LIBRARY OF CONGRESS Dooosbmasa '7V»« V 1 ^ •«8J$fc ^oi 9 AV ■S '-. <.' S3O0 ■■■■' ' V V i : ' °o. ^«^ " -•■. &k*. %.. ,# .v- ■ : " v.. " •■■•.•:'■. A ♦. ^ ■■•■::■■ &■,.-« <.;■ %•;■■ ■'■■■■-,>:■.,-—'■■ ■■■•;•-"' ^ ' c/a flfacf ua^o ^ffV ^{a^fk/^^ ^n^€ MY HUSBAND, STRIDING ON AHEAD DID NOT NOTICE THE UNCOMPLIMENTARY LABEL ATTACHED TO THE GOWN OF HIS SPOUSE.' 9 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR BY JULIA CLARK HALLAM. SIOUX CITY, IOWA, 1900. THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, One Copy Received APR, 1 1901 Copyright entry CLJvl. if, 'tfc f CLASS O/XXc. No. COPY B. PERKINS BROS. CO., Printers and Stationers, Sioux City, Iowa. • e • c * g & « c ffl? Introduction. The European trip which is described in this little story was the culmination of a life- time of hopes and anticipations. I realize that impressions of so brief a journey will seem extremely crude and "scrappy," particularly to those who have spent years upon the same ground. I have told the story as it actually occurred, not assuming to know, where I did not know, and endeavoring not to take up space with details and facts to be easily found elsewhere. My husband and myself made up the party "conducted by ourselves," and the experi- ences are individual. The story was begun as a simple journal of the trip, with no thought of its ever being published in book form. My largest hope for it is that it may inspire some to "see for themselves." Of course, in "seeing for oneself," many things are disap- pointing, but on the whole there will be added to life that which can be added in no other way - . J. O. H. Sioux City, Iowa, August 17, 1900. contents. Chapter I. Getting Started. The Boundless Ocean. Shakes- peare's Home. II. Oxford. First Impressions of London. III. Old Westminster and Its Stories. St. Paul's. • IV. Some Things in the Museums. England's His- toric Prison. V. Queen Victoria and Windsor Castle. Hampton Court. VI. Woman's Clubs of London. A Woman in the House of Commons. VII. The Picture Galleries. Miscellaneous Objects of Interest. VIII. Hyde Park. White Chapel. Across the Channel. IX. A Delightful Trip on the Historic Rhine. Wies- baden. Heidelberg. X. Heidelberg University, and Some Other Expe- riences. BlacK Forest and Falls of the Rhine. XI. Zurich. Entrancing Beauties About Lucerne. The Ride up Mount Rigi. XII. Leave Switzerland for Historic Italy. Cathedral and Other Art Works of Milan. XIII. Venice Fulfills Highest Anticipations. The Ar- rival. XIV. Piazza of St. Mark's. Bridge of Sighs. The Old Bell Tower. CONTENTS. CHAPTER XV. Delights of a Visit to Florence. How We Reached the City. XVI. Rare Pleasures Among Great Masterpieces of Art. XVII. We Reach the Eternal City. St. Peter's. XVIII. The Capitoline Hill. Forum and Colosseum. In- teresting Experiences. XIX. The Pincian Hill. A Roman Villa. Pisa and Its Wonderful Tower. XX. We Face Towards Home. The Alps Again. Other Experiences. XXI. A Visit to the Vale of Chamonix. Wonders About Mount Blanc. XXII. Paris at Last. Tomb of Napoleon. The Venus. Experiences. XXIII. Interesting Monuments. Bois de Boulogne. Tuilleries. French Market. XXIV. Late Hours on the Boulevards. Characteristic Street Incident. Shopping in Paris. XXV. Enough of Paris. On to Scotland. Melrose and Abbotsford. XXVI. Stirling Castle. The Trossachs. Experiences. Glasgow. Home. THE STORY*OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTER I. GETTING STARTED. THE BOUNDLESS OCEAN. SHAKESPEARE'S HOME. There are few places more full of active in- terest than the wharf of a great ocean steamer upon the eve of its departure. The ship hands, with their peculiar intonations, are intent upon loading on the cargo. Bag- gage is arriving constantly. Passengers are running hither and thither to discover and identify their own particular property. We arrived at the dock in the midst of this exciting scene, and, being anxious to make a study of its details, our own baggage having been duly arranged for, we seated ourselves upon an innocent looking steamer trunk, which happened to be convenient, and pro- ceeded to do so. When tired of this occupa- tion, we rose and walked on, all unconscious of the fact that I had been sitting upon a wet label, which, when I got up, remained affixed to the back breadth of my gown. My THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. husband, striding on ahead, and peering through his glasses at the sights around him, failed entirely to observe that his spouse was advertised in large red letters as "not want- ed." I might have worn this uncompliment- ary legend to the end of the voyage had not the gentlemanly room steward smilingly asked permission to remove it. Our experi- ence in "being abroad" began early, for we sailed in an English ship, and I shall never forget the entirely unlooked for feeling of remonstrance which filled me when I discov- ered that it was not "Old Glory" which was waving over me. Just a word about the won- derful experience of finding oneself for the first time out in mid-ocean. Nothing but the vast heaving undulating prairies of gray water stretching out until they meet the gray skv coming down to meet them from above. The ship is but a speck in the midst of it all. The motion of the ship reminded me of an animal springing. It takes three plunges bow down, stern up, then stops and quivers as if getting ready for another spring. Then the plunging and quivering is repeated, and the process goes on hour after Hour, day and night, until the wonder is, not that peo- THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. pie are seasick, but that any human consti- tution should be able to endure the unnat- ural motion. I noticed the remarkable popu- larity among the passengers of the refrain, u Oh, Mister Captain, stop the ship; I want to get off and walk." When the wind blows a gale, the gray prairies are transformed into white-capped hills. It seemed to me that the stoutest heart must quake a little when the great mountains of water come rolling down upon the ship> with a crash and a roar. It is peculiar how large the steamer seemed when she lay at the dock. It hardly seemed like leaving the land to walk on to the commodious deck. But when in mid-ocean how tiny she is! The waves had a fascination for me, which I confess I never tried to resist. They were so constantly in motion that it seemed as if they must be living things. I loved to stand and w T atch them as they curled and broke around the bow of the steamer, and I wished that I might see a mer- maid rising" from the depths, with, her stream- ing hair, or* rolling in those delightful little cradles which keep making and unmaking themselves. It seemed to me that a mermaid THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. would not be any more wonderful than the other things about us. It rained part of the time, and the waves blew up so that you could taste the salt water on your lips, and still there was an irresistible fascination about being out on the deck, just as near the great billows as it was possible to get. By the time we had begun to feel as if we had never been anywhere all our lives ex- cept tossing about in an ocean steamer, we reached Liverpool. Liverpool is a very in- teresting city from a commercial point of view, being, I believe, the second largest shipping point in the world. But historically it is of much less interest than many other places in England, so w T e went at once to War- wick, a typical old time English village, and interesting to Americans on account of the beautiful castle there w T hich has been kept in a perfect state of preservation, and is occu- pied by the present Earl of Warwick. The castle is a magnificent stone structure, built around a central square where the visitor is greeted by the sight of an extensive lawn, broken by broad walks and brilliant flower gardens. A guide showed us through a num- ber of rooms which were beautiful with ele- THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. gant tapestry and antique wood carving, and the rarest of china, upon which the kings and queens of England have dined. There were also beautiful paintings by such artists as Holbein, Teniers, Rubens, Vandyke and others. The part which interested me most of all was the remains of the old moat which surrounded the entire castle, and which was kept filled with water in the stormy days of England's history. The draw-bridge is now overgrown with vines and moss. We visited the ancient castle of Kenilworth, which is in the vicinity, upon the same day. The latter castle is built upon very much the same plan as Warwick, but at the present time is a rapidly decaying ruin. As we peered into its dark cells, towers, and subterranean chambers, we were obliged to supply with our imaginations what the tooth of time had so ruthlessly destroyed. But the weird sur- roundings made it easy to bring back those regal days before Cromwell took it into his head to batter down the baronial strongholds of England. From Kenilworth we rode to Stratford-on-Avon through a country so beau- tiful as to suggest the existence of a continu- ous private park. The roads are broad and THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. perfectly kept, and the meadows were at that time (early in July) brilliant with scarlet poppies. These flowers, which grow wild in great profusion in many parts of England, are a great nuisance to farmers, but add im- mensely to the beauty of the scene for those who are simply there to enjoy the beautiful things wherever they are to be found. Shortly after noon we found ourselves driving up the long street where stands the house in which the immortal Shakespeare was born. The house looks exactly like the pictures of it which are familiar to all lovers. and students of Shakespeare. A cord comes out from some- where above the door which the visitor pulls in order to gain admission. The interior of the house impressed me much more than did the outside. The apparent age of the structure was the most interesting part. The floors throughout, which the attendant assured us were the very same upon which Shakespeare himself had trod were rugged and uneven. The ceiling and walls were propped and but- tressed in order to keep them from falling down upon the heads of the enthusiastic de- votees who come in crowds to worship there. Climbing a pair of rickety stairs, we saw the THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. room in which the poet was born. No furni- ture remains there but a table and a couple of chairs, and the original floor of this room has been overlaid, with coarse planks similar to the original, but still not the same as the ones upon which the baby feet of the great dram- atist first learned to carry their owner about. Upon the small panes of glass in the window may be seen the names of the great person- ages who at different times have been visitors to this historic spot. The names of Thomas Carlyle and Walter Scott were pointed out to us, but they were so dim that I hardly think we should have discovered them unaided. In another part of the house (for an extra fee) we saw a number of the personal effects of Shakespeare, such as his ring, watch, chair and so forth. There were also some original manuscripts, a copy of every edition of his works which has ever been printed, and a large number of portraits of himself and dif- ferent members of his family. I must confess, however, that these things did not move or thrill me. I was much disappointed that they did not, for the sensation of being thrilled is always a pleasant one, and I am sure is al- ways considered one of the attractions of a THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. trip abroad. When I came to reason with myself as to why I was not thrilled by the sight of these souvenirs of greatness I de- cided that it was because I had Jieard so much about them that they seemed old, and fur- ther, because there was a feeling in my heart all the time that many of them were not gen- uine. There were so many years during which Shakespeare was neither appreciated nor understood that it seems altogether improb- able that there should be so many original Shakespeare souvenirs in a good state of preservation. From the house we walked to what is known as "Shakespeare's Church," which is also his burial place. This is a building which has been very much idealized by the pictures of it. It is not beautiful from an architectural standpoint, and it is very much discolored with age. It is surrounded by a cemetery full of moulding tombstones. The river Avon, however, which flows back of the church, is extremelv pretty, and the popular view, which contains a portion of the church peeping from among the trees and a little glimpse of the Avon in the foreground, is certainly attractive. The modern memorial THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. to Shakespeare, a handsome theater, is one of the "sights" of the city, although one cannot but wonder where the people come from to patronize so vast a structure. Ann Hatha- way's cottage, which is well represented by the pictures of it, is about a mile and a half beyond the town. I confess to have been in- terested in the little shops, w T hich abound in knick-knacks, adapted to attract the verdant tourist. I would fain purchase a "bust" of Shakespeare, but as we had many miles of travel before us I thought that it would prob- ably "bust" before we reached home. But when I found that the price of the "bust" was only a sixpence, I decided to invest, feeling that Ave would not be "bust" even though the "bust" did "bust." ' On the whole, the town, itself contained more of interest for me than any particular thing in it. THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTER II. OXFORD. FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF LONDON. We had only planned one more stop in Eng- land before going to the. "great city" — Lon- don. This stop was to be at the historic town of Oxford, whose world-wide reputation as a college center always attracts the American tourist. Besides the college, or rather the group of twenty colleges, which has made this English town so famous, it was the scene of the great religious conflict of the sixteenth century, which resulted in the burning at the stake of Bishops Latimer, Bidley and Cran- mer. We were shown through St. Mary's church, where these noted men were tried and condemned to death. It is here, also, that the unfortunate Amy Eobsart, whose story has been made familiar to American readers through Scott's "Kenilworth," is said to be buried. These historical matters were faith- fully expounded to us by a chubby little woman who was cleaning the church when we went in. In return for her information she 10 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. gratefully pocketed the sixpence which was offered her. Later we repaired to that street where the iron cross sunk into the pavement marks the identical spot where the bishops suffered martyrdom, while in a finely located position a short distance from the cross stands the beautiful monument which has been 'erected to their memory. The monu- ment is a tall, tower-like structure, upon the top of which, looking in three different direc- tions, stand the figures of the three bishops. The name of each is inscribed below his form in letters so large that all who wish to read them may do so. The citizens of Oxford all seem familiar with the history connected with these memorials, and take great pride in pointing them out to the visitors. To return to the college — one little incident in connec- tion with our search for it will illustrate some of the difficulties of travelers, and at the same time illustrate the exceeding slowness with which some minds adjust themselves to an unfamiliar form of expression. We were ex- ploring the town on foot, and at the same time making our way in what we supposed to be the direction of the college. We w^ere in fact directly opposite one of the college build- ll THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. ings. So unlike a college did this building appear that we were constrained to ask a shopkeeper standing in front of his store if he would direct us to "Christ's College." He looked at us in blank amazement, shook his head and said there was no such building in town. We looked at each other and debated as to what was the matter with our question, for we knew we must be very near the build- ing we were seeking. Finally it occurred to us that it was sometimes called "Christ's Church College," and we repeated our former question, putting in the word "church." The face of the shopkeeper brightened up at once, and he pointed across the way to an expanse of dingy, discolored wall, which reminded me more of soldiers' barracks than of college buildings. An old man was at the door who, for a compensation, w r ould be glad to show us through all of the buildings and describe them to us. We accepted his services, and the next two hours were spent in wandering through the historic halls, chapels and gal- leries of old Oxford. The different colleges are strung along together, the walls of one joining closely to the walls of that next to it. Each college is built around a beautifully 12 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. kept quadrangle. We never could have under- stood just what the arrangement was if we had only obtained a view from the ground. But we climbed to the top of the "Camera," which is the reading room of the famous "Bodlian Library," where we obtained a beautiful and comprehensive view of all of the buildings, as well as of the rest of the city. I suppose that there exists nowhere upon this round earth literary relics and treasures of more intrinsic value than those which repose under the strictest watch and guard within the w^alls of the Bodlian Li- brary. So precious are many of the things which are kept in the "Camera" that notices are kept posted about the building imposing the strictest fine and penalty upon any one who shall bring either fire or light into it. And this, too, although the build- ing is composed entirely of stone and iron. One has to be exceedingly learned to appreci- ate the things which are found at Oxford. I felt that I knew very little, and wished that I could sit down and study about some of the things, but it is quite unnecesssary to say that I did not do this, for it was time to go to London. As the stuffy little compartment 13 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. cars which obtain throughout Europe bore us on — not so very swiftly — to the great metrop- olis which, though not the end of our journey, still was in a sense the Mecca of our desires, I experienced a most curious sensa- tion. It was probably a touch of that feeling which is wont to come to the mind when a desire which has existed in the heart for a lifetime is about to be fulfilled. It is a mix- ture of reluctance, hesitation and fear; an unexpected desire to postpone the fulfillment of the hope just upon the eve of its realiza- tion. But the cars did not stop for that, although they seemed to stop for nearly everything else, so slow was their progress. The good American custom of "calling the stations" is not indulged in on European roads, and the traveler is left to the delightful experience of finding out for himself at what station the train may be stopping. It was just in the early twilight of a July afternoon that we dis- covered by the bustle both inside and outside of the train that we were actually approach- ing the "biggest city* in the world." As we stepped out upon the platform I drew a long breath, not exactly knowing what to expect 14 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. in London. But there was nothing unusual or impresssive about the appearance of the station. A long line of the characteristic English cabs were drawn up near, while be- yond was a "perfect swarm" of 'buses. The first thing which one notices about the Lon- don 'buses is that there are seats upon the top, which enable the person riding to obtain a good view of the streets and the crowds which swarm through them at all hours of the day and night, while the 'bus trundles along upon its leisurely way — for no one in London is in a hurry. We had previously learned that a favorite rendezvous for transient tourists was "Rus- sell Square." Accordingly, as we neared this locality we clambered down from our ele- vated position of observation on top of the 'bus. We had no trouble in finding the long row of houses where every door bears the legend, in English fashion, "Board and Besi- dence," and soon found ourselves partaking of a bountiful dinner upon w T hich meal the English landlady particularly prides herself. As some daylight still remained after din- ner, we again betook ourselves to the street, and, hailing the first 'bus which we met, rode 15 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. until far into the night. The streets* are well lighted, and the experience was most novel and interesting. When we returned to our room and retired for our "first night in Lon- don/' we were somewhat overawed, I confess, by all we had seen and heard during the few short hours since we had set foot in London. But there was a sense of triumph in that very feeling of awe, because we felt that if we should die that night we should not have to go to the next world without having seen the largest city in this one. 16 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTER III. OLD WESTMINSTER AND ITS STORIES. ST. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL. The next morning, when consulting as to which of the many interesting and important portions of the city we should visit first, it seemed to make very little difference to me. I felt that "most any old sight" would do, so long as it was in London. We found, upon consulting^ the guide book (our most constant friend during our weeks of travel) that tour- ists usually went first to "Westminster Abbey". Of course, we did not want to be out of fashion, so we decided we would go to "Westminster Abbey" first, too. This his- toric structure is a long way from Russell Square, and we were obliged to get on and off of three different 'buses before we reached the "English Temple of Fame," situated upon the low grounds on the left bank of the Thames. When we finally entered its sacred precincts the regular ten o'clock services had begun. We walked in at the door of the north 17 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. transept, and took our seats among the quiet worshipers, quite a number of whom were carrying red guide books like ourselves. I am frank to say that my first impression of " Westminster Abbey" was one of the keenest disappointment. As the organ played, and the vested choir chanted its responses, there was plenty of time for the impression to sink deeply into my mind. The interior seemed to me to be dark, dingy and stuffy. The walls, pillars and floors are dark and discolored with age. The statuary, with which the place is almost crowded, is so poorly arranged and lighted that one could hardly enjoy it no mat- ter how fine it might be, and some of it is very far from being fine. In my disappointment, my criticism went to the extreme, and I de- clared to myself that it was suitable neither for a church or an art gallery, but was merely a dingy old cemetery, which compared very poorly with the beautiful places filled with flowers, fountains .and sunshine, where we lay our dead away in America. The "Poets' Corner," which we examined duly after the service was over, seemed so small as to be ridiculous in comparison with the ideal which I had formed of it in my own mind. It was 18 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. only after visiting the Abbey a number of times, occasionally when there was almost no- body else there, and after reviewing by myself the part which this building has played in the history of England, that I came in any degree to appreciate it I learned to realize that the very reason why it was so interesting was because it was so dark and dingy and old. I learned that if a thing were only old enough, it was not necessary for it to be beautiful in order to command respect and attention. Its very ugliness only added to its importance. We visited the Abbey many times and studied its various details with care and con- scientiousness. After having done this, I am free to say that there is no place in all Eng- land which I recall more frequently or with more pleasure than this. Among the things which impressed me the most strongly was thQ plain stone in the floor at the north transept marked "William Ewart Gladstone, died 1898. " After a good deal of hunting we found the stone in the floor of the main portion of the church which bears the words, now somewhat worn, "O rare Ben Jonson." The day was unusually dark, but by the help of the guide book we 19 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. located the spot and peered through the gloom until we had read the words in full. Robert Browning's name is on the floor of the poets' corner not far from the graves of Dick- ens, Spencer, Chaucer and others, w T hile there are statues to the memory of Addison, Ma- caulay, Thackeray, Goldsmith, Shakespeare, Burns, Southey, Campbell, Bacon, Milton, Dry- den and many more. Our American poet, H. W. Longfellow, has the distinguished honor of a place among these noted English men of letters. Jenny Lind Goldschmidt, repre- sented by a medallion portrait head, and a mask of Queen Elizabeth were the only trib- utes to women which I was able to discover in the "Poets' Corner." At the back or east end of the church are a series of rooms called the "Royal Chapels." They bear the names of different kings and contain some of the most precious historical relics in all England. There is on exhibition the chair in which all the sovereigns of England have been crowned since the year 1660, and the famous r ^Stone of Scone" upon which the Scottish kings used to receive their coronation. I remember that my mind went back to the school days when I studied English history, and was attracted 20 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. by the euphony of that expression. Little did I then think that the interesting original was in existence, and that it would ever be my lot to see it. Very many of the royal per- sonages of England lie buried in these chap- els, among them the far famed sovereign, Queen Elizabeth. I was constrained to linger for some time before the marble figure of this wonderful woman, with which her tomb was adorned, as I f have learned to look upon her, with all of her weakness and strength, as one of the epoch makers in the history of the world. I seemed to see behind those clear cut features and that high forehead, something of the power which made her the force she was in her time. A statue of Elizabeth's sis- ter Mary lies upon the tomb of the latter lady side by side with the statue of the Queen. We went aw^ay from Westminster Abbey w T ith the feeling that if we only knew all that had happened in, and in connection with, this noted sanctuary we would indeed be histor- ians to be proud of. But we were filled with the vague fear that even what we had gleaned that day, added to our previous study in this connection, would be crowded out of our minds by the many things which we were 21 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. planning to see before our journey should -be at an end. After exploring Westminster Abbey it seemed natural that our next visit should be to London's other great church, St. Paul's Cathedral. Of course, before we started, we knew the things which the guide book tells about the building, and which almost every- one knows whether he ever goes to London or not. Among these items of information were the following: that it is the third largest church in the world; that it was de- signed by Sir Christopher Wren; w T as begun in 1675 and completed in 1710; that it is in the form of a Latin cross surmounted by a large dome, admitted to be the most beauti- ful in the world. We also knew that there was a crypt down below, and a whisper- ing gallery above somewhere, besides other things which we had read about, but could not remember. We had heard that most tourists consider it dark and bare. But these details mean comparatively little until one has seen the real things for oneself. We found it quite true, as the guide book had said, that the cathedral is so hedged in by other buildings that it is 22 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. impossible to secure a satisfactory view of the exterior except from one or two points some distance away. Directly in front of the church is a large and handsome statue of Queen Anne, with England, France, Ireland and America at her feet. What impressed us most about this statue, which incidentally was very beautiful, was the spectacle of America at th^e feet of a queen. However, we easily consoled ourselves with the assurance that as long as America was not at the feet of Queen Anne or anybody else, the statue did not cut much figure. The exterior and even the beautiful dome are so discolored with age and weather as to be much less beautiful than they had been represented. The interior is very vast and imposing, although bare, as had been suggested. We soon recognized the fact that the military heroes of England were hon- ored at St. Paul's as were the literary heroes and statesmen at Westminster. The regular ten o'clock service began shortly after we entered the church, and in conformity with the numerous placards about the w T alls re- questing visitors not to move about at such times, we took our seats and listened. The atmosphere of the church was cool and quiet, 23 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. and the thick walls made the hum and bustle of the city seem a long way off. There were very few people there and the order of service was exactly similar to what we had listened to the day before. The organ is said to be one of the very finest in the world, but to our un- educated ears it sounded the same as other organs. As we sat in the worshipers' seats we had an excellent view of the magnificent windows which fill the entire end of the apse. We were seated directly under the great dome, and as we looked up we could get the full effect of its wonderful height. The dis- tance was so great that it was impossible to discern the nature of the decorations with which the interior was embellished, and I was impressed with a peculiar sense of little- ness and incapacity to appreciate the exterior "bigness." As we had been frankly informed that the statuary, with which the church was not crowded, was for the most part bad, we did not spend much time upon it in the tour of exploration which we took after the service was over. I remember the most distinctly a bronze figure of the Duke of Wellington. The hero was represented lying upon a lofty sar- cophagus, overshadowed by a rich marble 24 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. canopy. Above his recumbent figure are colossal groups of "Valor" and "Cowardice," "Truth" and "Falsehood." I found that the part of the church which interested me most was that about which I had heard the least, viz.: the crypt or basement. I think I was interested in this because what was shown there indicated a characteristic of the Eng- lish people which accounts for much of their history. I refer to the wonderful reverence with which they cherish the memories of their military heroes. We paid a liberal fee before being allowed to descend the well worn stone stairs into the large dark room which consti- tuted the crypt. Part of the room was used for a chapel and the center of it was cut off from the rest by a heavy iron railing. Visit- ors are only admitted to this sanctuary under the strictest supervision of a guide, who un- locks the gate when a sufficiently large num- ber of persons appear. And why should not this spot be jealously guarded? It contains the precious dust of England's pride and glory. Directly under the massive dome in a triple coffin, the outer one of which is of black marble, lies Lord Nelson, the hero of Trafalgar. To the left, in a chamber lighted 25 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. by four candelabra of polished granite, is the tomb of the Duke of Wellington. This is a hugh block of porphyry, resting upon a gran- ite base. Perhaps the most impressive, because the most unusual exhibit in this remarkable place, is the immense funeral car constructed after the death of the Duke upon which he was borne to his tomb. This is said to have been made from the guns captured in his vic- tories. It has dx wheels and was drawn by twelve coal black horses, six abreast. The vehicle is very high, and the coffin rested upon a high staging, and was covered with a black velvet cloth embroidered in gold. How can such tributes a*s these fail to place military achievements among the very first in the scale of virtues? The guide viewed each visitor with suspi- cion, and he looked at me as if he thought it was my intention in some mysterious way to seize the precious ashes and make away with them. I felt like telling him that I con- sidered it a sufficient honor just to be allowed to gaze upon the tombs of these great men, and that I should be very much embarrassed to know what to do with the sacred remains, 26 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. even if I had them in my possession. If I had ventured to express any sentiments of this kind I think I should have added that I came from America, where we had military heroes of our own, second neither to Nelson or Well- ington, great though these men were. I was thinking of that beautiful tomb at North Riverside, New York. And even in the pres- ence of all this greatness I found myself humming, "And Dewey feel discouraged? I do not think w T e do." There really does seem to be a deep seated fear lest some enemy of England shall steal away those honored bones. The whispering gallery, which we reached after climbing a number of steps, did not interest me as much as I had expected it would. The man who stays there to do the whispering for the visitors whispered for us the same speech which he has been whisper- ing to tourists for the last decade or more, and it sounded trite. The stone gallery a number of flights above commands a fine view of the city of London, but, as is usually the case, the city was so completely shrouded in mist that very little of it could be seen from the top of this most prominent building. 27 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTER IV. SOME THINGS IN THE MUSEUMS. ENGLAND'S HIS- TORIC PRISON, THE "TOWER." It seemed a very natural transition from the churches to the museums, and so our next visit after St. Paul's was to that marvelous collection which all the world has been taxed to supply and which is known all over the world, viz. : the "British Museum." It was somewhat of a rest to our overtaxed financial resources to find that admission to every part of the Museum was absolutely free, as it is owned and sustained by the British govern- ment. Perhaps it is not surprising that there is so much here of interest to the student of history and science when we remember that the collection has been going on for over a century, and it has had at its disposal not only the financial resources of England, but also that all-important factor of learned, discriminating and far-seeing persons to whom the collection has been intrusted. If I were asked to tell what is in the British Mu- 2.8 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. seum I should have to answer "everything." And, furthermore, the classification is so re- markably perfect that the casual visitor can carry away much more than could be ex- pected from so vast a variety of interesting objects. In many departments a different room is devoted to the collections from each different country, so that one can soon find out where his particular interest lies, and de- vote himself exclusively to that part. Then the articles in each room are divided into dif- ferent periods, which is an added assistance to the observer in avoiding the confusion of things which is more than likely to occur when the attempt is made to see many ob- jects in a short time. This arrangement is slightly varied in the "Ethnological Display," which for me was one of the most attractive in the entire building. A very long gallery contains this display, a portion of which is devoted to each nation. It seemed as if the whole world with all its progress and achieve- ments was spread out before me there. The exhibits were varied, in a perfect condition, and carefully labeled. After I had traversed the hall for a number of times, I had the feel- ing that I had not been confined within those 29 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. four walls all the morning, but had been wandering in ruder and wilder countries, as the different methods, the implements and so- cial customs were so perfectly reproduced here. I also found a great deal of pleasure in the inspection of the display of modern Chi- nese and Japanese decorated china. But the objects in the museum which I had most of all desired to see were the "Elgin Marbles." These famous works of art, as everyone knows, are the remains of the sculptures exe- cuted by Phidias to adorn the Parthenon at Athens, and are considered the finest speci- mens of plastic art in existence. They were brought from Athens by Lord Elgin in 1816, and sold to the British government for the sum of £35,000 ($175,000). I felt that I should like to be able to give enough study to the "marbles" to discover for myself what there was about them to excite and sustain the en- thusiasm of so many students of art through- out so many years. They are so badly defaced by time and weather that a casual glance did not reveal, to me at least, the beauty which others have found in them, But as occasion- ally a perfect hand or foot revealed itself, or a head poised upon a neck of marvelous beau- 30 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. ty appeared unimpaired, I felt that I could in a small measure distinguish the difference between them and the numerous copies of them which now flood the civilized world. I learned among other things that sculpture is one of the most difficult kinds of art to re- produce. It would almost seem unnecessary to go to Greece when so much of her finest art is in London. In the case of the Elgin Marbles, every effort has been made to give the observer as perfect and as clear an idea as possible of the way in which they origi- nally appeared. Many other interesting fea- tures of Athens have also been reproduced as nearly like the original as could be. There is a model of the Parthenon, both as it w T as in its prime and as it appears today. One other thing which I recall with distinctness and pleasure is the "Mausoleum Boom." Here is all that remains of the celebrated monu- ment once reckoned among the seven wonders of the world, which was erected by Artemisia, in honor of Mausolus, her husband, and King of ('aria. This king through the devotion of his wife has given us our word "mausoleum." Colossal fragments remain to testify to the devotion of Artemisia, such as a mam- 31 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. moth arm, hand or foot. Supremely interest- ing are the parts of horses and the chariot wheels, which make one think of giants and their huge belongings. We also visited London's other great "Curi- osity Shop," the South Kensington Museum, located in the western portion of the city. The collection here is not so large as at the other museum, and for that reason there is more pleasure in visiting it (although it is not so well classified). The objects seemed to me to be more artistic and not so dingy with age. There were copies of the world's greatest pieces of statuary, which, as we had not up to that time seen the originals, we en- joyed to the full. The art treasures of Italy, especially, find reproduction here. There were many other interesting collections of note in London, but as by this time we were beginning to feel that if we were going to see anything more we must have another story put on the top of our heads, we desisted from visiting them. Seeing so many things in suc- cession gives one the feeling of having eaten too much dinner, and a change of occupation becomes imperative. Having decided to indulge this feeling, we considered ourselves fortunate in being able 32 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. to secure seats at the Lyceum Theater, where Irving and Terry were nearing the end of their season in the play of "Robespierre." This play is always remarkable, but abso- lute^ marvelous as interpreted by these great artists. The scenery, the setting and the support were good, but it was Henry Irv- ing who made the play what it was for us that night, What/ we were seeing did not seem like acting at all, but we seemed to be getting glimpses into the real historical scenes of that horrible time, made infinitely more horrible by the personality of the hero. The only hard part about it was the waiting between the acts and the falling of the curtain upon the last scene. As we joined the throng which was hastening out into the crowded streets of London we were so excited by all that Ave had seen and heard that we were quite unable to tell which direction we must take to get to the now familiar "Russell Square, " where we must lodge that night. The scenes which we visited the following morning were hardly fitted to dispel the pain- ful emotions which had been aroused by liv- ing over the French Revolution as interpreted by Henry Irving, for it was at that time that 33 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. we had planned to go to England's historic prison. London Tower! Who that has ever stepped within its gloomy walls can think of it without a shudder! There is no part of London about which one hears more discus- sion than the "Tower." It is called historic- ally the most interesting spot in England, and some tourists even go so far as to declare that if they could only see one thing in the whole of London, that one thing should be the Tower. Haying, therefore, had my antici- pations so fully aroused and having looked forward to the visit to the Tower as one of the most enjoyable parts of our sight seeing, I was hardly prepared for the chill which came over me when I actually found myself within those historic walls. Of course I knew that it had been for many years the state prison of England, and that many most horrible things had taken place within its walls. But I could not realize that the very atmosphere of death and torture could still hang so heavily over a place from which these things had been for so many years removed. A modern wall surrounds the entire ancient structure, at the corners of which are placed ticket offices. The usual fee of a sixpence is omit- 34 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. ted upon two days of the week, but even upon these days the visitor must secure his ticket at the office before being admitted. A pecu- liar little experience occurred here. Accord- ing to the usual custom of women, each mem- ber of the gentle sex who sought admission carried in her hand some kind of a bag or satchel. The keeper demands that every one of these articles, no matter how small or in- significant, shall be surrendered to him be- fore their respective owners shall pass the gates. It is exceedingly embarrassing in many cases, as the women often carry in these bags their purses, handkerchiefs, note books and other articles which they would prefer to keep about them. Eemonstrances availed nothing, however, and the women were kept busy extracting those things which they were unwilling to commit to the care of the gate- keeper. No one appeared upon the scene to explain the reason of this inconvenient cus- tom — they do not explain things in England — and after puzzling over it for some time I came to the conclusion that the authorities were afraid that these women visitors (there were very few men going in) were carrying pack- ages of dynamite in their bags with which to 35 # THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. blow open the treasure safes contained with- in the walls, or perhaps some dangerous weapon with which to overpower the keepers of the precious relics. However, I at last gained admittance, minus my bag, but retain- ing my note book and pencil. This note book and pencil were regarded with suspicion by the authorities of several different countries which we visited on our journey, and after- wards r learned from a friend who had had an unpleasant experience that I might have been arrested upon the charge of being a mili- tary spy securing information for the benefit of some foreign enemy. The first thingwhich attracted myattention after having completed the experience just described, was the great wide moat which sur- rounded the regular fortress w r all. This was crossed by a stone bridge. It was when I passed through the opening at the end of this bridge that I felt the chill of horror descend upon me. I found myself in a little city of dark, tall and gloomy towers, and I could realize the hopelessness which must have filled the hearts of those who were taken there under authority in the days when its bloody history was being made. It certainly 36 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. did not seem like an easy place to get out or. Out of the group of thirteen towers there are only three to which the ordinary visitor is ad- mitted. The most important of these is known as the "White Tower." They say there was a period in its history when it was white, though one can hardly believe it from looking at it now. Many of the dreadful things con- nected with the tower happened here. It was in this place that the two young princes were murdered by their uncle, Richard III. The old armor which fills some of the rooms is interesting from the historical stand- point, as it is so arranged as to show the de- velopment of methods of attack and protec- tion in warfare. But it was all so suggestive of the cruelties and horrors of those days that I felt very much relieved when I had finished the inspection of it, which I felt it my duty to make. Beauchamp Tower is a short distance from the White Tower. It was here that so many famous persons were imprisoned, and you are still shown the cells, upon the walls of which are traced the names of their former royal occupants. Narrow dark passage ways con- nect the different rooms, and it is often neces- 37 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. sary to stoop in order to pass through them. If you happen to meet a person coming in the other direction one of you will have to turn around and go out again, as it is impos- sible for two people to pass each other. This is the place where the royal prisoners were kept while aw r aiting the time of their execu- lion upon the scaffold which stood just in front of it. This "site of the scaffold" was the most disagreeable spot to me within the en- tire enclosure. An iron chain surrounds a small quadrangle paved with brick. A flat stone occupies the center of the quadrangle which bears the names of those who have been executed upon the spot. The names of Anna. Boleyn, Catherine Howard and Lady Jane Gray are among the number. I was thankful to be out in the open air again, where I could think of other and more congenial subjects. The one bright spot in the whole place is the Wakefield Tower, where the most valuable of the crown jewels are kept. Here, under a glass case protected by a strong iron cage, are crowns, coronets, staffs, sceptres, crosses and regal diadems of every description. I looked with delight upon "Queen Victoria's 38 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. Grown/' made in 1838. It is said to contain 2,783 diamonds and 310 other gems. While this expensive badge of royalty was probably suited to the tastes of Victoria in her younger days, it is now many years since the good queen has put it on. Within the walls of the "Tower" very many noted people are buried, for the most part, those who were confined and beheaded there. The list of England's notables who have suffered confinement in the Tower for a longer or shorter period con- tains many names which w T ill always figure prominently upon the pages of history. 39 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTER V. QUEEN VICTORIA AND WINDSOR CASTLE. HAMPTON COURT. It is always interesting to come as near to the every day homes and haunts of royalty as possible. This is especially the case with regard to England's beloved sovereign, Queen Victoria. Nothing could have been more gratifying and agreeable than to turn from London Tower, which represents so much that is horrible in the history of the past, to Windsor Castle, the home of Queen Victoria, who represents in her own personality so much of what is best in the civilization of the present. Windsor Castle is situated in the little town of Windsor, twenty-five miles from London. Although the place has been of his- torical importance ever since the time of Wil- liam the Conqueror (probably on account of its fine location as a military fortress), it has been continually remodeled and brought down to date, so that it now stands as a most interesting type of the modern English castle. 40 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. Within this structure, closely guarded by high walls and ever watchful attendants, in apartments especially fitted up for her com- fort and convenience, Queen Victoria is liv- ing out these last years w^hich all of her sub- jects fully realize must now be few. Mem- bers of her immediate family make their home there, and the tiny kings and queens of the future, either of England or of some other country, play about the halls and walks and peep out of the windows. It is quite impos- sible for anyone who has not visited England to realize the love and esteem which are felt by the. people of England for "Her Majesty,'' so small in stature, but so important in the history of the world. There are many evi- dences that the Queen wishes to leave her people beloved and respected by them. When w r e remember how anxious she was to have her reign close with a state of peace existing throughout all of the countries over which she rules, we must grieve on account of the hostilities which have recently come about, and which bid fair to continue for some time to come. One of the evidences of Queen Vic- toria's good will to her people is the recent opening to the public of Kensington Palace, 41 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. where she was born and brought up and where she received the news of the death of William IV., by which event she became Queen of England. At the present time, any one who wishes may wander through the many apartments of Kensington, which are all carefully labeled, and which contain many souvenirs of the childhood of the queen. Among other things are the dolls and toys with which the royal baby was wont to amuse herself. A very pretty story was told to me while making the rounds of these places, con- nected with the early life of Queen Victoria, by one of her most devoted subjects. From the time that Victoria was a very young child her mother believed that she was to be the future Queen of England, and educated her with this in view. The story goes that one day Victoria, who was studying history, asked her governess who was to be the sov- ereign of England after the death of William IV. The governess handed her a history and told her to study out for herself the answer to the question. After searching carefully for some time, the child exclaimed: "Why, I shall be Queen of England after William." From that time on her education was a dis- 42 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. tinct preparation for her future career, which developed for her as was anticipated. But to return to Windsor Castle from this digression which has been made to things suggested by it. The train which one must take to reach the Castle runs very near to "Stokes Poges," the churchyard of which is the scene of Gray's famous "Elegy," and which now contains ^ this poet's grave. Before reaching Windsor the train crosses the Thames, passing Eton Col- lege on the right. Upon reaching Windsor, we went at once to the Castle, where we easily gained admittance. Within the walls there are all kinds of interesting things, such as chapels, gardens and monuments. I knocked at the door of one of the little cottages, many of which line the lower side of the grounds, and asked for a drink of water, as the day was hot and we had been walking a long way. I learned from the neat maid in a white cap who brought, me the water that I was upon the threshold of the house occupied by the Vicar of St. George's Chapel. This chapel is a most interesting and ancient part of the buildings connected with the Castle. As it was Sunday, we ventured to enter the Chapel 43 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. at the close of the morning service, but, to our surprise and disgust, were peremptorily hustled out by a clerical looking person in a black gown, who did not take the pains to be barely polite while he informed us that no- body was admitted except to attend the regu- lar services. When an Englishman sets out to be rude, he can certainly accomplish his purpose in the most convincing manner pos- sible*. Those portions of the castle in which the Queen lives are of course only open to visitors when she is away. As we approached the iron fence which marked the limit of our advance, we asked the red coated guard who was marching back and forth with a gun on his shoulder if there would be any opportu- nity for us to see the Queen. "If yon will stand right here for about ten minutes you will see her coming home from church in her car- riage," said he. "She is attending church at her private chapel at Frogmore, and it is nearly time for her to be coming home." We felt that this was probably the nearest we would ever get to this royal personage, and so decided to w^ait, and in a few minutes the carriage passed. It was a plain open vehicle, containing, so far as we could see, no person 44 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. except the Queen and her coachman. We were thankful for the passing glimpse which we were able to obtain of "Her Majesty." We were about to return to the station to take the train back to London again when a chub- by, red faced fellow headed us off because we were going to walk down a prohibited lane. We explained ourselves by telling him where we were going, and he asked us if we. were not going to stay- for the music in the afternoon. Then we learned for the first time that the beautiful terraced gardens of the Queen, upon which her private apartments face, were thrown open to the public on every Sunday afternoon at four o'clock, and that music was furnished alternately by two bands. We again decided to take advantage of this unexpected opportunity, and four o'clock found us crowding up against the gates with the rest of the throng which had assembled there. The gardens were beauti- ful, and the music was fine, and we caught a glimpse of the Queen herself as she was wheeled past the window by her attendant, as she is now so infirm as to be entirely un- able to walk alone. But there were no seats provided, and the fiercest of fierce policemen 45 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. were everywhere to prevent the weary sub- jects of the Queen from resting themselves either upon the low walls or upon the steps. So that we grew exceedingly tired as we stood there with the burning sun pouring down upon our heads, and were thankful when finally the concert closed w T ith the rendering of "God Save the Queen" (to which we men- tally supplied the words "My Country ? Tis of Thee"), and the people departed, not quickly enough, however, to suit the wishes of the fierce policemen, who were evidently tired of the task of trying to make the sturdy British- ers "keep off the grass." Another of the Queen's palaces which is open to the public is "Hampton Court." We might have overlooked this spot, even loaded as it is with historic in- terest, had not our attention been espe- cially called to it. Hampton Court is sit- uated about fifteen miles from London, and is the largest of the Queen's royal palaces. It contains 1,000 rooms, many of which are occupied by aristocratic pensioners of the crown. But many of the rooms and all of the grounds are open to the public, and many things of great interest are upon exhibition 46 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. there. It is chiefly interesting because it was built by Cardinal Wolsey and presented by him to his majesty King Henry VIII., who made it his residence for a number of years. It was afterwards occupied, by Cromwell, the Stuarts and William II., whose fatal fall from his horse occurred in the park here. The conference betw r een the Puritans and the Episcopalians under James I. took place here. One small room at the end of an immense reception hall is pointed out as the "watch chamber of Henry VIII." The long, narrow windows command an immense extent of ter- ritory, and as the transient visitor lingers upon the spot he can easily imagine the old king spending many an anxious hour peering through those same windows, which remain intact for so many years after he with all his power and all his weakness has passed from the stage of life. The palace is of red brick, and the rooms, as in other places, are con- veniently labeled, so that it is possible to obtain a very good idea of the place in a short time. An interesting object to me was the "Astronomical Clock," which was made for Henry VIII. and has recently been repaired and set going. It contains the signs of the 47 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. zodiac and many other things pertaining to the skies. But the glory of Hampton Court is the garden. I have heard of grass which looks like velvet, and trees with wide spread- ing branches, and -flowers that nod and beckon to one in the sunshine, and other things of a similar nature. But I found that I had little conception of how beautiful nature could be, when assisted by art, until I came to spend that morning hour in the garden of Hampton Court. Further than this, I can only say that if Hampton Court could always look as it did upon that day, and if my feelings could al- ways be as responsive to its beauties as they were at that time, and if I could be there all the time, I should not want to leave this earth, even to enter into the pictured joys of heaven. Then there is the famous "laby- rinth," which, if you consult the guide book faithfully, you may thread with little diffi- culty. And, again, there is the "grape vine." I speak of this vine, although I do not expect that anyone who has not been there will be- lieve what I say about it. I am sure it would be difficult for me to credit the facts upon the testimony of another person. The vine is said to have been planted in the year 1768, and is 48 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. of the Black Hamburgh variety. The stem is 38 inches in circumference (as large as the trunk of a good sized shade tree), and the branches spread over an area of 2,200 square feet. Its yield is 1,200 or 1,300 bunches of grapes each year. It spreads out in a sort of canopy over one's head, and there is a shed built over it with & glass roof. As you turn your eyes tipward the great clusters hang down with the regularity of artificial frescoes, or wall decorations, and have the appear- ance of artificial wax grapes. But, in spite of my natural incredulity, I was convinced that the grapes were real, and went on my way wondering. After leaving Hampton Court I walked to the village of Teddington, a distance of one mile, through the famous deer park, down the avenue of old chestnut trees planted by William III. I found it convenient and pleas- ant, as do most travelers, to complete the day's excursion by a visit to the famous "Kew Gardens," which, I believe, are the largest and most elaborate of which London boasts. These "Gardens" consist of acres upon acres of rolling wooded ground, so extensive that one loses oneself repeatedly as he wanders 49 The story of a European tour. back and forth among the various places of interest. There are hot houses filled with rare and beautiful specimens, artificial ponds where children were feeding swans, and buildings containing uriusual plants and trees from different countries. After explor- ing until I was weary, I sat down under one of the beautiful trees to rest and wait until it was time to take the train, which in a few minutes brought me to "Victoria Station," the center of the spider web of 'bus lines which holds all London in its grasp. I had taken this day's excursion quite alone, and it is much easier to tell about the things 1 saw^ than it is to describe the various sensa- tions which I experienced during the long tramp through places and scenes entirely strange and unknown. Every one admits that it is the mental experiences which count for the most in a trip of this kind. 50 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTER VI. . THE WOMEN'S CLUBS OF LONDON. A WOMAN IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. There was one "phase of London life in which I was very much interested, and about which I found very little in the guide books. The object of my desire was to obtain a glimpse into the life of the Women's Clubs of the great metropolis. My previous knowl- edge of these institutions was such as to con- vince me that they were sufficiently private in their nature to make it impossible for a stranger to even look through the buildings without the co-operation of a resident mem- ber. But it had transpired that one of Lon- don's brightest literary and club ladies hav- ing relatives in my own home town in America had spent a season there. It had been my good fortune to secure her as a friend. I had thought of her many times during the busy days of our life in London, and I was very happy indeed when, upon repairing to her home in South Kensington, I found that 51 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. she was at home. After the greetings had been exchanged, and I had answered as best I eonld the many eager questions which she put to me i# regard to her friends and ac- quaintances in America, I told her of my wish to visit in person some of the Women's Clubs of London. She entered into my plans at once, and in a few minutes had made out a tour for the day. While in some respects the Women's Clubs of London correspond to the* Women's Clubs in the United States (especially to those in our larger cities, which represent the state and national federation of clubs), still they differ widely and in many important respects. There is a large number of them in the city, but their origin is of comparatively recent date. Their growth and influence has been phenomenal considering this latter fact. They do not seem to have come into existence as have so many of the clubs in this country, through the desire on the part of a circle of women to get together and study for the pur- poses of self culture. I found upon investiga- tion that many of them, especially among those which were organized first, were founded, supported and endowed by some 52 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. lad j of title or means with a distinctively philanthropic purpose. One has to be in London but a very short time to realize the need of philanthropic work there. This is especially the case among the women. It can readily be seen how naturally the time and talents of the leisure class of women lend themselves to this kind of work. Any insti- tution for which there is a manifest need will grow and repeat itself, as these London Women's Clubs have done. The philan- thropic idea has been developed in different directions. The educational feature is be- coming prominent in some, while a few very large and flourishing clubs are purely social in their aims. I am interested in these clubs because they have opened up a wide field of usefulness for the activities of women. Use- ful activity always indicates development along the best lines. Then again, the worn-' en's club movement is a movement which has promise for the future. X rejoice to think that the future offers to women a larger place for usefulness at first hand than the past has done. I rejoice to know that English women are showing themselves more than ready to take advantage of all the opportunities which 53 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. offer, of making themselves a power for good in the world. All of the prominent clubs have permanent homes of their own. These are fitted up comfortably, and some of them elegantly. We only had time to visit three of the club houses. But my hostess had taken pains that these three should be as different as possible, and also typical of a large num- ber of others. We first went to the "Gros- venor Orescent Club," which is typical for two reasons. First, gentlemen are not admitted as members (as they are in some of the clubs), and second, there is in connection with it a "Woman's Institute." This latter institution corresponds to a business college for girls. Any young woman by complying with certain almost nominal financial conditions may re- ceive instruction in what they call there "sec- retarial work." This means not only type- writing, bookkeeping, shorthand and so forth, but in the other duties which are required of the secretary to a member of parliament or general business man. The ability to carry on original research is highly prized in this connection, and is made a special feature of the "Institute." A women's bureau is also maintained in connection with this club, and 54 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. situations are almost invariably secured for those who have satisfactorily completed the course. The club has a fine suite of drawing rooms, members' rooms, game rooms, dining rooms and bed rooms. This makes it what is known as "residential." Meals of all kinds are served to members, and the rooms are also at their disposal for private parties, 'afternoon teas and so forth. From time to time, debates, literary discussions and musical entertain- ments are given in the rooms, although not as much attention seems to be given to that kind of thing here as in some of the other clubs. The bed rooms which have been mentioned are at the disposal of the members, for a mod- erate price. From the "Grosvenor Crescent" we went to the "Pioneer." Here we found fine appart- ments as before, with the addition of a "smok- ing room." "Is this for the gentlemen friends of the members?" I inquired. "Oh, no," replied our hostess. "It is for the use of the members themselves." I peered anxiously into the interior of this room, wondering what would be my sensa- tion upon seeing one of my own sex "using 55 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. the weed." But I was destined to disappoint- ment in this ease for the room was empty, and only the heavy odor of tobacco which hung about the place convinced me that I had not misunderstood. In answer to the question as to whether the room was largely patronized by ladies, I learned that it was not. The strong point of this club is its ex- cellent literary program. The program for the current and coming seasons, which were kindly furnished to me by the secretary, Lady Hamilton, were replete with the most weighty subjects of interest in the literary, scientific and political world. This club -is also residential and has been in existence since 1892. The last club to be visited was the "Sesame League." The rooms of this organization were more elaborate than those of the other clubs, as the social feature is more prominent. The main idea of the club is educational. One department is known as "Home Life Train- ing." This means the training of young girls for domestic duties and the care of children. Everything which is new and progressive in these lines has been introduced. Kindergar- ten and primary teachers are admitted for 56 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. a small fraction of what is expected of other applicants. Gentlemen are admitted as mem- bers. There are extended and elaborate courses in a variety of lines. Lady Henry Somerset is one of the trustees of the Gros- venor Crescent Club, the Countess of Aber- deen is a. patron of the Pioneer, and many prominent and cultured English ladies work in the Sesame. The club house of the latter is on the same plan as that of the two former organizations. This day among the women's clubs was v^ery near the end of our allotted time in Lon- don, and still there were many things which we wanted to see, in fact, many things which Ave felt that we must see. Among these was the interior of the Houses of Parliament. It developed in the course of our inquiries that it is a comparatively easy thing for a man to secure a seat in the gallery of the House of Commons during the deliberations of this august body. Not so in the case of a woman. There is a good deal of maneuvering to be gone through with and even then failure is apt to be the result, as was the case with me. We had no friends who were members of the House, but we carried a letter to the Hon. 57 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. 9 the American ambassador to Eng- land, from one of our own senators and a per- sonal friend of the ambassador. But it seemed that American ambassadors are about as hard to find as a woman's pocket, and per- sonal friendship does not count for much when the ocean rolls between the .parties to it. So in spite of a good deal of time spent, involving a number of trips back and forth to the house of the ambassador, when we ap- proached the House of Commons my husband was admitted by the watchful policeman who guarded the door, but I was not. I accepted the situation with as good grace as I could command, reflecting that there were other places besides London where the opportuni- ties of persons were abridged on account of sex. I spent the time in strolling through the long vestibule. (I had not been refused the vestibule.) This portion of the building was adorned with the statues of England's former statesmen. I was pleased to reflect that I, even though a woman, was allowed to gaze upon the marble forms of dead heroes, though denied the privilege of a peep at the heads of living ones. Later we learned that both Houses of Parliament were thrown open to 58 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. the public on every Saturday afternoon, and having decided that if you cannot get what you want it is best to take what you can get, we joined the throng the following Saturday and were hurried along Avith the rest of the people through the historic halls. We saw the Queen's robing room and the royal gallery through which she passes when opening or proroguing parliament. Also the "House of Peers," at one end of which under a richly decorated canopy is the magnificent throne of the Queen. The fur- niture in this latter room is covered with red leather, and all of the furnishings are exceed- ingly elegant. The "House of Commons" is simpler and more business like. The finish- ings here are of oak. Throughout the entire building there are to be seen a large number of interesting works of art, such as wood carving, paintings, tapestry and so forth. 59 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTEK VII. THE PICTURE GALLERIES. MISCELLANEOUS OBJECTS OP INTEREST. Any enumeration of the interesting things to be seen in London would be quite incom- plete which left out the picture galleries. And yet, my experience was that the galleries were among the very hardest things to man- age, in a way that was at all satisfactory, of all the many things which were seen during the trip. This was in spite of the fact that the pictures were more beautiful than I could possibly have anticipated, and that art is ca- pable of giving more real pleasure than al- most anything in the world. One reason why it is so hard for even a lover of art to enjoy to the fullest extent the magnificent art galleries in foreign countries, is that there is never enough time allowed in which to visit and study them. It is not enough simply to look at a picture and then pass on, as you can do with so many things. And it is almost a waste of time just to walk 60 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. through room after room lined with the most beautiful pictures, even though you do jerk your head from side to side and look up and down in the most industrious manner pos- sible. When you come out you will only have a confused aching consciousness of colors, in which are floating about in helpless confusion faces, trees, sky, water, ships, angels, madon- nas, flowers and animals of all kinds. Another drawback to the full enjoyment of pictures in the regular galleries is that you see so many pictures in other places. If one could save all the ability he has for enjoying pictures until he visited the actual picture galleries, it would be much easier to appreciate and enjoy their contents. But as it is now, there are pictures, pictures, pictures everywhere. The castles, the palaces, the Parliament Houses, the churchesand the museumseach have their individual collections, which the visitor feels it his duty to inspect. So that when one comes to really give time to the study of pictures and nothing else, he is more than apt to bring with him a mind already tired out with the contemplation of them. Then, again, I think everyone admits that there is something pe- culiarly trying about the inspection of pic- 61 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. tures. It seems to draw upon so many facul- ties at one time. (Of course, I refer to the or- dinarily intelligent traveler, not to the experi- enced critic or artist.) The eyes must see, the mind must grasp, the memory must be at a high point of activity, and the reasoning pow- ers must also be brought into use. Then pic- tures, although they are so- different, are also very much alike, and there* is very little use in looking at them unless you are able to ex- ercise some power of discrimination. Then, again, in order to get much out of pictures, one should have a very large fund of knowledge in regard to them before starting in. It w T as somewhat in ignorance of all these conditions that I started bravely upon an in- spection of London's most important collec- tion of pictures, "The National Gallery." The building stands upon the north terrace of Trafalgar Square. This is the spot where stood the original gallery, which started with thirty-eight pictures in the year 1834. The collection now consists of 1,500 pictures, which are exhibited in twenty-two rooms. The building itself is very fine, and one can- not fail to be impressed with the very atmos- phere of art and artists which pervades every 62 the story op a European tour. part of it. I found later that I could remem- ber comparative]}' few of the pictures in de- tail out of the many which I saw T and enjoyed. The "Turner Room" was interesting and easy to remember, because there was one entire apartment devoted to the pictures of this one artist, who is called the greatest of English landscape painters. It seemed to me that there was a great difference in the excellence of the pictures of this artist. I especially failed to appreciate those in which the colors are so blended together as to make the put- line and the impression indefinite, although I know there is a class of art lovers who are very devoted to this style of pictures. The picture entitled "A Frosty Morning" has held its place in my mind and given me more pleas- ure than any other one in the "Turner Room." It was in the Umbrian room of the National Gallery that we had our first introduction to the beautiful madonnas of Raphael. While his best work is not found here, we discovered four beautiful originals, an inspection of which was enough to impress us with the difference between this gifted artist and all others. Two of the pictures of this great mas- ter contained madonnas, and we were able to 63 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. appreciate that soft, delicate, yet strong ex- pression, which no other artist seems to have portrayed as Kapha el has done. The "Ma- donna degli Ansidei," by the latter artist, was bought from the Duke of Marlborough in the year 1884 for £70,000 ($350,000), said to be the largest sum ever given for a picture. It is also said to be the most import- ant example of Raphael in England. "St. Catherine of Alexandria" is a smaller picture, but very beautiful. We found so many land- scapes by Gainsborough that we became fa- miliar enough with them to recognize them elsewhere. Among the other noted artists whose works go to make up the reputation of the National Gallery are Benjamin West, Taddeo Gaddi, Andrea Arcagna, Fra Filippo Lippi, Leonardo da Vinci and many others of similar worth. As we could not visit all of the fine collections of pictures, w T e selected from the many other excellent ones the "Tate Gallery." This gallery receives its name from Sir Henry Tate, who erected it and presented it to the nation along with a collection of six- ty-five paintings. I was extremely interested in the collection of pictures in the Tate Gal- lery (also called the National Gallery of Brit- 64 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. ish Art), because it contained the works of the modern British artists, many of whom are living, and who have secured their start upon the road to fame through having their pic- tures accepted by the committee of the Eoyal Academy. These pictures bring us very near to the living, struggling artists of today, Hundreds of pictures are presented every year to the committee of the Eoyal Academy, and possibly a score accepted. Sir John Millais, Sir Edwin Landseer and, G. F. Watts are among the modern painters of note who are represented in the Tate Gal- lery. The picture called "Hope" by the last named artist, representing a female figure holding a harp with a single string, is one of the finest in the room which is devoted to his works. Upon leaving this gallery, shortly after noon I found myself in the vicinity of the suburban railway station, where a train may be taken for Sydenham, the location of the fa- mous Crystal Palace of London. Getting aboard a car, I soon found myself at this in- teresting suburb. Although the Palace is not an art gallery, it abounds in art and the suggestions of art, and so may properly be mentioned here. The palace is 65 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. large and elaborate, and from a distance very effective. The grounds about it are large and laid out with flower beds, fountains, cricket and tennis grounds, and other things suited to attract and amuse the public generally. But a nearer inspection of the building dis- closes so large a proportion of iron and wood in its makeup (in spite of the printed declara- tion that it is entirely of glass) that it seems common, and upon the whole disappointing. The interior of the building reminded me of the corn palaces, hay and grain palaces which are so popular in some of our western cities, only of course this was upon a much larger and more pretentious scale. There was a large amount of beautiful statuary (copies of both ancient and modern masterpieces), and quite an elaborate zoological display. In ad- dition to these, there were exhibits of manu- factured articles of many kinds. A large band played daily at a certain hour. The immense gallery is lined with booths where all kinds of trinkets may be pur- chased. Most of these booths are kept by women, and I remember that one forlorn female appealed to me in plaintive tones to buy something of her. During the few mo- 66 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. ments that I hesitated before her stall, she treated me to a dismal account of her troubles, closing, as I was passing on, with the wail, "Other folks can sell things, I don't see why I can't." But our days in London were drawing to a close, and although I was perfectly conscious that I had already seen much more than I could possibly remember, I also began to re- alize how many were going to be left unseen. I knew that the things which I did not see would be the first which my friends would inquire about when I reached home, and their importance would be magnified each time I was obliged to reply that I had not seen them. Then there are always the little "incidents and impressions" which it is impossible to describe, and, as every one knows, make up so large a part of the pleasure of a trip. Among the miscellaneous objects of interest which do not seem to classify themselves, and yet which I would not have missed seeing for anything, I remember "London Bridge." I remember hearing of this feature of the great city when I was very young, and we used to play a game called "London Bridge Is Falling Down." But this structure of such wide rep- 67 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. utation seems to have no intention of falling down at the present time, but appeared to be very solid and substantial as we viewed it from day to day from the top of the 'bus while riding over or past it. All there is to it may easily be seen in a few seconds, and yet no one would like to miss seeing it. The Thames itself is always in the foreground, as it threads so populous a portion of the city and is of historic interest, but in itself it is narrow and homely. "Cleopatra's Needle," the Egyptian obelisk, which rises conspicuously upon the right bank of the Thames, is most interesting. It is one of a pair brought from Alexandria, the companion of which stands in Central Park, New York. It is reddish granite, sixty-eight feet in height, and contains numerous inter- esting inscriptions. "Regent's Park" is a beautiful place, well to the north of the city. One of its most interesting features is the zoo- logical collection, probably one of the finest in the world. I saw a monstrous elephant taking a bath in a huge tank. The dozens of monkeys jumping about in their cages fairly haunted me because their faces looked so hu- man. The Russian wolves, walking round and 68 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. round their great stone cages with unceasing restlessness, made one shudder to think what it might be to be at their mercy. There was the most magnificent specimen of a lion that I ever saw. There were camels which paraded up and down the shady avenue with happy children upon their backs. Then there w r ere birds and birds and birds. A few hours spent here made me feel as if I had seen the whole animal creation, at least if there are an}^ more I cannot imagine what they would look like. 69 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTER VIII. HYDE PARK. WHITE CHAPEL. ACROSS THE CHANNEL. Then there is Hyde Park. A visit to the famous "Albert Memorial" is usually made at the same time, when one goes to this beau- iful spot, as they are very near together. A large figure of the good "Prince Consort" sits under an immense golden canopy. Upon the lower part of the pedestal are sculptured in relief the figures of famous poets, painters, architects, sculptors and musicians. The canopy terminates at the top by a gothic spire surmounted by a cross. This monument was erected by the English nation at a cost of £120,000 (|600,000). On a certain bright afternoon we enjoyed the pleasure of a walk along "Rotten Row," that portion of Hyde Park which is frequented by Mayfair (the fashionable portion of London society), be- tween the hours of five and seven in the after- noon. I had thought that Fifth Avenue, New York presented as brilliant a scene in this line as it was possible to behold, but Fifth 70 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. Avenue is only a mild suggestion of Hyde Park. There is one constant glitter of elegant equipages, drawn by horses in the most gaudy trappings, driven by coachmen in the most elaborate attire, and attended by powdered lackeys. The carriages were mostly occupied by elegantly dressed women, though once in a while the sober garb of a gentleman might be seen. Nothing but private equipages are admit- ted to the park at this time of the day. The return to Russell Square through Picca- dilly was interesting. The progress of the ? bus upon which we were riding was slow, and we had plenty of time to enjoy the scene to the fullest extent. We seemed to be in an ocean of 'buses. As far as the eye could reach they were packed to- gether like blocks in a box. This was especi- ally the case in the neighborhood of Picca- dilly Circus. Before going abroad the word "circus" had always been associated in my mind with a large tent, a brass band, a street parade and similar para- phernalia. But there are any number of things which they do not call by their right names in England, so it is not sur- 71 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. prising that with the people there a "circus" is simply a "circle" where a certain number of streets come to an end. "Oheapside" is a long and interesting street filled with retail stores. I suppose it is called "Cheapside" because everything for sale there is more expensive than in other localities. "Trafalgar Square" is one of the places which one does not for- get. It is a large space set in one of the busiest portions of the city and dedicated to Lord Nelson, the hero of Trafalgar. A large granite column, surmounted by the figure of Nelson, rises in the center, about the base of which are sculptured representations of scenes from his famous battles. A number of large lions designed by Landseer are repre- sented as guarding the base. Beautiful foun- tains play in the Square upon pleasant after- noons, and women come out with their sew- ing and their little children and sit on the benches. Smaller statues of other heroes abound. One evening we spent in a visit to the "White Chapel" region, that locality where you are advised not to get down from the 'bus if you do not want to have your pockets picked and suffer other unpleasant experi- 72 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. ences. We passed through streets crowded with people laughing and shouting in front of brilliantly lighted booths. From our posi- tion of safety we could not but remark that the people of White Chapel were having the best time of anyone in London. We hoped that much of it was innocent even though it was noisy. Oxford street, and its continua- tion, Holborn street, are both interesting; that is, after one has learned that in order to be directed thither by either policeman or ? bus driver you must ask for "Hoxfud" and "Obun." If you ask for them as you would in America, you will be told that there are no such streets in London. The peculiar custom of changing the name of a street every few blocks, together with the irregularity of the streets, is one thing which makes it hard for a stranger to get about in London. But you never forget localities when you have onc£ learned them. There was one thing which I did not see in London, although I looked for it constantly. That was a public school. While I understand that interest in public education is growing in England, the conditions in this regard differ widely from those in this country. While we admit that we have no palaces or princes in 73 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. our home country, we may rightfully cherish a feeling of pride when we think of our school houses and all that they represent. Well ! By the time we had seen all of the things which have been mentioned we were "good and ready" to leave London. We went by way of Harwich and Antwerp, taking the water journey in the night. But it was a most delightful experience, for it was a glori- ous moonlight night, and we stayed out on the deck until it was very late. Why is it that one always thinks of home on a moon- light night? I remember that my thoughts flew back to my home on the western prairies, and to the little city on the river bank where the people must just be getting up. It seemed an unusually long way off, as it always did when I was suffering from a touch of homesickness. The boat landed at Ant- werp, and after having our valises rummaged 74 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. by those military looking personages in stiff caps, we went ashore. We did not stop at Antwerp in spite of our desire to see Buben's masterpiece, "The Descent, from the Cross " which we knew to be hanging in the cathe- dral there, but went directly to Brussels. Brussels is a beautiful city. It has clean, wide streets and attractive shops, in which are displayed the beautiful laces made theiv and offered at what seemed to us merely nom- inal prices. It was here that the tussel with the "unknown tongues" began. We had thought we knew a little German and French, and we soon found out how painfully little it was. I remember that I used to say that I would never go abroad until I had acquainted myself with the language of the countries where I intended to travel. But alas! I did. The people are all very polite, even though you cannot understand much of what they are trying to say to you. One can always tell whether he is being treated civilly or unciv- illy no matter w T hat language is being used in the process. We enjoyed the beautiful ca- thedral, which served as a most delightful change from the heat of the street where we had been walking. (There did come a time in 75 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. ' our travels when we omitted the cathedrals from our list of sights, but at that time we were still young in many things, and we felt it our duty to see everything which was down in the guide book). We visited the Koyal Pal- ace, and a museum or two, but were most im- pressed by the building known as the "Palais de Justice." It corresponds to what would be a court house with us, but was interesting on account of its great size. It is claimed that it is the very largest building in .the world. It was hard to realize that one building could cover so much ground. It is of comparatively modern date. In the afternoon we took the train for Braine PAlleud, a little town where a car- riage may be taken to the scene of the famous battle of Waterloo. During the short drive from the station to the actual scene of the battle the loquacious driver had a great many things to tell us. A number of these we took with a grain of allowance. The center of the battle field is marked by an immense mound surmounted by a gigantic lion made of iron. This is known as the "Lion's Mound," and from the top of it, which may be reached by a good hard climb up a long flight of stairs, 76 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. a fine view of the surrounding country is ob- tained. The famous trench into which the sol- diers of Napoleon fell with such disastrous results disappeared entirely in the process of building the mound. The mound was built by the Belgian and Dutch governments. in honor of the victory. One of the stories told in connection with the battle field is that when the Duke of Wellington visited the spot after the mound had 1 been made he remarked: "Ah, but you have spoiled my bat- tle field." The town of Waterloo may be seen a short distance away, which gave the battle its name. It was from this town that Wel- lington sent his noted dispatch announcing the news of the victory over England's (at that time) most dreaded foe, Napoleon Bonaparte. There is an interesting museum at the foot of the mound where are preserved all manner of relics, w T hich the ow r ners claim to have picked up on the battle field. But relics of this kind, which it is so easy to imitate, I always look upon very doubtfully. There was a kind of atmosphere about the entire place and the people which suggested the inelegant but expressive phrase of "working it for all there was in it." If one could only go quietly 77 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. and view such a spot in its simplicity, with- out having so much gratuitous information thrust upon him, the associations could not fail to be Ian inspiration. But it is practically impossible to do that in any of the historic localities of Europe. As we drove back to the station to take the train for Brussels the vehicle in which we rode was followed by any number of plaintive faced, ragged little boys and girls> begging for the coins which many of the passengers threw out for the fun of seeing them scramble for them. It seemed to me that some of the little chaps followed us for several miles, sometimes turning somersaults, sometimes singing, trying in all possible ways to attract attention and pennies. I wondered if their parents sent them out to do that, and of the effect it would have upon their characters when they were grown. A generation of beg- gars (the now great bugbear of Europe), was certainly being trained. I can hear the plead- ing little voices as they repeat the words "Charitee (they pronounce it sharitay), chari- tee, madame. Charitee, monsieur, Charitee." Prom Brussels we went on to Cologne, arriv- ing there at six o'clock in the morning. We 78 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. did not find the German city so very different from the Belgian one, with the exception of the magnificent cathe- dral, which is situated so near the sta- tion that it is almost the first thing you see when you leave the train. It is the chief attraction of the city, and we found that it merited all of the praises which have been sung in its honor. It was easily the most beautiful thing in its line which we had seen up to that time. It is built in the gothic style of architecture, and its beauty, which is more peculiar to the exterior than to the interior, consists of the innumerable peaks and niiner- ets which shoot up their slender points in every conceivable spot. The vast number of heads which are carved upon and about the doors are exceedingly beautiful and interest- ing. In our exploration of the town as a w r hole we were much attracted by the "mar- ket place." This was a very large open space in the lower part of the city, where every thing you could think of was offered for sale, from a table of old iron to a collection of rare flowers. The most thriving trade was done in the fresh vegetables and fruits which had been brought in that morning in high market 79 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. baskets upon the shoulders of bare headed women. How the purchasers did haggle and shout and gesticulate over every one of their purchases, no matter how trivial it might be. I think they really enjoy doing so, no matter whether they succeed in changing the price any or not. The city of Cologne is identified with much that is interesting in the history of Germany, and its cathedral is declared by many to be the finest gothic structure in the world. 80 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTER IX. A DELIGHTFUL TRIP ON THE HISTORIC RHINE. WIES- BADEN AND HEIDELBERG. At one o'clock that day we went aboard the Rhine steamer, and if it is possible to spend hours more delightfully than we did those which followed I do not know where one would go to do so. THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. The Rhine steamers are built purely for the comfort and convenience of the passengers, and are long, light and airy. Each steamer which passed by ours was hailed by wav- ing of handkerchiefs and an exchange of greetings. The day was exceedingly warm, but there was always a cool breeze on the deck. The Rhine is not a wide river, but the water has a delightful sparkle to it, Apart from the historical importance which its lo- cality has given it from the earliest times, it is the wonderful beauty of the scenery upon its banks which has rendered it so famous. Our only regret was that we had not allowed more time for this part of the journey. We were told that there were many people of England and the continent who never let a season pass without taking the '"Rhine trip." I am sure if it were not for the great ocean which rolls between us and the historic river, I should not fail to be one of them. The banks of the river are for the most part mountainous and thickly wooded, and the foliage is of the most beautiful deep green. Then every few miles there is a beautiful little village nest- ling at the foot of the mountains, with a church spire rising conspicuously. Vineyards 82 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. appear upon many of the hillsides, where are cultivated the grapes from which are made the famous "Bhine wines." Occasionally we caught glimpses of the German peasants who were working in the vineyards. They were so high up that they seemed like dolls as the red skirts and blue head coverings of the women fluttered against the green foliage of the grapevines. The greatest wonder to me was how they could hang on to the steep hillsides and ac- complish any work. If there was anything necessary to complete the picturesqueness of the general effect, it was supplied by the castles which surmounted many of the hills. Some of these castles were in ruins, while others had been rebuilt, and in some cases quite modern parts had been added. Our even slight experience in mountain climbing made us wonder, as I still continue to do, how in the world they ever succeeded in getting all that material up there. Some of the castles seemed to be occupied, and my hope for the occupants was that they were possessed of balloons in which to ascend to their picturesque and airy habitations. Not the least interesting part of the trip for me 83 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. occurred shortly after leaving Cologne. The lower part of the boat was completely taken up by peasant women, who from the little vil- lages along the bank had brought their vege- tables to the city to sell them. They were then returning to their homes laden with their empty baskets. Some of the women were bareheaded, and some of them wore colored handkerchiefs tied under their chins. Each time that the steamer ap- proached one of the villages where some of the women wished to disembark a large flat boat would be seen putting out from the shore. The steamer did not stop, but only slowed up a trifle and a platform was let down to the water's edge. A rope was thrown to one of the men in the flat boat, and one by one the women and baskets were piled into the flat boat. I was always afraid that there would not be room for them all, but in every case they succeeded in packing the women away and piling the big market baskets up so high that it seemed as if they could never come safely to land. This process was re- peated time and again until every woman and every basket had been disposed of. It would have added greatly to my happiness to be 84 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. able to get into one of those boats and be rowed ashore with the peasant women. I wondered if they realized with what envious eyes they were being looked upon. But such a proceeding had not been included in our plans, and so we were borne along, all too swiftly, as it seemed to me, to the end of our "Rhine journey. " We reached Coblentz at nine o'clock in the evening, and went ashore for the night. It was too late to secure satisfactory hotel accommodations, but we finally succeeded in finding a comfort- able room in a typical German hotel. The landlord was a fat, jolly old fellow, who declared that he knew r we- were Americans as soon as he saw us. He seemed to think it an immensely good joke, and laughed immoder- ately as he said it. He said that he had been in America for twenty-five years himself, and it was a very fine country. You may be sure we shook hands most heartily upon this decla- ration. For if anything could add to the at- tractiveness of "Home, Sweet Home," it is being landed in a strange German town be- tween the hours of nine and ten o'clock upon a very dark night and being obliged to hunt 85 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. for a place to sleep. Ten o'clock the next morning found us again afloat with what proved to be another delightful day before us. The scenery of the second day was even more delightful than that of the first. It was more broken and varied, and in some places fields of grain stretched back from the river as far as the eye could reach. We passed the "Bocks of the Lorelei" (great mountains in reality), and the famous "Mouse Tower" of the unfortunate bishop which is referred to in one of Longfellow's prettiest poems. "Bingen on the Khine" was viewed with the greatest interest. The castle known as "Stolzenfels" is one of the oldest and most beautiful to be seen on the voyage. We left the steamer at the little village of Biebrich, as that was the nearest sta- tion to Wiesbaden, the far famed water- ing place and health resort of Germany, where we wished to spend a day. An amusing little conversation was overheard by us just before we left the boat. Some young Ameri- can girls had come to our end of the boat and were engaged in an animated conversation, part of which was as follows: "I think I had better learn to talk German. To be sure, I 86 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. can say 'Ich liabe kein gelt/ but that does not seem to be enough. Why! what do you think? This morning at the table I asked the waiter for a teaspoon, and what do you think he brought me! A postal card! And I spoke just as plainly as I could, too." So we said "goodbye" to the mountains of solid rock, pierced oftentimes to the very heart by rail- way tunnels, and to the green vineyards and romantic castles, with which our journey up the Khine was so charmingly associated. No person who has ever taken that matchless journey will doubt that we did so with regret. A train in th'e nature of a steam tramcar con- veyed us from Biebrich to Wiesbaden, and it was towards evening when we found our- selves comfortably ensconced in a neat little hotel in the latter city. A pedestrian tour of the town, taken while light lasted, convinced us that the beauties of the place had not been overestimated. It lies upon the side of a hill, and seem* to be creeping up to its summit. There are streets and streets of the most at- tractive looking hotels, and many of the buildings which are known in that country as pensions." It almost seemed as if one would be willing to be an invalid, if in that way he 87 u THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. could find an excuse for a protracted stay at such a beautiful place. A search for the fa- mous hot water springs disclosed a large building set at one end of a pretty park. In a little room at one end of a long, airy hall the brown water was bubbling and boiling away at a great rate. The spring was sur- rounded by a railing and approached by a descending set of steps. Many emaciated looking persons were sitting around on the benches partaking of the water. It was dipped up in glasses by the attendants and handed to all who desired to drink it, for a voluntary fee. It is, however, so hot when it is first dipped up that one must wait a few minutes before tasting it, After watching the seething water for a while we decided to take a drink of it. As I had always stood in the ranks of the temperance people, I was exceed- ingly suspicious of everything that was offered me to drink while in Europe. Whether or not this suspicion extended to mo simple a thing as mineral water, I hardly know. At any rate, it was decided that my husband should be the first one to partake of the sup- posed delectable waters of the Wiesbaden springs. 88 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. He took a long draught and pretended to be delighted with the taste. I might have re- membered that he never lost an opportunity to play a joke on me, but I trusted him in this case, and quickly followed his example. But ugh! I can fairly taste it yet, the horrible, hot, salty stuff! It was so strong as to be fairly biting. I disposed of the nfouthful which I had taken, as well as I could, and assumed to be entirely indifferent to the enjoyment of any other members of the party over the incident. I de- cided then and there, however, that 1 would rather not be sick even for the pleasure of the Wiesbaden surroundings if I had to drink that water in order to recover. As we continued our stroll about the beauti- ful city w r e found ourselves continually com- ing in contact with signs reading "So-and-so (some German words), verboten." Now we agreed as to the meaning of the word "ver- boten," but in every case differed as to just what w r as verboten. Each one took a different side and sustained it with zeal. After a num- ber of these debates we decided that as we were probably not committing any of the "verboten" acts (though each one hinted that 89 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. the other might be doing so, as they could not understand the words), it was quite unneces- sary that we should agree upon the subject. It would be impossible for any one not to leave the delightful parks, fountains, groves and walks of this attractive German city without the keenest regret, and as we took the train for Heidelberg that afternoon we contributed our full share to the general stock. We went by way of Mayence and Darmstadt, and enjoyed to the fullest extent the short stay which our time table allowed us at e^ch one of these unique and interesting places. The scenery through which the train passes is beautiful, consisting of thickly wooded mountains, each one capped with a castle or fortress from which a flag was fly- ing. The castles gave a spice of romance to the surroundings, which it is impossible for other scenery, no matter how grand to pos- sess. It was here we first found that there were some compartments upon the train which were reserved exclusively for women. No man is allowed to enter them, even if they go from station to station en- tirely empty. This rule is enforced much more strictly than is the one for "no smok- 90 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. ing." An exploration of the city of Heidel- berg revealed the fact that it was much more modern in its appearance than some of the other places which we had visited, and for that reason not so interesting. However, one could not forget that it was Heidelberg with that magnificent castle overhanging the town and visible from almost every part of it. The castle is called the most magnificent ruin in Germany, and we felt amply repaid for the long climb which we were obliged to take be- fore it could be explored. It is impossible to describe this structure, as it has so- many dif- ferent parts. After you have wandered through many halls and grounds and gone up and down many steps you feel that you do not know much about it yourself. It is made of red stone, now crumbling of course, but an effort is being made to preserve it from fur- ther decay. Our visit to the castle occurred upon some kind of an anniversary of the city, and a celebration was in progress to com- memorate the event. I asked a bystander why so many pretty and attractive girls were com- ing to the castle in picturesque costumes. I succeeded in making him understand what I wanted to know by the use of some very crude 91 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. German, and he made me understand in about as crude English that, there was to be music and wine in the basement of the castle. "And are these young ladies to pass the wine?" I asked. "Oh, no," he replied. "They come to help drink it." It began to pour down torrents of rain before the young ladies had arrived, and not the least interesting part of the morning was that spent in watch- ing them get from their carriages to the shel- ter of the castle all freshly and daintily be- decked as they were. After the rain was over we started on our journey up the mountain again. (The castle is only a small part of the way up, and a good long pull it was before we reached the top, 7,800 feet above the sea level. The outlook from the summit of this Heidelberg mountain seems to command a view of the entire world. What we really did see was the beautiful val- ley of the Ehine and Necker. In the after- noon we devoted ourselves to the inspection of the university. 92 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTER X. HEIDELBERG UNIVERSITY AND SOME OTHER EXPERI- ENCES. BLACK FOREST AND FALLS OF THE RHINE. Although we knew that the Germans were not much given to the outward adornment of their institutions of learning, we were hardly prepared for the extreme plainness, nay, even shabbiness, of the buildings of the famous "Heidelberg University." They are situated upon low ground, and hence are not visible until one is directly upon them. Our visit was in the afternoon, when we found the univer- sity for the most part deserted by students and professors. As the doors stood open, we made free to enter and explore such rooms as we did not find locked. The recitation and lecture rooms which we saw were small and plain. They resembled the interior of a coun- try school house of the old days in our land. The desks and benches were of the rudest pine boards, sometimes hacked and marred. A little later we saw a number of students en- tering one of the doors, and taking it for granted that a recitation was about to begin, 93 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. asked one of them if we might enter. The young man to whom we had spoken seemed troubled and grieved at the answer which his duty compelled him to give, viz: the man might enter, but not the woman. We had a peep into the art gallery (small and dingy, and filled with plaster casts); also into the library and other parts of the different build- ings. As we strolled away, after a last back- ward glance at the bare brown buildings, we decided that the reputation of the institution must depend upon something else than the buildings w T hich made up its outer covering. We could not then take time to investigate the methods and courses of study, but left that part, which of course would have been more interesting and profitable, to a less busy occasion. ♦ A very amusing incident occurred at the restaurant where we took our lunch that day. As the noon hour found us some distance from our hotel we went into this restaurant, and ordered our dinner as best we could from the German bill of fare, and a buxom German waiting girl. After the meal had been brought the maiden smiled politely and said: "Und vas fur drinken?" We replied: "Wasser," 94 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. "Wasser?" she repeated, in a very puzzled way, and shook her head as if she had never heard the word before. "Wasser," we both repeated, in loud tones, and in our best Ger- man, thinking we might not be pronouncing the word correctly. "Kaltes wasser. Kaltes wasser." She again shook her head dubiously. We soon overheard what seemed to be an earnest discussion on the subject between the waiting girl and the mistress of the hotel in another room. After a while she returned, bearing in her hands two bottles (sealed) of a clear looking liquid. As she was about to un- cork them we protested and shook our heads and sadly repeated "wasser." She retired again with the bottles in seeming disgust, but it was only a few minutes before she returned again, this time triumphant, with some real 95 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. ice water in a glass jar. As our thirst had in- creased tremendously from the instant we be- gan to fear that no water would be forthcom- ing, we each took a drink and were much re- lieved. This episode I have referred to as amusing. Not so the one which occurred at the hotel- the next morning when we went to settle our bill. We had a charming room, comfortably furnished and looking directly out upon the mountains with the castle in the distance. When we inquired the price of the room we were sufficiently unsophisticated to suppose that the sum mentioned was the real price which we would be expected to pay. But we were not allowed to depart so cheaply. But perhaps the lesson which we learned that morning was worth the price. I don't know. When the landlord was asked for the bill he flew into a high temper, and cried out in a quite unnecessarily loud voice (our hear- ing being good): "You haf order no beer. I make no money. I could haf rent de room to some peoples who order beer. I charge you two marks extra because you haf order no beer." It was true that we had ordered no beer. We had not wanted any. But we had not 96 f THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. supposed that in omitting this beverage from our bill of fare we were committing so grave a crime as the tone and manner of the land- lord would seem to indicate. As we did not wish to fall into the hands of the police in a country where we understood neither the laws nor the language, w^e paid the extra charge, equal to about fifty cents in our money. I for my part would rather have paid out a much larger sum than swallow a drop of that ill smelling liquid. Still the idea of having to pay because we did not drink beer roused feelings in my American heart which would not look well on paper, and so I shall not put them down. While, as I said before, I have never known the time when 1 did not consider myself a temperance person, I had not realized how strong my temperance 97 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. sentiments were until I found myself in a place where I could not get away from the smell of beer, ana until I saw T people drink and drink and drink until I was forced to wonder how they had any time or energy left to live. Indeed, the- information and imagiria- tion of these people does not extend so far as to include the idea that there are people in the world who do not drink as they do. Hence it came about that the landlord neglected to make any definite stipulation upon the sub- ject before renting us the room. However, we realized that he got the best of it that time, for he had his money and his beer, too. One thing we are not likely to forget. That is that the manufacture of beer is the chief in- dustry of Heidelberg, and when I write a guide book I shall be tempted to say that the chief occupation is drinking it. After Heidelberg, came the long antici- pated tour of the "Black Forest of Germany." The Black Forest holds so much of romance in its very name that it hardly needs the at- traction of historic interest and rare natural beauty to add to its fascination. This mount- ainous district receives its name from the dense growth of tall, straight pine trees, 98 \ THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. which are not exactly black, but whose weather worn bark has that appearance, es- pecially from a distance. Not being satisfied with the flying glimpses which we were able to snatch from the windows of the train, we decided to get off at one of the little villages which nestle in the ravines, and explore the country on foot. After some inquiry we se- lected the village of Triburg as being the most typical, and also as surrounded by the most beautiful and picturesque scenery. At Triburg, therefore, we left the train, and selecting an attractive looking path, be- gan the ascent of the mountains. The village of Triburg, in the very midst of the Black Forest, winds along for a con- siderable distance through a narrow ravine. Its one street is hemmed in on either side by mountains, always steep and in some places composed of solid rock. The railway station where we left the train was at one end of the street and the scenery was at the other end. As we followed the zigzag course we won- dered what it was w r hich induced people to spend their lives in such a place. To be sure, the scenery w r as pretty and wild and pictur- esque, but what was there to eat? L.ofC. 99 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. It did. not seem to me that they could sell enough of the little hand carved trinkets, such as animals, paper knives, boxes and so forth, to bring in a living for very many. However, as we did not have to settle the question for them we did not allow it to worry us, but dis- missed the matter with the reflection that they probably did not know that there was any other place to live, and so lived there as a matter of course. The most attractive feature of the walk which we took up the mountain that morning was the stream which rushed down the gorge. There was very little water all told, but the bed of the stream was so steep and rocky that it kept what water there was bub- bling and boiling and leaping in a most fear- ful and wonderful manner. Sometimes there would be long expanses of waterfall, but so thin and gauzy as to give the effect of delicate lace. Occasionally the path led across the stream by a rustic bridge, and it was always with a little shiver that I found myself sepa- rated only by a few rude timbers from that angry little torrent. We wandered up and up through the maze of tall, straight dark- barked pine trees, while the ground was cov- 100 s THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. ered with a profusion of different kinds of ferns and many creeping plants with which I was not familiar. The ponderous rocks, thickly overgrown with moss, were also a prominent feature of the landscape. In about an hour we had reached the top, where there was a pleasant little eating house, which we were glad to patronize after the exertions of the ascent. The descent was easier and quicker, during which we did not neglect to appropriate all we could carry of the beauti- ful ferns and stones which abounded, as sou- venirs of this part of the world which had hitherto been such an unknown country to us. We made our way back to the railway station and taking our seat upon the outside, were interested in watching the preparations which were being made for the incoming train. Tables were brought out and placed as near as possible to the place where the train would stop. These were set with cov- ers, and dishes containing different kinds of food were placed upon them. There were sandwiches, cakes, fruits,milk, and, of course, liquors. As the train rolled in, heads were thrust from all the windows and the refresh- ments were in great demand. Among all the 101 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. unintelligible jargon of different languages which were being used in the station, we were attracted by hearing in the flattest kind of Yankee accent (not even English, but pure American), the question: "How much does that cost?" We looked at each other as if to inquire what there was about that simple expression which made it almost startle us. We then became conscious that it was the first real "United States," apart from what we had used in our own conversation, which we had heard since we left London. I might add that we did not hear much "United States" while in Londoin. The pleasure which this little incident gave us was quite out of proportion to its importance. We hap- pened to enter the car from which the voice had come, and found there a conducted party of Americans, with whom we were soon on the best of terms, thus adding much to the pleasure of the ride for that day. We had not intended to go aside from the beaten path to visit the "Falls of the Khine," which are seen to the best advantage from the little town of Neuhausen. Especially since almost the last thing we had seen before leaving the United 102 s THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. States was Niagara Falls. But during the progress of the journey we had heard so much about these falls that we decided w T e had bet- ter see them if only to discover for ourselves how little they were. So we went to Neu- hausen that afternoon and arrived there in time to see by daylight the picturesque little waterfall, which seems like a mere toy as compared with the monstrous American tor- rent. We "put up" at a little German hotel, where no word of English was spoken, and I do not quite understand yet how T they made us comprehend that at half past nine that evening the falls would be illuminated by means of electric lights. ' We felt of course that we must not miss that, and so prepared ourselves for the somew T hat long walk which lay between the hotel and the falls. A driz- zling rain had begun to fall at dusk, and the town was as dark as pitch. We tried to cut across lots, and found ourselves mixed up with a vacant lot, a barbed wire fence and som,e long wet grass, and were obliged to re- trace our steps a number of times and ask directions of people who could not under- stand a word we said, and, taking it all to- gether, it was not a pleasant walk at all. 103 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. When we finally reached the falls it seemed to me that the feeble searchlight which was creeping back and forth upon them was weird and uncanny, and produced more the effect of a ghost's lantern than an illumination. I thought it would be more sensible to light up the places where people had to walk than that little waterfall. How one's impression of the beauty of a thing is affected by the circum- stances under which it is seen! 104 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTER XI. ZURICH. ENTRANCING BEAUTIES ABOUT LUCERNE. THE RIDE UP MOUNT RIGI. Early the next morning we took the train for the Swiss city of Zurich, where we spent the day. We found it very interesting. It lies partly on a hillside, and some of the streets are merely a succession of staircases, although regularly laid out and beautifully kept. The rushing little river which winds through the town breaks up the monotony, and there are any number of pretty bridges. We first climbed the hill to the "Polytechnic School/' for which educational institution this city is noted all over the world. The buildings are beautifully located, and from the exterior present a more modern appear- ance than those of the University of Heidel- berg. But the interior seemed very crude as compared with our American colleges. There was a fine collection of statuary, which we were allowed to inspect for a pecuniary con- sideration, and an exceptionally fine library 105 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. and reading room. That is, the backs of the books were attractive, but our knowledge of the language was not sufficient to allow us to read them. Continuing our explorations, we w r alked out to the lake which lies at one end of the town. This was our first introduc- tion to those wonderfully beautiful lakes of Switzerland. Although we saw many more afterwards, and some that were more beauti- ful than the one at Zurich, I shall never forget the first impression which it produced upon my mind. This particular lake is somewhat long and narrow, and has hanging over it to a peculiar degree that remarkable bluish- green hazy tint which, combined with the deep blue of the water, produces a most charming effect. Picturesque green hills rise on each side as far as the eye can reach. These are dotted with trees and pretty houses. Elab- orate bathing houses for both men and women line the shores of the lake, and judg- ing from appearances the pastime of swim- ming is very popular in Zurich. The shops were attractive, and the streets were wide. When we left Zurich we began to realize that we were approaching the most interest- ing and in some respects the most memorable 106 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. part of our entire journey. We realized this to the full later on. Our next stopping place was the city of Lucerne, which, together with the lake and its surroundings, come as near making an earthly paradise out of natural scenery as any spot known to man. The sentiment was most heartily echoed by us that "for picturesque magnificence of situa- tion Lucerne is unsurpassed, being placed as it were an, amphitheater formed by the sur- rounding hills and facing the beautiful lake and the great mountains which hem it in." There are a number of interesting things in the city, but our interest centered about the wonderful "Lion." It is hard to realize just what the Lion is until one has seen it for oneself. As the pictures and copies of this animal are so widely spread, every one knows that it is the figure of an immense lion repre- sented at the moment- of passing through the death struggle, and with the fatal arrow still in his back. It was carved out of a solid moun- tain of gray rock after a smaller model by Thorwaldsen, in honor of the bravery of the Swiss guards who fell in defending the Tuil- leries in August, 1792. I had pictured this magnificent beast, which has always been a 107 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. favorite of mine, as away by itself in some lonely mountain place where it was wild and rocky and steep. But I was surprised and a little disappointed to find that the immense rock out of which it is carved is in the very heart of the city, and is surrounded by a pleasant little park where ducks swim quietly in artificial ponds, and where youthful couples visit upon shady benches. But there it is, the same wonderful Lion. It took me a few seconds to adjust my previous concep- tions of the surroundings to the actual con- ditions, but after that was done it would be 108 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. difficult for me to exaggerate the feeling of pleasure which I experienced in really seeing this beautiful creation which had existed for so long in my mind only as a picture. Aside from the "Lion" the city of Lucerne is much the same as the other cities of Swit- zerland. That is, it is clean, well kept and picturesque, with some modern buildings mixed up with ancient architecture. The banks of the beautiful "Lake of Lucerne" (to my mind the most beautiful of any in that lo- cality), are dotted every few miles with tiny mountain villages. As the mountains ap- proach the lake rather precipitately, there is very little room for these villages, and they are obliged to creep up the sides of the hills. There are usually two or three hotels upon the immediate bank of the lake, while the residence portion in a scattering way dots the green hills. These villages, as indicated by the size and character of the hotels, are fre- quented by tourists from all over the world. There can hardly be a more beautiful spot in which to spend the leisure hours of a summer vacation. As is familiar to all, the far-famed "Kigi Kulm" is one of the mountains which rises from the shores of Lake Lucerne. It is 109 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. not because this mountain is so high that it is so popular, but because such a beautiful and unobstructed view may be obtained from the summit. It is claimed that a circuit of three hundred miles may be swept by the eye, in- cluding a perfect panorama of sky, lakes and mountains. We had planned to spend a night upon the summit of Rigi, in the hope of seeing the beautiful sunrise which is now so famous all over the world. Accordingly, in the late afternoon of a most perfect day we took a lake steamer from Lucerne, and went ashore at Vitznau, from which place an electric road ascends to the summit. The boat ride was delightful. The peculiar deep blue green of no THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. the water and the soft haze which has been mentioned as the striking feature of the Swiss lakes, exist here to a marked degree. While the ride up the mountain was wonderful, I cannot say that it was pleasant. Probably I am too earthy to enjoy being lifted skyward at such a rapid pace. In many places we seemed to be going straight up, and a glance over the side of the open car was not reassur- ing. Especially was this the case when the great ravines were being crossed. The cattle and sheep browsing below looked like toys, and the towns which nestled there seemed like doll houses. We had not gone far before we w r ere glad to put on the heavy wraps which we had been advised to take with us, in spite of the intense heat which prevailed below. It seems almost presumptuous to think of de- scribing an evening and morning spent on Mount Kigi, since so many have done so be- fore me. Still I am impressed that each one who sees this marvelous sight sees it in his own w T ay, no matter how many times he may have heard it described. The sun was just setting in a perfectly clear sky when the car in which we were sitting neared the top of the mountain. There is really nothing like it in 111 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. the world, and I have studied long to find what it is which makes it so beautiful. The entire horizon is a delicate, almost tender pink, a color which I am quite unable to de- scribe, but whose predominating element is softness. You can imagine that if you could only touch it with your hand it would feel like the softest of soft down. Then, as the sun sank out of sight, a shaft of light, bril- liant, but partaking of the same softness which has been mentioned before, shot far up v into the heavens from the place where he had disappeared. At the hotel we found active preparations in progress for an early "turn out," as there w T as every prospect of that somewhat unusual occurrence, a clear sun- rise. Every train which came up the mount- ain was loaded with tourists who had been lingering, perhaps for days, in the towns at the foot of the mountain, awaiting the realiz- ation of their hopes. It is quite needless to say that the favorable outlook added materi- ally to the excitement as far as we ourselves were concerned, with which the day had been filled. At four o'clock in the morning the bugle sounded through the large hall of the 112 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. hotel, and the greatest possible bustle and scurrying ensued. In the dim morn- ing light we could see the snow capped summits of the Bernese Alps stretching away on every side to the horizon. It took but a few minutes to discover that the sky was perfectly clear, and by the time we reached the elevation just above the hotel there was the same delicate suffusion of pink all around the horizon which had accompa- nied the setting sun. A few small clouds which were hovering just above the spot where we w r ei*e looking for the sun to appear, grew little by little to look like brilliant masses of gold. Then they became rosy and soon a deep pink. A glance in the opposite direction disclosed the tips of the Eiger and Youngfrau gorgeously lighted by the rays of the sun, which came to them first on account of their height. Then, just above the edge of the horizon, appeared the blood red rim, like the edge of a large fiery eye, gleaming through the mist. (For it was still far from being daylight.) Little by little, like some animal rising slowly to its feet in the dusk, the whole sun appeared. Our eyes fell before its intensity, and we were glad to turn and 113 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. enjoy the effect of its full force upon the snow covered mountains opposite. There is little to be said in comparison with what one feels after having seen a sight like this. Si- lently we .watched the heavy mists as they rose gradually from the valleys below. Some- times they arose as clouds and floated away over the distant hilltops. Again they simply melted before the strengthening rays of the sun. We decided to walk down the mount- ain, and although the jaunt was long and tiresome, we felt well repaid for the weari- ness which it brought us by the added beauties which we were able to enjoy. It seemed actually wicked to leave the beautiful scenery through which we passed. Lake Lu- cerne was constantly in sight below us with the deep blue of its waters, the mysterious haze which rested upon it, the beautiful green of the trees and grass, the snowcapped mount- ains in the distance, and the blue sky hang- ing high above all. It was no wonder that it seemed like a dream from which we must soon awaken. The little village of Vitznau, at the foot of the mountain, was alive with tourists who came trooping in from all sides to take the incoming boat back to Lucerne. 114 "THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. Every one was in the best of spirits because they had seen the sun rise, the sight which many have stayed weeks to see, and then been obliged to go away disappointed. A man upon the top of Eigi told us that up to that morning it had been a month since there had been a clear sunrise. No wonder we all felt happy. Later we took the boat from Lucerne to Fluelen, which lies at the extreme end of the lake, a distance of twent f y-flve miles. The external conditions, upon which so much depends, were favorable, and the ride was fine. The sun was just sinking away be- hind the mountains in that perfect blueness which the sky and clouds combine to effect, when the boat drew up at Fluelen, and we went ashore for the night. Before we landed we had come to realize in a number of ways that we were in the "William Tell" country. Along the lake shore a chapel had appeared, and a monument said to be devoted to this hero, whose existence and brave deeds are clouded by no shadow of doubt in the minds of the people here. Later we learned that it was at the little village of Altdorf, two miles from the lake, that the shooting of the apple is declared to have occurred. We break- 115 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. fasted early the next morning and started foi* a walk to Altdorf. It is well named the "old village," for the signs of .antiquity abound. A fantastically colored statue of Christ stands in an open square. By threading your way up a stone flagged path enclosed by high stone walls you will find yourself in* front of a Jesuit chapel. In the rear there stands a monastery, and the solemn looking brethren in their long black gowns and round flat hats flit about the place. The door of the little chapel stood wide open on that summer morn- ing, and feeling free to enter, we did so. We found no human being within, but there was a distinctively perceptible atmosphere in- duced by the candles which were burning upon the altar, the faces of divinities and saints which were painted upon the wall, of quiet meditation and spirituality to which we could not be insensible. We returned to the village and sought the historic spot where William Tell stood when he shot the famous arrow which meant so much to the liberties of Switzerland. A large and handsome bronze statue of Tell and his son, representing them as going to the place of trial, marks the spot where the father is supposed to have stood, 116 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. while at a distance of seventy feet a fountain marks the position of the son. Inscribed in the stone above the statue we read the fol- lowing lines: "Erzahlen wird man von dem Schutzen Tell So lang die Berge steh'n auf Ihrem Grunde." So it is quite evident that the "Tell" story is no fable to his countrymen. Throughout this region, which might be called the country district of Switzerland, we came in contact with conditions which must be described as abject poverty. We came near enough to the people to see for ourselves that there is really little to live on in that rocky, mountainous country, even though it is so picturesque and attractive to travelers. And yet there was that constant object lesson of thrift and cleanliness which returned to us again and again during our travels through the cities and towns to the south of the Alps. We often realized the truth of the declaration that one may spend most any amount of time in a Swiss village delightfully, but nothing is more disagreeable than to be obliged to spend a night in a small Italian town. 117 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTER XII. LEAVE SWITZERLAND FOR HISTORIC ITALY. CATHE- DRAL AND OTHER ART WORKS OF MILAN. Our sojourn in Switzerland was at a close, and we were now ready to go southward. Ac- cordingly, we find ourselves standing upon the railway platform waiting for the coming of the train which is to bear us across the Alps. And after the Alps — Italy. Italy— which up to that moment had existed for me only as a boot shaped portion of color upon the map, extending down between the blue waters of the Adriatic and the Mediterranean. In a few short hours that country where so much has happened of interest to the rest of the world would be a reality. The famous art treasures, which so far had only been seen through the eyes of others, would cease to be a dream and become a reality. Thoughts like these are crowding themselves in our minds as we say "goodbye" to the green banks and blue waters of the beautiful Lake Lucerne, which we are reconciled to do only by the thought of the glories yet to come. 118 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. The crossing of the Alps had occupied no small part in the eager anticipation in which a European trip had always been held, and it seemed impossible to believe that we were so near them. We had arranged to go by way of the St. Gothard Pass, both because it. was more convenient and because we wished to see this marvel of mechanical engineering which the railroad constituted. The approach to the Alps is gradual, that is, at first the country is nearly level, then somewhat broken and uneven, and finally the real maj- esty of the Alps comes into view. The St. Gothard Pass is through the mountains rather than over them, for there is a constant succession of tunnels of different lengths. The ride from the standpoint of enjoyment was a disappointment. The small compartment cars were dimly lighted, and most of the time filled with dense smoke. It surely would be difficult to imagine what pleasure could be derived from gazing through car smoke at the dim outlines of strangers, even though you do try to realize that you are tearing through the very bowels of the historic Alps. The ride settled itself into a succession of plunging through tunnels and dashing over terrible 119 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. precipices. Often the heights were made more dizzy by the sight of raging mountain torrents which rushed below the railway span. Whenever a sudden rush of daylight indicated that we were in an opening we has- tened to thrust our heads out of the window, jerking them in again when we approached the ubiquitous tunnel, lest they might be knocked off. After this process had been re- peated for the best part of a hot afternoon our eyes and necks ached, and our throats were filled with car smoke, and we felt that we had done our duty by the "St. Gothard Pass." As the last tunnel was left behind and the train rolled out under the blue ^kj of Italy, we drew long breaths of relief. Our first stop was at Chiasso, the border town between Switzerland and Italy. Here the train was emptied of everything which it contained, in- cluding passengers, hand luggage and trunks, as all baggage must be opened and examined by the custom officers. The station was the scene of the wildest confusion. We felt that those who had saved their heads while going over the pass were more than likely to lose them here. The train had been very full, there were only three custom officers, and 120 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. everybody wanted his baggage examined first. It al^o seemed to me that they were more than usually thorough on this occasion in the matter of examination. We only had hand luggage, and so succeeded in getting through quickly. But I was sorry for the young ladies whose carefully packed trunks were ruth- lessly thrown open and whose dainty ward- robes were hauled out and hurriedly thrust back again by these swarthy Italians. The disagreeable part of it was the hurried and rough way in which everything was done. But it was soon over (including a season of wait- ing in a kind of iron pen outside where the passengers were hustled as fast as their bag- gage had been examined, to wait until all was ready), and we were on our way to our next stop, which was the Italian city of Milan. As we looked back from the car upon the reced- ing mountains I seemed to grow weary of them and wished that I could rest my eyes with a long stretch of prairie again. In spite of this feeling, I believe that were I to live for any considerable time among these moun- tains, every old bald, scraggy peak would be- come as dear to me as my own kith and kin, and I should long intensely for a sight of them when away. 121 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. We reached Milan at about seven o'clock in the evening, and after finding a hotel, again indulged in a gaslight pedestrian tour. How we missed the 'buses of London, from the top of which one can see so much by parting with a few copper pennies. Although Milan ranks among the very first of the cities of Italy as an art center, the finest of the world's paint- ings are not there. But the architecture is so beautiful that we enjoyed most what might be called an "outside view." First among the wonders and beauties of Milan I would place the magnificent cathe- dral. I have already referred to the fact that by this time we were omitting the cathedrals from our lists of sights. But the Milan ca- thedral stands quite apart from all others of its kind, and is one of the things which I re- member best. It w^as a delightfully cool and breezy mlorning when we visited the cathe- dral, and we climbed innumerable flights of white stone steps to the very top of it. The marble of this building is really a pure white, and not a dirty gray, as are most of the build- ings which are described in the guide book as pure white. Just think of 2,000 statues on the outside of a church, and all of them so 122 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. perfect as to bear the closest inspection. The stairs which wind around the exterior of the building enable you to study the architectural beauties of it to the very best advantage. As we climbed up and up we seemed to be pass- ing through a veritable forest of exquisite statuary and finely chiseled turrets. I have forgotten how high the building is, but fig- ures do not count for much anyway when one feels oneself so near to heaven. I remem- ber that when we stepped out upon one of the larger openings about one-half of the way up, we came upon a younsr American girl whom we had seen before upon the journey. She seemed to be entirely alone, but evidently was not lonesome, for she had a kodak in her hand and was busy securing pictures of the statu- ary, towers and steeples among which she was standing. For me, the Milan cathedral was one of the few things of which I felt that T would rather retain the mental picture w r hich I had gained than bring away a picture upon paper. There are many other interesting churches in Milan besides this great cathedral. We visited the one called the "Church of St. Mary," noted for containing the original of 123 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. Leonardo de Vinci's painting of tlhe "Last Supper. " This painting covers the entire end wall of a room called the refectory, situated at one corner of the church. There is nothing in the room except copies of the painting, both in colors and in black and white, and chairs for the convenience of the spectators. The picture itself is so faded and so many portions of the plaster are chipped off that there is no pleasure to be derived from an in- spection of it. One can hardly be reconciled to the fact that such masterpieces as these are so exposed to the attacks of material de- cay, and we feel very much like scolding somebody, although we do not know whom, because this picture was not painted upon a canvas by itself where it could be taken care of, as it ought to be. But it is too late for that now, and so there stands a rather dismal re- minder of the fact that all mian-made things must inevitably fade, no matter how precious or beautiful they may be. There are many fine copies of the painting about the room, and I felt that I had in some measure secured an idea of the original in its earlier days. There was another church called the "Church of St. Ambrose." I look back upon 124 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. this church with something of the same feel- ing with which one recalls a mummy. I felt- that it had been alive once, but now was dead. You went down to get into it, and the floor was of decaying red stone. It was a peculiar shape, and there were old and decrepit men wandering through it. Some of them were crossing themselves and praying, and others followed us around to beg. There was a sort of court at the back, where old women were drawing water at a pump. I wondered why they did not pull the old church down and build a new T one, but they do not do such things in Italy, but hang on to the old things until they fall down of their own weight. I want to speak of one other interesting thing in Milan. That is the "Victor Emanuel Gal- lery." Now, to me the word "gallery" had always suggested one of two things: either the upstairs in a church or theater, or a room devoted to pictures (for taking them or ex- hibiting them). As the latter meaning had obtained so far in our travels, w T e supposed that it would do so the same here, and entered what we supposed must be the passageway to the picture room. But we soon found (I have forgotten whether it was by intuition or from 125 the story of a European tour. the guide book) that the passageway was the gallery itself. I cannot tell just how we got into the place or how we got out of it, and I also feel quite unable to tell what it was like. One must imagine two wide perfectly clean streets cutting each other after the manner of a Greek cross. A glass roof is over the top, and the light in the evening was as brilliant as electricity could make it. It is only in the evening that it is interesting, for when we went through it the next morning we found it as quiet as a churchyard. The gayest of shops, interspersed with eating and drinking places, line the sides. It is thronged with beautifullv dressed men and women. We walked around with the rest of the well dressed people, forgetting the while our own travel worn appearance. After a while we grew weary, and thought that it was time for them all to go home and go to bed. We did not tell them so, however, but went away our- selves and left them there, after staring at them and at the shop windows until our heads ached. Although Milan is in Italy, it is not essentially different from the cities to the north of the Alps. It is remarkable how things gradually change as you move south- 126 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUIt. ward. Th£ sun is hotter, the air is dryer, the cars are dirtier, and the traveler becomes con- scious of an indescribable mixture of the most peculiar and disagreeable odors, from which he does not seem to escape until he again clears the Alps going northward. We had been told that "nobody with any sense goes to Italy in summer," and after a few hours of the heat and the smells, we were quite ready to agree that the saying was a true one. 127 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTER XIII. VENICE FULFILLS HIGHEST ANTICIPATIONS. THE ARRIVAL. Venice! The "Bride of the Adriatic. " One can almost forget the discomforts of the local- ity when once this wonderful city comes into view. The sun was nearing its setting as the train rolled over the wide lagoon which must be crossed before the city is entered. I shall never forget (at least I hope I never may) how the water glistened all around us, how bril- liant the buildings in the distance were, and how blue the sky was above all. I felt that I must be dreaming. For there is only one Venice, and that had always been so far away. Well! we did not actually get out of the cars into a boat, for the station was sur- rounded by a large stone platform. But the gondoliers were flocking all around the edge of this platform, and crowding each other and shouting, and there was all of the confusion and commotion about which one always hears from those who have been there. Runners 128 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. from the different hotels were in evidence upon every side, each one bearing upon his cap the name of his establishment. We were attracted by the appearance of one little fel- low who announced to us that he represented an "English hotel/' and we proceeded to mtike terms with him. Although the gon- dolas in Venice correspond to the 'buses in other places, the hotels do not have individual boats for their respective guests, as would be expected, but the passengers are left to look after themselves in this respect. This, of course, must be paid for as an extra, with the addition of a fee to the gondolier. I suppose this plan was adopted so that a few more Ital- ians may have an opportunity to haggle with the foreign tourists who flock to the city, and so extort a few more coins from the unsophis- ticated. Nothing seems to delight a certain class of Europeans more than opportunities of this kind. The little agent who acted as our guide tried to explain to us why he had to pay not only for the gondola but for a man to row it as well, but I confess I was not able to understand it all. I have been figuring on it ever since, and I am still in the dark, as I am in regard to several things which happened in Italy. 130 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. Everything in Venice was so new and strange and so different from anything else which we had seen that we were entirely ab- sorbed by the general effect, and many of the details escaped ns. It was quite a distance from the railway station to the hotel where we were to stop, and the ride in the gondola seems as I look back upon it like an enchanted one. Much of it was upon the "Grand Canal/' but part of the time w r e were winding in and out upon the smaller streets. To think that we were really in Venice, and riding in a gondola! The effect of the build- ings, when one is close to them, is not as bril- liant as represented in pictures of the city. It is evident that the stone buildings of which the city is composed w r ere at one time in their history painted in brilliant blues and reds, but time and weather have dimmed their brightness. As I have mentioned before, the afternoon was a warm one, and I was at- tracted by the large number of small boys w^ho were in swimming upon the streets. As their little heads bobbed in and out among the gondolas I was much exercised lest some of them should be struck by the boat and in- jured. But as no one else took any notice of 131 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. them, I decided th&t my alarm* was out of place, and that they were probably quite able to take care of themselves. I wish I could reproduce upon paper the peculiar noise which the gondolier makes when he wants another boat to get out of his way. I would not care, however, to reproduce the sounds which he makes when the other boat does not do it. The language of the gon- doliers upon the canals of Venice is proverb- ial, and although they swore in Italian, we were conscious that they were living up to their record. Along some of the streets there were large boats drawn up for the transporta- tion of freight. I realized how queer it would seem to have everything in the city drawn around by boats. And then it came over me how still the city was in spite of the calling of the gondoliers! It almost reminded one of the country, without the rumble of a carriage wheel to be heard anywhere. Upon one street we saw a little fellow diving off from his front porch. It was quite amusing to me to think that when the small boys of Venice want to go in swimming all they have to do is to put on a bathing suit and go out and dive off the piazza. I knew some little boys at home who 132 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. would want to move to Venice right away if they should hear about that. When we reached the hotel we found that its reputa- tion of being "English" was founded upo«n the fact that the young man who had met us at the station could speak our language rather haltingly. Every one else spoke Italian. After supper we went out for a stroll. Such an act might imply that we were endowed with the miraculous pow T er of walking upon the water, but such is not the case. It is not necessary to be able to walk upon the water in order to take a walk in Venice. While the front doors of all the buildings open upon the water, there is always a back door which opens upon a solid walk of cement. The "Rialto" is a wide, attractive and brilliantly lighted alley. After passing out of the door of the hotel and going through a dark and narrow passageway we found ourselves upon the "Kialto," being carried along with a perfect throng of people, some of whom seemed to be in a dreadful hurry, while others were taking the ordinary amount of time for their walk. The street was full, but did not seem uncomfortable, as those going one way kept upon one side, and those going the other way kept upon the 133 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. other, in a most orderly and regular manner. But even though everything seemed to be or- derly, we remembered that we were in Italy, and almost unconsciously put our hands over our watches and felt for our purses. It is a natural instinct to feel for one's purse, even though you know there is not much in it. We walked in one direction until we were tired, stopping every few minutes, of course, to gaze into the shop windows, which were more brilliant than any we had seen. (We had not been in Paris then.) Then we joined the crowed on the other side of the street and walked back again, taking in the shops on that side of the street, Although we had never been in Venice before, and it was getting very late, there was no danger of los- ing our way, neither did we have to ask direc- tions from any one, for the crowd was all on that one street, and was constantly receiving additions from the small dark streets which ran into it. When we were back again at the opening of the little dark alley by which we had made our way from the hotel, it seemed darker than ever after the bright light ol the wider street. Dark alleys are not attractive anyw r here, and there was certainly nothing to 134 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. make this one more so than the ordinary. But we had to go through it unless we wished to spend the night upon the street, and our weary bodies had long since been calling vig- orously for rest. So we hurried along and we still live to tell the story. I have neglected to speak of the warm welcome which was given us by those insects so popular in Italy, the fleas. I think they must have secured a special reunion of their relatives and friends to await our coming. Although there were screens of netting over the beds, these were not, sufficient to prevent the mosquitoes from adding their welcome to that of the others. These latter winged creatures evidently felt just as friendly, even though there were not as many of them to express themselves. The next day was Sunday, but we were obliged to con- sult the calendar to be sure of it, for there was nothing about the atmosphere of the place or the people to indicate the fact. All the stores were open, there was no indication of religious services anywhere, and things ap- peared to be going just as they usually did. We felt that a visit to the Art Gallery, which is one of the finest in Europe, would be the most proper thing under the circumstances. 135 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. But we had no idea where it was, and we could not find the young man who was the only one about the hotel who spoke English. We started out and walked until we saw a sign in the window, "English Spoken Here." We went in and found it was a delightful lit- tle art store, presided over by two American girls. We were very thankful to meet real Americans. We asked the young ladies if they could direct us to the Art Gallery. It turned out to be a long waj^ and the direc- tions w^ere so many that we got mixed up about them. Finally we learned that the main objective point should be the "iron bridge," directly beyond which we should find the Gallery. We asked the Italian name for "iron bridge," and found that it was ' T ponto ferro," and with this we started upon our way. We walked on serenely as far as we could remember the directions. Then we saw a man coming who looked as if he were rea- sonably intelligent (we had let several pass who looked as if they were not), and ex- claimed "ponto ferro." He said it over after us several times, and then the light seemed to dawn upon his mind. I will digress a mo- ment to say that there is nothing more exas- 136 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. perating than to have people of whom you ask directions, act as if there was no such place in the world. He began to talk very loud and very fast, gesticulating in all directions at the same time. Then he bowed and smiled most politely and — passed on. He left us fully as well informed as we were before we spoke to him. After trying one or two others with about the same success, we fell back on our original directions, and selecting a street which we thought might possibly be the right one we went on our way, wondering why those stupid Italians did not learn to talk English. Well, much to our relief, "ponto ferro" soon came into view, and beyond it the Art Gallery was clearly in evidence. The bridge itself is a fine structure, and we felt glad to have seen it for its own sake. We • found that the art gallery did not open until ten o'clock, and as it still lacked a few min- utes of that time, we sat down on the porch to wait. We noticed with surprise that there were a large number of men standing about the clcor, some of them talking in an excited manner. When we heard the clocks striking ten we went to the door again, only to find it closed still. I do not remember now how 137 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. we received the disappointing information that it was "election day," and for that reason the gallery and a number of other interesting building's would be closed for the day. We were annoyed exceedingly that we had used so much time in the pursuit of this building when there were so many things which w r e should not have time to see. But those with whom we tried to remonstrate upon the sub- ject remained quite unmoved. They seemed to indicate that it was our fault if we did not know that elections in Venice were always held on Sunday, as well as the fact that it was that particular Sunday when they were to oc- cur. As we had planned to leave the city that evening, and all of the remaining days were already planned for, we were obliged to re- sign ourselves to letting that particular art gallery go- unseen until the next time we should happen to be along that way. We made the most of our walk, however, enjoying the sights which lay along the way. 138 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTER XIV. PIAZZA OF ST. MARK'S. THE BRIDGE OP SIGHS. THE OLD BELL TOWER. JJpon the previous evening we had secured a glimpse of the famous "Piazza of St. Mark's" by gas light. As this is one of the most interesting and important localities of Venice we returned to it again. We spent the next few hours in examining the many his- toric buildings and scenes which center about it. The locality referred to is a large open square, paved for the most part with solid marble, no longer white, but long since grown gray with age and use. It is partly surrounded by shops of different kinds, while the City Hall, St. Mark's Cathedral, and the Doge's Palace occupy prominent positions. It opens upon the water, where we found a beautifully kept wharf filled with boats and sailing crafts of every description. Upon the previous evening there had been a band stand in the center. This was surrounded by board 139 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. seats which were crowded with women hold- ing dirty babies. But upon our return to it in the morning we found it entirely empty and deserted except by the rays of the sun, which poured down such an intensity of heat as to almost blister the feet of the pedestrians who were bold enough to cross it at that time, among which number we found ourselves. We sought the interior of the cathedral, and found it an immense relief from the burning heat. Its exterior corresponds very perfectly with the many pictures which abound, with the exception that the colors are much dimmed, and in many places peeled and chipped off. It is claimed that the actual bones of St. Mark, the patron saint of the city, are preserved here. But no bones were on ex- hibition, so that our credulity was not put to the test. The wide doors of the cathedral were open, as they are in all of the churches of that country, and the opening was covered by a heavy double curtain. The interior was cur- ious. We examined the floor first. It is a series of fine mosaics, but rough and uneven as if the stones, laid directly upon the ground, had yielded to the pressure of the many hun- X40 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. dreds of feet which have passed over them since they were first laid there. The central part which we entered first was almost entirely empty. The only seats visible were some cir- cular ones about the pillars. Upon one of these there was seated a weary looking Vene- tian woman nursing her baby. She was evi- dently returning from a long walk, as her market basket was standing by her side, and her clothes appeared dusty and worn. I felt as I looked at her, as I did with much inter- est, that this church was proving a sanctuary in the true sense of the word. In other places were tourists like ourselves, studying the guide books. We were thankful that the guide books were always red, for though we never saw these people again, we passed on with a thrill of sympathy, similar to that ex- pressed by the "Philistine," only in this case it was "Ships that pass in the morning." There were all kinds of alcoves and apart- ments in different places filled with statuary, incense bowls and different things, unlike any thing which I had seen before, and the names of which were unfamiliar to us. We discov- ered that there was something going on in one of the alcoves, for it was crowded with 141 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. people, and the sound of chanting and the odor of incense floated over their heads. We edged our way through the crowd (they were all standing) until we were near enough the altar to see what was taking place. There was a separate altar in each one of the al- coves. We found that a funeral was being held. The casket was upon the inside of the railing, and two* priests in rich robes were swinging the incense and chanting the dirge. There were evidently a few people n^ar the altar who were friends of the deceased and were mourning his (or her) loss. But most of them seemed simply spectators. A further tour of the church disclosed a ceiling of rounded domes ornamented with stiff gilded figures, after the manner of Byzantine decora- tion. As we left the shadow of St. Mark's for the glare of the Italian sunshine my most clearly defined impression was of the years — years — years which had passed since time be- gan to be. Of course the "Bridge of Sighs" is as in- teresting as anything which is to be seen in Venice. A short walk from the Piazza of St. Mark's brought us to the place where we could see it. The bridge leads from the 142 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. "Doge's Palace/' where the prisoners were tried, to the prison beyond where are the famous and awful "Dungeons of the Inquisi- tions." It looks just as the pictures of it do, except, as has been said about the other buildings, the colors are dull and dim. The water alone, which filled the narrow space between the two buildings, was the only thing which retained its original brightness of color. It was not difficult to be thrilled, as we gazed upon this bridge, and this water, and the Avhole scene which was the last to be looked upon by many a poor wretch in days gone by. The Doge's Palace, like the Art Gallery, was closed on account of the election, so we were obliged to content ourselves with an in- spection of the exterior, and' the walk through the large quadrangle and porch which runs around it. The building is large but not high, and is surrounded by rows of dingy gray marble pillars. We mourned the loss of the view of the fine pictures and rooms which we had read were upon the inside of the build- ing, but still felt that if we could not see those there were plenty of other things to fill up on, and proceeded to look at them with 143 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. as much energy as possible. We first sought the famous "Rialto Square," where the Mer- chant of Venice made his unhappy bargain. We walked for a long distance on the street called by this name, across a long and massive bridge similarly named, from which we de- scended upon an opening paved with stone and surrounded by booths w^here there were offered for sale all manner of vegetables, fruits and flowers. The little church referred to by Shakespeare is also there, but so dilap- « idated and decayed that it is not allowed to be used as a place of worship. There seemed to be families with large numbers of untidy children living in some portions of it. If I refer in an unduly large number of cases to the dirty and untidy children which we saw in Italy I must excuse myself by explaining that I was greatly impressed by them. I do not believe there are as many neglected look- ing children in the whole of the United States as we saw during our short sojourn in Italy. And there was certainly no excuse for it in Venice, where water was so much more abundant than soil. As we strolled about the Rialto, we scanned the faces of the passers by to see if we could discover anyone who 144 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. might be a descendant of the revengeful Shy- lock, or if perchance some young Antonio might be going that way. If we failed in this respect we at least saw a great number of other persons as well as things which were of decided interest to us. We returned to the "Piazza" and reached there just in time to see them feeding the doves. I have heard different stories about how this great army of doves came to infest the city of Venice, and to swoop dow r n upon this particular spot to be fed. All kinds of people were feeding them, some with corn, some with bread crumbs, and little children were scattering table scraps from plates. Many of the doves were quite tame, and approached us quite as eagerly as if we had been old inhabitants of the place. Our attention was now called to the pecu- liar manner in which some figures upon the top of the City Hall were accustomed to strike the hours. In the center of the group was a large bronze bell. The figures of a man and a woman stood upon opposite sides of the bell, each one of them holding a large bronze hammer. As it was just upon the stroke of eleven we waited to see what would happen. All at once the man raised his hammer and 145 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. struck the bell eleven times in succession. After the man had ceased to strike we were about to move away to other sights, when an Italian man who had been watching us began to gesticulate violently and point to the fig- ures again. We thought he was asking for money, and still insisted on going, when all at once the woman raised her hammer and began to strike the bell in the same measured tones. After that there was the "Campanile," that great bell tower which is known all over Europe. It occupies a prominent position on the Piazza, and is open to anyone who wishes to climb to its top. We had climbed to the top of everything there was so far, so we paid the fee to the woman at the door and began the ascent. There were no steps, but a grad- ual circular ascent. The path wound round and round the center, and it was not so diffi- cult as the climbing of stairs. The only dis- agreeable sensation was one of dizziness if we went too fast. The view from the top well repaid the work of climbing, even though the day was hot. We could see Venice as it really was. Water all around both near and far. It suggested to me how one of our western cities looked when overtaken by a flood, only 146 The story of a European toun. here everything was calm and peaceful and blue. The water was blue below and the sky was blue above, and the sun shining over all made a beautiful picture. A refreshing breeze bleAv across the open space where we stood, and we were near enough the great bell to touch it. It was with real reluctance that we took our last look upon Venice from the top of the Campanile and descended again by the circular path not exactly to "terra Anna" but to what corresponded to that term in this unique city. After this we were lured into the Venetian glass factory by an enter- prising runner for the same, who was on the lookout for victims. The exhibit was very in- teresting and tempting, but the prices were high and the articles were very frail, so we refrained from making any purchases in spite of the urgency of the attendant. We were, however, presented with a large glass bead, which had been made in our presence and upon which our initials had been placed. After we had received the bead we were in the embarrassing position of not knowing what to do with it. We felt that we ought to take it home as a souvenir, but it seemed so frail that we had no idea where to put it 147 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. in the very small luggage space which we had allowed ourselves for the trip. We finally packed it away in a box with some other trinkets, and worried about it for the rest of the journey. It was tougher than we thought, for when we reached home the precious bead was intact. It was kept on exhibition in the parlor for several weeks but has since dis- appeared, no one knows where. It will prob- ably turn up when house cleaning comes around. As we were packing up to leave Venice I pondered upon the uniqueness of many of the conditions here. One may be born, live and die there and never see either a horse or a cow. The inhabitants of this water city may spend a lifetime without ever stepping foot upon mother earth. I had a feeling that this failing to come in contact with the ground was what gave the people, especially the real old people, such u peculiar appearance. The color of the skin was a queer kind of gray, the eyes were dull and sunken. The hair seemed dry and hard, the bodies thin and emaciated. Their general appearance was that of bent and dilapidated chalk figures, prowling around as if moved by machinery. I have a firm and comfortable 148 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. conviction that that there are no people in the whole extent of the United States who look as did those old men and women whom we saw wandering about the streets of Venice. And if there were any here they would be properly cared for and not turned loose bare headed and bare footed upon the public highways. 149 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTER XV. THE DELIGHTS OF A VISIT TO FLORENCE. HOW WE REACHED THE CITY. It was just half-past two in the afternoon when we took the train from Venice to Flor- ence. No matter what else I may forget I will never forget that afternoon journey. I am sure that I should be excused from all charge of using slang when I declare in the first place that it was "hot." The fact of the matter really is that the word expresses but feebly the real state of the atmosphere and the sur- rounding conditions. No one who was not there can have any idea how hot it was. Al- though we were at the station nearly an hour before train time, we were so unfortunate as to get the sunny side of the car. Think of it! The sunny side of the car for all the long slow hours of an Italian afternoon. The style of the cars in Europe makes traveling there much less comfortable than in our country, and this difference is especially noticeable in hot w r eather. Each car being divided into 150 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. narrow compartments renders it impossible to get the benefit of any breeze. The compart- ment in which we were seated was packed full of Italians. To be sure they were very respectable and kind hearted Italians, but we were now far enough south so that the people with whom we came in contact bore all the peculiar characteristics of the country. The heat from the outside was made more uncom- fortable by the presence of so many heated persons within. They took off their coats and collars. We hastened to do the same. (When you are in Eome you must do as the Eomans do.) They got off at the stations and bought bottles of red wine and baskets of green gooseberries, (But here we did not apply the rule.) These they hospitably offered to us, but we shook our heads in polite refusal. It was not because we considered the refresh- ments inappropriate to the occasion that we refused, but because we felt delicate about accepting favors which we could not return. "And when," thought we, "could, this com- pany of people ever be treated to red wine and green gooseberries at our expense?" The train stopped fifty-five minutes in the city of Bologne. I confess that the name was 151 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. associated in my mind with the sansage which is so popular with a certain class in our country. But a short stroll in the vicinity of the station revealed nothing which suggested the usual horseshoe adornments of the butch- er's windows. The town appeared similar to the other towns in that country. Well ! All things on this earth must have an end, and so the hour did finally come when the ,sun with- drew the fierceness of his rays from our side of the car, our drooping minds and bodies re- vived, and life again seemed worth living. There were some beautiful twilight hours which compensated in some measure for the discomforts of the afternoon. Before leaving Venice we had been given the card of a cer- tain "Pension" in Florence. From the recom- mendations received we had decided to go there. But when we reached Florence-and alighted from the train we found ourselves \ / among a seething swarm of Italians, porters y and hoodlums who could not understand a word we said, but only knew that they wanted to get hold of our grip-sacks. It would have been much the most sensible course to abandon our original plan and go to the nearest hotel. I cannot now explain how 152 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. it happened, but some way in trying to get away from the crowd of importunate assist- ants w T e found ourselves out in the darkness of the unknown city, fairly set upon by an army of them. No one knew about the "Pen- sion" we spoke about, and from our actions we must have thought that we would be miraculously guided to it. As we passed through some gates just off from the station, we were literally pounced upon by a person who had not appeared before and almost dragged into an adjacent building. This man and all of his assistants were talking loudly all the time and gesticulating fiercely, but Ave were none the wiser for that. I remember that my husband exclaimed, "Take your hands off of me," but they only gripped him the tighter, and I followed meekly along after him. He was furious at being pulled about in this fashion, but I w T as beginning to be scared. I remembered that we were in Italy and that it was night, and our friends were far away across the ocean. A wild vision of dungeons and tortures flashed through my mind. The little fat Italian before whom we were taken was not quite so fierce as the rest had been, and seemed to appreciate our em- 153 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. barrassment. After much talking and gestic- ulating we at last discovered that what they wanted was to examine our baggage and to see if we were carrying any prohibited arti- cles. Our valises were accordingly opened, examined and closed, and we went o'ut into the darkness again, temporarily relieved. We walked on for some time without suc- cess. Finally we were fortunate enough to meet a man who although he could not talk English seemed to understand what was said. A passing boy was hailed, our baggage was given into his hands and we were soon breath- lessly pursuing him. We could tell but little about where we were going on account of the darkness, and I confess that I was fearful that everything was not all right. But there was nothing else to be done then, as the boy had our belongings. At -last he stopped in front of a large bare stone building and rang the bell. After a long period of waiting the door was slowly opened just wide enough to admit the card which we were carrying from the people in Venice. When the card had been fully inspected we were admitted 1 and the boy dismissed. Then, oh joy! Oh, rap- ture! The young handmaiden who opened 154 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. the door could speak English! So our troubles were ended for that night. The com- ing of the morning revealed the fact that we were in a most delightful Italian boarding house. The lady in charge could also speak English. She was not Italian, but Hungar- ian, and as she seemed sympathetic we un- burdened to her some of our trials and also our unbiased opinion of the Italians in gen- eral. "I suppose/' I explained, "that it is because we do not understand their language that they seem so stupid to us." "Oh, no," she replied. "It is not that at all. It is because they are stupid. I under- stand their language perfectly and I often find it impossible to make them comprehend what I mean." While wandering through the large halls, balconies and grounds of the "Pension" we learned that we were in the home formerly occupied by the author, Anthony Trollope, and where he wrote many of his books. The establishment continued to bear the name which it had received in his honor, "The Pen- sion de Trollope." To live in such a delight- ful place would certainly be an inspiration in 155 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. itself. As we started out the next morning for an exploration of the art treasures of this wonderful city we traced with interest our route of the night before. The memories which cluster around our brief stay in Florence are among the most distinct and the most delightful of the trip. Still, there is no part which I feel so incapable of describing. There was so much to see and so little time in which to see it. We made a herculean effort and grasped all we could. Although threatened at the time with mental and physical prostration, I am truly thankful for the energy which we were able to put forth at that time. I had read so much and dreamed so often of Florence that I was over- awed by the mere thought of being there, be- fore I had seen a single one of the historic buildings or wonderful art treasures with which the city abounds. The delights and triumphs of the visit served to obliterate all uncomfortable memories of preceding events. One of our American essayists declares "There is no modern city about which cluster so many elevating associations, none in which the past is so contemporary with us in un- changed buildings and unchanged monu- 156 I THE STORY OF A ECROPEAN TOUR. ments, and the great triumvirate of Italian poetry, good sense and culture called her mother." And yet, though we know that Flor- ence was the "cradle of the renaissance," as well as a "beacon light of history," we could not forget about Savonarola, his dreadful torture and cruel death, and all the other painful things which have happened there. Florence! In whose book have been written some of the darkest as well as some of the brightest pages of human history. When we think of the long centuries it has taken to make it we feel that a life time would be too short a time in which to study it. It is not difficult to realize what Dante must have suffered during his years of exile from it. Neither do we wonder that the Brownings found their home there so delightful, nor that Mrs. Browning w T as willing to have this her last resting place, though now so widely sepa- rated from that of her illustrious husband who rests in Westminster Abbey. Just to be in Florence and to think over the past was a memorable experience. What we were able to see will stand out clearly as a reminder that "when we go again" we will plan to have time enough to see these all over again and 157 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUfi. many others as well. Our rendezvous for the day was the well known "Piazza della Sig- noria," The 'buses from all over the city meet there, and one finds many beautiful things to enjoy while he may be waiting. The 'bus line ran by the door of the "Pension de Trollope," and we soon found ourselves rolling along streets and past buildings which were asso- ciated with the most important historical events. Alighting in the square just men- tioned the first thing to attract my attention was the building which we decided must be the famous "Loggia de Lanzi." It is really not a building at all in the sense in which that word is ordinarily used, but a very deep and wide porch. From the American standpoint, there was no use for it at all, for the use to which it was put was not practical. It was at that particular time serving as a retreat for those two types, so constantly found side by side in Italy, and yet contrasting so vivid- ly: masterpieces of Italian art and unwashed Italian idlers. It detracted decidedly from my enjoyment of the statuary to see the steps which ran across the back of the porch filled with the individuals referred to lying around in various postures sound asleep. 158 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. Our faithful guide book, to which we invar- iably turned when there was any puzzling question to be settled, failed us entirely at this point, so we had to pass on, not knowing who these sleeping men were, or why they were there. But as I said before, this com- bination of superior art and inferior human- ity, was one which we became more familiar with before our stay in Italy was over. My thoughts ran back to some of the art galleries which I had visited in our American cities, notably New York and Washington. And although admission to these places is entirely without expense, it is utterly impossible for me to imagine how it would seem to see ragged men with pipes falling out of their mouths lying about upon the seats. I am aware that a description of Florence would be more pleasant, which left out all these dis- agreeable details, and only spoke of the beau- tiful things. But a chronicle of impressions cannot rightfully do so. I was glad to learn as I did later that the beautiful "Loggia" was originally built as a gathering place for the citizens, who met there to discuss the public affairs of Florence. If, as some people claim, beauty is synonymous with right, the govern- 159 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. merit of Florence must have been well car- ried on when the plans for it were laid in so beautiful a place. I learned that this build- ing or portico had been standing for over five centuries, and probably some of the stat- uary has been there for an equal length of time. In spite of its weather worn appear- ance, it is very beautiful. It was within this square that Savonarola was tortured and burned, but Ave were not able to learn whether any of the fountains or statues which abounded marked the exact spot of the trag- edy. The most conspicuous group of statuary was that of Hercules and Oacus, by the fa- mous sculptor Bandinelli. There was also a fountain with a figure by Veroechio>, and I re- member that we lingered for some time at the base of these two particular pieces of art, talking of Savonarola and the circumstances which were called to mind by his name. As our sightseeing in this locality continued we learned how thoroughly many of its scenes were associated with the name of this noted reformer. For we next turned our steps to the "Palazza Vecchio," which was the old cap- itol of the republic, and afterwards the home 160 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. of the Medici family. It is described as an example of the Florentine castle of the mid- dle ages, and within its old and weather stained walls have transpired many of the most important events of Florentine history. A lofty tower rises far above the main build- ing. It was within a chamber in this tower that Savonarola was imprisoned and from which he w r as taken to his death. But of all the things connected with the "old palace" my mind turns the most frequently and the most distinctly to the wonderful statue of Savonarola by Passaglio, which stands in an elevated position at one end of the long apart- ment now called the "Hall." The apartment is entirely empty, but it does not seem so, for the spirit and presence of the great man who presides over it by day and by night seems to pervade it. The statue is colossal. The monk stands there in the robes of his order, wearing upon his head the conventional hood. His left hand rests upon the head of a lion, while in his right he holds a crucifix on high. The head is slightly bent forward, and such a look of intensity as is fixed upon those stern features and gleams out of those marble eyes I have never before or since seen impressed 161 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. upon inanimate stone. The lips are parted as if in speech, and one can almost hear those burning words which were ringing through Florence during the life time of the man. As we lingered in this room, loath to remove our eyes from the statue, we came to realize for ourselves something of the power which art is able to gain over the human heart. 162 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTER XVI. RARE PLEASURE AMONG THE GREAT MASTERPIECES OF ART. After the "Palazza VeccHio" the traveler quite naturally turns his steps to the threshold of the "Uffizi Gallery," whith also opens upon the "Piazza della Signoria." This gallery was founded by the Medici, and contains one of the largest and rarest collections of art in the world. It has been said that in order to get the most good out of an inspection of an art gallery one should look at the pictures for a while and then repair to the outer air for a season, then return for a brief period, and so on. This is an excellent plan, and would no doubt do well for those who have an unlim- ited number of francs and an unlimited amount of time at their disposal. But Ave were obliged to adapt ourselves to our own circumstances, which did not in all respects correspond to the ideal ones just stated. As my mind returns to that vast maze of halls, passages and alcoves, I am impressed 163 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. with the belief that it is impossible for any one to describe them in such a way as to give a definite idea of the arrangement to a per- son who has not been there. I remember the "Mobe" room. This was easy to do, because there was nothing in it except groups of stat- uary, single statues and parts of statues of Niobe and her children. It makes a peculiar impression to see so many representations of the same thing in # one place. There are mas- terpieces of great interest and importance throughout the entire building, but I might as well come at once to the "Tribune," which has been called the "Holy of Holies" of this holy place. This is an octagonal apartment of not unusual size. The most precious treas- ures of all the gallery have been gathered there, and it has been said that no room of a similar size in all the world contains so many masterpieces as does this one. The room itself is most beautifully decorated, and the material in its walls is worth many thou- sands of dollars. We decided that our wisest course would be to stay right here and try to get something of a lasting impression of what was in this room rather than spread out over the entire building, and see so much that we 164 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. could remember nothing. It is probably on this account that I retain a better idea of it than of any other collection visited. Prob- ably the "Venus de Medici" is the most noted of anything there. It is not because I en- joyed it most that I mention it first. Possibly I was disappointed because it was so small. A person who is still a novice in art is no doubt apt to appreciate the magnificent and grand before he does the subtle and delicate. I looked at the "Venus" as long as I felt it my duty to do so, reviewed in my mind its re- markable history, tried to realize how for- tunate I was to be able to' see the original of this piece of statuary of which so many copies both in marble and in print abound, and then turned to the contemplation of other things from which I was able to derive more real en- joyment. The "Dancing Faun" and espe- cially the "Wrestlers" attracted me. But after all, it was the paintings in the "Tri- bune" which drew me back again and again. There was "La Fornerina," by Raphael. We were now getting to the best of Raphael's pic- tures. As I studied that soft flesh tint, and looked into those sad eyes, I wondered why nature had given but one Raphael to the 165 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. world. Why cannot other people paint in that way? When I realized how much it meant to me to see these things I felt sorry for the hosts of others who would never be able to do so. Or, if painters of this rank were more numerous would their paintings give less pleasure? You can fairly feel the warmth of that delicate hand as you look at it, and the robe about the shoulders is of such mar- velous beauty. The strong, young face of "St. John in the Desert" was near by, and the "Madonna clella Cardellino" with her two little boys by her side was wonderfully sweet. These were all by Raphael. There was the "Virgin Adoring Her Child," in which the child lies upon the ground and the mother bends gracefully over it. This last picture is Correggio's. The paintings of Michael Angelo which are found in this room did not attract me. They seemed stiff and stern beside the softness of Raphael. I inspected them carefully and conscientious- ly on account of the greatness of the artist. There w r ere the "Nativity" and a "Holy Fam- ily" by Angelo, and others which I do not re- call so distinctly. There was that sweet up- turned face which Carlo Dulci has painted, 166 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. known as "Santa Lucia," There was the "An- nunciation" by Da Vinci, and world re- nowned pictures by Titian and Kubens, Tin- toretto and others. I remember that when we went into the "TJffizi Gallery" we were told that we went directly from this into the gallery of the "Pitti Palace." But I saw after- wards that I had not at all appreciated what this meant, for the "Pitti Palace" is on the other side of the Kiver Arno. When I had exhausted the time allotted for the inspection of the former gallery I found my way back to the door leading to the latter one, passed into a narrow dimly lighted passageway, and proceeded to walk on and on for some time. My husband at this point decided that he had seen pictures enough, and so I was left to con- tinue the inspection alone. I remember that I was the only person in the passageway, and that I could only see a short distance before and behind me. I felt very lonesome and funny, but even then did not realize that I was crossing the second story of a bridge, viz: the "Ponte Vecchio," the oldest of the six bridges which crosses the Arno. Every inch of the wall was covered with paintings, and I wondered and wondered why they had built 167 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. an art gallery in that shape, and hung fine pictures where the light was so poor that no one could see them. Afterwards I enjoyed a good laugh at my own simplicity, but com- forted myself with the thought that I had learned something that morning. The pic- tures upon the walls of the bridge are mostly of kings and queens. I remember just two of them. And these I recall on account of my previous associations with their person- ality, rather than on account of the beauty or excellence of the painting. They were the faces of Catherine de Medici and Oliver Cromwell. The square white forehead which rose with so much dignity above the wide white ruff about the neck of Catherine de Medici seemed to suit the eyes, which would not have looked wicked to me if I had not known the story of her life. I lingered before the strong face of Cromwell, with its long hair and dark eyes, because he is one of my favorites among all of England's great men. When a few moments later I emerged into the "Pitti Gallery"itself, I found that there was a "Holy of the Holies" there also. This was the room where hung the picture which was the most beautiful of anv which I had 168 THE ST(5RY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. seen up to that time, ranking next, as it se^ms to me, to the famous "Sistine." I refer to the "Madonna della Sedia"of Raphael. An Ameri- can girl with whom I fell into conversation in this room said that there were more single masterpieces in this room than in any other room in the world. This seemed to me to dis- credit what had been asserted of the "Tri- bune" in the gallery just left, but one is at liberty to take his choice in the matter. But I have since heard it said in reference to this room that if all the other art galleries in the world should be wiped out but this, the world would still be rich in art. But, as compara- tively few of the art lovers of the world are able to get a peep into this remarkable room, I am very grateful that the other art galleries are not wiped out. I remember most distinctly "Cleopatra," by Guido Beni, a "Sacred Fam- ily," by Raphael, and a "Virgin and Child," by Murillo. I recognized the soft pinks and blues which I had seen in the copies of this artist and also the soft light which the copies do not really show, but only suggest. A •"Magdalene," by Titian, haunted me for a long time. While standing before the wonderful "Ma- donna della Sedia" I was suddenly seized 169 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. with an intense desire to possess it. I was surprised in this feeling, for we had by this time seen a number of the world's most famous pictures, and I had experienced no similar sensation in regard to them. I had been thankful for the opportunity of seeing them, but was quite reconciled to leaving them where they were. This "Madonna" it- self is small, not too large for the walls of the average private house, and its beauty is en- hanced by the magnificent gold frame in which it is placed. It is fixed upon hinges like a door so that it may be moved back and forth and thus brought into the best possible light. As I stood there it seemed as if my life would be infinitely happier if I could look at that picture (not a copy of it) the last thing before retiring at night, and if when I wak- ened during the dark hours I could feel that it was near me. Before leaving the gallery I dis- covered a small room packed full of copies of this and other masterpieces to be found in the different halls. Many of these have been done by celebrated modern artists and are for sale. I made the mental declaration that when I again visited the "Pitti Gallery" I should be 170 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. prepared both from the artistic and financial standpoint to bring away the best copy of the "Madonna della Sedia" which I could find. I was always extremely interested in the people whom Ave found copying the pictures in these galleries. I imagined that they all had histories of their own, and no doubt some of them were the great artists of the future. T observed that they were invariably sensi- tive about having visitors look at their work. I confess that I usually took a sly peep when the painter in question was not looking. It was very interesting to compare the copy with the original. As I passed out of the gallery I was allured into a most attractive little picture store, where were offered for sale copies in black and white of all the beautiful things which I had been seeing. Of course I invested, thinking thus to carry away a more lasting impression of what I had seen. But when I came to look at these copies in the quiet of our room I was sorry I had them, because they fell so far short of my then fresh recol- lection of the originals. After luncheon I made an inventory of the things which I wanted to see before night. 171 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. First and foremost upon the list I placed Michael Angelo's statue of "David" and the church of "San Lorenzo." This church had been an interesting spot to me ever since I knew it contained the tombs of the Medici adorned by the statues of "Day and Mght" and "Morning and Evening," executed by An- gelo. I learned that the "David" stood for a great many years in the open space in front of the "Palazzo Vecchio." But partly, no doubt because the elements were beginning to tell upon it, and partly because there was an opportunity to turn an honest penny, it has now been removed to a building known as the "Academy of Fine Arts." Here it stands, most advantageously placed in the center of a large hall which is lighted from the top. It is the wonder and delight of all who visit it. I cannot describe the statue or the feeling which overcame me when my eyes first rested upon it. Pictures of it abound, and I had seen a number of them, but this is one of the things which cannot be shown in a picture. The statue represents a young man, and is much more than life size. As I looked at it, elevated upon its pedestal, it suddenly came 172 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. to embody for me all that was grand, sym- metrical, perfect in the human form. Very seldom in my life have I had the experience of seeing anything which seemed to me per- fect. For a few brief seconds I felt as if all of my previous life had been lived as a prepa- ration for this one experience. I had never known before that intensity of pleasure aroused by the recognition of perfection. I looked through the rest of the gallery, but the paintings did not interest me. They were by Cimebue, Fra Angelico and other early mas- ters, and from the historical standpoint were no doubt of great importance. But the con- ventional still hands folded closely over the stiff breasts, and the faded hair combed back from the stiff brows, failed to arouse even the semblance of a thrill. I went back and sat down where I could get the best possible view of my David, for it was mine from now on, and sat there until the custodian of the building came to tell me it was time to close. I then started in search of the Church of San Lorenzo, which according to my direc- tions was but a few blocks from here. I soon came to what I learned afterwards was the rear portion of it. But it was built up so 173 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. solidly that I could not get to the front of it without going around several blocks, and in doing this I lost my way. I tried to ask directions from the people whom I met upon the street, but with poor success. I de- manded "Duomo San Lorenzo" and was di- rected to half a dozen different churches, all of which when I reached them proved to be ordinary cathedrals, about which I cared nothing. I nearly gave up in despair several times, and surely would have done so but for the fact that I had looked forward to seeing this particular church during the entire journey. At one place a beautiful little Ital- ian boy was delegated to pilot me to the de- sired spot. Dear little fellow! I can still see the look of disappointment which clouded those large brown eyes when I scolded him because he had taken me to the wrong church. But I was getting desperate thinking of all the time I was losing. At last I found myself in front of the long sought edifice. I tried the door, and my heart sank with- in me when I discovered that it was loeked. A man driving past in a wagon, seeing my evident distress, rattled off a lot of words in Italian and held up four 174 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. fingers. I had no idea what he meant, and just then it occurred to me to look in my guide book. Alas! I understood it all, but it was too late. The church closed at four o'clock and it was now after five. How true is the old adage, "What the head does not do, the feet must." Well, there was still time to see "Giotto's Tower," which is one of the most beautiful in Italy; some declare it to be the most beautiful. Then there was the "Baptistry" contain- ing the celebrated bronze doors of Ghiberti, and the cathedral opposite to it, which is really one of the most important buildings in Florence. The cathedral did not impress me. Perhaps this was because I was too near it. But there was not time to seek a spot from which I might see it in all its magnificent proportions. I think many travelers experi- ence this difficulty in seeing the fine buildings of Europe. You naturally go to them at once, but when you are there you can see nothing but the door. Sometimes you can obtain a better view of how they look from a picture. It took Ghiberti forty years to make these bronze doors. They are covered with biblical scenes in bronze relief. They are wonderful, 175 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. but I was not able to see the beauty in them which others have seen. And that evening we left Florence. As the train rolled away in the darkness my soul cried out within me to think of the beautiful things which we were leaving. But most of all I wanted to go back again and look at the "Madonna della Sedia." As I dozed away during the long hours of the night I seemed to be wandering in shady groves, such as we saw upon the banks of the Ehine. All around under the trees were standing statues of David, and sweet Ma- donna faces were looking down at me from among the branches. Perfect nature, and per- fect art! They speak to us with voices that are more than human if we only have ears to hear. 176 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTER XVII. REACH THE ETERNAL CITY. ST. PETER'S. "All roads lead to Rome!" While the cir- cumstances under which this sentiment held good have long since passed away, we had assurance that there was one road of which it still was true, for early on the following morning the train in which we were sitting rolled into the very heart of the "Eternal City." The environment of the railway sta- tion was not essentially different from that of other cities which are not eternal, with the exception perhaps that it was the least clean of any place which we had visited. It was quite early in the morning when we arrived, but even then was very uncomfortably warm. By the time we had secured a place at which to "put up" we were so hot and tired that we felt like taking a few minutes just to com- plain about it. But we reflected that we could complain about the heat most any time, and now that we were in Rome we must see St. Peter's. I speak of the cathedral in 177 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. this way, because in traveling around from one city to another as we were doing there is always one thing in each place which you would wish to see most, if you could see but one. We were wont to w T hile away some of the tedious hours of railway travel by debat- ing this question with reference to the city which was to be our next stopping place. I remember that we often became quite excited over it, more so than was really necessary considering that we always could see more than one thing. When we came to talk of Rome there were so many things which we wanted to see "if we could see but one" that we never quite succeeded in coming to a con- clusion. I noticed that it seemed to be taken for granted that we should go to St. Peter's first. Before reaching Borne we had decided that while feasting upon its many objects of his- toric interest we would not humiliate our- selves by asking our way of people who could not or would not understand what we meant. This uncomfortable condition we were going to avoid by consulting a map of the city which we had secured. So, after we had care- fully sought for and found the location of the 178 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. wonderful church-, we discovered that we could easily reach it by means of the street car. We betook ourselves to the street and hailed the first car Avhich seemed to be going in the proper direction, It was right here that one of those ridiculous little things happened which make one feel exceedingly small. It made me feel so, although if the cathedrals with which my head was crammed had been put one on top of another they would certainly have reached almost to heaven. While waiting for the car it had been suggested that we see what street the hotel was on, so that if we should get lost in our wanderings we might find our way back again. So, glancing up at one of the build- ings near, I read aloud the words which I saw written there in large and conspicuous lettering. "Prohibite Faffissione." "All right/' I said. "This street is 'Prohibite Paf- fissione.' Shall I write it down or can we re- member it?" My husband said he thought he could remember it, and that I need not write it down. He pretended afterwards that lie saw the joke all the time, but he has never been able to convince me that he really did. Fortunately, the language of signs is the 179 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. same in all countries, so we had no trouble in stopping the car. Soon the car turned into another street, and what was my surprise to learn that this street was also marked "Prohi- bite l'affissione." A third street also bore the same legend. "What does this mean?" I asked. "Is this the same street all the time, although it does seem to zigzag s.o?" There was a twinkle in the eyes of the person to whom this question was addressed, and then the light came to my mind. Not slowly, as when rosy fingered morn rises from her couch, and so forth, but suddenly, like a tremendous flash of lightning. And I — well — I looked around for an aperture sufficiently small to hide my shrinking form. "Prohibite l'affis- sione" is the simple Italian for "post no bills." I did not forget it after that. We had been moving on all this time, faster than I am getting on with my story, and very soon the car stopped and we discovered that it was going no farther. It was that busy and interesting spot known as the "Piazza Vene- zia." This reminds me of what I had thought of a number of times before, viz.: that the word "piazza" had heretofore been associated in mv mind with the shed like attachment 180 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. t: usually adjacent to the American front door. But in Borne, the word is applied to the large open squares which abound throughout the city, and are used as the centers of business of different kinds. If it had been in this country the conductor would have announced, "All change cars." But no one did so in Borne, and we got off because the rest of the people in the car did so. St. Peter's was nowhere to be seen, so we judged that we must take another car, but which one? We had not .counted upon this circumstance when we had decided to ask no directions. We were about to hastily adapt ourselves to the conditions and demand "Du- omo San Pietro," when a car so labeled drew up to the spot. For once they did things right in Borne, and we were soon upon our way again without having broken our resolve. I kept forgetting to look out on the street, which, by the way, was the "Via Nazionale," but found myself continually looking at the people who were in the car and those who from time to time sot off and on. The thought which was passing through my mind, and which continued to do so during the days we were here, was: "And this is Borne! And 181 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. these are Romans! Why, in that other day to be a Koman was greater than a king." We crossed the Tiber, and as I looked at its yel- low waters I thought of the boys at school who used to declare so heroically : "Oil Tiber, Father Tiber, to whom the Romans pray, A Roman's life, a Roman's arms take thou in charge this day." It must have been a much wider stream "When Horatius kept the bridge," for it looks now as if a person could almost wade across it. The car passed very near to the castle of "St. Angelo," one of the most interesting buildings in Rome. I was not familiar with its history when I first saw the building, but was so attracted by it that I looked it up, and was well repaid for doing so. It is circu- lar in form, rising as it does just beyond one of the prettiest bridges in Rome. It is still beautiful, in spite of the ravages of time and the barbarian hosts. Within a very few minutes after we had passed the castle of St. Angelo we found ourselves literally in the "arms of St, Peter." The circular pil- lared porticos- which extend out on each side of the door give one the feeling 182 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. that the great church has arms. Upon the right as you look at it, stands the Vatican-, that building which has played so large a part in the history of the world, attached as it were to one of the elbows. I imagine that if one could get up into the air and look down upon St. Peter's it would have the appear- ance of a large cross -with a pair of huge claws extending out from its foot and a bunch on its elbow. The first impression which came to me when my eyes rested upon the, noted structure was that I had seen it before. We had the universal experience of not finding it so large as we thought it would be. On ac- count of its very size, the dome is so far from the door that it is not seen to advantage from the front, and it is from the rear that its real gigantic proportions loom up. We passed through the wide portico and entered the church. The atmosphere was cool, even chilly, after the intense heat of the morning sun. The "dim religious light" which was all that was admitted by the heavily stained glass windows, gave an added effect to the sense of distance which lay stretched out before our eyes as we turned toward the center of the building. Immensity rather than beauty, was 183 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. my first thought. Everything is so remark- ably large that the sense of beauty is almost overshadowed while trying to grasp the gen- eral effect. As was suggested before, the church, on account of its position and shape, does not seem as large as it really is. Other cathedrals which are much smaller, for ex- ample, those at Milan or Cologne, compare fa- vorably with St. Peter's in size because they stand where they can be seen as a whole. But when it comes to the inside, there is nothing like the great cathedral of Rome. One thing which made it seem very large was that there were no seats of any kind to be seen. We had at that time no means of knowing why this was the case, or upon what occasions seats were used. Slowly and silently we walked up the great center aisle. The details were not essentially different from those of other ca- thedrals, but it was the largeness and white- ness of everything which impressed us. At stated intervals along the aisles there were altars surmounted by beautiful paintings. But the glory of it all is the magnificent altar, which is situated directly under the dome. We did not hurry to reach the center, but lin- gered along, taking our time to inspect the 184 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. statuary and paintings, which are on all sides. I understand that there are several hundred statues and as many paintings within these vast walls. The historic bronze statue of St. Peter himself, the great toe of w T hich is partly worn aw^ay by the devoted kisses of his mil- lions of followers held our attention for some time. In front of the altar is an opening, where, by descending a short flight of stairs, the visitor is shown what the guide declares to be the caskets containing the actual bodies of Peter and Paul. A pair of gilded doors are unlocked, but the caskets are protected by a heavy iron grating. I w^as much impressed by the colossal figure of a kneeling pope, which faces the entrance to the tomb of the saints, We were so close as to be able to touch this figure, and could realize how much larger it was than the ordinary man. Statues of the different popes stand in alcoves. They are very large, and the workmanship fine. I felt, as they stood there with outstretched hands, that those hands of marble still wielded a portion of the mighty influence which the living ones had done. As we roamed about the church, which we visited as often as possible during the stay 185 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. here, I tried to fix certain facts in my mind with reference to it, The church was begun in the year 90 A. D. upon the supposed site of the grave of the apostle Peter. I did not try to remember the names of the persons who have added to it or torn it down since that time. Michael Angelo planned the pres- ent dome, which was to surmount the church in the shape of a Greek cross. But a later architect remodeled it into the shape of a Latin cross, thus placing the dome so great a distance from the front as to spoil the effect of it from that position. As this is the largest church in the w^orld, I felt that it would be worth while to try and retain some of the actual figures in connection with its measure- ments. Its total length is 696 feet (corresponding very nearly to tw^o blocks, including streets and alleys, upon our ordinary streets), and it is 450 feet across the transepts. The diameter of the dome is 138 feet, and its extreme height is 435 feet. The cost of the main building is estimated at $50,000,000. We were not able to visit the "village upon the roof," made up of small houses occupied by custodians and workmen of the church, although we desired very much to do so. 186 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. The galleries of the Vatican, which adjoin the church, include those devoted to painting, and those devoted to sculpture. The former, including the Sistine Chapel, may be entered from the circular portico at the front of the building. But the sculpture gallery opens in a most peculiar manner from an alley at the extreme rear of the church. You do not re- alize the size of St. Peter's until you are obliged to Avalk entirely around it. This walk w^ell repays the effort for this reason, and also because a fine view of the magnificent dome may thus be secured. There is a long, grad- ually ascending hall to be traversed before reaching the rooms full of pictures. The en- trance to the hall is guarded by a group of men wearing very striking costumes. As I remember it, the costume consisted of a pair of very loose, baggy knickerbockers and blouse of bright yellow, with a stripe of scar- let in here and there. The head was adorned men wearing very striking costumes. As I re- member it, the costume consisted of a pair of very loose, baggy knickerbockers and blouse of bright yellow, with a stripe of scarlet let in here and there. The head was adorned with a large "Tarn O'Shanter" of the same 187 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. material. We went through a large number of rooms and halls, but I remember best the Sistine Chapel, and the series of rooms con- taining the mural paintings by Eaphael and his pupils. The Sistine Chapel is not of extraordinary size, but is noted among other things for the "History of the Creation/' which Michael An- gelo has left upon the ceiling, and the marvel- ous conception of the "Last Judgment'' which adorns the entire end of the room, by the same artist. The figures of the prophets and sybils in the alcoves above the windows at- tract much admiration. The history of how these paintings came to be done is most inter- esting, but much too long to be reviewed here. There is almost no furniture in the room, which leaves the mind of the visitor entirely free to be devoted to the examination and en- joyment of the paintings. Those upon the ceiling are seen to better advantage by the use of a hand glass, as the neck soon becomes weary with the unsual exertion of holding the head back, and the eyes soon rebel against the unnatural strain of looking up. It is very in- teresting to accompany the inspection of the pictures with the printed description of them. 188 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. For though one may have carefully studied them beforehand, it is difficult to fully under- stand them without a description on the spot. The "Last Judgment," which depicts the imagined condition of spirits in another world, is so vivid as to be terrible. We found, however, that the finger of time had been laid upon it, with the usual effect that it is dim and in some places beginning to chip off. After a tour of the Sistine Chapel we went to the rooms known as the "Stanze of Raphael." Among the famous pictures to be seen there I remember best "Parnassus," "The School of Athens" and "The Vision of Attila." Then Ave passed on to that room which contains the three pictures than which there are no more renowned and beautiful in the world. They are all by Raphael. First and foremost is the "Transfiguration" (the last painting exe- cuted by this artist.) Next is the "Madonna di Foligno," and third, "The Last Communion of St. Jerome." This last picture is one which must be seen in order to be appreciated. There are pictures, copies of which represent them fairly well. Not so here. The copies of this pic- ture which I had seen never meant anything to me, although I had always read that it was 189 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN f OUR. one of the world's most famous pictures. It is the expression upon the face of the dying saint which takes hold upon the mind, and refuses to be forgotten. There is aspiration, inspiration, transfiguration, but none of these words really describe it, And it is just this indescribable something which is everything to the picture that the copies of it fail utterly to touch. The "Transfiguration" is most beau- tiful. It is the face of the ascending Christ in this painting which holds the attention while looking at it, and clings to the mind after leaving it. These pictures become more and more beautiful the more they are seen, and Ave returned to them as often as possible during our stay in Rome. After the gallery of paintings came the sculpture gallery. In order to reach this lat- ter collection, one is obliged to pass down and out of the long passageway again, past the gaily clothed guards at the door, and around the entire building. It occurs to every one to wonder at this inconvenient arrange- ment. I could think of no reason except the desire to impress the strangers with the idea of the size of the church. We were certainly impressed as Ave should not have been other- 190 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. wise, for the day was hot each time Ave went there, and it seemed that we should never reach the end of the journey. The sculpture is beautifully arranged, the most important pieces being in rooms by themselves. After having looked at art works a good deal, one realizes how much it means to have one thing in a room by itself. It is next to impossible for the mind, especially when somewhat wearied, to hold itself to the contemplation of a single piece, when other beautiful things are in close proximity. The "Apollo Belvedere" is probably the best known of any piece of statuary in the Vatican. The "Lao-coon" is there, but that is something of which I have always had a hor- ror, and so in spite of its beauty I hurried past it w T ith only a glance. The "Boxers" is fine, and there are rooms and rooms full of the most beautiful things, some of which I re- member in detail, and others of which I only remember in the mass. After leaving the gal- lery we were obliged to walk way around the building again before we could get away from it, but this gave us another look at the foun- tains and the obelisk, which add so much to the beauty of the circular enclosure in front. 191 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTER XVIII. THE CAPITOLINE HILL. FORUM AND COLOSSEUM. IN- TERESTING EXPERIENCES. Next among the objects of interest in Rome after the great cathedral came the "Capito- liqe Hill." From the historical standpoint, this is the most important of the seven hills npon which Rome sat in the days of her power. The summit of this hill was reached by climbing a long flight of steps. When the top was reached we found a square sur- rounded by buildings, every one of which was richly fraught with historical interest. In ; the center of the square stands the world fa- mous equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius, and to one side are the statues of Constantino and his son, which we were told once stood belowbythe"Arch of Constantine." Of course everything has been changed many times since the "Gapitollne Hill" was in its glory. Still, we easily lent ourselves to the spell of the moment, and gladly believed that we were looking upon the original and terrible 192 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. "Tarpeian Bock," from which traitors and other criminals were hnrled down to their death, and which received its name from the unfortunate "Tarpeia." There is a building called the "Capitol/' but at the present time it is only used for relics of "Ancient Rome." There is a museum in another of the build- ings. It seemed to me, after a tour of it, that there was much material there which was neither valuable nor interesting, but was simply kept there as a filling for the few things which were really fine. There were three pieces which repaid me for the time spent upon the whole. These were the "Dying Gaul," the "Capitoline Venus" and the "Mar- ble Faun." It is this latter statue which gave the name to Hawthorne's famous romance. The "Dying Gaul" is a wonderful creation. Every detail of the great masculine frame is perfect, and the expression upon the face is remarkable. In this building is found the room contain- ing nothing but "Busts of Emperors." But by this time I was so tired of "busts of emper- ors" that I felt that I never wanted to see another. In the first place, the emperors (with the possible exception of Julius Caesar) are 193 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. none of them good looking. And many of the faces seemed a simple repetition of the heavy, sodden features, double chin and flabby cheeks. A study in psychology would have revealed something of the wicked thoughts and passions which had contributed to the moulding of those unlovely features now set forever in marble. I did not feel it my duty •to so punish myself as to look at them, and so taking one peep at the long rows of them, I hastened away to scenes less depressing. And now, at last, we have finished our sightseeing upon the top of the hill, and have turned to where we can look out upon the old "Koman Forum." The Forum itself is sur- rounded by interesting ruins, while just be- yond it rise the walls of the stately "Colos- seum." I had wondered so many times how the Forum and its surroundings would look that it was hard for me to realize that it was the actual and not the imaginary "Ancient Koine" upon which I was gazing. There is a large tract of ground, a number of feet lower than the surrounding portions, out of which at various intervals rise arches, pillars and walls in various stages of decay. It is quite evident that they were 194 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. "built to stay/' or even " these frag- ments would n6t remain after so many centu- ries to tell the story of that wonderful civiliz- ation. Some of these things were built be- fore Christ came to earth, although many of the most remarkable ones came into being in the first centuries of the Christian era. Some new old things are being found all the time, and at that time there were men and teams at work seeking for the buried treasures of the long departed days. The objects which appear in the guide books and in pictures as "temples" of different gods, such as Saturn, Castor and Pollux, and others, are in reality crumbling pillars which might have been used to sustain porches or projecting roofs of actual temples. The ruins are often held to- gether by iron bands of very modern appear- ance. The great arches, notably those of Sep- timus Severus, Drusus and Constantine, are most interesting, because they bear upon their sides the history of the various achieve- ments of the people in w-hose honor they were built. These stories written in marble im- pressed me greatly. A part of the ancient city is surrounded by a fence. As we were strolling along the road which winds around 195 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. it, inspecting the different points of interest, we came to an open gate. As there seemed to be nothing to prevent, we were about to go down and obtain a close view of the ruins. Suddenly an Italian popped out from some- where and demanded "One franc each." "One franc each," we laughingly repeated. This we have found to be the watchword of the country. And such is the case. Wherever there is an interesting bit of ruin these people who have but scant idea, if any, of its value, put up a fence and demand "one franc each." We decided that w r e could enjoy the ruins just as well from the outside, so we kept our "one franc each." A little farther along upon this same road we were suddenly moved as by one impulse to look behind us. No one had touched us, but there was a feeling as if some one w r as very near. We turned none too soon, for close upon us was an Italian woman, bareheaded and slouchy. In her hand she carried a kind of flat wire coil, something like a large watch spring. We had turned so sud- denly that she had no time to conceal the ob- ject, with which, doubtless;, she was about to abstract- something from our pockets. She appeared rather more provoked than embar- 196 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. rassed at being discovered before her scheme was accomplished. She twirled the coil with an air of assumed innocence, walked slowly along, allowing the distance between us to gradually increase, and finally turned around and went back. It was a disagreeable expe- rience, and I with difficulty threw off the feeling that every person we met was plan- ning how he might steal something from us. We soon found ourselves in front of the "Colosseum." This, of course, is the most in- teresting and important of all the ruins. And why should it not be? Think of the mighty conflicts w T hich have been waged both within and without those mighty walls. They were 197 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. built in the year 80 A. D., and still they are there. Even the prominent .' appearances of decay are deceptive, for that part of the wall which is gone was pulled down so that the material might be used for other buildings. We were told that many of the largest build- ings in modern Rome were constructed from material taken from the walls of the "Colos- seum." And yet such a small portion seems to be gone. As we strolled about the "Sands of the Arena" we thought of all the sights which those walls had looked upon. The spectacles, the games, the combats, be- tween man and man and between man and beast. All traces of seats have disappeared. Only the bare w T alls slope back from the grass grown center. There are stone steps by which one may ascend to the ancient galleries, and the walls are buttressed so as to make them safe. We climbed (for one franc each) to where we could overlook the highest portion, and from there took a long look over the city, "ancient and mod- ern." The "Via Sacra" was in full view, stretching far away in the distance. Return* ing again to the arena, we inspected the open* 198 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. ings in the ground from which the prisoners emerged to take their chances in the conflicts before the assembled crowds. How terrible it must have been for the victims to look up to those tiers of seats filled oftentimes with gaily dressed women, lounging upon soft robes and cushions, and see the appeal for mercy met with the awful "thumbs down." Our next experience was to take a walk through that portion of the city known as the "Ghetto." It w^ould be as well to ride here, were it not for the fact that a closer inspec- tion is possible from on foot. (I confess that a retrospect suggested that our view in this case was too close.) Many of the streets are so narrow as to be nothing but alleys. We found ourselves literally "in the very thick of it." The alleys were dark, damp and unclean in the worst possible sense. The buildings which opened on them seemed to have no way of being lighted or aired except from the street. We gave way to our curiosity some- what, and peered into the darkness of what were more like dens for animals than homes for human beings. Sometimes there were men working with tools in these dens, sometimes we saw women knitting, sew- 199 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. ing or tending babies. The only re- straint seemed to be the occasional po- liceman whom I noticed frequented the sunnier parts of this unfortunate district. If we eyed them curiously, they certainly re- turned the compliment with interest. They even reminded me of wild animals waiting to spring upon their victims. We decided not to go that way after dark. The heart rending part of it is that human beings are willing to live in such abject degradation, and other hu- man beings are brought into the world to live on in the same condition in their turn. Were the people so in the days when the "Colos- seum" was building, and will they always be so? In that climate, where, of all places, the strictest sanitary regulations are necessary, to conserve the public health and the public morals, there seems to be only such sanitary regulations as nature, already handicapped in every possible way, is able to provide. I remember that we spent one afternoon in Rome just visiting old churches. There are any number of them there, and of course we could not begin to see them all, but we picked out a few of the most interesting and devoted ourselves to them. Each one which we saw 200 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. had some special point of interest. The first was the "Lateran." This takes precedence in rank over all the churches in Borne, even St. Peter's, and is the church of the pope, it being here he receives his coronation. The baptistry, which adjoins the church, contains a most remarkable iron door. The hinges emit a singing sound when the door is opened, the different notes of the scale being represented. The guide told us a long story about it, but I could not remember it after- wards, and I have not been able to* find out about it in any way since. Another point of interest here was the "Holy Stairs." These are in a building near by, and are said to have been brought from the house of Pilate, and to have been trod by the feet; of Jesus. The stairs are of marble, twenty-eight in number, and are in a room by themselves. No one is allowed to ascend them except upon his knees. While we were there a woman was ascending in the required manner, kissing each step fervently as she passed it. A very aged white haired man was pressing his forehead upon the lower step. In the square in front of this church stands the oldest thing which we saw upon the journey. This is an 201 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. obelisk, the largest of its kind in the world. It was erected in Thebes in the year 1597 B. C. It was brought to Eome in the third cen- tury after Christ. Another church of interest is called "St Peter in Chains." It is said to have been built for the purpose of holding the chains which bound St. Peter after his captivity. The thing which attracted us to go there was not the "chains of St. Peter" (the existence of which might be a trifle doubtful), but the statue of "Moses" by Michael Angelo>. There was no myth about the statue, for we found it there, just as described. The large, powerful hand holds the flowing beard, and the "horns," which have been the subject of discussion by artists and theologians as well, rise in their glory. Another church was the one called "St. Paul's Outside the Gates." It is said to be built upon the original burial spot of St. Paul, and is a most beautiful and modern cathedral. A visit to it took us outside the walls of Eome, the inspection of which, as we passed through them, was exceedingly interesting. In many places the walls have fallen away, but upon this road they stand just as they were in the days of the emperors. The church 202 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. has been built and rebuilt many times since the days of the apostle, but there are things about it now which are quite distinctive. The long nave, with its eighty pillars of solid granite, are wonderful, and the statuary and other decorations are all in harmony with the pillars. The most perfect of all the very ancient things in Roma is the "Pantheon." This unique temple "to all the gods" was built twenty centuries before Christ. Some others have been built after its pattern at different times, but this stands alone in point of time, and general interest. Once it was used as a military fortress when one pope was in arms against another. The peculiar feature of the Pantheon is the rotunda shaped interior, lighted only by a circular opening in the apex. The diameter of the opening is thirty feet, but it appears to be much smaller from below. It is impossible to describe the effect of the light shining down from above upon these old altars, monuments and tombs. It is now used as a burial place for famous Italian artists, and these old walls have the honor of shelter- ing the last resting place of the most noted of all artists, Raphael Sanzio. The statesman, Victor Emanuel, also lies buried here, 203 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTEK XIX. THE PINCIAN HILL. A ROMAN VILLA. PISA AND THE WONDERFUL TOWER. After having faithfully visited so many old churches we felt free to enjoy to the fullest extent our drive to the beautiful "Pincian Hill." Although it was one of Game's seven hills, the "Pincian" is not covered w r ith crum- bling ruins of the splendid works of other days, but is a magnificent park, fitted up and adorned in the most modern style. Hand- some driveways are adorned with profusely flowering plants, and statues and fountains are in evidence on every hand. From one portion of the hill there is a fine view of the entire city. The great dome of St Peter's is the most conspicuous object, but the Pantheon is very prominent, and a long stretch of the Tiber embankment. Just be- yond the "Pincian" is the "Borghese Villa." I had always wondered what a Eoman Villa was like, and was delighted with our drive through this one. It has the appearance of a 204 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. private park, very large, with its walks and drives and beautiful natural scenery. The "Palace" stands in the midst of it all, and is said to contain some of the finest art works in Italy, but upon that day it was closed. Many other villas lie in the immediate suburbs of the city, and although they are merely private homes, the drives are open to the public. The courtesy of the houses is often extended when certain conditions are complied with. We also saw the "Quirinal Palace," w T hich is the home of the king and queen when they are in Rome., We only saw it from the exterior, as we learned that admission was only granted by card from some influential person, and we were not fortunate to possess such a friend in Rome. The Palace is not imposing from the outside. It has the appearance of a large, bare, yellow hotel. But I understand that the in- terior is very magnificent. The "Chancery Palace," a building which corresponds to our Court House, is a building of plain gray stone. The guide told us that the stone for this building was taken from the walls of the Colosseum. He also informed as at the same time that the statue of Pompey, at the foot of which "great Caesar fell," was 205 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. the private property of a Roman by the name of Prince Staffa, We further learned that a view of the statue could be obtained from the porter, the prince himself not being im the city. We were anxious to behold this his- toric object, and so were hastily driven to the palace of the prince. We were fortunate enough to gain admission to the large barn like building, which was honored by the name of palace, and were soon gazing upon the statue. We agreed to accept it as genuine, as it looked exactly like the pictures we had seen, and it was certainly very fine. Possibly the porter thought that we seemed a little incredulous, and wishing to arouse more en- thusiasm pointed to a large dark stain on one of its sides and exclaimed: "Caesar Blut! Caesar Blut!" We nodded and said: "Oh, yes, Caesar's blood; how interesting." But even though I gently urged my lagging imag- ination, because I wanted to think it was Caesar's blood, I was not very successful in accomplishing my purpose. It was somewhat the same with the famous "Mamertine Prison," where Peter and Paul were kept before their death. There is a little chapel upon the site of the prison, but the 206 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. actual prison lies two stories underground. This was our tirst experience in going down stairs two flights, although we had gone up stairs any number of them. When the pris- ons were in use, so the guide said, there were no stairs at all, but the prisoners were let down through holes in the floor. In the lower of the cells were exhibited the actual cages in which the apostles were imprisoned, and to make the matter more realistic, there were tw^o male figures in bronze gazing at us through the bars. A convenient opening in the floor disclosed the water which had ap- peared miraculously at the time of the con- version of the jailor, and which was used by Peter to baptize him. We thought w r e would be a little facetious, and so asked the guide if that was the actual water which appeared to Peter, but the joke was lost entirely, for he looked at us very soberly and repeated the statement just as he had made it before. There was a great door opening from this cell into the "Cloaca Maxima," into which the bodies of the prisoners used to be thrown, and through which Catiline made his escape after the oration of Cicero against him. The huge stone was pointed out to which Jugertha was 207 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. chained by Hannibal and starved to death. How history and legend cross each other in a place of this kind! Last of all came the "Catacombs." How many visions rise at the name of "dark galler- ies, low corridors and vaulted halls, where sunshine never enters." Although the time which we had planned to spend in Rome had expired we felt that we could not leave with- out one glimpse into those subterranean chambers which were so closely associated with the life and death of scores of the early Christians. On the morning we visited the Catacombs we were fortunate enough to secure a cab driver who could speak English. To be sure, he was an Ital- ian, but he wore a clean collar and a new straw hat, and was exceedingly polite and anxious to give us all the information he could. He called for us at an early hour, and we were soon rolling along the "Appian Way" listening to the description of the things which we were passing. He had the soft, musical Italian voice, with just enough accent to make it interesting. We passed the "Tombs of the Scipios," and the little house called "Domine quo Vadis," said to have 208 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. been erected upon the spot where Peter met Christ when fleeing from Eome. We hap- pened to be familiar with this legend, on ac- count of the recent popularity of the story of Sienkiewicz, but we appeared not to be, so we enjoyed hearing him tell it in his simple, al- most childlike way. We soon stopped at a gate, which we were told to enter. Almost involuntarily we looked around to see where the "Catacombs" were, not realizing for an instant that we were probably standing upon them. A monk with a bald head and a long brown gown, who seemed to be in charge of the little house which stood near the gate, soberly handed us each a tiny taper, and taking a larger one himself, bade us follow him. What a chill came upon us as we descended the crumbling stairs! We followed him through many long, dark passages while he described the differ- ent uses and arrangements of them. These particular catacombs were used as places of refuge for the early Christians, from the per- secutions of the emperors. The excavations in the sides of the passageways were the places where the dead had been interred. At the present time all the bodies have been re- 209 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. moved, although many parts of the tombs containing inscriptions remain. I felt as I followed the dim light of the taper before us that I would rather be above ground in the sunlight, and I reflected that I would rather be torn Jby the lions of Nero than to lose my way in one of these dark streets. No wonder the Christians were safe when they entered here, for I can imagine that no one with a bad conscience would risk himself within the shadow of the Catacombs. On the whole, I was glad when the tour was over and we were safely back in the cab again. As we were about to return to Rome the driver turned about in his seat and sweetly remarked: "Eef you will geeve me two francs more I weel "trive you to de plaace wear you can see de original footprint of Christ when he appeared to Peter in de veeshion." We discussed the situation, for a, moment and finally told the driver that we did not have time to see any- thing more that morning. He really seemed to believe that he could do as he had said. I have been wondering ever since who the peo- ple are who think to secure a view of the "original footprint of Christ" for "two francs more." That evening at ten o'clock we took the train for Pisa. 210 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. The compartments for both men and women were so crowded that I was put into one for women alone. Not for many a long day shall I forget that long night. I wanted to curl up in a corner by the open window and go to sleep. Quite another fate was in store for me. There were three Italian women in the car when I got in, and if it were not slang I should say that they "whooped it up." They took no notice of me at first, but began to sing. Sometimes they sang loudly, very loudly it seemed to me when I was so anxious to sleep, sometimes not so loudly, but still they sang. I thought they would be tired of singing after a while, and then I could go to sleep. Well! they did stop singing, but I did not go to sleep, for they suddenly discovered me, and from that time on I became the focus of their interest. They assailed me almost fiercely and talked to me rapidly, in Italian of course. I understoood nothing of what they were saying, and they reminded me of a lot of turkeys when some strange creature has in- vaded the sanctity of their home. I soon dis- covered that their attentions were meant in kindness, but they were fully as annoying for all that. After a while I understood that they 211 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. thought there wias too much wind blowing in onto my head, and they w T anted to close the window. I wanted the window open, but I saw that resistance was useless, and so submitted and the window was closed. Then they decided that the light was shining too strongly in my eyes, and I must move from my comfortable position to the other side of the car. I did not want to change, but I was helpless in their hands. I tried to converse w^ith them in English, but whenever I did so they sadly shook their heads and were still for a few seconds. Per- haps I could have kept them still by talking very fast, but that would have been worse than being talked to. When the cars stopped at a station one of the girls got out and bought a bottle of something. Oh! How I hoped and prayed they would drink it all up themselves and forget about me. My hopes were in vain, and my prayers were not an- swered. They simply made me drink some of it, and I immediately wished I had not, So the night wore on, and I became so weary with continually changing my seat and being talked to in high Italian, that I began to won- der who I was. 212 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. We reached Pisa early in the morning. There was only one thing there which we wished to see, and we had planned to stay over one train to visit the famous "leaning tower." We asked for the "Duomo," which seemed to be the Italian word for almost everything which we wanted to see, and started out in the direction indicated. It was a most inter- esting walk, for the old town was just waking up. Barefooted women were hurrying about as if going to work, shutters were being taken down and similar sights abounded. We walked on for some time, so long that we 213 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. thought we must have lost our "way, when suddenly, and without warning, the tower loomed up ■ almost within a few feet of us. j\£y first sensation upon seeing it was most peculiar. I felt that it would certainly fall down before we could reach it. I could form no idea of how much it leaned (the guide book said thirteen feet), but the sensation of seeing anything out of the perpendicular was so un- usual that it seemed to sway. I reasoned that the sensation of expecting it to fall arose from the fact that I had never seen anything lean- ing so much as that did which did not ulti- mately fall. Aside from its leaning (which spoiled it for me), it is a: most beautiful thing. Pure white marble columns rise one on top of another to the height of 178 feet. I believe that visitors are allowed to go to the top of it for a franc, but I felt that I wanted to keep as far away from it as possible. While it would add to its beauty if it were straight, no doubt it would detract from its fascination. The cathedral and baptistry which make up the remarkable group of buildings at that end of the town are very fine, but the interest centers about the tower. 214 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTER XX. FACE TOWARDS HOME. THE ALPS AGAIN. OTHER EXPERIENCES. Rome, in a sense, had been the end of our journey. In the first place, it was the farthest point from home, so that when our faces were turned away from the "Eternal City" we felt that we were homeward bound. I wonder if all travelers feel that peculiar thrill of impa- tience to be in their own country again, when they know for the first time that they are going towards it instead of away from it? Then, in another sense, Rome had been the culmination of our trip, for this was the city which most of all we had desired to see. Although there were still many beautiful and interesting things to be seen, we knew that for us the highest .point had been reached. The only other thing in Italy which we had wanted to see was the "leaning tower." After that was seen we felt impa- tient to be out of Italy. This feeling was caused partly by the intense heat, partly by 215 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. the fleas, partly by the uncleanly condition of the cars and hotels, and largely because we did not understand the language. (How often had returned to me the sage resolve of my earlier days never to go abroad until I had acquired the language of the countries where I intended to travel.) The towns through which we passed as we went north from Pisa were all small and evidently not much frequented by tourists. I should per- haps except Genoa, the birthplace of Colum- bus, through which w r e passed, but only stopped between trains. We learned that there was a cathedral there, and other things of interest, but we were full of cathedrals, and knew this one could not be as fine as others which we had seen. There is a beauti- ful statue of Columbus, which is near enough the station to be seen easily from that point. That night we stayed at an Italian town called Allessandria, Our experience here was exceedingly uncomfortable, We found a hotel at last, but no one connected with it had ever heard of the English language. But by that time we had picked up a few of the most common words, and by the use of these and many gestures we secured 216 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. a room. The breakfast was not so easy. I remember that we ordered soft boiled eggs, which when we broke them* were found to be hardly cooked at all. We sent them back and asked that they be cooked. In they came again, in the same condition. There was not much else on the table that we could eat, and we were getting quite hun- gry. When we found that we could not eat the second installment of eggs my husband sprang from his chair, rushed into the kitchen, held up his watch and indicated upon the face of it the space of three minutes. Well ! we finished our breakfast, although the bread was so hard that we appreciated the bible reference about asking for bread and receiving a stone. Then we asked for our bill. We smiled when we were presented with a clothes^ brush. But when a purse was brought out and shaken the bill was forth- coming at once. We made a short stop at Mortara, and an- other at Novara. As we often found it con- venient to have eatables in hand, we made it a practice to carry with us a small willow basket, Up to this time we had felt that it was very plebian to carry a basket. Here, 217 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. however, we discovered that a basket was very much of a luxury, and even attracted at- tention by its elegance. The other passengers carried their lunches in red handkerchiefs, sometimes hemmed, and sometimes not. As the evening drew on we became exceed- ingly weary and travel stained, and I felt that all that was necessary for us to do* was to exchange our basket for a red handkerchief and we would not know ourselves from the Italian peasantry. At the next station, Arona, the journey was delightfully varied by a boat ride across one of the pretty lakes m which abound in that portion of the country. This one was Lake Maggiore. The lake is surrounded by mountains, dotted with vil- lages and isolated houses. There is a soft haze which hangs very low, sometimes below T the mountain peaks. The two hours' ride took us past some delightful little islands, one of which was entirely built up with terraces and artificial gardens. We caught a fleeting view of statuary, climbing vines and flowers. It truly looked like some enchanted island, pre- pared by some jealous lover as a retreat for his bride. My imagination was soon busy weaving a delightful romance about it. But 218 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. my visions were rudely dispelled by a refer- ence to the guide book, which declared that these islands in the lake were more romantic at a distance than they were near at hand, as they were very apt to be disagreeably unclean and unwholesome upon close inspection. But they were beautiful from the boat, and added decidedly to the pleasure of the ride. We went ashore at Palanza, and ate our supper on the piazza of a hotel overlooking the lake. The plan was to take a diligence from here to a place called Gravelona. Accordingly, at about half-past eight in the evening, w r e clambered up the long ladder and took our seats upon the top of the coach. While the daylight lasted it was fine. But long before we reached our destination the densest shades of night were upon us. There was not a spark of light about the coach nor along the road. We felt that the driver was losing time, and upon consulting our w^atches by lighting a match found there was danger of missing our train which was to take us on to the next sta- tion, where we were to spend the night. To be sure, it w r as not a matter of life and death that we take that particular train, but we had planned it that way, and it is a peculiarity of 219 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. human nature to want to take the train which one has planned to take. We asked the driver if he would not hurry up. He did not under- stand English, and only shook his head. We appealed to the other passengers, who 1 were conversing in different languages, but no one understood us. As the coach rolled into the town we heard the train whistle some dis- tance away. We grew excited, the more so when the driver stopped to argue with a woman who had gotten off the coach about hex fare. Then they dropped some of the money, and had to light a match to find it. We implored him to hurry, but he took his own time, and the train was just snorting to be off as we rushed breathlessly into the sta- tion. Then the tickets had to be shown before we could get through the gates. Every pocket in every garment was hurriedly examined, and we decided that the tickets had been lost. Then they were found in the last pocket. 1 was so excited that in some way I got through the gates while my husband was looking for the tickets. What was my horror and amaze- ment to find myself alone in that surging crowd. I looked madly towards the entrance gate where I had left him. I do not pretend 220 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. to reinember just what I did or said. I think I demanded him from every one about me. But no one understood or took any notice of me. It seemed as if the train would start every second, and the immediate prospect was far from inviting. This state of affairs lasted for several dreadful seconds. I cannot describe the feeling of relief which thrilled me upon being addressed in a pleasant American voice with the words, "There is your husband, madam. " I first made sure of my husband, and then turned to thank the speaker. It proved to be a young Princeton graduate, who with a friend was making a pedestrian tour of north- ern Italy and Switzerland. They had come into the station just in time to witness the separation, and this prompt and kind action had saved us from the uncomfortable conse- quences of it. This is one of the things which is funnier to tell about than to experience. A two hours' ride brought us to Domodos- sola, where we spent the night. At the sta- tion we were partly annoyed, and partly amused, as we always were, by the number of people who wanted to carry the baggage. We chose to walk the short distance from the 221 The story op a European ffttfft. station to the hotel, and one persistent fellow followed us closely the entire way. "I won- der/' said one of our American friends, who had proved most delightful traveling compan- ions, "I wonder if that fellow expects to get a franc for following us up here. If he does, he will certainly be disappointed. But lots of Italians have been disappointed in the same way since I have been traveling in Italy." Domodossola was the place where we were to begin our journey across the Alps on the return trip. This time we were going over the "Siniplon Pass," and instead of tearing through the mountains after a steam engine, we were to be drawn over the outside of them by horses. This pass was made by Napoleon for the transportation of his army, between the years 1800 and 1806. It was a most stu- pendous undertaking. One receives a new understanding of that indomnitable spirit w^hen he sees what immense physical hin- drances had to be overcome in order to ac- complish his purpose. The very daring of it is overwhelming. We started our ascent of the Alps early in the morning, and in a pour- ing rain. But it soon cleared up, and we en- 222 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN f OUft. tered with a will into the spirit of the occa- sion. For six long hours w 7 e went up. The road winds back and forth in a zigzag man- ner, as if it was doing its best to '"stick on." The horses settled themselves down to a slow, patient pull. The scenery through which we passed is beyond description. I can declare it is "grand," "impressive," "picturesque," "wild," "broken," "interesting," "roman- tic," "exquisite," "enchanting" 'and many other things. It was all these, to be sure, but still even this profusion of words does not describe the reality. Most of the time during the ascent the road ran along a mountain gorge, down which rushed a stream of considerable size. The mountains rise in almost perpendicular heights, and at every turn there is a new kind of waterfall. The scene changes momentarily. One water- fall was flat like a piece of lace, waving and changing in the sunlight. Another came down with a leap directly above the little stone bridge across which the road wound. It seemed like the last leap of an animal w T hich was hastening on with a mad rush to the very bottom of the chasm. I suppose it is still there, leaping over the heads of all the 223 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. 'other people who are going that way. I was obliged to reason with myself that nobody had ever been killed there in order to pre- serve my equanimity and enjoy myself. I had no desire to waste the pleasures of this rare day in being afraid. It seemed the most nat- ural thing in the world that we should join in with the waterfall and go leaping and dan- cing to the bottom. It was a little after noon when we reached the top. It almost made me dizzy to know that; we were 6,628 -feet above sea level. There was quite a little settlement of hotels there, and as is usual all stopped for dinner. Of course the dinner tasted good after the long ride, and there was plenty of time for a stroll in the vicinity before the horses were again in their places ready for the descent. The delights of the 'afternoon were quite equal to those of the morning, al- though of a different nature. There was clear- ly the sensation of going down, and the road was more dizzy. We stopped for a few min- utes at the celebrated old "Hospice." It was built by Napoleon as a soldiers' barracks, and is now a relic of the idea that there should be a place where travelers may stop without pay. But we found it poorly kept and hardly suit- able for refreshment of any kind. 224 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUft. At the foot of the pass lies the beautiful little village of Brieg. This village, as it lies cuddling between the mountains, surrounded by the most picturesque scenery, was visible for eight long, delightful miles on the down- ward ride. All that we heard of the beauty ■of this view was more than realized. And besides that, it was Switzerland again. It was about eight o'clock when we drove up to a neat little inn situated in the heart of Brieg, after that day altogether unparalleled in pre- vious experience. All through the night I seemed to be gazing upon that rich panorama of colors which had been before me for the long hours of that long day. Again I saw waterfalls of lace waving in the sunshine; again I was picking the mountain flowers and wondering at their beauty and variety; again I saw those peasant women and children with their wicker baskets fastened closely to their backs, toiling up the mountain steeps; again I felt the sensation of wanting to get out of the carriage and hold on to the grass. Not the least of the delights of such a day is the ability to live it over again for an indefinite number of times. 225 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTER XXI. A VISIT TO THE VALE OF CHAMONIX. WONDERS AROUND MOUNT BLANC. Our immediate destination, after the ride over the Simplon Pass, was the far-famed "Vale of Chamonix," which lies some three hundred feet up in the mountains. Ohamonix is really within the geographical boundaries of France, but it seems so much like Switzer- land, both in its surroundings and people, that we kept forgetting that it was not a part of the latter country. In order to see the beau- tiful vale the traveler must again ascend and descend the mountains. This time it was by way of the "Tete Noire" pass. Our experience durin»g the second day of mountain driving was reversed. We started out under a most beautifully clear sky, which soon became overcast. A cold, dismal rain soon began to fall, which continued at intervals during the entire day. The experience was peculiar, even though it was disappointing. The air was so heavy with mist that we could see 226 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. nothing but the horses in front of us, and we seemed to be climbing away from "terra firma" directly up in the air. There were a good many "ups and downs'" during the day. The rain poured during the dinner hour, which prevented us from exploring the coun- try. We were crowded into the parlor of the mountain hotel with a lot of people who seemed to be regular "summer boarders/' and who stared at us most deliberately, and who seemed to rather resent the intrusion of stran- gers. We reached Chamonix at sundown, cold, wet and tired. Mount Blanc did not seem at all glad to see us, and although the sun shone upon his side, he steadily held his old head among the clouds and positively re- fused to smile upon us. Although the time here was short, it was memorable. The scenes among which we found ourselves were remarkable for their beauty, and were so unusual and different from anything which we had seen before that we were wonderfully impressed by them. We had had our first introduction to the glaciers the day before during the ride over the "Tete Noire" pass. As we neared the town of 227 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. Chanionix these great masses of ice lay piled up in the ravines and crevices of the mount- ains. It was difficult to believe that it was really ice lying right there so near to the green fields which lay stretched out below them. We secured a good view of the famous "Mer de Glac" from the road, and of other less noted glaciers. The village of Chamonix nestles directly at the foot of Mount Blanc, and we had hoped that our day there would be a clear one, so that we might see to good advantage the snow covered peaks about which we had heard so much. But alas! the morning dawned cloudy and heavy, and we arose with hearts that were also heavy. The mist was so thick that we could only see part way up the mount- ain in any direction. We decided to spend the morning in a tour of one of the glaciers which was most accessible. The "Glacier des Bossons" was selected, and thither we turned our steps. We carried our Alpine stocks and wore the stocking feet over our shoes. These stocking feet seem to melt into the ice and cling to it, thus lessening the danger of slip- ping while walking up hill on the slippery surface. The guides wear immense great 228 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. shoes with hob nails in the toes. It took over an hour of steady, hard climbing to reach the glacier, which lies upon the side of Mount Blanc. During the ascent we were attracted b}^ the sight of the great blocks of ice which were coming down in the wooden chutes from the ice fields above. It seems that the in- habitants of this region are in the habit of utilizing this feature of their country, and the harvesting of the ice, so conveniently near at hand, all the year round is a regular industry. It is hardly necessary to mention that we kept at a most respectful distance from the troughs, for the ice blocks came down with a tremendous force, and it was quite evident that if we had seen fit to interfere in the least with one of them we should have gone upon a much longer journey than the one which we were then taking. We reached the glacier in due time, and after resting and cooling off at the "Chalet," we took a walk through what they called the "Grotto." This was a long passage, something like a tunnel cut directly through to the heart of the iceberg. It was lighted artificially, and the bare walls of cold, solid ice sent a chill to our very bones. Then we emerged into the 229 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. open air once more, and ascending a ladder, found ourselves at last upon the top of a "real glacier." We were thankful for the stocking feet, and also for the Alpine stocks, which helped us over the many rough places in the glacier. The journey across occupied about fifteen minutes. We returned to Cham- onix on the other side of the glacier, crossing along the way many an angry little torrent formed by the melting of the ice above. The afternoon continued cloudy, and our stroll among the hills and footpaths was disappoint- ing. But just before the sun sank for the night the mists cleared just enough for us to catch a glimpse of the snow capped summit of the mountain. Just one portion shone out in delicate covering above the clouds. The next morning we arose early in order to take the diligence over a mountain road to La Fayet, whence we went by train to Geneva. We were delighted to find the sky perfectly clear, and Mount Blanc and his hoary companions fairly radiant in the brilliance of the sunshine. How the great snow fields tower on high when one can secure a good view of them. By looking through a great telescope which was conveni- ently placed so as to attract the departing 330 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. tourists, we enjoyed a magnificent view of the snow fields which lie upon the top of the venerable peak. While we were standing there upon the ground, surrounded by green trees and blooming flowers, a glance through the telescope placed us among different scenes. The top of Mount Blanc reminded me of the appearance of a western town after a three days' blizzard. The morning ride from Chamonix to La Fayet was a wonderful one. It was great fun getting started. The dili- gence was an immense two story affair, drawn by six white horses. When all was ready a large horn was blown and we dashed off at a lively pace. We secured the back seat, which gave us an extended and lasting view of the beautiful scenery which we were leav- ing. As the coach rolled along a varied pano- rama of pictures greeted us. First, there was a large herd of goats being driven to pasture by a boy with a large horn swung over his shoulder, which he blew at short intervals. Each goat wore a bell, as do all animals in this mountainous country. Then we passed women who watched the cows and knit at the same time. This grew to be a common sight, fitting in harmoniously with the rest of th€ 231 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. scenery. Then, at every turn, there was a different view of the snow capped mountains. The clouds hung thick and fleecy below the peaks, but the peaks towered above, glisten- ing in the sunshine. All at once a turn in the road excluded from our sight all of the beau- tiful outlook. Some one upon the coach ex- claimed sadly: "It is gone." But it was not gone, for it appeared again at the next turn, and with still another face. Just as the mount- ain never seems to get any nearer when one is walking towards it, so Mount Blanc never seemed to get any farther away as we drove from it. It followed hard after us, no matter where we turned. The soft, fleecy clouds which hung just below the peaks of the mountains seemed like feathery boas or tip- pets worn to keep them warm. At another turn the clouds were more isolated, and cud- dled down close to the peaks as if they loved them, and reminded me of birds hovering over their nests. I could not look enough, and those scenes which we passed that morning are more like visions than realities as they rise before my mind today. Much of the road was so narrow as to admit of the passage of only one team at a time. The driver blew his horn 232 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. repeatedly to warn approaching vehicles (and there were a number that morning), of our approach. The road was so narrow that as the horses galloped around the curves there was danger enough to send the venture- some into an ecstacy of pleasure, and to make the timid ones shudder and turn pale. There are no written words which can pretend to do justice to this experience. From La Payet to Geneva the scenery is very beautiful, and the snow capped peaks of Mount Blanc are still visible in the distance. It is, however, more ordinary than that which lies immediately about Ohamonix. The sky was bluer and the clouds whiter than I ever saw them before. We made only a brief stop at the city of Geneva, although it is interest- ing enough, both from the historical and ar- tistic standpoint, to have occupied several days. But our days were numbered, and there were only a few of them left. Then Paris was still ahead of us, and I had the feeling that I "had not seen it all" until I had seen Paris. But the few hours which we spent in Ge- neva were very pleasant ones. We did not try to visit the art galleries, for we knew there 233 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. was not time to do so satisfactorily. In fact, there were so many things of beauty to be seen out of doors that our time was fully oc- cupied with these. The city lies at the south end of the lake of the same name, and is divided into two parts by the River Rhone, which emerges from the lake at that point. This makes the city very pretty, as it gives an • opportunity for a number of picturesque bridges, and the lake lying so near gives it a most favorable setting. Rousseau was born here, and there is an island called after him upon which there is a statue of him. Then there is a charming park known as the "Eng- lish Gardens. " It lies along the bank of the lake, and is simply overflowing with fount- ains, statuary and flowers. After a long walk along the lake and about the park, we sat down in the park to rest and enjoy the beautiful things about us. There seemed to be seats and chairs scattered about for visit- ors, and as the chairs appeared the more comfortable, we took them. We had been seated but a few minutes when we were sur- prised to be addressed by a strange man, who, after rattling off a lot of stuff in French, handed us two small slips of paper. We had 234 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. no idea whiat he was trying to say, and so took the slips and looked at them. After a while, by the nse of numerous gestures and more words, we gathered that he wanted to collect two cents apiece from us for the use of the chairs. We handed back the slips po- litely and walked away, and he made no> at- tempt to press the matter. I remember that we spent quite a good deal of time in the jewelry stores, which on ac- count of the large manufactories there are unusually large and attractive. The quan- tity and variety of watches was marvelous. All manner of pretty trinkets for decorating the hair and neck of the fair sex were dis- played. But we soon finished with Geneva and were off for Paris. 235 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTER XXII. PARIS AT LAST. TOMB OF NAPOLEON. THE VENUS. EXPERIENCES. My impressions of our visit to Paris are mixed. It goes without saying that this city formed one of the bright spots in anticipation. Whether it remains so in the retrospect is a question. We had heard so much of this won- derful city. From the time of my earliest rec- ollection I had heard it called the "magnifi- cent." Often had I gazed upon its scenes from the canvas of the stereopticon lecturer, and always with the keenest enjoyment. * * Then, as I had grown older, and learned some- thing of its strange, unusual and unique part, both in history and in fiction, I was filled with longing to visit the city in person and see for myself the places which I had so often heard described. Every one forms mental pictures. After the scene has become a reality nothing is more interesting than to compare the actual 236 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. with the picture previously held in the mind. When I think of Paris now, I find that it is not as grand as my fancy had painted it. We reached Paris early in the morning, and as the train rolled into the station Ave hardly knew what to expect. We were soon in the midst of interesting and wonderful things, but on the whole the city was not as "magnifi- cent 1 ' as I had hoped to find it. The build- ings were not so white as I had supposed they were. While the streets were clean and wide, they were not more so than other places where we had been. And yet, after all, Paris is Paris, quite unlike any other place, al- though I am unable to tell wherein lies the difference. It ihslj be in the people who throng the boulevards, all night long, it seemed to us. It may be in the brilliancy of the stores, or in the beauty and variety of the architecture. But I am getting ahead of my story, and must go back a little. As soon as we had break- fasted we w^ent at once to the "Louvre," for we knew there would be so much to see there that we would do well to begin early. We did the best we could with the time and strength at our disposal. But I find, now that it is all over, that the Louvre of Paris means 237 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. for me only one thing. This is the wonderful statue of the "Venus of Milo." The impres- sion made upon my mind by this one object so overbalanced that made by the other things that they sink out of sight in the re- trospect. We walked over miles of territory, and gazed upon acres of pictures, but every- thing seemed only an afterthought when com- pared with the statue. There were many busts of emperors, as in other galleries, but we hurried past them. I felt sure that the em- perors must be very valuable and interesting or there would not have been so many of them, but I do not remember seeing any one looking at them. By this time we had come to the "Venus." and I forgot everything else. One does not have to be coached up in order to enjoy this statue. It simply absorbs you from the in- stant you first rest your eyes uponi it. It stands all by itself in the center of a square hall, surrounded by an iron railing. I sup- pose this railing is placed there to prevent people from following out the natural im- pulse, of which I myself was conscious, to touch the marble, to see if it were not soft. This art work had always been a favorite of 238 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. mine, but when in its actual presence I real- ized how far short of the original all the copies fell. The head, shoulders and breast are perfect, and Oh! how beautiful they are! I stood there and wondered, as doubtless hun- dreds have done before me, that cold marble could be made to look so much like warm flesh. And yet no head and neck were ever so perfect, no face of flesh was ever so finely cut, so delicate, so lovely! There was one position from which it was supremely beauti- ful, and in that position I took my seat and gazed until the fleeting moments reminded me that there were other things to be seen in Paris besides the "Venus of Milo," wonder- ful though it was. The history of the "Venus" is interesting. No one knows who made it, although there are all manner of theories about it, It was found in the year 1820 in the island of Milo, by some obscure person who* had no idea of its real value. As of course every one knows, both the arms are gone, and it has been im- possible for the critics to agree as to how they were placed. Passing from statuary to pictures, the mas- terpieces which I enjoyed most were collected 239 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. in the room known as the "Hall Carre. " Among these was the "Immaculate Concep- tion," by Murilla The same characteristics were noticeable here as in the other works of this artist. There was the robe of dark blue over the under one of pure white. Also, the beautiful face of the Virgin and the deli- cately tinted atmosphere. There was the "Holy Family," by the same artist, in which the child stands in the mother's lap, holding a cross. The same tints prevail here as in the more famous pictures. I remember Da Vinci's "Mona Lisa," and the startling one by Paul Veronese called "Jupiter Punishing Crime." There were also a few by Michael Angelo and Raphael here. Next to the "Louvre" came the "Tomb of Napoleon." After having devoted a fair portion of our time to the pictures, we turned our steps toward this most wonderful sepulchre of this most wonderful man. The body of the great general lies directlv under the dome of a church which is a part of the building known as the "Hotel des Invalides." Napoleon died on the island of St. Helena in the year 1821, but it was not until twenty years after that the then king of France, Louis Phillipe, 240 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. secured his remains and laid them to rest under this magnificent dome. It appears that this "Hotel des Inyalides" had been partly planned by Napoleon himself as a home for maimed and superannuated soldiers, and is capable of holding five thousand of them. There are only a few hundred of them there now, to hot)ble about and gaze curiously at the multitudes who flock there to see the "Tonib." In order to see the tomb the visitor enters a rather small apartment which has the appearance of a chapel. The ceiling is high, and at one end there is a beautiful altar. The end containing the altar is set with col- ored glass of so peculiar a hue as to throw a soft, almost unreal light over the room and all it contains. The immense casket of solid brown granite, superbly polished, is seen by looking down into a circular opening in the center of the room. This casket is surrounded by marble figures of angels, who seem to be guarding in holy silence the last resting place of the man who in life never rested. The tomb of General Grant at Riverside, New York, is modeled after this tomb of Napoleon. I was impressed by the fact that the body of the great Frenchman lies entirely alone, 241 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. while in the case of General Grant a similar casket bearing the name of his wife stands by the side of his own. The wife of our be- loved Washington at Mt. Vernon is honored in a similar manner. But as Napoleon never found a companion, although he had two wives and a large family connection, it is not to be wondered at that he lies solitary in his coffin. There were various little retreats and alcoves in different parts of the room where brothers and other relatives of Napoleon lie in elegant coffins. I realized how great it makes a person to have a famous relative, for no doubt few of these who share the general's honors in death would have been known to the world, but for this one famous member of the family. Many interesting things cluster about this building and the park in which it stands. The spirit of all who were there seemed to be one of great reverence for the personality of Napoleon. His very name was mentioned with awe and respect, I could not but think of the Duke of Wellington in his triple coffin under the dome of St. Paul's in London, and the cordiality of hatred with which the name of Napoleon was whispered there. 242 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. How much the greatness or littleness of a man depends upon who is talking about him! We lingered about this spot for a long time, "looking backward" over the career of the man whose manifest presence there made this spot a rendezvous for people of all na- tions. After leaving this memorable spot we wished to secure a conveyance and ride to some distant portions of the city. With this intent we approached the long line of cabs which was drawn along the sidewalk and addressed the drivers in turn with "Parlez vous English?" After receiving a siad shake of the head from each one we finally resigned ourselves to trying to make a Frenchman understand what we wanted to do. We found it true, however, that a Frenchman "catches on," as the saying is, to the meaning of things even when he cannot understand the lan- guage better than the people of other coun- tries. He watches you closely while you are talking, and seems to infer what you want rather than understand the words. We came to appreciate this characteristic the more that we realized how limited was our vocabu- lary in the language of Paris: We drove first 243 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. through the Exposition grounds. They were in a very unfinished condition, but the build- ings which even then were rising in their snowy whiteness gave promise of all manner of untold beauties. I remember that in one place they were making large blocks of a kind of soft white stone, and some of these blocks were being decorated with flowers and pictures of different kinds. The Exposition grounds seemed to stretch along for a great 244 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. distance and to be rather narrow, but other- wise to be finely located. It was not far from here to the famous "Eiffel Tower." This monstrous triumph of mechanical engineer- ing is nearly a thousiand feet high, but as we stood under it and looked up (we did not desire to ascend to its dizzy eleva- tion), I could have believed that it was almost any height, so far away from us seemed its dizzy summit. It is named from its architect, Gustave Eiffel, and has now been standing there for eleven years. It seems that the cost of it was some millions of dollars, part of which was sup- plied by the French government. I wonder if they have "got their money back" out of the pockets of those venturesome individuals who crave the kind of excitement which comes from being suspended high in midair? After that Ave saw the "Place de la Con- cord." This is the place where the "Lady Guillotine" used to stand during the bloody days of the Revolution. All sorts of grue- some memories were aroused by the latter fact. But there is nothing about the spot as it appears today to indicate that events of so great moment in human history ever trans- 245 ^ THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. pired there. It is called the central point of all that is grand and beautiful in Paris. In the center of the square is a tall circular shaft called the "Obelisk of Luxor." On each side of this is an elegant f ountain, while grouped about the outer edges are eight colossal stat- ues representing that nuany French cities. Everything which can be seen expresses what is expressed by the name, viz. : Peace. And yet I confess that I did not feel peaceful either in the "Place de la Concord" or any other place in Paris. The history of the French people has been long open to the world. Then, since we had been in Paris, very many buildings had been pointed out to us which had twice and thrice been pulled down by the mob, in the different revolu- tions, and there have been so many of them. So I felt sure that we could not be sure of anything. I admit that as we looked at the people whom we saw upon the streets and in the cars they did not look as if they were about to come at us and tear us limb from limb, as they had done to many unfortunate individuals in times not yet remote. Still I felt that we would better not do anything that would rouse them. 246 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. While it is true that Paris seems like a happy city to the transient visitor, it has seen many unhappy clays, and I doubt not will see many more. One little incident, of which I will speak later, gave us just a hint of this. 247 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. OHAPTEE XXIII. INTERESTING MONUMENTS. BOIS DE BOULOGNE. TUILLERIES. FRENCH MARKET. Besides the "Place de la Concord/' there are any number of squares scattered about the city of Paris which are interesting, both from the historical and artistic standpoint. After the one just referred to, the "Place de la Bastille" was the most interesting to me. As the name suggests, it is upon the site of the ancient fortress and prison of the Bastile, which was destroyed by the mob in 1789. A beautiful shaft stands in the center. It is called the "Column of July," and is one hun- dred and fifty feet high, and is surmounted by a statue of liberty. Then there is the square which contains the beautiful equestrian statue of Joan of Arc. This memorable woman is represented in full military regalia, and this lasting tribute to her memory cannot fail to add dignity to the place which she holds in history. The famous column in the Place Vendome which was 248 THE STORY OF A* EUROPEAN TOUR. erected by Napoleon I. to commemorate his victories over the Russians and Austrians in the year 1805, and afterwards pulled down and again restored, is plain but imposing. In another part of the city I was much im- pressed by the "Tower of St. Jacques/' which I understand was once a part of an old church. It is a beautiful gothic tower, situ- ated on the Rue de Rivoli, and is said to stand almost in the center of the city. Pascal used this tower for his experiments on atmospheric pressure. The view from its top is one of the best in the city. The Trocadero we saw at a distance. This prominent building was erected for the exhi- bition of 1878, and is noticeable for its posi- tion rather than its beauty. After this we drove through the "Bois de Boulogne/' that marvelous combination of natural and artificial beauty known all over the world in history and fiction. It lies di- rectly outside the city gates, and besides the drives and wooded portions, is said to contain several acres of artificial water. It is differ- ent from the parks of England, the gardens of Germany, and the villas of Italy, and yet I cannot tell just how, neither can I say that it 249 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. is more beautiful than corresponding locali- ties in these other places. It is simply differ- ent. Much of the wooded portion is in the natural state, and affords a delightful resort for picnic parties of all sizes. There were so many people scattered through this park that I should have thought all Paris had gone to a picnic had it not been for the fact that we had just come from the city, and no one seemed to be gone. Men and women-. were loungingabout on the velvety grass and children played and frolicked and waded in the water and fed the birds which were swimming in the water. Then there were boys in white coats and caps selling most appetizing tarts and pies and other French dainties. The cab driver did not hurry his horse, and we were glad that he did not, for we had the more opportunity to enjoy the beauty and happiness through which we were passing. I remembered how many things of interest had occurred in this historic place. Important conferences have been held here by persons of the highest rank. Duels have been fought where the partici- pants were sometimes noble, sometimes ig- noble. Meetings have been planned here be- tween men and men, between women and 250 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. women, and between men and women, some- times legal, and sometimes illegal. The first place which the Parisian thinks of when in deep trouble, as w r ell as in great joy, is this wonderful "Bois de Boulogne. " It was cer- tainly a memorable afternoon that we spent there, and we did not mind after all that the driver could not talk English, for we did not need him to interpret the beauties of nature upon which our eyes were feasting, and mem- ory and imagination supplied the rest. Then there was the ride back to Paris. We returned by the way of the magnificent tri- umphal arch. We did not ride through it, as we learned that ordinary foreigners (in which category w r e found ourselves), were not al- lowed to do so. I believe that it is only open upon special occasions. It is difficult for the visitor in Paris to get away from things which suggest Napoleon and this arch, said to be the grandest triumphal arch ever constructed in the world, is probably the most elaborate testimonial to him and his work which there is in existence. It is situated most delight- fully at one end of the beautiful Champs Ely- sees. It is modeled after the triumphal arches of Rome, but is said to be much finer than 251 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. any of those were even in the days of Rome's greatest glory. It is a masterpiece of art, which well repays a careful amd extended study. There are medallions bearing the names of important battle fields^ and there are tablets upon which are portrayed the most important moments of victory of the great general. One of the most famous reliefs is the one upon which Napoleon is repre- sented as being crowned by Victory. It was begun .in 1806 and cost more than two mil- lions of dollars. From there we drove down the Champs Elysees. The street, or rather av- enue, which bears this most attractive name extends a distance of a mile and a half, con- necting the Arch of Triumph with the Place de la Concord. It is not so much of an "Ely- sian Field" as one would be led to think from the name, and the numerous descriptions of it which are to be found. It is a wide, clean street, and is so located that many fine views of Paris may be obtained from it. Pretty and inviting stores, cafes and restaurants are in evidence, and many fine carriages constantly roll back and forth. They have a way in Paris of making believe thing® are very fine, and in that way they succeed in impressing both 252 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. themselves and other people that they are so. When I really see the "Elysian Fields" I do not expect to be in the city of Paris, and I also expect them to be quite different from any- thing which I saw there. Of course Paris has any number of fine and interesting churches, but as we were so crowded for time, we visited only the "Made- line." This is not an ancient church, as were so many which we had seen, but is famed on account of its beauty. It has been there for about one century, and is called* the "most magnificent of modern churches." It has a Corinthian portico, and the rows of pillars extending across the front remind the visitor of the old Parthenon at Athens. There is a beautiful sculptured pediment over the door. The decoration of the interior is most start- ling, but is very beautiful. Tlie statuary at- tracted me. There was a service while we were there, but people were kneeling in dif- ferent parts, performing their private devo- tions. As we passed out of the church, after having taken a few minutes to rest within its shadows, we linger&d to examine the bronze doors upon which are illustrated the ten com- mandments. I suppose that these doors are 253 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. not so fine as the famous ones we saw in Italy, but to our unskilled eyes they were very beau- tiful and added wonderfully to the dignity and significance of the church which they adorn. The "Palace of the Tuilleries" is one of the sights of Paris which the modern visitor does not see. This magnificent building, which was for years the habitation of kings and emper- ors, stood in the midst of one of the most beautiful gardens which is to be found in Paris. But it avails us nothing at the present time to read the descriptions of its grandeur, for it was entirely destroyed by the Commune in the year 1871. What is that indescribable characteristic in human nature which impels people, when they are aroused, to tear down and destroy the most beautiful and inspiring things in the world? It is impossible to be in Paris even a few days and not experience a sensation of sad- ness at the many things of incalculable value which have been destroyed there to satisfy the passing frenzy of an excitable people. I found I had no idea of thre number of "revolu- tions" which there had been in Paris until I came to see the frequent references to them 254 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. upon the places where they had taken place. And so it was with the "Palace of the Tuiller- ies." For a number of years after the Palace had been destroyed the ruins were allowed to remain there, an unhappy but truthful commentary upon the characteristics of the people of France. But now there is nothing to be seen but a part of the facade, which was originally a portion of the great rectangle of the Louvre. One feels the lack of something as he walks through the beautiful gardens, for it is bare and lonesome, being evident, as it is, that there was something there which is now gone. I remember that after having seen all that is left of the Tuilleries Ave rode past a num- ber of churches which are considered to be worthy of the attention of the sightseer, but they made little impression upon my mind, and I recall nothing about them except the "Notre Dame." The architecture of this is unusual, and we are told that the marriage ceremony of Napoleon and Josephine was per- formed there. We also passed the "Pan- theon," a building modeled after the struc- ture of that name in Rome, which has been the scene of many interesting events. Our 255 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. attention was called to the beautiful front of the "Hotel de Ville." This building corre- sponds to a "City Hall" in our country, but in Paris everything is either a "palace" or a "hotel," so one must figure out for himself what they really are. We were interested to 2CO through the "Palace of Justice" (often- times a "palace of injustice") which we would call a "Court House" here. This was a very elaborate and extended Court House. There was nothing being done there at the time, and many of the rooms were locked, so we could only go through the halls. But a woman who was cleaning let us in to one or two of the rooms, which corresponded to our court rooms. They were finely furnished with black walnut chairs, tables and handsome carpets. The next morning we were up bright and early, as w T e had planned that day to visit the far famed "French Market." I suppose that most Americans have seen these markets in miniature in our own cities, but it is evident there is only one French market. There is an immense one in New York, and a typical One in New Orleans, but they were tiny things compared with the Paris market, We had been advised that it was best to be on the 256 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. ground early, and we found ourselves on hand while the great loads of provisions were still being brought in. Imagine, if possible, acres and acres of eatables, all spread out upon open booths, protected only by a roof over- head. Each different kind of provisions was in a department by itself, covering, I should think, about a block apiece. We first came to the part occupied by the meats. There was stretched out in all imaginable shapes and forms portions of beef, pork, veal, mutton and sausage, of many kinds. Then came one im- mense tract devoted exclusively to poultry; then another containing only fish; there were small fish and large fish, live fish and dead fish; salt fish and fresh fish; shell fish and eels. Then came the vegetables. Most of them were fresh, and they retained the look of having just been gathered. Then there was a whole block of berries, most tempting and luscious. Then butter and eggs, and after that the cheese. I never supposed there was so much cheese in the world as I saw that day in the French market. I cannot realize that there were people enough anywhere to eat it all. There was French cheese, and Dutch cheese, and German cheese, and Eug- 257 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. lish cheese, and Swiss cheese, and American cheese, and other kinds of cheese. The Paris- ians are certainly not exclusive in the matter of cheese. I do not know why I was so deeply impressed with the exhibit of cheese, but that display has seemed to stand out more clearly in my mind than any other. I ought, how- ever, to except the flowers, for nothing could exceed the beauty and fragrance of that part of the market which was devoted to them. All kind^s of the richest, freshest, brightest and most delicate of posies blossomed side by side. Although the flowers were a delight to the aesthetic sense, it is true that all parts of the market w ere clean, sweet and savory. It seemed hardly possible that so much foodstuff could be exposed with so little that was un- pleasant. Then, besides the wares which were on sale, there were the people to look at. Among the buyers the women were largely in the majority. With smiling morning faces and large market baskets these French women tripped about from one stall to an- other, selecting just enough for one meal, and by their very manner suggesting what a dainty meal it was likely to be. I felt myself that it would be a long time before I should 258 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. want anything to eat, and it seemed as if what w T e had seen that morning would last the whole world for several meals, - But prob- ably before noon had arrived the food there was distributed among the kitchens of Paris, and even then there were those who would go hungry. 259 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTER XXIV. LATE HOURS ON THE BOULEVARDS. CHARACTERISTIC STREET INCIDENT. SHOPPING IN PARIS. That evening we started out for a walk. We selected for our itinerary one of the most famous boulevards of this city of attractive boulevards. That is an evening which I shall never forget. Although it was quite late when we reached the thoroughfare, the people were just beginning to crowd in. There was one long mass of dazzling light, with places here and there of even greater brilliancy. These latter were where the jewelry stores with windows fairly flashing with diamonds of- fered an attraction which was absolutely irre- sistible. But after a while we grew tired of the diamonds, brilliant and costly though they were, and turned our undivided atten- tion to the people. In the first place, there were many more of them than when we had first arrived. And how they were enjoying themselves! Many of the buildings with doors wide open into the streets were music halls or 260 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. drinking halls, or something of that nature. They were all brilliantly lighted, and) the walk in front and sometimes even the street itself was filled with tables and chairs. Music was wafted out of the windows and doors, and w T e caught fleeting glimpses of girls in white dresses and colored ribbons who were sometimes playing upon musical instruments and sometimes singing. All kinds of drinks were passed among the people sitting at the tables, that is, they were all kinds of colors. We walked on anlcl on and it grew later and later, but no one there seemed to think of going home. Indeed, the later grew the hour (or rather the earlier, for it was past midnight by this time), the larger grew the crowds. Men, women and children sat there and drank. Most of them were in groups, evidently families and friends, but sometimes we could distinguish a solitary man sitting and drink- ing all alone with head bowled down, lonely among a crowd of people. But one thing was evident. These people who sat there and drank and chatted and laughed long past the midnight hour, under those bright lights, were happy. At least they were happy that night. As happy as the day, or, rather, the 261 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. night, was long. At least they were happy then. I cannot vouch for their feelings the next day. After we had walked until we were tired we thought we would take a 'bus back to the place where we had started. We had of course discovered by this time that the 'buses of Paris had seats upon the top similar to those in London. There is, however, one difference which is greatly to the disadvant- age of the sightseer in Paris. In Paris the seats run the long way of the 'bus, while in London they run the short way. The result is that in Paris it is impossible to see but one side of the street at a time, while in London a complete view r for a long distance may be enjoyed. It was upon this ride that we ex- perienced a "scare." I have spoken of my feel- ing of uncertainty upon the Paris streets be- fore, and perhaps there was just a touch of satisfaction in finding that the feeling was not entirely without justification. There hap- pened to be a portion of the street which was under repair, so that the thoroughfare was only about half the ordinary width. Part of this diminished space was taken up by a row of cabs, which stood along the sidew T alk. Be- sides all this, I remember that there were a lot 262 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. of people walking along the street, thus mak- ing it extremely difficult for the 'bus driver to make his way along. It transpired that; one of the cabs became wedged directly in front of the 'bus upon which we were riding, and seemingly the driver of it was not making any effort to extricate himself. We were suddenly startled to see the driver of the 'bus lift his whip and strike the cab driver across the face. • The 'bus driver whipped his horses right through the people in front of him, and the cab driver gathered up his reins and followed in hot pursuit. Soon the two vehicles were abreast (no requests of passengers to be al- lowed to get down being heeded), and the drivers were lashing each other with whips and tongues as well. In much less time than it takes me to tell it a howling mob had gath- ered, all of them excited and demonstrative. I have confessed that it was interesting, at first, but it soon passed that point, aaad was terrible. There was no sign of a policeman anywhere, and we did not know when they might begin to shoot or pounce upon each other in hand to hand conflict. We took ad- vantage of the temporary stop to jump down from the 'bus, plunge through the ever in- 263 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. creasing crowd and get away as fast as pos- sible. I never learned how it turned out, and possibly things of that kind are so common that no one takes any notice of them. I can- not, however, conceive of such a thing hap- pening upon the streets of London, although they are so crowded. There it is impossible to get out of sight of the ever vigilant policeman, whose very presence seems to inspire awe and order in the hearts of all. After the excite^ ment was all over, and we strolled back to our hotel through the "Palace de POpera," we found the people still sitting about the little tables on the streets, still drinking, and the music still floating out of the open doors. I should like to have stayed right there as long as the rest did, just to see how long that would be, but the weariness of the flesh mani- fested itself to such a degree that we hastened our steps and saw no more of "Gay Paris" for that night. We spent a large share of the next day in visiting the stores, otherwise shopping. In all of the cities w T hich we visited, and espe- cially in Paris, I was much interested in the stores. (I have a theory that national charac- teristics are displayed in shop windows.) But 264 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. up to that time we had made but few- pur- chases, on account of not wishing to be laden with superfluous baggage. But as Paris w r as so near our journey's end, we ventured to in- dulge, in a small way, our oft repressed de- sires. We discovered that there were very fine stores upon the Rue de Eivoli, and it was w r ithin this thoroughfare that we spent our remaining time and money. We visited a number of small stores, but it was at one very large emporium that we were impressed in several ways. It was not entirely the display of goods which attracted me, although it was very fine, but it was the marvelous order and regularity which prevailed throughout the entire building. The first thing we asked when we entered the store was for an English speaking clerk. He w^as produced without any delay or confusion. He found out what w r e wanted and delivered us into the hands of another person who understood our language. He (or she) passed us on to the next, never leaving us to winder about and waste time trying to make people understand us who could not, until w T e had completed our pur- chases. This sounds very simple and easy as I write it, and even quite unneces- 265 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUH. sary. to relate as an experience. But after having struggled with people who could not understand us, in stores where nothing but French was spoken, our treatment here really was noteworthy. There were several different floors, and upon each floor were several different departments, and each department was full of a hurrying, scur- rying mass of people, all talking very fast and very loud in a language unintelligible to us, and it means a good deal that we accom- plished our shopping with less inconvenience than we should have experienced in one of the larger stores of New York or Chicago. But it was the final event in the shopping experience which rendered me the most grate- ful for the order and system which prevailed. After the last purchase had been made the young lady who waited upon me conducted me to the cashier's desk, where I received my bill. The cashier could not speak English, but figures are the same in French. I glanced over the bill hurriedly, too hurriedly as it ap- peared, and paid it. As I was wending my way to the outer door I scanned the items more closely, and found that I had paid ten dollars too much. I did not care to lose that 266 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. amount of money, and so turned and tried to find my way back to the desk. I vms annoyed to discover that it was nowhere to be seen, and no one who was near me just then under- stood me when I asked to be directed to it. I wandered back and forth for several anx- ious minutes, and finally found myself in one of the departments wiiere I had been before, and saw the clerk who had waited on me there. She conducted me to the desk of a cashier, but to my surprise it was not the one I wanted, and he knew nothing about the cir- cumstances. She then very patiently con- ducted me through a labyrinth of counters, customers and clerks, and in good time brought me to the place where I had paid the money. As soon as the man saw me, and with no surprise or confusion, he handed me the ten dollars, which had been lying upon the desk beside him. He explained to the clerk who had been my conductor that he had dis- covered his mistake at once, and knew that i would soon be back for the money. He never knew how I had wavered before going back, or how near he had come to being ten dollars ahead that night. Among the many interesting short excur- sions to be made in the neighborhood of Paris, 267 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. we selected the one to Versailles. As I look back over ft now, every moment of that day is packed with interest. Versailles is fourteen miles from Paris, and the principal object of attraction is the palace which has been used as a home by many of the kings and queens of France. We went out by tram car, and the method of getting aboard was quite exciting. There was a great crowd waiting to get on, and we looked for a great rush and jam. But it was not so. We saw T other people buying tickets, and so we bought sonie, not under- standing why they were so conspicuously numbered. When the train drew up we dis- covered the use of the numbers. There were half a dozen cars, and people enough waiting to fill twice that number. There was no push- ing or jamming, and the crowd stood quietly until the conductor began to call the num- bers, beginning with "one." The person who held the ticket marked "one" came forward and took a seat in the car. Number two came next, and so on until all of the cars were filled and the train rolled away, and those who were left awaited the coming of the next one. There were all kinds of family parties getting off at the different parks along the way, and it was 268 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. not difficult to tell where Paris spent its Sun- days. (I think I omitted to say that it was Sunday.) Some very peculiar characteristics of the French people were displayed upon this occasion. We found that the palace was not open until one o'clock, so we proceeded to ex- amine the grounds which surround it, and a delightful experience it proved. If beautiful surroundings can make people happy, then the kings and queens of France who have lived at the palace of Versailles must have added greatly to the great sum of human hap- piness. The general average of the great de- sideratum must have been decidedly raised by their experiences here. Flowers, fount- ains, trees and terraces, shady paths and sunny slopes, all arranged in the most de- lightful manner possible. The best of it all was that this was all open and free to any who cared to enter. Many had availed them- selves of the privilege, and groups and parties sat under the trees or strolled among the fountains. I have several times referred to the many things in and about Paris which are associ- ated with the name and history of Napoleon. Above all other places, the spirit of this great 269 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. man rests upon the palace of Versailles. The halls and galleries are full of paintings illus- trating the history of France, and, as can be imagined, the quondam emperor played no small part here. Then, there are few things in all Europe which impressed me more than did the wonderful statue by Vela, represent- ing Napoleon in his dying hour. It is not often that an artist is able to # catch a moment in the life of a man which tells so much of history, not only of the mian himself, but of the times in which he lived. Napoleon holds in his hand the map of Europe. So delicate has been the hand of the artist upon the mar- ble that the very posture of that once magnifi- cent head and body now clearly reveal weak- ness and despair. I was impressed with the fact that the map of Europe and Napoleon had not always stood in the relation which they did at that moment of his life. As we left France the next day, that was the last we saw of Napoleon. There were many other fine things in the palace, but it would take too long to tell about them. The return ride to Paris upon the top of the car, at nightfall, completed the day. Prominent among the impressions retained of this ride was the 270 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. large number of bicycle riders who were re- turning to Paris at the same time. The num- ber of women surpassed that of the men, and in each case the former were dressed in the Turkish costume, which style of dress seemed to be the most popular as a bicycle costume for ladies throughout France. I noticed that the ladies all rode what is known with us as a "man's wheel." 271 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTER XXV. ENOUGH OF PARIS. ON TO -SCOTLAND. MELROSE AND ABBOTSFORD. I have heard it said that no one ever leaves Paris except with reluctance. That we were an exception to this rule nmy have been be- cause by this time our minds were weary with seeing, or possibly because our faces were set towards home, the thought of which grew each day more attractive. For whatever rea- son it may have been, I remember that we were very happy that morning when, having put carefully on the new hats purchased in our recent shopping expedition, we said "goodbye" to Paris and boarded the train which took us to the seaport of Dieppe. Here we took the channel steamer, which, after a ride of a few hours, brought us literally "to our desired haven," In this case it was the city of "New Haven,"' on the southeast shore of England. At first I thought I was going to be delighted to be upon the water again. But I soon found that I was obliged to exert all 272 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. my powers of mind to keep from being sea- sick, and this state of mind, or rather of body, is entirely too uncertain to admit of any pleasurable feelings. I saw more evidences of seasickness upon this short voyage than upon the trip across the Atlantic. I understand that this experience is common, though no one has explained the cause of it, I shall never forget how delightful it was to set foot upon the shores of England again, and London, al- though our stay there had been so short, seemed like home. After existing for a num- ber of weeks amidst a jargon of German, Ital- ian and French and mixtures of theni all, the peculiar accent of the English, which had so offended my ear when I first heard it, sounded like music. I could understand it much bet- ter than at first, and was more patient with the people who did not understand me. I can imagine that the idea of an American not be- ing able to understand "English" will seem quite ridiculous to- those who have not heard the language a® spoken by 'bus drivers, por- ters and similar personages. But, as I men- tioned once before, we had been initiated into "Hoxfud" (Oxford) street, and also "Obun" (Holborn) street, and a few other localities of 273 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. equal importance, and so managed nicely. There was still one more country to be visited before we saw our native shores. Our last week abroad was devoted to a tour of some of the picturesque portions of "Bonnie Scot- land." During this part of the journey I was entirely alone. But I had many opportunities to discover that a woman does not fare the worse for being alone among Scotch people. I often felt lonesome, but never afraid. I re- member that I hesitated about starting out upon this solitary tour, as I was so weary with sightseeing that it seemed possibly best to spend the week which remained before sail- ing for home in a quiet rest in London. I can never be thankful enough that I did not yield to this momentary paralysis of my enthu- siasm for travel, for those last days stand out in my journey as green and fresh as were the banks of the romantic "Loch Katrine." It is true, as has been said before, that "in Scot- land heroism and romance go hand in hand." The spirit of Wallace and Bruce seem to rest upon the green hills and deserted castles. Melrose Abbey has long been counted as one of the interesting things in Scotland. Ac- cordingly, the town of the same name was my 274 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. first stopping place after crossing the English border. I reached there at seven o'clock in the evening, and as there was some light left, I asked to be directed to the Abbey at once. The ruin is surrounded by a fence, the en- trance gate of which was unlocked for me by a young woman who seemed to be on the lookout for tourists. This young woman acted as a guide about the building, and was ex- tremely anxious to have me notice everything which it was evident other people had en- thused over. But every one knows that you cannot enthuse when you are expected to do so, and besides this, I was embarrassed to find that in spite of my experience in England, it was difficult for me to understand what she was saying on account of her broad Scotch accent. There is very little left of the Abbey besides the bare walls; that is, the walls which would be bare except for the profuse growth of vines which entirely cover some portions of them. Grass grows upon the floor, except where paths have been made by the feet of travelers. There was a heap of stones in the center of the building, and one well worn stone was pointed out as being the place where Walter Scott used to sit and write. 275 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. Then the girl told me that the heart of Robert Bruce was buried there, and she also pointed out the grave of the "mighty Douglas/' and that of the wizard, Michael Scott. By this time it was deep twilight, amd as another per- son had come in, and was occupying the at- tention of my guide, I stepped out all alone into the little graveyard which is considered a regular part of this historic spot. The night Avas damp, and the grave stones were green with the mold of centuries, and the spirit of the wizard whose grave I had just seen seemed to haunt the place. But as ghosts have never bothered me as much as some other things have, I managed to enjoy my little stroll through the old churchyard, even though the associations were a trifle uncanny. Abbotsford, the long time home of Walter Scott, lies three miles from Melrose. I started early the next morning to make the journey thither on foot. Of course, it would have been quicker to ride, but there are many things about a walk which are interesting, and as time permitted this method of reaching the place, I concluded to adopt it. It turned out most favorably. The hoiuse and grounds of Abbotsford are surrounded by a high wall, 276 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. so that only the top of the house may be seen from the outside, and that not to good ad- vantage. The house faces the little river Tweed, and the grounds run down to it. The entrance, as one comes from Melrose, is at the rear. The visitors are not allowed to go out of the house into the grounds, and on this ac- count it is impossible to see the outside of the house at all. I was glad that I knew some- thing of how it looked from pictures which 1 had seen before I left home. I went down the walk, and entered what seemed to> have been the kitchen when the house was used for a home. Now it is fitted up with tables and counters, upon which are placed pictures, books and other souvenirs to attract the visi- tor. Here one pays his shilling and waits un- til enough people have come in to make it worth while for a guide to show them through the house. 1 was most interested in the library. There stands the desk and chair which were used by the great novelist while preparing the manuscript of his most famous books. His favorite books line the shelves, and a number of things about the place indi- cate the peculiar tastes of the author. It seems that Scott was a great trophy collector, 277 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. and one room is devoted 1 exclusively to the exhibition and preservation of things which he had treasured daring his lifetime. Some of these things are of much intrinsic value, while others are only valuable because he cared for them. There were keys and swords, and hunting paraphernalia of all kinds. Belts and buckles and shoes were artistically grouped upon the wall. The last suit which Scott wore was displayed in a glass case. I learned that the house is now owned by a granddaughter of Scott, who does not care to occupy it, but is willing to keep it up for the revenue which it brings to her, As I was leaving the house I took it upon myself to re- monstrate with the person in authority be- cause he did not allow anyone to go out into the garden and see the house from the out- side. A pleasant elderly looking Scotch gen- tleman who had come in since I had, over- heard the conversation, and stepping up, said he thought he could help me. If I would join his party, which consisted of himself, one other gentleman and two ladies, I would be able to see the house quite well from the out- side. I accepted the invitation most gladly, and as they were walking too, we were soon 278 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. upon the way. I found them delightful com* pany. I remember that among other things Ave talked theology, and after a while they discovered that I was an American. (I do not know whether niy theology had an American coloring, or whether it was my accent, which seems quite as peculiar to them as theirs did to me.) They were intensely interested 1 in this country, and asked innumerable questions about it, especially the women. None of them had traveled here, but they knew friends who had done so, and knew that it was a very fine place. By that time I was so homesick that I could hardly speak of my own country with- out choking, and it is siaf e to say that America lost none of her fair reputation with those good Scotch people on that walk. I was walk- ing with strangers in a strange land, and be- cause they were good to me, I longed more ardently for my own friends at home. I never learned their names, but I shall not soon for- get them. We walked about a half a mile, and then turned off .the road into a field. We soon came to the bank of the Tweed. Here they called and waved umbrellas, and a boy came dow T n to the opposite bank and rowed a boat across for us. This seemed to be an un- 279 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. derstood thing, and the fare was a penny. I enjoyed paying out that penny as much as anything I ever did. Following the directions given me by my new friends, after saying goodbye to them I walked along a beautiful road upon the bank of the river opposite Ab- botsford, from which I obtained a fine view of the house and its surroundings. I soon came to a small town to which I had been directed, and returned to Melrose by rail. The next stop after Melrose was at Edin- borough. I had quite a jaunt about the city before I secured a hotel. I had been directed to one, but that was full, and the second one was full, and I tried the third before being successful. I met with the best of treatment from every one, and I learned a good deal about the city. The place where I finally stayed was a rather small Temperance hotel, kept by two women, who seemed to do most of the work themselves, and who made it very pleasant and homelike. T had to press my suit a little in order to get in here. When "I did succeed it was by persuading them to let me have a bed in a room already occupied by two young English ladies. We got on very nicely, however, and became the best of 280 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. friends. They lived in Bristol, England, and were going for a trip to the north of Scotland. One of them had had a fall, and they were waiting in Edinborough until she should be well enough to go on. But the other one and myself had several nice walks, and the next day went to church together. They, like the Scotch people of the former experience, were very much interested w hen they found that I came from America, and lis- tened eagerly to all that I said of that won- derful country, which I trust I did not paint in rosier colors than it deserved. To them it seemed a long way to come "just to see the sights. " I never learned the young ladies' names nor told them mine. That evening I walked about the city alone. I went up Prince's Street, and visited the shops full of bright Scotch plaid things. The beautiful me- morial to Walter Scott, known as the "Wav- erly Monument," is here. This was designed by John M. Kemp, and is a magnificent Gothic structure, two- hundred feet in height. Sir Walter sits in the center, holding a book, while one of his favorite dogs lies at his feet. The castle rises conspicuously in the center of the town, giving the impression of rugged strength. 281 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. Perhaps the most unique experience of the trip was the Sunday I spent in Edinborough. If one does not wish to stay until Monday morning, he should not arrive here on Satur- day night. No trains run in or out of the city on Sunday, no street cars are used, no meals can be obtained except at the regular hotels, as the restaurants are closed. There is really nothing to do but go to church. It was about eight o'clock in the morning when I went out onto the street, and the stillness was that of a country lane. I remember that the silence was slightly broken by the footsteps of two clerical looking gentlemen, who were hurry- ing along with Bibles under their arms, evi- dently a little late for an early service. Then a solitary milk wagon came jolting along. I wondered where the people were who in other places were thronging the tram cars and su- burban railway stations, fairly fighting to se- cure a place. I did not have to wait long to discover where they were. In a brief time the streets were thronged with people, hurrying somewhere, and joining the crowd, I found that they were pouring into the churches. At half-past nine I attended the now famous "military service" in the historic church of St. 282 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. Giles, the oldest church in Edinborough. It was good to see a cathedral packed with wor- shipers from front to rear. The body of the church was entirely filled with the soldiers, While the citizens and visitors occupied the wings. The soldiers came filing in dressed in their scarlet coats, plaid scarfs and kilts, and looked very picturesque. The service was that of the Church of England, conducted very simply. The minister was straightfor- ward, almost stern. The service closed with the singing of "God Save the Queen." I re- member that before the hymn was finished some persons in the rear of the room began to move about and to leave the church. Sud- denly every one was startled by a loud voice from the pulpit exclaiming: "Sit. ye down. Oanna ye keep quiet w T hile her Majesty's hymn is being sung?" I rather liked the spirit of the minister's remarks, especially as I had been mentally supplying the words, "My Country, Tis of Thee." Then came the hurried walk across the bridge to where the Established and Free Churches of Scotland are located. I attended the services at the one called "Free St. George." I was impressed by the air of quiet reverence which pervaded 283 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. it. The service was similar to that of the Congregational Church of America, only somewhat longer. The only noticeable differ- ence was the plain black gown of the minis- ter. But the morning spent among the churches was not more interesting than the afternoon spent among the hills. "Of course you must go to Calton Hill," some one had said who was familiar with the city. Accord- ingly, to Calton Hill I wended my way. It is a rocky eminence of some three hundred and fifty feet, lying towards the eastern part of the city. It is crowned with a grassy sum- mit, and although there are no shade trees it seemed to be a favorite rendezvous for people of all classes. It contains monuments to Brit- ish and Scotch heroes, notably Nelson and Burns. Its most interesting feature is the fine view of the city and its surroundings to be obtained from its summit. A short walk to the east brings you to "Holy Rood Palace." This building is closed to the public on Sun- day, so I could not see the interior, and so had to content myself with a walk around it, but so many unusual things have happened there that I enjoyed doing that. It was here in Queen Mary's apartment that Rizzio was mur- 284 THE STORY OF A ECROPEAN TOUR. dered, and they say his blood still stains the floor. Charles I. was crowned here in 1633. A portion of the palace was built by Charles II,, and Lord Darnley lies buried in the royal vault by the side of a number of Scotland's kings and queens. I walked on until I came to Salisbury Craggs, and still farther to the mountain called "Arthur's Seat." The moun- tain, by the way, must have been a most un- comfortable seat for this popular king, for a climb to its summit revealed only a rough, rugged expanse of red sand stone. Many hundreds of people were strolling about these places, although I could hardly see what was there to attract them. Some were in family groups, others in couples, and others, like my- self, entirely alone. I noticed with surprise that nothing of any kind was offered for sale, and no amusement of any kind was indulged in aside from walking and talking. No band music broke the Sabbath stillness, no merry- go-round with gorgeous trappings and dolor- ous music attracted the children, who seemed perfectly content to roll upon the grass or frolic quietly. No white aproned waiters un- der gay canopies dispensed even the mildest of drinks. The people of Edinborough seemed 285 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. to be perfectly satisfied to enjoy the bright skies and clear air in this simple way. The climb to the top of "Arthur's Seat" was the climax of the afternoon. It is- 822 feet high, and I was told that; upon clear days you could see the great "Forth Bridge/' which is thirteen miles away, and is the sec- ond largest bridge in the world. But when I reached there a dense cloud had settled down upon everything, and I even seemed to« be sitting on a cloud. A return to the city in the gloaming revealed the people gathered to- gether in groups upon the different streets, listening to the street, preachers. It seemed from this that all the people did not go to church after all. But even the unwilling ones were not to escape gospel exhortation. The . crowds about the speaker were quiet and re- spectful and attentive, and all tendency to flippancy and covert ridicule was absent. Upon my return to the hotel I was addressed by a matronly Scotch lady as follows: "Did ye hear the preachin' ? Wasn't it gude ■?" I finished up the day with another church service, and went back to the hotel ponder- ing over the reason why Sunday in Edinbor- ough was so different from a Sunday in Con- tinental cities. 286 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. CHAPTER XXVI. STIRLING CASTLE. THE TROSSACHS. EXPERIENCES. GLASGOW. HOME. It was very early on Monday morning that I said "goodbye'' to the friends whom I had found at the hotel in Edinborough, and started upon my journey again. My first stop was to be at the old town of Stirling, where 287 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. I wanted to visit the famous castle. Castles seem to have worn better than cathedrals did, for we never lost an opportunity to visit a castle, while the cathedrals had long since lost their charm. Possibly it was because there is more individuality about a castle than there is about a cathedral. When we reached Stirling I left my valise at the station, and tugged up a long hill to the castle! I found it there, just as it had been described, only more picturesque. At the present time the castle is used as a soldiers' barracks, and old soldiers linger about the place- to act as guides, pointing out interest- ing points and explaining historical points. Stirling Castle is a natural fortress. The hill upon which it stands rises on one side for a distance of four hundred anjd twenty feet in solid perpendicular rock. Above this rises the castle wall. The descent on the other side of the hill is more gradual, and in the diays of the castle's activity approach from this side was cut off by means of a wide moat. It stands substantially today as it did in the days of the Stuarts, only that the great draw- bridge is never lifted, and the ponderous gates are not closed. One of the first things & 286 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. which was shown to me was the cell where prisoners were kept. The walls were of bare stone, and the floor w r as of dirt. In one corner was a circular opening, which the guide ex- plained to me was the "torture chamber." It was just large enough for a man to stand u\> right in. A large pipe ran up through it. The prisoner was put in there and the pipe heated, and he w T as left there to suffer. Not always until the point of death was reached, but until he was considered sufficiently punished. This was the cell, so the guide declared, where Roderick Dhu was cast, after his unfortunate duel with Fitz James, and here it was where the Highland chief breathed his last. Then there was the room where James V. was born, and the garden where his mother walked and played with him. There was the "Douglas" room, where James and the Earl of Douglas had their famous quarrel. The story is that the House of Douglas was always too strong to suit the mind of the Stuart kings. Almost strong enough to have their own way, and in- clined to do so. Upon one occasion James II. invited the powerful baron to Stirling Castle for a conference. But the fiery temper of the Stuarts got the better of him, and when Wil- 289 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. liam did not come to his terms he stabbed the noble and trusting guestj and threw his body out of the window. It goes without saying that this act is Considered a blot upon the fail 4 name of the castle. From the outer wall of the castle there is an extended and remark^ able view. The Elver Forth is seen With ita multiplicity of windings, also the Wallace monument and the Bridge of Allan. The Field of Bannockburn lies in the distance. The famous mountains of Scott's "Lady of the Lake/' known as "Ben Lomond/' "Ben Ve- nue/' "Ben Ledi" and others, may all be seen upon a clear day. But although the sun shone brightly a heavy mist hung upon the horizon, and every one of the "Bens" were completely hidden. The old guide regaled me with many interesting bits of Scotch history during the hour which I spent upon this historic spot. He had plenty of material upon which to draw, for volumes of it were made right here. It was here that the beautiful "Mary Queen of Scots" was crowned, and it w T as her home for many years. There was one particular corner of the wall to which she used to betake herself with her sewing or embroidery, and, through an opening made for the purpose, 290 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. look down upon the games which were taking place below, seeing, but not being seen. Stir- ling Oastle has never yielded to a bombard- ment. Whenever it did yield it was to a pro- tracted siege, as the difficulty of securing water made it particularly suspectible in this direction. "But," added the guide, after re- lating the above circumstances, "if the guns they have now were turned upon it, it would only take about half an hour to shave it off as clean as a bald head." From Stirling I went by rail to the village of Callender, and here the interesting part began. The plan was to go through the "Trossaehs," and I had formed very little idea of how it was going to be. So, when I alighted from the cars at Callender, and walked through the station to where the coaches were in waiting, J was not prepared for the sight which met my eyes. There w x ere six or eight of the great mountain coaches drawn up there, each one having four horses attached to it. I cannot describe them better than to say that they were "big shiny ones." The first story was a large wagon box, which held the baggage. High above that were the seats. There were five seats on each coach, and each held four persons. I scrambled up 291 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. the ladder, which is a necessary accompani- ment of this style of conveyance, the coaches soon filled, and we were off. I felt as I imag- ine one would feel (I have had no experience myself) riding in the band wagon of a circus procession. The horses were fine, the roads superb, and the driver lost no time in making the distance. Before we reached the first stop- ping place I decided that one can never tell what he is going to do when passing through untried experiences. At a sudden turn in the road we came upon a small Highland hotel nestling among the trees. I was taken by sur- prise to see an American flag waving from the gate post. It had been a number of weeks since I had seen the flag, and this was "Old Glory" dressed in beautiful silk, and it lent itself most gracefully to the Highland breezes. I never knew who put it there, but as I gazed upon it no one could have been more surprised than I was myself, to find the tears streaming down my cheeks. A person who has never been out of his own country is not prepared for the intense longing for it which comes over him at moments like this. The coach was full, but no one else seemed to notice the flag. As we drove on I thought 292 THE STORY OP A EUROPEAN TOUR. I heard a voice in front remark in a very un- interested tone: "Wasn't that the American flag?" I felt as if everybody ought to rise up in their seats and cheer, and here there were people who did not even know what that flag stood for. Those tears were left for the mountain breezes to dry while I hastened to turn my thoughts to the beajitiful scenery through which we were passing. It was up and down hill, through shade and sun, past lake and river. I was comforting myself the while with the thought that if all went well with us it would be but a few days before my eyes would be feasting upon the broad prairies of Iowa, where the corn fields which I had left in their infancy would now be rip- ening for the harvest. That day in the Tros- sachs was an eventful one. Scotch people occupied the seats all about me, and for some reason I was strung up to the highest pitch of sensitiveness to everything I saw. Once, when the coach cleared the woods, our eyes fell for the first time upon the glittering ex- panse of the beautiful little "Loch Achray." All the natives went into raptures over it. It was not a lack of aesthetic sense, but simply the aftermath of what I felt when I saw the 293 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. flag, that prompted me to exclaim: "What a little bit of a lake! Ini my country it would hardly be considered large enough to name." The mild Scotch lady who was sitting beside me opened her eyes and gazed at me for a mo- ment in calm surprise, and then said: "Ah, that is America, I suppose! I hear they have everything on a grand scale in that countree!" (She pronounced it Ah-may-r-r-r-kah.) We stopped for a delightful dinner at the Tros- sachs hotel. Then loading up once more, it was but a short ride to the banks of Lake Katrine. The little steamer which was to take us across the lake was called "Rob Roy," and it was well crowded when all of the peo- ple in the coaches had been loaded into* it. "Ellen's Isle" was the first thing to greet my eyes when once we were afloat. It is much too small to meet the conditions of Scott's delightful poem, where "For retreat in dangerous hour Some chief had framed a rustic bower." But it was all the prettier for being small. As the boat sped on over the "burnished sheet of living gold" I fell into conversation with a Scotch gentleman. I find that this record is pointing to the sociability of the 294 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. Scotch people. It is certainly true that I was treated with more real cordiality here than in any of the eight countries through which we passed. This gentleman asked me if I was enjoying the scenery. I replied that I was enjoying it very much; that it would be a pity if I did not do so, as I had come a long way to see it, viz.: from America. "Ah, madam," he said, "you did not need to tell me that; I knew you w^ere an American as soon as I saw you." It could not have been the theology this time, could it? He w T as a very interesting person, had trav- eled in America, and all over the world, and thought he knew some of my friends at home. He volunteered some interesting bits of infor- mation in regard to the country through which w r e were passing. Among those was the fact that this little lake supplied the water for the city of Glasgow, some fifty or more miles away. An immense number of gallons are drawn off each day, but the w r ater never decreases. Here we had a fine view of the "Bens," which had been hidden behind the clouds at Stirling. We went ashore at Stronaehlocher Pier, at the west end of the lake. After a short stop the coaches were 295 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. again loaded up and went on, but I was left behind, as I had planned to spend the night there. It was very lonely and still after the crowd had gone. I took a long walk around the lake, then climbed one of the hills and sat until "The shades of eve came slowly down, The woods were wrapped in deeper brown," Then I returned to the hotel and enjoyed the moonlight shining on the lake until a late hour. The next day there was a ride from Stron- achlo'cher to Loch Lommond. It was much the same as the day before. I was fortunate enough to secure the front seat of the "band wagon" this time, and enjoyed the landscape to better advantage. I experienced the same delightful cordiality on the part of the people which I enjoyed the day before. Loch Lom- mond is larger than Loch Katrine, and al- though the steamer was larger, the lake was very rough, and the ride, on the whole, not so pleasant. After the "Trossachs" came a short stop at Glasgow. Glasgow is decidedly a commer- cial city, and reminded me of Chicago, with its business and bustle. The comparison is to 296 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. the advantage of Chicago in one respect, at least, for Glasgow is full of beggars. I have not devoted much time to the beggars in Eu- rope, but they are there at every turn, and worthy of a special chapter. Glasgow is said to be the third city of Great Britain in wealth and population. But taking it as a whole, I did not enjoy it, for commercialism is no nov- elty to an American. We sometimes cross the water to get away from it. There is a fine university here, and I en- joyed an inspection of the magnificent buildings, but there were no students there at that time. The university is called the grandest modern building in Scotland. "George's Square" is an attractive place. It is a large open space containing statues of prominent persons. Among these are Scott, Peel, Pitt, Burns and others. I was particu- larly pleased with the equestrian statues of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. Queen "Vic" was represented as a young woman, and right proudly she reigns her fiery steed. There is a cathedral here, and a curious old burying ground called the "Necropolis." The old parts of the city lie close by the newer parts, and when riding through both of them 297 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. one feels as if he had been in two different centuries inside of the same five minutes. From Glasgow it was only a few hours' ride to Liverpool, and the return ocean voy- age, which we had been alternately anticipat- ing and dreading all summer. We antici- pated it, because it would be taking us home, we dreaded it on account of the discomforts which might accompany it. After the usual excitement and waiting and handshaking at the wharf, we set sail at five o'clock in the afternoon. Not a single cloud dimmed the blue of the sky above us. But no sky could be freer from clouds than were our hearts that summer afternoon, for — we were — going home. The sun set in a clear sky, and the moon rose out of the water in a glory of brightness. On the whole, the return voyage was pleas- ant. The sun shone a good deal of the time, and the water was not so rough as before. Some of the passengers were those who went over with us, and seemed like old friends. There was the usual ship routine of a little reading, a good deal of eating, and walking the deck between times. Once the monotony was varied by a mag- nificent sunset. The declining orb set all the 298 THE STORY OF A EUROPEAN TOUR. little waves anil ripples which played about the boat into am ecstacy of shimmering and glittering, while all the horizon was suffused with a magnificent yet delicate pink. There was the usual ship concert, with some very ordinary music, and some very extraordinary speaking. There was a rainy day or two, and one day when the wind blew so that it was as much as ones life was worth to attempt to walk on deck; and then after a while there was — land. It was a good thing that it came gradually, like a little cloud at first, and finally taking definite shape as the shores of "my ain countries There is an intensity of pleasure which bor- ders closely upon pain. As we said "Good- bye" to the ocean steamer and those who had been our companions upon it, and turned our faces toward our western home, I realized that I was very near that border line. -Finis. — 299 H 66 89 :*> ./■■-,. -*-*0, A*- "ov 4 : I^Bii' ^** ^^P^^» *** 'Willis - ►* .«F *- 0* * J- .♦*'*< g "O. HECKMAN LL| BINDERY INC. P| JUN 89 N. MANCHESTER, INDIANA 46962