons. 
 
 From the Kremlin heights one studies the 
 Moscow of to-day; and from Moscow, upon the 
 hill-top, the story of long ago. A conspicuous 
 feature in the view in one direction is an enor- 
 mous white building of several stories (which 
 reminds one of Fabyan's in our White Moun- 
 tains), — the State Foundling Asylum, where 
 
94 THE ACROPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 
 
 seven thousand children are received annually. 
 Napoleon used it as a military hospital, and five 
 thousand of his soldiers lie buried in its court- 
 yard. This immense establishment is supported 
 principally by the government tax upon playing- 
 cards! 
 
 A morning in the Kremlin was passed in the 
 world-renowned Treasury and the grand Eoyal 
 Palace, — contiguous structures, but with en- 
 trances literally a quarter of a mile apart. The 
 Treasury is a veritable museum, recalling the 
 Tower of London; and but for repeated fires and 
 the melting up of silver and golden vessels in 
 times of war, it would to-day surpass any other 
 collection in Europe in the great number of 
 countries represented, in the articles of plate- 
 armor and jewels. As it is, it is magnificent 
 and priceless, because of the great number, 
 infinite variety, and superb richness of the 
 venerated historic and ancient articles it con- 
 tains. The position of Russia upon the border- 
 land of barbaric and luxurious and sensuous 
 Turkey and Asia has brought her monarchs in 
 all sorts of attitudes of peace and war, which 
 have called forth presents and tributes from 
 Oriental rulers, of characteristic lavishness and 
 sumptuousness. And surely no countries use 
 gold and silver and pearls and precious stones 
 upon every conceivable article of use or orna- 
 
THE KREMLIN. 95 
 
 ment as these wild, barbaric, Eastern ones do. 
 Firearms, saddles, articles of dress, plate, and 
 all sort of boxes, sword-hilts, and spears are 
 encrusted lavishly with diamonds, rubies, and 
 precious stones, until they fairly blaze and dazzle 
 with scintillating lights. Ivory is inlaid with 
 gold and silver, etc., in patterns as fine and 
 intricate as India shawls. 
 
 We entered a vestibule from which a fine 
 staircase ascended to the upper rooms, with 
 portraits of the kings of Poland, eight or ten 
 old royal carriages, one of the most elaborate 
 having been presented by Queen Elizabeth of 
 England. Another was entirely covered with 
 velvet, studded with gilt nails. The huge sled 
 by which the Empress Elizabeth used to travel 
 from St. Petersburg to Moscow was quite like 
 a parlor car, with a long table through the 
 centre and seats all around. They were all the 
 most unwieldy and huge affairs, and were faded 
 and tarnished. Near a marble statue of Napo- 
 leon stand two camp bedsteads, etc., taken from 
 him in campaigns. We then passed up a stately 
 staircase, and visited several consecutive rooms 
 having a fine collection of Eussian armor, and 
 armor for men and horses, ancient Eussian fire- 
 arms and standards, portraits of the Romanoff 
 (the present) dynasty, jewelled saddles and 
 accoutrements, shields, and exquisitely inlaid 
 
96 THE ACKOPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 
 
 and jewelled armor. In one room are cases 
 containing some sixteen hundred pieces of plate 
 from England, Germany, and almost every coun- 
 try, many of which are of quaint design and 
 elaborate workmanship. Many of the Russian 
 plate possessions can be seen in electrotype 
 reproductions in our Metropolitan Museum, but 
 the superb wine casket is only in the Hermitage 
 at St. Petersburg. Other cases are filled with 
 matchless seventeenth-century enamels, vessels 
 and ornaments of rock crystal, and beautiful odd 
 pieces of china. It is a rich display, and it was 
 vexatious only to glance at them and move on. 
 But the glory of the Treasury is a circular 
 room, containing thrones, crowns, royal robes, 
 and insignia. In the centre is a long glass case 
 covering the baldacchino, or canopy, carried over 
 the present emperor in his coronation procession, 
 of rich cloth-of-gold emblazoned with the royal 
 crests and finished with great bunches of orange 
 and black plumes. Beneath is the long golden 
 mantle, or circular, trimmed with ermine and 
 embroidered with the arms of Russia, as also the 
 other garments worn by him on that occasion. 
 Behind it is the golden mantle, quite similar, 
 worn by the empress on that occasion, and also 
 the solid spun-silver embroidered dress worn by 
 her. It looked exactly like tin, and had an 
 enormous train with embossed flower-border. 
 
THE KREMLIN. 97 
 
 Beside it lay the dainty openwork silk stock- 
 ings, the tiny silver slippers, and the gloves 
 worn with it. It gives quite an idea of the 
 gorgeous ceremonial. Gold and silver could go 
 no further. Around the sides of this room are 
 tall glass cases, in which hang the coronation 
 robes of all the sovereigns from Catherine II. to 
 the present regime, all quite alike. Before them 
 stand six thrones, which for delicacy and lavish 
 richness "lead all the rest. 7 ' One, a single chair, 
 covered entirely with carved ivory panels, was 
 the throne of the last emperor of Constantinople, 
 and was used at the coronation of Alexander II., 
 father of the present emperor. Near it stands 
 the historic throne of Poland. One magnificent 
 Persian throne is enriched by "eight hundred 
 and seventy-six diamonds, twelve hundred and 
 twenty-three rubies, besides innumerable pearls 
 and turquoise." That of Ivan the Terrible, a 
 present from the shah of Persia, is dotted with 
 nine thousand small turquoise all over "like a 
 rash." Another golden one is studded with 
 large turquoise, rubies, and pearls to the number 
 of twenty-two hundred. Beneath a glass case is 
 a double one of silver, of flamboyant design, 
 made for Ivan and Peter. The drapery at the 
 back conceals an aperture through which his 
 sister Sophia was said to have prompted Ivan 
 on state occasions. 
 
 VOL. II. — 7 
 
98 THE ACROPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 
 
 These thrones were exquisitely beautiful, be- 
 ing of excellent shapes and sparkling with cut 
 and uncut jewels. Before thern in a circle around 
 the room were ten pedestals, holding under glass 
 shades as many crowns. Each rested upon a 
 band of sable, and with one or two exceptions 
 were like a conical cap. One was the crown of 
 Stanislaus Augustus, the last king of Poland; 
 another, the crown of Kazan, glowing with 
 rubies, turquoise, and pearls, and surmounted 
 by an enormous topaz. The crown of Astrakan 
 is enriched by beautiful enamels, one hundred 
 and ninety precious stones, and upholds a huge 
 emerald. A most magnificent one is that of 
 Peter I., which is ornamented with nine hun- 
 dred diamonds, with rubies and emeralds alter- 
 nating between points upon pliant wires, and at 
 its apex an enormous uncut and irregular shaped 
 but lovely tinted ruby, from which springs a 
 diamond cross. But the costliest one of all is 
 that of the Empress Anne (although originally 
 made for Catherine I.), with twenty-five hun- 
 dred and thirty-six diamonds and a priceless 
 ruby purchased in Pekin in 1676. Another was 
 of filigree gold and gems; and still another was 
 of ordinary shape, with enormous cut amethysts, 
 sapphires, and emeralds. That used by the 
 present czar is an ancient one, and looks like a 
 partly open melon, but it is such a blaze of light 
 
THE KREMLIN. 99 
 
 that the shape is quite indistinguishable. Then 
 there are orbs and sceptres and collars, etc., all 
 a solid mass of costly gems. The tout ensemble 
 is brilliant and dazzling beyond description. As 
 the sunlight pours in, the prismatic sparkle of 
 colors, the brilliant flash of diamonds, and the 
 mellow sheen of gold is simply marvellous. But 
 somehow it could not obliterate the sight of the 
 wretched peasant hut we visited, nor the great 
 multitude of wretched pilgrims, so poor and 
 forlorn, we had seen at Troitsa. 
 
 The interior of the adjacent Eoyal Palace is 
 a charming illustration of what refined and cul- 
 tivated taste can do with the same rich materials 
 used in the older palaces with such bizarre and 
 gorgeous effect. The delicate and harmonious 
 colorings and the judicious use of gold is in 
 striking contrast with the startling hues and 
 unsparing avalanche of gilt there seen. It is 
 comparatively new, as it was built by Nicholas I. 
 between 1838 and 1849, replacing one erected by 
 Catherine and occupied by Napoleon and burned 
 by the French. It is a very long tall building, 
 with a sort of Oriental window-casings, washed 
 a salmon tint, and surmounted by a cushion and 
 crown of gold. It is of course of immense extent, 
 for royal housekeeping involves large expendi- 
 ture. Although there are some seven hundred 
 rooms, only the state apartments and some 
 
100 THE ACROPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 
 
 ancient family rooms are shown. But it is all 
 very grand, rich, and refined, at the same time 
 imposing and magnificent. 
 
 We entered a vestibule with huge monolithic 
 columns of gray marble, and then ascended a 
 stately staircase of great length and beauty. 
 Soon we entered the Hall of St. George (two 
 hundred feet in length), with columns and 
 statues all in white, with furniture in black 
 and orange, the colors of the Order, with six 
 enormous chandeliers and tall candelabra uphold- 
 ing thirty-two hundred candles. It was superb, 
 and from one end an enormous window com- 
 mands the peerless view of the old city. Then 
 followed a lovely and imposing hall all in pale 
 pink and gold, dedicated to the Order of St. 
 Alexander Nevski, with stands or buffets at 
 either end for the royal plate, while lovely 
 frescos by Muller fill tall spandrels and panels. 
 The triple-domed ceiling of pale blue and gold 
 produces a most delicate and mellow effect. This 
 opened into the Hall of the Order of St. Andrew, 
 every room being hung or furnished with the 
 colors of the Order to which it is assigned. This 
 was in lovely watered silk, with pilasters all 
 ablaze with arms of Kussian provinces, and at 
 one end a handsome golden throne resting upon 
 a dais covered with cloth-of-gold. Ten superb 
 chandeliers and as many standing candelabra 
 
THE KREMLIN. 101 
 
 adorn this princely room. Next was the room 
 of the Order of St, Catherine, in red and silver, 
 with malachite pilasters, enormons candelabra 
 of crystal and gold, and a superb canopy and 
 throne in the Order's colors, where the newly- 
 made empress always holds a drawing-room after 
 her coronation. Then we walked through state, 
 drawing, and bedrooms, with doors inlaid with 
 mother-of-pearl and metals, with jasper columns, 
 ormolu and china ornaments, crystal vases of 
 enormous heights, superb chandeliers, decorated 
 porcelain vases, and exquisitely inlaid floors 
 that were works of art in every sense. There 
 is nothing bizarre or vulgar about any of the 
 rooms; all is refined and intrinsically beauti- 
 ful. A dainty chapel was overlooked from side 
 windows. 
 
 Looking from one side of a court, we saw a 
 most picturesque and peculiar structure, called 
 the Terem, anciently devoted to the czarita and 
 her children. It is of four stories, each gradu- 
 ally diminishing until the topmost one contains 
 only a single room, — like a temple, or pagoda. 
 The rooms were small, with vaulted ceilings and 
 lots of old chairs, chests, and beds of a bygone 
 age. Then we passed into the Granovitaya 
 Palace, in which, was a decorated hall leading 
 to the outer staircase, by which the emperor 
 descends for his coronation; also into the room 
 
102 THE ACROPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 
 
 where he sits enthroned for the first time in 
 all the insignia of his rank, and where the 
 coronation banquet is given. Quaint frescos, 
 huge columns, and enormous bronze chandeliers, 
 and high up overlooking it a window from which 
 the empress surveys the scene, finish "the show." 
 One more superb hall followed. It was that 
 of the Order of St. Vladamir, with high-pointed 
 roof, airy, graceful, and beautiful, and hangings 
 of red and black silk. Fit ending this to a 
 dream of marble halls and kingly abode ; but 
 oh, what a painful contrast to the hovels and 
 huts of peasants throughout the land! 
 
A TE DEUM IN STONE. 
 
 The deliverance of Holy Moscow from the grasp 
 and dominion of the French was an historical 
 event of such vital importance and of such wide- 
 spread significance that it was only natural that 
 thanksgiving should be expressed in enduring 
 stone and everlasting memorial. 
 
 The original intention was to erect a magnifi- 
 cent church, a Te Deum in stone, upon that 
 spur of the Sparrow Hills from which Napoleon 
 obtained his first view of the fair, beautiful, and 
 sacred city, and work was begun and for nine 
 years carried on at intervals. Then the dis- 
 covery of some Tweed-like manipulations (result- 
 ing in the honor of a long vacation in Siberia for 
 the architect), and the finding that the soil was 
 "unsuitable for an edifice of a ponderous char- 
 acter," led to the abandonment of the project. 
 Some fourteen years after (1839), the present 
 structure within the city was begun, and in 1883 
 it was finished, " entirely with Russian materials 
 and labor, " at a cost of ten million dollars ! 
 
104 A TE DEUM IN STONE. 
 
 Where there is so much semi-barbaric splendor 
 and so many remnants of the character and devel- 
 opments of a past age, it is a relief to have one 
 demonstration of what advanced culture and 
 modern taste can do, with the same materials. 
 The church, a tall, slender, stately structure of 
 cream-colored stone, with a ponderous golden 
 dome and four small cupola domes, stands upon 
 a gentle elevation, surrounded by an open plaza, 
 a terrace, and pretty gardens, and is a conspicu- 
 ous feature in every view of the city. While 
 the exterior is in better taste than the older 
 structures, it is so ornamented by immense bas- 
 reliefs as to fail in impress iveness and grandeur. 
 Like so many of the Greek churches, it looks so 
 slim and tall. The summit of the cross upon 
 the great dome is three hundred and forty feet 
 above the ground. Granite steps lead to an 
 imposing portico with thirty-six marble columns 
 and richly cast doors of bronze, and high above 
 is inscribed "God with us." There is ample 
 room within for seven thousand persons. 
 
 The interior gives not in the faintest degree 
 any occasion for disappointment. In simple dig- 
 nity of form, in genuine and intrinsic richness 
 of finish, in harmony of coloring, and in absolute 
 perfection of every detail broad and minute, it 
 surpasses any interior in Europe save that of 
 the Albert Chapel at Windsor. Unlike lovely 
 
ST. SAVIOUR'S, MOSCOW. 105 
 
 and poetic San Marco, the glory of Venice, it 
 needs no glamour of imagination, no "reading 
 between the lines." Nothing is so crowded with 
 sentiment, poetry, religious feeling, and artistic 
 sense as San Marco; but much depends upon the 
 individual. We sat day after day entranced by 
 its picturesque and solemn effects, fascinated by 
 its pictured stories which make it a " People's 
 Bible," and astonished at the symbolic meaning 
 of its wealth of details; but some persons finish 
 it "at one sitting." Yet San Marco is dingy, 
 musty, and old; while St. Saviour's on the 
 other hand is as fresh and fair as some sym- 
 metrical and gorgeous flower of the tropics. It 
 has not the symbolism or hidden meaning which 
 makes the other a continuous revelation; but it 
 is so fair, so sumptuous, so harmonious, that it 
 seems like a glad, exultant, and triumphant 
 Te Deum. 
 
 In a majority of the churches the usual ground- 
 plan of the Greek cross is marred by the lofty 
 golden "ikonastas," or screens, which cut off one 
 arm entirely. Not so in St. Saviour's, for at one 
 glance the whole form of the cross is seen. In- 
 stead of a partition-like screen across the begin- 
 ning of one arm, there rises in stately beauty 
 an octagonal temple or sanctuary of polished 
 white marble, carved and inlaid with gold and 
 mosaic, and enclosing in panels lovely modern 
 
106 A TE DEUM IN STONE. 
 
 pictures. At each corner is a parapet finished 
 with a cross, and over it all a golden pointed 
 roof, and through the centre of the front two 
 superb golden gates, which might be those of 
 Paradise. As attendant priests, in long flowing 
 robes of crimson and gold brocade, swept with 
 commanding and graceful review through these 
 shining gates, following the high priest, thus 
 closing all sight of the Holy of Holies from the 
 people, the scene was dramatic and beautiful. 
 But it all looks like idolatry pure and simple, 
 and is saddening and unsatisfactory to the last 
 degree. All around the side walls of the edifice 
 is a dado of polished "Labrador," red like por- 
 phyry, with panels of glittering dark-green Fin- 
 land granite. Above this, a story is covered 
 with immense panels of white marble, inlaid 
 with gold and framed with bright soft gray pol- 
 ished stone. Above this appears a frieze of 
 two or three colored marbles, ornamented with 
 a succession of gilded Greek crosses; and then 
 upon the walls above and the ceiling, and soar- 
 ing away to the apex of the dome, is a soft 
 mellow glory of gold and delicate colors, of fres- 
 coed saints and prophets and evangelists, and 
 encircling the drum of the dome a procession 
 of archangels, prophets, apostles, and martyrs 
 tending toward the Virgin and the Christ. High 
 above them all in the great concave of the dome, 
 
ST. SAVIOUR'S, MOSCOW. 107 
 
 almost like an apparition, is a representation of 
 the Trinity, — God the Father surrounded by 
 angels, with the Saviour as a child at his right 
 hand, and upon his outstretched hand the Dove. 
 The gradation of color is wonderful, from this 
 dark red and green of ponderous marble, up, until 
 in a soft mist and delicate cloud far away are 
 seen these spectral figures typical of the Trinity. 
 In each of the three arms of the building appears 
 a gallery with double row of richest golden metal- 
 work candlesticks and balustrades. Chandeliers 
 of richest material and most graceful form hang 
 everywhere ; also " ikons " in symmetrical and 
 uniform stands and in altar-like frames along 
 the tabernacle end, and modern frescos in 
 softest and most delicate tints on every side. 
 Not a detail is slighted. Everything is perfect 
 in richness and costliness of material and ex- 
 treme carefulness and conscientiousness of finish. 
 All around the audience-room is a continuous 
 corridor, or hall, entirely separate from it, with 
 side walls covered with immense polished marble 
 panels inscribed with the names of battles in 
 the French war, and of the soldiers who perished 
 in defence of city and fatherland. This impos- 
 ing Walhalla is as finely finished as the church, 
 and holds beautifully in everlasting remembrance 
 those who laid down life for their country. There 
 is something thrilling in this great silent array 
 
108 A TE DEUM IN STONE. 
 
 of names, showing the truth of the poet's asser- 
 tion, "The path of glory leads but to the grave." 
 Within the great solemn sanctuary, beyond the 
 golden gates, stand the sacramental altar and 
 the seven-branched candlestick, beyond which 
 in a semi-circular alcove or apse is a painting 
 of the Last Supper, by Verestchagin. It is very 
 fine and impressive, and the apostles looked the 
 plain homely men they really were. 
 
 It was a delight to sit in the quiet and repose 
 of this interior and feel the wondrous harmony 
 of proportion, material, and color. It was like 
 a vision, so soft, dreamy, and delicious. The 
 view from the galleries is indescribable, — every- 
 where intricate arabesques in colors upon golden 
 grounds, framing in figures of saints or pictured 
 groups. Even in the corridors that surround 
 the galleries the walls are exquisitely painted 
 by Russian artists with scenes from the lives of 
 their kings and saints. We wondered if rich- 
 ness of material, lavishness of expenditure, grace- 
 fulness of form, or soft glory of gold and color 
 could go any farther than this. The building 
 seems immense, and yet it is light and airy in 
 appearance. One can sit there and feel the 
 shadows of the dark, rich marbles enfold him; 
 can look up and catch the light in color and in 
 gold of a brighter day, and then, looking far 
 away in the lofty firmament-like dome, be con- 
 
ST. SAVIOUR'S, MOSCOW. 109 
 
 scious of the hope whose glory fadeth not away ! 
 We have felt that the Greek churches and ser- 
 vices lacked the dignity of the Latin; that the 
 " ikons" and gorgeous banners and tasteless 
 ornament savored of childish things; but in this 
 building there is a solemnity, an expression, a 
 character, that is very impressive. As we sat 
 there, we asked what was the spell that held us. 
 It was "perfect harmony," which, like that in 
 music, may be felt but cannot be described. It 
 was so restful; so like a suggestion of a 
 temple not made with hands, of a tabernacle 
 that fadeth not away, and of a city which is a 
 heavenly, with its rich picturing of jasper and 
 of gold. As we tarried there enfolded with the 
 glory of precious gold, and lost in the glowing 
 colors of deep and priceless gems, we could only 
 repeat, "Behold I will lay thy stones with fair 
 colors, and lay thy foundations with sapphires. 
 And I will make thy gates of carbuncles and all 
 thy borders of pleasant stones!" 
 
FEAGMENTAKY. 
 
 Just outside of the great Eedeemer gate of the 
 Kremlin is the Bed Square, the scene of many 
 an execution and historical incident. Facing it 
 is the Cathedral of St. Basil, the odd and pic- 
 turesque church so often seen in paintings and 
 views of Moscow. It is narrow and very lofty, 
 and is surmounted by eleven domes, no two of 
 which are similar. Some are twisted like screws, 
 others conical and like an inverted onion, and 
 one is like a pineapple. It looks like a great 
 castor with mismatched cruets, like a great coni- 
 cal toy, and again like an odd fungus growth. 
 Although grotesque, it is always picturesque. 
 But the interior is still more odd and peculiar, 
 for it is a maze of crooked narrow passages only 
 a few feet wide, with a small separate chapel 
 beneath each of the eleven domes. These minia- 
 ture chapels are like inverted tubes, and although 
 but a few feet in diameter they go up and up 
 until lost in the dome above. It is all droll and 
 queer, and seems like an architectural freak. 
 Napoleon said, " Destroy that mosque ! " but his 
 
***** 
 
St. Basil's and Redeemer Gate. 
 
MOSCOW AND TROITSA. Ill 
 
 soldiers had stabled their horses in the basement 
 beneath, and it was saved. It is washed with 
 dull reds and greens and yellows, with scarcely 
 a touch of gold. Close by, it loo"ks tawdry, 
 cheap, and gaudy. But stand away from it and 
 watch it in the tender haze of a June day, and all 
 these colors will tremble, melt, and gleam like 
 opals ; or when the afternoon sun throws its slant- 
 ing rays full and red upon it, it is transfigured, 
 and becomes a glory of weird color and quaint 
 outlines, delightfully dreamy and picturesque. 
 
 One of the interesting sights of Moscow is the 
 Eomanoff House, the old residence of Michael, 
 the founder of the present royal dynasty. For 
 a long period of years it was occupied as a mon- 
 astery, it having been given to an Order. But 
 in 1856 Alexander II. purchased it, and fully 
 restored it to its original condition. It is a fine 
 illustration of the architecture and the manner 
 of living of the "well-to-do" Bussians of the 
 Middle Ages. It stands close to the street, is 
 small, and shows but two stories; but being on 
 a slope of a steep hill it has three facing or 
 opening upon the court at the rear. It is a 
 pretty little museum of furniture and interior 
 decorations ; for while it is a correct restoration, 
 there is probably but little of the original build- 
 ing left, except the walls of stone. The rooms 
 were small, finished entirely in wood, with much 
 
112 FRAGMENTARY. 
 
 carving and scroll-sawing, and hung with rich 
 damasks, etc. In a nursery are grouped the 
 cradle, playthings, rattle, little picture-books, 
 and all sorts of baby things belonging to the baby- 
 hood of the great Michael. In a large sleeping- 
 room is a beautifully carved canopy-bed with em- 
 broidered cover, belonging to some distinguished 
 member of the family. One small apartment was 
 the chapel, or praying-room, the doors of which 
 were very low, because they said every one 
 should bow when he comes into the presence of 
 God. In some of the rooms were beautiful 
 pieces of silver plate, engraved glass, rare old 
 china, and quaint embroideries and antique por- 
 traits. Little glass-cabinets were inserted in 
 the walls, and the ceilings were ornamented with 
 bands of fancy scroll-work. "Ikons" of course 
 abounded, some cases being entirely filled with 
 them. One lovely room was a library with 
 writing-desk and paraphernalia, and a quaint old 
 stove of gayly colored tiles. The stoves in sev- 
 eral of the rooms were very curious, one being 
 inscribed, "There is no better home than one's 
 own." Altogether, with richly carved and quaint 
 old furniture and bric-a-brac and queer little 
 stairways and rooms, all beautifully fresh and 
 orderly, it was a charming picture of the six- 
 teenth or seventeenth century life. 
 
MOSCOW AND TROITSA. 113 
 
 Quite in contrast with this old-time story was 
 the picture of to-day afforded by the Asiatic 
 Exhibition, where in rooms fitted up in Oriental 
 style was a fine show of the silks, tissues, prints, 
 rugs, carpets, draperies, and bric-a-brac from the 
 provinces of Asiatic and Turkish Eussia, all 
 shown by attendants in the native costumes. 
 Some of the silken rugs were as high as seven 
 hundred and fifty and a thousand dollars each, 
 and were not more than six feet long at that. 
 In other rooms there was a general exhibit of 
 the manufactures of Eussia cotton spinning and 
 weaving, beautiful chintz, Nottingham lace cur- 
 tains, superb silver and colored brocades for 
 priestly garments, machinery, brass and silver 
 work, needles, wall-hangings, and iron-works. 
 We were told that all were introduced by French, 
 German, and English capital, and that although 
 run by Russian labor the overseers and brains 
 are all foreign; for the Russians, although highly 
 educated and accomplished, do not seem to grasp 
 the technical and practical knowledge required. 
 Great attention has been paid to the establish- 
 ment of technical schools, but as yet the people 
 do not seem to "get the hang of it." All through 
 the country one sees enormous works covering 
 acres of ground. One at Tver employs four 
 thousand men. But for "protection n there would 
 not be a manufactory in the kingdom. The only 
 
 VOL. II. — 8 
 
114 FRAGMENTARY. 
 
 trouble is in machinery, cotton goods, etc. They 
 have only a home market, and when the harvest 
 fails everything is depressed. 
 
 The most interesting excursion from Moscow 
 is to Troitsa Monastery, some fifty or more miles 
 away, by rail. The monastery is a ten min- 
 utes' drive from the station, and was from the 
 first glimpse to our last look a most novel and 
 interesting (but never a pretty) sight. It is in 
 fact a fortress established in 1300, by Saint 
 Sergius. In course of time the Order became 
 very wealthy and powerful, so that at one time 
 it held one hundred and six thousand serfs. 
 Once it was besieged for sixteen months by 
 thirty thousand Poles, and later sustained an- 
 other prolonged attack. The walls measure 
 3,794 feet ; are from thirty to thirty-five feet 
 in height, and twenty feet thick. Nine towers 
 rise at as many angles. 
 
 As we approached a large open cobbled-stone 
 plaza, a strange sight was presented by the 
 numerous booths for the sale of everything, and 
 the large number of odd, grotesque-looking people 
 in "rags and tags." They were pilgrims from 
 all parts of the country, this monastery being 
 one of the sacred places for fulfilment of vows, 
 etc. Of all human beings we have seen, they 
 were the worst-looking, although often very droll 
 
MOSCOW AND TROITSA. 115 
 
 and picturesque. With a bag of supplies upon 
 the back, a cane or staff, dresses and wraps of 
 all colors and kinds, and heads covered with 
 cloths, they were indeed a motley crowd. The 
 booths seemed Oriental and picturesque, with 
 gay cotton goods and bright tin and brass ware, 
 with numerous stands and piles of sunflower and 
 pumpkin seeds, great masses of onions, and loads 
 and loads of cucumbers, of which the peasants 
 are extravagantly fond. 
 
 We drove through an arch beneath a tower 
 and came into the little world within the walls. 
 Churches, cemeteries, monastic buildings, etc., 
 were upon every side. First, we visited the 
 sacristy, or treasury. An old priest, with flow- 
 ing hair, black robes, and tall pill-box hat 
 preceded us. Several large iron-bound doors 
 were unlocked and opened before we reached 
 the three rooms upon the second floor, contain- 
 ing the costly collection. In cases around and 
 also in centre of the rooms were hung priestly 
 robes presented by various empresses, etc., with 
 heavy incrustations, pearls, precious stones, gold 
 and silver, and various altar-cloths, etc., exquis- 
 itely wrought and covered with embroidery. In 
 one case were the plain homely robes of the 
 humble Saint Sergius and the cross he wore. In 
 startling contrast in another were the crowns of 
 Catherine II. and the Empress Elizabeth, and 
 
116 FRAGMENTARY. 
 
 several presented by as many crowned heads, 
 while beneath hung a large number of crosses 
 and decorations of costliest gems. Diamonds, 
 emeralds, pearls, sapphires, etc., lay around by 
 the hundred. Some of the sapphires were mar- 
 vellous, and the pink-hued amethysts exquisite. 
 There were pendants of coral and agate sur- 
 rounded by carbuncles, cut rubies and diamonds, 
 a large crucifix of Siberian Aqua Marines, and 
 an especially rich altar-cloth magnificently em- 
 broidered with pearls of various sizes, inter- 
 spersed liberally with sapphires and emeralds. 
 In one case were specimens of paper-money, and 
 among them a ten, a twenty-five, and a fifty cent 
 United States "Shinplaster." 
 
 We visited the Cathedral of the Trinity, which 
 is small, and with interior walls literally covered 
 with golden " ikons," some of which had been 
 to the wars, as they were inscribed with names 
 of battles. In one corner is the shrine of Saint 
 Sergius, a casket of solid silver beneath a four- 
 post bedstead canopy, also of silver. "They say " 
 there are nine hundred and thirty-six pounds of 
 silver in the two. The casket-lid is uplifted and 
 rich robes are visible, and through a mask of 
 costly metal is the brown nose of the saint, and 
 the people kiss it! And this is where the Grand 
 Duke came to pray with such a flourish of trum- 
 pets the day we first reached Moscow! 
 
MOSCOW AND TROITSA. 117 
 
 Under the same roof are several other chapels, 
 all ablaze with gold and decorations. Then we 
 visited the Cathedral of the Assumption, which 
 has five cupolas and two domes and an interior 
 of glittering gold. Near by stands a tall tower, 
 or belfry, three hundred feet high. It was the 
 saddest sight we ever saw, all this collection of 
 buildings and "ikons" and superstitions, and 
 this great swarm of forlorn, grotesque-looking 
 pilgrims, seeking they hardly knew what. They 
 looked so poor, so hard and brown, but evidently 
 "taking it all in," while lying around the foun- 
 tains, sitting upon the steps, walking in every 
 direction, and crowding the churches. We have 
 seen nothing more pitiful than their bowing 
 and crossing and kissing upon bended knee the 
 "ikons" and relics. They have no spiritual 
 vision beyond these inanimate pictures and 
 shrines. It is unutterably sad, and one cannot 
 help hoping that in some way different from 
 ours the great compassionate love of Christ 
 reaches down to them. 
 
 The cemeteries within this walled inclosure 
 are held in high esteem, a small plot costing five 
 thousand dollars. We saw the place where the 
 pilgrims are fed, but they were so filthy and 
 with such an odor we were satisfied with a 
 glance. None of the buildings are handsome 
 close by, for they are of stucco and washed in 
 
118 FRAGMENTARY. 
 
 gaudy colors; but a little way off, with the 
 sunlight lying full upon them, they are most 
 artistic and picturesque, and upon canvas would 
 look beautiful. From a distance, basking in the 
 sunlight, these walls and towers and gilded 
 domes and colored facades seem like an appari- 
 tion. All along the railway for miles we could 
 see these poor pilgrims going or returning, — a 
 revelation of wretchedness and degradation that 
 well-nigh obliterated all the enjoyment of the 
 day. 
 
 
FINLAND. 
 
 AN UNBECLOUDED WAY. 
 
 Our last glance at St. Petersburg was striking 
 and charming. We had taken the steamer at 
 7 o'clock in the evening, and were passing 
 rapidly down the Neva. The eastern side, with 
 its fine quays and handsome public buildings, 
 was flooded with sunlight. The great terra- 
 cotta mass of the Winter Palace, rich and 
 ruddy, was fading out of sight in tints of pale 
 and delicate pink ; the slender spire of the 
 Admiralty was a lance of flame, and the great 
 dome of St. Isaac's a sphere of burnished gold. 
 Soon we passed into the Maritime Canal, built 
 to enable the ocean-going steamers to load and 
 discharge at St. Petersburg, which the very 
 narrow channel of the Neva will not permit, 
 and then out into the Gulf of Finland. The 
 low-lying shore, because of the declining sun, 
 showed amidst the verdure many a sparkle of 
 palace and villa windows like the flash of gems 
 and the gleam of burnished gold. Among the 
 
120 AN UNBECLOUDED WAY. 
 
 trees in the distance was the long low Palace 
 of Peterhof, where we had spent snch sunny 
 hours. Upon the other hand, ahead of us, 
 against a glowing golden sky. stood out like 
 silhouettes the domes and spires of Cronstadt, 
 and a great forest of masts and shipping. 
 
 It was 9 o'clock when we came abreast of 
 this, the most important naval station of the 
 kingdom. It was alive with shipping. Great 
 basins protected by breakwaters were full of 
 naval vessels. Fortifications appeared on every 
 side. Little islands, out in the stream, were 
 covered with bristling works, while tall old- 
 fashioned forts rose directly from the waters. 
 Beyond all these defences we could see many 
 large and imposing buildings indicative of a fine 
 and important city. The red sunlight made it 
 a beautiful and fairy-like scene, long after we 
 had passed it. When the sun finally got to bed 
 Ave knew not, for at nine thirty it sank, far 
 above the horizon, into a bank of cloud, which 
 the genial captain said promised a rainy morrow. 
 But the next morning, after 8 o'clock, was clear 
 and warm. We were out upon the gulf, with 
 no sight of land, — the part of the journey which 
 like the ancient almanacs has written over it, 
 "Expect rough sea here." But fortunately for 
 us poor sailors, excepting a slight swell the 
 waters were very calm. By 10 o'clock we could 
 
ST. PETERSBURG TO STOCKHOLM. 121 
 
 discern a long low line of coast, and at 12 o'clock 
 we were moored by the wharf at Helsingfors, in 
 Russian Finland. 
 
 The approach to Helsingfors is superb, being 
 through a number of low-lying islands, seven of 
 which are covered with very strong and extensive 
 fortifications. We entered the harbor through 
 a narrow strait, between fortified islands, that 
 did not look one hundred and fifty feet wide. 
 The city makes a fine appearance from the sea, 
 and was a great surprise to us, with its villa 
 and temple crowned hill, its tall spires, stately 
 domes, and large public buildings. 
 
 As we were to remain there several hours we 
 took a cab, and for an hour and a half "just 
 drove around." It was difficult to realize that 
 we were far away in Finland, for the summer 
 villas of wood, the parks and private grounds, 
 were much like our own land. In the centre 
 of the town is a long park, kept in lawns, with 
 lovely flower-borders, with bronze statue of a 
 national poet, and music kiosk; while facing 
 it are blocks of fine business houses, hotels, and 
 apparently "flats." A stately, classic senate 
 house, a large town hall, a university with nine 
 hundred students, and a number of imposing 
 public buildings, demonstrate that it is "no mean 
 city." 
 
 One enormous pile is the church of St. Nicho- 
 
122 AN UNBECLOUDED WAY. 
 
 las, which quite suggests St. Isaac's at Peters- 
 burg, — adorned without with statues of the 
 Apostles, and within with those of Luther, 
 Melancthon, and Agricola, who translated the 
 Bible into Finnish. We were in a land of 
 religious liberty and Protestantism again! The 
 difference from Russia in the look of everything 
 is very marked. Even the plain people look 
 brighter and more intelligent. It seems more 
 like a German city, — a little Berlin. The ladies 
 look as if they had been armed and equipped 
 at Bedfern's. The air of thrift, business, and 
 prosperity is very marked, and the place, with 
 its population of fifty thousand, is altogether 
 delightful. We left, at 6 o'clock, the city and 
 fortifications, ablaze and ruddy with slanting 
 sunlight, presenting for a long way a beautiful 
 appearance. And then we entered upon a " Eoyal 
 Progress," over smooth and placid waters, along 
 an island-dotted shore, again through a regular 
 archipelago, changing every ten minutes, — 
 sometimes surrounded by low, rocky islands, 
 and again by low-lying, thickly-wooded ones. 
 
 At 9 o'clock we came into a narrow channel, 
 and for two hours it was very much like the 
 St. Lawrence and the Thousand Islands ; for 
 one moment we would be in a narrow channel, 
 apparently not more than one hundred and fifty 
 feet wide, and then we would enter a little 
 
ST. PETERSBURG TO STOCKHOLM. 123 
 
 land-locked bay, without visible outlet, and in 
 a twinkling would round a point, and catch a 
 long stretch of beautiful, river-like expanse. 
 And rarely a sign of human life! The sun set 
 at half-past nine, the lovely afterglow flushed 
 the western sky, and the moonlight grew brighter 
 and brighter. It was enchanting! But about 
 11 o'clock the wind arose, keen and cold, 
 and reluctantly we " turned in," knowing every 
 succeeding hour would be filled with wondrous 
 natural beauty. But at six the next morning 
 we were upon the deck. No word will portray 
 the scene. The air was warm and lovely, the 
 waters very calm. Soft and delicate lay the low, 
 wooded shores, — islands upon every side, and a 
 line of beauty at every glance. It was the wild 
 loneliness of the Adirondacks, the picturesque 
 confusion of the Thousand Islands, the placid 
 beauty of Lake George, and the rugged shores of 
 Mt. Desert, — all so mingled and interwoven, 
 that like the Russian brocades it was one glorious 
 sheen of gold. 
 
 As we neared Abo, all along the pretty islands 
 and rocky shores tasteful little Gothic and fanciful 
 summer villas peeped out from among the trees, 
 and it really seemed as if we must be somewhere 
 in our own land. Entering a bay, apparently 
 without outlet, we turned suddenly into a nar- 
 row, canal-like river, lined with fine stone 
 
124 AN UNBECLOUDED WAY. 
 
 quays, and double rows of trees. Again we were 
 surprised by handsome buildings, wide streets, 
 and a general expression of business alertness 
 and prosperity. We took a carriage and drove 
 to an observatory, upon a hill -top, which com- 
 manded a beautiful view over the pretty town, 
 almost buried in foliage, and way out upon the 
 waters by which we came. Then we drove to 
 the Cathedral of St. Henry, founded in 1300, 
 which was really very fine, and quite recalled 
 some of the English cathedrals, and the old 
 German Gothic edifices. It is beautifully located 
 upon a knoll and surrounded by fine old trees 
 and a park. It is of brick, and wide and homely 
 outside, but the interior, like all tall vaulted 
 Gothic buildings, is impressive and solemn, 
 although plain and rude in finish. It is called 
 the "Cradle of Christianity in Finland," for the 
 "first Episcopal chair was instituted in it." Side 
 chapels, with colored family escutcheons, and 
 quaint tombs, and a beautiful octagonal one, 
 with superb granite sarcophagus, to the memory 
 of a queen of Sweden who was a woman of the 
 people, who wedded the king, and after his 
 death and downfall retired to her native Finland 
 to die, — make the place of great interest. 
 
 At 7 o'clock we left Abo, and soon were 
 threading our glorious way through islands great 
 and small, islands of bare rock, and islands cov- 
 
ST. PETERSBURG TO STOCKHOLM. 125 
 
 ered with low growth of evergreens. The only 
 oak-trees in Finland are in this vicinity. It is 
 useless to attempt to portray the breathless beauty 
 and matchless glory of the ensuing three hours. 
 We thought the previous evening was perfect, 
 but this surpassed it. It was like sailing over a 
 great, broad lake, dotted with innumerable and 
 fairy-like islands, with waters calm and ruddy 
 and golden in the late sunlight. Sometimes we 
 would pass pleasure parties in pretty, nautical 
 dresses, and with the national colors flying ; 
 again, some vessel, "as idle as a painted ship 
 upon a painted ocean; " and at times the only 
 sign of life was the white-winged gulls and water- 
 fowls. It was so warm that supper at 9 o'clock 
 was served on deck. 
 
 The suppers and breakfasts amused us very 
 much. At one end of the table were "appe- 
 tizers," a dozen or more plates of salt and dried 
 fish, smoked and cooked cold meats, cucumbers, 
 anchovies, sardines, and "such like," and in 
 decanters all the dreadful Russian whiskey one 
 chooses to drink. There is no waiting on the 
 table. Every one takes a plate and helps him- 
 self, and the hot courses that follow alone are 
 passed. We thought the shore grew more bold 
 and rocky, but at no time was it mountainous or 
 even hilly. This low-lying line of mainland and 
 islands at times seemed tame, and it is monoto- 
 
126 AN UXBECLOUDED WAY. 
 
 nous ; but in such, weather it could never be tire- 
 some, for it never ceased to be in expression and 
 influence dreamy, poetical, and spiritual. We 
 revelled in it all till midnight. The next morn- 
 ing, from seven until twelve, nothing could have 
 been more enchanting than the tranquil waters 
 and sun-bathed shores. 
 
 For a few hours before reaching Stockholm, 
 the shores were bolder, and lovely cottages peeped 
 out from woods and shady nooks. We passed a 
 large fort and a pretty village, and then the 
 waters and shores spread out, wonderfully like 
 the Hudson, with here a costly villa, there a 
 great, grim, square, and towered castle, looming 
 up above the trees, — and everywhere beauty of 
 outline and verdure. Two or three spires in the 
 distance appeared above a mound-like island, 
 and we knew the end was drawing nigh. We 
 rounded the island, and with charming surround- 
 ings upon every side, of lovely summer villas, 
 etc., came into sight of the northern capital, and 
 ere long fine structures, palaces and churches, 
 described a semi-circle, which for exquisite 
 delicacy and beauty of effect takes rank in our 
 memory with Venice itself. Some one may come 
 along in the rain and the cold, and, missing all 
 the glory of summer seas and golden sunlight, 
 tell a very different story; but with us the half 
 has not been told. 
 
DENMARK. 
 
 THE DANISH CAPITAL. 
 
 Years ago, in the Danish department of the old 
 Crystal Palace in New York, there was an exhibit 
 of replicas in plaster of Thorwaldsen's famous 
 statues of Christ and the Apostles. Colossal in 
 size, imposing in effect, solemn in expression, 
 and grand in conception, they made an impres- 
 sion which intervening years have neither effaced 
 nor destroyed. So, as we drew near to Copen- 
 hagen, our thought was not of a characteristic old 
 city, king's palaces, or galleries of pictorial art, 
 but of the marble originals of these statues, 
 standing in the place for which they were 
 designed. We at once drove therefore to the 
 "Frue-Kirke," or "Church of our Lady," which 
 is the most ancient and best endowed church in 
 the city. Founded in the twelfth century, it 
 witnessed until 1660 the coronation of the suc- 
 cessive kings and queens. It has suffered much 
 by fire, and fearfully, in 1807, from the bombs of 
 Lord Nelson's fleet. It is a great, massive build- 
 
128 THE DANISH CAPITAL. 
 
 ing with a heavy tower, and statues of Moses 
 and David by Thorwaldsen. After the ornate 
 exteriors and gorgeous interiors of the ecclesias- 
 tical structures of the Continent, it is dull and 
 heavy, and within, cold and sombre. Thorwald- 
 sen presented in 1838 these wonderful statues, 
 and made it forever a shrine. 
 
 The interior does not seem like a church, but 
 rather a grand and majestic hall, made solemn 
 and awe-inspiring by these white and stately 
 figures. Entering, one sees at the extreme end 
 an apse, with a frieze by Thorwaldsen, repre- 
 senting the walk to Golgotha. Within this 
 semi-circle stands a pediment, supported by 
 columns framing a deep niche of dark terra-cotta 
 hue. Beneath this stands, majestic and alone, 
 the colossal figure of our Lord, with pierced out- 
 stretched hands, as if repeating his own words 
 inscribed below, " Come unto me all ye that labor 
 and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." 
 Before this stands the simple altar, or communion 
 table, and, at equal distances, four tall bronze 
 candelabra. The line of the semi-circle, or apse, 
 is continued by a massive brass balustrade, which 
 forms a large, irregular chancel, in the centre of 
 which stands Thorwaldsen's baptismal font, — 
 an angel kneeling and upholding an immense 
 shell. This spacious chancel and unusually wide 
 central aisle show the colossal figure of our 
 
COPENHAGEN. 129 
 
 Saviour with fine effect. He stands in the soft, 
 subdued light, as He always should stand in a 
 place of Christian worship, the " chief among 
 ten thousand, the one altogether lovely." 
 
 Upon either side of the long nave are seven 
 arches and six piers, supporting a recessed gal- 
 lery with a long row of heavy columns. Between 
 these arches, in front of every pier, stand the 
 statues of Paul and the eleven Apostles (Judas 
 Iscariot not being represented). The Apostles 
 were modelled by Thorwaldsen, but sculptured 
 by his pupils, the Saint Paul alone being wrought 
 by him. There is a strange solemnity and aus- 
 terity, but, at the same time, delicacy and grace, 
 about all of these silent, simply-draped figures. 
 The seraphic upturned face of Saint John seems as 
 if he is about to write upon the book he holds some 
 rapturous revelation. The Peter is heroic, but 
 with a sad, wondering look. The Saint Thomas 
 is lost in thought. Like many others, it is hard 
 work for him to believe. The ceiling is round- 
 arched and coffered, and has a slight tint of blue 
 and touch of gold. Everything else is sombre 
 and cold, perhaps intensified by all the light 
 coming from sky-lights. 
 
 After walking all around and looking carefully 
 at every statue, we went to the end of the broad 
 aisle, and gave ourselves up to the influence, 
 expression, and spirit of the scene. As we 
 
130 THE DANISH CAPITAL. 
 
 looked upon these two lines of solemn, earnest 
 faces, the words of the Te Deum — "The glori- 
 ous company of the apostles praise Thee " — 
 seemed floating in the air; but somehow the gaze 
 and thought gravitated to the distant but no 
 longer colossal figure of our Lord. The whole 
 expression of gesture, line, and feature is 
 "Come!" In the hush and stillness of the 
 grand but sombre place, looking long and intently 
 at that gentle, majestic form, — 
 
 " It seemed as if the Christ . . . 
 Had come from heaven, to track us home. 
 And any of the footsteps following us 
 Might have been His." 
 
 Leaving the church, instinctively we wended 
 our way to the Thorwaldsen Museum, a national 
 tribute to a single artist which is unequalled and 
 unsurpassed the world over. The building, con- 
 structed expressly to enshrine the plaster casts 
 and a few marble rejjlicas of his works, is a mix- 
 ture of Etruscan, Greek, and Egyptian styles, 
 and is hideous, suggesting a tomb and a reservoir. 
 Nor is the interior, with a sort of gaudy, Pompeian 
 decorations, any more attractive. But the con- 
 tents of the forty-two rooms form an epitome of 
 a life of poetic inspiration and artistic aspira- 
 tion. The two-storied building incloses an 
 oblong, open court, paved and bare, in the centre 
 of which, with a coping of polished granite, is 
 
COPENHAGEN. 131 
 
 the ivy-covered grave of him whom the nation 
 delighteth to honor. 
 
 BERTEL THORWALDSEN. 
 F. Den 19 Nov. 1770. D. Den 24 Martz 1814. 
 
 It certainly was a pretty idea to lay him there, 
 surrounded by the works of his hands, and the 
 creations of his artistic spirit; but the effect is 
 spoiled by the paved court and the encircling 
 faqades being coarsely painted with palms and 
 tropical trees. In a large room opening upon it 
 are plaster casts of the sublimest of all his crea- 
 tions, — the Christ and Apostles. One could not 
 help picturing the open court as it would be with 
 glass-protecting roof, and this one grave in the 
 centre of fadeless green, surrounded and guarded 
 by those grand and solemn attendants. At Pots- 
 dam (near Berlin), in an open cloister of the 
 church, to which is attached the mausoleum of 
 the ill-fated Emperor Frederick William, sur- 
 rounded by greensward, stands this immortal 
 Christ (in bronze), placed there by the Empress 
 Frederick, the solemnizing, subduing effect of 
 which is superb, and demonstrates what the other 
 could be made. In the rooms there is everything, 
 from a delicate bass-relief of angels, eight inches 
 long, to a colossal equestrian statue. One long 
 room is filled with colossal figures for monuments 
 and tombs. Medallions, friezes, busts, bass- 
 reliefs, and statues fill room after room. 
 
132 THE DANISH CAPITAL. 
 
 In one is his "Jason and the Golden Fleece," 
 which made his fortune, and shaped his whole 
 subsequent career. He was about leaving Rome, 
 discouraged financially, but an error in his pass- 
 port delayed him for a day or two. In the inter- 
 val, Thomas Hope, a liberal English art-patron, 
 entered his studio, saw the newly-modelled 
 Jason, and gave him an order for it in marble. 
 He took " fresh heart of grace," began a triumphal 
 career, until at last he returned to Copenhagen, 
 and was given room in the palace for the rest of 
 his life. So the son of a poor Iceland wood- 
 carver became the nation's idol and pride. In 
 one corridor is a statue of him in his seventieth 
 year, sculpturing a figure Hope. In another 
 still rests upon his modelling-stand the bust of 
 Luther, which he left unfinished. Two or three 
 rooms are filled with furniture and articles used 
 by him, — a most pathetic sight. Near by are 
 the blackened and ruined walls of the old Royal 
 Palace, destroyed, alas ! by fire in 1844. 
 
 " Men said at vespers, * All is well/ 
 In one wild night, the structure fell." 
 
 The royal family now occupy a small and 
 modest private palace. Although placed upon 
 the throne by the Powers, the king is very popu- 
 lar and much beloved. 
 
 But more charming than any modern palace is 
 the old Castle of Rosenberg, — right in the heart 
 of the city, surrounded by and adjoining a lovely 
 
COPENHAGEN. 133 
 
 park. The public park, in which is a statue of 
 that prince of story-tellers, Hans Christian 
 Andersen, is separated from it by a moat. It is 
 now a museum, in most exquisite order. It is 
 three or four stories in height, of stone, with 
 towers and bay-windows, and statues, — all very 
 quaint and picturesque. We passed through 
 some twenty-five rooms of all sorts of shapes and 
 sizes, with elaborately decorated ceilings, costly 
 fire-places and mantels, carved wood, and hang- 
 ings of rare old tapestries. The collection is 
 considered one of the finest in Europe. Cases 
 of court and historical costumes of velvet; silver 
 and gold cabinets with jewelled watches ; orders, 
 rings, brooches; numerous tankards, drinking- 
 cups, and table vessels of silver and gold; ivory 
 and amber carvings ; mosaics, rock crystal dishes ; 
 enamels of all kinds; filigree silver, and curious 
 cameos; and the greatest lot of richly-carved, 
 antique furniture, — crowd the rooms to overflow- 
 ing. Fountains, chandeliers, tables, chairs, 
 enormous andirons and screens, and countless 
 smaller articles, are all in solid silver. Dinner 
 services in ormolu and glass, rich coronation and 
 wedding robes, jewelled swords, royal plate, and 
 most costly relics of the extinct royal family, 
 fairly take the breath away. 
 
 The third floor is the knights' hall, hung with 
 costly tapestries. Here, at one end, under cano- 
 pies of crimson velvet, are the two great corona- 
 
134 THE DANISH CAPITAL. 
 
 tion-chairs. The king's is made of " Narwhale " 
 teeth, which looks like ivory, and is profusely 
 ornamented by silver-gilt statues and surmounted 
 by an enormous brilliant. That of the queen is 
 of solid silver. Before them are three enormous, 
 solid-silver lions (the insignia of Denmark), in 
 rampant and spirited attitude. Along the room 
 are tall stands for candelabra, and, at the end, the 
 royal baptismal font, all of solid silver. Two 
 adjoining rooms are piled to the ceiling, upon 
 brackets and shelves, with Murano glass, Chinese 
 porcelains, and Meissen and Danish dinner-ser- 
 vices of rare beauty. And from all this dizzying 
 and bewildering mass of costly and superb things, 
 one turns with a sense of relief and looks from 
 the windows upon the lovely surroundings. From 
 one we looked down upon a moat, bordered by 
 enormous hawthorn-trees, which from ground 
 to summit were as white as a snow-drift with 
 blossoms, — and then off upon the great forest- 
 trees, and lovely vistas of the adjoining public 
 park. 
 
 We made an excursion to "Fredericksborg," 
 an old chateau palace, about an hour from the 
 city, which has been magnificently restored, and 
 is now the " national historical museum." It 
 would take half a day to tell of its beauty of 
 aspect and situation, and the magnificence of its 
 contents. It is an imposing and extensive pile, 
 and picturesque from any standpoint. Seen from 
 
COPENHAGEN. 135 
 
 one side, the tall, picturesque pile, with its 
 quaint towers and gables, rises Venetian-like 
 from the waters like a beautiful vision. The 
 collection distributed through the rooms is 
 superb. The enclosed courts are lordly and 
 aristocratic, and the whole pile is called "the 
 most perfect thing in Europe.'' The chapel is 
 unique, with ebony and silver pulpit and altar- 
 piece, pews of exquisite "intarsia," or wood 
 mosaic, fine pictures by old masters, a carved 
 organ, painted and gilded till it looks like Dres- 
 den china, and a wild exuberance of cool gray and 
 pink and gold decorations. 
 
 At one end, and overlooking the length of it, 
 are the royal praying-rooms. The pictures in 
 the king's are inserted in the panels, surrounded 
 by inlaid wood, and are by Bloch, who is called 
 the Rubens of Denmark. Looking the length of 
 this edifice was like gazing at a perfect, flower- 
 decked bower, and the whole pile surpasses any- 
 thing we had seen in continental Europe. 
 
 A drive through the city is very charming, for 
 through one part stretches an immense basin or 
 canal, broad like a river, lined with trees and a 
 wide roadway, faced by long rows of fine build- 
 ings. Old fortifications have been demolished, 
 and a charming road laid out, shaded by double 
 rows of limes, which looks off upon the harbor, 
 and picturesque forts, and the blue sea. 
 
SWEDEN. 
 
 THE VENICE OF THE NOBTH. 
 
 A fair-faced homesick Swede at a country- 
 house upon the border of our most beautiful lake, 
 in speaking of America, exclaimed, "Oh, I luv 
 Lake George ! " Not until years afterwards, 
 when we sojourned for several days at Stock- 
 holm, did we comprehend the pertinency of the 
 exclamation, or understand the reason for its 
 intense glow; for as we floated over the placid 
 waters, passed through inlets or out into bays, 
 or encircled fairy islands, we were continually 
 reminded of our own Horicon. And yet there 
 are no mountains. It is called "The Venice of 
 the North," but it is not really like it. Still, there 
 is nothing but that fairy city by the Adriatic 
 that compares with the beautiful scene presented 
 here. It also suggests Geneva and Marseilles, 
 without markedly resembling either. Situated 
 at the " influx of Lake Maclaren into an arm of 
 the Baltic," covering rocky hills, islands, and 
 plains, and surrounded by water and islands in 
 
STOCKHOLM. 137 
 
 almost every direction, its every aspect is exceed- 
 ingly picturesque and strikingly beautiful. 
 
 It is no mean city, this metropolis of the 
 north, the capital of Sweden's kingdom, with its 
 227,000 inhabitants, its general air of comfort, 
 thrift, and refinement, and its peerless beauty of 
 situation and surrounding. We were just a little 
 surprised, for we had not anticipated such a 
 charming combination of material prosperity and 
 natural beauty. We had seen so much of con- 
 tinental Europe in mist and cloud and rain, and 
 beneath cold and cheerless skies, that it seemed 
 as if the superb and glorious weather, that lasted 
 throughout our sojourn, so accentuated every 
 point and line of beauty, that Stockholm became 
 one of the brightest, happiest, and most enjoy- 
 able memories of our whole tour. And then it 
 was June! and great masses of delicate clustered 
 lilacs, yellow laburnums, pink and white haw- 
 thorn, and pink, flowering honeysuckles waved 
 on every side. Mark Twain says "the time to 
 visit every place in Europe is the month of 
 June." Alas! that there is so much of Europe 
 and so little of June! — not enough to go around! 
 
 Our hotel was most fortunately located, for 
 the front windows commanded the most striking 
 and picturesque scene in the city. It was like 
 a composition picture, or a scene set for a spec- 
 tacular play. A line of fine buildings, palaces, 
 
138 THE VENICE OF THE NORTH 
 
 churches, etc., facing stone quays, described a 
 semi-circle which bent around the lake or bay. 
 Directly opposite us rose a bold, rocky island, 
 crowned with the extensive Royal Palace, in 
 chaste, simple, Italian style, standing boldly and 
 grandly against the sky. As we looked across 
 the waters, passing rapidly toward the Baltic, we 
 saw the gardens and front facade of this impos- 
 ing palace above a mass of surrounding buildings, 
 with a fine, double-arched bridge, connecting the 
 rocky island upon which it stands with the main- 
 land. At the base of this bridge, jutting out into 
 the waters, was a beautiful semi-circular walled 
 pleasure-ground, while in the near distance rose 
 piles of large public buildings, and graceful 
 spires. Looking in another direction, we could 
 see lovely islands, placid waters, and farther on, 
 the massive woods of the "Deer Garden," the 
 great public park of the city. As we were there 
 unexpectedly (having changed our route), we 
 found ourselves upon our arrival literally with- 
 out "purse or scrip; " so in the morning our first 
 effort was to find the bankers and get some 
 money, and a book-store and purchase a Baedaeker, 
 — the two indispensable requisites to a tourist's 
 comfort. Then we felt armed and equipped for 
 the fray, and seeing at a short distance in a line 
 before us the open portal to the court of the royal 
 palace, "in we plunged boldly, 7 ' and in a few 
 
STOCKHOLM. 139 
 
 minutes, as luck would have it, were walking 
 leisurely through the lovely family rooms of 
 their majesties. It is rarely one sees the private 
 rooms in palaces, the suites shown being usually 
 the gorgeous and showy state apartments. These 
 were cozy, comfortable, and had the impress of a 
 personal and characteristic taste. A private 
 dining-room was hung with pictures and articles 
 of silver plate, presented at the silver wedding 
 of the king in 1882. A state dining-room in oak 
 was richly decorated with clusters of brackets 
 upon the oaken panels supporting tureens, dishes, 
 and plaques of priceless old china. A little 
 coveting, where there was so much, may have 
 endangered the keeping of the commandment, 
 but it was inevitable. A cozy drawing-room 
 (looking very much as we would like ours to 
 appear) was full of tables, easy-chairs, bric-a- 
 brac, and books, one of which was "Illustrations 
 of Yellowstone Park." A charming little circular 
 room had a mantel, mirror frame, chandelier, 
 sofa, and chair frames, all of exquisitely deco- 
 rated Dresden china. In one room stood a superb 
 delicate pitcher-vase of colored enamel upon 
 copper, inlaid with jewels, which was presented 
 by the Empress Eugenie, and is insured for 
 twenty thousand dollars. In another is a tazza 
 upon an antique silver and jewelled standard, 
 valued at ten thousand dollars, — an English 
 
140 THE VENICE OF THE NORTH. 
 
 silver-wedding gift. One long, hall-like apart- 
 ment, divided in three by rich draperies, was 
 ornamented with great groups of lovely blue and 
 gold Sevres china, presented by Louis XVI., and 
 hung with portraits of Hortense and Eugene 
 Beauharnais, and other members of that family. 
 There was a superb buhl cabinet, which once 
 belonged to Marie Antoinette, and upon the 
 piano lay a Persian rug, like an India shawl in 
 design, and velvet in finish and texture, which is 
 valued at five thousand dollars, and was pre- 
 sented by the Sultan. There were also a large 
 number of paintings given by Xapoleon to 
 Josephine. We were caught napping ! VTe 
 were there unexpectedly, and had not "read up," 
 and so could not understand how so many por- 
 traits and mementos of that family came there. 
 The guide could only say "marriage," and faith- 
 ful Baedaeker said nothing. Long afterward we 
 learned that the daughter of Eugene Beauharnais, 
 the son of Josephine, became by marriage the 
 Queen of Sweden. 
 
 The simplicity and domesticity of the present 
 royal family is charmingly shown in the family 
 sitting-room, which is full of photographs of 
 children, grandchildren, and relatives, and in 
 "my lady's chamber," where, with the rich fur- 
 nishings, are many illuminated cards with texts, 
 some of the loveliest of which are in English. A 
 
STOCKHOLM. 141 
 
 few small, pretty rooms complete the suite. The 
 king is said to possess very decided literary, 
 musical, and scientific tastes, and is a wise and 
 well-beloved ruler. The palace, which is four 
 hundred and eight by three hundred and eighty- 
 one feet, encloses a large, rectangular court. 
 Across this we trudged to the opposite end, and 
 ascended to the state apartments, some ten or 
 twelve sumptuously and gorgeously appointed 
 rooms, decorated with old tapestries, rich drape- 
 ries, pictured panels, and a sheen of mirrors and 
 gold. The banqueting hall, called the "White 
 Sea," was very novel, being one hundred and 
 forty feet long, and entirely in white and gold. 
 The windows all commanded lovely and pictur- 
 esque views over the city and suburbs. Ascend- 
 ing a staircase, another suite of eight guest-rooms 
 was shown, with exquisite bits of historical 
 furniture. 
 
 A few blocks away is the "Kiddarholm Kyrka," 
 or church, where for centuries the members of 
 the royal family and distinguished Swedes have 
 been buried. It has not been used for service 
 since 1807, except upon the occasion of a royal 
 interment. It is a queer-looking pile, being a 
 Gothic church, surrounded by chapels of a differ- 
 ent style, and having a tall, open-work spire of 
 iron. The interior is very curious, being rudely 
 finished, with the side walls covered with a 
 
142 THE VENICE OF THE NORTH. 
 
 patchwork of square escutcheons, with crests of 
 all the defunct "Knights of the Seraphim," with 
 here and there groups of captured battle-flags. 
 In the side chapels are very beautiful sarcophagi. 
 An immense one of green marble contains the 
 body of the great Gustavus Adolphus; another, 
 of black, with brass ornaments of lion skin and 
 crown, that of Charles XII., and a massive one 
 of red porphyry, that of Charles XV. Beneath 
 these chapels in large, open rooms stand the 
 royal coffins, covered with red, purple, and black 
 velvet. The room now used is ceiled, walled, 
 and paved with white and yellow crown-tiles. 
 The velvet, gilt, and metals were very fresh, and 
 the later caskets were covered with fresh flowers. 
 Beside one stood a large copper urn, and on top 
 of the casket a smaller one. When the old 
 woman attendant was asked what they were, she 
 screwed up her face and putting one hand on the 
 large one, rubbed her other hand over her 
 stomach. Then she pointed at the other and 
 laid her hand on her heart. We understood as 
 well as if Swedish was our vernacular, and it 
 was irresistibly funny. 
 
 Close to our hotel, facing the water, was the 
 King's Garden, a pretty little park, with hand- 
 some lawns, ribbon and mosaic flower-borders, 
 and several bronze statues. We found all through 
 the city numerous little parks and pleasure- 
 
STOCKHOLM. 143 
 
 grounds, with a profusion of flowers and shrub- 
 bery. We recall no city of its size with so many 
 delightful " breathing-places." 
 
 Facing the water also is the National Museum, 
 a fine and imposing structure finished in 1865. 
 The gallery of paintings compared with the col- 
 lections we have so recently visited seemed 
 inferior ; yet there were many paintings, espe- 
 cially the modern Swedish ones, we would have 
 been the poorer not to have seen. An extensive, 
 varied, and superb collection of ceramics fills 
 several large rooms, running the gamut in styles 
 and colors, from Moorish Spanish to modern 
 Sevres, and including the work of about every 
 nation. Then there is an interesting and in- 
 structive collection of antique Swedish furniture 
 and interior carvings, and also a fine museum of 
 Swedish antiquities of the flint, bronze, and iron 
 ages. In the sculpture rooms was the loveliest 
 "Sleeping Endymion " imaginable, which was 
 found in Hadrian's Villa, that marvellous treasure- 
 house at Tivoli. Somehow, in a moment, we 
 were no longer in Sweden, but among the violets 
 and anemones that star and deck that wreck and 
 ruin of a wondrous past. But after all, the 
 greatest charm of Stockholm is the large number 
 of delightful excursions by land and water in 
 every direction, which may be taken for almost 
 nothing. Small steam-launches dart rapidly to 
 
144 THE VENICE OF THE NOHTH. 
 
 and fro incessantly, while larger boats leave at 
 longer intervals. As we had approached from 
 the sea, we took only one of the longer excur- 
 sions, that to "Drottning-holm," about three 
 quarters of an hour away. It was a lovely trip, 
 past closely-wooded and rocky shores, dotted 
 with villas. The name signifies "Queen's gar- 
 den island." A few moments' walk, and we 
 stood before a quaint old palace. It is said to 
 be sumptuously fitted up ; but we looked toward 
 the garden and the cool, sequestered park, and 
 said we were tired of the likes of the former, and 
 hungry and thirsty for the latter, and so saun- 
 tered along the avenues formed by grand old 
 trees, and looked off upon billowy lawns, with 
 Chinese pagoda and other structures. It was a 
 picture of delicious quiet and repose, and it was 
 good to be there. The day of our departure was 
 the Midsummer Holiday, the longest day in the 
 year. We took a four-hour drive, back in the 
 country, visiting Carlberg Castle, and seeing its 
 lovely park, — then to Solna Church, one of the 
 most ancient in Sweden. It was very curious, 
 being a circular, central structure with aisle and 
 choir opposite in a straight line. Fine old black 
 and white marble tombs, gayly painted and 
 gilded, carved escutcheons, and quaint old chan- 
 deliers and hour-glasses on the pulpit, made the 
 interior very interesting. It was in the centre 
 
STOCKHOLM. 145 
 
 of a beautiful cemetery, the most aristocratic in 
 Stockholm. Many of the memorials were in- 
 scribed with a duplicate of the person's auto- 
 graph. Then we drove on to the Park and Palace 
 of Hague, which was also very beautiful, and 
 further on to the Park and Palace of Ulriesdael, 
 close to a pretty arm of the Baltic. This last 
 was a fine chateau, and is filled with old furni- 
 ture, portraits, etc. The park is exquisite, 
 having fine old trees, a wilderness of wild-flow- 
 ers, and one grand and lovely avenue. 
 
 This gives but faint idea of the beauty of 
 Stockholm's suburbs; for constantly are seen 
 stretches of water with low, wooded shores, 
 sometimes like little rivers, but oftener like 
 mountain lakes, which in the full verdure and 
 floral display of June is perfect. As we returned 
 we drove the whole length of the Deer Garden, 
 the park of the city, a beautiful, rolling expanse, 
 with unusually picturesque old oaks and forest- 
 trees, and many lovely glimpses of water. It 
 was a holiday. All the shops were closed and 
 factories stopped, and it seemed as if every man, 
 woman, and child was out. It made these parks 
 bright with picturesque groups; for under the 
 trees, upon every knoll, by the cool waters, and 
 covering the hillside, were little family parties, 
 with hammocks, baby-wagons, and provisions. 
 Occasionally a bright national costume gave a 
 
 VOL II. — 10 
 
146 THE VENICE OF THE NORTH. 
 
 touch of acceptable color; and it did one good to 
 see how bright and happy the people appeared. 
 As later we moved rapidly away upon the train 
 in the cool of the evening twilight, and looked 
 back at our stay, we felt we could reiterate (with 
 slight variation) very truthfully the maiden's 
 ejaculation by our beautiful lake, " Oh, I luv — ■ 
 Stockholm! " 
 
Bellagio. 
 
ITALY. 
 
 AN EDEN OF TO-DAY. 
 
 It is well-nigh impossible to speak in extrav- 
 agant terms of the extreme beauty of the Italian 
 Lake district in summer time. Eor from the 
 head of Lake Como, along the length of Lake 
 Lugano, and to the extremity of Lake Maggiore, 
 is most emphatically in nature a " linked sweet- 
 ness long drawn out." Perhaps this wondrous 
 stretch of dreamy outline, of poetic expression, 
 and of delicious color may be equalled; but, 
 surely, all the broad world o'er, it cannot be sur- 
 passed. The lakes are small, according to our 
 American ideas; but all Europe seems contracted 
 and diminutive to one accustomed to thinking of 
 the space between Portland and San Francisco 
 and Lake Superior and St. Augustine as "our 
 country." Como boasts only of about thirty 
 miles, every rood of which, however, is of trans- 
 cendent loveliness, when clothed in summer 
 verdure and trembling in delicious haze. 
 
148 AN EDEN OF TO-DAY. 
 
 Lugano is hemmed in by mountains so lofty 
 and irregular that there is a.n air of wildness and 
 loneliness quite unlike, but none the less fasci- 
 nating or bewitching than, the others. But 
 Maggiore is a monotonous stretch of some thirty- 
 seven miles of matchless and exquisite loveliness 
 of form and color, that bewilders and intoxicates 
 and fairly wearies with its absolute perfection. 
 
 It was late in the afternoon of a sultry August 
 day when we took the little steamer at the head 
 of Lake Como. The cooling shadows of the 
 western hills lay upon the placid waters, while 
 the mountains upon the other shore were steeped 
 and saturated with glowing sunshine and exqui- 
 site color. And for an hour or two we floated 
 along on our way to Bellagio, touching at several 
 of the picturesque villages along the shore. The 
 air was so soft and balmy, the outline of the 
 mountains against the sky so tender, the color 
 and the sheen of the great irregular slopes so 
 exquisite, the tall campaniles along the shore 
 and in villages which dotted the mountain-sides 
 so white and pearly, the waters so delicate, that 
 it seemed like a dream or realization of fairy- 
 land. " Sunny Italy at last ! " we repeatedly ex- 
 claimed, as we looked at the wealth of verdure, 
 the shadow-flecked white walls and roads, and 
 the picturesque features of the country life. The 
 larger villages at which we touched were gor- 
 
THE ITALIAN LAKES. 149 
 
 geous and resplendent with pink oleanders of 
 enormous size, flowering shrubs, countless flower- 
 borders, and exquisite trailing and pendant 
 vires. At one place a child's funeral was 
 about to take place. Some twenty little girls, 
 dressed in white, with long flowing veils, and 
 holding tall candles, waited near the church 
 porch, whila a little platform car, with canopy, 
 all of white and profusely ornamented with gar- 
 lands of lovely flowers, and drawn by two tiny 
 ponies, was being hurried to the scene. It was 
 like a picture by Breton. And then, the numer- 
 ous and pretty villas, half buried in the cool 
 green of walnut and chestnut groves high above 
 the waters, and the constant shifting of the 
 scene, by the changing course of the steamer, 
 was kaleidoscopic, and like a succession of bril- 
 liant gems and jewels. The weather was perfect, 
 and all nature seemed one glad, exultant, and 
 contented song. 
 
 The scenery of Lake Como cannot be under- 
 stood by any comparisons. It may in a certain 
 scene suggest some portions of the Highlands of 
 the Hudson, and in another, lovely and peaceful 
 Lake George, — and yet it is not the counterpart 
 of either. Irregular in shape; hemmed in, 
 almost everywhere, by lofty, graceful, moss- 
 covered, and gray mountains; with white Italian 
 villages of square, flat-roofed buildings, and tall, 
 
150 AN EDEN OF TO-DAY. 
 
 square campaniles, rising solitary and alone, like 
 a single finger pointing upwards; with every 
 variety of mountain outline, and every shade of 
 living green, — it possesses an individuality all its 
 own. JSTo one word expresses its peculiar charm 
 and expression as comprehensively as " loveli- 
 ness." The green waters are like a priceless 
 jewel, set in a verdant enamel. Along the 
 mountain-sides are seams and fissures, which, as 
 the sun strikes aslant, cast deep shadows, and 
 give the whole sweep an appearance of burnished 
 and greenish bronze. 
 
 At seven o'clock we reached Bellagio, most 
 charmingly located upon a bold promontory which 
 divides the lake into two arms or bays, called 
 respectively the Lakes of Lecco and Como. Our 
 windows looked upon beautiful and spacious 
 grounds, a mosaic of flower-beds and lawns, 
 interspersed with stately palms, magnificent ever- 
 greens, and numerous flowering shrubs. A bank 
 at one end, and another in the rear of the hotel, 
 were well-nigh obscured by a mass of pink and 
 blue hydrangeas, and a wealth of trailing roses, 
 a "sight to behold." Beyond the lovely grounds 
 lay the lake, mirror-like in surface and bril- 
 liancy, and on its opposite shore the glittering 
 white hotels, villas, and houses of Menaggio, 
 Cadeimbbia, and Tremezzo, at the foot of the 
 lofty, green mountains. 
 
THE ITALIAN LAKES. 151 
 
 A little way to our left lay the white village 
 of Bellagio. Pleasure-boats, with awnings and 
 gay flags, floated, to and fro; away in the dis- 
 tance the mountains towered range beyond range 
 into the sky, and an atmosphere of profound 
 peace and quiet brooded over the scene, and 
 filled the mind and heart. 
 
 In the cool of the early morning the outlook 
 was a heavenly vision of peace that "passeth 
 understanding/' — a leading, indeed, "by still 
 waters and green pastures " rarely experienced 
 in any scene. And even when the full glare of 
 the noonday sun made it one blaze of gold, 
 scarcely relieved by shadow, it did not lose its 
 heavenly peace and beauty. Long will that out- 
 look, so absolutely perfect and profoundly beau- 
 tiful, so cool and refreshing to the body, and 
 so peace-giving and restful to the soul, linger 
 in our memory. There is much "to do" at 
 Bellagio, if one enjoys beautiful grounds and 
 lovely views from elevated points ; for all 
 around upon the hillsides are villas and ter- 
 raced gardens, and along the shore numerous 
 places of interest. 
 
 We passed a delightful morning in a visit 
 to the "Villa Carlotta," upon the opposite shore, 
 — the property of a German princeling. Across 
 the placid waters we were silently rowed in a 
 barge protected by a canopy, enjoying exquisite 
 
152 AN EDEN OF TO-DAY. 
 
 views of all the encircling hills, as well as the 
 bolder and grander ranges beyond the Lecco arm 
 of the lake. Too soon we reached a little land- 
 ing-place, opposite which were tall, stone gate- 
 posts, and lofty and handsome wrought- iron 
 gates, all intertwined and picturesque with rose 
 and other vines, which wreathed and well-nigh 
 obscured the stone cherubs lifted in the air upon 
 the posts, as upon pedestals. 
 
 The villa is a straight up-and-down affair of 
 four stories, built upon a terrace, quite above 
 the shore, and approached within the gates by 
 zig-zag stairways of stone, all enveloped with 
 roses and vines and exquisite pendant ferns. 
 From the balustrades hung great masses of coral- 
 like bloom, and lovely, riotous clusters of roses, 
 etc., hugged the sides of the walls. Only the 
 first story of the villa is shown, — a hall, or ves- 
 tibule, and two spacious salons. 
 
 It was a vision of Italy, the Italy of story and 
 song, presented by these cool and lofty rooms, 
 with outlook through windows, along vistas of 
 light and shadow, and glimpses of magnificent 
 surroundings, basking in the full, bright sun- 
 light. It was very hot without, but deliciously 
 cool and refreshing within. The vestibule has 
 a grand and costly frieze of the "Triumph of 
 Alexander," by Thorwaldsen, which cost seventy- 
 five thousand dollars, and several beautiful 
 
THE ITALIAN LAKES. 153 
 
 statues by Canova. At one end stands his won- 
 drous group of "Cupid and Psyche/' peerless, 
 like the bronzed Mercury of John of Bologna,, in 
 the Florentine Bargello, for its purity, delicacy, 
 and spirituality of expression, and its airy grace 
 and aerial lightness of limb and feature. It is 
 the embodiment of passionless adoration and sur- 
 render, of perfect grace and refined delicacy, and 
 a miracle of technical workmanship in every 
 detail. It does not seem possible that these two 
 figures, so charmingly intertwined, can be sculp- 
 tured from a solid block of adamant. Should 
 they separate and float silently and quietly into 
 the air, it would seem only natural, and occasion 
 no surprise. It is a marvellous "triumph of 
 mind over matter; " of lofty genius over the 
 limitation of unyielding stone. One is filled 
 with wonder that man dared to try to liberate it 
 from a great, unshapely block of rough marble. 
 The wings are joined on to the figure of Cupid, 
 but all of the rest — the graceful limbs, the 
 wonderful hands, the lithe and delicate forms — 
 are cut from a single block. 
 
 We tarried long in the surrounding grounds, a 
 paradise of beauty, an arboretum of innumerable 
 choice trees and exquisite shrubs, all rollicking 
 and luxuriating in the hot Italian sunshine, as if 
 it was a joy to live. At one side the grounds 
 are arranged in the old-fashioned Italian style, 
 
154 AN EDEN OF TO-DAY. 
 
 with terraces, long, over-arched, and shaded alley- 
 ways, and a charming bower, looking out through 
 vistas of cool, overhanging boughs of evergreens, 
 upon the gleaming lake and the lovely "other 
 shore." Along the terrace walls great showers 
 of fuchsia blossoms trembled; around statue or 
 column entwined huge masses of a species of 
 "trumpet creeper," throwing out into the air 
 graceful sprays of gorgeous flowers; roses in 
 wild, exultant profusion hung upon every side; 
 while a great variety of coniferous trees, great, 
 glowing magnolias, and glistening laurels and 
 rhododendrons appeared in groups, or long, cool 
 vistas. The luxuriance of foliage and variety 
 of growth was tropical and jungle-like in charac- 
 ter and appearance. Close to the villa stands a 
 superb and enormous magnolia, said to be over a 
 hundred years old, with an immense trunk, and 
 long, outstretching branches, which, lying upon 
 the ground, form the base of a huge, conical 
 pyramid of great, glossy leaves and beautiful 
 seed-pods, which towers high in air. To see this 
 in full bloom would alone be worth the journey 
 over the Alps. 
 
 Upon the opposite side, the grounds are a per- 
 fect contrast, being in the English style, with 
 the trees and shrubs in groups, and the arrange- 
 ment less formal and conventional. Great, 
 beautifully-developed evergreens of immense 
 
THE ITALIAN LAKES. 155 
 
 variety, and fine trees of almost every species, 
 rise from grassy banks ; hillsides are covered in 
 some places with close growth of azaleas, and 
 roses and flowers of every kind glow with colors 
 brilliant and beautiful. Great lush-red roses 
 appear in huge clusters up in the branches of 
 dark evergreens. Ferns, cyclamen, ivy, and 
 countless plants appear upon every side as if 
 spontaneously. And as if this wondrous variety 
 of hillside, trees, flowers, and shrubs was not 
 enough, continually through the thick-matted 
 or low-bending tree-boughs views rapturously 
 beautiful of the peaceful lake and the verdant, 
 graceful hills appear. Myrtles, glistening and 
 green in foliage, entwined with roses, white and 
 rare, delight the eye. And as we neared the 
 villa again we passed beneath a bower covered 
 with growth of lemon and citron, with golden 
 fruit pendant from the trellis roof. Eeluctantly 
 we turned away from this miniature Eden, 
 and, crossing the lake, awaited the afternoon, 
 which was to furnish us with a boat-excursion 
 to Como. 
 
 A boat-ride of two and one half hours, with 
 such surroundings of form and color as are seen 
 between Bellagio and Como, is not to be spoken 
 of lightly. Yet words fail to picture the loveli- 
 ness and grace of that wondrous panorama of 
 hill and mountain side, of soft, delicious color, 
 
156 AN EDEN OF TO-DAY. 
 
 and of dreamy visions of heavenly peace and 
 rest. 
 
 The scenery of the lake does not vary. What 
 is said about one part applies literally to all. 
 The same lofty green and gray mountains upon 
 every side, and the same little villages along the 
 shore, or perched upon shelves upon the moun- 
 tain-sides, and the same placid, glistening, green 
 waters, are everywhere visible. At times the 
 rounded heads of the mountains, lifted high in 
 air, were so closely clothed in verdure as to 
 appear as if covered with moss, or as a gentleman 
 by us remarked, as " if they had had their hair 
 cut." 
 
 Many of the most picturesque villas with 
 lovely grounds, colonnades, etc., and many of 
 the most important towns and huge palatial 
 hotels, lie along this enchanted way. We found 
 Como fairly broiling in the afternoon sun, and 
 contented ourselves with a stroll through the 
 cool, shadowy arcades of its narrow streets, and 
 a visit to the duomo, or cathedral. It is a queer 
 architectural mixture, within and without; but 
 with its marble exterior and sculpturings, its 
 elaborate ceiling, and stately dome, it is con- 
 sidered the best in Northern Italy. Statues of 
 the older and the younger Pliny (who were born 
 at Como) adorn the front of the cathedral, upon 
 either side of the main portal. A statue of Volta, 
 
THE ITALIAN LAKES. 157 
 
 the great electrician (whose name, however, is 
 much more firmly perpetuated in the "volts " of 
 to-day), stands near the quay. 
 
 The situation of the busy little town with 
 twenty-five thousand inhabitants is beautiful, as 
 it is encircled by an amphitheatre of mountains 
 and hills. But the heat was so intense we were 
 glad to take the steamer again, which soon 
 brought us into the cool, delicious shadows of the 
 lofty mountains; and we passed on through miles 
 of tremulous haze, and atmosphere of intoxicat- 
 ing peace, to Bellagio. An hour or two later the 
 white moonlight gave the last perfecting touch 
 to the serene and heavenly beauty of the scene 
 from our windows. 
 
 Alas ! that there should be no rest for the sole 
 of the tourist's foot ! Although, like many 
 another, very often his " willing soul would stay 
 in such a frame as this," yet if he ever expects 
 to get through Europe, he must " forever on, 
 like seaweed tossed." And we were no excep- 
 tion to the inexorable rule. 
 
 In the cool of the early morning we crossed 
 the lake to Menaggio, where we took a narrow- 
 gauge road, and ascended the hillside rapidly, 
 having exquisite views as we looked down upon 
 the waters, and across upon Bellagio, and to the 
 mountain-ranges beyond. The road bent and 
 curved through a charming country upon a hill- 
 
158 AN EDEN OF TO-DAY, 
 
 side, overlooking at times a pretty, inland valley, 
 and passing through a long tunnel, reached its 
 highest elevation of twelve hundred and fifty feet. 
 
 In an hour we had descended and were upon 
 the shore of Lake Lugano. It is none the less 
 beautiful than Como, but as it is wilder it is 
 more grand, solitary, and impressive. The 
 mountains are often higher, and it seems more 
 withdrawn and reserved. Como seems to laugh 
 with exultant and exuberant life, while Lugano 
 seems wrapped in earnest and solemn thought 
 and purpose. For an hour we passed picture 
 after picture along its wild and lonely mountain 
 shore; and then, suddenly rounding a point, we 
 came into a bright and lovely bay, upon the oppo- 
 site shore of which, far away, appeared the tiled 
 roofs and tall campaniles of the little village of 
 Lugano, — a beautiful surprise. 
 
 A wait of two hours, and we took another 
 steamer and journeyed the length of the lake, 
 looking back at the villa-dotted environs of 
 Lugano, and up to the summit of San Salvatore 
 (the loftiest mountain of all), which, from our 
 constant turning into deep bays to make land- 
 ings, seemed placed before us in an infinite 
 variety of form, and at most unexpected moments. 
 It was marvellous in its cloudlike softness and 
 delicacy of form and outline. At one place a 
 railway embankment crosses an arm of the lake. 
 
THE ITALIAN LAKES. 159 
 
 The smoke pipe was lowered as we passed beneath 
 arches in the centre. We made two or three 
 landings and then entered a narrow river- like 
 strait, and soon reached "Ponte Tresa," where 
 we disembarked, and again (after a vexatious 
 customs examination) took a narrow-gauge road, 
 and, ascending, passed through a fertile and busy 
 valley, close to a rushing and picturesque river, 
 until we came to Luino on Lake Maggiore. 
 There we took a steamer for thirty-seven to forty 
 miles progress through all that constitutes love- 
 liness and beauty of scenic effect. Its greater 
 width (varying from two to five miles) makes 
 the views finer and grander than the other lakes. 
 One is far enough away to take in the whole 
 effect of the mountain-ranges, while the same 
 delicious stillness and enchanted colorings of the 
 others brood and rest upon it. 
 
 It seems more like our country in that the 
 views are so far outreaching and extensive. 
 Along the sloping shores the villages glisten and 
 gleam; often a wall-protected road is seen, hug- 
 ging the base of forbidding mountains; and all 
 the features of Como and Lugano, and often 
 those of Switzerland, pass before the eye. It is 
 a dream, a vision, a scene which surpasses all 
 that imagination can conjure. The lake is so 
 wide that one can look long and dwell upon its 
 wondrous surroundings. At first the glare and 
 heat were tiresome, for the sun was not hidden 
 
160 AN EDEN OF TO-DAY. 
 
 as early as upon lovely Como. But as the day 
 wore on, the low-descending sun bathed the dis- 
 tant mountains in tints of blue and purple, which 
 against a soft, yellow, glowing sky produced an 
 exquisite effect. An hour or more later, as we 
 rounded a cape, far away against the glowing 
 western sky appeared the snowy crests of the 
 Simplon, and others of the Monte Eosa Alpine 
 group ; and all the rest of the way before us was 
 this wondrous spectacle of warm summer sea, 
 green mountain heights, dark, grim Alpine 
 mountains, and these lofty peaks, seamed and 
 ribbed with lines of white, raising their snowy 
 crests against a glory of deep orange, melting 
 amber, and liquid gold. 
 
 In the gathering hush of evening, as we neared 
 the end of the lake, the Borromean Islands, float- 
 ing like gardens unanchored and unconfined, 
 appeared in view. A stop at Pallanza and 
 Baveno, a gliding across smooth waters, and we 
 were at Stresa, and the long, golden day was 
 done. It was the evening of the Festa of the 
 Assumption of the Virgin, and from various hill- 
 tops bonfires glowed, and the little villages upon 
 far-away mountain-slopes were a blaze of twink- 
 ling lights. Across the bay came often the 
 soft tinkle of distant bells, in far-away white 
 campaniles. 
 
 The view from Stresa is superb, sweeping a 
 wondrous panorama of Alps upon Alps; of moun- 
 
THE ITALIAN LAKES. 1G1 
 
 tains, billowy in outline, shadowy and tender in 
 color, of wide expanse; of glistening, shimmer- 
 ing waters; of the pretty Borromean Islands, 
 like bits of fairyland lying upon the smooth 
 bosom of the lake; across the bay the town of 
 Pallanza; and here and there, upon the heights 
 beyond, the white gleam of villas or villages. 
 Until these Italian towns are seen basking and 
 revelling in the hot, noonday, summer sun, no 
 real conception of the ideal beauty of the white- 
 walled, red-roofed piles can be gained. They 
 seem to absorb the sun, and in its delicious 
 warmth stand out like a soft, tropical flow^er. 
 
 Early the next morning we took a row-boat, 
 for three or four hours, among the islands. 
 They number four, bat only two belong to and 
 bear the name of the Borromeo family. Quite 
 near to the Stresa shore floats the lovely Isola 
 Bella, like a hanging-garden of Babylon, with 
 terraced gardens, rising in pyramidal form, with 
 ornaments of statues and turrets suggesting a 
 pagan temple or place of worship. From our 
 windows nothing could be more fairy-like or 
 artificial; for all we see rising from the waters 
 are arches and terraces, two octagonal towers, 
 and a group of great sombre evergreens. It 
 fairly floats, and if unmoored might drift most 
 naturally away, an argosy of bright and beautiful 
 things. But beyond and hidden is a church, a 
 
 VOL. II. — 11 
 
162 AN EDEN OF TO-DAY. 
 
 group of houses, and a large and commodious 
 palace. In the seventeenth century a count of 
 Borromeo built a chateau there, and converted 
 the barren rock into a "midsummer night's 
 dream," making some ten terraces, one above 
 another, graduated in size, and rising a hundred 
 feet above the lake, and stocked it with "lemons, 
 cedars, magnolias, laurels, camphor, cork, olean- 
 ders, and other southern trees;" and now, for 
 two hundred years, the desert place has blos- 
 somed like the rose. 
 
 We passed through the palace (in which 
 Napoleon slept after Marengo) and hurried to 
 the fairy-like terraces. The wonderful variety 
 of trees, flowers, and shrubs would make any 
 place delightful. Upon the first great terrace 
 was an immense camphor tree, with long, glossy 
 leaves (no odor but a very decided flavor), and 
 twenty enormous oleanders, brilliant with thou- 
 sands of great pink blossoms. We smiled as we 
 thought of those we see at home . in pots and 
 boxes, and call large, for these were twelve and 
 fifteen feet in height and fully twelve in dia- 
 meter. Stone stairways lead to each of the nar- 
 row terraces which form a pyramid, the highest 
 one making a pleasant promenade with superb 
 outlook over land and water. Ivies and japoni- 
 cas, roses and bignonia grandiflora, cover the 
 terrace walls, wreathe the rude statuettes and 
 turrets, and hang in great, voluptuous masses 
 
THE ITALIAN LAKES. 163 
 
 of color and blossom which wave to and fro with 
 every breeze. Vulgar and artificial though it is, 
 the wealth of foliage and wilderness of blossom 
 make it a veritable paradise. Upon a broad, 
 lovely terrace to one side are a number of great 
 evergreens, including some "American Pines," of 
 great size. It was all like a play, a story, or a 
 poem. Pictures formed themselves at every 
 turn, — in the arches, mantled with ivy or trail- 
 ing vines, or the stone staircases or balustrades, 
 wreathed with floral bloom or green boughs, — 
 while the views toward Pallanza and over the 
 lake were enchanting. White jasmine bloomed 
 upon every side; great white and blush roses 
 seemed everywhere; peacocks, in an immense 
 evergreen, made a picturesque feature, while the 
 soft plumage of doves could be seen in overhang- 
 ing boughs, and their soft cooing continually 
 heard. All the while the sun glowed and burned ; 
 but the breeze was cool and refreshing, and the 
 infinite variety of branch and twig, of leaf and 
 flower, made us indifferent. It seemed as if the 
 wealth of a tropical clime was at our feet, and 
 enveloped us in a glory of form and color. 
 
 A row of fifteen minutes brought us to Isola 
 Madre, laid out in seven great, broad, matter- 
 of-fact terraces, upon one side covered with 
 orange and lemon trellises. A large, homely, 
 unoccupied palace crowns the upper terrace; but 
 
164 AN EDEN OF TO-DAY. 
 
 the rest of the island is like a bit of England, 
 with its undulating surface, ornamented with 
 winding paths and groups of trees, effective and 
 beautiful. Here, too, we would come upon 
 shaded nooks where, by a handsome iron rail, 
 one might sit and look off upon a view framed in 
 most exquisitely by low-hanging vines and 
 boughs. Flowers and vines and shrubs, ever- 
 greens of endless variety, and a grand collection 
 of rare trees, make it a beautiful spot. The out- 
 look from these islands is something wonderful, 
 — full of grandeur, yet soft and dreamy. One 
 gazes upon warm and sunny waters; farther on, 
 upon sombre hills, and then upon the glaciers 
 and white peaks of Simplon; and to one side 
 upon the great, glittering, white granite rocks 
 of Baveno, and upon the other, over Pallanza, and 
 the lower hillsides, covered with chestnut, fig, 
 and olive trees, studded with a myriad of white, 
 pearl-like villas, — a marvellous combination of 
 alpine and southern characteristics, of snow and 
 wild luxuriant verdure, and of stern grandeur 
 and soft, sensuous loveliness of outline and color. 
 Was it a wonder we called this whole Italian 
 Lake country a paradise, "an Eden of to-day " ? 
 The trail of the serpent doubtless could be 
 easily found ; but we looked not for it, and so 
 were conscious neither of its presence nor its 
 blight. 
 
THE BRIDE OF THE SEA. 
 
 Hackneyed and commonplace as they may be, 
 no lines hold more of the subtle charm and pecu- 
 liar fascination of Venice than — 
 
 " There is a glorious city in the sea : — 
 The sea is in the broad, — the narrow streets, 
 Ebbing and flowing; and the salt sea-weed 
 Clings to the marble of her palaces." 
 
 Mystical and weird, spectral and dreamlike, 
 the beautiful fairy-like city rises from the 
 waters, and so floats upon the surface that, like 
 the mists of the valley, it seems as if it will dis- 
 appear at the approach of the God of day. Its 
 character is unique ! All the world over, there 
 is nothing like unto it. The more, therefore, is 
 it to be regretted that it is the victim of remorse- 
 less decay. Years ago we reached the railway 
 station (a long way from the hotels) at midnight. 
 The moon was at the full ; the air was soft and 
 balmy. For a little time we had seen in the dis- 
 tance, floating apparently in the delicious haze, 
 the outlines of domes and towers and palace 
 roofs, touched as if with burnished silver. Sit- 
 ting in a gondola, we passed silently through 
 
166 THE BRIDE OF THE SEA. 
 
 wide, narrow, and tortuous canals, — the mystic 
 
 streets of the phantom-like city. Not a sound 
 
 save the calls of our own or an approaching 
 
 gondolier, — ■ 
 
 " We went 
 As to a floating city, steering in, 
 And gliding up lier streets, as in a dream, 
 So smoothly, silently, by many a dome, 
 Mosque-like, and many a stately portico." 
 
 It was the Venice of poetry, song, and pictorial 
 art. Never have we forgotten the suppressed 
 excitement and delight of that hour, which was 
 so keen as to be well-nigh painful. The quiet, 
 shimmering waters, the silvery light, the ebon 
 shadows, and the fairy-like outlines of rich, 
 Gothic facades, formed a scene of enchantment 
 that made every poetic and artistic sense vibrate 
 with delight. Again, in these later years, we 
 entered by the same portals upon a warm, sunny 
 afternoon. Copious showers, early in the day, 
 had freshened every fagade. As silently, but 
 quite as excitedly, we passed along canals grand 
 and diminutive, — 
 
 "By many a pile, in more than eastern pride 
 Of old, the residence of merchant kings ; 
 The fronts of some, tho' Time had shattered them, 
 Still glowing with the richest hues of art, 
 As though the wealth within them had run o'er." 
 
 But the dethroned Queen is very much like the 
 little girl with a curl, — 
 
VENICE. 167 
 
 " Who when she was good was very, very good, 
 But when she was bad she was horrid." 
 
 For Venice in a drizzling rain, in cold, raw, 
 leaden weather, tells no flattering tale. Veil it 
 as we may, her glory is departed to come not 
 back again. The numberless narrow canals, so 
 picturesque when bathed in glorious sunlight or 
 silvery moonlight, are gloomy, dingy, and for- 
 bidding, and have a general air of debility, rheu- 
 matism, and forlornness only found or approached 
 in a public charity-hospital. And the grand and 
 delicately-designed Gothic facades, all bedrag- 
 gled and discolored and marred and disfigured by 
 decay, are sad and pathetic in their desolation 
 in the rain. But the traveller, if he would enjoy 
 much of Europe, must adopt the legend upon the 
 sun-dial: "I mark only the hours that shine." 
 
 Concrete Venice is easily inventoried. A 
 shallow bay of the Adriatic Sea, with one hun- 
 dred and seventeen small islands, all within a 
 radius of six and one half miles, forms her singu- 
 lar site, — fifteen thousand houses, one hundred 
 and fifty canals, three hundred and seventy-eight 
 bridges, churches as thick as leaves in Vallom- 
 brosa, and palaces literally without number. In 
 the fifteenth century she was the focus of European 
 commerce, and held immense power and posses- 
 sions in the Orient; but in that same century she 
 lost Constantinople, and with it her supremacy 
 
168 THE BRIDE OF THE SEA. 
 
 in the East. The history of the Kepublic, blaz- 
 oned by grand old masters upon the walls of her 
 public buildings, is a perfect glory of power and 
 a dazzle of riches. Now, "none so poor to do 
 her reverence." Venice is the plaything of the 
 world, and, alas ! the toy is getting a little 
 shabby, and needs extensive repairs. 
 
 But ideal or idyllic Venice is not so easily 
 portrayed, for it consists not so much in what 
 is seen, as in that which is suggested by it. It 
 is all so unlike the rest of the world, that one is 
 under an irresistible spell; and floating quietly 
 over the placid waters, the long, narrow outlooks 
 cease to be palace-lined canals, but vistas of pic- 
 turesque and dreamy beauty, drawn by a lim- 
 ner's brush upon a canvas. The worn, dilapi- 
 dated structures, rising from the waters, become, 
 with their lesson of the transitoriness of earthly 
 greatness, a poem of pathos, and a song in plain- 
 tive minor key, which make the soul vibrate 
 with sentiment and emotion. Like a network, 
 the one hundred and fifty canals interlace one 
 another, giving a myriad of beautiful and start- 
 ling pictures, — here an elaborately ornamented 
 fagade; there a hanging-garden; frequently an 
 overarching balcony; and everywhere a profuse 
 and voluptuous witchery of picturesqueness and 
 beauty. Like a great, sinuous serpent, the Grand 
 Canal winds and bends through the heart of the 
 
VENICE. 169 
 
 enchanting city. Grand it is in every sense of 
 the word, — this wide, magnificent waterway, 
 lined with superb old palaces, rising ghost-like 
 from the placid waves, and spanned by the one 
 familiar bridge, Kialto, in which every lover of 
 the "Merchant of Venice" recognizes an old 
 friend. 
 
 You must, however, know how to read between 
 the lines, for there is much you must not see. 
 You must look beyond the hideous trade-signs, 
 the shabby repairs, and the dingy, tumble-down 
 look of defunct wealth and departed aristocracy. 
 Along the whole line of the Grand Canal there 
 are but two palaces which, to our modern, west- 
 ern eyes and sense, seem consistent or perfect, 
 although there are many which would satisfy 
 Continental demands. One is the late residence 
 of Eobert Browning, and the scene of his death; 
 the other that of Baron Hirsch, who could well 
 afford to put the whole line of the Canal in the 
 same order. 
 
 To sit quietly in a gondola, and move along its 
 course in an atmosphere tremulous with golden 
 haze, is to see a line of ancient palaces with 
 Gothic fret-work and conceits, and traces of 
 former gilding and coloring, and quaint and fan- 
 ciful outlines against the sky ; while at the base 
 of these picturesque piles the water laps and 
 plays with soft motion and musical tone, and all 
 
170 THE BRIDE OF THE SEA. 
 
 seems a fantasy or dream. A remorseless fact, 
 however, stares one continually in the face: 
 Venice is a pitiful ruin, with a general appear- 
 ance of dilapidation, of tumbling to pieces, which 
 is extremely pathetic. Nothing but money can 
 restore or save it, and that is the one thing Italy 
 sadly needs in every department. Commerce 
 and manufactures might build up this beautiful 
 wreck by the sea; but this is not probable, 
 beyond a trade for its pretty glass and mosaic 
 work, and exquisite carving of woods. Its 
 famous velvets can be produced to-day more 
 cheaply at Spitalfields than here. Gradually 
 hotels, and vulgar trade in such lines as will 
 catch the crowds of tourists, are possessing 
 palace after palace on the Grand Canal; and the 
 exquisite vagaries of Venetian Gothic windows 
 and Renaissance balconies and facades rise above 
 the chrysoprase waters, dotted with wares for 
 sale, from the dainty, silken slippers of the 
 dames of the old regime to the last creation of 
 Murano glass or Italian carving. 
 
 One wonders if anywhere in the broad world 
 there is spectacularly or architecturally more 
 beauty, picturesqueness, or grandeur than that 
 which spreads out like a vision as one sits in a 
 gondola in the open waters at the beginning of 
 the Grand Canal, and sees the island of San 
 Georgio, with its church and tall campanile; 
 
VENICE. 171 
 
 farther on, the white marble pile and dome of 
 Delia Salute, the exquisite palace of the Doges, 
 and the columns and the peerless campanile of 
 the Piazza, and the clustered domes and minarets 
 of San Marco. 
 
 There are no monotonous hours in Venice when 
 the weather is fine; some odd and interesting 
 phase of life may always be seen. Although no 
 sound of wheels, no click of horses' hoofs, are 
 ever heard, yet you may go on foot all over the 
 city by narrow streets and tiny bridges, and can 
 never be quite lost in the labyrinth, for a white 
 line set in the pavement, if followed, will always 
 bring one to the Grand Piazza, and the holy 
 shadows of San Marco. 
 
 One day we chanced to be upon the outskirts 
 of the city, looking upon the calm and quiet 
 waters of the open bay, gleaming with the sun- 
 light. From a neighboring canal, across the 
 perfectly quiet scene, moved quickly a gondola 
 containing scarlet-robed priests. Another fol- 
 lowed; and a moment later one draped to the 
 water's edge with festoons of black cloth bor- 
 dered and striped with white. In the centre, 
 upon a raised catafalque, or platform, rested a 
 casket covered by a large, full, black pall, with 
 white trimmings. Before it sat a man and a 
 boy. At the bow and stern were two gondoliers 
 in black. Silently they moved across the stretch 
 
172 THE BRIDE OF THE SEA. 
 
 of placid waters, toward the Campo Santo, upon 
 the opposite island. Some one was thus going 
 to the long home. The scene was deeply im- 
 pressive and serious, — the long stretch of 
 glistening waters, the glimpse of the great sea 
 beyond, the smoothly-gliding gondolas, the grace- 
 ful bending in unison of the silent gondoliers, 
 and the expression of perfect peace and absolute 
 repose over all, 
 
 Again, just as we were leaving the city we 
 saw the preparations for the burial of a high 
 military and noble official. The gondolas were 
 profusely draped with palls embroidered in 
 gold. Candles, palms, and floral emblems were 
 plentiful, and an army, with silken banners, 
 crowded the little plaza between the canal and 
 the church, where the requiem mass was 
 proceeding. It was all dramatic and spectac- 
 ular; but one could not help thinking how 
 much more solemn and quiet than our proces- 
 sions of hearse and coaches clattering over 
 the stones was this silent passing out to sea, 
 this " crossing the bar," — to come not back 
 again forever. 
 
 The use of marble, gold, and color in the con- 
 struction of the church edifices in Venice is 
 profuse and lavish, but not always with the best 
 effect or in a refined taste, for exasperating 
 incongruities and absurd inconsistencies are con- 
 
VENICE. 173 
 
 tinually apparent. So many have not their 
 jackets on ! These present a crude, rough 
 exterior of brick which was meant subsequently 
 to be covered with a slicing of marble, but which 
 was either never done, or has partially disap- 
 peared. It is not unusual to see a facade, one 
 half covered with superbly-wrought and exqui- 
 sitely-sculptured marble, while the other half is 
 an unsightly stretch of rough, common brick. 
 Nor are the interiors much more harmonious. 
 The most delicate sculpturings, the most mag- 
 nificent bronze, and priceless canvases are 
 " cheek by jowl" with tawdry ornamentations 
 and plastered gewgaws ; and over all is dirt and 
 grime, that makes one wish an army of house- 
 wives, equipped with brooms, sapolio, etc., 
 would appear. The marbles are discolored, the 
 gold tarnished, and the colors dimmed. 
 
 It is necessary to visit a multitude of these 
 buildings, for one will have a painting worth 
 crossing the sea to behold; another will have 
 carvings, or bronze, or tombs; and many, grand 
 architectural effects. But one feels very much 
 like a rag-picker, who goes searching in every 
 ash-barrel, lest perchance he find a jewel. Think 
 of a Titian, glowing and burning with soft, 
 melting colors, with grouping and outlines of 
 exquisite grace, and overflowing with tender, 
 delicious sentiment, hanging in a dark^ dank, 
 
174 THE BRIDE OF THE SEA. 
 
 diDgy church, where we would begrudge a com- 
 mon chromo; or a priceless marble, a poem or 
 Te Deam in stone, or a grand old bronze, in 
 an edifice cluttered up with incongruous and 
 unfinished designs, and bouquets of tissue-paper 
 and gilt, tinsel flowers. No, don't think of 
 it ! Just read between the lines, and see the 
 glories of architecture and the triumphs of 
 divine Art, and be glad so much has come into 
 your life. 
 
 There are, of course, exceptions. San Georgio, 
 with its square campanile and attendant build- 
 ings, is always a dignified and finished feature 
 in the landscape. Its interior is cold and plain, 
 but imposing, while the wood carvings in the 
 choir are marvellous. Delia Salute, with its 
 white dome and its glory of Titians within, is 
 familiar to every one. The Church of the Frari 
 is a museum, fairly grotesque in details. Titian 
 lies there beneath or within an immense archi- 
 tectural tomb, covered with bass-reliefs, and orna- 
 mented with statues, all in purest marble. 
 Opposite lies Canova, in a tomb he designed for 
 Titian, which is also repeated in Vienna over 
 the grave of an Austrian archduchess. It is a 
 pyramid, with half-opened door, and a procession 
 of funereal figures about to enter. Way up upon 
 the walls are bracketed quaint and beautiful 
 tombs, dark with age. But amidst the wilder- 
 
VENICE. 175 
 
 ness of marbles, etc., the one gem is Titian's 
 Madonna, over the altar of the Pesaro family. 
 
 The most spacious and imposing of all is that 
 of St. Giovanni and St. Paolo. The interior 
 presents Gothic arches, a beautiful apse, huge 
 columns, a central done, and stately tombs of 
 many of the Doges, which are marvellous in 
 size, sculpturings, and colors. In the church-like 
 Chapel of the Rosary, attached to it, was hnng 
 Titian's masterpiece, Saint Peter Martyr, which, 
 with the magnificent carved wood of the interior, 
 was destroyed by fire in 1867. 
 
 San Marco, the noblest of them all, does not 
 impress one as a building, but as a creation, — a 
 fairy-like fabric, a growth, a great tropical 
 flower, a dream, or a wild, sensuous, Oriental 
 poem in stone, mosaic, and gold. It is a wilder- 
 ness of fancy, a harmony as varied and indescrib- 
 able as the spray-tossed waves of the sea as they 
 break along a sunny beach. Seen from the 
 Piazza, against a clear, warm, blue Italian sky, 
 bathed in sunlight, with its gilded domes and 
 fanes, its gables and minarets, with tumnltnons 
 masses of floral forms, its statues of saints, its 
 soft but brilliant mosaics, its glowing colors, and 
 its multitude of beautiful thoughts crystallized 
 in stone, it seems not of earth, but of the 
 Apocalyptic vision, — of the new Heaven and 
 the new Earth. It is Oriental and mosque-like; 
 
176 THE BRIDE OF THE SEA. 
 
 but it is so fanciful and dainty that it is like a 
 grand old parterre, the flower-borders of which 
 have grown up in riotous splendor, unchecked 
 and uncared for, until a confusion of lovely forms 
 and blossoms and colors has overrun the whole 
 space. It is indescribable, except that in form 
 it is a Greek cross, with equal arms, " covered 
 with Byzantine domes over the centre, and at 
 end of each arm." Across the front is a flat- 
 roofed vestibule, upon which stand the four 
 famous gilded horses, — a queer decoration for a 
 church, but somehow not at all inharmonious. 
 Some five hundred marble columns, with richly 
 varied capitals, adorn the building within and 
 without. The front facade shows exquisite, 
 tinted columns, along the entrance doors; above, 
 a balustrade and the horses ; then great, glorious 
 mosaics in the arches, above which spring a sort 
 of gable, ending in acanthus leaves tossed in air, 
 terminating with small figures of saints, little 
 canopy-like turrets, finished in gold, and above, 
 the roof of the great dome, with golden finials 
 and balls. The interior is beyond all praise or 
 description. It is dingy, remember; but the 
 tout ensemble is superb ! It matters little what 
 its form and character may be, whether Greek 
 or Latin cross, pointed or round arch. One 
 hardly thinks of it in detail, so intoxicating, 
 bewildering, yet soothing, is the combined effect 
 
Interior San Marco, Venice. 
 
 u 
 
VENICE. 177 
 
 of form and color. There is a sheen of gold 
 everywhere, a blush of color in all places; a 
 soft blending of column and arch, and screen and 
 pulpit, in the time-tinted alabaster and marble. 
 
 As one sits absorbing the exquisite solemn 
 tone of it, a gleam of sunshine from a different 
 angle or distant window may alter the whole 
 scene. Arched roof, covered with colored 
 mosaics, upon a solid golden ground; columns 
 of various colored marbles ; side walls of veined 
 alabaster, almost russet with the accretions of 
 years; hanging-lamps of exquisite form; a pul- 
 pit with pagoda-like canopy; a tall, sculptured 
 screen across the entrance of choir, with a balus- 
 trade and columns of lovely and varied colors, 
 and upon the top fourteen marble figures of rich 
 brown, amber-like tint; above the High Altar, a 
 canopy upheld by quaintly-sculptured columns, 
 — this is what one sees without being conscious 
 of anything but the soft gleam of gold and rich 
 iridescence of colors and wondrous grace of form 
 and outline. We walked all over it, — went 
 into the little footpaths of galleries, and looked 
 down upon the floor, covered with mosaics, which 
 has been so upheaved as to look billowy in sur- 
 face; stood in dark corners, and sat in long 
 slants of sunshine, yet could never get past the 
 bewilderment of it all, and the willingness just 
 to sit still and feel it, as one would an exquisite 
 
 VOL. II. — 12 
 
178 THE BRIDE OF THE SEA. 
 
 and perfect harmony. It is a veritable "call to 
 prayer " and sweet and solemn meditation. Its 
 walls, covered with scriptural scenes in mosaic, 
 are a "People's Bible." Artists are busy at dif- 
 ferent points with sketches; a few worshippers 
 bow before the side altars, and here and there a 
 solitary form is bent in prayer; and a crowd of 
 sight-gazers surge to and fro. But, serene and 
 calm, the great structure of gold and color stands 
 unchanged in its influence and expression. 
 
 All this gives little idea of the bewildering 
 and dazzling effect of all the inspirations ex- 
 pressed within and without in deftly-wrought 
 stone, beautifully tinted mosaic, and gleaming, 
 flashing gold. Fanciful, exuberant, and extrava- 
 gant it may be; but it stands to-day unique and 
 alone, — an allegory in enduring stone. No 
 wonder Buskin raved! Every one who possesses 
 even a portion of Buskin's spirit will feel the 
 same vibration and thrill. Some one, plain, 
 hard-headed, and matter-of-fact, will come along 
 and say that as a structure it is too low, too 
 confused, and it is all a job-lot of spoiled and 
 tarnished fancies. But the doves will flutter 
 around and settle here and there year after year ; 
 the fairy-like domes, the graceful pinnacles, the 
 myriad leaf and flower forms in stone, the beau- 
 tiful golden mosaics, and the odd bronze horses 
 of the exterior, will gleam and glow in the noon- 
 
VENICE. 179 
 
 day sun for ages, as the personification of perfect 
 beauty and finished grace; and the rude old 
 mosaics and the bewitching effects of colors, 
 arches, and golden domes of the interior, will 
 stand long as the expression of grateful tribute 
 and reverent worship. 
 
 Close by is the Doge's palace, imposing and 
 massive, yet graceful and ornate, with many a 
 traceried window and floral form tossed against 
 its walls. Its interior, with magnificent court, 
 a Giant's staircase of marble, a beautiful loggia, 
 and room after room of enormous size, with 
 superb ceilings and walls glowing with the best 
 works of Titian, Paul Veronese, Palma Vecchio, 
 and Tintoretto, held in place by most elaborately- 
 carved and gilded mouldings, makes the days 
 disappear like hours. At the Academy Belle 
 Arti, ten minutes away, hangs the gorgeous and 
 beautiful Assumption, by Titian, and his ex- 
 quisite Presentation in the Temple, which none 
 see but to love. 
 
 A little steamer in a half hour carries one 
 across the lagoons to the Lido, a narrow strip of 
 land between them and the Adriatic, where is a 
 beautiful beach, lapped by the great, green 
 waves. Near by is the Island and Convent of 
 San Lazzaro, ideal in its loveliness and repose. 
 While there one morning, every palace and dome 
 and tower of Venice was ablaze with sunlight, 
 
180 THE BRIDE OF THE SEA. 
 
 and the reflection in the waters was weird and 
 picturesque ; while toward the Lido, like a 
 mirage, everything seemed lifted above the 
 waters, floating like an iridescent bubble in the 
 air. But what is the use ? Talk about it and 
 tell about it, yet, like a mirage, it will elude 
 your grasp. One who has seen the old city in 
 moonlight, sunlight, and in cold, deadening 
 storm, in a wild delirium of delight and in cold, 
 matter-of-fact consciousness of tired body and 
 weary brain, can only say, "It is of no use;" 
 or declare, with the modern belle at the piano, 
 "I cannot sing the old songs." 
 
THE LILY OF THE AKNO. 
 
 Any one with the least poetry, sentiment, or 
 artistic sense will not fail to "fall in love " with 
 Florence; but matter-of-fact, straight-up-and- 
 down people will see only a mediaeval city, with 
 tortuous and narrow streets with here and there 
 a massive, weather-stained palace, a " lot of old 
 churches, " a beautiful campanile, miles of paint- 
 ings in the Uffizi and Pitti, and a rapid, shallow 
 river, between granite walls, spanned by fine 
 bridges, — and will not think it "half as nice as 
 Paris! " And all the while, whether "men will 
 hear or forbear," like a picture or a dream, 
 "Firenze la bella," with its expanse of flat roofs 
 and yellow walls, — the monotony of which is 
 broken only by an occasional square campanile 
 or shapely dome, — lies like a great flock of 
 white sea-gulls upon a level valley, bordering 
 both sides of the shallow, muddy, and rapid 
 Arno, which, with its several bridges and high- 
 walled banks, curves and sways gracefully through 
 it. With its environment of sunlit hills, starred 
 with many a pretty, embowered villa, or crowned 
 
182 THE LILY OF THE ARNO. 
 
 by gray monastery walls, or tall campanile, and 
 with the half-encircling Apennines, ranging in 
 color from deep bine to amethyst, and on to rose, 
 lying against the soft, opalescent, distant, snow- 
 covered mountains, it is indeed a vision of beauty 
 and soft, delicious color ! 
 
 Happily, the first six days of our sojourn were 
 cloudless, and we entered and saw it from various 
 standpoints again and again, just basking and 
 rollicking in glorious floods of sunshine. Day 
 after day we revelled in the sight of the clear-cut 
 outline of roofs, — of Giotto's peerless Campa- 
 nile, and of the Duomo facade and dome, against 
 the warm, deep-blue, Italian sky. These Italian 
 cities, with their narrow, crooked streets, need 
 the sun. And here in Florence, with churches 
 and palaces so rich in frescos and masterpieces 
 of pictorial art, a flood of sunshine making glad 
 the dark places, making visible the wondrous but 
 half-obliterated mural decorations, is a boon 
 which makes the traveller's heart light within 
 him. Its palaces, often half fortress and half 
 palace, are of such magnificent extent and pro- 
 portions, and, almost uniformly, so fine archi- 
 tecturally, that it seems a pity that instead of 
 making gloomy a narrow street, or being crowded 
 by meaner structures, they do not stand upon 
 some wide boulevard, or open plaza. But that 
 would not be Italy; and it is Italy we "went out 
 
FLORENCE. 183 
 
 for to see." Its history is rich and full of won- 
 drous development in Art, in marvellous growth 
 in Literature, and of wealth lavishly but intelli- 
 gently used. Any one simply walking through 
 its streets, or strolling through its galleries, or 
 idling in its libraries, would be impressed with 
 this. Alas ! to-day it is only a provincial town. 
 The more is the pity, that for a few short years 
 it was the capital of the new Kingdom of Italy; 
 for, regarding it as a permanency, it has been 
 made bankrupt by huge schemes of improvement 
 and adornment that are needless now, and to 
 make way for which a peculiar and most pictur- 
 esque feature (the old walls) has been destroyed. 
 Well do we remember how quaint and unique 
 they looked years ago, with fleur-de-lis and 
 spring flowers waving and nodding from every 
 nook and cranny where they had gained rootage. 
 Now, in their place, an unfinished boulevard 
 encircles the town. It is very beautiful, even if 
 it is an innovation, with its shade-trees, fre- 
 quent garden-like spaces, and fine villas, and 
 furnishes a most charming drive, with at times 
 bewitching pictures of the old town and sur- 
 rounding olive-wooded hills. Upon the hillside 
 it leads to the new Piazza, or open square, a mag- 
 nificent, elevated terrace, dedicated to Michael 
 Angelo ; broad and level, with handsome balus- 
 trades, and in the centre, upon marble pedestal, 
 
184 THE LILY OF THE ARNCX 
 
 a replica of Angelo's superb David, with bronze 
 copies at either corner of his Day and Night, 
 and the Evening and Dawn of the Medician 
 tomb; and with a commanding view, which 
 sweeps the length and breadth of the Arno val- 
 ley, the city with huge dome and campanile 
 of cathedral, and the lovely heights of Fiesole, 
 and the entire range of the Apennines, it is so 
 noble and grand that one quite forgives the 
 destruction of the picturesque and historic walls, 
 which made it possible. It is the only structure 
 of modern Florence that accords with the grand 
 old palaces of its earlier period. Many an hour 
 we whiled away upon it, gazing at the lovely 
 sunlit pictures presented upon every side. 
 
 The little river below like molten metal curved 
 gracefully out of sight. The mighty cathedral 
 dome, like a great bubble, seemed afloat in an 
 atmosphere of gold. The lovely campanile, with 
 its soft harmony of coloring, rose aloft in the 
 yellow haze. Away off upon the mountains and 
 the hills appeared white villas and great, gray, 
 fortress-like abodes. The Apennines were 
 amethystine in tint and color; while against the 
 distant horizon lay, dreamily and opalescent, a 
 line of soft, wavy, snow-crested mountains. 
 Often everything was suffused and the very 
 atmosphere was tremulous with glorious light 
 and color. 
 
FLORENCE. 185 
 
 Ordinarily the Arno is an insignificant stream; 
 but when swollen by storms it becomes quite 
 formidable, and demonstrates the necessity for 
 the massive granite quays which line its whole 
 course through the city. But, faced by ancient 
 palaces, and spanned by the quaint, mediaeval 
 Ponte Vecchio and five other bridges, it is, with 
 its yellow, rippling waters, one of the most 
 picturesque features, making a beautiful vista 
 through the throbbing heart of the city, way off 
 to the woods of the Cascine. It is shallow and 
 rapid, but in the sunlight gleams and glistens 
 like polished gold, and reflects and beautifies, as 
 in a mirror, the old piles which overlook it. 
 Upon lovely blue and sunlit days it is soft, 
 dreamy, and Venetian-like, and the refracted 
 light-effects are peculiarly beautiful. Our win- 
 dows looked down upon one of the great bridges, 
 and it was an endless delight to watch the mul- 
 titude that thronged it from "morn till dewy 
 eve." 
 
 The life of to-day is far from barren in the 
 elements of the picturesque. An elegant equi- 
 page, with handsome horses and livery, is jostled 
 by a droll, ramshackle conveyance with two 
 wheels, drawn by a patient donkey and presided 
 over by a rollicking, laughing peasant-boy. 
 Cabs, great loads of merchandise, and the queer- 
 est-looking country wagons, and all sorts of 
 
186 THE LILY OF THE ARNO. 
 
 drays, often three or four times the length of the 
 poor beast which drags them, crowd the way, 
 while the working-horses have bells and tassels 
 and brass ornaments enough for a holiday parade. 
 The crowd of pedestrians is none the less motley, 
 or full of extremes of richness and poverty. The 
 women of the lower classes with rigolette or 
 veil, if anything, upon their heads; the men with 
 long, full cloaks and slouch hats; monks and 
 sisters in monastic habits ; ladies and gentlemen ; 
 common soldiers, and officers in brilliant uni- 
 forms; once in a while a vendor of embroideries 
 in gay costume; and sometimes black-robed 
 figures carrying a bier, —make a most pictur- 
 esque and characteristic picture. But the great 
 bridge in the early morning, with its hurry- 
 scurry life and crowd; with the long rays of sun- 
 light slanting through the rifted eastern clouds, 
 and striking full upon the brilliant reds and blues 
 and yellows of the women's costumes, the dull 
 browns and russets and blues of the workingmen, 
 the red and yellow and white of vehicle-wheels; 
 the long processions of hay-loads, soft and deli- 
 cate in tint, and glowing with mellow light; and 
 the flash of military accoutrements, — can never 
 quite fade from one's sight. In our country the 
 crowd would be sombre and commonplace; but 
 here pictures are suggested continually, and one's 
 fingers tingle to perpetuate them. No wonder 
 
FLORENCE. 187 
 
 the Old Masters portrayed the Mother of our Lord 
 as they did. She was the woman, the Mother of 
 the country, seen on every side with rigolette 
 upon the head, and gay shawl across her gener- 
 ous bosom, carrying her babe upon her arm even 
 to-day in the streets of Florence. But if the 
 babies had been trundled in perambulators, as 
 with us, would grouping of Divine Motherhood 
 ever have found perpetuation upon canvas as in 
 the Madonnas we all love so well? 
 
 Turning from the sunny quays and the golden 
 Arno, one passes immediately into the narrow, 
 crooked streets, lined with tall, quaint facades, 
 and grim, dark palace-walls, which speak of "a 
 day that is dead," of an age that is past. 
 Strolling aimlessly along, one comes to an open 
 plaza where, in a flood of golden sunshine, leaps 
 into the air, clothed in soft colors and exquisite 
 lines, the fairest creation of Italy, — the incom- 
 parable Campanile of Giotto, and beside it the 
 stately pile of the Duomo. Again one comes to 
 an open square, or, as they call it, a piazza, 
 where Savonarola's soul went up to God, upon 
 which face the grand, castle-like Palazzo 
 Vecchio, and the celebrated Loggia dei Lanzi, 
 an open-vaulted hall, with masterpieces of 
 sculpture, and from which one looks along the 
 vista of the columns, arches, and porticos of the 
 Uffizi to the border of the Arno. 
 
188 THE LILY OF THP] ARNO. 
 
 It is in churches clingy and grimy without, 
 and dim and shadowy within, that one sees the 
 triumphs and creations of early Italian art. In 
 the Uffizi there is a wilderness of artistic treas- 
 ures, and in the Pitti a parterre of the choicest 
 blossoms of the Old Masters. 
 
 But there is something in the air that is not 
 mediaeval ! The light is piercing the dark places 
 of fair Italy. Already a wide street and open 
 plaza have been cut through the most dense and 
 unhealthful portion of Florence, and, among the 
 memories of the Medici, looms high in air an 
 equestrian statue of the unwieldy, burly form of 
 Victor Emmanuel! 
 
 If weary with all the glory of the past and 
 the delights of a wondrous age of art (and plea- 
 sure tires as well as labor), one can revel in the 
 magnificent avenues, the ilex and cypress-shaded 
 walks of the Boboli Gardens, or can ascend the 
 heights of Fiesole or the hill of the monastery of 
 "Val d'Ema," and revel in a peaceful view 
 which seems too fair and sweet for earth. 
 Surely, as an old-time poet has sung, — 
 
 " Of all the fairest cities of the earth, 
 None is so fair as Florence." 
 
 Or as a popular novelist expresses it : — 
 
 " She was builded in a night by Hercules, as a plea- 
 sure-toy for Venus and Flora, made with the stones 
 from the golden Arno water, and set up in a meadow 
 
FLORENCE. 189 
 
 of lilies. Hercules gave his strength as a birthright ; 
 and Flora, being content, touched the soil and said, 
 1 All the year long flowers shall blossom here, and their 
 smile shall not cease in any season ; ' and Venus, being 
 well pleased likewise, called her son to her and said, 
 ' When you dart your arrows hither, wreathe them with 
 roses, and wing them from the eagle and the dove. ' " 
 
THE SANCTUAEIES OF FLORENCE. 
 
 In the majority of Italian towns, the interest, 
 artistical, ecclesiastical, and historical, centres 
 in the old churches and palaces. In every view 
 of Florence the grand, central point is the huge, 
 balloon-like dome and the tall, majestic campa- 
 nile of the Duomo. Within an hour after our 
 arrival in the old city, we stood in the open 
 piazza in which stands the wonderful group of 
 the Duomo, or Cathedral, the Campanile, and the 
 Baptistery, whose marvellous doors of bronze 
 were pronounced by Michael Angelo fit for the 
 entrance-gates to paradise. Of the Campanile it 
 may truthfully be said, "It is one of the few 
 'perfect structures in the world." Simple, digni- 
 fied, and peerless, detached from the Duomo and 
 square in form, it stands with its wealth of 
 color, its simple and natural lines, its richly- 
 traced window-arches, like a glorious poetical 
 growth and development, and rises from the 
 broad piazza with all the grace, richness, and 
 sumptuousness of a superb tropical flower. 
 Encrusted with geometric mosaic of red, black- 
 
FLORENCE. 191 
 
 ish -green, and white marbles ; adorned with 
 medallions, statues, bass-reliefs, and sculptur- 
 ings ; with open window-frames, filled with 
 exquisite traceries and borderings, so skilfully 
 arranged that the whole mass seems to taper 
 slightly as it ascends, — this matchless structure 
 rises in the still, luminous air to a height of two 
 hundred and ninety-two feet, an enduring monu- 
 ment to the memory of the shepherd-boy of the 
 Tuscan hills, who, as Euskin says, "filled the 
 heart of Italy with sacred thoughts," and, called 
 of God for peculiar work, bore upon his crown 
 the legend of David, "I took thee from the 
 sheep-cote and from following the sheep." Who, 
 gazing in rapt wonder at it, can doubt the 
 Divine gift, when he thinks of this boy, born 
 among the lily fields, far away from Florence, 
 being called, as Euskin also says, "to raise that 
 headstone of Beauty above her towers of watch 
 and war " ? Fluttering with ceaseless motion 
 through the open windows, or resting in depths 
 of bass-reliefs or niche, are countless doves, or 
 pigeons, which, being regularly fed upon the 
 plaza below, never leave it, but give a peculiar 
 life and spirit to this dream of sculptured color. 
 
 Close to it, but separated by a few feet, stands 
 the beautiful and stately Duomo, encrusted alike 
 with mosaic of black and white marbles. "A 
 little oil cloth-y," some say, who do not admire. 
 
192 THE SANCTUARIES OF FLORENCE. 
 
 The consciousness that all this beautiful marble 
 is only a crust, and is in no sense essential to, or 
 a part of, the stability and strength of the struct- 
 ure, and the feeling that it may slide or scale off 
 with any violent atmospheric disturbance, is not 
 pleasant. But the building is fine! It is not 
 solemn and impressive, like an English cathe- 
 dral, with its quieting and meditative close, and 
 its ponderous air of "God only is great," and its 
 commanding "Come, let us worship and bow 
 down before the Lord our Maker;" but cheer- 
 ing, inspiriting, and elevating, with its glad, 
 joyous, " Let us go up to the house of the Lord 
 together," "Let us give thanks" and "Let us 
 rejoice in the Lord alway." Above the huge pile 
 the great, octagonal dome — the mother of all 
 the domes of Europe — broods over the project- 
 ing chapels, much as a hen doth over the chickens 
 beneath her wings. Of late years, an elaborate 
 and harmonious front facade has been con- 
 structed, — a perpetual song of joy and gladness, 
 without one discordant note. As yet, unstained 
 by time, it stands like an exquisite embroidery, 
 rich with fret-work of delicate design, covered 
 with niches and statues, and adorned with 
 minute decorations of golden mosaic. Three 
 glorious doorways, each with a framework of 
 patiently and delicately wrought white marble, 
 and exquisite mosaic pictures in the spandrels, 
 
FLORENCE. 193 
 
 adorn it. And enshrined high upon its glorious 
 face, in a golden niche, is the effigy of her who 
 was indeed " blessed among women/' holding the 
 Divine child. 
 
 We first saw it in the full glare of sunlight, 
 and every carving, every detail, and every bit of 
 tiny gold encircling little columns stood out in 
 glorious distinctness and beauty. But a while 
 before sunset, with the slanting rays of softer, 
 golden light resting upon it, it is so airy, so 
 delicate, and full of life, that it is Oriental in 
 splendor. The mosaics gleam with soft, rich 
 effect; the sunken bits of gold flash like gems; 
 the statues and sculpturings are soft with beams 
 of yellow, while through the quatre-foils that 
 border the sky-line appears the deep-blue of the 
 beyond, as soft and vivid as if some precious bits 
 of lapis-lazuli filled each one. 
 
 But disappointment awaits him who feels that 
 this sumptuous pile must enshrine a glorious 
 interior, for it is bare, cold, and sombre, and is 
 washed a yellowish-brown. Its dimensions are 
 grand; the high vault of the dome is impressive; 
 the marble screen that encloses the choir is fine ; 
 but it is such a contrast to the warm, glowing 
 exterior, that instinctively one wants to get out 
 into the sunlight again. It has not even the 
 poetic "dim, religious light," although there are 
 narrow windows of old stained glass, that melt 
 
 VOL. II. — 13 
 
194 THE SANCTUARIES OF FLORENCE. 
 
 and glow with richest tint and deepest hue. In 
 this soft, glowing, Italian clime, with the mean 
 but picturesque surroundings, and with this 
 people so strangely full of activity and life, and of 
 indolence and ease, this exquisite campanile and 
 facade seem in perfect harmony. But place it 
 in one of our red-brick or brown-stone lined 
 streets or squares, and it would be discordant, 
 and its pleasant rhythm and easy, graceful, 
 poetic flow be lost. 
 
 St. Maria Novella is considered by connoisseurs 
 the "finest in Florence," and Michael Angelo 
 called it "the Bride." Could he see it to-day, 
 with its mosaic facade begrimed, and its inte- 
 rior dingy and filthy, his epithet would hardly 
 be so flattering. There is much an amateur or 
 tourist must wade through, although of little 
 interest to himself, which he knows the art or 
 architectural student finds, like the legendary 
 egg, full of meat. For instance, in this church 
 is a famous work by Cimabue, which was carried 
 originally to the church in procession, followed 
 by an enthusiastic populace, of which Hawthorne 
 says, he " thinks it would be no calamity if the 
 populace would carry it into the square and as 
 reverently burn it ! " Connected with this 
 church is a chapter house, with frescos, to 
 which Ruskin devotes two entire "Mornings in 
 Florence." A half hour within it always chilled 
 us through, — there is little enjoyment in obscure 
 
FLORENCE. 195 
 
 art when one must stand upon one foot and then 
 the other to keep warm. 
 
 Attached to the Church of San Lorenzo are 
 the Medician Chapel and sacristy. The first is 
 octagonal in form, and lighted from a dome. 
 The interior is completely encrusted with richly 
 polished marble of a chocolate hue. Columns, 
 panels, cornices, and massive and stately tombs, 
 all harmonizing in color and design with a 
 wainscoting inlaid with superb Florentine mosaic 
 coats-of-arms of various cities, — make an effect 
 which for magnificence and richness surpasses 
 anything in Florence. Only four million of 
 dollars were expended upon it! Near it is the 
 new sacristy built by Michael Angelo, as a 
 mausoleum for the Medici tribe, a quadrangular 
 room with a dome, but severely cold, bare, 
 and plain in its finish. In it stand two tombs 
 with statues of Lorenzo and Julius di Medici, 
 which are worth more in an artistic sense than 
 all the gorgeousness of the chapel. The statue 
 of Lorenzo is a sublime creation, "with everlast- 
 ing shadow on his face." It is so still, so lost 
 in thought and profound meditation, that one 
 instinctively moves silently before it. Upon 
 these tombs are the wonderful unfinished reclin- 
 ing statues of Day and Night, and Evening and 
 Dawn, often seen in illustrations. 
 
 Santa Croce is the Westminster Abbey, the 
 Walhalla, of Florence. Its interior is impos- 
 
196 THE SANCTUARIES OF FLORENCE. 
 
 ing and impressive, more because of its great size 
 and its massive columns than anything else, for 
 it is washed in shades of brown, and has a cheap- 
 looking, barn-like timbered roof. Around the side 
 walls are monuments commemorating names that 
 could not die. Near the grave of Michael Angelo 
 rises a massive tomb with statues. Farther on is 
 a huge cenotaph to Dante, who sleeps at Eavenna. 
 Alfieri, Galileo, and Machiavelli are also remem- 
 bered. Bronze tablets record the grateful memory 
 of the Italians of the services of Victor Emmanuel 
 and Giuseppe Garibaldi. In numerous small 
 chapels are glowing old windows, and walls 
 covered with the wonderful frescos of Giotto. 
 
 Adjoining the Church of San Marco is the 
 suppressed monastery of the same name, a sanctu- 
 ary in truth of devotion and art, which, with 
 its frescos and paintings by gentle Fra Angelico, 
 the works of Fra Bartolomeo and Ghirlandajo, 
 and its associations with godly Savonarola, is 
 one of the most fascinating and interesting places 
 in Florence. Suppressed by the present govern- 
 ment, it has been opened as a museum. Upon 
 the walls of tiny cells are the dainty frescos of 
 Fra Angelico. One can easily believe he knelt 
 always in prayer before commencing work. He 
 seems the only one of the Old Masters who really 
 succeeded in so etherealizing and spiritualizing 
 the human face that it became angelic and not of 
 this world. 
 
FLORENCE. 197 
 
 A strange feeling of awe and reality creeps over 
 one as he stands in the little suite of two rooms, 
 or cells, in which Sa\onarola prayed and labored, 
 and from his vigils there passed into the adjoining 
 church and preached with such mighty power. 
 His chair, rosary, volume of sermons, hair- 
 shirt, and crucifix all lie there. He labored to 
 make the people and the government pure in 
 heart, and his monastery a sanctuary of art 
 entirely consecrated to the glory of the Christian 
 religion. What a wonderful story his life is! 
 Alas! elsewhere we trace the fearful ending! In 
 the Palazzo Vecchio we stood in the little upper 
 room in w T hich he partook for the last time of 
 the Sacrament, and from whence he passed into 
 the square below r , and with two others was pub- 
 licly degraded, unclothed, hung, and then burned, 
 upon the very spot where the people under the 
 influence of his preaching had burned their 
 cards, ball-dresses, trinkets, questionable statues, 
 and pictures. Calm, composed, and lost in con- 
 templation of his Saviour, his last sublime words 
 being, "The Lord has suffered as much for me," 
 he met his doom, and made even the public 
 square forever a sanctuary. 
 
 Many another sacred place makes the old city 
 full and overflowing with tender and precious 
 memories, and art treasures, to which you may 
 come and go at your own sweet will. 
 
198 THE SANCTUARIES OF FLORENCE. 
 
 The levelling of the city walls and the grading 
 of the new Viale, or boulevard, has destroyed 
 the pensive charm and rural grace of the old 
 Protestant cemetery, — a sanctuary for many an 
 American. Now it stands on a knoll, surrounded 
 by and elevated above the city streets. A sar- 
 cophagus of white marble, inlaid with mosaics 
 (that already are chipping off), and supported by 
 six dwarf columns, marks the sleeping-place of 
 Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Her husband lies 
 beneath the cold, gray pavement of far-away 
 Westminster Abbey, where no perfume of south- 
 ern flower or warmth of Italian sunshine ever 
 penetrates. Theodore Parker — the brave and 
 fearless — was laid here at the age of fifty. 
 Near by, a tasteless white slab marks the grave 
 of Walter Savage Landor; and a plain slab tells 
 of the "farewell tribute of wife and sister" to 
 Arthur Hugh Clough. Many Americans, Eng- 
 lish, and Dutch lie entombed upon the sunny 
 knoll. But the roses were in bloom, the shrub- 
 bery was rich and green, the breeze blew softly 
 through the tall cypresses, and the sunlight fell 
 upon many a triumphant strain of Scripture, 
 which the English so delight to inscribe above 
 their dead, and this humble place seemed more 
 sacred than the historic sanctuaries scattered 
 throughout this ancient city. 
 
SOME SIGHTS IN EOME 
 NOT MENTIONED IN BAEDAEKER. 
 
 Any one revisiting the Eternal City after a lapse 
 of years, will be impressed with the fact that the 
 world does move, and that the trend is — per- 
 haps slowly, but surely — upward and onward. 
 The old Rome, so dear to the heart of the " globe- 
 trotter" and to the eye of the artist, with its 
 delicious and perfect harmony of age and anti- 
 quity, has disappeared. The grand old palaces, 
 the sublime ruins of the mighty monuments, 
 grimy and dingy with the dust and accretions of 
 centuries, still stand a silent testimony of "a 
 tale that is told ; " but they no longer dominate 
 or give tone to the historic city beside the yellow 
 Tiber. The lethargic sleep is broken. There 
 "is something in the air;" all is discord! The 
 new jostles against the old, and threatens to 
 overwhelm it. New streets, broad and hand- 
 some, let light and health into the stifled but 
 picturesque quarters. Marble embankments and 
 a stately drive ere long will line the Tiber, to 
 make room for which many a picturesque but 
 fever-breeding pile has been demolished. And 
 
200 SOME SIGHTS IN ROME. 
 
 why this change, this awakening from contented 
 sleep, this destruction of one of the landmarks 
 of the romantic and picturesque ? Because 
 Eome is no longer the seat of the "temporal 
 power," but the capital of free and united Italy. 
 A king, broad and generous in sentiment, sits in 
 the old papal palace of the Quirinal, and seeks 
 patiently, tolerantly, and justly to develop both 
 land and people. 
 
 Meanwhile, where the great, irregular, homely 
 mass of the Vatican with its thousands of rooms 
 surges, like a huge tidal wave, against the 
 superb pile of St. Peter's, the aged Pontiff lives 
 in ill-chosen and mistaken seclusion. Since it 
 has become the capital, Eome has doubled its 
 population, and has seen its habitations, large 
 and costly, rise by the thousand. There is an 
 air of lusty, busy, healthful life, which has 
 hardly yet settled into a steady and personal 
 expression. 
 
 But the changes "all along the line" are not 
 confined to things temporal. The Rome, thirty 
 years ago, which allowed only Americans to 
 worship under their flag at the embassy, and the 
 English outside of the walls, now shows two 
 English, one Scottish, and one American churches, 
 for the foreign residents; a Waldensian, a Chris- 
 tian Apostolic, a Baptist, an Evangelical Free, 
 an Italian Methodist, and a Mission Methodist 
 
ROME. 201 
 
 (cared for by the English Wesleyans), for the 
 evangelization of the people. Facing the road- 
 way across the well-known bridge of St. Angelo, 
 and in plain sight of St. Peter's, is a French 
 apartment-house (in appearance), purchased and 
 held by Scotch and American trustees, for the 
 work so successfully inaugurated and carried on 
 by the late Father Gavazzi, and now known as 
 the Evangelical Church of Italy. Under one roof 
 are primary and elementary schools for children, 
 a theological school, library, and dormitories 
 for students, and a church. A little, irregular 
 upper-room contains the modest library, the por- 
 trait, bust, and other mementos of this great 
 pioneer; while over a door, in a roll, hang his 
 robes as a priest, and his red shirt and uniform 
 as a Garibaldian soldier. The Evangelical (or 
 as it used to be called the Free) Church of Italy 
 appeals to our country yearly through Dr. How- 
 ard Crosby and the Rev. Mr. Angelini, now in 
 America. It is doing a glorious work through- 
 out Italy; and no one with the advancement of 
 the Master's kingdom at heart could, if cogni- 
 zant of its beneficent achievements, withhold his 
 gift. God's work will be carried on; but the 
 question is, can Christians afford to lose the 
 privilege of co-working with Him? 
 
 Another wonderful work is that commenced 
 and carried on among the soldiers by Luigi 
 
202 SOME SIGHTS IN ROME. 
 
 Capellini, called the Evangelical Military Church, 
 but now in fellowship with and protected by the 
 English Methodists. Capellini was a soldier. 
 One day at Perugia, as he walked the street, he 
 saw some bits of paper carried along by the 
 wind. He picked them up, read them with 
 interest, meditated upon their words, and, as he 
 expresses it, "My soul seemed all at once to 
 throw off its fetters and become filled with an 
 unusual joy." God's word had not returned unto 
 Him void. The few leaves of a Testament drift- 
 ing along the streets of an obscure Italian town 
 had wrought a miracle not likely to be emblaz- 
 oned by art, but already reflected in the changed 
 lives of hundreds of soldiers. He went to work 
 at once, and when his military service was ended, 
 gave himself up entirely to efforts for the evange- 
 lization of the soldiers. His own means failing, 
 Mr. Waite, of the American Union Church here, 
 collected sufficient to carry it on for a year. Then, 
 through Rev. Gerry Vernon, it was supported by 
 the Methodist Church in America, until it came 
 under the patronage or care of the English 
 Methodist Church here. Persecution opened its 
 battery. Some bigoted officers called a council 
 to consider measures for preventing evangelical 
 meetings, etc., among the men; but Umberto 
 (then Prince) said, "No! See that no political 
 plotting goes on under the garb of religion ; but 
 
ROME. 203 
 
 do not hinder the men from fulfilling the duties 
 of their religion." And Umberto — now king, 
 "the noblest Roman of them all," — has since, 
 because of the improved "morale" of his army, 
 made this servant of Christ "cavalier," the 
 equivalent of knight. 
 
 In Rome the services are held in a hired room. 
 At three other points in the country " stations " 
 are also in full operation. As the regiments are 
 moved constantly, anything like a church organi- 
 zation is quite impracticable; but they are 
 enrolled, and three times a year the sacrament 
 of the Lord's supper is celebrated. It was a 
 privilege at Christmas time, to be present at 
 the English Methodist Church, where, for con- 
 venience, this simple and touching service was 
 held. Entering the brilliantly-lighted little 
 church by a side door, we looked upon an audi- 
 ence of perhaps two hundred young men, stal- 
 wart in form and manly in bearing, the dark 
 blue of their uniforms relieved here and there by 
 a dash of scarlet and of gold. It was thrilling 
 to hear them already singing (as this people do 
 everything), with their whole heart, an Italian 
 version of "Hold the Fort." It was stirring and 
 martial, and in perfect keeping. Unfamiliarity 
 with the language shut us, in one sense, out; but 
 something in our hearts answered to the fervent, 
 earnest tone of the prayer, and the ringing, stir- 
 
204 SOME SIGHTS IN ROME. 
 
 ring notes of the address, and the manly response, 
 "Credo," to each article of belief. Upon a 
 small table before the pulpit was a tankard, two 
 chalices, and a plate, presented on Christmas 
 Day, 1873, — " From soldiers of England to the 
 Evangelical soldiers of Italy." Eev. Mr. Pig- 
 gott, of the Methodist Church, read the service 
 and made an address, and, with Mr. Capellini, 
 passed the elements. The manly heads were 
 bowed in meditation, and a tender stillness 
 brooded like the Spirit over them. It was 
 impossible to look with undimmed vision upon 
 these soldiers of the Cross, who, as they will by 
 duty be called here and there throughout the 
 Kingdom, will carry and spread broadcast the 
 story of redeeming love ; or to repress an earnest 
 prayer that they may be enabled "to endure 
 hardness as good soldiers of Jesus Christ." 
 With a glad, triumphant rendering of our fami- 
 liar tune and hymn, "I am Coming, Lord, to 
 Thee," the service closed. It seemed as if the 
 " Gloria in excelsis Deo " was ringing in the air, 
 although unspoken. As each new communicant 
 passed out a Bible was presented to him. It 
 was a company of Roman soldiers, — not, as of 
 old, come to bear Him away to judgment-hall, 
 and consequent humiliation and death ; but to 
 remember His dying command, and then go out 
 to bear Him in their hearts and before their 
 
ROME. 205 
 
 comrades, to testify of His saving grace, and so 
 verify His own words, " And I, if I be lifted up, 
 will draw all men unto me." God grant that 
 this may be the little leaven that will leaven the 
 whole lump; until, from humble private to 
 kingly commander, shall come the refrain, "By 
 Thy grace, I will ! " 
 
EIBS OF AN OLD HULK. 
 
 After all, European travel, like everything else, 
 yields in enjoyment and profit in proportion to 
 the appreciation and preparation the individual 
 brings to bear upon it. A party of three, some 
 years ago, came suddenly and unexpectedly in 
 full view of the towers and transept of West- 
 minster Abbey. Two stood breathless and en- 
 tranced before the realization of the dreams of 
 a lifetime, thrilled with the historic and antique 
 expression of the smoke -begrimed and venerable 
 old pile. The stillness was broken by the third, 
 exclaiming as he looked, not at the Abbey, but at 
 the passing crowd, "What a hoss!" He had 
 found his level, and it was only so many hands 
 high. The story of the Abbey told by these par- 
 ties must have differed widely. Yet the Abbey 
 was the same, — grand, sublime, and impressive. 
 It was a question of capacity only. ]STo use in 
 expecting one with capacity for a pint only -to 
 accommodate a quart ! 
 
 An artist sojourning in Eome remarked, 
 "The Forum does not inspire or move m#." 
 
ROME. 207 
 
 This was well enough, for it concerned only him- 
 self; but when he added, " And I do not believe 
 it inspires or moves any one," he put his miser- 
 able little pint-measure as the standard against 
 the quart of many others, and the grand old 
 place itself. For the Forum, with its pictur- 
 esqueness, its romance, its historic association, 
 and its air of desolation and melancholy, does 
 move and inspire. With its long line of shat- 
 tered columns and statues, rich and varied in 
 color and design, lying in the golden sunlight, 
 it meets every requirement of the picturesque; 
 with its remains of the temple of Vesta, and the 
 quaint story of the vestal virgins, etc., it is not 
 lacking in the nature of the romantic; with the 
 distinct outline of public buildings identified 
 with the golden age of the old city, it is brimful 
 with the historic; while in the stately columns 
 and pediments of classic temples, and the great 
 heavy masses of sombre arches, stained, dis- 
 colored, and shattered by time, it is permeated 
 with the spirit of poetry, sentiment, and song. 
 
 It is only a wide, ditch-like excavation, in the 
 heart of the historic city, some four hundred and 
 fifty by fourteen or fifteen hundred feet. One 
 stands in the modern street and looks down some 
 twenty-five feet into the yawning space, and sees 
 the great blocks of the ancient city pavements, 
 the foundation of temples and bases of the 
 
208 RIBS OF AN OLD HULK. 
 
 columns of the old Basilica, all so well defined, 
 so surrounded by broken fragments of frieze, 
 cornice, capital, and column, that it is easy to 
 picture its original chaste and classic grandeur. 
 Still standing, beautiful and pathetic, are columns 
 supporting pediments, and the one great trium- 
 phal arch of Septimus Severus ; near by the 
 single " column with a buried base," as called 
 by Byron; farther on three stately, time -tinted 
 columns, supporting the right angle of a cornice 
 the remnant of the temple of Vespasian; eight 
 unfluted columns in a row, called the temple of 
 Saturn; and three beautiful columns known as 
 the temple of Castor. The foundations and mar- 
 ble floors of many buildings and temples well- 
 nigh cover the space. There the marbles lie, 
 like the scattered ribs of an old stranded hulk, 
 tossed to and fro by tempests and storms along 
 the shore. There the historian and the arch- 
 aeologist may revel in the story of the past; and 
 the every-day tourist may loiter, and picture the 
 day when Rome was at her zenith. Overlooking 
 it are the mighty ruins of the old palaces upon 
 the Palatine hill. Across one end is the great, 
 homely pile of the capitol, from which an ex- 
 quisite view is obtained, framed in by the open- 
 work of an arched doorway. Along the Via 
 Sacra one may walk a little way from it and 
 pass through and under the grand old triumphal 
 
ROME. 209 
 
 arch of Titus, with its interior bass-reliefs of the 
 procession bearing the seven-branched candle- 
 stick from the Temple at Jerusalem. In plain 
 sight, a little farther on, is the grandest and 
 most sublime ruin of ancient Eome, — the well- 
 known Coliseum. So familiar is every one 
 with this old ruin, that it never surprises or dis- 
 appoints, although its vast extent and colossal 
 proportions well-nigh overwhelm. That such an 
 immense structure should have been required "to 
 make a Roman holiday " now seems incredible. 
 
 One may indulge in historic reminiscence, 
 poetical revery, or artistic imagery within its 
 walls ; for there is an abundance of material for 
 each and all. In former years, the interior was 
 mantled with ivy, and branches of dwarf shrubs 
 waved to and fro, and yellow-tasselled wild- 
 flowers swayed in every breeze. But now the 
 walls, in the interest of preservation, are bare 
 and desolate. Doubtless they have gained in 
 safety, but they have lost immensely in pictur- 
 esqueness and poetic expression. 
 
 Nothing in the grand old city will compare in 
 beauty or grandeur with the curving outside 
 walls of the Coliseum, with their rows of arches 
 rising in tiers one above another. When the 
 slanting rays of the afternoon sun fall upon 
 them, their rich, tawny hue takes the tint of 
 burnished and reddened gold, and is indescrib- 
 
 VOL. II. — 14 
 
210 RIBS OF AN OLD HULK. 
 
 ably beautiful. The full moon, however, reveals 
 the most glorious effects; for then the old hulk 
 and the ribs, scattered all along the melancholy 
 way to the capitol, are invested with a new 
 charm. With beneficent power the silvery light 
 softens the rough wounds of time and decay, and 
 the gleam of white marble, in columns, shattered 
 capitals, and pediments, contrasts gently with 
 ebon shadows. In the Coliseum is a stillness 
 that may be felt, a rich, varied effect of light 
 and shadow; and flitting forms of tourists 
 alone break the profound repose. It is solemn 
 and impressive, at the same time fascinating and 
 delightful. 
 
 So, as an old hulk may lie embedded upon the 
 shore of the sea, while its ribs and timbers are 
 tossed and scattered along the beach, a sad and 
 melancholy picture of what once has been; and 
 the ships of to-day, full of prosperity and life, 
 go sailing gayly by these old picturesque and 
 wonderful ruins, — so the hulk and ribs of proud 
 and ancient Rome lie to-day with a new life 
 surging about them, a new and glorious city 
 crowding them, and a new nationality in United 
 Italy, far surpassing in its work for humanity 
 the golden era they recall. 
 
Amalfi. 
 
A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 
 
 L'OUVERTURE. 
 
 Along the highways of southern Italy are often 
 met groups of merry, laughing women, carrying 
 upon their backs immense fagots, or bundles of 
 sticks, brush, and stubble. With their rich, 
 olive-brown complexions; hair tangled over fore- 
 head and eyes; erect figures and firm step, and 
 their motley costumes (many of "rags and tags," 
 as if "the beggars have come to town"), — skirts 
 caught up in a style much in vogue in the fash- 
 ionable world a few years ago ; grotesque, laced 
 bodices, with here and there a bit of bright color, 
 — they certainly add a most picturesque feature 
 to the scene. 
 
 So, as one loiters in the shady nooks, or saun- 
 ters along the varied shores of the Gulf of Sa- 
 lerno, unconsciously is gathered a great fagot 
 of memories, — a few sticks, a little brush, and 
 perchance much stubble. 
 
 A large majority of the tourists who visit 
 Naples content themselves with " doing " Vesu- 
 vius, Pompeii, Sorrento, and the Blue Grotto. 
 
212 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 
 
 And yet, within thirty miles by rail, lies a drive 
 which in beauty, picturesqueness, and grandeur 
 surpasses even the famous Corniche road along 
 the Eiviera di Ponente. The north coast of the 
 Gulf of Salerno is a rapid and startling succes- 
 sion of wild, rugged headlands, jutting boldly 
 into the sea, alternating with numberless deep, 
 romantic coves of great variety and beauty. The 
 mountains do not "fool around " and take two or 
 three miles inland to reach their lofty standard ; 
 they do not even "stand upon the order of their 
 going, but go at once," — often springing pre- 
 cipitously and perpendicularly from the sea, and 
 always rising very steeply and to great heights. 
 Often they seem like great, detached, rollicking, 
 tumultuous masses of waves or clouds, tossed 
 wildly and picturesquely high in air, and then 
 suddenly arrested, — crystallized into enduring 
 adamant, to be a joy and a surprise to the scenery- 
 lover forever. Sometimes the mighty rocks, as 
 if riven by some terrific convulsion of Nature, 
 stand sheer and grim ; again, they seem to pul- 
 sate in graceful wave-forms; and, anon, rise in 
 great, bowlder-like masses, which look in the 
 distance like strong watch-towers on the ruins of 
 extensive fortifications. And the little, deeply- 
 recessed coves — with their romantic shadows and 
 lines of tender grace, their pebbly shores, with 
 the waves of the tideless sea lapping quietly 
 
THE GULF OF SALERNO. 213 
 
 upon their sands — are full of bewitching grace 
 and fascinating beauty. Every foot that man 
 controls to-day along this rugged, craggy coast, 
 numberless headlands and continuous indenta- 
 tions, has been wrenched and filched, by fierce 
 efforts, patient labor, and tremendous exertion. 
 The shore is so bold and wall-like in some places 
 that even by the water it has the appearance of 
 continuous fortifications or ramparts; and fre- 
 quently, upon some prominent point, or low- 
 lying rock down by the sea, is seen a quaint, 
 square, machicolated tower of stone, grim, 
 defiant, and massive, — a succession of which 
 was built about a mile or less apart, by Charles 
 V., as a protection against the raids of pirates. 
 
 Along this irregular, bold, and ragged coast- 
 line of inhospitable mountains has been con- 
 structed, at immense outlay of labor and ex- 
 penditure, a superb "High road," some twelve 
 miles in length. Eventually this road will 
 round the peninsula, and form a continuous route 
 to Sorrento ; but at the rate of present progress, 
 two or three more decades will pass ere it is 
 accomplished. Sometimes hewn like a terrace 
 or shelf from the side of the precipitous cliffs; 
 often carried across ravines or chasms, upon 
 viaducts of masonry anywhere from one hundred 
 to five hundred feet above the sea; hanging in 
 places perilously over the waters below, and fre- 
 
214 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 
 
 quently bending in some cove to the water's 
 edge, — it affords, as one drives along over its 
 smooth surface, a succession of breathlessly beau- 
 tiful and charming landscape views and effects. 
 Little villages and hamlets hug the bare, cold 
 breasts of the mountains. Perseverance and 
 patience have wrested, by means of countless 
 terraces, space for extensive lemon-plantations 
 and orange-groves. Because of these really fine 
 and handsome terraces, rising often in thirty to 
 fifty tiers, faced with smooth, compact walls, the 
 mountain-sides often look as if guarded and 
 covered with elaborate and expensive fortifica- 
 tions, like "Ehrenbreitstein," upon the Rhine. 
 The lemon is not grown here like the orange. A 
 flat trellis or arbor covers the whole terrace, and 
 upon this are trained the long, slender branches, 
 so that beneath it is like a vine-covered roof, 
 hung with countless pendants of luscious, yellow 
 fruit. As one drives along the road, and looks 
 upward, the under side of the trellises are fre- 
 quently visible, — a beautiful sight, because of 
 the deep-green glossy foliage, flecked as with 
 myriads of golden balls. The orange-trees, on 
 the contrary, stand out alone, like our apples, 
 and are always a study of lovely color and strong 
 contrast. 
 
 As one passes along this exquisite drive, the 
 mountains close in upon him in a bewildering 
 
THE GULF OF SALERNO. 215 
 
 variety of fantastic forms and shapes; but 
 always, as far as sight can penetrate, stretch the 
 gleaming waters of the blue Mediterranean. 
 Frequently, in apparently inaccessible points, 
 stand out the gray walls of ruined monasteries, 
 — regular mountain eyries. To the east and 
 south-eastward lie slumbering in the sunlight the 
 Calabrian hills or mountains, at times covered 
 with snow, and rich in opaline tints and pris- 
 matic effects. It is a combination of the Rhine, 
 with its ruined and picturesque castles; the 
 Eiviera, w r ith its deeply indented coast and 
 bold headlands ; and Switzerland, with its 
 snow-clad mountain-range, tinged with color, 
 and flashing with light. But it is far more 
 picturesque and fine than the Eiviera. It is the 
 Riviera compressed, the Rhine "long drawn 
 out," — and a vision of changing scene and dis- 
 solving view, to linger perpetually in the 
 memory, as a harmony of sweet sounds seems 
 to tremble in the air long after it is spent. 
 
 Midway between Victri and Amalfi, upon the 
 Salerno coast, close by the low-lying and sandy 
 shore of a wide, sunny bay, just where the beau- 
 tiful, narrow valley of Tramonti opens toward 
 the sea, lies the little town of Majori. A half 
 to three quarters of a mile beyond, in a deep, 
 narrow, shadowy indentation of the coast, is that 
 of Minori. (Majori and Minori, the major and 
 
216 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 
 
 the minor, or the elder and the younger, as 
 you may please.) Inhospitable as the coast 
 appears, it teems with a busy population. The 
 terraces, with immense numbers of lemon and 
 fruit plantations, demonstrate the industry of 
 the people, while the little towns are busy with 
 macaroni-factories and paper-mills. 
 
 Majori is a pretty village, with one wide, 
 smoothly -paved street, and, like the surf tossed 
 up against the steep hillsides, most picturesque 
 piles of irregular houses clustered around a 
 cathedral with dome of gay tiles. Great squares 
 of sacking lie in the wide street, upon which, in 
 various stages of drying, are wheat and prepara- 
 tions of macaroni pastes. Many plain "fisher 
 folk " may be seen busy with their nets or ves- 
 sels by the sea, while some very creditable boat- 
 building is done along its shore. 
 
 We had a droll experience in one of the shops 
 close to a little "Cafe Americano!" Wishing 
 some cotton batting to wrap around a lame limb, 
 we asked, with some misgivings, if they had it. 
 "Oui!" replied the little man; and, turning, 
 lifted down a box, and opening it, displayed, 
 with perfect complacency, a dozen balls of 
 crochet cotton in various colors! Explaining 
 that that which we wanted was white and long, 
 he answered quickly "Oui! Oui! 77 and went 
 out, coming back, in blissful confidence, with 
 
MAJORI. 217 
 
 two long skeins of white darning-cotton. Then 
 we thought to try the universal sign-language. 
 Taking a piece of paper we laid it upon the 
 counter, rolling it up; and then unrolling it, I 
 wound it around my knee. The puzzled face 
 lightened. Evidently the little merchant had 
 " caught on " ! " Oui ! Oui ! Oui ! " he exclaimed, 
 and disappeared beneath the counter. Rising a 
 moment later with face radiant with success, he 
 held in his outstretched hand — a pair of scarlet 
 cotton garters with silver clasps ! We left, feel- 
 ing it was as near the "Order of the Garter" as 
 we would be likely to come, and recalling that 
 in London they did not know what we meant by 
 cotton batting, because they call it " cotton wool." 
 Half way between Majori and Minori, upon 
 the extreme end of a rocky headland, is perched, 
 high above the waters, trembling like a raindrop 
 in mid-air, the " Hotel Torre," — our headquar- 
 ters for three sunny weeks, — with nothing 
 between it and the sea, a hundred feet below, 
 save the high road, which clings like a battle- 
 ment to the front of the cliff, half way to the 
 gulf beneath. In the olden, prosperous days it 
 was the " Manor House w of the Monte Rosa 
 family, who held slaves, and controlled an 
 immense tract of land. By marriage it passed 
 into the possession of the Mezzo Capo family, 
 the later branches of which are not identified 
 
218 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 
 
 with this part of Italy. So, although remodelled 
 into a French chateau, and a most conspicuous 
 feature in the landscape, it has fallen to the 
 base uses of a hotel. But with its huge round 
 corner towers; its marble porch and balconies, 
 and its lovely terrace, lifted as it were in the 
 air, like a hanging-garden; and its magnificent 
 outlook along the rugged coast, and its superb 
 sweep over the blue sea, — it is charming, 
 although not very comfortable. Upon the little, 
 sunlit terrace large evergreens cast cool shadows ; 
 graceful palms wave to and fro; blossoming 
 shrubs and pretty flower-borders, and long, trail- 
 ing rose-vines and ivy give a summery aspect. 
 One may sit there by the hour in the genial sun- 
 shine, with a stillness most profound, and gaze 
 dreamily over the gleaming waters, and realize 
 to the full the restfulness of the old woman's 
 ideal of heaven, — "a doing of nothing, forever 
 and ever." 
 
 The morning after our arrival we heard music; 
 and, looking down from our balcony, saw a 
 picturesque and characteristic sight. Before the 
 marble entrance-staircase upon the terrace were 
 a man and woman, most gayly and picturesquely 
 costumed, reciting verses, singing, and dancing 
 to the music of a large organ. They were only 
 a group of strolling players; but as we looked 
 down and saw these gay, laughing figures, danc- 
 
MAJOR! 219 
 
 ing in the sunlight among the evergreens and 
 the palms, we were reminded of " Pascarel " and 
 "Brunotta," Ouida's wonderful creations, and 
 the " Sunny Italy " of poetry and song. 
 
 There is nothing here to do but to walk or 
 drive. Our walks have been confined to the high 
 road; for to climb these rugged and tempting 
 hillsides is "too much like work." Yet we 
 rarely go out without encountering something 
 droll or characteristic. This portion of Italy 
 may well be called the " land of the outstretched 
 hand;" for go where we will, "old men and 
 maidens, young men and children," as soon as 
 they lay eyes upon us, stretch out their hands 
 for "centissimi." Life here certainly looks 
 hard. I never saw such burdens carried upon 
 the backs, nor such trunks of heavy merchandise 
 dragged by women before. Yet they all seem 
 happy. It seems to me our " lower classes " 
 have the semblance of a home; but here they 
 only grovel, and one's heart grows heavy at 
 the hard, soulless sort of life that just goes on 
 and on like a treadmill, with no hope or chance 
 of development or elevation. But with taxes at 
 sixty-seven per cent, and a standing army of 
 four hundred thousand able-bodied men, the 
 prospect is not enlivening. Could these but 
 beat their swords into ploughshares, and their 
 spears into pruning-hooks, and "tickle the soil," 
 
220 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 
 
 fair Italy might again become a land flowing 
 with riches and gladness. 
 
 Italian nomenclature, like our Indian, is full 
 of poetry and music. Majori lies at the opening 
 of a narrow, tortuous little valley, in which the 
 views and lights are unusually fine at close of 
 day, and so they call it "Val di Tranionti," — 
 the "Valley of the Setting Sun." Being told it 
 was a beautiful drive, we had one sunny after 
 noon a landau, three horses, monogram, coach- 
 man, and a boy perched up behind, " a la tiger, " 
 and were gone three and a half hours. As we 
 struck inland, for a while we feared we had made 
 a mistake, for it was so like everything else. 
 Somehow, tourists get demoralized and must 
 have novelty all the time, or they feel a little 
 defrauded. But it was not long before we blessed 
 "the ass that carried us," although we wondered 
 frequently if " the horse would throw us " before 
 the day was done. The narrow valley ere long 
 opened into a wide expanse; the great mountains 
 rose in beautiful and distant outline; and in 
 many a wild depression in the hillsides appeared 
 villages, hamlets, old monasteries, and ancient 
 churches. The thrift and industry of the people 
 here are wonderful; for in places that seem only 
 fit to touch a match to, will be seen terrace after 
 terrace, made with smooth, handsome walls, with 
 infinite patience and herculean effort, that are 
 
VAL DI TRAMONTI. 221 
 
 bright with orange, olive, or grape culture, and 
 great variety of garden truck. 
 
 As we ascended by the road, which repeatedly 
 doubles upon itself, we caught many a lovely 
 vision, and looked down in the depths of the 
 valley upon numerous paper-mills, with the 
 water carried in little flumes, which at that dis- 
 tance gleamed like silver threads, thrown by a 
 shuttle across some fabric of variegated greens 
 and browns. Far away, against the lofty hori- 
 zon, in a break or pass in the mountain-summit, 
 was visible always a huge, lonely stone tower, the 
 point to which we were bound. We would 
 seem comparatively near; we would round some 
 spur or projection and lose all sight of it, and 
 when it came in view again, lo ! it seemed miles 
 and miles away. The great mountains toward 
 whose summits we were nearing were powdered 
 lightly with snow. It seemed lone and drear, 
 and yet on every side were vineyards and well- 
 tilled fields. The husbandman turning the soil; 
 the vine-dressers trimming the trellised vines; 
 the wood-cutters stopping in their work and 
 staring at us; and the women, with great fagots 
 upon their backs, trudging down the hill-road, 
 constantly suggested the homely peasant-life 
 Millet has so effectively dignified and beautifully 
 canvased. Had " L ? Angelus " sounded from the 
 distant tower, and these peasants paused in their 
 
222 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 
 
 homely work, and bowed reverently in prayer, it 
 would have seemed in perfect harmony with the 
 quiet scene, — the blue, smoky air and the great, 
 restful hill-country, which lay embosomed within 
 a swelling amphitheatre of snow-capped, lofty 
 mountains. 
 
 The fine road is now only finished to the sum- 
 mit of the pass. There stand the remains, gray 
 and grim, of the fortress built to defend it in 
 the days when "the chief end of man " seems to 
 have been to kill somebody or destroy something! 
 These consist of two old structures and a mighty, 
 symmetrical round tower. We stepped out and 
 walked a few hundred feet, expecting to look 
 only along a narrow mountain-defile, with Vesu- 
 vius, an insignificant mound, in the distance. 
 Never were we more surprised ; for there broke 
 upon us, in an instant, a vision which in our 
 memory will rank second to no view, save that 
 of the glorious Jungfrau, at Interlachen. The 
 mountain seemed to drop suddenly away; the 
 ranges parted like a huge gateway; and down, 
 down, before us, lay a long, sweeping, level 
 plain of tend'erest, most delicate, and springlike 
 green, dotted with white villages (Pompeii, and 
 others), checkered with country roads, while far 
 away, against the sky, rose the great, beautiful 
 cone of Vesuvius, with the attending ragged 
 Somma heights. The great cloud of smoke from 
 
VAL DI TRAMONTI. 223 
 
 the crater (like incense of perpetual sacrifice 
 upon a mighty altar), depressed by the wind, 
 lay along one side of the cone-like mountain, 
 like a soft and wondrous plume. The sun- 
 light lay warm upon it; the hazy air added to 
 the dreamy and phantom-like effect. It looked 
 so calm and peaceful upon the sunlit plain, and 
 the old mountain seemed so harmless, that it was 
 difficult to realize that, as one day mightier vil- 
 lages than these were suddenly obliterated and 
 buried out of sight, so some day a terrible mass 
 of "scoriae," steam, and lava may again devastate 
 and sweep all sign of the present busy, teeming 
 life from the face of the earth. It was, never- 
 theless, a very pretty and striking picture, as 
 seen from that Pisgah height. 
 
 As we drove down the valley upon our return, 
 the outlook seemed entirely changed, because we 
 were looking down, and not upward. Many a 
 pretty vista opened before us, and always in the 
 distance was a triangular piece of blue, — the 
 Mediterranean, seen through the mountains that 
 guard the opening of the valley; and all along 
 the way were myriads of pink -lipped daisies, 
 pale crocuses, and great masses of lilac and wild 
 rosemary, making the green banks quite garden- 
 like. So ended our visit to the pass and tower 
 of Chiunzo, twenty-two hundred and fifty feet 
 above the sea. 
 
224 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 
 
 Along this rugged shore everything seems a 
 part of a romance and a story. Way up, upon 
 an apparently inaccessible mountain-height, we 
 see the picturesque and extensive ruined walls of 
 an old monastery, from which two popes have 
 been chosen. 
 
 Upon the bay side of the precipitous mountain- 
 spur upon which our hotel stands is a lofty and 
 dry cavern, with masonry piers and arches, and 
 in its depths is seen the sculptured prow of an 
 old vessel. And " thereby hangs a tale." A 
 hundred years or more ago the head of the House 
 brought a fair bride from Venice in this very 
 vessel, and all these long years it has been 
 unused, but cared for because of its loving ser- 
 vice. "Men may come and men may go," but 
 the good little barque lies there forever. 
 
 Day after day we hoped to be able to visit 
 Paestum ; but knowing that the keen north wind, 
 from which the mountains protected us, swept 
 that desolate plain without obstruction, we waited 
 until it seemed as if we " would die without the 
 sight." But "patient waiting" proved no loss, 
 for February 21 was almost windless, the sea 
 was calm, the sky clear, and the day seemed 
 made for just such an outing. At 7.20 we were 
 off. Oh, the beauty, solemn, still, and glorious, 
 of that early morning beside the boundless south- 
 ern sea! We drove merrily along the wonderful 
 
A DAY AT PAESTUM. 225 
 
 road, by which, quite three weeks ago, we came. 
 The coast seemed more irregular, the headlands 
 more prominent, the coves and indentations more 
 deep, the mighty mountains more fantastic in 
 shapes, and the road itself more startling than 
 ever, — now swinging low, now bounding as in 
 mid-air; clinging to the face of steep acclivities, 
 or to the base of fearful precipices; curling, ser- 
 pent-like, along indentations and over rocky pro- 
 jections; and always with some wondrous view 
 of monumental cliffs and peaks, or bold mountain- 
 side and magnificent peerless sweep over blue, 
 tideless waters, toward the Calabrian range, 
 glistening in the morning sun. 
 
 Such variety of form and color ; such combina- 
 tions of picturesque villages, ruined piles, strange 
 fantastic tossings of lofty mountains; near effects 
 of exquisite beauty, because of the deep green 
 and glorious golden sheen of orange and lemon 
 plantations, and blue, gleaming waters ; and dis- 
 tant glories of mountain peaks, lying like clouds 
 against a horizon of tenderest hue, rarely comes 
 twice, even in an European tour. . The great 
 mountains, along the sides of which we were 
 bowling so joyfully, shut out the rising sun, but 
 not the glorious lighting up of the skies, — the 
 magnificent melting and blending of amber and 
 golden gloss and the weird and magic effect of 
 the unfolding day upon prominent and distant 
 
 VOL. II. — 15 
 
226 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 
 
 points. We could "only wonder and adore; " for 
 between the rapidly changing outlook, because 
 of varying position, we were kept in a thrill and 
 ecstasy of delight. Finally the sun bounded 
 clear of mountain and hill, commenced its 
 unbeclouded way, and flooded the scene with 
 delicious warmth and exuberant gladness. 
 
 Salerno, the terminus of our drive, lies by the 
 sea about eight miles from our hotel. It is a 
 place of much business importance, with some 
 twenty thousand inhabitants, and a wonderful 
 ancient history of the ninth and twelfth centu- 
 ries. It has now a residency of great wealth, 
 and in summer is a favorite resort of Italian 
 aristocracy. Traces of its former greatness may 
 be seen in the facades upon the narrow streets 
 of the old town. The modern town is well built 
 up, but it all has the strange, mixed look of filth,, 
 slatternliness, and imposing structure, that seem 
 inseparable from all Italian towns. Near the 
 sea are beautiful gardens, and a theatre, that 
 looks as if it could accommodate all the popula- 
 tion likely to scrape together the entrance-fee. 
 
 At Battapaglia we took a branch road for thir- 
 teen miles, to Paestum. At 11.30 we alighted, 
 passed through a station with gardens of bloom- 
 ing rosemary and purple stock, walked for five 
 minutes across a level plain, hidden from all 
 view by a high, solid stone-wall. We turned 
 
A DAY AT PAESTUM. 227 
 
 the corner, or end, and our hearts stood still! 
 for there upon the wind-swept, sun-scorched, 
 desolate plain, rose in solitary, solemn, and 
 impressive simplicity and grandeur the ancient 
 ruined temples, which for long years we had so 
 wished to see. A few minutes more brought us 
 to the gateway, where the customary " franc " is 
 demanded. Above the window is this notice: 
 " It is forbidden to enter in antiquities diggings 
 before sunrise and to remain there after sunset," 
 — which is a good example of "English as she is 
 spoke " in this country ! 
 
 Baedaeker says that under the name of the 
 city of Neptune, a settlement was founded here 
 by the Greeks six hundred years before Christ. 
 After the usual experience of those days of war, 
 conquest, and pillage, it fell into the hands of 
 the Eomans, who, in 273 before Christ, founded 
 the colony of Paestum. It gradually fell into 
 decay, and was devastated by the Saracens in 
 the ninth century; and in the eleventh it was 
 despoiled of its sculptures, etc., and for centu- 
 ries lay in desolation. Nothing conspicuous 
 now remains but the old city walls and watch- 
 tower, two stately temples, and a so-called 
 "Basilica;" but they are grand and impressive 
 beyond description. The Basilica is of stone, of 
 grayish, silvery tint, and consists of an oblong 
 enclosure with sixteen columns at each side and 
 
228 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 
 
 nine at each end, supporting a single cornice. 
 The huge columns taper in a sort of curve, and 
 have capitals of queer, mushroom effect. Central 
 columns divide it into two apartments; and this 
 is all. But a few hundred feet from it stands 
 the temple of Neptune, which still displays most 
 satisfactorily the simple majesty and the security 
 of construction peculiar to the best age of Greek 
 architecture. It is in such a state of preserva- 
 tion that imagination has to furnish but little. 
 Columns, cornices, and pediment are all there, 
 and although a "little nicked, almost as good as 
 new." It is one hundred and eighty -nine feet 
 long, has thirty-six fluted Doric columns at each 
 side and six at each end, all seven and one half 
 feet in diameter and twenty-eight feet in height. 
 In the interior are two rows, of seven columns 
 each, above which is a row of smaller ones, which 
 originally supported the roof. The color of this 
 temple is a tawny, yellowish brown, shaded to a 
 mellow, dull gold. A quarter of a mile away, 
 stands, upon a slight elevation, the small temple 
 of Ceres, or Vesta, with columns, cornice, and 
 pediment. 
 
 So much for history and architecture. Some- 
 how we cared little for the past, still less for the 
 measurements, and literally nothing for the use 
 or object of them ; but enjoyed to the full, pressed 
 down and running over, the romantic, poetic, 
 
— 
 
Temple of Neptune, Paestum. 
 
A DAY AT PAESTUM. 229 
 
 and artistic atmosphere and expression of the 
 scene. One is oppressed with the consciousness 
 that all this, with its surroundings of busy, 
 pagan prosperity, once pulsed with rich, power- 
 ful, and lusty life, and now lies dead, — passed 
 away forever ! And yet the Galilean story lives 
 on! We walked around the two stately, impres- 
 sive ruins; looked at the long, imposing row of 
 massive columns, and the exquisite vistas formed 
 by them, and caught the lovely effects of lights 
 and shadows, and the wondrous beauty of the 
 structures, as we gazed upward into the blue 
 heavens; stood enchanted, as we saw, through 
 the length of the Temple of Neptune, the little 
 ribbon of green the sea (no longer blue) made 
 against the sky. Massiveness, grandeur, sub- 
 limity, and strength is the expression of the 
 simple lines of the entire structure, but beauty, 
 delicacy, melancholy, and romance are suggested 
 in the soft blending of brown and russet and gold 
 and yellow, as in a lion's mane and skin, and 
 in the tender, dreamy atmosphere of sadness, 
 desolation, and ruin that rests upon it, and abides 
 with it forever. 
 
 Time has thrown a pall of lovely blending, 
 melting hues and tints over this symbol of a 
 dead and unresurrected past. We loitered about 
 it, and then walking a few hundred feet away 
 saw it first from one angle and then another, 
 
230 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 
 
 and, somehow, the last seemed always the best. 
 And then we walked to an old watch-tower upon 
 the ancient walls, five minutes away; and, stand- 
 ing there, we looked across the desolate plain of 
 tender green with dark patches of asphodel and 
 acanthus, and white gleams of daisies, and caught 
 sight of the ponderous, gigantic, but softly beau- 
 tiful old Temple of Neptune, diagonally, with 
 column, cornice, and pediment, all in simple 
 perfection. It was so still, so grand, so awe- 
 inspiring! It was like looking at the face of 
 kingly, royal dead. There was, withal, a "touch 
 me not" repression about it. One felt it had 
 stood there alone for ages, and that it asked 
 nothing of this workaday, practical age. As a 
 " symphony in browns " it was exquisitely love- 
 ly, — the outer columns in shadow a rich brown; 
 their sun-touched bases a gleaming yellow; the 
 inner columns in full blaze of sun glowing like 
 heated metal; and through it all great slants of 
 brilliant sunshine and broad masses of darkening 
 shadow ; and beyond, the rich green of the sea, 
 and, in the distance, snow-tipped mountains, that 
 seemed to melt in amethystine and opaline tints 
 into the pale sky. It was a weird and beautiful 
 scene, a dream of form and revelation of color, — 
 earth, fair and beautiful; sea, calm and deep, 
 chrysoprase in tint; and sky soft, dreamy, and 
 melting; desolate plain and perfect Greek out- 
 
RAVELLO. 231 
 
 line, and wind-waved asphodel and boss-like 
 acanthus! And yet for symmetry, harmony, 
 and perfect beauty no dream or poem or pic- 
 ture could be more complete. 
 
 We turned reluctantly away at 4 o'clock, 
 took our carriage again at Salerno, and saw the 
 pirate towers, clustered villages, distant island, 
 and far-away mountains burnish and glow with 
 the setting sun, as by fire, and later fade and die 
 away in shadows deep. And when, e'er we 
 reached Majori, the sun was hidden by the nearer 
 western hills, the glorious light still made far- 
 away Salerno by the silent sea sparkle like a 
 jewel, and the Calabrian range of mountains, with 
 their heads of snow, gleam like gates of pearl. 
 
 Along the summit-ridge of a lofty mountain to 
 the westward, and almost directly above our 
 hotel, is a long, straggling mass of ancient villas, 
 churches, and monasteries, — all that remains of 
 the once powerful principality of Eavello. How 
 the mighty have fallen may be judged from the 
 fact that in "the zenith of its prosperity it pos- 
 sessed thirteen churches, numerous palaces, and 
 thirty-six thousand inhabitants," and now its 
 population scarcely numbers two thousand souls. 
 But the drive there is a lovely one, and the place 
 is very interesting, because of fine specimens of 
 Moorish architecture. We passed along the road 
 overhanging the sea for a mile or two, and then, 
 
232 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 
 
 by a road doubling repeatedly upon itself, struck 
 inland, and climbed a spur of the mountain, with 
 views of changing and exquisite loveliness at 
 every turn, and emerged upon the beautiful val-' 
 ley of Atrani. A smooth and beautiful road, 
 with protecting outer wall, led us on and on, 
 sometimes for a long way as if propped on the 
 hillside or hanging in mid-air, and then by zig- 
 zags to greater heights, always with striking 
 views, down into the ravine-like valley and 
 across upon the opposite mountain-side, terraced 
 and terraced, sometimes in fifty rows, and with 
 the most wild, picturesque ruins of fortresses and 
 castles upon the very summits of the rough and 
 jagged crags. Often it was difficult to distin- 
 guish rock or crag from ruined towers and walls, 
 so perfectly did they harmonize in outline and 
 color. One side of the valley the immense lofty 
 rocks, for hundreds of feet above us, seemed 
 scooped out as by some mighty, rushing flood. 
 All along were the wonderful, fortress-like ter- 
 races covered, not as below with lemon-groves, 
 but by vigorous vineyards. Quite a celebrated 
 white wine is produced here, not unlike the 
 better brands of Ehine wine. After all, words 
 give little idea of this deep, narrow valley with 
 its fine roads, lonely monasteries, and ancient 
 buildings huddled together in most picturesque 
 fashion. 
 
RAVELLO. 233 
 
 Finally we emerged in a small open plaza, 
 before the old, eleventh -century cathedral, a 
 building of no interest, but containing an 
 "ambone" (a box-like pulpit from which the 
 Gospels were read), which surpassed anything 
 of the kind that we saw in the Eternal City. 
 Box-like in shape, supported by columns resting 
 upon the backs of lions of white marble, deli- 
 cately sculptured in cornices and bands and 
 panels, inlaid with the finest Byzantine mosaic 
 of gold and brilliant pigments, it is worth a jour- 
 ney to see. In the forlorn old church of San 
 Giovanni we found a pulpit of the same charac- 
 ter, some portions of which were like the borders 
 of an illuminated missal. Exquisite in execu- 
 tion, and sumptuous in detail, both in jewel- 
 like mosaic and richly-wrought marble, it 
 seems a pity they are hidden away in so obscure 
 a place. 
 
 Close by are the grounds and mansion of a 
 wealthy Scotchman. The house and tower and 
 various remains are Saracenic in style, and are 
 most picturesque and beautiful, and are sur- 
 rounded by grounds in wide terraces, laid out 
 with flower-borders, and abounding in palms, 
 cypresses, and evergreens. The view is simply 
 indescribable. One seems lifted or suspended in 
 the air, — the mountain slopes steeply away, in 
 the depths lies the sea, shimmering in golden 
 
234 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 
 
 light, and far away are the mountains and the 
 Calabrian Hills, lost in opaline mists. 
 
 " As the bird flies," Amalfi does not seem far 
 away from our eyrie; but, owing to the irregu- 
 larities and indentations of the coast, it is a drive 
 of fully four miles. It is most exhilarating and 
 exciting to dash along a road that one moment 
 hugs the mountain, the next swoops like a bird 
 down to the water's edge, then through little 
 villages and around headlands and into deep 
 coves, and at last suddenly to face the full pano- 
 rama of the bay and town of Amalfi, warm and 
 sunny in the sheltering embrace of everlasting 
 hills, — a vision of peaceful and transcendent 
 loveliness. High up, as upon a ledge, in the 
 face of the opposite mountain, is seen the old 
 Capuchin Monastery, now a hotel, some two 
 hundred and thirty feet above the sea. Queer 
 that a monastery built in 1212 should in 1891 be 
 occupied as a hotel ! The old cells are white and 
 attractive, and the central hall is now a dining- 
 room. Quaint and pretty cloisters open upon a 
 terrace, opposite which a huge cave in the moun- 
 tain-side is fitted up with the scene upon Calvary. 
 From the opposite end, stretched upon a narrow 
 ledge, is a long, embowered walk, with the cliff 
 rising sheer upon one side, and dropping away 
 as abruptly upon the other. Great clusters of 
 glorious white and pink roses hung over the 
 
AMALFI. 235 
 
 trellis, and spring flowers in profusion bloomed 
 upon either side of the walk. The view is un- 
 surpassed for loveliness: down upon the sunny 
 bay; out upon the sapphire sea; over the pictur- 
 esque town of Amalfi: across to towering moun- 
 tains crowned with solitary towers, and far away 
 toward the hyacinthine range of Calabria. Time 
 was when Amalfi with its wealth and fifty 
 thousand inhabitants was a world-wide power. 
 Longfellow has sung sweetly of the old Capuchin 
 Monastery outlook, and Eogers has versed its 
 glorious record in melodious rhyme. 
 
 " When at length they fell, they left mankind 
 A legacy, compared with which the wealth 
 Of eastern kings, — what is it in the scale ? 
 The mariners' compass." 
 
 The sea, centuries ago, undermined the town, 
 and subsequent inundations and war and pillage 
 have left only a busy, modern village of seven 
 thousand inhabitants. But the fine old eleventh- 
 century cathedral, a striking example of the 
 Lombard-Norman style, still stands with facade 
 of alternate layers of black and white, and a 
 deep portico with marble screen-work. In the 
 crypt lie the remains of Saint Andrew, the 
 apostle who, leaving his nets, followed the Lord 
 and was made a "fisher of men." 
 
236 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 
 
 L'ENVOI! 
 
 Our three sunny weeks, ten days of which the 
 north wind had made Naples and its suburbs, 
 thirty miles away, unendurable, were ended. 
 Our fagot of sticks along Salerno's shore was 
 gathered. Decorated by the portly proprietor 
 with boutonnieres of lovely flowers from the 
 terrace, we were seated in a carriage, and all 
 things were ready. Suddenly he who had been 
 all smiles and good wishes seemed to realize it 
 was no time for mirth. The light faded from 
 his face; the eyes drooped mournfully, and with 
 hand across his portly bosom, and head bowed as 
 low as his rotund figure allowed, he stood a 
 picture of grief, at which we could not help 
 laughing, as we bowled merrily away toward 
 "fresh fields and pastures new." 
 
 
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