LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. Chap o^.i Copyright No.. Shelf..G.^!J UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 'i'^^,^ BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS By-gone Tourist Days Letters of Travel By LAURA G. COLLINS Author of ** Immortelles and Asphodels" ILLUSTRATED ** I consider letters the most vital part of literature ' — Elizabeth Barrett Browning CINCINNATI THE ROBERT CLARKE COMPANY J900 TWO COPIES RECEIVED, Library Of GcnGTagej Office of tt^ ) Regis-. '.^ THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 40826 Copyright, J899, By The Robert Clarke Company. SECOND COPV. INSCRIPTION* Respectfully inscribed to the dear friends to whom the letters were written, and by them preserved* CONTENTS. lyONDON Letter — April 7, 1882, . . . i Trip on the Atlantic — The Steamer Adriatic — Storm on the Ocean — Chester — English Cathedrals — ^To Liver- pool — Chatsworth — Stratford — The 318th Anniversary of Shakespeare — Oxford — Magdalen College — "Addi- son's Walk" — New College — Sir Joshua Rejrnolds- Window — At Warwick — Bodlean Library — Ashmolean;;/ Museimi — SpofiFord Brooks and Canon Liddon. London Letter — June 11, 1882, . . .16' Seeing London — Advantage of being in a great city — The boarding-house, just for Americans — Windsor Palace — Gray's grave — Moncure Conway — Canon Par- rar — Bostonians — ^American Cousins — From London on. the way to Scotland. From London to Edinburgh — ^July 4, 1882, 22 Four hours at York — The Nuns of St. Leonard's Hos- pital—St. Mary's Abbey— "The Five Sisters "—New- castle-on-Tyne— Durham— The Cathedral— St. Cuthbert — The Tomb of Bede — The Legend of Bede — Wandering minstrels — Scenery on the route — The sunset — A Scotch lady — List of tourists. ScoTivAND Letter — ^July 21, 1882, . . 32 Edinburgh — Holyrood Palace — Castle with relics of Mary Queen of Scots — Alexander Swift says — Of traveling — Dumf ermline — The Abbey of Robert Bruce — Newbattle Abbey. Cvii) viii CONTENTS. Hejidelberg IvE;ttkr — August 1 6, 1882, . . 38 In Heidelberg — The Neckar — The places I have been — Sketches over the line of travel — ^The scenes visited from England to Heidelberg. Hb;ide;i,be;rg I,e;tte;r — September 3, 1882, . 41 Heidelberg; this is home — From Nuremberg — ^The en- chantment and charms of the old city — ^The streets, buildings, bridges, churches, museums and galleries- Masterpieces of Durer, Kraft, Stoss and Vischer — ^The works of numerous artists — ^The lime tree — The lamp that has been lighted since 1326 — The crown princess — The Exposition — Going back some day — ^A day of rest — Cape Colony English ladies — My traveling companion. Badkn-Badkn — September 19, 1882, , . .44 Heidelberg on the Neckar — The castle, the Jettenbiihl — "Das Grosse Pass" — Mapping out Switzerland — The floods— In the Gardens— The Black Forest- The Oos— The trees on the banks — ^To Strassburg. NtTREjMBERG — September 27, 1883, . , .47 From Heidelberg to Nuremberg — Nuremberg the objec- tive point — Ancestors back to 1570 — Up the Neckar — The scenery — Two historic points — Hotels full — Grand Exposition — Superb attractions— Old lime tree — Durer's monument — The princess and family — A wedding — Traveling alone — German lady — At Baden — Friedrichs- bad — The days at Strassburg. Munich IvKTTEr — September 24, 1882, . . 60 Old and New Schloss — Trinkhalle and its waters — ^The great Friedrichsbad — Strassburg Cathedral — The won- derful clock — St. Thomas Church, with monument to Marshal Saxe — ^The Strassburg specialty, pates-de-fois- gras — The attractive city, Constance — Monastery where CONTENTS. ix Huss was imprisoned — The place where Jerome suffered sentence — From Constance to Lindau — The beauty of country and scenery — ^The Alps again — ^Words not equal to doing justice — Innumerable places of attraction — Miinchen, the capital of little Bavaria. MuNCHKN I^:eTTKR — October ii, 1882, . . 64 Visit to royal palace — ^A woman's voice in American Kn- glish — Walks and drives around Munchen — Looking in the shop windows — Picking up pictures — Call at the book-store — "The Ivast Judgment," largest oil painting in the world — Other pictures and sketches — Vesper service — Munich a large city — Neighbors — A Prussian officer. Munich I^dtter — November 18, 1882, . . 77 Letters, letters, letters — An evening with friends — My husband and early childhood — Happy days — Dear hills, beautiful hills, sacred hills — Youthful days — ^The house where I was bom — "The Point" — That "exuberant set" — Another Mrs. C. — Bavarian officer — ^Anticipation of seeing the Alps — A concert — Booth — Letters. MiJNCHE^N IfEl^TKR — November 20, 1882, . . 87 A homesick heart — ^The leaf from a tree — Views about the old homestead — ^The royal family at church — Royal dames — One of the princesses, a beautiful woman — ^The king — The music — ^The church — My religion. Munich Lettkr — December 12, 1882, . . 92 Repetition — Letter of the ' ' altogethery type ' ' — My style — Love, late in life — Indian summer — ' ' That vale of Aber- deen" — Beautiful old ladies — ^That singular death-bed speech — ^The divine musician — French books — Dutch reading — The epic, Nibelungenlied — ^The king's palace. X CONTENTS. Munich Lktt:sr — December 22, 1882, . . loa My counterfeit presentment — The crayon portrait — "Paint me as I am ' ' — About my pictures — The home of my childood — "The Place of Roses " — Les Petites Miseres de la vie Conjugale — Christmas coming — ^What John did — Christmas, Christmas. Munich IvB^TTER — January 2, 1883, '. . . 105 Preparations for Christmas — Bavaria and its kings — ^The public buildings — Music — The house of Wittelsbach dates from mo — ^The Maximilians — ^The king on his death-bed — ^The present king, I,udwig II — His charac- ter — His royal palaces — ^The Gallery of Ancestors — ^The king a poet — His refined taste — The king's spotless reputation — Of the kings. MiJNCHSN lyKTTBR — January 15, 1883, . .117 Christmas and New Years — The scathingest tongue — Christmas tree — The Nibelungenlied in German — Church services — German New Year's Eve — Our frau's banquet. Munich IvKTTER — October 4, 1886, . . . 12& Of writing letters — Ingenious sophism — ^The little girl that prayed — ^The readable letter with a secret — His age — Miss B 's letter — ^A grand gala day — Sunday the open day — The king — Royal family — ^Royal person- ages — Officers of state — A four o'clock tea. t^ARis I/E^'TTER — February 4, 1883, . . . 134. At last in Paradise — From Munich to Paris — The journey a dream — One's own vernacular — View from my private balcony — In sight of the Mackey's palace — Grace Greenwood in Paris — What an enchantment to know places by sight — ^The street scenes — Vast concourse of seething humanity — The weather — The flowers. CONTENTS, XI Paris Lettkr — February 8, 1883, . . .137 To begin — Figures — Not writing for fame or filthy lucre — " Two in one existence " — From Munich to Paris alone — ^The experience of cold — ^The German cars comfort- able — Fallen in love — Paris, I^ondon and Mimich Com- pared — Manufactory of the Gobelins — ^Pompeian palace — Viewing art — Language — Night — Solitude — ^To Italy from Paris. Paris I^e;tter — September i, 1883, . . . 144 In Paris again after six months — Good intentions — Femi- nine interruption — ^A flash of inspiration — ^The lion of sandstone carved in a grotto — ^Trip to the glaciers — First mule ride — Return from the sublime spectacle — ^The de- scent more difficult than the ascent — English ladies — From Interlaken to Bern — Lake Leman — ^The Garden in which Gibbon wrote the conclusion of his great work — Chillon — Passage to Chamony — All the way to Geneva — ^That book — The Pension — The Madame. Paris I^etti^r — Januaay i, 1884, . . .158. Letter — Verses — Christmas Eve — ^Tree party — My hostess and myself — Salutatory an impromptu poem — ^The eve- ning's entertainment — Twelfth Night — I shun sleep — "Characteristics" — Sending the book — A letter from Miss B. — ^The article on Bums — Finis and reflections. Paris Lkttkr — April i, 1884, .... 166 Enjoying Paris in fair weather — President Grevy — ^The numerous entertainments — ^There is no hostess — The musical side of Paris — A pleasant American family — Sunday afternoon concert — The music — The audience — To the Luxembourg with an American girl. Paris Lettejr — December 6, 1885, . . .16^ Letter acknowledged — I am again a wandering star — The xii CONTENTS. delights of travel — ^The poor king who lost his head — Thomas a Becket — Whitehall — Government buildings — Saw Gladstone's and Salisbury's seats — Went to Temple Bar— Old clocks— The cathedral— Vespers at Little St. Martin's — Crossed the Channel — Sight-seeing — Cuvier and Himiboldt — Experiences, drives and sights — Pleas- ant people we met. Paris Lktte;r — December 13, 1886, . . .175 Return delayed by storms — Miss B came from Sweden — Proposed trip on the Nile — ^A line from under old Cheops. Paris IvBTTEjr — March 8, 1887, . . .177 Disappointed about the Jerusalem trip — Contributions from every grand division — No date for sailing — Ladies from Louisville, Ky. — The title of the little book — Madame gives a house-warming — Bloom and beauty. Paris Lbttsr — April 26, 1887, . . .180 Birthday anniversary — Dispensations of conscientiousness — How the days go — The sight-seeing never comes to an end — ^The "Salon" open for the Annual Exposition — At the Exposition — Numerous pictures — "Theodora," Sara Bemhardt's great character — Two French ladies — The musical entertainment given me — Paris in the month of May. Paris I/:^tti;r — May 29, 1887, . . . .185 The letter and the book — Figures and a woman's age — Pictures — Millet's " L'Angelus " — Subjects and charac- ter of paintings — "The little book" — The drive — Champs Elysees as a fashionable resort — The enchant- ment of the scenes — "The little book" again, and again. CONTENTS. xiii Vknice Letter — June 8, 1883, . . .192 The letter in fancy from Florence — No rules from the flight of imagination — Longfellow says it for me — Venice in June — Drifting about in a gondola— The Grand Canal — ^The dazzling glory of the scene — A trance; a dream; perfect, perfect Venice! — Allusion to a story of life — A book to come forth — If I am to die to-morrow . . . — The ideal woman and friend — Kentucky gossip — Oh! oh! oh! perfect, perfect Venice! I^ucERNE Letter — ^June 26, 1883, . . . 201 The wooden horse of Donatello — Goethe's palm tree — From Padua to Verona — Juliet's tomb — The house of Capulets — Milan — The cathedral — Grand Victor Eman- uel Gallery — Pictures in galleries — Visit to libraries — View of levees — Italian lakes and scenes — The tropical bloom — Nightingale songs — The grand climb up the Alps — The glaciers — Snow flower, edelweiss— The ruins of castles — The moonlight scene — The descent from the Alps — The aching heart, like the d)dng gladiator. Vienna Letter — October 17, 1883, . . . 214 No end to the beginning — The opera — Letters — The sur- face of things — Below the surface — Knowledge of more breadth — My hostess — Wagner's operas — The object of my pilgrimage to Vienna — The aurist of Burope — The specialist's quarters — ^The Imperial Library. Siena Letter — March 4, 1883, . . . 224 Things we saw on the way — Shrine of Petrarch's Laura — The Papal palaces — The frescoes — Musee Calvet — Ver- net Gallery and pictures — ^The moonlight drive to Mar- seilles — At Cannes — An English lady — Hotel on the sea-front — ^The moonrise out of the sea — Bishop Little- john, of Rhode Island — ^A tram-drive — Excursion to Monaco and Monte Carlo — Pisa — Geneva — Mt. Blanc. xiv CONTENTS. RoMK Letter — March 19, 1883, . . . 231 An Ohioan from Granville — Naples and views — Museums and the palace of Capodimonte — Picture of Michael Angelo and Vittoria Colonna — Pompeian frescoes — Vittoria Colonna's husband — Vesuvius at night — Long- fellow's poem, "Amalfi" — Paestum — Ideal drive — Mu- seimi — Narcissus listening to Echo — Palm Sunday at St. Peter's — The Sistine Chapel — Goethe's words — Hawthorne's Rome — The Marble Faun — Springtime — Christmas flowers — Christmas souvenirs. Rome Letter — April 4, 1883, .... 238 Scenes along the coast of Italy — I/ittle villages — ^The mountains — Monastery of the Capuchins — The maca- roni factory — The monastery and monks — Our Paestum day — Vesuvius before the charmed gaze — Birthplace of Tasso — Celebrated places — Second trial of Naples — Trip from Naples to Rome — Ancient Capua — Monte Casino, its associations — Rome — Palm Sunday — Various services — English lady — Holy Week — Drive on the Via Appia — The Catacombs and tombs — The grotto — The tree of Numa's wisdom. Rome Letter — April 24, 1883, . . . 251 Importance of address in a foreign land — Guercino's fresco of Aurora — Scene in Imperial Rome — ' ' Rome mistress of the world ' ' — Story of Eve — ^Tasso memorial room — Swarm of lizards — A view of St. Peter's — Pom- pey's statue — The Plaza — ^The Jews' quarters, called Ghetto — The house of Rienzi — Protestant cemetery — Burial place of Keats and the heart of Shelley. Rome Letter — May 2, 1883, . . . .261 ' ' While Rome stands, the world stands ' ' — The rounds of churches — ^The galleries and museums — Palaces and shops — ' ' Being in Rome, do as Romans do ' ' — Piazzi di CONTENTS. XV San Giovanni, the largest in existence — One of the eleven obelisks — Mosaic frescoes — ^The queen in her carriage — Church of St. Onafrio, on the Janiculus — ^The three frescoes by Domenichino and I^eonardo da Vinci — ^Tasso buried here — ^Three churches of the Aventine — Galleries — ^Artists' quarters — Our Rodgers and Ives — Their art — Italian artist — Dwight Benton, formerly of Cincinnati, Ohio — Italian scenes. Maiori Letter — April 5, 1886, . . . 274 Apology for delinquent letter — "What a butterfly she is ! " — One of the party sick — On the Mediterranean — Longfellow's poem — ^The steep climb — The poor little donkey — Features of the scene — "The death in life " — The region abounds in drives — Talk of Sicily and Africa — A letter — ^The sacred few . . . — The little book — Blessed be the potato, henceforth and forever ! INaples Letter — May i, 1886, . . . 281 A drive to Salerno — From there to Paesttmi — The temple of Neptune — ^An incident of missing glasses — Return to Salerno — Then to Pompeii — Naples — Friends from Tunis — A steamer for Sicily — Storm at sea — Palermo, its environs — The palaces — The drives and places we visited — The museum, Metopes, and splendid art — Beauty of the country — The fountain of Arethusa — Roman amphitheater — The quarries — Mt. Btna — ^The seven rocks of Cyclops — Messina — That coat of arms of Sicily — The heart-ache of good-byes. Lattterbrunnen Letter — ^July 29, 1886, . 291 Wrought up over letters — " Poaching on your preserves " — The cause of wit — Friends, their character estimated — Of writing — Sojoiurn in the beautiful valley — The Staubach — The Jungfrau. xvi CONTENTS. Egypt Estter — December 30, 1886, . . 295 Aboard steamer Prince Abbas— On the Nile — "In the teeth of a storm " — Sunrise and sunset on the Mediter- ranean — Acquaintances, a citizen from the "hub" — At Alexandria — The seven wonders — ^To Cairo — English officers — The Pyramids — Pillars at Heliopolis — "The Virgin's tree" — The island of Rhodda — Mosques and tombs — The site of Memphis — ' ' Twelve miles of won- derland—The air — The flowers — The guests on steamer — One can live too much in books. Egypt Lktter from Paris — February 10, 1887, 302- Agreeable surprises — Down the Nile — The atmosphere and mysterious influence of scene — lyanding of steamer — Our donkey ride — The tombs — The imposing magnifi- cence of the monuments — Rain in Egypt — Reflections — Pictures to help tell the story — The coming book. Cuba E^tter — April 7, 1885, . . . . 307 The magical isle of Cuba — Tropical vegetation — Sunrise in the harbor of Havana — The trip on the steamer— Moro Castle — Strange scene on landing — The buildings — The drive, atmosphere and scenery — The watch inci- dent — Shopping expedition — People we met — To Cerro — Sugar plantations and process of sugar-making — The caves — The beautiful island, Cuba — The freedom of slaves — Spanish government. A Vision of Fatigue, ..... 32a U.ST OF IIvI^USTRATIONS. PAGE Shakespeare's Birthplace, from below, Stratford, ii Room in Shakespeare's Home, Stratford, . . 12 Mary, Queen of Scots, Edinburgh, 32 Pension and Garden to which Goethe wrote a Poem, Heidelberg, 38 The Old Kaiser at Historical Window, ... 71 lyouis II, the Mad King of Bavaria, .... 90 Queen I^ouise, 126 The Historic Windmill, 131 The Old lyion, lyUcerne, 147 The Old lyion at the Arsenal, Venice, . . . . 192 I^ord Byron's Palace, Venice, 196 Pantheon, Rome, 242 Strada dei Sepolcri (Street of Tombs), Pompeii), 248 Quirinal, Rome, 259 Naples, General View, 281 Peasant Cart, Palermo, 283 Interior of Museum, Palermo, 285 Archimedes, 288 Head of Medusa, Palermo, 290 LETTER FROM ENGLAND. (HERE to begin ? That is the question. The ideas, thoughts, feelings, come, not in battalions, but like the hosts of Alexander, or our own, in *^ the late unpleasantness,** or like the bubbles in the foam on the crests of the waves ** a moment here, then gone forever.** I am wishing for the arms of Briareus, with their hundred hands, to help catch and fix them on the page. Such a trip ! The Atlantic was never known to exhibit such a peculiar turbulence of waves and water generally. The steamer Adriatic (in which we sailed April 6th) kept up such a lurching and pitching as I never had an idea of before. One day it was impossible for me to keep my feet, and after trying in vain to dress in the morning, I retired to my berth. But it was as much as the sailors could do to keep their feet, and three were badly hurt. How my friends would have laughed, could they have seen my frantic struggles to accomplish a toilette. The two ** steamer trunks** and our hand satchels were chasing each other all around (0 2 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS* mc, and knocking wildly from one side to the other, and I in the midst, shooting and slipping, clutching and grabbing, wildly, frantically, at doors, berth and washstand* But I was so glad not to be seasick, I didn't mind anything else much. One spectacle of this turbulence in the '*r-r-r-rolling forties,** as the chambermaid called our bearing (I wish I could give that whirr of her r s), was of peculiar and extraordinary sub- limity and uniqueness* It kept me at my port- hole for I know not how long. The steamer was sweeping right along in an immense hollow, or crater as it were, in the ocean, and in which was comparative calm. Afar off the water rose in encircling ranges of vast mountains — ''^Alps upon Alps** — capped with white foam. From these snowy cones, like the eruptions of volcanoes, burst forth in swift succession great columns of the seething mass that shot upward apparently to the very heavens and exploded. I did not know at the time that this was unusual, but in speaking of it afterwards found it had not been observed by the other passengers — ^all or the most of whom were seasick — nor have I since met with any traveler who had ever seen it; nor read any description of it. LETTER FROM ENGLAND. 3 We had a lovely Easter Sunday on the broad Atlantic. The captain presented me with two Easter eggs prepared expressly for me as a testimonial of my good seamanship. I was never seasick. The device was a white star and the name of the steamer — Adriatic. I was the only lady thus honored. We had a pleasant company: R. H. Dana and his wife (a daughter of Longfellow), two charming ladies, relatives of Longfellow, a Unitarian minister and his young sister, all from Boston; and a Mrs. Blake, from Canada. These were the parties we saw the most of, except Mrs. Dana, who was not well. Mr. Dana was one of the most attractive and interesting persons I ever met, the kind that has the effect of a flash of sunlight coming into a room. One of the ladies was a Unitarian, and that brought us together. The minister was going to attend a Unitarian con- ference of the English Unitarian Church, which met at Liverpool, April J 8th. She and I consti- tuted ourselves delegates at large, and decided to attend. We landed Sunday, the J 6th, remained till afternoon, attending church at an old cathedral of some note; then lunching at the Northwestern Hotel, and away we came to Chester. How much do you know about Chester ? 4 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. PlI take for granted all its history. The '^old cathedral city'^ and the ^^old walled city^^ is the way the guide-books speak of it. I walked its two miles of wall^ well-preserved, picturesque, and commanding lovely views. I mounted one of the towers on it, called King Charles the First^s, because from it he watched the fatal progress of the battle of Rowton Moor. I looked out of the very queer little windows from which he watched. The old woman who shows it is as bright and keen of tongue, if not as incisive, as Mrs. Poyser. She said she liked Americans, and always enjoyed their visits, and that they paid her every year a most extraordinary honor. ** Just think of a whole country celebrating your birthday 1 Would n*t you feel honored ? That *s what you Americans do.^* She said it with mischievous, snapping eyes. Of course I took in in a moment that the Fourth of July was her birthday. '*Ah,'' I replied, ** and to think of fifty millions of people doing all that honor, and not knowing what they are doing.** ** Fifty millions of people ! ** She came right up to me, and her look changed to amazement — **what a grand country it must be I ** I told her it was too bad her name was unknown, and she must give it to me. ''Mary Huxley.*' I said. LETTER FROM ENGLAND, 5 ** Why, Mary Huxley, you Ve a very good name, And I 'm sure I think it a crying shame That it is not better kncwn to fame." You ought to have seen her delight* She talked to me down to the very last step, after giving me **a, hearty grip** by way of good-bye. Then I saw Chester Cathedral, where Hugh Lupus, nephew of William the Conqueror, is buried. On Sunday night, some of us at- tended service there, after which there was an organ recital, a very fine performance* Next morning, all five of us went down into the dark, damp, crypts. The amount of exquisite carving in it is something wonderful. I am not going into the age and size of it and all that. Go to the library and get a book on English Cathedrals and Cathedral Towns and read, and think that that is what your correspondent is seeing. Another one is St. John's Church, still more ancient, with its abbey, a lovely ivy- covered ruin. I could not bear to leave it. Another feature is the old castle now used as an armory and barracks. The hands of the Romans have left many evidences of their work here in the wall, the columns still standing in place of some kinds of fortifications. The old town is full of queer things, and has a wierd 6 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. sort of fascination; among these **the Rows/' a succession of arcades built on the roofs of ancient triangular-shaped houses. The hand- somest shops are in them. The neighborhood has the honor of containing Eaton Hall; the seat of the Duke of Westminster. We visited it, driving and walking all over its splendid walks, and gardens, and lawns, and parks, and getting a first-rate look Into the palace. We could not go inside, because it was full of workmen finish- ing the inside ornamentation. The grounds are ten square miles in extent. There were immense conservatories, full of the rarest flowers and plants. In one I saw the Egyptian lotus floating in full bloom in an immense tank. The head gardener was our guide. He was a very intel- ligent person, well-mannered and pleasant and clever, because he gave me a handful of flowers and broke off a nice little branch from a cedar of Lebanon, brought from the Holy Land expressly for the place. He gave us a great deal of infor- mation about the family; among other things he told me the Duke was not handsome, but a good man. He spoke with emphasis. The Dee winds through those miles of acres and is spanned by a number of bridges. The villages of the tenantry are pretty and looked LETTER FROM ENGLAND. 7 comfortable. I saw deer by hundreds in the park. We returned to Liverpool, and remained two days in attendance on the conference. A num- ber of the leading men were there, and we heard them speak and preach. There were Armstrong, Carpenter, Sir Thomas Hayward and others. They were fine-looking men, and extremely in- teresting. The audience was as enthusiastic and demonstrative as that of our Methodist Conferences. From Liverpool we whisked away to Rows- ley Station, Derbyshire, to the Peacock Inn, the quaintest manor-house, now doing duty accord- ing to its name. The object of this was to visit Chatsworth, the seat of the Duke of Devonshire, and Haddon Hall, a lovely unused ruin, belong- ing to the Duke of Rutland. The country in every direction was a vision of beauty — a sea of living green — ^bespangled with flowers as thickly as the floor of heaven is inlaid with stars ; or in Derbyshire, breaking up into great cliffs, show- ing the beautiful stone which is so generally used in building. The grounds of the inn were washed by the Derwent, a winding stream of exceeding beauty. We made an early start in a wagonette for Chatsworth. It was an ideal day — the Spring 8 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS, in full burst, with that delicate film of blue mist that always makes me think of a veil, to enhance its charms — the whole way a succession of pic- tures — vales, swelling uplands, far hills, the Der- went in its curious curves* We were speechless and exclamatory by turns. Chatsworth is a palace, in the midst of its thousands of acres cultivated and adorned in every possible way; its exquisite lawn laid out in innumerable gardens in Italian, Alpine, Ger- man, French, and ever so many other styles; its wonderful conservatory designed by Sir Joshua Paxton, who modeled the Crystal Palace on the same plan, as you no doubt know; and the gorgeousness of the long suite of show rooms. The rooms of course are filled with all that the money and taste of its long genera- tions have accumulated — the rooms in them- selves, for their noble dimensions, rich, tasteful and expensive finish; and their lovely views of stream, lakes, meadows, forests, and lovely distances. I saw the hangings of a state bed- stead worked by Mary Queen of Scots, and the Countess of Shrewsbury; the rosary of Henry the Eighth; and some portraits of the beautiful duchesses that have distinguished the house (though not Georgiana); and some splendid LETTER FROM ENGLAND. ^ pieces of statuary. I shall never forget Canova's Endymion, and Thorwalsden's Venus. The guide went round the grounds by my side and proved himself a most agreeable fellow — telling me all the family gossip I cared to know. I dare not attempt to get it all in here, though Fve a misgiving you^d rather hear it than all the rest. I may as well tell you that I always keep close to the guide and — it pays. They are always the head, or one of the gardeners, and are a constant astonishment to me for their good manners, choice language, as well as their intelligence. I asked if the heir, the Marquis of Hart- ington (leader in the House of Commons), was handsome; he laughed merrily, shaking his head, '*No indeed, he is very plain, and you just ought to see him slouch around here. This is the way he walks " — and he gave an illus- tration to my infinite amusement. Only he and I were together, the rest were lagging a wide interval behind. The deer park has two thousand acres and eight hundred head of deer. We saw several different herds of one hundred each, perhaps two hundred. Next by a short drive, to Haddon Hall on 10 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. a hill overlooking as fair a scene as eye would care to dwell on. A soft drab stone, time- stained and worn, moss and ivy covered, it is an immense pile built around a quadrangular court, with its ancient rooms sufficiently well- preserved to show in what state it was kept away back in that romantic age. The grand ban- queting hall, with antlers for ornaments, its old table in the upper end, with the same old benches, both worm-eaten; besides this the dining hall for daily use, wainscoted to the ceiling in heavy, dark oak panels, and a great round table; the drawing-room with its arras, hangings said to be of the fourteenth century, the bed-rooms hung in the same way ; the dancing saloon one hun- dred and ten by seventeen feet wide, with its grand stained windows, and a bust of one of the countesses taken after her death. I went up Percival tower and stood on it looking down into the ** inner court '^ (the quadrangle) and off over the landscape, and trying to imagine **the olden time.*^ There is a door opening on to an avenue of yews with alterrace and steps into a walled flower garden with a postern gate in the wall, outside which are steps leading to a bridge across the moat beyond which lies an expanse of open meadow, and a pretty story PQ LETTER FROM ENGLAND. U says the loveliest daughter of the house stole out this way to ** off and away/' with her ** young Lochinvar/' he and his steed awaiting her at the hither side of the bridge* The little boy who opened the postern for us, said in answer to us : ** This is the gate, and them's the steps, and that are the bridge she crossed to the 'oss/' From the Peacock next a.* m, to Stratford- on-Avon! Next day was Sunday, and the birthday of Shakespeare. Think of my spend- ing it at his birthplace ! It is almost too much to rea]ize. The first afternoon we walked to see his birthhouse (just the outside), the hall where Garrick's present stands, and the bridge over the Avon from which is a pretty view of the church where he lies. The morning found us all fresh and ready for church. There was fine music and a full congregation. You know the whole service is intoned in the English Church. When the vicar went to his desk for that I dreaded to hear a word, fearing it would not be in harmony with the day. It proved to be the best sermon I ever heard from the Epis- copal pulpit, indeed an inspiration. After the congregation was dismissed we asked permission to enter the chancel to see the grave, and I had a collection of the flowers he knew so well to J2 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. lay upon it. It was '* against rule^* to let any- one in at that hour, but the vicar instantly and courteously accorded us this as soon as he knew we were Americans. I knelt and laid the flowers by the inscription. The ** painted bust ** is just above the grave. I did not like it. It looked both beefy and beery. Too much so for my ideal of him who the vicar had just said *^was the greatest poet and perhaps the greatest being that ever lived.*^ It was the 3 1 8th anni- versary. No wonder he chose ** Trinity ^^ for his last resting-place. It is a beautiful situation on the Avon, and from the street you walk up a long avenue of lime trees, on either side of which are the graves of centuries. We stayed three days at Stratford, and to-morrow we go, as the great Cardinal went, ** by easy roads to Leicester;** we are going to London. May 1st. We came here Saturday, after such a two days in that ** ancient university city,** Oxford, as I hope most fervently I shall repeat in extenso. It was from one extreme en- joyment to something beyond! I stepped into the university founded by Alfred the Great, a huge mass of time-stained and somewhat crumb- ling marble. I went through ChHst College, first into the kitchen. '* The very best time you could ?d LETTER FROM ENGLAND. 13 have come/* said the usher. Dinner was in full progress! The room is a cube of forty feet. Such a baronial banquet preparation I never saw. The oldest relic is the door leading into the court, where the fuel is kept, heavy, black, battered, iron-bound oak. From the kitchen to the refec- tory, with its splendid array of pictures. Going out under the tower, we heard '^old Tom*' ring out the hour in his sonorous tones. To Mag- dalen College to see the chapel with its wonderful immense window in brown sepia, three hundred years old, representing the day of judgment, and its reredos extending from the floor to the ceiling and from side wall to side wall. Then to ** Ad- dison's Walk,'* the loveliest, most sequestered, serpentine, and then long great vista of greenery, bound on either side by lovely streams and wide meadows edged with pollard willows. To New College, with its rival chapel and great window, designed by Sir Joshua Reynolds, representing Faith, Hope, and all the virtues mentionable. Anything more exquisite than Hope was never fashioned by man. The window is made, it is said, of the finest stained glass in the world. We passed by the church where Amy Robsart lies. At Warwick we saw the magnificent tomb of her cruel earl, and the effigy of himself and third H BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS, wife, carved and colored, reposing thereupon^ On to the Bodleian Library, with its treasures of books, rare old manuscripts, ancient illumin- ated works; I can^t enumerate its treasures, but one of the most curious and interesting was some papyrus rolls from Herculaneum, showing the scorch. Its picture gallery was a perfect fascina- tion, with its portraits and busts of a long array of historical persons whom we have admired, reverenced, loved, and hated, all our lives* It was all an aggravating rush from one thing to another, that one wanted to hang over and study and steep the whole being in. I would go to the Ashmolean Museum to see a few things — Al- fred's jewel, a priceless treasure, the chatelaine watch of Queen Elizabeth, in turquoise and gold, with the chain formed of charms in different de- vices — two of hair. I wondered if either was her own. Cromwell's watch right beside hers, heavy, thick, not very large, but looking as if it was meant to stand all the battering of the man's career. One of the most interesting of all the personal trifles — shall I call them ? — ^was a kind of charm worn by John Hampden in the civil war. This was the motto : ** Against my king I do not fight, But fof my king and kingdom's right.* LETTER FROM ENGLAND. \5 There is not a spot in Oxford that is not enchanting. We staid at the "Mitre Hotel/' the oldest house in the city. Our room was wainscoted to the ceiling, which was divided into three compartments by rich and pretty pan- els in rich flowers. I did not like to leave it, though walking its floors was a feat of dexterity worthy of being chronicled, they were so sunken and irregular. We came whizzing through the loveliest lowland country, saw Windsor in a misty veil of light rain, and all at once we were in Paddington Station, in the cab, rolling through London streets and directly at our ooarding house. We are delightfully situated. Sunday morning we heard Spofford Brooks. He is just across the street. In the afternoon I went to St. PauFs to hear Canon Liddon. I was all eyes, if not ears. That splendid pile swallowed me up, mind, body and soul. And now with the din and clatter of four female tongues sounding in my ears, I will close this rambling epistle. L. G. C. Gfosvcnof Hotel, Chester, April J 7, J 882. LETTER FROM LONDOR EAM still in this grandest city of the globe* Every day seems a fresh era in life, each hour ushers in new and more delightful experi- ences. I am confirmed in my opinion that this ^* little island/' but mighty kingdom of the earth, is to be more to me than all the rest, and that my plan to spend *'the season** in London was the very best I could have had* Indeed that was the one feature of this trip entirely clear to me. For the rest, I had a general outline to make headquarters of each of the great art centers, and let the gods provide the goods. No doubt I shall adhere to this in a way. Governor Chamberlain, who was here last year in August, said he could not have believed it would make such a difference to be here ** in the season.** I think you know the months of May, June and July constitute that elect time. Well, I have had as perfect a time as one could have in my way. Of course, there is that other — that means being presented at court, and getting into society, the (16) LETTER FROM ENGLAND. \7 first being the easier of the two! I have not hankered after either* There are some whom I have long admired, it would be a beatitude to know, such as the Earl of Shaftsbury, now eighty-one, whose whole life has been devoted to good and noble works (just last Tuesday he presided at the opening of a bazaar in behalf of a benevolent project), and the Duke of Devon- shire and his family, Gladstone, John Bright and such* Alas! ^^they are a pitch beyond my flight,*^ and so I am content to let all go* What I have drunk deep of is the great institutions — churches, galleries, the Tower, Parliament houses, hospitals, etc* The boarding house in which we are is kept by English people, just for Americans, and foreigners. English people do not board; it is not ** good form'* with them. The host, a very intelligent, affable gentleman, and his wife, a bright, kind, out-spoken lady, say *'they have known no Americans that have seen London to such advantage.^* They evidently regard us with great respect. Tuesday was a glorious day. We spent it at Windsor, were all over the palace shown to the public, on the terrace, saw the gorgeous Albert Mausoleum, and St. George^s Chapel 18 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. with its exquisite monument to Princess Char- lotte, the most perfect piece of sculpture I ever saw, and also the touching monument to the Prince Imperial, with his recumbent statue on it, a good likeness in pure white marble. It seems to me quite probable, since seeing it, that Princess Beatrice may have been in love with him. From Windsor we drove through Eaton, and a beautiful English lane to Stoke Pogis to see Gray^s grave and the church and graveyard of the ** Elegy .*^ The little church is the most exquisite little gem I ever saw. I wish I dared give you a full description of that day, but it would take a ream of paper. Well, this is Sunday evening. I went to hear Moncure Conway this forenoon at his own chapel. I was so much interested, more than I have been by any one I have heard but Canon Farrar. You may have heard him when he preached in Cincinnati. You may not agree with or approve of his views, but one cannot help being greatly interested and instructed. He has a scholarly look — the bowed head, that trick caught by bending constantly over books and writing, and a lively, expressive countenance, the kind that shows the effect of constant asso- ciation with high thoughts and noble sentiments LETTER FROM ENGLAND. J? and lofty aspirations. He is in the best sense a teacher. I saw Mr. and Mrs. Taft there, and my friend Miss cried out, ** Don^t you want to go back and speak to them ? *^ As we were in our carriage, and it was raining, I concluded to forego the pleasure. They are on their way to Vienna. It is rather pleasant to know so many Americans are around, even if you don't get to speak to them. We have a fresh supply of Bostonians. They are all chattering round the fire like so many daws — my companions du voyage helping their level best. They come and go, come and go, all the time. We often find ourselves laughing at large parties — ^'^Oh! look quick; there they are, another lot of our country- fellows.** They go about in gangs and every- body seems to recognize them at once as '* Americans.** I can*t tell how they, the English, know us ; but it is very easy for us to distinguish them. Their voices and pronunciation are very markedly different. All have a kind of abdom- inal pitch and intoning that are very pronounced. I have found some relatives here, people who settled in England two hundred years ago, when my branch of the family emigrated from Holland to America. They are as purely En- glish as I am American, and this is the first 20 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. meeting since the original separation. One of my newly-found cousins is in the Somerset House, where he has a government office, and he 'would show us *^what it contained of inter- est.'* It is a government building, registering marriages, births, deaths, keeping records, etc. The way he made us skip round and up and down and through long corridors in upper stories, and deep down in almost the bowels of the earth, was good for our circulation if not for our feet. It was just going through a vast library, for all these things are kept in volumes bound in Russia leather and shelved and catalogued. He invited us for Tuesday evening to meet a party of rela- tives and special friends he wished me to know; so I am counting on something of an introduction to English life. Thereby is a romance, our meet- ing, etc. ; but of this another time. Well, our time is up, and on Wednesday I have arranged to leave for our Scottish tour. This takes up the eastern side of England, through York and Durham to Edinburgh, where we shall spend a week. Thence through the Tromcho* and lakes, Caledonia canal, Inver- ness and back to ^*Auld Reekie/* where we shall excursion to Abbotsford, Jedburg, and next * Trossachs. LETTER FROM ENGLAND. 21 Glasgow and Ayr, and down through western England by the English lakes — ^Windermere, Coniston, etc., back to London. We may go to Wales, or leave that out for the present and go to the Isle of Wight, and so across the Chan- nel to some place in Brittany or Normandy, where we have ** booked '* ourselves for a month. J^. Vj. v^. Loadon, June H, }882. FROM LONDON TO EDINBURGH. (E LEFT London on the momingf of the i4th, after a seven weeks' sojourn^ and, I must say it, one of perfect delight and satisfaction. Old Londoners could not remem- ber a more charming ** season;'* the weather called forth rapturous comments, the city was full of attractions, the best and at their best, a most fortunate conjunction; and ^*all the world'' seemed peopling its palaces, crowding its hotels, thronging its temples of art and pleasure, and pushing its way through the packed streets, to enjoy them. Believe me, it took a stout wrench to break away from all that. But as we said to our hostess in response to her amiable urgency to detain us yet longer, **Dear Madam, how shall we 'see the world,' unless we 'move on f A four hours' railway ride brought us to York, where we "stopped over" till next after- noon to see the Minster, the walls and the ruins of St. Leonard's Hospital and St. Mary's Abbey, (22) LONDON TO EDINBURGH, 23 and the ancient city ** in toto/* The sun shone for us in most lavish brilliancy, and we went after lunch to the Cathedral, spending an hour or more wandering ** through it with the verger all to ourselves** (which we always account a peculiarly good piece of luck, as much inter- esting information is to be gained, when he can give you undivided attention). We stood long before each of the great windows, too rapt in admiration, it must be confessed, to give due heed to the great budget of details our guide was so kindly pouring out for our benefit. The ** Five Sisters " was the first that arrested us, consisting of five lancet- shaped lights, fifty-four feet high by thirty wide. It was presented by five maiden sisters, who worked the patterns first. They must have had a busy time of it, and I am glad I was not one of them, but am one who has had the privilege of enjoying their pious handiwork. Next the west and east windows, the first about the size of the ^* Five Sisters,** the latter said to be the largest in the world. As to the exquisite beauty of each, that is unutterable. We lingered and loitered in nave and choir and transept, till long after the sun had set, and then walked back to our hotel, a palace fit for any queen this world 24 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. has ever throned ; the views from its great French plate glass windows Victoria might be glad to claim. The next morning we attended choral service, and gave the entire forenoon to that splendid seat of Episcopal magnificence. From there we went to the ruins, both being in the same inclosure, a large tract laid out in beautiful walks and far-stretching expanses of lawn, with clumps of trees here and there, and beds and borders of flowers. I wish I had time to tell you how old these crumbling structures are, and the various fortunes to which they have been subjected. Suffice it that both are older than the time of the Conqueror, which surely would seem ancient enough. In the afternoon ^we were most reluctant to ** stick to our program,** and go on to Durham, but we did. We had a reminder of home on the way in an hour*s stop at Newcastle-on-Tyne — as coal begrimed as Pittsburgh. I was glad to leave it behind, and find fresh, clean air coming into my lungs as it vanished from my sight. We ran into Durham in good time for a climb to its Cathedral, ^* unequaled in situation on a high hill/* Again we had a verger all to our- selves, and he proved a fellow with some wit. LONDON TO EDINBURGH, IS with all his overwhelming '' stock in trade '* of cathedral knowledge in architecture, I was so hoarse I could only croak^ but too athirst for knowledge to let that hinder. So, as I said something to this effect, ** Tell me about that — ^the book I have does not tell anything, though I got the best I could find '^ — ^with the most mischievous smile he burst out, *^ I think you got something worse, have n^t you ? ^* We were fast friends from that moment till I bowed *^ good-bye ^^ next day — crossing his willing hand with the inevitable silver shilling. You have read all about this cathedral; that it is a splendid example of Norman, early English, transitional, and perpendicular styles in its different parts; that St, Cuthbert is its patron saint, and his bones rest here; maybe, remember how his monks **Froni sea to sea, from shore to shore. Seven years Saint Cuthbert bore. And after many -wanderings past. He chose his lordly seat at last, "Where his cathedral htsge and vast Looks down upon the weir; There deep in Durham's gothic shade His reliques are in secret laid. But none may know the place," That was long ago, and now even I ** know the place,** I stood upon the flagstones that cov- ered it ! Bede is buried there, so I have to tell 26 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. you that I leaned upon his tombstone and read the inscription: **Hac sant in fossa Bedae venerabilis ossa,** and recalled the story of the monk^s worry over his hexameter, his lucky nap, and the opportune help of that convenient angel, who fixed it up ** all right ** while he slept the sleep of the right- eous* I saw the carved image of the Dun Cow, from which it got its name. I am not so sure that legend is so familiar to you. It took hard work, innumerable questions, search and research, for me to get hold of it, quaint and simple as it is. In that seven years* quest for a resting-place for the corpse, the monks had stopped with it at a place called Ward Law, from which they could not move it, it seeming fastened to the ground. This set them all praying to know where they should take it. The answer to their prayer was, ** Dun- holme*' (Durham). As they were searching about in great perplexity, they heard a woman, who was looking for her stray cow, call to her neighbor, asking if she had seen it. The cry back was: ^*She is at Dunholme.** Behold I this quest was ended. And the cow is a beauty of the kind that makes one wish she could be driven home into his own pasture, to be ** a pos- session forever.** She stands sleek and serene LONDON TO EDINBURGH. 27 in her niche in the outer wall, and seems to fol- low you with a watchful gaze as you pluck buttercups and clover-blooms, lineal descendants, beyond a doubt, of those on which her prototype fed in the spacious close beneath hen We tarried atop that green hill and in those sacred precincts, till the fainter day that is far from twilight, though the sun is long gone, warned us of the late hour. Such an evening as we had in ancient Durham — ** a dirty hole in general," as a little Scotch boy wrote of it in J 820. And a little American woman verifies it to-day. First, a street concert by Highlanders in full national costume, with their screeching bagpipes. They ended and vanished. Then came trooping by a large body of the Salvation Army, with their leader, a woman, facing her forces and keeping time with a stick to their singing. She looked like a wild creature, and the spectacle was one more conducive to specu- lation than to admiration. As their frantic strains died away in the distance, a sweet, clear- ringing child voice burst forth. It soared up to us like a lark, ** Singing as it soars and soaring as it sings." We opened our windows and saw a young boy standing in the street alone and without any 2S BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. instrument, singing with an absorption that made him oblivious to his surroundings. He did not even notice the fall of the pennies for which he was singing, till a woman, who had stopped to hear him, gathered them up and put them into his hands. We felt as if we were listening to an incip- ient Brignoli. He went too. At eleven o^clock, the daylight not yet merged in night, we fell asleep to harp music, played by a band of Gypsies in most picturesque garb. We hurried to the cathedral next morning for ** choral service,** and heard some fine music, which attuned us to our loitering among its ancient memorials. After some hours inside we came out] into the lovely day, and strolled off for a walk. From the crest of the hill on which the cathedral is built to the water*s edge its wooded sides are laid out in beautiful shady walks. There we wandered, keeping up a running fire of exclamations at the beautiful broken views, gathering now a wild flower, now a fern, or stretching up for a leaf from the masses of thick foliage on the trees overhead. How the hours shot by ! Atop of the hill again, we found our way into a castle, in close neighborhood to the cathedral, a charm- ing old piece of antiquity, with its stores of rare, LONDON TO EDINBURGH. 29 old curious things. I could fill a quire of old- fashioned letter paper and not do half justice to it. So I shan^t say anything more about it, but shut both eyes and mouth and get away from Durham, already grown fascinating enough to make me wish I could live in the shadow of that ancient pile with its **gothic shade.*^ Our route hither lay for the most part of the way along the coast of the German ocean. The white breakers burst right beneath us some- times, sending their roar to our ears. Away off occasionally glimmered a dream-like sail, or a phantom stretch of smoke from some passing- out-of-our-world vessel. Near enough for a good view we saw, "Markworth, proud of Percy's name,** very literally a ** castle by the sea,*^ as it seemed as if washed by its waves. The country land- ward was prettily rolling and laid off in fields of grain and pasture. Great flocks of sheep speckled the latter. A Scotch lady got into our ** compartment'^ when we were still some miles from ** Dun Edin.^' She was very companion- able and pointed out all the features of note as they came in sight. The sun as it went down was a great puzzle to us ; it seemed to be setting in the east. 30 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. and we could not get it to fit the points of the compass stowed away in our craniums. You see it did not set till nearer nine than eight o^cIock, and that gave it time to get almost round to where it had started from! The Scotch welcome quite won our hearts. We had written and engaged rooms a week before, so knew we would be expected. The landlady and three daintily-arrayed maids were in the hall, and the former, Mrs. Campbell, stepped forward and took our hands, with the sweetest-voiced wel- come! We felt at home at once. Just here I think I must give you a list of the people collected under her roof — ^tourists, here for a day or weeks, as may chance: an Episcopal High Church curate, from Wales; a Mrs. Smith and her daughter, from Australia; a Mr. Bruce, from the Cape of Good Hope (he was there when Stanley went there with the remnant of the host that made the trip with him ^* Across the Dark Continent ^0; a Mr. Masters and wife, from another part of South Africa, he an emigrant from Yorkshire and she a native born, but the daughter of an emigrant; a lady who resides in Oxford and is enthusiastic about it as a place of residence; two young ladies from the south of England; another two, sisters, from London; LONDON TO EDINBURGH. 31 a Miss Gurley, a Scotch maiden lady, a great traveler and linguist, and altogether charming. She had been to the United States and Canada, three times* While in the United States, she was the guest of Bishop Potter. She belongs to Edinburgh, is living across the Firth, among the hills of Fife, not far from royal Falkland. Add us three Americans, and I think it could be called a mixed household, indeed. L. G. G. Edinburgh, July 4, 1882, EDINBURGH. jE spend our days as usual, ** sightsee- The first place we sought was Holyrood Palace. It is not palatial compared to Windsor, Hampton Court, and the situation is not a cheerful one — low, in a kind of a hollow. I can imagine it oppressively gloomy to a young girl of nineteen, just from gay and sunny Paris, and one of the ornaments of its brilliant court. In the picture gallery there is a lovely, full-length portrait of Mary; but there is a still lovelier pic- ture of her at the castle. I saw her apartments, her hzd with its faded velvet hangings, that are slowly dropping to pieces too; one of her paintings on marble, much chipped and defaced, showing no little merit; a piece of her embroidery in a glass case; the little mirror hung on the wall she doubtless took much pleasure in seeing her fair face in; the small supper-room, with its closet, where the dreadful murder of Rizzio was begun, and the splotch of blood on the landing at the head of the stairs, where it was finished. How well we seem to know all about her — (32) Mary Queen of Scots, Edinburgh, EDINBURGH. 33 poor queen, unfortunate and to be pitied, even if as wicked as her worst enemies think. At the castle, on the hill that springs up in the very heart of the city, another suite of ** Queen Mary's apartments ^* is shown, in one of which her son was bom. The situation of the castle is incom- parably fine. It overlooks the entire city and a wide and varied range beyond. Ben Lomond and Ben Ledi show themselves to the north-west, and on a fair day the Pentland hills lie low and purple in another direction; the Firth carries the gaze with it to the sea in the east, and it is dotted with pretty islands, and its thither side is bounded by the misty shores of Fife. This same view is commanded by Arthur's Seat and Calton Hill. Arthur's Seat is the highest point — everybody and every guide-book says so, and I know it from experience f having climbed its 823 feet. We make all kinds of excursions in the environs, and find it the easiest thing in the world to keep up our ecstasies. Alexander Swift says, ** Every true Scots- man thinks Edinburgh the most picturesque city in the world.'' No wonder. It certainly possesses every feature requisite to constitute that preeminence — ** hill, crag, castle, rock, blue stretch of sea, the picturesque ridge of the old 34 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. town, the squares and terraces of the new*^ — the quaint streets with their ancient houses ** peaked and jagged by gable and roof, and windowed from basement to cope *^ with those small diamond-paned sashes that seem meant only **to make darkness visible/* and yet other streets of a later and more stately architecture ; the No/ Lock converted into a dreamland of park and gardens; the splendid monuments arresting the eye in every direction to recall the illustrious dead and give proof of the appreciation and taste of the living; the hills, crags and slopes that ** stand dressed in living green/* and the squares and terraces a mass of verdure and flowers — all these and more are the charms of this ^*Edina, Scotia^s darling/' Add to them the innumerable resorts, historic, beautiful, grand! — Oh I everything — all around in every direction, and one's sympathy leaps forth to meet that of ** every Scotsman/* Now, shall I tell you what a ** Bohemian ** I have grown to be? Perhaps you will be shocked, but really it is the most fascinating life conceivable, and not to be condemned untried. We go where, and when, and ho'w we please; en grandes dameSf in the conventional splendor of full dress and the swellest turnout of the EDINBURGH. 35 stand, this always ** under protest/* Oftener, we set our own *^ locomotives ** to the way and find unsuspected Edens. But oftenest and to my hearths delight, we mount to a super-royal perch atop of the **tram/* as the street car is called here, and **view the landscape o*er** at such advantage as no crown or throne can com- mand. And that*s the way we went to Morning Side, Edinburgh's Clifton, and to Portobello, its sea-bathing resort. Don't be alarmed though; we are not setting a fashion, only following one already established. If only this mode of travel- ing were practicable for everywhere. Alas! instead the railway comes in to sadly curtail the enchantment of ** views.'' We had to submit to it in order to see Roslyn Chapel, that ideal morceau of architecture, that exquisite efflores- cence of solid rock, that chapel of chapels, ** one among ten thousand and altogether lovely." First we struck through Hawthorden, a wall^ of three miles, beginning with an ordinary park that quickly led to an ivy-mantled ruin, hung on the very brink of a beetling crag, the rock- ribbed foundation of which dropped almost sheer to a swift and clamorous stream two or three hundred feet below. In this underlying base- ment of rock, queer caverns had been hewn, but 36 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS, farther back than dates reach. We explored them notwithstanding some hesitation, which, however, gave way to the liveliest enthusiasm. In one we came across a sword of Robert Bruce in an open wire case* The meshes were about an inch in length; by counting them I found the sword measured fifty-eight inches* I won- dered how much taller the warrior was than his weapon of warfare! Leaving these caverns we were soon descending a path that brought us to the edge of the stream and then ran along it the rest of the way. Anything wilder or more beautiful is rarely met, but I have seen Trenton Falls in my own native land, and it surpasses. Climbing the hill again at the end of the three miles we reached the chapel. An- other day we spent at Dunfermline. In the Abbey we stood on the grave of Robert Bruce; it is right under the pulpit. In the ancient and long-disused, but well-preserved, nave we saw that inexplicable caprice or trick of architecture, one of the great Norman columns that scanned from one place shows the upper half much smaller than the lower ; from another, the reverse effect, and from yet another, a pillar of perfect proportion. The ruins of the old palace and part of the abbey are very touching and beauti- EDINBURGH* 37 fuL It too has ** a den/* as every deep wooded and rocky glen with a stream running through its dark length is called* We sat on the rustic seat under a grand old tree and looked at the ruins and moralized, raved over the vistas, shadows, flashing sunlight and — munched our lunch. Saturday we skimmed away on the wings of the delicious morning as well as the wings of steam to Dalkeith and Newhattle Abbey to spend the day between the two* The former is the favorite seat of the Duke of Buccleugh, the latter that of his son-in-law, the Marquis of Lothian* The ducal palace is positively ugly; but it has its complement of grand state apart- ments filled with fine pictures and the usual quota of superb articles of vertu and bric-a-brac* Newbattle Abbey is a charming home* Its park boasts some rare old trees, among them a giant beech that is *^a monarch of the forest*' verily, measuring twenty-three feet in girth* Thursday we start on our excursion to the Highlands; it will take a week* We shall return here for a fresh departure. Then look out for another half quire of this moving matter* L* G. C* Edinburgh, July 21, J882. HEIDELBERG. ^N Heidelberg. Think of it! What an energetic idler I am grown I The Neckar lies a pistol-shot from my windows ; high hills rise on the thither side, looking so home-like — Maysville home, like Mr. W.*s, where you came once upon a time. When my glance darts out the windows and rests upon them, suddenly I catch my breath, and I am not sure whether it is pain or pleasure I feel. Half way up they are cultivated, but the tops are wooded. Just over my head the old castle looms up among the trees. *^The Gardens** of this pension where I am lead right up to it. I shall climb to it to-morrow for the first time. Reached here day before yes- terday, late; got settled yesterday for a good rest; shall stay here till the latest season for Switzerland; then it and on to Munich for another rest. Here's **a, mere mention** of where I have been since I wrote from '* Edina, Scotia*s dar- ling.*' From there to the English lakes we saw ten each lovelier than the last. I wish you (38) ^ o o 3 c EI ^^^^^^IH^I if ^'""' ''-^tIv •^^^^^I^H '■*?■■ "'^" "'"'■'''•■'■■''■'*'''-■'■■'■■ ■■■ 'i^iiiB HEIDELBERG. 39 were within sound; how I would rave to you! Then ruins. Fumess Abbey and Fountain's Abbey, both beyond Melrose, and Dryburg in some respects. London for a week (where we parted). Then to Rochester for its cathedral, castle (a ruin) and Gad*s Hill, Canterbury. Oh! Oh! Oh! Dover, Ostend, ^*The Belfry of Bruges,*' Ghent, Brussels, seeing the king and queen gratis, Antwerp, The Hague, Rotterdam (the loveliest and liveliest of them all), Amsterdam, Cologne, Bonn, and a pilgrimage to the graves of Niebuhr and Bunsen, Coblen^, Mayence — from Bonn to Mayence being the grand Rhine trip. *^ The castled crag of Drachenf els,*' and innumerable other castled crags, sometimes as m.any as three in sight; the Lurlieberg; the sweet, song-famous Bingen; the world-wide known wine district, Rheingau, whence come the costliest wines in the world — Johannisberger, Reiderheimer, Steinberger, etc. I saw the Schloss Johannisbergers crowning a lovely vine-clad knoll, the entire vineyard or vineyards com- prised in forty acres. The Schloss is a very extensive chateau, but ugly; belongs to Prince Richard Mettemich, and yields a neat little in- come of £8,000 ($40,000). Some of our tobacco 40 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. acres do almost as well ! We climbed the pre- cipitous rock on which ** the majestic fortress of Ehrenbrietstein ** is situated. It is opposite Co- hlcnZf and we crossed the Rhine to reach it on a bridge of boats* I saw three bridges of this kind* I guess they have been handed down since Caesar^s time. I could not find out their special merit. They are not particularly strik- ing — just a number of boats, sharp at both ends, side by side, with the solid flooring and railing of any bridge. The view from the fortress is one of the finest on this glorious stretch of seventy miles, and I was glad to see it. I wish I could lend you my eyes for a few minutes, so you could see what I saw. You *d come over and see it all, if it cost you that farm you spoke of in one of your letters, or another book! L, G. C. Heidelberg, August 15, 1882, HEIDELBERa AM just home, this is *^home^' for the present, from a week's delight at Nurem- berg. ** Delight/* how feeble that sounds. En- chantment, fascination, the absorption that makes one lovingly linger and loth to come away. It is the quaintest, most charming old city, I verily believe, that the sun shines on. From its streets, sometimes wider, sometimes narrower, but always crookeder, to its curious houses with their high-peaked gables and red-tiled roofs, with regular rows of such funny hooded windows let into them, and the upper stories all cut up into the most lavishly ornate towers, balconies, and sculptures; from its ramparts with towers of various forms at intervals, and its dry moat, thirty-five yards wide and thirty-five feet deep, to the river running through and dividing the town into nearly equal parts, spanned hy old and his- toric bridges ; from the churches, museums and galleries filled with the masterpieces of Durer, Kraft, Stoss and Vischer, to the shops with their bewildering medley of carvings in wood and (41) 42 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. ivory, and castings in terra-cotta, bronze and brass, by the thousand nameless artists of to-day ; from — oh ! everything to everything. Just leave all the rest of Europe out if you can't get it and Nuremberg in. Think how you*d feel to see a lime tree planted by Queen Kunigunde in the year 1002! or a lamp that has never been allowed to go out since it was first lighted in 1326 \ or a wedding in the Rathhaus! I saw them all. And saw besides, the Crown Princess and her daughter, and was not struck blind by the sight I And there was a great exposition in progress, and yesterday the anniversary celebra- tion of the victory at Sedan. The exposition was a grand and most artistic spectacle; and all ** United Germany*' a spectacular display of multitudinous flags, and processions enlivened with human huzzas and band music ! I wish I dare tell you the half I saw, or a tithe of the ravishment of mind and soul wrought by that picturesque, haunting, old ancestral city of mine. My great grandfather went to America from it. Did I ever tell you ? Do you wonder I could not bear to tear myself away ? I am going back some day if I have the ghost of a chance. To-day I have been resting; too tired for church, for anything but this careless scamper HEIDELBERG. 43 over a sheet of paper. Had an interruption in' a call from some Cape Colony English ladies, tourists as we are, whom we met at Inverness , and went with to the battle-field of CuIIoden; and again at Dunkeld. My traveling compan- ion, Miss S of Boston, struck them quite unexpectedly again yesterday on the **Old Bridge ** that crosses the Neckar, which I think I called Maine in my last to you. They are very agreeable, and their party consists of the mother and five daughters. Well, I do think the sheets of paper of the present day have the most lim- ited capacity. I am not half begun and this is used up ! Pshaw 1 L. G. G. Heidelberg, September 3, 1882. BADEN-BADER m Is a reward for your reformation I write ^^ _J to you on this precious sheet* You see I have come to be wonderfully attached to Heidelberg, the beautiful, the quaint, the his- torically poetic, learned and picturesque old town ontheNeckar* It seems like another home. So I could not show my appreciation of you in a more complimentary way than by sending this little series of pictures* Have you ever been here, I wonder ? You did not say, but you wrote as if you knew it by sight as well as by heart. As I cannot know, I will venture an explanation. The panorama speaks for itself. Put on your ** specs ** and look at the castle, half way up the Berg^ ** the Jettenhuhl, a wooded spur of the Ko- nigestuhl** Look at it from the **Terrasse." Thus you *I1 get something of an idea of it. The Gesprente Thurm is the one that was blown up by the French. The thickness of the walls, twenty-one feet, and the solid masonry, held it so well that only a fragment, as it were, gave way. It still hangs as if ready to be replaced. (44) BADEN-BADEN, 45 '^Das Grosse Pass Gebaude/* too, you will have no difficulty in making out. If you only had it with its 49,000 gallons of wine, but would n^t you divide with your neighbors I The columns in the portico that shows in the Schlosshof are the four brought from Charlemagne^s palace at In- gelheim by the Count Palatine Ludwig, some time between 1508-44, The Zum Ritter has nothing to do with the castle, but is an ancient structure (1592) in the Renaissance style, and one of the few that escaped destruction in 1693. It is a beautiful, highly ornamental building, and I wish you could see it, if you have not seen it. All the above information, I heg you to be- lieve, I do not intend you to think was evolved from my inner consciousness, but gathered from the — nearest guide-book I I am so much obliged to you for mapping out Switzerland to me. I have been trying my best to get all those *^ passes*' into my brain. Now, thanks to your letter, I have them all in the handiest kind of a bunch. Ariel like, **P1I do my bidding gently,*' and as surely, if I get there. But there are dreadful reports of floods and roads caved in and bridges swept away and snows and — enough of such exciting items as sets one thinking — **to go or not to go?** We 46 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS* are this far on the way. Reached here this aft- ernoon. Have spent the evening sauntering in the gardens, the Conversationhaus, the bazaar, mingling with the throng, listening to the band, and comparing what it is with what it was. It was a gay and curious spectacle, but on the whole had ^*the banquet-hall deserted ^^ look. The situation is most beautiful. It lies, you know, at the entrance of the Black Forest, among picturesque, thickly-wooded hills, in the valley of the Oos, and extends up the slope of some of the hills. The Oos is a most turbid, turbulent stream; dashes through part of the town with angry, headlong speed. There is an avenue along its bank of oaks, limes and maples, bordered with flower-beds and shrubberies, and adorned with fountains and handsome villas., We shall devote to-morrow to seeing all there is | to be seen, and go to Strassburg to-morrow eve- , ning for two or three days. From there to Con- stance, and then hold our ** Council ** as to further movements. L. G. C. Baden-Baden, September 19, J882. FROM HEIDELBERG TO NUREMBERG. a []UST after I last wrote I left my compan- ions to worry along over their ** German lessons/^ and ran away to Nuremberg. A very pleasant party was going there on the way to Vienna, and wished me to go along. Of all Germany, divided or united, Nuremberg was my objective point; for in addition to its special attraction as ^*the most perfect surviving speci- men of mediaeval architecture in Europe/' it has a nearer interest to me in that it was the home of my father's paternal ancestors, as far back as 1570. So I went with alacrity. We left Heidel- berg at the reasonable hour of 10:50 a. m. Thanks to the moderate form of tourist life I have adopted, neither the hours of my ** beauty sleep'' nor that last supreme ** forty winks" of the luxuriant morning sleeper, are ever interfered with. Our way lay up the Neckar, and as the train left the Carlsthor it glided — literally glided, the rate of speed not exceeding from twelve to fifteen miles an hour, and it **the fast train," too ! — along the bank of the river, under an avenue 48 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. of trees, giving ample time for one to take in views that one might delight to shut her eyes and recall in the dreamland hours of some future paradise* There were cone-shaped, beautiful, castle-capped mountains, the long winding valley with the river showing in many a lovely curve and shoot; village after village, in the mellowest tints of Indian red, brown, and drab, gathered around its church or chapel, almost every one with an amazing tall spire ; ranges of wooded hills that came together in one direction, or re- treated from each other in another, disclosing wonderful vistas; — and the weather! One moment a burst of sunlight; the next a veil of fleecy white clouds that changed into the mistiest blue; presently a dash of rain; then the brilliant clearing up again. Thus continued both views and weather to Heilbronn, forty-two miles. There are two historic points, Wimpf en am Berg, which occupies an old Roman station destroyed by the Huns under Attila; and Sinzheim, where Turenne gained a victory in 1674. I own their history was not half so interesting to me as their beauty. From Heilbronn to Nuremberg, over a hundred miles, the country was one great stretch of farming land, fine soil, and admirably cultivated. HEIDELBERG TO NUREMBERG. 49 We ran into Nuremberg in a pelting rain. All the hotels full After being turned away from five, with the most proper apologies be it said, we found lodging, but ** no rations *^ except breakfast, at a private house. This was duly- served : coffee, rolls, butter and eggs, the last raw/ Fancy our amusement. Having left our names at the various hotels for the first vacancy, next morning the Golden Eagle found a place for us beneath its sheltering wings. We were fortunate in the time of our visit^a grand exposition was in progress. Nearly all of ^'united Germany,** as well as ** little Bavaria,** seemed thronging the hotels and crowding the streets. The Crown Prince and his family occupied two hotels. The exposition continues, and is really a superb attraction. As for the quaint, picturesque old city itself, I cannot believe there is another so fascinating. From its streets, sometimes wide, oftener narrow, always crooked; its houses, eight and ten stories high, with their lofty-peaked gables and red-tiled roofs, with five or more tiers of the funniest little windows; its churches, monuments, and repositories of the best produc- tions of that brilliant constellation of workers — Durer, Kraft, Vischer, Stoss and Hirschvogel — who lived and flourished there together; its 50 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS* shops, tempting with pictures, carvings, castings, and — ^toys; its museums, that it would take days to tell you about; its curious old bridges spanning the river Pegnitz, that divides it into two parts ; the fortifications, consisting of a rampart running round the entire old city, with towers at intervals, and a dry moat, thirty-five feet deep and as many yards wide; its old berg, or castle, that rises on a lofty sandstone rock with ^Hhe wide extended prospect*^ from its walls and windows, and the old lime tree in the court, planted hy Queen Kunigunde somewhere from J 004 to 1024; to the cemetery where Durer is buned, with its singular, but the most impress- ive monuments, plain, massive, low monoliths, with large plates inserted in the tops bearing the inscriptions. From first to last, everywhere and everything, the old town, all alive with the quickest beating of the pulse of the nineteenth century, was a delight and wonder. Do not dream of a half description of any- thing; there was too much for one pen — too much for a thousand pens. But you never saw lions, life size, made out of soap, did you ? Or temples, pagodas, monuments of every design, made out of buttons, matches, tacks, not mere toys, but big enough for out doors ? HEIDELBERG TO NUREMBERG. 51 Among others of these artistic and archi- tectural structures, was a tall shaft monument of tobacco, fine-cut, twist, stem, and leaves, labeled — fancy my heart-throb on reading — '^ Maryland,** '^ Virginia,** ** Kentucky/* And these are some of the innumerable sights I saw at the exposition. What else did I see ? "Pussy-cat, Pussy-cat, -where have you been? I have been to London to see the Queen.'* I saw the crown princess and her daughter ! I looked at them and they looked at me — took me in as they did the shop-windows, trees, what- ever came within the sweep of their roving glance — just as I did them ! Such a plain, in- significant little party as they were ! The crown prince was not with them. Just two ordinary open carriages, the princess in the first, with her daughter by her side; in the other, a lady and gentleman in attendance. They came out from a shop of carvings fust as We were approaching it to enter. And I saw a wedding at the chapel of the Rathhaus (town hall) ! Neither the bride nor groom was on the sunny side of forty. She was dressed in a rich heavy black silk, with a white illusion head-dress, that was voluminous enough for a veil, though evidently not intended for one. The ceremony was apparently a simple civil 52 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. service, conducted by the magistrate, or what- ever he was, and an assistant* The bridal party was accompanied by one person only — a gray- haired old gentleman. How the days sped by I The first thing I knew, ere I was half ready to leave, my last day had come. I bought a package of Nuremberg's famous gingerbread, and bidding my pleasant party ** good-bye,** most reluctantly betook my- self to my home-bound train. Traveling, as I was, alone, I was put in the special '^ ladies* ** car, ** Fuer Damen,** as it is labeled. Presently, another ** lone female ** was put in, who proved to be a young German lady. I began to stumble in German to her. She smiled, and replied in tolerable English, it being one of the five lan- guages of which she was in a manner mistress ; and she was just beginning the sixth I ** I have so much time,** she said simply, in explanation of such learning. She was educated in Geneva. If she is an average example of its pupils, Ge- neva*s schools must be indeed desirable. And the next thing I knew, our five weeks at Heidel- berg were gone, and it was time to **move on** again. We started for Munich via Baden-Baden, Strassburg and Switzerland — an attractive pro- HEIDELBERG TO NUREMBERG, 53 gramme, but not less did it hurt to say another ** good-bye'* to the pleasant friends we had made — ^the beautiful Pension, which had come to have a real home feeling; the romantic ** an- cient university town/' and the grand old castle, both Longfellow-haunted to me; and to the va- rious charming places in the environs — become almost as familiar as the favorite haunts of child- hood. Our bright little Fraulein, whose dainty motions made one think of a bird's, said in her very best English: **You must tired once more get, and soon again come home/' Her eyes were brimming with tears. The good frau mother took me in her arms, and in German fashion pressed each of my cheeks against each of hers. It was a most charming family. We spent a night at Baden, the great Spa — the ex-gambling hell — the beautiful city that has risen from its degradation and put on robes of innocence. This is due to the efforts of the pres- ent and the preceding grand duke, both men of exceptionally noble characters, and warmly hon- ored and loved. The former prosperity and popularity given by the seductions of the gam- bling bank have been succeeded and surpassed by attractions of a different and higher kind.' Instead of the dreadful fascinations of the Cur- 54 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. sail, the palatial Friedrichsbad, said to be the most complete bathing establishment in the world, offers the healing and luxury of its ther- mal and mineral baths. It takes its name from the reigning grand duke, who was its chief and most intensely interested projector. But his wise exertions and princely tastes have apparently known no restrictions. They have been shown in the erection of other magnificent buildings, in the laying out and exquisite adornment of public parks and promenades ; indeed in doing every- thing possible to render Baden not only a de- lightful summer resort, but suitable for a perma- nent home. It is provided with theaters, balls, fine music, scientific lectures, etc. The results justify his efforts and sagacious foresight. Wealthy families of rank all over Germany are making it a home. Do I seem to dwell on Baden and its grand duke ? Well, I may as well admit, all the homage I am capable of is evoked by such a man and such a work. I have his photograph and many little pictures of his Baden ! Have you ever read in a way that impressed you to remembrance of the beautiful situation of Baden ? The highest compliment that can be bestowed, as the guide- book says, is this: **It vies with Hiedelberg.*^ HEIDELBERG TO NUREMBERG* 55 It lies among picturesque wooded hills^ at the entrance of the Black Forest, on the Oehlbach; it is on the right bank of the stream, and runs up ** a slope of the Battert/^ the summit of which is crowned by the New Schloss, one of the grand duke^s residences. It has a Saratoga look. Haven^t all watering places a close kin look? But it has its own foreign look too, and distinct- ive features, even from those of Weisbaden, its rival. On the left bank of the Oos — ** the well cor- rected Oos,*^ as I have seen it called somewhere, because it has been confined for some distance between high stone walls — are the pleasure grounds, the Conversationhaus (the old Cur- saal), the Trinkhalle on one side of an open square, full of avenues of shade trees, and in one comer of which is the gay and fanciful ** Music- Kiosk,*^ where the band plays, and the Lichten- thale Allee. This last is an avenue of ** vanishing distances,** of lime trees, oaks, maples, flower- beds, shrubberies, fountains, and all kinds of ornamental seats scattered through it. The Oos, the most turbid, turbulent strip of a river, dashes along as if in a perfect fury at those confining walls. The walls themselves, though, are a special feature of the rare loveliness that meets 56 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS* the glance on every side; they are so festooned and draped with vines one can scarce more than guess at the stones so veiled. The Virginia creeper was so in excess the river seemed rush- ing between a running fire of crimson flames. It was indeed ** exceeding beautiful/* In the evening we walked in the brilliantly lighted square, peering into the gay shop windows, stop- ping to listen to the band, mingling with the throngs of well-dressed people, and bringing up in the ** great saloon ** (fifty-four yards long and seventeen wide) of the Conversationhaus for a rest and a study of the novel scene. Finally we strolled through the two old gambling saloons (the Landscape and the Italian) and ever so many others, and lost ourselves in admiration of the beauty and comfort. The next day we spent in driving to the Old Schloss, six miles from town, on a high **berg,** and to all the points of most interest. The Old Schloss is a very romantic old ruin, and commands the finest views around Baden, From it we went to the New Schloss, and were shown through a num- ber of handsome saloons and the apartment of the grand duke and duchess. It was such a perfect little gem of an apartment that I must give you a peep into it, A comparatively quite HEE)ELBERG TO NUREMBERG. 57 small oblong room^ with two doors opposite each other and in the middle of each wall* One end of the oblong was a dead wall, the other a large bay window of the loveliest stained glass, in pic- tures of all the choicest points about Baden. Only the center pane was plain glass; it too, though, framing a lovely view of the scene out- side. The doors were rather doorways, being, I should think, ten feet high by four wide, all apparently one solid magnificent mirror. As one steps across the threshold, himself or herself is beheld before, behind, on either hand, overhead, in infinite repetition. The French custodian made merry in showing off this ingenious and amusing trick of reflecting surfaces. After this came the Friedrichsbad, with its innumerable varieties of baths, the Trinkhalle and a glass of its steaming water, and — ** and other things too numerous to make mention of,^* to quote from our old town crier. With decided reluctance we set our faces toward Strassburg, where, to be sure, we wished to go, but we did not feel ready to leave Baden. We spent two days at Strassburg. You know there was the grand Cathedral, with its grander clock, to see, the fortifications, some fine public parks, and the immense Alsatian bows 5Z BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. with the women attached, besides a lunch on the famous local dish, pates de foie gras. I cir- cumnavigated the Cathedral, loitered through and through it, and finally sat down before the clock at the stroke of eleven, to watch it through the next hour. I saw the little boy come out and strike his quarter and disappear, the youth, the middle-aged man, the old man; and then the grand midday procession of puppets repre- senting the Apostles, pass before another puppet representing Christ, making fitting reverence, all but that dreadful Judas, who turned his back on him. The cock, too, performed beautifully, flapped his wings and stretched out his neck, and crowed a sure-enough chanticleer crow, loud enough and cheerily enough to waken the soundest sleeper and make the laziest willing to creep out of bed. The little angel turned his hour-glass, the show was over, and I came away very much impressed with that wonder of mechanism which has been running and regulating itself ever since J 842, and is calcula- ted to do this for an unlimited number of years. And don^t you think I did right to shut my ears and refuse to listen to a young Yankee '*PauI Pry,*^ recently from a six months^ sojourn in Strassburg, who wished to make me believe HEIDELBERG TO NUREMBERG. S9 there was a man behind performing a la — the organ-grinder ! The Alsatian bows were a per- petual feast of fun, but as a feast of the palate once is often enough for me of the pates de f oie gras. From Strassburg through the Black Forest by rail was a run of 728 miles* We had a series of thirty-eight tunnels in succession* The very foundation rocks of the earth seem to have been blasted and dug through to make this admirable road; the round charms of which could not be summed up in a Summer day^s gossip. L* G. C* Munich, September 27, J 882. LETTER FROM MUNICH, JjADEN was perfect in its way, and we left reluctantly. We ** did** it quite thor- oughly — ^had a six mile drive to the Old Schloss, a fine old ruin, on top of a high hill, with beau- tiful views of bergs, valleys, and the town. Then a visit to the New Schloss, one of the residences of the Grand Duke. We were shown through some noble apartments, which I ^11 de- scribe to you in detail when we meet. We went to the Trinkhalle and drank some of the stream- ing water. The others made faces, but I did not find it unpleasant. Then through the great Friedrichsbad, the principal bath-house. I believe it furnishes every kind known to science or de- sired by either suffering or luxurious humanity. And so on. At Strassburg, the Cathedral with that wonderful clock ! ** The half has not been told,^^ and it does not begin to come up to the reality. The way that cock flaps its wings, stretches its neck and crows is enough to make all created cocks die of envy. At St. Thomas Church, with its magnificent monument to Mar- shal Saxe; and its most singular chapel, con- (60) MUNICH. 61 taming the bodies of the Duke of Nassau and his daughter — the former embalmed, the latter a slowly crumbling skeleton — both dressed in the very clothes they wore ! I cannot imagine a more ghastly and singular spectacle than that of each lying there in an air-tight coffin, the entire top of glass, thus allowing a full view.* Yet it was not revolting to me, except as the dead were made a spectacle of. I gazed at them with an equal fascination and reverence. We were much interested in the fortifications, great numbers of soldiers and their drilling. And we did not fail to indulge in the Strass- burg specialty of pates de foie gras. I was re- minded of a criticism on a juvenile composition of mine by one who knew how not to withhold the wholesome truth : ** Its individuality is not sufficiently palpable.*' At Constance we held our ** Council,** and the reports from Switzerland being very unfavorable, decided to put it off to a more auspicious season. Constance is a most charmingly situated and attractive little city. We stayed at the Insel * My memory is in a fog, but I think it was beneath this monu- ment I had just read these words of comment : ** Baedeker says the old gent " — when I was ruthlessly hurried away j and now^ I shall never know what Baedeker said. All the same, I feel sure Young America was the irreverent commentor. 62 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. Hotel, the old monastery, in which Huss was imprisoned, you know; and I saw the cell in which he was confined. It was underground, and its walls were washed by the waters of the lake, I set my feet on that white spot in the slab of the nave of the Cathedral where he stood when he was condemned to be burned at the stake. You remember it is said to remain dry always, even when the rest is wet. Finally, we drove to the stone that marks the place where he and Jerome suffered that dreadful sentence. It is a pile of rocks, all overgrown with ivy and other vines, except where slabs show through bearing commemorative inscriptions. From Constance to Lindau we had an en- chanting sail over an emerald sea, with many a pretty village gleaming along its shore, ** like a white swan on her reedy nest f and then green hills, that soon turned into denser clouds, as it were, and directly, almost in a flash, the snow- covered Alps ! Railway from Lindau here; and such a succession of pictures! Long, green valleys, dotted with picturesque villages; chains of wooded knolls; ranges of dark, pine-covered mountains, overtopped in places with a vast jumble of cones ; snow-covered Alps again, that MUNICH, 63 shone in the sunlight like molten silver I "Words avail little toward reproducing such a panorama* Only one^s own eyes can do it even the faintest justice* I hope you have seen it, or, if not, will some day sooTt.f before you grow an old man. Have had a long, lazy, inconsequential, just- going-anywhere-I-pleased stroll this perfect after- noon* The sky is without a fleck; the air crys- tal clear ; the sunshine just that happy mingling of warmth and bracing quality that makes mere animal existence an ecstasy* I could have walked to the uttermost ends of the earth in it* The streets are wide, clean, admirably paved, hand- somely built; fine houses of beautiful designs ki a soft, creamy-white stone* Parks, gardens, avenues, open squares, trees, flowers, grass, and grand monuments are innumerable* I felt as if I were under a spell of enchantment* What a place to shrink from was ** indoors ! ^* I stayed out till the very last moment* What a city indeed is this Munchen, the capital of ** pretentious little Bavaria I ** Think of the days of delight before me in its vast halls of art ! I am sure you will, and with an added invocation out of your kind heart for whatever else may be good for me. L* G* C. Munich, September 24, i882. MUNCHER HIS moment finished the second reading ^ of yours of 22d» Ah! there are some things you don^t have any conception of; for instance, you don't know how good it is to get a letter from home in a foreign land. I do. Oh! Oh! Oh! I came in from the opera, Beethoven's ** Fi- delio/' in German, in a.** rapt ecstasy/' and, in the act of seating myself at our ** after the play little supper," I saw your letter lying on my plate. I am intuitive; I knew it was from you. I picked it up and laid it down with the address on the under side. What would ** Goggles" say to that? No; he is not a woman; he is not Miss S . The French have a proverb that runneth in this wise: **La patience c'est la genie." K it had been wisdom those keen little epigrammatists would not have missed it so. However, I do not wish to discourage you in the exercise of that passive virtue; rather let it ** work its good and perfect work." Miss S , not ** Goggles," then said: ** Why are you not (64) MUNCHER (>^ going to read your letter; will it keep?*' Of course I blushed and hung down my head and simpered, and — but youVe seen the process many a time. Now, what would you %iivz to know how soon I got through with that dainty meal, and hurried away to be *^ all alone to my- self/' to pore over the letter that confessed to two ^* love letters *' to another woman. It does not need you or anybody else to convince me I am the superarchangelic creature I was reported to you. I know it myself now 1 See how good I am to write at this late hour, not finding it possible to put you off to that will-o'-the-wisp time, **a, more convenient season." And so glad of the love letters; not jealous a bit, be- cause they went where I want them to go! ^^ Don't worry in well doing," ^'effuse," "flow like the lava," ** let all the currents of your being set that way," and so come into possession of that great estate which all the kingdoms of the earth cannot match — "a noble woman nobly planned." Oh, please, I did not write those letters for any one but my sister-in-law. She cut them up, and pieced them together again to suit them to ** print." After they were published she wrote what she had done, begging my for- giveness, but making such an appeal in behalf 66 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. of the paper I not only could not condemn, I even had to tell her she might do as she pleased with my letters to her, only my name must not be knoivn in connection with them. You fairly frighten me when you speak of them in the same breath with your friends Mr.W and '' E. A/' Indeed, I feel timid about writing to you, since you have such letters as theirs. Only, we write to each other for the simple ** fun of the thing,^*^ not giving much heed to anything else, don^t we? And, on the whole, I hail from *^OId Kaintuck,^' and that doesn^t mean cowardice in any direction exactly ! I wish you could have been with me in Nuremberg — my heart city. You M have seen things too — all that I did not see ; and between us there would not have been much left behind. I am going back there some day — ah! that misty future — it may be as the children are cred- ited with saying, though I never heard them, ** before soon,*^ and it may be when I die and am resurrected there. This Bavarian soil has a curiously homey tread. I can easily see how I might linger here, ** maybe for years, maybe forever.** So much to do; so many places to go to ; so much to see ; such food for thought, im- agination, for dolce far niente. You know the MUNCHER 67 kind of pabulum that witching state of existence claims^ but who can describe it ? I am tempted to give you **2l sample day** out of this wonder life in Munich. Do I count egotistically when I admit I count on your caring for it, because I count on the interest of friendship ? Did I tell you to expect and excuse repetitions ? Think how many letters I write, and every one wishes to hear everything, and I try not to disappoint. We are fortunate in pensions. I am on Maximilian Platz, and my windows look out on, first, the Schiller Monument Platz, an ex- quisite memorial platz, all to itself; a semi- circle, with a thick half belt of trees for the background; in front an oval plat of grass, bordered with a bed of flowers, in the center of which stands the statue in bronze on a v/hite marble pedestal. Just in front of it, grown in the grass, is an evergreen wreath; beyond it rise, above a thicket of trees in their rich Au- tumn tints, the towers of the Wittelsbach Palace, the residence of Ludwig (grandfather of the pres- ent king) after his abdication, Brienner strasse on one side and Maximilian Phiz (a great semi- circular street) on the other. By the way, they converge, the latter here running into the other, and thus making an end of itself, from a spacious 68 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. boulevard and driveway^ around which are blocks of fine edifices in a cream-colored stone* Immediately beneath my windows is a small triangular platz, a bijou of a beer garden, in trees and vines, a gorgeous mosaic of greens, golds, browns and scarlets, and bowers and ta- bles, and chairs and shaded lamps, the kind that make moonlight. Well, I begin the day with my breakfast in my own apartment, all alone* That^s the cus- tom of the country, you know, not my indolence. With that spectacle to interest and claim my eager eyes, I shall give you day before yesterday. At JO a. m. Miss S and I went to the pal- ace, which means an entire square composed of three immense palaces — the Konigsbau, the Alte Resident, or Old Palace, and the Festsaal- bau — each occupying one side of the square; the fourth being filled up with the Court Chapel and Court Theater. The greater part of all these is accessible, which makes so much to be seen it has to be taken in ** broken doses,^* so zu sagen. The Schatzkammer (Treasury) was our objective point. We ran the gauntlet of soldiers on guard, a spacious court with a hand- some fountain, a kind of cloistered stretch with a wonderful grotto of shells, a maze of small MUNCHER 69 ante-rooms, till finally, in a state of perfect be- wilderment, we were taken in hand by the major-domo, who procured our tickets (a little ceremony requiring your cards and a silver mark), and ushered us into — oh ! Monte Christo, the Arabian Nights, that stately pleasure dome that Kublai-Khan decreed in Zanadu! We wandered through them all. First, through a long gallery called the Stammbaum (Genealog- ical Tree), containing the portraits of the princes and princesses of the house of Wittelsbach. The room itself is most attractive in gold, gilt and white ornamentation, what space is left from the pictures — a collection that any family might be proud of* At the end, *^ Open Sesame,** and a great door flies back, and we enter. I wish I had Ovid^s pen, with which he wrote the de- scription of the Palace of the Sun! Such a blaze of diamonds and rubies, and pearls and emeralds, and all the gems of the earth ! There was the Hausdiamant^ a monster brilliant **in the Order of the Golden Fleece;** and the Palat- inate pearl, half black, half white; strings of buttons by the yard of diamonds, a central one as large as a silver quarter, encircled by smaller ones; breast-plates, as it were, of pear-shaped pearls dangling from a mesh of diamonds; 70 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. crowns of diamonds that had a blinding bril- liancy; cabinets filled with vessels made from rich stones and inlaid with the most precious stones; a copy of Trajan^s Pillar it took the goldsmith twenty years to execute; and more of such royal belongings than I could get into a day's description. And one thing not put down in the cata- logue: As I was standing transfixed by some ornaments in pink rubies and diamonds, over my shoulder sounded the tones of a woman's voice in American English. You ought to have heard the suppressed fervor of my exclamation under my breath : ** Oh, you blessed American tongue 1 *' I turned to confront a most agreeable countrywoman, just as eager as myself for recog- nition on that ground alone. I met her again at the opera to-night, and we had another chat. I think her husband is an artist, as they live in Florence, and he told me he had been over here sixteen or seventeen years, and was ^* longing to get back home.'' On leaving the palace. Miss S came home ; but I was n't half ready for indoors — never am except at meal-times and bed-time I So I wandered around the streets in the sunshine, looking in the shop windows and picking up a picture here and there — among The Old Kaiser at Historical "Window. MUNCHEN. 71 them that of the **Vier Konige/* as the old Kaiser calls it, himself holding his baby great- grandson with as proud an air as if it was his own first-born son, with his son and grandson on either side* Four living generations in the same picture is indeed a spectacle to be made a note of* Another picture was that including the em- press, crown princess, and the young mother herself holding her little king. It is a picture beaming with both pride and happiness. That must have been one of Iife*s happy moments — one of the few supreme flashes of earthly felicity. And on compulsion — dinner, always in Germany a mid-day meal. I am a true Bohemian now; but I was a housekeeper once, and I don^t like to derange the order of a household, so I am al- ways ^* on time.^^ After dinner, out again by myself, Miss S having a German lesson. First, a call at a book-store for a variety of Mu- nich gossip. The proprietor is a handsome young man — cultivated, traveled, of good fam- ily — his father being a captain in the army, and a very genial, well-mannered person. I drop in on him quite often. He has been all over the United States, even to Cincinnati. I did not ask him about W ! As I sauntered out — I do 72 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS, everything just as the whim takes me — I thought l*d have a droschke drive^ so I hailed one and stepped in. Oh ! the earth, air and sky of these Munich days 1 A whole week of them, too, of that kind that makes one exclaim, ** Mere exist- ence is a luxury/* After awhile I dismissed it at the door of the Kaulhach Gallery. It is not a large one, only a large room, as full as it can hold of the sketches and a few pictures of that popular Mu- nich artist* It is on a retired street; a very pretty, tasteful building in a garden* A few, from one to three or four persons at a time, were coming and going the hour and a half I loitered. I am not going to bore you or any one with a catalogue or description of pictures, but one was so beautiful and touching I want you to look at it a moment through the lens of my — pen. A city still in the shadow of the night; gleams of dawn in the east; just floating up into the clear, higher air an angel clasping a little child in its arms, with only the words ** Zu Gott f* such a common idea, so simply wrought out, but I could not get away from it. The sketches were intensely interesting. Some were outlines with pencil or pen; others MUNCHEN. 73 quite fully worked out, of nearly all his great masterpieces* The cunning of his good right hand seemed never to have been at a loss. His portrait, painted by himself, stood on an easel, with three fadeless chaplets placed upon it by that loving homage which honors alike those who give and those who receive* Out again and on again, turning my feet obstinately from the ** home stretch.'^ Several squares took me to the ** English Garden,*' founded by Count Rumford, our uneuphonious ** Mr. Thompson.** Acres of greenery in drives, walks, bowers, lakes, streams, etc., right on the edge of the city. Like Kane and the Polar Sea, I stood on the brink but did n*t jump in. I did not quite like strolling in its shady depths by myself. I had driven through, and the knowl- edge which neutralizes temptation might have had as much influence to the abstinence as the discretion. No bringing myself to the self-appli- cation of the word cowardice ! Besides, there was counter-attraction somewhere within sev- eral squares which I had not seen, Ludwig- kirche, with its altar painting, ** The Last Judg- ment,** the largest oil painting in the world, sixty-three feet high and thirty-nine feet broad* 74 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. Did you know that ? I did n*t till the guide-hook told me. You are welcome to my hard-earned information. I wish I had time to say some- thing I want to just ** in this connection.** Hm ! I haven^t; I must hurry on. Of course^ the painting is a masterpiece of art. Is n*t that the conventional expression that slips so ^* trip- pingly** from the half -fledged tourist? Among the spirits of the blessed is that of King Ludwig, crowned with laurels, attained presumably after his separation from Lola; also that of Dante, the poet of heaven and hell, in a red garment; and of Fra Angelico, the painter of Paradise, in the Dominican robe. I did not give a close in- spection to the spirits of the other order* Ves- per service was in progress, and I sat and watched the devout at their aves and pater- nosters, a scene in its way food for rather pain- ful meditation. Such mechanical worship ; such slavish superstition! Descending the entrance steps as I left the church, I was struck by their worn appearance. The daily tread of the mul- titudes of worshipers has left them almost un- safe. Then I lagged along Ludwig Strasse, the fine street entirely originated by that same King Ludwig who had public spirit and energy enough to hide a multitude of faults. MUNCHEN. 75 The sun was leaving me so fast I had to turn homeward, which I did as reluctantly as you turn back from some of your long tramps, I suspect. Is n't a Munich day a rather fascinating span of life? I match the above day by day. Do you know what a large city it is — 230,000 popula- tion ? And how grand and clean and comfort- able? I am wishing I could transport it to the United States for myself and my elect ones to dwell in ! For oh ! such bread and butter and coffee as abound! There! the weakness for creature comfort will not be thrust aside ! Don't you want to know what neighbors I have ? A banker at the end of this etage, a wid- ower with a cherub of a child, and in the next suite of apartments to mine — a baron ! Such a splen- did-looking man ! If he had only come sooner — you know the adage about propinquity — before I had quite lost my heart I I couldn't help it* I was taken ^*so unawares" — not in the least dreaming what would be the issue— when I could not wrest my gaze from that superb crea- ture in such brilliant array. Don't tell on me! A Prussian officer ! His uniform is the acme of taste, gorgeousness and becomingness ; his off- duty saunter on the street the ultimatum of grace ; his easy, dignified, unconscious bearing the per- 76 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. fection of deportment. He never stares at one. It was the merest accident that our eyes met, and the damage was done. Our glances got tangled in each other, and the more we struggled the more hopeless the knot. His name? You prom- ise not to betray this weakness — but could I be a true American woman and come abroad and not lose my heart? His name is Legion; for I can't tell them apart any more than I can help adoring them all — the graceful, gracious, gor- geous beings of gold and plumes and cockades and pompons, and altogether such uniforms! For what else were they made, indeed? See how I take you into my confidence ? And now then, father confessor, having made a clean breast of it, I shall betake myself to my couch, in the words of ** Goggles,*' to ** sleep the sleep of youth, innocence and beauty/* Did you say you were going to write fortnightly or weekly ? The first will be best. L. G. C. Munchen, October 23, 1882. MUNICH. AY, how many copies have you of those foaming sheets you sent me from M for a letter ? And to how many other addresses have they been sent ? I am curious to know* They were never evoked by me — of that I am sure* Nor do I attribute their existence to the overwhelming influence of any other special fem- inine divinity; rather to one of those supreme intervals — his satanic majesty's own — ^when "The d — 1 finds for idle hands Some mischief still to do." You were alone; you were **in a state of mind;** you "Sat in revery and watched The changing colors of the waves that broke Upon the idle seashore of the mind." You summoned up ^* spirits of that vasty deep, red, white and blue;" the flimsy creatures, what were they but shades of all your divinities, the slim maidens of your boyhood, the stately goddesses of your cavalier period, ^^the pretty widows ** of your ** old bachelor ** era ? ** And so (77) 78 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. with the prodding of that flock of shadows and the impulse of your besetting iniquity you wrote that sample letter — good for one, good for all ? I can see the whole performance. Thankee, sir; I am not to be mistaken for one of that throng. There is nothing gregarious about me. Just leave me out when you give your *Mree lunch*' feasts of sauce and sugar-plums I You — But I enjoyed the composition **all the same.** What a pity you have never taken to novel writing. This letter — I can*t call it mine, you see, because it belongs to all of them — ah ! this letter ** shows your hand.** Believe me, you *ve missed your field in literature. Are you too old to begin over? I ask this because I am beginning to have misgivings in the face of my old sturdy belief that one never outgrew the ability to do if only the will were not wanting. I — ^I — how shall I admit it? I find there are things I can*t do. Of course it is because one grows old, even with the best intentions not to. No, I never want to; and here I am minus the roses of other days and plus wrinkles and gray hairs beyond all calculation, and seriously con- templating a mouthful of false teeth. Sigh for me ! Was ever anything so lamentable ? I am so glad you told me about your evening with MUNICH. 79 my dear friends, the F s. How plain you made me see the familiar room. It was good of you all to remember me so. They are of earth^s choicest— so high-souled, so loyal, so good. I have yet to see the man who does not do homage to Mrs. F , and the Doctor is one I delight to love and honor. I hope you met my other friend, Mr. W , of whom I dreamed last night. I was talking to you, and used this expression: ^*A11 the wrong he has ever done in his life — all and the only — is to have always done the right.*^ When I awoke I remembered it. How long I have known him — nearly from the beginning — ^away back yonder when I was a wee thing in pinafores. He said so pleasantly of that long acquaintance : ** The first time I saw her she was so high*' (meaning the midget I was) **and swinging in an apple tree; and she swung into my heart, and has been swinging there ever since.*' Are not those the kind of words ** for remembrance ? *' How good he has been to me. Some day I *11 make your heart throb, as these human hearts of ours are quick to do, hearing of the great and noble of earth, telling of all he has been to me and done for me in this life of mine, that has been more sorrow and heartache, you know, than comes to many. 80 BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS. n you could know him as I do — ^I think, no — I know you would appreciate my affection and reverence. His life has been a constant growth, grace overcoming nature, the lower giving way to the higher, conquest upon conquest, till I al- most tremble at that nearness to perfection which means fitness for that better Elsewhere, the ulti- matum of all our hopes and dreams. Here arc words of a man about him : ** Is n^t his the ten- derest, the lovingest, the gentlest, the purest, the whitest and best soul God ever gave to man ? ** Did ever you know any man speak so of an- other ? Think what mine will be when I give them leave. Do you observe that I speak to you with perfect freedom, having no fear to ex- press my enthusiasm ? It is because / kno